Football Fever

I'm not exactly sure when it happened, but it did happen. I fell in love. Oh football, how I love thee! Let me count the ways.

College football is my favorite.

High school football is also great, because it is as American as apple pie and Elvis. I went to the best high school ever and we were good at football and a lot of those guys were my friends. Go Big Reds!

As for the NFL, I have always liked it too, but I don't get as emotionally involved in those games. Maybe if I played Fantasy Football I would, but I don't. By the way, who knew that FF was going to be so ginormous? Wow.

Back to college football:

I love the sounds. Each sport has it's own sounds, and I am not afraid to say that there is no contest. Football sounds are the absolute best. Nobody can compete with the marching bands. Nice try with the organ, baseball, but not so much. Golf? Ha ha. No. As much as I love tennis, nope. Soccer? I love soccer, and there are places (England) that might compete a little bit ...with their throngs of men singing ancient songs of allegiance.... Someone somewhere (South Africa?) decided to introduce the worst idea ever to soccer: the vuvuzela. I rest my case. Anyway, the college marching bands...how great are they? They play their school's fight songs with such enthusiasm that we can't help but get up and clap along. At halftime they march into cool formations representing their schools. They do all of this as a unit. Rarely do we know a band member's individual name. But we do know our fight songs! I'll bet there a lot of folks who could even hum parts of the Notre Dame fight song or the Michigan fight song but wouldn't know what they were humming. My favorite marching band is affectionately called, 'The Pride of West Virginia.' I get a little misty eyed every time I watch them form the outline of West Virginia, while playing 'Simple Gifts' by Copland.

I love the weather. The beginning of football season signals the end of the worst of summer. It means that soon we'll be getting out our jeans and hoodies. And there are few places on earth that are prettier than the place where I fell in love with football. West Virginia in the autumn is breathtakingly beautiful.

I love the excitement. How many times do we watch a game where both teams have given it their all for sixty minutes, only for it to come down to the last two seconds? Have you ever been there? You can't hear yourself think! The noise is awesome!

I love the game itself. Are they going to pass or run it? Should the quarterback use the shot gun? Should he keep it and run? Are they going to blitz? How about a little slant pass over the middle? Who's stronger, our offensive line or their defensive line? Who's faster, our wide receivers or their defensive backs? Are they really going to kick the ball to that guy? He-could-go-all-the-way!!!

I even love the fact that football has cheerleaders and pom pom girls and the girls are still allowed to be pretty. Somehow the PC crowd has not yet imposed some rule outlawing pretty cheerleaders and pom pom girls, because by being pretty they make some people feel ugly.  Yep. They probably do.

And then there are the rules. There are so many rules! Not only is it good to know the rules, it's helpful to know the signals. I like the fact that I know that when the official starts patting the top of his head he means that there was an ineligible receiver downfield. And I guess we can all thank (former?) NCAA official Gordon Riese for giving college football the instant replay challenge. Although every Sooner fan might not recognize his name, most would surely recognize his handiwork from the 2006 game between Oklahoma and Oregon. Had the rules allowed for an instant replay review, Oklahoma would have won that game.

I think I may have transitioned into some things that I don't love....

While we're on the subject of rules, let's talk for just a moment about the, 'excessive celebration' rule. Really NCAA? Excessive celebration? These guys are taught to get as pumped up as they can to play the game of football. They have to out smart, out muscle, and out speed the other team over and over to try to get to that magical place called the end zone. It's hard. It's dangerous. People get hurt trying. And yet....when they finally cross that goal line and score a touchdown, they aren't allowed to celebrate???? Now that's just plain dumb. Taunting is different. Penalize taunting. Don't penalize celebrating. Are we not smart enough to know the difference? I think we are.

Speaking of the NCAA, am I the only one who thinks they are getting a little scary? I mean, they are busy little beavers....sanctions here, warnings there, threats everywhere. I'm beginning to think that they have created a rulebook that is absolutely impossible to obey so they have job security. It's not a matter of whether a school has messed up, it's more a matter of who they are going to go after today. Who is going to stop the madness?

And last but not least...in fact I'm quite sure I will write about this again....WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON WITH THE THE REALIGNMENT OF TEAMS AND CONFERENCES???

Feel free to opine.

Meanwhile there is no debate about what is on the TV at the Pearman house on Saturdays. This coming Saturday my two favorite teams are playing on different channels at the same time. Oklahoma is currently ranked #1 in the land. Boomer Sooner! And WVU is playing at home against LSU. College Game Day in Morgantown??? Sunnyside will accept the sacrifice of many old nasty couches. It's hard to believe that I lived nine years of my life in Morgantown. Those were good years, but that's another story.

Just sayin...

Hey Djokovic, you return like a girl!

And I mean that in the nicest way, really. I really do.

