Monthly Archives: September 2012

Bring Back My Football

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If you’re a fan of the NFL, you’ve heard about the referee lockout by now. Three weeks into the 2012 season has seen countless examples on how the replacement refs are making bad calls, some of which have determined the outcomes of games incorrectly. Not only that, going into week 3, many coaches had prepared for this week by letting their players know that they could get away with some more rough and tumble things both during the play and after the whistle had blown. Mike Pereira, former Vice President of Officiating for the NFL, said in on Fox Sports Radio this past Tuesday:

I saw a lack of control with the replacement officials. You have players and coaches that have lost respect for these officials and they know they’re getting away with more. You saw more rough and tumble stuff going on after a play is over. As this thing goes on, the coaches trust the officials less. When I watched Monday night’s game, I was sad because it’s not the NFL I know.

It’s not the NFL I know, either. What I have been seeing in the games I have watched is something akin to a backyard game where players blatantly break the rules knowing that there will be no repercussions. It is sad and it’s making a mockery of the game I love to watch.

At the end of last year’s season, the CBA for the NFLRA expired. The NFL and the RA have been in talks since last October in an effort to salvage an agreement. Obviously, one has not been met. What is it the refs want? Money, what else?

But here’s the thing – unlike referees in the MLB, NBA or NHL, the NFL refs are part timers. They hold down full-time jobs in the off season. When not on the field, these guys make money – and more of it – then when they officiate a game.

Ed Hochulis, Successful Trial Lawyer. Fact.

Let’s look at some numbers. The starting salary for a part-time, first year NFL official is $78,000. Compare that to the starting salary of a full-time MLB umpire at $120,000. NBA and NHL officials similarly make 6 figures.

You may be scratching your head. $78k for a part-time job seems pretty damn plush to me and it is. If you assume that a MLB umpire works every game, that’s 162 games. $120,000/162 games = $741 per game. If an NFL ref works every game, we can call it 20 games. $78,000/20 games = $3900 per game.

Wow. Keep those numbers in mind as I give you an example what this lockout is doing to football.

I don’t watch all the games. I can’t. I watch the ones that are broadcast in my market and all of the New England Patriots games. Last night, the Pats played the Ravens in Baltimore. I always enjoy watching these two teams duke it out against each other and always feel satisfied for having watched a good game no matter if the Pats win or lose, but last night I was totally dissatisfied.

The replacement refs did one of the worst jobs officiating a game that I have seen or even heard of so far. I have a copy of last night’s game summary sheet (all 18 pages of it) so I’m gonna drop some facts on you.

In last night’s game, there were a total of 24 penalties called for a whopping 218 penalty yards. Many of those calls should never have happened and there were things that happened that should have been penalized but weren’t – for both teams. Late in the fourth quarter, the Baltimore Bench was penalized for unsportsmanlike conduct when head coach of the Ravens, Jim Harbaugh, was trying to get the attention of an official, any official, so he could call a time out. He didn’t do anything that I haven’t seen a head coach do before in all the years of watching football games. He waved his arms, made the universal time out sign with his hands, and shouted for someone to pay attention. Big deal! and So what? It was a bullshit call and it cost the Ravens 15 yards.

Minutes earlier, another bad call was made that may have cost the Patriots the game. Here’s the setup: The Ravens have the ball and they’re down by 9 points. It’s 2nd down with 14 yards to go. Joe Flacco lets loose with a pass down the right side to Torrey Smith. The pass is broken up by Devon McCourty for an incomplete pass. That’s what I saw. That’s what the commentators saw. That’s what the replay showed. However, McCourty was hit for Defensive Holding. The penalty? 5 yards for Baltimore and an automatic 1st down. It kept the Raven’s drive alive, which ultimately ended in a touchdown, bringing them within 2 points of the Pats. Chris Collinsworth, one of the game’s commentators, after seeing the replay in which McCourty never touched Smith, said in a very sarcastic manner, “Yep. Keep negotiating.”

