I tell people I got two speeds - all out and full stop. And I’m back in all out mode for sure. And it feels pretty damned good.

Some months back I wrote a piece here describing my frustrations of not knowing which direction to go with all the projects I had already started or had bangin around in my head. I wrote about how tricky it can be in quasi-retirement to find meaning.

Life can be paralyzing when you have plenty of time and tons of ideas but no direction. My daughter says I’m still too tied to output. Maybe… but I know how to do output… I’m very good at it.

My friend Angelo and I talk about this on the golf course. He’s retired and like me he’s antsy and itching for meaningful things to do. He’s written a book about the industry he worked in. He also built an insane model of the New Jersey rollercoaster he rode as a kid.

Like me, he had a very successful professional career and now, like me, he looks at palm trees and sunshine every day and wonders what’s next…

I’m sure one of the major reasons I had big success in my career is that I was certain of the direction I was headed since I was a very young boy. Early career clarity is the greatest gift I could imagine.

It was my sincere intention when I left the Dallas Stars booth in 2015 to have at least one more pretty damned successful career in a different industry. I called a bunch more NHL games for years after I left. I consulted and helped give young, talented broadcasters a leg up, but I can’t be in a fearful and destructive office climate anymore. It’s not good for me. I taught, but teaching and working in academia isn’t for me either.

I’ve been onstage for live theatrical productions, and I’ve directed a play here too. That’s just for fun. Exercise. I haven’t been up there since I played Otto Frank in The Diary of Anne Frank (and won the Coachella Valley’s Desert Theater League Award for best actor in a drama) in 2019. It’s gonna be hard to top that experience, and casting parts and assigning directors are very much out of my control.

No, over the last ten years or so I have become acutely aware that whatever it is I’ll do to leave another mark - or at least try to - has to be on my own.

And I’m a full-time writer now. I make a few bucks here on SubStack - enough to count as part-time money. I enjoy writing these shorter essays but I wanted to try another book. I wrote a novel in 2016, and it’s not horrible but it is reflective of a newbie’s first go.

This time I hired help, Excellent help from Allison INK Smith, another SubStacker. She’s helping me beyond measure.

Allison INK Smith SubStack

I’m on a tight writing schedule. And - it’s coming… I like it. I’m hoping you do too.

Here’s where I’m at now and what I’ve learned and am learning.

C’mon, lemme tell you how me and my editor INK are doing first draft/mid-book…

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I’m breaking my own rule. I never write a piece without having good intelligence that’s well-sourced, or knowing enough of the facts and having a fairly informed opinion on the matter. And I will stipulate that there are things we don’t know about this yet.

However…

As a former long-time NHL play-by-play guy who worked the bulk of my career in Texas, this one caught my eye big time this morning. I know the world of shady corporate governance inside professional sports teams. And I know Texas. And I’ve done a little poking around about the Spurs culture.

I wrote a piece just the other day about this runaway speed boat of pervasive corporate fear guiding all decision-making, regardless of the severe human costs left in these ever-churning wakes. Throw in the doing business through religious values beliefs of the owner, and apparent likemindedness by other big players in there, and this thing got out of hand very quickly.

I don’t know Jacob. Never met him. I don’t know if I’ve heard him on the air. But, this young man’s career could be over, and for - I’m still not sure, but if I’m guessing - the reason is the usual paralyzing corporate fear.

And if that’s right, it’s a horrible fucking reason to cut this young man loose.

It appears that, according to the piece from Ethan Strauss, (House of Strauss on Substack) that Tobey, who signed a multi-year extension with the team just weeks ago, has been let go for - ready - cheating on his girlfriend and with the sister of a current Spurs player.

Here’s that story.

STRAUSS PIECE ON TOBEY

How this private matter became public information is that the girlfriend, Kasserine Taylor admittedly hacked into Tobey’s social media account and posted {as him} this, and identified the woman with whom she believes he’s had (having) the affair;

Strauss, in his essay yesterday, cited the news was broken by Ryan Glasspiegel of Front Office Sports. Here’s that one;

FRONT OFFICE SPORTS STORY

Kasserine Taylor, the current poster girl for …hell hath no fury… is responsible for the outing. Loren Waters, the woman whom Taylor claims is the one who had (is having) the tryst with Tobey, is the sister of Spurs player Lindy Waters.

Yeah - it’s messy, and apparently that’s enough for the Spurs organization to relieve their lead broadcaster of his duties.

We really want it like this? Because whatever this is, is insane.

And to show what chickenshits the Spurs organization appears to be - they’re so unconvinced of their own pitiful behavior here, they have so far refused comment and have made no official statement on the matter.

Let’s go a little deeper and explore how a professional team operates, the times in which we live, and then put some major heat on these assholes.

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I’ll be honest with ya, I’m almost out of places to go where employees appear to care and at least try to help us on the customer side of the counter. Sometimes, some don’t seem to understand even the basics of the equipment they’re operating to ring up the sale.

Hell, I don’t even get a “hello” anymore. Occasionally a grunt. A nod - yes - the nod is a big player these days. Because too few train their people to simply smile and say hello.

I feel sorry for the workers who aren’t being trained or being paid even marginally well. It’s hard to watch all the way around.

