Satchel’s room…or mine?
Posted: July 3, 2011 Filed under: Baseball, Parenthood 1 Comment »
Someone asked me this week if we had assembled a crib yet and I said we hadn’t. Actually, we haven’t done much in the way of preparing Satchel’s room as September still feels like a ways off. But I did make my first contributions to his room today. I didn’t really plan to go with any type of theme, but a baseball and Royals theme is just kind of happening and I’m not going to fight it.
When my parents made the move to Tishomingo last week they dropped off a few boxes that contained stuff from my childhood. I’m not going to lie, I threw a lot of it away. But I plan to use a lot of the baseball stuff for Satchel’s room. Today I put up the bat and ball holders that I had as a child. One is shaped like a baseball helmet with a Royals logo and the other is shaped like a baseball glove (see picture).
My parents also dropped off a complete set of bases that I once used while playing backyard baseball and I decided there was no better use than to put a base in each corner. The crib will go up the first base line and I think the dresser might be best at shortstop.
People ask me if it feels real yet, having a baby. I’m not really sure what that means, and maybe someday soon I will, but I feel like my life has been pretty well prepared for change. I know a baby will be a big one, and I am excited, but during our marriage we have made cross country moves, had several jobs, attended a couple of schools and moved more times than I can count. Every year is something different and this year has already had its fair share of challenges and changes.
I guess putting stuff in his room does make this thing feel more real but I’m not sure it will really sink in until Satchel is actually here as his own person. Right now everything we do is really about us, and let’s face it, the first several years of a child’s life is more about the parents than the kid. We may pick out clothing and decorate a room, but its all for us. There isn’t much a baby can do I guess to be his or her own individual, but when those moments start happening I suppose that’s when it will feel the most “real” for me.
Until then, he’s going to have to put up with the Royals room until he can tell me what else he would like.
Covering a disaster
Posted: June 4, 2011 Filed under: Journalism Leave a comment »
Front page of the May 26 Piedmont-Surrey Gazette.
It was 4 p.m. on Tuesday and the paper was put to bed. The pages were sent to the press and the front page was heavy with the recent graduation of Piedmont High School and a story on how the city was prepared for any severe weather that might come its way this summer. I could have gone home and enjoyed a relaxing evening before I began another weekly news cycle, but I had heard bad weather was coming our way and thought it would be a good idea to stick around. At the very least I could update our website with some photos of some downed tree limbs and a report from the fire department that all was good after a relatively typical Oklahoma storm.
I first thought the storm might have a better chance of hitting Okarche, one of two town’s we cover, but at the last minute the storm angled to the east and came straight through northern Piedmont. I rode out the tornado in the middle school, where a community shelter had been opened. It seemed like a bad storm, but nothing too major. Once the sky cleared I headed out and saw an unusual amount of emergency vehicles headed north. I decided to follow until I was prevented from going any further due to road blocks about a mile north of the center of town. I abandoned my car, walked into the secure neighborhood and found street after street of destroyed homes.
I called the press and said we would have a brand new paper by morning.
The last two weeks have been busy for our small news room as we produced a new issue in the wake of the storm through an all-night news gathering and layout operation. The next week was spent collecting survivor stories and attempting to organize the immense amount of information that was flowing in for the next week’s paper and to aggressively update our paper’s website.
Front page of the June 2 Piedmont-Surrey Gazette.
I would never describe myself as a seasoned journalist. At 26 it would be hard to be a seasoned anything, but this is a craft that I continue to learn and continue to look at with fresh eyes. I have covered other major events, such as quadruple homicides and other horrific crimes, but never a natural disaster. Assessing the situation I figured people’s lives had just been ruined. Some people were going to be in need of some immediate help and it was my job to tell that story in a way that documented what would be a historic day in Piedmont.
I’m sure we made some mistakes along the way, but overall, I was pretty pleased with the product we were able to create in the weeks following the May 24 tornado. Not that I am hoping to cover another natural disaster someday, but I did come out of the experience with some specific thoughts and lessons learned on the process.
- Organize Information: The most challenging aspect of disaster coverage is the inflow of information. Staying organized with each fact, and verifying each fact, becomes the name of the game. In our newsroom we used a wall with post-it notes to organize any piece of info that we collected. A green post-it signified information that was verified and true; red was used for those facts that had yet to be checked. It was extremely helpful as we compiled our information for the printed issue the following week and allowed us to make sure we were covering every angle of the story and its many facets.
