Tampa Trip, Vol. II

We’re back to the grind in Tuscaloosa, some time after returning from vacation in Tampa. Boy, was it a helluva time. Most of the trip has already been documented, but I thought I’d take a minute or two to talk about the experiences that didn’t involve food or running.

First off, church. Ann and I absolutely love going to church together. We go for pretty much the same reasons, and we take great joy in worshiping together. We went to St. Mary’s Episcopal Church, which is just down the street from our cousin’s home. It was the final sermon for their rector (priest in charge) before retirement, so he spent time hitting some of the highlights of our prayer book—things he thought were most important, since it would be his last time in the pulpit. We’ve always found Episcopal hospitality to be some of the finest around, and this was no exception.

The same can be said for the following Sunday, as we traveled downtown for a trip to St. Andrew’s. The building is a Spanish mission-style building, built around 1904, according to their web site. The parish itself formed in 1874. It’s also on the National Register of Historic Places. We thoroughly enjoyed the worship experience. We noted a plaque in the sanctuary after the service, and an usher, likely noting that we weren’t regulars, told us the story of a gentleman whose name was on the plaque. Apparently there was a storm many moons ago, and he, I believe a vestryman, was on a ship at the time, and apparently is still on patrol.

Tuesday was tour day, as Ann and I toured Raymond James Stadium, where the Tampa Bay Buccaneers play. Six bucks per person, but truly a bargain.

There were about 75-100 people there, basically with the intent of taking pictures, ourselves included. Locker rooms, on the field, near the famous pirate ship, skyboxes, etc. It’s quite the excellent facility.

The Tampa Yankees were also at home, playing the Palm Beach Cardinals, in minor-league baseball.

We sat six rows behind home plate for six bucks a ticket for a thirsty Thursday game. It was pretty steamy outside, and I had my polyester Cloud County baseball jersey on, so it was a little rough. The stadium is pretty good-sized, so as to handle large spring training crowds, so it kind of looked like nobody was there. Decent crowd, just spread out all over the park. The rugrats in the stands didn’t have much competition as they chased the foul balls.

Wednesday afternoon was soccer day, as the U.S. Women’s National Team played France in the World Cup semifinals. As I drove to the waterfront for my runs, I noticed a bar that would show the match, set for a noon kickoff on the east coast. . I’m a soccer watcher and follower, but I’m not hard core. I watched Abby Wambach head the ball in late against Brazil Sunday, so I was already invested, and ready for some ball. An early goal meant free beer as long as the gals were ahead. France tied the game, but our side scored again, so more beverage, followed by a victory.

The finals were Sunday against Japan, which made it interesting, logistically, since it was getaway day. Saw our first goal at the house, heard about the second one on gametracker on my phone, heard the US take the lead as I was going through security, and the rest on an airport TV. We were pretty bummed, but I saw an Asian (presumably Japanese)walking in the terminal and smiling from ear to ear.

I also hit the local running store, and was pretty jealous of how much space there was there, as compared to my store. I’d forgotten my body glide, so we had to pick some up.

Sadly, I had to leave Florida and Ann behind, but lots of great memories remain.

The Week in Tampa, vol. I

I've been back from Tampa nearly two weeks now, and reliving the week I spent with Ann in Tampa. I flew back Sunday evening, leaving the First Lady to dog sit two sweet Border Terriers (Fred and Ginger) on her own. But it sure was a week I’ll always look back on fondly. I’ll talk more about my runs on my Woodrow Miles blog, and try to break down the rest of the trip here.

I’ll start with the food. Ann is a world traveler, and loves good food. She knows where to look and how to get to some great restaurants. First off, Monday night at Mad Dogs and Englishmen in Tampa proper. It’s not a very big place, but they’ve been doing this for 20 years, and we were not disappointed. We split a yummy raspberry brie as an appetizer. I had a shepherd’s pie with blue cheese as the main course that was the best I’ve ever had. I’m into portion control, so I ate half and saved the rest for another day. But I definitely was not disappointed either time.

Tuesday night, The Columbia in Ybor City.

