Well folks, it's almost 2010. Almost a new year, a new decade. Let's review. First, a brief glimpse at the past decade. Then the year of 2009.
10 years ago, 1999:
- I was 14. 8th grade. I had a crush on a redheaded 7th grader--yikes!
- I was a part of the first ever undefeated football season at PPMS. I take zero credit for that.
- I was a guard on the basketball team. Shot from the hip and began my affinity for shooting the 3.
- Favorite teacher: Mrs. Matthews. She was mean, yet oddly kind.
- Least favorite: Mr. Baker. He was odd. Nine years later, he added me on Facebook. Declined.
In the last 10 years...
My best year: 2007. June, more specifically.
My worst year: 2003/2009.
Biggest accomplishment: Playing college basketball.
Biggest loss: My best friend moving halfway across the country, and essentially out of my life.
Back to the present, 2009:
Biggest accomplishments: Running 351 miles in the month of July, and re-establishing a relationship with my sister.
Biggest loss: I got dumped the day before Valentine's Day. She then got engaged less than 3 months after saying she still loved me. Neat, huh? Then again, in perspective--maybe not such a big loss after all.
Looking ahead, 2010:
Resolutions:
- Find a job (by end of January, no exceptions).
- Find a girlfriend (by March 6 would be nice, but probably not realistic. Let's say June 1).
- Pray. Every single day.
- Run a few races, maybe a half marathon.
- End bad habits. Live right. Do right. Motto--WWAD: What would Amanda do? This is not a new motto, but I will be leaning on it more from now on. Lord knows I need to.
Further ahead, next 10 years...
Goals:
- Get married/have kids.
- Coach at least one championship team.
- Own a house.
- Own a pickup truck.
- See a game at Wrigley.
- Have my picture taken next to the Jordan statue.
- Learn to play guitar.
- Learn to play piano.
Lastly, I'll leave you with a 23-second video that comes to mind for me every single New Year's. Terrific movie, funny clip. Enjoy.
Make your own luck,
Derrick
Monday, December 28, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Feet on the ground, head in the sky.
Lately, it's becoming clearer to me that my dreams of big things actually seem quite minuscule to most people I know.
This used to bother me. But not so much anymore.
Literally speaking, I don't dream of big things at all. I don't need to scale Everest, hit the lotto or win an Oscar. My dreams are simple, yet elaborate. Let's see if I can break it down a bit...
I dream of tricking a foxy lady into marrying me. I reckon she'll need to be a poor-sighted gal. I dream of three kids or two. I dream of "Daddy, I love you."
A boy and a girl, maybe two of one--or the other.
Teach them both, or maybe them all
that the pick-and-roll
is the heart and soul,
and maybe buy her a Barbie doll.
Just made that up on the spot. Poetic or just nerdy? I'm fine with either.
I dream of movie nights at home with the wife and kids. Eating dinner around the kitchen table. How was your day? and all that.
I dream of coaching a championship team--or five. *cough* Twenty.
I dream of being at Wrigley Field. Green grass, red marquee, blue pinstripes. Breeze in the air and a hot dog just for the sake of having one. Oh, and that wonderful tune when it's over.
I dream of catching a fish as big as I am.
I dream of never having to worry about money. *slaps forehead*
I dream of being able to sleep before 3 AM. Of having a reason to get up earlier than nine. I like mornings more than you'd guess.
I dream of being allowed to invite my best friend to my wedding. Or maybe even attend hers? OK, maybe just the first one.
I am a simple man with simple dreams. My dreams include helping others fulfill their dreams--no matter the capacity. Josh Turner can explain it better than I, so I'll just let him take it from here--provided you have 3:36 to kill.
Also in part because I finally figured out how to put a video in here, rather than just a link. It's stupid how easy it was.
I believe that dreaming small things in a big way is perhaps even more ambitious than dreaming "big" things. But then again, it's my dream.
What are your dreams?
Keep dreaming,
Derrick
This used to bother me. But not so much anymore.
Literally speaking, I don't dream of big things at all. I don't need to scale Everest, hit the lotto or win an Oscar. My dreams are simple, yet elaborate. Let's see if I can break it down a bit...
I dream of tricking a foxy lady into marrying me. I reckon she'll need to be a poor-sighted gal. I dream of three kids or two. I dream of "Daddy, I love you."
A boy and a girl, maybe two of one--or the other.
Teach them both, or maybe them all
that the pick-and-roll
is the heart and soul,
and maybe buy her a Barbie doll.
Just made that up on the spot. Poetic or just nerdy? I'm fine with either.
I dream of movie nights at home with the wife and kids. Eating dinner around the kitchen table. How was your day? and all that.
I dream of coaching a championship team--or five. *cough* Twenty.
I dream of being at Wrigley Field. Green grass, red marquee, blue pinstripes. Breeze in the air and a hot dog just for the sake of having one. Oh, and that wonderful tune when it's over.
I dream of catching a fish as big as I am.
I dream of never having to worry about money. *slaps forehead*
I dream of being able to sleep before 3 AM. Of having a reason to get up earlier than nine. I like mornings more than you'd guess.
I dream of being allowed to invite my best friend to my wedding. Or maybe even attend hers? OK, maybe just the first one.
I am a simple man with simple dreams. My dreams include helping others fulfill their dreams--no matter the capacity. Josh Turner can explain it better than I, so I'll just let him take it from here--provided you have 3:36 to kill.
Also in part because I finally figured out how to put a video in here, rather than just a link. It's stupid how easy it was.
I believe that dreaming small things in a big way is perhaps even more ambitious than dreaming "big" things. But then again, it's my dream.
What are your dreams?
Keep dreaming,
Derrick
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
What a weak week. Word. Wait, what? Whoa, weird.
Due to the desire to write, yet lacking much of an idea--let's try a good ole recap of the week, hopefully in a comedic way, of sorts. Tried a few of those awhile back to relatively positive reviews.
Thurs; Dec 10...
7:00-8:45 PM--Play a little roundball with the fellas at home in Pretty Prairie. Only managed enough for 2-on-2, but it was fun, as small town basketball usually is. Then this one crazy cat apparently tripped over something (no one saw it) and watched his ankle swell to the size of a beach ball within minutes. He claims he blocked a shot on the play. Ironically, no one saw that either.
Fri; Dec 11...
I do not remember this day. It must not have happened.
Sat; Dec 12...
9 PM-4 AM (Sun)--Hang out in Hutchinson. Watch I Love You, Man for the first time. I pretty much am Paul Rudd. Except for the whole fiancee thing.
Sun; Dec 13...
4:57 AM--Finally arrive home. It should be a 30 minute drive, max. Worst fog I've ever seen in my life extended the drive a bit. Not pleasant.
6:00 PM--Game time.
6:53 PM--Another close loss, 0-4. 62-68, bad guys. For the first time, I wasn't horrendous. Barely. By my count: 16 points, 13 rebounds. Estimate of what I probably should have had: 28 points, 18 rebounds. Had a nice blocked shot on a former teammate I admire a lot (got called for a nonsense foul, but it was a make-up call for something I got away with previously).
Missed a few chippies--pause to check if "chippies" is a real word or just basketball slang. Chippies: Plural of chippy--a promiscuous young woman. Yikes. Definitely not what I meant. Rephrasing...I missed a few easy baskets.
Oh, promiscuous. Easy! Yeah, I get it now...
7:51-9:18 PM--Get back to gym in Pretty Prairie and join the hometown blokes for some 4-on-4.
7:59 PM--Receive a message that totally spikes my curiosity. Like a volleyball. You know, except not boring. Guffaw.
Mon; Dec 14...
11:45 AM-2:15 PM--Get some good games in on the courts at Wichita State. My team won in its first 7 games. Then a loss, then two wins, a loss, and a win. 10-2? In pickup ball? Pshaw, I'll take it.
7(ish) PM--Watch a pretty intense double-overtime Middle School game. Pretty Prairie wins on a tip-in at the buzzer. That kid will remember that moment forever. I know I have a few moments like that. One that was eerily similar, in fact.
Tue; Dec 15...
8 PM-12:30 AM (Wed)--Hang out in Hutchinson again. Pizza rolls and bread sticks from "The Hut" and a drink from Sonic? Eh, fuggedaboutit! <-- imagine an Italian accent.
Wed; Dec 16...
3 PM-6 PM--Jaunt to Wichita. Pick up a few Christmas gift on very limited budget. Result: I'm an awesome big brother, a decent son and pretty solid brother-in-law. As for being a little brother? Jury still out.
6:30--Taco Bell. Cheesy Gordita Cruch. And some soft shells on the side. No lettuce. Dr. Pepper. Yum.
This is a very anti-climactic ending, but that's pretty much all I've got this time.
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Thurs; Dec 10...
7:00-8:45 PM--Play a little roundball with the fellas at home in Pretty Prairie. Only managed enough for 2-on-2, but it was fun, as small town basketball usually is. Then this one crazy cat apparently tripped over something (no one saw it) and watched his ankle swell to the size of a beach ball within minutes. He claims he blocked a shot on the play. Ironically, no one saw that either.
Fri; Dec 11...
I do not remember this day. It must not have happened.
Sat; Dec 12...
9 PM-4 AM (Sun)--Hang out in Hutchinson. Watch I Love You, Man for the first time. I pretty much am Paul Rudd. Except for the whole fiancee thing.
Sun; Dec 13...
4:57 AM--Finally arrive home. It should be a 30 minute drive, max. Worst fog I've ever seen in my life extended the drive a bit. Not pleasant.
6:00 PM--Game time.
6:53 PM--Another close loss, 0-4. 62-68, bad guys. For the first time, I wasn't horrendous. Barely. By my count: 16 points, 13 rebounds. Estimate of what I probably should have had: 28 points, 18 rebounds. Had a nice blocked shot on a former teammate I admire a lot (got called for a nonsense foul, but it was a make-up call for something I got away with previously).
Missed a few chippies--pause to check if "chippies" is a real word or just basketball slang. Chippies: Plural of chippy--a promiscuous young woman. Yikes. Definitely not what I meant. Rephrasing...I missed a few easy baskets.
