There were few wrestling fans (or wrestlers) in my circle of friends in Huron, S.D. We all seemed to follow basketball and football, and, of course, baseball. There was very little discussion about sports like wrestling and hockey.
That all changed for me when I started covering sports for a living, back in the late 1960s. I can very clearly point to the time when I started to love wrestling: covering Vern Tate's Huron College Scalper team, led by stars like Bill Ehlers, Gary Keck, Randy Donovan and my fraternity pledge brother, Jerry Pickinpaugh. Covering HC's wrestling duals was a special event, especially in the Huron College gymnasium, aptly named "The Pit." The wrestlers on this team had to love performing at home, in an old-school gym that still had the stage and overhanging balcony. The better for HC fans, mainly students, to stick their legs through the railings, virtually hanging over the wrestling mat. Their boosting was so impressive that wrestlers like Pickinpaugh were known to smash their head into the wooden doors in the gym as they "psyched up" for a match. That was "before" they took the mat.
The scene with the fans igniting a fire under the wrestlers was literally enough to make the hairs stand up on your neck. I can vividly recall going my first matches. No expert at wrestling to be sure, I was nevertheless hooked by the atmosphere. Though I didn't know a takedown from an escape, I loved being in a place that was so ... competitive and exhilarating. What more could you ask on a Friday or Saturday night? Fans were screaming "NEXT!" as each successive Southern Pointer or Dakota Wesleyan Tiger took the mat.
HC was virtually unbeatable at home, and over the years, Tate's crew rolled up impressive NAIA statistics.
After covering this spectacle, it was quite a bit less exciting to watch high school matches in the cavernous Huron Arena. But I loved it just the same, and over the next several years, I was able to cover high school championships and duals at the Arena.
I don't remember, but looking back, I must have been initially apprehensive about covering something like wrestling, which I knew nothing about. But it didn't take long for me to not only love it, but to heap praise and appreciation on young men to go out on the mat. It can't be an easy sport to master. Wrestlers often describe their early years as "looking at the lights," a way of telling people they found their way to their backs. It's a sports where very few excel before failing. In that failing, if you want to call it that, they learn. On example of that in my coverage years was Scott Dubbelde, a great wrestler who developed into a state placewinner in his last two years. In the years leading up to that, Scott learned humility as well as confidence and rose to the top, winning a state championship, not an easy thing to do in any state, let alone Minnesota, one of the best wrestling states in the country.
The more I watched wrestling, the more I admired these young men who often cut weight and practiced in rubber suits, all the while knowing they probably weren't going to be state champs. It certainly had be difficult for family, i.e. moms, watching their son take a crossface or seeing him get caught in a double arm bar. But that's how they learned, and how good coaches led them to make proper decisions on the mat. I am still, after all these years, no expert at wrestling. But I enjoy watching my beloved Minnesota Golden Gophers and each year at this time, try to envision them winning the NCAA team title to go with the national dual title they've won for two straight years. Maybe this will be the year.
Fodegraphing
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Monday, February 20, 2012
The lost has returned ... again!!
Well, I did it again: I took off several months, apparently with little to write about. But I figure, what with all the technology in the world today, my handful of followers didn't miss much.
Hopefully, I can do better.
I am at the computer today still trying to process the death of one of my best high school friends, Rex Crawford. It was about a week ago that I received an e-mail from Loren Lounsbury, who maintains probably the best high school website in the country, that "we had lost another classmate." When I clicked on the link supplied with the brief message, there was a photo of Rex, just as I remembered him from high school.
For the next 15 minutes, I sat at the computer and stared at the photo, not believing what I was seeing. Today, a week later, I'm still having hazy memories of good times we shared when we were nearly inseparable for two or three years. My main memories are of playing basketball on the driveway at his home, where he not only honed his considerable skills, but came up with trick shots which constantly bulldozed me and others at HORSE. When we chose sides for pickup games, He delighted in dribbling the ball through MY legs as I was trying to play defense, dashing past me to field his own pass for a layup.
