Let me summarize. I scored a goal 8 years ago. My friend who played alongside me, wrote about that moment and sent it to everyone on the team. I saved it. I sometimes read it if I was having a bad day. I also joked I would tell my (future) son about this goal. I wasn’t joking about that – and lately I’ve had plenty of bad days.

Taken by another dear friend - drinking on the soccer sidelines

So here is the story. A story about me, about great moments, about taking risks, about the unexpectedness of life and the love of friends. Oh, and the beautiful game. Enjoy…

Dateline: German Park (oddly enough – no German’s present) – May 4, 2003 – By my friend…

As I grow older (yes, 36 – if you didn’t know), I find myself being much more reflective. Somewhere down the road I will think back on last Saturday night and I will smile at the thought of Alex on a mechanical bull, but as all memories go, I will forget the names of some of those involved and will remember myself behaving better (not bailing out on my friends).

Because as memories go, you can re-script the events just as long as you don’t share them with someone who really knows what happens.

Somewhere down the road I will look back on Sunday’s Hoosier Daddy game and again, a smile will come to my face, not only because we won the game, but this is one script that will not need to be rewritten, for sometimes, fact is greater than fiction.

You need to only think back to last week’s game to know the agony of losing in the final minutes. For some of us, the pain is greater because I still see the winning goal ripped past me in the final minute to lose a game that should have at least been a draw, and my goal should have been a highlight, but losing seems to always take the luster off the positive. I mention this for two reasons, one so you can join with me in swallowing a bitter pill and two, so I could mention my goal again, which until yesterday, could arguably have been the best goal scored by a Daddy.

This may be a game summary like no other, but to give a score, and leave it at that would not do justice to the Daddy’s finest hour. So I find myself writing an email that is a cross between Oliver Twist, a Rick Reilly column, and a screenplay for The Natural.

Surprisingly, I was the first one to arrive yesterday, which gave me a chance to make small talk with our opponents (and we all know how much I love to do that). The Turks not only seemed confident, it’s that air of confidence that they have about them, when I don’t see why they would be, that always gets under my skin, but they had a starting eleven show up before I saw my first teammate, which was Joe, who commented how he hated playing games under these conditions, a cloudy spring day, the kind of day when you add rain, that Roy Hobbs would knock the cover off the ball, but we’ll get back to the stuff of legend later on, now we’ll introduce our hero (but I’m already there at the game your thinking – remember, even as I look back on this day years from now – I will still only be Fagan, it’s the English lad that deserves the book is named for).

Dickens had his Oliver twist, and on this day we had our Daniel (or D-Boy, Danny, D8, or any mispronunciation of Incandela that you may wish to go with), as he showed up with the other members of “The-I-did-shots-until-dawn-the-night-before-at-the Ugly-Monkey-Posse”, you had to be suspect of the effort that they would be capable of on this afternoon. Though there had to be a sense of relief when the first thing out of his mouth was “I came out of the womb into this weather.”

As the team warmed up  – I was asked what formation we play with 9 guys – not a question that as I coach I wanted to ponder, but everyone rolled in on time so we could start the game with eleven, and looking at the sheet white faces of some of my teammates – we could have probably played 13 to start and still been out manned.

The first half was typical Daddy stuff, they attacked and we boarded up the Alamo and waited for Poncho Villa, our new keeper did a nice job, and made me laugh by telling me that it was OK for me to tell him what to do – if only he had known I was about to spend the next 90 minutes doing just that and seeing how many times I could say the F word – but the defense played well and the offense generated some nice attacks early on.

Two-thirds of the way through the first half we had a dead ball about 30 yards out in front of their goal – I was thinking Beckham, but I was seeing the ball go into the parking lot, so I drove the ball low and hard, and out of nowhere Joe stepped in and directed the ball into the back of their net.

Hoosier Daddy’s 1 – WINGS 0

The rest of the first half was uneventful, except that Alex must have still been in rodeo mindset from the night before, so he hog tied one of their players in our penalty box – giving them a penalty kick, which was struck over the crossbar. So the score remained the same as we went to halftime.

