Flavorful Reads

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Top 10 Songs for December 21, 2012

Okay, before planet Earth is thrown into a giant, gaping, solar black hole, or before earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, and hurricanes all fall down on us at once, or before Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber reveal themselves as the Anti-Christess and the Anti-Christ, I figured a blog post about a playlist with music referencing the end of the world would be fitting.

These songs all lyrically discuss the end of the world in some way, shape, or form, but none of them do so in a very depressing manor; which makes them kind of fun to listen to.  I have YouTube videos attached to each one of them so while you are partying your asses off tomorrow night, you will have a playlist to at least say you checked out before it's all over.

**RATIONAL DISCLAIMER** Just for the people on Doomsday Preppers, Mayan decedents, John Cusack, or any other goofball who actually thinks Friday is the end of the world: I'M KIDDING.  If I actually believed in this crap then anything I have ever said about my belief system is a lie.  Let's just make one thing crystal clear, for a brief moment: the people who predicted this day (the Mayans) cannibalized each other to death centuries ago.  The only people left with any relation are distant relatives.  Are you really going to trust a bunch of dope smoking cannibals?  C'mon, man.

With that "rational disclaimer" out of the way, now we can get back to the fun stuff.  You know, pretending.  Here are some songs I think you should play during your End of the World Party tomorrow night.  Some you'll enjoy, some you won't, but it doesn't matter much to me because on Friday all technology will be reduced to ruble and we'll have to live like Viggo Mortensen and his kid did in The Road (what a shitty movie).  Here you go:

1.  R.E.M. - "It's the End of the World as We Know It," Document

2.  The Suicide Machines - "It's the End of the World as We Know It" (R.E.M. cover), Steal this  Record

3.  Thrice - "The Sky is Falling," The Alchemy Index Volume 3: Air

4.  Dave Matthews Band - "When the World Ends," Everyday   

5.  Bad Religion - "Fuck Armageddon...This is Hell," ...How Could Hell Be Any Worse?



6.  The Clash - "London Calling," London Calling


7.  Prince - "1999," 1999


8.  Goldfinger - "99 Red Balloons," Stomping Ground 

9.  Morrissey - "Everyday is Like Sunday," Viva Hate

10.  Johnny Cash - "When the Man Comes Around," American IV: The Man Comes Around



Tuesday, December 18, 2012

What Now?

In the wake of the tragedy that took place at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut on Friday, December 14th, almost every conversation I have had has ended in the question, "what now?"

I do not think two words have ever been put together so easily and have caused such complex, different, and endless reaction.  What.  Now.  Does anyone have the right answer?  What is the right thing to do?  I think the word "right" in a situation like this is so difficult to use because this tragedy comes down on everyone.  Not everyone was immediately effected as traumatically as those Newtown families and residents were, but everyone knows that could have been any elementary school, any group of children, any friend... this comes down on all of us because most recognize how lucky we are it did not happen in our community.

So what is "right" if not everyone agrees on the same thing?  The aftermath of this scenario leaves people in the trenches because everyone wants to be happy.  Everyone wants to be "right."  There are the liberals who want gun-free zones and wish for schools to be safe havens for children to learn and grow.  Then there are the NRA members who think if more schools had guns, attackers would have a more difficult time creating a massacre such as the one in Newtown.  Oh, and don't forget the people in the middle, who cannot seem to decide what should be done; who like the ideas of the Constitution, but understand some changes need to be made to make this Nation a better place.  Some blame the media.  Some blame the parents.  All in all the Nation has countless points of view, all looking for their own solution to come to fruition.  So, as I have asked, what is the "right" one?  What now?

Well, I just do not think it is that simple.  That is, doing what is "right."  I mean, does a policeman do what's right in giving a man who only makes $30,000 a $700 speeding ticket?  Does a parent do what's right when they don't let their kid see Toy Story 3 because they have yet to clean up their room?  Does a sports league do what's right when they stop selling beer in the 7th inning or 4th quarter?  As odd or goofy as these scenarios may seem, no one is doing what is "right," they are doing what needs to be done to keep things civil.  Doing what is morally expected.  Doing the best we can, as a community, from preventing any wrong from happening.  Some effect for the cause, as it were.

So, will Barack Obama be doing what is "right" when he places a ban on all assault rifles - as we did in the 90s - and lowers gun ownership to 1 per household?  Not by the NRA, not by gun owners, and not be peaceful apathetics, but these weapons are not used to hunt deer.  Plain and simple.  This situation is not about doing what is right, it is about preventing wrong.  What happened in Newtown, CT was pure evil.  Of course, the government cannot stop violent people from going out and buying guns illegally.  Obama can't promise another tragedy like Sandy Hook won't happen again, but that does not mean we, as a people, do not have to try.  We have a responsibility to our children, we have a responsibility to ourselves.  As he so powerfully said on Sunday night:

We can’t tolerate this anymore.  These tragedies must end.  And to end them, we must change.  We will be told that the causes of such violence are complex, and that is true.  No single law — no set of laws can eliminate evil from the world, or prevent every senseless act of violence in our society.  But that can’t be an excuse for inaction.  Surely, we can do better than this.

I expect to see some significant change with gun control.  I expect President Obama to do his very best to work with gun groups and gun-free believers alike to explain what actions need to be taken and what laws must be put in place in order to keep our children, and our communities as a whole, safe.  Again, it is not about what is "right," because everyone thinks they are.  This is about better peace of mind.  This is about lesser graves.  What now?  Insanity, by definition, is "doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting a different outcome."  Well, wrong is wrong, and it will happen on it's own in scary, terrifying ways at times, but we do not have to sit idly by.  Strive to do good, work to make it better. 

Thursday, December 13, 2012

In (My) Musical History: Bands I Should Have Found, but Missed.

Does this not just suck when it happens?  You are in your car driving with a friend, they take a stab playing their iPod, and you dig the song that is on.  Just as this wonderful 3:30 minutes (give or take) is up, you ask, "was that a new band?"  Your friend, almost angry at the question, replies, "No way, they were big earlier this decade."  Or the nineties.  Or the fucking eighties.  Whenever.  The band either broke up, a majority of the members died, or they just are not making music.  Such a bummer.

Or, how about this scenario.  You are out on a Friday night at a club in San Francisco, ready to see one of your favorite bands headline the bill with an hour and a half of some of your most emotionally invested tunes. However, like the good live fan you are, you arrive early to check out the opening acts on the bill to see if any of them can play a lick.  The first band is kind of a shitty, AFI knock off you have heard countless times; no big deal.  You go to grab a brew and when you come back the second act comes on and goes on a small rant about how the headliners "used to actually open for them, but now that we're old and touring for fun, we come out and support our younger pals."  This "warm-up" in fact inspired the band you came to see and you did not know who they were.  And they rock.  Your lack of knowledge for this band does not make you a bad music fan, but you wish they came up on Pandora, or iTunes, or even fell out of the record pile at Streetlight Records in San Jose.

