Cornfield Playgrounds.

The cornfield I grew up playing in is gone now.

On a recent visit to my hometown I stood looking into the early morning sunrise at a street of designer brick ranches. While standing there looking at the development that encroaches on my childhood playground I thought to myself, “This isn’t a street. This is supposed to be the alley where I learned to ride my bicycle. The alley that leads into a familiar old cornfield.” Standing pat at the corner of that street was the brick ranch my parents built nearly three decades earlier.

My mind lulled back to the houses standing before me, “This is no longer home.”

I moved away from Columbus nearly four years ago. Ever since, that very thought has been threatening to wrap its arms around me. Torn between yesterday and tomorrow I’ve fought it and I’ve embraced it.

For 25 years Columbus Indiana was everything I’d known. My mother and father were there. Both of my sisters were there. My grandparents, my friends, and my schools…

Time was running short and I had to finish my goodbyes internally as I was driving away from this place.
This place I’ve always known, no longer recognize, and may never see again.

My wife-to-be, Rhiana, comforted me as much as she could, “You’re not supposed to be this upset on your birthday. I won’t allow it.” She was visually concerned for me and the heartache I was experiencing.

I smiled at her softly as the tears began to collect in my tired eyes.

Everyone succumbs to a moment such as this. Some are unaffected, some oblivious, some never leave, and some reach out and touch “home” one last time before they say goodbye.

I had just finished reaching out my last time. As I realized this, the collected tears started to pour.

Rhiana and I arrived in Providence a few days after the fond farewell to my cornfield playgrounds.

We were excited to be back. Excited to be home. It seemed so peaceful and familiar. Our “starter home” isn’t fancy, but it’s ours and we love it. The welcoming visions of our own living space and warm oak walls were comforting. Cozy wood floors and our own bed to sleep in, ah yes, it was good to be home. Well almost…In the kitchen, Rhiana looked at me standing motionless in front of the refrigerator… “It’s empty.”

We were also excited to be back to our bouncing babies. Buca and Kayla are our four and seven year old rescued Labrador Retrievers. You’d never know that though. They both appear to be full bred Labs. Buca weighs in at a nimble 50 pounds and he sports a long sleek shiny black coat. He loves the water and has a taste for chewing fine slippers. Kayla on the other hand is a land lab. She was obviously trained for use in the field. She is a stout 70 pound stick of pure good that we refer to as our “chocolate sweetness”. It was good to be home with our dogs. And not five minutes back in the house they were engulfed in the very same sentiment. They both curled snuggly into “little balls of fur” on the couch as if not a moment had passed.

In the days following our arrival from Columbus, Rhiana and I found ourselves getting back to our own norm. And almost immediately I found myself looking away from my past and towards our future.

“Our future.” That is a new concept. As in “our future wedding.”

For 29 years, I’ve been concerned with me. What I do, when I do it, how I do it, why I do it…Now I must intertwine my concerns with those of another whole person.

People ask me if I’m nervous about becoming a married man. I always answer “Why would I be nervous?”

They point out the statistics and all the jargon about the failure of the modern day marriage. I am in banking and I am a man of numbers. In my head I hear the rational opinions, “Blah blah blah.”
I know all that crap is out there. I don’t buy it. I think marriage is completely unrelated to numbers and failure rates.

I think it’s a matter of the heart and how much it can change and still be the same.

Much like leaving my cornfield playgrounds to change, and know that in my heart they will always be the same.

Zane's World

So my mom sent me this email..."Can my beautiful puppy be on your blog too?" And attached to the email was a single picture of her new boy, Zane. I guess Zane was jealous of Ivan and Ellie. Apparently the recent expose' on my blog brought them both new found fame and fortune...well fame anyway.

Zane is a crazy character. He is very well mannered, unless you aren't petting him. When that happens he moves on to the next human, usually landing with my grandmother because he knows she will pet him AND/OR give him food.

Here's to you Zane.

"We're for MORE dogs!!!"

Rhiana replied to Wendy's email, "The family has puppy fever!" I have to agree. At least Wendy has it after recently meeting Ellie.

This morning I opened my email to find yet another addition to the family. Wendy and Matt have added Ivan to the family tree of four legged fuzzy faces.

So since you already know that "We're for dogs" I must go back and ammend that statement.

