Showing posts with label 1973 Leo Basketball Champs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1973 Leo Basketball Champs. Show all posts

Monday, February 11, 2013

Monstrous Handsome Basketball Manifesto




Had a bit of ague over the weekend. Thought I'd whine a bit, as is my wont.  I'm a male, you see and, by Jove's huckle, I'll vent splenetic to all and sundry my aches, pains, slights, disappointments and missed opportunities. 'Tis what we do!  I had the flu, dammit!

Woman!  Childbirth?   My eyes are rheumy and my joints ache! I have an elevated temp!  How can I recover worrying about other people?

With those wholesome thoughts, my umbicular vision curled natal-ly self-satisfying!  Now to my Basketball Manifesto!

Due this weekend's endothermic mishap,  I missed Friday's basketball game and hibernated away with Encore Western Channel Leo Sweats, toddies of Barry's Irish Tea laced with Lemon and honey, and a solid contemplation of my own

You see, early in my career as a Corinthian, a willful young colt was I, my dreams of becoming a 3-point dagger shooting, sky-high Prince-ling of Mid-Aire and backboard shattering hoop hanging Converse-All-Star Titan of the hard wood were dashed by one Coach Elmo Dolan.

We had "try-outs" in those halcyon days of yore and the twined oak branch coronas were doled out to not one and all, but those given the starting nod -A baker's dozen of 11/12 year old striplings adept with Naismith's leathery- orb.

Be-decked in T-shirt and baggy shorts and shod with Chuck Taylor Black High Tops I sprinted after a fashion ( dead last) and calisthenic-ly challenged my Temple of Christ with twists and turns and bends and stretches.

(Whistle)  Line-up, Gents! Here's Five balls!  They go in the baskets up there,  Take these balls . . .one at a time . . .and run as fast as you can shile dribbling the ball.  This is how you dribble the ball.  Set your feet so you are balanced  hold the ball even with your hip . . .drop the ball and pat it back down. . .. the length of the gym.

We lined up and counted off 1-2-3-4-5; 1-2-3-4-5;1-2-3-4-5; 1-2-3-4-5; 1-2-3-4-5 . . .I was in the first set of # 3's and each tossed a ball and asked to dribble the length of the court without fumble-tumbling or killing ourselves.

I took the leather orb and bounced it far above my hip and lost control of the ball and knocked two other guys out of their sync.

Use  the hand you usually  use, for Chrissakes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Jesus, Mary and the Lather!   Try again.  Try again.

The set of three contained three of my peers who would not only make the cut, but go on to high school fame and glory, win basketball scholarships at Loyola, Loras and Illinois State and go ont to achieve acclaim as civic and business leaders.

After all sets of candidates had been tested and tempered on the hardbood griddle with feats of passing, catching and shooting the basketballs, it was annoumced that thirteen names would be posted on the gym door - the following day.  Always, a ready welcome the good news, I immediately asked rhetorically, " So, the name Hickey gonna be on that list Mr. Dolan?"

Did you have polio a couple of years ago, Hick?

No, Mr. Dolan.

Spend a few weeks in an iron lung?

No.

You boinking Vicky Carr?

No.

Any more questions?

Did I make it?

Let's see . . .No Polio . . .Lungs Fine . . .No attachment to Vicky Carr . . . Nope.




Alas, it was not to be Vicky, or Hickey of the Hardwood and my interests require no hip or knee prosthesis, unlike the limber lads whose names adorned the list on the gym door at 81st & Honore in 1964.  I have that going for me.

However, I has the ague this weekend and it was really awful and . . .







Saturday, December 03, 2011

It's Still God's World, Pundits Notwithstanding - Milton and a Huge Loss in High School Basketball




Nine times the Space that measures Day and Night [ 50 ]
To mortal men, he with his horrid crew
Lay vanquisht, rowling in the fiery Gulfe
Confounded though immortal: But his doom
Reserv'd him to more wrath; for now the thought
Both of lost happiness and lasting pain [ 55 ]
Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes
That witness'd huge affliction and dismay
Mixt with obdurate pride and stedfast hate:
At once as far as Angels kenn he views
The dismal Situation waste and wilde, [ 60 ]
A Dungeon horrible, on all sides round
As one great Furnace flam'd, yet from those flames
No light, but rather darkness visible
Serv'd onely to discover sights of woe,
Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace [ 65 ]
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all; but torture without end
Still urges, and a fiery Deluge, fed
With ever-burning Sulphur unconsum'd:
Such place Eternal Justice had prepar'd [ 70 ]
For those rebellious, here thir Prison ordain'd
In utter darkness, and thir portion set
As far remov'd from God and light of Heav'n
As from the Center thrice to th' utmost Pole.
O how unlike the place from whence they fell!


