Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Zip Line. Chucky P.



If you listen you can hear me scream "allah!" as I take the plunge juicy fruit style. Sing the song in your head if you know it and the taste (fleeting at best) moves ya. This was Sat. And it was overcast, October, down right cold, but never let the weather get in the way of some good footage! Rusty had manufactured this zip line many moons since dimmed and the wooden planks to climb and stand on were rotten at best. The rusty nails and murky corrsosion made me think I was an envelope pusher. And I didn't throw on a face mask and let those assholes shoot paint balls at me like Remy did on the follow up.

And this was next to an old abandon schoolhouse from the turn of the century that made me think of the Outsiders, the burning schools, not letting those kids burned to death, greasers, yup, they can be hero's too. Not to mention the swing on the My Girl tree, all in all it was quite a weekend. We had a man down, flown in from a bashful city in the middle of a full blown crisis. And the early silver lining was how quickly the family responds into action. The flower farm whose coordinates will remain secretive like Asain wrestelers whereabout's in the 80's, is our thing our Camp David.

I shot a 12 Gage with Buskwick on the headphones, watched Russ shoot a baby deer, on a moving vehicle with a rifle, drinking beers at night, and then watched in horror as he legends of the falled it, jumping out of his 4 wheel Gator (make that dam gator move boy!) and pulled out what appeared to be a serated war knife from Rambo's first blood. He tracked down that dam hobbled Doe and slit it's throat right there and dam gutted that bucks offspring, whoo wee! We had it grilled or roasted come to think about it Sunday in a sandwich format for lunch.

And paint ball, duck hunting, flower immersion, fork lifts and of course zip lines my friends made for unicorns. The country side while maybe not for a smooth talking mobster such as Charlie paradise certainly holds something for everyone at some point, it's cathartic. We saw the stars and I casually remarked in a deep country slang @ a cookout Sat afternoon, 'all of America used to look like this.' What a true statement, time, time, time, why don't I rock a CLOCK AROUND MY NECK?

And I was falling in love all until a polical conversation with the hicks sprang up, a couple N bombs later and I was yearning for city life. All in all it's a place of healing like Merz Apothecary. We pray for our boy and I wanted to post some footage from our farm weekend with the boys. SEE BELOW VIDEO'S WHEN DONE READING. Stay tuned tomorrow when Gorriladunkdaily blows the doors off of what really happened the day JFK was shot in 1963, who was responsible and why. I know, crazy. And thanks to sneak previews at the Nat Geo headquarters and thanks to the miracle of film restoration into High Definition we've unlocked the greatest crime of the 20th century. Yes, it's without saying amazing, left me straight flabbergasted and I spent much of last night in the research tank putting it together, just another day at GDD minus the A, that's what we do, yeah we do it for you, it's the mutha fucken re-tar crew.

Happy Tuesday, if your cold calling, get 3 QFY'sm excuse my while I kiss the picture of the sky on my cubicle, holla.

GorillaDunkDaily - Where the past is unraveled and the future happens now.
CP

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Book 1. Legendes. Back Cover (Outcry. The sequel)

Legendes.

Follows the story of a dysfunctional child (Carl E. Easton) whose early brush with hyperactive death first occurred at the hands of a John Deere riding tractor lawnmower. This haunting accident occurred two days after his seventh birthday. His survival triggered the families agitation of the “gateway to Cape Cod‘s” gravel back to his fathers childhood hometown, Lexington MA.

On it’s surface, Lexington was the epitome of picturesque. A colonial masterpiece rich with historical significance and wealth covered a darker canvas of teenagers striving to be what older kids in town referred to as a legend. And from the very first time he heard this term, at his second home, the Hayden recreation center, this is all he ever wanted to be. The flip side of perfect was a dark world an aspiring legend would have to navigate full of loss and horror.



Legendes is ...
The story of a 1st generation “spaz” whose first brush with celebrity was surviving a haunting John Deer riding lawnmower tragedy two days before his seventh birthday on the “Gateway to Cape Cod.” It was in the intensive care unit at Children’s hospital in downtown Boston he’d first meet Larry Bird in 1983 which would foreshadow his own hoop dreams to come.

