Runners’ shirts are a tidal wave of messages, none of them political

A sea of shirts - I photograph running races. The T-shirts flowing past my camera are a tidal wave of messages, many of them promoting races, recognizing causes, or repping a college or professional sports team. And the backs of many shirts are covered with ads, and I wonder who actually reads them or if it is a subliminal thing. Virtually none of the shirts scream political messages, and I’ve never heard an issue argued among runners other than, “Was the course accurate? And why was the water warm?” I saw a shirtless runner covered in tattoos after the Rehoboth Beach Patrol 5K Aug. 10 on the Boardwalk. I’m pretty good at reading people, but they have to stop moving. But heading back to Lewes from Dewey or Rehoboth on a Saturday morning, it is a political message overload.

Family circle - At the Community Cares 5K Aug. 9, a mom won her age group, then headed back onto the course to escort her tween daughter to the finish line. The word exasperation is defined as intense irritation or annoyance. No one can close their eyes and grimace, eyes closed, wishing you would just disappear, like a teenage girl. Perhaps mom said, “Pick it up, the finish is just around the corner." All I heard was what the girl clearly said: "Don't talk to me!" I got photos, numbers and names, but what happens on the race course, stays on the race course. 

Brag sheet - Before the finals in a wrestling tournament, the athletes who are finalists are asked to fill out a brag sheet so their accomplishments can be announced. The biographies enhance the dramatic moment of weight class finals. Brag sheets on social media are both good and bad ideas, as some young athletes get overhyped, and they have nothing to do with it; rather, the proud parents or grandparents have become unpaid press agents. My family muzzles me at times, letting me know something good that happened – usually sports – adding, “Don’t say anything; just letting you know.” Moral of the story: You can’t control crazy grandpa unless the word acquiesce is part of his vocabulary. 

You figured wrong - Sometimes a person will preface a sports question to me with, “I figured you’d be the guy to ask because if anyone would know the answer, it would be you.” I instinctively put up the stop sign. “Whatever it is, I don't know. I’m good at recognizing erroneous information without possessing any actual information, if that makes sense.” But seriously, there are some sports wizards out there who can go deep on issues, and some of them are women who monitor football and baseball. 

Snippets - This column “People in Sports” has run since 1992 with no repeats, and it’s about people I deem important. A young dad walked around the bend at the end of a 5K race carrying his 2-year-old daughter and wearing a Beast of the East T-shirt. It was Larry Cassidy and his daughter Eva Marie. Larry is a volunteer wrestling coach at Sussex Central, and everyone loves Larry. He works as an account manager for White Cap Construction Supply. There is not another column in the country where a volunteer coach guy gets press coverage just by walking down the street carrying his toddler daughter. The Phillies are now up by 5.5 games over the Mets with 45 games left to play.  Heather Dinich, an ESPN senior writer and national college football insider, is just the best out there. No one else comes close to her analytics on college football. She has served as president of the Football Writers of America and is the mom of three boys. The Sussex chapter of the USLA won the Lifeguard National Championship for the second year in a row. Derek Shockro, the coach of the squad, is also a high school track coach at Sussex Central and understands how to fill up all the events to get the maximum points. When I was an RBP guard in 1976-77, there was no competition team. We were mostly from the football culture, specializing in riding rips to victims and snatching them by the hair. Tanner McKee, the Eagles’ backup quarterback, was 20-for-25 for 252 yards and three touchdowns in preseason game versus the Bengals. McKee is a Stanford guy and a prototype quarterback at 6-foot-6, 235 pounds. He earns $1 million per season to hold a clipboard. But he is a trade asset who could start somewhere else in the NFL. Mason Fluharty got his first major league save Aug. 10, in a 5-4 Toronto Blue Jays win over the Los Angeles Dodgers. Mason struck out Shohei Ohtani and got Mookie Betts to ground out, all with the bases loaded. Both Ohtani and Betts are former MVPs. Go on now, git!