It is March 2009 and this is my first blog post of the year--Sorry, So, what can I write about in the last three months since the last post? I am not going to fib. The Real World (not to be confused with the MTV Reality series) sucks, plain and simple. It's everyone for themselves. The fight is ALWAYS on and the real world separates the women and men from the girls and boys. Some grow up quickly and mature, while others, unfortunately, take more time to reconsider their behavior. The question is how to adapt to the new environment and make it worthwhile. I grew up quickly a day after Christmas.
On a chilly, rainy night of Dec. 26th, I was sititng at a local bar called Koscuisko's with my friend Dave, his father, Mark, Mark's beer buddy, Henry, or Hud, and Dave's Uncle and cousin. Before we sat, Henry was selling raffle tickets for a dollar to help benefit the bar, I believe. Nothing out the ordinary. The ticket had five random numbers behind five individial strips of paper and the drawing was set for 8:00 P.M. A half hour before the drawing, I have noticed the other fellow barmates opening their raffle tickets. I did the same. Dave stopped me in my tracks.
"Do not open the ticket just yet." he said.
"Why not?" I replied.
"Because it is not time yet. " he rebuttled.
"Dude, it is my ticket. I bought it with my own money. I can do whatever I damn well please with it!" I answered.
Mark leans over to Dave, "What is the matter?"
"Travis is being smart with me." At this point, I started to steam a bit.
"Being smart with you! Being smart with you! Listen here, I am sick and tired of you telling me what to and not to do. I am sick and tired of me playing second fiddle to you. I have had it."
I quickly became enraged with anger and frustration. Why is he telling me what to do? I do not do that to him. Why he has the audacity to do it to me? This may seem trivial, but this was the turning point in our friendship. I looked at him straight in his shocked, but bewildered eyes. Steam was coming out of my ear. My eye twitched, desperately wanting to knock his teeth down his throat. I refrained. I refrained becuase if I did take a swing, what would that prove? It would prove to me being kicked out of the bar unceremoniously by the barmates. I did not want to endore that treatment.
"Get out of here right now!" Dave ordered.
I rose up from my stool, laid the raffle ticket down on the bar, grabbed my raincoat, and stormed out of the bar fuming. I talked angrily to myself, cursing to Dave for his actions. It did not make any sense. I walked on the drenched, puddle-filled roads of Mount Pleasant back home, telling and calming myself down that everything will be alright once things cooled down. Half block away from home, I walked around the outside primeter of an Ace Hardware store when I received a text message from Dave. It said, "Why in the F*uck did you do that? You are such a f*cking loser. A true man would hit the other man if something bothered him that much! Oh, by the way, you owe Dad money for the beer tonight and me money for the last time we were at the bar! If you do not have it by the end of tonight, I will come down to kick your ass!" I thought, "Oh, great! He is threatening me now because I left the bar with my pride in tact all behind the confort of a cell phone. What a man he is!" I replied his text message, "You will have the money by the end of tonight. Stop with calling me names. This is totally pointless! I do not want to be associated with a sex hound! This friendship is over!"
I ran home, almost hyperventilating, still trying to calm myself down. Couple minutes later, I resumed back outside in the monsoon, with my glasses fogging up, and holding a wet, dying cell phone. As I marched towards his house, I slowly began to realize that our friendship was nearing its conclusion. I became emotional because Dave was first friend when I moved to Mount Pleasant 13 years ago and became almost like a brother. He was my brother at tiimes. We attended the same high school together. I watched him play Final Fanatsy on the PlayStation. We bowled every Saturday in a League. He taught everything i needed to know about bowling. However, we were heading into two different paths. I wanted a plan that consisted of starting my career and getting on foot professionally. Dave wanted to take it one day at a time, but mostly having "fun" along the way. His vision of fun includes going to the bar nightly and taking booty calls. Sorry, not my cup of tea. He wanted to create his own version of me and I did not allow that to happen. No two people are alike. His personal values clashed with mine. I stood up for mine. Sobbing and nearly blinded, I approached his porch, stuck a twenty in the mailbox, and left for home. My cell died completely on the return trip home. It needed to be air-dried out for a few hours. When the cell was operational again, I received a text from Dave, as he called me names and threatened me once again. I replied for the final time stating the friendship is over. This is immature. I do not want to talk to you again. Dec. 26th was the last day we spoke to each other. I have no intention in speaking with Dave again.
I learned that friends do not last forever. Friendships, regardless of length, should be a fifty-fifty partnership. Both should share similar ideas, thoughts, and tolerate one's dislikes about one another. Dave disrespected me as a person and depreciated what I have done for him. I stood by him as things got tough. I listened to every gripe he had to say. I sacrificed quality study time to listen to him, sobbing on the phone about his break-up. I felt as time progressed he took me for granted. Friends do NOT order others in what to do. We are humans and prone in making mistakes. Making mistakes builds tremendous character. I had my fairshare of them, but I learned from each one. Friends can influence your decisions in life, but you are the one in proceeding those choices.
I cannot stand Valentine's Day! Aghhh! Valentine's Day stands for overcommericalization of candies and roses, writing sappy, mindless love poems in cards, and high anticipation for making whoopie with your sweetie! This holiday makes me want to vomit. I was single, still single, once again. I am not picky, just keeping my options open. Women are indeed a complicated species. Some want the nice guy. Some want the badboy. Some may want the feminine type, or others may want a combination of personalities. I cannot figure out what makes them tick. I do know that they want to be secure and safe when they are with a man. Valentine's Day gives the man to showcase his romantic side or softer side to his hard exterior. Likewise, a woman can demonstrate her affection for him and why he is so special to her. But, why do you need a sappy holiday, like Valentine's Day, to show admiration and love for one another? I believe you are in a serious relationship with a significant other, show them EVERY DAY your affection. Do something creatively to show you are on their minds. A simple act of kindness for them might do the trick. I am not a love guru, but it's a suggestion. Do not leave it for occasions like Christmas or waiting for Cupid to spark the fire. When I do see a couple in love, I get discouraged because I do want a long-term relationship. However, at this juncture, I need to take care of myself and get afloat professionally before I fish in the waters. I can look, but I cannot touch! I have been burned before in finding that match, and I do want to be hasty in my decisions. There are a couple of prospects out there, but I will save that for a future post.
Speaking of the day of adorable, underwearing, Cupid, that crazy love dude sent me the weirdest arrow I ever received. The week of February 16th started out peculiar and stayed that way. First of all, on Monday, I was waken up by the garbage truck at 8:30 am. The garbage truck arrived approximately four ahead of schedule. It threw me a freaking curve ball and I struck out missing! Later on that day, I received an email from Waste Management, the garbage company that routinely picks up the garbage. They were looking for an assistant driver helper, aka the person that stands on the itty, bitty platform on the back of the truck. Irony, far out, but no thanks.
Tuesday afternoon arrives as I check my latest news on Facebook. I received notice indicating someone sent me a flirt on an application called Zoosk. Usually Zoosk sends you flirts persuading to connect with people around your area. This flirt was not anywhere near my hometown. It was not even remotely close to the Commonwealth. Irving, TX was the unfortunate location of the flirt. Irving, Texas houses the Dallas Cowboys and I dispise the franchise with a passion! Since I was already having a crazy week, I obiliged to go ahead because the person included her email address. I sent the recipient by short autobiography and waited anxiously for a reply. A few hours later I got my wish. The good news, the recipient is a woman. The bad news, she is not from Texas. She hails from Nigeria! Yes, Nigeria! African country Nigeria! This "woman" named Grace Jones, to generic of a name, if you ask me, has a Master's Degree, age 26, and wants a long-term relationship. Here is the back story. Back in November, Grace and her then boyfriend, Dave, traveled to Nigeria to visit Dave's uncle. They rented a hotel room because the uncle was out of town. Grace was looking forward to the trip and was excited to spend quality time with her man. That was not Dave's plan at all. It was more of an evil, sick, diabolical plan. On New Year's Eve, Dave drugged Grace and took all her money, most of her luggage, and left her with the outstanding hotel bill. I received this outrageous story all in the first email! Reading the email was extremely painful because the unfortunate content touched me, but the composition was equally painful to decipher. Near the end of the email, she said she owed the hotel $550. She needs to pay it to retrieve her passport and her return flight expires next week.
She signs the email by including 11 pictures of her. I looked at the pictures and was captivated by her. She stood about 5'5" with smooth, straight, long black hair, brown eyes, curvaceous body, and plush lips. Her rump and chest complimented her entire body too. She was a Puerto Rican desent, as a bonus. As you can tell by the descriptions, I really wanted to help. We exchanged emails by me conforting her, telling her that everything will be alright, and describing to her what I want in a relationship. I have noticed, with each resonding email, she increasingly pushes me to send her money to get her out of the country. I talked to the one person I can talk without being over ridiculed, my dad. I revealed to him the whole story. Dad warned me to be very careful. Nigeria is notorious for setting up money scams. I was nieve to believe him. I secretly went ahead with a plan. I communicated to her that I will send to her a fraction of the debt. I even pawned off my favorite gold chain with a Steelers charm. I hope that isn't an omen! I contacted Western Union to set up a money transfer. Fortunately for me, my mistake was my second chance. I realized I am sending money to a person I barely met. I am uncertain if she does exist and I am afraid it is a complicated scam. The next Monday, I sent Grace a final email wishing her luck. I tried valiantly to help, and I cannot continue to progress.
Be careful of who you talk too on the Internet. The internet is a tricky character. It allows people to conceal their own identities and they try to persuade you in helping them, usually for money. I dodged a bullet, but it could been much worse. Love, along with the lovable goofball, Cupid, are slithe and tricky. Do not let love get the best of you. There is someone for everyone, but keep your eyes open!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Travis' Top 12 Most Influential People other than his family
The end of the 2008 calendar year is upon us, and almost every television network at some point will have a countdown show to celebrate their moments of the year. In spirit of that, here are my top 12 most influential people, so far. All of these people share a piece of my heart and I could not even think what I would do without them. The list was very hard and frustrating to construct. If you are reading this, and your name is not on the list. I am truly sorry. I cannot please everyone. Read and enjoy.
