 |
Jazz News |
 |
|
Jazz Tickets |
|
|
Jazz Promotions |
|
|
Jazz Roster |
|
|
THANKSGIVING LETTERS As I was writing and after my hands were chalk-free, it made me think about all the fan mail that our department receives on behalf of the team. As I’m sure is imagined, we get all kinds of things, from photos to sign, to letters expressing deep love for the Jazz, to letters asking for memorabilia, to letters to players who aren’t on the team anymore (or alive), to letters with full blown fictional stories about the team (those are followed by sequel, after sequel, after sequel…) Sometimes they’re fun to read, sometimes not so much. I picked out a few excerpts of some recent deliveries. No, I’m not poking fun, just sharing in the Jazz fan love. But before you start reading those, here’s a holler for a Happy Thanksgiving. Whether it’s a holiday away from home (like me) or a holiday where family comes to you (like Deron) or a holiday where you go downstairs and everyone’s there (like Utah), I hope it’s a great one. My celebration began early, with the team’s annual Thanksgiving dinner for the homeless at the ESA on Tuesday. A great opportunity to be hospitable and giving to those less fortunate, I know it made Moma proud. She always says, “Han, remember where you came from.” Oh, I remember. Letters like this don’t let me forget.
1,000 WINS Last week was a big week in Jazz Town. We all got to witness history when Coach Sloan won his 1,000th game as head coach of the Jazz. It was pretty incredible. I got dibbs on that never happening again. Kind of like when Mamaw killed a chicken snake on the back porch with a garden hoe. It was pretty incredible. And it ain’t ever happened again.
Before that, Beesman Matt Brown came back to town on Wednesday for the Olympic Appreciation Night with the Jazz and Salt Lake Bees. He and I are like a professional athlete and a PR person. He’s a good feller, as Moma would say. Dang right. Good enough to be an All-Star, an All-Star Game MVP, a All-PCL team member, a member of the 2008 USA Baseball team that won bronze in the Beijing Olympics, and to be a September call-up for the 100-win Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. That’s probably shout out enough.
The Olympic auction and Kyle Korver’s Coat Drive was a success. Here’s a holler out to all those who contributed. HOLLER! It was a garbage bag full of new coats zoo in our office earlier this week. We brought in 810 coats and at least 60 garbage bags. Kyle’s going to deliver those next week. He’s gonna need a couple U-Haul’s. Let’s see what else…I had to go to the ZBBC on the west side of the SLC and have our photographer get some snapshots of the innards of the facility. It’s one of the best practice places in all of the NBA. You can learn more about it in an upcoming issue of GameTime and maybe on utahjazz.com if you’re lucky.
Moma got some print time last week too. She shared her rhubarb cake recipe at her monthly literary club meeting and it made it all the way to the Shreveport Times. Personally, I’m not a fan of rhubarb, but I hear the cake is just to die for. It ain’t just me and Moma getting’ the love though. Moma’s baby sister, I call her ‘Con,’ is a huge fan of Teddy Allen. Who’s Teddy Allen? He’s just the guy that dubbed Karl Malone the “Mailman.” He has his own column in the Shreveport Times. Con lost her dog of 14 years about a year ago, just about the time that Teddy wrote an entry about the death of his own dog. Okay, the sadness ends here. Con wrote a letter to Teddy and he posted it. Con came up with the name of my blog. I posted it. She’s got skills. R.I.P Maggie. BIENVILLE BOOGIE The “Bienville Boogie” goes like so: Step on the starter We got the Bienville Boogie Now I know why the Bienville Bobcats were a force to be reckoned with in the 1950s and 60s.They had the best ‘fight song’ in the ARK-LA-TEX and Moma on the team (in the late 60s that is). Who dat talkin’ about beatin’ them Bobcats? Who dat? Oh, now I remember. She was talking about Collin Raye, saying that she liked his new Jazz theme song. Collin Raye ain’t got nothing on the Bienville Boogie. Happy Birthday Moma! Now, it’s time to get caught up on opening week. In the pregame dress rehearsal last week, I got a little shell shocked when the fireworks went off, jumped out of my seat and dropped my phone down the bleachers. Not real sure why I didn’t see it coming, but Jody Genessy from the Deseret News quickly (and boldly I might add) replied, “Not a lot of field action, General?” I didn’t mention that one Civil War reenactment I was in. But, it was good timing and I even laughed. Kind of had to though, everyone else around me was and I already looked like a fool. Same day, Jonathan’s blackberry went down (which is a real emergency in this business). The sucker wouldn’t take a charge so he trucked it across the street to the Verizon Wireless store, came back with a brand spanking new one, but had to go back to get info off his old one. That’s when the cop on a motorbike rode in, cut off Jonathan and slapped him on the back with a jaywalking ticket. Again, tickle me pink and call me Rosy! We couldn’t find Gephardt’s number but Jonathan did manage to get the fine lowered. The reason: he’s a first time offender. Probably a last time offender too.
