Fall Classic

It's Sunday morning, October 25, and I find myself at Nashville Collegiate Prep, listening to the sounds of baseball as I wait for the game before Joe's game to finish up, so the NBA Cannons can take the field and play.

Walk-up music playing.  The 13 and 14 year olds on the team Joe's Cannons will play are taking batting practice with heavy balls, laughing and talking, as young teenagers do.  Parents in camping chairs are everywhere, most of them staring at their cell phones (probably watching TikTok or looking at Instagram, sadly).  Now, cheering for one team or the other, was I sit in the morning shade behind the third base bleachers.  It's quite pleasant, really.  A beautiful fall morning, although it's going to be a too warm 78 or 79 degrees this afternoon.  

The other team's coaches fit the baseball dad/coach stereotype.  Overweight, bearded, self-important, cocky, and all too serious for a meaningless C +/B - baseball game on a fall Sunday.  A young man, McCarty it says on his red, white, and blue jersey just walked up.  He's bigger than his coaches, and they're not small.  Go figure.  

The crack of the bat just now.  More cheers from parents.  Now, AC/DC's "Back in Black" playing as someone's walk-up music.  Next batter.  And so it goes.

I shouldn't be as cynical as I am about travel baseball, I know.  For sure, I'll miss it when Joe stops playing in a year or two.  I'll miss the out of the way, small town ballparks.  Or the old school ballfields like Pitts Park, in Antioch, not too far from here.  I'll miss the gem of a ballpark, like Nashville Collegiate Prep, where we're playing today, or Beech High School, where JP played once upon at time.  

I'll miss talking quietly to other parents, although I typically keep to myself at these games.  I'm not sure why but I like to watch my boys play baseball in peace, without worrying about carrying on a conversation with someone I don't know very well.  The exception, of course, is Gavin O'Rear.  Damn, we had a couple of good summers together watching JP and Gavin play travel baseball all over Middle and East Tennessee.  

Yesterday, during Joe's games, I had a fun, running conversation with the home plate umpire.  As is often the case, though my year's of coaching, he and I knew each other.  Not by name, but we recognized one another.  In between innings, we started talking about bands we'd seen in the '70's and '80's at Municipal Auditorium.  .38 Special.  Kiss (him, not me).  Charlie Daniels at the Volunteer Jam.  It's always fun to run into a native Nashvillian because there aren't many of us around.  

Joe's Cannons split two games yesterday, winning the first on a last inning rally after giving up a lead they should have held onto late.  Joe played fine in center field, shortstop, and second base.  He made on error on a pop fly at second base that I missed but otherwise caught two or three fly balls and a couple of pop flies at second base.  He came in to pitch in a bases loaded jam.  After walking a run in, he got the second batter he faced to pop out to him on a first pitch change up.  

We'll see what happens today.  

The Last of My Lions

This is a post that I never want to write.  In fact, it's one I've not been able to complete since I stared it a couple of weeks ago.  More than with almost any post I've written in this space, I've stopped and started so may times.  

I don't know where to start and I don't know where to end.  

On the morning of September 28, 2026, my friend and mentor, Ed Silva, died peacefully at Alive Hospice in Nashville.  His wife, SuSu and his son, Tony, where with him when he died, as was his close friend, Carmine Grassi.

It's ironic that a man who was larger than life in every sense, a man with such a big personality, left this earth so quietly. 

Initially, I planned to write an obituary of sorts, but I don't want to do that.  I'm just going to write how much Ed meant to me, personally and professionally. 

Ed was the last of my lions.  He was someone I looked to in my life for professional inspiration.  For proof positive that I could be a fierce advocate for my clients while maintaining a (mostly) friendly relationship with other attorneys.  Like Ed, I strive to be a family man - dedicated to my wife and children - while building and maintaining a thriving family law practice.  Also like Ed, I've tried to be involved in the community and to give back, although the depth of his contributions and connections to the Williamson County community is something I never could hope to approach.

