Kicker's First Pro Tryout

On March 17th I had my first professional football tryout. My tryout was with the Toronto Argonauts of the Canadian Football League. The Argonauts to Canadian football fans are what the Dallas Cowboys are to American football. The "Argos" are not only the most popular team in Canada, but are also the also the most successful team. After originally scheduling a workout with the British Columbia Lions for April, I learned that a couple of coaches and scouts from Toronto would be in Baltimore looking for talent. I decided to throw all of my eggs in one basket. After a few emails with Toronto's scouting department, I had myself my first pro tryout. (I was super excited, since I had originally had scheduled one with an indoor football team, Reading Express, in January. But they decided to sign TWO former NFL kickers a week before my tryout, thus I was expendable.)

I arrived at Poly High School around 8:30am, and sat in my car listening to sports talk radio, and playing with my iPhone, praying that no one would notice me. As I got out of my car I realized that I stood out like a sore thumb. I ended up being one of fifty potential players that the Argonauts were going to workout that day, and only one of four white boys. However, it was not skin color that intimidated me (I have many friends who are black, and have played ball alongside many of them) it was the fact that there were kids there from big name schools: Maryland, South Carolina, UCONN, Ohio, Penn State. I kept thinking to myself that I had been watching these guys on TV several months earlier. There were also several UFL, and Arena guys there who were older than me and have been through many tryouts before. The fact that there was such talent at this tryout was a reality check for me.



Fortunately, the football community is a tight one, and many of these guys were nice, and made me feel like not such an outside. Nevertheless, I was still "kicker", not "John." The Assistant General Manager of the Toronto Argonauts, Chris Jones, was there, and before the workouts had even begun, he huddled us up together and said, "Gentlemen, this is a job interview. Your job interview, for a job with the Toronoto Argonauts." That's when it really hit me. "Holy Crap!" I thought, "this is real life!" Nevertheless, things got even more intense when it was made known that two agents (yes player agents) would also be there.

Coach Jones came over to myself, and the two other kickers (one kid was from Winston Salem State, the other was from Morgan State), and told us that we would not get a chance to kick or punt until after the position players would be finished, but that we could test. The kicker from Winston Salem and myself decided to test.

Looking back, I think that testing was the best thing I could have done. It gave me a chance to loosen up, and not put any pressure on myself. Also, I was able to socialize with some of the other athletes, which helped my confidence. Plus, I did pretty well for a "skinny white boy." My broad jump was 8'2. Which was better than several of the "athletes" out there. My vertical is helpless. At 6'3 I can barely dunk a a basketball with my lousy 26' inch vertical. (But hey, at least I can throw down. Right?) My forty time also had more to be desired for. I ran a 4.9, which as a kicker is not terrible. But it pales in comparison to my 4.7, which I ran 16 months ago. Finally, we ran the pro agility drill, (or 3 cone) in which I was ran a 4.4. Again, not terrible, but there is room for improvement. Regardless, my "combine" numbers were basically thrown out by coaches. They do not care how fast I can run, or how high (I mean low) I can jump, they just want to see that leg in action.



After our testing it was time for the position players to do their drills. While this happened, I sat along the sideline watching in awe as those tremendous athletes, from powerhouse colleges competed in one on one drills. I told myself as I stretched out and watched, "I'm sure as hell not in Fairfax anymore." Meanwhile, the other two kickers warmed up on the sidelines hitting punts and kickoffs. They asked if I wanted to join, but I politely declined. I needed my leg to be fresh, however, I watched as the kid from Winston Salem hit arching ball after arching ball into the light blue Baltimore sky. This intimidated me. The kid's good, but I don't see him as competition. The only competition you have as a kicker is between yourself and the ball. That's it.

