A little character development

I'm in the process of reading "Bringing Down the House" - which is the true story that was recently adapted to the big screen in "21"...one of the best movies I've seen in quite some time. The book delves straight into a strong form of character development by the author Ben Mezrich, and you can't help but get swept into the story from the get-go.

Character development is something that happens in all our lives, rarely limited to only our story-telling natures. Sure, when you're introducing someone to a group of loved ones or friends, you're going to give a few high points of this new person and the small affect they've had on your life in order to provide your audience with a bit of perspective. Then again, I can find tremendous character development opportunities being provided by every turn I seemingly take the last few days (just see my most recent blog entry for an example).

With this being said, I'd like to offer up a preview of how I'm trying to put some of this into words and paint a picture with my first real attempt at writing a novel. That being said, meet Uncle Bernie...

The khaki hat perched atop his head showed weathered stains and fade that accumulated during most of his adult years as a 43-year-old citizen of Mississippi. Like everything about Bernie (or “Uncle Bernie” to the array of nieces and nephews his brothers and sisters had parented over the last decade), this hat told a story.

But, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. As mentioned before, Bernie is a 43-year-old native of the Magnolia state, residing most of his life in the Naval airbase town of Meridian. Throughout his days, moments with friends and family alike had provided him with some fascinating (and mostly unbelievable to non-witnesses) stories, and those memories are what separates this misplaced tourist from others.

Bernie’s physique features a tall, sleek stature and a chiseled face topped with spots of gray hairs littering the once strawberry blonde locks from his youth. A size 12 foot that is almost always exposed to the elements via flip flops, often leading to some interesting sunburns adjacent to his gangly toes, serves as his roots to the ground below. None of these attributes can hold a candle to the very essence of Uncle Bernie: his heart and his imagination.

One of Bernie’s favorite pastimes is to share those memories to any and all who would listen, and his favorite audience is one comprised of his nieces and nephews. While his brothers and sisters often warned their offspring of his eccentric behavior, it was hard not to appreciate his swagger and deliberate ability to capture their interests. They knew well that, when the hat and Hawaiian shirts found their way out of the closet and became Uncle Bernie’s attire, an intriguing tale (most often involving their parents at some point) was on its way.

An avid sailor during the first couple of years following high school, he now spent his days as a CPA in Laurel, a small town near his stomping grounds of Meridian. His desire to help people, especially during a high-stress time such as tax season, coupled with an innate ability to do complex calculations in his head were two of many traits that could quickly transform a one-on-one meeting into a four-hour medley of experiences and advice derived from one of those famous memories.

Because of all these things, it’s not hard to see how people find themselves drawn to the non-imposing Bernie. While it was never his true intention, his high school and college friends (which comprise most of his “brothers and sisters” in addition to his one true sibling, Michelle) were all “experts” in different fields. This allowed Bernie to experience different environments from one day to the next depending on which friend he was carousing with on a particular afternoon or evening, all helping him to find ways to relate to his future customers.

Most of the stories are of the happy-go-lucky nature; however, there are just as many tales to be shared featuring heartache and sorrow. It is by knowing these simple truths that you can now meet Uncle Bernie as another concert of experiences is about to begin...

This definitely hurts the most...

I'm facing an uphill battle I never thought would be possible a week ago. I know that everything happens for a reason, and I've been pushing through my life with this entire mindset. I can't see that reason right now, and I'm not really sure I want to, not knowing if I can handle what it may or may not lead to in my future.

To help decipher that first paragraph, a little background...The past two summers, I've been a volunteer coach in the Tupelo Youth Baseball Association 11-12-year-old league. Very few things have ever brought me as much joy as watching these guys succeed and finally "get" what you're trying to teach and coach them upon. Last year, I was the head coach of the city all-star team. I readily volunteered for the same duties this summer.

Now, one thing that is different this summer from last year is the emergence of a larger swell of 11-year-olds that would appreciate the opportunities to go out and compete against a higher level of caliber player they don't necessarily see in the park and recreation season. So, the approval for two teams was made - I'd coach the 12s and a guy named Gary would coach the 11s. Seems simple enough, right?

