The End of the Line

For the Dodgers' first practice, Jim White and I held court by the old backstop at Sevier Park.  I brought plastic bases.  JP and several other 4 and 5 year olds learned how to run to first base.  Although those boys didn't wear Dodgers jersey until the next season - we were the Red Sox - they marked the beginning of the Dodgers and started a run of WNSL baseball that would last for 12 years.

Yesterday, the curtain fell on the best 12 years of my life, as Joe's Dodgers split a doubleheader abasing the Moonshots on field 5 at Warner Park.  It was fitting, somehow, that ours were the only games begin played at Warner Park yesterday.  The concession stand was closed.  There were no other boys around. The parking lot was relatively empty.  No (cursed) flag football.  Just my guys - the WNSL Dodgers - and the Dom's Moonshots.

When I worked in minor league baseball for a couple of years after college, it occurred to me that nothing was more lonely, more forlorn, than Bill Meyer Stadium on the day after the Knoxville Blue Jays' season ended.  The players were gone.  The managers and coaches were packing up and saying goodbye.  All of the part-time staff from the spring and summer has scattered to the offseason.  The stadium was empty as the early fall wind blew hot dog wrappers through the concourse.  

That's kind of what it felt like, to me, at Warner Park yesterday, likely because I knew it was the end of the line for the Dodgers.  

It was fitting, too, that I coached game 1 - a surprising 14 - 6 win for the Dodgers - with JP.  He was on third and I was on first.  Spending so much time coaching with JP this fall has been beyond special to me.  To be on the baseball field with both of my sons, at the same time, is simply heaven on earth for me.  It really is.   

In game 2, Will Wright and Benton Wright arrived as JP left for the Predators' game.  Fitting, too, that I had one of my all time favorite players, Benton, coaching third base for me while Will ran the dugout and kept score on GameChanger, just as he has for what seems like one thousand games in the past.  

Will is my unsung assistant coaching hero, because he running the dugout is no small task when the boys are young.  It's not easy to keep five and six year old boys - or even nine and 10 year old boys - focused on the game, ready to bat, etc.  It can be a thankless job and Will did it willingly and with so much love for as long as I coached.  In so many conversations outside the dugout over the years, during games, we talked about our boys, our parents, our work, our lives.  I treasure every one of those conversations.  

I'm not going to write too much about the games this morning, as I sit quietly outside Sump and sip my coffee.  

The Moonshots are good boys.  Older than us and a little cocky but that's okay.  It made it all the sweeter when we dough-popped them on game 1, particularly after they scored four runs on us in the bottom of the first inning.  The highlight of the game, by far, was Bennett Lusk pitching a complete game.  After the first inning, he figured out for maybe the first time ever that he didn't have to try to throw the ball by every hitter.  He didn't need to nibble, either, by trying to get strikes on the inside or outside corner.  He could just throw strikes, constantly, and let his fielders get guys out.  

That's exactly what he did, too.  As as result, he pitched a five inning complete game on a day when we were without two of our older, more experienced pitchers.  When Bennett asked me after the game how many pitches he had thrown, I told him "too many."  Still, I wanted him to have an opportunity to pitch a complete game because I thought it would give him confidence heading into the offseason and, later, spring baseball.  

Other than a couple of botched run downs, the boys played flawlessly in the field in game 1.  The outfielders caught several fly balls.  George and Paul hit the cutoff man perfectly a couple of times when balls were in the gap.  At second base, Ram threw a boy out trying to stretch a double into a triple after George hit him with a perfect cutoff throw.  We practice that, so it was gratifying to see the boys execute it in a game.  

George made a nice catch of a fly ball in right field, too, when he took a step back as the ball left the bat, located it, then comfortably took a few more steps back caught the ball over his right shoulder.  Again, first step back in the outfield, find the ball, adjust, catch it.  Just like we teach it.  I loved the play because he looked so comfortable making it.  

There weren't a lot of highlights in game 2 for the Dodgers.  The Moonshots played some of their older players, 14 year olds, and my 11 and 12 year olds weren't much of a match for them.  Their pitcher threw hard and we couldn't do much with him.  

