A word from "The Rocket" commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Blood Mountain Appalachian Trail Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Alone again, hiking on the Appalachian Trail (AT), adhering to my inner Thoreau, thinking thoroughly about what I was doing and whether I would summit the 4400 ft. Blood Mountain, I charged forward. Each step filled with the ambivalence of excitement and the trepidation of wandering into the unknown. Yet now, looking back to that Sunday in August, the reasons are pretty clear why I was on that mountain.  I know the secrets that cause me to saunter about consumed by the scent of nature. I've seen the treasures a day on the trails can offer, typically much more than any one day could provide in a city park.  Still, however, I wonder of this innate sense of discovery we humans have.

What compels those that hike or wander about in nature?  What drives those that seek to discover the lesser taken paths littered all around often not far from the secure confines of our households?  I often ask. But, I know the answer to my questions because I have tasted the gifts that Mother Nature has shared with me.

So that day, I set off from the suburban confines of John's Creek, Georgia,where I happen to be working as a volunteer at the 93rd PGA Championship and with only a limited amount of time; not an anomaly when it comes to time and my unplanned excursions.  Determined, I dashed off to this hiker's paradise, a trail junkie's dream--the Appalachian Trail!

Though the hike that day started fairly benignly, through canopy covered and root strewn trail, it would change to rocky outcropping and barely discernible trail markers.  It was a warm day. Other hikers could be heard occasionally, which I would take as a good sign that I was correctly navigating the trail and also giving me a sense of safety as I stepped through toward a summit called Blood. 

Signs warned hikers of Bears and other wildlife in the area, a lone whistle my only protection, a whistle (?); what was I thinking? But the urge had struck to get out into nature, and I often don't know when the urge will strike and I trample into an unknown passage, a place my eye has never seen.  Risk teasing me to discover and try its beckoning. And, usually I am unequipped to handle any adversity but today I would find no adverse conditions.

As sweat consumed my stripped golf shirt, my heart pumping at an elevated pace, I was at peace with only a thought of what would happen if I encountered something on the trail. Despite the thought, I kept going, quiet as a cat crossing a wooden floor, it was the trail and me!  It was the appreciation of the moment.  One of many moments that I've been fortunate enough to receive.  Gifts, blessings, opportunities, call them what you will but this was one of those and it was memorable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few hours later, I reached the summit of Blood Mountain.  Someone had built a shelter there for hikers that needed to catch a break or seek an evening's rest.  After inspecting the shelter, I caught a whisper of a few voices around a bend near a large boulder.  I rounded the corner to find a couple sitting admiring the panoramic view of the Appalachian Mountains.  I introduced myself and we proceeded to chat about the strange crossing of our paths.  They filled me on a little history of the trail and showed me where they lived, near the beginning of AT at Springer Mountain (a long distance from our position).  It was a chance encounter, but for those ten or so minutes, our paths crossed.  In all the paths and trails of life, I walked into their path.  We shared some experiences about how a lone hiker from California would come to cross their path....and I was off again.  Before I left, I asked them to take this picture.  I am glad I did and I am glad I met them.

Once I came down the mountain, pleased to have made it back unscathed, I drove back down to the Atlanta Athletic Club, host course of 93rd PGA Championship, and I enjoyed a relaxing day of watching golf.  I was richer for what the day had given me.  It was a day well spent...and a day my friend Thoreau would have greatly appreciated.

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

Follow Rick at:

http://www.rickrodriguez.net/

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rocket

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rodriguez_Report

 

Tiger Woods wins another tournament Commentary by Rick Rodriguez August 5, 2007

Commentary By Rick Rodriguez

In light of the recent events concerning Eldrick "Tiger" Woods, mainly he has decided to move away from the public eye and its scrutiny by not playing professional golf; I revisited the original post of "A word from the Rocket," about Tiger Woods.  In the original post below, you'll note my admiration of Woods, my reasons are pretty clear; moreover, I make a case against Barry Bonds, and his alleged transgressions.

I guess I shouldn't be disappointed in Woods, nor should I make a judgment of any of the the protagonists of my posts; however,  I offer the following reasons:  Mainly, "I am a golfer" and with that statement comes a responsibility to play the game with honor, integrity, and those values represent character.  Undoubtedly, Tiger Woods, has never been accused of "transgressions" on the golf course, but the recent revelations of character flaws attributed to Woods saddens me. It crushes my hope of a Superstar Athlete also being a man of character; a Father with integrity; a true humanitarian; a husband of commitment, and an honorable golfer.  Make no mistake Tiger Woods has reversed the heights that he had attained in each of these categories. 