Just yesterday, I ask the manager at a place that’s doing work at my house next week to give me a time of arrival. She responds with a ridiculous window, given I’m the only job for that crew for two days. The owner of the company - the OWNER - emails me to say - how could they possibly give me an accurate time - they could get stuck in traffic.

Or - their dog could eat their homework too! I wonder what happens over there if anybody has to catch a flight…. This is the owner telling the customer we’ll get there when we’re damned well good and ready. That’s the message his employees get everyday - don’t worry about the people paying our salaries - get there whenever you get there.

I’m down to only these places where I can go anymore where I know the employees are treated well and trained, and I know I’ll get treated like a real person;

In N Out Burger in my neighborhood, Trader Joes down the street too. My pharmacy is pretty good. My new insurance agent is wonderful. Oh - the weed store too - the gals are super nice to me there.

That’s it. I’m not kidding. I don’t go many places anymore, it’s too depressing.

Because in addition to not getting paid or trained well, employees are generally told by their bosses, … Don’t make any decisions. Just keep repeating the phrase - that’s our policy… No matter what the customer asks - say no, or some version of I can’t do that - OH - and make sure you get all their data and sell them a protection plan, our credit card, and ask them to join our rewards club will ya? Oh - AND DON’T FORGET TO MENTION THE SURVEY!!!

If you work inside an office, it’s worse than that and you know it. In addition to all the restrictions, low wages, poor training, and then some, corporate policy now, in almost every space, is run by lawyers and governed by and with fear. The fear of a lawsuit. The fear of an employee who might not be feeling exactly how they think they’re supposed to feel. The fear by an employee of losing a job, or a promotion, or a bonus. The fear of one employee thinking he or she is losing out to another. The fear of simply saying the wrong thing in front of the wrong person.

These are factories of despair, killing spirits, squashing unique thoughts.

At the very top of any business or industry - life is great. Beef jerky, aged whiskey, and pumpkin pie every day. However, just a rung or two below that and downward, rank and file workers are fucked. And it’s getting worse.

I don’t know what we do about this, but acknowledging where we are and understanding that whatever side of the counter you’re on - you’re on the same team is a good start.

And that’s the beginnings of a plan…

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Barring a late-night phone call from the current Oval Office occupant and inaugural FIFA Peace Prize award winner (lol) to his lackey, FIFA president Gianni Infantino, ordering him to vacate Belgium’s 4-1 victory over the United States in the Round of 16, (which, let’s face it - could actually happen…) the USMNT’s 2026 World Cup experience is over.

And there was a lot to like, even for a guy like me who’s still learning the fineries and nuances of the beautiful game, and this once every four years tournament.

And, I’m no Zlatan Ibrahimovic, (although he’s grown on me during the past few weeks) but it doesn’t take a world-class soccer player to see that the team was rattled, and in way over their heads.

Team USA made a huge investment in the coach, they told me this on today’s broadcast. I’ve been working in professional sports all my life and like you watch a bunch on color TV. We can all see when a team isn’t ready for the task in front of them.

And that’s generally on the coach.

Mauricio Pochettino’s own words after the loss said it all “…from the beginning we never connected with the game.” Adding, “…they were better than us…”.

Yeah. Right. I agree. Who’s responsible to get em ready? I know the answer to that one and I’m not making the $ 6 million dollars a year he is doing what he’s doing.

USA Soccer lost another one to one of the big boys and in a knockout round, again. This keeps happening. Christian Pulisic, the guy the TV people kept telling me is a real guy and a world star was no factor at all when he needed to be.

I know enough about disguised injuries in big tournaments that maybe that one he suffered in the group stage lingered and bothered him more than we know. We’ll hear tomorrow or something I would think.

At any rate, it’s a failure. Big time, even if not that unexpected. But - let’s not let that keep us from enjoying what should be a pretty stellar next couple of weeks.

And what do those teams have the USMNT don’t? Why don’t we care that much? And - does it really matter in the grand scheme of things?

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It’s the 50th anniversary of the great American film, Rocky, Sylvester Stallone’s masterpiece about the gruff but likable neighborhood brawler from Philadelphia who gets his shot at the champ.

As that movie plot goes…

On the country’s 200th birthday, Heavyweight belt-holder Apollo Creed gives a nobody a chance, and that nobody is Rocky Balboa, a guy who - well let’s face it - doesn’t belong in the same ring with him. Hell, he doesn’t belong in the same universe with Creed.

Everyone knows this story, but at the crux of the film, the thing that makes Rocky special, iconic, and perfect, is that Rocky Balboa loses the fight - but gains his own self-respect - and in so doing - gains the respect of the world.

Cape Verde’s improbable and wonderful World Cup run ended yesterday and at the hands of Apollo Creed - er - Lionel Messi. The defending WC Champs, Argentina, beat em in Miami, and down the street from the world’s greatest player’s new home field, 3-2 in extra time.

I hadn’t heard of Cape Verde’s team before World Cup. Hell - I hadn’t watched much World Cup before this World Cup - but Cape Verde helped pull me in, and I became an enthusiastic party to their story.

And now, on America’s 250th birthday, we get to see the familiar story play out on US soil, and for real in real time.

And just like Rocky, this story can allow us to reimagine what winning is and can be.

