MAJOR-LEAGUE BASEBALL still lives in the twilight zone. Or, perhaps, the 1900s. A period when the "sins" surrounding the heroes of the diamond were wine, women and song.
When this Ol' Columnist exposed professional wrestling as a mire of steroids and pill-poppers in a documentary entitled "Counterfeit Hero," it wasn't surprising. After all what normal behaviour could boost a mild-mannered grappler into a mountain of exaggerated muscle, seemingly overnight?
However, the veneer shielding America's national pasttime was still intact.
That was until 2003 when Jason Giambi admitted before a federal grand jury that he had, indeed, taken steroids and human growth hormone in the BALCO investigation.
However, four years later, Giambi, the New York Yankees' designated hitter, has been reluctant to come forward and "spill the beans," before steroids investigator George Mitchell. He's been given a Thursday deadline to do so or be whacked over the knuckles by baseball commish Bud Selig.
But such a possibility for any ultra-severe disciplinary action is about a remote as yours truly hitting a grand slam against the likes of Curt Schilling. Slim and none and Slim just got out of town.
When researching the latest episode in the steroids fiasco, I went back to files from April 14, 1977 to a much more innocent times in which the headline read: A very civilized game.
Baseball is the only civilized game in the universe.
During what other game could you read a newspaper and follow the action on the field at the same time?
Baseball doesn't even have the harsh terminology used in football. You can curl your tongue around baseball terms. In football you can spit them out.
In baseball, you play in a park, not a battlefield.
Baseball is played on a diamond, not on a gridiron.
Even the players' positions have a genteel ring. A pitcher. A catcher. A first, second and third baseman. A shortstop (is he really that short?). A left, a right, and a centre fielder?
In football, it's a guard, a tackle (oomph!), linebackers (ouch), defensive backs, safeties, halfbacks and a quarterback, also commonly known as a FIELD GENERAL.
In football, there's always a game plan, strategy, on the attack, on the defence. It's the bomb, the blitz, the red dog, the hit men. And they buried him.
In baseball, it's the nice play. Around the horn. A little bingo. The squeeze play. And, of course, a favourite -- the pop fly.
Baseball players wear caps and gloves. Football players wear helmets and face guards, shoulder and hip pads.
Baseball players never lose their teeth. Football players always do. It's their mark of honour.
In baseball, the ball, which is always seen, is white -- bridal white.
In football, it's a menacing brown and ALWAYS hidden.
In football, it's a fight for inches. In baseball, it's a game of yards.
In baseball, it's called a pasture. In football, it's the END zone.
And the teams' names.
In football, it's the Eagles, the Bears, the Lions, the Broncos, the Cowboys, the Rams, the Bombers, the Roughriders.
In baseball, it's the Orioles, the Red Sox, the Cardinals, the Blue Jays. Chirp. Chirp.
As I said that was written some 30 years with contributions from George Carlin and the late Jim Murray, and so much has changed concerning baseball.
It truly has become diamonds in the rough with the steroids controversy and now major-league brawls.
Just Monday, Cubs' first baseman Derrek Lee and San Diego pitcher Chris Young were suspended for flying fists.
And a week or more ago, two Chicago teammates, Carlos Zambrano and Michael Barrett, scuffled in the dugout.
Now, disillusionment has set in. So, please, don't take me out to the Brawl Game.
FAMILIAR NAMES: R.J. Lechmere Guppy. A clergyman living in Trinidad. He send several species of tropical fish to the British Museum, including a tiny specimen that now bears his name ... Tom Collins. A 19th-century English bartender at Limmer's Old House in London.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Remembering the very best of fathers
WITH FATHER's DAY on Sunday, OK Corbett remembers his own Dad -- Angus Willard Corbett -- in the following column about "a wonderful, simple man and the best of fathers," who died in Calgary on Sunday, July 30, 1989. Although it's been almost 18 years since his death, this condensed "letter," which has appeared in numerous publications in North America and beyond, was "my way of remembering and honouring the most gentle of men."
***
Dear Dad:
It's only a short time since I heard the word.
Mom called at 2 a.m. on that Sunday afternoon and said you were slipping fast and then she called back at 4, crying.
It didn't quite register that I wouldn't see your smiling face or that twinkle in your eye. That my UNO partner wouldn't be around any more.
How did it feel dying, Dad? Was it painful as you crossed over to the Other Side? Remember when your Mom and my grandmother died of a broken heart after Grandpa passed on? Didn't she ask you, 'Willard, can you you see the Rock of Ages?' And you replied, 'Yes, Mom, I can see Him.' I know you couldn't, but you were always the devoted son.
Mom said you passed on with a smile on your face. She misses you, after all you were together 52 years. Oh, more than that. 'Remember, she used to keep house for Grandma and Grandpa. She couldn't stand you at first, you were conceited and a real fancy Dan, then, weren't you, Dad?'
But somehow love entered the picture and as a result you and Mom raised me and my brother, Garry, and we didn't turn out that bad.
Dad, you didn't give us boys much notice. Garry was up near the fire line near Lynn Lake, Manitoba for nine straight days, handing out cheques to those poor Indians. He had been sleeping on the floor of a government building. Me, I was just getting ready to go to The Sun. I still work those strange hours, but I love my job.
Well, after Mom's call, Garry up in Lynn Lake and me in Mississauga, grabbed the first flights out to Calgary. He actually got there three minutes before me.
Larry Dahl picked us up. You know, Larry? He's the preacher at the North Hill Church of the Nazarene, the young fellow with the holes in his socks. You were like a father to him. He always called you Dad!
Sunday night and Monday were like old times at home. Garry and I were forever teasing Mom, saying things that made her blush. Tickling her neck. My, you would have joined right in. It was almost like you were still down at the Fanning Centre and we hadn't visited you yet, except for writing your obit Monday night. The obit went in to the Calgary Herald and the Truro Daily News.
I meant it when I wrote that never has one come through life with such caring and compassion as you, Dad. Always quick with a smile and a twinkle in your eye, you enriched all those whose lives you touched. No one said an unkind word of you or you they.
During your last 20 years, your health failed, but your spirit never waned.
Please stop crying, Dad. You even wept at Lassie reruns.
Reality really set in Tuesday when we had to go to Foster's to make arrangements.
