My long time (former) assistant coach, Ken Hickman and his wife Sharon spent Tuesday evening with the Roustios; always a fun visit The Hickman's recently moved to a small community back in Ken's home state of Indiana. My wife and I are delighted to learn of their assimilation into their new surroundings and how quickly they have become involved in community and church. I was especially impressed with a program that they embrace called 'Back-Pack Meals.' It works like this: Two area churches identify seventy-five poverty-stricken families, which have children in kindergarten through third grade. The two churches have volunteers who pack and distribute food placed in back packs for those children to 'take home' on Fridays. God bless those folks in that Christ-like mission.
I would suspect there are a few people in that small community who don't cotton much to that idea because of one reason or another; I know that there is a significant minority population in the town and some people cling to myths and misconceptions. I always find it troubling when people could suggest turning their backs on hungry children because of ethnic origin or negative notions about the parents.
.
Jesus Christ was big on 'feeding' the hungry. Christ said that a fella having two tunics (blouse or jacket), should find another person with none and give him one of his; He then added do the same with your FOOD. Jesus also told some wealthy dude that if he wanted to be perfect and get to heaven, the rich guy should sell all his possessions and give to the poor; this Jesus person appears to be bigger on that re-distribution of wealth (attitude) than that 'socialists' guy in the oval office.
Yesterday, I sat in a Doctor's office waiting for my wife. The waiting room television was broadcasting those senate hearings on the (website) sign-up problems with the new health care insurance law. I listened carefully to the line of questioning being tossed at that gal, Kathleen Sebelius, Health & Human Services Secretary. As I listen, I hear a common thread and subliminal message from the senators suggesting the President Obama appointee, Sebelius should resign or perhaps be fired for doing a 'poor' job. Now please, if you failed to connect the previous dots regarding one political party feeling that they are the 'Jesus people' for goodness sake, don't miss the connection here; these politicians holding these Obamacare hearings are that same useless asinine fools who DID NOT do THEIR jobs, which caused our government to shut down for more than two weeks. Talk about unmitigated gall!! Talk about brass balls!
Oh well, this soon will all pass and we can concentrate for a month and a half on those evil liberals who refuse to say "Merry Christmas" and instead say, 'Happy Holidays.' It's that on going attempt to 'take Christ' out of Christmas; never mind that HE has been taken out of caring for each other.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Be Serious!
Please, someone pinch me and wake me from this stupid dream; we are NOT really having this gobbledygook debate about our American government 'spying' on other (foreign) governments??? I swear, the anti-Obama folks have thrown everything but the proverbial Iraqi-shoe at President Obama. Have we lost all concept of the 'fairness-sense' and reality? Hell yes, our American government spies on other nations. Hell yes, the American people want our government to spy on other nations. Oh, how's that, you say 'they' don't? Please, don't 'shit yourself,' the American people be all over our government and the President if there was another surprise '9-11' type attack.
Based upon recent events how shall we pursue? I suppose, our country could 'spy' on terrorists training in American to fly commercial jet liners then ignore the data collected and stand by and watch 3,000 Americans die when their work place crumbled into jet fuel ashes. On the other hand, we could lie to our countrymen about spy 'data collected and claim knowledge that some 'evil' country has WMD. We could then decide to show the world our 'shock & awe' power! This approach could certainly present a cowboy strutting moment!
I can relate to the 'spying' operations; I believe it is absolutely the 'way-to-go. I coached over 900 high school basketball games and scouted all the teams we prepared to play. I recall getting ready to leave the house one evening to go scout an upcoming opponent. As I was putting on my jacket, I heard my oldest daughter tell her younger sister, "Daddy is going to 'spy' and get secrets about other teams." She was correct and if her daddy did a good job 'spying,' the family can go on vacation next summer.
Accept this reality:...All nations spy and given the make up of the human species, we SHOULD NOT be so quick to trust but instead be super quick to spy; and we do and they do; get over it!
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Shocked; Not Rendered Stupid
This November (2013) marks the 50th Anniversary of the assassination of former President John F. Kennedy. Once again a parade of theorists will come forward and 'pitch' a variety of conspiracy opinions regarding the events of that day and those times. I was age 24, teaching and coaching in Assumption, Illinois. My wife and I (as most Americans) was perplexed and saddened by this horrific and unimaginable tragedy. The election of young Senator Kennedy captured the fancy of a Nation bringing with it an energized youth movement, which suggested glowing promises. John F. Kennedy, the central figure of what would be referenced as 'Camelot,' was the first President that came into our living rooms for nightly visits on America's 1960's, mostly 'black and white' televisions.
Fifty years later after that terrible day, I believe what I believed back then; Lee Harvey Oswald was not the only individual who 'fired' a gun on Dealey Plaza, (Dallas, Texas) on Friday, November 22, 1963, when JFK was killed. These acts of carnage and the accompanying muddled investigative conclusions shake our moral compass as it erodes our innocence.
Life's journey will offer many deceptive presentations. Please, don't 'bull crap' me about this Tea Party group; those folks purport the interests of reining in government size and spending and I do not dispute their claim BUT if they are not heavy with large numbers of bigoted racists then, I quote singer, Little Milton, "Grits ain't grocery, eggs ain't poultry and Mona Lisa was a Man!"
Fifty years later after that terrible day, I believe what I believed back then; Lee Harvey Oswald was not the only individual who 'fired' a gun on Dealey Plaza, (Dallas, Texas) on Friday, November 22, 1963, when JFK was killed. These acts of carnage and the accompanying muddled investigative conclusions shake our moral compass as it erodes our innocence.
Life's journey will offer many deceptive presentations. Please, don't 'bull crap' me about this Tea Party group; those folks purport the interests of reining in government size and spending and I do not dispute their claim BUT if they are not heavy with large numbers of bigoted racists then, I quote singer, Little Milton, "Grits ain't grocery, eggs ain't poultry and Mona Lisa was a Man!"
Monday, October 28, 2013
Everybody Joins The Club
There are some real monetary advantages to longevity. Shucks, the senior citizen discounts are enough to cause a fella get up before dawn and head to McDonald's for that 'senior coffee' priced @ a mere .65 cents; all subsequent cups are free for the liking. Hell, I walk out of Big Mac Land on the ultimate caffeine high!
My haircut use to cost $14.00 a few years back; today with the 'senior discount' the cut is down to $12.00. When it was $14.00, I gave the beautician a $1.00 tip bringing my cost to $15 bucks. At this 12 dollar senior rate, I tip her two bucks bringing my 'golden-year' hair-trim to $14.00; I am saving a dollar from those long ago cuts while the beautician is making an extra dollar dealing with 'less' hair; it's a win-win situation!
Many restaurants offer those 'senior discount' sections on their menus. I recall those 14-years that my father operated a Steak House in Collinsville, Illinois. Seniors came out of the woods to take advantage of any price break. Many of those 'old-timers' were obnoxiously bold and sometimes a giant 'pain-in-the-ass.' The attitude of these time-worn 'blue-haired gals' and pot-bellied old-boys brought to the table was over-the-top. They often argued to substitute items of greater expense in place of the advertised discount and then bitch about the portions while leaving behind a thirty-five cent tip on a $4.95 soup/salad/sandwich combo... after asking for extra rolls and a doggie-bag. Of course, the waitresses were instructed never to challenge the 'seniors' when they were noticed stuffing their purses with condiments or cloth napkins.
I must stop here; Monday is 'seniors' day at the Red Carpet Car Wash and if you get there before nine o'clock, they have free coffee and donuts...last week I brought one of those French donuts home for my wife...I know what you're thinking; hey, I'm one of THEM!
My haircut use to cost $14.00 a few years back; today with the 'senior discount' the cut is down to $12.00. When it was $14.00, I gave the beautician a $1.00 tip bringing my cost to $15 bucks. At this 12 dollar senior rate, I tip her two bucks bringing my 'golden-year' hair-trim to $14.00; I am saving a dollar from those long ago cuts while the beautician is making an extra dollar dealing with 'less' hair; it's a win-win situation!
Many restaurants offer those 'senior discount' sections on their menus. I recall those 14-years that my father operated a Steak House in Collinsville, Illinois. Seniors came out of the woods to take advantage of any price break. Many of those 'old-timers' were obnoxiously bold and sometimes a giant 'pain-in-the-ass.' The attitude of these time-worn 'blue-haired gals' and pot-bellied old-boys brought to the table was over-the-top. They often argued to substitute items of greater expense in place of the advertised discount and then bitch about the portions while leaving behind a thirty-five cent tip on a $4.95 soup/salad/sandwich combo... after asking for extra rolls and a doggie-bag. Of course, the waitresses were instructed never to challenge the 'seniors' when they were noticed stuffing their purses with condiments or cloth napkins.
I must stop here; Monday is 'seniors' day at the Red Carpet Car Wash and if you get there before nine o'clock, they have free coffee and donuts...last week I brought one of those French donuts home for my wife...I know what you're thinking; hey, I'm one of THEM!
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Sport Relationship Dynamics
Part 3...Sport... Character and the Relationship Dynamics in high school Sports...
I believe that sport participation can assist in the development of the individual; character strength is but one way. Moreover, I believe that sport will readily 'Reveal' the participant's character rather than build it!! Let me suggest the ways one can 'see' this revelation: Regarding the coach's character please observe the following: Does the coach complain about officiating? Does the coach encourage players or intimidate them? Is the coach an ambassador for the school and community? Does the coach cooperate with media, parents and community leaders? Let's look at the player's character displays: Does the player accept a team concept/ role as a squad member? Does the player grandstand/showboat? Does the player shy away from competition when the game is 'on the line?" And of course the parents character will be apparent as well. Does the parent boast about his own over other players? Is the parent critical of other players? Does the parent complain about the coach and/school or administration? Does the parent support the athletic booster club for the 'right' reasons?
Pay attention, parents...There is a good argument for equal playing-time opportunities in youth and elementary age sports. Once the child reaches the middle school years, the equal playing-time debate ends. Of course, if the school district is going to mandate that ALL students get the same academic grades then we need to allow equal sport play-time amongst athletes. However, we do not give 'equal' grade-marks because children excel at different 'things' and should be recognized for those achievements. It's a 'goose & gander' thing as we should view excellence in athlete performance.
A word of caution for the parent and coach to share with the student-athlete: Those who play a lot or succeed are NOT more worthy than others who may experience lesser success. Sport does NOT define one's worth! It may be true that those who excel in sport perhaps have greater self-esteem as does the individual who excels academically; but never do these accomplishments make one person's value greater than another.
Let's speak to the middle-school and high school sport Relationship Dynamics. We established the fact that parents 'want' health, happiness, success and love for their kids. The child wishes to please the parents while fitting in with peers as part of a team. The coach wants to have a respected sport-program and a degree of perceived success. Sometimes these various desires are in sync and yet most often there is a discombobulated dependence, which begs for different perspectives and ultimate conflict. All parties deserve the best experience and it can happen if the written guidelines for communication and resolutions is share with all parties as a contract (signed & filed) and approved by the school administration. Children deserve the best from the adults (parents / coaches /educators) who mentor their activities.
Parents: Behold the beauty and wonder of your child's sport moments: Imagine that the girls' high school basketball game's regulation time expires and your daughter is shooting a one & one bonus foul shot as her team trails by one point; do the math and then realize two factors: (1) you (parents) cannot help your child and (2) there will be an mentally stronger, confident and independent young girl coming home that night. She dared to compete.
I believe that sport participation can assist in the development of the individual; character strength is but one way. Moreover, I believe that sport will readily 'Reveal' the participant's character rather than build it!! Let me suggest the ways one can 'see' this revelation: Regarding the coach's character please observe the following: Does the coach complain about officiating? Does the coach encourage players or intimidate them? Is the coach an ambassador for the school and community? Does the coach cooperate with media, parents and community leaders? Let's look at the player's character displays: Does the player accept a team concept/ role as a squad member? Does the player grandstand/showboat? Does the player shy away from competition when the game is 'on the line?" And of course the parents character will be apparent as well. Does the parent boast about his own over other players? Is the parent critical of other players? Does the parent complain about the coach and/school or administration? Does the parent support the athletic booster club for the 'right' reasons?
Pay attention, parents...There is a good argument for equal playing-time opportunities in youth and elementary age sports. Once the child reaches the middle school years, the equal playing-time debate ends. Of course, if the school district is going to mandate that ALL students get the same academic grades then we need to allow equal sport play-time amongst athletes. However, we do not give 'equal' grade-marks because children excel at different 'things' and should be recognized for those achievements. It's a 'goose & gander' thing as we should view excellence in athlete performance.
