Through death came life

Never did I think I'd cry conducting an interview. That all changed today.

I never knew that I'd have something in common with an 17 year old football player. He had a dad in and out of jail and so did I. He lost someone very close to pancreatic cancer, so did I. Except the person he lost was his dad. Though Duane's father was in and out of jail he strived to make sure he kept a relationship with Duane and his siblings.

That was good and bad at the same time.

With the lack of father figure in his life, Duane was not a likeable guy. He started fights, got suspended, had a haughty attitude...all the above. Then, on November 27, 2007 Duane's world was rocked. Three months prior, he found out that his dad was going to be released from prison. The most exciting news he had ever received. His dad was going to finally see him play football.

A bittersweet moment and he didn't even know it yet.

That same day he also found out that his dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. The night of November 27, 2007 he said, "Goodnight daddy, I love you..." and then he started to break down crying. "I'll see you tomorrow."

But there was no tomorrow he told me. Those were the last things he was able to say to his father.

Through death came life. A light bulb clicked and from that moment Duane Brady made a 360, in his personal life and on the football field. His coaches can attest. Once know as a big jerk, coaches and players hated to be around him, but now they can't get enough of him.

In his senior season of football at St. Augustine High School, he broke University of Florida's Brandon James' season rushing record. Everyone couldn't be prouder. As senior graduation nears in the next month or two, Duane will be embarking on a new journey at Murray St. in Kentucky.

He's an amazing young man and I can't wait to see how God will be using him.

Welcome to the 2010 season, Yankees

Welcome to the Trop, Yanks.

Please meet the team that's going to give you a run for your money this season. On first, you've got Carlos Pena, on second you'll be greeted by Sean Rodriguez and SS Jason Bartlett when they get you out on a 5-4-3 double play. If you make it to third, gold glove winner Longo will be glad to say hey. And if you dare to send your ball to the outfield, Carl Crawford, B.J Upton and Ben Zobrist will be glad to catch it for you.

Just thought I'd be polite in case you guys weren't familiar with each other.

Last night, the Yankees ventured to Tropicana Field in their first three-game series of the year. New York was no match for David Price and the Rays as Price pitched a pretty much flawless seven and two-thirds innings. Pena greeted pitcher Javier Vazquez with a two-run homer to tie the game and DH Willie Aybar another two-run homer for assurance.

The Rays have put together their best team to date. So watch out Yankee fans, you can't expect sure wins here.

He's gone Hey-wire

Two weeks from today, I'll be graduating college. I thought that was a big feat, until I watched opening week of baseball...the Atlanta Braves home opener against the Chicago Cubs. A twenty-year-old by the name of Jason Heyward starting in right field for the Braves. TWENTY-YEARS OLD and he's already starting in the majors. I'm twenty-one. To think of playing a professional sport and making millions at my age boggles my mind.

Ok, so yeah he's twenty-years-old, but what made his debut most remarkable is that he hit a grand slam on his first-ever at bat in the majors. A GRAND SLAM. Some veterans that have been playing the game for some time now are still looking for their first grand-slam.

Analysts say he has more patience beyond his playing years. At his first at bat he didn't come out swinging. Instead, he waited on the ball patiently until he saw his fastball cross the plate and he ripped it.

They say patience is a virtue. For him, patience will carve out a long-lived major league career.

The Invisible Man

If you were to look up invisible in the dictionary it would say: not perceptible by the eye or discernible by the mind. By definition, we know that Andy Hirko is not “invisible” because he is perceptible to the eye, he’s a person just like you and I. But who is this Andy Hirko?

In 1999, he stepped foot on Flagler College’s campus ready to take on every party and every girl. Hirko was a pitcher on a baseball scholarship, and just like most male athletes, thought he was hot stuff. He said he had his share of fun, but could feel he was lacking something, some kind of emptiness, but couldn’t put his finger on it at the time.

As he finished out his freshman year and entered his sophomore year, he started to take notice that his core group of friends had that something he was looking for.

“They had this joy and peace about life,” said Hirko.