At night, Larry Dahl came over and he wanted to know the real Willard Corbett, the man behind the smiling face. He'd learn of your skill as a fine furniture finisher in Bass River, Nova Scotia, and being a janitorial supervisor at Gulf Oil. I'm sorry that in my immaturity I tried to impress some of my football and wrestling pals by telling them you were an oilman. Of course, I finally grew up and accepted you for being you -- a simple, gentle and unsophisticated man, who worked so hard to keep his family together.
Thursday. At the church, your family sat in the front pew. Your casket was closed, at your request. I remember, you saying, "I don't want anyone looking at me."
Of course, you know that we sang two of your favorites -- "The Old Rugged Cross" and "Amazing Grace" -- and there was a solo: "How Great Thou Art." Rev. Dahl preached about your love for people and your love for your family. And you were always there for your boys.
I know how happy you were that day, when your hulking sons, picked you up, bodily, and carried you along a Calgary street. How did you, being so short, ever have two sons as large as Garry and me?
You know that Garry and I were pallbearers and as we struggled with the casket down the church steps, I'm sure I heard you say: "Two hands, boys, two hands."
At the Queen's Park Cemetery, it was so difficult to say goodbye to one who had taught us so well. Even later that night, your boys wanted to visit you on the hill. Garry said, "I bet Dad's lonely." But the cemetery gates were locked for the night.
I know I'm lonely. So is Garry. And so is Mom. We'll survive, but the memories of the best father in this world and the world beyond, will remain.
I love you, Dad!
***
Dear Dad:
It's only a short time since I heard the word.
Mom called at 2 a.m. on that Sunday afternoon and said you were slipping fast and then she called back at 4, crying.
It didn't quite register that I wouldn't see your smiling face or that twinkle in your eye. That my UNO partner wouldn't be around any more.
How did it feel dying, Dad? Was it painful as you crossed over to the Other Side? Remember when your Mom and my grandmother died of a broken heart after Grandpa passed on? Didn't she ask you, 'Willard, can you you see the Rock of Ages?' And you replied, 'Yes, Mom, I can see Him.' I know you couldn't, but you were always the devoted son.
Mom said you passed on with a smile on your face. She misses you, after all you were together 52 years. Oh, more than that. 'Remember, she used to keep house for Grandma and Grandpa. She couldn't stand you at first, you were conceited and a real fancy Dan, then, weren't you, Dad?'
But somehow love entered the picture and as a result you and Mom raised me and my brother, Garry, and we didn't turn out that bad.
Dad, you didn't give us boys much notice. Garry was up near the fire line near Lynn Lake, Manitoba for nine straight days, handing out cheques to those poor Indians. He had been sleeping on the floor of a government building. Me, I was just getting ready to go to The Sun. I still work those strange hours, but I love my job.
Well, after Mom's call, Garry up in Lynn Lake and me in Mississauga, grabbed the first flights out to Calgary. He actually got there three minutes before me.
Larry Dahl picked us up. You know, Larry? He's the preacher at the North Hill Church of the Nazarene, the young fellow with the holes in his socks. You were like a father to him. He always called you Dad!
Sunday night and Monday were like old times at home. Garry and I were forever teasing Mom, saying things that made her blush. Tickling her neck. My, you would have joined right in. It was almost like you were still down at the Fanning Centre and we hadn't visited you yet, except for writing your obit Monday night. The obit went in to the Calgary Herald and the Truro Daily News.
I meant it when I wrote that never has one come through life with such caring and compassion as you, Dad. Always quick with a smile and a twinkle in your eye, you enriched all those whose lives you touched. No one said an unkind word of you or you they.
During your last 20 years, your health failed, but your spirit never waned.
Please stop crying, Dad. You even wept at Lassie reruns.
Reality really set in Tuesday when we had to go to Foster's to make arrangements.
At night, Larry Dahl came over and he wanted to know the real Willard Corbett, the man behind the smiling face. He'd learn of your skill as a fine furniture finisher in Bass River, Nova Scotia, and being a janitorial supervisor at Gulf Oil. I'm sorry that in my immaturity I tried to impress some of my football and wrestling pals by telling them you were an oilman. Of course, I finally grew up and accepted you for being you -- a simple, gentle and unsophisticated man, who worked so hard to keep his family together.
Thursday. At the church, your family sat in the front pew. Your casket was closed, at your request. I remember, you saying, "I don't want anyone looking at me."
Of course, you know that we sang two of your favorites -- "The Old Rugged Cross" and "Amazing Grace" -- and there was a solo: "How Great Thou Art." Rev. Dahl preached about your love for people and your love for your family. And you were always there for your boys.
I know how happy you were that day, when your hulking sons, picked you up, bodily, and carried you along a Calgary street. How did you, being so short, ever have two sons as large as Garry and me?
You know that Garry and I were pallbearers and as we struggled with the casket down the church steps, I'm sure I heard you say: "Two hands, boys, two hands."
At the Queen's Park Cemetery, it was so difficult to say goodbye to one who had taught us so well. Even later that night, your boys wanted to visit you on the hill. Garry said, "I bet Dad's lonely." But the cemetery gates were locked for the night.
I know I'm lonely. So is Garry. And so is Mom. We'll survive, but the memories of the best father in this world and the world beyond, will remain.
I love you, Dad!
Friday, June 1, 2007
Dementia taking its toll on memory
TED JOHNSON has all the symptoms: Depression, dizziness, excessive drowsiness, fatigue, irritability, memory loss, poor concentration, ringing in the ears, acute sensitivity to noise. And he's only 34 years old and slowly the memory and the mind of the former New England Patriots' linebacker may be vanishing.
He's almost a poster boy for an oft-dismissed disease and its advanced stage known as Alzheimer's, which can claim not only the young, as Johnson happens to be, but stretches into those in advanced years, often blatantly tagged as "the Golden Years."
One of the most searing articles about "dementia," was written by Washington Post staff writer Les Carpenter concerning the recent work of forensic pathologist Bennet Omahu, who has examined the brains of recently deceased football players such as former Philadelphia Eagles DB Andre Waters, Pittsburgh Steelers' offensive linemen Mike Webster and Terry Long and former Denver RB Damien Nash.
Referring to himself as a "brain chaser," Omahu surmises that repeated concussions in football "lead to early-onset dementia, very similar to the boxing ailment known as 'punch-drunk syndrome,'" according to the Washington Post article.
