Remembering… Never Forgetting

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She would have been 100-years old yesterday, if she had lived that long.
 
Out of a busy schedule, digging for information, watching Torrey Pines and the PGA Tour, looking for storylines to write about, it dawned on me, in the strangest place.
 
The first round of the Farmers Insurance Open was delayed yesterday morning at Torrey Pines by fog, lots of it, damp-cold-breezy fog.  The kind I used to encounter growing up on Eastern Long Island.  Fog that rolls in so thick, you think you can cut it open with a pair of scissors.  Fog so wet, it just drips.  Fog so chilly you get cold despite a couple of layers of clothing.  Fog that makes you think of old time London, England movies.
 
And it reminded me of home, and then it reminded me of my mother, who would have been 100-yesterday morning.  It brought to mind a message I always pass on to friends.
 
I lost my dad at a young of age to cancer, died a week after he retired, never knowing he was sick.  Cancer, the cruel form of death.
 
My mom died at 94, having living a full life.  Alzheimer’s and Dementia took her, took her quickly from us.  Dementia, the saddest form of death.
 
But in the mist and the chill and the solitude that was Torrey Pines, I remembered growing up with her.  Family of seven kids, devout Italian Catholics, with rules and regulations that never seemed to end.  Strong discipline, stronger values.  Education and religion a part of everyday life like eating, sleeping and playing.
 
You remember incidents, getting hit with a hairbrush for pulling your sister’s hair.  Getting sent to the bedroom for hours for being mischievous.  Getting your mouth washed out with soap for saying a ‘no-no’.  Being made to sit at the dining room table and doing that homework, till it was done, and double-checked.
 
You think back to to reality things in life.  Wondering how a family that big could subsist without much income, and yet send all the kids to Catholic school, and all four to college.
 
Flashbacks of family pictures, holidays, what few vacations we took.  Remembering a mother who seemed forever awaiting the arrival of the next baby.  Thinking back to her raising a family almost single handedly while her husband travelled with a job.
 
In the waning days of her life, when I took ‘care control’ of her, instead of sadness, we played to the memory of the life lived.  She didn’t always remember my name, confused me with a brother, said I was her husband, even asked me who was sitting at the end of the couch-my wife of 35-years.
 
Though there was not much current currency in her memory bank, there was history.  One night, sitting watching an NHL hockey game, she told me “I was there”.  Where I said?  “There-at Madison Square Garden”.  When-with who.  “With that man.  He took me and we had a great time on my first date.”  She was referencing a different era.  It was 1936 and my dad had taken her to see the Montreal Canadiens-vs-New York Rangers at the Garden.  Strange the way the ancient memory kicked in.  A treasured moment.
 
We all grow from our life’s experiences, good and bad.  We all remember happy times and sad. Some families were great, some were broken; some had wealth, others had poverty; some had love while others had alcohol.  We are a product of where we came from for sure.
 
But on this day, I thought of where she came from, a huge family, working in the mills, where Italian was the tongue, not English, and how she became the first to go to college.  How she lived a life of values and love.  How she steeled herself against the adversity of what happened to her brothers in World War II.  How she lived a life of strength after her husband passed.  And how her life spanned from Ellis Island, thru the Depression, the war, suburbia, and kids and grand-kids.
 
Of all the things you learn, the most valuable thing is to understand your heritage, your family, it’s history.  For when they, the parents are gone, a true piece of your life goes with it.
 
100-years, I relish what I know about her and her life, that impacted our life.  A mother may be gone, but surely never-ever forgotten.  You should try and grasp that too with your family.  Torrey Pines and banks of fog made me remember.

Golf Stars, Fading Stars

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Golf’s galaxy arrives and tees off today in the Farmer’s Insurance Open at the beauty that is Torrey Pines.
 
We will see the stars, the ones who hope to be, and sadly, the fading ones too.
 
The PGA Tour is so very diverse now.  No longer dominated by the future Hall of Famers, splashed instead with a cross section of young college stars from America, and an international roster of the best there is out there.
 
The names still draw the big galleries, and the network coverage, but for every Martin Kaymer, Matt Kuchar, Bubba Watson that groups follow, there will be an entourage stretching fairways, jamming around the tee, and sitting five rows deep on the greens to see the favorites, remembering what they used to be, hoping there is still some left.
 
They follow, cheer, hope for the best for Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson.  The historical polls would say the Orange County native, Woods, and the Rancho Santa Fe son, Phil, are still the favorites of the fans, and the poll says Woods and Mickelson love playing at Torrey Pines, Tiger with 7-wins here, Phil with a trio.
 
But that was then, and this is now.  Neither is what they used to be, and chances of them ever dominating in the future grows dimmer by the week.
 