The Top 12 Most Influential People in Travis' Eyes:
12. Betsy Kreger and Leeanne Mancini, My Two Favorite Female Friends--I met Betsy through Ashley, a former girlfriend of Adam's, an individual you will meet later on. What struck about Betsy was that she demonstrates motherly instincts. I know she will probably kill me when I mention this! :P She has roommates that, at times, would cause her to go completely insane because of their antics. Almost every day, I would have breakfast with her. And almost every day, she would boister why her friends are driving her mad. I did find humor in her rants, along with her displeasures about some of her English professors. I told myself, "Man, she is going to be a great mother someday." I appreciated her company because not only she was nice, kind, and attentive to me, but also tolerated my rants and complaints about life in the Department. If I saw someone, for example, conduct something stupid and moronic, the next day at breakfast, she helped me regain some of my intelligence back. If I have a longer, committed relationship, Betsy prepared me in absorbing all of the complaints and drama from the significant other. Leeanne Mancini is my favorite cheerleader of all-time! She helped me in changing my overall opinion about cheerleaders in general. Before I met her, I thought every cheerleader was stuck up, airheaded, and did every guy imaginable. I know that is mean, but thankfully, I do not think like a pompous jackass anymore. I was working in the laundry room during my senior year and dragged a bag of laundry along the floor. The weight room was adjacent to the laundry room, but I had to go through it to the women's locker room to drop off their laundry. Leeanne worked in the weight room and she smiled at me and I smiled back. After I dropped off the laundry, I introduced myself formally, even though she already knew me. We started talkin and enjoyed each other's company. From that day and on every Tuesday and Thursday, I would visit her in the weight room. What captivated me about her was her curly and free-flowing hair. Her smile went for miles and miles, and she greeted every person that she knew. Even if she did not, she will greet them anyway. She treated people with respect, an attribute I really admire in anyone. We shared some common interests, we both football and the Steelers. I really appreciate to have her as a friend because she also helped me in refining my listening skills. I think your listening skills are enhanced when you are listening to people that truly matter. I tell myself, "Boy, she would be a great girlfriend for a guy because she is caring, smart, fun, has a great sense of humor, and tries to not take life seriously." I knew we had a special friendship when I arrived the Wiley Stadium for a Prep Rally as part of Homecoming. She was on the sideline preparing for the routine with her cheerleading friends. She was shivering on the sideline, as the temperature dipped. As I saw her for the first time in few months, she warmed with glee. I looked down at her and she looked at me and I saw a sparkle in her eye. "Travis! You came! You came! I am so glad that you came!" I felt great to see her once again and the expression on her face made me feel great and bubbily inside.
11. Michelle Yackovich, Mount Pleasant Head Trainer and her Student Staff--Michelle was the head honcho, or honcha ( I think that is a word?). If I became dramatic or a worry wart, she would be the one to bring me back to Earth. I communicated to her what she needed on the equipment bus before every away game. If I did not, my head was hers. She's tough, somewhat imitidating, and does not take crap from anyone. If you gave the proper respect to her, she will return the favor. I might have lost my head if I did not have her to keep me in line. Her assistant trainers during my tenure kept me company during the road trips. Every single one of them demonstrated character and their maturity makes their beauty more complete. Michelle, do not listen to what Cecil says. The green golf cart is yours and always will be, if so not already.
10. Coach Mark Lyons--If you have read my first entry of ny blog, I showed much disdain for Coach Lyons. Lyons coached my high school team during my sophomore, junior, and senior years--compling a 8-23 record in that span. Coach Lyons did indeed put fear into his players eyes and made the football booster feel uneasy with his tyrantic demeanor. His "tough love" strengthened my skin. I tolerated it a lot, to the point where I wanted to throw the water bottles down and walk away. I did not. I did not because managing was my only gateway to be with the team and enjoy the sport, for free. Even though, I did not see firsthand Coach Lyons appreciated my commitment, I knew deep down he would become even more agitated if he did not have someone help him with the equipment. Coach Lyons may not have a lot of people on his side. His ruthless aggression towards me taught me that people will ride on you to get stuff accomplished. It is up to you to how to react to it and push through to get it done.
9. Coach Rick Shepas and Staff--Coach Rick Shepas became Waynesburg's football head coach in the Summer of 2005. His bald head can be seen a mile away (HAHAHAHA! :)). You might mistake him as Mr. Clean, but he is a teddy bear at heart. From my relationship with him, we developed a strong working relationship. He never declined for an interview. His answers were fresh and never stale. He understood and valued the role of the media. He cooperated with all the student media, and appreciated their efforts. He is a leader because he takes the time and energy in getting to know the players and their backgrounds. That is an attribute of a true coach. His staff is a branch from Coach Shepas, most notably, Jason Falvo. Coach Falvo was the first coach I met during my school visitation and convinced me to join the team as a student manager. Both, along with all the other members of the staff, invited me as Honorary Captain during Senior Day, to honor my dedication and commitment to the team. It is a day I will NEVER EVER forget and it felt really good to run through the sign and lead the team to the field!
8. Coach Dennis Miscik, Coach Dave Capozzi, and the rest of the Baseball Staff--A former minor league pitcher from the Houston Astros organization, Dennis Miscik coached the Mount Pleasant varsity team during my freshman, sophomore, and junior years. His knowledge and business-like demeanor was very essential to the team's success that produced playoff appearances in all three years. He was vital in teaching me the intracies of scoring a baseball game. His successor, Dave Capozzi, taught me to be emotional and love what you do, as he demonstrated those attributes while coaching. I have had both Coach Capozzi and Miscik as teachers and I appreciated their knowledge of baseball, their teachings, and their love for the game.
7. Scott Giacobbi, social studies instructor, basketball and football coach--He stands tall, black-haired, possesses a miltary-type physique. In fact, he did serve in the United States Army. His demeanor in the classroom was fierce, but fair. He demended your attention and cooperation, trademarks of a drill sargant. Mr. Giacobbi believed in me as a student, when I had the distinct pleasure of him as a teacher beginning in the eigth grade. His process was relatively simple: partcipate, ask questions, be attentive, and I will be fair to you, gradewise. I remember vividly of what he wrote in my quote book during my last day of senior high school, proceed and suceed. He was also influential in easing me into student managing, since I cannot play the sport of basketball worth a damn.
6. Bob Gumbita, US History instructor, defensive coordinator of football team--Plain and simple, Mr. Gumbita was a kid at heart. He kept the student body spiritually alive. At times, I thought he was one of us. But, when he needed to, he put on his teaching cap, and taught. He helped me unleash my spirit and love for the school, even though the majority of the body dispised it.
5. Andrea Tomer, a fellow colleague and ex--I met Andrea in person during a school visitation during my junior year. I represented the radio station at a booth and she was the only one that came to it. She's small in stature, about 4'11", but has a huge heart of gold. She has the attributes that I admire in a girl, kind, respect, hard-working, motivated, and sweet. I aided her, for the most part, in the transition from high school to college. I adviced her of everything that she needed to know, good or bad, about the Department of Communication from my prospective. She is one of the first people I mentored. We developed a strong bond for each other and eventually dated during my senior year. Unfortunately, our short and abrupt relationship halted due to our discrepandacy in age and in schedule demands. We still remain good friends and I talk to her when we are both available. She gave me the opportunity to scope what makes a woman tick. Andrea, I have no doubt that you will become the next Katie Couric. I hope you land with Fox News than with CBS.
4. Mark and Luke Payson, Dan Wozniak--This trio do live in the name of the Lord. They are all avid baseball fans and I had a great time reconnecting with them during Homecoming. They are genuine, kind, respectful, funny, and caring Mark and Luke helped me build a foundation on my understanding of the Bible. Mark has helped me in every possible form imaginable. He calls me occasionally to check out how am I doing. He guided me in survival in Intro to Philosophy, as he and Mark painstakingly prepared study notes for me to help comprehend the material. Mark and Luke, became my mentors, as I matured throughout my tenture at Waynesburg University. They made sure I succeeded as well-rounded individual and I became a model for others. Dan and I are good friends and former colleagues from the Department. We clicked because we are both loyal Pittsburgh Pirate fans and we shared the same frustrations the Department were going through. He taught me to keep at it with your aspirations and dreams. Your talent will soon be noticed, but it will take time and effort to reach that pinnacle. This trio's love for people is truely unmatched and thank them every day for their unconditional support.
3. Adam Smith--My best friend, sidekick, and roommate--I cannot even find an good adjective to describe Adam. I call him "Mini Me" because his short in stature both length and width wise, but we both possess an urge to succeed. We both overcame adversity and both connected in that respect. If you talk to other individuals from the University, he and I are synoymous with one another. Our thoughts are almost identical that it is scary! We became roommates during our sophomore year and the rest is history. I have never met anyone that can relate the struggles that I have gone through in order to be accepted. He had multiple heart surgeries and was a former Make-a-Wish kid. His perseverance, positive attitude, and 'Never Say Die" attitude made an impact on me and on others who have known him. Dude, after a few years of you complaining of how biased the Pittsburgh sports media is, I can concur.
2. Coach Tom Traynor, Bill Hurst, and Jim Beranek--These three coached the Mount Pleasant basketball team during my sophomore, junior, and senior years. They are my adopted grandfather, father, and uncle. Coach Traynor reminds me of the great Phil Jackson, an eight-time winning head coach of the Chicago Bulls and the Los Angeles Lakers. An elderstateman of the trio, he possesses a smooth and tranquil demeanor, almost zenlike. His teachings on the court were so articulated that I stood in awe. But, when he needed to show his displeasure about a call, he did not hesitate. Coach Hurst is truly an awesome guy because he took the opportunity in getting to know me and my background. All three of the coaches protected me, but he protected me the most. He is the one that provided me motivation and guidance. To show his admiration, he invided me to his home and to two Pitt Panther games, a "Pack the Pedersen" game where I saw the UConn Huskies and a Senior Day game, Pitt versus Villanova. He also introduced me to Pitt Head Coach Jamie Dixon and Steelers Radio Play-by Play Announcer, Bill Hillgrove. I remember those experiences as if they happened yesterday. Coach Beranek is a guy that kept me in line during the basketball season. I was his right-hand man, as he coached the junior varsity team. He was also my chaffeur, as he tooked me to the high school gym and back home after each practice and game. Like Coach Hurst, he guided me and made sure I had my head on straight. He also helped to stay focused on my job and not "loaf". My basketball managing years are the most memorable because I accumulated a good number of friends from the team. Even though, we did not have the chance to experience the playoffs. The close game Mount Pleasant were invloved in had amazing playoff-like atmospheres.
