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In major college football coaching is basically broken down into two groups as per the NCAA.  First you have the “fulltime” coaches of which you are allowed nine plus the head coach.  You then have two “on-field” Graduate Assistant Coaches (GA’s) and two non-coaching Graduate Assistants who have various duties including developing scouting reports and analyzing opponents.

There are all kinds of other guys running around the office as well.  You have senior coaches – who do no on the field coaching but work with scouting, recruiting and so on.  There are academic counselors, strength coaches, administrative assistants and so on and so forth.  But, you get the picture.

When I first started coaching a Division 1 staff was limited to eight fulltime coaches, but the number of GA’s you had was only limited by your football budget.  So, whatever you wanted to spend was up to the head football coach and athletic director.

In essence, the graduate assistant coach is in a learning position and the fulltime assistants are there to guide them, teach them football etc.  In return the GA gets a small stipend to live on and his graduate studies are paid for by the athletic department.

When you are a graduate assistant coach and you get all the low-level football jobs.  As we used to say you are lower than “whale shit on the bottom of the ocean.”  Well, that’s the way it is – but it is a rite of passage.

You are the least relevant guys on the staff.  The fulltime coaches are doing all the important stuff like game planning, coaching the individual groups, meeting about what needs to be done.

They are more experienced coaches who are paid a salary by the school – have medical insurance (mental and dental as we like to say), have a retirement fund and often have a car sponsored by a dealership in town – and a bunch of other perks.

So basically compared to the full-time coaches you were pretty much just cheap help.  But, to move up the coaching chain you had to put in your time and pay your dues.

Now, as a GA you might get blamed for something you really had no control over.  But, don’t worry you aren’t going to get any credit for anything that goes right.

The GA’s are doing all of the runaround things that the eight or nine fulltime guys feel are below their stature – or sometimes is just too lazy to do for themselves.

If someone needs something run off on the printer or some extra film watched – you get to do it.  If they need someone to track down a player or take attendance at a study hall – well that is your job whether it was assigned to you or not.

Let me back track here to explain a few things to the non-football people who are crazy enough to read about these episodes.  Full-time coaches are just that.  It is their job to coach the football team.

Graduate assistant coaches are generally guys who have recently finished college.  They are trading off their beginning coaching experiences (to learn from the full-time guys how to coach – theoretically – anyway.) for a chance to work on a master’s degree.

As a GA at New Mexico State I received $300 a month and the school paid for my grad courses.  Well, I never went to the classes because the Head Coach discouraged it.  He said if you earned a master’s degree you were spending too much time on school and not enough time working in the football office. (The other three GA’s with me all earned their Master’s degrees while I obviously did not.)

But, being a GA is essential to your career path in football.  Almost all guys who get a fulltime job in football have been a GA at one time or another.  It was how you broke in and met people who could pull you ahead. It’s just the way it is done in athletics.

Hell, I always thought I was lucky to find a job as a grad ass (often we went by the name of grad ass) because they are hard to get.   I literally spent two years trying to break into Division I football as a GA.  Those are coveted spots and with only four per major college staff now days very had to work your way in unless you were a player at a big school.

So, when you are lucky (did I say lucky?) enough to get one – put your head down, shut your mouth and get to work.

This is the way you will learn to be a coach!  You might also say that sometimes you learn what not to do to be a coach.  Later you learn that some of the stuff you see is just a bunch of bullshit.

That’s just the way it is.  You aid the fulltime position coaches with their own workday.  Yet, you have your assignments to get done as well.  Trust me if you keep a good attitude it isn’t that terrible.  But, it can be hard on your ego!

As you can imagine sometimes you are taken advantage of – think of an intern in the office at JP Morgan.  Interns in business are like GA’s in football.  You are there to be mentored and to learn the job.

A lot of the time you end up cleaning up meeting rooms.  Making sure everyone has pens and paper.  Running down trivial jobs that are too far beneath the full timers to do.

I have seen a graduate assistant (GA) called into a coaches’ office and told to run down the street to buy donuts for a staff meeting – (by the way) using his own dwindling money, another had to drive the head coach’s car to his home so his wife could have it (without giving the GA a ride back by the way).  And, a thousand other BS jobs that the fulltime coach is sometimes just too busy (or like I said earlier too lazy) to do himself.

But, that’s the way it works.  No one said it was easy, and no one said it was going to be fair.

Some GA’s move on to become fulltime coaches … others don’t and some decide the job is not for them and they get into a more normal business.  Of the  three other guys I spent my GA year – I was the only one to stay in college football..

One went back home to PA and became a coach and athletic director, one coached a few years in college then got out and the third returned to Montana and became a principal and later a superintendent of schools.

We had a fifth guy who came in later.  I am not sure what he ended up doing, but he didn’t stay in college coaching though.

To be honest with you I never understood why any fulltime coach would take advantage – or abuse – a grad assistant.  It never made any sense to me.  When I was fortunate to land my first fulltime job (Arizona State) I went out of my way to make sure the rookie coaches were taken care of.

Well, there was one of the reasons I got the nickname “Big Daddy.”  Mostly because I bought the guys beer, or got them fed.  But quite honestly Coach Rogers at Arizona State and his staff were really great to the young coaches – they appreciated the help they gave..

But, I can guarantee you one thing – every coach has a “GA” story.  Coaches are generally great story-tellers (alright “bullshitters” might be more closer to the mark.)  I can’t tell you the several million (hyperbole – OK) times I sat around a table stacked with beer cans with a group of coaches telling and listening to football stories.

Well, here is my graduate assistant coach story from New Mexico State.

The head coach Gil Krueger who was a prickly guy with a pretty healthy ego. He would hand out jobs to the GA’s to make sure the full-time coaches could spend time with their serious work and not have to worry about minor things around the office.

For instance – one of the four of us grad assistants was responsible for making sure the practices were filmed (notice I said filmed – there was no video equipment in those days, there were 16 millimeter cameras).

Another had to make sure the student managers had all of the practice gear on the field – things like dummies, sleds, step over bags…and most importantly footballs!

To this day I think my job might have been the most unique GA “shit” job ever in the history of football.

I was in charge of the laundry.  Yes, the laundry.  On the surface it could …  no, should have been a very simple job.  But, not so fast Batman!

At NMSU we had no washing machines and dryers in the football stadium.  So, every day all of the sweaty jerseys, pants, jocks, socks and towels had to be packed up in duffel bags and brought downtown (about two miles) to a laundromat – put into washing machines to get cleaned and then into the dryers to get dried.