Oh, promiscuous. Easy! Yeah, I get it now...
7:51-9:18 PM--Get back to gym in Pretty Prairie and join the hometown blokes for some 4-on-4.
7:59 PM--Receive a message that totally spikes my curiosity. Like a volleyball. You know, except not boring. Guffaw.
Mon; Dec 14...
11:45 AM-2:15 PM--Get some good games in on the courts at Wichita State. My team won in its first 7 games. Then a loss, then two wins, a loss, and a win. 10-2? In pickup ball? Pshaw, I'll take it.
7(ish) PM--Watch a pretty intense double-overtime Middle School game. Pretty Prairie wins on a tip-in at the buzzer. That kid will remember that moment forever. I know I have a few moments like that. One that was eerily similar, in fact.
Tue; Dec 15...
8 PM-12:30 AM (Wed)--Hang out in Hutchinson again. Pizza rolls and bread sticks from "The Hut" and a drink from Sonic? Eh, fuggedaboutit! <-- imagine an Italian accent.
Wed; Dec 16...
3 PM-6 PM--Jaunt to Wichita. Pick up a few Christmas gift on very limited budget. Result: I'm an awesome big brother, a decent son and pretty solid brother-in-law. As for being a little brother? Jury still out.
6:30--Taco Bell. Cheesy Gordita Cruch. And some soft shells on the side. No lettuce. Dr. Pepper. Yum.
This is a very anti-climactic ending, but that's pretty much all I've got this time.
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Give me your presence, keep your presents.
To the few people who've mentioned that they actually missed my blogs--I take that with the grain of salt. But I'm back--please forgive the 2 week layoff.
This one will be about gifts. It is the season for giving, is it not?
Thinking back to all the Christmas gifts I've been given over the years...
Best gift ever: NBA Live '99 --computer game
From: My grandma, Madeline Crosley. Her last Christmas before passing in February the following year. It was the first basketball video game I actually owned personally. Loved that game--I'll never forget it because of who it came from.
Worst gift ever: Tube socks
From: I have no earthly idea. Some distant relative, I imagine--I was a little kid. What little kid ever wants tube socks? Why do people do this? Ironically, as I near 25, I could actually use a new pair of socks or 2--just not ones like that.
2009 Wish List:
1. Anything Cubs--Ahem, tickets? Just kidding (no I'm not).
...there is a black Cubs shirt at Champs Sports that I would love. They used to have a neat white one, too, at one point. I own 4 blues and 1 grey, but no other colors.
...there are at least 6 new Cubs hats at Lids in Towne East in Wichita that I don't have. Not to mention tons of neatly-colored hats, shirts and other Cubs nonsense online. Just saying.
2. Nintendo Wii. Very unrealistic (money constraints for pretty much everyone I know) and not the best usage of my time, but I'd love one, nonetheless.
3. A foxy new girlfriend. Or at least a New Year's date? Suggestions? Bah.
*Derrick pauses for 2:22 and breaks into a Joe Nichols song* --
"What's a guy gotta do to get a girl in this town?...don't wanna be alone when the sun goes down...just a sweet little somethin' to put my arms around...what's a guy gotta do to get a girl in this town? ...well, ask anybody, I'm a pretty good guy..."
Yikes. Sorry you had to witness that--I'm back now...where was I? Oh yes...
On to a couple random Christmas memories:
1995: Move into new house (out of trailer). With TV on the floor and most belongings still in boxes, we watch the beloved Kansas Jayhawks defeat UCLA 51-30 in Aloha Bowl...Then, with no food worth eating and exhausted from moving--we eat "Christmas dinner" at a gas station in Kingman, KS. Just my mom and us three boys. An oddly cohesive occasion.
2002: House fire, 2 AM--Christmas Eve. Forced to move into a duplex in town for the last 5 months of my Senior year of High School. Weird stuff, watching your house almost burn down mere hours before Christmas.
SO...here's what I want: If you are reading this, take a second to tell me at least one--or more of the following:
1. What's on your Christmas wish list this year?
2. Best gift you've ever gotten?
3. Worst gift you've ever gotten?
4. Good Christmas memory?
5. Bad Christmas memory?
6. Favorite thing about the holiday season?
7. Least favorite thing about the holidays?
You mustn't answer them all...Just share some Christmas-y thoughts. Ready, go.
I'll try and make sure to write again before then, but I'm in holiday mode already.
Early or not...Merry Christmas, y'all.
Do the right thing,
Derrick
This one will be about gifts. It is the season for giving, is it not?
Thinking back to all the Christmas gifts I've been given over the years...
Best gift ever: NBA Live '99 --computer game
From: My grandma, Madeline Crosley. Her last Christmas before passing in February the following year. It was the first basketball video game I actually owned personally. Loved that game--I'll never forget it because of who it came from.
Worst gift ever: Tube socks
From: I have no earthly idea. Some distant relative, I imagine--I was a little kid. What little kid ever wants tube socks? Why do people do this? Ironically, as I near 25, I could actually use a new pair of socks or 2--just not ones like that.
2009 Wish List:
1. Anything Cubs--Ahem, tickets? Just kidding (no I'm not).
...there is a black Cubs shirt at Champs Sports that I would love. They used to have a neat white one, too, at one point. I own 4 blues and 1 grey, but no other colors.
...there are at least 6 new Cubs hats at Lids in Towne East in Wichita that I don't have. Not to mention tons of neatly-colored hats, shirts and other Cubs nonsense online. Just saying.
2. Nintendo Wii. Very unrealistic (money constraints for pretty much everyone I know) and not the best usage of my time, but I'd love one, nonetheless.
3. A foxy new girlfriend. Or at least a New Year's date? Suggestions? Bah.
*Derrick pauses for 2:22 and breaks into a Joe Nichols song* --
"What's a guy gotta do to get a girl in this town?...don't wanna be alone when the sun goes down...just a sweet little somethin' to put my arms around...what's a guy gotta do to get a girl in this town? ...well, ask anybody, I'm a pretty good guy..."
Yikes. Sorry you had to witness that--I'm back now...where was I? Oh yes...
On to a couple random Christmas memories:
1995: Move into new house (out of trailer). With TV on the floor and most belongings still in boxes, we watch the beloved Kansas Jayhawks defeat UCLA 51-30 in Aloha Bowl...Then, with no food worth eating and exhausted from moving--we eat "Christmas dinner" at a gas station in Kingman, KS. Just my mom and us three boys. An oddly cohesive occasion.
2002: House fire, 2 AM--Christmas Eve. Forced to move into a duplex in town for the last 5 months of my Senior year of High School. Weird stuff, watching your house almost burn down mere hours before Christmas.
SO...here's what I want: If you are reading this, take a second to tell me at least one--or more of the following:
1. What's on your Christmas wish list this year?
2. Best gift you've ever gotten?
3. Worst gift you've ever gotten?
4. Good Christmas memory?
5. Bad Christmas memory?
6. Favorite thing about the holiday season?
7. Least favorite thing about the holidays?
You mustn't answer them all...Just share some Christmas-y thoughts. Ready, go.
I'll try and make sure to write again before then, but I'm in holiday mode already.
Early or not...Merry Christmas, y'all.
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Monday, November 23, 2009
Too late to apologize?
My recent bugaboo is excessive apologizing. Seems as though I've harped on anyone who has used the word "sorry" to me, of late. It can get old. My motto: Don't apologize for that which you cannot control. Although I'm guilty of it, too, for sure.
But then this afternoon, as I prepared for my game tonight (another L), the One Republic song Apologize came across my iPod. All right, so it was the Lil Wayne remix version, but still--it got me thinking...
Can it really sometimes be "too late to apologize?"
Or does the old adage "better late than never" apply here, too?
In the spirit of covering my bases, let's find out. Going to try and think of anyone who deserves an apology from me.
I'm also going to attempt to be discreet, in an attempt to be "publicly private," if you will. Here goes...
TK: Not going to lie, you're the driving force behind this entire blog--aside from the kick-start from One Republic, of course. I'm sorry for what I said in a blog 13 days ago. Though sincere, it was a horrible approach, and not the time or the place for it. I know you saw it, and not sure you'll see this--or that you even care anymore. But I shouldn't have done it, and I'm quite sorry. It's been a horrendous year-plus, and I just get frustrated very easily these days (no excuse). If you see this, your forgiveness would be greatly appreciated.
Cat who showed up a couple months ago, and never left: I'm sorry I broke your foot. I'm not sorry that I slide you out of the way when you're in the doorway. And I'm not sorry about always telling you I hate your species. Cats are stupid. See, no remorse. I didn't break your foot on purpose. You shouldn't have been standing right behind me while I was playing catch. So it's really your own fault. But still...I didn't see you there when I stepped back, and I feel a little bad--so I'm sorry about that.
DS: You will never read this, and probably couldn't care less, but I was a bad friend to you. I quit talking to you (and several other female friends) when I was with my now ex-girlfriend 2+ years ago. She was an insanely jealous psychopath, and it was the only way to keep her happy--at least temporarily. We were once very close friends, you and I. You've since deleted me from your life, and it's all my own doing. I maybe should have handled that better, and I didn't. I'm sorry.
AW: I'm just sorry--in general. I really don't even need to elaborate. It's worked out for you, and that's so awesome. Me? Eh.
JB: We had us a pretty dramatic debacle last year, eh? I was caught in the middle of a situation having nothing to do with me, and didn't know what to do--or say, and to whom. Seems to have worked out, since all seems copacetic nowadays, but still...it was a tough spot, and another situation I maybe should have handled better. I'm sorry.
Self: Dear me, I'm sorry I keep you up at night making you think about silly nonsense. I keep telling you that I'll work on it, and I really am trying. It's just hard. So shut up. Still...sorry. I'm also sorry I haven't been living up to the standard of ethics I've set for you/me. I'll continue working on that, too. Thanks for understanding, self. Yeah, no problem--that's what I'm here for.
God: I'm sorry for not talking to you more often. Sadly, it's often when I need you most that I forget to talk to you. Silly, huh? I'll continue to try and do better.
