I'd like to apologize for the lack of posts over the past few weeks. (Damn... has it really been almost three weeks!?!?)
There's been a lot going on in my life lately. I haven't as much time to dedicate to writing a blog entry as I would like. Some of the highlights of the recent weeks: starting up my new MMA-only blog (very exciting but still a work in progress), multiple trips to the beach (very relaxing), hanging out with old friends (reconnecting), my mom moving in with my sister (freedom), my other roommate moving out soon (more freedom), the start of the Fall semester (lots of prep work... remember I teach), chaos at work in Brooklyn (supervisor got fired, lots of instability).
I'd like to thank those of you who have commented on my previous posts. I read every comment (it's not as if there are THAT many) and I truly appreciate your feedback. One recent comment was thought provoking and something that I may post about in the near future. It was a comment to my HIMYM post: "I think a good follow up to this blog would be detailing what 'the one' would be for you. What are you hoping to find someday?"
This is a question that has come up quite a bit recently so it is something that should be fairly easy to write about. The issues with responding to this are the same issues I have with all my posts: How much do I divulge? How much am I willing to share? Is opening up too much a good thing or a bad thing? etc etc etc... And specifically for this Q: Is it even something I really know the answer to?
We'll see how things go. I like the RaUM posts to almost write themselves. Essentially, I try my best to let them flow out of me via my fingertips on the keys. There will be plenty to write about and I hope to have more time to get back to weekly posts (if not more frequently than that).
I'll leave you with one last thought. It relates to something that has been happening to me a lot over the past few months. I've been having more vivid recollection of my dreams, almost daily. I've also been experiencing a lot more deja vu moments. It's not simply the awareness that I've 'done this before' but with more sensory recall: emotions, situation, touches, smells, and the overall sensation of the moment. I read somewhere that before we are born our spirit (soul, divine essence, whatever you choose to call it) knows our life path and what we will experience in our lifetime before we are born. Deja vu moments are simply your mind recalling flashes of the life you're supposed to live (nothing 'simple' about it). This is not to say that we cannot deviate from our life path. It is a map, if you will, for the life we're designed to live. Whether it is to progress in the reincarnation process or to know our purpose in our one life on Earth, I am a firm believer that deja vu moments are like signs on a highway. If we see these signs regularly, then we know (I know) that we (I) am following my life path and fulfilling my purpose in this lifetime.
The fact that I've had so many of these deja vu moments in such a short span of time is no longer 'scary' or 'creepy'. Now they bring me joy. I know I'm living the life I'm supposed to live, for better or worse. I am fulfilling my life's purpose, for better or worse. It's not for me to say whether my life is good or bad. I still have the freedom to choose to strive for more or maintain the status quo. There is one thing I'm sure of. I can take solace in the knowledge that what I've been doing over the last year or so is what I was meant to do.
Even the tremendous amount of dream recall has been surprising. Thankfully, it hasn't been a reflection of negativity or doubt (a major theme in many of my dreams during the first half of this year). I don't buy into the oneiromantic logic of dreams forecasting the future but I do think it is a reflection of what a person is feeling at the time the dreams occur.
Maybe I'll blog about those dreams too. =)
We'll see where my mind will be over the next few weeks. Thanks to you all for staying on board and reading my blog after nearly a full year.
Until next time, faithful reader......
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Redundancy (or I've Had Enough of This Nonsense)
Welcome to your weekend dose of RaUM goodness. The focus of this entry is something that has been on my mind for some time and, as usual, it is a topic I wanted to share it with you. Any opinions and/or feedback would be appreciated. Maybe you have a better take on it than I do.
One thing that I truly hate about our fast-paced, instant-gratification society is the need to abbreviate everything. Usually I don't mind it and in certain forums I'd prefer it (online chats, tweets, etc). Admittedly, there is some intrinsic value to shortening phrases, words, etc. More importantly, however, is the overwhelming need for abbreviating certain things for the sake of conveying messages quickly to the ever-shortening attention spans of Americans.
I accept that we live in a world of soundbites. What truly bothers me is how people blindly use abbreviations in conjunction with a word that is included in the abbreviation. To illustrate my point, here are the three best examples:
1-BMI index (Body Mass Index index)
2-PIN number (Personal Identification Number number)
3-ATM machine (Automatic Teller Machine machine)
It is the epitome of redundancy and only shows how stupid most people are for not noticing. I'd be willing to be less harsh and say people are simply victims of clever catch phrases and tag-lines. Yet when I point out the fallacy of their use of the redundancy, they simply dismiss me as if I was pestering them - like a mosquito buzzing by their ear - or they roll their eyes and tell me to stop being so analytical.
