As I watch today's "Iron Bowl" football game between Auburn and Alabama, I have no dog in the fight. I don't call anybody a "Bammer" or a "Barner" and I don't walk around randomly screaming out "Roll Tide" or "War Eagle." I enjoy the Iron Bowl and understand the history and tradition of the whole event.
This time as I watch, though, I do have a team that I hope wins. It doesn't have anything to do with not liking Nick Saban or thinking that Cam Newton is playing for Auburn after being illegally recruited. It doesn't have anything to do with thinking that an Auburn win will help my team make a better bowl or hoping that Alabama gets beat again after winning it all last year.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
Ouachita....That's Wash-i-tah
Today is Labor Day, but it's also Founder's Day at Ouachita Baptist University, my alma mater and current employer. Lori Motl, a Ouachita alumna and current Director of Admissions Counseling, has put together an effort for Ouachita alums in the blogosphere to blog about their Ouachita experience. If you'd like to partcipate or read other entries, visit www.obu.edu/blogabout.
My Ouachita experience takes a few different forms.
And that results in a long blog post, so either bear with me or feel free to move on to the next link in your Google reader.
At first, when I was growing up it was the place where I had my first all night camp out -- on the lawn in front of Daniel Hall at the RA Convention. Well, until the storm started then we went into the back of dad's suburban. Pine Derby was held in the gym, what I would know later as the Lower gym or intramural courts.
A few years later, Ouachita became the place I went to summer camp, Super Summer Arkansas to be exact. For the summers after my 9th through 12th grade years it was where I grew spiritually and found a cute girl or two that lived way too far away.
During the time when I began looking for colleges Ouachita's connotation took a little bit of a negative turn. It became "the place I wasn't going to go because my mom went there."
That feeling stayed through my junior year into my senior year. I had a roommate, housing deposit, and future schedule set at the University of Arkansas. I had followed the Hogs all my life and I was getting ready to become one.
Woo Pig Sooie.
But then April of 1995 came. Technically back up to February. I was about to miss the application deadline when mom and dad called Randy Garner and we faxed an application in the day of the deadline (e-mail and online applications were not even on Al Gore's radar yet, I don't think.)
I decided to take a trip down on a spring weekend for a preview weekend that was the same time as something called Tiger Traks. I didn't know much about Traks but I knew that I was going to stay with a senior in college in his dorm room with his suite mates. How cool was that?
I was welcomed by a group of several people who were all upperclassmen. I can remember most of them: Brandon Barnard, Bob Wilson, Misty Wilson, Matt Fisher, Amy Pryor, Jeff Greer, Peter Cunningham, and others.
I had a blast and remember sitting in the car with mom and dad from 8th street looking over the Oozeball pit as we were getting ready to head home. I told mom that I had changed my mind and wanted to go to Ouachita. After offering the obligatory, "Now you know that you don't have to do it just for me," comment, I think I saw a smile when she turned back around and faced the front.
Four months later, Ouachita went from being the place I wasn't going to go because of my mom, to the place I was fired up about going to, to my new home.
It was home for 4 years. It was where I learned a lot both inside the classroom and out of it. I learned from professors like Lavell Cole, Trey Berry, Bill Downs, Jeff and Deborah Root among others. I learned from staff members like Ian Cosh, Randy Garner, Kathy Berry and my boss of four years, Mac Sisson.
It's where I gained invaluable experience in my field as a student worker. I had by-lines in regional and statewide newspapers as a freshman in college. I was on radio broadcasts for four years and working with legendary media members as a part of the Sports Information Department.
And, like so many others that it's a bit cliche -- it's where I met my wife. (Awwwww....)
I learned how to live away from mom and dad and how to budget my time -- well, sort of.
Two years after graduating in 1999, Ouachita took another form in my life.
It's been the place I work since May of 2001. I've worked in the athletic department, alumni office and development office and have encountered hundreds of alums over the last 10 years that have similar stories.
The names and faces may be different, but students who are at Ouachita today are sharing the same experiences that students from the past 124 years. These are young men and women who would make my fellow Ouachita Alumni proud. There is a heart for service and a heart for the Lord in these young men and women that make for a very bright future.
Now, Ouachita is the place that I am raising my kids. Well, we don't actually live on campus, but we're at so many things we might as well. The new dorms are nicer than what we lived in when we were in school anyway, so it wouldn't be as bad as it would have been back then.