And then, the big "Chipper" laugh.
As a sportswriter for these 35 years, I loved to cover players like Rex, who made themselves successful through grit and hard work. While others may have had as much talent, he parlayed tremendous inner drive and hard work into varsity letters. Some said he couldn't do it, but he proved them wrong. I know it was a different time, but I doubt many high school juniors and seniors are setting up baseball games after school. I think it was the constant work he put into even these pickup games that make him a favorite.
Off the court or the diamond or football field, Rex was a friend. He picked me up in his green Falcon every day for school, following up by picking up Daryl Walz and Rick Wahl. In some ways, we were the four musketeers; somehow I got in there despite my having no athletic ability. But it is the friendship, the good times, that I cherish the most. Unfortunately, it is the way of the world that you move on from these days. The last time I talked to Rex (to my recollection) was around 1974 --- 38 years ago!! It is equally unfortunate that it takes something we never thought about in these days --- death or our advancing age --- to bring all these memories back, and to make us wish it could have been somehow different.
My sympathies go out to Rex's family, and to all the families of classmates who are gone. Like our high school years or not, they are our history. But when things like this happen, it all seems like it was just ... yesterday.
Hopefully, I can do better.
I am at the computer today still trying to process the death of one of my best high school friends, Rex Crawford. It was about a week ago that I received an e-mail from Loren Lounsbury, who maintains probably the best high school website in the country, that "we had lost another classmate." When I clicked on the link supplied with the brief message, there was a photo of Rex, just as I remembered him from high school.
For the next 15 minutes, I sat at the computer and stared at the photo, not believing what I was seeing. Today, a week later, I'm still having hazy memories of good times we shared when we were nearly inseparable for two or three years. My main memories are of playing basketball on the driveway at his home, where he not only honed his considerable skills, but came up with trick shots which constantly bulldozed me and others at HORSE. When we chose sides for pickup games, He delighted in dribbling the ball through MY legs as I was trying to play defense, dashing past me to field his own pass for a layup.
And then, the big "Chipper" laugh.
As a sportswriter for these 35 years, I loved to cover players like Rex, who made themselves successful through grit and hard work. While others may have had as much talent, he parlayed tremendous inner drive and hard work into varsity letters. Some said he couldn't do it, but he proved them wrong. I know it was a different time, but I doubt many high school juniors and seniors are setting up baseball games after school. I think it was the constant work he put into even these pickup games that make him a favorite.
Off the court or the diamond or football field, Rex was a friend. He picked me up in his green Falcon every day for school, following up by picking up Daryl Walz and Rick Wahl. In some ways, we were the four musketeers; somehow I got in there despite my having no athletic ability. But it is the friendship, the good times, that I cherish the most. Unfortunately, it is the way of the world that you move on from these days. The last time I talked to Rex (to my recollection) was around 1974 --- 38 years ago!! It is equally unfortunate that it takes something we never thought about in these days --- death or our advancing age --- to bring all these memories back, and to make us wish it could have been somehow different.
My sympathies go out to Rex's family, and to all the families of classmates who are gone. Like our high school years or not, they are our history. But when things like this happen, it all seems like it was just ... yesterday.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Baseball fan? You have to visit this museum!!
A few weeks ago, we visited B's Ballpark Museum near Coors Field in Denver. If visiting Fenway Park earlier this summer was a religious experience for me, so was visiting B's.
It goes without saying that Bruce Hellerstein, an author and the curator of the museum, is a man after my own heart. In his small and cozy museum is a literal treasure trove of memories for not only the avid baseball fan and historian (me) but also the more casual fan who goes to the ballpark for fun and realizes this is just more than an afternoon's fun.
Baseball is America's national pastime, and Bruce has captured this and more is a museum that may be Denver's best-kept secret. When my son and I went to a Rockies game on Sunday, we made our way to the B's Ballpark Museum (which at 1940 Blake is a half-block from Coors Field) if only to see Bruce's smiling face. There he was, greeting visitors. It was troubling to me that fans were heading to the nearby ballpark without going into the museum. I told one or two fans to check it out: "It's amazing," I said to a couple that had stopped in front of the building.
