Now is the time for your tears

Now is the time for your tears

“William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll…”

Folk music has always been a news medium of sorts.  In an age where we have news delivered to us via the phones in our pockets or the watches on our wrists, it’s hard to imagine getting your news for the first time from a physical newspaper, and even harder to imagine hearing a story for the first time on vinyl.

I heard this song for the first time on cassette.  I know it didn’t resonate within me then the way that it does now.  I know I enjoyed the tune, but it didn’t really mean much to me.  In fact, it wasn’t until several years ago that I actually researched the history of the tune.

What continues to hit home with me about this Dylan ballad is the way he tells the listener, “now ain’t the time for your tears”–as if to say, “just wait. . .the story gets worse.”

William “Billy” Zantzinger (Dylan changed the name to Zanzinger in his song) was attending the Spinster’s ball in Baltimore, MD in 1963.  Stories show that he had been drinking throughout the day and arrived at the ball intoxicated.  He was rude, belligerent, and generally disorderly.  Accounts of the evening say that he was stumbling through the party, falling down while dancing, he hit his wife, and even started a fight with another attendee.  While at the bar attempting to order another drink, the bartender (Hattie Carroll) was not responding quickly enough, so he hit her with his cane while tossing racial epithets at her (Carroll was black).  I say again, he hit her with his cane.

“Now ain’t the time for your tears. . .”

Zantzinger was arrested for assault (not just on Carroll, but for striking other guests/employees as well).

Not long after being struck by Zantzinger, Carroll complained of not feeling well and was taken to the hospital where she later died of a stroke.

“Now ain’t the time for your tears. . .”

The next morning Zantzinger was released on bail before the officers of the court heard of Carroll’s death at the hospital.  He walked out of the jail on $600 bond with a return court date.  The charge was later upgraded to murder.

“Now ain’t the time for your tears. . .”

Zantzinger’s father served in the Maryland legislature.  Zantzinger had a fairly significant plot of land (tobacco farm).  Zantzinger’s family was wealthy, prosperous, known. . .  Carroll was a 54 year old, black, mother of 13, bartender in a hotel.  In attempt to avoid a trial centered on race, Zantzinger opted to forgo his right to a jury trial and asked to have the trial settled by a judge.  He wanted to keep all this as quiet as possible.

After hearing the facts of the case, a three judge panel concluded that the blows from Zantzinger’s cane alone could not have caused Carroll’s stroke and subsequent death.  Therefore, Zantzinger was sentenced to six months in prison after reducing the charge from murder to manslaughter.

The murder of a minority, hidden from the eyes of the press, allegedly using familial influence to lower the charges. . .and receive 6 months for killing a woman. . .

Now?  Now is it time?

Yes.

“Oh you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears, bury the rag deep in your face, now is the time for your tears.”

There are a multitude of injustices in this story.  Carroll, a black woman in the 1960’s was marginalized because of the color of her skin.  We (as society) thought that was ok.  We thought selective marginalization was ok because society saw an actual rights difference between whites, and literally everyone else.  Injustices were allowed.  They occured on nearly every level, and in this instance…this story…they keep getting worse.  They.  Keep.  Getting.  Worse.

Welcome to North Carolina–where we will do our best to continue marginalizing people for a multitude of reasons.  We have a fairly rich history here of hate.  Of the 917 hate groups in America, 31 of them are in our state (placing us in the top 10 states with the most hate groups).  We are home to black hate groups, white hate groups, Jewish hate groups, Muslim hate groups, immigrant hate groups, and right in downtown Raleigh–in our capitol building, we house a hate group that openly hates the LBGTQ community.  (We may be 34th in education, but we’re top 10 in hate!!) (sources:  Education; Hate-Map)

“Now ain’t the time for your tears.”

Almost a year ago I wrote a piece about HB2 in North Carolina called, When you gotta go. . .  For those of you who are unfamiliar with this specific piece of legislation:  North Carolina decided it would be a great idea to force individuals to use the restroom that is on their birth certificate rather than the bathroom of the gender they identify with.  Causing the following folks:

to be forced to use the women’s room (how do you feel about one of these burly lads following your little girl into the bathroom?).

And these nice folks:

to all use the men’s room.  This.  This is how we want to treat folks in the Tar Heel State.  This is how we make folks feel welcome.  This is what we thought would be a good idea.  This was for “safety.”

“Now ain’t the time for your tears.”

The nation took notice though.  Boy did they ever.  Bruce Springsteen and Pearl Jam (among others) cancelled concerts across the state because of the bill.  Some entertainers held their shows, but publically donated all of the funds to LGBT charities.  The ACC moved it’s football championship from Charlotte to Florida in protest of the state’s decision.  The NCAA vowed to move all tournament style events out of the state.  The NBA pulled its all star game.  Conventions decided they would be better off being held outside the state’s hateful borders.  Businesses stopped major expansions in North Carolina.  Companies placed travel bans on the state telling their employees that not only did they not require them to travel here, they warned them against it.  (For the record, Beyonce didn’t care–her concert went off without a hitch).

Our state’s response at the time?  The legislature dug its heels in and fought harder citing the protection of our children and our neighbors from the vile pedophiles who would dress up in clothes they didn’t belong in to try to go into a bathroom and touch children.  (For the record, I think we should protect children–however I’m far more worried about a football camp at Penn State than I’ll ever be worried about the bathroom at a fast food joint in Harnett County.) Economic consequences (real and potential) be damned, HB2 stood.

