Back to the Future: The Sporting Life

You heard the old saying "You can never go home again," right?  Well, I don't believe it.  For example, I began my television career more than 23 years ago in Topeka, Kansas.  After 14 years as a sportscaster, I left that world behind to "grow up" and become a newscaster.  It's a change I enjoy.  Four months ago, due to some personnel changes, we had a vacancy in the KPAX-TV sports department.  Management approached me about adding sports anchoring duties to my newscaster responsibilities twice a week (Mondays and Tuesdays) on a "temporarily permanent" basis.  "Sure," I said.  I realize the need to pull together and get the job done, especially in a smaller television market newsroom.   


The thing is, I love sports.  I love being active.  I love learning new skills.  I love to compete.  And I love watching those who do the same.  Competition allowed me to learn so many personal, real life lessons:  team work, perseverance, hard word, friendship, practice, discipline, sportsmanship, brotherhood and just plain having fun. 

Following the University of Montana during its just-completed post-season run was my fifteenth year of covering a college basketball team in the NCAA Tournament.  While I did not travel with the team to Albuquerque, I have been there before.  I followed Gonzaga to the Pit a number of years ago.  I also followed the Zags to Seattle, Phoenix, Atlanta, and other locations.  I traveled with Kansas State years ago in the NCAA Tournament to North Carolina.  I followed the University of Kansas to so many places that I can't remember them all, but that did include a Final Four trip to New Orleans, my birth place, way back in 1993.

I also have fond memories of football bowl trips such as the 2003 Rose Bowl with Washington State.  It was a somewhat forgettable performance for the Cougs as Oklahoma steamrolled its way to a 34-14 victory, but it was fun to visit the historic Pasadena site.  My 1997 Fiesta Bowl trip with Kansas State was a blast.  The Wildcats rolled over Donovan McNabb and Syracuse 35 to 18.  Perhaps my favorite football bowl trip was 1995 Holiday Bowl.  K-State laid a 54-21 licking on Colorado State in a game where the entire top deck of Jack Murphy Stadium was purple. There must have been 25,000 Wildcat fanatics that made the trip west.

K-State celebrates a Fiesta Bowl victory

There are also many, many other events, circuits, leagues, and teams I covered over the years.  Among them is the National Hot Rod Association.  I'm not much of a racing guy, but I loved it when the drag racers came to Heartland Park Topeka.  I traveled with the University of Kansas to the College Baseball World Series in Omaha one year.  What a great experience that was.  I went on two different road trips to Canada with the Spokane Chiefs hockey team.  Talk about an eye-opening experience.  Those kids are dedicated to reaching their goals and dreams.  (Below is a "behind the scenes" three-part series about the Chiefs.  I also took a similar trip with the Missoula Maulers.)

I had the opportunity to be in Seattle at opening night of Safeco Field.  I left there with quite a souvenir.  During batting practice the previous day, I leaned over a railing to look into the first base dugout.  When I straightened up, my brand new shorts stayed stuck to the railing.  Somebody had just painted it but there was no "fresh paint" sign posted.  I had a nice green stripe that stretched across both pant legs.  Funny stuff indeed.  I also covered the Seattle Mariners in the playoffs and attended Kansas City Royals games too.

There are also memorable NFL experiences.  My favorite was an annual trip to River Falls, Wisconsin to cover the Kansas City Chiefs training camp.  Head Coach Marty Schottenheimer allowed the media to have good access to drills and the players.  Marty was always very accessible too and remains my all-time favorite NFL coach.  During those days, there was no sporting atmosphere better than Arrowhead Stadium on game day, except for maybe Allen Fieldhouse in Lawrence when the Jayhawks hit the basketball court.         

Covering the Zags in the NCAA Tournament

  

 But the trips aren't what highlight my memories.  It's the people, the things they experience and the stories they tell.  From little league baseball players to old men playing handball, just to talk to people and feel their enthusiasm for competition is what always inspired me.  And that's what I try to pass along when I sit in the sportscaster seat, especially if I can add a humorous slant to it.  (Below is a video of the University of Montana football staff using super-soakers during a special teams drill.)

There are also public appearances, serving as emcee for various events, attending roasts, participating as a "celebrity" in golf scramble events, and playing on a station basketball team to help schools and organizations raise money.  I remember playing in a 100-hole golf marathon in Liberty Lake, Washington.  I shot 97 over par with my dad as my caddie/driver.  Luckily, I finished my final hole just in time to do a live shot for the early evening newscast. 