Leo High School lost to Seaton on the hardwood last night 95-66. The Basketball team had more than a tough night on the fabled third-floor gym surface, as the Mother Elizabeth Seaton Bees stung the Lions mightily with steady 3-point, 2-point cannonades and wholesome foul shooting.

Between the freshman and sophomore games, I treated some of the gents to comestibles at the Fan Stand on the first floor - Chris MsS#$%^ (Leo 2015), "Hickey, you think we'll take the varsity?"

God only knows.

I missed the varsity game entirely because my daughter called for me to to jump start the automobile battery in her conveyance that only days ago I recommended she replace.

The jump-start worked and her Chevy is sitting outside of my window catching the last leaves of 2011. It will stay there until the lovely fruit of my seed coughs up some cash for a battery.

I read the scores before turning in. God spoke and Seaton swept.

My thoughts turned to Milton, old crabby blind Jack, who also had daughters, Oliver Cromwell's Latin Minister. Latin was still the lingua franca of diplomacy, Puritan bigotry notwithstanding.

John Milton is arguably the greatest voice in English. Less the Steven Spielberg ( give 'em what they want) huckster and showman that Bill Shakespeare happened to be, and far less funny that Geoff Chaucer, Milton spoke past human vanity and proudly humbled himself before the Three Persons of ontological certainty - the Alpha and Omega Trio.

Milton was a sponge of human tongues and unlike dusty dopes like John Dewey and Noam Chomsky applied language to its actual purpose - to seek Truth. Milton sought to not justify God, but to justify God's Ways to Man. Huge difference. Like I noted above above, Milton was Cromwell's Latin Minister. Oliver Cromwell beheaded Charles I with the full agreement of a very frightened Parliament and built a Taliban state of England that any Islamic Brother would embrace - in practice if not theology. Warty Ollie burned witches, killed Catholics, banned plays, songs, and books and made Jihads on Scotland and Ireland that rocked the Casbah. Burning the Cathedral full of Papists in the Irish town of Drogheda north of Dublin, Cromwell ordered his Iron Sides troopers to sing hymns and when questioned about barbecuing the kids along with their elders remarked, "Nits breed lice."

That gent would have made a fine Planned Parenthood president.

Milton was the Latin Minister of a very progressive government of bigots, but no bigot himself. In fact, though a devout Puritan, Milton counted many Italian Cardinals as his boon chums. Milton was schooled not only in Latin, but Greek, Hebrew, Italian and French. He was tasked principally with defending and justifying Cromwell's regicidal government to the world of men, but his life sought to make sense of God's Plan.

All things, not some, are ex Deo. The Fall of Man was and could only be a consequence of the Fall of angels. Satan, formerly Lucifer, is the first community activist.

Satan organizes all beings and goes Alinsky on God and his stooges -Michael, Gabriel & etc. - and agitates for reform which means Satan should be God. Satan is brilliantly energetic, but goes nowhere. Satan is really, really, really frustrated that he is not God the Omnipotent Creator of Satan and everything else; therefore, Satan can only attack God through Man, whom God loves. What Satan, for all of his energy and talent, can not grasp, nor accept is that he is not God. He therefore turns away from everything that is God. Satan is the Anglicized word from the Hebrew for op poser הַשָׂטָן ha-Satan.

Opposition.

Paradise gets Lost and Satan manages to have God's beloved creatures Adam and Eve oppose God's Will. However, poor old Satan is confounded by the fact that God's Will trumps the best laid plans and all of the opposition research in the Devil's trick bag. God Planned this opposition by Satan and eventually Man only to have Paradise redeemed.

When I read the scores of the Seaton debacle, all I could think of was Milton's wonderful scene of the fallen demons on the fiery landscape of what soon would become Hell. Satan was also the first Construction/Real Estate Magnate - He and Beelzebub, raised Hell.


