Tuesday, July 17, 2018
The warrior and the child
Couple of my friends asked me, "Why do you invite and let those old guys come play ball with us. They're so bad."
Picture a 13 year old, on the verge of manhood but still a boy. Unsure. Insecure. Trying to find his way. Every week he tries to join the hunters and warriors of his tribe on their expeditions. Each time he is turned away.
"Go away kid. You can't keep up and you make too much noise."
"You can't even shoot an arrow."
Only one warrior takes the time to show him how to use a bow. How to track. How to signal to other hunters. How to stalk silently on the forest floor.
Eventually, when the boy tries to join the hunt and is being turned away the warrior speaks up.
"He is ready."
And the boy becomes accepted as a man.
15 years later he is the top warrior and chief of his tribe.
The warrior who taught him is now an old man. He can no longer hunt but always gets his share of meat and a place by the fire. No one asks the chief why it is so.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Failure
"I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed."
- Michael Jordan
Sunday, September 15, 2013
If Hank was a Baller
There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him.
I say, stay in there,
I'm not going to let anybody see you.
There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
but I pour Red Bull on him and pop a few painkillers
and the bikini girls and the meatheads and the
crafty old-school vets never know that he's in there. There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him.
I say, stay down, do you want to mess me up?
you want to screw up the works?
you want to blow my programming gig? There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out on the beach sometimes,
when it's just the fellas.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be sad.
Then I put him back,
but he's singing a little in there.
I haven't quite let him die
and we sleep together like that
with our secret pact
and it's nice enough to make a man weep,
but I don't weep,
do you? - Original Poem by Charles Bukowski
but I'm too tough for him.
I say, stay in there,
I'm not going to let anybody see you.
There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
but I pour Red Bull on him and pop a few painkillers
and the bikini girls and the meatheads and the
crafty old-school vets never know that he's in there. There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him.
I say, stay down, do you want to mess me up?
you want to screw up the works?
you want to blow my programming gig? There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out on the beach sometimes,
when it's just the fellas.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be sad.
Then I put him back,
but he's singing a little in there.
I haven't quite let him die
and we sleep together like that
with our secret pact
and it's nice enough to make a man weep,
but I don't weep,
do you? - Original Poem by Charles Bukowski
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Riley Runs Rampant
Riley's in an older age bracket this year so I can only help coach her team during practice. During her games I have to coach Max's team so I never get to see her play. Luckily, one of her teammates parents recorded their first game. Watch her start the game by taking it to the house.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Sophy's Choice
So there we were playing on Friday, when Sophy had the game on pause to strip out of his lycra tight top. I notice this bariatric dude stop in his tracks and do a double-take on Sophy’s chiseled torso. As sophe struts to the side of the court to put his spandex shirt aside, this mesmerized man feasts his eyes on dark succulent flesh. Then he looks down at his hand which is holding a delicious half eaten drum stick, then he looks again to this Asian Adonis, back to his drum stick then back to Adonis. And I see, registering in his face, this painful computation, "Sophy’s Choice", the choice between gluttonous goodness of ice cream packed into a crispy cone with a plug of chocolate lodge deep in the conical terminus or a body packed, tight and right and ripped in an evolutionary pattern programmed to make women swoon and men irate. The big man takes one more long look at Delish (Sophy) and decides. He lowers the cone and gingerly holds it with fingertips away from this waistline as if it is an embarrassing turd that his schnauzer excreted on his neighbors lawn. He walks away toward the garbage can, holding his head a bit higher, his gut sucked in, and his posteriors marching to the tune of "Yes I can!".
Editor's Note:Truth is Sophy's diet consists primarily of Beer and Pizza. He burns a lot of calories chasing tail in Ballard dive bars.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Fastest Female Football Player
Jen caught one of Riley's long runs on her iPhone. She finished the 6 game season with 7 touchdown runs and 2 touchdown receptions. Almost all her runs were 50+ yards a pop. She was the fastest player on the team, and we had some speedsters. But they couldn't keep up with Riley.
Disregard the fat guy in the red shirt behind the play.
Disregard the fat guy in the red shirt behind the play.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
3D Printer
Not sure why I'm posting this since I just got back from a week in Cali and I'm swamped at work today. But it's just too amazing to pass up.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
What if we treated real life friends the way we treat people online
This sketch is pretty funny. It highlights the shortcomings of our online decorum where anonymity leads to some pretty despicable behavior. I feel like it only took advantage of a small fraction of the material it could have leveraged for being funny (i.e. Complaining about overpowered weapons, making fun of peoples stats, ranks, etc.). Still pretty good though.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Friday, December 17, 2010
Just when I thought I was out ...
... they pulled me back in.
For the first time in over a decade I managed to completely push beach and volleyball out of my mind. I settled into my fall coaching duties, work, video games, 2 workouts a week, eating lots of carbs, etc. Barring the occasional chat with Matty, Adam, or TC, I gave the beach no thought.