It's the ability to have different student groups over to the house to eat. It's having my son have role models to look up to and being able to play Wii in our living room with members of the Tiger basketball team.
It's Ouachita, and it's a big part of my life story.
May we share our Ouachita stories with the world and let the world see into our Bubble if it is just for one day.
My Ouachita experience takes a few different forms.
And that results in a long blog post, so either bear with me or feel free to move on to the next link in your Google reader.
At first, when I was growing up it was the place where I had my first all night camp out -- on the lawn in front of Daniel Hall at the RA Convention. Well, until the storm started then we went into the back of dad's suburban. Pine Derby was held in the gym, what I would know later as the Lower gym or intramural courts.
A few years later, Ouachita became the place I went to summer camp, Super Summer Arkansas to be exact. For the summers after my 9th through 12th grade years it was where I grew spiritually and found a cute girl or two that lived way too far away.
During the time when I began looking for colleges Ouachita's connotation took a little bit of a negative turn. It became "the place I wasn't going to go because my mom went there."
That feeling stayed through my junior year into my senior year. I had a roommate, housing deposit, and future schedule set at the University of Arkansas. I had followed the Hogs all my life and I was getting ready to become one.
Woo Pig Sooie.
But then April of 1995 came. Technically back up to February. I was about to miss the application deadline when mom and dad called Randy Garner and we faxed an application in the day of the deadline (e-mail and online applications were not even on Al Gore's radar yet, I don't think.)
I decided to take a trip down on a spring weekend for a preview weekend that was the same time as something called Tiger Traks. I didn't know much about Traks but I knew that I was going to stay with a senior in college in his dorm room with his suite mates. How cool was that?
I was welcomed by a group of several people who were all upperclassmen. I can remember most of them: Brandon Barnard, Bob Wilson, Misty Wilson, Matt Fisher, Amy Pryor, Jeff Greer, Peter Cunningham, and others.
I had a blast and remember sitting in the car with mom and dad from 8th street looking over the Oozeball pit as we were getting ready to head home. I told mom that I had changed my mind and wanted to go to Ouachita. After offering the obligatory, "Now you know that you don't have to do it just for me," comment, I think I saw a smile when she turned back around and faced the front.
Four months later, Ouachita went from being the place I wasn't going to go because of my mom, to the place I was fired up about going to, to my new home.
It was home for 4 years. It was where I learned a lot both inside the classroom and out of it. I learned from professors like Lavell Cole, Trey Berry, Bill Downs, Jeff and Deborah Root among others. I learned from staff members like Ian Cosh, Randy Garner, Kathy Berry and my boss of four years, Mac Sisson.
It's where I gained invaluable experience in my field as a student worker. I had by-lines in regional and statewide newspapers as a freshman in college. I was on radio broadcasts for four years and working with legendary media members as a part of the Sports Information Department.
And, like so many others that it's a bit cliche -- it's where I met my wife. (Awwwww....)
I learned how to live away from mom and dad and how to budget my time -- well, sort of.
Two years after graduating in 1999, Ouachita took another form in my life.
It's been the place I work since May of 2001. I've worked in the athletic department, alumni office and development office and have encountered hundreds of alums over the last 10 years that have similar stories.
The names and faces may be different, but students who are at Ouachita today are sharing the same experiences that students from the past 124 years. These are young men and women who would make my fellow Ouachita Alumni proud. There is a heart for service and a heart for the Lord in these young men and women that make for a very bright future.
Now, Ouachita is the place that I am raising my kids. Well, we don't actually live on campus, but we're at so many things we might as well. The new dorms are nicer than what we lived in when we were in school anyway, so it wouldn't be as bad as it would have been back then.
It's the ability to have different student groups over to the house to eat. It's having my son have role models to look up to and being able to play Wii in our living room with members of the Tiger basketball team.
It's Ouachita, and it's a big part of my life story.
May we share our Ouachita stories with the world and let the world see into our Bubble if it is just for one day.
Labor Day Weekend Football Can Take You Back
It may have been about 25 years ago, but there are a lot of ways that this Labor Day Weekend was very reminiscent of a fall weekend when I was growing up.
