Author: gshorkeyblt2

I celebrated Memorial Day a week later than most, because I arrived in Charlotte 19 years ago on June 1, leaving upstate NY after a final NYC holiday weekend. Tercel packed to the gills and my trusty Miyata 12 spd. on the back, I emerged from the Holland Tunnel into a thundering hail storm, made a bad decision getting off 81 before Ronoake, and took part of Tues. cutting across southern Virginia futilely trying to catch *something* to get me to Charlotte.

Anyway, 19 years, and here’s how I’ll always remember my terrific nephew and Blackhawk helicopter pilot Lt. Curtiss Shorkey from that day before: he wouldn’t give me a hug goodbye, and I 100% understood, ‘cuz I get teary thinking about how bad my leaving made him feel. At 38 I had plenty of previous exits, but that five year old I loved the best (I maintain a favorite is granted aunts and uncles, whatever the rationale) touched me that deep from really early on. He is genuinely liked by everyone I’ve ever met, a straight-shooter you KNOW would do the Right Thing in any imaginable situation. If I ever get married, he’s the guy I want standing next to me, even if its just because that uniform *always* makes for a better picture.
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I spent a quite satisfying final week of the month knocking out sales goals with Jack, and as they say in Charlotte, from Thurs. on “we was gettin’ us some gravy,” to go with a Nautica bonus we’d already qualified for. Ended up $10,000 over budget, but the bonus is on total, so we sopped us up a mess of gravy. I’m always willing to help the economy when there’s a bit of extra cash, and I guess it’s definitely time for a new basketball, even if that wonderous ‘J’ of mine is no more…

Besides putting head down and producing, I’m reasonably pleased with having put WRITING in front of alternatives several times this week and invested ‘extra’ hours in developing my second book. That I sell a copy a day of my FIRST book, ‘CARDS & CONSEQUENCES: Return of Marlena the Magnificent’ is part of the deal, but doing that creative process again engenders a lot of hopeful enthusiasm.

I’ve regarded situation at MSER (Major SouthEastern Retailer) as ‘cash cow’ and BPBPJ (bill paying, benefit providing job), but having physical copies that people are willing to give me $18-20 for, that counts for a lot in the Bigger Picture. Like they always tell musicians and actors, “don’t quit your day job,” and while I continue searching for more appropriate uses for my organizational talents, putting some meat on the bones for Book #2 was a good use of Memorial Week-19th anniversary. I enjoyed an outstanding dinner at Miro Spanish Grille with b-day girl/manager Anne on Sat., couldn’t have asked for a more empowering finale than to know I will get to take it off my taxes too. I’ve got my personal days off arranged for later this month so I can fulfill commitment I made to So. Carolina HOBY organization about getting a childrens read-along book project to completion, and on Memorial Day, when we admire commitment just a little more, I’ll try doing all I can.

With thanks to my own uncles and Dad for their past service: Donnie (Air Force), Howard (Marines), Dad and Harold (Navy). While I always remember Curt, I know my cousin Frank Ball has a son in the Navy he’s exceptionally proud of too, so kudos there. I had opportunity to give a military person a 10% discount the other day, and I believe we should all take every small thing we can do and affirm that we know and give thanks for what they do for us. I saw a short note while scrolling on FB the other day: If you don’t support our military before and after a war, you don’t support the military, you support war. ‘Nuff said.

Oh, except that the working title for next book is, 3rd Time, Lots Less Nice.

Glenn S.

As a soon to be published ‘real’ author, I’m obviously excited about holding my first book and feeling the solid proof of accomplishment. Not that I’m lacking pride regarding all the bylines I’ve accumulated over the years, or that knocking out-articulating in writing a blog for others to agree or perhaps just say hmmm… about doesn’t float my boat, BUT…

I don’t believe I’m the only one that feels this way, but a book somehow marks your passage in life as a writer. No matter how many times I mentioned I was a writer, one of the first two inevitable questions was, “Have you written a book?” With kudos to the Grantland Rice’s or Jim Murray’s who cranked out more sports articles than there are drunken, nearly naked sophomores on a Spring Break beach, ‘CARDS & CONSEQUENCES: Return of Marlena the Magnificent’ means I’m definitely not a wanna-be. It’s not ‘War and Peace’,’Sister Carrie’, or ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ literature, but its as I envisioned it when I began, and whenever somebody takes it to the register, I’ll get a confirmation I did something worth while.
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Mom’s surprise 80th birthday at the beginning of the month (actually a week earlier, which was the surprise) was one of those moments every son I know wants to tell people about, because in a very real way it DOES prove you’re a Good Person and you love your Mom a lot more than they can ever put in a Hallmark card.