A word of caution for the parent and coach to share with the student-athlete: Those who play a lot or succeed are NOT more worthy than others who may experience lesser success. Sport does NOT define one's worth! It may be true that those who excel in sport perhaps have greater self-esteem as does the individual who excels academically; but never do these accomplishments make one person's value greater than another.
Let's speak to the middle-school and high school sport Relationship Dynamics. We established the fact that parents 'want' health, happiness, success and love for their kids. The child wishes to please the parents while fitting in with peers as part of a team. The coach wants to have a respected sport-program and a degree of perceived success. Sometimes these various desires are in sync and yet most often there is a discombobulated dependence, which begs for different perspectives and ultimate conflict. All parties deserve the best experience and it can happen if the written guidelines for communication and resolutions is share with all parties as a contract (signed & filed) and approved by the school administration. Children deserve the best from the adults (parents / coaches /educators) who mentor their activities.
Parents: Behold the beauty and wonder of your child's sport moments: Imagine that the girls' high school basketball game's regulation time expires and your daughter is shooting a one & one bonus foul shot as her team trails by one point; do the math and then realize two factors: (1) you (parents) cannot help your child and (2) there will be an mentally stronger, confident and independent young girl coming home that night. She dared to compete.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Passions, Rights & Responsibilities
Part 2.. .
Passions abound in all quarters of sport. The athlete is by nature an intense competitor.; such passion is both expected and desirable. The coach's occupational choice strongly suggests a passion. I would suggest that every parent passionately wishes for their children four 'things:' (1) Health, (2) happiness, (3) success and (4) love. The reality, however is that no parent can actually deliver these 'joyful-anchors' for a child. By the Grace of God or 'luck,' we have sustaining health. All other desirable wishes (happiness-success-love) must be found and/or achieved by the individual; no parent can give those desires to the child. That said, I have nevertheless witnessed some parents embark on 'missions-for-hell' when they believe that their child has been short-changed or perhaps, in their opinion, not treated fairly by the coach, teacher, friends; you name it...many mommies and daddies are completely blinded by distorted perceptions. They cannot help themselves; they are incapable of objectivity...love misdirected; behavior sad and pathetic.
Over six million teenagers will participate this year in American high school sports' programs and millions more will engage middle school athletics. Some of these youngsters will have good experiences while others will have bad experiences. The kind of experience will be dictated by three major factors: (1) The quality of coaching, (2) insightful parenting and (3) the level of the athlete's commitment to responsibilities. Prior to any school athletic season, the coach should meet with all players and parents. At that meeting all program expectations should be clearly outlined. Athletes, parents and coaches should walk away from this meeting completely understanding 'WHAT' they CAN expect and WHAT IS expected of them! Finally, there should be a clear model described to resolve any 'conflict.' Note: This process is ONLY engaged once per year by any family. Parents have the 'Right' to ask questions and coaches have the obligation to resolve the questions... ONCE.
The following statement should be read to parents and athletes at the beginning of the season:
We can best understand what something IS by establishing what it IS NOT... Sport is not an equal opportunity program...some make the team, some play more than others...some score more than others...and some will be injured playing sport; some parents have one hellava time grasping those sport realities. (Note: The parents will likely NOT remember any thing stated but if it is said in an 'open meeting' and documented then the moral coaching responsibility is met).
The sport dictionary is filled with many cliche's...sport is a microcosm...sport is a mirror or sport builds character. I believe that sport CAN build character but more obvious is how sport reveals character.
Part 3 Tomorrow...How sport reveals character and Understanding the Relationship Dynamics of School Sports.
Passions abound in all quarters of sport. The athlete is by nature an intense competitor.; such passion is both expected and desirable. The coach's occupational choice strongly suggests a passion. I would suggest that every parent passionately wishes for their children four 'things:' (1) Health, (2) happiness, (3) success and (4) love. The reality, however is that no parent can actually deliver these 'joyful-anchors' for a child. By the Grace of God or 'luck,' we have sustaining health. All other desirable wishes (happiness-success-love) must be found and/or achieved by the individual; no parent can give those desires to the child. That said, I have nevertheless witnessed some parents embark on 'missions-for-hell' when they believe that their child has been short-changed or perhaps, in their opinion, not treated fairly by the coach, teacher, friends; you name it...many mommies and daddies are completely blinded by distorted perceptions. They cannot help themselves; they are incapable of objectivity...love misdirected; behavior sad and pathetic.
Over six million teenagers will participate this year in American high school sports' programs and millions more will engage middle school athletics. Some of these youngsters will have good experiences while others will have bad experiences. The kind of experience will be dictated by three major factors: (1) The quality of coaching, (2) insightful parenting and (3) the level of the athlete's commitment to responsibilities. Prior to any school athletic season, the coach should meet with all players and parents. At that meeting all program expectations should be clearly outlined. Athletes, parents and coaches should walk away from this meeting completely understanding 'WHAT' they CAN expect and WHAT IS expected of them! Finally, there should be a clear model described to resolve any 'conflict.' Note: This process is ONLY engaged once per year by any family. Parents have the 'Right' to ask questions and coaches have the obligation to resolve the questions... ONCE.
The following statement should be read to parents and athletes at the beginning of the season:
We can best understand what something IS by establishing what it IS NOT... Sport is not an equal opportunity program...some make the team, some play more than others...some score more than others...and some will be injured playing sport; some parents have one hellava time grasping those sport realities. (Note: The parents will likely NOT remember any thing stated but if it is said in an 'open meeting' and documented then the moral coaching responsibility is met).
The sport dictionary is filled with many cliche's...sport is a microcosm...sport is a mirror or sport builds character. I believe that sport CAN build character but more obvious is how sport reveals character.
Part 3 Tomorrow...How sport reveals character and Understanding the Relationship Dynamics of School Sports.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Come With Eyes Wide Open
First of a three part blog series:
Recently, a Texas high school football team defeated another team 91-0. A parent of a student-athlete on the losing team 'thinks' the winning coach is guilty of 'bullying' and filed a formal complaint. I don't know the details thus I dare not render an opinion; suffice to put the issue at rest when hearing that 'both' the winning coach and losing coach denied the bullying- accusation. The more troubling issue here is the ever escalating 'helicoptering parent' involvement. I wish to examine the 'how.' 'How' did it come to this? A few years ago we read where a mother of a high school cheerleader candidate had a 'hit' (death) contract out on another cheerleader. Recently a father punched his son's coach. Time and again, we hear of physical confrontations between adults at youth league sports games. What the hell is wrong with these people; these folks who are entrusted with the role of parent?
I have been on all sides of this youth-school sport experience. I was once the youth participant. I coached high school sports for thirty-nine years. I was a parent of sport participating children and now a grandparent following sport activities. I umpired high school and collegiate baseball for eleven years. These aforementioned experiences do NOT make me an expert on the issue of athletes/sports and parents but it sure the hell places me in a stronger deciphering role than most!! I stand on a myriad of experiences as I continue these comments.
I get it!! I understand the euphoric parenting moments: The birth of one's precious child; the first rollover, words, crawling and walking. First school days, first little league team, first dance recital and first dress-up dance with first date...oh my Lord, how many photos have been developed and how many boasting stories told? I get it!! I AM a parent; I AM a grandparent; I too, want for MINE! I GET IT! That said, I also understand that my kid must grow and become strong and self reliant. Once as a sophomore basketball player at East St. Louis high school, I complained about my coach to my parents. My father , in stern tones, said, "Listen boy, if you don't like the situation with your ball team then do something about and change it so you do like it but don't bring that belly-aching home." Holy shit...imagine that parenting style?!
I understand the nature of the principle parties involved: 'No child ever envisions failure and no mother ever gave birth to failure.'....and then along comes sports!!
There is a pending collision course awaiting many middle school and high school coaches and the sport participating families. There are many myths and misconceptions, which abound in the sports' arena. There is one shared common denominator between athletes, coaches and parents; they all come to sport expecting a fun-filled and positive experience...not always does it happen. I liken it to that, which my orthopedic surgeon said to me on three occasions prior to 'cutting' on my spine: "Mel (with this surgery) there are NO GUARANTEES but there are RISKS." Therein, it is also with sport; no guarantees but risks. The child may make the team, he may be a starter on the team, she may be the leading scorer and then he may mostly sit on the bench and seldom play. She could get injured playing. Most assuredly there will be elation and disappointment; emotional highs and lows. Some 'fanatics' (fans) may be unduly critical of your child and you will hear all praise and criticisms.
Tomorrow Part 2: Passions, Rights and Parents on a mission from Hell.
Recently, a Texas high school football team defeated another team 91-0. A parent of a student-athlete on the losing team 'thinks' the winning coach is guilty of 'bullying' and filed a formal complaint. I don't know the details thus I dare not render an opinion; suffice to put the issue at rest when hearing that 'both' the winning coach and losing coach denied the bullying- accusation. The more troubling issue here is the ever escalating 'helicoptering parent' involvement. I wish to examine the 'how.' 'How' did it come to this? A few years ago we read where a mother of a high school cheerleader candidate had a 'hit' (death) contract out on another cheerleader. Recently a father punched his son's coach. Time and again, we hear of physical confrontations between adults at youth league sports games. What the hell is wrong with these people; these folks who are entrusted with the role of parent?
I have been on all sides of this youth-school sport experience. I was once the youth participant. I coached high school sports for thirty-nine years. I was a parent of sport participating children and now a grandparent following sport activities. I umpired high school and collegiate baseball for eleven years. These aforementioned experiences do NOT make me an expert on the issue of athletes/sports and parents but it sure the hell places me in a stronger deciphering role than most!! I stand on a myriad of experiences as I continue these comments.
I get it!! I understand the euphoric parenting moments: The birth of one's precious child; the first rollover, words, crawling and walking. First school days, first little league team, first dance recital and first dress-up dance with first date...oh my Lord, how many photos have been developed and how many boasting stories told? I get it!! I AM a parent; I AM a grandparent; I too, want for MINE! I GET IT! That said, I also understand that my kid must grow and become strong and self reliant. Once as a sophomore basketball player at East St. Louis high school, I complained about my coach to my parents. My father , in stern tones, said, "Listen boy, if you don't like the situation with your ball team then do something about and change it so you do like it but don't bring that belly-aching home." Holy shit...imagine that parenting style?!
I understand the nature of the principle parties involved: 'No child ever envisions failure and no mother ever gave birth to failure.'....and then along comes sports!!
There is a pending collision course awaiting many middle school and high school coaches and the sport participating families. There are many myths and misconceptions, which abound in the sports' arena. There is one shared common denominator between athletes, coaches and parents; they all come to sport expecting a fun-filled and positive experience...not always does it happen. I liken it to that, which my orthopedic surgeon said to me on three occasions prior to 'cutting' on my spine: "Mel (with this surgery) there are NO GUARANTEES but there are RISKS." Therein, it is also with sport; no guarantees but risks. The child may make the team, he may be a starter on the team, she may be the leading scorer and then he may mostly sit on the bench and seldom play. She could get injured playing. Most assuredly there will be elation and disappointment; emotional highs and lows. Some 'fanatics' (fans) may be unduly critical of your child and you will hear all praise and criticisms.
Tomorrow Part 2: Passions, Rights and Parents on a mission from Hell.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
There is 'Show or Go'
One must be careful not to overgeneralize when characterizing groups of people. We should not draw hard core opinions based on particular experiences. This thought stated and established as a preface, the following may or may not hold any truth.
Several years ago, my wife and I were visiting our daughter and son-in law's home in a Chicago suburb. Actually, we were doting over grandchildren. One day during this visit, I was at a convenient store buying gasoline. I finished and went inside to pay. Standing near the counter was another customer talking with the cashier. As I completed my transaction and turned to leave, the gentleman spoke to me, "What's the difference between you and me?" Initially, I was caught off-guard with the comment when I suddenly realized that I was wearing a St. Louis Cardinals' jacket and my questioner was donned in a Chicago Cubs' windbreaker.
Perhaps with more time and a stronger inclination to dissect the question, I would have engaged an investigative conversation; instead I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Beats me, pal." The Cubs' fan parting remark, "I can't figure it out, your team gets to the playoffs, post-season, the World Series and my Cubs finish out of the money."
