D's Notebook

Month: February 2012 (Page 2 of 2)

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February 14, 2012 /

Saturday was another sad night for us children of the 80s. Whitney Houston’s death wasn’t a huge surprise; we all saw the way she lived. The surprise was that this didn’t happen a decade ago. Yet it is still a little chilling when someone who was such a big part of your youth dies before we think they should.

This isn’t going to be a long ode to Whitney. As a fan of Top 40 music, I liked her a lot from her debut until 1988 or so. But I never owned one of her albums1 and as my tastes changed, she became less relevant to me. Even as I continued to listen to R&B into the mid-90s, I was a much bigger fan of younger singers like Mary J. Blige than Whitney.

That doesn’t minimize her passing.

What it made me think about, though, was how little Michael Jackson’s death affected me when he passed. The explanation for that is easy: he had become a freak, a joke, someone I didn’t necessarily want my children to know about. His antics and time and completely disconnected the man in the 21st century from his artistic peak. When he died, I remember kind of rolling my eyes and thinking, “Big surprise,” and never really taking the time to honor his career.

But since then, each time I hear one of his songs, I realize I owed him more than that. He was a brilliant entertainer. Even when it wasn’t necessarily cool to like him, I did. And while I was always a bigger Prince fan, I still loved every single second of Thriller and most of Bad. His music was an undeniable part of my childhood and one of the true voices of my generation. I love how my girls recognize his voice and ask me about him.2

Had he lived, Michael Jackson would not be making great, or even relevant music today. But it’s a shame that he, and Whitney for that matter, had so many demons that he was unable to manage.

So rest in peace Michael. I should have said that long ago.

And rest in peace Whitney.

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  1. My mom did, though. ↩
  2. You may recall how L. said she missed him awhile back. ↩

Sisterly Love

February 9, 2012 /

So S. and I are in the basement this afternoon, installing the final piece of our new entertainment system. We hear arguing upstairs. After it escalates, I head their direction to stop the nonsense. On my way up, I hear C., in tears, yelling at M..

M. responds, in her ‘I’m not really sorry’ voice, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

C. shrieks back at her, “THEN YOU NEED TO GET NEW EARS!”

To M.’s credit, she just laughed in her face.

Apparently M. touched the pita that C. was eating and it ended up on the floor. So the reaction was totally appropriate.

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I’m Not The Fan I Used To Be

February 8, 2012 /

Some posts are a form of therapy for me. This is one of those.

Below, I’ll explain why I didn’t watch the Kansas-Missouri game Saturday, which will also explain the why I’ve hardly watched any KU games this year.

Basically, I’ve become an old man and can’t handle the highs and lows of basketball the way I used to.

I want to point out this has nothing to do with this year’s team, and with the perception that this is a down year. Far from it, as with lower expectations comes a freedom to watch and not worry about what’s going to happen in March. But even that lessening of postseason expectations hasn’t made the games any more enjoyable.

Anyway, after much thought I’ve come down to these three reasons for why I’ve been avoiding KU games this year.

1 – The Enjoyment/Agony continuum.
2 – How the last three years of my life have changed how I watch games.
3 – The VCU hangover.

Now for the extended explanations:

1) The Enjoyment/Agony continuum. As I mentioned already, I simply don’t handle the stress of games the way I used to. Basketball season used to be a holy time for me. I reveled in the peaks and valleys of both individual games and the season as a whole. Whatever mechanism I had to deal with those ebbs and flows has worn away. Instead of enjoying each time the Jayhawks take the court, I think of how stressful and miserable those two hours are going to be. When the game starts, I’m constantly looking at the clock, wishing it would move faster so I could relax. After a couple years of this, I’ve started finding excuses not to watch rather than go through that each time they play.

I don’t know where this came from. It’s one thing to be nervous for a big game, like Saturday’s Missouri game or an NCAA tournament game. But it’s another to dread the games. And that’s how I generally feel on game days this year, whether KU is playing Texas or North Dakota.