I was to oversee that process.

Well, Gil gave me a player who was ineligible – Dee Taylor – to be the guy to actually do the job.  I was just to supervise him and make sure everything went properly.  I wouldn’t actually have to do the work.  That was Dee’s job.

Like I said, he would pack up the laundry load it into an athletic department truck and take it downtown.  Then he would physically load the washers and then the dryers – wait around, repack the duffel bags and drive the now clean laundry back to the stadium.

Now, the reason Dee was ineligible was because basically he was a lazy dumbass who didn’t go to class and was cruising through.  But, since he was on scholarship Coach Krueger wanted him to at least earn his way.

Things went well for about a week or so in summer football camp.  The laundry was getting done.  Gear was being handed out nice and clean.  But, all good things must come to an end.

Dee went AWOL on me during week two and the gear wasn’t cleaned one morning.

Now, no one wants to go to practice in shorts and t shirts that are  damp with old sweat let alone  wet jock straps  that smelled bad.  Oh yeah remember our school is in the southwestern desert … hmmm could get a little toasty out there on the practice field.

Naturally – and rightly so – players complained about the unwashed gear.

Gil called me in and ripped me up one side and down the other.  Called me some nice words and so on.  I tried to defend myself (wrong, wrong, wrong idea … no excuses please1) by explaining the missing Dee Taylor.

As I recall the Head Coach just had this incredulous look on his face and in no uncertain terms told me that (pardon my French here) I was a stupid fucking son of a bitch with even more nice words worked in!

He said he didn’t want to hear any bullshit excuses and if I couldn’t figure out what to do about the laundry I could pack up my pickup truck and go back home to Pennsylvania.  He said he didn’t give a rat’s ass if Dee ever showed up again, it was my responsibility to get the gear cleaned.

So, I learned pretty quickly that I had a new job – the actual task of doing the laundry myself.

Dee Taylor was never seen again!

For an entire eleven-game season I did the laundry for the New Mexico State Aggies’ football team.  Every morning from late August to the weekend before Thanksgiving I was on call to do this job.

I would get up each morning around five o’clock (at times with a hangover – no, make that many times with a hangover) walk over to the stadium load the laundry into a 1956 white Chevy Apache panel truck and drive down to the laundromat.

I had to get to the laundromat before it was opened to the public because I was going to use most of the machines in the place for the team’s laundry.

The owner of the laundromat was a real nice guy and I think he realized the bad job I got put into.  He would hand me a sack of quarters and I would load the machines, set the dials put the quarters in the slots and then sit on my butt for an hour while everything got soaped and rinsed.

Then I would load everything into driers and finish up my job.  Luckily, I am an avid reader, because I spent several hours a day for an entire season sitting on some hard and uncomfortable orange plastic chairs reading and doing crossword puzzles in a downtown Las Cruces, New Mexico laundromat.

There was a benefit however.

I missed every single eight o’clock staff meeting.  It was awesome! …. Here’s why it was so great.

At the eight o’clock staff meetings all the coaches would gather in a big meeting room and discus the previous day of practice, the game plan and so on.  Then they would plan out the work and practice for that day.

But, Gil would take part of that meeting time and go around the room and basically call out each coach one by one and actually tell them they were doing shitty jobs in preparing “his” team.

Now we had a bad team – granted.  We only won two or three games that year.  But, to blame everyone around the captain of a sinking ship was ridiculous.  So, in a lot of these meetings you had to sit through stories of Gil’s great career  – winning a national championship at Northern Michigan and his other great achievements and then you had to accept what amounted to an ass chewing.

Well, I got to miss pretty much every single one of those meetings.  Perhaps laundry duty was worth the price on not getting bitched at every day.

Now, back home in PA a lot of my buddies thought I was on my way – big time coach in a major college.  Some were actually envious.  Boy, if they only knew some of the bullshit involved.  (Think about it, a lower than whale shit grad assistant coach at a losing low level major college with a jackass for a head coach!  … how great will that look on my resume?)

I still recall the last day I did my laundry job.

I call this part “The Last Ride”.

The Friday before the eleventh and final game (I think we were going to play at Southern Illinois) I did my last batch of laundry.  I loaded the many duffel bags of dirty gear into the rear of the truck.

Let me tell you a little about the 1956 Chevy Apache.  Also known as the “Laundry Wagon”.  First of all, it was 20 some years old already.  It was painted primer white.  The truck had no seats at all.  So, I took an empty five-gallon paint bucket and put a piece of carpet on top of it to make it at least somewhat comfortable for me to sit and drive.

This beauty had a three-speed manual transmission that was on the steering column.  (“Three-on-the-tree” as we called it in those days).  Luckily, I was acquainted with driving a standard shift since my own truck had one.  Of course, the clutch would slip and it was a herky-jerky effort to get the Apache moving from a stop.

The windows obviously were crank jobs and the passenger side window did not roll down at all.  But, it was only a two-mile trip from the stadium to the laundromat – so not an issue.  Someone had taped a big feather on the Chevy hood ornament (probably would piss of the PC people now days – too bad!).  Well – think … Apache.

Oh yeah – only one headlight would work and neither of the taillights had worked for years.

But, the best for last, the windshield wipers did not operate at all.  Well, living in the southwestern desert it usually only rained in the “Monsoon Season in New Mexico” (OK- look it up – there is a “Monsoon Season”) and you really didn’t need wipers.

I shit you not – that was my beautiful 1956 Apache laundry truck.  You may think I am making this up but I swear it is the truth.

So, the Friday morning – a week before Thanksgiving – Right around dawn I haul the dirty gear from the stadium locker room and load it into the back of the Apache.

The sky was just starting to brighten up and yet you could tell it was going to be overcast and rainy.  Now remember the condition of my transportation.

It’s still pretty dark, it’s raining and I was probably hung-over.

I jump into the primer white panel truck for my last ride to the laundromat.  I still remember my thoughts to this day.  I truly said this out loud that day.  “Here I am in New Mexico – big time football coach driving a panel truck full of dirty laundry with no front seat, no headlights or windshield wipers.  It’s dark and it is raining.  If my friends could see me now.”

The big time isn’t always the big time and working in Division I football isn’t always as it is portrayed.  Over the years I learned from someone else’s wisdom — never take yourself to seriously.

By the way I never saw Dee Taylor again and I would bet money he is still skating by somewhere.  But, he adds to the context and humor of this story!

Hah … what a life!