Ten minutes into the second half they shot ducks in a barrel in front of our net – I was able to clear one off the line only to have “the happy Greek” as I’ve heard him called back heel one into our net, and then proceed to celebrate be doing the airplane towards the corner – too much celebration for that piece of sh*& goal, but it needed to be mentioned (it’s what we call in my business – foreshadowing.)

Hoosier Daddy’s 1 – WINGS 1.

The game continued on and I’d have to say that I saw for the first time, in the last 25 minutes, our team actually knock the ball around and string together several passes at a time, but still I was worried, so as we entered the last 10 minutes I began stalling at every opportunity because I thought a draw would be just fine.

But that’s why I’m only one of Hrothgar’s men that might have been eaten by Grendel in this story if it had not been for our Beowulf, Daniel, because even after going down twice with cramps, he still managed to stay out on the pitch for the final minutes, and while I would have taken a tie, he took me, the team, and the game on his back.

Cue the music from The Natural. The referee had just told me that we were under two minutes when Daniel received a ball some 35 yards from the goal, this looked like it would be our last chance, I thought he should try to beat several men off the dribble to get off a shot, but he had other ideas, and my future memories are glad he did – because he turned and struck the ball and as it left his foot – it reminded me of my childhood standing up at Dodger Stadium to see if that ball would make it over the fence, the ball flew towards the goal and the questions started, will it make it over the keeper’s head, will it still make it under the crossbar, can it be, yes – fiction is dead. The ball sailed over the keeper’s head and into the back of the net.

Someday over beers I’ll argue on the greatest goal in Daddy history, not that there is much of an argument that can be made, but there is no argument over the greatest goal scoring celebration in team history, winning the game wasn’t enough, but Daniel also had to regain his team’s honor which had been in question after being shown up by the Greek’s goal (remember the foreshadowing) and I later found out that he and Daniel have history, so Daniel took off his shirt off ran to the sidelines jumped on the back of a pickup and raised his arms (really, I can’t make this stuff up).

Hoosier Daddy’s 2 – WINGS 1.

This one goal, by one man, on one day, restored hope to a team that needed a shot in the arm after losing the Scottish core that brought the team together, but with their absence we had lost their identity. Now picture Nicholson holding an axe and saying “I’m back.”

And for this day – we were back. This is one memory that down the road I won’t have to remember differently – because as it stands, it was just perfect the way it was.

Want to read Part 1 of this story? Click HERE. Part 2, HERE. And 3, HERE. Otherwise, enjoy…

Walter must have turned around 20 times to wave goodbye to Sonny. As he headed to Central Park and Sonny got smaller in the distance, the clouds above began to arrive. It had gone from a bright sunny day to an afternoon headed for showers. Walter picked up the pace a little and the wheels on his big, heavy suitcase turned and turned and squeaked and squeaked. He sped across intersections, ducked behind a cab and narrowly avoided a bunch of dogs and a dog walker. And finally, as he entered the beautiful and enormous Central Park, the first rain appeared. A big, round wet raindrop crashed onto the sidewalk.  “Uh oh,” Walter gulped. This time Walter pushed his big, heavy, noisy suitcase like a shopping cart and headed to the closest wooded area of the park. The large raindrops multiplied and Walter entered an area of trees to find a small but dirty pond.  Only a few drops got into Walter’s area, much to his relief. The trees were thick and their branches helped form a protective canopy, almost like an umbrella.  A shy skunk walked by and whispered “hello.” A brother and sister frog leapt into the pond and started doing the backstroke. A small goldfish leapt out of the pond, spun in the air, and yelled “Hey you over there!”

“Me?” Walter thought. “Yes” the excited, but poorly looking fish said, leaping out of the water once again. Walter walked to the edge of the pond and the fish swam to the ledge and rested its head on a lily pad. “What are you doing in the park?” the fish wondered. This day had taken another twist, but Walter explained his odd journey to this point, including the people he had met and his quest to make it to his hotel. At the end of his description, Walter extended his hand and said, “I’m Walter the Warthog, pleased to meet you.”  The little fish extended its tiny fin and replied, “It’s a pleasure, my name is Frankie the Fish.”  The rain continued to fall outside of the tree canopy. The occasional drop of rain snuck past the branches creating little circles in the little pond. Walter sat down to rest his feet and Frankie just stared at him.

