Breaking the Cubs Curse!!!

Ok, so as you may know I used to work for the Division of Intercollegiate Athletics at the University of Illinois.  My title was Assistant to the Associate Athletic Director, but my duties were basically two-fold.  First, I was responsible for group sales at the football and basketball games.  I organized the corporate tent parties in the parking lots for football and managed the large groups for basketball games. 
But my main duty was to oversee the baseball operations.  I scheduled travel, helped with player scholastics, monitored the NCAA rules requirements, handled the budgets, and wrote the Big 10 conference schedule for all the teams.  It was fun job for sure.
One day I was sitting in the office and Jim Lefebvre called.  It was 1992 and Jim was managing the Chicago Cubs at the time.  I had gotten to know him a little as his son Ryan played baseball for Minnesota and our paths crossed at games and meetings.
Jim says to me on the call, "Todd, I was thinking about how we can break the Billy Goat Curse at Wrigley.  I know you guys have an indian Chief at Illinois.  How about we have this Chief come up to Wrigley, smoke his peace pipe in centerfield before the game and he can lift the curse."  I told Jim that first of all the Chief didn't smoke a peace pipe, and secondly, the UI had just announced the Chief wouldn't be appearing in public anymore due to the beginning of the "Chief Controversery."  However, maybe I could convince the Chancellor to allow the UI band to come up to Wrigley to and play the national anthem, and then bring the chief along to dance.  
Jim said that would work, and let me know when they could make it and the Cubs would take care of everything, transportation, tickets, food, etc.  So, I called our Associate AD to share the invitation.  He said he would have to ask the Chancellor and would let me know.  A few days later the request was denied.  I called Jim and said, "sorry, the Chief can't make it."
Jim's head was always spinning, he said, "Todd, I know, have that Chief smoke his peace pipe in front of a picture of him, then bring it up to Wrigley, and we'll hang it in the clubhouse."  I reminded Jim there was no peace pipe...and then said "sure, we'll bring it up next week."
So, Coach "Itch" Jones and I headed to Wrigley Field the next week, photo of Chief Illinwek in hand.  We got to the stadium and it was raining.  The players were in the batting cage under the bleachers and we sat in the dugout talking to Jim.  He assembled the players in the clubhouse and proudly hung the photo of the Chief, saying "the curse is broken."
We went up to his office after the ceremony and talked for awhile about his job, the Cubs, and his most recent dilemna.  Seems future Hall of Famer Greg Maddux's contract was ending that year.  Jim said the club owner, the Chicago Tribune, had asked him to put together stats justifying not signing Maddux as the highest paid pitcher in baseball salary.  Jim pulled out some stats and said, "I don't know how I can answer this.  Take a look at Greg's opponent batting average.  First inning .189, second inning .181, third inning, .175, and showed us stats where opponent's averages dropped every inning until the 8th inning, where it then came up to about .185.  Amazing stats.  Jim said, "This guys is simply the best pitcher I have ever seen, how can I tell the Tribune not to pay him what he is worth.' 
Maddux went on to win the Cy Young that year.  And was traded to the Braves.  But it was great to get an insight into the struggles a major league manager has when he has to keep a great player from leaving.
Well, as you know they didn't make the post season that year, or any other year until 1998.  And as you also know, they still haven't made it to the World Series.  But, it's nice to know that they have tried almost everything to break the curse.  Maybe if the Chief would have brought that peace pipe up to Wrigley....

Stories from the West Side and other places!

