"Why don't you shove that whistle up your butt?"

As many of you know, I can get rather involved in a sporting event. With that being said, the title sounds like something I would say to an official when a bad call was made. But it wasn't. In fact, it was made by the complete opposite of me. It was said by a man in his mid to late 70s on Sunday afternoon as the Appalachian State Lady Mountaineers beat Memphis to win the 1st ever WIB National Championship.

Dad came up the mountain on Sunday and we attended the game. It started off ugly and he and I were in full voice from the start. Not sitting in the student section, I had to try to keep my cheers PG-13, as to no offend anyone. I was loud, the refs were lousy, and around 2 minutes into the game, the elderly gentleman I mentioned before turned to me and requested that I refrain from voicing my opinion, that he was trying to enjoy the game.

When I have paid my price of admission to an event and I am not acting out of line for the event, I feel that I can do just about whatever I wish to do. This includes to, but is not limited to taunting, being loud, booing, cheering among other things. I never cuss or use any culturally insensitive or degrading remarks towards anyone but the officials. So when I have someone turn to me and ask me to calm my actions, I become offended and tend to not do as was asked but increase the amount of "shit" I talk.

As is form, the further we become down, the louder I become. At the worst point of the game, we were down by almost 20, the fouls were extremely lopsided and the game was ugly. The Lady Apps made a major run to end the 1st half and cut the lead to 3, having a chance to tie at the end of the half.

After the intermission, the officials kept up their bad calls and I kept up my jeers. With about 10 minutes to go in the game, the very same man stood up and in one of the quietest parts of the game let out the crown jewels of calls from the stands "Why don't you shove that whistle up your BUTT?" As soon as he said it, he got that sheepish look that everyone knows so well. I looked at Dad, he looked back and we started laughing. Apparently, all it took was that being said by someone other than young people. The officials began calling the game much better and when the 2 teams were allowed to play, the better team won.

Now, I am not saying that just because I am an ASU student. Memphis played a wonderful game, they had great talent and were well coached. But our girls were just better.

But what I will remember in 10 years isn't the win. Oh no, it will be those 9 words, out of the mouth of someone who was asking me to be quiet, as so that he could enjoy the game.

Ah do I love live sports.

It's spring time, I want to ride my Bike!

Well, since it is "officially" spring, I want to ride my bike. I was able to get out and do about 20 miles on Friday afternoon with Kent. The ride went well, no major points where I ask myself why do I put myself through this. I felt like this was going to be a good wake-up call for my cycling. So I decided to set aside my Monday and Wednesday afternoons to ride.

Well, that all went down the crapper yesterday, as we saw (yet another) snow. It didn't stick much except on the grass and vehicles around Boone, but it was cold and wet. It keeps me asking when is spring really going to hit? The weather is suppose to be very good the rest of the week, and as a friend told me, "ride your bike, it helps." So I am planning to ride Tomorrow and maybe Friday (depending on work and what not).

We shall see how much riding my bike helps on my journey of self discovery.

Early life Crisis?

Well, I know that I am too young to have a "Mid-Life Crisis", but That is about what I am having. Over the last two years, a lot of things that I had thought were stable in my life have changed. 2 years ago, I was in the middle of my Freshman year of college. I was attending Chowan University (Murfreesboro NC) and playing football. At this point, I had no clue that in the coming weeks my entire coaching staff would be flipped upside down, and we would have one of the worst head coach and staff in the world come in and destroy the since of team that we had built.

After the coaching change, the new staff did its best to run off anyone of any talent who had played under the previous staff. Since I started as a freshman on the OL, I was one of the ones who was on the outs. I knew that I wouldn't play much (if any) that season, and I knew after a week that I would not be returning to Chowan after that semester.

The hardest part of all of this was the amount of work that I put into training going into that camp. I was working out 4-5 days a week, working 40 hours a week and getting myself into the best shape of my life (to that point). I was able to bench 350+, I could squat well over 700 lbs and I could leg press 1500 lbs. I was running a sub 4.6 second 40 yard dash. I had worked myself into prime form, under the guidance of a former PRO football player.

