If you’re like me, you have no dog in the fight in this Super Bowl. Packers vs. Steelers may not do much for you, so you need something other than clever beer commercials to keep you entertained. The solution for you is prop bets. Yes prop bets, those wagers on the coin toss and everything else that could possibly happen before, during, and after the big game.
So, if you have loads of disposable income and a compulsive gambling problem, prop bets are for you.
How many times will FOX show Jerry Jones during the game?
Over/Under 2.5
I am not a betting man, but 20 bucks seems like a no-brainer here. Two and a half? They’ll have three shots of Jerry before the end of the first quarter. The game is being played in his stadium without his team. The TV cameras are going to try get him frowning, squirming, and half-heartedly applauding every chance they get and I have a feeling there will be no shortage of opportunities. You can bet on all of this and more with online betting sites, where they’re offering odds on everything. Just be sure to look for a reputable platform for safe betting, as there are plenty of 먹튀사이트 out there looking to take advantage of unsuspecting players.
Who will FOX show first during the game?
Jessica Szohr (Aaron Rodger’s girlfriend)
Ashley Harlan (Ben Roethlisberger’s fiancée)
I know you’re thinking what I’m thinking. Ben Roethlisberger has a fiancée!? The same Ben Roethlisberger whose escapades include allegations of sexual assault on two different occasions within two years? The same Ben Roethlisberger who nearly killed himself when he wrecked his motorcycle which he was driving without a license and without a helmet? The same Ben Roethlisberger who could win the award for “Doughiest Dude to Play Quarterback in the NFL?” That guy has a fiancée and I can’t get a third date with a girl? I’m rooting for Jessica Szohr here because seeing Ashley Harlan will just make me mad.
By Patrick Fitzgerald (originally posted to Flickr as spinning wheel) CC-BY-2.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0) via Wikimedia Commons
A real man measures twice and cuts once.
I’ve been blessed to have two really good grandfathers in my life. I love, and loved, both of these men very much.
One of them who is still with us was an engineer for most of his life. Growing up, I was always really impressed by how sharp and analytical he was (even if I had no place in my vocabulary for the word analytical back then).
There was no problem tmy granddad couldn’t solve. There was no complex issue he couldn’t get his mind around.
He could fix just about anything whether it was his car, his mower or his boat. As a really young boy, I fondly remember sitting in his garage and watching him tinker with his 1970s Chevy pickup truck, or as I called it back then, “Papa’s Kickup.” He was a great grandfather and I will always cherish the time he spent initiating me into the world of manhood.
Unfortunately, while he was gracious enough to pass on his analytical and problem solving skills to me, his skill and ability with all things mechanical was not. And while I could write a whole series of posts about masculine skills and values of one generation that are lost by those that follow, that’s not where I am going. In fact, this post isn’t even about him.
As I said before, I’ve been blessed to be have two really great men call me their grandson.
The other one, who passed away a little less than a year ago, worked in management at an AT&T factory on the west side of Oklahoma City for most of his time in the professional world. And while that job was a big part of who he was, this post is really more about the avocational side of his life.
You see, when he wasn’t interfacing between the engineers and end users of AT&T’s products, my mom’s dad was busy teaching himself the art of carpentry. By the time I was old enough to have a conversation with him, he was quite the skilled (and self-taught) carpenter.
If you needed something and it could be made out of wood, my grandpa could make it. He almost completely remodeled the house he bought after retiring. He built cabinets and card catalogs and all sorts of other useful wooden things for his church. I need two hands to count the number of things he made for me over the years: a really sweet contraption for cracking pecans, built-in shelves for my bedroom as a boy, more shelves for my first house, and cabinets for the laundry room of that same house are just a few I can recall off the top of my head.
Just like I was fortunate to see my other grandpa tinker and fix mechanical things, I was very fortunate to spend a lot of time with this one in his wood-shop or at my house as he sketched, measured, marked, cut, and built things out of wood.
And do you know what frustrated me more than anything?
He NEVER measured once. I’d watch as he’d take his tape measure or ruler and pencil and mark 8 or 9 different places on a piece of wood where he would eventually end up making cuts. That part took long enough as he was doing it the first time. But then, after he’d already measured it once, HE WOULD MEASURE THE WHOLE THING AGAIN!!!
