TWENTY-ONE AND EIGHT HUNDRED

Unbelievably this blog entry is number 800 for me. I guess I'm pretty transparent if I've shared my feelings and thoughts that many times. Plus, with two other blogs, I guess I just have to write even if my audience is not too large.

The movie 21 is about some MIT students who go to Vegas, count cards for blackjack, signal players and make a lot of money. While the practice is not illegal, Vegas casino owners more than frown at the practice, so it has to be done under an air of secrecy.

While I don't know Jane Willis, the character played by Kate Bosworth (pictured), her parents are good friends of ours. And that's really neat. Another former student of mine played a small role in the MIT 21. Actually, she only knew the participants and what they were doing, but her part was played on a diffferent, less elaborate role in another gambling mecca, so that's kinda neat, too. The last time a person from MTV did anything in Hollywood was when Ben Moses directed Good Morning Viet Nam. Another MTV tie was a producer for Hoosiers who married a classmate of mine from high school.

I haven't seen the movie yet. But you can bet I will. Also, I imagine I'll keep blogging, too. I mean you wouldn't want to miss out on any great reflections that I've had. Or great insights into very important issues and ideas.

CHURCH LEAGUE BASKETBALL; NOT QUITE THE NCAA C'SHIP GAME

When Coach Gill cut me from freshmen high school basketball, I was a little crushed. But I didn't want to quit playing.

After school everyday, Hoobie and I played basketball till dark at St. Mary's School. We played in the Winter at the outdoor court and would walk home in the dark and cold, red faced and sore fingered. Usually some other guys would join us. Once Donna McDonald played with us. Too bad they didn't have girls' basketball back then. She'd have been a great Number 2 guard or point.

When it really got cold, we went inside and tried intramurals but they didn't play all that much. We both went to church anyway(s), so we we joined our Church League teams.

It was a great program. Very competitive. Even at our storied high school where basketball was king, townspeople would comment that so-and-so was good enough to be on the high school team. That was seldom correct, though my senior year with The Hoob, who grew 6 inches between his sophomore and junior years, starred for the Rams along with two other starting forwards who had played Church League the prior year(s). And that team advanced to the Sectional finals, narrowly losing to Benton on a tip in. So I guess there was some merit to the program.

Hoobie, by the way, is in the MTV Hall of Fame. After high school he played for LSU with Pistol Pete Maravich. Dan Hester, "Hoobie", went on to play some professional basketball with Kentucky and Denver in the old ABA.

The only rule about playing Church League was that you had to be in attendance for Sunday School and the worship service 3 out of 4 Sundays every month, or you had to sit out for a month. It was a great motivator. I always enjoyed the prayer before and after the game, too.

It was a great program that our son enjoyed, too, when he was in high school. By that time, those guys had started playing a different game than we played. Faster, stronger, bigger. We didn't draw the crowds like the NCAA. They were just about the size pictured. But we had a ton of fun. And you never had to run "killers" in practice.

HOW TO TURN A GOOD MEAL SOUR

I love to cook out. Steaks and chops are my specialty. No sauces needed to disguise taste, to cover up a lousy cut of meat. It just takes time, and that's simply the key to good cooking.

So I took my time last night as our 83 degree day with wind was coming to a close. My butterfly pork chops, four on the grill, actually two halved for a meal today, were slowly cooking their way to perfection. Inside the house, a lettuce wedge was awaiting along with an ear of corn and some pistachio based sugar-free/fat free dessert concocted (and connotatively I use that in the best sense of the word) courtesy of my wife.

After a great dinner, we sat down to DBax baseball and NCAA basketball. My Cardinals had already won, Adams was not on last night to interfere with programming for the evening. I love David McCullough, but this Tom Hanks' version of Adams puts me to sleep every night, then when it's time for bed, I'm wide awake thanks to Adams. So I was ready for some sports and flipping back to the sports channels for updates on how The Flying Chaucers, my rotisserie baseball team was doing.

And along come the announcers. Keep in mind that I was a paid (very low) announcer of high school baseball, basketball, and football. Was I any good? Not really. But I knew when to keep my mouth shut. Well, most of the time. But these guys jabber as if they're being paid by the word; thus the windmill picture (well, windbags are hard to find). They chase more rabbit trails than big time hunters. And they don't even broadcast the game. I especially love it when there's a guest announcer who played professionally. The other guy acts as if he has to prove that, yes, he, too played a little college ball or in the minors. That was just the baseball game.

On the basketball game, the announcers had a blow out. 40-12 at one time. So they panic and think people will shut them off. "The biggest comeback ever in the NCAA final four was..." and they almost cheer openly for the Eastern (who else?) team. Which eventually lost by 18 points. "They just expended so much energy trying to catch up..." But when they were trying to catch up only a short time ago, the same announcer said,"I don't think they're expending too much energy, they're just hustling more, getting the loose balls that Kansas got in the first half."

It was enough to make me long for Tom Hanks and Adams. Well, now I'm the one with the hyperbole.