And then, today, I saw this. So now, even though it's Friday in December I'll be going to the gym and doing my plyos which aren't supposed to start until January.
And yes, this video will cover the menu to the right but I don't care. I want you to see it in all it's glory.
For the first time in over a decade I managed to completely push beach and volleyball out of my mind. I settled into my fall coaching duties, work, video games, 2 workouts a week, eating lots of carbs, etc. Barring the occasional chat with Matty, Adam, or TC, I gave the beach no thought.
And then, today, I saw this. So now, even though it's Friday in December I'll be going to the gym and doing my plyos which aren't supposed to start until January.
And yes, this video will cover the menu to the right but I don't care. I want you to see it in all it's glory.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
The sad state of gaming
Game technology is getting better every day. Record breaking $ amounts are pouring into the industry. So why is the core of the gaming community so disappointed? Every new blockbuster is game is treated with derision by the true fans of the franchise.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Amazing Part 2
This clip is from 2006. Much of what it hails as cutting edge graphics is already dated and obsolete.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Max Attacks
In the first 2 football games of his life, Max Mekanik, starting Tailback for the Bellevue Black Vampires PeeWee football team, has ammassed over 200 yards rushing, and 6 touchdowns on just 15 carries.
Most impressively is his focus and discipline during the game. Off the field he's as ADD and tempremental as the next 5 year old boy. But on the field he transforms into a machine. He responds to every command with a sharp and resounding "Yes, Sir!". He's the first to hustle to his position and line up. He doesn't lose focus on the ball and some of his cutbacks are VERY mature for a 5 yr old. I once gave him a quick tip about not looking behind him so much once he breaks into the open and just focus on his speed since looking back will slow him down. Without missing a beat a said "It won't happen again.". I credit his Tae-Kwon-Do training for this mental discipline.
I'm so proud of him. His cousin Koll is a heck of a stud with close to 100 yards rushing only 2nd to Max and an absolute shut down corner with the best pursuit angles and containment discipline I've seen out of any 6 yr old. He made a touchdown saving pull to stop the other team from scoring on the only play where they actually crossed midfield against our stingy defense.
I don't know why but I still get nervous before every one of his games. Only football. Baseball, Soccer, & Hoops games will barely get my heart rate above 50 but I still get butterflies before every one of Max's football games.
Most impressively is his focus and discipline during the game. Off the field he's as ADD and tempremental as the next 5 year old boy. But on the field he transforms into a machine. He responds to every command with a sharp and resounding "Yes, Sir!". He's the first to hustle to his position and line up. He doesn't lose focus on the ball and some of his cutbacks are VERY mature for a 5 yr old. I once gave him a quick tip about not looking behind him so much once he breaks into the open and just focus on his speed since looking back will slow him down. Without missing a beat a said "It won't happen again.". I credit his Tae-Kwon-Do training for this mental discipline.
I'm so proud of him. His cousin Koll is a heck of a stud with close to 100 yards rushing only 2nd to Max and an absolute shut down corner with the best pursuit angles and containment discipline I've seen out of any 6 yr old. He made a touchdown saving pull to stop the other team from scoring on the only play where they actually crossed midfield against our stingy defense.
I don't know why but I still get nervous before every one of his games. Only football. Baseball, Soccer, & Hoops games will barely get my heart rate above 50 but I still get butterflies before every one of Max's football games.
Seaside Part 4 - Break & Release
Read Part 3 Here
Once the booze and painkillers kicked in I felt a lot better. I tried to have another conversation with Matt and he seemed to finally be getting over the disaster too. We decide to slip into our alter egos, ArdAtak & MattyCakes. From that point on it was PARTY TIME!
10:55 a.m.
ArdAtak asks the team getting creamed by Clay and Brian what their team name is.
“Keith & Matt” is the reply.
“PizzaBack … got it thanks.”
ArdAtak proceeds to jot “PizzaBack” on the score card.
He later had to clarify that it was a mistake and in no way related to the unfortunate acne problems suffered by the losing team.
11:29 a.m
ArdAtak asks PizzaBack if they would consider it a conflict of interest if he ref’d, kept score, took pictures, AND cheered for his friends (who were absolutely crushing them at the time).
MattyCakes declared this to be unfair so he offered to keep score, leaving ArdAtak to continue refing, cheering, and taking photos.
12:33 p.m.
Khasha and Thoeum decide to play a “Player – Coach” match with a couple of novice players they’d been mentoring over the summer. They choose to play it on the court directly next to the men’s pre-crossover game. Thoeum’s primary goal was to keep the novice players from shanking balls into the high-stakes game next to them.
1:44 p.m.
Khasha declares that he didn’t think it was possible for anyone to play at 12% effort but Thoeum just got done proving that it was possible. Thoeum sited his concerns from 12:33 (above) as the reason.
