A Stray Friendship

I’m really not an overly sentimental guy. While time and a couple of beautiful daughters have softened me up some, I still don’t get misty eyed over Hallmark commercials or Meg Ryan movies. I guess I never will be that “modern” man who is in touch with his “feminine side”, whatever that means. However, from time to time I will see or hear something that gets to me. Yesterday was one of those days when I felt like I saw something special.

I had just finished gassing up my truck when I noticed a couple of dogs across the road. They were both clearly mutts. They were shaggy and looked like they were probably strays. The first was a medium sized dog. He was not as big as a lab but not too far from it. He had a lot of energy and would run ahead of the other dog before stopping and running back. The second dog was considerably smaller than the first. He might have been the size of a cocker spaniel. One thing I did see was that the smaller dog was not healthy. He was limping noticeably and did not appear well at all. Once the pair reached the side of the road, the smaller dog stopped and sat down and patiently watched his larger more energetic friend sniff around the shoulder of the road.

I don’t know what it was about these dogs that caused me to pause and watch them. I do know I felt some trepidation as I figured they were about to try and cross the road. This particular stretch of road is very busy. It is four lanes wide and, as usual, folks were whizzing by in both directions at fifty to sixty miles per hour. I really hoped I wasn’t about to see them get hurt or killed.

For just a moment it seemed they were going to be content to sit and watch the cars go by. The larger of the two had returned to sit by his friend and I hoped that they would sense this was not a good time to cross the road and go back in the direction from which they had come. That was not to be, however. For no apparent reason, they decided that it was time to cross the road. The pair bolted in unison into the heavy traffic. The smaller dog seemed to know right away he was not going to make it. He got about halfway across the first lane of traffic before he stopped, nearly getting hit by a pick-up truck, and retreated back to the shoulder of the road. The larger dog, apparently not realizing his partner was no longer with him, bobbed and weaved his way through the traffic and somehow managed to cross all four lanes without being hit. I was greatly relieved to see that both dogs were ok and started to get in my truck to leave. It was at this point that things got interesting.

I saw that the two dogs were not going their separate ways after all. They sat on opposite sides of the four lane road looking at each other. The traffic continued to fly by without giving either of them any notice. The larger dog, that had successfully crossed the road moments earlier, began to get antsy. He got up and paced about ten yards in one direction and then the other while looking across the road at his traveling partner. Maybe I am attributing too much human-like emotion to the larger dog but it seemed very clear to me that he was deeply worried about his smaller and less agile friend. I watched intently at what happened next. The larger dog, that had just narrowly avoided being killed crossing this busy road, decided to risk everything one more time. He bolted back into traffic and managed to zig-zag his way to the other side without being hit and took his spot next to the smaller dog. The pair watched the traffic for another minute or so before getting up and going back in the same general direction from which they had come earlier. Once again the larger dog would run ahead as his smaller friend limped along behind. The larger dog would never get too far ahead before stopping and running back to his buddy. I stood and watched them until they were lost from sight in the tall grass of an uncut pasture.

I lingered for a couple of minutes after they were gone and marveled at what I had seen. Words like loyalty, friendship, and honor came to mind. Somehow, it seemed there was more to this than I was fully grasping. I looked around and none of the other half a dozen or so people who were busy filling up their vehicles seemed to have noticed any of the drama that had just transpired. It was almost as if it were a lesson just for me. I wish I could tell you that I have gleaned some kind of great cosmic truth out of this but I haven’t. I can tell you only that I have found myself thinking of this unlikely pair almost continually since yesterday.

Maybe some revelation will come to me and I will come to understand why this incident made such an impact on me. Maybe the lesson is as simple as being a better friend to those I care about. Either way, I don’t think I will soon forget these two friends. I know they were just a couple of stray dogs but in many ways aren’t we all?

My best…

Classic Tune of the Week 11

Today I'm posting my favorite Christmas song/hymn. "O Holy Night" was composed by Adolphe Adam in 1847. Adam based his composition on a poem penned by Placide Cappeau. Cappeau had written the poem as a favor to a parish priest. "O Holy Night" is thought to be the first song broadcast on radio. On Christmas Eve in 1906, Reginald Fessenden, a Canadian inventor, broadcast the first AM radio program. Fessenden performed the song on his violin during the program.

The video below shows "O Holy Night" being performed live by Michael Crawford. Crawford is probably best known as the star of the long running Broadway musical "The Phantom of the Opera". His version is simply the most powerful I've ever heard. No other artist, in my opinion, has come close to this performance. Make sure and watch/listen to the end. The notes Crawford hits toward the end of the song will give you chill bumps.



This will likely be my last posting until 2009. Merry Christmas to each of you.

My best...

Classic Tune of the Week 10

This week I'm posting 'Blue Christmas' by Elvis Presley. The song has been recorded many times by many different artists but this seems to be the version everybody knows and loves.

'Blue Christmas' was written by Billy Hayes and Jay W. Johnson. The song is a tale of unrequited love that takes place during the holidays and has long been considered a Christmas staple on popular radio. The song was first recorded by Ernest Tubb in 1948. In 1957, Presley recorded his version of the tune and cemented its status as a Christmas classic. The song was also included in my favorite children's Christmas television special, 'The Year Without a Santa Claus'.

There are several versions of the song on the video bar to choose from. My favorite is the live version. Click the picture of Elvis and his band on stage to hear this version. I hope you enjoy it.

As always, ignore the other videos that have tagged along.

My best...

Quote of the Week

Today I am starting something new. I am going to start posting some of my favorite quotes. I am starting with what might be my favorite quote of all time. I hope you enjoy it.

"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy course; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

- Theodore Roosevelt

My best...

A Christmas Story

This past week my family and I continued what has become a yearly ritual. It has become a tradition for us to gather together over the Thanksgiving break to watch ‘A Christmas Story’. The movie is one of my all-time favorites and has also become one my kids love as well. They look forward to seeing it every year and it isn’t unusual for them to begin talking about the movie weeks prior to our actually sitting down and watching it. Watching the movie has become the event that officially kicks off the Christmas Season for us.

The plot for ‘A Christmas Story’ centers around nine year old Ralphie Parker’s quest to obtain a Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas. While the story revolves around Ralphie’s BB gun mania, the movie is a wonderful look back into what life was like for a typical, though slightly eccentric, American family living in the Midwest during the 1940s. The director, Bob Clark, created a veritable time capsule with this movie. Vintage toys, radios, autos, and furnishings provide, by all accounts, an accurate portrait of what 1940s Indiana looked like.

The movie was released in November of 1983. To be perfectly honest, I do not remember it at all. Much like Frank Capra’s ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’, it was a modest, at best, box office success. Though loved by critics it was largely ignored by the movie going public. I first took note of the film when I realized it starred Darren McGavin. I was a huge fan of ‘Kolchak: The Nightstalker’ as a kid and have been willing to watch anything starring Darren McGavin ever since. He was brilliant as the father of young Ralphie and, though I loved his turn as Kolchak, I must admit this may be his finest work. The scene where he tries to put the pieces of his “major award”, the famous leg lamp, back together is a classic.

While ‘A Christmas Story’ provides dozens of genuinely hysterical moments, I think the reason the movie has become a classic is how it reflects a simpler time. There is a gentleness to the movie that isn’t often captured successfully by actors or directors. My two favorite scenes, both near the end of the movie, illustrate this quite well. The scene where Ralphie is directed to an unseen gift, behind the desk, by his father really touches me. Ralphie’s joy at discovering he has received his beloved Red Ryder BB gun after all is surpassed only by the thrill his father gets from watching his boy open his dream gift. I didn’t really understand this until I became a father myself. The second of my two favorite scenes is the second to last scene of the movie where the mother walks into a darkened living room illuminated only by the lights of the Christmas tree. After turning on the radio, which plays Christmas music softly, she is called over to the couch by her husband who is watching a beautiful snow falling outside the window. She sits down on the arm of the couch next to him. They then put their arms around each other as they watch the snow gently fall outside. It is the one scene in the movie where the mother and father are seen alone. It conveys, in a very simple but elegant manner, how much they love one another. Truly, at that moment, all is right with the world.

If you have never seen ‘A Christmas Story’ I highly recommend giving it a viewing. I can almost guarantee that you will want to watch it at least once a year thereafter. Who knows? Maybe it will become a Christmas tradition for your family as well.

