From my earliest remembrance, I read “Sports Illustrated”
magazine from cover to cover. Writers I remember and have since followed well
into my adult life like Paul Zimmerman and Frank Deford heavily influenced my
passion for competitive participating and spectating at sporting events. As an
active young boy who generally could not sit still long enough to read more
than a Bible chapter, a magazine article with photos, or the front and back
covers of a book, I was very lucky to grow up in a city where many pro and
college sports teams played, and my dad took me to far more than my share of
games, but not as many as I wanted to attend. I also spent hours in my yard in
suburban Denver
As I learned that girls liked attention, even from a scrawny,
short boy with big ears and such a cruel cowlick in my hair that mom had
cemented it into place with a concoction called “Wave Set”, I enjoyed the
fringe benefits of that attention: I participated in holding of hands, hugging,
and lots of tonsil hockey! It was in this time period my writing went from
sports fantasy to poetic sexual fantasy with sports as the proverbial chaser.
Poems were easy for me to write. Very little of my poetry was
good, but occasionally I would stumble on a phrase or adapt something I heard
on a movie or TV program and turn it into verse. Rhymes were more important
than substance of thought. I learned early in life how young girls, while
acting far superior to boys their own age, could be easily swayed by a romantic
metaphor or sexual simile from even a tiny nerd with the genuine gregariousness
and growing comic wit.
In sixth grade I learned that writers named Mark Twain and O.
Henry were the cleverest, comical, and real writers on this planet. It was
specifically these two writers that taught me sarcasm and irony, and I still
love them for it. The only negative qualities these authors had was their lack
of concentration on sports as a theme. I sincerely believed the kind of genius
exemplified in Mr. Twain and O. Henry was far beyond my capabilities.
Nevertheless, I made up stories that I told my parents about the schoolyard, I
told my teachers about my family, and general stuff I told to church folk and
neighbors gave me a reputation as a liar and a loon. I received good grades in
school, yet I struggled with character issues. I was just another human on this
big planet. I had no idea what my purpose was, and I struggled to succeed at
anything I was fond of.
Through High School, I was an artistic fool, simultaneously
working feverishly to maintain my status as an athlete. I played several
musical instruments, wrote songs and lyrics (hooray for that rhyming prowess), could
draw and paint pictures, portraits, and loved to act on stage in plays and
musicals. After several key sports injuries due to my still small stature, my role
in sports participation became a supportive one, I began to star in the arts.
It was during this time my parents, while not seeking to abolish my love of
sports and the arts began a campaign of practicality and bare bones economics,
attempting to persuade me that I needed to have a career that brings in steady
income, like my father the engineer.
While I internally disagreed with their lack of approval of
my innate abilities, I searched to find a career they would approve and yet
would not lose my sanity being involved in. My life changed from high school
kid to college adult and the expedience of a worthwhile occupation became more
urgent. I chose a career path they approved of - full time Christian ministry.
Now there is a money-maker! Writing lessons, sermons, and speeches was fun and
quite rewarding internally, not monetarily. I worked 45-60 hours a week for my
first associate ministry and received $25 per week, with a grocery offering for
my wife and I the first of every month.
The writings of Rick Warren, Chuck Swindoll, C. S. Lewis,
and James Dobson became a vital part of my personal canon, in addition to Mark
Twain and O. Henry. In the last twenty years, Erma Bombeck, Steve Allen, Dave
Barry, and Art Buchwald, along with Mitch Albom and Rick Reilly have been added
to my own library. This library also includes the writings of John Wooden, Tony
Dungy, and Tom Landry. I have been moved, challenged, and humored in any
combination by these writers. These influences, along with certain actors and
comedians have influenced my point of view on life.
I still attempt to write, even though I no longer work in
that field of full-time Christian ministry. I must admit reluctantly that I am
a big show off. With this blog address, my fantasy is that the world will read
what I write and be moved somehow, either by a smile or a laugh to brighten
their day, or even to question and disagree with me, to argue or debate, and
spark intellectual stimulation. My style of writing is generally sarcastic,
ironic, and off center. Whether or not I get my point across to the reading
public, I don’t know. I love to delve into the popular topics, especially in
the sports world, and find a twist or a teaching of Jesus that has been
sacrificed on the altar of situation ethics, hedonism, and greed. As that old showoff
and blowhard, I have so much to say regardless of its importance or relevance.
I hope once-in-a-while that my words show wit, wisdom, and a worshipful heart
in a mode that endeavors to educate, enlighten,
and entertain any audience I can.
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