Having knocked out a bike ride of nearly 20 miles for the third time in a week, I pronounce myself ready for a sprint where Jimmy Johnson has no greater chance of denying me than all those going-left NASCAR guys have of stopping him from a fourth straight championship.
Okay, that's probably a specious statement, since Jimmy's Sprint season has been loaded with results and my sprint is predicated on writing a 50,000 word novel in thirty days, so let's just agree that we'll both hit the desired final wire around Thanksgiving and he'll get both plenty of attention and a butt-load more dinero for his achievement.
I kind of understand the scoring system for NASCAR's championship, but its somewhat telling that most calculations about the possibility of derailing Mr. Johnson's crowning revolve around "and he gets caught in a huge wreck at Talladega." While a DNF (did not finish) means no points and obviously those drivers closest to Johnson's total would make progress if they manage to avoid the wrecks that are legendary at Talladega, JJ has kept a remarkably 'clean' car all season. (FYI- the radically slanted super-speedway provides centrifigual force that keeps cars on the upper edge vs. usual higher-or-lower search for the best groove. Cars run in extended lines because when one gets out of what cyclists might call the peleton, its impossible to squeeze back in. The result is fast pacing, little passing, and when "something happens", it usually catches a whoooole LOT of people in the mess.) In fact, Johnson's last DNF *was* at Talladega in 2006--he was dueling for the lead with Dale Ernhardt, Jr. on the last lap and they both got taken out by Brian Vickers. It *could* happen, but with four races to go, you'd could get long odds that he'd suddenly get a real run of negatives and get caught in the points race, where he leads Mark Martin by 118, Jeff Gordon by 150, and the loveable, Burger King-eating Tony Stewart by 192.
Like everyone except Jimmy, I won't be winning a championship in November. I may not even watch much of that other major November championship, The World Series between the Phillies and Yankees, because keeping the pedal to the metal is the only way to get to the finish line on that 50K. I'm saving one Saturday off in order to catch some Charlotte Rugby Club action out at Skillbeck Athletic Grounds, and I'm expecting to make it to at least one HS football playoff game in the next three weeks. Other than that, and some 15-mile bike rides that take about an hour and add staying power to the physical demands one might not suspect are involved in the writing process (oh, and I guess that 'real job' thing will require some time and effort), I'm locked into this race till the end.
Predictions: Jimmy wins his Sprint championship by oh, 88 points over truly 'old boy' Martin without crashing at Talladega; the Yankees return to the top of the baseball heap in a thrilling six games with Mr. Clutch Derek Jeter or A-Rod (see ball, hit ball is working for you Alex!) the MVP; Independence HS makes it to the state finals, and I survive many, many hours alone with my computer before producing something I'll be equally proud about accomplishing, just about the time I scarf the last of any leftover turkey.
Glenn S.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Glad I Saw the Game, But...
Watching Independence blow out to a 41-0 half-time lead (it was 27-0 before I got all the way in from the parking lot) and hold South Meck scoreless until 3:01 left in the third before having the reserves hold on for a 55-28 final tally isn't going to help me much in evaluating just how big a game the Butler-Independence shootout is going to be on November 6th. I got fully enlightened on that by the gentleman who was *very* ticked that even though he has obviously supported The Big I as completely as possible with "family packs" of tickets, he would be given no preference when tickets for that particular event went on sale.
That acknowledged "biggie" may well mark a changing of the guard in Mecklenburg high school football. While Butler has built a great rep, Big I has a fistful-plus of championship trophies to show anyone who thinks they rate being called the best. Langston Wertz Jr. (lwertz@charlotteobserver.com) has seen a lot more games than I and puts Butler ahead, and I wish his one man campaign to have the game played at 6000-seats-plus-great-scoreboard Providence High on Nov. 7th the best of luck. That he thinks the State selection committee will let them play Sat. and delay slotting the two teams for the playoffs even a few hours is probably a Quixotian quest.
Yes, the input of watching Anthony Carrothers go 16-25 for 288 yards and four TDs brought some perspective last Friday, and yes, I admit the first thought was, "You're kidding me, THAT is the QB?!" because he is probably 160 lbs. including his helmet and shoulder pads. The only time he looked like he had any size was when he tossed footballs on the sidelines to 2nd graders during halftime, the lucky students from a local elementary school gaining the privilege because of good behavior.
