A cyber cry in a darkened sky: ‘Lets go, Cape!’
Social Media – I spent a 35-year career in education as a classroom teacher with his own column. I told my students, “I’m a journalist on loan to this profession; I have no idea how this business works, but I do know in real life there are no matching, multiple choice and true or false tests. Everything is in real time and very unsettled. You have to be able to process a kaleidoscope of conflicting stimuli and respond intelligently every day all day long.” My first question coming back was always, “What are you trying to say?” Social media is a beast of a player in 2014, determining how we socialize, interact and track each other’s lives. I think it’s a good thing. In sports, it’s a great thing. How it works in terms of money and profit, I have no idea, I am the ultimate "Fredman for Free and worth every penny.” I do know that the relocation north of hundreds of locals into the bleachers of Appoquinimink and later Caravel to watch the Cape girls and later the boys win a state championship in lacrosse was high definition cyber connectivity at its best. Text updates were flying around the country. Students 40 years beyond graduation were hitting back the fans in the stands, “Let’s go, Cape!”
Take A Break, Driver 8 – An REM lyric: “... And the train conductor says take a break Driver 8, Driver 8 take a break we’ve been on this shift too long.” Last Wednesday in the closing seconds of and a few seconds beyond Cape’s 8-6 win over Saint Mark’s, their long pole defenseman, No. 8 senior Michael Adams, a 6-foot-3, 205-pound guy and a tight end on the football team, was playing “whack a gator” with Kyle Orton, who was on the ground with the ball in his pocket and not having a good time as Adams kept beating him like dusty rug from the family room. Cape players took exception. There was some posturing and that was that until the player heretofore and forever to be known as No. 8 showed up in the Cape stands at the championship game versus Salesianum wearing his Saint Mark’s No. 8 jersey. Word spread. “Can you believe No. 8 is in our bleachers?” I responded, “I cover high school, I’m not in high school,” but I believe anything and my guess is he’s the greatest kid in the world – or not – but he’s at the championship game, bought a ticket, and must deal with watching a team he feels his Spartans should have beaten go out and beat a team the entire state thought was unbeatable. I’d go home a wrap-check the retriever.
Cannot Grin or Bear It – I grew up two blocks from Connie Mack Stadium in a row house neighborhood known as Swampoodle, no connection to Poodle Beach in Rehoboth Beach. When I was 5, I thought Richie Ashburn was president of the United States, not Harry Truman. I knew the voices of By Saam, Gene Kelly and Bill Campbell on the radio. It was all summer background noise like a green trolley rolling down the track. The 2014 Phillies are five games below the waterline and the television broadcasts are unwatchable and getting worse by the game. The Nationals' F.P. Santangelo (sounds like he grew up in produce region of California) is my favorite color analyst – and he sits next to play-by-play Bob Carpenter, who is also top of the line. I’d choose to watch college rugby Sevens over the Phillies.
Snippets - The Los Angeles Kings beat the Chicago Blackhawks in Game 7 sudden death overtime and immediately my Facebook feed popped “Stanley Cup finals here we come,” and it was Jordan Lorah, a Cape lax player and swimmer and San Diego State graduate living in Huntington Beach, Calif., working for DC shoes, before that Quicksilver and Rip Curl.
The 11th DFRC Blue/Gold All Star 5K will be this Saturday at 8 a.m on the Irish Eyes course in Lewes. DFRC stands for Delaware Foundation Reaching Citizens with Intellectual Disabilities, a too-long and clunky designation, but the game itself is all about the hand-in-hand Buddy program, so please come out and support the cause. We need your presence and entry fee whether you run or not.
I like the Spurs, but I’ll take the Heat.
Go on now, git!