A couple of minutes passed and Walter felt a little uncomfortable with a fish staring at him. “Are you okay?” Walter asked. “Not really,” said the now depressed fish.  “Not many people come to visit me anymore.” Walter the Warthog and Frankie the Fish talked for sometime. In fact, they talked for so long that the storm vanished and the sun reappeared. Big rays of light came through the canopy and big drops on big leaves glistened.

Walter learned that recently, Frankie’s home had become polluted by visitors in the park throwing trash into the pond. Frankie started to experience headaches and some of Frankie’s friends who would used to drink from the pond, now drank elsewhere. No one wanted to drink dirty water.  This was Frankie’s home and it made him feel ill. Frankie was sick, alone and out of ideas. Walter pondered this. There had to be a solution. Walter thought about this further, until a large racket interrupted both he and Frankie’s thinking.

A large school group was coming through the park on a nature tour. The kids must have been 8-9 years old and there were probably 50 of them. About 8 adults made up of teachers and parents were circling the kids as if they were trying to herd cattle. An idea struck Walter like a bolt of lightening. “I’ve got it,” he said to Frankie. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Frankie didn’t argue, he had very little strength to do so. “Okay” he feebly mumbled. And Walter bolted away, leaving his big old suitcase safely under the canopy of trees.

Frankie sort of just floated in the polluted pond and hoped Walter’s idea was good.  His head was pounding and he just wanted his water restored to what it used to be.  So Frankie just hung out for a bit, hoping for the best – keeping his fins crossed.
Walter’s journey was short. As he left the canopy of trees and Frankie in the pond, he immediately encountered the very excited school children. He approached one of the adults who seemed to be in charge. “Good Afternoon” Walter said. “Hi there, Warthog,” the woman replied. “I was wondering what class this is?” Walter questioned. The woman responded that this was a variety of grades, mostly 3rd and 4th graders that were here to explore the nature of Central Park. “That sounds very exciting” Walter replied.  “It is,” the woman said, “We try to get these city kids to understand that there is more to the Big Apple than just buildings, cars and lots of people.” Walter smiled at this, he knew he was on to something.  He took the teacher aside and made more of formal introduction. The teacher’s name was Mrs. Kelly. She was a 4th grade teacher – her favorite subjects to teach were science and geography. “Kids today need to understand the importance of our environment,” she concluded. Walter chimed in, “I want you and your students to meet a friend of mine.  He’s in trouble and could use your help.”

Mrs. Kelly quickly organized all of the students with the help of the other teachers.  It was an amazing thing to watch – Mrs. Kelly herded all of the students into a quiet, organized group. She was obviously a great teacher. The students all stood in a line, very well behaved.  Walter led them to the pond. Every now and then Walter would let out a snort he was so excited.

The parents, students and our Warthog made the walk very quickly. They entered the canopy to find the pond with the lone, sick fish swimming around.  The kids were excited to see the fish, but Frankie couldn’t give much of a welcome. He managed a quiet “Hello everyone.” The kids roared “HELLO MR. FISH!!!!” It was so loud that it created ripples in the pond.  Walter chimed in, “You can call him Frankie.”  The kids roared “HELLO FRANKIE THE FISH!!!!”  Frankie couldn’t hide his smile and more ripples traveled across the pond’s surface.

Mrs. Kelly gathered everyone around the pond. The kids sat on the ground in rows and looked up at their teacher.  Walter stood next to Mrs. Kelly and Frankie swam to the edge of the pond and again rested his chin on his favorite lily pad.  “We have an important job to do,” she told the students.  “Because of pollution, Frankie the Fish has become very sick.”  Some of the students looked confused. One of them raised a hand and asked what pollution is.  Mrs. Kelly praised the student for such a good question and explained that pollution is a process in which our natural environment is harmed.  “Look at all the trash scattered everywhere, this is no place for a fish or anyone to live.” The students became very sad.  “But we can do something about this,” Mrs. Kelly said.  All of the students looked up with big, wide grins.  Walter predictably snorted.