But when Carrothers throws it for real, you recognize he's a worthy heir to the lineage of excellence that has manned the position for many years at Big I. He has no problem making throws to the sidelines, and several went through receivers hands, probably because there was some real pace on them. On back-to-back throws he put it RIGHT ON the sideline flag from 50 yards out, getting a drop on the first and tough coverage knocking the second away. He snuck a screen pass in the mix for 17, then came an absolute bullet from 33 for the score that showed why he's for real. College scouts are reportedly looking at him, and while one has to wonder if the difference between high school and college linemen will allow for him to continue a la Chris Leak, here's hoping he gets a chance somewhere.
I recall young (yes he was, once upon a time) Bobby Bowden giving scholarships to something like 17 QBs when he took over at West Virginia, primarily because QBs are considered the best athletes and can be turned into players at almost any other position. That same scholarship story indicates Bobby gave all he had to out-of-staters, stating definitively that West Virginia didn't have anyone that rated a scholarship, which is why he didn't stay at WVU very long. You'd like to think Carrothers ability gets him such a shot as well.
Not that there's anything wrong with being "just" a really good player on a really good team. With all the hype about Butler's Christian LeMay, who I doubt I'll get to see this Friday because of commitments, one still wonders how good they are until teams that can really test them show up. LeMay's stats are relatively low yardage-wise, which you have to give their coach credit for. He is certainly super-accurate, going 9-11 for 177 and three TDs while Butler massacred Ardrey Kell 67-0, and playing just the first half shows restraint, even if receiver Anthony Short had 181 total yards and four touchdowns.
And people, if you haven't caught a HS football game in a while, do something about that, because the atmosphere will put you on the Memory Train. No, we might not *think* we were such silly teenagers, we definitely didn't have cell phones, but when the cheerleaders are shaking it and the dads in the stands are shouting encouragement to individual players for a hit, catch, block, or event of note, you can't help but remember "back in the day" yourself. I've got a baseline notion of what a top team and QB looks like now, but I also know teams like West Charlotte have massive O-lineman, and I didn't see that at Independence. Guess I will have to TIVO some of the college games and watch some playoff games in the near future to really know the deal.
Glenn S.
That acknowledged "biggie" may well mark a changing of the guard in Mecklenburg high school football. While Butler has built a great rep, Big I has a fistful-plus of championship trophies to show anyone who thinks they rate being called the best. Langston Wertz Jr. (lwertz@charlotteobserver.com) has seen a lot more games than I and puts Butler ahead, and I wish his one man campaign to have the game played at 6000-seats-plus-great-scoreboard Providence High on Nov. 7th the best of luck. That he thinks the State selection committee will let them play Sat. and delay slotting the two teams for the playoffs even a few hours is probably a Quixotian quest.
Yes, the input of watching Anthony Carrothers go 16-25 for 288 yards and four TDs brought some perspective last Friday, and yes, I admit the first thought was, "You're kidding me, THAT is the QB?!" because he is probably 160 lbs. including his helmet and shoulder pads. The only time he looked like he had any size was when he tossed footballs on the sidelines to 2nd graders during halftime, the lucky students from a local elementary school gaining the privilege because of good behavior.
But when Carrothers throws it for real, you recognize he's a worthy heir to the lineage of excellence that has manned the position for many years at Big I. He has no problem making throws to the sidelines, and several went through receivers hands, probably because there was some real pace on them. On back-to-back throws he put it RIGHT ON the sideline flag from 50 yards out, getting a drop on the first and tough coverage knocking the second away. He snuck a screen pass in the mix for 17, then came an absolute bullet from 33 for the score that showed why he's for real. College scouts are reportedly looking at him, and while one has to wonder if the difference between high school and college linemen will allow for him to continue a la Chris Leak, here's hoping he gets a chance somewhere.
I recall young (yes he was, once upon a time) Bobby Bowden giving scholarships to something like 17 QBs when he took over at West Virginia, primarily because QBs are considered the best athletes and can be turned into players at almost any other position. That same scholarship story indicates Bobby gave all he had to out-of-staters, stating definitively that West Virginia didn't have anyone that rated a scholarship, which is why he didn't stay at WVU very long. You'd like to think Carrothers ability gets him such a shot as well.