As the one on one position player drills came to a close, Defensive Line Coach, Cory Stone, came over to the kickers and told us to start warming up. After stretching for a solid three hours, I decided that I should probably start kicking. (Since I hardly ever practice field goals.) I was feeling OK, my warm up kicks inside of 40 were accurate, but anything outside of 40 was sporadic to say the least. Finally Coach Jones, came over to us to lay down the law. "In the CFL we like our guys to be able to do both the kicking AND punting. We have a few guys who specialize in only one, but for roster reasons, we look for guys who can do both." This was a little daunting for me, because I have considered myself a punter since I was a junior in college. "Your gonna get 16 field goal attempts. Four from 40 yards out, four from the 45 yards out, four from the 50 yards out, and four from 55 yards out. Everything is from the hash marks, nothing in the middle. Then ten punts, followed by eight kickoffs" I could feel my stomach sink. "Seriously?" I though to myself, "I haven't hit a 55 yarder in over a year!"

The kicker from Winston Salem went first. However, it was clear from the get go that despite having a cannon for a leg, he was anything but accurate. The distance was there, but the poor guy could not hit anything down the middle. Maybe it was the pressure on him, but I felt horrible for the guy, as he finished only making less than half of his kicks. Maybe his performance lightened the pressure on me, knowing that I could exceed his performance. I was up next. A strange feeling overcame my body, as I felt confident for the first time in a long time. I calmly drilled all four attempts from 40 yards, all with great height and distance right down the middle. I was just going back to the basics, "head down, and follow through." Again, from 45 yards I calmly drilled my first three attempts. I was getting fired up at this point. However, on my fourth attempt from 45, my plant foot went a little to deep, and my ball started to hook. I looked up as I helplessly watched my kick sail wide left. "Whatever, the big kicks are up next." I told myself. I relaxed myself and booted my first two from 50, clean through the uprights. Fired up once again, I lined up for my third attempt from 50. Again, my plant foot slipped a little bit, and the hook was on....Wide Left. Frustrated from missing left again, I turned around and dropped a huge f bomb. I think that hearing the quite kicker drop an expletive surprised the coaches and the other kickers, and a few of them began to laugh. I composed myself and drilled my final kick from 50. 10/12, going into the 55 yarders was a huge confidence booster. Having not made a 55 yarder in over a year was little intimidating. My first kick came up just short. I gave up accuracy for power on the second one, and just let it rip. The ball came flying off of my foot, it felt good, it looked good, but the football gods had other plans. The ball slammed into the cross bar, and fell no good. "At least I got it there I told myself." Knowing that I still had punts and kickoffs left, and wanting to save my leg, I just lofted the final two kicks. The kid from Morgan St. was up next and despite his hard effort, he just did not have the leg strength past 45.

Next, Coach Jones told us that we would get ten punts from the other 40 yard line, with the goal to pin the ball inside the ten yard line. The kid from Winston Salem once again went first, a natural kicker, and not a punter, the poor guy struggled to get a spiral. After his ten punts, I was up. It took me at least five punts to get comfortable with the snapper and my drop. Regardless, my seventh punt made up for that. On my seventh punt I crushed it. I hit a nice high lofting spiral that turned over and crashed nose first on the ONE yard line, before shooting to the left out of bounds. That punt clearly impressed the coaches, and would go down as the best one of the day out of the three kickers.

Finally, came kick-offs. I had been standing around all day, my legs were dead, I was tired and sunburned. Then I received the best news of the day. According to Coach Jones, there is no such thing as "touch back" in the CFL, because the end zone is fifteen yards long, compared to the ten yards in American football. Therefore, the strategy is to kick-off from the 30, and send a high lofting ball to the ten yard line. Since this was the strategy my coaches at Mason had instilled in me, I felt confident. Nevertheless, I have been working hard on my kick-offs, and wanted to show off my leg strength. I sent my first kick-off flying into the end zone. Clearly impressing the coaches. However, I decided to do what the coaches wanted afterwords, sending the rest of my kick-offs high in the air to around 10 or 5 yard line. I only hit one out of bounds, which is a huge no-no, but I did out preform the other two kickers once again.

