What a year it's been ... (un)forgettable

      We are all more than happy to bid the year 2020 farewell. Go away. 

      It has been a year we'd all like to forget. But, loss of memory excepted -- and we hope that's not anyone's fate -- it will stick with us forever.

     Been here 73-plus years, and many years had moments we suffered, but overall nothing like this.

     C'mon, 2021 ... and a vaccine that will make the pandemic -- the COVID-19 horror -- a (sorry) thing of the past.

     So many families have been touched by this, many tragically. We've had our cases -- our son, our son-in-law -- and they weren't severe, but they were worrisome. (They are OK now.)

     Personally, there was that little heart problem in May. Well, not so little (a triple bypass). But I am fine now (I think). Thanks for asking, and thanks for caring.

     It left plenty of time for reflection, for gratitude (as written in my daily gratitude journal), for the blessings I and my family have had ... and plenty of time to read and research.

     Spent much of the year working on ON TRACK, the book pieced together on the updated history of high school outdoor track and field in Louisiana. 

     So, hours of looking back in newspaper files online and searching the Internet and Facebook for names and records, hours of typing in all the results from Jerry Byrd Sr.'s 2004 book being updated, researching for and then writing sketches on teams and individuals, and then -- trial-and-error, mostly error -- formatting pages (346 of them).

     It was, on and off, a two-year project, but the bulk of the work came from June to November. Still not done entirely; still making corrections and updating, and hoping that someone will publish the book (at an affordable cost). So far, no luck, other than a do-it-myself method.

     Sports history and records always have been a hobby, or maybe -- as my roommate of 44 years suggests often -- an obsession.

     (If one has obsessive-compulsive tendencies, and I might, it's not always a positive. Caused us and others trouble and pain, and I apologize -- again.)

     Had to laugh when a sportswriter friend, mentioning the book, referred to me as "a track enthusiast." Well, not exactly.

     I'm OK with the sport -- my Dad loved it -- and I covered it some, but I always preferred baseball, basketball, soccer and football (not necessarily in that order).

     Anyway, the Louisiana track and field high school records, results and history needed updating ... and so it's done. Hopefully, 2021 will mean my work needs updating. 

     I know the book won't have wide appeal or even have moderate sales (if and when it's printed), but getting it done was important to me.

---

     Speaking of sports ...

     It is amazing how much was achieved for much of 2020 despite the pandemic. There was a long pause beginning near the last portion of basketball season, then so darned many postponements/cancellations ... most of them necessary and the safe choices. 

     Dang, what a scheduling hassle this has been (and still is).

     But through much travail and many stops-and-starts, games were played, and championships decided.

LSU's national champions: If this had been the 
last game  of 2020, that would have been fine. 

     One championship made my year: On January 13, LSU whipped Clemson to win the College Football Playoff championship and complete the perfect season. 

      It was the greatest LSU team ever, one of the greatest, period. Not much in my sports world tops that.

     (Confession: I did not watch that game live. Recorded it, watched it late at night, not knowing the result. In fact, I did not watch many of LSU's games last season live.)

     What I found early last football season (2019) was that watching games as they were happening -- for any of "my" teams -- was causing too much stress. I could feel the tenseness in my body.  

     (What I didn't know then was that my heart arteries were severly blocked. Somehow I survived -- even watching recorded version of the games and taking many too-long daily walks).

     Better now, but I still don't watch all that many sports events live. My roommate does not care to watch (or care about the results at all), or have it on TV live, when she's in the room. So if I watch, it is mid-to-late evening -- sometimes live but usually recorded and games are long finished.

     Keeping up with scores on the phone or computer as games are being played still is tense enough for me. 

     Hate watching my teams lose or even play badly or sloppily in victories. And not many of those teams did all that well in 2020; my baseball team, in fact, underachieved and -- oh, gosh -- choked much of the season. 

     Here is something else: I don't like the thought of being old-school or old-fashioned, not don't like idea of "it was a lot better in 'our day,' " but when it comes to sports these days, I am ... well, old school.

     I don't like many of today's trends in sports (this is a separate blog).  Way too much money involved, in every way. Games take far too long. Rules are altered regularly. Hence, I don't enjoy watching all that much.

     Still very interested, but it's not my life as it was when I was younger. And it's no longer my work (but I loved it).

      What made sports in 2020 so odd, most of all, were the "bubbles," and even more, no fans in the stands, or a limited amount of fans. Awful. (But ticket prices, when tickets are available ... out of sight.) 

---

     We all suffered too many losses, of people, in 2020. So much suffering, so much sadness.