The moment you have been waiting for. The number one most influential person/people is:
1. Professors Mark Perry and Richard Krause--Mark Perry, a forner radio personality from WMBI in Chicago, stetched my brain and intelligence to unimaginable heights. His course were arduous, rough, and sometimes frustrating, but his teachings made you appreciate the difficulty of the course. He demonstrates a thick Chicago accent, which his students loved to imitate, but he loved to teach. His passion is teaching. He never gave up on a student, unless you are not willing to work. I thought about switching my major during my sophomore year, but Mark helped me change my mind and stick it out. He believed in my potential abilities and influenced me in not to throw in the towel. His hiilarious antedotes about events that occurred in his life made his classes go a bit faster. His teaching style, I believe is award-winning caliber, and should be amulated by students. Professor Krause as a professor is hard-nosed, tough, and fast paced, like a newsroom for a newspaper. I developed my foundation of professionalism from him. He wore a dress shirt and a tie almost every day and his personal life was almost secrete. He was fair and balanced, as he preached that montra to us during his lessons. Professor Krause demonstrates the notion of professionalism in all aspects of the communication field. His endless newspaper experience have taught me how the newspaper industry operates, how to conduct professional interviews, and how to conduct good, quality newspaper articles utilizing AP style. I learned the craft of writing a fair-and-balanced newspaper article. Thanks, Mark and Professor Krause.
I hope you enjoyed my 12 most influential people. As I progress into my life and meet more interesting along the way, I am certain that this list will increase and change.
The Top 12 Most Influential People in Travis' Eyes:
12. Betsy Kreger and Leeanne Mancini, My Two Favorite Female Friends--I met Betsy through Ashley, a former girlfriend of Adam's, an individual you will meet later on. What struck about Betsy was that she demonstrates motherly instincts. I know she will probably kill me when I mention this! :P She has roommates that, at times, would cause her to go completely insane because of their antics. Almost every day, I would have breakfast with her. And almost every day, she would boister why her friends are driving her mad. I did find humor in her rants, along with her displeasures about some of her English professors. I told myself, "Man, she is going to be a great mother someday." I appreciated her company because not only she was nice, kind, and attentive to me, but also tolerated my rants and complaints about life in the Department. If I saw someone, for example, conduct something stupid and moronic, the next day at breakfast, she helped me regain some of my intelligence back. If I have a longer, committed relationship, Betsy prepared me in absorbing all of the complaints and drama from the significant other. Leeanne Mancini is my favorite cheerleader of all-time! She helped me in changing my overall opinion about cheerleaders in general. Before I met her, I thought every cheerleader was stuck up, airheaded, and did every guy imaginable. I know that is mean, but thankfully, I do not think like a pompous jackass anymore. I was working in the laundry room during my senior year and dragged a bag of laundry along the floor. The weight room was adjacent to the laundry room, but I had to go through it to the women's locker room to drop off their laundry. Leeanne worked in the weight room and she smiled at me and I smiled back. After I dropped off the laundry, I introduced myself formally, even though she already knew me. We started talkin and enjoyed each other's company. From that day and on every Tuesday and Thursday, I would visit her in the weight room. What captivated me about her was her curly and free-flowing hair. Her smile went for miles and miles, and she greeted every person that she knew. Even if she did not, she will greet them anyway. She treated people with respect, an attribute I really admire in anyone. We shared some common interests, we both football and the Steelers. I really appreciate to have her as a friend because she also helped me in refining my listening skills. I think your listening skills are enhanced when you are listening to people that truly matter. I tell myself, "Boy, she would be a great girlfriend for a guy because she is caring, smart, fun, has a great sense of humor, and tries to not take life seriously." I knew we had a special friendship when I arrived the Wiley Stadium for a Prep Rally as part of Homecoming. She was on the sideline preparing for the routine with her cheerleading friends. She was shivering on the sideline, as the temperature dipped. As I saw her for the first time in few months, she warmed with glee. I looked down at her and she looked at me and I saw a sparkle in her eye. "Travis! You came! You came! I am so glad that you came!" I felt great to see her once again and the expression on her face made me feel great and bubbily inside.
11. Michelle Yackovich, Mount Pleasant Head Trainer and her Student Staff--Michelle was the head honcho, or honcha ( I think that is a word?). If I became dramatic or a worry wart, she would be the one to bring me back to Earth. I communicated to her what she needed on the equipment bus before every away game. If I did not, my head was hers. She's tough, somewhat imitidating, and does not take crap from anyone. If you gave the proper respect to her, she will return the favor. I might have lost my head if I did not have her to keep me in line. Her assistant trainers during my tenure kept me company during the road trips. Every single one of them demonstrated character and their maturity makes their beauty more complete. Michelle, do not listen to what Cecil says. The green golf cart is yours and always will be, if so not already.
10. Coach Mark Lyons--If you have read my first entry of ny blog, I showed much disdain for Coach Lyons. Lyons coached my high school team during my sophomore, junior, and senior years--compling a 8-23 record in that span. Coach Lyons did indeed put fear into his players eyes and made the football booster feel uneasy with his tyrantic demeanor. His "tough love" strengthened my skin. I tolerated it a lot, to the point where I wanted to throw the water bottles down and walk away. I did not. I did not because managing was my only gateway to be with the team and enjoy the sport, for free. Even though, I did not see firsthand Coach Lyons appreciated my commitment, I knew deep down he would become even more agitated if he did not have someone help him with the equipment. Coach Lyons may not have a lot of people on his side. His ruthless aggression towards me taught me that people will ride on you to get stuff accomplished. It is up to you to how to react to it and push through to get it done.
9. Coach Rick Shepas and Staff--Coach Rick Shepas became Waynesburg's football head coach in the Summer of 2005. His bald head can be seen a mile away (HAHAHAHA! :)). You might mistake him as Mr. Clean, but he is a teddy bear at heart. From my relationship with him, we developed a strong working relationship. He never declined for an interview. His answers were fresh and never stale. He understood and valued the role of the media. He cooperated with all the student media, and appreciated their efforts. He is a leader because he takes the time and energy in getting to know the players and their backgrounds. That is an attribute of a true coach. His staff is a branch from Coach Shepas, most notably, Jason Falvo. Coach Falvo was the first coach I met during my school visitation and convinced me to join the team as a student manager. Both, along with all the other members of the staff, invited me as Honorary Captain during Senior Day, to honor my dedication and commitment to the team. It is a day I will NEVER EVER forget and it felt really good to run through the sign and lead the team to the field!
8. Coach Dennis Miscik, Coach Dave Capozzi, and the rest of the Baseball Staff--A former minor league pitcher from the Houston Astros organization, Dennis Miscik coached the Mount Pleasant varsity team during my freshman, sophomore, and junior years. His knowledge and business-like demeanor was very essential to the team's success that produced playoff appearances in all three years. He was vital in teaching me the intracies of scoring a baseball game. His successor, Dave Capozzi, taught me to be emotional and love what you do, as he demonstrated those attributes while coaching. I have had both Coach Capozzi and Miscik as teachers and I appreciated their knowledge of baseball, their teachings, and their love for the game.
7. Scott Giacobbi, social studies instructor, basketball and football coach--He stands tall, black-haired, possesses a miltary-type physique. In fact, he did serve in the United States Army. His demeanor in the classroom was fierce, but fair. He demended your attention and cooperation, trademarks of a drill sargant. Mr. Giacobbi believed in me as a student, when I had the distinct pleasure of him as a teacher beginning in the eigth grade. His process was relatively simple: partcipate, ask questions, be attentive, and I will be fair to you, gradewise. I remember vividly of what he wrote in my quote book during my last day of senior high school, proceed and suceed. He was also influential in easing me into student managing, since I cannot play the sport of basketball worth a damn.
6. Bob Gumbita, US History instructor, defensive coordinator of football team--Plain and simple, Mr. Gumbita was a kid at heart. He kept the student body spiritually alive. At times, I thought he was one of us. But, when he needed to, he put on his teaching cap, and taught. He helped me unleash my spirit and love for the school, even though the majority of the body dispised it.
5. Andrea Tomer, a fellow colleague and ex--I met Andrea in person during a school visitation during my junior year. I represented the radio station at a booth and she was the only one that came to it. She's small in stature, about 4'11", but has a huge heart of gold. She has the attributes that I admire in a girl, kind, respect, hard-working, motivated, and sweet. I aided her, for the most part, in the transition from high school to college. I adviced her of everything that she needed to know, good or bad, about the Department of Communication from my prospective. She is one of the first people I mentored. We developed a strong bond for each other and eventually dated during my senior year. Unfortunately, our short and abrupt relationship halted due to our discrepandacy in age and in schedule demands. We still remain good friends and I talk to her when we are both available. She gave me the opportunity to scope what makes a woman tick. Andrea, I have no doubt that you will become the next Katie Couric. I hope you land with Fox News than with CBS.
4. Mark and Luke Payson, Dan Wozniak--This trio do live in the name of the Lord. They are all avid baseball fans and I had a great time reconnecting with them during Homecoming. They are genuine, kind, respectful, funny, and caring Mark and Luke helped me build a foundation on my understanding of the Bible. Mark has helped me in every possible form imaginable. He calls me occasionally to check out how am I doing. He guided me in survival in Intro to Philosophy, as he and Mark painstakingly prepared study notes for me to help comprehend the material. Mark and Luke, became my mentors, as I matured throughout my tenture at Waynesburg University. They made sure I succeeded as well-rounded individual and I became a model for others. Dan and I are good friends and former colleagues from the Department. We clicked because we are both loyal Pittsburgh Pirate fans and we shared the same frustrations the Department were going through. He taught me to keep at it with your aspirations and dreams. Your talent will soon be noticed, but it will take time and effort to reach that pinnacle. This trio's love for people is truely unmatched and thank them every day for their unconditional support.