I personally knew many athletes from Chicago and a few from the East and West coasts. Obviously, I am most familiar with Mid-Western athletes. I have attended professional sports in the East, never in the West but of course, thousands of games in Mid-America. The following are random observations, which may or may not speak to the Chicago Cubs' fan's question posed several years earlier. I know that the general folkways of St. Louis tends to strongly sanction obnoxious and cocky behavior by athletes. The coastal fan attitude appears to find entertainment value in the showy, demonstrative and mouthy athletes. Cardinals fans 'see' such behavior as 'bush-league and call it out.
When listening to sports radio call-in shows in the Windy City, New York and Boston, I hear radio hosts advancing extreme criticism towards athletes and coaches and managers. This program format plays well with the callers who are also quick to ad criticism to the conversation. In the St. Louis market, I hear commentators holding performance to a high level of expectation without the personal attacks upon persons. I can only believe that many Chicago athletes feel brow-beaten (day-in-day-out) by arrogant fans spewing attack comments in jeering tones; this negatively impacts performance. Why is it that Jim Edmonds, Mark McGuire, Lance Berkman and Carlos Beltran reference St. Louis as 'Baseball Heaven?' Those words are not mine they belong to Edmonds, McGuire, Berkman and Beltran. Keep in mind that those guys played for 'other' teams before coming to St. Louis.
I do know that my coaching approach was simple and straight forward; 'Don't tell me what you're going to do...just show up everyday on time, pay attention and play hard.' That coaching philosophy was not taught at Illinois State University; I learned that from 'family.'
"About the time you start thinking you're all that boy, just look around and you'll see others who are doing more," said my father on the heels of some sport success. "Be humble and don't show your ass," was another frequent reminder.
All will embrace their respective ethnocentric feelings and beliefs; be that as it may. As for me? I recognize 'class' when I see it and shallow fools when the strut. Give me 'GO' over 'show,' every time!
Several years ago, my wife and I were visiting our daughter and son-in law's home in a Chicago suburb. Actually, we were doting over grandchildren. One day during this visit, I was at a convenient store buying gasoline. I finished and went inside to pay. Standing near the counter was another customer talking with the cashier. As I completed my transaction and turned to leave, the gentleman spoke to me, "What's the difference between you and me?" Initially, I was caught off-guard with the comment when I suddenly realized that I was wearing a St. Louis Cardinals' jacket and my questioner was donned in a Chicago Cubs' windbreaker.
Perhaps with more time and a stronger inclination to dissect the question, I would have engaged an investigative conversation; instead I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Beats me, pal." The Cubs' fan parting remark, "I can't figure it out, your team gets to the playoffs, post-season, the World Series and my Cubs finish out of the money."
I personally knew many athletes from Chicago and a few from the East and West coasts. Obviously, I am most familiar with Mid-Western athletes. I have attended professional sports in the East, never in the West but of course, thousands of games in Mid-America. The following are random observations, which may or may not speak to the Chicago Cubs' fan's question posed several years earlier. I know that the general folkways of St. Louis tends to strongly sanction obnoxious and cocky behavior by athletes. The coastal fan attitude appears to find entertainment value in the showy, demonstrative and mouthy athletes. Cardinals fans 'see' such behavior as 'bush-league and call it out.
When listening to sports radio call-in shows in the Windy City, New York and Boston, I hear radio hosts advancing extreme criticism towards athletes and coaches and managers. This program format plays well with the callers who are also quick to ad criticism to the conversation. In the St. Louis market, I hear commentators holding performance to a high level of expectation without the personal attacks upon persons. I can only believe that many Chicago athletes feel brow-beaten (day-in-day-out) by arrogant fans spewing attack comments in jeering tones; this negatively impacts performance. Why is it that Jim Edmonds, Mark McGuire, Lance Berkman and Carlos Beltran reference St. Louis as 'Baseball Heaven?' Those words are not mine they belong to Edmonds, McGuire, Berkman and Beltran. Keep in mind that those guys played for 'other' teams before coming to St. Louis.
I do know that my coaching approach was simple and straight forward; 'Don't tell me what you're going to do...just show up everyday on time, pay attention and play hard.' That coaching philosophy was not taught at Illinois State University; I learned that from 'family.'
"About the time you start thinking you're all that boy, just look around and you'll see others who are doing more," said my father on the heels of some sport success. "Be humble and don't show your ass," was another frequent reminder.
All will embrace their respective ethnocentric feelings and beliefs; be that as it may. As for me? I recognize 'class' when I see it and shallow fools when the strut. Give me 'GO' over 'show,' every time!
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
The Good & The Bad
As I negotiated my 40-minute morning trek, I was mind-listing the profound changes that I have witnessed in my nearly three-quarters of a century of 'walking.' There is a long list of technological changes; they blow us away with the 'new & improved' gadgets. Mostly these technology changes have improved and even lengthened our living experiences, although technology is succeeding at expunging us from the 'real' human experience.
There is another change that I believe is proving to be a social- negative, a cancer; it is the demise of civil discourse. This mean-spirited intemperance and voracity has penetrated every aspect of society. Older blog-readers will recall John Cameron Swazye, David Brinkley and Chet Huntley; they were early TV newscasters...they reported the news...they DID NOT report their opinions about the news! In this age, we have 'bogus news' television channels and radio stations that survive from advertisement dollars, which advance the extremes. Fox News (conservative sympathizers) and MSNBC (liberal comforters) epitomize opposites, which must embrace distorted 'half-truths' about the 'other side' in order to effectively motivate their respective ideologies. These extreme hate elements of both political parties are not interested in the 'good of the order' unless they are permitted to 'define' what is good.
...there is not a 'single' negative that tears at the American fabric but a number of things; events and narcissistic-greedy attitudes that drive our division, shreds our civility and feeds our growing intolerance:...follow the bouncing ball and the connected events: Out of necessity or choice fewer women are 'stay-at-home-moms.' I do not suggest that home-based mothers are better mothers than working mothers, however I stand behind the obvious that the former has likely greater nurturing impact if not just because of more time spent with kids. Once Dr. Spock's parenting books were read by mommies and daddies, it was a matter of time before a new generation of parents adopted the attitude of 'womb-to-room;' Often the school and nurseries, day cares and early pre-school programs became the 'nurturing' institutions. Spock also changed many parenting rules and defined successful parenting by progressive philosophies lifting up children's 'feelings' as more important than their obedient behavior; children were no longer expected to use self restraint but challenge authority to massage 'feelings.' Why then, would we believe that today's elected Congress persons, products of the Dr. Spock parenting folly, would or could embrace the principles of 'compromise'...never been there; never done that!
Obnoxious behavior became self-serving, entertaining and socially vogue. I recall football great, Dick Butkus often sacking a quarterback and never contorting his body stalking over his fallen opponent. I remember Detroit running back, Barry Sanders scoring many touchdowns and I don't recall him ever doing an end zone dance; both acted as if the had 'done' that several times previously and expected to 'do-it-again.' Hank Aaron hit a bunch of home runs and never threw his hands above his head acting like a foolish clown. What parenting and or mentoring message was abandoned that caused it to become fashionable to taunt and demoralize a defeated competitor?
I never observed Tony Bennett grabbing his 'crotch' while singing, 'I Left My Heart in San Francisco.' I cannot imagine Rosemary Clooney bending at the waist-backing her butt into Big Crosby's crotch, with her tongue sticking out during a 'White Christmas' duet. The movie, 'Animal House' caught movie makers' attention...crudeness seems to sell to a new generation; Abbott & Costello or Martin & Lewis apparently ran out of 'humor-gas.'
WOW! Technology got me away from staring at a radio and 'watching' a television picture in 1949; let me say with certainty that the communication transmitted has changed drastically.
There is another change that I believe is proving to be a social- negative, a cancer; it is the demise of civil discourse. This mean-spirited intemperance and voracity has penetrated every aspect of society. Older blog-readers will recall John Cameron Swazye, David Brinkley and Chet Huntley; they were early TV newscasters...they reported the news...they DID NOT report their opinions about the news! In this age, we have 'bogus news' television channels and radio stations that survive from advertisement dollars, which advance the extremes. Fox News (conservative sympathizers) and MSNBC (liberal comforters) epitomize opposites, which must embrace distorted 'half-truths' about the 'other side' in order to effectively motivate their respective ideologies. These extreme hate elements of both political parties are not interested in the 'good of the order' unless they are permitted to 'define' what is good.
...there is not a 'single' negative that tears at the American fabric but a number of things; events and narcissistic-greedy attitudes that drive our division, shreds our civility and feeds our growing intolerance:...follow the bouncing ball and the connected events: Out of necessity or choice fewer women are 'stay-at-home-moms.' I do not suggest that home-based mothers are better mothers than working mothers, however I stand behind the obvious that the former has likely greater nurturing impact if not just because of more time spent with kids. Once Dr. Spock's parenting books were read by mommies and daddies, it was a matter of time before a new generation of parents adopted the attitude of 'womb-to-room;' Often the school and nurseries, day cares and early pre-school programs became the 'nurturing' institutions. Spock also changed many parenting rules and defined successful parenting by progressive philosophies lifting up children's 'feelings' as more important than their obedient behavior; children were no longer expected to use self restraint but challenge authority to massage 'feelings.' Why then, would we believe that today's elected Congress persons, products of the Dr. Spock parenting folly, would or could embrace the principles of 'compromise'...never been there; never done that!
Obnoxious behavior became self-serving, entertaining and socially vogue. I recall football great, Dick Butkus often sacking a quarterback and never contorting his body stalking over his fallen opponent. I remember Detroit running back, Barry Sanders scoring many touchdowns and I don't recall him ever doing an end zone dance; both acted as if the had 'done' that several times previously and expected to 'do-it-again.' Hank Aaron hit a bunch of home runs and never threw his hands above his head acting like a foolish clown. What parenting and or mentoring message was abandoned that caused it to become fashionable to taunt and demoralize a defeated competitor?
I never observed Tony Bennett grabbing his 'crotch' while singing, 'I Left My Heart in San Francisco.' I cannot imagine Rosemary Clooney bending at the waist-backing her butt into Big Crosby's crotch, with her tongue sticking out during a 'White Christmas' duet. The movie, 'Animal House' caught movie makers' attention...crudeness seems to sell to a new generation; Abbott & Costello or Martin & Lewis apparently ran out of 'humor-gas.'
WOW! Technology got me away from staring at a radio and 'watching' a television picture in 1949; let me say with certainty that the communication transmitted has changed drastically.
Monday, October 21, 2013
'Lost In The '50's Again'
This weekend past, I accompanied my wife to her 55th St. Teresa Academy (East St. Louis) class reunion, a celebration milestone that my own East St. Louis high school high school group embraced a year earlier. Both classes have demonstrated a consistent five-year reunion pattern since 1957 and 1958 respectively. My wife and I have both enjoyed these re-engagement weekends and observed our celebratory manner change dramatically over the years.
Back at the fifth year class reunion (s) actually noted little physical changes to our 'classmates.' It was the next three five-year interval marking points that caught my eyes and a confirmation agreement wink from my wife; it was during those 15-years that many guys began sporting 'larger foreheads' and expanding trouser wait-size while the ladies were taking a child bearing beating. At the twenty-fifth reunion, the gals caught a second-wind; they were getting the 'groove' back while the guys were still fighting the battle of the bulge.
If my memory serves me, that's becoming problematic with each reunion, I recall those early reunions were accentuated with loud music and fast dancing. A few reunions passed and the entertainment music at our reunions had become quieter and the dancing much slower and more infrequent. At my 50th class reunion, I noticed that most of the classmates remained 'sitting down' on their bigger butts and 'doing' the hand-arm contortions to the Village Peoples' 'Y M C A.'
Sadly, these last two high school class reunion gatherings found a longer list of names offered in memorial-remembrance and the 'table-conversations shifting from grandkids to health-horror stories and names of medical 'specialists.' Back at the first few class-reunions in the 1960's, we danced into the wee-hours and ate a Denny's 'Grand Slam' breakfast at 3:00 A.M. This past Saturday night, my wife and I were back at the Drury Inn and in our pajamas by 11:00 P.M.
I did make two (2) mental notes on our drive back to Decatur. I shall soon forward to the respective class reunion planning committees the following suggestions: (1) We might wish to have a seventy-fifth birthday party in 'two-years' and (2) all future reunions might best be held on Saturday afternoons, thus addressing many mates' declining night time driving skill.
Gerry and I will continue to look forward to those class reunions in spite of the battles of aging. It is a wonderful collective pause among old friends to recall, 'THE WAY WE WERE' and share...as the song reminds, these 'MOMENTS TO REMEMBER.'