One evening I had to call my friend Bert Hill to get verification of this story.  Obviously, the stories I remember have seemed to change as I have aged.  I think they are one thing, then – I talk to someone who was also there and I realize I have forgotten some key points.

Oh well, that’s what happens – I’m sure some of my friends have experienced similar gaps in their memories.

My friend – the late great John Teerinck had a great saying – or riddle I guess you might call it.  He often would throw this teaser out there?  Where do you go during a tornado warning?

His answer – you have two choices – “The first is a strip joint, and the other is a bar!”  It was a very effective conversation starter for him.  His point being this – the places you hear about being destroyed are trailer parks, churches, schools and malls.

Do you ever hear of a strip joint or bar being wrecked?

The answer is no you don’t.

We were playing an early season game in Cincinnati.  (This is the point I had to clarify with Bert by the way – I couldn’t remember if it was pre-season or early season.  Bert also believed it was Cincinnati also not remembering the exact time of the season).  So, we win the game and we can see that there is some bad weather coming in pretty quickly.  Dark clouds surrounding the stadium.

Everyone on the team can see that this was going to be pretty bad as the skies started looking ugly and the breeze began picking up just as the game was ending.  Well, usually it takes a little time to get everyone – players, coaches out of the locker room – especially after a win.  Plus, the equipment guys have to pack up all the gear

Interestingly enough the rapidly changing weather put the guys into a fast forward mode and the team showered up relatively quickly and the equipment staff was able to load the gear and get everything organized in a pretty timely fashion.

We loaded the busses and got on the road for the relatively short trip to the airport just as the rain started up.  It really looked pretty bad, and there were some reports of tornadoes in the area.

As is normal with team travel – the busses drive directly on the tarmac to your waiting jet (rarely did we go through the terminal).  But, instead of getting off of the busses the team was told to sit tight and some of the operations people went into the terminal to find out what the status of flying out of the airport was.

Now, the weather was beginning to deteriorate pretty quickly and one end of the airport was getting darker and darker.  Well, those of us on the busses were getting a little nervous.  The busses were actually rocking with the gusts of wind.

We were getting no information from anyone (this is before cell phone days).  Finally, one of the offensive linemen got up and said “To hell with this – I’m not sitting on this tin can!”  He gets up walks to the front of the bus – well the bus driver said he couldn’t let him off.

I can tell you it isn’t smart to tell a six foot six, three-hundred-pound guy what to do…. He basically told the driver he was getting out and going into the terminal.  He opened the door himself and went into the terminal.

Right after seeing that happen we all jumped out of the busses and ran into the terminal as it  started to rain pretty hard.  There wasn’t anyone going to stop a whole professional football team from doing what they wanted at that moment.

So, anyway we get into the terminal and the place is basically shut down – no one was flying out or landing in that storm.  Well, where does everyone go?  To the nearest bar inside the place.  It was already pretty full with other waiting passengers also hoping to get out.  You can imagine how full it was when most of our guys showed up.

Of course, John Teerlinck was leading the charge at the bar.  He was two fisting his Miller Lite like the world was going to end.  He was what I considered a true professional when it came down to drinking beer.  I have seen a number of excellent beer drinkers, but “JT” is by far the best of all time.

After about twenty or thirty minutes of “stress relief” an airport public announcement was made informing everyone that a tornado had indeed touched down at the end of the runway.  Everyone was told to go to the lower level and go into the bathrooms for shelter.  Yup, sounds funny now – but there was indeed a mad rush to get downstairs into the rest rooms.

We spent probably another half an hour or so in those bathrooms – trust me there were a lot of people in those so-called shelters.  It was crowded and I think after a little while we all felt a little sheepish cowering in the basement of an airport terminal.

Funny thing I never saw JT in our area.  But, there were several bathrooms on the lower level, so he could have been in one of the other ones. But, it turns out he wasn’t.

Later when the tornado warning ended and we could board our jet I ran into John as we boarded the jet.   I asked him where he was sheltering –  he told me that he had just stayed in the bar when everyone went downstairs.

JT simply bought a few extra beers before the bartender high tailed it out of the bar himself so John just sat up there by himself drinking Miller Lite.  “Remember Donny – you never hear about a bar being destroyed by a tornado!”  The things you learn in football!

There are many things I am thankful for in football.   But there were two important things that really started me off on a good path.

First, I played for some good coaches.

In Northampton, Pennsylvania from little league on thru Freshman, Junior Varsity and finally Varsity football as a Konkrete Kid (Yeah the name of my Blog konkretekidinfootball.com – guess where that came from??!!) we had very good coaches who were also solid role models.

Then in college at Muhlenberg a very good coaching staff who helped not only me, but so many others stay on the right path (OK, admittedly I veered off that path here and there – OK, quite a lot in fact).  Frank Marino and Sam Beidelman were the only full-time coaches and they allowed us to grow up, but they kept a careful eye on us and knew when to pull the leash tight as we went through those college years.

Another big influence was that I was fortunate to start out coaching at Kutztown State College.  I was surrounded by very good coaches and we were led by one of the finest men I ever met – George Baldwin.

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The little league coaches were all good men – they taught us football from a fundamental standpoint – more importantly they were solid people.   Rich Derkits, Bill Beidleman, John Legath, Bouncy Zepp, Hosh Herschman – well even Mertz!  They gave so much more than they got back.

****Well I have to say Rich Derkits did teach me some good cuss words.  I consider myself a professional in this area and I credit him with my success.****

Even the Junior High coaches we had made the game fun.  Hell, our freshman year I don’t think we won a game (Have to check with my pal Eric Butler though because he would remember since we went through elementary, junior high and senior high school and then college playing together football together!).  We were pretty bad that ninth grade year.

Having a coach like Donnie Carbone however did make things interesting and despite our shortcomings on the field he kept things light.

Early in the season Carbone said that our team played like a bunch of Italian sailors  … “Chickens of the Sea.”  Nowadays the PC police would have probably

been bitching at him.  But in the late 60’s what we said on the field stayed there.  In fact, a bunch of us went home and took the labels off of the tuna cans in our cupboards.

We taped them on our helmets and many of the guys on the team were wearing “Charlie the Tuna” proudly.  Donnie Carbone took great delight as we proclaimed ourselves “Chickens of the Sea!”

Carbone and the rest of the coaches who worked with us younger players did prepare us in the basics of football and by the time we played for the varsity we were pretty good.  It really does come down to learning and executing fundamentals – that never changes – from little league thru college and into professional football it depends on blocking and tackling, throwing and catching, running and kicking.

