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.”