After my workout, I spoke with Coach Jones. He told me that I did an "excellent job", and that they are looking to bring in a "camp leg" for training camp in May, but still have more tryout locations to attend to in the next couple of weeks. For those who don't know a "camp leg" is hired to be fired. Basically sharing reps with the starting kicker during pre season so the starter won't burn his leg out. Coach Jones, then told me he would forward my game film, along with my stats from the tryout to the special teams coach of the Argonauts. I was pretty psyched to hear this, but I do know about the reality of pro football. It takes a while for anyone from a small school to get their foot in the door, one tryout does not mean anything. At the end of the day, I would give myself about a 30% chance of being called into training camp.

Nevertheless, my tryout was an incredible learning experience. To have the opportunity to compete against two other kickers, who came from D1-AA schools, and to out preform them is huge. I now know what the tryout process is like. I also know what I need to work on. I have to start making those 55 yarders, and get a little more consistent with my punts. Regardless of what happens with Toronto, it's back to the drawing board with me. My main focus continues to be getting that Master's Degree, but I will still keep working hard in the weight room, and on the field. The only thing that is going to change is the my that I am going to start emailing teams and coaches with more ferocity now. I have impressive "verified" stats from a tryout now that I can use as proof to show I have what it takes.

Finally, to those who supported me, and not called me crazy when I told them about this tryout, I thank you. I tried to keep it on the down low for a while, not to get anyone's hopes up. My parents didn't even know about it until the night before. I really want to thank my 592 brothers and the guys from work who texted me before and after my tryout wishing me luck. You guys were on my mind the whole day. Especially my neighbor Justin. J-Bones, whenever home from U. of Maryland, would take time out of his day to come to Sweet Air park and catch my punts, or film me. Whenever I had a bad day, he was the one to pick me up. Same for my friend Sean, despite the fact that a shoulder injury has sidelined his football career, he still goes out there with me, rain or shine, to snag my "bombs".

Thanks guys. I will be sure to let you know if I ever get I call. I most likely will not, but I'm going to keep on trying. God has a plan for me, and I know it entails much more than football. So, I'm not too worried about it.

That Other Hockey Miracle

I have decided to bring back the blog in memory of the XIX Olympic Winter Games, that were held in Salt Lake City, USA, ten years ago this month. I have always been a fan of anything international since 3rd grade Geography class. However, The Salt Lake Olympics, were the first Olympics that really caught a hold of me. Perhaps it was the fact that they were being held in the United States. Or, maybe I was just old enough to appreciate the true beauty and power that the Olympics hold over any other event in the world. I hold so many memories from these Olympics. I saw, for the first time, the sport of skeleton. I have been intrigued by the silly sport ever since. The American hockey team, who rose up from the embarrassment of four years prior; making it to the gold medal game on home ice. And just the awe and joy of seeing those red, white, and blue flags on every corner of the TV.

Nevertheless, with the good, also comes the bad. For the first time I was exposed to the dark side of sport. Before the games even began. There was a bribery scandal, in which certain IOC officials were given money to vote for Salt Lake City to host the games. Unfortunately, the bribes did not stop there. There was the controversy in pairs figure skating which culminated in the French judge's scores being thrown out and the Canadian team of Jamie Salé and David Pelletier being awarded a second gold medal.

Today, I will focus on a different story. I will write about a simple hockey game. Even those in the world of hockey turned their noses up at this game. It was supposed to be a slaughter, not even worth watching. Instead it turned into one of the biggest upsets in sports history.

