Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Royals 8 Yankees 5

So I got to the K again, as the Kansas City folks call it.
Wearing my Yankees hat I got a couple of looks...on a day when I was actually counting the number of times I got annoyed.

(It was a social experiment...I got to 22 for the day. Annoyed by drivers, people in airports, the slow rental car guy, men on the job and finally, Yankees pitcher, Michael Pineda, who gave up 3 in the first).

It was a perfect, with the exception of the heat annoying me a little. Sam did his magic and found me a seat that was behind home plate about 5 rows up.

I was closer to the catcher and pitcher than I used to be for some of the boys games.


I also tried the brisket, which set me back 8 bucks, but which I ate like a wolf.

In the 8th inning, with the Royals up 8-1...I had some room to stretch out...and I thought about a whole bunch of things:

1). Baseball is so cool.

There is no forced action. The kiss-cam and the condiment races on the scoreboard notwithstanding, baseball is no frills. Pitch, hit, cheer or groan.

2). I'd never touch the fastball.

Sitting that close offered me even more appreciation of how difficult it would be for the common man to even get a bat on the ball, but with that said:

3). The players aren't gods.

I watched Castro drop everything out of his pockets, groan, get busted by a teammate, and smile. When you follow the game they seem so robotic..."why did he swing at that?"...but they're just boys playing a game. You wonder how they ended up as the royalty of the world as athletes. Yeah, we can't do it, and they're supremely gifted, but in the end, it's the game we played in little league. I was looking at Tex as he got ready to pinch hit with two on and two out and the Yanks down 3 in the 8th. He made about $300 million playing the is that possible?

He hit a slow grounder to 2nd.

4). People are just mad!

In the Midwest there is a whole lot of attention paid to the military. Which is good. Prolonged standing O for the returning vet in the special seats. The Lee Greenwood song in the 5th. The anthem before the game. America the Beautiful in the 7th.

It got folks around me talking about Kapernick.

"He should be lined up in front of a firing squad," the normal looking lady beside me said.


The Yankee pitcher left one inside...the batter scrambled to get out of the way...the fans went crazy:

"Beat the piss out of him!" The guy behind me screamed in my ear.

(He may have over-reacted).

McCann got into the box late in the game...the drunk guy a few rows back obviously had a beef with the Yankees catcher.

"You're fat, McCann. You stand like a girl."

McCann flew out deep and headed back to the dugout. The man scurried to the railing for more.

"Nice hit, you piece of shit!" He screamed.

Then he headed back to his seat, all the while scanning the crowd to see if anyone thought he was cute.

(Why is everyone so mad?)

5). I had a good time.

I don't enjoy leaving parking lots after sporting events, but it was okay. The guy behind me noticed my Yankees cap.

"Lost! No playoffs for you."

"That's okay," I said. "I've seen a lot of winning too. I'm good. Love coming out to the park. We don't have Major League Baseball in Buffalo."

"No football either," the guy said, and his crew laughed.

"Chiefs won it all last year?" I asked.

He laughed.

"Touché," he said.

(I defended the Bills!).

But all that external annoyance aside... was a beautiful night!

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

A Walk Through the Woods

I've actually played golf two weeks in a row.

Last week, Picachu and I struggled... the back wouldn't get loose, feet were numb... Miller was shooting in the low 70's beside me.

But it was still the best part of the week....I just felt cheated because I had waited to play and felt like garbage.

I was intent on stretching, resting and icing the back all week so I could play again.

The weather was picture-perfect. Pops and Mike were ready to roll... we didn't have a 4th so I rode alone.

It gave me plenty of time to look around.

The birds. The grass. Good friends.

I double-bogeyed the first hole.

Double-bogeyed two.

Triple-bogeyed three.


I waited all week for that?

And I took a deep breath, cleared my mind, and thought about being aggravated about blowing it.

It worked really well.

 I just relaxed...

...and played better.

Ignored the back and legs...

"My retirement goal is to join a club, play 9 every day before breakfast."

"That would be perfect," I said.

Not sure that I'll be able to do that...

...but as we drove up 18...

...I thought about how great a morning it had been.

Even Picachu would agree.

Monday, August 29, 2016


I have no idea what it's like to be a black man in America.

I also have no idea how difficult it is to make a hundred million dollars for throwing a ball, or sitting on the bench of a professional football team.

So perhaps that makes me a bit of a nitwit when it comes to talking about Colin Kapernick, the mediocre QB for the San Francisco 49ers.

But we ARE in I can say what I feel!!

Kapernick can make a stand by not standing for the National Anthem.

He's free to do that just as Curt Schilling was free to bash Muslims.

But Schilling got shit-canned and Kapernick has now become public enemy number one.

Free to do it!

And that's where Kapernick's message loses a whole lot of its steam.

What trials and tribulations has he been through?

My youngest Sam, was mystified.

"Was he a slave?" He asked.

"I think he has been free to amass a fortune for tossing a ball," I said.

And of course Kapernick is looking at things in a much more broad sense.

Has there been a widespread conspiracy against the black man here in the United States?

An argument certainly can be made in that direction.

I have a tendency to believe that things have definitely improved over the past 50 years.

The civilized among us understand that there were certainly wrongs that we've tried to right.

The collective "WE".

The ignorant among us still suck.

(Again...I'm not a black man. I feel for anyone who feels left out or forgotten here. I really do).

But I don't believe, unless he follows it up with some sort of intelligent statement on it, that not standing for our National Anthem will help.

And now I think that Kapernick owes us a response.

Help to be the change you want to see.

Arguing about being disrespected is difficult when you're being disrespectful.

I'm sure he knows that he made a whole lot of people hate him.

Will that help?

Maybe it will.

Perhaps there will be an open, honest discussion that will change the mind of the ignorant.

I have my suspicions.

Those of us who have evolved have recognized the need to make continued improvements.

Sadly, some never will.

Kapernick's move may have added fuel to a fire that should've been stamped out a long time ago.

The man is certainly free to say it.

But he brought himself into a fight that he can't win on his own.

And there's one more thing he should have thoroughly considered:

He's done okay here in America.

He truly has.

One final thought to ponder on it though, and I know that most everyone is pissed at Kapernick, but...

...the day we are all forced to stand for the anthem... the day when our freedoms are gone.

That's no good either.

Sunday, August 28, 2016

The Kids Are All Right

Every single day since August 14 one of my kids has reminded me that the Lions were beat at the Jeff Fazzolari Memorial Softball Tourney.