Until we visit again, remember not to shoot your eye out, stick your tongue to a flag- pole in sub-freezing weather, or stand beneath those dangerous icicles (they’ve been known to kill people, you know).

My best…

Classic Tune of the Week 9

In honor of the holiday season, I will be posting some of my favorite Christmas music over the next couple of weeks. The songs will likely range from pop tunes, to hymns, to traditional classic Christmas songs. This week I have chosen "Christmas Is The Time To Say I Love You" by Billy Squier.

This song, to the best of my knowledge, made it's debut on an MTV Christmas special back in 1981. Squier appeared on the show and performed the song with the MTV Chorus singing back up. This "Chorus" was made up of MTV's production crew and on air talent. If you look carefully at the video, you will catch glimpses of original VJs Martha Quinn, J.J. Jackson, Mark Goodman, Alan Hunter, and Nina Blackwood. The song and video, taken from the Christmas special, continued to get heavy air play for years to come on the radio and MTV respectfully during December.

I've always liked the song. These days, however, I think it is more than the catchy tune that keeps me coming back to this song each year at Christmas time. It takes me back to my early teens when MTV was new and the "M" actually stood for music. This was when everbody under the age of 25 spent hour upon hour watching music videos on this network. It reminds me of a one of the best time periods of my life.

Hit the one of the pictures on the video bar showing people in Santa Hats to see the video. I hope you enjoy it.

My best...

Goodbye to the Quiet Man

I lost a basketball game today. No, not the team I coach. Neither was it a recreation or church league team with which I was playing. Nope, it was a one on one game. No lousy teammates to blame and no inept officials. Depressingly, there is simply no one to blame but myself. What is the big deal you may be asking? I lost to an 8th grader. Granted, he is a very gifted 8th grader but he is an 8th grader nonetheless. To understand why I’m so upset you will have to travel back with me quite a few years.

Competitive basketball has been part of my life since I was in 3rd grade. I started playing for a YMCA team and never looked back. I wasn’t particularly good that first year. I was tall and thin (ok, skinny and weak) and wasn’t exactly a scoring machine. My feet were big and didn’t seem to be proportional to the rest of my toothpick body. Try to imagine Shelley Duvall in clown shoes loping down the court and you get the general idea as to my appearance. I got better though. In 4th grade I made the Little Dribbler’s All-Star Team. I still didn’t score a lot but I had started to get some fundamentals like boxing out and using the backboard down. Our little All-Star team traveled to Livingston, Texas for a tournament one weekend. We played two games and, to be honest, I don’t remember if we won one of them or not. I do remember getting a nice hand from the crowd when I was taken out of the contest late in the fourth quarter of our second game. I hadn’t scored much but had played pretty well defensively and grabbed quite a few rebounds. I remember thinking it was pretty cool that those folks were clapping for me.

My first two years in junior high I played behind a big fat guy named Joey. He wasn’t very good but was tall and strong. I remember thinking I should be playing in front of that tub of goo. My coach didn’t see it that way, however. My game was sound and my skills probably were better than Joey’s. However, I was not an aggressive player and didn’t have a lot of confidence in myself. So, I lived the life of a second stringer for the mighty Bullpups my 7th and 8th grade year. Something changed my freshman year. I matured a good bit physically but it was more than that. Suddenly, I began to understand the game. I could anticipate when someone was going to break open or where a rebound was likely to carom after it hit the rim. The game slowed down for me. Big fat Joey would never play in front of me again.

As a sophomore I led our J.V. team in scoring and really started to come into my own as a player. Things only got better my junior year as I started for the varsity of my 5A high school. I will never forget my first varsity game. We played Bridge City at home. I scored 19 points and played really well. The next day this tall drink of water named Dana stopped me in the parking lot on my way into school. She asked, “Are you number 44?" I nodded. She smiled a big smile and said, “You’re really good.” She winked at me, spun around, and sashayed her pretty little self into the building. It was then I began to suspect that this basketball thing might have some fringe benefits I had not yet considered. My high school career turned out to be a very good one. We weren’t very good but I led our team in scoring, rebounding, free-throw percentage, and, unfortunately, technical fouls each year. I made All-District twice and got some attention from the local papers. One local reporter even gave me a nickname. He called me the "Quiet Man". He wrote that I didn't woof and trash talk like so many other players but, instead, just went about the business of playing hard quietly. It wasn't the best nickname but it was mine. I really had a lot of fun playing in high school.

I did manage to play a little in college but was hampered by injuries. I had never really been hurt before but once I injured my right knee in a pick up game during the summer between my senior year in high school and my freshman year of college I was never the same. Something always hurt and I just couldn’t stay healthy. I finally hung it up and worked as a student assistant for two years. Once out of school, I began coaching.

I’ve coached for years now and from time to time I will play a pick up game with one of the kids. They have always seemed to enjoy it and many is the time I would play 7-8 games in a row against kids who were lined up to take their best shot. Never in all my years of doing this had I lost to one of them. Not once. Then today it finally happened. As I’ve mentioned already, this young man is extremely gifted. He is a full inch taller than I am (I’m 6’3”) and probably twenty-five pounds lighter. He is quick as a cat and destined to be better than I ever even thought about being. Still, he is only an 8th grader. I had a chance to win but this time my last shot, launched from a base of two very heavy legs, came up short. He rebounded and scored for the win. It was a battle and he was breathing just as hard as I was when it was over but he had won. I had lost.

I know in the grand scheme of things it isn’t a big deal. It was just a pick-up game of one on one. He probably won’t even remember this day a couple of years from now. Yet, as I think about how he was mobbed by his teammates, who had stayed after practice to watch us play, and the huge grin he had on his face, I wonder if I’m wrong about that. Please don't misunderstand me. I’m quite proud of the young man. He’s a great kid. Despite how all this may sound, I’m really not in some sort of huge funk. However, something did change today for me. Some sort of milestone in my life was reached. I’ve got a feeling my days as the best player on the floor whenever I play a pick-up game are over. It was inevitable, I suppose. As of today, I’m no longer a good player but, instead, a good player for my age. I’m now in good condition for a 42 year old instead of just being in good condition. I now come with a caveat. Will that young man remember today? Maybe. Will I? Yes, I will remember.

My best…

Classic Tune of the Week 8

I have chosen “Brilliant Disguise” by Bruce Springsteen for this week’s song.

“Brilliant Disguise” was the first single from the 1987 album “Tunnel of Love”. The song reached position #5 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and #1 on the Mainstream Rock Tracks chart. The song was recorded in Springsteen’s Thrill Hill East home studio. Despite the fact that several members of the E Street Band played on the recording, the song is much more understated than Springsteen’s typical sound.

The song’s lyrics tell the story of a man who suddenly discovers he has become a stranger to his wife. Springsteen covers many emotions including self-doubt, jealousy, anxiety, and confusion. Boiled down, the song is about the masks people wear as they play out their expected roles in life and how disturbing it can be to peek at the secrets that lie behind those masks.

“Brilliant Disguise” is one of my favorite Springsteen songs and, in my opinion, one of his most underrated efforts. While I think lyrically the entire song is terrific, the final line is one of my all time favorites. Springsteen finishes the tune by singing, “God have mercy on a man who doubts what he’s sure of.” Rarely do songwriters, or storytellers of any kind, manage to wrap up their efforts so well.

I really wanted to feature the original MTV video of the song. However, I can't find a version of it posted online that allows it to be embedded. I would highly recommend going to YouTube and watching it. The black and white shots of Springsteen on the video block are what to look for in order to see the original video. You can watch one of the live concert performances featured on the video block. I hope you enjoy it.

My best...

The Presidential Election of 2008

The Presidential Election of 2008 has now come and gone. There are many very happy people out there now that Barack Obama has been elected and will become the 44th President of the United States. No doubt there are many very unhappy and disappointed John McCain supporters as well. This election, like the last three, has been very contentious and has underscored the deep divide in our country between the left and the right. I would like to take a moment to address those on both sides of the political spectrum.

First, congratulations to the Democrats. You worked hard, chose a candidate that excited the electorate and captured people’s imagination, and came out with the victory. I would urge all Democrats to resist the urge to gloat and, instead, try to start healing this great divide in our nation. With a Democratic controlled Congress and a Democrat in the Oval Office there will be little to stop your agenda. I hope all on the Democratic side of the spectrum truly realize that now is when the hard work starts. Now, if things don’t improve, there will be no George W. Bush, to blame. I hope it goes well and President-elect Obama turns out to be the right man at the right time.

