tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34072509693085192372024-03-13T06:46:44.788-04:00Lee PenderJust in case I ever decide to blog again ...Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.comBlogger185125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-81877164701531632522018-02-14T10:42:00.002-05:002018-02-14T10:42:24.317-05:00It's for Work<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-39101495633867826572017-04-11T18:00:00.002-04:002017-04-11T18:00:37.491-04:00My Return to RCPUFor those who don't remember and the many more who never knew, RCPU stands for Redmond Channel Partner Update. For more than half a decade, I wrote the RCPU newsletter for my former employer, 1105 Media. And I loved it. I mean really loved it. It was the most fun I've had in my career.<br />
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Thanks to the grace of Scott Bekker, who still runs Redmond Channel Partner and does it exceptionally well, I got to write <a href="https://rcpmag.com/blogs/lee-pender/2017/04/windows-vista-still-haunts-microsoft.aspx" target="_blank">an entry for RCPU</a> today (yes, it's at the link) for the first time in I can't remember how long. It's a look back at Microsoft Windows Vista--a favorite punching bag in my days as RCPU editor--and why it still casts a long shadow over Microsoft.<br />
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Incidentally, I had time to write an entry because I am, at the moment, between assignments. A shift away from written content at BusinessTown, which was really an excellent employer, left me as the odd person out, so I'm actively seeking both freelance and permanent opportunities as a journalist or marketing writer. <a href="mailto:lp@leepender.com" target="_blank">Hit me up</a>! And thanks to Scott for the opportunity to jump back into RCPU one more time.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-48411013242264608452016-10-28T14:14:00.000-04:002016-10-28T14:14:25.614-04:00These Boys<br />
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It feels like time for an annual update. Isaac is 6 now, and Andrew is 3. They're the main reason I don't blog anymore, but they're great boys and totally worth it.<br />
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For those of you scoring along at home, I now work for a Website called <a href="http://businesstown.com/">BusinessTown.com</a>, which offers advice and guidance to entrepreneurs and people who run small businesses. I write and edit for the "<a href="https://businesstown.com/blog/" target="_blank">blog</a>" section of the Website, although not using my own name. It's a good gig.<br />
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Home is Chelmsford. It's a long way for work in Cambridge, but it's a great place to live.<br />
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There's more but no time to type it. See you in 2017, maybe.<br />
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Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-51909075399421508262015-09-16T14:22:00.000-04:002015-09-16T14:36:10.858-04:00So Much I Haven't Said<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm not totally sure why I let this blog drop fairly unceremoniously several years ago, but until a new friend reminded me of it today, I had totally forgotten that it was still here. It's not as though the well of blog-worthy topics has run dry. There are, perhaps, too many of them, so many that they overwhelm me until I sink back into watching another episode of Three's Company on one of those nostalgia-TV channels rather than hovering over the keyboard. Or maybe the problem is that I'm too busy chasing my two small boys. (When in doubt, blame the kids.) In any case, tons of stuff has happened since 2011 or so, and I'm not inclined to try to catch up on all of it here, just as I'm sure no one is inclined to read my ramblings about the last four years.<br />
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For anybody who might be curious, however, here are a few basics worth noting. We now live in Chelmsford, which is really more a suburb of Lowell than a suburb of Boston, but it's all pretty close together, anyway. We bought a house here, so I don't anticipate having to post anything about moving again for quite a while. (We'll see.) I might have mentioned in my last post that my mom now lives with us. There are five of us in the house: Suzanne, my mom, me and my two sons. Yes, two. Those of you who have been out of touch would be forgiven for not knowing about Andrew (pictured reaching out to the camera), who is 2, because I've barely posted here since he was born in 2013, and I think I've only mentioned him once. He's a good little boy, though, and he does all he can to keep up with Isaac (also pictured!), who will be 5 next week.<br />
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It's not fascinating reading, but if I'm going to keep this little online presence going, it's worth at least noting events like, you know, the birth of a child and purchase of a house ... trivial stuff like that. Maybe if something earth-shattering happens in some non-political, mostly meaningless realm, I'll come back and comment on it. I promise this blog will never be controversial. There's enough of that out there as it is. For now, though, I'll see you again ... sometime. Maybe. Hopefully.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-42672720775785663332015-05-01T18:03:00.002-04:002015-05-01T18:05:25.556-04:00Greater Lowell United Football Club<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hello again. Is there anybody out there? It has been so long since I last updated this blog that I'm basically starting it over, although I don't anticipate having much time to actually post here. Anyway, I haven't touched this blog since my younger son, Andrew, was born in July 2013. My older lad, Isaac, is 4 now. My mother has moved from Texas and lives with me, my wive and the boys. Time doesn't really fly, but it has been a long time since I've typed anything here. More about the family later, if there's time.<br />
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For now, though, I just want to leave a link to <a href="http://www.glufc.com/" target="_blank">Greater Lowell United Football Club</a>, a semi-pro soccer club in Lowell I've been working with for a couple of years now. I could fill many blog posts writing about GLUFC. I have, in fact, filled much of the <a href="http://www.glufc.com/" target="_blank">GLUFC Web site</a>. Our National Premier Soccer League season starts this weekend with a game in New York, and our home opener will take place May 10 at Cawley Stadium in Lowell at 8 pm. Come out if you can. Tickets are $5 each, and kids 12 and younger get in free. Sorry to restart the blog with an ad, but I love this club and everybody involved with it. It's a very important project for me. Besides, if you show up on May 10, you'll get to hear me on the stadium PA system and see me host halftime. What a deal! </div>
Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-22327169154426338652012-12-19T21:28:00.002-05:002012-12-19T21:28:25.720-05:00North AndoverJust a quick note: yes, we have moved from Waltham to North Andover. Other than that, things are nothing less than insane. Not in a bad way, though. Just in a crazy way. I hope to be back here in a more serious way one of these days...but today is not that day.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-23712437539107928862012-06-05T12:55:00.001-04:002012-06-05T12:56:37.171-04:00Touch a Truck DayThe lad and I took in Touch a Truck day at Bunker Hill Community College last Sunday. This was a tremendous (and free) event for the under-five set. There were all sorts of enormous vehicles, all open for exploration. This was apparently the work of the <a href="http://www.charlestownmothersassociation.org/index.asp" target="_blank">Charlestown Mothers Association</a>, which did a great job getting all of these huge pieces of machinery into one parking lot. Thanks also to Aunt Christine, Uncle Steve and Eben for tipping us off to this.<br />
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<br />Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-62107884540560934482012-04-27T13:28:00.000-04:002012-04-27T13:28:24.900-04:00Here's the Short Version of the StoryAbout a year ago, I started getting crippling migraines, and it was really all I could do to get work for my real job done. The headaches were a result of too much time spent in front of the computer. I stopped blogging because I physically couldn't do it for a while. Then, after a few months, with the migraines gone (and a new monitor at home), I decided it might be nice to take a full year off of blogging. My son was reaching chase-him-around age, and I was getting very heavily involved in the Stanley Cup playoffs. I had a blissful spring of watching the Bruins win the Cup and then a wonderful summer that included a long vacation in Maine. <div>
