Falling Leaves and Footballese

I was taking my daily walk, a week or so ago, when I felt a small rush of wind that was not summer like. This minor gust was a tinge cool and dry. It was then that a few dying leaves floated gently to the ground.

I immediately went into my shotgun stance, took the imaginary snap, and bolted toward right end on a zone read. I faked a pitch to my trailing tailback, tucked the pigskin, and dashed for 15 yards before I was knocked out of bounds.

First down!

It’s that time of year! For those of us who are rabid college football fans, excitement is abound. Every team is 0-0. No one has yet to lose a game. Anticipation is off the charts.

From “the loveliest village of the plains” to the bluegrass that surrounds Commonwealth Stadium in Lexington, Kentucky to the sprawling acreage of College Station, Texas. I can feel it, I can sense it, and I can almost smell the tantalizing scents of tailgate fare wafting on the breeze across the terrain of the sites where I will attend college football games this autumn.IMG_1037

“We’re on the cusp of a big year! Maybe we’ll make a New Year’s Day bowl. Can we win it all?”

But alas, the reality is those hopes, those 0-0’s will transform into 6 & 6’s, 5 & 7’s and, gulp, 4 & 8’s, for a great number of teams, by the conclusion of Thanksgiving weekend. There will not be many, if any, 12 & 0’s this fall.

Speculation. That is ALL we have right now.

Prediction. That is theme of the day.

Consternation. That is the mood of the pessimist and many a realist.

Exaltation. That is final word for all too few when the dust settles in January of 2016.

And that is a shame.

Everyone wants to know what lucky teams will make the College Football Playoff. What four teams will make it to Dallas and Miami? And the biggest question of all: What TWO teams will make the triumphant march to Glendale ?

It will be from that great Arizona desert that the players, alumni and fans of only ONE institution will hoist index fingers high above their heads and proclaim, “We’re number one!”

What happened to teams two through four who did, indeed, make the second installment of the College Football Playoff?

Many will leave the arenas of those great host cities with their heads hung low and their middle fingers raised high, or at least in their hearts and minds.

Again, that is a shame.

For all too often it is just about who is number one.

I have found myself in both of the above mentioned scenarios.

I reveled in the euphoria of victory on January 10, 2011 in Glendale, AZ.
DSC02793

I wallowed in the dejection of defeat on January 6, 2014 in Pasadena, CA.

But you know what? With a bit of time and perspective I was able to put both of those experiences in their proper place. The result in Glendale was grand and glorious. The experience in Pasadena, and the greater LA area, was blissful.

My dear wife, Melodye, and I enjoyed both of these experiences immensely. Sure! We wanted ever so badly to win BOTH of those ball games, but we did not. But what we did, in each case, was revel in the moment.

Now please bear with me as I, ever the sentimentalist and nostalgist, savor and share a few small slices of those grand times…

High five-ing security, as they encouraged us to “bring it back home”, at Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport when we boarded our plane to Phoenix.

Singing, in my mind, Arlo Guthrie’s ‘Coming Into Los Angeles’ as we descended into LAX.

Dining on sugar-cured duck breast at The Roaring Fork restaurant in Scottsdale. Being questioned by our server, with a laugh, if that is what we Auburn fans would be having, seeing as how our opponent was Oregon. 😉

Securing our room in Redondo Beach, CA and discovering, much to our delight, that it was number 116. Our street number, in Acworth, GA, is 116. We took this as a good sign. It typically is just that.

Chatting with the staff at Los Olivos restaurant and laughing at their descriptions of Cam Newton and Nick Fairley, who had dined there just a couple of nights prior.

And driving from our beach motel, picking up a close friend in north LA, and following her directions to the the hallowed grounds of the Rose Bowl. I could hear Keith Jackson doing his intro to “the grandaddy of them all.” I was awestruck at the beauty of the San Gabriel mountains. And as we strolled those grounds, talking and gawking and exchanging “War Eagles”, our ‘little buddy'(a nickname I gave her many years ago) remarked, “You guys are family!”IMG_1292

We are. We are indeed.

It is this family, in times of victory or defeat, that helps make every college game day experience special.

From the pen of David Housel, an Auburn man…

“What Is Auburn?

Far be it from me to try to answer that question. There are as many definitions of Auburn as there are Auburn men and women.

It would be safe to say, however, that Auburn is much more than a football game. It is much more than winning and losing.

It is a spirit. It is an attitude. It is a way of looking at life and at one another. It is, almost, a way of living. Unless you have experienced it, you will never know what it is; you will never understand it. Once you have experienced it, you will never be the same. A part of you will, forevermore, be an Auburn man or an Auburn woman.”

As we kick off OUR season here at Campus Pressbox, I want to wish each and every one of you, and your respective teams, good luck. I hope that your seasons are filled with magical moments that will last a lifetime.

Now let’s all go make some memories (and win a few football games as well)!

The Times They Are a Changin’

“Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or
you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a changin’”

These words from Robert Zimmerman (Bobby Dylan to you and me) certainly ring true today, as they did, exactly fifty years ago, when this record was released. And that, most definitely, applies to the college football landscape.

From the AP and UPI poll systems, to the BCS, to the College Football Playoff, things have evolved dramatically in NCAA football. And THAT is an understatement.

From “three yards and a cloud of dust” to the HUNH (Hurry Up No Huddle), our father’s football is now almost unrecognizable. But don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that is a bad thing. Remember, at one time there was no forward pass. Can you imagine the furor when that change came into play?

Four years prior to Dylan’s release of “The Time’s They Are A Changin’”, I began my immersion into sports. EVERY sport. I could not get enough of sports back in 1961 and for many, many years there after.

I have now lost a great deal of my passion for professional athletics, although the Mantle and Maris home run chase of 1961 remains somewhat fresh in my mind. But I have not lost one iota of enthusiasm for college football. If anything, the love of that sector of sports, has grown in leaps and bounds. And it is quite humbling for me to find myself both writing and podcasting about that great game today. That was always a dream for me.