- Importance of the Web: I don’t need any convincing on how important the Internet is for journalism in the 21st Century, but for a sleepy town like Piedmont, that has only recently had a relatively strong newspaper website, the disaster coverage really tested our use of the website and its effectiveness in reaching our readers with timely information in between editions of the weekly paper. We averaged several hundred readers a day before the tornado. We hit 4,000 the night of the tornado, 12,000 the next day and 20,000 the following day when a missing child was found dead in a Piedmont lake. Since then we have gone back down to around 4,000 readers a day.
- Doing it all: I love community journalism because I get to be a writer, graphic designer and photographer all in one day. All three aspects were important in telling the story of the May 24 tornado. The event did not need any bigger hype, as it was already one of the biggest events to happen in the town. The layout of the paper was used to signify the severity of the event, strong writing (hopefully) allowed our readers to separate rumors and murky opinions from the facts of the event and photos told the story in a way that no words could. Photo albums online also became a way for residents, and other across the country, to experience the storm in a way that did not involve crowding emergency workers and survivors as they tried to dig out from the storm. Even if you were a Piedmont resident that did not suffer any damage, it was still a dark day for your community and we received lots of comments from readers that said they appreciated the opportunity to feel connected to the event with photos and survivor accounts.
- Who’s in the know: When an event of this scale takes place you have a plethora of people involved, each with some perceived leadership role. You have Red Cross officials, city staff, political officials, emergency crews, church leaders and more that each play an important role in the tornado’s wake. However, not everyone is in the know and it becomes important to know which persons hold credible information (Police, city staff, emergency management staff) and which do not (politicians). Sound bites and opinions are everywhere, but there is too little time to just take what you can get. You have to quickly determine where the best source of information comes from and start developing those beats. Fact checking is important in every story, no matter big or small. But this event was an exercise in the importance verifying each piece of information is, especially when your audience has tripled and many are relying on those facts to make decisions.
What’s in a name?
Posted: May 9, 2011 Filed under: Baseball, Parenthood 3 Comments »
It was my 13th birthday, I think, and my father asked me what I wanted and what I wanted to do. I told him I wanted a Kansas City birthday, which to me meant Bar-B-Q and baseball. I don’t remember if we set out on our KC Day on my actual birthday or waited till the weekend, but my father took me to Gates BBQ in midtown Kansas City. Debates will rage on whether Gates is KC’s best (it is one of my favorites) but it is definitely a Kansas City icon. For a 13-year-old boy there was nothing more adult then walking into the restaurant during lunch amidst the suits of the workday and, as confidently as I could, offer my order to the famous Gate’s workers who welcome each customer with a loud “Hi, may I help you,” which is part greeting and part intimidating encouragement to hurry with your order.
Following our lunch at Gates we headed a few miles north to KC’s jazz district, the recently revitalized neighborhood that was once the heartbeat of African American culture in the Midwest and home to jazz clubs and near the former Municipal Stadium, home for the Athletics and Monarchs, among other teams. In the mid 90’s the city built the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum and the American Jazz Museum in honor of some of the rich traditions that put KC on the map. On my birthday my dad and I made our first visit to the Negro League’s museum.
When anyone asks me where to visit when in Kansas City, I almost always suggest the museum. It is not only a shrine to the game’s popularity in KC, but tells the wonderful, and tragic, story of the Negro Leagues, a league that was the only home for some of baseball’s best players who were banned from the Majors because of the color of their skin.
While it is unfortunate that the Negro Leagues were necessary, it is also a great chapter in the history of America’s game. A mixture of greatness, tall tales, perseverance and innovation, the Negro Leagues were a fascinating period in baseball history.
I remember walking through the museum with my dad and reading about the history of the league, its success and the bitter-sweet ending it had as Major League Baseball finally came to its senses. The Negro Leagues have many great figures, but none stand bigger than Satchel Paige. The lanky right-handed pitcher is considered by many to be one of the best pitchers to play in any league and his colorful personality and immense talent made him part legitimate hall of famer and part folklore.
In the middle of the museum is a replica baseball field that features statues at each position of the Negro League’s best player. Right in the middle at the pitcher’s mound is a bronze statue of Satchel, standing with his hand and glove together, dressed in a Monarchs uniform and staring towards the batter at home plate.
It was a great day, a great birthday and a great time with my father. My dad and I both share a love for our city, a passion for sports and have used both as an exercise in spending time together, whether its checking out a midnight jazz show near 18th and Vine or taking a road trip halfway across the country to catch the Royals in spring training.
