“2010 YEAR IN REVIEW ”

Each year’s last edition of The Times is a look back at the year’s highlights. As I spent some time pulling together what I viewed as the sports highlights from the past year I once again realized that we have a lot of good sports programs in our county. So as you thumb through the sports section this week take time to relish the many sports accomplishments that occurred in our county this year.

Of course there is no way to include each and every sports highlight that occurred during the year. Time and space just would not allow us to do so. And I am sure that there are some highlights that some of you might feel that should have been included but were not.

My process for making these selections is fairly simple. I flip through each paper’s sports section for the past year and jot down those stories that I think are highlights. Then, usually because of space limitations, there is some culling of that list.

To read the rest of the story visit our virtual paper by clicking on this link!

“Randy’s Rowdies - Part I

As you might expect I travel around the county on a frequent basis. This allows me to form an opinion as to who has the best cheering sections. The Malone vs Marianna game two weeks ago in Malone was certainly a great crowd that was rocking on both sides. A few years ago the Cottondale Hornets had the “Let’s Get Cruncked Up” crowd that was pretty good.

To read the rest of the story visit our virtual paper by clicking on this link!

Turn Out The Lights

On Monday morning I was saddened to hear the news of the passing of Don Meredith. “Dandy Dan” as we knew him died Sunday at the age of 72. For many the passing of Meredith was just another ex-athlete/broadcaster who had died and in doing so made the news. Meredith was much more than just an ex-athlete/broadcaster to me. As a young teenager Meredith was one of the main reasons I looked forward to Monday Night Football in it’s early days. For those of you who are too young or unfamiliar, Meredith served as one of the commentators on ABC’s Monday Night Football over a period of 14 years.

To read the rest of the story visit our virtual paper by clicking on this link!

“It’s About Time”

If you have ready my column on any regular basis you know that I have several soap boxes that I climb up on every now and then. Of course, some folks would say that at 5’5” I need to climb up on a soap box more often just to be seen and heard.

One of the soap boxes that I have stood on for several years now has to do with the issue of public school athletic programs having to compete against athletic programs from private schools. Over the last few years I’ve written several columns about this subject and have outlines the various advantages that I think private school athletic programs have over the public school athletic programs.

To read the rest of the story visit our virtual paper by clicking on this link!

“Blessed”

“Blessed”

Thanksgiving is a time to be reminded of all the things we have to be thankful for in our lives and our community. Oh I know that the evening news and the morning papers (not The Times of course) are full of stories that would make anyone wonder what we have to be thankful for. And I know there are plenty of bad things happening out there that make me shake my head in disbelief.

To read the rest of the story visit our virtual paper by clicking on this link!

“Hats Off To The Head Hornet”

We are routinely bombarded in the media with stories about athletes getting special treatment. And there are certainly some examples that prove that to be true. But how often does the media publicize when those athletes are held to a high standard by their coaches? Not often enough in my opinion.

To read the rest of the story visit our virtual paper by clicking on this link!

“Two Different Worlds Part II”

There is a letter to the editor about my column last week and I would certainly encourage our readers to read that letter. I clearly offended some folks with my comments about rednecks and homosexuals. Let me say right up front that I thought the comments made in the letter to the editor are for the most part well articulated and I am man enough to accept that others are going to have different opinions about the way we look at the world.

My intent was never to offend anyone. My intent was simply to show how in a short period of time I was in two different environments that could not have been any further apart. And I will confess that, as I often do, I was attempting to write my column with some humor. While I have had more than several folks comment that they saw the humor in my column, clearly there are those who would say that my attempt at humor was a very poor choice.

I can accept that some would say that my attempt at humor was a poor attempt and that as a sports editor maybe it would be best if I just stuck to sports. I was not attempting to bash anyone. I recognize that Ms. Sharp does not know me, except through my articles. But I think the people that do know me would tell her that I am not a basher. If anyone was offended by my comments last week, please accept my apology.

I don’t think it was fair though for Ms. Sharp to attempt to connect my article in some way to gay kids committing suicide for being bullied. My faith doesn’t teach me to do anything that might appear to be of a bullying nature. And suicide has touched my family twice, so I would never intentionally do anything that I thought would even remotely be part of that. However I should not have said anything that might have been construed by some as being mean spirited. Again those people that know me I think would attest that I am not a mean spirited person.

Ms. Sharp certainly has the right to express her opinion about me and I applaud the paper for running her comments. But even more so I would appreciate the opportunity to talk with Ms. Sharp either by phone or in person. Since I don’t know her or her phone number, this is my invitation to Ms. Sharp to call me (209-7319). From her letter I suspect that we probably have different opinions about the subject matter. But I’d like the opportunity to attempt to show her that I am not a mean spirited person, that I am not out to bully anyone and that I can agree to disagree with folks in a civil and respectful manner.

Simply Put, I’d welcome that opportunity.

From the Front Porch: Coach said words that soak into your ears are whispered...not yelled.

“Two Different Worlds”

“Two Different Worlds”


Last Friday afternoon Russell Register and I left a little early for Marianna’s game in Port St. Joe. We figured St. Joe would be a good place to cure a hankering we had for some good salty oysters. After several stops we were disappointed to find that St. Joe has no oyster bars.

To read the rest of the story visit our virtual paper by clicking on this link!

“Faces”

I have recently discovered another sign of my aging process. At a gathering this past Sunday a gentleman introduced me to his wife. I made the usual comment about it being nice to meet her and she told me that we had met a week or two before where we both work. I’ll be the first to admit I am terrible at remembering names. But I am usually pretty good at remembering faces. I guess she could tell I was still clueless as to who she was, so she let me in on exactly when and where we had met. Once she did I then remembered meeting her.

To read the rest of the story visit our virtual paper by clicking on this link!

“The Big Kahuna”

Don Moore was many things to many people. For most folks around here he was that familiar voice on the radio for the past 30 plus years. For Russell Register and I he was much more than just a voice on the radio. As I pondered the passing of Don (see story on front page) I boiled our friendship down to three things.

To read the rest of the story visit our virtual paper by clicking on this link!

“Glad To Be Wrong”

As we now know FSU beat up on Miami and proved that the other three pickers were right and I was wrong. My reverse psychology worked. Simply Put, I can’t recall being so glad to be so wrong in such a long time. Go Noles.

From the Front Porch: Coach said we can respond to life’s adversities by choosing to be powerful or choosing to be pitiful.

To read the rest of the story visit our virtual paper by clicking on this link!

“Real Grits”

I’m a grits man. I’ve been eating grits for as long as I can remember. I prefer them with a little salt and real butter, but cheese is fine too, assuming fried fish is on the plate.

I buy a bag of Jim Dandy Quick Grits every few weeks and I’ve never really given much thought to why they’re called quick grits. That all changed this past weekend when I made another pilgrimage to Bradley’s Country Store. I wrote about Bradley’s and their country style sausage two weeks ago. While in the store I noticed they also sell country milled grits. I figured as much as I like grits and as much as I like their sausage, I ought to give these “real” grits a try.

To read the rest of the story visit our virtual paper by clicking on this link!

“How ‘Bout Them Hornets”

When the 2010 football season started I, like all local high school football fans, had my thoughts on who would do well this season and who would struggle. Much like the weekly college football picks that I have been butchering lately, my thoughts on who would do well and who would struggle once again prove that I don’t need to quit my day job just yet.
To read the rest of the story visit our virtual paper by clicking on this link!

“The Best”

I don’t do a lot of endorsements. Some folks who live out their lives in the public eye will slap their name or picture on anything that moves, crawls or can be eaten. Some, like fellow Times columnist Homer Hirt, use a more subliminal approach to endorsement. I’ve just never been much into endorsements. And I am sure that has nothing to do with the fact that I’ve never had anybody approach me to endorse their product.

But I am stepping out this week into the endorsement world, even though the folks that make this product have not asked me for endorsement. Nor do I suspect that they need my endorsement as they seemed to have done just fine for the past 83 years without it.

I’ve said before that there aren’t many things I miss about living in Tallahassee where I lived for 8 years. But there are three things that I do miss: my tennis league, good Buffalo Wings and Bradley’s Smoked Sausage.

Twelve miles east of Tallahassee on Centerville Road one can take a trip into the past. Bradley’s Country Store has been serving customers since 1927. The store today looks much like it did in 1927. Wooden porch, wooden rocking chairs, screen front door, hard wood floors with shelves stocked with some of the necessities of living. But what draws customers to Bradley’s is in the back of the store. That is where they sell their smoked sausage.

Their smoked sausage is made right there at the store, using the same recipe that Grandma Bradley started using back in 1927. They have the same varieties as Grandma Bradley had back then. The top sellers are regular and spicy smoked sausage, followed by fresh made baby link and ground sausage.

This past Saturday I was in Tallahassee for a Cross Country race and had a little free time after the race. A quick call to my mom and a road trip to Bradley’s was in order. It has been years since I made the lovely drive out Centerville Road and much to my pleasure, nothing has changed. Same oak tree canopy drive, same store front, same store on the inside and best of all the sausage still taste the same. We got a couple of sausage dogs to go and they were delicious.

The only thing that has changed about Bradley’s Smoked Sausage over the years is the price. It’s not cheap, but it is certainly worth every penny. They had plenty of business on Saturday, so other folks must not mind paying for good sausage either.