A bit of a historical district, as I believe Teddy Roosevelt got some dirt on his shoes from the area, during the Spanish-American War era. The restaurant is Spanish/Cuban, and has been in business since 1905. I started with a bourbon and coke, and I believe we had some fried calamari as an appetizer. I had some delicious pork here that was so tender it didn’t even need a knife to be cut. Add in black beans and rice, yuca and platanos, and it was quite a feast. The Columbia also has entertainment, in the form of a 20-minute Flamenco dancer show, which was also very entertaining.

Thursday we went to the Tampa Yankees game, and feasted on Square One burgers for pregame. The place is owned by a guy from Norman, Oklahoma. Hamburgers are all they do. I actually suggested the artichoke hummus with chips as the appetizer, which made Ann’s eyes pop out of their sockets, as she’s not used to me wanting to eat such fare voluntarily. I ate the bleu bacon burger, which had bacon and bleu cheese crumbles. Delicious.

Friday: The Refinery. I wasn’t really hungry, so I had a bowl of soup and several bottles of chocolate milk. Ann’s cousin came up from Ft. Myers and they told old family stories. Fun to be a fly on the wall, and also fun to realize I married into this family.

Saturday: Crabby Bill’s, St. Pete. I wasn’t feeling too well this day—must’ve been all the good food I’d been eating. Bowl of clam chowder and a salad and some Devil Rays baseball on the TV. And an excellent view of the Gulf of Mexico, realizing that Houston was about 1100 miles to my right.

Sunday: Circles, South Tampa. This meal followed church downtown. An excellent cup of coffee got us started. We enjoyed some fresh bread with a mixture of butter and strawberries—something I’d never tried before. Yummy. Next up was one of the best Western omelets I’ve ever eaten. I’m starting to grasp the concept of using all my senses when it comes to good food, and the combination of the company, the meal, the service and the atmosphere certainly contributed to an excellent dining experience.

Oh yeah—I also liked the honey-roasted peanuts Southwest Airlines handed out.

Top Five Cold

Whenever it gets really, really cold outside, I always refer to it being top-five cold. It’s a reference to one of the five coldest times of my life. Now that I think about it, they all involve ball games. In honor of the dog days of early summer, here they are, in no particular order.

1982 Sun Bowl, North Carolina 26, Texas 10.

El Paso is known as the Sun City. Sometimes, the Chamber of Commerce doesn’t get the memo. This was one of those times. Dad was radio/TV editor of the El Paso Herald-Post, the former afternoon daily newspaper, and he had an assignment that involved covering those who covered the game. In other words, he was in the press box, drinking hot chocolate. Meanwhile, mom, Kenny and Ursula and I were sitting on our seats on the east side of the stadium. I don’t remember much about this game, except for the famous Coca-Cola episode. We bought a Coke from one of the vendors (who probably also suffered that day), and Ursula put some antifreeze (rum, I think) in said drink. I’m 11 and won’t be introduced to the concept for several years. We’re shivering, dad’s in the press box, and I made mom buy me another drink. It’s lost to history, but I’m guessing I didn’t have too much Coke that day.

Tiger baseball

I lived in Clay Center, Kansas for 7 ½ years, covering high school sports across the area as the Assistant Sports Director for two stations in North Central Kansas. Great times, to be sure. One fine spring day (2008?) in the Sunflower State, I broadcast Clay Center Tiger baseball, as they were in Manhattan to play the Wamego Red Raiders. Wamego, east of town, is in the process of remodeling their ball field, so we played our scheduled doubleheader at Cico Park in MHK. Spring in the Midwest can be a finicky old lady, and this day was a prime example. No snow, just a cold and constant wind from the north at about 25-30. It’s not like there’s lightning or rain or snow, (read: no chance of postponement) so play ball. The folks at WHS were always very helpful (thank you, Athletic Director Mark Stephan) and as was customary, provided a chair and a folding table so I could set up shop. Thing is, the cold north wind cuts right through you after a while, and there’s no getting away from it. The kids and umpires are out there trying their best, but the innings go on and on and on. There doesn’t seem to be enough Kleenex to wipe my nose. Finally, game one comes to an end. If you can find a wall that blocks the northerly wind (i.e. near the men’s room), it’s not all that bad outside. Sadly, this is not where they’re playing baseball. I call Ann, who was my fiancée and lived in Manhattan. She saves the day by bringing me a nice warm blanket so I can broadcast/survive game two.