As an impatient young boy, I remember thinking, “COME ON GRAMPS! CUT THE WOOD ALREADY!”
Yet he knew something I didn’t at the time.
I can count on one hand the number of times I recall him having to throw a piece of wood away after he started cutting it. The man NEVER made mistakes with his woodworking projects.
He always measured twice and as a result he never had to make more than one cut. He rarely got frustrated and had to start over.
As I got older I began realizing that this philosophy of measuring twice and cutting once was not just limited to his woodworking projects. It was something that flowed over into all other areas of his life. He was a man of precision and I will always appreciate that about him.
He taught me the importance of not going too fast; of slowing down and taking the time to be precise. He taught me that real men measure twice and only have to cut once.
I’m not a carpenter, and though I think I’d like to learn the skill some day, I’m not sure I have the aptitude for it. Fortunately, the idea of measuring twice and cutting once is a metaphor that applies to almost every other area of my life as well. It’s about making smart decisions. It’s about thinking long and hard before speaking. It’s about considering how what we do will affect other people.
At work, it’s about seeing all of the ramifications and possible effects of a new project or initiative BEFORE starting it. At home, it’s about thinking how what we do today affects who we become tomorrow.
I want to be a real man some day, and since a real man measures twice and cuts once, so will I.
We all knew this was coming. We could see it when he was at that small, Christian high school in Edmond winning four straight state championships. We witnessed him match up against the best collegiate talent in the country as he left us breathless and led the Sooners to the Elite Eight. Those of us in Oklahoma have known for years what the entire world is beginning to understand…Blake Griffin is pretty good.
No team has found a way to stop Griffin from getting to the rim (courtesy sportsjury.com)
Kobe and Lebron are the faces of the NBA, but this season, no player is hogging more highlight time than Griffin. The Clippers power forward is good for at least one jaw-dropping dunk per night and as a rookie, he’s already being mentioned among names like Karl Malone and Tim Duncan. Griffin may not be a superstar yet, but that day is coming soon. To those that say Griffin is overrated (you know who you are Skip Bayless), stop for a second to consider the evidence.
Through 41 games, Griffin is putting up 22.7 points, 12.7 rebounds, and 3.4 assists. Wednesday night against Minnesota, he finally snapped a streak of 27 straight games with a double-double. If you want to put Griffin’s numbers in perspective, he’s the only rookie in 25 years to record a double-double streak of 20 or more games. Shaq never achieved those numbers. Neither did Dwight Howard or Tim Duncan. Only eight players in NBA history have averaged 20 points and 12 rebounds in their rookie seasons. If Griffin keeps up his pace, he’ll be in a select club with household names like Wilt Chamberlain, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Elgin Baylor, and David Robinson.
If you still have a team alive in the NFL playoffs, you’re one of the lucky few. For the rest of us, mid-January leaves an empty feeling. College football season is officially over. Just reading that last sentence out loud is almost enough to make my eyes wet.
So now we can turn our full attention to basketball. Or can we? I’m sorry, I just can’t do it. I feel no buzz, no excitement, and no anticipation for hoops right now. I don’t think I’m the only one. In this state, no one is talking basketball. Sure, the newspapers and local media will cover the games because they have to, but trust me, the fan bases of our state schools are not fired up. There is far more interest in the next football season than there is in the current basketball season.
Part of that is simply the climate in our state. Oklahoma is a football state, always has been, always will be. Don’t get me wrong, there is plenty of basketball tradition here. Henry Iba, Eddie Sutton, Wayman Tisdale, Billy Tubbs, the Griffin brothers, Nolan Richardson, and countless others have contributed to the hoops history of Oklahoma. But the truth is, no matter how many Final Fours the colleges rack up, and no matter how many dunks Kevin Durant throws down, basketball is never going to overtake football in the hearts and minds of Oklahomans.
Brandon Weeden and Justin Blackmon will both be back for another season in Stillwater (courtesy tulsaworld.com)
Part of the basketball apathy is due to the unbelievable success of football in 2010 and what could transpire in 2011. OU is already one of the favorites to win a national championship, while OSU is getting its stars back and should start the season in the Top 10. Tulsa finished in the Top 25 for the first time in nearly 20 years, and the search for a new head coach is dominating the headlines in this part of the state. If there’s one constant in Oklahoma sports, it’s that it’s never too early to start talking football.
