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Archive for the ‘Ranting and Raving’ Category

Vote "A" for the immortal Mr. Ed.

Vote “A” for the immortal Mr. Ed.

Vote "B" for The Dark Overlord.

Vote “B” for The Dark Overlord.

Vote "C" for "Little Help? Guys? Guys..."

Vote “C” for “Little Help? Guys? Guys…”

Vote "D" for "Future Camera Breaker."

  Vote “D” for “I saw Hoosiers … once. I would have called the kid for traveling and waved off the game-winning basket just to see folks cry.”

Vote "E" for

   Vote “E” for “The Final Word.” Cause give her credit, she never, ever, ever, EVER backs down.

Who do you fear?

In Coupeville that’s a complicated question, as least when it comes to high school basketball referees.

Cause we fear them all.

Over the past couple of seasons, refs have trod a painful path of tears across the CHS gym court.

We’re not talking a trivial call here or there, but night after night of a sustained, gut-wrenching, game-blowing, gym-fleeing-in-record-time body of work.

And, while it’s been slightly better this season (no one has allowed a visiting player to remain in the game AFTER throwing a punch at a Wolf player’s head a foot away from a ref this year, so that’s a start), there’s still enough to allow us to merrily grumble.

And yes, I’m sure these refs — with maybe one exception — are good, upstanding folks who take way too much crap for what they’re earning.

There’s even a couple of really solid men and women on the job, again putting up with our crap. We see them far too infrequently.

But we have become so scarred here in Cow Town, by on-court actions and back-room whisperings, that I doubt there is a single die-hard fan who doesn’t immediately lock on to the ref crew when it appears in the gym doorway.

Sometimes there are sighs, sometimes agonized screams of “Sweet Lord in Heaven, they’re still lettin’ Mr. Ed out without his seeing-eye dog?!!?!?”

So, let’s play a little game.

From the photos assembled above, cast your votes for which ref you absolutely, positively hate to see darken our gym.

Vote early, vote often. Work out your aggression in a constructive manner.

The poll is open for 48 hours (closes 10 PM Christmas Eve) and there are no limits on how often you vote.

Let the dark side flow from you, my sons and daughters of Wolf Nation and emerge into the rest of basketball season cleansed.

Unless they see this and get really, really pissed and … oh, yeah, the whole seeing-eye dog thing. I think we’re safe.

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Coaches like Wolf boys' hoops guru Anthony Smith (John Fisken photo)

  Coaches like CHS boys’ hoops guru Anthony Smith have agreed to sacrifice time and work their schedules around a season. When athletes (and parents) don’t want to do the same, why expect a free ride? (John Fisken photo)

High school sports can be tough.

Not everyone can play them. Not everyone should.

But, if you, as a player, and you, as a parent, make the decision to do so, realize you’re going to have to occasionally step out of your entitled world and face off with reality.

Not every kid makes varsity. Not every kid gets the same playing time.

Right there, sports just introduced you to the cold, hard reality of the real world.

Those with internal fortitude will press on and work harder, and, possibly, hopefully, be rewarded for the time, effort and sweat they put in.

Sports teach tough lessons, but they also show reward can come (sometimes, not always) when effort is put in.

But then you have parents such as Kimberly DeJesus, who just had a letter to the editor published in The Whidbey News-Times.

In the letter, which I have linked to below, she cries (a lot) about coaches having practices during holidays.

Her main point:

I, as a parent who had children in school, would not allow my children to practice on holiday break, especially if we were traveling out of town to visit relatives.

And then if the coach(es) wouldn’t let my kids play because they missed practice, oh my.

You would not want to take me there, as it would be my decision that we left town, not my kids’.

Let’s go through this, shall we?

1) In the state of Washington, athletes have to have a certain number of practices in to be eligible to play in games.

With barely two weeks from the first official day of practice to the first basketball game (and athletes needing 10 practices to be eligible), coaches have little choice but to have practices AROUND the holiday (none that I know of had day-of-Thanksgiving practices).

So, while you scream at the coach, you ignore the WIAA, which set the practice requirements.

2) When you signed your kid(s) up, you saw a schedule. You knew, in advance, when the practice and games were. It is your choice if you want to have them play or go on vacation.

