Dead Horse Flogging Alert, from the site’s media grump:
Alden Global Capital, the vampire hedge fund that strip-mines newspapers large and small, took control of (Chicago) Tribune Publishing this week, which includes my old shop in Newport News, Va., and the Virginian-Pilot in Whitneyville.
I’ve kvetched plenty about Alden in this space, so I’ll keep it brief. The $633 million sale includes loans totaling $278 million, including a $60 million loan from one of Alden’s other media companies to be repaid at 13 percent interest, according to multiple reports. Alden reserved the right to have Trib Publishing take on $375 million in debt for the purchase.
The Trib was debt-free, turning a profit, and had more than $250 million in cash available, according to its first quarter financial report.
I’m certain that the terms of Alden’s purchase are legal, but I defer to those in the audience more knowledgeable about corporate finance to tell me if the moves are dickish and oily – particularly borrowing from one’s own company and being forced to repay a high interest rate.
Alden also waited all of two days to offer voluntary buyouts to current employees across the chain, and gave them until June 9 to respond. At their other newspapers, layoffs came if target numbers of buyouts weren’t met. No reason not to expect the same in this instance.
The hell of it is that these newspapers already have experienced rounds and rounds of cuts in previous administrations. There’s little fat left.
There are fewer than 1,000 newsroom employees across 10 markets that include Chicago, the Baltimore Sun, Hartford Courant, Orlando Sentinel, South Florida and NY Daily News.
I have no insight into what will happen at the two southeastern Virginia papers, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Alden misreads the room, or reads the room correctly and does whatever the hell it wants.
The Newport News and Norfolk papers have shared resources and stories, to a degree, since Tribune acquired the Norfolk paper a few years ago. I can see further cuts to both staffs and then simply combining the two papers to create a Hampton Roads Tattler, with an attempt to sell it as a one-stop shop for all Tidewater news.
Never mind that Hampton Roads is absurdly balkanized and its municipalities are all but incentivized to remain as such. There’s zero outcry for a regional paper.
Folks in Hampton and Newport News aren’t much interested in what the other is doing. Norfolk doesn’t give a fig about Virginia Beach, and Chesapeake wouldn’t piss on Portsmouth if it were on fire. Williamsburg might as well be Mars to folks on the Southside (Whitney excepted).
The result is almost certain to be downgraded local journalism, dedicated newspaper people left to scramble for the next opportunity, and a less informed population. Discouraging days for an old keyboard jockey.
...is New Orleans, of course. Get there when you can, good people. It's back.
I was there a couple of weeks ago, and it's only gotten freer and more back to normal since. The 1:00 AM curfew for bars was lifted this week, returning it to that special status of The City That Really, Truly, Never Sleeps.
My lovely gf took me first-class to the Big Easy for a long weekend. We stayed the night at the estate (not really exaggerating) of one of my best friends from coming up. He owns his own veterinary practice/hospital down there. If you take an animal there and it gets bitten sick or bitten by a gator, check Ned out.
Here's what we hit whilst in the Crescent City:
Saba - upscale, veg-friendly spot (the woman doesn't dig on swine... or sea life). Great food, outdoor dining, nice touch.
Juan's Flying Burrito - searching for a place on Magazine that opened early for lunch and had no
long line, we found it. As we walked in, I read the review at right on my phone. Yipes. Luckily, it was way better than that. Creole steak tacos and a few micheladas (Modelo). Not bad, Juan. Way better than a dumpster.
Le Bon Temps Roule. One of my all-time favorite bars in NOLA. Highlighted in this video for the Mardi Gras song Ned and I did, if you recall. We hunkered down at the bar (hallelujah), shot some stick, and drank an array of American lagers and ales (from Dale's to Anchor Steam to Dixie Light). Brilliant. Life felt back in order.
The French Quarter. Like a bunch of nameless spots. The Monteleone was jammed and my other go-to's were either closed or full, so we ambled around and stopped in the walk-ups. God bless that town. Though I was overserved by some reckless bartender.
Mahony's - po' boys done brilliantly. We went in for brunch Sunday and had the bottomless Bloody / mimosa combo. (You can mix and match endlessly for $15.) I ate the Peacemaker. Or gave it my best shot. It's got hearty fried shrimp and oysters plus bacon and cheddar plus the usual fully dressed (LTMP and I added lots and lots of Crystal) on a damn fine French bread. Holy wow.
Friday night we hit Rebirth Brass Band at the Howlin' Wolf. So good. They were still doing pods, and we had a 4-person one at the front.
I can't get the video we took to work, so take the show below, and reduce the number of people by 80%. Same vibe, though.
So much fun. So we are going back.
Jazz Fest is a go in October, and we are hitting the 2nd weekend. More to come later, but I couldn't be more exicted.
If you've raised kids, or were a kid yourself any time in the past 45 years, you might've felt a disturbance in the force yesterday. Eric Carle, author of the beautifully poignant The Very Hungry Caterpillar, passed away yesterday at the age of 91.
Two years ago, Carle talked about the book on the 50th anniversary of its release.
"I think it is a book of hope," Carle says in the video above. "Children need hope."
He would know. He was not quite a teenager when his family moved back to his parents' native Germany from his birthplace of Syracuse, NY, just in time for World War II. His father was imprisoned in Russian POW camp after being drafted to fight for the Nazis, leading to a time of deprivation for his family. You can hear the traces of his lineage in his accent.
Carle returned to America after the war and served in the U.S. military during Korea, interrupting a career as an illustrator. He didn't publish his first book until he was nearly 40, but eventually illustrated more than 70 bright, whimsical, hopeful kids' books. Of the books I read my kids when they were young, Carle's were my favorite. Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, 1, 2, 3 to the Zoo, The Very Quiet Cricket, The Mixed-Up Chameleon, Mister Seahorse, brilliant all. Even today, his work is my go-to gift for new parents.
RIP to a real one. May heaven be a collage of joyous color.
