According to data from the Department of Education’s Office of Civil Rights, black and Latino students are suspended and expelled at much higher rates than white students

John E. Deasy, superintendent of the Los Angeles Unified School District… said the district reduced its annual suspensions from 50,000 in the 2009-2010 school year to 8,000 this past school year, in part because of a new policy eliminating “willful defiance” as a reason for suspension.

"I noticed the fog was lifting. Presently I could see blue sky. I brought the boat to the surface, and we continued our course above water.  A few minutes after we emerged I sighted on the horizon a forest of masts and stacks.   At first I thought they must belong to several ships.  Then I saw it was a great steamer coming over the horizon.  It was coming our way.  I dived at once, hoping to get a shot at it.

"When the steamer was two miles away it changed its course.  I had no hope now, even if we hurried at our best speed, of getting near enough to attack her. I called my pilot, and old-time captain of the merchant marine, to take a look at her through the periscope.  At that instant, while he was coming in answer to my call, I saw the steamer change her course again.  She was coming directly at us.   She could not have steered a more perfect course if she had deliberately tried to give us a dead shot.  A short, fast run, and we waited.

"I had already shot away my best torpedoes and he'd left only two bronze ones - not so good.  The steamer was four hundred yards away when I gave an order to fire.  The torpedo hit, and there was a rather small detonation and immediately afterward a much heavier one.  The pilot was beside me.  I told him to have a look at close range.  He put his eye to the periscope and after a brief scrutiny yelled:

"'My God, it's the Lusitania!"

Perhaps the most shocking transfer thus far has been that of MaxPreps All-American and 247Sports.com's No. 1-ranked rising junior Joshua Jackson. The 6-6 star is leaving a defending state champion in Michigan for unknown start-up Prolific Prep, a new program in Napa Valley, Calif., founded by trainer Jeremy Russotti.

...I was privileged to speak to the graduating class of Yale this year, and it was particularly a pleasure because it happened to turn out to be, literally, I hate to say it, 48 years to the day that I was privileged to speak as a graduating senior to my own class. And I talked to them about sort of the world we’re in right now, but at the end I tried to remind them all, which I remind you of, we are – I get always a little uptight when I hear politicians say how exceptional we are – not because we’re not exceptional, but because it’s kind of in-your-face and a lot of other people are exceptional, a lot of other places do exceptional things.

Former Pittsburgh Steeler star Center Ray "The Ranger" Mansfield died in the Grand Canyon on Saturday, November 3, 1996. Ray had been hiking with his son and another companion when problems with an ankle caused him to begin to fall behind them. He told the others to go on ahead and that he would catch up with them later that evening at the campsite. He never showed up. His body was found the following morning sitting with his back against a big rock, cigar in hand, facing a magnificent vista where the sun would have set the previous evening. The initial Park Service report lists the cause of death as natural causes. Ray's family has a history of cardiac illness and there were no other signs of external trauma. He was the sixth hiker to die in the canyon since July.

Apparently hiking in the Grand Canyon was a favorite activity of Ray's and he had been doing it every year for some time now.

http://www.bobspixels.com/kaibab.org/misc/gc_rm.htm

It's about freedom and liberty and the ability to decide and craft our own fate and the ability to transcend class differences by our own ability, something lacking in much of the rest of the world. The extent that it it is lacking these days is an indictment of the cancer of Progressivism that's worked its way into American institutions, causing the country to be more like the world was prior to America: classes, races, codes limiting speech, and government institutions used against individuals.

This spring, the Michigan athletic department admitted what many had long suspected: Student football ticket sales are down, way down, from about 21,000 in 2012 to a projected 13,000-14,000 this season.

The department has blamed cell phones, high-definition TV and student apathy sweeping the nation. All real problems, to be sure, but they don't explain how Michigan alienated 40 percent of its students in just two years -- and their parents, too.

How did Michigan do it? By forgetting why we love college football.

Dan Doornink was born in Yakima, raised in Wapato and went to Washington State University. But he didn’t come to the Seahawks until 1979 after playing his rookie season with the New York Giants, who had selected him in the seventh round of the 1978 NFL Draft. In seven seasons, he played in 92 games and started 44 at running back and fullback. In ’79, he finished second on the team in rushing (500 yards) and receiving (54 catches). He did it again in the strike-shortened 1982 season, with 178 rushing yards and 22 receptions. But Doornink’s most-memorable moment came in a 1984 wild-card playoff game against the defending Super Bowl champion Los Angeles Raiders at the Kingdome. He carried 29 times for 126 yards as the Seahawks won 13-7, and did it by repeatedly running the same play – “Check with me, 34 and 35.”

“After we had run the same play about 30 times, I was in my stance and I was looking at Howie,” Doornink said years later – referring to Howie Long, the Raiders’ All-Pro defensive end. “Howie gave me this look, as if to say, ‘You’re not going to run that same play again?’ I winked at Howie and shook my head, ‘Yep, same play.’ ”

Asked about the late December afternoon in ’84, it’s Long who now shakes his head.

“I remember turning to Matt Millen and I said, ‘Dan Doornink.’ And I’ve said it probably 300 times since I retired: ‘Dan Doornink.’"