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Now, here we are, more than a year later. I've been to Texas and back with the family a couple of times. I've been to Atlanta and Las Vegas on business. I finally made it to my first Patriots game on New Year's Day 2012. The Bruins were failures this season, but at least they've won the Cup in my lifetime now. West Ham are trying to bounce back up after an awful relegation season in 2010-2011. TCU football did me proud by putting together an 11-2 "rebuilding" season last year. Aside from sports, I'm in a new role at work, primarily working in custom publishing. My son is 19 months old and sets out on a quest every day to destroy everything in the house. He usually succeeds. He's still a good boy, though. I wouldn't want anything about him to change. I couldn't ask for a better son.</div>
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And the blogging is back, too, although it's likely to be very sporadic and also somewhat less long-winded than it was before. The Boston Breakers have gone away--likely forever--and so has the Boston Breakers Report blog. I'm going to try to fire up West Ham USA again soon, though, maybe even today. And I'll try to drop in a thought or two here for those who are still interested in this site. Suffice it to say that I'm alive and well, even if I've been dormant online. Hopefully that will continue for a while... </div>Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-57901489289163841332011-03-01T11:11:00.005-05:002011-03-01T11:32:38.566-05:00All Better Now that February's Over<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nananio/5487815010/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5135/5487815010_15e93e94a3.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nananio/5487815010/"></a></span></div>Actually, this superb picture of Isaac--taken, of course, by my <a href="http://www.hevelonian.com/category/nathanael/">shutterbug brother-in-law</a>--is from the last night in February. Clearly, though, little Ike is eagerly anticipating the end of what is usually the worst month of the year. <br />
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February signals the end of NFL football (maybe for a while in this case...), the slow-grind part of the NHL season, and the dreary and rainy section of the European football calendar. It also brings the <a href="http://www.leepender.com/2010/03/le-grand-chelem-english-style.html">6 Nations rugby tournament</a>, which is a good thing--or was, until France lost to England last weekend.<br />
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Mostly, though, February is about being so far into winter that it's hard to remember what other seasons are like and so far away from spring that it's hard to imagine life without mounds of snow everywhere. This year, February for me also meant being sick with some sort of bug that gripped me for about a month. That's the main reason why the February post count here was zero. <br />
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Isaac got the bug, too, but he's getting over it now, and I'm also feeling much better. March is no beauty of a month in New England, but it's a light at the end of the tunnel of winter. After a season that reminded me just how awful winter in New England can be, I'll take any sign of the promise of spring, even if it's only a date on the calendar. <br />
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Things are looking up all around. <a href="http://www.westhamusa.com/2011/02/feeling-stronger-every-day.html">West Ham just scored a big victory</a>; the Bruins are having a fantastic road trip (and I'm going to see them Thursday night), and last I checked TCU is still 2011 Rose Bowl champion. (I'm <a href="http://www.leepender.com/2011/01/i-still-giddy.html">still giddy</a> about that...) And now that February's over, there's nothing but good times ahead...mostly. I hope.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-52911694292354023452011-01-31T00:31:00.000-05:002011-01-31T00:31:25.767-05:00Rose Bowl Hangover<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TUZDHz2eJkI/AAAAAAAAAcM/gC1lDmmAlVQ/s1600/IMG_2829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TUZDHz2eJkI/AAAAAAAAAcM/gC1lDmmAlVQ/s320/IMG_2829.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>I have never been speechless before. The one thing I've always had at the ready is words, but I've been trying to write about the Rose Bowl for almost a month now and I can't do it. Words come and go through my head like Bart Johnson dashing through the Wisconsin defense for TCU's first touchdown of the game, but nothing stays long enough for me to get it into pixels.<br />
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It was the perfect day, Jan. 1, 2011. I watched the Rose Parade live--something I've always wanted to do--with my family and then stood as the TCU football team fulfilled one of my lifetime fantasies. (And, yes, I do mean lifetime. This was a decades-long fantasy, something I'd played out in the back yard as a kid and dreamed about driving to work a decade ago.) TCU winning the Rose Bowl wasn't a dream. Dreams can come true, although they rarely do. It was a fantasy. It was impossible. It literally could not happen. And then it did.<br />
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Why it happened isn't important. What's important is that, as the clock ticked down on the 97th Rose Bowl, I experienced a euphoria the likes of which I had never felt before. Oh, I've had better and more significant moments in my life. But this feeling was unique. And Jan. 2, 2011 really was the perfect day. I loved my wedding day, loved the day my wife defended her PhD dissertation, loved the day my son was born (although I was totally exhausted and sleeping in the hospital, so I don't know how much I actually enjoyed that particular day). <br />
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Sunup to sundown, though, I've never had a better day than New Year's Day 2011. I was with family and friends. I was in Southern California. I went to the Rose Parade. I watched TCU win the Rose Bowl. We went out afterward, my family, my friends and I, and celebrated with colossal margaritas (actual name--actual cost: $18) and Mexican food. (See the completely unedited photo above--I'm kind of in mid-Frog hand sign there.) It was magical, as in movie-script, Disney-style, everybody-tears-up-at-the-end magical. (Speaking of tears, there's a whole 'nother post in me somewhere about the end of the Rose Bowl, the happiest scene I've ever seen in my life. Red Sox fans, this was our 2004. Let's just put it that way.)<br />
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The problem, of course, is that every day since the perfect day has seemed just a little, well, imperfect. I'm not complaining. I love my family; I like my job, and I'm blessed to be where I am in life. All I'm saying is that I didn't want the Rose Bowl to end. (Well, actually, I did--but only so we could finally win it.) I didn't want to leave stadium after the game, and I was hardly the only one who hung around. I didn't want Jan. 1, 2011 to end. I still don't. But it's over.<br />
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We have mounds of snow here in suburban Boston five feet high. We have more snow on the way. That doesn't help. Wintertime blues are hitting me hard right now. But I have BC hockey tickets, and Bruins tickets, and tickets to a Celtics game...and friends, and family and all sorts of other positive distractions all around me. That's all good, wonderful.<br />
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What I don't have is the intense buildup to the experience of a lifetime, or the continuous high of Jan. 1, 2011. And that's what I want back. I've got four t-shirts, a commemorative book, the game in iTunes (and coming on DVD), two baseball caps, my game ticket in a plastic Rose Bowl lanyard, a felt pennant, lots of pictures and video I took myself, and very fresh memories.<br />
