A memorable Memorial Day

HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY TO ALL OF YOU AND TO ALL WHO HAVE SERVED OUR COUNTRY. WITHOUT YOUR BRAVE SERVICE FOR THE DEFENSE OF THIS GREAT LAND, WE WOULD BE A RATHER LARGE CUBA.

On this glorious yet somber national holiday, we were awakened by the stunning news that patriot and erstwhile college football coach of THE Ohio State University Buckeyes, Jim Tressel, 58, resigned from his 10 year post due to his involvement in the current NCAA firestorm caused by his players and paid for by Tressel's own dismissal.

Early this morning on a quiet newsday, Tressel's statement rocked the sleeping media world from its holiday slumber. "After meeting with university officials, we agreed that in the best interest of Ohio State University that I resign as the head football coach. The appreciation that my wife, Ellen, and I have for the Buckeye Nation is immeasurable."

Tressel, an Ohio native, an arguably Ohio's favorite son, had served 10 glorious years as the Buckeyes head coach. His record at Ohio State was 106-22. 6-4 in Bowl games. Won a national Championship in 2002. And for most Buckeye fans, the most important stat of his tenure was his 9-1 record against their hated rival to the north, Michigan. For all of his winning efforts, Tressel became the highest paid public employee in the Buckeye State at $3.5MIL a year plus perks and incentives.

In short, the NCAA charged some of Tressel's star players, including their senior starting quarterback Terrelle Pryor, with selling their championship rings, jerseys and what not to an alleged Columbus drug dealer/tattoo artist for tattoos. Yes, you read that right. Not for money but for tattoos. Kinda validates the opinion of most, that college football players aren't the brightest beacons in the room. Wait, add college football coaches to that dubious description.

Tressel's fault was that he knew about it and lied to the NCAA during its investigation to protect his players, his program and himself, although not necessarily in that order. The report stated, "Tressel failed to deport himself with honesty and integrity." That one sentence doomed Tressel. Ann Arbor must be partying like it's 1999 to borrow a line from Michigan native, pop icon, Prince.

So, the decent man in the grey sweater vest has fallen from his lofty perch at the Horseshoe. His poor judgement negated his contract...adios to several million dollars. His legacy is tarnished. The University is embarrassed. Crimes were committed by players under his watch. But the cover-up by Tressel was worse. And for what? A few ugly badass tattoos followed by lies. "It just don't make no goddam sense."

But, let's put some healthy perspective into this pathetic and perverse melodrama above...Tressel will survive this. He still has his life. He has tons of money. And his family, from what I know, is still intact. That's not the case at Camp Liberty in Iraq pictured above. Our brave men and women in uniform are putting their lives on the line everyday without fanfare and headlines for us and for those who cannot defend themselves against terror. They have no safety net just each other. Most come from nothing and will return to nothing after their deployments. Tressel will go on and prosper. Our soldiers survival and future health is not so assured.

So, on this Memorial Day, remember those who have made the ultimate sacrifice for this great land. They gave it all to serve and for that we honor them today. But in reality, each day should be memorial day. Let us never forget them.

God bless our troops serving our country in the world's badlands.

Orange Crush

The above picture may not mean much to most of you but to those who care that is Kevin Tway in the orange shirt in the middle. To those of you who may not know who Kevin Tway is, he is the #3 player in college golf. This weekend, Kevin and his band of gifted golfers from the modern golf factory known as Oklahoma State University, OSU, creamed the field in the NCAA Rocky Mountain Regionals at the Colorado National Golf Club. And orange is their favorite color.

Kevin, son of senior professional golfer Bob Tway, was the low scoring individual of the tournament at 10 under par. His team was 31 under par. All five of OSU's players placed individually among the top 13 players in the field. Bested the field by 18 shots. It was an awesome team display of golf talent and superiority on a tough, 7700 yards long, weather plagued Jay Morrish designed golf course with stiff team competition from around the United States. And Tway isn't even the best golfer on this team. The #1 player in college golf is teammate, Peter Uihlein. Talk about loaded.

Suffice it to write, Oklahoma State, known as the Cowboys, will take their filthy dominant game to their home course, the Tom Fazio gem Karsten Creek in Stillwater, host of the NCAA 2011 Men's Golf Championships early next month. Do the other 29 qualifying teams have a chance against this band of Cowboys who do shoot straight? If the answer is yes, from what I saw this weekend, it would trump the David v Goliath story.