(Consider this a parallel theme to Rob Lasso. A much cruder and less insightful parallel)
It has been an eventful youth baseball week in my house, so I want to share some highlights. Most folks here know that I coach my younger son's 11U travel baseball team. I love it for many reasons. I love baseball. I enjoy working with good kids. I enjoy the time with my kid. And I enjoy the competition. We have a very strong squad this year, so it's been a blast. We are 10-3 in all competitions. I have been setting things up to give them more competition, and they've risen to the challenge. All good stuff, and will be a genuine bummer to leave this squad when we move.
My younger guy is a complicated kid. He has some natural gifts (coordination, quickness, intensity), but some deficits (size, strength, empathy). We had a couple games this weekend that tested his ability to deal with his strengths and weaknesses. He dealt with the issues in his own way. I'm not sure I love how my kid reacted to the pressure, but I'm not sure I hate it.
He had a rec game on Saturday against a team that was short two players. That team "borrowed" two of our players each inning to have 9 in the field. It's a common league move. My kid played CF against his own team one inning. One of his good friends smoked a liner in the gap. My kid slowly made his way to the ball and then made a feeble throw back in. His friend got a triple. It's what a poor rec player would have done. The other team's coach had a breakdown as a result. He started screaming and yelling about my kid's slow response. He stopped the game and demanded that the guest fielders leave. He said "I don't want them. I'll play with seven."
He ordered the guest fielders off the field, an unprecedented move in rec baseball. As this happened, he started yelling at the ump to disallow a run b/c the guest fielder (my son) didn't give 100%. The ump disagreed and an argument ensued, exactly as my kid started running in from CF. While that lunatic coach was yelling, my kid jogged by him and gave him a thumbs-up from a few feet away, in a sarcastic "you're really cool, asshole" kinda way.
The coach did not like that. I was not there for the game, and I am not sure if I like that move or not. But I am not sure I hate it. I teach my kids to respect authority figures, but asshole rec coaches for other teams are not authority figures. My kid's move apparently irked other kids on that team, who told my kid they would peg him the next time they played. So my kid asked me about charging the mound. I told him not to, b/c I would handle it if he got plunked. Is my kid a dickhead for doing this stuff? Possibly, but we have no fucks to give b/c we are leaving town in two months. Rec baseball!!!
Second story is different, but the same. My travel team played on Sunday. The opposition was generally a nice group, but they had one bad habit that their coaches did not address. Whenever we threw a ball to a base, their whole dugout would yell "BALL BALL BALL BALL BALL" over and over to let their baserunner know our fielder still had the ball, to avoid the hidden ball trick. They did it excessively every time and it was a uniquely annoying experience to hear it.
We only had 9 kids for this game, so my kid played 3B the whole game. The other team was trying to steal a lot, so my kid fielded many throws on steal attempts and also got many pick-off throws his way.
Every time he got a throw and held the ball, the other dugout would start yelling. His response was to drop his mitt and do a second swipe tag on the kid's helmet. Not in a "I'm gonna concuss you" kinda way, but in a "just as a reminder, I'm giving you this shot to the head b/c your dugout is annoying" kinda way. He perfectly rode the line of not tagging too hard to warrant a warning from the ump, but annoying the fuck out of the other team. It was great.
My kid confirmed after the game that the other dugout was annoying, so he consistently gave a mild/medium plunk to the baserunner's head as a way to deal with it. I was fine with it. Annoying opponents suck. Do what you can do.
So maybe my kid is an 11 y/o version of AJ Pierzynski. Or Claude Lemieux. Or Bruce Bowen. Either way, I love him playing with an edge. I wouldn't love anything more, but he hasn't pushed it that far. Yet.
Brooks Koepka notoriously gives very few fucks. And if this clip filmed after Friday's second round of the PGA Championship at Kiawah Island is any indication, he has very little love for Bryson DeChambeau. Enjoy a rare bit of unfiltered disdain from one professional to another. The Ryder Cup team room should be fun.
“I promise you, there is something worse out there than being sad. And that is being alone and being sad. Ain’t no one in this room alone.” -- Ted Lasso
Ted Lasso is really just a device in this serial, but there was a video making the rounds this week that was so good that I have to include it as the amuse bouche for this week's episode.
ITV News reporter Chris Skudder was doing man on the street interviews after Leicester City's 1-0 FA Cup Final victory over Chelsea when he came across several cast members from the show. Unaware of who they were, he proceeded to ask them their views on the match. And they played a wee prank, which was glorious.
When we left our heroes, they'd earned a 2-1 win that should've been more comfortable, and Ab was sad to have not played a single minute. There are a lot of kids who would've pouted about it, and blamed the coach. Ab? Well, she set out to change the coach's mind.
During practice this week, she was the hardest worker on the field. She scored a pair of excellent goals in a scrimmage at the end of practice on Wednesday, the day before this week's game. Coach said to me on the way off the field, "I've got to find a way to get Ab in the game tomorrow."
Our opponent has had a rough season. The school was founded in 1976, and athletic luminaries like Billy King, Allen Pinkett, and Jeff Lageman graduated during its athletic heyday. But two new schools opened nearby in the late 90s and early 2000s, which meant that the school's enrollment was concentrated in mostly economically disadvantaged neighborhoods. The school's athletic department isn't well-funded or well-supported. They've lost three games this season by double-digits, which is...not great.
So we were a bit frustrated to be in a scoreless tie with them mid-way through the first half, despite dominating the action, when Coach told Ab to warm up. Before she could get into the game, Kenny scored on a volley from a corner kick taken by freshman Lexi, who made her first-ever high school start to give us a lead.
Ab entered the game, closely followed by Dutch, who missed the first part of the game because she was taking an AP Exam. (Fucking Jurgen Klopp doesn't have to deal with that kind of shit, I'm sure.)
Dutch took possession of the ball near midfield, and slotted a perfect diagonal ball into Ab's run, slipping her behind the defense. Ab took three touches, and calmly flicked the ball with the outside of her right foot past the onrushing keeper and into the bottom right corner of the net. It was an immensely popular goal on our sideline.