I touched the Stanley Cup and interviewed such sporting greats as Wilt Chamberlain, Joe Montana, George Brett, Derrick Thomas and countless others.  I worked with many trusted co-workers who remain some of my greatest friends today.   

 
As a sportscaster, I was given great freedom to create content and programming.  I worked with the radio voice of the Kansas City Chiefs to create a one-minute insider report called "A Minute with Mitch," which is still in production today.  I teamed with my a co-worker years ago to gather lockers, helmets, jerseys and other apparel to build a set for a Friday night high school sports show recognized by many as the best in Topeka.  And perhaps my favorite was the infamous Pepsi Sports Challenged.  Viewers, both in Topeka and in Spokane, wrote in to challenge us sportscasters to whatever sport they had in mind.  Viewers loved it.  Newspaper sports columnists hated it.  We loved it.  We did all kinds of crazy stuff from rock climbing and rappelling to water ski jumping to running a two mile obstacle course at the Fort Riley Army base in Kansas in front of hundreds of screaming members of the Big Red One, the oldest division in the U.S. Army.  (Below is a sports challenge video I recently found on YouTube.)

I could go on and on but my bottom line is sports is real life.  It's about competing.  It's about enjoying.  It's about living.  And going back to the future to do it again is just fine with me.

Access Denied

"No Trespassing." "Closed." "Private Property."  "Stay Out."  Signs like these are popping up more and more every day across Montana and around the country.  Don't get me wrong, landowners have every right to do what they want with their property.  I just really appreciate those who open their land to those who enjoy the great outdoors.

Let me give you some examples.  I know the manager of a cattle ranch close to my home.  He allows me to access the land in order to reach a four-mile long stretch of my favorite creek, Lolo Creek, to fish.  Montana law stipulates any angler can fish any stretch of water as long as they are below the high-water mark, but the biggest challenge is often finding a public access point to even get to the water.  This small, often overlooked creek, is an excellent fishery loaded with three different kinds of trout.  It is where I learned the art of fly fishing.  It is also where I caught my largest fish ever a couple of years ago--a 21 inch monster of a brown trout. 

Ironically enough, this same 4,000 acre cattle ranch is off-limits to hunters even though it is home to a resident elk herd.  It wasn't always that way.  Years ago, the owner allowed access but an unethical hunter fired again and again into the herd, wounding many elk and killing several others.

Property ownership really comes into play for hunters.  Of the six deer I harvested, four were on private property.  Of the four deer my son harvested, three were on private property.  Each of us also took one elk, but both times the successful hunts were on private ranch land. 

 Hundreds of property owners across Montana take part in what's called the Block Management program.  It is a cooperative effort between private landowners and Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks.  It provides the public with free hunting access to private land, which oftentimes allows access to isolated public lands not otherwise accessible.  While I have hunted on Block Management land several times, I have yet to harvest any game but that's okay.  I have enjoyed walking ridge lines, seen new country, and made memories with my son and other friends.

The greatest disappointment to me is when land previously open to the public is suddenly closed and inaccessible.  There is such a piece of land not even ten minutes from my home.  It was formerly owned by Plum Creek, which allows public access for fishing, hunting, huckleberry picking and other recreational uses on all of its holdings.  This particular parcel of land offers prime habitat for deer and elk with a source of water, stands of trees, sloping foothills and easy access to a valley bottom of lush grasses and a creek below.  In fact, it is where both my son and I harvested our first deer (see Real Hunting magazine article below).  I have friends whose land butts up to that area which allows me easy access to it.  I hunted there every year for the past seven years.  Last spring, a nearby resident purchased the land from Plum Creek and "No Trespassing" signs immediately went up.  I actually ran into that man several years ago on that same piece of property immediately after he harvested a cow elk. At that time, he gave my son and I permission to hunt on his land.  However, that changed since he added the Plum Creek parcel to his holdings.  He notified neighbors the land was now off-limits.  I tried on several occasions to contact him, but he never returned my repeated attempts.  Again, I fully recognize that it is his right to deny access.  I do not dispute that.  However, that does not make it any easier to accept.  A cherished piece of my hunting heritage is now behind locked gates.  To me, it is "access denied."          

    

Why I Hunt

Father & son high up the West Fork of the Bitterroot

The other day, someone semi-criticized me for being a hunter.  That's fine.  Everyone seems to have their own opinion of hunting and those who do it.  I am not a "blood thirsty killer."  To be honest, I don't like killing an animal, nor do I like gutting one after it's down.  So why do I do it?  There are several reasons.
Hunting is one of the best ways to enjoy the great outdoors. There is something special about climbing a ridgeline, walking on freshly fallen snow through a thick stand of ponderosa pines, watching the sun rise above the mountains, and enjoying the fresh air and odors of being in the forest.

Hunting is a great way to bond and create memories.  My grandpas both hunted as a means of support for their families.  My father grew up with that traditional mentality too.  He only ever took me big game hunting one time, but I still remember quite a bit about it.  I remember the songs on the radio on the way there.  I remember hiking over the Canadian hills for hours.  I remember seeing a herd of deer far off in the valley below.  I remember coming face to face with a moose that was so close I could've hit it with a football.  I also remember going home empty-handed, but that didn't seem to matter.  It was all about just me, the youngest of three boys, and my dad spending the entire day together.

I since had many opportunities to have similar experiences with my son.  Sure, we had a number of outings that ended up with game in the back of the pickup, but hunting is about much more than that.  I remember "hoofing it" up a steep ridge in deep snow on the trail of an elk herd we never caught.  We were so tired and had sweat dripping down our faces that we eventually plopped down in the snow to catch our breath and busted out homemade jerky, which brought smiles to our faces.  I remember being with my son and others when we saw a huge herd of elk.  Jace picked one out fom 200 yards away and dropped it. That was the first elk taken in at least three Holyoak generations, if not more than that.  It was a glorious day together.  I also remember taking my youngest daughter with me--just once.  She didn't mind the hike but did not like having to keep her voice down to a whisper for several hours.  That still brings a smile to my face. 

It is a thrill to see wildlife.  Of course, the best thrill is to see the species of animal you seek, but it's much more than that.  I recently spent more than two hours so close to an elk herd I could not only see them but I could hear them chirp, bark and call to each other.  I watched the lead cow look in all directions to try to seek out any dangers for the rest of the herd, much like a mother hen would for her chicks.  I once had an entire elk herd pass right in front of me only 10 to 15 yards away.  Several of them stopped and got into lengthy staring contests with me.  I guess they were trying to figure out what I was.  I dared not flinch.  They eventually just kept walking so I watched 60 of them, one by one, walk right in front of me.  I watched coyotes frolic and play on hillsides, a fox carefully trot through the snow, and grouse suddenly pop up--seemingly right from under my feet.  That was more than enough in the calm woods to give me a "heart attack."  Once, another coyote ran at me and a friend from hundreds of yards away.  It eventually veered off only 10 yards in front of us.  During another outing in the high country, I almost stepped on a snow hare.  I only noticed it because of a slight movement and the color of its eyes.  During one outing in grizzly country, I saw something black move behind a stand of small pine trees.  That certainly got my attention.  I've always wanted to see a bear while hunting, but not necessarily a grizzly (if you know what I mean).  Luckily, in this case, it turned out to be one of a group of six black mules that eventually gave me an escort, of sorts, as I headed down the mountain.

Hunting is great way to stay in shape.  I am definitely not a fan of getting up well before the crack of dawn and driving to a favorite hunting spot, but many times you have to do so in order to be in the best position to find game.  I often leave my truck 90 minutes before sunrise to start an ascent into the mountains.  It's crazy to realize how far and how high you can climb in such a short time.  Just look at a given mountain and imagine what it would be like to climb to the top of it.  That's what hunters do--from bottom to top to bottom again.  And for me, that's something I do all before going to work that afternoon. 

The main reason I hunt is for the meat.  A deer tag for a Montana resident costs $16.  An elk tag costs $20.  Of course, that doesn't include the cost of a hunting enhancement, a conservation license, bullets, gas, and other equpment and supplies.  But still, in this day and age, that is a bargain--especially if you are successful.  We have been blessed with a great deal of success over our eight years of hunting.  My son and I combined to shoot two elk and ten deer.  We also had a friend donate a whitetail doe he shot.  The bottom line is we did not buy any beef, other than pre-made hamburger patties for the barbeque, over that time.  And thanks to two harvested whitetail bucks and one cow elk this past season, the freezer is full of roasts, steaks, tenderloins, stew meat, jerky, and ground venison.  On top of that, we really like the flavor!