Nick Cushing Named Interim Head Coach (July '22) / Head Coach (November '22)

[KevinJRogers]

Nice puff piece on Nick on the site today. Whatever his virtues as a coach, he's a footballer to his fingertips. Good dude, too.

Hudson River Derby | Nick Cushing's Love Of The Game | New York City FC

Nick Cushing could hear his dad pulling up to the house. The best part of the week had arrived as father and son could now begin their bi-weekly pilgrimage to Goodison Park, home to one of England’s oldest football clubs, Everton. Cushing can recall memories of Everton from as early

www.nycfc.com

 

[ZYanksRule]

Nice puff piece on Nick on the site today. Whatever his virtues as a coach, he's a footballer to his fingertips. Good dude, too.

Hudson River Derby | Nick Cushing's Love Of The Game | New York City FC

Nick Cushing could hear his dad pulling up to the house. The best part of the week had arrived as father and son could now begin their bi-weekly pilgrimage to Goodison Park, home to one of England’s oldest football clubs, Everton. Cushing can recall memories of Everton from as early

www.nycfc.com

He really does seem like a good dude. Is he too good a dude to be a head coach? Does he instill that killer instinct in his players, or is it a country club?

I like Nick a lot and don't think this season is his fault, but he might just be one of those guys who's a better assistant coach than head coach.

 

[KevinJRogers]

He really does seem like a good dude. Is he too good a dude to be a head coach? Does he instill that killer instinct in his players, or is it a country club?

I like Nick a lot and don't think this season is his fault, but he might just be one of those guys who's a better assistant coach than head coach.

Legitimate questions. Personally, I think it's clear he has the by-the-numbers stuff down. He knows the game. There's no lack of technical or tactical ability.

The question is whether he has that something extra all the great coaches have. It's an intangible so you can't measure it, or even really describe it. You just know it when you see it. So far, there have been flashes of it, but I'm not sure Nick has truly found it yet.

That being said, I do think it's there to be found.

At any rate, the drama with Chanot happened while I was on hiatus. I was hospitalized from Aug. 8 to Sept. 1 and in pretty bad shape for a few weeks before my trip in the ambulance, and I've been gathering my strength again since discharge. I pretty much missed everything from about the start of the Leagues Cup until now. So, I'm not sure what happened there.

But I see Talles Magno is in the doghouse. To put your best player on ice like that for under-performance (I'm assuming that's the reason) is a pretty ballsy coach's move. To the measure of my thinking, it's a very good sign.

(Full disclosure: I've thought from the beginning Nick is our guy, and for the long term. Right dude, right time. Whether that's just wishful thinking remains to be seen.)

 

[ZYanksRule]

Legitimate questions. Personally, I think it's clear he has the by-the-numbers stuff down. He knows the game. There's no lack of technical or tactical ability.

The question is whether he has that something extra all the great coaches have. It's an intangible so you can't measure it, or even really describe it. You just know it when you see it. So far, there have been flashes of it, but I'm not sure Nick has truly found it yet.

That being said, I do think it's there to be found.

At any rate, the drama with Chanot happened while I was on hiatus. I was hospitalized from Aug. 8 to Sept. 1 and in pretty bad shape for a few weeks before my trip in the ambulance, and I've been gathering my strength again since discharge. I pretty much missed everything from about the start of the Leagues Cup until now. So, I'm not sure what happened there.

But I see Talles Magno is in the doghouse. To put your best player on ice like that for under-performance (I'm assuming that's the reason) is a pretty ballsy coach's move. To the measure of my thinking, it's a very good sign.

(Full disclosure: I've thought from the beginning Nick is our guy, and for the long term. Right dude, right time. Whether that's just wishful thinking remains to be seen.)

I would like to see him be our guy, but 2 wins in 20 games and missing the playoffs makes it really hard to believe he'll still be here next season. I don't think he got a fair shot here (Taty leaving right as he took over, then this mess of a roster for 24 games), but I find it hard to believe how he survives this.

 

[JayH]

Legitimate questions. Personally, I think it's clear he has the by-the-numbers stuff down. He knows the game. There's no lack of technical or tactical ability.

The question is whether he has that something extra all the great coaches have. It's an intangible so you can't measure it, or even really describe it. You just know it when you see it. So far, there have been flashes of it, but I'm not sure Nick has truly found it yet.

That being said, I do think it's there to be found.

