Dear ESPN, i apologize.

i will try from this point on, to refrain from my nasty comments about your programming and announcers (well, maybe just an itty bit). i am, at 82, a true, bona fide, no fooling curmudgeon. i finally realized my whining is useless. You, nor the general public will agree with me. i should not disparage what i don’t understand. i will try to be better, to fit in…no, not fit in: i will always be a pocket of resistance, a seeker of truth, a believer in common sense.

You see, once upon a time, in a place faraway, i was a sports writer and then sports editor. Albeit a short time, i think it gave me a perspective most folks don’t have, and you certainly have not displayed my perception of “sports” since your inception in 1979 and the early days when you focused your athletic events on many off the beaten path — Man, i loved watching Australian football.

i wish i could start a sports journal or a sports section is a good local newspaper somewhere (are there any truly “local” papers anymore?). — Hah, what kind of punctuation is that? Oh, it’s jim jewell punctuation…if he doesn’t edit it out.

This sports section/journal would be about sports. There would be no discussion of the moral turpitude of the players or the coaches. It would contain no mention of contracts, money, politics, and most of all betting and the odds. It would not go into the opinions about officiating good or bad. It would not suggest changing the rules to attract audiences or fit into the money making schemes.

It wouldn’t address the greed that has changed sport. The change in games because of required commercials lasting three times longer or more while the athletes in every sport twiddle their thumbs or listen to their spout intricate tactics hardly ever quite executed as planned.

it wouldn’t chastise the sports moguls for extending seasons beyond the safe zone for the athletes in order to gain more money with more games. Today, Sunday, January 25th, there were two games played in the NFL. One the AFC championship game in Denver in a snow storm. It was stupid football. Had it been played in New England, it would have been worse.

It will not even chastise the interference and control of coaches in the contests rather than let the athletes…you know, the ones on the field actually “playing” to make decisions in the “game.”

This “Sports” section/journal would not spend time disecting the chicanery and bribery involved in the NCAA’s “Name, Image, and Likeness (NIL) and transfer portals. And it certainly wouldn’t include stories about youngsters as young as four or five being trained to be career athlete at the expense of having a childhood.

And on and on and on.

But this dream of mine would report upon the beauty of sports, all sports; the thrill of victory, the agony of defeat; the phenomenal plays, the incredible physical ability of the players

It’s just a dream, and like Bill Veeck knew, if it became a reality, it would be bankrupt in about two months.

After all, it’s now all about money; it is not about sport or sportsmanship. It’s entertainment.

i think i’m going back to play mumblety-peg.

Two days after my 82nd birthday, i sit with my thoughts after a quiet day pursuing home tasks to complete. Today, was marvelous.

My favorite and most emotional moment came when my grandson, Sam Gander, sent me a text that would make any grandparent tear up. Talking to my two daughters, one in Las Vegas, one in Austin, Texas were real close to Sam’s text in my emotional moments.

A call from my Vandy running mate, Cy Fraser, from Orcas Island, Washington in the San Juan Islands took me back to wonderful times both back in Old Hickory, Nashville, and Lebanon, but our times together since then.

The birthday wishes on Facebook moved me enough to try and thank folks personally rather than sent out a generic thanks. i may have done just that but suspect i may have missed a few while i wrestled with the electronic world.

Maureen and i celebrated on the eve of the birthday. We went to the San Diego Symphony and had a light dinner afterward.

The San Diego Symphony presented Johannes Brahm’s Piano Concerto, No. 1 in D Minor, Opus 15, and Anton Dvorak’s Symphony #7 in D Minor.

Since Mrs. Gwaltney taught me piano for a couple of years, which i gave up after the eighth grade because i was devoted to football. i did go to Peabody College and participate in a recital, playing a classical piece i do not recall. i have been intrigued but not involved with classical music since then. Cy Fraser introduced me to Handel’s “Water Music” and Dvořák’s 9th , “The New World” Symphony while we were at Vanderbilt. They since have been constantly on my play lists, and i keep adding new found ones i enjoy. The two we heard on Sunday have been added.

