Connealy Quips

Idle Hands and Baseball Cards

2011-04-19T18:29:00.000-07:00

Idle Hands and Baseball Cards.

I will always cherish the summers of 1984 through 1988. These summers were the sweet spot of my youth. My brother Bobby was old enough to socialize with, yet utterly controllable. I was one of the better players on my baseball team. I didn't care about girls yet. My sister had her driver's license. My only real job was mowing the lawn, and even that seemed cool because I considered our family's side yard my baseball park. ( In order to carve out base paths, I set the Toro's blade's very low. I took a pretty good beating once, but saw that as a risk anyone with balls took) And Bobby and I also adopted our neighbor, Wes, as a sibling.

When we couldn't get a game of pick up baseball together, I would ride my bike to the Circle K convenient store. I would always get a pop and a little candy, but was careful to save as much money as possible for baseball cards.

We loved baseball cards. Cards became our neighborhood's currency. They really worked like money. It didn't matter how big of a twat Andy Mangum was, if he had a Ken Griffey Rated Rookie on him, he was the big swinging dick that day. We loved ripping each other off. We studied price guides and worked hard to know each other's weaknesses. Example: Wes seems to have an emotional connection to Tom Gordon that clearly makes him over values his card's true value....I will use this knowledge in order to steal that Mattingly rookie from him one day. ( I did too)

Many of the kids on our block had money to burn, but their parents wouldn't let them ride their bikes more than a mile away. We lived in a developing suburb, surrounded by stucco castles and tiny trees. Ah, but not a single convenient store within in rich white kid's walking distance....old school man.

Wes had, what I will call, "disposable fake-allowance income". He also had a cool mom willing to drive him to baseball card distributors. Card distributors, to his credit, he found himself. (Pretty savvy for a 9 year old kid pre internet)

That's when Wes started buying in bulk. He changed the game. Bobby and I quickly got our mom on board by having Wes's Mom tell her it was ok. We found a couple more baseball card "dealers" ( stoners selling cards from their single mother's garages) and stocked up.

We bought sets and boxes of cards and started selling them to the other kids in the neighborhood. We openly explained that there was a 25 cent mark up per pack, and everyone seemed cool with the arrangement.

Everyone but Wes and I. We weren't making enough money for our time. Not only did we coordinate the logistics and shipping, but our creative fun machine was feeding all of this energy to the entire neighborhood and for a measly 25 cent per pack profit!? On top of that, it seemed like every pack of cards we kept and opened for ourselves was full of no name players. It seemed like Bobby, Wes and I never had a solid rookie card or bona fide stud in our packs, but the Mangum brothers seemed to snake a Sandy Allomar Jr card every god damn time. It didn't seem fair that the tards held the cards and the providers just broke even. ( our Dads were Republicans) You see, one good card in a pack could be the value of 4-5 total packs of cards. If we kept losing out due to chance on good cards, it would hurt business. It would hurt the neighborhood. If we couldn't afford to keep buying all of these cards, then there there was no longer a local supplier...and then what the hell are you left with? I'll tell you...throwing tennis balls at construction workers and beating up the rather large headed Jessie French...nothing sustainable...nothing real.

We were bitching about this scenario one afternoon in our basement, getting all pissed off. We opened a carton of cards and decide which packs we would hypothetically sell, and which ones we would keep for ourselves. Low and behold, the cards we were going to sell were filled with winners worth at least a buck each, and the packs we were to keep were for shit. Right at that moment, Wes and I decided to to find a way to re-seal opened packs of cards...and at that same moment, Bobby decided to keep working over his pudding pop and agree with our plan.

It was so easy. Six tiny dots of Elmer's Glue had the exact same pull and consistency as an originally sealed pack. We decided it was fair as long as long as we collected enough well priced cards to cover our costs. Then we would just sell the remaining packs, unmolested.

It worked real well for about 2 weeks, but then we got greedy. Nobody had bitched, so we started resealing all of the cards. We began to re-seal every day. We also got cocky. Not only would we sell our cards, but we had continued to trade with the other kids. We were like rich mobsters with huge stacks of chips at the table...and it quickly wore thin.

One afternoon, nobody bought a single pack. We threw a few freebies out, but there was little impact

Back in the basement, we discussed our plight. Bobby took a break from his microwave chicken sandwich. Certainly echoing his own soul's cries he chimed, " If they don't get to win some of the time..they wont want to keep playing". I had to admit, the little homo was on to something this time.

We started marking small green dots on the corners of packs that contained "hot" cards. That way we could reach for one if they were on a bad steak, keep them hooked, give them hope. It really, really worked.

We flew through packs of cards. My mom was worried about the large quantities we bought from the card dealers and asked me why I didn't just ride my bike to the store anymore. Then my Dad started asking questions. I then knew the heat was too high and I best lay low to avoid any hard time. Wes? He was on fire. His Mom didn't give a shit. She was just happy he wasn't being a prick around the house and no longer glued to his computer.

Wes didn't handle his new found purchasing power well. He went rouge. He got sloppy. Wes began re-sealing on his own.

At my house, we had a lookout stationed, a small assembly line, and a mom so unsuspicious ,that we may have been able to get her to help without raising any red flags. His house held none of these built in safe guards. Reckless I tell you.

Of course he got caught. Thank God his mom was so nice. She didn't want to sadden my mom or enrage my Dad, so she didn't call our house. But it was made very clear that all of our card operations were to be terminated immediately.

Four days later, I am pretty sure my brother beat the shit out of Jessie French.

Blood Sport, Blood Money

2010-09-28T14:39:00.001-07:00

The NFL's plan to extend the regular season from 16 to 18 games borders on the barbaric. Quarterbacks excluded , there are no limits to the physical toll they collect from their players. The NFL greedily and cruelly extracts from the bodies and minds of all of their other players without pause. They do this even though they have more information than ever about what happens to their players after their playing careers are done. It's ugly.

