Today's thoughts

Category: OLD SPORT SHORTS (Page 67 of 68)

An old guy’s perspective on all sports

Old Sport Shorts: Green with Envy #43

It’s spring and time to hit the links for many of us.  I’m not much of a golf nut but do enjoy watching The Masters.  It looks so beautiful and peaceful out there, surrounded by manicured grass and fresh air.  I think I would agree with John Feinstein and his book title, “A Good Walk Spoiled,” in describing my affinity for the game.  I don’t have the patience, attention span, skills, or a wild enough pair of slacks to include it on my list of retirement must-dos.  Yes, now I have the time to learn the game, but I’ve never enjoyed playing.  This dates back to those summer days of high school and my Dad’s Country Club Membership.  It was a work perk that he was never really able to capitalize on, having a minimum monthly spend to maintain the membership he couldn’t use.

My Dad was left-handed so teaching me any sport was difficult.  Plus, he wasn’t a very good athlete and certainly no Phil Mickelson, so I’m glad he didn’t try.  He did feel it was a good idea for me to spend my summers at the Club, thinking somebody could get some use out of it.  It was too far from the office for business lunches and didn’t fit his workaholic schedule.  My Mom would drop me off in the morning and I would play 18 holes before and after lunch, then hit the swimming pool.  A tough day’s “work” while all my friends had summer jobs.  It was a privileged life that went against the grain of my conservative parents.  I eventually began to feel the same.

It’s in that category of sports for Kings, like horse racing and polo.  The whole Club scene in the Mid-Sixties catered to men while the women and children belonged by the pool.  There were some women leagues, but the cigar-smokin’, round-ball- strokin’ businessmen ruled the course. I was typically matched with other “rich” kids that were “really rich.”  I didn’t have the clothes and equipment to match their swagger or the talent to swing the club.  As a result, I felt inferior and uncomfortable.  I know it’s hard to feel sorry for me!  My dad promised that if I broke 100, he would buy me new clubs, but even with better equipment it was rare if I broke 90.  I took lessons and practiced, but still could not effectively compete in my mind.  I didn’t realize until later in life that the kids I was playing with would go on to be Club Champions, scratch golfers, and even join the Tour.  I eventually lost patience and quit playing but was probably a little better than I thought at the time.

As a spectator and sports fan, I also also have issues with the game of golf.  I tend to shy away from sports where the announcers whisper and the gallery demands quiet.  Like tennis, it has a certain air of pompousness that adds a heaviness to its enjoyment.  I prefer the obnoxious fans of football and basketball, where their distractive or supportive behavior becomes a factor in the game.   Golf is apparently a much more sophisticated game that demands more respect.  “You da’ man,” is also a chant we can do without, but as wild of a fan outburst as it gets.  I’m actually surprised that the fans are allowed to get so close and worry sometimes that an errant shot might catch a spectator.  I’m sure they would quickly learn not be anywhere near to watch me swing a driver!

As I got more involved in the business world, I began to realize that golf was a great client development tool.  I bought a set of used clubs and participated in a couple of scrambles, hoping to rekindle any interest in the game I might have once had.  A new Mr. Steak restaurant opened in town, and I was getting to know the manager who was in the process of relocating his family.  We talked about some advertising and eventually developed a friendship.  We wanted to play golf together, but his clubs were back in Denver along with the restaurant headquarters where he had worked prior.  I let him borrow my clubs and a few days later he wanted to buy them, saying he really liked their feel.  Since he was by then a Bonafide client, I agreed to an arrangement where he would pay me some cash, but more importantly provide unlimited beef and beer. Mr. Steak had refrigerated trucks coming in every Friday afternoon from Colorado, loaded with frozen steaks and contraband Coors.  At that time, Coors was not available in our area, and a highly coveted commodity by my circle of friends.  I remember what a rare “treat” it was back then and would probably make me more friends than golf ever could.   Every Friday afternoon for the next couple of weeks, I would stop by on my way home and collect an advertising schedule, a half-dozen steaks, and a case of cold Coors.  I’m not sure life was any better – business, beer, and beef with one-stop shopping!

More and more friends would casually drop by the house all weekend, as word spread, hoping to take advantage of my good fortune.  I would fire up the grill and act like the king I never was in golf.  A month later, I made my weekly stop at the restaurant only to find it shuttered.  I would never see the manager or my clubs ever since.  It was also the end of my golfing career with the exception of a handful of company-paid scrambles.  I specifically emphasize the words “company-paid,” since in my opinion there’s only one thing worse than playing golf and that’s paying to play golf.  In one of those outings, they had hidden stuffed animal “prizes” in the wooded areas, and I think I found all of them.  Since the Coors deal fell through, I have proudly saved thousands on green fees, cart rental, betting, memberships, and equipment; it’s unlikely that the “scrooge” in me will change in retirement, even with the senior citizen discounts.  I will admit, however, that I do envy those who can master the greens, and I do still love Coors beer.

Retirement is not without Hassles: L.A. Adventure #41

Mike’s retirement adventures led to L.A., taking advantage of my wife’s business trip that included a company-paid  hotel room.  The evening before, I joined the “Tre Amigos” for an Oregon State victory over Portland University, preserving OSU’s #1 ranking in the college polls.  Wednesday morning, a flight to LA, and a Metro Pass tour of the city, stopping at the Staples Center and sipping a couple Tito’s martinis at L.A.’s Union Station.  XXX – eXtra dirty, eXtra dry, eXtra olives- my trademark drink, perfected in Austin, Texas where I met Tito of Tito’s Vodka fame.

