God: Please bless America

Every time I stand in the super market checkout line and glance at the many tabloid magazine headlines the thought occurs to me that the American people truly embrace and celebrate tragic, sad and negative news.

During the evening television channel surfing, I stop for a bit to listen to and watch Fox News and MSNBC News and I realize the same folks obviously enjoy ugly innuendos, mean-spirited hateful blaming and blabbering name-calling.

 Add to our American cultural phenomenon, we don't tolerant people who worship differently or look differently. We'd like to keep 'those' people out of our Christian Nation. (Note: I'm still searching for those Biblical scriptures).

Meanwhile, as we Americans over-indulge in food and alcohol 'ringing-in' The New Year, let us sincerely pray that God WILL BLESS America for God only knows we sure need His Blessings.

It's a Goose Gander Thing.

I note Major League Baseball still has not been fired or suspended Dusty Baker (Washington Nationals' manager) for his reprehensible racist statements.

As an individual who irritates many people with my defense and positions of support of my Black Brothers and Sisters, I remain concerned that we cripple the cause of equality when we give a pass to a person of color who makes disgusting blanket and bigoted statements such as: "I need to get more 'black' baseball players who run faster than 'white' players." ...Or...."Black and Hispanic baseball players can take the summer heat better than 'white' players."

Dusty Baker should make a public statement substantiating such claims or apologize for his stupidity.

If not then we must accept stupid racists statement I.e., 'Blacks cannot swim because of heavier bones but they jump higher because of flat feet, not to mention they are born with rhythm."

If we are to ever clean up this hideous racial gobbledygook, we must shine a light on ALL.

Christian Voters, They Are Not !

A quick review of Donald Trump's campaign antics and  comments (paraphrased):

'Mexico is not sending us their best. They're sending us criminals, drug dealers, rapists, etc.'

Trump wishes to apply a Religious litmus test when it comes to Muslim freedoms in America.

Trump has Hispanic reporter removed from interview room.
Trump suggests female television host (Megan Kelly) is out of line with questions therefore she must be menstruating.
Trump states that Carly Fiornia has unattractive facial features, which Americans should not want in a President.
Trump suggests all members of the Bush Family are 'dumb.'
Trump makes fun of physically handicapped news reporter.
Trump calls Iowa voters stupid because Cruz is ahead in Iowa polls.
Trump brags that he has a big jet and lots of money.
Trump tells reporter he cannot reveal his favorite biblical scriptures because that's a private matter.

When reviewing the obnoxious bullying tactics of Presidential Candidate Donald Trump and the fact that it resonates with so many Republican voters it suggests voter stupidity. Example: Trump's proposal to ban Muslims entry into the USA would never get the support of Congress or the Supreme Court, therefore if supporters think Trump could get it done, they are STUPID. Trumps hate rhetoric underscores a reality that these Trump ideas underscores the fact that many from the Republican party fall short of their pontificated Christian ideals. That's a lot of gibber-jabber poppycock!

And if the Cruz supporters think their guy is much different, get a clue. Cruz knows that should Trump falter he (Cruz) picks up the majority of the bigoted Trump supporters.

Regarding ISIS, Trump says, "I'd bomb the shit out of them; Cruz cleans it up a bit stating, "Id carpet bomb them...I don't know if sand glows in the dark but we'll find out." Sounds good to me but let's bring back the military draft before our next ground war...all American families (wealthy and poor) should have an equal opportunity to bury sons and daughters.

Thanking You with Best Wishes

On this Christmas Eve let me pause from blog gibberish-jabber and express to all who take their valuable time to read my words and humbly thank you one and all. I understand that you sometimes agree while other times disagree. I sincerely hope that I never hurt any feelings, if I have let me apologize.

As we Christians celebrate the birth of our Savior let us embrace tolerance for those who hold other beliefs. May we all look to a new year with greater trust in others while being vigilant and may we HOPE for less anger expressed through violence and greater love for all people.

All the years that I traveled the country sharing messages with student athletes, parents and coaches, I left my audience with one challenge...I called it the 'post-it challenge.' Today, I offer you that challenge. Place a 'post-it note' on your bathroom mirror with this written reminder to read every morning: 'Today, I will be the most engaging and pleasant person I can be until 11:00 AM at which time I will stop.'

You will find out if you start each day in a caring and engaging frame of mind it is nearly impossible to change directions....May God richly bless you and yours this New Year 2016.

Scheduling Life!

From my earliest recollections until I started school at age six, I suppose my parents scheduled everything for me other than informal play. It was during those public school days that I began paying attention to a calendar. Why not? I could anticipate time away from that Palmer Method Writing stuff while embracing vacation time around holidays such as Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. It was about this time that I also became aware of 'scheduling' sports' play. Little League baseball, middle school and high school activities. Wow, my weeks started going by faster.

Those college years filled my calendar even more but once I became the husband / father that calendar was no longer just about me...the writing in those calendar squares had to become smaller to accommodate more folks.

I will turn 77 years old in a couple of months and already the family calendar, which tracks the events and appointments of my wife and me is filled through February 2016. Before you readers draw the conclusion that the Roustios live some fast-lane social life, I would tell you that is NOT the case unless you perceive Doctors' appointments as social outings.

These days, I am on a warm handshake-first name basis with a family Doctor, a ophthalmologist, a dermatologists, a podiatrist, a gastroenterologist, orthopedist, audiologist, cardiologist and urologist.

I am free most evenings but I prefer committing between 6PM to 8PM...I like to be in bed at 9PM.

Stupid IS What Stupid DOES.

Last week, I received a post card from the Macon County Courthouse, which informed me that I am designated as a prospective juror. The instructions were simple. I was to telephone Macon County Courthouse within five (5) days to complete my registration. Embracing my propensity to 'do it NOW,' I telephoned immediately as if I'd get a good grade before I sentenced someone to prison.

My phone call was answered by a programmed computer voice. Twelve minutes later after punching numbers on my phone-keypad, I was kosher with the courts. My telephone work-exercise reminded me of the plethora of stuff we now do as American citizens, which reduces the employment of neighbor's and lines the pockets of a select few.

Aside from pumping our own gasoline, we peruse grocery store aisles for food, take it to the self-checkout line where we scan, bag and pay. If we shop on line (reducing retail stores employment opportunities) we once again spend our time working as a clerk as we spend our money.

A few days past, I had an appointment with a urologist. The night before, I received a telephone call from the physician's office at 7 PM just as The Big Bang Theory was coming on, I was not happy. You got it...it was an automated telephone message. I was told where and when to report. Also, most importantly, I was informed that the urologist would not look at me should I not have a photo ID along with insurance card. As the automated voice gave instructions it also required me to punch numbers assuring the computer machine that I was understanding the commands.

When I showed up at the Doctor's office the receptionist opened a glass sliding door and pointed to a nearby computer screen on a stand telling me I was to self-register. I quickly and firmly informed her that I came to this place for 'service' not employment...she quickly realized that I was a different breed.

We are fools!

Makes No Sense to those who have Sense

Okay, we St. Louis Baseball Cardinals fans know that our Cardinals brass made two hearty financial offers, which fell on the deaf ears of  pitcher David Price (now with Boston) and Cub-bound outfielder, Jason Heyward. That would indicate what we all knew...we need another front line pitcher in our rotation and a quality outfield hitter.

Lo' and behold, last week General Manger, John Mozeliak boldly announced, "Dynamic signing unlikely for Cardinals." This old Redbirds-faithful has followed the Cardinals since the infield had Musial, Schoendienst, Kurowski and Marion with Walker, Moore and Slaughter in the outfield...Del Rice and Joe Garagiola splitting the catching duties from the likes of Munger, Lanier, Pollett, Dickson, Brecheen and closer, Ted Wilkes. I suppose I am to accept this verbal-shell-game!

This announcement on the heels of NOT signing Price and/or Heyward can only mean one of three things:  (1) The Cardinals don't need what they were prepared to pay a combined $275,000,000.00 for or (2) Ownership suddenly came out of a momentary mentally lapse remembering that they are ultra-conservative folks with an insatiable love of money or (3) Recalled that Cardinals fans show up no matter what product is on the field. Personally, I believe it is a combination of the latter two.

That said, don't crap me!

Say Goodnight, Gracie

Let me preface this rant with a fact. My wife is a financially prudent shopper. My wife can smell good sales three aisles away. Nevertheless, she drives me nuts should I dare shop with her. I shop with her at Christmas time only...I do the lifting and driving.

One good thing is we no longer buy a lot of gifts. We now give money to our grown kids, grandkids and great-grand youngsters. The reason is obvious...we are out of touch with generational clothing tastes and it's easier wrapping money. Still, my wife wishes to get each family member a couple of 'gifts' to unwrap.

We found ourselves in a Mall store two days ago. I approached my wife who was standing at a large bin of men's wallets. My wife spoke, "Do you think I should get Caleb a wallet?" Mel, "I don't know if Caleb needs a wallet." Wife, "I don't either." Mel, "Maybe you should ask his mother, she would likely know." Wife, "I might do that." At that moment, I left the bin of 100+ billfolds to look at some sportswear. Perhaps fifteen minutes later, I returned to the same area and noticed my wife still examining the wallets.  I said, "Still looking at wallets, who you got in mind?" Wife, "Caleb."
Abba Dabba Do...Say goodnight, Gracie.

Tell Me Why Not

Okay, shall we agree that both the Democratic AND Republican parties are both to blame for having no resolve in the illegal immigrant-broken Mexican border problem?

Well, hold on to your cap cousin, I have the solution. That's right, the dumb-ass basketball coach. You surely cannot be surprised. I was the basketball coach that had the State's best high school under the basket out of bounds play for four consecutive years. That would be the four years I coached Greg Ahart at Edwardsville high school. We just tossed the ball high above our rim and Ahart with his 40" vertical jump did the rest!

Back to solving the border, illegal immigrant problem. Simply incarcerate anybody who hires (employs) illegal immigrants. They will stop hiring illegals and soon ALL illegals will return to Mexico where they CAN get jobs.

I'm sure both Democrats and Republicans could agree with this concept.

Okay...your turn. I know you're chopping at the bit to tell me where I am wrong...GO!

