Tag: Miami Heat

Haters Gonna Hate

Haters Gonna Hate

It’s with disgruntled reluctance that I say congratulations to Tom Brady and the rest of the New England Patriots for their victory in Super Bowl XLIX. As a Miami Dolphins fan, it really irks me to see Brady hoist the Lombardi trophy for the fourth time; him standing there with his smug grin, super model wife, and UGG shoes.

I don’t think I’m alone in those feelings. I think outside the New England area, people are tired of seeing the Patriots succeed. I think many people were not so much pulling for Seattle as they were rooting against the Pats. It’s not unlike the Miami Heat with LeBron James. Even though they won only two championships, it seems fans nationally wanted them to lose all the time, and all other teams raised their game when going up against Miami.

That’s what happens when you elevate yourself to a level of greatness.

This dynamic is especially true in our spiritual lives. It’s been my experience there’s no greater hater than Satan himself. And when you start elevating your relationship with Jesus, the enemy works overtime to try and bring you down.

Hater

I am so fortunate to have a perspective of how far I’ve come in my faith journey, and I can’t fathom gong back to the life I was living just six short years ago. Although I had belief in God, I was not living in Him. I was not fostering a relationship with my Lord, surrendering my troubles to Him and acting out of faith. Instead, I was living like a blind man, unable to see what God was showing me and unwilling to listen to His calling. I was distracted by the worldly things Satan put in my life on a daily basis. I was the proverbial seed that fell on rocky ground.

But I was able to get right with God and turn my life around. And since that moment, I’ve grown in my faith, made more time for His Word, and have seen great things happen in my life. Through my church, I’ve been baptized as an adult, given back to our community, traveled on a mission trip, and even preached in front of our congregation. I’ve definitely elevated my faith and my life to heights I’d never previously experienced.

…and then the hater of all haters showed up.

I recently had an experienced that shook me to my core. It rattled me, enraged me, and made me want to lash out at the world. It was the result of the enemy’s tactics, manipulating someone to cause others great pain. Six years ago I would have lashed out. I would have overreacted, most likely with rage and violence. But this journey I am on, a walk I share with Jesus Christ, has been a training of sorts. Every sermon I’ve listened to, both at church and via podcast, prepared me for that moment. Every reading plan in my Bible app prepared me for that moment. Every moment of prayer, both alone and with others, prepared me for that moment. In that moment, grace and wisdom prevailed.

Satan hates its when I focus on God and surrender myself to Him. Satan hates it when I work to be a reflection of God’s love to others. Satan can’t stand the fact that I have what he used to have; God’s love and a place in Heaven. So he does whatever he can whenever he can and through whomever he can to get to me and pull me down. And the stronger I grow in God, the harder Satan works to hinder me. As a Christ follower, I am called to invite others through my words and actions into God’s light, and that’s bad for business for the supreme of all haters.

Fact

I never would have guessed it’s such a blessing to be hated.

“See how numerous are my enemies and how fiercely they hate me!” – Psalm 25:19

A New Open Letter to LeBron James

I am very excited to have been invited to contribute to The Florida Post, a new writing endeavor launched by my friend, the ever-so-talented Jonathan C. Mitchell. Since the site is, “dedicated to all of the major Sports Teams, Culture, Entertainment, and anything in relation to the great Sunshine State,” I figured I’d make my first post a topic about which no one seems to be talking. <yeah, right>

Here is my open letter to LeBron James.

 

 

Also, be sure to follow The Florida Post on Twitter.

Championship Memories

October 26, 1997. Game 7 of the World Series. Marlins and Indians tied in the bottom of the 11th inning. Edgar Renteria at the plate, and he bloops a single over the glove of pitcher Charles Nagy and through the Indians’ infield. Craig Counsell trots home from third scoring the Series clinching run, and I start screaming like a mad man. Standing alone in my apartment, I race into the bedroom where my fiancé was sleeping. I wake her up with my yelling and incoherent blabbering. It would be three days before she speaks to me again.

October 25, 2003. Game 6 of the World Series. Josh Beckett on the mound for the Marlins, pitching on only three days’ rest, and trying to close out the series – on the road – against the vaulted Yankees. I’m once again standing alone in the family room of my house; pacing, sweating, praying. I’ve long since devoured my finger nails. My heart is racing at 120 beats per minute. Jorge Posada stabs at a pitch, making contact, and sending the ball dribbling up the first base line. Charging from the mound, Beckett scoops up the ball, tags Posada, and the Marlins are once again World Series champions. It would take me four days to get my voice back.