“Now ain’t the time for your tears.”

The people spoke up!  We elected a new governor.  We ousted a Pat and got ourselves a Roy.  When Roy Cooper took office, he immediately took aim at HB2.  In December, representatives from across the state agree that if the City of Charlotte would just overturn their ordinance that started this whole mess, a repeal of HB2 would be guaranteed.  In December, the Charlotte city council held an emergency meeting to repeal all kinds of ordinances those that involve specifically the LBGT ordinances, and those that do not in order to gain a repeal state-wide of HB2.  There is hope.  Citizens of the state wake up to see that Charlotte has relented and now the general assembly is going to repeal HB2 once and for all. . .

. . .not so fast.  The General Assembly can’t quite bring themselves to a repeal that they promised.

“Now ain’t the time for your tears.”

A few weeks ago, the house and senate vote to repeal HB2 and replace it with a bland 17 lines that really misses the mark, but it seems to fulfill the necessary language for the NCAA and the ACC to bring some revenue back to the state.  It doesn’t address the issues, but instead generically states that the state alone can mandate bathrooms and who can use them, and doesn’t let anyone (state or local) change the ordinances until 2020.

This isn’t even a moral victory to me.  It’s not the mea culpa I was hoping for (though never expected), it’s not even an acknowledgement–its just a bill that satisfies the NCAA’s requirement to bring sports back to the state.  It’s not great, but…hang on–We.  Keep.  Getting.  Worse.

“Now ain’t the time for your tears.”

This week, we’ve reached a new low.  The source of hate in the state (the capitol building) has somehow managed to out-hate itself.  This week, representatives (plural) made a push to ban gay marriage in the state.  House Bill 780 wanted to say that the Supreme Court’s decision to legalize same sex marriage nationwide is, “null and void in the State of North Carolina.”  Representatives (and I want to call them out by name): Michael Speciale (New Bern), Larry Pittman (Concord), Mike Clampitt (Bryson County), and Carl Ford (Rowan County), put forth the, “Uphold Historical Marriage Act” in an attempt to ban gay marriage and essentially uphold the hateful Amendment One.

“Anyone can propose a bill.”  This is very true.  There have been hundreds of proposed bills even this week, and many (especially this one) won’t ever see the light of day on the floor of the house.  That’s not the point.  Several congressmen and women have made statements like the following

But, that’s not really the point either is it?  It can’t be.  Whether the bill gets heard or not (even at a committee level) is secondary, or even tertiary to the fact that someone, somewhere thinks this is ok.  AND, we elected them.

Now?

Yes.  Now.

“Oh you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears, bury the rag deep in your face, now is the time for your tears.”

How is it possible this is still an issue? How have we not gotten past this?  How is my state perpetually moving backwards when it comes to equal rights for all people irrespective of race, socio economic status, religious creed, sexual orientation, or sexual identity?  How are we this hateful, and HOW ARE WE THIS HATEFUL IN OUR LAW MAKING BODY?  Four people signed this bill to bring it to the assembly.  Four.  This should be the proverbial nail in their coffins with respect to their political career, but it won’t be.

We aren’t even that astonished as a people that this bill got suggested.

We aren’t even that ashamed.

We don’t really even care.

I can confidently say this, because if we did, we’d do more about it.  We’d say more about it.  I’m still extremely upset about HB2, yes.  I’m still extremely embarrassed about HB2, yes.  This hurts though.  This hurts me at my most fundamental level for the friends I have that are a part of the LGBT community who are still facing constant judgment for the lifestyle they lead–for the people they are.

The reality of the world that we live in is different than it was 50 years ago.  Its different than it was 10 years ago.  Why are we so slow to adapt to it?  Why are we hanging on to the fears and hate of the past generations?  Why is it so important to exclude groups of people?

It isn’t because marriage is the religious institution it once was–the divorce rate is higher than it has ever been–so don’t tell me we are socially trying to protect an institution that we have decided really isn’t worth protecting in our own lives.

It isn’t because God Almighty says it’s wrong–while we have legalized gambling in the form of a state lottery.

It’s because we don’t understand it–it’s because it isn’t for us–it’s because at some basic level–we are afraid.

There’s nothing to be afraid of.  No one is trying to make you like them–love the people they love–be attracted to the sex that they are attracted to–identify with a gender you don’t…some people–really good people–just want to live life.

As it relates to marriage, why shouldn’t gay and lesbian couples have rights to health information in the hospital as a spouse?  Why shouldn’t they have access to bank records as a spouse?  Why shouldn’t they be able to adopt as spouses?  What is the issue with this?

I’ll leave you with more Dylan–from the same album (and perhaps better known).  It’s amazing to me that Dylan’s words from 50 years ago ring even truer today:

“Come gather ’round people wherever you roam
And admit that the waters around you have growntimes changing
Accept it soon, you’ll be drenched to the bone

If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’, you could sink like a stone
For the times, they are a-changin’

Come mothers and fathers throughout the land
And don’t criticize what you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters, beyond your command

Your old road is rapidly agin’
So get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand
For the times, they are a-changin’

For the times, they are a-changin’

The line, it is drawn, the curse, it is cast
The slow one now will later be fast
The present now will later be past

The order is rapidly fadin’
And the first one now will later be last
For the times they are a-changin'”

Let’s get on board.  Let’s be better.