Much to my surprise, Walker Hughey squared to bunt late in the game, having gotten the sign from Benton (coaching third base) because the third baseman was playing so far back.  A lefty, Walker laid down a perfect bunt that snaked down the third base line.  The pitcher make an outstanding play on the ball and threw Walker out by a couple of inches.  With almost any other pitcher, Walker beats that one out.  Just a tremendous effort on Walker's part to lay down a bunt against a pitcher throwing hard. 

The at bat of the day - maybe the season - came late in the game when Trey Glenn fouled off four or five two strike pitches, including a couple of curve balls, then laced a single into left center field.  It was our hardest hit ball of the day and it was against a legitimately good, hard throwing 14 year old pitcher.  I've had Trey as long as I've had any of the boys, since he was five years old, and he's one of my all time favorites, so seeing him have such a great at bat made me very, very proud.  

Trey's personality is infectious.  Always smiling.  Always happy to play baseball.  A great teammate and a great kid.

Game 2 never close and in the end, the Moonshots gonged the boys, and the game was stopped after the fourth inning because they were 10 + runs ahead of us.  Huck struggled with his emotions, at times, but he battled at catcher.  He also stole home on passed balls four times in two games and had no problem sliding, which was real progress for him from the beginning of the season.

Nico struggled and had a few mental lapses, which happens.  He was down after the game so I was glad I was driving him home with Joe and me on the Coach Phil Xpress.  We had some time to talk about the game and how important it is for him to play with confidence and not to be afraid to make a mistake.  

After the end of game 2, I the boys took a knee and gathered around me on the infield grass near first base.  I told them I was proud of them and that in those two games, we had seen a little bit of everything.  I reminded them of the lessons they had learned throughout the fall baseball season, on the practice field and during games.

I reminded them of the importance of competing, of persevering, of working hard, of failing and getting up to try again, of being a good teammate, of never quitting and never giving up.  

The secret, I told them, is it's not about the baseball.  It never had been.  It's about life.  

Dodgers forever.

USN Sixth Grade Soccer

It starting brewing last year, when Joe's fifth grade classmates took over the sixth grade soccer team late in the season and won the HVAC Div. II tournament at Franklin Road Academy.  For maybe the only time in the decade one or both of my boys have a attended University School Nashville, a coach recognized the importance of winning, in terms of morale and school pride, and played the best players.  In other words, they played to win, which is exceedingly rare at USN, at least in middle school sports.

Joe's class of boys - particularly his close friends - is different from others in the past at USN, including JP's.  More athletic.  More competitive.  More intense.  More physical.  More willing to mix it up with other teams.  All of the good things, in my mind.  These boys share traits that will help them succeed in life, long after their days on the athletic fields are over.  That's my guess, anyway.

I expected big things out of them on the soccer filed this fall, as sixth graders, and I haven't been disappointed.  USN is 4 - 0 on the season and, if memory serves, they only have give up two goals.  Joe is playing middle back on defense, rather than goalie, which is good for him and for the team.  It allows him time and space to work on his foot skills and his leadership is readily visible as he sets the defense, encourages his teammates, and moves the ball.  

Tuesday afternoon, in an away game at Ensworth, they dominated the second half and won 4 - 1, clinching a first round bye in the Div. I tournament at the end of the season.  It was a big win for the boys in large part because Ensworth is not a school that USN normally beats, in any sport.  It's refreshing for the boys - and their parents - to play a sport at a high level and defeat schools that place a much high emphasis on athletics.  Competing, and winning, breeds confidence and school pride.  It's contagious.  I saw it last year and I'm seeing it again this year.  

The Ensworth coach yelled at his players after the game, proof positive that he didn't anticipate or like losing to USN.  That made the win all the sweeter.  Then, after a tie in the B team game, he whined about something that happened in the handshake line.  

Joe and his teammates play with a bit of an edge.  They're a bit cocky and that's completely okay.  Not arrogant, mind you, but confident and a little cocky.  They're not going to get pushed around.  For several of these boys - not Joe - soccer is their main sport.  They've played it competitively at the travel level for years.  They've practiced, drilled, and played games all over middle Tennessee.  And it shows, now, as they play for their school.