The photographs featured in this post were taken by me at the JBWere Masters in Melbourne, Australia in November 2009.  Incidentally, this was Tiger's last competitive tournament and two weeks before Tiger's world began to unravel.  I was extremely privileged to be at the tournament and proud that Tiger represented America with class, style, integrity, excitement, and a great win!  Yes, I was there and now I move away from that position, from Tiger, as a fan, and admirer, and this as a GOLFER saddens me.

ANOTHER WIN FOR TIGER AUGUST 5, 2007

BY Rick Rodriguez

So, what's the big deal: Tiger wins another tournament.  Many people out there aren't so happy when Tiger wins, but I am.  Perhaps, it's because the rich just get richer, or he wins all the time argument, but I love to see any athlete dominate his craft, and Tiger does.  As a golf enthusiast, player, competitor, and a sport fan in general; I'm thrilled when Tiger wins!  There is a reason for this and it is because Tiger brings respectability to the sport world.  Not only does he win, but he's a class act and demonstrates that to fans and competitors alike. 

Contrast that with the other big sport story, Barry Bonds.  How it sickens me to see a player tie the all-time home record under the alleged (past or present) influence of performance enhancing drugs: oh yeah Barry, flaxseed oil.  His and others continued denial of alleged drug induced performances are what has drawn many people away from the three major sports: baseball, football, and to a lesser extent basketball.  Now, a revelation that an NBA ref may have had an influence on NBA games: this makes a fan (like me) wonder whether what we are witnessing is actual or influenced by outside events.  Aren't you sick of all the cheating?

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

Follow Rick at:

http://www.rickrodriguez.net/

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rocket

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rodriguez_Report

 

A lesson from the game Saint Mary's College Men's Basketball Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Through the mayhem that was the last 4:17 of the 2011 & 2012 NCAA Basketball Tournament and  Saint Mary's Men's College Basketball season, the Gaels gave us one last thrill, one last hope, that this amazing season might be extended!  The late fury resulted in the Gaels achieving their only lead of the game vs the Purdue Boilermakers 69-68 with 0:31 left in the game.  The Gaels had erased an 11-point deficit in that remaining four minutes of time.  But, alas, a win was not to be and thus the team's remarkable season came to end.

As I embraced my daughter, tears streaming down her face and mine, she said "it's okay, Dad.  We had a great season.  We win as a team and we lose as a team!"  Ah, the wisdom of an 11-year old and the lesson of the game!  We embraced another few seconds knowing that this season is gone.  We felt the loss, of our team, your team, finishing after fighting so hard.  So many moments.  So much joy.  And, finally so much pain.  Our season is over! But, we will be back and we will work to find the components needed to replace the loss of our graduating seniors. And, not soon to be forgotten, the contributions of Rob Jones, Kenton Walker III, and Clint Steindl will fortify the foundation that Randy Bennett has established here at St. Mary's!

The road to success is often paved with obstacles.  It is never easy!  And, with each success we take one step higher and our expectations do, too.  Often we take success for granted and expect more.  We recognize the end product, the winner, but often forget what it took to get there.  

This team and this program has merely arrived. For a decade plus, Randy Bennett has built an organization and program that we that call ourselves Gaels can be proud of!

It was a long hard fought season and it resulted in many accolades including a league and tournament championships for the team and our school---Saint Mary's College!  The season was filled with the thrill of victory and the pain of defeat.  But, once again, we were reminded that a small and mighty school can compete with the bigs anytime and any day!  Congratulations to this group of Gaels!  We will not forget the heart & soul you gave us this season.  We will not forget that tonight and every night of the season you left it all on the floor!

There are lessons in there somewhere even from and for an 11-year old!  GO GAELS!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

Follow Rick at:

http://www.rickrodriguez.net/

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rocket

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rodriguez_Report

Experiencing "Tigermania in Australia" Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

As I sat among the gallery at Kingston Heath Golf Club in Melbourne, Australia taking photos of then world No. 1 Tiger Woods and witnessing Tigermania and his win at the JB Were Masters, little did I know that this event would be Tiger's last official win!  And now looking back, two plus years later I wonder when the next win will come. Sure, Tiger captured his own tournament, the Chevron World Challenge, against an impressive field of 20 players in late 2011 but the tournament is not a PGA sanctioned event.  Thus, Tiger still seeks his first official PGA win since Melbourne!  