I truly have a lot of fun working on local shows.  At the moment I have finished producing two shows in the past six months, started a third and am about to begin a fourth.  Maybe the best thing about producing the latest show, West Side Story, is that it is bringing back a lot a great memories. 
West Side Story is as old as I am!  Literally it was released on Broadway the year I was born.  So I guess I've grown old with it!
My mother was a frugal Greek woman.  She looked for bargains everywhere, complained when the price of meat or milk was too high, and often outfitted my brothers or I with clothes from the local Thrift Store.  In fact I'm pretty sure the reason she volunteered there was so she got first crack at whatever was donated that week.  We didn't know any better.  Maybe it was because fashion wasn't a hot topic in the early 60's. 
My mother loved musicals.  In particular she loved Sound of Music, Funny Girl and West Side Story.  She owned about 5 record albums.  Those were those plastic black things that we put in a "record player" and a needle played the music.  Imagine that! 
She would borrow one of my brother's record players and play her favorites every day.  And West Side Story was certainly one of her favorites.  I knew the words to "Tonight", "Somewhere", and "Maria" before I knew how to sing my "ABC's" or really any other kid song.She had great taste. 
West Side Story has simply the most amazing music of it's era.  And I am absolutely loving the fact that I get to listen to it every night at rehearsal.  To make things even better, our cast is a collection of high school students from 14 area high schools.  The best of the best.  And to listen to them sing is truly heaven.
One quick aside, I knew the story to West Side Story so well that when I read "Romeo and Juliet" in my 8th grade English Lit class I asked the teacher why this Shakespeare guy ripped off West Side Story.  :)
The performances will be in June at Parkland Theater.  Sue Aldridge and Becky Murphy are directing and teaching the choreography.  I promise it will be wonderful.
In the meantime, I'm just having a nightly flashback to my youth. 

Judge and Jury no more!

I have a bad habit.  One I am working very hard to break.  I have been way too judgemental in my life.  For all of you I have judged, I am truly sorry.  I'm not sure where I got into that habit.  I don't remember being overly judgemental in high school  Maybe is was because I didn't really think I was anything special back then.  I was an average athlete and a slightly above average student.  I wasn't president of anything and rarely was the team captain.  I had plenty of great friends and really wasn't one of those people who needed or wanted to be hang out with the "popular crowd." 

But somewhere along the way I became overly judgemental.  I think it was in part due to a realization that I wasn't a good or smart as I thought I was. I started to get myself involved in things where I was the leader and I really wasn't ready to lead.  So I think my judgement came from a sense of insecurity on my part, a defense mechanism to find fault in others so that I could rise above them.

At that time I wanted to hold in everything, manipulate the process of whatever I was working on and not delegate the details.  In part because delegating would reveal that I wasn't capable of whatever I was tasked to lead.  It's truly funny to me now how afraid I was to delegate, because now I tend to over delegate. 
Understanding how judgemental I was came in part from my new found faith.  I don't lace scripture often in this blog, but I will now as it emphasises my point.  I was reading Matthew and came across this:

  “Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." Mathew 7: 1-2

And it started to help me begin to realize several things.  First, others were judging me just as harshly as I was judging them.  Second, what business of mine was it to somehow rank, place or evaluate other people's abilities.  The more I thought about it and talked about it with my friends, the more I came to realize just how destructive I had become.  For those that know me well, I'm sure you have seen this in me.  For those that don't or maybe have only known me the past few years, maybe this is a surprise. But the truth is I let my mouth serve as my weapon and I made ill advised comments in many arenas in my life. 

Now I know that this is like many other forms of addiction.  And like other addictions there are people I may have hurt or disappointed who now have fairly judged me as someone they don't want to be around.  But, like other addicts, all you can do is press forward one day at a time, repair relationships where you can, and make sure that new relationships are built on a more firm foundation. 

Keep the change!

Oranges!

Ok, so since this is my blog, it's ok if I think something is the greatest gift, food wise, from God.  And I just happen to think there is no finer food in this world of ours than oranges.  Of course I'm partial to the color orange being an Illini and all, but that's not why I love them. 
Oranges are the perfect combination of sweetness, texture, ease of consumption and overall flavor.  Not all oranges mind you.  I'm very much biased toward navel oranges.  I've eaten more than my share in my life.  And this time of year is my favorite for two reasons. 
1. The weather warms up, and I truly hate cold weather
and
2. Oranges are in season. 
(3. would normally be the start of March Madness, which I love, except when my team is playing awful and I know it will be an early exit from the tourney)
So why an orange vs say, all the other fruits in the world
Here's my logic. Let me take a few popular other varieties.

Apples - Good flavor.  Not too juicy.  But after a few, they are just boring.  They are good alternatives to Oranges in the off season.

Peach - Come on, just what do you do with the pits.  They are good, but often too messy.

Nectarine - Hard to get a ripe one.  Nearly perfect, but once again the pit gets in the way.

Tangerine - Love them, however one tangerine does not equal one orange in volume or flavor.  Often have seeds as well. 

