WBEZ | sports

The Stephen Rodrick interview

Thu, 23 May 2013 07:40:00 -0500

Stephen Rodrick's "The Magical Stranger: A Son's Journey Into His Magical Life," explores the life of his father, a Navy pilot who died when his plane crashed into the ocean, through the lens of current members of his dad's former squadron as he traveled with them on their aircraft carrier. You may also know him as the New York Times author of "Here Is What Happens When You Cast Lindsay Lohan in Your Movie," the fascinating look at...well, you can figure it out. He is a contributing writer for The New York Times Magazine and a contributing editor for Men's Journal and his work has been anthologized in The Best American Sports Writing, The Best American Crime Writing and The Best American Political Writing. He has also written for New York, Rolling Stone, GQ, and The New Republic. Chicagoans, you can watch him speak Thursday at Northwestern and later at the Boarding House, so check him out.

I know a lot of people in the book opted not to read it until it came out, but how much did you feel compelled to alert about what you would publishing about them?
Not as many as you'd think. Most of my family members and the guys in the Navy said "Write what you see." That was incredibly freeing. The only person who got a pre-read was my Mom and we worked out her problems with it, that wasn't easy, but we got through it.

Why now?
My dad's plane, the EA-6B Prowler was finally being retired. It was my Dad's plane. If I was going to follow his old plane with his final squadron it had to be now. So that was a great motivator.

In an interview with the Awl you discuss your initial efforts to sell the story, which were unsuccessful. As a magazine writer I imagine you have a lot of experience pitching stories: what’s the difference when it’s your own life, both in terms of the pitch and how you feel if it gets passed on?
Actually, I wasn't unsuccessful. I sent in my proposal, my agent slapped a cover page on it and we had an auction a few days later. The editor I mentioned passed on it, but there were other offers on the table thank goodness. We sent it out to probably seven or eight places, some passed, some didn't. The different in pitching this versus a magazine piece is I knew what I wanted to do and was prepared to take less money from a place that would let me tell the story as I wanted it to be written. That isn't always possible in magazines.

What are some of the biggest real-life cliches about living on an aircraft carrier?
The noise. You can not imagine how loud the flight deck is. You can not imagine how a catapult launch will nearly shake you out of your bunk. There is noise everywhere and all the time.

What’s one (or two or three) things you wished you had packed for carrier life that you hadn’t?
I wished I'd packed ear plugs and more clothes. Trying to do laundry on a boat with 5,000 men and women was a real "Lord of the Flies" experience.

In that Awl interview you talk about the parallels between being a military kid and the transience of a magazine writer’s life. For someone considering doing what you do, what tips do you have for making it easier to pick up and move quickly to a new story and location?
An understanding spouse. If you don't have a partner who is independent enough to survive when you're gone 10 weeks of the year, it's going to be tough. And try to park yourself in a place where stories are happening all around. If you're in Chicago, stay in Chicago. Plenty of great stories here.

I’m curious how you pitched the Lindsay Lohan story to your editor at the Times, because while it was a story about Lindsay Lohan and what a mess she is, obviously it was much more than that.

It was really simple: Lindsay Lohan. Bret Easton Ellis. Paul Schrader. The porn star next door. Complete access. That story was green-lighted in about ten minutes. That is the exact opposite of most pitches and it was because I knew Schrader a little and I emailed him directly and didn't have to go through a squadron of publicists. Lohan's people balked, but Schrader insisted to his everlasting credit.

How much do you hold on to grudges when it comes to stories you’ve pitched and believed in, that got killed? Are there any that you still lament didn’t see the light of day?
I try not to bear grudges, but there is a certain pain when you see your idea at another magazine simply because you couldn't convince your editor of the idea. It doesn't get easier as you get old. I did a story on Wilmette native Julia Allison who was basically internet famous for no real reason. It got killed by New York and I place it elsewhere. I think it's one of my best profiles and it's a bummer it didn't reach a larger audience

Which athletes, either who you’ve profiled or you’ve just followed as a fan, do you think have established some of the best post-athletic-career lives and careers?