"We're for more dogs." Welcome aboard Ivan.

"We're for dogs."

Have you seen the dog food commercial that is narrated by David Duchovny? It starts out panning on homeless, but visibly hopeful dogs that are waiting to "go home." Mulder goes on to tell us about all the dogs and how deserving they are.

It's a catchy commercial and it digs deep by telling you that "we're for dogs."

I got an email from Brad earlier this week. It was welcoming the newest member of the family. He and my sister, Lesley, have adopted Ellie.

Welcome home Ellie...you're in good hands.

Bracketeering - IU's Sweet Sixteen

By now you know that Mike Davis has resigned as the Indiana Men’s head basketball coach.

There is an ongoing debate about what name will next be on the door for the head coach’s office at Assembly Hall.

And so, when I printed out my bracket this week for the tournament my eyebrows went up. If IU fans were kids (and many are) then the tournament this week will be the candy store. The best 64 teams in the nation will be competing (many nationally televised ) which means that many fans will have at least a glimpse of what may be in store for IU hoops.

I’d like to point out a few items before I get into details about coaches that will be at the dance this week with their respective Cinderella. Although many of them will be dancing for weeks on end with the same dame, many will also have one eye on another girl on the floor. You guessed it, it’s the soon to be single Indiana Hoosiers.

I have narrowed the field from 65 all the way down to sixteen. And not that I’m a conspiracy theorist, but I feel that six of the sixteen suitors could come from the “Oakland Region.” Suspiciously that also happens to be the bracket in which Indiana was seeded.

One might ask, “Just how do you throw out 49 others without going into details?” My answer is two fold and simple. First, it’s my blog, right? Because I can, that’s reason numero uno. Second, because as in life there are contenders and there are pretenders. The chair that will soon be vacant in Bloomington is one of the most coveted positions in collegiate athletics. Five national championship banners hang in Assembly Hall. For what it’s worth I’d liken Indiana Basketball to Notre Dame Football. Some may disagree with that assessment, but looking through the history the two have been nearly mirror images of one another. That being said, Notre Dame has struggled to be a consist winner since the Holtz era ended. As has Indiana since Coach Knight finished his tenure just outside the Hoosier National Forrest.

Normally at this point in the conversation the Mike Davis coaching record debate begins. Not this time. In sticking to the subject I’d like to point out a few coaches that I feel are legitimate candidates.

There has been so much speculation about so many names, but let me start by throwing out the ones that are on the top shelf. The one’s that IU cannot reach and therefore will not even sniff at because the answer will be a polite, “No thank you.” Keep in mind, these are names I’ve heard in many forums and conversations, so really, I’m not trying to be Mr. Obvious.

Top Shelf Candy - “No way. No how. Not in a million years.”

Jim Calhoun- Winning at Uconn and playing in his own back yard in Big East which at the moment is a better place to be.

Tom Izzo- Michigan State would never let him step foot off campus, coaches rarely migrate within same conference.

Roy Williams- At home in powder blue, Williams finally won the big one at Chapel Hill. More work to be done.

Lute Olson - Winding down his career, Zona is home to many and one of those many is Olson.

Mike Krzyzewski- Like I said before “No way. No How. Not in a million years.”

Ok, so now that we’ve got those guys out of the way. Let me talk to you about some pretending that’s been going on. IU fans are…well…they are fanatical. There was a very strong bond between IU’s following and former Coach Robert Montgomery Knight. Historically speaking Coach Knight’s departure was abrupt at best. Many fan’s followed him to Lubbock. But let’s get one thing straight here people. Coach Knight is not coming back to Bloomington. So with that let’s look at some pretenders.

Pretenders - “Been there. Done that. Burned and Splintering Bridges.”

Rick Majerus - There are so many issues packed into those six letters “H E A L T H” that it would be less detrimental to this man for the IU administration to call in a hit on “Big Rick.”

Isiah Thomas - I know the joke is used up a little, but he’d really struggle with the “unpaid players” thing. IU already has enough budgetary headaches.

Patrick Knight - “Yeah right.”

Robert Knight - “Yeah right A#$hole.”

With some additional thought on the subject, I’ve decided that not every candidate will be coming from the current coaching ranks of the NCAA. There have been a few names tossed around that come from a higher place. That’s right people let’s take a peek at some NBA level coaches.

