“No man stands as tall as when he stoops to help a child”.
I was watching a piece last night on 60 minutes about Nick Saban, the great Alabama coach. That was a quote on his father’s tombstone. Now that was a real man.
Certain things are so right and so wrong,  black and white. You don’t hit a woman, you don’t hurt a child. Real men know this. We don’t react to provocation by lashing out physically at our loved ones, girlfriends, wives, kids.
On the other hand, we’re not football players. We aren’t raised in a culture of violence.  Everything football players do, all their training since they were kids,  has led to this. You get hit, you hit back. Your girlfriend slaps you, whack her. No problem. Even if you’re in a Las Vegas elevator, no problem. You’re a star. You make millions. You’re protected by coaches, by owners. Violence is what got you here. It’s in your blood. It’s your raison d’etre. And you’re girlfriend loves you enough to marry you. All sad but true.

Please Gronk, practice getting in a protective position as soon as you catch the ball. Your too valuable to try to get an unimportant extra 5 yards in the middle of the field. We need your touchdowns. You’re a red zone monster!!
When you caught that pass against the Browns, your next body movement should have been getting yourself in a protected position for a hit. You should have been aware of the safety closing on you. And if you had done your film work, you should have known TJ Ward, was the hard hitting safety that was targeting you, ending your season.
And while we’re at it ,let’s not forget to criticize the Pats for exposing you with moronic play calling. Early in the first quarter of your first game back from your broken arm, they sent you long down the right sideline, where you layed out, as you are known to do, landing on your injured arm. Why send you long? Early in game? Makes no sense. You should not be used to stretch the field!!!!! Maybe, maybe, in the last few seconds of a critical game if Pats are losing. But never at any other time! So, Gronk, protect yourself, and , Pats, please protect Gronk.

Travers weekend.

Starts Friday night at Siro’s, best joint in America. Saturday night on Caroline street. Walking on Broadway. Beautiful artsy statues of horses on the sidewalks. Street performers, with little talent trying to make weed money.
Saturday at the track. Crowd buzzing. Women wearing their finest with colorful hats. Saratoga is famous for hats, seemingly every other store selling hats.
3rd race, young 2 year old, Ludicrous , breaks leg right in front of the grandstand near the finish line. Hideous sight. Think Joe Theismann. Only they didn’t put Joe down.  They used a large tarp to cover the area around the horse. Probably euthanized the poor animal, carted off by van. Very disturbing. I thought of when I witnessed the  beautiful championship filly, Go for Wand, breaking down in the stretch in a furious duel with the great mare, Bayakoa, in the 1990 Breeder’s Cup at Belmont Park. Go for Wand flipped over in a spectacular horrific fall. Fans sobbed openly, knowing her life would soon be over.  Both today’s horse and the beautiful Go for Wand broke down in the stretch right in front of thousands of traumatized fans. Tears again. But we keep going to the track because we know that these awesome thoroughbreds are born to run. Fast. The great champions are born also to compete to the wire, with great hearts, to win. You’ve heard of having the heart of a champion. Comes from horses, from Hidalgo to Secretariat.
After betting 11 races and cashing a few tix, my bankroll was holding steady.  Race 12. The Travers. My best buddy, a beginner handicapper,  liked and bet a 19 to 1 longshot, V.E.Day. I liked V.E.Day to compete but not to win. I really liked the Boston horse, Wicked Strong. I bet him heavy, but also used V.E.Day in perfectas with Wicked Strong. I’m not sure if I used V.E.Day because of my friend or just my own brilliant handicapping. Close race approaching the top of the stretch when Wicked Strong made his move, clearing the field. He was home free, with the other competing horses knowing they were beaten. Then suddenly a lone challenger, longshot V.E.Day, appeared as if out of the dusk, charging down the stretch. Giving chase to the supposed winner. The crowd went crazy, knowing they were now going to witness a compelling finish. Wicked Strong forged forward  boldly, with V.E.Day exploding after him. V.E.Day was running faster, but Wicked Strong was still clearly ahead and courageously, like a champion, was not going to give in to fatigue until the wire. With 100 yards to go, V.E.Day had a chance. As a lifelong sports fan, the most exciting moment in all of sports is the finish of a championship race between 2 great horses competing, desperate, flailing at each other. Think Ali / Frazier, when both faced death over15 cruel rounds.
Too close to call!!!
Waiting. Waiting.
V.E.Day by a nose!!!
Whenever a longshot wins a big race, especially a close one, the crowd is quietly spent after screaming their lungs out for 2 minutes. But you still hear the lucky few loudly squealing in delight,  because if you bet V.E.Day, you won big. I screamed but I didn’t squeal. I did cash a big ticket on the perfecta, V.E.Day and Wicked Strong. I always bet perfectas both ways. My horse was Wicked Strong. I threw in V.E.Day because my rookie buddy picked him. Better to be lucky than good.
Finally, I will probably bet Wicked Strong in the Breeders Cup championship on November 1. Most bettors will put their money on California Chrome and Shared Belief, and maybe even Tonalist. But Wicked Strong danced every dance and still ran brilliantly in the Travers. Rest him and he’ll be ready for a big effort in the Breeders Cup.
Saturday night on Broadway. Eating al fresco at Max London’s, people watching. Bar hopping on Caroline street. 20 something drunken girls with very short skirts dancing and hanging in bar windows , flirting with drunken 20 something boys. And it’s only 930. I was curious to see the scene at midnight. I’m still curious. In bed by 10, wiped out by a long day at the track. 
Sunday morning, brunch at the Saratoga Country Club. Last year Jerry Bailey was there with his family. So was Bill Parcells, holding court at the bar. I’m not a celebrity sycophant , but I was tempted to approach him and tell him how much Pats fans appreciate what he did for us. Regret not doing it.
5 hour drive home, get ready for work on Monday. One great weekend a year.