At any rate, the drama with Chanot happened while I was on hiatus. I was hospitalized from Aug. 8 to Sept. 1 and in pretty bad shape for a few weeks before my trip in the ambulance, and I've been gathering my strength again since discharge. I pretty much missed everything from about the start of the Leagues Cup until now. So, I'm not sure what happened there.

But I see Talles Magno is in the doghouse. To put your best player on ice like that for under-performance (I'm assuming that's the reason) is a pretty ballsy coach's move. To the measure of my thinking, it's a very good sign.

(Full disclosure: I've thought from the beginning Nick is our guy, and for the long term. Right dude, right time. Whether that's just wishful thinking remains to be seen.)

Most importantly, I hope that you are doing better and your recovery is super smooth.

 

[KevinJRogers]

I would like to see him be our guy, but 2 wins in 20 games and missing the playoffs makes it really hard to believe he'll still be here next season. I don't think he got a fair shot here (Taty leaving right as he took over, then this mess of a roster for 24 games), but I find it hard to believe how he survives this.

Unfortunately, you've pointed out some harsh realities. In a perfect world he'd get another season with a proper -- and stable -- roster to prove himself, but there's no denying this season has become a disaster. A large part of the reason is our inability to play up to our potential. And ultimately the head coach is responsible for the product on the pitch. I'm not sure he can survive this, either.

 

[ZYanksRule]

Unfortunately, you've pointed out some harsh realities. In a perfect world he'd get another season with a proper -- and stable -- roster to prove himself, but there's no denying this season has become a disaster. A large part of the reason is our inability to play up to our potential. And ultimately the head coach is responsible for the product on the pitch. I'm not sure he can survive this, either.

If the young players were developing nicely, maybe I could see an argument for him returning. Magno and Santi have had awful seasons and regressed. Those are two of our most important players; if they are better, we are comfortably in the playoffs. Sands hasn't played well this year. Gray is a disaster moving forward. The only young player that seemed to improve under Nick was Pereira. If you're going to have a season like this, you at least need to develop the young players.

 

[KevinJRogers]

Most importantly, I hope that you are doing better and your recovery is super smooth.

Thank you, JayH! It was quite an experience, and a very close call. When I was hospitalized on Aug. 8 my hematocrit -- my red blood count -- was below 20 (normal is 38.3 to 48.6 percent) and I ultimately needed five immediate transfusions, along with antibiotics and nutrients and whatever else they were pumping into me. I wasn't sent to the ICU but believe me, my care was pretty intense, if not intensive. Lots of IVs (I never needed oxygen.)

After I had stabilized and was clearly going to make it my doctor -- Dr. Oleg, part of a cohort of Russian doctors at Ellis Hospital -- walked in, gave me a hearty handshake and said, "You tough guy, you should be dead." We had a good laugh. He especially loved me teasing him back with my Rooskie accent.

Lots of good news: we avoided dialysis and my kidney function has returned almost to normal. My appetite has returned and I've already put 25 lbs. back on (I was skin and bones, down to 151 lbs. when I was weighed the second week of August and I normally walk the streets at about 210). I still have a Foley catheter in but I think that finally comes out on Monday; that's my next urology appointment, so we're going to try. All my vital signs are good and I have good energy again.

The bad news is the root cause of my problems is Stage IV metastatic prostate cancer. What I thought was arthritis in my neck is actually an area where the cancer has caused the bone to disintegrate and it's causing a spinal compression, which affected control of my arms and has produced a drop foot as well as some other fun symptoms. The prostate cancer itself caused the severe anemia, dehydration and ultimately both kidney failure and the total blockage of my GI tract. Rather ugly situation.

Thanks to the combination of anemia and dehydration I was cognitively non-functional and not able to care for myself. Thankfully my neighbor and close friend had the feeling something was wrong and came by to check on me just as my niece arrived to do the same -- I hadn't been responding to any phone calls or texts or posting anything on social media, so the alarms went off. They called for an ambulance, probably just in time.

So, here we are. I'm cleaning up all the follow-ups with nephrology, urology and neurology, and then oncology takes over on Sept. 27. I start with radiation to deal with the issue in my neck (I avoided invasive spinal surgery as well as invasive abdominal surgery, two big wins) and then we pivot to chemo. I also caught a huge break: all the treatments are at the New York Oncology and Hematology facility here in town, which happens to be on the other side of the trees from my house. I could throw a rock and hit the roof.