I did have a Waldorf Salad (Am I in NY?) and Diet Coke to get both something healthy and effervescent  in my stomach. Diet Coke and martini’s are a strange combination, but I need the caffeine to offset the sedative effects of alcohol.  Who am I kidding? – I need the caffeine to keep me from taking a nap any afternoon.  The prior night, I enjoyed a Widmer Crystal Gayle beer to tolerate the rainy conditions and  get me in a baseball mood.  “I feel the almost certain need for a beer and hot dog at Dodger Stadium tonight when they host the Padres.”

Here are some other random excerpts that I jotted down, waiting for the shuttle to the stadium:

“As I sat at the Union Station Traxx bar,  I observed the other patrons partaking of a late afternoon drink.  Many aren’t old enough to be retired like me, just taking a break from a frustrating Wednesday or perhaps contemplating a work victory or set-back by checking out early.”

“I won’t say that the day was without hassles. Navigating an unfamiliar city is stressful.  I did some planning but had some reservations on finding my way.  I am definitely direction-ally challenged, so the potential of getting lost was a constant concern.  As it turned out, the Metro is definitely affordable and relatively easy to negotiate.  I even found this shuttle from Union Station to Dodger Stadium, but could not find the L.A. Coliseum and some other sports landmarks that were in the area.  I will join my wife on several other visits to the city going forward, as I learn from my mistakes.”

“I’m not a Dodgers fan, having adopted the Chicago White Sox as my first baseball love.  The Sox lost to the Dodgers in the 1959 World Series.  I was only 8 years old, but it was my first exposure to the game on television.  Sherman Lollar, White Sox catcher, has always been my hero.  I wrote a tribute to him two months ago in in this blog titled, “Who Was that Masked Man?”

“A friend of mine was legendary Dodger Manager, Walter Alston’s nephew.  He got us great seats at Wrigley Field when the Dodgers played the Cubs.  I got to meet him after the game along with several Dodger players.  Also, a friend of mine’s father was Karl Spooner, who was a pitcher with the 1955 World Champion Brooklyn Dodgers.  With these connections in mind, I will enjoy seeing the stadium and watching at least half of the game before finding my way to my wife’s hotel room in Beverly Hills”

As it turned out, I called Uber after the sixth inning and made my way out of the stadium.  It was an eventful evening, the highlight was shaking hands with Tommy Lasorda.  Lasorda actually replaced Walter Alston in 1976 as the Dodgers skipper.  Between the two they won all six of the Dodger World Series Championships; The last was in 1988.  Lasorda also guided the 2000 U.S.A. baseball team to an Olympic Gold Medal in Sydney, Australia.  He was in a wheelchair in the suite area of the stadium, so that’s when I took the opportunity to speak with him.  He’s 89 years old, seemed frail, but still had a spark in his eye.  It’s difficult to see some of your childhood heroes in that state of life.

All these Dodger connections of mine were on that 1955 Dodger Championship team.  Alston was the manager and both Spooner and Lasorda were pitchers.  Alston died in 1984 at age 73, just a year after he was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame.  Spooner died the same year at age 52.  There were many pictures of each of them in the museum area of the stadium, as well as a picture of #10 Sherm Lollar, catching against the Dodgers in one of the only World Series games played at the L.A. Coliseum in 1959.  Walter Alston was the Dodgers manager for that World Series victory, as well.   Baseball memories are some of my most treasured.

It was Fernando Valenzuela jersey night at Dodger Stadium so I walked away with some good experiences and a #34 jersey honoring the Dodger pitcher.  He helped Lasorda’s Dodgers win the 1988 World Series, despite not playing in the post-season due to a shoulder injury.  In 1990 he pitched his only no-hitter.  His granddaughter threw out the ceremonial opening pitch.

The next day I did my morning run through Beverly Hills and toured the city on a Hop-On-Hop-Off bus.  I saw most of the major sights and had lunch at In N’ Out Burger (this was an absolute must on my list of things to see and do).  On the Uber ride back to the airport, I finally spotted the L.A. Coliseum.  The Olympic torch over the entrance was burning, so I tried on-line to identify the reason why?  It was recently lit for the 50th Anniversary of the J.F.K. assassination, to salute the L.A. Olympic Committee’s recent bid for the 2024 Olympics, and the opening game for the new L.A. Rams.  I could not find an explanation for its glowing presence on my way out of town – maybe just a way to say Good-Bye?

Retirement is not without Hassles: What day is it? #38

I spent Sunday writing posts about sports under my “Old Sport Shorts” moniker.  I try to maintain balance between retirement issues and my love of sports, but many hours of watching games at Buffalo Wild Wings this weekend threw off that balance.  I was not even sure what day it was, as Friday transitioned seamlessly into Saturday,  with me sitting at the same table, although with different company each day. I got  a little shot of college life with a former co-worker and his son on Friday and some time with my fellow retirees on Saturday.  I ended the weekend mostly alone writing, watching the women’s NCAA championship, Cubs vs. Cards opening night baseball, and Portland Timbers  soccer. As a result of my sports weekend, I missed out on the new “Beauty and the Beast” movie and shopping.  I did spend some time with my wife and the dogs each morning, but essentially it was a weekend with the boys.

I can’t say it was a fruitful sports weekend since all my teams lost. but I did enjoy the pretzels, beer, and companionship.  If I were going to work this morning, there would be plenty to talk about around the “water cooler,”   Instead, I’m sitting here watching the movie “Passengers” that my wife rented over the weekend to occupy some of her loneliness while I was in “Sports World.

