Beauty and the Beast

Beauty and the Beast.  In real life they didn’t live happily ever after.  A very sad conclusion to what for a few brief moments looked like a fairy tale ending.

The Beauty was the Nebraska defense.  What an effort.  To think of where Nebraska’s defense was just two years ago and then the  show they put on tonight is amazing.  If every high school kid that dreams of playing defense isn’t thinking about going to Nebraska, then they have no business going to college.  I can’t say enough for the effort of the players, the defensive scheme and of course the great Ndamukong Suh.  In the depths of my sadness right now, I can’t help but smile about the future of the Nebraska defense even without Suh.

Of course, the Beast was the Nebraska offense.  I thought they might just be pretty enough to pull it off late, but settling for field goals leaves a great team like Texas too much wiggle room.  A bad final kickoff sure didn’t help, but there were opportunities to put the game out of reach.  Nebraska just couldn’t pull it off.  Oh, how I hate Texas.  I’ll give myself my 24 hours to mourn and then look forward to a victory over USC in the Holiday Bowl and begin to look towards next season.  I hope Julie will do the same even though I know she is in total misery right now.  As the old line goes, basketball just fills the time between football season and spring practice.

I do hope some sort of changes can be made to spark increased offensive output next season.  I hate trying to be a coach.  I’ve been around enough to know that fans really know very little.  But, if I am to dream, those dreams start with the development of a long-term quarterback.  I still hope it will be Cody Green for the next three seasons.  Until signing day, I won’t even speculate on the prospects of their one highly touted quarterback recruit.  If it is still Zac Lee at the helm, I hope his senior year will be one of great progress.  Finding a big short-yardage running back would surely be nice too.

However, it is clear the future of Nebraska will be built around the defense.  Offensive superstars might look to warm climates and the fast tracks of the SEC, Big 12 South or Pac 10, but good defensive players will play anywhere.  I hope many head to Nebraska for years to come.  Bo Pelini has proven he might be a defensive genius.  He had to devote himself fully to that for the last two years.  Now, to prove he can be a great overall coach, a little more offense will mean less of these heart broken post-game posts and more wild unabashed celebrations like I just thought might happen tonight.

Julie and The Big Red

Laura, Julie and our gear before a game.

Come Saturday night, there won’t be another Nebraska fan in the world pulling harder for the big upset of Texas than my daughter, Julie.  Her love for the Huskers is a thing of beauty.  She has a way of filtering out all the good and the bad and hones in on, what for her, is just the wonder of Nebraska football.  She flat loves it.

She clearly knows exactly how and why Nebraska will win Saturday night.  It doesn’t matter that few experts give Nebraska a chance.  Until the final gun goes off, no one will be able to convince her otherwise.  Some might call her naïve.  I did the same when she found ways to even support Bill Callahan.  But, it is hard to argue with her loyalty.

Julie and I, born on the same April 10th day 32 years apart, share our Husker love.  However, we won’t be gathering to watch the game.  Julie doesn’t like my view of the game.  Too many years of covering teams has revealed too much of the dark side in any athletic program for me.  I always tell people I am so happy to have grown up in Kansas as a Nebraska fan.  I’m not sure I would be if I had grown up in Nebraska.  My view of the game is too real at times for Julie.  We’ll talk and text each other throughout, but we will watch from each of our homes.

However, I am very proud to have shared my love of Nebraska with Julie.  Since beginning my work as a photographer in 1969, I hadn’t sat in the stands for a football game until I took Julie to Lincoln in 1995.  Together we watched the eventual National Champion Huskers dismantle Arizona State 77-28, and her love of all things Red was cemented.

I managed to get Julie on the sidelines for a Nebraska game a few years later.  A ball rolled to a stop at her feet during warm-ups.  She quickly scooped up the ball and began the long climb of awed amazement as she rose up in front of a monstrous Nebraska offensive lineman.  By the time she got to the top of the helmeted monster, her head was cocked fully back with a look on her face that remains one of the best moments of my fatherhood.  At a Nebraska game in Lawrence, a Husker player gave her a football used in warm-ups, one of her most prized possessions.

As hard as it has been on me to see Nebraska fall from their once lofty heights, I felt even worse for Julie.  When I began going to Nebraska games, the team wasn’t good.  Then Bob Devaney arrived and the glory years began with a few off years.  Julie had never suffered through tough seasons until Tom Osborne’s departure.  The beauty of Julie’s devotion is that she truly believes those glory years are just a few seasons away.  For both our sakes, I hope they are as well.

While there is no team that can match Nebraska in her eyes, she has become a huge football and baseball fan.  Outside of some curiosity over ultimate fighting and a little NASCAR (where that came from I have no idea), baseball, the Yankees and Royals, and football, Nebraska and sadly the Chiefs, are her true favorites.  She goes to as many Royals games as her limited budget allows.  She has her score book with her every game.

Julie and her Dad after the KU-Nebraska game.

Over many years, a number of good friends, a few girlfriends, a wife and now Julie have helped as assistants for football games.  If I had to rank them, Michael York was clearly the best.  He had a sixth sense about gear.  Before I could even ask to change lens or cameras, he was already handing me what I needed.  The worst was easily my wife, Laura.  She was always messing with the cameras taking pictures.  Fortunately, she got awfully good doing that.  I had to dump her so she could go to the other sideline to shoot on her own.  That really is an ultimate compliment that I hope you all understand.  However, the joy of being on the sidelines sharing these years at KU with Julie has been very special for a father that loves her very much.  Her life is moving in new directions and locations.  I am saddened that our games together might be coming to an end soon but am so very happy for her.

