Will and Drew got free tickets at school to the Tulsa Oilers hockey game tonight which was additionally free kid's jersey night...so how could we pass that up! Mama and Landon stayed home while Daddy and the big boys took in the game along with 10,032 other fans.

There was plenty of great hockey to watch. The boys really enjoyed themselves. Unfortunately, Tulsa lost 5 to 2 despite the Tulsa oilers beating the Allen Americans the first three times they had met this year.

Unfortunately, there were too many plays like this. Notice the hockey puck just above the tip of the hockey stick...it was on its way into the net. (#33 Ian Keserich)

And, not enough plays like this. Tulsa goalie #33, Ian Keserich, making a save.

Later in the game, newcomer #35, Steve Christie, was put in as Tulsa's goalie.

The Allen Americans goalie #32, Rejean Beauchemin.

It was nice of everyone to line up like they did so that I could get a good photo. Notice the puck just dropped between the referee's legs.

If my memory serves me correct, the Tulsa Driller had just been needlessly checked hard into the wall and had simply had enough of the opposing players crap. How do you fight with gloved-hands, with an elbow to the head of course. I explained quite well a few years back my opinions on fighting in hockey.

During the game I noticed the opposing team appearing to take a number of cheap shots at the Oilers and attempting to goad them on to escalate into something more. For the most part, our boys refused to take the bait. My photos (700+) really showed this to have been the case. Time and time again a series of high speed shots would show an American going after an Oiler and not once do my photos show the reverse to be true. I could have posted any one of several photos/series but take the above as an example.

Notice how every player is looking down at the puck. Well, all except one guy. One guy who no longer cares about the puck right in front of his own goal.

You see, Mr. D'Apostrophe has stopped playing hockey. Despite no one doing him any physical harm whatsoever, he's gotten it in his mind that he has the right to put the hurt on someone because...ummm...[I've got no words to put here since there is no logical reasoning behind this guy's actions].

My very next photo shows D'Apostrophe making a cheap head shot against a player who wasn't even looking at him let alone doing anything warranting a return of physical aggression. In short, this gentleman is what is known as an ass. It is really sad that this type of behavior and the fighting that often follows is tolerated, if not promoted.

I hadn't looked back at the post I linked to above until I started to write this after the game tonight. In the post I pondered the fact that I had no answer to the question: "Dad, why are they letting them fight?" It was rather prophetic given this exchange that occurred tonight:

Drew: What are they doing?
Daddy: They're fighting.
Drew: Why are they fighting?
Daddy: Well in other sports they don't let the players fight at all, but in hockey they let them fight a little bit.
Drew: Why?
Daddy: I don't know.
Drew: That's just stupid.
Daddy: Yes, it is.

Professional hockey...meah.

This morning we all ran in the Tulsa Run Fun Run.

Drew and I ran together, Uncle David ran with Will and Mama and Landon ran/rolled together. Afterwards, we made it just in time to McDonald's for a family breakfast.

Drew has taken up golf. Now, you don't just throw a second grader out on the course, so Drew has been taking lessons. Here is Drew's backswing.

This was Drew's fifth lesson and it was a beautiful day for me to get away from the office a little early to take some pictures of Drew's newest endeavor. Drew blasting away at the poor defenseless little golf ball. This must be a new grip and wrist position they teach now days.

Drew really likes golf. He said he likes it a much as baseball and couldn't pick which on he likes better.

The lessons driving range at Battle Creek Golf Club in Broken Arrow.

The Battle Creek Golf Club buildings.

Drew's golf swing using his favorite driver. He's working on a modified-Happy Gilmore technique.

The weather was absolutely perfect today and we took advantage of it by playing some baseball in the backyard. I caught Will just as he released the ball.

Drew had his game face on

The pictures I was taking were nice and all but nothing too exciting. So...I sat down right in front of Will and told him to, "Hit the camera!" Those of you thinking he might be hesitant to hit a line drive into his father looking through the lens of a camera would be completely wrong. Instead, Will had a smile he couldn't wipe from his face as he applied a new found level of concentration and enthusiasm to the task of beaning his father.

Will's best shot of the afternoon was a bouncer just over my left shoulder.

Not being the brightest father on the block, I let Drew take his shot at getting Daddy a new camera and/or trip to the emergency room. Fortunately, Drew was a little off his game. While he easily hit the fence on the opposite side of the yard, Drew was unable to get a good line drive and had to settle for a right down the center one-hopper that went well above my head.

Tonight the firm I work for sponsored an evening at the Tulsa Drillers baseball game on the Tiki Deck on the third base end of Oneok Field. This is the view of downtown Tulsa from Oneok Field.

Our view of the field. The park is just one year old and very well thought out, seating 7,833 (the Drillers are AA).

Pitching for the Drillers tonight was Christian Friedrich. Unfortunately, the Tulsa Drillers' nine-game win streak came to an end tonight with a 7-3 loss to the Springfield Cardinals.

This photo shows why first basemen are usually pretty tall.

I was lucky enough to catch the Drillers' Ben Paulsen exactly when he hit a home run (the full size is tack sharp). I wound up trading the photo for a ball. We happened to meet one of the owners, Jeff Hubbard, and he tracked down a ball for us. After the game, I emailed off this photo along with a link where all my photos of Paulsen hitting and rounding the bases could be downloaded.

The kids in our group were selected to go on the field between innings to play a bean bag toss game.

Will getting some camera time and getting ready to toss his bean bag.

Drew doing a one-hand over the shoulder toss.

Later in the evening, the son of a co-worker was chosen to be the victim of the Drillers' mascot Hornsby.

Mama and her boys enjoying an evening at the ball park.

Landon enjoying the game. I didn't get a good picture of it, but Landon spent a lot of time with his glove on, "ball catch." Fortunately, he was the one with me when we got a ball and was grinning from ear to ear with his prize.

Will at the ball park.

Drew at the ball park. We all had a great time at the ball game.

For Father's Day, Mary and the boys got me a new baseball glove, a Rawlings REVO 950 with a 12.75 inch thumb to ring/little finger solid core deep pocket. The perfect glove! And, they even had it personalized at the factory: "DANZ."

With the ability to customize every aspect of a baseball glove today, there are a near infinite number of options. But, as a traditionalist, I like the classic leather color all around with the Pro H web and a minimum of floppy lacing for a clean professional look.

I have an old Spalding baseball glove that I've had with me over the years but I don't remember if it was originally mine, my sister's, a family glove or just something I picked up somewhere. I never played organized baseball after grade school and I don't remember ever buying a glove after that either. I was always all about basketball.

The boys and I played some baseball in the backyard tonight. The glove felt and worked awesome. Two or three years ago when Drew could only hit wiffle ball dribblers off the tee, I told him if he ever hit a home run over our fence that I'd take him out for ice cream. Tonight, Drew's improvement over the spring season really showed as he hit line drive after line drive into our fence from across the yard. I knew it was only a matter of time. Finally, he pounded a high one through the tree and well into our neighbor's yard. After dinner, we all went out for some well-deserved ice cream. It was a wonderful Father's Day.

Drew's baseball team had a miniature golf outing and pizza party today that Mary, as team parent (f/k/a team mother), organized and I attended with Drew and Will. This is Drew teeing off.