As I prepare to be a father of a boy of my own I think a lot about the relationship I have with my own father and the experiences I look forward to having with me as the dad. Maybe someday I can take my son on a trip to KC for some BBQ and a trip to the Negro League museum. If so, it will be a great opportunity to teach him about his name’s origins, Satchel Benjamin Felder. As a big fan of the game, it is my hope that my son will share a love for baseball, or at least humor me. I want him to grow up with an appreciation and knowledge about the game and its role in America’s history. I hope his life as a Royals fan will be better than mine and that he just can’t believe the Royals had two decades of losing play. I want him to know the game’s history and to know that while there are much more important things in life than baseball or sports, there is also a lot to learn about life within the game. I want him to understand that there is injustice in the world and that while our country, and world, has a rocky past with issues such as diversity and compassion; he can play an important role in changing that. I want him to be inspired by stories of perseverance by people of all races and creeds and I want him to have fond memories of his childhood and for his favorite birthday memory to be one spent with his dad, like mine is.
I want him to understand that wrapped up in his name is a tribute to a great game, a great player, and great memories. Besides, if and when he plays little league ball, steps into the box, chokes up on the bat and digs his back leg into the dirt, the fielders may know little about his abilities but the name Satchel should at least cause the outfield to play a step or two back.
Osama’s death full of symbolism, little substance
Posted: May 2, 2011 Filed under: Uncategorized 3 Comments »Moments like yesterday are the ones I kind of dread as a parent. Sunday night television programs were interrupted and Twitter feeds fired off with the news that Osama bin Laden had been killed by American forces. Nearly a decade since this cave dwelling terrorist was named the most wanted man by the military; America finally got its man.
It was a weird night as the media analyzed, like they do, and crowds gathering in the streets of D.C. and New york celebrating the announced assassination. It was proclaimed as a victory for America yet it didn’t seem like a moment worth celebrating to me. If this had happened several years in the future and my little girl or boy asked me what it all means and why we should be happy, I think that would be a tough conversation for me.
At the very least it would be a conversation with my child in which I tell him or her that we don’t celebrate death and it would be an opportunity to talk about the way our culture values symbolism and how it doesn’t always mean what it appears.
The targets on 9/11 were chosen because they were easy and symbolic. Hitting two large and recognizable buildings with airplanes manned by terrorists with basic piloting knowledge was the easiest plan and both targets were symbolic; the World Trade Center representing America’s financial might and the Pentagon our military strength. No doubt there were targets and methods that could have resulted in more casualties but in a battle over hearts and minds its symbolism, not substance that matters.
In the same way yesterday’s killing of Osama bin Laden was a symbolic victory for America. Military officials have long admitted that the suspected mastermind of the 9/11 attacks had been stripped of any real power for the past several years. With limited access to funding, a possible kidney illness and the need to be in constant flight, Osama was no longer a true leader of any regime. But that didn’t matter, because his death is a symbolic show of strength by the U.S.
How does this change the fight against terrorism? How does this comfort hurting families? How does this make us any safer as a nation and world? These are difficult questions that need more than symbolic gestures, but we celebrate as a nation because it’s easy to do so. I in no way mean to defend Osama and I feel no compassion for him. His life brought the world a lot of hurt and pain. He lived by the sword and he died by it. I guess we also live by the sword as a nation, it’s just ours is a lot bigger.
This is a big story. Newspapers ran the story with double decked headlines on page one because that’s what newspapers do. Our Nobel Peace Prize winning president took over national airways to break the news to his people, because that’s what presidents do. College aged kids celebrated in the streets of D.C. because, despite being young children on 9/11, 20-somethings will always look for a reason to party, because that’s what they do.
I don’t mean to say that this isn’t a big deal and if patriotism is your hobby them this was as good a reason as any to break into U.S.A. chants. But if you want to live in the world of symbolism you have to forget substance.
I will admit that I felt a bit of embarrassment watching the reports last night. Celebrating in the streets, the National Anthem breaking out at a baseball game, these all seemed like archaic expressions that lacked any intelligent worldview.
Then again, maybe I should just drape the American Flag over my back and celebrate this as the biggest victory in the fight against terrorism, never mind the fact that our country will be on high alert this week and security will be as tight as its been in recent months. Symbolism is nice, but when we get something of actual substance, that will deserve some celebrating in the streets.
The farmer behind the bar
Posted: April 30, 2011 Filed under: Coffee Leave a comment »
Ben and Joe Molina at Trabant coffee in Seattle.
Several ingredients go into a great city, one of which is a strong local coffee scene. Yesterday was a great day for Oklahoma City because its coffee scene just got a lot stronger. Elemental Coffee is conducting a soft opening of its new café this weekend with an official open date planned for next week. There are a few good cafes in the city already, but with this local roaster opening its first retail location, the bar just got raised and OKC is on its way to becoming a coffee destination along the route between Kansas City and Dallas.