Banana - Just not enough in each serving.  Again ok, but boring after long stretches.

Pears - Probably biased here because they are either not ripe enough, or too ripe.  Hard to get the perfect pear.  But good when you finally get one.

Tomato - Yes a tomato is a fruit.  Love them off the vine!  My second favorite to oranges when they are in season. 

So, that''s my lesson for the day.  Oranges Rock!  (and a good gift idea as well if you are wondering what you should buy me! )

Keep the change!

As the ball bounces...35 years in striped shirts

Many of you know that I referee basketball.  In fact I am completing my 35th year refereeing basketball this season.  That is a long time!  I played basketball in high school and got to know a few local referees.  They encouraged me to get started, and when I came to college I saw a poster for jobs on campus refereeing at IMPE (that's the ARC for the newer students).  I estimate I have officiated over 4,000 games in my life.  More than 1000 of those were in my first four years when it wasn't uncommon for me to referee 8-10 games a day.  There were always games to work in the intramural program and the park district.  And high school games at the freshmen level never ended. 
You figure that out in time spent and you get over 166 twenty four hour days spent on the court and when you include travel time, waiting time, clinics, meetings and seminars I have probably spent close to a year and a half of my life with basketball.  I guess I should have learned something in that amount of time.
Some of my very best friends are referees.  LOL, that is the kind of comment that will get you committed.  But it's true.  There is a sort of fraternal bond that comes from suiting up in the stripes and taking on the nightly challenge of officiating the perfect game.  Now I'm not saying at all I have ever accomplished that feat.  But I've tried, and along with my partners have come close a few times.
I get asked a lot what the hardest call in basketball is.  TV announcers will say it's the block/charge.  What do they know?  It's certainly not the easiest call as it tends to happen quickly.  But it's not the hardest.  I tend to think half court traps at center court are hard to get right.  Largely due to the fact you can't always get in good position to see the play.  There are lots of bodies between you and the action so it makes it harder. 
I've learned a lot about life running up and down wood floors.   I want to share with you some of life's lessons I learned officiating basketball.
1. Rules are important, but they shouldn't rule your life.
The game is filled with rules, traveling, double dribble, in bounds, out of bounds, back court, 3 seconds.  But the rules are written to make sure someone doesn't gain an unfair advantage.  I think we should live our lives that way too.  If you think about the rich getting richer and poor getting poorer maybe that makes more sense.  If a player is straddling the paint, and he doesn't get the ball, technically it's 3 seconds, but in fact he or she hasn't gotten an advantage.  Sort of like the person who drives 70 in a 65 speed zone.  It's broken rule, but ..
2. When you hustle to get in good position, you're more likely to get the call right.
Basketball officiating relies on you seeing the call correctly.  If you get yourself in the right position to see it, you're more likely to get it right.  If that means moving a bit to the left or right or running just a little bit faster, then you need to do it.  Life is like that too, sometimes we sit back and wait for life to knock on our doors.  If you get up off the couch and work hard to interact with the world, you're more likely to get life right.
3. Trust your partner.
In basketball officials have areas on the court that are your primary area of responsibility.  So for example if you are under the basket, your primary area may be in the lane.  When you are an outside official, your primary area might be the top of the key.  We get in trouble as officials when we try to see and call fouls in someone else's primary area.  In fact studies show 75% of calls made outside your primary area are wrong.  So, you have to trust your partner to make the right call.  Hmm, doesn't that seem to carry over to work, relationships and family?  If someone is focused on something outside of your "area" isn't it more likely they may get it right? 
4. Let the game come to you.
Don't confuse this with my earlier point of getting in good position.  What I mean by this is that sometimes we try to force our will on the game.  We start calling every touch foul, every violation, every little thing that happens.  Instead, sometimes we just need to let the game flow.  Stay focused on our responsibility and react to the action on the floor instead of creating action.  I know in my life there are times when I have tried to make things change that may not of needed changing.  You may call that stubbornness.  Life is more fun when you interact with your surrounding rather than constantly react to every little change.
5. Even when you're right, sometimes you're wrong.
I said earlier that I've officiated over 4000 games in my life.  Just imagine that in an average game the referee might have to make 50 decisions.  Did she travel?  Was that a foul?  Did the clock expire before the shot?  I'll use 50 for this example but I'm guessing the number is much higher, maybe 100 decisions per game.  Anyway, I can honestly say I have never tried to change a game or change a call based on the team, the coach, the player, the circumstance, based on anything.  Have I missed a call?  You bet.  I probably miss  2 or 3 or more every game.  Sometimes I just don't have the right angle.  Sometimes I see the play and don't react quickly enough.  Sometimes I see it and decide to let it go.  But I don't get them all right. 
Do the missed calls haunt me?  Not really.  It's part of the game and I'm only human.  For the most part I have forgotten about the game within a few days whether good or bad.  Not that there aren't calls and games that haunt me.  Using the earlier example I said there 50 calls a game over 4000 games, that's more than 200,000 calls in my life.  Of those 200,000 there are 4 calls I made that I think about. They happened at important times in the games making them more memorable.   Did I call them right? For 3 of the 4 I think I did.  However, I may not have been in the right position.  I called what I saw, and others saw it differently.  For the 4th call, I would say I just flat out called it wrong.  But, just like in life, when you thought you made the right decisions based on the information you had at the time, you still may have made the wrong decision.  Basketball is no different.
6. Even when you're wrong, sometimes you're right
On the flip side of the previous argument is the idea there are calls in basketball I thought I got wrong that later proved to be right.  Again, it may have been a guess, a result of not being in the right position, but in the end, it was the right call.  Or maybe it was a technical foul when a coach or player crossed the line only to find out later they were drunk, or high or having other issues.  So, it's OK to guess once in a while and make the best choice you can.
7. But, when you know you're wrong, admit it and move on...
In basketball there are no do overs.  There are times when you just flat out anticipate the action and make the wrong call.  It looked like she was going to foul, but didn't.  Or maybe it looked like the home team was going to tap the ball out of bounds but didn't.  Unfortunately, once you blow the whistle you're stuck with the call.  And sometimes your mouth gets ahead of your brain and makes a call that your brain doesn't agree with.  With an out of bounds call your partner (trust your partner) can help you.  But with a foul for example it's pretty hard to take it back.  So, you live with it.  If a coach asks me what I was thinking, I may just say
"I may have missed that one."  Great coaches understand and move on.  Great referees do the same.
I've had lots of fun blowing the whistle.  It's a great game to watch and be a part of.  But then, so is life in general.