That's a good question. Many of the players I written about—Brett Favre, Riddick Bowe, Dennis Rodman—has struggled mightily in retirement. Grant Hill is retiring this year. I suspect he will do great things

What are some of your favorite pieces of creative nonfiction?

Updike's "Hub Fans Bid The Kid Adieu." Anything by Julian Barnes. The flying stuff by James Salter is the best.

How does it feel to be the 350th person interviewed for Zulkey.com/WBEZ?
Grateful and unworthy.

Follow Claire Zulkey @Zulkey You can find previous Zulkey.com interviews here.

The Fairway Flapper

Wed, 15 May 2013 05:00:00 -0500

The latest screen version of The Great Gatsby opened this week. That calls to mind the story of Chicago’s own Edith Cummings.

Born in 1899, Cummings grew up in Lake Forest among the social elite. She attended an exclusive boarding school and made her formal debut. Her father and brother were golfers. It seemed natural for Edith to take up the game.

She became very good very fast. There were no female golf pros yet, so Cummings played in the few amateur tournaments open to women. In 1919 she qualified to compete in the U.S. Women’s Amateur for the first time.

Cummings became a favorite of the galleries. She was young, beautiful, and bursting with energy.

“She swaggered like a bullfighter, ready to pounce on any mistake her opponent made,” one reporter wrote. A magazine called her the Fairway Flapper, and the name stuck.

Cummings built up an impressive file of press clippings. Yet she couldn’t seem to win a championship. After another near miss, one of her fans said “Too much dancing, too much bootleg liquor.”

In 1923 she finally broke through. The Women’s Amateur was being played at the Westchester Country Club outside New York City, and Cummings advanced to the 36-hole final match against the country’s top female golfer, Alexa Stirling. This time the Fairway Flapper was ready. Cummings closed out the three-time champion on the 34th green, 3 & 2.

Her victory made Cummings a national celebrity. She was featured in newspapers and all the “ladies’ magazines.” The climax was a cover story in Time magazine on August 25, 1924. Cummings was the first female athlete—indeed, the first golfer—featured on the magazine’s cover.

The Time story came as Cummings was about to defend her Amateur title. But the magic was gone. Cummings was eliminated in an early round of match play. After 1924 she seemed to lose interest in competitive golf. She never won another tournament.

In 1934 Cummings married businessman Curtis Munson. When she died in 1984, most of the sporting world had forgotten her. And yet, Edith Cummings did attain her own bit of indirect immortality.

While in boarding school she’d met a young Princeton student named F. Scott Fitzgerald. Years later, in The Great Gatsby, Fitzgerald created the character “Jordan Baker”–a champion golfer–based on Cummings. Trouble was, in Gatsby, the lady golfer is a cheater.

Why would Fitzgerald portray his old friend that way? There are probably a dozen scholarly journal articles offering an explanation. In any case, nobody ever accused the real Edith Cummings of any rules-bending or underhanded play. Win or lose, the Fairway Flapper from Chicago was always a credit to the game.

City, Cubs push $500 million Wrigley renovation

Mon, 15 Apr 2013 06:09:00 -0500

The Chicago Cubs and the city have agreed on details of a $500 million facelift for Wrigley Field, including an electronic video screen that is nearly three times as large as the one currently atop the centerfield bleachers of the 99-year-old ballpark.

Under terms of the agreement, the Cubs would also be able to increase the number of night games at Wrigley Field from 30 to 40 — or nearly half the games played there each season. They would give Cubs chairman Tom Ricketts the ability to renovate the second-oldest park in the major leagues, boost business and perhaps make baseball's most infamous losers competitive again.

Mayor Rahm Emanuel hailed what the two sides called a "framework" agreement in a joint statement issued Sunday night, noting that it includes no taxpayer funding. That had been one of the original requests of the Ricketts family in a long-running renovation dispute that at times involved everything from cranky ballpark neighbors to ward politics and even the re-election campaign of President Barack Obama.

"This framework allows the Cubs to restore the Friendly Confines (of Wrigley) and pursue their economic goals, while respecting the rights and quality of life of its neighbors," Emanuel said.