Will was very proud to wear his big brother's baseball jersey excitedly stating, "They'll think I'm on the team!" This is Will teeing off.

Drew tapping in a short putt.

Will putting from the edge of the green (and showing his ambidexterity).

The boys had a great time and then chowed down on some pizza.

Drew had his last baseball game of the season tonight. The team had its share of unfortunate breaks and wound up around .500 with no championships or place finishes. But, one definite bright side was the coaches. We were very fortunate to have a great coach and assistant coaches who really cared about the kids and kept the focus on having fun while still learning the game and trying out new positions. Clearly not every coach in the league has the right balance and we really appreciate the coaches we've had the last two years. The coaches even got together themselves and surprised the boys with trophies for all their hard work and great efforts throughout the season. Drew wants to keep playing next year or, maybe, again this fall.

What do little brothers do at their big brothers' baseball game?

Sit like little angles and watch their big brothers...of course.

Today Drew did something no other Danz had ever done...he played catcher. It turns out his coach had previously ask each player if there was any position they wanted to play that they had not yet had a chance to play. Unbeknownst to Mama and Daddy, Drew told his coach he wanted to play catcher. Today Drew got his chance.

Without any training, practice or guidance whatsoever, Drew donned the the catcher's gear and bravely placed himself behind home plate. At this level of three ball coach pitch then off the tee, some catchers squat down all the way while some do like Drew chose to do and just half squat.

Drew kept close track of where the runners were and was ready at the plate in case a throw could challenge a runner going home. Unfortunately, the opportunity never came.

Drew also showed off some great form at the plate on his way to another hit.

I took the morning off from work and went to Will's soccer practice today. The blog had been lacking in Will activity photos lately, so time to make up for the omission.

The lighting at Soccer City is horrible to begin with and they only had half their lights on but I was still able to get some good action shots.

Note the concentration in the face and the mouth/tongue action.

Will was smiling the whole time today. He really enjoys playing soccer but, overall, there aren't many happier kids than Will. The hula hoop is part of Alien Tag where you try to kick the soccer ball at the alien, the person with the hula hoop. It's a favorite of the kids and always pulled out when the parents are asked to participate.

Just as Will sat through all of Drew's soccer practices, and now baseball games, Landon cheers on Will at each one of his soccer practices. After the jump eight more action shots of Will playing soccer.

Drew hit the ball today and both Drew and the catcher took off racing for first. Now why would the catcher get into a footrace with the batter?

Because the catcher was chasing down a dribbler hit down the first base line. Despite a phenomenal effort by the catcher who got after the short grounder as fast as any big leaguer, Drew was able to beat our the throw and wind up safe at first.

Drew racing to second. Now if the length of one's stride corresponded to speed, Drew (and his father) would be world class sprinters.

Drew rounding third.

Finally, Drew catching air as he is about to stamp down on home plate. Aunt Donelda really enjoyed getting a chance to see her nephew play ball while she was in town.

Tonight's baseball game was against one of the better teams which meant lots of fielding opportunities for everyone. Here's Drew fielding a hard hit grounder at third. Note the perfect use of his baseball cap pushed down low to keep out the bright setting sun.

Drew in center field running to meet a deeply hit grounder.

Just as the ball leaves Drew's hand as he throws in from center field to cut off the advancing runner.

There simply aren't too many awesome plays in 1st grade coach pitch baseball, but this one rocked. Drew and an infielder hustled after a grounder hit into the gap in the outfield. Drew got there first, slid to a stop, and stopped the ball while the infielder jumped over Drew. If Drew hadn't slid, they would have knocked right into each other. It was a major league play by a pair of seven year-olds playing their hearts out.

Thanks to the the bright low sun, my Canon 7D with 200mm zoom, a camera position along the third-base line and a grounder hit to the fence in deep left center, I was able to get these great close-ups of Drew.

Just after Drew threw the ball to the infield.

Taken from the third-base line for a change, Drew hitting a coach pitch ball.

After three coach pitches that Babe Ruth couldn't have touched, Drew walloped one off the tee.

Drew running from first base.

Drew running from third base.

Finally, Drew's favorite part, scoring at home plate.

Drew played his second game of the season tonight. Here he is on the way to first with an RBI in the background on the way home.

I love this photo. Drew was playing third and there was a popup just over his head. It wound up dropping before he could get it (it wasn't hit very high) but Drew made a great effort for the ball.

Drew displaying perfect form getting his body in front of a ground ball, taking a knee and watching the ball into his glove.

Drew throwing the ball in that he just fielded in center field.

This series of three photos shows why it is so important to get in front of ground balls. This was a really hard hit grounder that went right up the middle to Drew in center field.

Unfortunately, the ball took a wicked hop right before it got to Drew.

Drew, having perfectly gotten in front of the ball, sacrifices his body to stop the ball and prevent the runner from getting extra bases. Ouch!

Drew in the dugout.

Baseball fan Will taking in the game.

Landon sitting in Mama's lap learning all about baseball and cheering on his oldest brother.

Tonight was a chilly and dreary start to Drew's baseball season. But, it all ended well with Drew playing center field and pitcher, hitting 2 for 3, and winning the game 18 to 15 in 3 1/2 innings. Go Bearcats! This is Drew just about to get one of his hits.

Drew running to first. There was a mix-up and the uniform shop sent us t-shirts instead of jerseys. So, we got free t-shirts out of the deal and should have jerseys by the next game. It was so cold Drew was wearing sweats under his uniform pants and two long sleeve shirts and a sweatshirt under his team t-shirt. After the game, Drew said just his right hand was cold.

Drew scoring a run...

...just ahead of the throw home.

This is a series of photos of Drew fielding a grounder hit to him when he was playing pitcher. Notice the rocking awesome glove. It was my glove about 38 years ago!

Today, Drew, Will, Uncle David and I ran in the 33rd annual Tulsa Run. Mama has been sick and so she sat out this year and stayed home with Landon. Drew and I ran the 2K Fun Run while Will and Uncle David took a more leisurely pace. The weather was perfect and everyone had a great time!

The firm I work for had a suite at the new ONEOK Field tonight for the last regular season home game of the Tulsa Drillers. The Drillers lost but it was a good game that came down to the last batter.

I played a half-dozen years of little league, watched my sister play high school softball, played in various intramural and recreational leagues, been a Cubs fan for nearly 40 years, watch the occasional World Series game and enjoy catching a few minutes of Sports Center late at night. In all that time I never before heard (or don't recall) the term "walk-off hit" or "walk-off home run." How did I miss this? Everyone around me tonight knew the term when the announcer mentioned it over the intercom. Funny how you can duck and dodge a single piece of knowledge for half a lifetime. Cool though that I learned something new today.

The Tulsa skyline from ONEOK field.

Drew finished up his first T-Ball season tonight with his team taking first place in the Tulsa Kids Baseball City Wide Kindergarten Tournament. (Add, this championship to his team's first place finish in the Union Kids Baseball Kindergarten regular season and third place in the UKB Kindergarten post-season tournament.)

Landon and Will were real troopers going to every game and cheering on their brother.