So if you want some mighty fine sausage, make you a road trip to Bradley’s Country Store. For me, Simply Put, it’s “The Best” I’ve ever eatin’. Want to know more about Bradley’s Country Store? Check them out on the internet at www.bradleyscountrystore.com

From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said the average person thinks that he is better than the average person.

“Keep On Playing”

Ronald Reagan was President, my good buddy Russell Register had a head full of hair and I looked more like a former wide receiver than a former offense guard. The year was 1988, and that is how long it had been since Graceville beat Marianna in football. But this past Friday night the Tigers pulled off a 24-21 win over the Bulldogs.

Last year was the first time in Bulldog football history that all three county football teams (Cottondale, Graceville and Sneads) were on their schedule. It was the first year Marianna had ever played Sneads, which the Bulldogs won, during the regular season. Including this year’s game against Cottondale the Bulldogs have won all 9 of the meetings with the Hornets.

Graceville has been another story though. Counting Friday night’s game the two teams have played at least 35 times, dating back to the 1930’s. While the outcome of two of the contest is unknown to me, of the 33 times there is a recorded outcome, Marianna has won 25 times. But that means the Tigers have pulled off 8 wins over the Bulldogs. They had two wins in the 30’s, one in the fifties, four in the eighties and last Friday night’s win.

Some folks on both sides of the street say these games should not be on the schedule. The smaller schools, those folks would say, don’t need to play Marianna. They would say that most of the time you are going to get beat and wins are harder enough to get. So why make it even tougher by playing Marianna?

Some Marianna folks might ask “why play the smaller schools?” You have nothing to gain if you win because you were supposed to win. And if you lose it is a bitter pill to swallow as the largest school in the county.

Some of those in favor of these games might note that it is a good payday at the admission gate. All programs need money to run and having these inter-county games are a big boost to the pocket books. While that is certainly true, I like these games for another reason.

Inter-county games are intense rivalries. It’s not just another game and it gets folks fired up. And when one of the smaller schools knocks the “Big Dog” off the porch so to say, it creates a memory for those players and that community that won’t soon be forgotten. I know the Marianna folks would just assume not be the fodder for making another team’s year, but that is the nature of sports. You win some, and Marianna has won most, and you lose some. Graceville has pulled it off 8 times, Cottondale has been close several times and Sneads will try again late this season.

So while there are some folks that say these games should not be scheduled, I say Simply Put, let’s keep on playing them.

From the Front Porch: Coach said that all potential means is that you haven’t done anything yet.

“Don’t Quit The Day Job Just Yet”

Every August at The Times somebody, other than me, comes up with the idea to have a football picking contest. In other words have a contest sponsored by the paper in which local folks, and myself, pick who we think will be the winners of various football games.

Each year I do my best to nix the idea. This year the forces were too overwhelming and thus The Times now has the “Pigskin Football Contest”. I did win one battle this year. The idea to include local high school games as part of the contest was thrown out at my request. My job is already tough enough, and calling up coaches for information or quotes after I picked the other team to win doesn’t make for good public relations.

I’ve generally been opposed to these kinds of contest in our paper for several reasons.
For one, I must confess that I do not follow college football as close as I used to. I know that my column last week was about my excitement over the return of college football. But after covering the local sports scene week in and week out now for over four years I get my fill of sports. I still follow my favorite teams, but I don’t watch football all day and all evening like I used to. When I get some free time these days instead of watching more sports, I tend to prefer taking my wife out for dinner and maybe a movie. And I also don’t mind finding a river to paddle or a trail to hike.

Another reason that I don’t like these contest is that I tend to select with my heart and not my head. It’s hard to pick against some of my favorite schools and I’ve always been a sucker to pick the underdog. I feel better when my favorite teams win and I get lucky every now and then with the underdogs. But picking favorites and underdogs doesn’t usually pad my winning percentage.

And the last reason is these contest are brutal on my sports ego. I know some of our readers might find it difficult to believe I have an ego. But my lovely wife of 24 years often addresses the issue of my ego, so apparently I’ve got one. I’ve been a local sports broadcaster for almost 20 years and a sports editor now for over four years. That has lead some of the general public to think I know a thing or two about sports. And I’ve done my best over these years to keep up the charade. These pick the winner contest blow my cover and reveal that no one should consult my picks on the way to see their local bookie.

In fact, when this season is said and done, Simply Put, the Pigskin Football Contest is likely to show all our readers why I don’t need to quit my day job just yet.

From the Front Porch: Coach said to remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.

“Bring On The Buffet”

The last snap was more than seven months ago. That is when the Alabama Crimson Tide captured their 13th National Championship. But starting this Thursday night college football is back, and it comes back with a smorgasbord of ball games. There will be college football games on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday. Wives, throw away the honey do list for the weekend.

There is nothing quite like college football. I’ll confess that I am bias about the subject. Football is my favorite sport to watch, which is somewhat odd in that basketball was always my favorite sport to play. But college football ignites a spirit and enthusiasm among it’s millions of fans that is unlike any other sport. There is an entire culture that surrounds college football. Think of the millions that will fill the stadiums this season. And that pales in comparison to the millions upon millions that will watch college football. I know the other sports have their own culture and their enthusiast, but they are dwarfed when compared to college football.

This season also brings with it many questions for local college football fans. Crimson Tide fans waited for many years for the return to glory. Now they must ask themselves “Can Nick (Saban) lead us to a repeat?” While most Bama fans have master’s degrees from the Bear Bryant school of poor mouthing and will tell you all the potential shortfalls of this year’s team, I think Bama can repeat.

Florida fans, and their enemies, are wondering “Is there life after Tebow?” Gator QB Tim Tebow brought the Gators two national titles and dominated college football for the past few years. But I would remind Gator fans, and their skeptics, Florida has a long history of great quarterbacks that began long before Tebow. This new boy, John Brantley, will likely come out and sling the ball all over the field and probably set all kinds of new records.

Auburn and Miami fans are asking if their relatively new coaches (Gene Chizik and Randy Shannon) can return those programs to glory. Yes they can and they probably will this season. Georgia fans are asking for a better season and Georgia Tech fans say if they can get some defense they’ll win the games their supposed to win and then some.

And of course there is FSU. The Bobby Bowden era is over and Nole fans want to know “Can Jimbo Fisher jump start a Seminole program that has been mired in mediocrity the last few years?” “Can Jimbo Fisher be to FSU what Nick Saban has been to Alabama?”. I don’t know, but the two did coach together at LSU when the Tigers won a national title.

It all starts on Thursday and after a seven month forced starvation diet, Simply Put, bring on the buffet. College football is back and back with a furry.



From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said his mind is somewhat like lighting. One brilliant flash and then it’s gone.

“The Voice of Bulldog Football”

On this page is an article I wrote about Russell Register beginning his 22nd season as the radio play by play announcer of Bulldog Football. You will note that he had three different color analysts in each of his first three years. As the third one, I joined him at the beginning of the 1991 season. For better or worse, he’s been stuck with me ever since. I calculated just how many Bulldog football broadcast he has done in the previous 21 seasons. Out of 249 broadcast, he has done 247 of them.

As a young child and teenager I used to listen to a lot of football on the radio. I listened to both high school and college football. Some of my earliest memories of listening to football on the radio was in the late 60’s. FSU played all their home games on Saturday night back then and my family attended those games on a regular basis. On the way back to Marianna my dad love to tune our AM radio to LSU football. They also played on Saturday nights but being on central time they were an hour behind the Seminoles. I can recall being young enough to lay in the front sit of our car with my head in my mother’s lap, listening to those strange sounding Cajun names and the roar of that rowdy Bengal crowd on a Baton Rouge Saturday night.

In 1990 I was living in Tallahassee but was home one weekend and made sure to tune the radio to Bulldog football. As the son of a former Bulldog football coach, the brother of two former Bulldog football players and having worn the purple and gold myself, I wanted to check up on the Bulldogs. I had also heard from my brother that Russell was doing the broadcast.

That was no surprise to me. I had known him growing up and could always recall he had a habit of “announcing” when we played pick up games of football and basketball. The minute I heard him broadcasting that game I knew that it was something that I would like to try. I am firmly convinced that the LORD made that opportunity happened a few months later. Twenty years later I am still tagging along.

Bulldog football fans are a faithful bunch. But like any group who gets used to something, they are capable to taking things for granted. Russell has been around for so long that I suspect some folks take him, and the quality of the broadcast, for granted. For the past 19 years I have listened to Russell’s voice come through my headset. He is the best high school football announcer I have ever heard. Simply Put, he is The Voice of Bulldog football and I hope that Bulldog football fans appreciate what he has done for our program over these past 22 years. From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said his son has a military golf game…left, right, left, right.

Out and About - The Hills of N.C.

Are you looking for a place to beat the swelter heat of Dog Days in Northwest Florida. Well the hills of North Carolina are callin’. Located in the western portion of the Tar Heel State, the Great Smokey Mountains and the Nantahala National Forest are the perfect get away places to for us Floridians. It’s no wonder that is seems like every other car tag I saw last week in North Carolina was from the Sunshine State. There are a multitude of opportunities when vacationing in western North Carolina and the following are just a few suggestions.