8-Man state football championships, November, 2005

Duane Toews (aka the Moundridge Mauler) is still the farm director at our two-station conglomerate, and in those days, he and I would do a lot of ball games together. He was an all-league DE for the Wildcats back in the days of leather helmets. We’d do eight-man finals, league basketball tournaments, etc. And have some great times. This event took us to Russell, KS (home of Senator Bob Dole) for a football doubleheader that started at 11 am. I did these games in Russell and in Newton, and apparently Ma Nature didn’t like the games being played at RHS, because I can’t remember doing games there when it was nice. But when the finals moved to Newton, the chamber of commerce ordered up some fine (if atypical) Kansas weather. I’ve gone prepared for cold weather and have had to take off coat, gloves, and hoodie, with nothing but sunglasses and a t-shirt and jeans.

No such luck this time. DT reads the weather at least 427 times a day during his weekday morning shifts, yet has no idea it’s gonna be cold for the games. I’ve got layer upon layer on, and I’m getting by, but Duane is severely underdressed for the occasion. He brought a medium-strength jacket and some gloves, but he’s got no shot against this northerly wind. I don’t recall the first game being as cold as the second one, when the sun starts to set behind the school building, but I do remember us sitting in the company car with the heat cranked up so as to thaw as much as possible before game two. The biggest problem I had during the nightcap was that it was so cold, my pens wouldn’t write anymore, making it hard to keep stats. I had to carry the broadcast, since I’d look over at ol’ Duaner and he’d just be there shivering like a freezing bobblehead. South Barber and Waverly were your winners and eight-man champions (two divisions) that day.

1984 Sun Bowl, Alabama 28, SMU 7

This was another year where the phrase ‘Sun Bowl’ was a bit of a misnomer. Highlights included the Mustang mascot hurting an ankle doing cartwheels/flips during pregame, and the SMU types being very vocal in their displeasure about coming to El Paso, thinking they deserved better. The entire Woodyard clan went to this game, which turned out to be my first Crimson Tide game. Much coldness here, too. The four of us wrapped up in blankets, one of which was spread across the laps of all four of us, with me on the far left of the formation. Now I’m cold, but gee, mom sitting next to me doesn’t look to be as bad off as me, so I start badgering her to swap with me. Eventually she relents and we switch, and I learn that it was warmer where I was. Crap. I don’t even remember if I tried to get my spot back. I *do* remember that there was no booze at this event, as there was in ’82. We left this game at halftime, it was so damn cold.

Okay, so that’s only four. But a couple of entries on the honorable mention list can make up the difference.

Whitharral/Valley six-man football coverage, 1999. Valley HS is near Turkey, Texas, and a Saturday evening game over Thanksgiving weekend. My parents were up for the weekend, joining me at base camp in Levelland, and were along for the ride. They sat and enjoyed the matchup between the Panthers and Patriots. I was in the press box, and sort of bundled up, but my feet were cold, and you know how that goes. If your feet are cold, your whole body was cold. That was me that night.

Hanover at Axtell, sub state eight-man playoff game, 2008. Yikes. They put heat machines on each sideline, and even the typically hardy (if somewhat crazy) Kansas high school football player didn’t stray far, and likely didn’t look forward to heading out to play ball and leave what little warmth there was. This game was in sharp contrast to the following Saturday’s state championship game in Newton, as mentioned above.

Okay, now go back outside and warm up a little.

Tampa Two

The First Lady and I have touched down safely in the Sunshine State (still finding no travel trouble issues) for a house and dog sitting job. Her cousin is crossing the pond for two weeks and asked us to come down to help. The dogs are two Border Terriers named Fred and Ginger. Sweet as can be. Ginger has already pegged me for a softie, as I've already had a stint of 20 straight minutes of belly scratching.

Her cousin Ellen has already treated us to a wonderful seafood supper-- the three of us and Ellen's ten-year-old son. I had delicious pecan-breaded trout with two glasses of Sauvignon Blanc. The food, the company and the conversation were all top shelf.