I think accepting these 'little' (and increasingly common) mistakes in the modern English language is the first step in the de-evolution of American society (have you folks seen the movie Idiocracy?).
[pause]
Let me rethink that a bit... Maybe it's not THAT terrible but it does irk me quite a bit. It's not the fact that these poorly constructed abbreviations exists but, rather, how easily we accept them into our lexicon without thinking twice about what they mean.
I'll leave you with this thought: What else are we missing out on in our lives because we accept things at face value without taking a closer look?
Until next time, faithful reader......
One thing that I truly hate about our fast-paced, instant-gratification society is the need to abbreviate everything. Usually I don't mind it and in certain forums I'd prefer it (online chats, tweets, etc). Admittedly, there is some intrinsic value to shortening phrases, words, etc. More importantly, however, is the overwhelming need for abbreviating certain things for the sake of conveying messages quickly to the ever-shortening attention spans of Americans.
I accept that we live in a world of soundbites. What truly bothers me is how people blindly use abbreviations in conjunction with a word that is included in the abbreviation. To illustrate my point, here are the three best examples:
1-BMI index (Body Mass Index index)
2-PIN number (Personal Identification Number number)
3-ATM machine (Automatic Teller Machine machine)
It is the epitome of redundancy and only shows how stupid most people are for not noticing. I'd be willing to be less harsh and say people are simply victims of clever catch phrases and tag-lines. Yet when I point out the fallacy of their use of the redundancy, they simply dismiss me as if I was pestering them - like a mosquito buzzing by their ear - or they roll their eyes and tell me to stop being so analytical.
I think accepting these 'little' (and increasingly common) mistakes in the modern English language is the first step in the de-evolution of American society (have you folks seen the movie Idiocracy?).
[pause]
Let me rethink that a bit... Maybe it's not THAT terrible but it does irk me quite a bit. It's not the fact that these poorly constructed abbreviations exists but, rather, how easily we accept them into our lexicon without thinking twice about what they mean.
I'll leave you with this thought: What else are we missing out on in our lives because we accept things at face value without taking a closer look?
Until next time, faithful reader......
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Who Am I and What Have I Done With Alan?
Hi there,
I'm smiling on the inside. It's not just a smirk or a grin but a full on ear-to-ear, Cheshire cat smile. I still can't quite put my finger on it. It's as if I'm enveloped in an amorphous cloud of positivity and it's merely a harbinger of more great things yet to come for me. My life is moving in a positive direction and I feel more liberated from my former self. My attitude adjustment from the start of the year has been bearing fruit all year and things have only gotten better for me.
I suspect some of my friends on Facebook are sick of seeing the status updates with quotes and affirmations, etc. It's a reflection of who I am now... and I won't change it for anything. I love my life right now. Even though it is far from perfect, it's progressing in ways that I previously had not imagined. There are things that can still be tweaked, modified, improved upon, or just scrapped altogether about me and my life. All things considered, things are going fantastically and I cannot be happier with where I'm at right now. It took a long time for me to reach this point in my life. Being healthier in mind, body, and soul than I've ever been in my life is so liberating. And yet I know I still have not yet reached my goal. The journey has been a long and slow one until now. I feel like I've moved into the passing lane and am speeding ahead to my destination - not the "ultimate destination" (a.k.a. death) but one of self-fulfillment.
Part of the transformation includes having others notice the positive changes I have made. The compliments I've received over the past week or so have done wonders for my self-esteem and my ego. But it's also made me realize the importance of passing it forward to others and that is where I need to make my next change. I have to learn to offer the same compliments to others. I don't mean simple lip-service to make others feel good but sharing genuine feedback, appreciation, and love for others.