I'm also feeling really good. Even though my cancer is in a very advanced stage, you wouldn't know it to see me, especially now that I've gotten some treatment. As I said, I'm eating really well and I've put some weight back on, and I'm not that far from being able to exercise again. I have a good strong constitution and a very positive attitude.

I also have no illusions about my situation; the cancer has spread to the bones, and you happen to have bone all over your body. Not good. It's been detected on my pelvis, rib cage, spine and skull, but so far not in the soft tissue. Although of course that's next. The only question is when. It's all a matter of how I respond to the chemo.

Which means there's no way to know how much time I have left, and I haven't asked the question, nor will I ask it. I've always hated that scene in movies, and they're just guessing anyway. Besides, it doesn't matter. Everyone dies eventually. What matters is what you do with your life. I won't lie, I'd love to be there for Opening Day at our stadium, but until then my focus is on making the most of what I'm doing today. One of the things I'll be doing is chronicling this experience, so stay tuned.

I also may finally get a tattoo, even though they're not my thing. Something simple, with just four words: NO FEAR, NO TEARS.

(Or maybe I'll just keep the mantra and skip the body paint. LOL)

 

[KevinJRogers]

If the young players were developing nicely, maybe I could see an argument for him returning. Magno and Santi have had awful seasons and regressed. Those are two of our most important players; if they are better, we are comfortably in the playoffs. Sands hasn't played well this year. Gray is a disaster moving forward. The only young player that seemed to improve under Nick was Pereira. If you're going to have a season like this, you at least need to develop the young players.

This is, unfortunately, another really good point. I'm not sure how much of that is on Nick, but the harsh reality is the head coach is responsible for player development.

In the case of Santi, I've never been a fan of his overall attitude, and I'm not sure his game has ever been quite what a lot of people assumed. He's kind of a hothead, and those guys never seem to get to the "next level," or at least rarely do. I wasn't all that anxious to have him back, and I definitely thought we used up a DP on him unnecessarily. Admittedly, he does have his moments, though. So, it could just be me.

Talles Magno strikes me as kind of the opposite case: someone who is a little fragile psychologically. He tried to play the striker role and put on a brave face but never really looked comfortable and just didn't, or couldn't, perform, and it's been a death spiral for his game ever since. Credit where credit is due, though -- he was the most dangerous man on the pitch in his cameo today, and for a couple minutes we looked like a team who could score. Some of that may have been fresh legs. But still, he immediately found some dangerous spaces.

Whether that's enough to get him out of the doghouse, we shall see. I'm really not sure why he's in the doghouse to begin with. Missed all that during my health crisis. But if for some reason it's Nick being petty, then we do indeed have a gaffer problem for real.

 

[Kenny]

Thank you, JayH! It was quite an experience, and a very close call. When I was hospitalized on Aug. 8 my hematocrit -- my red blood count -- was below 20 (normal is 38.3 to 48.6 percent) and I ultimately needed five immediate transfusions, along with antibiotics and nutrients and whatever else they were pumping into me. I wasn't sent to the ICU but believe me, my care was pretty intense, if not intensive. Lots of IVs (I never needed oxygen.)

After I had stabilized and was clearly going to make it my doctor -- Dr. Oleg, part of a cohort of Russian doctors at Ellis Hospital -- walked in, gave me a hearty handshake and said, "You tough guy, you should be dead." We had a good laugh. He especially loved me teasing him back with my Rooskie accent.

Lots of good news: we avoided dialysis and my kidney function has returned almost to normal. My appetite has returned and I've already put 25 lbs. back on (I was skin and bones, down to 151 lbs. when I was weighed the second week of August and I normally walk the streets at about 210). I still have a Foley catheter in but I think that finally comes out on Monday; that's my next urology appointment, so we're going to try. All my vital signs are good and I have good energy again.

The bad news is the root cause of my problems is Stage IV metastatic prostate cancer. What I thought was arthritis in my neck is actually an area where the cancer has caused the bone to disintegrate and it's causing a spinal compression, which affected control of my arms and has produced a drop foot as well as some other fun symptoms. The prostate cancer itself caused the severe anemia, dehydration and ultimately both kidney failure and the total blockage of my GI tract. Rather ugly situation.

Thanks to the combination of anemia and dehydration I was cognitively non-functional and not able to care for myself. Thankfully my neighbor and close friend had the feeling something was wrong and came by to check on me just as my niece arrived to do the same -- I hadn't been responding to any phone calls or texts or posting anything on social media, so the alarms went off. They called for an ambulance, probably just in time.

