THE GREATEST JOB IN SPORTS

HELP WANTED

 

One of the most powerful brands in the world seeks person to

work 20 weeks per year outdoors. Travel to beautiful places around

the world and wear shorts to the office. Appear on television occasionally

and say, "great shot, boss" quite often. No degree required, seven figures possible.

  

          Without even knowing what the job was, most of us would say, "that sounds like the

          greatest job in the world. Where do I apply?!"

 

          Well, it might not be the greatest job in the world, but it certainly could be the best
          one in professional sports and Joe LaCava has it. The Newtown, CT. native is a caddie
          for a guy named Tiger who doubles as his golden goose.

          After Monday's eleventh place finish in the BWM Championship, Tiger Woods has made
          just over $8.4 million in prize money, meaning that LaCava has raked in about $840,000,
          give or take a few Benjamins. That would put LaCava 98th on the PGA Tour money
          list without swinging a club or tapping in a two-foot putt under pressure. On the
          PGA Tour, caddies usually get 10 percent of their bosses winnings, and as we
          know, Tiger wins a lot.
     

          If Tiger captures the final leg of the FedEx Championship, he'll earn a whopping $10
          million,which would mean another million for LaCava. All for carrying a bag
          around a meticulously groomed patch of real estate in some of the most beautiful places,
          not only in the country, but in the world. Man, that is a great job if you can get it.

         There is no real pressure on the caddie in his job, even if your boss demands perfection.
         You might have to clean his balls, count the clubs in his bag, and pick up a divot the
         size of Rhode Island during the round, but seriously, there is no heaving lifting. Give
         Tiger the right yarder and get the hell out of the way. Pump him up once in a while and
         don't air his dirty laundry, and you're golden.
        

         Oh, sure, there are some drawbacks. You don't get a 401K plan, insurance benefits, or
         take part in a company Christmas party. But if you make almost a million a year for
         working about 20 weeks out of it, you can't really complain and probably won't have
         any problem with those expenses.

         If you tell someone you caddie for a living, you probably get a lot of's: "Um, that's nice.
         I'm sure it's good to be outside all day." But if you tell somebody you caddie for Tiger
         Woods, the "Um, that's nice," quickly turns into "No friggin' way!"
         

         And let's face it, Tiger reads greens better than anyone on the planet. Have you ever
         seen him ask for a caddie's advice on a double-breaker from 30 feet out? Never. He's
         his own man on the course and he'll embarrass himself with a tantrum before he ever
         shows you up on the course.

         I caddied for the first time on the day I turned 13. I got to the course early hoping to
         get out early, but being the new guy, I was the last guy to get a loop. When my
         name was called, I had a screaming headache because I hadn't eaten anything since
         breakfast. The guy I caddied for was much worse than Charles Barkley. He must've
         shot 125 on a piping-hot summer day in the same town Tiger played the last round of
         the BMW Championship on Monday. I didn't caddie much after that.

         I don't know what I was thinking. With a little luck, I could've had the greatest job
         in sports.

 

 



ERIC LeGRAND: BEST PLAYER IN COLLEGE FOOTBALL SATURDAY

The best moment in college football didn't take place in College Station, Texas or Ann Arbor,
Michigan. It didn't happen in Tallahassee, Florida or Eugene, Oregon. There wasn't a play by
Johnny Manziel or Devin Garnder that produced a goose-bump, make-you-think moment like
the one that occurred in Piscataway, New Jersey on Saturday.

Yeah, I said Piscataway. Home of Rutgers, the school still rinsing itself off of the Mike Rice
scandal and the not-so-smart decisions that were made after it. Send in the clowns has been
the school's theme song since last spring.

But the state university of New Jersey made all the right moves on Saturday when they retired
number 52, the first one ever put away for good in the 144-year history of the program. In an
emotional ceremony, Eric LeGrand, saw his number unveiled at the stadium. LeGrand was
paralyzed from the neck down three years ago. There have been much better players than
LeGrand, a few of them like Ray Rice, are deserving of Rutgers immortality. But nobody
in the history of the program has ever had a better attitude than LeGrand. Ever.

His life was changed forever when he tried to make a tackle on a kick-off three years ago
against Army. One moment, he's a Division I college football player with a big future ahead
of him. The next moment, he's a paraplegic with virtually no chance of ever walking again.
Medical personnel would put that number at zero.