2:36 p.m.
ArdAtak and MattyCakes watch a good team from San Diego lose in the crossover. They never once stopped smiling and picking each other up. It was embarrassing to watch how they handled losing with such class and high spirits. ArdAtak tells MattyCakes: “We got good at winning together but never learned how to lose together. Maybe it’s time we start taking pointers from these guys.”
3:05 p.m.
Adam Leong, AKA A-Bomb, AKA Dustin is playing in the crossover with Khasha and Thoeums roommate, Kanani, who drove all the way up from Santa Barbara to carry Adam. ArdAtak is snapping mad photos. They’re going against a team from Minnesota featuring a monster blocker similar to the one ArdAtak stuffed and defeated earlier in the day. As such, ArdAtak decides to once again multi-task by acting as both the team photographer and coach. He’s confident that his earlier experience from defeating a monster blocker qualifies him to coach Adam to similar results. He’s bouncing around snapping shots and yelling pointers like a ferret on crack. “Don’t drop your elbow”, “Even if you’re chipping, be sure to max jump and reach high”, or true gems of wisdom like “Don’t be scared”.
Much to everyone’s surprise, ArdAtak fails in his coaching debut. Adam and Kanani have to settle for 3rd place.
4:30 p.m.
The crowd on center court for the men’s final is massive. ArdAtak decides to take a bottle of Mike’s Hard Lemonade from MattyCakes. MattyCakes won’t let go. He declares: “I will die before I let go of this bottle. ArdAtak twists the bottle and the sweet sticky contents pour all over MattyCakes’ freshly shorn scrotum. He lets go of the bottle. Miraculously, he doesn’t die. ArdAtak savors the last few drops of nectar in the bottle while flashing his #5 smile.
5:33 p.m.
Paul and Kelly finally show up to catch the last 10 minutes of the men’s final. They had initially left Seattle on Friday hoping to watch their friends (us) play at Seaside. However, after missing 2 ferries, a midnight pit stop in Olympia, getting lost, and going to the Cannon Beach retirement community by mistake, the don’t show up until Saturday at 5:30. Despite his enhanced condition, ArdAtak does some quick Math to discover they spent more time GETTING to Seaside than they will spend AT Seaside. They are total wrecks and the story on how they got there is a separate tale which I may post at some point if Kelly ever gets around to writing it.
6:13 p.m.
Paul takes off with Adam in order to see if he can get in some trouble.
ArdAtak and MattyCakes grab a bite at the beach and carry their cooler, which is by now mostly filled with sand, back to their room. They slowly come out of their alter ego modes as they limp home as Ardi & Matt.
For dinner, we were invited to the house that Kyle, Harley, and Vu were renting. We show up and Vu has the grill going in full effect. He served up a feast and we all pigged out and laughed about the stupid antics we pulled of in our youth and the stupid antics we’re still trying to pull of in our old has-been state. Afterwards we go to the Shilo Inn where Adam hovers over the dinner table of some chicks we didn’t know while Khasha and I have a very interesting conversation with Rico from Olympia who I had played against a few times in yesteryears and hadn’t spoke to in over a decade due to some old reffing beef from a tourney in the late 90’s. In summary, he tells us that he’s half Jaguar. When pressed for an explanation he tells a story about some aliens who wanted to mine the earth but were too fragile for the harsh environment of the planet so they mixed their DNA with local animals like Jaguars, Apes, Elephants, etc. to create a more robust breed and that is how humans came to be. Khasha declares that Rico is Ardi’s new life coach.
Adam rallies the crew to go to a players party at the Elk lodge. Yeah … the Elk Lodge … and it’s exactly what you’re thinking it is. On the way there Matt picks up Rico and throws him into a bush. Except that he didn’t really let go of him during the throw so it was more like he picked up Rico and then decided to dive into a bush with Rico over his shoulder. As Karma would have it, Rico came out unscathed while Matt had some nice sexy scratches on his face. Adam had extra tickets so we get in for free and after another pain killer and a couple of drinks I’m having fun chatting with all the ballers from distant lands.
Sometime after midnight Adam pulls me aside and tells me that the bag of pain killers in his back pocket had exploded when he sat down. Ardi’s new life coach, Rico, decided to offer his wisdom.
“This pocket can not leave the premises. We must investigate this situation immediately. To the bathroom, at once.”
I skip the trip to the bathroom but a few minutes later I see Rico getting tossed out of the party by a bouncer with blood coming out of his nose. The bouncers pants were falling off. Kelly got a good photo of the fiasco. I grab Adam and go outside but he’s nowhere to be seen.