So he asked them how he could get this same joy and peace. They told him that it was simple: there was this guy up in heaven that loved him so much and just wanted to have a relationship with him, just like a friend, but even better because he’s got so many connections to help him get through life.

“Now that I asked Jesus into my heart,” he told me, “I wanted to do it right. It was either all or nothing and I chose all.”

That’s the beginning of his “invisible” journey.

Hirko started the college ministry at Goodnews Church after graduation to reach out to kids like him.

“Many kids have a bad taste of church whether it be from a person or a past experience,” said Hirko, “But I’m just here to love and accept them for who they are. To show them that Jesus is love.”

Many don’t understand why he does what he does, like waiting outside of Panama Hattis until 1 a.m. to drive a bunch of drunk college students home for free. He’s got better things to do that night, like take care of his three-year-old daughter.

But it’s not about him.

The student at the bookstore at the beginning of the year couldn’t fathom why this stranger, Hirko, wanted to buy his semesters’ worth of books. Five hundred people wanted to know why he was handing out free Schmagel’s bagels. Dozens of kids on campus were scratching their heads when they were handed free whole pizzas, perfectly in tact.

“It’s all about love,” said Hirko.

Remember the bracelet WWJD, what would Jesus do? That’s Hirko’s mission. To show people Jesus is if he were with us today. A down to earth man who just wants to help you out through life, like your friend, but better because this friend would never stab you in the back or use you for what you’re worth. This friend wouldn’t ditch you when you did something you know you shouldn’t have done. Like a pet dog, this man would be a life-long companion.

This is no easy task, though, because so many people are skeptical of Christianity.

“We [the leadership team] just step out on faith that God will lead us where we need to go each day,” said Hirko. “I do it so they [college kids] have the chance to experience what I did, true peace and joy in life.”

What is that true peace and joy you might ask? It’s not fearing about the unknown that lies ahead. That job or career you don’t have yet, or that man or woman that hasn’t swept you off your feet yet. To a college student these are milestones in life after graduation, but he’s trying to show them that they don’t have to do it alone. There’s someone that wants to walk with them every step of the way.There are no gimmicks or strings attached to what Hirko does. He does it because he wants to. And that’s what is not discernible by the minds of today. Nobody just gives of his or her self these days. They’re usually in it for a prize or monetary gain, but not Hirko. He just wants to be invisible that others might see Jesus in human form.

Raised on a Dog Leash

Just in: attempting to do a load of laundry is just a stressful as trying to stop the war in Iraq.

In the sensible world, this isn’t the case. If President Obama had the choice between doing a load a laundry or trying to stop the war in Iraq, I’m pretty sure he’d pick the latter.

But in my case, my roommate freshman year thought that every task she had to do without the assistance from her mother was like trying to stop global warming— sheer impossible. It was second nature to me to have to do my own laundry, make my own living, do my own homework. My parents raised me to be self-reliant so I didn’t know anything different…until college that is.

I can remember it now. Move in day freshman year, each girl was nervous as can be, yet sizing each other up to see which would be their lucky roommate. You’d pass a gothic girl and be like “ oh God, I’ll go to church for the whole year as long as you don’t put me with her” or you pass a girl who looked like she didn’t know what a shower was and tell God you’d feed the hungry each week if he could spare you this once.

When I got to my third floor room I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. There stood a sweet and outgoing girl who I knew I’d click with instantly. In my head, I was thanking God a thousand times over, but may have said one too many prayers. When my roommate’s parents said their final good-byes, I was trying to reverse every thankful prayer I had said. A girl I thought was so vivacious and outgoing turned into the biggest basket case I had ever met. I’d call my mom several times a day, “Mom, what do I do? I can’t stop making her cry.”

“Now, now,” my mom would reply. “It’ can’t be so bad. Just be patient.”

“Mom, I suggested she do some laundry to take her mind off of home, but when she went to do her laundry, she just burst into tears from the mounds of stress to try to fathom doing it without her mom.”

This, my friends, is a severe case of what I’d like to call disfunctionitis. In laments terms, it’s where the parents caudle their child too long, to the point that they can’t fend for his or her self.

