You don't know me

 

The only things I see today that are bitter

I read the tweets today, oh boy.

Quite the world we live in. Just constant virtiol.

I'd love more kindness.

I had to laugh at some of what I was reading -- not just on Twitter but elsewhere. It just feels like all we want to do is fight.

I could literally say, "That blue shirt isn't my style but I hope it does well," and have people screaming, "HE HATES THE BLUE SHIRT."

It's the dumbest example but it works for me.

And, thus, I mostly shut up more than you realize. You try to say something fair and supportive and still get excoriated.

I keep reading tweets about "bitterness" over last night's ESPN broadcast. Funny thing is, I've seen 99% positive remarks. In fact, I just tweeted my own congratulations. 

I'd like to see opportunities like this go to all who deserve it, including those who might not be able to afford it, but that's for another time.

But I like seeing people make it -- especially people I know. I want them to succeed. I like seeing those who have worked their tails off and deserve opportunities have those doors open. I detest entitlement and disrespect. 

Earning my wrath is achieved when you're obnoxious and disrespect this business, especially when you make it all about you.

Otherwise, count me in the "I knew them when" department. It's part of why I teach and pay it forward. Ask around. Start with Matt Hamilton or Jake Zimmer of Dan Gardella. Keep asking. There are others. Others who have basically broken themselves to go to CSB who send me audio and ask for advice and I literally never say no.

It's why I shout out a lot of people, such as Colby Smith, a young broadcaster from Oneonta, NY who I mentioned the other night.

It's why I push for my friends to work with me in the booth, even if it's not going to work out with the Gades this year (though it's not too late).

I love teaching this stuff. I love passing stories and knowledge along. It's 31 years of chaos for me on Sept 2.

It's amazing how people think they have you -- me -- figured out. The truth is, I'm not difficult if you get sort of past my walls. At least I don't think I am. 

Try getting to know me. Understand me. Then? Have at it.

But when I read such passive-aggressive things, well, then it's obvious to me that it's not me.

It's you.

*****

Twelve years ago the world met a little boy named Gabriel. We lost him not long after he arrived and the pain is more palpable now than it was then. He was the son of my niece and her husband. I was in shock. I honestly couldn't process it.  I still can't. 

I hope he's smiling and playing somewhere.

Be kind to each other, at least for Gabriel.