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But I can't get that feeling back, that euphoria. I've never been addicted to anything (nor have I ever been a drug user at all, really), but this must be what it feels like to come down off of some really powerful drug. At least I remember where I was and what I was doing when I got "high." But the hangover, the withdrawal, is still nasty. It's hitting me hard. Of course, it was all totally worth it, though. Totally worth it. Fantasies don't come true every day. I don't suppose that I'm speechless anymore, but that's all I can think of to say--and it doesn't even begin to express everything I'm thinking.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-81179055185084506692011-01-17T22:46:00.002-05:002011-01-17T22:49:03.444-05:00Pond Hockey<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5366070614/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5243/5366070614_008c865b28.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5366070614/"></a></span></div>I couldn't keep up with the pace of the game--actually, it was hard for me to move around at all--but I did get to skate around a bit with a hockey stick on this frozen pond in New Hampshire today. It was a huge amount of fun and a real New England winter experience. I can't wait to do it again. Pond skating is way better than rink skating--almost like swimming in a pond compared to swimming in a pool. Nature wins in both cases.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-66667946579243073322011-01-06T01:37:00.002-05:002011-01-06T13:29:38.699-05:00I'm Still Giddy<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5318565845/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5243/5318565845_355dd8b5b6.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5318565845/"></a></span></div>Incredible doesn't even begin to describe the experience. More to come after I finish soaking up the sunshine in California.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-35742885854302662072010-12-29T19:59:00.001-05:002010-12-29T23:44:10.429-05:00We Leave Tomorrow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://blogs.orlandosentinel.com/.a/6a00d83451c3cb69e2011570096c20970c-320wi" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://blogs.orlandosentinel.com/.a/6a00d83451c3cb69e2011570096c20970c-320wi" width="287" /></a></div>Excited? Oh, no. I'm way, way beyond excited. In a few days, I'll take in the Rose Parade and the Rose Bowl. I feel like one of those girls on the old newsreels who screamed at the Beatles as they arrived in America. It's just pure, unadulterated excitement. It's bliss. Win or lose, I'm going to love this.<br />
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TCU is going to the Rose Bowl. I'm off to sprinkle rock salt where hell froze over. <br />
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GO FROGS!Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-23325015795069253822010-12-12T02:22:00.000-05:002010-12-12T02:22:43.571-05:00Pony ExcessFor the most part, I liked <a href="http://30for30.espn.com/film/pony-excess.html">Pony Excess</a>, the ESPN 30 for 30 film about the SMU football program in the early '80s. There's just one gripe I'd like to get out of the way right off the bat.<br />
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A couple of times, when one of the figures in the documentary (it might have been Dallas radio host Norm Hitzges) mentioned that TCU also got hit with probation in the '80s, the video cut to clips of former TCU coach Jim Wacker. That upset me, and here's why.<br />
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It's true that the NCAA handed TCU an extremely harsh penalty in 1985 while Wacker was coach. But it wasn't the late Coach Wacker who did the cheating. In fact, Wacker, an honest and upstanding man, turned TCU in voluntarily--something that had never happened before--as soon as he found out about payments from boosters. He had not been part of the cheating, although his predecessor, who was a huge loser, very well might have been. Wacker also dismissed 11 players from the team in 1985, including star running back Kenneth Davis, before the NCAA ever made it to Fort Worth.<br />
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Wacker hoped that his honesty and transparency would lead to leniency from the NCAA, but it didn't. TCU got the "walking" (or "living") death penalty two years before the NCAA shut SMU down. The sanctions effectively paralyzed our program for a decade. I'm sure it was an innocent piece of b-roll, but I found it borderline offensive that Wacker's image was associated with TCU cheating. I'm probably the only person who noticed that, though.<br />
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One of the very prescient points the documentary--which was directed by an SMU grad whose dad is a professor at SMU--made was that everybody in the old Southwest Conference was cheating in the 1980s. (I was surprised to hear a few ex-SMU players say that Rice had approached them with "incentives"--I was always under the impression that Rice was the only clean program in the SWC during that era. Apparently everybody was trying to buy talent, even little Rice.)<br />
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In a documentary about SMU, it might not have been appropriate to take this tangent, but it upset me a little bit that nobody mentioned the fact that SMU got hit with the death penalty while Texas A&M, eligible for the death penalty for multiple violations stretching over a decade, got a series of slaps on the wrist and mainly continued to run a successful program. A nice naming and shaming of A&M would have been appropriate, but that's not what the film was about.<br />
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For a documentary made by an SMU alumnus and confessed SMU football fan, the film did plenty of naming and shaming of former SMU coaches, players and administrators. Craig James, who works for ESPN, almost assuredly took payments but acts like an innocent in the film--which makes him come off as either a liar or a total rube for not getting in on the cash. His backfield partner, Eric Dickerson, revealed a lot about what other schools (notably A&M) gave him but stopped short of talking about SMU's largess. He didn't say that SMU didn't give him anything (who would even begin to believe that?); he just said that he didn't want to talk about it. Fair enough, I guess.<br />
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Former Texas governor Bill Clements comes off looking like the two-faced idiot he was, but the coaches and administrators who were at SMU in the late '70s and early '80s--including former SMU coach Ron Meyer, who did an interview for the film--actually manage to come off looking worse. The boosters, the real money behind the illegal payments to players that were so rampant for years, are who they are--a bunch of rich, old Texans who wanted their team to win. They don't try to be anything else in the movie, and several of them did sit for interviews.<br />
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It's Meyer and SMU's braintrust of the era--most of whom did not sit for interviews--who really look sleazy. Meyer, who never had a lot of scruples, anyway, doesn't seem too ashamed about anything. The other SMU admin honchos, mainly shown in extremely embarrassing and revealing TV interviews from the '80s, have all the sideways glances and slack-jawed looks of the very most busted victims of 60 Minutes. And, as the movie points out, they were just so stupid. One official in the athletic department sent money to a recruit in an envelope embossed with the SMU seal and his own handwriting on the letter inside. Really?<br />
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One of the reasons I watched this movie was because I wanted to relive some of the good days of the SWC, back before all the cheating came to light and the conference imploded. I remember the whole SMU saga very well. As a small kid--prior to 1983, when Wacker arrived at TCU--I was an SMU fan. Who wouldn't have been? The Ponies were awesome to watch; they were the underdogs who were finally having their day against the giants of the SWC, and they were located right in Dallas, just 30 miles or so from my hometown. They even had cool nicknames--Dickerson and James (sometimes known as Dickerjames) were the Pony Express, and the whole SMU fervor was called Mustang Mania. Mustang Mania? That's great!<br />
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What I realized as the movie went on was just how depressing college football got in the 1980s in Texas. I didn't lose my football innocence with SMU. I lost it before that, as a newby TCU fan, when the Frogs got smacked with probation when I was 11 years old. I was bitter for years--still am, really--about how the NCAA treated TCU compared to what it did (or didn't do) to UT and especially A&M. I still watched college football religiously, but TCU's plight soured me on the sport in a way I'm not completely sure I've totally recovered from.<br />
