In Anticipation... of Duke-UNC

My favorite memories from the Duke-UNC rivalry don’t involve basketball.

None of them involve anything that happened on the court. Honestly, of the 7 games I watched in person, not a single play or moment on the floor stands out in my mind. Instead, I vividly remember the events leading up to, and following the game. Maybe its because by the time the game started I was completely exhausted from the preparation and anticipation that, up until tip-off, surrounds the contest. But then the ball is tossed, and all the weight leaves your shoulders and once again it just becomes basketball. Two teams, shooting at baskets on opposite ends, trying to score more than the other, the repetition of running up and down the court that occurs thousands of times during the course of a season.

It’s the only time that Duke-UNC takes on the form of a normal basketball game, and calling it a normal game is a stretch, its more of an event. Maybe I blacked out into writer’s mode once the game commenced. Maybe I wanted to forget about the paint covering my shirt and pants that flaked off the sweating fans jumping behind me, or the spit that was sprinkled over my notes from the same screaming fans.

Following the game, even more relief takes over. A beer is opened. A blank word document or a blank Final Cut timeline waits to be filled with highlights. But again, this is easy. I have done this hundreds of times before. Repeat it. The stage is just slightly bigger, the audience more engaged.

--

My first year, in 2009, Duke lost both of its contests with UNC. The Tar Heels were a better team and would go onto win the National Championship. The first game that season was played in Cameron, and preparation for the event began months before the Tobacco Road Showdown. Duke’s video director, Brad Jones, decided to blow out the website on gameday with all day coverage, a new video or article every hour leading up to tip-off. Reporting and research began early, with us grabbing every former or current player who passed through the building’s hallways for an on-camera interview. We ended up with hours of interview footage from Jay Williams, J.J. Redick, Coach K, commentator Mike Patrick and a list of others. We had strapped a camera to the hood of my car (with bungee cords of course) one afternoon and made the 8-mile drive from Cameron to the Dean Dome and back to document the short trip that existed between the two campuses. Of all the preparation that went into being ready for game day, nothing would compare to the excitement and work that went into finishing everything the day before the game, locked in The Cave. With no internal server, Brad and I passed back hard-drives to one another with the footage we needed, putting the finishing touches on all the videos, surviving off Mike & Ike’s, Dunkin Donut’s coffee and a trip for dinner to our favorite Chinese restaurant.

When we were finished, it was 3:30 in the morning. The first video was set to go online in 4 hours. I remember the mix of exhaustion, excitement, relief, and Mike & Ike’s pulsing through my body as we walked into the crisp February air. We were on the verge of cracking, mentally exhausted, not wanting to think about ‘a single basketball game’ anymore, and not wanting to have to see each other again in just a few short hours. We had forgotten this was suppose to be fun...

…But then we were reminded, this is college athletics, this is college basketball, this is about college kids playing a game, this is about two schools located 8 miles apart, this is the biggest night in college basketball and this is about the fans. It’s fun.

As we exited Cameron that night, we witnessed three UNC fans, one with a water balloon launcher, running toward the parking lot adjacent to Cameron. Several Duke students, who were camping out in Krzyzewskiville in anticipation for the game, were chasing them from behind. The Duke students were soaking wet. They had just been victims of a water balloon attack by UNC. The UNC students rushed into a waiting car and sped off, accelerating over two large speed bumps, as the Duke students chased after them in the middle of the night.

It was the perfect ending to the day, or I guess the perfect start to one. If it had not been for us working that late we would have never seen that. Brad and I laughed at the urgency the Duke students chased after the UNC students, actually thinking they were going to run down a car on foot. Even some of the brightest young minds in college were prone to react off of emotion instead of intelligence. They were fans first. We spoke to the Duke students, huffing and puffing from their short chase, briefly, and then headed home.

That event put what we were doing into perspective – the creating, fretting, tinkering over the smallest details into the wee hours of the night was fun - and it was suppose to be. At that point, it didn’t matter to us what anyone else thought of the work we did. We didn’t care. We were proud that we had pulled it off and did something that hadn’t been done before. We did it for the people who sleep outside for months to go to a single basketball game, for the people who water balloon fans of the opposing team and for the fans that will chase back…

… And we did it because some thought we couldn’t. Some thought it was too much to take on. I think we liked that aspect of it the most, this challenge of taking on more than we should have, more than people thought was worth, and then pulling it off.

I don’t remember much about the actual day of the game. Duke lost. I had prevented a Brad blowup earlier in the afternoon. Everything was a success on the website. I drank a lot of coffee. My lasting image of the day came postgame. It was in the Duke locker room, the media hovering around the players asking questions. I remember seeing Greg Paulus sitting on a stool, answering questions from reporters with a towel around his neck. He was trying to hold back the emotion that was naturally coming out of his voice as he talked about the last time he would get to play UNC in Cameron, having never beaten them on Coach K Court. He cared so much, even more so than the students who were sleeping outside and chasing UNC fans in a car down Whitford Drive the night before.

--

I would be part of 6 more Duke-UNC games. Each one with a similar event surrounding the actual game that stood out more than basketball. Like in 2011, my final Duke-UNC game in Cameron, as we pulled off a live online pre-game show. Then after, watching former MLB pitcher Kevin Millwood, wearing a Marvin the Martian t-shirt, play horse in Cameron into the wee hours of the night, airballing 15 footers; My boss shaking hands with Chad, who replaced Brad, and me and telling us good job. A simple gesture, but much appreciated.

Then heading back to my office, leaning back in my chair inside The Cave, computer on my lap, beer can open, staring at a blank word document. Relieved that Duke won, relieved that the show was a success, proud that my last game in that building was special for the right reasons, not because of the outcome, but because of the people I got to share it with.

Family History

And so at the head of the table he sat, placing a large helping of salad onto the tomato sauce from the pasta dinner that remained on his plate, waiting to be sopped up by bread. He ate his salad at the end of the meal. It was the Italian in him. A half drank glass of red wine rested in front of him. It was Easter Sunday. His daughter was seated to his right. I was to his left. His granddaughter, my sister, was next to me. His son-in-law sat at the other end of the table.

My grandfather, Paul Alongi, took a sip from his glass of vino. He swallowed, taking a moment to taste the flavors of the wine. His lips parted and he began to speak. He looked at me. I listened to my grandfather speak. Consuming each word that came out of his mouth much like I had consumed our Easter dinner, which consisted of my mom’s spaghetti and meatballs, salad, brisket, bread and corn. I made sure to savior and remember everything he was saying. His words were history. His history. My history. My family’s history. I knew they meant something, important. I knew I would want to remember what he was telling me. I felt like he was only talking to me. I refused to let the fact that I had drank almost a bottle of wine myself to impair me from remembering what he was saying.