Inside fans will find undoubtedly the finest collection of Denver Bears memorabilia that exists. But Bruce, a lover of the game and its past, has also assembled an incredible collection of memorabilia honoring ballparks of the past, like Forbes Field, Tiger Stadium and others. The coup de grace: a room featuring some heart-stopping relics from Brooklyn's Ebbets Field, where the Bums played 60 years ago. There on the wall is a light fixture from the main vestibule of the stadium; on the ceiling an Ebbets Field light. In the corner, a chair that Jackie Robinson and the rest of the Dodgers used at Ebbets.
A few feet away --- one could miss this --- is the sprinkler fixture that Mickey Mantle tripped on in the 1951 World Series against the New York Giants. It features an NY logo and must have been the Cadillac of sprinklers in those days. In another nearby corner is a collection of rare ballpark seats from places like Crosley Field, Sportsman's Park and other long-gone stadiums. Like me, I realized, rather than collecting items of only one team, his theme is baseball's glorious past and its history.
Needless to say, I didn't want to leave and even asked Bruce about volunteering at this wonderful place of magic. You'll hear more about that later. It will be worth a regular trip to Denver if I can just brush up against the past in such a way.
It goes without saying that Bruce Hellerstein, an author and the curator of the museum, is a man after my own heart. In his small and cozy museum is a literal treasure trove of memories for not only the avid baseball fan and historian (me) but also the more casual fan who goes to the ballpark for fun and realizes this is just more than an afternoon's fun.
Baseball is America's national pastime, and Bruce has captured this and more is a museum that may be Denver's best-kept secret. When my son and I went to a Rockies game on Sunday, we made our way to the B's Ballpark Museum (which at 1940 Blake is a half-block from Coors Field) if only to see Bruce's smiling face. There he was, greeting visitors. It was troubling to me that fans were heading to the nearby ballpark without going into the museum. I told one or two fans to check it out: "It's amazing," I said to a couple that had stopped in front of the building.
Inside fans will find undoubtedly the finest collection of Denver Bears memorabilia that exists. But Bruce, a lover of the game and its past, has also assembled an incredible collection of memorabilia honoring ballparks of the past, like Forbes Field, Tiger Stadium and others. The coup de grace: a room featuring some heart-stopping relics from Brooklyn's Ebbets Field, where the Bums played 60 years ago. There on the wall is a light fixture from the main vestibule of the stadium; on the ceiling an Ebbets Field light. In the corner, a chair that Jackie Robinson and the rest of the Dodgers used at Ebbets.
A few feet away --- one could miss this --- is the sprinkler fixture that Mickey Mantle tripped on in the 1951 World Series against the New York Giants. It features an NY logo and must have been the Cadillac of sprinklers in those days. In another nearby corner is a collection of rare ballpark seats from places like Crosley Field, Sportsman's Park and other long-gone stadiums. Like me, I realized, rather than collecting items of only one team, his theme is baseball's glorious past and its history.
Needless to say, I didn't want to leave and even asked Bruce about volunteering at this wonderful place of magic. You'll hear more about that later. It will be worth a regular trip to Denver if I can just brush up against the past in such a way.
Buck ... we hardly knew ye ...
I have been a big Blue Oyster Cult fan since the 1970s, probably falling hard with the "Agents of Fortune" album in 1976, that due to "(Don't Fear) The Reaper." Over the years, I have accumulated all of their albums and even brought my 24-year-old son Christian along. I recall telling him BOC's tunes could rival those of his favorite group, Metallica.
So, when we learned BOC would be coming to Greeley on July 1 --- just in time for my 59th birthday --- we scooped up tickets and began to wonder what their set list would be. I admitted to being excited to seeing Eric Bloom and "Buck" Dharma, the two 60-something aces of the Cult, the masters of many quirky songs and outrageous guitar riffs.