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From there, SMU went down, A&M's dirty program rose and I entered my junior high years, which would have been miserable enough but were made all that much worse by the fact that my hometown was saturated with arrogant, obnoxious A&M fans. As I watched the film tonight, I remembered how miserable the years from 1986-1990 or so were for me (which is not a comment on my family, just on my stage of life) and how college football, my passion, actually made them worse. It's a wonder, honestly, that I'm a fan to this day. Many TCU alumni didn't bother to stay on the mostly empty bandwagon. Many SMU alumni didn't, either--and who can blame them? In 1987 and '88, they had no football team. It gets no worse than that.<br />
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SMU did deserve the death penalty. It did. SMU was arrogant and blatant in its repeated cheating, and its administrators knew to the highest level (and beyond) what was going on and still lied repeatedly about what they were doing. All of SMU's success from 1980-1984 came from cheating. The legacy of those teams, so successful and so much fun to watch, remains tarnished forever. SMU is still the most penalized program ever, although the one that comes behind it is Texas A&M.<br />
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And that's what's not fair and why I've had a soft spot for SMU since 1989. (I'm glad to see the program getting back on its feet now--really.) Lots of programs have deserved the death penalty--A&M, Alabama, Miami for heaven's sake--but only little SMU, a private school with a small fan base, got it. I remember watching SMU win the Miracle on Mockingbird Lane, a comeback win over Connecticut in just the program's second game back after the death penalty. A little quarterback named Mike Romo led the Ponies to a stunning fourth-quarter comeback. Around him was a rag-tag bunch of guys, not recruited by anybody, undersized, slow and unable to really compete with anybody...except UConn. I was glad SMU won that game, and I still think of it as a pleasant sports memory. I'm no SMU fan, though. The Mustangs are still TCU's rivals, and I relish the chance to beat them year after year. <br />
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Of course, SMU's downfall was a big domino in the ultimate demise of the SWC, the very definition of college football for me in my childhood. I've never gotten over the breakup of the SWC. Sure, TCU has a much, much better program now than we did in the last couple of decades of the SWC, but there was nothing better than the rivalries that went with that historic old conference. Of course, there was nothing worse than losing those games, which we usually did. Still, as we've improved over the years and bounced around the country from conference to conference, I've wished that we could have had the success we're having now back in the '80s, when it would have meant so much to me as a kid obsessed with college football and filled with rage at programs like Texas and A&M.<br />
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But all's well that ends well, I suppose. Maybe that'll be the case for SMU fans someday (and maybe it is already, with a second straight bowl berth)--Lord knows they've suffered, and those who have remained supporters of the program deserve some success. For TCU fans, with a No. 3 ranking and a first-ever trip to the Rose Bowl on the way, this is probably the best things have ever been. Oh, sure, we were arguably better in the '30s and maybe even in the '50s, but that's quite literally ancient history in college football terms. From wondering 12 years ago whether I'd ever see TCU win a bowl game to planning a trip to Pasadena last week (I'll see you there...), this ride has been incredible. OK, so it didn't happen against Arkansas and Texas and A&M, but it is happening. And for that, I'm thankful. Go Frogs.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-1706776604124299792010-12-07T01:57:00.002-05:002010-12-07T02:02:36.070-05:00The Party's Over<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://cdn.bleacherreport.net/images_root/slides/photos/000/547/651/Joseph_Don_Meredith_original_display_image.jpg?1291666239" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="http://cdn.bleacherreport.net/images_root/slides/photos/000/547/651/Joseph_Don_Meredith_original_display_image.jpg?1291666239" width="320" /></a></div><br />
There will never be another <a href="http://sports.espn.go.com/dallas/nfl/columns/story?columnist=reeves_jim&id=5891895">Dandy Don Meredith</a>. That much we know. Never the greatest quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys, he was nevertheless a very good one and an extremely tough one.<br />
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Long-time Cowboy fans like my dad probably remember the mid-'60s Cotton Bowl years as the best time to watch the team. Sure, Tom Landry's early teams couldn't get past the Packers. They lost heart-breakers in the playoffs. Meredith screwed up at the ends of big ballgames. Fans booed; sportswriters bristled. Roger Staubach would come along within a few years and make everything OK. <br />
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But real fans always have an affinity for those early teams that struggled, for the predecessors to the greats. Native New Englanders still talk with some nostalgia about Steve Grogan and the '70s Pats, about how Sugar Bear Hamilton was innocent and how the best New England team to come along prior to 2001 got robbed. Pat Patriot and the old red uniforms are still favorites around here.<br />
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As a TCU football fan, I'll forever be a Wacker Backer. I remember with fondness our rare victories in the '80s and early '90s and even some of our close losses. Stephen Shipley's last-second touchdown catch to beat Houston in 1991, in Coach Jim Wacker's last home game, remains one of my favorite sports moments. Names like Falanda Newton, Tony Jeffery and Matt Vogler are still special to me.<br />
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The championships help, of course. It's easy to remember Dandy Don now that Staubach and Troy Aikman have come and gone. Tom Brady makes the memories of Grogan seem a bit sweeter. Andy Dalton adds to Matt Vogler's nostalgic legacy. Do Cleveland fans look back with misty eyes on, say, Brian Sipe? Probably not. Success makes almost everything that preceded it seem sweeter. <br />
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Back to Dandy Don. He's one of those athletes who just predated my time, having retired a few years before I was born. And yet I feel as though I knew him, and not just because I did know him from his Monday Night Football years. He was a Dallas guy, a real one, an SMU All-American and Cowboy quarterback. He was quite literally the first Dallas Cowboy. In terms of his near misses in Dallas and lack of championship success, he was sort of my dad's Danny White, except that nobody came before Meredith in Dallas and that Dandy Don was a heck of a lot more fun than Dull Danny.<br />
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When I was a kid, Monday Night Football was still a huge event. It was still a cultural touchstone. Monday night games meant a lot--they were enormous for the cities and franchises involved, and they produced memories as lasting as many, if not most, of those that came from playoff games and Super Bowls. Howard Cosell--a television great in his own right, but one famously different from Meredith--Frank Gifford and Dandy Don made NFL football. They really did make it. No longer was the NFL a staid Sunday-afternoon fall pastime. It was cool. It was edgy. It was fun.<br />
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All of that's gone, of course. The 24-hour news cycle and the Web have swallowed the old notion of an "event," particularly one that happened every week from September through December. TV sports announcers try way too hard. Some try to be clever; others try to be controversial or bombastic, and still others try to be smarter than everybody else. Almost all of them fail. And with the NFL on five nights a week now, there are too many games and not enough good commentators.<br />
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The era of Monday Night Football ended almost 30 years ago. Don Meredith rode off into the sunset not long afterward. But with his passing, we should celebrate what he meant to Dallas sports and to American culture. No matter how badly he was hurt, no matter how much fans resented him, no matter how much flack he took from the press, he kept his cool. He didn't always win, but he never let his detractors get his goat. There's something very admirable about that. And very rare these days. <br />