Three generations sat around the dinner table, but none were listening as intensely as me. I loved when my Grandfather tells stories about Italy - the ‘old country’. It fascinates me. I could sit and listen about stories of my Great Grandfather, who I never met, all evening. If you want to keep me seated at the dinner table, just start talking about my families history.

My Grandfather spoke about his father, Charles. Charles was born in Sicily. He was 20 years old when he left his home for America. He arrived like many, on Ellis Island. He was one of the thousands and thousands of people you read about in history books in 5th grade. He was one of the people who left their homes in search of “a better life” or the “American dream”. He would first settle in Buffalo, N.Y.

I had to ask a question.

So, I interrupted and asked, “why there?”

It didn’t take my Grandfather a second to answer. “Because, it was where the work was.” Such a simple reason. ‘It was where the work was’.

Eventually, ‘work’ led him slightly further south, ending up in Farrell, Pa. He would meet his wife, my Great Grandmother, who I also never met, Catherine. She too was born in Italy. I can’t recall the name of the city where she was from, but my Grandfather assures me that it was a place far worse than Sicily in regards to being known for ‘organized crime’ or the mafia.

The two of them would make a home in Pennsylvania, where my Grandfather was born. My Grandfather would grow up in Farrell. He would meet a Hungarian woman named Mary Ann, who would become his wife.

My mom chimes in that she remembers visiting my Grandfather’s old house in Farrell. She would always find my Great Grandfather sitting in his garden just up the hill from the house. He loved his garden. He would sit in it in a lawn chair with a bottle of wine. He would sit amongst the vegetables, talking to himself, or his plants in Italian. My mom, as a kid, would dance around the heads of cabbage, lettuce and tomatoes and carrots and peppers and zucchinis, listening to her Grandfather speak, some in English some in Italian but completely at peace with the life he had and the life that his family had. His son, my Grandfather, had become a carpenter. He built houses. He gave people shelter.

My mind leaves my Grandfather’s story for a moment. I imagine every sip of wine ever drank in that garden by my Great Grandfather. I picture my mother as a kid playing in the garden, picking tomatoes off the vine, and my Grandfather out in the hot sun, nailing two-by-fours together and wiping sawdust and sweat off his forehead with a bandana. All this must have made my Great Grandfather proud. He had succeeded. He had created a family for himself. I’m sure he had his struggles along the way…. He was arrested before. He went to jail for 10 days for making his own moonshine during prohibition. The police showed up on his steps, said they had heard he was making moonshine, found it, and took him to jail. For 10 days, his job as an incarcerated man was winding the clock at the county’s courthouse. After 10 days, he was back him. Probably back in his garden. Probably happy.

My mind returns to the story. My Grandfather now talking about all the houses he built. He built the house I grew up in. He built his house. He built houses up and down streets. I’ve been on very few car rides with him where he hasn’t pointed out a house that he at least worked on. I’m proud of this.

Then he tells about my Great Grandmother. A woman, who could be the sweetest, kindness, most generous woman in the world, but cross her and you would feel the back of her hand or a kick in the butt. She had been known to go up to friends and family members at parties or gatherings and slip money into people’s pockets. She was the opposite of a pickpocketer. She snuck money into your pockets. There was also a story that she had SHOT someone. But my Grandfather assures me that is an exaggeration. She fired a gun into the air before, but that was because a drunk, who had been stumbling through their neighborhood had wandered into her house on accident and to scare him fired the gun. The cops were called. The drunk was taken away. Nobody was shot.

I sat speechless.

My Grandfather finished his wine.

Draft Recap: Incepted Anonymous

Breakdown of 2011 Fantasy Football Draft: Incepted Anonymous

... Trying to get inside the minds of my fantasy football league.

1^st Round, sixth pick overall – Michael Vick: Team Tomko

1^st Round, seventh pick overall – Aaron Rodgers: Team Lumpp

Eight of the first 10 picks were running backs, with Vick and Rodgers filling out the middle of the first round and adding some diversity to the selections made in the first round. Both are strong picks and expect both to have better fantasy season than the running backs that went after them in the first round (Ray Rice, Rashard Mendenhall and LeSean McCoy). I wasn’t turned off by Vick’s 3 INT performance against the Steelers last weekend to not pull the trigger on Vick, the player who has the greatest risk/reward value in fantasy football. I don’t put much stock in preseason games and Vick will not have to face the Steelers during the regular season.

2^nd Round, eleventh pick – Tom Brady: Team Guidish

To get arguably the best quarterback in the NFL in the second round will always be considered a steal. Pair him with McCoy, who was selected the pick before by Team Guidish, and the duo becomes potential the best combination of first and second round picks, while coming at 10^th and 11^th overall.

2^nd Round, nineteenth pick – Darren McFadden: Team Sivin

Who would have thought a year ago that McFadden would be a second round pick? Now he must live up to expectations instead of floating under the radar and being a pleasant surprise to teams that drafted him in the later rounds last season.

3^rd Round, twenty-third pick – Tony Romo: Team Wingenfield

This is the only pick I openly mocked during the live draft. I don’t think Team Wingenfield got good value with this selection. After seeing Brady, Phillip Rivers and Drew Brees get selected in consecutive picks in the second round, Wingenfield panicked and selected Romo instead of being patient and realizing he could have still gotten a quality quarterback in the next round. He passed up the potential playmaking of Larry Fitzgerald, Reggie Wayne, DeSean Jackson, Shonn Green and Dez Bryant. All would have been a nice addition to the pairing of Jamaal Charles and Calvin Johnson. Plus, he could have selected Matt Ryan with his fourth round pick, who I think is overall just a better quarterback than Romo. I think it was the first truly bad selection of the draft.

4^th Round, thirty-eighth pick – Miles Austin: Team Wingenfield

Honestly, I’m not trying to pick on Team Wingenfield but this is another bad pick…. There is really nothing else left to say.

4^th Round, fortieth pick – Matt Ryan: Team (Better) Lumpp

Great value in the fourth round and the player Wingenfield should have selected with the thirty-eighth pick. Ryan has plenty weapons around him to put up Aaron Rodgers type numbers and the Falcons are on the verge of an NFC Championship.

5^th Round, forty-eighth pick – Beanie Wells: Team Williams (Cobb Salad)

Selecting an injury prone and frequent fumbling running back is never a good thing, and Wells being selecting inside the top 50 only adds to the risk of this selection, but with Beanie’s backup, Ryan Williams, being out for the season, Wells will have plenty of touches to prove he is worth this selection. Lucky for Williams, he already has Rice and Ahmad Bradshaw as his starting running backs so taking a risk on a potential starting flex player isn’t as bad as HAVING to play Wells because he is your only option.