There are times that I feel there aren't enough hours in the day to do everything that I need or want to do but it's all good. There have been no wasted moments. There are still a few things I want to knock off the old to-do-list before the year is up and I'll be sure to share those moments with you all when the time comes. Until then I'll leave you with a few quotes that have moved me lately:
= "It's lack of faith that makes people afraid of meeting challenges, and I believed in myself." ~ Muhammad Ali
= “Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habits. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.” —Lao-Tze
= Dimidium facti qui coepit havet: sapere aude (He who has begun is half done: dare to know)
= Each day brings it's own miracles and disappointments. You just need the proper filters to see the good that's around you. =) (via @agsilver51 on twitter)
= If you are scared of failure, you will never succeed. (via @digitalspit on Twitter)
= Quotes are just quotes. When u apply it to ur life, then its wisdom. (via @iconic88 on Twitter)
Until next time, faithful reader......
I'm smiling on the inside. It's not just a smirk or a grin but a full on ear-to-ear, Cheshire cat smile. I still can't quite put my finger on it. It's as if I'm enveloped in an amorphous cloud of positivity and it's merely a harbinger of more great things yet to come for me. My life is moving in a positive direction and I feel more liberated from my former self. My attitude adjustment from the start of the year has been bearing fruit all year and things have only gotten better for me.
I suspect some of my friends on Facebook are sick of seeing the status updates with quotes and affirmations, etc. It's a reflection of who I am now... and I won't change it for anything. I love my life right now. Even though it is far from perfect, it's progressing in ways that I previously had not imagined. There are things that can still be tweaked, modified, improved upon, or just scrapped altogether about me and my life. All things considered, things are going fantastically and I cannot be happier with where I'm at right now. It took a long time for me to reach this point in my life. Being healthier in mind, body, and soul than I've ever been in my life is so liberating. And yet I know I still have not yet reached my goal. The journey has been a long and slow one until now. I feel like I've moved into the passing lane and am speeding ahead to my destination - not the "ultimate destination" (a.k.a. death) but one of self-fulfillment.
Part of the transformation includes having others notice the positive changes I have made. The compliments I've received over the past week or so have done wonders for my self-esteem and my ego. But it's also made me realize the importance of passing it forward to others and that is where I need to make my next change. I have to learn to offer the same compliments to others. I don't mean simple lip-service to make others feel good but sharing genuine feedback, appreciation, and love for others.
There are times that I feel there aren't enough hours in the day to do everything that I need or want to do but it's all good. There have been no wasted moments. There are still a few things I want to knock off the old to-do-list before the year is up and I'll be sure to share those moments with you all when the time comes. Until then I'll leave you with a few quotes that have moved me lately:
= "It's lack of faith that makes people afraid of meeting challenges, and I believed in myself." ~ Muhammad Ali
= “Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habits. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.” —Lao-Tze
= Dimidium facti qui coepit havet: sapere aude (He who has begun is half done: dare to know)
= Each day brings it's own miracles and disappointments. You just need the proper filters to see the good that's around you. =) (via @agsilver51 on twitter)
= If you are scared of failure, you will never succeed. (via @digitalspit on Twitter)
= Quotes are just quotes. When u apply it to ur life, then its wisdom. (via @iconic88 on Twitter)
Until next time, faithful reader......
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The Glory Days of My Childhood (Part 2)
For Part 1 of the story click here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The details of the second game of the tournament are lost to me. The only thing I remember is all the shit talking that took place prior to the game. All the talk centered around how it would be 8-4 vs 8-5 in the finals, an honors class final.
It turns out that 8-4 lost their semifinal game so there would only be one honors class in the finals, either 8-5 or 8-3. The only detail that I recall was the outcome of our semifinal game. My class won the game. I vaguely recall it being a close game. 8-5 had their chances but they threw too many deep balls and executed poorly when it mattered most.
Now my class, 8-3, was in the finals. We were the least likely of all the honors classes to make it. You could go so far as to call us the Cinderella story of this tournament. We even had guys from other honors classes asking if they can be ringers on our team. Clearly, we made it this far without them and I wasn't about to go into the finals with a new team full of egos. We were going to win or lose on our own!
It was the morning of the final game. It was also the last day of classes before the winter break. I woke up and it seemed like any other school morning: I was slow to get up. I kept asking my mom to come back in 5 minutes so I can squeeze in a little extra sleep. I finally decided to get up, not because of any sense of responsibility: I had to pee pretty badly. I swung my legs out of bed and tried to stand up. I had a tremendous shooting pain throughout both my feet and part of the way up my shin. I couldn't walk.