I wish I were as kind and generous as Julie.  Watching her work with children in her various jobs has been amazing.  The Lord truly blessed Julie with a gift for such work.  She has been a blessing for various day cares, with Big Brothers and Sisters and now the Boy’s and Girl’s Club.  At times, Julie childlike nature drives me insane, but I can’t imagine Julie any other way.

As the realist I have become, I know that Nebraska’s chances are slim against Texas Saturday.  As hard as I will be pulling for Nebraska to win, the victory – which I do believe can come – will be made even more special because of what it will mean to my wonderful daughter.  Go Big Red!

Cruising in the HAV Lane

Leaving Lawrence after a KU basketball game I entered the Kansas Turnpike at the Lecompton entrance and headed for Topeka.  Sliding into the right lane, I set my cruise control, turned up the volume on the radio and cruised right along.

Many states use HOV lanes.  These “high occupancy vehicle” lanes were created to promote carpooling and ease congested freeways by awarding the use of a swift and relatively traffic-free lane.  We don’t have HOV lanes in Kansas as far as I know.  However, along the short strip of six-lane Turnpike between the Lecompton terminal and the east Topeka terminal, KDOT might as well paint the right lane with HAV.  That would stand for “HARDLY ANY VEHICLES” lane.

The ride home from the basketball game meant never having to leave the right lane.  That doesn’t mean I didn’t pass cars.   I counted 19.  Yes, I am aware it is not the best to pass on the right, but it is hard to resist.  I can do this often because obviously very few know how to drive wisely or legally.  Very few care that in July Kansas passed a “Right Lane Law.”

Here are exact changes:

● It amends existing law to require vehicles to be driven in the right lane when two lanes of traffic are going in the same direction on a highway outside of any city. It also requires vehicles on highways with three or more lanes proceeding in the same direction not to be driven in the far left lane. Exceptions apply to both cases:

● When overtaking and passing another vehicle;

● When preparing to make a proper left turn;

● As otherwise directed by official traffic-control devices; or

● As otherwise required by other provisions of law.

It is important to remember this applies to all multi-lane roads, not just the six-lane stretch of the Turnpike.  I once followed a girlfriend to her family home outside Abilene.  The moment she drove onto I-70 heading west, she planted her car in the left lane and never gave thought to moving over for any oncoming traffic.  In times before cell phones, I had no way of contacting her and asking her to pull over.  When we arrived in Abilene, I asked why?  She calmly said because the road was smoother.

In 1972, friends Mark Nordstrom and Ron Torrence joined me for a four-month journey through Europe in a used car bought in Luxembourg.  There were many lessons in life learned during our travels, but one of the biggest was to make sure we drove in the proper lanes on the Autobahn, Germany’s super high-speed interstate.

We never forgot the first time we saw blinking headlights in our rear view mirror.  This feature hadn’t yet come to American cars of the time.  Even though the lights were blinking far in the distance, it took only once for us to realize the time to get over to the right was NOW for in just seconds a blazing Porsche or some other exotic auto would streak past.  We quickly learned the etiquette of the six lanes.  Trucks stayed right moving only into the center lane to pass.  Once completed, the trucks quickly move back right.  Cars drove in the center lane using the left lane only to pass.  Passing on the right was illegal and heavily fined.

It was amazing how smoothly the traffic moved unlike the frustration everyone faces driving in the States and Kansas.  Here trucks have, for the most part, planted themselves in the center lane.  Cars cruise along in the left lane oblivious to any other traffic.  The weekend of the big NASCAR race in Kansas City, a rented RV in the left lane stumbled along barely going 60 mph.  As many drivers offered the universal signal of friendship while struggling to pass, the drunken passenger in the right lane proudly held his beer can out the window in his own defiant sign of ignorance.  No wonder the words “road rage” is mentioned by the Kansas Highway Patrol in this statement.

“Kansas’ new ‘Right Lane Law,’ which went into effect July 1, makes it illegal to drive in the far left lane of multi-lane highways except when passing or turning left or when instructed to do so by traffic-control devices or officers. The law is designed to reduce road rage and prevent motorists from trying risky maneuvers,” says Trooper Mark Engholm of the Kansas Highway Patrol.

What a shame it is that no one cares and nothing is being done to improve the safety on our roads.  I have no trouble with people driving fast.  My problem is when the selfish driving of others puts all of us, fast and slow, into jeopardy.

Until there are real changes and real enforcement, look for an old black Honda Civic in the right lane just cruising along enjoying what has become the HAV lane.

Catching Up

Hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving.  We have many reasons to be thankful.  Kelly’s return from her internship in Washington, certainly, has been a highlight for us.  She was ready to return, and we surely are pleased to have her back in Topeka.   Good to hear Julie and Kelly picking at each other again.  Sisters!  Her office made this sign for her final day with the League of Conservation Voters.

We started the day with a great church service.  Love the hymns.  Julie and I took Kelly around our church’s newly completed expansion.  Wonderfully done.  Sitting together as a family was very special.  I can’t thank the Lord enough for watching over Kelly during her long stay in Washington.

The girls ate lunch with their mother, so Laura and I got a nap before our traditional Thanksgiving bicycle ride.  Fall isn’t a good cycling time for either of us.  It has been especially bad for Laura this fall.  I knew it wouldn’t be fun for her.  She hasn’t been on her bike for a long time and it was cold and windy.  Not a good combination, but we still had fun.

Upon on return, it was time to cook.  While I don’t consider myself a chef, I can follow recipes well and love to tinker with them as we go.  Laura is willing sous chef.  We might have food everywhere and just about all our pots and pans in use, but we have created some very fine meals.