This Monday morning is about as busy as it’s been in retirement.  I have to take my wife’s car to the Oregon DMV for license plate renewal tests, drop some paperwork off at the doctor’s office, visit the chiropractor for an adjustment, and take the dogs to the vet.  I also have a meeting with an illustrator about collaborating on a a children’s book. That’s five things in one day!  One thing is usually my limit.  I also have a honey-do list of ordering tickets, upholstery, and plantation shutters.  I was able to get the knives sharpened over the weekend, utilizing a mobile service that came to our home.  I am a bit “in the doghouse,” agreeing to going to a college baseball game on Tuesday night instead of cooking.  My wife had already bought all the ingredients, and seemed a bit disappointed in my choice of ball park over kitchen.  After all, I’m planning on also being at Dodger Stadium on Wednesday night for a game against the Padres.  She will be stuck with two days of business meetings while I play.  I’m not putting any points in the Love Bank, just withdrawals.

I do like the fact that I’m keeping busy, active and hassle-free.   My wife has also mentioned how much happier I seem to be in retirement.  I think it’s just relative, since I was miserable my last five years of work.  I’ve finally arrived at the stage of life that allows me to basically do what I want.  However, I still remain cautious about upsetting the working wife by giving the impression that I’m not contributing to the household in the process.  I didn’t write down a couple of her repair “recommendations” on Friday, and was reminded of my lack of productivity.  She probably isn’t aware of how productive I’ve been on writing.

Here’s a little poem to get you off to a thoughtful start this week:

Time

The older we get,
The faster time goes by.
We can’t slow things down,
No matter how we try.
.
The clock keeps on ticking,
You can’t make it stop.
The countdown of life,
Continues to drop.
.
We can spring forward,
Or even fall back.
Leap an extra day,
And be on a fast track.
.
Time can fly by,
Or wait seemingly forever.
So until it’s over,
Never say never.
.
You can have no time,
Or plenty it seems.
But whatever you do,
Make time for dreams.
.
We can take our time,
Even have it on our side.
Avoid running out of it,
Or those dreams have died.
.
You can start a timer,
Manage a time table.
But it can’t be bottled,
With a time sensitive label.
.
You can believe in Time Travel,
Or the way-back machine.
You just can’t go back,
To being a teen.

.

You can’t buy it, steal it,
Or save it for later.
For extra time together,
No gift is greater.

.

We can waste time,
Even try to kill it.
And watch it pass by,
But – still – it will never sit.
.
You can carry a time piece,
Glance at your wrist.
But any time wasted,
Is also time missed.
.

Copyright 2010 johnstonwrites.com

 

Old Sport Shorts: Once a Blazer, Always a Blazer #37

When I was in high school back in Elkhart, Indiana, our unique team mascot was the Blue Blazer, a funny looking character with flaming hair and a corkscrew nose, dressed in blue and riding on a lightening bolt.  I’ve never seen another mascot like it, and only know of a few teams identified with any variation of the Blazer nickname.   A friend of mine dressed for each game in blue and wore a paper mache’ helmet with the long yellow, twisted nose.  He was “Mister B,” one of the first male cheerleaders that I ever knew.

I’ve always been intrigued with team nicknames, and knew the moniker of most schools across the state.  One of my favorites was the Frankfort Hot Dogs, but my own grade school also had a very unique name, the Rice Krispies.  I’m sure Kellogg’s was not impressed, but I don’t recall a lawsuit over copyright infringement.  Rice University in Texas are the Owls – “wise” not to have taken the name of a company with lots of lawyers.  Along the lines of the lines of the Rice Krispies, for those with an appetite here in Oregon we have the Tillamook Cheesemakers.

Come to think of it, I’ve only gone to schools with unique nicknames.  I first went to college at Albion and became a Briton, and then graduated from Indiana University as a Hoosier.  Their are no other schools with those names, although either really made any sense.  A “Briton” is a native or inhabitant of Great Briton, and Albion was in Michigan.  A “Hoosier” was supposedly popularized by an 1833 poem from John Finley called “The Hoosier’s Nest.”  Even as a fellow poet, I was not impressed.

I think it was fate that led me to Portland, Oregon to be a fan of the NBA Trail Blazers.  The Trail Blazers nick-name was apparently the result of a contest back in 1970, established just after my graduation as a Blue Blazer.   I’m not sure the story of the Blue Blazer name, but I know we didn’t the history of Lewis and Clark, the original trailblazers, to provide a creative source of inspiration.  I find it remarkable that 172 people submitted the name “Trail Blazers” as part of the contest, so there’s no way to provide proper individual credit.  At the time, there were supposedly no other major Professional or University sports teams using either Blazers or Trail Blazers.  I’m sure that was thoroughly checked out by the team attorneys before the name was officially  adopted.  Obviously, they were not familiar with the Elkhart Blue Blazers.  it just goes to show how innovative that nickname has become.

The University of Alabama-Birmingham was founded in 1969, but didn’t start their intercollegiate athletic program until 1978.  They too named their sports teams the Blazers.  I then quickly skimmed the list of college team nicknames and found the Saint Benedict’s College (Minnesota) Blazers, Valdosta State Blazers, and Vincennes University Trailblazers.  I noted that Vincennes, founded in 1801, named their teams after the inspiration of George Rogers Clark who resided in Indiana after his military career.  Maybe the Elkhart Blue Blazers stole the idea from them and the Portland Trailblazers didn’t do as thorough of search as they thought?  After all, George Rogers Clark’s younger brother was the William Clark (Lewis & Clark Expedition 1804-1806), the original Portland Trailblazer.