It has been a bit of a culture shock-- both Ann's and my legs have been bitten up by mosquitoes, requiring a trip to Whole Foods for bug ointment. Truly a remarkable store. It's on the first floor, with a Target store on the second. So we're seeing a lot of things we've not seen before, or in a long time. We were here two years ago for our first Thanksgiving as Southerners.

Who knows what we'll see or do in the days to come-- we really have no agenda. But it's gonna be a hell of a ride.

Memory Loss

I don’t remember significant portions of my life. Not because of any kind of substance abuse or anything, but because I was only physically present. I chose not to look around. My lack of music knowledge has me playing catch up nowadays. I can’t really participate whenever my friends debate whether David Lee Roth or Sammy Hagar was the better lead vocalist for Van Halen. When we talk about movies, oftentimes I get, “YOU HAVEN’T SEEN (insert movie here)?” It puts me behind the times in Animal House and Caddyshack conversations. I just didn’t get out much growing up. I guess I watched too much TV or played too much Nintendo as a kid.

So my cultural knowledge is rudimentary at best.

I also don’t remember much of what happened to me when I was in college at Texas Tech, from 1993-97. Part of it was not looking around much, though I did manage to make friends, which helped. But I also worked my tail off. I guess I was young and idealistic and trying to get somewhere, and not stopping to smell the roses. Part of the work involved the early-morning shift at the NBC-TV affiliate in Lubbock. My first year, I woke up at 3 am to make a 4-8 shift, where I was the associate producer (video editor) of Daybreak 11, which started at 6 am.

My second year, I advanced to producer of Daybreak (probably because nobody else was crazy enough to do it). This meant waking up at 1:45 am to make a 3 am shift. And it seemed someone was always getting home and slamming their car door shut in the parking lot about 30 minutes before my alarm would go off. And I was a full-time employee working a split shift-- after the morning show ended at 7, nothing happened at the TV station until the morning news meeting at 9 and the noon news, which I either produced or cut video for. My workday typically ended around 12:45 pm. So it was rough.

Both years, I’d go to bed about 6:30 pm, so my contact with the outside world was limited to recorded versions ER (before it got too depressing) and Touched By an Angel (it was a phase). I knew the Colorado Avalanche won the Stanley Cup in 1997 only when I saw the highlights on the morning news feed, when Uwe Krupp scored to beat John Vanbiesbrouck of the Florida Panthers. Had to get to bed and had to get to work. And you know what a playoff hockey geek I am.

The TV job was one of three I had at the time—I was also a weekend board operator at the talk radio station. Running commercials for ESPN Radio, Texas Rangers baseball, World Champion (at the time) Houston Rockets basketball, and the coast to coast and border to border Dallas Cowboys radio network.

And I also worked as an engineer for a high school sports network on Friday nights. Sometimes they were home games, other times we’d head to Plainview, Canyon or Amarillo.

So I worked a lot of long hours in those days. Drew and Heather, who stopped by to see us last summer, were an item during this time, and I really had no recollection of what their relationship was like, since I was gone most of the time. I had to have them tell me about those years—1995 through 1998, since I was seldom around. And if I was, I was dazed and confused. Most of the time, I was at work or at school. And half conscious due to a lack of sleep.

Of course, there are things I’d do differently if I had the chance to do them over, but I'd rather not look back, and just prefer to take a look around every now and then, and remember that it’s OK to like things that everyone else likes. Maybe they’re right—maybe it’s fun.

So I’m trying to read a little more, write a little more, and perhaps put myself out there a little more. You know—look around a little bit.

Flag Day

This blog post is about two weeks too late, but it’s too good a story to pass up.

I was an excellent student through eighth grade or so. I think it had a lot to do with getting thrashed regularly in Monopoly by my older brother. I knew how much I owed if I landed on Illinois Avenue with three houses, how many houses and/or properties I had to hock, and what I needed to roll to stay off his hotels. That and being raised by a librarian and the son of an English teacher meant I had much of what I needed for those elementary/intermediate years.

But I found high school a bit harder. As a result, my grades were decent, but I didn’t put enough into it. This meant I had few alternatives upon graduation. So in March 1989, I signed up to join Uncle Sam’s Navy, actually enlisting in August of that year.