Babes in Boots

I have participated in fund raising efforts for the 'Wounded Warriors Project.' I suppose that I am one of millions emotionally motivated watching leg less, armless and maimed military veterans in television ads and promos for the 'Project.' We likely all agree that our hearts ache for those horrifically injured men and women whose lives are changed forever from crippling injuries sustained while protecting our Nation. I pray for them nightly.

The aforementioned embraced, I find it in disgustingly sick taste for politicians, government officials or news reporters to use the term, 'boots on the ground' when speaking of military soldiers sent into war-zone-battles. The term is an insult to the mothers who birthed these lives. The term 'boots on the ground' subliminally minimizes the value of life. Therefore, when you hear some War hawks flippantly suggest, "We need more boots on the ground," remember they are talking about 'babes on the ground;' a mother's child in THOSE boots.

Blessed to have Shared

My wife and I traveled to Mason City, Illinois yesterday to visit with long time friends, Nash and Darlene Shawgo. The Shawgos have been dear friends since my coaching days in Mason City (1964 through 1967). I have always said that the Mason City basketbal coaching position was my biggest career break. Mason City was a community of dedicated players, avid fans and a deep winning tradition.

Nash and Darlene were established local folks who lived directly behind our Tonica Street home. Darlene was very close and helpful with the birth of baby Dawn in 1965. Nash was one of those crazy high school basketball fans and on more than one occasion when hazardous Mason County winter roadways made it problematic to scout an opponent, Nash fired up his propane truck and took Coach Roustio on that scouting trip. Nash also owned a local appliance store. When the Roustios needed a new refrigerator, Nash found one in his store that he could 'discount' because it just happened to have a scratch and dent thus allowing him to apply for the manufacturer's discount.

Through the years, we would occasionally hook up with the Shawgos for a luncheon. Recently, Darlene's Alzheimer's worsened making those get togethers more difficult. This past Sunday evening Nash and Darlene's oldest son, Brian telephoned to tell us his dad's cancer had aggressively invaded his bones. His journey is near its end.

Gerry and I had a two hour visit with Nash and Darlene, Monday. Nash was alert but uncomfortable even with the heavy morphine dose. Darlene occasionally recognized Gerry but never made the connection with me.

Left alone for thirty minutes, Nash and I remminisced a bit but talked extensively about his circumstance. He was a blessing for me because his spiritual strength is profound. Before we departed, Nash and I prayed as Gerry, Darlene and Brian locked hands with us.

Driving out of Mason City heading towards Lincoln, I had flash back moments of the laughter and wonderful times shared with Nash, Gene Blessman and Bud Jones who were nearby neighbor's and great supporters of the Coach. Gene and Bud are gone and Nash is nearing the end. I hurt inside. The high school is no longer Mason City high school but Illini Central high, which is a consolidated district. The school colors and mascot are but a memory recall as are this old coach's buddies.

I did live a richer life for having those fellas in that life...I thank you,God.

'The Way I See It...'

Differing 'points of view' is nothing new, we see the SAME thing but digest it through our filters of experiences and conditioned attitudes and desired outcomes, which best serve 'us.'

I was a seventeen old the summer of 1956, working at a St. Louis corrosion-protection plant. One product they produced was lead coils and pipes, which resisted corrosive acids. Frequently, the plant received a box car filled with hundreds of lead-bars. The bars had to be removed from the train-car in St. Louis stifling heat that  was near 100 degrees outside and likely 120 stifling-degrees inside the train's box car.

I recall the plant manager telling me at the end of the day, "You should give a work effort every day that causes you total fatigue each night." I did not debate the comment. I was happy to have a summer job paying $1.70 per hour.  This 'white-collar' executive who spent the day in air-conditioned comfort guy said a week earlier that while attending a Cardinals baseball game the following happened: A line drive foul ball came his way and he almost caught it with his bare hands. However, the ball fell to the bleacher floor and another fan retrieved the souvenir. He said that he got into a heated exchange with the ball owner suggesting that the baseball should be HIS predicated on the 'perspective' that HE took the 'sting' out of the ball with his bare hands.

The man's comments often reminded me of a movie I saw where a plantation owner sitting on a Southern Mansion veranda sipping mint juleps noted, "The Negroes seem to be coming in early from the fields today."

Wise Words

Someone once said, 'If you pray don't worry; if you worry don't pray.
Above all do not do both... it is disrespectful to the Lord.'

Tis' The Season to be Irritable

I had several 'Game Laughter' book orders to mail yesterday. Understand, there is a huge United States Post Office just a mile and a half from my family room chair. Another smaller Post Office is in a nearby community approximately five miles from that aforementioned chair.

With that background wrap your brain around this...the Post Office nearest my home charges $2.72 to mail one book while the Post Office the greater distance away charges me $2.08 for the same book. I know what your thinking. You think that I am confused with different rate offers, I.e., First Class vs. Media Mail. Trust me, I know the difference...this is not my first book mailings.

When you have 22 books to mail that calculates to a $14.00+ savings at the smaller, wait longer in the line, farther away...color me there...Post Office.

We can all agree that this time of year must be most stressful for postal workers. Yesterday, the two female workers got to nipping at each other in front of seven people holding huge packages in cramped quarters. As the back and forth snide remarks escalated, I could not stay quiet. Finally, I said, "You ladies sure have my respect at this holiday season...must be crazy days." Another patron spoke up, "I don't know how you gals can go home a sleep at night." Both postal ladies thanked us for positive and supportive comments.

Finally, my business was complete and I departed. I sure hope I have book orders through the holidays. I feel compelled to show up and give pep talks at the little Post Office...must be the 'coach in me.

Dusty & Donald

The year was 1988. Television sports' analyst and 'color' commentator, Jimmy 'The Greek' Snyder was fired by CBS Sports when he said, "If more Blacks get managerial jobs and executive jobs there won't be anything left for 'Whites' to do in the game; 'Blacks' are already taking all the playing positions."

 Racist ? You be the judge but first digest the following: The year was 2003. Chicago Cubs manager, Dusty Baker says, "Blacks and Latinos can take summer heat better than 'whites.' This past week (2015), Nationals' baseball manager, Dusty Baker says, " The Nationals need more 'Blacks' and Latinos because they run faster. ( Okay, admit it, you re-read the last two remarks because you thought Archie Bunker not Dusty Baker owned them).

Dusty Baker SHOULD be fired as the Nationals skipper but he won't be fired. Why? Political correctness has created a double-standard. It appears 'people of color' can now be as stupid as 'white folks' in an apparent attempt to even some score. I was not a Jimmy 'The Greek' fan but I defend him on the long-standing constitutional amendment known as the 'goose-gander' amendment.

Dusty Baker's comments suggest bigotry...he is out of the same ilk as Donald Trump...they are just on opposite sides of a sick social color preference.

Gotten Ugly!

American people, although kind-hearted when world tragedies strike, find themselves becoming more divisive, mean spirited and intolerant...and there is an obvious cause...Media Overexposure.

Let's return to those earlier days of news dissemination...the 1950's news cycle and reporting.

I recall local and national news 'print' (newspapers) that indeed slanted towards a political viewpoint however, those newspapers were on a 24 hour release mode. Consumers had 'down time' to digest and 'chill out.' The television nightly news was conducted by individuals the likes of John Cameren Swayze, Walter Cronkite, Chet Huntley and David Brinkley. The verbal news delivery from these gentlemen was packaged with a calmness and even a somewhat reassuring stability...the 'sky was NOT falling' every night at 6:00 PM on the three major television channels. The 'news-disseminating people were not constantly interpreting the news and 'telling' us how to 'think' as so many of today's TV pundits.

Today the news information is constant and unrelenting. It is presented 24/7 on several politically slanted cable networks. Most of these cable news networks overstate the phrase 'Breaking News.'  The competition for ratings is driven by sensationalism and finger-pointing angry debate. Our general public is in a state of on-going fault-finding rather than solution finding.
Add to this national news-presentation-phenomenon the personal blogs and Twitter, we American folks appear to be in a never-ending state of frustration or as my Mammy Bennett use to say, "You got yourself worked into a dither."

Many of our presidential candidates demonstrate a less than calm-leadership temperament. Those candidate hopefuls are calling people 'chicken shit' and offering crazy talk of bombing countries 'until the sand glows.'

GOP Presidential Candidates Donald Trump and Ted Cruz are fear mongering as they jump on the recent tragic terrorists killings in Paris and San Bernadino. Their over-the-top hate rhetoric plays to the most undesirable hateful prejudice attitudes amongst us.

Any level-headed Christ-like thinking follower knows that this is not what we wish to have as a President...then again, perhaps like the news reporting, the reader and viewer has changed.

Protecting All School Campuses

My 'out-of-the-box' thinking is stirred by Liberty University President Jerry Falwell Jr.'s recent proposal. Falwell, Jr. believes it is time for his students, staff and faculty to get conceal and carry gun permits. The Christian University leader believes that more guns are better and will deter these mass shootings. In Falwell's words, "Let's teach them a lesson if they ever show up here." The Godly man continues, "I've always thought if more 'good'  people had conceal and carry permits, then we could end those Muslims before they walk in." (Speculation: I believe Falwell's definition of 'good' people runs along some color, ethnic and religious barometer lines; just my guess).

It is time for Americans to listen to a Falwell. You recall years ago, the late senior Reverend Falwell warned this Nation about those 'TeleTubbies' and how they were designed to cause children to become 'gay.' Most ignored those warnings and you can readily see the problems we have today.

I believe Falwell, JR. is on the right path with this increased numbers of guns on campuses. Actually, the notion causes me to offer an extension of the Falwell concept. I remember when I was a 5th grader at Woodrow Wilson Grade School East St. Louis, Illinois. That school had a ' Patrol Boy' program. These older boys were charged with the responsibility to assist younger less street smart students how to negotiate neighborhood auto traffic to get across streets. Why not initiate a 'Gun Boy' program. Identify 5th & 6th grade boys who would take gun-shooting classes. They could then be equipped with firearms ready to counter-attack any school-intruders intent on shooting people. We should include female students in the gun program to avoid messy ACLU lawsuits and unpleasant PTA Meetings.

We could call this student-gun initiative, 'Patrol Killer Kids Program.'
This should not cost tax payers any money. The NRA would likely fund.