That was our only other goal of the first half, and Coach wasn't happy. He does a good job of expressing his frustration in colorful terms to the rest of the coaching staff before calmly addressing the team. He's a pretty serious dude, but he's not a yeller, and he's good at diagnosing issues. In this case, we were stubbornly trying to play direct balls into straight runs, a recipe for lots of running with little to show for it. And we were extremely right-handed, as if we'd forgotten that the field also has a left side. Jennie was alone in acres of space, and we never really even looked for her. Despite scoring, Kenny was pissed at herself for playing down to the opponents' level. So it wasn't the happiest team talk.
As for me, in my increasingly solidified role as the supplier of positive energy, I told them to "play free, express yourselves", as I saw them thinking way too much when they had the talent to break the game open.
And 90 seconds into the second half, Kenny opened her body, switched the ball from the right to the left, and found Jennie streaking down the wing. Jennie got behind her defender and blasted one into the goal. Five minutes later, she did the same thing.
Before the game, I'd told Jennie that her word for the game was "attack", because she has speed and skill, but sometimes plays a bit passively. So I patted myself on the back a bit mentally after those two tallies.
At 4-0, we began to clear the bench, but Kenny took advantage of the limited minutes she had left to score on a brilliant header off another corner, rising above her defender to find the net. Two minutes later, she stepped into one from 25 yards out and ripped it far post into the side of the net to complete her hat trick. Of note, her final goal was assisted by Aliana, a kid who's new to our school this year, and if we're being honest, is probably our most limited player in terms of experience. She tries hard, and she's learning, so it was very cool to see her contribute.
Our opponent got one back on a ferocious left-footed drive by their best player. Ollie had entered the game a few minutes earlier in relief of Ellie, but no keeper was stopping that one.
We rounded out our scoring with two feel-good moments, one of which hits close to home (home being the Gheorghieverse, in this case). Freshman midfielder Niecy (so named because she's the niece of FOGTB Cliffy) made a terrific first touch to get past a defender, then drove a low ball under the keeper and into the net for her first high school tally. She's a well-liked kid, and Ab picked her up off the ground as the team celebrated her.
Then, Little Ab held off a defender and slotted home to cap the scoring. I was happy to sit it, because she's a junior who transferred to our school this year, and she hasn't gotten a ton of game time.
Careful readers will notice that Sid didn't get on the scoresheet, and it ate at her. She had several chances, and the agony on her face after each close call was evident. She was the only player other than Jennie that I gave a word before the game. Her's was "free". As in, let it go, man - just play. And she played really well, but I don't think she believes that. I had an exchange with her on the bench late in the game that might (maybe? hopefully?) be a crack that's letting the light in:
She said, "Niecy scored, Little Ab scored, but I can't score!"
To which I responded: "You know why that's a good thing?"
Her awareness dawning, she replied: "Because we're winning?"
Me, knowingly, "Because we're winning."
At this point Ellie jumped in to say: "You're such a dad."
And I said: "Guilty as charged."
But the important coda was Sid's, as she said: "But he's right."
Attagirl, Sid.
We're now 3-3, 2-1 in our district with a shot at the second seed in the district tournament. To get that shot, we'll have to beat the undefeated first-place team, then avenge our second loss, so there's a hill to climb. But we're a lot more confident team today than we were two weeks ago, and that's fun to see.
Sunday evening at 7:00, the Atlanta Hawks, fifth seeds in the Eastern Conference, face the fourth-seeded New York Knicks in the first round of the NBA Playoffs. There is a chance that this game will be the first game in NBA history to feature a player from William & Mary. But even if he doesn't get into a single game during the Hawks' playoff run, Nathan Knight proved he belongs in the league. And ain't that something?
W&M's greatest all-time player signed a two-way contract with Atlanta as an undrafted free agent, meaning that he was only eligible to be active for 50 of the team's 72 games. Ironically, the pandemic helped Nate, because normal NBA rules only allow a two-way player to spend 45 days with their NBA parent club and the majority of their time with a G-League affiliate.
I'm not such a homer that I'd overstate Knight's impact on the Hawks in the 33 games in which he appeared, but he did make his mark on a couple of occasions. In his second professional game, with the Hawks' roster depleted by injury, Nate dropped 14 points, making two of three from deep and rocking the rim on a pass from Trae Young as the Hawks beat Memphis (the dunk is at the 1:19 mark in the video below.
On back to back nights in March, Knight scored 16 and 15 in Atlanta's wins over Cleveland and Houston. Then, in the team's final game of the season, he went for a double-double, scoring 13 points and grabbing a career-high 10 boards in 26 minutes of action.
All told, Nate finished his rookie season averaging 3.8 points and 2.2 rebounds in 8.5 minutes per game. He didn't shoot the ball particularly well from the field (37%), but he did make 80% of his 55 free throws. In game action, he demonstrated an offensive explosiveness that we didn't see that often in college.
In our unbiased opinion, the Knighthawk showed enough to get another season in the league. He's got work to do on both ends of the floor, and we're not yet ready to argue that he's a starter. Yet. We reached out to the Atlanta front office for comment about Nate's future with the team, but they declined comment. Which, obviously, means that they don't want the rest of the league to know what they think they have. Smart, right there.
Our crystal ball says Nate's back with the Hawks next year, potentially bouncing up and down between the NBA and G-League. But we haven't seen the last of him, and that's a hell of a thing for a W&M product.
rob's been posting musical reminiscences lately so I run up on his corner because Spotify just served up some 3rd Bass and we shouldn't forget about them.
“Takin’ on a challenge is a lot like riding a horse. If you’re comfortable while you’re doin’ it, you’re probably doin’ it wrong.” -- Ted Lasso
If I were more of a planner, and a better writer, I'd have planned a story arc to go along with this running diary. And if I had done that, this episode might have been a good time to introduce some conflict, seeing as it's about half way through season one. Fortunately for me, reality planned better than I did.
During the week, we'd told the kids that we were going to try to play a JV game against one of our county's new schools on Friday as a lead-in to the Varsity game that evening. It would mean that we'd likely play 9v9 or 10v10, but it would be a chance for kids who haven't played much to get a run. When we announced the plan, it went over like a lead balloon (or a lead pillow), as the faces of the players betrayed the calculations they were making in their heads about which game they'd get/have to dress for. (In our county, you can't play in both a JV and Varsity game on the same day.)
