Tuesday, March 30, 2010

why mike gibbs might save the world


one mike gibbs has been in and around my life for over ten freaking years now. that, in and of itself, is hard enough to wrap my head around. looking back over the history of my 33 years on this planet, there are very, very few characters in my play with such staying power. for those that have, each and every one of them have brought something magical, something...mystical, something...should i say, spiritual to my journey that for whatever reason i haven't been able to, better yet, don't want to let go.

this is richard alpert's mike gibbs' story.

for ten years (really, all, how hard is that for any of us to believe), i've been doing something that hasn't really been named and hasn't really always been promoted as a men's recreation "ministry". here's the rub. this "ministry" has been anything but in the conventional sense of the word. there have been no bible studies. there are very few prayers. unless we've been "damning" his name, there's been very few overt references to the big guy in the sky, the creator, the benevolent force, the queen mother earth, the man behind the curtain, whatever it is that you choose to call that something outside of yourself that may or may not, given the time of day, influence your decision making. there has been basketball. there has been even more softball (in terms of games played). there has been a very weak-ass attempt at flag-football (we were way too old and slow and not that great at football.). there have been friendships forged, some of them that will span the rest of our respective lives. there have been children born. there have been trucks stolen. there have been surprise birthday parties. there has been joy. pain. sorrow. grief. celebration. sadness. above it all, there has been progress.

mike gibbs came to us because i knew a guy named josh corwin. josh is the oldest son of a couple in our church. back in the day, chris perry, john rutland and i started playing basketball on monday nights. josh got word from his parents through chris, if i remember correctly. one of the first nights we played, josh brought two of his buddies, mike gibbs and nate beverly. josh was in and out of the picture for a number of reasons, but mike and nate stuck around a while. moreso than any other factor, this was mainly due to the softball season being a lot longer (josh didn't play softball). basketball lasted 8 games over two winter months. as any significant other of humc softball can attest, softball never ends. opening night is sometime in late march or early, early april. we play through the spring, through the summer, and far enough into the fall 'til the weather reminds us that it's time to play basketball again. mike and nate were part of the group that i still refer to, to this day, as the "founding fathers" of humc softball. me, chris perry, chris hicks, kiker, chip, mike, nate, paul sutton, doug foote, mark mccollister, and michael putman (chris, mark, kiker...am i forgetting anyone???). these players, as far as i am concerned, have lifetime contracts with humc softball. if they want to play, they get to play. if the fates brought us all back together for one final season, the new guys that we've collected and held onto for the last however many years would have to humor our effort and splinter off into a second humc team which i would beg of them to play on as well. the founding fathers practiced across the street from the church on the rocky huffman senior high recreation field. we sang the "greatest american hero" theme song in the outfield and cracked jokes about what a sock-arm our third baseman, chip henson had. we were terrible our first year on the field. as a collective, most of us had played ball, some at decently high levels, but we had never played church league softball. needless to say, we went through some growing pains. we did, however, get better. and to this day, we play well enough to justify playing again every time a new march rolls around.

one of the things that sticks out to me about that first season was what a wild card and wild man mike gibbs was. his friend, nate beverly, carried some baggage along with him too, but he went about his business in a more quiet manner. with very little ado, nate was our best player. a cannon of an arm, a great church league bat. natural athlete. he manned centerfield for us for our first three years. mike was our second best player and our shortstop, but his attitude on and off the field was different and familiar all at the same time.

playing with mike could be frustrating at times because he never could, er, never would take his foot off the gas. he was always looking to take second, even on a simple single. he would take a few steps off of any bag, teasing the opponents into hopefully making a mistake that would allow him to advance further along the basepaths. he would occasionally lazy-ass a swing and "bunt" a ball down the third baseline just so he could get on base and do his little song and dance. every time he fielded a ball at short, he tried to throw it through the first baseman (still does, evidently). when he did swing, he swung for the fence. every time. sometimes, it would work. sometimes, it wouldn't. i was telling a buddy earlier today that mike was a case study in the kind of guy that you love to have on your team but would absolutely loathe if you were playing against. you got the feeling that mike knew this. that he owned it. that he loved playing that role.