I would have asked for help from my mom but I didn't hear her nearby. We lived in a duplex apartment and I suspect she was upstairs, though I don't actually know where she was at the time. I figured the pain would pass the same way the pins-and-needles sensation goes away when your leg falls asleep. I dragged myself across the floor and down the hall to the bathroom commando-style, forearm over forearm. I slowly propped my body to an upright position first using the knob on the bathroom door, then the sink, and finally with the towel rack on the wall. I was doing some strange form of dips using the sink and towel rack to hold my body up while I pivoted to try and sit on the toilet to relieve myself. I was not only humiliated for having to go to such extremes to get to the bathroom but I was also really scared. When I finished, I called out for my mom and I remember feeling like it took her forever to come over to the bathroom. I didn't have the will to drag myself back to bed.
She came over and helped me back to my bedroom. It was clear I wouldn't make it to school that day. Normally, I wouldn't care about missing a day of school, especially when it meant an extended vacation, but this time it was different. I felt like I was letting my guys down. At the same time, I was concerned about what was afflicting me. My father, who woke up hours after my sister and I left for school, was surprised to see me in the house that morning. He tried soothing my feet by soaking them in a warm Epsom salt bath. It didn't help but at least he tried something (one of the few things I give him credit for in our life together).
My only course of action now was to go see the doctor. By the time I went to see the doctor, my feet felt better and I no longer had any pain. I was able to put my weight on my feet once again ans walk normally. Whether this was due to the bed rest or some other stroke of luck is unknown but we took no chances. My mother called a cab for us to go to the doctor's office.
I was embarrassed to be in the doctor's office explaining to him the pain I felt in the morning only to have him question my ability to walk into his office unassisted. It turns out he had a strong hunch as to what was wrong with me and insisted I see a cardiologist as soon as possible. He scheduled an appointment for me with one of his colleagues (and friend) a day or two later.
I was out of the doctor's office and home by 3 o'clock. I was feeling better and I was only a short walk away from school. If I left the house around 3PM, I knew I could make it in time. I seriously considered going to school to play in that final game. In the end, I decided against it. It was partly due the fear of the pain returning while I was on the schoolyard. I also didn't want to explain to my math teacher why I wasn't in school for class but was there for the game. To this day, Mr. Kralick is my all time favorite teacher and he was also the referee for the football games. He was an intimidating SOB and I honestly didn't want to deal with him after the morning I had. All I could do was hope that my guys did well.
After seeing the cardiologist, I was diagnosed with rheumatic fever (if you want more info, click here). My doctor told me that had I waited a few more days I could have had severe damage to my heart. Had I waited a few more days, I could have died from this. It's hard for me to put myself in that position again. As a 13 year old, it was almost impossible to imagine what dying truly meant. I knew enough to know it was serious but every time I think back on that diagnosis it chills me to the bone. I could have died! All my experiences since then would be unknown to me. The people whose paths I've crossed would have been altered forever, for better or worse.
Consider what you are doing at this very moment. This would never be happening since there would be no RaUM, no Alan, and I suspect neither one of us can imagine what our lives would be like had I not gone to the doctor, had I gone to play that last game, had things been different on that fateful December morning.
Fast forward to my return to school in January. It was a new year, I had been treated for the pain and was taking daily doses of penicillin. I'd be required to get a shot of penicillin every month of my life until I turned 18. It was preventive treatment to stop any recurrence of the disease. I don't recall ever catching a cold or being sick in any way shape or form from that moment until I became an adult. It was awesome!!
I had no idea what happened in the final game of the football tournament. I was eager to find out how it went. When I walked into homeroom at the start of the day, I was greeted by several of my classmates. They then immediately started peppering me with questions. Where was I that last day of class before the break? How could I abandon them? Why did I leave them on their own? What was so important that I missed the ONE GAME that mattered? I didn't quite understand why I was forced to answer all these questions until someone finally told me what happened in the game I missed. We got massacred. Destroyed. Humiliated. Outclassed. Run over. You're welcome to continue inserting relevant adjectives here.
They were venting their frustration at losing and blaming the loss on my absence. I must admit I was flattered, a bit upset they were saying it was my fault, but it definitely made me feel good since they felt I was important enough to be considered the primary reason we lost. Never mind the fact that we weren't even the best team in the tournament. I often think back to that time of my life and wonder what would have happened had I played in that game. I'll never know. But it's nice to imagine us finishing what we started and become the 8th grade football champs that year.