I NEED YOUR HELP. . .

I love films.  Films of all kinds.  Action, comedy, drama, thriller, horror, animated, short, feature. . .it doesn’t matter.  I love them all.

In years past, I’ve made resolutions (of sorts–I hate resolutions) to watch a certain number of films from a certain genre or a certain year, or that have won certain awards.  It’s never been a public declaration (as I suppose it is about to be this year), but this year I wanted help with my selections.

I want to watch documentaries this year.  My goal is lofty:  1 per week.  I also hope to write something about each film I watch.  Here’s the problem:  the genre of documentaries can be as vast (if not more so) as all of the rest of the genres of films combined.  

So, what are the best you’ve seen?  What are the must see films?  What made you think?  What would you say is a documentary I HAVE to see?

My goal is to get at least the next few months covered from your recommendations.  Either throw them in the comments below, tweet them to me with the hashtag #docrec, or post them on my Facebook page.  Ideally, I’d like to find ones that I can view easily on Netflix or rent through Apple, but I’m not opposed to watching them in any form.  I already have one “slated” to be seen in the theatre when it premiers at some point this year, but I still need your recomendations.

Also, if you’re interested in watching any of these and discussing them (over water, coffee, or an adult beverage), I’d love to do that as well.  There’s a fantastic brewery not far from here with large tables that would be great for a discussion of sorts.

So throw your recomendations at me, I’ll compile a list (and try really hard to adhere to it). . .and we’ll see where this goes. Either way, wish me luck.

~wookie 

“Merry Christmas, I love you”

This time of year means a lot of things to a lot of people.  Foods, smells, sounds, sights. . .all conjure up memories of seasons past and take you back to a time or a place. . .

This time of year always reminds me of Red Springs, North Carolina.  I was young.  It was hot.

I don’t recall what the temperature was outside, but inside it was not a single degree below 89.  It couldn’t have been.

My grandfather’s home on Peachtree Street was undoubtedly the warmest house in America hottest place on earth.  My grandfather had built (by hand) a wood-burning stove that had a blower motor on the bottom that could have heated the neighborhood.  But it didn’t.  It only heated his home.

It was so hot inside that house that the wall paper sagged.  Glasses of ice water evaporated in minutes.  To a kid of less than 10, I was certain this is what the surface of the sun felt like.

We sat around in our underwear sweating (which immediately evaporated) and we watched Carolina basketball.  It was so hot and dry that breathing through your nose made it whistle.  There were several times I was sure there was a stoppage in play in the game, but alas, it was just my father taking a deep breath.

My grandfather sat in the corner of the living room watching the game on TV and listening to Woody Durham call the game on the radio.  There was a delay between the picture on the TV and the call on the radio.  It was somewhat surreal.  Before I was old enough to understand what was happening, I was certain my grandfather had a television that told the future as the events always happened several moments before we heard them unfold on the radio.

Conversation was sparse.

“That was a good shot.  Now get back on D” was followed by five minutes of silence.

I don’t know if we were just silent in observance of the games, or we were afraid to expend the energy necessary to speak out of fear of generating just enough excess heat to cause spontaneous combustion.

We stuck to the furniture–and it was cloth.

My grandfather would occasionally look across the room over the top of his glasses and ask, “Is anyone cold?”

Cold?

There was no correct answer to this question, as no matter how you responded there was only one ultimate response:  one more log on the fire.

My grandfather used welders gloves to open the hatch on the furnace.  It glowed from heat.  Opening the doors exposed everyone in the room to a blast of heat that would singe the hairs on the inside of your nose.  The furnace, when opened, looked like an angry monster that breathed fire and was ready to eat any amount of wood you could place inside of it–and immediately be ready to take on more.  We have often joked that this furnace could hold nearly a cord of wood.  Thinking back on it now, I’m not certain it was a joke.  In my childhood, this thing was larger than life.

My grandfather would place piece after piece of dried wood in that monster, stoke the fire, close the door, and walk across the living room in his flannel lined pants and his flannel button up (with a thermal undershirt) and sit back down to continue to pull for the Heels.

He was satisfied.  He had provided.  His people were safe from the cold.  

I was miserable.

I wish I knew then what I now know.

That stove was provision.  Security.  Love.  It kept us warm and it was his way of showing just how much he loved us.  For a man of few words, it was gestures like these that said quite simply, “I love you.”  And, judging by the temperature in that living room, he loved us far more than I could have ever imagined.

I often wonder if the current occupants in that house appreciate that stove.  I wonder if they even use it. . .

This Christmas, I hope you take time to recognize the person in your life throwing logs into the fire.  The person who maybe doesn’t say it, but shows you just how much they love you.  Maybe its by cooking you a meal, opening a car door, shoveling off your drive way, or writing you a post that hopefully makes you smile.

In a multitude of ways, and with all of the hope I have, Merry Christmas–I love you all.  

The End of an Era

The End of an Era

I have always been a fan of the UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship).  I remember renting (on VHS) the original UFC fights and watching them with Dad in our old apartment.  I don’t know precisely why I’ve always loved it, but the strategy, the combat. . .all of it has always had me on the edge of my seat. 