Well, as I am sure you have already guessed, both of these scenarios have happened to me.  More than once.  On several occasions.  And while it first bothered me, I have come to enjoy these little surprises from time to time.  Finding that new, but actually old, band that has already experienced the apex of their career makes me know that I am one of the few (even though few many mean thousands in this case) listening to this band and learning more about them, as much as they may be currently fading away.  So, I thought it would be cool to write a post on three of these scenarios... um, er... bands.  The stories of how I found them are not the coolest, but the fact I found them is cool... to me, at least.  Because when you find a band like you do in the first case - in a car, knowing none of their songs with no chance to see them live - sometimes magical musical tour date moments fall into place and you actually get to see them live.  Or the old band that influenced your favorite band that you wish you knew about 8 years ago?  They could lead you to a band on the rise today, right now, and you never would have known that before.

The moral of this post?  Do not pass up on listening to music, genres, or simply bands that are past their prime, out of date, or "not popular" anymore.  All of that is bullshit in my view.  Stay true to the stuff you like - yes, even robot farts - because you never knew what it could lead to.  I have found some of the coolest music on complete accident and it is some of my favorite today.  Even though it was made earlier this decade.  Or the nineties.  Or the fucking eighties.  Whenever.  Some of these you may have gotten to before I do, but I don't care. Here are 4 bands I should have found, I ended up missing, but still have the chance to follow, support, and love.

1.  American Steel
These guys are actually kind of the reason I wrote this entire post.  When I was seeing my favorite band, Alkaline Trio, for about the 7th time with my buddy Stoye, there were a couple of opening bands before, per usual.  We always get there early, we always rock out, but not always do we find a band that is actually older than the headliners.  American Steel came on and tore up the stage.  Playing what I learned to be classics such "Every New Morning," "Whiskey, Women, and Black-guarding," and "Shrapnel," American Steel caught my attention from the first note.  What I learned a few months later?  They had already broke up, gotten back together, broken up, and reformed once again.  These guys were originally from Oakland and had been in the punk scene since '94.  Dueling guitars, whiskey-whipped voices, and pounding drums, American Steel have the grit and emotion I love in rock-n-roll; one of my favorite bands currently.

2.  The Smoking Popes
Again, the Popes are pretty much the second half to this post; the band that opened for a band they used to take out on tour.  And again, it was all brought to my attention at another Alkaline Trio show with Stoye (we've seen them a lot).  I had heard of the name The Smoking Popes and always admired the un-godly ring to it, but never had really listened to a couple snippets on an iTunes preview.  They opened up for the Trio and basically gave the "yeah, we 're old as hell and used to get Alkaline Trio too wasted before they had to play back in the '90s."  Once the Trio came on, they threw all kidding aside and sited the Popes as one of the most influential bands for not only them, but for the Chicago punk scene in general.  A band that inspired arguably my favorite band and an entire scene I like?  I'm in.  Now, all this credibility is not what sold me on the Popes or made me like them.  That would be lame.  However, I cannot deny that all of it got me interested.  The music always does the rest.  Go and listen to "It's a Punk Thing... You Wouldn't Understand," and enjoy what you missed, as I did.

3.  H2O
Just like The Smoking Popes, I found H2O when they were opening up for the Dropkick Murphy's on the "All Roads Lead to St. Patrick's Day Tour."  H2O is a hardcore band from the Lower East Side and have a totally bad ass mentality to them.  Lead singer Toby Morse leads a band of straight-edge musicians who sing about the fatal nature of substance abuse, protecting one's family, and life on the tough streets of the LES.  While I definitely do not partake in the straight-edge movement, I respect people who can do so without throwing it up in my face as if I am a bad person.  These guys have made a lifestyle choice and it is one they have continued to live and follow closely.  What is even cooler, though, when I found H2O for the first time they had not put out an album in 7 years.  They were old, past their prime, grandfathers of the hardcore scene.  Yet, they came out, told stories about Dropkick in their younger days and rocked the San Francisco Warfield.  Their most recent album, Nothing to Prove, came out a few weeks after I saw them life and their youthful nature allows them to continue to tour and make music.  Yeah, I missed my chance to see them headline, but now I know they're still out their doing the damn thing.  That makes me happy.

4.  A Tribe Called Quest
Okay, let's take a break for a second, step away from the mosh pit, and talk about a band we missed on, but eventually found thanks to an irie session with a buddy, that girl with the funky t-shirt on in math class, and the older cousin who always said "ZULU NATION" at Christmas time and never, ever told your grandmother what he was talking about.  A Tribe Called Quest would be number one on this list if it was done in order because this is a band I missed during their prime, found when I was older, and can see the amount of influence these guys had on the entire hip-hop scene, sound, culture, and popularity.  Tribe came up from Linden Boulevard in New York and between Q-Tip and Phife Dawg genius lyrics were composed, beats were produced from the sounds of early jazz, and the idea that all hip-hop was negative or "gangster" was turned on it's head and forever changed.  They inspired everyone, even artists outside of hip-hop.  True.  Diggy-dang-diggy-dang-da-dang-da-dang-diggy.  You already know what I'm talking about.  This is without a doubt my favorite hip-hop duo and one of the best groups I found after they had already experienced a successful prime.  No, I did not listen to them much in high school and I still feel bad about that.  However, I have made up for it in due time, my readers.  Truth be told, I did not start slapping these guys until I saw my friend Mohit's shirt and went to look up what the hell "A Tribe Called Quest" was.  In due time I've caught up, indeed.  Go eargasm to "Check the Rhyme," "Buggin' Out," "Bonita Applebum," and every single other song Tribe has dropped, please.

So there are my 4, yo.  What bands have you missed, but still love?  What artists inspired your currently favorite artists?  Isn't music just the best?

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Nirvana Reuniting at the 12.12.12 Concert: 5 Better Options Than Paul McCartney as Lead Singer



As I woke up on this rainy Wednesday morning, I started it just like any other day.  Got out of bed, took my morning deuce, shaved my nasty neck hair, and enjoyed a hot, pressurized shower.  I did not set the fire alarm off in my apartment, though, so I thought today was going to be extra special.  As I trailed down Highway 101 on my way to work, I was bouncing back and forth between my iPod and talk radio, as usual. Again, nothing different.  Today was shaping up to be just another Wednesday, or "hump day," as I so lovingly refer to it.  Once I got to the office, I toasted an everything bagel (by the way, when I think of everything, I expect irie to be in it, so maybe they should change that) and opened up my computer ready to take in the morning news.

North Korea launched a missile into Earth's orbit last night, major union setbacks took place in Michigan yesterday, and Paul McCartney is going front the reunited Nirvana at the 12.12.12 Concert tonight.  Wait... what?  I can deal with the cray-cray North Koreans and Union workers will align and restore order, but the bassist (and arguably third coolest member of The Beatles) is taking the place of Kurt Cobain for a one night special event?  When I saw my buddy Stoye tweet about it I was a total non-believer.  But, sure as shit, Stoye was right, or at least the rumors were beginning to swirl and it was not coming from a TMZ gossip blog.  My main music blog www.pigeonsandplanes.com had updated some information on it and when I saw a couple local New York publications name drop Sir Paul and Dave Grohl jamming with former Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic and former Nirvana guitarist/current Foo Fighters guitarist Pat Shmeer, I was in shock.  Now, each rumor I have heard has also been accompanied with a statement along the lines of "Paul and Nirvana won't be playing any of Kurt's classics, but rather a new song recently composed through jam sessions."  Oh, I feel so much better... NAAAAT!