Hiking enthusiasts will feel like they have died and gone to heaven. This region is a mecca of hiking trails with amazing scenery. Of course the grand daddy of the hiking trails is the Appalachian Trail, but there are literally hundreds of other hiking trails in this region. I thoroughly enjoyed hiking the Big Laurel Falls trail on Standing Indian Mountain in the Nantahala National Forest. The long drive to get there was worth the hike and trip to Big Laurel Falls, which offered nice little pool of cool water just right for a summer time dip. The nearby portions of the Appalachian Trail are worth the hike as well, including the Wayah Bald Tower (elevation 5,342 feet). This stone lookout tower offers some spectacular panoramic views of the surrounding mountain ranges.

The town of Cherokee offers a variety of fun things to do as well as some cultural enrichment opportunities to learn more about the history of the Cherokee Indians. While some aspects of Cherokee fall into the classic “tourist trap” category, don’t let that steer you away. My favorite place in Cherokee is the Oconaluftee Islands Park in downtown Cherokee. This public park has pavilions, grills, and shade trees that invite you and your family for some quality outdoor time. The main attraction though is the Oconaluftee River. The river offers an opportunity to tube or swim, which are ideal on a hot summer afternoon. The kids will absolutely love playing along the river’s shallows with the thousands of river rocks.

The Great Smokey Mountain Railroad departs out of Bryson City and offers two routes, one to the Nantahala Gorge and the other to Dillsboro. The route to the Nantahala Gorge offers nice scenery of the mountains, Fontana Lake and the Nantahala River. An hour layover at the Nantahala Outdoor Center offers the opportunity for lunch and, if you are brave enough, a dip in the frigid waters (52 degrees) of the Nantahala. I can attest that the Nantahala River makes Blue Springs feel like a hot tub.

The region demonstrates their love of music as almost every community offers “Music In The Park.” On most Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights these communities offer free musical entertainment in the downtown park areas. And their first choice of music is their beloved “mountain music” or better known as Bluegrass music. With a little scouting of local newspapers you can map out the various musical opportunities available. While the music may not be what you normally listen to, I assure you that you will see and hear some of the finest musicians anywhere when taking in these venues.

“Doing Nothing…Mountain Style”

While vacationing last week in North Carolina (See Out and About…The Hills of North Carolina on page B3) we ventured to the town of Cherokee. Everybody had their planned activities for the day. Some of my tribal clan planned to contribute to the local Cherokee economy at Harrah’s. My youngest son Patrick is too young for Harrah’s, but he also wanted to do his part to help the local Cherokee economy. So he planned to do some shopping at the quintessential tourist shopping strip.

He turned to me and asked what I planned to do. “I’m headin’ to my favorite place in Cherokee” I said. “You must be going to that park” he replied, in that tone that only a 15 year old can use that suggest they are questioning their parent’s sanity.

“You got it,” I fired back, “I’m heading to Oconaluftee Island Park.” Not only is it my favorite place in Cherokee to visit, it is one of my favorite places in all of the mountains to visit. The town of Cherokee has some elements of a “tourist trap” and I normally try to avoid tourist traps. But I don’t mind Cherokee because I know I can relax at the park. This public park’s feature attraction is the Oconaluftee River’s rippling waters on either side of the island.

The river is just right for a relaxing tube float or dip in the cool waters on a hot summer afternoon. When our kids were little they could spend hours along the river’s shallows, playing with the thousands of river rocks. And of course a mandatory rock skipping contest was held at each outing at the park.

My kids have outgrown much of that now and the park doesn’t hold the same appeal to them. “What are you going to do at the park?” Patrick asked me. “Oh I’ll probably float on a tube and take a little dip. After that I’ll probably just sit in my chair under a shade tree and watch the river roll by.” He shook his head and I could just image that his 15 year old brain was thinking ‘he’s just going to sit in a chair and watch the river roll by’, how boring. “Doesn’t sound to exciting, does it” I asked. Again he just shook his head as if to wonder about dear ole dad’s state of mind.

I felt compelled to explain to him the wonders of doing nothing. In fact I told him, Simply Put, sometimes doing nothing…especially in the mountains… is my favorite thing to do.

P.S. – after his shopping trip, Patrick joined me at the park for a swim and rock skipping contest. He beat his dad at skipping rocks and proved he hasn’t quite out grown the park yet. Neither have I and I hope we never do.

From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said if you are lucky enough to be in the mountains…you are lucky enough.

“Reading Simply Put”

From time to time folks stop me and talk about this column. I’ve been writing a weekly column now for almost four years and I guess I’m still a little amazed that folks like to read what I write. Most of the comments that I get are favorable and a few folks have even told me I should have gone into journalism for a living.

As flattering as that is, I can’t help but wonder what Ms. Musgrove, Ms. Gibson or Mr. Almond would say about me writing a column and sports each week for the newspaper. The ladies were my 8th and 9th grade English teachers and I am positive that I would have been their #1 choice for “least likely to succeed in the field of journalism.” I suspect that Mr. Almond, who tried to teach me English at Chipola, would be completely baffled at the prospect of my writing anything for the newspaper.

Halfway through the semester Mr. Almond offered me some advice. After exhausting his supply of red pens grading my papers, he told me I had two choices. Option #1, drop the class and retake it next semester. Option #2, stay in the class and maybe learn enough to help me pass the class when I retook it next semester. Realizing my chance of passing his class was worst than a snowball’s chance south of the border, I went with option one. I suspect that choice was much to Mr. Almond’s relief.

I am also somewhat amazed when folks talk to me about when and where they read my column. One lady told me that she gets her paper by mail on Friday. She spends her Friday evenings relaxing while reading the paper and my column. Lots of folks tell me that they read the paper and my column in the mornings while relaxing with a cup of coffee.

One fellow told me that he reads my column while in the “library” seated on his “throne.” I wasn’t quite sure how to take that comment. Was it meant as a compliment that he reads my column while using the bathroom, or does he equate what I have to say with what he is doing?

Here’s what I do know. I still find it amazing that I can figure out something to write about each week, and for the most part that something is apparently enjoyable to our readers. Here’s the other thing that I know. As you are reading this week’s column I am in one of my favorite places in the world, the mountains of North Carolina. And as I enjoy a little down time, I am reminded of what an honor it is that you allow me to come into your homes, and I guess even your bathrooms, on a weekly basis. So, Simply Put, thanks for reading Simply Put. If you’ll keep on reading, I’ll keep on writing.



From the Front Porch: Coach said every path has a few puddles.

“Not Ready For the Pasture”

Last week’s column about getting older has resulted in several folks making comments and observations to me. After a while all the talk of getting older was beginning to make me feel….old.

One commented that most of their conversations are about doctors, hospitals and medication. Another told me that if it weren’t for their doctors appointments they would rarely leave the house. Then I was surfing the TV channels one night and saw a program on aging. Talk about depressing. If watching a program on aging doesn’t take a year or two off your life, nothing will.

It began to occur to me that talking about being old and thinking about being old just makes me feel even older. While being 50 doesn’t qualify me as a spring chicken, being 50 isn’t nearly as old as it used to be. I can remember when I was a teenager a fellow told me he was 28. I thought to myself “man is he old.” It doesn’t seem like that many years ago to me that someone being 40 or 50 was a clear sign that they probably already had all their funeral arrangements laid out. Not so anymore. Now being 50 just means I’m a seasoned veteran. I’m just getting broke in. Heck, even 60 don’t sound that old anymore.

I’m told that two good ways to avoid “getting old” is to stay physically active and watch your diet. I’ve got the physically active part down pretty good. I jog 3 miles at least 3-4 times a week. I trained several months getting ready for my Freedom Springs triathlon back in July. I still love to canoe, kayak and swim as a way to enjoy the outdoors and get some exercise. Next week I’ll be heading to the mountains of North Carolina and I’m sure I’ll take in a few hiking trails and do some whitewater rafting.

I’ll confess my diet needs a lot of improvement. I have an absolute love affair with food, and most of it is unhealthly. Is there anything better than a thick juicy bacon cheeseburger? I love just about anything that is fried, potato chips are still the #1 snack food and a 9 pm bed time snack always sounds good to me.

But diet aside, I am trying to think young so that I don’t get too old too quick. There are still a lot of things I want to do in life. And many of them are going to require that I be physically, and mentally, up to the challenge.

So while I can’t do anything to stop getting older in years, I can do something to stay physically fit and young in mind. Because, Simply Put, I’m not ready just yet to be put out to pasture.



From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said his cousin quit school in the 10th grade because of pneumonia. Not because he had it, but because he couldn’t spell it.

“Diver Down”

Its official, I’m getting old. After turning 50 in February I am racking up the frequent flyer miles to the doctor’s offices and I’m not thrilled about these flights. First they put me on cholesterol medicine. You know your getting old when the conversations with your buddies turn from your athletic abilities or youthful escapades to what is the name of your cholesterol medication. And it’s kind of like golf in that you take a strange sense of pride if your milligrams are lower than what they have to take.

Then they signed me up for a colonoscopy. It was not near as bad as some made it out to be, but just the same it won’t bother me not to wait another 10 years for round two of “here’s looking up your ole address”.

When I went for my five year annual check up I realized my wife had flanked me. Dr. Cox had been telling me for a year or so that I had sleep apnea and needed a sleep study. Like a well trained husband I ignored her diagnosis. So while at the doctor’s office herself one day she told our doctor about her diagnosis. So at my five year annual check up our doctor warned me about sleep apnea and recommended a sleep study. Realizing the two were in cahoots, I knew I was whipped. Two sleep studies later it was confirmed, I have sleep apnea.