If McCourty didn’t draw a flag (as he shouldn’t have), who’s to say whether Baltimore could have converted on 3rd and 14? I don’t know for sure. I do know that the odds are against it (despite what Flacco may think) and they might not have been able to get the touchdown they needed to bring the score within two, making it a very different game with a different outcome.

One call the replacement refs got right was on the game winning field goal by the Ravens, but it’s based on a dumbass rule. When a field goal attempt is made, there is an official standing directly underneath each of the uprights on the goal post. The ball is kicked, and the refs look straight up, watching to see if the ball goes between the uprights. Because the refs are looking straight up it’s assumed, by rule, the the uprights extend infinitely toward the sky. It is also a rule that if the ball passes the uprights higher than the tops of the uprights where the uprights would continue to the sky, the kick is considered good. Never mind that if the ball is a few feet lower it’ll hit the upright and potentially bounce back onto the field or somewhere else. It’s a rule and the refs called it right.

So, this game is but one example of the chaos being sown by the NFLRA lockout and it’s a game that’s going to get a lot of media attention this coming week, just watch and see. NFL Network is already debating it.

Remember the numbers I talked about earlier? Do you think this chaos is worth the regular refs getting paid more when they are already the highest paid officials per game across the major sports organizations?

UPDATE

…and then this happened on Monday night:

Touchdown! Incomplete pass! Touchdown! Incomplete Pass! You got your chocolate in my peanut butter!

I thought things were bad, but this, this is just ridiculous.

NFL and refs, come to a decision soon. Somebody’s got to give. Take a look at the Twittersphere, guys. The players don’t want to play in this atmosphere anymore.

Dude Write
Dude Write turns 16 this week. Go check out some awesome dude writers.

Professors Barrie and Darling

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Photo by Laura Mitchell

Professor Darling was startled from his work when his colleague, Professor Barrie, burst into his office waving a sheaf of papers above his head.

“The evidence is rock solid!” Barrie shouted, nearly hopping from foot to foot.

“Eh, what?” Darling carefully placed his pen down on his desk. “What are you going on about?”

“This!” Barrie waved the papers again. “Look here,” he dropped a paper on the desk. “Geologic make up.”

Another paper. “Carbon dating.”

And another. Barrie whispered in a frenzy, “DNA sampling.”

Darling glanced at the papers, picking each up in turn. “These are all from the same sample?”

“Sample?” Barrie grinned. “I should say so. It’s from the latest ‘statue’ to be recovered from Pompeii.”

Darling was confused. “The one with the wings?”

“Yes! Look at the DNA report again.”

Darling’s eyes widened in shock as he read the report again. “This isn’t human,” he muttered. “It’s not even…”

“It’s not anything we’ve seen before,” Barrie was quivering. “Faeries do exist.”

Trying my hand at the Friday Fictioneers picture prompt for the first time this week. 100 words, more or less, based on the picture.

11338037-pile-of-old-books-and-scroll-on-brown

Out of the Frying Pan …

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This Hannah Anne story takes place a few weeks after the events described in “All the Demons” and A Gold Medal. For all the other Hannah Anne stories, please visit the Hannah Anne Page.

Hannah Anne sat on the floor of her living room, piles of books and old vellum scrolls scattered about. She was thumbing through a large volume on her lap, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips with each turn of the page. Bridget lay on the couch, watching Animal Planet.

Without looking up from her book, Hannah mumbled to the long-haired goat, “You know I’m going to have to brush the couch tomorrow, don’t you?” for the tenth time.

Bridget was beyond responding and only glared at the back of Hannah’s head.

Week’s done, this year’s garage sale had been a bust thanks to Roddy Garry. Everything had been packed away, including the box of special items for the special customers. Well, all but the Bowl of Winds. That sat on a shelf in the basement under an old pillow case. It was simply too big to put anywhere else. What occupied Hannah now was a puzzle she had been unable to solve.

In the days following the garage sale debacle, Hannah had talked to a few of her neighbors while occupying Bridget on her walks. What they told her all amounted to the same thing; they had all been overcome with with strong panic and fear when Roddy Garry opened the door to hell. The puzzle was that Hannah was the only one who was not.

Two days of pouring through her aunt’s old texts had turned up nothing.