Listen, I do not give a shit if Paul McCartney and Nirvana sat down and played Beethoven's 9th Symphony - it would not cut it.  Do not get me wrong, The Beatles are some of the best to ever do it, but this is just not right.  Everything The Beatles stood for: fame, women, musical technicality, top of the pops rock went and goes against everything Kurt Cobain and Nirvana set out to do.  In fact, as much of The Beatles probably inspired the men of Nirvana at a young age, my bet is by the time those boys were 18 and looking for a ride out of suburbia and a case of beer, all they wanted to do was destroy the ideals created by that 60s free love and jam session bullshit.  It is a rough way of looking it, but in the end it is probably true.  I know Dave Grohl has great visions for grandiose rock performances (Foo Fighters jamming with Led Zeppelin,  Grohl doing performing with Motorhead), but I think this is taking it too far.  The first, and probably only, reunion performance Nirvana will EVER have is purportedly going to be with Paul McCartney (who also led the travesty band, Wings)?  No, no, no.  This is just not right.

So, now that all the bitching is over, I would like to present to you the 5 singers I would have put in front of Paul McCartney.  I did not pick these because I think any one of them are more famous or more influential than Sir Paul, even though that might be true.  I picked them because they would encapsulate the essence of Nirvana so much better than any Beatles member could ever do, minus Lennon.  Melodic voices, smooth harmonies, and touching lyrics are what Paul McCartney does best and the snarling voice, distorted guitars, and painfully bleak and honest lyrics of Kurt Cobain are what should be represented.  I feel these 5 would have done a better job.

5.  Chris Cornell - Soundgarden, Audioslave, Temple of the Dog
A local Seattle grunger who came up around the same time as Kurt, Chris Cornell experienced a wide array of musical success with his first band Soundgarden, his Rage Against the Machine mega-group Audioslave, and a acoustic solo career.  Cornell may have been the "pretty voice" of the grunge scene, but at least he had an appreciation of what happened during that time.  You see, Seattle grunge was more about the music, it was the life all of the artists lived together underground.

4.  Michael Stipe - R.E.M.
This is probably my wackiest choice, but Stipe is a perfect middle ground selection between McCartney and Kurt.  With songs like "Everybody Hurts," "Losing My Religion," and "Man on the Moon," Stipe and R.E.M. are famous enough to recognized at a concert such as 12.12.12.  Cobain has actually stated R.E.M. as a major influence and favorite band, as well.  Of course, Cobain loved The Beatles, but R.E.M. became very well known right before the Seattle grunge scene took off.  Stipe, while a alternative-pop rocker, sings with true conviction with lyrical content along the same lines of Nirvana's work: life, loss, religion, equality, and the pursuit to find green grass on the other side.

3.  Lemmy Kilmister - Motorhead
Who would not want to see the lead singer of fuckin' Motorhead team up with the musicians of Nirvana?  Like I said, Lemmy and Grohl have played together and are good drinking buddies, so the connection is already there.  Lemmy sings with such a reckless abandon, as well, that he could probably get away with singing a classic Nirvana song such as "Sliver" or "Rape Me."  Seeing Lemmy at the 12.12.12 concert in those famous boots, wearing that cowboy hat of his, and swigging from a bottle of Jack would be a sight for sore eyes; one I think every grunge/punk/rock fan would appreciate... Kurt would be smiling down on the evening.  Beiber fans, not so much.

2.  Eddie Vedder - Pearl Jam, Temple of the Dog
Now, I know what you Nirvana die-hards are thinking: Fuck Eddie Vedder and Fuck Pearl Jam.  Many grungers believe PJ's 20 year career is responsible for breaking grunge into mainstream and site the disdain Kurt had for Eddie at one point.  That all might be true, but fact of the matter is, grunge and punk broke at the beginning/middle of the 90s and that was not Pearl Jam's fault (it was not The Offspring's, Green Day's, or Rancid's fault either, the music is fucking good), it was inevitable.  Also, Kurt and Eddie reconciled right before Kurt tragically took his own life, so people can drop the drama that Kurt hated Eddie until his dying day.  That is not true.  Eddie Vedder has carried the grunge spirit to new heights and I would have loved to see him pose as the Nirvana singer for one night and one night only.

1.  Neil Young - Neil Young and Crazy Horse, Pearl Jam, titled "The Godfather of Grunge"
This has got to be the coolest and most obvious choice of them all.  I mean, Neil Young is the "Godfather of Grunge," for Christ's sake.  Neil Young and Crazy Horse are probably the single most important band to influence the grunge scene not only musically, but by image (flannel shirts), ideals (hippies with an edge), and overall human belief (we're in this together).  Neil even tried to reach out Kurt before his suicide, letting him know that everyone in the scene, and across rock music, was there for him.  Mr. Young has filled in for Eddie Vedder as the front-man for Pearl Jam, why not let Neil take over for Nirvana at the 12.12.12 concert?  They would do a great rendition of Neil Young's "Fuckin' Up."  Again, like Lemmy, Neil and Dave Grohl have a great friendship, the Foo Fighters having played Neil's Bridge School Benefit countless times.

So, there are my 5 musicians that I think would have been a better selection than Paul McCartney.  Is Paul going to do fine?  Sure.  Is he the right guy for the job?  I think not.  Let me know what you think.  Or if you even care.

Monday, December 10, 2012

So Long Fantasy Football, I Have Outgrown You


Okay, this blog is really starting to cramp my credibility.  Just nine short months after I completely ripped into Angel Pagan's chest and tore out his heart, metaphorically, I have to say that for legal purposes, he goes on to help our beloved San Francisco Giants win a second World Series in three years and we resign him.  Of course, I praise the signing, noting that I will be forever indebted to "El Cabello Loco," taking back nearly everything I said about him in my rip-roaring rant, Angel Pagan or Devil Pagan?

Now, Morty's Corner forces me to look back on foul tongue once again.  Four months ago I got online with a few friends of mine, ordered a slice of pizza, cracked some PBRs with Lump and Stoye, and got down to selecting my 2012 Fantasy Football squad, "Fondle My Footballs," in our league draft.  In the post entitled Fantasy Football?  I Take It More Seriously Than That, I boasted out my team about as badly as a drafter can.  I discussed my favorite picks, why I loved my defense, and rosterbated so hard I'm still chafing right now, seriously, just kidding.  LeSean McCoy this, Philip Rivers that.  "Greg Olsen at tight end?  What a steal," I thought.  Well, there I go thinking again...

With a 5-9 record and the second lowest "Points For" total, my team "Fondle My Footballs" fondled balls, alright.  As Jack Black says in Tropic Thunder, my team encapsulated the quote: "I'll cradle the balls… stroke the shaft… work the pipe… and swallow the gravy... Get it over here buddy let’s do this…"  It was a complete abomination of Fantasy Football strategy.  I started people I should have sat, I dropped people I should have kept.  All I can think of is Tom Cruise in Jerry McGuire, "I lost the number 1 draft pick the night before the draft!"

All in all, it was a terrible year.  I don't even know where to start.  Philip Rivers looked more like shot-putter than a quarterback and when he had that 4 interception game against the Broncos back on November 18th, I could have sworn I saw him look to the camera and say, "Fuck you, Morty."  It was terrible.  Oh, and do not even get me started on trading Wes Welker after three weeks.  I am a disgrace to the very essence of fantasy football.  Like I said, I finished with 5-9 record, in last place, but some how managed to make the most player moves (23) and most waiver wire acquisitions (14).  Talk about over thinking a straight 3-foot putt.