Those identifying themselves as Republicans are feeling disappointed with the outcome of this election. I will say to you the same thing I said to the Democrats in 2000 and 2004. That is, don’t whine, complain, and cry that you lost. You were not cheated and the election was not fixed. The media did not brainwash the masses. You failed to choose a candidate that excited your own base much less one that could win over undecided voters. John McCain seems like a nice person. I have a lot of respect for him as a public servant, war hero, and patriot. However, charisma is not exactly oozing from his pores. There is little doubt that the difference in style and oratory ability played into this election to a large degree. Couple these things with the fact that the sitting Republican President is one of the least popular in history and you have a recipe for electoral disaster.

I believe many good things can come out of this election for all even if your candidate did not win. No longer do little girls have to assume they have no chance to reach the highest political offices in the land. Sarah Palin, already the Governor of Alaska, would have been the first female Vice-President. Like her or not, she represents the new reality that achieving political success on the highest level is no longer out of reach for women. Equally important is the fact that people of color, be they of African, Asian, or Hispanic heritage, now know that it is possible to achieve anything. Whites remain the majority in this country. So, for Obama to have been elected, it means that more than just minority voters cast their ballots for him. This, even if Obama was not your choice, shows that many viewpoints on racial stereotypes have changed in our nation. While racism remains a very real evil, I think it does show real progress for our nation that so many were willing to embrace and vote for a black candidate. This, too, is a good thing.

In conclusion, whether your candidate won or lost, remember you are an American first. Be a mature and responsible citizen and maintain your respect for the office of the President. Teach that respect to your children. There is no room, on either side, for bitterness and hatred. Be classy and respectful in victory and remain noble and honorable in defeat. Remember that, despite it’s problems, this is still the greatest country in the history of the world. May God continue to bless America.

My best…

Classic Tune of the Week 7

For this week’s classic song I have chosen “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. The song was written by Simon and released in December of 1972. The song was an instant hit and became Simon’s first #1 single. “You’re So Vain” stayed atop Billboard’s Hot 100 for three weeks in early 1973. The song is listed at #72 on Billboard’s Greatest Songs of All Time.

“You’re So Vain” is a great song but part of it’s staying power is the ongoing mystery as to just who it is about. It is one of the great musical mysteries of its era and Carly Simon has been very coy as to the identity of the subject. This could be due to her very private nature, a desire to keep the mystery alive and, thus, keep interest in the song high, or a combination of both. While she has dropped cryptic hints from time to time, to my knowledge, she has never come out and acknowledged the name of this narcissistic gentleman. Popular guesses include Mick Jagger (who sings uncredited background vocals on the song), Cat Stevens, Kris Kristofferson, William Donaldson (Simon’s unfaithful ex-fiance), ex-husband James Taylor, and, most famously, Warren Beatty.

I have always liked “You’re So Vain”. Even as a kid I enjoyed listening to it though I never did understand the “clouds in my coffee” line. I get a chuckle these days whenever I hear the song played. You see, “You're So Vain” is one of two songs I had, very publicly, dedicated to me on a radio program while I was in college. I will save the title of the other song for another time. There are some pretty good stories behind each of these “loving” dedications. Needless to say, those two relationships didn’t work out. I just can’t imagine why anyone would dedicate “You’re So Vain” to me ☺.

Hit the video showing Simon at her piano leaning into her microphone at an outdoor concert (filmed at Martha's Vineyard, I believe) to hear the song. While there are several videos to choose from, this is my favorite as it is a very strong live performance. Who knows, maybe you will figure out who the song is about.

My best…

Missing In Action

A couple of folks have asked me why I haven't posted much lately. Basically, the answer can be summed up in two words : football season. This is easily the busiest time of the year for me. I practice my kids on Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. We play our games on Tuesday nights. I scout for the high school on Friday nights or go see my oldest daughter play saxophone in her high school band. On Saturday mornings after I scout, I present my scouting reports to the high school coaches. Sunday mornings I am in church and Sunday afternoons are reserved for yard work and naps (yes, I now take naps).

As you can see, my schedule is pretty full. However, relief is in sight. Football season is over in four weeks. I do coach basketball but that season is far less intense than football season. I should be able to pick up the pace at that point.

So, until football is over I will likely only be able to post the occasional song of the week. Hopefully, you guys won't forget all about me during this time of hiatus.

My best...

Classic Tune of the Week 6

And now for something completely different…

I have chosen a country /pop tune called “You Don’t Know Me” for this week’s classic song. The song has been recorded dozens of times by many different artists. The version I like best was recorded in the early 1980s by country star Mickey Gilley.

Gilley is best known as the owner of the world famous, for a time anyway, “Gilley’s” night club / honkytonk in Pasadena, Texas (just outside Houston). Gilley had long been a second tier country star when the film “Urban Cowboy” came out in 1980. “Gilley’s” was immortalized in the movie and mechanical bulls, boots, cowboy hats, and western shirts with pearled snaps became all the rage. The movie also gave a huge bump to the careers of Charlie Daniels, Johnny Lee, and, most notably, Mickey Gilley.

Gilley took advantage of his good fortune by recording numerous songs that cracked the Billboard Top 100 Country Chart. Several of these songs, including “You Don’t Know Me”, crossed over and made their mark on the Billboard Pop Chart as well.

Mickey Gilley has sometimes been dismissed as a light weight due to the fact that most of his biggest hits were covers of songs written and made well known by other artists. However, for a time during the early 1980s he was as big a star as there was in country music.

Hit the video bar (close up photo of Mickey Gilley in his cowboy hat) to hear the song. You may want to hold the cursor over the photo to make sure you get the right video as several songs are represented by the same photo. If this photo does not appear immediately just be patient as the videos will cycle through. The video consists of a photo of Mickey Gilley behind an old record player spinning a 33 rpm album. Not too high tech to be sure but this is about the song and not the production value, after all. As usual, ignore any extra videos that have tagged along.

My best…

The House That Ruth Built

This weekend will mark the end of something special. Sunday, the New York Yankees will host the Baltimore Orioles in what will be the final game ever played in “The House That Ruth Built”. After the ballgame this Sunday, the lights will dim for the last time and the sun will set on an iconic sports cathedral.

Yankee Stadium was completed in 1923 and was something of a wonder. It was the first triple decked stadium in the country. The extra seats were necessary to accommodate the throngs that clamored to the park to see Babe Ruth hit. Fittingly, Mr. Ruth connected on that April 23 opening day to become the first player to homer in this soon to be historic venue. On hand that day were baseball commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis, New York Governor Al Smith, and thousands of fans decked out in topcoats and fedoras. Baseball history was made that day and would continue to be made over the next eight decades.

Yankee stadium hosted many major sporting events over the years. Joe Louis knocked out Max Schmeling here in 1938. Alan Ameche scored in overtime to lead the Baltimore Colts to an NFL championship over the New York Giants in 1958, in what many call the greatest football game ever, at Yankee Stadium. Chuck Bednarik of the Philadelphia Eagles nearly killed Frank Gifford there, knocking him out cold, in 1960. Ken Norton and Muhammad Ali battled there in 1976. Pele helped popularize soccer in 1977 when he came to play for the Cosmos, who called Yankee Stadium home.

However, it is the success of the Yankees and their many great players that have truly made Yankee Stadium unique among stadiums. This is where Ruth hit his 60th home run in 1927, Roger Maris his 61st in 1961, and Alex Rodriguez his 500th in 2007. This is where the legendary Mickey Mantle came within a foot of being the only player to hit a fair ball completely out of the stadium when his monster home run off of Kansas City’s Bill Fischer hit the right field façade, 110 feet above field level, in 1963. It was here, at Yankee Stadium, that Reggie Jackson hit three home runs on three consecutive Los Angeles Dodger pitches in the 1977 World Series. Don Larsen pitched a perfect game in Game 5 of the 1956 World Series against the Brooklyn Dodgers from the Yankee Stadium mound. Perhaps, the two most famous and bitter-sweet moments were Lou Gehrig’s “luckiest man on the face of the earth” speech in 1939 and Babe Ruth’s farewell address eight years later.