You see, when I grew up there wasn't a football game on every channel every day of the week. Friday nights were reserved for going to a high school football game, Saturday mornings consisted of scouring the Arkansas Gazette and the Arkansas Democrat (pre-merger, of course) for results and game stories for the high school games, and Saturday afternoons or evening were reserved for yard work and Razorback football on KSSN 96.
There wasn't a whole lot better than a cool, crisp Friday night followed by a cool Saturday with dad. We'd hop in the pickup or the '87 Red Suburban to run errands during the day and turn on Paul Eells at night.
Turn the clock forward about 25 years to this past weekend and the shoe was on the other foot.
I was the one taking the kids to the high school game on Friday night, I was the one doing most of the yard work on Saturday and I was the one driving my son and I around on errands that afternoon.
It ended with a radio on in the backyard switching back and forth between two football games. It also featured a highly-contested one on one football game between my almost 6-year old son and I with the game on in the background.
I know all Saturdays won't be like that during the fall, but it sure was nice to have that one to bring back old memories.
You see, when I grew up there wasn't a football game on every channel every day of the week. Friday nights were reserved for going to a high school football game, Saturday mornings consisted of scouring the Arkansas Gazette and the Arkansas Democrat (pre-merger, of course) for results and game stories for the high school games, and Saturday afternoons or evening were reserved for yard work and Razorback football on KSSN 96.
There wasn't a whole lot better than a cool, crisp Friday night followed by a cool Saturday with dad. We'd hop in the pickup or the '87 Red Suburban to run errands during the day and turn on Paul Eells at night.
Turn the clock forward about 25 years to this past weekend and the shoe was on the other foot.
I was the one taking the kids to the high school game on Friday night, I was the one doing most of the yard work on Saturday and I was the one driving my son and I around on errands that afternoon.
It ended with a radio on in the backyard switching back and forth between two football games. It also featured a highly-contested one on one football game between my almost 6-year old son and I with the game on in the background.
I know all Saturdays won't be like that during the fall, but it sure was nice to have that one to bring back old memories.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
A Golden Night of Hoops in the Natural State -- Did You Notice?
March 16 was a good night for basketball in the state of Arkansas.
Come to think of it, the last two weeks have been really good for basketball in the state of Arkansas and – get this – none of it involved the Arkansas Razorbacks, men or women.
Come to think of it, the last two weeks have been really good for basketball in the state of Arkansas and – get this – none of it involved the Arkansas Razorbacks, men or women.
Monday, March 8, 2010
A Letter From Mac
I remember opening the letter like it was yesterday.
I was a senior at Cabot High School trying to decide where to attend college. I had an idea that I might want to get involved in the world of Sports Information as a student worker and I was trying to decide what school was right for me. Several things happened to lead me to choose Ouachita Baptist University, but one of those things was a simple letter.
I received this letter from a man named Mac Sisson who was the Sports Information Director at Ouachita inviting me to join his staff as a student worker in the Sports Information Office should I choose Ouachita.
A letter from the head SID? To me? A high school student who had never written for a newspaper, done statistics or any radio? Yes, that’s exactly what it was. And that is exactly who he was.
Mac passed away from a sudden heart attack Monday morning, March 8, less than a mile from his house. It was the first time that I have lost someone that might be considered a mentor. I probably spent more time with Mac and the other guys (and girls -- there had to be girls in the office, and pretty ones at that) in our office during my four years at Ouachita than I did studying – but don’t tell my parents.
Mac was a man who cared enough for his alma mater to go the extra mile and a man who cared enough about those he worked with to make them go the extra mile.
And did we ever go the extra mile. Make that the extra hundreds of miles.
It was the 4:00 a.m. departures for every corner of the states of Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Texas during football season.
It was the twice-a-day eating at J.D.’s in Ada, Oklahoma, on the trips to play East Central (OK) University – all provided by the “White Envelope.”
It was the ritual of stopping at all historical markers on our trips including the statue of the world’s largest peanut in Durant, Oklahoma. One year, the peanut had been stolen and the rookies on the staff didn’t have the pleasure of seeing the large statue. Mac got an 11x17 poster of the peanut mailed to the office just so they wouldn’t feel completely out of the loop.
It was the speeding ticket he received in Idabel, Oklahoma – which had to be the ONLY time he ever broke the speed limit in all four years of travel.
It was the infamous 7:00 a.m. “press box set-up” meetings on Saturdays of home football games. Those were followed by the ensuing breakfast at Hardees’s for those who didn’t want to go back to the dorm and go back to sleep.