We were beat 6-3 by the team that my boys threw together.

(Chris Miller - Pumba - was the clean-up hitter on that team - but other than that they were all under 25).

Now to be fair - most of the original Lions didn't even play in that game - but whatever:

"Remember when we beat you," is their rallying cry.

And this year was the very first time when I actually considered that we were cooked.

At the trade deadline this year the 27-Time World Champion Greatest Franchise in the History of Organized Sports was cooked too.

The Yankees traded Beltran, Miller (no relation to Pumba), Chapman and begged A-Rod to get the hell out while also announcing that Tex was hanging them up.

Youth Movement!

And a funny thing happened on the way to obscurity!

Cessa and Green started pitching in the rotation.

Torreyes, Judge, Austin and Gary Freaking Sanchez started hitting!

And the Yankees were fun to watch.

Running after and getting balls that are hit in the gap...

...throwing to the infield without the ball hopping in.

Castro and Didi - both about 25 were suddenly the veterans.

"You still watching them?" A bunch of longtime Yankees fans started asking me out on the sites.

"They're still in it!" I answered.

Now that's not to say that I'm not sad, but when I was a kid I once asked my Dad to picture Mantle in his mind:

"Big, strong, runs like a deer." Dad said.

At that time Mantle was a broken-down middle-aged man who was suffering from years and years of hammering the bottle.

But Dad still pictured him as young.

I do the same with Jeter, Bernie and Paul O'Neill.


...our replacements are here.

We have kids to serve as our replacements.

"Remember when you lost?" Jake asked as he passed me in the hall the other day.


I remember when we won too.

Saturday, August 27, 2016

Trouble In Paradise

Larry King is 82 years old. His wife of nearly 20 years, Shawn, is 56.

Word on the street (the Enquirer) is that she (and how many women do you know named, Shawn) has been having a year-long affair and that the marriage has been effectively over since 2010 as they have been in separate bedrooms since that time.


Poor bastard.

First off, every single time I think of Larry King I think of the interview that he did with a woman who had been raped.

She said "We stopped for food, and when we got back in the car he just attacked me. He raped me in the car, and I knew there was no way of getting away."

Larry asked his follow-up question:

"What happened to the food?"

That right there is enough for Larry to be cheated on every single day for the rest of his life. Yet I laugh every time I think of it.

But imagine what he's going through now. He's been married, what, 9 times, and now, at the ripe old age of 82 he's being absolutely publicly humiliated.

(And for the record...separate bedrooms is the perfect set-up).

Of course, the lovely media is lining up to ask him just HOW humiliated he is and despite some pretty damning evidence he is saying that his wife in NOT having an affair.

Why would she?

It just struck me as pathetically sad. The poor guy has to live his life out in the public and at an age when he probably only wishes that he were napping, he's faced with all this.

Isn't that brutal?

But hey, Larry has been counted out before. If the whole thing goes up in flames perhaps he will find love again.

He's worth nearly a billion dollars.

There has to be another love out there for him, right?

I'm thinking he could land an even younger girl next time around.

Someone might hook up with him for a chance at that much cash.

"What happened to the food?"

You know what the poor rape victim being interviewed answered?


"I don't know."

Good luck, old dog.

Hopefully it all works out.

Friday, August 26, 2016

Absolutely Pathetic

I'm out!

Can't take anymore.

Today in election coverage:

Trump called Clinton a bigot and she said he was a racist.

Then he said that she was a liar and she said he was lying when he said that.

He said she doesn't want to talk policy and that black people love him, believe me.

She said black people hate him more than brown people do.

What an absolute shit show.

This is what passes as political discourse?

I mean, I don't know about you, but I am disgusted with all of it.

Who knows what their policies are good for...

...he thinks she's a crook.

....she thinks he steals more than she does.

What the hell happened?

We have never had a political contest like this, have we?

And there are about 75 days to go!

What's next?

Wedgies on the stage?

There needs to be a truce called.

Next idiot to call the other idiot a name is named King idiot of the doofus world.


I'm out!

This is now a political free zone.

Argue your faces off elsewhere.

Clinton or Trump.

(Gotta' go...feeling nauseous).

Thursday, August 25, 2016

Three Hours and Fifty Two Minutes

The greatest entertainer of all-time is back in the United States.

Bruce played for nearly four hours Tuesday night in the swamps of Jersey.

His encore was 8 songs long and included two marathon songs, Jungleland and Rosalita.

That encore had to last for at least an hour. We saw Mellencamp play for 75 minutes one night. Bruce is just getting started 75 minutes in.

And for the uninitiated, Bruce never leaves the stage. His breaks consist of him dunking his head in a tub of water during a sax solo.

What's amazing is that he's 66 years old!

I distinctly recall how I felt the first time I saw Bruce...way back in 1983. I couldn't imagine another performer putting on such a show.

But he beat that effort nearly every single time I saw him after that. Back about 6 years ago I actually had the chance to see Bruce and the band in New Jersey. My brothers Jim and John went to the show with me, and believe it or not, there was one empty seat in the entire arena that night...

...the seat where Jeff was supposed to be.

That night Bruce kept going.

We were tired.

Bruce did a long encore...

...then he asked if we wanted another song.

You know the answer.

Bruce said, "Why not? I live right down the street."

I checked Tuesday nights set list.

He started with New York City Serenade.

That's the song where he sings "Walk Tall, or baby, don't walk at all."

Later in the set he played Santa Claus is Coming to Town."

Sounds like a great show.

And my old friend Cynde' was there.

She sent a review:

"Greatest Show Ever!"

Congrats to all who had the chance to see the greatest entertainer in Rock & Roll.

It's gonna' be awhile before you come down from that high.

Hey, ho, rock and roll, deliver me from nowhere.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Nearly September

They say that the older you get the more time flies.

The Olympics are over. The State Fair is done (missed it again). The softball tourney and pepper party are memories. The Yankees only have 40 games left.

Summer is about cooked.

Went fast!

And it's weird because I did some stuff...I forced myself to golf...and had some good outings and a few where I really suffered.

I tried to get to as many parties as I could, but missed a took a toll. A lot of jobs going made the days short.

Yet there was a moment when it dawned on me that the cold might be coming soon. It's still a ways off, but it does make me sad.

I don't like the winter.

I told the campers that the time was running short at Camp Clifford.