To think of the greats that called Yankee Stadium home is to take a trip down the Yankee wing of the baseball hall of fame. Tony Lazzeri, Joe DiMaggio, Whitey Ford, Yogi Berra, Mickey Mantle, Lou Gehrig, Babe Ruth, Reggie Jackson, Catfish Hunter, Goose Gossage, Dave Winfield, and Wade Boggs come to mind along with personal favorites Thurman Munson, Ron Guidry, Don Mattingly, Bernie Williams, Graig Nettles, and Dave Righetti. Future hall of famers like Derek Jeter, Mariano Rivera, Roger Clemens, and Alex Rodriguez have graced the playing field in recent years. Twenty-six world championships were won in Yankee Stadium's eight decades of life.

It is true that the old Yankee Stadium has been gone for many years. The place has been extensively remodeled twice over the years. Yet despite changes in appearance, you could sit in the stands and look upon the very spot where Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, or Mickey Mantle stood. It was something special to gaze upon Monument Park and relive the memories of great Yankees players and managers past. True baseball royalty called this place home. Going to a game at Minute Maid Park or Bank One Park just isn’t the same sort of experience.

I was fortunate enough to get to see a game at Yankee Stadium a couple of years ago. To see a game there had been on my “to do before I die” list since I was a kid. I saw a great inter-league game between the Yankees and San Diego Padres. It was a very well played pitcher’s duel the Yankees won 3-2. The winning run was manufactured in classic fashion. Derek Jeter singled, stole second, was sacrificed to third, and driven home via a sacrifice fly. Ironically, no home runs were hit that afternoon. It didn’t matter. It was a glorious day for me. I grinned like an idiot the entire day. I did see, however, that Yankee Stadium was dying. Concrete was crumbling, some seats were in bad shape, and the concourses smelled bad. While I’m sad that Yankee Stadium will be gone soon, I saw that a new stadium was badly needed.

It is true that “The House That Ruth Built” will soon be gone but the franchise that Ruth led to relevancy will remain. It is sad that this year’s team will miss the playoffs. Yankee Stadium will not go out with a bang but with a whimper. It deserves better. Life doesn’t always serve up a fairy tale ending, however. Not even for twenty -six time world champions. Hopefully, the ghosts of Yankee Stadium are only in hibernation and not truly dead. Maybe, just maybe, they will find their way across 161st street to the new Yankee Stadium. I hope so.

My best…

Goodbye to The Bear

Don Haskins died last week. His passing did receive some media attention but not much. It received so little attention, in fact, that I did not find out about his passing until today. It is true that it has been 42 years since Haskins changed this country forever. That is a long time to be sure but for his death to receive only a 30 second blurb on the evening news is a travesty. What’s that? Who was Don Haskins? If you don’t know don’t feel too bad. You are far from alone. Allow me to enlighten you, if only a bit. Don (The Bear) Haskins was, depending on who you ask, a grumpy S.O.B., a compassionate soul who helped those less fortunate and stayed true to those who were loyal to him, a champion for civil rights, an exploiter of black athletes, or, simply, one of the greatest basketball coaches of all time.

Don Haskins grew up in Enid, Oklahoma in the 1940s. He was a basketball junkie. A gym rat who loved the game. He loved the game so much, in fact, that he shot baskets on one end of his high school gym while his senior prom was being held on the other end. Haskins loved the game so much that he became one of the best players in the state of Oklahoma and was invited to play for the legendary Henry Iba at Oklahoma A&M (now Oklahoma State). He loved the game so much that he played almost daily on a public court in Government Springs Park against a young black man named Herman Carr. It was here, playing against Carr, something he was not supposed to be doing, that the groundwork for Haskin’s philosophy on race was laid down. Being called one of the best players in the state and getting a college scholarship seemed a bit hollow once Haskins realized there was a guy right across town who might be better than he was who would never get the opportunity to play college ball. Haskins once said, “I remember thinking how unfair it was that this guy couldn’t play. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any equality back then.” That would be the closest thing to a social commentary you would ever get out of The Bear. His actions, however, spoke volumes.

Haskins arrived in El Paso to coach the Texas Western (now UTEP) Miners and stayed 38 years. He won a lot of games, 719 to be exact. It is one game, however, for which he is most remembered. That game was the 1966 NCAA championship game where Haskin’s Miners took on the mighty Kentucky Wildcats and their legendary coach, Adolph Rupp. Haskins and the Miners beat Rupp and the Wildcats that night 72-65 in a huge upset. What was most notable, however, was not the final score but the lineup Haskins put on the floor that night. Haskins started five black players against the all white Kentucky team. His top two reserves were also black. This was the first time an all black starting lineup appeared in an NCAA game. He wasn’t trying to make any kind of statement. “I just wanted to win the game, “ he said.

The aftermath of that championship game was very hard on Haskins. He received more than 40,000 pieces of hate mail and over a dozen death threats including one particularly disturbing one the following year while the Miners were in Dallas to play SMU. The letter simply promised, “I’m gonna shoot your nigger-loving ass.” This particular threat was taken so seriously that Haskins and school officials notified the FBI. As the miners gathered up before the game one of the players kept running around the huddle. Haskins asked him what he was doing and the player replied simply, “A moving target is harder to hit.” So it went for Haskins for years after the 1966 national championship.

Don Haskins opened the door for black athletes. Opportunities and scholarships became much more available to these kids after Texas Western’s historic victory. He, intentionally or not, blew through a roadblock and opened up a path that has led to some of the racial diversity you see in collegiate athletics today. Would this have happened eventually without Haskins all black starting five? No doubt, yes. Eventually, some coach would have screwed up his courage and done the same thing. The fact is, however, that Don Haskins was the one who did it first. For that he deserves our respect.

So, now you know who Don (The Bear) Haskins was and what he was all about. If you want to know more you can watch the 2006 movie based on that 1966 championship season called “Glory Road”. It is a pretty good movie and is faithful to how that season played out. The Bear, however, was probably embarrassed by the attention. After all, he “Just wanted to win the game.” Rest well, Coach.

My best…

Classic Tune of the Week 5

I've decided to post one of my favorite songs from my college years this week. The song is "18 and Life" by the rock band Skid Row.

Back in the late eighties and early nineties, glam/hair metal was at it's peak. While I must admit to a weakness for this genre, Skid Row, along with Guns n Roses, generally were considered outside the "hair band" mainstream. They were thought of by hard core rock fans to be the real deal.

"18 and Life" was the second single released from the band's self titled 1989 album. It would become the band's biggest hit reaching #4 on Billboard's Hot 100 chart. Many have called the song a power ballad but I would disagree. It has a decidedly raw and heavy edge that made it just as popular with guys as it was with the girls. It is a guitar driven song about a youth who leads a troubled life and ends up in prison for shooting and killing another young man. He is only 18 when he is imprisoned for life, hence the title.

A happy song it is not. However, it takes me back to a time when I had few responsibilities and guitar rock was king. It remains one of my favorites. Hit the video showing the young man in the leather jacket for the original video and radio version of the song. I hope you enjoy it.



My best...

Red Belly Day

School started up again this past week. I watched with amusement as the 7th and 8th graders wandered into the building on the first day. It is as quiet as they will be all year. They were just one big bleary- eyed hoard. The 6th graders, on the other hand, came in with a different sort of look on their faces. The look was a mix of confusion and fear. They really don’t have much to be worried about. They have their own hallway and don’t mix with the older kids much at all. However, you can’t convince them that they have nothing to worry about. You see, they’ve heard “stories” about what sometimes happens to 6th graders in middle school. I can relate to their fear as I, myself, as a 5th grader getting ready to make the jump to junior high once feared the dreaded “red belly day”.

All 5th grade boys lived in fear of the red belly. The story was that 8th graders from the junior high across the street would get together two or three times a year and venture over to the elementary school to administer the standard initiation for all soon to be 6th grade boys. That initiation was the much dreaded red belly. According to the legend, the older boys would grab a helpless little elementary kid and hold him down. One of them would then lift the little kid’s shirt up and slap him on the stomach repeatedly thus creating the “red belly”. This may sound ridiculous now but let me tell you there wasn’t a 5th grader in school who wasn’t terrified of the thought of receiving a red belly. Hazing was still very much alive back in the late 1970s and early 1980s so it seemed plausible to us.

