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Archive for the ‘Ranting and Raving’ Category

Jodi and Jon Crimmins, aka The Awesome Twosome.

They are Coupeville’s own Brad and Angelina, just more athletic.

And while they may live down on the South End of Whidbey Island these days, allowing their daughter Maggie to play middle school volleyball for Langley (it’s just not right, I say), Jon and Jodi Crimmins remain Wolves at heart.

He was a tennis ace in his younger days (I have the vintage Whidbey News-Times photos to prove it) and she, back when she went by the pre-marriage alias of Jodi Christensen, was the hardest-working basketball player I have ever witnessed take the floor at CHS.

She frequently bounced off the floor, elbowed her own teammates (accidentally, she claimed) in the face while in pursuit of elusive rebounds and earned the respect and admiration of even the crustiest coach.

Off the floor, Jodi worked at Miriam’s Espresso for a stint in her younger days and earned the title of Nicest Person in the Entire Universe. Jon, while just a hair behind his high school sweetheart, still turned out pretty nice himself.

Now Jodi is a teacher and Jon is a forest ranger and they have two kids (the aforementioned Maggie, who needs to switch to the red and black by her high school days, and Aiden). And they remain eternally awesome.

I bring this up because this Friday marks the 16th wedding anniversary of Jon and Jodi, and because, since it’s my blog, I can write about whatever I feel like.

And what I feel like this morning is saying, good on you, Crimmins clan. You guys are the best and I hope your anniversary day — ah heck, your anniversary week — is as splendid as the people involved.

Now, we do need to talk about this whole moving closer to Coupeville thing.

Maggie Crimmins, Falcon? Doesn’t sound right.

Maggie Crimmins, second-generation Wolf, laying down the Elbow o’ Death like her mom once did?

That’s history. That’s destiny.

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“Then we’re agreed, right? If she doesn’t shoot pictures, we unleash the poison darts that you brought back with you from Bangkok?”

This is a public service announcement.

If you are Amy Briscoe, or know Amy Briscoe, or run into Amy Briscoe by accident today (hopefully not with your car…) you need to remember one thing — PACK YOUR CAMERA, WOMAN!!

The first home Coupeville Middle School volleyball games of the season are today, starting at 3 PM, and Mrs. Briscoe, whose daughters Kyla and Tiffany suit up for the Wolves, has explicitly promised me she will shoot photos of said action. Photos that I can use here on the blog.

So, I’m just putting this out there. Don’t disappoint me, woman! I know where you live!!

Oh, and don’t drive by my house (she knows where I live, too…) and throw things at my head in revenge for this. That would be nice, too.

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The man, the myth, the legend … Kyle King.

“Kyle King”

Now this is confusing.

As I was perusing the results from yesterday’s Virginia/Panorama Farms Invitational — a cross country race that featured three of the nation’s top 25 college teams, including No. 4 Oklahoma, which won easily — I saw what I thought was a typo.

The results had Kyle King finishing 13th and 14th in the race, with the only difference being that one Kyle King was supposedly running for the University of Virginia, while the other one competed for the meet-winning Sooners.

Knowing that former Coupeville High School legend Kyle King was wrapping up his college running days in Norman, Oklahoma, I was of two minds. Either the stats guy had slipped up or the man, the myth, the legend who would run shirtless in the snow on Whidbey, was so fast he had run the race twice, finishing mere seconds behind himself, possibly busting the space time continuum.

It wasn’t to be, however, as a little research (and I do mean little — this is a sports blog, not “60 Minutes”) revealed the existence of another cross country runner with the exact same moniker of Kyle King.

How dare he lay claim to the name of a Coupeville sports god?!?!?

According to my “research,” the imposter Kyle King won five state titles in high school (the same as the real Kyle King). His favorite movie is “The Fighter.” (Not bad.) His favorite magazine is “Runners World” (Predictable, but OK.) And his favorite band is Blink-182 (Apparently they’re tone deaf in Virginia…)

Frankly, I only see one way to settle this. A head-to-head race for the right to be the one and only Kyle King, Cross Country Stud. And no, yesterday’s race doesn’t count, since our Kyle King was running under his coach’s game plan to have the OU runners stay in a tight pack and not break apart for any reason, the better to hide the Sooners true strengths until later in the season.

But there is going to come a time and a place when the two must face off and this must be settled once and for all. For in the words of “Highlander,” that most sainted of ’80s classic cinema cheese, “There can only be one!!!”

And his name will be Kyle King!!

Yeah, I’m sort of hedging my bets here…

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I didn’t want to get in the water, but my banana made me.

Penn Cove is never going to be mistaken for a jacuzzi.

And yet I keep going back, twice-a-day most days. 167 days in 2011 and tomorrow, Monday, Sept. 24 will mark 100 days in the salty, sorta-coolish water — all of them in only a swimsuit, because wet suits are for tourists and wusses.

Not that I see much of either one during my sojourns. I’ve had a few people come walking by on the rocky, mussel-and-barnacle-encrusted beaches, a handful of kayaks slide by in the water over the last two years and a couple of ever-present seals that sometimes shadow me.

Not once have I seen another person in the water in more than 500 trips down the Hill O’ Death in front of my house.

