Ray Rice and the power of pics

Spend enough time on the Internet and eventually you'll come across the meme "pics or it didn't happen." Usually this is in response to some exaggerated tale from some anonymous person bragging about some feat that is so amazing, so astounding that the only way it could be believed is if there is some sort of documented photographic evidence to support the claim. It's basically the Internet's way of making that guy in middle school who says "yeah, I've got a girlfriend, but she goes to school two towns over and anyway you wouldn't know her but she's really hot and I totally got to second base" actually prove it.

While there may be some actual instances when it's used in seriousness, I've seen it used mostly as a joke. It's a fun way to call b------- on internet braggers.

That brings us to Ray Rice. The former Baltimore Raven initially suspended for two games after video surfaced of him dragging his then-fiance (now wife) out of a hotel elevator in February. The underwhelming punishment, especially in light of the NFL's seemingly haphazard punishment system, led to an outcry from pretty much everyone who said it wasn't enough. NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell said it was a mistake and changed the league's policy regarding domestic violence punishments in the future. (Just don't ask them about San Francisco 49er Ray McDonald.)

Well, Monday video surfaced showing Rice striking his fiance in the elevator and it's as appalling as you'd think a video of a man paid to withstand a physical pounding on his body knocking a woman unconscious would be. Suddenly there was new outrage. Within a few hours, the Ravens cut him from the team and a short while later, the NFL suspended him indefinitely (which one writer likened to a guy showing up at the end of a bar fight after it's over and yelling at the losers "yeah, you better be glad my friends are holding me back.)

What changed between the initial suspension and the current one? Just the video. Goodell tried to defend the league by saying they didn't know the details of what happened inside the elevator until Monday. Most of the smart people I've read on this seem to believe that either the NFL had seen the video before Monday or they didn't want to see the video to claim plausible deniability. Taken at face value, which you shouldn't, he's admitting there may be a justifiable reason for a professional football player knocking his fiance out cold. More cynically, the NFL hoped they could sweep this under the rug and it would all go away.

Either way, the NFL seemed to be basing its decisions on the "pics or it didn't happen" approach. Only, in this case, the guy really did have a hot girlfriend two towns over and he had the pics to prove it. As Patrick Hruby wrote, "The NFL isn't reacting to the video, they're reacting to the fact we saw the video."

Dear Facebook Moms

Dear Facebook Moms,

Hi there. How are you? Good? Glad to hear it. Things going well? Your little tyke learning and growing still? New adventures every day, huh? That's awesome and I'm excited for you. You've got a hard job there, being a mom and all. It comes with a lot of responsibilities and not nearly the recognition you deserve. Kudos to you for taking an active role in your kid's life.

But here's the thing. I see you on Facebook asking each other advice on a variety of things. Some of them are big things like how to get your kid to sleep through the night. Others are, let's say, less pressing in nature. Where to find the proper bookbag for school or maybe just looking for ideas for where to take your children for a fun Saturday afternoon. Whatever it is, you're on Facebook looking for answers and there's nothing wrong with that.

However, nearly every time I see you ask, you're only asking other moms. In fact, most of the time your posts start out "Ok moms, I'm looking for ...." as though us dads have absolutely no clue what's going on. But I want to let you in on a little secret. Dads know stuff. Not all the stuff, but we have some of it. You don't ask, however.

I realize there's a possibility that there's nothing to it and you're not intentionally ignoring a sizable group of your Facebook friends when it comes to advice. It may just be a language thing similar to how I say "alright guys, come over here" to the soccer team I coach despite it being 50 percent girls. Then again, maybe years of clueless husbands on television have resulted in you believing that dads really don't know anything and asking our opinions would be about as helpful as asking my five-year old to explain the ending of The Sopranos.

As I've said, you've got a difficult job as a mom. You're under-appreciated, if you're appreciated at all for what you do. So don't try to take everything on yourself. You may be surprised to know what us dads know if you'd ask us from time to time.

Thanks for your time,

A Facebook Dad

Air Bud through a child's eyes

So we decided to have movie night tonight. Actually, my wife lost track of time and suggested movie night around 8:15 p.m., or as it's known during school nights, my son's bed time.

