Before I even officially start this post, I'd like to preface it by telling you that when I originally wrote it - in my head, at about 2:30 am this morning, it was much funnier and it made a lot more grammatical sense than it's about to. So just pretend it's a better post, okay? Okay. Here we go.
So up until yesterday, I was under the dillusioned impression that we wouldn't be subjected to any SuperBowl hoopla since Fox is not among our three tv channels of fuzziness. Unfortunately, it finally dawned on me - after seeing I don't know how many ads for the game - that it will in fact be broadcast on CBS. And yes, there's a good chance, that like all good Brandonites, former or present, I will watch SOME of the game, in all its heathen, commercialism-driven, yet 'family-friendly' glory. Luckily this year's half-time show promises to be a glaring departure from...was it last year's debacle? In an attempt to regain some of its family-friendly wholesome appeal, the powers that be bypassed the likes of Christine Aguilera, Justin Timberlake, and even The Wiggles, in favour of the class-act who is Prince. Yes, Prince.
I can only imagine the conversation in the decision-making boardroom went something like this.
After hours of banishment to his desk to contemplate his suggestion of a grand halftime performance of Circque du Soleil, Gary, the newest chimp on the block has come up with a real winner of a suggestion. He runs to the boardroom, where he finds the rest of his comrades planning the SuperBowl with intensity, amidst multipacks of Budweiser, cheese doodles, and Popeye reruns.
"I've got it!" cries Gary. "I've figured out a way to spend less on the Half Time show AND have money left over for more cheese doodles!"
His fellow chimps grunt but barely look up as Gary explains his plan to hire Prince to perform live. "He's older, washed-up, and he still has bad hair. But he's cheaper than The Wiggles and I'm sure the kids will love him! Parents too! Not to mention that one song will give everyone a chance to refill their beer and popcorn before the second half!"
"Aye! The lad is brilliant!" responds the group in chorus. "It's settled then. Prince it is!"
Okay, it might not have been exactly like that, but seriously, what were they thinking!?!? Prince?!?!
I have seriously digressed. The REAL reason I'll be watching - or attempting too, since the tv is so fuzzy, there's little chance of actually being able to see the ball let alone any of the players - is that one of Brandon's hometown heroes will be right there in the middle of all the action. Yes, it's true. All of Brandon will be tuning in to catch Chicago Bear, Izzy Idonije in action! So I'm using this blog post to fill you all in on MY (albeit remote) connection to Izzy.
It all started in elementary/jr. high school and on Izzy's part, is a bit of a rags-to-riches story. Israel (or "Izzy" to probably anybody other than his parents) comes from a relatively large family. From what I remember, his Mom is a super-sweet lady and his Dad has one of the best afros around - still! His Dad used to be the principal of a very small private Christian school called The Potter's Wheel and the pastor of a tiny church. Every year, the Christian schools in Brandon would get together for a track meet. Yes, an actual track meet, with starting pistols, stopwatches, broken bones - the whole bit. I don't even remember what events Izzy competed in, I really only remember some big athletic kid. I DO, however, remember his older sister, Praise. She had amazing hair (I think it might've been in cornrows at the time) and by gum! She was FAST! That girl could run! Plus, she was super nice and pretty to boot. So there you have it, my - I told you it was remote - connection with Izzy Idonije. (My best friend from Back Home was actually friends with him in high school so I'm sure she'd have some good funny stories to share, but since she doesn't have a blog, well, my grasping at straws will have to do). Izzy started off playing basketball in high school and then either because they needed another player or for some other reason, was recruited by his high school football team. Then he played uni football in Winnipeg for the Bisons and now he's in Chicago. Cool!
For a moment though, let me head off on a rabbit trail and lament this so-called track meet. It was awful. Some of the worst memories of my elementary education. Every year we'd have this horrible track meet. I'm not entirely certain, but I think it was supposed to make us feel better that we were only competing against maybe three other schools so our chances to win ribbons and trophies were better. The problem was though, that we HAD to compete. Everybody - athletically inclined or otherwise (a la your's truly) had to choose at least two events in which to embarass his/herself, er, compete. I always chose the ones I thought would require the least amount of running or effort. Oh, I think I tried the 100m a few times, but with minimal success and progressing asthma, it was only a matter of time before even my teachers realized I was doomed to fail in anything that required sprinting more than say, 50m. So I ended up in long jump (I never could get a handle on triple jump, and I still don't understand it) and shotput. Altogether, a waste of time.
Preparation for the track meet consisted of two weeks-worth of gym class 'practices,' wherein most of the time was cunningly devoted to the students the teachers though would actually do well. Steve had a gift for shotput. Dale was an ace at high jump. Anthony ran 100m with decent success. Doug, also the most academically gifted individual I've ever met, was always winning anything involving distance running. Then there were the girls. Christina was also good at shotput as I recall. One year, at least, Maria managed to be 'sick' on track meet day. A fate, even if it WAS true, envied bitterly by Olivia and me, who competed half-heartedly in our events, then felt it was our duty to either cheer on whoever we were crushing at the time (so, really every boy in our class) or sit and gossip about the 'nerds' from Bethel. It's not that Olivia and I were completely athletically inept, it's just that Olivia's talent for softball (she was GOOD!) and my childhood passion for soccer and skating really fast, didn't figure in as track and field events. So that was track and field at CHS. I think I might've gotten a ribbon once when I was quite young. Probably a leftover ribbon given as a consolation prize.