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Beyond that, as an all-around fun guy, as a '70s icon, it was hard to beat Dandy Don. His decade on Monday Night Football was a high point for American entertainment and perhaps the absolute peak of the NFL as theater. But it's all over now. Meredith's days in the spotlight are long gone, and so is he. I'll miss him, not as a former fan but as someone who appreciates what he represented to a generation of football fans and to a young kid from Texas who used to beg his dad to let him stay up and watch the games on Monday nights.<br />
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The party has been over for a while, but now it's time to turn out the lights on the life of the great Don Meredith. Unfortunately, tomorrow will not start the same old thing again.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-14373030241086131132010-11-29T13:08:00.003-05:002010-11-29T13:11:13.397-05:00Baby TCU Prince<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5217995405/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5121/5217995405_65cb3e4488.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5217995405/"></a></span></div>Thrilled by TCU's 12-0 season, Isaac eagerly awaits news of our bowl destination. We'll know on Sunday evening...Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-76011256221478581322010-11-16T00:08:00.002-05:002010-11-16T00:10:32.559-05:00The Bruins Are Back in My Life<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5180938644/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4129/5180938644_f11f5d1907.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5180938644/"></a></span></div>They never left, really, but after they blew a three-game lead to Philadelphia in the playoffs last year, I swore off the Boston Professional Hockey Franchise, as I called it all summer.<br />
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But I can't quit the Bruins. I never could. Maybe it's the sting of unmet expectations or the faint stench of failure that has hovered over this team since 1972, but something about the Bruins just keeps pulling me back in. (It's certainly not hope, not after last season.) I need them. Jack Edwards, the exuberant voice of the Bruins on NESN, is like an old friend who shows up and drinks beers on my couch every winter. I miss him when he's not around. <br />
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Now, I'm training Isaac to be a fan. The first things I bought him, even before he was born, were a Bruins onesie and the Bruins throw rug you see in the picture. Hey, if I'm going to have to wait another 40 years for a Stanley Cup, I at least want somebody else to wait with me. And if the Bruins do manage to bring the Cup home, it'll be for the first time in Isaac's life--and for the first time in his dad's, as well. <br />
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The Bruins beat New Jersey 3-0 tonight. It's just one win in a long regular season, but Isaac looked pretty happy about it.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-87610529358491939272010-10-30T01:35:00.003-04:002010-10-30T20:08:42.483-04:00Banner Night at BC<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5127117223/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1098/5127117223_036bf2679d.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5127117223/"></a></span></div>For the first time, I got to see live and in person a championship banner rise to the rafters. Friday night, BC celebrated its 2009-2010 NCAA hockey championship with a banner-raising ceremony that involved members of the 2010, 2008, 2001 and 1949 (yes, 1949) championship-winning teams. <br />
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Also in attendance was the scrappy team from Merrimack, which nearly ruined the party. Merrimack was physical, borderline dirty, and early in the game got into the heads of BC's players, who looked uncharacteristically slow and sluggish throughout the game. Merrimack's goaltender was nothing short of heroic, stopping 39 pucks and fending off penalty kill after penalty kill.<br />
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It was almost sad, then, when the goalie's error led to BC's winning goal. The Eagles sealed Merrimack's fate with a power-play goal by Pat Mullane about five minutes into the third period and skated away with a hard-fought, come-from-behind <a href="http://www.hockeyeastonline.com/men/boxes11.php?mbc_mer1.o29">3-2 victory</a>. The Eagles were 2 for 11 (eleven!) on the power play, got outplayed all night and still managed to come away with a victory. Great teams are the ones that win even when they don't play well, and BC was one of those teams tonight. <br />
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I probably won't be back to a BC game until January, but I do plan to get to Conte Forum fairly often this winter. BC hockey is still the best sports deal in town. As always, my unfiltered, unedited photo set from Friday night's game is <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/sets/72157625145390901/">online</a>. Go Eagles!Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-60183549832667165522010-10-28T01:56:00.000-04:002010-10-28T01:56:24.713-04:00Isaac Meets the New England Patriots (and Peter King)Well, this was exciting. I read Tuesday morning in the Herald that a few Patriots, including Tom Brady and Vince Wilfork, would be in Waltham on Tuesday afternoon to help build a playground at the Boys and Girls Club. I live about a 10-minute walk from the club, so I figured I'd take the lad down to see what we could see.<br />
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My lovely wife and I trooped down with Isaac to Exchange Street around 2pm to find a few people waiting outside the Boys and Girls Club building. What we quickly came to find out was that this was not an event for the general public--it was intended for supporters, volunteers and members of the Boys and Girls Club. We don't currently fit into any of those categories. That's actually pretty important to this story.<br />
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The playground is outdoors but not visible from the street, so we decided to wait for the players outside the entrance to the building. That made us celebrity stalkers, something we had never been before. A few folks waited with us: a radio DJ from a station in Providence with her two kids, a retired school teacher with two kids in a huge stroller, a mom whose kid didn't appear to be there and a young man holding an autographed football.<br />
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Brady had been the last to arrive, and we figured that he would be one of the first to leave. As the players trickled out, though, he wasn't among them. They were friendly as they left the building, but they were clearly headed home. Most of them smiled and waved but didn't really stop as they headed to their cars--remember, this was not an appearance for the general public that they were making.<br />
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Nevertheless, Ike and I made our way among them. A mother had arrived with a two-week-old (even smaller than Isaac!) baby, and she approached Jerod Mayo for an autograph, which he signed for her.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkAhDXpT8I/AAAAAAAAAac/83rSek4tWQI/s1600/IMG_2131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkAhDXpT8I/AAAAAAAAAac/83rSek4tWQI/s400/IMG_2131.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>The lady with him (I don't know who she was) was very friendly and started asking whether Isaac and the other little baby were twins. I said no, and she cooed over how cute both of them were. Players were headed to their cars by now, so Isaac and I started scouting out interesting faces while chatting politely with Jerod Mayo's friend. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkBhnxLF7I/AAAAAAAAAag/WFVbNO1qn9s/s1600/IMG_2132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkBhnxLF7I/AAAAAAAAAag/WFVbNO1qn9s/s400/IMG_2132.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>About that time, I noticed that the lady with the two kids in the stroller was headed to the parking lot across the street. She had managed to corner Vince Wilfork, the huge nose tackle, and he was signing an autograph for the kids. I decided to follow her. I approached Vince Wilfork as he was getting ready to get into his car. I asked him whether he would take a picture with and sign an autograph for my baby.<br />
