Category: Memories

Prospects of Yesteryear

After receiving positive feedback on my last “Junk Wax” effort, I thought I would revisit the era and take a look at another group of cards.  As a card collector, I have always been intrigued by the rookie card.  Most collectors are but I have always found it interesting that a player, who has, in some cases, never taken a step on the big league field, could be more valuable on the card market than an established veteran.  Perhaps it’s the scarcity in the cards available of the rookie but it’s never really made sense to me.  It’s speculation at its best.  And as the cycle goes, those values generally come down and stabilize over time unless the player is Mike Trout, Bryce Harper, Ken Griffey Jr. or someone of that magnitude.  Everybody wants the hot rookie but the market almost always cools.  And in many cases, the players themselves cool significantly.  Established veterans have a proven track record and are reliable.  But reliable isn’t always sought after.

Let’s take Cal Ripken, Jr. for example.  With Cal, in the late 90’s, you knew what you were getting.  He was a gold glove short stop/third baseman that played everyday, hit for average and power, won silver slugger awards and was a perennial all star.  His 1989 Donruss could be had for about $1.00.  Meanwhile, Pete Harnisch and Tom Gordon were booking higher in 1989.  It was more profitable to own the cards below than to own a Mark McGwire or Jose Canseco in 1989.  There are many collectors who focus only on the reliable and they buy the rookie cards when the players (and the prices) have stabilized.  But the chase is getting that Mike Trout rookie card before the price blows up.  Unfortunately, there are 100 Tyler Pastornicky’s that don’t pan out that you can invest in during a rookie season as well.  Believe me, I know the difference in the two players and the various hype attached when they hit the scene but I’m using examples here.

So with that said, I decided to go back and look at several of the cards in the prime years of 1989-1991 that I just had to have in my collection.  I remember opening packs and hoping on hope that one of these would be pulled.  Remember too that for a 12-13 year old, value is defined as $3-$10 and this was before the introduction of the autograph and relic cards that carry the most value now.  There were no 1 of 1’s available in packs then either that I recall.  The inserts were All Star Cards and Diamond Kings.  The base rookie carried the weight in most cases during this time.  We would get introduced to autographs and Elite inserts that carried $100 value in the early 90’s but I’m reserving this column to pre-$100 cards, which would exclude vintage as well.  Again, the list is in year and set order and is not a reflection on the heat the player was getting at the time.

1989 Bowman Jerome Walton – A Georgia native (Newnan), Walton was one of the ’89 Bowman that I had to have that wasn’t named Ken Griffey Jr.  I really liked the 1989 Bowman set at the time although it turned out to be a nightmare to keep in mint condition thanks to the oversized cards.  Bowman had been out of the game since 1956 and the resurrection in 1989 brought a “new” player into the game to compete with Topps, Donruss, Fleer and Upper Deck (also a newcomer in 1989).  Bowman was a throwback set that harkened back to the old days with facsimile signatures and retro card backs.  The ’89 set has not held up but I still have fond memories.  Jerome Walton was a center fielder for the Chicago Cubs that made his debut in April of ’89.  He won Rookie of the Year that year by batting .293 with 24 stolen bases.  I had to have his cards and this one was my favorite.  He was destined to be a sweet investment.  He would never repeat the numbers of that rookie season and lasted 10 years on the majors.  He finished with a career .269 average, 25 career homeruns and 132 RBI.  That is one season to some superstars.  And Jerome never became one after that stellar start.  The investment was a bust but as you will see from this list, it was far from the only one.1989 Topps Future Stars Gregg Jefferies – Jefferies went on to have much better career than Walton, even though the bar had been set low.  He made his debut in 1987 with the Mets and while he had other ’88 rookie cards, the one I remember wanting a piece of was the ’89 Topps Future Stars card.  I have had an affinity for the Future Stars subset since the Bo Jackson card in 1987.  The card was colorful and just screamed “Big Potential”.  I mean, it was a FUTURE STAR after all so the name kind of speaks for itself.  As much as I treasured the card, Jefferies would go on to have a good but not “star power” career over 14 years.  He was voted in to the all-star game in 1993 and 1994 but that is the extent of his career highlights.  He finished that career with a .289 batting average (not bad at all), 126 home runs and 663 RBI.  Again, his career was good but not spectacular – much like my feelings on Topps over the years.  I know they are the grandfather of cards and I am in the minority but I have never been real excited for the set, aside from the sweet 1990 set I got for Christmas when I was 13.  But, I remain a fan of the Future Stars.1989 Score Dwight Smith – I was a fan of 1989 Score at the time, even though it didn’t include the aforementioned Ken Griffey Jr.  1989 was the sophomore season for Score and I had easy access through my local Wal-Mart.  I also liked the packaging of the cards because it had gotten away from cello packs or wax packs.  It turns out that it was not a very good set in the long run at all.  Again, most ’89 sets are important to me because that was the year I started collecting.  Don’t judge.  Dwight Smith was another rookie outfielder for the Chicago Cubs and he would only be bested in the rookie of the year voting that year by his teammate Jerome Walton.  He hit a smoking .324 as a rookie but that would stand as a career best.  He played only 8 full seasons but had a tad more pop than his teammate Jerome Walton.  He would finish his career with a .275 career average, 46 home runs and 226 RBI.  Not exactly a hall of fame career.  He did experience one highlight that Walton did not and did so with my home team Atlanta Braves.  He joined the Braves in 1995 and has a World Series ring to show for it.  Another interesting tidbit is that he is the only rookie in MLB history to sing the National Anthem prior to a game in which he would play.  Unfortunately, that doesn’t make his ’89 Score worth more than about .15 cents.1989 Score Ramon Martinez – Another ’89 Score on the list is the rookie card of Ramon Martinez.  Martinez actually had a very serviceable career and the low value of his cards has more to do with the ’89 card sets than his performance.  He pitched mostly for the LA Dodgers (10 years out of 13 years) and finished with a very good 135-88 career, 3.67 ERA and 1,427 strikeouts.  He was also an all-star in 1990 as a part of a 20 win campaign.  He would finish second in wins that year and second in the Cy Young voting.  He also threw a no-hitter in 1995.  He suffered a torn rotator cuff in 1998 after 10 seasons with the Dodgers and never was able to completely come back.  He also wasn’t even able to become the best pitching Martinez in his immediate family as that honor would go to Pedro, his younger brother.  I had a ton of Ramon and not enough Pedro because my collecting had tapered off when he hit it big.