2) Recent past. Because of the sleeping habits of our third-born1, there have been a lot of important sporting events in the past few years that I’ve monitored on my phone while lying in her bed. Other times, I’ve lied down with her, thinking I’d spend 30 minutes or so with her and then catch up on the DVR. Three hours later I wake up, still in her bed, with texts/emails from people who watched live stacked up. I’ve missed a lot of big games, exciting games, maddening games. But through that process, I’ve also learned how to survive only following via updates on Yahoo or Twitter or some other lower-stress method.

3) Finally, the VCU hangover.

KU has had some tough tournament losses over the years, but the VCU one has stayed with me like no other. My rule for how bitter a post-season loss is has always come down to whether that loss cost KU a shot at the national championship. Bucknell and Bradley did not. Northern Iowa may have, but they were still two games from getting to Indy if they won that game.

But VCU? Absolutely. KU would have played an undermanned Butler in the National Semifinal. Unlike Billy Donovan, who stopped going inside when Florida had a ten-point lead on Butler in the Elite 8, I’m reasonably confident The Morrii would have touched the ball on every play and KU would have cruised past the Bulldogs. Sure, Kemba Walker might have torched the KU guards, and the bitter loss would have come in the national title game. But losing to VCU not only kept KU from adding another Final Four, but also took away a golden shot at a second title in four years.

Each time I shot hoops in the driveway this summer, I would think of that game. Each time I thought ahead to the fall and practice beginning and games starting in November, I recalled that game. The numbness and disappointment haven’t gone away. In fact, I’m mad just writing about it.

(Deep breaths.)

So, for all those reasons, and probably a few more, I don’t look forward to games the way I used to. I don’t enjoy the games themselves as I used to. No more happy, nervous excitement as I count down the hours until tip. That has been replaced with a desire to skip ahead and just see the final score. As I’ve learned to follow games more casually, it’s easier to just not watch and relieve that pressure.

So Saturday, with KU going to Columbia for the final time for the foreseeable future, against a very good Missouri team, with so much on the line, I decided I wanted nothing to do with it. I put the three-year-old to bed. We watched Mad Men. I played a video game. I checked the score here-and-there. And while I was disappointed with how the game ended, I know had I watched I would have been awake all night reliving plays, cursing the officials, and letting the loss stew inside of me. Instead I went to bed, did my usual 10-minute wind down, and slept normally.

Listen, I know a lot of this is dumb. I’ve had a pretty charmed life as a KU fan. A lot of fans have “suffered” far worse than I ever have. But the fact is, the fun stuff isn’t as fun anymore, and the bad stuff feels way worse than it used to. It’s not the team or the sport; it’s me.

So I don’t know what this season is. An experiment, a year of stepping back and decompressing a little? Or is it the start of a whole new era for my fandom. Will I be a more casual fan, going forward, than I’ve been since 1981 or so? One who still follows the team but doesn’t obsess over each moment. In other words, kind of a normal person instead of one that is constantly consumed by what a group of 18–22 year olds do three dozen times a year.

I guess we’ll find out.

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  1. Or lack of sleeping habits, I should probably say ↩

Super

February 6, 2012 /

Indianapolis’ week in the national spotlight is over, and it ends with the city looking very good. That’s the beauty of low expectations: you assume there will be snow and ice and sub-freezing temperatures and when you get sun and temps in the 50s all week, it seems like the best week ever. Downtown was flooded with friendly locals. The out-of-towners were pleased that pretty much everything worth doing was a short walk from wherever they were at the moment. Instead of a bunch of columns complaining about the Super Bowl being in a cold, northern city instead of New Orleans or Miami, there were columns about how surprisingly entertaining Indy was and, amazingly, how this just might not be a one-time thing.

We’ll see about that last part, but Indy did a very nice job as host.

The game wasn’t a great one, but thanks to the exciting finish, it will be remembered. And the adopted local favorites won, knocking off Indy’s least favorite foe, so the locals were happy.

This won’t be a running diary, but it is a bunch of stuff I scribbled down during the game, or put in my memory banks during the week.