Unfortunately for BOC fans like us, the Cult was not the headliner this evening. Cheap Trick, a rock group from a slightly different era and genre, was. Hence, we just got settled into our seats, reveling in "The Reaper," "Godzilla" and "Shooting Shark" when Eric Bloom was waving goodbye after a 45-minute "concert." Hopeful of hearing some of our favorite underground rock, we were disappointed. But not unhappy. Because Bloom and Dharma and the other bandmates succeeded in convincing us that the group is anything but done, even though the guys are approaching senior citizendom. The singing and guitar work was tremendous, and the representations of the songs were straight and true. If anything, I came away more of a fan, pretty blown away by their abilities, 40 years later. I just wish it had been longer. We are hopeful of seeing them in another nearby venue when they are the headliners. I think a full, two-hour concert would be more than the bright toe-tapper Saturday's was.
The next day, my son and I took our traveling shoes to Coors Field, basking (baking) in 95-degree heat as the Rockies tangled with Kansas City on "Rapid City Day" at the stadium. Four unfortunate dudes or dudettes were dressed up as the Mount Rushmore four (heavy heads and suits), parading around in the smokin' heat. We had barely settled into our seats when Melky Cabrera hit the first of his two homers on the day, and KC was on the way to a 16-8 win. I'd like to say the Rockies were driving for the potential tying touchdown in the final quarter, but I'd be mixing metaphors, so to speak. The Rocks cut the score to 6-5 at one point, on Mark Ellis' two-run homer, but then KC exploded the next half-inning with a batrack full of bleeders and seeing-eye hits that turned into a six-run answer. It was over. Nonetheless, again, we had a great time, talking baseball to our neighbors, eating a hot dog and watching the game and scoreboard. It was a wonderful July 4 setting. For the first time I can recall, veterans (me included) were asked to stand to be recognized, and there was some fireworks. There is nothing like the July 4 holiday, perhaps since it coincides with my birthday. It was special to be in a place were people were not fighting about politics, but watching a baseball game and enjoying.
It was similar to a trip my family took in May of this year, to Boston, where we took in a pair of Red Sox games. I can attest to this: for a baseball fan, a trip to Fenway Park is a religious experience. Seeing the Green Monster for the first time, seeing the red seat in right field where Ted Williams hit a home run, sitting in the old seats ... it couldn't have been better. For two nights, we met some of the nicest people, and great baseball fans, all of whom welcomed us and congratulated us for seeing the greatest park in the majors. I couldn't argue. By the way, apparently Boston is a historic American city, so we took in some other sights as well. There's this guy Paul Revere (related to the Twins' Ben Revere?) and the Boston Harbor, and Salem, etc. Amazing and unforgettable!
So, when we learned BOC would be coming to Greeley on July 1 --- just in time for my 59th birthday --- we scooped up tickets and began to wonder what their set list would be. I admitted to being excited to seeing Eric Bloom and "Buck" Dharma, the two 60-something aces of the Cult, the masters of many quirky songs and outrageous guitar riffs.
Unfortunately for BOC fans like us, the Cult was not the headliner this evening. Cheap Trick, a rock group from a slightly different era and genre, was. Hence, we just got settled into our seats, reveling in "The Reaper," "Godzilla" and "Shooting Shark" when Eric Bloom was waving goodbye after a 45-minute "concert." Hopeful of hearing some of our favorite underground rock, we were disappointed. But not unhappy. Because Bloom and Dharma and the other bandmates succeeded in convincing us that the group is anything but done, even though the guys are approaching senior citizendom. The singing and guitar work was tremendous, and the representations of the songs were straight and true. If anything, I came away more of a fan, pretty blown away by their abilities, 40 years later. I just wish it had been longer. We are hopeful of seeing them in another nearby venue when they are the headliners. I think a full, two-hour concert would be more than the bright toe-tapper Saturday's was.