As a part of the same conversation, we discussed arrangements for the bus transportation to the game. Because of the pandemic, our county has relaxed its rules on travel, allowing kids to get themselves to games if they choose. Since we were going to play a JV game at 6:00 and only take one bus, that meant that any Varsity kids who rode the bus would have to be ready two hours earlier than they might normally need. Before we even finished explaining, Dutch and Ab enthusiastically said that they intended to ride the bus to the JV game so they could watch it. Predictably, a whole lot of others jumped on that train.
As it turns out, we had two injuries and a conflict with an AP Exam that left us short of the minimum number of players available to play the JV game, and all the angst was for naught. But I saw you, Dutch and Ab.
Speaking of the former, our narrative arc darkened a bit further when she sidled up to me and the head coach to let us know that Natasha's attitude was becoming problematic. The latter has been dealing with an injury, and missed practice earlier in the week because of it without letting us know. And according to Dutch, she's been chastising teammates in less than kind ways. She got her moniker because she's of Russian descent, and she seems to have some of that culture's stereotypical steel in her personality. We're a lot better with her at left back, but as Ted Lasso figured out with Jamie Tartt, talent takes a back seat when toxic behavior corrodes a team's culture. One to watch.
On a much better note, a seemingly minor moment mid-week stuck with me enough to go out of my way to pump a kid up about it. I've been gently chiding Kenny about her inability to use her left foot. She's uber-talented - her skills on the ball are phenomenal, and made more effective because of her above-average height and long legs. But she's very right-dominant, and good defenders can use their positioning to limit her effectiveness. More than once, she's told be that she doesn't think she's very good with her left - and we need her to be.
After practice on Wednesday, I noticed her and Jennie head back onto the field after the other players packed up and started to leave. She took a ball and started taking shots with her left foot. She really isn't all that good with it, as it turns out, but she's putting in work. And as I told her the next day, that little example is a kind of leadership in its own way. If the team's most talented player is willing to work harder than anyone else, that'll play.
We took our first bus ride on Friday (our first road match was really close to our school, so we just got there on our own). Ab asked the coach if it was to be a silent ride, and he took advantage of the opening to make it so. Rookie mistake on Ab's part.
As for the game, it was a perfect Bob Knight outcome. We won, 2-1, but we made enough mistakes and missed enough chances that it'll give us a chance to keep the kids from getting overconfident.
We probably outshot our opponents by something like 20 to 5, but we didn't convert several gilt-edged chances. Natasha ruled herself out with her injury - a game-time decision - so sophomore Joolz made her debut as a starter. She went all 80 minutes in a game she didn't know she was starting until ten minutes before kickoff. Her nerves showed in the opening minutes, but she settled in a played a solid game.
Dutch was an absolute legend in this one. She had to guide a nervous first-time starter through the game, she covered time and time again for mistakes on the other side of the back line, and she wound up getting on the scoreboard. She hit a free kick from 20 yards out inches wide of the post, but she got another chance five minutes later after Kenny was hacked down in the box. Dutch walked to the spot with the ball laughing audibly. Nervous habit, I'm sure, but it must've made the opposing keeper think she was a lunatic - right before she absolutely stonked the spot kick into the upper left corner.
After the break, Kenz got her second career goal after Steph danced her way through the defense and slotted a ball that would've been hard not to convert. Kenz made no mistake, blasting it with her left foot into the back of the net. Joolz started the movement with a terrific pass to spring Steph.
We could've and likely should've scored three or four more: Steph had two breakaways and missed the frame both times. Sid had a sitter from three feet out and clanked her shot off her plant foot. Sam hit the keeper in the numbers unmarked from 15 yards out.
That lack of efficiency made things a bit white-knuckled when Sid fouled an opponent in the box and they converted the penalty, but the girls made the scoreline stand up to bring our record to 2-3.
Ab was bummed not to play, and Sid was basically inconsolable even in victory. There are some growing pains nagging at the good guys. Gonna have to earn our money coaching this week.
A small story about inadvertently offending a group of people, reading comprehension, and coming juuuust short of being called a racist.
In my previous life as a daily newspaper sports typist, I periodically wrote columns. Opinion pieces, supplemental pieces about topics and events, pieces that permitted more expressive leeway than straight reporting. Some were better, and better received, than others. This is about one of the “others.”
After Virginia fired basketball coach Pete Gillen in 2005, to the joy and relief of a sizeable section of Cavalier fandom, I wrote a column that cautioned against thinking that the next hire would be automatically successful.
I had a conversation with a coach about job vacancies and replacements, and he said that there’s no reason to think athletic directors get it right when hiring new coaches. They don’t hire coaches in marquee sports very often, he said, so it’s not a regular exercise. External pressure from boosters and influencers often complicates the process.
Pete can't believe you wrote that, Dave
With an increasing number of athletic administrators coming from business and not athletic backgrounds, they may not be equipped to gauge how well a candidate can build relationships and a successful culture, or how well they may fit at a specific school. Even the best athletic directors whiff now and then, he said.
I paraphrased several of his points and wrote a disclaimer that these weren’t original thoughts, that someone smarter than me floated them. I wrote that it shouldn’t be a surprise, since regular readers know that several species of canine and the entire student body at such-and-such local middle school are smarter than me. I wrapped up the column and sent it to the copy desk. No questions or complaints.
The next morning, I took phone calls from torqued off teachers and parents from said middle school, blasting me for comparing their students to dogs. I was dumbfounded. My responses were mostly along the lines of: That’s not what I wrote; I was poking fun at myself; go back and re-read the segment. They were having none of it. The fact that I mentioned dogs and their students in the same sentence meant I was comparing them. Did I not know how harmful and hurtful that was?
Then came a curveball from one teacher: Was I aware that said middle school is predominantly African-American? No, I was not. Apparently, I should have known. So, I wrote that the entire student body of a predominantly African-American middle school was smarter than me, right? Nope, because I mentioned dogs in the same sentence, which meant that I was saying those Black kids were no smarter than dogs.
I also got a call from, if memory serves, the school’s assistant principal, repeating in very measured and sober tones all of the same criticisms. I told him, too, that’s not what I wrote, go back and read the segment. There was no intent to belittle kids, and for what logical reason would a sports column about college coaching changes do so?
