I’m not the biggest Shaquille O’Neal fan, although I respect what he’s done for the game and he has made my mouth drop in amazement a few times…

But, really I just wanted to give Shaq a huge shout out, his propers, for paying for the funeral expenses of that little 5-year-old girl, who was raped and murdered. There’s really no where to go with this story because, for me, its too disgusting to expound on and I don’t want to give the baby’s murderer and mother (yes, mother) any more publicity.

Shaq was touched, as any sane human being would be, by the situation and what a way to make a difference.

I do send out regards to that baby’s dad and extended family.

[While I'm away, the guest writer will play... Trust me, this is a great read!...]

When I first started dating my now-husband way back in college, he made one thing very clear from the beginning: On Saturdays, he watched football. Every Saturday. All day. Without exception. This was not so much a stubborn stance or challenge, but rather just a standard let’s-get-to-know-each-other fact. Like “hey, I prefer my eggs scrambled,” or “geez, I can’t stand those creepy Geico commercials.”

Let me tell you, the man was not exaggerating. Saturdays were for college football, period. At 9:00 AM (we were back in Oklahoma, where everything starts an hour earlier than it does out East), College Gameday came on, and there was no looking back. Fourteen hours and 265,478 games later—give or take a few—the day would come to a close.

(Look, I realize that this blog is geared more toward pro sports, so allow me to explain: The NFL has 32 teams. That gives you, oh, 16 games to keep up with every week—fewer, really, when you figure in the bye weeks. NCAA Division IA football has 120 teams. ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY. And? They play teams from other divisions as well. So every weekend, there are countless games to follow.)

…But I digress. My point is, the man was smart. There’s something about full disclosure at the beginning of a relationship that establishes some kind of immunity against any future negotiation. I knew what I was getting into, and I still dove into things headfirst, so I had zero recourse when Saturday rolled around and those tickets to the matinee went untouched. Trip to the museum? Nope. Picnic in the park? Sorry.

As much as I may have wanted to pout and hold my ground, it didn’t take long for me to realize that I really liked spending time with this guy, and if I wanted to see him at all on Saturdays, I’d need to buck up and plop down on the couch next to him. Lucky for me, he thought I was pretty swell to hang out with as well, so he did all he could to make that time fun for us both.

We’d laugh about the ref with his belt cinched ridiculously high up on his waist, cringe for those sad fans in cracked body paint and curly wigs whose team was getting whooped, and try to figure out just what purpose those skinny little arm bands serve. He’d patiently explain to me over and over again what the difference is between off-sides and a false-start; why this was pass interference but that wasn’t. And he only teased me a little bit when I chose my five favorite teams based on fight song, uniform color, and mascot (OU, Michigan, Tennessee, Georgia, and Penn State, in case you’re wondering).

Meanwhile, I like to think that I’ve enlightened him on some crucial things he may not have noticed otherwise: Those buckeye stickers on the Ohio State helmets? They bear a remarkable resemblance to marijuana leaves. The guy next to the cameraman? Totally just picked his nose. That cowboy mascot with the huge papier-mâché head? Ridiculously creepy. Those Miami cheerleaders? They’re wearing boyshorts. (Okay, so maybe he’d have noticed that one.)

The bottom line is, we balance each other out. Now, 10 full college-football seasons later, I am officially a “fan.” Saturdays are our time together. We stock up on beer, whip up some deviled eggs and burgers, and settle in for a full day of games. These days, I can spot a false start a mile away, and we still chuckle like 5-year-olds whenever the commentators refer to the penetrating D. (What, was that over the line?)

Jennifer Solomon, Whimsy│Reason Boutique

[While I'm away, the guest writer will play...]

What a wonderful time of year….
 
It’s sort of a holiday for football fans… no gifts or pleasantries being exchanged, just opening weekend.  It’s been 7 months since the end of last season… Testosterone levels have been kept in check.  Now it’s time to don your favorite jersey on casual Friday’s at work.  You stare and mumble under your breath when a co-worker wears your rival teams’ colors or jersey… football pools…fantasy teams consume much of your time. 
 
When else is it permissible to grill in the parking lot with 50 of your closest friends… paint your face purple, black, or silver and scream like a banshee in public?  So dust off the team blanket, chair, socks, and underwear…. “Let’s get ready for some football !!!”
 
Sundays in fall…Isn’t is a wonderful time of year???