"I'm all paid up until the first day of school," Sam said.

And they certainly had a blast.

But relax!!!

It's not over yet!

We still have about 60 days before it all poops the bed!

Come on, back, hips, legs....

...hold on a little longer...

...there's still time!

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

It's Not Funny to Everyone

When we were kids there weren't any jokes that were off-limits.

I wish I had a dime for every time I heard the joke about Italians that ends with "Dago wop,wop,wop."

I never once laughed at that joke although the non-Italian guys around me were howling.

Of course, growing up I told all the Polish jokes, black jokes and Mexican, German...

...Geez, every kind of joke!

And I knew guys of all those heritages and they listened to my stupidity. Some of them laughed with me, but deep down they must have felt the same way I felt when I heard the Italian joke.

That's not funny.

And now there's a movement out there that says, "We're too politically correct!"

As if not telling racist jokes is a bad move.

Yet I feel that comedians have some freedoms to some extent...not to be mean-spirited, but to tell jokes in the context of a well-written act.

Michael Richards famously showed everyone how NOT to do it.

Yet where it isn't funny at all is in the workplace. Most regular folk don't have the chops to be able to tell such jokes without thoroughly offending others.

I bring this up because there is a lot of tension between all races and nationalities and it's usually because someone thinks they're being funny.

I also read a beautifully written piece by a young black man who spoke of what it ACTUALLY feels like to be a black kid growing up in a mostly white area.

The jokes are told non-stop and the funny man telling the joke always says "Come on, man, you know I'm not a racist!"

The very funny comedian, the late Patrice O'Neal once said "no one has ever admitted to being racist."

And that's mostly definitely true...

...but if you say racist things over and over... might be racist.

Through the years I've always enjoyed looking for the 'funny' in all situations.

I said some dumb things to people who pretended not to acknowledge that there was more stupidity than racism involved.

Politically correct?

I'm not sure where the line should be drawn...'s just that reading it from the black kid...

It made me think.

And thinking might just stop me from being stupid the next time I hear something "funny."

I also must say that I cut myself a little bit of a break because each generation seems to have figured it all out just a little bit more.

We have a long ways to go...

...but at least we are starting to figure out that some of it just isn't funny.

Monday, August 22, 2016

So Tired Of Being Alone

Kathy was on "pick the kids up from Bills game" duty on Saturday night. Sam went with a buddy because Jake had to work, but Jake returned home before it was all over and as soon as Kathy left Jake began talking to me about music.

Our musical tastes don't intersect a whole lot, but being a fan of good writing and talent we can find a mutual ground.

Jake began the discussion by playing a little of the new Frank Ocean for me, and I had to admit that Ocean has a lovely voice and some lyrical talent.

"Where does he rank on your list of male vocalists?" Jake asked.

That is actually an impossible question. I started thinking of my favorite singers.

Of course, Sinatra is "the voice" but even young kids know and accept that.

I went off the board a little.

"How about this?" I asked.

I pulled up a 1972 video of Al Green singing "I'm So Tired of Being Alone."

Jake reacted the same way I had when I heard Green sing that for the first time:

"Oh shit!" He said.

"How's that compared to Frank Ocean?" I asked.

"Oh shit!" He said again.

Our discussion kept moving. We talked about Sinatra and Jagger and Kanye and Eminem. When Kathy returned home nearly an hour later (running kids home) she asked me what I had watched on television.

"Nothing. We were talking music."

Coincidentally it all happened on the very night that the Tragically Hip were playing their final concert ever because their lead singer, and a true poet is dying of brain cancer.

"I don't even know how some of these guys are so good at such a young age," Jake said.

"Talent, work and focus," I said. "Mostly work. If you have a talent you have to bust your ass to make it."

"But when you have a voice like that Green guy..."

"Yeah, that helps," I said.

I remember my talks about music with my Dad. Most of the time he was yelling at me to "Turn that shit down."

But years later there was a tribute show to Sinatra.

Springsteen was one of the invited singers. He did his song and before it even ended my phone rang.

"I was wrong about Bruce," My Dad said. "He's a talented guy."

Music tells us a whole bunch about life.

It bridges the generational gaps.

"Talent rises," I said to Jake.

"I'm gonna' play that song for my friends," he said.

I validated his choice before he left:

"Frank Ocean is good too."

And I actually meant it.

Sunday, August 21, 2016

I Hate Floods

Donald swung by the Louisiana flood scene with some Play-Doh.

First, does anyone know the reason why you'd bring that?

Secondly, I really feel for those people. They've lost everything and anyone who's ever been even in a bit of a flood knows that it's a losing proposition.

We have a driveway that slopes down.

Obviously it's not a single thing like losing your whole life in a flood, but man, when the water filled the finished basement there was a real sense of panic.

And there wasn't much you could do other than get your crap up and off the floor and try to vacuum up the water and then try to get rid of the stink.

We once had a flood here that was absolutely caused by sheer stupidity and my beautiful wife hates when I tell this story.

I was out of town and missed the heavy rain earlier in the day. When I returned home I noticed a couple of things instantly.

1). Said beautiful wife had trimmed the shrubs out front.

2). The above-mentioned shrub trimmings had not been cleaned up.

3). The trimmings had been washed into the driveway drain.

Since the sun was shining I never even thought about the fact that those trimmings could be a problem.

No one was home so I was fired up about making some pasta and catching some baseball.

One step I into the door I knew there wasn't going to be dinner or the Yankees that night.

We were flooded.

Three inches of water filled the entire downstairs area.

"What happened?"

I tried her cell phone and wondered why the pump hadn't worked. The water wasn't pooled by the front door. The pump had to have failed!

I made my way to the outlet.

The extension cord was still plugged in.

I traced it.

You know what was on the other end of the extension cord?


The hedge trimmer.

"How is she gonna' make this my fault?" I asked the ceiling above.

Minutes later, the door swung open.

I was on the business end of the shop vac.

"What did you do?" Kathy asked.

"That's what I'm wondering," I said.

Guess who cleaned up the water?

Saturday, August 20, 2016

I'm So Sorry

Ryan Lochte issued an apology for his missteps in Brazil. He issued it on Instagram and put it all out there for all who want to read it.

Are we all good now?

The suspended football players always put out a polished report that says something along the lines of:

"I didn't really do it, but I'm sorry."

I don't think that anyone is sorry in those situations, but the apology has to be sent out...'s the first step in forgiveness, right?

