Things I wouldn't have known...

One of my favorite college professors passed away this past weekend. I felt a little crappy considering that, on Monday before I learned of this, I spent a very large chunk of time waxing about how great my life is and how awesome my birthday was when at the very same moment many wonderful people were grieving. Many wonderful people were trying to make sense of something so heavy and unfair. In short, I finished my blog entry, and then surfed around to the other blogs I regularly read, and then I felt like a total jackass.

I only had a couple of classes with Dr. Kelly F. Lowe, but those were some of the best classes I ever had. My main experience of working with him was as a tutor in his well-crafted writing center. I learned a lot working there; not only about working with people, but about writing and about how to make people's writing--including my own--better. Kelly's focus was not on having writing tutors who simply understood grammar and would look at other students' papers and "fix" them. He wanted us to sit down with the students; to actually read the papers and to get them to tell us what they were trying to say. He wanted us to listen, and then to work with the students to help them formulate their writing. As extensions of Kelly, we all tried to help our fellow students become BETTER writers by working WITH them, not talking down TO them.

And, to me, that was Kelly-the-instructor in the briefest of nutshells.


I'm not going to attempt to wax rhapsodic about Kelly's life, as I don't personally feel qualified. Also, I think two of my former college colleagues who were much, much closer to him have done so infinitely much better than I ever could. Thanks, Steve and Athena.

All I really feel qualified--and able--to do to remember Kelly appropriately right now is to give you the list of things I wouldn't have known (about writing, about life, about myself) if I hadn't ever met Dr. Kelly F. Lowe.

• That a heterosexual grown man with a traditionally female name CAN wear pink socks with any outfit, be totally cool with it, not give a fuck what other people think about it, and totally pull it off.


• That no matter how good you think you are at something, you can always get better if you're willing to listen and to try.


• That having an encyclopedic knowledge of pop culture can actually be a useful thing. Countless were the nights in the WC where I would try to be smooth and drop casual pop-culture references into conversations--a practice I still do today, much to the lamenting of my wife--only to have my shit completely blown out of the water.


• That you shouldn't be afraid to make an argument or take a stand. But, if you do so, you HAVE to do your homework, do your research, know what the hell you're talking about, and argue it effectively.


• That Hunter S. Thompson was a bad-ass motherfucker.


• That the professor/student (or boss/employee, if you prefer) relationship truly can be collegial.


• That brevity in writing is the most effective method of being funny. "Get in, make your joke, and get out." I still haven't mastered this one, as you can tell if you read my blog regularly.


• That it's OK to have a beer at BW3's with your former professor/employer when you come back to visit your alma mater. In fact, it should be encouraged.


• And lastly--and I'm going to fumble this one, so bear with me--that college, and more specifically life, shouldn't be about accomplishments. It should be about people, and about making the places you're in better when you leave than they were when you found them.

I could have made my way through school as a Lit major without really ever having worked at being a better writer. And, had I never started working at the Writing Center (and then, by extension, started taking classes with KLowe--much too late in my career, I might add), this would have been my experience. I was well-versed enough in the old "5 paragraph essay" and expository methods from HS that I got my scholarship, got into EH120W as a freshman, and could have written all of my papers and gotten through.

But I wouldn't have really learned anything about writing, and about how to make my writing better. I read the blogs and writings of some of my colleagues from back in those college years, and I know that I still have a long way to go. But I know I probably wouldn't be writing at all anymore if I hadn't worked with Dr. Lowe.

And that's the greatest eulogy I can give the man.

Cheers, Kelly. Cheers.

30th Birthday Weekend: Recap and Scorecard

I can't begin to put into words how amazing this past weekend was, thanks to my lovely wife. It was one of the most humbling, exciting, and fulfilling weekends of my life, and I owe it all to her. Let's try to recap!

Thursday, June 14th

I woke up. I didn't feel any older. I didn't suddenly feel like I was all grown up or anything. I went to work like I do most every day (except I didn't really get a lot of actual "work" done). Some people brought me cards and my boss brought his birthday balloon (he turned 50 the day before) and taped it to my bookshelf in a somewhat humorous display.

Melissa and I had made plans to eat lunch together, which was basically all I had on my docket at the office. She arrived about 12:40, and we went to J. Alexanders. She had this mysterious bag of presents that I wasn't allowed to look in. Little did I know...