The next day, my son and I took our traveling shoes to Coors Field, basking (baking) in 95-degree heat as the Rockies tangled with Kansas City on "Rapid City Day" at the stadium. Four unfortunate dudes or dudettes were dressed up as the Mount Rushmore four (heavy heads and suits), parading around in the smokin' heat. We had barely settled into our seats when Melky Cabrera hit the first of his two homers on the day, and KC was on the way to a 16-8 win. I'd like to say the Rockies were driving for the potential tying touchdown in the final quarter, but I'd be mixing metaphors, so to speak. The Rocks cut the score to 6-5 at one point, on Mark Ellis' two-run homer, but then KC exploded the next half-inning with a batrack full of bleeders and seeing-eye hits that turned into a six-run answer. It was over. Nonetheless, again, we had a great time, talking baseball to our neighbors, eating a hot dog and watching the game and scoreboard. It was a wonderful July 4 setting. For the first time I can recall, veterans (me included) were asked to stand to be recognized, and there was some fireworks. There is nothing like the July 4 holiday, perhaps since it coincides with my birthday. It was special to be in a place were people were not fighting about politics, but watching a baseball game and enjoying.
It was similar to a trip my family took in May of this year, to Boston, where we took in a pair of Red Sox games. I can attest to this: for a baseball fan, a trip to Fenway Park is a religious experience. Seeing the Green Monster for the first time, seeing the red seat in right field where Ted Williams hit a home run, sitting in the old seats ... it couldn't have been better. For two nights, we met some of the nicest people, and great baseball fans, all of whom welcomed us and congratulated us for seeing the greatest park in the majors. I couldn't argue. By the way, apparently Boston is a historic American city, so we took in some other sights as well. There's this guy Paul Revere (related to the Twins' Ben Revere?) and the Boston Harbor, and Salem, etc. Amazing and unforgettable!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Basking at Coors Field
Or is it basking IN Coors Field? Whatever is correct, it was pretty spectacular to have great seats for the first Rockies' win of the season Saturday night, a 3-1 win over the visiting Arizona Diamondbacks. Coming on the heels of Friday's 7-6 loss, the game featured an excellent pitching effort by Jorge DeLa Rosa and offensive heroics by Chris Iannetta, who is one of the keys to the season for Colorado.
Iannetta clouted a home run off Dodgers' ace Clayton Kershaw a few nights later to account for Rockies win number two. He was joined in the home run parade by Troy Tulowitzski, who got his first hit of the season, also off Kershaw, and also a home run. It would be nice to see Tulo go on another home run tear, like he did last year, with 15 homers in the final month.
Anyway, it was great to be at the ballpark. Along with my wife and son, I watched from spectacular seats behind home plate in the second deck, on the rail. Aside from the view of the sun setting over the Rockies, I enjoyed the sights and sounds of the ballpark (all except the wave). In the old days, visitors to a ballpark were hit by co-mingled smells of stogies, beer and food. Today, with tobacco products banned from the park, the smell is mostly heavenly barbecue. Not sure who can afford $6 cups of beer, but plenty is sold.
It seems I am never bored at the ballpark. It is simply a wonderful way to enjoy a warm night, but you have to have decent seats away from unruly fans. You don't have a lot of control over this, but it's nice to be in a section with home-team fans, and especially not Phillies fans. We experienced Phillies fans last year during the makeup of a rained-out game late in the season. An early Rockies lead was wiped out by a nine-run Phillies inning, bringing out scattered and obnoxious Phillies fans. Before long, there were incidents throughout our section, with ushers breaking up the scuffles and ejecting fans. Compare that to a game late in 2009 when the Rockies came from behind on a walk-off, grandslam by Ryan Spilborghs. I counted exactly one Giants fan in the stands, and she was more of a novelty than a nuisance.
I think there will be much to watch and cheer for this summer. It was fun to be part of the first win!