But it was a Friday night and while we do have plans on Saturday morning, there's nothing stopping us from making Saturday afternoon nap time, so we searched around on Netflix for something we thought we'd all enjoy.... or could tolerate that would also be fun for a 5-year old. When my son heard about Air Bud, the movie about a dog who plays basketball, he was immediately all for it.

The movie came out in 1997, my freshman year in college, so while I knew of it, I don't know that I'd ever seen it. But I know it turned in to quite the little franchise with Buddy, the Golden Retriever in the movie, going on to star in several other sports movies. I figured it'd be fine for us to watch.

Before we could start it, my son got blankets and pillows on the floor and told my wife she would be laying on the floor with him to watch the movie.* He got some of his stuffed animals out to watch with us (strangely, no dogs) and we all settled in for family movie night.

*My wife is not one who stays awake for movies. It's to the point where I don't let her pick what we watch because 30 minutes in she'll be asleep and if I'm going to end up being the only one watching, I'd rather it be something I want and not, say, The Notebook. I tell you to this to say she feel asleep about 30 minutes in to the movie.

The movie's going along fine (and there may be some spoilers in here, as much as you can spoil a 17-year old movie) with the basic plot being a family finds the dog after he's abandoned by a comically villainous clown who treats Buddy like dirt. Buddy and Josh the kid in the movie, become fast friends and since Josh just moved to a new town, Buddy is essentially his only friend.

At some point Josh learns Buddy can play basketball, which coincidentally is Josh's dream to play for the school team. The two play together in a park and though convenient plot twists, Josh makes the team and Buddy becomes a mascot for the team and also performs tricks at halftime.

Just before the championship game, our clown villain sees that Buddy has become famous and wants him back for his act. He dognaps him from Josh.

Here's were family movie night takes a turn. At Buddy's dognapping, my son starts crying. Nothing major, just tears running down his face while we tell him the movie's not over and we need to see what happens.

Well, what happens is that Josh dognaps Buddy back, but in an emotional scene, Josh tells Buddy that he knows Buddy isn't really his dog and he sets him free. Of course, being a dog, Buddy doesn't understand this, so Josh starts yelling at him to just go and says something to the effect that he doesn't want Buddy anymore.

Now we're in full-on crying. We're throwing things in anger and wanting to turn the movie off. It's at this point I realize we haven't watched enough movies for him to see the familiar build to a climactic scene of conflict only to know it'll be resolved shortly. For all my son knows, Josh is being mean to Buddy for no reason and he doesn't understand there's more to the movie.

This being a Disney movie, Buddy shows up at the team's final game and has to end up playing. The dog leads a comeback and Josh's team wins the middle school state title (I had no idea such a thing existed.) But there's one final courtroom scene where the villain comes back to try to get his dog one more time. Through movie magic, it's decided that Buddy can decide who he wants to live with. Outside the courtroom, Josh and the villain are placed on either side of the courthouse lawn with Buddy in the middle. It looks initially as though Buddy is going with the clown, causing my son, once again, to break into sobbing. Even after the dramatic turn where Buddy (SPOILER ALERT) chooses Josh, my son's still crying.

My wife, who has woken up at this point, is constantly reassuring him that it's just a movie, but it's as though the whole thing happened outside our window to our son. Part of me feels awful for him that he sees this as so traumatic. Part of me wonders at what age we realize the structure of movies and how they're going to end up. For now, all I do know is we won't be watching any of the Air Bud sequels anytime soon.

I don't care if I ever get back

We took our son to his first Major League Baseball game earlier this year in Atlanta. We did the whole thing like stereotypical fans. We got him a hot dog. Later we got him ice cream in one of those mini helmets. We did not get peanuts and Cracker Jack because it's not 1923 and because, honestly, we did care if we ever got back. We watched the best player of today's generation (Mike Trout) as well as the best player of the previous decade (Albert Pujols) bot hit home runs. We saw the Braves rally from a 5-1 deficit to tie it up in the 9th inning and then stayed for the 10th.