     Reviewing the year, it is unbelievable how many nationally known and my personal connections, in some way, we lost. More than I can remember in any one calendar year. 

     Here at our facility, we lost 47 residents  (though only one that we know of from coronavirus complications). Especially cruel was the loss of an outgoing, funny, delightful, at times bawdy 86-year-old woman to Lou Gehrig's Disease, ALS. Oh, Carol. She didn't have to suffer too long, but it hurt us.

      We lost friends, pals and neighbors -- too many to name.

      Losses in the sports world were profound. Kobe Bryant (and his daughter) so early in the year, so tragically. Baseball was rocked by seven Hall of Famers lost -- Bob Gibson, Lou Brock, Tom Seaver, Al Kaline, "Little" Joe Morgan, Phil Niekro, Whitey Ford. And other greats, such as Dick Allen and Johnny Antonelli, Jimmy Wynn ("The Toy  Cannon") ... Joe Morgan's cohort with the early Houston Astros.

     So many Yankees connections: Don Larsen, Phil Linz, Lindy McDaniel, Horace Clarke, Damaso Garcia, Jay Johnstone, Jimmy Wynn, (general manager) Bob Watson, Hank Steinbrenner.

     And our old Shreveport Sports or Braves: Jay Hankins, Dan Pfister, Oscar Brown, Remy "Angel" Hermoso.

     On a personal level, sadness about two newspaper sports department buddies named Steve -- Oakey (leukemia) and Schroats (massive heart attack). They were my good friends who helped make me a better journalist and better person. Miss those guys, and always will.

---

   It was a horrible year for politics, for social issues. Think most people would agree, unless they were not paying attention. This great divide in our country -- maybe in the world -- isn't likely to subside; we are all so dug in to our beliefs.

     It is so difficult to see and hear -- on TV, on Facebook and Twitter -- the harsh and empty rhetoric, the name-calling, the blaming, the conspiracy theories, the excuses, the blind belief.

     Have to say that it has caused me to break with some people. I think about my late friend Dr./Coach James Farrar's logic about friends and acquaintances, and where that line is.

     Everyone is entitled to their opinions. What is unacceptable to me is when I am told what to think or how to act. I try not to reciprocate. You live your life and believe what you want; I will do the same. Don't cross my line; I'll try not to cross yours.

     (I did cross the line with one political post this year, and was told by a half dozen people they didn't want that ... at all. It was not repeated.)

     If you posted something online or to me directly that I found objectionable, it likely means we no longer are connected. That is kind of sad, but too bad.

     Among my goals are to be civil, not use foul language -- another reason not to watch sports events live -- and not be directly critical personally of people I respect. If you find any of my language foul in the blogs or online, let me know. 

     The biggest goals for 2021 are to be the best I can be, keep exercising (strength-training and yoga here or at the YMCA, daily walks, although I have to cut back because of the wear and tear on my legs and feet), and just be nice and helpful to people. Sports, politics and social issues will take care of themselves; I have no control over them (but I do have opinions). 

     Beatrice and I wish you a Happy New Year, but mostly we wish you a healthy new year. Stay safe. 

A different time, but staying busy

     So the questions have been posed repeatedly in the past three weeks: How are you things at your place? How are you spending your time?

     Short answers: We are fine; we are well. But, believe it, we are staying fairly busy.
      We are reading a lot -- here are the stacks of books Beatrice and I have been working. (That's in addition to e-mail and Facebook messages.) 
       I am working on my sixth book in the past month. Some are sports-related, some are not. I have had some of these stacked here for months, and now have time to read them.
       Bea usually reads books much more than I do -- I read more Internet (sports) news than she does -- so she always is in reading form.
       We are watching more television news than I care to do. Enough said.
       We are not on lockdown, but we are being urged to mostly stay out of sight. So we venture out some -- we have walked to the nearby store, across the 7th Street bridge, to stock up on a couple of times recently.
     (Haven't found any toilet paper, though.)
     To expand on the answers -- if you care to know more -- here is a blog post with some details.
     For those who live in our facility and read this blog, they will be familiar with some of this material. For you "outsiders," here is what is going on here (if you care).
     First, credit to management here at Trinity Terrace and at  Pacific Retirement Services (PRS), the managing firm based in Oregon, for doing all they can to keep us safe.
     Most importantly, no outside visitors, including family and friends. Only exceptions: (1) essential health personnel -- nurses, doctors, (limited) caretakers; (2) end-of-life situations.
     Before people come in from outside, medical personnel is checking their temperatures and asking health-related questions.
     Emphasis is being placed on social-distancing rules, urging us to stay at least 6 feet apart. Do you realize hard difficult that is on, say, an elevator? (They now have spaces marked in the elevators, so no more than four people at a time.)
     Hand sanitizers available in many, many places. This had been a growing concern before the current crisis.

