It all started bright and early at 5:00AM on Saturday morning. That’s when Mrs. Swampy and I got up and headed south for Parents Weekend at UD and a visit with the elder Swampette. In our case it would be “Parents Day.” Granted, we didn’t really have to leave that early, but if we were going to see any of the open scrimmage we did! Things were going along swimmingly until traffic on I-75 came to an excruciatingly sudden and complete stop, just north of Dayton by the Neff Road exit. We sat and crept and sat and crept some more, until we finally got to the exit. Having lived in Dayton for 10 years, I knew that Main Street was due west of where we were, so we headed that way and finished the trip on surface streets. A quick stop at Starbucks for my drug of choice for the day — caffeine and plenty of it — and we plucked our pride and joy from the loading dock at VWK and were off to the Fieldhouse, I mean Frericks Center.

Ten things I learned at the open scrimmage, all of which begin with ‘that’:

1. That Logan White can flat out shoot the basketball.

2. That Mark Jones is going to have a helluva time playing PG with his arm in a sling.

3. That lot of people “lurk” on the UDPride.com Message Board and never post. I had several “lurkers” tell me that they enjoy my column, but that they never post.

4. That Bucky Albers is really a very nice guy.

5. That former Flyer Darnell Hoskins has a young son and is probably done playing hoops in Europe due to injuries.

6. That Brooks Hall needs to stop making the ultra-cute passes and just shoot the damn ball.

7. That James Cripe needs to learn how to finish what he starts…a great move isn’t truly great unless the ball goes in the hoop. If learning this requires that he redshirt, so be it.

8. That Sean Finn is shooting his FTs with his fingertips, which means he’s on the way to a much better FT percentage.

9. That sometimes AWOL can mean, as in the case of Sammy Smith, “Away Without Logic.” How far did that guy who abducted him think he was gonna get with some bread, some peanut butter, and a blanket?

10. That the young man with the Centerville Elks sweatshirt and the UD hat was probably Chris Spears.

No trip to the Gem City would be complete without a pilgrimage to the Dayton Mall…at least that’s what my wife and daughter told me. In this case they were right, because the elder Swampette is headed to Cleveland with her Mock Trial class for a competition. She’s either going to be a witness for the prosecution or present the closing arguments for the defense and in either case, jeans and a sweater aren’t gonna cut it. After a light lunch, we walked outside and noticed the sun was about to come out. All of a sudden the football game that had become totally optional was sounding pretty good!

Three things I learned at the UD/Drake football game, all of which also begin with ‘that’:

1. That Mike Kelly dresses so many guys that the Flyers have to issue duplicate numbers.

2. That they won’t let you into Welcome Stadium with an umbrella…even if it’s raining.

3. That there’s a reason why Mark Kasmer has so many interceptions — he’s always around the ball.

Did you ever think about how fate and the UD Housing Department somehow align cosmically to form friendships that will last a lifetime? I did over dinner with two of the elder Swampette’s suitemates and their parents. They all lived on the same floor in Marycrest during their freshman year, but with other roommates; found they were similar in their tastes and outlook and decided to live together. One is from Pittsburgh the other is from Mansfield, midway between Columbus and Cleveland. The nine of us all had a great time, telling stories and sharing laughs in a restaurant jammed with kids from the Centerville HS homecoming dance, Sweetest Day, and Parents Weekend. The food was spicy but good, the waiter kept the Diet Cokes coming and we celebrated one of girl’s 20th birthday. 3 ½ hours later, Mrs. Swampy and I were home and in bed.

Totals for the day:
– 20 ½ hours
– 450 miles
– one open scrimmage
– one trip to Dayton Mall
– one football game
– one 55 gallon drum of caffeine, in various liquid forms

The alarm went off at 7:30 Sunday morning. Hey, I got to sleep in an extra 2½ hours vs. the night before, not bad! The reason for the ‘late to bed, early to rise’ was the younger Swampette’s Fall League softball game. Granted, she’s 16 and could drive herself, but her mother and I enjoy watching her play. The Groves varsity team is between coaches, so the senior captain is running things and today she couldn’t stay, so I agreed to umpire the game. The Fall League is an infield league, with the emphasis on bunting, slapping and, of course, pitching, which is what the younger Swampette does. A freshman pitcher threw the first 2 innings and does a credible job. My daughter hurled the next 2 and was very effective. The other varsity pitcher threw the last 2 innings and also did well. Nobody really keeps score, but if they had, Groves would have probably won.

After the game, we jet back home, clean up, and head to the Dearborn Inn for a presentation by Boston University for prospective students. The younger Swampette wants to be a Physical Therapist and BU has a separate school — Sargent College — dedicated to Health and Rehabilitative Sciences. They also play Division I softball and she wants to attempt to play ball while tackling a very aggressive PT curriculum. The three young people who speak are all bright and personable, the video they show of BU puts the university and my hometown in the best possible light and the three of us are duly impressed. The admissions rep for MI is a graduate of Sargent College and when my daughter asks her a question afterwards, the rep tells her she remembers her from the presentation they did at Groves. Sure, you do — I bet you say that to all the kids.

Next stop is the younger Swampette’s pitching lesson. She’s been going to her coach for three years now — he’s on the USA Men’s National Team and is really good at helping girls to develop a variety of pitches. My daughter has five — a fastball, rise, drop, drop curve, and knuckle change. She is throwing the drop curves particularly well and her coach is visibly pleased at her command of what is a difficult pitch to master. After her lesson, she takes two turns in the state-of-the-art batting cage. Next week is “College Exposure Night” where a couple dozen coaches come and watch the students pitch, hit, and field and the younger Swampette wants to get accustomed to this new machine, the only one like it in MI. The three of us have a nice dinner at Red Robin and then head home to get ready for the week ahead.

Totals for the day:
– 15 hours
– 105 miles
– one softball game, complete with several questionable calls on balls and strikes
– one college presentation, rather impressive
– one pitching lesson

Like most siblings, the Swampettes are convinced that mom and dad love the other daughter more. Which tells my wife and me that we are doing an okay job raising them if each feels the other is our ‘favorite’. Some people might wonder why the hell we would get up early on a Sunday morning to watch a meaningless softball game or drive 3½ hours to take one of them shopping and fix her computer chair. If you aren’t a parent, you wouldn’t understand; if you are, no further explanation is necessary. The fact of the matter is I would drive all night and pay good money to watch the elder Swampette play intramural softball or her younger sister take batting practice. A shrink (if I had one) would tell me it’s because in all the years I played sports — football, basketball, golf, and baseball — my father came to exactly one game.

But that ain’t it.

They might call it ‘Parents Weekend’ but it’s really all about the kids.

That’s it “From the Swamp.”