Sunday, September 11, 2011

A Sunday to Remember


I usually wake up early on the first NFL Sunday of the year and get some coffee, read the sports page, and prepare for all day action starting at 1pm.

But this opening Sunday was much different.

My day started with reflection of that fateful day 10 years past. It started with a tolling bell asking for a moment of silence....with a tearful roll call of thousands of names forever lost to the lunacy of 19 men crashing planes into buildings that are our symbols of freedom and democracy.

They didn't know their acts would only strengthen our resolve to be tougher, better, and protect freedom with more fervor than ever before.

There was plenty of brave action on the football field today. But it paled in comparison to the remembrances of bravery shown by the passengers of Flight 93, and by the rescue workers that ventured into a towering inferno and the Pentagon to save their brothers and sisters in danger.

So I respectfully end my selfish football pleasure today by saying my own thank you to those who gave the ultimate sacrifice.

You are the true heroes......those on the gridiron are merely pretending.

Friday, July 15, 2011








Just watched the HBO documentary on baseball pioneer Curt Flood. It's an enigmatic tale of a talented, complicated, and tragic individual. I highly recommend it. (Nobody does sports documentaries as well as HBO.)








Speaking of baseball.....since when is it MANDATORY to take a set up man out (Sean Marshall of the Cubs) who just set the Marlins down in order in the eighth preserving a 2-0 lead to put in their CLOSER (The newest version of the Wild Thing Carlos Marmol) who walks the bases loaded and then gives up a bases clearing double without retiring a batter. Sometimes situational baseball lacks common sense.








Also lacking common sense was the Casey Anthony verdict.....but like OJ Simpson water has a tendency to find it's own level. Karma can be a bitch sometimes.








Tuesday, June 28, 2011












James R. Dunek (with my wife Terri in Tampa, Florida in 1984 for the USFL Championship Game).























Born in Chicago, Illinois on July 14, 1934. He will be 77 years of age in a couple of weeks.












In between Father's Day and his birthday, I thought I would write a little tribute to the man who taught me so much, and to whom I owe everything.












Dad is a survivor.







A high school drop out, he maneuvered his way around the streets of Chicago is a savvy way....once scaling the fence to get into Wrigley Field to watch his beloved Cubs, because he didn't have the 15 or 25 cents for a bleacher seat. And speaking of surviving, he beat colon cancer and a triple bypass operation that all occurred within 2 years of each other when he was in his 50's.














Dad is one of the smartest men I know.







We used to play a game where I would ask him a math question, and he would immediately figure it out in his head and tell me the answer. I would take my pad and pencil and figure it out just to make sure he wasn't getting one over on me, but he was always right.














Dad is a hard worker.







I can remember as a small child his headlights leaving our driveway at 5AM as he left for his job as the foreman of the plate department at a printing company....and seeing the same headlights many times at 10PM as he arrived home; only to do it again the next day.














Dad loves action.







We spent many a summer day on the infield of Arlington Park racetrack in suburban Chicago. Dad loved the ponies, but took the time to keep notes and study the bloodlines and recent results. He is the only man I know who has consistently made money with the ponies. Although his standard line to my mother when we came home was..."I broke about even". I also taught him how to count cards in blackjack, and he became so good at it he was booted out of his comped room at Harrah's in Las Vegas when he hit them for several thousand one night.














Dad taught me valuable lessons.







When I was 14 I had shaggy hair. The HS basketball tryouts were the next day, and he asked me if I was going to attend. I said no because they had a haircut rule on the team. He immediately dropped his paper and told me to get in his car, where we drove to the first barber shop we found and he informed the barber to give me a "crew cut". As we left the shop with me in tears he said, "Now you don't have any reason not to try out." As many know I went on to become an All State player in high school and received a full ride to play basketball at Memphis State University. I'm convinced none of it would have happened if he hadn't taken a stand that day.














Another interesting lesson was when he hired me to work in his plant in the summer I turned 16 years old. Since he was the foreman of a division, I was thinking i would receive some "cushy" job with little responsibility and flexible hours. When I arrived at work the first day, I was informed I would be working on the "shrink wrapper". It was brutal, hot work in a non air conditioned part of the factory far away from his air conditioned offices. Oh yeah....and he put me on the 4pm to 1230 am shift which negated any night life I had planned for the summer. When I asked him why he gave me such a tough job, his reply was simply, "Now you know what you don't want to do for the rest of your life".














Dad is slowing down.







As he says..."the parts are wearing out, and so am I".