Two other brothers from Charlotte and I (the NY guy was already there) arrived in Tampa after 1:30 a.m., woke her up, let her go back to bed, then had a houseful of people to greet her when youngest bro Dave returned with her from a seashell exhibit in St. Pete later in the afternoon. When they pulled up in front of the house, I heard Mom say, “Oh, now I get it,” because Dave had been telling her all week the guy next door was going to have a party, and had asked about people parking on her property. She cried and hugged people all the way to the door, and if it seemed a little silly at times that we were congratulated for doing something so special when I kind of assumed anyone would WANT to do that for their Mom, in my heart I know she’ll remember it until she really doesn’t remember anything.
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As for the MSER where we peasants will generally be getting back to 35 hr. work weeks after *three full months* of budget-straining skinny checks ($460 for two weeks can keep a single guy with no mortgage, kids in school, or car payment going, but anything extra, sheeee-it!), it only took ONE very helpful recruiter to listen to me explain my resume and say, “I’ll rewrite it a little so you can see what a recruiter is looking for,” to restore my confidence about getting out of retail in the near future.

Having achieved that career event of ‘first book published’ and gotten nearly 20,000 words into the next, I’m looking forward to the marketing challenge of selling those 65 units I self-published, doing a book signing at Maggiano’s, having a friend say, “You were right, reading this DOES go great with a couple glasses of chardonnay.” Getting to break-even (only 150 copies) is a legit mark, as is 1,000 units, and maybe a royalty check bigger than my BPBPJ (bill paying, benefit providing job). It all seems more possible now, and if my NCAA bracket picking brings a return on my $20 investment, I’ll take that as another positive.

Friends and people from work keep saying, “Good luck with your book, and I’ll be able to say, ‘I knew him before…'” and that sounds REAL damn good to me.

Glenn S.

I had the opportunity to offer a little brotherly love to someone (we actually had two ‘5th Brother’s) who is facing the rough ride to the end for a mother with Stage 4 pancreatic cancer.  Just throwing a couple significant texts counted, but the difference between that and two of my real brothers and I driving to Tampa for a week of vacation at my Mom’s/her surprise 80th is as different as it gets. It reminds me how grateful our family felt last year, when my Dad died from congestive heart, because there was minimal pain; in on Sunday, I was of service on Monday, the end was Tuesday.

I got out to shoot some hoops yesterday, the first of what will be be 11 days away from BPBPJ (bill paying, benefit providing job) in retail, and it was gloriously warm.  There was a guy shooting at the other end of a neat little pocket park on Craig St., and as I’ve told a lot of people, these are the easiest double rims in Charlotte– most doubles are a little ‘hot’, and turn many good shots into ‘shoulda had’ misses. Not here though, it can stay on the rim and wind up in. It’s a convenient zip up the street, and the nets are high quality, and yeah, that counts even more than having the 3-arc well-marked.

‘The O’ was always about cranking it from long range in our back yard, like barely in front of the birch trees on the extended pad side, or one step in bounds from taking it out kind of bombs, where people GAVE you the shot and looked for a rebound. Actually, shooting from that side allowed taking advantage of what a good ‘home court rim/backboard’ can do for you: the bank shot didn’t have to be perfect to score. If he ever threw a fake on you and got even a three-foot closer clear shot, you were in for a *whole* lot of crapola from anyone present; Dave wasn’t exactly tall or swift, so mostly he’d shoot threes. He also got the Norm-treatment like in ‘Cheers’: “Oh no, It’s the Big O!” which for sake of accuracy, is for Ornston, and the sound of his echoed dribbling up the street like clockwork at 5:35, because that was when Shorkey dinner was generally over and the basketball court reopened, is a part of my growing up.

Dave’s Mom, Lillian, and mine were great friends for many years, garage sales, coffee, just talking in the street. First time I saw Dave he was riding a bike half-way up the block while she watched him from the front porch, and I got better at tennis because it seemed his Dad’s, Bud, help and lessons meant he’d keep beating me if I didn’t. While Dave had a rim at his house, we played more Risk and chess there– with four boys, we had the largest court and highest probability of getting a game, at least one-on-one.

One thing I’ve never forgotten is how both his Mom and Dad kissed him on the head whenever he was leaving the house. I don’t know if that’s Jewish custom or just Mom/Dad affection, but I reminded The O to get one of those kisses soon, because it doesn’t have to be the last kiss that you’ll go forward with and remember.