1989 Upper Deck Jerald Clark – 1989 Upper Deck was the flagship set for the brand and came out with a bang.  It introduced all sorts of bells and whistles like “tamper proof” packaging and holograms for authenticity.  Of course, those die hard shysters figured out the collation of the boxes and many 1989 Upper Deck boxes are floating around with the Ken Griffey Jr. packs missing.  But in 1989, there was Griffey and then there was everyone else.  One of the “everyone else’s” was Jerald Clark, a rookie for the San Diego Padres.  I remember I was one of the few in my circle that thought highly enough of Jerald to trade for him.  To be honest, I don’t even know why.  I just remember wanting his cards because I thought I knew something no one else did.  I guess everyone else knew that he would play 6 seasons and finish his career with a paltry .257 average, 44 home runs and 208 RBI.  I guess you could say that the numbers are better than a certain Rookie of the Year in Chicago.1990 Donruss Ben McDonald – I am a little peeved that I even had to bring 1990 Donruss into this blog but I’ll try to make this one brief.  ’90 Donruss was a truly abysmal set in design, production numbers and rookies.  One of the good ones at the time though was Ben McDonald.  While he is a member of the College Baseball Hall of Fame and a Gold Medal winner in the 1988 Olympics, his professional career never really took off.  He was the original “Big Ben” at 6’7” and was the #1 overall selection in the 1989 Draft.  He was previously drafted by my home Atlanta Braves in 1986 in the 27th round but chose to go play college ball, which paid off with that #1 selection 3 years later.  In 1990 he was a member of a solid rotation that included other young guns such as Pete Harnisch, Curt Shilling and Greg Olsen.  He wrapped up his career after just 8 full seasons thanks to shoulder problems.  His final numbers were 78-70 with a 3.91 ERA and 894 strikeouts.  Not only was investing in ’90 Donruss a mistake but investing in Ben McDonald rookie cards was just as problematic.1990 Score Draft Picks Chuck Knoblauch – 1990 Score was another favorite of mine, coming off of my high from ’89 Score.  I liked the design of the draft pick cards and, at the time, the checklist was strong, as evidenced by my next selection as well.  Knobby even actually had a pretty decent career until he totally forgot how to throw a baseball 45 feet.  He had a solid career and could have been a star second baseman had his issues later in his career not cast such a pall.  He was the Rookie of the Year in 1991, a 4x All-Star, a 4x World Series Champion, a Gold Glove winner and a two time Silver Slugger.  That’s a really good career when you put it all together.  He amassed a career .289 average with 98 home runs, 615 RBI and 407 stolen bases.  He developed “Steve Sax Syndrome” in 2000 with the Yankees and was completely unable to throw it to his first baseman.  It reminded me a lot of the catcher in Major League 2.  And Knoblauch tried multiple solutions to try and get him out of his funk but must’ve never tried the ole Victoria’s Secret catalogue trick.  He once hit Keith Olbermann’s mother in the head in the stands for crying out loud.  It all came to a head when he made 3 throwing errors in just 6 innings of play and pulled himself out of a game.  That must’ve been absolutely embarrassing.  He eventually was moved to the outfield when he was never able to cure his ailment.  If that weren’t enough, he was named in the now infamous Mitchell Report for HGH use in 1997 and would later be charged with physically abusing not one wife, but two (he was married three times total.)  Chuck’s undoing started on the field with throwing issues but continued off the field, thus destroying any hope of a future payoff for me and my ’90 Score.1990 Score Draft Picks Mo Vaughn – Another enigmatic player is outlined in my second ’90 Score Draft Pick card.  Maurice “Mo” Vaughn was a behemoth of a man that could hit the ball a country mile.  He also was not well like by Red Sox brass and the media.  I’m not going to take up for the media but Mo probably wasn’t very accommodating based on some of the snippets I’ve seen.  He played college ball with Craig Biggio at Seton Hall and came into the major leagues with a bit of fanfare.  This was not so much as speculation on my part as wanting to be in on the sure thing Mo Vaughn.  And for a while, he was a sure thing.  In 1993, which is considered his first full season (152 games); he hit .297 with 29 home runs and 101 RBI.  He would go on to hit 26 or more home runs for 9 consecutive seasons, topping 35 five times and 40 twice.  He also had a 5 season streak of hitting .300 or better in that stretch so he hit for average as well.  All told, he would finish with a career .293 average, 328 home runs and 1,064 RBI.  It is quite rare these days for a 40 home run hitter to also hit .300+ but Mo did it a few times.  Ultimately, his ability to rub teams the wrong way and his inclusion in steroid accusations killed the value in his cards.  Well, that and the fact that he was in his prime when baseball cards were churning out by the millions.  Still, Mo was a pretty solid investment at the time and one I don’t really regret now.1990 Upper Deck Kevin Maas – Here we go.  This may be the biggest got to have card that turned into a bust of my generation.  The baseball world was abuzz when Kevin Maas hit the scene and 1990 Upper Deck was the sophomore season for the company that totally burst onto the scene in the card industry with their ’89 sensation.  He was drafted in the first round by the New York Yankees and was set up to be the next Don Mattingly.  His cards skyrocketed when he became the quickest rookie to ever get to 10 home runs, then 13, then 15.  He would go on to hit 21 home runs in just 79 games in 1990.  Needless to say, I, along with the rest of America, needed all the Kevin Maas cards we could get.  This guy was destined for stardom.  He would finish second in the AL Rookie of the Year voting behind Sandy Alomar, and again, only played in 79 games.  He went on to hit 23 home runs in 1991, but in 500 at bats and with a .220 average.  The destined to be superstar was out of the league by 1994 and playing in Japan.  How it happened so quickly, I’ll never know but he went from the highest valued cards in sets to trash bin fire starter in less than 4 years.  That is an unbelievable accomplishment in and of itself.  He would finish his short career with a .230 average, 65 home runs (44 in his first two seasons) and 169 RBI.  This story still makes me sick to my stomach.  What a crushing fall from stardom. 1991 Classic Brien Taylor – Kevin Maas wasn’t the only “can’t miss” kid for the Yankees in the early 90’s.  I remember hearing about Brien Taylor for a couple of years before he ever was drafted thanks to the Classic brand that provided college and four sport cards.  He was the 1st overall pick in 1991 and would spend seven seasons in the minor leagues.  This dude never pitched a game in the major leagues.  He had several MLB cards like Topps and Stadium Club, to name a couple but he never threw a single pitch in the majors.  This wasn’t even a fall from stardom like Maas.  He never even got above AA.  He was the true definition of speculation and potential in the card market in the early 90’s.  He did have some shoulder trouble in the minors but that was thanks to a fight, not pitching.   He finished with a minor league record of 22.30 and a 5.12 ERA.  Life after baseball has been just as rough as his time in the minors.  He has been arrested for child abuse (for leaving 4 of his children home alone aged 2-11) and later for trafficking cocaine.  He spent 38 months in the pen from 2012-2014.  And I don’t mean the bullpen.  However, I am extremely confident that the majority of card collectors were riding the Brien Taylor wave in 1990-1991.1991 Upper Deck Todd Van Poppel – Todd Van Poppel was another pitching superstar in the making and Upper Deck was continuing to outclass the field in the card world in 1991.  Another first round selection, Van Poppel is another player that has a tie in with my Braves.  And what a tie in it is.  In the 1990 draft, the Braves had the #1 overall pick and were dangerously close to selecting Van Poppel.  Instead, when Van Poppel told them he would not sign if they selected him, they moved on to some guy named Chipper Jones.  I think we all know how his career went.  How different would the Braves 1990’s run have looked with Van Poppel instead of Jones?  It scares me to consider it.  Thank you Todd Van P for being stubborn about signing with the Braves.  How did that Oakland A’s career turn out?  He was one of four starting pitchers taken by Oakland that year and by all accounts turned in the best career of the group.  Only Van Poppel and one other ever made the major leagues.  From potential 1st overall pick by the soon to be 14 consecutive division winning Braves to a 40-52 career with a 5.58 ERA.  I think he sank his own career, and his card value, if you ask me.Side Note – 1989 Score Luis De Los Santos – This was not a must have but it has to be mentioned.  I had more of his cards than any other player in 1989.  Card companies now state odds on their boxes like “1 insert in every pack” or “3 autographs per box on average”.  I imagine that 1989 Donruss and Score could have put “1 Luis De Los Santos per pack on average” and it would have been a reasonable statement.  Having all those cards of him never paid off either as he would only play parts of 3 seasons and clout zero home runs while hitting .209.  Sheesh.

So there you have a list of cards that I just had to have when I was 12-13.  My daily trading consisted of trying to score one of these cards to add to my collection.  I had visions of being in a much higher tax bracket by now with all of my Jerald Clarks that everyone else was sleeping on.  This may have been more painful to write had the cards of that era turned out to be valuable.  Their lack thereof has made this a more amusing trip down memory lane.  I’m sure we all had those rookies that we wanted.  Most of them are on this list but we all had our own personal Dwight Smith’s too.  But this post makes me wonder even more why you can pick up veteran stars all day long for .25 cents but you have to pay an arm and a leg for a guy that hit .320 in AAA and might get called up next year.  Speculation is still fun I suppose.

J-Dub

Who We Are Is Elementary

A lot of factors shape who we are and who we become.  As a parent, it’s easier to recognize those factors sometimes because we focus on how to give our kids the experiences and support and guidance to become the people we want or think they should be.  But kids, we just spent our formative years living in and soaking up those moments.  They were our experiences, for better or worse, and they’ve no doubt had an impact on who we’ve become.  Maybe it all went well and we used those experiences to solidify what we had been taught.  Or maybe things didn’t go as planned and we used the experiences to guide us away from the path we didn’t want to go down.  They generally fill us with love or hate, good or bad morals or sometimes, unfortunately, just emptiness.  Either way, that’s just how it works most of the time.  We are given the path and we make it better or worse with the decisions we make.

That path starts for the most part at birth.  But as for memories and events we use years later, that starts for most of us somewhere around 5 years old, I would guess.  I have some memories of before 5 but they are random and not very vivid. I remember when I cracked my head open when I was about 3-4 and a couple of the moments surrounding that but it’s been kept alive in stories since.  We remember the really good and the really bad but a lot of the in-between is lost from our lives before 5 unless they remain in some story form that has been manipulated over the years by our own interpretations.  But, I am talking about legitimate “I remember when” moments in time. 

At 5 for me, I began my long and winding, and often disastrous, educational journey.  The year was 1982.  I would not finish that journey until 2011, some 29 years later.  Yeah, I took the long road.  I don’t know if I’m even finished but I am counting on that being the case at this point.  But in 1982, I didn’t have a choice in the matter.  It was time to get started with that big part of life and I did just that at Mitchell County Elementary School.  I have much more vivid memories of middle school and high school but when I really sit and think about those early years, some really nostalgic and character forming memories are there.  With some of the things that stick out, it makes a little sense why I am paranoid of getting in trouble or doing the wrong things sometimes.  And for me, a big part of this writing process is figuring out how I got where I am today.  These old thoughts of elementary school have given me some insight, although my interpretations are in control.

Elementary school for me was good overall.  I had a pretty good time making friends and was received well by my peers.  That is so often out of our control and left to the ability of other 5 years old to be accepting.  I was lucky that I had a fairly reasonable set of peers, for the most part.  It could be because of the town I grew up in or the school itself.  A lot of people in Camilla had similar backgrounds; similar income levels and we faced the normal social issues burdened on society.  But as a 5 year old, that stuff didn’t really matter.  The car Michael’s mom drove didn’t faze me.  The house that Bryan lived in didn’t matter to me whatsoever.  Joe and I even had different skin color and that meant absolutely nothing.  We were all friends.  It’s a novel concept isn’t it?  We had the same goals, we had the same needs, and we had the same affinity for Transformers and G.I. Joe.  And none of us liked girls at that point in our lives, except maybe Jason.  I think he was a lady’s man from birth.

Friends come and go at that age too as people grow up, move to other schools, take different paths or just seemingly disappear into thin air.  But sometimes, those kids stick with you from Kindergarten through Graduation and you have a bond for the rest of your life, whether realized or not.  I can still go back to my hometown and run into people I grew up with and we remember each other as the person we last saw before growing up.  Most of us have put on some weight and aren’t as athletic as we used to be but you can often see that young person in them and yourself when you have those interactions.  I now live in Lee County and when my alma mater played here a couple of years ago, I ambled over to the visitors sideline to see old friends.  One of my Lee County friends went with me and remarked after the excursion that I should go back to Camilla and run for mayor.  I’m not a political fellow but that said a lot to me about the old bridges I had been able to keep intact and it made me feel proud.That all started at a little school in the back of a part of town that some people never visited.  But as division has taken more of a stronghold on society, that is probably truer now than it was then.  I ride by there on occasion though just to see the old building.  It usually makes me smile.  Life was simpler.  The school was your standard, run of the mill, elementary school.  Classes were K-3, we had a couple of playgrounds, a gym, library and a lunchroom/theater combo.  Nothing spectacular but certain locations of the school still stand out in my memory.  I remember the track.  It was an all dirt/grass track and surrounded a make shift football field.  Behind that was our kickball/softball field.  My grandmother, Pearl, worked in the lunchroom.  She cooked a lot better at home than she did at school.  The gym was where I learned that gymnastics was not going to be my specialty, although I tried.  There were some outdoor basketball courts where I started to develop my very slow, but deadly, jump shot.  Near those were the music rooms, where my Aunt Carolyn was a teacher.  I had an in with her of course but she was one of the most genuine and enthusiastic teachers I ever had.  And, of course, her son Corey was my best friend in elementary school.  There was also a walk up store at the entrance of the school that was open before and after to stock up on snacks.  The only snack area I remember on campus was on the third grade hall.  That’s where I was introduced to the Bomb Pop.  I remember the teachers too.  Mrs. Fears was my Kindergarten teacher.  I don’t have any specific memories of her class because I think my memory maker was still forming.  Then, I had Mrs. Williams in 1st Grade, Mrs. Wingate in 2nd and Mrs. Parker in 3rd.  I’ve had an indirect relationship with Mrs. Williams for many years since 1st grade.  Two of her sons, Travis and Tori were right around my age and I knew them throughout school.  Then I played basketball with her husband, Mr. Charlie James, for a few years in high school on Tuesday and Thursday nights.  And not to be outdone, I worked for about 10 years with another of her sons, Trent, in adulthood.  They could never really get away from me, I guess.  Mrs. Wingate was my first, “Wow, she’s pretty!” teacher.  And Mrs. Parker got most of my deviant side as I pushed the limits before moving on to middle school.  Of course, Mr. Inman was a memorable principal.  He was tall and intimidating and had a habit of carrying around a paddle with holes in it to cut down on resistance.  Do schools even have paddles anymore?  The staff I probably got to know best was Mrs. Ward, the school nurse.  I began honing my Ferris Bueller moments early. 