Higher Learning - “Back from greener pastures.”

Mike Montgomery - Was a great history at Stanford. Is now tanking with the Warriors.

Randy Whitman - A popular name these days with the IU crowd. Easily the step-child between himself and another former Indiana standout.

Lon Kruger - Although he went to the next level , he is now back in the NCAA ranks. Based on his success at another Big Ten school, I’d think that he would be given at least serious consideration in Bloomington.

Rick Pitino - An impressive tenure at UK, a slight disaster in Bean town, and now back in the Blue Grass pastures. Hard to imagine isn’t it? Not for some.

OK…OK…I know you want me to get on to the meat of the story. And just like the tournament people are anxious to see which teams will be penciled in on those remaining sixteen lines. Before I finish, I’d like to point out one more time that of these sixteen suggested candidates, I’ve noticed that six of them hail from the same region that IU is in for the tournament. Could it be a conspiracy? Probably, but only in my head. Here they are in no particular order.

The Contenders - “Hello Coach _______ ? We’d like to have you visit our campus.”

Tubby Smith- Yes, I said Tubby Smith. On the hot seat in Lexington Tubby is possibly one of the most under appreciated coaches in the nation. Is he a serious candidate? Probably not.

Bruce Pearl - One year removed from a Cinderella story Pearl is making waves in the Smokey Mountains. With links to Indiana he may also receive serious consideration.

Jay Wright - A young coach with lot’s of experience who may be looking for a conference that is not so congested at the top.

Thad Matta - I almost moved Matta into the “No way” simply because he is currently coaching within the same conference. I guess it depends on how much IU likes him or he likes IU. Make no mistake there will be at least a dialogue.

Karl Hobbs - Cleary a budding overachiever Hobbs has done a remarkable job. However, he also has ties to the Northeast and probably will move his way up the chain in conference that feels more like home.

Jim Boeheim - Forget it. I did screw up on this one. “No way. No how. Not in a million years.”

John Beilein - Last year, Beilein was Cinderella’s escort to the Dance. I personally feel the jury is still out on his success. I feel he would do well…eventually, but IU clearly wants to win now.

Steve Alford - Nothing makes me cringe more than the thought of IU blindly handing the job to Coach Alford. Many speculate that he IS the next coach. He is not popular in Iowa City and I’d hate to see his legacy crumble if that sentiment is passed along to Bloomington.

Lorenzo Romar - Now if there ever were a “Dark Horse” this would be my best guess. Romar has improved the status and record of his team since day one at U-Dub. He may not be a candidate, but he should be.

Rick Barnes - Barnes is listed here simply because I’d like to quell some of the rumors out there about a Maverick and his money. Rick Barnes will retire from Texas. Why? Because you don’t leave an athletic program like Texas for one like Indiana. It’s that simple.

So now we’re down to those final six that currently are dressing for a chance to dance in Oakland. I really don’t feel that there is any significance relating Indiana’s tournament placement to coaching candidates . It just sounds good. Here are the final six…some will get serious consideration others probably won’t even be mentioned in formal talks, but I still like them for IU in some way shape or form.

Six Pence - "May we dance with your dates?"

John Calipari - What he has done in his short tenure at Memphis is brilliance. That being said, I feel the timing isn’t just right. I was never convinced the he and his former big man weren’t a one trick pony at Umass. My opinion…the jury is still out.

Jamie Dixon - Some say he is riding the recruits of another great coach. I say he is competing in the Big East two years after that fact. Dixon is an up and comer who should not go overlooked.

Bill Self - It would be a stretch to see Self move from an elite program like Kansas. However, Self has experience winning in the Big Ten and could easily accomplish the same as a Hoosier. He may be the Champaign that slips through the fingers of IU’s root beer budget.

Mark Few - This guy seems to finish in the top three in every conversation. Why? I ask. I just don’t see that he is that great of a coach. His team plays at a high level in a questionable conference. He recruits well and one or two good players can help you win convincingly in most conferences, but it takes more than that to win in the Big Ten.

Sean Miller - I know…I know…another stretch but you have to look at where he has been for the last several years. He has been around big time basketball his entire career. He will probably not even be mentioned among the decision makers, but I feel that he has what it takes.

