heaven and misery came walking on by
underneath, my weary soul kept trying to deny.
yesterday's thoughts kept showing up today
never could forget the smile, the one that Juliet gave away
her life's story buried beneath the chasms below
vindicated, her tears resonate as an angelic echo
alas, smiles and tears caress the lonesome night.
now the melody ends as emptiness fades into the twilight.

Another summer passes by in Fresno and I start to realize there are some people and places I don't want to forget. There are many of us that have ventured out of their hometown. Only to return in amazement for any development and sadness for things that once were. The best feeling is still the hope in seeing some things hanging on a thread but still exists. So I'll start with one of my best memories in Fresno. In hopes I will never forget these people and these places--Hockey. It has progressed from the ghetto rink of Kaiser Park to the park behind Fashion fair mall...

Hockey never was a big thing in Fresno. We have an ice team at Gateway ice, but roller was never big. Roller was the poor man's hockey. About a decade ago, I got into hockey because of my cousin Anh and have enjoyed sucking at it since, but enjoyed it nonetheless. In Fresno, pickup roller hockey was played at Kaiser Park next to Saint Agnes hospital on Alluvial and Fresno. Tuesday, Thursdays, and Sundays at 7pm were the big days when we could muster a rag tag crew out to skate. I was religiously involved with the Sunday night crew, cause I didn't have a ride for Tuesday/Thursday as my parents were both working late those days.

I guess I'll start with the setup. When I first started out there, we were able to roll 3 teams of 5-7 skaters. Varying from all ages and skill level. My skill level at this point was I could hold the stick, and skate forward. Stopping and turning around was a different story. But it's ok, I wasn't the only one. Rarely did we have two goalies out there, the surface messed up the gear. So we mainly played 3 bar/posts or tip the net over to make the goal a bit smaller. Gear consisted of what one could afford. Basics were skate and stick. That's where we all started. Some had shin guards, helmets, gloves, or one but not the other. In the end, one played at their own risk.

The surface was like an outdoor basketball court cement, painted black, and uneven with a few potholes here and there. The net, was still in one piece at this point. The wooden boards and the fence provided the arena along with the nails jutting out in various places. Your hockey stick could get stuck in between the boards more than once a night. It was expected that your stick got stuck in the boards at least once actually. At this point in time, there were lights to play until 10pm. Now there is another group of guys playing behind Fashion Fair mall from 630pm til dark, Wednesdays, Friday, and Sundays.

The people are what made this game great. I'll start with the people from Clovis West that played with me. Rivera Ramos was the average mexican. Started playing as a forward, but eventually became one of our goalies. The dude was a bit big boned but can skate a hell of a lot better than he can run. Had the finesse and the quick hands as a forward. But loved the game out there so much that he decided to pickup goalie gear. Because there was a lack of goalies and people were slowly fading away after a year. He helped me get alot of the basics down. Learned how to stop eventually cause of him, change direction on the fly, and eye hand coordination with my stick. I went to UCI for undergrad, came back one summer and he's still same ol Ramos. Third year I come back, and he's joined the US Marines. Fourth year, I come back, ask around and people say he's disappeared. I don't know what happened, but I do hope this guy comes back sometime.

Ron Aksenov is a native Russian. Came to the US with limited English and attended high school with us. His dad's name I forgot, but let's just call him "Sergei" cause it sounds cool. Ron and his dad would play. Damn can this kid move and his dad even better. They teach Russians some hockey over in the motherland. They are an aggressive bunch. That father and son duo had a rivalry with each other and with another father-son duo. Wesley and Gordon from Clovis High. It was all out hockey when these guys were out. It was suppose to be friendly, but hits start flying when their side starts losing. Don't forget, there isn't a ref out there to call those slashes, hooks, or boardings. Sometimes they'd come home with cuts on their faces from a high stick, or bruises from a hit. But in the end, they were able to laugh it off. I still remember the hit Sergei laid on Ron. Ron was digging for the puck behind the net against another guy. They were both pinned up against the boards. Sergei comes up from behind, picked up speed from half court. Laid Ron out flat on his ass. Skates and body flew up against the boards, pinned up by Sergei. Sergei backs off and ron falls on his ass head flaps on the cement. Helmet gives a loud crack that stops the whole play. Sergei is still playing the puck though. Ron gets up shakes his head and skates in for a sub. Five minutes later he's back in for some payback.