5 of us head to an afterhours party at a players house but on the way there Matt, Paul, and Kelly decide to follow some random people into an elevator. Adam and I shake our heads and continue to the party. A few minutes later I get a call from Kelly telling me that he’s in an elevator all by himself since Matt and Paul decided to ditch him. Now I have NO IDEA how you can sneak out on someone in an elevator but my next move proved that I was in no position to pass judgment. You see, what I MEANT to do was to tell Kelly that everything is going to be OK. I wanted to tell him that as soon as I get to the party I’ll call him back with directions. What I ACTUALLY did was to simply hang up on him.
The party was small and quaint. I meet a couple of guys from Cali and we BS for about 25 minutes. Paul and Matt show up shortly afterwards with Kelly in tow. He was not pleased about the hang up.
“I call you and tell you I’m lost in a strange town and you hang up on me. Thanks bro.”
I had no rational excuse for that one. But it wasn’t intentional. I get tired and head home. Eventually Paul and the boys get kicked out of the party for god knows what and come home. We wake up a few hours later and head out to breakfast. After one of the best omelets and worst bloody marys I’ve ever had we hit the road and head home.
Since Kelly wanted to take a special shortcut home, Paul is riding back with us. He starts hitting the drinks early and is pretty much trashed the whole way back home. We hit some terrible Tacoma traffic and Matt misses his flight so we drop him off at Bareqs pad since he’s closest to the airport.
I drop Khasha and Paul off, drive home, and sleep for 13 hours.
I played a few more times after Seaside. Eventually my Fall coaching obligations and the weather ended my season. I took over 100 photos at Seaside and posted them online. Everyone loved them. Unfortunately, as the photog, I got no photos of Matt and I.
I got a call from Matt a few weeks later. He had me look up the online home page for Seaside results and right there, as the main cover page, was the only picture of us from that whole trip. Matty, bump setting the ball with both feet off the ground, something I always chew him out for, and me, rushing the attack and running under the ball way too early, something I always chew myself out for. It was somewhat comical and bittersweet.
It’s a warm sunny Saturday in September. I’m crouched on the grass with Max’s Peewee team of 5 year old boys huddled around me. 6 little boys, safe in the huddle, all of them seeing things the same way as I once did. Hair matted down with sweat, cheeks pink from the heat, smiles wide with joy. The Grey Zombies are ready to roll.
“OK boys. This is what we’ve been practicing for. Remember, no matter what, you’re a team. Take care of each other out there. Pick each other up. Let’s go spank these guys.”
I watch them play. I shout instructions. Like the little Studs that they are, they hustle and make me proud.
I remember Matt’s question. “If you’re not having fun, why do you even play?”
Sometimes we forget why we play. We listen to the BS and tune out the soul of the game. But at this moment, watching Max and his friends running around, in the zone and without a care, it all comes back to me.
I play because I love the sea.
because I love the sun.
I love the sand.
my partner.
I’m a warrior. A competitor. I’m a jock through and through. And the warriors blood, sweat, and pain is forever cemented in my soul.
Once the booze and painkillers kicked in I felt a lot better. I tried to have another conversation with Matt and he seemed to finally be getting over the disaster too. We decide to slip into our alter egos, ArdAtak & MattyCakes. From that point on it was PARTY TIME!
10:55 a.m.
ArdAtak asks the team getting creamed by Clay and Brian what their team name is.
“Keith & Matt” is the reply.
“PizzaBack … got it thanks.”
ArdAtak proceeds to jot “PizzaBack” on the score card.
He later had to clarify that it was a mistake and in no way related to the unfortunate acne problems suffered by the losing team.
11:29 a.m
ArdAtak asks PizzaBack if they would consider it a conflict of interest if he ref’d, kept score, took pictures, AND cheered for his friends (who were absolutely crushing them at the time).
MattyCakes declared this to be unfair so he offered to keep score, leaving ArdAtak to continue refing, cheering, and taking photos.
12:33 p.m.
Khasha and Thoeum decide to play a “Player – Coach” match with a couple of novice players they’d been mentoring over the summer. They choose to play it on the court directly next to the men’s pre-crossover game. Thoeum’s primary goal was to keep the novice players from shanking balls into the high-stakes game next to them.
1:44 p.m.
Khasha declares that he didn’t think it was possible for anyone to play at 12% effort but Thoeum just got done proving that it was possible. Thoeum sited his concerns from 12:33 (above) as the reason.
2:36 p.m.
ArdAtak and MattyCakes watch a good team from San Diego lose in the crossover. They never once stopped smiling and picking each other up. It was embarrassing to watch how they handled losing with such class and high spirits. ArdAtak tells MattyCakes: “We got good at winning together but never learned how to lose together. Maybe it’s time we start taking pointers from these guys.”
3:05 p.m.