Back at the fifth year class reunion (s) actually noted little physical changes to our 'classmates.' It was the next three five-year interval marking points that caught my eyes and a confirmation agreement wink from my wife; it was during those 15-years that many guys began sporting 'larger foreheads' and expanding trouser wait-size while the ladies were taking a child bearing beating. At the twenty-fifth reunion, the gals caught a second-wind; they were getting the 'groove' back while the guys were still fighting the battle of the bulge.
If my memory serves me, that's becoming problematic with each reunion, I recall those early reunions were accentuated with loud music and fast dancing. A few reunions passed and the entertainment music at our reunions had become quieter and the dancing much slower and more infrequent. At my 50th class reunion, I noticed that most of the classmates remained 'sitting down' on their bigger butts and 'doing' the hand-arm contortions to the Village Peoples' 'Y M C A.'
Sadly, these last two high school class reunion gatherings found a longer list of names offered in memorial-remembrance and the 'table-conversations shifting from grandkids to health-horror stories and names of medical 'specialists.' Back at the first few class-reunions in the 1960's, we danced into the wee-hours and ate a Denny's 'Grand Slam' breakfast at 3:00 A.M. This past Saturday night, my wife and I were back at the Drury Inn and in our pajamas by 11:00 P.M.
I did make two (2) mental notes on our drive back to Decatur. I shall soon forward to the respective class reunion planning committees the following suggestions: (1) We might wish to have a seventy-fifth birthday party in 'two-years' and (2) all future reunions might best be held on Saturday afternoons, thus addressing many mates' declining night time driving skill.
Gerry and I will continue to look forward to those class reunions in spite of the battles of aging. It is a wonderful collective pause among old friends to recall, 'THE WAY WE WERE' and share...as the song reminds, these 'MOMENTS TO REMEMBER.'
Friday, October 18, 2013
A n t i c i p a t i o n
I retired from a thirty-nine year coaching career thirteen years ago and each year since, I have coordinated the Decatur School District's boys' Thanksgiving basketball tournament. This 44th Annual 'Turkey Tourney' will show case the talents of the following schools: Decatur MacArthur, Decatur Eisenhower, Springfield Lanphier, Springfield Southeast, Peoria Central, Harvey-Thornton, Bolingbrook and East St. Louis Senior. More than one-hundred Division I basketball players have competed in previous tournaments and the 2013 tourney sports an additional eight D I players. Two notables coming out of this tournament are Shawn Livingston and USA Olympian Andre Iguodala. On the Saturday night after Thanksgiving, the champion team will be crowned and over 8,400 basketball fans will have attended the four-day extravaganza.
Shortly after the close of the tournament, the dust will still be settling when my wife and I will head out for a ten-day R & R, which will begin at The Chateau On The Lake at Branson, Missouri and end in Chicago watching our granddaughter, Kaitlyn perform in a theater production of the Nutcracker.
The Branson trip is AARP's response to the college kids' Florida 'spring break.' However, whereas the Florida 'babes' engage in those infamous 'wet T-shirt' contests sporting perky 'upward' points of interests, the Branson senior 'dollies' cover their 'southbound boobs' with gaudy sweatshirts bragging about their grandkids! The Branson tourists go to bed about the time the Florida 'breakers' are headed out for the night. The two different generational assortments do have a shared moment-in-time; that is when the oldsters are 'staggering' out of bed looking for feel-good drugs and the younger folks are 'staggering' into bed from too much feel good drugs & booze.
We usually go to the Ozark Country twice a year. Next summer when we go, I will perhaps do some fishing with two friends who live in the Ozarks. I just have to be sure that BOTH can go fishing. You see, they are both staunch Baptists and if I take just ONE, he'll drink all my beer; if I take both Baptists they won't drink any beer...it is what it is!
Shortly after the close of the tournament, the dust will still be settling when my wife and I will head out for a ten-day R & R, which will begin at The Chateau On The Lake at Branson, Missouri and end in Chicago watching our granddaughter, Kaitlyn perform in a theater production of the Nutcracker.
The Branson trip is AARP's response to the college kids' Florida 'spring break.' However, whereas the Florida 'babes' engage in those infamous 'wet T-shirt' contests sporting perky 'upward' points of interests, the Branson senior 'dollies' cover their 'southbound boobs' with gaudy sweatshirts bragging about their grandkids! The Branson tourists go to bed about the time the Florida 'breakers' are headed out for the night. The two different generational assortments do have a shared moment-in-time; that is when the oldsters are 'staggering' out of bed looking for feel-good drugs and the younger folks are 'staggering' into bed from too much feel good drugs & booze.
We usually go to the Ozark Country twice a year. Next summer when we go, I will perhaps do some fishing with two friends who live in the Ozarks. I just have to be sure that BOTH can go fishing. You see, they are both staunch Baptists and if I take just ONE, he'll drink all my beer; if I take both Baptists they won't drink any beer...it is what it is!
Thursday, October 17, 2013
The Simplist of Acts is to Do The Right Thing
I learn where a student-athlete (volleyball player) from North Andover high school (Massachusetts) was demoted from team captain and suspended five (5) contests for answering a telephone plea from a drunken high school friend. It would seem that the friend became inebriated at a party and telephoned the volleyball gal to come give her a drive home. It appears that North Andover high school has a zero tolerance policy and just because the student-athlete went to the underage drinking party-site to be a designated driver, she violated school athletic code. It makes no difference that the police cleared the driver of any law-breaking wrongful act. She WAS guilty of the safety concern for her friend.
This event reminds me of a conversation I overheard a few years ago while drinking a cup of morning coffee and reading the newspaper at a nearby restaurant. Three gents were seated nearby and I could not help but hear their conversation about public schools...more specifically, 'what is wrong with public schools!' From the tone and substance of the comments, I concluded that two fellas were retired school teachers and the third man was a minister; his tattered-worn Bible and various comments were good clues. All three chaps agreed on the main 'problems' with public schools; lack of discipline and bad teachers. I do believe children suffer from those exposures but it is entrenched by incompetent parenting...bank it!
When the men began offering solutions, I suddenly remembered why I am NOT a morning coffee attendee with the 'boys.' These guys were adamant about ZERO TOLERANCE for children who misbehave. "Kick them out of school," suggested one. "Kick them out of all extra-curricular activities and don't let them return," another said. I wanted to roll up my newspaper and smack the preacher up aside his pompous holier-than-thou brain! I damn near turned around to tell him to re-read that passage about Mary Magdalene...Christ succinctly spoke to those who judge and all who stand in need of forgiveness. I am sure that all three guys were 'believers,' however they were the type Christians that believe what 'fits' their biases...they sit in the front row pews in Church and nod at the preacher; I can see them from my back-row pew seat. I want so badly to tell them, "If Christ had a zero tolerance for heaven-entry, we ALL be in a heap of trouble.
Now, back to the North Andover school board and administration; they have barnyard dung for brains. Unfortunately, many such school governing bodies around the nation are the same. God save the children and God bless the young female volleyball player who saw herself as her 'sister's keeper.'
This event reminds me of a conversation I overheard a few years ago while drinking a cup of morning coffee and reading the newspaper at a nearby restaurant. Three gents were seated nearby and I could not help but hear their conversation about public schools...more specifically, 'what is wrong with public schools!' From the tone and substance of the comments, I concluded that two fellas were retired school teachers and the third man was a minister; his tattered-worn Bible and various comments were good clues. All three chaps agreed on the main 'problems' with public schools; lack of discipline and bad teachers. I do believe children suffer from those exposures but it is entrenched by incompetent parenting...bank it!
When the men began offering solutions, I suddenly remembered why I am NOT a morning coffee attendee with the 'boys.' These guys were adamant about ZERO TOLERANCE for children who misbehave. "Kick them out of school," suggested one. "Kick them out of all extra-curricular activities and don't let them return," another said. I wanted to roll up my newspaper and smack the preacher up aside his pompous holier-than-thou brain! I damn near turned around to tell him to re-read that passage about Mary Magdalene...Christ succinctly spoke to those who judge and all who stand in need of forgiveness. I am sure that all three guys were 'believers,' however they were the type Christians that believe what 'fits' their biases...they sit in the front row pews in Church and nod at the preacher; I can see them from my back-row pew seat. I want so badly to tell them, "If Christ had a zero tolerance for heaven-entry, we ALL be in a heap of trouble.
Now, back to the North Andover school board and administration; they have barnyard dung for brains. Unfortunately, many such school governing bodies around the nation are the same. God save the children and God bless the young female volleyball player who saw herself as her 'sister's keeper.'
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Once a Terrier Always a Terrier
I was only 14 years old when my friend introduced me to his 13-year old 'girlfriend,' Gerry at the Sweet Shop next to the Colony Theater on 40th and Waverly Streets, East St. Louis. By summer's end, Gerry was 'my' girlfriend and believe it or not I still had the friend who made the introduction. Gerry and I remained sweethearts throughout high school and three years of college before marrying the summer of 1960, prior to my senior year at Illinois State. It was a seven year courtship.
Upon graduation, I accepted a sales position in my father's firm in St. Louis, Missouri but the coaching itch would not ease. I left that company after one year and took a teaching / coaching job in Assumption, Illinois. Assumption is a small farming community twenty-three miles south of Decatur. Its high school has since consolidated with nearby Moweaqua; now Central A & M. I was head baseball coach and assisted in football and basketball. After two years service, I took my first varsity basketball position along with head baseball and athletic director at Mason City high school, Mason City, Illinois. That community is located in Mason County approximately 19 miles west of Lincoln, 16 miles east of Havana and 29 miles north of Springfield. It was and remains a terrific basketball town. They expected teams to win and they did; in three seasons I watched teams win two regional titles while garnering 62 wins against 14 defeats...remember that was back in the day of the 'one class system.' Mason City was a high school of 275 students playing against the big schools.
It was during that first season at Mason City that I discovered I married the 'perfect' coach's wife. The previous coach at Mason City was a walk it up the floor deliberate offensive coach who championed himself as a defensive minded mentor; I cannot speak to that because I never saw his teams play. Nonetheless, he was appreciated for winning. My coaching approach was more full-court pressing and fast break get-it-and-go-offense!!! Up tempo was the attitude. Early in the season, Mason City was hosting a team and found itself trailing 39-to-32 at halftime; under the previous coach that score reflected a completed game. My wife was headed towards the restroom at halftime when she stopped momentarily to speak to the local doctor. The President of the school board was speaking to the doctor as Gerry waited. The board member said, "We need to get our former coach back and teach these boys defense." Gerry spun on her heels and opened her purse pulling out a 'dime;' handing it to the Board President she said, "Here take this dime and telephone that coach, I'll go home and pack; my husband was looking for a job when he took this one and he'll find an other!" The good physician was kind enough to introduce the school board chief to his basketball coach's wife. We came back in the second half and won big...Gerry walked across the floor and asked for her dime back telling the board member, "You don't pay that well, I need that dime." She remains a Terrier.
Two after thoughts:
I often wondered what that board member thought the night we (Mason City) beat Tremont 114-to-89. I suspect the most difficult part of this story is believing that once upon a time you could make a phone call for 'one thin dime.'
Upon graduation, I accepted a sales position in my father's firm in St. Louis, Missouri but the coaching itch would not ease. I left that company after one year and took a teaching / coaching job in Assumption, Illinois. Assumption is a small farming community twenty-three miles south of Decatur. Its high school has since consolidated with nearby Moweaqua; now Central A & M. I was head baseball coach and assisted in football and basketball. After two years service, I took my first varsity basketball position along with head baseball and athletic director at Mason City high school, Mason City, Illinois. That community is located in Mason County approximately 19 miles west of Lincoln, 16 miles east of Havana and 29 miles north of Springfield. It was and remains a terrific basketball town. They expected teams to win and they did; in three seasons I watched teams win two regional titles while garnering 62 wins against 14 defeats...remember that was back in the day of the 'one class system.' Mason City was a high school of 275 students playing against the big schools.