We were introduced to fire and tornado drills in Elementary school.  The fire drill never scared me but the tornado drill was horrifying.  There wasn’t a safe place in my mind to escape such an event.  Thankfully, we practiced it and never had to put it into real use.  I do remember bad weather in school though and I always had that drill bell sound in my head, thinking it would go off at any time.  It’s the first time I remember thinking something dangerous could happen and my parents wouldn’t be around.  It probably seems insignificant but looking back on it, it prepared me for something I was very afraid of while giving me the idea that my parents wouldn’t always be standing right beside me when something went wrong.  That was the first realization I had of that.  In the long run, it was for the best but it’s one of those small moments that I have carried with me.

Another bad memory was that smell of the “oil dry” they put down when students vomited in the hallway.  There is no real profound meaning or moment here but I remember it had the potential to set off a mass vomit fest much like that in the “Stand by Me” film.  If I wasn’t sick, I could see that in the hall floor and would immediately get queasy.  I was also a little scared of it.  It was almost like the stuff they put down made it a biohazard.  So maybe there is a meaning behind it.  I am a bit of a hypochondriac so maybe that can be traced back to my fear of a vomit induced outbreak at elementary school thanks to the horrible smelling biohazard they put down in the halls.  Maybe, maybe not.

Ok, I am about to say something that may surprise some of you.  It hurts to say but it’s true.  I have not always been the innocent, good boy that I am now as an adult.  I know, take a minute to collect yourself.  There are three specific instances from elementary school that stick out to me where I pushed the boundaries of truth.  I got busted all three times.  I have no doubt there were more than three, but three stick out still today.  My dad has always told me that he would find out anything I ever did because that’s what parents do.  I could think I was getting away with something but they would know.  Well, he was either right or I was really bad at it.  There is another story for another time that fits this narrative from when I was a teenager.  I carried that one around for several years trying to figure out how my dad found out, but I digress.The first one was in 2nd grade.  I remember getting sent out into the hallway for being disruptive.  I called it being humorous but the teacher called it disruptive.  Tomato/Tomahto if you ask me.  If you will recall, Mr. Inman has already been mentioned as having a habit of carrying around the “widow maker” paddle.  He would walk up and down the main hall sometimes and if you were in the hall for being in trouble, you were getting a lick or two.  It was the first time I had been sent into the hallway so I was in a panic.  I looked down the long 2nd grade hall and waited for Mr. Inman to appear.  In a moment of clarity, I devised a plan.  I’ll walk a short distance down the hall, approximately the length of the classroom, then switch to the other side of the hall and walk back.  I would do this until I was called back into class so if Mr. Inman walked past that hall, he would think I was going to the restroom or coming back.  Fool proof isn’t it?  Well, my stay in the hall was longer than expected and while it did work the first time he walked by, it did not the second time a couple minutes later when I was walking in the same general area he had seen me before.  Busted.  He came down the hall, the plan was foiled and I got my licks.  I made it worse by not taking my punishment the right way.  I got it at home too.Then came the 2nd incident in 3rd grade.  I was older and wiser by this point and I had caught up with Mr. Inman’s tactics.  This one was worse though and I don’t even know how I came up with this one.  Parents could pick up students around 2:30 and then the pick-up area closed for the buses around 2:45.  I rode the bus over to the middle school where I would get off there and walk to the Methodist Church where my mom worked.  In an extreme lapse in judgment, I told Mrs. Parker that my mom was picking me up.  The kids getting picked up went out to the playground until their parents picked them up.  My plan was to get in some swing time and then hop on the bus unnoticed to head to the middle school.  Would you believe that it worked the first time?  But I got greedy.  Mr. Inman went out to the 3rd grade hall and saw me swinging.  “Don’t panic!” I said to myself.  “He thinks you are getting picked up, don’t worry.”  He disappeared onto the 3rd grade hall.  He would not reappear until the buses were pulling up and I was headed to my assigned bus.  Again, solid plan but poor execution.  You know what happened next.

The last incident was not related to Mr. Inman as I believe I had by then conceded to his principal super abilities.  This time, I decided to try my hand at deception with my parents and Mrs. Parker.  This one stung the most.  I was never the best student when it came to homework.  However, I was pretty good at scraping it together at the last minute.  I would carry that skill over to High School where homeroom the day of was homework time.  But in elementary school, I would usually piece it together over the course of the day and somehow pull it off right before it was due to be turned in.  I was not prepared for the scenario that unfolded that day.  My dad arrived at the school shortly after lunch, while we were on the playground.  He had come to check me out of school to go fishing with him and my grandfather.  Mrs. Parker said I was good to go, I just needed to turn in the homework we would be going over in the afternoon.  I left the playground confused about how to get out of this one.  Of course, I’d rather be fishing with dad and granddaddy than sitting in school.  As I approached the classroom, another stroke of genius hit.  Dad was with me and he had no clue what my homework was so I went and took out the homework from the day before and put it on Mrs. Parker’s desk.  As we were about to walk out, Mrs. Parker walked in to look at the homework and said, “This was yesterday.  I need the one for today.”  Are you kidding me?  No homework, no fishing.  And, I got it when I got home.

So, yeah, I tried some stunts in elementary school and got busted.  And that getting busted probably saved me from worse trouble later on because I have carried around that fear of getting caught to this day.  Nothing goes unnoticed or unpunished forever.  That is the lesson in my deviance in 3rd grade.  It will come back to you.  It may not be the first time or the second time but it will come back.  I guess I’m glad I caught back then but I would’ve loved that fishing trip.  There is one more moment from elementary school that probably had some effect on me.  It’s rather embarrassing and probably affected my approach to girls during school for a couple of years but that all worked out in the long run.  I don’t even know if I’ve ever told this story but it is quite funny to look back on, even though it was a rough prank on me.  There was a girl in my class that I liked, Shelley.  Every boy liked her and even at 8, I pretty much knew she was out of my league.  It didn’t stop me from sending her the “check yes or no” letter.  I prepared the letter and gave it to my confidant Robbie, MY OWN COUSIN.  I knew he could take care of the delivery.  Not long after, he brought it back to me and it was checked “yes”.  Cha-Ching!  Or so I thought.  My own blood deceived me.  He took the note, checked yes and brought it back to me.  I thought for an afternoon she was my girlfriend.  Only she never knew about it.  His laughter with Corey and a couple of others gave him away and I knew I had been had.  That was a good one no doubt.  It’s probably where I got my pranking ability from because I spent many years trying to avenge that one.

So while these stories may be funny or cringe-worthy, I have no doubt they have had some sort of lasting impact on my personality.  Its weird some of the things we remember while other things just vanish from our minds.  Some of that is by design and choice I’m sure.  But I have vague memories of death trap monkey bars, a curb store in front of the school and the occasional back flip I couldn’t land.  The real distinct memories I have are events that have stayed tucked away in my mind almost as vivid as the day they happened.  I can see Mr. Inman and his paddle.  I remember the specific swing on the swing set I would use when “waiting for my mom to pick me up.”  I remember the look on my dad’s face when the homework scam failed.  I remember the look on Robbie’s face when the “Yes or No” scam succeeded. 

I can see those things as clear as day.  They aren’t painful and they aren’t traumatic but they are meaningful to me and have shaped part of my path.  Sometimes we say, “If I had it to do all over again, I would do it differently.”  And while that can certainly be true in worst case scenarios, I believe we have to experience these smaller bumps in the road so we will know there are bumps.  The participation trophy and the “everybody wins” mantra have its place but I think it also robs our kids of needed disappointment at times.  Bailey was recently not chosen for a play for her school.  As a parent, I was bothered because I want my daughter to pursue every opportunity she has and I want her to succeed.  But there is also a part of me that knew it was a teaching moment.  It was an opportunity to tell her that she needed to work a little harder or practice a little more to get the part next time.  We will all succeed and fail over the course of our lives.  Sometimes the failures make us change the way we do things.  Sometimes they make us try harder.  Either way, they make us do something.  Standing pat is not the way to flourish.  It’s not the way to improve.  Take the events that happen and make them work for you in some way.  A bunch of silly stories results in me still trying to do the right thing one month away from my 40th birthday.  You can’t understate the personal importance of seemingly insignificant events in your life.

J-Dub

Living In Moments

Are we getting the most out of this life?  It’s hectic and there’s deadlines and milestones and responsibilities.  What’s your life story?  Are you going from event to event flying by the seat of your pants or are you really taking in the scenery as you go?  It’s really quite difficult sometimes to do the latter.  Maybe that’s why memories can stir such nostalgic emotions.  Because it’s usually only after we’re done that we reflect on the good times or the positive feelings.  If that’s the case, only if we are blessed with a long and full life will we recognize the great times and experiences we truly shared with our closest companions.  I think we all owe it to ourselves to “stop and smell the roses” on a regular basis.  But it’s really not that simple.

I believe that yesterday was one of the few times I was able to just live in the moment for tons of consecutive moments.  From the time I woke up until the time I went to bed, I was present and conscious.  The bad part is that I don’t really know how I did it so I can keep doing it.  It just happened organically.  It really was a fullfilling day.  Even normally stressful or difficult moments were slowed down and felt like the bullet dodging scene in the Matrix.  And I can honestly say I got what life offered during that time.  It felt good and feels even better when I think back on it now.  

Anybody who knows me well enough will tell you that I can be a little boorish and selfish when football season arrives.  I’m not real open to enjoying other things during this time of year.  For better or worse, that’s me and I admit it.  I’m thankful for those that understand and forgive me for it.  There is UGA football, pro football, fantasy football and occasionally video game football.  Part of it stems from nostalgia, once again.  I remember spending this time of year bogged down in Tecmo Super Bowl seasons, watching football games, going to UGA games, collecting football cards and playing in the front yard all throughout my formative years.  It didn’t hurt that I attended a “football school” during that time either.  Football is in my blood.  It’s a part of my soul.  I watch it intensely and deeply and it means something to me.

That being said, even going to “fun” events can be less fun around me during these months.  I’m not smiling and singing happy birthday if Georgia is losing in the background.  I’m not laughing it up at the Supet Bowl party if Cam Newton is winning.  I’m not very jovial if my starting fantasy running back gets yanked after a fumble in a crucial matchup with a heated rival.  I understand that it is a weakness for me.  I get that it’s not a good look.  Trust me, I really do.  But it hasn’t changed in many years and sometimes seems like it’s only getting worse.  And I am addicted to the feeling, good and bad.  I love it!  