Still uncertain was how the agreement will sit with owners of nearby buildings who provide rooftop views of the ball games under an agreement with the Cubs that goes back years. They have threatened to sue if the renovations obstruct their view, which they claim would drive them out of business.

On Monday, a spokesman for the rooftop owners said the group would have a statement later, but in the meantime referred the AP to the group's statement released earlier this month that says: "Any construction that interrupts the rooftop views will effectually drive them out of business and be challenged in a court of law."

The Cubs said the video screen they are proposing to build is 6,000 square feet, and would be built with "minimal impact on rooftops with whom (the) Cubs have an agreement." The current centerfield scoreboard is slightly more than 2,000 square feet; the Cubs also have plans to add a left-field sign of 1,000 square feet.

"Rooftop views are largely preserved," the team said in its announcement. "The Cubs have agreed to install only two signs in the outfield — a videoboard in left field and a sign in right field. This is far less than our original desire for seven signs to help offset the cost of ballpark restoration."

The signs offer the team a chance to reach new advertising deals and pay for the overhaul, even if it might change the character of the historic park. The city and club said they hope the agreement would allow the Cubs to obtain necessary city approvals for the work by the end of the current season.

The Ricketts family, which bought the Cubs in 2009 for $845 million, initially sought tax funding for renovation plans. With that out in the new agreement, the owners will seek to open new revenue streams outside the stadium. Under the agreement, the Ricketts family would be allowed to build a 175-room hotel, a plaza, and an office building with retail space and a health club, and provide 1,000 "remote" parking spots that will be free and come with shuttle service.

"We are anxious to work with our community as we seek the approvals required to move the project forward," Ricketts said in the statement.

The site of Babe Ruth's "called shot" home run in the 1932 World Series and more heartbreak than Cubs fans would like to remember, Wrigley Field is younger only than Boston's Fenway Park in the majors. It has long been a treasured showplace for baseball purists — night games were only added in 1988 — but team officials for years have desperately wanted a true upgrade, saying it costs as much as $15 million a year just to keep up with basic repairs.

The ballpark has also played no small part in the lore of the team, as fans were reminded April 10 when someone delivered a goat's head in a box addressed to Ricketts. Neither the team nor the Chicago Police Department have talked about a possible motive for the strange delivery, but as every fan knows it was in the 1945 World Series when a tavern owner arrived at the park with his pet goat — which had a ticket.

According to legend, the owner was told the goat smelled and was denied entry. The angry tavern owner then put the "Curse of the Billy Goat" on the Cubs — and the team has not been back to the World Series since. The last World Series championship for the Cubs came in 1908 — six years before Wrigley was built.

After failing to reach an agreement when Mayor Richard Daley was in office, the Ricketts family kept talking after Emanuel took office in 2011. But even presidential politics presented an obstacle for the plans at one point.

During the 2012 election, the patriarch of the Ricketts family, which created the TD Ameritrade brokerage firm, was considering a $10 million campaign against Obama that would refer to the racially incendiary sermons delivered by the Rev. Jeremiah Wright at a Chicago church the president once attended. J. Joseph Ricketts dropped the proposal, but the episode brought a huge dose of unwanted bad press and angered Emanuel, Obama's former White House chief of staff.

In recent weeks, fans also had to deal with the unlikely specter of the Cubs leaving Chicago. With the talks bogged down, the mayor of nearby Rosemont piped up, saying the village located near O'Hare International Airport would be willing to let the Cubs have 25 acres free of charge to build a replica of Wrigley Field.

Lost landmark of Evergreen Golf Club

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 05:00:00 -0500

April is here. The golf clubs come out of the basement and into my car’s trunk. And yet the time is bittersweet. I’m starting the third season without my favorite course—Evergreen Golf Club.

Evergreen was located at Western and 91^st, in Evergreen Park. It wasn’t fancy and it wasn’t a great course. Yet in its own funky way, it was historic.

The site had originally been part of the Ahern farm. In 1924 the family opened an 18-hole daily fee course. Also on the property was a road house called the Beverly Gardens. At a time when most golf was played at private clubs, there weren’t many courses open to the public.