Tom Crean - The man who invented flying under the radar by landing quite possibly the best basketball player in the world right now as a recruit out of high school. My feeling is that he will be the one. He will be the next IU coach.

That concludes my long windedness. It will be interesting to see how it plays out. I’m sure there are many more worthy of noting, but this is my list…not yours.

Bracketeering - Opening Round.

March is half way over and there is yet to be a game played in the 2006 Edition of the NCAA tournament.

The "Madness" is surrounding us all. And it's nearly time for it to close the circle.

I've taken quite some time to address this subject here in blog land. I've debated on many occasions just how to write about it. I think I've finally come to the conclusion, and I was able to reach that conclusion by selecting to print a copy of this year's NCAA post season tournament bracket.

One look showed me something I had never seen before regarding the future of Indiana University basketball.

Before I get too far into the story, let me give you my credits regarding my authority to speak about Indiana University basketball. First, the answer to the obvious is "no," I did not attend classes in Bloomington. I grew up on a heading about forty five minutes due east of Bloomington that you can follow on a map labeling Indiana 46. I know every curve of SR46 between Little Nashville and "the bypass" like the back of my hand. As for the road between Nashville and home, well let's just say the forecast calls for straight roads and slightly hilly just outside of Columbus. I've got an envelope full of IU ticket stubs. I've been to Oaken Bucket games and I've seen the General standing on the sidelines more times than I have seen Mike Davis in Assembly Hall. In 1987 I was probably the only kid in a suburban Atlanta year book wearing a red and white shirt donning the "IU" insignia. For those of you familiar with Kirkwood, let's just say I've got a few sunken Bizmarks under my belt. One of my life long friends, C. Bob, served as the President of the Indiana University Student Body in 1996. And to ride his coat tails I'll say that he'd probably feel comfortable telling you that I could speak at least semi-coherently about IU hoops.

Today I am finally breaking my silence on the subject of Coach Mike Davis. As a life long follower of "the program" my feeling towards Mike Davis the coach have been a mixed bag. I, like many, was skeptical of his acceptance of the job at Indiana directly after an abrupt end to the Coach Knight era. I, like many, rejoiced in the miracle run to the championship game during Coach Davis' second year. I, like many, cringed when Coach Davis lost control of his emotions during the closing seconds of a nationally televised game versus Indiana's most formidable rival. I, like many, carried a laundry list of complaints in my back pocket over the last few seasons as the team's coached by Davis struggled to win. I, like many, think Mike Davis is a stand up guy, whom found himself in a "no win" situation at Indiana. Finally I, like many, felt that this season would be his last with IU.

Approximately one month ago Mike Davis set his own personal madness aside by stepping down from his lofty position with Indiana University. A deep sigh of releif has come out of Hoosier Nation and probably even a deeper sigh from Coach Davis. The pressure had been mounting on him for years...yes that's right years. The Hoosiers, prior to this season, had last made an appearance in the "Big Dance" during the 2002-2003 season. Additionally, the Hoosier had suffered two consecutive losing seasons. For those of you not familiar with Indiana basketball it is difficult to explain the perceived dire state of affairs that has been IU basketball over the last few seasons. It would take me an entire blog entry in and of itself to explain completely. Regardless, you should know that a great majority of IU's following had been pushing, politicking, or even financing through booster contributions (or the withholding of them) to gain support for the removal of Mike Davis.

I know what you are thinking. "Ugly situation." And it is. For that matter it has been for quite some time.

And do you know who was smart enough to not make it his problem anymore? Mike Davis, that's who.

On the afternoon that Coach Davis announced his resignation (effective at the end of this season) I watched the news conference via the internet. Coach Davis handled himself in a professional manner and a very humane demeanor. It was understood that in removing himself as the basketball coach at Indiana, the student athletes that he coached were paying the highest price. I could read it in the man's expressions, the only cares he had at that moment were for everyone surrounding him and none for himself.

That moment defined the remainder of Coach Davis' tenure at IU. He had several games remaining, including the Big Ten Tournament. To be exact IU concluded the men's basketball season with seven games, winning five. An impressive finish for a group of college students whom not only were dealing with the competition and academics, but also had watched their leader walked to the plank. The strong finish earned the Hoosiers a bid to the NCAA tournament for the first time in three seasons. A statement that they have not given up.

