Just Thinking About Tim Tebow

Ever since Steve Spurrier coached the Florida Gators, I've had an issue with the boys from Gainesville. Of course, this had more to do with the Sports Illustrated cover of December 4, 1972 than anything else. On that cover, Sports Illustrated claimed "Steve Spurrier Steers San Francisco." What a joke. Any Niner fan knew that John Brodie was the man by the Bay and any claim to the starting position by anyone else was spurious. Spurrier was a backup, and, worse, a punter. He played in 1972 and went 8-5-1 and the 38 year old Brodie regained the starting spot the following season. In other words, Spurrier was a washout.

It's always been my contention that Spurrier's failure contributed to his treatment of quarterbacks as a coach. Who else would develop such talents as Noah Brindise, Doug Johnson, Danny Wuerffel, and Tim Tebow. Oh, never heard of the first three? No shocker there. You would never have heard of Tebow if the media had a clue. Spurrier won a Heisman, just like Tebow, a sure foreshadowing of future anonymity if there ever was one. Here's a short list of Heisman winning quarterbacks that were a bust in the NFL in the last 12 years: Chris Weinke, Eric Crouch, Jason White. Matt Leinart, Troy Smith, and, finally, Tim Tebow.

Leave it to the Jets to  make me feel empathy for Tebow. I hated the kid, wondered what the Jets were thinking when they traded for him, and couldn't wait for him to fail. The media circus that surrounded his arrival in the league was ridiculous and the trade for him was stoopid, stoopid, stoopid. Sanchez was the man, in my eyes. I'm a Pac 12 fan and wanted Sanchez to validate the quality of the conference by succeeding in the Big Apple. And that meant failure for Tebow. Let's watch the Jets lose with Tebow. Let's watch Tebow fail in the NFL. Let's see that smug Christian explain His plan after he goes 10 for 40 with three picks and no TD's.

Well, the circus came to town, and for whatever reason, Sanchez failed. And Tebow rushed in to save the day. Oh, that's right, the Jets didn't play him. They traded for him, but never played him,. Of course, I think the Jets coaching contributed to the lack of offense, but something needed to be done. I couldn't wait to see Tebow rush in from the sideline, the crowd cheering. I couldn't wait to see Tebow hand off twice for runs up the middle for no yards, then throw an ill conceived out that got picked by a corner. But, it never happened. Tebow never got off the bench. What a rip off. The Jets ripped off the fans, and they ripped off Tebow.

So now Timmy Terrific exits New Jersey. A year from his life has been stolen by Jets management and he is left to pick up the pieces. He's been above the fray, a good team mate and a consummate professional. That's more than the Jets can say. Exit, stage right Tim Tebow.

Enter, stage left Geno Smith. He joins four other quarterbacks in the fold. The new messiah, the chosen one. Sanchez will soon be gone. Matt Simms? Next. What do these quarterbacks have in common?

A reason to rejoice. They have disembarked the flaming Jets. Ryan goes 6 and 10 this year and we start another rebuilding process. In the meantime, who is that other team in New Jersey? Oh yeah, those guys.

Maybe media attention isn't a good thing?

My nine year old daughter hijacked my blog for this post. It is to Dr. John B. King, Education Commissioner of the State of New York. I copied John Hildebrand at Newsday.

Dear Dr. King

      Hi my name is (redacted) and I am 9 years old. I just finished the ELA stat test. The test was really hard and confusing. I always work hard and feel smart all the time. I always get B and A's. But when I took the ELA stat test I felt dumb and stupid. I felt this way because I didn't know what they were talking about. Why are the questions so confusing?  Other kids in the school was crying because they didn't finish the test and it was so hard. I think you should space out the test. I think this because 3 days in a row of tests is tiring , frustrating , and hard. I am frustrated. I finish 3 test then next week we take 3 more tests in a row. I think it's unfair. thank you for your time reading my note and I hope you do something about it.  

Comment: This letter was my daughter's idea. As you can tell, I did not edit it. It is truly her voice. 

Burying Somebody

Truly a brutal day, just the start of a brutal three days. I went to work today and of course, my heart wasn't in it. This afternoon I got my beautiful, wonderful kids off the bus and we hung out and did homework together. At six, I loaded them in the car and drove them 25 miles to the home of friends and dropped them off, then drove five miles back to the funeral home to the wake of my wife's cousin. He was the only boy and had four little sisters. They were, of course, distraught, and the pain was palpable. A steady parade of family and well wishers lasted more than two hours. I didn't have the heart to tell them that burying their beloved brother tomorrow is going to be worse.