The plan was simple.  Mrs. Kelly sent a couple of parents to buy some rakes, trash bags, gloves and so on.  The rest of the afternoon Walter, Mrs. Kelly, parents and teachers, and 50 little kids cleaned up Frankie’s habitat. They filled over 30 trash bags with cans, potato chip bags, candy bar wrappers and other junk.  They even took time to separate items that could be recycled again.  At the end of the day, the area was spotless and beautiful.  Frankie was overwhelmed and incredibly grateful. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said to all.  “We’re not quite done,” said Mrs. Kelly. “When we get back to the classroom, all of us are going to write letters to the Environmental Protection Agency and State Senators urging them to clean the water in your pond. “No one can resist 4th graders,” she added.  Frankie did an underwater somersault, leapt into the air and yelled “Thank you everyone!”  The children with massive grins, took a deep breath and yelled, “You’re welcome Frankie the Fish!” Frankie laid on his back and let the ripples carry him across the pond.

Mrs. Kelly came back to shake Frankie’s fin and hugged Walter. Walter let out one of the loudest snorts since his arrival in NYC. All of the kids hugged Walter – as you can imagine, it was a snort fest. It got so loud, Frankie swam to the bottom of the pond. The kids eventually left and Frankie came back up to the surface. He couldn’t stop thanking Walter. In fact he thanked Walter so much that Walter turned red with embarrassment. “I’m happy to help a friend,” Walter said.

It was late in the afternoon and Walter still needed to check in to the hotel.  It wasn’t far now. “I’ve got to get going Frankie.” “I understand,” Frankie said.    The fish and warthog said their goodbyes and Walter promised to visit from time to time. “You’ll be better soon Frankie.” And with that, Walter left the pond and canopy and headed back into the city. Walter’s stomach started to grumble, he was hungry, again.

Want to read Part 1 of this story? Click HERE. Otherwise, enjoy…

Tears, snorts, hugs and laughter were shared at the airport as Walter boarded the British Airways 747. Both of his parents were at the airport, even Willie and Woslo had shown up from Paris and lots of people from the village. Although sad, Walter’s best friend, Carlos the Crab had arrived and was up to no good.  His favorite thing to do was to tickle people.  There were a lot of tears, but a lot of laughter.  It took Walter forever to say goodbye to everyone and as he strolled onto the plane he let out a tiny little tear.  As the plane took off and slowly climbed to 35,000 feet, Walter smiled and thought of all the people he was going to help working for the United Nations. He fell asleep, snoring very loudly.  Zzzzz, snort, Zzzzz, snort.

7 ½ hours later, the plane landed at JFK and Walter awoke. A few of the passengers on the plane gave him some strange looks because of the snoring. Walter just smiled at them and let out a snort.  He walked off the plane and headed to customs where they checked Walter’s passport and work permit.  “Everything’s in order Mr. Warthog, enjoy your time in New York City,” the customs officer said.  “Thank you ever so much,” Walter replied.  From there Walter grabbed his luggage and stepped outside the airport. “Oh my goodness,” Walter muttered to himself.  Outside of the airport it was total chaos. Busses, cars, taxicabs, busy people running around – Walter took a deep breath and thought. “I need to get to my hotel.”