3. Adam Smith--My best friend, sidekick, and roommate--I cannot even find an good adjective to describe Adam. I call him "Mini Me" because his short in stature both length and width wise, but we both possess an urge to succeed. We both overcame adversity and both connected in that respect. If you talk to other individuals from the University, he and I are synoymous with one another. Our thoughts are almost identical that it is scary! We became roommates during our sophomore year and the rest is history. I have never met anyone that can relate the struggles that I have gone through in order to be accepted. He had multiple heart surgeries and was a former Make-a-Wish kid. His perseverance, positive attitude, and 'Never Say Die" attitude made an impact on me and on others who have known him. Dude, after a few years of you complaining of how biased the Pittsburgh sports media is, I can concur.
2. Coach Tom Traynor, Bill Hurst, and Jim Beranek--These three coached the Mount Pleasant basketball team during my sophomore, junior, and senior years. They are my adopted grandfather, father, and uncle. Coach Traynor reminds me of the great Phil Jackson, an eight-time winning head coach of the Chicago Bulls and the Los Angeles Lakers. An elderstateman of the trio, he possesses a smooth and tranquil demeanor, almost zenlike. His teachings on the court were so articulated that I stood in awe. But, when he needed to show his displeasure about a call, he did not hesitate. Coach Hurst is truly an awesome guy because he took the opportunity in getting to know me and my background. All three of the coaches protected me, but he protected me the most. He is the one that provided me motivation and guidance. To show his admiration, he invided me to his home and to two Pitt Panther games, a "Pack the Pedersen" game where I saw the UConn Huskies and a Senior Day game, Pitt versus Villanova. He also introduced me to Pitt Head Coach Jamie Dixon and Steelers Radio Play-by Play Announcer, Bill Hillgrove. I remember those experiences as if they happened yesterday. Coach Beranek is a guy that kept me in line during the basketball season. I was his right-hand man, as he coached the junior varsity team. He was also my chaffeur, as he tooked me to the high school gym and back home after each practice and game. Like Coach Hurst, he guided me and made sure I had my head on straight. He also helped to stay focused on my job and not "loaf". My basketball managing years are the most memorable because I accumulated a good number of friends from the team. Even though, we did not have the chance to experience the playoffs. The close game Mount Pleasant were invloved in had amazing playoff-like atmospheres.
The moment you have been waiting for. The number one most influential person/people is:
1. Professors Mark Perry and Richard Krause--Mark Perry, a forner radio personality from WMBI in Chicago, stetched my brain and intelligence to unimaginable heights. His course were arduous, rough, and sometimes frustrating, but his teachings made you appreciate the difficulty of the course. He demonstrates a thick Chicago accent, which his students loved to imitate, but he loved to teach. His passion is teaching. He never gave up on a student, unless you are not willing to work. I thought about switching my major during my sophomore year, but Mark helped me change my mind and stick it out. He believed in my potential abilities and influenced me in not to throw in the towel. His hiilarious antedotes about events that occurred in his life made his classes go a bit faster. His teaching style, I believe is award-winning caliber, and should be amulated by students. Professor Krause as a professor is hard-nosed, tough, and fast paced, like a newsroom for a newspaper. I developed my foundation of professionalism from him. He wore a dress shirt and a tie almost every day and his personal life was almost secrete. He was fair and balanced, as he preached that montra to us during his lessons. Professor Krause demonstrates the notion of professionalism in all aspects of the communication field. His endless newspaper experience have taught me how the newspaper industry operates, how to conduct professional interviews, and how to conduct good, quality newspaper articles utilizing AP style. I learned the craft of writing a fair-and-balanced newspaper article. Thanks, Mark and Professor Krause.
I hope you enjoyed my 12 most influential people. As I progress into my life and meet more interesting along the way, I am certain that this list will increase and change.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
The Monotony of Christmas....Oh Joy!
In about a month from now, we will have a new president inaugurated, much to my chagrin. I could not believe that the election was a total landslide! GRRRRR! Anyhow, the historymaking event will occur and I have to deal with it. November embarks the arrival of the holiday season. Hopefully, the holidays shed its gleeful light on cold, heartless people. I love the holiday season! Relatives cram at Grandma's house or some other residence like a pack of sardines, sharing narratives about the past year, reminiscing past memorable holidays, creating chaos after one tiny, innocent conversation that offends a family member, all while scarfing a delicious holiday feast! As the years have gone, however, the purity of the annual season drained, almost abjected. The holidays to me are sentimental, rather than another ordinary day. The Macy's Thanksgiving Parade lost its luster many moons ago and many of the big-time television networks rarely view the classics. (I am sorry, but A Christmas Story does not count!) Classics such as It's a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street, Santa Clause, White Christmas have a special place for us. I have watched A Christmas Story every year on TBS, but it has quickly became stale. The classics have a common message. They communicate that we must value life as it stands and help the unfortunate in any way possible. Thanksgiving allows us to give thanks to our pinnacles and downfalls. The holiday also allows us to eat an enormous amounts of food like turkey, yams, stuffing, and pumpkin pie for dessert. Thanksgiving also allows us to pass out on the couch with our belts open while watching football, for example. These are some of the events that make our holiday seasons worthwhile. I can tolerate Thanksgiving's monotony, but dinner at Christmas should be rotated; ham, turkey, chicken, whatever the main entree may be. I have had spent Christmas Dinner at my Aunt Candy's house for the past decade. The atmosphere at 107 Colonial Drive, Irwin, PA, remains constant every year, which is good in many circumstances, but not like this.
I have been open to conversation at Christmas during adolescence, but now the conversations seem to be stale. I am not certain if it is my duty as a communicator to spark topics to talk about. My topics are mainly centered around Pittsburgh sports and what I think how they are playing thus far. However, talking about sports is not the only subject I know. I try to keep afloat with current events. American politics are archaic to me, but I educate myself by reading the latest news and injecting an unbiased opinion. However, how can I inject an unbiased opinion if the news is twisted to an news organization' s benefit? I think I need to be more aggressive to spark a conversation. The US Constitution might become almost obsolete, if one does not stick to their fundamental beliefs. Christmas at my Aunt Candy's house has been pleasurable; catching up with the family of what has been happening in our lives.
My dad's side family loves one another unconditionally, for the most part. My mom's side, on the contrary, well, the family is characterized in a caste system. There are two groups, snobbish and "ghetto", a term coined by Mom. Almost 75% of mom's side is characterized as snobbish. They may not act snobbish, but their environment and their life style makes them snobbish. They have job security, some clout, and think they are on top of the world. The "ghetto" side, which my immediate is unfortunately chracterized as, is the family that works but struggles at times to make it ends meet. We do not live in a furbished house. We do not buy namebrand items. We do not wear the latest style of clothing, but we do show respect to others that are less fortunate than us. I beieve that in the spirit of Christmas that we should appreciate the presence of family. Appreciate the quality time together because as we age, that time becomes even more precious and vauable. I truly appreciate the notion of my Aunt Candy getting me awesome presents every year, but I feel that there is a catch with each gift. She means well, but the gift symbolizes an underground communication of feeling sorry for us. And she wishes we turned out different. The gift acts as encouragement after she publicly points out our flaws. I am not certain if she uses public criticism as a means of motivation, but this tactic does offend people. My younger brother, Justin, has ballooned in size over the years, thanks to a grease-licking diet of pizza, burgers, steak, and any red meat imaginable. All washed down with Mountain Dew. He lives a sententiary lifestyle and has no motivation whatsoever about life. What Aunt Candy does is she publicly compares myself and Justin. She compliments how I have a leveled head and I make good decisions. She bashes Justin, meanwhile, about his controversial decisions and comments about his smoking and weight. She also compares our cousins, Nina and Jenna, the same way. Since Jenna is a former cheerleader and captain, she receives "extra special" treatment. Extra Special meaning better gifts, default accolades, and she is a woman. It infuriates me because I am not better than they are, nor they are any better than me. I am not better than anyone. We all have our strengths and weaknesses, just like anyone else. What Justin needs is support and encouragement from us, his family. However, we have given him a lot of support, but he just does not care. Aunt Candy should appreciate Nina for being her self, and not amulating Jenna. Justin and I are two totally different people. So, what is the big deal? Not every family member, especially the children, will turn out the same as you want them to.
Once family members arrive to the house, they are seated at the gigantic kitchen for conversation, or catch-up time. Aunt Candy, and her husband, Chuck, has this beautiful glass table top with a chandelier hanging overhead. The majority of the family seats there, while others are spread either at the breakfast bar or picnic tables. One picnic table, though, sits in the corner of the kitchen, adjacent to the vibrant Christmas tree. You read right, a Christmas tree in the kitchen. The table sits my Grandpap, along with his longtime girlfriend, Phyllis. These two just patiently sit at the table, not hurting anyone. I get the feeling, though, they are not welcomed at the party. I am not certain if they are because of their age, but it does not seem right. Their "banishment" reminds me of a story entiled, "The Wise Old Woman", where a Japanese woman was banished from her village and ordered to the mountains simply because she was too old. Even though they sit clear across the room, I sit with them first. I sit to show my appreciation of their eldership. A couple who frequently dances at a hall on a weekly basis at a tender age of 84 deserves any accolade imaginable! The strength of family is determined by its unconditional love for one another no matter how we look or what they do. If the love is superficial, then that love loses the true meaning of family.
The food at Christmas can be monotous, only if the food tastes good. Well, the food at Aunt Candy's house did taste good, but slowly has deterioriated in taste. Every year since my family returned full-time from Japan, we have the same damn thing for dinner, stuffed shells, roast beef, along with a bowl of salad. Seems to be a harmless dinner, right? Let me explain in great detail. The stuffed shells are most of the time undercooked, as the watery sauce deters my appetite. I thought the appetizers were homemade. Wrong! They are packaged and possessed. I always thought the bacon and cheese bangels and were baked by her. Nope. Ahhh! The roast beef. Its aroma greets you first thing when you walk through the doors. The scent is very misleading. When you walk up to the stove, pull the lid from the pan, I guarantee you will scratch your head. My Aunt Candy's roast beef resembles Alpo dog food. Chunks of cubed meat with a moderate thick soup broth and pine needles for flavor. I am sorry, but I do not want pine needles in my freakin' food! My mom is comtemplating about bringing good ol' ham to the party. Hmmmm. I think the ham will be gone way before the stuffed shells and the roast beef.