My park and rec team this year is the best in the league. We currently sport a 5-0 record, outscoring our opponents 45-14 in those five games (truth be told, if not for conservative base coaching at third, it could be a lot worse). On my team, young Ty Wheeler is the ace pitcher. Heck, it goes without saying that Ty is the best player in this league. A no-doubter when it comes to selecting an all-star team.

The catch? Ty's 11. His parents approached me after the first set of tryouts that both of us missed (due to my being in New Orleans for Jimmy Buffett and his playing the state soccer tournament) and asked if it would be possible for Ty to play up with the 12-year-old team since it'd give him more of a challenge. I would have loved to have Ty on the team, but I had to double-check with our baseball director to make sure it'd be OK.

A total of 12 11-year-olds had tried out for Gary's roster, and Suzanne (baseball director) gave me the options Ty'd have to play on my all-star team. We abode by those rules, and I let the 11-year-old coach know Ty would be playing up with us. Now, I was approached by another 11-year-old player who asked for the same opportunity, citing the desire to be more challenged than playing kids his own age. I granted him the tryout and applied the same rules I had for Ty, which I assumed to be the fair thing in this situation.

When Gary found out about this, he went to Suzanne and complained that I was poaching his best players and hindering his opportunity to have a competitive lineup even though all I was doing was going by the rules she set for me and trying to make my team better in the process. He began telling parents that 11-year-olds were going to take the spots of 12-year-olds, which led to us having to go in front of the TYBA Board of Directors today.

I felt betrayed the moment I stepped foot in the room at the meeting. There Gary was, schmoozing it up with the directors while I arrived after the meeting had started (even though it was 10 minutes prior to when Suzanne had told me to show up). "What's with this kid screwing up this vendor's pitch for snow cones to sell in the new concession stands???" is what all the eyes in the room were screaming at me as I took my seat. It only got worse from there.

To sum things up before posting something I sent later this afternoon after tears of frustration and anger, Ty will not be allowed to move up to play with players more on his ability level. I have to go back and tell his parents all of this information, but we couldn't put the two age groups together to set up the most competitive advantage (which is what an all-star team is supposed to do) because too many 11-year-old parents had already been told their kid was on the team. It was perfectly fine for me to have to backtrack to my parents, but God forbid Gary have to play on the same playing field and admit his own mistakes.

There were a few more things that crushed me today, and I'll outline those out in the following letter I sent to the president of the board just a few moments ago.

" Todd:

I just wanted to thank you and the board for their time today concerning our situation surrounding Ty Wheeler. While the outcome may not have gone in my favor, I understand the ruling and can deal with it. However, there were a few other things that really hurt a lot deeper than I let on in the meeting since I felt a little shell-shocked and betrayed.

First, I tried my very best to give Gary his time to make his case but did not receive the same courtesy from him while presenting mine. While I remained quiet and attentive through his speech, I hadn't spoken two sentences before he interjected his own thoughts. That's all on him, and I understand that, but no one quieted him down to allow me to continue. It was at this point that I could feel everything starting to slip away and said a couple of things I promised myself I wouldn't say concerning my assistant coach and his extremely vocal thoughts. I just ask that someone can do a better job of regulating something like that in the future, not really for my own sake but for someone else who may not necessarily know what they are getting into.

Second, I do not know Julie Smith, and she has no idea about anything concerning my character or personality. The fact that she pretty much called me a liar in front of a room of people who had never met me before...that does not sit well with me. When I brought this up to Suzanne during our call in the afternoon, all she could tell me was to take what Julie says "with a grain of salt" and that she "sometimes speaks before thinking about what she's saying." This does not dismiss her words or actions towards me, not when I'm out there volunteering sometimes four nights of my week to help 11-12-year-old boys be better baseball players. I won't hold my breath on this, but I think she owes me a big apology for that lone outburst. To rub salt in the wound, Gary was right along with her encouraging what she was saying.