6^th Round, fifty-first pick – Felix Jones: Team Guidish

6^th Round, fifty-second pick – Jeremy Maclin: Team Strahan

6^th round, fifty-third pick – Percy Harvin: Team Williams (Cobb Salad)

Really liked al three picks. Guidish adds Jones, an explosive playmaker who is capable of producing at least one 3-touchdown game during the course of the season, and when listed alongside the players Guidish has already selected it looks even better. Both Maclin and Harvin were players I would have selected over my Anquan Boldin, who I ended up selecting with the fifty-fifth pick.

7^th Round, sixty-third pick – Mark Ingram: Team Wingenfield

7^th Round, sixty-fourth pick – Ryan Mathews: Team Osborne

The first pick I really like of Wingenfield. Ingram will be a talent. The Saints have spread out their carries between running backs over the years, but I think Ingram can be productive and slowly earn the majority of the carries by the end of the season…. Now with Mathews, a player I lived with last year that did absolutely nothing despite every prognosticator calling him a first round talent. My bad experience with Mathews didn’t turn Osborne off to selecting him in the seventh round, and if healthy, maybe he can live up to the first round hype of a year ago…. I just don’t think he will.

8^th Round, seventy-first pick – Julio Jones: Team Guidish

Another pick I really like by Team Guidish. Through the first eight rounds I think it s safe to say that he has my favorite team on paper.

8^th Round, seventy-sixth pick - Ben Roethlisberger: Team Galindo

Galindo attended the draft just long enough to select Eli Manning in the third round and then was gone, relying on auto-draft to complete his team. A ballsy move by one of the bravest fantasy competitors in recent memory, as time will tell if the move will pay off. One move that I don’t expect to pay off is Big Ben. Not because I don’t like Roethlisberger, I think Wingenfield would have been better off taking Ben back in the third round over Romo, but because this give Galindo three quarterbacks and last time I checked, you could only play one.

9^th Round, eighty-third pick – Same Bradford: Team Wingenfield

I like Bradford…. But I’m rooting for Thaddeus Lewis to somehow become the number one quarterback for the Rams.

10^th Round, ninety-first pick – Reggie Bush: Team Guidish

Damnit G!... Another selection I like, especially since it is the tenth round and Guidish keeps finding players that could potential put up huge fantast numbers. Through 10, G is the leader in the clubhouse.

11^th Round, 106^th pick – Matthew Stafford: Team Tomko

I think this is the point in the draft that my interest started to wane. Plus, a new episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm was starting… But I still got the backup quarterback I wanted. I think the Lions will be better than people think and Stafford has looked good this preseason (so obviously I don’t listen to my own advice about the preseason not meaning anything.)… Back to Curb. Amazing episode. It gave us the term, ‘shitbow’, Leon returns and Larry competing for the affections of a bi-sexual woman with Rosie O’Donnell.

12^th Round, 114^th pick – Ronnie Brown: Team Lumpp

Remember when Brown was the second overall pick in the 2005 NFL Draft? Me either.

14 Round, 134^th pick- Kevin Kolb: Team Lumpp

I’m still not 100 percent sure how to say his last name… I should probably learn that.

15^th Round, 143^rd pick – Ricky Williams: Team Wingenfield

It’s like he wants me to keep making fun of his picks… well I’m not going to give in on this one.

16^th Round, 152^nd pick – Danny Woodhead: Team Strahan

“You want to see my Danny Woodhead. That’s not even a joke, I just think he is a good player.”

The Cave

The Cave, the fortress, the dungeon or the hole, all names apply. It is where I spent the majority of my days the past three years. It is where I drank swill, aka the coffee from the business office, with Brad Jones in the morning to start the day. The cave almost wasn’t even my home. Brad pulled me out of the Sports Information office, seeing that it was already cramped and would become even more cramped once students arrived, and into his newly converted storage closet that would serve as command central for the newly created Duke athletics video department. On day one, all that existed in the room was a long desk that was mounted on the wall stretching the length of the room, a Dell laptop, a Mac Desktop and two Penn State graduates. A recipe, if not for disaster, but the potential for a lot of hilarity, both ensued.

In a blink of an eye all the space that existed would become engulfed by cameras, racks, towers, bags, monitors, switchers, audio boards, lights, tripods, cables and just the general clutter that two people who grew up in Western Pennsylvania generally amass over the course of a few weeks. A filing system was non-existent. Once a day a notepad would exist with scribblings from a meeting written on it, the next day that same notepad would be long gone. Flash drives, forget about it, they never stood a chance, countless were lost, but never forgotten.

“Have you seen the blue junk drive?”

“Not in weeks.”

But somehow it worked. Before long the new video board in Cameron Indoor Stadium was installed and with it a rack of equipment would be stationed in the back left corner, taking up more space. Another monitor. A switcher. A TV mounted on the wall. An Aja digital conversion box, a beta player, external hard drives, firewires, old cups of coffee, bottles of water that were now half way filled with chew spit, a Mac laptop, a box of donuts, all of this now filled the room, the desk, the work space, and essentially, the storage closest that was emptied to house the video department became a storage closest once again, but yet, it was still so much more.

This was only the beginning of the mess that would be created, over even more time Croc Pots would be used to keep beer cold, five pound bags of Mike & Ike’s, Reese Cups and peanut M&M’s would live on the desk, if only briefly. A shot clock, yes that’s right, the backup shot clock for Cameron Indoor Stadium would make The Cave its home, of course with its buzzer disabled, but other than that fully functioning. Another desk would be added, pulled from the hallway because Brad would have rather kept it in the office than have it thrown away. The desk just added another location for us to pile coffee makers, clothes, whisky and paper.

Since shelves were not in the budget, we improvised. Finding an old basketball rack in the hallway, along with some wooden planks, and before you knew it we had ourselves a shelf. Quickly it was covered with DVD’s (Seinfeld, Dumb & Dumber, Gladiator), a giant stuffed lobster, a Pittsburgh Maulers helmet, a bottle of Aleve that had an assortment of different colored pills in it, Blowpops, trophy’s, books, media guides, papers, everything, simply, we had everything but somehow we never could FIND anything.

That first year, with The Cave still evolving into what it would fully become, was my favorite, and my proudest year for what Brad was able to accomplish and pull off with zero budget. Things might not have always looked great. Cables may have been hung off lights and through ceiling tiles. The Fire Marshall may have given us fearful looks, but everything worked. It functioned in a way that the people out enjoying the show in Cameron, watching the videos on GoDuke.com, would have thought everything was roses behind the scenes. In reality, we were rushing. Software and hard drives were crashing. Video boards were freezing, but somehow, and I give all the credit to Brad, it worked when it needed to.

