Looking Forward To the Oscars? I’ve Got a Short Story For You!

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Mateo Sandoval has waited since 1946 to win Best Actor. At his age, it’s now or never. We all know crazy things can happen at the Oscars, but no one expected this! Click on the above links to read this short story on your Kindle or Nook for only ninety-nine cents!

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All Hail Jeff Passan! … Wait, Who’s Jeff Passan?

I’ve written before about my love of The Dan Le Batard Show With Stugotz.  They are a daily radio show on ESPN that take a slightly different approach to sports.  Often hilarious, they are also always entertaining.

A new guest debuted today–Jeff Passan.  Passan spent over a decade with Yahoo Sports and just joined ESPN in January of 2019.  Apparently, he will be their new baseball analyst and breaking news guy.  Dan kind of stumbled over his intro, so I get the feeling not too many people at ESPN have gotten a good feel him.

If we’re being honest, I could not care less about baseball.  Even with that being said, Passan may be my new all-time hero.

Dan and the guys were talking about bald men because that’s the kind of things they talk about, which somehow led to Sean Connery, which next led to bad Sean Connery impressions, which then prompted Dan to ask Passan if he did a bad Sean Connery impression as soon as Passan joined the show.  Passan, realizing that this was the first time we’ve heard him on the program, gamely played along and performed a poor Sean Connery impression.  Okay!  As far as we–the audience–were concerned, this guy was going to be all right.  He can have some fun.  He doesn’t seem to take himself or sports too seriously.  He can be fluid and flexible when he makes an appearance.

Passan could have left it at that and made a fine first impression.

Oh, but he decided to level up.

Passan, who had to know what would come next, willingly volunteered the fact that, while his Connery impression isn’t great, he has a few impressions that are masterful.

Well, come on.  Dan and crew aren’t going to let that slide by.  They asked him which one he thought was his best.

Passan answered Elmo.

Elmo.

Dan’s impending dementia flared up when he got Elmo and Grover confused, but that’s okay, we love him anyway, and then Passan added that he will only do Elmo if he can say something inappropriate.

I won’t tell you the line Dan threw out there because I’m a public school teacher and value my career, but Passan nailed it.

Nailed it.

At that point, Dan and the team insisted that Passan give them his analysis on recent baseball news only in an Elmo voice.  Passan, being probably the newest guy at ESPN and hoping to establish himself as a credible sports reporter to an unfamiliar audience had every right to laugh off the request right then and there.  He did Connery.  He did Elmo.  What more could we ask of the man?

He agreed to do it.

Listening to Passan offer baseball analysis in an Elmo voice … I had tears rolling down my face.

Passan made a point to joke about the whole thing being a bad idea with phrases similar to “career suicide” and “I’m going to regret this” … but he kept going!

Look, I don’t care about baseball at all, but I instantly followed Jeff Passan on Twitter.  This is my kind of guy.  I can’t wait for him to visit the show again … as long as he does his Elmo voice.

Go give Passan’s segment a listen and show this man a little love.  You can hear his appearance at this link: http://www.espn.com/espnradio/play?id=26038796

You can also follow Jeff Passan on Twitter here: https://twitter.com/JeffPassan

Men with this kind of bravery … they deserve our adoration.  Move over Elmo, it’s–na na nana, na na nana–Passan’s world!

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(Did you enjoy this article?  Check out Scott William Foley’s Dr. Nekros e-book series HERE)

 

I Once Made An Amazing Basketball Play … That My Coach Hated

Though I now love basketball as an adult, I wasn’t into it at all as a child.  In fact, I didn’t really start playing basketball until I entered seventh grade.  I’m guessing a four inch growth spurt (also, my last growth spurt) prompted this interest in the sport.

I liked it a lot, more than football, but had some catching up to do with the guys who played in the youth programs.  Luckily, I was from a small town, so if you tried out for the team … you were pretty much on the team.

Seventh and eighth grade basketball treated me well.  I wasn’t anything better than average, but I learned a lot about the sport and, even more importantly, had a great time.

By ninth grade, I was feeling pretty good about myself.  I still wasn’t anywhere close to being the star of the team, but I regularly did particularly well on the “B” team, so I thought I still had plenty of room to improve, and I believed that I would improve.

With my confidence soaring, I once made a play that I thought was inspired, efficient, and full of style.  My coach completely disagreed.  Thankfully, this all happened at practice.