Look, I know the board did what they thought was best for the league as a whole - which is its purpose by design. All I was doing was going by what Suzanne had told me earlier and laid it out for Ty and his parents the criteria he'd have to meet. Ty met and surpassed that criteria with flying colors. What I don't understand is how it's OK for me to have to go back and tell Ty's parents that what I had previously been told was incorrect but we can't have two teams because it'd be wrong for Gary to have to admit to those parents he got ahead of things. He wins what is best for him and not for Tupelo's all-star chances because he couldn't keep his own mouth shut around those parents. There are no rosters released to the public, and it was not too late to slip back and form one true team. We didn't have to cut the roster size at 12, and I would have gladly coached a team with 14 or 15 kids. Something about that fact just doesn't add up to me.

I'm still young (25, single, no kids and just trying to spend time around the game of baseball when it was the most fun for me) and am still impressionable with all of this, but what I saw in that room today from a group of adults made me weary to ever get involved with this again. Gary got his way through whining to Suzanne and won't learn from his mistakes like I did last year because he felt no recourse for his actions today. He accomplished exactly what he wanted to before he stepped foot inside that room. Besides the age factor, what the questions asked towards us told me was that it's perfectly fine for Gary to want to have a competitive team, to not have to spend $$$ on uniforms and travel costs and keep his team from going out and getting spanked. For me to want the same things and to have picked from the pool of players that tried out for my team, I was told, in so many words, "Let the kids go out and play (but you have to only pick the players we say you can pick)."

I never wanted to rock the boat. In two years, I've put forth my absolute best for both my players and for the city of Tupelo. What I learned today is, next time...I may have to rock the boat. I don't like that feeling, and I don't want to have to do something like this. At the same time, I feel as though I let Ty's parents down by not stooping to Gary's tactics. That's something that none of your board's words or assurances can ever replace in my heart, the feeling that I let this kid down.

Thanks again for your time. I'll do my best to make the city of Tupelo proud when we take the field for the district tournament.

Chris"

"You aren't going anywhere in Louisiana without at least one U-Turn..."

Looking back on the experience that was my first Jimmy Buffett concert, I can't think of a more appropriate quote than the one above, provided by Brittany Taylor through Jennifer Hipp Boully. Truth be told, we never limited ourselves to just one U-Turn during our two-day trip down to the bayou - those things came in pairs and threes.

Yep, folks, it's official: I'm a full-fledged Parrothead. The show was incredible, and the four of us (myself, Jeanie, Jaren and Jennifer - I just noticed that I was the odd-man out on the J-names...we should fix that) enjoyed the tunes Sir James Buffett (gah, another J!) and several laughs at the event known to all as JazzFest on May 3. I am pretty sure everyone else had as good of a time as I did, and I want to thank the three J-birds for going with me.

Now, detailing the excursion...Friday, I left work around noon and headed off to Columbus to get my oil changed and have lunch with my terrific mother. Soon afterwards, I was back on the road to Hattiesburg to meet up with Jeanie and Jaren. On the drive into the Pelican State, I tried to rehearse the two of them in some of the more classic Buffett tunes, but it mostly was swapping stories and backgrounds for Jaren.

(A side note: this was the first time I've really been able to celebrate in the close vicinity of Jeanie's birthday since before moving to Auburn for school. While it wasn't really her birthday and it's much belated now, I want to wish her a fantastic year as a 22-year-old.)

We arrived amidst the nightfall in Houma at the Boully residence to the welcoming snorts of Rascal and an open-armed Jennifer. Quickly, we departed for Outback to get some much-needed food before calling it a night. After all, we had to be cautious of the pending new addition to the Boully household.

Saturday morning, Jennifer and I headed to McDonalds for breakfast. Six hours later (really, it was 45 minutes although I'm not far off on my judgment), we got to place our order amongst the monsoon and waited some more. I talked to her about Robert and some of the stories he hadn't put on his blogging updates (all two of them), and she got caught up on some of the other things going on in the world of Chris "J" Rushing (OK, the "J" doesn't really work, but I wanted to fit in).