Lou Wolf our varsity coach at Northampton was really a down to earth man and a very good teacher.  I know that some of the players and parents didn’t always think he was a good guy or a good coach.  But, in him I saw a man who really cared about us and who truly loved coaching.  Plus, we were very successful on the field.

I really wanted to find a job like he had – because he always seemed to be happy on the field.  Once he and I were talking after a game and he told me it was the only job he ever wanted – being the coach.  The extra bonus was being the coach in his hometown.

There was a time when I thought it would be phenomenal to be the head coach in Northampton to return to lead the Konkrete Kids.  But, as I aged I realized all of the crap you have to put up with when you were in your hometown.  Everyone knows you and certainly everyone knows how to do your job better than you do.

Sprinkle in the parents  …  yeah the parents may be the biggest drag on high school sports.  Everyone’s little Johnny or Mary is going to be a sports star.  But, I am off the track right now – plus don’t want to go down that road.

Frank Marino our head coach at Muhlenberg gave me the final push into the coaching world.  We often spent time bullshitting about our current teams, coaching philosophies and the game itself.  We would spend hours just exploring hot button topics in athletics – oh yeah – a lot of this happened while I was supposed to be in class.  (Me …. go to class … ??  Too many other fun things to do.)

****Remember what Mark Twain said (yeah, but understand I was an English major) …”Don’t let the books get in the way of your education!”****  (Honest!  I can’t make this shit up!)

Coach Marino told me one afternoon that coaching football was the only thing he ever wanted to do.  HMMM …. So much like my high school coach Lou Wolf said it was the fun part of his career – Frank was doing the same.  He told me that I should think about getting into the profession …. “you won’t make a lot of money.  But, you will make a lot of friends and find it a lot fun.”

Well, I missed a lot of classes talking about football – might as well take advantage of the things I learned in the classroom of football.  I wasn’t very smart, but I was just smart enough to stumble into an awesome (mis)adventure for life!

*****

Starting my coaching career off at Kutztown was also a very important fork in my path through the coaching profession.  The coaches and players that I worked with during those first two-years were critical in my deciding to move on and figure out my life and chase my dreams.

No one was more instrumental in my decision to make coaching my livelihood than George Baldwin the head coach of the Kutztown State (I know it’s now Kutztown University) Golden Bears.  He was an amazing man who truly was a leader of young men.

He was also a very grounded person.  Married with children, religious and a former US Marine.  Yup, he sported the GI flattop and stood ramrod straight at the playing of the National Anthem.  I truly admire this man and his values to this day.

Well then of course, he did convince me to work for twoyears without pay (well, he hoodwinked one of my closest friends –  Scot Dapp to do it as well – he’s not real smart either.)  But, it was well worth the experience.

Rarely, if ever did George lose his temper.  He never swore (I mean never!) and although he had some old-fashioned ideas for the late seventies – he had the respect of everyone.   From players to coaches, administrators, opponents and boosters – I rarely if ever heard anyone say a bad work about Coach Baldwin.

We were in a period where earrings, facial hair and young people questioning authority and experimenting with drugs had become the norm.  During those years – the seventies – well it was a very interesting time.

I was pretty much a middle of the road guy – Long hair, mustache.  But Coach had his values and he was sticking to them.

While George was willing to accept his players and coaches having a few beers and raising some hell – he would not suffer fools.  But, while he could be tough it was his complete honesty and sincerity that affected us all so deeply.

Like most successful leaders George had very few rules.  Pretty much common-sense stuff.  Don’t be late for anything, respect your coaches, teammates, classmates and teachers.  BUT WAIT and no earrings or facial hair for anyone with Kutztown football – players but us COACHES as well.

What did you say – no facial hair??  No earrings??  Yup, if you wanted to coach or play at Kutztown State (OK – Kutztown University) you were going to look clean and didn’t need jewelry.  Come on it’s the seventies! (You know … Sex Drugs and rock and roll – throw in some mustaches and earrings as well.)

The seventies – the decade of rebellion and awareness!  The Age of Aquarius!  Pass the joint and let’s hear about that sexual awaking we all were waiting (hoping) for.

But George, who as I said  was a former Marine complete with crew cut, was able to impress his values upon all of us.  He was able to bring everyone together – to not only have a common goal of winning – but to become as close to a unit as possible.

Coach would say he wanted us to be “Americans!”

When anyone would question why he wanted these things done he would say ….  “I don’t get it, does that mustache make you coach or play any better?”  “Is that earring going to make you tackle those backs any better?”

Football is American – you don’t need mustaches or earrings to be an American!

But we all bought in – I shaved off my mustache (never wore an earring so it wasn’t an issue).  Got cleaned up and was a Golden Bear!  I was an American!

To this day those of us who coached and/or for George still tell Coach Baldwin stories.  Stories that reflect how much respect and love we had for this great man and his standard of becoming an “American!”

Being that former Marine (still with that flat top look) George would continuously regal us with quotes like.  “That guy plays like an American – look at him block”  “That Quarterback throws the ball like an American!”  He would see a guy loafing or laying on the ground during a play and not hustling – “That guy is not an American – he’s staying on the ground!”

The one I caught him on was “Well gosh darn it – Any American can tackle!”  “Come on if you are an American you can tackle!”

So, one of my favorite experiences as a young coach with George was when I pulled the old “He’s an American” and reversed it on him.  It got a lot of chuckles from the entire coaching staff when it happened.

We were closing out our season in my first year as a coach.  Coach Baldwin had put me in charge of kickoff team for that year.

Now, if you were on the kickoff team in those days – you were coached to stay in your “lane” run down the field as fast as possible and tackle the guy with the coconut.  Not a difficult assignment – but to get it done meant you had to navigate the opponents who were trying to knock your head off along the way.

One of the keys to the kickoff team was having a good kicker who could put the ball deep and high so the coverage team could run down under it and get the return man on the ground.  The other is to have some pretty rugged dudes who would run down the field full speed!  The bigger and faster the better.

Like I said it was one of the last games of the year – perhaps even the last game.  We had lost a key guy on the kickoff coverage team and we needed a replacement.  So, as a staff we were kicking (hmmm…no pun intended I guess) around a few names – trying to find someone who could help the kickoff team.

Now we had a freshman offensive lineman named Jimmy Bennett.  Jim was a local kid from Allentown PA who had played at William Allen High School.  He was a backup at guard and he would go on to be a great player at Kutztown before his career was over.

