Helping Those Who Help Themselves

Editor's Note: This article originally ran February 13, 2007
The hot dog was dripping with ketchup and mustard. And every bit of it was slowly rolling down the length of the dog as former East Laurens head coach Charles Turner talked-it-up with friends inside the Falcon concession stand Saturday.
A bite here or there was spaced between some laughs and quick remarks about this and that. All the while, the ketchup and mustard kept rolling downhill toward the paper towel that offered the only protection for Turner's right hand.
With only the region tournament left to play, the Lady Falcons have spent one whole season without their former floor leader, who stepped down last year after more than 20 years as head coach.
A third battle with cancer and an aging frame forced Turner to step away from the bench and into the stands. And oh yes, he's always in the stands. Every Lady Falcon home game Turner can be found sitting just above the scorers table, watching his former players go up and down the court. (And nearly every chance he gets, Turner makes his way out to West Laurens to watch his daughter Luciana-an assistant with the Lady Raiders)
It's all he can do to keep from piping up occasionally. You can take the coach out of the game, but you can't take the game out of the coach.
"It's rough sometimes," Turner said. "I'm like every other coach. I'd rather be out there coaching, but it was time to move on and I had to give my body a rest."
Rest is something Turner has rarely known.
A career spent in the Navy taught him hard work and discipline; qualities he's imparted to three generations of Lady Falcons, and a host of youngsters that passed through East Laurens Middle School.
There was nothing Turner couldn't do. A physical fitness fanatic, Turner was known for his one-handed pushups and focus on keeping kids active long before Arnold Schwarzenegger joined forces with the President's Council on Physical Fitness.
"Yeah, I always demonstrated whatever we were doing," Turner said. "The worst was gymnastics. None of the kids wanted to do it. They all thought they were going to get hurt. So I showed 'em. And you know what. By the time it was all said and done, they were all saying 'When are we going to do gymnastics? Can we do that now?'"
Current Lady Raider head coach Brian Howell knows all too well about Turner, and the respect he commanded at ELMS. Howell was one of his students, and Turner taught the youngster lessons about life and respect; respect he still pays Turner to this day.
"Man, he had me feeling bad the other day," said Howell with a chuckle. "I wore jeans to the game the other night. And he came up to me and said, 'Come on coach, you know better than that.' It had me feeling so bad I wanted to run home and change clothes."
And on the court Turner always started a competitive, feisty bunch that was rarely out of a game. In 19 years with the Lady Falcons he never had a losing season, and it was all do to a will-to-win that Turner imparted on all his players.
That will is what has helped Turner and his body in his third bout with cancer. At one point last year, Turner had more than 32,000 cancer cells invading his body; now the figure has plummeted to 640.
"It's good news," Turner said. "I've been doing pretty good. I just get a little winded."
Like when Turner goes out each day to pick up his allotment of firewood. In the past, Turner could gather and carry all he needed. Now, he's had to make a few changes, using a pull-cart to cut down on the wear-and-tear of the extra weight.
"I've been blessed," he said. "And I'm just going to need folks to keep praying for me, cause it's worked so far."
But back to the hot dog.
The ketchup finally breached the thin layer of paper towel and leaked onto the palm of Turner's hand. And as the coach searched frantically for an extra towel, he inadvertently knocked over an open Coke bottle, sending a couple ounces of soda onto the floor.
Several folks offered to give Turner a hand in cleaning up the mess, but he said it was his and he'd take care of it.
So, with a pile of towels in his left hand and the still-dripping hot dog in his right, Turner wiped the floor dry and went back to finishing his dinner.
Folks like Turner rarely ask for a hand, which makes it all that more important that we give him a hand for what he's meant to East Laurens athletics and our community.
---
UPDATE: After several recurring bouts with cancer, Turner has returned part-time to East Laurens High School as a girls weight lifting coach. He says he feels "good" and is looking to continue living a normal, and hopefully one day, cancer-free life.

Check out www.cancer.org for more information on this weekend's Relay for Life at West Laurens High School.