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I was extremely impressed with Vince Wilfork. He was genuinely friendly and without hesitation took Isaac in his massive arms while my wife photographed us. (Only one month old, and my baby has already been held by a Super Bowl champion and a Pro Bowler. That's pretty cool. If I had a photo of myself being held by, say, Bob Lilly at the age of one month, I'd have it framed and hanging on my wall to this day.)<br />
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Vince Wilfork signed an autograph for my boy and could not possibly have been more cordial, especially given the fact that I had pretty much chased him down at his car. He's not especially tall for a football player, but his width is astonishing--and his forearms speak for themselves. Count me as a huge Vince Wilfork fan. I'll always be appreciative of the kindness he showed Isaac and me. Even though Ike obviously won't remember this experience, I hope that he'll treasure these photos for a lifetime. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkDcbKRP4I/AAAAAAAAAak/98g2xjDpr20/s1600/IMG_2136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkDcbKRP4I/AAAAAAAAAak/98g2xjDpr20/s400/IMG_2136.JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkDlhbpzmI/AAAAAAAAAao/wAlDj6iPPJc/s1600/IMG_2134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkDlhbpzmI/AAAAAAAAAao/wAlDj6iPPJc/s400/IMG_2134.JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkDvTmnPnI/AAAAAAAAAas/GoYsKPNAKnI/s1600/IMG_2135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkDvTmnPnI/AAAAAAAAAas/GoYsKPNAKnI/s400/IMG_2135.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>After Vince Wilfork left, the Brady watch was on. We were standing near the car he had gotten out of when he arrived, but a driver hopped into that car and pulled up right next to another exit from the building. Brady--after <a href="http://www.boston.com/sports/football/patriots/gallery/10_26_10_patriots_build_playground/">having participated quite animatedly</a> with the kids in the Boys and Girls Club--was clearly not in the mood to be mobbed (again), and I can't say that I blame him.<br />
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The DJ from Providence and the lady with the kids in the stroller made something of a beeline for Brady, and he politely signed an autograph for the stroller lady, who rather nudged her way in front of the disgruntled DJ (who had, at least, introduced her kids to some of the other players as they entered the building earlier that day). With that, Brady was done, and he hopped in the passenger seat of his car as his driver slowly pulled away.<br />
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Again, and this is very important, Brady wasn't being a jerk. He had been there to entertain the kids at the club, which he very much did. I don't blame him for wanting to make a quiet exit; his presence on the street in Waltham had suddenly changed a small grouping of people into something of a bustling crowd. The waiting horde cheered for Brady has his car pulled away, which I thought was nice somehow. I did manage to snap a quick picture of him signing the autograph for the stroller lady.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkH3NkHyoI/AAAAAAAAAaw/fwLEYAITZRY/s1600/IMG_2137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkH3NkHyoI/AAAAAAAAAaw/fwLEYAITZRY/s400/IMG_2137.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>After Brady departed, the gathering on the sidewalk thinned considerably. Not long after Brady left, a man wearing a Boys and Girls Clubs volunteer shirt and walking a dog approached me. He asked how long Brady had stayed and I answered not long--but I did tell him that Vince Wilfork held my baby. He made a comment about how much larger Vince Wilfork was than a month-old baby, and we chuckled. He then talked about how cute Isaac was and moved on. Nice man, I thought...and he looked for all the world like Peter King.<br />
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In case you don't know, <a href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/specials/peter-king/">Peter King</a> is the preeminent pro football writer in America today. He does live in the Boston area, but I hadn't heard that he would be at this event. Besides, this guy looked much younger and thinner than the Peter King I watch on TV. (Much younger and thinner--he's actually in very good shape and looks 10 years younger in person.) As you might imagine, I came to find out later on that the gentleman who spoke with me was indeed Peter King. Unfortunately, I didn't get a photo with him, but I did enjoy our brief chat. Seriously, if you ever want to meet celebrities outside and event, bring a baby. It works exceptionally well.<br />
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There weren't more than two or three people still waiting outside the building when a man exited to mild fanfare. I had no idea who he was, but I thought that he looked at bit like Mark Walhberg. There was a reason for that--it was Donnie Wahlberg, but I didn't know that until the guy with the football told me. I snapped a picture of him. A lady who was with him made goo-goo eyes over Isaac--seriously, bring a baby. Just find one and bring one.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkKnPEOvrI/AAAAAAAAAa0/NeJyKbhDAIU/s1600/IMG_2138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkKnPEOvrI/AAAAAAAAAa0/NeJyKbhDAIU/s400/IMG_2138.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>By that time, nobody was really outside the building except for a few volunteers who were still hanging around. I spoke for about 15 minutes to a volunteer named Paul, who was exceptionally friendly and very loyal to the cause of the Boys and Girls Clubs. He told me some funny stories about what had gone on inside during the playground construction--particularly about how Vince Wilfork had given Brady a hard time for being the last to arrive and one of the first to leave.<br />
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In all seriousness, though, the <a href="http://www.walthambgc.org/">Boys and Girls Clubs</a> is a great cause. I saw kids going in and out while I was there, interacting with each other and the staff. They all seemed very comfortable and happy. Paul told me about how he'd grown up going to the Clubs and wanted to give something back. It would be a great cause for donation if you're so inclined. I'll probably give a little something; Paul said that if everyone in Waltham gave just $1, that would add up to $60,000 for the Clubs and would be a nice little chunk of change for improvements to the facilities. That seems more than reasonable.<br />
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Just as my family and I were about to amble home, Paul let me know that there was one other famous person left in the building--Patriots owner Bob Kraft. Now, I have always liked Bob Kraft. Before he came into money, Kraft was an average Pats fan, a season-ticket holder at the old Foxborough Stadium who sat on the cold metal benches in the cheap seats with the other regular guys.<br />
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As Pats (and New England Revolution) owner, Kraft saved the NFL franchise from being moved to St. Louis by its previous owner and then turned down a huge public-financing offer to move to Hartford, instead spending his own money and building a whole new stadium in Foxboro.<br />
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Unlike Jerry Jones, the Arkansas scoundrel who owns the Cowboys, Kraft didn't use eminent domain to kick people out of their homes in order to build his private playground--nor did he use public money on the stadium the way Jones did down in Arlington. It's icing on the cake, really, that Kraft turned one of the worst franchises in NFL history into a winner and has thus far brought home five AFC championships and three Super Bowl titles to New England. <br />