Jim was big at 6-3 and 235 pounds and he could really run … OK I get it, he doesn’t seem big by today’s standards … but in 1977 he was a pretty big dude.  He was also really fast and he was very tough.  I loved him and where he was going!

In the meeting when we talked about the kickoff coverage team I brought up Jimmy’s name.  I think everyone pretty much thought it was a pretty good idea.  But George did not agree.

“But Donnie … I like Jimmy Bennett a lot.  But come on he is a freshman (George did not like to play freshman) and he is an offensive lineman.  I don’t know if he can tackle … he’s an offensive lineman.”

I knew I had him, with a grin I said …  “But Coach he’s an American.  Everyone knows if he’s an American he can tackle.”

The whole room cracked up and George just started laughing and I had him.  Jimmy was now a member of the kickoff team.

By the way he did a great job!

Sorry a long and winding road (wow, that might be a good name for a song??) to tell you a simple and probably silly story!

 

 

I Remember 1991 as a magic season in Detroit.  The Lions went 12-4 during the regular season and won the old NFC Central Division championship on the last day of the regular season. (Yes, for you youngsters there was a Central Division way before the NFL got creative and decided to add teams along the way and create four four-team divisions in each conference.)

It was also the season when the Lions won their first playoff game (after a first round bye) since they had captured the NFL championship in 1957.  Thirty-four years of playoff misery came to an end with a decisive win over the Cowboys in the friendly confines of the Silverdome in front of almost eighty thousand seriously excited – and I mean SERIOUSLY EXCITED and extremely loud fans.

That day was just an amazing connection between the Lions and their hungry fans.  The “Horror Dome” was a madhouse throughout the entire the game with a noise level that made it impossible to hear on the playing field.

Erik Kramer was our quarterback and had a fantastic game.  I am pretty sure he completed something like thirteen straight passes and absolutely took apart the Dallas secondary.  Things fell into place and we were able to simply outplay and handily defeat Dallas 38-6.

But, Erik Kramer wasn’t always our starter that season – in fact I don’t think anyone besides our scouting department even knew who he was as we started training camp in 1991.

I distinctly remember asking our Pro Bowl linebacker Chris Spielman who the new quarterback was in camp.  He shrugged his shoulders “Some guy from Canada”.

Kramer’s only NFL experience was during the strike games of the 1987 season where he played for Atlanta – he was then cut by the Falcons and headed north for three seasons in the Canadian Football League.

Originally, he had been brought in to be a “camp thrower” and save the arms of quarterback’s Rodney Peete and former Heisman Trophy winner Andre Ware.  But, like I said ’91 was a strange year.

Rodney was clearly the number one QB as we emerged from the preseason and Erik had surprisingly showed he was a better backup than former first round pick  Andre Ware.

So Rodney had secured himself as the starter with Erik clearly his backup.   Andre was the third option as he struggled with accuracy in the four preseason games.  This problem would plague him his  entire career.  Despite Andre’s awesome athletic prowess and his intelligence there were some red flags beginning to show up on his chances to  be an NFL quarterback.

Now the regular season was indeed a remarkable one for the Lions.  But, it was also a really weird one as well.  We opened up by getting absolutely blasted in RFK Stadium by the team now known as the Washington Football Team or whatever they are going to be called.

But then they were the Redskins and they handed us a big fat goose egg 45-0 to start our year off.

It was downright embarrassing and I especially remember the flight back to Detroit was just silent and pretty much like a morgue.  Not the usual buzz about the game that is always in the air after you play win or lose  – not even the ever present card games.

Just a few of the guys drinking  some beer (yup, we had beer post game on the planes in those days).  Absolute silence.  The team was shocked at how we were so easily beaten.

Just a bunch of battered, frustrated and bewildered players and coaches.  It was a painfully dismal trip home.   Soon to see the TV sports, listen to the radio or read the papers on what a piss poor operation we ran and that we should all understand that everyone in Detroit would happily run us out of town.

Even the irrepressible Wayne Fontes our head coach was despondent.  I tried to give him a little boost the next morning as he and I sat in his dark office by reminding him that Barry Sanders hadn’t played at all.  (Barry had some bruised ribs or something that was just serious enough to keep him on the sidelines.)

At least maybe he would serve to wake up the usually overly optimistic Wayne from his funk.  But, not even that could get him jump started.

“Clem  … a fucking shutout.  You know hard it is to be shut out in the National Football League … a fucking shutout.”

Well I did spend 27 years in the NFL and I do know hard it is to get a shutout or to be shutout.  Those guys running around out there on Sunday’s are all extremely talented men.  It is not only hard to get shutout – it is almost impossible.

But, the show must go on and we had fifteen more games to go.  Well, I was a little depressed myself.  All of us coaches were on the last year of our contracts and that meant job searching if our season continued to slide and we all got fired.  Ahhh  … the NFL can be such a fun place.

OK, I am getting off the track here and need to get to the point of this episode of football (mis)adventures.

Well, we end up winning the next two games beating the Packers and Miami at home and were set to head to Indianapolis for a game that was certainly winnable.

The defense was playing very well holding Green Bay and the Dolphins both to under 100-yards rushing and Rodney Peete was on fire at quarterback.  Barry was back and he was his usual amazing self as he ran for something like 150 in our third game.  Even Jim Arnold our punter ran for 20 yards (that was scary) on a botched kick.   We actually looked pretty damn good despite the close scores.

Optimism had returned to the Lion team and we had played reasonably well in the Indianapolis game staking ourselves to a 16-10 lead in the third quarter.  But, then the fan hit the shit.  (Come on just reverse the words).

As we were driving  Rodney goes down at QB.  (SHIT!) The injury didn’t look too bad from where I was sitting in the coaching booth – but losing our starting QB with an unknown Erik Kramer having to now run our offense.  Ahh … not so good!

The coaches and players (from both teams) and everyone else in the entire free world knew that we would just hand the ball off the Barry a few times – get out of the series and see if we could get Rodney back for the rest of the game.

Yeah, well Kramer had some ideas of his own.  The very first play  … yes, the first one and not the second or third one … but the very damn first play he is in the game – Erik audibles!

It is his first REAL NFL game .. on his FIRST PLAY in his first REAL NFL game … HE AUDIBLES!

Every single person in the coaching booth in unison yells “NOOOOO”  There were also a few “What the fuck are you doing?”  I’m sure the Detroit Lion sideline was stunned and screaming as well.

Erik checks off and calmly fires a beautiful 15-yard pass to Willie Green (I think it was Willie) for a first down!