Julie is easily the pickiest eater ever.  For her to say during dinner that I cook the best and juiciest turkey ever is a compliment that boosts me through the roof.  We have done big birds when Laura’s family has joined us and been very successful.  This year, we bought a huge turkey breast cut from a bird at Herman’s Meat Market.  After brining, a rub heavy with Spanish paprika and other spices coated the skin side.  After some grilling to seal in the spices, the meat was finished off in the oven.  Awesome.  The bird dripped with juice.  A sour orange sauce was a great compliment.

We added mashed sweet potatoes with chipotle peppers along with the traditional mashed potatoes and gravy.  A grilled zucchini and corn succotash was our other new concoction that proved to be a huge hit.  We watched some late college football so that when the tryptophan kicked in, we were ready for bed.  We might have to make a late turkey dinner our annual holiday tradition.

Here is one final reason I have for being so thankful.  Big family dinners like this wouldn’t be possible without Laura.  Laura brought a real sense of family to my life that I haven’t had since my parents passed.   Without her, I doubt I’d be in the kitchen “slaving away.”  Again, I hope and pray you all had a wonderful day.

On to trying to catch up on this and that.

We drove to St. Louis Monday, the 16^th, in a steady rain.  The trip along Missouri’s I-70 corridor is one we always dread.  Even today, the “Gateway City” remains just that.  The traffic heading in both directions is always endless.  I-70 through Missouri has to be one of the most heavily traveled in the country.  It also has to have more billboards per mile.

We stayed at the Sheraton St. Louis City Center.  KU basketball does just about everything high class.  Our suite certainly didn’t disappoint.   While photographing the clash between #1 Kansas and Memphis was our top professional priority, taking Laura out for a first-class dinner ranked #1 with me.

Laura didn’t disappoint.  The dress we bought in Washington was as stunning as I remember.  I hope you can see that from the photos in the gallery.  Two people from the Kansas travel party remarked, after seeing Laura in the dress, that I had “won the lottery.”  Another asked Laura why she had settled for “chopped liver?”  Cold, but probably true.

It was a delight to take Laura to Tony’s.  And, Tony’s didn’t disappoint either.  Carlos our waiter was a great conversationalist.  The food was all finished at table.  Some highlights were Laura’s pumpkin soup with just the right touch of cinnamon.  My escargot were bathed in a delicious sauce.  Salads were wonderfully prepared.  My black-pepper-encrusted sirloin was mouth-watering and tear-rendering.  The pan sauces for Laura’s filet and mine were fabulously rich and calorie-laden.  Rare for us, but worth it.  A good bottle of wine and a sinfully rich chocolate dessert capped a dining experience we truly enjoyed together.  The rest of the evening was just as delightful.

The game proved to very interesting and pointed up just how strong and deep the KU team is this year.  While I heard lots of moaning and groaning from some fans that KU didn’t blow Memphis out, I offer this suggestion to those fans.  Remember what Bill Self said after.  “I don’t get too freaked out over games in November.”  KU fans should do the same.

November basketball is a joke to me.  The games are glorified exhibition games.  Bill Self knows that.  I could go on and on about the differences between Roy Williams and Bill Self for good and bad.  One difference has to be the way the two coaches approached games like the one against Memphis.

Strictly my opinion, but Roy liked to put jigsaw puzzles together.  He had his super stars, but he also tried to find players who fit a specific role.  What that usually meant is that Roy’s teams were ready to destroy teams from the get go and send a message to everyone.

Bill reminds me of the kid in a candy store.  He wants all the sweets and gets most of them.  How he manages to handle all that candy is the great show.  It takes time for all the talent to find their roles and mesh.  Early games are about breaking down acclaimed players so that they all work together.  Sometimes it works well.  Other times it doesn’t.  November is only the beginning.  I can assure you, he loves the challenge.

One cautionary note.  Kinesio Tape began to appear on athletes in the last summer Olympics.  Here is a description.  “Kinesio taping gives support and stability to your joints and muscles without affecting circulation and range of motion. It is also used for preventive maintenance, edema, and pain management.”  Sounds like amazing stuff.   The bottom line is that no one wears it for show though.

I’ve noticed that Sherron Collins is wearing more and more of it each game.  That can’t be good news.  Collins remains the key.

The latter portion of our week included a trip to Austin for the KU football game.  The Mark Mangino drama was huge, but that will have to wait for a separate post.  That is a big subject!

With the late game, we were able to get up early and head for Flip Happy Crepes.  The picture tells it all.  Just a block from the river, this unique outdoor eatery was featured in a “Throwdown with Bobby Flay” episode.  The two women that work out of the Airstream trailer won the challenge and won our hearts.  Laura went for a breakfast crepe.  I took on the Cuban crepe that finished with a wallop of spice.  Fortunately, the Nutella and banana crepe we shared helped calm the tongue.

Next stop was what many cyclists would call Mecca.  Mellow Johnny’s is the huge bike shop Lance Armstrong opened a few years ago.  From the size of the crowd, it obviously has become quite the tourist attraction, and deservedly so.  The selection of every cycling need was Texas big.

Even for non-Lance fans like the two of us, the place rocks.  Seeing many of the bikes he rode to victory was very cool.  Fortunately, our dislike of the man kept us from dropping a wad of money on Mellow Johnny gear.  Watching some of the visiting riders stroll around the shop and its coffee shop café in complete Mellow Johnny kit meant we weren’t threatening to hurt their bottom line.

