The One with Brett Favre

First and foremost, I love the Packers. They're my oldest and deepest passion. 15 years of unwavering devotion. I don't miss a game without good reason. I bleed green and yellow. I have been many places in the world, but my heart has always been in Green Bay.

Last year, when the controversy with Brett Favre started, I was a mix of emotions. From the beginning of my loyalty, Favre was THE quarterback. In 16 years, I had never seen anyone else start under center. When I first heard the news that Favre was retiring, I was gloomy all day. I watched the teary eyed press conference, and I believed him when he said that this was the end. The legend, my 8-year old hero, the iron man, was gone. And although my heart was aching, and my mood was solemn, the healing process had begun.

Just a few days before pre-season started, news reports started filing in that Favre wanted to come back. He was going to play. As Favre began meetings with McCarthy and Wolf, I anxiously awaited to hear what was going to happen. And then it happened. The Jets trade. My initial reaction of disbelief and shock lasted most of the day. Even though he waited till just before pre-season, and gave no warning any of the 5 months prior, I really believed that Favre would be back for at least another year.

But it was not meant to be. In discussions with McCarthy and Wolf, something didn't click. For reasons I don't think we will ever really know, Favre would no longer be a Packer. I was sad to see him go, but I hoped Jet Favre would be happy with the Bretts.

As the season wore on, I rooted just as fervently for the Packers as I always have, but still wanted Favre to do well. Neither team had a very spectacular season, and I assumed the drama was over. But alas, Brett Favre retirement watch will probably soon surpass baseball as the nations favorite past time.

I am grateful to Brett Favre for a lot of things. As a Packer, he never missed a game. Won a superbowl. Won three consecutive MVP's. Threw more touchdowns, more completions, more yards and won more games than any other player in the history of the sport. I haven't forgotten. Nor will I. And I don't think a football fan out there will.

However, there is no team I like less than the Vikings. And as long as Brett Favre is wearing Purple, he is the same as any other player on that team. I don't want him dead, but I surely don't want him to win a single game. When the Brett Favre saga is over, he will be remembered as a legend should be. As the Iron Man. As a Super Bowl Champion. As an MVP. As a record breaker. As a Hall of Famer. As a Packer. But until then, he has the unfortunate title of "viking," and I've never loved the Packers more.

Brett Favre's come and go, but the Packers are for life. Go Pack Go!

The One With the Offspring

Finish work saturday night. Come home and shave. Decide to leave mutton chops. Run over to apartment 6312 to show off mutton chops. Sleep.

Wake up at 9:15. Shower while listening to "Hammerhead" and "Keep 'Em Seperated." Wake up Tee Bob. Run to Giant Eagle to buy Pepto Bismol for Page. Wait for Tee Bob to clean out his car. Drink a Vault. Leave at 11.

Stop to eat at Arbys. Arby's is closed. Page finds sign that explains which employees have been there and why they didn't open the store. We add to the note and go to BK lounge instead. Flirt with attractive manager at BK. Hit the road.

Get to Cleveland. Go to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Be reminded how awesome music is. Get hungry. Find an Irish Pub. Order Fish and Chips. Listen to Dropkick Murphy's while enjoying Fish and Chips. Get pre-concert butterflies. Get to concert. Chug a vault.

Make fun of people wearing the shirt of the band who is playing. Dance to opening band Time Again with Page and one other dude. Everyone looks at us weird because we are dancing to music. Ready Meet "the little ones." Dropkick comes out and things go wild. Sweat everywhere. Adrenaline is pumping. Dropkick finishes, and more butterflies come. Start rocking out to the B-52's and Lou Bega while waiting for the offspring. Page makes fun of people smoking weed. Flirt with a girl or two during Mambo number 5. We are the only people dancing.

The Offspring come out and a new wave of adrenaline comes. Head is rocking, body is thrashing. Someone's hand knocks of glasses. Slow motion. Try to grab them. They fall and are crushed by thousands of feet. Oh well, now is time for rocking. Go insane. An hour and a half of jumping, hand throwing, head bashing, crowd surfing, body sweating, air bassing, screaming till your throat hurts awesomeness. The Offspring leave the stage. Then come back after much chanting and cries for an encore.

"Hammerhead" comes on. Third wave of adrenaline comes. Going so insane that everything becomes a blurr. End up near girls from earlier. Finish hammerhead with much air drumming with attractive girl. "I want you bad" comes on. Singing along with attractive girl and her attractive friends. Get some numbers. Rock, Rock and Rock.