A Special Place

It was nice spending time this past Saturday in Jacksonville. The twenty-one years our family lived there and I had the privilege to coach the JHS Crimsons and work for WLDS radio. Those  experiences created special memories and wonderful friendships.

Sharing over an hour of conversation with Gary Scott, Buford Green and Ron Tendick on the WLDS Saturday Morning Sportsline was fun as always. Everyone can point to certain friendships that instantly explode with delightful interaction and exchange regardless the time between meetings. Most of my friendships in Jacksonville are thusly characterized...I am fortunate to know such good people.

After the radio gig, which Gary Scott kindly orchestrated to promote my book, 'Game Laughter' The Sunny Side of Sport, I spent an hour and a half signing books at Steak n' Shake on Morton Avenue. Enjoyed meeting many new folks and certainly happy to have conversation with Bob Hoffman and the Bettis'.

A quick stop at 'Our Town Books' on the Jacksonville square with more old friends who were wishing to purchase a book and chat awhile.

Sometimes we 'can go back' and when we can, we should.

The Star

My wife has been finishing up her indoor Christmas decoration. Next to the family room fire place, she placed a miniature Christmas tree and on top of the tree she placed a rather large gold-metal star with a blue light. That star is sixty-five years old. I recall when my Dad put it on top of our family tree at 5401 Rosemont Avenue Washington Park (East St. Louis). I was eleven years old.

Last night, I turned off all the lights in the family room except the blue bulb on that old star. I put Ray Charles' 'Spirit of Christmas' CD in the player and stared at that star while listening to Ray. A flood of memories rushed through this aging brain. I recalled the early days when Mammy and Grandpa E.V. Bennett's home was the Christmas Eve setting. I hung around E.V. because he was always near Mammy's homemade custard.

I remember getting a 'used' RoadMaster bike at age seven. I was ecstatic. Before we moved to Rosemont there was the Christmas times on Hallows Avenue where brother Tom and I waited for Santa.

Many years later my parents had moved to Collinsville where Dad regaled in decorating the outside of his large (corner lot home) especially the outside winding staircase. If one of those light bulbs burned out, he was on it like stink on a Skunk. One thing for certain, no matter where Gerry and I lived, no matter the winter weather, we knew we had to be at Mom and Dad's house Christmas Eve.

The last Christmas with a parent was with my mother at Meridian Village Home in Glen Carbon. That was three years ago. I remember it like yesterday. My children and many of the grandkids crowded into her small living quarters to shower her with love and gifts. She died a few weeks later days shy of Christmas.

That old 'Star' always brings back precious memories and a flood of tears.

Too Quick on the Draw

The fatal shooting of a 13 year old St. Louis boy who was rummaging through an unlocked car looking for 'change' with which to buy snacks has created a firestorm controversy and debate. Apparently the automobile was parked inside the homeowner's fenced property when the trespass occurred after the midnight hour.

As expected the controversy centers around the homeowner's property rights and perceived self-defense versus what some claim was the unnecessary use of excessive force with a firearm. Those supporting the shooter would argue he had every right to protect his property. The counter argument suggests the homeowner could have called police, made a noise or perhaps fired his gun into the air to scare off the intruder.

I would anticipate 'no charges.' However, a young life ends too soon.

 I recall the 12 year old pranks carried out by me and my neighborhood friends. We went into people's yards and turned over trash cans, we threw water-filled balloons at passing cars and opened front doors. I even recall setting fire to a bag-filled with feces on Mrs. Leroy's front stoop.

Thank goodness Mr. Jacknewitz and Mr. Vargo didn't shoot us.

He's My Best Buddy

James Wilkerson Yoder is seven years old today. Oh, excuse me, that is my eight pound Toy Poodle, 'Yodie.'

I can tell scrolling Facebook entries that the American people are crazy dog lovers. Those who don't care for dogs are just crazy.

I have had a dog my entire life. The first dog I called mine was actually my mothers dog when she was a teenager. 'Pal' was a medium size mixed breed. A lovable dog. I could take you to the spot where Grandpa E.V. Bennett buried that old dog. My wife and I have held too many old dogs that were 'put-down' due to various irreversible health issues. Hope I don't have to do that again.

As a young boy, I remember talking to my dogs when we were alone. I don't do that these days; I talk to Yodie ALL the time regardless if alone or in a crowd. One of my daughters said that I treat Yodie better than I treated my kids...never did understand the point she was making.

 I have never been good training dogs. Once I house break them I stop bugging my dogs. Yodie, however has done a good job training me. I know what a soft growl means vs. a deep growl and a right rear leg 'raking' has a different meaning than a left rear leg 'rake.' I'll tell you something else about Yodie...he defines unconditional love.

Who ever said, "Dog is man's best friend" was right on! Happy birthday, little buddy.

Another Entitlement ?

I am very aware of the tendency for older people to be very critical of the younger generation. I have kept that thought in the front of my mind. I wish NOT to ever embrace that posture. The easiest things to do is raise someone else's kid or coach the other guy's team. Not falling for that trap.

That position does not disqualify me from pointing out observations that signify change, which is foreign to me. I have shared with you that I coordinate an eight team boys Thanksgiving basketball tournament for Decatur. We hire several police officers for security purposes however, we  have never had any issues but one never knows with 8400 people attending throughout the week.

I kid you not when I tell you that several police officers sat and engage their cell phones. I suppose they are scrolling Facebook entries...God Bless. I suppose the motto is: 'Serve and Protect' (if you can get my attention).

I don't know your 'take' but I think cells phones should be out of sight when the individual is 'on' the job.

It Happened Subtly

Often, I observe my teenage grandkids struggling with social interaction and pressure, which are, for the most part, foreign to my personal experiences. I remember one of my children telling me that they really did not enjoy high school life all that much, whereas, I found those years fun times.

In any event, I find myself feeling sorry for grandchildren. I wish they could have the 1950's teen experience.

Recently, I read where a Cleveland high school has canceled all school dances because the students insist on performing 'dirty' dance moves publicly. With the decay of social morals, we have pushed the bad behavior envelope to unimaginable limits, which resulted in our youth being robbed of its innocence...how very sad.

Thank You

Wherever and whenever you can give a shout out to the many churches, civic organizations and volunteers that spent so much money and effort to reach out to the needy and homeless with food this Thanksgiving week...God Bless.

This effort sends a true Christian message of love.

It's Good to be Lucky

Personally, I view Thanksgiving two ways: It is a special day when family and love ones can gather to celebrate the bountiful blessings from our Lord God, Creator of goodness and Grace.

Secondly, I pause with acknowledgment that this Thanksgiving tradition also signifies the historical time when a bunch of 'refugees' DID begin to annihilate a native group.

Thank God those Indians did not build a wall or vote to put us back on the Mayflower.

Happy Thanksgiving, may God bless.

The Way We Were

My East St. Louis youth Thanksgiving recollections date back to the 1940's and 1950's. It was a tradition-rich predictable day. Please note that those years did not offer high school football State  Playoffs. Therefore, the East St. Louis high school 'Flyers' and Belleville-West Township high school 'Maroons' met for a season-ending contest. This football match up often decided the Southwestern Conference Title.

Naturally, the games was hosted by one of the two rivals. No matter where, a crowd in excess of 10,000 fans crammed together, regardless of weather, to cheer their respective teams. The Wednesday before this Thanksgiving football contest was a special school rally day for each school. The Belleville students called the rally, 'Hobo Day.' The East Side kids referred to that rally as 'Pep Day.'
Automobiles, not floats were decorated in school colors and paraded ceremoniously up and down the Belleville 'hill' near Edgemont...a border area between the two cities. Sometimes those parades became a tad bit continuous.

Before the East Side students headed out for parade activities,,we assembled in the school auditorium for a 'talent show.' Let me state unequivocally, East Side had some incredible singers, dancers and musicians. They all showed their stuff!

After the game, which East usually won. My family congregated at Grandma Roustio's house deep in the Washington Park area. Great food, especially pies. When I was very young, we wait later into the evening to hear a traditional broadcast from the North Pole where Santa Clause was telling us about his impending trip. When I was a high school age teen, I prepared for the annual Football Formal Dance. We are 'talking' FORMAL. The 'Football Queen' coronation was held and we danced till midnight at the Shriners' Ainad Temple.

As Archie said, "Those was the days!"

This Girl Lived That Life

The last season Bill Self was coaching the Fighting Illini basketball team, he was attending the Decatur Turkey Tournament, which was held on the Millikin University campus at the Griswold Center. This particular year, Self was hot on the trail of Shaun Livingston who was playing for Peoria High. I was coordinating the tournament and sitting at press row (Courtside) with Self and my wife (Gerry) during the Saturday night title contest.

The gymnasium was packed and all attending were being entertained by the nip n' tuck game between Peoria and Bartonville Limestone high school. With approximately three minutes remaining in a tied game, my wife, Gerry leaned around Self to tell me she was leaving and she'd see me when I got home. A startled Bill Self looked at me then turned and addressed Gerry, "You're kidding! Surely, you are going to stay and see how this thing (game) turns out?" Calmly and matter-of-factly Gerry spoke to Self, "Bill, I've seen hundreds of these games and I know how it's going to turn out. One coach's wife is going to have a fun relaxing Sunday and another coach's wife is in for a miserable Sunday!"

When Self stopped laughing, he said, "Lady that may be the best line I've ever heard from a coach's wife."

Great Game Inspite of ...

The IHSA boys' basketball season begins this week. Across the State, small towns and city schools will begin the five month grind. These kids will play 28-30 games while completing nearly 100 practice sessions.

There are prime time players, reserves who play significant roles and a few bench guys who see little action. All have ownership to the team. Sitting in the stands are a variety of folks. You will find the old time basketball buff, the parents and relatives of band members, cheerleaders and Pom teams and of course, many parents and some grandparents of players.

I am reminded of the military mother who was present at her son's parade-review. Her son is out of step as his squad passes the review stand and the mother notices something differently, "I wish the rest of those boys would get into step with my boy."

I am reminded of a parent of one of my players who would yell at games, "Roustio, put your first team in!" That parents first team was HIS kid and any four others to my liking.

The coach will be criticized for playing the wrong kids, using the wrong offense or defense, playing too fast or too deliberate. From the top of the bleachers the coaching job looks easy. It's always easy doing a job for which you are NOT held accountable. However, if that coach is successful teaching his guys to play to their strengths, teaching players to believe in each other and trust the coach, the team will likely play to its potential and have an enjoyable experience.