The nightcap was the game.  Again, Texas big.  Over 100,000 fans.  Biggest video board I’ve ever seen.  Canon blasts after every score, extra point and kickoff.  Yes, it was a blowout, but KU played very hard.

The trip home on the team plane was very quiet, but that is not unusual.  We are often asked about those trips.  People expect the players to be both overjoyed and dancing in the aisles after victories or distraught and bowed after loses.  The best word to use is tired.  Win or lose, players hit their seats, clamp on their headphones and go to sleep.  All the usual flight rules mean nothing.  No seatbacks in the upright position.  No tray tables locked and stowed.  Personal computers and music players are in full use.

The beauty of a KU trip is that the teams fly out of Topeka.  We are home in ten minutes after our bags are thrown in the car.  The photo gallery needs only final touches since most of the work has been completed on the plane.  Our heads hit pillow at 3 a.m.

Now, we are just a day away from the Missouri game and what likely will be Mark Mangino’s final game.  Remember the name Nolan Cromwell!  Missouri will choke and KU will find some magic and win.  Just one man’s opinion.  I’ll be more worried about Colorado getting all fired up for Nebraska game.

Enjoy your Black “Shirt” Friday.

For more photos from St. Louis and Austin, click here.

Nothing Like November

There are lots of things on my mind, but finding the time to put them into actual words is not easy right now.   There is no month quite like November.  Eleven basketball games, four football games and three volleyball matches get squeezed into this month.  Add in softball’s media guide work, some additional women’s golf media guide work and mugs for two of the biggest teams at KU – track & field and baseball – well, you get the idea.

Things seem to blend together into one big colorful mess like the leaves that are stacking up in my yard as there is no time to rake right now.  When a number of game ushers ask if I sleep in my studio since they see me so often, their message isn’t really that funny.  I know after men’s basketball the past Friday night, football on Saturday followed by Sunday women’s basketball and track & field’s many, many mugs – this old body is moving slowly this morning.  What really hits me hard is the production.  I can keep up most of the time.  This isn’t one of those times.  All will get done, and everyone I work with is so very understanding, but I don’t look forward to the hours in front of the computer.

There have been a few highlights with one big and one giant highlight to come.  Professionalism keeps me from commenting on Saturday’s game.  But, if you know me, you know.

I was asked to speak at a communications class at Washburn University, my alma mater this month.  That is the first time I have ever been asked to speak there.  My presentation took place in a lecture hall where I had classes some 37 years ago.  Must have done well enough.  I have been asked to be the keynote speaker at the Communications Department Banquet in April.  I am honored.  I just hope they don’t look at my final GPA before April.  That would be very scary.

I owe my daughter, Julie, for pumping me up to a professor.  Julie has had a great semester and is getting closer to her degree as is her boyfriend at Mississippi State.

The big highlight comes tonight.  If the snow will cooperate, Laura and I drive to St. Louis this afternoon for tomorrow’s KU game against Memphis.  Tonight, I take my wife out to the very fancy restaurant, Tony’s, all dressed up in the beautiful dress we found in Washington this summer.  I can’t wait to see her in it,  will be proud to show her off and will cherish every moment with the woman I love so much.  I promised pictures last summer, and I will deliver.

Then on November 24, Kelly arrives home from six month’s of work in Washington.  Talk about a giant highlight.  It will be fantastic to see her back in Kansas, and I know she is ready to be home.  We’ll have dinner together on Thanksgiving amidst a week of basketball Tuesday, volleyball Wednesday, basketball Friday, football Saturday and basketball Sunday.  Please understand, though, we all know that we have much to be thankful for and will do so with our Savior.

Having Kelly home will just make it more special.  Come November 30, the Kansas Democratic Party head has set up an interview with Kelly about jobs.  No time to rest on past memories.  There are more to come.

Cosmic Running

A narrow beam of light illuminated our path as we bob along.  Our breath formed a light yet steady fog bank in the cooling night.  Turning back to look for us, our dog Rocket’s eyes glowed a devious green.  His black fur hides him almost completely from view.  The stars filling the sky beamed down on us as the full moon gave the trees an eerie glow.  There is no one else save for the creatures we can hear rustling in the tall grass as we race by.  Each foot plant is amplified as we complete one interval run after another.  With daylight savings time ending, our trail runs have become nocturnal.

Petzl headlamps allow us to do this.  These lightweight modern versions of old miner’s lights have allowed us to continue our trail running even in the depths of darkness.  In towns like Boulder, such lights are commonplace for runners and mountain bikers out exploring the foothills west of the city.  Not so around Topeka.

If we didn’t have a dog that lives to run free in the wild or knees that love the soft impact provided by the dirt, grass and ash trails we cruise along, we wouldn’t need these lamps.  Without them, though, Laura, Rocket and I would be lost.

For some years Laura and I have been doing most of our runs in a series of intense intervals broken by short periods of rest.  Many recent studies speak positively on the effects these intervals have on speed and metabolism even for runners of limited abilities like myself.   Laura swears by these intense runs as the key to her fitness.

Once fall and winter arrived though, our runs together came to a screeching halt.  We tried fields around town lit by distant streetlamps with little success.  The footing was too unstable, and we always worried that Rocket might chase an animal into a street.

These lamps were met with skepticism by Laura a year ago, as are most of my schemes initially.  Bless her though, Laura, generally, is always willing to give my flights of fancy a try.  After one evening of slower intervals, we soon found ourselves racing along with complete confidence.  We have only come across one opossum staring at us as we came around a turn, but Rocket has chased all sorts of animals that run hiding into the tall grass lining the trails giving the run an even more otherworldly feel.  Truly, it does feel like cosmic (not comic) running.