With the game still tied and the attention span of my five-year old and the four-year old of the other couple who was there with us nearing its end, we called it a night and headed for our friends house for the night. Driving there, my son wanted to listen to the game on the radio, so we did with  the Angels eventually defeating the Braves in the 13th inning. All in all, he seemed to have a good time and enjoyed his experience.

So on the 4-hour trip back home the next day, my wife and I asked him about his experience and what he thought about seeing his first big league game. He said it was fun, but he actually liked going to the Savannah Sand Gnats, our local minor league team's games, more.

"It's not so loud and it's not so crowded," he said.

So this past weekend, we took him and a friend to a Savannah Sand Gnats game. The Sand Gnats play in "Historic Grayson Stadium." Historic is usually a code word for "old" and in this case, the stadium is old. Originally constructed in 1921, the stadium underwent major renovations in 1941 following destruction from a Category 2 hurricane in August of 1940. Spanish-American War veteran Gen. William L. Grayson spearheaded the campaign to raise the $150,000 needed to rebuild the stadium that now bares his name.

Fun at the ballpark.

Despite being old and lacking the amenities of modern stadiums, Grayson Stadium is a fine place to watch a ball game. The outfield wall is plastered with ads from local business. So many, in fact, that I couldn't tell you one of them on the wall because they all ran together. I think there was maybe one for a law firm, but I really couldn't tell you. If those organizations' goals were to support baseball in Savannah, they succeeded. If they wanted to get their message out to potential customers, well, in this instance, they failed miserably. The aisles are wide enough for my son and friend to run around and play without really bothering anyone else.

This particular Friday night turned out to be a great night to go. As has been the case for as long as I can remember, there's no parking fee. We parked maybe 200 feet beyond the right field wall and walked right up. Also that night, the team was collecting canned goods for those less fortunate, so for a few donations, the four of us got in free. On top of that, it was bobblehead night at the ballpark, so each of us got a Gnate the Gnat bobblehead, which is exactly as cool as it sounds. (We got there early to make sure we got one, my parents, who also came to the game, showed up late and didn't get one. They weren't too upset about it.) The weather was unseasonably cool for a July night, with game time temperatures in the mid-70s at first pitch.

One thing about Minor League games is fans' allegiance to their favorite Major League team doesn't carry over. The Sand Gnats are located in Braves territory, and looking around the stadium, there was no shortage of Braves fans on hand. However, they all seemed to be rooting for the Sand Gnats, who are the affiliate of their division rivals, the New York Mets. Despite that, the fans had no problem wanting to see Savannah play well and defeat the Lexington Legends (of the Kansas City Royals.)

But it wasn't just Braves fans (and the two Royals fans I saw) there. I had on my Cubs hat, as apparently other people did too. As I was in line to get a drink, a guy walked by, saw my hat and said, "hey, another Cubs fan, that's the fifth one I've seen tonight." From my seat, I counted several Orioles fans, a few Reds fans, a Mets fan and one guy down front who was wearing a Montreal Expos hat. There was also a smattering of Yankees fans as well as a guy in a Brewers cap.

Midway through the third inning, the boys start to get restless, so my wife and mom took the boys to the jump castles while dad and I watched the game. The stadium underwent additional renovations in 2009 in which they installed giant fans above the seats to create a comfortable breeze during the game. And other than the obstructed view seats where posts block your view, there really isn't a bad seat in the stadium.

My wife hates this. I love it.

Despite being one of the lowest levels of the minors, there are players from this level who eventually go on to become stars. Among those who have played for the Sand Gnats who have gone on to have success in the Major Leagues are Adrian Beltre, Edwin Encarnacion, Travis Hafner and Ryan Zimmerman. On this night, I wanted to see Dominic Smith. He's a 19-year old first-baseman rated among the top-50 minor league prospects in all of baseball. He did not have a night to remember. Smith went hitless with two strikeouts and was tossed from the game for arguing with the umpire after striking out in the 7th. Truth be told, he probably should have been ejected in the 5th for arguing, but the umpire was in a more forgiving mood than I would be. All in all, not a good night for Mr. Smith, but in the unlikely event he becomes a star, I can say I saw him way back when.