So going to a UGA game for me can have all sorts of emotional ups and downs.  It starts with planning in general.  Athens isn’t a Sunday drive location.  It’s a solid 3 1/2 hours, including about 2 of those hours on two lane roads.  And about 90,000 people are spread out over those two laned roads on that weekend doing the same thing I am.  So planning is an important and sometimes stressful start to the trip.  Overnight stay or not?  If so, where, if not an expensive room in Athens?  All of it depends on game time and game importance.  12 o’clock games are always the toughest.  It’s usually a mandatory overnight stay unless I am all of a sudden in the mood to get up at 5:30 am and strike out on the road.  Football would be the only motivation I ever have to do such a thing.  

Why 5:30 for a 3 1/2 hour trek to a 12:00 game, you ask?  Because when you go to a UGA game, you don’t show up at 11:45 and take your seat.  There’s parking.  There’s a Dawg Walk that is very important that happens a couple hours before kickoff.  The fans and the players feed off of it.  There’s milling around various landmarks to take in the atmosphere and exchange “Go Dawgs” with your red and black brothers and sisters.  There’s the bookstore and it’s powerful allure.  There’s finding Hairy Dawg for a picture.  There’s paying respects to the fallen but never forgotten UGA’s of the past. There’s finding the spike squad for pictures.  And all of that is done before settling into your seat for some of the traditional experiences in Athens like the Battle Hymn of the Republic, the Welcome to Sanford highlight videos on the Jumbotron and the stirring Bulldog Saturday introduction video voiced by the legendary Larry Munson.  It’s not just a football game.  It’s really close to a religious experience.

So I know what you’re thinking right now.  This sounds exhausting.  Truth is that it can be sometimes but it’s part of fandom when you live and die with your team.  But that’s sort of the point of this blog today.  Any time you’re really invested in something, it has the tendency to take away your ability to live the experience.  That didn’t happen yesterday and it was such a soul cleansing experience.  I know, dramatic right?  Well, hear me out.  I’m talking about taking one of the most important “things” (outside of family and friends) in my life and having it truly wash over me.  I lived the moments yesterday and it was good.  First, it was my first time taking Bailey to a game with it being just us.  We left on Friday evening and stayed in Covington, about 45 minutes outside of Athens.  The day started at 8:00 with a football sunrise and no rush whatsoever.  Bailey was in a great mood and she said out of the blue, “Thank you.”  When I asked what for, she said “for bringing me to the game.”  That was pretty special.  We got ready and had some breakfast downstairs before we made the short commute over to Athens.  It was a very scenic ride and I caught myself thinking that if I ever moved, this would be my dream spot in Georgia.  Such a beautiful area.  We rolled into Athens and spent probably 30 minutes riding around looking for the best parking.  You go knowing you’re going to have to pay to park and you’re going to have to walk.  But we just rode around the campus and watched the sea of people in red and black hanging out at tailgates, playing cornhole and throwing footballs.We found our parking spot and started walking the campus.  First, I showed Bailey the Vince Dooley statue and told her who he was.  Then, we checked out the practice field and the indoor practice facility “under construction”.  She was pretty impressed with Stegeman Coliseum as well.  We walked for about 20 minutes just talking and looking around.  Then we got to the Dawg Walk area, which we caught the end of, and looked at some vendor merchandise.  She picked up some UGA sunglasses and some face stickers and we moved on to the Tate Center to get some eats and see some more cool Athens trademarks.  We wandered into the stadium and walked around field level to see the field, players and the Spike Squad.  We walked around really with no purpose except to see the sights.  We made it to our seats with more drinks and food and watched all the Pregame festivities.  During that time, they played a video dubbed “Coming Home”, highlighting Kirby’s return to Athens as Head Coach.  I had seen the video on YouTube but it took on a new feeling in person at Sanford Stadium.  After the video, I put my arm around Bailey and told her, “No matter where life takes you or what road you travel, your home is always here.  That G is your home and you can always come back.”  I don’t know why I did but I felt it at that time.  And she got it and smiled.  The sun went in and out of cloud cover at just the right moments alternating heat and a cool breeze.  We watched Eason complete a long pass on the first drive and Chubb finish with a TD run.  Bailey said, “Eason is good!  And Chubb is back!”We didn’t expect a competitive game but FCS opponent Nicholls State had other plans and that would be the last “good” drive of the game for UGA.  We watched the halftime show and decided to walk around more for the second half.  We actually walked away from a 10-7 game at the half and I was totally ok with it.  Of course, we never left sound distance of the PA and there were TVs everywhere.  But I’ve never left a live game like that.  We found our way to the Kona Ice vendor and then the tent sale at the bookstore.  There was something surreal about walking around with Bug and hearing the ebb and flow of the crowd.  We went inside the bookstore and looked at tons of UGA gear.  We got to see Isaiah McKenzie break a 66 yard TD on four TV screens put together.  We picked up a few items and walked out to the bridge with Georgia leading by a slim 26-24 margin.  With 3:00 to go, Bailey sat on my shoulders and we watched the Dawgs grind out a few first downs and run the clock out from the bridge overlooking the stadium.  Bailey reached out to initiate a high five and once again told me “Thank you!”  She didn’t understand or even care that we just survived one of the biggest scares in our football history.  Losing to an FCS opponent in the second game of the season would have been devastating.  I understood it full well but for once, I was happy to win and decided to reserve my review of the performance for later.  We were 2-0 and for Bailey and I, that’s all that mattered.  And really, that’s all that should have at that time.We took the same walk back to the truck.  Back by the Stegasaurus, the practice field and Vince.  And the 3 1/2 ride back really didn’t feel like one.  Bailey fell asleep pretty quickly and I zoned out with other college football games on the radio.  We stopped for supper in Macon and got home around 8:30.  We were both exhausted and didn’t take a lot of convincing to call it an early night.  This was a great day for a lot of reasons and it could have been a total stress event.  For that, I am thankful  for Bailey’s genuine love for Georgia and desire to experience it with me.  I’m invigorated by my own ability for one day to enjoy the moments instead of getting wrapped up in what could have been negatives.  Parking was a nightmare but we didn’t let it affect our day.  It was hot and we were sweaty and getting burnt as time moved on but we rolled with it.  Bailey never lost her composure.  We allowed an inferior opponent to go toe to toe with us in our stadium in our home opener but in the end, we won.  And whether by 2 or by 40, it shows up as a W.  And so does the day as a whole.  It’s a day that I will remember when I’m old and feeble and hopefully one Bailey will too.  The takeaway for me is to try, though I know it will be hard to duplicate, to create more days where I can enjoy the moments unfolding around me.  It’s so easy to get wrapped up in arguments, being uncomfortable or being underwhelmed by the effort of your football team.  But amid those issues, there is so much more there to get out of our experiences.  It starts with you and the people you have around you.  You’ve got to want to avoid the drama and the negativity that so many carry.  It’s not always easy but if you want to really live, you have to do it.  And yesterday, I really lived!

J-Dub

Hoop Dreams

I grew up at the absolute best time to be a basketball fan!  And I’ve been one since I can remember.  I began playing at about 11 with the RA team at First Baptist Church and last played just Tuesday night at Sherwood in our season opener for church league.  So, if you are counting, that’s 28 years of playing basketball.  That beats softball/baseball by a few years.  I love playing, watching, coaching or just shooting around.  I won’t say that it’s always come natural because I’ve had some great teachers along the way.  But I will say that I have always been more confident on the basketball court than any other sports field.

I think that for the most part, I’ve always understood my limitations in basketball more so than any other sport.  In basketball, you can beat someone in a lot of different ways.  The key is finding out what you do best and trying to perfect it.  It’s a lot like life if you think of it that way.  In softball, technology has become the name of the game.  Sure, guys are strong and powerful but it doesn’t hurt to be swinging the newest $300 bat that has been shaved down to the equivalent of a composite wafer.  Why not use a re-stitched softball while you’re at it?  Oh yeah, that happens too.  I’m not a homerun hitter and no amount of technology will change that.  But the playing field is never very even.  And I get myself into trouble more often than not trying to be someone I’m not, on the softball field.  

Basketball is a different game.  Give me a nice $100 NBA licensed basketball or one that you get at Wal Mart for $10 and I’ll make a free throw with either one (about 75% of the time).  But there is something in basketball that I can’t change.  Something I’ve always had to work around.  I’m just going to come out and say it.  I’m a short, chubby guy that can’t jump.  Read that how you want to but the 90’s movie title wasn’t off base.  I haven’t always been chubby but I’ve always been short (and non-jumping).  So, it was easy to recognize early on what my deficiencies were going to be and what I was going to have to focus on.  I was going to be a shooter, not a dunker.  I would shoot outside, not at the rim.  I would learn how to steal, not block shots.  I would perfect passing, not rebounding.  Finally, I would hone my dribbling skills because the bigs (as us short folks call them) can’t take the ball from me if I can dribble.  The other unique thing about basketball is that you can practice all by yourself so I didn’t need friends over to go shoot.

So that’s how it started and went for many years.  My backyard with a basketball was where I could be found almost any time of day for most of the year.  I practiced what I saw on TV, what my close friend Rusty was able to do and what I got beat with at school.  All the moves and tricks stayed with me and I practiced them over and over.  Some of them would click and some would never fit for me.  I used what clicked.  I would practice them on Coop or Brewer or Little Man or Munt.  They all had their own playing styles so it helped me figure out what worked in certain situations.  It was such a chess game to me and became what drove me.  I still think to this day that I learned a lot of problem solving skills and adversity training from basketball.  No matter how much you play, there is always going to be somebody that can out jump you, is faster, stronger, can shoot better or can handle the ball better.  And there were many, including the guys that I mentioned just above.  They all had certain skills I would mimic to make myself more rounded.  Brewer was tall and could dunk and block shots.  Munt was a tremendous ball handler and shooter.  Little man could defend and Coop was adept at rebounding.    They all provided unique learning perspectives.

I can remember playing every day during the summer, whether in my backyard, at The Parramore Pavillion, Westwood or Mitchell Middle – we were playing somewhere.  I was in wonderful shape.  Thus the not chubby part at the time I suppose.  We played in city leagues, we created our own leagues, we played 2 on 2, we would play 5 on 5 in the gym, you name it.  We were always playing though.  During the school year, I would rush to the lunchroom when the lunch bell would ring.  Not to be the first in line but to get to the gym in time to make a free throw to get on a squad for pickup games.  If you didn’t make the free throw, or sometimes 3 pointer, to get on the main goals, you’d be banished to the side goals to play.  I was fine either way but especially enjoyed the main goal because that was the toughest competition.  