All: I'm sorry I haven't been able to provide you with anything more interesting to read--especially lately. I honestly have no idea who all even reads this nonsense. Sometimes, I'm led to believe that I have upwards of 100+ readers on a few things I've written. But most the time, I wonder if it's more than 5. Regardless, apology to the masses. I expect more of myself, and you should, too.
Finally: To anyone who's ever said "sorry" in a situation that didn't really call for it (myself included)...
Here's a 9-second video. Enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-VP8wnFwo8
Do the right thing,
Derrick
But then this afternoon, as I prepared for my game tonight (another L), the One Republic song Apologize came across my iPod. All right, so it was the Lil Wayne remix version, but still--it got me thinking...
Can it really sometimes be "too late to apologize?"
Or does the old adage "better late than never" apply here, too?
In the spirit of covering my bases, let's find out. Going to try and think of anyone who deserves an apology from me.
I'm also going to attempt to be discreet, in an attempt to be "publicly private," if you will. Here goes...
TK: Not going to lie, you're the driving force behind this entire blog--aside from the kick-start from One Republic, of course. I'm sorry for what I said in a blog 13 days ago. Though sincere, it was a horrible approach, and not the time or the place for it. I know you saw it, and not sure you'll see this--or that you even care anymore. But I shouldn't have done it, and I'm quite sorry. It's been a horrendous year-plus, and I just get frustrated very easily these days (no excuse). If you see this, your forgiveness would be greatly appreciated.
Cat who showed up a couple months ago, and never left: I'm sorry I broke your foot. I'm not sorry that I slide you out of the way when you're in the doorway. And I'm not sorry about always telling you I hate your species. Cats are stupid. See, no remorse. I didn't break your foot on purpose. You shouldn't have been standing right behind me while I was playing catch. So it's really your own fault. But still...I didn't see you there when I stepped back, and I feel a little bad--so I'm sorry about that.
DS: You will never read this, and probably couldn't care less, but I was a bad friend to you. I quit talking to you (and several other female friends) when I was with my now ex-girlfriend 2+ years ago. She was an insanely jealous psychopath, and it was the only way to keep her happy--at least temporarily. We were once very close friends, you and I. You've since deleted me from your life, and it's all my own doing. I maybe should have handled that better, and I didn't. I'm sorry.
AW: I'm just sorry--in general. I really don't even need to elaborate. It's worked out for you, and that's so awesome. Me? Eh.
JB: We had us a pretty dramatic debacle last year, eh? I was caught in the middle of a situation having nothing to do with me, and didn't know what to do--or say, and to whom. Seems to have worked out, since all seems copacetic nowadays, but still...it was a tough spot, and another situation I maybe should have handled better. I'm sorry.
Self: Dear me, I'm sorry I keep you up at night making you think about silly nonsense. I keep telling you that I'll work on it, and I really am trying. It's just hard. So shut up. Still...sorry. I'm also sorry I haven't been living up to the standard of ethics I've set for you/me. I'll continue working on that, too. Thanks for understanding, self. Yeah, no problem--that's what I'm here for.
God: I'm sorry for not talking to you more often. Sadly, it's often when I need you most that I forget to talk to you. Silly, huh? I'll continue to try and do better.
All: I'm sorry I haven't been able to provide you with anything more interesting to read--especially lately. I honestly have no idea who all even reads this nonsense. Sometimes, I'm led to believe that I have upwards of 100+ readers on a few things I've written. But most the time, I wonder if it's more than 5. Regardless, apology to the masses. I expect more of myself, and you should, too.
Finally: To anyone who's ever said "sorry" in a situation that didn't really call for it (myself included)...
Here's a 9-second video. Enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-VP8wnFwo8
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Saturday, November 14, 2009
2009 Pretty Prairie Bulldogs football
The 2009 Pretty Prairie High School football season came to a disappointing end Friday night, as the Bulldogs fell to the Falcons from Baileyville B & B.
Baileyville was a deserving, well-rounded team that plays good solid football, and is well-coached.
But this isn't about them.
This is about the Pretty Prairie team that took a previously-unbeaten record four-plus hours north to see what it was made of.
On the field, the Bulldogs lost the game--their season was over. Then the helmets came off.
Let's rewind.
Pretty Prairie opened its season by surrendering 22 unanswered points to South Barber. The rest of September? Pretty Prairie 172, Opponents 28. They never looked back.
On October 9, the Bulldogs provided their home fans with the game of the season in a clash with the visiting Claflin Wildcats--pitting two teams who'd gone down to the wire the previous season, with Pretty Prairie coming up on the wrong end.
The rematch did not disappoint, culminating in thrilling fashion, as the Bulldogs closed out Claflin, 46-44. In the waning seconds, ailing quarterback Hunter Pittman threaded a nifty pass in traffic to freshman Alex Mains just inside the left pylon. Mains made the catch of a lifetime in the endzone to give Pretty Prairie the lead. Claflin moved down the field with a couple quick--albeit long plays, but was brought down just short of the goal line by the Bulldog defense as time expired.
Hysteria in a community of barely 600.
Pretty Prairie coasted through its next two games before grinding out a win versus Goessel and smashing Udall in its Bi-District game. They then rolled past an unsuspecting Frankfort squad (40-8) to set up a Sub-State battle with the defending State Champion Baileyville Falcons.
Pretty Prairie won 11 games for various reasons.
Leadership: Ben Ketchem, Cole Kirkbride. If you watched even a single game, nothing else need be said. True, Pretty Prairie "only" loses two seniors, and could be even more formidable next season. However, those are two tough seniors to lose.
Touchdowns (and lots of them): Junior Daniel Krehbiel has to be considered one of the top running backs in Kansas for his play in 2009.
Play-making: Hunter Pittman and fellow junior Tanner Hines were integral play-makers on offense for the Bulldogs as well, while the defense was a harder-hitting group than anyone seemed ready for. Junior Seth Hastings was a nightmare for opposing quarterbacks all season long. Junior Josh Kaufman laid a smashing hit on a Frankfort player that looked like it should have landed him in a coma. Brilliant football play. Freshman Stetson Broce seemed to always have a nose for the ball as he racked up tackles and interceptions throughout the season.
Teamwork: Perhaps the most cliche rally cry in sports, but you'd probably be hard pressed to find a closer-knit group of young men than the 2009 Bulldog football team.
Coaching: Over the course of eight-plus years, I've concluded that C.T. Young could catch a fish, teach it to grow legs, run a slant route, and catch a pass over the middle. OK, perhaps a bit far-fetched. But my guess? Probably not by much. He knows the game of football, and loves it. And it shows in the attitudes of his players.
Back to Baileyville, KS--Friday, November 13.
I know the guys on the team will most likely see the Sub-State loss as a failure, a disappointment, unfinished business, all that stuff. I've played sports all my life--I know how it works.
But...
As the young, dispirited Bulldogs walked off the field in sorrow, helmets in their hands and tears in their eyes--senior captains Ben Ketchem and Cole Kirkbride stood firm at midfield applauding the victors from Baileyville--the type of defining moment that turns boys into men in an instant.
Goosebumps.
In that very moment, as if never before--I was proud to know those two young men. Ben and Cole, I'm proud to call you my friends.
Kudos to you both for always playing--and acting the right way. Trust me, people notice.
To the rest of the Bulldogs,
Congrats on a great season. You will be back.
Derrick Mead
PS--Tried to tinker with a pic. Looked good when I finished, but came out blurry for some reason. Enjoy.
Baileyville was a deserving, well-rounded team that plays good solid football, and is well-coached.
But this isn't about them.
This is about the Pretty Prairie team that took a previously-unbeaten record four-plus hours north to see what it was made of.
On the field, the Bulldogs lost the game--their season was over. Then the helmets came off.
Let's rewind.
Pretty Prairie opened its season by surrendering 22 unanswered points to South Barber. The rest of September? Pretty Prairie 172, Opponents 28. They never looked back.
On October 9, the Bulldogs provided their home fans with the game of the season in a clash with the visiting Claflin Wildcats--pitting two teams who'd gone down to the wire the previous season, with Pretty Prairie coming up on the wrong end.
The rematch did not disappoint, culminating in thrilling fashion, as the Bulldogs closed out Claflin, 46-44. In the waning seconds, ailing quarterback Hunter Pittman threaded a nifty pass in traffic to freshman Alex Mains just inside the left pylon. Mains made the catch of a lifetime in the endzone to give Pretty Prairie the lead. Claflin moved down the field with a couple quick--albeit long plays, but was brought down just short of the goal line by the Bulldog defense as time expired.
Hysteria in a community of barely 600.
Pretty Prairie coasted through its next two games before grinding out a win versus Goessel and smashing Udall in its Bi-District game. They then rolled past an unsuspecting Frankfort squad (40-8) to set up a Sub-State battle with the defending State Champion Baileyville Falcons.
Pretty Prairie won 11 games for various reasons.
Leadership: Ben Ketchem, Cole Kirkbride. If you watched even a single game, nothing else need be said. True, Pretty Prairie "only" loses two seniors, and could be even more formidable next season. However, those are two tough seniors to lose.
Touchdowns (and lots of them): Junior Daniel Krehbiel has to be considered one of the top running backs in Kansas for his play in 2009.
Play-making: Hunter Pittman and fellow junior Tanner Hines were integral play-makers on offense for the Bulldogs as well, while the defense was a harder-hitting group than anyone seemed ready for. Junior Seth Hastings was a nightmare for opposing quarterbacks all season long. Junior Josh Kaufman laid a smashing hit on a Frankfort player that looked like it should have landed him in a coma. Brilliant football play. Freshman Stetson Broce seemed to always have a nose for the ball as he racked up tackles and interceptions throughout the season.
Teamwork: Perhaps the most cliche rally cry in sports, but you'd probably be hard pressed to find a closer-knit group of young men than the 2009 Bulldog football team.
Coaching: Over the course of eight-plus years, I've concluded that C.T. Young could catch a fish, teach it to grow legs, run a slant route, and catch a pass over the middle. OK, perhaps a bit far-fetched. But my guess? Probably not by much. He knows the game of football, and loves it. And it shows in the attitudes of his players.
Back to Baileyville, KS--Friday, November 13.
