[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

Hello, is it me or has the whole rape story associated with Pittsburgh Steelers’ quarterback, Ben Roethlisberger, been covered up? I’m a little salty about this because it is, after all, news. And, we all know “news” is released and covered before the truth is determined.

(Okay, back up… For those who don’t know, Roethlisberger is being accused of raping a former Nevada casino worker and he says he didn’t do it.)

Recently, this woman says she’ll drop the lawsuit if the quarterback acknowledges the rape and apologized. Of course, Roethlisberger’s lawyers are like yeah, no… and says she only wants money [This is a total aside: If I were suing a NFL champion (especially for allegedly raping me), it wouldn’t be for $440,000. I’m just saying.]. Okay I’m back…

I’m not siding either way. I’m just questioning why this titillating story hasn’t inundated the air ways like similar stories have? A person of such fame requires this level of coverage, good or bad, and if news is in fact just that, news, then we should hear about it (repeatedly, like any other high-profile story)…

Verbal Re-enacting (Paraphrased)

After I lose a game, don’t taunt me. Don’t tap me on the shoulder and clown me because you just won the game. It’s not a good look.

But…

Guess what’s a much worse look?…

Wow! It’s never a good idea to hit someone in response and totally forget the potential consequences (nevermind pouncing into the angry crowd…).

Consequences: Oregon running back, LeGarrette Blount, was suspended from the team for the year.

Wow… How would I, the parent, respond to my kid when he calls and tells me his version?… ‘Son, yeah that doesn’t quite line up with what I’m watching on ESPN right now.’

Here’s the thing, football season is here and there are a few traditions (a.k.a. fun times) that occur which makes the season a memorable one. One that comes to mind is the ritual of donning your team’s jersey and gathering at the local pub or sports’ bar to eat, drink, and cheer your favorite team on. It’s an exciting environment and is one of those things you just can’t explain… you have to do it (if only once).

This actually leads me to my point (I’m cracking up already!). I did it once and that was enough. The end.

It’s really not the end, but that’s how I feel. I mean, being social is one thing (which I’m not… I try! I really do try! It’s just overrated, ugh!), but purposely leaving the comforts of my own home to be around potentially inebriated and rowdy strangers, where the chances of an argument/fight breaking out is like 97 percent doesn’t appeal to me. Really. I think of the sticky floors, the finger-flirting peanuts on the wet bar top, and the soiled bathroom that I try to avoid at all cost and I am literally drained by it all. Eek!

The flip side is sitting on my way comfy couch (with Hubby), in a climate-controlled atmosphere with all the trimmings (and the occasional nap during the game), and no need for shoes (I don’t know why that’s important.). Uh, I choose the latter.

So, please… enlighten me. Why, why (why!) do you continue to venture to these places?

This isn’t a professional sports’ story, but one of relevance none the less… What do you make of this?

High school, death, a coach possibly going to jail…

As I understand it, a 15-year-old lineman, Maxwell Gilpin, collapsed on a high school practice football field from a heat stroke and later died. Gilpin’s body temperature reached 107 degrees. David Stinson, the Pleasure Ridge Park coach with a reckless homicide charge, may be on his way to jail for alleged not giving students water on this day where temperatures reached 94 degrees. If convicted, the coach could face 5 years behind bars.

I wish I could get all the facts because there has been so much lost already. I know of many young people who find themselves in back-breaking practices and only want to appease their coaches to ensure playing time and personal growth. Well, then you ask a kid how they’re feeling and they say they’re fine. There are so many questions… Where were the other coaches? Is this normal? Where were the parents? A boy’s life is gone and for what (This isn’t a sarcastic or rhetorical question.)? It definitely stirs questions and emotions. What is the future impact?

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!

Uh, injections? Yes. Creams? Yes. Pills? Yes. Higher levels of testosterone? Yes. I thought I’d heard it all… Apparently, I hadn’t. You’ve gotta sit down (maybe lie down) for this one…

The World Championship Track and Field action is going on in Berlin and well, I got a story for ya (LOL!)! A South African teenage “girl” is under scrutiny after winning the gold medal for the women’s 800 meters. She is being accused of being a “boy”. Yep! I couldn’t even build it up any more. The thing is, she won the race by a huge margin and the crazy muscular build along with the deep voice aren’t helping her case.

Geesh! In all my days… Wow, right?

Caster Semenya just wants to run and says she has a God-given gift that she plans to exercise, but the International Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF) suspects that she’s a guy. You know, women in track and field are known for having less than the hour-glass shape as a result of weight training and anything else that might possibly be used as a supplement. So, when I heard the story, I wasn’t a believer… But, wait! Then I saw the photos and the television coverage and, well, uh…

You decide…

We all know about the 60s and 70s (and some will say even today), right?… Those were the times of terrific racial tension and horrifying actions to match. Well, during those times a Major League Baseball player, Curt Flood, made—what some would say—a positive and courageous move for the liberation of all baseball players.

The “move” was being part of a lawsuit that would give players playing freedom (free agency) to play for other teams versus what they were accustomed to (reserve clause), being bound to their teams.

It is important to note that Flood was an African American and during that time had a great deal to lose (which he did) by just speaking out. The point is that today, years after his death, it appears that he’s no closer to being inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame than he was then.

I explained in an earlier post just what the Hall requires for induction and Flood seems to fit. He has been noted throughout history as a great player and, I would think that his fight for the rights and justice of all players (of all races and backgrounds) would be acknowledged today as something of some significance.

Above all, I think we should always give respect and honor (his propers!) to those who made it possible for others to benefit from the freedoms they had to fight, suffer, sacrifice, and die for… For me, it’s as simple as that. He didn’t just fight for Blacks or Whites, but everyone. Honor him…

Thanks “Kid” for the heads up on this…