The treatment for sleep apnea is a machine that blows air into a hose. This hose is hooked to a mask that has to be worn while you sleep. I got my device this week and it was a little like getting a new car. The saleslady proclaimed the wonders of the latest model, Model #9, like a car salesman. It’s sleek and shiny, looking somewhat like a Bose stereo. It has all the bells and whistles. The Swift FX mask, with pillows, has the latest comfort designs on the market. I thought about asking how many miles to a gallon (distilled water) it gets.

I have several friends that have these machines and mask to help them sleep. Some proclaim them the best thing since sliced bread, while some say they wouldn’t even make a good boat anchor. I must confess that while traveling with some of these fellows I have teased them about their bedtime accessories. They put on their mask, hook up their hoses and fire up the oxygen tank. They look like scuba divers getting ready for the big plunge. When bedtime rolled around for them I would howl “diver down” and chuckle as I crawled mask less into my bed.

Well those days of teasing my buddies are over. I have joined their ranks and from now on, Simply Put, it’s diver down for me too.
From the Front Porch: Coach said never tell anyone your problems to anyone…20% of them don’t care and the other 80% are glad you have them.

“Peach Run”

Last week’s column about Grandfathers had me thinking a lot about my family tree. And then last Tuesday I went to the grocery store and made my way to the produce section. A box was sitting on the floor and it quickly caught my eye. It was a box of peaches. But not just any peaches. It was a box of Chilton County peaches.

The roots of my family tree run deep in Chilton County (Alabama). My great great grandfather, Littleton M. Cox, moved his family there in 1870. Some contingency of our family has been there ever since. My folks left Chilton County and moved south of the border (Florida) in 1954. But they made regular trips back there to visit family. Growing up I can recall that any trip made during the summer meant the added treat of Chilton County peaches.

In my dad’s later years he began making a peach run each summer to Chilton County. It started out with a few baskets and each year the payload increased. By the end the payload was the bed of a truck full of peaches making their way back to the Sunshine State.

Upon seeing that box of peaches in the grocery store I picked out several and took them home to promptly devour them. One was sliced and eaten immediately. The others ended up in a cobbler. As usual they were delicious. Between that box of peaches and the reminiscing about my family, the light went on in my head. I realized that action was needed, and needed now. It was time for a mission. It was time for a peach run.

Contact was made on Thursday with my cousins Danny and Tim Carter, as well as my uncle Raymond Cox. Tim’s nephew works at a peach orchard and arrangements were made for five boxes of peaches to be ready for pick up Saturday morning. On Friday I called up my mom in Tallahassee and she accepted my spur of the moment invitation to join this mission.

The mission went off without a hitch. After picking up the peaches and short visits with my cousins, uncle and some of my mom’s family in Montgomery, we motored our way on back south of the border. Smokey and the Bandit would have been proud of this mission.

There’s an old country song that hails the wonders of home grown tomatoes. “Ain’t but two things money can’t buy, that’s true love and home grown tomatoes.” I don’t know of any songs about peaches but I do know that The Allman Brothers Band titled their 1972 album “Eat A Peach”. The Allman Brothers were southern rockers from Georgia and while Georgia peaches are okay, they don’t come close to Chilton County peaches. Simply Put, ain’t no peach like a Chilton County peach.

From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said the key to being a good manager is keeping the people who hate you away from the people who are undecided.

“Grandfathers”

Over the past few months I’ve had the pleasure of chatting several times with Bing Tyus about his grandfather, Tower Stevens (Yesteryear Bing Tyus – Part II). And this past Sunday I spent some time with Bing at the ole Stevens home place south of Graceville.

It is clear to me that Bing has a very special place in his heart for his granddad and the ole Stevens home place. I can see the sparkle in his eyes when he reminisces about the good times he spent with his grandfather and about his plans to return to the ole home place to live. I know that we are not supposed to be envious of other folks, but I must confess that I envy Bing and that sparkle in his eyes. You see while the Lord has blessed me in more ways than I can count, I never knew either one of my grandfathers. My mother’s father died almost 20 years before I was born. My father’s father died when I was one year old.

I have thought about this fact on more than one occasion and also the fact that none of my kids have known either of their grandfathers. Both my father and my wife’s father died before any of our kids were born. All this pondering also got me to doing a little digging in my family tree and what I found was alarming.

I can trace my paternal family tree back for six generations and my digging revealed that the last four generations have been deprived of knowing their respective grandfathers. I don’t know about the fifth and six generations, but I know for sure that neither I, my children, my father or my father’s father knew our paternal grandfathers. My Jackson County math tells me those four generations of not knowing their paternal grandfathers spans 120 years and counting.

While I don’t lose sleep over this, nor am I in counseling or on medication because of this fact, it is something that bothers me. And for several obvious reasons, I am hoping that this unfortunate trend doesn’t continue with my children’s kids. Both for my sake and their sake, I’m hoping to be the first Cox grandfather in a long time for the next generation of Cox kids.

Granddads are special and, as attested by the Bing Tyus Part II story, can have a life long impact on their grandchildren. They can have the kind of impact that leaves a sparkle in the grandchildren’s eyes when they talk about grandpa. If you have known your grandfather and have had that kind of relationship, you’ve been blessed. If not, like me and my children, we must settle for looking to the future. Simply Put, I hope the Lord lets me live long enough to break the past trend in my family and to be a “Tower Stevens” kind of granddad.

From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said the best armor is to keep out of range.

“A Tri-Athlete I Am Not”

After covering last year’s Freedom Springs Triathlon at Blue Springs I set a goal to do the race in 2010. Participants swim ¼ of a mile, bike 10 miles and then run 3.1 miles. I had done the race at age 35 and then again at age 45. So I figured that setting a goal to do it again at age 50 would be a good motivator to get me exercising.

I showed up ready to roll this past Monday morning. When I arrived I was once again reminded of several factors which clearly demonstrate that I would not be considered the prototype tri-athlete.

The first clue was my waist line. You don’t see very many overweight tri-athletes. Most tri-athletes aren’t packing any “love handles”. According to my doctor, and his weight charts, my love affair with food has put me squarely in the overweight category.

The second clue was my bicycle. Most tri-athletes showed up with these aerodynamic bicycles that are designed strictly for speed. I showed up with my cruising bike that features my number one cycling priority these days, an extra wide padded seat.

The third clue was my outfit and color scheme. Most tri-athletes wear a type of wet suit designed for swimming, biking and running. They look a little like the old spandex outfits and these “body gloves” leave nothing to the imagination. And for some reason almost all the outfits are black. I am not sure if black outfits make you faster, but I kept looking to see if Johnny Cash had made an appearance.

I will confess that I did have on a pair of these new fangled running undershorts. The label said they’re a large, but I looked like I’ve been poured into them. So I wore a swim suit over them so that folks wouldn’t talk about the old fat guy in the back of the pack. My color scheme was all wrong too. My swim suit was light blue and my biking/running shirt was yellow. So instead of a tri-athlete, I looked like I was a UCLA Bruin fan.

The last and most telling clue was my performance. I finished dead last. My final time of just over one hour and 59 minutes was slow enough that several gentlemen in their 70’s smoked me. And wouldn’t you know it, there was Royce Reagan capturing me on film for all eternity, crossing the finishing line in last place.

But for that last ½ mile of the run I switched my MP3 player to Lynard Skynard’s “Call Me The Breeze” and kicked it into high gear. So while my athletic ego didn’t get any boost and I won’t be appearing on any Tri-Athlete magazines covers, I did finish. And I did so without having to stop or walk. Simply Put, I accomplished my goal and, for me, that was what it was all about.
From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said the best way to always remember your wife’s birthday is to forget it once.

“Primitive”

On page B4 is a feature titled Out and About…Tugaloo Lake. This is a lake that my oldest son Taylor and I went camping at last weekend. As I indicate in the article, primitive means that your shelter is a tent and there is no electricity, water, bathrooms or anything remotely considered to be a modern convenience.

And of course without electricity, or a generator, that means no air conditioning or fans, which is tough for an old fat fellow like myself during the summer months. And I will acknowledge that my days of sleeping on the ground are long gone. An air mattress and air pump are at the top of my list of camping gear.

Every now and then folks will ask me why I still like to go on these trips. I must confess that on nights, like last Friday night, when I was sitting in my tent with a thunder storm brewing outside and the inside being somewhat of a sweat lodge, I even ask myself these questions.

But then the sun will come out the next morning, the sky turns blue and a beautiful day in the outdoors is had. The night comes and miraculously the humidity takes a short vacation. A camp fire is built along the edge of the river bank. A father and a son spend some down time along side a river’s edge with a camp fire. A working man gets away from all the phones, complaints, dead lines, projects and hassles that come with making a living.

It reminds me of the commercials. Like the one that says “It doesn’t get any better than this” or the one that list a price of various items and then on the last items list it as …priceless. We all need to find our ways to unwind, relax or just get away. And there are many different ways folks enjoy doing that. And roughing it is not the only way that I enjoy unwinding or relaxing.

But going on these periodic excursions of roughing it or primitive camping offer something to me that takes me back to my youth. That sense of getting outdoors, back to nature or that sense of exploration. I know that may sound silly to some folks but hey I’m a guy that loves to read about Lewis and Clark’s exploring the newly purchased Louisanna Territory in the early 1800’s. I am the guy, and apparently I’m not alone, that likes to watch all these survivor man shows even though about half of it is fake.