June 20, 2006. Game 6 of the NBA Finals. Dallas Maverick Jason Terry misses what would have been a game-tying three point shot, and the Miami heat hold on to win the game and their first ever NBA Championship. Standing alone in my apartment, I once again go into crazy person mode, and hope my neighbors don’t call the police because of all the yelling and screaming.

I remember vividly where I was for each of the recent championship-clinching moments for my beloved South Florida sports franchises. They are memories that are emblazoned into my brain; mental tattoos I will carry with me forever.

The same applies to other key sports moments I witnessed in my lifetime.

I remember jumping up and down with my dad in our living room as Kirk Gibson hit his majestic and legendary homerun to win Game 1 of the 1988 World Series. I remember yelling gibberish at the TV as I watched Marcus Allen weave his way through the Redskins’ defense in Super Bowl XVIII on his way to a 74 yard touchdown run. I even remember crying both a year before and a year later as I watched my Dolphins fail in Super Bowls XVII and XIX, respectively. The images of John Riggins plowing over Don McNeal and Roger Craig high-stepping into the end zone still haunt me as a sports fan.

But I recall more distinctly sharing those moments with my dad and other family members. I remember the laughing, the screaming, the cheering, and yes, the crying. I remember the euphoria and the sorrow those moments brought, but more so the fact I was able to share those emotions with the people I loved.

With the recent championships of both the Marlins and the Heat, however, what I specifically remember is that I was alone as I watched them happen. It was just me and my sports psychosis. The moments are still very memorable, but they don’t exactly rank with the memories from my childhood, where the smile on my dad’s face was outdone only by the smile on my face. Those moments were special, snapshots in time dipped in magic and sealed forever in that happy place that is the corner of my heart.

June 21, 2012. Game 5 of the NBA Finals. There was no drama. There was no suspense. For the better part of the 4th quarter, the Miami Heat held a twenty point lead over the Oklahoma City Thunder. The only things that were shocking were how dominating the Heat played to win their fourth consecutive game of the Finals, and Mike Miller’s lights out performance from 3-point range.

But one thing was spectacular as the clock ran down to zeroes and the Heat put a bow on their championship run. I watched the whole game with my daughter sitting right beside me. She laughed at my quirky mannerisms and ignored my sports Turrets as I yelled at the TV. She asked me why I spent so much time tweeting during the game. She indulged me as I felt the need to highlight and explain the nuances of the plays we’d just witnessed.

Yet through it all, we took in the historic moment together. I was able to watch her excitement build as the game progressed, as her eyes exploded open with every laser beam pass and gravity-defying dunk. I relished the sound of her pre-teen voice as she’d marvel, “that was awesome” or “that guy’s on fire.” She was less cheerleader and more a student of the game, but a fan nonetheless who was thrilled to see her dad’s favorite basketball team win it all. It would officially become her favorite basketball team that evening as well.

And as we took in the post-game festivities and watched LeBron James hoist the Larry O’Brien trophy in poetic celebration, I noticed the only thing bigger than the smile on my face was the smile on the face of my daughter. I hope she, too, will carry that mental tattoo with her forever.

001/365 The Start of Something New

Inspired by my awesome and wonderful wife, who on September 6 started a daily photoblog on her site, I will attempt to post a photo to my blog on a daily basis. To be honest, I resisted this idea for such a long time. For me, it was not what blogging is about. However, something happened recently that made me change my mind.

Lee recently lost her great uncle, and in his passing, Lee pondered about how a generation of story tellers had left us. To use her words:

It is for this reason that I want to foster my blog so that it becomes my own personal living, breathing history book. I want to do this for my nephew, Hunter, and for my step-children, Natalie and Daniel.  I want to fill it with stories of my childhood, of coming of age and of finding myself.

So, in the spirit of better documenting my life and my experiences, as well as Project 365, I present to you Day 1 of my photo journey. I hope you enjoy.

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!

We rang in the first day of 2012 by taking in the Miami Dolphins’ final game of the season – which also happened to be Jason Taylor’s final game in the NFL – and then hopped on the Metrorail to downtown Miami to attend the Miami Heat game against the Bobcats. Both home teams won, and it was a fun, albeit exhausting, experience for Lee and me.

Such a Sell Out

As the NFL regular season draws to a close, the NBA season kicks off, and the NHL season is in full swing, I find my thoughts meandering ahead to the 2012 Major League Baseball season. Dolphins, Heat, and Panthers notwithstanding, as a Miami fan, I hold a continuous and giddy anticipation for the new ballpark of the new look Miami Marlins.