Every single “NOOOOO”, every single “You fucking idiot” turned into “OOOHHH YEAAAHHH” and to “you fucking genius.”  What a play.

Now we all laugh about it to this day, but trust me when you can see your house payment flying away just as that ball is thrown.  It really isn’t one of those great moments.

Later in the drive Erik hits Willie Green for a TD (and now we all love him!)  Rodney later returns to the game – Eric to the bench and the Lions go on to win their third straight game and the NFL begins to take notice of Wayne and the boys.

Oh yeah, I forgot Erik also picked up a nickname that day.  The players began calling him “Brass.”

Silly, dumbass me once asked Lomas Brown our Pro Bowl left tackle why call him “Brass?”  Lomas shook his head and said – because that man has “Brass Balls!”  I guess after that audible and throw that nickname is certainly warranted!

Well from there we go on to win another two in a row for a five-game winning streak.  But, then we had to go out to Candlestick and play the 49’ers.  But, that story is for another day.

 

 

Now, I have been asked this question so many times that I have an automatic answer.  “Hey, so Clemons how in the world did you get associated with football in Switzerland?”  My go-to response is – “well, it’s easy … a friend of a friend got me in touch with his friend and voila – I am suddenly part of the football program in Switzerland!”

That is actually really true.  I would imagine in many businesses this is how it works.  Someone has a spot open and is looking for a particular fit and they seek out help from their associates.  Well, why wouldn’t you do that?

***OK – so you know me – I am going to wander around as I tell a story – and this one does require a little slip sliding along.***

But, it actually started at Judy Kowalkowski’s (good Irish name – right??) wine tasting and Italian food extravaganza which she holds every Summer.  It is a fantastic gathering of former and current Lion employees and friends of her family.  Honestly it is an awesome night!

So, the Kowalkowski name is legendary in Detroit Lion lore.  Judy’s husband the late Bob Kowalkowski played guard eleven years with the Lions and one with the Packers.  Their son Scott played linebacker on a National Championship team at Notre Dame and then ten years in the NFL (nine with the Lions!)

Judy worked in the front office and probably held every job that the club ever had.  Her range of abilities were so wide and varied she could do almost anything – and she did!  One of the most valued employees the Lions have ever seen.

But, it doesn’t end there …  Judy’s brother David Olivo was a great HS football coach in Missouri.  His son Brock was a tremendous football player at Missouri where he held the rushing and scoring records for many years.  He also went on to play alongside Scott for several years in Detroit..

A family affair!

So now you can see Judy Kowalkowski is actually an Olivo by birth – married into a Polish family.  Therefore the “Kowalkowski wine tasting and Italian Food Fest!”

So, now you kind of get it ….

Anyway, one summer night several years ago I was at Judy’s party visiting with many old Lion friends from the office, Scott and his fantastic wife Michelle, Judy, the Lesnau’s, the Saliba’s and Kimball’s.  “Machine Gun” Frank Novak (one of the finest special team’s coaches that ever worked in the NFL) and his wife Suzanne were also there.

Obviously talk turns to football – imagine that??!!  We all talk about what is going on and everyone knows that after I left the rat race that is the NFL I started to coach back in PA at Moravian College because my younger boy went there.

Also I am from the Lehigh Valley where Moravian is located (Bethlehem PA).  I mentioned to our group as we are drinking beer – yeah imagine that –  and wine that I thought it might be pretty cool to coach in Europe.

Well when Brock Olivo retired he went to Italy and got his Master’s Degree there because he is fluent in Italian … He started a team and coached there for several years.

His Dad was going to coach there and suddenly all of these guys are leaning on me and telling me I need to get my ass over there and coach (You know John Grisham’s “Playing For Pizza”  …Well “Coaching for Pizza”).

****Aside here – if you haven’t read “Playing For Pizza” you should because … well just because it is very similar to what I am experiencing – but fast forward twenty years into the future!****

So, the night wears on and the guys keep telling me over many more beers that I need to look into coaching in Europe.  Well … why not I guess??

On the way home the Boss (Wife) weighs in and tells me that she thinks I should look into it.  Yeah OK – She’s trying to get rid of me for a while.  I get it (don’t blame her either).

A week or so later I am talking to my compadre in coaching Bert Hill who was coaching the defensive line at SMU in Dallas.  I told him that there were people encouraging me to go to Europe to coach football.  He laughs and says basically good luck with that BS.

Now, realize aside from being really good pals – Bert and I coached together for ten years – so we have some real common ground (and beers in common as well)!

So some time goes by and I get a call from Bertie.  He tells me that he got into a conversation with coach on the SMU staff who not only coached in Europe … but he played there as well.  Carlos Barocio-Leon is well connected everywhere and he says … hey wait a minute – I might be able to HELP this Clemons guy out.

I don’t even know Carlos!

****OK sorry another aside here.  Carlos is a legend in Europe.  He coached and won two  “Eurobowl” Championships.  His overall record in eight European seasons was 74-16.  I don’t care where you are coaching that is pretty damn good.  OK he is pretty smart as well.  BA and MBA from New Mexico State – where I once coached by the way – and fluent in English, Spanish, French and German.  Yeah he carries some weight when he talks. ****

HELP me out …HELP me out??? He lined me up with one of the best opportunities you could want.

Carlos talked with a friend in Switzerland – Giorgio Volpi who was looking for some help with the Swiss National Team as they prepared for the European Playoffs.  The next thing I know I get some E-mails from this country located in the Alps!

Giorgio asks if I would be willing to talk with  him, Head Coach Michel Spitznagel, Stephan Pulver, and the General Manager Christian Krattiger on a Skype call.  Are you shitting me – what do I have to lose. (At that point never been on a Skype call by the way.)

We set up the Skype and like magic I am not only talking to these dudes … but seeing them as well.  They are interested in having me come over for a few weeks and help the team and also to travel to Amsterdam with the team to play two games.  To this point never been a big travel guy myself … but, it is damn interesting.

As we talk (in English by the way) I inform them that I know no Swiss at all.  This elicits laughs all around and Giorgio informs me there is no real “Swiss” language.  Pretty much everyone speaks German, French and Italian (Some remote areas speak a form of Latin called Romansh).  But, he assures me that English is everywhere and a common thread between the people of Switzerland.

I also told them that driving on the opposite side of the road  has no appeal to me.  More laughs – I am told the only place they drive on the left are the UK based countries including England, Ireland Australia, New Zealand etc.  So to this point they are probably wondering why do we need this uninformed idiot helping us?