The future for the Hoosiers remains a questions mark. The only certainty at this point is that they will be opening the tournament this weekend with nothing to lose. That is a situation Indiana rarely finds itself in, however I feel good things are yet to come for this group of Hoosiers. Some say that Mike Davis will virtually make or break his next coaching job with the results of this weekend. I believe that he has already proven himself worthy of a coaching position, but if winning three games in the tournament is what it takes then I'd be glad to see his team accomplish that as well.

This has become a long winded entry, so I've decided to break my commentary into several excerpts. I promised to tell you why the bracket inspired me to write about this. Read on and you will see.

Cowboys and Goshutes

On Tuesday afternoon I went to have my haircut. Normally I just buzz it all off myself, however I promised Rhiana that I would have as much hair as a semi-bald 29 year old could have on June 17th.

So in keeping that promise I found myself paying $16 for five minutes worth of much needed follicle attention. Can you believe that? That’s 3 dollars a minute! $180 dollars an hour!

Before I got to that chair I picked up one of the standard issue magazines that most hair chop shops leave. It’s funny how that works. There are about 50 magazines lying around those places for those waiting for their turn in the chair. 49 of them relate to fashion, beauty, and style. There is normally a title or two for those not interested in reading about the beautiful people.

Seeing that I had at least five people ahead of me I picked up the latest issue of Time. I usually just page through and read the shorts because with the longer stories I inevitably get deep into the reading (you know into the thick of the best part) and then I hear the $180 dollar an hour stylist call out, “Jeremy.”

I hate when that happens. Don’t you? Now I have to do one of two things. The first option requires me to close the magazine, take a mental picture of the cover, try to memorize the issue date, and most importantly not to forget about the article all together. It’s a fine line because I personally feel that there are so few articles out there that command that kind of space in my ever filling memory. So additionally I have to ask myself if the article is worth remembering or do I just let it go although I spent ten to fifteen minutes reading it to this point? Quite the quandary huh? The second option involves me trying to solve the logarithmic probability of me being arrested if I stick the damn magazine in my jacket and just walk out with it. I’m sure people do it all the time, but I’d be the one to get caught. So with a glance at the cover and seeing that it is the March 13th edition (a date that was still yet a week away) I knew that it probably wasn’t the best option to jack the mag.

“Jeremy….We are ready for you.” In my head “we”, so now instead of one person making $180 per hour there are two people making $90 an hour?

I walked up to the desk and chose option one, “March 13, 2006 Volume 167, Number 11. Early Man on the cover.”

The stylist looked at me funny and said, “Go ahead to the chair on the right, all the way to the back.”

The normal small talk while in the chair…fiancé….wedding…dogs…."You're all done now."

The whole time in the back of my mind I was repeating, “Early man. Early man. Early man.”

This time I had to remember what I was looking at. And not just because I hadn’t finished the article, but because of how I felt about what I had been reading.

I read about the Native American tribe called the Goshutes. In particular, this article focused on the tribal members that remain in Skull Valley. The article described conditions that I, mostly by my own ignorance, did not know even existed. There were two stories really.

One story holds a familiar theme, the exploitation of yet another Native American tribe. The story went on to paint a sad picture of how the Goshutes have been boxed in at the 18,000 acre reservation by numerous caustic government and military weapons disposition centers, aircraft and germ warfare proving grounds, and toxic waste dumps. And now a conglomerate of powerful polluters wants to “park” nuclear waste on the Goshute land. .Surprisingly, some of the Goshutes, including their Chief, have agreed to take on the waste product.

“Why would they ever agree to that?” I wondered.

And what comes next will be no surprise at all. It’s the same reason that many people do many things.

Money.

100 million dollars is the carrot that has been dangled in front of the Goshute tribe. To be paid over 40 years would be 2.5 million dollars per year. That calculates to about $285 dollars an hour. Of course that’s a number based on every hour of every day of every year for forty whole years. But then the Goshutes will be living with the nuclear bi-product for every second of that time too.

Of course there is resistance. Several high ranking members in the tribe object, at least in part. Acceptance of the risk that goes along with the 100 million dollar gamble could invariably affect the preservation of the Goshute tribe. Any number of factors causing health issues could diminish the already diminutive number of remaining Skull Valley Goshutes. Certainly the plan to maintain an organized toxic waste dump could not help those factors.