I can go on and on about the disappeciation and lack of creavitity of the annual Christmas dinner, but this is tradition. I do throughly enjoy the company of family, no matter how messed up it might get. All I ask to change up the main course, please! I do have the strength to eat the dinner this year, but I do not know how long my stomach can tolerate it. A diversed family makes it unique and unforgettable. I will let you know how this dinner goes.
I have been open to conversation at Christmas during adolescence, but now the conversations seem to be stale. I am not certain if it is my duty as a communicator to spark topics to talk about. My topics are mainly centered around Pittsburgh sports and what I think how they are playing thus far. However, talking about sports is not the only subject I know. I try to keep afloat with current events. American politics are archaic to me, but I educate myself by reading the latest news and injecting an unbiased opinion. However, how can I inject an unbiased opinion if the news is twisted to an news organization' s benefit? I think I need to be more aggressive to spark a conversation. The US Constitution might become almost obsolete, if one does not stick to their fundamental beliefs. Christmas at my Aunt Candy's house has been pleasurable; catching up with the family of what has been happening in our lives.
My dad's side family loves one another unconditionally, for the most part. My mom's side, on the contrary, well, the family is characterized in a caste system. There are two groups, snobbish and "ghetto", a term coined by Mom. Almost 75% of mom's side is characterized as snobbish. They may not act snobbish, but their environment and their life style makes them snobbish. They have job security, some clout, and think they are on top of the world. The "ghetto" side, which my immediate is unfortunately chracterized as, is the family that works but struggles at times to make it ends meet. We do not live in a furbished house. We do not buy namebrand items. We do not wear the latest style of clothing, but we do show respect to others that are less fortunate than us. I beieve that in the spirit of Christmas that we should appreciate the presence of family. Appreciate the quality time together because as we age, that time becomes even more precious and vauable. I truly appreciate the notion of my Aunt Candy getting me awesome presents every year, but I feel that there is a catch with each gift. She means well, but the gift symbolizes an underground communication of feeling sorry for us. And she wishes we turned out different. The gift acts as encouragement after she publicly points out our flaws. I am not certain if she uses public criticism as a means of motivation, but this tactic does offend people. My younger brother, Justin, has ballooned in size over the years, thanks to a grease-licking diet of pizza, burgers, steak, and any red meat imaginable. All washed down with Mountain Dew. He lives a sententiary lifestyle and has no motivation whatsoever about life. What Aunt Candy does is she publicly compares myself and Justin. She compliments how I have a leveled head and I make good decisions. She bashes Justin, meanwhile, about his controversial decisions and comments about his smoking and weight. She also compares our cousins, Nina and Jenna, the same way. Since Jenna is a former cheerleader and captain, she receives "extra special" treatment. Extra Special meaning better gifts, default accolades, and she is a woman. It infuriates me because I am not better than they are, nor they are any better than me. I am not better than anyone. We all have our strengths and weaknesses, just like anyone else. What Justin needs is support and encouragement from us, his family. However, we have given him a lot of support, but he just does not care. Aunt Candy should appreciate Nina for being her self, and not amulating Jenna. Justin and I are two totally different people. So, what is the big deal? Not every family member, especially the children, will turn out the same as you want them to.
Once family members arrive to the house, they are seated at the gigantic kitchen for conversation, or catch-up time. Aunt Candy, and her husband, Chuck, has this beautiful glass table top with a chandelier hanging overhead. The majority of the family seats there, while others are spread either at the breakfast bar or picnic tables. One picnic table, though, sits in the corner of the kitchen, adjacent to the vibrant Christmas tree. You read right, a Christmas tree in the kitchen. The table sits my Grandpap, along with his longtime girlfriend, Phyllis. These two just patiently sit at the table, not hurting anyone. I get the feeling, though, they are not welcomed at the party. I am not certain if they are because of their age, but it does not seem right. Their "banishment" reminds me of a story entiled, "The Wise Old Woman", where a Japanese woman was banished from her village and ordered to the mountains simply because she was too old. Even though they sit clear across the room, I sit with them first. I sit to show my appreciation of their eldership. A couple who frequently dances at a hall on a weekly basis at a tender age of 84 deserves any accolade imaginable! The strength of family is determined by its unconditional love for one another no matter how we look or what they do. If the love is superficial, then that love loses the true meaning of family.
The food at Christmas can be monotous, only if the food tastes good. Well, the food at Aunt Candy's house did taste good, but slowly has deterioriated in taste. Every year since my family returned full-time from Japan, we have the same damn thing for dinner, stuffed shells, roast beef, along with a bowl of salad. Seems to be a harmless dinner, right? Let me explain in great detail. The stuffed shells are most of the time undercooked, as the watery sauce deters my appetite. I thought the appetizers were homemade. Wrong! They are packaged and possessed. I always thought the bacon and cheese bangels and were baked by her. Nope. Ahhh! The roast beef. Its aroma greets you first thing when you walk through the doors. The scent is very misleading. When you walk up to the stove, pull the lid from the pan, I guarantee you will scratch your head. My Aunt Candy's roast beef resembles Alpo dog food. Chunks of cubed meat with a moderate thick soup broth and pine needles for flavor. I am sorry, but I do not want pine needles in my freakin' food! My mom is comtemplating about bringing good ol' ham to the party. Hmmmm. I think the ham will be gone way before the stuffed shells and the roast beef.
I can go on and on about the disappeciation and lack of creavitity of the annual Christmas dinner, but this is tradition. I do throughly enjoy the company of family, no matter how messed up it might get. All I ask to change up the main course, please! I do have the strength to eat the dinner this year, but I do not know how long my stomach can tolerate it. A diversed family makes it unique and unforgettable. I will let you know how this dinner goes.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Cerebral Palsy: A Love/Hate Relationship
Are you comfortable with your flaws? Are you fine with all physical or mental problems that you may possess? These are personal questions, huh? For me, I have many physical problems, ranging from a lazy right eye to muscular dystrophy in the left leg. I sometimes suffer from depression too, but hey, what person in the world is perfectly normal!? I have heard the common stereotypes for the cerebral palsy: "They cannot live in a "normal" environment." "They have difficulty communicating because we are retarded." Or, "You guys can never have a normal job". To put it according to David Ring, a preacher who has CP, "I have cerebral palsy, what is your problem?" We are minority, but we are people, nevertheless. The same people that are trying to fulfill one's goals and ambitions, just like the average individual. But, we chase them in a different way. I feel that persons with "disabilities" tend to have a more fierce drive to succeed in life. They are more determined, motivated and I try to find the positive in any situation. I have learned to accept my "disability", even though I do not consider a disability. I do not "suffer" from it, nor I do not want anyone to feel sorry for me. CP illustrates as another piece of my puzzle. It is an extra piece that fits.
"If you don't give it your all, you will fall." I came up with this quote in seventh grade and I stand by it each and every day. My life thus far has been a ever-going roller coaster ride. I have experienced very surreal moments and tragic heartbreaks. If I am in a rut, I utilized my accomplishments to give me the extra shot of adrenaline. Therefore, having cerebral palsy does help me refocus of what I want to accomplish. However, my CP has also allowed me to break my conservative shell.
My high school years were a smorgasboard of emotions. I was confused, frustrated, tenative, but perky, goofy, and funny. I did not find my true self. I did very well academically, graduated with a 3.2 GPA, and socially I was the unofficial team mascot. I provided the comic relief. I performed some outrageous things, especially school spirit week. Oh, my gosh! I loved this week, and I almost partcipated in every event. Senior year was extremely memorable. I was one of the kings of the school and I went completely bonkers. I think what I have done help soldified myself as a recipient for best school spirit for a male.
Homecoming occurred as part of the spirit week festivities, a capstone for the week. I wanted to do something drastic, but within reason. An assistant coach recommended a couple weeks prior I should paint my face the school colors of cherry red and royal blue. He even volunteered to buy the face paint. The idea was brillant and I obiliged to do it. So, on Friday during Spirit Week of 2004, I walked into Mount Pleasant High School caked with red and blue face paint. wearing a Vikings jersey and denim jeans. Almost every teacher I ran into that day was almost in awestruck and somewhat speechless. Some of the student body, on the other hand, shook their heads in disgust. Others relished the moment. To my knowledge, I am the only student to ever wear face paint on a school day. I also had another memorable experience during the football season. I cannot recall where I receive the idea from, but I conducted mini rally speeches during the game days at lunch. The high school served four lunch periods during the day (A,B,C,D). Lunch D was the time slot I ate. I do not recall how it started, but I reved up the crowd with a V-I-K-I-N-G-S chant. I ended it with "Let me hear some noise!", while the students slapped the hands repeatedly on the cafeteria tables. Finally, I have found my niche. Sure, some students were laughing at me, not with me. I did not give a crap because those actions freed me up spiritually. I felt alive and I let myself go from my shell.
Like any condition or disease, they do have an ugly side. Since I have a "disability", I tend to get frustrated very easily. I do put extreme accessive pressure on myself because I strive for success. I want to take the necessary actions in order to achieve that success. I am currently going through a transition period from recent college grad to potential employee in the real world. I must tell you up front. The real world does make any promise for anyone! Every job opportunity out there is every person for themselves. If you are not fully preapred, this chaos might send you into hysteria. You might doubt yourself about your own abilities, your school of choice, the major you hold a degree in, or unexplained events. Believe me. The real world is no picnic. When I graduated college in May, I entered in uncharted teritory. I graduated. Great. Now what? I did not generate a gameplan for myself. I was so consumed and preoccupied with finishing my senior year strong that I forgot to lay out a plan. I did not utilize part of this time to figure out my potential job opportunities. I also did not obtain a driver's license, to make matters a bit arduous. Obtaining a driver's license was the main focal point during the summer. However, I did not anticipate it would take a good majority of the summer to obtain it. I utilize May to recouperate from the lack of sleep I received while cramming. June and a good portion of July were waiting periods. I waited for four to five weeks to to have an appointment with the doctor for a physical. In July, I took and passed the permit test for a third time, but my career counselor strongly recommended to take driving lessons through an accredited driving school. Middle of July, I was evaluated through Brant's Driving School, a driving school that caters with individuals with physical disabilities. Brian, the instructor, recommended me operating the vehicle with an adaptation, a left-foot accelerator pedal. Three weeks passed and I started my driving lessons with another instructor, Dan, in August. No lie. On September 11, 2008, in Somerset County, I finally received my license. But, I have not driven since. My mother drives a 2007 Chevrolet HHR. One minor flaw though. It has a manual transmission. More obstacles are in the way. In a couple of months, I have achieved my goal, but I am behind the 8-ball in the job market.