So, this post has really turned into a mishmash of 'stuff,' but when I think of the Idonijes, I think of track meets and then I'm forced into some childhood reminiscing. And if there was another point to anything I was saying, I can't remember it now anyway.
Today I'm going to finally roast that free Holiday Turkey. Yes, the pantry and fridge are looking a little bare so we're 'cracking open' the turkey early.
Plus, later this afternoon is our ultrasound when we hope to finally 'meet' this child. Keep your fingers crossed for a clear sighting of that certain part of the anatomy....I'll post the 'results' later tonight.
I have seriously digressed. The REAL reason I'll be watching - or attempting too, since the tv is so fuzzy, there's little chance of actually being able to see the ball let alone any of the players - is that one of Brandon's hometown heroes will be right there in the middle of all the action. Yes, it's true. All of Brandon will be tuning in to catch Chicago Bear, Izzy Idonije in action! So I'm using this blog post to fill you all in on MY (albeit remote) connection to Izzy.
It all started in elementary/jr. high school and on Izzy's part, is a bit of a rags-to-riches story. Israel (or "Izzy" to probably anybody other than his parents) comes from a relatively large family. From what I remember, his Mom is a super-sweet lady and his Dad has one of the best afros around - still! His Dad used to be the principal of a very small private Christian school called The Potter's Wheel and the pastor of a tiny church. Every year, the Christian schools in Brandon would get together for a track meet. Yes, an actual track meet, with starting pistols, stopwatches, broken bones - the whole bit. I don't even remember what events Izzy competed in, I really only remember some big athletic kid. I DO, however, remember his older sister, Praise. She had amazing hair (I think it might've been in cornrows at the time) and by gum! She was FAST! That girl could run! Plus, she was super nice and pretty to boot. So there you have it, my - I told you it was remote - connection with Izzy Idonije. (My best friend from Back Home was actually friends with him in high school so I'm sure she'd have some good funny stories to share, but since she doesn't have a blog, well, my grasping at straws will have to do). Izzy started off playing basketball in high school and then either because they needed another player or for some other reason, was recruited by his high school football team. Then he played uni football in Winnipeg for the Bisons and now he's in Chicago. Cool!
For a moment though, let me head off on a rabbit trail and lament this so-called track meet. It was awful. Some of the worst memories of my elementary education. Every year we'd have this horrible track meet. I'm not entirely certain, but I think it was supposed to make us feel better that we were only competing against maybe three other schools so our chances to win ribbons and trophies were better. The problem was though, that we HAD to compete. Everybody - athletically inclined or otherwise (a la your's truly) had to choose at least two events in which to embarass his/herself, er, compete. I always chose the ones I thought would require the least amount of running or effort. Oh, I think I tried the 100m a few times, but with minimal success and progressing asthma, it was only a matter of time before even my teachers realized I was doomed to fail in anything that required sprinting more than say, 50m. So I ended up in long jump (I never could get a handle on triple jump, and I still don't understand it) and shotput. Altogether, a waste of time.
Preparation for the track meet consisted of two weeks-worth of gym class 'practices,' wherein most of the time was cunningly devoted to the students the teachers though would actually do well. Steve had a gift for shotput. Dale was an ace at high jump. Anthony ran 100m with decent success. Doug, also the most academically gifted individual I've ever met, was always winning anything involving distance running. Then there were the girls. Christina was also good at shotput as I recall. One year, at least, Maria managed to be 'sick' on track meet day. A fate, even if it WAS true, envied bitterly by Olivia and me, who competed half-heartedly in our events, then felt it was our duty to either cheer on whoever we were crushing at the time (so, really every boy in our class) or sit and gossip about the 'nerds' from Bethel. It's not that Olivia and I were completely athletically inept, it's just that Olivia's talent for softball (she was GOOD!) and my childhood passion for soccer and skating really fast, didn't figure in as track and field events. So that was track and field at CHS. I think I might've gotten a ribbon once when I was quite young. Probably a leftover ribbon given as a consolation prize.
So, this post has really turned into a mishmash of 'stuff,' but when I think of the Idonijes, I think of track meets and then I'm forced into some childhood reminiscing. And if there was another point to anything I was saying, I can't remember it now anyway.
Today I'm going to finally roast that free Holiday Turkey. Yes, the pantry and fridge are looking a little bare so we're 'cracking open' the turkey early.
Plus, later this afternoon is our ultrasound when we hope to finally 'meet' this child. Keep your fingers crossed for a clear sighting of that certain part of the anatomy....I'll post the 'results' later tonight.
1 comment:
Prince: Half the size means half the price!
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