Willful or not, he insisted that I did. He accused me, in so many words, of being ignorant of and insensitive to the Black community.
I asked if he was aware of me and had read any of my work through the years. He said that he had not. I said, as an educator and administrator, wouldn’t you advise your students and colleagues not to draw conclusions based on just one small piece of information?
Long pause.
I’ve known people like you, he said.
Really? And what are people like me?
They pass themselves off as good people, he said, but they aren’t aware of how their words and actions affect others. Their prejudices are just below the surface and become evident. They help reinforce stereotypes. I said, that’s quite the leap, given that you don’t know me at all.
I told him, we’re gonna have to agree to disagree. Bottom line, they wanted a retraction. They wanted an apology. I gave them neither.
I had a conversation with my editor, who fielded a couple of calls himself. Did he think I belittled kids? No, he said, but they think you did; could all of them be wrong?
Yep, I told him.
I honestly don’t recall how the mess was resolved. I have a vague recollection that someone above me wrote a half-disclaimer, half-explanation and apologized for my wording, but that there was no ill intent. I continued to write columns, and colleagues gave me gas about bullying kids and suggested sensitivity training.
I saw the coach whose ideas I cribbed a week or so later. I asked him at the time if he minded if I used them anonymously. Sure, he said.
He asked how the column turned out. I told him what I wrote and how it got me in trouble with the middle school folks. You’re kidding, he said, in disbelief. At least both of us were callous douchebags.
I’m certain that some stuff I wrote and said 15 or 20 years ago – or last week – was insensitive or lacked awareness. The landscape today is even more fraught, a minefield of potential aggrievement about anything beyond the idea that puppies are adorable.
The lesson, I guess, in all of it is to communicate clearly and without ambiguity.
Keep the wiseassery to a minimum in broader audiences. If possible, ask friends and trusted colleagues their opinions before you deliver a message. And sometimes, don’t hit the ‘send’ button, and keep it to yourself. You’ll probably sacrifice clicks and eyeballs and attention, but you’ll save yourself some grief. Unless DGAF is your stock in trade.
The crack team of Gheorghe: The Blog prognosticators for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Inductions (GTBRnRHoFers, for short) came up with this in February:
And yesterday, the Rock Hall announced its winners:
A few takeaways:
In Dave style, I will self-proclaim... I'm getting good.
There was plenty of chatter that Carole King wasn't rock and that the year of the female would bring in Kate Bush and Chaka Khan instead and that the Foos needed to wait longer and that Fela Kuti got a million tallies on the Fan Vote and that Rage embodied the culture and mindset of 2021. Eh.
I only missed on Jay-Z, saying "Soon enough." That time is now.
Alas, poor Devo. I know them well.
Tina Turner will be the headliner for the show, but my favorite pick other than the obvious is the Go-Go's.
So let's talk about LL Cool J. Technically speaking, the Hall did this:
What the hell is that? Musical Excellence, not a Performer? Is LL Cool J not a performer extraordinaire?
In some ways, it's a backhand that demeans both LL and me. In others, who cares? He's in. Along with Billy Preston (the 5th Beatle) and Randy Rhoads in '82 right before that . . . you know.
Fast fact no one cares about that I thought of when I saw the list of Early Influencers (other than the fact that this is the only place you will ever see these three artists bundled together, ever): Gil Scott-Heron was on Little Steven's brilliant project Artists United Against Apartheid on "Sun City." That (linked) video is a fun watch.
“Early drinkin’ means quick drunken.” -- Ted Lasso
This is a thing I actually said at practice last Friday: "Ladies, let's not corrupt the freshmen." It amused me when I said it, and it gives me a good chuckle still.
One of the best parts of coaching is watching teams come together, and watching kids build relationships. Before practice, Ab (a senior captain, if you're picking the series up mid-season) was chopping it up with a couple of the younger kids, and I heard her say, "Oh, we're gonna get white girl drunk, are we?" Which is what I was responding to with my gentle admonition.
The mood was lighthearted in practice because we notched our first victory of the season the night before. We played the same team that beat us, 4-1, in the season opener. In that game, the opponent's star striker was unplayable, scoring twice and assisting on both other goals. She's a tall, fast, physical and talented kid who'll be playing at the Division I level next year. Stop her, we figured, and we'd stop them.
That sounds easy in theory.
We asked Breezy to do something she'd never done before - man mark the opponent's start, tracking her everywhere on the field and not giving her room or time. Sixty seconds into the game, it was apparent that Breezy didn't fully grasp the concept, as her mark slipped between two defenders and hit a shot right at Ellie.
But after a bit more explanation, Breezy locked it down. The opponent's talisman was reduced to playing long passes out of the midfield and trying frustrated 30-yard shots. By the second half sanitation break (we're required by the state association to sanitize the soccer balls once each half, in a bit of pandemic theater) Breezy was smiling as she recounted the girl's mounting frustration, expressed both verbally and physically. Breezy just leaned in and made herself a general pain in the ass.
While Breezy executed our defensive game plan, Sid was excellent in the midfield. She got her second goal in as many games, pouncing on a loose ball at the top of the box and popping it into the upper corner of the goal to give us a 1-0 first-half lead. Midway through the second, she pulled a ball out of the air with a sublime first touch, then slotted Kenz through the back line. Kenz has made a habit of shooting the ball directly at the keeper, but she made no mistakes this time, rifling the ball low and hard to the back post for her first-ever high school goal. The freshmen are rampant - they've scored four of our five goals thus far.
Sid is an interesting kid. She's very good, and her game is a confident one. But she's impossibly hard on herself, and when she makes a mistake or loses a ball (as one invariably does in soccer), she's stricken by a look of pain and grief. And one mistake becomes three. I've taken it as a personal challenge to get her to give herself a little bit of grace from time to time. Her mom wished me good luck in that endeavor, as no coach thus far has been able to do it.
After Breezy's performance, the key to our win was Steph's hold-up play at striker. The opponent had more of the ball than we did, so it was vital that we got breathing room when we did gain possession. Steph was excellent in getting control, slowing the game down, making the right pass, and pressuring with purpose if we lost the ball. She didn't score, but she was a difference-maker.