Belarus was granted it's independence from the Soviet Union in 1991. The tiny land locked republic, boarded by Latvia (N), Ukraine (S), Poland (W), and Russia (E), only has a population of 9 million, and yet, 70% of the nation is covered by forests. Not exactly what you think of when one thinks of a hockey powerhouse. Well, powerhouse might be too strong of a word. Let's go with cupcake. To start the 2002 Olympic Games, the Belorussians were just that, cupcakes. Belarus limped through the qualification rounds with a 2-1 record, and with a 1-0 victory over Ukraine, they were granted passage into group play at the Olympic Games. Well that should be a story in itself right there! The tiny nation of Belarus with only 2,000 registered hockey players in the whole nation going to the Olympic Games! Not really, you see they were in fact being led to slaughter. Their opponents in group play would be all powerhouse nations. The Russians took it easy on their little brothers, beating them 6-4. Nevertheless, it was a different story when the Belorussians faced off against the home ice Americans. Uncle Sam's squad showed no mercy on the newcomers, defeating them 8-1! The Fins followed up the next night with the same tally. The Belorussians ended group play 0-3. With 22 goals allowed in 3 games!

If the Belorussians had anything going for them, it was the fact that every team was guaranteed one play-off game. You see, Olympic rules state that after group play, the number 1 team in group A, would play the number 4 team in group B, and so on. This meant that in the quarterfinals Belarus would play the number one seed, which meant that they would face hockey powerhouse Sweden, who was 3-0 in group play, scoring 14 goals in 3 games. If anything, the Belorussians were just happy to have an extra day in Salt Lake City. The day before the game, Belorussian coach Vladimir Krikunov reminded his players of the 1980 U.S. victory, although he didn't realistically think a team with only one NHL player could beat a Swedish team with all 23 players on NHL rosters. Krikunov just wanted his guys to have a respectable performance. Well, he got it.

On February 20, 2002 the quarterfinal match-up took place at the "E-Center" in Salt Lake City. The game, being the least attractive of all the quarterfinals, was slotted for an eleven am start. Maybe the Swedes were still sleepy, because they came out sluggish, never showing any hustle until the 3rd period. Belarus jumped out to an early lead taking a 2-1 advantage into the locker room after the first period. Sweden answered right back leveling the game up in the second period. The teams then traded goals at the beginning of the third period, leveling the score at 3-3. With just four minutes left in the game, Sweden had out shot Belarus by an unheard of margin of 44(SWE) to 18(BEL). The goaltender for Belarus was Andrei Mezin. Mezin had bounced around in the American Minor League system (AHL, IHL, UHL) for five years, before being told that he was not good enough for the NHL. Yet, on this day Mezin stopped 44 shots, all by NHL players. (So much for not being good enough, right?) With 2:30 left in the third period, Belarus had the puck and was carrying it up ice. Both coaches called for a line change, and Vladimir Kopat, who had the puck around center ice, 70 feet from goal decided, "what the heck, let's put one on net." What happened next - my writing skills can not do justice. Here this the Youtube link containing the end of the game. The goal comes at 1:40.

Belarus would hold off a vicious Swedish attack for the remaining two minutes, and would defeat the almighty Swedes 4-3. The upset would rank 3rd all time in Olympic hockey; behind the famed 1980 United States victory over the Soviet Union, in Lake Placid, NY. Along with Great Britain's only Olympic hockey appearance; in which they defeated the godly Canadians 2-1, in 1936 at the Garmisch-Partenkirchen Olympics. Overall, if there is one quote that sums this victory up, it comes from a Swede. Swedish captain Mats Sudin was quoted after the game, "I don't understand how we could lose against this team."



Other moments would also define these Olympics. Both good, and bad. Moreover, the fact that a major international event was staged on American soil, serves the purpose that we (as Americans) should not forget these Salt Lake Games as a historical event. We tend to think that these were simple sporting events. Nevertheless, these games helped to define us for two weeks in 2002. And for those ignorant enough to forget, February 2002, was just five months removed from that horrid day in September. We as a nation needed an event like the Olympics to lift us up and bring us together. The Salt Lake Games did just that.

My Mason Family

If there is one thing that I am going to miss/already miss about college, it's the family I had there. Nothing can compare to those brothers I had throughout my four years. No, I don't mean fraternity brothers. I mean real brothers, my teammates. I know I'm going to take a lot of crap for this but the difference between calling a social friend of yours a brother, and someone who you take a physical beating with everyday with is totally different. My teammates and I soaked out bodies in sweat, spilled out our own blood, and cried on each others shoulders. Yea, a lot different then downing beer bongs and hooking up with sorostitutes.