Goodbye to Brother Ralph D. "Dud" Daniel. A true gentleman, brother and friend!

So today I got the official word that Ralph D. "Dud" Daniel has joined our heavenly father.  I thought I would share some "Dudley" stories with you all.  For my friends who aren't "fraternity men", Ralph Daniel served our national fraternity for over 60 years.  He was a charter member at our chapter at Arizona in 1947, and became the Executive Director of our national fraternity, Phi Kappa Psi, shortly after that.  He served as assistant director for "Dab" Williams, who is a legendary alum from my own chapter at Illinois.  In his 63 years of service, Dud became known to all as "Mr. Phi Psi."   He lived and breathed our ideals, our morals and challenged us all to become better MEN.   Not just fraternity men, but MEN who contributed to our communities, raised our families, and made this a better world to live in.

I first met Dud in 1977.  He attended a district council meeting in Champaign.  I was a newly initiated brother and was amazed at how he accepted everyone he met as a friend and a brother.  Dud put the "Gentle" into the word gentleman.  He had an ear for everyone he met, remembered names and faces like no one I've ever known, and became a friend for life at first meeting. 

As an undergrad I shared time at meetings with Dud several times.  My first Dud story happened in 1979.  Our chapter was celebrating our 75th anniversary and we invited Dud to come join us for the festivities.  Never one to miss an opportunity to spend time with undergrads and alums, Dud was there with no official duties, except perhaps to make certain the wine was properly chilled (FYI, if the wine wasn't chilled right Dud was known to drop an ice cube or two in the glass) and that everyone felt welcome. 
After the festivities on a Sunday morning, Dud asked if I would take him on a campus walking tour.  I proudly accepted, knowing full well that I was a walking encyclopedia on the campus!  About 10 steps into the tour Dud pointed out the grave of John Gregory, the first president of the UI tucked neatly next to Altgeld Hall.  I didn't know that was there, and how did he know? 
A few steps later Dud spotted Illini Hall, and said, "that's where Dab Williams came up with the idea of Homecoming."  As we walked by Lincoln Hall Dud pointed out the sculpture and carvings on the walls.  Finally I said to Dud, "I thought I was giving this tour, how do you know so much about our campus."  Dud apologized and said in his quiet, humble way, "Dab used to come back for homecoming every year and he would bring me.  Over the years, I watched many of these buildings get built, and Dab of course had seen nearly all of them built.  So I had a good tour guide!"
Thanks to Dab, Dud called our chapter "whiskey Delta" and Northwestern's chapter was "lemonade Alpha."  Dud loved joke with the brothers from Northwestern and Illinois about that topic. 

