Another One Bites the Dust

Late in the week, word leaked out on social media that 12South Taproom was closing the end May after a 20 year run.

I mean, damn.  One of the last OG's in 12South, soon to be gone in puff of smoke after some heartless developer razes the building and erects an ugly building housing 12 condominiums or apartments in its place.  The 12South I knew and fell in love with ceased a long time ago but at least there were remnants - Portland Brew and the Taproom - that were reminders of what the neighborhood was like before tourists and bridesmaids took it over.  No more.

When the Taproom originally opened on June 6, 2006, owner Will Stuff was married to Christy Shuff.  She owned and operated Rumor's Wine Bar, which was a couple of doors down the Taproom.  They later divorced, Rumor's relocated to the Gulch (due, of course, to the construction of an early residential/retail development), then quite closed a few years later.  

Originally, the Taproom was a gourmet market with a small bar that served craft beers and filled customers' growlers.  (Growlers!  That's actually was a thing back in the day.). There was a hand-painted, blue sign outside on the front of the building - 12South Taproom - and picnic tables on the front patio.  In later years, Will renovated and covered the front patio and hosted trivia and live music there every week.

The Taproom found its footing when it pivoted away from the gourmet market concept, expanded the kitchen, and began serving food.  The menu always was eclectic - burritos, sandwiches, and entrees - and craft beer selection was the best in town in the heyday of the craft beer renaissance.  

After JP was born in 2008, on weekend afternoons I often strolled him up from our old house on Elliott Avenue to the taproom.  While he slept contentedly in the City Elite stroller, I read the New Yorker, worked the crossword puzzle, or talked to the bartender, Sweeney.  He was the son of a lawyer and former judge I knew in passing, and once hit two or three home runs off me at East Park, playing for his dad's law firm softball team.

Things were so different then.  As I recall, the Taproom had followed the lead of many other restaurants and stopped allowing smoking, inside or out.  There was a mild backlash, I think, as the smokers stayed away.  Those Saturday and Sunday afternoons in the Taproom with JP were quiet, peaceful, and memorable, especially when he woke up and I gave him his milk and snack.  

For a while, I arranged for special guests to meet me there while JP napped.  Matteson drove up from Franklin one Saturday afternoon.  Another time, Rip Pewett drove over and had a beer or two with me while JP napped.  Those were the days, for sure.  I remember trying to convince Jude that JP and I had been to get ice cream after his nap, which worked until she saw a photo of him sitting on the bar with the beer taps behind him.

Side note:  Right on time, two women from a bachelorette party just strolled in for coffee at 8th and Roast.

The Taproom was a place where business meetings happened at lunch, couples on first dates when to dinner, parents took kids for a family dinner, and youth baseball or soccer teams had after game get togethers.  Just last year, I took my law league softball team there for beers after the end of season tournament.  

Over the years, our family got takeout from the Taproom a thousand teams.  The Salmon BLT, and early favorite of mine, became one of JP's go to meal, too.  We always ordered the hummus and pita, too.

The Taproom was (I am already speaking of it in the past tense) a neighborhood anchor for 12South, a reminder of what the neighborhood used to be like before it became crowded with weekend tourists shopping in high end boutique clothing stores.  No more.

Because I've not drank beer much at all the past several years, the Taproom hasn't been a regular stop for me, not like it was in the early years.  Still, it was comforting knowing it was there and we've always enjoyed the food.  

I'm going to get by the Taproom, maybe as soon as this weekend, and get a beer for old times sake.  

The Spring of My Discontent

Sometimes, when I don't write as often, I think it's because I'm unhappy or discontented.  Other times, it's because I'm busy.  Or, maybe, I'm taking the wonder of life for granted.  I guess it could be some combination of all three.

Although I've run at least three miles or walked at least 30 minutes or more almost every day this month, I've had a difficult time getting any traction with my running this year.  I had planned to run long more often or, at least, to run more mileage.  Rather, I've found myself running three miles on most days that I run with a longer run on fairly rare occasions at Shelby Bottoms.  Twice I've bonked while trying to run my 5-mile loop around Elmington Park and back.  My mile pace has been good during my runs but the distance hasn't been there.  Maybe I'm getting old.

As I've written before, it's been a bit of lost spring athletic season for the boys.  JP's injury has slowed him down, literally, on the track.  After missing the early track meets, he's been slower than he wanted or expected in the 800 and 1,600 at the meets in which he has run.  Fortunately, he's been running pain-free, which is what we want.  As his mileage has picked up, I think he's feeling more comfortable running.  Hopefully, his times will pick up a bit at the MBA Senior Day track meet this afternoon and at the Regional Meet next week.  I would love for him to qualify individually for an event or two at the State Meet but I think that's going to be a tall task for him.