As I examined a Wikipedia list of college nicknames more extensively, I had to laugh at Chicago’s Shimer College Flaming Smelts.  Founded in 1853, it has fewer than 150 students and no more than 12 students per class, according to their website.   I found no reference to a sports team, just a colorful illustration of a Lake Michigan smelt flying out of an explosion with its black top-hat on fire.   I couldn’t help but think of the Blue Blazer’s hair on fire.  I also stumbled across another unusual nickname, the Presbyterian College Blue Hose.  I suppose it’s no different than calling the Chicago White Sox the “Pale Hose.”  I’m of course being silly here but I couldn’t help but think of “Mister B” in his silly head gear and blue tights.  I also noted that of all the college team nicknames, only a relative few didn’t end in a plural “s” like the Blue Hose.  Just for fun, I’ve listed the others below and highlighted what I consider to be the major programs:

ASA College (Miami) Silver Storm

Bethany College Bison

Bucknell University Bison

Cankdeska Cikana Community College C4

Central College (Iowa) Dutch

Cornell University Big Red

Cumberland University Phoenix

Dartmouth College Big Green

Delta State University Statesmen and Lady Statesmen

Denison University Big Red

Elon University Phoenix

Greensboro College Pride

Harding University Bison

Harvard University Crimson

Hobart College Statesmen

Hofstra University Pride

Hope College Flying Dutchmen

Howard University Bison

Illinois Fighting Illini

Lake Erie College Storm

Lebanon Valley College Flying Dutchmen

Lesley University Lynx

Loyola University of New Orleans Wolfpack

Luther College Norse

Marshall University Thundering Herd

Massachusetts Minutemen

McDaniel College Green Terror

Navy Midshipmen

Nevada Wolf Pack

North Carolina State University Wolfpack

North Dakota State University Bison

North Texas Mean Green

Northern Kentucky University Norse

Notre Dame Fighting Irish

Oak Hills Christian College Wolfpack

Oberlin College Yeomen

Palm Beach Atlantic Sailfish

Presbyterian College Blue Hose

Rhodes College Lynx

Saint Francis University Red Flash

Saint John’s University Red Storm

Simpson College Storm

Slippery Rock University The Rock

Southeastern Oklahoma State University Savage Storm

Southeastern University Fire

Southern California Women of Troy (Trojans – men)

Southern Nazarene University Crimson Storm

Southern New Hampshire Penmen

Springfield College Pride

Stanford University Cardinal

Syracuse University Orange

Tulsa Golden Hurricane

Union College Dutchmen and Dutchwomen

Wellesley College Blue

College of William and Mary Tribe

I know the Wikipedia list was not complete, because my alma mater, Albion College, was not listed.  Albion is a lot bigger school than Shimer College, so I was offended.  I hope you weren’t equally annoyed if I missed your alma mater, or didn’t highlight your school as a major program. After all, even the Portland Trail Blazers did not acknowledge the Vincennes University Trail Blazers back in 1970 when the team was named. In all fairness, I think the Vincennes was only a junior college back then, so they may not have yet labeled their team, and may even have copied Elkhart or Portland in establishing their team identity.  Only the 21 major programs listed chose to eliminate the “s” from their team name.  That fact alone makes each of them unique, thinking outside the box.  I think you’ll find the same to be true of Professional teams.  I will wait to explore that list, but in the meantime “Go Blazers.”

Old Sport Shorts: What’s with all the Streaks? #36

A streak in sports by definition is an inherent, often  contrasting quality.  In other words, any streak needs a point of reference, a beginning.  A winning streak starts with a win, while a losing streak starts with a loss.  The most infamous “losing” streak in sports ended last November, when the Chicago Cubs finally reclaimed the World Series Championship again after a 108 year drought.  It may have seemed like a long time, but the fact still remains that they did win it before, which is a lot better than never having won it at all.  Their victory left the Cleveland Indians without a World Series title since 1948, 69 years of frustration, now the longest in Major League Baseball.  Once again, at least they were once a winner, and that streak of misfortune will someday end.

When the Cubs won the 1908 series, it started a streak of two, since they also won in 1909.  Will history repeat itself, or will Cleveland find an end to their ugly streak?  Baseball starts tonight, signifying the end of “March Madness,” which always gets a couple bonus days of April.  I’d like to call it “April Anguish” for all but one remaining college team.

It has been an eventful 35 days of streak-making and breaking.  After all, it takes a streak of least six games to win the N.C.A.A. Championship. The most notable streak in college basketball history ended this weekend with the Mississippi State Lady Bulldogs’ stunning overtime victory over the University of  Connecticut. One-Hundred-Eleven consecutive games is a remarkable feat, but ending it was even more newsworthy!  I’m sure the Huskies will rebound once they’ve had a chance to reflect on their remarkable accomplishments.  After all, every streak eventually comes to an end – right Chicago?

A few pieces of “March Madness” are being assembled in these April bonus days.  The Oregon Ducks have not won a National Championship since 1939, making their first Final Four since that eventful year.  If you do the math, that’s 78 years, a streak that will unfortunately continue at least another year after yesterday’s loss.  Yet, once again they have at least won one.  Gonzaga University, on the other hand, entered the Final Four for the first time ever, and they’ve never won a National Championship.   The Zag’s steak of Final Four appearances starts at one, and we’ll see what happens on Monday night.   South Carolina, had both a men’s and women’s team in the Final Four this year.  In years prior, the Gamecock men’s team had never won back-to-back tourney games, let alone make a Final Four.  The women had also never been to a Final Four, so there was little tourney history to draw from both of these teams.  The South Carolina women still have a chance tonight to win their first national title.  Conversely, their Carolina neighbors to the North have been to 20 Final Fours and have won 5 National Championships. The Tar Heels men’s team won it it last in 2009, so it’s been only seven years since they’ve captured the big one.  The fate of that streak too, will be decided on Monday night when they battle Gonzaga for the crown.