The accident triggered the families monumental move back to his fathers hometown and birth place of the American revolution, Astori MA. A town of seduction and mystery where tragedy occurred with a surreal celerity tucked neatly underneath an airbrushed colonial canvas of an American Paradox. A young Carl E. Easton would soon be thrown into a high flying social system it became his mission to over throw or self destruct. Left with a mother battling an acute depression, a prescription of Ritalin and a sister whose own daring of death belied a talented figure skating star which had covered up their fathers departure and the cancerous elements it furtively invited

Now unabated and fueled by ADHD, a longing for the 80’s, pills, panic and prosperity a school systems nightmare kids called Dream. Once in high school he senses grave inequalities, adopts a black persona honing his understanding of ghetto hustle against Camelot conspiracy’s thanks to the towns METCO program. A program designed to help inner city students receive a quality education became an unintended platform to capture his true high school diploma with honors. Pushing an unorthodox envelope under the simple mantra of “deny, deny, deny” and “I don’t give a fuck” his ambition and chimerical sense soon founded a gang of dysfunctional freshmen friends that proved a family / necessary army in his quest to change it all. He’d find the family

With unforgettable characters bridging worlds too seldom linked in our modern USDA, universal truths simply not taught lead into unique situations that are hilarious as they are heartbreaking. In the end one son of liberty with a family down on their luck created his own book in a town of legend.
A dysfunctional memoir of the classic “dreamer” this unique and modern true life tale ripped from the early 1990’s, takes on the timeless topic of coming of age with courage, wit and candor. From every corner of American pop culture, storied success and epic failures, the simple quest of graduating from public high school has never seemed so daunting.

Monday, October 17, 2011

WTDB (For Bergy)



Bergy Teaser take #1, LA, Lexington

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

I will always love you. December 1st, 1992

Here we go again…
I Will Always Love You
December 1st, 1992


The 1st day of practice Junior Year: (The Wonder Years)

It all came down to this. Varsity selection, this precious next five-minute span would define for me, Magic, and Goldy our life long mental stability. I played varsity for half the year last season but that was last year and you never knew. It was a big honor to play varsity for almost three years. I almost cried right there thinking about that, my smiling mother my hope my pride and my sister, my proud father.

Maybe it’s not that bad

Finally something to really root for me outside of the bare basics, these would be my mother’s nightly prayers, she prayed for all of us, YG included without a doubt, nightly basis.


Ace is going well, I feel good. I’ve grown and ate and slept this shit since jump. I’m the best defender in the gym, well, outside of Kevin Nolen

Terrance standing next to me elbow nudges. Hides the smile like he thinks we’ll both be in that circle momentarily. The logic of it all calmed me as I tried to name all the people I knew whose name begun with the letter C. And even though I felt good about ACE and getting to spend time with Coach Sullivan and the Big Guy, this was all business. The best thing I had going for me was that I stayed out of trouble all fall.



My heart beat frantically screaming, “gotta pick me yo gotta pick me yo gotta pick me! Chris, Carly, Carl, Carey, Clyde, Cliff, Costello, Claus on the Santa tip, Charlie…” It was three o'clock after school and my stomach was shaking with real life butterflies tickling my heart rate to jump!

On a brighter note I was pimped out in the new line of LHS practice gear. My socks, as always, were immaculate and folded over twice like Jordan's. Elastic bands curled my wrists with a stick of Juicy Fruit gum munching against my braceless choppers.

Yo if you look fly inherently your performance follows suit

During the mid eighties a very cool t-shirt was given to the varsity. To us it would, through the passage of years, become a collector’s item. It was navy blue with an actual revolutionary Lexington Minuteman standing in a defensive stance with a musket over his shoulders. Standing right in the middle of the town's historic green the caption beneath read “Lexington, where the defense began." The Big Guy like 1776 predicates his landscape on defense. Only Rashad, Kevin and Darren were standing in the middle of the court, within the “I'm on the team” players nest behind the Big Guy.