Football was how I saw myself. Whenever someone asked me about myself, the first thing I would say was that "I am a football player". I knew that I was more than that, but Football was ME. The first fall after I stopped playing was last fall. It was my first semester at Appalachian State University (one of 2 former NCAA Division 1-AA schools that invited me to be a preferred walk on when I was in high school) and Appalachian was 1 season removed from winning its 3rd straight National Championship. I threw around the idea of walking on, making the team and proving the staff at Chowan wrong. But I didn't.

So much of my life has revolved around team or organized sports. From the time I was 4, I was playing soccer and baseball. From there I advanced to playing baseball and football. Finally in high school, I played Football and threw the shot put. My Mom tells the story of the first day I came home from football practice in the 7th grade. It was August the 6th, (2 days prior to my Bday), and I walked in the house, sweaty, smelly and tired. But when she asked me how practice was, I looked at her and said "Mom, I have found what I was meant to do."

Now, I know just about every child that plays a sport dreams about going pro. It doesn't matter if it's baseball, basketball, football, soccer, any sport a child plays, they always dream about playing in front of thousands if not millions of fans. Out of ever child with that dream, only a few hundred make it to play in their respective sport. As a child though, no one ever tells you that you can't do it, or to change your focus. They build the dreams up to the point that when it doesn't happen (which happens more often than it does happen), a young adult is completely lost.

I still love sports, I love to watch, to play to talk about sports. I even was extended the chance to play football for a local Semi-Pro team out of Statesville. This could have been one of the greatest things to have happened to me. But I am not going to play. I would love to, but I know that I need to still further remove myself from that game which I love to this day more than anything outside of my family.

I have been told that I needed to find out who I AM now. A very wise woman gave me that advice and I have been trying to listen to it. I have spent time thinking about who I really am, what makes me who I am. What I value and what I could care less about. I am trying to surround myself with positive people, and people who have common interests with me. I have only been on my journey of self discovery for a short time, but I have made some MAJOR advancements. Even with that, I know that I have a long way to go before I really know who I am. It will probably take all of my life, but I am striving to have a better understanding of me.

What is the world coming to?

Tonight, we had a rare occasion, a family (whole family) dinner. We were sitting at a local Italian restaurant after ordering out Pizza and a family comes in and sits down at the table next to us. And before they were all seated, the mother had pulled out the portable DVD player and placed it in-front their little girl.

This was a first for me. I know that you are not "Cool" parents unless the Minivan you are driving has a better entertainment system than most homes, but I have never seen someone bring the entertainment system inside.

Seeing this made my Father ask "how did we ever do it, growing up without all the entertainment systems?" This is a real question. Growing up, I had a gameboy and I would play it in the car on trips, but as soon as it was dark, the gameboy was useless and I had to either sleep or learn how to carry on conversations with whoever else was in the vehicle. So, I learned how to hold my own in a conversation, I picked up on random knowledge (of which my parents are full of) or just sang along with all the songs on the radio.

Recently, I saw wall-e. If you haven't seen it, the movie centers around a robot who is living on earth after it has been so trashed by humanity. Well after trashing earth, the human population went into space, and lived life inside of a massive spaceship. With life on the ship, people had to do nothing and everyone became extremely overweight.

It seems to me that what this mother decided to do to control her child is going to lead to her child being a mindless drone, someone who cannot carry on a conversation or know how to express herself.

And that makes me sad.

Wondering one of life's many questions....

Well, as I told you when I started this blog, I am a random person. And being a random person, I think of random things at random times. My random thought for today has to do with clothing. Which piece of clothing you might ask? Well, my faithful readers, I am talking about sweatpants.You may wonder where this is about to go, I mean sweatpants are a very random thing to ponder. I know this, but it is the thought floating around in my head.

I want to know why a single pair of sweatpants, no matter how old, torn, tattered, faded or stained can be so treasured. I know, we as humans grow an attachment to things over time and that could be the reason. But what makes this one pair of pants different from all the others in the world?