You may visit this store ONLY ONCE! There are six floors and the value of the "products" increases with each floor. You may choose a husband from any floor, or you may choose to go on to the next floor - but you cannot go back down except to leave the store!

An article on Oct. 10, 1905, described the efforts of Sir Alfred Harmsworth, an aristocratic London publisher, to “send corps of experts to American colleges” to teach them the correct way to play “socker.”

Gwynn was born in Los Angeles, California to Charles and Vandella Gwynn.  He grew up in Long Beach, California with older brother Charles, who became a teacher, and younger brother Chris, who also became an MLB player. Gwynn's father worked from 7:30 A.M. until 5:00 P.M., and he also coached Pop Warner football and Little League Baseball; his mother worked from 5:30 P.M. until 3:00 A.M. His parents instilled in him the value of being prepared.

“I was pissed off then and I am even more so now with everything going on,” former Sgt. Matt Vierkant said,CNN reports. “Bowe Bergdahl deserted during a time of war and his fellow Americans lost their lives searching for him.” Vierkant, who was part of Bergdahl’s platoon when he disappeared that June, said Bergdahl should face a military trial for deserting in accordance with the Uniform Code of Military Justice.

Nathan Bradley Bethea, who served as an infantry officer from 2007 to 2014, made similar comments toThe Daily Beast. “Bergdahl did not ‘lag behind on a patrol,’ as was cited in news reports at the time,” Bethea writes.

“There was no patrol that night. Bergdahl was relieved from guard duty, and instead of going to sleep, he fled the outpost on foot. He deserted. I’ve talked to members of Bergdahl’s platoon—including the last Americans to see him before his capture. I’ve reviewed the relevant documents. That’s what happened.”

“The Taliban knew that we were looking for him in high numbers and our movements were predictable,” said the comment, written by an anonymous poster who used military jargon and claimed to have been there.

“Because of Bergdahl, more men were out in danger, and more attacks on friendly camps and positions were conducted while we were out looking for him,” it continued. “His actions impacted the region more than anyone wants to admit.”

Those sentiments were underscored in a long series of tweets that were posted Saturday night and went viral online. Using the Twitter handle @CodyFNfootball, the writer said he was on base at the time and believes that Bergdahl planned his escape for days, leaving between 3 and 4:30 a.m., when there was the least amount of light. The following day, the troops there questioned Afghan children nearby, who said they had seen an American crawling through weeds.

“While searching for him, ambushes and IEDs picked up tremendously,” one of the tweets said. “Enemy knew we would be coming.”

The Washington Post contacted the individual running the Twitter account but received no reply. Like the Rolling Stone comment, however, the tweets included enough specifics about Bergdahl’s unit and location to be regarded as potentially credible by many discussing the case.

He had a notable physical defect - his right arm ended in a stump just below the elbow, with a kind of vestigial thumb - that he made no effort to disguise, and I used to wonder how he could do things that clearly required two hands. He always wore shoes with laces - never slip-ons - and I asked him one day how he was able to tie them.

“What do you mean, how?” he growled. “Like this!” Then he bent over, and with his stump and his left hand, swiftly untied and retied one of his wingtips.

Silber despised political correctness — an attitude that extended even to his own physical deformity.

I recall with delight the time his harried executive secretary walked into the room where he was meeting with several staff members. Laying some papers on his desk, she griped that she had been “busier than a one-armed paperhanger.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she began apologizing profusely. “Oh, Dr. Silber,” she gasped, “I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I said that!”
“Why?” he deadpanned. “I’m not a paperhanger.”

It is the year 2081. Because of Amendments to the Constitution, every American is fully equal, meaning that no one is smarter, better-looking, stronger, or faster than anyone else. The Handicapper General and a team of agents ensure that the laws of equality are enforced. The government forces citizens to wear "handicaps" (a mask if they are too handsome or beautiful, earphones with deafening radio signals to make intelligent people unable to concentrate and form thoughts, and heavy weights to slow down those who are too strong or fast).

One April, 14-year-old Harrison Bergeron, an extremely handsome teenage genius, is taken away from his parents, George and Hazel, by the government. George and Hazel are not fully aware of the tragedy. Hazel's lack of awareness is due to "average" intelligence, which in 2081, is the politically correct way of referring to someone of well-below-average intelligence. George does not comprehend the tragedy since the law requires him to wear the radio ear piece for twenty-four hours a day because he is of above-average intelligence.

Hazel and George are watching a ballet on TV. Hazel has been crying, though she cannot remember why. She remarks on the beauty of the dance. For a few moments, George reflects on the dancers, who are weighed down to counteract their gracefulness and masked to cover up their good looks. They have been handicapped so that TV viewers will not feel bad about their own appearance and hence will feel equally as talented and good-looking. Because of their handicaps, the dancers are not very good. A noise interrupts George's thoughts: two of the dancers onscreen hear the noise, too; apparently, they must wear radios as well.

Hazel thinks George looks exhausted and urges him to lie down and rest his "handicap bag", 47 pounds (21 kg) of weight placed in a bag and locked around George's neck. He says he hardly notices the weight any more. Hazel suggests taking a few of the weights out of the bag, but he says if everyone broke the law, society would return to its old competitive ways. Hazel says she would hate that. A noise interrupts the conversation, and George cannot remember what they were talking about.