There’s been much talk – mostly negative – about the new stadium in Miami. An SEC investigation into the issuance of bonds for the stadium, controversy over property taxes for the parking garages built for the venue, and the ad nasueum discussion about Marlins fan apathy; it makes you wonder if any positive energy can be generated in South Florida next Spring. The answer, simply, is ‘yes’.

I’m calling it now. The Miami Marlins will sell out every home game of the 2012 season.

I know you think I’m crazy. I know you think the Marlins have an apathetic fan base, a notion that is only partially true. I know you’re going to fall back on the data and the games in the past where literally only hundreds of people attended.

Before you completely tune me out, however, here are five reasons why the Marlins will sell out every home game next season:

Location, Location, Location

The new Marlins ballpark sits on the hallowed grounds of the former Orange Bowl and in the heart of Miami’s Little Havana. The empty seats of previous seasons were much more a function of geography and logistics than they were a function of fan apathy. Believe it or not, Miami fans care about their baseball team. They just didn’t care enough to spend ninety minutes in traffic to watch a team that often times didn’t contend.

What makes the location of the new ballpark so special is that it’s in the middle of a residential area. Fans can easily drive to a game, park at someone’s house, and walk to the stadium. Also, public transportation is now a much more readily available option that it ever was in the past, and pedestrian traffic is now possible. With the new ballpark, one can easily walk to the game. As a kid growing up in Miami, I remember walking from my aunt’s house off of Calle Ocho to the Orange Bowl. Thirteen city block and just under a mile and a half. The average fan who before didn’t have the means to get to North Miami-Dade County for a Marlins game now has a variety of transportation options available to him.

Miami Loves All Things New

Remember the buzz surrounding the Miami Heat last season? With perhaps the exception of Los Angeles, no other city succumbs to the irresistible attraction of glitz, glamour, and celebrity quite like Miami. It’s as if the city has collective A-D-D. If it’s new and hot and trendy, everyone in Miami wants to be there and be a part of it. The new ballpark in Miami will be exactly that. The water cooler conversations in mid-April will resemble this: “What do you mean you haven’t been to the new stadium? You definitely have to go, bro.” Add in the fact the new ballpark seats only 37,000 and the limited supply of tickets will only stoke the fires of the demand for access to the newest thing in town.

Weather You Like It or Not

Another contributing factor to poor attendance in the past was weather. In the middle of the summer, fans were reluctant to sit in the blazing South Florida sun in a stadium that provides little shelter from heat and humidity. If the forecast called for a threat of rain, chances are the average fan wouldn’t make the commute to the old stadium.

This is no longer the case. With a retractable roof, the new Miami ballpark will make the elements a non-issue for the fans. It’s nice to know there will be no rain-outs or rain delays for the Marlins. It’s also nice to know that even though it may be ninety five degrees outside, the ballpark will be a very comfortable and cool seventy degrees inside.

Local Sabor

It’s no secret Miami is the gateway to Latin America, and the city houses a vivacious, eclectic, and very large Hispanic community. All throughout Latin America, baseball is the national pastime, and for young, Hispanic males, it’s almost a rite of passage. With all due respect to Dominicans and Puerto Ricans everywhere, it’s been my experience the most fervent, opinionated, and, well informed Hispanic baseball fans are Cubans and Venezuelans. Now you have a new ballpark in the middle of Little Havana that is managed by a rambunctious and un-filtered Ozzie Guillén, who happens to be from Venezuela.

We Hispanics take pride in supporting our own, and with a roster that includes superstar Hanley Ramirez, newly acquired Jose Reyes, Anibal Sanchez, Mike Stanton (he’s ¼ Puerto Rican), and home grown Gaby Sanchez, the Hispanic baseball fan will be drawn to the new stadium in droves.

Even the name change from the Florida Marlins to the Miami Marlins aligns with this new approach. Don’t be surprised if, while watching a Marlins game on TV, you see ads for such brands as Goya, Pilon, and Hatuey plastering the outfield walls. I would go as far to say the naming rights for the new stadium, which are in the works of being sold, will be for a company or brand that caters to the Hispanic market. According to the US Census, minorities are projected to be the majority by 2050. You can expect the new ballpark in Miami to provide an early sample of that future trend.

Show Me the Money

The Marlins have made a big splash this off season with a new name, new uniforms, a new manager, and the spending of lots and lots of money. This shows a commitment to winning not previously displayed by Marlins ownership. Part of that was due to a lease agreement in the old stadium that handcuffed the Marlins from being able to complete financially. With the revenues from the new stadium, that is no longer the case. This translates to increased fan interest that, in turn, translates to increased fan attendance.