Last year, it was interesting to hear Joe talk about how much fun it was playing soccer with his closest friends from school, boys he's been on the playground with every school day for the past 5 + years.  At lunch or during breaks, the boys got together and broke down the previous day's game.  He loved that.  Again, it's not often that a group of boys in middle school at USN are able to compete at a high level in a sport and experience success because too often the focus had been on participation, not competition.  

Sadly, because it's USN, it's very likely this group of boys will splinter when sixth grade is over and attend seventh grade at other private schools in the area.  This is what happened with JP's group and it's what will happen with Joe's group.  Why?  Because of a serious of broken promises from the USN administration over several years and a refusal to recognize that competitive sports can coexist at a school with a strong academic reputation.  That's a whole story in an of itself.

For now, though, I'm going to enjoy watching this group of sixth graders from USN compete on the soccer field the rest of the season.  Let's go!!

Sunday with the Dodgers

In the last scheduled game of the season, Joe's Dodgers were scheduled to play the Stars on Sunday afternoon.  A fun way to end the fall baseball season, because it was a beautiful day and Joe played with a few of the Stars' boys and for their coaches a couple of seasons ago.  

Our boys were primed and ready to go, all of them arriving on time for batting practice 45 minutes before game time.  That made me happy because JP and I have emphasized to the boys that it's important for them to take responsibility for asking their parents to leave home with enough time to get to the batting practice so they can be ready to play.  I think our message had taken root, which is nice.

Unfortunately, the Stars only had five players.  When their coach told me what was going on five or 10 minutes before the game, I initially was disappointed.  However, we agreed to give them a couple of players so we could scrimmage.  JP played right field for both teams.  All of our boys got a lot of work in, too, which they needed.  Plus, it was nice to play a laid back game in front of all of our parents to end the season.  

I loaned the Stars Joe and Walker, which worked out well.  Walker was able to play infield, second and third base.  Joe played shortstop the first inning, then pitched three innings.  It was fun to see Joe pitch against his teammates, most of them boys he's played with for many years.  Joe pitched much better than his last outing.  We still need to work on his velocity but he three to contact and struck a couple of batters out.  He hit the ball well, again, and knocked in a run with a nifty two strike single to left field.  

For the Dodgers, I was able to pitch Lucas, Bennett, Huck, and Trey, all of whom needed the work.  Huck and Trey, who don't normally pitch, were excited to have the opportunity.  Lucas struggled with his control - totally normal for a 12 year old learning to pitch on the big field.  Bennett struggled, too, and seemed to be felt emotionally.  He perked up, though, when he pitched to Joe and lined him out to shortstop.  

During the game, I made sure to stop, to breathe, and look around field 5 at Warner Park and, really, just take it all in.  Joe pitching, JP playing right field, all of my guys wearing Dodger blue in the dugout, and all of the parents sitting in the bleachers.  Honestly, youth baseball the way it's meant to be played.  In a recreational league, not traveling to Smyrna to get boat raced by a team of ringers with a giant 12 year old - who looks like he's 15 - throwing seeds to my 11 and 12 year olds.  

There is a place for recreational baseball in youth sports.  An important place.  Sunday's scrimmage was affirmation of something I already knew.

It's hard to capture in words how much it's meant to me be on the baseball field this fall with JP and Joe.

    My guys.

    Joe and George Bell.

George Bell, Joe, and Trey Glenn.

Nico Little and Joe.

The best of days.

Postscript.  One more doubleheader vs. the Moonshots on Saturday.  I hope the weather holds.  I always hope the weather holds. 

There's always more baseball.  Somewhere, somehow, some way.

Metro Championships

Tuesday afternoon at the Metro Cross Country Championships at Vaughn's Gap, JP and his teammates successfully defended their junior varsity and varsity titles.  To be fair, both squads were prohibitive favorites, as the competition from the other middle Tennessee schools simply wasn't very strong.  

My real interest, though, was in the individual race because the faster boys, Jack and JP, were going to pace the other boys in an effort to build a consistently faster pace for the entire team.  The boys were going to run in a pack for the first two miles, then Jack and JP would race the 1.1 miles.  I was very curious about the outcome, as JP has never run a race where he hasn't pushed himself the entire way.  Interesting.