I know the guys on the team will most likely see the Sub-State loss as a failure, a disappointment, unfinished business, all that stuff. I've played sports all my life--I know how it works.
But...
As the young, dispirited Bulldogs walked off the field in sorrow, helmets in their hands and tears in their eyes--senior captains Ben Ketchem and Cole Kirkbride stood firm at midfield applauding the victors from Baileyville--the type of defining moment that turns boys into men in an instant.
Goosebumps.
In that very moment, as if never before--I was proud to know those two young men. Ben and Cole, I'm proud to call you my friends.
Kudos to you both for always playing--and acting the right way. Trust me, people notice.
To the rest of the Bulldogs,
Congrats on a great season. You will be back.
Derrick Mead
PS--Tried to tinker with a pic. Looked good when I finished, but came out blurry for some reason. Enjoy.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Thankful for laughter...now where did I put it?
Every day seems to bring a new reason for sorrow. Just today, I discovered some news that would devastate at least 601 people (at the 2000 census) simultaneously if they all found out (only a few know). Perhaps best they don't. Epic panic would probably ensue.
BUT...
This is not about that.
It's time to focus on happy things. The little things.
You know what, let's take it a step farther. It's November. I'm not a big Thanksgiving guy, but why not dive in? Let's talk about things I'm thankful for (SO not the direction I planned to take this blog less than a minute ago)...why not? Everyone else seems to be.
I'm thankful for...
My dog, Pete. He may be fat and ugly (traits we probably share), but no matter how many girls get on my nerves, Pete's always around. I'm reminded of Carrie Underwood's song The More Boys I Meet...well, to paraphrase:
"The more [girls] I meet, the more I love my dog."
I figure if Pete can smile, I might as well. Seriously, look--he's smiling in the picture. How awesome is that?
I'm also thankful for...
Technology:
- My BlackBerry (the phone, not the fruit)
- Having texts waiting for me when I wake up
- Text messaging in general
- My Macbook. Macs are much better than PCs. If you disagree, we might not be friends.
- My iPod--it's purple, and I like it
People:
- My family...most the time.
- New friendships
- Old friendships that last
- Friends who are better friends than they realize
- Really beautiful women
Sports:
- The opportunity to play something I love (basketball)
- Chicago Cubs, Bulls, Bears
Possessions:
- Flip-flops
- Cubs hats...all of them
- Books, movies
I could probably go on. But I'm (finally) getting tired, and I think you get the picture. This is not exactly a productive blog, but oh well. Lastly, a little joke to go out on...
Two old men were fishing off a bridge as they had done daily for many years. Suddenly a funeral procession came down the road.
The one old man reeled in his line, lain down his pole, faced the street and bowed his head until the procession had passed. He then picked up his pole and started fishing again.
The other fisherman was amazed and stated "I didn't know you were that religious."
The other looked at him and said "Least I could do, we've been married 42 years."
Do the right thing,
Derrick
BUT...
This is not about that.
It's time to focus on happy things. The little things.
You know what, let's take it a step farther. It's November. I'm not a big Thanksgiving guy, but why not dive in? Let's talk about things I'm thankful for (SO not the direction I planned to take this blog less than a minute ago)...why not? Everyone else seems to be.
I'm thankful for...
My dog, Pete. He may be fat and ugly (traits we probably share), but no matter how many girls get on my nerves, Pete's always around. I'm reminded of Carrie Underwood's song The More Boys I Meet...well, to paraphrase:
"The more [girls] I meet, the more I love my dog."
I figure if Pete can smile, I might as well. Seriously, look--he's smiling in the picture. How awesome is that?
I'm also thankful for...
Technology:
- My BlackBerry (the phone, not the fruit)
- Having texts waiting for me when I wake up
- Text messaging in general
- My Macbook. Macs are much better than PCs. If you disagree, we might not be friends.
- My iPod--it's purple, and I like it
People:
- My family...most the time.
- New friendships
- Old friendships that last
- Friends who are better friends than they realize
- Really beautiful women
Sports:
- The opportunity to play something I love (basketball)
- Chicago Cubs, Bulls, Bears
Possessions:
- Flip-flops
- Cubs hats...all of them
- Books, movies
I could probably go on. But I'm (finally) getting tired, and I think you get the picture. This is not exactly a productive blog, but oh well. Lastly, a little joke to go out on...
Two old men were fishing off a bridge as they had done daily for many years. Suddenly a funeral procession came down the road.
The one old man reeled in his line, lain down his pole, faced the street and bowed his head until the procession had passed. He then picked up his pole and started fishing again.
The other fisherman was amazed and stated "I didn't know you were that religious."
The other looked at him and said "Least I could do, we've been married 42 years."
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
"...then we get the khakis. Then we get the chicks."
This will not be a happy blog. I'll try to sneak in a laugh or two, but no promises.
Let me start by saying this...
I am a happy person. I love Jesus, all the people close to me, and the Chicago Cubs. In that order. Unless the game's on TV--then flip-flop numbers two and three.
I almost always have a chipper anecdote to supply to anyone who'll listen. Most of you know what I'm good at: making people laugh, spelling stuff real good-like, and hitting the occasional jumper.
But ... I have a talent many people are unaware of--hiding it when something's wrong. I usually put on a good front, feign a smile and brush things off with ease. Well, I'm not very fond of that talent at the moment, so I'm here to vent, in a way. Bear with me. Here goes nothing...
It's been a hard [expletive] year--to say the least...
Work--or lack thereof.
362 days ago, I quit my job. Regardless of what has transpired since, I don't regret it.
My reasons:
A. I don't regret things. Ever--solves nothing.
B. It was a sales gig that I hated (and sucked at); I would've been let go soon, anyway.
From November-June, I subsequently applied at 57 different establishments--yes, I kept track. Three interviews. One second interview. No real inklings. The phrase "over-qualified" is something I will never understand.
More of the same since I was forced to move back home.
I've since been called a "bum" by someone who doesn't even know the first thing about me. Not to sound cliche, but if you're one of those kinds of people--keep my name out of your mouth, period.
"Loser" has been bandied about.
Today, I was called "lazy" by someone who's a good friend, yet seems to have developed a propensity for hurting my feelings.
Don't do that. Call it "Truth-Hurts-Syndrome," if you want. But I mean, c'mon. Regardless of your opinion, who talks to people that way? The moral? There's almost always more to a situation than what you know--so watch the way you speak to people.
I do have an idea for (hopefully) next year--teaching/coaching out-of-state--but I need to save up some money in the meantime before that even becomes a legit plan. So far, no go.
Girls--or lack thereof.
136 days ago, she said she still loved me.
Less than 94 days later, she was engaged to someone else. Awesome.
I recently moved on from an ex-girlfriend who...let's face it...didn't treat me very well. There, I said it. No qualms about it anymore--things happen. While I can honestly say I don't miss her (hooray, me), the situation itself took a toll on me. You know, leaving doubts and such. Not the "all girls are the same" kind of doubts. Those kinds of baseless stereotypes irritate me, and I'm not ignorant enough to buy in. Just the impatient, "when's it my turn?" kind of doubts--you know.
Plus, I'm picky. Very picky. To any who don't know me, it might seem pompous. Shoot, maybe it is. It seems to take a lot for me to find a girl I really like. When I finally do, there's always a pretty substantial roadblock. Specifically, she's either got a boyfriend (who's generally an idiot), or is simply ridiculously unattainable. And yes, I have specific--and very recent examples for each.
Regardless of the circumstances, it just never seems to matter. Especially over the last year. It's been a strain, without a doubt.
I'm almost 25 years old. I have no job, no money, no girlfriend--no life. And no excuse. When it rains, it pours. And I haven't seen the sun in months.
I know, I know...
In my own words...Boo frickety hoo, right? I'm done now.
Chin up, have faith, it can only get better, keep trying--all that fortune cookie mumbo-jumbo. Got it. Just had to get this out. And now I have.
Finally, come to think of it--maybe some of this is partially linked together.
Maybe Coop from BASEketball had it right all along...
"I'm telling you it's jobs. We gotta get jobs. Then we get the khakis. Then we get the chicks." - Joseph R. Cooper [BASEketball]
Bright side: I already own khakis. See, told you--glass half full kind of fellow.
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Let me start by saying this...
I am a happy person. I love Jesus, all the people close to me, and the Chicago Cubs. In that order. Unless the game's on TV--then flip-flop numbers two and three.
I almost always have a chipper anecdote to supply to anyone who'll listen. Most of you know what I'm good at: making people laugh, spelling stuff real good-like, and hitting the occasional jumper.
But ... I have a talent many people are unaware of--hiding it when something's wrong. I usually put on a good front, feign a smile and brush things off with ease. Well, I'm not very fond of that talent at the moment, so I'm here to vent, in a way. Bear with me. Here goes nothing...
It's been a hard [expletive] year--to say the least...
Work--or lack thereof.
362 days ago, I quit my job. Regardless of what has transpired since, I don't regret it.
My reasons:
A. I don't regret things. Ever--solves nothing.
B. It was a sales gig that I hated (and sucked at); I would've been let go soon, anyway.
From November-June, I subsequently applied at 57 different establishments--yes, I kept track. Three interviews. One second interview. No real inklings. The phrase "over-qualified" is something I will never understand.
More of the same since I was forced to move back home.
I've since been called a "bum" by someone who doesn't even know the first thing about me. Not to sound cliche, but if you're one of those kinds of people--keep my name out of your mouth, period.
"Loser" has been bandied about.
Today, I was called "lazy" by someone who's a good friend, yet seems to have developed a propensity for hurting my feelings.
Don't do that. Call it "Truth-Hurts-Syndrome," if you want. But I mean, c'mon. Regardless of your opinion, who talks to people that way? The moral? There's almost always more to a situation than what you know--so watch the way you speak to people.
I do have an idea for (hopefully) next year--teaching/coaching out-of-state--but I need to save up some money in the meantime before that even becomes a legit plan. So far, no go.
Girls--or lack thereof.
136 days ago, she said she still loved me.
Less than 94 days later, she was engaged to someone else. Awesome.