Travers weekend.

Another unarmed teenage black kid killed by police. Move on, nothing to see here. Looking at the images of police in full military anti terrorist gear was disturbing. It evoked memories of the young Emerson college girl killed near Fenway Park in 2004 while celebrating the Red Sox world series win. Shot by a moron cop wielding a bean bag rifle. The bean bag went into her eye through to the brain. Why were cops there carrying those weapons to disperse dopey college kids acting sophomoric?  Who was the bright bulb that ordered that type of military response to such a non threatening celebratory situation?  Now there is probably some training that would help the police do a better job. But it’s happening far too often in too many places in this country. I think we should concentrate on the top brass to instill and expect
more reasonable responses from subordinates and the cops on the line. BTW, in 2007 when the Sox won again I told my daughter who was a Northeastern student to stay away from Fenway. Of course she didn’t listen, but she did call me to tell me that the cops did show up to disperse the same type of goofy college kids. She said the cops were frightening and she promised to and did leave the area to the relative safety of her dorm.
Just one more thought. I was in the North End when Italy won the 2006 World Cup. What a blast! People celebrating in the streets, singing and pounding drums on Hanover street. Great unforgettable fun. Then suddenly we heart this loud roar. At the beginning of Hanover was a phalanx of black armored motorcycles in a V shape revving their engines. I’ve been around, but it was menacing. Then they started moving forward……slowly. They kept coming forward towards the crowd of happy Italians singing and dancing on the street. Inexorably coming towards us to break up the celebration. Why?  I guess the official reason was to open the street to traffic. But I wonder if this was a practiced response to a more serious situation that never occurred. So the brass thought let’s take out our military toys and play with them. An unnecessary and dangerous game. And a real damper on a party.

All my friends seem to be red republicans, that is, really conservative. I don’t understand why, because they’re all middle class people.  Good people, nice people, wonderful family people. But they are part of the 47% in this country that feel that the republican party is more supportive of their beliefs and lifestyle. They don’t like paying taxes. They don’t like paying for illegal immigrants. They don’t like Obama’s foreign policy. They don’t like that the Obamas are taking a vacation now when the world is in crisis. They want him to wait for when the world is not in crisis. They want him to wait for the end of wars fueled by religious hatred.
On the other hand, my sister is a liberal democrat. She is a part of the 47% in this country that are sick of big business raping the American people financially, then getting bailed out by its victims, the American people. She doesn’t want laws based on any religion. She expects that Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, and all the other social entitlements are necessary and will never run out of money. She is disdainful of red republican opinions.
47% of America versus 47% of America. I’ve argued with both. I’ve been shouted down by both. I love my friends. I love my sister. Can’t change their minds. No way, no how. 280 million Americans can’t agree. That leaves the burden of moving this country forward to us puny 6%. 20 million “undecided” independent voters who every 4 years decide the big one. Pretty powerful feeling, don’t you think?

Can’t believe Tony Stewart will be charged with any crime for that awful accident. How do you prove  ‘intent’, which is a necessary element to prove a crime. The victim here, Kevin Ward, got out of his car on a racetrack with cars going 100 mph. A tragedy waiting to happen. And it did. There’s no way to prove that Stewart had ‘intent’ to injure.

My brother loves Ray Donovan. He
keeps telling me to watch it. I had watched a few episodes. Thought it was pretty good. But there was an obnoxious character, recurring every episode whenever I got into it. Ray’s wife, Abby, is played by a very good actress. Saw her in a great series, Deadwood. She was great in that , and is great in Ray Donovan too. But almost every time she appears she’s accompanied by an obnoxious character, THE BOSTON ACCENT. For some reason, west coast directors think that they have to cast THE BOSTON ACCENT in every show or movie about Boston. And lately there have been a run on Boston shows and movies. Boston’s hot, Southies hot, Whitey Bulger’s hot. Intriguing story lines. But these directors have no clue about what Bostonians sound like. We do not sound like JFK giving a speech. I keep expecting Abby Donovan to break into “my fellow Americans” .Wah wah.
Saying that, I did go back to watch Ray Donovan. It was too good to not watch because of one obnoxious, unrealistic character, THE BOSTON ACCENT.