A tip of the cap goes to the head coach of the NFL Indianapolis Colts, Jim Caldwell. What an extraordinary job he has done in his 'rookie' year as the replacement for his mentor Tony Dungee, although I don't think Dungee could ever truly be replaced.
Jim has led the Colts to the AFC championship game, and I hope beyond. He has stepped into a pair of impossibly big shoes to fill, and done so admirably and with outstanding results. He does so after serving as the quarterbacks coach for three years, earning a big THANK YOU from Peyton Manning. He was also the assistant head coach for Dungee last season. His 2009 edition is now 15-2 after defeating Baltimore 20-3 Saturday...the team's first win, by the way, after being 0-3 in playoff games following the bye week afforded to the teams good enough to not have to participate in the wild card round. The Colts will next face the winner of today's Chargers/Jets game for the right to appear in Superbowl XLIV down Miami way.
Caldwell, though, only received 7 NFL Coach of the Year votes finishing behind the Bengals' Marvin Lewis, the Saints' Sean Payton, and the Chargers' Norv Turner...all of whom did superb jobs as well. But, if I had a vote, it would have gone to Caldwell. So, I decided to invent my own...and Caldwell is a unanimous winner! Please read on as to the 'what' and the 'whys'.
Think of it this way. Many times in most pro leagues, coaches and managers are actually penalized by the electorate for their team being TOO talented. Phil Jackson of the Lakers pops into my head. He's won a grand total of ONE Coach of the Year awards while with the Remark-a-Bulls of 1995-96 which went 72-10. All he did was handle the likes of Jordan, Pippen, Shaq and Kobe in his career. Jerry Sloan, one of the NBA's best coaches, has NEVER won...also bordering on criminal. Jim may be in the same fraternity.
Oh, he'll get his due all right, and would trade ANY individual accolade for a championship ring any day of the week. His players believe in him. His boss, Bill Polian...a football brain of the highest order...believes in him. Tony Dungee believes in him. And, all those great football minds cannot be wrong.
But there is a clincher. Caldwell gets credit for one more very important thing. He's an IOWA GUY! Caldwell was U of I class of '76. This is critical since I am Coe College class of '78. We know many of the same people, and we're all rooting for him to do well...to REPRESENT as the youngsters like to say. I'm not saying there weren't ANY people of color in eastern Iowa back in the day, but we DID have to import Afro Sheen, picks and Jet Magazines from Illinois. Suffice it to say we were a VERY exclusive club.
So, add all these factors together, and there is a great case to be made for Caldwell being the very first...(insert drum roll here)... 'Fred said it Rookie Head Coach of the Year who went to Iowa and did the Bump' award. Enjoy it, Jim. I think this is an achievement that I'm certain will never again be duplicated.
The award carries with it absolutely nothing of monetary value, but a firm handshake will be offered when next we meet.
With over 30-years of award winning broadcast experience under my belt, I still wake up each day eager to work with new people and challenge myself professionally. My talents are diverse as a media trainer/coach, speaker, spokesperson, host, voice/over artist, narrator and consultant. But that’s not where they stop, that’s where they begin.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Prayers for Haiti
I've had a difficult time finding the words for this particular piece, but I shall try.
We Hickmans have issues as does every American family. Dealing with our children, paying the bills, doing what many Americans do everyday. It's all good, though. Great wife who is my best friend. Healthy children who don't get into trouble, by God's good grace.
I watched the news, of course, all day chronicling the tragedy of the Haitian earthquake where so many of our brothers and sisters have perished by the tens of thousands. So many missing. So many hurting. So many wondering what to do next. People who are afraid to sleep indoors for fear the structures might give way due to aftershocks or existing damage. People setting tires ablaze to illuminate the town of Mangine, some 35 miles from the flattened capital of Port Au Prince. Men searching for THEIR wives and children, praying for the best, dreading the worst.