The comic part comes when we occasionally drive home with the lights in blinking mode.  That’s when everyone that stares at us at stoplights know while our runs might be otherworldly, our minds are out of this world.

It’s a Yankees’ World

Let the celebration begin.  All is right in the baseball world again.  The Yankees are World Champions.  What fun.  So many great heroes.   Such great games.

Personally, any worries Laura and I might have had about a marital jinx have been wiped away.  We can celebrate together the great Yankees’ victory and look forward to many more.

Sorry all you Yankees haters, there will be more too.  I awake on Wednesday to Mike and Mike on ESPN going on and on about how unfair baseball is because of a lack of revenue sharing and how the NFL has it right.  Funny that just weeks before, the two M’s were all befuddled over the disparity in the NFL over the haves and have-nots.  You have the Rams, the Lions, the Browns, the Buccaneers and more that all stink.  No amount of revenue sharing can make  up for the fact that those teams are badly managed and coached.

The Yankees are already lining the pockets of selfish owners like Dan Glass of the Kansas City Royals through luxury taxes.  The Royals had no difficulty competing against the Yankees back when Ewing Kauffman was willing to spend money.  And, don’t try and tell me that the Royals don’t make money or that Glass of Wal-Mart billions can’t afford to shell out money like the Yankees.  Maybe not quite as much but surely many  times more than they do now.  The problem is that the Royals have no organization in place to use that money well and identify good players anymore.

The fans of the Twins moan and groan, but they are opening a new ballpark next spring.  They’ll have to shell out some serious cash to keep their great catcher Joe Mauer.  Can they afford not to keep a home-town, home-grown player with his skills?  It is assured that the Yankees will be ready to offer whatever for Mauer to allow an aging Jorge Posada to move to DH.  Same goes for Carl Crawford with Tampa.  He’d sure look good roaming centerfield in the Bronx.  The Yankees have no choice, because if they don’t the Red Sox or Mets will.  Remember the Mets have spent millions and got nothing for it.

Let’s also remember that schools like Kentucky, North Carolina and Kansas are using money generated by their great basketball programs to build fabulous facilities to attract recruits.  The purpose is clear.  Win more championships and generate more revenue.  Do fans of  Vanderbilt, Boston College or Iowa State, for example, really believe that they can compete on a regular basis with these basketball powers or ever hope to win National Championships?  No, these powerful schools aren’t buying championships, but the money sure does help build the reputation needed to attract wide-eyed young basketball wonders.  What helps even more are far-sighted athletic directors like KU’s Lew Perkins or great coaches like Bill Self and Roy Williams.  The same can be said of the New York Yankees, their management and their vision.

I will grant you that the TV revenue the Yankees produce helps dramatically, but that points out a major shortcoming of baseball as a whole.  The NFL thrives because of shared television revenue.  The fact that baseball has spread itself so thin on national telecasts can’t help any team.  It doesn’t help that baseball is badly run from the commissioner on down.  As happy as I am right now over the Yankees victory, I already will miss watching such thrilling games as we saw this post season.  However, I will not miss for a second the broadcast teams that various national outlets foist  on helpless fans.  Listening to Joe Buck and Tim McCarver is brutal.  I love their look after games as they sit in their lounge chairs recapping the game as though they were about to fall asleep.  I swear that is exactly how they broadcast games.  Buck lives on his great broadcasting father’s name.  McCarver’s one claim to fame is catching Bob Gibson.  They bring no new insights and certainly no drama in their words.  They act totally bored.  Buck is always mentioning the time coming up on the “East Coast” as if none of us have watches.  What that says to me is that he’d rather be in his hotel room fussing with his hair than broadcasting the compelling action we just saw.  TBS’ Skip Carey and Ron Darling?  Please!

The fact there were more off days in the playoffs than there are in a 162 game regular season points up the pure stupidity of the baseball and its television partners.  Let’s try to make the games long and tedious.  Great way to draw viewers.  Can we squeeze in a few more commercials between innings?  We came home from running last night just as the game began.  I was able to begin cooking dinner between innings.  I showered between innings.  Never missed a pitch.  Help us.

So, all Yankees fans are loving today.  All Yankees haters are crying and screaming.  Just remember this.  Suddenly after some success, a “Red Sox Nation” was formed as if it had existed forever.  There is one particular young Sox fan in the KU media group that loved to come to me whenever his Sox were doing well and the Yankees weren’t.  After the Sox took the first eight games this season against the Yankees, he was always popping off.  Funny how I don’t see him in his little Sox cap anymore, and he has nothing to say.  There is a line in A League of Their Own for him and that little cap.

In World War II when the Japanese on some isolated island in the vast Pacific tried to upset the American troops, they yelled “F–K Babe Ruth!”  There might be some little Red Sox Nation now.  Sorry baseball, it will always be A YANKEES’ WORLD.

On Cheerleaders, Dorothy, Toto, Earl and Fat Girlfriends

Quick follow up on last Friday’s post on traveling throughout the Big 12.

Someone asked, after reading the post, why I spent so much time mentioning cheerleaders on the sidelines.  Attached are two photos from Saturday’s game that I hope will clear up the question.  The dashed line on the sidelines is the line of demarcation for photographers we are not to cross.

As you can see cheerleaders are taking up most of the space along the sidelines.  One photo shows there is plenty of room for the cheerleaders to take a few steps away from the line and be closer to the fans.  Sadly, that just doesn’t happen.  There are a few photographers between the cheerleaders and bench area.  I can assure you that they are very limited by the bench crowd.  Working space is getting very, very limited.  Hope that clears up the question.

