Tim Russert 1950-2008

Sunday mornings at 9 a.m. will never be the same.
In a life where I am often on the go and unsure where exactly I might be at any given time, one safe bet was that on Sunday mornings, I'd be watching Meet The Press.
That is why I was so saddened, shocked and heartbroken this afternoon when I learned the Tim Russert had died suddenly from an apparent heart attack.
I feel such a great sense of loss. It is not often that something happens that makes me realize that life will never be the same. Russert's loss is one of those moments for me. I can't recall any news that was more devastating to me since that morning a year-and-a-half ago when I learned that my father had died. Russert's loss leaves a significant void in this world. Politics and journalism will never be the same.
I don't recall when or why I started watching Meet The Press. Even if I wasn't able to watch it live on Sunday's, I'd always tape it and watch it later. One of the reasons it became such a can't miss program for me was Tim Russert.
Whether it was on Meet The Press or when he'd appear on other programs, when Russert talked about politics, I'd want to hear what he had to say. I can't think of any other television journalist that I liked, respected and admired more. When he declared last week that Barack Obama would be the presumptive nominee for the Democratic Party, it wasn't news I didn't already know or assume, but it meant a great deal more coming from him. I trusted his instincts, his knowledge and his insight. When Russert spoke, he spoke volumes.

He seemed like a regular guy. He was a blue collar, Irish Catholic that didn't forget his roots and didn't try to be somebody else. He always talked about his beloved Buffalo Bills. He wrote a book about his reverence for his father. He seemed like a fun person, but he was also a brilliant reporter and interviewer.
In this day and age of the Hannity's and O'Reilly's, people that fake journalism and tout agenda's, Russert was the epitome of fair and balanced. He was tough. He knew his stuff, and he'd challenge the people he interviewed and questioned their ideas, their words and their actions. He did it all in a respectful way. In an era where politicians are liars and hypocrites, Tim Russert could hold them accountable.
Tim Russert wasn't about himself. He was about the issues. He was about the truth in politics. He was a giant in his business, but he seemed as down to earth as any one of us. This son of a sanitation worker connected with viewers and politicians. He was one of us and respresented us in his work.

I haven't read his book about "Big Russ", the story of his father, but Russert and Meet The Press often reminds me of my own father. There were Sunday mornings in Owls Head or one of those final Sunday mornings when I went down to Gorham to visit my father weeks prior to his death. We'd watch Meet The Press together on those mornings. My love of history and politics was something I always shared with my Dad. We'd discuss the issues of the day.
As a journalist myself, I wasn't drawn to Russert because of my profession. I'm a political junkie. I love listening to pundits and hearing candidates answering the questions I want to ask. I could always count on Russert providing me the information I sought and the opinions and insight that informed.
Now as I reflect on Russert and his work as a journalist, I can't help but notice that many of the things I liked about him are traits that are very important to me when I go about my job.
He was a man that did his homework. He was prepared and knew the issues he dealt with. He was fair and respected but also liked and considered a friend by peers and contemporaries. He brought a passion and enthusiasm to his work. He reported and informed. He made the world of politics and journalism that much greater.
I feel bad that I never had a chance to meet him because I know I would have liked him. But that would make today even harder. I've been listening to colleagues offer tributes to him on the news as I write this. I still can't believe it. Tim Russert was a constant, a guy and presence that I always thought would be there. Politics, journalism and humanity are lessened today.

If it's Sunday, it's Meet The Press. But it will never be the same.

Truth And Lies

Those who have never heard their knee pop should never criticize those who have.

I was stunned to hear the gibberish that was spawned over the weekend about Boston Celtic forward Paul Pierce and his knee injury in last Thursday's NBA Final opener.

Pierce was injured in a collision with his own player early in the third quarter. He went down in a heap, grabbed his knee and was in obvious pain. He was carried off the court and put in a wheelchair in the back halls of the FleetCenter.