All of this sparked my thinking about what has become the FBS and how its current state might appear to those coaches of yesteryear. It also piqued my interest in how those coaches’ tenures compare to those of today.

I took the numbers of six legendary figures and matched them against all of the coaches who followed them at their respective institutions. I ranked them in order of the original coaches winning percentage.

1. Paul “Bear” Bryant – University of Alabama – 1958-1982
232-46-9 .824
9 coaches since – 273-122-1 .690

2. Johnny Vaught – University of Mississippi (Ole Miss) – 1947-1970 and 1973
190-61-12 .745
10 coaches since – 256-243-4 .512

3. Vince Dooley – University of Georgia – 1964-1988 – 201-77-10 .715
3 coaches since – 222-101-0 .687

4. Frank Broyles – University of Arkansas – 1958-1976 – 144-58-5 .708
10 coaches since – 276-178-3 .607

5. Charles “Cholly Mac”- McClendon – Louisiana State University – 1962-1979
137-59-7 .692
9 coaches since 276-144-6 .654

6. Ralph “Shug” Jordan – Auburn University – 1951-1975 – 176-83-6 .6754
7 coaches since 315-150-6 .6751

Four of the “legendary” head men coached at their one school for 25 years. One piloted his school for 19 years and one roamed the sidelines for 18 years at his institution of higher learning.

The one big thing that jumped out at me is that NONE of these great universities has had a winning percentage, as high as the “legendary” coach, with all of the coaches that followed him… COMBINED! ZERO. NADA.

Now boys and girls, that includes some very good coaches at each and every one of these schools. Nick Saban coached at both LSU and Alabama. Pat Dye coached at Auburn. Lou Holtz coached at Arkansas. David Cutcliffe coached at Ole Miss and Mark Richt is currently the head man at Georgia.

How about this? You have 6 of the greatest coaches of all-time who coached a total of 137 years between them. On the other hand, you have 48 coaches who coached a total of 202 years. NOW hold on! That gives the 6 coaches an average tenure of 22.8 years apiece while the remaining 48 guys averaged 4.2 years each!!!

As the former voice of Ole Miss football in the 60’s, Stan Torgenson, was known to exclaim… Hoo Hoooooo MERCY!!!

Obviously, some of these latter coaches held their positions for extremely short periods of time. Bill “Brother” Oliver was the interim coach at Auburn, in 1998, for 5 games. John L. Smith had the same position at Arkansas for 12 games and Mike Price of Alabama… well you know the story there.

So, sports fans, where does this leave us? One one hand, you can talk about “the good ole days”, simpler times, loyalty, and the like.

Conversely, one can speak of the demand to “turn it around quickly”, the huge number of demands on a coach’s time, social media, and all that goes with being a CEO of the mega-corporaate structure that is FBS football in the 21st century.

But, regardless of all this, there is one undeniable thread that weaves its way throughout the history of college football… WINNING. “Just win, baby” as, now deceased, Oakland Raiders owner, Al Davis, was oft-quoted.

Winning does “soothe the savage beast” that is today’s college football fan, but just for a bit. That fan wants to win today, tomorrow and forever. That fan also wants to win big and with style. And that winning includes having the best facilities possible.

So, what would I say to today’s young and eager, prospective college football coaches, if I had them as an audience? To those coaches whose tenure at a school might, possibly, fall into the 4.2 years average that was mentioned above?

My answer might go something like this…

“Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or
you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a changin’”

Snakebit: Remembering Kenny Stabler

It was Thanksgiving weekend of 1965. I was sitting low in the north end zone of Legion Field in Birmingham. The University of Alabama was drilling my beloved Auburn Tigers to the tune of 30-3.

The rout was getting on into the 4th quarter when Bear Bryant decided to pull starting quarterback, Steve Sloan, and allow his backup to play.

Sloan’s understudy was a skinny kid from LA (Lower Alabama). His name was Kenny Stabler, but his nickname was Snake.

Kenneth Michael Stabler was born on Christmas day, 1945, in Foley, AL. During his three years as QB at Foley High, he led his teams to a 29-1 record.

We are familiar with Snake’s formidable football skills, but he was a great all around athlete. He averaged 29 points a game in basketball and was an excellent southpaw pitcher in baseball, receiving offers from the Houston Astros and the New York Yankees.

Stabler, of course, signed a football scholarship to play for legendary coach Paul “Bear” Bryant at the University of Alabama. He did not play on the varsity his initial year on the Capstone, 1964, as freshmen were not eligible to play at that time.

In 1965 he played sparingly, completing 3 passes in 11 attempts, with 1 Touchdown and no interceptions.

Snake became the starting signal caller for the Crimson Tide in 1966 and held that position for the next two seasons.

Alabama went 11-0, behind Stabler, in his first season as the number one QB. The 1966 season, despite it’s unblemished record and number three ranking, remains, in some ways, a painful one for Bama fans as they finished behind Notre Dame and Michigan State in the AP and UPI polls. The Irish and Spartans played to a 10-10 tie on November 19th.

The poll results, during those years, were issued immediately after the regular season. This worked to Alabama’s favor after the 1964 season when they went 10-0 but lost to Texas in the Orange Bowl. They dominated Nebraska, 34-7, in the Sugar Bowl, following the ’66 campaign, which solidified their place atop the college football world in the minds of many. But it was not to be.

December 2, 1972 is a day that will live in the minds the Auburn faithful as one of, if not THE MOST, important wins in Tiger football history. That game has come to be known, simply, as “Punt Bama Punt.”

I don’t have to refresh anyone’s mind on what happened that day in Iron Bowl history.

December 2, 1967 belongs at the opposite end of the spectrum for those who proudly wear the burnt orange and navy blue. This game is now referred to as the “Run in the Mud” by crimson and white faithful.