The main goals were where I would play with Jumaine Jones (future NBA player) or Ronald Blackshear or Kelvin Hayes or Alex Carter or Carlus Haywood or Derrick Harris.  The list is much more extensive but I don’t have the room or the time.  Carlus was a giant at almost 7 feet tall but was as gentle a guy as he could be for that size.  He was great on the court though.  I enjoyed playing with him.  He recently passed away but I’ll always have great memories of camaraderie that I wouldn’t have otherwise had if I hadn’t picked up a basketball.  One of my favorite opponents at lunch was Coach English.  He would clear the court after the balls were taken up and play somebody one on one in front of everyone and we played often.  He was a very good outside shooter and was strong as an ox.  Those were good times.  I like to think I held my own against that competition.  I was appreciated for my jump shot and was never a ball hog.  

To go along with the actual playing, the game was exploding on TV and I was able to witness some of the greatest players and plays of all time.  As a teen, I saw the Fab Five play, Laettner hit the shot, Jordan beat Cleveland and, a few years later, Utah on memorable shots.  I saw players in their prime that will forever be known as some of the greatest – Jordan, Nique, Bird, Magic, Barkley, Iverson, Shaq, Malone, Stockton, Hakeem, Clyde the Glyde, Hardaway, Ewing, Reggie.  Certain events that will always stick in my mind are related to baskeball.  I remember when Magic announced that he was HIV positive.  I remember when Reggie Lewis died.  I remember when Jordan retired the first time.  Those were “where were you when” moments for me. The first Dream Team, Reggie Miller scoring 8 points in 11 seconds in the Garden, the Webber timeout – all in my youthful heyday!  Then, of course, there were the video games.  NBA Jam, NBA Live, Double Dribble, Hoops…..what a great time to be alive.  I would play basketball until my feet hurt and then get callous’ on my hands playing NBA Live with one of the greatest video game teams ever, The Orlando Magic with Shaq, Penny, 3D and Nick Anderson.


Fast forward to 2016.  I’m still trying to play and still love the game as much as I ever have.  The names have changed, the basketball card designs are fancier and I create myself on video games now but the game is still meaningful.  The Hawks just signed one of the most polarizing players in the league in Dwight Howard, Lebron just beat the team that had the best win/loss regular season record ever in the Finals, Kevin Durant just joined that team and DWade actually moved to a team I can pull for.  It’s not Jordan, Bird and Magic but I still enjoy.  The fact is that it’s a highly entertaining game, a mentally and physically challenging sport and a large part of my childhood.  My points are coming a little closer to the basket these days but I think I can still hold my own to be a short, chubby old guy who can’t jump as good as when he was 21, which wasn’t very good at all.  That jumper is still legit though.


J-Dub 

The Birthday Float

June 24 is a day I must remember every year.  I don’t want to be that husband that remembers the morning of, that its the wife’s birthday.  So far, so good – if memory serves.  I consider myself a good gift guy and always try to put in a lot of thought when deciding on that perfect bday present.  I’ve had some winners and I’ve have some humdingers.  That’s right, I just busted out the word “humdingers”!  After 15 years of marriage and a handful more of dating, the ideas have gotten a lot tougher.  There’s only so many pieces of jewelry you can buy before it gets stale.  And as adults, your wish list becomes a lot more expensive or you can just go out and buy it yourself.  So I’ve run the gambit on the birthday surprise over the years.

Last year was kind of a big one.  I was finally able to score some Dave Matthews tickets, which was a bucket list item for Alicia.  One year, we went to Atlanta and classed it up at some fancy club named “Opera”.  There was Def Leppard one year.  There was the Buckhead birthday where we went wining and dining. This year, we’ll be going to see a Fleetwood Mac tribute band at an old landmark bar in Little Five Points.  While the gift ideas are constantly evolving and I’m having to start earlier and earlier on my thought process, one constant is present every June around this date.  That would be “The Birthday Float”. 

The float consists of a group of friends, that also love the outdoors and the creek, kayaking or tubing or boating down the Kinchafoonee Creek in Lee County.  The trip usually starts at the Highway 32 bridge in Leesgurg and twists and turns down to an area behind our neighborhood just north of the Dougherty County line.  The cast changes slightly from year to year but the general core remains the same.  The Normans, Duvall’s and Shivers.  The Lambs are usually in tow but a new baby this year will put them on the shelf.  My constant compadre on the trip is Clemmy Johnny, Mi Hermano de Otra Madre.  We usually lag back a bit to oversee what’s happening and carry on our immature conversations without eye rolls from the women folk.  We also bring our favorite adult beverage mixers to help keep cool if the sun is too hot….or something like that. We also lag back from time to time to avoid the alcohol police who think maybe we’re moving too quickly through the cooler.  There is no such thing I say.  And CJ surely agrees with me.   

We also like to spend some time out of the kayak along the trip.  There is a lot to see and do along the Kinchafoonee besides kayak.  There are numerous jumping spots, from the old rope swing at the Century Rd bridge to the 30 foot cliff just before we get to our takeout point.  I still don’t know how deep it is there but I’ve tried to touch a couple of times to no avail.  There are a couple other jumping spots but the climbing is a little tougher and our coherence plays a part in whether we attempt those or not.  I do remember Michael doing a sweet flip out of a tree once that made me think for a split second that we were going to be headed to the ER.  We’ve talked many people into taking the leap from the large cliff but have never gotten Alicia to take the plunge.  Maybe this year is the year.  Shaina even did it after about 45 minutes of coaxing.  And this was after she flipped her float and lost all of her important items like her drivers license.  Sorry Shaina.

There are also some cool natural wonders to see along the trip.  There is a nice cave that leads from the creek up to the top of a small cliff that the ladies won’t let us jump from because they think it’s too shallow.  There is also a pair of Oakleys in the water somewhere near the mouth of the cave.  There is a waterfall near the end of the trip that is always a nice photo op. Depending on the water level there is also a little area of tiny rapids that are a fun change of pace from the usual slow current.  But the highlight is always the blue hole.  It’s a pretty decent sized pool of clear, cold spring water that invigorates the body and makes everyone a little nervous of being pushed in.  It’s a hotspot on the creek and usually the most populated area as everyone stops to enjoy the cool water.  It’s usually where we stop to get a bite to eat and stretch the legs. 


Of course, we typically aren’t the only species of creature on the creek, enjoying the water and sun. The most common sighting is the Kinchafoonee Creek Monster, pictured above.  He’s known to perform daring acts from any height and also occasionally shows off feats of strength by crushing tree branches in the gathering of firewood.  There are also a variety of snakes and gators.  The gators are usually less visible during the day but the snakes are more than ready to come out and dangle off of a tree limb.  You must remain vigilant when around the trees.  The quicker CJ and I get through those coolers, the less alert we are.  There have probably been lots of times where I was only a few feet from a snake and never even knew it.  It’s just the normal law of probabilities.  It’s their habitat, it’s the south and it’s summertime.  

The trip typically takes about 4-6 hours depending on the water level, how much time we spend at different stopping points and our overall pace.  By the end of the float, we are all tired, sunburned and waterlogged.  But we are also happy and relaxed.  I always sleep really well the night after a float on the creek.  The combination of physical exertion and heat will wear your body out and leave you just plain beat.  It might be why we only do it a few times a year.  There are people that do it every weekend or twice a month.  But when we take our group to the creek, we are all in and push it to the limit.  Some of us party pretty hard!  But it’s such a great time.

Alicia loves being on the water and I can understand why when I go out there.  I am typically more of a fisherman or swimmer but floating and taking in all of the surroundings is peaceful and a heavy reminder that we are living in a beautiful world.  Getting on the creek on a hot summer day with cold drinks and good friends can make all of your problems go away for a while.  And who doesn’t need that.  We usually take 2-3 big group trips a year but the one on Alicia’s birthday is always a given. I’m thankful she kept poking me to me change my stubborn attitude about getting out on the creek from time to time.  I still enjoy my cool air downtime but our trips on the Birthday Float always create memories and I’m sure this year will be the same.  So we will once again be launching tomorrow to take this excursion with our group of misfits and I am looking forward to it.  Our goals are to have fun, stay safe, enjoy the outdoors, leave nature as we find it (or better off) and see if we can find the bottom of the cooler by the end of the day.  We’ll be enjoying a nice band, good food and companionship soon for the official birthday present.  But tomorrow, we float….and dive….and swim….and love life and each other.  Happy Birthday again Alicia and I’m looking forward to enjoying another float with you!

J-Dub

Father’s Day

Today is a wonderful day for guys like me.  We spend all year quietly, and sometimes loudly, trying to guide our offspring through the pitfalls and trapdoors of the world.  Sometimes minor pitfalls, sometimes major, but the job is 24/7/365.  The pay is abysmal but the benefits are better than any other job.  I am a proud father of two daughters, 9 and 2 (almost).  I make mistakes everyday.  I question decisions almost everytime I make them.  I’m learning.  What I have learned about being a father over my lifetime though has all been thanks to one man; Dewey Wayne Shiver.

My dad is and always has been a hard working man.  A truck driver since he was old enough to see over the wheel, he has spent more than 40 years riding the pavement all over the southeastern United States.  Thankfully, while the workload hasn’t changed, the routes have become shorter and he’s home most every night.  He leaves before daylight and sometimes gets home after the sun sets but I’m sure it beats leaving on Sunday night and getting back on Friday night.  So even though it took many, many years, I had the perfect role model for work ethic.

My delay in picking up that work ethic may have been due to some of the things I was recruited for growing up.  We all had our chores and things we had to help with around the house.  Sometimes, your parents profession has an impact on that list too.  My fun list included many a Saturday, in the South Georgia heat, helping change some oil or helping change some tires or even helping rebuild something I couldn’t even identify, like an alternator or transmission. I probably wasn’t the best apprentice but I got sweaty and dirty and lost my fun Saturday.  Even worse than that though were the nights the weather decided to turn south and he would wake me up from my youthful slumber at 4:00 am to go tarp a load of lumber.  You might as well have asked me to walk on hot coals to Atlanta.  I was a pretty happy guy when the new Wal Mart was built in Camilla.  Where it now sits, used to be the the old Phillips 66, where I spent those Saturday’s and 4:00 school mornings.  The gas station is still there but where we worked is gone.  I wouldn’t trade the memories now though.