We had lost that many seniors that the rest of the team outside of these three is up in the air. It’s why we were barely ranked pre-season in the top twenty after appearing in the semi finals last year one game short of the Boston Garden at UMASS Boston in front of a five-thousand people. Slowly the Big Guy paTROLLED back and forth eyeing effusively the many players that had waited their whole lives for this one defining moment. That moment only to be accepted into the sacred culture of Lexington varsity basketball under the astounding tutelage of the Big Guy, Rollie, Stan, fall river and hoop. The Big Guy takes his time. He knew we were squirming and you know what? He loved it. I loved it. The first step in his process. A guaranteed winner I would have taken my time as well. Our new vertical addition Stretch was the first to be plucked from the lines of normalcy. The Big Guy in his dark monotone would point an additional tiny upward yank of the head and you're in. The Big Guy loved to hear himself speak almost as much as me. I had learned that in the ACE program despite my inclinations I loved it. I was content for the first time. However in a moment like this we had little to say. Santo greets Stretch as the only Young Gun pre-programmed behind the Big Guy due to his year status on varsity last year. Next John “Wellsy” Wells as chosen followed by freshmen Brek Kohler.
Now I’m starting to bug,
Yo don't make me look like a punk please Jesus hello? Fucking just be cool and take me next. I'm nasty and it shouldn't be that hard of a decision besides dude, I've been in your program all fall, just take me, Jesus where you at?!

“Cahl” he was all business and looking directly into my eyes. All time calms and washes over me. On this day the Big Guy would not disappoint the kid. He shot me the nod and I coolly stepped towards the crow’s nest and gave soft pounds to my newfound varsity teammates. Saying what's up to Rashad on the court felt like Tim Hardaway. Fudge’s younger brother we should have called him Nestles Dark.

Rashad was the favorite to win league MVP and perhaps player of the year as he had a year prior.

Rashad had white veins ripping through his black shoulders. People get these stretch marks when their muscles rip themselves apart so much from there own accord that actual scars appear on the surface of the skin. If you see a brother with stretch marks (white dudes cant get that shit) then you know that brother is a ripped SOB. Spec was selected and so was Magic but not before the Big Guy, in a not so fast political power play, placed Magic on JV.

I watched Magic, astonished, walk over to that chump JV sideline towards Coach Gibbs. “this is bullshit.” I read his lips. Coach Gibb’s agreed. I kind of laughed internally, instinctively, the ever favorite, ‘glad that wasn’t me” percolated a brewery of security within my sphere.

Now that I had made the team I could immediately begin making fun of the players that didn‘t, it was like virginity. Better be quick because ten minutes later Magic was placed on the team. My next big concern even before our first tap drill, was how much press would I get in Thursday musket when they ran the Astori High Scool boys basketball preview. Growing up my favorite part of every season was reading the Minetmen's preview of the team. The first practice was a success. I thought we were tough.

That Thursday the Musket was released including the annual basketball preview to be mulled over by me, my sister my Mom, players, their parents and fans. After reading the preview we all had a moment. I got some ink as did a few YG, Santo got his picture in the paper running suicides in argyle socks. That was big.

I couldn’t believe it, the paper said I was going to be receiving a significant boost to my varsity minutes as the primary spell for Kevin off the bench. Santo would start, Stretch would start, Wellsy would start, Goldy, Magic, myself would compete for minutes, Terrance was also on the team. A moment of clarity again as it appeared that my mother knows what I've been planning this whole time (click). She read about my friends and finally (I think) looks like she understands why we beat each other up like we do without ever coming up for air. Not because we hated each other, but because we just wanted to be better at basketball. No one wanted to be the guy that cost us our state title. That was our thing. All of those little-league games we spit in each other's mugs. All those games on the weekends when we’d come home crying and bloody cursing our best dawgs, we had a legacy of success to follow. And that included pushing.
Santo, the lucky dawg, got his picture on the cover of the paper practicing in argyle socks.
This prompted the Big Guy the next day in ACE reviewing the article and photo to bellow, “Yo who the heck is going to practice in socks like those?” and then a five second pause on account of bafflement before rekindling his voice and finishing his statement, “what a joke.” The Young Guns getting press.