We unveiled the Game Night Staff banner in our press room office on opening night. That’s the MVP on the left. It just doesn’t take much for some people.
Opening night itself was a little bit of a blur, but we made that game our own. Got the W. Halloween literally creeped up on us and we were all in a tizzy trying to find a costume. I know, I know, my costume was lame. It was down to Dora the Explorer or nothing. So I was the moron that no one knew who I was, but I did win a micro-component system or other that I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t dressed up. So booyah band boy and Robert Whaley! The company treated us well, good eats, family entertainment, but I could have done without the creepy ragamuffins in my face when I walked in.
FRESH STARTS; LIFE OFF GAME ON The party’s over now though, no more preseason hoopla for me. But it sure was picturesque. Moma couldn’t make the trip. She was knee deep in book festivals and house warmings and cooking and planning the family reunion. What a shame.
So with the vacation behind me, it’s all about preppin’ for the regular season opener. Kind of like Moma is gettin’ ready for the family reunion. It’s everyone on her daddy’s side. They’re a rowdy bunch, but some of my Moma’s favorite cousins will be there. Frog, Moose, Farty Marty and the list goes on. I really hate I’m going to miss it. The refresher course for Season Two starts with our department’s two interns. No free tators for these out-of-staters. It’s been a barrel of a million things at once. First, it’s learning the roadways from their new home to the ESA and ZBBC and in between. Second, my name is “General.” Or is that first? Third, here’s the intern manifesto. Read it. Memorize it. Don’t lose it. Fourth, no seriously, my name is “General.” Fifth, let’s do the dang thing. And that’s where we are now. TB and Faith (names changed to protect the innocent, but mostly because the only person around here without a nickname is the nicknamer Derek) have helped us get a head start on “GameTime,” our game program that will feature the detailed goods on this year’s team. They’ve both endured the goings-on of a home game night and neither one has yet to jam up one of the 50 copy machines in the building. Things are looking up. I even brought a little more life to my closet. The NBA Dress Code ain’t just for players. Or is it playas? The rust has shaken free. It’s “Life Off Game On” people.
I BET YOU WISH YOU HAD YOUR OWN BOBBLEHEAD Then I heard a story. A story from Derek, told to him by the Jazz’s massage therapist. A story that I’m about to tell. It’s a hoot. He’s been called Scranton’s favorite son and “The Mayor of Scranton.” Scranton, Pa. is Gerry McNamara’s hometown. They love him there. So much that, in 2006, the year Gerry graduated from Syracuse with a NCAA Championship ring on his finger, his hometown minor league baseball team honored him with his very own bobblehead. Yep, the then-Scranton Red Barons, Triple-A affiliate of the Philadelphia Phillies, gave the first 6,000 fans through the gates at PNC Field on August 16, 2006 a Gerry McNamara bobblehead doll. Gerry admits it. “It’s pretty cool to have a bobblehead of yourself. Especially because I love Syracuse, I loved playing there, and obviously I love my hometown.” I love my hometown too Gerry, but Bienville doesn’t even have a high school baseball team. Moma really was mayor once. She got the roads paved. I ain’t seen any bobbleheads show up on her front porch. The story doesn’t end there though. Gerry’s hometown is also hometown to a popular television show. “One of my brother’s good friends works at the Scranton Times and he runs a lot of promotions stuff for “The Office.” When I was overseas last year playing basketball, he contacted me through my brother and asked if they could put my bobblehead on the show. I said absolutely. Why not?” His bobblehead isn’t just in the show. It’s on Dwight Schrute’s desk. Tickle me pink and call me Rosie. He’s got an attic full of bobbleheads at home in Scranton, but Gerry’s never seen the show. “I don’t even watch it, but I’m waiting to get all the DVDs. My brother loves it. Most of my family loves it. It is pretty funny to see that my bobblehead is on such a big name show.” I can see it now. A Gerry McNamara bobblehead in my rear window. More like on my desk. Next to Dwight’s.