Several times during the year the rumor would be whispered that it was red belly day and we had better all watch out. It didn’t matter that nobody actually knew anyone who had received a red belly (we assumed nobody had survived) as the mere mention of this being “the day” would send scores of 5th grade boys into a panic. All the proof we needed that this was a real phenomenon was the fact that our elementary school let out 15 minutes earlier than the junior high. The reason for this, it was surmised, was to give us a head start on the blood-thirsty belly busting 8th graders. Lingerers who failed to take advantage of this head start risked being pounded. I’m willing to bet that nobody hated red belly day more than the school nurse. Without fail, 5th grade boys would become “ill” en masse and need to go home early. I wonder if that nurse ever knew what was really behind these miniature epidemics? Red belly day was also the day we all decided to run, not walk, home from school. We weren’t scared, of course, we just needed some extra exercise.

Needless to say, I never received a red belly nor did any of my friends. Of course, once I reached junior high safely I perpetuated the legend of the red belly by telling my younger brothers what was waiting for them on an, as yet, undecided date. I know my friends did the same with their little brothers. To the best of my knowledge, the legend lives on to this very day in my hometown.

As far as I know, the legend of the red belly was confined to my little corner of Southeast Texas. However, every now and then I will catch a glimpse of a 6th grade boy running down the street away from our campus for all he’s worth and I wonder if maybe, just maybe, he isn’t running for “extra exercise” but because of his fear of having his mid-section beaten on like a bongo drum.

As the 6th graders came into school this week I tried my best not to chuckle at their stuttering voices and big as saucers eyes. After all, I understand their fear. Even now, once or twice a year I will have a dream where I am running down Helena Avenue away from a pack of torch bearing pitchfork wielding 8th graders who want nothing more than to slap my belly until it turns fire engine red. Rational? Maybe not, but what if there is a list of the "one's that got away" out there somewhere? That is why,even now, I always sit with my back to the wall when we go out to eat. After all, those 8th graders are relentless.

My best…

Classic Tune of the Week 4

The classic songs I’ve posted the past few weeks have been decidedly mellow. This week I decided to liven it up a bit. I have chosen the song “I Want You To Want Me” by Cheap Trick as my song of the week.

Cheap Trick first came to prominence in the U.S. in the late 1970s. They combined a hard- edged yet melodic pop sound with a speed and energy of a punk rock band. Their 1979 album “Live at Budokan” launched them in the realm of arena rock and made them super stars. Their hits include the singles “Surrender”, “Dream Police”, “Stop This Game”, “Don’t Be Cruel”, and “The Flame”. To date, the band has sold more than 20 million albums and was voted #25 on VH1’s list of Greatest Artists of Hard Rock.

The live version of “I Want You To Want Me” from the Budokan album is the version everyone remembers. I can recall hearing it played repeatedly on the jukebox at Ken’s Pizza after Friday football games back in my early junior high days. It is one of those songs that everybody seems to know the words to even today.



There are several versions of "I Want You To Want Me" on the video bar to the right. Avoid the other stuff that, as usual, has tagged along. I hope you enjoy it.

My best...

Coach #6

As always, click on the strip for a larger view.

My best...

Classic Tune of the Week 3

This weeks’ song is the hit “Lyin’ Eyes” by the Eagles. The song first appeared on the bands’ 1975 album “One of These Nights”. The song achieved a rare double by reaching #2 on Billboard’s Hot 100 chart and # 9 on the U.S. Country charts. The song won a Grammy Award in the “Best Pop Performance by a Group” category. This was the first of five Grammy’s won by the band.

The song is a fairly straightforward story about a woman trapped in a loveless marriage to a wealthy older man. She finds herself in a miserable situation where she tells lie after lie to both her husband and a boyfriend. The song wraps up with her wondering how she ended up in this situation and thinking about a boy from back in her school days. She feels foolish for the choices she’s made and realizes that she doesn’t like the person she’s become.

“Lyin’ Eyes” comes in as my second favorite Eagles song, trailing only the monstrously successful “Hotel California”. Despite the success of the song back in the 1970s and the continued popularity of the Eagles, the song doesn’t get much airplay these days. I felt that it was deserving of being highlighted here. I hope you enjoy it.

My best…

P.S. - There are several versions of “Lyin’ Eyes” to choose from on the right in the video bar. I recommend one of the live concert versions. Some of the other videos, once again, just tagged along. I strongly advise ignoring them.

The Dumbing Down of "Big D"

There really aren’t too many things that leave me speechless. However, I was stunned today to see the new grading policy that the Dallas ISD has approved for the coming school year. Nothing the Dallas ISD does should surprise any of us anymore but this new grading policy is a new low for one of the worst school districts in the state and, probably, the country.

According to an article written by Kent Fischer, and published this morning in the Dallas Morning News, the DISD has passed standardized grading guidelines that will not punish students for late work, failure to turn in homework, or failing tests. That’s right, folks. This year in the DISD your child can refuse to do his homework, fail his tests, miss all his deadlines, and still expect to pass with flying colors. Some highlights, or lowlights, if you prefer, of the new DISD policy read like this:

•Homework grades should be given only when the grades will "raise a student's average, not lower it."

•Teachers must accept overdue assignments, and their principal will decide whether students are to be penalized for missing deadlines.

•Students who flunk tests can retake the exam and keep the higher grade.

•Teachers cannot give a zero on an assignment unless they call parents and make "efforts to assist students in completing the work."

Isn’t that just wonderful? How great is it that only homework that raises a student average is allowed to count? Where was this policy when I was struggling in Trig in high school? Hey, here’s a question…how do you get an average in the first place if, say, little Johnny fails to ever turn in an assignment to start with?

I see complete disaster looming for the classroom teacher here. It is already next to impossible to get rid of trouble makers that destroy the learning environment. Now, if the kids are not even required to do their assignments, what are teachers going to use to keep a disciplined and orderly classroom environment? They’ve got nothing and don’t think that the kids won’t know it. I also see huge repercussions in athletics. How does the UIL deal with students that are allowed to remain eligible in Dallas who never turn in an assignment? Hey, who cares as long as our QB stays eligible, right?

The shame of all this is that it is really damaging to minority students. The DISD is less than 10% white. What DISD officials are saying is that they believe black and Hispanic students can’t do the same work as their white counterparts. They have decided to lower the standards for these kids when exactly the opposite is what is needed. I’m no fan of the Jesse Jacksons and Al Sharptons of the world but, in my opinion, THIS is the sort of thing that should protested long and loud. By having not just low but NO expectations for these kids, the DISD is only sending the message that “you can’t do it” and “we’ve given up on you”.

I fully understand many of the issues facing the DISD. I, myself, teach in a school district where the combined minority population makes up the majority of students. Often, there is a parenting malaise that is hard to overcome. Many times, school is seen as just a place to deposit the kids for 6-8 hours a day. The importance of education just is not stressed in many of these homes. That may not be politically correct to say but it is true. These factors are difficult to combat. Giving up, however, is not the answer. All the DISD has done is ensure that these kids will be asking, “Do you want fries with that?” for the rest of their lives.

My best...

Classic Tune of the Week 2

Long as I remember, the rain’s been comin’ down,
Clouds of mystery pouring confusion on the ground.
Good men through the ages, trying to find the sun
And I wonder, still I wonder, who’ll stop the rain?

From: "Who'll Stop The Rain" by John Fogerty

The classic tune of the week is John Fogerty’s “Who’ll Stop The Rain”. The song originally appeared on Creedence Clearwater Revival’s 1970 album “Cosmo’s Factory”. It achieved a high of #2 on the American charts and, in 2004, Rolling Stone voted the song #188 on its’ “500 Greatest Songs of All Time” list.

John Fogerty has long been one of my favorite artists. His unique style and distinctive voice make him unlike anyone who has come before him or since. I actually “discovered” Fogerty during his comeback in the mid 1980s. I liked his songs “The Old Man Is Down The Road” and “Centerfield” from the album of the same name. I got even more into Fogerty and his old CCR work after seeing “An American Werewolf In London” which featured the song “Bad Moon Rising”.

“Who’ll Stop The Rain” seems to break neatly into three parts. The first verse seems to be a thinly veiled lament over the ongoing Vietnam War. The second verse, with its’ line about "five-year plans and new deals wrapped in golden chains" seems to express a sense of resignation and frustration regarding politicians in general. The third verse is clearly a reference to what Fogerty saw and experienced at Woodstock in 1969.

Hit the clip to the right showing Fogerty on stage with his guitar to hear this classic song. This video is taken from a concert filmed in front of a live audience at Warner Bros. Studios on December 12th, 1997 for what became a PBS special. Several other classic Fogerty/CCR song performances from the same concert can be seen as well.