Sunny August afternoons or fog-enshrouded November mornings, it doesn’t matter. Either everyone is swimming in a different part of Penn Cove than me or I’m just an irrational idiot.

Yeah, probably the latter of the two.

But, at least I don’t have to worry about sharks, because, if my life-long obsession with movies has taught me anything, it’s that sharks only lurk where there’s a crowd of available people-sized snacks bobbing in the water.

Oh yeah, and they usually reserve their attacks for warm water, cause sharks ain’t idiots. Unlike some of us.

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It’s not getting washed!! It took me a long time to grow moss on the car. I’m not starting over now.

I am at an interesting point in my life.

I have spent the past year battling a thyroid that keeps on going on the fritz or “something” (some of the doctors around here aren’t exactly Sherlock Holmes), leaving me dealing with crushing fatigue for no good reason. It has made working difficult and been a royal pain in the rear.

It’s not as bad as it was at the start, when I had arms that felt like they were 1,000 pounds and full of cold fire — a time when I could barely move from my chair. Now we bump the meds, I’m great for two weeks, then it comes back, and we repeat, again and again.

Two things have helped keep me sane during this time. Swimming twice a day in Penn Cove (98 days in 2012, still chasing the 167 I made in ’11) and, for the last month or so, the decision to stop covering sports for the Whidbey Examiner as a freelancer and instead launch my own blog/web site/convenient way to annoy The Man.

Neither option pays diddly squat, so I might as well take off the shackles (now I can use the word “stud!”) and, if nothing else, entertain myself. Having the ability to post at 2 AM, being able to tweak ATM football for giggles and posting the names of 40 middle school athletes just cause it will make 40 moms happy has been fun.

So far I’ve published 85 articles (66 of which were EXCLUSIVES — in your face, Canadian-funded local newspapers, with your retirement packages and probably free doughnuts!), and just crested 9,400 page views (pictures of Hunter Hammer buffing a mini-van with his butt certainly helped).

And, I’ve done this in my spare time. Imagine what I could accomplish if I was able to actually devote serious time to churning out purple prose from my bunker deep beneath Penn Cove!

For starters, I would be able to cover games in person. More in-depth pieces. More “Where Are They Now?” articles about former Wolf greats. So, basically a ton more of the stuff NOT being delivered by the competition.

This is NOT a slam on the people who work for the two newspapers in town, who include my former journalism teacher and a publisher who has shown great restraint in not punching me in the face over the past 15 years, no matter how much she has probably considered it at times.

This IS a slam on their Corporate Canadian Overlords, those 275-paper ownin’, yacht-sailin’ NEVER SET A FOOT IN COUPEVILLE IN THEIR LIVES empty suits from Manitoba (Moose Jaw? Saskatchewan?) who profit off of a town they couldn’t pick out on a map.

I’m calling you out! One man with sometimes-crushing fatigue, using a computer powered by three hamsters on a treadmill, is kicking your sweet ass up one side of the street and down the other when it comes to covering sports in Coupeville. In his spare time.

Let me go full time and the carnage will be epic.

But, to go full time, I would need your help. I would need the people of Coupeville (and supporters of independent, non-Evil Empire funded journalism everywhere) to hold up your wallets and scream, “Up yours, hosers!!”

And then become one of my Best Ever Friends.

That’s right. It worked at David’s DVD Den, where 264 people donated DVD’s to our cause in two years, and it could work again.

Consider it a home-grown version of Kickstarter. If I can raise $5,000, it would allow me a four-to-six month window to devote myself fully to promoting and chronicling the exploits and stories of Coupevillians, present and past.

I am not asking for a new car (White Thundarrrrr can not be replaced), a bigger TV or any of a thousand trivial things (not even for you to renew my Netflix subscription). I don’t have a cell phone and don’t want one and have no plans to head to Aruba any time soon.

All I’m seeking is a way to pay my most basic bills (rent, propane, electricity, etc.) while being able to step into the streets and open a David-sized can o’ whoop-ass on Goliath. For the kids, who deserve to see their names in bold and deserve to be celebrated for throwing themselves head-first across a cement court in pursuit of a tennis ball, Ben Etzell-style — things you will not see in the cookie-cutter corporate drone papers that camp in our fair town.

And, just like in the DVD Den days, I will run a list of David’s Best Ever Friends. It’ll be on the top right hand side of the main page here, forever etched in the ether of the internets.

No minimums. No maximums. Every penny appreciated.

Though, if you want to fund the entire project in one fell swoop, I will wear the costume of your choice and spend a weekend waving at people either in front of your business or at the overpass intersection. I will promote your business or cause by covering my car with whatever bumper stickers, signs or other material you wish for six months. I will promote your business/cause on my site with a shamelessness that will be astonishing.

Basically, other than asking me to kill your mother-in-law for her insurance money or expecting me to wash White Thundarrrrr, not much is off the table, is what I’m saying.

So, think about it. You can email me at davidsvien@hotmail.com. Write me at 145 N. Sherman, Coupeville, WA 98239. Call me at (360) 678-5650.

Every penny for Coupeville! Every penny so we do not go quietly into that good night, accepting the Canadian Corporate Overlords as our masters!

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