We had been planning on going on a trip to South Carolina in mid-July. At least, that's what I thought. So, imagine my surprise when I opened my card and found that, instead, we were going to FREAKING IRELAND that week. I've wanted to go there for about as long as I can remember, and now we're going! And I had absolutely no idea! Also included in the bag-o-mystery: a potato, some Irish Spring body wash, a six-pack of Guinness, some Lucky Charms, an awesome book on things to do in Ireland as well as a copy of McCarthy's Bar, and irish cookies.

So, then, back at the office, we were greeted by well-wishing and apple pie courtesy of my co-workers. I dig apple pie. I basically then bummed around the rest of the afternoon, and headed home... thinking that Melissa had dropped the biggest bomb in her arsenal. Little did I know...

I got home, and who was sitting on our couch but Jason, one of my very best friends. I had no idea he was coming! Tricky woman, she is. We went out, enjoyed some Chile Verde, went to BW's and watched the Cavs suck it up one last time, and proceeded to get hammered (well, I did, anyway). Good times. I also found out during this stretch that another part of my surprise is a trip to Cleveland on Friday to see an Indians game!

Final Score: Trip to Ireland 1, Trip to South Carolina 0, Cavs 0-for-4


Friday, June 15th

The new grill arrived!

My folks thought a new grill would be a nice addition to our patio. And right they were! This thing is huge, and puts out enough heat to apparently melt the siding on my house. I believe that, on Saturday evening, Jason had enough food grilling on this thing at one time to feed 20 people. According to the Lowe's website, it has a "28 burger capacity." When I will be cooking 28 burgers at one time, I'll never know. But it's nice to know that I can!

While I had known the grill was coming, the surprises didn't stop. As mentioned above, Melissa had gotten tickets to Friday night's Tribe game, and so I was assuming it was to be her, Jason, and myself as we drove up to Cleveland Friday afternoon. As we got ready to leave Columbus, Melissa wondered if we might get there in time to go have a beer at the Winking Lizard. Never one to turn down a beer before or during a baseball game, it sounded fine to me. We got to our hotel in Cleveland, set out on foot for the Jake, and when we got to Prospect Street we headed toward the Lizard.

"I don't want to go to the Winking Lizard anymore," said my wife. "I want to go to the Boneyard." Now, had I had any sort of sense about me, I'd have smelled a set-up. The Boneyard is not a place you would ever intentionally want to go. So it was that we walked back to the back, and there were all four of my parents waiting for us.

My dad and step-mother gave me a nice gift card to Golf Galaxy, as I have had my eye on a nice new approach wedge to give me more options for skulling the ball 50 feet past the hole around the green:

Once I can find one of these clubs in-stock, I will be all set to go. And probably will still shoot in the mid-90s. But I will do it with a sweet-ass gap wedge.

We all had a beer, walked over to the game, and had great seats all together on the first base line:


The Tribe dropped a heart-breaker to the Braves, but the fireworks were great and it was just amazing to have everyone there. The nachos, however, got the last laugh. All three of us that ate them were sorely wishing we hadn't by bed time.

Final Score: Char-Broil 28, Dan 6, Braves 5, Indians 4, Nachos 3


Saturday, June 16th

This was to be party day. We'd long been planning a cookout, and at this point I was now officially ready for and expecting any and everything from my wife. Or so I thought. We spent the day cleaning up the house (I cut the grass and cleaned up the bathrooms, Jason was a champ cleaning the patio and raking the grass, and I can't even quantify how much work Melissa did) and getting ready. Jason and I had done the grocery shopping on Friday before traveling north, so everything was stocked.

Guests began to arrive with my mom and step-father at 4:30 or so, and continued on for a few hours. When we reached the top end of the guest count, the grilling began. Grill master Williams (who regaled us with tales of basically burning his eyebrows and eyelashes off as well as burning another grill to the ground) cashed in his grill Karma and did a masterful job. I believe (and he can probably correct me here, since he kept a well-organized list) he had: 12 burgers, 10 brats, and 8 hot dogs all cooking at one time on this grill, and there was still some space left over. Everything was delicious.