Let me get this right. The #1 collegiate golf team in the country is playing for the NCAA Championship on their home golf course. How was this arranged by Yenta the matchmaker? Not only is the team as good as any assembled in the history of the event, the event is played on one of the toughest surliest golf courses in the country, Karsten Creek. And the home team Cowboys know every nuance of the place. Good luck to the visitors.

Karsten Creek is 7400 yards at sea level with water, wind, trees, contours, ornery bunkers and slippery greens all conspiring to not only protect par but prohibit par. The last time the NCAA's came to Karsten Creek in 2003, 39 over par won the team championship. I remember one of those diabolical holes #17. A long uphill into the wind over water par 4 measuring 471 yards. Even if the player finds the 15 yard plus wide fairway, he's left with a 200 yard plus second shot into a perched green that is severely sloped right to left. The only thing stopping a left of center approach is the lapping water from Lake Louise. Some days, the prevailing southern wind blows at 30mph into the faces of the players. Fazio must have been in a foul mood that day when this hole was conceived. Isn't golf hard enough even on a perfect weather day? Stairmasters. Wind tunnels. Sand jails. Sherwood Forests. Car hoods. And the Weezie's water. Oh my.

There are few calm days in the Oklahoma prairie. That's why the golfing alums from OSU find Mr. Wind a friend of kinky sorts. It should come as no surprise that three of the best wind players on the PGA Tour are OSU grads. Ricky Fowler, Hunter Mahan and Scott Verplank at crunch time hope it blows. These three honed their games into the howling dustbowl winds of Oklahoma. I suspect Cowboy teammates Tway, Uihlein, Sean Einhaus, Morgan Hoffman and Talor Gooch pray before the tourney for Mr. Wind to blow like a mother all five days of the tournament. For that is what they are used to. Golf and wind...the perfect marriage. It just makes sense to the Cowboys.

So, golfers who care, follow this tourney on your media toys and enjoy the show. It airs on Turners NCAA.com on the following dates: June 3 top 8 teams; June 4 final 4 teams; and, June 5, the finals. Check you local listings for more coverage. Hope you like the color orange, you'll see alot of it on the green in Stillwater that week.

Wrigley "Field of Charm"

Last week, I traveled with my family to a rare fair weather Chicago to see the visiting St. Louis Cardinals play a three game series at the venerable Wrigley Field and the home of the Chicago Cubs. It was my first time in Wrigley to see the Cards play their age-old nemesis, the Cubbies. It was one of those special slices of time for me. To share it with family members, who are avid baseball fans as well, was that much more meaningful.

The first thing you notice when you arrive at 1060 W. Addison Street in the Lakeview section of Chicago, home of Wrigley Field, is the throbbing excitement surrounding the park. The neighborhood envelopes the park. Fans, both red and blue, engaged in a street party atmosphere before the game. Pubs overflowing. BBQ smells wafting through the air. Vendors scalping tickets. Parking attendants hawking spaces. Cars and buses racing by. Fire engines blasting their sirens a few streets away. Police trying to hold it all together. The L punctuating the street chaos noise with it's own signature noise of steel upon steel screeching and moaning. And this is mid-May. Only 30 plus games into the season. I've been told by locals this is the gameday atmosphere for ANY Cubs games. If only the wannabe rival interloper Cincinnati Reds had such fervor from their fan base.

Once inside the park you see how the surrounding pulsing cityscape absorbs Wrigley like a large beer garden that just happens to have a ballfield in the middle of it all. It's cozy. It's loud. It's visually stimulating. It reminded me of a set from Mr. Roger's neighborhood years ago on PBS. It's that cute. There are the rooftop seats aligning Waveland and Sheffield Avenues with their beyond bleacher seats. There is the old manual scoreboard sans Jumbotron. There's the Boston ivy still in winter shock trying to wake up on the outfield walls. There is an obvious absence of advertisments within the park. There is the constant hum from the bordering streets even after you're inside the park. There are the flagpoles with the wind-tattered flags that are more confused than a Sarah Palin audience. Wind blows in. Wind blows out. Wind blows every which way. There are the lights that were installed only 23 years ago. (The park is 97 years old). Change doesn't come hurriedly and freely to Wrigley but neither do wins. The Cubs have never won a World Series in Wrigley. In fact, the Cubs last World Series championship was in 1908, 103 years ago, in old West Side Park.