I recently moved on from an ex-girlfriend who...let's face it...didn't treat me very well. There, I said it. No qualms about it anymore--things happen. While I can honestly say I don't miss her (hooray, me), the situation itself took a toll on me. You know, leaving doubts and such. Not the "all girls are the same" kind of doubts. Those kinds of baseless stereotypes irritate me, and I'm not ignorant enough to buy in. Just the impatient, "when's it my turn?" kind of doubts--you know.
Plus, I'm picky. Very picky. To any who don't know me, it might seem pompous. Shoot, maybe it is. It seems to take a lot for me to find a girl I really like. When I finally do, there's always a pretty substantial roadblock. Specifically, she's either got a boyfriend (who's generally an idiot), or is simply ridiculously unattainable. And yes, I have specific--and very recent examples for each.
Regardless of the circumstances, it just never seems to matter. Especially over the last year. It's been a strain, without a doubt.
I'm almost 25 years old. I have no job, no money, no girlfriend--no life. And no excuse. When it rains, it pours. And I haven't seen the sun in months.
I know, I know...
In my own words...Boo frickety hoo, right? I'm done now.
Chin up, have faith, it can only get better, keep trying--all that fortune cookie mumbo-jumbo. Got it. Just had to get this out. And now I have.
Finally, come to think of it--maybe some of this is partially linked together.
Maybe Coop from BASEketball had it right all along...
"I'm telling you it's jobs. We gotta get jobs. Then we get the khakis. Then we get the chicks." - Joseph R. Cooper [BASEketball]
Bright side: I already own khakis. See, told you--glass half full kind of fellow.
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Monday, November 2, 2009
Ignorance is bliss...well, sometimes.
Here is a list of all the things I know...
#1:
Do the right thing,
Derrick
#1:
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Degree in liberal arts? You want fries with that?
As you probably know, I attended 4 colleges in my post-secondary career. Primarily in my quest to play college basketball--which I did. But that aside, I decided it might be fun to compare the different aspects of each, once and for all. Just kind of compiling my various favorites at each place.
Pittsburg State University: NCAA Div. II--Pittsburg, KS (Fall 2003)
Mascot: Gorillas
Where I played ball: The Weede Gymnasium--on PSU campus, Pittsburg YMCA
Best basketball moment: Dominating 3-on3 intramurals with Justin, Cortney, and Eric.
Best teacher: Chuck Killingsworth. He only "taught" my Freshman Experience class, but he's the only guy whose name I remember, and was a pretty cool guy.
Best friend: Justin Rogers
Crushes: Krystine Foster, Laura Garrison
McPherson College: NAIA--McPherson, KS (Spring/Fall 2004)
Mascot: Bulldogs
Where I played ball: Sports Center--on MC campus.
Best basketball moment: Getting the chance to play for Coach Trimmell--even if just in practice. Scoring 56 points in an intramural game was pretty neat, too.
Best teacher: Whoever taught my biology class. Female, maybe in her late-30s or so. She was pregnant during one of my two semesters there (for anyone reading this who may know who I'm talking about). She was real cool, and actually got me semi-interested in science--which I never thought possible. Wish I could remember her name...
Best friend: Justin Bacon
Crush: Sarah Story
Kansas Wesleyan University: NAIA--Salina, KS (Spring 2005)
Mascot: Coyotes
Where I played ball: St. John's Military School--I played there with some football guys on occasion. Oh, and don't forget the shoddy old gym with the yellow lighting.
Best basketball moment: Playing college basketball, period. Circumstances were all but ideal, but I did it, nonetheless. Playing against my pals from McPherson, and my ex-roommates Donta' and Travis was really cool--though I would've rather been on the other side.
Best teacher: No good ones stand out. This was not a pleasant semester for me. Yikes.
Best friend: No one. Not while I was there, anyway. Ashley Hurd and I have become good friends since, though.
Crush: No one. I kept to myself--a lot.
Wichita State University: NCAA Div. I--Wichita, KS (2005-2007)
Mascot: Shockers
Where I played ball: Heskett Center--on WSU campus. Still play there whenever I can get back up there. I try to once a week.
Best basketball moment: Just the everyday camaraderie of the guys up at Heskett.
Best teacher: Stephen Hathaway. I took three different Literature classes from him. Would've taken more if I could. Hilarious man, and a very good teacher. Second place: Lindsey Harvell. But mostly because we became friends after that class. It was her first semester as a "real teacher," and she's only 3 years older than me. Cool chick.
Best friend: Amanda Walker. Best person I know, period. My hero. Though I miss Mac all the time, had I stayed, I never would've met her. Because of her, I realize God has a plan with everything He does.
Crushes: Amanda Walker, Darcie Spresser.
Is it weird that I never dated a single one of these college crushes? The only girlfriend I ever had while in college was with a girl I'd actually gone to High School with. This seems a little sad.
Tale of the tape:
Best campus: McPherson College. Small, but very homey. I miss that place every day.
Best cafeteria: Pittsburg State. The food may have been slightly better at Mac, but the convenience, the selection, and friendliness of cooks gives Pitt the edge.
Best dorms: McPherson College. Especially if you lived in Morrison Hall. Second place: Wichita State. The other two schools? Not quality.
Best athletic facilities: McPherson College. K-Dub has built a new gym that I haven't seen since I left. WSU has a very slick D-1 arena (Koch). But without a legit football stadium--or at least a team to use it--it's got to be Mac.
Best coach: Roger Trimmell, McPherson College. Not really even close here. If you know him, you know why. Second place: Nelson Haggerty (ex-Pitt State assistant). Very caring young coach who deserves a shot at the big-time someday. Honorable mention: Mark Turgeon (ex-WSU coach). A few isolated conversations with him, and attended a camp, but obviously never played for him.
I am sure this is not the least bit interesting to any of you, but it gave me something to sort out, if nothing else. Curse me and my OCD, eh?
*Sigh*
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Pittsburg State University: NCAA Div. II--Pittsburg, KS (Fall 2003)
Mascot: Gorillas
Where I played ball: The Weede Gymnasium--on PSU campus, Pittsburg YMCA
Best basketball moment: Dominating 3-on3 intramurals with Justin, Cortney, and Eric.
Best teacher: Chuck Killingsworth. He only "taught" my Freshman Experience class, but he's the only guy whose name I remember, and was a pretty cool guy.
Best friend: Justin Rogers
Crushes: Krystine Foster, Laura Garrison
McPherson College: NAIA--McPherson, KS (Spring/Fall 2004)
Mascot: Bulldogs
Where I played ball: Sports Center--on MC campus.
Best basketball moment: Getting the chance to play for Coach Trimmell--even if just in practice. Scoring 56 points in an intramural game was pretty neat, too.
Best teacher: Whoever taught my biology class. Female, maybe in her late-30s or so. She was pregnant during one of my two semesters there (for anyone reading this who may know who I'm talking about). She was real cool, and actually got me semi-interested in science--which I never thought possible. Wish I could remember her name...
Best friend: Justin Bacon
Crush: Sarah Story
Kansas Wesleyan University: NAIA--Salina, KS (Spring 2005)
Mascot: Coyotes
Where I played ball: St. John's Military School--I played there with some football guys on occasion. Oh, and don't forget the shoddy old gym with the yellow lighting.
Best basketball moment: Playing college basketball, period. Circumstances were all but ideal, but I did it, nonetheless. Playing against my pals from McPherson, and my ex-roommates Donta' and Travis was really cool--though I would've rather been on the other side.
Best teacher: No good ones stand out. This was not a pleasant semester for me. Yikes.
Best friend: No one. Not while I was there, anyway. Ashley Hurd and I have become good friends since, though.
Crush: No one. I kept to myself--a lot.
Wichita State University: NCAA Div. I--Wichita, KS (2005-2007)
Mascot: Shockers
Where I played ball: Heskett Center--on WSU campus. Still play there whenever I can get back up there. I try to once a week.
Best basketball moment: Just the everyday camaraderie of the guys up at Heskett.
Best teacher: Stephen Hathaway. I took three different Literature classes from him. Would've taken more if I could. Hilarious man, and a very good teacher. Second place: Lindsey Harvell. But mostly because we became friends after that class. It was her first semester as a "real teacher," and she's only 3 years older than me. Cool chick.
Best friend: Amanda Walker. Best person I know, period. My hero. Though I miss Mac all the time, had I stayed, I never would've met her. Because of her, I realize God has a plan with everything He does.
Crushes: Amanda Walker, Darcie Spresser.
Is it weird that I never dated a single one of these college crushes? The only girlfriend I ever had while in college was with a girl I'd actually gone to High School with. This seems a little sad.
Tale of the tape:
Best campus: McPherson College. Small, but very homey. I miss that place every day.
Best cafeteria: Pittsburg State. The food may have been slightly better at Mac, but the convenience, the selection, and friendliness of cooks gives Pitt the edge.
Best dorms: McPherson College. Especially if you lived in Morrison Hall. Second place: Wichita State. The other two schools? Not quality.
Best athletic facilities: McPherson College. K-Dub has built a new gym that I haven't seen since I left. WSU has a very slick D-1 arena (Koch). But without a legit football stadium--or at least a team to use it--it's got to be Mac.
Best coach: Roger Trimmell, McPherson College. Not really even close here. If you know him, you know why. Second place: Nelson Haggerty (ex-Pitt State assistant). Very caring young coach who deserves a shot at the big-time someday. Honorable mention: Mark Turgeon (ex-WSU coach). A few isolated conversations with him, and attended a camp, but obviously never played for him.
I am sure this is not the least bit interesting to any of you, but it gave me something to sort out, if nothing else. Curse me and my OCD, eh?
*Sigh*
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Monday, October 19, 2009
Warning: If you read this, you'll learn something new...
I'm a pretty open cat, if you know me. Finding a secret on me is like finding a needle made from hay in...well, you know--a haystack.
But I decided to dig deep and come up with some things that some folks may not know about me. I do this every-so-often, and figured I was due. Some of these things are quite embarrassing--but alas...
- In 2nd grade, I wanted to be a preacher when I grew up.