     No meetings (we have a Resident Council and its various committees and a Foundation group that meet occasionally).

     No games (regular card games, bingo games, pool table and ping-pong table).
     No exercise classes (yes, I miss them -- yoga, stretch-training, water aerobics, and for Bea, tai chi).
     Getting some  exercise with daily walks; I am still going for lengthy walks -- weather permitting -- outside a couple of times a week. There are people here who regularly walk the hallways in the buildings, and they still are.
     No gatherings. So no Social Hour in our big auditorium -- every Thursday at 4 p.m. -- with a program each week (usually a guest speaker or musical performer, sometimes a resident).
     No twice-a-month Saturday Morning Coffee events (with a program). No monthly birthday party. No regular Wednesday PM practice for the world-famous Trinity Terrace Ukulele Orchestra and Singers.
      No regular events scheduled by the Resident Services department. (Exception: a sing-along on the apartment balconies and in our terrace area, with people spaced apart, a couple of Saturdays ago.)
       No scheduled outside trips scheduled by Resident Services -- to restaurants, museums, plays, concerts. These are usually popular.
     No transportation services, except medical/dental visits. Those of us who no longer have a car can take seven "free" trips -- not counting medical/dental rides -- we are allowed per month.
     Limited access -- one hour early in the day, two hours in the afternoon -- to our in-house Country Store (a convenience store for residents, guests and staff).
     No White Elephant Store (an in-house retail store for goods) activities, which also means no apartment sales. (This store's benefits go almost exclusively to workers here.)
     The pool, usually open at all hours, is limited to one person at a time, for no more than 30 minutes -- and that time must be scheduled.
     Nail and hair salons closed.
     Restaurants (three of them here) closed. But we're not going hungry. We now order meals (one a day) and they are delivered -- in a bag, with plastic dispensers -- to our door.
      (What made the decision to close the restaurants an easy one for management was evident a couple of Sundays ago when there were some 60-plus people at one time in the restaurant at one time, and the buffet line was full, with people standing right next to each other. We saw that, and said that ain't going to work.) 
      Housekeeping service -- once every two weeks -- remains intact. This requires an explanation.
      Management had decided that housekeeping services could be a hindrance in social distancing. But many of the aging, limited residents suggested -- uh, complained -- that they were not capable physically of doing their own housework. So management reversed its thinking, and reinstated the schedule.
     Same was true with the Country Store (this is basically not a money-making operation, but available for the convenience of staff and residents).
     Decision was made to close the store (which is usually open 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Monday through Friday, 10 a.m. to noon Saturday).
      Reasoning: often too many people in the store, too close together, at once, too much touching. Doors, especially to the coolers that hold the most popular items (50-cent soft-drink cans, 50- and 80-cent ice cream bars), being touched repeatedly. Items on shelves -- candy bars, chips, cookies, etc. -- being touched.
      But several/many older residents were not happy with the closure, saying they could not go to outside stores and regularly relied on our Country Store for some items.
       So management partly reversed its decision. Now instead of two residents volunteering to work the two-hour shifts, the staff person (Brandon Roberts) who usually buys and stocks the store's goods is manning the store three hours a day, setting up at a desk blocking the door entrance, taking people's orders and filling them, handling the money  (while wearing protective gloves).
      We thank him. I especially thank him.
      To personalize this -- and I don't mean to be bragging -- I have been committee chairman (with some co-chairs) of The Country Store since December 2018. That means scheduling the workers, filling in when needed, and often stocking the store (mostly soft drinks) between shifts.
      Similarly, the suspension of the Social Hour also affects me. With several other people, we have been chairpersons of that committee since the start of this year, which means being the host/emcee of the program and scheduling the guests. 
      We had the programs lined up through the end of July. When we resume activities, it will require rescheduling guests ... so far we have a month's worth to reschedule.
      Ah, heck, we like doing it.
      Bea also is affected by suspension; in her case, the White Elephant Store activities. Starting a few weeks ago, she took over the chairperson role of that 25-person committee and -- I'm sure a lot of those people will agree -- it is no easy task (much more difficult than Social Hour or Country Store).
      Frankly, it had been about a month's work -- several hours, many phone calls and visits a day -- for Bea. There was some stress involved. No, a lot of stress.
      White Elephant goods -- clothes, furniture, miscellanous discarded items -- are donated by residents and/or staff, but much of them come from apartments that are vacated here. Most, unfortunately, are vacated by deaths, and after the family takes what it wants from the apartment, the rest is left to the White Elephant committee' disgression.
      There is a near-the-end-of-the monthly sale, plus apartment sales. Whatever profits are made go into year-end bonuses for staff, and for school scholarships for staffers.
      It is, in our opinion, one of Trinity Terrace's biggest assets, an important contribution to this place.
      And we give credit to management for re-thinking some of its decisions, thinking of the benefits for our residents and staff.
     Good news -- and we pray this holds up -- no COVID-19 cases here.
---
      As for me, I have been asked if I miss sports. Obviously, yes, but so do all sports fans.
      I would be deep into following major-league baseball right now -- especially the New York team in the American League -- but, honestly, people remaining healthy is a helluva lot more crucial than any sports event.
     So, like everyone, we missed the NCAA Tournaments -- always fun -- and college spring sports, and the NHL and NBA playoffs (so far). But, don't laugh, the intensity of LSU's football season wore me out, so the break is OK. 
     In addition to reading, one of the things that keeps me busy -- in addition to writing way-too-long pieces like this -- is that I do research online. 
      I generally have some research projects going regarding the history of Louisiana high school athletics ... that has been a passion since I was a teenager. 
     Spent way too many hours looking at microfilm at The Shreveport Times and Shreveport Journal in the 1960s, '70s and '80s when I should have been working on becoming a better writer.
      So I have updated Louisiana baseball state-championship game results, and for the past year and a half, have been researching, updating and, in some cases, correcting Louisiana high school state track and field champions -- individual events, relays and team results -- that Jerry Byrd Sr. had compiled (and published in a book) through 2004.
      Having to retype what Jerry had because they were not available online, and still working on that. Still to go: compiling the results from 2005 to 2019. (Looks as if we won't have to deal with 2020; that's awful, isn't it?)
     So big task, hours and hours of looking at past files in  newspapers.com
     Always plenty to do, always plenty to read.
     Stay safe out there. Keep the faith that all will be well.      

