What these three chuckleheads did on their show Monday morning for the 790 The Zone station was outrageous, unprofessional, and most certainly fireable.
The above quote about sums it up.
I haven’t listened to the clip because, frankly, the entire situation is sickening.
It’s 11:41 p.m on a Monday night and a crazy thought just ran through my head. No, it wasn’t that I only have 3 more classes left in my college career. And no it isn’t that in less then two weeks I will be a college graduate. I sat here in my bed thinking that I will actually to drive away from this place I have called home for the past four years.
When I left Atlanta four years ago, I knew I wanted a serious change. I didn’t want that huge school down south where so many of my friends chose to go. I knew I wanted to be known as a person, not just an ID number. Bonaventure has given me just that.
People call this place the “Bona Bubble” and I am starting to understand why. When I’m not here, something just doesn’t feel right. A part of me always wants to be here experiencing a snow storm in April or a Friday night at the Burton. It’s crazy to think I won’t be returning in the heat of August for a dreaded preseason or participating in a HouseCrawl with some of the worst drinks I have ever tasted. I hate the fact that I won’t just be able to walk into the Hickey and always have someone to sit with. To those who went to a big school this may be hard to explain. For those of us who have been here, we know that it is these little things that have brought us together.
I had no idea that leaving a family could be so hard. I have been blessed with some of the best friends a person could have. They have been here for me during the good, the bad and everything inbetween. While I know we will stay in touch, it won’t ever be the same that it has been here. I truely love each and everyone of you and I am so thankful to have you in my life. Not only have I made great friends but I have two professors who I have the utmost respect for. They have been a huge part of my college career and have almost played the role of parents while here. Dr. Denny Wilkins and Carole McNall, I can not thank you enough. I will carry the lessons that each of you have taught me very far in life.
To each person at this school who has given me a chance and allowed me to grow, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Bonaventure is a very unique and special place that will have a spot in my heart until the day that I die.
In two weeks, I will make the long trek back to Atlanta. I will drive over that bridge one more time with the sun shining and Bonaventure in my rear view mirror. As this thought is going through my head, I am wiping tears from my eyes, just as I know I will be doing the whole way home. This place is my home and these people are my family. A piece of my heart will break as I turn onto the highway.
Time will move on the pain will eventually go away. The memories I have made here will last me the rest of my life. Thank you, St. Bonaventure. You will always have a proud Bonnie for life.
Thought of the night: People are never who they seem to be. We are our own worst enemies. Ours minds can play a tricky, tricky game. What we are on the outside is never who we are on in inside, good or bad.
For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again.” -F. Scott Fitzgerald
I remember my first team. The Pink Panthers. At four years old, we had no clue what we were doing. We ran around like the crazy kids that we were and tried to kick the small ball into the net. We had no positions and not a care in the world. Never could I have imagined that kicking a ball in the back of a net could have influenced my life to the extent that it has.
I knew from a young age that ballet was not for me. I hated ribbons and bows and didn’t like all the rules. My Mom tells me she signed me up for soccer so that I could meet friends. I lived for those Saturday mornings that my Dad would take me to Laurel Park for our weekly game. There were no practices, just kids having fun. I fell in love with the game. I’m not sure if it was the rush I got from scoring or taking the ball away from someone on the other team or maybe it was combination of both. I just knew that I wanted to keep playing this game.
Be sure to pick up this weeks edition of SI with Chipper featuring.
I’ve had a lot of failings, as a ballplayer, as a father, as a husband. I married at 20 the first time, too young, but I didn’t know that then. I’m getting divorced now from my second wife, and I will never, ever, get married again. But I honestly wouldn’t change a thing. I believe everything happens for a reason. My four kids, three with my second wife, are athletic, smart, fun, still young. I’ve been a part-time father. Now, come October, I’m going to be a full-time father, like my father was to me. I’m going to teach Shea to bat switch. He’s eight. It’s time. I’m saying goodbye without a tear in my eye. I gave it my all.
This man is a legend. #10 will be missed. Class act all the way around.
”There ain’t nothing like a memory when it’s coming on strong like a hurricane”
The cool air is creeping in and the leaves are starting to change colors. Yes, the fall season has arrived. The excitement of being back on campus is starting to wear off and the stress of senior year and all it entails has suddenly overwhelmed me. I feel like just yesterday I was starting my freshman year of high school. How in the world am I about to be twenty-two and a college graduate? Over the past few weeks I have been flooded with memories from my past that have helped shape the person I have become.
This past weekend, the St. Bonaventure Women’s Soccer team traveled to Long Island, NY, to play Hofstra University. I was especially excited when I saw this game on our schedule. You see, Long Island has always had a special place in my heart. Long Island is the place where my mom grew up. Up until a few years ago, the majority of my family still lived there. My grandparents raised my mom and her four siblings in a beautiful wooden- shingled, converted cape house on Fraiser Avenue. I loved everything about that house. When my mom got married and had kids, she wanted us to experience the same type of childhood she had.
The house on Fraiser Avenue houses some of my best childhood memories. I remember playing wiffle ball with my grandpa, or known to me as Stinka. He would play out in the grassy backyard for hours with us, usually at night after dinner to make sure that we would sleep well that night. My Nana would take us down to the cabana on Jones Beach. My brother would spend all day burying toy soldiers in the sand and then trying to find them all. I opted for the bouncy animals and sandcastles. I loved the nights when all the family would come over to my grandparents house and we would have a big cookout and play games and laugh. I went to countless Christmas Eve masses at Sacred Heart parish and prayed that we would have a white Christmas. It was the only time in my life where I ever really understood how enjoyable the simple things could be. As I drove around the Island in our Covered Wagon tour bus, the memories of that place kept flooding back to me.
Not all memories are happy and enjoyable. The house on Fraiser Avenue and Long Island forever changed on September 11, 2001. Katie was my moms youngest sister. She was a lively, charismatic woman whose laugh and smile were infectious. She was the life of the party and people always wanted to be around her. At just thirty years old, her life was taken too soon in the tragic attacks on 9/11. My favorite memory of her was how beautiful she looked on her wedding day just five months earlier. Katie always had a way of making me feel special. I looked up to her so much. After her death, every-time we traveled to Merrick, the house always felt empty and dark. While my grandfather did everything in his power to keep the family strong, it wasn’t long until my family slowly moved away from Long Island.
I found myself looking back at all the places around Long Island and thinking back at all the great times I had there. I didn’t realize how much this was all affecting me until we drove past the cemetery where my grandfather and Katie are buried. As the tears welled up in my eyes, I knew that they would both be so proud of the person I have become today. So many have told me that I am a spitting image of Katie. When I was younger this used to really freak me out, but now I find it flattering. There isn’t a day that I don’t think about her or that I don’t feel her with me. I have many days where I have randomly heard her wedding song on the radio or had an overwhelming scent of fresh daisies, just her little ways of letting me know she is constantly around. Like my Grandfather, Katie loved the Bonnies. Being in this little town in upstate New York just feels like it is exactly where I was meant to be.
11 years ago tonight was the last time I ever talked to my Aunt Katie. This week in September always brings a wave of emotions and of course, memories. While I allow myself a time to mourn and be sad, I have learned that each year that passes is another year to celebrate her and carry on her amazing memory. I know that Katie will always be looking over me and will never let us forget her.
“Life gives us brief moments with one another…sometimes those brief moments, we get memories that will last us a lifetime.”
Page 1 of 3