Tyler Mayforth

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Category: Sports

CONCACAF Gold Cup And My Sports Bucket List

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On July 22, 2015

In Georgia, Sports

By the time you read this, I’ll already be on my way — or already have been — to the Georgia Dome to watch the semifinals of the CONCACAF Gold Cup. The first game pits the United States against Jamaica; Mexico takes on Panama in the second clash.

Tickets have been sold out for more than a week. Prices on second-hand sites rose $15 or more across the board in the day it took me to decide to go. It’s going to be mayhem inside the Georgia Dome as more than 70,000 fans will be chanting back and forth throughout both games, trying to will their nations into the title match.

To be honest, it didn’t take me that long to know I wanted to go. Soccer, more so international soccer, had my heart since I went to summer camp in New Hampshire.

There was such an international influence at William Lawrence Camp each summer that you heard counselors argue and debate about their favorite club teams. When the World Cup happened — and I think I was there for one or two — chaos reigned.

Near the end of each summer, counselors would trade personal tokens, which often would included soccer jerseys being swapped for regional items from the U.S. There were two summers in a row where I brought home a Portugal national team jersey and one from Hertha BSC Berlin (Yeah, I don’t really know either, but go with it).

After I quit going back to William Lawrence Camp, I bought a new jersey every year from an online store. One spring my sister went abroad to England and brought me a reversible national jersey, which was absolutely one of my favorites to show off.

Through those purchases and trades, I grew to like soccer more. I don’t mind kicking the ball around — even though I still toe it when I shoot — and even served as goalie for the camp’s counselor team in our annual grudge match against Belknap. Yet, the true joy comes from watching soccer being played at the highest level — Premier League, UEFA Champions League, CONCACAF Gold Cup and the highest of them all, the World Cup. Last year I think I watched every game the United States played in Brazil and caught a majority of the other matches. The camaraderie that comes from cheering for your nation is second to none and one of the best memories was when I was in the St. Louis airport coming back from my interview in Athens and we huddled around this one bar that had one TV to watch the game against Belgium.

Today I’ll watch many of those same players from the United States Men’s National Team try to reach a sixth consecutive CONCACAF Gold Cup final. From what I’ve read about Jamaica, this game won’t be easy for the Yanks. Jamaica hasn’t allowed a goal in 287 minutes or something crazy like that and they always play them tough.

Win or lose, I’m really excited to see an international soccer game. I’m fired up to be in that atmosphere and will cross off yet another item from my sports bucket list.

P.S. — You should read the game story I wrote on a soccer match earlier this year.

P.P.S. — I know it’s Wednesday night, but I got a team member holding trivia down.

I Actually Like The Home Run Derby

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On July 14, 2015

In Sports

I’m not going to lie: I actually like the Home Run Derby.

The NBA Dunk Contest can go up in flames for all I care, but if the Home Run Derby ever ceases to exist, Major League Baseball will get a strongly worded letter from me (with or without letters cut out from magazines, I haven’t decided). Yes, yours truly would actually spend the time to write a physical letter and not send an email.

Like everything else in my life, things I truly enjoy come down to nostalgia. Believe it or not, the Home Run Derby tickles my memory chords just like the Boston Red Sox.

I make sure to watch the Home Run Derby every year. I can’t remember the first one I ever saw but the last one was Monday night when Todd Frazier won in Cincy.

But, Tyler, what happened during those nine summers when you were at summer camp? Good question. After all, the Home Run Derby often falls around the same time every summer (second Monday in July) and that would have been right at the start of the third week of the first session at William Lawrence Camp. My parents were awesome and taped the Home Run Derby — as well as the All-Star Game — every summer so I could watch it when I got home. To be perfectly honest, when I got home, I went right to those tapes every single time. I’m a creature of habit.

Other than the nostalgia, I love the Home Run Derby because I’m a baseball fan, first and foremost. My favorite sports memories as a fan were often at a ballpark.

Secondly, who doesn’t like seeing professional ball players crush mammoth home runs that many of us could only dream about hitting. Plus, most of those home runs either come close to going out of the stadium or carom off something fun.

When I talked to my buddy Todd tonight, he reminded me that next year’s All-Star Game will be held at Petco Park. That got me giddy thinking of what could happen during the Home Run Derby. The warehouse is just beckoning for it to be pelted.