And in a way that is the best way to describe The Cave and us. It worked when it needed to and we had things done when we needed to. When the chips were down and the deadlines were upon us, we got things to work; we finished projects, exported files, filmed games, created highlights all when it needed to be done, even if we had went home at 3:00 a.m. the night before or were going on our seventh game in ten nights. So what if occasionally we spent an hour on YouTube laughing at videos, or Facebook, or making an extra coffee run, or taking a little bit longer at lunch, or simply just driving around Durham, because as much as we needed The Cave to be our place and feel like it belonged to us, there were times when we needed to be anywhere else but that room.

I’m sure I’ll never work inside an office like The Cave again. It was its own animal. It was not for the weak minded. It was our brainchild. It functioned how we thought… scattered in 10 different directions. But it was home, through the good times and the bad, the one constant was that office. It was always there, ready to house whoever wanted to stop by, to talk about work, to complain about their boss, to vent, to cry, to laugh, it served as something for everyone that stepped into it… If only those walls could talk….

Three years later the room has come full circle. Brad is gone. Chad is fully situated as the new director of video operations. He tried to clean up The Cave. He succeeded for about eight months. It is back to being a mess now, despite some slight changes. I fought Chad's need to be organized and brought the room back to its rightful clutter just before walking away. It looks good.

Short Story (Part II)

…. And now at 9:00 a.m., while Erin was sitting in class, sipping on a tepid cup of coffee she grabbed quickly from the common’s of McCabe Hall, Chad was rolling over, shutting the buzz of his alarm clock off and rolling out of bed, emitting a sound more often heard coming from a family of grizzly bears than people.

In triumphant fashion, Chad’s day had officially begun.

He managed to grab his toothbrush and tube of Crest as he wandered out his dorm and across his hallway to the co-ed bathroom. His first sight was a female student, one that he saw often spending way too much time in the bathroom applying her makeup and meticulously grooming her hair just so. Paying little attention, he made his way over to the sink, splashing water on his face to help the wake-up process. Then, placed a generous portion of toothpaste onto his toothbrush as he gently massaged the bristles along his teeth and gums. Two spits later and he was back in his dorm.

He pulled a pair of grey sweatpants with a Clemson Tiger paw logo embroidered on the left leg just below the pocket out of a pile of clothes on the floor. Checking for any noticeable stains, Chad decided they were suitable for the day ahead. He then removed an orange Clemson t-shirt from a hanger in his closet. His closet doors doubled as mirror, mockingly, to nobody in particular, Chad gave a quick once over of his appearance in the mirror, checking that his hair, which couldn’t have been longer than an eighth of an inch was in pristine condition.

It must have been because Chad whipped his black Nike book bag over his shoulder and locked the door behind him.

Clemson University, located in Clemson, South Carolina and founded in 1889 is home to 15,346 undergraduate students. When the school opened over 100 year ago, it was educational institute to just 446 students and 15 faculty members. Now Chad was one of those 15,000. Erin was another. Both had arrived in South Carolina via different paths. Currently though, the only path that mattered to Chad was the one to Harcombe’s Dining Hall.

He exited through McCabe’s Hall North exit. In front of him, just a few hundred feet of quad separated him from his destination. To his left was Holmes Hall, just up ahead of that was Student Government Building and to his right was the Edgar Brown University Union. Resting between all that was Harcombe, the dining hall Chad frequented daily. The building was located on the corner of Union Drive and Alpha Beta Circle.

Twenty of so students milled around the quad between the buildings, some returning to their dorms, other just leaving, some on the same path as Chad. One though happened to catch Chad’s eye. A female student, wearing a black dress and her heels in her hands, was walking toward him. He recognized her. She lived in his dorm. He had seen her in the laundry room occasional. It was obvious she wasn’t returning from class. She was performing the ‘walk of shame’ for the 20 or so students in the quad. She was still 100 feet in front of him, but Chad could see the embarrassment on the girls face. Her eyes focused on the ground just in front of her. Two male students, wearing Chi Psi fraternity t-shirts asked, “fun night?”, as they passed her on the sidewalk. If their comment bothered her it didn’t show. Her focus never left the concrete.

The frat boys comment actually bothered Chad more. While his initial reaction to spotting the girl on the ‘walk of shame’ was smirk at the situation, the slight smile was quickly removed. He thought about Erin rushing out of the dorm earlier that morning, late for class and fumbling with her shoes as she hopped out of his room. How was she feeling about having to run out of his dorm and to her first class this morning in the same clothes she had the night before? Her difference though was that she was wearing tennis shoes, jeans and a long sleeved shirt that morning. Still, it bothered Chad. If somebody were to make a comment, like the frat boys to the girl who was now passing Chad on his left, to Erin, Chad wouldn’t have liked it. So whatever desire existed to laugh at the humorless comment by the frat boys at first was completely gone and filled with thoughts of Erin and if she has ever been harassed that way.

He would ask her later.

His attention turned back to Harcombe Hall, which was just a few feet in front of him. He hurried up the 10 steps that led up to the door, taking them two at a time. At the door, he paused, took one long last breath of the crisp November air, and then entered.

Short Story (Work in Progress)

I'm working on a short story about a college student who spends his whole day in the school's dining hall talking with classmates instead of going to class.... This is the beginning, be kind, it's a work in progress.

8:00 A.M.

8:02 A.M.

The incessant buzz of the alarm clock had been beeping for two minutes. Finally, Chad rolled to his left, his girlfriend Erin’s sleeping face stared back at him, her eyes still closed, her mind lost in a dream, maybe about the life they would one day have together, the three kids, the house, the white picket fence, the golden retriever that would guard the house at night from intruders or the monsters that inevitably haunt every child’s nightmares while they sleep. Or maybe she was simply dreaming about the day ahead, the English midterm that afternoon, the meeting with her advisor afterward to plan her final semester’s schedule of classes, the dinner she would have with Chad in Harcombe Dining Hall that evening.

Chad on the other hand smiled as he looked deep into the back of her eyelids. Any moment he would see her bold green eyes in the morning sunlight that was creeping through the slits in the blinds. He reached his left arm over her body gently grazing her right shoulder with his elbow. His fingers, extending fully, reached the alarm clock, his index finger pressing the button to stop the buzzing. By the time his arm was back by his side Erin’s eyes were open, already gazing back at him. She blinked four times in succession, focusing her vision, then smiling, then leaning forward, then parting her lips slightly giving Chad a kiss on his forehead.

“Good morning”, sung from her voice. “What time is it?”

“Just after 8”

“Shit,” she shrieked, the moment completely gone. “I’m late for class.”