While listening, i looked about the impressive hall. It was full, nearly all attendees were old, but there were younger folks in the audience. i wore a sports coat but chose not to wear a tie. It didn’t matter. All manner of dress, both men and women, were on display. There was one guy in tee shirt, Bermuda shorts, flip flops, and a baseball cap. i saw several in tuxedos.

Style of dress did not seem to make a difference. .

When the music begin to play, it was, as they say, quiet as a mouse. i compared the silence while the orchestra performed to what was going on in most of the television sets in the country: the NFL playoffs.

None of the symphony attendees were screaming, making weird gestures, and contorting faces. Of course, there were no visible cameras to egg them on. None were booing the the referees, the other team, nor their own team when they played poorly. Of course, the only team was the symphony orchestra, and there were no refs. No one in the orchestra made a play and then self-promoted with silly dances.

Since i was a sports reporter and editor, i’ve always wanted to watch a sports event where no one screamed, made an idiot of themselves, nor booed as if they expected to impact the outcome. That doesn’t happen.

Sitting there on Sunday, i was entranced by the complexity of the music and the flawless coordination of all of the musicians, especially the incredible pianist, Marc-Andrè Hamelin, the guest conductor, Thomas Guggies, and the orchestra.

If you have never been to a symphony performance, i suggest you try it if you can. i think you would enjoy it. And i am sure you would not get hoarse from screaming while listening.

Even at this age, i just keep learning.

i have learned to live with maladies, injuries, and possible improvements and cures. i’ve learned how lucky i am to have avoided any serious ones up until this past year.

In regard to those maladies, i have confirmed that Preventive Maintenance as i learned it in the Navy on my first ship and practiced until the last ship serves one well if they practice it in their personal health.

i have learned that politics is nasty, that those in the field spend more time getting reelected and hating the opposition than serving the people.

i have learned there are lots of people, smart, good people even, who will believe anything if it makes them feel good about what they already believe, and hate, not understanding is the major factor for disregarding truth, and that hate is driven in turn by fear.

i have learned that every group of people regardless of how they are grouped are the same. Those groups have good, well-intended people who are concerned with the welfare of all the group. Those groups have people just trying to make a living and not make waves. They all have scoundrels with no concern about others who will stoop to the lowest level of the human kind to get what they want. In fact, nearly all groupings are mirrored by the others.

i have learned that “easier” is not the path to happiness and satisfaction, that hard work is satisfying, and doing a job well can give one a feeling of accomplishment, regardless of the complexity or difficulty.

I have learned that college and professional sports are no longer “sports.” They are now careers in the entertainment business. i still watch to see great athletes perform, but i’m now limiting my watching to teams that are my favorites. i do this with a sense of humor when fans frothing at the mouth do really stupid things to be on the screen, and when commercials are stupid, which is most of the time. i don’t laugh at sports announcers or many supposedly sports media experts: i cry.

i have learned that “dressing up” for occasions, even just a dining out with my wife or friends makes me feel good about myself. i try to follow Dave Carey’s dictum of dressing up one level from the group with whom you are meeting is a good practice. (Apparently, this is not the case with anyone two decades younger than me, and i do not fault them.)

i have learned that treating folks as equals, dealing with them truthfully, and not trying to impress one’s own beliefs upon them can produce wonders.

i have learned that younger folks treat older folks differently. i am a “has been,” and my thoughts are viewed as antiquated, not in touch. There is a touch of respect and understanding, even caring, but they won’t listen to what i have to say.

i have learned that my memories are precious and a fuel to keep on living as best i can.

i have learned that living has no right answer. If you have your right answer, it won’t be the right answer for others. Compatability of right answers are as good as it’s going to get.

i have learned to consider all of the possible risks and benefits of whatever decision is facing me before making a decision, any decision. This should be done with the knowledge that even that may not bring about the results i desire.

i have learned i should live attempting to do what’s right. Often that is the toughest of the choices.

