Saturday coffee.
We had our coffee at Letezia’s before the rain came. Good rain. The garden in the back can use a good soaking.
There a lot that has been shitty in the world this week. But this morning I feel good.
My colleague, the PE teacher, ran the Sunburst Marathon in South Bend this morning. The 4th grade teacher who went with him (who also runs, but decided he would do the half marathon today) just posted on Facebook that the PE teacher did well enough to qualify for the Boston marathon.
Plus, the school year is winding down. Three kid days left. Then a records/planning day. Then the kids come in on Friday to pick up their report cards. 30 minutes later they are out the door. The fifth graders gone for good, which is (most years and this year for sure) bittersweet.
John Wooden.
Growing up in L.A. in the sixties, there was no shortage of sports heroes. The Dodgers boasted Sandy Koufax, Don Drysdale and Duke Snyder among others. The Lakers had the great Elgin Baylor, Jerry West, and later, Wilt Chamberlain. UCLA basketball featured Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Gail Goodrich and Henry Bibby.
But perhaps the dominant sports figure was not a player, but a teacher and a coach. Coach John Wooden died yesterday at the age of 99.
The perfect game.
A lot of people are rethinking the lesson of the missed call at first.
I like this one from Dave Zirin.
The incredible class and calm Galarraga has shown is an ideal of a word that has