Of course, dementia can affect more than football players, but it seemingly has inroads among those who have been in heavy-contact sports, and Tim Dahlberg of the Associated Press has explored the connection between concussions and permanent brain damage.
Dahlberg also brought up the case of Pittsburgh Steelers' quarterback Ben Roethlisberger, who had been "dinged" twice (meaning two concussions) within a four-month period and then was given the a-ok signal to resume playing.
As Dahlberg wrote, "concussions, it seems, are the NFL's dirty little secret."
Two prime examples, according to the AP writer, were star quarterbacks Troy Aikman and Steve Young, who both went into early retirement due to concussions.
Then there's former New York Giants' linebacker Harry Carson, who had a dozen or more "bellringers" (another word for concussions) and now in retirement he has memory loss.
However, the NFL and other football affiliates aren't the only domain for concussions. Dahlberg pointed out that former Philadelphia Flyers' Keith Primeau retired because concussions prevented him from completing even simple skating drills.
According to a website blurb, "the NHL has mandated baseline neuropsychological testing since 1997." This means players, who are suspected to have a concussion, have to undergo tests and there's even an "informal rule" that those with serious concussions have to sit out a week.
But those "dings" take their toll as Johnson and others have found out, including John Mackey, the Hall of Fame tight end with the NFL Baltimore Colts, who has dementia at age 65.
Mackey is still a solid specimen and can converse with his "fans," however, his mental decline can become pronounced within minutes.
Mackey's deteriorating condition as well as at least 35 other retired players with dementia or related brain problems have come to the forefront and are now being helped by the "88" plan. Of course, "88" was Mackey's number when he was playing.
According to another AP article, it provides $50,000 a year for home care and up to $88,000 if they are institutionized.
However, Johnson, who has been silent about his dilemma until February of this year, came forward after Waters' suicide and told Boston Globe's Jackie MacMullan: "I want people to realize that you don't have to 'black out' to have a concussion. Most times, the symptoms of a concussion don't show up for hours, sometimes days. And this isn't just happening in the NFL. High school kids get concussions, and aren't properly monitored ... I don't want anyone to end up like me."
Johnson also told MacMullan that he had been "dinged" about 30 times or "so many times I've lost count."
There are an estimated 100,000 head injuries in amateur and professional football each year and according to USA TODAY, 61 per cent of game concussions result from helmet-to-helmet hits.
New York Jets team physician Elliott Pellman has been quoted as saying, "I always tell players and players' parents, especially, they need to respect this injury ... A concussion should be treated as a serious matter and not just written off as a 'ding.'"
Just the other day, a former athlete, who has had at least four head-rattling concussions, repeated his doctor's words: "You're in the early stages of dementia." He shook his head and muttered out loud: "Dementia, what the heck, I'm still only a young man."
WELL-KNOWN ALZHEIMER PATIENTS: Ronald Reagan, Rita Hayworth, Sugar Ray Robinson, Winston Churchill, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Ford, Arlene Francis.
He's almost a poster boy for an oft-dismissed disease and its advanced stage known as Alzheimer's, which can claim not only the young, as Johnson happens to be, but stretches into those in advanced years, often blatantly tagged as "the Golden Years."
One of the most searing articles about "dementia," was written by Washington Post staff writer Les Carpenter concerning the recent work of forensic pathologist Bennet Omahu, who has examined the brains of recently deceased football players such as former Philadelphia Eagles DB Andre Waters, Pittsburgh Steelers' offensive linemen Mike Webster and Terry Long and former Denver RB Damien Nash.
Referring to himself as a "brain chaser," Omahu surmises that repeated concussions in football "lead to early-onset dementia, very similar to the boxing ailment known as 'punch-drunk syndrome,'" according to the Washington Post article.
Of course, dementia can affect more than football players, but it seemingly has inroads among those who have been in heavy-contact sports, and Tim Dahlberg of the Associated Press has explored the connection between concussions and permanent brain damage.
Dahlberg also brought up the case of Pittsburgh Steelers' quarterback Ben Roethlisberger, who had been "dinged" twice (meaning two concussions) within a four-month period and then was given the a-ok signal to resume playing.
As Dahlberg wrote, "concussions, it seems, are the NFL's dirty little secret."
Two prime examples, according to the AP writer, were star quarterbacks Troy Aikman and Steve Young, who both went into early retirement due to concussions.
Then there's former New York Giants' linebacker Harry Carson, who had a dozen or more "bellringers" (another word for concussions) and now in retirement he has memory loss.
However, the NFL and other football affiliates aren't the only domain for concussions. Dahlberg pointed out that former Philadelphia Flyers' Keith Primeau retired because concussions prevented him from completing even simple skating drills.
According to a website blurb, "the NHL has mandated baseline neuropsychological testing since 1997." This means players, who are suspected to have a concussion, have to undergo tests and there's even an "informal rule" that those with serious concussions have to sit out a week.
But those "dings" take their toll as Johnson and others have found out, including John Mackey, the Hall of Fame tight end with the NFL Baltimore Colts, who has dementia at age 65.
Mackey is still a solid specimen and can converse with his "fans," however, his mental decline can become pronounced within minutes.
Mackey's deteriorating condition as well as at least 35 other retired players with dementia or related brain problems have come to the forefront and are now being helped by the "88" plan. Of course, "88" was Mackey's number when he was playing.
According to another AP article, it provides $50,000 a year for home care and up to $88,000 if they are institutionized.
However, Johnson, who has been silent about his dilemma until February of this year, came forward after Waters' suicide and told Boston Globe's Jackie MacMullan: "I want people to realize that you don't have to 'black out' to have a concussion. Most times, the symptoms of a concussion don't show up for hours, sometimes days. And this isn't just happening in the NFL. High school kids get concussions, and aren't properly monitored ... I don't want anyone to end up like me."
Johnson also told MacMullan that he had been "dinged" about 30 times or "so many times I've lost count."
There are an estimated 100,000 head injuries in amateur and professional football each year and according to USA TODAY, 61 per cent of game concussions result from helmet-to-helmet hits.
New York Jets team physician Elliott Pellman has been quoted as saying, "I always tell players and players' parents, especially, they need to respect this injury ... A concussion should be treated as a serious matter and not just written off as a 'ding.'"