According to the St. Petersburg Times, the average NFL player lives for only 55 years ( 52 if you are a lineman). The average American male lives 72-73. Think about that. Would you sign up for that? You forfeit 18-20 years on earth, but you increase your salary 10 fold for a period of 2-10 years, enjoy thrills, excitement, power, and celebrity. Would you make that deal with the devil?

Before you answer, consider that you will likely deal with endless pain the remainder of your shortened life. Your body will hurt every single day. You will likely pop prescription strength pain killers like they are advill. If the traumatic blows to the head have not already left permanent damage to your brain ( not likely) your mind will likely never be clear and clean because of all of the medicine you require to function. You will be more likely than the average joe to develop a dependence on alcohol.

The connections and brief fame you collected by playing football are significant. These acquisitions most certainly could benefit you post football, if you have the desire and skill sets to put them to work in business. But what if you don't have those skills? Maybe the only book you have read sense you were forced to go to classes for a couple years in college is your play book. What if you don't have a degree and possess limited computer skills, no business vocabulary, and have no mentor to lead you?

I know that nobody forces these guys to play football. Most of these guys wouldn't be small business owners, lawyers or doctors if it wasn't for the NFL. Many would never have seen college and most would never find a financial opportunity even close to the on offered by the league. Also, even though I doubt most players spend much time thinking about these post career hard truths, they are aware of the reality. It's brutal, but they choose to participate.

But does the NFL really have to make it worse? Shouldn't they be making it better? Again, they have never had more information about what happens to their players. Concussions are as bad as ever, players are stronger and faster now than at any other time. How about some new equipment to protect their heads? How about an improved pension plan for retired players that includes more money, a lifetime of free physical therapy, as well as emotional and career counseling? How about shortening the ridiculous pre season? Maybe until more progress is made regarding player's health and well being, they should, gasp, SHORTEN the regular season. The league makes billions of dollars and these sacrifices and expenses wouldn't compromise the league for it's fans, so it's the right and moral path right?

Nah, they don't want to wait on all of that stuff. They want to expose their players to 13% more violence and risk.

Where is the outrage? I have seen a few editions of HBO's Real Sports that did a great job articulating the struggles these players go through, but that's pretty much about it. That is fucked up. ESPN, the world wide leader of sports, is, once again, a huge and horrible villain. There job is to cover sports. Football is our most popular sport. Football's players are passing away much younger than the rest of us. This is a story, a huge story, but an unprofitable story. Being they have a virtual monopoly, they get to dictate what's important to America regarding sports.

More games to cover means more advertising dollars and it is as simple as that. Nothing else matters.

I knew football was an amazing money maker, but it really hit home after this summer's conference realignment drama played itself out. Conferences in the NCAA almost ceased to exist, based solely on football dollars. When this eventually happens, it will not only have a large, negative impact on student athletes of other sports, but on all students of non private schools that don't rake in football dollars. Having conferences that share money in a way that doesn't allow football to drive so much of the educational power and over all opportunity is a good thing. Call me a lefty pinko.

The horrible post career lives of football players is not unlike the the laborers who suffered by exposure to asbestos. Our public universities should not be so strongly controlled by their ability to construct a strong football program. If Congress had the time to investigate and humiliate baseball players who did steroids, they most certainly should make some time for this.

Getting married real soon....it's nice

2010-09-02T14:11:00.000-07:00

People are very, very nice to you when they hear you are engaged. It feels like everyone is rooting for you. It's nice.

Katelin and I are getting married in exactly one week. At this point, I'm pretty much slipping it into every conversation I have. Even my last two work emails referenced it. One of these emails was to a very grizzled distributor of ours and his response was down right flowery. This ball buster wrote a nice story to me about his wife and even used exclamation points. (!!!!!)

I didn't anticipate this behavior from myself. There was a good 6 week period that I felt like being engaged was just a real long Valentine's Day. Not for the guy, filled with expectations and emotional bear traps, and expensive. The best you could do was not disappoint. That IS Valentines Day for all straight men. If you are a "straight guy" reading this and disagree, I have news for you. You bought those roller blades for a reason. You are gay.

But now, it's like I want to let everyone in on this real cool secret. It's nice.

I know there are likely a couple of things behind this emotional community fan section.

I know some of this is innate. We are animals and are hard wired to pro create. Our collective instincts encourage us to encourage others to mate and make. But it's not just that.

Here's a truth. Most people are very good people. Most people wish their fellow man the things they also strive for in life. Health and Happiness. The bitter minority excluded, people root for others to find a loved one, enjoy themselves, and make happy families. Ask any pregnant woman how many people look into her eyes and smile when she is showing. Living in an aggressive, busy city, I forget these facts all too often. I'm gratefull for the reminders. It's nice.

I have always known and truly believed these facts about people...about life, but have struggled to live and breath them. A little over a year ago, all of that changed, because of Katelin. When you find someone that allows you to see the beautiful truth inside of everyone, including yourself, my advice is to marry that person as quickly as they will allow. I am marrying Katelin in one week. It's so, so, so nice.

Hit the Road Zack...

2010-08-10T08:21:00.001-07:00

The Royals must trade Zack Greinke. There is no grey area. They won't during this season, a mistake, but they need to do the intelligent, brave thing, and move him as soon as they can.

You know Zack Greinke's story.

Drafted 6th overall by the Royals in 2002, his 2004 rookie year was very promising. He slumped badly in 2005's sophomore campaign and then had to leave Spring Training in 2006, in order to deal with depression and anxiety disorders.

Zack was back in 2007, and he split rotation and bullpen duties. 2008 was a very solid year for him, and 2009 was one of the best performances seen by a pitcher not named Pedro Martinez in years. He posted eye popping, efficienct stats and won the Cy Young Award. Truly an inspirational and amazing story, Zack is the greatest Royal in a long time. ( My favorite sense Dave Cone)

But Zack needs to go, and this July he articulated exactly why.