But, whatever happened after the meeting the next thing I know I am part of the Swiss National Coaching staff for the under 19 team.  (By the way they give me this picture ID which is on a lanyard.  You have to wear it everywhere in the stadium.  The picture lists me as Ass. Coach.  So, to this day my Swiss friends still call me the “Ass” coach.)

Hmmm – rightly so.

So. after a party with friends (Kowalkowski’s et al.) … a friend (Bert) connects me with his friend (Carlos) who mentions me to his friend (Giorgio) who sets up a skype with his friends (Chris and Michel and Stephan).

No real connections but…….

Now, I come to Europe regularly because of those friends and continue to meet hundreds more.  Yup, that’s how it started!

 

 

A few days ago I knew that I was going to have pretty much an entire day to myself, so I decided to try my new train pass out.  I love the train system here in Switzerland (also a big fan of their entire public transit system).  The US could learn a lot about mass transit by studying how it is done in my second homeland.

My friend Dan Frey the past president of the Tigers had arranged for me to have a special travel pass for bus, train and boat.  Well, to me it was better than having a car which they were going to get me.  Hell, I don’t like driving at home.  Me, behind the wheel in a foreign country – not going to happen.

Well, I figured by train – I could go to Bern which would be fun because I have stayed there two different times and I know the city and love “Old Town”.   Or I could take the hour trip to Interlaken and visit another place that I have been on previous trips.

I flipped a coin in my mind (yeah, I know how do you flip a coin in your mind?).  So, Interlaken won.  OK I just wanted to go that way I guess.

I hopped on the #1 bus at the Gwatt Deltapark Stop (My friend Pascal was driving … I’m even making friends with the bus drivers! – friends will become voters when I run for Mayor of Gwatt!) and travel down to the Thun Bahnhof to see about a train to Interlaken.

If you get frustrated with all of my parenthetical phrases – just skip them.  (I just can’t help myself.  Hah!  Got you)

Now honestly, I was having some questions about this travel pass.  A few weeks earlier I had to go into the train station to get my picture taken for this voucher.  The official taking my picture was a very friendly guy who said – you’ll love this credential because all of your train rides are half price … he didn’t know about the bus.

After my ten-minute ride with Pascal on Bus #1 I jump off the yellow transport – stroll into the Bahnhof – walk up to the ticket window.  Tell the gentleman behind the glass I wanted a round trip ticket to Interlaken.  I give him my special SwissPass photo identification – he squints, looks at it, shakes his head and charges me like 17 Swiss Francs.  

I know the roundtrip would cost every Tom, Dick and Harry (US phrase to my Swiss friends) the same 17 CHF. What gives – I get no discount?

I tell him that I thought this super-duper, over the top, fantabulous plastic credit card looking thing with my old looking picture on it gave me like superpowers – and at the very least a half-price ticket.

He shrugged but then started typing into his computer.  Squints again (I think he needs glasses, but he had them on his head and not eyes), looks perplexed.  Types some more – sits up straight and looks at me in wonderment.  “You can ride anywhere you want for free – you need no ticket.”  

So, obviously no one knows how this pass works.  I’ve even looked on line for information.  Trust me whoever wrote up the SwissPass section of their travel brochure – made things even more confusing … this thing was as clear as mud. 

So naturally I figure that the conductor on the train was certainly going to clean this situation up.  He would either accept this card and tell me that I indeed have the superpowers I do so deserve or he would toss me off the train.

Well – let me put all of this on hold and let me tell my US friends something so cool about Switzerland.  You can walk into a local store attached to the Bahnhof and by a cold beer in a can (no bag needed like in US). Then you can get on a bus, train or simply walk around the streets and drink it.  That would just shatter our reality in the states.

In fact you can buy beer from a vending machine as well  … I know, simply amazing!

My God – that would just shake our world.  In fact, the passengers in a car can drink.  Yet, I guarantee they have far less problems than we find in the US!  Not advocating this – just presenting a point.

OK I buy a big Heineken beer (see photo in collection below) for the ride to Interlaken.  I figure at least if I get “86ed” off the train (US phrase for “kicked off” the train) by the conductor I’d have a beer in hand.

We board up … go all the way to Interlaken and NO CONDUCTOR!?!  Hell, they always walk through all the cars and check the tickets.  Not this time Batman!

So, I get off the train and wander around Interlaken.  Even though I already know it is a tourist trap it really isn’t crowded so I just shuffle along looking at shops.  Stop, sit down for a beer at an outdoor café.  It’s a pleasant afternoon – just having fun snapping pictures and enjoying the scenery.

By the way there is a Hooter’s in Interlaken (see pictures).  Been there before with the boss (wife) a few years ago when we were here.  I do have to tell you that this one could not hold a candle to any I have been in back home (trust me I have been to a few by the way).

I am not talking about the waitress’ outfits.  I am talking about the food.  If you boycott Hooters on your principles I have no qualms about that.  But, I am boycotting Hooters Interlaken because their food is not real good.  In the US those wings at Hooters are damn good.

Now as I decide it is time to go home.  The true test of the SwissPass card might be brought to light.  

I walk into the ticket office and ask the young lady if I could have a one-way ticket to Thun.  After handing her my fancy superpower photo ID with secret codes and computer lines and data I might learn even more.

She doesn’t blanch, squint or scratch her head.  She simply types a few keystrokes on her keyboard.  Sees the info on her screen – hands me my card back.  “Yes, just like I thought … you need no ticket and ride is always free until November.”

I sidestep into another little store attached to their train station.  Buy another Heineken.  (What the heck right??)  Hop onto the train for the return trip to Thun.  Should be interesting – but, well will there be a Conductor for this trip.  Who knows??  At least I have my Heineken right?

By the way almost every trip by train in Switzerland can be breathtaking.  Unbelievable scenery.

OK, we pass a few stops … here comes the Conductor.  He checks the people sitting in the rows in front of me.  Gets to me, mask on… beer in hand.  

A second of me feeling some panic as he pulls out his special gizmo to check tickets.  Runs it over the card.  

I hold my breath…. He looks at me says “Merci”  with a smile and walks on down the aisle to the next passenger….I crack the Heineken and once again I realize “Once again the world is spinning in greased grooves!”

Billy Jim Baker wrote a song that Jerry Jeff Walker recorded called “Contrary to Ordinary.”  Billy Jim, by the way, is a professional clown and a member of the Clown Hall of Fame. 