It was disappointing that more fans weren’t in costume Saturday for Halloween.  I expected many more.  One sure sign you can always count on when Kansas plays on the road is the overused line about Dorothy and Toto “not being in Kansas anymore.”  That surely gets old.  At least one Tech fan took the old cliché to a higher level with his Dorothy costume.

Received this comment from former Capital-Journal and Lawrence Journal-World photographer Earl Richardson – Good stuff. I too loved covering games at A&M. The last time I was there (late 1990s, early 2000s), I took a wrong turn on the way to the field and ended up in a hallway with the A&M team, as they were about to run onto the field. I apologized and tried to leave the hallway, but the team was seconds from running onto the field and a player put his arm around my shoulder and insists that I must run onto the field with them. So, out I go with the Aggies, running through a human tunnel of cheerleaders and students. I look up, and there I am on the jumbotron in the south end zone. I started high-fiving students and cheerleaders. As I get to about the 20-yard line, I break away and head for the sidelines. I see an asst SID. I’m thinking I’m going to get my butt chewed. All he does is smile, shake my hand, and say, “welcome to Texas A&M. How’s that for making you feel at home.”

His “Rudyesque” memory is a perfect example of why photographers are so blessed in life.  Crazy little moments like Earl’s come up all the time.   When we try to tell people about them, it either kills them that things like that don’t happen to them or they just don’t believe us.  Trust me, they are true, and I thank the Lord they are just that.

Earl no longer works full-time as a photographer.  He got smart, went back to school, got a law degree and is now a Lawrence attorney.  Since photographers are always accused of being the lowest form of scum next to lawyers, the move was a short trip for Earl.  Since he is a faithful reader of and commenter on my feeble writing efforts, I assume he could really use a few more cases.

Seriously, I have worked with or alongside Earl as long as any other photographer.  While I have worked with many more acclaimed photographers, Earl would be right there with them.  When he was with the LJ-W, I always knew I had to step up my efforts.

I can assure you the sidelines, the end lines at basketball courts or the photo bays at a Major League baseball games are filled with some of the most competitive people you’ll ever meet.  I love the competition.  I knew I had to be on top of my game, and I thank Earl and others for their challenge.  A portion of Monday is always devoted to photographers checking out papers and web sites to see what others did at games.  Don’t let any photographer try to fool you.  There is some chest pumping when you find you have topped the competition.

There was a lot of discussion this past week about Tech coach Mike Leach’s comments about his players’ “fat girlfriends.”  Leach is crazy funny.  There was way too much over reaction by others.  I’ll get in trouble with Laura over this, but Tech has the best looking coeds in the Big 12 by far.  Anyway, a photograph taken only as “scientific evidence” that they are not all fat.

Finally, GO YANKEES!  One more.

Traveling Around the Big 12

Heading off to Lubbock Friday afternoon with the KU football team.  Sadly, Laura is staying behind to help cover senior day for soccer and the opening two days of KU swimming and diving home season.  Certainly will miss my grand travel partner. A big part of the fun my work allows is traveling to various Big 12 cities often with Laura.  Thought I’d share my rather peculiar looks at each of the schools starting in the Deep South heading north.

Texas A&M: Easily the best spectacle in the Big 12.  The troops marching into the stadium, the male Aggie yell leaders dressed all in white with their unique and confusing cheers, guys kissing their dates after each A&M score and the mascot collie, Reveille.

Reveille is very special. Considered a cadet general and the highest-ranking member in the Corps of Cadets, if Reveille decides to sleep on a cadet’s bed, that cadet is required to sleep on the floor.  By tradition, if Reveille barks in class, that session is cancelled.  The last time KU visited, Reveille VII was just coming off probation for nipping its handler and for unruly barking (bet the cadets didn’t mind some classes being cancelled though) which forced an early retirement.  Reveille VIII awaits KU’s next visit.

Since I’d rather not drive to College Station, my explorations have been limited.  I’ve seen a lot of College Station though.  Standing in the press box, which seems high enough to actually be in space, you can see the curvature of the earth off in the distance of the flat Texas plains.  Very cool.

Texas Tech: Always the greatest welcome in the Big 12 if you can stand the heat.  A heckler that has done research greets every player and coach.  Even the wives take some heat.  Rips everyone.

I’m told there are great parts of Lubbock that I haven’t seen, but as far as I am concerned once you’ve done the Buddy Holly Museum, you’ve seen all you need to see.  Outside of football and a brief basketball run with Bob Knight, Tech has to be the worst overall athletic school in the Big 12.

My favorite moment at Tech had to be the KU upset in 2001.  Former football player/basketball player and troubled soul Mario Kinsey quarterbacked KU to an overtime victory.  It also was the season former AD Al Bohl fired Terry Allen with three games left in season.  It was well known Bohl wanted Allen out.  The sight of him having to shake Allen’s hand after the overtime victory and the look on his face was classic.

Texas: Starting the night before with the nightlife along Sixth Street, a visit to Austin and Texas always seems too unreal to me.  Bevo, their longhorn steer mascot, always looks completely drugged to me.  Everything is too big.

There used to be a track around the field.  Pulling that up, the space became a giant pasture.  It seemed as though the fans were in another county.  I understand the stands have been moved in much closer now.  We’ll have to see how that works for photography with all their cheerleaders and big timers that float in front of the camera at the worst times while craning for a view.  Of course the site of some of their female cheerleaders wearing chaps makes up for some of the inconvenience.