All sorts of people played Evergreen in those days. The most notorious regular was Machine Gun Jack McGurn, Al Capone’s chief trigger-man. McGurn was a scratch player who once competed in the Western Open. Big Al came out to the course a few times, too.

John Dillinger also visited Evergreen, but not to play golf. On New Year’s Eve 1933, Dillinger and six pals stuck up the road house, shot it out with the local cops, and got away with $500.

I grew up on the Northwest Side, and never got around to playing Evergreen until the 1990s. Then I fell in love with the place. The Beverly Gardens had long since burned down, and the clubhouse was a little frame building with asbestos siding that looked like a renovated tool shed. But the green fees were cheap and it was seldom crowded.

The course was split in half by a live freight track, which you crossed four times during your 18 holes. Many of the holes were wide open and easy. A few were tricky, with narrow, tree-lined fairways and blind shots to elevated greens. Some were just weird—on the thirteenth, you teed off at roof-level of the houses behind you on 93^rd Place.

One thing I appreciated was that the course was never littered with goose droppings. The greens crew simply let their dogs run free, and that kept the geese away.

By now the course was owned by Anna May “Babe” Ahern. She’d been born on the property in 1907 and was listed as the club pro. All the years I played at Evergreen, there’s was talk that the course was going to be sold to a developer, or Wal-Mart, or the Village of Evergreen Park. But like Babe Ahern, Evergreen went on.

On October 14, 2010, I holed-out a full 5-iron shot on Evergreen’s seventeenth. In nearly fifty years of golf, it was only my second eagle. Not wanting to spoil my mood, I skipped the last hole and walked off the course.

That was the last shot I ever hit at Evergreen. The next month Babe Ahern finally found a buyer who would pay her price, and the month after that she herself died, at 103.

I’ve driven past Evergreen’s site a few times in the last few years, and seen the development taking place. I realize that change is inevitable. But sometimes it comes too damn quickly.

Phil Cavarretta, hometown Cubs hero

Mon, 08 Apr 2013 05:00:00 -0500

Last week, for the White Sox opener, we talked about Johnny Mostil, a native Chicagoan who played his entire major league career in a Chicago uniform, and was also a Sox star. Today is the Cubs home opener. Today the subject is a Cubs star.

Phil Cavarretta was born twenty years after Mostil, in 1916. Unlike Mostil, he made it to the major leagues quickly. Phil was only 18, and a few months out of Lane Tech, when the Cubs signed him in 1934. In his first appearance at Wrigley Field, he hit a home run.

The next season Cavarretta became the Cubs’ regular first baseman. He developed into a solid left-handed hitter known for his hustling style of play. Injuries plagued him. Separate broken ankles kept him out of action for much of two seasons.

Cavarretta was rejected for World War II service because of a hearing problem. Now in his late 20s, he hit his playing peak. In 1944 he made the All-Star team for the first time. The next year was Cavarretta’s year.

In 1945 Cavarretta hit .355 to win the National League batting championship. He was named the league’s Most Valuable Player, and led his team into the World Series–the last time the Cubs made it that far. Though the team lost, Phil batted .423 for the seven games.

After the war ended, Cavarretta was named an All-Star twice more, showing he was more than a wartime flash. Meanwhile, the Cubs were going into a long decline. In 1951 team owner P.K. Wrigley made his most popular player the manager.

Cavarretta continued to play part-time. His record as a manager was mixed. Just before the start of the 1954 season, Wrigley fired him. Always honest, Cavarretta had told his boss that the team had no hope of making the first division.

But Cavarretta wasn't through. After 20 years with the Cubs, he now signed with the White Sox as a first baseman and pinch-hitter. He got into 71 games and hit .316. That proved to be his final spurt. Early in the 1955 season the Sox released him.

Cavarretta stayed in baseball another two decades, managing in the minor leagues, working as a hitting coach, and doing some scouting. He died in 2010 at the age of 94. At the time of his death he was the last major leaguer to have played against Babe Ruth.