I spent the bulk of the evening of December 1, 1967 at my brother Jerry’s in-law’s house in Canton Bend, AL, which is about five miles from where I grew up in Camden, which is the county seat of Wilcox County.

My brother was married to Nellie Autrey, and Nellie was one of my closest friends, at that time.

Nellie and I were listening to WLS “Music” Radio that night from the kitchen of the Autrey’s home. The only song I distinctly remember, that came emanating from the AM airwaves, was Kenny Rogers and the First Edition’s “Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)”. GREAT SONG!!!

I like this incarnation of Rogers more than his later solo work, but that is another story for another time.

The next morning my father and I climbed into our Dodge Cornet and headed for Birmingham and storied Legion Field. My record at the hallowed venue was a dismal 1-3 at this juncture of my life. The win was over Georgia Tech in 1962 and the losses were consecutive year defeats to Bama, 1964-66.

But I was feeling pretty good about Auburn’s chances on that rainy, blustery morning of December 2. The Tigers were having a very good season, at 6-2, before being beaten by the Georgia Bulldogs, 17-0, in their previous game.

Alabama came into the contest standing at 6-2-1. So, the records were strikingly similar and the stage was set for a classic Iron Bowl. It did not disappoint.

When daddy and I arrived at the “Old Grey Lady on Graymont”, the winds had picked up considerably as had the rain. We parked behind a Gulf Station and began our trek to Legion Field. Our umbrella, that we shared, was turned inside/out by the nasty elements. Tornado warnings had been issued. That did not deter us or tens of thousands of other football fanatics from witnessing this regular season finale.

This was, and remains, THE game of each and every season in the great state of Alabama.

We made or way to the west stands, where our seats were located, to a row which was not far from the top of our section. Our direct line of vision was somewhere around the goal line. Auburn was clad in blue jerseys and white pants with white helmets. Alabama wore all white with crimson helmets.

By game time the rain was coming down in sheets and the wind was whipping furiously.

Auburn took the opening kickoff. Freddie Hyatt burst through the first line of defense and was within a hair of taking it all the way before he was stopped. Auburn drove deep into Alabama territory and tuned the ball over on downs inside the ten yard line. The Tigers lived in the Tide’s red zone those first two quarters but they came away with no points. They had disdained field goals for an opportunity to go up by, at least, seven points. It was not to be.

Auburn 0, Alabama 0, at the half.

The concourses at Legion Field were packed during halftime. It was no small wonder as the weather was utterly miserable. Daddy and I ran into Mr. Nettles Ivey and, my dear friend, Tommy Ratcliffe at the break. Their seats, with Mr. Ivey’s father, were on the fifty yard-line. They invited us to sit with them. The stands were not full as a great number of people decided, probably wisely, to remain in the shelter of the stands. There was plenty of room.

But the view, here, was terrible. We could barely see as our seats, behind the Auburn sideline, were now on a very low row.

Auburn mounted a 60 yard drive, to the Alabama 21, in the third quarter. Coach Ralph “Shug” Jordan” finally opted for a field goal. Somehow John “Rat” Riley connected on the 38-yard attempt. The driving rain, coupled with the players cleats grinding up the turf, had made conditions almost unplayable.

The bulk of the field was not unlike a pig pen. The game was now being played entirely in the mud.

Auburn took their tenuous, 3-0, lead into the fourth quarter. The outlook was promising. How on earth could anyone score again in this slop? My hopes of witnessing, in-person, Auburn defeat Alabama, were rising by the minute.

As the game moved deep into the final stanza, the Tigers set up to punt near the fifty yard-line. The snap was fumbled and the Crimson Tide recovered at their own 48. They lost a yard on first down.

Quarterback Kenny Stabler took the second down snap and broke toward right end. It appeared to be an option. He kept the ball and neared the corner. The crowd rose to its feet. I could not see. What was going on?

Then there came a thunderous burst from the opposite “visitors” stands. That roar became deafening as the stomping in their upper deck, helped to create a deafening roar. I jumped up and down in a futile attempt to see what was taking place. I looked up at my father and queried, “What happened, daddy? What happened?” “He scored,” was the reply.

My heart sank to my toes. I was numb. The “Snake” had slithered to a 53-yard touchdown and, shortly, this play would be entered into football folklore as one of the most dramatic plays in Iron Bowl history.

As most people know by now, Kenneth Michael Stabler departed this world on July 8.

“Snake”, along with a legion of others, this Auburn fan salutes you. May you rest in peace.

A Tribute To My Father

My father, daddy to us, was born into a poor family of dirt farmers, in Chilton County, AL, back in 1916. He was the baby of nine children. Being such, he was spoiled by his older sisters, especially Aunt Lorene, who was closest to him in age. She even went off with him to Jacksonville State, in 1937, to “take care” of him.

Daddy played football during his brief time at Jax State. He was a center and back then, much like in the shotgun formation today, the center had to deep snap in the single wing formation. He prided himself on doing it well.

He grew up knowing none of the luxuries his sons enjoy today. He had to get up before dawn, start a fire, milk the cows and, often, fetch corn from the large crib in the yard near the smokehouse and water pump.

And he plowed, and plowed and plowed, the small parcel of land they made a hard living on, in the Isabella community near Maplesville.

Yes, the family DID, indeed, live five miles from the school and the kids had to get there any way they could. They would walk, or if they were lucky, grab a ride on the back of a wagon which was headed that way.

After his one year in Jacksonville, he heard about a co-op program, whereby he could go to school at Auburn, where he would like to study agriculture. He would go to school for a semester and then work the following semester. Under this program he could graduate college and have it paid for, in full, by the time he graduated.

He spoke numerous times of, literally, plowing his way through Auburn. Much of this plowing was done along S. College St. where the KA house and other fraternities stood for many, many years. This was across the street from the buildings where he attended classes.
These classroom buildings were Samford Hall, Comer Hall and Langdon Hall.

Coincidentally, Auburn Stadium, which is now Jordan-Hare Stadium, was built during his sophomore year on the Plains, in 1939.