- I'd had a long day at school and basketball practice the day before my grandfather died--so I told my mom I'd pass on visiting him in the hospital. Doctors assured us his condition wasn't serious, and he'd be fine. No worries, I figured--I'd see him in a few days. He passed away in the middle of the night. My decision that day still bothers me sometimes.
- My first kiss was approximately 6 weeks before my 18th birthday.
- I would marry (______) today, if she let me.
- I had this High School classmate--real cool chica. I've said occasionally for years (almost always to myself) that I definitely wouldn't mind marrying a girl exactly like her someday. I can't think of anyone who knows (guessing aside) who I'm referring to.
- If I don't have a kid before December 19, 2014--I will consider myself a major disappointment.
- The first episode of SportsCenter I ever recall watching was on November 7, 1991. It remains the most memorable thing I've ever seen on ESPN. I couldn't actually find an ESPN clip--they appear to be stingy with their rights--but here's one from CNN. It's 9:56 long, but you'll get the idea very shortly.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSfy4AhDDnw
- I did not go to my High School graduation. People insisted I'd regret it, but truth be told, I often even forget that I didn't go. My college graduation was much more important to me. I went to that one--almost entirely for my mom.
- I absolutely love Pretty Prairie, KS. There, I said it.
- I love to sing. Almost exclusively in my car. Primarily along with various country songs, but not that part's not exclusive. I'm convinced I'm pretty okay at it, too.
- I was 100% comfortable with my weight until 2005. My college basketball coach (Jones, not Trimmell--Trimmell was too busy being a good person, and winning games to ever demean his players) made several comments about it. Even resorted to cheap name-calling. To this day, I am self-conscious about my weight because of that man. I think about it at least a dozen times a day.
- I have never been in a relationship with anyone on Facebook. I've also never had a girlfriend in the summertime. Or the fall, now that I think about it. More specifically, never between June-October. Whoa...
One last one that I'm borrowing from a flick (gee, guess which one), but I always liked it, and it holds true for me, too...
- "I could be fun, if you want. I could be pensive, uhh...smart, superstitious, brave? And I, uhh--I can be light on my feet. I could be whatever you want. You just tell me what you want, and I'm gonna be that for you."
"You're dumb."
- "I could be that."
Do the right thing,
Derrick
But I decided to dig deep and come up with some things that some folks may not know about me. I do this every-so-often, and figured I was due. Some of these things are quite embarrassing--but alas...
- In 2nd grade, I wanted to be a preacher when I grew up.
- I'd had a long day at school and basketball practice the day before my grandfather died--so I told my mom I'd pass on visiting him in the hospital. Doctors assured us his condition wasn't serious, and he'd be fine. No worries, I figured--I'd see him in a few days. He passed away in the middle of the night. My decision that day still bothers me sometimes.
- My first kiss was approximately 6 weeks before my 18th birthday.
- I would marry (______) today, if she let me.
- I had this High School classmate--real cool chica. I've said occasionally for years (almost always to myself) that I definitely wouldn't mind marrying a girl exactly like her someday. I can't think of anyone who knows (guessing aside) who I'm referring to.
- If I don't have a kid before December 19, 2014--I will consider myself a major disappointment.
- The first episode of SportsCenter I ever recall watching was on November 7, 1991. It remains the most memorable thing I've ever seen on ESPN. I couldn't actually find an ESPN clip--they appear to be stingy with their rights--but here's one from CNN. It's 9:56 long, but you'll get the idea very shortly.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSfy4AhDDnw
- I did not go to my High School graduation. People insisted I'd regret it, but truth be told, I often even forget that I didn't go. My college graduation was much more important to me. I went to that one--almost entirely for my mom.
- I absolutely love Pretty Prairie, KS. There, I said it.
- I love to sing. Almost exclusively in my car. Primarily along with various country songs, but not that part's not exclusive. I'm convinced I'm pretty okay at it, too.
- I was 100% comfortable with my weight until 2005. My college basketball coach (Jones, not Trimmell--Trimmell was too busy being a good person, and winning games to ever demean his players) made several comments about it. Even resorted to cheap name-calling. To this day, I am self-conscious about my weight because of that man. I think about it at least a dozen times a day.
- I have never been in a relationship with anyone on Facebook. I've also never had a girlfriend in the summertime. Or the fall, now that I think about it. More specifically, never between June-October. Whoa...
One last one that I'm borrowing from a flick (gee, guess which one), but I always liked it, and it holds true for me, too...
- "I could be fun, if you want. I could be pensive, uhh...smart, superstitious, brave? And I, uhh--I can be light on my feet. I could be whatever you want. You just tell me what you want, and I'm gonna be that for you."
"You're dumb."
- "I could be that."
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Saturday, October 10, 2009
My friend, Ashley--my other half. Not like that, though.
So my good friend Ashley moved to St. Louis [well, Ballwin], Missouri this past week. I promised I'd write a blog about her, so here goes...
Ashley Erin Hurd was born in...
Just kidding. Not that kind of blog. That'd be weird.
Ashley and I are...well, pretty different. Then again, we're exactly the same.
Let's run the stats:
She's a chick, I'm a dude.
She's black, I'm white.
She's from the city, I'm from the country.
That's where the differences end...
We're kind of the same, otherwise. I can't tell you how many movies we went to together--20, Ashley? Somewhere in there, I reckon. That was our main outlet for hanging out--going to the movies. That, and her soccer games. Man, her soccer games...
Various teammates of hers basically thought we should be married. We constantly bickered at each other (in a loving way, of course), so I guess they figured we already acted married, anyway. After the first few times, we really just did it to mess with them. Pretty funny stuff.
We have a unique relationship--where one of us will say: "I hate you," and the other just laughs. On her last day, she said something--picking on me--and I replied: "Man, I'm so glad you're leaving." We all busted out laughing.
Obviously, that wasn't true. I miss her--always will. She is a terrific person. Lots of fun. Just don't tell her I said that.
Most embarrassing moment with Ashley: Clubbing in Kansas City for her birthday--group of 10. How many white folks do you think were in the group? Yup, just me. It was all gravy, though--until we hit this one spot. You know the kind--where you're certain you'll see three or four handguns just within your peripherals, upon entry. The kind of back-alley hole in the wall that charges you $20 to get in, even though the place is no bigger than your kitchen at home. Packed to the gills, too. If you think my blood was pumping a little faster that night--you'd be correct.
**Since we somehow don't have a single picture with just the two of us...this is the best I could come do (from that night, too). All 10 of us in an elevator. Cropped the best I could, but Brian's shades--and G's forehead--still made it into the shot.**
Most important lesson learned from Ashley: White people can love Popeye's chicken, too. Which is nice, because it's pretty much--not to oversell it here--the best thing ever in life. I may never eat KFC again. KFC is like the retarded, blind little step-brother of Popeye's. Gosh darn it, he tries hard, but he just doesn't get the job done.
Most harrowing moment with Ashley: It's the 21st century. People shouldn't have an issue with mixed-race couples by now. But set a white guy and a black girl (who are 110% just friends, by the way, and always will be) on a bench in downtown Wichita, KS after midnight--you'd be surprised how many awkward looks you get. We had fun with it. That's how we are. Kind of like with her teammates--always fun to mess with people. Still, just a little ridiculous.
Most annoying moment with Ashley: I may never forgive her for making me sit through Mamma Mia. Two hours and nine bucks I'll never get back. Absolute garbage. May be the closest thing to a real fight we ever have.
Anyways, I've rambled on long enough. You get the idea. If I say much more, she might get the idea that she's actually important to me. Yuck!
Just kidding, Ashley.
I miss you.
I hope your new home suits you well, and that this finds you smiling.
Your white friend,
Derrick
Ashley Erin Hurd was born in...
Just kidding. Not that kind of blog. That'd be weird.
Ashley and I are...well, pretty different. Then again, we're exactly the same.
Let's run the stats:
She's a chick, I'm a dude.
She's black, I'm white.
She's from the city, I'm from the country.
That's where the differences end...
We're kind of the same, otherwise. I can't tell you how many movies we went to together--20, Ashley? Somewhere in there, I reckon. That was our main outlet for hanging out--going to the movies. That, and her soccer games. Man, her soccer games...
Various teammates of hers basically thought we should be married. We constantly bickered at each other (in a loving way, of course), so I guess they figured we already acted married, anyway. After the first few times, we really just did it to mess with them. Pretty funny stuff.
We have a unique relationship--where one of us will say: "I hate you," and the other just laughs. On her last day, she said something--picking on me--and I replied: "Man, I'm so glad you're leaving." We all busted out laughing.
Obviously, that wasn't true. I miss her--always will. She is a terrific person. Lots of fun. Just don't tell her I said that.
Most embarrassing moment with Ashley: Clubbing in Kansas City for her birthday--group of 10. How many white folks do you think were in the group? Yup, just me. It was all gravy, though--until we hit this one spot. You know the kind--where you're certain you'll see three or four handguns just within your peripherals, upon entry. The kind of back-alley hole in the wall that charges you $20 to get in, even though the place is no bigger than your kitchen at home. Packed to the gills, too. If you think my blood was pumping a little faster that night--you'd be correct.
**Since we somehow don't have a single picture with just the two of us...this is the best I could come do (from that night, too). All 10 of us in an elevator. Cropped the best I could, but Brian's shades--and G's forehead--still made it into the shot.**
Most important lesson learned from Ashley: White people can love Popeye's chicken, too. Which is nice, because it's pretty much--not to oversell it here--the best thing ever in life. I may never eat KFC again. KFC is like the retarded, blind little step-brother of Popeye's. Gosh darn it, he tries hard, but he just doesn't get the job done.
Most harrowing moment with Ashley: It's the 21st century. People shouldn't have an issue with mixed-race couples by now. But set a white guy and a black girl (who are 110% just friends, by the way, and always will be) on a bench in downtown Wichita, KS after midnight--you'd be surprised how many awkward looks you get. We had fun with it. That's how we are. Kind of like with her teammates--always fun to mess with people. Still, just a little ridiculous.
Most annoying moment with Ashley: I may never forgive her for making me sit through Mamma Mia. Two hours and nine bucks I'll never get back. Absolute garbage. May be the closest thing to a real fight we ever have.