Watching Tiger Woods play golf in Australia was big for Australians and me!  It was his 1st tournament in Australia and the experience was akin to Beatlemania on the golf course!  For me, the experience gave me the very proud feeling of being American and playing golf; my affiliations with Tiger! As I watched the crowds part for Tiger; throngs of security and PGA officials following closely, little did I know life would change for Tiger in just a few short weeks!

I was welcomed to Melbourne by my friend Dr. David Moffet and his trusty associate Stephen Pan; avid golfers; Australians (Sydney-siders), and gracious hosts.  I was invited by the good Doctor to join a golf tour coinciding with the aforementioned JB WERE Masters golf tournament.  As part of the tour and the golf group, I had the privilege of playing renowned golf venues: Royal Melbourne, Metropolitan, and Huntingdale golf club(s). 

Akin to playing  Pebble Beach Golf Links, Royal Melbourne (site of 2011 President's Cup) is an Australian masterpiece, a shotmaker's paradise, and a top 100 golf course in the world.   It is an extreme privilege to play there! As a golfer, I knew right away I was in a special place, partly because of the classic clubhouse adorned with memorabilia of the great champions that have come this way and won here; and also the evident pride of the hosts.  While I can't say the course gave me a lot of personal golf memories (as in a great score)  it did give up an occasional par (s) or birdie that I will remember well into the future.  Pictured above is the No.11 Par 3 hole.  

Metropolitan, ranked in the top 100 outside of the US, is one of the best courses I've ever played. It gave me two birdies including a 40 foot snake on a Par 3. Only my 2nd hole of the day but a putt because of the profound luck that I will never forget!  Framed by towering trees and plenty of Australian bush land, each step felt like paradise, even as I searched endlessly for an errant tee shot or missed iron.  Nevertheless, the course and especially the post round beverage enjoyed adjacent to the day's final hole, and made sweeter by a miraculous save to end play, are still fresh in my mind.  Sitting watching the sun rays trickle behind the trees, secured with a nice position; the golf course slowly descending into the evening after a days work; my feet resting on the plush grass seven thousand eight hundred sixty miles away from my home course, and the setting sun still warming my bones, indeed, I felt really lucky to be there!

Huntingdale as well as the Kingston Heath Golf  Club were certainly as excellent in some respects.  But, neither would supersede my impression of Royal Melbourne or Metropolitan on this trip!   For now, I'll store the memories of Tigermania in my mind and on these photographs and think about how I have been severely fortunate to have been given these gifts by the travel gods.  And maybe in the course of events, Tiger will pullout his next win!

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

Follow Rick at:

http://www.rickrodriguez.net/

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rocket

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rodriguez_Report

On the road with Saint Mary's College Men's Basketball Team Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary By Rick Rodriguez

I am back on the road this week headed to Murray, Kentucky to watch the Saint Mary's College Men's Basketball team take on Murray State and this occasion has brought back memories of the last time I was in the region in Nashville, Tennessee. Nashville, is a short distance from Murray, Kentucky.

Nashville, is a great small town with a big city feel and definitely a festive atmosphere. Moreover, it is the home of one of my high school friends, Jim Marshall, and he knows the town well.  Additionally, as the head honcho at Coyote Ugly Saloon, he takes great care of his guests when we come for a visit. 

Wikipedia "Nashville is the capital of the U.S. state of Tennessee and the county seat of Davidson County. It is located on the Cumberland River in Davidson County, in the north-central part of the state. The city is a center for the health care, publishing, banking and transportation industries, and is home to a large number of colleges and universities. It is most notably known as a center of the music industry, earning it the nickname "Music City".  

Aside from checking in at some local sites including Titan Stadium and  BB King's Blues Club on my last visit, my travel companion, Vince Howell and I treated ourselves to a meal at Prime 108.  Here's a very accurate description: "First of all I love the location. You feel like you are walking into a train station. There is a big clock on the wall and a train schedule just like you would find at a real train station. This place is a good alternative for chains like Morton's or Ruth Chris."  I couldn't agree more!  It was an impressive venue and the food worthy of a return trip.

The big highlight of the trip was watching the Saint Mary's Men's College Basketball team take on the Vanderbilt Commodores. While the result didn't turn out in the Gaels favor, the experience was a memorable one.  Vanderbilt, a South Eastern Conference team, plays in a historic venue.  