The first video blog

Brian VanGorder: Literal Translation

(Photo courtesy/atlantafalcons.com)
I had imagined this whole blog about the Falcons 2008 schedule. But regardless of whether Matt Ryan is leading the offense, or Glenn Dorsey is leading the defense, does anybody care that Atlanta is opening at home against the Lions?
Thank God for Brian VanGorder. (Didn't expect that to ever come out of my mouth, did you?)
In an Associated Press piece written by George Henry, VanGorder found a way to paint himself as a football journeyman searching for steady work, and most important, a settled life for his caravaning family.
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
When you look a little deeper at what VanGorder said in the article, you see that he's less like a leader of one of the lost tribes of Israel, and more like a teenager job-hopping between summer jobs.
I looked online through Rosetta Stone, Babelfish, even Muzzy, but couldn't find any literal translation software to accomodate the task at hand.
So I invented my own BS-to-English Dictionary and Phrase Book specifically for VanGorder.
It took hours of hard work (actually about five minutes, with breaks in-between to listen to W. stumble over his introduction of Pope Benedict XVI. "Welcome to Amurika, your Holy Sepulchur-ness. I would greatly enjoy an opportunity to break bread with you, but you know we use Texas Toast at the White House instead of those little wafers. Don't mess with Texas.")
Let's take a look at what VanGorder said, and then see what he really meant:

No. 1: ‘‘What we’re looking for is to help our players understand the terminology of the scheme. We want them to be able to (get to) the ball and not be paralyzed by a new language.’’
Translation: Dear Mr. Belichick, by simply looking at my use of words like "terminology" and "language," it's easy to see that I am more than qualified to be your linebackers coach. I also like cut-off pullovers, and wear them regularly during my morning jog.

After holding six different jobs for five teams over the past four years, including one season as head coach of the Georgia Southern Eagles, VanGorder bailed on the Falcons Dec. 19 to take the defensive coordinator's post at South Carolina, only to leave four weeks later to return to the Falcons as their new defensive coordinator.
No. 2: ‘‘You know, as I look at my career, I made one questionable decision, but I still look at that as a positive. It was a good experience. Wherever you are, you meet good people, and I choose to look at all these experiences as being positive.’’
Translation: I'm a chameleon. You ever seen one of 'em? They can be anything they want. I heard one time a chameleon turned into a large order of McDonald's french fries, but had to change back because it contained trans-fatty oils.
You have to be ready for change. Just like I changed Georgia Southern from perennial playoff contender to door mat in one season. But who am I kidding, I got tired of talking to the old men at Snooky's, and the college crowds at El Sombrero made it impossible for me to relax in front of my plate of chiles rellenos. And the only guy I liked was the door greeter at the Super Wal-Mart.

No. 3: ‘‘My situation last year was one that I just didn’t have any control of with Bobby leaving. The tough thing for me as a father of my five children, we’ve had to move around, change schools and my wife’s had to start anew in communities with friendships and those sorts of things. Coaching football is coaching football. We can really do that anywhere, but my family — that’s the part that’s been really difficult.’’
Translation: Sure I may have spent the last six months sleeping on the sofa in the movie room of my 7,000 sq. ft. Gwinnett home, but in the end: It's all about the caysh!

No. 4: ‘‘Fortunately, being in the Jacksonville system, it’s not a difficult transition for me. From where I stand and from where my eyes are, I’m a little bit on the run because I’ve been so focused on linebackers.’’
Translation: I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing. In fact, just the other day, I had to borrow my son's copy of Madden NFL '07 to figure out what "Cover 2" meant.

No. 5: ‘‘It’s a privilege to work in the National Football League. It’s a privilege to coach football for a living. I love it out here.’’
Translation: Here, I got 25, 25, 25, 25. Do I hear 30, 30, 30, 30? 30, 30, 30? I got 30. Do I hear 35, 35, 35, 35?

Anthony Johnson: The Whole Story

The following is a complete transcript from a recent interview with former West Laurens two-time state champion wrestler and current 170 lbs. UFC fighter Anthony Johnson.

How crazy have the last couple years been for you?

Naw, after completing my goal of winning a national championship in college I really didn't know what I wanted to do. But I knew I wanted to keep doing some type of sport; something physical.

And once my neighbor in Susanville convinced me to finally check out his gym; I checked it out and fell in love with it and stuck with it.

As different as Mixed Martial Arts can be, did wrestling prepare you for the Octagon?

Oh man, wrestling helped me out so much. The majority of wrestlers, we learn pretty fast, and we have such mental toughness that it's hard to break us. We're always willing to learn different stuff to challenge ourselves and our bodies.

If you look into the UFC history, the majority of the champions have been wrestlers. Like Chuck Liddell wrestled at Cal-Poly in California. Everybody knows Chuck Liddell. Randy Couture wrestled in college. Everybody knows Randy Couture. Sean Shirk-155 lbs. champion. Matt Hughes was the 170 lbs. champion for a long time and he wrestled in college. The list goes on. And everbody coming seems to have gotten their start in wrestling.

And for all those guys doing Jujitsu, they have a hard time with wrestlers because we have such a good, solid base. It's hard to submit us. I wouldn't say wrestlers are like strong, as far as lifting weights, we just have that joint strength. We don't stay stiff.

