March Madness - Try Coaching Madness

Since my bracket is already practically worthless, I figured I'd take this time to do a little blogging. In the spirit of March Madness, I thought I'd share a little story with you.

Shortly after graduating from IU, I took a volunteer position coaching Bloomington Indiana's Special Olympic basketball team. I had some experience working with this population, and with my athletic background, I was an easy choice as a Co-Head Coach.

This particular team had won the state championship the previous 2 years. Needless to say, there was some degree of pressure and expectation that came with this position.

Coaching was another story altogether. While trying to teach a proper bounce pass, I also had to deal with the guy, who's first words to me were, "I'm Jordan, just get me the ball. I'm Jordan." Getting this guy to not shoot every time he touched the ball was a full time job in and of itself.

While trying to teach the fundamentals of a 1-2-2 Zone Full Court Press Defense, I had to keep the guy focused, who had no idea what deodorant and/or a shower was.

During games, making sure everyone played was always a challenge. Especially when our Jr. Bobby Knight would throw a chair onto the court. Something he'd do at lease 3 times a game.

You think the AAU parents are bad? You think the soccer mom is tough to deal with. You haven't seen anything until you've dealt with one of these psycho parents.

Yeah, I know, a lot of pressure. Good thing we had our secret weapons. We had 3 guys on our team that were just really stupid. Really stupid. Stupid to the point where the state of Indiana considered them to have an actual disability. Great for me though. I'd stagger their minutes so that I had at least 2 of them on the floor at all times.

I remember our very first game. There was this guy on the other team with one normal arm, and then one chicken wing arm that he couldn't use at all. Funny thing was, he had a great shot. This guy was going nuts on us. At halftime, we were down 16 points and this guy had most of their points.

During my halftime pep talk, I got a little fired up. In front of the whole team, I challenged our best ringer to guard Chicken Wing the rest of the game. "Everywhere he goes, I want you right there with him. If he goes to the bathroom, you're going with him. If he goes to McDonalds, I want you sitting right next to him." My ringer ate up the attention and my team loved it.

Chicken Wing ended up not scoring again, and we won the game. To this day, I can very clearly remember how pitiful and dejected he looked every time he tried to shoot a one-handed J with my ringer hanging all over him. I got a few punches on my express ticket to hell for that one.

Have a great weekend everyone, and enjoy the games!

Baba Ganoush, OUT.

Ramble Alert - Aging, Therapy, and Cremains

I want to first thank everyone for the kind words left earlier in the week about my daughter. She is doing just fine. I got worked up for nothing - just being an over-protective Dad. God help us all when she starts dating. Her older brother (2 yo) is starting to be very protective of her, which is funny to watch, and oddly not due to my influence at all.

That said, let me start my rambling, or I'll never get through this. I love everything about being a Dad. I wouldn't trade that for the world, but my kids are a constant reminder that I'm getting old. That would be fine, if they were the only reminders.

In the past I have ranted about my grey hair and my early onset of Alzheimer's. Up until now, I've dealt with my rapidly aging self pretty well. Most of my life, I've been characterized by my athletic ability. Surprisingly, I've taken the fact that my abilities have diminished (or at least the fact that I don't use them anymore) very well.

I was okay when I could no longer be introduced as a Big Ten Football player. I'd played football for 14 years, and then one day it was gone. To this day I don't think I've internally dealt with the void that was left in me when football went away.

I was okay when I decided to stop playing rugby, despite playing a key role on a national championship runner-up team. In some parts of the country, rugby is taken very seriously. My time playing rugby enabled me to relive some of my glory days. Well, on a smaller scale, but I still got the attention I needed.

I am even okay with the fact that I have not played basketball in 2 years. There was a time when I played everyday. I remember when I went home one summer we played with the lunch crowd at noon. We would then play with the evening guys around 6 pm. We would end our day playing with the Kent State guys around midnight.

My athletic endeavors these days are mostly playing Wii Sports, chasing the little guy around the house, and mowing the lawn. Yes, I know, very sad.

Given all that, I think I've been pretty good with the grey hair and Alzheimer's situation. Well, I can't take anymore! For the past year of so, I have been eyeing up some hair that had sprouted from the corner of my inner ear. At first it was just a little fuzz. Then it got longer and darker. I finally had to have my wife trim it with a little pair of scissors, which in and of itself carried a fair amount of dignity loss.


The straw that broke them camels back came during the holidays and while I was Christmas shopping. Not sure if you guys have seen these skate shoes the kids are wearing. I'm in the mall, kids everywhere, and some of them just start rolling around on their shoes. I literally said to myself, "those god damn kids, and their skating shoes." I give it until June, and I'm telling the neighbor kids to turn down their blasted music as I sit on my rocking chair on the porch.

So, is that what I'm considering seeking therapy for? No! In my last post, I made a reference to The Exorcist. I mistakenly called Linda Blair, Natalie Blair.








What in the hell was this Freudian slip all about. I really don't want to know! Gotta love Blair though. Lisa Welchel was so cute back in the day! Get out of my head Mindy Cohn! GET OUT NOW! That's all I have to say about that.

Which brings me to my last little tid bit. Earlier in the week, Dan blogged about Cremains. I made a promise to briefly explore my phobia of funeral homes and morticians. My uncle is a mortician. Growing up I would play at the funeral home where he worked (and now owns). The owners at the time had kids that were around my age (8 or 9 at the time). They had an enormous house, half of which was dedicated to being the funeral home.

We would play hide and seek, and they would always hide in the casket room. The casket room had a staircase that went directly to the embalming room. I remember going there at times when they had a body that was ready to be shown, and the kids were always fiddling with the body. The image that is etched in my mind is of their boy taking glasses off of an elderly woman and wearing them. To this day, I am very uncomfortable visiting them. This is a profession that all the money in the world couldn't get me to do!