Leaping our of the bed, Erin fumbled for the hair tie that rested on his desk, in the process knocking over a Styrofoam Bojangles cup that once was the home of sweet tea, but now just housed the remnants of crushed ice that hadn’t melted yet.

“Shit. Sorry. I need to go. Love you. See you tonight.”

And as quickly as she woke up she was out the door and headed to her first class, the ice from the Bojangles Cup scattered across the hard-wood floor.

Chad, unfazed, reset his alarm. His first class of the day, HIST 400 - Medieval History with Caroline Dunn would take attendance in 27 minutes. Chad would not be there. His 9:00 a.m. wake up call would buzz precisely 30 minutes after Dunn would have called his name. He resigned himself to his bed until at least 9 o’clock, with his first class of the day being breakfast at Harcombe Dining Hall.

For Chad, Harcombe Dining Hall was a short walk. Living in McCabe Hall, a five-story building that houses about 290 Clemson students, the trip over to the dining hall took Chad no more than eight minutes. For Erin on the other hand, the trip to Harcombe’s dining hall was much longer. She lived in Smith Hall, an all female dorm on the opposite side of campus. Her commute was much longer to the favorite dining destination of her boyfriend, who would graduate with her in just less than three months.

Final Duke-UNC Game

It’s 2:00 a.m. and I am just leaving Cameron. I’ve just watched my last Duke-North Carolina basketball game at Duke. This time next year I will be in Chicago, hundreds of miles away from one of sports greatest rivals. Tonight’s game was special. The Blue Devils overcame a 14-point halftime deficit to win by six. It was Duke’s largest second-half comeback win over UNC in the series history. And while I know I am ready to leave Duke and experience something new in Chicago, Duke will always a hold a special place in my heart. I will remember today. I may not remember the specifics of the game, but I will never forget that Duke won. It’s funny, but the moment I may remember the most about tonight doesn’t involve Duke or North Carolina. It will be that I spent 10 minutes (at 1:15 a.m.) watching former Atlanta Brave Kevin Millwood playing a game of H-O-R-S-E with his buddy and filming it on a flip cam. I will remember his Marvin the Martian t-shirt and thinking, this guy once led MLB in ERA and now he is air balling a 16-foot jumper. It’s the obscure things that I will remember. Those moments behind the scenes that only a select handful of people have seen. So while 9,000 plus people watched Duke win, I rather remember that I watched Kevin Millwood take jump shots long after everyone else went home.

My Sauce

Every so often, when something happens to jog my memory, I take time to think back and remember everything I can about grandparents. My cooking caused it to happen this time. I have done this probably once a year every year since this one night during my junior year of college when I decided to try and find if there were any military records of either one of my grandfathers on the Internet. I failed to find anything, but ended up sitting at my desk crying as I recalled various memories from my childhood involving my grandparents.

At the time, only one of them had passed away. My Grandpa Tomko, who I am sad to say I have the least memories of, died when I was in third grade from cancer. It was difficult to remember things about him, but I will always remember him driving me to his house on Friday’s after school. The bus would drop me off at my house and there he would be, waiting in his car to take me to his house until one of my parents was finished with work. We played a game each trip. The goal was to reach his house without hitting any red lights along the way, nearly an impossible task. We probably never accomplished it, but he would cheat and slowly creep up to the stop line until the light turned green. This way we could say we never hit a red light. It was stupid. It was perfect. It is my most vivid memory of him. I wish I had more.

This weekend, as I was preparing my homemade spaghetti sauce, my mind naturally wondered to memories of my Grandma Alongi. It is her recipe that was passed down to my mom and then on to me. I laugh because we all follow the same recipe, yet when the finished dished is served on the table they all taste slightly different, none of us fully duplicating the same flavors that the other one created. My Grandma made the best meatballs. My mom had the best sauce. I’m just trying to keep up. My grandmother never got to taste my version of her sauce. I think she would have liked it.

She passed away during my senior year of college. She had suffered with Alzheimer’s for many, many years, then a stroke. When she finally went, it was truly the best thing for her… She was the one who taught me poker. I couldn’t have been more than five years old when she sat me down and explained how a flush beat a straight and a full house beat a flush. I don’t think many five year olds knew how to play poker, but I did. I like thinking I was the youngest poker player. It makes me smile. Other five year olds were playing Uno or Old Maid. I was playing five-card draw poker, one-eyed jacks wild….

I remember my grandmother pre-Alzheimer’s and post-Alzheimer’s. It’s sad but she was two different people. The only good that came from the disease was that she finally quit smoking and that was because she couldn’t remember that she smoked. I used to steal her cigarettes and hide them from her in an attempt to get her to stop smoking. I never realized that she had more packs at home or that should could go to the store and buy more. Naïve kid. She was great. She hated board games but would always play them with my sister and me. She loved solitaire and word searches. We had to do hundreds of them together. She would let me add the vinegar to the salad every lunch. I would push the limits each time trying to pour as much on as I could. She never got mad. It was just the ritual of making lunch. I think she liked it as much as I did. She didn’t have a license. She carried a purse that was huge and filled with an endless supply of bubblegum. She loved jigsaw puzzles, cats, her grandchildren, a shot of what I think was whiskey before bed, cards, tending to her tomato plants, taking walks and slot machines. She could do without TGIF’s TV lineup that aired on ABC, specifically the show Family Matters, board games and….

That’s probably it. She could tolerate most things…. I think my fondest memory of her though, which is actually on video, is of her rebounding my missed dunk attempts on my Fisher Price basketball hoop during my 4^th birthday party… It was a great birthday…

Oh she also blessed us with her Texas Sheet Cake. It is the greatest cake. I can’t make it. My mom can’t make it. My sister though, I think she got the gene, because she is the only one that can come close to duplicating that dessert.

I have two grandparents still living. My Grandma Tomko turned 81 years old today. I called her to wish a happy birthday and ended up on the topic of her old rotary phone and how her phone down her basement is still a rotary. I can still see the old phone that hung on her kitchen wall that instead of pressing buttons you spun a dial. So much has changed. She tells me how her first job was working telephone switchboards, “In the 50’s, Michael!” she exclaims. Now I’m calling her on a cell phone that can access the Internet. She doesn’t have the Internet. She only recently got cable for her television, finally abandoning her antenna. It all makes me laugh. We used to turn her living room into a bowling alley. She set up the plastic pins and Leslie and me would bowl. She let us beat her in Connect 4, and taught us the card game Phase 10. She’s still an exceptional cook. I don’t call enough.