LeGrand doesn't care what anybody says. He, and probably he alone, believes he will
get out of his wheelchair and walk again. I've seldom seen a picture of LeGrand without
that mega-watt grin on his face. He is always happy. It's not an act for the cameras or the
fans around him. LeGrand is truly a happy man. One who laughs in the face of adversity,
while giving others like him real hope.

LeGrand is living his life the way he wants to live it now. He's a motivational speaker,
a football analyst on the radio, and the voice of the 1.5 million people in the United States
who are paralyzed in some way.

He won't quit. He knows he can't. LeGrand is not just a hero to people in wheelchairs,
but to those who often feel sorry for themselves. Hey, life can be hard. We all now that.
But how can anybody feel sorry for themselves when they see the attitude of a man who
has lost so much and keeps on pushing?

Eric LeGrand was the best player on the field on Saturday. It was his day, his moment, and
one that he deserved to have.

TOM BRADY IS A WICKED LOSAH!

Boston is the greatest sports town in the country, but its fans can sometimes be the worst.
They overreact so badly, it's almost comical. Their knee-jerk reaction could send a football
through the uprights from 80 yards out. Want proof? All you have to do is listen to sports talk
radio in Boston or read all the threads about Tom Brady and his performance against
the New York Jets on Thursday night.

The Patriots quarterback pretty much came unglued as his receivers dropped passes, ran the
wrong routes, and looked at his wife Gisele the wrong way. OK, so the last one didn't happen,
but Brady looked like he was going to go all Mike Rice on his teammates and hurl footballs
at them from close range on the sideline.

In his 14-year career, Brady has dressed down his receivers for blown assignments and dropping
passes before, but nothing like we saw on Thursday night. There were eye-rolls, head shakes, gestures with his hands, and screams at the top of his lungs. His favorite cuddly security blanket,
Wes  Welker is gone. The Gronk is still recovering from injury, Aaron Hernandez is sitting in
prison with all his tattoos, and Danny "China Doll" Amendola is hurt for the 238th time in his
career. It's as if Brady knows that Reche Caldwell, David Terrell, and Bethel Johnson are not
walking through that door, and he's a little pissed.

Brady re-structured his contract to free up money to re-sign Wes Welker and a few other stud
receivers and this is what Belichick gives him? Aaron Dobson and Kenbrell Thompkins? You'd
be rather pissed off, too. I almost thought Brady was going to bolt a GPS device to the helmet
of Dobson to give him an idea of where to go. If Dobson wasn't a second-round pick, which is
a miracle in itself, he'd be on the unemployment line today keeping Ochocinco company.

Patriots fans are blasting Brady for his pouting, ranting, and for showing up nearly everyone
outside of Robert Kraft. He was far from perfect, they say, overshooting Julian Edelman for
a sure touchdown pass.

Patriots fans: calm the heck down! Brady had a bad game all-around. His throwing, his
demeanor, all of his actions were un-Brady-like. It happens and yes, even to Mr. Wonderful,
Tom Brady. The Patriots have won a ridiculous 77 percent of its games with Brady as the
starting quarterback. He's driven to win, driven to be perfect. It's why the Patriots have won
10 or more games for 10 consecutive games which is incredible.

The Patriots are 2-0 with two division wins. They will be fine. Amendola and the Gronk will
be back soon and the offense will return to normal soon enough. If Brady could win while
throwing to Caldwell and a bunch of misfits seven years ago, he can surely win with this cast
of characters.

Relax, Boston, the Patriots are 2-0, not 0-2. You don't live in Jacksonville, where the Jaguars
have a guy named Blaine Gabbert at quarterback and that makes you already mathematically
eliminated. Things are going to be just fine, Boston. In your city, they usually are.

PAT TILLMAN: A CASUALTY OF 9/11 AND TRUE HERO

Pat Tillman didn't die on 9/11, but like thousands upon thousands of Americans, he died
because of it. Tillman, who was playing with the Arizona Cardinals, was so deeply affected
by the terrorist strikes on our home soil, he gave up his NFL career to enlist in the service
and fight for his country.

