Feel(ing) good story

Among a huge heap of scattered papers, empty energy drink bottles and a random baseball on my desk, I came across a letter from one of our valued V.I. Daily News readers.

Usually, people just leave crazy, F-bomb-riddled voice mail messages on my office phone to let me know I'm doing such a wonderful job covering sports in the territory.

Well, this reader ignored the phone book and typed out a lovely letter for me. It was in response to an article I wrote about a high school football player who found success amid early struggles.

The people who call the shots at the paper liked it so much, they put it on the front page and it was one of those true journalistic moments when sports transcends into news.

Or they just had nothing else to go with that day.

Please don't laugh too hard at our website design and check out the story at this LINK.

The only reason I found the buried letter is because the lady who wrote it just dropped in to discuss the article further with me. She did not know him personally, but if you read the article, I think everyone on island knew of his antics.

We talked for a while and she pleaded that I write more stories like it because there are plenty of young people that are trying to turn their lives around.

"And if you keep writing about them, the kids will read about it and try to do the same with their lives," she said, while holding my hand and trying to hold back tears.

"Wait, let me get this straight, high school kids are actually reading the newspaper?" I asked to break the tension. I think she wanted a hug.

Apparently, they do. Which is why this newspaper somehow still turns a profit. And that's probably why we haven't updated our website layout since 1990. Hmm, interesting.

Running into appreciative readers is always a breath of fresh air.

Like I said before, it does not happen often. When it does, it's pretty awesome. Especially when it comes in the form of a random grandmother with soft hands and kind words.

Touchdown City

Some time in between filing my game story from inside a greasy stadium concession stand and being woken up by a high school football mom while taking a nap in the stands, it hit me.

High school football on this island ain't too shabby.

The U.S. Virgin Islands high school territorial IAA varsity tackle football game (that's a long title for a game played in the outfield of a baseball stadium) was held this week and the timing was not ideal for this dizzy sports scribe.

I'm was totally consumed by the annual Paradise Jam basketball tournaments and the football game was penciled in between the men's and women's tourneys. That's why I stretched out on the top bleacher, relaxed my eyes and took a nap during the JV All-Star game.

"Hey, I know you," the mom said as she sort of nudged my knee. "You're the guy who went to Florida or Mexico or something. The guy from the paper..."

My mumbled response sounded like, "Yes, that's me. Is that why you woke me up?"

Gridiron Mama: "Oh, I just wanted to let you know that you have a following here. I enjoyed your articles. Are you covering this game?"

Lethargic writer: "Yup, front-page exclusive."

Gridiron Mama (not taking a hint): "That's good. These boys are the future of football here."

The future? What was this woman talking about? They don't even play with field goal posts here. A lot of my friends are bewildered by that fact. The simple response is they go for a 2-point conversion every time. Opening kickoffs are laughable (and that's if they stay in bounds).

I'm supposed to talk to my boy Linval Joseph about that next month. I call him my boy because it sounds cool. The truth is I've met him in person only once and we've talked on the phone a few times.

Joseph plays for the New York (football) Giants and he is from St. Croix. He asked me last year what he could do to help out football back home. He wanted to do something different compared to the normal "giving back" tactics. New uniforms, pads, a sponsored all-star game -- all things the USVI players desperately need -- were off the list. He asked me to thing outside the box.

"Three words," I told Linval. "Field goal posts."

He was amazed they didn't play with them. I told him that by comparison, it was a success if a game even kicked off within two hours of its scheduled start time of if the stadium lights actually worked.

Linval laughed at my antics but I assured him that I was telling the truth and it was a bad scene back on the islands. They need his help. I'm going to see him again soon and will tighten the screws on his alleged hometown commitment.

After the mom left me alone, I went back to sleep until the varsity championship. Charlotte Amalie High won its sixth straight title, 38-20. Moments after the game, players from both teams joined the cheerleaders for an impromptu dance party on the 50-yard line.

I thought that was hilarious. They didn't have any field goal posts they could tear down in celebration so a little grinding with the booty-happy cheerleaders sufficed.

Voting for a good time

At about the same time the James Madison University football team walked into Blacksburg, Va. and shocked Virgina Tech, I found myself far away from the rest of the world on a 28-foot power boat in the Caribbean Sea near Tortola.

Do you see the connection? Good, because I don't.

Aside from serving as a monster day in college football, last Saturday was also when the Democratic and Republican Party Primary elections were held on the U.S. Virgin Islands.

And being the good local citizens we are, the Brugos Brothers and I (along with our significant others) loaded up the coolers, made sure our voting registration was not even close to being up to date and we headed out to sea.

If the local leaders were going to be decided on this U.S. territory, I wanted to be as far away as possible and that meant cruising the waters near the British Virgin Islands.

We had enough beer to feed a small army and some Cool Ranch Doritos to boot. Our boat captain, Alex, was a quiet fellow but he seemed to open up as the party picked up steam. Maybe it was the vodka he brought along for himself or the massage he received from the only single patron aboard the vessel.