In that death-sentence post I made, I also happened to select my three favorite picks.  Wait until you get a load of this shit:

Favorite Pick #1:  Wes Welker, Wide Receiver, New England Patriots **TRADED**

Favorite Pick #2: LeSean McCoy, Running Back, Philadelphia Eagles **INJURED**

Favorite Pick #3: Pittsburgh Defense **DROPPED**

For any one out there who thought this post was too dramatic, you do not get it.  I hyped up something that not only was not very good, but finished two spots away from dead last.  I TRADED AWAY, DROPPED, AND LOST ANY PLAYER I LIKED OR HAD INTEREST IN.  C'MON MAN!  However, the one glimmer of pride in all of this is my manhood; it's still intact because at least I know I'm wrong and can admit it.  Most of you can't even do that.  I have a long off-season ahead of me and I believe I can come back and draft a solid team next year.  Lord knows, I'll need to if I do not want to keep donating $20 to a friend every year.

Until next time, good luck to all the teams that made the playoffs.  I need a beer.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Tito and Barry Live! The 20th Show

This is our 20th show for those who didn't read the title. It's been a fun ride and we can't wait to get back in the Nicholson Room this Friday. We'll have a live correspondent on the show with us, as well. So stay tuned and stay ghetto.

Tito and Barry Live! #19

This stuff is old as hell, but enjoy your asses off!

Monday, November 26, 2012

How I've Missed This

It does not take very long for time to pass.  Sure, there are those days that seem almost a month long and weeks that practically stretch out into a year, but for the most part, life moves pretty quickly.  This is already getting cheesy as all hell, sorry.  My point is you can do your best to keep a calendar or set a specific goal, but sometimes the actually passing of time is the only thing that gets in the way.  It's not that you're lazy and it's not that your unnoticed ADD has kicked in 22 years too late.  No, do not over think this one.  Shit happens...quickly.

For me, writing always slows things down.  I am usually the one who thinks he knows what is best, acts on it, and moves on to the next decision.  Over the years I have worked on this, but, as they say, "not even God built the world in one day."  I'm rarely right and I rarely reflect, but when I write, it's different.  I can see almost every decision I have made when I either put a pen to paper or slam away at a keyboard; I am sure most of you out there - writers or not - feel the same way.  Not only can I see specifics of the past, but I must slow down what I do in the near future or it will at least be grammatically incorrect, if not illogical in theory all together.  I have the chance to sit and think - not listen and react.  The later is the new "cause and effect" of the modern day world.  Through experience, I believe there is a strong difference between listening and comprehending.

There is something important about the concept of personal reflection.  Group reflection can only do much, seeing as most of the time you end up just using another person's actions as examples of what or what not to do.  However, for me, here is something even more important about writing down personal reflection.  Every thought is placed in front of you, as odd as that thought may be.  When I write: I don't go emo, I go intro(spective).  I think things through. I articulate on a level higher than "because I said so."  I not only rationalize an idea, but I can rationalize with myself whether or not that idea makes any sense.  You can spit shit out of your mouth and say "I'm right" and get away with it, but you can never write crap down and not expect to be called out for it.  Pure beauty.

Due to the fact this blog has only been concerned with sports and music topics, I can see how this post may be a bit out of place.  I just wanted to let you know this is still my deepest passion and I have not given up on it for a desk and a 9-5.  Like I said, time moves pretty quickly; you put your head down for a second and the next thing you know is Colin Kaepernick is the starting quarterback of the San Francisco 49ers.  All kidding aside, I miss doing this.  I miss being able to jot down ideas and delete the ones that do not fit.  I miss looking up the spelling on words I can say, but can't, you know, spell.  And most of all, while I never stop having fun, this blog is part of my fun and had been neglected for awhile, so I miss you, as well (yes, all 34 of you).

Lame enough for ya?

Friday, September 14, 2012

Tito and Barry Live! #17 9/13/12

I can't believe it took us this long, but we're back. With the combination of Barry being in LA and me too loyal to do a show on my own, it took Tito and Barry Live! three whole months to get back on the air. As usual, we titillate your eardrums with sports, music, social talk, and another special guest, Barry's neighbor, Pauly Deps. So sit back, relax, kick off your shoes, crack a couple frosties, and enjoy the ride.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

G.O.O.D. Music's Cruel Summer Preview


My God.  In just seven short days, the wait will be over.  It is safe to say, other than the Season Five premiere of Sons of Anarchy tonight at 10 PM on FX (program plug!), this is the most excited I have been all summer.  Why, do you ask?  On September 18th, music fans will be able to go onto their iTunes account and purchase Kanye West's debut record label collaboration album, Cruel Summer.

For those who do not know, G.O.O.D. Music Record Label (Def Jam subdivision) was founded in 2004 and has had Yeezy as its captain since the inception.  John Legend's Get Lifted and Common's Be were the first two releases and since those albums dropped, G.O.O.D. Music has seen releases from both Man on the Moon I & II by Kid Cudi, among other up and coming artists.  However, other than the label serving it's purpose as a platform for new hip-hop artists, Ye has taken this shit to the next level the last couple of years, signing artists and starting talks of a collaboration album.

Like I said, Common had been around since '04 and Cudi signed in 2007.  These weren't big surprises, however, because Yeezy and Common are Chi-Town tight and Cudi is the protege to Kanye that Eminem was to Dre.  But when Pusha-T (of Clipse) signed along in 2010, Big Sean's Finally Famous was released a year later, and artists such as Raekwon, RZA, John Legend, Pusha-T, and others were scattered throughout Kanye's jaw-dropping My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, it looked as if Kanye was looking to go from G.O.O.D. to great with his still relatively small record label.

Well, leave it to Kanye to stay relevant throughout the entire summer.  With his creation of G.O.O.D. Fridays, basically a new song was released every Friday for several weeks, Pusha-T's feverish promotion of the record label collaboration album in live concerts and his two mixtapes, and three key album singles ("Mercy," "New God Flow," and "Don't Like"), Cruel Summer, in my opinion, has to be one of the most highly anticipated album releases in recent memory.  Ever?  No.  It can't top hip-hop blockbusters such as The Chronic or The Marshall Mathers LP or The Carter III because this isn't just one artist putting their face on a release; it's a collaboration.  That would be like saying an All-Star team was the greatest ever assembled when comparing it to regular organizations.  However, why is it so highly anticipated and why will it be so critically acclaimed?

Because Kanye West isn't skateboarding.  And that is the truth.  Well, that and Yeezy is putting his support around a different style.  Whereas I would have thought Lil Wayne would have gone out and contacted Pusha-T in 2008, he found Drake.  And where Weezy started talking his rhymes with Rick Ross rather than flowing them, Yeezy has been able to transform words to rhyme in and out of each other (go and listen to the first verse in the song "Dark Fantasy" to see what I am talking about).  To be frank, Kanye West stuck to hip-hop and Weezy went pop-rock for an album, ended up in jail, and still can't skate.

My excitement for this album does not stem from wanting to hear a new artist, I have a pretty good track record with each one of them.  What I can't wait for, though, is to see how Raekwon vibes off of Push or how smooth John Legend and Teyana Taylor harmonize together.  Cudi has gotten experimental with the WZRD drop, but the early samples of him on Cruel Summer sound like return to old form Cudi, which helped us all get laid at some point.  Simply put, I believe Cruel Summer has so much potential to thrive because it is something so new.  New artists performing together over new production, that is what it is all about.  So, let's throw out of Trukfit belts and yellow neon pants and look forward to hip-hop artists do what they do best, rap and get crazy.  Because after all, you do not sign Pusha-T to your record label to expect to have a mellow night.  Ever.