And i have learned that my friends, regardless of political, religious, financial beliefs are a treasure to me, and i appreciate them all.

So, today, i wish all of you the best on my happy 82nd birthday. We’ve got several more left, i think, but i still hope all of you outlast me…and i hope to live as long as my father, one month shy of 99, and my mother, one month shy of 97.

Monday, Maureen and i played a round of golf with our great friends, Peter and Nancy Toennies.

The four of us have played an incredible number of rounds together. It was a better round for me than in the last six months or more. However, that was not the most enjoyable part of the afternoon. The highlight was the Southwest corner.

We played at the Sea ‘n Air Golf course on the North Island Naval Air Station. It was magic: mid-January, 67 degrees, the old lighthouse atop Point Loma across the channel silhouetted against the sky. The channel led to the number one sea buoy, that last navigational manmade marker to my Pacific, my sea. Navy aircraft were performing touch-and-gos on the adjacent landing fields. To top it off, the snack shop next to the 9th fairway and 12th green had resumed stocking Budweiser beer.

Budweiser has always been my beer of choice on a golf course. For some reason, a cold Budweiser remains my favorite when playing a round. i drink and have drunk other beers since college, but Bud is it while playing golf.

When the round concluded, we drove off the base and to the Brigantine for supper. The Coronado Brig, the original location before it expanded, has been one of my favorite hangouts since i first came to San Diego in the 1970s. It has changed greatly.

i preferred its old atmospher booths winding around the place, a bar famous for their margaritas, and a great menu. JD Waits and i, while we were rogue bachelors and Naval officers, would go on Thursdays. We would have a margarita at the bar while waiting for our table. We would have their grilled salmon with Hollandaise sauce with the house Chardonnay, and finish with a a courvoisier. Splendid.

It is still good food, just different and not as good as in my memories.

Just a flat wonderful January day in the Southwest corner. i marvel that so many folks i know disaparage where i live because i love it, and my dearest lady is a native.

♦︎♦︎♦︎

The old boy has found someone who agrees with me about sports media, the sports journalists, and their audience: Aaron Rodgers. As the Pittsburgh fans booed and lambasted Mike Tomlin, who stepped down after the ranting, Rodgers stated:

Mike T’s had more success than damn near anyone in the league for the last 19-20 years,” Rodgers said. “More than that, though, when you have the right guy and the culture is right, you don’t think about making a change. But, there’s a lot of pressure that comes from the outside, and obviously, that swings decisions from time to time. But it’s not how I would do things, and not how the league used to be.

My thought when i read this were we are being controlled by people who think they know how to make things right when they don’t have a clue. The amazing thing to me is there are so many people who buy into it.

♦︎♦︎♦︎

So, i concluded, i have no desire to deal with this craziness, this hunt for hatred, this mockery of understanding and open-mindedness. For whom this applies, throw your rocks, froth at the mouth with your hatred, continue to blindly blame everyone else for what you don’t like. i’m too old for that sh…

My life, a week from 82, is wonderful (i’ll go into that later, in spades). i’ll just keep caring for folks and enjoying my life.

The morning of the first day of the year is gone most places across the states with about an hour left in the Southwest Corner. It is dreary here. Rain in the Southwest corner.

i have the black-eyed peas cooking on the range. i’ll make the cornbread with a small piece of cornpone for me later this afternoon. i had wonderful blueberry pancakes courtesy of Maureen this morning. i forgot to cook my Tennessee Pride Sausage and went without. i have just finished my third and last cup of coffee.

New records from Blythe have been played along with Roy Orbison’s “Greatest Hits” and “The Freewheeling Bob Dylan,” his second album and the one that put him on the road to success. i heard an Orbison song in August 1959 when John Sweatt took Earl Major, Jimmy Hatcher, Jimmy Gamble, and me to Johnson’s Dairy. It was between the two-a-day practices for Heights football. i had lost 10 pounds in the morning practice — this was back when you were a wimp if you drank water during practice and took salt tablets before practice. We each got a half gallon of Johnson’s orange drink. it was all gone before we got back to the campus. i had regained the lost weight before the afternoon round. After that practice, i had lost another 15 pounds.

