Parents Gone Wild

The basketball fan was worked into a full frenzy before the game even began, perhaps enjoying some sort of adult concoction as part of his pre-game ritual.

Immediately after tip-off, his voice erupted throughout the venue. He originally rooted for his favorite team, but quickly degenerated to mocking the opponent. He even gave a false countdown at the end of a quarter, trying to trick the opponent into shooting too soon. The players were too smart to fall for it.

All of this might’ve been harmless enough fun if it were at the Yum Center or Rupp Arena. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Instead, the venue was a local church on a Saturday morning and the players were 10-year-old boys and girls. That’s right, this guy wasn’t hollering at Duke or North Carolina. He was hollering at a team called “The Blue’s Clues.” Granted, I’ve done my fair share of taunting over the years at sporting events, but I like to at least wait until the players reach puberty to do so.

Having been involved in youth sports for a long time, I’ve known parents to lose perspective at their kids’ games before, but never like this. Before it was over, parents were yelling at parents, coaches were yelling at coaches and at least one person was asked to leave, although the instigator somehow managed to stay. The teenage referees did their best to straighten things out, but were ill equipped to handle the mess.

It ended poetically enough with someone turning off the lights as they left the gym despite the fact that there was another game remaining to be played.

In this league, there are no standings, trophies or all-star teams. The purpose is to have fun and learn good sportsmanship.

So much for that.

How about you? Any good stories of youth sports “parents gone wild?”

Who's On Your Bucket List?

Seeing The Who was one of the things on my bucket list.

Ideally, I would’ve seen them in their heyday with their full lineup. With that no longer possible, I was looking forward to seeing Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend at Louisville’s KFC Yum! Center last weekend. I was not disappointed … and yet I kind of was, if that makes any sense.

For a couple of aging rock stars, Daltrey and Townshend had plenty of pep. They put together a show of sufficient length and energy. The problem is they did it while playing a bunch of songs I’d never heard of, and I’m a pretty ardent fan.

The Who could’ve easily filled two hours with their greatest hits. Instead, in pure, indulgent Townshend fashion, they featured their Quadraphenia concept album. Of course, I knew that going in and accepted it, but it still made for an uneven performance.

The show opened in familiar enough territory with “The Real Me.” But then it settled into the meat of the Quadraphenia story, accompanied by a multimedia presentation. I won’t bore you here with all the details except to say that Pink Floyd’s Roger Waters does a better job in the rock opera format with “The Wall.”

But then a funny thing happened. About the time the Who hit “5:15,” I was buying into Quadraphenia. I remained engaged until they reached a wonderful crescendo with “Love, Reign o'er Me.” Having finished the album, the Who then whipped the crowd into a final frenzy, running through such hits as “Who Are You?,” “Baba O’Riley,” “Behind Blue Eyes,” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again.”

Sure, Daltrey missed a couple words. And he can’t hit two big notes in a row anymore. But he and his long-term partner ultimately proved worthy of my bucket list status, even if it took them awhile to get there.

Submarine Book Has Depth

I just finished reading my friend Todd Tucker's latest novel Collapse Depth, which is available for download at the Kindle store.

I have particularly enjoyed Todd’s non-fiction writing over the years, since this is my preferred genre. I’m just one of those “ripped straight from the headlines” kind of guys.

So I approached Collapse Depth with a little trepidation. Nevertheless, the novel worked for me because Todd made it feel real while traveling to fanciful territory. Undoubtedly, he drew upon his background as a naval officer – as well as his knowledge of history – to pull it off.

Todd’s knowledge particularly shines through as he describes life aboard a nuclear submarine, including the language, the rivalries, the living and the gadgets. He does this in a way that satisfies the curiosity of landlubbers without overwhelming us.

But this isn’t a submarine manual. Todd pays close attention to character development too as he unveils the players, their backgrounds and their motives. We meet administrators who yearn for the sea, sailors who yearn for the land and spouses who yearn for information.

Todd accomplishes this without interfering with the underlying whodunit story. He deftly switches back and forth between sailors on a submarine mission gone wrong and supporters at home dealing with the consequences. He rewards readers for paying close attention as the mystery unfolds, although there are some red herrings along the way.

Because of the way it is structured, Collapse Depth is a quick and satisfying read. Key scenes played out in my mind’s eye like an action adventure movie. (If you're optioning movies, I bet Todd wouldn't mind hearing from you).