Joe's school baseball season was, well, meh.  He wasn't able to get any significant playing time on the infield.  He began batting higher in the order late in the season, as he began hitting better.  Maybe he can carry that over to the travel baseball season.  Joe pitched a couple of games and did relatively well, although I'd like him to throw harder.  Still, no windup or curve ball.  I'm going to try to get him with a good hitting/pitching coach as school winds down.

Basketball has been a mixed bag, too.  Last Sunday, for example, the Stars Gold played at Lebanon High School.  Joe's squad rallied late, as they tend to do, but lost a close game to Chapel Hill.  The Bucket Squad closed the game, as Joe, Cole ("Zeebo"), and Pike played most of the last 10 minutes of the game.  Joe hit a big 3-pointer late but missed the front end of a 1-and-1, which hurt.  I was surprised, as was he, because he's been knocking down free throws as of late.  

Joe doesn't move particularly well laterally, so he's had a tough time staying in front of the man he guards, at times.  His ball handling limitations have been apparent, too, as his team has begun to play against quicker and more athletic players.  He can correct that somewhat, I think, if he works at it.  His 3-point shot is still inconsistent, although he can improve there, too.  He needs to become a knockdown 3-point shooter if he's going to continue to play in the coming years.  

Work is, well, work.  Draining.  Busy as hell with clients and office stuff.  On the one hand, my practice is thriving.  Happy clients for the most part.  Good reviews.  New clients coming in and I'm able to be selective, as I refer cases out I don't want to handle for one reason or another.  On the other hand, it's a lot.  That's just the nature of the beast.

Speaking of work, time to get going.

The Sports Machine

Friday, JP ran in the Metro Championships at Harpeth Hall.  

The 1,600 was his first event.  For almost the entirety of the race, JP ran toward the back of the lead pack in sixth place.  He finished in 14:23, a PR for the 1,600.

In a stirring finish, JP's teammate and friend, Gabe, ran down the leader, Ryder Ortner, and won the 1,600 by .100 of a second.  He finished in 4:15:73, also a PR for the 1,600.  Running in fourth place, he passed the third and second place runners in the last 150 meters, caught Ryder, and beat him win a lean at the finish line.

Less than 30 minutes later, JP ran the 800.  He held his pace longer than he had been able to the last couple of races, but fell in the last 100 meters.  Still, he ran a 2:00:13, barely missing breaking 2:00.  I though he finished just under 2:00 but apparently not.  My guess is he was looking at a 1:58 before he faded at the end.

As JP regain his running fitness after being injured, what's missing, I think, is the finishing kick.  He doesn't have the ability - not quite yet - to out kick other runners at the end of the 1,600 or the 800.  In the 1,600, that meant he ran in sixth place, stayed in sixth place, and finished in sixth place.  In the 800, that meant he fell off at the end, was passed by a couple of runners, and didn't break 2:00.

Here's the thing, though.  For him to be able to set a PR in the 1,600 and run, basically, a 2:00 800 with as little running as he has been able to do until very recently is impressive.  While he has been cross-training religiously on the elliptical, stationary bike, and with weights, the only way to get faster at running is to run and run a lot.  He doesn't have the mileage base right now to slip it into 5th gear when he needs to during a race.  I think it's coming, though, and when it does, he's going to be a problem for other runners to deal with.

Saturday morning, Joe played two basketball games with his Stars' team at Maplewood High School.  Both were close losses, the second game in sudden death, double overtime.

In game one in the main gym, the Stars fell behind, early, in what looked like was going to be a blowout to a bigger and more athletic team.  However, in what is becoming this team's hallmark, they rallied in the second half, tied the score, and lost a close one.  Joe played a lot and well down the stretch, going 4-5 from the line and hitting a key 3-pointer.  He just missed another 3-pointer late that would have given him double figure points for the game.

In game 2 in the practice gym upstairs, the Stars again fell behind early but rallied late.  Losing a game in sudden death double overtime is brutal.  This one hurt Joe more than others because he didn't play particular well down the stretch.  

Late in the game, he foolishly fouled a kid from behind on a put back after a rebound, resulting in a 3-point play that tied the game.  Then, in overtime, when the Stars had the ball under their own goal with 7 seconds left, Joe caught the inbounds pass at the top of the key and clearly shuffled his feet before passing the ball to the wing.  Travel.  That one really hurt, as his team had the ball with a chance to win it.