It took a few more U-Turns, but we got back to a hungry J duo at the apartment. Around 11:30 a.m., we braved the rain and wind and began our trek for New Orleans and Margaritaville. Jeanie was the pseudo-navigator in the Crescent City and did a fantastic job (despite Jaren's and my own doubts) of getting us to said restaurant. After lunch (which was amazing, by the way), we headed to the gift shop and made a few purchases before starting the trek back to the car.

Since Margaritaville is in the French Quarter, following the turn-by-turn directions proved to be more difficult since we thought we had parked somewhere along the way to the Fair Grounds. A few U-Turns and a good 30-minute back-tracking journey later, we found a church off Blue Bayou Rd and parked the 4-Runner. It wasn't a bad hike to the race track, and I was gearing up with anticipation for my first Buffett concert experience.

One of the first things we saw (albeit at the wrong stage) was an Auburn flag planted in the ground surrounded by a couple of umbrellas. "If Jimmy Buffett is on this stage," I said to myself, "I know exactly where we'll sit." About 30 minutes later, we were in front of the correct stage and found a nice dry(er) spot out of the mud to put Jeanie and Jennifer. Jaren and I went to get some water to "cure the thirst" (saw it on a t-shirt and vowed I'd put it in the blog recap somewhere). Luckily for us, we were asked to move from our location in the dry(er) concrete and were forced to tread through the mud to a new prime seating spot.

It was here we'd stay thanks to the hospitality of the Artist Formerly Known as Bernie. Bernie is quite possibly the friendliest person I've ever met at a concert, and he did not take long to get to know everyone in our group (sans the wandering Jaren). Now, it must be said that I was informed following the show that Jeanie and Jennifer (or the J-Twins as they will now be referred to for the remainder of this entry) decided that I'd be the spitting image of Bernie when I'm 40 years old. Now, if that is what God has in store for my life, I think I'd be doing pretty darn good.

I'd talk about the couple standing in front of the J-Twins, but I could not do justice compared to their stories and "color commentary"...The phrase, "She just bit him" was quickly followed by "He just spanked her!" - leading to a roaring applause of laughter and clapping from those who were within earshot of the J-Twins. I wasn't focused on those two, though, because...Jimmy Buffett had made his way onto the stage.

A 24-song set was bellowed out from Buffett and the Coral Reefer Band, and one item on my Bucket List had been crossed off. Honestly, there aren't enough words in the dictionary to describe the show. There were a ton of highlights (the fact that he swapped his flip flops for a t-shirt with a guy in the front row; he came out onto the stage in drag for "Why Don't We Get Drunk"; and of course, watching the J-Twins hold their arms high for "Fins"), but I'm all typed out as-is. Don't worry, I'm more than willing to share any and all stories to curious bystanders.

We left the concert and headed back to Houma. Now, we had acquired a large amount of mud on all our shoes thanks to the rains that soaked the New Orleans area on Friday and throughout Saturday morning, and the hunger was starting to strike. We found a nice little pizza place after stopping into a shopping mall to wash hands and relieve ourselves, and the food was incredible (not to mention the jukebox featuring hits from high school and junior high days).

Sunday morning, we hung around for a little bit before packing up the 4-Runner and returning to the road. On the way back, we stopped on the Quarter again for beignets at Cafe Dumonde and a po-boy from Johnny Po-Boys. I really didn't think I could eat again for a week afterwards. Jeanie fell asleep shortly after leaving the NOLA city limits, and Jaren remained quiet in the backseat for the most part. Much like the rest of the drive in my own truck that afternoon, it was just me and some tunes from Buffett.

A full set list from that night can be found at the following web address: http://www.buffettworld.com/set-lists/sl-2008/#9

I know that this is a bit delayed, but I've been busy coaching a potential league champion little league team and writing a book of short stories from the perspective of Uncle Bernie (kinda catchy, huh?). A longer update on things going on in my life will be coming in the next few days. Right now, I have a lot of praying to do that I can keep my tongue in a particular situation.