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On July 4, 2026, we’ll celebrate the 250th anniversary of the Continental Congress officially adopting the Declaration of Independence. Though the actual document was signed about a month later by all 56 delegates on August 2, there are some historical and semantical inconsistencies regarding the July 4, 1776 date for signing.

Many historians posit John Hancock signed the original Dunlap Broadside, the first printed copy of the document on July 4, 1776. All agree that the actual parchment in the National Archives was signed by all of them from the 13 United States of America on that August 2, date.

Every year around this time I read it. Like many of the country’s founding documents, it’s not long, it’s very straightforward, and is easy to digest. If you haven’t read it for a long time - or - ever - pick it up. It’ll take you 15 minutes.

Because what we celebrate matters. Our history matters. And it’s part of a national history that too often is not taught or not taught well, except to immigrants seeking to pass the citizenship test. If I’m betting - I’ll wager at least half of the people born in the United States, (and probably way more than that) would struggle with a basic exam on US history and government. I’ll go you one better - I’m sure, given some of the rhetoric I’ve heard over the years - many in very high elected offices would struggle as well.

Quick - how many members in the House? It’s been the same for about 100 years… I’ll wait… yeah - that’s an easy one everyone gets right away.

The Declaration isn’t a governing document, right? You remember that one? While we’re on a short quiz - I know you know the first governing document of the United States? The Constitution, right? By the founding fathers who got the stone tablets from the mountain and so on.

NOPE.

The US Constitution was not our first governing document. The ineffectual and grim Articles of Confederation was, and it gave the states most of the power while creating a limp, one-branch federal government that - well - had no real path to govern.

Like not knowing or remembering The Declaration was actually signed by the delegates a month later than July 4, many forget or never knew about that rag, The Articles, that was in effect from 1781 to 1789 and the big problems it caused.

As we all remember…

After several spurts and false starts, they all finally get their shit together in Philadelphia and decide The Articles need severe amending. James Madison says in effect - oh give me the damned thing and I’ll bring a rewrite back. Once the anti-federalists take a look at his complete rewrite - they say - oh HELL no. There’s too much power in the hands of the federal government. We’ll ratify - but you gotta put in these 10 things - we’ll call em - anyone - Buehler?

Yes - The Bill of Rights - the first 10 Constitutional amendments. They get the 9 of the 13 states they need for ratification when New Hampshire puts pen to paper on June 21, 1788. And voila - we get a document nobody loves - but one that everyone can live with.

That’s the nature of these things, isn’t it?

But let’s go back to that first work on parchment from this budding new country - this, great experiment. The document was created to cut loose from the monarchy. The history of that means that God gives sovereignty to the King - and he rules (with his cabinet and advisors) with absolute authority. Church and State are linked.

We were like - yeah - no. Screw that. In fact, once we get to the creation of the big one - The Constitution - the very first amendment will include - God isn’t a part of this. The words “God”, “Christ” or “Christianity” do not appear in The Constitution, but everyone knows that.

So, the establishment clause becomes a big thing here - and thus - the first amendment text reads;

"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."

But first - we had to break ties. We had to tell King George III - fuck off. We’re gonna do it very differently here.

The Declaration then is a document reflecting and announcing to the world the intent of these United States to sever ties from the British Crown. That’s what we’re celebrating.

That’s what July 4 commemorates.

And here, just in time for the big 250!, I’ll go through The Declaration with you a bit - point out some things - and ask you earnestly to read it again with new eyes. I made US history, the Constitution, and American government a prime are of focus when finishing my college degree in 2016 and have authored several essays on these things over the years, and for some big publications.

And as you read it again - you may join me in thinking that someplace along the way - it’s pretty clear we’ve gone into a real ditch, and are lost along the side of the road, while not bothering to open the glove box, pull out the map, and see where we’re supposed to be going.

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The story has been done to death, the tropes are apparent, and the comparisons to the films of my era, especially the big one, look extremely intentional and are unavoidable. But don’t kid yourself, there is nothing common or usual about PROJECT X, the 2012 film about a nerdy high schooler and his pals looking to up their ‘cred’ with classmates by throwing a party “… big enough to be cool…” when our hero’s parents go out of town for the weekend.

The film, directed by Nima Nourizadeh, is loosely based on one or more actual incidents of off-the-chain parties in the burgeoning era of social media where virally-generated crowds of hundreds or more show up for epic blowouts. Predictably, PROJECT X inspired more of these mayhem-laced soirees after it’s release. There are few rules for these gatherings, but generally awe-inspiring results follow, along with irrevocable damages and grim consequences for those involved in throwing them.

PROJECT X TRAILER

That the film’s star, Thomas Mann graduated from Plano East Sr. High and taught my daughter acting in a small studio at a Coppell, Texas gymnastics and martial arts center, puts an added meta level to it for me, and in fact was the reason I got to the film in the first place back then.

It’s a POV film as well - shot principally on a ‘camcorder’ by one character; an odd and sketchy pal and about whom we’re never really sure. I generally don’t last long with those, but this is seamless and in a way that brings you right into the party as if you’re experiencing it with them.

After a short time, you don’t realize you’re watching ‘one of those’.

Now, it’s coarse and crass, it’s littered with politically incorrect insults played for laughs. But they execute at a very high level. These jokes land hard.