Dutch and Mac had a big task with Breezy - our usual holding midfielder - otherwise occupied, but the stepped up and made every play. Ellie made a trio of excellent saves at key moments and avoided the big mistake that's plagued her, and the kids closed the game out with a well-deserved 2-0 win.
Practice the next day, as noted above, was very lighthearted. Because most of the kids had busy club soccer schedules over the weekend, we kept it low-key, going through a couple of drills before letting them play 'world cup', which is multi-team game akin to '21' in basketball. Sid's competitiveness came to the fore, while the rest of the kids spent 30 minutes shrieking and giggling. It's been easy to forget that despite the fact the some of them look grown up, these are kids. And it was really fun to watch them be kids.
I confess that this filler-focused exercise in remembering songs and bands that influenced my teen years of semi-rebellion against the machine has been a fun trip back to the past. It was hard to pick just one song from this band. Fun fact: I puked after seeing them in concert at the late, lamented Boathouse. Not from drinking alcohol, but from pounding a 64 oz. Gatorade to replenish the fluids I lost from pogo-moshing. All the good times we had, we'll have again.
zson and I have competed in several Cub Scout Pinewood Derby events. We had the third-fastest car our first year, largely because I was a Cub Scout and I knew there are a bunch of easy things you need to do to make the car faster, and I suspected that most of the dads had no idea how to use a hand saw let alone polish an axle, and I also suspected that most of the dads are also hyper-competitive type-A nut jobs so they would work themselves into a lather after losing the first year and watch all sorts of YouTubes on how to make these little cars go fast, so I put a lot of time into getting the axles smooth, polishing the insides of the wheels, and getting the car right up to the legal weight limit with most of the weight right in front of the rear axle. As I predicted, the other dads came back with a vengeance after that and bought some woodworking tools (and possibly bought fast cars on the internet, but that's a different story).
This year we decided to chase the best design category instead of speed. zson thought a VW Camper Van would be cool and relatively easy. He was right and wrong, respectively. The project involved two blocks of wood to get the correct aspect ratio, lots of drilling and failed attempts to use Juan Carlos's palm router to remove lots of wood from the middle to get under the weight limit, a little sawing and a lot of sanding. We found some groovy reflective iridescent paper for the windows, printed some Grateful Dead images for the rear, and got a VW logo from a brochure at the local dealer. We were very happy with the results.
We took the first place trophy for design so the judges liked it too. I felt pretty good about my automotive woodworking skills. Then I saw this video.
I hope this guy doesn't show up at next year's Pinewood Derby.
There are a number of studies that suggest that regular morning exercise has significant health benefits. People who get their sweat on in the early hours boost their metabolism, tend to sleep better, and even have increased mental clarity and attention span.
During the pandemic, and especially since we bought a Peloton bike in August, I've made a regular habit of working out before I start my professional day. Anecdotally, I do believe I'm more alert and in a more positive frame of mind on days I exercise. And I'm almost certainly more fit today than I was before the beginning of the pandemic, despite a noteworthy increase in my alcohol intake.
Recently, though, I've found a different early-day stimulant that makes me sweat and definitely elevates my heart rate, even though I do it sitting down. And like many things over the past 30 years, I blame Dave.
The New York Times crossword is an iconic part of American newspaper history. It's been a daily feature of the Grey Lady since 1950. Editor Will Shortz is a bit of a geek idol, appearing in The Simpsons, How I Met Your Mother, and Brooklyn Nine-Nine among many others.
Sometime in the past few years, the Times published an app that added a small version of the crossword they called the Mini. And some time shortly after that, Dave turned it into a competition.
I first learned of the Mini at last year's OBFT when Dave lamented that zman was routinely the fastest at completing the Mini. Dave can beat his local friends most days, but it's a rare occasion when he tops zman. Then Whitney joined in, and he usually edges Dave, as well.
I resisted, because I'm a reformed hyper-competitive loon. Mostly.
And then, about a month ago, I downloaded the app and started a new form of daily exercise.
The Mini is usually a 5x5 puzzle, except on Saturdays, when the creators stretch their muscles, figuring we've got a little more time on our hands. A really excellent solver can rip through the Mini in under 25 seconds. My best time is 29 seconds, but I'm generally happy when I keep it under 45. And when I beat Dave.
And therein lies the rub. I usually do the Mini first thing when I sit down to my desk to work. Even before I open the app, my heart rate increases along with my stress levels. As I work the puzzle, my pulse hammers in my head. When I'm struggling, which happens on occasion (took me six minutes to finish a few weeks ago because I had complete brainlock), I start to sweat, first at my temples. When I finish, I check the leaderboard.
Which zman typically sits atop, lording down upon us mortals. I've had the best time on a handful of occasions, which is a good way to start the day. Whitney's probably the second-fastest Gheorghie, a fact that I'm certain infuriates Dave, which gives me more pleasure than it should.
Marls started playing along recently, but that dude has a three year-old, so he's forgiven for not getting time to play the Mini every day.
I'd encourage the rest of you to join in, but I think it's actually not all that good for my health. So if you want to play, do it with your eyes open. The NYT Mini is a dangerous thing.
In 2010, journalist Chelsea Wald was on assignment at a science camp in Alaska. When nature called, she and the other residents trudged up steps to elevated outhouses over large tanks in which waste was vacuumed out and hauled away by truck. She thought the setup a mite primitive for 21st century America, but as her reporting and research on sanitation expanded, she regarded the situation as “a microcosm of the world’s poop problem.”
Most people in the developed world flush and forget, with barely a thought to where their waste goes or how it’s handled. Billions of people in poor and developing countries have no infrastructure for handling human waste.
Wald believes we must change that, since poor sanitation and inattention can poison people and eco-systems and can affect increasingly stressed resources. Her book, “Pipe Dreams,” addresses the issues as she aims for what she calls “Loo-topia.”
Subtitled “The Urgent Global Quest to Transform The Toilet,” it’s an informative, engaging dive into human excreta. And who doesn’t enjoy a good yarn about pooping and peeing?
