Jeremy Tyler...I Disagree

Obviously I am no Sports Commentator. Admittedly, I miss a lot in sports because of my schedule. But this morning in my hotel room I happened upon ESPN and discovered there is a 17-year boy named Jeremy Tyler. In a strange move for this 17-year-old, Tyler has opted to forgo his education and travel to Europe, where he will compete for a professional team. In doing so he will be the first player born in the United States to skip senior year in favour of developing his game abroad – a move that has caused a stir across the Atlantic for its bold defiance of tradition.

In 2005 the NBA imposed a rule preventing teenagers from entering the league's draft until one year after their high school graduation. As a result many talented teenagers choose to play college basketball for a year, before dropping out and trying to forge a career in the NBA.

I am typically very laid back with the decisions people make. Why? Because they are their decisions. I actually agreed with Lebron and Kobe's decision to skip college and enter the NBA Draft. After all, their millions were already solidified before ever entering the draft - that even if they were injured prior to ever playing a game, that was guaranteed income.

I may be conservative but I think this is going way TOO far. What kind of example are we setting for our kids? There are many who opt out of college and enter a Trade School, begin work, or even enter into service to their country. While I know he will more than likely get his diploma, it is the principle.

Would like to know what some in the blog world think.

Poodle Attack

I am preparing to jump in my car and head to Corpus Christi to hear my good friend Rev. Lance Mann bring the message tonight at the Friendship Baptist Church, where my brother Kevin serves as Pastor. But before I do, I wanted to write a note about something that has really traumatized me. Last Saturday, March 29 (two days before my eldest son's 6th Birthday), I took my family to the Humane Society not too far from our home. I really wanted a Cocker Spaniel, but the one there was reserved for pending adoption. I was so excited to get approved for an adoption and simply thought I would wait for a Spaniel to become available. My wife mentioned my son and I have allergies, to which the young lady recommended a Poodle. I do like poodles, but never really entertained owning one myself - after all my grandmother (my mother's mother) seemed to really love them. I wasn't a particular fan. They brought in this hairy, dingy-looking dog who needed some major grooming. However, my wife and soon-to-be 6 year old fell in love. I was NOT impressed; neither was our youngest son Kaden, who just turned 2. But my wife was so impressed with this mangy-looking Poodle that she got on the floor and held this dog. After some time, I gave in and hesitantly acquired this dog -KNOWING we had to get to the nearest Petsmart and groomer ASAP. Several hours later, my wife walked in with the dog from the groomer, and immediately I could not believe the transformation. We named her 'Sasha', middle name 'Fierce.' Little did we know how prophetic our name choice would be! That night, she jumped on the bed, to which we realized she had some very strange habits. We are gathering she must have been the companion of an elderly person and was quite spoiled. Sasha has a strange habit. At night, around 9pm, she likes to go under the bed. I did some reading and analyzing and concluded this is her 'alone time'. The night she came home, she did just that. I decided I did not want a dog under my bed. I reached my hand under the bed to softly direct her out...and was met with a quick bite and a growl. I knew then that this dog was slightly touched.

Well...this past Sunday night, she decided to jump on the bed (after 9pm), and my wife told her to get off. I moved Sasha and she slowly made her way back up against my wife. When I tried to move her again, she bit me!!! I must admit that I got very upset and went to get my belt and yelled at her, instructing her to 'get off of my bed'. She growled and tried to let me know that she was not budging. THEN....she got off and went to her battle ground....UNDER THE BED!!! I know then that it was on.

For about 30 minutes, we were fighting under the bed, as I tried to catch her. I had my gloves in place, but she and I wrestled, she growled, I threatened and tried to swing, pulling up the mattress as best I could, etc. After about 35 t0 40 minutes, I was finally able to get her, though she began to agressively attack me, I got her down to the ground in a neutral area and, I swear, this dog began to scream like a human being! She did all of this while still on the prowl and the attack. Finally, I had my hands around her mouth until she slightly calmed down. Finally I grabbed her by her neck and threw her outside in the breezway and garage.

I hadn't been that angry in about 10 years! And I could not believe I let a dog get to me like that. I felt so ashamed; and know I devastated my wife. After the fact, I felt so childish and immature. Pride just would let me get past the fact that a dog who I feed on a regular basis would not follow my instructions. Little did I know that the situation may have traumatized her more than myself. Even now, she has not returned to my room; we are finally reconciling, but it is a slow process. I never knew a poodle could have such an effect on me.