So, here we are. I'm cleaning up all the follow-ups with nephrology, urology and neurology, and then oncology takes over on Sept. 27. I start with radiation to deal with the issue in my neck (I avoided invasive spinal surgery as well as invasive abdominal surgery, two big wins) and then we pivot to chemo. I also caught a huge break: all the treatments are at the New York Oncology and Hematology facility here in town, which happens to be on the other side of the trees from my house. I could throw a rock and hit the roof.

I'm also feeling really good. Even though my cancer is in a very advanced stage, you wouldn't know it to see me, especially now that I've gotten some treatment. As I said, I'm eating really well and I've put some weight back on, and I'm not that far from being able to exercise again. I have a good strong constitution and a very positive attitude.

I also have no illusions about my situation; the cancer has spread to the bones, and you happen to have bone all over your body. Not good. It's been detected on my pelvis, rib cage, spine and skull, but so far not in the soft tissue. Although of course that's next. The only question is when. It's all a matter of how I respond to the chemo.

Which means there's no way to know how much time I have left, and I haven't asked the question, nor will I ask it. I've always hated that scene in movies, and they're just guessing anyway. Besides, it doesn't matter. Everyone dies eventually. What matters is what you do with your life. I won't lie, I'd love to be there for Opening Day at our stadium, but until then my focus is on making the most of what I'm doing today. One of the things I'll be doing is chronicling this experience, so stay tuned.

I also may finally get a tattoo, even though they're not my thing. Something simple, with just four words: NO FEAR, NO TEARS.

(Or maybe I'll just keep the mantra and skip the body paint. LOL)

Goddamn. What incredible bravery. I'll be thinking about you Kevin. My wife is a social worker in the outpatient oncology unit at a hospital here in NYC. I know it can be so hard at times. I hope you have a solid support network.

 

[KevinJRogers]

Goddamn. What incredible bravery. I'll be thinking about you Kevin. My wife is a social worker in the outpatient oncology unit at a hospital here in NYC. I know it can be so hard at times. I hope you have a solid support network.

Many close friends and family, Kenny. I'm getting tons of support. I'm truly blessed.

One thing I learned while laid up in the hospital, thinking. We all know -- or should know -- we're meant to help each other. What we forget is, we're meant to be helped, too. That's the other side of the story.

So, now rather than being the lone warrior (a bad tendency I picked up along the way, like many guys), now I just accept whatever comes my way and say, "thank you." Not only is it good for me, it's good for whoever is helping. We're all better for it. And I've been astounded by how much so many people have gone out of their way for me.

By the way, if anyone gets the impression I'm making the most of this situation, you're exactly right. I intend this last phase of my life to be the best phase. Lots of it is going to suck -- chemo is no fun -- and we know what the end result is eventually going to be. But until then, as I've said, no fear, no tears. Let's just get after it, learn as much as we can, share what we learn and pass it along to those who can use it.

 

[GratefulDawg]

Kevin, you're probably being treated very well by your clinical team, but if you need a urologic oncologist, Jim McKiernan from Columbia is tremendous.

 

[KevinJRogers]

Kevin, you're probably being treated very well by your clinical team, but if you need a urologic oncologist, Jim McKiernan from Columbia is tremendous.

Thank you, Dawg! I live upstate, in Saratoga County. Thankfully, most of my resources are connected to Albany Med, which is a Regional Medical Center and teaching hospital. They're pretty good. But if I need to reach out for additional opinions or treatment, I'll definitely keep Dr. McKiernan in mind. It's only about 2 1/2 to 3 hours to Columbia from here.

 

[mgarbowski]

One thing I learned while laid up in the hospital, thinking. We all know -- or should know -- we're meant to help each other. What we forget is, we're meant to be helped, too. That's the other side of the story.

Lots of people have trouble with this. Good for you. Love your attitude overall.
Praying for you.

 

[KevinJRogers]

Lots of people have trouble with this. Good for you. Love your attitude overall.
Praying for you.

Thank you, Mark! Prayers are always welcome. I have my faith for reasons of faith, but I do indeed find a great deal of comfort in it. Maybe that's why I'm so unafraid.

Living is the hard part -- another lesson learned. The worst thing is to be afraid to live.

In any event, I feel really good. In fact, good enough to lace 'em up and go box to box and teach these young 'uns a thing or two about playing to win. They seem to need it.