No, this post has nothing to do with a powerful political movement that’s sweeping our country. It’s about something way more important. A totally different kind of tea party.
As the father of a beautiful three-month old little girl, I just want to make sure I’ve covered all my bases in writing about what actually constitutes a real man should I ever receive an invitation from my daughter to attend a tea party (imagined or otherwise) that she’s hosting. That said, a real man is willing to sit down for a tea party with his daughter.
By attending a tea party as the honored guest of his daughter, a real man models for her the kind of man she should be interested in dating when she is of courting age.
The only other important thing I can add to this discussion at this time is this: a real man always remembers to stick his pinky out.
For the Oklahoma schools, the 2010 college football season came to a close last week. No need to stop talking football, however. It’s never too early to look ahead to 2011 and see what next season might have in store for the Sooners, Cowboys, and Golden Hurricane.
OKLAHOMA SOONERS
2010 was another banner year for Bob Stoops and the Sooners. OU will likely finish in the Top 10 when the final polls come out next week. With a 7th Big 12 title and those BCS demons finally exorcised, the Sooners will start 2011 as a favorite to play for the national championship.
UPSIDE – Ryan Broyles and Travis Lewis gave Sooner fans belated Christmas presents this week when both announced they will return to Norman for their senior seasons. Broyles is OU’s most reliable offensive weapon. This season he hauled in 131 passes for over 1,600 yards and 14 touchdowns. About his decision, Broyles said, “We’ve got a chance to be a very good team next season and I really want to be a part of that.
Linebacker Travis Lewis will return for his senior season at OU. (courtesy espn.com)
Lewis is the heart and soul of the Sooner defense. Although he’s rated as one of the top linebacker prospects in the country, Lewis is far from satisfied. “I’m coming back to win a national championship point blank,” Lewis said in an OU press release. “Anything else would be a disappointment.”
Along with Lewis, the Sooner secondary is young and cornerback could be an especially strong position for Brent Venables’ defense. Freshman Tony Jefferson and Sophomore Demontre Hurst more than proved themselves this season. The DB duo combined for 115 tackles, five interceptions, 18 pass break-ups, and three forced fumbles.
Inspired by a friend’s ode to his pickup truck, I decided to give an ode to something in my life that has been with me through thick and thin but that has, in fact, seen better days as of late. – M&M
Oh sleeping in… what a cruel cruel mistress you’ve been to me through the years. We’ve seen it all together, that is, as long as “all” occurred after 11 a.m.
I remember when I was just a wee lad, a school boy if you will, and my dad resorted to using a spray bottle to separate us as we lay there in my bed basking in the glory that was our time together. I may have been on time to school, but I never forgot you through the day because I knew you’d always be there for me the next morning.
In the summertime of my tween years, my parents instituted a 10 a.m. cut-off time on our blissful slumber together. I remember my mom calling from work around that time each morning to make sure I was out of bed. I must have been a bad liar or your influence on me was just too much, because she’d always know when we’d been together. Maybe she could hear it in my voice.
Either way, I’d leave you each day for a fun-filled afternoon of MTV’s beach house, little league baseball, or swimming in our above-ground pool. But then, like the bride of a soldier who awaits the return of her husband from battle, you were there waiting for me when I finally made my way back to our bed each night.
During high school, you never made me late for class, but you were the reason I rarely ate breakfast. It was you who made me forsake ironing my clothes. It was you who pushed me into the arms of hooded sweatshirts, nylon warm-up suits, and gym shorts. It was you who made me defy the normal limits of driving speed set by local authorities just to make it to class on time. And yet, I never complained because our love affair was deep and it was true.
When it comes right down to it, the type of soap you use has nothing to do with whether you’re a real man or not. Unless of course, you’ve been using Oil of Olay or any type of bath bar. In which case, you should seriously reconsider.
With that said, I’ve noticed a lot of television commercials for men’s soap recently (with the Old Spice ones clearly dominating the field) and so I thought I’d throw in my own two-cents on the subject. After all, if a real man is supposed to be comfortable in his own skin, shouldn’t we try to make our own skin comfortable?