When Walter accepted the job offer, he was told that a limousine would pick him up at the airport and take him directly to the hotel. Walter would check in, perhaps do a little sightseeing, get a good nights sleep, and report to work the next morning.  After all, he had a lot of important work to do for the United Nations. As Walter looked around outside of the airport he saw a limousine parked about 100 yards away. That had to be his limousine he thought, it was the closest one.  Walter trudged down to the limo with his luggage, saying hello, smiling and snorting as he passed other travelers and reached the limousine.  The limousine was very long and shiny.  He opened up the back door, threw in the luggage and sat down in luxury.  The interior was spotless and beautiful. There was a television, video games, refrigerator, sunroof, snack bar, you name it! “I must be the luckiest Warthog alive!” Walter said.  He sat there patiently, reviewing some the paperwork the United Nations had sent to him.  The flight had been long and Walter was still tired.  He had been up very late for his going away party and slowly, very slowly, Walter drifted into a deep sleep in the very comfortable limousine. Zzzzz, snort, Zzzzz, snort. Walter was fast asleep.

When Walter finally awoke from his nap, he found himself in a big garage with other limousines. “Oh my goodness,” he said, “This isn’t the Crown Plaza Hotel.”  He quickly gathered his stuff and got out of the limo. There were limousines everywhere, it seemed like they went on forever.  Walter headed to the very end of the garage where it looked like there might be an office. Luckily his big suitcase had wheels on it.  A few minutes later, he arrived and entered the office but no one was there. He went outside and saw someone that was cleaning a limousine. “Excuse me sir, is there no one in the office today?” Walter questioned.  “Not at the moment buddy, they’re all on break.”  Walter thought about this, how did this happen?  “Well which way is the Crown Plaza?”  The man stopped cleaning and laughed. “The Crown Plaza, in Manhattan?” “It’s thataway” And the man pointed, chuckling.  “Thank you for your help” Walter responded and nodded respectfully. So with his big, heavy suitcase on wheels, Walter started walking in the direction the good man had pointed. The Sun staring right down on him.

STAY TUNED FOR PART 3

Walter is the hero of this story. He was born in the south of England. It was far from the city and was tucked away in the quiet countryside amongst old trees and rolling farmland where youngsters could explore. His home was an old stone farmhouse with a pond in the garden. On top of the house sat a thatched roof. During the summer Walter would climb onto the roof, stare at the stars and fall asleep, snoring away. He dreamed of flying across the sky and looking down on other thatched roofs.

Just down the country road, after a couple of bends and past a tiny waterfall was his school, the Tall Hedges Academy. His school was very small but had a very diverse group of students. Aside from a few humans, some of the other students were frogs, tortoises, horses, badgers, slugs and so on. In fact, Walter’s best friend at school was a crab named Carlos. Carlos’ family had moved to the south of England from Mexico when he was little. Why would a Crab family travel all the way to England you ask? Carlos’ parents were members of the Mexican government and had important business in England’s capital, London.

What type of animal was Walter you might ask? Walter was a Warthog. His teachers called him, Walter the Warthog. His best friend Carlos, was addressed as, Carlos the Crab. In fact, most people in the village had names like this. For instance, there was a Tilda the Tortoise, Sammy the Slug, Horris the Hedgehog and Betty the Butterfly. Humans do the same thing with a first and last name. Like George Washington, Nelson Mandela or Hermione Granger.

Walter the Warthog was a fun loving warthog. He cared about everyone he came across in life, it’s one of the reasons he was so popular. His favorite thing to do when meeting someone was to hug them really tight. He would be so happy to meet them, he would snort uncontrollably. Usually he directed the snorts into someone’s ear. This would make them laugh. Most of the time, everyone around him would be laughing.

Walter the Warthog was the youngest of three Warthogs. Winston, his father, was a famous chess player and could beat any computer at chess. His mother Winnie was a tremendous gardener. Winnie grew the biggest carrots in the south of England. Walter’s older siblings were Willie and Woslo. Willie and Woslo were twins and became chefs. They lived in Paris, France and co-owned a restaurant called La Snort-Snort. Walter the Warthog loved his family. Willie and Woslo would call home and tell Walter jokes over the phone. This would make Walter snort loudly into the phone. Eventually the entire family would be snorting. It was a snort fest.