It was during that first season at Mason City that I discovered I married the 'perfect' coach's wife. The previous coach at Mason City was a walk it up the floor deliberate offensive coach who championed himself as a defensive minded mentor; I cannot speak to that because I never saw his teams play. Nonetheless, he was appreciated for winning. My coaching approach was more full-court pressing and fast break get-it-and-go-offense!!! Up tempo was the attitude. Early in the season, Mason City was hosting a team and found itself trailing 39-to-32 at halftime; under the previous coach that score reflected a completed game. My wife was headed towards the restroom at halftime when she stopped momentarily to speak to the local doctor. The President of the school board was speaking to the doctor as Gerry waited. The board member said, "We need to get our former coach back and teach these boys defense." Gerry spun on her heels and opened her purse pulling out a 'dime;' handing it to the Board President she said, "Here take this dime and telephone that coach, I'll go home and pack; my husband was looking for a job when he took this one and he'll find an other!" The good physician was kind enough to introduce the school board chief to his basketball coach's wife. We came back in the second half and won big...Gerry walked across the floor and asked for her dime back telling the board member, "You don't pay that well, I need that dime." She remains a Terrier.
Two after thoughts:
I often wondered what that board member thought the night we (Mason City) beat Tremont 114-to-89. I suspect the most difficult part of this story is believing that once upon a time you could make a phone call for 'one thin dime.'
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
I Knew All My Beer-Drinking Neighbors
Here are some random, if not discombobulated thoughts about my love affair with baseball. I began in earnest playing the game at 8- years old. One summer day, my cousin, Bob Croak, three years my senior, rode his bike into my driveway and with a sense of voice-urgency said, "Moe we're one player short; you gotta play right field for the 'Rangers' today." Although, I actually lived in Washington Park, I suppose the 11 & 12 year old 'Flyers' team would not care if a skinny little kid from the 'Park' was stuck in the 'Rangers' outfield. I followed cousin Bob to 'Bookies Field' up the hill to the 'high rent' district which bordered Rosemont and the Park.
East St. Louis sandlot baseball was an adolescent and teenage religion during my youth. Every empty lot had a ball diamond and every summer day you could find a game; ain't so in 2013. Kids don't play those types of 'pick-up' games. It is unfortunate because I sincerely believe that not only are skills better mastered in the sandlots but for certain, young kids 'managing' their own play did much to develop leadership skills. That 1947 summer was a break through for a baseball career that I embraced through high school and college. I held my own with the 'bigger' boys, a great confidence builder. As the saying goes, 'If I had a dime for every time,'... I toed the pitcher's mound, I'd have a fortune.'
I can still close my eyes and feel the baseball rolling off my finger tips attempting to break the 12-to-6 curve ball that we kids called a 'drop,' however that was many sunsets ago. These days, I travel the college and high school baseball circuit watching our Eastern Illinois University junior grandson roam center field and lead off for the 'Panthers' and two high school baseball hurlers; a lefty in Barrington and a right-hander in Granite City...I'll drive a bit this coming spring and summer. I will do my best to observe and then filter my thoughts before making comments...I know more baseball than my adult children but I don't know parenting as well; I must be careful not to bruise any one's fragile psyche.
Recent years, I observed many coaches giving all kinds of pitching and hitting tips and naturally, I reflect...how did I develop certain skills. I conclude that pitching strengths/skills were honed by a lot of long-tossing (playing catch) and actual simulating pitching a nine inning game with a friend catching in a squatting position calling the balls & strikes. When it comes to hitting skills, I have absolutely no doubt how I developed into a good hitter. Many East St. Louis kids were good hitters because we played 'bottle-cap' baseball in the alley almost every night. Okay, imagine going to all neighbors and every tavern in your area (1948) and collecting beer and soda bottle caps. We would then get an old broom and cut away the 'sweep end' and use the long handle for a bat. The pitcher of 'bottle caps' can release that small cap causing it to dip / elevate or curve sharply away or towards the batter. In order to hit that 'dancing cap' with any consistency, the batter must wait until the last second and swing short and quick at the cap. Should you ask anybody who knows anything about hitting a baseball they will tell you that a batter must not have a 'long' looping swing but he should be short-to-the ball.
I think that there is perhaps only one eye-hand-quickness (sport) skill that is more difficult than hitting a 'round- baseball' with a 'round-bat;' that might be a hockey goalie catching a high-speed sailing puck while trying to see it through darting-skating bodies. Of course, I don't go to hockey or soccer games and will not until they start playing those two sports in the 'dark' to keep the scoring down!
I cannot recall the last time I drove or walked by a community park and observed a fully engaged (18-players) sandlot baseball game; come to think, I cannot remember the last time I saw a 'Falstaff' beer bottle cap.
East St. Louis sandlot baseball was an adolescent and teenage religion during my youth. Every empty lot had a ball diamond and every summer day you could find a game; ain't so in 2013. Kids don't play those types of 'pick-up' games. It is unfortunate because I sincerely believe that not only are skills better mastered in the sandlots but for certain, young kids 'managing' their own play did much to develop leadership skills. That 1947 summer was a break through for a baseball career that I embraced through high school and college. I held my own with the 'bigger' boys, a great confidence builder. As the saying goes, 'If I had a dime for every time,'... I toed the pitcher's mound, I'd have a fortune.'
I can still close my eyes and feel the baseball rolling off my finger tips attempting to break the 12-to-6 curve ball that we kids called a 'drop,' however that was many sunsets ago. These days, I travel the college and high school baseball circuit watching our Eastern Illinois University junior grandson roam center field and lead off for the 'Panthers' and two high school baseball hurlers; a lefty in Barrington and a right-hander in Granite City...I'll drive a bit this coming spring and summer. I will do my best to observe and then filter my thoughts before making comments...I know more baseball than my adult children but I don't know parenting as well; I must be careful not to bruise any one's fragile psyche.
Recent years, I observed many coaches giving all kinds of pitching and hitting tips and naturally, I reflect...how did I develop certain skills. I conclude that pitching strengths/skills were honed by a lot of long-tossing (playing catch) and actual simulating pitching a nine inning game with a friend catching in a squatting position calling the balls & strikes. When it comes to hitting skills, I have absolutely no doubt how I developed into a good hitter. Many East St. Louis kids were good hitters because we played 'bottle-cap' baseball in the alley almost every night. Okay, imagine going to all neighbors and every tavern in your area (1948) and collecting beer and soda bottle caps. We would then get an old broom and cut away the 'sweep end' and use the long handle for a bat. The pitcher of 'bottle caps' can release that small cap causing it to dip / elevate or curve sharply away or towards the batter. In order to hit that 'dancing cap' with any consistency, the batter must wait until the last second and swing short and quick at the cap. Should you ask anybody who knows anything about hitting a baseball they will tell you that a batter must not have a 'long' looping swing but he should be short-to-the ball.
I think that there is perhaps only one eye-hand-quickness (sport) skill that is more difficult than hitting a 'round- baseball' with a 'round-bat;' that might be a hockey goalie catching a high-speed sailing puck while trying to see it through darting-skating bodies. Of course, I don't go to hockey or soccer games and will not until they start playing those two sports in the 'dark' to keep the scoring down!
I cannot recall the last time I drove or walked by a community park and observed a fully engaged (18-players) sandlot baseball game; come to think, I cannot remember the last time I saw a 'Falstaff' beer bottle cap.
Monday, October 14, 2013
Making the Most of Time
In a few weeks, Americans will be tinkering with their 'time-pieces' as they 'fall back' into standard time. I believe it was during World War I that our country first gave a nod to 'daylight savings' time. If my history recall is correct, I think the purpose was coal saving energy for the war effort. Today, we Americans seem to care very little about 'saving' much of any thing. You younger folks should ask an older relative what was it with those 'Eagle Stamps' savings books?
Regarding time, I simply comply with the spring and fall clock-manipulations as mandated. On each occasion, I do have a fleeting thought; how nice it might be if we could just make time stand still or at least slow-time-down. If only we had the power to really 'save;' time; giving us more time... to share! I am sure most folks arriving at a certain age become increasingly aware of the quickening flow of falling sand through the hour-glass.
We all know that time altering cannot be and must not be; any interruption would alter the wondrous, significant and necessary events awaiting each in our respective journeys. The unfolding of each new day beckons us to embrace newness of hope and possibilities. The marking of 'time' gives impetus to our imagination and personal adventurous spirit to fully engaged this terrific human experience. It is perhaps the very joy we find in living that causes our pause to contemplate the selfish desire to make time wait.
Regardless of standard or daylight time, I hope this moment-in-time is yours. May you find time to say I'm sorry; time to tell another, I love you and time to kneel in prayer.
Regarding time, I simply comply with the spring and fall clock-manipulations as mandated. On each occasion, I do have a fleeting thought; how nice it might be if we could just make time stand still or at least slow-time-down. If only we had the power to really 'save;' time; giving us more time... to share! I am sure most folks arriving at a certain age become increasingly aware of the quickening flow of falling sand through the hour-glass.
We all know that time altering cannot be and must not be; any interruption would alter the wondrous, significant and necessary events awaiting each in our respective journeys. The unfolding of each new day beckons us to embrace newness of hope and possibilities. The marking of 'time' gives impetus to our imagination and personal adventurous spirit to fully engaged this terrific human experience. It is perhaps the very joy we find in living that causes our pause to contemplate the selfish desire to make time wait.
Regardless of standard or daylight time, I hope this moment-in-time is yours. May you find time to say I'm sorry; time to tell another, I love you and time to kneel in prayer.
Friday, October 11, 2013
Special Girl
Everybody has those 'family stories,' which signal in some fashion 'from whence we came.' Late night a week or so ago, I was unable to sleep and while laying in bed permitting random thoughts to come, I recalled such a family story that I must share with my grandchildren. The recollection is about my wife (Gerry); the grandkids' Nana when she was but a little girl. Our grandkids know a Nana, today who is fun to engage and a nurturing fortress of love. Our grandkids want for little while enjoying the 'good life.' Sometimes the present defies the past when history is revealed.
In 1947, Gerry (Nana) was a second grader in a Catholic school and her family (Bischof) lived near downtown East St. Louis. The Bischof family did not have a family automobile. Nana's father drove a residential milk delivery-truck for a St. Louis dairy. He left his house each workday morning at 5A.M. and made two bus transfers to get to his company west of the Mississippi River. Nana's mother was consumed with the demands of raising six children, sacrificing financially to insure the Catholic school tuition for all. She made her girls' school dress uniforms and fought the daily cramped wars of eight people living in a four-room flat. The Bischof family lived the inner-city low income life. Today those houses are all mostly gone; burned out giving way to crime and slum conditions.
Gerry (Nana), as most little grade school girls, made attempts to cultivate friends and 'join' groups, i.e. Brownies...always the socialization need to 'belong.' Her mother supported all the children in those desires but her efforts were compromised by a limited income, caring for her polio stricken youngest son and her dependency upon others for transportation needs. When seven year-old Gerry told her mother that there was to be a Brownie/Girl Scout/school carnival affair on a particular Saturday at the Parish, her mother sensed the excitement in her little girls voice. Since the event was a scout fund-raiser, Gerry's mother made a cake for contribution sales. A neighbor picked Gerry up Saturday morning for the day long carnival style event. Late afternoon, a tired little girl returned home to an inquisitive mother wishing to know what her daughter did at the Scout happening. Gerry told her mother that she had lots and fun and made some new friends. What Gerry never told her mother was that all carnival rides and foods cost money...money Gerry did not have. Gerry only said, "I had lots of fun and made some new friends."
I will share that story with Gerry's grandchildren because it gives a backdrop view of their Nana's much different youth. The girl who continues to have lots of fun orchestrating 'joy' for others. I find it amazing that often those who had little growing up are the most giving...excuse me, I must stop and take breakfast up to my wife.
In 1947, Gerry (Nana) was a second grader in a Catholic school and her family (Bischof) lived near downtown East St. Louis. The Bischof family did not have a family automobile. Nana's father drove a residential milk delivery-truck for a St. Louis dairy. He left his house each workday morning at 5A.M. and made two bus transfers to get to his company west of the Mississippi River. Nana's mother was consumed with the demands of raising six children, sacrificing financially to insure the Catholic school tuition for all. She made her girls' school dress uniforms and fought the daily cramped wars of eight people living in a four-room flat. The Bischof family lived the inner-city low income life. Today those houses are all mostly gone; burned out giving way to crime and slum conditions.
Gerry (Nana), as most little grade school girls, made attempts to cultivate friends and 'join' groups, i.e. Brownies...always the socialization need to 'belong.' Her mother supported all the children in those desires but her efforts were compromised by a limited income, caring for her polio stricken youngest son and her dependency upon others for transportation needs. When seven year-old Gerry told her mother that there was to be a Brownie/Girl Scout/school carnival affair on a particular Saturday at the Parish, her mother sensed the excitement in her little girls voice. Since the event was a scout fund-raiser, Gerry's mother made a cake for contribution sales. A neighbor picked Gerry up Saturday morning for the day long carnival style event. Late afternoon, a tired little girl returned home to an inquisitive mother wishing to know what her daughter did at the Scout happening. Gerry told her mother that she had lots and fun and made some new friends. What Gerry never told her mother was that all carnival rides and foods cost money...money Gerry did not have. Gerry only said, "I had lots of fun and made some new friends."