Ron lays out his dad by center ice. Sergei just deked out one dude. Ron just puts his whole hip or ass one can say out. Bends over and throws the check on his dad, his dad rolls over Ron's back. Stick falls to the floor. Ron gets up before his dad to play the loose puck. They say something to each other in Russian after the goal and both just smile and laugh.

Micah Cavalla (?) was like our ring leader for roller. Wasn't the quickest, but our biggest guy from school. Height wise. Dude was a pothead to the bone. I don't know how he could still skate and play after lightin it up. The drugs must've made him one of the most chill guys I know. He couldn't play the full 3hrs, after 1 hr he'd be gasping for oxygen.

Then there were the ice hockey guys from our school. We had a nickname for those guys. Amongst many other names, they were labeled as the "Pretty boys." Referring how they came out with full gear in a bag, multiple sticks, and their team warmups with their ice hockey swagger. So whenever they came out, we'd say guess it's "pretty boy hockey" today. They came out rarely, perhaps once a month until their hockey season starts. They were always complaining about the crappy hockey surface that was free. The lack of gear and all the fouls we'd commit. After a while, they just gave in and played our game. They were damn good, probably amongst our best. Eventually a few of them got along with everyone. And realized this is grass roots hockey, we aren't on their level yet. Amongst this crew was Ian S, Chris P (?), and Brandon B, and a few others I already forgot.

To be continued...

 

 

Balboa sunset on the horizon,
Speechless, I listen to a voice from heaven.
Her voice echoes with the waves.
Like a melody I continue to rave.

Serenity smiles…and I lose my thought.
As her poison ties my mind in a knot.
In that moment I pray,
For this timeless summer day.

For her to understand my tranquil silence,
My life, my buried emotions as I continue this dance.
My regrets, my sins, and secrets.
Locked in this atrium's deep abyss.

I listen to her life,
Youth in her eyes, but she's seen much strife.
Fallen for life's endless waltz,
Family, friends, and love crashing to a halt.

Years gone, she finally returns home.
Like the wind, she wavers and loves to roam.
She stands still for a moment to watch her father's pride.
Scared he won't survive a harmless ride.

Behind the sunshine in her smile, I wonder.
With that childish giggle, what lies under?
How many secrets can she hide?
How many facades can she disguise?

Balboa sunset on the horizon,
Capturing, every curve in the smiles from heaven.
The childish giggle sings as a blissful reminder.
Hoping for another moment--another prayer.

I came across this article from the Metro while I was in class yesterday (4/17/08). I don't know if anyone reads the articles, but this one hit close to home. I know the boys from Fresno are the best in the business, but this famliy just brings me to my knees.
I don't know any of the Hubbard brothers, but I was asked by a good friend back in summer of 2004 to lay some white roses for his fellow marine Lance Cpl. Jared Hubbard. Since my boy was still serving at that time. When he told me Jared was one of the good men out there, I believed him, no hesitation. He forgot to tell me what a fine family he was raised in. My respect, my condolensces, my prayers go out to the Hubbard's family current struggle. My friends and I grew up with Pride, Faith, and Loyalty to each other. I extend this to such a fine famly, Jared is a friend to one of the finest marines I know. Therefore, he is one of the finest friends I never met. That goes for his family.
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Family's Sole Surviving Son Denied GI Benefits

"Jason is one person who obviously has suffered tremendously and has given the ultimate sacrifice. One person is too many to have this happen to."

Army Spc. Jason Hubbard was forced to leave the combat zone after his two brothers died in the Iraq war, but once at home the soldier faced another battle: The military cut off his health care, stopped his G.I. educational subsidies and wanted him to repay his sign-up bonus.

It wasn't until Hubbard petitioned his local Congressman that he was able to restore some of his benefits.