Monday morning, September 28, 2026, at Alive Hospice in Nashville, shortly after a priest administered the last rites, Ed Silva died peacefully.  His son, Tony, had arrived a few minutes earlier with Ed's wife.  Ed's dear friend, Carmine, was there, too.  I've am so sad, bereft really, but I am comforted by the fact that Ed was with loved ones when he died.  

Ed was a philanthropist who gave his time and very quietly gave his money to organizations he believed in, like the Heritage Foundation of Williamson County, the Downtown Franklin Association, Nashville School of Law.  He was a respected community leader.  

Ed was a businessman and, once upon a time, a restaurateur.  In 1985 or 1986, he and Danny Anderson invested in and opened the General's Retreat (General's Quarters), a local bar and restaurant that later became the Bunganut Pig.  It was an English-style pub in the basement of Carter's Court, a Cheers for Franklin.  It was a gathering place for Franklin politicians and locals, a music venue, and, at the time, one of the few places in Williamson County with a liquor license.  

The Bunganut Pig holds a special place in my heart because Puryear, Newman & Morton's first office was around the corner and upstairs from the restaurant.  I ate many, many lunches there.  Mark, Chas, and I often had beers after work there in the early days of our law practice.

Looking back, I can't think about the 30 + year history of our law practice without thinking about Ed Silva.  A couple of years in, he took Mark and me to lunch, then tried to hire us to come to work for him afterwards at Hartzog and Silva.  Mark and I didn't even need to meet to discuss it.  As we sat in Ed's car on Church Street, outside our office, we immediately told Ed we were flattered but, no, we wanted to run our own law firm, just like he and Mark Hartzog had decided to do many years ago.  

It's funny but the last time I saw Ed at the hospital, when he was still conscious, he told the nurse that Mark and I turned him down many years before when he tried to hire us.  Ed being Ed, under heavy pain medication, what he said, laughing, was "those guys f*cked me when I tried to hire them!  They turned me down!  What a couple of assholes!  Can you believe that!" 

Through his pain, he laughed and laughed.  I did, too.  I will treasure those last couple of hours we spent together for the rest of my life.  What a gift for me to be able to sit and talk with Ed for a couple of hours before he fell asleep, more or less for good, later that night.   

There are so many stories.  Too many to write about here, really.  Also, stories about Ed Silva are better told in person, preferably with a bourbon or other alcoholic beverage in hand.  

Ed always complained halfheartedly, that Mark, Chas, and I didn't invite him on our annual trip to Las Vegas during the first round of the NCAA basketball tournament.  Finally, one year, Mark sent him the dates, hotel reservations, and flight information.  Ed claimed he was going to join us on the trip and, of course, we thought otherwise, now that we had called his bluff.

On the day we departed, our jaws hit the floor of the Southwest airliner when Ed walked down the aisle, late, looking for a seat.  I couldn't believe he actually was going to Vegas with us.  As memory serves, this was at least 15 years ago, maybe more, so Ed was in his late sixties.  Ed was going to Vegas with us!

Now, truth be told, he didn't have as much fun as we had hoped.  He complained . . . a lot.  We stayed out too late.  We ate dinner too late.  We wouldn't go to any shows.  We wouldn't get up early and eat breakfast with him.  We watched too much basketball.  In fact, Ed called his wife, Suzanne, and told her he was coming home after two days.  She talked him out of it, suggesting that Mark, Chas, and I would never have let him hear the end of it if he had come home early.  She was right.  We wouldn't have.  

My fondest memory of that trip was Ed, Doug Brown, and me playing black jack one evening.  The table was hot and we were rolling.  Making money.  Having a few drinks.  Laughing and talking.  The dealer and the pit boss loved Ed because he was, well, Ed.  Funny.  Engaging.  Charismatic.  Sarcastic.  And the best conversationalist ever.  The three of us had so much fun playing blackjack together.  I didn't want the night to end.  

In later years, our relationship deepened as I got older and became a seasoned trial attorney and mediator.  We became colleagues, peers, and close friends.  I mediated for him and he mediated for me.  We called each other to discuss cases.  We talked about our families.  