Adam Leong, AKA A-Bomb, AKA Dustin is playing in the crossover with Khasha and Thoeums roommate, Kanani, who drove all the way up from Santa Barbara to carry Adam. ArdAtak is snapping mad photos. They’re going against a team from Minnesota featuring a monster blocker similar to the one ArdAtak stuffed and defeated earlier in the day. As such, ArdAtak decides to once again multi-task by acting as both the team photographer and coach. He’s confident that his earlier experience from defeating a monster blocker qualifies him to coach Adam to similar results. He’s bouncing around snapping shots and yelling pointers like a ferret on crack. “Don’t drop your elbow”, “Even if you’re chipping, be sure to max jump and reach high”, or true gems of wisdom like “Don’t be scared”.
Much to everyone’s surprise, ArdAtak fails in his coaching debut. Adam and Kanani have to settle for 3rd place.
4:30 p.m.
The crowd on center court for the men’s final is massive. ArdAtak decides to take a bottle of Mike’s Hard Lemonade from MattyCakes. MattyCakes won’t let go. He declares: “I will die before I let go of this bottle. ArdAtak twists the bottle and the sweet sticky contents pour all over MattyCakes’ freshly shorn scrotum. He lets go of the bottle. Miraculously, he doesn’t die. ArdAtak savors the last few drops of nectar in the bottle while flashing his #5 smile.
5:33 p.m.
Paul and Kelly finally show up to catch the last 10 minutes of the men’s final. They had initially left Seattle on Friday hoping to watch their friends (us) play at Seaside. However, after missing 2 ferries, a midnight pit stop in Olympia, getting lost, and going to the Cannon Beach retirement community by mistake, the don’t show up until Saturday at 5:30. Despite his enhanced condition, ArdAtak does some quick Math to discover they spent more time GETTING to Seaside than they will spend AT Seaside. They are total wrecks and the story on how they got there is a separate tale which I may post at some point if Kelly ever gets around to writing it.
6:13 p.m.
Paul takes off with Adam in order to see if he can get in some trouble.
ArdAtak and MattyCakes grab a bite at the beach and carry their cooler, which is by now mostly filled with sand, back to their room. They slowly come out of their alter ego modes as they limp home as Ardi & Matt.
For dinner, we were invited to the house that Kyle, Harley, and Vu were renting. We show up and Vu has the grill going in full effect. He served up a feast and we all pigged out and laughed about the stupid antics we pulled of in our youth and the stupid antics we’re still trying to pull of in our old has-been state. Afterwards we go to the Shilo Inn where Adam hovers over the dinner table of some chicks we didn’t know while Khasha and I have a very interesting conversation with Rico from Olympia who I had played against a few times in yesteryears and hadn’t spoke to in over a decade due to some old reffing beef from a tourney in the late 90’s. In summary, he tells us that he’s half Jaguar. When pressed for an explanation he tells a story about some aliens who wanted to mine the earth but were too fragile for the harsh environment of the planet so they mixed their DNA with local animals like Jaguars, Apes, Elephants, etc. to create a more robust breed and that is how humans came to be. Khasha declares that Rico is Ardi’s new life coach.
Adam rallies the crew to go to a players party at the Elk lodge. Yeah … the Elk Lodge … and it’s exactly what you’re thinking it is. On the way there Matt picks up Rico and throws him into a bush. Except that he didn’t really let go of him during the throw so it was more like he picked up Rico and then decided to dive into a bush with Rico over his shoulder. As Karma would have it, Rico came out unscathed while Matt had some nice sexy scratches on his face. Adam had extra tickets so we get in for free and after another pain killer and a couple of drinks I’m having fun chatting with all the ballers from distant lands.
Sometime after midnight Adam pulls me aside and tells me that the bag of pain killers in his back pocket had exploded when he sat down. Ardi’s new life coach, Rico, decided to offer his wisdom.
“This pocket can not leave the premises. We must investigate this situation immediately. To the bathroom, at once.”
I skip the trip to the bathroom but a few minutes later I see Rico getting tossed out of the party by a bouncer with blood coming out of his nose. The bouncers pants were falling off. Kelly got a good photo of the fiasco. I grab Adam and go outside but he’s nowhere to be seen.
5 of us head to an afterhours party at a players house but on the way there Matt, Paul, and Kelly decide to follow some random people into an elevator. Adam and I shake our heads and continue to the party. A few minutes later I get a call from Kelly telling me that he’s in an elevator all by himself since Matt and Paul decided to ditch him. Now I have NO IDEA how you can sneak out on someone in an elevator but my next move proved that I was in no position to pass judgment. You see, what I MEANT to do was to tell Kelly that everything is going to be OK. I wanted to tell him that as soon as I get to the party I’ll call him back with directions. What I ACTUALLY did was to simply hang up on him.
The party was small and quaint. I meet a couple of guys from Cali and we BS for about 25 minutes. Paul and Matt show up shortly afterwards with Kelly in tow. He was not pleased about the hang up.
“I call you and tell you I’m lost in a strange town and you hang up on me. Thanks bro.”