Just the other day, a former athlete, who has had at least four head-rattling concussions, repeated his doctor's words: "You're in the early stages of dementia." He shook his head and muttered out loud: "Dementia, what the heck, I'm still only a young man."
WELL-KNOWN ALZHEIMER PATIENTS: Ronald Reagan, Rita Hayworth, Sugar Ray Robinson, Winston Churchill, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Ford, Arlene Francis.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
George the First on warp speed
WHAT'S AN OLD MAN like George Foreman taking these days? If the Ol' Columnist knew his secret he'd be out there peddling the product and making a billion or two on the weekends.
The last time, actually late August 2006, I wrote a column wondering whether the gigantic former world heavyweight champion turned preacher was going to climb back into the ring as he approached 57, 58, 59, or was it 60 years of age? After all another champ, Evander Holyfield, has been collecting more than a few bucks, marketing his aging body against those notorious bums of the month, which seem to number in the thousands.
As I wrote last year, George the First had collected a version of the heavy crown at the age of 45. And then he began turning up on TV as an advertising pitchman for everything from grills to advanced cleaning products, tending his ranch in the Piney Woods of Marshall, Texas and a sought-after motivational speaker. Of course, his speaking engagements included the board of regents session at Pepperdine University, the Las Vegas Labor Conference and the Real Estate Wealth Expo.
It would appear there was little time for anything else, including another comeback.
But in the past few days, Reverend George has sought to conquer new fields.
Instead of snoozing in the pulpit, he started pushing his latest book, God in My Corner: A Spiritual Memoir from Thomas Nelson.
"(The book) tells not only the life story of George, but more importantly, it tells how God has been behind the scenes of every part of his life," reads an explanation from the publisher, "from a boyhood marked with scrapes with the law, to Olympian gold medalist, to two-time heavyweight champion of the world, to father of a family of ten, to ordained minister, to founder of The George Foreman Youth Community Center, to successful businessman."
Kevin Jackson in The Christian Post wrote that besides the Today Show, Foreman appeared on Hannity & Colmes, the Sean Hannity Show, Janet Parshall's America and Fox Across America.
And while promoting his book, which expanded about his near-death experience after his loss to Jimmy Young and how God "called him to change his life and way," another startling revelation came to the forefront. In it George claims his water was drugged before he lost to Muhammad Ali in their 1974 Rumble In The Jungle at Zaire.
On ESPN, Foreman said his water had a medicine-like taste "as if someone had spiked it to weaken it" was the way he worded it. He lost to Ali by an eighth-round KO.
Although the "medicine claim" was included in God in My Corner, Big George has never blamed it for the Zaire defeat, even saying "It wasn't a fixed fight. I got beat fair and square."
And just after reading a ton of reviews about George's book, I decided to wind down this column and go onto another subject such as Sunday's Indianapolis 500.
So I begin to go down the list of drivers and even their owners and then came the ultimate shocker: George Foreman, yes that George Foreman, and his sons, all named George, are co-owners of the Indy Racing League's Panther team.
In a Sports Illustrated story, George Foreman Jr. and brother George III serve as vice-presidents of George Foreman Enterprises, the marketing company founded by their father, according to SI.
This is what George the First told SI: "I've been blessed throughout my life to partner with winning organizations. Now that I am part of Panther Racing, I am looking forward to being part of a winning team."
Incidentally, Panther and Reverend George and the team's co-owner John Barnes, have three cars in Sunday's chase -- Vitor Meira, Kosuke Matsuura and John Andretti.
If I were a betting man, I'd lay down a few shekels on all three. After all anything with Foreman's name attached to it is money in the bank.
***
GRETZKY ALSO IN THE INDY 'FIELD': Wayne Gretzky, the former NHL superstar with the Edmonton Oilers and now head coach of the Phoenix Coyotes, will not be driving in Sunday's event, but his name will be prominent, nevertheless; for he and his group could benefit when Ryan Briscoe starts seventh in the 33-car field. Briscoe drives for the Luczo Dragon Racing team, which has pledged to donate a bundle of their winnings to a number of charities, including Gretzky's Foundation.
***
FINALLY, SOME NIXON QUOTES (From The Best of Uncle John's Bathroom Reader): "I never made the (football) team ... I was not heavy enough to play the line, not fast enough to play halfback and not smart enough to be a quarterback." ... "Once you get into this great stream of history, you can't get out."
The last time, actually late August 2006, I wrote a column wondering whether the gigantic former world heavyweight champion turned preacher was going to climb back into the ring as he approached 57, 58, 59, or was it 60 years of age? After all another champ, Evander Holyfield, has been collecting more than a few bucks, marketing his aging body against those notorious bums of the month, which seem to number in the thousands.
As I wrote last year, George the First had collected a version of the heavy crown at the age of 45. And then he began turning up on TV as an advertising pitchman for everything from grills to advanced cleaning products, tending his ranch in the Piney Woods of Marshall, Texas and a sought-after motivational speaker. Of course, his speaking engagements included the board of regents session at Pepperdine University, the Las Vegas Labor Conference and the Real Estate Wealth Expo.
It would appear there was little time for anything else, including another comeback.
But in the past few days, Reverend George has sought to conquer new fields.
Instead of snoozing in the pulpit, he started pushing his latest book, God in My Corner: A Spiritual Memoir from Thomas Nelson.
"(The book) tells not only the life story of George, but more importantly, it tells how God has been behind the scenes of every part of his life," reads an explanation from the publisher, "from a boyhood marked with scrapes with the law, to Olympian gold medalist, to two-time heavyweight champion of the world, to father of a family of ten, to ordained minister, to founder of The George Foreman Youth Community Center, to successful businessman."
Kevin Jackson in The Christian Post wrote that besides the Today Show, Foreman appeared on Hannity & Colmes, the Sean Hannity Show, Janet Parshall's America and Fox Across America.
And while promoting his book, which expanded about his near-death experience after his loss to Jimmy Young and how God "called him to change his life and way," another startling revelation came to the forefront. In it George claims his water was drugged before he lost to Muhammad Ali in their 1974 Rumble In The Jungle at Zaire.
On ESPN, Foreman said his water had a medicine-like taste "as if someone had spiked it to weaken it" was the way he worded it. He lost to Ali by an eighth-round KO.
