Way Back Machine - Lone Victory of '83

scoreboard in the distance says it all - victory, finally

In taking a break from shoveling, the way back machine today takes us back to my junior year of high school, 1983, and the football season that, according to the adult beverage-induced stories I hear from former teammates each year at the annual fishing trip up north, was "this close" to being undefeated. Well, I'm hear to set that legend straight. We were what the results showed. Scoring a total of six touchdowns in the first six games isn't going to cut it. The "Mitchell left" and "Mitchell right" play calls were a bit on the predictable side and it showed in the results. Losing your first six games is a kick in the rear. The coach would always tell us after each loss that the other team said we were the hardest hitting team they had seen all year, whatever that is good for besides a future of short-term memory loss. I remember one practice during the losing streak where the head coach was coaching us up during sprints, asking out loud what we thought the problem with the losing was. One player, who shall be nameless, spoke up and said two words that every exhausted teammate may have thought of but would never say out loud, "bad coaching." "Bad coaching!!!, replied the coach, "We're running forever!!!" And so we ran.  

That all changed one crisp fall evening as Pinckney came in for homecoming in game seven. A whopping they received as I'm not sure if we had it clicking or they were that bad; or there was a full moon. My theory is we finally found a team that could match our 170 pound lineman. Here nor there, the "we suck less" chants I'm sure were heard in the distance once the clock struck zero and a 42-0 victory for the Redskins. Heck, I even got to play in that game.

I guess we used up all our touchdowns in that game as we went goose egg in the final two. Using the "half glass full" angle, we did win one more game than the '82 team who lost all nine that year. Using the "half glass empty" angle, that was a lot of losing.

I don't know the words to our fight song but "oskee-wa-wa" to all my former teammates.

Trail Head

 

Seeking Information and Getting a Bill of Goods

So there I was Thursday evening at the fishing expo in town with all the usual suspects in attendance mixed in with the many angler exhibits. You had the many beef jerky booths. The "sign" booth with signs such as "Beer. Helping ugly people have sex since 1769." The magic bracelet booth (bracelet cures body aches). The spine check booth (mine still crooked).The t-shirt booth where the shirts drop three sizes after the first wash. The buy one, get two free sunglasses booth. The 5-hour energy booth. They were all here. I was sad that I didn't see the Sham-Wow booth but maybe I just missed them. My mission on this wintry evening was to stock up on some lures and hopefully enhance my fishing knowledge at one of the many seminars.

I completed the first half of my mission in that I have enough wacky worms and o-rings to last at least through the spring. The latter part of the mission was a bill of goods, however. The title of the seminar I attended, Smallmouth Solutions, lead you to believe that you were going to get some secrets on catching bass. The entire seminar felt more like an infomercial as all the guy did was push the lures he was selling at the show. Of course the lures were working because the fish were hungry as heck. I could have put a bare hook and got something out of the pool. The one tip he did give in that the secret to catching lots of fish is (drum roll please).......using your favorite lure. "And of course your favorite lure can be my tube lures on sale now at my booth right behind you." 

Fish on, sell on.

Trail Head

Way Back Machine - Tales Of Crooked Stumps

In the spirit of the holiday season, the way back machine takes us back about ten years to my parent's place. It had always been a tradition in my family that the tree was a real one; fake trees need not apply. Of course, when the purchaser of said tree is the master negotiator (my dad), some of the trees over the years were, let's say, original. My mom would always work her magic, though, in getting the tree up to Christmas standards. Whether it was moving the bald side of the tree to the corner or jimmy-rigging the tree holder to accept the crooked stump where it actually looked straight, she had a gift. That all changed one chilly December evening, however.

In came the tree that the master negotiator had purchased with one of the more impressive stump angles that I had seen in quite some time. Up went the tree and was decorated as impressive as ever. The retired couple went to bed that night only to be awoken in the wee hours of the morning by the sound of ornaments falling as down went the tree! Not to be denied, the negotiator's wife cleaned the damage, got the tree upright and Christmas was on again! It was short lived, however, as the tree took a second fall a little while later. And that, my friends, was the end of real Christmas tree tradition in my family. The next time I was over to the house, it was fake green on!. I wasn't there to see the act but I'll bet my mom threw that crooked tree to the curb with quite a vengeance that winter day.  

Happy Holidays

Trail Head

X-mas Party 2.0

I have to give a shout out to Mike W. for the title of this post. Mike and I were the lame-o's that missed the previous weekend's CMU x-mas gathering. He lives two-plus hours away so his alibi in not making it was a bit stronger than mine. Here nor there, Mike would not be denied of hanging with friends so Friday afternoon/evening was Party 2.0 with five former Merrill Hall residents in attendance at my compound. Mike still had his x-mas gift that didn't get distributed the previous weekend and I had mine so you are looking at the proud recipient of a Mel Weaver CD (good tunes) and two delicious micro beers from the west side of the state. Mike's kids are probably trying to out clap each other with The Clapper as I write this.