Now, your probably thinking, "realx guy, thats typical football talk." Okay, true, it is, but it is also real. There is nothing more real then having your teammate urge you on when you scream, "I CAN'T!" after doing 50 leg press reps, but you have to do 20 more. You don't feel those last 20, but somehow you get through them with the help of your teammates. There is nothing more real then looking up from the ground and seeing your teammate run over to the guy who just took a cheap shot at you, and seeing him punch the dude in the stomach. And finally, there is nothing more real than crying into your teammates arms on the 50 yard line. All are events that happened to me. Truth.

When I first stepped onto George Mason's Campus in August of 2007, I knew no one. I walked into the PE Building (now the RAC), after I had moved in, for my first football meeting. I slowly sank into a seat in the back, as I watched my future teammates laugh and joke with each other. Looking like a Freshmen in High School, I immediately kept to myself. That day we were distributed all of our stuff and had physicals and what not, still no one said a word to me. I eventually had to speak to a teammate the next morning, when I realized I had no clue how to put on my hip pads. Phil Adams was nice enough to help me out.

As August went on, I made some friends with the other Freshmen on the team, the upperclassmen still shunned us. It sucked, being 90 miles from home, no friends, no one even on campus, no car. The constant pressure of not wanting to suck, even though I was playing awful. As I was soon to find out, it was all a test. Your just not in a brotherhood, you have to earn your stripes. You earn them through putting up with your older teammates constant "shit" and abuse. However, once they see potential in you, your in the club. Being in that club has it's perks. As an 18 year old freshmen, my older teammates looked out for my every move: From which classes to take, to where to take my car for maintenance work, and even getting me as an 18 year old w/o a fake into a few bars! My older brothers are guys that I will never forget. As they moved on, they made me promise to them that I would continue to pass on the brotherhood to those younger than me.

I had some great times at Mason with my older brothers, but perhaps I had the most fun with my younger ones. As a Sophomore, it was my first year actually playing, and I befriended my future roommates. Now these guys I love with all my heart, but we were basically the same age. I really didn't take any of them under my wing, we were more like best friends who lived together, played together, and went to class together. It wasn't until I was a Junior, that I took someone under my wings, and made him my little bro. Basically, we played the same position, and when the coaches send the kickers off to a corner on their own, you can't just kick or punt 50 balls a day, that would kill your leg. Instead we talked. We talked about everything...from school, to family, and even talking about the tennis girls practicing in the courts next to us. We literally talked about everything. I am going to miss those bullshit practices so much. I am proud to say that I would have made my older brothers proud the way I took care of this kid. I administered his first drinking experience, my futon was always open to him any time - night or day, and I tried to give him the best advice one could. He's gonna be just alright.

I could go on and on, about all the crazy things we did. The good times we had, the times we cried, the games we won, the ones we lost. But my family experience at Mason will never leave me. I love you all so much. To my older brothers, (Hitch, Fink, Phil, Timmy, Kyle, Gardner, Schrank, PJ, Moss, McCartin - Thank you for being role models to me and showing me the way.) To my "siblings" (Carmichael, Bailey, Paul, Jack, Dumas, Maravich, Kem, Chris, McNiff, Tony, Derek, Hova, Eaddy, and DJ - We had some really tough times these past two years but we got through them by sticking together, and being a family. We also had some pretty good times. I'm gonna miss you all so much. And to the younger brothers (Beebz, Kimball, Jazzy, Grant, Will- You guys are so young, go forth and take on the world head on, no regrets. Love you guys. And last but not least, my little brothers, Lusk and Cory, I have taught you guys everything I know. I tried my hardest to be the best big bro to you guys that I possibly could be. Just want to let you know that I love you and go forth and kick the worlds ass. - Love all you guys #27.