I went inside to find that Melissa had blown up a picture of me at what I believe was my 9th birthday blowing out some candles. I couldn't really complain, but it was definitely a shock! There were not one but two cakes (one a Scooby Doo ice cream cake, which is just kick-ass), many many snacks, and good times for everyone.

We also collectively polished off the greater portion of a 24-case of Miller Lite in 16-oz bottles, a 5 liter keg of Heineken, and 12s of Sierra Nevada and Great Lakes sampler packs. In other words, it was ON.

Many thoughtful, thoughtful people gave very nice gifts, including a round of golf at a friend's country club, a Grady Sizemore jersey, a C.C. Sabathia Disco Bobblehead, some Cleveland Indians pajamas (sensing a theme here?), a nice Michigan shirt, and some gift cards for some of my favorite stores. Really, them just being at our house to help celebrate was gift enough for me.

Some stragglers (including my folks, who stayed over) managed to play some Cap-In-The-Hole Challenge as well as Tripoli and Euchre into the wee hours of the night.

Final Score: Burgers 12, Brats 10, Hot Dogs 8, Dan's Liver -15


Overall

In all seriousness, to see so many people do so many nice things for me just because I was born a few years ago is a truly humbling experience. To have my wife go so far above and beyond is truly humbling. I'm very blessed to have her as my wife, and I still can't believe all of the things she did for my birthday. I have plans for hers next year already formulated, but the bar has been set so incredibly high I don't know how I can live up!

I spent a large portion of my early 20's thinking that 30 was a long way off, and thankfully so because it signified the end of youth. I have since realized that age is only a number, and that the important things are the people in your life. I couldn't be more blessed at this point in my life, and when I turned 25 I hadn't even met the most important person I will ever meet yet. So, so what if I'm 30 now? The weekend of my 30th birthday was the best weekend of my life, short of the weekend we got married.

How can that be a bad thing??

It just wasn't our year...

I've been refraining from writing here since the start of the NBA Finals, lest I throw out any unknowing jinxes. Now that these Finals are all but over, it's time to weigh in.

Sorry, dude. Fate was sealed when James made a mid-post pass to Varejao….what Varejao didn’t realize was that he was supposed to give it right back to LeBron….instead he threw up some European hook shit. --e-mail from a co-worker of mine this morning

In complete honesty, I can't be mad at my team; they advanced further than I thought they would, and they ran into a team that is just dominant at the two most important positions on the floor. An ugly Game 3 has all but sealed the Cavs fate, as they played great defense and still lost, 75-72. I'm now officially in "I'm just happy we made it this far" mode, as it is clear there was never any way the Cavs could win this series. They simply were just not ready.

LeBron looks tentative, and frustrated. The Spurs have prepared well for his tendencies (both shooting/driving as well as passing out of double teams). The Cavs are a young team, and it really has been showing in this series. They looked overwhelmed by the weight of the situation they found themselves in during the first two games. They regrouped, played much better defense at home in game 3, but folded under the pressure on offense.

Many are discussing the lack of a call on LeBron during the final shot, but the more I look at the replay I doubt that even if the foul is called that they give him the continuation on the shot, and so he only gets 2 shots with 3 seconds left and no time-outs. The Cavs probably aren't winning. Even if he gets the continuation, what are the odds that he makes 3 free throws?

Lars is upset (and I don't necessarily fault him for it, because fans like to see some backbone from their teams) about the Cavs' lack of overt anger at the officials. One could argue that it's just time for Mike Brown to blow up at the officiating and draw a fine or two. As Harry Doyle once said: "'Bout time... it's eight-nothin'."

Call me a softy, but I find it refreshing that the Cavs aren't making excuses. I get so tired of hearing players whine and whine and whine that it's nice to hear a team simply say, "You know what? We lost." And the Cavs lost. Whether the officiating has been questionable (and it was, definitely, at times during the games in San Antonio) or not, the Cavs still wouldn't be winning this series. They just don't have enough depth, enough offense to answer the Spurs' runs.

And, while I agree there were probably some no-calls in game 3, even still...