Of course with the Big Guy it was always an on going commentary, “Carl it looks like you and your girlfriends are all the same, idiots. We’re going to have a good season if this center’s any good. Eh anytime I bring up your name anywhere it gets this big reaction, and I’m not saying that’s good, why is that?”
“I don’t know” I reply astonished
“Yeah well you better figure it out. You don’t smoke banana’s do you?”
“No”
“Good your already a bananna you don't want double.”
And just like that it was on. Make no mistake about it our time was upon us, I felt like a chosen soldier. Coach Sullivan thought we’d be OK, we were 20-2 the year before. And everyone was curious about our new center Stretch, was he a big time player or all hype? Basketball players from other parts were forever overhyped when arriving at your typical high school.

My mother helped me focus during the season. Dana was my cheerleader, she had to, it was her senior year our last year in school together. Our first game was Tuesday and it was a monster. We had faired well in our Jambori, an elite invitation with Cambridge Rindge & Latin, Durfee, New Bedford, Salem and us. The most sought after Jambori in the state. I guarded Michael Edwards straight up, or so my father felt, I picked him once, my dad couldn’t believe it. Michael Edwards was a division one product, his brother scored the most points in the history of MIA MASS basketball. His brother went to Boston College on a full ride, played BABC. It gave me confidence and that’s why the Big guy always loved to play the best.
“One way or the other we’ll know what we got.” He’d say.

In the follow up game we watched Chris Herren in all his Fall River legend.


Our first game was a week away and it was a big one, a headliner on the road against Belmont. They were favored to win the league and ranked highly in the Boston Globe’s top 320. It was on the road and we weren’t sure what we had, this would let us know.

Yo I fucken love this shit

It was basketball season, this was everything, YG will play heavily into the success or not of this team. This had become a bit of a rivalry even though Lexington had dominated the league for every decade. Consequently both of the city majors the Globe, Herald along with assorted local publications came to cover it. We limped in with assorted question marks twined and feathered to much lower then usual expectations. A first game rout of the rebuilding dynasty would set the tone for the league, conference and finally the state. Understanding the hype and the story line I prayed only to see some action. Beyond the reporters, blow jobs, slinky web of stardom, scholarships and glory was my little script that one knew about. My legendary pursuit and movie in the making I wasn’t scared and was coming off a great nights rest.


The Boston Globe reluctantly placed us in the top twenty; we were still Lexington and we still had Rashad. But Kevin was a question mark, Stretch was a question mark, Santo starting, Wellsy an inexperienced bench. The league knew very little from us and to the naked eye our lack of exposure and scrony bodies deflated any expectation especially after last season, what a year.

This year might be the start of a bigger correction i.e. a piece of the time frame regarded as a down time in the impeccable annals of Astori basketball history.

The Big Guy even admitted in the high school paper, The Musket, that he had no idea what to expect

Keebs Peek



I' AM LEXINGTON - take 9. Rollie intro #3

Monday, October 10, 2011

I knew it was a scam!



My favorite clip of the Big Guy and me. Great quote, this was still a point in the season where Coach was still trying to figure out what the heck the movie was about. The smokey voice we do at the end is in reference to an old student in the ACE program, Doug Renna. Now when I was placed in the ACE program was being crazy, Doug had just come back to try and earn high high school degree, he was 23.

He was an east Lexington, blue collar kid that had dropped out of high school for the grease market dollars only to return years later to finish what he'd given up on back in the 80's. He was forever telling me top stay in school and warning me of the many trappings he found in the world but hadn't thought about at sixteen. He'd tell me that $225 a week seemed like he was rich at 16 only to discover 5 years later without benefits and or a meaningful chance to earn more he'd made a mistake. He was like our elder statesmen in ACE, up there, back then everyone had a story.

He drove to school typically was the flagship driver that Coach Farias selected every morning on the fabled ACE doughnut run, we had some good times up in a ACE. A great story for us was later that year in 1993, Doug attended his 5th year high school re-union while still a member of the ace program officially still enrolled in high school. For only in the ACE program could you find a kid attending his 5th year high school re-union, still in high school. Doug told us the next year he simply told people he was still in school, and people must've thought it was chasing an associates or bachelors degree.

