Thanks to all my Facebook friends for engaging my curiousity when it comes to the Inland Empire.
First off, full disclosure, most of the newspapers in the area don't use the term "Inland Empire" when writing about their coverage area because no one knows for sure how one would define it. That's why I had to ask folks how they defined it.
The majority of folks who responded to my inquiry said that it is San Bernardino and Riverside counties. If that's the case, that's a pretty big region. Remember both counties stretch out to the state border with Arizona, and S.B. County also goes all the way to the Nevada border. And both contain areas that have their own confusing regional names (the Coachella Valley and High Desert).
My first experience actually working out this way was at the Inland Valley Daily Bulletin, a conveniently made up name that encompassed two separate papers circulation areas (Ontario's Daily Report and Pomona's Progress Bulletin). So it's always given me the impression that the Inland Empire should include the cities in Los Angeles County located east of the 57 Freeway (that's Pomona, Diamond Bar, Claremont, La Verne, San Dimas).
If you're curious, here's Wikipedia's Inland Empire page.
*****
The reason for all this mess was started by my thought that I might finally be able to say I covered a Heisman Trophy finalist with Toby Gerhart's nomination earlier this week (which turned out to be wrong, since I had covered games featuring a Heisman winner in Carson Palmer).
But Gerhart's status also got me thinking about where he would rank among the all-time great athletes to hail from the Inland Empire, and how he could become the first Heisman winner from the region.
But it could be argued by some that the Inland Empire already has one. Or does it? It all depends on how you define it.
You see, Glenn Davis, a running back for Army, won the Heisman Trophy in 1946. That Heisman is sitting inside a trophy case at Bonita High School in La Verne.
Yes, technically still LA County, but part of the Inland Empire? To some, probably. Thus the inquiry.
*****
So, who are some of the best athletes in the history of the Inland Empire? Do you count the High Desert and Coachella Valleys when you consider it? The mountain communities?
I know a few people who would be on the list without argument. You've got NFL Hall of Famers Anthony Munoz (Ontario, which named a community center and park for him) and Ronnie Lott (Eisenhower High in Rialto). Michelle Kwan was considered from Lake Arrowhead. Cheryl Miller (and her former Angel brother) hail from Riverside, as do Dusty Baker and Bobby Bonds. Derek Parra won Olympic medals in speed skating (learning on wheels in San Bernardino). Softball player Leah O'Brien-Amico, who won three gold medals, is from Chino. And there's Diana Taurasi, who played at Don Lugo High in Chino.
There's probably more (obvious ones, I'm sure), but that's all I can get off the top of my head. But some of the others I'm thinking of are from those fringe areas - Mark McGwire spent time at Damien High in La Verne and Jim Edmonds was from Diamond Bar. And while neither may end up in the Hall of Fame, they both had impressive careers in baseball.
And that's not counting anyone who played minor league sports on their way up through the system (major league rehab assignments don't count Manny Ramirez).
All a bit confusing (probably pointless), I know.
*****
Also running through my skull during that time was the names of the best players I ever got to see play as a reporter covering high school (and some JC). Most of the names that popped in were football players because most of the time, that's all we end up covering on regular basis.
So, here they are, in no particular order:
* Chris Draft, Valencia High (Placentia). He was a man in high school, so much so that they called him "Mr. Draft" at Valencia (and it was on the back of his letterman's jacket. He was taller than me and built like a house. He played running back and linebacker for some very good teams at Valencia (still one of the best high school environments in my memories). He went on to play linebacker in the NFL for the Atlanta Falcons.
* Toby Gerhart, Norco. Got to see him play a bunch of times each of his years at Norco (another great high school game environment, probably because it's still a one high school town). He ran over people, could cut and gain yards with the best of them (which, in state history, he is). You knew they were always in a game as long as they could hand the ball off to him (which they did, a lot).
* Carson Palmer, Santa Margarita. I only got a small sample size with him, but what I saw was pretty good. My greatest memory of him playing was sitting in the press box and seeing the offense come out with an empty backfield, five wide and Palmer in the shotgun. I said aloud (to no one in particular) that the play was going to be a quarterback draw. And a couple of seconds later, I was proven right.
* Reuben Droughns, Anaheim. Just a fabulous runner. He was one more dependant on hitting his holes and outrunning you, rather than the power of a Gerhart or Draft. He was on pace to set the Orange County record for career rushing yards, but got sidetracked by a suspension at the start of his senior year (he and some friends allegedly took part in a prank the night of the previous graduation).
* Garrett Sabol, Kennedy (La Palma). The only name on this list who you've probably never heard of. He wasn't the biggest player or the fastest, but man did he make up for it with his ability to be in the right place at the right time. And he hit as hard as anyone I've ever seen. Anyone who came up the middle with him at linebacker or safety was just asking for him to hit you. He went to Oregon and I found this tackle on YouTube.
After that, I saw plenty of solid Division I basketball players (boys and girls), plenty of pro prospects in baseball (I saw Steve Trachsel pitch while I was at Fullerton JC) and lots of great softball pitchers.
*****
So, with that, I'll wrap things up. Like I said in the title, it's a bit of randomness. But I needed to write something to help clear my head. And since I've been on a bit of break, I figured it'd be a good few topics to maybe get myself going again.
Have a good holiday season.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Just Play Ball, already
I've always been under the belief that you shouldn't write angry.
So, I cooled off for a couple of hours before I started writing this.
I know it's been a while, and I'll probably tell you why some other time, but not today. I have something else important to say:
Nine-inning baseball games should not take four hours.
OK, sure, the official time of game for Wednesday's National League Division Series game between the Dodgers and Cardinals clocked in at less - six minutes less. But even that was too long.