Emotions That Only Athletes Know

Everybody cries, it's a natural part of life. Sometimes the best thing one person can do is have a really hard and deep cry. Okay, so your probably like, "why is he talking about crying? Someone's emotional." The main reason that I'm bringing this up is because after every NCAA basketball game I watched this weekend, the camera shoots to some poor Senior on the losing team just straight balling his eyes out. Now, this isn't the first time I've seen this. In fact, you see this every year. I remember I use to think to myself, "man, whats it gonna feel like when I'm done?" Well, as we all know - all things come to an end. And on November 9th of this year my trip ended. To dedicate so much to something and then have it taken...really just sucks, there no words to explain it. I broke down in front of my teammates and coaches right there on the 30 yd line. It was hardest I cried since 10th grade, when my grandfather passed. Yea, sucks, I now know how it feels.

However, I'm bringing this up for a different reason. I got stupid mad when I saw this video of Kansas State Senior Jacob Pullen break down after his last game. It's not the fact that he is crying. It's the fact that the reporter basically asked him "How are you feeling?" Are you serious right now? What kind of question was that? You gotta be stupid! I was furious at first. How do you think he's feeling? His last game is over! He and other athletes put four years of hard work and dedication EVERYDAY and boom its gone. Done. Over. What football was to me, was what basketball was to Pullen, and every other senior in the country, in any sport, club to D1, male to female, it was their livelihood.

After calming down a little I realized that the reporter isn't stupid, he's just ignorant. He never dedicated so much passion and love into a sport like that. He was just asking a serious question. This brings me to my second point. This so-called reporter may be an "expert" in the sport columns, but in reality he's not. Unless, you have ever thrown on a jersey at the college level you really shouldn't be considered an expert. Now, I'm not saying that you can't be a journalist or something along those lines, but please don't act like you know, cause you don't. You just don't understand what athletes go through, just they way I don't understand politics, economics, etc. Doesn't mean I can't blog or have opinions. Everyone can. I just hope no one ever would publish my work or voice about it, cause it's just not fair to the reader or the viewer. Just like it wasn't fair for Jacob Pullen to have to answer that question from a bush league reporter several nights ago.

Alright beautiful people time to go. Remember voice your opinions about whatever you want. Heck, voice them loud, but at the end of the day let the experts be experts, and respect that. Also, words to live by, "when it doubt, cry it all out." A good cry never killed a soul.

John and Sean's Excellent Adventure

Good weekend beautiful people! Whew, so after an insanely busy week, it's time to relax, and recuperate. No better way to do this than to get my write on. I have a pretty ridiculous story to share with you that involves running red lights, almost running out gas, and getting lost, you pretty much get the point.

So last Friday was suppose to be a chill night for me. My one roommate was out partying, the other was on a date, and the other was....really not sure. Regardless, I was the only one without any plans for the evening. Shocker, right? So, I decided I would get some quality work done on this sober Friday evening. Yea right. I started reading the Manly Art a book about bare knuckle prize fighting, for my Sport History class. Surprisingly it's a great read that teaches us a lot about early American culture. Anyways, I get about a 30 pages in and say to myself, "Whoa, this book is a lot like the movie Gangs of New York". So what do I do? I put in Gangs of New York. So much for getting work done.

So I am like halfway through the movie when my roommate Sean comes back from his date and goes, "Lets go play hockey!" I'm like, "What? It's almost 12?" As it turns out our teammate Jason is into roller hockey, and so are Sean and I. But Jason had a rink reserved at Dulles Sportsplex until 1. Regardless to say, I was down. So after printing out directions, and packing up our gear, we were off to DC to get our puck on. Or so we thought.