But, it was when I went to our filtered water dispenser in our nice, warm kitchen, in our nice, safe house, that it hit me. It could all be blown apart in a heartbeat. We are, all of us, one disaster and a few seconds away from having to rethink all we know and all we cherish. What would the folks in Haiti, who already lived in abject poverty (most subsiding on less than $1.00 per day) due for a fresh drink of water and a warm bed in which to sleep tonight?
Even Haitian President Rene Preval, who's quarters and offices were leveled in the 7.0 monster quake, was forced into the fray. The temblor did not ask for credentials nor cared about one's station in life. The news will not get better in the coming days or weeks as the rubble is cleared and the countless victims are unearthed.
I pray for Haiti. I desire to help my neighbors. I thank God for my family. I hope tonight that you will do the same.
My Episcopal church home in Atlanta supports some 204 children in Haiti. Father Rob knows not of their fate, but he did offer this prayer today:
"May the souls of the departed rest in peace; may the souls of the grieving be comforted; may the souls of the living not be overcome by this tragedy; and, may our souls not be overcome by indifference. We ask this through Jesus Christ our Lord. Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.".
All I can add to that is amen...and, what can I do to help?
We Hickmans have issues as does every American family. Dealing with our children, paying the bills, doing what many Americans do everyday. It's all good, though. Great wife who is my best friend. Healthy children who don't get into trouble, by God's good grace.
I watched the news, of course, all day chronicling the tragedy of the Haitian earthquake where so many of our brothers and sisters have perished by the tens of thousands. So many missing. So many hurting. So many wondering what to do next. People who are afraid to sleep indoors for fear the structures might give way due to aftershocks or existing damage. People setting tires ablaze to illuminate the town of Mangine, some 35 miles from the flattened capital of Port Au Prince. Men searching for THEIR wives and children, praying for the best, dreading the worst.
But, it was when I went to our filtered water dispenser in our nice, warm kitchen, in our nice, safe house, that it hit me. It could all be blown apart in a heartbeat. We are, all of us, one disaster and a few seconds away from having to rethink all we know and all we cherish. What would the folks in Haiti, who already lived in abject poverty (most subsiding on less than $1.00 per day) due for a fresh drink of water and a warm bed in which to sleep tonight?
Even Haitian President Rene Preval, who's quarters and offices were leveled in the 7.0 monster quake, was forced into the fray. The temblor did not ask for credentials nor cared about one's station in life. The news will not get better in the coming days or weeks as the rubble is cleared and the countless victims are unearthed.
I pray for Haiti. I desire to help my neighbors. I thank God for my family. I hope tonight that you will do the same.
My Episcopal church home in Atlanta supports some 204 children in Haiti. Father Rob knows not of their fate, but he did offer this prayer today:
"May the souls of the departed rest in peace; may the souls of the grieving be comforted; may the souls of the living not be overcome by this tragedy; and, may our souls not be overcome by indifference. We ask this through Jesus Christ our Lord. Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.".
All I can add to that is amen...and, what can I do to help?
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Mark McGwire: Let the 'Real' Healing Begin
Did you see Mark Mcgwire on the MLB Network Monday? I did, and came away from his explanation of his steroids use as a player with mixed emotions. McGwire claims he only used the substances to help him heal from injury and to 'get back on the field'.
In case you’re just arriving back from a five year excursion to Mars, Mcgwire is the guy who crushed 70 home runs during the 1998 season with the St. Louis Cardinals, going bang for bang down the stretch with Sammy Sosa. McGwire shattered Roger Maris’ single season homer record of 61 set it 1961. When former McGwire teammate Jose Canseco authored in his book that McGwire and others shared the passion for steroids in order to get bigger, heal faster, and hit and pitch baseballs better, a firestorm of controversy was ignited. McGwire was among those called before Congress five years ago, but did not admit to using the now banned and illegal substances, and baseball now has a stringent testing policy in place.