There is so much more to Goshute story and short of plagiarizing the Time article completely I will go on to say this. I am disappointed at the tactics employed here. These people for hundreds of years have compromised and barganized with rich white men. And now that they’ve been surrounded and are being squeezed by the very destruction that they are willing to embrace, a price of 100 million dollars has been put on what may be the last remnants of a dwindling tribe of Native Americans. After they are gone, the money will remain. I am ashamed that anyone would put a price on what is a well documented endangered tribe. And even more ashamed that the acceptance of such an offer by these people basically concedes that they have all but lost their fight to survive as a tribe.

The second part of the story, although to me seemed less important, also drives home the ghastly point of an ever expanding problem of energy provision. Like many types of fuel, nuclear power creates environmental and physical waste. The United States is the most energy thirsted country in the world. The article goes on to explain that current nuclear waste levels waiting to be parked in Skull Valley measures in the tens of thousands of tons over and beyond 50,000. If a ton is 2,000 pounds that means that there are four pounds of nuclear waste for each and every person in the United States of America. That is of course based on the 50,000 tons and an estimate of 250 million Americans. Even as a person that is uneducated on the subject, I can say that we ALL have a very big problem on our hands. And if we aren’t watchful now, the downstream effects of the methods that are currently being employed could be disastrous. And not just for the Goshute people.

There are more than wastelands surrounding Skull Valley. Politics have circled the Goshutes in the dessert as well. A movement is emerging in Salt Lake City to stifle the proposed nuclear parking deal for fear that leaking waste in the dessert could affect the population of the near by city. STOP, am I hearing that correctly? This tribe is wasting away because the Skull Valley reservation is “economically inopportune”, but add that little word nuclear to the equation and two faced advocates in Salt Lake will be crying about the sanctity of the sovereign Goshute nation. Again I find myself ashamed, for merely being able to read between the lines.

The article was so well written that it infuriated me. If you ask Rhiana, she’d tell you that I get bent out of shape on issues similar to this almost every day. I’d encourage you to read the article and maybe it will do the same for you.

To give it credit for my writing here I’ll tell you that the article was written by Margot Roosevelt. It is entitled “Utah’s Toxic Opportunity.” And it was published in Time Magazine.

“March 13, 2006 Volume 167, Number 11. Early Man on the cover.”

"Purple 84...Purple 84....Black 18...hut hut hut!"

I got an email from a good friend of mine yesterday. As a matter of fact, Lenny will probably be standing next to me at the wedding. I’ve decided not to name a best man really, but only one person can stand to my right so its going to be Lenny.

Lenny and I go pretty far back. We first met during the summer prior to our seventh grade year. Ah yes, I can hear all the jokes now, but this is what it was. “This one time, at band camp…”

I’m not sure if we became friends right away or if it was later on down the road, but I do remember that he had a really awesome buzz cut. He’s always been on the tall side, but back then he was playing the drums with another old friend of mine, Ryan Z. Ryan and I had moved up from grade school together and for whatever reason Lenny standing next to Ryan was about the same as Spud Webb standing next to Kareem. Fortunately, I was a brass player and I didn’t have to associate with the low level percussionists, because if I had I‘d imagine we‘d have been a little more trouble a lot more of the time. Long story short here, in my estimate Lenny and I have been cracking jokes towards each other for the better part of 20 years.

Like many friends its been on again off again over the years, but we always manage to catch up somehow someway. During high school we were pretty good friends. We were in the band together, we worked together at K-Mart, we roller bladed together, we went on road trips to Bloomington and Indianapolis, we ran in the same circles of friends. During our senior year we grew closer together not only because we were working together, but also because I had converted from a brass player over to the drum line for marching band. Lenny was a “whip ass” snare drummer by this point and I was placed on “third base” (meaning the third largest of four base drums). After school got out we went in different directions as many friends do. It wasn’t like we were complete strangers all the sudden, but we weren’t seeing each other five days a week anymore. Lucky if it was five days a month.

Over the last few years we’ve been able to become better friends once again. This time it’s a new right of passage. I’ve watched him become a good husband to Heather and father to Ally. We mostly communicate through email now. We talk about some serious stuff from time to time. Before I asked Rhiana to marry me he was the only male friend that I went to for advice and for that matter he was the only person outside of my family that I asked as well. Other than the serious stuff we mostly talk about sports.