On TV, a news reporter with a speech impediment attempts to read a bulletin. After 30 seconds, unable to even say "Ladies and Gentlemen", he hands the bulletin to a ballerina to read. Hazel commends him for working with his God-given abilities and says he should get a raise for trying so hard. The ballerina, wearing the most grotesque mask of all, and with weights meant for a 200-pound (90 kg) male, begins reading in her natural, beautiful voice, then apologizes and switches to a growly voice so that she will not sound nicer than anyone else. The bulletin says that Harrison has escaped from prison.

A photo of Harrison appears on the screen. He is wearing the handicaps meant to counteract his strength, intelligence, and good looks. The photo shows that he is 7 feet (2.1 m) tall and covered in 300 pounds (140 kg) of metal. He is wearing huge earphones, rather than a small radio, and big glasses meant to blind him and give him headaches. He is also wearing a red rubber nose and black caps over his teeth. His eyebrows are shaved off.

After a rumbling noise, the photo on the Bergerons' TV screen is replaced with an image of Harrison himself, who has stormed the studio. In an attempt to overthrow the government and its handicapping systems, he says that he is the emperor, the greatest ruler in history, and that everyone must obey him.

Then he rips off all of his handicaps. He says that the first woman brave enough to stand up will be his empress. A ballerina, presumably the one who reads the report, rises to her feet. Harrison removes her handicaps and mask, revealing a blindingly beautiful woman.

He orders the musicians to play, saying he will make them royalty if they do their best. Unhappy with their initial attempt, Harrison conducts, waving a couple of musicians in the air like batons, and sings. They try again and do better. After listening to the music, Harrison and his empress dance. Defying gravity, they move through the air, flying 30 feet (9 m) upward to the ceiling, then, still in the air, they kiss each other.

Diana Moon Glampers, the Handicapper General, comes into the studio and kills Harrison and the empress with a shotgun. Turning the gun on the musicians, she orders them to put their handicaps on in ten seconds, or the same fate will happen to them. The Bergerons' screen goes dark. George, who has left the room to get a beer, returns and asks Hazel why she has been crying. She says that something sad happened on TV, but she cannot remember exactly what. He urges her not to remember sad things. A noise sounds in George's head, and Hazel says it sounded like a doozy. He says she can say that again, and she repeats that it sounded like a doozy.

Perhaps most revealing of Tebbetts's character is his recollection of an umpire who suffered dizzy spells following his return from the war. Afraid of losing his job, the umpire asked Tebbetts, then the Tigers catcher, to help calling balls and strikes, and Tebbetts tipped him off with hand signals following each pitch.

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

"I have never realized the 'pomp and circumstance' of glorious war before this," a Confederate soldier bitterly wrote, "Men...lying in every conceivable position; the dead...with eyes open, the wounded begging piteously for help."

"All around, strange mingled roar - shouts of defiance, rally, and desperation; and underneath, murmured entreaty and stifled moans; gasping prayers, snatches of Sabbath song, whispers of loved names; everywhere men torn and broken, staggering, creeping, quivering on the earth, and dead faces with strangely fixed eyes staring stark into the sky. Things which cannot be told - nor dreamed. How men held on, each one knows, - not I."

Each battle was a story of great courage and audacity, sometimes of miscommunication and foolishness. But it's the casualty numbers that catch our eyes. The numbers roll by and they are hard for us to believe even in these days of modern warfare. Shiloh: 23,741, Seven Days: 36,463, Antietam: 26,134, Fredericksburg: 17,962, Gettysburg: 51,112, and on and on (in most cases, the South named battles after the town that served as their headquarters in that conflict, the North named them after nearby rivers or creeks - so "Manassas" for the South was "Bull Run" for the North; "Antietam" for the Union was "Sharpsburg"  for the Confederacy).

General William T. Sherman looked at the aftermath of Shiloh and wrote, "The scenes on this field would have cured anybody of war."

If you are able
Save a place for them inside of you,
And save one backward glance
When you are leaving for places
They can no longer go.
   
Be not ashamed to say you loved them,
Though you may or may not always have.
Take what they have left
And what they have taught you with their dying,
And keep it with your own.
   
And in that time when men feel safe
To call the war insane,
Take one moment to embrace these gentle heroes
You left behind.

I Have a Rendezvous with Death
By Alan Seeger 
 
I HAVE a rendezvous with Death     
At some disputed barricade,     
When Spring comes back with rustling shade     
And apple-blossoms fill the air—     
I have a rendezvous with Death             5
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.     
 
It may be he shall take my hand     
And lead me into his dark land     
And close my eyes and quench my breath—     
It may be I shall pass him still.      10
I have a rendezvous with Death     
On some scarred slope of battered hill,     
When Spring comes round again this year     
And the first meadow-flowers appear.     
 
God knows 'twere better to be deep      15
Pillowed in silk and scented down,     
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,     
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,     
Where hushed awakenings are dear...     
But I've a rendezvous with Death      20
At midnight in some flaming town,     
When Spring trips north again this year,     
And I to my pledged word am true,     
I shall not fail that rendezvous.