The lyrics of “Who’ll Stop The Rain” seem as relevant today as they did in 1970. Who will stop the rain? It is a shame the question still must be asked 38 years after the song was written.

My best…

P.S. - I don't know what the deal is with the "digital piano" videos that tagged along with these others. One of these days I'll figure out how to pull just the one video I want. In the meantime, just hold your cursor over the pictures and after a second or two the name of the video will pop up. If "Who'll Stop The Rain" doesn't appear at first just hang on and let the videos cycle through. It will pop up shortly.

Coach #5

As always, double click the strip for a larger view.

My best...

Classic Tune of the Week 1

I've decided to post video and/or audio once a week, or so, of some classic and nearly forgotten old songs. Be warned that my taste in music is very eclectic. You will likely see everything from heavy metal to Barry Manilow at one time or another.

I've chosen an old Linda Ronstadt song called "It Doesn't Matter Anymore" for this first week. My Dad was a huge Ronstadt fan and that is how I first became familiar with her music. So, this one is for you Dad. I hope you enjoy it.

Click the video of Linda holding her guitar to the right. That is the video I wanted to show. The others just kind of came with it against my will. Some are other great classic Ronstadt songs. Others....well, you be the judge. Anyway, if the box with Linda holding her guitar doesnt show at first just hang on a second or two and it should cycle through. You can also refresh the page as well. I hope to figure out how to zero it in to just one video later.




My best...

Whiffle Ball Wars

As a P.E. teacher/coach, one of the activities I most look forward to during the school year is the annual whiffle ball unit. My enthusiasm stems partially from a life long love of the game of baseball. However, the main reason I love the whiffle ball unit is that it takes me back to the summers of my youth when my two brothers, our friend Erik, and I would wage many a whiffle ball war in our front yard. I played organized baseball as a kid, of course. I went from Pee Wee League, to Little League, to Babe Ruth League ball. While I was successful and enjoyed my time in these leagues, I don’t think I ever enjoyed the game more than when the four of us got together and battled with that plastic bat and ball in the yard.

We didn’t start out playing whiffle ball. We had played ball using real bats and a tennis ball in a vacant lot down the block from our house. It was really a great set up until some greedy contractor had the nerve to build a house on that lot. I still remember the morning we walked down to play and saw that foundation work had begun. This is still a sensitive topic in my family. Whenever it is mentioned, if you look closely at my brother Greg, you can see tears welling up in his eyes. Poor Erik wore black for weeks he was so upset. It is rumored that he toyed with a voodoo doll that looked a lot like the contractor responsible but to no avail. Each of us still makes it a point to spit in that yard whenever we are in the old neighborhood.

Fortunately, we discovered whiffle ball. A whiffle ball is a baseball sized plastic ball that has a lot of holes in it. It looks just like those practice golf balls only bigger. The great thing about it is it won’t fly too far making it ideal for smaller areas like a gym or our front yard. We couldn’t really play true baseball as there were only two people per team but we adapted our rules and came up with a true hybrid game. Balls that were fair and hit the ground were ruled singles, balls that landed fair and rolled across the driveway were doubles, balls that landed fair and then rolled into the street and along the curb were triples, and balls that cleared the driveway on the fly were homers. Any ball caught in the air was an out. A batter could also be put out by tagging him with the ball, or hitting him with a thrown ball, before he reached base. We enjoyed this violent aspect of the game immensely. We also had to employ the ever popular “ghost runner” quite a bit.

My brother Steve was the best pitcher. He didn’t throw hard but could make that whiffle ball dance and dart like you couldn’t believe. He would not only strike you out but embarrass you as well. I remember once taking a mighty swing at what must have been a screwball. It looked like a strike until it broke sharply into my body. You haven’t been humiliated until you strike out swinging at a ball that ends up hitting you in the crotch. That, my friends, is pain on several different levels.

We took these games very seriously. We would keep stats and standings and the losers would endure a lot of trash talking. We even wore those plastic MLB batting helmet replicas. It was probably cute for a while but it got a little embarrassing as we entered late junior high and early high school. We would keep a sharp eye out for anyone coming down the street that we knew (especially girls). If we saw anyone coming we would “take a break” and get out of sight until the interlopers passed. Despite the potential for social catastrophe that was always present when we donned the plastic helmets and went to battle with the plastic ball and bat we kept it up until I (the oldest) was a junior in high school. Were we nerds? A thousand times yes. Would I love to go back just one more time to get another crack at Steve’s breaking ball? A thousand times yes, again.

I came across two of my old plastic batting helmets in the attic a couple of weeks ago. I will admit to you that I tried them on. I didn’t have a mirror up there but I knew I looked good. For just a moment I was back with the guys waiting for that one fat pitch that I could deposit over the driveway for a homerun. Then my wife called to me from the garage below. I quickly removed the helmet before she saw me wearing it. It wasn’t that I was embarrassed, I just, like in the old days, needed to “take a break”.

My best…

Coach #4

As always, double click strip for a larger view.

My best...

Here Wie Go Again

The star-crossed career of Michelle Wie has taken another bizarre turn this week. The 18 year old has accepted a sponsor’s exemption to play in the Legends Reno-Tahoe Open, a men’s PGA event, this week. What’s the big deal, you say? Wie has, after all, played in men’s events before. What makes this a bit different is that she is skipping an LPGA major in order to play with the guys this time around.

The Women’s British Open will be played this week and it seems some of the ladies on the LPGA don’t appreciate Wie’s blowing off one of their four biggest events of the year in order to play with the boys. Annika Sorenstam, an 11 time major champion and winner of 73 LPGA events, said that if Wie couldn’t qualify for this weeks’ ladies event she didn’t have any business playing against the guys. David Leadbetter coached Wie for years and said that she has a lot more to lose than gain by playing against the men at this stage in her career and faults her parents for steering her in the wrong direction.

The gents on the PGA tour seem ambivalent about Wie’s participation in this weeks’ event. David Duval said Wie’s attempts to play with the men, “has never bothered me in the least.” Though he did add, “I’m not sure the PGA Tour is the place to gain confidence. You can get your head beat in pretty quick out there.” Scott McCarron added, “I think it is great. It’s creating a lot of buzz for the tournament.”

McCarron’s comments actually get right to the heart of why Wie has been invited to play this week. The Legends Reno-Tahoe Open is, to be blunt, a second tier PGA event. The top 50 players in the world will all be playing in the World Golf Championships in Ohio this week. The highest ranked player participating this week is Ben Crane at #87 in the world. This is not a great recipe for high television ratings. The solution? Invite the one time phenom Wie. This creates instant buzz and controversy, generates interest, and might, just might, get some viewers to check out a tournament they would not care about otherwise. This is a move that has very little down side for the tournament sponsors. It is true that Wie’s attempts to play with the men have lost their novelty. However, it just may work one more time as the second tier field gives Wie her best shot at actually making a PGA cut. If not, it certainly won’t hurt the ratings.

Wie, herself, seems unconcerned with the criticism. She said, “All I’m thinking about is trying to play good golf.” I guess that is fair enough. However, I feel Wie needs to first establish herself on the LPGA tour before trying to mix it up with the boys. She has, or at least had, the potential to be one of the great women golfers of our time. Hopefully, she will realize this and get back to competing against the ladies. Otherwise, Wie could find herself playing the part of the Washington Generals to the PGA men’s Globetrotters on a regular basis. I would hate to think someone as gifted as Wie would squander her talents as a mere novelty act. Hopefully, somebody in the Wie family will visit the Wizard and get a brain. Otherwise, Michelle Wie may forever be remembered for what might have been.

Washington State Slide Show

Washington State Trip

Hello, all. I have just returned from a week long trip to Washington State. I had always wanted to visit the Pacific Northwest and when the opportunity presented itself I jumped on it. I, and some friends, camped between Mt. St. Helens and Skookum Meadow. It has to be the most beautiful country I've ever seen (at least in person). Of course, my being a bigfoot geek, it held extra appeal as Skamania County is the number one county in the United States for bigfoot sightings. Alas, despite our best efforts, the big fella failed to make an appearance. However, I did manage to spot several elk, a couple of black tailed deer, a fox, and a black bear. We also saw a whole lot of bear scat, cat scat (bobcat, probably), some very large canine prints, and one set of VERY big cat prints (had to be a cougar). We were surprised to hear barred owls which are common in Texas, as well. According to the locals, the barred owls are supplanting the endangered spotted owls in the region. I was awakened on my last morning by a large bull elk bugling from the valley below our camp site. Pretty cool.

