Letter From the Editor

Dear readers,

Due to the demands of writing a book and writing for another blog on WordPress.com as well as working and also returning to school, I will be retiring from this blog effective immediately.

It has without a shadow of doubt, been a wonderful journey writing in this blog about various topics that enter my head when I’m Downtown at the Bon-Ton Cafe eating a cheeseburger or playing basketball down at the Hollywood Community Center over the course of the last two years. I can’t say enough how many of my friends, mostly female, enjoyed reading a column that had a focus on them to make them smile.

The blog will still be up and running as a “Best of Doc Hancock and Friends” blog, where you can read everything about Playboy Bunnies, belly rubs, sprungness theories, and all of the other things that made up my life from August of last year to July of this year.

But again, for those of you who read this blog over the last two years, thank you once again for stopping by.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Dr. R.E. Hancock

July 23, 2007

It’s your problem, not mine

A week ago, I wrote a flashback column on a friend of a friend in this very blog that to me, was no big deal.

But after speaking with my friend on last night about the column that I wrote on last Monday, it seems as though as his friend is on a cloud that isn’t on the one of the nine clouds that you normally hear about.

“You’ve created a mess,” my friend said to me about the column on Dr. Joye, “She’s got the big head now.”

Okay, I admit, writing a column about a female friend is very different from writing about college sports.

When you write about college sports, it’s a very different because people have various opinions and you don’t have to worry about people having the big head.

But write a column on a female friend, they become enamored and ecstatic about being a focus of a column that is read by hundreds each day.

I told my friend, “This isn’t the Commercial Appeal, man. She ought to understand that this is only a daily weblog, not a newspaper.”

“Well, she already understands that,” he told me in our conversation on last night.

“Good,” I said to my friend, “There’s a big difference between writing for a newspaper and writing for yourself.”

I remembered one column I had to write on the hottest of the hot a week before Valentine’s and Dr. Joye explained to me that she wanted the column to have a focus on her.

A week after she made a theory on being sprung on that girl I met in the campus bookstore.

Of course at the time, the blog I had was not as well read as this one, I don’t think.

Thanks a lot, Blogger.

Bittersweet way of things, but still happy otherwise

In looking back at the year that it was, today’s midday post will look back at number 66 on the year-end countdown.

Ever remember what it was like when you made your first basket in a basketball game or hit your first home run in a baseball game?

You look around among a sea of people that are cheering for you as you run around the bases or after a game in a small gym, celebrating your performance.

Then you look up and try to see one person, one person that had a hand in helping you reach your peak in a certain area.

And they’re not there.

That was the case when on three different occasions, I tried to invite my big sister Krystal to come to a game and meet the chocolate cutie down at the corner of South Third and Union Avenue.

For much of the summer, she gave me a lot of advice on dealing with what is now known as the greatest summer love story in the history of Memphis professional baseball.

The first time that I tried to invite my big sister to the ballpark was  the night of the most romantic radio moment in the history of Memphis professional baseball when the chocolate cutie and I shared the microphone for a half-inning on July 4th.

Two hours prior to that, there was some miscommunication problems that led me to celebrate the Fourth with the chocolate cutie without the one person that actually helped a great deal as far as my summer fling with the chocolate cutie was concerned.

The next time that there would be a chance to introduce the chocolate cutie to my big sister was when the Redbirds would face the Round Rock Express on July 20th, sixteen days after the “Doc and Miss Candy Show”, the same night of “The Spook”.

And much like the Fourth, another miscommunication problem came up, this time being my fault.

Two days later, I received an email from her which had the line, “You’re a joy to my heart.”

The third and final time that I tried to do it was when the Redbirds faced the Iowa Cubs on August 11th, when it seemed like my big sister would finally meet the chocolate cutie and the rest of the characters that you read in this column.

Then it happened.

Her friend’s boyfriend straight-up punched her friend in the eye and adding another chapter to the bittersweetness of the summer.

The next day, I wrote a letter to her explaining my feelings about the barriers that kept her from meeting the chocolate cutie and everything else about the summer that it was.