Not that there's anything wrong with being "just" a really good player on a really good team. With all the hype about Butler's Christian LeMay, who I doubt I'll get to see this Friday because of commitments, one still wonders how good they are until teams that can really test them show up. LeMay's stats are relatively low yardage-wise, which you have to give their coach credit for. He is certainly super-accurate, going 9-11 for 177 and three TDs while Butler massacred Ardrey Kell 67-0, and playing just the first half shows restraint, even if receiver Anthony Short had 181 total yards and four touchdowns.
And people, if you haven't caught a HS football game in a while, do something about that, because the atmosphere will put you on the Memory Train. No, we might not *think* we were such silly teenagers, we definitely didn't have cell phones, but when the cheerleaders are shaking it and the dads in the stands are shouting encouragement to individual players for a hit, catch, block, or event of note, you can't help but remember "back in the day" yourself. I've got a baseline notion of what a top team and QB looks like now, but I also know teams like West Charlotte have massive O-lineman, and I didn't see that at Independence. Guess I will have to TIVO some of the college games and watch some playoff games in the near future to really know the deal.
Glenn S.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
"The Only Thing America Likes Better Than a Hero...
...is a fallen hero" is how a particular negative line often goes, and yeah, we seem to like pointing out when some individual or team proves to be more human-slash-fallible than we had believed. Right now a lot of people are looking at the Dallas Cowboys, they of the $1.2 billion stadium with its mega-huge-even-by-Texas-standards TV screen and will-Bum's-kid-get-the-boot? type record after barely finishing off pitiful Kansas City in overtime on Sunday. You can read the controversy about Tony Romo's foibles as a QB or the fact they haven't won a playoff game since 1996 and get the gist of how human they have become.
Me, I'm committed to going to the Independence HS game on Friday, and yes, its because they are looking less like human steamrollers and more like high school kids than most people in the Charlotte area can recall.
In 2007 Independence lost to Cincinatti's Elder HS, ending a 109-game winning streak, then lost a second time to Butler. In 2008 their seven year run as State 4-AA champions ended, and while they are undefeated (8-0) this year, it took an interception late in the game to barely pull out a win over Providence HS 31-27 their last time out. Heck, Butler is ranked ahead of them both in the local Sweet 16 and at the State and national levels, but thats going to get sorted out in the most definitive way on November 6th when the two programs collide at Butler. It seems legit to see how Big I responds after a nail-biter against "ordinary" opposition before watching a REALLY big game, and I'm actually excited about attending my first high school game since, well, maybe the early 80s.
Football, in case you didn't actually know this, is a VERY big deal in the South, and it's impressive that teams like Independence actually travel to someplace like Cincinatti, or that Charlotte Catholic traveled to play-beat a Florida team, Jupiter Christian, that owned the states longest win streak (32 games) 37-25 last week. As much as I appreciate the rifle-armed QBs the college game currently showcases (and Colt McCoy is my pick for the best), I'm looking forward to seeing what a well-regarded recruit like Anthony Carrothers or Butler's Christian LeMay can do. LeMay went 11-14 for 182 yards and three TDs against East Meck last week, but I went to an East Meck (now 3-4) practice and wasn't impressed with their sluggishness. It's been suggested that Butler-Independence play at Providence HS in order to utilize the biggest on-campus stadium in the area and its not Texas-sized but still terrific video scoreboard screen. Games of this caliber have usually been held at Memorial Stadium on the CPCC campus, but its under construction now.
Just an extra note about another local football game: wasn't that just the most unexpectedly good comeback victory you'd want to see, having the Panthers, now 1-3, come back from down 17-2 to win against the Redskins? And speaking of fallen heroes, how about the idea of linebacker Jon Beason semi-calling out Julius Peppers on a radio show last Thursday about his lack of production? I'm glad they gave Thomas Davis the safety vs. Peppers, but at least the big man's name was uttered on several occasions. Beason spoke true, and if it rattled some people, so be it. Americans also like to see 'heroes' kick some tail instead of perform under the radar. Even if he's more of an anti-hero, you can put a check mark next to 'responded in clutch' for Rickie Williams of the Dolphins in that respect. Their win over the Jets was another gut-check win. Even if I still can't believe the 'Fins didn't pick the franchise QB that Matt Ryan is proving to be in Atlanta, congrats to Williams and Chad Henne for doing the deed when given their chances.
