The Sam Man!

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There's no doubt about the heartbeat of our household. If we were a band Sam would be the drums. He keeps the beat better than the rest of us.

And my boy turns eleven years old today. I know that I'm going to be eating either chicken wings or ribs somewhere tonight because those are his two favorites.

I guess I'll have to suck it up.

But you see, the thing about Sam is that he seriously likes to talk. If you are even remotely connected to our family he has done one of two things to you...called you just to chat...or made a bet with you.

There's more than an outside chance that he will grow to be a bookie.

Yet Sam is so much more around here. He takes the temperature of the room and he knows whether he should add a little laughter, a touch of aggravation, or his proud swagger of confidence.

Did you know that he is going to be drafted by the Chicago Bulls when he's in the 9th grade? Yep, even better then his favorite player, Rose...they aren't even going to let him finish high school.

He's that good.

Yet the problem is that my beautiful wife and I may never let him go that early. In fact, he's the guy we certainly want to keep hanging out with because Sam is just so much fun to see every minute of every day.

You know, it's funny, but there is so much of Sam that reminds me of my Dad and my brother Jeff. The way he cares. The way he wants you to be happy. The way he teases you when he's beating you at something.

Sam can be summed up all in one little mention.

My buddy Chris, a New York Mets fan, called Sam when the Yanks were eliminated in last years playoffs. Chris had no way of knowing that Sam was real down in the dumps about it, but I don't think it would've mattered...Sam had agitiated Chris all year.

"What happened to your Yankees?" Chris asked.
"Why in the hell would I talk baseball with a Mets fan?" Sam asked.

That's Sam. Our big bowl of sunshine.

Happy Brithday, pal. I'm proud of you and I love you.

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