Through the decades of watching the top tennis professionals battle it out on the court I have observed a few things. One of them is that in the men's game, the serve is considered a huge weapon and the return not so much. Exception: Andre Agassi. There are probably more, but he was the best returner I remember seeing on the men's side.... until now.  It makes sense, really. Men are put together differently than women. They have strong shoulders and arms. Women, for the most part are not as strong in the upper body. In the women's game the return of serve  has been considered a huge weapon for many of the top players. Right off the bat I think of Chris Evert, Monica Seles, Steffi Graf, Venus Williams, Serena Williams, Maria Sharapova....you get it. In fact, the only top women's players that I really remember being known for their serves more than their returns were Billy Jean King and Martina Navritilova, both amazing serve and volley players. You may disagree with me, but even as huge as Venus and Serena serve, I think their returns are what  blow people off the court. When I picture these two hitting returns one word comes to mind more than anything else: fearless. They can be up match point or down match point, or anywhere in between and you can bet on one thing: they are going to hit all out on that return of serve. And this fearless, aggressive, 'go big or go home,' kind of returning has, forgive the expression, served them quite well.

On the men's side, however, the servers have had a huge advantage, and that is still true for the most part. Look at John Isner. He is 6'9". He not only hits the serve a million miles and hour, his height allows him to go for the angles too. Many of his  matches have a lot of tie breaks, because it is really hard to break his serve. Yep, he's the guy who, on the third day, and after playing a total of  11 hours and 5 minutes, and 183 games, finally beat Mahut at Wiimbledon last summer. Nobody could break the other guy's serve. It is a record that will likely never be broken. But I digress..... sort of. Here's what has gone through my mind for a long time: what if the huge servers, like John Isner and Andy Roddick, could return better? I mean, what would it take to turn them from one-sided players into players that can do it all, like the Williams sisters on the women's side?

Enter stage left: NOVAK DJOKOVIC.

If you missed the match between Djokovic and Nadal yesterday afternoon, you will get another chance, and I couldn't recommend it more. It was like watching modern day gladiators, and history unfolding before my eyes. There is so much to say, but I will try to stay focused on my point, which is this: Djokovic's return of serve was phenomenal. McEnroe, Carillo, and Enberg were drooling over it, and Nadal was baffled by it. Over and over again the ball came back hard and deep to the baseline, putting Rafa on his back foot and forcing him to hit short. More than once a voice in our living room would say, 'how does he keep doing that?' And then it hit me: Djokovic returns like a girl! His return of serves are not just hard, they aren't just deep, they are FEARLESS. Do you remember when he was down double match point against Federer in the semis? Roger hit a good serve out wide and what happened? BAM! Djokovic hit the return as hard as he possibly could for a clean winner....and ended up mounting a shocking comeback when it looked like Fed had it in the bag. Amazing.

So when I say that Novak Djokovic returns like a girl, I mean it! Way to go, Novak!

The Never Ending Story

Have you ever seen the movie, 'The Never Ending Story?' It is a wonderful children's story about a boy, his love of books, and how he becomes a part of the story he is reading. His adventure includes learning the dreadful secret that, 'a terrible nothing' was taking over the land. He saw it happening. There were others who saw it too, and wanted to stop it, but most of the characters didn't believe it. I haven't thought about that story for quite some time, but I can still picture some of the scenes. I loved to watch it when my boys were young, and as an adult I found myself wondering if the story was speaking to some very deep and current themes all around me. 

For months now I have been unable to sit down and write on this blog. It was like the terrible nothing that took over my writing! Whereas words usually flow easily from my mind to my keyboard, there was a block. My last post speaks to it a bit, I think. The truth is that I have had more than one pity party this year, and all I could think to write was something like, 'Hey 2011, you can kiss my butt.' 

Lovely, right? See why I have been so quiet? Sigh.....

Today, however, was September 11, 2011.

For many of us, I imagine, the parts of our lives that have been fuzzy came more into focus. Priorities became clearer. Life and the preciousness of it took center stage. We mourned the loss of too many innocent souls ten years ago. We grieved with the mothers and fathers, the husbands and wives, the children, and brothers and sisters of not only those who were murdered, but those who lost their lives trying to save others. We wiped tears from our eyes every time an American flag was displayed and songs of our nation were sung in unity of spirit. We were pensive, respectful. For one day, we were all allowed to think about the important rather than the urgent. It was okay to talk about things like the brevity of life, the certainty of death, and ponder what it means to each of us individually. It was a day of honor. Those in uniforms were visible everywhere....some as recipients of invitations, the rest, as part of their ongoing duty to protect others. Because today, just like in the story, whether we acknowledge it or not, there is still an ever present danger. Seventy-seven of our soldiers were injured this morning by the vile and pusillanimous act of a suicide bomber in the Wardak Province of Afghanistan. And we all know that there was a credible threat lurking within our own borders today too. As the clock ticks down on this historic day in our nation's history, though,  I will close  my eyes in thanksgiving. I thank God for hearing the prayers of so many. I thank Him that all of the ceremonies today were performed safely. I thank Him that none of those soldiers died from the attack this morning. I thank our military men and women for volunteering to be in harm's way in an effort to protect us and our freedoms. I thank all of the military families who sacrifice right along with their loved ones who are deployed.  I thank all of our uniformed men and women for choosing lives of service, and for the true American dream of freedom for all men and women everywhere. 

There is a surprise at the end of, 'The Never Ending Story'  that reminds me of a promise at the end of another book. I won't spoil it, but it is worth reading for yourself! 

Revelation 21:5