David Neal, David Neal’s Blog

Hubby and I were up late watching Hard Knocks, this special on the Cincinnati Bengals going through training camp and some of the preseason. There’s a newfound respect because you see the behind-the-scenes happenings that make everything look good on game day.

You get these great highlights of coaches pushing the players, along with rookies finding their way, and veterans enjoying the experience. The snapshots pinpointed one specific message… make every rep count…

The message resonated with me (For real!)… So, during training camp there are more players than what is needed. By the end of camp, if the player hasn’t made a positive impression they’re waived or cut. That sucks, right? Well, the whole point is to make every rep count and take full advantage of the opportunity.

Seeing this whole process and the urgency behind it all really helped me to refocus on the task at hand. I think it is a great lesson for us all. When opportunities present themselves (even when hard work is involved) count them as chances to make an impact and make your dreams come true. It’s all about the hard work… That’s what gets you to your end result.

There is adversity in the world. We all know it. Sometimes we greet it into our lives and other times it comes when we least expect it. Out of all the things you can count on, adversity showing up is definitely one of them.

When you think of adversity, what does it look like to you?… I mean, that can be a literal or figurative question. For me (on a very personal note), adversity looks like the divisive stance that seems to pop up within my family. Not between my husband and I, but the extended family (parents and brothers, etc.). There is always something that happens in the family that makes me want to pull the covers over my head and just start again tomorrow. But I digress…

I thought of Tiger [Woods] and couldn’t help but think of his recent adversarial experience. Obviously, with having a champion’s hunger, he expects to win each time he steps onto the greens. Well, someone else had other plans. During the PGA Championship, Y.E. Yang stunned the world (and Tiger!) by defeating Tiger and leaving him without a major title for the year. As the first Asian-born player to gain a major title, Yang walked away the champion of a game in which Tiger had every intention to win.

You know that sucked for Tiger, right? Yeah, I know, he’s won before so give someone else a chance… but imagine losing in something you thought you had in the bag AND in an event that never evaded you in this fashion. Tiger gave Yang his props and kept it moving. That’s the key (Put it in action this week!)… Adversity will come, but keep it moving!

You didn’t know that about me, did you? But yep, I have my very own caddy… There are a whirlwind of recent stories that I intend to comment on, but I thought I’d be a little light going into the weekend.

I was watching Sports Center earlier this week and a story came up about Tiger Woods and his caddy, Steve Williams. Moreover, it was a story of the relationship that evolves between two people on the path toward the same goal. From the story, I gained a new respect of a caddy’s role and the increased bond that stands in the gap. It also made me think of my own caddy, my mom…

It sounds all mushy and all, but man, “Mama D” (which Hubby affectionately named her years ago and now everyone calls her) has been that point of trust for many years… And I guess (well, I know), before the times when I could appreciate her efforts and sacrifice. She has, in a grand way, been the catalyst that has seen me through so much. Mama D has always advised me (and still does) with my best interest in mind and even when I fall to my less than better judgement, she remains calm and firm and loving, all at the same time.

And now, in my adult years she’s still definitely right there to the side, whispering to me the right move to make from her vantage point. And although it’s completely up to me to ultimately choose the proper route, it’s good to know there’s a voice right over my shoulder that has my best interest at heart. So, when I watch Williams behind Tiger, or just to the side, I will make that mental note of just how Mom is always there.

Why didn’t I know Eunice Kennedy Shriver was the founder and chairperson for the worldwide Special Olympics movement? Isn’t that so random (that I didn’t know, that is…)? I mean, I would never equate the two… anyway, she just passed and obviously all of her contributions are coming out.

I mentioned it to Hubby and a totally surprising conversation started up. Before (like me) he realized what she’d contributed (to sports), he didn’t realize why her death was on random channels, like the sports’ channels. He summed all the publicity up to her family’s dynasty… He felt like people shouldn’t just live off the name without contribution to the name. I could see his point.

When we discovered her contribution, to not only her name (I mean, let’s not kid ourselves, the Kennedy name is synonymous with scandal), but to the world, there was a new found respect for her because of her insight and forward thinking… She maintained that a person’s disability and state of being had nothing to do with a person’s spirit. And, she desired that people with disabilities were included, accepted, and valued.

Now although I feel this was a major sports’ blunder on my part, especially with the pride I have in being a history and knowledge “mini”-buff, I am happy to learn something new (Hubby, too) about such an impact to the sports’ world (FYI, I did know her sister suffered with a disability so now that I think of it, it makes total sense.).

You just never know… Hey, is it just me or has anyone else experienced assuming something (or that they something) about a person, only to realize you were premature in judgment?