Once I explained to my classmates why I missed class that day they all fell silent and started apologizing for blaming me. After a few minutes, all the talk of the game and my illness was forgotten and we moved on. But for me, the memory lingers. Occasionally it creeps back into my consciousness and brings a smile to my face.
We played our hearts out and, whatever my influence may have been in our two wins, we won as a team. More importantly, I'm now in good health and I'm alive to tell the tale. I don't mean to over-dramatize that point but I have always been one who has taken my health for granted. That experience I had in the 8th grade always humbles me and reminds me how lucky I am to be where I am now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For years, this was one of my favorite stories to tell. This was my "Al Bundy" football story. I hadn't told it in years and I don't even know why it came back into my consciousness recently. Hope you liked it.
And for those of you who are wondering... YES! It really did happen to me. =)
Until next time, faithful reader......
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The details of the second game of the tournament are lost to me. The only thing I remember is all the shit talking that took place prior to the game. All the talk centered around how it would be 8-4 vs 8-5 in the finals, an honors class final.
It turns out that 8-4 lost their semifinal game so there would only be one honors class in the finals, either 8-5 or 8-3. The only detail that I recall was the outcome of our semifinal game. My class won the game. I vaguely recall it being a close game. 8-5 had their chances but they threw too many deep balls and executed poorly when it mattered most.
Now my class, 8-3, was in the finals. We were the least likely of all the honors classes to make it. You could go so far as to call us the Cinderella story of this tournament. We even had guys from other honors classes asking if they can be ringers on our team. Clearly, we made it this far without them and I wasn't about to go into the finals with a new team full of egos. We were going to win or lose on our own!
It was the morning of the final game. It was also the last day of classes before the winter break. I woke up and it seemed like any other school morning: I was slow to get up. I kept asking my mom to come back in 5 minutes so I can squeeze in a little extra sleep. I finally decided to get up, not because of any sense of responsibility: I had to pee pretty badly. I swung my legs out of bed and tried to stand up. I had a tremendous shooting pain throughout both my feet and part of the way up my shin. I couldn't walk.
I would have asked for help from my mom but I didn't hear her nearby. We lived in a duplex apartment and I suspect she was upstairs, though I don't actually know where she was at the time. I figured the pain would pass the same way the pins-and-needles sensation goes away when your leg falls asleep. I dragged myself across the floor and down the hall to the bathroom commando-style, forearm over forearm. I slowly propped my body to an upright position first using the knob on the bathroom door, then the sink, and finally with the towel rack on the wall. I was doing some strange form of dips using the sink and towel rack to hold my body up while I pivoted to try and sit on the toilet to relieve myself. I was not only humiliated for having to go to such extremes to get to the bathroom but I was also really scared. When I finished, I called out for my mom and I remember feeling like it took her forever to come over to the bathroom. I didn't have the will to drag myself back to bed.
She came over and helped me back to my bedroom. It was clear I wouldn't make it to school that day. Normally, I wouldn't care about missing a day of school, especially when it meant an extended vacation, but this time it was different. I felt like I was letting my guys down. At the same time, I was concerned about what was afflicting me. My father, who woke up hours after my sister and I left for school, was surprised to see me in the house that morning. He tried soothing my feet by soaking them in a warm Epsom salt bath. It didn't help but at least he tried something (one of the few things I give him credit for in our life together).
My only course of action now was to go see the doctor. By the time I went to see the doctor, my feet felt better and I no longer had any pain. I was able to put my weight on my feet once again ans walk normally. Whether this was due to the bed rest or some other stroke of luck is unknown but we took no chances. My mother called a cab for us to go to the doctor's office.
I was embarrassed to be in the doctor's office explaining to him the pain I felt in the morning only to have him question my ability to walk into his office unassisted. It turns out he had a strong hunch as to what was wrong with me and insisted I see a cardiologist as soon as possible. He scheduled an appointment for me with one of his colleagues (and friend) a day or two later.
I was out of the doctor's office and home by 3 o'clock. I was feeling better and I was only a short walk away from school. If I left the house around 3PM, I knew I could make it in time. I seriously considered going to school to play in that final game. In the end, I decided against it. It was partly due the fear of the pain returning while I was on the schoolyard. I also didn't want to explain to my math teacher why I wasn't in school for class but was there for the game. To this day, Mr. Kralick is my all time favorite teacher and he was also the referee for the football games. He was an intimidating SOB and I honestly didn't want to deal with him after the morning I had. All I could do was hope that my guys did well.