The marbles played baseball

     I haven't lost my marbles, really. They're at my daughter's house.
     My real marbles, the ones that entertained me for hours when I was a kid in Sunset Acres. They were my prized possessions. 
     We all have imaginations as kids -- I watch my grandkids, ages 5, 3 and 1, and I'm already amazed -- and we have our games, and my marbles spurred my imagination.
     This might seem hard to believe, but they played baseball and they ran track, and they even competed in field events. Tried them for football and basketball, but that didn't work (see below).
     My marbles, and my baseball games with them, helped me learn to keep the basic baseball statistics.
     (That would serve me well for the next 55 years; near the end of my newspaper career, one of my tasks often was updating Texas Rangers' statistics for the next day's paper.)
     I am writing this because Glen Gordon, my longtime trumpet-playing next-door neighbor who is one of my blog readers, suggested it. He remembered the baseball games with the marbles.   
     I had learned to score games in 1958 when I was 11 -- I still have the little Rawlings scorebook in which I scored 12 Saturday afternoon major-league TV games in 1958-59 -- and so I kept the play-by-play scores of my marbles games, too.
     I did this on the remnants of yearly calendars from the previous year which my dad would bring home from work every January. It was about 4x5 inches, and each page had lined rules -- perfect for the inning-by-inning scoresheet.
     Here was my room: bunk bed pushed against the left wall, pushed into the corner; desk pushed against the back wall under the window; chest of drawers on the front wall next to the closet; all carpet except in front of the closet; lots of open space in the middle.
     Perfect for a baseball stadium.
---
     I had hundreds of marbles. I arranged them -- bunched them -- in six "teams" by colors -- yellow for the home team (Sunset Acres), blue, green, bumblebees, cat eyes, solids. 
     Each of the yellow marbles had a name -- for one of the neighborhood kids or my schoolmates. Do you think I was partial to this particular team?
     I used my baseball bats as the outfield "fence." It took, as I remember, five bats to go from left field to right. There were several natural gaps -- the holes in the post of my bed and  spots around my desk -- and those were the home-run gaps.
     I designated three spots for doubles, one small spot for the occasional triple, and if the "ball" -- a miniature white marble -- ended up short of the fence, it was a single. But if it hit an outfielder on the fly, that was a flyout.
     The bases were four checkers. The infielders and pitcher were in place; they could make plays on "ground balls." Look, you've got to imagine this scene with me.   
     The teams were arranged on either side of home plate, just as in a dugout. I sat on the carpet, on the third-base side, and leaned over to "pitch" the ball toward the plate left-handed, held the batter in my right hand. A right-handed batter pulling the ball? Didn't happen.  
     I had a six-team league; I worked up a round-robin schedule (yes, Jerry Barnes, this schedule worked.) The teams were Sunset Acres, Dalles, Housten, Fort Worth, Monroe and Alexandria -- a mixture of the Texas League and Louisiana cities. How did that come about? I have no idea.
     And I kept the stats for each game, then compiled them.
     Don't know if Glen Gordon ever came to my room to see my baseball stadium, maybe I just told him about it. I know for sure that Casey Baker was a witness.
     Because it was Casey -- I think we were in sixth grade -- who saw my scoresheets and pointed out to me that Dalles should be spelled Dallas and Housten should be spelled Houston. (I was not quite ready for journalism.)
     So I spent hours and hours playing baseball inside, each time putting the marbles back in place -- fairly neatly -- under my bed. It would aggravate me when my mother would have visitors with small kids when I wasn't home, and she invariably would allow the kids to go into my room and mess up the marbles all to hell. It would aggravate me a great deal.
     My younger sister knew better than to mess with them, or me.
---
     Of course, we loved going outside to play. There were thousands of football, basketball and baseball games, and street track meets, and other games. But on many rainy and cold days, you had to be inventive inside. There were only two (and then three) TV stations, and little programming for kids after mid-afternoon.
     It got boring beating my sister in Monopoly. I won every time we ever played -- gee, the breaks never went her way. She did win a couple of times at jacks, though.