Drew's t-ball team, the Cobras, finished the regular season in first place. This earned Drew his very first trophy. In a post-season tournament, Drew's team got third place for which Drew got a medal. There's still one more tournament we will probably play in and a chance for another trophy/medal. Tonight, the team had a special presentation where each child was called up one at a time to collect their hardware. (I took pictures and made them available to everyone).

Drew with Coach Lack and Head Coach Rogers. All of the coaches really did a terrific job with all of the kids. They took a rag tag group of kindergartners who many literally didn't know how to get someone out or how to score a run and made a team of ball players. The coaches did it all with patience and class while keeping it a positive and fun experience for the kids. Thanks coaches!

All of the Cobras players and coaches. Coach Rogers waited until everyone could be present before handing out the trophies and medals. All of the players on the team were great kids with unique personalities and skills. It was really fun getting to know them and watching them evolve into a team.

[Update:]

On the last day of school, Drew, a few of his teammates and Coach Rogers presented Principal Wilson with the two trophies the team won.

The Cobras' team trophies now proudly reside in the school's trophy case.

Drew's t-ball tournament concluded today with a double-header. Fortunately, we had a couple of hours of break time after the morning game to go home, have a leisurely lunch and rest up for the evening game.

Drew showing his powerful hitting stance as he lifts his front leg before swinging. He came up with this all by himself and, admittedly, it's not necessarily the best technique for a kindergartner just learning to hit...but it is pretty cute.

Drew running to first after another hit. He wound up going 4 for 5 during the three game tournament against the first graders.

[When I get some time, I'll insert a movie here of a couple of Drew's at bats.]

Drew scoring a run for his team!

Drew fielding a ground ball.

Drew, looking good in his Cobras uniform.

This evening, Drew had his very first baseball game. Here he is stretching before the game. The boys didn't even have their jerseys yet (they were handed out just before the game started).

Drew is very excited about his first game.

A video of Drew's first ever official at bat. The game was part of a preseason tournament which was supposed to be t-ball against other kindergartners but because there were not enough teams his age they had to play against first-graders coach-pitch for the first three pitches. Despite not having practiced coach-pitch (except a little with Daddy) Drew hit a coach-pitched double his first time up and went 2 for 2 for the day! (The video is a little shaky as Daddy needs to work on his technique.)

Drew running home to score his first run.

A happy baseball player in the dugout.

Drew's second at-bat, resulting in a base hit.

A proud young boy on first base talking to his coach.

Drew ready to run from second as soon as the ball is hit. Thanks to his teammates, Drew was able to score both times he came up to bat.

Drew had his first ever official t-ball practice today and it was really cold. Just a quick 20 minutes where each boy got a chance to bat twice. I hadn't planned on taking pictures, so just some quick and dirty iPhone pics below.

The team waiting in line for their chance at bat.

A strange batting stance but guaranteed to get the ball down the third base line which in t-ball means a certain base hit.

Drew sliding home!

Drew (right) has been training for the Tulsa Run at school every Wednesday with the Jefferson Milers. Today, Mama, Daddy, Will (left), Landon and Uncle David joined him for the 2k Fun Run!

Daddy with Landon, Drew, Uncle David and Will before the race.

The start of the 2009 Tulsa Run - Fun Run.

Landon was exhausted after his 2k run and decided to take a nap on the walk back to the car.

Action Sports International sent me this terrific proof pic of Drew, Landon and me. [Is it a violation of ASI's copyright to post this proof photo with their copyright intact and unaltered, on a non-commercial website, when I am ordering copies of the photo? Or, might it come under some "fair use" exception?]

Drew and Will after soccer practice yesterday at Soccer City.

Earlier this summer the boys got a new bike which, of course, Drew gets to ride first.

We agonized a lot over whether to get a cheapo Walmart bike or a higher quality Trek. I was originally pulling for a one size larger Trek but Drew really liked the Spiderman bike and he seemed more confident on its smaller size. Given the fact that Drew's growing like crazy and the Walmart Spiderman bike being less than a third of the price of the Trek, the purchase made since for a first bike that might not be ridden too long. It will also also allow Will to start riding earlier too.

Will on his tricycle. Both boys know they always have to wear their helmets when they ride their bikes. Knee and elbow pads are optional...Will insisted on wearing them (they came with Drew's helmet).

Drew and Daddy on Drew's first ever bike ride.

Four and a half year old Drew is practicing his free throws. The position of his feet looks pretty good, good concentration, but his fingertips need to be centered on the seam...we'll work on that. We take free throws very serious. There is simply no reason not to shoot over 80% from the free throw line. The shot is always from the exact same place, you have plenty of time and no one is guarding you or trying to block or alter your shot. None of that can be said about any other shot. Professional basketball players who earn tens of millions of dollars a year and hundreds of millions over a career and can't shoot free throws better than some average high school player (me!) are bums. There is no excuse.

Thanks to a coworker who won free tickets for a pre-game picnic and Tulsa Drillers baseball game, we all took in an evening of America's past time. The Tulsa Drillers are the Texas League double-A farm team of the Colorado Rockies. They played the Springfield (Missouri) Cardinals and, although tied when we had to leave to make bedtime, the Drillers wound up losing 3-2.

A right-handed batter making contact.

And, a left-handed batter making contact.

Will and Drew enjoying some cotton candy, followed later by some ice cream in a miniature baseball helmet.

On the way out of the stadium, we were lucky enough to see the start of a horse race at the Tulsa Fair Meadows race track. As you may gather from the blurry photograph, the horses were fast!

Our next door neighbor filled up their inflatable pool today much to the delight of Drew, Will and a bunch of neighborhood Michael Phelps and Amanda Beards.

Drew started out a little timid, but by the end, he had thrown all caution to the wind, so much so that Momma had to restrain herself to keep from being too protective.

Will mostly just hung out, looked cool and watched the big kids. Later, he enjoyed being lifted and dropped into the pool mimicking the big kids. And, yes, we Danzes are naturally that pale, bring your sunglasses, if not to protect you from the sun then from the glare off of our bodies. Two more pictures after the jump.

Cannonball !!!

Belly flop !!!

[Non-sequential photos, your mileage may vary, past performance does not predict future results, I'm from the government and I'm hear to help you.]

Mary took the boys out to the park to play some basketball this week and got some great photos of the boys working on their hoops skilz!

Will only grunted but we're pretty sure he was saying, "Holy four-fingered hand that rim is high!"...even if it is only an 8-foot rim.

Drew getting ready for his two and one-handed jump shots.

Check out Drew's jump shot and the air he's getting! He's already got the same vertical leaping ability of his father. And, look at that follow through...the kid's got potential. (Great camera work by Mama.)

Today we all went to see the University of Tulsa Golden Hurricanes play the University of Houston Cougars at TU's Skelly Field/Chapman Stadium, the last game before a $20 million renovation begins. Coming into the game Tulsa was 6-3 (4-2 in league) while Houston was 6-3 (5-1 in league). Houston would have clinched the West Division of the Conference USA with a win today. But it was not to be.

It was Senior Day and Tulsa's senor quarterback, Paul Smith #12, had the game of his life in a 56-7 blowout of Houston. Smith threw for 313 passing yards with 5 touchdown throws and, on a 37 yard pass in the third quarter to Dion Toliver #15, Smith broke the single-season passing record with 3,496 yards, broke the career-passing record with 9,367 yards and tied the record for most touchdown passes in a single season with 34. Paul Smith left the field, his last home game for TU, with a standing ovation.

