Maine’s got some pretty wild road signs. Some are odd. Well, odd to anyone who lives above the 45th Paralell.
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Maine’s got some pretty wild road signs. Some are odd. Well, odd to anyone who lives above the 45th Paralell.
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For two years now, I’ve refrained from wishing anyone a happy birthday via Facebook. I just wouldn’t do it. I think birthdays are very special days, and do extend a greeting over Facebook on such an occasion was tacky and impersonal. Besides family, close friends, nobody got a happy birthday from me unless I knew it was your birthday. In which case I’d either see ya or call ya. It was some rebellious thought I had about sincerity and social media.
I’m not going to let Facebook dictate my well wishing. No way. Where do you get off putting everyone’s birthday’s on my calendar? Not my style. Just mindlessly writing a “Happy Birthday” on someone’s wall. Adding a “man” or, “Terry” or some other reference as to how you’re acquainted. Nah. Get lost. Goddamn Facebook birthdays. Continue reading
Andrew Luck admits that when it all boils down to it, the Colts just flat out got beat by the Patriots. But players have asked about it. You’ve thought about it. The NFL has the power to do it. What if…. what if tomorrow, Roger Goodell decides his ruling on the case of the deflated footballs, strolls up to the podium and taps the mike. He looks at his notes, smiles, tosses his notes over his shoulder and says, “You know what guys? Screw it, we’re going to do it over again on Sunday!”
And the crowd goes wild.
That would be the most watched football game in the history of the Western Hemisphere.
It would be unprecedented. Can you remember the last time there was a do-over this epic? Not since the 1972 Olympic Basketball final between the United States and Soviet Union. You know, the Russians get three tries at a buzzer beater and, hey–hey! They win.
But this Colts-Patriots Rodeo this Sunday would be the game of the decade. The Patriots cheat using under-inflated balls in AFC Championship thrashing of Colts, commish says that’s not fair, do it again, Pig Skin Rodeo II, live, Sunday, January 25th, 4:05pm. That’s the best best preliminary name I could think of. Pig Skin Rodeo II. Someone will think of something better, I’m sure.
But the sad truth is that Pig Skin Rodeo II won’t happen. It may or probably may not be the greatest game ever played, but it opens pandora’s box of do-over arguments for the rest of eternity. Penalties, suspensions, anything could be a case for a do-over. So I guess we can stop thinking about it now.
The Patriots will likely get a huge fine, couple draft picks, and Superbowl XLIX rings. But what if Roger Goodell wants to go for the jugular?
Suspend Tom Brady and/or Bill Belichick for one year. Lock those villains up in the Asylum for twelve months, and clean up Gotham, Commish.
The NFL has suspended players and coaches for entire seasons before. Paul Horning for gambling in 1963 for instance, or Sean Payton for Bountygate. If they threw the book the quarterback or the coach, boy that would be a big loss for the Patriots.
We’ll see as the NFL continues to investigate. They have to do something. Isn’t it fun to think of what?

Last night was one of those nights that reminds me why exactly it is I went into the business of covering sports. There’s several reasons, and I’m reminded of them frequently, but last night was one of those nights where the magic was on the court and I’m just glad I was the guy standing on the baseline with the camera and the microphone.
Actually, I didn’t have the microphone. Or a tripod. They were out in the car. I thought about running to get them from the car between the end of regulation and the beginning of overtime of #3 Fort Fairfield’s 67-66 win over #1 Washburn, but I couldn’t forgive myself for turning off the record button at that point. Not after what just happened. Continue reading
For as long as I can remember, the “Ice Bowl” has been the image that comes to mind when I think of unbearable cold. That is until I moved to Northern Maine.
I’m 4/5 of the way through the 1968 best-seller Instant Replay: The Green Bay Diary of Jerry Kramer. The book recounts the entire season in which the Packers would go on to win Superbowl II. I’m just getting to the book’s climax: the 1967 NFL Championship Game between Dallas and Green Bay, also know as the “Ice Bowl.”
I got really lucky when I moved up to Presque Isle. There was an available, affordable apartment for rent that suited all of my needs spatially.
I’d arrived with only the things I could cram into the cab and truck bed of a Ford F-150 truck, which I am eternally grateful to my older brother for allowing me to lease from him for the time I’m in Maine.
But the apartment was empty. I needed and desired a few things to fill up my space and allow me to live efficiently and comfortably. There certainly wasn’t enough money in the bank to go out and purchase all new furnishings, so I had to get creative.
It takes a lot for me to endorse a chain restaurant. I’m the kind of guy who admires independence, embraces local atmospheres, and favors excellent unheralded eateries. A chain has to have something special to get me in the door. Something that separates it from the rest. Something you can’t put on a menu. An intangible.
I’ll give a chain restaurant a fair shake. I’ll dine. You know what I always say, “Hey, I’ll try anything twice.”
So on a crisp fall Saturday I stepped into the Aroostook Center Mall’s Ruby Tuesday’s with the goal of sampling the mozz sticks, watching some football, having a few beers and checking out the joint. Continue reading
“I’m at dinner with Emily and her family, what’s up?” Joe said.
I called my best friend and old roommate Joe Sweeney in an emergency. He didn’t answer. I texted him, “Call me back. It’s important.” So minutes later he finally called back.
I hastily explained the situation and he empathized, agreeing that truly was a dire situation. I could only imagine the scene of him returning to the dinner table and explaining that the emergency phone call he just made was about a Bob Seger T-shirt. But this wasn’t just any old T-shirt. Continue reading
I’d received a lot of journalistic training when I was in school at DePaul. Four good, long, not so hard years of it. I enjoyed my theory and study classes much more than I did my classes in practicum. That’s to be expected for a contemplative person like myself. I’d like to have a pensive understanding of practice before I go out and do something.
But you know, all the preparation in the world can’t train you for some situations. They say the best thing for a young journalist is to sidestep your selected sphere and experience something completely different and new. They say getting out of your comfort zone can give you a new perspective on a particular topic. It can turn apprehension into appreciation. Indifference into understanding, they say.
Well, they’re right.
As someone who’s grown up with the benefit and distraction of cable TV my entire life, it was certainly a change having my television scope being shrunk from hundreds of channels down to only 18. Like most downsizing adjustments in life, there’s multiple obvious unfavorable outcomes, along with underlying advantages that are visible only to those with the proper perspective, and also speak French.
My Time-Warner cable package here in Maine includes 18 channels: the 4 big networks, the CW, PBS, TV Guide Network, 2 French language channels, CBC, 3 religious channels, 3 home shopping channels, 1 infomercial network and a mysterious channel 8 that is never on air. Continue reading