It’s not unusual for me to watch quite a bit of the summer Olympics every four years, but this year, I’ve practically been an Olympics junkie.

Part of this has to do with the fact that television programming really stinks right now. Part of it has to do with the fact that my 4-year-old son is a sports nut. And part of it has to do with how personal these Beijing games feel.

It’s not just the inclusion of local athletes – most notably Noblesville’s own Olympian, David Boudia. This paper has covered the diver closely for years, and – along with his parents – he is providing content from the Olympics for our Boudia Beijing Journal that runs in our sports pages. But I’ve never met David nor his parents, Jim and Sheilagh.

It’s another story when it comes to others connected to the U.S. diving squad.

Many years ago as a young sports reporter, one of the beats I covered was the Ball State University swimming and diving teams. The diving coach at that time was John Wingfield, who is now Boudia’s coach. Wingfield has logged considerable face time on the Olympic telecasts.

While I’ve had my share of conversations with Wingfield, those chats pale in comparison the number of times I’ve interviewed Ned and Marian Dunnichay, the parents of 15-year-old Elwood diver Mary Beth Dunnichay. I covered cops and courts in Madison County for two different papers during my career. At different times, Ned and Marian each have served as coroner for Madison County. When Mary Beth competed in the synchronized platform diving event Tuesday, the cameras kept flashing to Ned and Marian.

I’ve had brushes with many of the other athletes in these games. For years, I’ve worked a part time job doing behind the scenes work for telecasts of sporting events. Most of the members of the men’s basketball team I’ve seen up close and personal several times during Pacers games. Having worked many Indiana Fever games, I’ve even shared a few “hellos” with U.S. Olympian and Fever star Tamika Catchings.

In 2005 I worked the U.S. Gymnastics Championships in Indianapolis and rubbed elbows with nearly all the U.S. gymnasts competing in Beijing.

I have to admit, seeing people I know or have been around on the Olympics telecasts is pretty cool.

In this business, it’s not unusual to see someone you know or someone you’ve interviewed on television. But this is the Olympics. The whole world is watching the games.

So if Michael Phelps’ march toward history in the pool, or women’s beach volleyball weren’t already enough to draw my attention, the prospects of seeing a familiar face have made these Olympic games well worth a watch.

I’ve detailed the nearly-obsessive love my son has for all things racing many times. It’s scary how big a racing fan he is as a 4-year-old, watching every NASCAR and IRL race that is on television, and using racing jargon as he plays with his toy cars — or his sister’s baby strollers for that matter.

He does not get it from me. I love sports, but have never been a huge motor sports fan. I’ve not discouraged his obsession. Afterall, it’s not like he’s becoming a white supremacist or a Pistons fan. In the past couple years, I’ve learned far more about racing than I ever imagined I would because of Zach.

Well, now it appears he has infected his sister.

Sunday offered up a tricky twin bill of racing, with the NASCAR and Indy Car races running at the same time. I had a lot of work to do around the house, and Zach couldn’t choose just one race. Well, I allowed him to take his first step into manhood, and control the remote. That’s right. I sat him up on the couch with some pretzels, a drink and the remote and taught him how the “recall” button works, so he could switch from race to race at his whim.

At one point in the afternoon, I listened as he explained to 2-year-old Emily that he was watching the Indy Car race and only switching occasionally to the NASCAR race because “NASCAW waces are longoo then Indy Caw waces, and the NASCAW wace will still be on when the Indy Caw wace is over.” Despite his difficulty pronouncing his Rs, he made a compelling argument.

What shocked and dismayed me, though, was after he switched to the Indy Car race during a commercial in the NASCAR race, I heard Emily’s little voice scream in protest, “No, I want watch NATHCAR.”

Monday’s news that Donnie Walsh would step down as president of the Indiana Pacers at the end of the season didn’t come as a surprise. He had said all along this — his 24th year with the team — would be his last. In recent months it became clear he would stick to that promise.

That didn’t soften the blow any. I just hate to see him go out like this.

I’ve been a Pacers fan my entire life. I remember well life before Walsh. A handful of Pacers games would be broadcast each season. Now nearly every game is on TV. Ugly curtains at Market Square Arena use to hide the fact that half the arena was empty. Under his stewardship, sellouts became the norm and the team built the sparkling gem that is Conseco Fieldhouse.

Like the other three ABA teams absorbed by the NBA, the Pacers seemed to be fighting an uphill battle in their early days in The League. Under Walsh’s leadership, they became perennial contenders. In fact, he built this team into a championship caliber organization not once, but twice. First came the Reggie, Rik, Mark and Davises era. After that team grew old and its parts moved on or retired, he built the franchise again with the Reggie, JO, Artest era.

Then came the brawl. Nothing has been the same since.

One of the league’s marquee franchises is now in ruins. The fans hate this group of players, and refuse to support the team. The Pacers have the lowest attendance in the league. The franchise is saddled with unwieldy contracts that will have them in salary cap hell for the foreseeable future. Much of this is the result of the handiwork of one of my playing idols, Larry Bird. Much of it is the result of the Curse of the Cup — that damn beverage that landed on Ron Artest’s chest and changed the team’s fortunes.