It’s funny to see how times have drastically changed. My mother is the first of five and growing up she was like the second mother around the house. From middle school on, she helped her mom cook, clean, iron…all the above. And today, most children don’t know the cardinal rule of washing laundry: never mix your whites and reds or you will end up with pinks.

I digress.

I think it’s great that parents are there for their kids to guide them through life, but they’ve got to know the difference between guiding and smothering. Guiding is when you walk down a path side by side, there to pick up your kid when he or she hits a bump or two. Smothering is like the poor kid whose parent buys a “dog leash” to walk him or her around. They’re able to control the distance their child goes, and is able to reel him or her back in when they don’t like what’s going on.

Ok, so I gave my roommate the benefit of the doubt. “She’s just really homesick,” I’d tell myself. Until she uttered this question: “Kristina, can you help me make a boxed cake?”

A BOXED cake? My blind grandmother can make a boxed cake. That’s the moment I realized my roommate was raised on a dog leash.

Singing the Blues and Oranges

So much for March Madness... my March has actually been a lack of madness. My bracket was screwed up from the onset with all the top seeds dropping like flies...so much for going for the highly-favored teams. I will never look at the odds again.

I made a bet with my uncle, who is a huge Georgia Bulldog fan and I'm a huge Gator fan, that if my brackets beat his then he has to wear a Tim Tebow jersey and if I lose, I have to put on a Georgia cheerleading uniform. I started to wallow in my sorrows because it's just NOT possible for a Gator fan to lose to a Georgia fan, but then Northern Iowa became my hero! Facing off against No. 1 seed Kansas, No. 9 seed Northern Iowa surprised 90 percent of America and upset the Jayhawks, including my uncle. There went his one bracket because he had Kansas going all the way. I felt on top of the world, yet another victory for the Gator fans.

But then came Butler and West Virginia. Butler came in and beat my No. 1 Syracuse Orange and West Virginia beat my No.1 Kentucky Wildcats. I had both making it to the finals in both of my brackets, 'Cuse winning it in one of my brackets and the Wildcats in the other....

And that ladies and gentlemen is why I'm singing the Blues and Oranges.

Moving on up

Listen up girls, there's a new, exciting element that will be added to ESPN this coming fall. It's called espnW. Yes, this will be a site dedicated to women and high school sports! How awesome is that?!

A big-time network is finally realizing the importance of women in sports. Through espnW they'll highlight top high school female athletes from around the country, in various sports.

It's still in the making and am not sure everything it'll entail, but it just excites me that high school girls will have the same opportunity to showcase her amazing talent as the boys have already been able to do.

Keep your eyes and ears open to this amazing new venture.

Victimize no longer

I remember as if it was yesterday. It was a sunny, but wintery day. A perfect day to go ice-skating somewhere. I heard a knock at the door. At three years old, you’re usually excited to have visitors because that means you have another playmate. But for me a knock at the door signified something else— my real dad coming to visit. Normally a girl wouldn’t mind to see her daddy, but not when your daddy has abused your mom physically and verbally, done every drug under the sun and has several grand theft charges to his name.

At three years old I didn’t know all of these details, but I could always sense he wasn’t right.

As my mom went to answer the door, I hid behind some fake plants that were in my living room. My mom called for me to come out, saying I had a visitor, but I knew who it was. I didn’t want to leave my safe haven to see him. But I did it for my mom, not him. He told me he was taking me ice-skating. I freaked, but couldn’t do much about it at the time because the divorce hadn’t been finalized, so I had to go. Needless to say I gave him hell when I left my mom. He was trying to be all nice and sweet to me as if he cared, but let’s get real, he was only doing it to appease the courts.

Anyways, we get to the ice rink and I throw the worst tantrum. People were looking at him as if he kidnapped me. Needless to say that was the quickest ice-skating trip I had ever been on. We may have stayed for 20 minutes before I got my way and he brought me back home.

That’s the last I ever saw or heard from him.