Lava soap is, as M.C. Hammer might say, “Too legit to quit.” I mean, just look at the packaging. It’s simple and practical. It’s red, black, white (all very masculine colors) and it has a picture of a mountain in the background. And it’s not some mamby pamby pristine mountain top either. It’s a volcano. A volcano that could, at any given moment, violently explode without warning spewing tons of ash and fire into the atmosphere grounding all of the flights in Europe for over a week. And that’s just the packaging.
When I tear into a bar of Lava soap, I never cease to be amazed at the beauty and simplicity of these little green bars of manliness. I mean, sure, it’s just a bar of soap. But this is no ordinary soap. As the packaging says, it’s PUMICE POWERED! I like to refer to it as scruffy soap.
It’s the kind of soap that you instantly know can manhandle any amount of dirt or grease on your person at any time. Axel grease, no problem. Manure, easy. Motor oil, piece of cake.
It’s the kind of soap that a woman would only use on the heals of her feet. Don’t even try using it on a child unless you want to be ridden with guilt over the pain and anguish you’ll inevitably inflict on their tender young skin.
This is man soap. Lever 2000 may be good for all your 2000 body parts, but there’s a reason they call it LEVER and that’s because it LEAVES dirt and grime behind. Not Lava. Lava will literally scrape everything off that Lever leaves behind, including the top layer of your skin if you’ve been pampering it with Olay or some other ladies bath bar.
If you’re already using Irish Springs, Ivory, Zest, or some other gender-neutral soap product, please don’t hear me saying you have to go out and switch to Lava in order to be a real man. However, if you find yourself in the market for a new type of soap at any point in the near future, let me encourage you to give Lava a try. You won’t regret it (Unless of course you’re a baby, in which case you will regret it because it will make you cry. Then again, if you’re a baby, you’re probably not buying soap for yourself yet).
If you’re not convinced yet, perhaps the ultimate stamp of approval for Lava soap is this: it’s the only soap I know of that is regularly sold in hardware stores.
Lava soap… it’s pumice powered, so you know it’s good.
It’s Christmas Eve, but it’s not too late. There’s still time to pick up a few things for your kids. And no, I’m not talking about the Wii controller, the latest Xbox game, the flatscreen TV, or the new laptop. I’m talking about the gifts that will make memories for years; the gifts your kids will really appreciate when they get older.
Memory Makers
My best presents weren’t the Legos or the Gameboy or the sweatshirt. As I look back on my childhood Christmases, my favorite gifts were the ones that forced me outside. I remember the Nerf football, spongy and shining out of the box, that survived hundreds of sessions of pick-up football in the cul-de-sac until finally it was nothing more than a bare block of foam. It’s paint gone from all those incompletions scraping off the asphalt, it’s shape altered by the times the neighbor’s dog got a hold of it.
I remember the hockey sticks for my brother and the goalie pads for me. Gifts that turned our driveway into an imaginary rink. Gifts that transformed my brother into the overtime goal scorer, and me into the netminder who preserved a shutout with his spectacular glove save. Believe it or not, that hockey gear is still in my parents’ garage, and still gets use from time to time. Simple gifts that gave me my favorite times with my brother and inspired in me a love of hockey that I still possess today.
OK last minute ladies, after today, you only have two days left on the calendar to buy the perfect Christmas gift for the men in your lives. Don’t worry though, M&M is here for you just in the Saint Nick of time. Think of me as your very own procrastination destroying Elf on the Shelf.
For those of you deliberate last-minute shoppers who already know what you’re buying but for some reason get a rush out of braving the mall madness the last few days before Christmas, this post is not for you. In fact, I feel you on the last-minute shopping bidness. While I merely dabble in it personally, I do enjoy myself some serious people watching each year at the mall come December 23rd and 24th. It’s like the State Fair, only they don’t charge admission. The only thing that would make it better would be if I could chow down on a corn dog, a funnel cake, and maybe some fresh squeezed lemonade while watching the freak show that is last-minute shopping madness. And though that’s not the point of this post, a guy can dream can’t he?