If you don't think my words did justice to the excitement, check out one of the three promotional releases for Cruel Summer, "Don't Like."  Basically, it is a song about shit people don't like and... well, I've said too much.  Enjoy.


Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Fantasy Football? I Take It More Seriously Than That

Hello, once again.  To all of those who actually missed the frequent posts on this blog, I apologize for my absence.  With the combination of finishing up my final college course at THE Santa Clara University, running food for City snobs, and searching for a potential "career," I neglected to do what I love most: talking about whatever the hell I want.

Where to start?  I mean, if you think about it, in just over the month since my last legitimate post (Baseball vs. Golf) a whole lot of shit has happened.  There have been new movies that have graced the screens, a horrific tragedy in Colorado, Un-Happy Valley, music festivals, fantastic albums, and legendary summer time tales.  Basically, I totally fucked up and chose to not document one bit of it.  Rather than giving short and sweet opinions on each of the current events previously mentioned, I thought it would be best to just start with something that happened in my life just last night (insert "Tito losing his virginity" joke here, for those assholes out there): Fantasy Football.

Now, there are plenty of people out there who take all types of fantasy sports extremely seriously.  And even though I am borderline psychotic when it comes to Fantasy Football, a few of my Santa Clara buddies can attest to the fact that I am not only a horrendous Fantasy Baseball player, but I don't even check my schedule.  So, for those who are head over heals for Fantasy Basketball, Golf, Baseball, or Hockey (which I, as a west coaster, don't even check for real life updates), I am sorry to disappoint, but I do not partake.

Fantasy Football is the closest chance I get to relating to coaches like Jim Harbaugh, Jimmy Johnson, or even the great Vince Lombardi.  For ten-twelve weeks of the regular season I get to monitor my roster like it is an actual depth chart.  I start on Monday, analyzing players' health statuses, and continue to watch like a hawk watches a pheasant high above the prairie ground.  I have never had enough confidence in my own team to not check the waiver wire or trade block once or twice throughout a given week and come  Saturday, I hit that "finalize roster" button faster than Paterno would have said "I always knew there was something up with Jerry, my bad" (Oh wait, too soon?).  Once those ten-twelve weeks are up, I expect to have a solid seed in the Fantasy Playoffs and scratch, kick, and crawl my way into the finals.

Like I said, I am sick for Fantasy Football.  Lucky for me, I am in at least one league this year where the "coaches" are as mentally unstable as I am.  Out of the fourteen of us, all were athletes at one point in their lives, one is a Bills fan, and almost all have been screaming "Who's got it better than us?" since last January.  So, like I said, we're all pretty crazy for football (and, after all, you have to be pretty crazy for the sport if you're a Bills fan).  After a couple weeks of planning, we were all able to sit in front of our computers last night and partake in the most exciting, stressful, and offensive part of the whole Fantasy season: the draft.

Having watched A&E's Intervention for the first two seasons in full, I can best relate a Fantasy Draft to heroine: there are insanely high highs, painfully low lows, and at the end of the two hours you're family has to sit you down and help you get your life back together.  But hey, it's not really heroine, so once the draft is over, the addiction continues, and there is no chance any "real life" priorities will get in the way of preparing for Week One of the Fantasy season.  Why?  Well, there is the preparation I spoke of earlier and then there is, as Ruxon from FX's The League would describe, "Rosterbation."

Rosterbation is without a doubt the most fun part of Fantasy Football, even more so than the draft, it self.  What is Rosterbation, you may ask?  It is an incredibly inappropriate term describing an individual metaphorically masturbating about the fifteen selections he/she has made in the draft.  Rosterbation happens for three simple reasons: No player has let you down and scored a low amount of points, no marquee running back has been hurt, and your wide receiver hasn't been incarcerated for a DUI.  Also, throughout the course of the draft, you have convinced yourself you are the smartest, slyest, and most deceiving drafter in all 50 states.  Simply, Rosterbation takes place right after the draft because, let's be honest, that is the happiest you're going to be all goddamned season.

While I can't say I am going to win every game or even make the playoffs, we haven't started playing yet, so I can sit here and dream.  And dream I will, readers.  I Rosterbated until 2 am last night and when I awoke this morning with a chafed mind and battery dead computer, I recharged my computer and my own metaphorical batteries, and took a serious look at my roster.  I think I have good picks, questionable picks, and some sleepers as well, but since half you have probably already given up on reading this, I'll sum it up with my three favorite picks.

Favorite Pick #1: Wes Welker, Wide Receiver, New England Patriots

Favorite Pick #2: LeSean McCoy, Running Back, Philadelphia Eagles

Favorite Pick #3: Pittsburgh Defense

The first two players are high point contributors to any Fantasy League and I feel my Pitt D is just as good as a marquee player with their ability to force turnovers and score off of said turnovers (Inceptions, Fumble Recoveries, and my all-time favorites, Pick 6's).  So, there you have it folks.  It's my first blog post in over a month, so it probably reads like absolute dog shit, but I had to put something down.  Let me know if you have started any Fantasy Leagues, who you like, and who you think is going to bust this year (cough...Cam Newton...cough).  Until next time, this is Tito Von Flavor entering your mind and stimulating your thoughts.  So long.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Yo

I haven't blogged in almost a month.  I have wanted to write about music, sports, books, and all kinds of other shit.  However, I feel like I need to spice it up a bit.  Without Barry Matic, Podcasts are kind of out of the picture.  What do you guys want to read?

Monday, July 9, 2012

PODCAST?!?

Mental: Baseball versus Golf

Since I have moved back home after completing my time at Santa Clara University, my brother and I have had loving conversations, civil disagreements, and laugh out loud moments.  At the end of almost each interaction, we have both said one word.  I say "baseball," and my younger brother, Brendan, says "golf."  No, Brendan is not describing a sport for which he was an MVP and, no, I am not describing a sport where I garnered twelve hits in as many years of competition.  What his word "golf" and my word "baseball" symbolize are two stances; stances that both of us will not back down from.  It is in this special blog that I will defend baseball as the toughest mental sport and my kid brother will defend golf.  Winner will take pride, loser will suck ween...and you all get to decide who does what.  Enjoy...

Baseball
-Tito Von Flavor

You see, we were watching an ESPN highlight where some random pitcher was playing for some random team and gave up another awe-inspiring walk-off home run.  For the sake of the story, let's call it Santiago Casilla pitching for the San Francisco Giants (since, at this point, that would seem likely).  With my quick judgement and knack for knowing everything, I turned to my brother and proclaimed, "See B, that's why baseball is, mentally, the toughest sport in the world."

The comment seemed to make plenty of sense.  Bottom of the ninth, two outs, bases loaded, and the pitcher gives up a 450 foot shot that causes every fan to want to shit down his throat (trust me, you've all been there).  From a pitcher's perspective, the entire game falls on his shoulders.  All nine innings are forgotten and unless you are a commentator or simply a good guy, you blame the ass-wipe who threw the last cream-puff across the plate.  However, pitchers are not the only ones who know the feeling of being The Last Failure Remembered.  The right fielder who drops the final out (Jay Bruce '12), the manager who forgets the rules (Mattingly '11), or the first baseman who watches the ball roll through his legs (Buckner '86) are all worthy adviseries for the category of The Last Failure Remembered.  However, what about success through failure in the sport?