I have a love affair with coffee and, in a way, Friday was like Christmas for me. So, in honor of Elemental’s opening I offer a few posts this week with a coffee theme.
One of the best jobs I ever had was as a manager of a coffee shop, located in Seattle’s University District. At the time I was attending seminary and wasn’t exactly sure what that would lead to or if I was even in the right place, but my time at the coffee shop was simple and joyful. Eventually I left seminary and for the remainder of our time in Seattle I worked as the morning manager.
I love coffee and by love I mean I actually have a deep respect and value for the drink. From its production around the world to culture it has created in some of America’s urban cores, I am a fan of its many characteristics. I do really love the drink and that is why it frustrates me to see a nation consumed with its mediocre production. In the same way a chef cringes at the site of McDonalds, I too lament over bad coffee, particularly when just a few simple changes could make it so much better. (Not that I am the equivalent of a chef when it comes to coffee, however at one point I could work my way around a coffee bar pretty well)
While I was working at the shop in Seattle we had the unique opportunity to host one of the farmers who produced some of our coffee. He was going to be at a national coffee festival in Los Angeles and my shop’s owners thought it would be a great opportunity to fly him up to Seattle during his American visit.
His name was Joe Molina and was a coffee famer from El Salvador. His farm won the industry’s Cup of Excellence award in 2004 and his visit was an opportunity for our customers to hear more about social and environmental responsibility as a coffee producer, and the care he takes towards the environment and his workers.
Like many specialty coffee shops, ours took great pride in the beans we ordered and Molina’s crop was some of the best at the time. During his visit our staff had a chance to sit down to dinner with Joe and hear stories about his farm the people he employed. Here was a simple farmer that took pride in his work and was just amazed that that care and passion was being recognized by a bunch of 20-somethings in America. The next day Joe came to the shop and got a chance to actually serve his coffee.
At the time there was a new machine that was buzzing the specialty coffee world. It’s called the Clover and it is a very expensive machine that use a French press-like process to produce a cup of coffee in a matter of seconds that has a very tea-like quality. It’s really good and the machine is fun to operate. You essentially grind the beans, dump them into the machine, press a button and then a Wizard of Oz process takes place that produces a single cup of coffee in under one minute. Some in the coffee industry have not looked favorably on the device, especially since it went commercial a few years ago with the purchase by Starbucks, but it does produce a good cup of coffee and anyone can use it with just a few instructions.
Back at the shop, Joe manned the Clover machine and as customers came in he would say, “Hi, my name is Joe, would you like to try some of my coffee?” It was an amazing experience to see people say yes, to watch Joe make the coffee and then serve it to them. It was actually a very emotional experience at times and to each customer that purchased his coffee from the Clover Joe would give them a little information about his farm and family.
We did a pretty good job of trying to educate our customers on the journey coffee takes from seed to cup, but having Joe there was the best tool we ever had in expanding people’s mind about the products they purchase each day. Everything we touch, consume and use comes from some place. Someone’s livelihood is based on the production of that product and each time we participate in an act of consumerism we are not only making a choice about the type of product we want, but also where we want our products to come from.
I’m a big fan of local and feel that purchasing products and eating at restaurants that are locally owned is a great way to support your neighbors and community. I can also appreciate the argument of some that we should buy American. It’s a good idea at times, but this is too global of a world to only spend our money on products made in the states.
I’m not always the best at choosing which products to buy. While I feel passionate about coffee, there are others that feel the same way about other products that I take for granted. If nothing else, Joe’s visit was a reminder that we Americans are at the top of the consumerism food chain, and the simple decisions we make each day have immense ripple effects all the way down the families in countries located halfway around the world.
Elemental is an example of a coffee shop that shares that value and it’s exciting to have them open a shop that can help further that global perspective…as well as offer some great tasting coffee.
The Monday after Easter
Posted: April 25, 2011 Filed under: Christianity Leave a comment »I have to be honest; I have no idea what to do with Easter.
Somehow I feel like this past week’s message of Christ’s death and resurrection should mean more for me. I don’t mean to imply that it is meaningless, but I can’t help but feel as if there is more to the story than I am realizing.
We go from the sadness of Good Friday to the joy of Easter Sunday really quick. Almost too quick. This is a really bizarre story and I find myself wondering if I’m the only one that is confused by the fact that we killed our God and three days later he says, “It’s okay.” That’s a simplistic view of the resurrection story, I know, but I can’t help but feel like it should invoke major life changes, yet here I am on a Monday morning wondering if anything is really different for me. Gods don’t rise from the dead without causing people to do some deep reflection and any type of deep reflection that doesn’t lead to specific modifications in the way one lives doesn’t seem to be worth much.