Everyone knows how much of a sports fan I am. I tend to watch what I can, when I can. And baseball still is an important game to follow. But, man, Major League Baseball, you're losing fans with this.
They'll point at their TV partners, who want to suck all the drama and ratings they can out of the game. And, yeah, they'll be right to a degree. But looking over sporadically at the game Wednesday night, and it wasn't just TBS slowing things down. It was everyone. The players, the coaches, the managers. Everyone.
There is a rule in the books to speed up play, but it's never enforced. Oh, maybe once a season you hear about it. But this is the playoffs, and everyone has to jockey for every little last advantage they can. Even if it means a parade of relievers.
I was skulking around the office bitching about the slowness of the game - because me going home depends on when that game gets over and our photographer can send in his photos for a gallery. "This is why I love hockey. There games don't take forever," I said to everyone and no one in particular.
One person, another hockey fan, disagreed. And I realized he was right. Because they can have marathon games in the Stanley Cup Playoffs. But when they play a marathon, it can be over at any second. You're in overtime, and there's nothing like overtime playoff hockey. They can play the equivalent of two games and you'll be on the edge of your seat. And it will still only take, what, four and a half hours?
But baseball, you still have to reach that ninth inning. With the pitching changes and the batters adjusting themselves and the throws over to first and the missed signs and the ...
If you're playing in extra innings, I give you a pass. Then it's all or nothing. You're playing to win the game. That Detroit-Minnesota game on Tuesday was great. It had action. Something that happened in short spurts in between all the adjusting on Wednesday at Chavez Ravine.
OK, I'll admit, I really didn't watch much of the game. The TV's in the office aren't close enough or at a good enough angle that I have a good view. It might have been very exciting.
And what fixes do I have? None that will be enforced. Unless someone goes ahead and puts a pitch clock up where the umpires and fans and players can see it. Make it like the shot clock in basketball or play clock in football. When everyone sees the clock, then maybe people will move it along. (They had one in the Olympics, but it really didn't help those games either, but you didn't exactly have major leaguers, either.)
That's it. I'll step off my soapbox now. Have a good day. And let's hope the Angels and Red Sox can move their game along tonight.
So, I cooled off for a couple of hours before I started writing this.
I know it's been a while, and I'll probably tell you why some other time, but not today. I have something else important to say:
Nine-inning baseball games should not take four hours.
OK, sure, the official time of game for Wednesday's National League Division Series game between the Dodgers and Cardinals clocked in at less - six minutes less. But even that was too long.
Everyone knows how much of a sports fan I am. I tend to watch what I can, when I can. And baseball still is an important game to follow. But, man, Major League Baseball, you're losing fans with this.
They'll point at their TV partners, who want to suck all the drama and ratings they can out of the game. And, yeah, they'll be right to a degree. But looking over sporadically at the game Wednesday night, and it wasn't just TBS slowing things down. It was everyone. The players, the coaches, the managers. Everyone.
There is a rule in the books to speed up play, but it's never enforced. Oh, maybe once a season you hear about it. But this is the playoffs, and everyone has to jockey for every little last advantage they can. Even if it means a parade of relievers.
I was skulking around the office bitching about the slowness of the game - because me going home depends on when that game gets over and our photographer can send in his photos for a gallery. "This is why I love hockey. There games don't take forever," I said to everyone and no one in particular.
One person, another hockey fan, disagreed. And I realized he was right. Because they can have marathon games in the Stanley Cup Playoffs. But when they play a marathon, it can be over at any second. You're in overtime, and there's nothing like overtime playoff hockey. They can play the equivalent of two games and you'll be on the edge of your seat. And it will still only take, what, four and a half hours?
But baseball, you still have to reach that ninth inning. With the pitching changes and the batters adjusting themselves and the throws over to first and the missed signs and the ...
If you're playing in extra innings, I give you a pass. Then it's all or nothing. You're playing to win the game. That Detroit-Minnesota game on Tuesday was great. It had action. Something that happened in short spurts in between all the adjusting on Wednesday at Chavez Ravine.
OK, I'll admit, I really didn't watch much of the game. The TV's in the office aren't close enough or at a good enough angle that I have a good view. It might have been very exciting.
And what fixes do I have? None that will be enforced. Unless someone goes ahead and puts a pitch clock up where the umpires and fans and players can see it. Make it like the shot clock in basketball or play clock in football. When everyone sees the clock, then maybe people will move it along. (They had one in the Olympics, but it really didn't help those games either, but you didn't exactly have major leaguers, either.)
That's it. I'll step off my soapbox now. Have a good day. And let's hope the Angels and Red Sox can move their game along tonight.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Get comfy in your couch, Fall has (nearly) arrived
Labor Day has passed, and it's time to start thinking about Fall.
Although, in SoCal, you tend not to notice the seasons passing as they do in the rest of the country. We tend to see things in more practical ways. You know, we're in Fire Season now, and soon it will be Flood Season. It's pretty much always Crime Season.
Anyway ...
But more than a change of seasons, Fall ushers in many important things in many of our lives. Mostly, more time in front of the television.
You see, pro football season and the Fall TV season are underway. The NFL kicked off Thursday, while new shows have started popping up across the dial. It's a couch potato's dream.
And the two do come at a time when the weather is starting to get a little cooler and the days are getting shorter. Who needs that pesky fresh air, anyway?
For me, football season really signifies one thing: Fantasy Football season. It's really the only reason I still pay close attention to the game ... I've got a stake in it.
Seriously. I could care less who wins the games each week, as long as my players do well enough for me to win each week, I'm happy. Even when we had our friendly competitions at the Bulletin, the wins in the league only mattered when they lined up with my choices.
