Cleveland Sports Forum

Good wishes, Donna! You are a super daughter to be around to watch over and assist your parents, as needed.

I went to a seminar this past Saturday that was primarily focused on Parkinson's. There is a technique called deep brain stimulation that is being used to assist Parkinson's patients and improve their quality of life.

Results are early and very preliminary, but there are also groups studying deep brain stimulation in attempts to help Alzheimer's. No great accomplishments yet, but they largely have to go through trial and error to find the best spots in the brain.

I met two guys who had the deep brain stimulation done, and were thrilled they did.

http://www.medicinenet.com/script/main/ ... key=118908

Back to Back in Omaha!!

The South Carolina Gamecocks repeat as College World Series Champions!


11 wins in a row in The College World Series!

South Carolina won the final World Series in Omaha's Rosenblatt Stadium and the first one in Omaha's Ameritrade Park.

rusty2 wrote:@wingoz RT @johnreporters: Credit to Thurl Bailey on death or Lorenzo Charles. "Jimmy V now has someone to hug" nothing could be more heartfelt. ... 50 minutes ago

I had a super nice "bachelor apartment" in 1983. There were many available girls within "closing opportunity" proximity.

I stayed home the night of the NCAA Championship to see the game.


The decision was a "no doubter."


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kyO8DMvL ... re=related

Thanks, Cali. I will check that out. Mom is on the latest meds., though they won't work forever I do believe they are helping keep her long term memory somewhat in tact. She has no short term memory to speak of.

Bruce Springsteen eulogy for Clarence Clemons.


This is a slightly revised version of the eulogy I delivered for Clarence at his memorial. I'd like to thank all our fans and friends who have comforted us over the past difficult weeks.FOR THE BIG MAN

I've been sitting here listening to everyone talk about Clarence and staring at that photo of the two of us right there. It's a picture of Scooter and The Big Man, people who we were sometimes. As you can see in this particular photo, Clarence is admiring his muscles and I'm pretending to be nonchalant while leaning upon him. I leaned on Clarence a lot; I made a career out of it in some ways.

Those of us who shared Clarence's life, shared with him his love and his confusion. Though "C" mellowed with age, he was always a wild and unpredictable ride. Today I see his sons Nicky, Chuck, Christopher and Jarod sitting here and I see in them the reflection of a lot of C's qualities. I see his light, his darkness, his sweetness, his roughness, his gentleness, his anger, his brilliance, his handsomeness, and his goodness. But, as you boys know your pop was a not a day at the beach. "C" lived a life where he did what he wanted to do and he let the chips, human and otherwise, fall where they may. Like a lot of us your pop was capable of great magic and also of making quite an amazing mess. This was just the nature of your daddy and my beautiful friend. Clarence's unconditional love, which was very real, came with a lot of conditions. Your pop was a major project and always a work in progress. "C" never approached anything linearly, life never proceeded in a straight line. He never went A... B.... C.... D. It was always A... J.... C.... Z... Q... I....! That was the way Clarence lived and made his way through the world. I know that can lead to a lot of confusion and hurt, but your father also carried a lot of love with him, and I know he loved each of you very very dearly.

It took a village to take care of Clarence Clemons. Tina, I'm so glad you're here. Thank you for taking care of my friend, for loving him. Victoria, you've been a loving, kind and caring wife to Clarence and you made a huge difference in his life at a time when the going was not always easy. To all of "C's" vast support network, names too numerous to mention, you know who you are and we thank you. Your rewards await you at the pearly gates. My pal was a tough act but he brought things into your life that were unique and when he turned on that love light, it illuminated your world. I was lucky enough to stand in that light for almost 40 years, near Clarence's heart, in the Temple of Soul.