I've seen plenty of knee injuries in my lifetime - have even had a couple myself. I thought for sure, Pierce was done for the series. When Celtic center Kendrick Perkins rolled his ankle moments later, I was just about ready to hit the remote and find something else to watch.

Then just 1:45 of elapsed gametime later, Pierce came bouncing out of the tunnel, looking like a prize fighter ready to rumble. He returned to the game and hit back-to-back 3's in the quarter and help the Celtics open the lead.

It had people making Willis Read references. I don't know about that comparison. When Reed returned after a serious injury and spark his New York Knicks it was well before my time. I likened Pierce to the playoff series years ago when Larry Bird shook off an injury in a collision and returned to the game to lead Boston to victory. It may not have been a warrior effort like Reed's, but both Bird and Pierce provided a pretty good sports moment and gave their teams a significant lift, especially if you're a Celtic fan.

Then all the Laker beat writers and fans began to cry. They said Pierce was faking. He was acting. He was milking the situation for drama. Maybe the LA people should take off their designer sunglasses and actually see what is going on.

Of course, these are the same people that cheer on their beloved Kobe Bryant, a rapist, an adulterer, a liar and a whiny self-absorbed egomaniac. How about his pathetic press conference with his wife following his "rendezvous" in a Colorado hotel. Now that was worthy of an Oscar - and jail time.

Even if Pierce, for some odd reason, had choreographed the entire thing, that certainly doesn't speak well of the weak-minded Lakers that folded their tents following his return.

Certainly Pierce may have overreacted a bit. His knee wasn't as severely hurt as he initially thought. Last I knew, that's not a crime. He had waited his entire career to reach this plateau and play for a title. Now he hears his knee pop and feels the pain in his knee. Anyone in that situation would be scared and thinking the worst.

When I hurt my knees, I never heard them pop. When I dislocated my left knee playing basketball, the fact that my knee cap was a bit left of center was an obvious sign of a serious injury. Well, that and the fact that it hurt like hell. When I ruptured my patella tendon in my right knee (that's the tissue that connects your knee cap to your lower leg), my knee cap, free from its lower attachment to my lower leg, had risen up toward my thigh. Again, it was obvious that something was wrong.

In Pierce's case, he may not have had those signs, but when your knee suffers a blow like that the last thing you're going to be thinking about is jumping right back up on it. Once the trainers came to his attention, they looked it over and determined he should be carried off and put in a wheelchair. It wasn't until the original trauma had subsided, and he had the opportunity to examine his range of motion and weight baring that it was determined he wasn't as injured as first thought.

How many other pro athletes have you seen carried off or stagger off with an injury only to see return a bit later? It happens all the time. Pierce's case was just a bit more dramatic, especially in the atmosphere of the NBA Championship.

That still doesn't give people the right to criticize his reaction. I can see Laker fans saying something idiotic like that. That's what fans do. They check their common sense at the door when they follow the masses of fanaticism. Intelligence is overwhelmed by a mouth and heart consumed by blind allegiance. LA beat writers should know better and show professionalism.

Reporters are taught to write what they know. When they get into trouble is when they attempt to analyze things they know nothing about. Unless you've felt your knee pop or come apart and know what that pain is like and what fear that creates, you have no right to criticize those that have suffered through that kind of experience, regardless of the severity of the injury.

We Don't Need No Color Code

From the pain come the dream

From the dream come the vision

From the vision come the people

From the people come the power

From this power come the change

... Peter Gabriel

It isn’t often I can sit in front of the television and see history like this occur.

History happens every day, and with the glutton of cable news channels, it isn’t hard to see news made hour by hour - even manufactured (if I accidentally put Fox on).

Tuesday night was different. As I hunkered down for another evening of watching political coverage, it dawned on me the relevance of what was about to occur. At some point, Barack Obama was going to surpass the total delegates needed and become the presumptive nominee for the Democratic Party.