I know that makes me a bad fan. You're not supposed to root for players - you're supposed to root for teams. But I just can't any more. I don't have a big screen TV with a dish to watch every game on every Sunday. Heck, I'm not even home on Sundays even if I did. Nor will I ever see myself shelling out the money to do so.
Sure, football is still entertaining, and you never know what will happen on any given Sunday (see Cincy-Denver this past week). But for the most part, football has become an overproduced, TV run event. The amount of actual sport that goes on in the 60 minute game (spread over three hours) is probably in the neighborhood of 20 to 25 minutes of game time. So, the other two-and-a-half hours is filled with talking, commercials, replays and standing around.
Meanwhile, with the Fall TV season, you expect overproduced fare to be hitting the airwaves. In fact, any new show that isn't overproduced probably wouldn't be making it onto a Fall schedule (especially at NBC).
I try each year to be at least informed enough about the new shows not to make snap judgments about each, and write them off before they've evened aired. But thanks to the Internet, I've actually gotten to see one new show before it debuts.
That show is "Modern Family," a new "documentary style" comedy that will be on ABC, and I'm happy to say that it was as funny as promised by many of the critics who saw it way back in May.
But, unfortunately, I don't expect to survive. Why?
Well, first it's going to be up against "Glee" on the schedule out of the gate. And most of the hipsters and buzz generators will be watching that. The teens and young girls will be over at the CW, watching back-to-back glamour with "America's Next Top Model" and "The Beautiful Life" and CBS will probably have some crime show that will trump them all (and no one cares about NBC, since Leno's going to be on in an hour anyway).
Second, sadly, was a critique by a commenter on the message board provided with the show. I can't quote it verbatim, but it was something to the effect of "When will you people learn we're still not comfortable seeing the gays."
The show is centered around three generations of one family. You've got the divorced father, who's remarried a hot and feisty Colombian half his age (and she has a 11-year-old who could be best described as Bobby Hill from "King of the Hill"). There's his daughter, who is married with three kids (15, 12ish and 10ish). And his son, who's been in a five-year relationship with his boyfriend, and just adopted a child.
The writing was first-rate and the acting was spot on. They've even got the a "big named" guest star lined up for later in the season. But we're still having that conversation.
It seems to me that unless they're queeny to the point of ridiculousness, or making your clothes on "Project Runway," middle America can't take a portrayal of a gay person. Why not? What's wrong with an honest portrayal of what life is for 95 percent of the committed couples who would love nothing more than to be treated just like the rest of us straight folk?
The show played everything as real as a television show might (though, the 10-year-old's punishment for shooting his 12-year-old sister with a BB gun was for his father to shoot him).
I hope you get the chance to check it out a couple of Wednesdays from now, and really hope ABC gives it a long leash with room to grow.
Although, in SoCal, you tend not to notice the seasons passing as they do in the rest of the country. We tend to see things in more practical ways. You know, we're in Fire Season now, and soon it will be Flood Season. It's pretty much always Crime Season.
Anyway ...
But more than a change of seasons, Fall ushers in many important things in many of our lives. Mostly, more time in front of the television.
You see, pro football season and the Fall TV season are underway. The NFL kicked off Thursday, while new shows have started popping up across the dial. It's a couch potato's dream.
And the two do come at a time when the weather is starting to get a little cooler and the days are getting shorter. Who needs that pesky fresh air, anyway?
For me, football season really signifies one thing: Fantasy Football season. It's really the only reason I still pay close attention to the game ... I've got a stake in it.
Seriously. I could care less who wins the games each week, as long as my players do well enough for me to win each week, I'm happy. Even when we had our friendly competitions at the Bulletin, the wins in the league only mattered when they lined up with my choices.
I know that makes me a bad fan. You're not supposed to root for players - you're supposed to root for teams. But I just can't any more. I don't have a big screen TV with a dish to watch every game on every Sunday. Heck, I'm not even home on Sundays even if I did. Nor will I ever see myself shelling out the money to do so.
Sure, football is still entertaining, and you never know what will happen on any given Sunday (see Cincy-Denver this past week). But for the most part, football has become an overproduced, TV run event. The amount of actual sport that goes on in the 60 minute game (spread over three hours) is probably in the neighborhood of 20 to 25 minutes of game time. So, the other two-and-a-half hours is filled with talking, commercials, replays and standing around.
Meanwhile, with the Fall TV season, you expect overproduced fare to be hitting the airwaves. In fact, any new show that isn't overproduced probably wouldn't be making it onto a Fall schedule (especially at NBC).
I try each year to be at least informed enough about the new shows not to make snap judgments about each, and write them off before they've evened aired. But thanks to the Internet, I've actually gotten to see one new show before it debuts.
That show is "Modern Family," a new "documentary style" comedy that will be on ABC, and I'm happy to say that it was as funny as promised by many of the critics who saw it way back in May.
But, unfortunately, I don't expect to survive. Why?
Well, first it's going to be up against "Glee" on the schedule out of the gate. And most of the hipsters and buzz generators will be watching that. The teens and young girls will be over at the CW, watching back-to-back glamour with "America's Next Top Model" and "The Beautiful Life" and CBS will probably have some crime show that will trump them all (and no one cares about NBC, since Leno's going to be on in an hour anyway).
Second, sadly, was a critique by a commenter on the message board provided with the show. I can't quote it verbatim, but it was something to the effect of "When will you people learn we're still not comfortable seeing the gays."
The show is centered around three generations of one family. You've got the divorced father, who's remarried a hot and feisty Colombian half his age (and she has a 11-year-old who could be best described as Bobby Hill from "King of the Hill"). There's his daughter, who is married with three kids (15, 12ish and 10ish). And his son, who's been in a five-year relationship with his boyfriend, and just adopted a child.