The weather was beautiful, although it was a little hot for the earlier junior varsity races.  

Jack McDaniel won the boys' junior varsity race going away, which was cool to see.  He will almost certainly run varsity next year as a senior.  Jack and JP have been friends since they were three years old and attending Children's House together.  Pike (Jack's brother) and Joe are the same way.  

Jon Meade was there to see JP race, which was nice.  Tracy, Alice, and Jerry came, as well.  Jude's parents were there, too.  Joe missed because he had a soccer game for USN at Grace Christian Academy.

After the race started, Giles Ward and I walked over and set up shop at the one mile mark.  As the leaders approaches, I saw for the first time that Jack Wallace and JP were not running in the lead pack.  Uh oh, I thought, as Thomas A. and a boy from Father Ryan HS streaked by us.  Jack and JP were running comfortably in a pack with the three or four of their MBA teammates and another boy or two.  Their time was 5:15, which is considerably slower than they normally run the first mile of races.  The lead runners were 40 or 50 yards ahead of Jack, JP, and the other MBA runners.

This might be a problem, I thought, particularly because JP was looking forward to racing against Thomas.  He's a friend from the youth group at church and a fantastic runner who is going to run in college.  Great kid.  Still, it's always fun to beat your friends.  They have rarely raced each other due to scheduling conflicts.

On the back side of the course around 1 1/2 miles or so, the pack of runners was still together, although Cecil had fallen a little behind.  Thomas and the Father Ryan HS runner were sill 40 or 50 yards ahead.  I walked over the other side of the course again and waited at the 2 1/4 mile mark.  I was a little discouraged but, as it turns out, I shouldn't have been.  

Suddenly, I saw the leader runners headed down the trail toward me, wearing white singlets, red letter - MBA - emblazoned across the center.  Jack in first place.  JP in second place.  And they were absolutely flying.  Thomas was behind JP by 10 yards or so.  As the boys made the final turn and raced the last 800 meters, Jack and JP pulled away from everyone else.  Jack won and JP finished second in 15:50.

I talked to JP afterwards and he was happy with how the race turned out.  I think it was good for him to race this one a little bit differently as he prepares for the State Championship in a couple of weeks, followed by NXR (Nike Cross Country Regional Championship) in Cary, NC.

I was proud of him and happy that family and friends were able to see him race.  

Dodgers vs. Nolensville

On a beautiful mid-October Saturday afternoon at Warner Park, the Dodgers split their last doubleheader of the fall season.  They lost the game 1, 7 - 14, then rallied to win game 2, 14 - 4.  

As has been the case with this group of boys at times, they didn't come out ready to play in game 1.  I started Joe at pitcher - a mistake in retrospect, as I probably should have gone with Keaton - and Nolensville jumped on us quickly with six runs.  Joe didn't make it out of the inning.  He didn't have any control, as he continued to short arm the ball, something he hadn't done in the past.  As a result, especially from the longer distance, he doesn't have any pop on his fastball.  He's had the same problem making throws from shortstop, as well.  It's like he doesn't fully bend his right arm as he makes the throw, so there is not whip action to his arm.  The result is a pitch, or throw, with little on it.  It's something we have to address this winter.  

More concerning, though, was the fact that Joe wasn't ready emotionally and didn't react well when his teammates - Nico at third base, in particular - made multiple errors.  His frustration was palpable and, of course, losing control of your emotions is not something you can do as a pitcher.  JP told him as much when he visited the mound when things began to unravel.  I pulled him a couple of batters when he continued to vocally express his frustration.  It's all part of it, though, and I love his competitiveness.  He wants so badly to do well that he gets upset when things don't go the way he hopes.  It's something we'll work on and, as always, I'd rather have a kid who cares versus one who doesn't.  

On the bright side, Joe's hitting was much improved, as he really swung Bennet's new bat very well.  He had a single to left field in game 1.  In game 2, he knocked in a run with a single to left field in the first inning.  Later, after walking in his second at bat, he absolutely smoked a line drive down the line into left field - the hardest hit ball of game 2 - and plated two more runs.  It was the best he has hit all season.  I've got to get him a new bat, I think.  