Anyways, I've rambled on long enough. You get the idea. If I say much more, she might get the idea that she's actually important to me. Yuck!
Just kidding, Ashley.
I miss you.
I hope your new home suits you well, and that this finds you smiling.
Your white friend,
Derrick
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
A half-truth equals a whole lie.
Since my sister [hi, Rhonda] recently blogged about lying, and I seem to lack creativity lately--I will, too. Going to try to dive a little deeper into the topic of lying, rather than just bellyache about it--like most people seem to do.
I've always thought it was silly for people to ask: "Why do guys (or girls) lie?"
I have two thoughts when I hear this question...
1. There are different "reasons"--no one in particular.
2. It shouldn't matter why they lie, just that they lie. Shows character--err, lack thereof.
1. The reason I say there are many reasons is because it depends on the person, and the situation.
- Some people lie just because they can. They probably got away with it once, and they saw how easy it was for them.
- Some people lie out of guilt. They probably did something they knew was wrong, and assume the truth will hurt more, so they lie to "protect" the person they're lying to.
-The vague question of "Why do people lie?," as if the answer is roundly the same--ridiculous. Each case is different.
In my case...I don't know why I was lied to. My best guess is this...
-She wanted so badly for me to like her (at first, anyway), that she tried to be the person she thought I wanted. In fairness, she was probably lying to herself, too. But that's no better. In fact, it may be even worse than lying to me.
2. Once you know you've been lied to, things seem to crumble from there. How far back do the lies go? Where do they end?
-Example: I was blatantly ignored for months [convinced she found someone else, and decided instead of being honest, disregarding my existence all together was an easier route]. And then...
I get a 2-page text message apology out of the blue last week. It read (exactly) as follows...
"I know I am probably the last person you want to hear from, but i want to apologize. I am sorry for hurting you. You deserve so much better than me. Whoever you end up w/ is very lucky and i hope she knows that. You are an amazing guy i let slip through my fingers."
Quasi-sincere, eh? Or maybe not. My conclusion?
Doesn't matter whether it is or isn't. The motives for such an act were obviously skewed, regardless of their intent--thus not warranting a reply.
Could the text itself be a lie? Sure. Could it be heartfelt? Maybe. Though evidence points to the contrary. Regardless, for once in my life, I don't want the last word.
Several response ideas popped in my head at the time. Here are some samples:
"I wouldn't have slipped through your fingers, if you would've bothered to hold on."
"All you ever had to do was make an effort, and be honest."
"Yeah, I know."
"Liar."
But it wasn't worth it. High road, and all that jazz, you know...
It was great for a time--it really was. But was it real? I think so. But even then, my drastic efforts aside--something changed. And I'm done with it.
I'm choosing to say more...by saying nothing. I'm darn proud of that decision.
...and that's no lie.
"Always tell the truth. That way, you don't have to remember what you said." - Mark Twain
Do the right thing,
Derrick
PS--Random thought of the day: If anyone knows any girls with a voice even half as sexy as Jennifer Nettles, send her my digits. These are two of the most incredible music videos I've ever seen--and I'm a dude. Check them out--even if you've seen them before. You can almost see her soul. Amazing, I think.
Just goes to show...vulnerable can be sexy.
"Stay"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIyxkZod2cM&feature=PlayList&p=6FBE4F77F860DCF8&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=1
"Keep You"
http://www.cmt.com/videos/sugarland/441354/keep-you.jhtml?id=1622764
This woman would be hot, even if she were ugly. But she isn't--and that's awesome. Enjoy.
I've always thought it was silly for people to ask: "Why do guys (or girls) lie?"
I have two thoughts when I hear this question...
1. There are different "reasons"--no one in particular.
2. It shouldn't matter why they lie, just that they lie. Shows character--err, lack thereof.
1. The reason I say there are many reasons is because it depends on the person, and the situation.
- Some people lie just because they can. They probably got away with it once, and they saw how easy it was for them.
- Some people lie out of guilt. They probably did something they knew was wrong, and assume the truth will hurt more, so they lie to "protect" the person they're lying to.
-The vague question of "Why do people lie?," as if the answer is roundly the same--ridiculous. Each case is different.
In my case...I don't know why I was lied to. My best guess is this...
-She wanted so badly for me to like her (at first, anyway), that she tried to be the person she thought I wanted. In fairness, she was probably lying to herself, too. But that's no better. In fact, it may be even worse than lying to me.
2. Once you know you've been lied to, things seem to crumble from there. How far back do the lies go? Where do they end?
-Example: I was blatantly ignored for months [convinced she found someone else, and decided instead of being honest, disregarding my existence all together was an easier route]. And then...
I get a 2-page text message apology out of the blue last week. It read (exactly) as follows...
"I know I am probably the last person you want to hear from, but i want to apologize. I am sorry for hurting you. You deserve so much better than me. Whoever you end up w/ is very lucky and i hope she knows that. You are an amazing guy i let slip through my fingers."
Quasi-sincere, eh? Or maybe not. My conclusion?
Doesn't matter whether it is or isn't. The motives for such an act were obviously skewed, regardless of their intent--thus not warranting a reply.
Could the text itself be a lie? Sure. Could it be heartfelt? Maybe. Though evidence points to the contrary. Regardless, for once in my life, I don't want the last word.
Several response ideas popped in my head at the time. Here are some samples:
"I wouldn't have slipped through your fingers, if you would've bothered to hold on."
"All you ever had to do was make an effort, and be honest."
"Yeah, I know."
"Liar."
But it wasn't worth it. High road, and all that jazz, you know...
It was great for a time--it really was. But was it real? I think so. But even then, my drastic efforts aside--something changed. And I'm done with it.
I'm choosing to say more...by saying nothing. I'm darn proud of that decision.
...and that's no lie.
"Always tell the truth. That way, you don't have to remember what you said." - Mark Twain
Do the right thing,
Derrick
PS--Random thought of the day: If anyone knows any girls with a voice even half as sexy as Jennifer Nettles, send her my digits. These are two of the most incredible music videos I've ever seen--and I'm a dude. Check them out--even if you've seen them before. You can almost see her soul. Amazing, I think.
Just goes to show...vulnerable can be sexy.
"Stay"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIyxkZod2cM&feature=PlayList&p=6FBE4F77F860DCF8&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=1
"Keep You"
http://www.cmt.com/videos/sugarland/441354/keep-you.jhtml?id=1622764
This woman would be hot, even if she were ugly. But she isn't--and that's awesome. Enjoy.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
You can't trade cents for sense.
Just for kicks and giggles, I decided to ponder a few things that don't make any sense to me, whatsoever...here goes:
1. Why we're taught "I before E, except after C." That's just sheer ignorance.
Just off the top of my head:
neighbor
weigh
weight
eight
sleigh
vein
veil
height
either
neither
seize
weird
I could go on, but you get the idea.
2. The phrase "after dark." The way it is used makes no sense. "After dark" is said when someone is referring to nighttime--thus making it after light.
3. "Promotional considerations provided by..." Don't get me wrong, I get it. But to me, this sounds like they're saying: "Here are some folks who thought about promoting our show, but then decided not to."
4. Disney characters Goofy and Pluto. Goofy stands, walks around--and wears clothes--just like a human. Pluto walks on all fours, and even has a collar. Um...they're both dogs. What gives?
5. Signs on dirt roads that say "Muddy When Wet." Why is that even necessary? Maybe it's a Kansas backwoods thing?
6. If you buy a CD at Wal-Mart that may have profane language, it's edited out--but you can buy guns and ammo there.
7. You can go to war and die for your country at 18, but can't drink until 21. Remember, this is coming from someone who doesn't drink, and couldn't care less about the drinking age. But still...
8. It's illegal to tape record Monday Night Football, then watch it with your friends--without expressed written consent.
9. It's against the law to rip the tag off your mattress.
10. The horrible fear of spiders. This is my most "normal" mention, but...I just don't get it, and never will. Anything that can fit under my shoe--you know, for the sake of squishing--I refuse to fear. Sorry.
Addendum: Spider bites are another story. For example, if a huge spider crawls across my face and bites me in my sleep--OK, I'll be upset, and aching, no doubt. Or if I wake up with one on my face, I'll certainly be startled. But otherwise? Eh.
+
=
Couldn't think of anything significant to write, so this is what I came up with. Lame, eh? I'll write something more substantial soon. Enjoy.
Do the right thing,
Derrick
1. Why we're taught "I before E, except after C." That's just sheer ignorance.
Just off the top of my head:
neighbor
weigh
weight
eight
sleigh
vein
veil
height
either
neither
seize
weird
I could go on, but you get the idea.
2. The phrase "after dark." The way it is used makes no sense. "After dark" is said when someone is referring to nighttime--thus making it after light.
3. "Promotional considerations provided by..." Don't get me wrong, I get it. But to me, this sounds like they're saying: "Here are some folks who thought about promoting our show, but then decided not to."
4. Disney characters Goofy and Pluto. Goofy stands, walks around--and wears clothes--just like a human. Pluto walks on all fours, and even has a collar. Um...they're both dogs. What gives?
5. Signs on dirt roads that say "Muddy When Wet." Why is that even necessary? Maybe it's a Kansas backwoods thing?
6. If you buy a CD at Wal-Mart that may have profane language, it's edited out--but you can buy guns and ammo there.
7. You can go to war and die for your country at 18, but can't drink until 21. Remember, this is coming from someone who doesn't drink, and couldn't care less about the drinking age. But still...
8. It's illegal to tape record Monday Night Football, then watch it with your friends--without expressed written consent.
9. It's against the law to rip the tag off your mattress.
10. The horrible fear of spiders. This is my most "normal" mention, but...I just don't get it, and never will. Anything that can fit under my shoe--you know, for the sake of squishing--I refuse to fear. Sorry.
Addendum: Spider bites are another story. For example, if a huge spider crawls across my face and bites me in my sleep--OK, I'll be upset, and aching, no doubt. Or if I wake up with one on my face, I'll certainly be startled. But otherwise? Eh.