Also we get Sammy talking about the BBQ steak sandwich at Jimmy's, he brings this up a dozen times throughout the season. Also we answer a few questions to senior Matt Cuhna about where we grew up in town and what schools we attended almost fifteen years ago. For seniors, starts and life long best friends, Matt, TH, and Sean Sullivan, their parents like both Keebs and my father had also grown up in Lexington, so their were deep roots at play for this entire project.

I love being able back then, then and now to always be able to hug or put my arm around the Big Guy, the ACE program and my time spent up there had added another layer to a long life relationship. And since for years everything out of my camp as a kid was a scam, the Big Guy was watching, but in the end he'd green lighted it anyway because he knew I'd come along way and B) my heart was in the right place. It's just funny for us because we remember the fight of the day and every savvy move and discipline we put in place to deliver the miracle of my high school graduation.

Ace was tough back then, the high school as it was in the 70's, 80's until 1994, the year of my graduation ended another era like the one we've captured in our on going hoops post production. The Big Guy was tough, Fall River was a tough city that boasted the states finest basketball program. Lexington changed so much over the course of a decade, money got newer, bigger, newer, bigger, it became a place devoid of tough kids, it's all about trophy kids, no one fails, meetings and being in fear of your own spoiled (1% wealth) kids. And through that fear the athletic department overhauled the entire coaching fleet of the big three, #1 football which they correctly should not even play in Lexington anymore, #2 hockey and of course the big one, the Big Guy and mighty Lexington basketball program.

One day we will win, and we will bring back Coach Sullivan and get this thing right. However the word is out on crazy Lexington sadly the AD that pushed these changes and found the backing will probably leave that opposition to climb the corporate I mean academic latter for better salary and benefits having no idea the effect cause changed. Anyway had to post this on the heels of losing my running experiment, at 30 years old could I still run a pair of 28's on the suicide tip? Would my nightmares of basketball, Santo, Stretch, my sisters accident and my gambling business and our 13-5 senior season finally be put to rest? Before we lost Santo we like these chaps had one goal, state title. My Lexington basketball dreams were everything until they were nothing. Our dreams died on April 2nd, 1993 with Santo and were further crashed when our 6-8 possible MVP on the league scholarship center Stretch went down on the first play of the first day of practice. I'd been suspended for the week by the Big Guy for school trouble and my sister that night had been in a horrific accident that was later described as a suicide attempt.

Man that was a tough year, and we saw allot, lost allot and eventually through life conquered our demons for the most part. Those were tough years and the Big Guy through the foundation that basketball provided the work ethic and understanding of what it takes allowed me to get loose on the corporate as I got older. I failed my run in this post clip from the practice in which I disgraced myself conditioning, but also you see real love between a former player, pyhscopath (according to the MANY at the time) and coach, really at that point straight pals. I love that Big Guy and have a compelling story and more motivation than you could believe to see, steer this thing through. Where the defense began.... stay up - GDD still attuned to hoops soley right now, dam

Sunday, October 09, 2011

Rollie Mix - #1 - WTDB (Where The Defense Began)



As promised my first mash up of multi-games / episodes. This is a nice primer to give the audience out there and my local GDD following a glimpse of some of the stuff you can expect in full production. It's again just a start, I have another three or four of these to post up before it starts to really go down.

So much to pull from - anyway Happy Sunday! Amanda Kn0x enjoy the Seahawks game today home free, and go Patriot's, crash the jets, yeah i said it.

Saturday, October 08, 2011

Gorilla Saturday - We Must Leave Them Cheering

The most important day of the season is today, practice makes permanent, if you want to fly with the eagles you can’t walk with the Turkey’s. Help and recover, take the charge, hold your ground, do not fire unless fired upon.
Bail out a teammate, balance your life outside of basketball and basketball can flourish. Hard work after all it all boils down to 1 question, do you want to be a player?
If the answer is yes, you can be, hard work is the answer and in sports wealth and color is not a factor. And that what’s amazing to me. Only through sports can we find a demolition of mobility ceilings related to stereotypes and racism. Winning trumps everything, so I ask myself, scratching my head curios how that doesn’t transcend into corporate America. Is the ability to play basketball that much different than the demands of corporate America? Are gifted athletes just dumb, never studied and ill equipped to handle a meaningful purpose in America’s corporate landscape?