There's a chance the Sand Gnats may be leaving Savannah. The team wants the city to build a new stadium with more modern amenities and if they don't, they've threatened to leave, with Columbia, SC seeming to be a likely landing spot for the team. I'd be disappointed if they left, but I can understand a city not wanting to spend $30 Million on a new stadium when I'm sure there are other things the city could spend that money on. If they do leave, It'll mean we have to drive an extra 25 minutes (one way) to get to the nearest minor league team. We'd still do it, it'd just be different. Or we'll just go to games when we visit my in-laws. And my bobbleheads would likely go up in value as they'd become rare collectors items for that small subset of fans who really, really, REALLY like Minor League mascot bobbleheads.

Eventually the boys make it back from the jump castles in time for the last few innings of the game. We'd probably head home at this point if it weren't "Kids run the bases" night at the ballpark. But that's what I like about Minor League games, there's always something to attract and keep fans engaged (and, presumably, spending money.) My son and his friend were both extremely excited about the opportunity to run the bases, even if Gnate was going to be at home plate.

You see, my son doesn't like giant mascots. From the local college team's Eagle to Gnate to any others, he is anxious around them. Sure, they're all smiling and welcoming, but I can't get him to go stand next to a mascot for a picture. Sadly, my Photoshop skills are also not that great, so I can't even pretend he's done it. But now, if he wanted to run the bases, Gnate would be awaiting him when he completed his trip.

Finally the game ends with a 5-2 Savannah win and the kids all line up. The friendly young woman in charge is very clear that parents are not able to run the bases with their kids so we have to wait down the third base line for them to finish and then they'll find us when they finish. The kids all patiently wait their turns as they walk make their way down the first base line. From there, they're supposed to say their name (not shout it, we're instructed) into the microphone and then circle the bases.


Soon it's my son and his friend's turn and they start running. They're both careful not to pass the person in front of them (more of the rules) and when my son finally gets to home plate, instead giving Gnate a high-five like the other kids, my son gives Gnate a huge hug and then runs over to find us with a big smile. When we asked him why he gave Gnate a hug, he said "because I love him."

Overall, he and I had a much more enjoyable experience than the Major League game. It was more relaxed, less crowded and overall a more fun atmosphere. Sure, he skipped out on some of the game to play in a jump castle and sure it's likely none of the players we saw will ever be Major League All-Stars, much less Hall of Famers, but the game was fun and we had a good time.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

I work at a small college. I love my job. I love getting to interact with students. I love being around people who have dedicated a good portion of their adult lives to learning and want to share that information with others. I love that both my wife and I work at institutions of higher learning and hope that fact makes an impression on our son that we value education.

But there’s one aspect of my job that I can’t stand. I absolutely despise it and have gone on a one-person crusade against it.

I hate when college students call me “sir.” Hate it. Look, I get it, they’re being polite and respectful and all that. But it’s entirely possible to be respectful without saying “sir.” Come in, shake my hand and be attentive while we’re talking – that’s respectful. I don’t need the added “sir” thrown in there. I'm not that formal.

Every time a student calls me “sir” I do two things. First, I tell them I’m not that old. They usually laugh sheepishly and apologize and say they were trying to be polite. Then I tell them in about 15 years when some college student calls them “sir” or “ma’am” they’re going to feel old and also think back to this meeting and say “that guy was right, I do feel old. That’s not cool at all.” Invariably, they’ll forget this and the next time they walk in to my office, they’ll call me “sir.” I tell them “I know we’ve gone over this before, you know you’re not supposed to be calling me sir.” They laugh, I smile and we move on.

If it were completely up to me, I’d have every student who comes in to my office to call me “Luke.” It’s the name I was given and I imagine that’s what my parents wanted people to call me. Having students call me that would be, in a way, respectful to my parents’ wishes. But I understand that probably won’t go over with the powers that be. I begrudgingly accept “Mr. Luke” as a title though I really don’t like it.

I realize by writing this there’s about a 100% chance of people I know who read this calling me “sir” just to mess with me. But if it’s really about respect, you’ll respect my wishes and call me what I want to be called, “Luke the Magnificent.”