     Marbles weren't the only way to play baseball. My parents found me an All-Star Baseball game, a tabletop game that was invented by Ethan Allen, a 1920s/1930s major-league outfielder and longtime Yale University baseball coach. It involved a spinner and player disks (Hall of Famers and 1950s major leaguers). http://baseballgames.dreamhosters.com/CadacoASB.htm
     Again, I adapted the disks to "localize" them -- pasting over names of schoolmates
-- and spent hours playing games and keeping score.
     The marbles, too, were good for track meets. I learned how to score meets when I became a manager for the sport in junior high, and we had an oval rug in the living room that was just right for a track meet.
     I could use it to push along the marbles for running events, varying the distances to match the events -- 100, 220, 440, 880, mile, 2-mile, relays. I invented ways to have field events -- lagging the marbles a certain distance, or flipping them over a stack of checkers for jumping events.             
     Football? Didn't like the electronic football games of those days -- the players always went in all different directions, including in circles -- and the kicking tee was cheesy. Tried it a few times, and said no more.
     Here's what I did. Had a cigar box, and made little slips of paper -- maybe 400 slips of paper -- with all sorts of plays: 1-yard run, 6-yard loss, 10-yard pass, TD pass, incomplete pass, intercepted pass, intercepted pass for touchdown, etc. Had a separate box for punts (varying distances) and for PAT plays. Had a time clock, and designated certain amounts of time for running plays, passing plays, kicks. Kept a play-by-play. Again, it entertained me for hours.
     Another football version: Two decks of cards -- aces were 14 points, kings 13, queen of hearts 12, sevens were 7, sixes were 6, three of hearts a field goal, two of hearts a safety. Put down four quarters for each team.
     The Tucker boys, Johnny and Terry, and I put together a six-team league -- we each controlled two "franchises." We made up schedules for each team, picked names from a road map (I think we used Michigan to select the team names -- Huron and Stanton are the only two I remember). We must've played 50 seasons, with the top two teams in the league going to the state playoffs each year. We recorded all the results on paper, too.
     Basketball? I had my little hoop that went on the door in my room and my miniature ball, and inspired by games I heard on the radio, I was always Kentucky -- oh, forgive me, please -- or the local team, Centenary. Played my games by myself and did the play-by-play narration.
     But the baseball marbles were my favorite. And, yes, I did play-by-play on those, too.
---
     I write this, and I think of today's kids (well, adults, too) and the video games. You can get them for just about any sport. My son Jason has NCAA Football, and golf (The Masters), and World Cup Soccer, and I have watched him play for hours in his superb "media room" with the large screen. We especially like the Holland vs. Germany soccer matchups.
     One Thanksgiving, Jason and our son-in-law, Russell, tangled in NCAA Football, and I left it with them at about 1:30 a.m. I think it was about 4 a.m. when they decided they might need some sleep.
     As I've told many people, I am thankful I had to invent my own games. Given the video games of today back then, I might still be locked in that little room in Sunset Acres, never having gotten past fifth grade because of my video-game addiction.