Johnny Mostil, hometown Sox hero

Mon, 01 Apr 2013 05:00:00 -0500

Opening day at Sox Park!

At some time or another, most boys growing up around Chicago dream of playing for one of the hometown baseball teams. Few ever make it. Even then, the Chicagoans who do get to the big time usually wind up with other ball clubs

So today let's look at one of those rarities, a native Chicagoan who played his entire major league career in a Chicago uniform. He was Johnny Mostil--and he was a star, too.

Born in Chicago in 1896, Johnny was a boy when his family moved a few miles over the Indiana line to Whiting.

He started playing semi-pro baseball as a teenager, mostly as an infielder. During the war-year 1918 he signed with the Sox and got into a few games.

The war ended, the regulars returned, and Johnny went back to work at Montgomery Ward. Then the “Black Sox” scandal hit.

Eight Sox players were kicked out of baseball for throwing the World Series. Suddenly the team needed replacements. Mostil rejoined the Sox in 1921, this time for good.

By now he was an outfielder. Writers covering the team were impressed with his defensive skills, comparing him to the legendary Tris Speaker. Once Centerfielder Mostil managed to catch a fly ball in foul territory, something even Speaker never did.

He became one of the team’s most popular players. The people in Whiting were proud of him, and traffic on the South Shore Line spiked whenever Mostil and the Sox were playing at Comiskey. His former colleagues at Ward’s even staged a Johnny Mostil Day at the ballpark.

Mostil twice led the American League in stolen bases. He could hit, too–his batting average was usually over .300, peaking at .328 in 1926. That year he was runner-up for the league’s Most Valuable Player award.

The Sox were in spring training at Shreveport in 1927. On the morning of March 9, Mostil tried to commit suicide by slashing his chest and wrists with a razor. The team announced he was suffering from neuritis, and had endured constant headaches and sleepless nights. Insiders whispered that he was depressed over a shattered love affair.

Mostil recovered and came back late in the 1927 season. But he was never the same player. The Sox released him in 1929.

He later managed in the minor leagues, and eventually became a White Sox scout. Johnny Mostil died at his home in Midlothian in 1970.

Pasta Madness Final Four

Thu, 28 Mar 2013 08:37:00 -0500

Let's be real: Pasta Madness has been a lot more exciting and fun than actual March Madness. No matter who you are, your bracket has been completely busted to hell by now and your favorite team has probably already long been eliminated. But pasta will always be there for you. Even when your team loses you still win, because, pasta.

Let's look at the latest games:

Linguine vs. Gemelli. Linguine's got a lot going for it and really nothing is wrong with it, per se, but Gemelli just has more. Gemelli is, by definition, twin pastas, and two of something great is always going to have an edge over just one. It's like, would you rather have one beautiful wife or two? Plus, as a short pasta, Gemelli is a more female-friendly pasta because you can just fork it up, as opposed to worrying about splattering one of your top three most embarrassing places on your body, like you would with linguine. I know I'm sort of like the Ken "Hawk" Harrelson when it comes to Gemelli: I've been a fan since day one and am not ashamed of it. Well, deal with it. I'm here to cheer for Gemelli until they fire me. Winner: Gemelli.

Pappardelle vs. Farfalle. This game is a little bit like what happens when the snobby rich kids (pappardelle) play the down-and-out scrappy kids from the other side of the tracks. Only in this case, the rich kids win because they're better in every way. Last week, I fingered farfalle as being guilty of frequently dwelling in second-and-third-tier pasta salads. Pappardelle, on the other hand, is usually a fancy, oft-handmade pasta that rests in beautiful wide ribbons and boasts something rich and earthy like rare mushrooms or unicorn meat. Farfalle, I'm sorry to say but you just couldn't beat those rich kids this time. Winner: Pappardelle

Next week is serious. I may actually have to eat some Gemelli and some Pappardelle to see who wins. This is the type of dedication I show towards this project. You are welcome.

@Zulkey

The Chicago Stadium--big barn on Madison St.

Thu, 28 Mar 2013 05:00:00 -0500

The Chicago Stadium was a direct outgrowth of the Second City Syndrome.