I spoke to my other living grandparent tonight too. My Grandpa Alongi was sleeping. I let the phone ring roughly thirty times. He finally answered. He doesn’t have the best hearing so I have to speak loud over the phone. He sounded glad to hear from me. I need to call him more too. He is a retired carpenter. I can still smell the sawdust that used to permeate his garage on a hot summer day. He was great with his hands. We built a birdhouse together one afternoon. I painted it white and red. He made me my very own Plinko Board out of wood and nails. He had a woodshop down his basement and tons of other contraptions. He loved garage sales and auctions. We took his blue station wagon on every trip to the Jersey Shore. I miss those trips, as uncomfortable as they were in that car. I will never forget them. He still re-grips golf clubs for his friends. He could sleep through a Tornado. He lived, until recently, without an air conditioner in his house. He loves golf and the casinos.

I think I wrote this tonight because I don’t want to forget more. I want to have some of these memories on file, a reference to a few moments of their lives. I wish I could remember more. I am thankful for each of them.

Peace and much Love to you

They're back....Kanye, Eminem & N.E.R.D.

1. Mr. West is back. That's all you need to say.

2. Eminem's new album leaked. It's crazy. It ranks up there with his best albums (The Marshall Mathers LP and The Eminem Show).... Song with Lil' Wayne, "No Love" is sick.... So is every other song on the album.

3. N.E.R.D. is back with Nelly Furtado.... the song is.... dare I say it, Hot N Fun.

Decisions, decisions...

In six weeks, Lebron James will make a decision that will define who he is as a person.

It will not only altar the balance of power in the NBA for the next 12 years, its will also finally let the us, the people who care about basketball, purchase jersey’s, buy season tickets and spend hours pouring over box scores, know exactly what makes one of the most dynamic athletes in the history of the NBA tick.

His decision will come down to one simple question.

What does he value most?

Loyalty, winning or money.

If it is loyalty, the obvious choice for James is to remain in Cleveland, a place where he grew up and a city that needs James more than James needs the city.

If it is winning, the obvious choice is Chicago, a city with a great basketball tradition and a team with talent already in place for James to try and win a championship next season.

If it is money, the obvious choice/choices is New York/New Jersey (Brooklyn), a city where he can go and make more money and be marketed as the savior of basketball if he can succeed in turning one of the struggling franchises around.

For the next six weeks, these are the choices that the reigning MVP will have to weigh. Most likely he will wait. He will take his time. He said following the Cavaliers quarterfinal loss to the Boston Celtics that he and his team would evaluate all options before making the best decision.

So what will he choose?

Will it be loyalty? He loves his home. He has always said that his heart is in Cleveland, and as long as James stays on the Cavs, they will be considered one of the top four teams in the NBA. His presence alone does that. So while Cleveland is not the sexist city to play for, it is his home, he has friends, family and an entire city of strangers that will be holding their breath for the next six weeks hoping and praying that the local boy stays close to his roots.

If he stays, he will, probably at some point in his career win a championship. He is too great of a player to go his entire career without hoisting the championship trophy. Can he win next year though if he stays in Cleveland? Probably not. The Cavs won’t have the cap space to add another big time player to pair with James. And if this season taught LeBron anything it’s that one player can’t win a title.

But it is home. And the Cavs can offer him the most money. And he can go about trying to do the previously unimaginable by bringing a championship banner to the Gund…errr, I mean Quicken Loans Arena.

Is it winning? Does winning really, truly drive LeBron James? He has said he wants to win championships, but as we all know what athletes say and what athletes actually do is two completely different things. If winning is what drives him and if he wants to win right away the top choice for James is the Chicago Bulls. He would already have the pieces in place to contend next season with the Orlando Magic for the top spot in the Eastern Conference.

Derrick Rose would play the Scottie Pippen role, Joakim Noah would play Dennis Rodman, Luol Deng would play Toni Kukoc and Kirk Hinrich would play the role of Steve Kerr. James would be the lead, doing his best Michael Jordan impersonation in the house that MJ built. He would have his all-star sidekick in Rose, his hard-working big man in Noah and a cast of talented role players that could get James’s his first championship, while bringing Chicago basketball back to prominence.

Is it money? If it is, the choice is New York, whether it’s the Nets or the Knicks. If James wants to become a global figure bigger than any athlete ever his choice will be New York. It is Nike’s, Gatorade’s and the entire city of New York’s dream to have the No. 1 athlete in the No. 1 city in the world.

Both teams though would be projects. He probably wouldn’t be able to win a championship next season as either a Knick or a Net, but that is not to say he wouldn’t capture a ring in a few years. The Nets seem to have more flexibility with cap and draft picks than the Knicks as well as a new billionaire owner, but the Knicks are well the Knicks, and David Stern would love to have the game’s top player in the leagues top market. And if he can win in New York, maybe he will finally be able to earn the nickname that he gave to himself but has yet to prove is warranted. Winning a title inside Madison Square Garden would certainly do that.

So we wait, six weeks for the sports top player to make his decision.

We will all be witness.

Pumping out my speakers

1. Kanye West featuring Mos Def - Good Night

A bonus track from Graduation. Mos Def's singing is the best part.

2. Ne-Yo Featuring Kanye West - Because of You (remix)

Not new at all, but I remembered how much i liked it. Ye's verse is crazy.

3. Lupe Fiasco - I'm Beaming

Favorite Albums of the Decade...

Honorable mentions:

Reflection Eternal -Talib Kweli (2000): Talib Kweli is one of Hip-hops most poetic rappers. His influences can be seen today with mainstream stars Lupe Fiasco and Kanye West. The song Africa Dreams takes listeners on a musical journey beginning with tribal drums and ending with DJ scratches on a turntable.

The Marshall Mathers LP - Eminem (2000): This is Em’s opus. It is a disturbing and grotesque album. But the way Eminem delivers line after line makes it one of the best lyrical albums of the decade. Very few artists can write the way he does and tell a story.

Hybrid Theory -Linkin Park (2000): I had never listened to any CD more when Linkin Park came out with their debut album. The group successfully combined rap and metal into an album that allowed them to have cred with both genres of music.

In Search of… - N.E.R.D. (2001): The album is like a free flowing river, becoming calm at times and then rough and treacherous. N.E.R.D, which stands for No One Ever Really Dies, keeps listeners on their toes the entire album, switching tempos and musical construction mid song, producing a sound that is truly unique.

The Beautiful Struggle - Talib Kweli (2004): His beats are more mainstream this time around, but the messages he raps about are as powerful as ever. In “Going Hard” he spits,‘Parents never there, they're busy building homes they can't afford to buy, Cars they can't afford to drive, Working jobs that don't support their life, You busy screaming gangsta, gangsta all that talk is trife.’