But, I’m not here to throw rocks at McGwire. I’m more reflective of myself as an avid baseball fan and a guy who’s followed and covered the game for decades. I’m telling you that I was watching every second of that 1998 season with the enthusiasm of a schoolboy, eyes wide and gate mouthed. Every bomb they hit was all the more amazing. I didn’t know McGwire was juicing, and I didn’t care. All I knew was that he and Sosa, and Giambi, and Bonds were crowd pleasing in a big way. After all, as former pitching great Greg Maddux deadpanned in a commercial ad, ‘Chicks dig the long ball’.
Yes, it was fun to watch and compelling. And, if you are any kind of a big league fan who says he wasn’t rooting right along with me, you’re the type of person who would lie about sticking his own kid in a hot air balloon so he could get a reality television deal. That would be either dishonest or delusional…and perhaps both.
I’m glad McGwire came publically clean. He had to. He is now the batting coach for the Cardinals and knew what kind of music he’d be facing the second spring training opens. So does manager Tony LaRussa and the rest of the Cardinals organization. They don’t want that kind of media circus following them around, but it’s going to happen anyway. The media will crazy glue itself to McGwire, and he’ll be forced to, again and again, explain his actions and publically apologize to those he duped.
Well, let me say this to Mark right now. Maybe I should apologize to YOU. As a fan, maybe I should have guessed something unnatural was going on with you. Maybe I should have turned my eyes away from the screen in 1998. Maybe I, along with the other millions of baseball fans were enabling you to push beyond accepted boundaries. Maybe I should have refused to cover your story as a sportscaster. Perhaps we should not blame Frankenstein’s monster, but rather the fiendish collective mind which created him.
Let’s be honest, McGwire and the rest of the creations out there gave baseball fans just what they wanted during those years. A sideshow act in a carnival which lacked zing. Who wants to see a two ring circus, after all?
So, I wish the guy luck. He’s finally held his nose and is swallowing his medicine. I, for one, forgive him but I know I am not alone. Fact is the peanut gallery is going to be on McGwire like white on rice from now on. Or at least until they can get their hands on Barry Bonds.
In case you’re just arriving back from a five year excursion to Mars, Mcgwire is the guy who crushed 70 home runs during the 1998 season with the St. Louis Cardinals, going bang for bang down the stretch with Sammy Sosa. McGwire shattered Roger Maris’ single season homer record of 61 set it 1961. When former McGwire teammate Jose Canseco authored in his book that McGwire and others shared the passion for steroids in order to get bigger, heal faster, and hit and pitch baseballs better, a firestorm of controversy was ignited. McGwire was among those called before Congress five years ago, but did not admit to using the now banned and illegal substances, and baseball now has a stringent testing policy in place.
But, I’m not here to throw rocks at McGwire. I’m more reflective of myself as an avid baseball fan and a guy who’s followed and covered the game for decades. I’m telling you that I was watching every second of that 1998 season with the enthusiasm of a schoolboy, eyes wide and gate mouthed. Every bomb they hit was all the more amazing. I didn’t know McGwire was juicing, and I didn’t care. All I knew was that he and Sosa, and Giambi, and Bonds were crowd pleasing in a big way. After all, as former pitching great Greg Maddux deadpanned in a commercial ad, ‘Chicks dig the long ball’.
Yes, it was fun to watch and compelling. And, if you are any kind of a big league fan who says he wasn’t rooting right along with me, you’re the type of person who would lie about sticking his own kid in a hot air balloon so he could get a reality television deal. That would be either dishonest or delusional…and perhaps both.
I’m glad McGwire came publically clean. He had to. He is now the batting coach for the Cardinals and knew what kind of music he’d be facing the second spring training opens. So does manager Tony LaRussa and the rest of the Cardinals organization. They don’t want that kind of media circus following them around, but it’s going to happen anyway. The media will crazy glue itself to McGwire, and he’ll be forced to, again and again, explain his actions and publically apologize to those he duped.