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Accompanied by no entourage at all, only a driver, Kraft exited the building and waved. I approached him about taking a picture with Isaac, which he was more than happy to do. He stood for several photos, actually, and in his best politician moment, he leaned over at one point and kissed my baby on the head. He was an exceptionally nice man and even put his arm around me at one point while we were taking photos. Needless to say, I was very impressed with Bob Kraft. I'm a fan.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkPIZgC31I/AAAAAAAAAa4/6LAw0kaC5yI/s1600/IMG_2142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkPIZgC31I/AAAAAAAAAa4/6LAw0kaC5yI/s400/IMG_2142.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkPQJG9N3I/AAAAAAAAAa8/UKj4s3P8P6w/s1600/IMG_2139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkPQJG9N3I/AAAAAAAAAa8/UKj4s3P8P6w/s400/IMG_2139.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkPXsUD1lI/AAAAAAAAAbA/hCWmZ5RX27o/s1600/IMG_2140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkPXsUD1lI/AAAAAAAAAbA/hCWmZ5RX27o/s400/IMG_2140.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkPfayScWI/AAAAAAAAAbE/4UPM8WWE0BY/s1600/IMG_2141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TMkPfayScWI/AAAAAAAAAbE/4UPM8WWE0BY/s400/IMG_2141.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>That, then, was how Isaac met Vince Wilfork and Bob Kraft and got to spend an hour or so stalking the Patriots. All three of us had a wonderful time and came away very impressed with the Boys and Girls Clubs (maybe Ike will play there when he's a little older) and with the Pats organization. Isaac's first brushes with greatness were a huge success.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-19076448280336792842010-10-23T03:44:00.000-04:002010-10-23T03:44:56.482-04:00Yanks Yammer for Mercy from RangersI am not a Texas Rangers fan. I grew up outside of Dallas and went to a fair number of Ranger games as a kid, but I never developed an emotional connection to the team. If anything, I resented the Rangers for being so lousy. More on that in a bit.<br />
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When I was in the third grade, circa 1983 (actually, it was 1983), my teacher handed out in class one day some sort of little newspaper. In it, there were tips about how to write headlines for news stories. (Why we had this, I have no idea, but we did.) The hypothetical story this little newspaper offered headlines for involved the Texas Rangers beating the New York Yankees 10-0. (It was, I assure you, purely hypothetical.) <br />
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The main thrust of these headline tips was that alliteration was a cracking idea for headline writers. The first title the little paper offered for its fake story was "Rangers Rip Yankees 10-0." Not bad. But the second one is the one I've never forgotten for whatever bizarre reason. It said "Yanks Yammer for Mercy from Rangers." And that brings us right around to current events.<br />
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The apocalypse is surely upon us. Winged donkeys are flying. The sky is raining fire. I'm about to sprinkle rock salt where hell froze over. The Texas Rangers are going to the World Series. And they're going because they beat, in six games, the mighty New York Yankees, until Friday night the defending world champions. Presumably, by the ninth inning, with the Rangers in command of Game Six, the Yanks were indeed yammering for mercy from the Rangers.<br />
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When I was a kid, the Rangers tried to play up some sort of rivalry with the Yankees, which, of course, never existed. But then the Rangers would do just about anything to sell tickets--which they did, in enough numbers to stay afloat and stash a little money into the pockets of their various owners. What they almost never did, though, was compete.<br />
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For most of the 1970s and 1980s, the Texas Rangers did not play baseball; they inflicted it on the innocent sporting public of Dallas-Fort Worth. In blast-furnace heat, in a minor-league stadium that was still dumpy by minor-league standards, the former second coming of the Washington Senators stumbled to losing record after losing record, trading off good young players and bringing in washed-up old veterans who were out for one last payday.<br />
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Many moments stand out in Texas Rangers infamy--too many to name here. My personal favorite occurred when Bert Blyleven (born in the Netherlands, incidentally) famously endeared himself to Ranger fans one day by responding to their booing with a middle finger that he administered evenly to every fan in the park by slowly turning 360 degrees on the pitcher's mound. Even when the Rangers weren't bad, they were <a href="http://www.star-telegram.com/2010/10/05/2519555/in-1977-the-rangers-won-94-games.html">mired in constant chaos</a>. And when they were bad, they were absolutely horrible.<br />
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So bad were they that the franchise kept a constant stream of promotions going to keep fans coming to the park. I went to Arlington Stadium on cap night, bucket hat night, bat night (yes, full-size bats, not those little novelty jobs), plastic batting helmet night, Arlington Stadium commemorative pin night... I could go on. There were, to my memory, 81 promotions for 81 home games a year, some of them more intriguing than others. <br />
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For years, I had a Louisville Slugger Buddy Bell bat from bat night. I had gone to the game with my friend, Todd, and his father, who was rather a crusty fellow from Chicago. On the way back to Midlothian, we stopped at Braum's for milkshakes. At some point during the ride home, while Todd and I were rolling around in the back of a station wagon that had the seats down (wow, have times changed on that front--we were probably eight years old), I accidentally spilled my shake on his bat. Todd was furious; he insisted that we trade bats, and despite being scared to death of his dad (who did not intervene), I refused. He swore after that that his bat didn't work properly because the shake had softened it or something. It didn't matter much; he was a pretty darn good ballplayer, and I was awful. But I did have, perhaps, the superior bat. <br />
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Of course, I do have some nostalgic thoughts about the old Arlington Stadium and the old Rangers. The games were cheap and easy to attend--sellouts were extremely rare, and it was very possible on a given summer night to walk up to the stadium entrance and pay maybe $10 to get into the game and sit just about anywhere. Traffic was never bad. The nachos were decent. Arlington was much easier to get to and around than Dallas or Irving. Drunken fights in the broiling outfield seats provided entertainment when the Rangers didn't.<br />
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I used to be able to drive by the old stadium on Collins Street in Arlington and look at the scoreboard in a gap between the stands to see how badly the Rangers were losing. When I worked at <a href="http://www.leepender.com/2009/06/six-flags-appreciation.html">Six Flags Over Texas </a>in the summer of 1990, I could hear, from the depths of the Six Flags parking lot, the very occasional roar of the Arlington Stadium crowd, as the stadium and the amusement park were next to each other. The Ranger TV broadcasts used to be entertaining only because Steve Busby, the play-by-play announcer, called the games in the same way a singer at the Airport Hilton lounge belts out The Impossible Dream. I'm not really sure how else to explain that. He should have worn a half-unbuttoned disco shirt and a medallion in the booth. <br />
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Nostalgia, though, always gives way to a bit of resentment when it comes to the Rangers. With their lousy field and terrible teams, they deprived me of a real baseball experience in my childhood. Texas was a baseball outpost, a searing stop where real teams picked up a few wins, got dehydrated and moved on without fanfare. I took as a kid to cheering for the New York Mets, in part because the National League--then largely inaccessible on local television--fascinated me and in part because New York seemed like a real baseball city. (Don't ask me why I didn't cheer for the Yankees, but I'm glad I didn't.)<br />
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When the Rangers finally built the Ballpark in Arlington (or whatever it's called now), they ceased to be completely irrelevant and became only somewhat irrelevant. But it was too late for me by then--I was in college, and my interest in baseball had waned considerably, never to return in any serious way. So, it was with mixed, even confused, emotions that I watched the Rangers win the American League Championship Series and vanquish the hated Yankees. I'm happy for my cousin Roy and for my childhood best friend, John, both great guys and lifelong Ranger lovers. I'm happy that the Yankees lost. I do hope that the Rangers will go on to win the World Series.<br />