I’ve also decided to accept that I am now a full-time set shooter– the guy with the long J is done. I’m expecting we’ll day trip to see him next week, maybe we’ll even find a court. ‘The O’ took a train across Florida for the sake of paying respects after my Dad’s passing last year– that’s what having extra brothers is about.

Glenn S.

Having read the most recent, well, through this mornings trashy but definitive measurements of self-medicating self-enhancement, I admit to being stunned about what there could be left to fight about or admit regarding Alex Rodriguez. I found just the *constant* flogging of the upcoming ’60 Minutes’ interview MORE than I wanted/needed to know, the regimen followed clear. Where is there a shred of DOUBT about what transpired in any reasonable mind?

That’s kind of a baseline reading of facts. The guy didn’t just ‘juice’, he lived the whole life. But sueing your freaking UNION, that’s where I think the trolley has gone off the tracks. My brother Dave caught a couple wildcat strikes while working for GE after getting his MBA, but even beyond protections granted by contract that allowed irresponsible behavior by a 20-man walkout, A-Rod is operating in a rarefied air of narcissism. This is what they call ‘dead bang guilty’ folks, and this guy is sueing the only group–even though they clearly hate his guts– that HAD to watch his back on certain issues.

In a lot of places in the world, there’s a willingness to admit that keeping a mad/crazy dog around just isn’t right, and yep, ya’ gotta do sumpthin’ about it. I’m not talking a double tap in middle of the street, but any changing of number of games suspended is moot: while there will almost inevitably be an on-going wrestling at the fringes of this saga, A-Rod is mostly toast. If the Yankees get out of paying his salary during suspension, I find myself cheering for the possibility, just because it’d be one more stick it! moment for the poster boy for Arrogant.

I’ll take everything down to the bottom line. After a conversation that included invoking baseball writers *not selecting anyone last year*, and fact Pete Rose’s overwhelming hit record vs. betting on own team as not worthy of Hall of Fame standard, A-Rod is as close to the HoF as either of us is going to get. I felt zero compassion for Raphael Palmiero, after his finger pointing in a Congressional hearing, about “I have NEVER taken…” and then testing positive. A fine hitter-contributor for many years, Palmiero’s the early favorite for getting dissed by selectors based on Steroid Era stats. Bonds, wow, thats going to be a hot potato, but as to A-Rod and Rafe, like Joe Pecci in ‘My Cousin Vinnie’ says, “I’m done with deez guyz.”

Rodriguez and lacking any doubt that *nobody* is going to give him a contract AFTER this suspension, I don’t care any more than I do about the (druggy) Tour de France, although truthfully, I do find the dramatic, exhaustive, even superhuman effort involved there worth writing about. There ya’ go Alex, you rank below bicycling in the Pyrennes.

Glenn S.

This has nothing to do with todays blog, but its almost Christmas, and I know my Mom, myself, and all the rest of us miss my Dad lots. Dad wrapped up in a Carolina Panthers blanket three years ago after Steve’s oyster roast is memorable, because Mom was thrilled about first white Christmas in 25 years, Dad just kept saying “I’m cold.” It’s 71 here today, I’ll think about him on my bike ride.
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From beginning to end, last nights Saturday Night Live! Christmas show was an ultimate reminder of why we’ve continued to try watching it during 30-plus years, when it wasn’t that good and often seemed just a vehicle to run commercials. Give Justin Timberlake and host Jimmy Fallon’s multiple appearances as much credit as you want, the major difference was shorter, punchier skits, one’s that didn’t go 5 minutes before a weak exit.

(W)rapper skit as intro was cool, Robin-Barry Gibbs talk show with Madonna and Congressman Paul Ryan characters was okay, even if some of Fallon’s jabbering got lost. Family Feud with Fallon as ‘Big Bangs’ Sheldon and JT as Fallon was fast and relevant, the 89 point answer to “What makes a man sexually exciting?” being Justin Timberlake, with a knowing wink from the man himself, spot on. The entire female cast as hotties singing about desire to get it on back in their childhood bedrooms was sterling! and Weekend Update bang-bang-bang funny, with Fallon acknowledging passing the baton to his late night show to Myers and NYC Mayor Bloomberg’s straight-faced, “I’m just looking forward to a small soda and hanging out on a non-smoking beach” understated and righteous. Oh, that China’s moon rover was searching for a place to put menus was the zap! stuff we remember fondly.