Well, let me say this to Mark right now. Maybe I should apologize to YOU. As a fan, maybe I should have guessed something unnatural was going on with you. Maybe I should have turned my eyes away from the screen in 1998. Maybe I, along with the other millions of baseball fans were enabling you to push beyond accepted boundaries. Maybe I should have refused to cover your story as a sportscaster. Perhaps we should not blame Frankenstein’s monster, but rather the fiendish collective mind which created him.
Let’s be honest, McGwire and the rest of the creations out there gave baseball fans just what they wanted during those years. A sideshow act in a carnival which lacked zing. Who wants to see a two ring circus, after all?
So, I wish the guy luck. He’s finally held his nose and is swallowing his medicine. I, for one, forgive him but I know I am not alone. Fact is the peanut gallery is going to be on McGwire like white on rice from now on. Or at least until they can get their hands on Barry Bonds.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Arenas: 'Agent Zero' Dollars...OR Sense!
So, let me get this straight. Gilbert Arenas has been suspended indefinitely and without pay by NBA Commissioner David Stern. The 28-year old star of the Washington Wizards, who is in the 2nd year of a six year $111 million dollar contract is losing $147 grand for each game he misses. He is being investigated by authorities for the possession of not one, but FOUR firearms in the Wizards locker room in what appears to be an OK Corral type standoff.
Seeing this all unfold, it's almost too bizarre to believe. There is no way ANYONE could be this dumb! But, Arenas...or Agent Zero, as is his nickname, has proven me wrong.
Let me count the ways. You have firearms in Washington D.C. Illegal. You have them in the workplace. Unethical and dangerous. You saw former Giants wide receiver Plexico Burress go to prison just months ago for shooting himself in the leg in a New York night club in a city where the gun laws are just as strong. Not paying attention. What if your weapon or that in the hands of teammate Jarvis Crittendon (There are reports Crittenton's weapon may have been loaded with a round chambered) had discharged, accidentally or otherwise? Reckless. Then, after all of this, during the course of a subsequent game, you point at teammates on your bench in a shooting motion as a 'joke'. Not funny to the Commissioner.
The last gesture caused Commissioner Stern to declare Arenas 'not currently fit to take the court' in an NBA game. The league is still investigating the matter as are the authorities. My guess is Arenas punishment(s) will be much more 'stern' before this thing is over, no pun intended because nothing about this is funny. Arenas would do well to grasp that fact.
The irony of this is as follows. Arenas is the face of the Wizards franchise, which changed it's name from the Bullets in 1997. Owner Abe Pollin decided to make the change because of the high crime and murder rates in the D.C area. The Wizards organization is backing the NBA's decision to suspend Arenas.
Gilbert Arenas is a great talent on the floor, but he STILL doesn't get it. There is not a set of laws and rules for Agent Zero, and another set for the rest of us.
$111 million dollar player. Five penny head.
Seeing this all unfold, it's almost too bizarre to believe. There is no way ANYONE could be this dumb! But, Arenas...or Agent Zero, as is his nickname, has proven me wrong.
Let me count the ways. You have firearms in Washington D.C. Illegal. You have them in the workplace. Unethical and dangerous. You saw former Giants wide receiver Plexico Burress go to prison just months ago for shooting himself in the leg in a New York night club in a city where the gun laws are just as strong. Not paying attention. What if your weapon or that in the hands of teammate Jarvis Crittendon (There are reports Crittenton's weapon may have been loaded with a round chambered) had discharged, accidentally or otherwise? Reckless. Then, after all of this, during the course of a subsequent game, you point at teammates on your bench in a shooting motion as a 'joke'. Not funny to the Commissioner.
The last gesture caused Commissioner Stern to declare Arenas 'not currently fit to take the court' in an NBA game. The league is still investigating the matter as are the authorities. My guess is Arenas punishment(s) will be much more 'stern' before this thing is over, no pun intended because nothing about this is funny. Arenas would do well to grasp that fact.