Now, let’s fast-forward 17 years. I was having lunch with my aunt, who is my real dad’s sister. She was always there for me and my mom because she knew the kind of person my biological father was. When the divorce was finalized, she told my mom she didn’t want to ever lose ties even though she wasn’t married to the family anymore. So, while at the California Pizza kitchen, my aunt dropped a huge bomb at the lunch table. She told me my dad was about to get out of prison, after 10 years, and was wondering if I had any desire to reconnect with him.

I immediately froze. For those 30 seconds that it took her to say that sentence all my past experiences flooded my memory. My mind was going in five directions. That was the first time I had thought of him since I was three. I had totally erased him from my memory like he did to me.

I snapped back into the conversation. I looked at my aunt. I was trying to convey my thoughts into words, but nothing was coming out. I didn’t have to say anything. She could read my facial expressions. She told me she only brought it up because there was a chance he was going to try to contact me.

But he never did, thank goodness.

Then, on November 1, 2008, I got a phone call I’ll never forget. My mom called to tell me that my real dad got hit by a drunk driver and didn’t know if he’d live. She suggested I might have to come home to say goodbye.

I freaked. I felt like I was three again. Is it bad that even on his deathbed I had no desire to see him?

Sometimes we, the victims, tear ourselves apart because we think we’re being bad people and have hateful hearts. But that’s not the case. It’s that we’ve been a victim of our situation for so long that our threshold has met its max.

It’s not that I was being a cold-hearted bitch while my dad lied on his deathbed. It’s because he never respected my mom’s worth nor cared about me until the courts were involved.

This was me taking a stand for myself and not letting him victimize me anymore. I have a life to live and it goes on whether he’s in it or not.

Women have rights, too

Women get paid 78 cents for every dollar paid to men. In a land where all are suppose to be equal, why is it that women still fall short?

Forty-five years ago, President John F. Kennedy enacted The Equal Pay Act because women were only getting paid 59 cents to the dollar (National Women’s Law Center). So we have moved up in the world, but we’re still not quite there

Lilly Ledbetter, Goodyear Tire and Rubber supervisor from Alabama, has helped women in the United States move a step closer to become equal to men, in wage compensation that is. Ledbetter realized towards the end of her career that here male counterparts, that held the same position, were getting paid more. She went on to sue Goodyear for pay discrimination, but lost in a 5-4 decision because she didn’t file her suit within 180 days of the date Goodyear first paid her less than her peers.

But on January 29, 2009, President Obama heard her cry for equality and responded by signing the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act. He said he did this so ‘we can uphold one of the nation’s first principles: That we’re all created equal and each deserves a chance to pursue our own version of happiness.” The new act would be more effective than the last because it includes the Paycheck Fairness Act. Instead of having to file within 180 days of a woman’s first paycheck, the Paycheck Fairness Act would allow a woman to sue their workplace up to six months after her most recent paycheck.

Some may think the wage gap is a petty matter. It’s only 22 cents less than a man’s salary. Only 22 cents? Have you ever sat down to do some math? According to the Center for American Progress, a woman with a bachelor’s degree or higher loses $713,000 over a 40-year period. To put it into greater perspective, that would be a 17 percent increase in additional money single mothers could take home if they were paid fairly. They wouldn’t have to base their lives around the monthly child support check anymore.

As we earnestly wait to see if the Senate will pass the act, I wonder if it will even matter. So yeah, we’ll receive equal compensation as the opposite sex, but the question is, will we be treated the same?

I can’t even begin to number the times I’ve heard sexist jokes directed towards women. ‘Do you know why God made women’s feet smaller than men? So they can stand closer to the stove.’ Or that women are only good for two things: cooking and, well, you know the other one.

That goes to show where women stand.

As I head into the real world, I’m beginning to wonder the respect I’ll receive in the male-dominated world of sports. I can talk the lingo and hold my own in a room of guys, but to others who don’t know the true me would generalize ‘oh, she’s a girl, she doesn’t know anything about sports.’

When I worked on set for the NFL Network during this year’s Super Bowl in Miami, the big story was about Dwight Freeney, the Indianapolis Colts defensive end, being hurt. Before the pre-game show on Super Bowl Sunday, two of the anchors were joking about Freeney’s injury being over talked. I though it was funny so I chuckled to myself, but one of the anchors heard me. He turned to his co-worker and said. “If she knows what we’re talking about then you know it’s bad.”