The girls were very excited about the Super Bowl. M. and C. were both fascinated by the idea of Peyton Manning’s little brother being the quarterback for the Giants. C. even made a construction paper Eli in class on Friday1. I shared the story of the Manning family with them, which awed them even more. Their dad played? They have another brother who got hurt and had to stop playing? Is that what happened to Peyton? During warmups Sunday, the big sisters would announce each time they saw Eli. It was the first time they’ve been excited about sports, so I enjoyed it.

Their excitement level was so high that, just before kick off, they ran upstairs and watched the Puppy Bowl instead of the real game. Maybe next year they can graduate to being real football fans.

When I commented on the great weather this week, M. said it was probably because of Catholic Schools Week. While I’m sure her teachers would be thrilled by that, I think she missed my point.

As I was watching the game, I wondered if there has ever been a less imposing good team than the Patriots. Sure, Brady is an all-time great. Gronkowski, when healthy, can be a game changer. But beyond those two, it’s a bunch of generic guys filling their roles perfectly. That’s always been the Patriots’ way, but it seems odd for a team to be that close to winning a title with only one superstar on the roster.

Hey, did you know Chris Snee is Tom Coughlin’s son-in-law?

How many people do you think NBC assigned to scan the stadium, looking for Peyton? Am I wrong, or did they never catch him? Four years ago, he was sitting in the back of the Manning family suite, and we only saw his head. Did he learn a lesson and stay further back? Was he moving around? Did he stay home, or at St. Elmo’s, or some other place he could stay semi-private? And did last week’s drama have anything to do with it? Plenty of fodder for the local sports writers to use in the coming weeks!

Shows I learned about Sunday: Swamp People, Moonshiners, and Pitbulls & Parolees. What the hell is wrong with this country?

Quality 80s music references in a couple commercials. Audi using Echo & The Bunnymen’s The Killing Moon was great, although how that fit their campaign I didn’t really get. And Budweiser using a modernized version of The Cult’s She Sells Sanctuary was a nice surprise.

Not to mention Madonna at halftime. The 80s are cool again. Her performance was solid, certainly visually stunning. But am I the only one who thought she wasn’t going all-out? And why was NBC’s video so poor? Prince’s performance in Miami in 2007 remains the best recent halftime performance.

Bruce Willis is GI Joe? I always thought Joe was a kick-ass guy in the prime of his physical abilities. Not a guy pushing 60.

Back to the commercials, most people seemed to agree it was kind of a crappy year. Is it the moribund economy that is keeping companies from taking chances? Can we somehow blame the death of Steve Jobs, a man who was always striving to make great commercials? All I know is I chuckled a few times, but I groaned more.

Perhaps no commercial made me groan more than Pepsi’s commercial that featured Elton John. How is he relevant in 2012? How many people under 30 were staring blankly at the screen, wondering who the hell he was?

There was much consternation about the Matthew Broderick Honda commercial last week. I did not see it until Sunday, and don’t get all the fuss. My reaction was more Hmmm than outrage.

There was a commercial for Nicorette at some point Sunday, I think before the game. M. asked me if the people in the ad were going to cigarette. That made me laugh out loud.

Who knows what would have happened, but the Patriots receivers who dropped balls in the fourth quarter are the goats of the game. I know it was tipped, but that ball to Deion Branch on the final drive could have been huge had he been able to haul it in. He had a lot of room to run.

The Catch 2 was obviously the highlight. David Tyree’s miracle catch four years ago was crazy, lucky, fluky. It was an Oh my God, the football gods are on our side! moment. Mario Manningham’s was pure skill. A perfect, gutsy throw and an even better catch. A fine addition to the pantheon of game-turning Super Bowl moments.

Other than Manningham’s catch, my favorite moment was Raymond Berry’s walk with the Lombardi Trophy. That might be my new favorite sports tradition. The reactions of the players are great, but I especially love how the random people in the line, like the equipment guys, react. And Berry appeared to be suitably sedated, where last year Roger Staubach seemed annoyed about halfway through the line.

I also enjoy when rich owners get all fired up when presented the trophy.

Why do 8000 cameramen and reporters need to rush the field the second the game ends. Players and coaches are trying to celebrate, but are out-numbered about 10-1. I’m not sure how people don’t get hurt in those crushes.