I think if you work hard and our given the right opportunity anything is possible. I think having the right job is more important than the right school. And if it’s a great place, great connects, team and history than that is life. And those gifts, which will forever be thrown out, our guarded much closer than a free ride to your favorite ala mater. Hard work pays off in sports and very rarely does it pay anymore in our new American cultural reality. If hard work really paid off in American the descendants of the slaves would be the Carnegies and the Rockefellers. I myself concluded this week that I can drop everything creative in my life, dreams deferred thinking of rivers, a white boy and focus solely in money.

Not only the hard work necessary to even think about making more money weekly for myself and my boss but the laws, loopholes, licenses and potential breaks I might find looking to run a shop of my own. And it’s all out there for those who bother, look right and can play the part, still. You do whatever it takes to become compliant and get the licensing. Once you get people working for you, you never do another real days work again. And it’s alarming yet pales into comparison to the idiot’s on Wall St who have taken the grand casino way too far, and this is post 1980’s, unbelievable.

And that is another reason why the great divide, the ever-shrinking middle class has become disenfranchised. For many in America life couldn’t get better. We all love to pretend we know and accessorize with the famed 1%, a dream world to many reality to a few. And nowhere is the correlation of hard and mega money more apparent with proprietary trading on Wall St. And the answer from the right can’t be the flip flop universal answer to everything ala Gorge W the second round against John Kerry. In this case the answer is, add s liquidity to the market, to explain any new product you guys create out of thin air to trade and confuse. For those of you not familiar with how a new product like the Mini S & P contract for example which was introduced when I was on the floor in Chicago or credit default swaps let me explain the golden underlying principal of what a regulatory agency we’d see in the chapter on this topic. There has to be a clear and underlying economic justification for it. And this is right out of the CFTC, the commodities exchanges in Chicago which introduced futures hundreds of years ago to trade corn, wheat and soybeans and ultimately protect our nations food supply has become lost in translation. Leo Malemed, a Chicago president of the exchange and trading legend soon introduced futures trading on currencies and soon indexes and one day everything else in sight. And overnight one little exchange in Chi became a billion dollar pricing house for the world at large, pre-internet, changed the game.
It adds liquidity to the Market anyway is the slogan not once but always heard when you ask, Why do we have a mini Dow Futures pit next to a Dow Futures pit. “It adds liquidity to the market son.” Said trader would say proudly working from 915AM -1:15PM everyday thinking he’s doing a huge service to his country. And that’s what happens too, people tend to believe their own bullshit a lot more when easy money and the right set up is at your feet. Anyway the argument is that more liquidity is good for investors because of the ease to get in and out of additional financial mechanisms that in theory your money manager uses to protect and grow your finances.

