Tonight

I get tons of emails about playing soccer with me on Wednesday nights. (OK, that actual number might be closer to zero) Herewith is why I play. Ignore the glitz and glam. The scenes of playing are dead on. This was directed by the ever brilliant Guy Ritchie

Comments

Anonymous said…
That was an awesome clip. loved it! The concentration on body parts associated with the sport was spot on, as Guy might say.
It makes me want to write an ATHF just to include this post in circulation but I am too busy today.
9:08 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

For Gerard

 Many moons ago, I started reading blogs and shortly thereafter I started reading them.  I became discouraged because I read many writers, far more talented than me and the ease with which they elucidated the very points I wanted to make but so much more elegantly and completely that I just gave up.    Gerard of American Digest was one such writer.  His facility with prose and his ability to evoke emotion was remarkable.  I linked to him once with my nascent blog and he was kind enough to reach out to me and thank me for the link.  I literally had zero readers.  Just like now.  But that was the measure of the man.  He took the time to reach out to me and genuinely thank me for the link.   The closest I ever had to meeting the man was meeting Morgan in person.  Morgan and Gerard were friends.  They had an evident mutual respect for their respective works.   I never met Gerard, didn't know the man personally but having read his work I had a sense of the man.  He's dying now.  If
Read more

So....the autism thing

Since April is nearly over and it's autism awareness month, I suppose I should talk a bit about it. I guess the best way to start is to rehash the story of How I Got Here. My oldest was born in 1999. Healthy, happy and so on. One peculiar thing he did as an infant was to avoid eye contact. Our doctor assured us it was because he was so young and his eyesight was undeveloped and he was probably focusing on something in the background that was more interesting. Besides, babies don't recognize faces for a few months after birth. Only later did we find out that our doctor was an idiot. He was 16 mos. old when his little brother was born and he was walking and making wishes known by pulling me or my wife by the hand to whatever he wanted etc. He was fascinated with the wheels on toys. If you gave him a truck he'd turn it over and spin the wheels and smile. Only later would I find out this is a major warning sign. This was our first born and what the hell did I know?
Read more