Goes to show that they looked at me as a “typical” girl who only knows athletes by the colors they wear or how good they look wearing those colors.

It’s not just in sports though. It abounds in every job arena.

Women aren’t taken seriously for a position as a Chief Financial Officer because it’s a man’s job to take care of the finances or in factories where men are paid more than women because their ‘man’ power is more useful.

When the Senate goes to sign the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act, it will be another advancement for women’s rights, but there are significant disparities that remain and I don’t know if any act will really help.

Super Bowl rewind

I’m finally back from the Super Bowl! Boy that was a long 10 days, but very rewarding at the same time. I felt like such a nerd working on set for the week. It was awesome to finally experience a live production first hand after learning all about it at school.

Anyways, back to the Super Bowl. I guess I’ll give you a little synopsis on my 10 days in Miami, boy is that a different land down there.

(To fill everyone in, I worked with NFL Network on their South Beach set of NFL Total Access.)

To make it fun, I will give a top 5 of the most ridiculous things that happened to me or I encountered while I was there.

1. Let’s start with driving. I almost went into multiple panic attacks from the way people drive down in South Florida. They cut you off where ever, when ever, even if there’s only two inches in front of you. Pedestrians think that your green light means it gives them the right to walk in front of your car. I think the best thing was that the large, city buses think they’re compact cars and can cut you off when they’re just putting the car in drive and you’re already going 50 mph. I’m just glad my car and I were able to get out of Miami in one piece.

2. Gotta love professional athletes. I had a particular run in with ex- Oakland Raider and Tampa Bay Bucs defensive end Warren Sapp. On the field he’s known for his cocky attitude and rude actions—well his manners aren’t much better off the field. Before meeting Warren Sapp, I had been working with a guy named Vic, who looks exactly like Sapp in face. So when I met Sapp on set for the first time (with Vic standing behind him) I wanted to tell him that he had a twin. So I said, “Warren, I found your double.” He responded, “Excuse me (leaning toward me since it was noisy on set)?” I repeated, “I found someone who looks just like you…” He cut me off and wouldn’t let me finish telling him that it was my friend Vic right behind him. Instead he angrily responded, “That is so disrespectful young lady. How dare you say that all black people look alike. That’s so wrong.” He storms away, but proceeds to keep mumbling to himself. I just stood there in shock. I could not believe that he just said that to me. It gets better. So then the audio guy turns to me and tells me what Sapp was mumbling under his breath. Sapp said that I resembled the hoe down the street. Classy.

3. To think it could actually get better after the Sapp story, but it does. So people hate Tiger Woods now because he was caught red handed for cheating on his wife…but that’s because he was caught. People would think differently of other well-known athletes if they were caught too. While in Miami, someone gave me their number prefacing that he would let me know of any parties going on Super Bowl week since I didn’t know anything that was going on and he insisted I go out while I was down there. He told me to call his number so he had my number and he’d just text me when something was going on. I’m so naïve in thinking most of the time. Later I received a text “you ready to get sexy later?” I totally freaked! I could not believe that a married man sent me that. I felt like I was in a Tiger Woods scandal, except I’m not the type of girl who gets around with guys, let alone married ones! This really cemented my notion that most professional athletes are sleezeballs.

4. On a lighter note, I thought it was so funny that I had to hunt up and down the streets of South Beach in search of Berry Skhol dip. Our executive producer loves it. Language was a barrier on my hunt because South Beach is it’s own country in itself and you’re in the minority speaking English. But it just goes to show you what you’ll do to make a good impression and try to secure a job out of college.

5. To end my list, I thought I’d show that most guys don’t think girls know anything about sports. On Super Bowl Sunday, I was filling the talent’s cups with water before the pre-game show started and two of the guy talent were joking about how Dwight Freeney’s injured ankle story had been over talked. They were making jokes saying they didn’t even know Freeney was injured and I chuckled to myself thinking it was funny. One of guys overheard me chuckle and said, “Well, you know it’s bad [that the story had been beat to death] when she knows what we’re talking about.” Yeah, he went there.