(Photo credits: milb.com & blog.syracuse.com) PRESEASON 2008 “Hot Rod” Hundley’s famous “…and the cowhide globe hits home” rang again to begin his 35th season in the headsets last night. I wasn’t listening to him, but I know someone who was. Eighteen year professional sports radio engineering vet Tony Noto heard him. He had to. He had buttons to push and volume to control. Mr. Noto, seen here with “Hots,” got his start in the radio business the year “Hot Rod” retired from playing professional basketball. It was 1963. The year Patsy Cline died in a plane crash. The year Buddy Rogers became the first WWWF Champion. The year zip codes were introduced in the U.S. The year John F. Kennedy was assassinated.
Moma was in sixth grade at Southside Elementary in Jonesboro-Hodge. It was the year of her first boyfriend. Wiley Dickels. He was short and had freckles. She had cat-eyed glasses. He bought her a turtle at the zoo in Monroe. She took it home. It died. No turtles were involved that I know of, but it was a busy year for Rod and Tony. A lot of excitement, good and bad, going on in the world. The beginning of a new era. “Hots” would hit the road to the Phoenix Suns, then the L.A. Lakers, until he found his way to New Orleans and has been with the Jazz ever since. Tony has seen it all, the NBA, the NHL, the AFL, the WNBA and MLB. Forty five years later, those two are still at it. Nowadays, they’re the ones living the dream. Tony sits in the good seats at Lakers games. Front row, right next to the $2500 thrones. Rod does the same on any given night in the NBA. Two peas in a pod. The photo speaks volumes. Haha. Get it?
TRAINING CAMP 2008 I traveled to Idaho and stayed in a hotel where I heard the home sickening sounds of southern accents. No, it wasn’t a refrigeration conference like last year, this year it was the La. Tech football team and its loyal followers. It was like soaking in rays of moma’s fried chicken and gravy for four and half days. Hhhhhhmmmmm…GOOD. I grubbed with the Jazz’s finest beat writers, all three of them. I heard stories from umpteen years ago about some football player’s daddy, who was the cousin of his mother’s fiancé’s cousin’s sister who was one heck of a ballplayer herself. Just messin’.
As seen in the photos, I made my way onto the Bronco’s blue turf. Not real sure what I was doing with my hands, I reckon I was just happy to be there (and in a hurry, since we weren’t really suppose to be there). A big “Holler!” to my boy Mr. Security Guard. Captured with me on the Smurf Turf are my mentors, Derek and Jonathan. We go together like peas and carrots. Back to the basketball side of things, my first training camp was like a training camp to me, except, of course the fact that I didn’t have to physically exert myself, sweat profusely and desperately plead for oxygen. But I’ve never had to do that. Just that oxygen thing once in Colorado. I definitely blame it on the elevation. Thanks Coach! I have my favorites from camp and am definitely excited for the season to start. It’ll be fun to watch how things play out. Heading into the preseason without any major injuries, besides McNamara’s whiplash, Knight’s strained back, and a little sea-sickness from K. Lyde, is a plus. Kosta is a hard workin’ rookie. Price can still jump out of the gym and is quicker than a duck on a junebug. It might be “The Year of C.J.” and it might not. I’d go on, but I’m tired. The ‘NBA nap’ didn’t exist this week. I almost forgot, I found my luggage, my cell phone and got my room key card operating. I ran into Deron in the hallway of the hotel. He said “hey.” Oh yeah, and Booz got my name right all week.