In the three game series, we saw great baseball. Cards took 2 out of 3 from the Cubs. Cubs looked offensively strong but their pitching and team defense was poor. In light of this generational Cub ineptitude, there is one certainty that is everlasting: their fans are blindly loyal to their team. This is a perennial loser franchise with a fan base that is one of the most passionate in sports. Frankly, I don't get their love affair. Yearly, Cubs fans, all 3 million plus a year in Wrigley attendance and millions more around the globe, give so much and the Cubs team delivers so little. And for what...another losing season? Where's the quid pro quo here? How 'bout something for the effort, Cubbies?

My personal introduction to an authentic Cubs fan came before the start of the game one of the three game series. I was returning to my seat from the concession stand with my daughter and Olde Styles in hand when I noticed a couple of Cardinal fans standing amidst Cubbie blue in the lower deck. A father was wearing an Albert Pujols #5 Cardinal jersey while holding his adorable one year old son wearing the same jersey, albeit a bit smaller. Matching jerseys...how cute. I stopped, aimed by camera phone at them with finger on the trigger when all of a sudden an over-fed and over-served bellicose Cubs fan nearby yelled at me, "take your f_ _ _ _ ing lousy Cardinal cap off for the National Anthem." Excuse me, but we haven't met, I muttered. Oh well...no worries. Not in Busch Stadium anymore. So, I removed my Cardinal cap, thanked him for reminding me of my patriotic duty to remove it during the anthem and slunked away to my seat.

The Cards left town in first place. I left town thinking about my pleasant and not so pleasant Wrigley experiences. Grateful that my team is the St. Louis Cardinals and not the Chicago Cubs, notwithstanding, the inimitable Wrigley Field and its beyond loyal sozzled fans.

Postscript: As for the notorious weather that seems to dominate any visit to Chicago, it did not disappoint. In a matter of days, the weather changed from mid-July temps to December temps complete with ferocious moisture-laden arctic winds coming off Lake Michigan. Just another Chi-town weather front passing by. The Chicago weather like the Cubs are very similar...both lousy. But Wrigley's fun...and "they have that going for them which is nice."

Atlas Shrugged, The Movie Part One

Currently, there is a movie out of which most folks are unaware, Atlas Shrugged, The Movie Part One. One has to look real hard online, in the papers and in town theatres for any mention of it.

After some furious digging around, I found it in a jerkwater theatre on the outskirts of Denver a couple of weeks ago. You see, it's as if the powers of Hollywood and its conspiring distributors, did not want this movie to see the dark of a theatre and the light of the media. They would have been happier if it never survived the cutting room floor. Why? Because the liberal biased moviemakers don't like the movie's message of capitalism is good, making money is our right and the unbridled powers of government makes those two noble goals counter-intuitive, difficult and in some cases damn near impossible. They fear that the content of the movie may make people think differently, that is, differently from Hollywood's version of reality. That's the threat to H'wood. Hollywood infers making money is only right if you do it under their script, direction, production and distribution. Sounds like the "Department of Cultural Enforcement" at work here.

As you know, the movie is based on Ayn Rand's timeless masterpiece, Atlas Shrugged. Written in 1957, Atlas Shrugged is a 1000 page fictional tome brilliantly written with a complex message that an over-reaching and intrusive government in and of itself will destroy the ambition of the individual. Government versus the individual. The taker versus the maker. A classic battle. Rand posits, rather exhaustively, to the reader, whose side are you on? It's worth the self-examination.

The book and movie heroine, Dagney Taggert, and the quintessential disaffected capitalist/oilman, Ellis Wyatt, both pictured above, are the protagonists in this drama. Dagney and Ellis along with Hank Reardon, the other "disgusting capitalist", subscribes to the philosophy that, "I will gamble with my own mind. I won't let anybody else do it...and the most depraved man is a man without a purpose."

While the governmental fictional antagonists, The Departments of "Equalization of Opportunity", "State Science Institute", "Ministry of Welfare", "Moral Conditioning", "Unification Board", "Public Stability", "Economic Planning and National Resources", promotes the notion that, "All thought is theft. If we do away with private fortunes, we'll have a fairer distribution of wealth. If we do away with the genius, we'll have a fairer distribution of ideas." Thus, initiating a governmental fiat, "the government needs wider powers" to help the people.