The Royals, finally, seem truly committed to a legit youth movement. Zack was bitching to the KC Star about how he doubts the young hitters coming up will make them truly competetive until 2013 ( one year after his contract expires) Well, Zack is right on the money. Perhaps Zack should get a contract as the assistant General Manager, because, apparantly, they need one.

Dayton Moore, the Royals GM, has, by all reports, done a great job strengthening the Royals scouting department and minor leagues.

Dayton Moore, the Royals GM, by my account, has been a horrible major league GM.

The jury was still out prior to this, the 2010 season. But now I am worried. Coming into this season, he retained his disasterous managerial hire, Trey Hillman, and proceeded to pepper this squad with stale, below average, free agent flakes that only served to make this a 95 loss team... instead of a 105 loss team. This chocolate covered turd of a team kept the Royals from truly learning what they do and don't have talent wise.

Zack has been great, but he is not the future. Even IF he would sign an extension post 2012, the Royals shouldn't do it.

Greinke will be 29 after the 2012 season, and has been, at best, an inconsistent major leaguer. Don't allow his one amazing 2009 season to overwhelm you. Look at the three year trend.

To be fair, just look at his post anxiety years. 2008, 2009, 2010. Sense he got his emotional problems in check, he has been very solid, bordering on an All Star.

YOUNG CRAZY ZACK

2004 8 11 .421 3.97
2005 5 17 .227 5.80
2006 1 0 1.000 4.26
2007 7 7 .500 3.69

HEALTHY MATURE ZACK

2008 13 10 .565 3.47 ( 202 Innings pitched with a 1,275 WHIP)
2009 16 8 .667 2.16 ( 229 Innings pitched with a 1.073 WHIP)
2010 7 11 .389 4.14 ( well on his way to over 200 Innings and a WHIP of 1.211)

HMZ can't be punished for his win-loss record. His innings pitched and WHIP ( walks plus hits divided by innings pitched) have been beyond respectable. He would be a 15-20 game winner over these 3 years if he played on a better team. He would likely be a 15-17 game winner over the next two seasons if he played for a team not in the middle of a youth movement.

But at 29, with 700 more innings on his arm, there is no reason AT ALL, to expect a post steroid era pitcher, who still has mood swings, to be a 15-20 game winner for any team.

I know the reduction in steroid use has greatly benefited pitchers. I love it. I like all of the no hitters and love that 40 home runs is something special again. But pitchers used the drugs too, and it clearly made things easier on all guys in their 30's. I truly doubt Zack uses or ever used PED's, but take personality out of this and look at trends.

If the Royals are lucky, he has Ben Sheet's potential. Baseball reference agrees

http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/sheetbe01.shtml

GM's need to scout free agents more like they did in the early 80's, because 30 is the new 40. Greinke's best season's will be behind him once this team is poised to be good. His trade value is very high and there is no reason to think the Royals couldn't get a couple solid, young major leaguers for him. Maybe they could even mix in a great shortstop prospect. ( The Royals so desperately need a shortstop...I think their last good one was Greg Gagne...long time man)

If Moore fails to get value for Greinke, so the Royals can potentially flirt with .500 in 2012, only to lose him via free agency the following season, he has to be fired. This is it. This is his test. Is he just a great organization man, or does he have the guts and insight to be a Major League General Manager?

Quick Hip Checks July 2010

2010-07-16T11:26:00.000-07:00

George Steinbrenner:

Did ESPN kill George Steinbrenner? As we know, ESPN has to have one to three stories that takes up 80% of their air time. They are most comfortable when it is just one story. The Post Lebron James Decision hangover must have hit them like a ton of bricks, but it's still no excuse to kill the Boss during All Star Week. I know that enlightening viewers on the surprising seasons the Reds and Padres are having would have taken some intellectual effort, but murder is never the answer.

I am not sad George Steinbrenner is dead. He was a complete dick. In 1974 Steinbrenner pleaded guilty to making illegal contributions to Nixon's re-election campaign, and to a felony charge of obstruction of justice. It's ironic that he received his felony conviction for trying to create a political competitive imbalance , and he is also more responsible for the current competitive imbalance in major league baseball than any other single person.

From 1982 to 1990, the Yankees were a bad team, mostly due to his rash decisions and ego flexing. Luckily for Yankees fans , he got booted out of baseball for a while. On July 30, 1990 Steinbrenner received a "lifetime ban" from baseball from then Commissioner Fay Vincent. Why? Because he freaking paid a gambler named Howie Spira $40,000 to dig up "dirt" on his biggest star and future hall of famer Dave Winfield. (Winfield was suing the Yankees for failing to live up to a clause in his contract that paid his charitable foundation $300,000) Re read that last part.

He was reinstated in 1993, but while George was on "time out", the foundation was laid for those excellent Yankees teams of the late 1990's. They won it all in 1996, 1998, 1999 and 2000. If he had been more involved this would never have happened. Don't tell me Bernie Williams, Tino Martinez and Scott Brosius would have survived under aggressive George. Cancerous dudes like Albert Belle and Bobby Bonilla would have been on those teams and ruined them. Everyone says how great he was for being willing to shell out cash, in order to give his team the best shot at winning. Yeah, but the Yankees best teams and highest levels of success were not achieved with those tactics. Most over rated owner ever.

Melvin Gibson:

I recently watched a documentary on The OJ Simpson car chase. That was probably the last pre internet/ cell phone mega, celebrity, bomb-shell story. I sincerely believe there is no way the Juice would have gotten away with murder today. Too many people would have too much access to too much information. There would not have been a single person in the United States that lived indoors that would have not convicted him. This brings me to one Melvin Gibson. I don't even know if his birth name is Melvin, but just say "Melvin Gibson"...it's fun isn't it? ( come to think of it, it's pretty fun saying Orenthal Simpson. Try it in a sentence. "Orenthal Simpson is a free man even though he lopped off his ex wife's dome.") See? Fun.