While Walsh must bear some of the responsibility for picking up and holding on too long to a cast of malcontents and injury-prone trouble makers, it is sad that this is how his time here will end. He deserved to go out on top.

The theory is he’ll be running the Knicks next year. Yet another kick in the gut to Pacers fans. This would be akin to Bill Polian leaving the Colts to run the Patriots. I just can’t believe it is happening like this. I’ve long respected and admired Donnie. I thank him for what he did for the Pacers. I wish him the best. But if he should end up in New York, well, I hope he has as much success as Isiah Thomas has had there.

 As I write this, I remain on hold, waiting for a customer service supervisor from Dish Network to talk to me. This is the second time I’ve been on hold during this phone call … the first time taking roughly 10 minutes after I waded my way through the oh-so-convenient voice operated telephone service, repeating everything I said twice because apparently the mechanical operator, much like the customer service reps I’ve talked to repeatedly over the past few months, does not recognize English. When the customer service guy, Sylvester answered, I immediately asked for a supervisor. Sylvester hasn’t screwed me over, so there’s no reason to vent on him.

If I ever do get to talk to a supervisor, I believe my next step is to drive home, rip the satellite dish off my house, set fire to it, record it and post it on YouTube. I HATE DISH NETWORK. This company has been a nightmare to deal with… Oh wait, Sylvester the customer service rep tells me Fred the “floor supervisor” is about to take my call…

… no satisfaction from Fred. He tells me the lies told to me by the Dish Network salesman can’t be rectified. I’ve asked to talk to someone from the “executive department” (sounds impressive), so I am on hold again.

 This nightmare began in October with an innocuous little post card I received in the mail. I had been looking to upgrade to high definition service, and this particular “Special Offer” would provide me 75 HD channels as opposed to the nine HD channels my cable provider could offer.

When I called to take advantage of this special offer, I asked two questions: 1. Will my local channels by in HD? 2. Will I get Fox Sports Indiana — the station that carries local broadcasts of Indiana Pacers games? I would NEVER sign up for a system on which I could not watch the Pacers. I was given an emphatic “yes” to both questions.

 Come to find out, after my system was hooked up … an ordeal that took an entire Sunday (I’m not kidding, it was more than 5 hours, and included me having to rip the cork board off my garage wall, only for the highly skilled installer to realize that the splitter he needed was in my attic) and caused me to miss the first half of a Colts game … not only were my local channels NOT offered in HD, but I had to go out and buy a special 80-freaking-dollar cable in order to get ANY channels in HD  on my HD receiver. How does this work? I ordered HD satellite service. They guy came, installed it and left, yet no HD service. When I called to get phone service, I didn’t have to go out and buy wires that allowed my phone to work with the phone line the guy installed. When the phone guy left, I had phone service. But I digress.

The biggest concern for me was, Halloween night came, opening night of the Pacers season, and I did NOT have Fox Sports Indiana. I called the 800 number for Dish, explained the situation, and some woman magically flipped a switch and I had the game. She did not mention the word “upgrade” and she did not mention any additional cost.

But… when I started getting my bills, sure enough, I had been upgraded to a higher priced package. Soooo, a special offer thta was suppose to cost $44.99 a month for six months, and then $67 thereafter, was costing me more than $70 out of the gate.

Then my three month movie channel trial ended. I called to cancel those so I wouldn’t have to pay for them. Sure enough, I’ve been charged for them EVERY month since I’ve cancelled them. Then, I get my bill this month — did I mention it was suppose to be $44.99 a month? — well, this month’s bill was for $107.83. It included the upgrade, and two months of a premium movie package I had cancelled two months ago … wait, Fred is back on the line …

Aparently the big wigs in the “executive department” were too busy to talk to someone as insignificant as a customer. Fred did say they will give me the upgraded package (which includes the Pacers games) for the price of the lower package. THERE was that so hard? I’ve had three different “floor managers” including Fred tell me they simply could not do that. Well, apparently they can. Of course, I’m taking it with a grain of salt until I see next month’s bill. It will probably be $200.

I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed Saturday night’s slam dunk contest during the NBA’s All-Star weekend. That shocks me.

I’ve never been a huge fan of the dunk contest. I’ve always loved the three-point shooting contest, but I always found — with a few notable exceptions — the dunk contest to be anti-climactic at best, and painful to watch at worst. The past couple years have offered a couple memorable moments, which spurred the television commentators to declare that the contest was “back.” In reality, two or three memorable moments during the entire program does not mean the contest has returned to any prior glory that some feel it may have achieved.

Once again Saturday, the commentators slobbered all over themselves, with Magic Johnson repeatedly decrying the contest’s return — at least I think that’s what he was saying … Magic is hard to decipher sometimes. Only this time, I’d have to say, there was reason for excitement.

The contestants were very creative, and the night included some truly memorable moments. I think the one thing that makes it “feel” like the contest is exciting again, however, is Dwight Howard. Rather than simply parading out a caravan of reserves, the past couple years have featured the Man-Child from the Orlando Magic who is simply magnetic. He’s thrown down some dunks the past couple years that were graceful, creative and powerful — the ingredients that fueled the contest in its heyday of MJ and Dominique Wilkins. Howard is a superstar participating in a contest that lost its star power at least a decade ago. His dunk from behind the backboard Saturday was unbelievable.