I will share that story with Gerry's grandchildren because it gives a backdrop view of their Nana's much different youth. The girl who continues to have lots of fun orchestrating 'joy' for others. I find it amazing that often those who had little growing up are the most giving...excuse me, I must stop and take breakfast up to my wife.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Do Your Job or GO Home !
I am, as you are a product of environmental influences, i.e., family attitudes and beliefs just to mention two. My father and mother were raised in lower-middle class socio-economic circumstances and brought a mixed religious bag of Catholicism and Methodism to their marriage. I guess you could say that my father pulled himself up by his boot straps and forged a better life than that which he or mother had as children. It should go without saying but I shall state it anyway, my folks were East St. Louis hard-nosed, blue-collar union people who voted the straight Democrat ticket in the 1930's and 1940's. However, I do recall a pivotal moment in time regarding my parents' political persuasions. It was the fall of 1952, I was thirteen, my brother Tom was nine; baby Marty was still a gleam in my daddy's eyes. We were living in the house on Rosemont Avenue, Washington Park. My father entered the house from work one evening and announced to mother at the supper table, "Well Lou, I did IT." I quickly thought, holy shit what did dad do and is mother going to 'go nuts' when she hears the confession? Before sorting through imagination scenarios, mom spoke and said, "I DID IT TOO!"...Now, I am really confused with puzzlement. Their 'joint confessions was they had both voted for Republican, Dwight Eisenhower for President. They had abandoned the 'donkey-party.' The reason? They said that they thought a military man would keep their sons out of war because he would know the horrors of conflict. I didn't buy that logic then and I sure in the hell don't buy it today. However, I do believe my parents always attempted to 'give' the boys a better life than they had. Actually, I believe that is the sustaining philosophy and mission over the passage of time; all parents try to make things better for their off springs. The problem is most parents don't have a clue in differentiating between 'better and 'easier.'
As time marched on most of the Roustio clan stopped marching in the labor day parade and got atop the Elephant. I remained Democrat for the following factors: (1) Jesus Christ messed me up with His constant rebuking of money-greed and embracing those liberal teachings, plus (2) I never made enough 'money' to be a good Republican who concerns himself about increasing taxes for a new school house or a' Brown-face' person's food stamps and (3) the 'names' coach and 'jackass' seemed a perfect fit.
Politics today is truly a 'mess.' I can't pick up a newspaper or watch television news that I am not inundated with this swirling controversy about the government 'shutdown.' The tea bag intoxicated Republicans maintain a piss attitude about 'Obamacare.' That is as boring and predictable as a rerun episode of the 'Rifleman.' They are childish with their crybaby antics. It was back in the mid-1990's, the two parties agreed on a medical plan; it was geared to become law until the king of-tears, Newt stepped in and told his Republican buddies that passage would 'make Clinton LOOK good.' So much for 'My Country Tis of Thee.'
The Boehner Boner-Boys are of the same Gingrich cloak! Let's get this straight: Obamacare became LAW, the Supreme Court signed off stating that Obamacare is constitutional and yet as is still the case with the Social Security Law, the Republicans cannot accept some laws...so their attitude is-- let's not do the job we promised to do when elected to 'run' the nation's business...LET'S CLOSE BUSINESS!...As Jon Stewart said, "Don't fart and then blame the dog."
Several years ago, I saw a lot of pontificating Christians wearing those WWJD bracelets. You recall: What Would Jesus Do. Well what would your Jesus do about health care for all people regardless of financial concerns. Now before you answer, I am talking about the Jesus that 'touched' lepers.
As time marched on most of the Roustio clan stopped marching in the labor day parade and got atop the Elephant. I remained Democrat for the following factors: (1) Jesus Christ messed me up with His constant rebuking of money-greed and embracing those liberal teachings, plus (2) I never made enough 'money' to be a good Republican who concerns himself about increasing taxes for a new school house or a' Brown-face' person's food stamps and (3) the 'names' coach and 'jackass' seemed a perfect fit.
Politics today is truly a 'mess.' I can't pick up a newspaper or watch television news that I am not inundated with this swirling controversy about the government 'shutdown.' The tea bag intoxicated Republicans maintain a piss attitude about 'Obamacare.' That is as boring and predictable as a rerun episode of the 'Rifleman.' They are childish with their crybaby antics. It was back in the mid-1990's, the two parties agreed on a medical plan; it was geared to become law until the king of-tears, Newt stepped in and told his Republican buddies that passage would 'make Clinton LOOK good.' So much for 'My Country Tis of Thee.'
The Boehner Boner-Boys are of the same Gingrich cloak! Let's get this straight: Obamacare became LAW, the Supreme Court signed off stating that Obamacare is constitutional and yet as is still the case with the Social Security Law, the Republicans cannot accept some laws...so their attitude is-- let's not do the job we promised to do when elected to 'run' the nation's business...LET'S CLOSE BUSINESS!...As Jon Stewart said, "Don't fart and then blame the dog."
Several years ago, I saw a lot of pontificating Christians wearing those WWJD bracelets. You recall: What Would Jesus Do. Well what would your Jesus do about health care for all people regardless of financial concerns. Now before you answer, I am talking about the Jesus that 'touched' lepers.
Hell-Fire and Electrolux
The morning routine finds toy poodle, 'Yodie" leading me downstairs for his potty run. Of course, I slip on shoes and go outside with him as a precaution for fear of any nighttime critters hanging around the backyard. I am just thankful the pup goes to bed at nine each night and sleeps until 6 AM; wish his master could do the same. I grab a cup of coffee and read the newspaper before doing my stretching prior to heading out for a forty-five minute walk.
I am back home at about 7:45 AM and do some more stretching...I must do stretching both sides of the walk! I then take a breakfast consisting of: cereal w/ blueberries, toast, juice and coffee upstairs to my wife. We visit while eating breakfast and catch bits of the 'Today Show.' Natalie Morales is the only person, I know, who makes 'bad news' look good.
One morning I came into the bedroom and my wife was watching one of those TV sales programs. She was writing down some numbers and she told me we needed to purchase a 'power washer.' Dismissing that comment, I got to thinking, back in the day before television, those sales hawkers went door to door selling their wares. I recall getting a kick out of the manner in which my maternal grandparents, grandpa, E.V. and Mammy would handle those door-to-door hustlers. Old E.V. would spot'em in the driveway and holler out, "You best mosey on down the road fella, I got chores to do and no time to visit with the 'likes' of you!" Mammy, on the other hand would invite the sales gent inside. She would tell him to, "Sit a spell but stay out of 'that' rocking chair." It was best nobody sat in E.V.'s rocker because sure as hell he'd throw a hissy-fit if he felt other's body-heat on his rocker cushion.
As the salesman was opening his satchel of wares, Mammy began, "How is your soul with the Lord?" At that moment, I always sat down in an obscure corner to watch and listen to the woman work at 'winning one for Jesus.' Let me tell you, that old Bible-toting- tent revival lady could make a fella feel the fires of hell once she got to testifying and talking sanctification. Mammy Bennett took every opportunity to witness. I don't remember Mammy ever buying any thing from the door-to-door solicitor but she always walked him to his automobile and invited him to church 'next Sunday.'
I just wished that I could have been around when a couple of those Jehovah Witness fellas knocked at Mammy's door...holy scriptures, that woulda been one hellava scriptures-interpretation tug-a-war! My Mammy was GOOD with her Godly-messages; when I was a teenager leaving the house for a night out or a date; if Mammy was nearby she would always say, "Young man, remember that Jesus is coming a 'second time.' Should He return tonight, don't you be doing something He'd frown upon!" ...Shake that warning thought from your brain.
Gotta get moving; must stretch and hit the pavement. When I take breakfast upstairs to my wife today, I should tell my her that she can't use that power washer on the toy poodle.
I am back home at about 7:45 AM and do some more stretching...I must do stretching both sides of the walk! I then take a breakfast consisting of: cereal w/ blueberries, toast, juice and coffee upstairs to my wife. We visit while eating breakfast and catch bits of the 'Today Show.' Natalie Morales is the only person, I know, who makes 'bad news' look good.
One morning I came into the bedroom and my wife was watching one of those TV sales programs. She was writing down some numbers and she told me we needed to purchase a 'power washer.' Dismissing that comment, I got to thinking, back in the day before television, those sales hawkers went door to door selling their wares. I recall getting a kick out of the manner in which my maternal grandparents, grandpa, E.V. and Mammy would handle those door-to-door hustlers. Old E.V. would spot'em in the driveway and holler out, "You best mosey on down the road fella, I got chores to do and no time to visit with the 'likes' of you!" Mammy, on the other hand would invite the sales gent inside. She would tell him to, "Sit a spell but stay out of 'that' rocking chair." It was best nobody sat in E.V.'s rocker because sure as hell he'd throw a hissy-fit if he felt other's body-heat on his rocker cushion.
As the salesman was opening his satchel of wares, Mammy began, "How is your soul with the Lord?" At that moment, I always sat down in an obscure corner to watch and listen to the woman work at 'winning one for Jesus.' Let me tell you, that old Bible-toting- tent revival lady could make a fella feel the fires of hell once she got to testifying and talking sanctification. Mammy Bennett took every opportunity to witness. I don't remember Mammy ever buying any thing from the door-to-door solicitor but she always walked him to his automobile and invited him to church 'next Sunday.'
I just wished that I could have been around when a couple of those Jehovah Witness fellas knocked at Mammy's door...holy scriptures, that woulda been one hellava scriptures-interpretation tug-a-war! My Mammy was GOOD with her Godly-messages; when I was a teenager leaving the house for a night out or a date; if Mammy was nearby she would always say, "Young man, remember that Jesus is coming a 'second time.' Should He return tonight, don't you be doing something He'd frown upon!" ...Shake that warning thought from your brain.
Gotta get moving; must stretch and hit the pavement. When I take breakfast upstairs to my wife today, I should tell my her that she can't use that power washer on the toy poodle.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Keep The Line Moving
I read findings from a recent study about 'procrastination.' I should mention that the 'study' had a five-year funding grant but it took 'ten' years to complete; that in itself speaks volumes about the study's credibility!!
It appears that in the past thirty years procrastination percentages among Americans has risen from 5% to 26%. I would believe that these findings explain many of the daily frustrations we all face. I now understand why I wait longer in lines, wait longer for restaurant meals and read more than three magazines while waiting for my doctor's appointment. I conclude that 'service' folks and workers, in general, are not in a hurry. I can simply wait; you can wait. This procrastination statistic also suggests that about 25% of my friends and family members are slow-moving and /or lazy and most likely unreliable.
As is the case with many current social problems the solution can be found in the examination of my parents' generational attitudes. Yep, take a peek back at yesteryear. My father suffered from POWW. You all thought that acronyms were something new; my parents had them. POWW was a common disorder of my folks' generation. It means Pissed Off When Waiting. Here is a hard fact, I cannot recall my father ever asking me to 'do something;' he told me! And God bless him, he had a charming delivery style: "Hey boy, take out the trash and shake a leg." Translation: He wanted the current trash out of the house, not trash we may generate later. As I look back on my mother and father's parenting ways, I forgive them of their silly-ass ideas mainly because they never had an opportunity to read one damn book about a child's feelings and fragile psyche. They had this crazy notion that their children should please them instead of them pleasing me and my two brothers; I told you...silly ass!
Due to my folks' parenting, I grew up with strange quirks regarding time and responsibility. I show up at meetings far too early. If uncertain about direction/location of meeting venue, I scout the route in advance.
Procrastinate? Me? Never! I kid you not, I wrote this blog, which is posted Tuesday October 8, 2013 on Saturday October 5. I will be traveling on October 8. Never put off until tomorrow that which you could have done six-months ago.
It appears that in the past thirty years procrastination percentages among Americans has risen from 5% to 26%. I would believe that these findings explain many of the daily frustrations we all face. I now understand why I wait longer in lines, wait longer for restaurant meals and read more than three magazines while waiting for my doctor's appointment. I conclude that 'service' folks and workers, in general, are not in a hurry. I can simply wait; you can wait. This procrastination statistic also suggests that about 25% of my friends and family members are slow-moving and /or lazy and most likely unreliable.