The book met my personal need for authenticity while holding my attention with an entertaining story. Unless I’m mistaken, I don’t think we’ll get another history book out of Todd anytime soon, so I’ll eagerly await the sequel to this one.

Disclaimer: Todd has kindly included me in the acknowledgments section of his past books. I hold no malice that this e-book does not carry any acknowledgments.

Hummingbird Flying off Shelves

When the Elaine character in the television series Seinfeld discovers that one of her favorite products is being pulled from the shelves, she immediately buys the remaining stock and uses it sparingly so as not to run out.

The Hummingbird flosser

When it comes to the Oral-B Hummingbird electric flosser, I feel just like Elaine.

My flossing habits aren’t exactly ideal, as my dentist is quick to point out, in writing no less. The Hummingbird makes it a little easier, packing a powerful plaque pounding punch into a small inexpensive package. Additionally, just like an electric toothbrush, the Hummingbird head can be replaced when it wears out. Lately, the replacement heads have been harder to find, if not downright impossible. I began to suspect the worst. Soon, those fears were realized. Somehow, the finest flosser that ever existed has been discontinued.

Once I confirmed this travesty, I hurried to the Web and plugged “Oral-B” and “Hummingbird” into a search, hoping to find one last stash and stockpile it, just like Elaine. Although discontinued, the Hummingbird must’ve enjoyed a devoted following as a black market has sprung up run by ne’er-do-wells more concerned with profiteering than oral health. These things were going like Super Bowl tickets.

Through sheer determination, I found three Hummingbirds available over the Web at retail price. I pounced on all three. Each has three replacement heads. That will cover me for a while, but my supply will eventually run dry, leaving my dentist to document the decay. So, from now on, as I clean up and prepare to leave the house, I’ll consider my destination and put it to the Elaine test: Is this occasion Hummingbird worthy?

Big Times in the Big Easy

I just got back from a family trip to New Orleans to witness the greatest victory in the history of Louisville football over Florida in the Sugar Bowl. Following are the impressions of a first-time visitor to the Big Easy on the city and the game.

• Food, food and more food. We toured New Orleans on our stomachs from shrimp creole to gumbo to Pepto. A little more on that later.
• When you’re traveling to New Orleans for the first time, always seek the advice of a native, such as my good friend Dave Kemmerly. Dave advised us to stay in the Hilton Riverside, right in the middle of everything. He was right. Unfortunately, it also turned out to be the official hotel of the Florida team, band, cheerleaders, parents, fans, etc. The hotel bellman spied our University of Louisville attire as he took us to our room and said, “Y’all trouble makers, aren’t you?” In a city run amok with Cardinal fans by everyone’s account, we managed to spend a great deal of our time behind enemy lines.
• Although it sounds like a designer drug, Zydeco is actually a kind of Creole music that features the accordion. And when you feature the accordion, “The Chicken Dance” can’t be far behind, as we found out at Mulate’s.
•  As mentioned earlier, I inadvertently spent a lot of time with Florida fans, including a mile-long walk from the Superdome after U of L’s victory. I wasn’t looking forward to that one, but Gator fans were all class. They frequently congratulated us on the victory and praised U of L quarterback Teddy Bridgewater.
• Not that I blame them, but the UF players were not nearly as collegial after the loss. My wife used one word to describe them: “seething.” Better them than me.
• Although primarily known for its French influences, New Orleans is a melting pot for a lot of different cultures, including Italian. We picked up a famous muffaletta sandwich at the Central Grocery, which felt like the meat market in the Sopranos. The sandwich was terrific, even if they may have been smuggling Zydeco from the back.
• I don’t know exactly how much powdered sugar they pour on the beignets at Café DuMonde, but I’m betting it arrives on Decatur Street in cement trucks. I wore more on my sweatshirt than I ate. But believe me, I’m not complaining.
• One of my stated goals in New Orleans was to pick up an authentic voodoo doll. After spending a little time in one of those shops, I can tell you that voodoo is something that sounds better in theory than in practice. I found the black arts just aren’t for me. Plus, most of my enemies have been smitten already anyway.

That’s our trip to New Orleans in a nutshell: a great victory, a friendly rival, delicious food from breakfast through dinner, and a safe return without a curse or Zydeco addiction.