The writing was first-rate and the acting was spot on. They've even got the a "big named" guest star lined up for later in the season. But we're still having that conversation.
It seems to me that unless they're queeny to the point of ridiculousness, or making your clothes on "Project Runway," middle America can't take a portrayal of a gay person. Why not? What's wrong with an honest portrayal of what life is for 95 percent of the committed couples who would love nothing more than to be treated just like the rest of us straight folk?
The show played everything as real as a television show might (though, the 10-year-old's punishment for shooting his 12-year-old sister with a BB gun was for his father to shoot him).
I hope you get the chance to check it out a couple of Wednesdays from now, and really hope ABC gives it a long leash with room to grow.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
One thought, one story
HAIL TO THE CHIEF: So, President Obama spoke to the children of America and ... nothing happened.
The republic is the same as it had been before he spoke. Students didn't revolt. No one was "indoctrinated."
What was the big deal again?
You know, I understand why people were making a fuss. A new president, who's shaking up the status quo with a contentious plan during the worse financial crisis in many of our lives, decided to talk to the children of the country. Obviously, he was trying to earn their support for health care.
Of course he wasn't. That would have been absolute political suicide.
Seems to me, he was just looking to talk to the youth of America like he would talk to his own kids. Strive hard, reach high and one day you'll be able to achieve any goal you want ... even be, dare I say, President.
What's wrong with that? Shouldn't every President strive to inspire the youth of America?
And lets face the truth: Even if President Obama went to the youth of America with his health care message, it would have flown right over the elementary school students' heads, the junior high students would have ignored it and the high schoolers woulda called bull****.
When you're a young student, the President is the "king." He's the one who can do whatever he wants. You may make campaign promises about putting Coke in the water fountains, but he'd be the one who could really do it.
And it didn't matter who it was. Reagan was the President for most of my formative school years, and as far as I was concerned, he was the greatest ever. And the day he was shot (I was in fourth grade) was one that our teachers made known was a national tragedy. In fact, the teacher was practically crying because someone would do that to America.
But as you get older, you start to realize more about the office than "He's the President and he can do no wrong." You start to build your own opinions about how things should - could - go in the country.
It's not until you've reached college that you "get" it. You realized that the eight years Reagan was in charge weren't as hunky-dory as you thought they were while you were in school. Or that Clinton was lying when he said he "didn't inhale." Sure he didn't ...
It's something I've thought about often since becoming a parent. How would I react about the President around my son, especially if I thought he was a grade-A moron?
The conclusion I always come to is that no matter what I think of the man, or his policies, he is the President. He was selected to take office by the laws of the country (by the way, thanks for those eight years, electoral collage). And as such, he deserves the respect of the office.
In other words, don't take away a piece of your kids' innocence by demonizing the person or the office. They'll learn it on their own.
KING ME: So, I've been away for a little bit. Been busy. Generally not a whole lot to write about.
Well, except for Hockeyfest.
If you were following along on Facebook, or you've been around me at all in the last couple of weeks, then you'll know we had a great time. Got four autographs, some cool pictures and had a good time riding the train (except for all the bags we were carrying at the event).
But the big story was trying to see if we could get Luc Robitaille. And boy did we.
We were waiting in line for the autograph session with Anze Kopitar and Teddy Purcell, and we knew that baby Luc's diaper was stinky. Ripe would be a good word. So, we're in this tent on top of a parking structure looking to find a place to change him.
I grabbed the diaper bag while Gina held our spot in line. I looked around and found a nice, quiet, out-of-the-way spot to get him cleaned up before we went up to meet the two players.
It was this bench over by the edge of the tent. No one during our time there had anyone walked along there. So, I get Luc lied down on the bench and start struggling to get him undressed to take care of the business at hand. Shoes, off. Shorts, off. Clean diaper and wipes out and ready.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see people walking toward me from my left. They're climbing over the similar benches that are placed on the other end of the walkway and heading straight toward me. Five or six people. "Great," I'm thinking, "I'm going to have my son's dirty ass hanging out as these people walk by."
I keep looking, and I realize I recognize one of the people walking toward us. "F'ing A, it's Luc Robitaille."
Yes, that's my luck.
With his group (not sure if it was people chasing him or people with him), they came toward us, and stepped up on the benches to walk to their destination. I looked up and said "Hi, Luc," and he looked down, smiled and said "Hi." I woulda paid anything to know what was running through his mind as he looked down at that scene.
Couldn't get anything else out, cause he was movin'. He winged past Gina, who called to tell me about the Luc sighting (I didn't hear the phone, and didn't answer). So, I continued what I was doing and started getting my son dressed.
Got his shorts up, getting ready to get his shoes, and looked to my right, and here comes Robitaille again. No one in tow this time. I say, "Luc, can we get a picture?" He's in a hurry. He takes the time to turn and say that he can't right now because he's needed over at the Nokia Theater for another part of the program, but to come over there and track him down.
So, we get through the autograph session, and decide we've had enough of the tent, let's go over to the Nokia. And as we round the corner for the front, there he is, outside talking on his cell phone. He walked inside, as did we, and he was still there, talking on his phone. And being polite people, we left him alone. He was still outside the main theater when we went in to hear some of the NHL Experts Panel, but gone when we left.
So, no picture. No autograph. But one helluva story.
Maybe he'll come out to Ontario next week for the preseason game. We can only hope.
The republic is the same as it had been before he spoke. Students didn't revolt. No one was "indoctrinated."
What was the big deal again?
You know, I understand why people were making a fuss. A new president, who's shaking up the status quo with a contentious plan during the worse financial crisis in many of our lives, decided to talk to the children of the country. Obviously, he was trying to earn their support for health care.