Wald traveled to India and South Africa and Kenya and Dubai and the Netherlands and Haiti and towns all over America. She interviewed a lot of smart, committed people who want to improve lives and communities via better sanitation, such as a personable salesman in Indonesia peddling cleanliness one toilet and septic tank at a time – a Johnny Crappleseed, if you will.
Chapters include “Taking the Piss – We’re going to need more pipes,” “Eating Sh!t – That sludge isn’t going to digest itself,” and “Potty Talk – Let’s analyze the shit out of this.”
Wald provides a bunch of factoids, both interesting and alarming: the average person produces 100 pounds of poop and 140 gallons of pee per year; approximately 700 million people use toilets that amount to open defecation, according to a World Health Organization study from several years ago; another 600 million don’t have private toilets in their homes, but share with surrounding households or neighborhoods; nearly 2.2 billion people have what’s called basic sanitation, that’s actually long on “basic” and short on “sanitation” with little or no waste treatment; one outfit estimated that women worldwide spend 97 billion hours per year looking for safe and clean places to relieve themselves, which is more time than the total number of hours worked in Germany annually; one study estimated that for every dollar spent on universal sanitation, an average return of $5.50 can be expected, in areas of reduced health care costs and a more productive workforce; a 2017 report card by the American Society of Civil Engineers gave the U.S. wastewater infrastructure a D-plus, due to aging and inadequate systems.
Wald writes that the toilet as most of us know it is both an engineering marvel and woefully outdated for present times and challenges. People adapt to new and changing technologies all the time and often demand improvements, yet the toilet hasn’t changed much in more than 100 years, and we’re mostly good with it.
I recall that several in the audience are advocates of bidets (bidevotees?) and Japanese robo-toilets with sprayers and dryers and automatic lids and heated seats and such. That the next generation of toilets and waste practices hasn’t caught on here is due largely to the Victorian-era remnant of “ick factor” related to excreta and an unwillingness to even broach the subject. A combination of stigma about human waste and uncleanliness, along with cost of toilets, septic systems and basic sanitation make it a tough sell in many poor and developing countries, as well.
History has taught us to think of the toilet as a trash can, Wald writes, when it holds the potential to be a recycling bin. Think fertilizer and disinfectants and nutrients and fuel and microbes and compost. Women are more impacted and inconvenienced than men in waste management, particularly when you factor in menstruation. The poor are more impacted than the wealthy.
If you aren’t inclined to become a commode crusader, Wald has plenty of suggestions for simply assisting the waste movement. Learn about your own sewage or septic system. Upgrade to low-flow or improved toilets. Don’t flush anything other than the three P’s – pee, poop and (toilet) paper; discard everything else. Monitor wastewater systems and water quality in your area. Speak up for those being shamed for peeing, pooping and menstruating. Advocate for safe conditions and good pay for wastewater workers. Talk about toilets and pooping and peeing – maybe not at the dinner table, but most everywhere else is fair game.
The pandemic highlighted the ease with which pathogens spread and underscored the importance of hygiene and best health practices. Waste management, or mis-management, can loose pathogens and spread all manner of health problems. Hurricanes, floods, rising seas and climate-induced disasters can cripple massive sewage systems.
If we’re to become more self-sustaining, we’ll have to use all the resources at our disposal. Though if we reach a point where we’re re-purposing and re-using our waste, I’ll be leery of the next generation of shiitake mushrooms and mung beans.
“Seems like a Smurf with an attitude would be a lot of fun to watch.” -- Ted Lasso
One of the reasons I coach kids is because it gives me an opportunity to teach life lessons through a game I love. I can help them compete and develop - hopefully in equal measure. So far this season, we're heavy on the latter.
After dropping our first game to a strong opponent, we faced a team that's on our level on Friday night. The kids expected to win, or at least thought they had a good chance to grab their first victory.
Before the game, I sat down on the bench with Ab, one of our senior captains. She hadn't played very much in our opening loss. I asked her how she was feeling, and she said, "Discouraged. I didn't play last game."
This was true. Also true was the fact that she didn't pout about it. In fact, she sat on the bench in the midst of a bunch of younger girls and led by example, encouraging the kids on the field, and pointing out nuances in the game to less-experienced kids. I told her that wasn't lost on me, and said that leadership shows up in lots of ways - not just on the field. It sounded good to me, anyway, and I meant it. Hope it means something to an 18 year-old with just a few weeks of high school left.
The game against a county rival didn't get off to a great start. In fact, it was delayed because the referee wouldn't let Ellie (our keeper) play until she put on socks that showed over her long goalkeeper pants. Marv Levy's famous "you're an over-officious jerk" jab came to mind. Once the game got going, the referee issued a yellow card to our coach because one of our players forgot to remove her earrings. Them's the rules, for sure, but maybe this one could've been let go with a warning. The ref's adherence to the minutiae will contrast with his interpretation of a much bigger law of the game later in our story. Foreshadowing!
Speaking of Ellie, as we were, she had a spectacular game. Probably shouldn't have needed to, but her defenders gave up a handful of reasonably easy chances that she parried. She's about 5'3" in cleats, which doesn't make for textbook keeper dimensions, but she's quick and a strong shot stopper. Midway through the second half of a scoreless tie, she stretched way beyond what I thought possible to tip a long drive off the crossbar and keep the game deadlocked.
We're a reasonably skilled team, but we're not very physical, and that ultimately cost us. One of our freshmen got bodied off a ball in our defensive half, and the opponent play a quick through ball that sprung their striker. Ellie rushed off her line, but the striker calmly slotted home to put us down 1-0.
Under-officious jerk
With the clock winding down, Kenny played a sublime ball between the opponent's center and left backs and into Kenz's run. The latter took one touch and prepared to cross the ball, and a defender barged into her from what appeared to the naked eye to be the back, inside the penalty area. Kenz is a slightly-built freshman, and the defender was solidly-built, so Kenz went all yard sale, bouncing off the turf with limbs splayed. Over-officious became suspiciously silent, and the penalty we probably deserved went wanting.