It was bringing him into the age of doing statistics on computer -- or it may be better to say it was doing them on the computer as he asked us to “modem” them to the opponents and conference office.
It was the DOS-Based computer, daisy wheel printer and both sizes of floppy disks.
It was Elvis, not “mixing your meats” (that would be not having two meats on any type of food), and posting engagement pictures from town newspapers that just didn’t make Mac’s cut (even if you were one of the workers in the office.)
It was learning how to write, how to tell the story of your teams, coaches and athletes and how to be a professional.
It was learning his way to title a story, how to indicate that there was a second page of a news release and how to signify that the news release was complete.
It was much, much more.
It was real-world, valuable experience that he afforded to so many students from which they most likely would not have benefitted if they had attended a larger university. From day one, our by-lines were in newspapers across the region. We were in contact with sports editors and sports directors at media outlets across Arkansas and surrounding states with on-the-job training.
It was having a surrogate mom and dad in he and Donna while you were away from your parents at college.
I don’t pretend to be alone in having these memories or this hurt. Mac had a huge sphere of influence spanning three decades at Ouachita and many different areas including sports and pageants. My story represents countless others who have seen Mac’s imprint on some aspect of their career path. For that direction and advice, a simple thank you doesn’t seem to suffice.
I saw Mac the day before he passed away. He and Donna live just a block away, but I saw him the most when he would pick Donna up from work every day. He would be reading the Daily Siftings-Herald with the window down according to the temperature outside. I would walk up and their brown lab Shelby would immediately start growling or barking.
I found a framed poster in a closet last week that one of Mac’s good friends, Larry Smith, had given him in 1978 when Mac’s football game program won first place in the nation in the NAIA Football Program contest. It had been in my car since Thursday, so I figured Sunday afternoon was as good a time as any to take it over. It was the last time I would see Mac.
Mac used to have a way to let his student workers know that they had done something that wasn’t quite right. I am lucky to say that I never received one of the pink “While You Were Out Slips” in my baskets that had the dreaded two words written as only Mac could write them – “See Me.”
It’s the only note that you didn’t want to get from Mac.
I never received one of those notes, but I owe a lot to that first note that I ever received from him. It helped seal my decision to attend Ouachita. It was an indication of the impact that Mac would have on me, just like he did on so many others.
Thanks, Mac, for everything. To put it lightly, you will be missed.
-30-
I was a senior at Cabot High School trying to decide where to attend college. I had an idea that I might want to get involved in the world of Sports Information as a student worker and I was trying to decide what school was right for me. Several things happened to lead me to choose Ouachita Baptist University, but one of those things was a simple letter.
I received this letter from a man named Mac Sisson who was the Sports Information Director at Ouachita inviting me to join his staff as a student worker in the Sports Information Office should I choose Ouachita.
A letter from the head SID? To me? A high school student who had never written for a newspaper, done statistics or any radio? Yes, that’s exactly what it was. And that is exactly who he was.
Mac passed away from a sudden heart attack Monday morning, March 8, less than a mile from his house. It was the first time that I have lost someone that might be considered a mentor. I probably spent more time with Mac and the other guys (and girls -- there had to be girls in the office, and pretty ones at that) in our office during my four years at Ouachita than I did studying – but don’t tell my parents.
Mac was a man who cared enough for his alma mater to go the extra mile and a man who cared enough about those he worked with to make them go the extra mile.
And did we ever go the extra mile. Make that the extra hundreds of miles.
It was the 4:00 a.m. departures for every corner of the states of Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Texas during football season.
It was the twice-a-day eating at J.D.’s in Ada, Oklahoma, on the trips to play East Central (OK) University – all provided by the “White Envelope.”
It was the ritual of stopping at all historical markers on our trips including the statue of the world’s largest peanut in Durant, Oklahoma. One year, the peanut had been stolen and the rookies on the staff didn’t have the pleasure of seeing the large statue. Mac got an 11x17 poster of the peanut mailed to the office just so they wouldn’t feel completely out of the loop.
It was the speeding ticket he received in Idabel, Oklahoma – which had to be the ONLY time he ever broke the speed limit in all four years of travel.
It was the infamous 7:00 a.m. “press box set-up” meetings on Saturdays of home football games. Those were followed by the ensuing breakfast at Hardees’s for those who didn’t want to go back to the dorm and go back to sleep.