Following basic training and “A” school (stories for future entries), I got orders for Pearl Harbor, Hawaii to the USS Benjamin Stoddert, reporting onboard in February 1990. Benjamin Stoddert was the first Secretary of the Navy of the United States. My rate (MOS) was Operations Specialist, tracking air, surface and subsurface contacts, meaning we had very little to do inport, with nothing to track.



One day, June 14, 1990, was Flag Day, an inport day, and an off day, or so I thought. The plans of the day of the week leading up to the 14th made no mention of a Federal holiday. I stayed in my rack anyhow, thinking it was a free day. For some reason, I thought if I played the part thinking, somehow, as an 18-year-old and lowest man on the totem pole, that I could make myself and others believe it.

No dice. My shipmates went up to morning quarters and returned, with me still in my pit. I think I got laughed at, and never got in trouble or anything. The thought was that this was so utterly preposterous that all I ever got was a serious dogging. Besides-- that was far from the worst stunt I pulled on the Benny Sweat. I am now Facebook friends with a lot of those guys I served with, and I’m happy to say they've made sure the legend of Flag Day continues.

Randomness

There doesn't seem to be much news of lasting significance around here these days, so we'll shoot from the hip a little bit and maybe tell a story later on.

We're nearly a month into home ownership, and out of cardboard boxes, for the most part. We've unpacked much, thrown out some, and put some into storage. That's right, we finally have more space than we have stuff to put in it. We had our trivia friends over for food and games last night, so that did lend a sense of urgency to the last few days. We still absolutely love this house, and there's more to be done, but we've traveled a good distance.

I've taken to my front yard just a little bit-- watering every other day, as well as checking to make sure the ant hotels are vacant. It'd just be nice to have a little rain here and there, as it's been pretty dry here the last three weeks. Today I went and bought some Roundup and a weed eater to help with the weed action I've been getting.

I've been back to running four days a week, basically in the same neighborhood. The paved trail is 13 minutes away now, not four. Two weeks ago my mileage was 18, 14.5 last week, and a projected 20 this week. I hope to be near 30 miles most weeks. There needs to be a marathon in my future, but there are some things on the horizon toward the end of the year, making those plans a little murky.

Okay, now story time.

I worked at the radio station in Levelland, Texas for two and a half years-- April 1998-December 2000. News, sports and sales. I was half of the full-time staff. I covered school board and junior college regents meetings, did the crime beat, did newscasts morning noon and evening, sold advertising the best I could. Long hours and there were never enough fingers to put in the holes in the dam, especially when the station manager (who hired me) took a job in Temple ten months after I started. That made me the entire full-time staff.

However, all I ever wanted to do was broadcast games. And this gig offered no shortage of opportunities. I'd done some baseball games the previous spring.

But football is where it's at, and my first game was September of 1998 at Dick Bivins Stadium in Amarillo, Texas. A Saturday afternoon tilt-- LHS against Amarillo Caprock. Several teams in town use the stadium, so if two teams (say, Tascosa and AHS) were at home, one would move their game to Thursday or Saturday. Anyhow, my folks were along, and they were drilling me on the Lobo names and jersey numbers on the two-hour drive north on I-27. I'd been to this stadium many times in the past, as engineer for another network that did games, so the turf was familiar. Assistant principal Mel Gierhart was my sidekick for road games. I remember him bringing up the town of Notrees, Texas (near Midland/Odessa, I think), though I forget the context. Likely something to do with game travel. But my mother, who always travels with a full pack, broke out her trusty map of Texas and found it. Yeah-- it's pretty remarkable what sticks in your head 13 years later.

I was still learning my craft, so my game performance is up for debate, but I do remember Levelland winning my first game, 32-13.

Following the game, we got back into the company car-- a Dodge Neon, and headed south for the Texas Tech-UTEP game, scheduled for that night in Lubbock. The first half went OK, but the game overall was not a good one for my guys, as my alma mater beat my favorite team on the planet. Tech 35, UTEP 3.

There were three seasons of Lobo football for me, and this was the first. The win over Caprock got the seaosn off to a good start.