So I wanted to write this for him now while he can still read it. And I hope he can feel the love and appreciation that it is written with. He taught me the life lessons of honesty, integrity, gentleness and hard work. And although it is a little tough for him to say the words "I love you, son". I know indeed the sentiment is there.














And Dad...the feeling is very, very mutual.







Saturday, June 4, 2011






Shaq retires.....but with his great personality he will assuredly show up as a color analyst next season. I rank him as the 5th all time best center behind Wilt Chamberlain, Kareem Abdul Jabbar, Bill Russell, and Hakeem Alajuwon.






The Cubs Aramis Ramirez gets hit in the mouth with a ball and gets seven stitches. In the NHL, he would be sewn up without Novocaine and return to the game.....but in MLB they talk about putting him on the fifteen day DL. The guy makes 14.5 million this season...sheesh.






I attended David Akers charity dinner this week at the Cescaphe Ballroom on N. 2nd St. in Philly. He is a class act, and I hope the Eagles re-sign him. By the way...the venue is a jewel.






Jack Kevorkian died yesterday, as did James Arness. Agree with Kevorkian or not, you have to admire his resolve in pursuing what he felt was a just cause. And the stoic Arness lost both a daughter and an ex-wife to drug overdoses. The other man's grass indeed looks sometimes greener.






I've been lax with my posts...I'll try to pick up the pace. Thanks for reading.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Musings....









For a guy who is incredibly smart.....why does GOP Presidential Candidate Newt Gingrich constantly put his foot in his mouth?






The NFL lockout is all about the rookie salary cap and expanding the season to 18 games. It will be settled in plenty of time to start the regular season.






Speaking of football.....the Bulls/Heat NBA Eastern Conference final game 3 is tonite at 830 PM Eastern. This match up has been so rough the boys might want to consider face masks.






And I wasn't worried a bit that the world was coming to an end yesterday, because I know exactly when it will happen. It will happen the day the Chicago Cubs are due to wrap up their first World Series in over 100 years. Hell freezing over, apocalypse, Armageddon...etc, etc.






Check out May issue of JerseyMan Magazine featuring WIP morning host Angelo Cataldi due out this week! http://www.jerseymanmagazine.com/

Friday, May 6, 2011

Mother's Day Message









Three years ago this day my wife Terri was critically injured in a freak auto accident in front of my home, but I'm happy to report she has now fully recovered and is doing wonderfully well.






It's kind of amazing the things that God will put you through to get you on track. Her accident was a huge eye opener for me.



So on this Mother's Day weekend I thought I would write this brief tribute to one of my heroes....my wife.

Happy Mother's Day hon....and I feel so lucky and blessed to have you here to enjoy it with us.

Monday, May 2, 2011





On September 12, 2011, I received a phone call at work from Ed Thompson, my ex-boss at my previous employer. Ed was a native New Yorker, and the first thing I said to him was that on the heels of the World Trade Center disaster it must be an incredibly sad day for all people, but especially for those who lived in NY. His response to me was...

"Yes, especially when your son is at the bottom of the rubble".


His words hit me like buckshot. I was stunned speechless. Ed and Violet Thompson are wonderful people, and now their beloved son Glenn was among the missing and presumed dead. I can't remember my exact response to him, but I knew whatever I said would be unable to give him any measure of comfort.



So below is an excerpt about Glenn that was written in the NY Times.



And to Ed and Vi Thompson; it is my sincere wish that the demise of the perpetrator of your son's death Osama Bin Laden brings you some level of closure. Glenn is in a better place and waiting for you. And I can tell you most assuredly that the cut throat terrorist that tried to take the heart out of America will burn three thousand plus times in eternity.....once for every soul the coward was responsible for taking

Glenn Thompson

World Trade Center
"My Mountain Man" Glenn Thompson loved to be outdoors. He hiked. He fished. He biked. He skied. He climbed Mount Kilimanjaro. And last October, on a mountain pass in the Colorado Rockies, he got down on his knees in the snow (he was wearing shorts) and asked Kai Wittmann to marry him. Mrs. Thompson, as she became when they married in April, has the altitude -- 11,820 feet -- engraved in her engagement ring. Glenn, 44, worked at Cantor Fitzgerald on the 104th floor of 1 World Trade Center. While he enjoyed the camaraderie and the adrenaline rush of trading, Kai said, his work was really a means to an end. His dream was to retire early and move to Colorado. ''He was my mountain man,'' Kai said. ''He was a bond trader and damn good at it. But his heart and soul were outdoors.'' Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on September 21, 2001.