A couple of interesting notes from the first game.  Elias pitched well.  Nice, fluid pitching motion.  Good control.  He can pitch, I think, but he's got to decide if he wants to and, really, if wants to play baseball in general. 

The highlight for me, though, was pitching Huck in the last inning.  My affection for him is well noted in this space, because he's so genuine, enthusiastic, appreciative, and competitive.  I'm proud of how hard he has worked to get some control over his emotions because he tends to get down on himself when he makes a mistake.  Our work on that the last couple of years is starting to pay dividends, I think.  At any rate, I brought him in to pitch in the last inning at Coach Benton's suggestion.  

After Coach Cyrus warmed him up while we were batting, Huck took the mound and threw nothing but BB's.  It was reminiscent of the night - last fall, maybe - when I pitched Big Mike and he was a revelation on the smaller field because he threw so hard.  Huck's control wasn't great but he threw really, really hard.  He was so funny to watch, as he took a giant deep breath before every pitch and, at time, quickly made the sign of the Cross in between pitches (no, he's not Catholic, but he's seen big league players do it in the batter's box, so he does it, too).  I was so proud of Huck.  It was a memorable outing for him, the first time he has pitched for me in a game.

Game 2 was much better that game 1.  Harper got there for game 2 and, in the first inning, threw a runner out on a routine grounder to third base.  He made the play that Nico couldn't make in game 1 and that set the tone for us in what was a much better played game defensively for the Dodgers.  Keaton pitched relatively well as the starter, although he ran out of gas sooner that I would have liked.  Harper took the mound and finished the game off, as we gonged (14 - 4) a Nolensville team that wasn't any worse than the Nolensville team we played in game 1.

It's only natural, I guess, but I find myself wishing like hell I had one more year with these boys.  If only, you know?  If only they were 11 and not 12.  

If only I had another year, two baseball seasons (fall and spring), to work with Huck on pitching, and on throwing and catching more consistently.  

If only I had another year to try to reach Nico, to access that part of his brain that will keep him focused and locked in.  

If only I had another year to spend with Bennett, to marvel at his grasp of the nuances of a baseball game in a manner unlike any boy I've ever coached. 

If only I had another year with Walker, to replace the years he missed on our team when he played for a coach who didn't develop him or, more importantly, his love of baseball.  Walker can play baseball - as evidenced by the fly ball he caught in center field in game 2.  He just doesn't know it.  I need another year to see him grow bigger and strong, and hit the ball more consistently.

If only I had another year with Paul, to help him gain confidence in himself while he improves on the baseball field. 

If only I had another year with Trey because, well, Trey is one of my favorite boys I ever have coached.  Always smiling, always game, smart baseball mind and can play anywhere.  He sent me a card when my mother died.  I will never forget that. 

If only I had another year with Ram, whom I've coached since he was four or five years old.  I need another year to find a way to teach him to hit with power and to watch his pitching continue to improve.  So smart.  He'll be a surgeon some day and a concert level guitarist because there is nothing he cannot do.  He'll be a winner in life.  

If only I had one more year with Joe, to spend with him on the baseball field.  My time coaching him has meant the world to me.  Words can't express how proud I am of him and how much I have loved every minute I've spent with him on a baseball field.  

One more game on Sunday and that's a wrap for the Dodgers.  

 

The Last Days of the Dodgers

On other occasions in the past, I've written about the last days of the Dodgers.  Every time, though, in a fortunate stroke of serendipity, I end up with one more baseball season, spring or fall, to coach a team.  And, of course, I call the team the Dodgers.  

Almost certainly, though, this fall is the end of the line for the Dodgers.  Although I coached JP's Dodgers through the fall after all of the boys turned 13, I don't see that happening with Joe's group.  I don't want to say JP's Dodgers (and parents) were more committed but I do think those boys had less going on across the board than Joe's Dodgers.  Honestly, though, as I think about it now, I can recall having to scramble to get players for JP's last team, just not as much as I've had to with Joe's baseball team this fall.