"Football's not important to me, serving my country is," Tillman said in 2002. It may not
have been important to Tillman, but it had been what defined him. He went to Arizona
State and was the 1997 Pac-10 Defensive Player of the Year as an undersized linebacker.
Tillman didn't have need any change of address cards as the Cardinals, who shared Sun
Devil Stadium with ASU, drafted him in 1998.

A free-spirit, Tillman was converted to free safety by the Cardinals and earned a reputation
as one of the fiercest hitters in the NFL. At one point in his career, Tillman turned down a
5-year, $9 million offer from the St. Louis Rams out of loyalty to the Cardinals.

But that show of loyalty was nothing compared to Tillman's belief that he should fight for
his country. There have been other professional athletes who had their careers interrupted
by a military obligation, but few chose to join the service under their own volition.

Tillman turned his back on a life that most people can only dream of. He was playing in
the NFL and making a good living at. He had the glory, the adulation, and a great future.
9/11 changed all that for Tillman. Despite getting a 3-year, $9 million offer from the Cardinals,
Tillman turned in his football gear for that of an Army Ranger.

How many people would even think about doing that? People say they love our country but
if there was a poll taken, that would probably rank after our love for money, power, sex,
Facebook, and the iPad. And if 10,000 people were asked if they'd give up all that Tillman did
to serve our country, every one of them would've said, "Hell, no! Are you crazy, because
I'm not."

Tillman sacrificed everything. His job, his career, and even his marriage. He got married
to his longtime girlfriend just before enlisting in the military in May of 2002.

Along with his brother, Kevin,  Tillman became a Ranger and went on a few missions before
he was killed by his own battalion in a dangerous canyon in Afghanistan on April 22, 2004.
It was sad, tragic, and made even worse because the government lied to everybody at first,
saying that Tillman  was a hero and killed by enemy forces. But what Tilman did, giving up
the riches and the good life of the NFL, to serve our country should be admired. He should be remembered  along with the others who fought and died in wars that tried to rid evil and
destruction.

Nobody at Arizona State has forgotten Tillman. They have constructed the Tillman Tunnel
where he will be the last thing players see before going onto the field to take on an opponent.
It's a breathtaking tribute to a man who made the ultimate sacrifice.

As much as people want to make sports bigger than life, it's not. I often shake my head in
disbelief when I here an announcer call a player a "hero" because he threw a game-winning
touchdown pass. I shake my head when they describe a player as having "courage" because
he went over the middle and took a big hit from an opponent. I laugh when they say that
a team has to play "like there is no tomorrow." It's just a bunch of guys playing a kids game,
for crying out loud. Nobody dies.

Pat Tillman is the definition of a true hero, one who showed unbelievable courage im not
only give up the good life, but in fighting for our country. Unfortunately, there never would
be a tomorrow for him. Tillman's life ended tragically in Afghanistan nine years ago.

Tillman, along with all the victims who perished on this day 16 years ago, as well as those
who lost their lives fighting for our country, should always been remembered. Not just on
9/11, but every single day.

THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING FAT GUY

I was fat.

No, I wasn't Chris Christie fat. But when I went home for Christmas dinner, my mom jokingly
asked, "Who invited John Daly? Where is my son?", I knew I wasn't ready to do a photo shoot
for Speedo.

With that harsh dose of reality belting me in the face by my sweet mother, I made my New Year's resolutions, which included dropping 15 pounds. That lasted for about three days as I shattered the guidelines I put down in writing to accomplish that goal. No drinking? Busted. No pizza? Who's kidding who? Working out everyday? Pfffft!

I'll admit it. My one true talent in life is my ability to eat. If I put my mind and mouth to it,
I have little doubt that I could end Joey Chestnut's reign as the hot dog eating champion. I am
that good. If it's not nailed down or moving, I eat it. Giving that up, is not easy. Neither is
trying to get to the gym every day.

I hit rock bottom on February 10 after finishing off two large pizzas and a few pitchers of beer
with some friends. I looked in the mirror and what I saw staring back at me was not pretty.
Forget about a double-chin, my chin and neck had morphed into one. My love handles were
so pronounced that if they had bolted me to an auxillary boat on the Titanic, I would have
saved six additional lives.

FEBRUARY 238 LBS

I tipped the scales at 238, which is great for an NFL tight end, but not good for someone
nearing 50-years old with knees that barked at him every day. Losing weight at this age isn't
easy, either. Metabolism slows to a crawl and motivation comes and goes like men go in and
out of Madonna's bedroom.

