Before I succumbed to the stomache bug going around my family Friday night, I watched most of episode one of Ken Burns' Prohibition. I was quite fascinated. I had been meaning to watch it for a while. One of the things I learned that I didn't know before was that the proponents of prohibition, known as the "drys" had backed the creation of an ( Read more... )

The one thing I regret is that we didn't take a picture. I remember the scene from the picnic table where we laced up our cleats, my brothers and I: across the green grass field in Fontana, California, were the San Bernandino Mountains, looming. It was an amazing backdrop and would have made a great picture. Chris and I talked about how it had been ( Read more... )

I found this interesting blog post by Guardian writer Rick Gekoski a little while back, probably while casting about, looking for things for my sports journalism course. In it, he describes a couple of books he wished he'd written (he's got me already), and one of them was inpired by a quote from American tennis player Todd Martin after losing at ( Read more... )

We've had highs in the mid to upper 90s all week this week, with high humidity as well. This is the kind of heat that we usually get for one or two days a summer. But this week, it seems like it will never end. We have been trying to walk in the morning, before the heat gets too bad. But some time before mid-day, we usually start to crack and have ( Read more... )

This morning, I walked a familiar route from my house, toward Beacon Field. As I turned from Madison Circle onto Stevens Street, I saw cars parked on the other side of Sanderson Street, by the tennis courts. And then I saw people playing, on the other side of the hedge. It was such a lift! I broke into a big smile. There were two courts of people ( Read more... )

We paddle the River Rat to remind ourselves that we're alive. This year, 329 boats entered the 50th annual River Rat Race. We all received a number and sat in a cold, swift river and felt that jolt at the blast of the cannon, surging forward. It's on. And we careen down the river, bumping. Do you bump?, people will ask. Yes. This is the River Rat. ( Read more... )

In the Fantasy Baseball draft the weekend before last, I took Toronto starting pitcher R.A. Dickey with my fifth pick. I'd had Dickey on my team last year, picking him up as a free agent mostly because of the novelty that he was a knuckleballer. It turned out to be a genius move, as he won 20 games for the Mets and was the NL Cy Young Award winner ( Read more... )

The arena speakers blared the opening strains of AC/DC's "Hell's Bells" and the message on the jumbotron read, "Scream!" And gosh darn it, the 2,600 or so people in the stands stood up and summoned up a respectable noise. After taking somewhat dismissive notes throughout the game, now I was getting caught up in the experience. The Springfield Armor ( Read more... )

Although today I look out the window and see six inches of snow covering the ground, only three days ago, my Dad and I were playing tennis outdoors. We played on the hard courts at Forest Park in Springfield. It was about 40 degrees and sunny, with a little wind, but the courts at Forest Park are surrounded by trees, so we were somewhat protected ( Read more... )

Today's poem is from the Poem-A-Day e-mail from the Academy of American Poets. In "Tis Late," April Bernard spins a conceit out of a "local street character" who sells flowers and recites poems.

Her madness is my madness
and this is my flower in a cone
of waste paper I stole from
someone’s more authentic grief
I saw the poem earlier today, read a ( Read more... )