Before “March Madness,” there was “Hoosier Hysteria.”  Every state has its high school basketball history, but I would argue that there is none greater than the state of Indiana, especially when the single-class tournament existed.  Or is that just bias? The very best story was captured in the movie, Hoosiers,  based on the Milan Indians basketball team of 1954.  Milan has not won a state championship since that fateful year, a drought of 63 years and perhaps another movie in the making when that lengthy streak eventually ends.  One of the teams that Milan defeated in the 1954 tournament was Indianapolis Crispus Attucks, the first all-African-American high school in Indiana.  The Attucks “Flying Tigers” were led that year by Sophomore Oscar Robertson, the Big O.   As most know, Robertson eventually landed in the NBA Hall of Fame.  Following the Milan Miracle of 1954, Crispus Attucks and Oscar Robertson won the next two Indiana State High School Basketball Championships, losing only one game in 1955 and going undefeated at 31-0 in 1956.  After “Big O” graduated and continued his basketball excellence at the University of Cincinnati, Attucks won the State Championship again in 1959.  Just last week, Crispus Attacks claimed another championship.  It only took 58 years, while Milan is still counting.  Oscar Robertson at age 78 handed out the medals.

In 1971, I went to my first NBA game in Milwaukee and was fortunate to see Oscar Robertson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar play for the Bucks.  I find it interesting that the Indiana Pacers will don the Hickory High School uniforms from Hoosiers and play the Milwaukee Bucks on April 6th. To me, it commemorates that 1954 tournament game, 63 years ago, between the Milan Indians and Oscar Robertson’s Crispus Attucks Tigers.  It’s a great way to celebrate “Hoosier Hysteria” and “March Madness in April.”  Let’s now get ready for baseball season that starts tonight and the Masters Golf Tournament and see what other streaks we can start or break?

 

 

 

4

Old Sport Shorts: It’s Miller Time! #35

“March Madness” has just been that!  For me it started with some hope.  Indiana University beat Iowa in the first round of the Big Ten Basketball Tournament, but that bubble burst quickly.  It had been a frustrating season with the Hoosiers starting strong with victories over two eventual Number 1 tourney seeds, North Carolina and Kansas.  It looked like a certain invitation to the NCAA tournament and an exciting year for the team.  Then the wheels fell off, one at a time. Senior leader Colin Hartman out for the year, a shocking loss to Fort Wayne, a season ending injury to O.G. Anunoby, another James Blackman knee issue, and a team that led the nation in turnovers, of all things.  Every game was a nightmare with rumblings about the future of head coach, Tom Crean.

Tom Crean came to Indiana from Marquette, a team know for its reckless brand of fast-break basketball.  The quick pace lead to turnover after turnover, embarrassing to a Hoosier Nation comfortable with a Bob Knight philosophy that stressed fundamentals and defense.  However, circumstances following the Kelvin Sampson debacle required a complete rebuild of the program and Tom Crean accomplished that challenge, winning two Big Ten Championships in his nine-year tenure.  However, the program has been a roller coaster ride with discipline problems, injuries, and tourney short-falls.  Indiana fans were used to winning, and Tom Crean was not their man to do it!

The last Indiana national championship was in 1987, with the unbeatable coach and player duo of Bob Knight and Steve Alford.  That was 30 long years ago!  Since that time, Bob Knight has turned into a bitter old man, and Steve Alford has put together an outstanding UCLA team in the tradition of fellow-Hoosier legend, John Wooden.  The I.U. basketball team went from Big Ten Champions to N.I.T. (not in tournament).  To make matters worse, they mysteriously declined the home-court advantage in their NIT opener against Georgia Tech and lost.  Tom Crean was fired several days later.  I was frankly surprised that I.U. Athletic Director, Fred Glass, pulled the trigger.  I knew Crean was in trouble, but felt the injury situation might save his job and that we would suffer through another year of disappointment.  Suddenly, it was Miller Time!

Many names came to the forefront, once the decision was made to replace Crean.  Brad Stevens topped the list that included other NBA coaches, up-and-coming college coaches, and of course, Steve Alford, always a Hoosier favorite. Alford had been a candidate to replace Mike Davis, who after “replacing the irreplaceable” Bob Knight, promptly took the Hoosiers to the 2002 NCAA Championship game but lost to future Big Ten foe Maryland.  It would have been more difficult to replace him had they won that game, but many believe that history led to a decision between Kelvin Sampson and Steve Alford.  Unfortunately, Alford was  not the winner, and Indiana eventually faced the wrath of NCAA sanctions, and the beginning of the Tom Crean era.

Alford has lost another battle in the course of those 30 fruitless years of Indiana basketball.  Following his leadership in winning the National Championship, not to mention helping Team U.S.A. secure an Olympic Gold Medal in 1983, Alford was the favorite to be the top draft pick for the Indiana Pacers.  General manager, Donnie Walsh, went against Hoosier sentiment and selected Reggie Miller as their top pick in the 1987 NBA draft.  It was a decision that turned out to be a great one.  Even Steve Alford agrees.  However, that was not the only time he was out-Miller-ed!

Reggie Miller retired as a Pacer, and was inducted in the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame.  Alford earned the 26th pick of the Dallas Maverick, played a  four-year stint in the NBA, but only started three games over his career.  He then went into coaching, starting with North Manchester University in Indiana.  By 1995, he had moved on to Missouri State, taking them to the Sweet 16, followed by Iowa and New Mexico head coaching positions.  The road eventually led to UCLA in 2013.  Along the way, I’m sure he was considered many times by his Indiana alma mater, but it has yet to happen.  Many hoped that he would jump at the chance when Crean was dismissed, but why leave behind a promising recruiting class that he had built at U.C.L.A.?  After all, he had just achieved the Sweet 16 once again, and seemed to be in great standing with the U.C.L.A. fan base.