The really frustrating thing is that it wasn't the fouls. As much as I dislike a lot of his coaching moves and philosophies, Mike Brown was right: that no-call on LeBron at the end wasn't why they lost last night. If they could shoot better than 35% (they got A LOT of open looks last night; it wasn't like they were forcing things, with the exception of Varejao at the end...) they'd have won. If you had told me that:
1) Duncan would only play 34 minutes because of fouls and only score 14 points;
2) Parker would only score 19 points
3) Ginobili would only score 3 points
4) The Spurs would only score 75 points

I'd have told you we would win by at least 15 points. You can't blame the refs for the fact that NO ONE could make an open jump shot.

Again, I just have to keep telling myself that they got further this year than I thought they would, and that San Antonio is just a juggernaut. The Cavs' core is all 25 and under and they play in a weak conference, so I can hope they'll get another chance for a title run. They learned a lot from last year's playoff loss to Detroit. Here's hoping they've learned a few things about this Finals run that will fuel them next year. Detroit is basically done. Other than the Bulls and maybe the Wizards, who in the Eastern Conference is going to be a contender next year? All things being what they currently are, it's the Cavs' conference to win for the next few years.


All in all, thanks Cavs. It has been a great ride. Game 6 of the ECF was the most fun I've had in a long time watching a sporting event. The city rallied behind you, and you made many people turned off to basketball fans again, myself included. And, you can only get better.

So it goes.

Sweet Merciful Mother of All Things Holy!

It happened!

It actually happened!

A Cleveland team won something!

NBA FINALS!!!

What words are there to describe it?

It was at least 25 minutes later. My jaw still hung open. The only real words I could muster continually were, "Wow," and "I can't believe what I just saw." Later, on the drive home from the sports bar, I truly felt that I had just witnessed something historic. A defining moment in a player's career, and in a franchise's history. I witnessed it. Someday, I can tell my kids about the night LeBron simply picked up his team, strapped it onto his broad shoulders, and willed it to a victory in the most important game the franchise had EVER played.

Windhorst does well to sum it up, but still can't do it complete justice:

Behind the shoe deals, the millions and the criticism was the promise -- the promise of greatness.

LeBron James kept it in historic fashion on a hot and forever memorable Thursday evening in the Eastern Conference finals. Playing perhaps the greatest game of his career in the biggest game in the history of the Cavaliers franchise, James totally, completely and amazingly took the Cavs to a 109-107 double-overtime victory over the Detroit Pistons.
...
James' dominance and sense of purpose was so wide-ranging, detailing all his majestic moves and clutch deliveries is nearly impossible.

That's really only lip-service. Words like: amazing, dominating, transcendent, virtuoso, jaw-dropping, breath-taking, awe-inspiring, defining, UNREAL.... none of these phrases (nor highlight clips on ESPN) could sum up what LeBron James did last night to someone who didn't see it. You truly had to see it to really appreciate it. Even to believe it.

In his blog, Windhorst does a little better at trying to quantify what we saw last night:

I've watched LeBron play roughly 500 games in person from places like Rehobeth Beach, Del., to Sapporo, Japan, to Bakersfield, Calif., to something like 17 times at the Palace of Auburn Hills now. Never have a [sic] seen a performance like that from him and never have I seen him be so calm. He wasn't demonstrative and making all those primal faces, he was just coldly killing the Pistons. It isn't often you know you are experiencing history at the moment it is happening. It doesn't matter which team you cover as a journalist or which team you root for as a fan, there was no way you could watch LeBron score 25 straight points and think you weren't being given a gift of an experience.

A commenter on the "FreeDarko" blog (worth checking out if you love the potential intersection of intellectual discussion and hoops, which I am all of a sudden starting to!) says exactly what I was thinking/feeling: "This really is the reason I love sports. To see will manifest into flesh. It's astonishing that men can do such things."

He was everywhere. He was everything. He single-handedly carried the Cavs to the biggest win in the history of their franchise. The Pistons

simply

COULD

NOT

STOP

HIM.

James scored 48 points in a double-overtime game, including 29 of those points in the final quarter and two overtime periods. He literally scored ALL of his team's points in both overtimes. He scored the last 25 points of the game for the Cavs, and 29 of their last 30 points (the only other being one free-throw by Drew Gooden).