Whatever you bring to the table, we're prepared for it. It's easier to learn how to box than to wrestle. We can adapt. From wrestling to boxing is no problem, but it's harder to adapt from boxing to wrestling.

Being over 6-feet tall, does your height work as an advantage or disadvantage?

Not at all, being tall has always been an advantage. It helped me out tremendously. Being tall or short to me doesn't matter. It depends on how you use it. I use my height and my length to my advantage, and it worked out perfect for me.

What did your family think when you first considered MMA?

Well my grand dad, like all men, he was down for it like "Go Ahead!" Men are real hard corps, but you know my grandmother supports me 110 percent. But you know how women are, they're like "Don't hurt my baby." Or "I don't want to see any blood."

But overall my family, they loved it. Like they've always told me, "Go out there and do your best."

All my life I've gone out there and done my best and I've been successful at what I do. And even in this sport, it's something new, but they still support me and expect me to do my best. So I give it my all.

This doesn't deal specifically with UFC, but what would you say has been your proudest moment thus far?

The proudest moment of my life, honestly, there have been a few that stick out pretty good. I would say when I won my first state championship as a junior. Both state championships in high school were some of my biggest moments, because my grand dad was with me the whole way.

I started out with coach (Clifford) Garnto when I was eight years old, and then, when I ended my high school career, who was right there in my corner? Still coach Garnto and Gerald Carr.

And I admired coach Carr when I was growing up. So I had two of the best coaches that anybody could ever have. And obviously I had Laurens County and Dublin behind me.

And then my national championship in college. That was the last time I stepped on a wrestling mat. And my grand dad saw me wrestle. Those were the biggest moments of my career.

I had great moments with football, but nothing beats that wrestling. And I had all the love and support anybody could have. So far, my wrestling has been the place for my biggest memories.

How difficult  was it to acclimate to the Octagon, and your approach to your opponents the last couple years?

It's different, obviously. You're locked up in a cage like a wild animal. You can't go anywhere. In wrestling, if somebody shoots on you, you can like run off the mat if you want to. But in the Octagon they've got you up against the cage; you have to defend everything. It's all about "Who's the better man that night?"

It really didn't take me long to adjust to it at all. I'm one of those people who tries to stay in the middle of the ring regardless. I don't try to get my back up against the fence at all.

I remember the first fight that I ever got to watch involved Chuck Liddell, who lost like in 40 seconds to somebody.

He lost to Rampage. Rampage went to the same college I went to. I think he was teammates with Gerald Carr.

Oh my God. Small world?

I'm not sure. But me and Rampage are good friends. We sit back and talk. He's a great guy, and it's amazing the people you meet and the things you go through to get where you want to in life.

Talk to me about being a country boy from Laurens County and moving to L.A. That had to be a culture shock for you?

Not really. I'm one of those guys who just goes with the flow. L.A. is a big party place, and I'm definitely not the partying type. My schedule consists of me waking up, eating breakfast, going to training and coming back home-Go to training again, come back home and go to sleep.

And on the weekends I work. I bounce at the clubs and stuff, but you won't see me in there dancing. I have a good time; I'm social. I talk to anybody.

But you're just trying to do your job.

I just do my job and my own thing. And I don't worry about anyone else.

L.A. is a different place?

I've been all over California and the U.S., but there's nothing like L.A.; L.A. is L.A. My best friends calls me Hollywood. I don't care what they call me, but what I tell everybody is that what you see on TV isn't what it's really like. It's a nice place, but only in certain areas, just like in Dublin. On TV they show you Hollywood Blvd. and Beverly Hills. They don't show you Compton and all that other stuff. Or South Central, but they show you parts that you want to see.

It's funny you talk about South Central. When we were moving out to Georgia-I was about 12 years old-my dad made a wrong turn. And were stuck, in a station wagon with a trailer on the back, going through South Central. And it was about 10:30 at night. And my dad actually had to ask a hooker for directions. I woke up trying to figure out why we were still in L.A., and my mom just started laughing and goes: "Your father was busy talking to a woman of the night." And I went: "What?"

South Central is not a good place to be.

I've seen Friday enough times to know where I need to be.

If I want to see South Central I'll just toos in that movie.

I know the sky is the limit, but what are some goals you're trying to reach over the next couple years?

Obviously I want to win that UFC title, but the weight class is so stacked it's going to be a while.

And right now my main focus is to live life to the fullest, and to train to try and win that belt. I've trained with some of the best and held my own. Like Vandelay Silva. He's known all around the world, and I held my own. He didn't smack me around or submit me; none of that. He gave me props.