Hannah slammed the book shut and pushed it off her lap onto the pile in front of her. Bridget made an inquiring sound.

“I don’t know, Bridget,” Hannah rubbed her eyes. “I can’t find anything. I should have been running away screaming like everyone else.” Hannah stood, rubbing the small of her back. “I’m going to make some tea. You want anything?”

Bridget pointedly stared at the television.

Hannah carefully navigated the mess on the floor. “Fine, then. I don’t know why I’m so nice to you, meanie.” Bridget snorted.

After tea was made, a soothing orange chamomile blend, Hannah pulled out the two ledger books for the store. Hannah inherited The Seven of Cups: Herbs and Sundry from her aunt as well. Business wasn’t exactly booming, but she could see that she needed to restock sage for smudging. Mrs. Johannson had purchased all she had in stock, convinced that she could get rid of the negativity in her house. Hannah was sure that Mrs. Johannson would be best served by telling her twenty-two year old son to move out of the basement or to at least find a job.

Hannah began making two lists of items she needed for the store: those she had to order and those she could provide from her own garden.

Deep in her work, her puzzle temporarily forgotten, Hannah jumped out of her chair when the kitchen door banged open. She just glimpsed Bridget’s behind as the nanny let herself out.

“Bridget! What’s the matter with you?” Hannah stood in the doorway watching the goat walk deeper into the yard. Hannah shivered. The air held a misty chill. “Ugh, you could have at least closed the door.” As Hannah pushed the door shut, she caught the sounds of Meerkat Manor coming from the living room. “And turned off the television!”

Once again navigating the living room mess, Hannah turned off the television and jumped a second time when someone banged on her front door.

“Hannah! Hannah!” The banging continued. “Hannah! I’m coming in!”

The door burst open and a figure stumbled in, mist tendriling in around them.

“Deborah?” Hannah caught her sister before she fell down. “What’s going on?”

Deborah righted herself, broke free of Hannah’s grasp, slammed the door shut and began beating at her body and legs swiping off mist that clung to her.

“Deb!” Hannah grabbed her sister’s shoulders and tried to stop her. “Deb, what’s happening?”

Deborah stopped and stared at Hannah, her eyes wild, long blonde hair a tangled mess. Pushing her glasses back up her nose with one finger, a gesture Hannah knew as a show of nervousness in her sister, Deborah whispered with strain, “I didn’t think anything would happen.”

“By the Three, what did you do?”

“I’m…,” Deborah hesitated. “I’m not sure. Johnathan and I…”

“Johnathan!” Hannah stepped back. “I thought you were done with that jerk.”

“Nevermind that!” Deborah screamed. “They took him!”

“What? Who took him?”

“I don’t know!” Deborah fell against the wall and slid down on her haunches. “The things in the mist.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was the mist.”

Hannah glared down at her sister. There was a reason that Aunt June had left everything to Hannah and not both sisters or even just Deborah. Deborah had no affinity for magic and no desire to learn.

Hannah spoke slowly. “Deborah, what did you do?”

Deborah’s shoulders were shaking with quiet tears. “I found one of Auntie’s old books when I was here last and took it home.”

Hannah made an exasperated sound. “You stole from me?”

“Borrowed!” Deborah looked up Hannah. “Borrowed. I was going to give it back.”

Hannah growled, “What did you do with it, Deb?”

“Johnathan found it and started looking through it, wanting to know if this was the kind of thing that my ‘weirdo sister’ believed in,” Deborah shook her head. “I tried to tell him it was real, but he started reading from it.”

Hannah looked ready to chew nails. “What book and what did he read?”

“Oh god, don’t hurt him, Hannah. I know that look.”

“What flipping book and what did he read?” Hannah shouted.

Deborah sagged. “Peadric’s Incantium. I don’t know what spell it was, but I remember what he said.”

Remembering the mist and now knowing the book, Hannah knew very well what Johnathan had read:

Pitter patter
Lightning spree
People of the mist
I summon thee!

“You have to help me, Hannah,” Deborah pleaded. “I think we’re in trouble.”