Lenny is a big sports fan. I personally consider myself a sports fan too, but I’m not quite on the level that he is. In particular it’s football for Lenny. In a recent email he wrote, “I’m addicted to football. I listen to it on the radio every day all the way too and back home from work.” Now, I’ve never really listened to football on the radio unless its an actual game. And Lenny’s commute isn’t short. He drives from Columbus nearly to Louisville Kentucky and back every day. If I had to guess I’d say the commute is roughly 150 miles round trip. That’s a lot of football.

And what’s football to any guy without having a favorite player? He’s got one of those too. As a matter of fact, to the common person, it might seem a little strange how much Lenny prefers to follow his favorite player. It started with a jersey I’m sure. And with that it has blossomed into something almost slightly beyond fanatical.

I know its killing Lenny right now. He’s reading this thinking, “Just tell them who it is. That’s all I want is to get the guy’s name on the page.” Oh…all right all right.

So he's got all this stuff related to this one player. Jersey’s from the guy’s old team, the new team, and even college and high school jerseys. He’s got pictures and posters and a few action figures that I think even have kung-fu grip that clutch a football.

I’m not sure why he likes the guy. I personally think the player is a little cocky. I’ve taunted him about it on many occasions and when the guy was traded to another team I teased him that the guy got run out of town. He’s always stood by his player though and that in itself is admirable.

I guess that tells me a little bit about my friend. He stands by his boy. And that's why he's going to be standing next to me in June.

Thanks Lenny, for everything.

The Business of Birthdays

I could possibly be the world’s worst poker player. I have no poker face what-so-ever. I don’t know the rules and barely know what beats what.

The best hand I ever held probably was the “tell” that got me beat. The story goes a little something like this…

About four years ago I was sitting around a makeshift poker table at my friend Bob’s house. Bob, his brother Matt (a.k.a The House), and our buddy Greg (a.k.a Donger) were my opposition. We’d been playing on and off for a few years for a max buy in of about $20. Greg generally won a majority of the games. He served as our most knowledgeable poker master. He’d tell us how to play games outside of standard 5 and 7 card formats (of course that IS why he probably won most of the hands...and of course the money too.) House generally was the first man down and as his older brother would say “bleeding profusely.” Bob and I generally tangled for second man out, but normally I would grow weary after the beer ran dry.

Moving along I had garnered a great hand in basic 5 card draw. I managed to keep my face straight, which was the tell that I had a good hand. Greg and House quickly bowed out as they knew I was holding something. Now, Bob was usually all bullshit and my guess was he knew I had a good hand. In fact, I was holding a Full House, which by my own history is the best hand I’d ever held. Bob continued to raise the bet, and I continued to push in my own hard earned chips. Bob is legendary for over betting and on one occasion even went as far as writing a personal check to put into the middle of the table. I thought for sure that with my hand and his betting that it was a bluff. Finally when the pot had reached a favorable amount I pushed “all in.”

And the moment of truth became a flop that Bob will probably never re-live. While it is debatably the best hand I’ve ever held, it is unarguably the best hand of poker that Bob has and will ever play. To foil the poker face that I’d held for all of the 12 minute exchange Bob laid down the impossible, a Four of a Kind.

On that night, Bob was to finish a convincing second to Greg, but only long after I’d been sent home.

Like I said, “I could possibly be the world’s worst poker player.”

Now fast forward to the present.

Next week is Rhiana’s birthday. And if birthdays were considered poker games, I’d be holding a pretty good hand right now. Rhiana knows that I’ve got something special planned for the night of her birthday. She’s been getting clues left and right all week long. Many of them are being planted inconspicuously. All she really knows at this point is that we have to be in downtown Boston on the night of her birthday by 5:00. She seems pretty excited and we’ve had a few exchanges regarding the plans.

“Tell me!!! I want to know!”

“OK well we are going to…”

“Wait. Wait. Don’t tell me.”

“OK I wasn’t going to tell you anyway.”

“Fine then just tell me what it is.”

“Nope, too late now.”

I don’t usually fare well when it comes to hiding a surprise from Rhiana. She can usually see through me like Superman looking through Pam Anderson’s blouse (and you know he’s looking.) Not this time however.

This time Pam is wearing a lead undergarment. And once again I’m holding all the right cards…