In Flanders Fields... by John McCrae        

In Flanders fields the poppies blow   
Between the crosses, row on row,   
That mark our place; and in the sky  
The larks, still bravely singing, fly   
Scarce heard amid the guns below.        

We are the Dead. Short days ago   
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,   
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie   
In Flanders fields.        

Take up our quarrel with the foe:   
To you from failing hands we throw   
The torch; be yours to hold it high.   
If ye break faith with us who die   
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow   
In Flanders fields.

Accidents may call up the events of the war. You see a battery of guns go by at a trot, and for a moment you are back at White Oak Swamp, or Antietam, or on the Jerusalem Road. You hear a few shots fired in the distance, and for an instant your heart stops as you say to yourself, The skirmishers are at it, and listen for the long roll of fire from the main line.
 
You meet an old comrade after many years of absence, he recalls the moment that you were nearly surrounded by the enemy, and again there comes up to you that swift and cunning thinking on which once hung life and freedom--Shall I stand the best chance if I try the pistol or the sabre on that man who means to stop me? Will he get his carbine free before I reach him, or can I kill him first? These and the thousand other events we have known are called up, I say, by accident, and, apart from accident, they lie forgotten.
 
But as surely as this day comes round we are in the presence of the dead. For one hour, twice a year at least--at the regimental dinner, where the ghosts sit at table more numerous than the living, and on this day when we decorate their graves--the dead come back and live with us.
 
I see them now, more than I can number, as once I saw them on this earth. They are the same bright figures, or their counterparts, that come also before your eyes; and when I speak of those who were my brothers, the same words describe yours.

"I shall go out to Arlington tomorrow, Memorial Day, and visit the gravestone with my name and my wife's on it, and be stirred by the military music, and, instead of bothering about the Unknown Soldier shall go to another stone that tells beneath it are the bones of, I don't remember the number but two or three thousand and odd, once soldiers gathered from the Virginia fields after the Civil War. I heard a woman say there once, 'They gave their all. They gave their very names.' Later perhaps some people will come in to say goodbye."

"Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?"   
"I'm going to join the Colours, Dad; They're looking for men, they say."   
"But you're only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad; You aren't obliged to go."   
"I'm seventeen and a quarter, Dad, And ever so strong, you know."        

"So you're off to France, Young Fellow My Lad, And you're looking so fit and bright."   
"I'm terribly sorry to leave you, Dad, But I feel that I'm doing right."   
"God bless you and keep you, Young Fellow My Lad, You're all of my life, you know."   
"Don't worry. I'll soon be back, dear Dad, And I'm awfully proud to go."        

"Why don't you write, Young Fellow My Lad? I watch for the post each day;   
And I miss you so, and I'm awfully sad, And it's months since you went away.   
And I've had the fire in the parlour lit, And I'm keeping it burning bright   
Till my boy comes home; and here I sit Into the quiet night."        

"What is the matter, Young Fellow My Lad? No letter again to-day.   
Why did the postman look so sad, And sigh as he turned away?   
I hear them tell that we've gained new ground, But a terrible price we've paid:   
God grant, my boy, that you're safe and sound; But oh I'm afraid, afraid."        

"They've told me the truth, Young Fellow My Lad: You'll never come back again:   
(OH GOD! THE DREAMS AND THE DREAMS I'VE HAD, AND THE HOPES I'VE NURSED IN VAIN!)   
For you passed in the night, Young Fellow My Lad, And you proved in the cruel test   
Of the screaming shell and the battle hell That my boy was one of the best.        

"So you'll live, you'll live, Young Fellow My Lad, In the gleam of the evening star,   
In the wood-note wild and the laugh of the child, In all sweet things that are.   
And you'll never die, my wonderful boy, While life is noble and true;   
For all our beauty and hope and joy We will owe to our lads like you."

Almighty and all present Power,
Short is the prayer I make to Thee,
I do not ask in battle hour
For any shield to cover me.

The vast unalterable way,
From which the stars do not depart
May not be turned aside to stay
The bullet flying to my heart.

I ask no help to strike my foe,
I seek no petty victory here,
The enemy I hate, I know,
To Thee is also dear.

But this I pray, be at my side
When death is drawing through the sky.
Almighty God who also died
Teach me the way that I should die.

Square of face with a burr haircut and Southern Indiana twang, Barrow was an army lifer.  Back in 1948, before some of his buck privates were born, he had escaped from Bloomington and a difficult stepmother by quitting school at age 16 and enlisting after forging his date of birth on the birth certificate. By the summer of 1967, when he received orders for Southeast Asia, he had served 19 years in the army, including nine with the Big Red One in Germany, without facing combat. He was one year from retirement but not ready to fade away. His military career would never seem complete, he believed, unless he did a Vietnam tour.

On the way into the jungle Sergeant George Smith had been told by a retreating soldier that Deltas first sergeant, Bud Barrow, was sitting on a log, waiting for them. Where was he? Barrow could hear the recovery forces before they spotted him. Shouts: "Who's there?" Then, staring down at him, there stood George Smith, and next to Smith was Ray Albin.

"Thank God, Top!" Albin shouted, seeing that Barrow was alive. There had been reports back at the NDP that he was dead.  

Another soldier called out, "Hey, first sergeant.  How ya doin'?"