My favorite moment, however, came from runner-up Gerald Green of the Minnesota Timberwolves. His birthday cake dunk made me nearly fall off the couch laughing. VERY entertaining. Check it out below.

I hate the NY Giants. But man was I happy to see them win the Super Bowl  last night. While I hate the Giants, hate is not a strong enough word for the contempt I feel for the Evil New England Patriots.

For years I’ve heard Pats fans say that all the offensive stats, all the passing records, all the great regular season win-loss records compiled by the Indianapolis Colts and Peyton Manning  each year meant nothing without a ring. Well Patsy fans, all the offensive stats, all the passing records, the undefeated regular season, it all means nothing without a ring.

How great is it that despite an historic regular season by the Evil New England Patriots, which had all the prognosticators comparing them to the greatest teams of all time, that now they are relegated to a quirky footnote in history  — the team that went 18-0, then lost the only game that matters.

 I try never to gloat when another fan’s team loses, because I know how much it hurts. But I don’t know that Pats fans have a heart, so I’m gloating away today.

The hated and despised Detroit Pistons are in town tonight to face the beloved Pacers. I stay away from sports media coverage for the most part on the days when the Pacers play the Pistons out of fear I’ll see or read something about “the brawl.” Even to this day I can’t watch video of it. It’s too painful.

 I did come across this link recently. This is reason No. 4,567,432,678,980 that I hate the Pistons:

http://www.need4sheed.com/videos/sheed_breakin_2.html

While I am full-blooded white trash — straight out of the trailer parks of Kokomo — I had never before attended a Monster Truck event until Saturday. It was one of the great nights of my life.

Those who know me might think I’m being sarcastic, as I have been known to be a smart-mouthed jerk. But Saturday I went to the Monster Jam at the RCA Dome and it is something I’ll never forget. Not because of the giant trucks smashing stuff — which, I have to admit was more entertaining than I thought it would be — but because I got to do it take my 4-year-old son Zach.

Zach is a car and racing nut. I don’t know where he gets it. Music and sports involving balls have always been my thing. Despite being born and raised near the auto sports capital of the world, I’ve never been a big racing fan. Zach, however, is hooked to the extent that he’ll watch NASCAR races every weekend during the season … by himself. He’ll spend hours playing with his Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars, acting out races.

He’s got a Grave Digger toy monster truck along with others, so I decided to take him to Saturday’s show. Man it was so fun watching him cheer on his favorites (Grave Digger, and the Ninja Turtle and Superman trucks). We stayed till the very last car was smashed, and we didn’t get home until past midnight, AND I paid a pretty penny for the tickets, but it was all worth it to have that experience with him.

Above is a video someone shot from Saturday’s event. For those who have never been to a Monster Jam, I’d describe it as the pure hybrid of auto sports and Pro wrestling. For a 4-year-old boy who loves cars and trucks… it was heaven.

I don’t know if I can bring myself to watch the Super Bowl this year. Partially because I feel the Colts should be there. But mostly because I cannot root for either of the teams playing.

I was a teenager when the Colts moved to Indy, so my fandom long predated my affection for the home team. Like most kids growing up in central Indiana in the ’70s and early ’80s, I had a favorite team based on something other than proximity. My favorite was the Washington Redskins. I continue to root for them unless they are playing the Colts. One of the Redskins’ biggest division rivals has always been the Giants. Therefore, in good conscience, I cannot root for them to win a world championship.

 At the same time, I’d probably root for a team fielded by al Qaeda if it were playing the Evil New England Patriots. I hate the Evil New England Patriots more than any other sports franchise, with the possible exception of baseball’s Giants, and the Detroit Pistons and New York Knicks of the NBA.

 So what to do about the Super Bowl. I DO NOT want to see the Evil New England Patriots go undefeated. But I can’t root for the Giants. Hmm. Guess I’ll spend Super Sunday cheering each time I open a new beer.

This is my first ever blog. I know, it shows. I’m not the most technologically savvy guy in the world. I still take notes with a pen and paper. I keep my appointments in an old school planner. But, I do like communication, and any tool I can use to communicate to others in the world (either real or cyber) I try to embrace.

 The name Off Deadline is a bit of a misnomer. Today, newspaper people are really never off deadline. It is a 24/7 news cycle. But, contrary to the beliefs of my wife and children, I am NOT always at work.

 Just a little about me. I’m the editor of the Noblesville Daily Times. I live in Noblesville, Ind. with my wife, Michelle, and two children, Zach and Emily. I’m a sports junkie who lives and dies with the Indiana Pacers, Indianapolis Colts and Los Angeles Dodgers.

 Music is a passion of mine. I play guitar and write music, and I spend much of my free time when I am off deadline playing, listening to or talking about music. So many of my posts will be music related. 

Well, I’ve gotta go meet with my publisher, so I’m outa here for now. I’ll try to post daily, but I make now promises.