Archives for April 2017

I like the  1976 (has it been that long?) movie “Rocky” for a lot of reasons.
 
The scenes of the city of Philadelphia, the music, most everything about the movie I liked.
 
The  Rocky movie carried many messages. One of the things I got and really liked from the film was the fact that Rocky didn’t care if he won the fight that ends the film. What Rocky wanted most, most of all ….he didn’t want to get knocked out. That was his goal. To stay in the ring, go the distance, be standing at the end of the scheduled rounds. He did,
 
You know sometimes there are things in the life of a person  in which they cannot “win.”  In my opinion there are times in which just staying in the ring, going the distance in a matter and to be standing at the end… …there is victory in that.
 
Just keep yourself from getting completely knocked off your feet, down and out. Just go the distance.
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October 4, 2016
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Love hurts, love scars, love wounds and mars any heart 

Not tough or strong enough, to take a lot of pain,

Take a lot pain, love is a cloud, holds a lot of rain

Love hurts…love hurts

I’m young, I know, but even so I know a thing or two

And I learned from you, I really learned a lot,

Really learned a lot, love is like a flame, it burns

You when it’s hot, love hurts…love hurts

Some fools think of happiness, blissfulness, togetherness

Some fools fool themselves; I guess they’re not foolin’ me

I know it isn’t true, I know it isn’t true

Love is just a lie, made to make you blue, love hurts 

I know it isn’t true, I know it isn’t true

Love is just a lie, made to make you blue

Love hurts   

 Anyone who has ever been in love and hurt from that relationship may say,                              

                                                               “I love you and love ain’t funny.”   

Can you remember the first time you were hurt in love?

Wasn’t funny, was it?
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March 3, 2014
Keep on,
​Larry Adamson

                         When I was seventeen, it was a very good year
                              It was a very good year for small town girls
                       And soft summer nights/ We’d hide from the lights
                          On the village green/ When I was seventeen

                        When I was twenty-one, it was a very good year
                  It was a very good year for city girls/ Who lived up the stairs
                          With all that perfumed hair/ That came undone
                                              When I was twenty-one

                           When I was thirty-five, It was a very good year
                           It was a very good year for blue-blooded girls
                           Of independent means/ We’d ride in limousines
                         Their chauffeurs would drive/ When I was thirty-five

                     But now the days are short, I’m in the autumn of the years
                                And now I think of my life as vintage wine
                              From fine old kegs/ From the brim to the dregs
                          It poured sweet and clear/ It was a very good year

When I was seventeen …it was a very good year….. it was…1959….
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November 12, 2016
Keep on,
​Larry Adamson

Might be a rock’ n’ roll addict prancing on the stage
Might have money and drugs at your commands, women in a cage
You may be a business man or some high degree thief
They may call you Doctor or they may call you Chief. 
 
You may be a state trooper, you might be a young turk
You may be the head of some big TV network
You may be rich or poor, you may be blind or lame
You may be living in another country under another name 
 
You may be a construction worker working on a home
You may be living in a mansion or you might live in a dome
You might own guns and you might even own trucks
You might be somebody’s landlord you might even own banks
                     
You  may be a preacher with your spiritual pride
You may be a city councilman taking bribes on the side
You may be working in a barbershop, you may know how to cut hair
You may be somebody’s mistress, maybe somebody’s heir.
                            
Might like to wear cotton, might like to wear silk
Might like to drink whiskey, might like to drink milk
You might like to eat caviar, you might like to eat bread
You may be sleeping on the floor, sleeping in a king-size bed.
                           
You may call me Terry, you may call me Jimmy
You may call me Bobby, you may call me Zimmy
You may call me R.J., you may call me Ray
You may call me anything but no matter what you say.
 
You’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You’re gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
 
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody. ​

​I like the lyrics……when the thought of you…..
   

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January 3, 2017
Keep on,
​                                                                  Larry Adamson

That is what a lady said to me this morning at my coffee shop. She was reacting to what happened this past Sunday at the Master’s golf tournament and something he did.

If you did not see the coverage Kuchar had a golfer’s dream. He had a hole-in-one on the 16th hole of the last day of the event. He hit probably an eight iron, the ball landed on the green to the right of the cup, rolled down a few feet and at the very end fell into the cup. Amazing yes. But for me that is only half of the story. 

Personally I can remember first seeing Kuchar when I was at the Master’s in 1999. At that time he was nineteen years old and still an amateur. He was there as the previous year’s U.S. Amateur champion is invited to play in the Master’s. His father was his caddie and  Kuchar always seemed to be smiling. Who wouldn’t, you’re a nineteen year old kid with your dad on the bag and you are playing in the Master’s. Get happy really quick.