Back to Melvin.. I listened to his 8 minute rant the other day. He sounded blind with rage and certainly capable of murder. ( I kept waiting for him to scream out, "Give me back my son!" ) He sounded like a guy that would certainly kill someone or himself. His humiliating depantsing on the internet flushed the remnants of his Hollywood career down the toilet, but it may have also saved some lives. We all know Melvin digs scripture. He could have played Abraham, who was just fine sacrificing his son Issac. Shit the Bible is fun! Melvin's religious hypocrisy is the lowest of hanging fruit, so I will stop. But that does remind me to make a quick shout out to

Levi Johnston:

Sarah Palin and her family are white trash. Unfortunately, a large percentage of American voters are also white trash. But you do have to think that the somewhat sophisticated fringe supporters of hers ( oxy moron?) have given up any delusions of a 2012 campaign. What with Sarah finding out via US weekly that her daughter was marrying her ex boyfriend. The same guy that has ripped Sarah Palin for any media source that will listen. He deeply divulged, in embarrassing detail, her celebrity ambitions... and then posed for Playgirl. We all owe this Levi Johnston a drink and a bear hug. Dude is a stud.

Glorious 4th

2010-07-16T08:47:00.000-07:00

So, Kate and I drove to Turk Lake the Friday afternoon of the 4th of July weekend. It's a great little spot and that's where her family's Cottage is located. Unfortunately, one of our friend decided that Saturday July 3rd was a great day to get married.

I guess while we were at the wedding, likely listening to the amazingly horrible DJ spin Mustang Sally, someone at my future in laws place clogged up the one and only toilet. It was repaired and order was restored, at least for the time being.

We get back Sunday and had a perfect lake afternoon. Many beers and unhealthy snacks were thrown down and a quality bags tournament was held.

Then, I had to go...so i did. It wouldn't flush. I plunged my 3 huge screamers w/ all I had but only managed to liquify a bunch of trouble. The toilet spilled onto the floor.... the blackest tea you ever saw w/ various people's floaters and fanny shrapnel. I had to ladle out all of it into a bucket sans gloves w/ an empty cool whip container. The bathroom was like 105 degrees and it is small. Adam, my future brother in law, and I then carried the sloshing hooper out to the yard so we could snake out the poo poo or dislodge a weekend's worth of hell spackle.

I am just proud I never threw up. I feel like I can do anything now. Diapers will have nothing on this.

Kansas Fan on Potential Conference Assassination.

2010-06-10T09:54:00.000-07:00

This is not gentle pontification. If you are not a University of Kansas graduate or a college sports fan, you should skip this. It is vulgar and sophomoric as well.

Over a year ago, The University of Missouri started whining that the may have to move their school to another conference, in order to be treated more fairly. They justifiably felt screwed when Kansas went to the 2008 Orange Bowl and not them. It is also BS that schools like Baylor made as much if not more cash than them under the Big 12's current financial agreement. The Big 12's TV deal is very weak as well.

About 7 months ago, a friend of mine who graduated from Marquette expressed worry about the Big East getting torn apart ( still are plenty of rumors) and obviously Marquette would be in that road's ditch. Apparently, the Big 10 has been scheeming some type of power play for a while, and we should all hate and root against that conference forever.

I cant hep but think that MU's crying perked the ears of the Big 10 and helped set their sites on Nebraska. So, here I go..

NEBRASKA:

Nebraska has felt very screwed over by it's traditional Big 8 Brothers ( KU in-particular) for selling out to Texas and always voting with them and against Nebraska. ie: moving the Big 12 HQ to Texas and moving the Big 12 championship game there. Nebraska football is beyond proud and they don't want to be just a part of UT's conference. That's why I am sure they are bolting. ( while I follow the logic....f-ck them forever too. Being in the Big 12 North, they have a much easier path to a conference championship game and BCS bowl games....this will also create new recruiting challenges and for a tradition rich icon like them to go to another conference? I think it is the wrong move)

Kansas fans, you all know that regardless of the shuffle, the next 2 years are likely to be played out in the Big 12 right? I say we bus as many frat boys as possible to Lincoln for the game and organize a Blitzkrieg pub crawl where they rape their cows, milk their sluts, and paint that sorry excuse of a town BLUE. I will financially participate in a fund we create for their bail money. I am good for one thousand dollars.

COLORADO:

It's time we pulled this scab off. The only real rivalry they had was in football against Nebraska and they cry almost as much as MU. In their defense, they don't really fit in and the latest says they are PAC 10 bound....fine. They and not Baylor are supposedly the potential 6th team taken in the PAC 10 invasion by the way

TEXAS:

Most think I'm wrong here, but I don't see why UT leaves a conference they utterly control. They might do it, creating a PAC 10 monster with 2 BCS bids, but why don't they orchestrate a new TV deal with FOX ( that option is dangling out there) and add 2 more schools not currently in a major conference? So what if Nebraska and CU leave, Utah, Boise State...Louisville? Also, have fun recruiting against USC.

Let's thank them for their help, but be sure if we expand it excludes any more Texas schools. This Baylor little brother tagging along sh-t from the Texas Board of Regents has been nauseating.

There is also a chance the PAC 10 goes to 20, yes 20. In this case KU would be included in this mega conference and we could breath a sigh of relief but still kind of feel like we just got fingered. ( not in an awesome high school way, but in a prostate check way, that guys my age are starting to face....I know this is smart, but, but I feel gross and it kind of hurts)

MISSOURI:

Shame on them forever, the new most hated university in the Big 12 or anywhere else. Use all of this against them in recruiting and don't shed a tear when they eventually move out. They will be even easier to scold and humiliate now.

WORSE CASE:

Nebraska is gone to the Big 10 and 6 more to the PAC 10, leaving KU, Kansas State, ISU out for sure, probably MU and either Baylor or CU. Not pretty at all. This means we are not in the PAC 10 and have to either invade crappy conferences and start one with the likes of KSU and ISU, or more likely join the Mountain West. Both options make me kind of sick.

KU BASKETBALL:

If we end up in the Mountain West let's pray to god we win the last 2 years of the big 12 and a national championship trophy 2012. KU should have an awesome roster that year ( as long as transfers don't come from this) Coach Self is pissed and he will have a chance to slaughter his new even more hated enemies for 2 years. But then, Self is gone, likely to the NBA or to another traditional power. I will be real mad if he goes to Oklahoma State, even though he played there...they would have participated in this process he is currently decrying. Even if coach stays, there is no way KU would retain it's current dominant position. I will say, Self's quotes on this are the best articulated thoughts on how wrong and bad this situation is and you should google them.

Funny, ESPN doesn't have anyone from their football team expressing outrage over this hostile take over of conferences that will make non-revenue sports a joke and makes the student athlete theory a complete sham. No it's not funny because....

ESPN is the devil. They are not journalists, they are sales reps for a stock. They have dummied down sports and made it very easy and cheap to cover them. They dictate...they do not report. They pick like 4 topics and t-tty f them to death. It is in their best interest to help this monopoly along...lets hope FOX creates a true competitor and soon.

NCAA FOOTBALL.

The ultimate good ole boy network that is so arrogant that they flaunt and revel in not having a playoff..they would rather control the outcome of the season, and apparently everything else. Regardless of this outcome, I will struggle to pay attention to any NCAA football games that don't have my school in them ( and even that has been very compromised)

Elvis Tribute

2010-05-25T11:41:00.000-07:00

My friend, Chris, was given his nickname, Elvis, buy a Topeka reporter. Back in high school, Chris was the starting power forward, I think, for Topeka high. He even got his mug in the paper a time or two. On one such occasion, his likeness to Elvis Presley was mentioned, and he has been "Elvis" to all of his friends ever sense. I think it was a good call, because Chris's face does resemble the King's , and he is also capable, depending on his seasonal lifestyle, of looking like Presley during various stages of his illustrious career. Outside of physical likeness, the only comparison I can make between the two is an affection for interesting peanut butter pairings. Presley loved peanut butter and banana sandwiches, and last year at our annual men's Christmas Dinner, Chris had the waitress bring him a watchamacallit candy bar and a can of Jiff. ( creamy jiff)

Chris does have an enormous affection and appreciation for music and it's place in history. His sister exposed him to a ton of underground, alternative, punk music at a young age, and it seems his free spirited parents didn't drag his sail for all things that rock. He made quite the first impression on me when we met at Louise West Bar our Junior year at the University of Kansas. Standing 6'3", he had straight hair down to his butt, and wore tore up jeans, birkenstocks and a black t-shirt. He spoke, without bragging, about all of the shows he went to. I was amazed how he knew the names of every member of every band I had or had never heard of. Elvis has cropped short hair now and sports a collar more often than not, but the music re-call is still incredible. He and I participated in a trivia night two years ago, and he knew the actual birth names of 20 rappers. ( I knew Eric Wright was Easy E and Sean Carter was Jay-Z, but he slam dunked 18 others..pretty fly)

It wasn't until I moved to Chicago, seven years ago, that I became close friends with Elvis. We quickly bonded over baseball. He loves it as much as I do, and, just like everything else, he knows more about it than me. Even though that is the case, he presents his memories and knowledge in ways that almost trick me into thinking they are mine. He's a very generous guy that way. More than a few times, we have shared beers and escaped to the chasms of baseball nerdville. It's not like we haven't spoken often about relationships, careers, and family, because we have and do. It's just that sometimes you don't feel like talking about anything, but you don't want to be quiet either. He's really good at that too.

Elvis and his disgusting bull dog, Franklin, live a short walk from Wrigley Field. He's become an unapologetic, cliched, overly optimistic Cub's fan. He's that Cub's fan that's one 4 game winning streak away from believing they can win at all, every year. We flew to New York a couple Labor Day's ago to see Yankees Stadium before it was torn down, then caught a train to Boston. It was the first visit to Fenway for both of us and the the first no hitter either one of us had ever witnessed. ( I'll elaborate on this trip closer to Labor Day)

A few years ago, Elvis went through a hard time. It was very difficult to watch someone who is gentle and careful with others, get treated so poorly and recklessly. I think we both were in need off a get away at this time, and he decided we should celebrate our birthday's together in Santiago, Chile.... all on his credit card's points. (If this is starting to sound gay, don't feel bad. My step dad was convinced I had switched teams with this "Elvis Bastard" for most of 2006. ) It was one of the most memorable trips I have been on, and I hope it was one of his best birthdays.

Today, May 26th, is his birthday. Tonight, the birthday boy is hosting people at his condo for beers and pizza. We will then stroll to the Metro, one of Chicago's best music venues, for a show. On the way to the show, his neighborhood will be a buzz because it's finally summer here, and the recently surging Cubs also happen to be hosting the Dodgers. I am very excited about the band we are seeing, but am pretty sure in a few years I will forget much of tonight's details. Elvis won't. He absorbs the moment and relishes in the happy past like nobody else I know. He'll always remember the venue, the band , the band members, everyone he had over, and then everyone he'll meet later in the evening.

Happy Birthday Elvis.

The Accidental Racist Tourist

2010-05-13T06:33:00.000-07:00

Last Summer, Katelin and I went to my friend's wedding in Minneapolis. Neither one of us had been there, and I was more than pleasantly surprised with the town. We stayed at the Sheraton downtown, the same hotel where we would all gather post rehearsal dinner for drinks.

I wonder what it is like to tend at a hotel bar? Speaking directly to self esteem, where does the hotel bar keep fall in hierarchy ? I'm not talking about the swank, must be seen at hotel bars that stand as today's zenith of coolness. I'm talking about the Hyatt Regencies of the world. Nice enough places, but no gussied up twenty somethings go there to party.

Is the guy mixing drinks at the Marriott more or less evolved than the Chili's or Dick's Last Resort tender? I like to think the person pouring spirits at Embassy Suites has hundreds of broken, business traveler stories. "Regional Managers" stressed with their "National Vice President's" demands and their "crappy territories". He's witnessed extremely, mediocre adultery many times over, and begged off wanton flight attendants throwing their room cards at him....or not.

That is beside the point. The bartender at the Minneapolis Sheraton didn't mince words, worked fast, and made a strong drink. This is the perfect bar tender for the group I celebrated with that night.

I was having a blast catching up with old friends, telling stories, and proudly introducing Katelin to everyone. So, it's safe to say, I was in more than a bit of a hurry by the time I realized I needed to use the men's room. This happens to me more than I would like to admit. Happy to say, this is not a growing prostrate issue, as this habit began a long time ago. ( in case you were worried) It's just that when I am havig a good time, I sometimes act like the good time will never happen again, wonderful, side-splitting conversations will forever be gone. I always leave a clean social plate. It really can be quite exhausting.

Well, this specific late detour to the men's room was a code red. I started looking for the bathroom. Odd thing about hotel bars, usually no bathroom. The reception floor bathroom often doubles as the bar's rest room, and this was the Sheraton's foot print. Have you ever done a " I have to go to the bathroom walk"? It's this weird and painful speed walk, where I clinch my urethra and backside while my legs quickly scissor me forward. It takes focus and some tunnel vision.

I pushed open the bathroom door and immediately a sharp, wretched, "are you serious" smell hit me. Having lost control of my internal dialogue two vodka's ago,I just had to comment on the stench to the bathroom attendant. It went something like this.

Ed: ( unzipping his fly while still walking to the urinal) "Holy God man , who just got murdered and shit their pants in here!? Talk about a rough day in the office for you!"

Black Man, wearing all black, leaning against the wall that Ed thinks is a bathroom attendant:

"What?"

Ed: ( urinating while thinking himself both hilarious and empathetic) "Seriously, I hope he at least tipped well, after shitting the hell out this ....place and shit. Don't inhale too deep man, you'll get cancer. Where's the maitred', I'm getting you a mask.

( finishing urinating, tucking his business back in his pants, taking two singles from his pocket and attempting to hand them to the man)

" Well, where are your mints? Where is the juicy FRUIT?!"

Pissed off Black man wearing all black, leaning against the wall that Ed now realizes is NOT the bathroom attendant:

"What the fuck are you doing, and who the fuck do you think you are talking too?"

I didn't even wash my hands. I walked through the lobby and back to the bar ...even more quickly than the last time.

Post Incident Feelings Observations:

Mild Guilt/Embarrassment:

Nice Ed, just because he's a black man wearing a color combination suggestion uniform, you think he's in the john to give you smokes and mints, real nice.

Excitement:

I almost got my ass kicked, but I didn't!

Defensive:

What was he even doing in there? There were only two people in that bathroom, him and me, so that rules out the chance that he was politely waiting for a friend. (And it smelled like D Day) I was doing my focused bathroom walk and had drinks in me, how am I supposed to properly conjugate that weird scene. Not fair.

I think the final feeling and the one making me feel best about myself was Annoyed.

Cliche', I know, but who doesn't hate the whole bathroom attendant industry? It's beyond awkward to have to stroll into the hooper, look in a stranger's eyes, make nicey nice, and feel weird and guilted if you don't give him a dollar. Most importantly, what grown person can't find the available toilet and then wash and dry their own hands? I have also noticed that, more often than not, they no longer offer valuable or hilarious treats like axe spray, ribbed condoms, smokes, and tic tacs. A bad trend for an already depressed market. I'm not the problem, they are.

I hope you got as much out of this as I did

The Horrible Beauty of Home Runs

2010-05-07T10:06:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite writers, Joe Posnanski, recently wrote a column that listed his personal top 20 home runs of all time. It got my wheels spinning.

I love baseball. At an early age I embraced it's nostalgia, romanticism and sense of history. It truly was my religion, and I still can't accurately place events and moments from my childhood without it as reference. Here are my top 3 most memorable home runs in chronological order.

Howard Johnson, New York Mets, Wrigley Field 1989.

For my 16th birthday, my Dad took to me to Chicago to see a couple Cubs games, and to tell me that he and my mom were getting a divorce. Having never seen Wrigley, this was a pilgrimage for me. Having already been told of the upcoming split, but sworn to secrecy, this pilgrimage was also sad....a Wailing Wall visit of sorts.

It was a night game, in and of itself a novelty for Wrigley in 1989, and the place was buzzing. I was full of adrenaline when we got off the red line and couldn't believe how everyone in the neighborhood seemed to be as excited as I was about a baseball game. That place looked how I had always felt about the game. I purposefully walked through the tunnel and into the seats as slow as the crowd would let me, telling myself to never forget the moment. ( it worked) I swear our seats were only a few rows away from where poor Mr. Bartman sat years later for National League Championship Series.

Being a huge Royals fan, living in Kansas City, I had no rooting interest. I just wanted to see something amazing, and avoid the horrible talk that swung it's enormous bat in my mind's on deck circle. Fifth inning, the third baseman for the Mets, Howard Johnson came on with two on and two out. The switch hitting Hojo was batting from the right side, but I can't remember the Cubs lefty he was facing. I do remember he served up a hanging curve that got yanked out of Wrigley and landed on Waveland Avenue. The only stadium I had been to at this time was cavernous Royals Stadium. Nobody had or has ever hit one out of the now named "K", so I saw something that, at the time, seemed amazing ( I did once see Jim Rice drop a bomb at the K, landing a few feet from the Crown scoreboard..this made my uncle say, "Oh Fuck") After Hojo launched that 3 run dinger, I looked at my Dad. His face was lit up like a Christmas Tree, we high fived as he yelled, "Oh Fuck!".

We went to Ed Debevics, a touristy 1950's themed burger joint after the game. My name is Ed, so I was pretty psyched when I was allowed to drink a full bottle of beer who's label read " Ed's Beer" . My Dad was pretty psyched too because he drank about seven of them.

We caught a game the next day. The Cubs lost a rain delayed contest to the Cardinals. I don't remember what we did that night. On our drive home from the airport that Sunday I watched him struggle to start the uncomfortable conversation he thought he had to have with me. I feigned sympathy and surprise, two lies, and it wasn't very fair for either of us. That being the case, I do absolutely value that weekend more than ever, and to this day, there is nothing I want to do more on my birthday than go to a baseball game.

Ed Connealy, Red Birds, A crappy baseball field in Southern Johnson County, 1991

I waited until my very last competitive baseball game to hit one over a fence. My first and last legit homer came in the Championship game the summer of my Senior Year. In the fifth inning, ( we only played 7, that always infuriated me) we were down by two runs and our pitcher loaded the bases by walking his second straight batter. He then went 3-0 to the next hitter and started screaming at the umpire. Our coach, his Dad, pulled him before he got ejected. I went from shortstop to the mound with the bases loaded and a 3-0 count and threw two great sliders and a fastball for a dramatic strike out. I was to lead off the next inning, and the guy pitching is the guy I just gutted. I wasn't done. His first pitch was a meatball and I hit it out of the park, probably over 340 feet. My balls never felt so big.

Flash to the bottom of the 7th, and I am up against this kid again. We are still down one and have a runner on second and third, and there are two outs. I shoot his weak curve on the screws opposite field and it lands in the webbing of the out stretched right fielder's glove. I have never cried so hard.

Ken Harvey of the Kansas City Royals, Kaufman Stadium, 2003

When I was a kid, the Kansas City Royals were good....real good. It's fair to say that from 1977-1985, they were among baseball's elite. They had a couple seasons in the early 90's when they contended, but sinse winning it all in 1985, they had been a horrible baseball team. ...until the Spring of 2003.

The Royals started the 2003 season 9-0 and stood 11-3 when the Detroit Tigers came to town. In the 11th inning Ken Harvey, a poor man's Mo Vaughn, strolled through the rain to the plate. Everyone stayed despite the hour and the weather. The house was wired. Ken yanks a no doubter deep into the left field fountain to win the game, and the "K" went crazy.....crazier than I had ever seen it. I had been to at least 100 Royals games prior to this one. I went to Game 1 of the 1985 World Series. I had seen Bo Jackson break the laws of physics there. I saw The Royals complete a sweep of the Angels to take the American League West. But I never saw that stadium completely go off like I did after Ken Harvey's home run.

Initially, I was surprised at how emotionally charged me and my fellow win starved fans reacted. I distinctly remember the strongest reactions came from the fans aged over 30. We were not just celebrating that home run as much as a happy time in our pasts that we knew we would never get back. Beneath our happy yelling was a little anger and some sadness. The KC Star sports page displayed an awesome photo of big Ken circling the bases in the rain the next morning. It was like finding a picture of or a note from an old, lost friend.

Many of my favorite and almost all of my most vivid memories are layered like these home runs.

(The 2003 Kansas City Royals finished 83-79. They have not finished above 500 again, and it was the franchise's first winning season since 1993. They finished 7 games out of first place that season. Ken Harvey was out of baseball by 2006)

The Horrible Beauty of Home Runs

2010-05-07T08:48:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite writers, Joe Posnanski, recently wrote a column that listed his personal top 20 home runs of all time. It got my wheels spinning.

I love baseball. At an early age I embraced it's nostalgia, romanticism and sense of history. It truly was my religion, and I still can't accurately place events and moments from my childhood without it as reference. Here are my top 3 most memorable home runs in chronological order.

Howard Johnson, New York Mets, Wrigley Field 1989.

For my 16th birthday, my Dad took to me to Chicago to see a couple Cubs games, and to tell me that he and my mom were getting a divorce. Having never seen Wrigley, this was a pilgrimage for me. Having already been told of the upcoming split, but sworn to secrecy, this pilgrimage was also sad....a Wailing Wall visit of sorts.

It was a night game, in and of itself a novelty for Wrigley in 1989, and the place was buzzing. I was full of adrenaline when we got off the red line and couldn't believe how everyone in the neighborhood seemed to be as excited as I was about a baseball game. That place looked how I had always felt about the game. I purposefully walked through the tunnel and into the seats as slow as the crowd would let me, telling myself to never forget the moment. ( it worked) I swear our seats were only a few rows away from where poor Mr. Bartman sat years later for National League Championship Series.

Being a huge Royals fan, living in Kansas City, I had no rooting interest. I just wanted to see something amazing, and avoid the horrible talk that swung it's enormous bat in my mind's on deck circle. In about the 3rd inning, the third baseman for the Mets, Howard Johnson came on with two on and two out. The switch hitting Hojo was batting from the right side, but I can't remember the Cubs lefty he was facing. I do remember he served up a hanging curve that got yanked out of Wrigley and landed on Waveland Avenue. The only stadium I had been to at this time was cavernous Royals Stadium. Nobody had or has ever hit one out of the now named "K", so I saw something that, at the time, seemed amazing ( I did once see Jim Rice drop a bomb at the K, landing a few feet from the Crown scoreboard..this made my uncle say, "Oh Fuck") After Hojo launched that 3 run dinger, I looked at my Dad. His face was lit up like a Christmas Tree, we high fived as he yelled, "Oh Fuck!".

We went to Ed Debevics, a touristy 1950's themed burger joint after the game. My name is Ed, so I was pretty psyched when I was allowed to drink a full bottle of beer who's label read " Ed's Beer" . My Dad was pretty psyched too because he drank about seven of them.

We caught a game the next day. The Cubs lost a rain delayed contest to the Cardinals. I don't remember what we did that night. On our drive home from the airport that Sunday I watched him struggle to start the uncomfortable conversation he thought he had to have with me. I feigned sympathy and surprise, two lies, and it wasn't very fair for either of us. Honestly though, I absolutely value that weekend we had together now more than ever, and to this day, there is nothing I want to do more on my birthday than go to a baseball game.

Ed Connealy, Red Birds, A crappy baseball field in Southern Johnson County, 1991

I waited until my very last competitive baseball game to hit one over a fence. My first and last legit homer came in the Championship game the summer of my Senior Year. In the fifth inning, ( we only played 7, that always infuriated me) we were down by two runs and our pitcher loaded the bases by walking his second straight batter. He then went 3-0 to the next hitter and started screaming at the umpire. Our coach, his Dad, pulled him before he got ejected, and I went from shortstop to the mound with the bases loaded and a 3-0 count. I threw to great sliders and a fastball for a dramatic strike out. I led off the next inning and the guy pitching is the guy I just gutted. I wasn't done. His first pitch was a meatball and I hit it out of the park, probably over 340 feet. My balls never felt so big.

Flash to the bottom of the 7th and I am up against this kid again. We are still down one and have a runner on second and third, and there are two outs. I shoot his weak curve on the screws opposite field and it lands in the webbing of the out stretched right fielder's glove. I have never cried so hard.

Ken Harvey of the Kansas City Royals, Kaufman Stadium, 2003

When I was a kid, the Kansas City Royals were good....real good. The Royals were "the model expansion franchise organization". It's fair to say that from 1976-1985, they were among baseball's elite. They had a couple seasons in the early 90's when they contended, but since winning it all in 1985, they had been a horrible baseball team. ...until the Spring of 2003.

The Royals started the 2003 season 9-0 and stood 11-3 when the Detroit Tigers came to town. The game went extra innings and Ken Harvey, a poor man's Mo Vaughn, strolled to the plate in a pretty steady rain. Everyone stayed despite the hour and the weather. Ken yanks a no doubter deep into the left field fountain to win the game, and the "K" went crazy.....crazier than I had ever seen it. I had been to at least 100 Royals games prior to this one. I went to Game 1 of the 1985 World Series. I had seen Bo Jackson break the laws of physics there. I saw The Royals clinch the American League West. But I never saw that stadium completely go off like I did after Ken Harvey's home run.

Initially, I was surprised at how emotionally charged me and my fellow win starved fans reacted. I distinctly remember the strongest reactions came from the fans aged 30 plus. I was not just celebrating that home run as much as a happy time in my community's pasts that we would never get back. I remember that beneath my happy yelling was a little anger and some sadness. The KC Star sports page displayed an awesome photo of big Ken circling the bases in the rain the next morning. It was like finding a picture of or a note from an old, lost friend.

Many of my favorite and all of my most vivid memories are layered like these home runs.

(The 2003 Kansas City Royals finished 83-7. They have not finished above 500 again, and it was the franchise's first winning season since 1993. They finished 7 games out of first place that season. Ken Harvey was out of baseball by 2006)

Please Mr. Postman

2010-05-06T12:43:00.000-07:00

Like many other manufacturers and service providers, The United States Postal Service watched it’s volume steeply decline last year, about 13%. Last month, the Postal Service predicted that mail volume will never see it’s “pre-recession” levels, and it will propose big changes in how we get and send our mail.

These changes may or may not occur this year, but you can soon expect the end of Saturday delivery, longer delivery times for letters and packages, and dramatic increases in costs for postage.

Newspapers are slowly, or not so slowly, passing away. Through the 1990s and into this decade, newspaper circulation was sliding, but by less than 1 percent a year. Then the rate of decline topped 2 percent in 2005, 3 percent in 2007 and 4 percent in 2008. 2009….down over 10%.

Both industries were caught extremely off guard as a new, “flat world” sped right by them. And it’s a real shame.

It’s a shame because there are fewer and fewer threads holding our country’s different classes, races and generations together.

We used to all receive at least some of the same news. There was a common baseline for every person to react to. We certainly did not react in unison to the AP press, but we all had the AP press in common, and were experiencing more of the same realities together.

We probably won’t share the AP for long now. We will choose our news, create our history, and likely craft a ton of inaccurate memories. All a la carte, catering to our personal cravings.

There will never be another Walter Cronkite. Our kids will never share a Tom Brokaw. Conservatives will have their Glenn Becks, and liberals their Keith Olbermans.

I doubt we will share a mailman much longer. This may be old fashioned, but I consider the mailman a part of our shared community experience. The Post Office has also been a huge part of desegregating the country. A large percentage of postal workers have been minorities. As of 2008, it was still a strong hold at 38%. Good jobs that were an important part of the community, with solid benefits have been there for people not born with much stability or opportunities for education.

I wonder if much of this could have been avoided. One of the smartest books I have read the last few years is “A Whole New Mind”, written by Daniel Pink. One of the book’s main premises is that if your business can be done more quickly buy a computer, or less expensively over seas, you are very vulnerable. He also stresses the need for design and creativity for our country’s future economic success.

I know that isn’t earth -shattering news today, and that most any of us can agree this is a reality, but I am surprised the Postal Service and The Papers were slapped so hard.

You would think that an organization that gets a letter from New York to LA in 3 days for less than a dollar, amazing when you think about it, would be one of the first groups to master and manipulate the internet’s opportunities for better shipping solutions.

You would think an Industry packed with creative writers and journalists that started out their careers wanting to save or change the world, would have been more progressive, more open to changing how they communicated with us.

I’m surprised because I think both parties have traditionally been filled with creative people and efficient problem solvers. I hope others in progressive fields are paying attention, because these a la carte dishes taste bland and lonely.