Now such an ending wasn’t completely a surprise to me. I thought he’d win it when he first announced his candidacy back in Springfield, Illinois (not the Springfield where the Simpson's live). I had my doubts at times. His early campaign reminded me of one of those up-and-coming teams that aren’t quite ready to win yet. Many of those teams have to lose one before they win one. When Hillary Clinton appeared assured of the nomination, I started to accept the idea that Obama might not win.Of course, a funny thing happened to Clinton’s coronation. She ran a lousy campaign. She rested on her laurels and her husband’s coat tails. She ran on inevitability instead running on change - in a change election. She took the nomination for granted, assumed Obama was too green to make a difference and figured she’d have the primary completed by Super Tuesday. Oops.

Now, Clinton is pretending she hasn’t seen the election results. She’s got her hands over her ears, yelling “Naaaa Naaaaa Naaaaa” to anyone trying to tell her she’s lost. The shoo-in is about to be told to shoo. Meanwhile, Obama has become the first African-American nominated to be president.

I don’t have any African-American roots. I can’t think of a time where racism has really impacted me. Yet, it was captivating to watch this great moment in history evolve right before my eyes. I got chills when he stepped to the podium in Minnesota with the roaring crowd behind him.

This was a shot heard round the world. America, a place that has been trying to combat racism and prejudice since its inception truly lived up to its doctrine of “All Men Are Created Equal.” Of course, Clinton apparently didn’t hear it. As this country was making history, she was too self involved to even acknowledge it.

Obama’s story is an amazing one. His father was from Kenya. His mother is from Kansas. He grew up in various places around the world and sought to find the American dream. His story isn’t unlike many of our own. My ancestors were English, Scottish, German and Irish - the only French I have in me apparently is from French Fries and French Toast. They all came to this country looking for a new start and new possibilities.

Certainly, there have been presidential candidates that are products of American’s great melting pot, but none like Obama. He has lifted the discourse, or at least tried, above race. He has shown that it is not the color of one’s skin but the brightness of one’s ideals. He has brought a message of hope and change. He has hinted at the dawning of a new age, where people share ideas, hopes and dreams with civility and understanding. He has weathered, thus far, the race-baiting of the Clinton's and the smear tactics of the Republicans with dignity and class.

He has given reason to care about politics again and care about the direction of our country, bringing some hope that a difference can actually be made. I am proud to have been able to attend the caucus in Maine during the primary election and be part of his victory in our state. It was a state assumed that Clinton would win, but Maine was part of his string of consecutive victories that paved the way to the nomination.

Generations of this country have worked for this moment. Men and women have died for the cause of freedom and equality. Obama’s nomination shows the progress that has been made and that what is right can overcome the fundamental wrongs that are interwoven in our history. I’d be naive to think that racism and prejudice has been eradicated. There will be people that won’t vote for Obama because he’s black. There are others that are just as closed minded that will not vote for him because of his name. It is still sad that such a modern society can still have people promote such hatred and a lack of understanding.

This journey to reach equality and the ideals this Democratic society was built upon still has a ways to go. While President Jugears tries to force-feed democracy down the throats of people in the Middle East, Obama’s nomination serves as a true example of democracy at work. Obama promised to bring change when he began his candidacy and with Tuesday’s victory in the primary, he has delivered just that.

The Ending Will Come - From Out Of The Blue

At some point, you just want it to end.

That's what former National Hockey League goaltender and coach Glen Hanlon said after his Portland Pirates won a grueling overtime hockey game a few years ago. As we stood in the hallway of the Worcester Centrum following the early morning win that kept the Pirates playoff hopes alive, Hanlon talked about the seemingly never-ending string of overtimes his team had just endured. It was as if we all wished for some kind of ending, not really caring who actually eventually won.

Whenever I see an overtime hockey game, that comment comes to mind. And last night, it was prevalent once again. I happened to pick up the Detroit-Pittsburgh playoff series on NBC last night. Because of the NHL's idiotic television coverage on obscure cable channels that I don't have, I didn't even realize the game was on REAL TV last night. I jumped on the bandwagon early in the first overtime and quickly was drawn into the drama. One goal would give the Red Wings the Stanley Cup or one goal would give the Penguins a chance to play another day. I'm not a fan of either team but can't stand the Penguins. So, I was a Red Wings fan for a night.