As always, thanks for reading and War Eagle (and War Jimmy Buffett!).

-6-

Changes on the Horizon

In 23 days, I will have been graduated from Auburn for exactly three years. Since May 13, 2005, I've lived in two apartments, at home with the parents twice, a rental house and now here on Birch Tree Lane in Saltillo. In a lot of ways, I'm the same guy who walked across the stage behind Joy Howie and in front of my family (not to mention those who I consider to be extended family). It was one of the most fulfilling days of my life, that Friday the 13th.

I remember vividly every aspect of that morning. Momma Goldberg's after the ceremony and our pictures. The fast goodbye to Robert as he packed up and traveled back to Arab before we headed to O'Charley's for a celebratory dinner. John, Andrew's brother, leaning over to Jeanie and asking her to reach in his pocket. I look back on that 24-hour milestone with a smile.

As I stated above, I'm a lot like that guy who, on May 13, 2005, was ready to take on the athletic department ladder by storm. I was going to be moving to Gainesville in just over a month and learn under a new regime at UF. After that, it'd be an entry-level full-time spot at another Southeastern Conference institution before getting back to Auburn. It was a well-planned out career chart. Nothing could deter me from getting my next goal, since every other goal to that point had been achieved.

A total of 1,072 days have passed me by, and I no longer hold that aspiration to be an Athletic Director. As a matter of fact, I don't really have any desire to re-enter the athletic world other than being a spectator with several great stories to share with anyone willing to hear them. So, what do I do now?

Time plays its toll on those who are not ready for its benefits. I'm smarter than that day in Beard-Eaves Memorial Coliseum. However, I'm a guy without a plan at this moment. Where am I heading? What am I going to do?

I'm happy, very happy, with the way my life has worked out so far. I have friends that span across this great country and a family that can be surpassed by none other. The love and support they have shown me over my 25 years is a blessing from God, and I am not the person I am today without everyone who has ever been a part of my life - positive and negative alike. I'm happy, just not as happy as I believe I can be.

At work, I have several projects that are going to be wrapping up in the coming months. I'm hoping the last major one will implement around December or January. When it finishes, I'm going to place the house on the market. When the house sells (and it must meet a mandated price figure to get out the investment I've made), I'm going to search for a new job, a new career. I feel like I've hit a ceiling at BancorpSouth and can only offer so much to this position.

What's crazy is that I've prayed about this change to make me a better person, and I asked for signs that this would be the right move. Suddenly, these projects started to pick up steam. The next sermon at church dealt with making big decisions based on faith and knowing that God will take care of us as long as we find His plan and His way in all we do. For the first time in I don't know how long, I'm going to let Him direct everything without question.

Something like this will take is a lot of discipline, and I'm not the most patient person around. I know better than to pray for patience, but we listened to a sermon on discipline today at church. Talk about your back-to-back whammies. Doing what we ought to, not doing what we want to. What a novel concept...

My next goals are very personal yet simplistic in nature. I feel in my heart that these goals cannot be attained in Tupelo. If I don't get out now...well, time will take its toll on me also. I'm praying for discipline and guidance. I've rested easier at night since making this decision, and it's a peace that I've been missing for so long.

I'll keep everyone updated as much as possible. Now, it's time to go outside, look up at the stars and have a conversation. As always, thanks for reading.

War Eagle.

-6-

The "Justin Hargett Power" Equilibrium

While 78,000-plus walked through the gates in Tuscaloosa to see Nick Saban win his ninth game as the head coach at Alabama (seven regular season + two spring games), I headed down to Auburn for a quick trip filled with stories, fun and a baseball game. Since I slept in a little too late for the early church service, now seems as good of a time as any to write this post.

As I wrote earlier this week, I was a bit under the weather Wednesday and still felt the effects well into the evening hours of Thursday. I had been wanting to go down to Auburn to see at least one of the South Carolina games, but I couldn't force myself to drive all that way for one game if I didn't feel at least 90 percent.