 

[JayH]

Thank you, Mark! Prayers are always welcome. I have my faith for reasons of faith, but I do indeed find a great deal of comfort in it. Maybe that's why I'm so unafraid.

Living is the hard part -- another lesson learned. The worst thing is to be afraid to live.

In any event, I feel really good. In fact, good enough to lace 'em up and go box to box and teach these young 'uns a thing or two about playing to win. They seem to need it.

Sending lots of sky blue prayers your way. And thank you for sharing your lessons and strength with us, I will definitely take them to heart.

 

[KevinJRogers]

Sending lots of sky blue prayers your way. And thank you for sharing your lessons and strength with us, I will definitely take them to heart.

Thank you, Jay! I've been working on regaining my strength in order to write, and I think I'm there. So, I should be able to get rolling this week. I have quite a story to share.

 

[Gotham Gator]

Thank you, JayH! It was quite an experience, and a very close call. When I was hospitalized on Aug. 8 my hematocrit -- my red blood count -- was below 20 (normal is 38.3 to 48.6 percent) and I ultimately needed five immediate transfusions, along with antibiotics and nutrients and whatever else they were pumping into me. I wasn't sent to the ICU but believe me, my care was pretty intense, if not intensive. Lots of IVs (I never needed oxygen.)

After I had stabilized and was clearly going to make it my doctor -- Dr. Oleg, part of a cohort of Russian doctors at Ellis Hospital -- walked in, gave me a hearty handshake and said, "You tough guy, you should be dead." We had a good laugh. He especially loved me teasing him back with my Rooskie accent.

Lots of good news: we avoided dialysis and my kidney function has returned almost to normal. My appetite has returned and I've already put 25 lbs. back on (I was skin and bones, down to 151 lbs. when I was weighed the second week of August and I normally walk the streets at about 210). I still have a Foley catheter in but I think that finally comes out on Monday; that's my next urology appointment, so we're going to try. All my vital signs are good and I have good energy again.

The bad news is the root cause of my problems is Stage IV metastatic prostate cancer. What I thought was arthritis in my neck is actually an area where the cancer has caused the bone to disintegrate and it's causing a spinal compression, which affected control of my arms and has produced a drop foot as well as some other fun symptoms. The prostate cancer itself caused the severe anemia, dehydration and ultimately both kidney failure and the total blockage of my GI tract. Rather ugly situation.

Thanks to the combination of anemia and dehydration I was cognitively non-functional and not able to care for myself. Thankfully my neighbor and close friend had the feeling something was wrong and came by to check on me just as my niece arrived to do the same -- I hadn't been responding to any phone calls or texts or posting anything on social media, so the alarms went off. They called for an ambulance, probably just in time.

So, here we are. I'm cleaning up all the follow-ups with nephrology, urology and neurology, and then oncology takes over on Sept. 27. I start with radiation to deal with the issue in my neck (I avoided invasive spinal surgery as well as invasive abdominal surgery, two big wins) and then we pivot to chemo. I also caught a huge break: all the treatments are at the New York Oncology and Hematology facility here in town, which happens to be on the other side of the trees from my house. I could throw a rock and hit the roof.

I'm also feeling really good. Even though my cancer is in a very advanced stage, you wouldn't know it to see me, especially now that I've gotten some treatment. As I said, I'm eating really well and I've put some weight back on, and I'm not that far from being able to exercise again. I have a good strong constitution and a very positive attitude.

I also have no illusions about my situation; the cancer has spread to the bones, and you happen to have bone all over your body. Not good. It's been detected on my pelvis, rib cage, spine and skull, but so far not in the soft tissue. Although of course that's next. The only question is when. It's all a matter of how I respond to the chemo.

Which means there's no way to know how much time I have left, and I haven't asked the question, nor will I ask it. I've always hated that scene in movies, and they're just guessing anyway. Besides, it doesn't matter. Everyone dies eventually. What matters is what you do with your life. I won't lie, I'd love to be there for Opening Day at our stadium, but until then my focus is on making the most of what I'm doing today. One of the things I'll be doing is chronicling this experience, so stay tuned.

I also may finally get a tattoo, even though they're not my thing. Something simple, with just four words: NO FEAR, NO TEARS.

(Or maybe I'll just keep the mantra and skip the body paint. LOL)

Well, shit Kevin, that stinks. You're a good dude, and no matter how this turns out, it's going to suck to go through it, and that alone is more than you deserve. Seems like you are now on top of things and fighting the good fight. I will be praying for you too.