Although the "medicine claim" was included in God in My Corner, Big George has never blamed it for the Zaire defeat, even saying "It wasn't a fixed fight. I got beat fair and square."
And just after reading a ton of reviews about George's book, I decided to wind down this column and go onto another subject such as Sunday's Indianapolis 500.
So I begin to go down the list of drivers and even their owners and then came the ultimate shocker: George Foreman, yes that George Foreman, and his sons, all named George, are co-owners of the Indy Racing League's Panther team.
In a Sports Illustrated story, George Foreman Jr. and brother George III serve as vice-presidents of George Foreman Enterprises, the marketing company founded by their father, according to SI.
This is what George the First told SI: "I've been blessed throughout my life to partner with winning organizations. Now that I am part of Panther Racing, I am looking forward to being part of a winning team."
Incidentally, Panther and Reverend George and the team's co-owner John Barnes, have three cars in Sunday's chase -- Vitor Meira, Kosuke Matsuura and John Andretti.
If I were a betting man, I'd lay down a few shekels on all three. After all anything with Foreman's name attached to it is money in the bank.
***
GRETZKY ALSO IN THE INDY 'FIELD': Wayne Gretzky, the former NHL superstar with the Edmonton Oilers and now head coach of the Phoenix Coyotes, will not be driving in Sunday's event, but his name will be prominent, nevertheless; for he and his group could benefit when Ryan Briscoe starts seventh in the 33-car field. Briscoe drives for the Luczo Dragon Racing team, which has pledged to donate a bundle of their winnings to a number of charities, including Gretzky's Foundation.
***
FINALLY, SOME NIXON QUOTES (From The Best of Uncle John's Bathroom Reader): "I never made the (football) team ... I was not heavy enough to play the line, not fast enough to play halfback and not smart enough to be a quarterback." ... "Once you get into this great stream of history, you can't get out."
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Terrorism on Canadian horizon?
AS SOMEONE once said: "Canadians are too darn nice." That's us, nice!
It might be the welcoming card for terrorists and their hellish behaviour, which has now has sent shockwaves throughout the world and could rear its ugly head on the U.S.-Canada border.
However, Ottawa has failed to show the kind of strong leadership in alerting the average Canadian citizens to the multiple dangers.
While former U.S. Speaker of the House, Newt Gingrich, with his warnings against an "open border" and "amnesty" with Mexico may have had some effect on American political leaders since an immigration bill has been delayed until after the Memorial Day weekend, Canada and its Citizenship and Immigration department and its minister, Diane Finley, appear content to be just "nice."
As a former Middle East bureau chief for a major news organization based in Jerusalem, I was at first shocked and then thankful for Israel's extremely cautious security system, which checks and double checks travelers from other lands, including Canada.
The first instance of such vigilance occurred in late 1990 while leaving Cairo, Egypt for Tel Aviv. It involved eight hours of checking and re-checking luggage and also questioning at length each of the passengers on the El Al flight. After eight hours, this reporter was taken along with some 150 passengers to the far end of the Cairo airport in complete darkness.
Once at the end of the tarmac, at least what seemed to be five miles away, each passenger had to claim his or her own luggage in the dark before departing.
Of course, the reason for such precautions was that the Gulf War was about to erupt in the Middle East.
Today, the extremists seem bent on disrupting any semblance of peace with their ungodly schemes of murder and mayhem and although Canada has security checks and balances, I wonder if its enough.
Are we ripe for an attack from within our own borders?
It seems so simple to obtain Canadian citizenship: * Be 18 years of age or older; be a permanent resident of Canada; have lived in Canada for at least three or four years before applying; be able to communicate in either English or French; know about Canada; and know about the rights and responsibilities of citizenship.
Then if you are between the ages of 18 and 54, you must pass a citizenship test with such questions as: Who are the Aboriginal peoples of Canada? Where did the first European settlers in Canada come from; What does Confederation mean; List four rights Canadian citizens have? What does the Canadian flag look like? What is the population of Canada? What are the three main types of industries in Canada? Who is Canada's Head of State; What is the capital city of the province or territory in which you live?
These might not be the exact questions you will be asked, but the test, according to the CIC, is made up of similar questions.
On April 10, 2004 in the Globe and Mail, Patrick Grady reviewed Stewart Bell's book, How Canada Nurtures and Exports Terrorism Around the World.
Grady opened with these words: "Canadians will be madder than hell after they read Stewart Bell's shocking account of how the Canadian government has allowed Sikh, Tamil and Islamic terrorists to come into our home and turn it into a safe house for international terror."
Grady finished up his thesis with these words: "Stewart Bell's clarion call for action needs to be heeded before the ticking Canadian terrorist time bomb blows up closer to home. If Canadian terrorists aren't stopped before they use weapons of mass destruction in the United States, we'll have far bigger problems than keeping the border open for trade."
And what about security on the B.C.-Washington state border?
"Am I going to tell you I've hermetically sealed this border? No that's not true. I can put a million agents out there and have them run willy-nilly across the border catching everything that moves and throwing it back," Border Patrol's Joe Giuliano in Blaine, Wash. was quoted by NewsMax.com in July 2005. "Two hours later, they're going to try again ... and sooner or later somebody's going to find that one little seam and exploit it."
***
STORMY WEATHER AHEAD: It's fire season from California to Florida to Georgia and now on the horizon are those dastardly hurricanes. The first one, Andrea, fizzled into a subtropical depression after churning up the waters off Florida to North Carolina, but the weatherman claims there are 20 still brewing ... And they all have names such as Barry, Chantal, Dean, Erin, Felix, Gabrielle, Humberto, Ingrid, Jerry, Karen, Lorenzo, Melissa, Noel, Olga, Pablo, Rebekah, Sebastien, Tanya, Van and Wendy.
It might be the welcoming card for terrorists and their hellish behaviour, which has now has sent shockwaves throughout the world and could rear its ugly head on the U.S.-Canada border.
However, Ottawa has failed to show the kind of strong leadership in alerting the average Canadian citizens to the multiple dangers.
While former U.S. Speaker of the House, Newt Gingrich, with his warnings against an "open border" and "amnesty" with Mexico may have had some effect on American political leaders since an immigration bill has been delayed until after the Memorial Day weekend, Canada and its Citizenship and Immigration department and its minister, Diane Finley, appear content to be just "nice."