The sport has evolved in the twenty or so years I’ve been watching it as fighters have become multi-disciplined, and the rules have changed (disallowing direct intentional groin shots–1:15 in this video for those who don’t know what I’m talking about).  The personalities have changed too.  From absolute over the top, incendiary guys like Tito Ortiz, to quiet/reserved beasts like Anderson Silva, the UFC has gotten so much better at selling their fighters as well as they sell the actual fights.

One of my favorite fighters is Urijah Fabr.  He’s a beast in the cage but seems to be a true gem outside of the cage.  He looks like a friend of mine (Pastor Matthew Bradham)–serisously, has anyone ever seen them together at the same time–I didn’t think so:

The California Kid (Faber’s nickname) has an impressive 33-10 record, and is a former WEC title holder (he held that belt for an amazing 2 years).  Tonight, in his hometown of Sacramento, Faber puts on the gloves and enters the cage for the last time.  I’ll be rooting for him, but win or lose, I’m going to be a fan of this guy and his fighting for years to come. 

An era in the sport of mixed martial arts ends tonight.  That era isn’t the era I want to write about though.  

Another era ended today.  This era ended more quietly, and perhaps even more appropriately, with a prayer.  

Today was the last graduation at Campbell University which would include long-time University Registrar, J. David McGirt–my father.  Of course, I’m biased.  Of course I am.  

I grew up on the campus of Campbell University.  It has always been home to me.  It will always be home to me.  My entire life (and some years before I was born), my father has been a part of Campbell University.  If you’re a former student in the last 40 years, he registered you for classes, he processed your grades, he sent out your transcripts, he organized your graduation (he did none of this alone–he has been blessed with some of the best teammates ever in the history of office staffs–and he’ll be the first to give them the majority, if not all, of the credit).

He has spent thousands of hours counseling students to make sure their academic goals are achieved, he has evaluated more transcripts than he could ever count, and he has been out on the lawn in front of D. Rich at 4:00 in the morning with his staff and some very able ROTC volunteers placing every graduating student’s name on rows of string he laid out the night before to make sure that every graduate knew exactly where they were lining up for their big day.

When the president handed a student their diploma, my dad handed it to the president:

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His office printed the diploma hanging on your wall, and processed every single transcript you needed for graduate school or a job. . .

The campus has changed.  There are co-ed dorms (different floors for men and women), we have football, traffic circles, a new gym, a medical school, a school of engineering, the Law School has moved to Raleigh, Barnes and Noble runs the bookstore, and we even have a Starbucks.

There’s a new president, a new dean at the School of Business, a new women’s basketball coach, and in January there will be a new Registrar too.  

When I got my undergraduate diploma, then President Wiggins saw me coming and stepped aside and allowed my father to hand me my diploma.  When I got my MBA, the acting dean of the business school also stepped aside and allowed my father to hood me:

Having a dad as the registrar of your college wasn’t easy.  It was literally impossible to hide a grade from my parents as he literally processed them all.  I remember one conversation very vividly:

“Son, how do you think you finished up this semester?”

“Pretty decent.  I’m thinking I could have done better in a class or two.”

“Which ones?”

“Well mainly History.”

“How do you think you did in that class?”

“I think I got a B.”

“Ok.  Try again.”

“No way!!  I got an A?!?”

He laughs.  But not a funny laugh.  “Try again.”

“Oh no.  I got a C?”

“Try again.”

That said, my dad never interfered.  He never loomed over me (as he easily could have), he was never in contact with my professors to inquire about my academic well being (as clearly he should have been), yet he was always there if I needed him.  I knew where to find him, and could go by his office any time I needed him, but he let me live my life, and learn (and fail), and pick myself up again, and learn to be a man.

There are so many people who have left their indelible mark on that campus.  There are many still there who continue to do so.  From professors, to physical plant workers, to deans, to presidents, to coaches, to cafeteria staff…  Campbell has always been about people–about family.  Perhaps that’s why I’m always drawn to Buies Creek.  Perhaps that’s why I always look to hire Campbell graduates.  Campbell is a family.  I am confident Campbell will always be a family. 

Many students will never know all the things that go into their graduation service (many fewer truly will realize all of the working pieces that go into their education).  My dad never did his job to the best of his ability for recognition, or for money, or to climb the corporate ladder.  He did it for each and every student that has ever entered that institution and for the fortunate few who were able to matriculate and take that walk across the stage.

I know that the McGirt mark on Campbell’s campus won’t be on the outside of a building, a name on a court, or in the form of an honorary class room (it has been a long running joke in our family that they may one day name a bathroom after him).  My dad leaves behind a silent, stoic legacy.  He is respected, trusted, and admired by most that knew him and worked with him.  He made life a little bit easier for many who will never even know that his is the signature on their grades.

For two of the proudest moments in my life, my dad was right there, handing me (or hooding me) what I had worked so hard for. I knew he was proud. I could see it through my own tears–plus he told me.

Today, I’m the proud one.  My father culminated a 47 year career with the following prayer:

“My, how I love this place.  Would you pray with me?