It was a terrific time and hope to return one of these days. I have attached a slide show above made up of some of the pictures I snapped while on the trip. The pictures just do not do justice to the scale and majesty of the area but they are pretty nice and I hope you enjoy them.

My best...

Nineteen Somethin'

I saw Star Wars at least eight times
Had the Pacman pattern memorized
And I’ve seen the stuff they put inside Stretch Armstrong.

I was Roger Staubach in my back yard
Had a shoebox full of baseball cards
And a couple of Evel Knievel scars on my right arm.

From : “Nineteen Somethin” by Mark Wills

I’m a pretty sentimental guy. I’m not one of those pack rat types who never throws anything away because it has some sort of memory attached to it. I am more sentimental when it comes to remembering people and places from the past. I do not spend my time looking back as that is a good way to run into a telephone pole. However, sometimes something will trigger a memory of someone or something from my past. It seems that music and smells trigger my memories like nothing else. The feeling can be so strong that it makes me wonder if time travel, on some level, is really possible. I had such a moment just the other day when the song “Nineteen Somethin’” by Mark Wills came on the car radio. While this is not a song from my youth, the lyrics nail my early childhood as no song before ever has.

I was born in late 1966. As a result, my earliest memories come from the ‘70s. I, and my brothers, did see Star Wars at least eight times. I’m actually thinking it was more like twelve times. I, too, have seen the stuff they put inside Stretch Armstrong. During one memorable battle between Stretch and his evil nemesis Stretch Monster, the “stuff” came leaking out. It was a red gooey liquid that looked like melted strawberry jello. I can personally attest that it is not easy to get out of carpet. This proved to be a negative to my mother. However, it turned into a positive as this forensic evidence allowed for the prosecution and conviction of the much more durable Stretch Monster. He would never threaten society again.

Some of the most enduring memories I have from the ‘70s are of Evel Knievel and his many appearances on ABC’s Wide World of Sports. It is hard to get kids today to understand just how big Evel was back in the day. His motorcycle jumps seem tame compared to many of the X-Game type stunts performed today. However, nobody had seen anything like it in the ‘70s. You also have to remember that this was back before cable television. We were pretty much limited to the three main networks. There was a rumor of a public television station in our area but we couldn’t get it. Much of the programming on the networks left a lot to be desired (a lot like now). So, when Evel was scheduled to make a jump on a Saturday afternoon it would draw Superbowl like ratings. I’ve often wondered how many broken armed little boys showed up in emergency rooms across the country on the afternoons after an Evel Knievel jump.

As a result of Evel’s popularity, a line of toys was created. The toys were a huge success. The heart of the toy line was the Evel Knievel stunt cycle (see pic above). The set consisted of a Harley-Davidson motorcycle, an Evel Knievel action figure (remember boys have action figures not dolls), and a base. The way it worked was that the Evel action figure was placed on his motorcycle, which was then placed on the base. The base had a handle, which you turned. This engaged a gear on the base, which, in turn, turned a gear on the toy motorcycle. Once the spinning reached the proper speed the motorcycle would disengage and take off. Sometimes the bike required a bit of a push to get free from the base but the results were always spectacular. Though I was never able to get Evel to replicate the back flip I saw on the commercials, I jumped many a row of shoes. What made it even better was how the tires of the motorcycle were made of real rubber and left great skid marks on the light colored linoleum of our home. Again, mom did not see this as a positive. I have to give mom a lot of credit, however, as she put up with a lot of black marked floors and baseboards in the hall that were permanently scraped free of paint due to Evel’s less than graceful landings. Truly the Evel Knievel stunt cycle was one of the greatest toys of my childhood. I think it was about a year ago that Evel Knievel died. Part of my childhood went with him.

As I mentioned before, I was in my car when Mark Wills began singing “Nineteen Somethin’” the other day. My lovely wife of sixteen years noticed my far away look as the first verses played. She asked me what I was thinking about. I replied simply that I wasn’t thinking. I was remembering.

My best…

Coach #3

As always, double click on the strip for a larger view.

My best...

The Ballad of "Baggy"

Coaching middle school boys is…well, very different than coaching high school boys. My main duties as a middle school coach are to teach solid fundamentals and do all I can to keep as many boys as possible in the program. I’m expected to send as many players as I can up to the high school football team. The theory is that the more kids they have to pick from, the more good athletes they will be able to find. It makes sense if you think about it and it is good for me as it lessens the pressure to win every game on the middle school level. The drawback is that I’m expected to keep pretty much everybody. It is true that some kids who can’t walk and chew gum at the same time in middle school will blossom into good athletes in high school. However, I’ve found that 99.9% of the time a middle school spaz will grow into a high school spaz. This is the true story of one of those kids I had to endure knowing full well he would never play a down in high school.

“Baggy”, the nickname his fellow students bestowed upon him, was actually kind of a cute kid. He was very short and pudgy. He wore round glasses with black frames that made him look like a cross between an owl and Harry Potter (Sort of a mini Larry King). The lenses were very thick. The kid had the eyesight of a mole. He was a very poor athlete and, possibly, the slowest kid I’ve ever coached. I could have timed his forty yard dash with a sundial. The other kids picked on “Baggy” unmercifully. They were terrible to him. I don’t think a day went by that somebody didn’t pull “Baggy’s” underwear up to his neck. I really felt bad for him and tried to protect him as best I could. Then a funny thing happened. I realized that “Baggy” was a horrible little kid. He was rude, obnoxious, crude, and a general dill weed. The other kids didn’t pick on him because he was some little helpless nerd. They were just retaliating for some terrible thing “Baggy” had said to them.

As the season went on I still had to protect “Baggy”. This kid could not keep his mouth shut and all my other players wanted to kill him. I was often tempted to put “Baggy” into some sort of practice drill where he would get what was coming to him, but I didn’t. I’d like to say it was my superior morality that prevented me from doing this but it was more my fear of lawyers. Anyway, the season progressed and I managed to keep “Baggy” alive. I even managed to get him into each game for a play or two.

Our second to last game was against a team from across town. I hated away games that year because I had to sit next to “Baggy”. I had to do this to protect him from the horde in the back of the bus that wanted to do him much bodily harm. I REALLY did not enjoy his company on these bus rides. Well, we arrived and the game began. Needless to say, “Baggy” did not play early in games when the outcome was still in doubt. He typically played one play a game toward the end of the fourth quarter once it was clear which way the game would go. This game was different, however, as we were a lot better than our opponents and got out to a big lead in the first half. So, I put “Baggy” in at cornerback for the last play of the second quarter (CB is a good place to hide a bad athlete in middle school as most teams don’t throw often). The opposing coach took one look at him and called a sweep to his side of the field. Their running back was a big guy and took dead aim at “Baggy” in the flat. Now the poor kid was terrified and completely frozen in his tracks. Their running back could have easily gone around him. However, he lowered his shoulder and collided head on with “Baggy”. At the point of contact their seemed to be some kind of explosion. Small colorful objects flew in all directions. I really thought “Baggy” had blown up and his innards were being propelled all over the field. As “Baggy” lay on the field like a slug, I saw he was, in fact, completely intact. However, Smarties, Sweettarts, and Butterfingers surrounded his limp body. It seems “Baggy” tended to get hungry during games and had stuffed candy in his uniform pants to snack on while waiting for his one play. The referee never even blew the whistle to end the play. He just stood over the prostrate body of “Baggy” and softly said, “Unbelievable.”

The quality of football might not be as good in middle school as it is in high school. Nor do we play in huge beautiful stadiums. But I do know one thing. You will never see a fourth string cornerback blow up like a piñata on a Friday night in Texas. That sort of fun is reserved for Tuesday afternoons only.

My best…

Coach #2

Click on strip for larger version.

My best...

The Two Sides of Sports

I suppose, since I’m a coach, it goes without saying that I’m a big sports fan. That doesn’t mean that I don’t see the negative side of sports. I see the overzealous parents who drive their kids too hard, the way top athletes are spoiled and never held accountable for their poor behavior, and the ugly business side of sports that cause teams to dump fan favorites, inspire labor disputes, and lead to all the contract holdouts and demands of greedy players. However, when all is as it should be, sport reveals character like nothing else I know. You find out who is truly tough, who has the most guts, and who can rise above adversity to perform at their highest level. This weekend I got to see both sides of the sports coin. On the negative side, Brett Favre has decided to hold the Green Bay Packers hostage for about the third year in a row. On the positive side, I saw what had to be one of the greatest tennis matches in history as Rafael Nadal defeated Roger Federer in the men’s final at Wimbledon.