I shepherded my wife to the car and we drove back to our friends' house to collect our kids, who feigned sleep as my wife and I decompressed with a bevvy or three. Margy is one of my wife's closest friends and my wife's pain spilled out. Racked with sobs, she sat at their breakfast table and tried to make sense of a senseless act. I didn't have the heart to tell her that tomorrow is going to be worse.

Later today (Thursday), we will be celebrating a mass in Keith's honor, a service in a religion that may condemn him for taking his own life. After that, we will mournfully follow his body to a plot of earth where he will be buried, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. This is when shit really gets bad.

How do I know this? Just over eleven years ago I said goodbye to my brother. We had him cremated, held a memorial service for him at his place of employment, and took his ashes to California a month later. We held a party in his honor with friends and family and then, the next morning, spread his ashes on a beach along the Pacific Coast. Spreading his ashes was the goodbye, the burial. It was the worst day of my life.

That's what they will be facing today.

It's particularly poignant for me. While Keith wasn't my cousin, I did know him. I didn't know him well, but my kids played with his kids. He was a father, like me, he was a son, like me, he was a brother, like me. And his sisters, like me, will have to say goodbye to someone they loved.

Then, they go home. Without the possibility of ever seeing him again, alone with their thoughts. No more wakes, no more funerals, no more celebrations. Just the rest of their lives without their loved one. That's what happens after the funeral. It's over.

Except for those special occasions when you get to remember the departed. Like the anniversary of their death, or their birthday. And you all get together again and rip open the scabs and let the pain bleed out of you again. Or, you just rip open your own scabs and let the pain bleed out of you all alone and revel in the melancholy, wondering what if.

Later today, I will watch my wife's family go through this and I will remember doing the same thing for my brother. Later today I will be clenched in my own pain at watching them go through what I have gone through. Later today, I will have flashbacks to that walk on the beach, spreading my brother's ashes, and I will cry inside. I will cry inside because I know what they are going through. I will not cry because I know it is their pain, and not mine. But, I will know that pain, because I have felt it, because I feel it. Later today I will stand by my wife and tell her it will get better, even though I know that it won't. Later today I will help bury their beloved brother, son, and cousin.

And then, tomorrow, alone, I will celebrate my brother's 51st birthday without him.

My wife's cousin killed himself yesterday. He was from Long Island but had moved to North Carolina with his wife and kids. He became estranged from her and his kids had chosen sides. He was a long way from home and felt isolated. Having grown up on the West coast and living on the East coast, I had always been concerned about him. While I'm not estranged from my wife and kids, I know how dark it can get being in an alien community and feeling alone. I didn't know him well, but I recognized a kind and gentle spirit and I'm rocked by his decision.

I doubt an early exit is ever the right decision. It's such a flagrant dismissal of all those that love you. But, who can know the depths of depression that can lead you to such a rash and violent act. It has deprived his kids of a father, his sister of a brother, and his parents of a child. From the survivor's point of view, it's a selfish act. But, who can really understand the pain that leads to the early check out.

Of course, my life isn't wine and roses, but whose is? It just reminds that all of the crap that I am going through in my day to day life isn't really that bad. I lost my brother in 2001, and yes, I did look on top of the fridge - he wasn't there. But he is in my heart and I keep him there. Of course, my brother was 39 years old and I have a lot of memories to keep him alive. I wonder about his kids? Do they have enough to keep him alive?

What a waste.

Spike

Cablevision and Optimum

I think maybe they should rename these two companies. I like NoCableVision or LackofCablevision. Better yet, Minimum! Last night I was harassed for the second time in a year by door to door shills. My better half answered the door.

"Hi. We wanted to tell you about Optimum."
"We're very happy with Fios, thanks.

The dog is yapping, my kids are running around, we're trying to get my nine year old ready to go to dance and get both kids fed, but the asshole ignores the hint.

"I understand, but we just wanted to tell you about some offers we have."
"Honestly, I'm trying to get my daughter ready for dance right now."
"When is a better time to talk to you?"

In May of last year I had to kick another Cablevision puke off my doorstep. I below is an excerpt of an email I sent to that rep's supervisor.

"I wanted to let you know about the tenacity and commitment of one of your Residential Account Executives. I'm not a fan of Cablevision and harbor a sentiment bordering on hatred for the corporation. I recently switched to Fios from Cablevision due to a long litany of perceived transgressions. When Luke Motsay knocked on my door tonight, the first time, we ignored it. I was in the backyard, my wife was on the phone and my two elementary school children were doing homework, so we ignored it."