You don’t always get to have it both ways.

The coaches, who have committed to the season and agreed to work THEIR schedules around the holidays, certainly don’t.

3) So, we’ll say your child is not at practice. Other players are.

Fine. Your choice to make, as a parent. No one disputes that.

Yet you want them to be rewarded the same as the players who sacrificed, who scrapped, who committed heart and soul to the program. Who actually showed up.

Or else you will throw a snit fit.

Thereby teaching your children that if you’re not given everything you want, regardless of whether you worked for it and deserve it, the only way to solve the problem is to scream and cry and pretend to be abused.

And we wonder why so many high school coaches burn out and walk away after just a few years.

The letter:

http://www.whidbeynewstimes.com/opinion/letters/284017111.html

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"Oh lord, Uncle David's gettin' dramatic again..."

“Oh lord, Uncle David’s gettin’ dramatic again…”

OK, no one do anything awesome or amazing for a bit.

I’m going to see my nephews for a few days, so we’re putting a CLOSED sign on Coupeville Sports.

I won’t be posting anything while I’m gone, and may not even check my email, for that matter. Being the last hold-out against owning a cell phone, that’s slightly easier for me than others.

This is the slowest stretch for sports and sporting activities on Whidbey anyway, so it’s not like anyone will be going into crisis mode.

The world will keep spinning. Life will go on. I will be back.

Now, of course, if UFOs invade Penn Cove or some such nonsense while I’m gone, I’ll feel slightly guilty.

But only slightly.

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Which of these is not the same as the others?

Which of these is not the same as the others?

I have a battered, cruddy t-shirt, worn down by time and the tears of those who toiled for The Whidbey Examiner while she was still still an independent newspaper.

The hole across the collar is getting larger, and, since the shirt itself is getting thinner after several years of wear and washing, it’s about to go from a slight annoyance to full-on disgrace.

I should probably throw it away, or burn it.

And yet, I have held on to it, since it was the last connection to a time before the Canucks swept down from Moosejaw and bought up The Examiner, putting a monopoly on Whidbey’s three papers.

Having written a lot of stories for the rag — my weekly video column alone ran, without missing a week, for 15 years — I wasn’t thrilled to see it sold off to Black Press, becoming just another small line item in a vast global media empire’s business report.

But, we’re not here to rehash that.

Instead, I’m here to show off the unexpected gift that showed up in my mailbox yesterday.

Having seen a photo of my much-battered Examiner t-shirt, Eric at Ashley’s Design (http://www.ashleysdesign.com/) in Oak Harbor decided, on a whim, to print up some shirts for Coupeville Sports, using a similar design.

It was a nice, unexpected surprise.

As this blog careens, slightly out-of-control, towards its two-year anniversary on Aug. 16, maybe it’s time to put on a new t-shirt and fully discard the past.

Who wants to make smores cooked over the embers of a beat-up Examiner t-shirt?

Anyone … anyone … BuellerBueller?

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Just punch me now.

Just punch me now.

I am somewhat resistant to change.

That’s why I still use the same trusty DVD/VCR combo we got as a “bribe” from a movie studio back in the glory days of Videoville. It hums along just dandy 10+ years later, even after stuffing more movies into it than recommended in the manual.

Many, many, MANNNNNNNYYYYYYY more movies…

But anyway, we’re not here to discuss whether I just watched nine movies in a 17-hour period a day or two ago. That is neither here nor there.

It is true, but it’s neither here nor there.

What we are here to discuss, briefly, is me giving in and adding a Twitter to my (very small) media empire.

I refuse to give in and get a cell phone (you can all enjoy your rapidly approaching brain cancer by yourselves), but, in some small way, it kinda makes sense for me to post links to my stories and whatnot on more than just Facebook.

So, Twitter.

Yee-frickin-hah…

Of course, @CoupevilleSports won’t work, because it’s ONE LETTER too long. Of course it is.

So, you can find me at @DavidSvien.

It’s short. It’s catchy. It’s all the effort I’m putting in to this.

I have eight followers so far. The Whidbey Examiner has 143. We need to beat them. Quickly.

And no, I’m not gettin’ an Instagram. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

I do think my old MySpace might still be out there, though…

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