After watching the movie, I thought as I always do about books made into movies...the book was better. Seriously, how do you make a movie from such an epochal novel? A movie morphed from a classic book by nature is silly and a cheap imposter of true genius.

Would I recommend the movie? Not really. It won't be up for any Oscars. So, save your money and go buy the book at a paperback discount at Costco (yes, they carry it now). Set aside a week in some cultural wasteland without distraction and read it. It will take quiet thoughtful time. It will do one of three things for sure: inflame you, change you or confirm you.

Who is John Galt?

Manny and Freddie, Batman and Robin

Is there a more successful tandem or partnership in sports than reigning World Welterweight Champion, the pride of Sarangani Province Filipino boxer Manny Pacquiao, and his trainer, Freddie Roach? I don't think so. Manny is Batman to Freddie's Robin...but not exactly. Sometimes, I wonder who is driving the batmobile. Who cares. Both are capable. A sure sign of a good team.

In his career, Manny has won in eight different weight classes. Flyweight to Light Middleweight. 108 pounds to 154 pounds. Manny has fought all comers in 8 weight classes. In 58 fights, his record is 53-3-2. Really astounding. Arguably, Manny is the best pound for pound boxer in the history of boxing. And Freddie has been at his side, as trainer during his professional ascendancy. You may know about Manny. But, who is this Freddie Roach character?

Freddie, 51, was a professional boxer, a lightweight, from a boxing Massachusetts family. He had a respectable record and actually fought for the world championship in the 1980's. He lost. His biggest payday was $7500. After his career ended, Freddie worked as busboy and waiter in Las Vegas. On the side and on the cheap (free), he worked as an aid to Hall of Fame trainer, Eddie Futch. He learned his craft from Eddie and he too, Freddie, became a professional trainer.

From his years as a boxer, Freddie contracted Parkinson's disease while in his 40's. Parkinson's is a crippling disorder of the brain that leads to tremors and difficulty in walking and moving. Nonetheless, Freddie arrives at his gym, Wild Card Boxing Club in Hollywood, California, everyday to train the best fighters in the world. The stallion of his current stable is 8 time world champion Manny Pacquiao.

The medical experts say that Freddie's Parkinson's condition has stabilized for the time being. Why? They feel because of Freddie's intense physical work with Manny and the other boxers that has actually slowed the progress of the disease. And these are no pansy workouts. Freddie gets into the ring with pads and mitts and runs his pugilists through a battery of boxing drills. You must see it to believe it. With the shakes and all, Freddie takes some of Manny's best shots albeit protected by a chest pad. Talk about courage and guts. No wimps allowed in that gym.

This past Saturday, Manny and Freddie were on boxing's world stage again against challenger, "Sugar" Shane Mosley for the WBO World Welterweight Championship from a packed MGM Grand arena in Las Vegas, Nevada.

Manny did his thing in the ring while Freddie did his thing outside the ring. Both magic. And the result? Another win for the team. Manny kept the World Championship belt and received $20million purse for the 12 round fight.

After a rather dull workmanlike fight, the hapless Jim Gray asked a smiling but weary Manny in an interview, "you weren't sharp tonight." Manny responded, "my legs were tight but I fight to make the people happy." I don't know about the people being happy but I do know one person is really happy, and that is, Freddie Roach. He's not waiting tables and busing dishes anymore in Vegas. Some of that $20mil purse is rightfully his and Manny knows it.

Right now, Manny and Freddie own Vegas and the boxing world. And it couldn't happen to a better duo.

As for Floyd Mayweather, Jr., you don't belong in the same sentence with....the above.

Seve, The Master of the Green

This past Saturday, the world of golf sadly lost one of it's lions, Severiano Ballesteros, 56, from Spain, the father of modern European golf and the winner of 5 Major Golf Championships. Seve died stubbornly after two plus years of hell battling a malignant brain tumor. A terrible ending for someone so gifted, so charismatic, so courageous, so handsome, so young....so everything. Not only a multiple winner on the professional worldwide golf circuit, Seve, more importantly, was a tv room winner of 100 million plus hearts around planet golf. He lived a modest 54 years but his memory will endure forever for those people who recognized and respected his competitive genius and skill in such a tough game, golf.