Several of Joe's teammates are also playing travel baseball, so there are conflicts with fall travel baseball tournaments.  JP's group didn't have any boys playing travel baseball, right or wrong.  Joe plays club soccer.  I have a boy who has missed baseball games to play flag football, which absolutely kills me.  I have had boys miss games for birthday parties, camping trips, and a bar mitzvah.  I've had a boy with Covid-19 and another with foot problems.  I had a boy injure his ankle at school when he fell on a set of stairs allegedly because his backpack was too heavy.

I didn't have those type of attendance problems with JP's Dodgers, as least as I recall those times three and four years ago.  Understand, I am not saying it's better or worse with Joe's Dodgers, just different.  And you know what?  That's okay.  It's a different group of boys and parents, obviously, but just as with JP's Dodgers, I have a nucleus of boys that I've coached since they were four and five years old.  

Joe, Ram, Nico, Trey, George, Elias, and Bennett.  I have Walker, who left the Dodgers early on - that was a mistake - and returned to us the last year or so.  I have Huck, one of my all time favorites, who left the Diamondbacks to play for me.  I have newer players I've imported from Joe's time with the Braves - Harper, Paul, Keaton, Lucas, and Daniel.  I'd ride with this group in a double header any Saturday, fall or spring.  

Seven of these boys are committed to travel baseball for the 2024 - 2025 season, so it's highly unlikely they will play together as a group after our final game this Sunday.  Which, of course, marks Sunday as the end of the line for the Dodgers.  

All of this makes me incredibly sad, yes, but incredibly grateful, too, for the opportunity to positively impact so many boys and families - through baseball - over the past 12 years.  Every boy (or girl) I have ever coached, even if it was only for one or two seasons, changed my life in some small way or left me with at least one memory I will carry with me until I die.  My life has been enriched immeasurably by the boys who have put on a Dodgers' jersey and practiced or played for me.  

So much of my non-work life has revolved around coaching the Dodgers, first JP and his teammates, then Joe's, as well.  At times, I had two groups of Dodgers, of course, JP's Dodgers and Joe's Junior Dodgers.  Those were heady days, for sure, and scheduling wasn't always easy, but I loved every minute of it, rushing from one game to the next.  I've also had years where I coached expanded rosters - enough to have two teams in the same age group - also a challenge but one I relished, for sure.  

This fall baseball season has been disjointed, at best, with more practice time than actual games.  It's an abbreviated baseball season in the fall, anyway, and we lost three games to rainouts and four games to forfeits.  One of the doubleheader forfeits was our team, which is not something I recall ever happening with a group I coached.  

One of the most rewarding things about this fall baseball season has been watching several of JP's Dodgers - JP, Benton, Wes, Cyrus, and JK - coach Joe's Dodgers, at practices and games.  I've given the big boys more and more responsibility, having them coach first and third base, visit the pitchers on the mound during games, and address the team before and after games.  Yesterday, JP handled the meeting between coaches and umpires before the second game of our doubleheader, which was really cool.

Joe's Dodgers have really responded, I think, to being coached by older boys actually playing high school baseball, just like I had hoped they would.  It's been good for the big boys, too, as they have had the opportunity to spend time together, again, and reconnect while giving of their time and energy in a way that really matters.  It's just been really special.

For me, too, spending time on a baseball field, coaching with JP while Joe is playing has been, well, tremendous.  It's something I will never, ever forget.  

I'll write about yesterday's games later because, for now, I want to see the bigger picture and appreciate the gift that coaching youth baseball has been to me.  

Dodgers forever.

They Paved Paradise and Put Up a Parking Lot

They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.

    - Counting Crows

I've put off writing about this because it hurts.

Portland Brew, the one true neighborhood coffee shop in my life, closed in early August after an all day party with music, art, laughter, tears, hugs, former baristas, and regular customers all together one last time on a late summer Saturday.  

It was beautiful to see such community among so many varied and distinct people, all of whom shared a love for Portland Brew.  In the end, that's what Portland Brew was about.  Community.  This was evident in the messages on the many yellow post-it notes stuck on the wall, left there by customers who stopped by to say goodbye to a place they loved.  A place of refuge in a busy, stressful world, where you could could count on a smile and a greeting from a familiar face, and a good cup of coffee.  