Friday morning, I felt better as the day went on, and I went ahead and made the call to go around lunch. I drove home to pack up so that I could leave straight from the office to the Plains. The drive included several phone conversations with people about some things I'm working through in my mind right now (more on those later...probably much later).

When I got to Auburn, it was Brick Oven for dinner with Andrew. Soon afterwards, Andy headed out to edge of forest to hang out at the camper. We swapped glory stories of little league seasons gone past (inspired by my team's scrimmage Thursday night). Things were great until Andy decided at 2:45 in the a.m. that he was hungry for some Taco Bell. An hour later, he got his "nourishment" but we had some good laughs about it.

Saturday, I hung out at the camper until it was time to go to baseball. I made a quick stop in the press box to say hello to Dan Froehlich (Auburn's baseball SID) and Andrew Kitick (South Carolina's baseball SID) while waiting on the game to start and for Andrew to show up. After catching up a little with those two, I headed down to the stands and sat with some of the players' parents for a couple of innings.

Andrew arrived around the bottom of the third, and we headed to Section 111. Normally, I hate sitting here thanks to the riffraff clientèle, however Saturday was the exception to the rule. From this perch, we found a blast from the past, circa summer 2004. Sitting a couple of rows ahead of us was "Music Appreciation Girl" from Andrew's class that summer semester. I think her name is Caroline, but "Music Appreciation Girl" is what has stuck.

After confirming with 100 percent assurance that MAG was in our presence, we both noticed around the same time her wedding ring. Andrew then rattled off three phrases which should go down in our friendship's long and storied lore: "Woah, she's married now. Wow, she's waayyyy married. She's married to the Justin Hargett power."

To explain, our first baseball game experience this spring was enhanced by the support from Justin Hargett's (AU's second baseman) mom. We heard "Super Justin" and it's stuck with us through text messages and conversations over the last couple of months. The ring on MAG's finger had at least 20 diamonds wrapping the band and surrounding one massive mega-diamond. I think I still have a minor headache from the glare it caused when the sunlight caught at the right angles. We laughed about this the rest of the game.

As far as the game is concerned, South Carolina has one of the three best lineups our pitching staff will face from the 1-9 holes in the order. This does not really set up well for true freshmen on the mound. Cory Luckie had a very good outing and left with a chance for the "W" as AU was up 5-4. I would have pulled him before seeing the lineup for a third time, but I'm not making the decisions.

After a clutch two-out dinger from ninth-year senior Gamecock Phil Disher, AU's fate was pretty much sealed. The experience level gap just is too much for a team starting five freshmen. You just have to hold out hope that the missed opportunities diminish as their careers develop more. I have faith in their ability, and they have really good chemistry. It doesn't seem like there's really any quit in them and there's no deficit they feel is too great. You have to like that.

Another positive was finally seeing Hunter Morriss go yard. Almost on cue, Andrew and I both were talking about how we hadn't seen him really do anything in person aside from a couple of seeing-eye singles here and there. He turned on an inside pitch and knocked it into the hands of the K-Corner patrons atop the right field wall.

After the game, we headed to Buffalo Connection for dinner (which was great - to the Justin Hargett power) and I got back on the road. Most of the ride was spent talking some stuff over with the big guy upstairs, but I also was able to listen to my fair share of "old man music." I made it back to the house in record time (3:53), which saddens me and excites me at the same time. You'd think that I could make it to Auburn in record time and just take my time coming back. Oh well.

As always, thanks for reading. War Eagle.

-6-

A little reflection...

So I'm sitting at home today with the stomach bug, and I can't help but think a little. OK, those of you know me me well will see right through that and find that my mind never really stops working or processing. I do my best to calculate my every move, which may seem to some folks as acting slowly. Everything with me has to possess a strategy and show to me a plan. It's hard for me to make leaps of faith, but I'm trying to get better with that.