"Memorial Gymnasium was built in the early 1950s. It was dedicated as the campus memorial to students and alumni killed in World War II; a plaque commemorating these people is displayed in the lobby. At the time of its construction, there was a serious discussion within the Vanderbilt community about whether the school should de-emphasize intercollegiate athletics. As a compromise, the gymnasium was built to hold only about 8,000 seats, and it would be readily adaptable to other uses.

The gymnasium floor was built up above its surroundings, more in the nature of a stage.   Memorial Gym is well known for its unusual design. The end-of-the-floor bench location is now unique in major college basketball, and said to give Vanderbilt a home court advantage, since no other facility in which opponents play is arranged in such a way. The interior walls were unpainted cinder blocks prior to a major renovation in the early 2000s. The middle of the three decks has a low ceiling and when the house lights are turned off during game play gives the distinct impression of watching a Cinemascope movie of basketball."

Unfortunately, the Gaels were defeated in the match up with the Commodores on that day (89-70) though it was close at halftime.  Saint Mary's (17-3), at the time, hadn't lost since Dec. 1 to San Diego State, and this loss was a tough end to a week when the Gaels moved into the rankings for the first time since Jan. 26, 2010. This game was the second part of a home-and-home, and coach Randy Bennett said "the scheduling was a payback to Vandy visiting last season and would have preferred to play this game earlier to give his Gaels more time to learn some painful lessons." 

Hopefully, Saint Mary's will pull out a big victory this time around in the ESPN Bracketbuster game vs Murray State!  And, with Dick Vitale broadcasting for ESPN it will be the marquee match up of the weekend.  That alone will make it another great Nashville experience!  Whatever happens, I'll be there taking in the experience of pre-March Madness basketball among a partisan crowd with but a few Gaels taking and a whole bunch of Racers!  That's part of the experience of being on the road with the Saint Mary's College Men's Basketball team!

 

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

Follow Rick at:

http://www.rickrodriguez.net/

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rocket

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rodriguez_Report

 

 

 

Elevated Expectations on The Great Ocean Road Victoria, Australia Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

 Commentary by By Rick Rodriguez

  
Cruising along the southern coastline in Victoria, Australia on The Great Ocean Road, after a week of playing some of Australia's finest golf courses, I began to think about how similar coastlines can be throughout the world: prodigious cliffs, coarse rocks, beautiful beaches, thick brush, seaside coves, and at times tumbling rocks.  However, in visiting the Great Ocean Road, a few hour drive from Melbourne, Australia; I was promised more: a spectacular tour, quaint towns, wildlife, and a marvel of the world—The Twelve Apostles National Park—thus with elevated expectations, I grabbed the coach that would deliver me to this promised land and headed off to the southern part of Victoria! After securing a window seat in the air-conditioned coach, I nestled in and got comfortable, a young man sat next to me (Italian), and in a short while we would engage in a lengthy conversation on our respective trips; however, for now, we would sit silently next to each other not unlike standing elevator companions!    
 

The tour’s 1^ststop was an oceanside pit stop for a Kodak moment and shortly thereafter the small town of Torquoy, Victoria.  The town, a small surf village on Victoria’s southern coast, is very typical of most seaside venues littered with small shops and convenience stores.  After the brief interlude in Torquoy, we continued along the spectacular and rugged shoreline; our driver skillfully adhering to the pavement despite at times hairpin turns adjacent to prodigious cliffs.  In little time we came about the small town of Apollo Bay, and I scampered off to find some postcards to send home.  After surveying the beach, I adhered to the Driver’s warning to return on time for the scheduled departure and we left en route to the Twelve Apostles National Park.

Upon seeing the Twelve Apostles National Park, nature’s gift to the world and the Southern Coast of Australia, I was breathless and inspired!  This is nature at its finest and all one can do is stare and admire the beautifully carved Apostles.  Millions of years of the Ocean’s work stood before me and I could only envision what those of yore might have thought when they came along these testaments to time!  Moving quickly to see as much as possible, I traversed three main trails before heading to a small cove I reached by negotiating a cliff down to the beach.     It is one of those places you often see in a postcard and it was quite dramatic!  The water ebbed and flowed somewhat briskly; however, I could envision sitting here an entire day.   I scaled to each end of the cove despite my attire, jeans and a tee shirt, and in a short while I was back up in the comfort of the coach.  The tour continued on stopping at other segments of the Twelve Apostles National Park before arriving at our last stop.