it wasn't for a couple years that i learned more of what made mike tick. and it was at that time that i realized what felt so familiar about this guy that i had known for a very short amount of time. once i was privy to some of the personal demons that had, indirectly, led mike into the humc gym, i was able to place it. mike gibbs played basketball and softball like my brother, brian, lived his life. balls to the wall. no turning back. no respect for his body. no real respect for his opponent, whether, by opponent, that meant the other team or authority. no regard for consequences. everything was in front of him. context was loss. live in the moment. live in the now. light a match. watch the city burn behind you kind of mentality. it was that moment or those moments that led to my "mike as brian" realization that i knew we'd be connected somehow for a long time.

i can't begin to analyze the depths of who it was that mike gibbs was when i met him. i can't begin to analyze the depths of who he was over the course of our early relationship, because, frankly, i don't know. we didn't hang out off the field or outside of the gym. we'd catch up while we were together. he'd let me know a little bit about himself here. i'd do the same for him with me there. we weren't the best of friends. i can't claim that. but, there was some sort of connection. one that the both of us have maintained for a long, long time now.

at some point a few years back, after reconciling himself with whatever personal hell he had been through and put himself through, something clicked. what the catalyst was i don't really know. was it his sweet wife? the birth of his first child? something else? probably the combination of a lot of different things. at some point a few years back, though, mike made a surprising decision. he was going back to school. he decided to take control of his life for himself and for his family in a way that he wasn't ready to do when we first met ten long years ago. mike went to school. graduated. has continued school. and in august will receive another degree. over this past weekend, mike was offered a job in tampa with one of the "big four" accounting firms in this country. in ten years, his life turned somehow. for the better. not that his life was bad. not that he was in serious need of being reclaimed. looking back, though, i bet he would tell you, himself, that his life wasn't on the path that he, ultimately, wanted it. now, it seems to be.

of all the freaking places, i found mike gibbs in a tangible way again on facebook. we had e-mailed back and forth a few times over the last few years. played with each other in march madness fantasy pools. but it wasn't until i found him and his wife on facebook that we would eventually find a way to reconnect in the same arena that we found each other a decade ago. last night, for the first time in years, i played softball with mike gibbs again. it felt like old times. it felt familiar. but there was something new and improved about this mike gibbs. it had nothing to do with how he was playing softball. he still seemed as active as ever. he was still the only one of us to hit one out during batting practice. there was a new look in his eyes. one that felt calm. cool. collected. a look i had never seen before in mike. a look that had probably been there a while, but i haven't seen mike in a while.

driving home last night, ten years worth of memories rushed through my mind all at the same time. from those first practices at huffman to winning seasons to winning leagues to going winless in basketball two seasons ago to jumping back to respectability this year. it wasn't the wins or losses or scores that i thought of. it was the stories. the cast that has changed, evolved and written the story that i've been lucky to be a part of for almost a third of my life. it's really quite unbelievable.

the redemption of mike gibbs is as powerful as any character that i obsess about on LOST. we all have differing degrees of ingredients that hold us captive in our lives. history, experiences and pain that make us feel like we are very minor pieces in someone else's game. and at either some point or maybe many points we are faced with a decision. stay captive, stay a pawn or look unflinchingly into our pain and into our past and take control of our lives again. last night, i saw in his eyes the fulfilfment of one person that i hold dear to my heart looking into his past, owning it and taking it with him in a different and more positive direction. the mike gibbs of ten years ago was not ever going to be a big shot accountant at a big four firm. the mike gibbs of last night will attack that job in the fall with the same ferocity i've always known him to attack a softball, only this time his focus will be true. his eyes will be looking forward and not over his shoulders.

i told mike a few months ago that, in spite of his grace, i had nothing to do with his redemption. i told him it was all him. that it was always in him. and it makes me so happy to see him happy with where his life is leading him and his family.

just to be around someone like mike gibbs, though. just to be around something like his story is why i will play softball 'til the queen mother earth sees fit to take my other kidney...

it's why i will never throw caroline through a plate glass door after she repeatedly hits me in the face...

it's why i am in "limbo". and it has NOTHING to do with reconciling who in that group, currently, believes this shit or who in that group may now or may ever believe that shit. and to those of you that share that group or that idea with me now that have had that worry..., drop it. or choose to use it as an excuse. either way, it's on you. there is nothing to reconcile. there is nothing to worry about. because no matter at whose face i have to throw a doughnut, limbo will be about the journey and our journey together. it will be about finding hope in a shitty, shitty world that's made up of people not inclined to sin but looking for a way to do good. if it's the bible that compels them, so be it. if it's the force and you can use that shit to move rocks out of the way when we need you to, so be it. if it's the troll talking to you from your closet that we can call on to help us out of a sticky situation, so be it. if, as in my case, it's an invisible creator that i seem to feel a spiritual connection with, so be it. but don't let reconciliation get in the way. because reconciling is what we do. it's the fuel in our tank, not the sugar. it's mike gibbs. it's "mike freaking gibbs".