Well as time passed in Walter’s world in the south of England, it became clear to everyone that he was very good student. He was always at the top of this class and excelled at every test he took. The Headmaster of the school, Dr. Oliver the Owl, recommended that Walter attend the University of Oxford, one of the best universities in the world! Walter’s friends and family were incredibly happy for him. They threw a big party at the farmhouse where everyone in the small village attended and his mother even made Walter’s favorite soup, carrot-berry. At the party, Walter made Carlos the Crab laugh so much that the carrot-berry soup came out of his nose! Walter was so excited about his new opportunity that he must have hugged everyone at that party three or four times each! There was a lot of snorting and laughing to be had.

It was both a sad and exciting day when Walter said goodbye to the village. He was a little down because he was leaving his family and friends. BUT, he was the first Warthog ever accepted to Oxford, so Walter was also extremely excited. Walter’s four years at Oxford, flew by. His favorite subjects were politics and anthropology. Politics studies with how countries setup their governments. Anthropology is the study of all human beings. Walter always loved people – of any shape, size, or color. He loved to hug and snort in their ears. The mix of politics and anthropology was a perfect match for Walter. Walter was very smart in other areas as well. He became very fond of art and through many of his courses became quite good at foreign languages. He of course already knew English and had learned Spanish from his best friend, Carlos the Crab. But because Walter was such a serious student, he suddenly found himself speaking French very well, as well as Portuguese, German and Dutch! He even surprised himself, but no one back at the village seemed shocked. Walter had been the smartest student in school, ever. So it came as no surprise to the people in the village, that Walter had many job offers when he graduated from Oxford. The British government desperately wanted Walter to work for its immigration department. There was an animal rights group that were very eager to hire Walter. In fact there were several other companies and agencies interested in hiring Walter the Warthog – all had been pursuing him during his last year of studies. In the eyes of Walter, only one job offer stood out. It was from the United Nations working as an advisor to the Secretary General. Walter accepted their offer and thus began a new chapter in his life. A new start that would take him all the way to New York City.

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2.

Five or six years ago I wrote a children’s story. Then I put it away. Then every 6, 12, 18 or 24 months, I would reopen the file and reread the story, make new edits and then save. Now it’s 2011. It’s been complete for some time.

The story is very much inspired by the England I know. The England I love. It’s inspired by the way I was reared. Whatever happened to me as a kid that has allowed me to think the way I do, is reflected in this story.

Possibly the most British photo I have ever taken

My story is about a Warthog named Walter. Walter is from the south of England. Attended the University of Oxford. Snores in his sleep. Is best friends with a Crab. And as the story tells, lands a job with the United Nations in New York City. He leaves his village in England for the Big Apple – that’s where the story begins.

I’ve often thought about this story and finally doing something with it. Sending it to a publisher. Attending a Children’s Lit conference. Talking to a library. You name it. I’ve always been too scared or intimidated. For some reason tonight, I lost that trepidation.

This weekend I will reopen this story, reread one more time, make some edits and then actually share it with a couple of people close to me. Then, after their feedback, I’m going to release this story, chapter by chapter for you to review, as blog posts. It will finally be out there.

You can make fun of me. You can critique. You can offer edits. You can offer praise. You can simply read. You can ask questions. I only ask that you don’t make fun of Walter. He never did anything to you.

It’s late and I’m off to bed. Guess what I’m having for breakfast?

You can now read Part 1, HERE.

It’s a collaboration with Casey Mullins – who’s a photographer, writer, Moosh in Indy, pretty funny human, friend, mother and lots more.

you see it differently that DOT me

We’re in cahoots on this new project that combines the written word and photography. We met for lunch one day and had it all figured out before I had eaten my 3rd wedge of quesadilla.

I’m lucky. Casey get thousands of web hits a day. I celebrate when I get double digits. I’m glad she agreed to collaborate on this. She also wrote about this project, here. Notice all the comments? Yep.

Our project is a simple concept.

We take turns picking one of our photographs from Flickr. We both write about the image, without consulting the other. The post is then published as one – two sides of the story, one pic. Pretty cool, huh?

We both take it very seriously. We both believe in it. It’s still in it’s infancy. We’re still figuring it out. And we both think you’ll enjoy it.

Would we lie to you?