A friend of mine called me today to get some advice on how to help his wife better understand sports. He and I had discussed the subject several times before, but he was at a record high on irritation and needed some answers. I had to think about his questions because it was paramount to gage whether he was frustrated with his wife for her lack of knowledge on the subject or whether he felt she didn’t care about understanding the subject.

I asked him for an example and he said she asked questions like, “Why is the point guard so small? Shouldn’t he be bigger? Isn’t he suppose to guard the other team from getting points?” These questions made him angry and resentful, and we eventually pinpointed why… It wasn’t so much the questions, although he did ask her if she was serious (LOL!). It was more about timing. He said it was during the Finals (NBA, people, for those who aren’t aware) and the game was close, and now she wanted to have this conversation.

It’s timing… with everything that we endeavor, timing is one of the most important facets of a situation. Now, with training camp (NFL yall… Go Ravens!!) in full force, he wanted to be sure that he could stop the questions before they started and before the season started. I recommended asking her to learn one thing a week (You can choose the range.) about the particular seasonal sport that he’s watching. All the while letting her know that this is the type of gift he wants to receive and how important it is to him. I conveyed to him from a woman’s point of view, that one of the more difficult things about relationships is understanding what your partner REALLY wants… You know, instead of trying to guess in the dark.

So, instead of telling your significant other to zip it… just relay that it’s about timing.

I know this is a common reality, huh? I’d love to hear yours…

Today I was watching Sports Center… nothing abnormal… but, then a story came across the screen that made me ask, ‘When is it okay?’.

So, I ask you, when is it okay to call your stepmother a whore (close your collective mouths…)? I just sat there and although the story was so much more than that, that’s where I stopped.

Jeremy Mayfield, a NASCAR driver, just lost his father and now the poop has hit the fan between Mayfield and his stepmother. She obviously said she witnessed Mayfield’s meth use and he hit the fan (Aside, he is in the media about allegedly using meth.). Along with calling her a liar and indicating that he doesn’t even spend time around her, he called her a whore.

I just thought, when is there ever a time to go there? Even if a person is totally justified, to me, it just makes that person look bad… especially when it’s on air. I feel like a person should think of the bigger picture and, in Mayfield’s case, remember the whole public relations part of it. How are you looking? It’s all about perception. Perception is, indeed, reality.

So, as I got off the couch to get something to drink, all that stayed with me in that story was someone’s mother (step… okay) was a whore and it just didn’t settle well with me.

I know this site is about professional athletes and the stories surrounding their lives, but I have a personal story that I want to share…

We had to put my long-haired Persian, Camry, down. For me, it was unexpected and happened so suddenly. I can’t believe the pain that I’m feeling. Camry was 13… Yeah, I know she was really old. But, I just thought she’d be around for much, much longer. This past weekend we’d just had a cookout and she seemed fine… She was hanging around all the guests and wanted to be part of the party. Then, for the next couple of days she was really lethargic and anti-social (more than normal). She didn’t want to be held and she wasn’t eating or drinking. When we got to the vet, they told us she was experiencing liver failure and that it had progressed so far that her other organs were beginning to fell. Her eyes were cloudy and she wasn’t responsive at all… She would, however, move her tail a bit when I called her name. Of course, seeing that just broke my heart.

What happened?… That’s all I could think. The doctor then said that we could spend the money on x-rays and blood work, but that she was so advanced that recovery wasn’t unlikely and that the only other alternative was to put her down. I immediately fell apart (This evening Hubby said I was at Level 10. He was trying to make me smile.). The thought that consenting to kill her was more than I could bear and leaving her in this place all alone just took me over. We were both glad that my mom was there with us… She encouraged me to let her go. She said that she was in pain and that it was cruel to allow her to go on the way she was. I knew in my head, but my heart just couldn’t conceive losing her. I asked Mother later why she didn’t cry… she said that she was, but she couldn’t let us see it because someone had to be strong for us. I’m thankful for her strength. Obviously, we went ahead with the procedure, but it took some time and lots of tears. Mother and Hubby were so strong for me throughout the entire process and I’m so thankful to them.

You know, it might seem weird that all of these feelings are being experienced over a cat, but I tell you, you never know until you go through it. She was part of the family and we loved her so much. She’s been there for many stages of my life and there are so many memories that have over taken me. Right now it’s really hard and I am just too exhausted to put much energy into other areas, but I know this will soon pass.

I just wanted to share…