this is his story, but dammit. it's also mine. and yours.

this isn't a redemption story as much as it is a progress story. a hope story. the story of one man that makes me feel more optimistic about my own.

dammit, i love softball. i love that i was playing softball again with mike gibbs last night. and i love every single man that has worn that green or white jersey with me at some point in time like he was my brother, because they have all helped write this story.

i am undeserving of ever having touched your lives. but i can promise you this. you have made mine a better place.

thank you.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

the next big thing?


about a month ago, i teased a forthcoming series of posts that would feature the potential future face of atlanta braves baseball, a young player by the name of jason (julio...it's not his real nickname, but it will be mine) heyward.

what i didn't realize at the time, though, was that i was already behind the curve. unlike with julio version 1.0, i wasn't one of the first on the bandwagon. about a week after mentioning julio heyward on HACAM, both ESPN and SI released their respective "top prospects in the game" list. who was number one on both? heyward. bobby cox has said that the sound the ball makes off of heyward's bat sounds a lot like it did off the bat of a pretty good player in his own right, one mr. hank aaron. my brother, ken, and i were e-mailing back and forth about heyward yesterday and he told me the atlanta media had dubbed him a wicked hybrid of ryan howard and willie mays.

suffice it to say, i will not be shedding any light on some diamond in the rough when it comes to julio heyward. the cat is already out of the bag. up until his last game on the 20th, he had reached base in his first 9 spring games. even with an 0-fer on saturday, he's batting .387 through ten games with an OPS of over 1.100. no one has come out and said he's locked up the starting job in right just yet (in much the same way my boy jordan schafer was left to wonder last spring if he had nailed down centerfield 'til the week of opening day), but the depth chart on the braves website leaves us a not-so-subtle hint that he's in control of his own destiny at this point.

so, what does this all mean?

well, really, nothing yet. as "baseball people" are quick to remind everyone that will listen, spring training doesn't mean anything. those same baseball people will try and tell you sometime mid-summer that games in april and may don't mean nearly as much as they do in august and september. as i have noted here a couple times before, that is the most retarded thing any "baseball person" will ever say in their whole baseball life.

nevertheless, making the team or starting on opening day does not change the world. we have to look no further back than opening night, 2009. schafer pounded a home run in his first at-bat of the season. the braves pound the would-be national league pennant winners. all was merry and bright for exactly two more days. having started the season 2-0 and up 8 runs with three innings to play for a season-opening sweep, schafer hurts himself and the braves bullpen gives up the game. bobby cox kept sending schafer out hurt, effectively ending his season before it even began. he mangled the bullpen more often than not. the braves brought up tommy hanson a month too late. they had a pretty good season, but still finished a few games out of the wild card.

i say all that to say this. jason heyward could be the next dale murphy or he could be the next hank aaron or the next chipper jones or the next whatever great brave you want to name or the combination of all of them, and bobby cox could still find a way to screw it up.

but one of the things that we, and by "we" i mean "i", will follow this baseball season is this. what if julio heyward can somehow manage to change the culture of the braves in the same way that julio jones changed the culture of alabama football just by signing his letter of intent?

when julio made it onto youtube by beating first-team all-sec safety rashad johnson deep in one of his first practices, he announced without having to say a word (not that he could since saban won't let freshmen speak to the media) that something had turned for the positive.

in the same way, what if all these stories of heyward's mythical batting practice sessions translate to the field during the first month of the season? sure, mccann's great. tommy hanson could be great. chipper was great. but none of them are transcendent. none of them bring the casual fan out to the ballpark to see what all the fuss is about.

what if heyward did that? what if he raked for the first couple of weeks and casual atlanta fans starting coming out to the ballpark again? what if, for the first time in a decade, the casual fans added to the already there diehards created a real life homefield advantage. and what if that homefield advantage led to four or five more wins for the braves this season.

all other things being equal to last year (and even adding my darling timmy back into the mix), what if this was enough to get the braves back into the playoffs?