For me - Risky Business is the bar and always will be - and the filmmakers here borrow on it and place several easter eggs for all of us who worship at that altar.

Both films hit me right where I live.

Producers, writers, and directors involved in X have big credits and on cult classics like - The Hangover, Old School, and Scott Pilgrim vs. The World.

This is another one, and finding it again the other night was an unexpected treat. Cmon - let’s talk how this film and Risky Business changed the game and to some degree - changed me.

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I’ve been terrifically lucky in my life. I’ve seen and done amazing things, not just for a living, but for the living of life itself. I do keep my eyes open for opportunities. Always have. I say yes a lot - we’ve been through that if you’re one of my very loyal readers.

And let me take a line or two here to tell you that I do appreciate you spending your money and reading my stuff. It’s good to have people to write for as part of this whole thing here.

OK - now comes the crazy fun Being Ralph stuff.

I wrote a piece the other day about stumbling by Camp Nou in Barcelona and seeing Lionel Messi score two goals that night. That’s another one of those things you get when you’re me and you’re fortunate to see and do these things. Here’s the link to that story;

Finding Messi

Anybody knows me isn’t ever surprised by what happens in my world. Lots of people who know me even a little shake their head a lot. Most of my childhood friends stayed in the neighborhood or close to it. Some of those guys don’t go too many places. That’s how they like it.

I like the action. Admittedly not as much as I used to. I’m about ready to not get on airplanes anymore, especially domestic carriers, but my daughter Savannah’s on the other side of the country and so that’s that. And I do like seeing other places in the world and experiencing the unique ways humans go about things in them. This fall, the Azores in Portugal for a bike trip with Savannah.

So, on we go.

Yeah, I played Hazeltine the day after Payne Stewart won the US Open in 1991. My uncle was in town and my dad set us up through his friend and business partner who was a member there.

I shoot 140 or something, lose two dozen balls, and I remember crying a little bit.

What else… ummm… I got a picture with the Claret Jug in Las Colinas, Texas, I shook Don King’s hand Los Angeles, ran into Ron Jeremy at Caesars Palace, and got a thumbs up from Henry Winkler - no shit - The Fonz on the Paramount lot in 1982.

I even wrote myself into a Hollywood film - writing my lines on the spot and selling them to the director with Jerry Bruckheimer looking over his shoulder.

C’mon - I’ll tell you a few fun stories. The thumbs up is pretty good.

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I say yes a lot.

One day, I’m standing at Dallas Stars hockey practice asking our PR guy Greg Ramirez what he’s doing for our 2014 Olympics break - and the next thing you know - I’m joining him for a week in Spain.

We had no agenda, not really. Greg speaks fluent Spanish and I knew that going in and that was quite helpful. I’d never been to Spain and neither had he. It was a cool week; we stayed in a stripped down hostel in Madrid and went out for Tapas with some of the residents, we took the train from there to Barcelona, and we walked and walked.

The morning of February 15, 2014, was bright and clear as we banged around one of the world’s most spectacular and oldest cities, navigating its L'Eixample grid pattern. Moving through the grand main arteries we viewed Antoni Gaudi’s La Sagrada Familia and other historic sites before somehow, quite by accident, arriving outside Camp Nou Stadium.

FC Barcelona plays soccer here. Lionel Messi plays here.

Oh look Greg, they have a match tonight…

Greg took the lead and emailed Barca’s PR staff and boom. Two press passes to see the game. I was interviewed at half time by their local radio broadcast. It was insane. Like - insane.

There are things you want to do in life. Bucket list things. Things you think about. Gee I’d like to go here. Boy wouldn’t it be cool to go there sometime?

And then there are the things you didn’t know were on your bucket list.

I saw Lionel Messi score two goals, and surpass Telmo Zarra as the player with the most goals for a single Spanish club. FC Barcelona won 6-0. There was lots of singing and cheering.

It was my first real, big-time, global soccer match, and the things I saw and experienced got me started down the path of giving the sport a look every now and then, even if I still don’t understand offsides.

I’ve since been to a few other matches and I’m still quite a neophyte, trying to understand the great sport and all its peculiarities while I watch more than I thought I might of this year’s World Cup, and the guy who got me started in it all those years ago.

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I had a guy I worked for in Hollywood once called it The slush at the bottom of the mountain when a big thing we did ended. You know - you’re racing fast down the hill not paying attention to much else because it’s all consuming and then - suddenly - poof - it’s over - and there you are slogging to a final halt.

We all get that don’t we? Your football team loses in the Wildcard round. The college basketball team you follow rings one off the iron at the horn and you’re not advancing to the Sweet 16. After six months and 162 games your ball club finishes a game out.

Or, if you’re a Spurs fan, it all ended painfully and abruptly last night. You ask me Vegas fans will feel that tomorrow morning. That one I think is over. But we got at least one more hockey game anyway.

The beauty of overlapping seasons means there’s always something else to dive into - kinda sorta …

Because when the winter sports end - and football season is still a few months away we have a gap. A big one.

And for the average US sports fan World Cup isn’t gonna do it the way we’d like it to be done. It’s a rest period then -

How do we deal with it as fans? How did I when I was in there calling Stanley Cup playoff games and one second it looks like we’ve extended the series and the next our season is over? That’s dramatic and heavy when you’re on the wrong end of it.