As is the case with many current social problems the solution can be found in the examination of my parents' generational attitudes. Yep, take a peek back at yesteryear. My father suffered from POWW. You all thought that acronyms were something new; my parents had them. POWW was a common disorder of my folks' generation. It means Pissed Off When Waiting. Here is a hard fact, I cannot recall my father ever asking me to 'do something;' he told me! And God bless him, he had a charming delivery style: "Hey boy, take out the trash and shake a leg." Translation: He wanted the current trash out of the house, not trash we may generate later. As I look back on my mother and father's parenting ways, I forgive them of their silly-ass ideas mainly because they never had an opportunity to read one damn book about a child's feelings and fragile psyche. They had this crazy notion that their children should please them instead of them pleasing me and my two brothers; I told you...silly ass!
Due to my folks' parenting, I grew up with strange quirks regarding time and responsibility. I show up at meetings far too early. If uncertain about direction/location of meeting venue, I scout the route in advance.
Procrastinate? Me? Never! I kid you not, I wrote this blog, which is posted Tuesday October 8, 2013 on Saturday October 5. I will be traveling on October 8. Never put off until tomorrow that which you could have done six-months ago.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Time Released Insight
Recently, I was returning late night to Decatur from a St. Louis Cardinals' baseball game. I was driving alone, which lends itself to divergent thoughts racing about my brain. I suddenly had that urge to telephone my mother. She died last December at the age 93. The logical explanation for this reoccurring urge is simple; I had my mother in my life for seventy-three years so it is understandable that the 'urge' to telephone her is seared in my mind! While driving along I-55, I began thinking of a particular conversation I had with my mother several times during the last year or so of her life. The conversation topic placed us at two opposing perspectives. Today, I am slowly but surely seeing the 'point-of-view' held by mother. Let me profile the conversation and explain: My mother was becoming physically challenged and hurting with mounting-maladies associated with aging. She would frequently wonder aloud saying, "Oh honey, I am so tired and weary, I don't know why my Lord and Savior does not take me home, I am ready."
Friday, October 4, 2013
Just Another List
On numerous occasions, I have been asked by high school basketball followers, 'who are some of the best coaches you coached against during your career?' I came up with the following list of twelve. Here we go:
My first varsity coaching job was at Mason City. We were in the 'Tomahawk Conference.' A most worthy opponent was always the extremely well-coached Mt. Pulaski 'Hilltoppers' of Ed Butkovich.
The best defensive coach was Dawdy Hawkins, who coached Pekin high school in the 1960's. Dawdy was an in-your-face coach-personality. He was tough and employed intimidation. His sound man-to-man defensive principles were flawless. Long time Rock Island coach Duncan Reid was an assistant to Hawkins for about nine years at Pekin before going to R.I as head coach. Duncan's approach was much like Dawdy's.
Sherrill Hanks coached at Alton high school (mid-fifties) when I was a basketball player at East St. Louis high. Later he moved to Quincy high school where I matched wits while coaching Edwardsville in the '70's. Hanks was a 'keep-it-simple' coach. He built excellent programs through a grade school/junior high school feeder system. Coach Hanks perhaps epitomized 'coaching class.'
Vergil Fletcher was another re-load type coach with a simplistic post-up offensive approach. Fletcher's teams could be a difficult preparation because Vergil was always 'swimming against' the current defensive philosophy. Let me explain. When many high school teams were playing zones, Fletcher was playing a man-to-man defense and when the consensus was man-to-man, Vergil was using his 'ball press' (zone) defense. Bob Bone was an outstanding player for Fletcher and later became successful with a similar coaching approach at Collinsville. Another coach similar to the Fletcher 'keep-it-simple-stupid' philosophy was long time Galesburg 'Silver Streaks ' coach John Thiel.
I battled Quincy Coach Jerry Leggett while at Jacksonville. Legget was the best 'offensive' coach that I ever went against. Except for a fast break chance, Leggett's Quincy teams ran a 'special set-play' every time down the floor; they executed the plays with precision. Jerry enjoyed his own antics immensely. A third Quincy coach that developed strong basketball programs at Nokomis and Lincoln before going to Quincy was Loren Wallace. Neil Alexander played for Wallace at Nokomis and today continues to execute a successful game-tempo-controlling ball press.
Chuck Buescher was the poster coach for 'student-of-the-game.' He studied the game and coached with high level intensity. Rich Herrin was similar to Buescher's style but with a 'warm Southern Illinois gentleman flare.'
I never coached against Gene Pingatore, Westchester St. Joseph high school, who recently passed Peoria Manual coach Dick Van Syoc as the all-time winning coach. Van Syoc was a strong teacher of 'individual skills.' He took a matter-of-fact business approach that was successful in the affluent community of Washington and equally successful in the inner-city of Peoria.
Developing and writing down such list is simple folly. It may serve as fun reading for the 'fanatic' and perhaps it is a catalyst for debate. I enjoyed my coaching fraternity relationships. I took one approach as I prepared my teams; the same approach I expected of my players...the sign that hung in my Jacksonville locker room for twenty-one years said it best: 'RESPECT ALL FEAR NONE.'
Okay, I'm going to take Bob Bone off my list!...Bone is married to my niece and we are frequently together at family gatherings... It is unfair to my niece to puff up Bob's ego; after all she must live with him!
My first varsity coaching job was at Mason City. We were in the 'Tomahawk Conference.' A most worthy opponent was always the extremely well-coached Mt. Pulaski 'Hilltoppers' of Ed Butkovich.
The best defensive coach was Dawdy Hawkins, who coached Pekin high school in the 1960's. Dawdy was an in-your-face coach-personality. He was tough and employed intimidation. His sound man-to-man defensive principles were flawless. Long time Rock Island coach Duncan Reid was an assistant to Hawkins for about nine years at Pekin before going to R.I as head coach. Duncan's approach was much like Dawdy's.
Sherrill Hanks coached at Alton high school (mid-fifties) when I was a basketball player at East St. Louis high. Later he moved to Quincy high school where I matched wits while coaching Edwardsville in the '70's. Hanks was a 'keep-it-simple' coach. He built excellent programs through a grade school/junior high school feeder system. Coach Hanks perhaps epitomized 'coaching class.'
Vergil Fletcher was another re-load type coach with a simplistic post-up offensive approach. Fletcher's teams could be a difficult preparation because Vergil was always 'swimming against' the current defensive philosophy. Let me explain. When many high school teams were playing zones, Fletcher was playing a man-to-man defense and when the consensus was man-to-man, Vergil was using his 'ball press' (zone) defense. Bob Bone was an outstanding player for Fletcher and later became successful with a similar coaching approach at Collinsville. Another coach similar to the Fletcher 'keep-it-simple-stupid' philosophy was long time Galesburg 'Silver Streaks ' coach John Thiel.
I battled Quincy Coach Jerry Leggett while at Jacksonville. Legget was the best 'offensive' coach that I ever went against. Except for a fast break chance, Leggett's Quincy teams ran a 'special set-play' every time down the floor; they executed the plays with precision. Jerry enjoyed his own antics immensely. A third Quincy coach that developed strong basketball programs at Nokomis and Lincoln before going to Quincy was Loren Wallace. Neil Alexander played for Wallace at Nokomis and today continues to execute a successful game-tempo-controlling ball press.
Chuck Buescher was the poster coach for 'student-of-the-game.' He studied the game and coached with high level intensity. Rich Herrin was similar to Buescher's style but with a 'warm Southern Illinois gentleman flare.'
I never coached against Gene Pingatore, Westchester St. Joseph high school, who recently passed Peoria Manual coach Dick Van Syoc as the all-time winning coach. Van Syoc was a strong teacher of 'individual skills.' He took a matter-of-fact business approach that was successful in the affluent community of Washington and equally successful in the inner-city of Peoria.
Developing and writing down such list is simple folly. It may serve as fun reading for the 'fanatic' and perhaps it is a catalyst for debate. I enjoyed my coaching fraternity relationships. I took one approach as I prepared my teams; the same approach I expected of my players...the sign that hung in my Jacksonville locker room for twenty-one years said it best: 'RESPECT ALL FEAR NONE.'
Okay, I'm going to take Bob Bone off my list!...Bone is married to my niece and we are frequently together at family gatherings... It is unfair to my niece to puff up Bob's ego; after all she must live with him!
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Many Paths Crossed
During my East St. Louis high school (1955-57) junior/senior basketball seasons, I played against the likes of Alton's Gene Veloff and Bill McAfoos; Edwardsville's Mannie Jackson, Gov Vaughn and Buzz Shaw and Collinsville's Tom Jackson and Terry Bethel. Each individual was an outstanding talent and several went on to have illustrious college careers and some professional runs.
Aside from the aforementioned basketball talents there was another name during that time period that I often heard mentioned; the State's leading scorer from Tamms, Illinois, Charlie "Chico" Vaughn. I did not play high school basketball against "Chico" but while at Illinois State University, I played against 'Chico" when Southern Illinois basketball coach, Harry Gallatin brought his 'Salukis" to Normal. "Chico" Vaughn was every thing people said he was; an uncanny scorer with his impossible to defend 'over-the-head fade-away jump shot.' After college basketball, Charlie "Chico" Vaughn played a stint with the NBA St. Louis 'Hawks.'
During my twenty-one seasons coaching the Jacksonville high school "Crimsons," I coached a player named Andy Kaufmann who lead the State in scoring three consecutive seasons averaging 32.0 per game each season. Often times sports writers would tell me just how many points Andy needed to average his final season to break "Chico" Vaughn's all-time individual IHSA scoring record. I never paid any attention to that hype because we were focused on winning basketball games instead of individual accomplishments; it all made for interesting press clips. After Kaufmann graduated from JHS, he attended the University of Illinois and still today ranks in there top ten scoring leaders. One "Bragging Rights" game versus Mizzou, Kaufmann scored 33 points.
These past thirteen years, I have coordinated an 8-team invitational basketball tournament in Decatur with a field of Springfield Southeast, Springfield Lanphier, Bolingbrook, Harvey-Thornton, Peoria Central, Decatur Eisenhower, Decatur MacArthur and East St. Louis. We have seen more than sixty Division I players come through this tournament. About seven years ago, I invited the State's top two all-time individual scorers to be saluted by Decatur basketball fans. "Chico" Vaughn and Andy Kaufmann met for the first time; one I had played against the other I had coached.
When Vaughn was introduced the crowd stood and applauded his state's top scoring number of 3.358 points, all before the 3-point shot. The audience came unglued when Kaufmann (3,160 PTS.) was introduced after the reminder of the 'Iowa game-winning shot.' The introduction went as follows: "Chico" was introduced and dribbled a basketball to center court. He then faked several passes to Andy awaiting his introduction at the bench. Finally, "Chico" passed the ball to Andy for his introduction. Someone later asked "Chico" why he hesitated 'passing' the basketball from center court to Kaufmann; "Chico" said, "I didn't score all those points 'passing' the ball. Believe me, Chico, Andy understood THAT logic!
It was a neat moment for two great basketball players and many fans.
Aside from the aforementioned basketball talents there was another name during that time period that I often heard mentioned; the State's leading scorer from Tamms, Illinois, Charlie "Chico" Vaughn. I did not play high school basketball against "Chico" but while at Illinois State University, I played against 'Chico" when Southern Illinois basketball coach, Harry Gallatin brought his 'Salukis" to Normal. "Chico" Vaughn was every thing people said he was; an uncanny scorer with his impossible to defend 'over-the-head fade-away jump shot.' After college basketball, Charlie "Chico" Vaughn played a stint with the NBA St. Louis 'Hawks.'
During my twenty-one seasons coaching the Jacksonville high school "Crimsons," I coached a player named Andy Kaufmann who lead the State in scoring three consecutive seasons averaging 32.0 per game each season. Often times sports writers would tell me just how many points Andy needed to average his final season to break "Chico" Vaughn's all-time individual IHSA scoring record. I never paid any attention to that hype because we were focused on winning basketball games instead of individual accomplishments; it all made for interesting press clips. After Kaufmann graduated from JHS, he attended the University of Illinois and still today ranks in there top ten scoring leaders. One "Bragging Rights" game versus Mizzou, Kaufmann scored 33 points.