As it turned out, Alford would once again lose favor to a Miller.  This time, instead of Reggie, it was Archie.  Alford’s Bruins lost to Kentucky, and Indiana announced that Archie Miller from Dayton would take over the Hoosier reins for 2018.  I’m excited for the change in leadership, but disappointed that the only “March Madness” headlines that Indiana made in 2017 was the coaching change.  Budweiser take a seat, because if you were a Spike Lee hater and a current Hoosier supporter you know that in Indiana, it’s “Miller Time” once again!

 

 

Retirement is not without Hassles: Spring Break #34

Remember when your life used to revolve around spring break?  Maybe it still does?  It was when you took at least half of your vacation time, with the other half used to extend the time off around holidays.  Almost everyone can recall an eventful spring break vacation, when you packed up the car and adventured to new places.  Well, retirement is a new place, and it takes preparation and planning to get there.  This is why I encourage practice in the years leading up to this goal, and why many companies give you more vacation time as a benefit of staying with them.

Try to imagine what a day of retirement would be for you – what would you do with your time?  What would a week be like, a month be like, or a year be like?  Put some thought into a weekly schedule, and write down what each day would involve if you weren’t spending that time working.  This is a very important aspect of practicing for retirement.

What would your life be like without spring break, other vacations, holidays, and weekends?  A life where every day is an exercise in personal discipline.  What time would you get up in the morning?  When would you go to bed?  I was comfortable establishing a routine, similar to the routine that I had while working.  Maybe you would structure your day differently?  I get up just before my working wife awakes, do some stretching and strength exercises, take the dogs outside for a short walk, go for a three-mile run to gather my thoughts, write those thoughts down in this blog, and then take the dogs for a longer walk down to Starbucks, where we all enjoy a treat.  Yes, you still have to reward yourself in retirement, after all there are no bonuses, overtime, or employee of the month programs.  There are incentives, like travel, if you can afford it, and the pleasure of knowing that you don’t have to go to work tomorrow.

The good news is that all your time is now yours.  The kids are hopefully grown, you can choose how involved in the lives of grandchildren you want to be, and there’s a whole world out there for you to explore, whether through reading, video, or visiting.   There are movies to watch, documentaries and biographies to ponder, sporting events to enjoy, new acquaintances to make, and old friendships to renew.  I’m excited about all of these wonderful opportunities.  My life is now not consumed with getting a promotion, buying a better car or a bigger home, paying for college educations, or simply being the best at what I do.  I’ve already admitted that as a competitive person I’ve had moments of envy when someone else finds a better way to fill a day of retirement.  Sometimes I wish I had saved more, made more, or had more. In general I’m content, however, in having good health and some financial resources to fulfill some of my bucket list.

During my run this morning, I could actually see the sun come up.  It wasn’t totally dark and overcast.  I could see where all that rain was doing its magic.  Trees and flowers were blooming – spring was in the air.  It was what made me think of spring break and new beginnings, like my venture into retirement.  I just had a complete physical with positive results and I’m looking forward to at least a week of travel in each of the remaining months this year.  It didn’t even really dawn on me until just now that today is Friday.

I was in court-side, half-court seats last night for the Blazers game against the Rockets,  I’m not sure you could really have better seats for a basketball game.  The Ducks are in the Final Four against North Carolina tomorrow, as are the Zags who play South Carolina.  These are the events that now dominate my calendar, not business meetings.  Next week I’ll visit Chavez Ravine, Dodger Stadium, for the first time, joining my wife on her business trip.  I’ll probably also catch a tour bus, while she covers her appointments.

Life is good and retirement is great.  I’ll let you know if there are any hassles.  In the meantime, I’ll leave you with another poem:

 

Retire

.

I’ve spent all my life,

Working for Friday.

Soon every day,

Will be a Saturday.

.

No more Monday’s,

No more Hump Days.

I’m about to enter,

The retirement phase.

.

I saved some money,

Have a company plan.

Will I spend my Saturday’s,

Working on my tan?

.

With any luck,

I’ll have enough.

So cutting back,

Won’t be too tough.

.

So how will I fill,

Each waking day?

Will I be lazy?

And just play.

.

I begin a new life,

Be the boss of me.

There’s a whole world,

Out there to see.

.

Maybe new hobbies?

Volunteer some hours?

More education?

Smell the flowers?

.

Watch more sports?

Write more silly rhyme?

Catch up on reading?

Lose track of time?

.

And I realize,

That there will be.

An occasional bad day,

Where I won’t be free.

.

Because the thing,

That I like alot.

Those good days working,

Can’t beat bad days not.

.

A perpetual weekend,

Or maybe the beginning?

As the years go by,

And my hair keeps thinning.

.

Health matters,

Appointments to keep.

And those concerns,

That won’t let me sleep.

.

But the fact remains,

There’s still a perk.

I won’t have to get up,

And go to work.

.

Copyright May 2015

johnstonwrites.com

Retirement is not without Hassles: My Day – Alone Time #30

I published my first “Retirement is not without Hassles” post 12 weeks ago today.  At first, I was excited with all the comments I was getting – then I discovered that most all of them were spam.  It’s hard to know who is reading my words. Last night we watched the movie “Julie and Julia,” the story of a blogger, Julie, and her efforts to prepare all of Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking recipes in a one year span of time.   It had a happy ending with Julie eventually seeing more and more activity on her site and securing a lucrative publishing contract.  I think that all of us who blog have this fantasy of fame that we are trying to achieve, but unfortunately only a few of us succeed.  With this in mind, I’m satisfied with doing this solely for myself, enjoying the satisfaction of putting words on a page.

