Off Mic by Matt Markus

Don't tell Urlacher

2011-01-24T10:06:00.000-08:00

Maurice Jones-Drew and I finally have something in common - Brian Urlacher doesn't like what we have to say about his quarterback. I haven't pretended to be a doctor since I was in college so I don't know for a fact whether or not Jay Cutler was seriously injured during Sunday's NFC title game, but I wanted to see more of him. I wanted to see more out of him.

In the coming days, or so, I assume we'll hear what really went down in the locker room and sidelines of Soldier Field but until that happens, we are left to speculate. I would never wish major injury on anybody but unless an MRI shows significant ligament damage or something similar, I don't know that there would be anything that would satisfy our questioning. It was the NFC Championship game, a trip to Dallas on the line, you need to be out there on the field.

Phillip Rivers played in a title game with a torn ACL. Hell, even Donovan McNabb finished out a game with a fractured leg. Now, I'm not going to say that he should have played on a significant injury but I didn't see that he even wanted to play. And maybe that's where I see the biggest issue. Argue with Mike Martz and Lovie Smith. Tell them that you "need to be in this fucking game!" Throw a water bottle, kick something, I don't care, but show me that YOU do. Show me that you care that you can't be in there. Maybe all of that happened in the locker room. I don't know. But since the majority of the people can only see what's on TV, you need to make sure it plays out on TV. Don't worry, the cameras will find you. If the equipment manager comes to hide your helmet so you can't get back in, the cameras will catch your argument. Troy Aikman would tell a story about when the same things happened to him in Dallas and he'd say that he hopes most of America can't read lips after your profanity-laced argument but we'd all see how much you want to be out there with your team.

Jay Cutler knows his body, he says. He knows when enough is enough. To a certain extent I believe that. He couldn't pinpoint the exact time when his knee started hurting though, he just knew it was some time in the first half. If it was a serious injury, don't you think you'd remember the play. You'd remember who hit you, when it happened and how much it hurt? Your knee hurts, OK. Suck it up and get out there. It comes down to this - was he injured or hurt? If you are injured, then get some ice, get a set of crutches and cheer on your boys. If you are hurt, get some ice, get a set of balls and get out there with your boys.

If he can't go, whether his call or the team doctor's I get that. But I need to see that he wants to be out there and I need to see why he can't be out there. Just saying that he is out with an apparent knee injury doesn't do anything for me. If I'm a Chicago fan, I'm pissed off today. The defense did enough to keep them in the game, and some dude named Caleb lead them on 2 scoring drives. Would Cutler have done better? I don't know. He's good for a few INTs so maybe he throws the decisive pick-six anyway. But despite horrible mechanics that I've never trusted, I still think that Jay Cutler, even at 75% is a better option than the other 2.

I don't have a problem with Brian Urlacher sticking up for his teammate. I respect that a lot. I would expect nothing else from a classy guy like Urlacher. But at the end of the day, when he looks back on yesterday I would expect Brian himself to be thinking that they were 30 minutes away from the Super Bowl, down only 2 scores. I expect him to think about what it would take to get himself out of the game. I don't expect him to ever say it publicly, but deep down Brian Urlacher is thinking the same thing - I can't believe they label a torn vagina as a knee injury in the NFL.

"I didn't expect that" On Ice

2010-02-22T10:26:00.000-08:00

Unbelievable? Yes. Unexpected? Yes. Miracle? Not even close.

For everything that last night's hockey game between Team USA and Team Canada was, miraculous was not one of them. So our team of professionals went into their country and beat their team of professionals and we're supposed to call it a miracle? Basically for one night, at least, our millionaires were better than their millionaires.

I understand why everyone wants to hop on the "Miracle" bandwagon. As I sit and type, it is literally the 30th Anniversary of the US over the Soviets in Lake Placid. We all get caught up in the memory so we try to project that upon what we witnessed last night. Back in 1980, Team USA was made up of college amateurs. Team USSR was the Red Army, highly skilled professionals who lived hockey and their dominance over the decades proved that. Just a few weeks before, the Soviets destroyed Team USA on our own turf and were expected to do so again in Lake Placid. Throw in the backdrop of the Cold War and the movie writes itself. Where does last night compare?

Canada is favored to win the Gold. News Flash... they still can. It was in Canada. OK, Canada beat the US in the Gold Medal Game in 2002... in UTAH... and that wasn't seen as a Miracle. But the US hasn't beaten the Canadians in the Olympics in 50-plus years. True... but the Olympics don't happen every year so when you break it down, the US was only 0-5-1 in that span, hardly Notre Dame over Navy.

It was a great game. It was exciting as hell. When the last goal crossed into the empty net, I jumped off the floor and did some sort of tae-bo exercise celebration, but it was far from miraculous. It wasn't even for a medal. If the US comes out and loses in the quarterfinals and leaves Vancouver without a medal how much will last night mean? That's not to take anything away from last night. The United States showed that they can play with Canada and effectively showed that they can play with anyone in the world. It sure made me proud but not once did I think it came close to 1980.