Post-concert high. Stop at Denny's on the way home. Drink a milkshake. Sleep in the car. Wake up at the Ohio-Pennsylvania border. Tee Bob's tire pops. Call Devin. Wait. Call Devin. Wait. Call Devin. Wait. Devin picks us up. Get home. Sleep.

The One With a Pink Baseball Glove

My days are spent waiting around for jobs. The thing I hate about my job is also the thing I love. I have a lot of free time to do nothing. Being on call is very limiting. You never know how long you will have to wait for a job. Going to a movie, a museum, the zoo, etc. simply isn't economical. It costs too much, and you could be called to a job after only ten minutes.

And so, my days are spent waiting at parks, finding ways to pass the time. If i'm by myself, I read. I just finished re-reading the deathly hallows, and I am now moving on to Eragon. I anticipate that my collection of books will grow exponentially over the summer. But that's a good thing.


About a week and a half ago, Ross and Carly drove back to Tucson to pick up a few things. Their two dogs, a bunch of movies, and a couple baseball gloves (with a bat) to name a few. Seeing how much time we spend at parks, I decided a baseball glove would be an intelligent investment. It's been a long time since I bought a glove. I never played little league when I was a kid, and I've never really been able to get into baseball. Maybe it's because it's just not interesting on tv. Maybe it's because the Packers don't play baseball. Maybe it's because during the summer, I don't really want to watch tv. Regardless, Ryon loves football, not baseball. In buying a mitt, I had to buy something that said "I obviously don't care about this, but I enjoy a good game of catch." And that's when I saw the pink glove. I knew it was for me. Aerosmith seemed to be shouting at me, "Pink! It's my favorite color..."

The One Where Ryon Flies Home

This past week I had the opportunity to fly home for my mom's graduation and realize a few things.

- I am way proud of my mom. She hadn't been in school for nearly twenty five years, and she still made it through. I know I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for her, and I love the fact that even though I am gone she is still doing great things.

- People don't change. I guess that's not exactly what I mean. People do change, but connections we have forged in the past endure. I've known this for quite a while, but I was fortunate enough to be able to spend a bit of time with a couple people I haven't seen in nearly three years. A lunch with Edson Estrada and a retreat with Brian Bean reminded me that as much as we grow and change as individuals, we are still inextricably linked to who we were, and how we came to be who we are.

- I miss my Idaho Summer. There is so much to do when you are surrounded by people you love and the weather is beautiful. Something Pittsburgh will not be able to offer. I need to buy a good pack, spend a summer hiking around Idaho, then head off to the rest of the U.S., Canada, and hopefully Europe and Africa. I feel a plan coming on....

- Blogging isn't so bad. I'm still not quite happy with my writing, but it is helping. Maybe in a couple months I won't even have to think about it anymore.

"I count myself in nothing else so lucky than in a sould remembering my good friends." ~Shakespeare

The One Where Ryon Gets Stuck in Traffic

This past week, I've had the unfortunate opportunity to get stuck in the middle of downtown Pittsburgh. Navigating a large city is ridiculously difficult, and I even have a GPS. To avoid getting pissed off and becoming the angry Baltimore driver of a year ago, I force myself to look around and appreciate what humans have been able to do with such little space.

Big buildings fascinate me. There is just something beautiful about the predictability and practicality of the skyscraper. So much is done with little space. Skyscrapers are like the collective middle fingers of humanity, telling mother nature where she can shove it.

The best part of being in Pittsburgh in May: hockey playoffs. The penguins are in, and doing quite well. Two games ago, I went to three different houses, and every single one of them had the pens game on. All this hockey mania is turning me into a fan. Go Pens!

And hockey is precisely the reason I get stuck in traffic and have so much time to contemplate the beauty of a manmade city. The pens win. 80,000 people leave the stadium at the same time. And I happen to get stuck somewhere in the middle of it. But hey, at least the pens won. :-)

The first one

*sigh* A new beginning. My previous attempts at blogging have been dissapointing at best. This is largely due to the fact that I am never quite satisfied with my writing. I read it. Re-read it. And re-re-read it. It just never sounds right to me. However, I've made a personal goal to myself to not only be happier with my writing, but with my life in general. The solution? Blogging.

This is where it starts. The ramblings of a twenty-something drudging his own little path through life. The time is now.

And who knows, maybe i'll be able to influence....dozens of people.