Daddy met mama while they were both students at Auburn. They were married in 1941, shortly after he graduated. Mama insisted they be married on a Sunday, March 15, so they could attend Auburn First Baptist Church on their wedding day.

He served, stateside, during WW2 in communications. My brother, Jerry LeCroy, was born on August 14, 1945. Daddy was stationed in Miami, at the time, and that day happened to be the day Japan surrendered.

My uncle, Wilfred Weatherly, sent him a telegram stating, “The Japs surrender and Braxton, Jr. is born!” Oddly enough, I was the one later named Braxton, Jr.

My parents moved to Camden, AL in 1948. Daddy was employed by the Farmer’s Home Administration at the time and remained with the FHA until his retirement in the early 70’s.

Daddy was a proud alumnus of of API. The name was not officially changed to Auburn until 1960. He told many tales of the football games he attended which only served to really whet his youngest son’s voracious appetite for all things Auburn. My love for Auburn was already strong before he took me to my first game in 1961. My life was, then, changed forever. Auburn defeated Clemson, 24-14, on homecoming that bright Saturday. And hardly a passing Saturday, in autumns to come, passed without me begging daddy to take me to Auburn.
God bless him, he did this quite a few times over the next several years.

On April 2, 1982, daddy passed away. He was far to young to go at 66 years of age. He died of an extremely rare blood infection called “microbacterium fortuitum” which he, evidently, contracted during open heart surgery to replace an aortic valve in September of 1980. He also had an aneurism repaired and a quadruple bypass during that surgery.

He was never the same after that.

We now have a brick, in his honor, placed in the ring just inside the gate in the south end zone, where the Auburn enters, at the completion of the Tiger Walk.

There are countless times I’ve wanted to talk with him about football after a particularly big win involving our Tigers. I’ve even prayed to him and the “huge cloud of witnesses” that must surround Jordan-Hare during a beautiful fall afternoon. And with all due respect to my Alabama friends, I could picture him beaming brightly after the “Kick Six” in November of 2013.

Daddy, it’s a beautiful summer Saturday afternoon here in north Georgia. Two of your great-grandchildren, Max and Lorelei are here with us. I so wish they could share this time with you. You could regale them both with tales of the 1949 Alabama game, a huge 14-13 upset in the rain at Legion Field, or the last game you attended in 1980. That was the only game trip you shared with your grandson, Luke. And I remember your story, that night, of sitting near some twins who were family of one of the Dixie Darlings from Southern Miss. How you thought you were “seeing double”.

I will raise a glass to you tonight, Daddy. It’ll be Makers Mark and not your favorite, Old Forester. But I will smile, hoist the glass, and through my tears give you a resounding “WAR EAGLE”.

The College Quickie: The Eyes Of Us Are Not On Texas

Here’s something that happens to me, all too often, when I pull up the guide as I surf for some sporting event on ESPN. Ok, let’s see here, ESPN… soccer, no. ESPNU… I’ve already seen the Manning thing a couple of times. How about ESPN2? Sports Center, hmmmm, nah. Ok ok! College Football! YES! And then my eyes will drift to the left and I note the network . It’s LSN, the Longhorn Sports Network, and I, typically, curse under my breath and flip through the guide as quickly as I can, in search of something else. Anything else!

It’s like when I search radio stations and I hear a snippet from a song that I haven’t heard before but is sounds like a possibility. And then I hear words something to this effect, ” I love you, I want you in my heart, I need you… Jesus.” No no no!!! Keep tuning! Keep tuning! Quickly! Get far away from here.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love Jesus, but I cannot allow my ears to be infiltrated by the innocuous, pop lite ripoff sounds of Contemporary Christian radio. It leaves a bad aftertaste my mouth and I immediately want to find some Deep Purple, Black Sabbath or, God rest his soul, George Jones.

But if I’m deeply immersed in one of the “Possum’s” ballads, please do not hand me a pint of cheap whiskey and a gun. That could turn ugly. “He stopped loving her today, they put a wreath upon his door, and soon they’ll carry him away, he stopped loving heeeeeerrrrrrr… todayay, heyheeeeeyyyyy, heeeeeeyyyyyyyy.”

Ok, the LHN. EEEEEEEWWWWWW is America’s response to said network. What if they created a television network and no one watched? They did, and they don’t.

People are NOT watching the Longhorn Network by the millions.

I just took a look over there before sitting down to compose this piece. You know what was on? Softball vs. UTSA. After that? Yet another showing of softball vs. UTSA (that’s the University Texas at San Antonio for you neophytes). After that? The 1994 Texas vs. Oklahoma “Red River Classic”.

I mean, I’ll watch a replay the 1994 Iron Bowl, maybe, because I bleed the burnt orange and navy blue of Auburn University, and I cross myself and mutter “War Eagle” every morning when I awaken.

Come to think of it, I will NOT watch a replay of the 1994 Iron Bowl because Alabama won that game, 21-14, as the Tigers came up an inch or two short on fourth down in Tide territory, on a controversial call by the zebras.

Pat Dye once said, “If you need a yard, on third or fourth down, when you’re playing Alabama, you’d better get three.” Amen!

But I digress. Where was I? Oh! The 1994 Texas-Oklahoma game. Really? Need I say more?

The Longhorn Network is a miserable failure. It is, “the worst television programming in ESPN history…”

That quote is from a piece entitled, “The Longhorn Network Is All Hat, No Cattle.”

Mash below and be prepared. It was written by Clay Travis for his college football blog, “Outkick the Coverage”. All I can say is, wow! Just WOW!!!

Here’s something that happens to me, all too often, when I pull up the guide as I surf for some sporting event on ESPN. Ok, let’s see here, ESPN… soccer, no. ESPNU… I’ve already seen the Manning thing a couple of times. How about ESPN2? Sports Center, hmmmm, nah. Ok ok! College Football! YES! And then my eyes will drift to the left and I note the network . It’s LSN, the Longhorn Sports Network, and I, typically, curse under my breath and flip through the guide as quickly as I can, in search of something else. Anything else!