Baker was a friend of the late Jerry Jeff and actually once convinced him to work at a circus with him.  A picture of Walker in full clown regalia can be seen on the back of album he made by the same name “Contrary to Ordinary.”

Anyway, some of the lyrics that Billy Jim wrote and Jerry Jeff recorded (yeah, I know Billy Jim and Jerry Jeff – who he affectionately called Jacky Jack – the names can make your mind spin) are the inspiration for this collection of things that happened as I stumbled through life.

This journal is just that – a collection of stories – or (mis)adventures as I say.  They aren’t anything special in the scope of the real world as it is.  However, here they are for those who want to see them.

Really, they aren’t stories as much as episodes that have played out throughout my life.  Stealing from Billy Jim’s writing and Jerry Jeff’s singing comes Joe Don Clemons’ (mis)adventures in football – the greatest team game in the world.

Some lines from Billy Jim’s writing and Jerry Jeff’s singing:

                        And I was contrary to ordinary
                                    Even as a child
                        Fast freights made me wonder
                        The full moon still drives me wild
                                    And stories do come true
                        You just got to live your life in episodes
                                    With one eye on a lady
                        And one eye still on that open road

I hope you like some of them.  Like my close friend Bert Hill says they are true (well mostly), but … well life still is “stranger than fiction!”

“Stranger than fiction” …. Bert Hill

Barry Sanders’ rookie season was an amazing opening act for what would become a Hall of Fame career.  It was really just a preview.  1989 was simply a glimpse of how amazing a course he would set.  But, not only did he show us his enormous talent, he gave us a pretty clear picture of who he was as a man.

First of all, like many very high draft picks in the pre-free agency era, he held out at the beginning of training camp.  In fact, he held out the entire training camp … every single practice, meeting, get together – never to be seen by anyone in the Lions organization.

He finally reported the Wednesday or Thursday before the opening game in 1989.  Obviously, his appearance was met with great anticipation.  Now, undoubtedly there were a lot of people – including teammates and coaches who viewed his holdout as normal, but by waiting until the very end of camp it also had some of the people wondering if he was really worth all of this attention. 

What would he become – a great one, some mediocre overpaid player or maybe even a first round flop?  

Well, by the end of the season and during the last game of 1989 we had a pretty good idea that the Lions had captured lightning in a bottle. On the final Sunday of the season on a day that produced a steady, cold drizzle in Atlanta we realized that the Lions had selected one of the best players football had ever seen.

In that last game in Fulton County Stadium we also got a pretty good idea of what a fine person we had in our locker room.  Not only did the Lions have a fantastic player, but a humble young man who was not going to be a statistic driven, self-centered braggart like so many other great athletes are.

To set the stage – Barry had played only about a quarter in the opening game, he then missed the next game with a rib injury.  Yet, despite having played less games and having 100 fewer attempts than his rival runners he still was in a tight race for the NFL rushing leadership on the final day of the season.  

He and Christian Okoye of the Kansas City Chiefs had staged a nip and tuck weekly battle for the lead during the last month of the schedule.  Well on the last Sunday of the season the Chiefs were playing at the same time as the Lions.

So, on the final game day of the season we were all watching not only our game – but, we were also keeping an eye on the TV monitor in our coaching booth to see how the two running greats were doing comparatively.

Well, as the game was winding down the Lions had sewed up the victory and now our true attention turned to what Okoye was doing in the KC game.  As it turned out as the Chiefs completed their game we still had about five minutes or so to play.

The final tally in the Chiefs game had Okoye leading Barry in rushing yardage by about ten yards or so.  But, there was plenty of time for Barry to win the rushing title since we did have the ball.  

The problem was that Barry was now on the bench and Tony Paige was getting the workload as our halfback while we were running out the clock.

Wayne Fontes our head coach had called up to the coaching booth and asked how many yards Barry needed to gain to take the lead.  We told him that if Barry ran the ball a few times he would easily gain ten yards and take home the rushing crown.

This is no disrespect to the Falcons – it’s just that when Barry gets his focus on something – well, he is always great – but when he “zeros in” he is nothing short of amazing.

Wayne – says to us that he is going to put Barry back in the game so that he can get the honor of leading the NFL in rushing in his rookie year.  

Wayne approached Barry on the bench and tells him that he only needs a few more carries to win the rushing championship.  He asked him to go in and run “31 and 32”  (obviously two of our running plays) a few times to gain the necessary yardage.  

I heard it with my own ears through Wayne’s headset.  Barry said something to the effect.  “Look coach – let Tony Page run 31 and 32 a few times – we already won the game.  Let Tony play he deserves it.  I’m done for the day unless you really want me to go back in.”

Amazing that someone who had a chance at earning this fantastic honor through his efforts for an entire season just steps back.   He was happy to watch his teammates like Tony Page have a chance to shine a little themselves.

By the way, he had slipped his shoes off on the bench after he came out of the game.  Pretty much letting everyone around him know he was done for the day and running for a few more yards – not that important.  

Just another thing to cement the legend of Barry Sanders!

Early Trip to Basel

Today we open the season with a trip to Basel to play the Gladiators.  From what I

understand it is about a two-hour bus ride.  From what I am seeing this should be a good test for our team.  The game should be a solid measurement of what type of squad we have and what we need to work on to improve for the future.

Basel is located in northwestern Switzerland along the River Rhine and the city is on the French and German Border.  It is the third largest city in Switzerland (following Zurich and Geneva) with a population of around 200,000.

The city has forty or so museums – which makes this area one of the largest cultural areas per capita in all or Europe.  Basel is home to Kuntsmuseum which was the first collection of art in the world (1661) and the largest museum of art in Switzerland.  Also located there are the Foundation Beyeler and the Museum of Contemporary Art (Basel).

Obviously, this place is noted for its great devotion to the arts.  Well, I am not sure if football is considered art.  So at some point I will have to make a trip on my own to take a look at the place.  Well hell I was an art major right … well I guess Liberal Arts major might be actually what I was – probably not art major I guess.

But, then I hear that there is this great thing called the Basler Fascnacht.  Apparently, this is a pretty wild three day affair that starts early in the morning of the Monday following Ash Wednesday with masked revelers and musicians parading through old town.  Sounds like a winner to me.

Speaking of Holidays it sounds like Christmas is well celebrated as well!  Many Christmas trees line the streets with the large market especially popular during the Holiday season.

Also, it sounds like there are other great buildings such as the Town Hall (Rathaus) and the Basel Cathedral which looks out over the Rhine from the Pfalz (a terrace).

Sounds like it may be worth visiting to me!