 

"Twenty minutes later, I was still in the backyard, my wife was in the shower and my children were studying. So when my five year old son came out and announced that there was a strange man at the door and he wasn't leaving, I wasn't thrilled. You can imagine how less thrilled I was when I found Luke Motsay from Cablevision standing on my stoop, interrupting my pleasant evening, my kids studying, and my wife's shower."

 

"I explained politely that I hate Cablevision and why: sneaky fees, escalating costs, long wait times on the phone when there is product failure, and the general mismanagement of the Dolan family. Luke was not to be deterred. He understood completely and persisted in explaining the benefits of changing providers at the end of our contract with Verizon."

 

"I expanded, politely, that when I was done with Verizon I would consider every other provider but Cablevision and that he would do us a service by never darkening my door again, either himself or any other representative from Cablevision/Optimum or any other Dolan owned company."

 

"Again, Luke persisted. At this point I noticed that his late model Honda Accord was parked across the street in front of my neighbor's house and it was parked in the middle of two spots, preventing my neighbor from parking one of their cars in front of their own home. I asked him if this was his usual practice, to take up two spots when it would be easy enough to move five feet forward and leave a spot for the homeowner."

 

"As you can imagine, this is where the sales pitch went south. Luke informed me that if I was going to talk to him like that then he was going to leave. Finally, he got the point. It was at that point I insulted his choice of dress and asked for his card. I reminded him that the customer is always right and he informed me that I wasn't a customer. Of course, I pointed out that his attitude was one of the reasons why I was no longer a customer, an attitude that seems pervasive in Cablevision."

I sent the email in the hopes of being put on a list - "Never call on this customer." So you can understand why I got up off the couch, went to the door, and politely informed the aforementioned losers that "Not if you were the last cable company on earth" and gently closed the door.

A few minutes later I went into my front yard to watch for my daughter's ride to dance class. The losers in question engaged me again. They were aggressive and confrontational, speaking loud and not listening.

I would encourage everyone to drop their accounts with this company. They are morally bankrupt and their employees are poorly trained. I doubt this rant will provide any impetus for the company to change, but hey, I tried.

Spike

Connecticut, Really?

Just trying to make sense of the shootings in Newtown and I am coming to the conclusion that we cannot. We cannot figure out how a person can kill innocent children. We cannot figure out why a mother of a developmentally disabled child would own assault weapons. We cannot figure out why that man would target eight year old children. We cannot figure out how the parents of the children will go on with their lives. We cannot know how we can make sense of this tragedy. We cannot figure out how Robbie Parker can possibly offer condolences to the parents of the shooter. He is a parent who lost a child, Emily. We cannot fathom his forgiveness, his compassion, or his empathy.

We want justice. We want to blame someone. We want to blame mom or dad for not recognizing their kid was wrong. We want to blame them for not knowing this kid was going to blow up a school, to go postal, to slaughter innocent children, teachers, and parents. How could they not have seen this ticking time bomb. How could they not have taken action?

I hugged my nine year old. I hugged my six year old. And, I am mad. I am beyond mad. I am pissed. And here comes Mr. Parker, to show me humanity, to show me humility, to show me empathy. He's not mad. His eight year old daughter is dead, eviscerated by the bullets of a madman, but he's not mad. Imagine the image, his 80 pound daughter ripped apart by bullets from a gun bought legally, intended as an assault weapon. Imagine the havoc wreaked by those bullets on that innocent child.

But, he's not mad. He forgives. He is a child of god. Reverend Rocky Veach took advantage, talking to Anderson Cooper. Forgiveness was his message. He understood. Clearly Robbie Parker had been drinking the same Cool Aid spooned out by Reverend Veach. I just don't get it. In Romans 12:19, God says, "vengeance is mine."

What vengeance is satisfactory to the parents and loved ones of the 28 or 29 dead in Newtown Connecticut? The only vengeance, I think, is the existence of hell. I hope it exists, and I hope that sorry piece of feces rots there.

Unfortunately, I don't believe in heaven or hell. So, all we can do is hope those kids passed quickly, and that rat bastard suffered. I'm sad that he didn't get to experience the American system of justice, where he would have been isolated and assaulted on a regular basis. I had great compassion for Dahmer, but ultimately justice was served. I'm just sad that Mr. Lanza won't experience similar justice.

So, I guess I'm a piece of crap. but I'm sad that asshole didn't get justice.

 I sent this email today. Oops!

And I deleted it today, oops!