I was with Dud at a meeting in Chicago once and we were staying at the Union League Club downtown.  Now we stayed there because it was cheap!  Member's guests stayed there for a small fee, and we were both eager to save a buck.  In the morning we met in the dining room for breakfast.  Dud ordered a small bowl of fruit and a bowl of Raisin Bran Crunch.   Dud loved Raisin Bran Crunch, the perfect combination of flavor and crunch he said.  Anyway, when his bill came he reached for the tab, and as he looked at the bill his eyes opened wide.  His breakfast had cost $19.  He put it down and said, "for $19 you would think they would have picked the fruit fresh this morning, and maybe given me a few extra raisins."  Always the gentleman, Dud paid his bill, but he mentioned it to me several times that day and we joked about it as recently as last year at our annual convention.

There was a Fraternity Executive Leaders convention in Monticello every year, which is just west of Champaign.  Dud would always call when he came to town to meet for coffee or lunch.  One time he called and asked if I would join him in a tour of Alpha Tau Omega's new headquarters.  Virtually every fraternity leader welcomed Dud when he visited, and ATO was no exception.  I picked him up at the airport and we headed to the building.  We were a bit early.  Dud was always early, and one of the staffers volunteered to walk us through the building.  They had photos of past presidents on the wall.  Dud knew most of them and pointed them out to the ATO staffer and I.  We were escorted into a large meeting room with lots of ATO paraphernalia.  Dud looked at every thing, and then said to me, over here is hole in the floor where new initiates rise from the grave to become reborn.  And behind this wall is a badge that lights up with all of the fraternity mystics.  And he pointed out several other things.  Now I don't know if he really knew this, or he was just having fun, but I guessed from the stunned expression on the ATO staffer's face that he was pretty close to the true meaning.  I had another internal chuckle as I watched Dud show off his fraternal knowledge to an innocent stranger!

A few years back Dud returned for the 100th anniversary of our chapter.  He had a very low key role presenting an award, but served as wine taster and reception host.  Once again on the Sunday after the ceremonies Dud wanted a walking tour.  This time I chose something that was built in the last 25 years.  We walked through the Japanese gardens located to the west of the UI President's house.  There are over 1000 floral displays there.  I thought it would be a leisurely stroll through the grounds, but no, Dud had to stop and see every single flower.  What I thought would be an hour walk turned into a 3 hour lecture about gardening.  Who knew he knew so much?  But it was a wonderful afternoon.

I was fortunate to know Ralph Daniel and spend time with him every time we were at the same event.  He always found time to talk, even though there may have been 500 at the event who wanted to do the same.  He was graceful, caring, engaging and loving.  He never met a brother he didn't like, although he didn't understand a lot of them.  And he has made my experience in Phi Kappa Psi better, just because I knew him.

Dud had a charge he gave us all at most of the meetings we attended.  I'll share it now as it is how many of us were introduced to him, and challenged by him:

"Let us be what we say we are.  A Fraternity, not a club, based on ideals and not expediency and run by men and not boys."

And our fraternity yell:

 "High, High, High, Phi Kappa Psi, live ever, die never, Phi Kappa Psi."

I'll miss you Dudley.  Keep the wine chilled in heaven for me.