A very good friend told me recently that you can't force things, and as hard as I try, there are just certain emotions and feelings that you cannot impress upon people. It's not that this is a new concept to me, but it's something that has inexplicably resonated with me the past few days. Remember, I try to plan all of my moves ahead of time and, to me, nothing is said or happens without reason.

If you feel like you don't have the energy to read a lot, please stop now. I give fair warning about the long-winded nature of this. People say that I don't really use my journalism degree any more, but this is an avenue where I can express an appreciation for something simple yet complex: words.

From a young age, I learned the importance of words and the power of silence. Sitting back, observing then surprising the people around me is my style and my comfort zone. That being said, most people that allow me to get close have realized that I can sometimes ramble and forget that whole "silence is golden" thing. There's really not that much middle ground, I guess.

Growing up, I used the tactic of letting my parents air out their frustrations and anger whenever I did something wrong. After the yelling and screaming, I would then state my case which usually led to reduced or no punishment whether I deserved it or not. I think I figured this out after inexcusably telling my mom to "shut up" once I realized something that all children eventually come to understand (I don't want to spoil the ending, but it involves the true identity of the guy in a red suit at Christmas). I lost my temper with them, something that rarely happened for the rest of my adolescence. Whenever I was really upset from then on, it was pretty much the silent treatment.

The phrase "the pen is mightier than the sword" has always been too cliche' for my liking. Sure, words are powerful and can affect the recipients' lives both positively or negatively depending on their tone and delivery, but it all depends on the person holding the pen and the person holding the sword. I've wrote and said things that have lifted people beyond the limits of the sky, and I've also destroyed confidences and hearts with the wrong words. It's not something I've ever been proud of, and I wish I could take those times back. Those times helped me to be better with words though, retrospectively. They've helped me to control something else that has always touched my life: passion.

Passion is one of those words that, when we are asked to define, we can't always come up with the right compilation of words to give these seven letters justice. It's just something that is inherent in all of us, something that everyone that has ever walked this earth holds in common. Whether that passion lie in sports or God or music or anything else, I've always been inspired by anyone who could unravel a speech from the heart concerning the importance of that passion in his or her life - whether or not I agree with their opinions. This is why I really enjoy the turning points in war movies where the general pulls the troops together or the coach fires his team up as they go out to face the common enemy.

I often joke with my friends now that my TV is my best friend here in Tupelo. Usually, this gets some laughs but I've also had folks act jealous for some reason. Anyway, I digress. Two things that I've watched in the past few weeks have really caught my attention and stirred emotions within me because of the words and the passion portrayed are John Adams, the HBO miniseries, and Facing the Giants. I was drawn to both of these by my love for sports and our country's history, but they both left me on the edge of my seat waiting for more. (Luckily, there are two more episodes in John Adams to satisfy that thirst.)

In Facing the Giants, a prep football coach is at the end of his proverbial rope. His car has broken down to the point of never starting, his team can't get over the hump of average 3-4 win seasons and he cannot give his wife the family that both want so desperately. Finally, he breaks down and, in a very moving scene, puts everything in God's hands. He even reduces the importance of his team winning on the scoreboard by pressing upon them the importance that they win in life with Jesus in control. "Praise Him when we win, praise Him when we lose" becomes the team's motto. Through the dramatization of film, this powerful message permeates throughout the school, the team wins game after game, a parent buys him a brand new truck...you get the drift.

In John Adams, I don't know why but it's hard not to find reasons to relate to one of the most distinguishable people in our early history. How awesome it would have been to be able to say that, as an actor, you were able to portray people like Abigail Adams, Sam Adams, Ben Franklin, George Washington and Thomas Jefferson. The speeches that these men (and women) gave to match the importance of their words which have stood the test of time...it's really powerful if you allow yourself to get caught up in it.

That's not what this blog is about though...I'm not Roger Ebert or anything. Life only gives you so many moments of reflection, and I don't want to pass up one of those right now. I want the words I choose to write and choose to say to be important. I want people to see my passion for not just sports, not just God, not just movies or Auburn or my country. I want the people in my life to see the passion I have for them, for their friendship and for the paths that our lives have crossed together.