Woods most heroic win was at Torrey in the US Open, playing on one leg.  The scenes of him limping, dragging a broken leg around the course, and making shots are forever burned in the mind of fans.  Mickelson, the fan’s man, makes shots, hits ball into the gallery, and is loved for his self critique “I am such an idiot”.
 
But these are tough times.  Tiger has changed clubs, changed coaches, changed swings, trying to get his game back to health.  But getting his physical health back may be the bigger challenge.  The Achilles, the calf, the knee, the back surgery, has diminished his game.  The violent torque of his swing has taken its toll.  The enormous weight training program as a young stud, may have damaged him permanently.
 
The stare and glare, and the blazing red-shirt on Sunday, has been replaced by curses, frowns,failed shots and soaring scores in red on the leaderboard..
 
An 82-last Friday in Scottsdale drove home the sad fact, his best days may be forever gone.  His scorecards read missing the cut in the PGA, at the Congressional, and last week’s Phoenix Open; pulling out at Firestone and the Honda: a 41st at Dubai, a 69th at the British Open.  He hasn’t won a major since 2008.  In chunks of time,  he is wild off the tee, horrible chipping it, and missing what used to be slam dunk putts.
 
And of course his trophy hunting golf game has been damaged by his trophy hunting game for women reputation.  I don’t think he ever recovered from the lies of life, to his wife, to his fans and then to his sponsors.  Selling an image, buy my car, my gear, my clothes, my sales pitch.  In modern day sports, no one, not even Mike Tyson, has taken a bigger fall down the elevator shaft of credibility.   .
 
For Mickelson, though still wildly popular, it has been a drought almost equal to the drought in California.  Since winning the Open in Scotland in 2013, Lefty has had only 2-top ten finishes.  It’s not so much aches and pains, but maybe age.  The completeness of his game seems to have gone away.  He makes fewer and fewer tourney appearances, and it appears the twilight of his career is almost upon us.
 
But the excellence of the husband helping his wife battle cancer, his charity work, his smile, his autograph sessions, his self-effacing personality still sells his greatness.
 
So we walk the Torrey Pines course the next four days, waiting to see which phenom puts up a good round, and who makes a run.  You applaud Tiger and Phil, not for what they are doing now, but what they did in the past, and how much you appreciate their personalities, whether it was prickly (Woods) or the every-man can (Phil).
 
Wishing that Rory McIlroy would make San Diego a stop on the tour, and bring his flair and fine shot making to this course.  Of course, when Dubai offers a huge appearance fee, plus big prize money, you know why McIlroy and his relentless game and persona play abroad.
 
The galaxy is upon us this weekend, even if our favorite stars don’t shine as bright as they did before.
 

One of the Bolts’ Best

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NFL farewells are seldom friendly, so this day was the exception to the norm, the farewell of respect, love and friendship for longtime Chargers center Nick Hardwick.
 
History will write that the Purdue Boilermaker spent 11-years anchoring one of the best offensive lines in San Diego Chargers history.  Maybe better than the Air Coryell era offensive front that included longtime center Donnie Macek, and the line that went to the Super Bowl that was led by center Courtney Hall.
 
Farewells in NFL cities aren’t pretty, San Diego included.  LaDainian Tomlinson was let go to be a Jet.  Junior Seau was dealt to Miami.  Rodney Harrison exited to New England.  Dan Fouts retired in a press conference at his house.  Kellen Winslow just left.  Leslie O’Neal went to the enemy.
 
The stories are everywhere, turn in your playbook, or a phone call to an agent-he’s been released, or a voice mail, and sometimes even from a reporter-talkshow host.  Words like IR list, buyouts, waived injured are part of the language. Giving up the jersey most times is not an easy thing.
 
But Tuesday was indeed different, because maybe this player was different.  It was honest, it was heartfelt, it was classy.  It was Nick Hardwick representing all the things people have respected him for.
 
Nick Hardwick surprised himself with what he accomplished as Philip Rivers’ wingman on offense.  A third round pick, not highly regarded, who came to the party, got the job, never gave it up, and became a leader on the field, the lockeroom and in meeting rooms.
 
He laughed at practical jokes, got choked up talking about the qualities of Rivers ‘pure of heart-a saint’.  He talked about training sessions at 4:30am, and meeting room study of film with Rivers late at night,  to come up with blitz protections.  And he oozed emotion with a clenched fist when he and Rivers would look at each after a TD pass off a blitz and yell “we got em”.   
 
You only had to listen closely, and read between the lines, to understand how beloved a person, not just a player, Nick Hardwick became.
 
Fiery, intellectual, tough, compassionate and academically gifted.
 
