Monday, January 31, 2005

The WCL and Champions

The MVP award is probably sports highest accolade. In fact it is quite an honor even out of the sports world. For example, you could earn it at your profession. Let's say car salesman. You are the best. You are the most valuable player.

Rookie of the year is the highest distinction of the freshman class. All rookies strive for it, but there can be only one.

The question is, has a rookie ever taken home both awards? I racked my brain and could not think of any player that has taken home both awards. I did a quick Google search and found nothing. Certainly there are some examples of some rookies that came close. The first player that comes to my mind is Ben Roethlisberger of the Pittsburgh Steelers. He had a great rookie year, but will fall short of the coveted MVP award.

Tucked away a few miles north of Lexington, is a town called Cynthiana. Here you will find home to the Whitaker Croquet League or WCL. To give you a little history, the league was founded about 20 years ago. It started small, and very informal. It has come along way and is still growing. Here is where we learn of the WCL's first ever rookie to take home both the Rookie of the Year Award AND Most Valuable Player. The year was 2003. The newcomer was none other than me. On one of my first trips to the Whitaker compound I was quickly thrown into the most competitive league I have ever experienced. The trash talking was intense. The Whitakers would and will stop at nothing (including cheating) to win. I can think of one Whitaker that is so good that he handicaps himself by playing with only one arm. Another will intentionally not go out so that they can torment the other players as rover.

However, that season nothing could break me. I totally electrified the league. With signature moves, such as hitting balls into oblivion, and overcoming the nonstop cheating I could not be stopped.

At the conclusion of the 2003 I was unanimously voted in as MVP and Rookie of the Year, a feat that has yet to be repeated in the WCL and throughout the sports world.

Tonight as you think about your heroes and their tremendous accolades, and as you think of goals to set for yourself feel free to think of me and my 2003 season.

Monday, January 10, 2005

The Scream

When I hear or see the word scream I am only reminded of one thing….Cheating. Maybe cheating isn’t the right word. It is probably better described as shenanigans. The scream is a tactic used by Alecia to disable me. You see while we are in our mid twenties, most of the time we act like we are children not older than seven or eight. We play tag, we race to the car, and we race to the door. When one of us is defeated we make up rules to make the others win null and void such as “we didn’t make eye contact”, or “it wasn’t a race”.

However Alecia is especially tricky…like a liberal. When being chased or during a race she screams. It doesn’t matter where we are. Whether it be a cruise ship, a casino, a fancy restaurant parking lot, or even a busy lobby. When being chased or while racing she screams! The scream sends me into laughing hysterics. It is all she needs to gain the advantage and win most of the competitions. I guess most of the humor I get is this grown women being chased by her boyfriend and screaming like a school girl regardless of environment. The best is making it to the finish, which is usually some type of door. We both are out of breath and I am laughing uncontrollably. The laughter then spreads to Alecia, and in turn cracks me up even more. Add the strange looks from the people in whatever environment we are in and you have some pretty funny stuff.

I love the scream.

I Remember

Occasionally tidbits of my early childhood will pop into my mind. When I say early, I mean very early. So early, that most experts would say that it is impossible. Anyway there is this one memory that has crept up on me as of late. I wrote it down and made a note to ask my parents about it. It was in the house at Forest Hills which would have made me no older than three years old. I storm into my parent’s bedroom. They both are there. I guess I was upset because I start rattling off all the cusswords that I know. It probably was quite a few because I had four older brothers, lots of older cousins, and parents who didn’t hold back on their language. The memory ends with the last curse.
On the phone with my mother tonight I asked her if she remembered. She did. She explained that I was mad which she said I was most of the time. She said I came into their room cursing. She said it was virtually impossible for her and my dad to keep from laughing. I asked her what they did about it and she said nothing. But after I got off the phone with her I remember being talked to about it.
How funny and shocking it must have been to see your three year old son curse you out. The life of a parent.