I don’t remember the exact circumstances, but I somehow gained possession of a loose ball while playing defense.  I remember I had to chase it down and bend over to retrieve it.  I knew members of my team were already fast breaking to our basket.  Sure, I could pick the ball up, turn, and then thrown it down court to them, but that would waste precious seconds, seconds that would allow the defense time to catch up.

In perhaps one of the most ingenious moments in basketball history, I figured out how to bypass those three wasteful moves into one economical motion that would surely result in two points.

I bent over to grab the ball with both hands.  I spread my legs nice and wide.  And then, with the efficiency of an NFL center and with my butt facing the basket in which we wanted to score, I launched the ball with both hands right between my legs to the lead fast breaker.

I’ll never know if my teammate scored because I stopped watching him when I heard my coach scream, “AXLE!”

A quick side note: My coach called me “Axle” after the character “Axle Foley” from Beverly Hills Cop.  Remember, this was all happening in the early ’90s.  I kind of liked the nickname.  “Axle” always sounded pretty cool.  Of course, looking back, I’m pretty sure half the time he wasn’t actually saying “Axle.”  Apparently, my unorthodox methods often befuddled him.

Coach had a brief chat with me about my pass.  He said something along the lines of, “I never … ever … want to see that again.  … Ever.”

I’ve watched a lot of professional basketball since that moment.  I’ve loved the NBA, and, more specifically, the NBA playoffs, since ninth grade.  In all the games I’ve watched during the last thirty years, I can attest that Coach was right.  I’ve never seen that pass executed by, well, anyone.

To this day, though, I maintain that it was a brilliant pass.  I hit my breaker right on the money.  Sure, it looked silly, but it was so efficient.

Man, I loved basketball.

Maybe I should have played past ninth grade.

Maybe one day I’ll tell you why I didn’t.

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(Did you enjoy this article?  Check out Scott William Foley’s Dr. Nekros e-book series HERE)

 

 

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Cupid’s got a bit of a problem. He now appears old and decrepit, and he’s lost his will to spark romance. In fact, on St. Valentine’s Day, he’s content to merely mope on a park bench, sulking. What has brought Cupid to this lowly state, and is there any way Bernie and Patti can renew his vigor to unite lovers? Find out by downloading to your Nook or Kindle for only ninety-nine cents!

Something Awkward Happened To Me At Work Today

As a teacher, there are ample opportunities for one to embarrass oneself.  I’m in front of teenagers about five hours a day, every weekday, for ten months out of the year.  In the past, I’ve always been worried about unstoppable bodily functions.  I won’t go into specifics, but you get the idea.  That’s always been my biggest fear.  The point is, every moment is a minefield of possible mortification.

Today something happened that’s never happened to me in quite the degree it did.

Before I begin, though, let me provide a little bit of background information.  We’re trying something new this semester called an “advisory period.”  For old folks like me, it’s sort of like what we called “homeroom” back when we were kids.  Theoretically, we’ll keep this same group of teens for advisory period every year that they are in high school until they graduate.  It’s an interesting idea that I think could prove beneficial.  Luckily, I’ve got an amazing group of students.  They really are fantastic.  Here’s the thing, though: I only see them twice a week.

Allow me to share just a bit more to help put this story in context.  I’ve taught now for seventeen years.  I conservatively average about 120 new students each semester.  That’s 240 students a year, which means I’ve had to learn over 4,000 students’ names during my career so far.

That’s a lot of names.

Can you see where this is going?

So today I’m doing an activity with my advisory period kids.  I’m running through the room, calling on kid after kid–no issues.  And then I get to a particular student–a student I’ve spoken with on a regular basis since the semester started.

I drew a blank.

Now, this is not the first time I’ve struggled to remember a name during my time as a teacher, especially when so early in a semester.  Usually, a second or two goes by, and it hits me.

Not this time.

I stared at the student.

He stared at me.

It got awkward.

I didn’t have my seating chart within reach.  I wasn’t near my computer, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because I didn’t have attendance up on my screen.

I kept staring at him, smiling.

I saw the realization set in upon his face that I couldn’t remember his name.  A look of amusement in his eyes slowly turned to disbelief, then discomfort, then horror.

I peeked at the rest of the room and they all gaped at me.  No one would come to my rescue.  Though, to be honest, they might have thought I’d feel insulted if they did.

I told myself not to panic right before I panicked.

“Help me out,” I said to the young man.  “Give me the first initial.”

“P.”

Nothing.  I still had nothing.  I wanted to say “Nick.”  I wanted to say “Nick” so bad, but the kid just told me “P.”

“P!”