That's right, even when Ted Williams achieved his magical .406 batting average in the 1941 season, he still got a hit 4 out of 10 at bats.  Just for clarification, a 4 out of 10 is an 'F' in scholastic grading, an 'F' in physical appearance rating, and an 'F' in just about every fucking category you can think of unless you are a blind kid shooting free throws... except in baseball.  My point: offensive success is built completely out of failure.  Hitting a ball as far as Josh Hamilton can be hard enough, but on top of that he, along with every other successful baseball player in history, have to be okay with failing a majority of the time.

Aside from having the god-given body of a herculean athlete, mental fortitude is what makes a 20 year veteran.  Period.

Golf
-Brendan T. Morton



When my brother stated, “See Brendan, that is why baseball is the hardest mental sport, ever”, while watching a game between two teams I could not care less about, I looked at him with an unknown feeling. It may have been hatred, confusion and love all at the same time. I sat there on my living room couch looking at him and simply said “golf”. Nothing more was said, yet our eye contact understood everything. Firmly believing baseball is the toughest mental sport in the world, he is wrong. Firmly believing golf is the toughest mental sport in the world, I am right. 


Playing the wonderful sport of golf all my life, I will defend the name of it with all my power. However, I will admit when I am wrong concerning a specific topic. When one reflects on the game of golf, the idea “mental toughness” immediately comes to mind. Having to compose oneself through an 18 hole round, roughly 4-5 hours, is no easy task. Bad shots, unpredictable weather, and flaring tempers can all contribute to the mental focus of that less than one second swing. Such a swing can send the ball left or right, far or near, forwards and even backwards. The hardest part about that process is that on average, the professional golfer has to retain this focus around 70 times per round. The phrase “short-term memory” is essential to a golfers success. Being able to forget and compose oneself after a poor shot, or superior shot for that matter takes years and years of practice. My father always told me before I played “that the only shot you can control is the one you are about to hit”. My philosophy is simple: the ball does not know that you either hit it thirty yards left of the target, or knocked it two feet from the pin; the ball does not know a thing. However, it is the player’s mental serenity and toughness, which contribute to high-quality shots. To become a great golfer, one must possess hand-eye coordination, endurance, and the diligent ability to surpass all negative thoughts in order to achieve greatness. “…baseball is the hardest mental sport, ever” my ass. 

I can agree with my brother that baseball can mentally tear down a player in a matter of moments. For example, say a player strikes out for his second time in the game and is starting to become irritated. He then goes back to the dugout to reflect, maybe throw a bat or Gatorade jug around to relieve some anger, and then calm down. Let’s just say that he has a total of 20 minutes to clear his thoughts as he goes through the inning playing defense before his next “at-bat”. That is quite a bit of time to regain mental toughness if you ask me. Don’t get me wrong, though, I have incredible amounts of respect for baseball players and their ability to hit a 100 mile per hour fastball over 400 feet. They are freak athletes and can do things other athletes could only dream of. However, the sport of baseball is not the toughest mental sport ever. While a baseball player has roughly 15-20 minutes to ponder and reflect, a golfer has to exercise his or her mental power in no more than 2 minutes before the next shot, for pace of play keeps players on their toes all the time. 

So, to my dearest brother Tito, I love you and enjoy the fact we can have this civil debate. That said, you my friend are wrong. Golf is the hardest mental sport, ever. 
   

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Tito and Barry Live! #14

Enjoy!

Tito and Barry Live! #15 (Don't remember the date)

Here is another podcast we did with the Crackling Oats Band. These dudes are some jamming animals and laid down brand new tracks that have yet to be recorded, enjoy!

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Senior Capstone 2012


Scott Morton
Journalism Capstone
Word Count: 3,711

From Jumpshots to Strikeouts:
Stephen Lumpkins’ Journey from College Basketball to Professional Baseball and What It Means for Sport

            As cars take the off ramp on Highway 280 and speed past High Road, by the luxurious entrance to Menlo Country Club, and move closer to the residential housing of Redwood City, California, they pass the baseball field at Woodside High School.  Usually packed with fans of Woodside Wildcat baseball, the seats and field are empty.  On this breezy afternoon in July, summer of 2010, only Stephen Lumpkins pitches to his father, Larry, in a catcher’s stance behind the mound 60 feet, 6 inches away.  This was the first chance I had to see his motion since senior year of high school in 2008.
            Lumpkins’ 6’8” and 225 lb. stature is intimidation on the mound that cannot be taught.  Lumpkins settles, places his left foot parallel to the white rubber, kicks his right knee up past his waist, turns his shoulders slightly, positions his left arm behind him, and rifles a 90 mile per hour fast ball to his father.  60 more pitches, quick two-mile run, and appropriate stretching techniques follow.
Baseball workouts multiplied for the 20 year old that 2010 summer because the Pittsburgh Pirates took Lumpkins in the 42nd round of the Major League Baseball draft.  Throwing for various scouts, pitching at different major league showcases, and hiring, in effect, a baseball organization headhunter over the summers, allowed Lumpkins to garner recognition from the Pirates, Kansas City Royals, and San Francisco Giants.  Still a sophomore in college, scouts wanted Lumpkins to forgo his remaining college days, but he opted to stay for his junior year at American University.
            The Kansas City Royals selected Lumpkins in the 13th round of the following year’s draft and, faced with a hefty signing bonus of $150,000, it was hard for the big lefty to turn down the offer.  Lumpkins decided to forgo his senior year at AU and enter into the farms system of Major League Baseball.  However, Lumpkins was not leaving behind a college baseball team; he was leaving the American University Eagles Men’s Basketball Program. 
            After a wonderful two-sport career in high school, Lumpkins took the best offer that was placed in front of him – a full ride scholarship to American University.  Rather than letting the full ride define him, Lumpkins never gave up on his dream and is now pursuing a career as a major league pitcher.  His college basketball career saved a healthy arm, something young athletes who specialize in one sport can learn from and even though he deals with the highs and lows of minor league baseball, Lumpkins is chasing his dreams and has already garnered acclaim, redefining what it means to “succeed” as a professional.
A Leg Up On the Competition (Well, In This Case, an Arm)