Clap on, clap off....
Trail Head

"Bullied" By Your Friends

priceless gift

So there I was yesterday evening, headed west for the annual CMU Christmas gathering. I had my priceless gift to distribute ("The Clapper") and my dish to pass (pistachios); I was ready to go. So out the door I went; slowly I ventured through my neighborhood as my two wheel drive truck with no weight in the back LOVES the snow (insert sarcasm). It took me about 30 minutes to make it to the highway as I had to do the "little engine that could" chant at each one degree incline on Grand River. With that, I made the business decision to head back to home base rather than having to call AAA from a ditch. After getting home, I sent out a text to the homeowner and a couple others that I wouldn't be making it. The replies I received are why I love my friends. One was just plain, "pussy." Not to be outdone, the second reply comes in from another, "need a new truck; pussy." Hilarious.

No, this was not "bullying" as I wouldn't expect any other reply from my friends. I thankfully came from the era where a "bully" was just a bad-ass dude. In my junior high years, I guess you could have classified R. Cooper as a bully. He had an entourage before the word was even used. He never picked on me but he had a presence; until we all outgrew him in high school. Then he was just a short dude.

Sorry I missed the party Chippewa-ers. Maybe we'll see you next week.

Until then, shovel on.

Trail Head 

East Lansing - Parking Ticket Stories

Four Spartan alums returned to the place where the parking ticket police bring in the second highest source of income besides tuition to the university. As we drove through campus looking for a place to tailgate, the way back machine was spinning as we passed the Public Safety building; the place where you paid your parking tickets. Yep, they collected their fare share from me (umm...thanks Mom) as one spring day back in '89, yours truly was walking out of the IM East building, looking for the red VW Rabbit that I used to drive. After 20 minutes or so of walking the lot, I came to the only conclusion possible. Someone had stolen my car! Then again, why would someone want to steal a 10-year-old car with bald tires, wires coming out of the seats and a gas gauge that doesn't work? After reporting this blatant crime to the authorities, it was determined that young Tim had accumulated a few (read: whole lotta) parking tickets in his two year stay in East Lansing. Another valuable lesson learned in the life of the large melon.    

Parking ticket blues aside, it was great to be back in East Lansing. While the students were off on break, that didn't stop the spirit that this group pictured below had going. I'll bet they all have a parking ticket balance with the Public Safety folks as well; one ticket away from the dreaded tow truck. Until then, piggy-back on! 

Trail Head

nice view of Lansing from the stadium

TIMBRRRR!!!!

 

Iron City Hospitality

I am happy to report that there is still some "service" in the service industry this past weekend as four cornbread eating Lion fans and one wise Steeler backer embarked on the town of steel in search of some football (obviously) and getting to know our neighbors to the east. A nice bunch they are, and that is not being sarcastic. Maybe they were just feeling sorry for us "slappies" for following the Lions? Could be.  

Scenario number one had us at our hotel a bit early on Saturday morning. With five large human beings along with the luggage for said large human beings, things can get a bit snug, even in the large vehicle we were in. That said, we hoped to at least drop off our luggage as it was only about 10 AM. The Hampton folks, however, let us check-in, two rooms ready to go! The luggage was dropped and off to tourist mode we went. There was talk earlier in the week of possibly picking up some culture at the various museums in the area, but.....we got side tracked just a bit enjoying some river scenery, refreshing cold beverages, and football. No love lost for me on missing the museums.

Lady luck was with us for the Sunday morning tailgate as our parking spot was under a freeway overpass, keeping us dry from the rain and only about a 15 minute walk to the stadium. The Steeler fans didn't trash talk too bad as compared to say, the Brown fans. Again, maybe they were just taking pity on us Honolulu and Blue backers. 

So the tailgate scene was good, we pack the gear and head for the stadium. Within 10 seconds of walking in the stadium, this stadium representative more or less is right on us, giving us detailed information on where to go for exchanging a few of our tickets for handicap access. His directions were spot on and a few minutes later, we were in the guest services office talking it up with them on everything from "What do people from Pittsburgh call themselves (not 'Pittsburghers' but can't remember what they said)?" to "Did the University of Pittsburgh used to have their own football stadium (they did)?" So there we are with five tickets and
I'm hoping best case scenario, two tickets can be exchanged; worst case, they pack Jimmy into a crowded row in the upper deck. Well, we received the "no way" scenario as all five of us we were sitting at about the 48 yard line, ten rows up from the Lion bench. Coach Swartz could have heard us had we yelled loud enough. Again, there is nothing better than when "service" really does mean service. The Lions of course blew the game but that isn't the fault of the locals who treated us to a great time this weekend.      

Thank you Steeler nation.

Trail Head

 

 

Mt. Washington

tailgate headquarters

 

poor Lion fans to the right walking it back after a rough loss