The pair of sweatpants that holds a special place in my heart came from a track meet my junior year in High School. This was an invitational only meet, meaning that only 1 or 2 people in each event, from each school were invited. I was invited to throw Shot and Discus. The meet was held at Appalachian State University, in their (and now our) amazing facilities. The meet was held on a Saturday in early April (I think) and the weather in April is rather random. Well this day showed the major difference in a 35 minute trip up a mountain. When we left from the High school, it was warm, mid 60s, sunny, blue skies. A great day to be outside. Well, when we hit Boone, it was a different story. It was cold, wet and windy.

Not ready for the vast difference in weather, I was in my track suit and my uniform. This was fine for mid 60s and sun, but for low 40s and rain, it was vastly inadequate. Since there was a meet full of perspective buyers, the host decided it would be a great idea to sell some sweats, pants, shirts and some t-shirts to raise money. And it just so happened that the day called for warm clothing. Being extremely under-dressed, I decided that I wanted, no wait I needed another pair of pants on. With that decision made, I went and forked over the $8 or so and had myself a brand new pair of ASU Track and Field gray cotton sweat pants.

Those pants were a must have for me on meet day through out the rest of that season and through my senior season as well, all the way to NC A&T and the NCHSAA 2-AA State Championships.

I wore those pants a lot of places. I wore them to the weight room during my time at Chowan University playing football, I wore them in Mexico on a family vacation. I wear them now in Boone, as I am now an ASU student. They are thin, faded, stained, and ripped (I hate elastic in the cuffs of pants, so I cut it out). They have no pockets, they aren't stylish, but they are mine. They are comfortable and that is all that matters. I dont wear them to class (anymore, that ended when I moved off campus and needed to carry my wallet, keys, and phone because these pants have no pocket), but they still find their way to the library, when I know I will be there for a long night of studying or paper writing.

My attachments to these pants are strong, I have accomplished many things in them; from personal and school records in the Shot to squatting more that any person should squat. Some people may look at them and wonder why is that crazy guy wearing such shabby sweats, he so isn't cool. To them I am sad, because you dont know the comfort from putting something on that hasn't ever changed and hopefully will not change for many years to come. Then there are the people that see me wearing the afore mentioned sweats and think to themselves "I wonder if my (insert article of comfort clothing here) are clean/not too dirty/not to smelly to wear when I get home.

To you, I say the answer is no, your favorite article of clothing is not too dirty to wear. So head to the drawer, hamper, pile of clothes in the corner that you cant tell if they are clean or not, or your dryer and put them on! I know that mine are now clean (I washed them tonight and the dryer is done drying now).

Happy Trails my FRIENDS, and until next time, stay alive and above water.

4 years seems so short

4 years ago this morning, one of my best friends died. Adam was 16, and like most 16 year old teen age males, he thought he was invincible and that he knew it all. But unlike most 16 year old males, he didn't get to live long enough to learn it. Adam died of serious injuries suffered in a wreck while street racing.

We all did it to some extent. Every Friday and Saturday night all you had to do was ride the 25ish minutes down 321 to Hickory and hit highway 70. From there, all you needed to do was stop at a stoplight and rev at the car next to you, the race was on, from stoplight to stoplight. This happened every weekend, sometimes the cops were out in force, others they were nowhere to be found. This culture grew out of So-Cal, and hit worldwide fame with the release of The Fast and the Furious.

Street racing is very dangerous for everyone on the street. From the pedestrians to the other drivers, one fluke accident can take the life of someone’s best friend, son, brother.
Sometimes I think about how my world would be different if Adam hadn’t died. I know that I would still have a great friend, and we would have gotten in some sort of trouble, either on a spring break trip or over a summer road trip.

It is just so hard to think that 4 years ago Monday, was the last time I saw Adam alive, and in a state I would want to remember him. True he did not die until the morning after his accident, but he left this world before his car came to a stop. I am selfish and wish that my friend was still here, but I know that he is in a much better place now, and has been there for 4 years. I also know that he will be among the group that is waiting for me when my time comes (in about 65 or 70 years).

Rest in Peace Adam Lackey 3/9/1989-3/3/06, May we all learn to live life the way that you did, never holding back, always on the edge.