Heavenly Father and Holy Shepherd of us all.  I believe that you have called us all here.  Every candidate, every parent, every supporter–all who have made this place a sanctuary, and a place from which to commence.  Father, these grandparents, and parents, siblings, spouses and guests gathered here today have done well by these graduates. I have looked around, observed this audience and have seen the love, the joy, the apprehension perhaps–the relief in their faces.  And even as I am praying, many other prayers are bing lifted up for them on their behalf.  Father, we commit these candidates and their families to Your care.  But Father, we can not give them up.  They are we, and they are ones with us forever.  They are Campbell.  They carry our hopes and dreams forward with them.  Please Father continue to let your light shine upon this place and those assmembled here.  Guide our steps forward from this place.  Use these new graduates in Your world where and when they can do the most to glorify You and further Your kingdom.  Father, many of those among us this morning are serving, or will soon be serving, or have family members in our military service throughout the world.  Please protect them and bring them home safely.  Father, on this side of paradise, this assembly will not gather this way again.  Until we rejoice again together, abide with us and grant us Thy comfort and care.  In Jesus name and for His sake we pray, Amen.”

I am proud of my dad.  I am proud to be a Camel.  I am proud to be a McGirt.  Every single day–but especially today.

The Creek is Rising (Women’s Basketball 11/16/16: at MERCER)

Game two on the season was a bit of Jekyll and Hyde scenario, as this looked like a totally different Lady Camel team than the one that took the floor last Friday night in Gore Arena.  I don’t know if it was being on the road, or the pressure of a televised game (ESPN 3), but we got off to a slow start.  A very slow start.  The Lady Camels finished the first quarter with 8 points on 27% shooting.  That’s a rough way to start any game, but especially on the road, and especially against an experienced Mercer team.

These are the kind of games where you learn about your team.  That being said, this is only the second game of the season and this team is young.  Very young.  Kahlia Lawerence for Mercer put up 29 points in 36 minutes of play and she was tough.  She had one of the best jump stops I’ve seen in men’s or women’s basketball in quite some time and she was excellent at creating her own space.  It seemed like no matter what we did all night we didn’t have an answer for her.

We seemed sluggish.  The, “pop” and “hustle” that was there last Friday felt like a distant memory for most of the game.  We seemed content to slow the pace and establish our offense after crossing half court (exactly the opposite of Friday as well).  There wasn’t a lot of motion away from the ball–especially in the paint.  We were successful last week when we pushed the pace and that style of play was not present tonight.

Hustle gets you points.  Hustle gets you turnovers.  We got out-hustled tonight.  A quick look at some key indicators tells one all they need to know about who was pushing the pace:  Mercer had 22 points off of turnovers compared to 5 from Campbell.  Campbell had zero fast break points and only 2 second chance points.  Our shooting wasn’t great, but our followup needed work as well.  And. . .we were getting out hustled.  That’s a recipe for disaster.  

The game was closer than the 76-60 final score indicated, but it wasn’t ever pretty.  The Camels need a solid case of amnesia after this one.  There’s work to be done all around, but I’m more than confident they will bounce back.  Coach Fisher will undoubtedly take this game back to the proverbial drawing board and regroup.  Looking forward to seeing Saturday’s matchup at Gore Arena.

The Creek is Rising (Men’s basketball 11/15/2016)


Since the final buzzer, I’ve been trying to think of something to say about tonight’s game.  Well, truthfully I’ve been trying to think of several things to say about the game.  I think this post may upset a few people (and believe me–while that isn’t my intent, if this strikes a nerve, maybe it needs to).

I was excited to see Coach McGeehan’s Camels take the court tonight.  It was the first men’s home game of the season, and I was ready to see what we may look like.  I missed the Oklahoma State game on TV because I was watching the Lady Camels last Friday.  A look at the numbers from that game told me it went about like I expected it to.  What the numbers didn’t tell me is how the team looked.  How did they handle that loss?  Were their heads held high?  Did they show frustration?  Were they a mess?

I hoped tonight would answer some of those questions.  I was impressed with the offense.  We seemed to have abandoned the half court offense we opened the season with last year and ran a lot more tonight.  Last season, it felt like we were waiting until the ball crossed mid-court to start our offense.  Tonight, we were moving well without the ball while the ball was coming up the court.  THAT was encouraging.  Really encouraging.  The Camels looked like they were having fun, and that put a smile on my face and the faces of the few fans in attendance (more on this in a moment).  

The Camels started two freshmen (Damontez Oliver and Cory Gensler) along with Whitfield (Jr.-R), Eudy (So.), and Clemons (So.–2015-16 Freshman of the year).  Our freshmen starters combined for 20 points (10 a piece), and the rest of the starters put up 34 points (Clemons had 28 of those-4 for 4 from the 3 point line).  We played all 15 that dressed tonight as well, which is to be expected in these early season games.  Dunn’s own Nick Parker put up 9 points in 6 minutes of play.

All in all, it was a great night to be a Campbell fan.

Except when you looked around and saw Gore arena mostly empty.  I’m realistic.  I don’t expect every basketball game to be a sellout, but I do expect the student section to be more full that it was (and was all of last season).  When I got to Campbell (a lot of years ago), “Lee’s Army” (named after former coach Billy Lee) was disbanding and there wasn’t a ton of interest in Campbell Games.  I remember my sophomore year listening to an away game on the radio where we put up single digit points by halftime.  I remember when we weren’t good–and by not good, I mean kind of bad.  I also remember showing up to Carter Gym (yes, current Campbell students–we actually played our home games in Carter Gym).  We started the Camel Crazies.  There was a group of about two dozen of us at first but by the end of my freshman year if you weren’t in Carter Gym an hour before tip you didn’t have a seat in the student section.  