Now that Congressman, Rep. Devin Nunes, plans to join three other lawmakers in introducing a bill Wednesday that would ensure full benefits to all soldiers who are discharged under the sole survivor policy. The rule is a holdover from World War II meant to protect the rights of service people who have lost a family member to war.

Hubbard Family story

Lost and Found
September 14, 2007

Look at that petal fall to the ground.
Orchid or rose, red or white, it doesn't make a sound.
Watch it dance as it falls
As it closes another chapter in time's sacred halls

Four years since our journeys began
Four years more until god knows when.
How many faces will be forgotten?
As the petals of time float down—just listen.

Listen to our hearts echo in eternity.
Feel the life within each memory.
In simple solitude we tango to time's reclusive play.
Echoing our reason to live everyday.

Letting us know what money can't reprimand.
Lost time with those whom we can call a friend.
Let the whispers reside.
As we bathe in our daily pride.

Picture this black ending,
Of the past, that continues reflecting.
Embrace the white future,
The screen sets for us—as our will carries us higher.

Let us keep our hopes high.
Let the world know this isn't a final goodbye.
Absorb this toast with a solemn vow.
As this petal is simply a future yet to be found.

EDMONTON (CP) - Drugstore billionaire Daryl Katz has launched an $145-million bid to purchase the Edmonton Oilers, a source told The Canadian Press on Saturday.

The all-cash offer was made to the 37-member Oilers ownership group earlier this week, said the source, who added that the bid was unsolicited and that the team is not currently on the market.

Under terms of Katz's offer, the Oilers would remain in Edmonton.

Katz, 45, is an Edmonton native who owns the 1,800-store Katz Group.

The source said he believes most members of the ownership aren't interested in selling.

http://www.canada.com/edmontonjournal/story.html?id=7b24ec0d-34f9-4afd-bd42-0c388284ea8d&k=15071

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My new motivation to become a pharmacist. Gonna buy me a hockey team, farm me the best canadian hockey players, and beat them canadians that aren't on my team muahaha.

-Fix up them pharmacies
-halfdome hike
-hockey--lots
-learn how to surf or at least not get messed up in the process- round 2
-Get fat on home cooked meals
-Eat some good pho
-eat some sushi
-eat some korean bbq
-fatten up on in and out
-catch up on tv/movies
-learn how to bodyboard
-learn the piano/guitar (HAH!)
-get through at least 3 of those things above

"Only the dead have seen the end of war" ~plato

For the good men I didn't get to know and the few good men my crackheads called bro.

RIP

In Memory...
Army Cpl. Michael M. Rojas
21, of Fresno, Calif (KIA April 18, 2007)
Cpl. Jeremiah A. Baro, 21, of Fresno, Calif. (KIA November 4, 2004)
Lance Cpl. Jared P. Hubbard, 22, of Clovis, Calif. (KIA November 4, 2004)

In prayers
Byron Pierce US special forces
Fresno, CA Clovis West alumni 2002
Afghanistan August 2006-present

Rivera Ramos USMC
Fresno, CA Clovis West Alumni 2002
Fallujah, time unknown

--------------------------------------
In memory,
The heavens shall sing.
In Faith,
May the song of heroes continue to ring.

In memory of father and son,
Who dwell in our hearts,
And couldn't see tomorrow's rising sun.
In memory will their silence depart.

In faith shall I place this white rose…
Upon such holy ground…
Anchoring a garden for heroes.
By which their deeds have yet to be found.

In memory,
The heavens shall sing.
In Faith,
May the song of heroes continue to ring.

In memory for widow and mother…
That carries a wound in her soul.
In memory, ephemeral memories--may we heal her
Bring her warmth, as we fill that empty hole.

In faith, we share her pain.
In sorrow, grieve for her torment.
As the tears of angels dwindle in the rain.
We listen as they cry to her lament.

In memory's sacred halls, there is life
In faith, the heavens will hear us sing.
With pride, we bury this strife.
While the song of heroes forever ring.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I ain't scared, just scurred.

Spring Formal 2007. TUSP KY pledges.



cheers

KY 2007 Pledges-dick in a box
courtesy of Millhouse