Iannetta clouted a home run off Dodgers' ace Clayton Kershaw a few nights later to account for Rockies win number two. He was joined in the home run parade by Troy Tulowitzski, who got his first hit of the season, also off Kershaw, and also a home run. It would be nice to see Tulo go on another home run tear, like he did last year, with 15 homers in the final month.
Anyway, it was great to be at the ballpark. Along with my wife and son, I watched from spectacular seats behind home plate in the second deck, on the rail. Aside from the view of the sun setting over the Rockies, I enjoyed the sights and sounds of the ballpark (all except the wave). In the old days, visitors to a ballpark were hit by co-mingled smells of stogies, beer and food. Today, with tobacco products banned from the park, the smell is mostly heavenly barbecue. Not sure who can afford $6 cups of beer, but plenty is sold.
It seems I am never bored at the ballpark. It is simply a wonderful way to enjoy a warm night, but you have to have decent seats away from unruly fans. You don't have a lot of control over this, but it's nice to be in a section with home-team fans, and especially not Phillies fans. We experienced Phillies fans last year during the makeup of a rained-out game late in the season. An early Rockies lead was wiped out by a nine-run Phillies inning, bringing out scattered and obnoxious Phillies fans. Before long, there were incidents throughout our section, with ushers breaking up the scuffles and ejecting fans. Compare that to a game late in 2009 when the Rockies came from behind on a walk-off, grandslam by Ryan Spilborghs. I counted exactly one Giants fan in the stands, and she was more of a novelty than a nuisance.
I think there will be much to watch and cheer for this summer. It was fun to be part of the first win!
Friday, April 1, 2011
I've had some time to think about this, and I don't think Jose Lop ... WHOOPS! Is that Jose Lopez rounding the bases after hitting a home run (after standing at the plate and admiring it?) Yup. I stand corrected. As I was about to say, I think Jose Lopez may help the Colorado Rockies this season. But not if he stands at the plate while one of his blasts hits off the fence and he runs it into a single.
Jose's home run into the leftfield stands is one of the few bright spots in today's game, a disappointment for Ubaldo Jiminez, who won 15 of his first 16 starts last year. The lowly Arizona Diamondbacks are launching them, and they aren't standing at the plate admiring their homers. My kind of baseball. As I write this, they're trailing 6-4 and it doesn't look great for all the Opening Day fans, many of whom will likely fade into memory like the ice cream they're enjoying.
It IS nice to be talking baseball again. Hockey has been a downer, college basketball has no soul and the NBA ... forget it. So baseball is the thing right now, until football comes along (if it does). I did my annual hot dog feed (for me) on March 31 and found not much has changed. The Yankees won with the long ball, the Braves got great pitching, and today, the Astro bullpen blew it again. As the announcer said: "If the Astros start 1-7 this year, it will be an improvement over last year." That's called damning with faint praise. I am looking forward to the Minnesota Twins opener this evening against Toronto, and am still hopeful the Rockies can come back against the D-Backs bullpen.
A BLAST FROM THE PAST
I brought a book home from the library the other day, actually a Led Zeppelin history for my son, who is a big fan. Of course, I started reading it and realized I, too, am a pretty big fan. Already jealous for my having lived through possibly the greatest era of rock and roll music ever (but not jealous of my age), he listens intently when I tell him about going to The Music Center in Huron to purchase the first Led Zeppelin album in January, 1969. So sold on the new sound of this "heavy metal" group was I that I ran out a few months later and bought their second album. The first album, incidentally, grossed $7 million and the boys have never had to worry about money since.
This was an interesting era in rock and roll, going from more soft rock and roll to heavier groups like Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple and, yes, Three Dog Night. The door then opened for hundreds of other groups, which produced some incredible music for my collection for the next 20 years or so. My co-worker here in Greeley, who is a few years older than I, has at times regaled me with his stories of having seen Led Zep, Jimi Hendrix and The Who in concert in Denver. He probably doesn't remember much of it. But the music has endured. (As I write this, fans are singing to Bruce Channel's "Hey Baby" at Coors Field.This may be one of the top five most enduring songs ever and it was performed nearly 50 years ago!! If you guessed 1962, you're right.) I think it's safe to say that many of the group members from the 60s and 70s, if they have survived, wished they had taken better care of themselves, because they could still be making money today. Big money, just playing the classics. I want to be listening.