After seeing the cardiologist, I was diagnosed with rheumatic fever (if you want more info, click here). My doctor told me that had I waited a few more days I could have had severe damage to my heart. Had I waited a few more days, I could have died from this. It's hard for me to put myself in that position again. As a 13 year old, it was almost impossible to imagine what dying truly meant. I knew enough to know it was serious but every time I think back on that diagnosis it chills me to the bone. I could have died! All my experiences since then would be unknown to me. The people whose paths I've crossed would have been altered forever, for better or worse.
Consider what you are doing at this very moment. This would never be happening since there would be no RaUM, no Alan, and I suspect neither one of us can imagine what our lives would be like had I not gone to the doctor, had I gone to play that last game, had things been different on that fateful December morning.
Fast forward to my return to school in January. It was a new year, I had been treated for the pain and was taking daily doses of penicillin. I'd be required to get a shot of penicillin every month of my life until I turned 18. It was preventive treatment to stop any recurrence of the disease. I don't recall ever catching a cold or being sick in any way shape or form from that moment until I became an adult. It was awesome!!
I had no idea what happened in the final game of the football tournament. I was eager to find out how it went. When I walked into homeroom at the start of the day, I was greeted by several of my classmates. They then immediately started peppering me with questions. Where was I that last day of class before the break? How could I abandon them? Why did I leave them on their own? What was so important that I missed the ONE GAME that mattered? I didn't quite understand why I was forced to answer all these questions until someone finally told me what happened in the game I missed. We got massacred. Destroyed. Humiliated. Outclassed. Run over. You're welcome to continue inserting relevant adjectives here.
They were venting their frustration at losing and blaming the loss on my absence. I must admit I was flattered, a bit upset they were saying it was my fault, but it definitely made me feel good since they felt I was important enough to be considered the primary reason we lost. Never mind the fact that we weren't even the best team in the tournament. I often think back to that time of my life and wonder what would have happened had I played in that game. I'll never know. But it's nice to imagine us finishing what we started and become the 8th grade football champs that year.
Once I explained to my classmates why I missed class that day they all fell silent and started apologizing for blaming me. After a few minutes, all the talk of the game and my illness was forgotten and we moved on. But for me, the memory lingers. Occasionally it creeps back into my consciousness and brings a smile to my face.
We played our hearts out and, whatever my influence may have been in our two wins, we won as a team. More importantly, I'm now in good health and I'm alive to tell the tale. I don't mean to over-dramatize that point but I have always been one who has taken my health for granted. That experience I had in the 8th grade always humbles me and reminds me how lucky I am to be where I am now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For years, this was one of my favorite stories to tell. This was my "Al Bundy" football story. I hadn't told it in years and I don't even know why it came back into my consciousness recently. Hope you liked it.
And for those of you who are wondering... YES! It really did happen to me. =)
Until next time, faithful reader......
Sunday, August 2, 2009
The Glory Days of My Childhood (Part 1)
It was December in the middle of the 8th grade. The snow hadn't fallen yet that winter but it was beginning to get cold enough for it to happen soon. In my Junior High School, there was an intramural football tournament scheduled between several 8th grade classes. The tournament was to last 3 weeks and would be completed before the winter break.
I was in one of the four honors classes at my school in the 8th grade. Needless to say, none of the honors classes were given a chance to win because we were the "nerds" - despite having several athletic guys in our four classes. Of all the honors classes, my class (8-3) had the worst chance of all. You see, each honors class had it's own concentration, a specialty if you will. One class (8-4) was the band class, 8-6 was the art class, and there was the computer class (8-5). My class was the chorus class. Not only did we have the fewest numbers of boys out of all the classes in the 8th grade but we were also seen as inferior due to our status as choir boys. The only honors class not to participate in the tournament was 8-6.
When we put our team together, made up of practically every guy in the class - not all were athletic - I became the de facto leader of the team. My goal was to make sure we didn't get overly embarrassed in our first game and that we had fun playing in, what most expected to be, our one and only game. Yes. I admit I thought we were going to lose, as well. There were 7 others teams/classes in the tournament that we would have a tough time beating even on our best day.
In our first game we faced a solid opponent in 8-17. There were a lot of tall guys in that class and we clearly had our work cut out for us. If things looked bad for us before the tourney, things looked even bleaker when you sized us up in that first match-up. It was probably the worst possible match-up for us. Compared to 8-17, we were under-sized and a bit slower overall.