So it’s December 22nd and you’re at a loss for what to buy that special dude. Maybe he’s your boyfriend, maybe your husband or brother, or maybe he’s your dad. Don’t worry, I’ve been all four at one point or another in my life and I’ve got you covered on all fronts. However, if you’re looking for a specific list of concrete suggestions, this post might not help you. If, on the other hand, you’re looking for general advice to get your own gift-giving juices flowing, then read on my deadline defying friend.
Only a week til Christmas, so its a little late for wish lists. I won’t be asking for anything extraordinary from my family and friends at this point. Get me the sweater, the book, the DVD, and I’m a happy guy.
But let’s pretend for a moment there is a sports Santa Claus. A sports version of St. Nick who is very interested in making the wishes of sports fans come true. Well Mr. Claus, I’ve been pretty good this year and I have a few requests.
Here is what I want for Christmas:
I WANT A COLLEGE FOOTBALL PLAYOFF
Don't the unbeaten Horned Frogs at least deserve a shot at a national championship? Maybe one day they'll get that chance. (courtesy realclearsports.com)
I know Santa, you get this one a lot, but I’m never going to stop wishing for this. I’m thrilled with an Oregon/Auburn matchup in the title game, but the BCS continues to get lucky and that can’t last forever. I’ll even admit TCU probably isn’t as good as Oregon or Auburn, but shouldn’t that be decided on the field? The Horned Frogs did absolutely everything that was asked of them, but won’t get a sniff of a championship simply because of discrimination toward smaller schools and non-traditional powers. I don’t care how big or small the playoff is, I just want a level playing field here. And spare me the excuses of extra games, protecting student-athletes, and preserving the bowl system. The bowl system is a middling mess of mediocrity. You mean we might miss out on Florida International vs. Toledo in the Little Caesar’s Bowl? Good, I’d rather watch curling anyway. Trust me Santa, if you want to stop receiving these letters, you’ll find a way to make this happen for me and the countless fans who hate seeing this sport’s champion be crowned by ignorant human voters and soulless computers.
I WANT THE NCAA BASKETBALL TOURNAMENT TO STAY AT 65 TEAMS
College football may get it wrong, but college basketball gets it right. There is no need to expand March Madness to 96 teams as is being discussed by the NCAA. 65 teams means the little guy still has a shot and that’s all the little guy is asking for.
Being a sports fan, I am a passionate person. Most true blue fans might describe themselves the same way. I appreciate passion, enthusiasm, emotion, and just plain good fans. But I’m also annoyed with people. There are lots of them in the realm of sports fandom who are really starting to grind my gears.
Someone needs to tell these chuckleheads that their behavior is not appreciated and will no longer be tolerated. Let’s face it; these are mostly men who have lost touch with reality. So, in my ongoing efforts to make the sports universe a happier place, I’m urging you, pleading with you, and warning you: Don’t be these guys.
THE “WEAR MY JERSEY IN PUBLIC” GUY
We’ve all seen this guy. He’s all too common and he needs to be stopped. I’m not anti-jersey. I own jerseys. If you wear the jersey to a game, I have no issue with you. If you’re a grown man wearing a jersey to Chili’s in front of your family, then you need a mirror and relatives with the guts to tell you how ashamed they are. I’m no fashion guru, but even I know that sporting a faded Favre jersey and tucking it into your high-waisted jeans is sure fire female repellent. And don’t tell me your wife doesn’t care. She does. A t-shirt, a hoodie, a cap, these are all viable options to show support for your team. The jersey is not. Spare yourself the shame and leave the jersey in the closet.
This guy is even worse than “jersey” guy. This is the Raiders’ fan who wears black face paint and a spike collar. It’s the Browns’ fan who wears a dog mask and chomps on a bone while barking from his seat behind the end zone. It’s any liquored-up loser who thought it would be a good idea to spray paint his hair, and don a cape over the cheap, knock-off jersey he bought at Wal-Mart. Clearly some synapses are not firing here. Everyone in this guy’s section is embarrassed for him, and embarrassed that he’s on their side.
This guy is probably thinking, “No one is as big a fan as I am.”
Wrong, imbecile. We’re all huge fans; we’re just fans with dignity.