One common denominator is shared by every high school basketball coach. After every game at about 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning the coach will roll over in bed a briefly wake up. He will quickly recall a win or loss...never fails.

Growing Up...not always fun

Today, my wife and I will travel to the Chicago Northwest Suburbs. We have made this jaunt dozens of times over many years. Always enjoy that trip because we see grandchildren, our daughter, Dawn and her husband, Shawn. Their home offers a busy schedule with seven of our 15 grandchildren holding court.

Today will be a much more somber occasion. Our son-in law's eighty-six year old mother's wake visitation brings our family together. LaLa, as the kids call her lived nearby and has always been a fixture at those gatherings. It will be a sad day; a particularly sad day for grandkids.

We all become so comfortable enjoying warm relationships. We give little thought to this end of life experience. We wish our love relationships could last forever but life longs for itself and begs the question.

The most difficult aspect of today's gathering will be the 'coming of age death experience' for young grandchildren. Harsh reality rules the day. Disney World and ball games seem far away.

...the land of the free and the home of the brave?

Shame on us. Shame on our non-acceptance of refugees. More than two dozen Republican Governors have said they shall refuse refugees. This attitude exposes two things about our Nation:  (1) We purport to be a Christian Nation but fail to walk the walk of Jesus Christ and (2) We have some shamefully sad leaders.

I simply make this point asking the question: Do those state Governors who wish to ban refugees think for a moment that refugees in a neighboring state might find it easy going from state to state in our 'free' society? Of course, never mind that in the first place those sad-ass Governors DO NOT have the power or authority to impose such bans.  OMG...how stupid!

It appears that a few GOP folks favor allowing 'Syrian-Christian' refugees into America but not non-Christians. This GOP continues to cloak itself in racist rhetoric. Just give it some time and these same cold-hearted souls will be talking about protecting the unborn.

America's Greed Prevails

In most sports, the total package of the athlete combines both the measurable and immeasurable factors impacting sports' performance. Those measurable factors would include size (height/weight), fast twitch muscle explosiveness (speed/quickness/vertical), agility, flexibility, lung capacity and nutritional relationship to performance objectives.

Of course, we could present a litany of immeasurable elements playing some role in sports' performance. For the sake of typing space, I wish to offer one significant immeasurable sports performance factor and then make my point, therefore you can get on with important life issues.

Immeasurable, as used here, means  too extreme to measure. My immeasurable athletic factor is 'game intelligence.' Smart execution of game plans can and often do negate the differential of 'team talents.' College coaches can recruit the physical and/or mental factors they value. High school coaches must play the DNA talent from their school boundaries. That said, I assessed my talent yearly and then embraced the mental/game smartness as I sold that approach to my players.

 The frustrating thing about being a sport purest today is the rules makers keep changing rules to please the novice fan and create television revenue payoffs. Most recently, the college basketball rules makers have again shortened the shot clock-time to create a faster pace game with higher scores. Therefore, if you are a University of Wisconsin basketball fan, you might want to attend more movies this winter. If you are the parent of a fat-butt, slow-moving high school player, hoping your kid is going to receive an athletic scholarship, you may wish to check out a nearby Junior College.

The good news is even if your kid is dumb as a sack of rocks your boy/girl still gets a free ride as long as the kid runs like the wind and has bunny hops.

A Message for The Neighbor Family

Rock & Roll Hall of Fame singer, Eddie Levert of the O'Jays has still 'got game.' The man delivers with a powerful voice and engaging entertainment personality. Attending the O'Jays / Gladys Knight concert at the Fox Theater (St. Louis), Levert spoke candidly to the audience near the shows end regarding today's youth. Before I paraphrase those comments let me preface by saying the audience of 4,500 people was perhaps 95% 'Black.' I make this point because it is right to do so considering Levert's philosophy about raising kids.

Lervert's random opinions are here paraphrased: 'Kids are out of control fearing nobody. They go to school and do not respect / fear teachers or the administration. In the streets they blow off law enforcement with an attitude of non-compliance and no fear of police authority. In fact, the police have greater fears that they may easily get in trouble when attempting to control the unruly youth. The kid goes home where the lack of respect and no-fear life style continues. Levert continued saying, "We parents need to knock some kids upside the head and beat the shit out of them so they no what it feels like to respect and fear."

Of course, the audience was on board with those comments because don't you just know that the few hundred white folks' attending thought Levert's comments were about 'black kids.' Give me a break...

I've got a flash for parents with doubt. Once upon a time children of all colors and ethnic background respected and feared. Today, African-American families continue to create privileged youth attitudes as have white families for decades. And if white parents for a moment believe the lack of respect/fear permeating our country is a 'black family problem only...those folks are full of crap or as Eddie Levert would say, "You need to knock the shit outta some people."

Seemed Like Old Times

De'ja' Vu. I had some old flashbacks, some moments of seeing familiar scenes but sensing something missing. This past Saturday night, I was walking the immediate area around the Fox Theater located at the intersection of Washington Avenue and Grand Boulevard in St. Louis, Missouri. I have often walked those streets before but it had been some 54 years when last my wife and I had been afoot in that neighborhood. The occasion to head to the iconic Fabulous Fox, a National Historical Landmark, which was built in 1929 was to attend the musical concert of Gladys Knight and the O'Jays.

Back in the day, (1940's & 1950's) that theater was a special date night destination to see the latest movie. Today, I still have photos of my teenage girlfriend (wife, Gerry) taken by sidewalk photographers as we walked towards the Fox Theater entrance. I also recall the intersection representing the final leg of a three-part journey from my East St. Louis home by city bus to Washington Avenue near the Eads bridge where I caught a St. Louis city bus to Grand Avenue for the last leg by streetcar to old Sportsman Park to root for the Cardinals.

St. Louis like many American cities has suffered the negatives of industrial decline, white flight, shrinking tax base and escalating inner city decay and crime. The proud folks appear to be fighting back to gain yesterday's look and feel.

Oh, the concert? You're kidding? A packed house of nearly 5,000 music lovers were brought to their feet time and again with the powerful yet sweet voice of Gladys Knight and the familiar songs and dance moves of the O'Jays. I thank our son, Steve and daughter-in law, Kathy for taking care of the old folks and allowing us to be young at heart recalling, 'The Way We Were.'

Stupid comes in all Colors

You know, I do understand. I understand how people can become so frustrated and angry with others whom they wish to support. Currently, I am very frustrated and angry with the behavior of some (black & white) college students. I'll make this simple. I have fought the racism battle for years. Your welcome to investigate that claim. That said, I am compromised with my arguments in behalf of blacks who suffer the slings and arrows of discrimination and injustices when some over-the-top stupid behavior hurts the cause.

Leaving the grocery store parking lot yesterday, I heard Rush Limbaugh in a high frenzy rant about this very issue. Of course, Rush was not upset with blacks' behavior (specifically) at the University of Missouri. Nope! In true Limbaugh fashion, he had already identified the college problem and determined the solution. I paraphrase Rush's comments and inferences: 'University students are taught by liberal wackos. These students should not be allowed an opinion expression on any matters of consequent nor should those students hold any voting rights. Actually, Rush with half his brain up his ass (or did he say, "tied behind my back?) concludes that America's political voting age should be changed to age twenty-five.'

Rush did not elaborate on changing the age at which young people can embrace a patriotic opinion motivating them to join the military and fight and perhaps die in a corporate America war.

Poor Me

How important can it be? Read the accounts of Nazi Germany before WWII. I'm talking about the 'free and open press.' No surprise these days, Americans find our 'free and open press' under attack by the wannabe government officials. On the one hand the Republicans would like the 'press' to investigate the hell out of Hillary Clinton's background but don't ask Presidential candidate, Ben Carson 'how that kid he attempted to kill is doing these days.' I'm  just saying, maybe that kid was not wearing a belt that day. Given today's 'bag & sag' fashion who wears a belt except some nerdy-ass white kid. Was it a white kid? Was it a racial incident? Did some white kid call Ben the 'N' word?

Our Poor politicians are America's newest group of victims. And playing the role of victim works. You folks having your Starbucks coffee this morning, in that Anti-Christmas cup, have gathered in the restaurant's corner chit-chatting about how awful you think it is how the blacks play that 'Race-Card' at every chance...well, if that is your cloak for they day then accept poor Ben's bitching about the press vetting everything he says. And also let's feel sorry for Cruz, Rubio and Bush for being held accountable by our press. These people simply wish to have your financial support, money and vote...other than that leave them alone to use the 'Party's credit card.'

Poor 'woe-is-me' Ben, if he could just capture that magic carpet ride of 'racial' victimization and that evil press victimization, the chap will soon move into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, DC.

Thank Goodness Fox News is 'Watching Out for Us.'

I hate-a-say but I told my mom and dad in 1958, that I feared a conspiracy to take 'Christ' out of Christmas. Okay, that's not exactly true. I didn't say any of that. However, it was 1958 when the first artificial Christmas tree was manufactured in Chicago. As Archie Bunker would say, "If God wanted us to have them fake trees He'd grow'em in da woods for us to cut down."

Today, we got people saying, 'Happy Holidays' as they intentionally rip at the fabric of Christianity, which if not for the likes of Hannity, O'Rielly and Rush we'd never hear those sacred words, 'Merry Christmas.' Why, I recall that freshmen year at the State University when that liberal professor tried to fill our heads with that notion that Christmas was a Pagan celebration. I sure didn't tell any of my kin folks back in East St. Louis about the prof's crazy propaganda; they'd likely tarred and feathered the guy.

Lo' & Behold, this Christmas season, we can't even buy our $5.00 Starbucks' Latte and enjoy the Christmas greetings inscribed on the cup...nope, the cup is all 'red.' Probably some Communist message.

I've decided to keep an open mind on this presidential run. The first candidate that comes to their senses and prioritize ideas placing this 'War on Christmas' #1 ahead of gun control, immigration, healthcare and the economy...well, he's getting my vote.