Tulsa held Houston scoreless 56-0 until late in the fourth quarter when Houston scored their only touchdown against Tulsa's 2nd sting.

Here you can see wide receiver Jesse Meyer #84 about to make a catch; running back Tarrion Adams #25 on the run; quarterback Paul Smith #12 making a handoff to running/defensive back Dillon Brumbugh #23; and punter Paul Jurado #48 holding for place kicker Jarod Tracy #29 who was a perfect 8 for 8 for the day (49 out of 50 for the season).

We even got to see a handsome young man propose to his cheerleading future bride...she said yes. One of the reasons we attended today was that Aunt Catherine is on the University of Tulsa Dance Team, but she is out with an injury and unable to perform.

Click "Continue reading" to see a multi-photo stop-motion breakdown of a successful play by TU.

Finally, at some point I put the camera on continuous shooting and caught a nice sequence of photos showing the anatomy of a football play. Click the photo for a larger popup showing the ball in the air on the snap, quarterback Paul Smith #12 fake handoff to running back Tarrion Adams #25, the handoff to running back Dillon Brumbugh#23 and his progress up the line behind some textbook blocking. It's interesting to focus on different players throughout the sequence to see how everyone carries out their own individual task and how it all comes together to accomplish a desired collective goal. Teamwork in action!

It was an absolutely perfect day today; 70 degrees, no wind, not a cloud in the sky. After lunch, we all headed out to the backyard for some t-ball.

Drew is just a week shy of 4 years and has mastered keeping his eye on the ball.

Will is just 15 months old and while Drew, mom and dad were distracted doing something else, Will picked up a bat, put a ball on the tee and whacked it right off. We grabbed the camera and got some video of him doing it again but, of course, it's never as good as the one you miss.

YouTube version after the jump.

I know what you were thinking, I wish Don would post some more videos of his kids playing soccer. I aim to please, and so here is Will who also got some kicks in yesterday while at his big brother's soccer practice. Oh, and if you don' t like the football club music from the two prior videos, don't worry, this is more mainstream...but still not exactly on the American airwaves, at least not yet.

Will had a little bit tougher time than at home since he had to deal with shoes, turf and distractions all around. But, considering he's only been walking about a week and half, I think he's doing incredibly well. I'm amazed at his desire to kick the ball. You can't hear it, but he laughs or cackles many of the times he kicks the ball.

The music is Heart Full of Pride by the Swedish band Perkele. [Update: I checked out some more music by Perkele and let's just say that Heart Full of Pride is the only song of their's that interests me.]

(YouTube version after the jump.)

After soccer practice today, I filmed Drew dribbling and scoring some wicked goals.

Drew has improved quite a lot from just a year ago.

The music, There's Only One United, is a song of the Manchester United Red Devils.

(YouTube version after the jump.)

ME: Hello, my name is Don.
YOU: Hello, Don.
ME: I'm addicted to European soccer...sorry, European football club music.

So, I went looking for some background music for Will's debut soccer video and did a Google search for "soccer music" not realizing what I would find. Wow! A click here, a click there, and the next thing you know, I'm hooked. Sure, it's not high brow, but it is high energy. I'm definitely going to make a workout playlist (I was going to say mix tape, I'm so old) from my downloads.

Anyway, this is Will at 13 months. He's only been taking serious unassisted steps for about two weeks and truly walking for one but he wants to kick the purple ball (play soccer) just like his big brother. We've been trying to get as much video of Will's drunken sailor stage as possible...it's already starting to fade. They grow up so fast.

The music, Stand Up for the Champions, is a song of the Arsenal Gunners.

(Inferior YouTube version after the jump.)

The title says it all, 755 is greater than 756*.

Oh, and if you want to see the all time Major League Baseball home run king, click "Continue reading."

My sister Donelda Danz was inducted today into the Illinois Basketball Coaches Association (IBCA) Hall of Fame as a player.

Three thousand were in attendance at the annual ceremonies which recognizes outstanding achievement in news media, friends of basketball, coaches, teams, officials and players.

Donelda was a four year starter and star of the 1977 Fremd High School girls basketball team that took 3rd place in the first ever Illinois girls state basketball tournament where she was selected for the All-Tournament Team having scored the second highest number of points of all the players in the tournament.

Congratulations Big-D!

Drew and Aunt Donelda all dressed up and ready for the Bears game. Daddy, Will and Drew watching football...perhaps it was a good thing that the Bears weren't on TV here in Tulsa since they lost, bringing an end to their undefeated season.

Here is my first attempt at making a music video montage. The clips are all from today's soccer practice. The song is the 1971 hit Hocus Pocus by the Dutch rock group Focus which reached #9 on the charts in the US in 1973. Don't even think of criticising the musical selection if you're under 40.

Drew loves to play basketball on the lawn. Like a true big man, he has no need for dribbling. Nothing good ever comes from bringing the ball below your shoulders. And Drew knows, it's never too early to start practicing your free throws. Drew has the form down but it looks like he's thumbing the ball a little with his left hand. Fortunately, we have time to work on that.

Enough shooting from the outside, time to take it to the hoop. This layup turned into a slam dunk!

Drew had the greatest time this weekend playing baseball with Pa. Here he is hitting a line drive right into Pa's hands.

After a good hit, Drew will run the bases (tree-retaining wall-other tree) in order to get a home run. Pa tried his best, but just couldn't tag Drew out.

Every home run is capped off by Drew's his own patented "slide" into the t-ball home plate which he developed all by himself. Probably because he's watched major league players barrel through home plate no matter what was in the way, he does the same thing.

Writing this post was difficult until I realized it was about two different overlapping stories: one unimportant all about me and one, the opposite, very important about people thinking only of others. The meaningful story follows immediately, while the me-me-me part, can be seen by clicking on "continue reading" at the end.

There are some sick twisted people in this world, but you wouldn't think there would be people so sick and twisted that they would protest at the funerals of fallen soldiers, yelling slogans and holding signs like "Thank God for Dead Soldiers." While families are simply trying to say a final goodbye to their child, spouse or daddy, these protesters are in their face laughing, cheering and spewing their hatred. At least they were...until the Patriot Guard Riders stepped in.

The Patriot Guard Riders are a nation wide group of motorcycle riders with the mission of attending the funeral services of fallen American heroes as invited guests of the family where they show their respect for our fallen heroes and their families while shielding the mourning family and friends from interruptions created by protesters using strictly legal and non-violent means.

In conjunction with the 30th Anniversary of Rick Monday Saving the American Flag in center-field, Rick Monday's wife, Barbaralee Monday "Flag Babe," and her brother, James Casciari "Helmet Killer," are taking the actual flag that Rick Monday saved on a cross-country motorcycle tour while stopping to meet families which have been assisted by the Patriot Guard Riders. This is all being done to raise awareness and support for legislation to ban protesting near funerals. Some states have already passed laws, other states have pending legislation and there is also legislation pending in the U.S. Congress.