Jose's home run into the leftfield stands is one of the few bright spots in today's game, a disappointment for Ubaldo Jiminez, who won 15 of his first 16 starts last year. The lowly Arizona Diamondbacks are launching them, and they aren't standing at the plate admiring their homers. My kind of baseball. As I write this, they're trailing 6-4 and it doesn't look great for all the Opening Day fans, many of whom will likely fade into memory like the ice cream they're enjoying.
It IS nice to be talking baseball again. Hockey has been a downer, college basketball has no soul and the NBA ... forget it. So baseball is the thing right now, until football comes along (if it does). I did my annual hot dog feed (for me) on March 31 and found not much has changed. The Yankees won with the long ball, the Braves got great pitching, and today, the Astro bullpen blew it again. As the announcer said: "If the Astros start 1-7 this year, it will be an improvement over last year." That's called damning with faint praise. I am looking forward to the Minnesota Twins opener this evening against Toronto, and am still hopeful the Rockies can come back against the D-Backs bullpen.
A BLAST FROM THE PAST
I brought a book home from the library the other day, actually a Led Zeppelin history for my son, who is a big fan. Of course, I started reading it and realized I, too, am a pretty big fan. Already jealous for my having lived through possibly the greatest era of rock and roll music ever (but not jealous of my age), he listens intently when I tell him about going to The Music Center in Huron to purchase the first Led Zeppelin album in January, 1969. So sold on the new sound of this "heavy metal" group was I that I ran out a few months later and bought their second album. The first album, incidentally, grossed $7 million and the boys have never had to worry about money since.
This was an interesting era in rock and roll, going from more soft rock and roll to heavier groups like Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple and, yes, Three Dog Night. The door then opened for hundreds of other groups, which produced some incredible music for my collection for the next 20 years or so. My co-worker here in Greeley, who is a few years older than I, has at times regaled me with his stories of having seen Led Zep, Jimi Hendrix and The Who in concert in Denver. He probably doesn't remember much of it. But the music has endured. (As I write this, fans are singing to Bruce Channel's "Hey Baby" at Coors Field.This may be one of the top five most enduring songs ever and it was performed nearly 50 years ago!! If you guessed 1962, you're right.) I think it's safe to say that many of the group members from the 60s and 70s, if they have survived, wished they had taken better care of themselves, because they could still be making money today. Big money, just playing the classics. I want to be listening.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
If it's spring ...
It must mean baseball, the best of all seasons. It's such a big deal that I have planned to grill hot dogs to celebrate the opening of the major league season next weekend. My wife thinks it's kind of crazy because I will be making the hot dogs for ... myself. Me.
Actually, the season has already started. My son and I jumped in our car last weekend for a road trip --- across town where the Northern Colorado Bears were hosting the South Dakota State Jackrabbits in a four-game series. I dressed warmly for the Saturday doubleheader, although I ended up getting a neck-burn in the 75-degree heat. We had barely settled in our seats when SDSU's Zach Rhodes launched a three-run homer over the right-field fence. It was gone from the ping of the bat.
Thus began a rather rugged weekend for the Bears, who at this time last year were showcasing a power-laden lineup. However, a school decision to fire the coach undoubtedly led to the transfer exodus of several players, including one slugger who hit 18 home runs and batted better than .350 last year. Without him and other hitters in the lineup, the Bears succumbed to a four-game sweep at the hands of the Jacks. Perennially a good-hitting team, the Jacks pounded out several home runs and scored 41 runs in the four games, while holding UNC to seven runs. The three-run homer by the lefty-hitting Rhodes was part of a 13-2 win, and then, righthander Steven Bougher fired a four-hit shutout in the nightcap, 2-0. On Sunday, we watched the Bears take another 9-1 shelling. It appears to be that SDSU will field a strong team this year, with strong pitching, good defense and, of course, hitting. The Bears have a task ahead of them, but at least they appeared to be sold on hustle and effort. And there is plenty of time to get hot.
