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.'

If It's Ours Then Own It

We all recall when Obama was elected President how Republican minority leader, Mitch McConnell openly stated that his party would do everything possible to make sure Obama was a one term President. Personally, I believe the Republicans did all they could possibly do to reach that objective.

Aside from voting against Obama at very turn, their Fox News pundits were relentless nitpicking on matters of birth place, Muslim ties, Christian beliefs and Obama's perceived attitude of apologizing for America. There is no one who presents himself with a more arrogant, pseudo patriotic posturing than Sean Hannity. He would make a mountain out of the molehill to suggest Obama is weak in this area of protecting America. Of course, the Republican Party leaders appear to be indifferent to others' pain and suffering as evident in the statements from GOP Presidential candidates, Trump and Bush who dismissed the recent Oregon massacre as 'stuff happens.'

Well boys, America owes many American families and Iraq families an apology. And while we are apologizing to those folks for causing so many deaths over 'nothing' we need to apologize to the Afghan families whose love ones we killed by a mistaken bombing this week when a hospital was destroyed by United States Air Force. Stuff, indeed, may happen, however when it's bad stuff caused by a mistake in judgment, we owe the victims an apology.

Apology is not a sign of weakness...it is a sign of compassion and Christian love as taught by Jesus...but that's another thing Fox and Friends toss about with phony bogus rhetoric.

Two Clubs Playing the Best Ball

Okay, I have been a St. Louis Cardinals' die hard fan since I can recall and that means since 1946, when St. Louis defeated the Boston Red Sox for the World Series Crown. That was the series when Cardinals' Outfielder Enos Slaughter made his run-scoring mad dash from first base on a left field single by Harry Walker in the eighth inning of game number seven.

 I was in old sportsman Park in 1954 when Stan Musial hit Five home runs against the New York Giants. I was in that same park (1963) when Musial played his last game and got two hits off 'Reds' pitcher Jim Maloney. I was in attendance one year later when Bob Gibson won World Series game number seven against The Yankees.

I don't claim that St. Louis has the best baseball fans in the major leagues but they rank near the top as knowledgeable and appreciative baseball people. This year, I admire what the Cardinals team has accomplished against incredible injury circumstances. That said...I would like to predict the Kansas City Royals versus the St. Louis Cardinals in the 2015 World Series with the 'Birds' winning...but my better judgment urges me to state this: I pick the Toronto Bluejays versus the Chicago Cubs and the Jays taking home the trophy.

Step out there and make your call...

Kid Needs Street Smarts

The twenty-eight houses on our street perhaps yields only seven or eight children under the age of twelve. One particular lad, Charlie is approximately eight years old. He is the spitting image of the television character, Dennis 'The Menace.' He behaves like Dennis. Example: One day this summer,  I was cutting the front lawn. Charlie came running towards me frantically waving his hands. Naturally, I turned off the power-mower to listen to his comments. He smile and spoke, "What are you doing Mr. Roustio?" I said, "Charlie, you should not do that; run at someone waving your hands. I thought something bad happened at your house. You can see what I'm doing, I'm cutting the grass."

Actually, Charlie will ask the question, 'What are you doing no matter how obvious your activity. One day, I was preparing to spray for insects around the outside of the foundation. After I explained to Charlie the 'what & why,' I saw two caterpillars on the ground and picked them up placing them in a small coffee can. When Charlie asked what I was going to do with the caterpillars, I don't know what motivated my explanation but it just came out. I said, "Charlie, I eat caterpillars at night and the next morning I fart a butterfly." Complete silence. You guessed it, his mother was upset with me...seems Charlie ate about four or five fuzzy-crawlers and 'messed' his pajamas trying to let a fart.

The boy is 'home-schooled.' If he attended Decatur Public Schools, Charlie would quickly develop some street smarts. Any fourth grade city school kid knows that you capture caterpillars during recess and put them down the blouse of the girl sitting in front you you.

I Like Boathouse Weddings

Boathouse weddings are 'cool.' The first boathouse wedding I ever attended was my own. It was held at Grand Marais State Park (now called Frank Holten Park) in East St. Louis. Yep, June 11, 1960 was our special day some fifty-five years ago.

We chose to get married at the Grand Marais Boathouse for religious reasons. Okay, let me break this down in simple language. My wife and I were raised in different religious faiths...one Roman Catholic and one Methodist. I'm not going to explain, in detail, what kinda 'stuff' hits the fan and the drama-hysteria that occurred back-in-the-day when a Catholic and a Protestant married. Suffice to say, many folks acted extremely un-Christian...much like today...that part remains the same.