So a little bit of history: from the early days when Clarence and I traveled together, we'd pull up to the evening's lodgings and within minutes "C" would transform his room into a world of his own. Out came the colored scarves to be draped over the lamps, the scented candles, the incense, the patchouli oil, the herbs, the music, the day would be banished, entertainment would come and go, and Clarence the Shaman would reign and work his magic, night after night. Clarence's ability to enjoy Clarence was incredible. By 69, he'd had a good run, because he'd already lived about 10 lives, 690 years in the life of an average man. Every night, in every place, the magic came flying out of C's suitcase. As soon as success allowed, his dressing room would take on the same trappings as his hotel room until a visit there was like a trip to a sovereign nation that had just struck huge oil reserves. "C" always knew how to live. Long before Prince was out of his diapers, an air of raunchy mysticism ruled in the Big Man's world. I'd wander in from my dressing room, which contained several fine couches and some athletic lockers, and wonder what I was doing wrong! Somewhere along the way all of this was christened the Temple of Soul; and "C" presided smilingly over its secrets, and its pleasures. Being allowed admittance to the Temple's wonders was a lovely thing.

As a young child my son Sam became enchanted with the Big Man... no surprise. To a child Clarence was a towering fairy tale figure, out of some very exotic storybook. He was a dreadlocked giant, with great hands and a deep mellifluous voice sugared with kindness and regard. And... to Sammy, who was just a little white boy, he was deeply and mysteriously black. In Sammy's eyes, "C" must have appeared as all of the African continent, shot through with American cool, rolled into one welcoming and loving figure. So... Sammy decided to pass on my work shirts and became fascinated by Clarence's suits and his royal robes. He declined a seat in dad's van and opted for "C's" stretch limousine, sitting by his side on the slow cruise to the show. He decided dinner in front of the hometown locker just wouldn't do, and he'd saunter up the hall and disappear into the Temple of Soul.

Of course, also enchanted was Sam's dad, from the first time I saw my pal striding out of the shadows of a half empty bar in Asbury Park, a path opening up before him; here comes my brother, here comes my sax man, my inspiration, my partner, my lifelong friend. Standing next to Clarence was like standing next to the baddest ass on the planet. You were proud, you were strong, you were excited and laughing with what might happen, with what together, you might be able to do. You felt like no matter what the day or the night brought, nothing was going to touch you. Clarence could be fragile but he also emanated power and safety, and in some funny way we became each other's protectors; I think perhaps I protected "C" from a world where it still wasn't so easy to be big and black. Racism was ever present and over the years together, we saw it. Clarence's celebrity and size did not make him immune. I think perhaps "C" protected me from a world where it wasn't always so easy to be an insecure, weird and skinny white boy either. But, standing together we were badass, on any given night, on our turf, some of the baddest asses on the planet. We were united, we were strong, we were righteous, we were unmovable, we were funny, we were corny as hell and as serious as death itself. And we were coming to your town to shake you and to wake you up. Together, we told an older, richer story about the possibilities of friendship that transcended those I'd written in my songs and in my music. Clarence carried it in his heart. It was a story where the Scooter and the Big Man not only busted the city in half, but we kicked ass and remade the city, shaping it into the kind of place where our friendship would not be such an anomaly. And that... that's what I'm gonna miss. The chance to renew that vow and double down on that story on a nightly basis, because that is something, that is the thing that we did together... the two of us. Clarence was big, and he made me feel, and think, and love, and dream big. How big was the Big Man? Too fucking big to die. And that's just the facts. You can put it on his grave stone, you can tattoo it over your heart. Accept it... it's the New World.

Clarence doesn't leave the E Street Band when he dies. He leaves when we die.

So, I'll miss my friend, his sax, the force of nature his sound was, his glory, his foolishness, his accomplishments, his face, his hands, his humor, his skin, his noise, his confusion, his power, his peace. But his love and his story, the story that he gave me, that he whispered in my ear, that he allowed me to tell... and that he gave to you... is gonna carry on. I'm no mystic, but the undertow, the mystery and power of Clarence and my friendship leads me to believe we must have stood together in other, older times, along other rivers, in other cities, in other fields, doing our modest version of god's work... work that's still unfinished. So I won't say goodbye to my brother, I'll simply say, see you in the next life, further on up the road, where we will once again pick up that work, and get it done.