I just hope that I find the right words to say when the opportunities arise.

As always, thanks for reading. War Eagle.

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The View from Section 109: The A-Day Game

Well, it took about three snaps for me to remember why I never got into the whole A-Day thing. While I thought this year would be different with the new offense and whatnot, I was sorely mistaken as we found a way to make things boring. Now, it must be said that "boring" in this case is not necessarily a bad thing. There were several sets of eyes hoping to get a glimpse of hints of what to expect in the future. All they saw was different personnel running the same plays and sets from the Peach Bowl.

Here are a few observations from the weekend concerning the football team, the baseball team and our tailgate setup...

1.) Kodi Burns is going to be dynamic in this style of offense whenever he's allowed to tuck and run. He may get beat up, but it's the first time we've had a true dual-threat in over a decade at this position. What's awesome is that we have another kid waiting in the wings who is more dynamic as a dual-threat in DeRon Furr.

2.) Ben Tate is our best running back. This says more about Ben than it does about the rest of the group, because I am not skiddish about the ball being in Brad Lester, Tristan Davis or Mario Fannin's hands either. I really think Tate is the best back we've had since Carnell and Ronnie. He's had more time to contribute for Auburn than Kenny Irons and possesses the vision necessary to read a hole off the sweep or power toss we like to run out of the spread.

3.) Josh Bynes may push starting time away from Blackmon. The kid is a beast and has gotten the mike linebacker calls down to an art. The second string defense really didn't miss much of a beat from the first string in backers and secondary, and Bynes was a big reason in all of this. I'm not saying Blackmon's fallen off as much as Bynes has stepped up.

4.) Ryan Williams will be the next Thorpe candidate from our secondary. Aairon Savage is ready for the primetime if he can get the bump and run coverage down just a little more. Jerraud Powers is a true shut-down corner and will make some more huge plays this year. Mike McNeil is the second coming of Junior Rosegreen. In other words, our secondary is S-I-C-K with talent.

5.) The baseball team has a very small margin for error, minuscule even. They're playing very good right now, sans the loss Tuesday night at always tough South Alabama, but a four-run lead can easily become a tie game or deficit if the freshman pitchers take on one too many batters or the normally flawless bullpen has a mental lapse, as was the case in the late innings Saturday. We could have swept Tennessee, but one thing that they're doing that they failed to do past Arizona State last season and earlier on the 2008 schedule is they're winning the winnable series. It's kind of weird that we're in first place but would be the odd man out if the SEC tournament started today.

6.) The tailgate is going to be a lot of fun at University Station. It was a little difficult to find in the dark of night Friday, but once everything was set up, it felt like a home away from home. The people around us are extremely friendly and I can't wait to develop better friendships with them. Plus, we're at the edge of forest for crying out loud. There is a gi-normous cell phone tower right in the middle of the RV park, so you'll always have service (if you are an AT&T customer). All in all, it was a great success.

7.) I've been told, ahem, that I'm too long-winded on my blog. Maybe so, but it was at the personal request of someone who I hold very dear to my heart that a thorough recap be written about THE WEEKEND. I did not want to disappoint by leaving out any minor details which could have enhanced the knowledge of those who could not be with us.

Lots of familiar faces were in town over the weekend (Brad, Amber, Karen Deaver, Andrew and Taylor). Purser had a great initial Auburn experience. He purchased an AU hat and changed his phone's background to the scoreboard from Plainsman Park. We missed Josh and Katie, but there will be plenty of time to catch up with them in the future. Congrats to Katie for making it into Florida State for law school.

Prayers go out to Robert as he begins his Paris educational experience. Also (and probably even more so importantly) to Jennifer as she continues to prod along like a trooper. We love both of you here at Roger Dodger's blog.

The countdown for Jimmy Buffett in New Orleans (May 3) starts now. First, though, a little trip back in time on the docket this weekend to a place that I like to refer to as "prom." More details on that later.

That's all for now, faithful reader(s). As always, War Eagle.

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