It's funny but a lot of people struggle to say that they're sorry. I guess that they don't care much for being in the spotlight for doing something dumb and there's pain associated with having to admit that you've totally messed up.

But the polished apology is really kind of insulting right:

The Marcell Dareus apology for being suspended by the NFL for substance abuse was a real reach.

He spoke of how sad he was about letting his teammates down.

He mentioned that it's really all about winning and that he made a mistake that wasn't reflective of his character.

Every single word was put in the exact right order. All of the common buzz words associated with a public relations firm make an appearance.

That certainly takes away from it, right?

Shouldn't the guy who messes up stand right there and take the heat?

Donald said on Thursday night that he has regrets.

No apology, but admitting regrets has to count for something!

I don't have much of a problem saying 'I'm sorry.'

Like the rest of you I've done things that were dumb enough to grovel a little bit. Saying your sorry and really being sorry are two different things, of course, but I have enough Catholic guilt to make me feel bad about so many things...

...things that I didn't even do!

I distinctly recall my first confession in the Catholic Church. I was about 8 years old.

"This is my first confession," I said. "I stole."

The priest was caught off-guard.

"What did you steal?" He asked.

"Salami from the 'fridge," I said.

There was a long pause. I'm wondering if the priest is going to throw me the hell out of the whole religion. He's probably trying to stifle a laugh.

"Are you sorry for what you did?" He finally asked.

"Yes, Father," I replied.

"Did you atone for what you did?"

"I'm not sure," I said.

"Did you return what you stole?" Father asked.

"No. I ate it," I said.

I didn't hear him laugh, but he must have.

I wasn't really sorry.

I should've had someone do a press release for me.

Friday, August 19, 2016

Robbed At Gunpoint

Ryan Lochte may or may not have been robbed at gunpoint in Brazil.

Many aren't believing the story.

Well, as luck might have it, I have a little experience in this regard.

I actually included the story in my wonderful book Dogs On Main Street. 

I swear that every word is true!

I lived in a little rat's nest apartment next to a gas station in the great town of Lackawanna. I still drive by that apartment now and again and try to think back to those days. Marriage has wiped out most of the happiness of living alone.


I barely opened my eyes each morning. I would pull on a shirt and shorts and make my way through the parking lot to the convenience store. I would make my coffee over there and grab the newspapers.

Every Morning.

The guy who worked there was a little lazy about everything. He knew that I'd be there each morning and most of the time we would have our morning conversation as he did his morning duty and I yelled at him about sports through the locked bathroom door.

I would very often just leave my money on the counter (he stopped charging me for coffee after a few months).

Yet, I always warned him about leaving the place unattended as he spent time in that bathroom. He didn't care. I told him that someone was going to rob him blind one day.

"What're they gonna' take? The air fresheners?" He asked.

He was actually a good dude and I based Rolando on him (and my good buddy Pops) in Dogs On Main Street.

Well, one day I walked in and the register was unattended. I was heading for the coffeemaker and yelling for the guy when I heard him actually clear his throat.

He was laying on the floor.

"What the F___?" I asked.

He motioned with his head and I looked up to see a guy wearing a Ronald Reagan Halloween mask. He was holding a clearly plastic gun, but it made me jump nonetheless.

"On the ground," he growled.

I laid down next to my buddy.

"You have any money?" Reagan asked.

"The dollar I left on the counter," I said.

He scooped it up. Then he got the register open. There was less than $10 in the drawer.

Reagan swore. 

Then he scooped up about twenty packs of cigarettes and took every single one of the air fresheners.

"Count to 100 before you get up!" He yelled.

And he was out the door.

I started laughing.

"He took the air fresheners."

"Shut up," he said.

"You know the gun was plastic, right?" I asked.

"It won't be when I tell the story," the guy said. "We were just robbed at gunpoint."

I got my coffee and papers and left.

They were on the house.

Now, unlike Lochte's story...

...some of that is true.

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Gymnastics Suck

Was wandering by the television the other night and noticed the Olympics.

There was a small girl doing a flip and landing on what is known as a horse.

She stuck the landing.

And I got shivers up and down my spine.

Because I thought about gym class.

You remember those classes, right boys?

The gymnasium was wide open, meaning that for the next two weeks there would be no hockey, basketball or baseball.

We would all be flashing our skills on the rings, the horse, and the ropes that we had to try and climb to the roof of the gym.

Thinking back on's all a little crazy to me!

I now walk around job sites and warn grown men about fall hazards in excess of 6' and back then...

...Mr. Ring would chastise us for being a little frightened to make the 20' climb to the ceiling.

I hated every minute of all of it!

First off, the girls were there.

I was deathly afraid of looking like a dork in front of the girls.

I can't spin, jump or balance.

Never could...won't ever be able to do it!

"Fazzolari, you're up!"

Mr. Ring was all business. He knew we all hated every second of the gymnastics routine, but we all had to at least attempt every exercise.

Honestly, can any of you picture me trying to spin through the air and stick the landing on the horse, or balance myself on the freaking parallel bars?

And forget the rope!

I was 6' tall.

I got about 6'4" off the ground before I quit and cried about the rope burn.

And the girls were all in the corner of the gym...

...they could get out of gym class every single time by claiming it wasn't good for them at that particular time...

...and they would gather, and point, and laugh...

At Clifford Lou Retton!

One girl at the Olympics missed her spot and stumbled a bit on the horse.

The crowd groaned.

Then she flipped head over freaking heels, came off the end of the thing, raised her hand in triumph and the announcer moaned about how badly she did.

Can you imagine the groaning crowd if they televised my attempts?

I believe that somewhere there are grown women, thinking back, remembering, Cliff Fuzzy hitting the ground when he tried to grasp the rings and swing through the air.

I missed the mat by inches on that attempt.

Gymnastics suck.

Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Let's Go Buffalo!!!!

A couple of months back the Buffalo Bills Head Coach Rex Ryan (who introduced Trump when he came to town) declared that he was going to make the Bills great again!

He specifically held a press conference to say that the Bills won the off-season!

There was no trophy presented, but let's recap:

1). They lost Mario Williams - the guy that they paid a hundred million for and sold as a savior. They cut him because they had him dropping back in coverage as a pass rushing defensive end.

2). Their star running back Shady - He was involved in a beat-down of cops that was caught on tape in Philly. He got away with it after visiting the D.A. down there. It was all just a misunderstanding. Except for the dude with the fractured skull.

