As a good number of you know already, especially if you live within a 75-mile radius of Candlestick, Bill Walsh died yesterday. For the average person, his death probably rates an “eh,” compared with Bergman, Antonioni, and even good ol’ Tammy Faye. But if you’re a 49ers fan(atic), Walsh’s death is the coda to the end of an era. It was an era that brought us Joe Montana, Steve Young, Jerry Rice, Ronnie Lott, Dwight Clark, and many, many others. The 49ers dominated the 1980’s thanks both to the talented coach and his equally talented players. We fans (and the team) were fortunate to have another good coach in the person of George Seifert step in as successor, but for the 49ers, the 1980s are synonymous with Walsh.

Godspeed, Coach Walsh. You’ll be missed.

[I know I’ve been MIA lately, but I plan to rectify that in the next few days, if I can. We’ll see how well I hold up that promise…]

One of the most hallowed sports days on the calendar has nearly passed. I spent the majority of the day hanging out at a Super Bowl Party, complete with betting (I lost a grand total of $5; boo hoo me, right?), food, conversation, and in the background, a game. Since my beloved 49ers were nowhere near the playoffs this year, despite whatever Nolan might have said mid-season, I didn’t have much invested in this year’s game. I was pulling for the Seahawks, as were approximately 85% of the partygoers. The highlight of the afternoon, other than tasty subs and new friends, was seeing a budding movie star narrowly escape death for his proclaimed support for the Steelers. Unfortunately for the 12th Man, Seattle went down to defeat in a game marked by lots of defense and not as many great offensive plays or action as one might wish, with the possible exception of Parker’s 75-yard touchdown for the Steelers– we all definitely caught that one, as one person’s whiplash caused a lemming effect and our eyes were temporarily glued to the screen before going back to the more important task of conversation. I swear, put more than two Deaf people together in a room, you don’t need to do anything else. Also, have you ever noticed how Deaf people not only gather in the kitchen, but also in doorways? You’d think if you wanted a smooth flow in your chat without any breaks or interruptions, you’d move somewhere else in the room, away from halls and entrances.

I managed to snag a good spot, and enjoyed the company of friends, old and new. I hope wherever you were today, watching the game or not, you had a good weekend, and you’re all now ready to face the workweek ahead!

There’s quite a bit in the news today other than sports, including the continued unrest over the controversial cartoons published in Denmark. But it’s kind of late, so I’ll take that up tomorrow. In the meantime, in the spirit of Letterman, here’s something for you I found online to muse over in anticipation of tomorrow’s post. Made me think even as I chuckled…

Top Ten Signs You’re a Christian

10 - You vigorously deny the existence of thousands of gods claimed by other religions, but feel outraged when someone denies the existence of your god.

9 - You feel insulted and “dehumanized” when scientists say that people evolved from lesser life forms, but you have no problem with the Biblical claim that we were created from dirt.

8 - You laugh at polytheists, but you have no problem believing in a Trinity god.

7 - Your face turns purple when you hear of the “atrocities” attributed to Allah, but you don’t even flinch when hearing about how God/Jehovah slaughtered all the babies of Egypt in “Exodus” and ordered the elimination of entire ethnic groups in “Joshua” — including women, children, and trees!

6 - You laugh at Hindu beliefs that deify humans, and Greek claims about gods sleeping with women, but you have no problem believing that the Holy Spirit impregnated Mary, who then gave birth to a man-god who got killed, came back to life and then ascended into the sky.

5 - You are willing to spend your life looking for little loop-holes in the scientifically established age of the Earth (4.55 billion years), but you find nothing wrong with believing dates recorded by pre-historic tribesmen sitting in their tents and guessing that the Earth is a couple of generations old.

4 - You believe that the entire population of this planet with the exception of those who share your beliefs — though excluding those in all rival sects — will spend Eternity in an infinite Hell of Suffering. And yet you consider your religion the most “tolerant” and “loving”.

3 - While modern science, history, geology, biology, and physics have failed to convince you otherwise, some idiot rolling around on the floor speaking in “tongues” may be all the evidence you need to prove Christianity.

2 - You define 0.01% as a “high success rate” when it comes to answered prayers. You consider that to be evidence that prayer works. And you think that the remaining 99.99% FAILURE was simply the will of God.

1 - You actually know a lot less than many Atheists and Agnostics do about the Bible, Christianity, and church history — but still call yourself a Christian.