Glenn S.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
The Purity of an Underdog's Effort
Having just watched the Twins survive a bases loaded top of the 12th against Detroit and then score to put themselves into an unlikely playoff against the mighty Yankees, I'm probably one of a thousand or so writers wondering what comes next. Will the proverbial gas tank be empty of emotion and/or effort when they step into the magnificent $1.5 billion structure that is Yankee Stadium (and yes, like the 'Marvelous' that Marvin Hagler saw before his name so frequently that he finally added it legally, the price tag for the House that Steinbrenner built will surely always be there), or will they believe they are *Destined* and continue over-achieving?
It's so true that America loves its underdogs, beginning with the rag-tag conglomeration that was the Continental Army challenging the highly favored British Empire to da Bums of Brooklyn, celebrated in every WWII flick as the dying kid's deepest wish to see win the Series before he died, to Lake Placid's 'Miracle on Ice' victory over the Russians and well, Kurt Schilling's bloody sock and the Red Sox finally beating the Yankees in the clutch and then winning a Series for the first time in longer than most humans live on this planet, we cherish watching sports for exactly this sort of impossible scaling of the heights.
If you've ever been on the mind-bending winning side of the equation, its simply something that can be withdrawn from the Memory Bank when things aren't going at all well and provides an emergency transfusion of air back into your cajone holder, or conversely, be placed alongside circumstances that are exceptionally favorable--say, discovering those silver dollars Grandpa gave you way back when you were five are worth like $50,000--and be delighted just how crazy good that feeling overpowers whatever is second. Having previously overcome that small-market-team-beats-the-odds mountain before (Kirbo and Jack Morris defeating the dominant Braves) maybe this Twins version isn't that same category though...
Finding the Rochester Institute of Technology game program from 1979 when I was coaching the Brockport State girls hockey club as a college senior revived my own underdog memories, and since I was actually searching boxes trying to find 2005 and 2006 state tax returns, such a diversion was welcome.
'The Game' was actually against Ithaca College, which had beaten us 3-1 a week earlier at Brockport, getting an empty net goal with :02 after we'd done a textbook job of keeping the puck in their zone for over a minute and peppering their goalie with 6-7 quality shots. Going to play them at Lynah Arena on the Cornell campus was about Big Time Payback, a truly amazing attitude for a club team with **ONLY TEN PLAYERS** going against a varsity team of 20 identically outfitted players. Their coach noted "some of your girls don't have cages on their helmets" in our pre-game meeting and that cages were mandatory for ECAC teams, which was true, but we were a CLUB team (one step above 'interest group') and intramural helmets was the best we could do.
Actually, our goalie (Judy Dufresne) represented our single best chance of winning, and my only rule as a coach was that NOBODY be allowed close enough to put ice shavings on her back when she covered up pucks. Judy was wearing a purple-gold LA Kings jersey while the other girls wore green, including four cold, wet, stinking jerseys that I'd borrowed after the men's varsity practice the previous afternoon and tossed into an equipment bag. When one of the girls commented about those aspects I only said, "Put it on, we gotta tape a number on it." I'd borrowed some other equipment (sticks and shin pads) early that Saturday morning, and believe me, guys knocking on doors at 8:30 are NOT the most welcome people in college. I guess I should be grateful that the "venerable" VW bus I got from someone never made it off the campus because the gears were shot--if they'd failed on the hilly terrain around Ithaca or even on the three hour drive there, we'd *really* have been in deep poop.
It was funny LATER, but when I arrived at the athletic complex to pick everyone up, hearing that "Barbie's sick!" was a killer notion, because Barb Hain, *maybe* 5-feet of energetic enthusiasm, was one of three key players. Barb went from playing field hockey to hockey to lacrosse and was an awesome combination of quick and fast--she got past you, chances of catching her were slim. I originally recruited her during a foosball game. While we had to stop several times en route for her to puke, it turned out to just be 'Freshman Flu', also called a hangover. Because Ithaca didn't 100% clear the ice time with the Cornell men's JV, our game started over an hour late, and Barb recovered enough to score two goals and skate like a demon the entire game.