Whenever New York did something fabulous, Chicago had to top it. In 1925 the First City had dedicated the new Madison Square Garden, an indoor sports arena that could accommodate 20,000 spectators. So now the Second City would do better.

The driving force behind the Chicago Stadium project was Paddy Harmon, a West Side promoter who’d made his rep running dance halls. In 1926 he organized a syndicate of investors, and they quietly began buying up property around Madison and Wood streets. They eventually acquired a square block.

When plans for the Stadium became public, many people were skeptical. This whole giant barn was too immense! And once ground was broken and construction got under way, strikes by 17 different craft unions delayed the project. Still, Harmon pressed ahead.

"It'll be a grand thing for Chicago," he told anyone who would listen. "You’ll be seeing fights there, and bike races, and big conventions. People will be coming from all over the country to see the events we’ll be putting on."

Harmon’s syndicate sunk $7 million into the project—close to $100 million in today’s money. On March 28, 1929 the Stadium was ready. Chicago now had the world’s largest sport’s arena, with a total capacity of 25,000.

Opening night featured a boxing card. The main event was the light-heavyweight title bout between Tommy Loughran and Mickey Walker. Fifteen thousand fights fans came out.

And, hey! The joint sure was impressive. The soaring walls towered over the surrounding cottages and tenements. Attached to those walls, two vertical electric signs spelled out “STADIUM” in giant letters.

But it was the inside that knocked your socks off. Three balconies full of bright red chairs circling the room. Twelve huge iron girders holding up the roof–no posts to block your view. And the noise! Fifteen thousand voices echoing up and back and around and through. Yeah, it was gonna be fun coming here!

While Loughran was busy beating Walker, interns at nearby County Hospital spotted flames shooting from the Stadium’s roof. Firemen were called, and they extinguished a burning tar barrel. The spectators inside didn’t learn of the blaze until they opened their papers the next morning.

As Harmon had predicted, the Chicago Stadium became a popular venue for sporting events, concerts, political conventions, pageants, and other large gatherings. It was torn down in 1994, replaced by the United Center across the street.

Paddy Harmon did not witness his arena’s greatest glory. He was killed in an auto accident a little more than a year after the grand opening. In keeping with his last wish, Harmon’s wake was held at the Stadium.

Loyola makes basketball history, part two

Thu, 14 Mar 2013 05:00:00 -0500

Faced with a governor trying to stop them from playing Loyola, the Mississippi State basketball team did the honorable thing—they snuck out of the state. When the two teams faced off, security was tight. The game went off without a hitch. Loyola came from behind to win, 61-51.

Loyola’s next game was more relaxed, with no off-court drama. They blew past Illinois, 79-64.

Next the Ramblers moved to Louisville for the Final Four. Their opening opponent was Duke, another all-white team from the South, ranked #2 in the nation. Again Loyola won easily, 94-75.

Now it was Saturday, March 23, 1963. Loyola was set to meet the Cincinnati Bearcats for the NCAA championship. It was a dream match-up—college basketball’s top offense versus college basketball’s toughest defense. And few people gave Loyola a chance.

Cincinnati had won the last two NCAA tournaments. They were trying to become the first college in history to post a three-peat. The current team had an aura of invincibility. Some bookies were listing the Bearcats as 25-to-1 favorites.

Loyola looked nervous in the first half, missing 13 of their first 14 shots. Harkness was totally shut out. Luckily for the Ramblers, Cincinnati was having problems, too. The half ended with Cincinnati on top, but only by 29-21.

Cincinnati came out hard in the second half, widening their lead to 45-30. However, three players were in foul trouble. With nearly 15 minutes left, the Cincinnati coach decided to play safe and put on a stall. In 1963 there was no shot-clock.

Loyola began to chip away at the lead. Harkness finally came to life, scored a basket, then stole the ball and followed up with another one. Before Cincinnati realized what was happening, Loyola had closed to within 3 points.

By now most of the 20,000 fans in the stands were cheering for underdog Loyola. With 12 seconds left, Loyola still trailed 54-52. Then Hunter grabbed a rebound, passed it to Miller, who passed it to Harkness—who put in a 12-footer. Regulation time ended with the score tied.