I had no rational excuse for that one. But it wasn’t intentional. I get tired and head home. Eventually Paul and the boys get kicked out of the party for god knows what and come home. We wake up a few hours later and head out to breakfast. After one of the best omelets and worst bloody marys I’ve ever had we hit the road and head home.
Since Kelly wanted to take a special shortcut home, Paul is riding back with us. He starts hitting the drinks early and is pretty much trashed the whole way back home. We hit some terrible Tacoma traffic and Matt misses his flight so we drop him off at Bareqs pad since he’s closest to the airport.
I drop Khasha and Paul off, drive home, and sleep for 13 hours.
I played a few more times after Seaside. Eventually my Fall coaching obligations and the weather ended my season. I took over 100 photos at Seaside and posted them online. Everyone loved them. Unfortunately, as the photog, I got no photos of Matt and I.
I got a call from Matt a few weeks later. He had me look up the online home page for Seaside results and right there, as the main cover page, was the only picture of us from that whole trip. Matty, bump setting the ball with both feet off the ground, something I always chew him out for, and me, rushing the attack and running under the ball way too early, something I always chew myself out for. It was somewhat comical and bittersweet.
It’s a warm sunny Saturday in September. I’m crouched on the grass with Max’s Peewee team of 5 year old boys huddled around me. 6 little boys, safe in the huddle, all of them seeing things the same way as I once did. Hair matted down with sweat, cheeks pink from the heat, smiles wide with joy. The Grey Zombies are ready to roll.
“OK boys. This is what we’ve been practicing for. Remember, no matter what, you’re a team. Take care of each other out there. Pick each other up. Let’s go spank these guys.”
I watch them play. I shout instructions. Like the little Studs that they are, they hustle and make me proud.
I remember Matt’s question. “If you’re not having fun, why do you even play?”
Sometimes we forget why we play. We listen to the BS and tune out the soul of the game. But at this moment, watching Max and his friends running around, in the zone and without a care, it all comes back to me.
I play because I love the sea.
because I love the sun.
I love the sand.
my partner.
I’m a warrior. A competitor. I’m a jock through and through. And the warriors blood, sweat, and pain is forever cemented in my soul.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Roadtrippers of a Lesser God
By Kelly Kortman
Editors Note:
Given the turbo lifestyle of Kelly and his elk, this post has been password protected. Hit me up for the password if you want to read it. If you're considering hiring or marrying Kelly or any of his friends, stop reading right now.
P.S. After entering your password, if you get a clientside javascript prompt about the length of the script just hit the "No" button (you might have to hit it twice). Trust me, it's harmless and your PC will NOT freeze.
Click Here to Enter Password and Read Kellys Report
Given the turbo lifestyle of Kelly and his elk, this post has been password protected. Hit me up for the password if you want to read it. If you're considering hiring or marrying Kelly or any of his friends, stop reading right now.
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Click Here to Enter Password and Read Kellys Report
Unfortunately, it appears that Kelly's story was too hot to handle and too cold to hold so it had to come down. All I can show you is this fantastic photo. Hit me up for the original transcript if you're still dying to read it.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Facelift
So I just gave this bloggy blog a new facelift. Thanks for all the feedback on the Seaside stories. A lot of peeps are harassing me for part 4 which is going to be the last part (I think). Maybe if I wasn't staying up late playing Halo: Reach every night I'd have some brain power to finish it off. Stay tuned. Stay humble. Stay sexy.
ArdAtak out.
ArdAtak out.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Seaside Part 3 - The Agony of Victory
Read Part 2 Here
I went to bed early but still didn’t fall asleep ‘til 3:00 or 4:00 am. Got up at 7:00 super stiff. I put some heat on my back and then put on Matt’s neoprene back brace. We scarfed down a quick breakfast and limped down to the beach.
The beach was amazing at that time of day. A few teams could be seen warming up but otherwise it was completely deserted. Even the wind had decided to sleep in and all was calm. Except for me. I was working hard to warm up and get all the stiffness out and also thinking about our game plan. We were playing Batman and Robin again. The 6’10 monster.
We had talked about how to handle these guys since we knew we’d be playing them again this morning. The most obvious step was better passing. Not so much a “choice” but nonetheless, without that step all else would fail. What we could control and execute by choice however, was to set each other a bit off the net to give the hitter room to bang around Batman’s big block. We also worked on our calls for dealing with the open net by going short at times. We’re both habitually hitters and rarely focus on short chips and shots. Bad habits from the turbo days of our youth on the grass courts perhaps.
We started out strong in the first game and gradually extended our lead never really letting up or making any major mistakes. I passed well and we won by a decent margin.