I met up with some Patriot Guard Riders early this afternoon in Claremore, Oklahoma. The riders there subsequently received word that the already delayed procession, then still in Missouri, was further behind schedule and would not be stopping in Claremore, but would still be stopping in Chelsea, Oklahoma, although much later in the evening. The Chelsea stop couldn't be bypassed because they were scheduled to meet with the family of a fallen soldier for whom the Patriot Guard Riders had previously attend the funeral. We all regrouped after two hours and headed for Chelsea.

After a little wait, the Patriot Guard Arrived. The first order of business was getting out the flag that Rick Monday had saved from being burned as a protest in center field of Dodger Stadium on April 25, 1976. It was a little faded and a little tattered but still beautiful. Barbaralee and James posed with the flag and the family of the fallen soldier. Next everyone was given the opportunity to sign a banner which will be displayed on July 4th at Dodger Stadium before being presented to Rick Monday. Barbaralee and James then signed posters commemorating the 30th Anniversary of Rick Monday's save. Barbaralee even called her husband Rick on her cell phone and he spoke to the family of the fallen solder.

It was readily apparent why the tour kept falling behind schedule. Everyone who wanted a picture either with the flag or with Barbaralee was given the opportunity. The same for autographs with personalized messages, hugs and thank-yous. Despite being woefully behind schedule, no one went away disappointed.

It should be noted that neither Mrs. Monday nor her brother, Mr. Casciari, are "riders" and that the tour has been incredibly exhausting on them both physically and emotionally. Despite this, they were very friendly and genuinely cared about all the people they met. They are passionate about getting legislation passed to protect families from protesters at funerals. They both proved themselves to be terrific people. Likewise, every one of the Patriot Guard Riders I met was friendly and helpful. It's people like these that make America great.

I've uploaded all of the photos I took to Flickr. Everyone is free to download and make copies as they wish.

I can't help but wonder how much an impressionable ten year-old Chicago Cubs fan who grew up to love the American flag was influenced by a certain center fielder who thirty years ago saved the American flag from being burned? From that boyhood moment to just two months ago seeing the heroic event for the first time to now holding in my hands the actual flag that Rick Monday saved. It was an amazing thing...then and now.

Barbaralee Monday signed a copy of the commemorative poster: "To the Danz Family - Thanks for being such terrific fans! Go Cubbies! God Bless." James Casciari signed: "To the Danz Family, True Fans! Cubs Rule!!" And, Barbaralee signed for Rick Monday: "Glad to see we have such wonderful fans."

After Rick Monday spoke to the family of the fallen soldier, they handed the phone back to Barbaralee who turned to me and asked if I wanted to talk to Rick Monday. The look on my face must have been something as some of the bikers around her cracked some pretty big grins. Yes, this ten year-old in a forty-year old's body would very much like to talk to Rick Monday. I told him about being a Cub fan and how much it meant to have one's childhood hero turn out to be such a great person and to be working for such a worthy cause. Monday said that it was simply wrong what they wanted to do the flag thirty years ago and it's wrong what the protesters want to do at funerals today. He also said that the true thanks go to the families of all the fallen soldiers.

So, if not for hate filled protesters and jihadist madmen, I would not have gotten to meet a great group of Americans, talk to my boyhood hero and touch a piece of history. What an odd cross-road of people and events.

It's t-ball time! We picked up a tee, bat and ball this week and now, everyday, Drew wants to: "Go outside, play t-ball?" Sure, he hits the tee once in a while but, just as often, he whacks one farther than you'd ever think a two-year-old could. You can just see in the last frame of the animation that he starts to take off running. On good hits he drops the bat, runs to a tree (first base), runs to the garden wall (second base), runs to something else (or skips third all together), then heads back to the tee where he flops down (slides) before declaring: "Home run!" Sometimes we run the bases together. Either way it's a great way to use up some two-year-old energy.

Almost a funniest home videos moment, as this one was coming right for the cameraman. We're already starting to hear, "Drew needs glove, this hand," as he holds up his left hand to emphasize the fact that it's missing a most needed accessory.

Friday night Uncle David came by to pitch some balls to Drew. With his Cubs hat turned backwards, this one was a swing and a miss. He clearly took his eye off the ball. But, click "continue reading" to see four hits caught on digital film.

Drew shows off his consistent swing and belts two home runs out of the park.

He definately kept his eye on the ball this time resulting in a blazing line drive down the middle.

The last contact of the day was only a base hit since Drew was batting for average and not power in his race for the backyard batting title.

My interest in Major League Baseball peaked when I was around 9 years old. While I probably couldn't name a dozen major leaguers today, I can still tell you the entire lineup for the 1974 and 1975 Chicago Cubs. One player in particular, centerfielder Rick Monday, will forever be in my memory. It was on this day, thirty years ago, during our nation's bicentennial, during an untelevised day game in Los Angeles against the Dodgers that two pieces of human debris took the field and attempted to burn the American flag...but they hadn't counted on Rick Monday.

In his own words:

In between the top and bottom of the fourth inning, I was just getting loose in the outfield, throwing the ball back and forth. Jose Cardenal was in left field and I was in center. I don't know if I heard the crowd first or saw the guys first, but two people ran on the field. After a number of years of playing, when someone comes on the field, you don't know what's going to happen. Is it because they had too much to drink? Is it because they're trying to win a bet? Is it because they don't like you or do they have a message that they're trying to present?

When these two guys ran on the field, something wasn't right. And it wasn't right from the standpoint that one of them had something cradled under his arm. It turned out to be an American flag. They came from the left-field corner, went past Cardenal to shallow left-center field.

That's when I saw the flag. They unfurled it as if it was a picnic blanket. They knelt beside it, not to pay homage but to harm it as one of the guys was pulling out of his pocket somewhere a big can of lighter fluid. He began to douse it.

What they were doing was wrong then, in 1976. In my mind, it's wrong now, in 2006. It's the way I was raised. My thoughts were reinforced with my six years in the Marine Corp Reserves. It was also reinforced by a lot of friends who lost their lives protecting the rights and freedoms that flag represented.

So I started to run after them. To this day, I couldn't tell you what was running through my mind except I was mad, I was angry and it was wrong for a lot of reasons.

Then the wind blew the first match out. There was hardly ever any wind at Dodger Stadium. The second match was lit, just as I got there. I did think that if I could bowl them over, they can't do what they're trying to do.

I saw them go and put the match down to the flag. It's soaked in lighter fluid at this time. Well, they can't light it if they don't have it. So I just scooped it up.

After the guys left, there was a buzz in the stands, people being aghast with what had taken place. Without being prompted, and I don't know where it started, but people began to sing 'God Bless America.' When I reflect back upon it now, I still get goose bumps.

He's not the only one who still gets goose bumps. As if being the centerfielder for Chicago Cubs didn't make someone a big enough hero to a ten year old suburban Chicago kid...saving the American flag from two asshats forever put Monday in a whole new category and is one of the 100 Classic Moments in the History of the Game as determined by the Baseball Hall of Fame.