            It is a hot day in Surprise, Arizona.  Only 10:00 am, and the thermometer in the rental car reads 92 degrees.  On this day, Surprise Stadium hosts the Royals and the Seattle Mariners instructional teams.  While Spring Training ends on April 4, players who are still in the lowest levels of the minor leagues, as Lumpkins is, spend an additional two months in “extended spring,” or minor league purgatory as one player called it.  Sports fans assume there are only three levels of minor league ball – Single A, Double A, and Triple A.  In fact, teams like the Mariners and Royals have six levels of minor league play – Rookie Ball, Instructional League, Low Single A, High Single A, Double A, and Triple A.  It takes minor leaguers as many as four years to even touch MLB grass.
            Due to rules put in place by Commissioner Bud Selig and Major League Baseball, unless a baseball player is drafted directly out of high school he must spend at least three years in college before entering the draft.  Because Lumpkins was a college basketball player, the MLB’s draft age rule did not apply and teams were able to scout him.  Through the combination of not pitching in college, pitching only 3 years of high school ball, and playing primarily two sports his entire life, Lumpkins’ arm is simply healthier than the other pitchers in the Royals organization.  
            Laurie Rossi, Certified Athletic Trainer and Lumpkins’ high school trainer, attributes his healthy arm to not specializing in sport too early in life.  “You’re seeing a downtrend in (kids playing multiple sports) because kids are starting to specialize early,” Rossi says.  “You’re basketball players play basketball all year long, you’re football players play football and do strength and conditioning all year long; what athletes forget sometimes is they need to rest.”  Rossi commented on how she no longer sees two or three sport athletes as commonly as she once did.  In fact, muscle over usage is what Lumpkins has avoided and therefore has a leg up (well, in this case an arm) on the competition.  “There’s no doubt my arm is more fresh than almost everyone out here in Arizona,” Lumpkins admits.  “Sure, I might not throw as hard as some of them now, but I have a lot more mileage left to make improvements than some of the other kids out here who already have had ‘tommy john’ surgeries and stuff like that.”
            According to baseball-reference.com, Tommy John surgery, more properly known as ulnar collateral ligament reconstruction (or UCL), is a surgical operation in which a ligament in the medial elbow is replaced with a tendon from elsewhere in the body (often from the forearm, hamstring, or foot of the patient).  Dr. Frank Jobe first developed the procedure in 1974 for pitcher Tommy John.  Although John’s chances of a full recovery were set at 1 in 100, a rigorous 18-month rehabilitation schedule was created and John returned the following year and pitched until he was 46.  Although the modern recovery is around 85 to 90 percent, the surgery was created for veteran ballplayers, not young athletes.  I talked to five pitchers in Surprise and, with the exception of Lumpkins, four of them already had “Tommy John” surgery before the age of 25.
            Lumpkins is doing away with the notion that you have to specialize in one sport in order to garner success.  Essentially skipping baseball for three years of his college career, Stephen is less likely to join the list of 192 pitchers who have received “Tommy John.”  “When an athlete does have an injury, if they have not rested, it does take longer to heal,” adds Rossi.  “What he really needs to do is just shut down and rest.”
            Lumpkins has what baseball coaches refer to as a “live arm.”  It is healthy, it has a lot of mileage left, and these are due to Lumpkins’ lack of sports specialization throughout his entire athletic career.  However, the knowledge of professional baseball and the minor league system were not taught to Lumpkins in a college classroom.  This vertical learning curve on the mound, Lumpkins says, is the toughest challenge of all.
The Blank Slate Perspective

As we sit in his apartment room playing our third round of Tigers Woods 2012 on the Xbox, Lumpkins recalls his first ever start as a member of the Royals.  Lumpkins, a man of direct dialogue, reflected, “It was wild.”  According to Tom Schad of The Washington Post, “(Lumpkins) was rattled…walking one batter, allowing another to score on a wild pitch and even balking on a pickoff move.”  All in all, it was a terrible first impression.  “What do people expect though?” Lumpkins retorted.  “I went from being the center of attention to a minor leaguer.  I don’t care who you are – coach, reporter, parent, fan; you can’t expect me to pitch lights out in my first organized inning since high school.”
            Lumpkins makes an excellent point, but he knows his insight will not be allowed as an excuse in the eyes of his manager and coaches.  The Royals are monitoring Lumpkins day in and day out.  Tony Siegle, Senior Advisor of Baseball Operations for the San Francisco Giants, knows there are coaches everywhere watching Lumpkins such as managers, two coaches, trainers, physical fitness specialist; all on each of the minor league clubs.  “These players are constantly under supervision,” says Siegle.  “You sign a young boy, the instructions are a lot, but it is all helpful and it is all up to the kid.  He has to want to do it.”
It is easy for people to assume the changes Lumpkins must make to his motion are major.  In the long run, the changes made will be major improvements, but in Surprise, Arizona, his actual motion is changed very little.  Trevor Wilson, the pitching coach for the Los Angeles Angels AA team, knows that Lumpkins needs to master particular pitching techniques in order to move up the minor league ranks.  Wilson, a former major leaguer, said, “What he needs to do is learn to repeat his delivery, repeat his strike release point, and throw at least two different pitches.”  A strike release point, in layman’s terms, is a consecutive, consistent release point in your arm stroke that will allow one to throw the ball over the plate.  Wilson, having been told Lumpkins is a 6’8” lefty, added Lumpkins need to pitch “down-hill,” be able to pitch inside to left handed hitters, and throw his breaking ball for strikes.
As a tall, lengthy, left-handed pitcher, Stephen Lumpkins resembles the athletic build of a young Randy Johnson.  However, whereas Randy Johnson learned proper throwing mechanics while attending the University of Southern California, Lumpkins is learning what he must fix on the fly in extended spring. “I am definitely behind on some things, no doubt,” says Lumpkins.  “The upside to being behind and having a tough learning curve, though, is I do not have a lot of bad habits.”
            These bad habits are mostly caused by throwing one way for an entire career.  Given that, due to Lumpkins’ stint with college basketball, poor arm release or misplacement of foot-on-rubber formed in high school have been forgotten.  Pitching while in college only happened 3 months out of the year, such that Lumpkins is a blank slate which the Royals organization gets to draw all over.  As Wilson said, the big lefty is similar to a clean portrait, a sponge waiting to soak up all sorts of information.  His lack of pitching experience in recent years has actually helped Stephen forget, or never even develop, the bad habits he may have formed if he been an athlete who played baseball nonstop; an athlete like John Karcich.
            Karcich, a former Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim prospect, likened Lumpkins’ mental learning curve to that of a high school athlete skipping college, going straight to the professional level.  Karcich, a five-year minor league veteran, was recently cut by the Angels organization. Unlike Karcich, Lumpkins was thrown into the world of professional baseball without the help of a college baseball coach who could prepare him for what he would face – early mornings, stiff competition, and physically demanding mechanical critics.  Even though Lumpkins experienced the pressures of a college sport, Karcich says because it was a different sport that the experience goes out the window.  “Lumpkins was fortunate to go to school at American, out of his hometown state,” says Karcich.  “He learned a lot about life.  Although, not playing baseball could hurt him because when the Royals drafted him in 2011, he was not part of the system of playing baseball everyday.  It probably took him about a year to get used to.”
All that Was Left Behind…
It is 5:00 ET on March 26, 2011 in Washington D.C.  Stephen Lumpkins and his American Eagles are squaring off against the Lafayette Leopards in the semifinal round of the Patriot League Tournament.  Bender Arena, American’s home court, is packed to capacity with students, alumni, faculty, and ESPN commentators.  Signs read “The Lumpkin Patch” and cheerleaders ascend into the air, flipping and twirling about.  As soon as the ball is tipped off at center court, the game is an all out war.  Lafayette went into the half up by two, but regulation ended in a 53-53 tie.  As the final seconds in the second overtime were counting down, Lafayette hit a 3-point shot to win, 73-71.  As the arena went deathly silent, the American players and fans stood in shock.  Fans knew it was American’s final game of the year, but little did Lumpkins know it was the final game of his basketball career.
When Lumpkins committed to AU, Lumpkins was given a “full ride,” a luxury that would be foolish to pass up.  After joining the Royals, American took away Lumpkins’ scholarship, but the Royals Organization agreed to pay for his senior year, as long as he finished all classes within ten years.  Joe Hill, Lumpkins’ teammate at AU, was upset when his best friend left early, but accepted the decision because it was what Lumpkins wanted.  Lump was one of the centerpieces of our team. He was a very skilled offensive player and a great rebounder,” said Hill.  Aside from the basketball aspect, Hill also knows Lumpkins missed out on his final year at AU, a special time for any college student.
Friday nights at Santa Clara University consist of keg parties and beautiful women.  Friday nights in Surprise, Arizona consist of casino gambling and a rare trip to Tempe, which is an hour away.  Lumpkins is up at 5:30 am and on the field early everyday.  If a team is out there past 2:00 pm the heat becomes unbearable.  Hill started at AU the same year Lumpkins did, so knows how his friend felt leaving his fellow teammates a year early.  “Senior year of college is a special experience,” said Hill.  It's hard to beat playing on an athletics team with all of your best friends in college, so I think that's what he misses.”
Lumpkins could have played his senior year at American.  He could have received his education in the traditional four years of higher education.  John Bryant, a former Santa Clara basketball star, completed his degree in four years and represents, in effect, the road Lumpkins could have taken.  “I did not want to become one of those athletes who does not earn a degree and my professional career runs it’s course,” said Bryant.  John Bryant, a 7’0” center was a dominant force as a Santa Clara Bronco.  Even though NBA teams scouted him, Bryant stayed for his senior year, enjoyed the social scene, received his degree, and is now enjoying a productive career overseas.  While Lumpkins is completing his Business degree on-line, there is no denying he knows on what he passed.
 “When I have a bad outing or if I am bored to hell on a weekend night, I think, ‘Man, I wish I was just playing basketball again.’  Those thoughts come and go, though,” says Lumpkins.  “You can’t think like that out here.  You do not get given what you want; you have to work for it.  I want to pitch in the primetime spotlight.  I have to work for it.”
…For Love of the Game        
Despite the legacy and wonderful accomplishments, Lumpkins never played basketball for the celebrity status; he played because he loved the game.  It is the same reason he wakes up at 5:30 am every day in Surprise, Arizona.  Professional baseball is Lumpkins’ dream.  “I did not wake up in the morning with the dream to play for a German club basketball team.  I woke up and went to bed dreaming of pitching in the majors.  There’s nothing wrong with European ball or basketball in general.  Baseball was my dream.”
Charlie Bertucio, a former minor league ballplayer in the Baltimore Orioles organization, knows that the transition from a normal young adult’s life to the everyday grind of a minor leaguer is a difficult one.  Whereas Lumpkins is stationed in Surprise, AZ, Bertucio was sent to Blue Field, West Virginia.  There are no keg parties, players do not room down the hall from fun loving co-eds, and time moves much more slowly when a player first starts out.  Bertucio cited feelings of anxiety when he first arrived in Blue Field, because practices and games started the day after he arrived.  A player truly has to look after himself in order to chase the dream and battle what lies ahead.
            When American took that painful loss to Lafayette in 2011, the coaches and team knew they would be even better the following year with Lumpkins as a senior.  Lumpkins was aware the entire offense was going to be built around him; in reality, Lumpkins was American’s only major scoring threat with true game experience.  Lumpkins knows, though, that you do not play a sport because other people depend on you, which is what “team” means.  An athlete plays a sport because it makes him or her personally satisfied.  Fred Smith, Associate Athletic Director at Santa Clara University, sees decisions like the one Lumpkins made as simply having another goal set.  Smith has spent a great deal of time with athletes who only have played one sport their entire life.  Smith spoke on those athletes who seem to define themselves by their sport, “It’s sad.  How do you know at 12 years old that soccer is my path or baseball is my path?  Okay, I want a college scholarship; I’ve got my college scholarship.  Now what?  You don’t have that next goal set.”
            Lumpkins continues to set goals.  It would be naïve of an athlete to think it is easy to become a professional.  However, that is not why athletes should play the game.  Lumpkins cannot and will not beat himself up if he does not make it to “The Show.”  Lumpkins has already achieved success in two sports because he did not let either one define him; he just followed his dreams, even though one of those dreams came with a signing bonus.
Find Success in the Little Things