Take a look at what the Long Haul Bombers did at Petco Park. Oh, boy!

Fenway Park and Memories With Dad

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On June 21, 2015

In Life Stuff, Sports

My girlfriend recently asked me why I’d consider myself a Red Sox fan.

First and foremost, I’m a Phillies fan. Let’s get that out of the way. Most of my top baseball memories occurred while watching the Phillies either at Veterans Stadium, Citizens Bank Park or several road stadiums, including Turner Field last September.

When it’s not possible to watch the Phillies in person, however, I must make simple concessions and last Wednesday was one of those times. I had yet to attend a pro game and the Red Sox were in Atlanta to play the Braves, so we ventured west-ish.

I told my girlfriend that I spent nine summers of my life in New Hampshire at a great summer camp (William Lawrence Camp) and learned to like them through diffusion, but also went to three games at Fenway Park during that span. None of those trips compared to the first time I went to Fenway Park after my first summer at camp.

See, parents had the option of sending their boy(s) away for two weeks, four weeks or eight weeks. Until I moved up the ranks and became a counselor — which came with a mandatory 10-week tenure — my parents chose the four-week option. After all, it would be rather pointless and a lot of money to only spend two weeks there.

My first summer at William Lawrence Camp wasn’t the best as I battled a severe case of homesickness and bullying. Needless to say, I couldn’t wait to see my family when they came to pick me up from camp on July 20, 1996 (Yeah, I looked it up).

Once they rumbled up Federal Corner Road and plucked me and my belongings, we set out on a family trip to Boston, which was about a three-hour drive from camp.

The second day we were in Bean Town, my sister and mom went on an adventure while my dad and I set out on one of our own. Little did I know that when our walk ended, we’d end up in front of Fenway Park with the Red Sox facing the Orioles.

When we got inside the ballpark, my dad told me to follow him as we went to our seats. We kept getting closer and closer and closer and closer. I had to ask him a few times if we were allowed to be there. He said not to worry and sure enough, we sat in our seats — two rows behind home plate. As an 11-year-old, this was just insane.

I still remember the pitching matchup: Roger Clemens vs. Mike Mussina. Like most games I attend, I kept score — but have since lost that scorecard — so I had to look up if it was a pitching duel. Not so much. Clemens and Mussina went deep into the game (Clemens was lifted in the eighth; Mussina after seven), but weren’t as sharp as they could be (Clemens allowed five runs on eight hits; Mussina three on five).

I also remember there being a game-tying home run in the ninth inning (Jeff Manto hit it), but little else. Evidently Baltimore won 10-6 after scoring five in the 10th.

Everything about that day still make me smile to this day. I couldn’t see my face that day, but I am sure it broke through my face like a cartoon since it was that big.

My girlfriend also said something while we were sitting on the tailgate of her SUV before the game (and I’m paraphrasing) — “Don’t laugh at me, but there’s something magical about the ballpark. I don’t know what it is, but it’s just there.” I laughed like a boyfriend is supposed to, but deep down I couldn’t help but to agree with her.

Elation, Pressure and the Belmont Stakes

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On June 7, 2015

In Journalism, Sports

Elation to buried under mounds of self-induced pressure.

That’s how my Saturday night went on desk at the Banner-Herald.

Why? Well, I’m glad you asked.

Around 6:40 p.m., I walked from our downtown office to Mellow Mushroom on my way to getting dinner. Thanks to my reconnaissance during trivia nights, I knew that place had a lot of TVs and a low-pressure waitstaff, which would allow me to settle in and potentially watch history be made with a plethora of other cheering patrons.

See, American Pharoah needed to win the Belmont Stakes on Saturday to complete the elusive Triple Crown. It had been 37 years since Affirmed last did so in 1978.

I’m one of those folks who, like many I’m sure, loves to see sports history unfold in front of their eyes. Needless to say, I wanted to be in front of a TV on Saturday.

Sure enough, American Pharoah led wire-to-wire and pulled away at the end for a comfortable victory. I exchanged high-fives with people around me and walked out.

I had more important things to do, like design an eye-catching centerpiece. Oh, boy!

Once I got back to the office and got settled, I began to sift through the avalanche of images the Associated Press snapped at Belmont Park. I pulled a few that caught my attention and knew eventually they’d post one that would pull everything together.