Last time I checked, we played our friends to the North, not the Taliban. And I'm pretty sure that Bin laden hasn't been training his men and dominating the hockey landscape for the better part of a decade only to fall to us on the Olympic Stage. Unless I missed all of that somehow, quit with the Miracle II talk. I realize that 2010's Ryan Suter is the son of Bob Suter from 1980 and that this year's team has a Ryan Callahan and 1980 had a Jack O'Callahan and that Brooks Orpik was named after Herb Brooks, but seriously, the comparisons should end there.

Last night was a great win and hopefully another step on the return to the medal stand. But 1980 was a moment in time that should stand alone. Not even Tiger Woods transcended the game like that group of kids that shocked the world. To even try to compare anything to that diminishes what they did.

I will say this, though. There is a comparison to make from last night to 1980. Some people will look back to 1980 as the birth of the USA USA chant that echoed through that arena. Last night it echoed again, on Canadian soil, on Facebook and in bars and living rooms all throughout the country. None of the talk was about brakes or healthcare or affairs. There weren't red states and blue states. There was only red, white and blue states. For the first time in a long time, the country came together.

Do you believe in miracles?

10 Years later: A Remembrance

2010-01-18T18:43:00.001-08:00

As I sit down to write, I try in vain to remember what I did just 10 days ago. It was a Friday, so I assume I went to the office, did the radio show at the smoke shop and saw Lynn, but even though it was only 10 days ago, the details are just not there in my mind. And yet at the same time, I can recall vivid details of a night 10 years ago. I guess it's pretty easy when it is a night that changed my life forever.

Ten years ago tonight into the wee hours of the morning, I slept through and escaped the fire at Seton Hall University. It was my school. It was my building. And it was my floor: the Third Floor of Boland Hall. It was a night of firsts for me and sadly a night of lasts, including the last breaths for three of my classmates.

The night before was one of the first big basketball wins of my college life. I couldn't make it because of a night class but I followed along as Sammy Dalembert and company defeated a tough St John's team in a pivotal game en route to an NCAA berth. Later in the evening, I had one of the best talks ever with my roommate. Brendan and I had lived together for four months or so but that night for some reason we ended up having a great conversation. I remember staying up until 3AM talking about anything and everything in a great "getting to know you" moment. An hour and a half later we were awake again.

The fire alarms started going off sometime around 4:30 or so. Brendan and I both acknowledged the noise with the obligatory swear word and pulled the pillows over our heads. It was a cold January morning and there was no way we were going outside. You see, a month earlier during final exam week, we had close to 50 false alarms as pranksters put in the finishing touches of their frat pledging. We slept through the alarms in the past, we would do it again. Or so we thought. When the sounds of the alarm became drowned out by the sounds of running and screaming, we knew it was time to leave. When I opened the door to a wave of smoke, we knew it was time to leave NOW. After a few hours of being bounced around from building to building, I finally settled in to my home away from home. Being a work study in the Communication Department gave me a set of keys so while the entire freshman class sat in the cold cafeteria, Brendan and I set off for the TV Studio. It was surreal to turn on the News and see a live chopper shot of the building that I was sleeping in only a few hours before. It was alone in this room, while Brendan slept on a couch nearby, that I learned that this fire was fatal. This nightmare was real.

I was fortunate, though. All of my friends were accounted for and with the exception of a little smoke inhalation, I was fine. We were allowed back into the building after a week and after a few loads of laundry you could barely make out the smell of smoke. Let me correct that statement. Physically I was fine. Emotionally, I would never be the same.

It was sometime during the week that I was home, I found myself in my grandparents' kitchen reading the newspaper. It was in this particular edition that I saw a detailed map of the third floor and where the fire took place. It wasn't until this moment that I realized that I very possibly had been saved by a door. Boland Hall was made up of two wings that were connected by the Bridge, a short hallway and dorm rooms. At one end of the Bridge was the lounge, where three couches were engulfed in flames that measured close to 1500 degrees within five minutes. At the other end of the bridge was a door, and just outside of that door was the door to my room - 323 South Boland Hall. I don't consider myself having a near death experience. I never thought of myself in grave danger, even as I exited the building in a thick fog of smoke. But as I looked at the map, and realized our close proximity, it definitely made me think, especially when I saw that at least one of the young men who died was actually further away then I was. What if my room was on the other side of the door? What if that door wasn't there? Not a day has gone by that I haven't thanked God for something as simple as a door.

At the end of the day, I am just one of the hundreds of people who made it out all right. Sure, within a day I was in the hometown paper and on the Evening news but my story is not a special one. But my story allows me to tell the tale of Frank and Aaron and John, who weren't fortunate enough to tell their own story. My story allows me to honor the countless heroes that night, from emergency personnel to school staff to fellow students who did their part to help.