It’s like when I search radio stations and I hear a snippet from a song that I haven’t heard before but is sounds like a possibility. And then I hear words something to this effect, ” I love you, I want you in my heart, I need you… Jesus.” No no no!!! Keep tuning! Keep tuning! Quickly! Get far away from here.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love Jesus, but I cannot allow my ears to be infiltrated by the innocuous, pop lite ripoff sounds of Contemporary Christian radio. It leaves a bad aftertaste my mouth and I immediately want to find some Deep Purple, Black Sabbath or, God rest his soul, George Jones.

But if I’m deeply immersed in one of the “Possum’s” ballads, please do not hand me a pint of cheap whiskey and a gun. That could turn ugly. “He stopped loving her today, they put a wreath upon his door, and soon they’ll carry him away, he stopped loving heeeeeerrrrrrr… todayay, heyheeeeeyyyyy, heeeeeeyyyyyyyy.”

Ok, the LHN. EEEEEEEWWWWWW is America’s response to said network. What if they created a television network and no one watched? They did, and they don’t.

People are NOT watching the Longhorn Network by the millions.

I just took a look over there before sitting down to compose this piece. You know what was on? Softball vs. UTSA. After that? Yet another showing of softball vs. UTSA (that’s the University Texas at San Antonio for you neophytes). After that? The 1994 Texas vs. Oklahoma “Red River Classic”.

I mean, I’ll watch a replay the 1994 Iron Bowl, maybe, because I bleed the burnt orange and navy blue of Auburn University, and I cross myself and mutter “War Eagle” every morning when I awaken.

Come to think of it, I will NOT watch a replay of the 1994 Iron Bowl because Alabama won that game, 21-14, as the Tigers came up an inch or two short on fourth down in Tide territory, on a controversial call by the zebras.

Pat Dye once said, “If you need a yard, on third or fourth down, when you’re playing Alabama, you’d better get three.” Amen!

But I digress. Where was I? Oh! The 1994 Texas-Oklahoma game. Really? Need I say more?

The Longhorn Network is a miserable failure. It is, “the worst television programming in ESPN history…”

That quote is from a piece entitled, “The Longhorn Network Is All Hat, No Cattle.”

Mash below and be prepared. It was written by Clay Travis for his college football blog, “Outkick the Coverage”. All I can say is, wow! Just WOW!!!

I say all of this to set up the article below. Companion pieces if you will.

http://www.foxsports.com/college-football/outkick-the-coverage/the-longhorn-network-is-all-hat-no-cattle-051115

Bird On The Wire

“Like the bird on the wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir, I have tried in my way to be free.”

This is the first line from the Leonard Cohen penned tune, ‘Bird On The Wire.’

During another midday walk, today, I noticed two small birds sitting beside each other on a wire. I’m sure you’ve seen countless birds sitting on wires, throughout this great land of ours, on numerous occasions. But have you ever paused to consider why birds do this? Are they just enjoying the day? Are they resting? Are they weighing their next options?

Well here we are. I found a blog which explains this aviary behavior. The author is jlshernandez.

“Power lines are common and convenient rest stops for birds in cities and towns where there are very few trees. High-tension wires make great lookout perches for passerine birds or the common perching birds, like sparrows, starlings, crows, grackles, to name a few. The feet of perching birds or songbirds are adapted to grabbing onto branches and power lines. Not all birds have this special adaptation.

Birds are social animals and like to interact with each other as they roost on power lines. Being up high gives the birds a good vantage point to see the surroundings and be on the lookout for predators and food sources.

Birds can be seen at dusk or sunrise perched on overhead power lines. Every time a bird lands on the wire, the entire row of birds on the same wire would move over for the newcomer. Birds are instinctively such considerate and accommodating little creatures.”

“… considerate and accommodating little creatures.”

And they, “…like to interact with each other as they roost on power lines.”

I find all of this very interesting and sweet.

You can imagine how the conversation, between birds, might be going…

Bird one: ” Well hello Sally Sparrow! How’s that sore wing coming along?”

Bird two: “Very well and thanks for asking mate! What brings you here today?”

Bird one: “Oh, just resting for a flight to Florida and watching humans.”

Bird two: “Crazy bunch, huh?”

Bird one: “Very much so! They race about, here and there, in such a big hurry. They curse and crash into one another, all the while thinking what they’re up to is so damn important. Sad lot really.”

Bird one: “Yes they are that. And they are very busy, busy destroying this beautiful space our creator has, so lovingly, provided for us.”

Bird two: “And another truly sad thing is that they are free like us, yet they allow themselves to be enslaved to time, things and the pursuit of money.”

Bird one: “And they worry, worry, worry. Get worked into a doggone frenzy about nothing, really.”

Bird two: “Tell me about it! Makes you wonder if they’ve ever read Matthew 6:26-27.”

Bird one: “Oh they read it! I see them in their homes and churches reading the cover off of their Bibles and banging each other over the head with it.”

Bird two: “Yeah, they love to preach and pose and preen, but practice it? Believe it? Not so much.”

Bird one: “Strange lot, no?

Bird two: “Strange indeed!”

Bird one: “You free to grab a worm?”

Bird two: “Yes, I’m free, free indeed!”

—————————————–

I’m Free (The Who)

“I’m free-I’m free,
And freedom tastes of reality,
I’m free-I’m free, An’ I’m waiting for you to follow me.

If I told you what it takes
To reach the highest high,
You’d laugh and say ‘nothing’s that simple
But you’ve been told many times before
Messiahs pointed to the door
And no one had the guts to leave the temple!

I’m free-I’m free,
And freedom tastes of reality,
I’m free-I’m free,
An’ I’m waiting for you to follow me.”