Cmon - I got a story or two as always - and some thoughts on what we invest and what we get back - and why it hurts so much when it’s over - even if you win it all.

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This is a collaborative piece for me and my editor/writing coach Allison Ink Smith. I’m writing a novel and I needed help. INK is a wonderful partner for the job. Maybe you’re thinking about writing a book - this might give you some concrete ideas for how to progress. We’ll post regularly here about our journey together.

RALPH:

I hear it all the time from people in and out of the sports and entertainment industry, and sometimes I hear it from others too; … I want to write a book…

Do you? Have you ever wanted to? Have you ever thought about it? Do you know where to start?

I’ve been writing – writing stories and writing for work for decades. Taking typing in high school was as good a scholastic elective decision as I ever made. My computer folders and files contain scores of finished and unfinished writing projects. I write something pretty much every day. I publish here on SubStack about three times a week and have for about a year and a half. I can sit down and bang out a decent and cohesive piece in a little over an hour.

My writing muscles are in great shape.

But I wanted to write another book. Truth be told, I was putzing with a handful of ideas and had written parts or sections or treatments or outlines for them all. I had some good concepts – but I was stuck. I had two sci-fi novels. I had a book on the culture of professional hockey and corporate horrors based on my time in Chicago. I had an idea for another self-reflective human story.

What’s the one to write right now? Where do I begin? I needed help.

I self-published a science fiction novel – Saving Lenny Franks – in 2017. It took me two years of starts and stops, of long stretches away from the real world to pound it out. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. It’s not bad… and you can buy it here - ha.

Saving Lenny Franks By Ralph Strangis

I know a little more now and know enough to know I need help. I want someone else’s eyes on it with me. I want more of a plan this time. Because I have what I (and my editor, Allison Ink Smith) think is a very solid concept and timely idea for a dystopian thriller.

I follow so many publishers, writers, novelists, and editors on SubStack, and so many have shown me so much with their notes and posts.

I zeroed in on “Ink” – and now – she and I are in it. We’re in it together. And as we work our way through Act I, I’m very certain I made the right move in getting help, and I made the correct call in hiring her.

INK:

I’m an editor and a published author, and I’ve been doing this work for 15 years. I’ve seen it all—writers who have endless stories to tell but no writing experience, authors who are crippled by overthinking and imposter syndrome, people who have been writing for years but are stuck and can’t progress on their current project.

Ralph is a rare individual in many ways, and I knew that we vibed from the first 60 seconds of our introductory call. His energy matches mine, and we’re both no-BS people. We know we have something truly amazing in the works.

As editors, we ask, “Why this story right now? And why is this person the best author to write it?”

That was never a question with this project. Only a handful of times in my career have I seen a story pour out of an author. Ralph has devised a premise that’s both timely and compelling. Dystopian novels are hot right now. And, almost more importantly, he’s using insights and experiences from his own life to drive the narrative arc, character depth, and worldbuilding. That’s an approach that is often undervalued.

RALPH:

Over the next few months, we’ll publish updates on our progress. For you – or anyone who is interested in doing something like this – let us make the mistakes for you! Or maybe you’re just curious as to how something goes from an idea in somebody’s head to a shelf in a store. The whole process.

So come on along – and let’s see how we pull this thing together.

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Professional tennis is unlike every other sport - in this way - there seems to be always only a very few at the top capable of winning the biggest tournaments at any given time. It’s not golf where big surprises happen damned near every week, like Aaron Rai at the PGA Championship a few days ago. The PGA Tour has Scottie Scheffler yes - and he’s claimed four Major titles in the sports’ last 20 events. But golf has lots of other stars and high quality at the top.

In the last 10 PGA Majors - seven different men have won.

In tennis - the last 9 Grand Slams have been won by two guys - Jannik Sinner (currently ranked number one in the world) and the now injured Carlos Alcaraz.

Alcaraz has claimed 7 of the last 14. He’s 23 years old. Sinner at 24 has 4. That’s 11 of the last 14 claimed by one or the other.

And now the one - or the other - depending on your point of view - is gone for at least the next two big ones. Carlos Alcaraz has pulled out of Roland Garros - The French Open - and now Wimbledon as well, citing an ongoing wrist injury, and leaving Sinner alone with nobody to play, not really.

No repeat final at the French or Wimbledon for “Sincaraz” - and the timing couldn’t be worse for a sport finding its legs and audience again in the United States because of Alcaraz and the rivalry with Sinner.

Everything was teed up for a big year. Vanity Fair just put Carlos on the cover and featured the sports’ biggest star with a profile that hinted at - burnout - already - while telling us about a guy who attracts celebrities to his corner like few others in recent memory.

Carlos Alcaraz Vanity Fair

I see him every year here at Indian Wells. It’s just down the street. And this year when I watched an early Alcaraz match I thought - man… he looks tired - bored - disengaged.

Add to it the very large change in his life and career this year - and the fact that it wasn’t mentioned in the Vanity Fair piece makes me wonder exactly what’s going on in Camp Carlos…

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I get a text first thing this morning from my friend. He and I share the same anniversary date - May 15. I went to elementary school with him. We discovered this when I was visiting him on that date some years ago. Randomly he says, as he’s putting his trash cans out - “Oh - by the way - today is my sober birthday…”

Ain’t that something. It’s his 26th, my 40th.