I think about the events of that night on a daily basis. I think about the hell my parents went through when they couldn't get in touch with me for hours. I think about the hours I spent in the police station reliving every detail. My story was so accurate that years later I was scheduled to be a key witness in the trial. Luckily the 2 accused copped a plea before it went to trial, so I was spared the anguish of reliving it yet again in court. They were given a maximum of 5 years in prison for their crimes. You would think that 3 dead, 58 injured and hundreds of lives changed forever would be worth more than that but this blog isn't long enough to dissect the workings of the judicial system.

A few years after the fire, I heard a student complain about a fire drill the night before. It kept her outside for a good hour, she said. I really had no patience for that and I told her as bluntly as possible that I didn't want to hear it. I once had a fire drill that kept me outside for a week, and three of my classmates never made it back inside.

So on the 10th Anniversary of that fateful night, I will do my three shots, as I have done every year since. And I will think about Frank and Aaron and John and all those affected by the events of that night. And I will do the only thing that I can do - I will REMEMBER.

Fall from grace

2009-12-19T11:02:00.000-08:00

"I'm not a role model. Just because I can dunk a basketball doesn't mean I should raise your kids." ~ Charles Barkley

Perhaps the Round Mound of Rebound was right all along. It's not up to him or other athletes to set the tone for the youth of America. If there is anything we have learned in 2009, why would be want them to?

Just a few weeks into this past year, the news broke about the prior steroid use of Alex Rodriguez. While the last few years taught us to never be surprised about a baseball player and his indiscretions, we, as fans, always held out hope that the heir apparent to the Human Asterisk was clean. Now A-Rod and Barry Bonds are forever linked for more than just home runs. At the end of the year, Rodriguez and his teammates were enjoying another champagne shower and the press conference of February seemed so far away. What does that teach the kids?

You could say that A-Rod's "fall" came only from the top of the new Yankee Stadium facade. If that's the case, Tiger Woods fell from the top of the Empire State Building, if someone happened to move the famous skyscraper to the top of Mount Everest. The divorce proceedings have just begun and the endorsement losses are still mounting up, but it is already clear that the biggest star in the world will never be the same. The biggest lesson we learned in 2009 is that as much as we think we know these athletes and entertainers, we don't know them at all.

Just because we can watch a guy can hit a 500 ft home run or land a 178 yard shot softly on the green does not mean we know them. No matter what they say when the red light is on, does not mean we have any idea of the person when the cameras are put away. We think we know them and yet we have no idea. We drink Pepsi because A-Rod does and we use the Gillette Fusion because Tiger told us to. These two, and hundreds of athletes like them, do their job and they do it well. But that does not mean they should be raising our kids.

The guys want to be them. The girls want to be with them. They are strong and powerful and can do their jobs better than most people can ever dream of. They are rich and have their pick of the hottest girls out there. And if you're Tiger Woods, you don't even have to pick, you can just have them all. We buy their jerseys and their products and we strive to be like them. Growing up, our parents want us to be like them too.

Why can't we just enjoy them for what they are as athletes instead of anointing them the savior of the world? The guy who waited on me from Chik-Fil-A this morning did a great job but I don't know what kind of person he is when he is off the clock. It's the same thing with athletes. When they are away from the field, ice, court, or course, we really have no idea who they are. I'll be honest, I'm fine with that. As long as they entertain me while they are working, I don't care what they do off the clock, within reason, of course.

Instead of trying to raise the next Alex Rodriguez or the next Tiger Woods, why don't we strive to raise the first (insert name here)? And even if he or she can't hit the curveball or nail the 45 ft putt, maybe they will be raised with some values that we can all be proud of. Remember, just because he can bare hand the bunt attempt or effortlessly get out of the sand, it doesn't mean he should raise your kids.

Not so Golden Dome

2009-11-20T08:02:00.000-08:00

Charlie Weis thinks he is bigger then the Golden Dome. Even though from the right angle he may LOOK this way, he is in no way, shape or form bigger then the Golden Dome. Charlie Weis is not bigger then the University of Notre Dame. He may finally realize this when he is packing his things in the not so distant future.

Count me among the many Domers who applauded the hiring of Charlie Weis and the great pedigree he brought with him. When the news broke, we opened up the Rudy DVD and brought out the ties that play the Victory March when you press the button. When Charlie appeared on Quite Frankly with Stephen A. Smith and looked into the camera and said "we don't care about Urban Meyer at the University of Notre Dame", we put on the Irish gear and I think we actually felt a little taller, even as Meyer and the Gators were winning National Titles.

Looks like we fell for the Great Weis Hype. Sure, the Irish got to the BCS in his first two seasons but did they actually show up for the games? I thought an extra month of preperation was supposed to be the huge advantage for Charlie. There is still a great debate of whether it was Brady Quinn who made Charlie Weis a success early or the other way around. That debate is on hold as Quinn is hardly helping his case in the NFL but neither side has shown much without the other.

When your best "win" is a close loss to USC, that is not Notre Dame. When Service Academies have left South Bend victorious on their last THREE trips into town, that is not Notre Dame. And when the coach makes decisions based on his own arrogance and fails to gain first downs and victories, that is not Notre Dame.