One of my fondest memories is from a couple of years ago, when Ed agreed to serve as a mediator in the Nashville School of Law domestic trial practice class that Lee Davies, Sr., and I taught.  The only catch was I had to drive him to class, then drive him home from Nashville to Franklin after class.  No problem, I told him.  However, he had to go with me to watch my older son, JP, play baseball for the MBA junior school team.

It was a beautiful early spring day, as I recall.  Ed and I drove to the baseball field at 42nd Street in West Nashville, where we sat in camping chairs behind the backstop in the first base side and watched JP pitch a gem of a game.  It filled me with pride and made me so happy - it still does, actually - to have Ed at JP's baseball game, watching him play.  The last few years, Ed has brought up that day to me, and others, many times.  He enjoyed being here almost as much as I enjoyed having him there.  

Was Ed a father figure to me?  Maybe, but mostly he was a mentor and close, close friend.  Someone I always could count on for advice, support, and friendship.  One of my North Stars, professionally.  

Last Saturday, I was a pall bearer at Ed Silva's funeral at St. Philip Catholic Church in downtown Franklin.  It was the honor of a lifetime for me.  It also was a fitting way for me to say goodbye, or try to say goodbye, to a man I cannot believe is gone.  When I unpinned the single red rose from my jacket and laid it on his casket at the graveside service, I silently said a prayer.  

Godspeed, Ed, my dear friend.  Until we meet again.

    

   

Back-to-Back at the Nike Metro Cross Country Championships

In what was the last local race of his cross country career, JP won the Nike Metro Cross County Championship for the second year in a row.

It was a warm but beautiful fall day at Vaughn's Gap, MBA's home course, as the boys ran against, David Lipscomb, Overton, Hillsboro, Hume Fogg, Ensworth, Brentwood Academy, Nashville Christian, JPII, and maybe a couple of other schools I can't remember offhand.  Father Ryan was notably absent - by design, probably - as they ran at the Hermitage course in a different event on Saturday.  

MBA easily won the JV and Varsity races, as expected.  It was cool - really cool - to watch Cullen Weaver, an 8th grader, run with the junior varsity.  He ran well, I thought, although I could tell he was nervous at the beginning of the race.  I found him at the starting line and gave him some encouragement.  As is Cullen's way, he ran the 5k distance, for the first time, a little cautiously.  He looked great the third mile and in all likelihood, had more left in the tank than he realized.  Cullen is a very talented runner who will figure it out.  It's a great opportunity for him to be able to run a few races with the high school team.

When I asked JP Monday night what his race plan was, he simply said he planned to run to win it.  "That's the goal, isn't it?"  I guess that is the goal and that's what he did.

As was the case at the race last year, JP and Gabe left the rest of the boys early in the race and ran together.  Gabe was right on JP's shoulder at the first mile as they ran past us and he remained there when they rounded the turn near Old Hickory Boulevard and ran toward us to complete the first lap on the course.  Gabe looked great at that point and I thought he might be tracking JP and looking to out kick him on the last half mile.

My thought was that JP probably needed to put some distance between the two of them on the hills during the second mile.  I think that's what happened.  When JP came into view on the back side if the course, parallel to Highway 100, I could see that he had opened up a gap between him and Gabe.  He widened the gap a bit on the back side of the second lap and won comfortably in 15:38.  Not blazing fast by any stretch but a good time on a course that isn't particularly fast. 

I was in my feelings before and after the race, as the kids say.  The feeling of nostalgia was so strong, as I walked the course, awash in memories of all the summer mornings JP and his teammates have trained at Vaughn's gap.  I also thought about the junior school races JP ran at Vaughn's gap, all wins.  

And, of course, I thought about the three previous Nike Metro Championship races.  His freshman year, their was so much talent in the race.  Two boys from Brentwood Academy and Thomas Arender from JPII, all of whom are running in college.  From MBA, Samuel Trumble, Mitchell Chaffin, Jack Wallace, Gabe Guillamondegui, and JP.  That was a stacked field.