My wife and I began our boy-girl relationship we she was 13 and I but 14. We dated seven years. Do you think possibly the two of us just may have discussed religion at some point? Did not make any difference to some folks because their tolerant-needle was locked in ONE position...'self-important!' Therefore to appease those religious zealots, we elected a 'neural court' for our ceremony; The Boathouse. Most of our families and friends celebrated with us... a few boycotted.

This past Saturday, my wife and I attended our second Boathouse Wedding at a lovely South St. Louis park. The outdoor ceremonial-staging was terrific. A most beautiful setting. My wife and I were delighted to be in supportive-attendance.  I hope the newly weds enjoy the many years we have enjoyed. There was a large crowd; I hope no one boycotted the ceremony due to the fact the couple are both females.
When it comes to true love and tolerance: "C'est la vie Say The Old Folks, You surely never can tell."

Dumb & Dumber

GOP Presidential Candidate, Jeb Bush dismissed the call for greater gun controls on the heels of the Oregon community college killings by simply saying, "Stuff happens." OMG! Nine people who enrolled in higher education programs attempting to better their position in pursuit of dreams are senselessly murdered. Someone's husband, son, daughter, sister, brother father or mother will not embrace love ones this Holiday Season...the heartache is incomprehensible! And yet, an individual wishing to be our next President reduces the drastic impact of this tragedy by categorizing it as "Stuff" happening.

As the television went to a commercial, my wife entered the family room and I profiled what I had just heard; our conversation went like this:

Mel: Jeb Bush just said the killing massacre at that Oregon community college does not merit greater gun control because 'stuff' happens.

Gerry: You know, I have heard several statements from Jeb Bush causing me to believe that he's not too bright.

Mel:  I thought his brother George was pretty dumb but I think Jeb may be dumber.

Gerry:  Okay now, Let's not go THAT far!

Fundamentalism Scares Me

A few weeks ago, I saw a television debate between religious folks who said they were fundamentalists. What I can determine, religious fundamentalists embrace a literal interpretation of their respective 'holy book' scriptures. The debate was between a Jew, Christian, Muslim and Atheist. Although the Atheist did not claim fundamentalist status, it's reasonable to place him in that camp.

After listening to an hour of the poppycock jibber-jabber, I concluded one thing; none of them were very good listeners and each  appeared short on tolerance. I believe they 'hear' only their own words. Therein lies a worldwide problem. My neighbor recently told me that he has read extensively about the Muslim faith and said, "Those people believe some crazy-ass stuff." I don't know anything about the Muslim Qur'an. I personally consider myself a born-again Christian who follows the Methodist doctrine, however I am not a Methodist/Christian fundamentalist! Deuteronomy 22: 23-24, scares the crap out of me.

Actually, when it comes to religious beliefs, I really don't care what others believe or what day of the week they attend worship service. All religious sects should agree to keep our religious opinions to ourselves unless someone is so impressed with our loving kindness they ask, "Where do you go to church because I'd like to 'get some of THAT?'

You're welcome to visit here in Decatur. We'll sit a spell on the backyard swing while the weather is still good. Just stay off the front yard grass, okay?

'No-Fault' Mentality

Interview question: What's the best side of sport and what's the worst?

Answer:  I believe the purest form of sport is found in childrens' play when no adults are nearby. The ugly side of sports occurs when fans and parents identify with a team.

I recall several years ago, I was attending a granddaughter's high school Cheerleading State Finals. Considering the competition began with nearly eight hundred teams, I would believe the remaining twenty-five finalists were happy to reach that plateau. Of course, my novice eyes thought my granddaughter's team completed a flawless routine. The scoring of cheer competition is subjective much like gymnastics, dance and ice skating. Well, word circulated that 'our team' did not make it to the trophy round due to a 'head-dip' by one of three girls involved in basket catches from mounts. Too bad but hey, as the say, 's*#t happens.' I've seen fumbles on the one-yard line, missed free throws and bases loaded strike outs.

But HOLD THE PHONE ! A group of parents were gathering in the galleria with cell phone videos of the routine performance. These parents were determined to identify the squad member who was at fault...they must know which youngster cost the squad advancement to the final trophy round. It appeared these parents needed to exonerate their kid for the the purpose of affixing blame.

As I walked from the event venue, I thought maybe school districts should consider accommodating needs of the sports' fans. Perhaps after activities, we could have all players and coaches return to the center of the arena for post-game public humiliation. Fans could scream admonishments at various participants therefore getting full measure for their $4.00 admission fee.
History books remind us that Rome did something similar and folks really got into it.