Last week I started to reread “Lord, teach us,” the book by William Willimon and Stanley Hauerwas on the Lord’s Prayer. I haven’t read this book in several years and thought a chapter a day would be a good addition to my morning reading routine for the next week or so. Today’s chapter was a claim that God does in fact have some very specific thoughts on the way we should live and that it is nearly impossible to follow His way without tangible outcomes. Here are a few quotes from chapter four.
“In an age in which there is an alleged outburst of enthusiasm for things spiritual, it may come as a shock to admit that Christianity is very materialistic. Our goal is not to fill you with enough spiritual hot air that you float a foot above the earth. Our goal is to teach you to pray in such a way that material matters like politics and bread will be for you spiritual matters. Jesus did not come urging us to think about him, or to feel deeply about him. When he called disciples, he did not come seeking our disembodied individual spirits. Jesus came inviting us to join up with his kingdom…
Seeing the kingdom at hand necessitates a response, a decision…
…faith in Jesus is not simply an idea or an emotion. It is a concrete reality in which we are to become part of else appear to be out of step with the way things are now that God has come into the world in Jesus…
We want you, body and soul. Indeed we believe that your body is your soul. So we’ve got opinions about the way you spend your money, invest your time, cast your ballot.
…God’s kingdom enables us to be opposed to the way the world sets up boundaries, on the basis of gender, class, race, economics, or accent. Nothing is more provincial and parochial than the modern nation that sets up national boundaries and then defends them with murderous intensity. God’s kingdom’s boundaries obliterate all of the world’s false means of demarcation between human beings. Here is a kingdom open to all, with no consideration given for the world’s boundaries. Our boundary is baptism.
Simply put, the new reality that Christ calls us into is a “concrete reality.” Yesterday in church our sermon revolved around the realness of the resurrection story and the realness of Christ’s kingdom. There are difficult, gut wrenching decisions that are put on us through the message of Easter and I don’t think we understand that challenge as well as we should.
The funny thing is that when you read the words of Willimon and Hauerwas it’s easy to read into it political viewpoints. All this talk about boundaries, nations and money can seem to have a political agenda behind it. In fairness to the book, there isn’t a political agenda that argues for a Christian lifestyle that is either conservative of liberal, but the reality is the story of Christ has plenty to say about these political issues. Christianity has strong opinions about economics, the military, education and community development. However, it’s the easy to keep politics out of the church and avoid upsetting people. But maybe we need to be upsetting some people, starting with myself. Maybe I need to be upset about the way this resurrection story calls me to change some specific ways in which I live my life.
However, maybe the Easter story isn’t complex at all. Maybe we make it complex because taking a simplistic view of it would quickly call into question the very foundation our society is built on. War is bad, abundance when there is poverty is evil, classifying people by race, gender and nationality is wrong. I’m really not trying to argue for a political agenda with this post, I’m just simply saying that taking at face value the resurrection story seems to have some specific opinions about the world and the way it should be.
How could a God that dies for his people be in support of the way we divide out society? How could he not have some strong words to say about war and violence? How could he not believe that refusing to help a person in need, no matter the circumstance, is wrong?
See, these are the difficulties that come for me the Monday following Easter. I don’t know what to do with this story, or maybe I know very well what I should do with it, but it’s just easier to pretend like I don’t.
(Quotes taken from Chapter Four, pages 50-54)
My journey in becoming a Thunder fan
Posted: April 23, 2011 Filed under: Thunder Leave a comment »
Oklahoma City Thunder fans have become well-known for packing their arena for home games and producing a lot of noise.
I didn’t grow up really paying all that much attention to the NBA. I do remember watching some of the playoffs, especially some of the famous Chicago Bulls teams in the 90’s and was always knowledgeable enough to discuss the subject with friends, but it wasn’t a league that was high on my list. I was more of a college basketball fan, especially growing up in the land of Kansas, Mizzou and the Big 12. The Big 8 and then Big 12 Basketball Tournament was always a big event each year in Kansas City and I really didn’t have an NBA team close to home that I felt like I could root for.
I never lived in a NBA town until I moved to Seattle. I have always thought its somewhat important to support the local teams in the town you live in and as I got to know the Seahawks and Mariners, I also began to follow the Sonics. I went to a game or two and would watch on TV, follow the team storylines in the paper and got to a point where I knew more about the Sonics than I ever did about any other NBA team. It wouldn’t be accurate to say that I was captivated by the league and the Sonics, but I enjoyed it.