—————————————–

“Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are? Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?” Matthew 6:26-27 NLT

Consider the Lizard (Bird 6:28)

This title was ‘adapted’ from Matthew 6:28.

“What is a lizard?
Lizards are part of a group of animals known as reptiles. They are most closely related to snakes. In fact, some lizards, called sheltopusiks, look like snakes because they have no legs! Many lizards today resemble the ancient reptiles of the dinosaur era. Their ancestors appeared on Earth over 200 million years ago.

In general, lizards have a small head, short neck, and long body and tail. Unlike snakes, most lizards have moveable eyelids. There are currently over 4,675 lizard species, including iguanas, chameleons, geckos, Gila monsters, monitors, and skinks.” Taken from the San Diego Zoo site.

See more at: http://animals.sandiegozoo.org/animals/lizard#sthash.uyqKlMK1.dpuf

The lizard I am most familiar with is the chameleon. This is the lizard I grew up with in southwest Alabama. Chameleons are fascinating creatures. The primary reason for this is that they change colors depending on where they are stationed. It appears to me that they largely come in bright green and a dull brownish hue, but I am somewhat color blind in distinguishing these tints, so don’t take it form me.

I took my daily walk at midday and just returned a few minutes ago. As I had just turned from one street down a nearby cul-de-sac, I spotted this chameleon, his skin darkened from hurrying along the pavement, dart into some thick grass along the right-of-way.

The first thing that popped into my mind were the words, consider the lizard. That’s what prompted me to write this blog. So here I sit.

Doors lead singer, Jim Morrison, was known as ‘The Lizard King’.

“Jim Morrison wrote a poem called “The Celebration of the Lizard” that first apeared on the sleve of The Doors’ album “Waiting For The Sun.” The poem contained the line: “I am the Lizard King, I can do anything.” Fans thought Morrison was refering to himself instead of another persona Morrison created as the fictional author. The nickname stuck, and, later, the band added music and the poem was performed several times live.” This info was taken from the ‘Fun Trivia’ site.

Now back to the chameleon. “The Carolina anole (Anolis carolinensis) is an arboreal lizard found primarily in the southeastern United States and some Caribbean islands. Other common names include the green anole, American anole and red-throated anole. It is also sometimes referred to as the American chameleon due to its ability to change color from several brown hues to bright green (though it is not a chameleon).”
Wikipedia

How about that! This blog is both fun and educational!

We used to catch these lizards and ask them to “show us your money bag!” The reptile would soon produce a red, almost dime-shaped sac from under it’s neck. I was told this was an instinctual defense-like mechanism which appeared when the lizard felt threatened.

So those rascals are actually ‘red-throated anoles.’ Sounds like a bird to me.

Our dogs, particularly Layla (the female of our Bichon Frise trio), love to hunt and chase lizards. Red-throated anoles love hanging around our back door, deck and air-conditioning unit. In the warm months Layla cannot wait to go outside in search of the ‘chameleons’.

The dogs also love to chase each other and play ‘king of the mountain’ on our bed. This is called the ‘Bichon Blitz’ or ‘Bichon Buzz’. They will also race around the the kitchen, down the short hallway and around the den, barking and biting and slipping all over the faux hardwood floors. This is very entertaining.

Layla’s middle name is Lucinda. Layla is for obvious reasons if you are a music fan and know the popular Derek and the Dominos tune. Lucinda is for Lucinda Williams, who I think is one of the greatest singer-songwriters out there today, male or female. Her album ‘Car Wheels On A Gravel Road’ is an absolutely brilliant piece of work.

Layla’s brother/litter-mate is Lesh Zappa. Phil Lesh is the bassist of the Grateful Dead. Need I explain Zappa? I didn’t think so. Lesh is a very sweet little dog who loves other animals and children. But Lesh is also cursed with bladder stones an a pinched nerve so he often keeps his distance from people. His nickname is Ed.

Then there is Hunter. Hunter’s name comes from my favorite author, Hunter S. Thompson and Robert Hunter, the primary lyricist of many Grateful Dead songs. Hunter’s middle name is Garcia. Need I explain Garcia? I didn’t think so. Hunter (10) is two years younger than Lesh and Layla and is, basically, a spoiled rotten scoundrel. He whines and barks for dinner. He whines and barks for his bone/chicken rawhide stick, which is dessert. And he whines if you stop petting him. Hunter usually wins the ‘king of the mountain’ game.

Melodye with an ‘e’, Miss LeCroy, Paul, or whichever moniker you choose, LOVES HER BABIES. If you don’t like her babies, then she, probably, is not going to like you. She bathes them, trims their faces, doctors their ears and brushes their teeth. She really dotes on those little, white, furry rascals.

These puppies are not our first Bichons. We had our first one from 1990-2003. He name was Misie. Misie was given to us by Harold and Emma when we lived in Sumner County, TN. I can’t remember Harold and Emma’s last name, but they were an older couple who simply could not keep up with Misie’s energy. She had energy in spades.

Harold and Emma let Misie go potty on their deck which was covered in astroturf (I HATE astroturf AND the designated hitter but that is another story). They did not let her out into the yard without a leash.

The day I brought Misie home, as a surprise to the family, I thought she would be fine running around the huge yard which surrounded the double wide, wooden modular home we rented on Cecil Keesling’s cattle and tobacco farm.

WRONG! When I took Misie out for her first potty, she took off like a rocket all over the yard. I began to chase her. She thought it was a game. She soon darted into the adjoining pasture where we played chase for forty-five minutes. She would occasionally stop, put her head in her front paws, with her behind in the air, and wait until I got very near to her. She would then ‘buzz’ or ‘blitz’ for a short while and then… repeat… for 45 minutes.

Somehow, I finally caught Misie and brought her back to the farmhouse. She was covered in dirt, grass and cow poop. She then received her first bath, at 1025 Brinkley Branch Rd., from daddy.

Melodye thought this was one of the funniest things she had ever seen. I did not agree, at the time, but we laugh at the thought of it to this day.