Baylor: Right off the bat you can’t get a Coke at the stadium.  Waco is the home of Dr. Pepper.  I can’t relate too much to you about Waco.  Often we have driven to Dallas to see Laura’s parents before driving to Waco just for the game.  Friends Mason Logan and Beau White swear by the Crazy Wings and Big O beers at Georges.  One of these years, we’ll make it.

Oklahoma: Laura’s alma mater.  I grew up despising OU as a Nebraska fan.  Since Laura and I have been together, I have made my peace with them because Laura does love being a Sooner.  Her best line ever?  “Isn’t the campus beautiful?  It is so flat.”  Flat?  Beautiful?  I love her.

What she will agree with me is that OU is cheerleader hell.  Can any school have so many cheerleaders taking up so much space?  The Roughnecks, their male yell leading group, and their booming guns are painful.  You used to have to climb into the stands to get from one end to the other.  Now you have to do a shimmy dance behind the benches and retaining walls.

Shooting a game at Oklahoma led me to ask KU and my boss for an expensive 600mm telephoto lens since shooting at any Big 12 southern school is very limited due to the space and the old Southwestern Conference love of cheerleaders.  I didn’t get too far.  I later came back and asked for the same lens since we needed it for the Laura’s overhead photos during NCAA basketball games.  I had the lens the next week.  Enough said.

I do like the Boomer Schooner, but I’ll never forget the year it rolled over at the Orange Bowl.  That’s the Husker in me still coming out.

The Border Crossing, sadly closed now, had great Mexican food.  Loved watching Laura’s father swallow freshly cut jalapenos like candy always claiming he’s had hotter.  LaLuna in Campus Corners is now our favorite.

Oklahoma State: The bathrooms in the press box are paneled in leather.  The stalls are solid wood.  There is a basket at each sink filled with toiletries.  The only thing missing is an attendant.  Why couldn’t T Boone Pickens have saved a few million on the bathrooms and opened up the sidelines just a bit.  Besides the plethora of cheerleaders, there is just no room to shoot.  Painful.  But, it is hard to beat Eskimo Joes for burgers and fries, and the Hideaway might have the Big 12’s second-best pizza.

Colorado: I’ve made it clear how much we love visiting Boulder, but then we get home and look at the Weather Channel to see heavy snows like this week.  Arizona looks better and better for retirement.  I never sense any real football passion at Colorado unless they are winning big.  Even though you have to climb into the stands to get behind the benches, it isn’t too hard for work.  The old basketball fieldhouse is attached to the stadium on the west side.  Super old, super small.  Scares me to think I shot basketball in that barn.

The highlight always is the best live animal mascot in all sports.  Nothing matches Ralphie, the buffalo, storming out of its pen dragging his handlers around the field in a near futile attempt for control.  Way back when, I saw Ralphie get away from all but a few handlers.  Watching Ralphie toss them around like rag dolls was a site never forgotten.  What an animal.  How I wish I could have seen buffalo roam the plains.

Kansas State: They used to have the best milk in the world.  In their old trailer press box, KSU had an old milk machine.  You’d lift the big handle and out would come the coldest, richest milk.  For all I know it had been drawn from cows right across the street.  Of course you can smell those same cows when you are in the stadium with a north wind.  What I like is that they don’t really care.  Their fans are fine being country.  They are the tailgating champions of the Big 12.  Harley Day I’m sure is scheduled for KU’s visit next week.

Everyone knows the story of their rise from the depths to the heights under Bill Snyder and then falling after he left only to amazingly rise again with Snyder back at the helm.  Sidelines once were barren for work.  Then they got completely out of control as victory-starved freeloaders were everywhere.  Recent visits have been pretty sane.  Things could be wild again in a week.

Once, a high school friend in a total stupor came down out of the stands to accost referees on the field for what he believed was a bad call.  Amazingly he was simply sent back to his seat in the stands.  Back then, KSU needed every fan they could get.  At least I had no trouble IDing the photos for the paper.

Kansas: Easily the best sidelines in the Big 12.  Plenty of room.  The cheerleaders understand their job is to cheer for the fans and not stand watching the game.  Sure, I’m prejudiced, but it really is a great place to work now that fans fill the stands for great backgrounds.

Big Jay is cool.  I now know the guys inside the suit.  They are generally crazy but lots of fun.  Never been a fan of Baby Jay.  I died laughing at the site of the ransom note sent by students that kidnapped Baby Jay years ago.  The black tape over the eyes and mouth was hilarious.

The setting of the stadium is wonderful.  I wish tents didn’t completely line the hill.  I used to love looking up to the hill and see the fans watching games on blankets in peace and harmony.  The smoke of today’s grills used to be the smoke from a lot of weed back in the 70’s.  I doubt a huge peace rally could be held in the stadium today as it was back then.  I loved Lawrence when it really was weird.

Missouri: What makes KU playing Missouri in Arrowhead every year great?  Not having to drive to Columbia every other year on some of the worst Interstate in the United States.

The best sight in the Big 12?  Easily the empty seats in the stadium as Missouri falls behind in the second half.  I have never seen fans exit faster.  I’ve seen a lot of games in my years with KU when the stadium was virtually empty as early as the third quarter.

I had to swing my monopod once to protect a girlfriend from unruly fans.  Former football media relations director Mason Logan came out to his Chevy Blazer after a game to find nylon rope tied throughout his front suspension.  My car has been urinated on every night at the team hotel.  A MU student once swore he was going to wait for me after the game to “kick your ass.”  He was long gone, along with most of the fans, in the fourth quarter. I miss that fun.

I also miss Shakespeare Pizza.  It doesn’t get better than that.  And, that is about the only good thing I can say.