"I'm single, I don't give a f***, I'll make out with him," I think were her actual words of justification.

Anywhoo, I'm getting ahead of myself.

We cruised past St. John and right into the Tortola Harbor. It had been over 10 days but I saw at least three boats still overturned from Hurricane Earl. It was obvious the BVIs got rubbed a little harder than St. Thomas during the storm.

We were at sea for no longer than an hour and I had to break out the old passport to prove it. Got my first stamp since a Bahamas freakout in 2008 that featured these fine gentlemen...

We hiked a rock cluster near the shore, did a little snorkeling and a lot of drinking. One of the most memorable parts of the trip had to be our visit to this fine establishment called the Williams Thornton Floating Bar & Restaurant near Norman Island.

The Willie T has a rich history of culture, sophistication and naked women.

Yes, that's right. At the old Willie T, nudity is more prevalent than their loaded dining menu, which consisted of only chicken fingers when we made our afternoon visit. We ordered four plates.

According to the Willie T web site: "Ski shots and body shots heat up the bar area a little later in the day. It can get pretty rowdy at times but fun is had by all."

We did several rounds of ski shots but the latter I can not attest to. Don't worry, babe. I won't post the pictures (wink, wink).

Just before the sun went down, we made the flat-out burn back to St. Thomas and the crew had some dinner at Island Time Pub. Momentum on the day started to slow -- we'd left the Red Hook docks around 9 a.m. -- but I didn't call it quits.

Several days before, I had been invited to a Beach Party "Burning Man" blowout at Neltjeberg Beach and I grabbed some second wind after I demolished an ITP calzone.

I had never been to Neltjeberg before and making my debut at midnight on a Saturday was not a great idea. About two miles of very bumpy, dirt road stood between the North Side of St. Thomas and the actual beach and I must have received drunken directions from about five different people.

In the end, it was the Maps application on my iPhone that assisted me to and from the beach. At the party, I got to party with my boy Jerry, and his girl, Julie. The bond fire was epic and the DJs kept the party rolling.

I finally made it back home around 5 a.m. There was talk about watching the sun come up but I called it quits on a Saturday to remember in paradise.

The next day, some local politicians were celebrating in the street for unknown reasons and I awoke just in time to watch my beloved Giants beat up the Panthers.

No where to play

Before I moved to St. Thomas, I was the senior content editor for a high school sports web site in Baltimore. Great job and it's a great place. I know the Bmore folks go cukoo for their lacrosse but football is a pretty big deal there, too.

"Yeah! Crabcakes and Football. That's what Maryland does!"

Wedding Crashers was a great movie.

So right about now, I know football is in full swing as two-a-days and full pads are the norm in Maryland and probably just about every other state in America. Here on this little tropical island, football preseason is a little different and sometimes non-existent.

I wrote this story about a public school on St. Thomas that unexpectedly has zero athletic facilities at the moment. The kids are ready to work out but it's not going to happen. Remember, this is a public school. Its rival school down the road has a field -- it's laughable -- but they have something and can at least afford practices.

Allen Iverson: "We're talking about practice..."

The story was published Friday in the V.I. Daily News. Are you ready for some football? Apparently, Kean High School is not.

It's kind of sad.

In the words of the great gossip queen Helen Lovejoy:

"Won't someone please think of the children?!"

I took this picture a couple weeks ago. It was during the first practice of a junior flag football league St. Thomas debuted this summer.

If things stay the same way on this island, when these kids get into high school, they'll be twiddling their thumbs come football season.

Gimme the loot

So I came into work early today because I'm working on a story about a local public high school that will not have its football field ready before school starts. The school's gym is under construction too which probably means no football, no volleyball and potentially no physical education program for the upcoming semester. If there's no P.E., then the school will potentially lose its accreditation and then the real shit storm starts.

Not to mention these kids will have nothing to do when the final bells rings at 2:30 p.m. everyday. You want a gang problem -- you go it.

Anyway, I sit down at my desk and instead of hitting the phones, I open The Daily News and find that we started to publish the names, positions and salary of every single government employee on the island. There's almost 10,000 of them so this will take all week. Today's section: the V.I. Board of Education.

I couldn't help it but I had to look up the salary of every teacher, coach and athletic director I interact with on a daily basis. It was intriguing. Some of them make a lot more than they are worth while others are definitely getting screwed.

Which brings me back to the field. Who the hell is going to pay and get this field ready?? Are these kids getting compromised so this guidance counselor ($68K) or that JROTC instructor ($90K) got an extra few bucks?

The field has freaking trees -- I'm not joking -- tress growing on the 50-yard line. It's been this way for three years now!

Meanwhile, the public works director won't answer my questions about why this public high school football team has to practice at a nearby arboretum and play its home games in the outfield of a baseball diamond almost 12 miles away.

Well, I know how much he makes. Should be a good ice breaker.