Overtime! The teams traded points back and forth. As the clock wound down with the score 58-58, now it was Loyola’s turn to stall, playing for the last shot. In the final seconds, Hunter shot and missed. But Rouse got the ball and made the basket, just beating the buzzer. Loyola-60, Cincinnati-58.

"The greatest comeback in basketball history," one writer called it. Loyola had become the first Illinois school to win an NCAA Division I basketball championship. A half-century later, it’s still the only one.

There is a local post-script. The Loyola-Cincinnati game had gone out live over the radio. But the TV broadcast back to Chicago was on tape-delay. So throughout the city, many crafty radio listeners used their knowledge of Loyola’s amazing comeback to clean up on bar-room bets.

This last story may be only an urban legend. But I wouldn’t bet on it.

Retiring as a soccer mom

Wed, 13 Mar 2013 06:00:00 -0500

It's over. After years of sweating or freezing watching a multitude of games in various sports, my career as a sports (mostly soccer) mom is over. I’m being forced into retirement, no longer sitting on wonderful bleacher seats to watch the only player who mattered to me: my son.

As a sports reporter, I've seen thousands of professional games. You analyze and question all the different nuances of the game as you watch. You go to practices, pre-game warm-ups, stay through the game and then go the post-game to get players and coach’s reactions. You are not a fan during that time.

This is not a complaint, but a matter-of-fact element of the job. You absorb, question and process the sport.

When you are a mom, it is simpler but more emotional. And at the younger ages, it's very pure. We let our son try a variety of sports: baseball, basketball, tennis, volleyball, golf and soccer. He did reach his black belt level in taekwondo, a shared accomplishment with his dad. Soccer was a mainstay for my son and the sport my husband played in high school and college.

For the star athlete, sports may be their best way of racking up accomplishments and satisfaction. That wasn’t the case for our son. He took the route of doing it for fun and to be part of the team. No travel for any sport.

He is not a gifted athlete. He was born later then the kids in his grade, so size and physical maturity didn't measure up to his teammates. He did possess the ability to be coached and was a terrific teammate. We stressed that he focus on playing defense, since that would be appreciated in any sport.

Too bad his freshman soccer coach insisted he play forward instead of defense. It wasn't a fit, but he never complained. He just decided just to play recreational soccer instead.

Now nearing his sixteenth birthday and having other interests, my son will be hanging up his cleats for good. Scratch that. He NEVER hung up anything.

That is something as a mom I will not miss at all. Shoes, gloves, dirty uniforms and empty water bottles never seem to make it to the right place. Add these to the list: Washing mud off shoes, trying to get grass stains off a uniform and buying shoes last minute because of a growth spurt.

There are several things I will miss.

Gratefully, my husband is a camera buff so the most magical sports moments have been caught. Like as a 5-year-old when he ran to first base with the biggest smile and just sat down once he got there.

One indoor soccer season as a goalie, my son was nearly flawless and only giving up a few scores. His second year of golf at age 10, he played a nine-hole public course and got a hole-in-one. He had no clue what that meant.

Coming off the bench in a volleyball tournament in eighth grade he led a win in a deciding match and was picked up by his teammates in celebration. After that day he would be a starter.

Watching him use his hands to break several boards to earn his black belt, I was just I relieved he wasn't hurt.

There were plenty of times he would be on the bench, but he liked to talk with his teammates. He never disrespected a coach or an official.

Here is some unsolicited advice to young parents. Enjoy the moment, don’t push and make sure the kids are having fun. Chances of becoming a professional are really, really slim. If they do have phenomenal talent, let a coach tell you. You need to have perspective when you analyze your child's ability. Don't live through your son or daughter.

Last weekend it felt sad leaving the soccer venue for Jaxon's last game. But he played hard and had a smile when he was done. I didn't realize until that moment I was retiring from a great job: soccer mom.

Follow Cheryl on Twitter @CRayeStout and Facebook Cheryl Raye Stout #AtTheGame