They got an early lead on us and my focus as the "coach" was to make sure everyone got to play (since we were unlikely to play again). I even took myself off the field to allow my classmates to get in the action. As I managed the game from the sidelines I started noticing two things about our opponents: (1) they were extremely cocky, especially after getting the early lead and (2) on defense, they only focused on our best players. I called in a few basic plays from the sidelines telling our QB to drop short passes to the "scrubs" (though I'm pretty sure I didn't call them that to their faces). The strategy paid off. We started moving the ball down the field very easily on 8-17 and even scored our first touchdown.
This is where their cockiness came into play. They began throwing bombs to the endzone on every play to quickly regain their lead. Our defense managed to keep them from scoring. In their frustration, they started getting upset at each other. With every completed pass by our QB, with each touchdown we scored, they became increasingly frustrated. They didn't have the "mental toughness" to stay in the game and play as well as they did in the start. We took advantage of that, mixing up our passing plays: short/long, sidelines/middle of the field, stars/scrubs.
We managed to pull off the upset in our first game against a solid team. We did it by playing smart and making it a complete team effort. When word got out of our win, everyone considered it a fluke. The other two honors classes won their match-ups so no one considered 8-3 a threat. If anything, it would be an easy win for our next opponent in the semi-finals: the most athletically talented honors class, 8-5.
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What happened to 8-3 in the semis? Will the boys in 8-3 overcome another difficult match-up? What befell our blogging hero that changed the tournament (and his life) forever?
Stay tuned for part 2 of this true story.
Until next time, faithful reader......
I was in one of the four honors classes at my school in the 8th grade. Needless to say, none of the honors classes were given a chance to win because we were the "nerds" - despite having several athletic guys in our four classes. Of all the honors classes, my class (8-3) had the worst chance of all. You see, each honors class had it's own concentration, a specialty if you will. One class (8-4) was the band class, 8-6 was the art class, and there was the computer class (8-5). My class was the chorus class. Not only did we have the fewest numbers of boys out of all the classes in the 8th grade but we were also seen as inferior due to our status as choir boys. The only honors class not to participate in the tournament was 8-6.
When we put our team together, made up of practically every guy in the class - not all were athletic - I became the de facto leader of the team. My goal was to make sure we didn't get overly embarrassed in our first game and that we had fun playing in, what most expected to be, our one and only game. Yes. I admit I thought we were going to lose, as well. There were 7 others teams/classes in the tournament that we would have a tough time beating even on our best day.
In our first game we faced a solid opponent in 8-17. There were a lot of tall guys in that class and we clearly had our work cut out for us. If things looked bad for us before the tourney, things looked even bleaker when you sized us up in that first match-up. It was probably the worst possible match-up for us. Compared to 8-17, we were under-sized and a bit slower overall.
They got an early lead on us and my focus as the "coach" was to make sure everyone got to play (since we were unlikely to play again). I even took myself off the field to allow my classmates to get in the action. As I managed the game from the sidelines I started noticing two things about our opponents: (1) they were extremely cocky, especially after getting the early lead and (2) on defense, they only focused on our best players. I called in a few basic plays from the sidelines telling our QB to drop short passes to the "scrubs" (though I'm pretty sure I didn't call them that to their faces). The strategy paid off. We started moving the ball down the field very easily on 8-17 and even scored our first touchdown.
This is where their cockiness came into play. They began throwing bombs to the endzone on every play to quickly regain their lead. Our defense managed to keep them from scoring. In their frustration, they started getting upset at each other. With every completed pass by our QB, with each touchdown we scored, they became increasingly frustrated. They didn't have the "mental toughness" to stay in the game and play as well as they did in the start. We took advantage of that, mixing up our passing plays: short/long, sidelines/middle of the field, stars/scrubs.
We managed to pull off the upset in our first game against a solid team. We did it by playing smart and making it a complete team effort. When word got out of our win, everyone considered it a fluke. The other two honors classes won their match-ups so no one considered 8-3 a threat. If anything, it would be an easy win for our next opponent in the semi-finals: the most athletically talented honors class, 8-5.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What happened to 8-3 in the semis? Will the boys in 8-3 overcome another difficult match-up? What befell our blogging hero that changed the tournament (and his life) forever?
Stay tuned for part 2 of this true story.
Until next time, faithful reader......
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