Our opponent got a late goal to make the final score 2-0. While we aren't that physical, as I noted above, Jennie did make a mark. She's the Smurf of note from the Ted Lasso quote that prefaces this post. She can't be any taller than 5'0", but she's fast and she's got good ball skills. In this game, she received a yellow card for persistent fouling, crashing into multiple larger opponents with abandon - though I'd quibble with half of the calls that went against her. Natasha's also physical, and a little bit crazy. That'll come back to bite us. Jennie's a killer. Natasha's a mess.
As our head coach told the kids after the game, we've shown a lot more in practice than we have in games. "Can we do it with the lights on?", he asked. That remains to be seen.
We got another opportunity to answer that question just three days later. On Monday, we took on a crosstown opponent with a serious soccer pedigree. They've won three state championships since 2015, and have to be considered a contender this year. During our pregame talk, I supplemented the head coach's tactical advice with an exhortation to "make them feel you", a nod to our need to be more physical. I told them that Friday Night Jennie should be their spirit animal. Which they enjoyed.
And at halftime, the opponent knew they were in a game. The score stood at 0-0, and while we were on the wrong end of the possession and shot on goal stats, we hadn't given up many good chances. By the end of the half, they resorted to longballs and low-percentage shots from distance.
Their coach was frustrated, too, sniping at Dutch about some trifle. Dutch, who's a cool customer and generally fearless, chirped back at him, saying, "Are you really picking a fight with an 18 year-old girl? Grow up." Big Dutch fan right here.
We kept them at bay for the first ten minutes of the second half before the dam broke. They scored on a header off of a long cross, then Natasha had a rush of blood to the head and clattered into an attacker in the box, which led to a penalty and another goal. Ellie rushed a clearance from a back pass and drilled it directly into a charging attacker - it deflected right into the goal. And poor marking doomed us to another open header at the back post. It was 4-0 in a span of not more than ten minutes, and we still had 20 more to play.
Funny thing happened next, though. We subbed out Ellie for Ollie, who made her varsity debut in the net, and began liberally getting the rest of the roster onto the field. Ollie quickly made two very strong saves, to her teammates' enthusiastic cheers. Our opponents made a few substitutions, but kept their entire back line intact (all four of whom play at an elite club level). Steph, one of our freshman strikers, drifted to the right side of the field and hit a shass (shot/pass) that floated over the keeper's head for a goal. After we gave up a breakaway to make it 5-1, a freshman midfielder named Sid latched on to a loose ball from about 20 yards out and lashed it upper 90 for the game's final goal. Sid had a rough start to the game, and she's really hard on herself, so that goal may turn out to matter more than a garden variety garbage-timer. Our bench erupted like we'd won the state title.
That moment told me everything I care to know about these kids. Winners as people, despite winding up on the wrong end of a 5-2 score.
We got all 26 healthy kids on the roster into the game, and we proved that we can play with a very strong opponent. We may not win a ton this year, but it looks like we'll have fun.
TR recently lamented that he has to come up with a lot of gifts for Tiara over a relatively short time span every year. He's especially busy this year so he probably doesn't have time to come up with ideas and it wouldn't surprise me if you're similarly situated. Luckily for you I'm really good at gift ideas--just ask your mother. Here are a few you should consider that worked out well for me.
Yes, this seems stupid. Who needs a $100 heated coffee mug that you control from your phone? It turns out lots of women do. zwoman drinks her coffee really slowly so she ends up microwaving it twice throughout the course of the morning. Her friends are envious of her Ember mug, which makes her enjoy it even more. I did well with this one.
Your phone is filthy. You use it in the bathroom, you let your kids use it, you fiddle with it while you're walking the dog or mowing the lawn or fixing your car or running or whatever else you do with dirty hands. You should clean it from time to time. PhoneSoap is a case that shines UV light on both sides of the phone and you can charge it in there too. UV light is commonly used to purify water because it destroys DNA--even the Australians use it! Again, this sounds silly but it was well-received.
Sneakers
Ladies is pimps too and you should help style them accordingly. Like this if they're sporty and hip, or like this if they're preppy and crisp, or like this if they're French.
Yeah I said it. And I've been saying it for a while. Everyone needs a Toto Washlet. You know who wasn't seriously affected by the toilet paper shortage? zfamily, because we're one-wipe-done after the Toto takes care of business. I haven't researched Washlets in a while but my friend's wife asked me to help her pick one out for his birthday and I steered her towards the C200. She installed it herself as a surprise so you should be able to install one too. Key features are remote control (as opposed to controls mounted on the side of the seat), oscillating nozzle (oscillating is yooodge), heated water, and heated seat. Once a woman uses a heated toilet seat she can't go back. zwoman's homegirls always rave about our warm seat and never pass up a chance to sit on it. Floss the butt crack, make you shiny, spiffy in a jiff indeed.
Everyone should have a mechanical watch. The Timex Marlin comes in various sizes and functionalities, and this 34 mm three-hander is great for a woman's wrist. Swap out the leather strap for a metal bracelet to make it sportier or a nylon NATO to make it more adventurous. The funky Arabic numerals let you do a lot style-wise, and who doesn't want 34 mm of Marlin in their lives?
What holiday is today, you might hear yourself asking... yourself. Gheorghe is here for you!
I mean, we just ran right past May Day without a mention. What's May Day, you ask?
It is an ancient festival marking the first day of summer, and a current traditional spring holiday in many European cultures. Dances, singing, and cake are usually part of the festivities.
Moose out front shoulda told ya. Hope you had some dances, singing, and cake on Saturday. If not, perhaps some gambling on equine sprinting.
We don't want you to miss any more holidays! So here you go:
"Sun Day was created to promote solar power. Sun Day also serves to remind us that the Sun is vital for the life on Earth. Without its light and heat, our planet would be ice-cold and lifeless."
"Remember when that old lumpy rug in your living room used to be smooth and comfy to walk on? Do you find yourself tripping on it now? Well, today you are in luck because National Lumpy Rug Day is a day to toss out that rug and get a new one. There can be a broader view of the day as well. It can be a day for spring cleaning in general. Not only could you replace your lumpy rug, but you could mop the floors, vacuum carpets, clean sinks and countertops, and get everything else in your house ready to go for warmer weather."
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