I briefly considered the possibility that he didn’t know his own name, that, in fact, I was right after all.  I abandoned that hope almost instantly.

I could feel myself grinning like an idiot, trying to play it off, but the awkwardness grew unbearable.  If you know me, you understand that’s quite a statement.  I exist in a perpetual state of awkward.  For the awkwardness to be so potent–so powerful–that it paralyzed me … well, that level of awkwardness might have killed a lesser man.

I had one more play.  Just as I was about to make it a game, to have the class offer me some hints, the student in question had had enough.  He called out his name to me–“Parker*.”

“Parker!”

How could I forget “Parker!”

I apologized profusely to both he and the rest of the class.  I joked about my age, how they can expect that sort of thing to happen more often from me.  On the inside, I was mortified.  I’ve never before experienced that level of forgetfulness in a pressure situation.  I absolutely feel like if I’d stood there for an hour looking at him, I still wouldn’t have come up with his name.

The class laughed it off with me, but I could see it on their faces–as far as they were concerned, I’d aged decades to them in that moment.

I’m barely over halfway through my career, people.

By the time I reach retirement age, I’m going to be lucky to remember my own name.

 

*The students real name has been altered in the interest of protecting his identity.

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(Did you enjoy this article?  Check out Scott William Foley’s e-book series HERE)

Dan Le Batard, Alexa, and Me

Alexa and the Amazon Echo always kind of freaked me out.  Amazon is pretty direct in admitting that the Echo is always listening for “Alexa,” its activation phrase.  And then, about a year ago, stories started circulating that people could hear a faint laughter emitting from it.  This unsettled me to the point that it inspired a horror story.

However, some family members recently bought a few Echos for their house and, admittedly, they were super cool.  My kids loved asking Alexa questions and, personally, I found the option of just asking about the weather or any other kind of information without having to run to my phone or laptop pretty enticing.

Unfortunately, the idea of that thing always “listening” still gave me the creeps.

I bet you’re wondering what any of this has to do with Dan Le Batard.

If you’re not familiar with Dan Le Batard, he co-hosts a program called The Dan Le Batard Show With Stugotz on ESPN Radio.  I discovered these guys a few years ago and I listen to them almost religiously.  Dan is a former sports writer who ventured into TV and radio as he foresaw the decline of print.  I find Dan’s sense of humor clever, but he’s also very insightful and, in my opinion, often calls things correctly.  He recognizes the ridiculousness in sports and isn’t afraid to contradict popular talking points.  Half of the time, he doesn’t even talk sports even though it’s technically a “sports” show.

Stugotz is every boneheaded sports fan to have ever existed, and we love him for it.  He speaks in cliches, he wins arguments by making you prove him wrong, and if you haven’t done anything for him lately, then what have you really done for him?  Jon Weiner is playing a character with Stugotz, but mostly in the same way your teacher plays a character.  Stugotz is Jon Weiner, and Jon Weiner is Stugotz.  I imagine that Stugotz is just Weiner enhanced and unfiltered.  The guy is so popular, he has his own army.

I listen to these men virtually every night as I cook and wash dishes.  Their radio show ends around noon, but they strip the morning program down to it’s best moments with a podcast available on ESPN.com.  You can find their archives here: http://www.espn.com/espnradio/podcast/archive/_/id/9941853

So what does this have to do with Alexa and the Amazon Echo?

Often, when I’m doing dishes and enjoying the show, one of my children comes into the kitchen and asks me a question.  Because I listen to it loudly enough to overtake the sound of water, pots, and pans, I have to dry my hands, go to my phone, and then hit pause.  After I deal with whatever they need, I then push play again and go back to my dishes.  This typically happens a few times a night–night after night.

I got to thinking … wouldn’t it be nice if I could just say “pause” or “volume down” instead of going through that whole process?  There was just one problem.  I didn’t think ESPN entertainment would be available through Alexa. I kind of figured the whole Amazon and Disney competition would render that an impossibility.

However, I did a little research, and it seemed that because The Dan Le Batard Show With Studgotz is available through many podcasts outlets, it should be generally retrievable by Alexa via the internet.

There was only one way to know for sure.

The next time I was at my family’s house, I approached their Echo.  I said, “Alexa, play The Dan Le Batard Show With Stugotz.”

A half second passed.

It felt like a century.

And then … I heard that wonderful music coupled with Papi’s introduction.

I ordered my Echo that night.

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(Did you enjoy this article?  Check out Scott William Foley’s short stories HERE!)