what if the braves matched up with the dodgers, cards or phillies in the playoffs and had a first three of hanson, jurrjens and hudson, maybe mixing in a little lowe in a seven game series??? holy shit. i'd take that against halladay, hamels and whomever. every day of the week, i would!

you see what i mean? what if the heyward effect could last longer than the schafer effect. bobby cox broke jordan and the schafer effect lasted three days. what if julio heyward could prove everybody right and change the course of franchise's fate?

no pressure, right?

but, you know what? there was never any more pressure put on any one athlete that i've ever followed closely than a young man named julio jones. the batshit crazy thing about his hype and his pressure is that he lived up to every bit of it. and thanks to him and saban, alabama went from also-ran to champ in two years.

it can be done.

i believe in jason (julio) heyward.

do you?

Thursday, March 18, 2010

worst. bracket. ever?


no post tuesday, i know. i figured it would be pretty damn ridiculous for me to give anyone my hardcore "analysis" when i've seen, like, three or four college basketball games (from beginning to end) all season. sure, i've caught bits and pieces. how could i not? i mean, i do have and watch a whole lot of espn. sure, i watch sportscenter and catch the talking heads talk, talk, talking about who's good and who's got "flaws" and who's terrible and whatever. i see and hear them talk, talk, talk and i just remind myself that "nobody knows anything".

i still want to pinch every single human that fills out more than one bracket, because i will never understand what the fun in that truly is. maybe i'd get it if i actually bet money and if one out of my seven brackets won third place in my best friend's work pool and i could afford a free arby's milkshake or something, but i don't bet actual money, because i think that's pretty stupid. not betting, mind you, but betting on something as random as the ncaa's seems retarded to me.

so, i plan to lose this year. and i plan to be every bit as pissed off as i would be had i watched every single basketball game there was to watch this season and felt like i was the most educated college basketball fan EVER. that's just how it works. i don't need much help to find myself pissed off.

my method was simple this year. i waited 'til this morning. i picked my teams without any hesitation and without even the first second-guess. i let my gut and whatever knowledge the inner workings of my brain deemed important enough to figure into the equation be my guide.

it seems i hate kentucky and that spoiled brat demarcus cousins. so, i have them losing this weekend. that is pretty stupid.

i hate duke. they are terrible. i have them, too, losing this weekend. that is ridiculous.

i think kansas has been overrated all year. i have them losing in the sweet sixteen. kansas is going to win the title. i am a moron.

syracuse will probably lose this weekend to gonzaga. i have them in the championship game. really, i should never pick a bracket again.

i have three big east teams in the final four. i have some team called "bay-lor" in the elite eight. i have a team that can't shoot winning it all.

and i couldn't be happier.

my final four:

syracuse over ohio st.
west virginia over louisville

west virginia = champs.

let the games begin.

and my misery ensue.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

instant observations


okay. home from bible study and i am taking my first good look at the brackets. we'll get further into it on tuesday, but here are the things that are striking to me right now...


- the south bracket is as weak as i've ever seen. duke is posing as a one. what's worse? there is no one, minus villanova, in the bracket that can knock them off! unbelievable. purdue as a four??? why? because they just lost to a minnesota team that shouldn't be in the tourney (wherefore art thou, mississippi state???) by fifty a couple days ago??? yeah, that makes sense. i hope baylor makes a run to the final four. i don't know if i'll pick it, but i'll hope it.

- gonzaga got raped with their seed. weren't they just ranked in the top fifteen when they lost in their conference tourney final? and now, they are an eight and have to play the 'cuse in the second round. that's terrible. i am looking forward to hearing an explanation on that one.

- midwest bracket is loaded. kansas could get michigan st. in the sweet sixteen then georgetown/evan turner in the final eight? tough, tough games for the overall one seed. good potential games all around. if you look at the brackets and if you think they are the best team, kansas deserved a softer bracket, like the pansy ass duke bracket. have i mentioned how heinous the south bracket is?