It’s to the point that I won’t even try new foods. The other night someone offered me some asparagus. I have no idea if I’ve ever had asparagus and I promise you I couldn’t tell you what asparagus tastes like. I said, “No thanks, I don’t like asparagus.”
Not true. To dislike something you have to try it first.
When I go to the grocery store I buy the same products every single time. I even have my routine down. It begins with the soap and contact lens cleaner, moves on to bread, frozen dinner section, cereal aisle, produce, beverages, meat, see you later. There is never a variation.
Okay, sometimes I do it backwards, but that’s only if I’m feeling dangerous.
Food is only one example. Growing up, all I ever wanted was to become a wide receiver for the Dallas Cowboys. I watched my ‘Boys every Sunday and dreamed of someday catching passes on the Texas Stadium turf.
My first chance to play real football came in seventh grade. The gear was sweet. I had never worn actual shoulder pads or buttoned up the chinstrap on my own helmet. I took it all home, put on the uniform and went straight to the mirror.
A comment exchange from a previous post got me thinking about an idea I first read in a book by Gordon MacDonald. I don’t remember the exact book and I really don’t even remember if it is, in fact, a quote by him. Nonetheless, the concept obviously stuck with me even if I don’t remember who actually said it.
A real man is, in many ways, a lot like an oak tree.
The wood of an oak tree is more dense than that of just about any other tree in the forest. This quality makes the oak tree one of the strongest and most hardy of all trees. Because oak wood is also high in tannin, it is extremely resistant to insect and fungus attacks as well. Without getting too deep into the science of tree hardiness, the gist of the matter is that oak trees are the mountain men of the tree world.
In its full glory, an oak tree is one of the most impressive looking trees in existence. It provides shade from the sun, shelter from storms, and it’s acorns are not only a great source of food for squirrels but they grow up to be mighty oak trees themselves.
The roots of an oak tree are extremely deep and extensive. A mature oak tree can draw up to 50 gallons of water per day out of the soil around it.
Because of the strength of its wood, the oak tree is one of the most useful types of timber known to man. Since the middle ages, people have been building impressive structures out of oak: palaces, naval ships, fine furniture, treasure chests… just to name a few.
However, despite the great strength of the oak tree and its hardy resistance to attacks from external pests, when an oak tree does fall, it is often sudden and without warning.
The game of golf is brutal. It is a rage-inducing, mind-melting, often pointless endeavor. The only thing worse than a bad round of golf is hearing about someone else’s good round of golf.
So if you are among the countless ranks of weekend hackers, or if you’re just the jealous type, read no further.
You won’t want to hear about the tale of the Bensch sisters from Broken Arrow, Oklahoma.
Erica Bensch thought she had finally equalled her sister with her hole-in-one. They weren’t tied for long. (courtesy bronchosports.com)
Erica and Lindsey Bensch play golf for the University of Central Oklahoma. On November 9th, during a practice round at Kickingbird Golf Club in Edmond, Erica, a junior, and Lindsey, a freshman, each scored a hole-in-one. Two sisters, two aces.
It happened for Erica on the 3rd hole, a 124-yard par 3. The 20-year old stepped to the tee and hit a routine gap wedge.
“When it was in the air, my coach was hollering, ‘That’s in! That’s in!’, but I wasn’t sure,” recalls Erica.
Michael Bond is the UCO women’s golf coach and he is not to be doubted. The ball landed on the green, took one hop and rolled straight home.
“It was shock,” said Erica. “I wasn’t expecting it. My heart started racing, and a couple of guys lifted me up in the air. There were lots of high fives.”
The excitement had barely died down when little sis grabbed her 8-iron on the 11th tee. Lindsey, who already had a hole-in-one to her credit, remembered exactly what she was thinking as she sent the ball toward her target, 142 yards away.
Editor’s note: Josh’s “Part 1” discussion began last week. If you’d like to start at the beginning, you may go HERE. Thanks.~
I want to make the disclaimer that I do not think I have cornered the market on the Truth with a capital T. I get nervous around people who talk a lot about the Truth, and I certainly don’t want to make you nervous as well. There is a strong possibility that after I die, I could discover that I was completely off from the get go. My guess is that some truth may lie somewhere between in the dialectical tension between where I am theologically and where I came from. Who knows?