A ‘Christmas Story’ skit that showed Scrooge as clueless about being gay watching Past wasn’t overlong, a dippy one of Chloe Kardashian and Kanye okay, Fallon’s sexual take on classic ‘Baby its Cold Outside’ terrific. Musically, Timberlake was superb with a laser show-fast footed jamming first set solo, interesting in a personal guitar and string orchestra backup second. Really, everything to like about the newer cast members and a great memory about why you have to at least check it out if you’re home between 11:35 and 1 a.m. on a Saturday night. Talented as JT and Fallon are though, I have to wonder where the HELL writers who could knock out a funny skit have been for most of last two decades.
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On a totally unrelated front, we’ve been crushing it sales-wise since that Charity Day fiasco. My last two days production were $4200 and $4415, which counts towards after Christmas paycheck. Customers do ask how things are going, and my eagle eye view on economy from register level says while heavily discounted product has been an obvious pull, people aren’t as scared as they were in Sept. Maybe there’s still a prospect the country DOES go over a cliff when budget negotiating opens in early 2014, but a lot of people will have their ‘stuff’ for the holidays.

Glenn S.

Don’t get me wrong, after a highly enjoyable, 35-person strong family Thanksgiving, I made it to MSER (major Southeastern retailer) job at 3am with a knee brace and sand wedge cane, my ‘knee injury’ the result of an awkward misstep going to an oyster table. According to coworkers, Vineyard Vines of course, there’d been a decent first 3 hrs. after 8pm opening, but I did about $400 before going home at 7:30am. Jack *CRUSHED* it, knocking out $11,000 Friday from 7a-7p. Saturday was a walkover victory, and bonus on $74k month final total is second time in a row.

I’m still all negative about opening T’giv evening, but people ARE spending money…Good generally and for my specific ‘commission mission’, but $$ in the door vs. ‘just’ employee distress raises the spectre of *Christmas opening*, and someone will kindly shoot– uhh, how about ‘plug’?–the first ivory tower dips–t that dares to mention that. I don’t expect to be involved in another go-round in retail anyway; getting decent feelers about contract communications specialist has me optimistic about changes early in 2014.
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So good to see DUKE winning 10 games and getting into ACC title game–even against the 1980s level of high-voltage Florida State offense they’ll see in Charlotte. Having had the opportunity to talk with several Duke players during their excursion before bowl game last year– especially a pair of running back twins and the explosive Sneed–it was actually another player that told me quite sincerely, their team loved playing a bowl game as a marker/judgment of what they’d accomplished, which was going from nowhere to, well, a bowl game. That player had nothing but positive expectations for what another year would mean for all of them, because they’d taken the first big step.

It’s a small, special feeling to know you saw ‘it’, were there for the beginning of what all those kinda-like-me-of-yore athletes (a little bigger, not 6’7″ 344 lbs. bigger though) should be congratulated for. I’m not a Dookie, but as wild as Auburn’s return for TD finish was, or Michigan’s gutsy ‘go for two and victory’ loss was, notching ten Ws, a chance for a conference championship and maybe more represents a brilliant moment in their athletic-personal lives. yay!

Glenn S.

‘Bill Paying, Benefits Providing Job’ is the shorthanded acronym in title, and after a profoundly satisfying sales day Saturday ($7300+) that might be reflected in next Friday’s commission vs. just hours check, I’m smiling at how a major Southeast retailer’s (MSER) best day ever can become a half-disaster and bite it in the arse.

After cranking my own production at $1000/ hour level from 6am-2:00, I put Nautica department into great shape even before Jack got there for late shift, and the Vineyard Vines people killed it; guy who managed to transfer there from Suits a couple months ago was glorying in a $16,000 day. Retail really is a helluva lot more fun when you’re filling bags, reducing ALLLL that merchandise on tables, or, if you’ve kept your numbers decently close during some *really* lousy recent weeks, looking at possibility of ‘getting out of the hole’ commission-wise. The kicker for me was, everything that many of my retail compatriots/’accounting hour payroll units’ and I discussed about system blowing up came true.

Under almost any circumstances, Best Days Ever can cause logistical problems, like God-sent rain that goes beyond healing parched ground to powerful flooding. In the run-up to its semi-annual big-bigger-Bestest Sale, my major Southeastern retailer employer wound up having to pack pods– at the FAR END of our mall– with customer pre-sales. This massive success comes just after *another* (and confusing for many) major sale, and most importantly, one week after average full time employee hours (35-36) were trimmed down to minimal 31. The ONLY explanation possible for such a reduction was corporate greed, the willingness to pick thousands of employees pockets just because they can.