But as baseball lovers know, when you're hot, you're hot. But when you're not ... well, you're not. Two nights later, the Bears had a 3-0 lead over Nebraska in the sixth and lost, 5-4 in the bottom of the ninth when the pitcher plunked the leadoff hitter, who eventually scored on a two-out hit. Like I said, when things aren't going well, they really won't go well in this game. Every little mistake ends of killing you. Eventually, frustration enters in. There is probably already some of that; a UNC coach was tossed from the game Saturday, albeit for a stupid reason: the third-base umpire ruled that a UNC batter hadn't entered the batters box quickly enough, and assessed him a strike. The stupidest rule ever brought the coach out of his shoes and into the face of the umpire. The pointy-headed bureaucrat in blue didn't care that the offending batter was the catcher, who had to scramble out of his equipment to get to the plate.
I'd have gotten run too. And when you're getting beat on the field ... well, it's too much to believe.
About the only good thing I can report is that the inevitable mustard stain on my treasured Twins coat was airbrushed out by my wife. At that point, I was a perfect 46-for-46 lifetime: 46 hot dogs, 46 mustard spills. I haven't figured out that maybe I should eliminate the mustard.
Actually, the season has already started. My son and I jumped in our car last weekend for a road trip --- across town where the Northern Colorado Bears were hosting the South Dakota State Jackrabbits in a four-game series. I dressed warmly for the Saturday doubleheader, although I ended up getting a neck-burn in the 75-degree heat. We had barely settled in our seats when SDSU's Zach Rhodes launched a three-run homer over the right-field fence. It was gone from the ping of the bat.
Thus began a rather rugged weekend for the Bears, who at this time last year were showcasing a power-laden lineup. However, a school decision to fire the coach undoubtedly led to the transfer exodus of several players, including one slugger who hit 18 home runs and batted better than .350 last year. Without him and other hitters in the lineup, the Bears succumbed to a four-game sweep at the hands of the Jacks. Perennially a good-hitting team, the Jacks pounded out several home runs and scored 41 runs in the four games, while holding UNC to seven runs. The three-run homer by the lefty-hitting Rhodes was part of a 13-2 win, and then, righthander Steven Bougher fired a four-hit shutout in the nightcap, 2-0. On Sunday, we watched the Bears take another 9-1 shelling. It appears to be that SDSU will field a strong team this year, with strong pitching, good defense and, of course, hitting. The Bears have a task ahead of them, but at least they appeared to be sold on hustle and effort. And there is plenty of time to get hot.
But as baseball lovers know, when you're hot, you're hot. But when you're not ... well, you're not. Two nights later, the Bears had a 3-0 lead over Nebraska in the sixth and lost, 5-4 in the bottom of the ninth when the pitcher plunked the leadoff hitter, who eventually scored on a two-out hit. Like I said, when things aren't going well, they really won't go well in this game. Every little mistake ends of killing you. Eventually, frustration enters in. There is probably already some of that; a UNC coach was tossed from the game Saturday, albeit for a stupid reason: the third-base umpire ruled that a UNC batter hadn't entered the batters box quickly enough, and assessed him a strike. The stupidest rule ever brought the coach out of his shoes and into the face of the umpire. The pointy-headed bureaucrat in blue didn't care that the offending batter was the catcher, who had to scramble out of his equipment to get to the plate.
I'd have gotten run too. And when you're getting beat on the field ... well, it's too much to believe.
About the only good thing I can report is that the inevitable mustard stain on my treasured Twins coat was airbrushed out by my wife. At that point, I was a perfect 46-for-46 lifetime: 46 hot dogs, 46 mustard spills. I haven't figured out that maybe I should eliminate the mustard.
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