That same season, Monday hit a career-high 32 non-steroid home runs before the Cubs traded him and reliever Mike Garman to the Dodgers for outfielder Bill Buckner and shortstop Ivan DeJesus. Monday went on to win three pennants with the Dodgers, one as the result of Monday's ninth-inning home run in the deciding game of the 1981 NL Championship Series at Montreal before beating the Yankees in the World Series. Monday is also famous for being the first player chosen in the very first draft in 1965 after leading Arizona State to a College World Series title. He was a two-time All-Star with impressive numbers during his 19 major league seasons. But, Rick Monday will always be most remembered for what he did one Sunday afternoon thirty years ago today.

The famous photograph, taken by James Rourke, was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize but, of course didn't win because it wasn't at all anti-American...maybe if they had succeeded in burning the flag. A Super8 16mm video of the incident taken by a fan surfaced in 1984, but hasn't made it to the internet yet [see update below]. The whole article along with more photographs by Rourke and the play-by-play call made by Vin Scully on the radio that day is available at MLB.com.

[Update I:] In honor of the 30th anniversary of Rick Monday saving the American flag, the Los Angeles Dodgers recognized Rick Monday on Sunday, April 23 with a video tribute. If this link ever stops working, please let me know. I have a downloadable version but didn't want to post it for bandwidth purposes. However, if you click on the picture you can see just the portion of the video where Rick Monday saves the American Flag.

[Update II:] See Patriot Guard Riders Bring Rick Monday Flag Through Oklahoma for more information and pictures of the actual flag that Rick Monday saved!

[Update III:]

To all those who have been looking for a print of the photo of Rick Monday saving the American flag in center field, you can now order one from AP through Pictopia.

It's only a matter of time before a movie is made about Jason McElwain a Greece Athena High School senior in Rochester, New York. On February 15, Jason, the team manager, was given the privilege of suiting up for the varsity game as payback for his years of service taking care of sweaty uniforms, getting water for the players and cheering on the team. There's nothing unusual in this sort of gesture...until the magic happened!

Oh, by the way, Jason was born with autism.

If you are anything like me, you'll enjoy watching more videos about Jason McElwain.

Thanks Dave.

In one of the most unforgettable moments of the 2006 Winter Games, Lindsey Jacobellis, while way out in front, thought she had her race won, got cocky and hotdogged (snowboated/showboarded) a jump and kissed the gold medal goodbye. Notice I said, "the" gold medal and not "her" gold medal. This is because she was not competing just for herself in the X-Games or the Nationals, this is the Olympic Games where you also compete on behalf of your nation. She lost "our" gold medal.

There are different ways to grab a snowboard in the air to help stabilize yourself...some are safe and appropriate for racing and some are fancy and more risky and appropriate for competitions which judge on style or when you're just horsing around with your friends.

Here is Lindsey Jacobellis: (1) using the "Indy," in which she gets in a tuck and grabs the front-side edge between her feet; (2) using the "Truck Driver," which entails grabbing both edges near the front foot; and (3) performing the "Backside Method Grab," in which she grabs the backside edge and swings the board out sideways.

Now, I'm well aware I'm taking this way harder than I should but that's because I so abhor showing off. If a game is about points, then that's all its about. You don't get extra credit for style. The world's most amazing miss can't compare to the most dull and routine make. If it's a race, then time and/or place is all that matters. [And, no, I don't understand ski jumping which measures distance and awards style points. I say chuck the judges, get out the lasers and give the gold to the flopping spaz who can jump the farthest.]

The Times of Trenton columnist Steve Politi said it well:

The real sad part? She doesn't get it. Even hours after her race, as she faced an uncomfortable grilling on a teleconference about her ill-timed showboating, she didn't see a problem with what she had done.

"I was having fun," the 20-year-old from Stratton, Vt., said. "Snowboarding is fun. I was feeling great that I was ahead. I wanted to share with the crowd my enthusiasm. I messed up, and oh well, it happens."

Oh well?

It happens?

This is what happened: Jacobellis embarrassed herself on the biggest stage in sports, and in doing so, confirmed for many the perception that American teenagers who belong to our X Games culture care more about highlight DVDs and video-game moves than winning and losing.
***
Later in the teleconference, she admitted she was going for flash, but didn't understand why it was a big deal. "It's just a race," she said. For some, the Olympics are a dream that burns as bright as that massive torch.

If this is just a race, it shouldn't be in the Games. If Jacobellis feels that way, neither should she.

Attacking the snowboarder culture, Chicago Tribune columnist Rick Morrissey spoke for the 40-and-over crowd:

It probably would be a good thing if somebody explained to the snowboarders that once they decided to sit at the adults' table, they made the tacit agreement to play to win. They made the decision to act like Olympians, which now means to act professional.

I wonder how much of this is the result of our schools and children's leagues no longer keeping score or having winners and losers? Competitors in the most important competition in the world not really caring about winning would have previously been unimaginable to me. I'm also curious to see if Jacobellis' sponsors, Visa, Dunkin' Donuts and Kelloggs, want to associate their products with putting style before substance?

I wish two things for Lindsey Jacobellis, a change in attitude and great success in the future including gold in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, in 2010.

I've previously noted that, "I didn't watch a single game of the [NBA] playoffs," last season. After what happened this week, I now have no intention of watching any games this whole season.

On Wednesday, the Los Angeles Lakers' accused rapist Kobe Bryant was suspended for two games without pay for throwing an intentional elbow to the throat of Memphis Grizzlies guard Mike Miller. Bryant explained the reason for his actions in an ESPN Sports Center interview:

"If somebody comes down the lane, you have to hit them...that's just basic NBA basketball."

Well Kobe, that may be basic NBA basketball, but it has no place in the game of basketball that I know and love. Here's an idea, how about playing a little defense and moving your feet or, heaven forbid, taking a charge instead of committing assault and battery on a player who's gotten the best of you. The NBA with the acquiescence of its owners and commissioner, David Stern, have allowed the game to become such a perversion that I can't stand to watch it anymore.

And, in case there was any doubt about whether Kobe had any remorse, he stated in an interview:

"I wish I could go back in time and take that foul back knowing what I know now, getting two games for it," he said. "No way in my mind did I think it was going to be a suspension or something like that. No way."

Take it back how?

"I'd just hit him a little softer," Bryant said.

Just like a small child, he has no concept that what he did was wrong and he'd only consider altering his behavior slightly to avoid the punishment. If I were the Commissioner, I'd have every player sign a statement that hitting someone is never a part of NBA basketball. Anyone who doesn't sign, doesn't play. Anyone violating the agreement or saying to any person, any media or anyone anywhere, anything to the contrary doesn't play.

David Stern, it's time to take the thugs out of the NBA. Until you do, it's college ball only for me.

I hope you've been following the career of Lance Armstrong, because in your lifetime there will never be another athlete...another person...like him. When you are old and passing down stories to your grandchildren, other than telling them embarrassing things about their parents, or what you were doing on 9/11, there won't be a better or more powerful story to share with them than that of Lance Armstrong.

In 1993 and 1995, Armstrong won stages in the Tour de France with Team Motorola. He won the Tour DuPont, the premier U.S. Cycling event, in 1995 and 1996. Armstrong's early career peaked in 1996 when he was ranked the number one cyclist in the world. But, later in 1996 Armstrong abandoned the Tour de France and had a disappointing Olympic Games. While Armstrong was physically talented in his early career, he didn't yet possess the mental discipline and dedication necessary to consistently compete at the highest levels of cycling.