It was hot.  It was loud.  It was small.  We lost.  A lot.  We didn’t have a winning season 4 of the 5 years I was in Buies Creek (men’s).  That didn’t matter.  We supported our basketball teams (and soccer, and baseball, and softball, and wrestling. . .).  We supported our classmates and our friends.  I was close with a lot of the atheletes during my time at Campbell, and I loved supporting them.  Why?  Because they were my friends.  I sat next to a lot of them in class.  Studied with even more.  We planned our weeks around sporting events.  It was a priority to us, and let’s face it:  there isn’t much else to do in Buies Creek (back then we didn’t have Starbucks, Moe’s, Chick-fil-a, Subway…really anything besides the two cafeterias, and Chelle’s Place).  I’ve maintained relationships with a lot of those men and women (though admittedly not as closely as I’d like…such is life I suppose).  

Notice that this game was, “standing room only”

A couple of hours of your life isn’t a lot to give to support your classmates.  A couple of hours of your life isn’t a lot to give to support your University.  Why is the student section so consistently empty?  It shouldn’t take a t-shirt, or 400 sandwiches to get you to go to a sporting event.  I don’t have the unreasonable expectation that every event on Campbell’s campus will be a sell out, but come on CU-we are better than this.  This is free, and it is a part of your college experience.  

There’s a group of Crazy’s that I saw at nearly every game last year and they have been faithful at both home basketball games this season.  To those few, I tip my hat.  Keep up the support–you’ll never regret it.  To those who aren’t coming to the gym, do it.  You need to.  You should support your classmates, your friends, and your University.  Win or lose, these people are a part of your community.  Treat them that way.  

Ok.  Fine.  I’ll hop down off my soapbox (for now).  I think the Camels are putting a good, “product”on the floor in Gore arena, and I’m excited to see what the coming months hold.  

#thecreekisrising

Things I’ve learned from this election

Things I’ve learned from this election

I don’t love where our country is right now.  We are at each others’ throats and there seems to be some sense of perverse pleasure from tearing one another down.  I’m not a fan of this.  I have always aligned with the Republican party because of (mainly) fiscal issues.  I have always felt as though the Republican party had far better fiscal policies.  I have at times (and many, many, many times) loathed the party’s social policies:

  • We (republicans) have attacked poor people and not the problem of poverty
  • We (republicans) have attacked women who have had abortions and not the problem of abortion (nor have we addressed the socioeconomic reprucussions of outright banning abortions)
  • We (republicans) have attacked immigrants and not the problem of illegal immigration
  • We (republicans) have attacked those who stood up for individual races without listening to the actual issues

I am not representative of these attacks, nor are many people I know personally.  I don’t know many people who self identify as, “republicans” who fail to see the importance of each of the individual above issues, or who fail to see the problem with the way the, “party” mishandles these issues.  One of the problems is that we as individuals have very little say in how the party is portrayed, or how it represents itself on the issues.  Yet another problem is that we are often left with the option of voting for someone with whom we only agree partially (“partially” is generous here).

With that in mind, I don’t feel like republicans who supported Trump are being given a fair shake.  It isn’t fair to say that a vote for Trump is a, “vote for xenophobia, fear mongering,  misogyny, islamaphobia, discrimination, or sexual assault.”  Yet, that’s what many democrats wanted republicans to feel as though they were individually bad people for choosing to vote for Trump.  What many didn’t understand (and what I feel like I’ve learned), is that this really only fueled the fire for so many to go out and vote.  This type of rhetoric really pissed people off, and they showed it at the polls.  Also, this hurt.  This hurt a lot of people.  There are people who I know who supported Trump in this election that were genuinely offended by this type of thing (possibly in the same way that many Liberals were offended by Trump’s candidacy).  

Here’s the difference:  feeling like Trump is a bad person doesn’t make it ok to call your neighbor a bad person for wanting a Republican president.  There were people who solely voted for Trump because he wasn’t Hillary.  I know many folks who don’t agree with Trump on many levels, but disagreed with Hillary on many more.  

Republicans have allowed themselves to be painted into a corner by some of the most brilliant rhetoric in human history.  If you didn’t agree with Obama, you were labeled a racist.  If you didn’t agree with Hillary, you have been labeled a misogynist.  If you think that we need a better solution on immigration, then you discriminate…  Yes, there are racists, misogynists, and discriminators, but disagreeing doesn’t automatically make you one of those.  Yet, democrats make that claim liberally and openly.  This is part of what has caused such a significant divide between peoples.  This type of thing isn’t okay.  We have to stop this.

Similarly, it wouldn’t be fair for me to say something like: “Look at the civil unrest protesting Trump’s election right now.  Democrats only support a democracy when their candidate wins, and when their candidate doesn’t, they are for civil unrest and they support looting and riots.  Need further proof?  Just look at the Black Lives Matter movement and how it supports the same ideals.”  How unfair is that?  Its utter absurdity, yet it’s what some people are saying.

We have to stop this type of rhetoric.  It isn’t helping.  Both sides have to stop.