In the second overtime, Joe brought the ball up the course after the Stars won the tip.  At the top of the key, Joe walked into a 3-pointer that he missed badly.  The other team rebounded the ball, drove up court, set up the offense, then scored the winning bucket when a kid drove the lane, jump stopped, and hit the bucket.

A great game was marred when the other team's best player suffered what appeared to be a torn ACL on a drive into the lane in the second half.  It was hard to watch, as he writhed in pain on the floor.  Tough kid. almost Amish looking with long hair tied up behind his head.  A guard, Joe and his teammates couldn't stay in front of him.  I don't think the game would have ended up in over time had he not gotten hurt. 

While Joe's 3-pointer in the second overtime was ill advised given that his team had a decided size advantage, I give him credit for having the courage to take the shot with the game on the line.  That's Joe.  

Yesterday, Joe played a lot of minutes.  He played hard, made most of the right plays, and only had one turnover that I can recall.  He hit key free throws in game one.  That's Joe, too.  

I'll be curious to see how much he plays today in his game at Glencliff. 

A busy weekend of sports.  

A Final Goodbye to the Dodgers

Most of my Dodgers are seniors this year and counting down the days to graduation.  It's unbelievable.  

How did those boys - my boys - grow up so fast?  

Yesterday, or so it seems, I was playing "giant pepper" with them on field 3 at Warner Park before an 11 - 12 year old baseball game, calling them by their nicknames I made up as they laughed uproariously.  The Mongoose (Jonathan Kleinstick).  The Big Cat (Wes Taylor).  The Helpless Gazelle (Aidan Poff).

Now, several of them are playing their final high school baseball season.  I've been determined to get out to see each of them play one more time.  It's tough with my work schedule and the boys' sports' schedules but I'm determined to make it happen.

Monday, Hume Fogg played USN at Vanderbilt, which was really cool.  Apparently, Vanderbilt allows Hume Fogg to play one baseball game a season there.  It means a lot to the boys, I know, to have an opportunity to play a high school baseball game at Hawkins Field.  It's special.

Jonathan Kleinstick, whom I began calling "JK" early on, plays centerfield for Hume Fogg.  JK was a Dodger almost from the beginning.  He was one of my core guys for almost a decade, from age 5 to 13 or 14, along with JP, Wes Taylor, Benton Wright, and Porter Weeks.  

JK's dad, Randy Kleinstick, was my first base coach for all those years.  We coached together in ballparks all over middle Tennessee in spring, summer, and fall.  Randy became a dear friend of mine and, to this day, he still is.  Recently, he retired from Nissan after a career spent working there.  

JK was the Dodgers' leadoff hitter, always and forever.  He and Randy worked and worked and worked, often times together at Green Hills Park and, later, in the batting cage at JT Moore Middle School.  JK turned himself into an excellent outfielder and a good hitter.  He's always been my fastest players.  

In the perfect Dodgers' lineup, batted JK first and JP second.  I called the "the daily double," with a tip of the cap to Cubs' Hall of Fame broadcaster, Harry Caray.  In the early 1980's, he called Bobby Dernier and Ryne Sandberg "the daily double," too.  

Walking into Hawkins' field, I saw Juliet Douglas, the interim Head of School at USN.  A true servant-leader, she was coaxed out of retirement to run the school for a year while they searched for a new Head of School after the ignominious end of Amani Reed's three year tenure.  Juliet represents everything that is good about USN and it made my night to see her at the baseball game.

I walked over to the Hume Fogg section on the third base side, found Randy, and gave his wife a hug.  Randy and I quickly settled in to watch the baseball game.  JK made a couple of nice plays in centerfield, tracking fly balls with confidence.  Clearly, he is comfortable defensively, which wasn't always the case when he was younger.  That's what consistent, hard work will do for you.  

JK was 0-2 at the plate, batting ninth.  He's been in a bit of a slump which, of course, happens in baseball.  He had been hot lately, batting leadoff, but cooled off the last two or three games, according to Randy.  

It was a great game, 2-2, until the sixth inning when Hume Fogg's coach foolishly pulled almost all of the starters so the junior varsity players could get play an inning or two at Hawkins' field.  I left and later learned that USN won 16-2.

As I left, I stopped by the Hume Fogg dugout, leaned down, and talked briefly with JK through the protective netting.  I told him I was proud of him as my voice caught in my throat.  In a spontaneous gesture that, somehow, summed up my feelings this spring for all of my Dodgers as they play out the last games of their baseball careers, I tapped my right hand tow my heart a couple of times, smiling and fighting back tears.  