The directions seemed pretty straight forward. Sean was driving and had about a half tank of gas left. We were blasting some Blink 182 and cruising. However, as we were driving it kept getting later, and later, and later. We kept thinking that we had to be close but couldn't find the place. We decided to call our friend for directions. Let me just keep a long story short by saying we ended up in Manasses. Are you kidding me? How do you go from DC to the edge of Manasses? I don't know but Sean and I did it. By the time we fixed our mistake and got back on track it was like 12:50. So we called Jason and informed him that we wouldn't be able to make it. Jason then informed us we had the rink not until 1, but 2:30. Sean looked at his gas gauge which was on empty, and realized we were 20 minutes out. So what did we do? We went for it. Who gives up a good game of puck just because you might run out of gas in the middle of DC at 1 in the morning? Psh, come on. Puck is life.

So, Sean and I made it there at 1:15 (We definitely broke a few laws). We got dressed and played some puck. 35 saves, (only 2 goals allowed!) and a few bruises later it was time to go. Sean and I got on the road thinking we were gonna find a gas station. Yup, about 20 minutes later, no gas station, and oh yeah of course we were lost in DC AGAIN! I'm usually a calm and collected person, however, I was freaking out. Sean started running red lights, my eyes were gazed for anything, Sean's poor car was literally about to eat it. I see a McDonald's and think to myself, okay there HAS to be a gas station near there. Seriously, next time your out and about and see a McDonald's, look around, theres gonna be a gas station near by, it's common sense. I have never been so excited to have seen an Exxon gas station in my life! As Sean's car literally ran out of gas at the pump, I said a quick thank you prayer, and went into probably the shadiest gas station convenience store I have ever been in. Two Red Bull's, two Gatorade's, a bag of Skittle's, and a FULL tank of gas later, we were on our way home. Who cares if it was 3 in the morning and we were lost in DC, we had all that we wanted. Awesome food, a tank of gas, and oh yea a full playlist of Blink 182.

Being the two smart bros we are, we were able to navigate our way back to Fairfax. So at 4 in the morning, Sean and I pulled into our Liberty parking lot, and ten minutes later we were in bed. You might be asking yourself, "All of that to play a silly game?" My response, "Hell yes! It was so worth it!" So what was suppose to be a relaxing studious night turned into the complete opposite. And if I could do it again I would. I needed that time out there on rink just to let go, and be myself. There are few places on this earth where I can relax and let the world go. But give me a field of grass, a volleyball court/pit, or in this case a hockey rink, (oh and my basement) and for that hour or how long, I'm just a kid again, no concern about school, work, girls, etc. It's so nice to escape and just have fun. Even if does almost get you stranded in DC at 3 am.

Marketing Update:
Just wanted to give you a quick update about my post last week. My post last week was about how the topic of sex was brought up in my Marketing class. A very uncomfortable topic for an old man to be talking about around a bunch of 20 some year olds. Well, the prof did it again. I'm not gonna go into details, but it was very awkward. This old man needs to "cut the ish." Also, remember how I was gonna talk to the cute doodler girl that sits in front of me. I was planning on leaning forward and asking her for a pen. In reality I have six of them in my book bag. However, as I am leaning forward to ask, her phone goes off. Not just a slight vibrate, or soft ring tone. Lady Gaga's "Alejandro" blasted throughout our large classroom. Are you kidding me? I couldn't have worse luck.

Well partyy people, thats it for now. Be safe this weekend.

Needs vs. Wants

Yesterday was a typical business class for me, for the most part. We were just going through the normalities of an everyday business class, which for my thought process goes something like this:

-"That's a sweet tie the prof. has on today. I wonder where he got it?"
-"Postpurchase Dissonance? You mean like the time I bought the movie Atonement?"
-"I wonder what this guy drinks? Wine, Beer, Whiskey, all the above?"
- Prof:"Loyal Customers, are like loyal fans" Me: "Bull, know how many new Packer fans there are!?!?"
-"This girl in front of me is an amazing doodler, and kinda cute, maybe I should say hi" (I start to sit forward in my seat..."No, next time.")