3). They drafted to help the D - The first guy they picked was sliding down the draft boards because everyone was worried about his bad shoulder. The Bills knew that he was good to go on day one. He was doing jumping jacks and his shoulder blew out. He's on IR.

4). The 2nd Round Guy is Gone too! - They'd battle through the loss of their first pick because their second pick was also good to go as a starter in a fierce defense. He was stretching at training camp and blew out his knee. Out for the year!

5). But IK will step in - They famously picked up the guy who punched Geno Smith in the face and was cut by the Jets (remember the building the bully thing?) Certainly he could bridge the gap and help the D.


He was stepped on in the first exhibition game and was deemed as out for the year.

They cut him.

6). At least They Have Dareus! - The morbidly obese dude who was suspended to start last year, who was busted with synthetic weed, who tried to make a drive-thru to a Chinese Restaurant as he dragged raced a teammate, who received a hundred million dollar deal and swore he was all grown facing a suspension of 4 games for substance abuse!

7). But they have Rex's Brother Now Helping Coach the D - Ah yeah, they are the most undisciplined team ever and they hired a guy who ate through his fat band.

Should be fine.

He knows discipline!

8). But they locked up their franchise QB!!

Except he's mediocre!

Should be a great year.

What is the non-playoff streak up to now?

You can count 2016...

...'cause they might finish 3-13.

But...they won the off-season!

It's the curse of the double-murderer on the wall of honor!

Let's Go Buffalo!!!

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Oh Dear Lord!

I didn't swing the bat more than 5 times on Sunday.

I didn't so much as take the field, or even take one step in a run from the batter's box.

Rocco ran for me and Thank God too because he turned a couple of outs into infield singles.

But when 2 a.m. on Monday morning rolled around I was wide awake... horrendous pain.

"You're legs are tighter than a coat of paint," the poor lady who was tasked with massaging those legs said after I worked 12 hours on them on Monday.

It saved me...but two massages in four days is going to put me in the poor house...

...and there was a moment at the softball tourney when I watched my brother, John, who is a year older than me and has always run like a deer...

...score from second on a ground ball to short.

And it wasn't even close!

I had a front seat to watch all the kids play.

Jake has excellent foot speed, like his uncle.

John's daughter, Nicole, can fly.

My other boys...

Matt and Sam... like dump trucks.

Sam might be the slowest young kid that I've ever seen play a sport.

Since I was that age.

But you want to talk about speed?

Popple hit a ball about 300 feet over the outfielder's head.

The outfielder got the ball in slowly...really slowly.

But the best Pops could do was a stand-up triple.

He may actually have more foot speed than me or Sam though.

What was funny was that by Game 3 the Lions were all out in the field.

I glanced at the guys who were not playing.

Me, Jeff Renaldo, John Cataldo, and my brother Jim.

We were on the bench...

...talking about how tired we were.

Which was so odd.

Those guys all seem to be 15 years old to me.

We've played beside one another for years...yelling the same baseball slogans... we were sitting there.

"You couldn't pay me enough money to stand at second base," I said at one point.

"There ain't enough money in the world."

Evidently I'm getting too old and broken down to even watch the game now.

Oh Dear Lord!

Monday, August 15, 2016

Jeff Fazzolari Thunder Road Memorial Softball Tournament 2016

Paulie threw out the first pitch.

The auction was loaded with so many beautiful donations.

Our friends were there, bringing tears to our eyes.

Pops hit a stand-up triple!

We wanted to see him slide.

Rocco never left my side!

He wanted an at-bat.

He hit a single!

Wif made me a snack!

His work each year is amazing!

That's me eating the snack!

It was rancid.

But hey! I won the Ryan LaMarre signed baseball!

The Fuzzy's Thank You!

From the bottom of our hearts!

I say it every year...

...Jeff was a walking celebration.

He loves that this day is possible!

Sunday, August 14, 2016

These Are the Days

I was swinging the hammer to tenderize the flank steak to make the braciole that I was using to stuff my peppers.

And, of course, I thought of my Dad.

He would make braciole about once a month.

It's a lot of work!

But I finished and then I sat down to try it. There were certainly enough similarities to bring Dad to mind again.

Why did he work so hard every week to make the Sunday dinner that was enough to feed us and any and all of our friends?

I thought of the love involved...and it helped me to realize that we live our lives striving for all the good things. Family, friends, togetherness...

...and in the end those that are left behind will take stock in the why you did the things you did.

These are the days.

Despite all the work, all the angst.

What all that results in is that legacy that we leave behind for all who love us.

My days are happening right now!

My children are gathering information.

"Dad worked hard."

"Dad made sure we all had enough to eat, and money in our pockets."

"I was never afraid to go to Dad when I had a problem."

Those are all things I certainly could say about my Dad as he went about living his life. These days, my children can say it about me.

They are important days.

This weekend is also about Jeff as well. His kids are here. Johnny has been at Camp Clifford. He's listened to the stories.

He has formed a legacy in his mind for a Dad who didn't get enough days, but provided us all with enough information to know that it was about love and family and deep friendships.

That's all we are doing here.

Living out our days, as best we can to build something.

I often think about those who live only for themselves and leave behind a legacy of hurt and rage.

I don't think of those people for long.

I'm busy living my days.

Live yours to the fullest.

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Boom Boom Out Go the Lights!

"You might not be able to get your reports written quickly tonight," my beautiful wife said mid-afternoon on Friday.

Now anyone that knows me understands that I hate being thrown off course. In fact, it makes me act like a dope.

"Why?" I asked, figuring that someone had broken something around the house. Camp Clifford is in disrepair at times due to the campers being a tad goofy.

"Someone smashed a pole. Lights are out all over the neighborhood. They're saying they might be on in the late afternoon."

But alas, Pops chimed in and told me that it might be 9 p.m.

That wouldn't work!!!

I had the reports but I also had to make my peppers for the hot pepper contest.

I didn't have time for any of this!!

To top it off, it was close to 90 degrees.

"The air is off. It's like a sauna here," Sam said.

The lights didn't come on in the early afternoon.

"We're gonna' miss A-Rod's last game too."


So, what did we do?

We went to a movie! So we could sit in the air conditioning.

The lights came back on at 9:15.

I wrote 15 reports, stuffed 30 peppers, and caught 3 of 4 A-Rod at-bats.

It all worked out.

But man...where would we be without all the things we're used to.

"The Wi-Fi is back on!" Sam cheered.

Stopping hitting poles in my neighborhood please!

I hate routine changes!

Now to win the pepper party!

Friday, August 12, 2016

Adios A-Rod

So, it wasn't quite as wonderful as A-Rod and the Yankees made it out to be.

Since A-Rod announced that he was leaving the Yankees and would take a coaching position there has been some discussion of his playing time.

You see, A-Rod is 4 homers shy of being one of only 4 that hit 700...(only two did it fairly).

Yet, Alex would like to join Barry Bonds, The Real HR King - Henry Aaron and Babe Ruth.

Except Joe Girardi, the Yankee manager, didn't give two poops about what A-Rod wanted.

He didn't play him at all this week - except for a pinch hit appearance.

You see, Joe is still of the mindset that the Yankees can reach the playoffs. He is managing to win. He doesn't believe that A-Rod at 41 years old gives him the best chance to do that.

A-Rod doesn't want to sit on the bench.

The good feelings are gone.

Yet tonight's game is supposed to be it.

And it's supposed to rain hard.

A-Rod asked Girardi if he could possibly play third in his final game.


Years ago I set the lineup for our softball team.

We always had more than the needed players...

...everyone wanted to play.

Some guys had to sit on the bench.

Including me (despite my supreme athletic abilities).

I always felt awful telling a guy that he had to sit.

Some guys got pissed.

I had the wife of one of the benchers scream at me after a game.

Girardi is in a tough spot.

A-Rod wants one more special day...

...Girardi thinks he should be on the bench.

Should be fun!

I'm thinking that A-Rod does rise up though.

I am predicting a loud ovation for him...

...and I think he hits one out.

Check my prediction tomorrow!

Thursday, August 11, 2016

A Beautiful Day

I left for Kansas City on Sunday night and the flights out were perfect. The seat beside me was empty on each flight. I rented a car...and was in the hotel right at the time I thought I might.

On Monday I heard about Delta having problems. I don't hardly look at my airline tickets so it hardly registered with me that I might still have problems on the return trip on Tuesday evening.

But boy...

...I had problems!

I received a note at about noon on Tuesday. My 2nd flight would be an hour late.

Right about when Donald Trump was insinuating that his opponent be murdered, I received another message.

The delay was now 3 hours. We wouldn't be leaving until 1:15 a.m.


I spent my time in the airport in Detroit, listening to the news recap.

The Trump backers were saying "He was joking, or that's not what he meant to say."

Well, either way, in a land where mass shootings are nearly monthly events, the words spoken can result in tremendous pain.

Ask Gabby Giffords.

But back to me.

At 1 a.m., the nice lady behind the counter apologized. Her saying that she was sorry just meant so much to me that I hardly cared that she was saying that we were going to be leaving at 3:46 a.m.

The lady was so thoughtful that she gave me a blanket that covered 1/4 of my body and excitedly told me that I could sleep on any section of the hard floor that I wanted to.

I actually tried.

But there was a guy driving a floor cleaner around. There were about 20 Asian people talking excitedly about who knows what because I don't understand Chinese. But they must have been happy because they were talking nice and loud.

Good for them.

I read a lot more about Trump and the 2nd amendment.

I considered that his implication had to be the last stupid statement that his party would allow him to defend with the word twist that he so favors.

But the sun brought a bunch of surprises.


I made it home!!


At nearly 52 years old it is extremely difficult to stay up for 28 straight hours.


They're saying that Trump will be able to continue his campaign.

The millions of people who keep hearing hate in his message are just haters.

So there you have it.

A beautiful day.

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

We're Pathetic

Pathetic is one of the words I like.

It really speaks to how bad a situation is.

Hapless, hopeless, pointless.


I was making the long, boring drive from Kansas City to Ankeny, Iowa.

I was a little bored.

Opie & Jim, Howard and Jenny McCarthy's shows were over. So, I went to CNN and listened to Donald Trump make a speech about the economy.

Herein lies the reason why I believe we are pathetic.

Donald was talking about tax reform.

And the candidate isn't important.

What he was trying to say was.

You know who he was selling his speech to?

The hard-working, underpaid people of the middle class and the poor, forgotten folks who have been left behind as they chase the American Dream.

Same old, pathetic speech!

Donald spelled out his plan:

Lower the tax responsibility of the rich.

The reasoning being that if we cut taxes on the wealthy the "good-paying" jobs will be hanging from the trees.

It'll make us great again!


The Wall Street influence is cried about, whined about, argued about and will eventually be worked out!

We will win!!!

Color me skeptical.

Donald's plan is out there.

Hillary will sing a similar tune although she may try and hide the fact that the tax burden will be less on the rich...

...but make no mistake...

...her speech will also be equally pathetic.

And the common dude will pick which slogan works best. The candidates will be picked apart and a decision will be made, and finally... November...

We will go to the polls and decide...

...on the candidate that we find to be...

...the least...


Tuesday, August 9, 2016

Olympic Goals

The athletes are amazing.

They make a commitment to compete for the bronze, silver and gold.

Many of them train day in and day out, month in and month out for years and years.

The only thing I ever committed to on such a grand scale is watching Judge Judy.

They're amazing in their dedication and I admire their feats of strength, speed and matter the sport.

Yet, with all that being said...

...I don't watch the Olympics... all!

I never have.

I can honestly say that the only Olympic events I've ever watched were the 1980 Miracle on Ice and the Dream Team games with Jordan and Bird.

I have no desire to watch Michael Phelps swim.

Or any of them jump, or run, or throw the shot, or anything else.

Does that make me un-American?

Are you watching?

Michael Phelps swimming across the pool was the number one story on Monday's world report.

They interviewed him, showed him with suction cup marks on his back...

...they spoke of his dedication and of his getting back into the pool after so long away.

Phelps took time off to deal with chasing some of his demons away. He had been in rehab. He had a child.

It had been years and years since he hit the water with any thought on competing.

But here he is at 31...

...chasing medals again.

A few years ago I listened as one of the gold medal winners talked about how little they actually won.

The medal doesn't come with a cash prize.

The guaranteed riches just aren't there.

It's a medal around the neck and back home.

But of course, it's about love of country as well.

Jake was watching an Olympic event one year:

"Who you rooting for?" I asked.

"U.S.A.!" He said, a tad confused. "Why? Who are you rooting for?"

It's a good time to get all of us rooting for the country at the same time..., white, yellow, brown, republican and democrat...


Sunday, August 7, 2016

What Might Have Been

A-Rod was on the 2000 Seattle team that won 118 games during the regular season and then lost to the Yankees in 5 in the ALCS.

I didn't much care for him then, but knew that he was a supreme talent.

There was little doubt that he could turn into the greatest player ever.

Everyone also knew that he would also outgrow Seattle and sign a huge money contract somewhere.

But he didn't go to Boston or New York...

...instead he signed down in Texas...

over $250 million dollars!

We all screamed:

No one is worth that!!

Turns out he wasn't.

Texas was finishing near the basement despite the fact that A-Rod was hitting nearly 50 home runs every year.

I still didn't much care for him.

And then the rumors started.

Boston was going to get him.

It was a done deal.

But the commissioner stepped in and said that the money couldn't be deferred in the way that the Suck Sux wanted to do it.

And A-Rod was traded to the Yankees.

I didn't know what to think.

I still didn't like him.

But I decided to root for him when he hit homers.

The Yankees didn't win a championship with him though, and he seemed supremely jealous of Derek Jeter, who didn't seem to care for him.

A-Rod was just too much of a diva.

But all was forgotten in 2009 when they beat the hapless Phillies to win #27. (A-Rod was actually very good in the series).

All right, I guess I could live with him on the team.

And then the steroids.

And the lies.

And wanting to sue MLB.

Listen...there were about 80% of major leaguers cheating, but A-Rod became the poster boy for all that was wrong.

Too bad, I thought. He made his bed.

Then he spent a year on the sidelines.

"Cut him!" I screamed.

I still didn't much care for him.

I kept thinking about what might have been and how a man could ruin his life by never accepting 'good enough.'

But here was where it turned for me:

A-Rod took his medicine.

He showed up in shape.

He started hanging with the children before the game.

He acted human!

I started to like him a little!

Actually like him!

And now his skills are gone.

The Yankees are done with him.

And A-Rod will limp off into the sunset:

Forever being the guy who might have been the greatest player ever.

But he blew it.

Take your half-a-billion and go home... your ticket into Cooperstown to watch Jeter get inducted.

This May Be Disturbing To Some Viewers

I have always sort of cringed whenever someone has blamed the media for their problems.

It's usually just an excuse.

Yet during this presidential fiasco I have been listening to the news a bit more.

It's like not being able to look away from a car crash!

Neither candidate can get through a speech or a rally without being caught in a blatant lie...

...or in saying something epically stupid.

But there certainly is a problem with the reporting of all of it!

And I blame O.J.

Everything is BREAKING NEWS now.

Everything is torn to shreds!

I imagine that back in the old days (when America was great????) the presidential candidates were not so thoroughly vetted.

The guy running for president used to show up...kiss a few babies...and go back into hiding.

The news anchors would show a few photos and say a few things about the candidate...

...and the secrets remained secret.

The dumb things said were repeated and then forgotten.


...the candidate says something dumb.

And the news takes it apart...

...repeats it every ten minutes...

...comments on it...

...and brings on someone who wants to fight about what was or wasn't meant by it.

The candidate then figures out which way the wind blows and decides that he should either fight it...or lie some more about it.

The way that we are electing these "leaders" is pathetic.

The way that the news is being reported is irresponsible at best.

I was listening the other day when the news anchor was interviewing a Trump surrogate about what he had said about Kahn's mother.

(This was a so-called political "expert").

"The Kahn family suffered a great loss, but the war that he died in was because of Obama's and Hillary's failed policies."

Come on now!

That is not even a little true!

But then there is a great deal of shouting as someone who is trying to defend the other side starts spewing something about Trump's wife.

What in the hell are we doing?

The stupid, senseless arguments that can be found on every social media platform... now also on every single news channel.

There was a woman on one of the political shows the other day. (She was on the side of the Democratic candidate).

When it was her turn to talk she stumbled over her first sentence...

...her second sentence...

...and her third sentence.

All three sentences were senseless.

"What an idiot!" I said to the walls of my hotel room.

What a freaking idiot!

One idiot after another.

Every single news show should start with the disclaimer:

This May be Disturbing to Some Viewers.

Saturday, August 6, 2016

Jeff Fazzolari Thunder Road Memorial Softball Tournament!

Every single year I am amazed... the sheer beauty of life.

This week I have been receiving packages in the mail!

I was on the road and asked my usual:

"Did we get any mail?"

(I ask this question because the mail has a way of getting lost in the vortex if I don't).

"You received another package," Kathy said.

A package?

Donations from friends...across the country...who want to help us honor Jeff at the softball tournament!

That's beautiful!

Johnny has been here all week.

He's a beautiful kid.

He is a bit of a joker.

Wonder where that came from?

And there is a buzz around the family...

...because on Sunday August 14 at North Collins Town Park at 11 a.m.

Jeff's friends will gather!

And we will celebrate his life!

It's funny, but each and every day I have a little bit of a conversation with Jeff.

I have learned to smile a bit when I tell him about how it's going.

Next Sunday I will smile all day.

Except when Wif Mathis is making me do tricks for him!

Or when I try to take an at-bat!

We really hope to see you there!

If you've been at past tourneys you know how much fun we all have!

The auction will be great!!

The food will be great!!!

The love and beauty will surround you!

Best Day of the Year!

Friday, August 5, 2016

Mr. Bookman

Do you remember the classic episodes?

About a week ago someone posted a clip of the Bugs Bunny episode where he put the robber in the oven and asked the cop:

"Would I turn the oven on if he was hiding in there?"

"You might rabbit, you might."

And then last night I caught the episode of Jerry losing the library book...

...and Bookman stole the show.

It got me thinking about my other favorite episodes:

The Odd Couple

Hands down...the one where Felix's and Oscar's apartment got robbed and they were tied to chairs...and to pass the time they made funny faces...Klugman had a great face for that episode.


I loved the episodes when Joey moved out on Chandler and Chandler had the goofy roommate who thought that Chandler had slept with his girl. When they teamed up to throw the guy out...

...there were a lot of good ones though.

The Sopranos

There were a million of them!

But when Silvio (Miami Steve) killed Christopher's girlfriend...

...he scared me!!

Breaking Bad

The Fly!

When the fly got into the room and threatened the batch.

The acting was superb.