As I sat behind the fence at the Surprise Stadium complex in Arizona, the triple digit temperatures made each inning feel like a daylong.  The sweat from my baseball cap began to drip down on my notepad as I listened to pitcher Dusty Odenbach and first baseman Ryan Mead drone on about which superheroes from the new Avengers movie they would want to be and why.  I thought, “Who in the hell would want to do this?”
Aside from the literal heat, competition gets hot with little teammate support at this game.  These ball players are not playing to win games, they’re playing to move up the minor league ranks.  Until recently, every single pitcher or position player has competed to win, for the team.  This concept is turned on its head when they arrive in Surprise.  Matt Murray signed a $75,000 contract bonus out of college two years ago, and promises there is more pressure in the instructional league than there is at higher levels.  Murray, a “Tommy John” victim, has a cynical view of instructional ball because he cannot go out and show any signs of improvement when injured.  A pitcher by the name of “Crawford” signed for $1,000,000 at the age of 18, but he had “Tommy John” and has been sidelined, as well.  Just as a reference, Charlie Bertuccio, drafted in 1981, was a 9th round pick and received $3,000.  Lumpkins, who was a 13th rounder and signed for $150,000, agrees with Murray and knows his coaches care more about the development of an individual than anything else.  “It is definitely something to get used to,” Murray added.
Although these signing bonuses translate to potential successes, it would seem wiser for a player to find success in the fact they are playing America’s pastime of baseball.  Matt Oye, a pitcher for the Angles’ AA team in Little Rock, knows his profession is not just a dream for young kids; it is still a dream for adults, as well.  Oye, in his second year with the Angels, was not drafted out of college and knows how fortunate he is to be given the great opportunity of playing baseball professionally.  “I am very passionate about this game and feel very blessed to play it,” says Oye.  “Even having the chance to be signed is a success.  I am one of the very few who gets to say they played professional baseball; at any level.”  Lumpkins shares Oye’s view, because his dream to play is being realized daily.
So What?

            It has been written about several times in sport: the multisport professional athlete.  There are athletes who played two sports in college, but only one sport professionally, such as San Diego Chargers Tight End Antonio Gates.  He played basketball and football while attending Kent State, but only plays football now.  There is Julius Peppers, who was an All-League Defensive End and athletic power forward at the University of North Carolina, but like Gates, only plays football currently.  There is “Primetime” Deion Sanders, who started out as a lock down cornerback in the NFL and eventually played centerfield for 10 MLB seasons.  And, nobody should forget the great Bo Jackson, a powerful NFL running back and also an MLB All-Star in 1989.  However, has there been an athlete like Stephen Lumpkins, who played one sport in college and then transitioned to an entirely different sport professionally?  It would appear not since Kenny Lofton in 1996.  Lofton played three years of basketball at the University of Arizona before trying out for the baseball team his senior year.  Lofton went on to play 16 years of Major League Baseball.  And, while Lumpkins still has a chance to join that group of 1% to play professional baseball, he is presently redefining what it means to succeed.
As Lumpkins sits at the Pai Gow poker table at Casino Arizona, he places his full house down on the table, busting the dealer’s three of a kind.  He smiles at the $50 dollars he had already thrown into the pot and says, “This is exactly where I want to be.”