I had no choice but to go all in.

Lent was just three days away and I decided to make a lot of sacrifices. To Catholics, Lent
is a period  of six weeks where the faithful commit to fasting or giving up certain types of
luxuries as a form of penitence. Yeah, I had been bad and could use some  self-denial.
I never denied that I was a little  plump and needed to do something extreme. So, I denied
myself of everything bad like booze, bread, butter, baked goods, and anything from Baskin
Robbins for forty days.

MAY 225 LBS

There would be no short cuts like stomach-staples, lap-bands, nutri-slim, nutri-fast, or diets
named after cities or famous doctors. This would be done the old-fashioned way.

I  committed to a hard-core fitness program and was on my way. Those who've read my blog
in the past know that I've battled the bulge with different types of regimes. In 2012, it was
Gorilla training with some yoga mixed in for flexibility and spiritual cleansing. I got in
shape to do half-ironman triathlons, but I never lost as much weight as I had hope to.

This time around, I took up the Forest Gump distance program. I just kept running and
running, until I didn't feel like running no mo'.  Jen-aaaay would've loved that I signed up
for half-marathons in Sleepy Hollow, Brooklyn, Lake Placid, Danbury, Fairfield and Vermont,
and completed them all. Lent ended with Easter and by May, I was down to 225lbs. I felt
much better and my knees stopped barking at me so much. I still had a ways to go to where
I wanted to be, though. When  you eat a plate of pasta at this age, you can add on five
pounds pretty quickly.

Unlike Forest, I haven't stopped running. I also cut out dairy from my diet and tried to stay
away from anything with sugar in it. I continued to deny myself of booze and all the bad stuff
I listed. What did I eat? Chicken, chicken, and more chicken. When I collected enough food
stamps, I sprang for a steak once in a while, but it's mostly been chicken and protein shakes.

JUNE 16 219 LBS

I broke the 220 barrier in mid-June and that was cause for celebration. I hadn't seen a 1 after
the first 2 in a long, long time. One chin down, one to go. No booze, bread, butter, and sweets
and a whole lot of running for four months got me down to 219. My next goal was 210 pounds,
which I hadn't been since I was hanging out with Kevin Costner and talking a little baseball in
1988. Yeah, it was that long ago.

September 1 was my target day for hitting the 210 mark. I did more of the same to try to
get there. Running, running, and more running, plus I mixed in long-distance bike rides and swimming. Sugars ands sweets didn't entice me at all. I began to wonder why the heck I
even ate donuts,  bagels, and Twinkies in the first place. They are pure poison.

SEPTEMBER 209 LBS.

On September 1, I did it. I tipped the scales at 209. That's down 29 pounds since February
10. I didn't even have a double-scoop of chocolate mint chip to celebrate. I'm happy, but I'm
not done. I'd like to get down to 205 by November 1. Everything is easier when you're lighter
Running doesn't hurt as much and since I no longer have to wear a sign that says. "extra wide
load" when I bike, going up hills isn't all that tough anymore.

My pants are actually loose, and I've found that woman between the ages of 85 and 100 have
begun to flock to a slimmer me.

Yes, being lighter sure has its benefits.

DIANA NYAD AND THE 'CRYING GAME'

 

 

OK, I get it. Athletes and cheating go together like Facebook and our addiction to social
media. Ben Johnson, Marion Jones, SpyGate, name a school on NCAA probation, Lance
Armstrong, A-Rod, NASCAR crews, etc. The list of cheaters in sports is longer than the
Great Wall of China. Heck, even the Chinese badminton team lost on purpose to try to get a
better seed in the London Olympic games.

Cheating has become so prevalent in sports that everyone has become a suspect, especially
when a great feat is accomplished.

Last Monday, 64-year old Diana Nyad, accomplished something truly special when she
became the first person to swim from Cuba to the Florida without a shark cage.

Now, there are skeptics who don't think Nyad's 103-mile swim is legit. Shocking.

A small group of marathon swimmers and their officials don't think a lot of things add
up in Nyad's swim. They are questioning why an independent observer wasn't on her boat
to document every aspect of her swim from her strokes per minute to the number of times
she ate and drink.