The Kool-Aid has run dry. The landscape of college football has shifted. Gone are the days when you needed to play at Notre Dame to be seen on TV. Gone are the days when the Victory March and the Golden Dome are enough to get the kids to sign on the dotted line. None of this is Charlie's fault but he has done nothing to help the situation. Notre Dame should suck it up and join a conference. No longer can you handle a schedule such as theirs and expect to compete for BCS berths and National Championships. Join a league, win it from time to time and play in some BCS games. Another idea would be to actually win one of those, too.

Charlie Weis was not the savior we all thought he would be. He is no different from Bob Davies and Tyrone Willingham. Perhaps history will be a little kinder to Bob and Ty seeing as the great Charlie Weis and his fist-full of Super Bowl Rings couldn't get the job done either.

I have nothing against Charlie Weis. I wish him the best of luck as he goes back to the NFL as an Offensive Coordinator where he belongs.

For a long time now, Jesus is no longer signaling for the touchdown on the side of the library. Lately he is telling the campus that he has "had it up to here with Charlie Weis."

I think it's time to listen.

Fear not Red Sox Nation

2009-05-08T09:30:00.000-07:00

When the news of Manny Ramirez and his failed drug test started to come out there were two people I wanted to hear from - Bill Simmons and Chris Kindred.

Bill Simmons is better known as the Sports Guy, from ESPN.com, the Magazine and everything else the World Wide Leader wants to use him in. He's a Red Sox fan through and through and after reading his book following the '04 World Series, I was curious as to how he was taking the news. To be honest, even after reading his initial column, I'm still not sure how he is taking it. Chance are, he isn't either. The news of Manny Ramirez testing positive for a banned substance in 2009 makes you wonder what was going on in 2004. And when you start looking at the roster and the previous history of the players, coupled with what has transpired since, lets just say it makes you wonder. As an outsider looking in, I'm not sure how it feels to be a Red Sox fan today.

Which is where Chris Kindred comes in. Chris is my cousin by blood but he might as well be my brother and is a card-carrying curse-cursing member of Red Sox Nation. We spoke briefly as the news was coming out but it wasnt until much later that we had a chance to speak at length on the subject. I'm sure the thoughts were there of "was he?" and "do you think?" but it wasn't until he read Bill Simmons' column that it actually sunk in? Chris was 21 years old when the Sox won the title in 2004. While he could literally say that his beloved Sox had not won the World Series in his lifetime, he was well aware that his complaints did not hold the same weight as the grandfathers in Boston who had seen generations of players come through the gates of Fenway without a parade. But he felt it. He knew what it was all about and he knew what 2004 meant to every man, woman and child of Red Sox Nation. He knew what it meant to him. Less than five years later, he now questioned whether it meant anything at all.

I asked him how he felt when he saw Jason Varitek jump into the arms of Keith Foulke. He used terms like euphoric and amazing, knowing that he didn't wait a long time, but he felt he waited long enough. He thought back to the near misses. There was Grady Little leaving Pedro in a little too long and Aaron bleeping Boone sending one high and far and gone. All of that changed in one magical October ride. Gone were the chants of nineteen-eighteen. As Bill Simmons wrote, now he could die in peace. Five years and another World Championship later, does that all change?

My answer was simple - not at all. You may have doubts about the players and maybe you wont look back on certain teams the same way but it doesnt change how you felt that day and that month and that season. A 21-year-old kid was able to see something that hadn't happened in 86 years and it made his year. You can never take that away and you should never want to.

And think about it. The Red Sox had to get through the Yankees during the 2004 playoffs and as we know Jason Giambi, Alex Rodriguez and Andy Pettitte were all in pinstripes. Lets just say that even if Manny and the boys had a little help, it was quite possibly an even playing field anyway.

The Summer of '98 was a big part of my life as a baseball fan. Every chance I got to watch my hero chase a record that had stood for 37 years, I was glued to the TV. As Fox cut in to Cardinals games, so did I. When a loveable guy from Chicago joined the race it was must see TV as these two superheroes traded homers and hugs. Looking back on it, maybe superhero was the proper term as it appears these men, and countless others, were doing things that humans just shouldn't be able to do. I look back on that summer a little differently now, but I still look back in fondness. My love for baseball grew and I will never forget where I was when I heard Joe Buck's call - "Down the left field line. Is it enough? GONE!"

Maybe we look back on things a little differently these days. But baseball gives us wonderful moments and nothing can take those memories away. Nothing can take away the joy that I felt, that my cousin felt and that baseball fans all across the world have felt when watching the sport. My cousin loved baseball in October of 2004. I loved baseball in September of 1998 and I love baseball today. That doesnt change. Not now, and not ever.

2008: Year in Review

2009-01-11T07:40:00.001-08:00

2008 came in with a bang and left with a whimper. The year started with fireworks, both inside and outside of a Philadelphia hotel room. It ended with a tear or two as I lost the girl for the third time in the calender year. You might say, "shame you you, how can you keep setting yourself up for disappointment?" Well if you knew the girl, you'd understand but as the guy from the diner in Old School said, "Love. Its a motherfu*#er."