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But other than Nolan Ryan--whose son, Reese, was a classmate of mine at TCU and a very nice guy--I don't know who these Rangers are. Their uniforms are different. I've only been to the "new" Ballpark once, the year it opened. The fans are young, suburban and seemingly pretty middle-class, not like the crusty drunken fighters of years past. Men like former owner <a href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1093941/index.htm">Brad Corbett</a>, a pill of a man to whom I once sold socks at Neiman-Marcus in Fort Worth, are long gone. Eddie Chiles is no longer mad. The Rangers are good, very good, and completely unfamiliar. A generation of Texas baseball fans is growing up with real team that plays real baseball in a real ballpark. I can't help but think that that generation doesn't know what it's missing--and probably doesn't want to know.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-7909307554807563922010-10-09T21:49:00.000-04:002010-10-09T21:49:56.413-04:00Little Superfrog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TLEbGocZdCI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/jO0rBnKx6AQ/s1600/IMG_1825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TLEbGocZdCI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/jO0rBnKx6AQ/s320/IMG_1825.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TLEbR-5ZlsI/AAAAAAAAAaU/ApfqYXvQw2c/s1600/IMG_1834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TLEbR-5ZlsI/AAAAAAAAAaU/ApfqYXvQw2c/s320/IMG_1834.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TLEbZqqNIsI/AAAAAAAAAaY/0f9uTon28gU/s1600/IMG_1823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vlgVxfOqzkM/TLEbZqqNIsI/AAAAAAAAAaY/0f9uTon28gU/s320/IMG_1823.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Ike and Daddy watched TCU beat Wyoming 45-0 today. Little Man is signaling first down in that second picture...Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-81158256702768987822010-10-05T00:45:00.003-04:002010-10-05T15:36:32.226-04:00Little Man Loves Football<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5052798109/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4107/5052798109_75dcf49d26.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5052798109/"></a></span></div>Isaac and I watched the Pats beat the Dolphins tonight. He was very excited, as you might imagine. He's getting a steady diet of all three types of football--American football, soccer and rugby. Hockey season starts soon...Mom is obviously thrilled.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-77289282514521842362010-09-26T20:27:00.000-04:002010-09-26T20:27:32.232-04:00Gold Pride Wins WPS TitleIt might have seemed like a disappointment--and it really was--that the Breakers <a href="http://www.womensprosoccer.com/Home/boston/news/general/100924-semifinal-recap.aspx">lost their WPS "super semi-final"</a> at home to a Philadelphia team that they had handled fairly well for much of the season. But it really didn't matter because nobody, and certainly not Philadelphia in the WPS final, could contain FC Gold Pride, which <a href="http://www.womensprosoccer.com/Home/news/general/100926-bay-phi.aspx">finished off a season of dominance</a> with a well-earned WPS title.<br />
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This blog kind of faded at the end of the season, right when things should have been getting good. That was primarily due to the birth of my son, who came into the world on Sept. 22. However, I have not lost interest in the Breakers at all. In fact, I hope to be at the home matches again next season.<br />
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Boston showed a lot of grit and determination this year in finishing second in the regular season and making the later rounds of the playoffs after a rough start. Perhaps the layoff between the end of the regular season and the semi-final was a negative and not a positive; this team fed off of momentum as the season went on, and it's hard to keep momentum going during a bye week.<br />
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Nevertheless, the Breakers were entertaining all season, and I'd like to thank the players, coaches and club officials who granted Steven and me access to games and interviews. You've got an excellent organization that is set for success on the pitch and at the turnstiles in the future. We'll see you in 2011.<br />
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For more on the Boston Breakers, go to <a href="http://www.bostonbreakersreport.com/">Boston Breakers Report</a>. Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-21865068992812988732010-09-22T18:22:00.002-04:002010-09-22T18:26:46.268-04:00Isaac Dale Hevelone Pender<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5016075664/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4152/5016075664_8a20e78df2.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/5016075664/"></a></span></div>Born Sept. 22, 2010, at Mount Auburn Hospital in Cambridge, Mass.; 8 pounds 1 ounce, 20 inches long.<br />
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Many more pictures (along with other random photos) <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/leepender/sets/72157625013638422/with/5016075664/">here</a>. Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407250969308519237.post-25107297914022873442010-09-22T01:23:00.001-04:002010-09-22T06:39:21.939-04:00To My Son, Who Is about to Be BornWell, lad (you still don't have a name yet), God willing, today is your big day. The free ride is over. In a matter of hours, you'll come into the world in Cambridge, Mass., which automatically makes you a communist--sorry about that. At least you won't be a vegetarian--not if your Texan father has anything to say about it. Your mother and I can see the Boston skyline from our birthing room at Mount Auburn Hospital. It's lovely. You're going to like living here. We do.<br />
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Anyway, this is the kind of thing that is supposed to be full of philosophical ramblings and fatherly advice, but I don't have any of that. I'm not a dad quite yet, and I really don't know anything about being one. I'm going to have to figure that out as I go along, and unfortunately for you, kid, you're going to be my guinea pig. For life. But we'll have some good times together, at least as soon as you start doing more than sleeping and soiling your diapers.<br />
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Your birthday should be <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/September_22">Sept. 22</a>, 2010. It had better be, actually, because your mother has been through a wringer in the last 24 hours (and in the last nine months, really), and she is beyond ready to pop you out. You got lucky on that front, though, son. Dad is a bit of a loose cannon sometimes, but you couldn't possibly have a better mother. You'll see. <br />
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I had planned to pen you a beautiful little essay that you could treasure forever, but the truth is that I'm pretty wiped out. It's past 1 am, and you could be here in a few hours. So, I'll leave you with the thought that you're going to be born on Bulgarian Independence Day as as well as on the anniversary of the independence of Switzerland. Just let that wash over you for a while... That stuff is actually not trivial, but we'll get into that later.<br />
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Stuff from 2010 will look really antiquated to you by the time you're my age (36). It might look antiquated by the time you're 10. And to tell you the truth, 2010 is not so great in a lot of ways. The economy is a mess. The job market is terrible, although I'm fortunate enough to have a good, secure gig that I actually like. The Cowboys are 0-2. The Patriots just lost to the Jets. West Ham are sitting at the bottom of the Premiership table. (This will all make sense eventually--very soon, actually.) <br />
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On the other hand, though, TCU has a great football team, and West Ham won a Carling Cup match in Sunderland the day before you were born. So there are plenty of good things happening as you wait to enter the world in a quasi-quaint hospital room in what some people call the Athens of America. You, though, will be the best thing of all. I couldn't tell you with any accuracy where I was on Sept. 22 from 1974-2009, but I'll never forget where I was on Sept. 22, 2010.<br />
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Come on out, kid. We'll get you cleaned up, come up with a name for you and take you home to Waltham. You'll be sharing a nursery with your mother's desk, but it's still a pretty nice spread. And you'll love our balcony, as long as you promise not to fall off of it. Son, I'm (probably) about to go to sleep for the last time as just a regular dude. At some point later today--God willing and knock wood--I'll be a dad. And you'll be a son, and we can try to figure stuff out together.Lee Penderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07482366295822166066noreply@blogger.com6