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Posted by on Jan 7, 2013 in Blog, Rants and Raves | 0 comments

National Champion Quitter — Brian Kelly

Brian Kelly Quits

 

Some things are worth remembering.  Some things should not be forgotten.

Things like commitment, giving your word, and loyalty.  Those are characteristics that matter.

They should especially matter in education and athletics, which serve as society’s de facto training ground for molding what we become and who we are.

Brian Kelly, the current head coach at the University of Notre Dame, has demonstrated he possesses none of these characteristics.  In fact, he’s just about the most repulsive figure in college coaching today — and that’s really saying something now that Bobby Petrino is back on the sidelines.

The facts are irrefutable.  When things mattered the most — when his team and those who trusted in him counted on him to lead, Brian Kelly did something that’s unforgivable.

He quit.

That’s right, he quit. 

He didn’t quit after the fight.  He didn’t quit during the fight.  He quit before the fight even started.  Like a gutless self-centered coward instantly forgetting all those who lifted him upon one of the vaulted pedestals of his profession, Kelly rose to the top and then hacked away the helping hands of those who had largely created and shaped the Kelly mantel.  He completely abandoned his former team, his players, his fans, and all those who once trusted in his leadership and character.

For those with short memories, before Kelly took his current position at Notre Dame three seasons ago, he was the head coach at the University of Cincinnati.  During his tenure there, Kelly recruited college football players from all over the nation.  Out of nothing, he created something.  He took a football program with no previous national stature whatsoever and made it into a powerhouse.  In 2010, he led the Bearcats to a perfect 12-0 win-loss record and a number three ranking in the polls.  Cincinnati was invited to its first Sugar Bowl ever.

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Posted by on Dec 29, 2012 in Blog, Rants and Raves, Travel | 2 comments

The Unfriendly Skies: Nolan Dalla’s Flying Enemies List

 

Airport Crowds

 

The only thing worse than flying, is flying during the holiday season.

Seriously, could air travel be any less glamorous?

When I was a kid, I remember people used to get dressed up when they traveled by air.  Fliers were polite.  No one ever seemed to be in a rush.  The seats were comfortable.  There was plenty of leg room.  The airlines served you a hot meal and it tasted good.  Alcoholic beverages were free.  You never paid additional charges and your luggage arrived on time.  When there was a flight delay, the airline apologized and even put you up in a first-class hotel, when necessary.

Now, boarding a plane is pretty much like getting on a Greyhound bus — only with wings.

Flying is constant battle.  You battle to find a decent fare.  You battle to get a good seat assignment.  You battle to get to the airport on time — at least two hours early.  You battle to run the gauntlet through TSA screening without being strip searched.  You battle to get into the right boarding group.  You battle for precious overhead bin space.  You battle for the armrest.  You battle for peace and quiet during the flight.  You battle to depart your row so as to exit the aircraft.  You battle to claim your luggage.  Then, once you’re out of the airport, you battle to get a taxi or a rental car.

Indeed, if flying has become a serious of battles, then I’m hereby declaring war!

 

NOLAN DALLA’S FLYING ENEMIES LIST

1.  BIN HOGS — I realize the airlines now try to pork you for $30 per checked bag each way.  But carry on abuse has become intolerable.  Now, jackasses are hauling 50-pound suitcases down the aisles.  Then, they heave the bone crushers into a tiny overhead bin space intended to be a storage area for purses and coats.  I’m so sick of seeing these selfish pricks usurping every inch of storage space with bags the size of a Great Dane.  It’s time for airlines to start enforcing carry-on size rules.

2.  ARM REST THUGS — I paid the same $389 fare you did.  So, move your fucking body part off my half of the arm rest.  You’re not sitting at home in a Lazy Boy parked in front of the television.  You’re in public.  Try to act like a responsible adult.

3.  BORING CONVERSATIONALISTS — I don’t want to hear your life story.  I don’t want to hear your personal problems.  I don’t give a rat’s ass what happened to you last week in Cleveland.  I don’t care what your opinion is of the Redskins-Cowboys game.  You’re on a cheap Southwest Airline flight just like me, pal.  You’re not a guest on The David Letterman Show.  Zip it.

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Posted by on Dec 15, 2012 in Blog, Essays, Rants and Raves | 3 comments

When the Worst Thing is to Do Nothing — A Reaction to the Tragedy in Connecticut

 

WEIGHING THE OPTIONS:  TO DO SOMETHING VERSUS NOTHING

 

The horror of the Connecticut school shooting impacts us on so many emotional levels.

Just about everyone I’ve spoken to, or correspnded with, has endured a gambit of reactions over the past 24 hours since the tragedy — from shock, to anger, to sorrow, to (again) outrage, and ultimately (for some) to a renewed sense of determination.

Today’s column is a difficult one to write.  It’s probably the most complicated issue I’ve addressed, to date.  I admit experiencing a sort of “writer’s block” to this terrible tragedy, something that doesn’t strike me often.  The bottom line is — what is there to say?  What can be said?

But as the hours pass, I’ve come to realize that to say nothing is grossly irresponsible.  To do nothing, even more so.

Hence, I shall address the Connecticut tragedy in multiple parts.  First, there’s a purely emotional reaction to these unfathomable events.  As one might expect, these feelings are accompanied by a demand for action.  I’ve also included what I believe to be a few  partial solutions which seek to reduce the frequency and severity of these horrors.

Once again, this is a terribly difficult problem to face.  But we must look to these victims and honor their memory with something better than what we have now.  And then, we must look inside ourselves.  We must do it.  We must do it now.  Righteousness demands nothing less.

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Posted by on Dec 10, 2012 in Blog, Personal, Rants and Raves, Travel | 1 comment

Attack of the Pit Bulls

Mean-Looking Pitbull

 

Yesterday, I almost had my balls chewed off by a pit bull named “Chief.”

It’s true.

I was attacked by three pit bulls this past weekend.  Here’s the story of how a leisurely run through the mountains of northern San Diego County turned into a brief moment of terror.

 

………………

 

Ever had one of those “HOLY SHIT!  WHAT DO I DO NOW?” moments?

I just had one.

Make that three.  As in three pit bulls.

It all happened Saturday morning.  A casual three-mile run concluded with an unexpected “bonus sprint” towards the end, when I was confronted by three gnarling, foaming-at-the-mouth, canine beasts.

First, the back story.  I’m currently staying at the Harrah’s Rincon Resort and Casino, which is located in the mountains just north of San Diego.  This is Indian land situated about halfway between Temecula and Escondido.  Unless you drive 20 miles due east off the I-15, you’d never know there’s this vast barren area with almost no modern development, except for a few casinos and local Indians who all seem to drive $60,000 cars and live in shacks.

The roads here pretty much consist of single-lane stretches of pavement winding through mountains along blind curves with no guard rails.  Everyone seems to drive 80 miles an hour along these roads.  I guess there’s no state highway patrol here given this is a “sovereign nation,” so it’s almost like vehicular anarchy.

Having run along these roads a few times as part of my daily workout, I’ve nearly been hit by traffic, oblivious to the fat white guy wallowing along the yellow stripe who’s stupid enough to jog a route where no path exists.  If running in Las Vegas is dangerous at times, and it certainly can be, then doing the same thing here on an Indian reservation is inviting a death wish.

So, on Saturday morning I went out in search of a detour.  A new path where I could run over the next week which was challenging, but safe.  I thought I’d found it, at least until the final stage of my run, which is where the story picks up.

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