At our last stop, Port Campbell,  our Driver, once again admonished us about the time schedule. The Italian guy, remember him, saved me from figuring out how to find a way back to Melbourne (3 hours), as in my carelessness, I let the coach leave without me, and really there is never a moment quite like seeing your one and only ride home careening onto the Highway.  Slightly daunted, I asked a local about the possibilities of catching another coach or a cab back to Melbourne; he replied in the negative!  I suspected as much given the remoteness of this town and the paucity of inhabitants.  Slightly perplexed, I began the scanning process of surveying my options, and none looked too good.  As I sat slightly alarmed, 15 & 20 minutes having passed since the coach had departed, I caught eye of another coach coming into town which turned out to be mine.  The Italian guy, thinking it odd I was not on the bus, had finally convinced himself that I hadn’t suddenly decided to leave the tour and informed the Driver that I was not present.  Thank God! 

Alas, after a spectacular day touring the Great Ocean Road, I nearly found myself a temporary inhabitant of a remote seaside village called Port Campbell.  Ah, there is nothing like a little temporary overnighter in sleepy village somewhere on the other side of home, but fortunately I dodged that little event.  Nonetheless, the little episode was certainly adaptable after all I was in Australia, capturing the Great Ocean Road, perhaps for the only time!

 

In three hours, we were back home, and I checked in for the last time at the Crowne Plaza Melbourne.  In the morning, I had a quick breakfast, and grabbed a cab to the Airport.  14 hours later I landed in SFO safe & sound.  The tour of THE GREAT OCEAN ROAD turned out as promised!  It promised elevated expectations and it delivered that and more!  It was another amazing trip to the land down under!

 

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

Follow Rick at:

http://www.rickrodriguez.net/

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rocket

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rodriguez_Report

Collecting Baseball Cards as a hobby Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Of the many constants of my life, few span my entire existence on planet Earth as my collection of Baseball Cards--my lifetime hobby.  I started collecting Baseball Cards in 1969!  And, I remember the experience of opening a pack of cards in front of my godparents home on Redding Avenue Oakland, California.  I was with my older brother, Jaime, that day, and as kids we collected hundreds of cards.  In that pack of cards that day, I only remember one player from that pack, a Detroit Tiger, pitcher Daryl Patterson .  That's the card pictured here!  Of course, I don't know why as a 6 year old I could have such fine recollection of Mr. Patterson, but I do!  Perhaps, it was the distinct black and yellow colors of the card that caught my eye, or his position in a follow thru mode; or the hazy color of the grass. I don't know what it was but here we are both today sharing a paragraph together--nearly 40 years later!  Yikes--I've been collecting for 40 years!

In 1970, collecting cards was a banner year for us (my brother & me) as we bought loads and loads of baseball cards.  Back then, we collected bottles and turned them in for cash, and yep, bought baseball cards.  Our cause was also aided by our older cousins from San Francisco, Michael & Jesse, that heaped dozens of cards at us when we visited their home on Paris Street.  We'd walk away with football cards from the mid 1960's; as well as, many late sixties Topps baseball cards. 

Right about that time (early seventies) , the Oakland A's, Oakland Raiders, and Golden State Warriors (yes, Golden State) were about to embark on a unique time in the San Francisco Bay Area--winning championships!  The A's won three straight world titles; the Raiders had many memorable playoff moments before winning the Super Bowl in 1977, and the Rick Barry led Golden State Warriors won the NBA Championship in the 1974-75 season!  The San Francisco 49ers joined the party in 1981 and 1985 and twice more in the 1980's on their way to the team of the decade!  It was a great run for the Bay Area.  Of course, those years further enhanced my collecting of cards of all three sports, and to this day memories of those years have remained a constant in my life.  I collected other things,too!  The infamous seat cushions (A's), wristbands (Warriors), bats, autographs, and pennants (A's).    Many of the items I collected stood the test of time and are still with me.  Others, befallen to  calamities such as mom's cleaning day, never made it.  While my cards have survived over the years stored in everything from cigar boxes to an army green metal toolbox; my other collectibles haven't been as fortunate.  In my many moves, I've lost track of many precious possessions, but alas, these items exist somewhere even if for now they remain out of my possession.

The explosion of Free Agency in the 1976 ended the reign of the Oakland A's.  I never got used to Catfish as a New York Yankee, or Reggie as an Baltimore Oriole, or Captain Sal Bando as a Milwaukee Brewer thus toward the end of the 1970's my collecting came to an end.  The Warriors lost in the NBA Western conference finals in 1975-76 Season, and never regained the status that saw them sweep the Washington Bullets (4-0) in the finals.  The Raiders went on to two more Super Bowl wins in 1980 and 1983.  But, when the Raiders went south to Los Angeles, my heart stayed here with memories of my beloved Oakland Raiders of the 1970's.