Of course he wasn't. That would have been absolute political suicide.
Seems to me, he was just looking to talk to the youth of America like he would talk to his own kids. Strive hard, reach high and one day you'll be able to achieve any goal you want ... even be, dare I say, President.
What's wrong with that? Shouldn't every President strive to inspire the youth of America?
And lets face the truth: Even if President Obama went to the youth of America with his health care message, it would have flown right over the elementary school students' heads, the junior high students would have ignored it and the high schoolers woulda called bull****.
When you're a young student, the President is the "king." He's the one who can do whatever he wants. You may make campaign promises about putting Coke in the water fountains, but he'd be the one who could really do it.
And it didn't matter who it was. Reagan was the President for most of my formative school years, and as far as I was concerned, he was the greatest ever. And the day he was shot (I was in fourth grade) was one that our teachers made known was a national tragedy. In fact, the teacher was practically crying because someone would do that to America.
But as you get older, you start to realize more about the office than "He's the President and he can do no wrong." You start to build your own opinions about how things should - could - go in the country.
It's not until you've reached college that you "get" it. You realized that the eight years Reagan was in charge weren't as hunky-dory as you thought they were while you were in school. Or that Clinton was lying when he said he "didn't inhale." Sure he didn't ...
It's something I've thought about often since becoming a parent. How would I react about the President around my son, especially if I thought he was a grade-A moron?
The conclusion I always come to is that no matter what I think of the man, or his policies, he is the President. He was selected to take office by the laws of the country (by the way, thanks for those eight years, electoral collage). And as such, he deserves the respect of the office.
In other words, don't take away a piece of your kids' innocence by demonizing the person or the office. They'll learn it on their own.
KING ME: So, I've been away for a little bit. Been busy. Generally not a whole lot to write about.
Well, except for Hockeyfest.
If you were following along on Facebook, or you've been around me at all in the last couple of weeks, then you'll know we had a great time. Got four autographs, some cool pictures and had a good time riding the train (except for all the bags we were carrying at the event).
But the big story was trying to see if we could get Luc Robitaille. And boy did we.
We were waiting in line for the autograph session with Anze Kopitar and Teddy Purcell, and we knew that baby Luc's diaper was stinky. Ripe would be a good word. So, we're in this tent on top of a parking structure looking to find a place to change him.
I grabbed the diaper bag while Gina held our spot in line. I looked around and found a nice, quiet, out-of-the-way spot to get him cleaned up before we went up to meet the two players.
It was this bench over by the edge of the tent. No one during our time there had anyone walked along there. So, I get Luc lied down on the bench and start struggling to get him undressed to take care of the business at hand. Shoes, off. Shorts, off. Clean diaper and wipes out and ready.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see people walking toward me from my left. They're climbing over the similar benches that are placed on the other end of the walkway and heading straight toward me. Five or six people. "Great," I'm thinking, "I'm going to have my son's dirty ass hanging out as these people walk by."
I keep looking, and I realize I recognize one of the people walking toward us. "F'ing A, it's Luc Robitaille."
Yes, that's my luck.
With his group (not sure if it was people chasing him or people with him), they came toward us, and stepped up on the benches to walk to their destination. I looked up and said "Hi, Luc," and he looked down, smiled and said "Hi." I woulda paid anything to know what was running through his mind as he looked down at that scene.
Couldn't get anything else out, cause he was movin'. He winged past Gina, who called to tell me about the Luc sighting (I didn't hear the phone, and didn't answer). So, I continued what I was doing and started getting my son dressed.
Got his shorts up, getting ready to get his shoes, and looked to my right, and here comes Robitaille again. No one in tow this time. I say, "Luc, can we get a picture?" He's in a hurry. He takes the time to turn and say that he can't right now because he's needed over at the Nokia Theater for another part of the program, but to come over there and track him down.
So, we get through the autograph session, and decide we've had enough of the tent, let's go over to the Nokia. And as we round the corner for the front, there he is, outside talking on his cell phone. He walked inside, as did we, and he was still there, talking on his phone. And being polite people, we left him alone. He was still outside the main theater when we went in to hear some of the NHL Experts Panel, but gone when we left.
So, no picture. No autograph. But one helluva story.
Maybe he'll come out to Ontario next week for the preseason game. We can only hope.
Monday, August 24, 2009
People I Hate (one in an occasional series)
As the title suggests, there have been people raising my ire lately, and the great thing about "people" is that I don't know them and feel free to complain about their stupidity.
One such group that caught my attention recently was people who are neighbors to a high school who started complaining about the band practicing in the morning.
We all went to high school. We all had friends in the band. And we all heard the stories of the early hours and long days they put in for their craft. ("This one time, at band camp ...")
So, with school starting again, so was the band, out on the fields at 6:30 in the morning. That is until the neighbors called the city and complained about the band violating the city's noise ordinance. Now, they have to start at 7 a.m.
It's these kind of people, who move into a neighborhood, full well knowing there's something next door that will cause them some level of discomfort, and still complain, that drive me nuts. It's like the neighbors who got the Pacific Amphitheater at the Orange County Fairgrounds shut down because the noise of the concerts was too much.
Um, duh, dumbass. You moved in next door to the Orange County Fairgrounds. You think it was going to be a quiet little neighborhood? Oh, hey, by the way, you know you're right near John Wayne Airport, too, right? Where big jet planes are going to be flying over, rattling your house in the process?
I'm afraid that one day, somewhere in the future, people who moved into the homes along Interstate 15 out near the Glen Helen Pavilion are going to start complaining about the noise from the concerts at the facility that was there YEARS before their houses were built.