So if I take a trip every now and then that falls into the roughing it category, don’t think that I’ve lost my mind. Just know that for me, Simply Put, going primitive once in a while has it’s purpose for me.



From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said he is ready to christen anyone a true genius who can adjust the thermostat to suit his wife.

“Coming Home”

I’ve often heard it said, and you probably have to, that our young folks have to leave Jackson County to find good paying jobs. It is said, and it’s fairly accurate that our rural county does not have a lot of industry and that forces our young folks to have to move away to set up shop so to speak. In all of these comments and thoughts it is almost implied that to be “successful” one must move away from our fair little community.

I won’t dispute that well paying jobs or highly skilled industry are not in abundance in Jackson County. But in this week’s Times our Yesteryear feature is about a young man from our county who went off to school, got a law degree and has returned to Jackson County to hang out his shingle.

As I talked with Ladray Gilbert about why he chose to return to Jackson County it once again reminded me of the choices that we all have to make about where we are going to live our lives and what factors go into making those decisions.

It reminded me of that time in my life when I left Jackson County to live in far off Tallahassee. And while Tallahassee was a good place to live, for me and my wife it was not home. So after six years of city life we made the decision to move back home. That was almost 20 years ago. I know that Jackson County is not a perfect place and yes there are occasions when I allow my mind to wonder about how our lives would have been different if we had stayed in Tallahassee. But I know without any hesitation that it was the right decision for our family.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not knocking those folks that chose to leave and not return to live here for economic reasons. I have friends that likely would not be able to make the same kind of living in their chosen field if they lived in Jackson County. Some would not even be able to make any kind of living if they lived here. Moving home meant some sacrifices for us. My wife’s degree in Interior Design was almost useless in Jackson County. She had to work out of her field and while doing so went back to school to get a degree in counseling and psychology. My sacrifices were much less dramatic. I simply had to live without a good chicken wing restaurant and my USTA tennis league.

My point is that we all have choices to make and some have made the choice to move away while some of us have made the choice to live in Jackson County. So in my book you don’t have to leave Jackson County to make a living. Simply Put, a person can choose to stay or come home and still live the good life.



From the Front Porch: Coach said don’t corner something that you know is meaner than you.

“The Sea King Is Back”

In June of 1978 a major miracle occurred. Somehow, someway my 18 year journey through Jackson County’s school system culminated with my graduation from high school. My parents were so elated, or surprised, they asked what’d I like for a graduation present. I knew better than to ask for a new car, so instead I requested a boat.

My wish was granted when for $375 dollars my dad bought a used 14 foot aluminum Jon boat, complete with a trailer and 9 horse motor. The boat was made by Montgomery Ward and was called a Sea King. The motor was a 10 year old Wizard (Western Auto) and would shear a pin quicker if you sneezed wrong.

The ole Sea King wasn’t the fanciest boat around but it was mine and I was the Captain of the ship. Six years later I sold a motorcycle and bought a brand new 15 horse Evinrude motor. The ole Sea King still wasn’t fancy, but I had a ton of fun on that boat. Some of my fondest memories from that time in my life are associated with the ole Sea King.

A few years back though the ole Sea King started having some problems. The trailer needed a lot of work and the motor quit running. I neglected her and didn’t get her fixed. She sat patiently waiting for some attention. Well this past spring my oldest son Taylor requested and was granted permission to restore the Sea King to her original glory.

Time had not been on her side. In fact while it seemed like it she had only been out of commission a few years, a closer inspection revealed that the last boat sticker I bought was in 1995. And that closer inspection revealed extensive work that needed to be done on the boat, trailer and motor. I knew I didn’t have the time, skill nor willpower to get the job done. And I wasn’t sure if my son had what it took to get the job done either.

I must proudly say that not only did he have what it took to get the job done, the ole Sea King looks better than she ever did before. He completely refurbished the trailer, built new carpeted floor boards and mounted new seats for the boat. His proclamation that he was going to give the Sea King a camouflage paint scheme had me worried. But he did a great job and it has a matching camouflage gas can.

The boat motor, which wasn’t running 15 years ago, had become a Mecca for dirt dobbers. The mechanic said it was the worst he’d ever seen. It took him a while but he got that Evinrude running like a clock again. So if you are out and about and see a tan camouflage boat on the water, it just might be me or my son because thanks to him, Simply Put, the Ole Sea King is back in business.
From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said honesty pays, but apparently not enough for some people.

“The Wiz is Gone”

The world of sports, in fact the world for that matter, was saddened this past week with the passing of legendary former UCLA basketball coach John Wooden. Dubbed the “Wizard of Westwood” for how his squads absolutely dominated the game of college basketball for more than a decade, Wooden was a true winner both on and off the court.
His attributes on the court are astonishing.  As a player he led his high school team to a State Championship.  He led his Purdue Boilermakers to a college National Championship.  As coach at UCLA his teams set the high water mark, especially from 1964 – 1975.  In those 12 seasons they won 10 National Championships and went 339-22. 
But for many of us it was not just that he won but how he won.  He was not a coach that ranted and raved at his players like a Bobby Knight type coach.  He said there was no need to yell at young men or snatch them around.  His greatest motivator, he said, were the seats next to him on the bench.  He coached by respect and motivation not fear and intimidation.  Wooden won 10 National Championships, Knight won 3.  
If he was anything he was a man of integrity and principal.  When his big man, John Walton, proclaimed that it was his right to grow a mustache and long hair, which was against team rules, Wooden didn’t blow up at Walton.  But he didn’t back down either to arguably one of the best big men to ever play the game.  He calmly agreed with Walton that it was his right and he was welcome to exercise that right at any other team in the country.  Walton shaved the mustache and cut his hair.
One might think that as a youngster I would have disliked UCLA because they were always beating my favorite southern teams like Kentucky and North Carolina.  But they were a team that was hard not to like, in part because of their unselfish play.  But I became an even bigger fan of Wooden as an adult when I read several books about him and by him.        
When I began closing my weekly column 3 ½ years ago with humorous one liners I started with the mythical figure of Uncle Bob.  After reading a book by Wooden I decided to start rotating insightful one liners from the mythical figure “Coach.”  That was in honor of Coach Wooden and many of the one liners that I have used over the last 3 years are quotes from Coach Wooden.   
Simply Put, the Wiz is gone and we’ll never see another coach like him.  But we can all pay tribute to him by encouraging today’s coaches to deploy the John Wooden model for coaching.  And I will continue to pay tribute to him with thoughts “From The Front Porch” by Coach.     
            
From the Front Porch: Coach Wooden said talent is God given…be humble; conceit is self given…be careful.

“Help The Jays Take Flight”

This past Thursday night I had the privilege of being invited to sit in on a meeting of the Big Bend Baseball League.  (See Jump Starting The Jays on this page).  I say privilege because they thought enough of me to invite me to this meeting.  That plus the fact that Homer Hirt was there and any time I can spend time around an octogenarian I figure it’s a privilege.
The Big Bend Baseball league started several years ago and last year was the first year that Jackson County had a team.  For those not familiar with the league it is basically geared to young men ages 18-30 that enjoy still playing the game of baseball.  I say that age range simply because you have to be at least 18 to play and most men over 30 aren’t in much baseball shape anymore.  But if you are over 30 and can still play the game at a competitive level we’ll I’m sure they’ll give you a shot.
While the overall league has been very successful, our Jackson County Jays team has not prospered as some would have hoped.  Logic tells folks that with five high school baseball programs in the county, there ought to be an ample supply of young men that would like to play for the Jays.  Throw in a few from Chipola, a few that are home from college or have been out of school for a few years but still want to play and you’d think there would be no problem finding at least 9 guys to play on any given Sunday.
Some of the communities around Jackson County have been able to raise ball clubs without too many problems.  Calhoun (Horseman), Washington (Bruins), Liberty (Diamond Dawgs) and Chattahoochee (Red Birds) have had a lot of success in getting plenty of players to come out. If those communities can do it our community should be able to do it.  
My personal opinion is that the missing ingredient for the Jays right now is a coach.  What is needed is a former coach that still wants to be involved with the game.  Someone who can come out of retirement, so to speak, and has the experience of managing a team.  Maybe there is an ole ball coach sitting around that has fished all he wants to fish or has gardened all he wants to garden.  Heck if nothing else it might be a good excuse to tell the wife that her honey do list will just have to wait until fall (and cooler weather).
So if you are an ole ball coach looking for something to do, the Jays might just be your ticket.  If the Jays could get a coach, and the right coach, Simply Put, I think the Jays could take flight.  
       
From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said lettin’ the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin’ it back in.

“Back On The Sidelines”

This past Friday night I covered the Marianna football spring game against Northview. It was not unlike many other spring games that I have covered, with one exception. There patrolling the sidelines for the Bulldogs was an ole familiar face. John Donaldson, or J.D. as some call him, is back at Marianna High School and back coaching in the football program.

This ain’t J.D.’s first rodeo so to speak with Bulldog football. He was a fine player for the Bulldogs in his younger days and went on to play at Florida State. After graduating from college he returned to his alma mater for a long tenure as an assistant coach. He was coaching at Marianna during their big run (1996 -2000, that included four district championships, four straight years of making the FHSAA playoffs and a State Runner Up) under Greg Guy and continued on in his role as an assistant under Don Dowling.