Note: i almost cried when i wrote this. All the others in that car ride have crossed over that bridge. They all were just flat super people. We were close, townboys at a predominately boarding prep school.

Today, i have added a few LP Albums to my spreadsheet. i actually might complete the cataloguing this year. i estimate there will be about 800 of them. Several came from Maureen, a number from her father including what must be all of Carmen Cavallero’s albums, and quite a few from Keith Macumber who gave them to me when he and his wife Becky decided to live the rest of his life on the road in a “recreatation vehicle — I wonder how many folks nowadays would know what “RV” stands for (oops, ending the note with a preposition). Sadly, Keith crossed that bridge several years ago. Good man.

i’ve added several photos to my ten or so “History Notebooks.” Photos, slides, documents, newspaper clippings, and other memorabilia are included. i’m not sure i actually will finish this project. That stuff is everywhere.

As it moves toward noon, it occurs to me i have not watched any football or basketball today. And i think about years past when football occupied this first day. Sugar Bowl, Cotton Bowl, Rose Bowl, and Orange Bowl, preceded by the Gator Bowl on New Year’s Eve. That was it. Now, there is a glut and they mean little, even the playoffs, which undoubtedly will prove the champion is not really the champion, just bragging rights for the winner and a topic which will be slobbered to death by the talking heads.

But oh, those New Year’s Bowl parties. My favorites were at 911 South Main in Paris, Texas. My previous in-laws, Col. Jimmy Lynch and Bettie Lynch threw the party. They probably had 60 or so people wandering through the house at those parties.

Televisions were set up in separate rooms with a theme for the game that would be on that TV. The dining room TV had a bowl of cotton balls sitting on top. The living room TV had a bowl of oranges on top. The Sugar Bowl TV was in the opposite corner of the living room and had a bowl of sugar on top. The Rose Bowl TV was in the breakfast room and boasted of an urn filled with red roses.

Food and drink, especially drink, was more than plentiful. They put a two-foot circle of cheddar cheese sent from Wisconsin. They had finger sandwiches, full sandwiches, barbecue, hot dogs, chips and dips everywhere of every kind.

Drinks began with bloody marys. The Colonel, a.k.a. “The Alligator,” was proud of his bloody marys. The bar in the kitchen contained every type of liquor with beer and wine aplenty.

It was great fun, the type that we don’t have anymore because the games have grown into spectacles with nearly all in poorly attended stadiums and are spread out over a month. Sad.

Yesterday, we had no intention of bringing in the New Year. Maureen went to bed just before the ball fell in NYC. i stayed up for another hour but kept falling asleep, finally surrendering and hitting the rack myself.

i recalled one about twenty years ago. Danny Boggs, Maureen’s brother, gave us a round of golf and the New Year Eve’s party at Singing Hills out in El Cajon. The golf was fun. We quickly changed into our party dress and tux and went to the dining room. The only seats available was a table with eight older folks who came together every year. They were delightful.

The band was almost as old as the folks at our table. They played oldies, and i mean old, big band stuff. Maureen and i danced and laughed. And when the clock struck midnight, the band played “Auld Lang Syne” like they were Guy Lombardo. In the middle of the dance floor, Maureen and i kissed. It was a great night.

Change doesn’t stop. It seems the parties are bigger, longer, and louder. The fireworks are more plentiful, louder, and more spectacular. People obviously enjoy them. But i have changed as well. i don’t need to be entertained anymore, i just want to enjoy whatever it is. i will likely watch a bowl game tonight or one of our favorite movies. And i am with that lovely woman who shared a kiss with me long ago and this morning., We will soon have blackeyed peas, cornbread, and a glass of champagne (after all, we didn’t come close to drinking all of that bottle last night.

May all of you have a healthy and successful 2026, have fun, and accept change gracefully.