A stock broker in the 1940’s for example who still had the same life and benefits of a rigged game would say, “this is all wrong” / fucking crazy if he no she (40’s) had a glimpse in to today’s trading world. He’d probably run and hide freaked out at the growth of China alone, note to everyone, stay away from the Chinese once that bubble pops. They will be angry and they will crack down and we’ll be reminded of Chinas true identity. Right now its being cloaked by the sirens of greed and western wont and delusion.
Because we know money managers are like college football programs. If you win big there is going to be an investigation because in today’s world of high finance, just like, in the 80’s and of course big time collegiate sports, you can’t not cheat and win big.
And that’s the message, following a bull market watch the indictments come down, and it takes years to unravel the layers that time, time and again had added to the complexity from bowing to lobby money and pressure for the elite to never quite re-write the rules of how are biggest banks earn the majority of their profits. I always wondered holding a deck of tickets like a winning lottery ticket in CBOT, who actually invested in corn? I mean the pit was hopping somebody, right? But the truth is your hedge funds managers that you pay big bucks too probably have you invested in Apple, jumping in and out on the guidance of paid informants called , (drum roll please) specialists. I’m a specialist myself so I guess that makes sense. Last week I was a consultant, this week I’m going Charlie Paradise in real time and calling him, director, what!
And what to do? At this point, I can think of only one remaining avenue, occupy Wall St. I love to see the people shit, I used to laugh at it, thinking I was 1% but never was but who wouldn’t want to pretend that? After all pretend was a big part of my early survival, general hospital at 3. Limit lobby money, which will never happen as W’s biggest legacy would’ve been transforming the supreme court. And for all of these off the beaten path reasoning I contend not to pretend just portend sports namely basketball to be the greatest game in American life. If you know what it takes and pay the price you can. I remember an unnamed basketball legend from the 80’s working at a law firm Magic and I had a part time summer gig at. We couldn’t believe he worked in the mail room, he was a hero of ours and it made our day. I told my father he did the IT work there and the next day, the former legend that had worked there for a couple years was being hounded by partners to please play for their basketball team. And it really got me down thinking about that on the way back to fairytale Lexington, my town.
And what a drag it is getting old, or a privilege depending on your past sacrifice good luck or luck there of again depends on your angle. What I do know is that it’s a beatiufl fall day, and I’ll always love my country. I’m today, for sure, posting my latest mix up, the team has come back into the fold as well from all directions proving once again the solid foundation that has to be under your dreams in the clouds if your ever seek to mix everything and anything. And coach Farias, my dearest big guy, I wasn’t his best or even favorite player, top ten, 20, 30 or a hundred. But I was his favorite ACE student of all time sitting high alone in a class by myself. And that’s important to me, and with the help of all of you, this thing get’s done and we move onto the next of which thankfully we’re back- logged.
My favorite part of the Justin Hartwig project for my sister was 12 games into his third season I was filming the tailgate (my favorite part of Wig’s 3 years on camera in the NFL, filming the different tailgates) in the pouring rain with a light and everything but not the camera on. The red light meant it was on, OK, Dana lost it, tears started flowing down her face and she couldn’t calm down as the Steelers prepared to take on our new England patriot’s in Foxborough. That year I rooted for the Steelers, this was impossible to explain to Coach Sullivan or anyone really back home that day, week and year. But I hope this film would make a point, represent a legacy and rich history and give another round of thought to the circumstances surrounding his removal as head coach. But above that it’s also a love letter to my favorite teacher.
And the world around us has changed so quickly in the last five years, and old friends long ago removed a changing playing field. Coach Sullivan was joking about all I had seen during my time in the ACE program years ago, and I don’t think he understood when I said everything I needed to learn, I learned in the ACE program between 1992-94. But I learned the adult side of the game, mostly through watching coach Farias conduct life and run his team and program high above our basketball locker room of juvenile delinquents. I learned the secret to comedy and had an endless and qualified adult audience of coaches to constantly test, tweak and improve my act. Coach farias’s support of me academically took the spotlight off of me enough within the confides and protection of ace and the Big Guy. I was enabled to slip out of high school in four years on time. All until years later vice principals would fondly remember me as not that bad at all, a great kid and I’d listen as they talked discerningly about how much worse things and kids are these days.
Stay tuned for today’s mix up and mash, project will slow to viewers ere as we Ram up, store and mix, the streaming in posting takes on more time as different cameras, clips, and what not merge to life. This was an enormous project that we took on because through Lexington basketball and our own launch pads of life and personalities we knew dreams enough to make them possible. I hope the Big Guy can help out the Woburn Tanners this winter at practice and on the sideline. Rollie Mix #1, soon on the way like bills to pay.

Tuesday, October 04, 2011

A Miscarriage of Justice From The BattleGreen + a letter from the Super Intendant

Please read below. I know GDD readers have expressed some action regarding actually blogging again. But first I have a legacy to protect and a gross miscarriage of justice to spotlight. Please read below from a couple of years back. The next sequence I post should hammer home the lack of tact, protocol and timing on behalf of the LHS athletic department. We lost 1....... And for the record Burlington beat Lexington for the first time (twice) last season for the first time in 20 years... The Wussification of America is real, and Lexington is ground zero as the towns pockets swell with money and over anxious parents.