So you get the point, I pretty much just think to myself the whole class, trying to pay attention to the best of my ability. So when the topic of a consumers needs vs. wants arose, some guy in the back wearing a suit and a backwards hat (yes, no wonder he was asking this question.) asked, "So for needs vs. wants, can we compare that to our own personal dreams and desires?" When I first heard the question I had no idea where the conversation was headed. I just thought that the professor was gonna be like, "For example you want a new jacket, but do you need one?" However, I completely shocked when some girl randomly replied, "you mean like sex?" Whoa, that was from left field, the whole class began laughing at the poor girl, nevertheless, the professor quickly restored order.

After, one of the most awkward moments I have ever experienced in class. We began to talk about how marketers are always telling you need this, you need that, you need to make him/her happy (whatever your taste). I began to think to myself, I don't really need anything. I consider my self a pretty happy bro in life. As I sat, I thought to myself, "Did I really NEED to buy those sweet red "hater blockers" I rock?" My first instinctive response was, "hell yea, those things fricken sweet." But in reality no. I don't NEED a sweet pair of shades, I don't NEED the coolest game, I don't NEED the latest and greatest. Those are all WANTS.

The only thing I really NEED in my life, is a loving family, a few good friends, and my dog. Yes, to those of you who know me well enough, you might be saying, "John, we all know that you love your beer, kicking, and car, mainly your brews though." Yea bros true that, but heres a lesson for all you beautiful people out there: "Just because your infatuated with something doesn't mean you NEED it."



I'm not saying that it's bad to have WANTS. As long as there good. Example, all I want right now is either a job or admission into Towson for next year. Those wants push me to be a better person everyday. It's good to have WANTS, even if they are material. It gives people motivation. Example, I really want to buy a nice bottle wine, instead of the cheap ones I've been buying. Make a deal with yourself. If I pass my test, or do well in my paper, I can treat myself.

So who thought that marketing class could make you think twice about your personal life? If you got something out of this great, if not that's fine. Just know next time you say, "I need a beer" you really mean "I want a beer." Til, next time partyy people, stay safe.

Kicker on Valentine's Day - Part Dos

So this time last year I wrote about Valentine's Day. You can find that here (http://lifewithkicker.blogspot.com/2010/02/kicker-on-valentines-day.html). Someone seemed pretty bitter that day. I don't know if he didn't get desert or what, but that's some pretty deep stuff. Well a year later my martial status is the same, not that I care, nor do you care. But something has changed my opinions about this so called, "holiday." Not sure whether it's because I am a year older, or maybe my mindset towards girls and couples has changed. Whatever it is, I can't pin point it. Okay enough of this ranting let's get to the point partyy people.

If you read the post last year, I made it very clear that I disliked Valentine's day. Now, not so much. Today, I won't mind the hearts, flowers, candy, lingerie, whatever you kids do these days. Because, instead of turning my nose up at couples, I am pledging to be supportive. I feel that this year more than ever, I have been around more friends who have a "significant" other. And from talking with them, and being around them in first person, I have concluded that having a relationship takes an "ish" load of hard work and dedication.

Another good thing about Valentine's Day are all the candy hearts, those things are delicious, and I'm sure my dentist is gonna hate me. But seriously, besides every non-single dude in the country's pocket, Valentines Day is good for the economy. Kay and Hallmark spend the months of December and February making the majority of their profit for the year, talk about busy season. Also, on a non-related topic. Bros, if you propose to your girl around Christmas time, or on Valentine's Day, your a total sap that just got taken by society and TV ads. "Every kiss begins with Kay?" Negative. "Every kiss begins with an ice cold Coors Light." Now, thats more like it!

So, what am I doing this Valentine's Day? Well I get to work! So, I am planning on a lot of forfeits tonight. C'mon guys you don't wanna play ball, you wanna be with your girl. Do it for me!

Well beautiful people I am out. So on this Valentine's Day, I salute you couples who make things work. Congrats. However, I just want to let you know that you have February 14th. Us single people get all the other 364 days! Take care and be safe partyy people.