Then on October 2, 1996, Armstrong was diagnosed with testicular cancer that had metastasized (not a good thing), spreading to his lungs and brain. He was told he had a 50 percent chance of survival. After his recovery, one of his doctors said Armstrong's chances were maybe as low as three percent but that he was told 50 percent in order to give him hope. Treatment included sawing two silver dollar size holes in his scull to remove brain lesions as well as removal of a testical. Standard chemotherapy would have ended Armstrong's career as one side effect is reduced lung function. So Armstrong opted to undertake a more severe radiation regiment which was less likely to damage his lungs but which resulted in burns on the inside of his skin.

Despite the odds, Armstrong survived his battle with cancer and, with a new found dedication, he won three races in 1998 and the Tour de France in 1999. If the story ended here it would be the greatest comeback story of all time.

But, Armstrong went on to win seven Tour de France races an impossible feat even for someone healthy their whole life. In the 102 year history of the Tour de France (only 92 races due to war), four other riders have won five times: Belgian Eddy "the Cannibal" Merckx, Spaniard Miguel Indurain and Frenchmen Bernard Hinault and Jacques Anquetil. No one has won six, let alone seven, other than Lance Armstrong. (The list of five time winners might have included a German by the name of Jan Ullrich if not for the American from Texas.)

Cycling is very much a team sport and thanks and accolades unquestionably go to Armstrong's teammates: José Azevedo, Manuel Beltran, George Hincapie, Gonzalez Benjamin Noval, Pavel Padrnos, Yaroslav Popovych, José Luis Rubiera, and Paolo Savoldelli.

Thank you Lance for seven amazing years and for one heck of a story to someday share with the grandkids.

The University of Illinois Fighting Illini men's basketball team just won a close one in overtime over Arizona. Here is the graphic I was going to post (which may still appear in the near future given how they played tonight) when the Illini were down 15 with four minutes to play. Illinois now plays Louiville next Saturday in the Final Four tournament, and then hopefully one more game Monday, April 4th.

Drew, shown here with Chief Illiniwek, and daddy are bummed right now as the Illini lost to Ohio State today on their last regular season game of the year which put an end to their perfect undefeated season.

Oh well, better now than during the big dance.

Apparently there's been no major league hockey this year...who knew? I mean after all we're talking about an activity where its own commissioner admitted that it was not a legitimate sport. OK, so he didn't say it in so many words, but follow my logic for a moment. The NHL commissioner once said that fighting could not be removed from the game. More specifically, he said that hockey fans wouldn't support the sport without the fighting.

This is either an admission that the sport is insufficiently entertaining by itself or that its fans are just too low-brow to appreciate it--take your pick. Assuming the commissioner wasn't insulting his customers, the only remaining option is that professional hockey is a joke. If you're like me, though, and think hockey (without fighting) is a fine sport, then the commissioner was pointing out the imbecilic nature of pugilism-loving professional hockey fans.

There is no fighting in college or Olympic hockey therefore, it follows, there is no need for it in the professional leagues. Fighting detracts from the sport and provides a venue for less skilled players who are simply there to fulfill the role of a thug--never a good thing for any sport. While I'm no pantywaist liberal, I'd rather someday take my son to an actual boxing match and a college level hockey game than anything the NHL provides as a combination of the two. I like to think I have all the answers but, "Dad, why are they letting them fight?" during a major league sport is one question to which I have no answer.

Can you name another sport in which fighting is not allowed at the college or Olympic level but is allowed at the professional level? Click on "Continue reading" for the answer.

Answer: Wrestling. And, as long as fighting is allowed in professional hockey, it'll be just as big a joke as professional wrestling.

Just to be clear, I like hockey. Fighting, however, serves no purpose other than to detract from the sport and the skill and athleticism of the competitors. How silly would it be if fighting were allowed in baseball, basketball, football or soccer? That's how ridiculous it seems to me to allow it in hockey.

This year celebrates 100 years of Fighting Illini basketball and the University of Illinois' (Champaign-Urbana) current 17-0 men's basketball record ties both the best start to a season and the longest single-season winning streak in school history. The other 17 game winning streak, also at the start of a season, was in 1988-89, my last year at U of I. Only the 25-game winning streak that included parts of three seasons from Feb. 21, 1914, through Feb. 9, 1916, bests the Illini's current string of victories.

The 1988-89 team, coached by the all class act Lou Henson, stared: Kendall Gill, Steven Bardo, Nick Anderson, Kenny Battle, Lowell Hamilton, and Marcus Liberty. During the regular season Illinois beat Michigan twice but in the semi-finals of the big dance lost to Michigan when Lowell Hamilton failed to box his man out on the final shot of the game and Michigan got an easy put-back to keep the game from going into overtime. Michigan went on to have an easy win despite a close score over Seton Hall for the national championship. But, at least I'm not still bitter.../said with teeth clinched.

Drew is a little uncertain what to think about my new hat but he seems content to wear his Illini cap sent to him by an alumni friend of mine.

I and an estimated 7,500 other people participated in the Chicago Triathlon this past weekend. It's billed as the world's largest triathlon, although the London Triathlon might have been a little bigger this year. The sponsor of the triathlon this year was Accenture. Previous sponsors have been Mrs. T's and originally Bud Light.

My training this year consisted of...well...nothing. Due to a knee injury, work and Mini-Me, my training consisted almost entirely of getting a new bike frame. But, I wasn't about to let that stop me from my annual reminder that I am, in fact, getting older and slower each year. The night before the race event, I went to see a friend's band, Conundrum, play and feasted on well-known pre-race foods including spinach-artichoke dip, potato skins, quesadillas, wings, fried cheese, and onion rings followed by a cheeseburger and fries.

After the pre-race festivities, I went home and assembled my bike which I had had shipped to my parent's house. Shipping the bike is a thousand times easier than flying with it post 9/11. It's just a little more expensive since the airlines charge an additional fee to transport bikes but it's much more convenient not to have to repack it in the airport and wait for it to be specially processed by the baggage handlers.

Anyway, I finally got to bed around 1:30 a.m. which gave me a good two hours of sleep before I had to get up since my ride from the suburbs to downtown Chicago was to arrive at 4:00 a.m. All this is necessary because the transition area where you have to store everything you need for the bike and run portions closes at 6:00 a.m. and the first wave of swimmers goes out at 6:15 a.m. I was in wave 39 which didn't leave until 9:08 a.m. which left me with over three hours to kill before I would start the swim.

And what a swim it was with overcast skies, air temperatures which never climbed out of the 60s, water temperature of 64 degrees and 15 mph winds creating little choppy waves...oh joy, oh joy! Thank God, I finally bought a wetsuit before last year's race. Best triathlon related purchase ever. When I first competed in 1987 only a few people had wetsuits. Now only a few people don't have them. I'll never swim in Lake Michigan again without one! Next to air temperature, it's my understanding that the water temperature near the shore is primarily affected by direction of the wind. If it's blowing toward the shore, warm surface water is pulled in raising the temperature. But, if it's blowing out away from the shore, cold bottom water is pulled up lowering the temperature.