A few months ago, I saw a friend struggling, and I wrote this post. It’s free - no paywall. Please pass it on to anyone you think might like to read it.

40 years ago I wasn’t looking to quit forever. I just needed it to stop for a little while. In treatment there was a lot I didn’t and wouldn’t get - but I landed here;

My life will not get better if I drink or use drugs.

And on that mantra, I built my life.

Peace. Ralph

Professional athletes live and thrive together in the chaos - it’s pervasive and chronic - and reaction times to haphazard events on an NFL field are measured in milliseconds. Imagine the life of an NFL punter if you can, as they trot out to do their thing. The whole operation, from snap to boot takes less than two seconds, with elite and savage disrupters barreling straight at them as they look to get the ball away without incident.

Standing back there alone, sometimes right under your own goalposts in a hostile stadium, occasionally in freezing rain or swirling winds, eyeing the field, scouting the dangers, processing all that information, and then executing the kick, is not a job for the meek. And, if you don’t get belted on a roughing play, or smoked on a block, you may find yourself in the most unenviable position of having to try - try to make a touchdown saving tackle as the team’s last line of defense. And all of this is done with millions of people watching.

“Team” - is an important theme and compelling construct for Kluwe in his professional and personal life, and now, it is again, as he runs for office. Chris Kluwe is running for California State Assembly (AD-72) and has a shot.

Kluwe, like many elite pro athletes I’ve been around, functions best in the chaos, and with teammates focused on the same goal.

And few in the sport have done what he used to do as well or better than Chris Kluwe, the former Minnesota Vikings punter from 2005-2012. He holds all relevant team punting records, and is top 50 all time among NFL punters for gross punting average.

And on January 24, 2010, with just seconds remaining in the tied NFC Championship game at New Orleans, Chris Kluwe stood on the sideline at midfield next to placekicker Ryan Longwell. One more play to run, and then he and Longwell would jog out and embrace and defy the chaos for the kick. Kluwe would hold it, Longwell would kick it true, and the Vikings would be on their way to the Super Bowl. Standing there, in that moment, Chris was sure this was all going to happen.

But, and Chris will tell you, life is rarely simple and almost never straightforward. Shit happens. High pressure shit. Shit you don’t count on that forces you to change tack. Mistakes get made. Chaos ensues and you’re maybe not even there for it, but you gotta deal with it. And you may not even get the chance at making your mark, or doing what you thought you were meant to do.

Chris Kluwe had no interest in this current particular form of mayhem in which he finds himself - running for political office. He had no thought about joining this crazy, chaotic business of politics - especially now - in this climate - in America in 2026. But, these are crazy times and he didn’t want to stay on the sidelines.

“I was retired. I worked very hard to be retired. I want to get back to retirement. I don’t want to do this. I’m doing this now to help solve problems. I’m not gonna do this for the rest of my life” Kluwe said to me.

Me, I’m a lifelong Vikings fan, as anyone who reads this space will confirm. And that put Kluwe on my radar all those years ago. He was different than most of the athletes I see and have been around.

This long-haired renaissance man; this punter dude in shorts, graphic tees, and flip flops who played Warcraft at an elite level; this writer, novelist, and essayist; this video game creator; this musician in a band; this coach, teacher, and mentor; and this unapologetic shit disturber who pulls zero punches, stood out like a purple thumb around the rest of em. If you were a Vikings fan when he was there - he was impossible not to notice.

And if you’re me - you see a guy with some similar wiring.

Kluwe isn’t afraid to speak his mind, and speak his mind he has. You maybe know or heard of him as the guy who, as a Vikings player, took dead aim at anti-gay marriage politician Emmett C. Burns, Jr. with a scathing open letter of rebuke. Activist Kluwe spoke loudly and often and backed gay marriage and LGBTQ rights. And it cost him. It cost him his NFL career.

The letter is remarkable. Here it is.

Kluwe Open Letter

“Yeah - I was blackballed by the NFL. I’ve said it before.” Kluwe states matter-of -factly.

Maybe you heard about the time (or saw the video) at the Huntington Beach, California city council meeting in February of 2025 when he was arrested for calling MAGA, “… explicitly a Nazi movement…”

That one cost him his job as a teacher and coach at local Edison High School. Here’s the story.

Kluwe Arrested

According to Kluwe, he gets angry when ordinary people, and those with muted or unsteady voices are taken advantage of or abused. Or worse.

“Listen, it’s ok to be angry… then find a way to channel it and direct it where it should be directed. I only punch up. Don’t lash out at people who are less fortunate than you are.” Kluwe said to me today.

Yes, Chris Kluwe says none of this campaigning business was planned. None of this was intentional. One thing led to the next and to the next. And before you know it, Chris Kluwe is running for California State Assembly (AD-72), and is likely to get through his California jungle primary and on to the general in November.

But watching him and his life and career arc over the years, and confirming his determination through a thoroughly energetic and lively exchange with him by phone today it’s pretty clear to me that - yeah - maybe he didn’t plan it this way - but - as you’ll read here in the rest of the piece -

Chris Kluwe, finding himself in the chaos of modern American politics was and is… inevitable.