TRAINING CAMP 2008 Two-a-day practices, two hours each, run by Coach Sloan. All I could say was I hope they ate their grits. I didn’t, but those protein bars came in real handy. Not sure what I would have done without them. Day 1 was a day of acclimation. From the layout of the maze of a hotel, to the directions to BSU, to how hard it is not to watch every minute of a practice coached by a Hall of Famer. I dug deep and remembered his words. “Don’t show anyone you’re tired.” Coach Sloan dropped some funnies during the practices that I have to keep to myself and assistant coach Tyrone Corbin had one of his own. He asked to borrow my pen and it happened to be a pen from my daddy’s feed and supply store. So he proceeds to ask, “What do you feed?” Korver and I hammed it up for a good two minutes (the recorder said 1:49, but two sounded better) while he was lacing up his new Converse on Day 2. He liked my Jazz jacket. I told him thanks. I asked him if he ever ran the rolling hills of Iowa to get in shape for basketball season. He didn’t. But, I had to. The coaches at Willie P didn’t play around. He knows Willie P too, we were rivals with his parents’ alma mater. (Willie P, a.k.a. William Penn University, in Iowa is my alma mater.)
Well, Kyle says this, “I used to just shoot all the time. I’ve always prided myself in working hard, but I don’t think I worked very smart. That’s where the stuff this summer really came in to play. I was working hard and smart. It felt good. I used to run, dribble the ball with my left hand, basics like that, but nothing very productive when I look back at it now. I used to shoot all the time, in the backyard, the gym, anywhere there was a hoop, I was shooting.” His working hard and smart this summer was a result of a visit to Santa Barbara and Marcus Elliott’s Peak Performance Project. “The Jazz recommended it, I went down there and it was just a different way to train that I’ve never done before. It was very technical. He’s measuring how much power you have coming off each leg, using video so you can watch yourself make your turn, make your jump, make your lift. That was definitely good for me. And for just the last few weeks, pretty much every single guy was back in town in Utah, just playing pickup games in the morning, shooting, and working out.” I also did my best to ham it up with Kosta too. It was tough, but here’s what I got. The General: Are you sore at all? Sounds a lot like my first interview with someone else on the team. I’ll try harder next time. I met Coach Sloan’s childhood friend and it came out that we share the same last name. (Part of the issue with my unfound luggage). He got a kick out of that and apparently we’re friends for the long haul. He says we share the same nickname. No way! Meanwhile, before the players arrived at the arena for another morning practice, I found this. The team attendants and assistant trainer/equipment manager Brian Zettler had a pickup game of their own going on with Jazz legend Jeff Hornacek. Yeah, he was there to work on shooting techniques with the players, but the Broncos just had the leave the football laying around. MEDIA DAY 2008 Don't get your hopes up for any exciting stories about Paul Millsap remembering my name, giving me a shout out, or even cracking a smile. He just asked me where he needed to go. That's my boy! But Boozer dropped the 'what's up Hannah Montana' right out of the gates. Was that really necessary? I mean, if I've told him once, I've told him five times, it's the General. He got it right later and even threw out a salute. I'm cool with that. He and I talked a little baseball. He caught a few Yankees games this summer. He even asked about the Bees. Then, of course, it was time for him to take another photo. Coach Sloan and I caught up too. He doesn't like baseball. He says it's like watching corn grow.
Memo's new hairdo and beard was a sight for sore eyes and the new proud papa Collins somehow wound up with a box of donuts that he was offering to the lot. It's a girl! Brevin Knight says it's hard being away from his family, especially after having spent every day of the summer with them. He gets his new place this weekend while his family stays in Charlotte. He's been doing it for 12 years now. The rook did the typical rookie duties. He was practically the last to get his photos taken, the last for the one-on-one interviews, pretty much the last Greek there. It was all yes sir and yes ma'am from Kosta Koufos. My moma's kind of guy. Besides running around in really uncomfortable shoes, the day was a success. We made it our own. Then, a couple hours later, I was on the team plane facing backwards but trying not to let my lunch go. But beautiful Boise here I am. I'll get the goods from the experience here and send it your way.
|
It was a rookie hiatus, she had to get her feet wet. Soaked actually. Put through the ringer, the General is back to tell about it. Season Two begins with Communications Coordinator Hannah “The General” Lee. If you missed the 