“You have no idea,” Hannah’s voice was far away.

For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, SAM gave me this prompt: Pitter patter, / Lightning spree / People of the mist / I summon thee!.

I gave Tara Roberts this prompt: Memento Mori

Dude Write
It’s the 15th week of Dude Write and they’re talking about magic for the week. Why not send in my latest Hannah Anne and see what happens?

Could I have a Word with you, please?

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Late last week, I made a decision that was very hard to make. My days have been filled with many tasks and I have been finding it increasingly difficult to keep up with them all. It’s strange, but I thought that the kids going back to school would help clear my schedule somewhat. Between the daily household tasks and my various writing projects, my days have been filled to bursting. I came to the conclusion that I need to trim the fat, so to speak. I needed to find somewhere to make a cut and free up some time so that I can work on the Easy Money comic and a novel.

I decided to step down as co-leader of Studio30 Plus.

Not to worry, though! Studio30 is in very capable hands. Kelly is still in charge and the support staff is still in place. I’m sure we will see some cool things from them in the future. I just couldn’t be a part of it anymore.

I wish the Studio30 staff continued success in the future.

I have also been having a difficult time focusing on one project. I feel that it is time for me to make a serious attempt at writing a novel, but I have too many ideas. I put the question to you last week on Facebook. Today, I announce the results of what you guys have chosen for my novel project.

Here are the results of the poll:

1800′s Novel – 3 votes
Hannah Anne Novel – 5 votes
The Linden Tree Novel – 8 votes

Since half the people who voted chose The Linden Tree, it is obviously the clear winner. There was some confusion during the polling process (when isn’t there? Whatever happened to President Gore?). A few people (parental units from both families) were unfamiliar with Hannah Anne. One even stated that after having read one story, “I thought that it was someone else who wrote it so I didn’t read any of the others.” I should take that as a compliment, because I did write them and if I was able to bust out of my usual style and tell a good and believable story from a woman’s point of view – I call that success! Cameron Garriepy, a wonderful fiction writer said this about what I did, “Really great details to ground the character, Eric, and female without being cliché.”

So, I think Hannah may have lost votes because some people didn’t think I wrote them. I also think that there may have been confusion surrounding The Linden Tree as well. When I listed in the poll, “Linden Tree Novel,” I meant an actual novel, not a continuation of the serial on the blog. So, if you were voting for the serial, that’s not what I was talking about.

What I think I’m going to do is continue The Linden Tree as a serial on the blog. I’m going to try for an episode a week. That should keep you voters satisfied. The reason for this is that the concept of the story was to tell it as a serial and translating it into a novel format might be more work than I can deal with right now (translating it into a comic, well, that could happen!). For the time being, I am going to begin work on a Hannah Anne book while still using Hannah Anne for writing prompt responses when appropriate (look for one for Scriptic.org in a few days! Thanks, SAM!)

So, that’s it, I think. The Linden Tree makes a comeback, Hannah Anne is getting her own book and Studio30 Plus is in better hands.

Onward!

 

Time To Go To The Polls

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Me, trying to decide what to do next.

I find myself torn between three novel projects with very little headway being made on any of them. I need to choose one project and see it through to completion.

As some of you may know, I was going to novelize Easy Money, but that changed when I got the offer to change it into a comic book. In the process of writing the scripts for the issues, I’ve been able to implement the ideas I had for novelizing the story. So, in a way, I already am novelizing Easy Money.

Some of you may also know that I started writing a fantasy book set in a late 1800′s setting complete with steam power and magic. One of the major themes/conflicts of that is magic (the natural world) vs technology (the man-made world).

Others may be more familiar with The Linden Tree, my serialized novel. The Linden Tree has kind of lost steam over the past months, but I have been coming up with ideas to make it into a proper novel.

Lastly, many of you have fallen in love with Hannah Anne (as I have). It wasn’t much of a jump for me to know that Hannah deserves her own book.

So, I put the question and onus on you, my dear readers. Which book would you most want to read? The 1800′s Fantasy? The Linden Tree? Hannah Anne? It doesn’t matter if these are books you would or wouldn’t typically read. Which sounds most interesting to you?