I recall back at Lansdowne junior high school, East St. Louis in the early 1950's. We used to get a long Christmas vacation from school. My good Jewish friend, Alan Stienman told me that his parents were going to complain to the school district that the Jew's should get the same vacation length to celebrate Hanukkah. Hogwash! Next thing you know, we'll be allowing black people to stay in our white neighborhoods after dark The following fall, I put my two cents in to have half-days during afternoon World Series Games.

He What?

I was recently in one of those 'gun debates' at a family gathering. Add that conversation topic to that of religion and politics as topics, which should not be publicly aired. Those three topics: religion, politics and gun ownership are issues with profound misconceptions about other views laced with one's ethnocentric beliefs and intolerance.

When the second amendment was scribbled into the United States Constitution, we countrymen owned muskets and yet today, some argue the right to own assault weapons. This  represents a growing number of people left behind in the American formal educational process.

One family member told of a gun debate issued resolved between he and his wife. It appears she is fearful of a loaded gun in the home. However, he wants the perceived gun protection assurance. They have compromised. He keeps the gun in the master bedroom but it is empty. The bullets are kept downstairs in a kitchen cabinet.

If you give thought to this arrangement it becomes clear how truly frightening it is living in America and even more scary being a member of my family. Now look, many family members read my daily blog. I need not disclose which side of our family-hodgepodge this debate involves. In fact, I will never mention if it's the 'good guts' or 'bad guys.'

Liar, Liar Pants On Firer

Truth be known, I suppose we are all guilty. Guilty of some exaggerations about our past, guilty of a few lies, yep simply guilty of telling tall tales. Perhaps it's our nature to overstate and glorify our history. I recall reading somewhere that America's college campuses were fertile ground for high school graduates to gather and flat out lie through their front teeth about past escapades.

Most people don't believe that those overstated stories about our past experiences will come back to bite us. Recently, we saw the fall of NBC News anchor, Brian Williams because he exaggerated a war experience as a journalist and some folks checked it out. Williams made matters worse when he did not come clean. Ultimately the man was disgraced and fired from a very prestigious news position of public trust.

Republican Presidential candidate, Dr. Ben Carson told some 'tall tales' about his supposedly troubled  youth and angry violent behavior. He told of having a robber place a gun in his ribs at a fast food restaurant. He explained how he chased folks with hammers with intent to do bodily harm. He recalls in his early teens stabbing another teen who was saved from death because the knife broke when hitting the belt buckle.

These stories would never be checked out had Dr. Ben not enter the Presidential race. Wow! Wouldn't it be fascinating to talk with the grown man who Ben nearly killed with his knife. Maybe the man also became a Doctor. Then perhaps he is a successful rap singer. We'll never know because the evil liberal-media, all of which are descendants from Satan cannot locate this phantom cat.

Ben, you and that other politician who has thievery tendencies make Trump look honorable. Now THAT'S a frightening thought.

Welcome to My World, Mr. President

Well, Hallelujah ! I finally have a 'strange bedfellow' in a staunch Republican. Of course, I must point out that 'the' Republican was slow coming around to my way of thinking. The Republican is none other than our 41st President, George H. W. Bush. Thank you, George, Sr. Doesn't it feel cleansing to speak such candid truth. Those two cats you called out remind me of faces at the Nuremberg Trial.

Former President George H. W. has a new book ready for release and in the book the daddy of 'W' blast his son's Vice-President and Secretary of Defense. Papa Bush calls Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld too 'hawkish,' talking too harsh and inflexible, all of which tarnished America's reputation around the world. Senior Bush referenced Cheney as a "hard-ass"'and Rumsfeld as "arrogant."

The War Hawk defenders, John McCain, Cheney and Rumsfeld are already dismissing George H.W. Bush's comments by subtly hinting that the senior Bush is likely senile and his opinions hold little validity. I shall sit back and listen to the hawkish, trash talking, inflexible pundits such as Hannity, O'Rielly and Limbaugh gingerly distance themselves from old man Bush while continuing to promote  uncompromising Republican arrogance as they spin their divisive hatred.

Yodie Delivers the Goods

Normally, I take breakfast each morning to my wife in our upstairs bedroom. The AM menu usually consists of cereals both hot & cold or the occasional pancakes or French Toast. The daily breakfast moments permits visiting, newspaper reading and 'Today Show' snippets.

The aforementioned routine documented, you can imagine my surprise when yesterday morning, my wife was rattling pots and pans about 40 minutes ahead of the normal schedule. She yelled to me in the family room where I was reading, "Would you like a couple of scrambled eggs?" WOW! What's going on, I'm wondering. We don't have a mid-week breakfast of eggs at 7:00AM.

Moments later she called out my name again to tell me my eggs were ready. As I entered the kitchen things suddenly became clear. I walked past Toy Poodle, Yodie who was bent over gobbling up his morning breakfast. Lo' & Behold, Yodie was eating a scrambled egg mixed in with his dry cereal.
I was tempted to call my wife out on her obvious ' guilt eggs' but I bit my tongue. Why look a 'gift dog in the mouth?'

Book is Available

This past Monday evening, my wife and I paid our respects attending the wake visitation of a lady whose son I coached on the Assumption high school baseball team (Assumption, Illinois) in 1963. It was my first varsity coaching position at that high school of 225 students, which is now consolidated with Moweaqua, Illinois forming Central A & M. The 91 year old, Barb Cazalet was a delightful person who demonstrated unbelievable faith in the face of losing two sons at young ages; one with muscular dystrophy and a second son with cancer.

While standing in the outer foyer of the funeral home, Tony Woods, another player from that 1963 baseball team walked up to me and opened his mouth wide and then smiled. I quickly said, "One thousand one, one thousand two..." Tony winked and said, "And we picked him off second base." Tony was recalling a 'timing play' we ran over fifty years ago on that Assumption baseball team. Woods, playing shortstop would open his mouth wide as the pitcher stretched. He and the pitcher would then count to one thousand two then the pitcher would whirl and throw behind the base runner to the shortstop breaking for second base.

I tell this story for two reasons: It is both amazing and frightening what people recall over the years. Secondly, those recalls were most often very funny.

I have recently authored my fourth book, which is entitled, "Game Laughter" (The Sunny Side of Sports). In the book, I recall a total of 115 stories. Most of these humorous recollections came from my personal playing days in East St. Louis and Illinois State University but many more from coaching stops at the following Illinois high schools: Assumption, Mason City, Washington, Edwardsville, Jacksonville and Decatur. Also, I was blessed with radio hosting opportunities that opened doors to more sports' humor.

The book cost is $12.00, which covers postage. You may send a check or money order (payable to TEPCA) to Mel Roustio 3991 Greenridge Dr. Decatur, IL. 62526 or telephone Mel Roustio @ (217 358-7574.

Think About It

One of the reasons I pass on morning coffee with 'the fellas' centers around my desire to keep the few friends I have. I know that those AM coffee gatherings presents a multitude of topics and I am positive politics is one. That said, most old farts, like me are Republicans whereas, I am not. You see the picture developing?

Recently, a high school age neighbor kid stopped by the house asking me to participate in a political science project. It seems his class has a lesson requiring students to gather political philosophies or attitudes and after collecting data they discuss opinions expressed against factors such as gender, age, amount of formal education, etc.

The survey was a breeze for me. Question: Mr. Roustio, if you were a Presidential candidate what would be your main 'talking point?' (I wished I'd videoed the lad when I spoke these words):
"I would push for legislation that mandates every new born males must have a vasectomy. When the male reaches the age of 21+ he may have the procedure reversed IF he has steady full-time employment, has fifteen thousand dollars in savings and knows 12 nursery rhymes."

I would not suggest all our country's problems would be solved through this legislative enactment but a hellava lot would go away.

...okay, okay, I jest. I recognize the silliness in my political platform. I told the student as much. However, let me tell you readers this: I was an educator for nearly forty years, I have a son, daughter daughter-in law and two granddaughters teaching in the public schools today. Collectively, they have taught for approximately 75 years (give or take). The stories they share does not paint a positive picture about accountability being taught in the American homes today.

Men & Women Age Differently

My wife is a better person than her husband. She is more genuine, kinder, engaging, pure and sincere. I don't mean to suggest that I am a bad person...my wife is simply better. That said, she parents differently and relates differently. She also makes boys mentally weaker with her nurturing.

Follow my logic: Last week, I had a16-year old grandson and his 16-year old friend at my house. I fed them very well and gave them free advice on things like responsibilities, being accountable for your behavior and respecting others. As I said, no charge for these informational life-staple morsels.

I also paid these two boys $10.00 per hour per person for raking and bagging yard leaves. Lots of leaves but that is immaterial because the $10.00 per hour negates all questions and moaning about the amount of leaves. I explained to them that while working no cell phone and no standing around bullshitting. If they want to do that then the pay is $5.00 per hour. With ground rules established, my wife interrupted the boys to give them gloves. My wife worried that the 45 degrees and wind made things tough on the boys. My wife interrupted the boys to give them hot chocolate, which ultimately created a situation to stand, check cell phones and bullshit. My point: At every turn whether it is school grading systems, sports participation or manual labor, we adults are making the next generation 'SOFT.' Too soft! I'm right on this and my wife is wrong.

Look, it's simple, I'm trying to 'Make America Great Again' like Trump. If these homegrown people can't cut the mustard then I should hire some illegal immigrants to rake my leaves before that wall is built.

Perhaps, just perhaps it's the aging process. As women age they become even more caring while old males simply become more cantankerous.

Cry Me a River

There certainly is much hullabaloo amongst the GOP presidential candidates over these ongoing televised debates. It appears the Republican candidates feel they are being asked loaded, mean-spirited questions by those evil left wing-leaning media folks. Again, we have boogieman conspiracies.

 GOP Tea Party guy, Ted Cruz has a solution to this debate debacle. Cruz suggest that the Republican debate should be moderated by Republicans. Now this approach to competition should sound familiar to you readers. It is much like 'coach-pitch little league baseball.' For those who may be unfamiliar with 'coach-pitch' let me explain: The pitcher is one of the fathers of the team batting. The pitcher wants the batter to be successful.

Clown Cruz has to be one of the biggest 'wimp-asses' in America. He wishes to be THE LEADER of the free world as President of the United States and YET he does not want to face unfriendly questioning. He must be crapping us! I'm sure Putin and other adversarial world leaders are going to play footsies with Cruz or his other GOP hopefuls.