"Everything is contaminated," Walter says.


Woody's first episode.

Could they survive Coach dying?

Woody was awesome!

They survived!!

King of Queens

The one where Doug won an egg roll eating contest and then went to a play with his wife.

No one played a fat guy better.

And she was a relentless bitch.

Great show and episode!

Family Guy

I could watch this show all's brilliant...but the one where Peter keeps falling down the the R-rated version if you can...


Those are just a few.

What are your favorites???

Bookman tells Jerry that he's a creep for not returning the book.

Larry David...


Thursday, August 4, 2016

One Down

Matt moved out.


He has been gone for long stretches as he went through college, but last night he was packing all his stuff, and moving on down the road.

"Five years later than you wanted," he said as he passed me in the hall.

"Ten, actually," I said.

So now the green and gold Oakland A's room is empty and since it's the biggest of the 3 boys rooms I don't think it'll be vacant for long.

And kids these days are boomerangs anyway.

So you never know, but every parent everywhere has gone through their kid moving out.

I remember moving into my apartment after college. My Dad was dead-set against it.

"Stay here! Save money!! I stuff you with steak and pasta all week long...why are you leaving?"

The reasons are universal.

To be more of an adult.

To come and go as you please.

To have company over without your little brothers making fun.

I get it.

But it's still weird.

And there will be a day... the not too distant future.

When all three of those rooms will be empty.

I remember that about a week after I found my apartment there came a knock at the door.

Dad walked in.

He looked around...not saying anything.

"You want something to drink?" I asked.

It felt weird to ask him if I could help him to something. I'd forever been the one who needed something of him.

"Just looking around," he said.

Dad only stayed a couple of minutes.

He nodded to me, and then left.

"Behave yourself," he said.

And then he called me every day for the next twenty years...

...and asked me if I wanted to come for dinner.

Guess I gotta' take a ride and see where Matt moved to...

...then I gotta' rip the Oakland A's crap off that wall.

Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Not Afraid to Speak His Mind

We've all been around when someone says something out of line... a party, on a date, in church.

Yet there are guidelines, right?

We all adhere to a decorum. We try not to say everything that is on our mind any time that we feel like it, right?

I must admit that I have not always followed the guidelines. I have been asked to speak at a convention in Las Vegas for three years running now...

...this despite the fact that "I don't work clean."

I usually let the crowd know what is coming and after hearing me speak the first time, the fact that they asked me to return again and again let me know that they weren't offended. They've even asked me back already for the upcoming gig.

So...boundaries can be pushed.

But, lately I've been wondering if certain people in the limelight are going too far.

There has to be a filter... least a little one.

A few years back I was asked to attend a sales meeting. I have never been shy about telling people that I hate meetings. But, it wasn't optional.

So I went to the meeting and was bored out of my mind for over an hour.

"We're going to go around the table and after all we've heard I'd like for you to say the first thing that comes to mind."

The owner of the place looked to me first:

"What is on your mind, Cliff?"

"You should have food at these meetings," I said.

The other 40 people laughed.

The owner didn't.

It was my last sales meeting.

Then, a couple of years ago, I was at a meeting where the owner of the Buffalo Sabres floated an idea where he wanted to hang a tarp so the "workers" wouldn't stare at "his players."

"Why don't you have the players bring some donuts over to the poor slobs who are building their dressing room?" I asked.

The rest of the people in the room actually gasped and the acclaimed owner just stared me down.

As I was walking out the door the security guard said:

"Your presence is no longer required at these meetings."

So, I'm the last guy to lecture anyone about decorum, but the political season is a little depressing.

Will it trickle down?

The name-calling?

The hate?

I actually believe that it has already. We haven't even truly noticed the nastiness seeping in...

...but it has.

Saying what is on your mind isn't ALWAYS the worst idea, but day after day and never saying you're wrong...

...that might be.

Especially if we lose all sense of civility or we stop respecting our differences.

Then speaking our mind at every turn might not be the exact right idea.


Tuesday, August 2, 2016

The Long Road

Was thinking about being young.

I lived in San Jose...thought about staying there.

I went to Baltimore...considered hanging out at O's games and becoming a Baltimoron.

Didn't do it.

I also lived in New Haven, Connecticut and really considered staying with the company that I worked with there.

But I took a different road.

The road back home...

...where I met my Waterloo (err...I mean, my beautiful wife).

And then the Camp Clifford Campers came along and the road became steady and straight and the direction became clear.

When I saw that photo I thought of all the chances that we all have to take a different road.

Do we do things because of a pre-arranged plan?

What would have happened had I stayed out in California?

Would there be different Fuzzy kids out there?

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words...

...but sometimes it's worth a hundred thousand words.

I kinda' looked at that photo for awhile.

I feel like I've taken the right road most of the time.

Then I put the photo as my screensaver...

...stay steady on the road ahead.

Monday, August 1, 2016

Getting Young Again

At the 100-game mark of a baseball season... team has been over .500 for 24 years in a row.

Of course it's the 27-Time World Champion Greatest Franchise in the history of Organized American Sports.

But title #28 isn't coming this year.

I now have a couple of months to get used to the idea.

Because last week they dealt pitcher Aroldis Chapman to the Cubs for a group of 19 and 20 year olds.

Then yesterday morning I got a notice that said:

"Andrew Miller traded to the Indians."

For 4 more 19-20 year old kids.

As we ate Sunday pasta, the dopey kids who don't love the Yankees started busting my chops. We spoke of the need to cut bait with two Yankees that my Mom knows.

"They need to get rid of A-Rod and Tex," I said.

And Mom asked why.

"Because they're old. They can't do it anymore."

Mom didn't take the news well.

"All the guys I know are gone."

I felt weird all day!

I don't know how I fee about the Yankees having to start over.

A few years back I played in a softball game.

A ball was popped up to the outfield.

I was at second.

My buddy, who used to run fast was in center.

My immediate thought was that one of us would catch it.

The ball landed between us...

...neither of us getting within 15' of it.

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

"Time is a real bitch," he said.

It's undefeated.

"It's going to be a long time until they're good again," my mother-in-law complained.

I thought back to the 1980's.

I feel weird!

The Yankees don't have a chance to win a championship.

24 years of being very good.

Time waits for no one.

I can only hope the kids are good.

I'll be watching.

All of the Roads

Was listening to Seger Friday. Love this one.                                                             All of the Roads All of the ...