When he wasn’t working though is when the real memories were in production.  We spent a lot of time at the lake.  We had a place at Fort Gaines for most of my life.  It started out as a small camper that housed about 4 people and eventually grew into a nice place that housed as many as 10 or more at times.  No matter the lodging though, the man’s best time was spent on the water.  He’s a master at crappie fishing and was able to put us on the fish everytime we backed the boat in, which he taught me how to do also.  We even dominated the adult/child division of the southeastern crappie tournament trail for several years and our plaques remain prominent proof.  While the fishing was excellent, he had some less than shiny moments in the boat.  He once fell out of a tree trying to navigate the boat and his line in the dead of winter.  He, or allegedly his fishing partner, toppled a small charcoal grill in the boat once almost burning the vessel.  But most famously, he had a knack for putting himself on the fish and kicking the back of the boat around leaving me out to dry.  He claims he did not do this and even over corrected in the latter years of our fishing excursions.  

Though there were hilarious moments, the ones in the boat pale in comparison to some of the gems that were later memorialized in a video me and my brother made for him one Christmas.  A lot of them inside jokes, a lot of them just plain embarrassing.  He spewed Pepsi all over his front windshield in a coughing fit.  He slipped while pushing the trash can to the road and tried to eat the can itself.  He yelled from one grocery aisle to the next, “Pam, these yo weinies?”  He had multiple, now infamous, spats with customer service reps leading one such confrontation to end with my dad’s friendly advice that the clerk “may as well work in the panty department and maybe he would actually know something about them.”  Good times.  

Of course, we had our rough patches too.  I was not the best student growing up and usually went half speed when asked to do something.  I also went through my fair share of lawn mowers while blindly running over everything possible in our yard.  I backed into my moms car in our own driveway.  I almost smashed my uncle, his brother, playing with levers on his big truck while the cab was open.  I tried to decapitate myself when I was a wee tot.  I dove down a flight of stairs yelling “yee haw” in what I’ve only been told was a horrendous audition for Dukes of Hazard.  So, when you look at it that way, he’s taught me patience and faith.  I don’t know how else you explain either of my parents surviving my 18 years at home.  

Amid all of that though, he still taught me how to play baseball, how to fish, how to collect baseball cards, how to stand up for what’s right, how a marriage works (when things are good, bad or you’re on the road all the time), how to do the right thing and how to catch a good afternoon nap.  The list is too long to outline in its entirety but it’s very comprehensive.  I’ve never met anyone who was so committed to living the right way and treating people (with the exception of the occasional Sears personnel) with respect.  I’ve learned how to be a good person from my mom and my dad.  If I can live up to half of their example, I’ll be satisfied.  Nowadays, my dad is no longer the stern disciplinarian he was when I was a kid.  He’s a big ole teddy bear with Georgia and Bailey and lights up whenever they are around.  They will never question whether their Dew Dah loves them.  That’s one more lesson that I am learning.  Take care of the people that mean something in your life and let them know you love them.  Thanks Dad for all you’ve taught me and continuing to take care of us even when we’ve grown up and started our own families.  Happy Father’s Day and I love you big guy!

J-Dub

The 15 Year Vacation

Alicia and I just finished our cruise celebration of 15 years as husband and wife.  Our first vacation as a couple in several years.  The last 9 have included the kids for at least some duration with the focus on each other being secondary.  This year we planned our own so we could celebrate surviving the last 15 years of love, dedication, anger, pain and hard work.  Let’s just say it was quite the rousing success!  One of the best times I’ve ever had and it was just us for 5 straight days (and counting), with a few new friends introduced along the way.  We didn’t know if we could handle each other alone for that duration after all these years but we’re both adorable so we made it.

Our cruise was a 5 day out of Tampa to Grand Cayman and Cozumel.  It was also our 4th cruise with Carnival, if you count our senior cruises, which were separate and definitely not as fun for me.  At any rate, the trip to Tampa was fairly uneventful, which is how I prefer most road trips.  We made several stops and actually arrived at the terminal about an hour earlier than we had planned which is pretty unbelievable considering our track record.  We were able to get on board without much incident and found our cabin pretty quickly as it was on the same deck as the entry gangway, another first for us.  Of course, it wasn’t all that simple as we got to our room to find a couple of bunk beds and a rollaway.  A quick check of the paperwork on the desk of our cabin revealed that the room was intended for a family of 5.  A detour run over to guest services got it cleared up and we kept the room.  Not sure what happened to the family of 5 but I assume they were in a room with a king bed and needed additional amenities.  We quickly moved on from that hurdle as it didn’t take us long to find the icy drinks!  My choice for the week was the Hurricane Wave and Alicia’s was Miami Vice.

Our first full day at sea was action packed and rather restful at the same time.  We didn’t rise early enough for regular breakfast but thankfully, they had something perfect for us, appropriately named “Late Risers Breakfast”.  We had perhaps our most memorable “run-in” at this breakfast.  There was an omelette bar that ran into a buffet.  If you didn’t want an omelette, you just kind of meandered towards the middle of the line and got in somewhere along the buffet.  It was a little chaotic.  Well, it got even more chaotic when a lady decided she would meander to the buffet line but also grab her an omelette without going through the line….right in front of us.  Everyone knows that Alicia and I are yin and yang in the matter of public confrontation and where I may take a moment to consider all outcomes, Alicia tends to react with emotion.  As Alicia instructed this unfortunate woman how lines in normalville worked, she had the nerve to say “If you’ve got your omelette, you don’t worry about me.”  I calmly placed my plate down and began searching for the nearest lifeboat because I knew a hurricane was brewing.  Luckily, only minor position jockeying and territory marking ensued.  After some laughs at the insanity of the whole thing, we were able to continue on our day which included napping, eating and the occasional blackjack hand.  

The end of our day was the highlight as we attended one of the funniest comedy shows in history.  Manny Olivera is one of the funniest riffing comedians I’ve heard and I’ve heard a lot of them.  His standup lacked a bit but when he engaged the audience, he slaughtered them!  I don’t even know if it’s fair to say the standup was lacking because the audience engagement may have just been so good, it made the standup look that way.  Either way, he had a second show on the final day at sea and word had gotten around because the Punchliner was “standing room only” for his closer and it did not dissapoint.  Seriously, quite possibly the highlight of the cruise ship entertainment. We also met Kat, the English comedy club manager that saw us off the boat at our excursions and on the last day as well.  She did very well as the comedy booker.  Also, Lauren from Alabama, who reminded me of Holli from Albany (only in appearance though because Holli would have been able to withstand the comedy barbs), was also a highlight in the comedy club.  This was just an innocent 18 year old girl that came to enjoy a comedy show.  She sat in the front row and was swiftly introduced to the adult world in a way I don’t think she was prepared for.  Oh, Lauren from Alabama.

Our next day was our first port of call – Grand Cayman.  We didn’t have an excursion planned for this one but we knew we wanted to go to the beach.  We followed some advice from fellow shipmates and just flagged a taxi to 7 Mile Beach, which wound up costing us a total of $16 round trip versus the $75 per person the ship was going to charge.  Of course, there were some additional bells and whistles the cruise line offered but all we needed was sand, sun and water.  And we got it for around $20.  We also got an informative and comedic taxi ride of 12 people in a mini van.  The water was beautiful, clear and cool and the beaches were unbelievable.  We also did a bit of shopping for the kids and made it back to the ship in plenty of time for another nap and dinner.  Naps were a common theme of our vacation without the kids.  I miss quiet sleep.

The next day was our second port of call and our big excursion.  Prior to the cruise, Alicia had researched the things to do and we wanted something a little different.  We went with the Amazing Secret River and it was worth every penny!  The taxi over to the mainland and the wait for a missing family (not really missing) placed a little damper on the day as a whole but the excursion was unreal.  The visit to Playa Del Carmen was a nice surprise and it was a good bit different from Cozumel, which we had been to before.  We traveled through the city and into the jungle to explore a 22 mile cave system that had a river running through it.  Cold, blue spring water under ground in the dark and surrounded by bats, silence and 8 new friends made this one unforgettable.  The pictures for this one will follow later as we were not allowed to take our own cameras.  We have a couple of photos on a cd that highlight the beauty of this underground wonder.  We also met Veronica, a recent grad from a university in Mexico, who was starting her career in a field that she had a tremendous amount of passion for.  I saw a lot of guides for this excursion but we couldn’t have had a better one than Vero.  She glowed all day and obviously cared about what she was doing.  It was refreshing to see.  Needless to say, we were worn down by the end of this day and dinner was swiftly followed by sleep.  And game 7 of the Western Conference Finals.  Yeah!

Our last day at sea!  Always bittersweet.  Tired but sad that it’s ending.  There was so much we were able to do but so much more to see and take part in.  We missed the game shows and the hairy chest contest and the lido deck fiesta!  We didn’t miss each other though.  We spent each moment together, awake and asleep, and it was like turning back the clock. it was something we both needed.  We do like being around each other for extended periods after these many years.  We also made some new friends.  

Dinner is always a special time on a cruise because you get placed at a table with 8 other strangers and you have no choice but to get to know them over the week….or skip supper.  We didn’t miss a single night and had a blast with our table.  Mark, Jeanna, Chris, Krystal, Robert and Nesi were all Georgian’s so we hit it off great!  And Wilson and Norma were both from Tampa but originally from Ecuador and the Dominican Republic, respectively.  We saw them on a couple of trips off the boat and thoroughly enjoyed hanging with them as well.  We all gelled and shared stories and food and drinks over several nights in the Elation dining room.  One day we’ll have to plan a reunion and invite Ben and Sara, who we met on our last cruise.  That would be a good time!

Our vacation isn’t quite over as we are slowly making our way back home while fitting in some kayaking and swimming in springs in Florida but we’ll soon be back to reality and will be lost in the day to day grind that is life.  We’ll both be pulled in different directions as we take care of the kids, the bills and Alicia allows me to play softball.  We’ll have some days where we do little more than pass each other in the hall like a couple of cabin stewards trying to keep the ship sailing smoothly.  But we’ll have each other and these memories.  We can look forward to another 15 years that will be similar in ways but likely much different than the last 15.  I guess that is a part of the big story though.  We have to take advantage of the times we have together, just us.  We started this journey a long time ago and we have half our lives ahead of us, God willing.  Here’s to the next 15 Alicia.  I love you!