As a former Middle East bureau chief for a major news organization based in Jerusalem, I was at first shocked and then thankful for Israel's extremely cautious security system, which checks and double checks travelers from other lands, including Canada.
The first instance of such vigilance occurred in late 1990 while leaving Cairo, Egypt for Tel Aviv. It involved eight hours of checking and re-checking luggage and also questioning at length each of the passengers on the El Al flight. After eight hours, this reporter was taken along with some 150 passengers to the far end of the Cairo airport in complete darkness.
Once at the end of the tarmac, at least what seemed to be five miles away, each passenger had to claim his or her own luggage in the dark before departing.
Of course, the reason for such precautions was that the Gulf War was about to erupt in the Middle East.
Today, the extremists seem bent on disrupting any semblance of peace with their ungodly schemes of murder and mayhem and although Canada has security checks and balances, I wonder if its enough.
Are we ripe for an attack from within our own borders?
It seems so simple to obtain Canadian citizenship: * Be 18 years of age or older; be a permanent resident of Canada; have lived in Canada for at least three or four years before applying; be able to communicate in either English or French; know about Canada; and know about the rights and responsibilities of citizenship.
Then if you are between the ages of 18 and 54, you must pass a citizenship test with such questions as: Who are the Aboriginal peoples of Canada? Where did the first European settlers in Canada come from; What does Confederation mean; List four rights Canadian citizens have? What does the Canadian flag look like? What is the population of Canada? What are the three main types of industries in Canada? Who is Canada's Head of State; What is the capital city of the province or territory in which you live?
These might not be the exact questions you will be asked, but the test, according to the CIC, is made up of similar questions.
On April 10, 2004 in the Globe and Mail, Patrick Grady reviewed Stewart Bell's book, How Canada Nurtures and Exports Terrorism Around the World.
Grady opened with these words: "Canadians will be madder than hell after they read Stewart Bell's shocking account of how the Canadian government has allowed Sikh, Tamil and Islamic terrorists to come into our home and turn it into a safe house for international terror."
Grady finished up his thesis with these words: "Stewart Bell's clarion call for action needs to be heeded before the ticking Canadian terrorist time bomb blows up closer to home. If Canadian terrorists aren't stopped before they use weapons of mass destruction in the United States, we'll have far bigger problems than keeping the border open for trade."
And what about security on the B.C.-Washington state border?
"Am I going to tell you I've hermetically sealed this border? No that's not true. I can put a million agents out there and have them run willy-nilly across the border catching everything that moves and throwing it back," Border Patrol's Joe Giuliano in Blaine, Wash. was quoted by NewsMax.com in July 2005. "Two hours later, they're going to try again ... and sooner or later somebody's going to find that one little seam and exploit it."
***
STORMY WEATHER AHEAD: It's fire season from California to Florida to Georgia and now on the horizon are those dastardly hurricanes. The first one, Andrea, fizzled into a subtropical depression after churning up the waters off Florida to North Carolina, but the weatherman claims there are 20 still brewing ... And they all have names such as Barry, Chantal, Dean, Erin, Felix, Gabrielle, Humberto, Ingrid, Jerry, Karen, Lorenzo, Melissa, Noel, Olga, Pablo, Rebekah, Sebastien, Tanya, Van and Wendy.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Heartaches and heartbreaks
THE BEARDED GIANT of a man glided through the warm November fog in his new Caddy convertible. His arm hung out the window as he and a butner headed for a cattle sale near Kitchener, Ontario.
His muscular physique had, seemingly, been destined for a football career and he even coveted a lengthy time in wrestling.
Following the cattle sale, the smiling Giant and his buddy retired to a pub and cooled off with a half dozen beers.
In the hours that followed, he noticed a sharp pain searing through his left shoulder. The Giant shook it off for he'd had much more severe pain on the playing field. However, overnight, his life changed forever.
The pain intensified. His friends convinced him liquor would soothe the ache that now spread throughout his body. The booze didn't help as he poured quarts down his throat.
With him lapsing into a semi-conscious state, a hospital ambulance was summoned; however, with so much liquor in his body, his doctor was livid and it took an entire weekend for the effects of the liquor to dissipate.
The series of tests followed with biopsies, spinal taps and prodding of his semi-conscious body and suddenly he started dropping weight from 270 to below 200 pounds. His frailness became noticeable to his friends and family in Hamilton General Hospital.
Soon his hands and arms were paralyzed and all muscle tone disappeared. Some thought it was Lou Gehrig's Disease -- amyotrophic lateral sclerosis -- named after the magnificent Yankee teammate of Babe Ruth. The great Iron Horse lost his skills in dramatic fashion in 1939 as old-time New York sportswriter Joe Williams noted: "We could almost hear his bones creak."
However, the Giant's doctor ruled it as "just a virus," even though he had no movement in his hands and depended even on others to assist him in opening a door or turning a TV knob. Over the period of a year, he was able to function again and he returned to his newspaper career, although his athletic career faded. It was years later that I was diagnosed to having Guilliane-Barre' syndrome. Dealing with it has been a struggle; however, it's another disease that seems incurable like Lou Gehrig's Disease that has taken so many lives of young and aspiring athletes.
Such related illnesses are often associated with playing on contaminated surfaces, such as chemical dumps. I know I have.
Take for instance, three players from the 1964 San Francisco Forty-Niners, who were diagnosed as having ALS. Running back Gary Lewis and Matt Hazeltine died in 1987 while quarterback Bob Waters also was felled by it.
Was it drugs? Was it the environment? Was it something sprayed on the practice field that triggered a breakdown in the body's immune system? Was it coincidence?
The questions after all these years still go unanswered.
A skilled linebacker friend of mine, who played on a chemical dump in the Toronto area throughout his career, diagnosed the problem just before he died of ALS. "It was the playing surface," the unidentified athlete, we'll call him Sam, told me. It was tragic as he faded into a frail, old man. Although only in his late 20s, Sam appeared as being in his late 80s.
ALS Canada has sent Dr. Donald McLachlan, a University of Toronto research neurologist, to Guam on several occasions to uncover a clue to the enigmatic killer, for on the U.S. Pacific island the incidences are 100 times greater than the norm. In the late 1980s, the disease struck 3,500 Americans -- two out of every 100,000 Americans -- annually.