Speaking of Old School, the guy at the diner was talking to Mitch, also known as the Godfather. 2008 saw me becoming a Godfather for the first time as we were blessed with Little Sofia on a Saturday evening in April. Although she lives in Ohio, I was able to see her a few times this year and I absolutely love that little girl and I think there's a pretty good chance that she loves me too.

I saw the ups and downs of the sports world as well. My Detroit Red Wings won the Stanley Cup for the fourth time in 11 years and my New York Mets collapsed in September for the second time in as many years. To add salt to the wounds, the Phillies not only went TO the World Series, they had the balls to WIN the damn thing. I tried so hard to be happy for the team and their fans, mostly I put on a good face to help out the aforementioned relationship. But much like the relationship, I wasn't able to hold it together and my true feelings are starting to come out: I hate that team. I'm sorry, but I truly despise that team. Although we'll see who has the last laugh because I made a bold prediction on my radio show that the Phillies won't even sniff the postseason in 2009. And since our producer saved my speech, I'm hoping the Mets can help me out for a change and back me up.

Speaking of baseball, 2008 was the birth of the Lehigh Valley IronPigs, the new AAA home of the Phillies. It is the ONLY time I am able to root for anything even remotely related to that team from Philadelphia but I love me some Pigs. My favorite thing in the world is baseball and having a chance to catch a game, as a fan or a media member, just about any time I wanted to is truly the best thing ever.

I ended 2008 53 pounds lighter than I started 2008. I began endorsing a weight loss program on my radio show and as the year ended I had lost more weight than anybody this company had on its roster. I kept it up and although the holidays set me back a little, I'm right back where I need to be, and on my way to even more weight loss for 2009.

So 2008 was an interesting year filled with highs and lows. There were amazing nights in a hot tub and horrendous nights at a hospital. There was joy and there was sadness. But every day I woke up on the right side of the grass which made it a good start.

Who knows what 2009 is going to bring but its safe to say it will bring something. The question is will it be more of the goodness, or more of the sadness? But I'm not one to worry about those things. In the words of the late great John Lennon :"There will be an answer. Let it be."

The coolest night ever

2008-12-05T10:31:00.001-08:00

It's hard to believe that it was eight years ago already. I was 19 years old and quite possibly experienced the coolest night of my life. It's funny how much has changed in the eight years but the memories remain fresh in my mind.

It started at a Seton Hall basketball game. I had a video camera for Pirate TV which put me on the floor for the game. It was December 4, 2000 and the Pirates were hosting Norfolk State University. It was a crappy game so it was held on campus in the teeny tiny Walsh Gym and not at Continental Airlines Arena where the rest of the home games were played that year. This turned out to be a huge game for two reasons, both revolving around the All-American freshman Eddie Griffin. Griffin would complete the school's very first triple double, hitting for double figures in points, rebounds and blocked shots. But he would also get hurt in this game. Here we were, a top 10 program with perhaps the best freshman in the country and he goes down with a knee injury. As previously mentioned, this was a crappy game that nobody cared about... including the media. So all of a sudden, this 19 year old kid had perhaps the most important sports video in the tri-state area.

My friend John had the idea first to call ESPN to see if they may want the tape of the injury. If you knew me at the time, you knew that my only goal in life was to eventually work for ESPN, half of my wardrobe had those four glorious letters stitched on the front, so to call ESPN and ask if they wanted my video was really cool. But the coolest part was the fact that they said YES! We started talking about satellite coordinates and how we could beam the video up to Bristol from South Orange NJ. I was slightly embarassed when I had to tell them that we could barely make popcorn at the tv studio on campus let alone beam anything to anywhere. So it was decided that we would drive into Manhattan and stop by ABC to drop off the tape.

It was around midnight when we got to ABC. They had to wait until the Monday Night Football game was over before they could send it up to Bristol but our work was done: Two college kids drove into Manhattan at midnight and dropped off exclusive video to ABC sports and ultimately ESPN. It was even better the next day when I received phone calls from CBS and Fox, among other stations, that also wanted a copy of our video.

For a day and a half, I was the luckiest guy in the world. Lucky to be at the game with a video camera, lucky to have a friend with an idea and a car and lucky to be in college twelve miles outside of the media capital of the world.

A lot has changed in eight years. My friendship has been up and down for various reasons. The All American freshman left for the NBA after this only season at the Hall, had some success before getting mixed up with drugs and alcohol and ultimately died a year ago when his SUV hit a train. But, I still have those four letters stitched onto my clothes as a proud host for an ESPN Radio affiliate.

The Agony of Defeat

2008-10-04T16:58:00.000-07:00

I never played football growing up. Looking back I wish I would have given it a shot; I bet I would have been good at something. It never really came to mind as a child and although I thought about it as I entered high school, I was a kick-ass drummer so I stuck with the band.

It wasn't until I started working with the Lehigh University football program did I truly get to experience the high after a win, and unfortunately, like today, the lowest of lows after a tough loss.