I find it amusing that the political party, which pontificates free market competition and deregulation wishes to reduce competitiveness and regulate the Presidential debates.

The 'Impact' Boys

Last week when my grandson and his friend visited from Wednesday evening until Saturday morning with the expressed purpose of leaf-raking; they filled 31 lawn bags with leaves and mulched that many bags for the garden. In the wake was two broken rakes. I understand how a wooden handle breaks but how do two metal prongs go missing from an all-metal rake?

Other revealing statistics from the two 16-year old lads' visit are as listed: Food and liquid consumption...two extra large pizza, two gallons milk, 11/2 loaves of bread, one box Fruit Loops, one box Cheerios, 21/2 gallons of orange juice, one gallon of tea, 13 sodas, 1/2 box crackers, eight large chili-pasta servings, 7 hot dogs, 4 hamburgers, 1/2 gallon ice cream, one apple pie, one cherry pie, two large bags-potato chips, undisclosed amount of cheese, 2lbs hamburger patties and 17 pancakes and a three roll sleeve of toilet tissue, which makes sense.

I overheard the following contemporary teen language-expressions: "I'm good." (37 X),
"For Sure!" (21 X), "What S'up?" (19 X), "When we gunna eat?" (15 X), "Hey Bro." (13 X).

My Toy Poodle, Yodie, although happy to see the boys each morning, appeared more neurotic each night.

Go Figure

Do you readers recall the public outrage three-plus years ago centering around the Jerry Sandusky child molestation case? I mean the crap hit the fan. This assistant Penn State football coach had been sexually abusing children. The discovery and subsequent fall out cost many people their jobs, caused the phony-holier-than-thou NCAA to go over the top penalizing a college institution. The NCAA powers stripped coaching victories and the personal dignity from legendary coach, Joe Paterno. The Penn State hierarchy knocked down the coach's campus statue and many vilified the Paterno family. The unmerciful attacks on Paterno likely hastened his death.

Okay now that I've rattled your memory, I ask this question: WHERE THE HELL IS THE PUBLIC OUTRAGE over former United States Speaker of The House, Dennis Hasteret? This creep was third in line to the Presidency and it is discovered he was a child molester who was paying bribe/hush monies to conceal his sick ass.

This sex pervert receives a six figure government retirement. He pleads guilty to breaking banking laws as the more serious crime against a high school student goes unpunished. A Hasteret guilty plea will likely permit our glorious court system to allow a pedophile to walk free. I understand all about the statuate of limitation. I'll bet Bill Cosby wishes he could make his nightmare of public opinion go away with a plea. Of course, that same court system will incarcerate a inner city black guy for selling drugs because that guy cannot 'buy' his freedom.

We Loved You Stephen Corey

We came from different East St. Louis neighborhoods. He was close in to the inner city while I lived in the Washington Park area. He attended Rock Junior High and Lansdowne Junior High was my middle school home. We first met on a junior high school basketball court. He was a quick, feisty little guard and I was the six foot gangling forward. His defense gave me fits; a classic example of spirited quickness negating the slower methodical shooter. I learned a lesson as that ninth grade basketball player from a kid who would become a dear high school friend and teammate. The lesson was 'low-blocking' the ball as every shooter brings 'the ball' up through the frontal mid-section before shooting.

His name was Stephen Corey Blackwell. Some close friends called him 'Welder Brain.'  I have no idea the origin of that nickname. Steve was academically smart and a very cerebral athlete, which compensated for his 5'7" 142 lbs. frame.

We were baseball and basketball teammates and very close social friends. The summer of 1954, Steve and I were hand picked by East St. Louis YMCA Director, Ray Sonnenberg to serve as camp counselor. Long after our 1957 East Side High graduation we reunited with those every five years class reunions. We telephoned each other through the years. Perhaps nearly a year ago, Steve was diagnosed with inoperable stomach cancer. Attempting to keep a non-intrusive contact, I would telephone Steve about every five to six weeks. His spirits were good...even uplifting and lighthearted. The inquiry, How you doing was met with his pat response, 'Well they still have me on the green side of the grass.'

I telephoned my friend two days ago and a recorded voice told me that the number had been disconnected. My wife and I knew. We knew but I nevertheless began my telephoning scrambling. I called several people but no luck...no information about Steve. I finally, located Steve's older brother in Ohio. Upon identifying myself, Ellis Blackwell confirmed the loss. My friend, Steve Blackwell died October 2, 2015. The beginning of the month. He was cremated.

I need not tell you...a part of me is gone.

Following Your Gut

While teaching for thirty-plus years, a school rule that irritated me was the automatic three and five days suspensions for predetermined violations. Those 'automatic' suspensions caused me to often take matters in my own hands. Let me be clear about  this. I did turn over 'fighting' issues to administrators because of possible physical injuries.

However, those nickel-dime missteps by students were another matter; improper physical education dress, cheating on a test, smoking on campus, etc. I suppose during my entire teaching career, I wrote a handful of student discipline referrals. My thinking was somewhat this way: If I had to write a referral, I was admitting that the matter facing me was beyond my passion and abilities to impact in a positive manner. The referral writing was a written confession of my own inabilities and failure.

I recall one year at Jacksonville high school when I noticed a young black male student shake down a freshman white kid for lunch money. I caught the youngster red handed. I had two choices: (1) write a referral and be done with it or (2) telephone the black boys parent thereby avoiding the automatic three day suspension when the kid would not be able to make up academic work (another half-ass rule). I chose to execute the latter.

Now telephoning the parent was a crap shoot. Will I get a parent who wishes to use the situation as a teaching moment and appreciate the suspension avoidance or will I get a sensitive black parent with a predisposed attitude about 'whitey.' That's correct, that shit does cut both ways if you have not noticed. Bottom line, I did what I thought was right for a kid. On the incident, the 'grandmother' of the youngster was at my office in a heart beat and was on that boy like stink on a skunk.

I saw that young man some 18 years later. He mentioned that incident to me and shared with me that he worked with the Department of Children and Family Services; A happily married father of three.

Hard to Figure

Can you possibly imagine the academic intellect and poised physical dexterity of a Dr. Ben Carson? This man is a surgical genius. However, when GOP presidential candidate, Carson opens his mouth, I scratch my head trying to decipher what the hell kind of a social compass guides this guy. He appears tethered to fantasy notions.

Listening to 'Physcian' Ben Carson, I can envision a terrific soft-spoken, kind and reassuring bedside manner. Listening to political-leader Ben Carson, I don't feel comforted. His soft spoken yet over-the-top presentation suggests he's overdosed on Clint Eastwood's, 'Dirty Harry,' movies.

He wishes people to believe that his calm and mild manner approach to a crazed gunman is the solution to reducing massacre fatalities. More recently, Carson explains that his low keyed persona represents a change from the young teenage, Ben who terrorized people with wielding hammers and baseball bats. He admits to once attempting to kill someone with a knife.

I'm just saying, the fella offers some strange and suspicious stories. Speaking of movies, if they re-make the movie, 'Psycho,' I'd vote for Ben Carson to play Anthony Perkins' character, Norman Bates..
...close your eyes and imagine it.

It Add Ups

Y'all remember former British PRime Minister, Tony Blair. Sure you do. He and GW were two peas in a pod after the Iraq Invasion.  They had more television time than CNN's Wolf Blitzer. They put me in mind of the Smothers Brothers and I don't need to tell you which one resembled 'Tommy.'

Recently, Blair has been answering questions about that war and stated, "There are elements of truth to the argument that the Iraq invasion gave rise to the terriorists group ISIS." However, those war hawks like Bush, Chaney and Blair believe that we general population folks cannot connect the dots. Blair admits the ISIS rise got a boost from the Iraq invasion but states he is not sorry Suddam Hussein is gone, Look goof-ass, that's WHY ISIS gained power. If Suddam was still the Middle East bad ass ISIS and Al Qaeda would not have the foothold they enjoy.

If one thinks for a moment that the United States removing Suddam Hussein from power did NOT cause greater destabilization of the Middle East then 'that one' is an imbecile.

Once Again...Bassackwards!

Is it my imagination or does television programming 'suck?' Okay, I must admit that I do not subscribe to the top cable viewing package but my 'package' is somewhere in the cost-factor-middle. Personally, I believe television cable/dish, whatever has become much like insurance coverage. If you don't pay attention you can end up 'television-viewing-poor.'

Surely, it's got to be stated somewhere in the United States Constitution that once a citizen purchases airway rights, to view entertainment programming, then another entity should not be permitted to come along and purchase 'paid television programming,' which is then offered as a 'viewing choice' at prime time on a major network. If not covered in our Constitution then it should be duly noted in history books, except those in Texas, that James Madison screwed up!

If a 2016, presidential candidate embraced a message to fix this T.V. Viewing issue, I'd vote for that person; even if it was a crazy boogieman party candidate. I cannot think of anything that aggravates me more than this paid program television unless it's that Heather chick that got my telephone number from that Rachael broad...How in the hell do those two know anything about 'my credit card' business?

I think television advertising should be treated like a highly desirable sporting event..either black it out or make it paid for TV watching.

Special Kid

It was the spring of 1977. I had recently signed my first of what would be 21 teaching/coaching contracts with Jacksonville School District 117. My wife and I were in a Realtors auto driving through South Jacksonville neighborhoods looking at potential home buys. We turned a corner onto Brenda Drive where I suddenly notice a tall lanky young boy in his driveway dunking a basketball. I blurted out to my newly made acquaintance, "Stop the car!" As I was opening the car door, my wife said, "We need to see some homes and stay on schedule." I said, "I'm sure there are many houses in this town but this kid is about 6'6" and I doubt there are many of him."

I approached the lad sticking my hand out, "Son, I'm the new JHS basketball coach, Mel Roustio, what's your name?" Greg Havlin was his answer as he confirmed 6'6" and made my day with the word 'sophomore.' We eventually bought a home in that neighborhood and our son, Steve and Greg would become the dearest of friends...like best friends.

Greg was a talented athlete. Outstanding basketball scorer, excellent high jumper and a dynamite soccer goalie with catlike reflexes. Greg was charming, likeable, high strung, sensitive, spontaneous, fun loving, impetuous, emotional and sometimes immature with choices. I saw in Greg and Steve two talented sophomores who could be cornerstones building a basketball program. Steve was a slick ball handling guard who could single handed negate a press defense and Greg was poison at the offensive end with slick scoring abilities.