- killer second round games? michigan st./maryland, tennessee/georgetown, syracuse/gonzaga, nothing in the terrible south, kentucky/texas

- cinderella possibilities? utep and cornell

- huge upset that i want to pick tonight but may not come thursday. texas over kentucky.

this will be the worst bracket i ever fill out. the least educated. the least amount of games during the regular season i've ever watched. the fewest gut picks due to passing the "eye test" earlier in the year. i preemptively blame alabama for sucking and giving me zero motivation to watch any more basketball than i did.

i can't wait!
"you're the only person that knows about this"
(i haven't told this to anyone else)


how many times in your life has the above line been delivered to you? five? ten? twenty-five? that's probably the limit, right? unless you are paid to listen to people talk, there isn't a great chance that many people have told you their deepest and darkest secrets. there's an even better chance that you weren't the first to hear it if and when it ever did happen. and there's an even better chance that the above statement was further from the truth than alabama is from texas if it was delivered by one of your closest friends. welcome to human-ville.

...

i would probably say, "ten-ish".

that's how many times i would guess that someone has told me to hold onto one of their most emotional memories and keep it to myself. the vast majority of those instances probably occurred between 1999 and 2005 when i was the student director at huffman and, considering the intimate moments were being shared with me by young people that may have only been scratching the surface of their potential grip on their emotions, there was no way in hell i was going to break that confidence. what kind of scumbag would that make me? a pretty big dick of a scumbag is what. and so, to this day, i hold onto those thoughts, some secrets, some just...thoughts that i was flattered to hear and resolved to keep.

how well do you really know a person?

it all depends on your definition of "know". you don't know me. i don't know you. and we're all the better for it.

you talk about me and i talk about you, and, hopefully, in the normal run of things i give you the same benefit of the doubt that i wish you would give me.

maybe it happens. maybe it doesn't.

maybe you trust me. maybe i don't, you.

relationships are odd things and simple all at the same time. if you want to make it work, you make it work, whether it's friendship, family or something more. of course, the odd part is that every relationship takes something different to make it work. a different set of factors. a different side of your personality. a different group of experiences. a different set of circumstances. a different amount of effort. "all you need is love"?

bullshit.

all you need is you.

what if you are in it and i am not?

what if i am in it and you are not?

what then?

you drop it. regret. and turn up the blood brothers 'til time gives way to a brighter perspective.

or watch alabama football. or drink your night away. or read. or watch a movie. or have biased friends tell you biased things about how great you are and what a wretched pile of damaged trash he/she really is.

don't worry. it's not your fault.

i can promise you that it's him/her that is crazy.

feel better about yourself now. pick it up. move on.

it's not your fault.

rinse. repeat. why is this happening again?

because you are happening again. we aren't so enlightened. we aren't so smart. we are what we are. you got into this in the first place. so, where can i put my baggage? your place? great. i'll be eating your food.

this is the end.

"i need you like water in my lungs."

shut the fuck up.

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

has it really been that long?
(of course it has)


funny how things change. funny how things stay the same.

september 14, 2008. that's when this thing started to change. we just didn't know it yet.
(yes, i realize how lazy i've become when most of my "research" for these posts is as simple as trekking down the dark and dusty hallways of this blog. whatareyagonnado?)

on sunday night, september 14, 2008, chip henson played the role of martin luther and spokesman on behalf of his small group and took before the governing body of humc his 20 "theses",...his 20 questions that would be the beginning of one end and the beginning of another beginning in the life of his church.

perhaps we handled it wrong. perhaps we handled it right. that's been debated and could continue to be the topic of debate for as long as we were interested in beating a dead horse, but make no mistake. something changed that night. it just took us a year and a half to fully realize it.

and that's ok.

this past sunday after worship, the laity of humc were invited to a post-worship luncheon and training session. the purpose of the training session would be this. we would talk about the current organizational structure of our church. come up with a list of questions and answers regarding the duties of certain committees and move forward with renewed purpose and vigor because we would all be on the same page moving forward.

that last sentence was a little sarcastic. we were never going to be on the same page, because we haven't yet figured out what book we are reading. the good news, though, is that we do now seem to be searching around in the same library (or li-mbo-brary, maybe? hmm.).

