Sports Then and Now

Some stories are meant to make you laugh. Some are meant to make you cry.

Others are simply meant to make you get out of bed, look in the mirror and recite to your reflection, “How Lucky Am I?”

I told of the “Pebble In My Shoe” in the opening piece, which chronicled my battle with situational depression (the loss of my wife, my kids, my house, my job, and my self esteem left me cowering like a baby most mornings).

My informal introduction to Roger Crawford saved my life. I read Roger’s story in “Chicken Soup for the Soul” every day until I committed it to memory. Each day I’d rise licking my emotional wounds and think of “my imaginary friend, Roger” immediately realizing that my plight in life isn’t so bad. Read the rest of this entry →

I woke up one morning in 1996, and it was clear to me. I’d never been more sure of anything in my life.

I didn’t want to play anymore.

In a span of three months or so, which may have even been a bit longer, I stopped caring.

I had lost my wife and my two daughters to divorce, lost my job, lost my house, and, more importantly than any of that, lost my desire to live.

What did I have to live for? Things will never get better. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. No place to live, no place to go, and virtually nothing to live for.

I looked in the mirror that day and asked God the most basic of all questions. A question we’ve all asked at various points in our lives. Why me? Why me, God? I’m a nice guy. I feel like I always think of others before I think of myself. I do unto others. Why me, man? Why me? Read the rest of this entry →