The College Dropout - Kanye West (2004): His first album is a classic, bringing the soul sample to the forefront of hip-hop. The song “Family Business” is my favorite on the album. West changes keys on his final verse rapping, “I woke up early this mornin' with a new state of mind, A creative way to rhyme without usin' knives and guns, Keep your nose out the sky, keep your heart to God, And keep your face to the risin' sun’.

The Cool - Lupe Fiasco (2007): To fully appreciate everything in a Lupe Fiasco album it must be listened to many, many times, because the Chicago MC slips in so many metaphors that you need to go back again and again to fully grasp his abilities. For example on the song “The Coolest” he raps ‘please forgive Michael Young History’, but just listening to the song it sounds like ‘please forgive my cool young history’.

3. The Blueprint – Jay-Z (2001): In my mind this is his best album, even better than Reasonable Doubt. “H-to the Izzo” was my anthem during sophomore year of high school. I remember listening to it before soccer games. Kanye West produces the majority of the album lending the soul sample to Jay-Z’s rhymes. “Heart of the City” and “All I Need” are standouts. And his storytelling ability is on full display on the track ‘Song Cry” – ‘I can’t see them coming down my eye, so I got to make this song cry’.

2. Late Registration – Kanye West (2005): West didn’t suffer a sophomore slump with his second album. Late Registration is a more polished album with better lyrics and production. He sticks with the soul-sampling technique of The College Dropout but adds more string instruments, horns and pianos to give the album a more epic feel. The song “Roses” has a simple beat, but may be the albums most powerful song. On “Diamonds from Sierra Leone” Mr. West samples Shirley Bassey “Diamonds are Forever” as he discusses the issue of blood diamonds, ‘Good Morning, this ain't Vietnam still, People lose hands, legs, arms for real, Little was known of Sierra Leone, And how it connect to the diamonds we own’.

1. Food & Liquor – Lupe Fiasco (2006): I have never listened to an album more than Lupe Fiasco’s Food & Liquor. Whether it was playing in my ears as I fell asleep or coming back from the bar at State College, this album was always playing through my iPod. The intro on the album sums up exactly what you can expect to hear. You will hear the good, that’s the food. And the bad, that’s the liquor, from the mind of Mr. Fiasco. “Kick Push” is the story of a skater just looking to find a place to ride. The “Intrumental” is about a person who believes everything the TV tells him. “Daydreamin’” sarcastically mocks every other hip-hop artists rap videos, poking fun at how easily it is to predict what will be in the video to get it played on MTV. ‘And where's the champagne? We need champagne, Now look as hard as you can with this blunt in your hand, And now hold up your chain slow motion through the flames, Now cue the smoke machines and the simulated rain’. On Sunshine he drops my favorite verse of the entire album,‘Never met her before, But I think I like her like a metaphor’. On “The Cool” he tells a story of Michael Young History digging himself out of his grave after the gangster lifestyle ended his life early. Every track is well crafted and honest; “Hurt me Soul” opens with Fiasco stating he used to hate hip-hop. The production, done almost entirely by Soundtrakk, who is able to match Lupe’s rapping style perfectly with the beats. It is the most honest, compelling and intelligent album of the decade. Each song is layered with lyrics that will make you think and laugh, and deserves multiple listens. Listening to a Lupe Fiasco song is like watching an episode of Arrested Development. You constantly hear new metaphors with each additional listen.

Around the sports world...

1. Ron Artest admitting he drank during the game as a Chicago Bull

"I used to drink Hennessy ... at halftime. I [kept it] in my locker. I'd just walk to the liquor store and get it."

No wonder the Bulls sucked so bad. Their best defender was liquored. How doesn't then head coach Tim Floyd not know about this. It wasn't like he was busy game-planing.

2. Notre Dame Athletic director Jack Swarbrick

"The unique circumstances surrounding our program at the current time prevent us from making the commitment required to compete in a bowl game."

What situation? That your embarrassed to be invited to a lesser bowl. That is the situation. It has nothing to do with firing your coach. Plenty of coaches have been let go after the season and still coached the team. The sad thing is that the players had a vote and the decision was still made that they will not accept an invite. As a player on the team how do you let that happen? As a senior how do you not want to play one more game. Most of you will never play football again. Have your egos been inflated that much simply because you attend Notre Dame? Do you feel entitled to something better? Oh wait, of course, this is Notre Dame I forgot... Do you know how many other schools would kill to go to any bowl game. It is a privilege to get to play in a bowl and it shouldn't be disrespected just because your not happy about what day of the year you will be playing it. I look at the Duke football team and they would do anything for the chance to play in any bowl. You probably won't find a team with a better attitude and better character than the Blue Devils. Too bad Duke can't take Notre Dame's place in a bowl. They certainly deserve it more simply because of their attitudes to the sport of football. They wouldn't turn down a chance to play one more game. Notre Dame shouldn't either.

3. Coach K responding to Doug Gottlieb calling Duke "alarming non-athletic"

"He should be an expert on alarming non-athletic. So I'll have to take a look at that a little bit closer because it comes from an expert who actually knows what it is like to be alarmingly non-athletic."

Great, great answer Coach. What does it say for the rest of college basketball if a top 10 team is alarming non-athletic.

My Favorite Month...

I'm back. The start of December, my favorite month has invigorated me. So I return with my top five favorite Christmas movies. Tis the season... Starting in reverse order #5....

5. Gremlins

I know what your saying, "this isn't a Christmas movie". But oh it is. The Mogwai, named Gizmo, is an early Christmas present for his son. Chaos ensues when the Mogwai touch water or eat after midnight, but the essential principles of the flick are the bonds of friendship and family. (Also Phoebe Cates delivers one of the greatest speeches in movie history when she describes why she hates Christmas. On the unintentional comedy scale it is a 10.

Fav. Line: "And that's how I found out there was no Santa Clause."

4. Die Hard

Once again not your usual Christmas movie, but still damn good. I proposed a theory years ago that if you give Bruce Willis a gun the movie will be good. Well, this movie he has a gun during a Christmas party... So it is freaking amazing.

Fav. Line: "Now I have a machine gun. Ho ho ho."

3. How The Grinch Stole Christmas (the classic animated TV special, not the crappy Jim Carrey movie)

You can argue this is not a movie, but it is essential viewing for me during December. It maybe the perfect story to show the true meaning of Christmas. Great rhyming from the late Doctor and how can you not love the dog/reindeer. Good old fashioned holiday cheer

Fav. Line: "Maybe Christmas he thought doesn't come from a store, maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more."

2. It's A Wonderful Life

This was tough. I was close to making this movie #1, but while I do love it and i do need to watch it before Christmas it still couldn't top my number 1. Maybe in a few more years it will, but right now it is #2. I first saw It's A Wonderful Life in high school during Mrs. Cheffo's English class. Immediately I could not believe I had not watched it before. It touches my heart every time I watch it and Jimmy Stewart gives an amazing performance as George Bailey.