Big Man, thank you for your kindness, your strength, your dedication, your work, your story. Thanks for the miracle... and for letting a little white boy slip through the side door of the Temple of Soul.

SO LADIES AND GENTLEMAN... ALWAYS LAST, BUT NEVER LEAST. LET'S HEAR IT FOR THE MASTER OF DISASTER, the BIG KAHUNA, the MAN WITH A PHD IN SAXUAL HEALING, the DUKE OF PADUCAH, the KING OF THE WORLD, LOOK OUT OBAMA! THE NEXT BLACK PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES EVEN THOUGH HE'S DEAD... YOU WISH YOU COULD BE LIKE HIM BUT YOU CAN'T! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE BIGGEST MAN YOU'VE EVER SEEN!... GIVE ME A C-L-A-R-E-N-C-E. WHAT'S THAT SPELL? CLARENCE! WHAT'S THAT SPELL? CLARENCE! WHAT'S THAT SPELL? CLARENCE! ... amen.

I'm gonna leave you today with a quote from the Big Man himself, which he shared on the plane ride home from Buffalo, the last show of the last tour. As we celebrated in the front cabin congratulating one another and telling tales of the many epic shows, rocking nights and good times we'd shared, "C" sat quietly, taking it all in, then he raised his glass, smiled and said to all gathered, "This could be the start of something big."

Love you, "C".

I've been to Seattle. A bunch.

A local bragged to me, "our average yearly temperature is 54 degrees...it's GREAT!"

I bluntly told him, "I feel sorry for you to be happy with THAT."


But some of the bluest skies I've NEVER seen are in Seattle.

Good beat, and a catchy tune.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KqUV210d ... re=related

Updated Jun 30, 2011 2:32 AM ET
US golfer Robert Garrigus, who finished in a tie for third at this month's US Open, admitted he used to smoke marijuana mid-round on the Nationwide Tour in the early 2000s – and he was not the only one, Golf Digest reported Wednesday.

The 33-year-old, who is enjoying a breakthrough season, struggled with substance abuse early in his career but went through drug rehab and made his way onto the PGA Tour.

Garrigus said that in 2002, six years before the tour instituted drug testing and a year before he got clean, he would sneak off for a smoke while in competition on the Nationwide Tour – the US PGA's development tour.

"Oh yeah, there were plenty of guys on the Nationwide Tour who smoked in the middle of the round," Garrigus said.

"We always talked about it. You could go in the Porta John and take your drags."

Garrigus said his substance abuse problems started when he was playing golf at Scottsdale Community College and it simply became part of his lifestyle.

"It was all golf and partying," he said. "I never did hard drugs. I never did coke or LSD. It was just smoking and drinking and hanging out with friends.

"The smoking got to be habitual: five, 10, maybe 20 times a day. I didn't keep track of how much. I constantly needed to be high. And I took it to the max. Every single day. Mostly just smoking, smoking, smoking."

He said now that he has come out the other side, he could realize how "stupid" his behavior was, but he added, "I don't regret any of it because it put me on the path I'm on now."

PGA Tour vice president of communications Ty Votaw said the tour had no comment.

Read more here.

Another one Donna, I thought you were going to quit counting them~

Wow, I can understand craving an ice cold beer on a golf course.

Never at any point in my life have I had an inclination or thought to toke reefer on a golf course.

Now if were in my teens and on a hike in and the rocks and paths of what has become The Cuyahoga Valley National Park with a cute girl in cutoffs and flowing short peasant top who had a two finger bag....

I have never been able to smoke pot and have a good time. It always put me to sleep. I mean I took two drags and I literally could not keep my eyes open to save my life.

If I ever get insomnia there is no doubt in my mind I could go get me one of them there new fangled medical marijuana slips and I'd have a cure no problem.

My best friend when I was young used to smoke all evening long and then play some of the fastest guitar riffs on the planet. I never could understand. Can't imagine trying to play golf or any other sport either.