Iowa State: The team always stays in Des Moines, so Ames is the biggest mystery for me.  It does seem like RV heaven though with very loyal fans, and I’m told some great barbecue.  During the Terry Allen years, Laura worked as the academic advisor for football.  At one particularly cold and blustery game late in the season, she had on so much blue, cold weather KU gear she looked like the cutest little Smurf I have ever seen.  Sorry, folks.  Nothing more.

Nebraska: Gee, wonder why I saved Lincoln for last?  Let’s get the bad out of the way first.  The sidelines are incredibly tight.  The end zone “knot hole” section, from where I saw my first Husker game when I was eight, has become their handicapped area.  You can’t shoot in front of these fans and all the local photographers have squatting rights for the few end zone areas.

There used to be an old man that actually sat on the sidelines in full fan gear in the early 70s.  I once asked why and was told the man that helped recruit Johnny Rodgers sat wherever he wanted.  Couldn’t argue with that.

The stadium itself is now ridiculous.  I love the fact they preserved the old portions of the stadium, but most seats added when the glory years began were in the end zones.  Then they added a monstrous suite area and press box and other additions after that.  Everyone likes to mention that when the stadium is full it’s the third biggest city in Nebraska.  As you drive up to the stadium now, it doesn’t look like a pretty city.  Laura agrees that Oklahoma’s stadium looks much the same.

However, once inside, there is no prettier site my eyes have ever seen.  I still get chills every time the band plays and the red balloons rise to the heavens after the first score.  Herbie Husker sucks, but Lil’ Red is the best non-live mascot going.  I do love my time there.

I could go on and on.  Visiting my aunt and uncle is very special.  Give me the fish burrito from OSO Burrito, and I am one happy man.  Now if only Nebraska could find some offense.

That’s probably enough about the Big 12 from the eye of a very offbeat photographer.  Hope you enjoyed the trip.

Ben Folds at Liberty Hall

A Bad Phone Photo from a Great Show

What a show!  Ben Folds in Lawrence’s Liberty Hall last night was an absolute delight.  Worth every penny and more.  Folds went virtually non-stop for over two hours playing 26 songs in his main set with three more in his encore.  With a pleasing opening act, the evening ran over three hours.

Trying to describe a Ben Folds show is very difficult.  How do you quantify the ceaseless energy the 43-year-old Folds brings to any stage?  How do you explain the seemingly autobiographic (and a bit too graphic) lyrics that resonate somewhere in the hearts of every person in attendance?  And, finally, how do you describe one of the most accomplished and fascinating pianists in the world?

Don’t miss a chance to see Ben Folds, ever.  Laura and I have been fortunate to see Folds now three times in the past two years.  All shows were great.  Last night’s easily topped them all.  Playing solo for all but one song shared with his opening act, Folds’ songs ranged from his unique ballads to classic kicking numbers that had the crowd pounding and bounding along in delight.

I have no idea what the half-life is for a baby grand piano, but I am sure it is halved again when Folds finishes a show.  If the show was a cartoon, just imagine the piano’s legs splaying out, the piano crashing to the stage in a cloud of dust and the piano giving up a big, worn out WH-E-E-E-W!!!

Whether Folds was seated on a drummer’s stool playing classical interludes for his songs or standing hunched over the keys hammering away so powerfully you’d think his fingers would break or finally standing on that baby grand leading the audience in a harmonic ending to the main set, Folds proved to be as charismatic as ever.  Having learned to play by ear, and influenced by the piano skills of Billy Joel and Elton John in his youth, Folds’ keyboard skills are what make the shows for us.  I could never tire listening to Folds’ play the piano with such exuberance.

This show was as intimate as a Folds’ concert can get these days. Earlier, Folds had twittered asking about the best place to eat breakfast.  My youngest daughter immediately tweeted back, along with many others, suggesting Milton’s.  That is where he ate, later thanking all those for the suggestion.  Folds recalled his early shows at the Bottleneck pushing his piano into the popular Lawrence club.  He worked with the crowd often.  When someone, comically, yelled out for “Freebird,” Folds immediately broke into his own personal version creating lyrics on the fly.

Ben Folds, photographer

The opening act was Australian singer Katy Miller-Heidke and her husband guitarist, Keir Nuttall.  The classically-trained singer turned alternative pop singer was a big hit with her hilarious take on an old love asking many years later to be a Facebook friend and Heidke’s blunt response.  The duo joined Folds for one song.  At the conclusion, Folds pulled out a camera (a sweet digital Leica, I think) and staged hilarious photos of the crowd’s positive and negative reaction to songs for the visiting Aussies.

Fans had formed an early line outside Liberty Hall.  After only a short wait, we still were able to easily get some of the best seats in the balcony with plenty of legroom, in a concession to age.  Once those standing in the aisle in front of us were moved, the sight lines were perfect.  The only interruption was the big guy heading to the bar five times for two Pabst Blues Ribbons on each trip.

We are no experts on a Ben Folds song catalog.  We also have lost any ability to pick out all the lyrics on newer or unfamiliar songs.  Yet, there were plenty of classic hits and some new and very funny tunes we look forward to hearing again and again.

In these tighter economic times, we have to make some tougher decisions on our spending.  Earlier this fall, after a fun evening at my 40^th high school reunion, we decided to pass on some of the more expensive options offered for the rest of the weekend.  I’m glad we decided to spend our funds on Ben Folds tickets instead.

The show made me feel 18 again.  With apologies to my high school friends, none of you have the Ben Folds chops to make me feel that way again.

You can view Ben Folds’ Liberty Hall set list here.