As I turned to leave, I marveled at how grown up JP looked and at how quickly those Dodgers' days passed by.

A Tough Spring

It's not been the easiest spring for the boys athletically.  

Joe has struggled to find his way on the baseball team at school.  He hasn't started, bats eighth, and generally plays right or left field.  It's a very different baseball season from what he is used to, for sure.  As a rule, he's a pitcher, a middle infielder, a team leader, but that's not what has happened this season. 

Obviously, I don't see what goes on at practice, so it's hard for me to get a feel for why he's not been able to get noticed by the coaches.  His lack of size works against him, obviously, but that may change.  My only complaint - and it's a relatively mild one - is that I don't think Joe has gotten a real chance in games to play consistently and prove himself worthy of more time.  Still, the roster is a large one and it is, after all, seventh grade baseball.  

The more interesting thing to me, though, will be to see what Joe does with what is shaping up to be a bit of a lost seventh grade baseball season for him at school.  Does he use it as motivation and work tirelessly to get stronger, more agile, and a better hitter?  Does he set short-term and long-term goals for himself, in baseball, then come to me to see what we can do to help him carve out a path to reach his goals.  Or does he feel the sting of non-success briefly, then move on to the next thing, as Joe tends to do.  It's worth watching, as a father, for sure.

JP had his first race of the season after having been injured for the first time in his athletic career.  He ran the 800 at the Scott Hartman.  He got boxed in early, then used up all of his energy escaping and moving into second place, albeit briefly.  JP faded down the stretch and finished in seventh place at 2:01.  

While JP has been cross-training like a fiend during his recovery from injury, there is no substitute for actual running when it comes to preparing for a race or a race season.  That is abundantly clear. 

In short, both of the boys are unexpectedly facing some adversity this season.  That's not necessarily a bad thing, either.  It's part of life.

 

The Pain of Caring

Last night, the boys watched Vanderbilt lose a heartbreaker to Nebraska, 74-72, in the NCAA Tournament.  A win would have put Vanderbilt in the Sweet 16 and capped off their best basketball season in well over a decade.

It was out last night of a spring vacations bookended by college visits for JP, so they watched the game on a big, flat screen television at our Airbnb in Central, SC, minutes away from Clemson University.  Jude and I were in bed, reading, but kept up with the game by listening to JP's and Joe's shouts of joy followed by groans when something didn't go Vanderbilt's way.  I peaked my head in a couple of times in the second half to see what was happening.

It was a heartbreaking, gut punch of a loss for Vanderbilt, as they pulled ahead by six points late in the second half after falling behind early and trailing all game.  Nebraska rallied, though, and took the lead on a late drive and layup by one of their several white guards.  Tyler Tanner, by far their best player,  missed a half court shot at the buzzer that would have won the game.  Reminiscent of Gordon Hayward in the 2010 NCAA final when Butler lost to Duke by two, Tanner's shot was on line, hit the backboard dead center but a little too hard.  The basketball started to go down, then popped up and out of the goal.  A couple of Nebraska players fell to the ground in shock and relief.  They thought it the shot was in.  I did, too.

The boys are at that age where every Vanderbilt basketball game is life and death, especially one like last night's, when a loss end the season.  It's the same with the Lakers (whom we watched beat Orlando earlier on a last second 3-pointer by Luke Kennard), the Dodgers, Belmont basketball, and the Predators.  It's that sweet spot for a boy who is a sports fan, age 11 - 23 or somewhere thereabouts, where every big game is life or death.  It matters so very much.  I know, because I've been there, too.

I hate to see JP and Joe down, although I'm glad they care so passionately.  When you care, you're move alive, I think.  As a father, I'll take passion over apathy every day of the week.  Passion equals vibrancy, memories, laughter, exultation, and quite often, a broken heart as a season ends.  I hurt for them this morning, as I sip my coffee at Jitters Brewing Company in Central, SC.  I arrive just as they opened at 7:30 a.m. for a quick cup of coffee before our 5 + hour drive home.

Somewhere along the way, it seems like I stopped caring quite as much about the outcome of games, even those involving my favorite teams.  The exception is the Dodgers, I think, because the MLB playoffs are a roller coaster for me every year.  The last two years, with back-to-back World Series titles have been tremendous, or course.  The Lakers still matter a lot, too, as evidenced by how excited I was - and the boys, too - when Kennard won the game for them last night. 

Still, I care less and less about Tennessee football and basketball.  While I want Tennessee to beat Virginia today and get to the Sweet 16, I won't be devastated if they lose.  I feel the same way about the Predators.  I've been apathetic about them for a few years now, after being a devoted fan for so long.  It's strange, really.