The 2nd game started out close with both teams siding out consistently. We were tied up in the mid-teens when I got 2 back to back blocks on the 6’10 monster to give us a little breathing room. I stuffed him good and it felt awesome to roof a much taller player like that. I could see them getting a bit rattled but I knew they would bear down and go out fighting. Matt was still struggling with his sets a little but since I was already expecting sets off the net (per our game plan) it was a bit easier to adjust to his sets. I gave him a perfect pass at 20-19 for an easy set to put the game away but he chucked the ball into the antenna, giving the other team a free point and tying us at 20-20. It was an exact repeat of the spastic set that sent us into overtime against Harley and Vu when I had a chance to swing for the win. I have no idea why he’d spaz out like that on crucial game points but it definitely got to me. I put aside my frustration and dug in. The game was going into overtime. Matt’s next set was off the net and I was ready for it. I put all my frustration into it and tooled it off Batmans giant hands. Not smart, but it felt good at the time. The last point was a decently long rally where we both had some nice digs and the winning point was a pokey cutty that Matt dropped in off my diving bump set.
We won. We had just beat a decent team that had beat us the day before but I didn’t feel anything. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t enjoying sweet revenge. I was frustrated. I immediately pulled Matt aside and tried to figure out why he keeps setting the ball over on crucial game winning points. I guess I felt like while he may not be able to control exactly where the set goes he should at least be able to dictate where it doesn’t go. In retrospect, I realize it was petty of me to dwel on past plays instead of staying in the moment. Even Matt’s wise words failed to make a dent in my bad attitude.
“We just won! We beat those fuckers asses! How can you not be happy? If you’re not having fun why do you even play?”
Good question my friend. The wind was starting to pick up. Combined with my bad attitude, it was not a good omen.
Our next match was against two very good friends and all around great guys, Clay and Brian from my home beach. Clay, a former pitcher, was using the rising wind and his skills from the mound to deliver some SICK floaty’s which gave us some trouble. Not a lot of shanks but less than perfect passes which taxed Matty’s ability to get the set to the net and my ability to hit a moving target off the net. I don’t think I had lost to Brian all summer but he played really good defense and got more digs than I’ve ever seen him get before. We kept it close but the wind and our own attitude eventually beat us. Towards the end of the 2nd game Matt was getting irritated by me not giving him calls on the passes. Clays knucklers were moving so much I couldn’t even tell who they were going to until the last second. Finally, after Clay aced us on a hubby-wife serve Matt started screaming and making an ugly spectacle. A few plays later he turned to the audience and started rattling to friends and strangers mid-game about something I did wrong. Conversely, I got quieter and quieter no longer able to even fake the usual enthusiasm I play with. This irritated Matt as much as his public spectacles were irritating me so the chemistry was spiraling downward. I have no idea how we even managed to keep it close.
The loss knocked us out of the tourney. We’d made it to the 2nd day and won more games than we had lost so all in all I should have been happy. But the way we lost the last one was tough to swallow. I tried to talk to Matt after the game to make sure we’re cool and try to put the train wreck behind us. He said that it wasn’t fun at all and that he’d never play in a tourney with me again. I already knew this to be true but, given the circumstances and how we had even ended up in the tourney to begin with, I found it ironic. It hurt to hear him say that. I wanted to blame the wretched insomnia but it was too late for excuses.
Khasha is out too. Apparently Sophy showed up hung over 5 minutes before the game and they never got off to a strong start. He’s already hitting the meds and slips Matt and I a pain killer each which I eagerly down as we sit to ref the next game featuring Clay and Brian. Clay rattled 10 points in a row in the next game for a 10-0 start. His floatys into the wind were really nasty and I felt a little bit better about being able to handle them at least better than this team getting creamed in front of us.
As Herm Edwards would say, “You play to win the game” or in our case, the tourney. But if you’re going to get knocked out early it’s better to lose to strangers. If you’re going to get knocked out late, it’s better to lose to friends. I guess I figure if there’s cash, prizes, or a spot on the podium at stake, I’d rather lose it to a friend. But if you’re gonna 1-2 BBQ it’s better if your friends don’t even know about it. But you know they’ll always ask.
I didn't mind losing to Clay & Brian at this stage of the tourney but I was concerned about Matt and the nagging feeling that I had let him down.
To Be Continuted ...
Go To Part 4
I went to bed early but still didn’t fall asleep ‘til 3:00 or 4:00 am. Got up at 7:00 super stiff. I put some heat on my back and then put on Matt’s neoprene back brace. We scarfed down a quick breakfast and limped down to the beach.
The beach was amazing at that time of day. A few teams could be seen warming up but otherwise it was completely deserted. Even the wind had decided to sleep in and all was calm. Except for me. I was working hard to warm up and get all the stiffness out and also thinking about our game plan. We were playing Batman and Robin again. The 6’10 monster.
We had talked about how to handle these guys since we knew we’d be playing them again this morning. The most obvious step was better passing. Not so much a “choice” but nonetheless, without that step all else would fail. What we could control and execute by choice however, was to set each other a bit off the net to give the hitter room to bang around Batman’s big block. We also worked on our calls for dealing with the open net by going short at times. We’re both habitually hitters and rarely focus on short chips and shots. Bad habits from the turbo days of our youth on the grass courts perhaps.