Unfortunately, Misie became riddled with tumors and we had to put her down in May of 2003. This was a horrible day. I gave her her final ride to Dr. White’s office where we met Mel. I petted her the entire way and was able to share my love for her, just us two. It brings me to tears at the thought of it, even to this day.

Here is a poem I wrote for our sweet Misie:

Misie

Pure Energy, love, innocence
Haha Haha Hahahahaha… panting
Bouncing
Begging
Sweet and naughty (DO NOT EAT THAT CHOCOLATE FOOTBALL!!!)
Cheese?
Treat?
Go Outside?
From Harold and Emma’s to
Dr. White…
And LIGHT,
Loved all and all loved you.
I’d give anything to hear
Just ONE more…BEEP…
There will never be another you
Misie
Good-bye
We miss you.

None of us are going to live forever. Cherish those you love and tell them you love them. Also do this, “Unto the least of these.”

And… AND

Consider the lizard.

Yesterday

Cynthia Lennon passed away earlier today. Her son, Julian, broke the news on his website. Julian’s father is, of course, John Lennon. Cynthia was 75 years old. John would have been 74 years old were he still alive. His birthday is October 9th.

I remember February of 1964, when The Beatles hit the terra firm of the USA, like it was yesterday. It was incredible. Truly amazing. And watching them on the Ed Sullivan Show was one of the most exciting moments in my life, before or since. I was glued to that old black and white RCA, our first ‘telly’, and I could not contain myself when the Fab Four briskly made their way onto the stage of that venerable old theater, now the site of The Late Show with David Letterman.

Seventy-three MILLION people watched that show along with me and many of you.

“Close your eyes and I’ll kiss you, tomorrow I’ll miss you, remember I’ll always be true. And then while I’m away, I’ll write home every day, and send all my loving to you…”

Take it Paul! “All my loving, I will send to youoohoou…”

That gives me chill bumps to this day.

That was the first song they did on Ed Sullivan that Sunday night. The boys also did ‘Till There Was You’ and “She Loves You’. They returned, later in the show, to do ‘I Saw Her Standing There’… Ah one, two, three, FAW…”Well she was just seventeen and you know what I mean, and the way she looked was way beyond compare…”

Has there ever been a BETTER rock ‘n roll song?

The Liverpool lads completed their first ever appearance on American television with their wildly popular single, the ‘A’ side opposite ‘I Saw Her Standing There’, ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’.

I also recall going down to the Red & White, owned by Mr. William Collins at that time, and purchasing that ’45’ with my allowance money. I truly wish I still had that record. I do have their first album released in the USA, ‘Meet The Beatles’.

Tommy Ratcliffe, RIP, I miss you old friend, and I wore that first Beatles album out. We would put it on my record player, in the front bedroom of my house in Camden, AL, and sing our hearts out along with it. We both had Beatle wigs. Tommy would stand and play the broom, he was John, and I would sit on the edge of the bed and play air drums. I was Ringo. These two were our favorite Beatles.

Later I would go to Joe Tate, our band director at WCHS, and ask him if I could play the drums in the marching band. Joe told me he didn’t need any more drummers and he put me on the cornet. Oh well…

Tommy and I also had Beatle cards, Beatle rings, Beatle dolls, and any Beatle item or trinket we could get our hands on. We both had serious cases of Beatlemania.

The Beatles began to lose me about the time ‘Rubber Soul’ came out. They had begun to experiment with drugs and this influenced their music in big way. They lost me, though. I was around thirteen or fourteen at this time and they got WAY ahead of me. I was a late bloomer but I caught up, and then some.

(As an aside, Joe Cocker just came on Pandora, here at 116 Sundown Way, doing his brilliant cover of ‘With A Little Help From My Friends’.) 😉

‘Rubber Soul’, ‘Revolver’, ‘Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’, ‘Magical Mystery Tour’, ‘The White Album’, and ‘Abbey Road’ are about as good a run of albums as one will find in the entire history of recorded music. “Let It Be’ ain’t bad either.

From The Beatles biography at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, “The impact of The Beatles has often been noted but cannot be overstated. The “Fab Four” from Liverpool, England, startled the ears and energized the lives of virtually all who heard them. Their arrival triggered the musical revolution of the Sixties, introducing a modern sound and viewpoint that parted ways with the world of the previous decade… The Beatles music – with its simultaneous refinement (crisp harmonies, solid musicianship, canny pop instincts) and abandon (energetic singing and playing, much screaming and shaking of mop-topped locks) – ignited the latent energy of youth on both sides of the Atlantic. They helped confer self-identity upon a youthful, music-based culture that flexed its muscle in myriad ways – not just as music consumers but also as a force for political expression, social commentary and contemporary lifestyles…”

And Cynthia Lennon has now joined John, George, and other friends and family at that great gig in the sky. ($1 to Pink Floyd).

February 1964. Wow!!!

In the Grateful Dead song, ‘Uncle John’s Band’, there is a line that goes, “Oh oh but I want to know, where does the time go?”

Indeed.

“Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away.
Now it looks as though they’re here to stay.
Oh, I believe in yesterday.”

Winter Words / Vol.9 / Football, Baseball and Blessings

The time has changed. The weather has changed. It remains winter, as the vernal equinox has yet to visit us, but spring is within sniffing distance. The forecast for north Georgia is for warm temperatures but it is going to be WET, really wet, this week. But, like a friend said, as I stopped to chat on my walk around midday, we certainly have it better than our friends and neighbors in the northeast. It’s been brutal up there. May you thaw quickly folks!

Baseball’s Spring Training is in full swing and I caught a good bit of the Braves vs. the Nats today. The Braves won, 2-1. It’s not like that matters at this point. All the youngsters are getting a good long look and all will have an opportunity to prove their mettle.

I do hope the Braves’ pitching will remain as strong as it has been thus far. Nine arms combined for a no-hitter this past weekend. That was an odd game. It ended in a 2-2 tie as the game was called after ten innings. They had a shutout through eight today. Good going!