J-Dub

No Do-Over’s

We’ve been down this road before but I think about it often I suppose.  Today, it was brought to my attention in a FaceBook post.  There was an article in The New York Times about a Tumblr blog called “The Last Message Received.”  It’s a feed created by a 16 year old girl that has hundreds of people submit entries containing the last text or voice mail or actual words spoken to them by someone that meant a lot to them.  It’s quite gripping at times.  It’s not all about people who have passed away either.  There are some best friend fallouts, breakups and parent/child scuffles among others.  Along with the text is usually a brief description to give some backstory to the text.  As with anything in today’s social media world, authenticity can come in to question but assuming that most are accurate, some of them can really put you in your feelings.

It got me thinking about some of my own last moments with people over the years.  We didn’t have text messaging when I was in high school.  (We barely had telephones, right Z?).  But I still have some pretty vivid memories of the last time I spent time with or talked with someone that meant something to me and then they were just gone.  Some of the last moments were written on the wall and some of them hit me out of the blue.  In either case, it really puts some of our daily interactions and conversations that we take for granted in perspective.  We don’t go through our daily routine thinking we might be having our last encounter with someone but it can happen in an instant.

I was fortunate to have many friends from many walks of life in high school.  But there is one friend that spent life from 5th grade through 12th grade with me. We spent weekends at each other’s houses.  We would hang out after school.  Of course, we also had plenty of classes together.  I remember some cool times with him.  His step dad was a DJ for a radio station and one Saturday we got to “spin some records” on air, which was awesome.  We went fishing, collected baseball cards and rode his motorcycle around his big yard.  In fact, we used to time each other to see who could make the fastest lap.  I didn’t have a motorcycle so he was more experienced.  When I would shift the wrong way, I’d want to try and start over and it was always, “No Do-Over’s”.  He once convinced me to watch “Lost Boys” when my mom had explicitly instructed me to avoid the horror movies.  It was his house where I first tried the “Bloody Mary” in the bathroom mirror gag.  It didn’t work.

Some time late in our senior year though, things took a turn.  We both were headed in different directions and had separate sets of friends.  Even our mutual friends had chosen to go with one of us or the other.  At times we were pretty nasty with each other.  The last real conversation I remember having with him was out in front of my house.  Pretty sure we didn’t hold anything back that day.  I think we both still liked each other but didn’t like that we weren’t the same people we were when we were friends.  We both dispised that other people were now considered our best friends and being teenagers made us overly sensitive and emotional I suppose.  After that conversation, that was it.  I don’t remember seeing him much after that.  I’m positive we didn’t talk after that.  Like really talk, something more than a nod or hello.  

A couple of years shy of our 10 year class reunion, he lost his life.  He was actually in the hospital at the same time a family member was in the hospital.  That was how I found out.  I was flushed with emotions and thoughts about how our lives wound up.  I was remorseful about the way our friendship ended.  I kicked myself for being an 18 year old toolbag.  I cried for a lost friend that hadn’t been a friend for 8 years.  I’ve thought often about what I could have done differently or how I could have made amends.  I even remember thinking that one day we would fix it when we both grew up and matured.  I never got that chance and I regret it.  I think about him more than I ever imagined I would the day he left my house, our friendship in ashes.  Truth now – I miss him.  I miss the fun we had and the things we had in common.  I’ll never know if we would’ve patched things up and become friends again.  But it hurts knowing that it’s impossible now. And it hurts that I never got to apologize to him for my part in the demise of our friendship.

In life, sometimes, there are no do-over’s.  You make a decision, you say something, you walk away and that’s it.  There’s no going back later and making amends.  Sometimes it because you’re stubborn or prideful.  Sometimes it’s because the person you walk away from doesn’t want to talk to you again.  Sometimes, in a worst case scenario, that person isn’t around anymore for you to patch it up with.  All you are left with is memories and regret.  Regret can eat you up inside.  It can make you question your own character and you’re own intentions.  But when you can’t discuss matters later when you have cooled off or grown up, it’s what you’re left with.  And it stings at times.

You’d think that this is a grand lesson to learn and grow from.  It is and it enters my mind at the strangest times.  But I still say things I regret.  I still write people off.  I still try to end an argument with a zinger.  We all do.  It’s human nature to try and get the last word in an argument.  You just never plan on it actually being the LAST word.  But in reality, every word we say could be our last.  We are not in control.  We don’t get to decide when it’s over for us or for anybody else.  In that, we don’t get to end a conversation or a visit with the assumption that it’ll all be ok tomorrow when we get some time apart.  

I am probably perceived in a lot of different ways by peers, co-workers, Facebook friends and even followers of this blog.  Some of that is my own doing and some of that is just perception.  I’m probably seen by some as a little emotional or sensitive at times.  I won’t run from that.  Part of it comes from this life lesson.  I got to sit down with my Grandaddy and tell him that I loved him and I would miss him.  He was gravely ill and his time was up.  We knew it.  I didn’t leave anything unresolved.  But that’s rarer than we think.  We probably picture ourselves on our death bed at an old age saying our goodbyes and clearing the air one more time.  Odds are, it’s not going to happen that way.  Although I have a long way to go, I’d prefer and am trying to avoid leaving things unresolved.  That’s where the emotion and sensitivity comes from.  Because in real life, there is no courtesy foul, no erasure, no cut and retake.  So if I enjoy hanging out or talking or playing softball or Cornhole with you or beating you in bowling, I’m going to let you know.  It might seem overbearing at times too. But I feel like I better tell you when I’m thinking it because as my old friend would say, “No Do-Over’s.”

J-Dub

Coach At Heart

  I have always enjoyed the strategy involved in sports.  Jocks get a bad rap for the most part when it comes to the “dumb” stereotypes. While there is certainly a difference in common sense and being a polished thinker, sports takes a surprising amount of brain power to master.  I have made up for quite an underwhelming amount of athleticism by being sports smart.  I’m 5’10, corn-fed, slow and can’t jump.  Wow, that sounds even worse than it did in my head.  Even with all of that working against me, I’ve managed to enjoy several sports throughout my life and continue to play in my late, late 30’s.  I’m no superstar but I’m content with my abilities.  I’ve done it by knowing where to be, what to do, how to exploit my opponents weaknesses, learned from mistakes, understood my limitations and maximized my strengths.  I’ve seen so many super athletic people struggle because they don’t use their melon.  That has led to a real passion for coaching.  I can’t get my own body to do it so I tell someone else how.

My first foray into coaching was with Uncle Greg in the Newton Women’s League.  Anybody who remembers that league will probably shutter at the very mention of its name.  I learned some very important lessons during this first experience.  There is a lot more to coaching than just practicing, setting lineups and managing the game.  There are personality conflicts, distractions, inter-league drama, hurt feelings, hurt players and multiple egos to manage.  That season was a tough one to navigate and it was an eye opening experience.  I realized that if I really wanted to be a successful coach on any level I was going to have to develop a thick skin and be tough but fair at the same time.

My second venture was RA basketball.  This was really fun.  After all the years of playing with Coop in the backyard, I became his coach along with Dino Radja and several others that I had grown up with.  Unlike baseball or softball, you can get creative with play calling and scheme in basketball that makes the pace of coaching more difficult.  In baseball, you can put your players through reps and situations but ultimately, your game day plan is less flexible than in basketball.  This coaching experience taught me how to adjust quickly and recognize and exploit matchups.  

Later, I tried my hand at football with some rec league action.  I coached the defensive unit on a 10 year old football squad.  In addition to being a different sport than the two above, the introduction of 10 year olds as players created a very unique experience.  At that age, you aren’t teaching plays as much as you are teaching the basics like tackling, offsides, face mask penalties and what not to say in a huddle.  That was when I realized what sort of impact I could have on a player though.  Kids that age look to you for guidance.  There are no egos, no motives, just kids learning the game and having fun.  Our defense was stout that year.  I’d like to take the credit for that but I was helped by a stud defensive player who happened to be the younger brother of one of my oldest friends from school, Joel Jackson.  Joseph Jackson was a beast among the league and was responsible for leading that defense.  I can still see him in that gold helmet he wore.  He will always be one of my favorite players.  He passed at a very young age and was taken entirely too soon.  RIP young man.

In 1999, I got my big break.  While watching another great season of Mitchell-Baker football, I met Coach Rodney Bullard, assistant football coach and head baseball coach.  He graciously decided to give me a shot at assisting him at the varsity level and leading the JV team.  First, a little about Coach Bullard.  While there have been many coaches I have looked up to and admired, Coach Bullard has had the most impact on my coaching life.  I’m obviously not a full time coach but still dabble here and there.  I learned principals of coaching from him that have carried me along every step of the way.  A truly genuine human being who loved the kids and the sport above any personal recognition he ever received.  He was an excellent ball player himself, playing infield and pitcher at Bethune-Cookman and is found in various areas of the NCAA record book.  I couldn’t have asked for a better coaching mentor.

That season was one of the most fun sporting experiences I’ve ever had.  It started with a coaches clinic in Atlanta where I got to spend a few days with all of the coaches around Georgia and even met the head coach of the Georgia Bulldogs at the time, Ron Polk.  We then went through winter practice and began assessing our team.  We were not blessed with numbers but we had a team of gritty players that got along well and enjoyed playing the game.  At the time, the 7th-8th grade team consisted of Mike Lamb, Jeff Henderson, Eric Snow, Jeremy Lowery, Brandon Marcus and others that I was able to periodically snipe to play on my JV team.  I believe Eric and Brandon played most of the year on that squad.  Varsity included Narada Kelson, Bobby Sharp, Jamie Ross (E6), Corey Gibson (Sad Dog), Shane Staines, DK Grissom and Shauntay Walker among the group.  I spent every day of the week with these guys and developed a special bond that still leads to hugs and handshakes today when I see them.  They each had unique characteristics and were great kids to be around. 

Early in the season, Coach Bullard threw me into the fire.  We traveled to Seminole County to play the Indians and very early in the game, Coach Bullard and the umpire had a bit of a disagreement that led to one of his only ejections of the year.  As he passed the dugout, he just looked at me and said, “it’s your time, I’ll be on the bus.”  Up until this point, I had coached first base and called a select number of pitches.  That changed quickly as I found myself in charge of the entire show.  I think I actually needed that early in the season because it gave me a tremendous amount of confidence.  I’ve always wondered if Coach Bullard did that on purpose.  There are other cool memories that I still have of that season almost twenty years ago.  I remember Shane hitting a home run in Brooks County, Shauntay walking home down a long dirt road late one night after an out of town game and a 6’6 behemoth named Josh Dukes cracking my forearm with a foul ball in Cook County.  That one really hurt.  I was kneeling at the opening of the third base dugout in my usual spot to call pitches.  DK was not known for his overpowering pitches as much as his pinpoint control and movement.  Dukes got around early on a change up and ripped a screamer at the dugout that no one could have gotten out of the way of.  SMACK, right to the forearm.  Still one of the worst pains I’ve experienced on the baseball field.  