Due mainly to the explosion of baseball cards as an investment, and the introduction of a plethora of new card companies (Donruss & Fleer); and the idea that players were no longer part of team for more than a few seasons--my interest waned!  It was a sad end to the boyhood I had as a kid growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area, collecting wax packs of Baseball Cards for the pure joy of it, and actually caring about the players as if they were somehow part of the family.    

Today, I'm a proud owner of many baseball, football, and basketball cards.  I am still a fan of the A's, Warriors, and in a nostalgic sense of the Raiders.  My heart never went back to the Raiders once they left town!   And, while today's athletes have in many ways contributed to my enjoyment of the sports and teams; many have helped to further deteriorate my interest in the games.  I still collect cards, but only those of my boyhood days.  Over the years, I've added to my collection, and perhaps some day I'll get all the cards I'm missing or wanting.  I'm sure when that day comes, I'll sit back and recall that day back in 1969 when I first encountered Mr. Daryl Patterson...

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

Follow Rick at:

http://www.rickrodriguez.net/

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rocket

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rodriguez_Report

 

Extraordinary travel experiences in England Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary by Rick Rodriguez 

Some of my most extraordinary travel experiences have come from a sense of being driven toward a destination.  Figuratively speaking, I was driven to get to England in 1996, and yes that's where I ended up that summer almost as if fate interceded and got me there!  Leek Wooten, a small town outside of Warwick (central England) and in the heartland of Shakespeare Country, is where I arrived to compete in the 10th World Left-Handed Golf Championship and attend the 1996 British Open!

The World Left-handed Golf Championship is held around the world every two years.  Several countries are represented and compete in a medal play golf championship.  In England, the host course was The Warwickshire Golf Club, located in the quaint town of Leek Wooten.  This is also very near the Warwick Castle, a famous medieval castle.

It was my 1st trip to England and after arriving at Heathrow International Airport in London.  I rented a car and caught the M (Highway) for a few hour trip north to Leamington Spa and The Courtyard Marriott.  After about 20 km/miles, I realized that I was in fact heading south and had to negotiate a roundabout to get going in the right direction!  I did, and what ensued was a pleasant trip right through central England.  I vividly recall the sense of freedom I experienced out on the open road, seeing unfamiliar terrain, and being alone in a country knowing not a soul.  The spirit of adventure is amazing!  

Once I arrived in Leamington Spa, I immediately found my hotel, got situated, and then headed downstairs to the lobby. I sat down and relaxed at the bar and met a man named Walter.  After introductions, this town local was kind enough to drive me to the golf course.  Once I arrived at the Warwickshire Golf Club, I was overwhelmed by the sense of pride I felt seeing each participating country's flag fluttering in the wind.  I was so proud being there representing the United States as a participating player!

I immediately arranged a practice round and got on on the course.  I found the course to be highly playable.  However, most of that day is but a blur as I was severely jet-lagged.   So, needless to say, my golf play was uneventful save for a few memorable swings with the driver.   After befriending a man & fellow competitor, Bill Hickey, from Montana, we had dinner at The Hilton, and I, shortly thereafter, tried in vain to get some sleep but to no avail.  I was about to experience the dreaded desynchronnosis!!!! 

The next day I headed off to Blackpool on the west coast of England, and the site of 1996 British Open at Royal Lytham. My trip coincided with "The Open" and I had tickets to the final round of the championship. Tom Lehman, an American, had established the lead, but was paired with England's own Nick Faldo.  I wrote in my journal at the time "The Open was fabulous!  I spent most of the day at holes 2, 4 & 5.  I got to see most of the stars: Couples, Pavin, Nicklaus, Norman, Crenshaw, Woods, Mediate, Singh, Faldo, and eventual championship winner Tom Lehman.  I followed Faldo and Lehman most of the way home (18th hole).  Couples made a charge.  Mark Brooks chipped in on 5.  I like him.  The roar of the gallery at The Open is unbelievable especially when Faldo birdied!  I hung out after and took a close up photo of the Claret Jug and Lehman being interviewed by Jimmy Roberts of ESPN."  It is interesting to note who the stars were in 1996.  Back then Faldo, Norman, and Couples were pretty big stars--and a relative unknown--Tiger Woods was playing in his last event as a non-professional golfer.  He turned professional shortly thereafter!