Overtime hockey is the game at its best. You can't beat the drama where the next goal decides it all. I especially enjoy them when I'm watching at home. I can enjoy the excitement and the suspense without the stress of deadlines and editors breathing down my neck.

Of course, some of the overtime games that I've covered are the most memorable, and like that comment by Hanlon, they all come to mind when I watch a game like I did last night.

That game in Worcester is one I won't soon forget. The Pirates were favored to win the series but dropped the first two games at home. Facing elimination in Game Three, it appeared they were headed for a sweep. They were trailing in the second period, and I had already begun tinkering with a potential obituary - (the lead I had was used two days later when they were ousted in Game Four). Portland rallied in the third period and took the lead. So I rewrote the story and had it done. From the make-shift press row in the upper deck of the Centrum, I had my computer shut down and put away. I was just waiting for the Pirate win before rushing down below to the media room to file a quick story before getting quotes. Then Portland got a late penalty, and Worcester scored in the final seconds to tie it. Fortunately, there were thousands of screaming Wildcat fans there, and nobody heard the words that came out of my mouth. They certainly would have warranted the soap treatment.

Fortunately for me, I had had a gut feeling overtime was due that evening. So prior to the game, I had done a 20-plus inch notebook to use as filler, just in case. Good thing I did.

Two or three overtimes later, the Pirates won. It was like 12:30 in the morning. I was sitting in the stands by that point so I'd be close to the press room when the winner was scored. When I sent a rushed story without quotes, I asked how much time I had for a write-through. I was told 15 minutes. I got home about 4 a.m. or so and had to drive back to Worcester two days later to watch the Pirates lose.

Then there was the Easter Sunday Pirates game that went on forever. Fortunately it was an afternoon affair. Deadline was no worry. This was another two or three overtime game and had Portland fans recalling the "Bud Stefanski Game" back in the Maine Mariner days. I was at that playoff game. It was the longest game in Mariner history at that time. I can still vividly recall Stefanski diving across the crease for a loose puck for the tying goal in the final seconds of regulation. The Pirates weren't so lucky. Saint John dominated most of the game and ultimately won. Portland goalie Sebastien Charpentier played outstanding and you couldn't help feel bad for the guy afterward. With his playoff beard in full bloom, he kind of looked like a sweaty Ewok from Star Wars. He said sullenly that he was just trying to play his best and please all the fans that had doubted him earlier in the season. You just wanted to hug to poor guy.

There was also an elimination Game Five in Springfield one year. The Pirates had won the first two games on the road but couldn't close it out at home. I ended up having to return to Springfield for Game Five on my birthday. The Pirates lost on a redirection in front in the third period, 1-0. It was a stunning loss and the playoff season that was expected to go on for weeks was over.

As stressful and unpredictable as those games are, they're pretty fun. I might be a bit nerved up because of deadlines, but I can be freakishly calm during those affairs. It is one of those instances where I know I'm doing something most people probably couldn't do. It's not often my job gets the adrenaline flowing like that, but it can be a thrill to get your story done and filed in minutes in those circumstances - even if you have a four-hour drive home afterward.

Last night, I couldn't help but want the game over with. But you can't just turn off a game like that, especially when the Cup is being shined in the back room somewhere just in case. I was dozing off at times, but got my second wind for the third period. There were people involved in the game that I've interviewed in the past, Penguins Coach Michel Therrien and players Sidney Crosby, Jimmy Howard, Sergei Gonchar. I remember Gonchar coming to Portland when he couldn't speak English.

He came on the ice after missing time to an injury and spearheaded the Penquins power play that produced the winner early in the third overtime. Just like the David Gilmour song says "The ending will come, from out of the blue. " Game over.

It was almost 1 a.m. Finally, the game was done. And even better, I didn't have a story to write. I shut off the TV and went to sleep.