A couple of years after moving back to Kansas City a lot of talk began to surface about the possible relocation of the Sonics. The team had been sold and it was obvious that the new owner wanted to move the team. There was some talk about Kansas City as a potential destination since it had just opened a brand new downtown arena, but with the owner from Oklahoma it seemed obvious that he was set on moving the team to his hometown. I followed the drama of the Sonics’ new owner and his push to move the team. I would read about the ordeal in the Oklahoma City and Seattle newspapers, and understandably both had different takes on the issue.
In Seattle no one wanted to see the team leave. The Sonic were the only professional sports team that had brought a championship to the city and it was a team that had created a friendly rivalry with nearby Portland. There was support for the Sonics, at least as much as you would expect for a team that had not won in recent years. The owner claimed that he wanted the the city to build a new area and while I don’t think the city was against the idea, most of the city did not want to spend millions of dollars on another sports facility. The Mariners and Seahawks had recently built their own tax supported palaces and the people of Seattle had just felt like they had already given enough.
In Oklahoma City the city of Seattle was cast as a town that did not care about the Sonics and that the team would be better off in another town. It was like the team was a child up for adoption, Oklahoma City was the prospective adoptive parents and Seattle was the biological mother. It was a lot easier for OKC to just criticize Seattle in an effort to justify taking a team away. I don’t blame Oklahoma City. It’s a pretty horrible thing to take a team away from another city and you have to tell yourself that the team is better off with you in order to validate the action. Maybe the team is better off in Oklahoma City. You sure can easily make that argument, but I just think Seattle got an unfair image. In a state like Oklahoma where conservatives complain about using tax dollars unwisely, Seattle was ironically being blamed for not wanted to spend more of its tax dollars on a new arena when the one it had was actually pretty adequate.
Just a side note: I hope Oklahoma City keeps the Thunder forever, but what happens in 10 years if the team enters a long losing stretch? If crowds drop, which would be completely understandable, and the team wants some tax payer supported improvements to the arena that the city is not big on, will another city come calling for the team? I’m not saying that will happen, but its not like the Sonics didn’t have a pretty solid foundation in one of America’s largest markets. My point is that if a city like Seattle can lose the Sonics I’m not sure which teams are really safe from possible relocation talks, especially when a period of losing sets in.
Anyway, the team moved to Oklahoma City, which not being from Oklahoma City at the time, I thought was kind of a shame. I had a one year relationship with the Sonics and figured that was the end of the story. However, a few years later I find myself in Oklahoma City with the opportunity to rekindle a relationship I once had with the franchise.
After living in OKC for almost one year and having a chance to watch the Thunder this entire season I would consider myself a fan, but not yet a fanatic. Here is why: because for me sports teams are very personal things. I have less respect for people who just pick a team to root for and have no special ties with the team and I can completely relate to those that grew up with a team as a member of its family. For me the Royals and Chiefs are two teams I grew up with, used as a way to relate to my father, were the teams that I pretended to be playing for in the backyard, and Kauffman Stadium is one of the best memories from my childhood. Thunder fans are passionate and fanatical, but to be completely honest, I still find it odd that a city can be that in love with a team that has only been here for a few years. I don’t mean that as an insult, in fact, I would use it as a complement to the city. The town has completely embraced the Thunder and is already putting itself out there as one of the more supportive fan bases in the league. Of course its easy to be a fan when your team is winning and the Thunder have quickly emerged as one of the league’s most successful teams with some of the league’s best talent. Fans will say they deserve the success after a year of losing when the team first came to town, but one bad year is hardly a test of patience. Someday the Thunder will hit a lengthy slump. It’s just a fact for nearly every team. When that time comes we will see a true test of patience, but until I am proven otherwise, I will believe that this city will continue to be very supportive.
As for me, I am still learning to be a fan, still in the early dating period with the Thunder. I know the team pretty well, have a firm grasp for the players and coaches and follow the team rather closely. But if the Royals rank as a 100 on a scale for my passion the Thunder probably haven’t cracked the 25 mark, yet. However, this season has been a great first date and the playoffs are no doubt headed in the right direction. I don’t mean to imply that it will take winning for me to completely accept the Thunder, but it sure helps. I’m particular about the teams I let into my inner circle and the Thunder is making a strong case.
I can appreciate the passion of the town and I love the way that even though the Thunder are one of the league’s best teams, they still carry with them an underdog mentality as one of the smallest markets in professional sports. I like the unselfish play that many of the players seem to embody and, I will admit, I have at times been caught up in the team’s marketing ploy as a an active member of the community.