It's the whole "not-in-my-back-yard" syndrome (better known as NIMBY). The state of California is in the middle of a crisis with its prisons, and probably could use more ... but not in anyone's back yard (even if the back yard is 5 miles away). But we can't have early release, either.
Even worse to me is that the main complaintant has lived there for years. If the only problem you've ever had with the school is the band practicing in the morning, consider yourself lucky.
My parents' house is a mile from Loara. On most mornings, I could hear our band clearly practicing from our front yard. I can only imagine how it was for the people in the houses directly behind the school. Or how many soccer balls we lost in the back yards of the houses that were right up against our fields (might've been a few softballs, too). And how much trash and damage was left behind by the houses back by the gate by the football fields by visiting fans (or our own students). And that's not taking into account houses being toilet papered, cars being egged or the occasional "war" in the streets or extreme senior court trashing (I'm talking to you class of '88).
The worst part of the story to me was that some of the people didn't want them practicing in the morning at all. The person we talked to even went as far to complain on behalf of those who work nights or have small children.
First off, if you're the parent of a small child, you're already sleep deprived. The music might even help. And second, as someone who's worked nights exclusively for going on 10 years, the world is not built for us who work late into the evening (or overnight). You learn to sleep through the annoyances that are going on around you. You know, things like doors slamming, children screaming, car alarms going off ... sunrise.
Being a renter, I've come to deal with some realities. One such is that the landscaping crew will be outside your window every week making a racket no matter what time you get in bed. We had a one such group who started at 7 a.m. every week during the summer without fail. And when you work until midnight and go to sleep at 1:30 a.m., it's a pain. But there's nothing you can do about it - you deal with it. And I've lived near train tracks that were right next door to an airport.
So, "people," suck it up already. You'd rather the students not be in the band? Out on the streets with no extracurricular activities? Because I'm sure that can be arranged, too. And then you can complain about those damn kids being on your lawn.
One such group that caught my attention recently was people who are neighbors to a high school who started complaining about the band practicing in the morning.
We all went to high school. We all had friends in the band. And we all heard the stories of the early hours and long days they put in for their craft. ("This one time, at band camp ...")
So, with school starting again, so was the band, out on the fields at 6:30 in the morning. That is until the neighbors called the city and complained about the band violating the city's noise ordinance. Now, they have to start at 7 a.m.
It's these kind of people, who move into a neighborhood, full well knowing there's something next door that will cause them some level of discomfort, and still complain, that drive me nuts. It's like the neighbors who got the Pacific Amphitheater at the Orange County Fairgrounds shut down because the noise of the concerts was too much.
Um, duh, dumbass. You moved in next door to the Orange County Fairgrounds. You think it was going to be a quiet little neighborhood? Oh, hey, by the way, you know you're right near John Wayne Airport, too, right? Where big jet planes are going to be flying over, rattling your house in the process?
I'm afraid that one day, somewhere in the future, people who moved into the homes along Interstate 15 out near the Glen Helen Pavilion are going to start complaining about the noise from the concerts at the facility that was there YEARS before their houses were built.
It's the whole "not-in-my-back-yard" syndrome (better known as NIMBY). The state of California is in the middle of a crisis with its prisons, and probably could use more ... but not in anyone's back yard (even if the back yard is 5 miles away). But we can't have early release, either.
Even worse to me is that the main complaintant has lived there for years. If the only problem you've ever had with the school is the band practicing in the morning, consider yourself lucky.
My parents' house is a mile from Loara. On most mornings, I could hear our band clearly practicing from our front yard. I can only imagine how it was for the people in the houses directly behind the school. Or how many soccer balls we lost in the back yards of the houses that were right up against our fields (might've been a few softballs, too). And how much trash and damage was left behind by the houses back by the gate by the football fields by visiting fans (or our own students). And that's not taking into account houses being toilet papered, cars being egged or the occasional "war" in the streets or extreme senior court trashing (I'm talking to you class of '88).
The worst part of the story to me was that some of the people didn't want them practicing in the morning at all. The person we talked to even went as far to complain on behalf of those who work nights or have small children.
First off, if you're the parent of a small child, you're already sleep deprived. The music might even help. And second, as someone who's worked nights exclusively for going on 10 years, the world is not built for us who work late into the evening (or overnight). You learn to sleep through the annoyances that are going on around you. You know, things like doors slamming, children screaming, car alarms going off ... sunrise.
Being a renter, I've come to deal with some realities. One such is that the landscaping crew will be outside your window every week making a racket no matter what time you get in bed. We had a one such group who started at 7 a.m. every week during the summer without fail. And when you work until midnight and go to sleep at 1:30 a.m., it's a pain. But there's nothing you can do about it - you deal with it. And I've lived near train tracks that were right next door to an airport.
So, "people," suck it up already. You'd rather the students not be in the band? Out on the streets with no extracurricular activities? Because I'm sure that can be arranged, too. And then you can complain about those damn kids being on your lawn.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Fast Food Friday
It's been a while since we've done this, so here goes...
Since small became the new big at fast food places, restaurants have tried just about anything to get you to grab their small bites.
Jack in the Box entered the market of "small" food earlier this year with its mini sirloin burgers, which I loved (and still order sorta regularly). So, it was a no brainer to try out their mini buffalo ranch chicken sandwiches.
And, well, they're OK. The mini chicken patties aren't as bad as they could be, and the buffalo and ranch provide a different taste ... but something just struck me as they weren't as good as they could have been.
Part of it is the whole sauce issue. If I want buffalo chicken, I want the buffalo sauce on the chicken. And preferably, I'd like the patty lightly tossed in the buffalo sauce (Frank's Red Hot, which they've been using for years) with the ranch placed upon top from there. But being a fast food place, having something tossed would be like asking for a steamed lobster. It's just not going to happen. The likelihood would be better that they would dunk the patty in the sauce and put too much on it.