Please feel free to test, probe, critique, agree, disagree, heck, even deconstruct my deconstructed ideas. What I’m looking for is simply a constructive dialogue. Conversion to my side of thinking is not the goal. Conversation is. So come join me and lets tell our stories and ask questions and dive into the divine conundrum together.
*********
I was six years old the first time I got saved. While helping my mother iron clothes, I accidentally burned my hand on the glowing red metal. As my mom wrapped a towel of ice cubes around my throbbing hand, she matter-of-fact said, “You know, Josh, this is what hell will feel like.”
Looking down at my blistering fingers, I immediately retorted in breathy panic, “Well, I don’t want to go to hell then!” Moments later, as ice cubes melted across my throbbing fingers, I prayed to ask Jesus into my heart. That night I slept soundly. The thought of heaven was like a medicinal balm that soothed and cooled my burning soul. And what I carried around inside of me for many years afterward was the notion that the Jesus story was about saving people from something bad after death and for something good after death.
While it’s certainly important to be a man of action, a real man also takes the time to ponder the important questions of life.
Why am I here? What am I accomplishing? What’s important? How will I be remembered? How can we make the world a better place? Why is there suffering in the world? How is the world changing and how should we respond? Why is there a very distinct hierarchy (Taco Cabana, followed by Taco Bueno, followed by Taco Bell, followed by Taco Mayo) among fast food Mexican restaurants? What are the important ideas of my time?
With a gullet full of turkey and the anticipation of tomorrow’s Bedlam showdown, this weekend is simply the most wonderful time of the year.
The right way to welcome someone to the best day in Oklahoma sports (courtesy sportsgifts.com)
Houses will be divided, trash will be talked, and twelve months of bragging rights will be on the line.
It’s tough to find an Oklahoman who doesn’t care about this game. But tomorrow, Bedlam will be foremost in the mind of a football crazed nation. The game has the prime time slot on ABC and ESPN’s College Gameday is setting up shop in Stillwater. I might make the journey to the land of orange if for no other reason than to give Erin Andrews my phone number. No doubt, I’m exactly what she’s looking for.
OSU is in unfamiliar territory because there has never been this much at stake for the Pokes. The program has never played for a Big 12 championship. Beat the Sooners, and the Cowboys will do just that. Not to mention OSU can secure the first 11-win season in school history and snap that pesky seven game losing streak to its in-state rival.
Ronnell Lewis and the Sooners crushed the Cowboys 27-0 in 2009 for OU's 7th straight Bedlam victory (courtesy Oklahoma Daily)
Pressure can do funny things to a football team, but the Cowboys have proven themselves in crunch time all year long. The Sooners? Well, not so much. OU still hasn’t figured out how to solve the equation of a road game on prime time TV against a highly ranked opponent. The win over Baylor was nice, but routing an overrated Bears team doesn’t mean the Sooners’ road issues have suddenly disappeared.
While the Sooners may have been victimized by expectations, the Cowboys came into this season without any. They’ve been a looser bunch because of it. When asked on a local sports radio show which of his players were playing over their heads, Mike Gundy named nearly every starter on both sides of the ball. Can Bob Stoops make that statement about any OU players outside of DeMarco Murray and Ryan Broyles? I’m not so sure.
The post below was originally published on my blog on May 7, 2010… the day of my grandpa’s funeral.
"Wedding." Award-winning photo used by permission from Jeff + Jeanie at stu-di-o.com. Click photo to visit their site.
As I get ready for my grandpa’s funeral today, I’m reminded that a real man is not afraid to show his emotions.
As men, when we’re happy or excited about something, most of us will visibly and audibly celebrate. When we’re angry about something, we have no problem letting the world know. And yet, when we’re upset, hurt, or sad about something we often try to “hold it in” for lack of a better description.
While something could certainly be said about the degree of discipline it takes a man to hold in his tears, I would argue that it takes a lot more discipline to let them out.
Most men, if we’re gut-level honest with ourselves, would say that we typically don’t cry for one of two reasons. The first reason being that we don’t want to appear weak. And the second? We just can’t make the tears come out no matter how hard we want to.