For the last few years, I've been part of the broadcast crew with Lehigh, handling the pregame and postgame shows as well as the sideline reporting duties. Im never more than a few feet away from the playing field so I've never been so close to the action. Just after the first half and at the conclusion of the game, Im one of the first people to talk to the head coach, which is either a blessing after a big win or one of the toughest assignments ever after a deflating loss.

Today was one such loss.

After battling back and forth for most of the game, Lehigh took what it thought was the lead for good with just over five minutes to go. Cornell got the back with 78 yards to go needing a touchdown to win and proceeded to methodically march down the field, eating up every second and every yard, winning the game on fourth and 6 from the 20 yard line as time expired. The Lehigh faithful let out a huge gasp, followed by deafening silence and I was left with just moments to adjust my post-game interview.

Despite the loss, I can honestly say that it was one of the coolest moments in my life. The stadium was quaking behind me, I was into the game as if I were in uniform. And hell, maybe the "LEHIGH" was embroidered on my polo shirt and jacket and not stitched onto a jersey, but I felt like I WAS in uniform. And as a member of the "team" this one hurt. I felt for the coach, who struggled to find the words after a loss like this one. I wouldnt go so far as to call the two of us friends, but its hardly a stretch to say we are friendly with eachother. I felt for the players, who fought so hard for 60 minutes, only to come a play short. Football, as they say, is a game of inches and if that defensive back were only a few inches taller...

As tough a loss as it was, I wouldnt trade the experience for anything. Unlike when I was a child, today I had a football game. Unfortunately, my team lost, but there's always next week and I'll be ready.

The Godfather Chronicles

2008-09-18T08:24:00.000-07:00

Thursday September 18 – 11:00AM

Im going on a little trip to Dayton Ohio to see my beautiful five-month old goddaughter Sofia so I thought I’d keep a blog while I’m gone. This will mostly come in the airport out of boredom but we’ll see how it goes.

I left the house this morning at 10AM. My sister, Megan, was gracious enough to take me to the airport. Had I left in my car and driven to Dayton, I would probably get there around 6PM. As it turns out, that’s earlier than I will get there anyway. My flight is due in at 6:40PM but that’s mostly airport time. I still have close to an hour to go here in Allentown and then a big three and a half hour wait in Detroit. At least I can stop at a bar and have a bite to eat and a beer or two… oh wait, not on this diet… more on that later.

My day of waiting got off to a good start as I stood in line at the Northwest Airlines check-in counter for a good 20 to 30 minutes. It seems that the sign that gave the hours of operation was indeed operational. Finally not one but three girls came out of the back to help the line of people waiting. I don’t know what they were doing back there but I’m sure whatever it was didn’t involve three people. And what’s with the $15 charge to check my luggage? It’s their job to get me from one place to another. Is it not also their job to make sure my bag gets there as well? What did I already pay for? Its like going to a restaurant and paying $65 for dinner and then an extra $15 for the use of the plates, glasses and silverware.

So I’m on this pretty intense diet that involves a bar for breakfast and lunch and then a shake as a midmorning snack and an afternoon snack. If there is one place you don’t want to look suspicious, it’s the airport. I can only imagine how I looked as I’m trying to measure out 8 oz of water in my “beaker-type” jar and pouring a powdery substance into the water. What a great place to do a science experiment – Gate 7 at Lehigh Valley International Airport. At least there weren’t a lot of people around to watch me drink the stuff. I can’t wait to do it in a few hours in Detroit!

I can’t say enough about how excited I am to see Tim, Jess and Sofia. I flew out for her baptism in May and then I saw them a few times when they were home in July. She’s growing so fast these days from what they tell me. I didn’t want to wait until Christmas to see her so I figured I’d take a few days to go out now and see how she is doing.

I’ll try to check in from time to time while I’m gone. Don’t miss me too much.

Constant Reminders

2008-08-17T19:17:00.000-07:00

We are never short on reminders of just how precious life can be. And yet, one of the things we take for granted most of all is life itself.

We procrastinate, we put things off for another time and worst of all, we leave things unsaid. "I've got work to do, I'll do it next Spring." "She knows how I feel about her." Will you? Does she? What if next Spring never comes? What if she just isn't sure?

My grandfather died seven years ago this past week. On the night before he died, we said goodbye and everyone gave him a kiss. Well, that would be everyone but me. I shook his hand. We had no idea that it was the last goodbye. Seven years and three days later, I've wanted nothing more than to give my grandfather a kiss. There was supposed to be more time, plenty of chances to say goodbye. I was just saying goodbye for the night, I'd see him again tomorrow. I did see him the next day, and I kissed him, but he was already gone. Regrets because we are too proud.

I'm sure we've all lost someone along the way, someone who left us far too soon. You think about him often and know you should give him a call but something always comes up. Christmas is just around the corner and he'll be home for a few days. You're sure you'll catch up with him then. The phone rings and you find out that Christmas isn't coming for him and its going to be quite different for you this year too. Regrets because there's not always tomorrow.