Fav. Line: "What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That is a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Mary."

1. Christmas Vacation

Could anything else be #1. Cousin Eddie, Clark Griswald, family members yelling, angry neighbors, crazy squirrels, disgruntled employees, it has everything you want out a good Christmas and more and then it also has the heart to tie everything up in a perfect package. I don't know what any of what I just said means, but damn, its a great movie. It is the one that me and my family watched more than any other movie each holiday. We know all the lines and all the great moments, but yet we still watch and we still laugh. Maybe because it is so relatable to our holidays. Maybe that is why it is so good. Every time I would head out into the cold to hang Christmas lights with my dad I am reminded of the scene when Rusty has to unknot the giant ball of lights for his dad. I was Rusty. I had to untangle the lights.

Fav. Line: "Hey. If any of you are looking for any last-minute gift ideas for me, I have one. I'd like Frank Shirley, my boss, right here tonight. I want him brought from his happy holiday slumber over there on Melody Lane with all the other rich people and I want him brought right here, with a big ribbon on his head, and I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, fore-fleshing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is. Hallelujah. Holy shit. Where's the Tylenol?"

Six Things...

Definition of Bitesies - To take a bite of someone's food. These are the six rules of bitesies in grand detail.

Six things you should know about… bitesies
Team 732

1. Bitesies shall be limited to one mouthful or fork/spoonful unless second bite permission is granted from the eating party.

2. Bitesies must be called before more than 2/3 of the food item in question has been consumed by the owner of said food item.

3. Steve doesn't participate in bitesies...ever
3(a). EVER!
3(b). Unless Pat just calls bitesies and takes a bite, in which case Steve unplugs the Xbox.

4. Unless approval is granted only one person may act on the right of bitesies per item of food.

5. If you call bitesies, you must be fully prepared to reciprocate the bitesies on your own food item.

6. Patrick Galindo has exclusive rights to Prima Bitesies (i.e. Mr. Galindo has first 'dibs' of bitesies on any food item being eaten by any of the roommates, in fact any one ever who is eating food). Also under this rule, the right of Prima Bitesies supersedes rules 1-4, ergo Patrick has the right to act on bitesies even after someone else has on any item of food, can bitesies the last bite of food, and there is no limit to the size of said bitesies.

The Very Best

I have never been to the place that serves the world’s greatest cup of coffee or the best apple pie. I don’t know where these places are. My travels in life have not led me to sample these items, but I have found the location of one such beverage that is better at in Durham, N.C. then any other place I have ever consumed the drink. It is so good that I will make the claim that it is the world’s greatest. Yes people you should travel from wherever you live to Durham, N.C. to try the best root beer in the world. The Chipotle on Erwin Road has the world’s greatest root beer. The best Barq’s root beer pours of the soda fountain at this location. I was as shocked to taste this liquid delight as you are to read that the best root beer resides in North Carolina. But it’s true. I wouldn’t lead you astray.

It's about time...

… for a new Kanye West album, not another 808s & Heartbreak but a rap album. Ye hasn’t put one out since 2007s Graduation and with no new album scheduled for this year I must look to 2010 for a new West album. I can only hope he has something planned. Why the sudden need, well, Jay-Z’s BP3 leaked early and I wasn’t blown away. It made me think that I have not been blown away by a new album in a long time, THAT SUCKS. The only other album I’m excited for this year is Lupe Fiasco’s L.A.S.E.R.S., but that’s not coming until December and his stuff has a history of getting pushed back. So I’m left with the hope that Kanye is in the studio right now (we know for a fact Steve is, even though he wants us to shut it down). Four albums. Four classics.

And yes, I am listening to Kanye as I am writing this.

Album Rankings
1. Late Registration (Heard ‘Em Say, Gone, Roses, Diamonds are Forever)
2. The College Dropout (Family Business, Two Words, Jesus Walks)
3. Graduation (Flashing Lights, Stronger, Good Morning, Can’t Tell Me Nothing)
4. 808s & Heartbreak (Welcome to Heartbreak, Heartless, Robocop)

For your listening pleasure my favorite all-time Kanye song - Family Business from The College Dropout.

Pt. 2...

So I hear this rumor (from Lauren, check out her blog, The String Bean) about a new Wal-Mart that just opened and the urge to check out its $5 bin hits me across the face. I walk in and the place is huge and everything looks brand new, but I left disappointed. THERE WAS NO BIN. Yes, they had $5 movies, but they place them on the rack instead of a big bin. You don’t get that feeling of rummaging and hunting for that majestic movie that may or may not exist. What is the world coming to when you no longer have movie bins in Wal-Mart?

Needless to say I still purchased a movie, The Rainmaker for $5... But it just wasn’t the same.

$5 Binning...

There is a tale, I kid you not, about a man, who made a journey that he never expected to go down as one of the greatest binning explorations in history. Now before we go further I must explain binning for those of you who are unfamiliar with the art form.

The only reason I feel warrants a trip to Wal-Mart is to go binning. Each Wal-Mart I have ever visited has a $5 movie bin, filled, sometimes to the very tip top with movies old and new, good and bad, classics and straight-to-DVD. Now to fully commit to binning one must arrive with the intention of reaching the bottom, no matter how it may look to others. Even if there is already someone hap-hazardly rummaging through upon your arrival, your must not back away scared. Plant your feet, plunge your hands in and begin searching, even if you intrude on others. You have a goal - to find the best $5 movies possible- come hell or high water.

Now you don’t always need to reach the bottom to succeed in your mission. Sometimes its easy to find the gem your looking for, other times you leave empty handed. It is the risk you take.

My last attempt binning was a fail. The bin was full of straight-to-DVD releases and old westerns, as well as a large amount of Spanish language films. I left saddened. But a few days later I received a phone call from a friend. He had been binning and returned with one of the greatest hauls I had ever heard of.

I have had my share of successful missions returning with Trading Places, Van Wilder and Swingers. But my friend called me with a haul that toped every binning quest I had been on. He left with a $25 haul. FIVE MOVIES!!! Incredible. They were - Spiderman 1, My Cousin Vinny, American Beauty, Dumb and Dumber and Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang. The names speak for themselves. This binning exploration took 15 minutes. He committed, he succeeded and will go down in history as one of the best binnings ever. Thank you G for setting a standard for everyone else to live up to.

WE ARE...BETTER

We are... better than your school. But keep disrespecting us. Sporting News has us 12. The AP has us 9. WHAT!!??!! Ole Miss is higher than us. COME ON! In the Coaches Poll we are 8. It's cool though, because nobody wants to play us at home.... Penn State!