I sometimes ask the question, "If I did not have a disability, would my life be any different?" Logically, yes, but I cannot fathom I would be the same person. I might have treated people with arrogance, disrespect, and negativity. This is a detour on my road to success, but this is a very fortunate detour. Sometimes, I would become so irate with my CP that I often thought about suicide. I felt I was unworthy for the ever-changing world. However, the detour was a character building exercise. I could blame about the recent USA economic troubles, or the "bleak" entry-level positions in my field. Instead, I appreciated the summer drama. Every one goes through some type of drama, good or bad. My drama tested my patience greatly. My attitude fluctuated severely, but I learned. I learned to take in your drama and absorb the potential. The potential of finding 'Why the drama happened?' and 'Why it had to be associated with me?" The uniqueness of one's life is defined by their adversity. How they overcame it truly makes them more unique from the rest. I am awaiting a job opportunity with a packaging company near Mount Pleasant. I am excited and anxious about it, but I am quickly catching up to the 8-ball.
"If you don't give it your all, you will fall." I came up with this quote in seventh grade and I stand by it each and every day. My life thus far has been a ever-going roller coaster ride. I have experienced very surreal moments and tragic heartbreaks. If I am in a rut, I utilized my accomplishments to give me the extra shot of adrenaline. Therefore, having cerebral palsy does help me refocus of what I want to accomplish. However, my CP has also allowed me to break my conservative shell.
My high school years were a smorgasboard of emotions. I was confused, frustrated, tenative, but perky, goofy, and funny. I did not find my true self. I did very well academically, graduated with a 3.2 GPA, and socially I was the unofficial team mascot. I provided the comic relief. I performed some outrageous things, especially school spirit week. Oh, my gosh! I loved this week, and I almost partcipated in every event. Senior year was extremely memorable. I was one of the kings of the school and I went completely bonkers. I think what I have done help soldified myself as a recipient for best school spirit for a male.
Homecoming occurred as part of the spirit week festivities, a capstone for the week. I wanted to do something drastic, but within reason. An assistant coach recommended a couple weeks prior I should paint my face the school colors of cherry red and royal blue. He even volunteered to buy the face paint. The idea was brillant and I obiliged to do it. So, on Friday during Spirit Week of 2004, I walked into Mount Pleasant High School caked with red and blue face paint. wearing a Vikings jersey and denim jeans. Almost every teacher I ran into that day was almost in awestruck and somewhat speechless. Some of the student body, on the other hand, shook their heads in disgust. Others relished the moment. To my knowledge, I am the only student to ever wear face paint on a school day. I also had another memorable experience during the football season. I cannot recall where I receive the idea from, but I conducted mini rally speeches during the game days at lunch. The high school served four lunch periods during the day (A,B,C,D). Lunch D was the time slot I ate. I do not recall how it started, but I reved up the crowd with a V-I-K-I-N-G-S chant. I ended it with "Let me hear some noise!", while the students slapped the hands repeatedly on the cafeteria tables. Finally, I have found my niche. Sure, some students were laughing at me, not with me. I did not give a crap because those actions freed me up spiritually. I felt alive and I let myself go from my shell.
Like any condition or disease, they do have an ugly side. Since I have a "disability", I tend to get frustrated very easily. I do put extreme accessive pressure on myself because I strive for success. I want to take the necessary actions in order to achieve that success. I am currently going through a transition period from recent college grad to potential employee in the real world. I must tell you up front. The real world does make any promise for anyone! Every job opportunity out there is every person for themselves. If you are not fully preapred, this chaos might send you into hysteria. You might doubt yourself about your own abilities, your school of choice, the major you hold a degree in, or unexplained events. Believe me. The real world is no picnic. When I graduated college in May, I entered in uncharted teritory. I graduated. Great. Now what? I did not generate a gameplan for myself. I was so consumed and preoccupied with finishing my senior year strong that I forgot to lay out a plan. I did not utilize part of this time to figure out my potential job opportunities. I also did not obtain a driver's license, to make matters a bit arduous. Obtaining a driver's license was the main focal point during the summer. However, I did not anticipate it would take a good majority of the summer to obtain it. I utilize May to recouperate from the lack of sleep I received while cramming. June and a good portion of July were waiting periods. I waited for four to five weeks to to have an appointment with the doctor for a physical. In July, I took and passed the permit test for a third time, but my career counselor strongly recommended to take driving lessons through an accredited driving school. Middle of July, I was evaluated through Brant's Driving School, a driving school that caters with individuals with physical disabilities. Brian, the instructor, recommended me operating the vehicle with an adaptation, a left-foot accelerator pedal. Three weeks passed and I started my driving lessons with another instructor, Dan, in August. No lie. On September 11, 2008, in Somerset County, I finally received my license. But, I have not driven since. My mother drives a 2007 Chevrolet HHR. One minor flaw though. It has a manual transmission. More obstacles are in the way. In a couple of months, I have achieved my goal, but I am behind the 8-ball in the job market.
I sometimes ask the question, "If I did not have a disability, would my life be any different?" Logically, yes, but I cannot fathom I would be the same person. I might have treated people with arrogance, disrespect, and negativity. This is a detour on my road to success, but this is a very fortunate detour. Sometimes, I would become so irate with my CP that I often thought about suicide. I felt I was unworthy for the ever-changing world. However, the detour was a character building exercise. I could blame about the recent USA economic troubles, or the "bleak" entry-level positions in my field. Instead, I appreciated the summer drama. Every one goes through some type of drama, good or bad. My drama tested my patience greatly. My attitude fluctuated severely, but I learned. I learned to take in your drama and absorb the potential. The potential of finding 'Why the drama happened?' and 'Why it had to be associated with me?" The uniqueness of one's life is defined by their adversity. How they overcame it truly makes them more unique from the rest. I am awaiting a job opportunity with a packaging company near Mount Pleasant. I am excited and anxious about it, but I am quickly catching up to the 8-ball.
Friday, October 24, 2008
People, Women, and Opportunity
I like to observe things, especially people. Variety of people make the USA a very unique and stand out from the other known countries, like the UK and Russia. However, I also like to take mental notes of how people interact with one another. Their interactions are just fascinating. Fascinating because their encounters are impromptu and you never know what kind of reaction they will make. I think observing is essential in getting to know a person better. You have to be careful though. Some might consider you a weirdo, which i have been called before. I bring up people because I have met quite a few of them. When I think of people, I also think of women. Yes, ladies and gents. I am a guy and I am VERY interested in the opposite sex. The hormones are ferociously raging and my parience is dwindling. Like many men, I ask the age old question, "What makes a woman tick?" This question might sound simple, yet the question is complicated and difficult to comprehend.
So, what is the million dollar answer to the question? I do not know. If I have the answer, I would be an instant millionaire right now. When we grow up through adolesence, we guys are taught by our loving, sometimes nagging, mothers to treat women with kindness, respect, and diginity. I love these qualities, but to most women, these qualities draw up a "wussy" flag. What is a wussy you ask? A wussy is a guy that will do ANYTHING for their particular love interest, according to Date Expert, David DeAngelo. Whether they are compliments, buying candy/gifts, or being a total kiss ass to them, a wussy use these tactics to gain attention. I, unfortnately, fit into this category. I have the good guy disease. I am "Everyone's Best Friend". It is a curse, but a blessing at the same time. I understand the modern woman wants adventure, mystery, and excitement. These qualities help generate attraction between the male and the female. But this is where I have a beef. Okay, over the years, I have heard complaints from hot women about how their boyfriends treat them like total crap. They ask, 'Why are there not any nice guys in the world?' I think I have an answer. The reason hot, attractive women are almost inferior to nice guys because it is a shock. The women simply do not know how react, similar to when a guy sees a hot girl. That shock deters them away from the nice guy. So, out of apprehension, she pushes the nice guy away. I have seen and been in this situation before. Another reason might be the woman has been accustomed to the rude treatment. Her self-esteem has reached rock-bottom levels that it is the ONLY behavior that she derserves. The third reason might be she does not know what she wants from a guy. Well, ladies, nice guys cannot be in limbo forever! Like I said, women are complicated and sophisicated creatures. It can be frustrating, but I enjoy the challenge. I enjoy figuring out how a woman simply how reacts around people. If I wrong about my assumptions, so be it. There are plenty of fish in the sea!
Let me talk about the other side of the coin. What about the "unattractive, ugly" women? I blame the media for bringing up this question. In today's society, looks make the world all the difference. Physical attractiveness is what most guys see in a woman. When they see a hot girl, they pounce. And, most times, they want to "hit that". I do not agree with this, but it is true. Do you find unattractive, ugly women on television? Almost never. But, what do you call unattractive? Unattractive, to me, is a woman who does not appreciate your company, almost taking you for granted. Unattractive women do not appreciate your thoughts and compliments. They might feel you are using these as a crutch because you are not physically attractive to her. Lastly, unattractive women do not make you feel good about yourself. In a coversation or in a relationship, the man and the woman should feel good about each other. If they do not feel good, both are just wasting precious time.
I have had my fair chances with women. The chances failed because of my apprehension of rejection. I hate rejection. Rejection hurts like dislocating a joint. Each time, it hurts more and pain is intense. Here is the irony. I have never tasted rejection. I have played the "What If?" card and it decided for me. I did not pounce on the opportunities and regret on those chances. I let fear get the best of me. I did not let my heart do the work. I always feared of what other people might have thought, especially my family. The immediate family does not judge, but outside of it, they judge often. If I dated an African American, for example, I would have been shunned from the family. They are very judgmental, materalistic, and it is simply not right. Now, I do not give a flying fly of what they think. I wished I seen this sooner. When I see couples holding hands, I feel resentment towards myself; all simply because I did not take the risk. Here is a word of advice: If you feel that special spiritual connection within one another, do NOT let it get away!