A local high school basketball coach died last week. Based on his record, you could say that he was an amazing coach. By all accounts, he was an even more amazing person. He retired at the end of the season because he wanted to spend more time with his family. No one knew that the 48-year-old coach would only have a few short months to spend with them. Here's a guy who had no idea how little time he actually had left and made time for his family. Im sure the last few months will help the family get by a little easier. Then there are other people who seemingly have all the time in the world and yet never make time for loved ones because there is always the promotion to chase after and more money to make. Regrets because some things are more important.

The world gives us constant reminders of how short life can be. Maybe it is an early morning dorm fire that sees hundreds escape but claims the lives of three. Maybe its the family man who works near the top of a skyscraper that doesnt make it home. And maybe its an 80-year-old man who you think will be there the next morning.

The world gives us constant reminders to live our lives to the fullest, to show our loved ones just how much we care. Jobs, promotions, money... all of it will come and go. Friends and family are what its all about. And eventually they will go too. Which means we need to take advantage of the time we have. Take a day off and spend it with the one you love. Call your buddy even if you'll see him in a few weeks. And for God's sake, kiss your grandfather.

The world gives us constant reminders. Hopefully we all can take advantage of them. Before there are more regrets.

My Goddaughter

2008-04-17T16:16:00.000-07:00

Everyone always says that you can't choose your family and it is true. You're born into it and you're stuck with it. But there is a way that your family can choose you and that's exactly what happened to me on Saturday April 12, 2008.

As the clock was approaching 8PM little Sofia Gabrielli came into this world and I am told she immediately asked if Uncle Markus would be her godfather. Through the tears in my eyes, I emphatically told her father that I would be honored. As much as you think about how cool something would be, it never prepares you for when you get that phone call and it becomes a reality.

I was speechless. No, actually the first words out of my mouth were "no way" but obviously that was not my final answer. After hanging up the phone I had no idea what to say, no idea what just happened. Even to this day I have to keep checking my cell phone, looking for the picture to tell me that it actually happened.

To use an employment analogy, my resume would probably not be on top of the pile. I'm not a perfect guy, then again who is? But Tim and Jess thought enough about me to bestow on me the greatest honor I can imagine. To some it might not be a big deal. It seems like everyone is a godfather or godmother out there. Sometimes all you have to be is a brother or a sister and you're asked to be a godfather or godmother as if its a given. But this is different. Neither one of them have a brother so its not that simple. But even more than that, they have deep convictions in their faith and I would imagine took their options very seriously. And despite all that, they still found me worthy of this great distinction. What were they thinking?

We hear about unconditional love but I always thought that I wouldn't know what that feels like until I have children of my own. I think I have a pretty good idea though already. I have never met this little girl and yet she is already my favorite person in this world. I can not wait to meet her and start to spoil my goddaughter.

I guess I'll have to start saving my money for extra plane tickets to Ohio. The Gabrielli's might just see me on their doorstep on random weekends just to see my little angel as often as I can. Tim and Jess wanted me in her life for a very special reason. I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that I am there for her and that she always knows that Uncle Markus loves her very much. And truth be told, Uncle Markus will always love mommy and daddy Gabrielli just as much.

Tattoo

2008-03-25T16:51:00.000-07:00

I can't carry on my grandparents' name, but I can carry their name on me. This is the meaning behind my tattoo.

I got a tattoo on Saturday. I had wanted one for a number of years and I finally sucked it up and got it. My family had little to no faith that I would actually go through with it so I dont know what that says about my reputation but I got it and I love it.

It is a Celtic Shamrock accented in green and an Old English "B" in black. The shamrock is easily understandable because I've wanted one for a long time. The "B" is for my maternal grandparents, Bernie and Peg Brotzman. As I stated, I can't carry on their name but I wanted to carry them with me.

There is another meaning behind the tattoo. "B" could very well also stand for Brother because I got the tattoo with my two brothers. Some of you might be sitting there thinking "I didnt even know he had brothers." While the ones who know me best are saying "I know he doesnt have brothers." But then you would all be wrong. My parents might have only had me and two girls but it doesnt mean I dont have brothers. Chris and Jon Kindred are my brothers, always have been and always will be. We share the Brotzman grandparents which officially makes us cousins, but the bond that we have shared since we were younger makes us even more.

We have been through a lot together, both good and bad. When a close death in November had us all thinking about mortality and family, it became apparent that we needed to do something to stengthen that bond. We had been talking about tattoos for a while and the events of last Fall cemented our desire.

Chris got his on his left leg, Jon on his right. I got mine on my shoulder. Unique spots, but with the same message of brotherhood.

Neither one of us will carry on the Brotzman name, but we will always carry it in our hearts, and on our bodies.

Not long enough

2008-03-15T17:30:00.001-07:00

I really wasn't planning on two blogs in the same week let along the same day. I wanted to space it out a little bit but I came across something and had to get it off my chest.

There is a March 31st parole hearing for the two jerkoffs who started the Boland Hall fire at Seton Hall University on January 19, 2000. In the full interest of disclosure I should point out that I was asleep on the third floor of Boland Hall about 20 yards from where the fire started.

