The Color of God

The bus crossed the 7th street bridge and I peered over the rail through an open window at the eddies of a muddy river, swirling coffee relentlessly shaping the bank of naked earth. On my first day of junior high ringing bells punctuated my hourly class schedule. This change in my academic life assaulted my senses, along with the smell of lingering cigarette smoke in bathrooms, hot sawdust and oiled metal cuttings from shop class, the musty sour odor of the gym class unwashed, and the siren smell of shampooed hair, the same hair that framed stick figure girls in … Continue reading The Color of God

The Touchdown Bunny Hop and Thoughts on Richard Sherman

Did Richard Sherman of the Seattle Seahawks offer a sincere handshake to Michael Crabtree in the heat of the moment and was his comment, “Hell of a game, hell of a game!”, real? Only Richard Sherman can answer that. He seems like a nice guy, postgame rant notwithstanding. It did make me think that youngsters take their cues from the best players in the world and that my son and nephews and cousins all play ball, and that they watch these interviews and on-field behaviors. My son wasn’t a star, he didn’t always get to play a lot, but I … Continue reading The Touchdown Bunny Hop and Thoughts on Richard Sherman

Demigods & Champions

I love to watch athletes compete…any age, any level…just lay it all out there and try, find a way, play better than anyone ever thought you could. Runners best their career time, diving shortstops covered in dirt, cross-country runners busting the tape with nothing left, talking to their legs and ordering them forward by sheer grit and will. And of course I love the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat when it’s tempered with grace and humanity. That’s the greatness of sport, finding what we have deep down inside, our will, our passion, the uncovering of an indomitable … Continue reading Demigods & Champions

1967 World Series

Tonight the Red Sox, my favorite Junior Circuit team, and the Cardinals, my favorite all-time baseball team, square off in Game one of the 2013 World Series. Don’t tell MLB, but it’s really just the Championship of the U.S. since we don’t invite the rest of the world or other planets. Anyway, in 1967, I was a died-in-red-wool Cards fan emulating Bob Gibson’s pitching mannerisms in my back yard and Orlando Cepeda’s eccentricities in the batters box of my young mind. We were fortunate to see one baseball game per week on NBC’s Saturday Game of the Week and perhaps … Continue reading 1967 World Series

Building a Golf Course in My Backyard – part 3

Golf balls litter our course like orphaned Easter eggs. There is a bucket of balls sitting on the first tee and I’ve noticed my Dad and Mom and Karen whacking shots from the first tee to points distant. They hit balls with corporate logos, balls beaten into shapes more closely resembling eggs, neon lime balls and balls so old they’ve weathered to a dusty tan, creased and beaten within an inch of their life. Guess I need to hire a range boy to shag the balls. They say the world is round and those behaviors spun out into the orbital … Continue reading Building a Golf Course in My Backyard – part 3

It’s Sweet to Play Like You Are Loved

One of the most memorable rounds of golf I’ve ever played, I played angry. And it came on the heels of an exchange with a man we called Sweet, even though decorum and his given name, Edward Muir Sweet, demanded we call him, Mr. Sweet. The elimination of the honorary title, Mr., was not an insult, and the one syllable surname rolled easily off our tongues as an endearment that bridged the years separating us. He didn’t demand the formality, nor did he demand we call him by the name most used to greet him, Tid. He gave us license, … Continue reading It’s Sweet to Play Like You Are Loved

Caddying for the Younger Generation – Part 2

I sat on my hotel bed the night before the opening round and read about notable players including a golfer from Shreveport named Hal Sutton who had already won the Western Amateur that summer. I’m playing with Hal Sutton who would win the PGA in 1983 and was Ryder Cup captain later in his career. And so on the biggest stage in amateur golf I would be playing with one of the best amateur golfers in the world. The first hole at Canterbury Country Club in Cleveland is a par four dogleg right that demands a power fade to follow … Continue reading Caddying for the Younger Generation – Part 2