What hit me the hardest, though, was when Gabe hugged JP in a private moment after the race, just after he crossed the finish line in second place.  Those boys have pushed each other for four years.  They've made each other better runners.  Although my perception is they run in different social circles, on the course they're so tight and supportive of each other.  It's been a joy to see them grow up. 

I snapped a couple of photos of them together.  When I showed Gabe's dad, Oscar, the photo of them hugging, he choked up with tears and I did, too.  I hugged him, told him I loved him, then quickly tried to compose myself.  What a ride it has been with Gabe and his parents, Tara and Oscar, and JP and our family.  

What a ride indeed.  Roll Red. 

First Quarter

Today marks the end of the first quarter of the 2026-27 academic year at MBA, which I cannot believe.  I was determined, this school year, to be intentional about slowing down so can enjoy JP's final year at home.  Of course, that hasn't happened as I've been busy at work and our family is constantly on the go, so here I sit on a Friday late morning, outside of Sump Coffee, thinking about how elusive the passage of time is when you have children.

So much has happened this school year already.  It makes my head spin.

Joe ran extremely well for the MBA JS cross country team, finishing in the top five for MBA and scoring in every meet.  The team went undefeated and won the HVAC title in the final race on a tiebreaker.  I think Joe enjoyed himself, although he hasn't been running since the season ended.  Will he run in high school?  That's to be determined.  

Joe made the MBA JS "A" soccer team and started in goal yesterday in a 6-0 win against an overmatched Ensworth team.  Since soccer is not one of Joe's main sports, I will be curious to see how he plays in what will be his last, albeit abbreviated, season of competitive soccer.  

It looks like Joe is going to have a 90 + average across all of his classes, which will put him on the privilege list at school for the first time.  That will be big for him, assuming it happens.

JP's cross country season has been, well, fine to date.  6th at Cecil Field, 1st at Chickasaw Trails, 8th at Southern Showcase, and 8th at Frank Horton.  He's only run one race under 15:40, which is surprising to me.  I anticipated him running well under 15:30 all season.  It will be interesting to see how he runs in the remainder of his races, the Metro Championship and the State Meet at Shelby Farm.  

JP and Joe have been active in the Catholic Club at MBA, which is nice to see.  In fact, just this morning they had an early meeting.  JP has been particularly active int he Broadcast Club at school.  He was one of three broadcasters for a "Game Day" production during the Friday school day before one of the football games.  I think JP and Joe are broadcasting an MBA hockey game together next week, which will be milestone for our family, for sure.  

The MBA football team, thus far, has enjoyed a charmed season with a 6 - 1 record in Coach Chris Chauvin's first season has head coach.  When the Big Red has a good football season, things feel different at school, for sure.

And, of course, JP verbally committed to run cross country and track at Davidson College.  He's very excited, as he should be, and I'm happy for him.  It's a big decision, no doubt, and one I know he's glad to have behind him.  

Joe's travel baseball team has played in two tournament, with a third to come the weekend before Halloween.  It's a nice group of boys and parents.    

Sadly, I lost one of my lions, Ed Silva, whom I'm still trying to find time and energy to write about.  It's hard because he meant so much to me, personally and professionally.  I'm not sure I can capture that in one post.  

Todd Matteson died a few weeks ago after a relatively short battle with pancreatic cancer.  Troy Baines is not doing well.  Jude's dad, another of may lions, continues to struggle valiantly against Parkinson's disease.  There's too much of that type of thing going on in my life, I think.

It's still a little warm, unseasonably warm, for my liking, although at least the mornings are cooler.  I put the Halloween decorations up at work on September 30, as is my custom, which marked the official beginning of all for me and the fact that I survived another hot Nashville August.

Davidson College!

Sunday morning, JP made it official.  He verbally committed to Davidson College to continue his academic and athletic career, running cross country and track.  He's so happy, and so proud, as he should be.  As a parent, there's nothing better than seeing your child happy.