This year wasn't the coldest swim ever though. One year the authorities (non-race organizers) stepped in and cancelled the swim due to the water temperature. There was a lot of complaining and a compromise was reached between the race organizers and the authorities which allowed the professional racers to swim the regular distance while everyone else swam about a hundred yards so as to at least maintain the facade of a triathlon rather than a duathlon. The water was so cold, I remember hyperventilating the whole way and never being able to put my head down to actually swim a single stroke.

The swim is 1.5 kilometers (0.93 miles) long and starts in groups or waves consisting of approximately 150 people which allows for plenty of body contact in the water as everyone sorts themselves out. Each wave has a different color swim cap and start anywhere from three to five minutes apart. As the result of there being such a broad spectrum of abilities, by the end of the swim the water is a rainbow of different color caps.

The absolute worst thing about the Chicago Triathlon in the past few years has been the layout of the swim transition. There is almost a quarter to half mile run from the end of the swim to the transition area. The distance is so long that the race organizers have created a little-publicized mini-transition area right at the swim exit where quite a few people take the time to stop and put on running shoes rather than transverse the slippery pebble covered route barefoot, although, this year they must have swept the route because the pebbles weren't too bad. Still, running on cement with water softened bare feet is not comfortable. The joke is that the race is really a quadathlon (swim-run-bike-run) because of this.

This year's 40 kilometer (24.8 mile) bike leg was a little windy and a little cool but not too bad in either respect. There was one bad accident that I know of which I came upon when a rider was being loaded into an ambulance and two other riders were being attended to who I think caught a second ambulance. When there is a dark spot on a road, an automobile driver knows (or should know) that there is likely a bump there. The dark spot having been caused by the increase in oil drops from underneath vehicles that fall due to the force of the bump. The more severe the bump, the larger and darker the oil stain on the road. When there are enough riders, cycling has a corollary, in which water bottles replace oil drops. A bad enough bump in the road will tend to dislodge poorly secured water bottles. With enough riders a really bad bump is easily marked. This accident took place at a spot (the only spot along the bike route) where there was a large number of water bottles scattered around. Right where the accident occurred, there was a two foot wide, near bottomless, 6-8 inch gap in the road seam. I imagine a rider attempted to avoid it at the last second and swerved into the other riders (just my guess).

Finally, the last leg of the triathlon was the 10 kilometer (6.2 miles) run jog slow jog. It was especially fun given my utter lack of training. The weather did clear up a little and the sun even peaked out briefly during the run. It culminated in my worst finish ever, but it was still a great way to spend a Sunday morning.

Thank you Harry for driving (I always fall asleep on the ride home) and helping with logistics. I couldn't do it without you. I promise to be there for you when you finally get around to doing the Sprint Triathlon.

To be continued Monday...

Lance Armstrong today became not only cycling's greatest rider ever but one of the greatest athletes of all time. He is the first to win six grueling Tour de France races, cycling's equivalent of the World Series, the Super Bowl and the Indy 500 all wrapped up into one. And, this after having been given less than a 50% chance of living in 1996 when he was diagnosed with advanced testicular cancer which had spread to his lungs and brain.

In the 101 year history of the Tour de France (but only 91 races due to war), four other riders have won five times: Belgian Eddy "the Cannibal" Merckx, Spaniard Miguel Indurain and Frenchmen Bernard Hinault and Jacques Anquetil.

The 2004 Tour de France covered more than 2100 miles comprised of 20 stages including 11 flat stages, 6 mountain stages, 2 individual time-trial stages, and 1 team time-trial stage. The layout of the race this year was admittedly designed to make it as difficult as possible for Lance to win. However, the race officials couldn't overcome the fact that Lance has no weaknesses as he can hold his own against anyone in the flats, he can out climb everyone in the mountains and he can blow everyone away in the time trials.

Lance's victories are in no small part due to his tremendous teammates who ride for the U.S. Postal team known as the Blue Train which this year included: Portuguese Jos頁zevedo, Spaniard Manuel Beltran, Russian Viatceslav Ekimov, American George Hincapie, American Floyd Landis, Spaniard Gonzalez Noval Benjamin, Czechoslovakian Pavel Padrnos and Spaniard Jos頌uis Rubiera.

Mike Krzyzewski, Duke University basketball coach in Durham, North Carolina, today turned down a contract to coach the Los Angeles Lakers for $40 million over five years in order to stay with the school he loves and which loves him.

In twenty-four years of coaching at Duke, Krzyzewski has a 621-181 record, leading the Blue Devils to championships in 1991, 1992 and 2001, with 10 Final Four appearances, eight Atlantic Coast Conference tournament championships, 10 conference regular-season titles and No. 1 ranking in 12 seasons, including each of the last seven. Perhaps more importantly, during Krzyzewskis time with the Blue Devils, all but two Duke players that played four seasons have graduated.

Coach K is a classy guy who has consistently produced quality players with character. Just a dozen miles down the road in Chapel Hill, there is another school and coach with equal class.

The University of North Carolina Tar Heels are now coached Roy Williams formerly coach of the Kansas Jayhawks. (Dean Smith was coach of North Carolina for 36 years from 1961-97.) Earlier this year, former Tar Heel coach, Matt Doherty, had signed the all-time leading points scorer in North Carolina high school history, JamesOn Curry, to join the team in the fall of 2004.

But, in April of 2004, Curry pleaded guilty to six felony drug charges for possession, intent to sell, and distribution of marijuana to an undercover officer at his high school resulting in 36 months of probation, 200 hours of community service and various fines. In other words, Curry was dealing drugs to children. North Carolina coach Roy Williams immediately rescinded Curry's scholarship.

Curry's attorney, Dawn Allen, said "He never had problems before at school." Which to be true, you would have to believe a perfectly normal well-behaved law-abiding high school student suddenly, out of nowhere, starts selling marijuana one day to other children. No, the truth of the matter is obviously that this was merely the first time that Curry was caught.

The story should continue on with Curry going in shame to some unknown junior college desperate for a talented player regardless of his background where, if he kept his nose clean, might be allowed a chance to play in Division I again in two years. The message would be sent to hopeful players everywhere, stay away from drugs or else there will be consequences and Curry would still have the opportunity to play ball and show that his felony drug convictions were an anomaly.

Unfortunately, life doesn't always make that much sense. Instead, after North Carolina yanked Curry's scholarship, the ever opportunistic Oklahoma State coached by Eddie Sutton jumped on Curry's availability and signed him up to play for the OSU Cowboys. While Sutton, of course, spun the signing of Curry as an opportunity to provide Curry with a more nurturing environment far away from his troubles in North Carolina, blah, blah, blah. In reality, it was a clear grab of a talented player without regard to the impact on that player or the message it sends to kids in similar situations around the country. It was also consistent with Sutton's own checkered past in which he previously coached at Kentucky, but was forced to resign after being placed on probation for recruiting violations, and was then offered the coaching position at OSU.

All the victories in the world will never put Oklahoma State and Eddie Sutton in the same ranks as Duke and North Carolina. I hope Curry turns his life around, but I also hope OSU and Sutton are not rewarded for their classless actions.

Lance Armstrong started his record setting attempt at a sixth straight Tour de France victory on Saturday. Accordingly, I'll be a little less productive over the next two weeks. Go Lance!