 

[Locopsu]

I would like to see him be our guy, but 2 wins in 20 games and missing the playoffs makes it really hard to believe he'll still be here next season. I don't think he got a fair shot here (Taty leaving right as he took over, then this mess of a roster for 24 games), but I find it hard to believe how he survives this.

He got a season and a half. Took the best winger and made him a striker, complete failure, then benched they guy for someone who has lowest rating of any player on team, Pelligrini. That’s reason enough there, then Chanot, Magno, Perriera, roster changes daily. Dude has a legit shot, team play regressed, certain players had carte blanche (Santi -Pelli) while others were scapegoats (Magno, Barazza, Chanot) due May great tactical mind, not good manager of team. #cushingout.

 

[Locopsu]

Thank you, JayH! It was quite an experience, and a very close call. When I was hospitalized on Aug. 8 my hematocrit -- my red blood count -- was below 20 (normal is 38.3 to 48.6 percent) and I ultimately needed five immediate transfusions, along with antibiotics and nutrients and whatever else they were pumping into me. I wasn't sent to the ICU but believe me, my care was pretty intense, if not intensive. Lots of IVs (I never needed oxygen.)

After I had stabilized and was clearly going to make it my doctor -- Dr. Oleg, part of a cohort of Russian doctors at Ellis Hospital -- walked in, gave me a hearty handshake and said, "You tough guy, you should be dead." We had a good laugh. He especially loved me teasing him back with my Rooskie accent.

Lots of good news: we avoided dialysis and my kidney function has returned almost to normal. My appetite has returned and I've already put 25 lbs. back on (I was skin and bones, down to 151 lbs. when I was weighed the second week of August and I normally walk the streets at about 210). I still have a Foley catheter in but I think that finally comes out on Monday; that's my next urology appointment, so we're going to try. All my vital signs are good and I have good energy again.

The bad news is the root cause of my problems is Stage IV metastatic prostate cancer. What I thought was arthritis in my neck is actually an area where the cancer has caused the bone to disintegrate and it's causing a spinal compression, which affected control of my arms and has produced a drop foot as well as some other fun symptoms. The prostate cancer itself caused the severe anemia, dehydration and ultimately both kidney failure and the total blockage of my GI tract. Rather ugly situation.

Thanks to the combination of anemia and dehydration I was cognitively non-functional and not able to care for myself. Thankfully my neighbor and close friend had the feeling something was wrong and came by to check on me just as my niece arrived to do the same -- I hadn't been responding to any phone calls or texts or posting anything on social media, so the alarms went off. They called for an ambulance, probably just in time.

So, here we are. I'm cleaning up all the follow-ups with nephrology, urology and neurology, and then oncology takes over on Sept. 27. I start with radiation to deal with the issue in my neck (I avoided invasive spinal surgery as well as invasive abdominal surgery, two big wins) and then we pivot to chemo. I also caught a huge break: all the treatments are at the New York Oncology and Hematology facility here in town, which happens to be on the other side of the trees from my house. I could throw a rock and hit the roof.

I'm also feeling really good. Even though my cancer is in a very advanced stage, you wouldn't know it to see me, especially now that I've gotten some treatment. As I said, I'm eating really well and I've put some weight back on, and I'm not that far from being able to exercise again. I have a good strong constitution and a very positive attitude.

I also have no illusions about my situation; the cancer has spread to the bones, and you happen to have bone all over your body. Not good. It's been detected on my pelvis, rib cage, spine and skull, but so far not in the soft tissue. Although of course that's next. The only question is when. It's all a matter of how I respond to the chemo.

Which means there's no way to know how much time I have left, and I haven't asked the question, nor will I ask it. I've always hated that scene in movies, and they're just guessing anyway. Besides, it doesn't matter. Everyone dies eventually. What matters is what you do with your life. I won't lie, I'd love to be there for Opening Day at our stadium, but until then my focus is on making the most of what I'm doing today. One of the things I'll be doing is chronicling this experience, so stay tuned.

I also may finally get a tattoo, even though they're not my thing. Something simple, with just four words: NO FEAR, NO TEARS.

(Or maybe I'll just keep the mantra and skip the body paint. LOL)

Kevin prayers offered for Gods healing light upon you, that is quite a story. Hang in there and don’t let this teams crap play get you down. Better days ahead.