The excitement of "The Open" or inspiration unfortunately didn't carry over for me in the 10th World Left-Handed Golf Championship.  I played and tried hard but didn't have the skill or experience to finish in the higher end of my golf flight. I was crushed and it hurt for a long time! Despite the experience, I learned a few valuable lessons in this tournament.  Basically it comes down to rest and preparation to excel in these tournaments.  I underestimated the jet lag and didn't catch up on my sleep until mid week. I  spent hours awake gazing at the Warwick Castle and lamenting my inability to sleep.  I also learned that if I was going to compete in golf tournaments around the world I needed to improve my golf game.

The trip reminded me to never regret traveling abroad.  Nothing compares to the freedom of being alone in the world and discovering new things.  I had discovered England and the Shakespeare Country and Royal Lytham St. Anne's and the small town of Leek Wooten in Warwickshire on this trip.  

 Not only did this trip broadened my experience of the world but it built friendships for me; it gave me a greater appreciation of where I'm from, and allowed me to continue to follow my dreams!  Always follow your dreams and live extraordinary travel experiences!

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

Follow Rick at:

http://www.rickrodriguez.net/

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rocket

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rodriguez_Report

No fear of flying Highest Duty by Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

The book Highest Duty by Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger with Jeffrey Zaslow has helped me have little or No fear of flying.   I've often wondered why the skies have always treated me so kindly. Turbulence here and there, at times extreme, but never calamitous. I've have never been involved in any rough airplane incidents outside of heavy turbulence in Australia once and having a plane unable to land in New Zealand (we turned around).  This with me strapped to a gas tank!

However, the day I saw the videotape of a Pilot landing his aircraft with his landing gear pointed at a 90 degree angle and a plane full of nervous passengers, I thought "these guys are amazing!"  Moreover, it also established a degree of comfort for me while flying and it should for you, too!  Of course, tragedy can strike at anytime but for the most part flying in general is the safest mode of transportation.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

"JetBlue Flight 292, en route to New York's JFK Airport from Burbank, California encountered nose gear malfunctions shortly after takeoff. It safely landed three hours later at Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) with no apparent injuries.

The pilots first realized something was wrong when the landing gear failed to retract; television footage showed that the plane's front wheels were pointing sideways, perpendicular to the plane's body. The plane was diverted to Long Beach Airport, where it tried and failed to land, and then on to LAX, which has better emergency facilities. The aircraft circled near the airport for several hours to burn fuel; the Airbus 320 aircraft is not designed to dump fuel.

Commentators predicted that the nose gear would either snap off, immediately twist to parallel upon touch down, or withstand the friction from the landing while remaining at a 90 degree angle.

At approximately 6:19PM local time, almost three hours after takeoff, the aircraft successfully managed to touch down. The pilot landed the plane first on its two rear wheels, keeping its nose in the air as long as possible until it slowed enough that the nose could be safely lowered. The front tires remained at a 90 degree angle and were incinerated through the friction. A cloud of white smoke and sparks burst out from behind the nose gear as the plane traveled down the runway. As the airplane finally stopped, the pilot had managed to keep the plane no more than 6 inches from the runway's centerline. Officials were prepared with a brigade of fire engines as well as fire retardant foam in case the front wheel ignited. The plane was evacuated a few minutes later."

So for some odd reason, I never really grasped what Captain Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger and his crew accomplished the day his lifeless U.S. Airways plane plummeted into the Hudson River. Never mind that the guy lived in my same neighborhood, two blocks over, and my town Danville threw a huge parade for the guy. I didn't get it!

Then, I read New York times Bestseller "Highest Duty...My Search for What Really Matters" by Captain Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger with Jeffrey Zaslow. While the story details a chronological history of Mr. Sullenberger's life, particularly how he came to be at the moment where he was gliding an Airbus Jet into a freezing river; the message, his message, seems of greater importance!

For me, this book brought into contemplation the things I do daily "Am I making a difference?" Will my children benefit from my example or not? What can I do to be better prepared for unexpected encounters? The book offers anecdotes for these questions for readers to consider and suggests how one man and his methods came to aid him that day. It is also an emotionally compelling story! I wouldn't be surprised if a tear or two dripped down to the pages of the book while reading this story. It did for me! I love stories like that because they relate to thoughts I've had or experiences I've lived through.

It's book like these that allow me to travel in comfort. And, perhaps,it might aid you if you have a fear of flying to take comfort in the knowledge that the guy in the cockpit is a professional. A PRO that is trained to deal with situations; a Pilot that has prepared for these situations and in fact has made it his "HIGHEST DUTY" that you arrive at your destination safely!