Just Gimme Some Truth

They've called him "sad" and referred to him as a "miserable beast". They've called his actions puzzling - even though they had seen advance copies of Scott McLellan's book over a month ago.
They've tried every way imaginable to disparage the former White House press secretary, but one thing I have not heard him called by the resounding right wing propaganda machine is a liar.
McLellan released his book last week that critiques the War Monger's administration. His revelations weren't much of a surprise. What do you mean the Incompetent Cowboy manufactured the reasons for war? President Jugears is really a steadfast religious zealot alcoholic that's as stubborn as a jackass (my apologies to all jackasses)? The White House is full of liars and egomaniacs, there to serve themselves and their cause rather than the country? You mean Mr. Compassionate Conservative couldn't give a damn about New Orleans and the Katrina victims. Well, duh!!!
Some of us knew all that long before McLellan was serving as this three-ring circus "yes-man". I'd figured that out before America decided that it might be good to reelect an idiot because they'd like to have a drink with him and like his cowboy belt buckle.
But this isn't an I told you so rant. It is not surprising that McLellan is selling his former boss down the Potomac River. It is not surprising the book's release has created a buzz. What is interesting is that the reaction is more around the fact that a Bush loyalist went against the Crawford Cowboy and his rodeo clowns. Nobody really seems to be up in arms about what he actually says in the book.
The Drawlin Dictator and his cronies are trying to smear and cloud the issue with all kinds of talking points to avoid the truth - which is exactly what McLellan says they did about Iraq. If they make discussion about the man and question his ethics, his sanity or anything else that might stick, people might not notice that a pretty reliable source says that President Bushleague sent thousands of troops to their death for a war that wasn't need and was drummed up by fear mongering. Maybe they won't be aware that his flunkies gave up an undercover agent's cover to smear her husband. Maybe the fact that the country is in disarray and divided because of this idiot's arrogance and incompetence will be overlooked. It's all white noise to cover their white lies.
It's a pretty sad commentary on this society. Apparently the truth doesn't matter anymore. It is appalling enough that King George has people out there with the gall to actually defend his actions and degrade those who seek to find accountability. But it is even worse that we've reached a climate where the actual truth doesn't really matter anymore.
It's not surprising. Lying is a way of life these days. People like Marion Jones and Barry Bonds don't come clean until they absolutely have to. For Jones it was immanent jail time for her steroid use that forced the truth out of her. Bonds is still hiding behind lies and his trainer, who also is avoiding telling the truth. So is Roger Clemens. He's become a laughing stock and one thing he apparently hasn't injected himself with is truth serum.
Politicians are probably the worst. Hillary Clinton speaks of dodging sniper fire in Bosnia and says she was tired when she said that. No, she was lying. John McCain states how the troop levels in Iraq have been reduced to pre-surge levels. They haven't been. Mitt Romney talked about his love of hunting and watching his father marching with Rev. Martin Luther King. Romney never saw his father march with King and the only hunting he's ever done is search for new hair gel. Bill Clinton wagged his finger and claimed ... well, you know.
The truth gets twisted and mangled by these people because they know they can get away with it. Much of the advertising on television is devoid of the truth. Maybe they don't outright lie about their products but the truth is certainly stepped upon significantly. And people fall for it.
We've become a society where the truth isn't demanded. We don't hold the lying masses accountable. We're all guilty of shading the truth and often hiding from it. Sometimes the truth is hard to swallow or difficult to acknowledge. It is easier to lie or shade the truth than face facts. Society is more interested in glitz than substance. They're easily distracted than dedicated to doing what is right.
The truth is George W. Bush deserves to be strung up by his cowboy boots and dragged across his Crawford Ranch by Big Brown (Brownie you're doing a heck of a job).
But we know he'll never be held accountable for his actions - other than his miserable poll numbers. Whatever happened to expecting great things from our leaders? Whatever happened to expecting the truth and holding those that avoid it accountable?

The truth has become a casualty in this society. People don't have the moral character to tell it, and others don't care enough to demand it. And that's no lie.