It's a Fumble: Anything Goes

Anything goes in the pile following a fumble. 

There aren't many things in sports quite as nasty as the fumble. It's such a violent sport these, regardless of the level. But it's hard to compare something like what goes on when the ball comes loose and it becomes up for grabs.

It's not quite like a loose ball on the basketball court where you might get a few floor burns, but on the gridiron, it looks like you may want to count the number of fingers on your hands to make sure they add up to 10.

Things can get pretty ugly down on the field. As a running back would attest, when you're running with the ball, anything goes.  The defense has its eyes on not just tackling you, but trying to strip the ball as well.

And if it comes out, it's on.

When that ball comes out, the players pounce. It's hard for a referee to see who in fact has recovered the ball. In fact, many brave officials wearing just their zebra shirts, will dive into the pile trying to identify who has the ball.

But its during that time that really nobody knows, that it can get ugly. Players bite, scratch, tug and maybe even punch amidst the dust and mud.  One player may have a firm grasp of the ball, but in the pile, another may wrestle it from him only for the referee, when finally sorting out the scrum, award that player with possession.

It comes down to who wants it the most.

And it can be nasty.

"... hey, I'm Jason."

It's a story that comes back to me once in a while, but might be one of the all-time greatest of just how small this world can be at times. It's a story that my dad still cannot believe. 

But it's true. 

The year was 1994 and I was returning to New England after spending a year interning at Cal Poly University in San Luis Obispo.  The flight was not direct so we made a quick stop in Cincinnati before heading up to Boston's Logan Airport.  

While on the second leg of the flight, I entered a pleasant conversation with the businessman seated next to me by the window to my left. Our conversation touched upon the usual reasons for our travels, and somehow found out we had a few things in common. 

Like myself, we had both graduated from the University of New Hampshire and shared a similar interest in Wildcat sports.  The conversation continued with where we had lived during our times at the University.  Of course, he was about 10 or so years ahead of my class, but it was just good plain conversation. 

But then it started to get really weird, yet very interesting. 

He mentioned that he and a few of his friends lived on Central Avenue in Dover, N.H.  At first I figured that this is possible seeing how the street is the main thoroughfare through town and leads directly to Durham where UNH is located. 

But having grown up on Central Ave as a boy (132 was the address), along with my younger brother Dana, I just thought I would ask if he remembered where. 

And this is where it really gets fun. 

He said, "If I remember right, it was 134 Central Avenue." 

"Wow, that is quite interesting as I grew up in a house at 132."

As you can guess, the conversation became quite fluid and fun, and even stranger. 

"If I remember right, when we were living there attending UNH, our neighbors next door had two little boys, and I'm not sure if I have it right, but they were fun kids and we really enjoyed interacting with them," said the man. 

"I'm pretty sure the names were Jason and Dana."

Without hesitation, and quickly blurted out with a shocked grin on my face:

"Hey, I'm Jason."

Talk about how small the world can be at times.  It was such a great visit and trying to look back at some memories as I was only in the first or second grade at the time while living on Central Ave., but I do remember the "college kids" next door.  

As does my dad who still, to this day, cannot believe it.  I mean, who would have thought back in 1978 that two decades later, we would once again meet up on a flight back to Boston. 

Wake me when the lockout ends ... or not

“We make a lot of money, but we spend a lot too.”

Out of touch: Patrick Ewing (right) provided the most ridiculous
quote in profesional sports history.

That was the gem provided by none other than resident bonehead Patrick Ewing back during the previous National Basketball Association labor dispute. Latrell Sprewell, owner of a three-year, $21 million contract tried to reason with the public with a similar beauty: “I have a family to feed,” when a lockout threatened the NBA season.

So here we are today with yet another dispute between the billionaire owners, and the millionaire players. The owners claim they lose millions of dollars each year ($300 million to be exact).  Officially, 22 out of 30 teams lost money (CNBC).

To counter that, the owners have asked the players to take a pay cut from their previous 57 percent of basketball related income, to a nice, clean, 50-50 split. Not to mention a $45 million salary cap (down from $58).

Well, that hasn’t really gone over too well for the players, as you can guess. And so here we sit today with the preseason and first two weeks of the season cancelled. Now there’s talk that the NBA season might resume by Christmas if both sides can come to some conclusion.