Democrats are good people.  I know this because many of my close friends openly voted for Hillary, and they are rational, reasonable human beings. None of them are anarchists.  None of the ones closest to me have uttered the phrase, “Not my president.”  None of them are talking about moving to Canada.  It would be unfair for me to group them with the people that do those things or say those things.  Several of my closest friends have said words like, “he’s not who I voted for, but it’s who we have–now let’s see what he can do.”  

It’s ok to not like Trump.  He is our President though.  It’s ok to disagree with him on every fundamental level.  It’s ok to think that HE is a bad guy.  It’s not okay to conflate the people who wanted a change in the White House with a person who has done deplorable things.  They are not the same.  

You don’t have to explain to your daughter how this country failed her.  You don’t have to explain to your LGBT friends or family how this country failed them.  You don’t have to explain to your immigrant friends how this country failed them.  Why?  Because it didn’t.  This country is not defined by the politicians that run it.  This country is defined by us.  You DO have to raise your daughter to believe she can be anything she wants to be.  You do have to love your LGBT friends and family and personally support their each and every endeavor.  You do have to love your neighbor–irrespective of where they are from or what they believe or who they worship and fight for their rights just as you do your own.  That’s what this country is about and that is what is going to heal us.

I also learned that Democrats really didn’t show up for Hillary the way they thought they were going to:

Maybe this is due to the polls stating emphatically that Hillary would win in a landslide and folks didn’t feel like they needed to vote, maybe democrats overall didn’t have the faith in their candidate the way they did in the previous two elections.  Whatever the reason, the numbers don’t lie.  50% of the country didn’t even vote and of those that did, they were nearly split down the middle.  Perhaps this is the cause of all of the unrest.

Lastly, I’ve learned that I love a lot of people a lot more than I thought I did.  I don’t like the fighting over politics.  I don’t like feeling like I’m at odds with close friends over something that at the end of the day doesn’t change our lives in a direct, meaningful way.  I know I’m not at odds with anyone…so why does it feel that way?  I refuse to have friendships weakened over an election.  I refuse to have anyone believe I think less of them because of who they voted for.  Similarly, I refuse to think less of anyone for their political beliefs–even when they are in direct opposition to mine.  

I am a republican.  I don’t love Trump.  I’m not a xenophobic, fear mongerer, misogynist, islamaphobic, discriminator, nor do I support sexual assault.  I actually deplore all of those things.  As a republican, I feel as though it is my duty to fight all of those things with everything I have in me while still supporting a man I don’t agree with.  It won’t be easy, but that’s my challenge and it is one I take very seriously.  I truly hope you will all join me. 

So let’s have a beer, a slice, or a cup of coffee and figure out how we will all get through this together.  After all, the red cups are back. . .

 

The Creek is Rising (Women’s basketball 11/11/16)

The Creek is Rising (Women’s basketball 11/11/16)


Man.  I will openly admit.  I was truly excited about tonight.  Whatever.  I don’t care.  If you know me, you know I love Campbell sports–and I’ve always loved our women’s basketball team.  I was a bit apprehensive walking in tonight.  This is the first time in my lifetime (that I can remember) that Wanda Watkins wasn’t on the bench.  I am a homer, and I have always been a fan of her–as a person, as a coach, and as a woman.  She’s an amazing woman who recruited and coached amazing young women.  To know that she is still with the University in some compactly gives me some relief, but I do miss her.  

Ok.  So I did my homework prior to the game and one thing that I noticed is this is a relatively young team (2 seniors and 4 freshmen).  I was interested to see how this team would play together.  Amanda Coffer is gone from last year (choosing to end her college basketball career early), and we graduated some of my favorite players.  Two favorites remained, and I was excited to see them in action tonight.  Summer Price, a Jr. guard and Sarah Smith, a Jr. forward.  Last year they were the epitome of hustle for me.  Every time either were on the court they gave 100% and it was just so much fun to watch.  Price emerged as a on floor leader last year–always encouraging her teammates and always pushing the ball and the pace of play.  I was interested to see how she would play tonight…

When I walked in, the first thing I noticed was Sarah Smith in an arm sling…not good.  Already disappointed and I hadn’t even made it to my seat.

Starting line up announced, and Campbell started two Freshmen.  Interesting.  Off the tip, Summer Price turned the ball over on the offensive end of the court.  She dribbled into traffic and got stripped.  Not an excellent start.  Campbell ended up stealing the ball back but was unable to capitalize on a couple of shots and the ball went back to St. Andrews.  Ugggh.  Slow start.  The eternal pessimist in me lamented aloud, “this may be a long season.”  We hit a layup, a few free throws, another layup and had a 6-1 lead.  We brought in another freshman (Breanna Foster) and things took a turn.  Foster can shoot.  She hit 2 back to back 3’s and suddenly had a 12-1 lead.  

First quarter ended with the Camels up 21-7.  Ok.  Not a bad start.  The Camels really pushed the pace in the 2nd quarter.  This was a lot of fun to watch.  Some missed layups aside, it wasn’t a terrible quarter for the Camels.  At the half, the Camels were up 41-14.

The same 5 ladies who started the game started the second half, but after only 3 points in right at 2 minutes, wholesale substitutions were in order.  Almost immediately Foster nailed another 3 and an immediate turnover by St. Andrews led to an easy Campbell layup with a foul, “and one.”  Six quick points and you could see the energy gone from the St. Andrews team.  Campbell led at the end of the 3rd:  67-18.  