Hello Friends of Lexington High School Basketball, LHS Students, LHS Graduates & People of Lexington:

Coach Bob Farias was told that his contract would not be renewed for next year by the new Lexington Athletic Director (A.D.) and the current LHS Principal and this forced him to resign. The LHS Principal and LHS A.D. forced out the Boys Varsity Hockey Coach John Coughlin (LHS Class of 1981) within last 2 weeks, and now they force out Coach Farias - the best Basketball Coach Lexington has ever had. The people of Lexington should not take this and should demand that the School Committee, Superintendent of Schools, LHS Principal and Athletic Director apologize to Coach Farias for this poor decision, and reappoint him immediately. Coach Farias and his family have recently been devestated by the loss of a beloved Grandson to cancer - Matty was just 5 yrs. old. This has devestated the family emotionally and financially. How does Lexington respond to this? By listening to a a few vocal parents complaining about the Coach's sideline demeanor and removing him from his job. I wonder how the complaining parents would handle the heartache and stress of losing a child that they cared for 5 days a week in their homes? People of Lexington, please demand that your school leadership do the right thing - reappoint Coach Farias with a multiple year contract, let him choose when he really wants to retire, let him recommend who he thinks should replace him (LHS Grad Tom Brincklow Class of 1988 or LHS Grad Tom Sullivan Class of 1978). Also, lets all thank Coach Bob Farias for all he has done for the youth of Lexington and their families as a teacher for many decades at Adams Elementary School, and Lexington High School ACE Program, and as a Basketball Coach that helped former Villanova Coach Rollie Massimino & Former Boys Varsity Coach Stan Boynton for 7 years as Asst. Coach and they won the State Championship in the 70's with Ronnie Lee. Coach Farias then took over the Basketball program and won another State title in 1978. Lexington Boys Varsity & JV Basketball has dominated the Middlesex League for 34 years winning numerous titles & MIAA Tournament births. Coach Farias has helped to fill the LHS gym with thousands of paying fans for over four decades for some of the most exciting and memorable LHS Athletic games. Additionally, thanks to Coach Farias and his staff hundereds of Lexington Boys Basketball Players have went on play college basketball on scholarships and lucrative financial aid packages to elite academeic schools at NCAA Division 1, Division 2 & Division 3 colleges (recent examples Lew Finnegan Caly Poly/Bentley University, Mark MacDonald Brown, James O'Keefe Bates, Dan O'Keefe Bentley University, Ross Dilegro Syracuse, Dane Dilegro UNH & Danny Lawson Bentley University and countless others). On April 19, 1775 The Lexington Minuteman stood up on the Battlegreen against injustice and great odds - we need to do the same thing here for Coach Farias. All those who love Lexington High School, Lexington Basketball, Lexington Athletics and the town itself should stand up now and contact the School Committee, and School Superintendent and demand Coach Farias be restored to his beloved position immediately.

SUPERINTENDENT OF SCHOOLS
Paul B. Ash, Ph. D., Superintendent (781) 861-2550, ext. 212
e-mail: pash@sch.ci.lexington.ma.us
ADMINISTRATION OFFICE
146 Maple Street, Lexington, MA 02420
LEXINGTON SCHOOL COMMITTEE MEMBERS

To Contact the Schools Committee:
Mail for the School Committee may be sent to:
Lexington School Committee, Lexington Public Schools, 146 Maple Street, Lexington, MA 02420
E-mail may be sent to: school-com@comet.ci.lexington.ma.us




Read more: Farias resigns from basketball coaching position - Lexington, MA - Lexington Minuteman http://www.wickedlocal.com/lexington/archive/x884190134/Farias-resigns-from-basketball-coaching-position#ixzz1ZonIHbii

Saturday, October 01, 2011

The Legend of Ron Lee

SUNS: Picture Perfect With Ron Lee

(click Suns link above for full article)

The unquestioned best to ever come out of Lexington basketball. And looking at his mural hung high on Crenshaw Ave as we used to call it in 1993 had us all hoop dreaming which had already ben happening since a very young age. The Kamakazee kid - defense wins sportsmanship trumps and there will never be another substitute for wanting it more than the other guy.

This guy was the murel.