After a sub par first year, I was looking for improvement the second year with Greg and Steve. Hope would go down the drain. Early season Greg had a melt down with one of our assistant coaches. He seemingly accepted his discipline but suddenly, He chose to quit the team. Three different attempts were made by three different coaches to keep Greg in the locker room that night and talk about his decision. He would have none of it. He left. My heart sunk. Greg was told that he would have to live with his decision. Later, Greg wanted a 'do-over.' We told him, "No." My heart sunk more.
Greg returned his senior season and led our squad to a winning season. He and his best Friend Steve would graduate and attend Parkland College where they played on a successful Juco team. Later both returned to Jacksonville (Greg playing at IC and Steve at MAC).
Many years later, Greg was a married father of two and a very successful businessman. He stopped by my house on one Jacksonville visit. Before he left that day, Greg hug me hard and with tears in his eyes he spoke these words, "Coach the choice to quit years ago was dumb but you putting your foot down not allowing me to come back that year was a lesson-changing moment...I love you and Gerry." I will always have a special place in my heart for that first Jacksonville player I ever met.

Forever My Boys

I think often about the young men who played on my basketball teams over my coaching career. That career touched seven high schools in thirty-nine years. Needless to say that my recall can search hundreds of names.

I recall a few years ago, I was approached by an Alton Telegraph sports writer who covered my Edwardsville teams in the 1970's. He asked me a question. It was a question that I normally choose to avoid answering. Who was the best shooter between Ricardo 'Dick' Brown, a Edwardsville guard who later played at Pepperdine or Andy Kaufmann, a Jacksonville forward who played for Illinois. One was a pure shooter the other was a pure scorer...they are different beasts. I have fewer of those questions as time passes. I suppose folks lose interest in older names as newer names become today's phenoms.

In my own quiet hours, I often enjoy building my own 'lists.' You know, among all my former players who were the top five shooters, who were the best defenders, who was the best ball handlers, etc. However, I take the list-exercise to another level. I will seek recall of players' names to complete lists such as: Most conscientious, most dedicated, toughest mentally, best leaders, best work ethics and the lists go on. This permits me to remember the names of many of my boys. When names pop into my mind, you can bet there is a plethora of stories that unfold.

There is one young man whose name comes to mind often. Greg Havlin. He shall always remain 'special' for some very unique reasons. I'll share those with you in my next blog.

Clip Cost; Comments Free

I got my hair cut yesterday. Every year, I am paying more money to have less hair trimmed. In 1951, I paid fifty cents for a flat top cut and perhaps thirty-five cents for a jar of 'Butch Wax,' which kept that 'stand-up' look. The 'Wax' lasted forever, the hair style did not. Today, my senior discount haircut cost puts the price $13.00, of course, the tip takes the amount to fifteen bucks.

The barber shop has always been an interesting conversation venue. Years ago, that shop was strictly a male gathering place except for that occasional 'first hair cut' when mother stood beside the chair attempting to reassure junior that the fella standing behind you with scary looking tools was NOT going to remove your ears. The all male joint sported magazine literature that you would not take home for mom to read and the jokes spewed would only be repeated to other male friends. Things changed at the barber shop 'salon.' Female groomers became common and suddenly the shops were purged of smut and the physical appearance improved.

There is still sports' talk and political opinions bantered about the flying hairs. I remember the cautionary note given by parents back-the-day, 'don't talk religion or politics in public.' Many people ignore that warning today. I still try to bite my tongue. Yesterday, a barbershop patron told anybody listening that if Hilary Clinton is elected President, she will be impeached the first month. He went on to explain that President Obama is the worst President in American history. Several, other patrons spoke agreeing comments. I said nothing.

As I prepared to depart, I wished all a good weekend. Walking to my automobile, I thought of a George Carlin comment: "Have you noticed that half the people you meet are f#*^ing stupid and the other half is full of shit?"

Okay, That's Cleared Up

In recent Facebook exchanges with former coaching colleagues and players, I have made some comments, which I wish not to be misconstrued. Let me clean up some opinions that I may have inadvertently suggested.

First, speaking in 'general' terms, I truly believe that today's athletes are better than those athletes of yesteryear. I believe this is due to the following reasons: Athletes come from healthier, stronger mothers and benefit from better prenatal care. Athletes, today enjoy the latest proven training regiments predicated on valued research and studies. Today's coaching knowledge and preparation is anchored in improved teaching methods.

Now that I am on the record with this opinion, let me also state and stand firm on another opinion: Many, if not most athletes, today have been handicapped by overzealous, helicoptering parents who have unfortunately instilled selfishness 'me-me' and entitlement attitudes. I witnessed this subtle change during a thirty-nine year coaching career. More than once, I wished some players ate dinner at my table rather than the one at their house.

 Consider this: I began coaching in 1962. Kids fought one another to pick up a charging foul to please the coach  help the team? The last year I coached was 2001. I told a player that he needed to cut off the baseline on defense and pick up a charge. He said, "My mom and dad told me not to pick up charging fouls because I could get hurt." Woe-is-me, I've stayed too long at the gym... Time to GO!

A Proud Family

In the 1940's, East St. Louis' many second generation immigrants from Europe lived in proximity to parents/grandparents mostly for language support but also for cultural preferences. I suppose that was understandable segregation. I still remember the East St. Louis areas known as French Village and the other ethnic neighborhoods, I.e. Germans, Italian, Polish, Greek, Blacks, etc.

The Roustios were not Italian descendants as many would believe. Imagine some teacher decided to change the spelling from Rousteau-to-Roustio. Many of the Roustio clan not only lived in the same area, hell they lived on the SAME street...56th Street in Washington Park, which was near Chemical Companies where they worked. The Roustios were fun-loving, game playing, beer drinking, competitive, feisty and oft-times fighting folks.

 I don't recall ever going to Grandpa and Grandma Roustio's house that their was not a card game, dominoes game or intricate picture-puzzle building going on; sometimes all three. Grandpa Frank never passed up a chance on teasing, sometimes pretty strongly. You had to be tough skinned around Frank. Grandma Rosedelle was a big strong women. Perhaps, 5'9 & 165 pounds and not a bit of fat. When I took my girlfriend (wife-Gerry) to meet Grandma Rosedelle (1955), she was carrying two 8" concrete blocks from the back of a pickup truck to a shed she was building.

My immediate family became a bit more colorful with our table-board-games as we abandoned card games and Dominoes for Shoots & Ladders, Parcheesi and Uno. Ah, but there was nothing more fun and more entertaining than a backyard game of Croquet. My father and his neighbor-buddies approached the match with strategy akin to the Normandy Invasion. Oh, they pretended that having their ball hit by another player's ball and then driven half way down the alley didn't bother them but their pouty body language told a much different story. Poor Sherrill believed everybody picked on him. As Archie sang, "Those were the days."

Room to Spare

Every house that I ever lived in had one...a 'catch all drawer.' That's the drawer, which seemed to be a handy place to 'put' stuff that we thought we'd put in its proper place later or there was actually no proper place for the 'stuff' therefore it joined an eclectic assortment of junk...OTHER stuff.

This collection-mentality expanded over time. Today, we not only have a 'catch all' drawer on the main floor of our house, we have a 'catch all drawer in the backyard shed. I am not sure when it happened but we created a corner in the basement utility room that is a designated 'catch all' corner.

A few years ago, we decided to sell our second automobile and thus become a one-car couple. This decision, of course created extra-garage space....you guessed; we have orchestrated a garage-catch all area where we used to have the other car.

I don't know about other couples but personally, I HAVE noticed the following about our fifty-five year marriage as it relates to our stuff: I think my wife could get rid of a lot of her 'junk', which would permit me more room for more important stuff; that would be my stuff.

"The whole meaning of life is about collecting stuff."
                                                                                     George Carlin (1986)

Hate Abounds

Someone help me out here. Have people 'always' been so mad? During my younger days, I was busy. From my mid thirties until coaching retirement the only folks I thought were pissed off were basketball parents and my urologist.

Today, everywhere I turn, I notice angry tension and often times physical confrontation and certainly war. Youth football parents in San Diego and other locations are fist-fighting in the stands and storming the field to physically confront coaches and officials. Youth seasons are cancelled.

Talk radio not only broadcast the angry callers' comments but the radio host feeds the fanaticism across the airways. Cable television is a 24-7 playground for political divisiveness and ugly accusations. Anybody with half a brain can certainly understand 'why' a condescending, judgmental and racist individual like Donald Trump leads GOP presidential polls because his attitude and rhetoric is a perfect mesh with many angry Americans.

The other day while traveling through the city, I noticed one car cut off another and both drivers jumped from vehicles to confront each other. I did not linger. I did not wish to observe what I believe was to go down. That night while watching the evening news, I heard that a local man was arrested in a case of road-rage and then I saw a clip of some fighting in the Middle East. In the midst of heavy artillery gun fire, I saw a young girl of perhaps mid-twenties using a 'sling-shot' as her weapon. A younger companion next to her was throwing rocks at a military style tank. How deep must be their anger to embrace those weaponry odds?

I'll stop for now. Toy Poodle, Yodie wishes to take a walk. I take my poop-scoop bags. Given the fact that everybody has guns, I don't wish to get shot due to a left-behind lawn turd.

Birthing Tales

Our first born, Steve was delivered at a medium size hospital, Christian Welfare in East St. Louis by a substitute Doctor. My wife worked for the Obstetrician who practiced the 'art' of hypnosis for baby deliveries. He was on vacation when my wife delivered our son. Nice timing, Doc! The thing memorable about that night, waiting for the birth was my brother, Tom getting off work at Henry's Hamburger and coming to the waiting room where we devoured 13-14 hamburgers at 2AM. Steve was a breech-birth. I once suggested to his mother that's why as a kid he was always doing things ass-backwards. She disagreed saying it was because we mixed Roustio-Bischof DNA.

Daughters, Dawn and Pamela were delivered by Doc Jack Means of Mason City. Mason City remains one of the best small town basketball 'hotbeds' in Illinois. The population is approximately 2500 folks and the only time towns folks are in a hurry is getting to the Friday night basketball games. Dawn was born in 1965. We were living and coaching in Mason City. Pamela was born in 1968. We were living and coaching in Washington, Illinois, some fifty mile from Doc Means but...I'll tell the rest of the story tomorrow.