Dr. McLachlan also had been probing into the relationship between Alzheimer's Disease and ALS, for he has noticed similarities, particularly in the concentration of aluminum, during autopsies on the brains of the victims of the two diseases.
There's another peculiar aspect to ALS, notably in Canada, in that the incidences are greater in three separate pockets: one in Nova Scotia, one in British Columbia and in the Windsor-Essex areas of Ontario.
However, not only athletes have been struck down, but distinguished actors such as the late David Niven. In the last few years of his life, Niven was a far cry from the dashing and energetic man who graced the movie screens and who was the author of a number of best-selling novels. ALS took an insidious toll of Niven's body, taking the use of his voice box, with Rich Little dubbing in Niven's unmistakable and distinguished speech.
It seems ALS has no cure and its victims are fated to die an early death.
As for Guillaine-Barre', it has no known cure, but its victims usually live productive lives. It has lingering effects, for each morning I wake up with numbness in my hands, arms and legs and my muscles have weakened a once strong man.
His muscular physique had, seemingly, been destined for a football career and he even coveted a lengthy time in wrestling.
Following the cattle sale, the smiling Giant and his buddy retired to a pub and cooled off with a half dozen beers.
In the hours that followed, he noticed a sharp pain searing through his left shoulder. The Giant shook it off for he'd had much more severe pain on the playing field. However, overnight, his life changed forever.
The pain intensified. His friends convinced him liquor would soothe the ache that now spread throughout his body. The booze didn't help as he poured quarts down his throat.
With him lapsing into a semi-conscious state, a hospital ambulance was summoned; however, with so much liquor in his body, his doctor was livid and it took an entire weekend for the effects of the liquor to dissipate.
The series of tests followed with biopsies, spinal taps and prodding of his semi-conscious body and suddenly he started dropping weight from 270 to below 200 pounds. His frailness became noticeable to his friends and family in Hamilton General Hospital.
Soon his hands and arms were paralyzed and all muscle tone disappeared. Some thought it was Lou Gehrig's Disease -- amyotrophic lateral sclerosis -- named after the magnificent Yankee teammate of Babe Ruth. The great Iron Horse lost his skills in dramatic fashion in 1939 as old-time New York sportswriter Joe Williams noted: "We could almost hear his bones creak."
However, the Giant's doctor ruled it as "just a virus," even though he had no movement in his hands and depended even on others to assist him in opening a door or turning a TV knob. Over the period of a year, he was able to function again and he returned to his newspaper career, although his athletic career faded. It was years later that I was diagnosed to having Guilliane-Barre' syndrome. Dealing with it has been a struggle; however, it's another disease that seems incurable like Lou Gehrig's Disease that has taken so many lives of young and aspiring athletes.
Such related illnesses are often associated with playing on contaminated surfaces, such as chemical dumps. I know I have.
Take for instance, three players from the 1964 San Francisco Forty-Niners, who were diagnosed as having ALS. Running back Gary Lewis and Matt Hazeltine died in 1987 while quarterback Bob Waters also was felled by it.
Was it drugs? Was it the environment? Was it something sprayed on the practice field that triggered a breakdown in the body's immune system? Was it coincidence?
The questions after all these years still go unanswered.
A skilled linebacker friend of mine, who played on a chemical dump in the Toronto area throughout his career, diagnosed the problem just before he died of ALS. "It was the playing surface," the unidentified athlete, we'll call him Sam, told me. It was tragic as he faded into a frail, old man. Although only in his late 20s, Sam appeared as being in his late 80s.
ALS Canada has sent Dr. Donald McLachlan, a University of Toronto research neurologist, to Guam on several occasions to uncover a clue to the enigmatic killer, for on the U.S. Pacific island the incidences are 100 times greater than the norm. In the late 1980s, the disease struck 3,500 Americans -- two out of every 100,000 Americans -- annually.
Dr. McLachlan also had been probing into the relationship between Alzheimer's Disease and ALS, for he has noticed similarities, particularly in the concentration of aluminum, during autopsies on the brains of the victims of the two diseases.
There's another peculiar aspect to ALS, notably in Canada, in that the incidences are greater in three separate pockets: one in Nova Scotia, one in British Columbia and in the Windsor-Essex areas of Ontario.
However, not only athletes have been struck down, but distinguished actors such as the late David Niven. In the last few years of his life, Niven was a far cry from the dashing and energetic man who graced the movie screens and who was the author of a number of best-selling novels. ALS took an insidious toll of Niven's body, taking the use of his voice box, with Rich Little dubbing in Niven's unmistakable and distinguished speech.
It seems ALS has no cure and its victims are fated to die an early death.
As for Guillaine-Barre', it has no known cure, but its victims usually live productive lives. It has lingering effects, for each morning I wake up with numbness in my hands, arms and legs and my muscles have weakened a once strong man.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
It's a Blog World after all
THE LATE, GREAT Lewis Grizzard once wrote "these fingertips have never, and will never, touch one key on any sort of computer."
And somehow, the humourous columnist struggled through with the adage of: "Listen, you imbecile, there is only one way anybody should compose and that is upon a manual typewriter."
Some how, after a mountain high pile of scribblings, I sometimes wish I had listened to Lewis' advice. But I didn't. Instead during the past couple of decades, my knowledge has expanded from computers, which always seemed to malfunction, to advanced technology and now, within the past six months, I have "graduated" to the edge of another universe, called blogging.
As I've said before, the question is no longer "what's your sign?" but has sprouted into "what's your blog sign-on?"
And so in order to show my knowledge in this "art," I'm ready to give a few lessons from How Stuff Works.com.
So what is a blog, Professor?
Well, as the manual says, "a blog is a lot like an online journal or diary. The author can talk about anything and everything. Many blogs are full of interesting links that the author has found. Blogs often contain stories or little snippets of information that are interesting to the author."
However, that doesn't mean I'm about to tell you how I almost landed the "Big One" off Bass River on my blogs.
So, I'll just continue:
"Even though blogs can be completely free-form, many blogs have a focus. For example, if a blogger is interested in technology, the blogger might go to the Computer Electronics Show and post entries of the things he/she sees there. If a blogger is interested in a certain disease, he/she might post every news article and every piece of research he/she finds on the disease."
Say, Corbett, you're typing up all that information from the website, aren't you?