Then I worked out with a guy named Sonny Carter, "Mr. International." I trained with Shogun, and Shogun's brother Ninja. These guys were like world champions. And Josh Barnett.

Josh Barnett has beaten Randy Couture before. If I can get in Josh Barnett's head, and he's 6' 3" 260 lbs. and a world class wrestler? If I can frustrate him?

When I was training with him I was losing weight for this fight, so I was only like 190 lbs., even though he threw me like twice. I ain't gonna tell you no story. But what do you expect from a guy who's 260 lbs.?

But at the end of the day I got his respect.

...And if I can handle my own with all these world class guys, then I can handle my own with these guys already in my weight class. Like John Finch, and I've trained with him and gotten the best of John with the stand-up part.

If I can hang with all these guys, I know I've got the potential.

And I know I'm gonna get that title. I'm just gonna keep going all out. That's how my grand dad raised me: Never settle for less.

Right before my grand dad passed, he asked me "when" was I going back to California. I told him I was leaving next Wednesday, and I asked him, "You and Mom gonna be all right.'

But one thing he told me that stuck out he said: "Fight the person across the ring from you like you're fighting a lion."

And that's what I do: Fightin like they're trying to kill me. I have respect for them, but I've got that on and off switch.

It's a big step for me, man.

And in the future, I promise the state of Georgia and Dublin that one day everything's going to work out. And I'm gonna get that title and put Dublin, GA on the map.

Braves may be 10th on MLB's payroll list, but you'll never guess who's costing the Braves a shot at the playoffs

So on top of being one of the most annoying celebrities, let alone baseball players, on earth, the AP released an already known fact that A-Rod was the highest paid player in Major League Baseball.
It's pretty hard to believe that one guy is making $7 million more than an entire team-the Florida Marlins-but at roughly $28 million Stray-Rod has more bank rolling in that the entire Florida Marlin opening day roster...including the guys on the disabled list.
It only proves that you, me and everyone else reading this stinking blog either picked the wrong profession, or weren't blessed with a dip in the Herculean gene pool.
But looking past A-Rod, the Yankees $200-plus payroll (which includes the top three salaries in baseball: A-Rod, Jason Giambi and Derek Jeter), and scrolling down the pile of MLB clubs you come across our lowly Atlanta Braves, who, at a respectable 10th place finish are projected to pay out $102,424,018 this season.
With four playoff spots per league, and the AL holding six of the top 10 slots, my six year-old should be able to figure out that the math in the ledger sure ain't adding up in the standings.
The Braves have been on a downturn ever since Ted Turner sold off to Time Warner, divorced Hanoi Jane and started giving his billions away to hopeless causes instead of World Series-caliber talent.
And with Atlanta's most recent sale to Liberty Media, not only should we expect player deals to look more like late afternoon dealings at a flea market ("I'll give $2.50 for that garden hoe, that's the best I can do.") I'm sure the new ownership is going to try to use the logic of small-market clubs like Colorado, Arizona and Cleveland to farm-in talent before shipping them down the road.
Minnesota and Oakland were like those 19 year-olds that still hung out at the high school parking lot in their "Rad" '89 Camaro: "Get 'em young, and send 'em on."
And without sounding too much like a dog, I'm fine with that. Only until I glanced at how and where the Braves are spending the bulk of that $100 million-plus this year.
Scanning the top 5 salaries on the Atlanta payroll, the names roll off the tongue:
5. (Tie): Mark Kotsay, John Smoltz: $8,000,000
No brainer there. Kotsay was a top-notch player for the A's (told ya') and Smoltz is the undeniable ace for the Braves staff. (Who would think, 17 years after pitching the Braves into the playoffs for the first time in ages, the Tigers' prospect would still be the most dominant pitcher in Atlanta?)
4. Tim Hudson: $8,500,000
A little pricey, but still fits with market value for a No. 1 or No. 2 pitcher. I've compared Huddy to any sequel or threequel: never can live up to the buildup.
3. Mark Teixeira: $9,000,000
Essentially the Braves pulled off a rare steal, similar to how Bob Barker could always get the wheel to click over one more spot to the $1.00 so the old lady would beat out the crazy frat guy for the final slot in the showcase showdown. Even though the frat guy definitely needed "A New Car!" much more than Aunt Bernice, it made for better TV when Berny cried with joy as Barker shouted: "Help Control the Pet Population: Have your pet spayed or neutered."
Market value on Teixeira should be around the $10,000,000 to $12,000,000 mark, but having somebody who essentially was homegrown by Georgia Tech and feels a little nostalgic, helped Atlanta frame up one of the better outfields in the East.
2. Chipper Jones: $12,333,333
To anyone outside of Atlanta, Chipper Jones is the face of the Braves. And therefore, even with diminishing numbers (not discounting his batting avg. last season) and a slower first step at third, Jones is making bank he earned during those early years when his name sat behind the Justice's, the Maddux's and the McGriff's of Braves' past. From a strictly financial sense, Chipper is going to make back every dime with exposure (ESPN loves the guy), and marketing revenue. From a baseball perspective, he's a crafty veteran who can offer just as much to young guys like Francouer in the dugout, as he will at the plate or in the field.
1. DRUM ROLL PLEASE!!!
HERE IT COMES...
WAIT FOR IT...WAIT FOR IT...
Mike Hampton: $15,475, 185
Yes, the man who hasn't thrown in two years, been hampered by not one, but two separate elbow injuries and hasn't pitched to more than a .500 record since '99 is making 386 times more money than the guy managing your Kroger. Give me a frigging break! When I saw that expletives started jumping in my mind like Pop Rocks mixed with Coke.
Subtract Hampton's salary and the Braves fall between Houston and Milwaukee-makes more sense-but still ahead of playoff contenders like Philly, Milwaukee, Cleveland, San Diego (If Hoffman don't choke again), Colorado and Arizona.
Oh it's so aggravating! The Braves won't shore up their bullpen with any proven lefties or dominant closers, but we will sit on a $15,000,000 contract in hopes that some guy who won the lottery by having ONE good year will "regain his old form?"
Geez.
And that's the reason my six year old won't be sitting in any MLB front office any day soon. Because he, along with everyone else in the rational world, would see that if a person isn't being productive because of injury, they should be drawing disability and not a paycheck.
Denying Hampton yet another "second chance" would free up some cash for Atlanta to make two or three additions that could be the difference between actually winning the NL East like ESPN swears they're going to do, or simply pushing Smoltz 162 games closer to retirement.
The question that has to be asked is: "At what point do the Braves realize that Hampton's ailments are hurting Atlanta's hopes of ever returning to dominance?"