All in all, I had an awesome experience, met some great people and left with invaluable experience.

College or no college, that is the question

April and May are the most exciting times in a college senior’s life-- graduation. A time of jubilee that he or she has finally escaped the stresses of homework deadlines and all-nighters to study for exams. The real world has finally arrived.

But six months after graduation, Brittany Montgomery has yet to find a job. She didn’t move back with her parents because she wanted to be that adult in the real world, have her own apartment and show that independence she gained from college.

That’s about all she can show for her $120,000 degree from Southeastern University. She has resorted to a waitressing job for the time being to make ends meet until she gets a call back from one of the hundreds of jobs she has applied for.

The number six not only stands for the amount of post-graduation months, but also when the loan companies come on the prowl. Besides her electric bill, phone bill, rent, car insurance and other miscellaneous expenses that may arise, Brittany now adds her loan bills to the heavy burden she has to carry each day. And she’s not alone.

According to the Department of Education, 66 percent of all undergraduates have to take out student loans in order to attain that coveted college degree.

But is it even worth taking out those loans to have that diploma?

Right now, 10 percent of college graduates 24 years and younger (up from 2007-2008 school year according to the U.S Bureau and statistics) can’t find a job and are stressing about the six month mark.

I sure am. In fact, it’s been on my mind for the past several years. I’ve been busting my butt to gain real world experience through internships and getting involved in national organizations to network. I think I’m heading in the right direction, until I go on journalism or media job sites and each job I come across states I need to have “experience.”

Experience?! How do they define experience? To them, they want people who have been in the working field for some time now. So what do college graduates like me do to survive in this real world when we’re just exiting school?

Zach Bove, a current senior at Flagler College, started to question his sport management degree while working as a holiday runner for UPS.

“Why bother going into sport management when I could go to work at UPS and make $35 per hour,” said Bove.

My sentiments exactly. Why get $20,000 in debt when I could also go work at UPS and receive double the pay I’d get starting out in my specialized field of journalism. To put it into perspective, someone at UPS makes about $30 per hour starting out. That’s about $44,000, not including overtime and bonuses they receive during the holidays. They have full benefits and are guaranteed 40 hours per week.

Sounds like a great gig to me.

Going into journalism, I’ll start out with half the salary and have a job as stable as a house built on sand.

Hmmm…which would you choose?

But it all comes back to getting your foot in the door and having that job security to pay off those student loans. With the state of the economy, I pose this question: is our society reverting back to where experience trumps college degrees?

Right now I can’t put my finger on an equation that equals a job when I graduate in April. Anyone out there that can help?

For now, I’m trying to forget the six month mark and focus on these next three months to finish up my degree. Is it fair to say worthless degree? But when I graduate and don’t have a job, I too, could end up like Brittany Montgomery—having to resort back to the restaurant business with all other non grads, teenagers, high school drop outs and criminals.

Maybe homework and all-nighters aren’t so bad after all.

Not-So-Typical Girl Talk

Oh my gosh, did you watch that amazing football game yesterday? The one with Brett Favre in his hot purple uniform?? Oh man did he look good filling it out ... And Adrian Peterson, how strong and muscular he looked plowing through those heard of men. Not to mention his irresistible smile when he took off his helmet.

Ok, so those are some normal things from a TYPICAL girl when football talk arises, but I'm not your stereotypical girl. I can tell you the difference between an extra point kick and a field goal. I know the difference between a false start and an off-sides call, that a Cover 2 defense doesn't mean that two defenders cover one person...you get the point.

What is the point of my blog you ask?

First, to show doubters that women can hold an sustaining conversation when it comes to sports and two, get readers to see a different side to sports other than the regergitated information Sportscenter spits out.

For the next 10 days, I will be working the Pro Bowl and Super Bowl for the NFL Network. I hope to show you a different side of the Super Bowl that regular joes, like you and I, aren't fortunate enough to attend . The ins and outs of a hectic schedule to put on live broadcasts and other fun stuff like who I will encounter and crazy little journeys I go off on.

So I hope you enjoy some sports talk with a not-so-typical girl.