I have learned that it is quite alright if you cannot find that special someone just yet. There is someone for everyone. It might be today, tomorrow, or a few years from now. You will never know if you just keep trying. However, do not make it a lifelong quest. First thing first is to establish yourself and find your place in this world. The world is cruel, unusual, and sometimes outrageous. 9 times out of 10 people will accept you for you. If they do not, do not sweat it! The opportunity will come, opportunity will come.
So, what is the million dollar answer to the question? I do not know. If I have the answer, I would be an instant millionaire right now. When we grow up through adolesence, we guys are taught by our loving, sometimes nagging, mothers to treat women with kindness, respect, and diginity. I love these qualities, but to most women, these qualities draw up a "wussy" flag. What is a wussy you ask? A wussy is a guy that will do ANYTHING for their particular love interest, according to Date Expert, David DeAngelo. Whether they are compliments, buying candy/gifts, or being a total kiss ass to them, a wussy use these tactics to gain attention. I, unfortnately, fit into this category. I have the good guy disease. I am "Everyone's Best Friend". It is a curse, but a blessing at the same time. I understand the modern woman wants adventure, mystery, and excitement. These qualities help generate attraction between the male and the female. But this is where I have a beef. Okay, over the years, I have heard complaints from hot women about how their boyfriends treat them like total crap. They ask, 'Why are there not any nice guys in the world?' I think I have an answer. The reason hot, attractive women are almost inferior to nice guys because it is a shock. The women simply do not know how react, similar to when a guy sees a hot girl. That shock deters them away from the nice guy. So, out of apprehension, she pushes the nice guy away. I have seen and been in this situation before. Another reason might be the woman has been accustomed to the rude treatment. Her self-esteem has reached rock-bottom levels that it is the ONLY behavior that she derserves. The third reason might be she does not know what she wants from a guy. Well, ladies, nice guys cannot be in limbo forever! Like I said, women are complicated and sophisicated creatures. It can be frustrating, but I enjoy the challenge. I enjoy figuring out how a woman simply how reacts around people. If I wrong about my assumptions, so be it. There are plenty of fish in the sea!
Let me talk about the other side of the coin. What about the "unattractive, ugly" women? I blame the media for bringing up this question. In today's society, looks make the world all the difference. Physical attractiveness is what most guys see in a woman. When they see a hot girl, they pounce. And, most times, they want to "hit that". I do not agree with this, but it is true. Do you find unattractive, ugly women on television? Almost never. But, what do you call unattractive? Unattractive, to me, is a woman who does not appreciate your company, almost taking you for granted. Unattractive women do not appreciate your thoughts and compliments. They might feel you are using these as a crutch because you are not physically attractive to her. Lastly, unattractive women do not make you feel good about yourself. In a coversation or in a relationship, the man and the woman should feel good about each other. If they do not feel good, both are just wasting precious time.
I have had my fair chances with women. The chances failed because of my apprehension of rejection. I hate rejection. Rejection hurts like dislocating a joint. Each time, it hurts more and pain is intense. Here is the irony. I have never tasted rejection. I have played the "What If?" card and it decided for me. I did not pounce on the opportunities and regret on those chances. I let fear get the best of me. I did not let my heart do the work. I always feared of what other people might have thought, especially my family. The immediate family does not judge, but outside of it, they judge often. If I dated an African American, for example, I would have been shunned from the family. They are very judgmental, materalistic, and it is simply not right. Now, I do not give a flying fly of what they think. I wished I seen this sooner. When I see couples holding hands, I feel resentment towards myself; all simply because I did not take the risk. Here is a word of advice: If you feel that special spiritual connection within one another, do NOT let it get away!
I have learned that it is quite alright if you cannot find that special someone just yet. There is someone for everyone. It might be today, tomorrow, or a few years from now. You will never know if you just keep trying. However, do not make it a lifelong quest. First thing first is to establish yourself and find your place in this world. The world is cruel, unusual, and sometimes outrageous. 9 times out of 10 people will accept you for you. If they do not, do not sweat it! The opportunity will come, opportunity will come.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
How Did the Steelers and Football Become a Pivotal Role in My Life?
Everyone has a purpose in life. Some discover it at an early age, but others have to experience certain events to figure their true calling. I discovered what I wanted to do at the age of 8. My grandmother took me to a local American Legion for a football party. Back then, I did not know what football was and I hardly knew who were the Pittsburgh Steelers. Pittsburgh advanced to the 1994 AFC Championship for a spot at Super Bowl XXIX in Miami at home against the San Diego Chargers. The Legion, like so many local watering holes, hosted a huge football party filled with chips, soda (beer), and the main attraction, Steelers football on the big screen. The spectacle was unreal. Fans cheering wildly when Pittsburgh scored a touchdown. On the flip side, fans would hiss and boo at the screen if the opponent had an upper edge. I felt as if I was at the stadium with the fans. Unfortunately, Pittsburgh lost 17-13 on an attempted 4th and goal from the 3. However, the atmosphere was so thrilling and enjoyable that I founded a new hobby, watching football, Steelers football.
The Steelers and I are pretty much synoymous with one another. We both go almost together like peanut butter and jelly. Most of my friends think that I am a walking advertisement for the franchise because I constantly wear Steeler jerseys, even during the offseason. Whatever the case may be, I enjoy watching Steelers football. Every year, as the summer days dwindle, I await in tremendous anticipation the arrival of Steelers football. The Steelers not only represents the city, but they symbolize me. Blue-collar, hardworking, proud steel workers helped create the fabric of what Pittsburgh is known today, "the Steel City". Watching a hometown football team on a cool, dreary Sunday afternoon warms up the soul of the steel worker. It captivates the human spirit after an arduous work week. I identified with this prospective. I was taught to earn your stripes the old-fashioned way, roll up your sleeves, treat others with honor and respect, and do the work. For many years, the Steelers welcomed its opponents with its hard-nosed attitude, as the two combatants played a fierce game of football. I utilized their attitude into my daily life. Instead of beating them physically, I beat my naysayers by absorbing their doubt and converting it into self-motivation.
I wanted to particpate in athetic competition. During high school, I wanted to anchor the defense as a linebacker in playing football. I dreamed of being the vocal one, like a Jack Lambert, and able to back it up with ferocious, pulverizing hits on the opposition. Unfortunately, due to my cerebral palsy, I am unable to fulfill that dream. Instead, I got into student managing to keep myself occupied. I never felt such appreciation and pride during these years. Student managing helped solidify my foundation as a person and helped me better understand the rules of the game. It also fulfilled my contribution to the community. Watching and caring for my hometown team warmed up my soul, but the warmth took awhile to be present.
I made my student managing debut in late August 2001. Mount Pleasant traveled to Elizabeth Forward to battle the Warriors in Keystone Conference play. Heading into the game I did not know what to expect. I was excited to be affiliated with the team for the first time ever. However, I was even more concerned about how I would do. I entered into uncharted territory. Then Mount Pleasant Head Coach Mark Lyons ordered me to distribute the player equipment bags and to get all the equipment down to our sideline. Our sideline stood at the bottom slope of the hill. The team bus was parked on the top of the hill. I looked down at our vacant sideline thinking what a long way the trip would be. After unloading the players' bags, I gathered the coaches' equipment and proceeded down to the field. I was not aware of the route I took to get down to the sideline. Carl, the equipment guy, helped me carry some of the equipment to our sideline. He galloped around the stadium through the parking lot. Myself, I walked instead through Warrior Stadium, one by one, on the aluminium bleachers. I felt if I was making a grand entrance into the stadium, but without cheers from the crowd. I did not realize how much work I had to do before the game. For example, I had to make sure the team had sufficent amount of balls, towels, water, water bottles, kicking tee, extra point tee, and communicating with Coach Lyons about the pre-game setup. All night I ran the sideline like a chicken with its head decapitated. Michelle, the head athletic trainer, guided me through the process and made sure I had my head on straight.
I recalled her telling me, "Slow down! You are going at a million miles an hour. Take a breath and breathe."
Not a moment later, I heard Coach Lyons yelling, "Water, water, WATER!"
I ran to the players as fastest as I could, simultaneously swinging my arms, while holding the bright orange Gatorade water bottle carriage in my right hand. I ran quickly back to the sideline to refill the bottles. Each time a timeout was taken, or the quarter reached its end, I would run full sprint ahead, give out the water, retrieve it, and return the same way back to the sideline. This approach was simple, but effective. As the football season aged, I began to build confidence within myself and the team. My fellow teammates, the trainers, everyone associated with the Vikings began to notice my demeanor. The football parents began to compliment my work to the assistant coaches. Most saw the dedication and pride I was trying to spread. I felt appreciated for the first time other than my family. This appreciation was a surreal emotion, as it was very crucial in my character development. I utilized the "Steelers mentality" and quickly gain respect within the school and the community.
Do you know a coach, regardless of what sport, was so hot-headed, tough, and sometimes inferior that it was impossible to please? Mark Lyons fits this description. His style of coaching resembles a monarch, or a ruthless king, almost like Alexander the Great. If a player screwed up, he would go into a vicious tyriad, and sometimes would public humiliate you in front of your teammates and the fans in the stadium. His style was to rattle your nerves to get the job done. His stature was not imposing, he stands 5'8, weighs around 165, has short blonde straight hair, and a slender build. Out of all the coaches I have had to communicate with, he was the most difficult and demanding.
I remembered a scrimmage at Indiana, PA High School, prior to the 2002 season. The weather overcast with a moderate drizzle. The grass field captured the rainwater and it transformed the field into a semi-quagmire. Luckily, I had three younger assistants to help me during the game. Our efforts were unmatched to meet Coach Lyons' accomodations. I recall putting a trio of footballs wrapped in white towels in the end zone near the goal post for goalline offense during pre-game warmup. I ran back to the sideline to retrieve more towels. As I ran, Coach and I crossed paths. He asked firmly, "Travis, what are you doing?"
"I am going to the bench to get more towels." I replied.
"Why are you putting the wet balls on the ground in the end zone?"
"I was told to put those balls in that area for a goalline drill." I answered.
"What are you doing? You do not put the balls there!" Coach fired back. "Do you see it is raining out here?! I want fresh new balls in that area, and make sure we have fresh new balls for the scrimmage!"