Barrow broke down, his relief at being saved overwhelmed by the travail of the bloodbath.  He had been shot through both legs and had ninety-two pieces of shrapnel in his knees, back and buttocks, and more than that, his nostrils were aflame with a smell that he would never forget, the strong rotten smell of dead bodies.

"I ain't  doin' worth a damn," he said, weeping. "They killed all my boys."

In the recovery ward at last, Westmoreland moved down the row of men, pinning Purple Hearts.

"I just want to congratulate you," he said to Bud Barrow, the Delta first sergeant,

"Well, I'm not sure whether you oughta congratulate me or the enemy," Barrow responded.  "They're the ones who won that one." His mind raced back to the seventeenth, the denseness of the jungle floor, the Viet Cong shooting from the trees, the terror of being out there, the grief of losing so many of his boys.

Westmoreland pinned a Purple Heart on Barrow's pajamas and said, "Tell me sergeant.  What happened out there?"

"Well sir, we walked into one of the damned ambushes you ever seen," Barrow said.

"Oh no no no," Westmoreland replied briskly.  "That was no ambush."

"Call it what you want to," Barrow said. The combination of his wounds, the medication, and all he had been through allowed him to speak more bluntly to a general than he would have normally. "I don't know what happened to the rest of the people, but by God, I was ambushed."

"the basic question is whether NFL players were properly informed about the drugs they were being administered. There is also some question about whether they felt compelled to consent to the treatments because of the nature and culture of their workplaces. But the biggest question is: Who should be charged with thinking for the long-term, since players may only be thinking about what they need to do now to get back on the field as soon as possible? That is where responsibility for thinking long-term lies."

Today I feel like a girl. Can I shower with the cheerleaders?

Isn't this just super swell! Boys can be girls and girls can be boys and the school and the local District or Board of Education will drop everything else to make it happen. Now IF the school and the local District or Board of Education would spend as much time and effort TEACHING their dimwits something about Math, English, Grammar, Penmanship . . .

Funny, when a black person tries to be white, or vice versa and they go through constructive surgery to get these results all sorts of psychological disorders and the such are given to the person. In fact, many on both sides find it insulting.

First sentence of the article: "Isaac Barnett took a bold step last year: He told teachers and classmates at his Kansas high school that the student they had known as a girl now wanted to be accepted as a boy." This should have been the second sentence: "Billy Henson, a classmate, took an even bolder step this year. He told teachers and classmates at his Kansas high school that Isaac's behavior seemed bizarre to him." Isaac will now be class president, Billy will be released from custody after extensive interrogation and banned from attending Kansas public schools.

Oh the future of America. Soon we will have the first gay president. What do we call his partner? The "First Gentleman ?" It's time for the Earth to start over again, call in the doomsday asteroids.

And this classic, by someone known only as  "Amanda"

(CNN) -- Racehorse California Chrome will be allowed to use a nasal strip while racing in the June 7 Belmont Stakes, New York racing officials decided Monday.

The decision by representatives of the New York State Gaming Commission, the New York Racing Association and the Jockeys Club ends a ban on the strips at Belmont. It keeps alive the the 3-year-old's bid to win horse racing's Triple Crown after winning this year's Preakness Stakes and Kentucky Derby.

The horse's trainer had said his owners might not allow the horse to raise without the strip, which the manufacturer says allows horses to breathe more freely and reduces the risk of bleeding in the lungs during heavy exertion.

California Chrome has worn the strips during its last six wins, including first-place finishes at the Kentucky Derbyand Preakness Stakes.

“After today’s meeting with the Rams, we collectively feel it is best to postpone the project,” said Sam’s agent Cameron Weiss. “This will allow for Michael to have a total focus on football and will ensure no distractions to his teammates. Everybody involved remains committed to this project and understands its historical importance as well as its positive message.”

I was interviewing George Halas and I asked him who is the greatest running back you ever saw. And he said, 'That would be Red Grange.' And I asked him if Grange was playing today, how many yards do you think he'd gain. And he said, 'About 750, maybe 800 yards.' And I said, 'Well, 800 yards is just okay.' He sat up in his chair and he said, 'Son, you must remember one thing. Red Grange is 75 years old.'      Chris Berman, ESPN

Michael Sam's decision to do a "documentary series" -- reality TV show -- on the Oprah Winfrey Network is a gigantic tactical error for Sam and his supporters within the LGBT community.

America, for the most part, would wrap its arms around Michael Sam, the gay, underdog football player fighting to find his place in the NFL. America, for the most part, will reject Michael $am, the gay, in-your-face political/media pawn using the NFL as a platform to launch his celebrity brand.

I am a Utah man, Sir and I live across the green,
Our gang is the jolliest that you have ever seen.
Our Coeds are the fairest and each one's a shining star,
Our yell you'll hear it ringing through the mountains near and far

Who am I Sir? Utah man am I!
Utah Man, Sir, will be till I die!


We're up to snuff, we never bluff, we're game for any fuss
NO other gang of college man dare meet us in the muss
So fill your lungs and sing it out and shout it to the sky
We'll fight for dear old crimson for a

U…     TAH…    MAN…   AM…   I!