There are numbers geeks who have studied the GPS coordinates of Nyad's swim and don't
think everything is on the up and up. Some don't think Nyad followed the English Channel
swim protocol that says you can't wear a special suit, mask, touch the boat or get any kind
of assistance. I'm sure they think Nyad was probably linked to Anthony Bosch and the
Biogenesis Clinic in Miami, too.

My response? Stop, just stop it. Go home and get a life.

Here is a woman who swam 53 hours in flat-out scary waters and did it without a shark
cage and now people want to discredit. Nyad and Nyad alone did the swim. If they are
so obsessed with Nyad's "honesty" then they should get in the water and see if they can
do it. I'll get in my dingy and be their guide. I'll count all your strokes, rub sunscreen on
your face, and even feed you.

Nyad's swim wasn't so much about being "the first", but about the journey. It was about
failing again and again and again and again, and coming back to try until she made it. She
didn't quit and persevered when the odds were stacked against her.

Does this marathon swimming group think that Nyad is the Rosie Ruiz of open water
swimming? Rosie was the runner who hopped on the T in Boston on her way to winning
the Boston Marathon in 1980. Do they think Nyad boarded a nuclear submarine under the
cover of darkness to take her closer to her destination? Do they think that Nyad put fins
on when she wasn't supposed to? Good, Lord.

She swam more than 100 miles! What the heck were you doing during that time? How
come that marathon swimming group didn't beat Nyad to being "the first" to do it without
a cage?

This is what many of the people in our country do. They weren't the first, so they try to
discredit the people who were. They are the armchairs quarterbacks who never played the
game, or weren't good enough to, but they somehow think they can do it better than
the people who are actually in the arena competing.

Fans watching a baseball game see there favorite player swing at a pitch out of the strike
zone and they yell, "What the hell are you swinging at? I wouldn't have swung at that."
Yeah, except that you weren't good enough to get in there against Justin Verlander who
is throwing 98-miles-an-hour with wicked breaking stuff. Yeah, it looks oh so easy on
television.

Nyad did something truly incredible. I don't care if she hung on the side of a boat for
five minutes. Big whoop-de-do. I don't care if she had streamers guiding her at night. Did
that help her physically to finish the swim? Again, Nyad swam more than 100-miles in
the ocean with sharks and who knows what else.

Leave Nyad and her record alone. She got into the ocean, not you, and did what had
never been done before.  Go spend some more time swimming in the ocean than trying
to discredit someone who wanted it more than you did.

TILLMAN TUNNEL: A REFRESHER FOR COLLEGE SPORTS

Breathtaking.

That's how I'd describe the new "Tillman Tunnel"  produced by Arizona State inside
Sun Devil Stadium, the place where Pat Tilman became a Pac-10 star. But it was Tillman's
commitment to his country, not his college that made him a hero, and paying the ultimate
price made Tillman a legend.

In a college sports world that has been dripping in scandal from Penn State to Rutgers to
the never-ending saga of Johnny Manziel, the tribute to Tillman is like the industrial cleaner
used to wipe away the grease and grime.

This is so right, so refreshing, and so perfectly done.

The administration at Arizona State made the ultimate tribute to a man who made the ultimate
sacrifice for his country. Tillman was killed by friendly fire during a mission in Afghanistan in
2004. The former undersized linebacker at Arizona State, became a star in the NFL as a safety
with the Arizona Cardinals. He turned his back on multi-million dollar contract that would have
set him up for life, to serve the United States after seeing what the terrorist attacks had done to the
soul of this country.

Tillman was a symbol of heart, courage, and character, which is something that's been sorely
missing in the sports world. He was a free spirit who did things his own way on his own time.

He was a true leader, one that did not crave attention or pound his chest in this "look at me,
aren't I great?" world. Tillman led by example.

Perhaps, that is why Arizona State thought it was appropriate that Tillman lead the Sun Devils
out of the tunnel and onto the field, forever. When the Sun Devils run out to meet their opponent,
they will run through Tillman, touching the image of a man, who was everything good about
college and professional sports, and everything right when it comes to character.

There are other great traditions in college football like the touching of Howard's Rock at
Clemson and the Notre Dame players tapping the sign, "Play Like A Champion Today". But
my new favorite one starts for me this weekend, when Arizona State runs through the new
"Tillman Tunnel" to take on Wisconsin.

Well done, Arizona State, well done.