It was bringing him into the age of doing statistics on computer -- or it may be better to say it was doing them on the computer as he asked us to “modem” them to the opponents and conference office.
It was the DOS-Based computer, daisy wheel printer and both sizes of floppy disks.
It was Elvis, not “mixing your meats” (that would be not having two meats on any type of food), and posting engagement pictures from town newspapers that just didn’t make Mac’s cut (even if you were one of the workers in the office.)
It was learning how to write, how to tell the story of your teams, coaches and athletes and how to be a professional.
It was learning his way to title a story, how to indicate that there was a second page of a news release and how to signify that the news release was complete.
It was much, much more.
It was real-world, valuable experience that he afforded to so many students from which they most likely would not have benefitted if they had attended a larger university. From day one, our by-lines were in newspapers across the region. We were in contact with sports editors and sports directors at media outlets across Arkansas and surrounding states with on-the-job training.
It was having a surrogate mom and dad in he and Donna while you were away from your parents at college.
I don’t pretend to be alone in having these memories or this hurt. Mac had a huge sphere of influence spanning three decades at Ouachita and many different areas including sports and pageants. My story represents countless others who have seen Mac’s imprint on some aspect of their career path. For that direction and advice, a simple thank you doesn’t seem to suffice.
I saw Mac the day before he passed away. He and Donna live just a block away, but I saw him the most when he would pick Donna up from work every day. He would be reading the Daily Siftings-Herald with the window down according to the temperature outside. I would walk up and their brown lab Shelby would immediately start growling or barking.
I found a framed poster in a closet last week that one of Mac’s good friends, Larry Smith, had given him in 1978 when Mac’s football game program won first place in the nation in the NAIA Football Program contest. It had been in my car since Thursday, so I figured Sunday afternoon was as good a time as any to take it over. It was the last time I would see Mac.
Mac used to have a way to let his student workers know that they had done something that wasn’t quite right. I am lucky to say that I never received one of the pink “While You Were Out Slips” in my baskets that had the dreaded two words written as only Mac could write them – “See Me.”
It’s the only note that you didn’t want to get from Mac.
I never received one of those notes, but I owe a lot to that first note that I ever received from him. It helped seal my decision to attend Ouachita. It was an indication of the impact that Mac would have on me, just like he did on so many others.
Thanks, Mac, for everything. To put it lightly, you will be missed.
-30-
Monday, January 4, 2010
Welcome to the End of the Bench
Welcome to the End of the Bench.
For the most part, this will be a sports blog, but I hope to give it a different twist. As you can read in the description, I love sports -- I always have.
I wrote about sports as part of my job for five years as a Sports Information Director and really enjoyed it. I have always enjoyed writing and sports and those two interests were first joined when I was in elementary school. My dad was an elementary principal and on a Friday afternoon while I was waiting for him to finish things up so we could head home, I wrote a game story about the game our town's high school was going to play that evening.
After that I knew I had found something I enjoyed. It wasn't telling the future because I don't think anything I predicted to happen in the game actually came true. It was the writing aspect, though. I was the kid who poured over the Saturday paper reading every story about the previous night's high school football slate.
Fast forward several years and after I left the world of Sports Information, I wrote a column for my local paper for a couple of years and it was called "The End of the Bench."
Now, "The End of the Bench" has found it's way to the blogosphere -- hopefully not the end of the blogosphere; I'd kind of like for people to find it, read it and maybe glean something from it.
The goal is to not necessarily make this a cookie cutter blog with news. I'm probably not the one who is going to break many news stories -- I'll leave that up to the qualified media.
My goal is to maybe give you another point of view. I watch a lot of TV, but believe it or not, not all of what I watch is sports programming (just most of it.) One of the shows that my wife and I watch is "The Next Food Network Star." The judges are always asking the contestants what their cooking point of view is.
I rolled my eyes and wondered how in the world a cook could have a point of view. I rolled my eyes further when the cook would try to explain their point of view. You know, that they would try to express their upbringing, area of the country they were from, etc., through each of their challenges. I would think to myself, "Just cook the food and make it taste good. That's all anybody's looking for."
Over the last few months, though, I think I've come to realize what they mean. A lot of people cook food. But it is the personal experiences and thoughts that make each cook different.