I think as I've gotten older I've become so focused on the boys' lives that I don't have as much energy left to worry about the outcome of a game involving one of my favorite teams.  Life happens, you know?  There is work, family, and so much else going on in our country and the world that's not good that I find it hard to get too worked up over a game that one of my boys isn't playing in, or so it seems.

As I've written in this space before, my mom passed her love of sports to Tracy and me.  For sure, we have passed it on to our children, too.  In a way, it's the tie the binds us together.  It was, then, before my mom died, and is still is, now.  

So, I'll pack up my laptop in this quite, quaint little coffee shop that I'll likely never visit again, in Central, SC, and head home.  First to my family in our Airbnb five minutes away, then to our home and our lives in Nashville, busy and on constantly on the move.

Unless I miss my guess, JP isn't going to Clemson University, but it was nice to be here and see the campus.  It was nice to see him together, too, with a couple of his high school friends who are freshman here, particularly Charlie Warner.  

Western Carolina

For the past few days, we've been staying in a house in Connestee Falls, NC, owned by my childhood friend, Greg Westfall.  We had hoped to see Greg and his wife, Cheryl, at the end of the week but that's not going to happen, unfortunately.  They just returned to their home in Hilton Head, SC, from a week-long sailing trip, so it would be difficult to get away again so quickly.  Cheryl is the primary caregiver for her adult sister and mother, so she has a lot on her plate. 

I hate that we won't get to see Greg and Cheryl this week because a lifetime ago, pre-kids, Jude and I stayed with them in New York City when we were in town for the U.S. Open.  Jude and Cheryl really hit it off during out stay.  Now, we find ourselves 20 years down the road without having spent any meaningful time with them.  It's funny how life works.  Before he (semi) retired, Greg traveled extensively for work.  He and Cheryl didn't have children and, of course, we did.  As a result, we lived very different lives and our paths didn't cross in the ways I had hoped they would.  

Really, that's true of most of my close friends from high school and college, too.  Because Jude and I had children relatively late in life, our world never lined up with my friends' worlds in the sense that their children were older, then out of the house, while ours were still young.  I wouldn't change my life for anything, though.  JP and Joe have enriched my life - our lives - more than I could have possibly imagined. 

JP had a nice visit at Furman University.  The official tour he and Jude went on was informative.  I was glad he got have lunch with Jack Wallace, a former cross country and track teammate who is a freshman at Furman and a member of the cross country and track team.  While Jack and JP haven't been particularly close, I think it was helpful for JP to talk with someone he knows who is running in college.  

JP also visited with an assistant coach for the cross country and track team, which was helpful and informative, as well.  Jude and I talked with him briefly.  Nice and personable young man.

We stayed overnight in Spartanburg, SC, too, so JP could visit Wofford College, since we were in the area.  Our Airbnb in Spartanburg, SC, was great.  We even worked in a trip to the YMCA, so JP could get a workout in.  His first treadmill run in a while was a success.  Joe played 2-on-2 (or 2 v. 2, as the kids call it) basketball with some guys.  I saw him drain a couple of shots, including a nice 3-pointer from the left side.

I think JP enjoyed his tour and visit at Wofford College.  He and Jude took a tour there, as well.  I like the fact that JP is having an opportunity to see a few smaller, Division 1 colleges.  Clemson, on Saturday, will be completely different.  

It's funny, he never heard back from the coach at Wofford.  No response at all to his e-mail to let him know he would be in town and would like to meet.  It boggles my mind how a coach at a smaller school, like Wofford, could ignore an e-mail from an accomplished high school runner, like JP, who has posted times in races that indicate he is a potential Division 1 college runner.  Sure, I am biased, but not even a "thank you" for reaching out.  It's amazing how responsive some college coaches (and schools) are and how non-responsive other coaches and schools are.  I guess that's just part of college recruiting.  

Greg's place has been great, particularly since we figured out there is an exercise room in the clubhouse.  Apparently, the development (Connestee) Falls upgraded it a couple of years ago.  It's quite nice and has everything JP needs.  Treadmills, ellipticals, etc.  Perfect for him (and me) to get his runs and workouts in every day.

We've had great meals out every night in Brevard, NC, a town we've quickly fallen in love with.  Square Root, the Bohemian, and Quixote all were bit hits.  Jude has hiked to Connestee Falls the last two days.  Yesterday, she and Joe played tennis.  I've worked some, run on the treadmill, and generally tried to recharge my batteries.  

Tomorrow, we're off to Clemson University, where JP will visit with his friend and former cross country teammate, Charlie Warner.