A little edit here to hammer home my problem ... I had a date with a very attractive co-worker several years back ... maybe best looking girl I ever dated .... we went back to her place and she wanted to smoke a bit. I took a couple hits and fell asleep on her couch... End of night.. .... And in a bizarre twist .... she & I went out on a date a few years later ... we started the evening by having dinner at a Mexican joint. I had a chicken burrito and got food poisening... Went back to her place again and spent a while hugging her toilet before she put me to bed...

No kiddin, I couldn't make this up...

My wife is at a conference in San Antonio, Texas this evening. When I talked to her earlier she was searching for some armadillo themed jewelry on The River Walk.

San Antonio is the only place I was ever thrown out of a bar. 2001 Cleveland Indian playoffs. One of the few regrets in my life is that I acquiesced and did not go toe to toe with the bouncer who shouted "I hate The Cleveland Indians and I hope they lose" and then I called him a name he had a problem with and told me I had to leave. Though folks around me were pleading my case.

My only son is on a flight now to eventually get to Lake Lure, North Carolina for a friend's wedding this weekend.



I spent my evening alone....except for our 14 year old dog Dusty..... and went to our local fair to see Roy Clark.

I was motivated to go primarily to give respect to a great entertainer and a great musician of my lifetime. Hee Haw included.



I was very surprised the house was unusually packed. I normally take a beer in for this venue, but did not tonight as I arrived at curtain time and went directly to the amphitheater.


I had forgotten Roy Clark had done all that Gospel stuff.

If I would have had a beer, I would have been about the only one there with one.


I'm very glad that I can check "seeing Roy Clark" off my list.


Even though he never sang "Yesterday When I Was Young," this evening.

I just have a silent nod to Roy to say in my way, "I understand."

By the way, there is more to that above story that I editted in. I can't share it here cause there is ladies and maybe kids present and it's definitely rated R. But if I'm ever with any of you guys with no ladies present and you want to hear the rest of my pain ask me about it...

HB

Share as you like. I've had multiple rendezvous with girls of my past and have always coupled those memories with the adage "it'll never be the same if you go back home."

Last time I hugged the porcelain throne was after a food contest at our local fair now going on.....but a few years ago.

I had the tamales from 6 different booths. I remember one seemed odd tasting.

About 24 hours later I was extraordinarily nauseous.

I remember my lovely and sensitive wife standing outside the bathroom door and asking "can I come in and at least hold your hair?"

I somewhat less sensitively said, "I'm getting bald....you know that!.....go away so I can puke in peace.....but hey, I LOVE YOU!"

Back when I was a small time golf hustler looking for a bigger gig, I tried playing high on pot in a match for $500, big coin back in the day.

It was a costly mistake.

The only thing that really was a mind altering thing that worked for me on the golf course was hypnotism.

I was getting ready to tee it up in a regional US Open qualifier. First try. There were guys around who had spent time on the Tour and lost their card.

The atmosphere had me jumpy. Even from the practice green of a regional qualifier, I could feel everything a golfer senses if they ever think about playing in the national golf Championship.

Anyway, while I was doing a bit of chipping before the round, a stranger came and stood behind me while I finished up my bag of balls. Normal looking guy who suggested he could help me .

I don't know why I was willing to listen to him, I'm not prone to be so open to a stranger.

We had a drink in the bar and he explained his idea about golf and hypnotism.

Fifteen minutes later I walked back out to the putting green, thinking that hadn't panned out.

I started chipping from about 30 feet.

Holed the first one.

Nice.

Then the second one.

Whoa Nellie!

A local kid I'd picked up for a caddy was laughing like I had cracked a great joke.

I ended up holing 21 out of 50.

In the Zone.

People around the green, including the other players, applauded as I walked to the first tee.

So unreal, like almost not being there because you're there.

They even announced my name, although you count the crowd on your fingers.

First drive right down the middle, 275.

Zip-a-dee-doo-da!

I went out and shot 141 to make it to the sectional qualifier. One of 5 guys.

Those were 2 of the best rounds of my life.

I went back a couple weeks later to find that stranger. No trace.

Man that was fun stuff- even when I had to sleep in my MG.

Best story ever............. Sounds like a great time.

Did the hypnosis thing to quit smoking. Worked first time.