“Your use of racially charged language, intentional or not, was reckless and created an environment where others in the space felt it was necessary to correct your behavior. More broadly, your actions caused reasonable apprehension of harm to the community.”

Federal health officials recommended Wednesday that hundreds of thousands of Americans at risk for AIDS take a daily pill that has been shown to prevent infection with the virus that causes it.

If broadly followed, the advice could transform AIDS prevention in the United States — from reliance on condoms, which are effective but unpopular with many men, to a regimen that relies on an antiretroviral drug.

It would mean a 50-fold increase in the number of prescriptions for the drug, Truvada — to 500,000 a year from fewer than 10,000. The drug costs $13,000 a year, and most insurers already cover it.

"I had thought from the first time I say him in Phoenix (when he was a rookie. HW) that Willie Mays as the greatest natural athlete of our time.  He well may be.  But it was not until the visit to Atherton, twenty-three years after his last season in the majors, that I really recognized what a conscious athlete Mays has been.  This great slugger and batsman and baserunner, the man who caught more fly balls than anyone else in history, was very much a thinking ball player.  If you want to get along with Willie Mays - and it is said that not everybody does - you best begin by roping the old hackneyed cartoon of Willie Mays as a sorter of gifted, cosmic simpleton, a Steppin  Fetchit with a glove.

"A salient factor in Mays' extraordinary and eventful life is the color of his skin.  Mays is a black man.  He is proud and self-aware.  His way is not to march, like Martin Luther King, or to address Congress like Jackie Robinson, or to renounce Christianity like Muhammad Ali.  Willie's way is to pooping out - and only to those he trusts to understand the message - that there is more to the black athlete than speed and strength and leaping. The great black athletes, Mays suggests, have deep intelligence even as he himself played with such profound intelligence in making he most famous of all baseball catches.

"Still thinking about the catch, I remarked in Mays' den, that if he had gone into football, he would have been the greatest wide receiver of all time.

"He laughed easily and said, 'You may be partly right.  Football was my best sport, but I wasn't a receiver.  I played quarterback in high school.  We used something like the shotgun formation.  One of my favorite plays was a jump pass.  Come up to the line of scrimmage, like it's a run, then jump and throw.  We had a good team.  We were unbeaten in my senior years in high school.'

"How far could you throw a football?"

"In the air? While I was jumping?"

"In the air."

"Sixty yards."

"How many colleges came after you?"

"None."

"You could throw sixty yards in the air?  Your team went undefeated?  And not a single college offered you a scholarship?"

"I was a quarterback," Mays said, "and I was black.  In 1950 a black kid wasn't allowed to play quarterback in a white college.  Nobody came after me.  Nobody offered me a football scholarship, even though football was absolutely my best sport."

"How much American history, I wondered, has been etched by bigotry?  I tried to contemplate baseball without Willie Mays.  I attempted to imagine Mays as the greatest quarterback in football history, but the baseball uniform, the Giant uniform, kept getting in the way.  My mine spun like Mays making the throw. Willie's manner has mostly been genial, and on the surface, accepting of the way things are. That may be why I never stopped and considered how profoundly racism, determined his career.  In his generation, Mays could not have played professional football, or professional basketball, or professional anything else, except baseball. In effect, the greatest of all ballplayers played baseball by default."

Seven months before working with Roethlisberger, the tutor dubbed “The Quarterback Whisperer” heard a stat that created a seismic shift in his thinking. A Miami Dolphins assistant quoted a study showing 52 percent of their quarterback drops resulted in having to make adjustments due to pressure.

“It’s like someone told me exactly where aliens were,” Whitfield said. “We were going to start devoting half of our training to evading chaos. It can’t always be five-step drop, give me a bullet right there.

“We’ve got to learn to throw on the run. We’ve got to increase the quality of life for these guys. Even when my shutters are banging I’m good because I have been through all this training.”

At the age of twenty, Mickey Mantle had arrived, batting .345 with two home runs. "NIce series, young man," Bud Rennie said. "What are you up to now?"

"Headin' back to Oklahoma.  I got me a job working down in the mines."

"Work in the mines? The winning share is more than $6,200.  You don't have to do that now."

'Yes I do," Mantle said. "You know my dad died, and I got seven dependents who're counting on me." Mantle named three brothers, a sister, his mother and his wife.

"That's six," Rennie said.

"A baby is due in March," Mantle said. "I don't know whether I'll be in the electrical crew or the pump crew or whatever."  The Yankees' slugging hero of the series smiled pleasantly. "I'm just lucky the mining company offered me a job."

Michael Joseph Patanelli
Position: E
Height: 6' 2''  Weight: 215
 
Born in Elkhart, IN, USA
High School: Elkhart (IN)
College: Bowling Green State University, Ball State

Played for the 1947 Brooklyn Dodgers with a record of 3--10--1

"A lot of people don't know this, and they always talk  about Jackie Robinson being the first black in professional sports, but Bill Willis and I were playing at Cleveland in 1946, a year before Jackie got to Brooklyn. The reason he got hired, Branch Rickey made the statement that if Bill Willis and Marion Motley can play a contact sport like football, Jackie Robinson should be able to play a  non-contact sport. I give Paul Brown credit for BIll and myself getting a chance to play pro football. At that time the league had kind of an unwritten rule about blacks not playing , but Paul didn't think too much of a rule like that.  He was taking  a chance in those days because a lot of people didn't want black players doing anything in pro sports.