I cycled through designs and suddenly felt a load of stress on my shoulders. It wasn’t like deadline staring me down (I still had a few hours), but the self-induced pressure of being a perfectionist. I wanted the front page of the sports section to pop since it was a big moment and let’s face it — how many are on desk when history happens?

Time marched on and while I had something on the page that looked good enough, it wasn’t great. I wasn’t going to accept anything less than great in my eyes, so I hit delete and combed through the AP’s stockpile again until something stood out.

Eventually I found an aerial of the finish, which had enough air for me to work with.

Then I found a sidebar from the AP that broke down the keys to victory in the race.

Slowly, but surely, the puzzle came together until I truly liked the finished result.

What UDXC/TF Really Meant To Me

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On June 6, 2015

In Life Happenings, Sports

I never expected to be a Division I athlete.

Heck, as a high school freshman I was 5-foot-1, 105 pounds. If that.

During freshman orientation at Mount Pleasant High School (Go Green Knights), they had tables set up in the library manned by various sports coaches.Scrawny me went up to the football table and got laughed away. Seriously, what was I thinking? Then I walked across the room to the cross country table and they welcomed me with open arms. I’m sure they never turned someone away, probably for the better.

And after one failed attempt at playing baseball my freshman year, I turned my full attention toward running (cross country and track). Funny story: The football coach was also the track coach, like many are, and chuckled when he saw me come out.

Over the next four years I grew physically (Thank God) and athletically. By the time I was a junior, I became a decent runner. Then my senior year it all came together.

I placed fourth at the state cross country meet, seventh in the 1,600-meter run of the state track and field meet and third in the 3,200-meter run at the same event. I capped my prep career at the Meet of Champions, where I ran 10:06 in the 3,200.

Fast forward nine months and I toed the starting line as a varsity member of the University of Delaware track and field team. What happened between May 2003 and March 2004 isn’t really important. I ended up at UD, mainly because of the in-state tuition, went out for cross country/track and field because I knew I loved to run and before I knew it, I ran the 10,000 meters at the Monmouth Invitational.

Over the next four years I ran in plenty more races, lettered three times in cross country as well as indoor and outdoor track, but that’s not what sticks with me.

Eight years after my last race, I still feel as if I have the confidence that becoming a Division I athlete gave me. I worked hard for that. While I ostracized (or vilified) myself from the team — and today that remains as one of my biggest regrets — the feeling of being a part of something and the accomplishment of putting myself in that position to succeed urges me on not only in my athletic endeavors, but life.

There I am! And boy, am I white. (Photo courtesy DelawareOnline.com)

Today, no other guys can embark on that road since the University of Delaware axed the varsity cross country and track teams back in 2011. Our coach since left for greener pastures and only remnants remain in the form of two club teams.

Recently, an effort has been made to restore the program. According to that story from The News Journal in Wilmington, Delaware, a father of a runner who was on the team when it was cut filed a complaint to the Delaware Division of Human Relations that states the University of Delaware violated a state law in doing so.

Who knows how far it will go — if it gains any traction at all. I hope it creates some kind of ripple that will end the same way the recent fiasco involving the University of Alabama at Birmingham football program did — with it being fully reinstated.

I’m not going to get my hopes up, but I’ll keep my fingers crossed there’s good news.

——————————-

Now’s probably one of the best time to post that clip of me nearly killing myself (not really) during the 3,000-meter steeplechase. Even made America’s Funniest Videos.

Spidey Senses: Bad for Journalists, Great for Fans

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On May 16, 2015

In Journalism, Sports

Work in an industry long enough, you begin to develop “Spidey Senses.”

This goes for any line of work, but journalism is one of those where those senses are honed and trained, because something can change in less than a moment’s notice.

Such was the case Friday night in the Athens Banner-Herald sports department.

Two hours until deadline I let the sports editor know our centerpiece had to change since the original art wasn’t good enough. I could create an element, but good art is good art and good art pulls a centerpiece together and draws readers to the page.

A quick succession of texts set Plan B — Hawks-Wizards Game 6 — in motion (“OK. Cool) and put my “Spidey Senses” on high alert (“Hawks are up big”).

At the time, Atlanta led Washington by 10 or more points in the third quarter. But if you paid attention to the series at all, Game 3 and Game 5 were decided on the final basket while Game 4 turned on a missed shot, so Game 6 would likely follow suit.