Rivers kept using the phrase “he cared alot”, and never more so when a terrible concussion and a Gran Mal seizure threatened the life and took the career of his left guard Kris Dielman.  Ditto for the emotional support given to his right guard Jeromey Clary when hip surgeries brought him to the end of his career.
 
Eric Weddle voiced it best, “you play the game to be around people like Hardwick, respect about being a man, a father and a teammate”.
 
A choked up Mike McCoy said “San Diego was a special place because of special people like Nick Hardwick.”
 
GM Tom Telesco  used the phrase ‘you look in his eyes, and you know how important football was to him”.
 
But there are other sides to Hardwick too.  The one who thought about more than X’s and O’s, and blocking nose-tackles, or making protection line calls.  There was the academic side of the man, who studied the injury count in the NFL.
 
I remember him telling me, ‘every Sunday, there are 7-season ending injuries in the league, many that become career ending”.  He studied the Concussion lawsuits, and was a proponent of better equipment and rules for safety of the players.
 
He leaves at the right time, to enjoy the family he has, and the money he made.  In a quiet moment, you wonder if people like him also wonder what their life will be like at age 45 or 55, with everything we know about CTE and concussions.
 
For this day, history should write about his skill, his smarts, his high jinks, and his popularity.  Remember the short-sleeve cold weather toughness, and his quarterback wearing his “61” on his helmet the day Hardwick was lost for the season.
 
Broadcasting NFL games as long as I have, you love the passion, respect the athletes, and appreciate the philosophies of the special people of the game.  Nick Hardwick is right there at the top of the list of people you talked about, wrote about, and covered.  No cheering in the press box, but why not, for that player, that man. 
 
This farewell was expected; the outpouring of universal respect was earned, the respect and affection going in both directions.  The center peered into the second row at the press conference and told his quarterback “I love you”.  Nick Hardwick.  Fine man, fine player.

The Day After

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The day after looked really bright, despite the torrent of snow coming down in Boston.  The day after felt even worse than the gray skies in the Pacific Northwest.  Such was the end result of Super Bowl Sunday, the New England Patriots last second win against the Seattle Seahawks.
 
Explanations abounded as to why the final pass play, that resulted in an interception, was called.  And everyone was being called out for the final call too.
 
The headlines screamed across the country, about the all time worst call in a Super Bowl game at the worst moment.  Seahawks coach Pete Carroll was adamant ‘blame me”.  Russell Wilson maintained “it was on me”.  Offensive coordinator Darrell Bevell was saying “it was intended as a wasted second down play”, just to see if they could get it in the end zone.
 
In retrospect you have to look at the play closely to understand what was called and what happened.  Using the NFL pet phrase ‘upon further review’, this is the storyline.
 
The Seahawks were 2nd and goal at the one.  They sent in their wide receiver contingent, that included young wide receiver Ricardo Lockett, not a regular, but someone getting more playing time towards the end of the year.  New England countered with its ‘big boy’ goal line defense.
 
Bevell called down for a pick-play slant-screen with Wilson in the shotgun, and Lockett stacked behind another receiver on the right hand side.
 
Wilson took the snap, held the ball.  Lockett had to wait for the lead receiver to head to the right to pick off a DB.  The Lockett flashed left to what appeared to be an open seam at the goal line.
 
But the play took too long to develop; Wilson in the gun; Lockett standing for a full tick before starting his slash run.  
 
The Patriots recognized the pass from past video study.  A linebacker jumped into the open seam; cornerback Malcom Butler jumped the route, muscling his way infront of Lockette and caught the ball.
 
And then the second guessing on the second down call came from everywhere.  Why didn’t you run Marshawn Lynch, especially since you had timeouts?  What would you take Wilson and the football off the line of scrimmage?  How can you throw a slant on the goaline with no separation from defenders, with a crowd of people around.
 
Three bad things could have happened.  An incompletion,  a completion with a likely tackle for loss, or the worst of all, a pick.  
 
Play over, game over, Super Bowl hopes over.
 
The shockwaves are everywhere.  On the Seahawks sidelines, two veteran DBs shouted “WTF-why did you not run the ball”.  Pete Carroll, crestfallen, waited for Wilson to come off the field, only to have the QB say he needed to get the ball off quicker.  Bevell was upset that Lockett needed to be “stronger to the ball”, in essence fighting for the position to catch it.
 
Darrelle Revis told reporters “you don’t run the ball”?  Brandon Browner asked “what were they thinking”.  Patriots star Tom Brady heard a weird explanation of “playing for the next down” that it was a throwaway play.  NBC’s Cris Collinsworth kept mumbling “I can’t believe the call.”  
 
