Perfect Memory

The Fuquay-Varina Middle School Football team just completed its first perfect season in almost 30 years! 

Letting Grant play football was a parenting challenge for us. He never played on a youth team. He might be tall, but he is skinny. His hand-eye coordination is average at best. However, last year he made his case and we agreed to let him play.  

Last year he didn't play much - for all of the reasons listed above. However, this year, as a 8th Grader, Grant got more playing time. Grant usually played on Special Teams and once an a while as a Receiver.  Knowing my son as I do, I could detect the ever so slight hesitation in him running into someone at full speed and hurling his body into them.  Grant was an average player but a great teammate.  He always supported his team and fellow players and even earned the coveted postion of "Bus DJ" with his tune selection.

Grant knows that his future probably does not include football and will very likely involve running.  Grant is a very good runner.  However, for two years he was football player.  I love that for him.

There is so much I cannot remember from Middle School. My memories are of dances at the Middle School, realizing that girls exist, and  that awkward time of adolescence.  I certainly didn't participate in sports aside from Little League Baseball - and I wasn't good at it at all.  

I hope that Grant holds on to this memory. Years from now, I hope he remember that year, way back in 2024, when they opened the new Fuquay-Varina Middle School and he was one of the first students to walk the halls and his coached worked the team hard to go 7W-0L.  

Go Bengals!
 

PR for the Win

TJ's High School Cross Country career is almost over, but not before setting an incredible PR that set a new Willow Spring School record but most likely also propelled the team to win the Conference Championship!

TJ always has a solid performance when he runs. Compared to you and me, he is astoundingly fast. Compared to his peers, he is in the top 10-20 of the runners in his meets. As good as he is, TJ is not overly competitive. He has been caught several times, chatting with his rivals, catching up on what they did over summer break, or even encouraging them to run up that Wake med hill.  He knows this about himself. His coach knows. His parents know. It is frustrating because he does not push himself to reach his maximum potential.  

And then, once in a while, he lets all that go and does the incredible.  The greater Neuse River Conference meet was at Wake Med Soccer Park. It is a course TJ knows well.  Down the hill, through the woods, back up the hill, around the park and into the woods again, and finish up that hill! My advice to TJ is the always the same, go out fast, find your pace, and finish strong. Yesterday was no different.

I try to work around work and go to TJ's senior year events. Work does not need me to sit in front of screen as much as my son needs to see that his dad cares to see him compete.  Lisa is almost always there.

TJ started his race and went out strong. Lisa moved to the bottom of the hill and I positioned myself at the halfway point. As he came up the hill at the one-mile mark he was in the first three runners and looked good. His other teammates, the ones who are usually ahead of him, were a good 30 seconds behind. I thought there was no way he could maintain for another two miles. Right?!

There is about 10 minutes between the first run up the hill and the second run up the hill to the finish line. With shouts of "here they come," the runners came out of the woods and TJ was still in the top three and shoulder to shoulder with another runner. My excitement was bursting, and I screamed for him to push the hill. I looked at my stopwatch as I watched him head to the finish line. I couldn't see the finish line, but I could guestimate - and I hit the red STOP button.  It read 16:36. 

I ran to the finish area. TJ was on the ground as most runners are after 3.1 miles at their top speed. I helped him up and hugged him. I told him his time. He couldn't believe it. Neither could I. He was almost 30 seconds faster than his best time. His time was faster than is buddy, Jack, ever ran for the school. 

TJ set the Willow Spring High School Cross Country record.  

The next ten minutes were filled with joy, incredulity (literally a Holy $hit moment), and cheers. Lisa came up the hill and hugged TJ. His teammates were blown away by his time.  The Willow Spring Athletic Director high fived TJ.  TJ was having his best day ever.

I am not entirely sure how scoring works, but I am pretty sure that his finish put the boys' team into First Place for the first every Conference win and a new trophy for the case at the school. At least that's the story we will tell.

The Dog is Going to Get Spoiled

Twenty years ago, I loaded my gear, boarded a C-17, and several hours later found myself in the middle of Baghdad, Iraq for what would be a long year at the start of the Iraqi Civil War. That first deployment would mark a major change in my military career and my life.  Sometimes it seems like not that long ago. I can still feel the heat of the end of the Iraqi summer. I can still smell the fetid open sewage and rotting trash.  I can still hear the "whump" of mortars coming into the base.  Then I remember that in those twenty years, both my parents passed, I got married, had two wonderful boys, watched Sam get married, and I retired from the Army!  It's then when I realize that 2004 was a long time ago.

2004 was so long ago that Samantha grew up, went to school, and became an Army officer - among other things. Being the father and retired "Senior Army Leader" of a young officer, I have to walk the line between sympathetic listener and dispenser of sage advice.  

Shortly after Sam and Mitch got married, they announced that they were buying a dog. A puppy to be exact. A Golden Retriever puppy. A whole $2400 worth of puppy. Prior to getting the dog I dispensed my fatherly advice, "Now is not the time to get a dog. You are both very busy with your careers and the Army could send you both away at the same time." I followed up with, "I am not watching the dog if you get deployed."

 

Do. Not. Get. A. Dog.

So now, of course, the fucking dog is our guest for the next three months because both Sam and Mitch are away from their home for extended military duties.  

Yes, Sam is deployed in the Middle East. Twenty years after I deployed, she is now living the life that I remember so well.  Sam tried describing her base to me.  I stopped her and said I could describe it to a T without ever having been there. T-Walls? Check.  Generators droning somewhere nearby? Check. Container Housing? Yep. Sunshades, connexes, gravel parking lots, NTVs? Got 'em all. Sam is away learning how other places in the world work through the lens of military operations.

Buoy is a very well trained, two-year-old Golden. She is a big, clutzy dog that laps up water everywhere when she drinks, comes bounding into rooms with reckless abandon, and pulls on her leash. She plays with her toys and somehow shoves them farther under the couch than she can reach. She knows shen you are eating something and will sit at your feet and stare. I call her 78lbs of dumb and 2lbs of super smart. She brings an energy to the house that our ten-year-old dog, Lucie, does not have.  

Samantha, being who she is, sent Buoy with operating instructions. Two pages of when to walk the dog, how far to walk the dog, training commands, plus all of the feeding and veterinary information.  

 

Now are lives are filled with a temporary addition that seems like grandparent training. I don't follow the instructions, I spoil the dog with table scraps, and let her bark when Lucie barks.  I think of it as giving a grandchild a chocolate cookie and Coke after 7pm before returning the toddler to the parents. And, you know, that's what you get for not following dad's sound advice. 

 

Woof!