With 30 minutes until deadline, I turned on the TV to see the Hawks squander a five-point lead with less than five minutes left. Then, as if I knew it would happen all along, the Wizards had a chance to send the game to overtime. I turned to a fellow desker and told her, “Watch this. One shot is going to destroy my front. I know it.”

Paul Pierce received a pass from John Wall, dribbled into the corner and fired up a 3-pointer at the buzzer. Swish! If it held up on replay, the game would be tied.

I started to move elements around to centerpiece Plan A.

Referees concluded the ball left Pierce’s fingertips a split-second too late.

Atlanta celebrated. Washington was in shock. My centerpiece survived.

If you’re a fan of basketball, the Hawks or Wizards, Friday night was a treat.

If you were on desk or writing about the game, your “Spidey Senses” got a workout.

How about some other instances in which my “Spidey Senses” went into overdrive?

  • Back in 2009, Texas State led Southeastern Louisiana by 24 points early in the fourth quarter of a Southland Conference football game. Like a fool, I started to write my game story — then stopped. I turned to a colleague and told him the game was far from over. Sure enough, the Lions scored three consecutive touchdowns and added the ensuing two-point conversions, sending the game to overtime. Southeastern Louisiana scored first in the extra period. The Bobcats answered and missed the extra-point attempt.
  • I wrote about this before, but late in Texas State’s win over Denver in the 2013 Western Athletic Conference Basketball Tournament, I heard the players chanting something on the bench. After the game, I asked what it was and the head coach told me “No comment.” That sent my “Spidey Senses” off in a good way, which led me to an award-winning angle.

Phil Mickelson and other athletes I love to cheer

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On April 12, 2015

In Golf, Sports

Throughout the work day yesterday, a co-worker and I had the Masters Golf Tournament on in the background as we pieced together another solid Sunday paper. The TV served as white noise for the simple matter that neither of us like silence and it was incredible to see what 21-year-old Jordan Spieth was doing.

Then, in one instant, we stopped our work and glued our eyes on the TV set.

Phil Mickelson was measuring his second shot on Firethorn, the par-5 15th.

Mickelson addressed his ball and let loose a fantastic swing. His shot climbed into the blue Augusta sky and bounced 10 feet from the hole. Could it dunk the cup?

We both yelled in unison: “Come on, Phil. Get that (double-eagle) albatross.”

As the ball narrowly missed the pin and rolled past the hole, our moment in unison gave way to a laugh and Mickelson soon two-putted for a birdie to drop him to -11.

Could you imagine the ensuing roar that would echo through Augusta National if that shot fell? After all, Mickelson has a flair for the dramatic at the Masters. Don’t tell me you forgot this shot from Mickelson five years ago on Azalea, the par-5 13th.

I don’t know why, but Mickelson is one of those players people love to cheer. There were two of us in the Athens (Ga.) Banner-Herald newsroom rooting for his quick climb up the leaderboard to put pressure on Spieth, who fell back to Earth a bit.

Other than Mickelson, there are a few athletes I always want to see succeed.

Paul Goldschmidt — I covered Goldschmidt, also known as “GOLDY” in my close circle, for two years at Texas State. He’s a total class act and one of the first guys I covered to make it to the professional level. While I don’t watch too many of his games since he plays for the Arizona Diamondbacks, I’ll always check the box score and give a small nod of approval should I see a home run or similar big hits.

Joplo Bartu — Bartu is another athlete I covered at Texas State. After he set the field on fire in 2012, Bartu was signed by the Atlanta Falcons as an undrafted free agent (even though if Dennis Franchione didn’t foolishly move him to defensive end, he could have been a mid-round draft pick, but I digress). Injuries moved Bartu into a starting role as a rookie and he’s been solid ever since then. Plus, he’s a great guy and was always incredibly honest and open with me during interviews.

The underdog — Maybe that’s what drew me to Mickelson all those years ago. I can say for sure that’s what made covering the San Marcos Lady Rattlers last year in the Texas Class 5A state playoffs so much fun. No one expected them to win district or bi-district or area or the regional quarterfinal. Plus, I got some great clips from it.

I’m sure there are others, but those are the ones that jumped into my mind first.

Photo courtesy of The Associated Press/Matt Slocum.

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