Words like stupified, shocked, speechless were all part of Monday’s opinion columns.  Headlines raged “Trophy stolen” and “Beast mode to brain dead”.
 
It was a phenomenal Super Bowl.  The ultimate Chess match between the two mad scientists, Bill Belicheck and Pete Carroll.  It was a game of momentum, and changes, big plays and adjustments.
 
Brady came out throwing to the flanks and underneath crossing routes.  He put together drives, rang up yards, and forced Seattle to start to go to press cover.  That opened up deeper passing routes, which led to the Patriots ‘yards after catch’ game.  Stuffed in the second half, falling behind 24-14, and held to one first down on a three possession sequence, Brady rallied the troops.  TD drives of 62-and-64 yards got them the lead.  The quarterback legend threw for 328-yards and 4-scores, and this was against a defense that had allowed just 6-TDs in 8-games.
 
Wilson struggled in the pocket, and went 25-minutes without a completion.  Lynch had to fight for yards against blitz runs.  But Seattle changed up, kept an extra blocker in, got Wilson to roll out, and suddenly he was hitting men on the move, in open seams, and big plays resulted.  They had 202-yards in a 3-possession time frame.
Seattle also quit trying to up inside, and started running counter gap runs to the left, running away from the state of Rhode Island sized Vince Wilfork.  End result, big gains for Lynch.
 
It was electric, it was exciting.  And the faces on the sidelines were an example of all the mood swings.  Tom Brady looked downcast after the Jermaine Kearse four bobble catch at the 5-yard line.  Richard Sherman shook his fist.  Two plays later, Brady was jumping up and down, Sherman was shaking his head left to right, starting into the ground.
 
It was a great Super Bowl, that went to the final :20 before someone ended it.  Pete Carroll could have by feeding the beast.  Malcom Butler did with his act of thievery.
 
Today Boston feels elation, Seattle feels devastation.  Someone always wins the Super Bowl game, but few have victory come this way and defeat feels so horrible that way. 

Champs-Not-Cheats

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The New England Patriots are the kings of football again, winning the Super Bowl last night.  The “Mad Scientist Coach” from Boston beat the “Madman” from Seattle, as the Patriots posted a (28-24) win over Seattle in Super Bowl.

 
It was the brilliance of Bill Belicheck and the performance of Tom Brady, in a Super Bowl game that was not decided till 58:40 of football had been played.
 
Brady dropped a bomb on the Legion of Boom defense.  Seattle’s reputation was dented then melted, under the 4-touchdown-328 yard passing performance.
 
Yes Rob Gronkowski caught balls, but the two smallest guys on the field, Julian Edleman and Danny Amendola combined for 14-catches and 2-critical fourth quarter scores.  And it was an unknown DB who preserved the win.
 
The game had wild mood swings.  Brady put together drives, only to have a ball picked off in the end zone.  Russell Wilson went 25-minutes without completing a pass.  Then the Seahawks quarterback piled up 202-yards in offense in just 3-possessions.
 
And it was game of chess moves too by the coaches.  Pete Carroll ran the ball early and often with Marshawn Lynch, but needed to have Wilson find his rythym.  They moved the pocket, had him roll out and bingo, he was making plays down the field.
 
Brady had one first down in 3-possessions in the 2nd half, and his team was down 24-14, but he kept throwing, started to hit seam routes, and the Pats started to get yards after catch.
 
Seattle’s number 1-ranked defense just could not hold up.  Weakened by injuries, New England scored 3-touchdowns against backup cornerbacks.
 
With a galaxy of stars on the field though, it was an undrafted street free agent, Malcom Butler, from tiny West Alabama, who made the play of the day, the goal line pick, to get the win.
 
For Belicheck, the honors continue to pile up.  4-Super Bowl rings, a (22-7) career record in postseason.  Ditto for Brady, his 4th ring, his 3rd MVP honor, and now an NFL history best 13-TDs, passing Joe Montana’s mark
 
And never one to fall short on motivating his team, he developed the “us-vs-them’ image all week, that no one nationwide thought the Patriots could win without cheating.  Take that, the proponents of ‘Deflate Gate’.
 
For the Seahawks, it was heartbreaking.  They went 80-yards in 5-plays in just :30 at the end of the first half to get a TD.  They almost duplicated it again in the final minute of the game.
 
Seattle had timeouts in their pocket, and the power-ball back, the Beast in the backfield, and did not run the ball into the endzone.  A crossing pattern pass in a traffic jam of defenders did them in at the one yard line.
 
Oh the despair, oh the second guessing.  Oh what a way to end the season. 
 
They won, those Patriots, they beat a really good Seattle team, in as good a Super Bowl as you’d ever want.