The Indianapolis Colts are now on the clock, and the countdown for spring training begins.

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  1. Her whole class made football players, and decorated them with either Giants or Patriots colors. Two years ago, M. did the same project, but she made a Peyton before the Colts’ loss to New Orleans. ↩

Prediction Time

February 3, 2012 /

Just when you thought the Peyton Manning drama was going to fade for a few days, yesterday’s news that he has been medically cleared to play again hits and all hell breaks loose.

That’s about a 2000 word post by itself, in which we could explore his motivations for having that news released during Super Bowl week, what it means for the Colts’ administration, and so on. But I’ll cut to the chase: it changes nothing for the Colts. If Peyton is playing in the NFL next year, and I still think that’s a very long shot, it won’t be in a Colts uniform.

Now, onto my fearless prediction for Sunday. I’ll own up to my preseason pick of a Pittsburgh-Philadelphia Super Bowl, with the Steelers winning. The Eagles were a disaster and the Steelers managed to lose to the Fighting Tebows in the Wild Card round. Nicely done on my part!

With the frenzy of activity here in Indy this week, the game itself has kind of gotten lost. Most years I try to ignore all the non-football stuff and pay attention to the story lines that will affect the game. Despite my efforts to ignore the craziness, I find myself not having spent much time studying the match ups.

Which could be a good thing. This is a tough, confusing call. How much does the Patriots’ mystique, established from 2001-2005, count in a game in 2012? How much does the 2007 Super Bowl mean this year? Does the roll that the Giants have been on for the last month carry over after a week off? Does playing in his big brother’s shadow help or hurt Eli? Can Brady and his offensive line keep the Giants’ pass rush at bay long enough to do their thing? How effective will Gronkowski be? As Kevin Costner said in <em>Bull Durham</em>, we’re dealing with a lot of shit here.

Because of all of that, this is one of the games where no result would surprise me. Either team could roll, it could be a classic back-and-forth game, or it could be a stinker that becomes exciting only because it comes down to a late possession. I just have no feel for it.

So, I’m just going to pull something out of my ass. Which, honestly, is what I usually do anyway.

Giants 30, Patriots 17

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Don Cornelius

February 2, 2012 /

One of the greatest of the many gifts my parents gave me was my appreciation for music. Part of my musical education was our weekly, family viewing of Soul Train. For a white kid growing up in a small, Kansas college town, the show opened my eyes to not only a different kind of music than was commonly played in Hays, KS1, but also to the broader world in general. There were people out there who looked different than me, talked different than me, dressed different than me. Soul Train helped my parents teach me that while there are all kinds of different people around the world, we’re all humans and worthy of respect.

Don Cornelius, the man behind Soul Train, took his own life yesterday. I know I wasn’t the only person of my generation, of all backgrounds, that was influenced by his creation. Thank you, Don.

But for the most part Mr. Cornelius didn’t preach about civil rights or the marvels of African-American art. He was manifesting them. With a smile he’d sign off each show wishing his audiences “love, peace and soul.”

  1. Not to mention an important balance to shows like Hee Haw and Lawrence Welk, which were weekend staples at my grandparents’ homes ↩

Bittersweet Days

February 1, 2012 /

By all accounts, events downtown are going swimmingly. The locals have shown up in force, setting attendance records for the official NFL events. The weather has been great. My fears, that the national press would be ripping the choice of Indy as a Super Bowl host, have so far not come to fruition. In fact, many national writers seem smitten with the city so far.

But, strangely, all that is secondary to the looming resolution of the thing on most local football fans’ minds. ESPN’s Elizabeth Merrill filed this excellent measure of the city’s mood.

When Indianapolis won the bid to host the Super Bowl four years ago, it never could have imagined this: That the big event would be played in the backdrop of a miserable 2-14 Colts season, with its seemingly unbreakable quarterback out with a neck injury and now presumably on his way out of town.
Is Peyton Manning done in Indianapolis? That — and not the merits of the two Super Bowl teams — was the big news last week.

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