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If you’re looking for the why - why a guy like Tiger Woods would continue to rush to put himself in peril - look no further than what legendary high-wire artist Karl Wallenda said - “… life is on the wire - the rest is just waiting…”

For Tiger Woods, wire walking isn’t a thing anymore, and there’s no way to replace the rush. No matter what he does, or how hard he tries, or how many women he sees, or pills he takes, or sordid places he finds himself in - none of it is the walk up 18 at Augusta on Sunday with the trophy in his pocket - none of it comes close to the feeling of draining a 25-footer for a major win.

It doesn’t scratch the itch. None of this does. But when all you know is that rush, and the rush that only Tiger Woods (and the very, very few like him) knows intimately - you want it back. You want to feel something - anything - like it was before.

But that’s impossible. Moving his needle? Nope - there isn’t anything out there. Not like there used to be. Tiger Woods doesn’t exist anymore - not that Tiger Woods - and deep down he knows it - and he knows all these things he’s chasing are so fleeting and so insignificant and more - that they will not quench the thrist - but he doesn’t know anything else.

And treatment - for Woods - and what may come after - well - it’s not gonna turn back the clock on what life was or what he needs it to be now. Not now or ever.

Can he come to terms with that?

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Now what?

I don’t know. I’m idling at this unfamiliar nexus - this unexpected intersection between what was and what’s next. I’ve written a bit about this lately even though I haven’t written much at all in recent days and weeks.

I almost never struggle to find a topic and bang out an essay. I get an idea for this or that - or I hear something - and I marinate on it for a short bit and then sit down and BANG - out it comes. Like - I’m remembering it or something - and the words flow easily. But not these days. These days - I struggle even taking the laptop out.

You read these first couple of paragraphs in seconds. It’s taken me almost an hour to get this much down. Yeah - I’m in a strange place.

And it’s more than just old, quasi-retired guy trying to cobble a small but satisfying life together. This is different, because I’m different than I’ve ever been and my head doesn’t seem to be working like it used to. And I’m fighting a world that doesn’t really want me to be (gasp) unproductive. Or maybe - that’s just how I’m looking at it.

It’s like this now it’s not always like this…

I always knew where I was headed was my thing. I’m a kid and everybody else didn’t know where they were headed but I knew. I always knew. I was gonna be on TV. I was gonna be a star. I was gonna have a big life.

And throughout that whole journey - all those years - no matter what happened - I had that. I knew. Things would work out. I know who I am. I know what I can do. I know where I’m going…

But I don’t know anymore. And I don’t have a ton of great ideas - because I don’t know anymore.

Some readers have been nice - circumventing my locking out comments - and sending me emails anyway saying the usual things. Hang in there. Keep writing. You’re gonna figure it out. And so on. You know - y’all are sweet - but there’s a reason I disabled comments.

Knowing - was everything. Couple that with my crystal ball in seeing what’s coming (which still works a little) and my magic wand for helping others (which is as dead as Julius Caesar now) and I could make things happen.

Now - I don’t know. I can’t anymore. It’s not happening. And every morning I say - It’s like this now it’s not always like this - which - like “This too shall pass” you gotta say when things are going awesome - that’s how these mantras work - and I’m having trouble believing it.

So - now what?

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Colin Campbell, and a handful of the other old school North American born NHL meatheads have to die before the league can begin to properly deal with player safety. Because the problem with NHL player safety is the people in charge and how they view hockey and the hockey world.

These are “hockey men” - they call themselves and each other this. Pierre McGuire called me this one day and I said - “oh no I’m not - don’t ever say that…” - he looked totally baffled.

Hockey men are North American, they generally have backgrounds as third and fourth line grunts if they made it at all. Hockey men say phrases like “not your typical Russian…”, “plays the game the right way…” and talk about “culture” as if it was an actual thing. Lemme tell ya something - culture - is getting that goal or that save when you have to have it. That’s culture. Generally it comes from elite skill and not aspiring hockey men and that annoys these guys.

Hockey men abhor skill and work to legislate against it. They bad mouth skill players from outside North America, and feel just fine with a careless prick like Radko Gudas ending Austin Mathews’ season. In those back rooms you can bet your ass a guy like Campbell said - fuck him - he should have been looking out for Gudas to do that.

Hockey men allow hand passes to defend but not to attack, bad mouth shootouts as “skills competitions…” (as if - skill is something to be looked down upon, preferring a game to be settled not by the elite of the elite, but by a mucker or grinder) and turn their collective heads at ridiculously inflated goalie gear.

Hockey men - are killing the National Hockey League. And Connor McDavid, the best player on the planet - knows it. He’s not a “hockey man.” Sorry Canada… and thank goodness.

Oh - and the Vikings have a new quarterback - that might be helpful in the NFL - and it’s Monday - and we’re closing in on the Stanley Cup playoffs - where I’ll be going to some Stars games and writing about it here - for those of you interested in that.

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It’s as basic as it gets - a modern day tennis match - and it hearkens back to the days of the gladiators. Man on man - one on one - in a loaded stadium in the desert. There’s no place to go or hide. You’re alone out there. You have it, or you don’t. You control your emotions, or you snap. Your outbursts are replayed on big screens.

And - unless you’re one of a very small contingent of the elite of the elite - now down to just one or two - you’re unlikely to win the tournament you entered.