Highest Duty...My Search for What Really Matters" is a joy to read. The book is 321 pages. I read it in November 2010.

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

Follow Rick at:

http://www.rickrodriguez.net/

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rocket

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rodriguez_Report

 

 

Dipsea Trail/Marin County Northern California June 2011 Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Commentary by Rick Rodriguez

Crushing small pebbles and stones with each step on the Dipsea Trail/Marin County, blood coarsing through my veins violently; I gasped for air, relishing in the moment, alone, navigating the trail, again, that serves my soul and breaks up the monotony of the chase; the sun's rays penetrating the back of my neck, I focused on the discomfort I felt in my lower extremities and how I've learn to love the self-inflicted pain of putting my body through yet another physical revival.  It was a return for me: a return to the past!  It was a return to the Dipsea Trail in the Golden Gate National Recreation Area just north of San Francisco, California!

I was once again back on the Dipsea Trail on a picturesque day!  What had started out as a nebulous beginning, quickly changed as I dropped deeper into the valley and rose again to what is an open expanse of the Dipsea Trail.  The sun had made its appearance and Mother Nature, after hurling a brisk fog at me rewarded my visit with bright rays of sunshine as I crested a small ridge that leads to the Pantoll Station and the descent of what I believe is one of the most amazing 1.5 miles in California--the Steep Ravine Trail!

Passing the sign that said "Dipsea" this way, beckoning me toward the famous trail that connects Mill Valley and Stinson Beach, I opted for the Steep Ravine trail entrance at the Pantoll Station, a 1.7 mile jaunt and then a similar length descent before it intersects with Dipsea on its way down to the shores of Stinson Beach.  And, it had been a while since I had returned to this trail, usually accompanied by a consistent companion of the past.  There is a history there.  An irrefutible  history that was borne of memories earned through sweat and struggle.  But this day was not about the past and as sweat formed on my chin I could think of nothing but inhaling an adequate supply of oxygen and of the joy I was experiencing for the small price I was paying. 

The Steep Ravine trail in all its remarkableness can only be thoroughly enjoyed by halting any activity and embracing a moment of silence. It is magnificent but only affords fast glances of its beauty as a runner's focus is always on the precise foot trail placement!  Having learned the way of severely sprained ankles, I only deviate from my routine at those intervals where the trail captivates me and I cannot ignore its attention!  It grabs me and I respond with awe! 

As I descended the ladder, face forward, I had missed this place and perhaps the message was that I needed to get back there!  I felt a resurgence; a renewal of sorts, I was reminded how much I needed to work at getting strong again.  I was reminded about how good working hard feels!  This is me and what I enjoy doing and sharing!  Undoubtedly, I will return to this place and though on this day I was alone, an occasional passer-byer breaking up the silence, I was not abandoned of my memory and what this place means to me.  This environment responds to my thoughts, hopes, and dreams!  It is where I go to renew, replenish and reinvigorate my enthusiasm for them and what I hope to accomplish!

The Dipsea Race

"The Dipsea is well known for its scenic course and challenging trails. After traversing a few blocks in Mill Valley's downtown, runners climb 688 stairs.Leading up the side of Mount Tamalpais, and then pass through Muir Woods National Monument, Mount Tamalpais State Park, and the Golden Gate National Recreation Area.  The start is at the intersection of Throckmorton and Cascade Drive in Mill Valley, which drew its name from having the first saw mill in Marin County. The Dipsea Trail is the most direct route connecting the town of Mill Valley, located near the northwestern shores of Richardson Bay, with the village of Stinson Beach, situated along the Pacific coast.  Stinson Beach is a popular tourist destination, located about a 30-minute drive north of San Francisco on Highway 1, via Golden Gate Bridge.  The ascent over the southern shoulder of Mount Tam reaches its apex around the top of Cardiac Hill, 4.1 miles into the race."

Since returning to the Dipsea, I've gone back several times for a renewal; a re-birth of sorts, it works for me and it works for others.  The Dipsea delivers time and time again!

Rick Rodriguez is a writer and is frequently published in opinion/editorial sections in local and national newspapers. Rick, a San Francisco Bay Area native and graduate of Saint Mary's College lives in Danville, California with his two children.  Contact Rick at rrodriguez@pacunion.com or (510) 326-4795.

Follow Rick at:

http://www.rickrodriguez.net/

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rocket

www.RickRodriguez.typepad.com/The_Rodriguez_Report