For all the joy that comes with coaching, it also comes with low pay and a lot of long hours away from your family. Over the years the long hours and low pay often takes a toll on coaches. The fire in their eye that they had for coaching is often reduced, at best, to a smoldering ember. That is why you don’t see many old coaches around anymore. And it finally took a toll on J.D.. So a couple of years ago he left the school system and went to work in private industry.

I don’t know much about what type of work he did in private industry. I just know that many of us missed seeing him on the Bulldog’s sideline. So we greeted the news of his return to Marianna High and Bulldog football as welcomed news.

Friday night’s game was just a spring game, but J.D. was on patrol. When his offensive lineman did something good he was showering them with accolades. When they missed a block or used a wrong technique, he was showering them with instructions on what they need to be doing. And if he saw someone loafing he was chomping on their backside. Folks that’s what good coaching is all about and unless I’m badly mistaken, ole J.D. has the fire back in his eye.

I’m in the camp that says the Marianna football program will be better off with J.D. back. But even more importantly than the program, the young men that play for J.D. will be better men for having played for him. And I suspect that the late Coach Hud would join me in saying, Simply Put, it sure was good to see J.D. back on the sidelines. I betcha Coach Hud would say that is where J.D. belongs.


From the Front Porch: Coach said that the race not always goes to the swift but to those who keep on running.

“Tough Times Abound”

Several weeks ago I started to write a column about the fact that four families that I call friends had suffered major tragedies. For various reasons I did not write the column. Well in the last week two more families were hammered with devastating news. In less than two months I know six families that got devastating news about their young folks. That devastating news included two daughters / granddaughters that died, two sons/grandsons that died and two sons/grandsons that were arrested for pretty serious charges.

My heart goes out to these families. And it has left me and my family asking those all too familiar questions. Why? And what’s going on? It has also left me disheartened at times when I hear folks around me make statements about these situations that are careless, insensitive, flippant, cruel or downright wrong. So for the record, if you are around me and are thinking of making these kind of statements about these situations, do us both a favor and keep your opinions to yourself.

Maybe you’ve heard about these situations and before you know it find yourself thinking that surely these were bad kids from bad homes. Well get off your high horse and quit looking down your nose at folks. I know all six of these families and their children and guess what. They’re not any different than many of us. They all come from middle class homes and most had two loving parents. I guarantee you that every one of these young people had parents or grandparents that sit next to you in church, at a ball game or at a civic club.

Did some of these young people make some very poor choices or were they clearly in the wrong place at the wrong time? Yes. But that doesn’t give anyone the right to climb up on their high horse and spew venom from their tongues. And that is just what it is when they make their snide remarks, poison.

As I talked with a group of six men the other day about one of the recent tragedies, all six of us acknowledged that the same thing could have happened to anyone of us in our younger days. How true the old saying is “But for the Grace of God there go I.” Maybe some folks have lived just such a perfect life that none of these situations could have occurred for them or their families. Well good for you, but please keep your thoughtless comments to yourself. Better yet ask yourself if that is what Jesus would say in these situations. I suspect not.

Most of us live in the real world with real problems. And is sure hasn’t been easy lately. Simply Put, tough times abound. We all need to humble ourselves before God everyday, asking for the strength to carry on and to fill our cups with compassion.
From the Front Porch: Coach said Live Simple. Love Generously. Care Deeply. Speak Kindly. And leave the rest to God.

“The Grind”

It all begins around mid-August. Job #2 (radio/internet broadcasting) and Job #3 (Sports Editor at The Times) that I hold down kick into gear with the start of the school year. The fall sports season (August – November) includes a heavy dose of football at all levels along with high school volleyball, golf and cross country. Middle school football gets coverage too so I usually work four times a week during this stretch.
The winter sports season (November – February) brings on the onslaught of basketball season. Chipola trots out a men’s and women’s team the first part of November. Our county has four teams per high school when you count boys varsity & junior varsity squads along with girl’s varsity & junior varsity teams. Throw in about 8 middle school teams and that’s a whopping 26 basketball teams that deserve coverage. Toss in a wrestling program at Marianna and I usually work four times a week during November and December.
The spring sports season (February – May) includes a tough overlap of about three weeks when the basketball and baseball seasons overlap. Chipola baseball and softball throw out the first pitch in February and our county has 16 high school baseball and softball programs. The middle schools now play baseball and softball as well so there are a total of 26 programs that deserve coverage. The four track & field programs in the county deserve, and I tried to provide this year, just as much coverage as baseball and softball.
The Grind is in high gear from January through mid-May. With Chipola sports and high schools sport, and that tough overlap period, I normally work about five times per week. When the dust has settled on the school year, August – May, I have normally worked about 160 times with my newspaper and radio/internet broadcasting. And this is on top of holding down a full time job, being a husband and father.
I know some folks might not care about “The Grind” or might say that there is an easy solution to “The Grind,” just quit. Others might say I chose to accept Job #2 and Job #3, so quit complaining or at least don’t use my column to complain. If they say that they would be totally misunderstanding the point of my column.
For as tough as “The Grind” is, I still enjoy what I do with the paper and on the radio/internet. So I’m not complaining, but rather I am celebrating. My writing this column is not so much for you the reader but more so for me. Simply Put, “The Grind” is over for another school year. I can recharge my batteries for the next three months and get ready for another school year. Meantime, bring on the summer, Yesteryear and Rollin’ Down The River.
From the Front Porch: Coach said you cannot unsay a cruel word.

“Names”

After almost 20 years of sports broadcasting surely I have heard and pronounced, or mispronounced, just about every name imaginable. I still remember my first broadcast with my buddy Russell Register back in December 1990. It was a basketball game between Marianna and Walton County. The Braves had a pair of twins on the team that were obviously of Polish ancestry. I was already nervous enough, but trying to pronounce their names was more than I could handle. By the end of the game I was simply calling the pair by their first names.
Over the years I have continually been surprised to see, and then have to learn, names that I have never seen before. I’d like to think that I have gotten better at pronouncing the names but I will tell you that some sports, like girl’s basketball, still routinely present a challenge.
As our broadcast crew (myself, Russell, Sandy Westmoreland and Mike Miller) drove down last week to Auburndale for the FCCAA State Softball tournament numerous topics were discussed. During a discussion about major league baseball I jokingly professed my disdain for Japanese baseball players. I told them my disdain is not about their playing ability, but rather about the difficulty in trying to pronounce their names. We all had a good laugh and drove on.
Upon arrival at the state tournament, the Executive Director of Deep South Sports Broadcasting (Russell Register) assigned me to do all the Miami Dade broadcast. He figured that with my marriage to a lady of Hispanic decent and my travels last summer in Nicaragua, I was the best suited to handle all the Hispanic names of the Miami-Dade roster. No problem I said.
A quick glance at the Miami Dade roster had me shaking my head in disbelief. Who would ever figure four Japanese Brazilians were on the team. There last names were spelled Miyahira, Suetsugu, Fukunishi and Morimoto. I went to their coach for help with the names. He barely spoke English, so he sent me to the assistant coach. She spoke English but with a Spanish accent as thick as a brick. She did the best she could and so did I. I then wrote their names as much as I could like they were pronounced. They came out something like this: Me–yah-hair-uh, Sweat-sue-goo, Fu-ka-knee-chee and More-e-moto.
With the fast paced game of softball, just imagine my North Florida drawl trying to spit out “ground ball to Sweat-sue-goo, she throws over to Fu-ku-knee-chee and she comes home to More-e-moto”. The folks from Miami Dade that watched on the internet are probably still trying to figure out which mountain I came down from. I know one thing, no more joking about Japanese names. Simply Put, I can always count on a few names just around the corner to keep me humble.
From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said if you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin’.

“Ole Dogs”

I was honored last week to be invited to a gathering of a bunch of Ole Bulldogs. (See page three of sports for photos). This is a yearly gathering that takes place at McMullian Farms in Dellwood. Andy and Amos McMullian, a couple of Ole Dogs, are gracious to open up this homestead to what amounts to a reunion for former Marianna High School students and athletes that graduated in the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s. I’m an Ole Bulldog myself, just not quite that old of an Ole Bulldog. But I, along with my wife and mother, get an invite because my dad was one of this gang’s favorite coaches. So while he can’t be there, we do our best to fill in for him. And I suspect that The Times feature “Yesteryear” keeps me in pretty good standing with most of these folks. This was my second time attending and I don’t mind saying that I thoroughly enjoy these gathering of Ole Bulldogs. And of course some mighty fine fried fish, hushpuppies and cheese grits don’t hurt my feelings either. With my work in the newspaper and on the radio I have been somewhat a student and collector of information about the history of Bulldog athletics. I have a copy of every football section of the Marianna yearbook dating back to the 1940s. Except for a couple of years in the 1930s, I have a notebook that has team records, players, coaches etc on every football team in Bulldog football history. And I grew up hearing the stories from the likes of my dad, Harry Howell and Mack Rooks about all the great athletes that came along in the 40s, 50s and 60s. So to be able to mingle with these folks is not just fun, it is a privilege and an honor. For example, I have heard and read many stories about a standout football and basketball player from the early 50s by the name of named Jackie Finlayson. Mack Rooks, Frank Rooks, Jack Brown and others have sung his praises over the years. But I had never met him. I looked up the other night and there he was, sitting at a table talking to Ms. Elrod. I introduced myself and took his picture. I suspect he had no idea how much I enjoyed finally meeting him. To do what I enjoy doing, i.e. the newspaper and radio, and to hear some of the stories from these Ole Bulldogs is invaluable to me. Not just from an enjoyment standpoint, but also from the standpoint of learning as much as I can about the history of Bulldog athletics. I could sit and listen to their stories about games won and games lost all night long. I hope we keep getting an invite to this yearly gathering. Simply Put, it’s hard to beat good fried fish and even better some of that good Ole Bulldog fellowship.
From the Front Porch: Coach said it don’t take a very big person to carry a grudge.