I am convinced that I’m what they call an “extro-introvert.”  I enjoy spending time with others but I also crave my alone time.  Today is MY DAY.  It’s as good as any Friday or Saturday and definitely a benefit of retirement.  While I was working, I certainly found time alone, but it was tarnished with guilt about not working.  Today this is my work.  I haven’t had a morning alone in well over a week, and I miss it.  We were traveling to see family and then my wife got the flu, staying home from work for two days prior to the weekend.  I enjoy her company as an extrovert, but needed my time alone as an introvert.  I’m very good at doing nothing, but I need to write about my thoughts and feelings.  I haven’t been able to do that for the last two weeks.

Yes, I love my wife, enjoy watching movies with her, and want to hear about her daily accomplishments.  I look forward to our Wednesday date night, cook for her on Tuesday night, and share my running time with her and our dogs on the weekend.  However, Monday morning has become favorite time of the week.  She’s at work, doing what she wants to do, and I’m alone with the dogs and my computer.  Hopefully, some of my best writing will happen on Monday mornings, a time that I used to dread in my working days.  I even enjoy doing housework on Monday afternoon – something I won’t be doing today because after being home and sick for several days, my wife started to notice the shortcomings of my cleaning skills.  At her suggestion, I had to clean on Saturday, instead.

I did watch a lot of basketball over the past week.  “March Madness” was filled with firsts.  The Oregon Ducks made the Final Four for the first time since 1939, when they won the very first College Basketball Championship.  The South Carolina Gamecocks earned their first Final Four appearance ever!  Indiana University hired a new basketball coach, making March headlines despite a disappointing season.  Finally, the  Indianapolis Crispus Attucks high school basketball team won it’s first Indiana State title since 1959, when they were led to an undefeated season by round-ball legend Oscar Robertson.  The “Big O” himself, at age 78, was there to hand out the medals – cool.   These milestones probably don’t mean anything to anyone but me, but since it’s MY DAY I get to reflect on what’s meaningful in history to me.

When I write about the hassles of retirement, I’m sure you realize I’m in most cases being facetious.   Hassles, or what an optimist calls challenges, are simply a part of life.  It’s just that in retirement they seem to be magnified since there are no work distractions anymore.  I could lament on the two doctor appointments that I have this week, but I’m also looking forward to five MY DAYS in a row, followed by the weekend of OUR TIME with my wife.

My Day

There’s reason to change,

The days of the week.

Since I no longer work,

They need a slight tweak.

.

There’s no more Holidays,

Every day’s the same.

It’s only on my calendar,

If there’s a Big Game.

.

Weekends are now,

Just another day.

Since in retirement,

We don’t wait to play.

.

Mondays no longer,

Are filled with dread.

No clock to punch,

Just stay in bed.

.

You don’t wake up,

Thinking “Only Tuesday?”

There’s four more days,

Until it’s Saturday.

.

Hump Day’s gone,

No mid-week trauma.

The week’s half-over,

Has lost its drama.

.

Thursday’s hope,

That when it passes.

“Thank God It’s Friday!”

Proclaim the masses.

.

It disappears,

And you sleep in.

Slips quickly by,

Oh, not again.

.

Where’d Saturday go?

You moan on Sunday.

My weekend’s gone,

It’s almost Monday.

.

Only Pay Day,

Seems rewarding.

Your life is like,

A looped recording.

.

Then you retire,

And begin to reflect.

The seven-day cycle,

Now easy to reject.

.

You don’t look forward,

To it being Friday.

Every day of the week,

Is simply My Day.

.

Copyright 2017 johnstonwrites.com

 

 

Old Sport Shorts: March “Bad”ness #23

Typically this is my favorite time of the year.  After all, it’s “March Madness!”  The sun should be shining, the NCAA basketball tourney is about to begin, and Spring Training is in full swing.  On Sunday, the basketball brackets will be announced, and since I’m now retired, I can watch all the games I want without feeling guilty about skipping work.  I also have the freedom to travel and see my team play once the pairings are set in place this weekend.  Unfortunately my team, Indiana , has played “badly” this year and unless a minor miracle occurs and they can win three more games in the Big Ten Tournament, I will not have a team to follow throughout March Madness.  I could be stuck with “March Badness,” and a spot in the N.I.T. (Not in Tournament).  Should I also mention that the sun is not shining, as the Portland monsoon continues?  No sun and no team equals a BAD March and a reason to be MAD.

I am excited today, as the Indiana team seems to have come together, so I’m meeting some fellow alumni at Buffalo Wild Wings for the televised game this afternoon against Wisconsin.   Indiana cannot seem to beat Wisconsin so I have reduced expectations.  However, yesterday’s get together for the game against Iowa created some guarded optimism. As a friend pointed out, all Indiana has to do is win 10 straight games to win the National Championship, something I haven’t witnessed since 1986 – over 30 years ago.  It’s a great memory – taking time off work to drive to New Orleans and win it all on a last second shot.  I’d like to have just one more of those memories before I die.  I won’t have to take off work to do it – if the team is willing and able.

I have another reason to be upset.  Having grown up in Indiana, the rival school Purdue has already won the regular season Big Ten Championship and I’m jealous.  I’ve lost most of my hatred for Purdue, since a “cruel” twist of fate took my career to Lafayette and the Boilermaker community.  I used to always say:  “Spring arrives when Indiana is still playing basketball and Purdue is not.”   Since Spring in Portland is all about rain – it’s no longer one of my favorite seasons, and Purdue is no longer my enemy.  I also have to contend with the Butler Bulldogs, since my wife is a graduate. Both Purdue and Butler are on firmly on track this year to be part of the Big Dance.  I hate to say it but Indiana just may be the first sign of Spring this year!

