The Drive:
        The TO chapter in Dallas has come to an unceremonious close, which brings me back to my days in Harrisburg—and the many trips to the NovaCare Center in Philly to cover Eagles practices while the controversial wideout was a member of the birds. A couple of things I can tell you from our up-close interview sessions—the guy is a physical specimen. The only athlete more impressive to me in person was Roy Jones Jr. who was the guest speaker at the Olympic Box-Off Banquet I hosted before the Atlanta Olympics. The second thing that comes to mind…is how often the guy was in the news. We probably drove the turnpike to Philly a half dozen times or more in the span of three or four months to cover the ongoing saga that was the Eagles run to the Superbowl with TO injury, his return, and then his downfall, suspension and ouster from the team. It was probably more. No one player on a football team is worth that. Hoops, sure. One in five. Football, not so much. With 139 career TD catches and some sicko career numbers, the reflex here is to say somebody will sign the guy—again. They shouldn’t. They will, but they shouldn’t.  This guy’s middle name should be Samsonite.
 
  The Fairway:
        The Madness is upon us!  Chris Whitley’s Dread the Red chants are enough to tell me that. I don’t need a calendar.  Radford, VMI and Liberty are all alive as I scrawl this.  Great fun. It’s become a piece of Americana—hasn’t it?  The tournament, the brackets, the office pool, the stories about lowered work productivity—all the norm now.  As a Gator grad, I’ve already been treated to the ultimate endulgence—Back to Back titles. I can die happy as far at the tournament is concerned. But the memories over the years…still are burned into my brain. I remember where I was when Christian’s last shot sunk Kentucky at the buzzer. I was sick, and held a grudge against Duke for years. (I had Kentucky to win the tournament….oh well). But the best run ever—-for me involved the women’s tournament. I was the host of the Marsha Sharp show when I worked in Lubbock, Texas. She is, to those who follow the women’s game..a household name—-the legendary Women’s Coach of the Texas Tech Lady Raiders. We followed the Lady Raiders, who were led by Sheryl Swoopes—another household name in those circles—-all the way to the National Championship in 1992. From Lubbock, to Missoula Montana, to Atlanta and the Final 4—it was the ultimate Big Dance experience to watch and report on a team you know personally…win the whole darn thing. Great stuff. More later on this, as the tournament begins.

The Green:
    Where are we on this whole A-Rod deal?  This guy is more polished than my grandma’s dining room table used to be. You could have skated the ice-capades on that thing.  Why do we care? Because it’s time we all just said it.  The baseball record books are now a complete farce. The entire era has to come with astericks. The home run king needs to revert back to Aaron and Maris. The career list needs to be cleansed. Enough already, if the book is going to exist, if we are going to use it—-to measure greatness in a career—then it needs to be fixed. There—I said it. Agree, disagree, whatever. That’s where I’m at.

The Jar:
    Did you enjoy the snow?  If you have children, like me, then I hope you did what I did. Got out the sled, and tried to inject some pure high speed thrills into our an otherwise routine life, by watching my children have some real honest to goodness fun. Sledding as you get older, and more daring…can be dangerous. I hesitate to recount some of the stuff I did growing up—we were the Winter X-Games, long before they were ever thought of. But in grade school, it’s just plain fun.
Try not to tear a ligament, and enjoy the thrill. I know, you’ll be sore…but you’ll be fine…in a bout a week.