'Twas A Night In October

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'Twas a night in October When The Boss would come play
   To Hartford, Connecticut Cindy and I made our way...

We left around 2 on a warm autumn day
   And took 91-South singing Bruce all the way
It doesn't get any better for Cindy and me
   Than a Bruce Springsteen concert, and the pit, hopefully

The XL Center was tonight's concert setting
   We wanted pit tickets, we were hoping, we were betting
We got there by 3, good timing we thought
   But Cindy had forgotten the band-aids she brought

So back to the car she goes while I wait
   She's a pain in the neck, but still the best Springsteen date
We'll sing, dance, and cheer tonight, when our hero appears
   Like we've done many times over the last ten years...

James Maddock vs. Bruce Springsteen

      In the world of Bruce Springsteen fandom, of which I am an exclusive member, I'm about to speak blasphemy. Here goes: I recently had a concert experience that I enjoyed as much as, if not more than, a Springsteen show. There it is, I said it. And I'm sticking to it.

     
     Now compared to the JFK assassination conspiracy, and Pluto not being a planet after all, this declaration is not much of a great, historical revelation. But for the five or six friends and family members who read this incredibly unpopular blog, that statement I'm sure comes as quite a shock. If Jesus Christ is the savior of my soul, then Bruce Springsteen certainly is runner-up.

     
     Two weeks ago, a slightly lesser known and much more under-appreciated songwriter and musician named James Maddock left me with the same feeling I get upon leaving a Springsteen show: A high no drug could duplicate, a soul-stirring warmth no religious sermon could top, and a refreshing, optimistic perspective on life so desperately needed for a lonely and boring middle-aged man living an existence of banality between Boss concerts and basketball seasons.

A Mother's Day Wish

     

     Mom knows as well as anybody, what are without a doubt my two biggest passions. One, of course, is basketball.  Ever since I was six years old, not a day has gone by where I wasn't either playing basketball, watching basketball, coaching basketball, or thinking basketball.  As a kid, I'd willingly shovel the driveway during the winter, not for Dad, not our driveway, but the driveway next door, because they had a basketball hoop where I could shoot when I was finished.  Though my childhood NBA dreams faded quickly, I still played through high school, and later became a Park & Rec, and then a high school coach.

     Through it all, Mom was there every step of the way.  Driving me to practice and to games for twelve years.  Cheering for me when I led my 3rd grade T-Bird team averaging 4 points per game, up to when I was lucky getting 4 minutes of playing time per game on the high school varsity.  Dad was there supporting me as well, but in a different way:  In an analytical, constructive way--in a way where I use that perspective as a coach today.  But Mom, she was my stability, the one I could always count on as my number one fan, whether it was with a ride when I needed one or by collecting write-ups from the sports page when my name was in it. Or by not making an issue over my late night drunkenness the night I quit the varsity team my senior year, when under any other circumstance I would have been severely punished and grounded "indefinitely".  At 46 now, nothing has changed.  She's still my #1 fan, even if she doesn't like me as much now that I'm a loud and temperamental coach, and not that quiet and shy six year playing Biddy Basketball.  

Bruce Springsteen's "Rocky Ground"

     The greatest rock musician and songwriter of all time has once again proven himself worthy of that distinction with an incredible combination of rock, soul, gospel, and lyrical brilliance on his new album, Wrecking Ball.  Throughout a career spanning five decades, Bruce Springsteen has repeatedly invoked religious, biblical, and Catholic imagery in his music.  "I'm stuck, it's a part of me, it's there for good" Bruce has often quipped about his Catholic upbringing and its influence upon him (for better and worse) before introducing the song "Jesus Was An Only Son" in concert.

     More often, Bruce will let his lyrical theater speak on its own spiritual merit, from "The Promised Land" to "Adam Raised A Cain" to the the majority of songs on albums Tunnel of Love and The Rising.  To know Springsteen music is to know the ethereal.  

     His new song "Rocky Ground" is another high in Bruce's catalog of both the reverence and irreverence of the spiritual and cultural issues of today and of all of history.  The gospel teachings of the Parable of the Sower proves itself as powerful today as it ever was.  And with subtlety, elegance, and a poetic call for spiritual introspection, Bruce shares with us another gem.

The Art of Dan

     It's now official. I've become my father. This is no surprise—our comparable personality traits and mannerisms have been quite obvious for a long time. But it was only recently that the apple fell directly under the tree at the exact same time that the chip came off the old block.

     It happened at the end of basketball practice. The team huddled for a customary cheer and some motivational words from one of the team captains. Far from garrulous and certainly not the most poetic, Lance offered up a hodgepodge of bland and uninspiring words:

      “Okay, guys...good practice today...Umm...Hmm...Let's see...Um...Okay, 'Brotherhood' on three, ready...One, two, three...” (all together) 'Brotherhood' the team mumbles out of sync.

      The team breaks their huddle and I can't let them go without voicing my displeasure over Lance's mundane choice of words.

      “That was just awful” I say as the guys make their way to the locker room. “Worse than awful. For tomorrow you better make sure you give me something a helluva lot better than that. Give me something from Sun Tzu.”

At that Dan turns and mutters partially toward me and partially under his disgruntled breath, “Why's it always gotta be from Sun Tzu?” Instantly irritated by Dan's petulance I snapped backed loudly, “Because I said so!” My glare followed Dan as he left the gym. Him shaking his head and me wanting to wring the neck attached to it.