Joseph LePore and Sean Ryan were sentenced to five years in prison a little over a year ago. If they are granted parole they will be released in May, just 16 months into that sentence. If you ask me it would be way too early. Three freshman died in that fire. Over fifty others were seriously injured and countless others will never be the same again. I thought five years was too lenient of a sentence. It should have been five years per casualty and another five years for everyone else. Let them rot in there for 20 years.

Maybe they didnt mean to kill anybody but you know what, they did, three times over. And then they proceeded to lie about it for seven years before they finally copped a plea and admitted to the crime, showing as little remorse as possible. One of their lawyers called them "Model Prisoners" as if we should just forget that the key word there is prisoner. Of course they will be good in there, they are in fucking jail. Calling these jackasses Model Prisoners is like calling Marion Jones a fast prisoner. They are still prisoners and still criminals.

I was lucky. I came out of the fire relatively unscathed. But I know people who were affected much more than I was. About a year or so ago, I was approached by the Prosecutor's Office and had there been a trial, I was most likely going to be called in as a witness. Apparently my testimony eight years ago was spot on and I was needed. It was something I was dreading. I can relive every minute of that night but its not something I wanted to do on a witness stand. I guess now I wish i had the opportunity. Maybe had it gone to trial we could have put those bastards away for longer.

I pray that this parole hearing is just a formality and it will be rejected. I'm not an evil guy but 16 months in a Youth Correctional Facility is just not long enough for what they did to those three families and hundreds of others.

My prayers are not for me. They are for Frank. They are for John. They are for Aaron. They are for everyone who stood with me outside on that cold January morning. And they are for everyone who has been touched by that horrific event.

I pray for Joseph and Sean too. What they will have to live with I wouldn't wish on anybody. I just hope they have to live with it behind bars for more than just another two months.

My Guardian Angel

2008-03-15T17:10:00.000-07:00

I'm a guy who believes that everyone has a Guardian Angel. Sometimes these angels pop into your life when you least expect them but need them most. Mine did, but the irony is that she has been there the whole time. My guardian angel is my cousin Colleen.

Colleen is about four years younger than me and growing up we basically treated eachother like cousins who were four years apart. We saw eachother at Nana and Pop-Pop's house, did the birthday party thing and that was pretty much it. She got to high school the year I left for college so we never really interacted with eachother outside the usual family stuff. That all changed a few months ago.

I dont know what it was that changed things but it has been a blessing for me, and I'd like to think for her too. We started talking online more, just about every night. We exchanged texts and phone calls and went out for a few rounds of beer. But most importantly she has been getting me through a rough time over the last few months. I had recently had my heart broken and continue to almost every day. But every day Colleen is there for a joke, or just to listen. And I can't fully express how much that means to me.

Colleen has said two things that have really stuck with me. The first was when she told me that I wasn't the guy she thought I was. I don't really know how to take that because basically she said "I always thought you were an asshole but you really turned out to be a nice guy." But I'll take the compliment that I know it was meant to be. She really didnt know who I was. I was always the older cousin who was pretty much a jackass.

The other thing she said that hit me hard was when she told me that she always looked at me as a protective big brother more so than just a cousin. I was blown away by this. For a while I didnt even think she liked me, I had no idea she thought of me this way. Now, armed with this knowledge I'll do everything in my power to live up to the billing as the protective big brother. And hopefully I can repay what she has given me over the last few months as my guardian angel.

10 Years

2008-03-09T18:36:00.000-07:00

Next month, I will celebrate my 27th Birthday. But April 28th hasn't always been a day for celebrating. Ten years ago on April 28, 1998 my best friend lost his mother to cancer and all of our lives were changed forever.

Growing up, Tim and I each had two moms, mine and his. I met Tim on his 6th birthday and we've been best buds ever since. Ironically, his mom left us on my 17th birthday. Mrs G was everything a kid could ever want in a "second mom". She always treated me like one of the family and when she passed away, I lost a special person in my life. But aside from being my birthday, it wasn't about me. It was about my best friend who lost his mother before he turned 16. I'll never forget sitting with Tim that night just holding him as he wept in my arms. He was forced to grow up basically overnight and he became a man that Mrs G would be terribly proud of.

In the last ten years, Tim has played a major role in a school play, he has graduated from high school and college where he served as school president. Mrs G wasn't able to see any of these events as we have but she has had a bird's eye view for every one of them. A year ago he was married to his sweetheart and next month they will welcome a beautiful baby into this world. I secretly had hoped that the baby would come on April 28th, thinking how perfect it would be to have everything come full circle ten years later. Something tells me that the doctors wont let it go that long but even if its not the exact day, it will most likely be the same month and the circle will be complete.

On April 28, 1998 Amy Gabrielli left this world far too early. In April of 2008, Tim and Jess Gabrielli will bring life into this world and I could not be prouder of my best friend. I can't wait to get that phone call and I can honestly say that I am not ashamed to admit that I will be crying when I do.

Tim is my brother. Jess is my little sister. Uncle Markus loves that baby already. And somewhere in Heaven a grandmother will be smiling.