The fourth quarter was much of the same with the Camels really pushing the pace.  At some point in the fourth (and probably when she hit another three), I exclaimed, “Foster is my new favorite!”  Premature–I know.  But man she was a lot of fun to watch.  I  love the hustle.  Love the fight away from the ball.  Hustle ends up getting folks easy points. . .like this layup from Foster:


The camels dominated this game and ended up on the good side of a blowout:

 

Lots of positives from this game.  So many in fact, that the negatives aren’t even going to be mentioned here.  Here are some of the things I saw that make me look forward to the rest of the season:

  • Our Freshmen:  Foster led all scorers with 19 points.  Guard Kelly Post had some key minutes and added 4 points to the total.  Hayley Barber only had 4 points as well but she also had an assist and a block.  Taya Bolden also added 4 points to the total with an assist and a block.  Overall, 31 points from our freshmen is more than positive.
  • Our pace:  we put up 94 points.  94.  That’s an amazing total for any basketball game, and one I’m not used to seeing in Gore arena.  That’s exciting.  
  • Cribb and Bowns:  they put up 11 and 14 and those are great totals from ladies who didn’t put up a ton of minutes/points last season.  
  • Free Throws:  overall the Camels shot only 67.6% from the line tonight, but their best percentage by quarter was in the 4th.  This is crucial because it tells me they still had legs in the 4th.  Were it not for an abysmal 3rd quarter, they would have finished over 70% for the game.  Still though, 23 points from the charity stripe is respectable.
  • Hustle:  These ladies ran.  And ran.  And ran some more.  I freaking loved it.  There was a noticeable area of hustle that wasn’t there last year though and it’s a seemingly small thing, but man is it huge to me:  any time a player went down, the other 4 on the floor sprinted to her on the whistle.  They sprinted to a huddle on every stop in play.  They sprinted to their spots on the floor on set pieces, and they pushed the ball with a purpose.  
  • Point areas:  Campbell had 32 points in the paint, 39 points off of turnovers, 23 second chance points, and 14 points off of fast breaks.  These are all huge positives for me as a fan.  
  • The bench:  68 points off the bench.  The bench out scored the starters tonight by a pretty wide margin.  I don’t expect this to be the case as these ladies continue to play together, but it’s encouraging that no matter who is in the game, we have offensive weapons.  

Huge congratulations to coach Ronny Fisher and the rest of his staff (who were obviously upbeat all night) for being undefeated in this new era of Campbell Basketball.  

I’m looking forward to the rest of this season.  There is a big gap in the bench that will never be filled (in my heart), but this is a good start for this new look Campbell team.  

Good game Camels.  See you on-line on the 16th.

OMG!!!  _________ is President!!! What now??

OMG!!!  _________ is President!!! What now??

Well I do. . .but really, why are we yelling?
There hasn’t been a moment recently where I’ve been able to enjoy something on the television.  I am getting to the point of physical sickness when it comes to these political ads.  I’m not just talking about the presidential ads either–they all suck.  They are devisive, angry, accusatory, and in truth–most don’t have a thing to do with the candidate that has, “approved” that message.  That’s the common theme:  “VOTE FOR ME BECAUSE THE OTHER GUY/GAL IS AWFUL.”  I don’t recall an election for president where it seemed to solely be about the negatives about the other candidate.  From the debates, to the ads, to seemingly every campaign stop–it wasn’t as much about the issues as it was about why you shouldn’t vote for the other person.

Enough is enough.

By the time you go to bed on Tuesday night (presumably) we will have a new President.  50% of you will be really happy and 50% of you will be really upset.  So what now?


How we take a step back and have a bit of a group hug?  Seriously.  One of the things that makes America great is the fact that everyone isn’t the same.  We don’t have to all believe the same things.  I have some great friends that I don’t agree with politically on everything, but they are still my friends.  I still care dearly for them.  They still care dearly for me (I hope).  The fact that the person you didn’t vote for is not in office shouldn’t change how you feel about your neighbor.

Let’s not moan on social media.  I get it.  I really do.  Yes, you’re disappointed that your candidate didn’t win…but the other one DID win.  You taking a moment to bemoan that fact on facebook or twitter isn’t going to do a single positive thing. It only continues to drive an unnecessary divide between us.  Us.  Me and you.  You and your neighbor…

If you wanted to, “Make America Great Again” and that didn’t happen, how about you make your neighborhood great again.  If you were, “with Her” and she’s suddenly unemployed, why not find someone locally to be with?  You still have to live your life and angry about an election is a bad place to be.

Likewise, gloating that your candidate won??  That’s not a good look either.  It’s just poking the bear.  What’s the need for it?  Go have a beer with someone that voted for the other candidate and talk about something other than politics.  Have dinner.  Move on.  Be the bigger person.

There’s no doubt that this has been one of the ugliest elections in my lifetime and I have a sincere fear that the ugliness isn’t over yet–but that’s on us.  Truly.  It’s on each and every one of us to move forward.  Neither Hillary nor Trump in office will truly affect your day in a meaningful way, so don’t let it.  Don’t let it manage your relationships.  Don’t let it come between you and real things.  

There will be butt-hurt, but the degree to which it shows is on each and every one of us.  I hope that we as a country can move on and love one another a little bit more than we have in the last few months.