Paul talked to Bill and myself and he told us that people were going to be laying for us. 'They're going to call you names and they're going to try to hurt you.   It's up to you to take it, and take whatever they give out.'  It was tough.  I'd be on the ground, and they step on my hands with those damn old cleats.  My hands were always bloody, but if either Willis or myself had been hotheads and gotten into fights and things like that, it would have put things back ten years. Blacks would have never been accepted like they were.   Sometimes I wanted to just kill some of those guys, and the officials would just stand right there.  They'd see those guys stepping on us and hear them saying things and just turn their backs.

"That kind of crap went on for two or three years until they found out what kind of players we were.  They found out that while they were calling us 'ni--ers,' I was running for touchdowns and Willis was knocking the sh-- out of them. They stopped calling us  names and started trying to catch up with us."

(The censorship is mine. HW)

From "Iron Men," by Stuart Leuthner, 1988

"After the war it was a tougher game. We were part of the American tradition in the old-fashioned meaning. We were raised to love your God, respect your elders, and fear no son of a bitch that walks.  That's why we won World War II. In the 1940s, right into the middle 1950s, you couldn't be an athlete and not have been in the service.  Those guys who came out of World War II were different kinds of people. I knew them and played with them and they were fearless. After all, most of them didn't have easy duty. They were in the infantry, something like that. A lot of our players didn't come back, and you can check the list of pro football players who died during the war. A lot came back wounded and lame and were never able to play again.

"I've talked to a lot of people about it, and coming out of World War II, having seen the frustrations and the violence of the war,  it had to affect the players and the game they played. When was the last time you saw a dead body? I guess that's what I'm trying to say. Most of us never saw one before we got in that war, and then we saw so much, so mug of that stink and rot, that when we came back to play football, we played like terrors. We were tough.  Everybody used to say, "What outfit was he in?" That was what you asked a guy, not what school he went to. You'd see somebody really getting into something on the field. 

"What outfit was he in?"

"He was a Marine."

"Ohhhhh."

"Guadalcanal."

"Ohhhhh."

"You'd just shake your head."

***** Coach Jake Von Scherrer, most recently AD at Palmer Trinity School in Palmetto Bay, Florida, has just been named head coach and AD at Turlock Christian School, in Turlock, California.  He's got his work cut out for him: the Turlock Christian Eagles were 1-9 last year, and most of the losses were by BIG scores.  The lone win came by way of a forfeit.

***** Coach Chris Davidson has been named head coach at Tenoroc High in Lakeland, Florida.  I first met him in 1994 when he was on the staff at Abington High, outside Philadelphia, my wife's alma mater, where head coach Doug Moister was the first "outside" coach willing to run my "new" double wing.  In 1995 I visited him at his first head coaching job, at Phillipsburg-Osceola High in upstate Pennsylvania, and he's since gone on to coach in North Carolina and Maryland. Tough assignment: in six years of playing high school football, Tenoroc has won a total of 11 games, and only two in the last two years.  They gained only 80 yards rushing for the entire 2013 season, and their only win was by forfeit.

***** Coach Juan Cotto has been named head coach at Seattle's Franklin High.  His first head coaching job was at Burien, Washington Highline High, and last  season he was an assistant at powerhouse O'Dea Catholic.  Franklin was 2-15 over the last two seasons, and has posted just one winning season in the last ten years.

The new rules:
• Allow football student-athletes to participate in preparations for the season during an eight-week period each summer. Those weeks can include eight hours per week of required weight training and conditioning. Up to two of the eight hours can consist of film review. Student-athletes who participate in the summer activities must be enrolled in summer school or meet specific academic benchmarks.

my personal measure for how much narcissism has increased in our country is how often I am crowded off the sidewalk by a group of people walking down the sidewalk who fail to move to one side to let those walking in the other direction get by. What is remarkable to me is how in many cases, it is obvious that practically forcing someone into the street does not even register in their brains. Just a small indicator of a much bigger problem our society faces.

Toughness
Discipline
Inspiration
Teamwork

If you want to go some place because they’ve got a huge Nike deal and they have cool uniforms, you’re really choosing college for the wrong reasons. We go the other way. We’re looking for people who actually get it. Your four years are over, and just because you wore cool uniforms in college that’s not going to feed your family when you’re 30. If you don’t understand that, shame on you. If you’re looking for all the bells and whistles, you’re looking for pretty gadgets or a marketing tool, we’re not that. We’ll give you one of the best educations in the country and you can come play for a football program that’s going to win championships.

Q: What do you want your identity to be? What do you want people to think of when they think of RedHawks football?

Martin: Hard to play, not fun to play. They’re going to keep coming at you. They don’t really care what the score is or what the situation in the season is. We want to be like that kid who likes to fight. He may not even be the strongest or the meanest, but if you beat him up on Monday and Tuesday, he wants to fight you again. That kid you never want to get in a fight with because you know it’s never ending. You get sick of beating him up and by Thursday, it’s getting old and he’s still coming at you. We want to have that mentality of somebody who’s going to come to work every day and compete every day and love to play the game.