We started out strong in the first game and gradually extended our lead never really letting up or making any major mistakes. I passed well and we won by a decent margin.
The 2nd game started out close with both teams siding out consistently. We were tied up in the mid-teens when I got 2 back to back blocks on the 6’10 monster to give us a little breathing room. I stuffed him good and it felt awesome to roof a much taller player like that. I could see them getting a bit rattled but I knew they would bear down and go out fighting. Matt was still struggling with his sets a little but since I was already expecting sets off the net (per our game plan) it was a bit easier to adjust to his sets. I gave him a perfect pass at 20-19 for an easy set to put the game away but he chucked the ball into the antenna, giving the other team a free point and tying us at 20-20. It was an exact repeat of the spastic set that sent us into overtime against Harley and Vu when I had a chance to swing for the win. I have no idea why he’d spaz out like that on crucial game points but it definitely got to me. I put aside my frustration and dug in. The game was going into overtime. Matt’s next set was off the net and I was ready for it. I put all my frustration into it and tooled it off Batmans giant hands. Not smart, but it felt good at the time. The last point was a decently long rally where we both had some nice digs and the winning point was a pokey cutty that Matt dropped in off my diving bump set.
We won. We had just beat a decent team that had beat us the day before but I didn’t feel anything. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t enjoying sweet revenge. I was frustrated. I immediately pulled Matt aside and tried to figure out why he keeps setting the ball over on crucial game winning points. I guess I felt like while he may not be able to control exactly where the set goes he should at least be able to dictate where it doesn’t go. In retrospect, I realize it was petty of me to dwel on past plays instead of staying in the moment. Even Matt’s wise words failed to make a dent in my bad attitude.
“We just won! We beat those fuckers asses! How can you not be happy? If you’re not having fun why do you even play?”
Good question my friend. The wind was starting to pick up. Combined with my bad attitude, it was not a good omen.
Our next match was against two very good friends and all around great guys, Clay and Brian from my home beach. Clay, a former pitcher, was using the rising wind and his skills from the mound to deliver some SICK floaty’s which gave us some trouble. Not a lot of shanks but less than perfect passes which taxed Matty’s ability to get the set to the net and my ability to hit a moving target off the net. I don’t think I had lost to Brian all summer but he played really good defense and got more digs than I’ve ever seen him get before. We kept it close but the wind and our own attitude eventually beat us. Towards the end of the 2nd game Matt was getting irritated by me not giving him calls on the passes. Clays knucklers were moving so much I couldn’t even tell who they were going to until the last second. Finally, after Clay aced us on a hubby-wife serve Matt started screaming and making an ugly spectacle. A few plays later he turned to the audience and started rattling to friends and strangers mid-game about something I did wrong. Conversely, I got quieter and quieter no longer able to even fake the usual enthusiasm I play with. This irritated Matt as much as his public spectacles were irritating me so the chemistry was spiraling downward. I have no idea how we even managed to keep it close.
The loss knocked us out of the tourney. We’d made it to the 2nd day and won more games than we had lost so all in all I should have been happy. But the way we lost the last one was tough to swallow. I tried to talk to Matt after the game to make sure we’re cool and try to put the train wreck behind us. He said that it wasn’t fun at all and that he’d never play in a tourney with me again. I already knew this to be true but, given the circumstances and how we had even ended up in the tourney to begin with, I found it ironic. It hurt to hear him say that. I wanted to blame the wretched insomnia but it was too late for excuses.
Khasha is out too. Apparently Sophy showed up hung over 5 minutes before the game and they never got off to a strong start. He’s already hitting the meds and slips Matt and I a pain killer each which I eagerly down as we sit to ref the next game featuring Clay and Brian. Clay rattled 10 points in a row in the next game for a 10-0 start. His floatys into the wind were really nasty and I felt a little bit better about being able to handle them at least better than this team getting creamed in front of us.
As Herm Edwards would say, “You play to win the game” or in our case, the tourney. But if you’re going to get knocked out early it’s better to lose to strangers. If you’re going to get knocked out late, it’s better to lose to friends. I guess I figure if there’s cash, prizes, or a spot on the podium at stake, I’d rather lose it to a friend. But if you’re gonna 1-2 BBQ it’s better if your friends don’t even know about it. But you know they’ll always ask.
I didn't mind losing to Clay & Brian at this stage of the tourney but I was concerned about Matt and the nagging feeling that I had let him down.
To Be Continuted ...
Go To Part 4
My Cab Ride In Amsterdam
So I had to share a cab with these kids in Amsterdam. It was very entertaining. When we got to my hotel I asked the cabie to keep driving so we could hang out some more.
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