"That which you do for the Least of My people..."

The number of Syrian refugees has surpassed the one million mark. These are families seeking a safe place. Mothers and fathers wishing to keep their children alive. Many European countries are absorbing these fleeing families. President Obama has suggested that the United States open their arms to 30,000 Syrian refugees while United States Senator, Dick Durbin believes the USA should up the invite to 100,000; I personally support the 100,000 number.

I have expressed that opinion to a few friends and they 'freak out.' Offering such opinions explains why I have 'few' friends. Of course, the reason most often advanced for NOT opening our arms is that these Syrian refugees are Muslims and my goodness, we know what Muslims are all about. On the other hand, we sure the hell know what Canadians are all about; they are ruthless and vicious people and don't tell me differently, I saw those Toronto  Blue Jays baseball fans  going nuts the other evening at a televised playoff game. Furthermore, it appears if you are an out-of-town baseball fan wearing your team's jersey when attending a Dodgers baseball game you may be nearly beaten to death. I can therefore conclude that all Los Angeles sports' fans are thugs... Send them packing with the Mexicans. If that GOP bunch ever agrees on anything perhaps they can put Trump in Obama's chair and we can build lots of walls.

I become weary listening to disingenuous Christian talk from so many Americans who just cannot put their words into action. Generally speaking,  I'm not sure which issue Americans lie about the most, their commitment to Christ's teachings or public education teaching.

A Story To Share

In the spring of 1977, I signed a coaching/teaching contract with Jacksonville School District 117. Among the numerous understandings, I was granted the opportunity to personally recommend three assistant coaches for employment. Ken Hickman, who was on my Edwardsville staff, came with me to Jacksonville. John Conklin had played for me in the mid1960's at Mason City, Illinois. John agreed to join the Crimsons staff as varsity assistant. The last spot was significant to and beyond the boys' basketball program. After conversations with District administrators it was agreed that our basketball program, school district and community would be well served through the hiring of a black coach-teacher.

My coaching reality nudged me to acquire a black coach on staff for the positive statement it made to the 110 black students mixed into a high school population of 1200 students. I needed that individual of character who served as the 'role model' while diffusing the perception within the black community that 'our kids' don't get a chance. I needed that individual to serve as a subliminal recruitment tool.

My choice had a history. While coaching at Edwardsville high school, I had the opportunity to observe the nearby SIUE basketball program. I recalled a young black player who impressed me with his approach and the gentlemanly manner demonstrated. Sam Holmes was my guy.

All of the assistant coaches on my staff during the twenty-one years that I was responsible for JHS basketball will undoubtedly tell you that they felt access and 'ownership' to our program. Oh, by the way, in a community of approximately 7% black, my Crimsons basketball teams were comprised of nearly 40% black players...our JHS basketball program made giant strides.

Just Looking For Support

One bit of consultant work I have done for the past 13-years is with the Decatur School District as coordinator of a Thanksgiving boys' basketball invitational tournament.  This tournament is one of Illinois' best prep basketball showcases. Over seventy Division I players have played in this tournament and consider the fact that last year's NBA Champions, Golden State 'Warriors' had two players, Andre' Iguodala and Shawn Livingston on its team, both of whom were former MVP athletes in this Decatur Tourney.

This 46-year running event is a costly proposition. Team guarantees approach $20,000.00, then tag on security, game management/officials, corporate perks, etc. and the total monetary amount needed to be raised is approximately $32,000.00. Nevertheless, we realize a profit each year.

It would be easier if it was permissible to accept beer-distributors' sponsorship-donations, however that is a public school no-no. That said, the school's accept ads from other grocery store-outlets,  which sell beer and liquor. I believe a partnership could be formed especially with educational-targeted messages for the high school age student. Beer distributors and school districts could form an alliance to drive one profound educational effort regarding legality issues, drinking and driving and general risks. That plea falls on deaf ears.

Of course, our society will televise the post-game MLB playoff celebrations showing abusive alcohol behavior; even a player's young son pouring campaign into the mouth of his father. We Americans  talk out of both sides of our mouth!

'The Cardinal Way'

Okay, Cardinals Nation. You folks are so quick to buy into St. Louis ownership's annual summer Kool Aid drinking ritual...put this in your memory bank for a 2016 reference. The Cardinals will not re-sign Jason Heyward. The company line will be...Piscotty at first base, Pham in centerfield, Holiday in left field and Grichuk in right field. Fourth outfielder will be Jay.

We are committed to Holiday's contract. The others (Piscotty, Grichuk, Pham and Jay) are the cheapest way to go.  Never mind that Heyward and Carpenter are your two best hitters. Never mind that Heyward is among the top four defensive outfielders in all of baseball. Never mind that Heyward is your best base runner. And for good measure, never mind that Heyward has one of the best batting averages against the best pitcher in the National League Central Division...that pitcher is Jake Arrieta.

Mark it on your calendar...first day of spring training no Jason Heyward wearing the Birds on the Bat.

Special Angels

Yesterday afternoon, I was sitting on the backyard swing pondering the ways of the world when I thought about the concept of Heavenly Guadian Angels.  Many people embrace the notion of having those Heavenly Angels looking over them.

I hear many people claim that their greatest mission on earth is parenting their children. I hear folks offer children as their greatest blessings. The thought occurred to me that childless folks may appear to be left out of this great parenting blessing. Ah, but that's not the case at all. They are often those 'earthly' guardian angels. Whereas they did not have children of their own they often find themselves at the smorgasbord table of endless possibilities to nurture several nieces and nephews.
My own journey found aunts and uncles with boundless energies to assist in that abstract idea of a village raising a child. These childless Aunts and Uncles stood alongside grandparents supporting the parents in nurturing the children.

My paternal Aunt Verla and Uncle Paul along with maternal Aunt Kate and Uncle Bud were more than cheer leaders for my brothers and me. They were hands on and significant 'parts' of family gatherings, celebrations and mentoring moments. Yep, they were guardian angels, which shaped my earthly journey.

When I left the swing late yesterday, I realized that summer is drawing to a close. This means less swing time. Consequently, my thoughts will be less profound. The furnace heat tends to dull my mind.

OMG

My youngest daughter telephoned to direct my attention to an editorial in her local newspaper, which she thought I'd enjoy. After the read, I can state that I did enjoy and I was enlightened.

 I did not know there are 'playground counsultants' and 'recess consultants.' When I was attending Charles L. Manners' Grade School (1947) in East St. Louis, we never had recess or playground consultants. As I recall, Eddie Gigilotto was playground/recess boss. Eddie was the toughest kid in the entire school therefore Eddie made ALL all recess/playground rules & decisions. Things went smoothly.

Today's recess/playground consultants are making changes in the informal and formal youth sports' play culture. Consider the following changes: Many youth sports' programs give trophies for just participating. Some leagues do not keep game scores thus there are no declared winners or losers. These consultants have put an end to the dodge-ball activity because it's very design is intentionally hitting players with a thrown ball, a form of bullying. Football participation seems to be on the decline due to the escalated fears of concussions, something that evidently did not happen back in the day when players wore leather helmets.

The latest push by recess consultants is to do away with playground 'tag.' It appears that causing some youngster to be 'IT' potentially damages the youngsters psyche. Oh, look for next summer's youth baseball leagues to do away with calling a player 'OUT.' When a player fails to reach base safely it is best to say, "Nice try."

When I was attending public schools, I would have loved a 'grade-evaluation consultant' who would insist that all us kids should receive 'A' grades in all subjects. That's what American families really need to insulate our precious little ones from psychological hurt.

Presidential Material ?

I would not wish to compare my academic past to that of Dr. Ben Carson's. Comparing a basketball coach to a neurosurgeon is like comparing Tiny Tim's voice to that of Andea Bocelli. That said, the more I hear GOP Presidential candidate Carson speak off the cuff the more I think he is best suited in a surgical mask (muffling his comments) and letting his skilled hands do the talking.

Let's cut Right to the case ! If anyone began listing high-priority issues facing our nation the list would look something like this in no particular order: terrorists, economy (jobs), health care, education, race relations, environment and military strength.

Recently, Carson said and I paraphrase, 'When I'm asked why I don't talk about race it's because I'm a neurosurgeon.' The tell me Boastful Ben: Why would you then talk about the economy, jobs and poverty since you are obviously wealthy? Your frayed common sense is showing. However, you did show honesty when you shared the personal experience when a hold up man pointed a gun at you and you explained to the potential killer that it was the young fella behind the cash register he needed to point the weapon towards.

 And you have balls to suggest what those Oregon community college shooting victims should have done facing a gunman...Shame on you!

Wish I Was A Cubs' Fan

My 18 year old Chicago-Northwest Suburb grandson text me after the Cubs' playoff win over the Pirates last night. Through his typed words you could hear and feel his enthusiastic jubilation. As millions of others across this nation he is a Chicago Cubs' die-hard fan. Their long wait to bathe in World Series' waters suddenly seems truly possible with a young and talented team.

One of his text messages to his Cardinals-rooting grandfather read: "I've been waiting for this for eighteen years." God bless him, that is his lifetime. However, I had to tell him that considering no World Series winner for Cubbies fans since 1908, that meant some fans died waiting.

Upon completion of our text exchanges, I lay in bed thinking about the scenario of the upcoming five game playoff series between my grandson's Cubs and my Redbirds. It occurs to me that at the moment it is more fun being a Cub fan than a Cardinals fan. Let me explain. Keep in mind the old saying: "Life is a journey not a destination."

This 76 year old Cardinals fan is somewhat conditioned to his team winning...getting in the playoffs...advancing deep in the playoffs and yes...winning the BIG prize. With that experience, I have unintentionally developed high personal standards of fan expectations. You see, I won't be happy unless my team is 'in' the World Series. That's when I will feel the joy that my grandson is feeling for his Cubs. This attitude is unfair to Cardinals' players and myself and really, not much fun.

The ride is always better than the arrival. Success is living in a truly joyful state and that 'living' is in the journey. One cannot argue the fact: It's a good time to travel in Cubbies' 'Blue.'