Besides the buffalo and ranch (which does provide you with a drip hazard), you get lettuce on your mini buns. The whole think adds up to 738 calories according to their Web site's nutrition info. For comparisons sake, their long-time favorite, the spicy chicken sandwich - with cheese - will ding you for 626 calories and the chipotle chicken ciabatta with the spicy crispy patty - with cheese AND bacon - will get you for 704 calories.
Just saw a commercial for the newest product coming from the minds of Carl's Jr. and there's nothing like going right after an icon.
Introducing the Big Carl.
Two all-beef patties, special sauce (Carl's), lettuce and two slices of cheese on a toasted sesame seed bun! No pickles, no onions, no piece of bread in between.
I don't see the need for Carl's to make this kind of move. What's the point? People already love your burgers (the Western is one of the best ever) and the Six-Dollar Burgers are well worth the extra change. I'm assuming that the price is less than McD's, so as to say, hey, we can do your signature better and cheaper than you, with less bread, even.
Even then, it's gonna hit you in the stomach. The Big Carl weighs in at a serving size of 315 grams, and will hit you at 920 calories - a whopping 530 from fat. The Mac, meanwhile, is 214 grams, and only 540 calories, 240 of which is fat.
You know, I'll give just about anything a try in the fast food arena.
But there has been one item that I have looked at at various places and said no way, no how. And I saw it offered at Del Taco for the first time the other day.
A chili cheese fries burrito.
I think I had seen it at Weinerschnitzel before that, and I just get the willies thinking about it. Fries, in a burrito? No thanks.
I know what you're thinking. "But, dude, it's just chili cheese fries in a convenient carrying device." Nope. Just not wrapping my head around it.
Mind you, put those in a tray and I'll eat 'em up. Heck, I liked the Taco Bell beef and potato burrito. And you know how many other places I've had tater tots in breakfast burritos and had no complaints?
Maybe it's just the idea of the texture of fries. They're supposed to have a decent crispy snap to them. And then you wrap them in a flour tortilla?
It must be a rather new thing they're trying out, because there's no nutritional info on their Web site for that bad boy.
Speaking of things I won't even dare try ...
The snack bar at the bowling alley I've been frequenting in Moreno Valley has something called the "Big Bowler" and they put a picture of it up so you don't have to use your imagination.
For $6, they'll give you a pound of meat (I've never been able to count the patties in the picture), five slices of cheese and "mucho veggies" between a bun. Even in their picture, the thing is leaning over from its sheer weight.
The first time I was there, I asked the woman working the counter how many of those things they sold a day? Maybe one I figured. Two tops, right?
"Oh, three or four."
Groan.
I'm assuming they're being shared by the adventurous teen set who come in on dates. But, man, just thinking about it makes my arteries harden.
That's the one form of food self abuse I've never really thrust upon myself - the ridiculously oversized fast food burger. I may have gotten a triple cheeseburger from McDonalds once (and, hey, it was McDonald's). I hear about people going to In n Out and getting a triple-triple or shudder a four-by-four and can't even fathom getting through one of those. The double-double (animal style, hold the dressing, thank you much) is plenty-plenty. And when I'm done with my meal from there, I always want more fries - not burger.
Oh, and speaking of quality you can taste, saw a story recently asking celebrity (and other famous) chefs what their favorite fast food place was ... the winner, In n Out.
Jack in the Box entered the market of "small" food earlier this year with its mini sirloin burgers, which I loved (and still order sorta regularly). So, it was a no brainer to try out their mini buffalo ranch chicken sandwiches.
And, well, they're OK. The mini chicken patties aren't as bad as they could be, and the buffalo and ranch provide a different taste ... but something just struck me as they weren't as good as they could have been.
Part of it is the whole sauce issue. If I want buffalo chicken, I want the buffalo sauce on the chicken. And preferably, I'd like the patty lightly tossed in the buffalo sauce (Frank's Red Hot, which they've been using for years) with the ranch placed upon top from there. But being a fast food place, having something tossed would be like asking for a steamed lobster. It's just not going to happen. The likelihood would be better that they would dunk the patty in the sauce and put too much on it.
Besides the buffalo and ranch (which does provide you with a drip hazard), you get lettuce on your mini buns. The whole think adds up to 738 calories according to their Web site's nutrition info. For comparisons sake, their long-time favorite, the spicy chicken sandwich - with cheese - will ding you for 626 calories and the chipotle chicken ciabatta with the spicy crispy patty - with cheese AND bacon - will get you for 704 calories.
Introducing the Big Carl.
Two all-beef patties, special sauce (Carl's), lettuce and two slices of cheese on a toasted sesame seed bun! No pickles, no onions, no piece of bread in between.
I don't see the need for Carl's to make this kind of move. What's the point? People already love your burgers (the Western is one of the best ever) and the Six-Dollar Burgers are well worth the extra change. I'm assuming that the price is less than McD's, so as to say, hey, we can do your signature better and cheaper than you, with less bread, even.
Even then, it's gonna hit you in the stomach. The Big Carl weighs in at a serving size of 315 grams, and will hit you at 920 calories - a whopping 530 from fat. The Mac, meanwhile, is 214 grams, and only 540 calories, 240 of which is fat.
But there has been one item that I have looked at at various places and said no way, no how. And I saw it offered at Del Taco for the first time the other day.
A chili cheese fries burrito.
I think I had seen it at Weinerschnitzel before that, and I just get the willies thinking about it. Fries, in a burrito? No thanks.
I know what you're thinking. "But, dude, it's just chili cheese fries in a convenient carrying device." Nope. Just not wrapping my head around it.