Once you decide, head on over to the Sinistral Scribblings Facebook Page and cast your vote! I set up a poll over there and stuck it to the top so that it won’t get buried.

The poll will stay open for about two weeks. That’ll give you time to think about it and me some time to finish writing issue two of Easy Money.

Thanks for you time, input and support! You guys are the best fans a non-published writer could have!

 

PythagoraSwitch

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Walking the Line in Chicago, by John Rizzuto

You could see the man with the uncombed brown hair and the wrinkled khakis at the same street corner every day for two years. At 1 o’clock on Monday, he ate a peanut butter sandwich, at 2 o’clock Tuesday he had a doughnut, and the rest of the week he smoked a cigarette at 3:14. He always stayed on the corner until 4:20 at which point he would sigh loudly, slump his shoulders and shuffle away up Second Street.

He was there every day of the year, no matter the weather and was once featured on the local evening news, though when a reporter asked him some questions, he ignored the woman with the microphone and went about his routine.

From time to time, people said they saw him in other places around town, exhibiting much of the same strange behavior, though those stories were always second or third hand. No one knew his name, where he lived, if he had a job, where he bought groceries. Nobody knew him. He never talked to anyone, never deviated from his routine. In fact, he did not seem to realize that there was an entire world around him.

Children made fun of him, as children do. The teens were the worst. They called him names, shouted jeers at him, and once, about six months ago, a group of high school kids pushed him down. The man got back up, picked up his doughnut, and took a bite. Tommy Mason, the school’s quarterback, knocked the doughnut out of his hand and into the street, which caused the teens to begin a whole new take on their name calling. That was the only day the man deviated from his routine. When Tommy knocked the doughnut away, then man just turned and left, shuffling up Second Street. The high schoolers followed for a bit, but a patrol car came by and they gave up their taunting.

It all ended last week when the most extraordinary thing happened.

It was Wednesday afternoon and the man was smoking a cigarette looking around despondently. He then did something he had never done before. Rather than drop his cigarette at his feet and crush it out, he flicked it into the face of a passing bicyclist. The woman on the bicycle lost control, swerving into a newspaper box, knocking it over. The box crashed open, spilling newspapers at the feet of a father and son who were walking along the sidewalk eating ice cream cones. They both tripped on the newspapers, sending the ice cream to the sidewalk a few feet in front of them. A stray dog burst from an alley, running towards the ruined ice cream, and as it did so, it bumped a trash can that fell into the leg of a fruit stand. The fruit stand toppled over, spilling various apples onto the sidewalk and out into the street. The vendor at the hot dog cart slipped on the apples, jostling his cart. The wheel chuck popped out and the cart rumbled into the street directly into the path of an oncoming SUV whose driver was talking on their cell. The driver hadn’t seen the old man crossing the street he was about to hit, but he did see the hot dog cart and slammed down on his brakes, stopping just in time. Cart and old man were safe, and the strange, impromptu Rube Goldberg machine ended.

The man with the uncombed brown hair and the wrinkled khakis glanced at me and smiled sheepishly. Pointing to a bizarre looking watch on his wrist he said, “The Switch is two years off. I suppose I should have it looked at.” Turning, he shuffled away up Second Street.

For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Carrie gave me this prompt: You could see the man with the uncombed brown hair and the wrinkled khakis at the same street corner every day for two years. At 1 o’clock on Monday, he ate a peanut butter sandwich, at 2 o’clock Tuesday he had a doughnut, and the rest of the week he had.

I gave Diane this prompt: If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything. ~Mark Twain

UPDATE: The actual prompt I got was, “You could see the man with the uncombed brown hair and the wrinkled khakis at the same street corner every day for two years. At 1 o’clock on Monday, he ate a peanut butter sandwich, at 2 o’clock Tuesday he had a doughnut, and the rest of the week he had a vegetable of one kind or another at exactly 3:15. It never seemed like he ate enough to sustain himself, which may be why he hasn’t been seen for over a month.”

The email I received cut it short. Obviously, if I had gotten the whole thing, my story would have been much different.