In fact, four girls scored two each as we whipped the Blue Bombers 8-2, and I swear my feet never touched the ice going over to say "nice game" to their coach. Linda Wilcox, who had been a four year starter for Ithaca (and still struck fear into players who remembered her hits in practice) had two and was truly a coach on the ice while playing a ton of multiple shifts; she could only play for us because while her eligibility was used up, we weren't ECAC varsity.
That my brother Steve, who played JV hoops and did crew at Cornell as a freshman, knew I was coming and brought my folks, aunt, uncle, and nephew to the game before they went to see his game counts huge in the scheme of remembering. Mom mentioned that "all the girls have enormous rear ends", clueless about hockey padding and what my being a coach meant in any Bigger Picture. I was super cool in my three piece suit and polyester print shirt, snapping open the gate as we rotated nine players through three-15 minute periods... The girls thought it was hilarious that the Ithaca players got interviewed for local TV after we'd laid such a beating on them.
It was below zero driving back to Brockport, and it was a good thing we had extra blankets to wrap up in and a little herb to keep the post-game 'high' going strong. Barb got drilled in a men's hockey class shortly after that game (I'm sure the guy was proud to have finally caught up to her), and Judy, also playing in a men's game to stay sharp, popped a blood vessel behind her eye and missed our last game, another 6-1 loss to RIT. 'Space Cadet' Jeanette soaked a soft cast from a Tues. volleyball injury off, and the ankle was so heavily taped she could barely get her foot into the skate. I got a great lesson in life while telling a teary female, who felt she'd let the team down because several barely moving shots scored (she didnt tell us she couldn't see s**t in the mask) and wanted to just leave, thanks for trying to take Judy's goalie duties but your buddies still need you to stay and play defense. As a team and athletes we had nothing left to give, so that Ithaca game was the best memory I'll ever expect to have--they absolutely played better than I can give myself credit for coaching. Hell, I put 'Head Coach Womens Ice Hockey Team' on my resume for five years after graduation simply because of my respect for what they had accomplished that particular afternoon.
I might add that I contacted the Charlotte Checkers ECHL team about a chance to strap on the goalie pads yesterday too. We'll see how that desire to maybe have Chubby the mascot take some shots at me 30 years after my last intramural game comes along in the next couple weeks. I'm willing to sign a bunch of CYA (cover your ass) paperwork to make it come true, and I *do* have a job with medical coverage just in case...
It's so true that America loves its underdogs, beginning with the rag-tag conglomeration that was the Continental Army challenging the highly favored British Empire to da Bums of Brooklyn, celebrated in every WWII flick as the dying kid's deepest wish to see win the Series before he died, to Lake Placid's 'Miracle on Ice' victory over the Russians and well, Kurt Schilling's bloody sock and the Red Sox finally beating the Yankees in the clutch and then winning a Series for the first time in longer than most humans live on this planet, we cherish watching sports for exactly this sort of impossible scaling of the heights.
If you've ever been on the mind-bending winning side of the equation, its simply something that can be withdrawn from the Memory Bank when things aren't going at all well and provides an emergency transfusion of air back into your cajone holder, or conversely, be placed alongside circumstances that are exceptionally favorable--say, discovering those silver dollars Grandpa gave you way back when you were five are worth like $50,000--and be delighted just how crazy good that feeling overpowers whatever is second. Having previously overcome that small-market-team-beats-the-odds mountain before (Kirbo and Jack Morris defeating the dominant Braves) maybe this Twins version isn't that same category though...
Finding the Rochester Institute of Technology game program from 1979 when I was coaching the Brockport State girls hockey club as a college senior revived my own underdog memories, and since I was actually searching boxes trying to find 2005 and 2006 state tax returns, such a diversion was welcome.
'The Game' was actually against Ithaca College, which had beaten us 3-1 a week earlier at Brockport, getting an empty net goal with :02 after we'd done a textbook job of keeping the puck in their zone for over a minute and peppering their goalie with 6-7 quality shots. Going to play them at Lynah Arena on the Cornell campus was about Big Time Payback, a truly amazing attitude for a club team with **ONLY TEN PLAYERS** going against a varsity team of 20 identically outfitted players. Their coach noted "some of your girls don't have cages on their helmets" in our pre-game meeting and that cages were mandatory for ECAC teams, which was true, but we were a CLUB team (one step above 'interest group') and intramural helmets was the best we could do.