Greetings,

The Seattle Seahawks in conjunction with WIAA, USA Football and the Washington State Football Coaches Association (WSFCA) is offering an opportunity to High School and Middle School football coaches to attend an Introduction to "Heads Up Football".

Where: Seattle Seahawks training facility (VMAC)
When: Wednesday, May 14th - 5:30 to 7:30pm
Registration: No fee to attend
Clock Hours: WIAA will provide three (3) coaching clock hours for attending.
How to Register - Click on this link and submit your registration.
http://www.wiaa.com/FormEntry.aspx?ID=90

John Urschel, the Penn State All-American guard who claimed the 2013 William V. Campbell Trophy from the National Football Foundation (NFF) as college football’s premier scholar-athlete, has been named the winner of the 84th Sullivan Award, presented by the Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) to America’s top amateur athlete. The live announcement occurred during an awards ceremony on Friday, April 11 at the AAU National Headquarters in Orlando, Fla.

Urschel was selected from a pool of 19 semifinalists vying for the honor in 2014, and the Penn State All-American joined two other finalists, University of Florida track and field athlete Cory Ann McGee and University of Nebraska volleyball player Kelsey Robinson, for the live announcement of the winner at the event in Orlando.

First presented in 1930, the Sullivan Award honors an athlete who demonstrates the qualities of leadership, character, sportsmanship, and the ideals of amateurism. Past football recipients of the Sullivan Award include College Football Hall of Fame inductees Felix “Doc” Blanchard (Army, 1945), Arnold Tucker (Army, 1946) and Charlie Ward (Florida State, 1993), and NFF National Scholar-Athletes and William V. Campbell Trophy winners Peyton Manning (Tennessee, 1997), Tim Tebow (Florida, 2007) and Andrew Rodriguez (Army, 2011).

NEW YORK, N.Y. — June 10, 2010 — Herman Lewis Masin, the longest-serving editor of one magazine in American history, and among the most influential figures in the field of interscholastic athletics and coaching, died on June 8, 2010. He was 96.
After graduating from New York University in 1936, he got his first and only job as editor ofScholastic Coach. He held that job until December 2008 – editing the publication and writing his column, "Here Below," from a mechanical typewriter. Mr. Masin was born in Bronx, NY, on June 21, 1913. He died of natural causes.
Under Mr. Masin's leadership, Scholastic Coach published one of the first articles written on modern strength training in November 1949. In 1972, long before anabolic steroids became a controversial issue, the magazine published an article on its use by European track athletes, written by U.S. discus champion L. Jay Silvester.

Perhaps even more significant was Mr. Masin's campaign for safer blocking rules in football. The use of the head as a battering ram had resulted in numerous catastrophic head and neck injuries over the years, and Herman used his column to raise awareness of this danger. When the National Federation of State High School Associations finally passed a rule prohibiting the use of the top of the head in blocking, the executive director wrote to say that the new regulation should be called, "The Masin Rule."

Throughout his tenure with Scholastic Coach, Mr. Masin also cultivated many young, promising coaches including Al Davis, Jack Ramsay and Ben Schwartzwalder, all of whom had articles published in the magazine. He also corresponded frequently with Coach John Wooden, who passed away at the age of 99 on June 4.

I believe the election will be a no vote runaway. University is running a classic anti-union campaign, speech from Fitz on no need for 3rd parties to come between us, letters to parents (usually it’s sent home to the employee so wife gets to read) and oh by the way team you should know, in the pipeline and completely unrelated to the union, there will be an additional helmet option and everyone will get an ipad next season.

I put the over/under on yes votes at 10.

Monken called for a kicker following a scrimmage-like practice on Wednesday. The kicker jogged onto the field without full pads and was sent to the sideline.

Monken asked for another kicker in full pads and only one ran onto the field. The coach told the rest of the special teams to go to the locker room and come back in full pads.

After the period, Monken asked the special-teams group why they thought it was all right to not wear full pads during practice.

"That's what we did last year," one player said.

That's not the answer Monken wanted to hear. Kickers and punters stayed after practice. Monken told them to drop to the turf and roll across most of the field in full pads.

"I want everybody to pay attention to all the little things, every detail, and that's a little detail," Monken said. "When you take the field and you are not properly equipped, you are not allowed to play and it's a penalty on the team. So come out to practice appropriately in the dress of the day, that's easy to do. Just do it right. It wasn't just them, there were some other guys."

You might be a redneck if: It never occurred to you to be offended by the phrase, 'One nation, under God.'

You might be a redneck if: You've never protested about seeing the Ten Commandments posted in public places.

You might be a redneck if: You still say 'Christmas' instead of 'Winter Festival.'

You might be a redneck if: You bow your head when someone prays.

You might be a redneck if: You stand and place your hand over your heart when they play the National Anthem.

You might be a redneck if: You treat our armed forces veterans with great respect, and always have.

You might be a redneck if: You've never burned an American flag, and don't  intend to.

You might be a redneck if: You know what you believe and you aren't afraid to say so, no matter who is listening.

You might be a redneck if: You respect your elders and raised your kids to do the same.

You might be a redneck if: You'd give your last dollar to a friend.