Well, in my opinion, you have a better chance of seeing Santa come down your chimney than you would seeing the much awaited L.A. Clippers – Oklahoma Thunder matchup that I know you have circled on your calendar.

What is strange is to see the lack of concern by most sports fans. I saw a quote that the country needed the NFL (the league went through their own lockout this summer before finally coming to an agreement), and really could care less about the NBA. This speaks volumes and is true.

The NFL is America’s Game. Bypassing Major League Baseball (quick, name the two teams that lost their respective league championship series).

The NBA. Well, the general population could care less about billionaires and millionaires fighting over money. Especially with today’s economic worries with families struggling to survive and their faith in Wall Street about on par with the Celtics’ offense at the end of each quarter.  Zero.

I do feel for those that are affected: the front office personal including a few of my former students, concession workers depending on actual games at arenas to make a living, parking attendants and the many others.

Think the NBA players care much.  They’re off in Europe already playing.

Just tap me on the shoulder when the season starts. I’ll be watching football.

Stella's ambush

Official sponsor of the U.S. Open?  Not quite.

There's a thing I've been reading about in my marketing class called Ambush Marketing.  Meaning exactly that.  Marketing products or services by a company to create and illusion that these products or services are associated with a specific event. 

This "association" is without the permission of the sport endeavor or its official partner(s).  The intent is to deceive the consumer into believing they are, in fact, affiliated in some way. 

But how would a savy consumer know whether this is true or not?  Well, one thing to look for is the official logo or trademark of an "event" that would relate the product or service to.  Perhaps one of the best examples occurred this past September when when the beer Stella Artois, the Belgian beer owned by Anheuser-Busch In, ran a series of banner advertisements all around the US Tennis Center in Flushing, N.Y., site of the US Open Tennis Championships. 

Thoughts from a former Red Sox fan

Red Sox fans demand change!

I thought I would give it a few weeks, collect my thoughts, gather as much information as I can before being considered irrational. But enough is enough. I'm about ready to toss in the towel with being a dedicated Red Sox fan.

Being a native New Englander, that's not easy to do. The Red Sox were, and still are, a part of growing up in this area. There was nothing like the good 'ol days of spring training kicking off with the annual departure of the moving van from Yawkey Way in February. The hopes that this could be the year, and knowing in the end, it really wasn't going to be the year, but there was hope. 

Silicon Valley's Picasso

Steve Jobs: An Inspiration for Generations

The world lost a true innovator. The modern day Thomas Edison, Leonardo DaVinci, and even, his own admirer, Pablo Picasso.  The founder of Apple and the computer genius Steve Jobs passed away at the tender age of 56 today, after an eight-year battle with pancreatic cancer.

To put it simply, Jobs changed the world. What we take for granted today: laptop computing, portable iPod music players, tablet computers, and even the computer mouse, we owe to the legacy of Steve Jobs.

He took the computer experience, for everyone at all ages, and made it simple. From the stuffy, boxy, and heavy personal computer we once knew, he made Apple, not only user-friendly and simple to use, but most importantly, he made it cool too.

Time to Pronk? I don't think so.

India Point Park will never be the same.

You know, sometimes you think you may have seen everything there is to be seen. Life is full of bananas and people who act like bananas, but on this particular evening, I just wanted to stop and get a cup of coffee at the my favorite spot on Wickenden Street on my way home. 

It was, after all, a cool October evening and it was a fairly long day. Cruising through town, laughing to myself about how I must have missed the so-called, over-hyped Traffic Tsunami that never materialized with an event at the Dunkin Donuts Center, I thought I was in the clear. 

Boy was I wrong.  

Airplanes in October

The calendar may say it's fall, but recently it's been pretty hot and muggy around Providence, but that's okay, we know a winter is coming. So we welcome in the new month of October on this Saturday and waited out a little morning shower and headed down to the kids park at Wayland Square.

Liam loves this park as he and Cheryl frequent it quite often during the summer months. It's great because of the numerous toys and the safety of a fence around the perimeter, and not to mention a great sandbox with lots of Tonka toys to plow through the sand with.

On this particular afternoon, Liam came across a pretty cool airplane that someone kindly "donated" to the park for kids to play with. Minus the rather dangerous propeler blade, the plane was a bike and Liam loved taking it for a spin around the park.

I am sure the weather will start feeling more like fall, but despite the muggy and soggy feel, it sure beats the winter months.

JRS