Actually, our goalie (Judy Dufresne) represented our single best chance of winning, and my only rule as a coach was that NOBODY be allowed close enough to put ice shavings on her back when she covered up pucks. Judy was wearing a purple-gold LA Kings jersey while the other girls wore green, including four cold, wet, stinking jerseys that I'd borrowed after the men's varsity practice the previous afternoon and tossed into an equipment bag. When one of the girls commented about those aspects I only said, "Put it on, we gotta tape a number on it." I'd borrowed some other equipment (sticks and shin pads) early that Saturday morning, and believe me, guys knocking on doors at 8:30 are NOT the most welcome people in college. I guess I should be grateful that the "venerable" VW bus I got from someone never made it off the campus because the gears were shot--if they'd failed on the hilly terrain around Ithaca or even on the three hour drive there, we'd *really* have been in deep poop.
It was funny LATER, but when I arrived at the athletic complex to pick everyone up, hearing that "Barbie's sick!" was a killer notion, because Barb Hain, *maybe* 5-feet of energetic enthusiasm, was one of three key players. Barb went from playing field hockey to hockey to lacrosse and was an awesome combination of quick and fast--she got past you, chances of catching her were slim. I originally recruited her during a foosball game. While we had to stop several times en route for her to puke, it turned out to just be 'Freshman Flu', also called a hangover. Because Ithaca didn't 100% clear the ice time with the Cornell men's JV, our game started over an hour late, and Barb recovered enough to score two goals and skate like a demon the entire game.
In fact, four girls scored two each as we whipped the Blue Bombers 8-2, and I swear my feet never touched the ice going over to say "nice game" to their coach. Linda Wilcox, who had been a four year starter for Ithaca (and still struck fear into players who remembered her hits in practice) had two and was truly a coach on the ice while playing a ton of multiple shifts; she could only play for us because while her eligibility was used up, we weren't ECAC varsity.
That my brother Steve, who played JV hoops and did crew at Cornell as a freshman, knew I was coming and brought my folks, aunt, uncle, and nephew to the game before they went to see his game counts huge in the scheme of remembering. Mom mentioned that "all the girls have enormous rear ends", clueless about hockey padding and what my being a coach meant in any Bigger Picture. I was super cool in my three piece suit and polyester print shirt, snapping open the gate as we rotated nine players through three-15 minute periods... The girls thought it was hilarious that the Ithaca players got interviewed for local TV after we'd laid such a beating on them.
It was below zero driving back to Brockport, and it was a good thing we had extra blankets to wrap up in and a little herb to keep the post-game 'high' going strong. Barb got drilled in a men's hockey class shortly after that game (I'm sure the guy was proud to have finally caught up to her), and Judy, also playing in a men's game to stay sharp, popped a blood vessel behind her eye and missed our last game, another 6-1 loss to RIT. 'Space Cadet' Jeanette soaked a soft cast from a Tues. volleyball injury off, and the ankle was so heavily taped she could barely get her foot into the skate. I got a great lesson in life while telling a teary female, who felt she'd let the team down because several barely moving shots scored (she didnt tell us she couldn't see s**t in the mask) and wanted to just leave, thanks for trying to take Judy's goalie duties but your buddies still need you to stay and play defense. As a team and athletes we had nothing left to give, so that Ithaca game was the best memory I'll ever expect to have--they absolutely played better than I can give myself credit for coaching. Hell, I put 'Head Coach Womens Ice Hockey Team' on my resume for five years after graduation simply because of my respect for what they had accomplished that particular afternoon.
I might add that I contacted the Charlotte Checkers ECHL team about a chance to strap on the goalie pads yesterday too. We'll see how that desire to maybe have Chubby the mascot take some shots at me 30 years after my last intramural game comes along in the next couple weeks. I'm willing to sign a bunch of CYA (cover your ass) paperwork to make it come true, and I *do* have a job with medical coverage just in case...
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