Is this the Region, this the Soil, the Clime,
Said then the lost Arch-Angel, this the seat
That we must change for Heav'n, this mournful gloom
For that celestial light? Be it so, since he [ 245 ]
Who now is Sovran can dispose and bid
What shall be right: fardest from him is best
Whom reason hath equald, force hath made supream
Above his equals. Farewel happy Fields
Where Joy for ever dwells: Hail horrours, hail [ 250 ]
Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell
Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings
A mind not to be chang'd by Place or Time.
The mind is its own place, and in it self
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n. [ 255 ]
What matter where, if I be still the same,
And what I should be, all but less then he
Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence: [ 260 ]
Here we may reign secure, and in my choyce
To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav'n.
But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,
Th' associates and copartners of our loss [ 265 ]
Lye thus astonisht on th' oblivious Pool,
And call them not to share with us their part
In this unhappy Mansion, or once more
With rallied Arms to try what may be yet
Regaind in Heav'n, or what more lost in Hell? [ 270 ]
So Satan spake, and him Beelzebub
Thus answer'd. Leader of those Armies bright,
Which but th' Onmipotent none could have foyld,
If once they hear that voyce, thir liveliest pledge
Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft [ 275 ]
In worst extreams, and on the perilous edge
Of battel when it rag'd, in all assaults
Thir surest signal, they will soon resume
New courage and revive, though now they lye
Groveling and prostrate on yon Lake of Fire, [ 280 ]
As we erewhile, astounded and amaz'd,
No wonder, fall'n such a pernicious highth.
He scarce had ceas't when the superiour Fiend
Was moving toward the shoar; his ponderous shield
Ethereal temper, massy, large and round, [ 285 ]
Behind him cast; the broad circumference
Hung on his shoulders like the Moon, whose Orb
Through Optic Glass the Tuscan Artist views
At Ev'ning from the top of Fesole,
Or in Valdarno, to descry new Lands, [ 290 ]
Rivers or Mountains in her spotty Globe.
His Spear, to equal which the tallest Pine
Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the Mast
Of some great Ammiral, were but a wand,
He walkt with to support uneasie steps [ 295 ]
Over the burning Marle, not like those steps
On Heavens Azure, and the torrid Clime
Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with Fire;
Nathless he so endur'd, till on the Beach
Of that inflamed Sea, he stood and call'd [ 300 ]
His Legions, Angel Forms, who lay intrans't
Thick as Autumnal Leaves that strow the Brooks
In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades
High overarch't imbowr; or scatterd sedge
Afloat, when with fierce Winds Orion arm'd [ 305 ]
Hath vext the Red-Sea Coast, whose waves orethrew
Busiris and his Memphian Chivalry,
While with perfidious hatred they pursu'd
The Sojourners of Goshen, who beheld
From the safe shore thir floating Carkases [ 310 ]
And broken Chariot Wheels, so thick bestrown
Abject and lost lay these, covering the Flood,
Under amazement of thir hideous change.
He call'd so loud, that all the hollow Deep
Of Hell resounded. Princes, Potentates, [ 315 ]
Warriers, the Flowr of Heav'n, once yours, now lost,
If such astonishment as this can sieze
Eternal spirits; or have ye chos'n this place
After the toyl of Battel to repose
Your wearied vertue, for the ease you find [ 320 ]
To slumber here, as in the Vales of Heav'n?
Or in this abject posture have ye sworn
To adore the Conquerour? who now beholds
Cherube and Seraph rowling in the Flood
With scatter'd Arms and Ensigns, till anon [ 325 ]
His swift pursuers from Heav'n Gates discern
Th' advantage, and descending tread us down
Thus drooping, or with linked Thunderbolts
Transfix us to the bottom of this Gulfe.
Awake, arise, or be for ever fall'n. [ 330 ]


Hell of place you got there!

Fallen is not damned. The Leo motto is Facta Non Verba -Deeds not Words. Our Deeds fell short . . .way short . . .29 points short of a tie and thirty of win.

Fall seven times and get up eight. Christ could not have Restored Paradise if he stayed down on the third fall. Christ never tanked a fight. He fell three and with some help climbed up for a crucifixion and death that justified God's Ways to Man.

Paradise Lost is no Color Purple, or Kite Runner, but needs to be read, studied and taught.

Sunday, December 06, 2009

North Korea Has G.I. Divas and We have Desiree Rogers.