Yes, regular season baseball is just around the corner, but that is not the Big News.

The Big News is… the Auburn Tigers being spring practice TOMORROW. Gus will have a press conference at 11:30 AM CDT and then the burnt orange and navy blue will go about the business of beginning FOR REAL preparation for the 2015 season. YeeeeHaaaaaw!!!

According to early Vegas odds, the Tigers are 4-1 to win the SEC. The Georgia Bulldogs also stand at 4-1 and Ole Miss comes in at 4.2-1. Alabama is favored to repeat at 2-1. Fine.

All of this may be much ado about nothing, in the grand scheme, but it is great fodder for conversation when you live, eat and sleep college football as we do here in the Deep South. March Madness might be about to crank up, but football is what truly captures our hearts and souls 365/24/7.

Speaking of roundball, the SEC Tournament begins, in NashVegas, in a couple of days. The big question is… Can anyone challenge the Kentucky Wildcats? I have heard, and used, the term Mildcats when referring to the Bluegrass State’s flagship school on the gridiron. No one, in their right mind, would refer to their basketball team as such. They are a juggernaut! Their record stands at 31-0 and they are the prohibitive favorite to win it all. I hope they do.

Auburn has no chance to win the SEC Tourney or play in the Big Dance this year. That’s okay, for now, because the future is VERY bright for the Tigers. Coach Bruce Pearl is doing an outstanding job of coaching and recruiting, on The Plains, and I expect them to make a lot of noise soon.

It really is remarkable what Pearl has done so far with the program. Who would have EVER expected numerous sellouts in basketball at Auburn? How about the presence of scalpers at an EXHIBITION GAME?

Incredible!

And how about the promise of Easter?

It seems that resurrection is rearing its head in every aspect of my life. I hope and pray that it is for each and every one of you.

So War Eagle and Go Cats!!!

And…

May God our Father/Mother and the Lord Jesus Christ give you grace and peace.

Selah

Winter Words Vol. 8 / Walking and Sweating, Keith Jackson and Robert DeNiro

I sweated today! (3/4/15) Yes, deep into my walk, I broke out in a mild sweat which became a bit more profuse after I arrived back home. It is 73 degrees in Acworth, GA! Good news, huh? Tomorrow the temperature will be…sigh… in the high 30’s. March is one schizophrenic month!!! I can hear Neil Young singing in my head, “Don’t let it bring you down…”

It won’t.

Back to my walk.

As I was headed down the first cul de sac, I came upon a neighbor throwing the frisbee to his talented dog. This same dog brought me the frisbee one day late last year at that point in my walk. I’m not as talented as the dog or his master. I made two or three feeble tosses which were not even close for what Fido needed to make a spectacular catch. He eventually returned to Chris and Rebecca, his mom and dad, for some proper tosses.

Today Chris and I talked, very briefly, about the weather and then the conversation turned to, you guessed it, football. Chris is a Michigan fan and is excited about Jim Harbaugh coaching the, once mighty, Wolverines. We agreed that his hiring should have a positive impact on Michigan and the Big Ten as well.

He also thought the Muschamp hire was a great one for Auburn and I certainly agreed. We mused about how long Saban might be a Alabama. What does he have left to accomplish and so forth.

The conversation eventually took a turn toward Pasadena and the Rose Bowl. I spoke of what a beautiful setting it was and that I was swept away in it’s beauty and history, when I was there, and of Keith Jackson calling so many of those games… I can hear him now… “Welcome to Pasadena, California! You’re looking at the San Gabriel mountains, and it is in this beautiful location that the USC Trojans will take on the Ohio State Buckeyes in the grandaddy of them all, the Rose Bowl!”

They do not make them like Keith Jackson anymore. He is the last of a dying breed. I like Brent Musburger but he is a bit over-the-top, the Neil Diamond of announcers. “This one is for all the Tostitos!!!!!!”

The crews that call the games now, I’m thinking ESPN, Fowler, Palmer, Herbie, Rece Davis, et al, simply do not hold a candle to Keith Jackson. Man could he describe the action and recreate the drama that was taking place on the field. And his pronunciation of GEORRRRRRGIA Bull-DOGGIES and AAAAAAAAAAla-BAMA, and BOOOO JACK-son. Loved it!!!

The ESPN guys sometimes cackle like they’re having a hen party up there in the booth. PLEASE!!!

We miss you Keith!!!

Back to my walk, again.

When I reached the end of that first cul de sac, I heard what sounded like a very mild, high-pitched roar or buzz. It sounded a little bit like locusts, but it wasn’t. That reminded me of the locusts that come to the mountains of Western North Carolina. Or is it the periodic cicadas that return every seventeen years? I don’t know. I’ll have to look it up. You’ll never hear anything quite like it. It’s no mild rumble of roar. Something like what would be a horde of flying saucers. Incredible!

Speaking of locusts, I’ll have to do you my impression Robert DeNiro as Moses sometimes. I mean you can hear it in your imagination.

“Did you like the locusts?” Did you like the locusts?” Did you like the locusts?” “How about the frogs? Did you like the frogs?” You get the picture.

Back to my walk, part three.

And so, it was a great walk with lot of sunshine, a little bit of sweat and memories of Keith Jackson, the Rose Bowl, and locusts.

Yes, the wintry winds and cold will return tomorrow with some potential ice and snow in the mountains of extreme North Georgia. That’s the schizophrenic March we’ve all come to know and love. But, as I mentioned in Winter Words Vol. 6, Spring is a comin’! The Braves played and lost to the Mets, 8-2, in Orlando today. First exhibition game. The first game at Turner Field will be against the Mets as well.

Now THAT takes me back to Milo Hamilton and Ernie Johnson, the Professor and Skip Caray and Hammerin’ Hank. But I’ll spare you that today.

Today we walked… and we sweated.

“The moving finger writes; and having writ, moves on.”