I said, “If you hadn’t gave me the advice on the chocolate cutie, I don’t think this whole thing would have happened.”

And it would have never happened.

Wouldn’t it be something if that did happen?

One of my plans in the coming weeks is to attend the game between the Tigers and Middle Tennessee at the FedEx Forum and write about my observations from the game in this blog.

Okay, a game between the Tigers and the Blue Raiders is not something that you would want to drop everything and go see, but if you were me, you would probably understand.

I brought up the recent sightings of the Mr. Goodbar candy wrappers in the neighborhood that I live in to a lady at my job a few weeks ago and wondered why would I continue to make note of the numerous Mr. Goodbar candy wrapper sightings every time I see one.

As I think about it, the lady I told this to was the same one who I told the story of the chocolate cutie coming up into the broadcast booth on July 4th, one of the cutest moments in the history of Memphis professional baseball.

“Did you ever get her number?” she asked me.

“No,” I replied, “The last time I talked to her, she was talking to somebody else.”

That was in August, a week before I found out that she did at some point had a crush on me, which was told to me on the final “Two Girls and a Doc Show” on August 27th.

And the same day in which Michelle said to me, “You two will probably be the hottest couple of 2007.”

Back to the story, the lady at my job told me that I should go to a Tigers basketball game and try to find her

Wait a minute, go to a game because of some girl?

I mean, how ludicrous is that?

During the summer, it was fine when it was 12,000 fans or so in a ballpark and all of us in the Ballpark Gang was sweating our asses off.

But four months later, trying again to get a girl that I supposedly liked a whole lot’s number, possibly two days before Christmas, in a building that will have more blue-clad Tiger fans other than me watching the Tigers notch another victory over some poor and wretched team from the backroads of Middle Tennessee, would be something that would defeat my purpose of writing about a basketball game.

The last time I tried something like that, it ended up being one of the reasons why I can’t stand some of the people in the church that I attend now, though I won’t go into detail of what happened.

But given what has happened so much during the course of the this year, maybe the entire readership of this column want to see one more rendezvous between a writer and a chocolate cutie before the year is out.

Just maybe.

I don’t know.

I don’t hate Louisville anymore

With Rutgers’ loss to West Virginia, the Louisville Cardinals will head to their first BCS bowl in school history by virtue of a tiebreaker (the Cardinals beat West Virginia and Rutgers lost to West Virginia a few minutes ago in a classic thriller in Morgantown).

In addition to the Cardinals, the Oklahoma Sooners will punch their tickets to the BCS by winning the Big 12 championship over Nebraska this evening.

So start the debating of who will face the Ohio State Buckeyes in Glendale.

Meanwhile in Morgantown………….

I once had an interest in going to West Virginia University when I was a junior in high school, one could imagine how my life would have been.

The game between Rutgers and West Virginia has gone into the third overtime, with the score knotted at 33.

UPDATE 10:21 pm.-Brandon Myles just scored a touchdown on a pass from Jarrett Brown to give the Mountaineers a 39-33 lead.

10:23 p.m.-Play was under review and touchdown still stand. They just added a two-point conversion to make it 41-33 West Virginia

Gators are ready to prove their case

Florida delivered the program’s first SEC championship since the end of the Steve Spurrier era by defeating the Arkansas Razorbacks 38 to 28 in Atlanta.

With that being said, it’s no telling how the BCS will play out tomorrow.

Adios, USC

The Bruins for the first time in Karl Dorrell’s tenure at UCLA dashed Southern Cal’s hopes for a national championship by beating the Trojans 13-9 in Pasadena.

With the loss, the Trojans will more than likely play in the Rose Bowl and face LSU possibly on New Year’s Day.

I feel bad for those pollsters.

The origin of the “Holy War”

In looking back at 2006, this afternoon’s post will look back the whole rivalry between the Memphis Church and Da Crew, number 67 on the year-end countdown.

I had began attending church out in Cordova at the beginning part of the year, this coming after leaving a church but not attending services the year before.

Little did I know that the group of people that I associated with at the church would turn into a holy-roller version of Da Crew.