Don’t think for a SECOND that didn’t blast to the forefront of my brain-Attitude when, at the end of eight hours slinging it large yesterday, management made it known ANYBODY could have AS MUCH OVERTIME AS THEY WANTED if willing to help with (essentially) the unhappy mob wanting those products they’d set aside for almost two weeks from those pods NOW.

In text language it would look something like: 😦 u gt 2 b fking kdg!

That MSER has used clipped hours (4x this year) and minimal staffing– until recently when a bunch of inefficient part-timers was added– without regard to how it affected the Loyalty that strong organizations are built on. Experts agree that keeping good/happy employees who help customers are the best assets for a company, but when you turn that on its head–Company first and damn the hind end– you don’t DESERVE loyalty, and customers will catch that one way or another. Knowing I’d had a heckuva great day on numbers, even got one of those All-Important credit applications, saying no thanks! to obviously unpleasant overtime was a no-brainer. Don’t just say, “Employers are treating everyone like that now,” and expect that to salve any wounds. “What goes around comes around” is legit.

The Panthers are on a streak, Cam seems to have his head on properly, and with defense putting up a consistent show of strength, they go cross-country to take on the 49ers, who are more than tough at home. Panthers win this one, the talk of playoffs will definitely be more than a whisper. For a football team’s season, that ‘Winning cures’ axiom is a fact. With the family gathering killing spectre of a *still unannounced to the peasant masses, at least in schedules, 8 pm opening on Thanksgiving*, that MSER might not be looking at a full team effort to keep the winning rolling.

Glenn S.

Possessing an eagles-eye view on the economy from register level, I *guarantee* there has been a massive puckering of the consumers collective wallet the last two weeks-plus. Yes, it has to do with the bullshit on budget.

Straight fact: Our Nautica location with a major Southeastern retailer made it to $20,000 sales for month three Sundays ago, then didn’t hit $30k until this past Fridays results. That’s just Nautica production, but two guys, 12 days to $10,000– it’s a straight line cause/effect from where I’m looking.

There’s been *plenty* of time for exchanging POVs with unbusy associates and certain customers, but instead of railing about ransom demands and dumbasses who keep saying, “Well, they (Dems) have to negotiate!” that makes me a bit crazy, this sports situation struck me as what the ‘Not Totally Looney Tunes’ members of House GOP need to consider looking for.

Fulfillment of duty and intestinal fortitude

Rugby is a tough game. Most shorthand descriptions use ‘football without helmets and pads’ and there’s definitely lots of hitting/tackling. There aren’t constant substitutes–15 players a side, you are both offense and defense, runner and tackler, usually for 40 minute halves. Forget the forwards, those 8 guys with heads tucked up tails and grinding on each other – probably in mud – most people visualize as rugby. (Nothing to do with The Play, just some useful basics)

The MUST About Kicking

There is kicking too.  A grubber is a ground kick, there are ‘up and unders’ (like a golf wedge) and of course, longer football-like punts downfield. The crux of this analogy, re: what Repubs HAVE to do in this specific financial-idealogical meltdown, is that the fullback *HAS* to catch the ball, even when it hangs just too damn dangerously long and he’s gonna get DRILLED by a wing or inside center. The only other possibility is kind of a ‘fair catch’ requiring simultaneously catching the ball and yelling ‘Mark!’ while digging a heel into turf.

The fact is, you’re usually told to start moving even if you’ve done it right, because the guy coming at you might not know or care about the rule. I wasted a *REF* playing a ‘B’ side game once myself, had to laugh at his keg comment about anticipation of hit, respected the fact he took it. My receiving experience on such a kick was the end of my first season, catching an extra game at fullback for a college side (Siena). That collision was the closest I ever got to being concussed–I’m not absolutely sure I wasn’t. Going over my handlebars at maybe 2 mph and face planting on a parked car (4 stitches, 2 cap teeth, ER ride$, dented flashing around cars rear window) was a similar crushing experience.

THE RUGBY PLAY

THE PLAY was, I couldn’t be a weenie and let the ball drop – that just wasn’t an option. When Boehener finally puts a bill up – *without the ransom demands and extra craziness, JUST the bill,* thats when every Congressman has to watch the ball hang against a gray Saturday afternoon sky and – because voting Pass/In favor of/whatever budgets and spending limits determines whether this country gets totally fked over by 40 crazy people – decide they’re willing to take the hit. They simply can’t fake caring, or relatively speaking, whiff on the situation because they don’t like the possibility of an expensive challenger next (2014) election time.