To me, what Bongo Java was, once upon a time, Portland Brew became.  A fixture in my life.  A place I could stop in on the way to work or on the way home after work and almost always see someone I knew.  For the longest time, the baristas were old heads, just like in the Bongo Java days.  Even thought that changes a bit the last couple of years, the newer, younger baristas were kind, friendly, upbeat, and interesting.  

When I walked into Portland Brew, I felt like I was home.  That's probably the absolute best thing I can say about a coffee shop or a bar.  And, I think, that's why it's so hard to say goodbye.  It's like losing an old friend, especially for someone who is as nostalgic as I am.  Bongo Java marked a time in my life, a simple time when the boys were young and I walked them through the neighborhood every weekend.  Portland Brew marked a different, more complicated time in my life, when the boys were older and in school, the stresses of work increased, and I lost my mom after a long fight with Alzheimer's disease.  

Portland Brew was a safe harbor for me, a place where I could stop in on the way to work and collect myself.  Plan my day.  Read the New York Times or the New Yorker online, write in this blog, answer e-mails, or get ahead of the day's work.  All with a good cup of coffee and scrambled eggs w/avocado, my go to breakfast there.

What was really cool, though, is the Portland Brew had the most loyal crew of regulars of any coffee shop I have ever frequented.  More, even, then Bongo Java in the old days.  Stuart, Michael, Rob, and so many other others, many of whom I did not know by name.  And, of course, Dennis, the mayor of Portland Brew.  

Originally, I met Dennis at Honest Coffee Roasters in the Factory in Franklin, where we often chatted about sports, kids, and life.  I was delighted, of course, when I walked into Portland Brew one morning a couple of years ago and saw Dennis, decked out as always in Detroit sports gear (Tigers, Lions, Michigan, Pistons, etc.).  He had moved to the neighborhood and, soon enough, he was holding court at Portland Brew every single morning.  It was a sight to see, as person after person sat down for a minute or two every morning to say hello to Dennis.  He radiates goodness and optimism.  His presence at Portland Brew the last couple of years and the light he shined on so many regulars is something I will always remember.

Portland Brew stayed open during the pandemic, unlike most other local coffee shops and restaurants.  In the spring and summer of 2020 when we were all so scared, anxious, and confused, I was able to stop by Portland Brew and get a to go cup of coffee.  That shred of normalcy kept me going and gave me hope that somehow, someday, the pandemic would end and I could gather again in a group with friends and strangers and have a cup of coffee.  

I vividly remember a morning when our office was closed - hell, everything was closed - and I drove to Portland Brew, got coffee, then drove down 12th Avenue and sat in the chairs outside Burger Up with Hal.  We socially distanced as we shared a cup of coffee and conversation, uncertain of what the future held for any of us.  It was powerful, intimate, and memorable.  Portland Brew made moments like that possible during the pandemic and for that reason and others, I remained a loyal customer after the pandemic finally ended.  

I ended a thousand afternoon weekend runs at Portland Brew, or so it seems, got a coffee, and walked home.  Every runs end with coffee, I used to joke.  

On almost every snow day, Portland Brew was open.  Neighborhood folks stopped in on the way to and from a day of sledding in Sevier Park to grab a coffee or hot chocolate for the kids.  That's what Portland Brew was about, really.  Neighborhood.  Community.  The tourists the bachelorettes went to Frothy Monkey.  The neighborhood people went to Portland Brew.  

Ironically enough, one Saturday or Sunday afternoon last spring, I walked into Portland Brew slightly past 4 p.m., less than an hour before closing.  I sat by myself, looked around, listened to the baristas talking about their plans for the night, and took a few minutes to appreciate how Portland Brew was one of the only places in the neighborhood that was still "old 12South."  So much else had changed and was changing in 12South but not Portland Brew.  I even wrote a post about it as I sat there.

Well, a few months later, Charles Treadway sold all of us out and agreed to lease the property to, of course, another women's clothing boutique.  Greed kills, forever and always.  

Now, the Portland Brew sign on the outside of the building is gone.  The tables on the front porch are gone, too.  What is there, though, is a sign that informs people how to pay to park in the Portland Brew parking lot, while they go shopping or eat at a 12South restaurant.  

Quite literally, they paved paradise and put up a parking lot.