Still, in the end, it all comes down to winning. Even with the great location, the new, flashy stadium, the high-priced free agents, and the roster with names that end in E-Z, if the Marlins find themselves ten games back by May 1, it will be hard to keep momentum going with regards to attendance.

I will admit Miami fans are fickle. We practically, and almost quite literally, invented the notion of fair-weather fans. And I’ve always maintained in a city with beaches, beautiful women, trendy clubs, and a plethora of other distractions, the fight for the entertainment dollar is a fierce one. If the Marlins aren’t winning, the typical Miami fan will want to spend his entertainment dollar elsewhere (especially if the Miami Heat are running away with the NBA regular season and playoffs).

Still, I believe every seat at every home game in 2012 will be filled, and I’m really looking forward to helping contribute to that prediction.

The Rules of Engagement

I am a diehard sports fan. I love sports. Watching, coaching, partaking; I can’t get enough of sports (with the exception of Cricket. I just refuse to get into that at all.) Specifically, I get crazy about the teams from my hometown. So with the Miami Heat reaching the NBA Finals, instead of being 100% consumed with joy, I’m actually a little saddened.My good friend Matt is a diehard sports fan. He loves sports. Watching, critiquing, …..er, watching; he can’t get enough of sports. (I actually think he would get into Cricket). Specifically, Matt is crazy about the teams from Dallas. Rangers, Stars, Cowboys, and, of course, the Mavericks.

The Miami Heat will face the Dallas Mavericks in the 2011 NBA Finals.

You can see my dilemma.

My dilemma is fueled by the fact it’s very easy for me to slip into obnoxious fan mode. I wish I could control it. I wish I could promise you it wouldn’t happen. But that would be the equivalent of asking Bruce Banner to control the raging, green monster inside of him. It just happens. Throw in a case of beer and it happens a lot faster.

I need to emphasize Matt is not just a friend. He’s a very good friend. He’s in my inner circle. He’s one of the first numbers I’d call in the event of an emergency. My family celebrates the holidays with his family. He and his wife come over to our house just to hang out. We’re tight like that.

So in the interest of keeping a good thing solid, I’ve developed what I would like to call the 2011 NBA Finals Rules of Engagement:

  1. Under no circumstances are Matt and I allowed to watch any of the games together. I don’t care if he’s picking up the tab or providing all the beer. It ain’t happening.
  2. In-game commentary shall be limited to text messaging only. Unlike Twitter and Facebook, text messaging remains the last bastion of true private conversation.
  3. The ability of one person to be obnoxious following a win is directly proportional to how obnoxious the loser was during the game. Grace begets grace and douche begets douche.
  4. Both parties are reminded that opinion is NOT fact. All commentary must begin with “I think” or “I believe.” Caveat: Any commentary that is substantiated by documentable statistics is allowed (which means I will lose this part every time).
  5. No blaming the refs. Bad calls will be made that adversely impact both teams. It happens in all sports. Overall, it evens out. Both parties have to live with it.
  6. The first person to use the word ‘Wambulance’ agrees to let the other person slap him in the face.
  7. The first person to use the word ‘Meh’ agrees to let the other person punch him in the throat (I totally put that in there for my own benefit).
  8. Any wagering on the series is not to exceed $20 and cannot lead to the humiliation of the losing party (although I do love the idea of Matt wearing a LeBron James jersey to work).

In the end, it’s all just a game and we’ll both return to being best of friends. That is, of course, unless the Heat lose because the refs decided to baby Dirk Nowitzki all series, and the Mavs played dirty, and the Cowboys still suck, and Nolan Ryan was overrated, and the Stars should have stayed in Minnesota, and Jerry Jones is the reason for the lockout, and Debbie was a skank anyway, and…..

…meh!

Don’t Hate

I am going to begin this blog entry with a disclaimer. Yes, I am a fan of the Miami Heat. Yes, I was born and raised in Miami. Yes, although I currently reside in Tampa, my sports allegiance – with the exception of the Rays in the American League – resides in South Florida. I am an unapologetic Miami homer.

Now, with all that having been said, is there any more asinine and ridiculous column than the one written by Phil Taylor at SI.com about the Miami Heat? (see his full column here).

Mr. Taylor goes on to write, with what I can only hope is tongue-in-cheek disdain, about the new collaboration in South Florida sports: Dwyane Wade, LeBron James and Chris Bosh joining forces in Miami. He talks about loving gifted players who chase greatness, and thus this leads him to hate the Heat? Really? LeBron James making the choice to be a villain, making the choice to take less money, and making the choice to step out of his back-to-back, two-time MVP spotlight in pursuit of multiple championships is a bad thing?