Make the right play guys– don’t be weenies, catch the ball and accept whatever the hit is. With ruggers its a mark of pride to take a whack and talk about it at the drinkup afterwards. But you’ve GOTTA make the play. The country, the world awaits what happens next.

Glenn S.

Having the opportunity to discuss rugby over several days with a 20 year old “I’m better than you” nephew while on vacation and then two middle school ruggers (and moms) at work– I guess college guys always think like that. As long as they’re both willing to catch some of the lore a cagey veteran like me can dispense though, stories are how ruggers learn the really good stuff. I warned the kid, whose already played U-13 level, about mentioning injuries to others– EVERYBODY likes telling their best injury stories, and its actually a badge of honor.

For his Mom, I underlined a fact about rugby while he tried clothes on, specifically how I talked to him because he was wearing a team shirt. He’s now part of an International fraternity, a group where you’ll find somebody almost anywhere talks to you for exactly that same simple reason.

Of course your young guy loves rugby–its tough, elemental, all-in guy (and gals) competition. Once those props up front tap each other in confirmation before a scrum-down, a referee says “Engage!” and groups of eight try to shove each other around. Your guys move the pile, thats proof you’re better–keep being physically better, you usually win.

I remind Moms that rugby tackling is much safer on the knees because tacklers must attempt to circle arms. Roll-blocking a dude isn’t allowed, so its your choice about putting your head near someones knees to tackle them correctly. lol Moms always cringe at the sound-memory of their child getting whacked because that ain’t pads cracking, it’s junior making that sound. Thinking how much street and pickup football I played as a kid, I still think I’d have liked scholastic rugby–being part of a team always counts.

I’m proud of how concisely I showed the Alexander Graham rugger my favorite tackle/move–only took about 25 seconds to explain. For all the story telling that is rugby’s stock in trade, getting a point across (“We lost 30-4, but we beat them 4-0 in a tournament the next Spring”) is best done without the embellishments.

The ‘prime directive’ in rugby is basically guy with the ball goes no further, especially when you’re in open field. If you fall for runner with ball faking a pass or kick, they can do it again later down the field, so stop that guy first. Often a runner stops when faced with a tackler, offering the ball to following players. Mauls and rucks are situations that usually develop there. MY MOVE as a 1-1 tackle, was to lift the guys right elbow so he only had one arm holding the ball, then *lift and turn* him towards MY people. Chances are they can get it loose from him, I block any of his guys because of offsides rule (and yeah, there are actually rules. That other crazy stuff you’re thinking about is Australian Rules football) and it sends a signal when you just PUT somebody where you want them.

The kid got it immediately, Mom asked if I coached, and I said no. Right down to brass tacks, last December my doc at OrthoCarolina told me I had an 85-yr. old knee, that his was only half as messed up when he got a replacement YEARS ago. I stopped wearing a neophrene sleeve last year because it gave me a false sense of support, but after recognizing I wasn’t doing coaching or a bunch of other things because I was constantly thinking about that wussy knee, yesterday I bought a $40 knee stabilizer (Shock Doctor) with flexible stays and velcro straps top and bottom. A 25 minute shooting session at pretty good local pocket part on Craig St. later, I was soooo happy talking to those recent ruggers finally pushed me to fix myself, back to guy who liked being a coach-athlete.

This brace fits like a glove, makes an injury better than its felt since the Saranac Lake Tournament of ’86, when that Maryland Olde Boy dove into the knee because my foot was planted at the goal line to meet his charge. Sure there’s a story that goes with that! but its really about Harvey, his wife cutting loose on tequila, and not making any friends because–with elevation and ice bags–I couldn’t leave the tent when they, ahem, arrived home.

Oh, and I let Spencer know that relative to his being better, the reason I played inside center (and eventually flyhalf, very similar to QB) was because I both passed well and picked up my flyhalf’s tackles.  (Spencer overcame getting teeth knocked loose in HS to play D-1 rugby at Delaware, but passing still doesn’t occur to him all that much.) I gave him a HULK body shirt– he likes clobbering guys– but that probably won’t impress him as much as the first time that elbow-turn tackle works for a 13 year old…

Oh, Panther prediction is 9-7, and Cam gets his new contract before Halloween.

Glenn S.