I grew up in a somewhat rural area, but not too far from my parents’ house is a park that had a disc golf course. Being young and naive, I simply assumed that it was sorta like golf, that you could just use a regular frisbee, and follow the course as if it was akin to the links. Just toss, pick up, toss again, pick up, toss into the “hole,” and move on to the next hole. I did this for several years, blithely going along my merry way.

Wrong me… Disc golf, or Folf as some like to call it, is definitely a sport, with tons of courses all over the country, and a devoted following that grows year by year. I discovered the errors of my ways recently, when a new acquaintance revealed he played disc golf.

“Me too!” I exclaimed enthusiastically. “Maybe we can play sometime.”

Turns out he’s part of a deaf disc golf group here in Southern California- and usually went to practice/play at the course at Huntington Beach. Well, if you’ve been following this blog with any regularity and you have any idea of what L.A. is like, you’ve probably picked up on the clues and deduced that I live *nowhere* near Huntington Beach. The way gas prices are these days, I’d like to go somewhere a little closer than that, if possible. He mentioned a course in Sylmar. Ok, a bit closer, but still not exactly down the block. Then, as we discussed the deaf disc golf association, a new course in Manhattan Beach was mentioned. Ok, that I can definitely do! So we made plans to get together for a game yesterday.

I showed up a little bit ahead of time (surprised, people??), parked my car, hauled out my old, trusty frisbee, and waited. I watched a group of teens and young adults make the circuit, and they all seemed to have these cool-looking flat sort of discs. Hmmm… Not sure if I fit in– older guy, greying, not exactly lean and trim, with a… frisbee. Ok, whatever.

After a short time, my friend appeared, hauling a bag on his shoulder. I hailed him, explained I’d been figuring out the course, and showed him my frisbee. I was met with something somewhat in the neighborhood of a snort, with a hint of a gasp, and definitely a healthy heaping of pity, along with a definite chuckle.

“Um, that’s a beach frisbee. We don’t use that here.”

“We don’t? I used to play with this all the time back home.”

“No, no, that’s no good. You need something like this.” And with that, he lowered his bag, unzipped the cover, and took out several discs. Ok, I’m definitely not fitting in here…

Within a few minutes, I got a crash course in what disc golf is all about. Beach frisbees definitely brand one as a) complete novice, b) a fool, and c) in the wrong place with the wrong equipment. I learned that discs have different functions (some are best for long-range, some are all-around discs and good for medium distances, while some are great for putting and short tosses), and have different weight, diameter, and rims. My new teacher graciously loaned me a couple of discs that were a tad more appropriate for the course. We circled about and after asking a park employee, found the first tee.

Just seconds later, we were approached by a hearing guy, probably in his early 20s, who asked if he could join us. My friend said it was fine, and explained to me that that was normal to join a group; I had no problem either, figuring now I’d have two people to observe. I sheepishly explained it was my first day. I was assured that it wasn’t any problem.

We set out, and both of my companions offered suggestions, tips, and corrections throughout. The big surprise came on the third tee; It was a long section, with a shallow depression curving upward into a hill, with the basket on the far side. There were trees, shrubs and the like surrounding the tee itself. We stepped back to let our hearing player take his turn. As he aimed, stepped forward, and followed through, we watched his disc soar through the air, hit a tree, bank to the right, and… a hole in one. As my friend said, holy shit.

No way am I competing with these guys! Both of them were quite good. I simply concentrated on learning proper form, getting a feel for the discs and their use, and enjoying a pleasant day (the park where the course is is maybe two or three miles, if that, from the ocean, so it was a comfortable environment on a very pleasant late summer afternoon).

After completing the course, our hearing companion spotted a group that he usually played with, excused himself, and left. We decided to continue and play one more round– partly because we were having so much fun, partly because of rush-hour traffic — no need to hop in the car! Why bother? Let the peons enjoy the bumper-to-bumper atmosphere, while we soak up the rays and get a little exercise. I improved somewhat over the second set, and definitely gained an appreciation for what I initially thought was a fun game, but is actually a sport.

Once we hit the final hole, we decided to take off, stopping first for a quick bite on the way. My friend was kind enough to give me a few of his discs so I could practice on my own as well as have them for future games. A very generous gift! I left after the meal knowing I now had a new pastime to pursue.

Today my shoulder is a bit sore– I hadn’t felt anything different yesterday, but obviously the repitition took its toll. Still, I’ll be headed back to Manhattan Beach, along with other courses, to practice. But don’t expect to see me entered in any tourneys soon!