Where to start?  

JP has worked so hard at MBA, academically and athletically.  He's earned the opportunity to attend a college as strong academically as Davidson, and to compete in cross country and track and field at the Division 1 level.  Selfishly, I thought more Power 4 schools should have expressed interest in him, but I think he landed right where he needs to be.  

Unless I miss my guess, JP will be able to compete, and contribute to the team right away.  Unlike at a Power 4 school, Coach Allden won't recruit graduate transfers over him that might take his travel spot on the team.  Davidson College also won't admit a bunch of foreign athletes to stack their team, like Oklahoma State, Eastern Kentucky, Holy Cross, and so many others.  Running at a Power 4 school is such a grind, too, with academics often an afterthought or at least not the focus.  In short, I think Davidson is a perfect fit for JP.

The recruiting process had been stressful, and strange, too.  For JP, texting and e-mailing with coaches on a daily basis.  College recruiting visits.  Meeting with his academic advisor, Jake Myers, and the college athletic liaison at MBA, Daniel Childs.  Both men have been instrumental in JP's college search and, on top of that, have been great sounding boards for him, especially this year, as recruiting heated up.  It's been a lot.

JP telephoned Coach Jeff Langdon at Belmont U. and Coach Christian Hubaker at Elon U. on Sunday to give them the new that he had chosen Davidson College.  Both of them were gracious and appreciative of JP's call.  I cannot say enough about both of them, as coaches and as men.  All class.

Jeff Langdon has been such a strong supporter of JP, almost from the very beginning of his running career.  I often saw him at Bongo Java in the mornings, particularly during JP's junior school and freshman years, and he never failed to ask about JP or ask me to pass along a message of support to JP.  He kept up with JP's race results and gave me sound advice about JP continuing to play baseball and run track until his junior year.  Jeff has become a friend, and I think it will stay that way.

JP, and really, all of us deeply love Belmont U.  We are sidewalk alumni, to be sure.  It would have been so easy for JP to say yes to Coach Langdon and Belmont U., but in the end, I think he wanted to go away to school.  It will be good for JP, I know, to go away to school.  A lifetime ago, I made a similar decision under different circumstances when I chose UT over Vanderbilt.  I wanted - needed - to get away from home.

Christian Hubaker was on JP the earliest, after Jeff Langdon.  He was the most persistent in staying in touch with JP, text messaging him often and talking on the phone with him on multiple occasions.  He believed in JP from the beginning and that meant a lot to JP, and to me.  JP enjoyed the visit to Elon, as I did, and he respects Christian a lot, which is what made it so difficult to tell him he had decided to attend Davidson.    

It would have been nice to get JP on campus at Washington U. in St. Louis, where he had a visit scheduled this weekend.  It just didn't work out from a timing standpoint, and JP is bound and determined to run at the Division 1 level, and I support him in feeling that way.  Some athletes have to find out, and JP has always been one of those.

The good news is that while other high school seniors are making their decisions, JP's is already made.  That should take some of the pressure off and allow him to enjoy his senior year at MBA.  That's my hope for him, anyway, although I know he will keep working hard in school and running.

A Weekend On and Off the Road

Friday afternoon, I rove through a downpour of rain to get to Andrea McCoy's wedding at the Hermitage.  Jude had left with JP for Memphis, so he could run in the Frank Horton Night Classic on Saturday evening, while Joe would be at home and on his own for dinner.

I had a bourbon in the Oak Room before the wedding, which was a nice way to end the work week.  I hadn't been to the Hermitage, or the Oak Room, for at least two decades, if not more.  Now, as one of the old guys, it was nice to sit for a few minutes, sip my bourbon, and watch and listen to the younger, energetic, patrons in the bar, many of which were at the Hermitage for Andrea's wedding.