So it is with many things, and in my opinion, and maybe even a seldom-viewed sports blog. I hope to give you a different point of view on current events in the world of sports. My point of view is that of a diehard sports fan who over the last couple of years has really tried to balance that love for sports with a dose of perspective.
Sports are great as long as they are kept in perspective.
Why the name "The End of the Bench?" Well, for starters, (no pun intended) it's where I spent the majority of time during my high school basketball career. I loved the game, but just wasn't blessed by God with the physical tools to compete at a high level. My coaches always told me I had a good mind for the game (my naive nature tended to believe them rather than allow myself to think that was their nice way of saying, "You're terrible") but I just couldn't translate it to the court.
But what I did have was a great view of the action from my seat on the bench. From my point of view, I could see everything that was taking place on the court and off of the court. Because I was separated from the action physically, I was able to take a step back mentally and see what might work. My coach called me a player/coach my senior year. By that time even my naive self knew that was code for "You're still terrible."
But I had a good vantage point.
Much of that is a parallel to today's sports fan. We're not in the action, so to speak, but we sure do think we're close to it. If we can give ourselves the ability to be passionate about or favorite teams while maintaining that sense of perspective that we should have while we're outside the lines, sports will always have it's proper place in our lives.
So, welcome to the end of the bench. I hope you enjoy the view.
For the most part, this will be a sports blog, but I hope to give it a different twist. As you can read in the description, I love sports -- I always have.
I wrote about sports as part of my job for five years as a Sports Information Director and really enjoyed it. I have always enjoyed writing and sports and those two interests were first joined when I was in elementary school. My dad was an elementary principal and on a Friday afternoon while I was waiting for him to finish things up so we could head home, I wrote a game story about the game our town's high school was going to play that evening.
After that I knew I had found something I enjoyed. It wasn't telling the future because I don't think anything I predicted to happen in the game actually came true. It was the writing aspect, though. I was the kid who poured over the Saturday paper reading every story about the previous night's high school football slate.
Fast forward several years and after I left the world of Sports Information, I wrote a column for my local paper for a couple of years and it was called "The End of the Bench."
Now, "The End of the Bench" has found it's way to the blogosphere -- hopefully not the end of the blogosphere; I'd kind of like for people to find it, read it and maybe glean something from it.
The goal is to not necessarily make this a cookie cutter blog with news. I'm probably not the one who is going to break many news stories -- I'll leave that up to the qualified media.
My goal is to maybe give you another point of view. I watch a lot of TV, but believe it or not, not all of what I watch is sports programming (just most of it.) One of the shows that my wife and I watch is "The Next Food Network Star." The judges are always asking the contestants what their cooking point of view is.
I rolled my eyes and wondered how in the world a cook could have a point of view. I rolled my eyes further when the cook would try to explain their point of view. You know, that they would try to express their upbringing, area of the country they were from, etc., through each of their challenges. I would think to myself, "Just cook the food and make it taste good. That's all anybody's looking for."
Over the last few months, though, I think I've come to realize what they mean. A lot of people cook food. But it is the personal experiences and thoughts that make each cook different.
So it is with many things, and in my opinion, and maybe even a seldom-viewed sports blog. I hope to give you a different point of view on current events in the world of sports. My point of view is that of a diehard sports fan who over the last couple of years has really tried to balance that love for sports with a dose of perspective.
Sports are great as long as they are kept in perspective.
Why the name "The End of the Bench?" Well, for starters, (no pun intended) it's where I spent the majority of time during my high school basketball career. I loved the game, but just wasn't blessed by God with the physical tools to compete at a high level. My coaches always told me I had a good mind for the game (my naive nature tended to believe them rather than allow myself to think that was their nice way of saying, "You're terrible") but I just couldn't translate it to the court.
But what I did have was a great view of the action from my seat on the bench. From my point of view, I could see everything that was taking place on the court and off of the court. Because I was separated from the action physically, I was able to take a step back mentally and see what might work. My coach called me a player/coach my senior year. By that time even my naive self knew that was code for "You're still terrible."
But I had a good vantage point.
Much of that is a parallel to today's sports fan. We're not in the action, so to speak, but we sure do think we're close to it. If we can give ourselves the ability to be passionate about or favorite teams while maintaining that sense of perspective that we should have while we're outside the lines, sports will always have it's proper place in our lives.
So, welcome to the end of the bench. I hope you enjoy the view.
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