Harry Chapin Stories Part Two

So the big day came and I was off to Willard Airport to pick him up.  We picked up Harry and immediately took him to Kam's for a press conference.  It was in the basement of Kam's believe it or not and the local radio and TV stations were crowded in to hear the news.  The mayors were there with their bright gold keys to the city and the proclamations were delivered.  Harry had to leave for a minute to call President Carter.  As I said earlier, Carter named him to a President's Council that day and Harry called into the announcement. 
We had Harry for the day and we used all the time.  First he went to Garcia's Pizza.  Back in the day Garcia's was near the corner of Wright and Green where Coco Mera is now.  Harry put on a blue denim Garcia's shirt and sold "Gutbusters" for $2.  All proceeds to World Hunger Year.   Ralph and Joe Tomato were there and enjoying every second of having Harry selling pizza in their store.  After 30 minutes we went to Record Service.  For the younger generation, Record Service was on Green Street across from what is now Subway.  They sold real vinyl records and had a few hundred Chapin albums for him to sign and sell.  Harry's record company manager made sure we didn't run out, and even brought us a few hundred albums for give aways later in the day. 
Next stop was the Red Lion on Third and Green.  The Red Lion still stands today, although it's much different than the old days.  We charged a special admission there and Harry sang a song or three.  And then we went across the street to the White Horse.  There was a hamburger special there and Harry signed autographs for a fee.  All in all we raised about $1500 in two and a half hours.
It was 5:30 and time for dinner.  We sold raffle tickets to local sororities and had a special drawing the night before the show to announce the winner.  Our National President, Ken Potter had flown in from Oregon for the event and he was going to pick the winner.
A quick aside here.  About 3 days before the show Harry's agent called me and said he needed to know where Harry was going to be for dinner to put on the itinerary.  I told him that I didn't know as we were going to pick the winner in two days.  Well, he had to know now, so I had to "pick the winner."
So...I looked at the total tickets sold and from that determined that Pi Beta Phi was the winner.  Pi Phis was only a block away from the Auditorium and it would make it easier to get Harry to the concert on time.  So, Pi Phis won!  It made it somewhat awkward the night of the drawing as I had to tell our National President to "randomly pick Pi Phis" from our batch of tickets.  But he covered me well!
So we went to Pi Beta Phi for dinner.  The lovely ladies of Pi Phi sang a serenade or two to Harry.  And Harry leaned over to me and said, "go get my guitar so I can sing back."  I raced over to the Auditorium and announced "I need Harry's guitar!'  Of course the UI security team thought I was a lunatic, but one of his stage crew recognized me from my back stage ventures and said, "he's ok, he's a friend of Harry's."
So I took the guitar back and Harry sang to the women.  They sang back, he sang, etc, etc.
In fact I looked up at the clock and it was 6:55 and we only had 5 minutes to get back to the stage for the real concert. 
Harry put on a great show.  He brought his entire band for the concerts which he rarely did at benefits.  I remember Harry's brother Steve complaining because he didn't have a Steinway piano, and "how could a university as big at the UI not have a Steinway available,"  but that was the only complaint.  Between shows we had set up an appearance at Kam's.  Because the concert had sold out we worked out a deal where both shows were simulcast into Kam's.  And Harry was going to arrive and sing a few songs between shows.
So we head out of the side door of the Auditorium to walk over to Kam's.  Now picture 1800 people in line on the UI quad waiting to get in a show at 9:45 PM.  Harry and I were walking by and Harry, always the jester, says "hey what's going on here?"   Someone answered "we're going to a Chapin concert.  Harry said, "he sucks, don't waste your time."  And someone yelled "it's Harry....!!"  So we start running full speed to Kam's to get away from the crowd. 
We got back in time for the second show and afterwards had the band and Harry of course back at the fraternity house.  At about 3 in the morning, Tom Kappelman and I got Harry into the back seat of his car and drove him to O'Hare. 
We raised about $25,000 for World Hunger Year that day.  In today's world that would probably be in the neighborhood of $150,000.  And between the pizza slices, and the t-shirts sold, and record albums signed, touched a lot of people on one great day.
I suppose that the moral to this story is that it's ok to have a dream and follow it.  Harry dreamed of a world where every person had a food to eat for every meal.  Not because of food drives, but because people were taught how to raise and care for food and the land.  A few years later Harry died in an auto accident on his way to a benefit concert.  For me, Harry planted the seeds of always giving back.  No matter what the cost was to you in time, or effort.  I have tried to fertilize those seeds my whole life.
As Harry often said, "Keep the change!"