Deplorable weather is not your best friend, especially with a wet natural grass surface. As a former team manager, these elements made my life a living mightmare. If you add Coaches' orders to the mix, it was a recipe for anger and frustration. All day long my assistants, the trainers, and I would try to keep everything in order. We survived, but I knew coach was not pleased. With each game, each mistake magnifies. I knew from that scrimmage and my debut a year before I had to be on my A-game every time to keep myself out of Coach's doghouse. The work was at times arduous, demanding, and sometimes frustrating, but I made this decision. The Vikings were downright pathetic during my first two years of football managing. Mount Pleasant were the bottom dwellers in their conference, with records of 1-9 and 2-8 respectively, in 2001 and 2002. As you can see, the team's swagger was dead and lifeless.
I recall a practice where Mother Nature reared her ugly head once again. Our practices occurred on a grassy field, beside the entrance to the High School Pool. Therefore, the field became muddy when wet.
The 2002 season was drawing near its end and most of the team waved the white flag in surrender. Morale was at a all-time low, and all of the members wanted the hell out. As for me, I continued to work with some diginity and pride. The team was in a 7 on 9 drill, with seven offensive players and nine defensive players on the other. It is a drill to scout the opposing team's offensive and defensive schemes. I kneeled behind the players, wiping the footballs frantically with towels. I tried my best in rotating relatively dried footballs during the drill. Mother Nature was winning the bout. Coach Lyons asked me fiercely to put a dry football down at the center position. I said I cannot do that because all the balls are wet and not ready yet. He ordered again to put a football on the center. I grabbed the towel, dried the ball fast, and placed it on the center. I do not exactly remember what he muttered after I placed the football. I do remember having a strong amount of anguish and disdain towards him. He publicly humiliated me. Parents stood from atop of the hill in shock of what just happened. The assistant coaches stood speechless, trying to comprehend what just transpired. At that moment, I wanted to drop the football, give Coach Lyons the bird, and walk off with my pride intact. I stayed. I stayed because I knew I had more supporters. It would have been foolish of me to let one person influence me to walk away. His "tough love" did not penetrate my strong will.
I do strongly dislike Coach Lyons because of his tyriant behavior and scare tactics as a coach. The Booster Club after that particular practice wanted Coach to be dismissed. They thought his actions were unacceptable and totally inappropriate. I agree, but Coach's "tough love" strengthened my character. I think we have a mutual respect with each other, but I proved to him, the team, and the fans I could manage. It would take much more than a public embarassment and constant yelling to crack my spirit. I will never know if Coach truly appreciated my presence and work. However, I am greatful for him being a "hardass" to me.
The Steelers and I are pretty much synoymous with one another. We both go almost together like peanut butter and jelly. Most of my friends think that I am a walking advertisement for the franchise because I constantly wear Steeler jerseys, even during the offseason. Whatever the case may be, I enjoy watching Steelers football. Every year, as the summer days dwindle, I await in tremendous anticipation the arrival of Steelers football. The Steelers not only represents the city, but they symbolize me. Blue-collar, hardworking, proud steel workers helped create the fabric of what Pittsburgh is known today, "the Steel City". Watching a hometown football team on a cool, dreary Sunday afternoon warms up the soul of the steel worker. It captivates the human spirit after an arduous work week. I identified with this prospective. I was taught to earn your stripes the old-fashioned way, roll up your sleeves, treat others with honor and respect, and do the work. For many years, the Steelers welcomed its opponents with its hard-nosed attitude, as the two combatants played a fierce game of football. I utilized their attitude into my daily life. Instead of beating them physically, I beat my naysayers by absorbing their doubt and converting it into self-motivation.
I wanted to particpate in athetic competition. During high school, I wanted to anchor the defense as a linebacker in playing football. I dreamed of being the vocal one, like a Jack Lambert, and able to back it up with ferocious, pulverizing hits on the opposition. Unfortunately, due to my cerebral palsy, I am unable to fulfill that dream. Instead, I got into student managing to keep myself occupied. I never felt such appreciation and pride during these years. Student managing helped solidify my foundation as a person and helped me better understand the rules of the game. It also fulfilled my contribution to the community. Watching and caring for my hometown team warmed up my soul, but the warmth took awhile to be present.
I made my student managing debut in late August 2001. Mount Pleasant traveled to Elizabeth Forward to battle the Warriors in Keystone Conference play. Heading into the game I did not know what to expect. I was excited to be affiliated with the team for the first time ever. However, I was even more concerned about how I would do. I entered into uncharted territory. Then Mount Pleasant Head Coach Mark Lyons ordered me to distribute the player equipment bags and to get all the equipment down to our sideline. Our sideline stood at the bottom slope of the hill. The team bus was parked on the top of the hill. I looked down at our vacant sideline thinking what a long way the trip would be. After unloading the players' bags, I gathered the coaches' equipment and proceeded down to the field. I was not aware of the route I took to get down to the sideline. Carl, the equipment guy, helped me carry some of the equipment to our sideline. He galloped around the stadium through the parking lot. Myself, I walked instead through Warrior Stadium, one by one, on the aluminium bleachers. I felt if I was making a grand entrance into the stadium, but without cheers from the crowd. I did not realize how much work I had to do before the game. For example, I had to make sure the team had sufficent amount of balls, towels, water, water bottles, kicking tee, extra point tee, and communicating with Coach Lyons about the pre-game setup. All night I ran the sideline like a chicken with its head decapitated. Michelle, the head athletic trainer, guided me through the process and made sure I had my head on straight.
I recalled her telling me, "Slow down! You are going at a million miles an hour. Take a breath and breathe."
Not a moment later, I heard Coach Lyons yelling, "Water, water, WATER!"
I ran to the players as fastest as I could, simultaneously swinging my arms, while holding the bright orange Gatorade water bottle carriage in my right hand. I ran quickly back to the sideline to refill the bottles. Each time a timeout was taken, or the quarter reached its end, I would run full sprint ahead, give out the water, retrieve it, and return the same way back to the sideline. This approach was simple, but effective. As the football season aged, I began to build confidence within myself and the team. My fellow teammates, the trainers, everyone associated with the Vikings began to notice my demeanor. The football parents began to compliment my work to the assistant coaches. Most saw the dedication and pride I was trying to spread. I felt appreciated for the first time other than my family. This appreciation was a surreal emotion, as it was very crucial in my character development. I utilized the "Steelers mentality" and quickly gain respect within the school and the community.
Do you know a coach, regardless of what sport, was so hot-headed, tough, and sometimes inferior that it was impossible to please? Mark Lyons fits this description. His style of coaching resembles a monarch, or a ruthless king, almost like Alexander the Great. If a player screwed up, he would go into a vicious tyriad, and sometimes would public humiliate you in front of your teammates and the fans in the stadium. His style was to rattle your nerves to get the job done. His stature was not imposing, he stands 5'8, weighs around 165, has short blonde straight hair, and a slender build. Out of all the coaches I have had to communicate with, he was the most difficult and demanding.
I remembered a scrimmage at Indiana, PA High School, prior to the 2002 season. The weather overcast with a moderate drizzle. The grass field captured the rainwater and it transformed the field into a semi-quagmire. Luckily, I had three younger assistants to help me during the game. Our efforts were unmatched to meet Coach Lyons' accomodations. I recall putting a trio of footballs wrapped in white towels in the end zone near the goal post for goalline offense during pre-game warmup. I ran back to the sideline to retrieve more towels. As I ran, Coach and I crossed paths. He asked firmly, "Travis, what are you doing?"
"I am going to the bench to get more towels." I replied.
"Why are you putting the wet balls on the ground in the end zone?"
"I was told to put those balls in that area for a goalline drill." I answered.
"What are you doing? You do not put the balls there!" Coach fired back. "Do you see it is raining out here?! I want fresh new balls in that area, and make sure we have fresh new balls for the scrimmage!"
Deplorable weather is not your best friend, especially with a wet natural grass surface. As a former team manager, these elements made my life a living mightmare. If you add Coaches' orders to the mix, it was a recipe for anger and frustration. All day long my assistants, the trainers, and I would try to keep everything in order. We survived, but I knew coach was not pleased. With each game, each mistake magnifies. I knew from that scrimmage and my debut a year before I had to be on my A-game every time to keep myself out of Coach's doghouse. The work was at times arduous, demanding, and sometimes frustrating, but I made this decision. The Vikings were downright pathetic during my first two years of football managing. Mount Pleasant were the bottom dwellers in their conference, with records of 1-9 and 2-8 respectively, in 2001 and 2002. As you can see, the team's swagger was dead and lifeless.
I recall a practice where Mother Nature reared her ugly head once again. Our practices occurred on a grassy field, beside the entrance to the High School Pool. Therefore, the field became muddy when wet.
The 2002 season was drawing near its end and most of the team waved the white flag in surrender. Morale was at a all-time low, and all of the members wanted the hell out. As for me, I continued to work with some diginity and pride. The team was in a 7 on 9 drill, with seven offensive players and nine defensive players on the other. It is a drill to scout the opposing team's offensive and defensive schemes. I kneeled behind the players, wiping the footballs frantically with towels. I tried my best in rotating relatively dried footballs during the drill. Mother Nature was winning the bout. Coach Lyons asked me fiercely to put a dry football down at the center position. I said I cannot do that because all the balls are wet and not ready yet. He ordered again to put a football on the center. I grabbed the towel, dried the ball fast, and placed it on the center. I do not exactly remember what he muttered after I placed the football. I do remember having a strong amount of anguish and disdain towards him. He publicly humiliated me. Parents stood from atop of the hill in shock of what just happened. The assistant coaches stood speechless, trying to comprehend what just transpired. At that moment, I wanted to drop the football, give Coach Lyons the bird, and walk off with my pride intact. I stayed. I stayed because I knew I had more supporters. It would have been foolish of me to let one person influence me to walk away. His "tough love" did not penetrate my strong will.
I do strongly dislike Coach Lyons because of his tyriant behavior and scare tactics as a coach. The Booster Club after that particular practice wanted Coach to be dismissed. They thought his actions were unacceptable and totally inappropriate. I agree, but Coach's "tough love" strengthened my character. I think we have a mutual respect with each other, but I proved to him, the team, and the fans I could manage. It would take much more than a public embarassment and constant yelling to crack my spirit. I will never know if Coach truly appreciated my presence and work. However, I am greatful for him being a "hardass" to me.
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