These past thirteen years, I have coordinated an 8-team invitational basketball tournament in Decatur with a field of Springfield Southeast, Springfield Lanphier, Bolingbrook, Harvey-Thornton, Peoria Central, Decatur Eisenhower, Decatur MacArthur and East St. Louis. We have seen more than sixty Division I players come through this tournament. About seven years ago, I invited the State's top two all-time individual scorers to be saluted by Decatur basketball fans. "Chico" Vaughn and Andy Kaufmann met for the first time; one I had played against the other I had coached.
When Vaughn was introduced the crowd stood and applauded his state's top scoring number of 3.358 points, all before the 3-point shot. The audience came unglued when Kaufmann (3,160 PTS.) was introduced after the reminder of the 'Iowa game-winning shot.' The introduction went as follows: "Chico" was introduced and dribbled a basketball to center court. He then faked several passes to Andy awaiting his introduction at the bench. Finally, "Chico" passed the ball to Andy for his introduction. Someone later asked "Chico" why he hesitated 'passing' the basketball from center court to Kaufmann; "Chico" said, "I didn't score all those points 'passing' the ball. Believe me, Chico, Andy understood THAT logic!
It was a neat moment for two great basketball players and many fans.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Lucky to be One of His Boys
An Edwardsville high school graduate from the 1970's, emailed me recently on a myriad of subjects and mentioned that the last time he 'saw' me was at Louis 'Pick' Dehner's funeral visitation; that was many years past. 'Pick' Dehner was born and grew up in Lincoln, Illinois and later attended the University of Illinois where he was named a basketball All-American in 1939. Dehner, upon graduating from Illinois accepted the basketball and baseball coaching positions at East St. Louis high school where he would remain for a 32-year career; he was my coach in both basketball and baseball from 1954-through-1957. I had a special relationship with Coach Dehner and we shared a love for the game and respect for one another.
I would not deny that Coach Dehner was a tough coach for whom to play or perhaps better stated, he made it difficult to perform under his sarcastic and critical nature. I began grade school in Washington Park (E. St . L) at mid-year, which naturally plays out as a mid-year high school graduate. At some point during my junior high and summer baseball playing, Coach Dehner made the assessment that I would better 'serve' his two programs (baseball and basketball) if I would drop out of school for a semester and return thus positioning me to have two full back-to-back seasons and graduating in June.
After pitching for his spring 1954, varsity 'Flyers,' I continued school the fall of '54 and then I dropped out the second semester as I became sixteen years old. I then returned to East Side High the following fall with my junior and senior years ahead. The decision worked out to Dehner's benefit and certainly to my advantage. Dehner won a couple of SWC baseball titles and a Regional basketball tournament. I would have likely never attended college had I not been recruited with the offer of a free education by the baseball and basketball coaches at Illinois State. Two back-to-back years playing baseball and basketball for Dehner was 'the key.'Therein lies the 'special' relationship forged by Coach Dehner and his prote'ge.' He later attempted to discourage me from entering the 'coaching profession.' When he realized that I was going to become a coach, he took me aside and gave me this advise: "If one of player, any given season, loves the game as you, consider yourself lucky." He then added: "You better develop tough skin quickly."
When playing basketball at East Side for 'Pick,' I recall once pouting about something he had said. He jerked me off the floor and told me to come to him to reenter the game once I finished acting like a baby. I was determined to stay seated on the bench when assistant coach Lou Wapple came to me and said, "Moe, how long have you known Dehner?" I said, "Since I was in the sixth grade." Coach Wapple then asked, "Have you ever seen him lose one of these bull-headed standoffs?" I got up went to Coach Dehner and said, "I'm ready to play, Coach." He looked into my eyes and said, "Don't ever act like that again!"...he then told me to take it for another player.
Back then I got that 'eye look' from another man; my father. I once complained about my high school basketball team and my dad put his fork down at our supper table and said, "Boy, you look at me! Don't bring your sport problems to our family supper table; I never bring my work problems to our table. If you don't like something on your team then do something to change it!"
Many years later, Pick and I squared off as SWC coaching adversaries. One night, Greg Ahart hit a jump shot at the horn to beat Dehner's 'Flyers' at East Side. When our 'Tigers' were leaving East St. Louis' gym to return to Edwardsville, Dehner yelled at me,
"Roustio, you always were lucky!"
I emailed-replied my Edwardsville friend to tell him that I was at Coach Dehner's funeral...I was one of the pallbearers along with Billy Altenberger, Joe Lucco, Virgil Fletcher and Tony Pawlow; indeed, an honor
Coach Dehner was correct; I was always lucky...every time one door closed another door opened with incredible opportunities.
Tomorrow...My connection with the top two all-time IHSA prep basketball scorers.
I would not deny that Coach Dehner was a tough coach for whom to play or perhaps better stated, he made it difficult to perform under his sarcastic and critical nature. I began grade school in Washington Park (E. St . L) at mid-year, which naturally plays out as a mid-year high school graduate. At some point during my junior high and summer baseball playing, Coach Dehner made the assessment that I would better 'serve' his two programs (baseball and basketball) if I would drop out of school for a semester and return thus positioning me to have two full back-to-back seasons and graduating in June.
After pitching for his spring 1954, varsity 'Flyers,' I continued school the fall of '54 and then I dropped out the second semester as I became sixteen years old. I then returned to East Side High the following fall with my junior and senior years ahead. The decision worked out to Dehner's benefit and certainly to my advantage. Dehner won a couple of SWC baseball titles and a Regional basketball tournament. I would have likely never attended college had I not been recruited with the offer of a free education by the baseball and basketball coaches at Illinois State. Two back-to-back years playing baseball and basketball for Dehner was 'the key.'Therein lies the 'special' relationship forged by Coach Dehner and his prote'ge.' He later attempted to discourage me from entering the 'coaching profession.' When he realized that I was going to become a coach, he took me aside and gave me this advise: "If one of player, any given season, loves the game as you, consider yourself lucky." He then added: "You better develop tough skin quickly."
When playing basketball at East Side for 'Pick,' I recall once pouting about something he had said. He jerked me off the floor and told me to come to him to reenter the game once I finished acting like a baby. I was determined to stay seated on the bench when assistant coach Lou Wapple came to me and said, "Moe, how long have you known Dehner?" I said, "Since I was in the sixth grade." Coach Wapple then asked, "Have you ever seen him lose one of these bull-headed standoffs?" I got up went to Coach Dehner and said, "I'm ready to play, Coach." He looked into my eyes and said, "Don't ever act like that again!"...he then told me to take it for another player.
Back then I got that 'eye look' from another man; my father. I once complained about my high school basketball team and my dad put his fork down at our supper table and said, "Boy, you look at me! Don't bring your sport problems to our family supper table; I never bring my work problems to our table. If you don't like something on your team then do something to change it!"
Many years later, Pick and I squared off as SWC coaching adversaries. One night, Greg Ahart hit a jump shot at the horn to beat Dehner's 'Flyers' at East Side. When our 'Tigers' were leaving East St. Louis' gym to return to Edwardsville, Dehner yelled at me,
"Roustio, you always were lucky!"
I emailed-replied my Edwardsville friend to tell him that I was at Coach Dehner's funeral...I was one of the pallbearers along with Billy Altenberger, Joe Lucco, Virgil Fletcher and Tony Pawlow; indeed, an honor
Coach Dehner was correct; I was always lucky...every time one door closed another door opened with incredible opportunities.
Tomorrow...My connection with the top two all-time IHSA prep basketball scorers.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Class and Dignity
Dean Harris...Part 3
The funeral plans for Dean called for a wake visitation at Officer Funeral Home (East St. Louis) one evening and burial the next day in that river city. I immediately held concerns for hundreds of young teens from Edwardsville high school who may attend the wake and the possibility of becoming lost in some questionable areas of my 'hometown.' By the year 1974, East St. Louis was beginning to experience some serious crime-ridden pockets. (Note: Within the last four years, I drove through East St. Louis and felt unsafe in my old neighborhood of Washington Park; it both angers and saddens me). We could not allow scores of young people to risk problems simply wishing to pay respect to their friend, Dean Harris.
I telephoned 'Tree' and Hazel to express my concerns about the wake being in East St. Louis and ask them if they would sign-off on having Dean's visitation in the foyer of the Edwardsville high school gym. Dean's parents concurred with my safety assessments and agreed; now I just needed to convince a school board, which was always prepared to reject any of my proposals. Fortunately, my Principal, Neal Schmelzel prevailed with his plea to the higher powers and the Dean Harris visitation was scheduled for the Edwardsville high school site. Of course, as expected, there was some critical rumblings from the 'old guard' naysayers and folks with blinding personal vendettas.
I have attended many wake-visitations during my life's journey and I can state without reservations that I have never witnessed such somber dignity. Dean's white casket was positioned directly in front of the gymnasium foyer's athletic trophy case. The 'full-body-view' casket held the body of a beautiful and talented young man. Positioned to each side of the casket was an honor guard; all former Edwardsville 'Tigers' basketball teammates each of whom recalled happy moments of playful joking with their friend and competing feverishly together to 'win-the-game.' Dressed in white tuxedos, each player stood frozen in motion with expressionless somber stares as if they simply could not do enough to express a 'Brotherly love.' I have never experienced a more proud moment for 'my players.'
Over one thousand five hundred visitors signed the memorial-registration book and filed past Dean Harris to whisper their personal goodbyes. The last two people coming through the receiving line...long time basketball adversary, Coach Virgil Fletcher and wife Violet. Coach Fletcher shook my hand and said, "Mel, I am so sorry we are all here tonight." I could not have agreed more; this venue was for spirited-fun competition between talented youngsters. We are not supposed to be here for this heartbreaking gathering.
The next day Dean's family, friends, high school and college teammates along with coaches assembled in an East St. Louis Church where sincere (eulogy) words were spoken and naturally falling short of easing our terrible pain. A young man was laid to eternal rest that day and a 'DREAM' ended. We all returned to our respective life challenges never forgetting a talented basketball player with a warm and friendly manner.
I will honestly admit that a part of my heart never healed from that experience. I would not deny other contributing factors.
The funeral plans for Dean called for a wake visitation at Officer Funeral Home (East St. Louis) one evening and burial the next day in that river city. I immediately held concerns for hundreds of young teens from Edwardsville high school who may attend the wake and the possibility of becoming lost in some questionable areas of my 'hometown.' By the year 1974, East St. Louis was beginning to experience some serious crime-ridden pockets. (Note: Within the last four years, I drove through East St. Louis and felt unsafe in my old neighborhood of Washington Park; it both angers and saddens me). We could not allow scores of young people to risk problems simply wishing to pay respect to their friend, Dean Harris.
I telephoned 'Tree' and Hazel to express my concerns about the wake being in East St. Louis and ask them if they would sign-off on having Dean's visitation in the foyer of the Edwardsville high school gym. Dean's parents concurred with my safety assessments and agreed; now I just needed to convince a school board, which was always prepared to reject any of my proposals. Fortunately, my Principal, Neal Schmelzel prevailed with his plea to the higher powers and the Dean Harris visitation was scheduled for the Edwardsville high school site. Of course, as expected, there was some critical rumblings from the 'old guard' naysayers and folks with blinding personal vendettas.
I have attended many wake-visitations during my life's journey and I can state without reservations that I have never witnessed such somber dignity. Dean's white casket was positioned directly in front of the gymnasium foyer's athletic trophy case. The 'full-body-view' casket held the body of a beautiful and talented young man. Positioned to each side of the casket was an honor guard; all former Edwardsville 'Tigers' basketball teammates each of whom recalled happy moments of playful joking with their friend and competing feverishly together to 'win-the-game.' Dressed in white tuxedos, each player stood frozen in motion with expressionless somber stares as if they simply could not do enough to express a 'Brotherly love.' I have never experienced a more proud moment for 'my players.'
Over one thousand five hundred visitors signed the memorial-registration book and filed past Dean Harris to whisper their personal goodbyes. The last two people coming through the receiving line...long time basketball adversary, Coach Virgil Fletcher and wife Violet. Coach Fletcher shook my hand and said, "Mel, I am so sorry we are all here tonight." I could not have agreed more; this venue was for spirited-fun competition between talented youngsters. We are not supposed to be here for this heartbreaking gathering.
The next day Dean's family, friends, high school and college teammates along with coaches assembled in an East St. Louis Church where sincere (eulogy) words were spoken and naturally falling short of easing our terrible pain. A young man was laid to eternal rest that day and a 'DREAM' ended. We all returned to our respective life challenges never forgetting a talented basketball player with a warm and friendly manner.
I will honestly admit that a part of my heart never healed from that experience. I would not deny other contributing factors.
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