Mind you, put those in a tray and I'll eat 'em up. Heck, I liked the Taco Bell beef and potato burrito. And you know how many other places I've had tater tots in breakfast burritos and had no complaints?
Maybe it's just the idea of the texture of fries. They're supposed to have a decent crispy snap to them. And then you wrap them in a flour tortilla?
It must be a rather new thing they're trying out, because there's no nutritional info on their Web site for that bad boy.
The snack bar at the bowling alley I've been frequenting in Moreno Valley has something called the "Big Bowler" and they put a picture of it up so you don't have to use your imagination.
For $6, they'll give you a pound of meat (I've never been able to count the patties in the picture), five slices of cheese and "mucho veggies" between a bun. Even in their picture, the thing is leaning over from its sheer weight.
The first time I was there, I asked the woman working the counter how many of those things they sold a day? Maybe one I figured. Two tops, right?
"Oh, three or four."
Groan.
I'm assuming they're being shared by the adventurous teen set who come in on dates. But, man, just thinking about it makes my arteries harden.
That's the one form of food self abuse I've never really thrust upon myself - the ridiculously oversized fast food burger. I may have gotten a triple cheeseburger from McDonalds once (and, hey, it was McDonald's). I hear about people going to In n Out and getting a triple-triple or shudder a four-by-four and can't even fathom getting through one of those. The double-double (animal style, hold the dressing, thank you much) is plenty-plenty. And when I'm done with my meal from there, I always want more fries - not burger.
Oh, and speaking of quality you can taste, saw a story recently asking celebrity (and other famous) chefs what their favorite fast food place was ... the winner, In n Out.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Root, root, root for the OTHER team
Angels fans need to do a little extra rooting these days.
For the Texas Rangers.
Yes, I know that the Rangers are in the American League West, and them winning would put the Angels' lead in the division in jeopardy, but wait a second and follow me on this one.
Let's go back a year, and the Angels' 100-win season. That they had the division all-but wrapped up in, oh, late July. They were in cruise control for a good part of the season. The only thing they had to play for a long time was the quest for 100 wins and Francisco Rodriguez's save record.
That's no way to stay sharp, especially when you need to be at the top of your game in the playoffs.
So having Texas hang around will keep pressure on the Angels to win. While it seems nice to clinch the division early, it'll be good for this team to play meaningful games late in September.
But there's a bigger, more important reason for Angels fans to get behind Texas.
One word: Boston.
You don't want the Sawx anywhere near the city of Anaheim in October. No way. No how.
Home-field advantage? Throw it out the window. Better pitching staff? They have to do it in Fenway, something they haven't done. And the vaunted lineup? In the cold of October, again, in Fenway.
They can say whatever they want about it being a new year, or a new challenge, and that it won't get into their head.
Yeah, sure. After the 20th question about the Angels' woes in the playoffs against the Red Sox, and it will seep into the unconscious of any player.
And all the history will be dredged up ... again.
The way the standings are going, with 44 games or so to go, the Rangers and Sox are tied for the wild card. And it won't matter if the Angels have the best record over the Yankees if the Sox are the wild card. The two AL East teams can't play each other in the first round, so Boston will be shipped West to take out the Angels and make the east-coast media happy.
But if Texas can hang with Boston, and win the wild card, they'll get thrown to the Yankees, and the Angels will get the Central Division winner (which, if it's the other Sox, will be another painful problem for the Halos). But it would still be preferable to having to deal with the thousands of issues that come with having to play Boston -- again.
So, join me in rooting down the stretch for the Rangers to keep pace. And, it would be nice to throw a wrench in plans of Fox and the other baseball partners by having to go to Arlington in October, instead of their favorite of Fenway.
For the Texas Rangers.
Yes, I know that the Rangers are in the American League West, and them winning would put the Angels' lead in the division in jeopardy, but wait a second and follow me on this one.
Let's go back a year, and the Angels' 100-win season. That they had the division all-but wrapped up in, oh, late July. They were in cruise control for a good part of the season. The only thing they had to play for a long time was the quest for 100 wins and Francisco Rodriguez's save record.
That's no way to stay sharp, especially when you need to be at the top of your game in the playoffs.
So having Texas hang around will keep pressure on the Angels to win. While it seems nice to clinch the division early, it'll be good for this team to play meaningful games late in September.
But there's a bigger, more important reason for Angels fans to get behind Texas.
One word: Boston.
You don't want the Sawx anywhere near the city of Anaheim in October. No way. No how.
Home-field advantage? Throw it out the window. Better pitching staff? They have to do it in Fenway, something they haven't done. And the vaunted lineup? In the cold of October, again, in Fenway.
They can say whatever they want about it being a new year, or a new challenge, and that it won't get into their head.
Yeah, sure. After the 20th question about the Angels' woes in the playoffs against the Red Sox, and it will seep into the unconscious of any player.
And all the history will be dredged up ... again.
The way the standings are going, with 44 games or so to go, the Rangers and Sox are tied for the wild card. And it won't matter if the Angels have the best record over the Yankees if the Sox are the wild card. The two AL East teams can't play each other in the first round, so Boston will be shipped West to take out the Angels and make the east-coast media happy.
But if Texas can hang with Boston, and win the wild card, they'll get thrown to the Yankees, and the Angels will get the Central Division winner (which, if it's the other Sox, will be another painful problem for the Halos). But it would still be preferable to having to deal with the thousands of issues that come with having to play Boston -- again.
So, join me in rooting down the stretch for the Rangers to keep pace. And, it would be nice to throw a wrench in plans of Fox and the other baseball partners by having to go to Arlington in October, instead of their favorite of Fenway.
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