See, this is a perfect example of the complete hypocrisy that exists in the world of sports journalism today. To be clear, I am not a journalist nor do I claim to be one. Still, I’ve been a sports fan and a student of sports media long enough to be able to speak about this matter with a certain, weekend-warrior level of confidence.

We implore our celebrity athletes to be open and honest. We chastise them as greedy when they leave championship caliber organizations in pursuit of more money (see former 49’er Ricky Watters, former Cowboy Larry Brown and former Buccaneer Dexter Jackson). We hold them to higher moral standards than we do ourselves. Yet, when LeBron James makes the gut-wrenching decision of admitting he cannot, by himself, achieve the level of greatness he seeks, when he reveals a level of humility and vulnerability that is rarely, if ever, seen in an athlete of his stature, our first response is to vilify him. Admittedly, the delivery of the message was awful. ‘The Decision’, as aired by ESPN, was a nightmare, and the reception in Miami, a party which was indeed wretched and grossly premature, was embarrassing. However, the court-jester messenger should not take away from the message; that being what LeBron did in leaving Cleveland for less money, less spotlight and a ton of hatred is unprecedented in modern day sports.

Speaking of money, Mr. Taylor goes on his column to minimize the financial sacrifice the Miami Three have made in order to play together. “I hate that we have become so accustomed to the overwhelming greed of superstar athletes that when the Heat’s threesome accepts roughly $110 million each when they could have had closer to $120 million, some people want to fit them for angels’ wings,” he writes. Let’s analyze that for a moment. Mr. Taylor is suggesting – scoffing really – that $10 million dollars is nothing for these already wealthy, superstar athletes. When you look at the $10 million as a percentage of the total contract (9%), things aren’t quite so clear. I have no idea of how much Mr. Taylor earns yearly as a writer for SI, but I wonder if he would flippantly shrug and say “No big deal” if Sports Illustrated asked him to take a pay cut of 9%. That would be the equivalent of going from a $100k salary to that of $91k. I am hard pressed to find anyone I know in my circle of friends who would voluntarily take that type of pay decrease in pursuit of a passion or dream. It’s rare.

Mr. Taylor goes on to dismiss the idea that players coming together, collaborating as friends and sacrificing collectively in pursuit of greatness, as something to be celebrated. “If the NBA turns into a top-heavy league, I’ll hate the Heat even more for starting the process.” What? Why doesn’t he instead direct that hate to Danny Ainge, the general manager of the Boston Celtics who made key moves to obtain Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen, establish the modern day NBA model of the ‘Big Three’, and subsequently win an NBA championship? Do you think Pat Riley would have been inclined to aggressively dump salary and clear cap space in Miami had it not been for the precedent set by the Celtics?

Furthermore, Mr. Taylor indirectly bashes D-Wade, LeBron and Bosh for wanting to play together. My counter argument is this. With the exception of Peter King, why does anyone still read Sports Illustrated? Steve Rushin is gone. Rick Reilly is gone. Sports Illustrated as a media entity has slipped. Does Mr. Taylor mean to suggest that if Rick Reilly were to call him up and offer him the opportunity to write columns for the pages of ESPN the Magazine, in collaboration with Reilly and Steve Rushin, he would turn down the offer and cite the argument of pursuing greatness on his own? Seriously, any national sports writer who has less Twitter followers than I do (and I’m a nobody) is not going to achieve greatness on his own.

Finally, we get to the point where Phil Taylor starts to make some sense. He describes Miami as a city full of front-runner loving, bandwagon jumping, hype-engulfing fans. Mr. Taylor, tell me something I don’t know. Have you BEEN to Miami? That city redefines vanity. The only thing shallower than water in a puddle is the general approach to sports fandom in South Florida. Much in the same way men on South Beach pay a gross amount of attention to women with cinnamon tans and implants, all the while ignoring women who tend to not be surgically enhanced, Miami fans will love a team when it’s winning and not give that same team the time of day when it’s losing. That’s Miami. If you don’t have the bling, the glitz and the glamour, don’t bother. LeBron, DWade and Chrish Bosh ARE the bling, the glitz and the glamour. Of course all Heat fans are going to be infatuated with that. It’s what we do best.

Mr. Taylor, I know I was rough on you with my blog. For that I apologize. Still, hate the Miami Heat all you want because I am going to love, love, love reading what you have to say next summer when the ‘Three My-Egos’ (as you put it) are celebrating their first NBA title.