I am a Royals, Chiefs and KU basketball fan; three teams that have been with me for over two decades. It is a new, and sometimes fun, experience letting another team apply for a spot on that list.
Four times a day
Posted: April 14, 2011 Filed under: Uncategorized Leave a comment »There is hardly a job that I haven’t done and that includes working at a call center when I was in high school. I needed a quick buck and there was a small call center near my home that specialized in calling people around dinner time and offering them a free cruise, with the catch that they had to attend a timeshare seminar in order to receive the free cruise voucher.
I will admit: the job sucked. I didn’t like calling people and they didn’t like talking to me. But it was a way to make some money and I only did it for a few months.
The job was entertaining, to say the least. People did not like being interrupted during a meal to hear my offer and they would let me know that. I had one person threaten to find where I live and kill me. Another person I’m pretty sure just farted into the phone as he hung up, and another person told me that God loves most people, but not telemarketers.
Honestly, it didn’t really bother me much. I have had my struggles with call center professionals on the other end and I understood people’s hostility. Here you have a frustrating event during a day probably full of frustrating events. However, during this interaction over the phone the person had the opportunity to let out their rage without having to deal with any repercussions that might follow if they instead told off their boss or the cop that pulled them over on the way home. Telemarketers are a safe punching bag that probably provides society with an important therapeutic service.
Then there are the call centers that you are the one that has to call them. This morning I had to call and straighten out an issue involving a student loan payment and I had to go through a call center. I don’t mind the fact that call centers are increasingly overseas or that I even have to dial a few extra numbers to speak to someone in English. My problem is when I actually have a real complaint I can’t talk to the person that actually matters. I have to talk to a call service rep that had nothing to do with my problem. I always like to image that somewhere on an island there is a man wearing a top hat and a monocle that is smoking a cigar rolled in my student loan payment, just laughing away. But the only person I can talk to is Joyce in Toledo.
It’s not Joyce’s fault that I had a problem with my payment, but I still feel the need to tell her about in a way that helps her grasp my own frustration for the incident. But I usually end up getting off the phone feeling some remorse for the way I acted.
This whole story is a long way of getting to the topic of small interactions with complete strangers and the way I treat them. In the Christian world it is kind of popular to talk about every interaction as an opportunity to act like Christ but I’m not sure how much that helps me. I mean, a lot of the time Christ was short with people and even angry at times. I know this is going to sound sacrilegious, but sometimes Christ just isn’t the best example to follow. I don’t mean to imply we shouldn’t try, but we have to admit that his standards are a bit higher than ours and can we every truly replicate the life of Christ while continuing to live within the comforts of our 21st Century American society?
That’s a discussion for another post, but back to the subject of how I treat people. I figure that throughout the day I have at least four interactions a day with people that I don’t know, and by interactions I am including face-to-face or over the phone conversations. I am not including people I pass in the car or even clerks I see over the counter at the gas station. Not that those people don’t matter, but I’m specifically focusing on the more “intimate” encounters. Four may still not sound like a lot but over the course of the year that’s over 1,000 people that I have a few minutes of time with each that could possibly alter their day, or even mine. I don’t have any profound thoughts of wisdom on the matter or advice on how we should be treating people, except to say that for a person like me that at times tries to avoid people and doesn’t feel like I have an opportunity to make much of an impression on others, I actually hold more power than I realize.
The only suggestion I could possibly make is that it can sometimes be a good idea to find out something about the person that I am talking to that I really don’t need to know. That’s kind of a trick I have picked up as a journalist, but what I mean is walking away from the conversation with some knowledge about the other person that I didn’t have to know. I don’t mean being some creepy guy that asks too personal of questions, but instead taking an extra step in asking a question that might reveal something about the other person that they didn’t expect to talk about.
Then again that’s a form of forced interaction, and I hate forced interaction. But, then again, there is nothing wrong with being intentional in life and maybe I need to let my effort of being more intentional spill over to the few one-on-one interactions that I have throughout the day with complete strangers.
Dear Manny
Posted: April 12, 2011 Filed under: Baseball Leave a comment »
Dear Manny Ramirez,
Your retirement from baseball will bring no sadness to this baseball fan and your career might perfectly sum up the baseball experience of the past 15 years; fun, energetic, amazing at times, but ultimately made up of very little substance.