The wedding was beautiful and Andrea was stunningly beautiful.  Tall, thin, and sparkling in a brilliant white dress, as she walked down the aisle in the terrace, I felt so happy for she and Austin.  I wish them a wonderful life together.  Dinner was delayed after the wedding, so I breached etiquette and left to go home and spend the evening with Joe.  My "Irish exit" was accompanied with more than a little guilt but I knew the weekend would be crazy and I would be in Memphis on Saturday, so I hated to miss a night to hang out with Joe.

Saturday morning, after Joe's 9 a.m. baseball game in Hendersonville, I drove back home, picked up a few things, and headed to the AirBnB I had rented in Memphis, five minutes away from Shelby Farms Park and the cross country course.  We'll return there for the state cross country meet in a few weeks, so it was a a good change for the boys to run the course once in a race before state meet.  JP wanted to post a fast time but he was coming off a stomach virus that kept him home from school on Thursday and left his ability to run the race at all in doubt.

In the end, he was on the line for the final race of the evening, at 8:30 p.m., in what really was a pretty cool atmosphere.  Lights posted on the course, attached to generators, and globes of some sort on the back side of the course.  Pretty cool.  Prior to the race, JP mentioned to Jude that he wasn't feeling particularly well, which portended a difficult race for him.

That's what happened, too, as JP ran in the lead pack for the first couple of miles before he seemed to run out of gas.  He probably ran the first mile too quickly, in 4:40, and that, combined with the fact that he was still under the weather, made the last mile a difficult one for him.  He finished 8th overall at 15:41, behind Gabe, who was 5th.  It's hard to quibble about a 15:41 race, but JP was disappointed afterwards.

JP and I decided to drive home after the race, rather than have him ride the bus.  His car was at our house and he had some things to take care of Sunday morning.  Plus, his stomach was still giving him trouble and we knew it would be easier to stop if I was driving rather than if he was riding one of the buses back to MBA.  He slept most of the way back and, in the end, we were glad to be home when we arrived shortly after 1 a.m.

Sunday morning, still groggy, I drove over to Hendersonville for Joe's game.  T'hey lost 2 - 1, mostly because they just couldn't hit, which seems to be a theme with this group.  Hopefully, that will improve in the offseason, because it will need to.  I'm committed to getting Joe hitting again, which will necessarily involve him gettin stronger.  There's a theme there, I know.  Joe needs to get stronger.

At the game, I was reminded of why we chose for Joe to play with the NBA Cannons.  Brad Lusk picked up Joe from the McDaniels' house for the game, further proof that it takes a village to raise a child.  I spent a large part of the game talking to Kristin Lusk, while Brad chatted with Ben and Audrey Phillips.  Having Joe play baseball with Bennett (Lusk) and Huck (Phillips) is going to be fun.

Joe and play a lot - and I mean, a lot - of ping pong ever the weekend.  I am on a bit of a roll, beating him 4 - 1 on Saturday and 6 - 0 last night.  He was not happy.

It's going to be a busy week.  Aren't they all, though?

At the Old (Travel) Baseball Game

I will forever have a love-hate relationship with travel sports.  Mostly hate, actually, because it's such a racket.  

This morning at Drake's Creek in Hendersonville, I will watch Joe play in what very likely will amount to a C +, or B - (if they're lucky) baseball game.  In other words, this will be a recreational league-level baseball game in which the parents of players on both teams have paid $2,500, give or take, so their sons can play "travel baseball."  Few of these boys will play high school baseball and none of them will play college baseball.

Our guys, 13 and 14 years old, are undersized.  Somehow, all of Joe's "travel" baseball teams are undersized.  As I look at the other team, which has much bigger boys, I feel confident in predicting a blowout.  Joe's team will be gonged early is my guess.   

Recreational baseball has been ruined by travel baseball, which is a shame.  I could write a book about it and, maybe, someday I should.

POSTSCRIPT    

In game one, a 5 - 3 loss, Joe pitched four scoreless innings in relief.  He struck out three, walked one, and only gave up one hit.  There were some hard hit balls but his defense played well behind him.  Although he's lost at the plate right now, he had a two strike, RBI single to right in his last at bat.

The Cannons lost game two badly, 13 - 4.