He did it in every way imagineable. He drove. He dunked. He broke people down on the dribble. He nailed runners and sick, cold-blooded fade-aways, each and every one a dagger in the heart of a Pistons team that was trying to match him shot-for-shot. What appeared to be the exclamation point was the just plain filthy three-pointer he made running off of a double team to his left, hoisting the shot while still almost in motion... literally 15 seconds after the Pistons had been handed a three-point lead with 90 seconds to go in double overtime--on a touch foul to Chris Webber, who, even though he'd clearly taken 2.5 steps to get his shot up and was essentially only hand-checked by Z (which fouled him out of the game), got the continuation and the and-1 foul shot.

It was almost as if James decided that it didn't matter what obstacles were put in his way. He was winning this game for his team. The purest definition of "will" that I have ever seen in basketball since the days of Michael Jordan.

James played defense. He rebounded (tied for the team lead with 9). And, with less than 10 seconds in the second overtime and a tied-at-107 score, he stood at the top of the key with the ball under his arm, watched the clock roll down, and then essentially took it straight to the rack on their entire fucking squad. He went up for a layup, displaying amazing strength and body control as he was fouled fairly hard by Jason Maxiell while going up, and still had the ability to softly and easily lay it in with 2.2 seconds to go.

In sports, words like "will" and "determination" and "domination" get used and thrown around sometimes far too often. But what LeBron James did last night defines all of them. This was a game the Cavs HAD to win, purely and simply. And, midway through the fourth quarter, James simply decided that there was no way his team was losing this game... not while he was still in it. Each and every possession, his teammates gave him the ball at the top of the key and simply got out of his way. The Pistons ran everyone and anyone they had at him.

Everyone in the building (and for that matter, in any building with a TV set tuned in to this game) knew he was taking every shot down the stretch and in the overtimes. Everyone in the building knew that the Cavs were hitching their wagon to their superstar. Everyone in the building knew that if the Pistons wanted to win that game, they were going to have to do whatever it took to stop James.

And they still could NOT stop him.

They had no answers.

"This is the single best game I've ever seen at this level in this atmosphere, hands down," Cavs coach Mike Brown said. "I don't know what he can't do."

58 minutes of basketball, three Cavaliers players fouled out... James just seemed to get stronger. As if through sheer will, he slowly wore down the Pistons to the point where they could do nothing but accept their fate that, on this night, there was nothing they could do to stem the tide, to stop the flood.


Pistons fans can argue--rightfully so--that the same thing happened last year. The Cavs lost the first two games only to win three straight (including game 5 in Detroit, again) only to have Detroit come into Cleveland for game 6 and dash the Cavs' hopes. Piston fans will argue that they still haven't played their A-game. Chauncey Billups told us on Wednesday that: "[the Cavs'] A-game is not like our A-game, and we haven't played our A-game yet."

He's right. Even the Pistons on their best night (and last night was by far the best the Pistons' team has played in this series) aren't enough to stop LeBron James when he plays his absolute "A-game". It would be insane to expect the James will do again in game 6 what he did last night, but I'm still waiting for the Pistons to "turn it on" like they have been documented to do so well.

The fact is, this year's teams are completely different from last year's teams. The Pistons are not the same team they were last year. They seem a step slower, less organized, and less fluid as a team. Likewise, the Cavs have so much more confidence, and more players willing to stand up and contribute than they did last season. I don't expect the Pistons simply to roll over and let game 6 go, but I also don't think the Cavs will be as overwhelmed this year as they were last year.

In short, this series is NOT over. But, just the same, for Detroit or its fans simply to rest on the idea that, "hey, the same thing happened last season," would be foolish. The Cavs no longer have the "we're just happy to be here" mentality. James himself said, "[W]e have a goal; we can't dwell on this tonight when we have another game on Saturday. We have got to do our best to try to win that ballgame and get where we wanted to be all year."

Focus. James showed it in the closing moments of game 4. He broke the mold of it in game 5. And, even after what had to be the most physically draining and yet personally gratifying performance of his young career, he still has it. This team isn't just happy to be here. They honestly believe they can win it, and they have a singular goal of trying to win a championship.

It's cliche to say that you can see the Cavs growing up in this series right before our eyes, but it's absolutely true. From the end of game 1 until the end of last night's game, these Cavs have matured. They have learned that they can play with the "big boys" of the East.

Here's hoping they earn the chance on Saturday night to find out if they can play with anyone, and if they truly believe they can win a championship.