Throw the bracket in the trash

Ever been royally punked out by a bud?
And I'm not just talking about something stupid like your friend choosing the 6' 4" dude instead of you for that game of pick-up hoops. Or even promising to pay for lunch, until he opens up an empty wallet and asks you "Hey man, mind picking up the tab? I promise I'll pay next time."
I'm talking about cold-blooded punkout.
Like stealing your old lady out from under you, or telling the cops: "No officer, that's not my stash. It's his."
That's kinda how I felt Sunday when JT3 and his highly touted Hoyas succombed to little Stephen (pronounced Stefon) Curry and Davidson.
Davidson?
A school that sounds more like a character off One Life To Live is now two wins shy of advancing to the Final Four, but they've already been tagged as this year's "George Mason."
I really don't care, because Stephen murdered my bracket, and turned an otherwise pleasant weekend into one of pure disgust.
After Friday's final games of the first round, I was still alive with only five bad picks (or three, if you discount my joke upsets with Winthrop and this year's George Mason).
And most imortant, my Final Four was still alive.
After this weekend's brutality, my highlighter is just about dry.
I picked Georgetown to make it all the way to the finals, so toss that out the window.
I'm also a Tennessee two-step away from messing up even more of my bracket. And it's possible. With Memphis facing tournament-tested Tom Izzo and Michigan St. (And by the way, as a partial Italian American, should I be offended by Vitale continually referencing this game as the battle of the Pizans?) and Tennessee squaring off against Rick Pitino and a resurgent Louisville club, maybe I should just give up?
Naw!
I still have two of my picks to make the Final Four left in the field, and could still have six-of-eight left for the Regional Finals.
So I will trumpet on, fight the good fight and hope to death that dang UCLA won't blow it. (And wouldn't you know that Bob Knight is spreading the word that UCLA isn't all that talented, just well coached. Gee, coming from a coach? You don't say?)
Anyhow, here's my revised picks (I'm gonna win, even if it means a little white out here or there)

Clark's Bracketology

By JASON HALCOMBE
I was supposed to have spent the last half hour punching out 1,500 words about this Thursday's opening round of the mens NCAA tournament (did I really need that qualifier in front of NCAA?), and instead I spent the last 30 minutes trying to figure out what "Postscript error" meant and why it was forcing my computer to either: "Hold cue" "Try Again" or "Cancel This Job". At any rate, this half hour of aggravation got me to thinking, "Who really wants to read another 1,500 words about the tournament anyway?" So I figured I'd do something a little different (which would get out the door and in front of my lunch in time for lunch) and just show you who I picked. I've shown you my bracket, now show me yours. (email it)