Number 1 Carlos Alcaraz and Number 2 Jannick Sinner ONLY have won the last nine Slams - or - Majors, and 11 of the last 14. And Alcaraz has won his last five matches against Sinner. The gap between number 1 and number 2 - could be widening - could be…

And, there is some hope, as this tournament has introduced us to some new, and promising young stars. Including - one 20 year-old American. Can anyone beat these guys though?

And it’s my annual pilgrimage to the BNP Paribas Open at the Indian Wells Tennis Center right down the street. Yes - this “Fifth Slam”, this event that’s the player’s favorite, that draws huge crowds and visitors from across the globe, is in my neighborhood. I go every year now and to multiple sessions.

This year - I’ve seen Carlos, Jannick, and Novak twice. I’ve seen Elena Rybakina, and Iga Swiatek and yep - I was there for Mirra Andreeva’s outburst and F-YOU to the fans on her way off the court too. Kids these days…

And while I do enjoy women’s tennis - and while they have some shit to sort as well - I want to talk about the men - who are in need of more stars - way more - and more qualified challengers.

Where are they? Well - maybe there are a few just around the corner - maybe…

But - not Americans. Is there an American out there that can challenge these guys?

Because the very best way to engage US audiences is to have US stars and champions. You can trust me on this - I’m a retired professional sports broadcaster…

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I just blocked and deleted my very good friend and sublime essayist Father Joshua Whitfield from my SubStack feed, and I never wanted to do that. I don’t want to do that. But, with SubStack, I had to. I couldn’t get out of the rabbit hole this follow kept sending me down.

It’s this crazy social media thing that pushes us to binary choices and one of two camps. What about goofballs like me? Huh? I’m not interested in this world of getting us mad at things every day.

Oh - yeah - it’s like this - every day we get these clarion calls from these respective camps. It goes like this:

“If you’re one of us - this week we need you to be outraged about Trump’s comment about inviting the women’s hockey team to the White House… you can’t be one of us if you’re not outraged by this…”

or…

“If you’re one of us - you better yell at the top of your lungs that Bad Bunny is un-American, and you better be watching Kid Rock…”

There’s no difference between the camps. It’s why I’m not in either camp.

So - I had to unfollow my friend. He’s the best follow I have on SubStack, and I can’t follow him anymore.

He knew it was coming. Father Josh did. I texted him early last week about it. Then he called me on my birthday. I told him what was happening. We laughed about it. I told him I had tried for weeks, weeks and months really, to manage a feed that was littered - LITTERED with catholic, christian, and other domestic religious contributors. Most - well - yeah. Oh - how did we get here - and how am I in the middle of whatever the hell this is?

Because I followed and subscribed to one catholic priest, SubStack believes I’m religious. I was raised catholic, went to 12 years of catholic school, but I’m agnostic, and one of my great friends is a married roman catholic priest. SubStack is horribly confused.

I’ve blocked no fewer than 500 religious essayists in the last few weeks, priests, authors, and a high number of nutjobs, and, the way things are these days, religious folk not acting very religious you ask me. This has been a daily thing. I can’t get out of the loop.

Now - I’m not stupid - like - I don’t want the supreme creator of the universe pissed at me because I’m blocking accounts on a social media platform on a tiny dot in a grand landscape of planets and stars -

And then I realize how ridiculous that sounds.

But - since the Father Josh block - it’s way better here for me. But - here they come again.

Now, they’re trying me on for size again.

Well let’s see if he’s pro Israel. Well let’s see if he’s pro Iran. Let’s try the MAGA stuff again. Well if that’s not him then he’s gotta want Kamala Harris and Gavin Newsome posts. Wait - he lives in California and isn’t a Gavin Newsome guy? WTF?

SubStack, this platform is all I got now - but I’m considering making more changes in what I read or like for fear of being bombarded again with all kinds of posts and stuff I could give a shit about.

How does anyone escape this shit without going completely dark with it? Turning it all off. Because I’ve shut most of it down, and still, still, they’re after me…

GOD HELP ME!!!

wait….

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Whenever a young broadcaster would ask me - or anyone would ask me - what my strengths are, or how I got to an NHL booth and stayed there for all those years, I’d answer the same way. I’d say that I have natural ability, I’m good in front of people, I’ve worked hard on my writing and communication skills and so on. I got good at being on TV. I worked on it since I’m five years old or something.

But what was it that set me apart? What is the secret of my success in the business?

Career clarity. I knew - KNEW - from as early as I can remember - that I was going to be on TV. That I was going be a presenter of some kind. I thought it might be sports - and it was - but it could have been anything else that got me on the air and in front of people. Game show host. Talk show host. Radio host. Actor.

That - knowing exactly what I wanted to do was a huge advantage. Huge. It’s a rare thing to know, and to have supreme confidence that I would get there. I knew I would get there. And I behaved like it in all things. Very few people I know or knew had any real idea what they were gonna do as a career.

I think most people discover what they want to do along the way. In school. Or with a guidance counselor, or at a part time job when something strikes or interests them.

It wasn’t like that for me. I can’t relate to that. Well - now I can.

Today, I’m 65 years old, and while I’m busy and engaged, for the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m gonna live another 20 maybe - and I want to do something - but what?

What do you do when you have no idea what to do?

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