The irony of this is as follows. Arenas is the face of the Wizards franchise, which changed it's name from the Bullets in 1997. Owner Abe Pollin decided to make the change because of the high crime and murder rates in the D.C area. The Wizards organization is backing the NBA's decision to suspend Arenas.
Gilbert Arenas is a great talent on the floor, but he STILL doesn't get it. There is not a set of laws and rules for Agent Zero, and another set for the rest of us.
$111 million dollar player. Five penny head.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
The Hawk Nests in Cooperstown...FINALLY!
This is a great day for a great baseball player and a great person. Andre Dawson was the one and only electee to the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame this year, and it's about time. Dawson gets in on his 9th try, but trying hard has never been an issue with Dawson, one of the better right fielders of his era.
The Baseball Writers of America named Dawson on 420 of the 529 ballots they cast, almost 78% of the votes, 3% above the minimum. And, as an avid baseball fan, I couldn't be happier for the Miami native who is now a coach with the Florida Marlins, the team for which he finished his 21 year playing career before becoming an executive with the club. Sadly, the end of his playing days came in 1996, meaning he missed playing a single game in a world series by a single year. I spoke with him last season when the Marlins visited Atlanta, and two things struck me. He is still a kind soul, and he still has, what I estimate to be, a 30 inch waistline. I am deeply envious of the latter.
The coolest part if this whole thing is to know the man's history. He played on a pair of wrecked knees in a wrecked ballpark his first 11 years. He was a Montreal Expos outfielder and played on an Olympic Stadium field that was more parking lot than baseball diamond. When Les Expos decided he was no longer worthy of their time of money, he opted to become a Chicago Cub, joining the team by signing a blank contract...telling the Cubs to fill in the amount.
Dawson's numbers were outstanding. 438 home runs and 1,591 RBIs for four teams. And, his right arm was an absolute howitzer.
But, I love the man's story. The fact that he attended an HBCU, FAMU in Tallahassee. He was never in the headlines except for doing the right things in the right way. I'm told he visited the grave sites of his mother, grandmother and aunt before awaiting the call from the Hall with his wife and daughter. Dawson didn't win a World Series ring as a player, but he has always been world class in my eyes. He deserves every bit of praise he gets July 25th in Cooperstown. I hope to be there to watch.
Not bad, Hawk. Not too bad at all.
The Baseball Writers of America named Dawson on 420 of the 529 ballots they cast, almost 78% of the votes, 3% above the minimum. And, as an avid baseball fan, I couldn't be happier for the Miami native who is now a coach with the Florida Marlins, the team for which he finished his 21 year playing career before becoming an executive with the club. Sadly, the end of his playing days came in 1996, meaning he missed playing a single game in a world series by a single year. I spoke with him last season when the Marlins visited Atlanta, and two things struck me. He is still a kind soul, and he still has, what I estimate to be, a 30 inch waistline. I am deeply envious of the latter.
The coolest part if this whole thing is to know the man's history. He played on a pair of wrecked knees in a wrecked ballpark his first 11 years. He was a Montreal Expos outfielder and played on an Olympic Stadium field that was more parking lot than baseball diamond. When Les Expos decided he was no longer worthy of their time of money, he opted to become a Chicago Cub, joining the team by signing a blank contract...telling the Cubs to fill in the amount.
Dawson's numbers were outstanding. 438 home runs and 1,591 RBIs for four teams. And, his right arm was an absolute howitzer.
But, I love the man's story. The fact that he attended an HBCU, FAMU in Tallahassee. He was never in the headlines except for doing the right things in the right way. I'm told he visited the grave sites of his mother, grandmother and aunt before awaiting the call from the Hall with his wife and daughter. Dawson didn't win a World Series ring as a player, but he has always been world class in my eyes. He deserves every bit of praise he gets July 25th in Cooperstown. I hope to be there to watch.
Not bad, Hawk. Not too bad at all.
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