I once remember watching your Cleveland Indians team in Kansas City, and despite only giving up one hit the entire game, that one hit by you was a homer run that was good enough to give the Indians a 1-0 win over the Royals. During my high school years you were my least favorite player to watch because you did some of the most damage to my team. You have hit the fifth most homeruns against the Royals of any player in baseball with 37 and it brings me no sadness to see you leave this game.
But more than enjoying the fact that one of the biggest Royals killers of them all is no longer playing, I am glad to see you go because I am ready to put an end to the baseball years of my youth. I grew up with a deep passion for the game of baseball but always felt like the irony of my life was having to grow up in the 90’s. I heard stories of the glory days of the game from years past when the game didn’t revolve around television markets and million dollar contracts, but instead was played by men who understood what it meant to wear the name of a city on the front of their jersey. I also heard the stories of how the Royals were the envy of baseball in the 70’s and 80’s, the team that everyone wanted to emulate and few could beat. I heard stories about how baseball rivalries use to not be between the league’s biggest markets, but was actually played against teams like the Yankees and Royals in a real life example of David verse Goliath.
These are the stories I heard during the years of my youth but the game I experienced was vastly different. The Royals might have been the darlings of baseball in the 80’s, but the team I watched struggled to avoid losing 100 games. Television networks claimed to provide better access to the game, but all I saw was networks devoted to an East Coast bias and then complain when no one knew anything about the teams from the Midwest that sometimes slipped into the playoffs.
The game I experienced was recovering from a strike in 1994 and found a way to rebound through the long ball. Baseball writers were household names to me, but these men that I closely followed turned a blind eye when players doubled in size overnight and started cranking homeruns out of the ballpark at a pace never before seen. “Chicks dig the long ball” was the slogan during my youth and the game was growing in popularity, yet still I could not feel as if this was not how baseball was meant to be.
Fast forward to today and the heroes of the game from my youth –Barry Bonds, Mark McGuire, Roger Clemons, and even you, Manny Ramirez- are quickly falling with disgrace as they remain the game’s biggest record holders, yet also the game’s biggest cheats.
I don’t mean to get all philosophical here and I realize baseball is only just a game, but I can’t help but feel like something was robbed from my generation. The past 20 years has seen the transformation of baseball stadiums into amusement parks, financial inequalities strip historical baseball towns of their pride and baseball’s greatest records overcome with a thick shadow of doubt. The sport has made millions and grown in TV ratings, but I can’t help but feel like it has also taken a giant step backwards.
And I blame you, Manny.
I know it’s not all your fault, but you represent the game of my youth and the cheating, greed and arrogance that has watered down the sport. It’s still a great game, despite you Manny. But its greatness has become harder to recognize because of players like you who will leave the game disgraced, but comforted with millions of dollars that were, quite honestly, stolen from fans and owners.
There will still be people that will turn a blind eye to your cheating and celebrate your talent. There is no doubt that you were fun to watch, but just like the newly build stadiums of the past decade that are made to you look like the retro ballparks of old, you are a fake and your departure from the game at least makes baseball a little more real.
So long Manny!
Anthony Shadid
Posted: April 12, 2011 Filed under: Journalism Leave a comment »
Anthony Shadid
Last week Lori and I attended a special event at the Oklahoma City National Memorial and Museum to hear Anthony Shadid, a New York Times foreign correspondent, talk about his capture in Libya earlier this year and the effect it had on him as a journalist and a person.
Shadid and three other journalists were taken captive by the army of Col. Muammar Al-Ghaddafi on March 16 and were held for four days. During the ordeal the journalists were threatened with their life and beaten, but ultimately escaped without any major harm, at least as much as you can from something like that.
I won’t necessarily go into great detail about Shadid’s entire message, except to mention a few main themes that I took away from the event.
First, journalism is important. Whether you are a sports fan, interested in politics, a business owner or into art, journalism informs you, and even if you don’t read, information still finds its way to you. It’s a shame the way some give journalists get a bad name, especially from politicians that are just trying to deflect bad press away from themselves. But the reality is journalism is as important as ever, and in some cases it’s a dangerous job being a journalist in some parts of the world.
I try not to take it for granted that I can wake up each morning and read accounts from places like Libya. The work and risk that some journalists undertake to tell stories is easy to take for granted and as a society we can often times overlook the importance information can have for us a people.
The second thing I took away from Shadid’s message was the heaviness he felt for making a decision that not only impacted him, but also his family and friends. Shadid also talked about his discomfort with the fact that after deciding to stay in Libya he was captured but so was his driver, who he has not been able to follow up on. Shadid spoke with great humility about the fact that a decision he made had possibly cost a young man his life, not to mention cost his family days of heartache.