Favre, who retired six weeks after finishing up his 17th season last year, has decided he wants to play football again. This really doesn’t sound so bad on the surface as he is truly one of the all time greats to play the quarterback position. The problem is that Favre has pulled this routine several years in a row now and it is getting old. Favre has placed his team in a bad position. The Packers have three choices: allow Favre to return (and start), trade him, or release him. The Packers silence on all this speaks volumes. They really want him to stay retired. General Manager Ted Thompson and Head Coach Mike McCarthy have worked hard with Favre’s long time back up Aaron Rodgers getting him ready for the season. Rodgers has waited patiently for years for his shot and now, again, Favre has jerked the rug out from under him. The Packers really can’t trade or release Favre. Thompson and McCarthy don’t want to be known as the guys who ran, arguably, the greatest Packer ever out of town. Neither can they afford the backlash they would get if Favre were to lead another team to the playoffs while Rodgers struggled. I think Brett Favre should play football as long as he wants to and is able. I just think he needs to quit his flip- flop act so his team knows how to plan for the future. John Madden often says, “The great thing about Favre is that he is like a big kid out there.” That may be so, but kids tend to be selfish and self absorbed. They fail to see how their actions affect others. At some point all kids need to grow up and act like adults. That time is here for Brett Favre.

Meanwhile, over in jolly old England, Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer staged a Wimbledon final for the ages. I’m not really a huge tennis fan. To be honest, Wimbledon is about the only tournament I pay much attention to at all. However, you did not have to be John McEnroe to recognize the greatness displayed on Centre Court this past Sunday. Nadal, the up and coming French Open champ, was taking on Roger Federer, winner of five consecutive Wimbledon titles. There have been whispers this year about Federer slipping a notch. Nadal only upped the ante at the French where he humiliated Federer in straight sets. By the time this 4 hour 48 minute marathon was over, you realized that Federer hasn’t lost a thing. Instead, Nadal has just come on like a freight train. Federer showed the heart of a champion after losing the first two sets and fending off two match points in a fourth set tie- breaker. Nadal showed his mettle by regrouping after losing what seemed to be a commanding lead to win the deciding fifth set 9-7. Gone is Federer’s 65 match winning streak on grass and hopes of becoming the first man since the 1880’s to win six Wimbledon titles in a row. Instead, Nadal as ascended to the Wimbledon throne and wrested the title of best in the world from Federer (whether the rankings reflect it yet or not). However, if it were ever possible for two opponents to come out looking like winners, this was it. Rarely have I witnessed the guts, mental toughness, athleticism, and sheer will to win that I saw Sunday from these two men. It got right to the heart of why, despite the bad in sports, I remain a fan. It is the kind of thing that made me want to get into coaching all those years ago. I hope some of my athletes watched this match. I don’t coach tennis but the intangibles on display on the grass court of Wimbledon transcend any individual sporting discipline. What I hope my kids saw was what it takes to be a winner. A big thank you goes out to Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal for the reminder of just how good sport can be. They gave their best so I will leave you with mine.

My best…

Introducing the Coach

Today I'm introducing a little comic strip I have messed around with for years called "Coach". It is simply about the trials and tribulations of a middle school coach in a small town (sounds familiar). I suppose it is semi-autobiographical to a degree, but mostly it is fictional and just for fun. So, any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental (mostly). My artwork is a bit primitive but, hopefully, it won't take away from the effect (I'll post some real drawings I've done some other time). The strip appears a bit small on the blog screen. All you have to do is double click on it and you can read it at its full size.

I hope you will find it humorous.

My best...

The Case For Sasquatch

I mentioned in my introductory post that I’m a member of the Texas Bigfoot Research Conservancy and actively investigate bigfoot sightings in the Texas, Louisiana, Oklahoma, and Arkansas region. This would be considered a pretty unusual hobby by most. I suppose that it is, indeed, unusual. However, I strongly believe in the existence of these animals. I will not try to convince you, the reader, that the sasquatch is a real flesh and blood animal. Through painful experience, I have learned that such efforts are usually a waste of time. Instead, I will simply convey to you the reasons that have convinced me that these animals are more than myth and do exist. This will take longer than you might think, as I’ve researched the topic extensively. One of the first factors that caused me to stop and ponder the possibility that these animals existed are the many Native American and First Nations accounts of sasquatch-like creatures that pre date U.S. History.

Most people think that bigfoot was “born” in October 1958. That is when the Humboldt Times carried a picture of a road worker named Jerry Crew holding a plaster cast of a 16” long, human-like, footprint (see above picture). Crew made the cast from tracks left behind by “something” that visited the road construction site he was working on in Bluff Creek, California. The story hit the wire services and “bigfoot”, the tongue in cheek name given to the maker of the footprint, became part of the American lexicon. Whether these original tracks were authentic has been debated, but the point is that most people believe that nobody had an inkling that large, hairy, hominids might be roaming the woods of North America. This is a fallacy as many First Nations peoples knew of the sasquatch.

There are numerous stone and/or wooden carvings that seem to depict sasquatch-like creatures. For example, First Nation stone carvings dated between 1500 B.C – A.D. 500 show creatures with decidedly simian characteristics. Early paleontologist Q.C. Marsh, in an 1877 address, said, “Among many stone carvings that I saw there (Columbia River) were a number of heads which so strongly resemble those of apes that the likeness suggests itself.” Roderick Sprague, Emeritus Professor of Anthropology at the University of Idaho, said the carvings collected along the Columbia River showed, “non human but anthropoid features” and that “a relationship between these stone heads and the sasquatch phenomenon is suggested.” There are also examples of the sasquatch in wooden carvings and totems among various Native American tribes. A sasquatch mask created by Chehalis First Nations member Ambrose Point, clearly depicts a sasquatch. The mask is very large and, no doubt, is intended to reflect the size of the creature it represents. This mask was made in 1938, many years before the Bluff Creek incident hit the papers. Included in the pictures above is a copy of a Buk'wus mask made by the Kwakiutl tribe.

There are several examples of pictographs and/or petroglyphs, created by early Native Americans, depicting animals that seem to point to the sasquatch as the model. Probably the most well known example of pictographs comes from Painted Rock on the Tule River First Nations Reservation in California. These pictographs depict the “Hairy Man” of legend. This was a creature much larger than a man who was covered in hair and was cannibalistic (see third picture above). Petroglyphs found on the Rio Grande River north of the Pueblo village of Conchiti, New Mexico, show the hairy cannibal giantess that terrorized the tribe during it’s early history. One of these petroglyphs shows the giantess with an oval whistling mouth and is identical to the image of the D’sonoqua (wild woman of the woods) carved on a wooden totem by the Kwakiutl tribe 2,000 miles to the northwest. One other well known image was carved into a tree by native peoples in what is now the Salt Fork State Park in southeastern Ohio. It depicts the “grass man”, a bigfoot-like animal, the people of the region knew well.

The bottom line here folks, is that nearly every tribe that inhabited the North American continent knew of, and had a name for, what we call bigfoot long before the famous Bluff Creek incident. The Lakota Sioux called this creature Chiyetanka. The Turtle Mountain Objibway called it Rugaru. The Cree called it Windigo. Other tribes who knew the sasquatch were the Colville, Kwakiutl, Tsimshian, and Salish who called these animals S’cwene’y’ti, Buk’wus, Ba’oosh, and Sasqits, respectively. These are just a few examples and many more can easily be found with minimal effort. The fact that the widely distributed first Americans knew of these animals, had names for them, incorporated them into their art and mythology, and gave very similar descriptions as to their appearance, gave me much food for thought as to whether the sasquatch could indeed be a real flesh and blood animal.

In my next post on this subject, I will discuss how early newspaper accounts (pre 1958) helped me reach the conclusion that there really could be something to all this sasquatch stuff. Until then…

My best…


Much of the information cited came from Chris Murphy’s “Meet the Sasquatch”, John Green’s “Sasquatch : The Apes Among Us”, and Jeff Meldrum’s “ Sasquatch Legend Meets Science”. I would highly recommend each of these books to anyone who wants to become more knowledgeable on the subject of bigfoot.