The North Korean goofball Kim Jong Il has him an Army of leggy G.I.'s - no Sad Sacks They.

We have Desiree Rogers. Hey, my fault, I know. I am posting almost exclusively on the Desiree Rogers Agonistes. It keeps me from going to Lardo's Scottsdale Hobby Shoppe and buying kits of Schooners and Galleons in bottles, or waiting for my Green Chicago Parkway trio of trees to insinuate their roots deeper into my sewer egress lines -Both wonderful ways to pass my quality time.

One has only a thin wedge between the window and sill of opportunity to place a thorn in the thong of a self-absorbed Thimble-Rigging Job Jumper like Mardi Gras Chicagoan Desiree Rogers. As I noted, my animus stems from, but certainly not limited to, Ms. Rogers' revelation of character when she scooped Corporate Contributions form Peoples Energy Corporation's annual education grants to poor Black Kids attending Leo High School in Auburn Gresham and plumping up her Fash Bash - Fashion Show featuring Desiree Runway Rogers.


I liked this Rockefeller Center photo rendition of North Korean Military Hi-Jinks that came from my pal Mr. G of Chicago: http://superdadspeaks.blogspot.com This put me in mind of the New York Times piece I read before Mass this morning by Maureen Dowd - the bottled Mick Red-head wit and harridan.

Crazy Aunt Maureen Dowd - the bitter and marinated fifty and change spinster aunt who has given up meeting a nice man at St. Patrick's Novenas - has linked Desiree Rogers and Tiger Woods. Aunt Mo is generally all "Hey You Bitch Get Over Here!" about Sarah Palin, who could kick Mo's Rump from here to Nome and Back, in her cocktail and Virginia Thins Menthol throaty skirl*.

Both Tiger and Desiree hid and stayed silent because they mistakenly thought they were protecting the Brand. But despite their marketing savvy, these two controlling players spiraled out of control. They made the same colossal error in opposite ways.

She mistook herself for the principal, sashaying around and posing in magazines as though she were the first lady, rather than a staffer whose job is to stay behind the scenes and make her bosses look good. (Even if Barack Obama is a brand, Desiree shouldn’t talk like the First Marketer or call him a brand — and she definitely shouldn’t refer to it in a proprietary way as “we.”)

He is the principal. But he forgot that he’s no longer a solo brand. He has been marketing himself since he turned pro and 21 in 1996, becoming a billionaire with endorsement deals with Nike, American Express, Titleist and the two Generals, Mills and Motors.



Tiger has abilities -tons - not as a husband,or father mind you (Real Men Don't Tom Cat- my neighborhood? Not Done -Everyone is married to his/her high school pal until the trip to Sheehy's Funeral Home.) Desiree?

Give me these North Korean Gorgeous Grunts any day.


*skirl (skûrl)
v. skirled, skirl·ing, skirls
v.intr.
To produce a high, shrill, wailing tone. Used of bagpipes.
v.tr.
To play (a piece) on bagpipes.
n.
1. The shrill sound made by the chanter pipe of bagpipes.
2. A shrill wailing sound: "The skirl of a police whistle split the stillness" (Sax Rohmer).
[Middle English skrillen, skirlen, probably of Scandinavian origin.]

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Carly Simon Sues Starbuck's 'Spresso Swillers Scorn Stax of Wax by Star with a Mouth Like a Firebucket






















From Rolling Stone - no less ( clique me post title) and check out this comment*!

Hag-like has-been, Carly Simon is a suing a coffee shop because her records are not selling all that well.

Carly Simon was the hippie chick who hooked up with Mick, Cat, Sweet Baby Ray, er James, Warren, Frank, Eddie Carroll ( three times at Keegan's Pub), the 1973 Leo High School Basketball Champs, USS Daniel A. Joy(DE 585), the fat Greek who ran the Fields on Wood Street & 79th Street ( "Ged Oudda Hee Leo Shea! Mollacka! Leo U Leedle Bastahd!" and sang some forgetable songs.

She had huge knockers as I recall and a mouth like a firebucket. De Gustibus Non Est Disputandem.

Now the old Harpy is suing Starbucks. Lawd, Lawd.

The Four Tops never disappointed their fans; nor did Mitch Ryder.

*One Wag Weird Waldo got in this lick before any one else!

WeirdoWaldo | 10/13/2009, 12:43 pm ESTNow she really has some clouds in her coffee!!