+
=
Couldn't think of anything significant to write, so this is what I came up with. Lame, eh? I'll write something more substantial soon. Enjoy.
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Who are you? Really...
Who are you?
What do you stand for?
"If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything." - attributed to many, including US Senate Chaplain Peter Marshall, Alexander Hamilton, and the more recognizable Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, Jr. Take your pick.
I stand for honorable and decent behavior towards all.
I stand up for the young and old, the big and small.
I stand when people ask if I believe in God.
I stand up for my friends, even when they're odd.
Who are you?
What are your standards?
"Aim above morality. Be not simply good, be good for something." - Henry David Thoreau
This question is pretty broad--and a matter of perception.
When it comes to actions (specifically in a prospective girl): Don't smoke...don't talk like a sailor...don't talk to me about the Yankees--seriously, I find them reprehensible, and a strong representative of all that is soulless and wrong with not only sports, but society in general...don't use the word "busy" or say things like "FML"--ever...don't talk too much in general...don't be cocky or self-absorbed...don't be...well...a hoard of other things that you can ask me about later, but should already know if you know me at all...
When it comes to ethics: Treat people right, period. Should be all I need to say, but many people don't seem get it, so here's more: Open doors for girls, whether they're 2 or 92. Talk to strangers. I've never understood why people say not to--that's terrible advice! Be a courteous driver. Give things away--even when you can't afford to...Money. Clothes. Love. Organs. You laugh; I'm serious.
Who are you?
Who do you play for?
"Mike Eruzione--Winthrop, Massachusetts...I play for...the United States of America." - Mike Eruzione, played by actor Patrick O'Brien Demsey--"Miracle"
Okay, that was corny. But sports are a big part of my life, and it's effective.
I was a Kansas Wesleyan Coyote for the only "official" time I spent as a college basketball player.
But I will always be a Bulldog at heart...
I was a McPherson College Bulldog in my collegiate days that mattered most to me. I still miss it there every day.
I grew up a Pretty Prairie Bulldog. It's in my heart--it's embedded in me.
Who are you?
What do you represent?
"I'm a better person than I was yesterday, but not as good as I will be tomorrow." - Derrick Mead
Yes, I just quoted myself.
I'm a country boy--but not a hick.
I'm a basketball player--coach, too.
I'm a writer and a prankster.
I'm confident and shy at the same time.
I'm a serious listener and a funny talker.
I'm just dumb enough to be smart--or maybe the other way around.
I want people to know me, but not really.
It's the reason I changed my major in college.
I once wanted nothing more than to be a sports commentator--preferably baseball. From ages 8-20 I dreamed about one day calling moments like this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBJ89V7A_3c
The names Kirk Gibson and Joe Carter will always give me goosebumps just at the mere sound of them.
But ultimately, I didn't want to be that widely seen--or heard. I want to be much more discreet, but inspirational at the same time. Like maybe becoming the most successful basketball coach at a school no one has ever heard of--something like that.
It's the reason I'm a friend to all, but a stranger to many.
I'll help anyone in need. Example: I spent almost 2 hours helping a lady who should've been killed after rolling her car several times a few months back at 3 AM.
Never told her my name, though.
That's just who I am.
So tell me...
Who are you?
Do the right thing,
Derrick
What do you stand for?
"If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything." - attributed to many, including US Senate Chaplain Peter Marshall, Alexander Hamilton, and the more recognizable Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, Jr. Take your pick.
I stand for honorable and decent behavior towards all.
I stand up for the young and old, the big and small.
I stand when people ask if I believe in God.
I stand up for my friends, even when they're odd.
Who are you?
What are your standards?
"Aim above morality. Be not simply good, be good for something." - Henry David Thoreau
This question is pretty broad--and a matter of perception.
When it comes to actions (specifically in a prospective girl): Don't smoke...don't talk like a sailor...don't talk to me about the Yankees--seriously, I find them reprehensible, and a strong representative of all that is soulless and wrong with not only sports, but society in general...don't use the word "busy" or say things like "FML"--ever...don't talk too much in general...don't be cocky or self-absorbed...don't be...well...a hoard of other things that you can ask me about later, but should already know if you know me at all...
When it comes to ethics: Treat people right, period. Should be all I need to say, but many people don't seem get it, so here's more: Open doors for girls, whether they're 2 or 92. Talk to strangers. I've never understood why people say not to--that's terrible advice! Be a courteous driver. Give things away--even when you can't afford to...Money. Clothes. Love. Organs. You laugh; I'm serious.
Who are you?
Who do you play for?
"Mike Eruzione--Winthrop, Massachusetts...I play for...the United States of America." - Mike Eruzione, played by actor Patrick O'Brien Demsey--"Miracle"
Okay, that was corny. But sports are a big part of my life, and it's effective.
I was a Kansas Wesleyan Coyote for the only "official" time I spent as a college basketball player.
But I will always be a Bulldog at heart...
I was a McPherson College Bulldog in my collegiate days that mattered most to me. I still miss it there every day.
I grew up a Pretty Prairie Bulldog. It's in my heart--it's embedded in me.
Who are you?
What do you represent?
"I'm a better person than I was yesterday, but not as good as I will be tomorrow." - Derrick Mead
Yes, I just quoted myself.
I'm a country boy--but not a hick.
I'm a basketball player--coach, too.
I'm a writer and a prankster.
I'm confident and shy at the same time.
I'm a serious listener and a funny talker.
I'm just dumb enough to be smart--or maybe the other way around.
I want people to know me, but not really.
It's the reason I changed my major in college.
I once wanted nothing more than to be a sports commentator--preferably baseball. From ages 8-20 I dreamed about one day calling moments like this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBJ89V7A_3c
The names Kirk Gibson and Joe Carter will always give me goosebumps just at the mere sound of them.
But ultimately, I didn't want to be that widely seen--or heard. I want to be much more discreet, but inspirational at the same time. Like maybe becoming the most successful basketball coach at a school no one has ever heard of--something like that.
It's the reason I'm a friend to all, but a stranger to many.
I'll help anyone in need. Example: I spent almost 2 hours helping a lady who should've been killed after rolling her car several times a few months back at 3 AM.
Never told her my name, though.
That's just who I am.
Who are you?
Do the right thing,
Derrick
Friday, September 25, 2009
Be a light--wherever you are.
I was bound and determined to write something important earlier this evening...err, yesterday by now. Then writer's block hit. Then distraction hit. But then again...
You'd be surprised how much inspiration you can find...
in a giant bowl of Crunch Berries...
at 2 AM.
Now while I still don't intend to get a whole lot written this time around, the wheels have at least begun turning. Hopefully this is a sign of things to come.
No idea what's going to come of each keystroke, or if it'll resemble anything coherent, but here goes...
I know I've talked about my best friend Amanda in numerous blogs before, but you know what--why not again?
When I think of Amanda, I think about faith. Amanda Lee Walker taught me more about Jesus in a month, than the rest of the world has taught me in over 24 years. Weird thing is, it's not like we just sat around and gabbed about God, 24/7. But I feel He speaks to me through her--my guardian angel.
There are several things I've learned about God from Amanda that I'm sure she isn't even aware of. The biggest one is this...I think we all need to reassess the ways in which we talk to God. Don't get me wrong, if you talk to God at all, I think you're doing all right. But I think we can do more...
I think too many of us (myself included) ask too much of God. We ask Him to send us answers, shower us with gifts, grant us miracles, and so on. Though I, too, am guilty of this--it seems silly to me. Why do we do this?
I think we should open our eyes and realize that in many instances in our lives, God is actually asking us questions. Maybe this seems crazy to you. True, God knows what we will do, and what we will go through...but I also feel that he presents us with opportunities all throughout our days, as if to say: "What do you want to do?" Options, or paths, if you will.
I think that's where free will comes into play. Even Amanda once wrote: "...I gave up trying to understand that whole subject." Well you know what? If she doesn't understand it, I certainly never will, either--and that's okay by me.
I don't really have a solution to offer here, just one piece of advice that I'll try to better follow, myself: When you talk to God, do not just talk--speak. Thank Him for the blessings you have in your life, rather than always just asking for additional blessings. Now that's not to say it's not okay to pray for miracles, healing, etc. But you know, just saying.
I'll just end this by saying thank you.
Thank you, Lord--for everything and everyone you've blessed me with in my life.
Thank you, Amanda--for teaching me about faith and Jesus. And faith in Jesus.
You saved me.
...and every time a light flickers, I still think of you. That will never change. Thanks for being my best friend.
Be a light--wherever you are,
Derrick
No idea what's going to come of each keystroke, or if it'll resemble anything coherent, but here goes...
I know I've talked about my best friend Amanda in numerous blogs before, but you know what--why not again?
When I think of Amanda, I think about faith. Amanda Lee Walker taught me more about Jesus in a month, than the rest of the world has taught me in over 24 years. Weird thing is, it's not like we just sat around and gabbed about God, 24/7. But I feel He speaks to me through her--my guardian angel.
I think too many of us (myself included) ask too much of God. We ask Him to send us answers, shower us with gifts, grant us miracles, and so on. Though I, too, am guilty of this--it seems silly to me. Why do we do this?
I think we should open our eyes and realize that in many instances in our lives, God is actually asking us questions. Maybe this seems crazy to you. True, God knows what we will do, and what we will go through...but I also feel that he presents us with opportunities all throughout our days, as if to say: "What do you want to do?" Options, or paths, if you will.
I think that's where free will comes into play. Even Amanda once wrote: "...I gave up trying to understand that whole subject." Well you know what? If she doesn't understand it, I certainly never will, either--and that's okay by me.
I don't really have a solution to offer here, just one piece of advice that I'll try to better follow, myself: When you talk to God, do not just talk--speak. Thank Him for the blessings you have in your life, rather than always just asking for additional blessings. Now that's not to say it's not okay to pray for miracles, healing, etc. But you know, just saying.
I'll just end this by saying thank you.
Thank you, Lord--for everything and everyone you've blessed me with in my life.
Thank you, Amanda--for teaching me about faith and Jesus. And faith in Jesus.
You saved me.
...and every time a light flickers, I still think of you. That will never change. Thanks for being my best friend.
Derrick
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