I see Braxton as the preseason Captain, while JT will shoulder that job during the regular season until Cardale takes over as Captain in the post season.
+1 for the WBL well wishes to our league member Defiance, Hove.
Forget the 4.6 million, I'll not coach from my couch for a cool 1 million. (And even that is a very negotiable figure.)
That James Taylor/John Kerry duet of "You've Got A Friend" still brings a tear to my ear.
Best: Kid Rock (My friend was in the band so my lovely bride and I had all access, all weekend.
Worst: My 5th grade band concert. It was BRUTAL.
Buckeye jock straps.
He makes his real money in Advocare.
This will only work if Mark Emmert can be given a high enough position on the pyramid, and all of Braxton's earnings.
I'm not a professional athlete (yet), but caring for my ill parents in their home is like being in a museum about me. I did have to dismantle the First Wedding exhibit photos, though. It makes for a more pleasant atmosphere when the Second Wedding participants are in house for a live show.
So Harbaugh is entering the Wet T-shirt contest?
That'll teach you to run off and get an education. What were you thinking?
Chevy Chevette, it'll drive you happy! Thanks for the ear worm from that incessant jingle blast from the past.
Your first car was an 18-wheeler? Impressive!
As the months passed, the excitement was building to a fevered pitch. I was down to two weeks before getting my permit, sliding behind the wheel of my first love, and relentlessly pursuing what was rightfully going to be mine. It was truly the best day of my life.
Dad drove the object of my affection to work that day. On his lunch break, he motored downtown to get lunch. He had done that every day for 20 years at that time. This day was different. As he was no doubt enthralled with the testosterone boost that had to be automatically coursing through his veins while behind THAT wheel, a
heartless, maniacal, ignorant, spiteful BITCH lady blew a stop sign, and crashed broadside into my sure fire love machine. In an instant, much like I would later learn is common during early first encounters with such things of beauty, it was over. Totaled. Dead at the scene. Towed away, un-driveable. I didn't even get to say good bye.
There were dark days to follow. All the weeks, months, years of anticipation, gone. Then the thoughtful, caring, responsible, and practical adults took over. It was the 70's after all, but not the good 70's. It was the Energy Crisis, Gas Rationing 70's. It was best, I was told. Gas would have been way too expensive for me to even drive that gas hog anyway. My Uncle had a car that would be just perfect for me. Dad had already bought it from him so I would still have a car when I was old enough to drive a week later.
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. I dubbed her "Erectoblaster." In my mind, I knew it was over. My teen years were about to be reduced to only hauling dates that could not fit in the front seat. Cargo dates. Some extra weight over the axel for winter driving. Worse yet, these dates would last much longer than necessary because of Erectoblaster only having a top end of 50 mph, not to mention the extra time necessary for loading and unloading my dates. I give you my first car... the incomparable 1970 Opel Woody Wagon.
I made it 6 months with ol' Erectoblaster. I even managed to find a date that could both lay in the back and sit in the front. I couldn't continue the charade, however. I sabotaged her. Some relationships just aren't made to last. I next bought a 1968 Mustang and finally exorcised the demons thrust on me by the
Charger Killing Bitch lady who ran that fateful stop sign, and I have spent the rest of my days trying to shake the nightmares of pulling into school that first time, driving an Opel Wagon with simulated wood grain sides.
That's one small match for Stieber, one giant Championship for Buckeye Wrestling.
I've never tried that with beer, but I'm currently realizing that nothing ever stops me from running after a bag of Taco Bell.
Thank you, good sir, and all military Buckeyes past and present, for your service.
You do not come across as
sane bragging at all! Guys like me you should be shot commended for having the balls dedication to think I'm in shape training enough to see my feet complete this feat. In my imagination reality, most guys on this site couldn't hold my jock admire your physical prowess. Thanks for shattering my self image sharing your adventure! Now Just Do It!
Godspeed, LABuckeye! I ran a lot in my younger days, but mostly short, 5K type stuff. I recently started
waddling running to the fridge again, and have added 35 pounds of belly fat muscle since last August. Since moving into care for my elderly parents my new training facility, my time available to sit on the couch exercise has skyrocketed. Maybe sometime soon I'll watch a 50 mile race on TV join you for an epic 50 minute nap 50 mile race, myself! Best wishes for a strong finish!
Looks like the devil is in the details of that freshman scoring chart.
Thanks so much, fellow 11W members. The diversity of perspectives offered is encouraging, and it is humbling to be associated with such a caring group.
To shed a bit more light in response to some of the posts, I am the financial and medical POA for both parents. That was granted literally days before the bottom fell out of their ability to make such changes. So far as ability or experience, I worked in healthcare for over 20 years before my health issues took me out. I've given them injections, can start IV's, handle meds, bathing, meals... That's part of what makes the decision difficult.
I'm very familiar with the local nursing home circuit, having taken patients in and out of them for many years. I know the good ones, and the not so good, but all are far superior to where they were 30 years ago. But no nursing home compares to having a 1:2 caregiver to patient ratio.
Increasingly, my parents don't know where they are, and I'm sure the day will come that they no longer recognize me. That, in some strange way, will be easier than this. But while they still seem to know me, I have the time available, and the skill set necessary to provide first quality care, it's hard to make a move to an outside facility.
i am investigating getting additional help, even for a few hours a week, just to take a mental health break. Searching for a way to explain the feeling, I think GrandTheftHarley hit what I feel with his "die on a tatami mat" saying in his above post. It's what I pray for every day for them. Their mental health is gone. Their quality of life has been exhausted. This is the point where the vet tells you that it is best to put your pet down, and even cruel not to. With people, it's not so cut and dried. Their days have been reduced to repetitive, ritualistic behaviors that no longer include bathing, dressing, or going to the bathroom on their own. Yet they still call me by name, and thank me for what I do. It reminds me of something I learned early in my career. There are a lot worse things in this world than dying.
Thanks again for the feedback. You 11W guys are the best! Blessings to you all.