This phobia was reinforced later in life by The Tall Man, Angus Scrimm. I think I saw Phantasm at an age when I had no business watching a movie like that, and thus, the emotional scar.

Have a Great Weekend!!!

Baba Ganoush, OUT.

Happy New Year, Drunken Debauchery, and Reminiscing

Wow, has it really been almost 2 weeks since I posted my Natalie Portman Gansta Rap? I thought a break from work would give my plenty of opportunities to post. I was wrong. I guess I need the mundane daily grind of work to force me to blog!

So, on the eve of my first day back to work in almost 3 weeks, I thought I'd get back into the swing of things.



I was going to take the opportunity to blog about my New Year's resolutions, but to be honest, my resolutions are pretty standard. And I, like most people, will most likely break them within the first month. In fact, I think I've already broken at least 2 of them. And since I don't own a flying car, 2007 is off to a pretty disappointing start.

I'm sure a lot of you spent some time over the past few weeks a little under the influence (some, I'm sure, A LOT under the influence). For the most part, my days of "tying one on" are behind me.

*Side Comment* - "Tying one on," was a phrase I heard a lot when I lived in Wisconsin. During my time up there, I was able to ascertain that it meant going out and getting really drunk, which I did quite a bit. I still have no idea though where that phrase came from and/or what I was tying on and where.

Last week, I had the pleasure to turn back the clock a bit and tie one on with a few friends. I had a great time in Broad Ripple, IN, where my drink of choice for the night was Vodka and Red Bull. I lost count after 8 of them. In the past, this sort of drinking might have led me to engage in Weird activity #3. These days, I seem to be able to drink in excess, not get sick and am rarely hung over (yes, I know, this might be part of a larger problem). A few of my comrades in tying things on were not so lucky. Recounting their drunken debauchery the next day was almost as fun as the night before.

In an effort to avoid a Slander and Libel Suit from a few people, I will adhere to the age old saying - What happened in Broad Ripple, will stay in Broad Ripple. I will though, share a story of my drunken debauchery from times past.

In college, I had 3 roommates. For purposes of this blog, and any future references to the roommates, let's refer to them as Dan, Joel, and Julian (the names have been changed to protect the innocent).

So, it was one year after graduation, and Julian was getting married in Columbus, IN. Columbus is a small town just east of where we all went to school. The groom's wedding party consisted of all the roommates. Friday night was rehearsal, and you know what that means - stake your claim to a bride's maid, try to get the groom to come to his senses, and get hammered.

The wedding and reception were at the Holiday Inn, which is also where we all stayed. And, as luck would have it, this Holiday Inn had its own night club! And, to no one's surprise, it was the place to be on a Friday and Saturday night in Columbus.

There we were, living the High Life in Columbus Indiana. Joel and Julian spent the night, well, being Joel and Julian. Dan and I spent the night trying to figure out when Julian's little sister's boobs had gotten so big. That, and hitting on some of the locals.

After numerous attempts by the roommates, Julian refused to back out, and went to bed at a reasonable 11pm. Joel disappeared like he always does. Dan and I closed down the bar, like we always do. At this point, it was around 2am, and Dan decided to go door to door in an effort to find Julian's sister. He did not find her room, but he did find several of Julian's and the bride's relatives rooms.

Unfortunately, Dan's waking up of Grandma and Grandpa Julian to hook up with their granddaughter, was NOT the hot topic the next day. You see, I topped Dan - by a long shot!

When I made it back to the room I was sharing with Joel, I proceeded to "get sick" in the room. At some point, Dan came by to see if I was okay. I give him credit for that, but he was probably still on his search. After making sure I was okay by dumping water on me as I laid in my bed, they were nice enough to take me out of my wet clothes - ALL OF THEM!

So there I am. Naked, passed out, and laying on a wet bed. They had their standard fun with me using shaving cream, lotion, and tooth paste (no, there was no sort of penetration. This is NOT that kind of story).

To this day, I don't know which one it was, but they decided to kick it up a notch. Well, who could blame them? They already had the shaving cream out. They shaved the back of my legs all the way up to my ass. Apparently though, shaving the back of my legs was not good enough. One of them even had to bright idea to flip me over and shave my private parts (knowing the Dan and Joel like I do, I have no doubt, it was Joel). Thinking about those 2 drunkards tooling around the family jewels with a disposable razor makes my skin crawl! Thankfully, I had beat them to it days before with a fresh trim.

It would be nice if this is where the story ended, but oh no, not this night. There we were, Joel snuggled nicely under his covers. Me - naked, laying on top of wet sheets. Around 5 am, I woke up freezing. I did what anybody would do. Go hop in the tub, fill it up with warm water and pass out again there. For the next 3 hours or so, I would lay there, adding more hot water every time I woke up cold. Around 8am, Joel got up and went to breakfast. He claims he checked on me, and I was fine. Needless to say, I remained in the tub - naked.

Circa 8:30 am, the maid came! After knocking with no answer, she entered the room to do her job. To the terror of the 50 something Hispanic lady, who barely spoke English, she found a large man passed out in a tub full of water. So, the call went out - directly to the Bride and her parents - There was a man in their block of rooms dead in the bath tub.

After determining I was still alive, things settled down a bit. As the story filtered through the both families and all the other guests, everyone had a good laugh (everyone, but the bride). I still get together with my roommates once or twice a year, and this story is always a favorite to recount.

A bit of me thought that sharing a story like this might be a little much. But if I can't share a drunken story with people who I'll never meet in real life, what is the world coming to.

Baba Ganoush, OUT!