Alright, you caught me, but they are a great boon to a reporter, who's pressed for time and without much effort, he/she can get a new perspective, for as the howstuffworks site said, "there are now millions of them."
For a writer, who now has created at least five blogs, stuffed with columns and other trivia, it's been great, but what would Lewis think?
I think I know the answer, for Grizzard, if he were alive today, he would still be advocating the use of a manual typewriter and even citing the Bible as a reference point.
"Then they ask, "Where in the Bible?" Lewis wrote. "And I say, "The book of Royal," and they say there is no book of Royal in the Bible, and by that time I'm halfway down the street and the conversation is over." Incidentally, Royal was the name of the typewriter brand he always used.
To make another point, the man with the Southern drawl, cited the computer virus as the bane of society with these words: "It's been all over the news that something called Michelangelo, probably an evil spirit, could get into computers and wipe out everything stored in them. Great industries could be brought to their knees. Kingdoms could crumble. Authors could kill themselves in droves."
Then he also offered this bit of wisdom: "Do you think if Margaret Mitchell had done "Gone With the Wind" on a computer, and it had disappeared because of a dog's indiscretion, she would have gone to all the trouble of rewriting GWTW?"
Perhaps, it's fortunate that Lewis Grizzard has passed on to that Great Typewriter Heaven in the sky. After all, he would cringe at a veteran scribbler not only knowing how to blog, but also considering learning about iPods, etc.
***
CRY ME A RIVER: Although I promised not to haul out The Book of Lists again, a couple of "criers" made me do it. Yes, two hockey players made the List: Todd Bertuzzi and the Great One, no not Sid Crosby, but Wayne Gretzky ... Big Bertuzzi, once with the Vancouver Canucks and now with the Detroit Red Wings, bashed Colorado's Steve Moore with a sucker punch back in March 2004. Two days later, he broke down in tears before the media. As for the Phoenix Coyotes' head coach, who has now lost most of his front-office support staff including GM Mike Barnett, Gretzky has been long remembered for his tearful farewell from Edmonton to Los Angeles in 1988. Who ever said grown men don't cry?
***
FINALLY: Who said the Ol' Columnist doesn't get any e-mail? Just in the last 24 hours, I've heard from such suspects and their one-liners as Oscar Vegas: Getting thinner can be enjoyable ... Sidney Maxwell: Become fit and happy ... Gerald Baez: Look in the mirror and enjoy yourself ... Betsy Whitt: Obesity is dangerous, stop it. Incidentally, I didn't open any of this "hazardous" material even though I should lose the weight.
And somehow, the humourous columnist struggled through with the adage of: "Listen, you imbecile, there is only one way anybody should compose and that is upon a manual typewriter."
Some how, after a mountain high pile of scribblings, I sometimes wish I had listened to Lewis' advice. But I didn't. Instead during the past couple of decades, my knowledge has expanded from computers, which always seemed to malfunction, to advanced technology and now, within the past six months, I have "graduated" to the edge of another universe, called blogging.
As I've said before, the question is no longer "what's your sign?" but has sprouted into "what's your blog sign-on?"
And so in order to show my knowledge in this "art," I'm ready to give a few lessons from How Stuff Works.com.
So what is a blog, Professor?
Well, as the manual says, "a blog is a lot like an online journal or diary. The author can talk about anything and everything. Many blogs are full of interesting links that the author has found. Blogs often contain stories or little snippets of information that are interesting to the author."
However, that doesn't mean I'm about to tell you how I almost landed the "Big One" off Bass River on my blogs.
So, I'll just continue:
"Even though blogs can be completely free-form, many blogs have a focus. For example, if a blogger is interested in technology, the blogger might go to the Computer Electronics Show and post entries of the things he/she sees there. If a blogger is interested in a certain disease, he/she might post every news article and every piece of research he/she finds on the disease."
Say, Corbett, you're typing up all that information from the website, aren't you?
Alright, you caught me, but they are a great boon to a reporter, who's pressed for time and without much effort, he/she can get a new perspective, for as the howstuffworks site said, "there are now millions of them."
For a writer, who now has created at least five blogs, stuffed with columns and other trivia, it's been great, but what would Lewis think?
I think I know the answer, for Grizzard, if he were alive today, he would still be advocating the use of a manual typewriter and even citing the Bible as a reference point.
"Then they ask, "Where in the Bible?" Lewis wrote. "And I say, "The book of Royal," and they say there is no book of Royal in the Bible, and by that time I'm halfway down the street and the conversation is over." Incidentally, Royal was the name of the typewriter brand he always used.
To make another point, the man with the Southern drawl, cited the computer virus as the bane of society with these words: "It's been all over the news that something called Michelangelo, probably an evil spirit, could get into computers and wipe out everything stored in them. Great industries could be brought to their knees. Kingdoms could crumble. Authors could kill themselves in droves."
Then he also offered this bit of wisdom: "Do you think if Margaret Mitchell had done "Gone With the Wind" on a computer, and it had disappeared because of a dog's indiscretion, she would have gone to all the trouble of rewriting GWTW?"
Perhaps, it's fortunate that Lewis Grizzard has passed on to that Great Typewriter Heaven in the sky. After all, he would cringe at a veteran scribbler not only knowing how to blog, but also considering learning about iPods, etc.
***
CRY ME A RIVER: Although I promised not to haul out The Book of Lists again, a couple of "criers" made me do it. Yes, two hockey players made the List: Todd Bertuzzi and the Great One, no not Sid Crosby, but Wayne Gretzky ... Big Bertuzzi, once with the Vancouver Canucks and now with the Detroit Red Wings, bashed Colorado's Steve Moore with a sucker punch back in March 2004. Two days later, he broke down in tears before the media. As for the Phoenix Coyotes' head coach, who has now lost most of his front-office support staff including GM Mike Barnett, Gretzky has been long remembered for his tearful farewell from Edmonton to Los Angeles in 1988. Who ever said grown men don't cry?
***
FINALLY: Who said the Ol' Columnist doesn't get any e-mail? Just in the last 24 hours, I've heard from such suspects and their one-liners as Oscar Vegas: Getting thinner can be enjoyable ... Sidney Maxwell: Become fit and happy ... Gerald Baez: Look in the mirror and enjoy yourself ... Betsy Whitt: Obesity is dangerous, stop it. Incidentally, I didn't open any of this "hazardous" material even though I should lose the weight.
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