Many of you know of Seve's exploits on the golf courses of the world as a professional golfer. St. Andrews. Augusta. Royal Lytham and St. Annes. Ryder Cup. He beat the best in the world on golf's grandest stages and moments. Nicklaus, Watson, Crenshaw, Langer, Kite, Price, Floyd, Irwin all bobbed in his wake. However in awe his professional opponents were of his game, we his adoring public and seriously-flawed Walter Mitty wannabee good golfers, stood in greater awe. Why? Because his game was so human, so flawed yet divine.

We connected on a visceral level with Seve. We all had something in common with Seve. We hit it sideways off the tee, like Seve. Totally human. But that's where the similarity ended. While we stayed in trouble after the second and sometimes third shots, Seve miraculously extricated himself from trouble the first time. He showed us how to do it. Get out of trouble and save par and maybe birdie. Recovery was possible. Seve did it. He gave us hope to make the shot. He made golf fun and thrilling even in the darkest of times.

Revered columnist of the LA Times, Jim Murray, wrote of Seve, "Seve Ballesteros goes after a golf course the way a lion goes after a zebra." But I get the sense that Seve did not reserve this style only to golf but to everyday life. As Red said in the movie Shawshank Redemption, "get busy living or get busy dying." Seve lived fully until he was not able.

Seve made the European Golf Tour relevant in the same way Arnold Palmer made the PGA Tour relevant to the fan. They had an authentic human embrace for the fans and for the game and in turn we had it for them.

Seve, your pain is over now, golf and your fans will miss you but we will never forget you. Thank you for the memories.

May God welcome you warmly in the prized foursome above.

Que descanse en paz.

Ole! Ole!! Ole!!!

"Because it's there."

In 1926, English mountaineer, George Mallory, was asked by the British press, "why do you climb Mount Everest?" George uttered the three most famous words in the mountaineering world, "because it's there." What's there? The top of the world.

Bordered by Tibet, Nepal and China, Mount Everest, known by the local Sherpa population as Chomolangma "Goddess Mother of Snows" is the world's highest point above sea level at 29,035 feet (8,850 meters). To put those numbers into perspective, that is 5 and a half miles high, 21 Empire State Buildings stacked upon one another and an elevation slightly below passenger jet air traffic.

Everest is stunningly beautiful from base camp at 17,000. It's the next 12,000 feet of climbing to the summit that is cruelly hazardous that will either kill you, maim you for life or grant you a stay of execution. It is a frozen, icy, mercurial, windy, treacherous and painful environment. Above 28,000 feet, the climber enters the "death zone." Oxygen is 2/3 thinner than at sea level. Hypoxia takes over the body. Your brain malfunctions and brain cells die. And one misstep on an ice edge or an abrupt weather change will quickly imprint you as another expired figure on the mountain landscape forever...frozen in time.

Such is the story of George Mallory in his attempt to be the first man to ascend Mount Everest in May of 1926. Mallory along with his companion Sandy Irvine died that May on their attempt of Everest. 73 years later, Mallory's preserved and frozen corpse was found by fellow mountaineers below the summit in 1999. Did he summit? That is debatable. Some say yes while others say no. 27 years later, Edmund Hillary of New Zealand and his Sherpa guide, Tenzing Norgay, ascended the summit in May of 1953 as the first men on "top of the world." They returned to earth with Kodak pictures as proof of their success. Mallory's camera was never recovered.

When the month of May rolls around, a fairly benign time to climb Everest before the summer monsoon season begins, I always think of those intrepid some would say foolhardy folks who attempt to replicate Hillary and Norgay's achievement and avoid Mallory's fate on Everest. At this very moment, there are scores of teams at base camp awaiting their window of opportunity to summit. Vicariously, I follow their fascinating blog dispatches of their expeditions on-line. Each year about 150 mountaineers, who pay $50,000 each for the priviledge, ascend Everest. Of those, 5 will die on average. In 1996, Everest claimed 15 climbers in the deadliest season on record. Most of those who die, die early ladder crossing the bottomless ice canyons of the Khumba Ice Falls.

I, like the British media asking of Mallory in 1926, too ask why in 2011? Why do this? Is this desire and act of personal adventure the height of selfishness? What about those you left behind? Isn't the risk too great versus the reward? See, since I ask those questions, I will never be moved to summit Everest. I don't have "IT". But when I have the chance, I do want to see Everest from base camp and marvel at its might and then maybe I'll understand somewhat Mallory's pithy riposte of why, "because it's there."