To some in Da Crew, they view the Bible Thumpers (that was the nickname that we gave to them) as emigrated snobs who would only last a hot second in South Memphis.

And the Bible Thumpers viewed us as a bunch of cocky and arrogant people who couldn’t keep their mouths closed.

Which was usually reserved for me, because I went into their church and dissed everyone from the janitor who cleans up to the church leader when I first got there.

When we tried to play them in basketball, I figured that there was going to be some excuse that they would chicken out if we moved forward with the game that we brokered with them.

So to solve that, I ended up writing up a contract in order to guarantee the game and making sure that all parties would understand the legal implications of the game.

Which was done at a press conference that was caught on tape with the help of my video camera in the campus cafeteria.

The contract for the most part was signed by both myself and Dr. Chris on January 24th, the same day that we were supposed to have a Bible study out in Hickory Hill.

Later that day, one of the people that we were going to face in the “Holy War” saw the contract that was done earlier in the day and signed by both myself and Dr. Chris at school.

Much to the chagrin of the people at the church, they saw this contract and started the seeds of the rivalry that started between Da Crew and the Bible Thumpers.

On Feb. 10th, the “Holy War” got intense when one of them decided to use my phone as a way to diss everyone and everything in Da Crew, this during one of the worst snowstorms in the history of the city.

Five days later, on Feb. 15th, there was going to be a Meeting of the Minds (read:the introduction of the two factions on campus).

That’s when one of them decided to hide in the Office Depot parking lot, which angered the members of Da Crew.

Especially when one of them said that they didn’t have time to play with little children, which was heard by some in Da Crew.

Well, who’s the little one now?

Mr. Buck, please forgive Angie

In looking back at 2006 and the year it was, today’s early post will look back at number 68 on the countdown of the 100 things, people, sayings, moments, and trends that made 2006 a year to remember.

In Cardinal Nation, one thing is a very known fact.

The women of the Nation are 80% versed on the basics of St. Louis Cardinals history.

They know that Harry Caray was once announcer for the Cardinals from the mid-1940’s to 1969, fifteen years before I was born.

They know who Jack Buck is, who Ozzie Smith is, what “Whiteyball” means, the reason why Willie McGhee’s number should be retired, and most importantly, who Jack Buck is.

Emphasis on that final point.

Before the season started, I ended up purchasing a book in the Backstop Baseball Emporium aptly called Remembering Jack Buck, which was a collection of stories about Mr. Buck and his career.

Given the fact that I normally got bored after doing everything that I had to do at my job, I figured three weeks after buying the book, I would pack the book in my backpack as I went to my classes for the day and read it during my down time at school or even at work.

One of those days that I brought the book with me to school to read was when I tried to explain to Angie who Joe Buck was.

“He’s Jack Buck’s son,” I said to her as I handed her the book.

Now mind you, the book on Jack Buck had some wonderful pictures of Jack Buck and his family and knowing that Angie was an Early Childhood Development major, I figured she would be able to identify who Joe Buck was.

“He was married twice,” I said to her, “He had six children from his first marriage and two from his second marriage.”

She looked at a picture that was taken in 1966 with Mr. Buck and his children and tried to point out which one was Joe.

“Joe wasn’t born until 1969,” I said, “You’ll have to look for a much current picture of Mr. Buck and his family.”

We turned to a picture that was taken three years before his death at his 75th birthday party with all of his children (including Joe).

“That’s Joe,” she said pointing to a guy that was third in the row below the one with Joe Buck.

“No it’s not,” I said to Angela as I tried desparately to explain who Joe Buck was.

“Okay, these were from his first marriage,” she said as she pointed to several of Jack Buck’s children.

She got to Joe and said to me, “First marriage.”

“No,” I said, “Second marriage. He was born in 1969.”

After five minutes of irrevelant arguing, I figured that God could forgive Angela for not getting the children of Jack Buck correct.

I kinda figured Jack Buck saying to God, “Father forgive her, for she’s not a Cardinals fan like this young man is.”

And God said, “I will by sending her a Scott Rolen jersey.”