My friends and I are making plans to go to San Jose for the Sweet 16, with expectations of Gonzaga or Oregon playing there.  These are two teams that I’ve adopted since moving to Portland, but I can’t seem to find the same passion that I feel for Indiana.  Maybe Purdue or Butler will be there – who knows?  I do enjoy the excitement of high school and college basketball, so regardless of who makes the Sweet 16 it will be a fun weekend and a reunion with other college buddies that I haven’t seen since that last Indiana National Championship.

It’s been a good sports year for me so far!  The Cubs are World Champions and I was there.  Plus, I’ve already been to one Spring Training game with plans to attend regular season games in LA, Chicago, and Seattle.  I also plan to attend All Star Weekend in Miami with my son.  Baseball seems to have surpassed Basketball as my favorite sport for the first time in my life – and they say you’re too old to change.

I like this retirement stage in life, and hope that it doesn’t get “old.”  I know that I will – but I don’t have to play – just watch!  Go Hoosiers!

Retirement is not without Hassles: Getting going each day #17

In my humble opinion, getting out of bed is one of the hardest tasks in life.  I am not one of those that jumps out of bed each morning anxious for a new day.  I always want another hour of sleep, regardless of what time I get up.  I’m currently staying with my son and his family, as I continue my retirement tour across the country – Oregon to Arizona to Florida. There’s a three hour time difference from home to here, so I’m constantly trying to figure out what time it really is and which time zone better suits my needs at any given moment.  They have all left for school and work, while I stayed in bed an extra hour this morning.  I still wanted another hour of sleep – just because!

As I have for the last 10 years, I always get up and go for a run.  It’s not much to look forward to, but it keeps me going and has provided the necessary bridge between those working days and retirement days.  Nothing has changed in the first two hours of my day in quite some time:  I get up, walk the dogs, dawdle a bit, do some stretching, sit-ups, push-ups, lace up my Nike shoes, run, relax at the computer, and get dressed.  It’s almost mechanical – I’ve done it now for 2,984 consecutive days.   How do I know?  www.runeveryday.com computes it for me.

What I do after that two-hour “warm up” period varies each day.  It used to be work, but now I mostly get to do what I want to do.  Yes, I have my honey-do list, household and pet responsibilities, and fix-it tasks – those are the hassles of retirement.  At least, now, I don’t also have to face the hassles of a day of work.  I’ve been reminded the past few days of how tough it is to raise a family, get kids off to school, earn a living, and crash after a long day of no time for yourself. However, I’m a grandfather and a guest in my son’s home, so all I have to do is sit back and watch the action!  It’s exhausting just to watch!  I do try to help relieve some of the pain, provide some financial support, and stay out of the way.  I also limit my visits to a few days at a time so I don’t “hang around in the air” like a fish dinner.  After all, I have hassles of my own, remember!

I took the kids to Disney, the Daytona 500, and to a Spring Training game.  I will be flying back tomorrow with a thin wallet and the satisfaction of being a good grandfather and father for a few days.  Hopefully, I’ve provided a little relief to their complicated lives.  At times, I feel guilty for bringing him into this world, and other times I feel like a proud parent, as somehow they get by – just as I did all those years.  Now, I just smile as I reflect on school, college, marriage, family, marriage again, and work-work- work, knowing that all of those stages are behind me.  I also have to thank my wife, who is home taking care of the pets and working hard.  She’s helping make this visit possible and I miss her.  All I have left to deal with are the “hassles of retirement,” that today I say with tongue in cheek!

I will return to Portland late tomorrow, enjoy a happy hour get-together with friends still working to kick of my “weekend,”  do laundry, and relax a few weeks before the “hassles” of travel kick into gear once again.  My wife and I will be going to Indianapolis to visit her 96 year old mother, then Hawaii and Paris to round out the first half of the 2017 retirement tour.  I might even sneak in a trip to San Jose to hopefully watch the Oregon Ducks in the Sweet 16, since my Indiana Hoosiers will not make the cut.

Well, back to reality, my doctor’s office just called and I need to schedule a follow-up visit – speaking of hassles.  I see the Chiropractor on Thursday and the Dentist on Friday to round out the week.  Friends say  I look good on the outside, but I’m definitely “rusted out on the inside:”

Rust in Peace

People say I’m younger,

Than I look.

That my body’s youthful,

In any fitness book.

 

They like the way I dress,

And my childish grin.

My hair’s still there,

My figure thin.

 

But trapped inside,

Many years of stress.

Anger and pain,

I must confess.

 

Disappointment,

Pain and loss.

Troubles at home,

A demanding boss.

 

Looks good outside,

But rusty inside.

So many cracks,

I’m able to hide.

 

Like a vintage auto,

Shiny and sleek.

But my undercarriage,

Is rusted out and weak.

 

Blood pressure high,

Reflexes slow.

Another gasket,

About to blow.

 

Used to be fast,

Much in demand.

Cocky and confident,

The world in hand.

 

Just a few wrinkles,

Teeth still white.

A couple of dents,

From a fist fight.

 

Tan and fit,

You think I’m lookin’ good.

Just wait until,

You look under my hood.

 

Looks good outside,

But rusty inside.

So many cracks,

I’m able to hide.

 

 Like a vintage auto,

Shiny and sleek.

But my undercarriage,

Is rusted out and weak

 

Rev up my engine,

And hear it sputter.

My arteries clogged,

With too much butter.

 

A little beer gut,

But you should see my liver.

A little soft in spots,

But I can still deliver.

 

In  no time flat,

Zero to Eighty.

Driven only on Sunday,

By my old lady.

 

When my time runs out,

They’ll look at me and say.

What a good looking corpse,

He even hid the gray.

 

Looks good outside,

But rusty inside.

So many cracks,

I’m able to hide.

 

Like a vintage auto,

Shiny and sleek.

But my undercarriage,

Is rusted out and weak.

 

johnstonwrites

Copyright April 2009

 

 

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