“Track – Part II”

I wrote last week about why covering track and field sports in the county has been tough. One of the reasons that I listed was because all of the track meets are held outside of Jackson County. I was surprised to learn recently that the reason there are no track meets within Jackson County’s borders is that there is no full fledge track complex at any of our high schools.

Even with as little as I know about the sport of track and field, I am amazed that a county with four varsity track and field teams has no full fledged track complex. Several have a track around the football field, but I’ve come to learn that a track around the football field is far from having a full fledge track complex. That is kind of like saying we have a backstop and four bases so therefore we have a baseball field.

The closest thing to a real track complex is located at the new Marianna High School around the football/soccer/band practice field just east of the school. The track is new and is one of the modern “rubberized” surfaces. The first thing that I’ve learned about track recently is that they no longer run on dirt or concrete. The new surfaces are some type of composite material that has a spongy feel to it.

But even the new track is lacking in many respects. While they have just recently added a pole vaulting pit, there is still no long ump, triple jump or high jump stations at the complex. There are no stations for the discus or shot put events and the program does not have any hurdles.

Not having a full fledge track complex hurts in two ways. First for the athletes they really can’t get the needed practice time in some of these more specialized events. That makes their success in the recent district meets even more amazing. There are a total of 51 track and field athletes from our county that placed high enough in their district meets to advance to the regional meet in Jacksonville this Friday. That’s not bad not have a full fledge track complex in the county.

Secondly it means that you really can’t host a track meet in the county because other teams from around the panhandle don’t want to come to a meet that does not field the full slate of events. So our athletes from the county must continually travel out of the county for track meets, using up more of their time and our tax dollars for travel cost.

I am hoping that the powers to be recognize that the lack of a track complex in the county should be addressed and rectified. I know I closed with this same line last week but, Simply Put, our county’s track athletes and coaches deserve it.

From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said you think you are a person of influence, just try ordering someone else’s dog around.

“Track – Part I”

I have a confession to make. I have been the Sport’s Editor at The Times for over 3 ½ years now. I’ve gotten a few pot shots for not covering a few events but overall most of the comments I get are very favorable. But I must admit that during these 3 ½ years my coverage of this county’s high school track programs has been, at best, poor. There are several reasons as to why the coverage has been poor.

(1) Track season occurs in the spring and coincides with the stick and ball sports of softball and baseball seasons. There are five varsity softball teams and five varsity baseball teams in the county. Throw in Chipola’s baseball and softball squads and I am busting my backside trying to cover those twelve teams.

(2) Track meets are tough to cover in that they are very long and are very spread out. A typical track meet will last a minimum of four hours and can go as long as six to eight hours. And there are multiple events going on at one time. So while a race is taking place, the high jump and shot put may also be taking place at the same time, all in different locations of the field.

(3) The four county varsity track teams (Marianna, Cottondale, Graceville & Sneads) don’t go to many of the same track meets. This would make it much

easier to cover all the county teams. Last Wednesday in Wewahitchka was the first and only time this season in which all four county varsity track squads participated in the same meet.

(4) All of the track meets are held outside of Jackson County and I try not to travel outside the county very much to cover sporting events. The reason there are no track meets within Jackson County’s borders is that there is no full fledge track complex at any of our high schools. (See next week’s column, Track – Part II, for more on this subject)

While in my book these are valid reasons for the poor coverage, the reality is that they are just excuses on my part. The five varsity track squads, along with a solid track program at Grand Ridge Middle School, amounts to more than 100 county athletes. Those athletes work just as hard as any other sport in practicing and preparation for the meets. They experience the same highs and same lows as any other athlete. So they should be recognized in the same fashion as the stick and ball sports (that’s a nickname for traditional sports such as football, basketball. Baseball and softball).

I’ve been trying to do better this season and I hope page three of sports this week (Freeze Frame) is another step in the right direction. Simply Put, our county’s track athletes and coaches deserve it.

From the Front Porch: Coach said our actions are the springs of our happiness or misery.

Power to The Paddle

I’ve had several folks comment on my column last week regarding the issue of not allowing motorized boats to put in on the Chipola River in the new Greenway parks. As you may recall I support the city and county’s efforts to make the launches in these greenway parks designed for non-motorized vessels like canoes and kayaks. Some folks whole heartedly agreed with me and some thought that I surely must have hit myself in the head with one of my paddles.

Most of the folks that prefer gas powered boats can whip out the reasons they prefer a motorized boat over a canoe/kayak quicker than they fire up their Evinrude. That got me to thinking about the advantages that a canoe/kayak offer over motor boats. So in the interest of countering the motor boat folks (and maybe even sway one or two toward a canoe/kayak) I thought I would list the following reasons I like a canoe/kayak over a motor boat:

 No boat trailer is required

 Easy to launch and load

 Quiet, tranquil and relaxing

 Good exercise

 See more wildlife

 Reach hard to get places

 Better for the environment

 No noise, exhaust,
gas/oil slicks

 Basically maintenance free

 Easy to store

 Cost less to buy

 Cost less to operate

 No gas/oil required

 No boat trailer tag required

 No boat registration required

 No boat motor repairs

 Won’t break down on you

These are just a few of the advantages and of course, like anything, there are some disadvantages. The required portage for vehicles and the perceived limitations on water travel are the most common cited. The most valid disadvantage I’ve heard is from a motor boat friend of mine who said it is just too hard to urinate from a canoe or kayak.

Well folks, the weather is finally getting right. So, Simply Put, do yourself and the river a favor. Leave the cover on that ole motor boat, grab a paddle along with a canoe or kayak and head to the river.



From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said if you’re in a bad situation, Don’t worry, it’ll change. If you’re in a good situation, Don’t worry, it’ll change.

“To Paddle or To Motor – That is the Question”

I, like most of you, enjoy reading “Getting It Right” by my friend and Times Managing Director Sid Riley. And more often than not I am in agreement with Sid. But in last week’s rudiments he commented on his disapproval of the “Greenway” project plans along the Chipola River to use taxpayer money to build public boat ramps that would be designed for canoes and kayaks only.

I suspect that Sid is not alone in his opinion that this is unfair, or even illegal, to use taxpayer money on boat ramps that restricts access to folks with motorized boats. It may come as no surprise to some that I would support the efforts to make these launches for non-motorized vessels.

Greenway projects are a popular way in which city and county governments can tap into state and federal grant money (our tax dollars) to preserve areas just such as that along the Chipola River. The greenway projects are designed to allow for low impact public use of the area.

Canoe and kayaks are in keeping with this low impact concept. Gas powered motor boats are not. Canoes and kayaks don’t pollute. Gas powered motor boats do. Want proof. Just spend a few minutes trailing a gas powered motor boat on the river. It’s kind of like when we used to run behind the city truck that sprayed for mosquitoes. And long after the boat is gone the exhaust hovers over the water like fog. Just check out when the gas powered motor boat puts in and takes out. It usually produces an oil slick that would make the Exxon Valdez proud.

I am not proposing that gas powered motor boats be banned from the river. I know that is not realistic. And I’m sure just how much real damage is caused by gas powered motor boats could be debated. But even a little bit of pollution is not good.

Another argument is that gas powered motor boats would not actually be denied access to these areas. For example, they can put in at Yancey Bridge and motor down or put in at Magnolia Bridge and motor up. They can be in the greenway areas in a matter of a few minutes.

As to the legality of the issue, there is already some precedent. Walking, hiking, jogging and bicycle trails are routinely established with tax payer money in parks and nature preserves. These trails favor one segment of the population to the detriment of another, as in they do not allow access by motorized devices such as four wheelers and motorcycles.

So at the risk of having all the motorized boat folks and bream fishermen (armed with their propellers and fishing hooks) out to get me, I applaud the city and county planners for their initiatives. To borrow a line from Sid, Simply Put, I think they are Getting It Right. Let’s go paddling.

From the Front Porch: Uncle Bob said that by the time you have money to burn, the fire has about gone out.

“Debunking Global Warming”

You need not go any further in looking for scientific proof that global warming is a farce. I have absolute scientific proof that there is no truth what so ever in this hypothesis. I know that Al Gore and his gang have been flying all around the world with their power point presentations demonstrating that global warming is for real. And yes I know that some folks have ditched the global warming title and come up with “climate change.” Whatever.

Without any further ado, I’ll tell you how I have concluded global warming is a hoax. With the conclusion of basketball season I have now been attending area high school baseball and softball games. If anybody believes in global warming, they sure haven’t been to any ball games lately. I haven’t seen any evidence of global warming at the games I’ve been attending. All I’ve seen are folks wrapped up in warm coats and blankets.

Apparently when all the high school administrators and coaches got together many years ago to decide where the best place to put their baseball and softball fields, they all decided to put them in the coldest places in Jackson County. Half of the fields are in some type of depression or sunken area. This ensures that the temperature is a good five degrees colder than the surrounding area and that the cold air will hover like a space craft over the field. The other half are out in wide open spaces where a good 40 mile an hour breeze always reminds me that I should have left the windbreaker at home and brought the heavy parka.

