#BuckFiftyADay: I Once Resented Guys Like Stuart Scott

Been trying to think of a different kind of take on Stuart Scott, whom I met in or around 1984 as a student at UNC Chapel Hill. Here’s what I’ve come up with. There was a time in the early 90s that I resented the hell out of guys like Stuart, who went on SportsCenter and did more than tell us the score. Why? I guess because they became celebrities and when they’d show up to cover games they’d be greeted by players with hugs and smiles while those of us who were working the beat were pretty much regarded as green flies. Over time, I realized Stuart, Dan Patrick, Keith Olbermann and others were rock stars who basically created a popular genre. So, more power to ‘em. Sports should be fun. I can’t say I knew Stuart well, but I think he had fun. May he rest in peace.

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#BuckFiftyADay: It's Not Like I Didn't Try in 2014

A few things I tried this year. Writing songs. Yeah, for about a month I went on a song-writing binge. I sent them to my friend Sam Lardner, a musician in Barcelona. He ended up doing this and said my writing inspired him. Now, let me tell you, what Sam produced was nothing like what I wrote, but it was nice of him to say. I interviewed for non-sports writing jobs like, public relations for a senior living company, editor of TCNJ’s alumni magazine and manager of sponsorships for TD Ameritrade. I was a finalist for those positions. I didn’t get any of them. Selling cars. I went to a week of training, where I learned how we’d sell cars an “open and honest way.” But when we weren’t selling enough cars that way, we went back to the old back and forth to the manager thing. And I quit.

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#BuckFiftyADay: A Love Note to Doug Flynn?

When I was a kid playing ball, I became enamored with the way Mets’ second baseman Doug Flynn could turn a doubleplay. It seemed the ball would barely touch his glove and it would somehow be on its way to first base. I did not care that Flynn could not hit. Watching him around the bag was mesmerizing. I would practice trying to Turn it Like Flynn. I’d also try to mimic the swings of George Brett, Fred Lynn and Jerry Remy. When I became a baseball writer, I still had crushes on certain players’ actions. Ken Griffey Jr. Everything about Junior was beautiful to watch. But my adoration wasn’t reserved for stars. For example, I had a thing for Pokey Reese. The way he threw across the diamond. Pokey Freaking Reese. What’s the point? I guess, for me, the game I love will always be about falling in love.

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#BuckFiftyADay: Workaholism, Not My Thing

I am probably the only person in the world who watches athletic events during the holiday season and sees a disease known as "workaholism." You see a full lineup of NBA games on Christmas Day and I see a bunch of dads who are working when they should be with their kids. You see the Bowl games in all their glory and I think of all the people in my business who routinely kiss the wife and kids goodbye to go to work long, strange hours. I also think how lucky I was, for 14 years, to be able to cover a lot of big events while still coaching Little League, making lunch for my kids and being around most nights to help them with homework. Honestly, a bigger paycheck could not have swayed me to work more hours than I was already working. Workaholic.That’s not who I am.

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#BuckFiftyADay: The Greatest Is

I saw the verse recently. Saw it for the millionth time. Only for some reason, it touched me deeper than ever. It is from 1st Corinthians 13:13. Three things will last forever--faith, hope, and love--and the greatest of these is love. Amen. Not religious? No problem. John Lennon put his own spin on it. All you need is love. Or as Southside Johnny sang, Without love, there's nothing you can do. In 2014, it was the love of my wife and kids that made me realize just how lucky I am.  No need to get into the details of the last two years. If you know me at all, you know where I've been. At times I've felt unlucky. At other times I've felt like, well, maybe what goes around comes around, and I've only gotten what I deserved. But through it all, there is still love. Lots of it.

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#BuckFiftyADay: And it was Good

Having blood on the field has never been easy for me. I'm talking about having family involved in major sporting events. It started with my brother Scott, who broke in to the big leagues around the time I was beginning my career as a sportswriter. Then came my brother Bob, who became a pro soccer coach, eventually the coach of the U.S. national team, as I was having my best years professionally, as a writer for ESPN The Magazine. Then came Bob's son, my nephew Michael, who became a player for the U.S.  A key player. It's been overly emotional. I've mostly watched from afar. But last Sunday, I took my wife and son to see Michael play for the U.S. against Turkey. I saw him create a goal with a deft assist. I heard the crowd, many wearing his jersey, chanting his name. And the emotions were amazing.

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#BuckFiftyADay: Tom Yohe, Shooting Star

Each and every one of us has seen a shooting star, someone who comes through our life in a flash and then disappears. In 1987, I took a job as the assistant director of sports information at Harvard University. I was 23 years old. The quarterback at Harvard was a kid from Crown Point, Indiana, named Tom Yohe. We listed him at 6-feet, but he didn’t look more than 5-9. Yohe was a tough S.O.B. who led the Crimson to the 1987 Ivy League title, winning “The Game” at Yale Bowl - a winner-take-all championship game -- on a frigid afternoon. Anyway, I’d heard in the past few years that Yohe went on to produce NFL games on Fox, and was very good at his job. And then last week, I heard he’d passed away at the age of 46. A shooting star, for sure. Rest in Peace.

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