But yesterday for me was more than just about Kuchar. It is what Kuchar did after his hole-in-one performance. He took the ball from the cup, to the roar of the crowd, stepped back,  took out what looked like a sharpie and wrote something on the ball. Then he turned and began walking toward the crowd. At that time I said from my big living room easy chair to my wife, “He’s gonna give that ball away.”

Side track here. Now I have been fortunate to have made two holes-in- one–well one not officially as I had the luck to be playing in Florida  and was playing by myself–so officially not a hole-in-one…my point is right now I know where both those balls are. They have been retired, will never see play again and I am not giving them away.

Kuchar walks to the ropes reaches out and hands the ball to a young boy in the crowd. He gave the ball to ten year old Owen Lackaby from Bradenton, Florida. The young boy was wearing a straw hat like legendary golfer Sam Snead always wore. Also, on that hat he had penned a button Augusta National had given out to patrons attending as a tribute to the late Arnold Palmer. The boy was stunned. The look on this young boy’s face for me was worth countless dollars. I about came out of my chair….”He just gave this kid the ball…look at this kid…he’s beside himself.” I was also. I even felt a lump coming up in my throat.

I like golf for a lot of reasons. I never played the game at all until I got out of college. I probably in my youth called it a rich man’s sport or even a sissy sport. My first year of teaching and coaching I was not married. I went with some fellow coaches on a Saturday to just kill some time. A fella coach (Jerry Bender) said, “Hey I got some extra clubs in the trunk come on you might as well play with us.–Thanks Jerry)  A love affair was born.  A great line that can be said about a lot of us who play the game is :How can one do something so poorly and enjoy it so much?” 

As I said I like golf for a lot of reasons. Seems even more and more as I have aged and also I have watched what is happening in the sporting world in other sports. Personally I cannot stand professional basketball. Baseball has pretty much left me. I might sit for a bit on a Sunday afternoon and watch pro football but I think that is more for me to get a short nap in my chair than what I see on the screen. Even big time college basketball is slipping for me. Slipping bad. 

I like a sport that respects another’s opponent.  A sport that acknowledges the skills of another, can even give them a high-five or a fist bump after doing such. I like a sport where a person can acknowledge their short comings on a given day and then not lay blame to someone else. I like a sport that in a sense self-officiates. I watched a player this past week thought possibly he had caused an infraction and was ready to penalize himself in something no one else had even seen. Compare that with too much of what one sees in society today. Some folks now throw a fit when even three different set of eyes (refs) call an infraction.   

I like a sport that remembers the past history of others who have been a part of that sport and the various great things that over the years took place in the sport. Names like Hogan, Snead, Nelson, Jones, etc. are not foreign to most of those who play the game today. Another side bar: I like most anything that is old being remembered–I guess that includes me–maybe why I like that–probably so.) 

I once remember a professional basketball player when asked by his coach to  try and perform a certain skill on the playing floor,  the player replied “do you know how hard that is to do?”  The player didn’t even know that his coach was in the Basketball Hall of Fame both as a coach and a player. Hey Bud, know a little history.  Go to the Master’s and you will see the  past has not been forgotten. 

I like golf because of the crowds, the people that come to view and support the sport. The father of that ten year old boy this was his 30th time to attend this event. He felt no qualms, reservations about bring his son to this event. He was not going to be embarrassed by those sitting or standing around him as they watched. I remember the first time I attended a baseball game in New York City at Yankee stadium and the behavior of the crowd. Seeing beer poured on people and language that would make a sailor (some) blush. I also remember attending a college basketball game at  Princeton University and I could not believe the four letter signs constantly being held up in the student section during the game. Not my idea of entertainment. The only sign I can ever remember seeing at a golf tournament was the many times color hair guy who would often try to standing behind the play and get on camera. You might remember that sign: John 3:16. Personally I have stood in the floor of the Roman coliseum  and I am not too sure we are much further along in behavior today.  

I further like golf in that one never knows the outcome until the very end. Like life. There can be times in which it looks like “it’s all over.” Thinking back to the winner’s play on that back nine and times it looked just like that. But he kept trying to hit the best shot he could under the circumstances he was in. Another similarity of life: “Just do the best you can with what is given to you at that time.” 
 
A friend of mine in an email he sent said about yesterdays Master’s : “Great day for all of us who have come short many times.” True and a great day for all of us when it looked like we might come up short. 

I once heard it said:
                                           “Great moments really aren’t great unless they are shared.” 

For me yesterday sitting in my chair, ice tea close at hand,  I watched a great moment in the life of  a professional athlete (Matt Kuchar)  and then I watched him share his  moment with another—–a ten year old kid…..and for me…that also was a great moment. 

                                                As the lady said: ” I love Matt Kuchar.”   

Lady…I think we understand why.
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April 10th, 2017
Keep on,
Larry AdamsonJust some thoughts: