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RIP Walt Garrison

Walt Garrison, the Cowboys’ cowboy, has died at 79. The gritty, hard-nosed, tough running back who bridged the gap between Don Perkins and Tony Dorsett and played well in both of the Cowboys’ first Super Bowls; the “aw, shucks” friendly and funny rodeo star who slipped out of the Cowboys’ hotel after team meetings the night before home games to wrestle steers in Mansfield; the Skoal brother who made “just a pinch between your cheek and gum” part of our cultural vernacular in the 1970s; the Denton native who played football as a Cowboy at Oklahoma State and in Dallas, and lived as one off the field — passed away last night. Garrison is one of those “characters” who captured the hearts of football fans and the curiosity of everyone else, and helped make those Cowboys “America’s Team.”

The two times I was lucky enough to encounter Walt personally — once on the sidelines at a Cowboys game in 2003 and once in a Texas Stadium suite six years later — he was everything you want your childhood heroes to be. Down to earth. Friendly. Genuinely pleased to meet you. Really dry and witty sense of humor.

The same guy who answered the reporter’s question, “Did you ever see Tom Landry smile?” with “No. But I was only there nine years.”

Peace,

Allan

Rearranging the Furniture

It’s official now. The Rangers and Astros will square off in the ALCS in a best of seven showdown for a trip to the World Series. So, the first thing I did this morning when I arrived at my study was to rearrange some furniture. Not furniture. They’re knickknacks. Keepsakes. Souvenirs. My office here at church is decorated (Carrie-Anne uses the word ‘littered’) with sports memorabilia. Most of it’s really old and represents my former fondness of the Cowboys, my current rooting interests in the Stars and Mavs, and my everlasting obsession with the Rangers. You’ll also find in my office, here and there, some really old artifacts that reflect my love of Texas history. Three of these items are Houston Astros items.

Rooting for the Astros as my second favorite team was never a problem. Houston was always in the National League and my Rangers were always in the American League. The two never played one another and the only way they could ever meet would be in a World Series. Well, there was never any chance of that.

Until interleague play began in 1997. No big deal. Friendly in-state rivalry. No real impact on the division standings. Just a fun in-season diversion a couple of times a year.

Then, Bud Selig fleeced Drayton McClane in 2013 and moved the Astros to the American League West against everybody’s wishes. Everybody’s. Today those games against Houston really matter. Every contest is a two-game swing in the division. And now, for the first time in history, the Rangers and Astros are meeting in the playoffs with the AL pennant at stake. A four-out-of-seven series up and down I-45 for a ticket to the 2023 World Series.

There’s a lot on the line here. This is important. Heavy. Thus, with the Rangers being my absolute favorite team and baseball being by far the most superstitious of all the sports, I’ve rearranged a few things this morning in my office.

The ceramic Astros piggy-bank from the ’60s that has sheepishly smiled from a prominent place on my bookshelf is now turned around backwards.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Astros ashtray from the ’70s that’s suspended on my wall under the matching Oilers ashtray is now hanging upside down.

And the old metal Houston Astros lunchbox that serves alongside my Juan Gonzalez lunchkit as a backdrop to my myriad bobbleheads has been turned over on its side with the Rangers lunchbox now perched on top in a superior and conquering position.

I’m ready. I’m ready for this still-budding rivalry to completely take over our football-crazed Republic. I’m ready for six or seven games over the coming ten days or so to totally dominate our conversations and our imagination. I’m ready for the exhilarating victories and I’m prepared for the inevitable gut punch of the ultimate defeat — I am a Rangers fan, you know.

I do believe it’s going to be the Rangers and Astros battling each other for American League pennants for the next several years. I’ve been targeting next year, 2024, all along as the year the baton gets passed from Houston to Arlington. I believe the Rangers are, today, where the Astros were in 2016 and it’s about to get really fun. Houston got their Dusty Baker and now we’ve got our Bruce Bochy.

Let’s Go Rangers!
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!

Hello ALCS!

Five thoughts: Rangers sweep Orioles, advance to ALCS

The sell-out crowd at Globe Life Field was chanting “We Want Houston!” last night as soon as Jose LeClerc struck out Jordan Westburg to punch the Rangers ticket to the American League Championship series for the first time since 2011. From the comfort of my couch in the back of my house in front of my large television, I thought, “Shouldn’t we vote on that first?”

Let’s worry about the Astros later. Today, let’s celebrate the darndest baseball team anybody’s ever seen. Who are these guys? Resilient. Scrappy. Unpredictable. Streaky. The most fun a Rangers team has ever been to watch since, well, those World Series teams of 2010 and 2011. Even Bruce Bochy, who has seen it all and won it all, can’t figure this group out. He’s as perplexed as anybody. Part of the joy in last night’s on field and clubhouse celebration was watching Bochy trying to suppress his smile. It’s been a crazy, unexpected, up and down ride with these Rangers. And it’s not over yet.

The bottom line with this group is that they only have one weakness: that blasted bullpen. It’s terrible. Chapman proved that again in the 8th inning last night, loading the bases with Orioles to inject the only drama during the blowout win. But the hitting, the starting pitching, and the superb defense are neutralizing their only disadvantage.

The lineup is incredibly deep. Spots 1-9 are loaded and give opposing pitchers no breathing room. There’s no break. The O’s walked Seager last night to load the bases for Mitch Garver the day after they did the same thing which resulted in a Garver grand slam! This time it was only a two-run double — I guess that’s a win for Baltimore — but Garcia hit a three run jimmy-jack on the very next pitch. That sequence illustrates the point. Lowe has reclaimed his groove, Carter has added to the lineup’s threat, Garcia’s confidence is soaring, and Seager’s going to get on base four times a night. Their chase rate is the lowest in the majors. The Rangers walked 18 times during the three game sweep. It’s a pitcher’s nightmare.

And the pitching is there. Nate Eovaldi is nasty again, Jordan Montgomery is going to give you seven solid innings, and Jon Gray and Mad Max look like they’re going to be ready for this next round. Bochy can wave his wand to get through the seventh and eighth innings so LeClerc can finish it off with a three or four out save, whatever is needed.

The Rangers are getting healthier, their confidence is through the roof, and they’ve got a Hall of Fame manager calling the shots.

I remember telling our daughter Whitney during the ALCS and World Series in 2011 to really enjoy it. Soak it in and remember it, because we’re not guaranteed it’ll ever happen again. This could be it, you never know. I still suffer from PTSD related to Cruz’s drop in Game Six. Last Wednesday, when Sean McDonough announced during the 9th inning in Tampa that the Rangers were “one strike away,” my heart sank into my socks and I threw up a little bit in my mouth. Yes, I still suffer from PTSD. And for the past several years, it has felt like we’d never get back. Well, we’re back. Enjoy it. Soak it in. Remember this. We’re living in the good ol’ days again with the Texas Rangers.

Do  we want Houston? We’re getting them whether we want them or not. An I-45 series for much more than a clunky silver boot. A Lone Star matchup for the AL pennant.

Peace,

Allan

More Love to Him

 

 

 

 

 

The Texas Rangers scored more runs yesterday than the Cowboys scored points. The Rangers have won four straight playoff games on the road against the AL’s top two winningest teams and are one win away from advancing to the ALCS for the first time since the heartbreak of 2011. In the meantime, can we all stop putting the Cowboys in the same category as the Eagles and 49ers in the NFC? Clearly, it’s not even close.

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In preparing for this weekend’s GCR 60th Anniversary and Homecoming, I’ve been reading old bulletins from the North A CofC that planted GCR back in 1963. Greg Fleming, the preacher at the North A / Downtown Church, has been a valuable resource as I piece together all that shared history. More than half the North A congregation moved to GCR when it opened. When the first GCR elders were ordained, there were shepherds and representatives from North A, Fairmont, Cherry Lane, and a couple other Midland CofCs present in a show of unity and support. One gets the sense that the Churches of Christ in this town used to demonstrate a strong unity. We once believed in and felt our common bonds and purpose.

I asked Greg what it would take to re-ignite that kind of unity here in our immediate local context. Never mind the broader picture of Churches of Christ, what about just here in Midland-Odessa? Could we remember our common past and come together for the sake of the Kingdom to which we all belong? Is it possible? Could our Lord work through our two congregations to foster some holy reconciliation in a spirit of Christian love? I’m up for anything when it comes to breaking down walls and uniting in Christ. As you know, I’m working hard toward ecumenical worship and service partnerships between GCR and our brothers and sisters at First Baptist, First Pres, and First Methodist. What about our own CofCs?

Greg responded with this paragraph from Elisha E. Sewell, published in the old Gospel Advocate in 1923:

“We tell others that we can all see the Bible alike; that trouble is, we differ, not on what it says, but on the inferences we draw therefrom… Yet, while preaching the truth to others, we are continually differing among ourselves, not on what the Bible says, but on the inferences we draw therefrom. We draw inferences concerning Bible colleges, the second coming of Christ, Bible-school literature, individual communion cups, and numerous other things; and instead of discussing these matters in a spirit of love and forbearance, we accuse each other of disloyalty to the Book, and we want to withdraw fellowship from each other. The remedy for this and the only one, is to change our emphases from that of loyalty to the cause (meaning ‘our plea’) to loyalty to Christ. More love to him will mean more love for each other. Love is the great principle of unity. It succeeds where others fail, and without it all others must fail.”

The Church of Christ “cause” Sewell mentions, our “plea,” is the misguided restoration of the first century Church, the deadly shift we made from starting as a bold Christian unity movement that accepted all who claimed Christ Jesus as Lord to becoming a church restoration movement that drew lines and wrote policies that divided and excluded followers of Jesus. Yuk.

More love to him would mean more love for one another. A better grasp of God’s grace for us would result in more grace for one another across denominational lines and within our own Christian heritage in CofCs. Is it too late?

The time is coming — it’s already here in many ways — in which we will not have the luxury of calling ourselves Baptists, Methodists, Disciples, or Churches of Christ. In the near future, we won’t be divided along denominational lines, we’ll just be thrilled to find another Christian. Period. We’re going to need each other much more than we realize. Someday soon, how we feel about musical instruments and women’s roles will take a backseat to adherence to the rule of faith and a stand for the non-negotiables of the Apostles’ Creed, which has been our Lord’s will all along. I say we lean into it right now. A good way to start would be to reconcile with our own CofC brothers and sisters and our churches in Midland.

Peace,

Allan

The Good Group

Carrie-Anne and I went to her final oncology appointment at MD Anderson in Houston yesterday so everybody could look at her one more time and officially declare her cancer-free. Her two doctors must have said half a dozen times, “You are cancer-free. Your cancer is history. You do not have any cancer anymore,” as if to reinforce it in both our brains and our souls. “According to your doctors here,” they said, “we know you do not have cancer. The only way to prove it, is for you to come in once a year for five years so we can document it. But you do not have cancer.” They said many times that Carrie-Anne is in the “good group,” the group the comes in only for routine checks to confirm what they already know: she is cured.

And we thank God.

To help us celebrate, the Rangers completed a wild card sweep of the Rays in Tampa to advance to the ALDS. The timing could not have been more perfect. Carrie-Anne’s last appointment was scheduled for 1:00pm. They took her at about 12:15pm instead. We returned the rental car, took the shuttle to the airport, checked in, went through security, ran to Buffalo Wild Wings, and were seated in front of a large TV before the end of the first inning. I was wearing a Rangers shirt and we were both openly cheering for Texas in the middle of enemy territory as they dominated Tampa Bay and won their first playoff series since the ALCS in 2011. C-A jumped to her feet when the final out was recorded, securing the Rangers win. And, yes, there was some grumbling among the B-Dubs patrons. More than a couple of people reminded us that, in Houston, they only celebrate World Series wins.

We stayed in the restaurant long enough to watch one post-game interview of Josh Jung, then hustled to our gate where they had just announced boarding. The timing could not have been better.

Carrie-Anne has one more procedure related to her reconstruction set for November 20 in Houston. It’s a day surgery, and we should be home the next evening or the Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving at the latest. And I don’t care who says it or how many times they keep saying it, I’ll never get tired of hearing people in white coats tell us she is cancer-free.

Peace,

Allan

The Rangers Ride & Tyler’s Throat

Scattershooting while wondering whatever happened to D.D. Lewis…

The stupid Rangers. What a crazy day-by-day ride it’s been with this team, especially over the past six weeks. The Rangers held first place in the AL West for 148 of the first 149 days of the season, then fell into third place with 20 games to play, then regained first place and held it for the final nine days of the regular season, only to lose it with a shutout loss in Seattle on the season’s final day. Texas needed to win two out of four games in Seattle to clinch the division title and a first round bye in the playoffs. Instead, they lost three of four, got blanked in two of those losses, and are playing the Rays in Tampa this afternoon in the Wild Card round. How does the number one offense in MLB — number one among all teams all year in batting average, runs, and home runs — with a division championship and playoff positioning on the line, get shutout by a team that got eliminated from the race the day before? That’s the nature of the roller coaster ride the Rangers have been for the past month-and-a-half. Stomach churning ups and downs, disorienting twists and turns, nausea-inducing loops and corkscrews, exhilarating highs and devastating lows — I’ve never experienced anything quite like this. And I’m expecting it to continue. The Rangers will play a best two-out-of-three at Tropicana Field, where the Rays had the best home record in baseball, and we won’t know what to expect each of the next two or three afternoons until we’re caught up (or down) in the middle of it and it’s too late. I love roller coasters. But there’s a dread in my head and my gut tells me this one crashes and burns quickly. Maybe I’m tamping down my own expectations so I’m not too fried when it ends. But most of me feels like it’s already over.

My biggest gripe with Jerry Wayne’s ownership / general managership of the Cowboys is how, over the past 27-years, he has systemically lowered the bar for this once proud franchise and its fans. He’s touting Ezekiel Elliott now for the hallowed Ring of Honor. Shouldn’t a guy win at least one divisional playoff game in his career before he’s enshrined with the likes of Lilly, Staubach, Dorsett, and Emmitt?

The red zone issues are going to be the downfall of this current Cowboys team. He calls it the Texas Coast offense because he wants to control the ball with runs and short passes, but McCarthy’s roster isn’t built for it. I know you can’t pay Elliott the money he was making just to specialize as a short yardage back, but Dallas does not have the guy to muscle into the end zone from down close. Plus, the Cowboys receivers are all quick and fast, but they’re thin as rails and not designed to post up for contested balls in the paint. Dallas’ best option inside the 20 is running it with Dak, but that will get him injured. So, until one of those new-ish tight ends steps up, it looks like a record-breaking year for the Cowboys kicker, but no playoffs.

I’m not feeling great about Steven Tyler’s situation. Aerosmith has canceled all their concerts for the remainder of the year, including the November 7 gig at AAC in Dallas for which we are holding seven tickets, due to the lead singer’s fractured larynx. A fractured larynx?!? Does a 75-year-old man even come back from that? If he fractured it by singing those high notes at the end of “Walk This Way” (I’m only guessing; it could have been any of those high screeching notes in any of their songs), how does it not happen again the very next time he tries? I’m worried that my promise to take our two younger daughters to see Aerosmith before Tyler dies is not going to happen. I’m also worried about the process for getting my money back when they inevitably call it quits.

Our move from the gym back into our newly remodeled worship center at GCR Church this past Sunday was a tremendous success. All 485 of us walked from the Family Center, through the breezeway, into the Gathering Space, and down to the worship center as several of our brothers and sisters read aloud from the Psalms of Ascent. As we approached the south rotunda, we could hear the sounds of the Christians singing songs of praise from the inside. Jim and Brenda and a few others welcomed us with bright smiles and enthusiastic eyes. I was surprised by the emotion I felt at that moment, just feet away from the new room, surrounded by people I’ve barely known for two years. During the walk over, I was personally distracted by the many details of my job that were swirling in my head — how many songs has Cory sung, how much time do I have, I need to change out my mic pack for the different room, where are Carrie-Anne and Whitney? And then I heard the singing, I saw the faces of my co-ministers, and I choked up. Our church unity was on full display. The accomplishment was right in front of us. The grace of our God was so evident. Our Lord was very good to us during the nine months we worshiped in the gym. He is good to us today. And he is blessing us together in the future. Praise him.

Peace,

Allan

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