I experienced some pain off of the field that season as well.  I had a brand new pickup, all decked out with a sound system and rims.  One season of hauling baseball players around with steel spike cleats and it was nicked up all over.  I was even able to identify two suspects who took my truck to the store during a JV game thanks to spike marks on the inside of the door.  Remember that Narada and Shane?  One of the coolest guys I met that year was Derrick Silas.  He was our equipment manager and we became friends almost immediately.  While he was our equipment manager for baseball, he was also a 6’6, 300 pound offensive lineman nicknamed “Big Show”.  It was quite comforting going into enemy territory knowing that Big Show was there and had my back.  Derrick was a great guy and went on to play college football and later turn to coaching himself.  

The experiences I learned from during that year have had a major impact on who I am today.  I still have my love for coaching today and take any opportunity to jump on a sideline or in a dugout.  Coaching is a rewarding experience, win or lose.  So many sports lessons can be applied to our every day life.  If coaches do their job, the rewards are immense regardless of final scores.  Never has my coaching experience been more meaningful to me than my meeting Zibby last year.  All of the years of coaching led to being able to provide something to someone that needed it at just the right time.  It also led to me and her becoming great friends.  Coaching has provided me with a lifetime of friends and memories.  And it has provided me with a lifetime of situational motivation. Sometimes when I am having a stressful day and I feel like everything is working against me, I can go back to that game where I stepped out to the mound to calm Sad Dog down after some wild pitching.  I remember looking him in the eye and telling him that none of what had happened mattered anymore.  This was now about him and Bobby playing catch.  Nothing more.  No fans, no batter.  Just him and his teammate playing catch.   

 That’s life isn’t it?  None of the past matters.  What matters is the here and now.  When you focus on having fun with the person you are with or people you are surrounded by, that’s what makes you happy.  It’s easy to get discouraged in life.  We have to learn from each moment of each day.  We have to get better, we have to improve.  We are really only competing with ourselves from yesterday.  We win and we lose but we get better every day.

We Are…..Mitchell-Baker

  In our modern world, “Normal” is subjective.  But as far as the 80’s and 90’s are concerned, I had a pretty normal childhood and teen years.  Born and raised in Camilla, Ga, I lived in the same town for the first 20 years of my life.  In addition to that, I went to the same school system from kindergarten to graduation.  There were three schools in our county when I was growing up.  There was Westwood, a private school in the neighborhood where I grew up.  I had a lot of friends from Westwood.  Munt and Nut were some of my closest friends and we spent a lot of time hanging out at the Parramore Pavilion.  I even married a Westwood graduate.  Then there was Pelham.  My parents taught me the old adage, “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”  I will say that Corey and Jared graduated there which is conflicting for me.  I love my family but they are better than that.  Oops.  I kid, I kid.  Let’s be honest though; there was one school that was above all the rest.  Times have changed – the number of schools have grown in our county and my school has even split back into their own seperate counties.  Other schools can be great too.  Bailey is a Lee County Trojan now and I am very proud of that.  But for my generation, there was one king of the hill and that was Mitchell-Baker High School!

I started the eighth grade at M-B in 1990.  I didn’t really know what to expect with this being the first year with the big kids.  Seventh grade was shifting from class to class with the same classmates between about five teachers.  The day changed but the faces were always the same.  M-B was a whole new world.  I was going to be in classes with all ages, change teachers each semester and most of all was going from the top of the athletic food chain to the very bottom.  And at that time, sports were my number 1.  There’s really nowhere else to start than the athletic legacy of the Eagles.  I saw and played with some of the greatest athletes in our part of the state.  Uncle Greg first went through the sports world and I watched his various teams dominate.  The football team in those days was led by James Jackson, who after being a state champion, went on to a 19-9 record as a starter at the University of Georgia.  He was the original “Thrilla from Camilla”.  I say original because there have been some that have walked in his footsteps.  

My eighth grade year at M-B was also the senior year for the greatest athlete to walk those halls, Al Pinkins.  Al was an imposing 6’6 football, basketball and baseball player that dominated everywhere.  He won the state title in football and basketball in the 89-90 season and backed it up with another basketball title in 90-91.  He had the distinction his senior year of holding the all state, all classification records for passing yards in a season, passing yards in a career and touchdowns in a career.  He also scored 21 per game in basketball and hit north of .450 in baseball.  Strong!  He spoiled me early as a football fan and our football team as a whole during my 5 years at M-B was an amazing 55-9 with another state title earned in 1992.  Al was a good bit older than me but I did have the privilege of sharing the baseball diamond a time or two with his younger brother Torrie, more affectionately known as “Skinny”.  I played little league, pony league and later, a little high school ball with Skinny.  My uncle’s Speedy and Larry drafted him every year in pony.  I’ve played hundreds of baseball and softball games in my life and I have NEVER seen or played with a more talented player than Skinny.  I can still see him throwing runners out from his catcher position while never leaving his knees.  Not to be outdone, the youngest brother, Dondrial, also starred in football at M-B, later playing at USCe.  He was after my time so I did not get to know him or Al like I did Skinny but they were the most talented set of three brothers I’ll ever meet.

Suffice it to say, while I love football, I was a small fish in that pond at 5’10, 165 lbs (you read that weight right).  A game in PE in the eighth grade squashed any hopes I had of playing football as our flag squad lined up on offense against Voster Gilbert, Joe Morgan and Derrick Keaton.  Just all state, all AJC kinda guys.  Those guys were flying around that field and were huge!  I was young and impressionable and I think I made up my mind right then and there that my career would stay in the front yard on Laurel Lane.  I miraculously managed to catch a touchdown pass in that game and I should have kept the ball forever.  There were some great football players that came through that school while I was there.  I can’t name them all but names like Jake Rackley, William Barnes, Michael Johnson, Joe Jackson, Vass and Voster  Gilbert, Artemis Wesley, Joe Morgan, Josh Baggs, Pee Wee Keaton and many many more!  My love for football came early and honest.  I was and still am very proud of the football my school put on display.

Basketball was equally dominate at M-B.  The basketball team amassed 5 state titles in the 90’s, 2 during my M-B days.  That was thanks to some great athletes but, most of all, thanks to one of the greatest administrators and basketball coaches to ever grace the court, Rufus McDuffie.  I loved Coach McDuffie and still admire his body of work and the way he went about his job.  Our football staff was unbelievable but Coach McDuffie will always be #1 for me. He was a hell of a ping pong player too.  As mentioned though, we also had our share of talented basketball players too.  And unlike football, I played a tremendous amount with and against these guys over the years, so I had firsthand knowledge of their abilities.  Kelvin Hayes was one of the best guards I’ve played against in my life, along with Dominus Johnson and Derrick Harris.  We had twin towers in my class too with Carlus Haywood and Alex Carter.  Both of them were in the 6’10 range if I remember correctly.  My senior year, I met the greatest baskeball player to grace our court.  I didn’t know it at the time and he would hone his skills over the years after I left but Jumaine Jones would become the new Thrilla from Camilla, claiming three state titles and then going on to star at UGA.  He also had a very solid career in the NBA and overseas.  I threw alley-oops to the same guy Allen Iverson would later throw them too.  Hey, me and AI have that in common.  Jumaine might even tell you that mine were better if he remembered me but I doubt it.  I’ve certainly left some great athletes out but only because I have to move on.

I mentioned ping pong in the previous paragraph.  This was a major deal at M-B.  Everyday at lunch, the gym filled with basketball players and ping pong players that spent their time with these hobbies as opposed to eating or hanging in the courtyard.  There were two ping pong tables on either side of the basketball court and the line that had “next” would be full 3 minutes into lunch.  Coach McDuffie was a mainstay but so were some of the guys I still hang out with.  Barry Collins and Robby Phillips won more than their share of matches in those days.  This was no joke.  There were guys spending their shop periods cutting, sanding and personalizing their own ping pong paddles for these battles.  

In between all of the fun of basketball, ping pong and football, we also had classes.  I remember C-Hall as the English/History/Economics area and D-Hall as Science and Math.  I think A or B-Hall only had the band and one classroom but it was one of the best.  Ben “Butch” Bateman had his English class on that hall.  He was one of the coolest teachers in M-B history and still teaches at Westover as far as I know.  I knew Butch as much as one of my best friends stepdads as I did a teacher.  Josh Haire was one of my best friends from middle school on through high school and I spent many days and weekends at their house.  Butch was also a DJ at the radio station in Pelham and I got to see him spin records from time to time.  He was even the voice of the Eagles football broadcast.  Like I said, the man was cool.  There will be more stories about Josh to be written at some point, but Josh, David Shook, Brewer and I spent most of our high school lives together.  We were all kind of different but the same.  Me and Josh shared music and movie interests while me and Shook shared sports interests and me and Brewer, well, just read my previous post, “Old Friends“.  

Back to the teachers.  I had quite an array during my high school years and I’ll bet that most of them have moved on from either M-B or teaching.  My first English teacher, Mrs. Kendricks, had a flare for the dramatic catch phrases such as “I want it so quiet in here you could hear a mouse urinate on a piece of cotton.”  There was Coach Luckie, the D-Coordinator and History teacher.  This guy could have been the teacher on The Breakfast Club.  Mr. Banks was a chemistry teacher with very old school methods.  Senor Bryant was the third Spanish teacher we had in a span of about 2 weeks as we ran off the previous two.  He was a one of a kind.  Mr. Woodham, Mrs. Bishop, Coach Stabler, Mrs. Mills, all classics.

 The class of ’95 saw some great times and lived a pretty good high school life if you ask me.  I spent my entire school life with some of the same friends.  Jason Lee, BJ Harris, Joe Jackson, Dedrick Thomas, Tavis Cole….I think I had a class with that group of guys every single year from Kindergarten through 12th grade.  Jason and Joe were even a part of the brief game in which we attacked each other with fanny packs – and we were friends!!  The fun playground games sure have changed over time.  The list of great people from those days is endless.  I met new friends at M-B too that I now call family – Eron and Barry.  I keep up with a lot of M-B friends on Facebook and we will always have a bond that ties back to that great place.  We may live in new places and have new friends but we will always be Mitchell-Baker Eagles!