"training" never really happened on sunday as far as has been reported to me. i was in another room with another group until close to the end of the session. what did happen was unusual but quite familiar at the same time. the general, governing board group seemed to come to a consensus conclusion. that being "we have no idea what is going on."

awesome.

no, really, i think that is awesome! no one needed any weeds to stand in front of them to tell them what they thought the group or church was doing wrong. there didn't seem to be any sort of visceral conflict. no one threw anything. no one cursed or left the room because it didn't seem worth their time. no one vowed to leave and go to trussville or clearbranch or leave the methodist church. none of that happened. and that, folks, as screwy as it may sound, is progress.

what did come out of the not-training was that we still lacked structure. we still need some sort of hierarchical tree that our leaders can reference so that they know what route they can take to accomplishing their goals, whatever those end up being. we "learned" that we have groups or committees in our church that seem to be responsible the same or similar things and, henceforth, nothing ends up happening because it's just too easy to pass the buck or the fault to "that other group" that was supposed to take care of whatever it was. amazing, right? i am sure that's never happened in any other business or church.

we came to several conclusions, all framed under the umbrella of lack of direction and communication, the same problems that have plagued us for ten-plus years, the same problems that chip's "theses" addressed a year and a half ago. the same problems that it took the governing body 18 months to own and vow to solve.

how about that?!?!?

can we say, "victory!"

yes, we can. and yes, we should. we should celebrate the frustration because it was tinted with more optimistic colors this time around. it wasn't so much "who do you think you are???" as it was "okay, so what do we do about it?" again, i cannot stress to you how positive an outcome i feel like this is.

sunday afternoon, things felt very much the same. two days later, things feel a little different, and that is a very good thing.

you remember way back when? at some point in the past, some post went up here on HACAM that drew the analogy of our church finding itself sliding down an icy slope and wishing that we could find the strength to drive our pick in the mountain to stop the slide. somewhere in the last 18 months, we found that strength. we stopped sliding.

it will take us all to get back up our hill. not one of our shoulders is strong enough to lug us all back up by him or herself.

care to latch on and join the climb?

we'd love to have you.

Saturday, March 06, 2010

the one where limbo happened


imagine, if you will, a place that seems too good to be true.

utopian in every sense of the word, all gathered may feel at home.

none without questions, none with all the answers.

many seeking something, some thing.

all thinkers, because thinking is ok.

all questioners, because questions are required.

all honest, none beyond reproach.

none beyond approach.

most looking to learn something. about some thing.

readers.

tv-ers.

internet-obsessed-ers.

all looking to do something. for some thing.

this is new.

but it is old.

there is nothing new under the sun.

or, is there?

probably not that you can find in huffman.

or, maybe there is.

what have we done wrong?

what can we do to change it?

"what about me?"

"what about you?"

it's not about the numbers.

it's about the process.

it's about the feeling.

it's spiritual, man.

dude, it's like, dude...

imagine, if you will, a place that seems too good to be true.

utopian in every sense of the word. all gathered may feel at home.

one sunday down.

how many to go?

is this open-ended?

is this like-minded?

is it for everyone? for every one?

listen for the answer.

then listen harder for "the why".

"the why" is all that matters.

why should you?

why should i?

to whom is this addressed?

collect it now.

address it later.

"if you build it, they will come."

is that the point?

imagine, if you will, a place that seems to good to be true.

redemption.

worth.

check.

your head.

you're ahead.

for now.

create in me a clean heart.

invite everyone. invite every one.

why?

we'll figure it out.

will it be worth it?

will you?

that's a lot of gas.

that's a lot of time.

that's a lot to swallow.

blink.

blink.

find your "thin place".

what if this is it?

"hate is baggage."

imagine, if you will, a place that seems too good to be true.

...

...

now, make it happen.

Thursday, March 04, 2010

rich eisen is not very fast


this link and clip is amusing on a lot of different levels, but i think the take home point is this. nfl caliber athletes are freaks.

when they are all collected on the same field, running into and past each other, their athletic prowess is impressive, sure, but i think it is hard to realize just what kind speed, shiftiness and grace these not-natural human beings possess.

rich eisen used to be my favorite sportscenter anchor. i hate that the nfl network paid him more to work for them. i can't get the nfl network.

my guess is, though, he's not what a lay person would consider a terrible athlete. i bet he played ball as a kid, just like me. i bet he made all-stars, just like me. i bet he could still make his way around a rec-league softball field, just like me. and i bet he runs a forty yard dash, just like me.

check out this link and watch the video. watch how fast tebow is. how fast mt. cody is compared to eisen (keep in mind that cody weighed in at the combine at a slim 354). and watch freaking jacoby ford. dear lord.

this thing is just awesome. big props to rich eisen for being self-deprecating enough to have some fun at his own expense.

http://deadspin.com/5484897/rich-eisens-40+yard-dash-an-amusing-special+effects-bonanza