Something has happened in my lifetime that I can’t figure out. When we used to play baseball it was always hot. I must confess I didn’t play baseball in high school, but I used to go to their games and I don’t remember it being cold. Regardless, I am thoroughly convinced that when Alexander Cartwright invented the game of baseball back in 1845, he meant for it to be played in warm weather.

When me and my good buddy Russell Register decided to try broadcasting Marianna baseball back in the early 90’s we envisioned sitting outdoors with our short britches and flip flops calling a game. That’s how we recalled listening to Skip Carey and the gang call the Atlanta Braves games back in the 80’s. We’d sit out by my trailer in our summer attire, fire up the grill and listen to the Braves on the radio.

We could not have been anymore wrong. There were no short britches and flip flops for Bulldog baseball. We ended up in the shivering in the back of my pick up truck, wrapped up in blankets as we announced the games.

But alas, they say spring time is coming. Simply Put, it can’t get here to soon for me. I’m ready for some warm weather baseball.



From the Front Porch: Coach said time is the one thing you can never get back.

Hughes Carries On

An ole Marianna boy was back in town this week as Bobby Hughes, Head Baseball Coach at Coosa Valley High School, brought his Rebels to town during their spring break to take on some of our local teams (See related article on this page). Seeing Bobby patrol the dugout and third base box got me to thinking, and you know when I get to thinking a column is usually soon to follow.

Bobby is just one in a long line of Hughes that have excelled while wearing the purple and gold of the Marianna High School Bulldogs. If my calculations are right, there has been at least one Hughes that has been involved in Marianna athletics in every decade since the 1950’s. That’s at least 60 years of the Hughes family in Bulldog sports.

Bobby was an excellent football player. As a wide receiver he hooked up with QB Tim Daniels to form one of the best passing combos in Bulldog football history. He knew what to do on the defensive side as well at his safety position, picking off 4 passes in one game which tied a state record.

Of course being a Hughes he was a fine baseball player as well. And after high school he played at Chipola and University of Auburn Montgomery. Since graduating from college he has been in the coaching profession. This is his first year at Coosa Valley, which is southeast of Birmingham.

This is not the first time he has brought his teams through this area on their spring break, but this year’s trip was different from any of his previous trips. During the past year Bobby’s mother Peggy passed away. Add to that, his aunt June Hughes also passed away during the same time span. He has dedicated this season to his mom and no doubt still grieves her passing.

As I watched him coach Monday night I recalled the times I enjoyed watching him haul in a pass reception or stroke a hit on the baseball diamond. He seemed to be a typical carefree teenager who loved playing sports. He is now a 36 year old man, who’s learning to deal with the death of a parent. As many of us know, losing a parent is one of the most difficult things we will ever face. Life is just never quite the same after you lose a parent.

But I am of the opinion that sports can help us through the tough times. We learn through sports that we will have some bad times. And in the bad times we can do one of two things. We can give up and quit, or we can get back up and carry on. But by all appearances he is carrying on and doing what he loves, and that is coaching baseball. And Simply Put, I suspect that is just what his mother would want him to do.



From the front porch: Uncle Bob said baseball is like church. Many attend but few understand.

“Good Job Chipola”

We all know that winning is no problem and that it is easier to show some class when you win as opposed to showing that same amount of class when you lose. And we all know that folks in the community are eager to lend you a hand when you are winning but sometimes not so eager when their squad is on the losing side.

This past weekend Chipola College played host to the FCCAA / NJCAA Region 8 Basketball Tournament. The folks from Chipola have been doing this for more than 10 years now and it has become old hat for them. Not that there is any less work to be done,but they’ve got it down now and know how to run a first class tournament.

But this year’s tournament had a different twist. For the first time in eight years there was no Chipola squad in the tournament. The men and women’s squads have been regular attendees the past 8 years and have won their fare share of the tournaments. But no one stays on top forever and this year saw both the men and women’s squads finding the going rough in conference play.

So it would have been real easy for the hundreds of local folks that are needed to pull off a tournament of this magnitude to just say no thanks or I’ll pass. It would only be human nature to be less enthused about spending 12 hour days at a four day tournament when your local team’s uniforms are all tucked away and waiting for next season.

But that is not at all what happened as our community turned out in full force. Oh to be sure there was a tinge of disappointment that surfaced periodically. But that did not seem to damper folks willingness to put in the long hours to make this tournament another great success. I heard one of the athletic directors from one of our conference rivals make the comment that it is a tribute to the folks of Chipola and this community to work just as hard to put on a first class tournament, even though their teams weren’t playing.

Now some folks might not give a hoot about a basketball tournament of this nature being in our community. Well just ask the folks that run our local restaurants, convenience stores, lodging facilities and etc. They’ll let you know right quickly that we need these types of events, especially in these economic hard times.

I’ve often written about different times and events that make me proud to say that I was born and raised in this community and am proud to be living out my days right here in little ole Jackson County. So, Simply Put, good job Chipola and Jackson County for putting on another outstanding tournament. And I suspect Coach J would be right proud.



From the front porch: Coach said that happy is the one who learns to bear that which they can not change.

“Protecting The Ole Chipola”

Last Thursday night I attended a meeting held by the County Parks Administrator Chuck Hatcher about the Chipola River Greenway Trails. (See related article on this page). The whole plan sounded great to me and of course got me to thinking. And you know that is always dangerous.
There has been a series on PBS recently about our national parks system. The series is really interesting and documents the efforts of some of the early innovators in regards to setting aside land for preservation and public use. There are two early names that stood out, John Muir and Teddy Roosevelt. I’d heard of Roosevelt but not of Muir. They had this crazy idea to preserve areas like Yosemite Valley and Yellowstone as national parks. For those of us who have grown up with state and national parks abounding, that idea doesn’t sound crazy. But more than 100 years ago it was a radical idea and there were many who opposed such a notion. They said all land should belong to private citizens or corporations and be used as the land owners see fit.

Fortunately the folks like Muir and Roosevelt won out and thus we have the National Parks System that preserves many pristine areas of our country. From that concept came the State Parks systems that went even further to preserve our natural wonders. Just image what would have happened to these areas if left to private citizens or corporations to develop.

My good friend and Times Editor Sid Riley likes to jam the government folks for interfering too much in our daily lives. And there are plenty of times when he is “Getting It Right”. But there are times where government needs to step in and protect us and/or the environment. Private citizens and corporations are too often motivated by how much money can be made and the havoc they reek through over development can be devastating.

What’s that got to do with the Ole Chipola? Well we are fortunate that we have some folks in our city and county governments with the foresight to protect this little jewel right here in our back yard. Most folks may not realize this but in the first 10 miles or so of the Chipola, there is not a single house on the river. On the next 8 miles or so there are only two houses. That’s about 18 miles of river and just 2 houses. In this day and time that is almost unheard of. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not opposed to folks having houses on the river. In fact I wouldn’t mind one myself. But if we don’t set aside some areas of the river for preservation, our future generations will not be able to see the Ole Chipola in her true beauty. So, Simply Put, keep up the good work city and county administrators. You’re getting’ it right.



From the front porch: Uncle Bob said that he is in excellent shape…given that round is a shape.

“Good Year For Boy’s Basketball”

Jackson County has long been known for outstanding high school basketball programs. The 2009-10 season has come to a close and it’s been another fine year, especially on the boy’s side. Now some naysayers might point out that we have no boy’s squad going to Lakeland to compete for a state championship, so maybe it’s been an off year.

If they said that they would be flat wrong. All five of the county’s boy’s basketball season had outstanding seasons. Two of the teams, Marianna and Malone won 20 or more games. That has always been a bench mark for an outstanding season. Graceville was not far behind as they won 19 games. Sneads won 17 and Cottondale won 16. That’s 97 wins for five clubs and I suspect there are not a lot of years when all five clubs won 16 games or more. In all, the combined for the five teams is 97 wins and 40 losses.

Those naysayers might saw that we only had two district championships and only three of the five teams made the playoffs. Those naysayers might point out that there have been some years where the county had 3 or four district championships and all five teams made the playoffs. Well that just was not likely to happen this year and probably won’t happen next year.

Every two years the FHSAA remakes the classifications and districts. With the most recent changes three of the county’s five teams ended up in the same district (Cottondale, Sneads and Graceville). That automatically means that at least one won’t make the playoffs. Throw in the fact that they were in an 8 team district and that makes the case tough for the remaining two teams. Only Graceville survived district tournament and they did so as the district champ.

Malone got a new district as well and their new district included FAMU. The Tigers beat the Baby Rattlers twice during the regular season but fell in overtime in the district title bout. That put them on the road against a good Paxton squad that eliminated them from the playoffs.

Marianna also got a new district but they did not let it faze them. Their district included six teams and the Bulldogs went unbeaten in the district during the regular season. They then swept through the district tournament to claim a district championship. But with the reclassifications East Gadsden and Rickards both dropped from 4A to 3A. Both are much larger schools and both stood between Marianna and a third straight trip to Lakeland. While the Bulldogs dominated East Gadsden (see story on page three of sports) Rickards proved to be another matter and the Bulldogs season came to a close on Tuesday night.

So to any potential naysayers about this year’s basketball class, go bark up some other tree. Simply Put it was another outstanding year for hoops in Jackson County.



From the front porch: Coach said it’s not the falling down that matters. It’s the getting up that counts.