Official Website of Tyler Mayforth | Delaware Born | NOLA Living

Author: Tyler Mayforth Page 6 of 11

Currently working in New Orleans, Louisiana as a communications assistant for the U.S. Track & Field and Cross Country Coaches Association. Former ink-stained wretch who last worked in Athens, Georgia. This blog is for random musings in my life and career.

A Rainy Day With The Bayou Bengals

Cross another stadium — and sports experience — off the list.

On Saturday I ventured to Baton Rouge, Louisiana — and more importantly, Tiger Stadium — to watch Louisiana State University (or LSU) face Western Kentucky University (WKU). For a half it seemed as if the Hilltoppers were ready to play up to the Tigers, but then the host stepped up and flexed its muscle. LSU eventually won 48-20 and remained undefeated at 7-0, while WKU collected a paycheck and is 5-2.

As always when I write on this blog, the game is secondary to the experience and all of that good stuff. Let’s break it all down, but first you should see a picture I took.

Tiger Stadium

Here is a view of Tiger Stadium from the outside. Those clouds let loose with some rain.

  • Whomever first said “It never rains in Tiger Stadium” is a liar. Well, maybe not since maybe what fell on or heads in volume on Saturday wasn’t rain. “I’ve never felt warmer snow in my life,” one fan sitting next to me said as he adjusted his poncho. You can’t fault him for having a sense of humor. Hurricane Patricia definitely sent her regards to Baton Rouge, though.
  • This was the fifth college football stadium I’ve been to as a fan. Here are the rest in no particular order: Delaware Stadium, Villanova Stadium, Darryl K. Royal Memorial Stadium (Texas) and Kyle Field (Texas A&M). If you count the Georgia Dome (2015 Peach Bowl), then that makes six. Kind of funny that three of the stadiums I’ve been to are among the largest in the nation with Kyle Field and Tiger Stadium coming in at fourth and sixth.
  • As expected, LSU fans were welcoming to a newcomer. I heard good things about them, but they were reinforced Saturday. I wandered around and had my share of white bean jambalaya and Bar-B-Q. Can’t go wrong there.
  • Tiger Stadium was incredibly loud at half capacity. I can only imagine what it was like last week when rival Florida came knocking and lost 35-28.
  • If you want to hear the spectrum of accents, sit in the upper deck of Tiger Stadium. Truly felt as if I was an extra in the movie “The Waterboy.”
  • LSU fans run a gauntlet of emotions in one drive and I’m pretty sure they work themselves through the seven stages of grief, too. Look, it’s just an incomplete pass on first down. And it’s OK if Les Miles chooses to run the ball when it’s pouring down rain. Your team has the best running back in all of college football (Leonard Fournette). He deserves to have the ball. As an aside, if Fournette wins the Heisman Trophy — and it’s looking more and more like he will — it’s pretty cool that I got to see him live. Fournette had a good game Saturday, rushing 26 times for 150 yards and one touchdown.
  • Walmart ponchos do the trick. Spent $5 on my way to the game and it was a very worthy investment. Need one in a pinch? It will do just fine.

There might be more as I reflect more, but if not, there you go. Enjoy another pic.

IMAG0088

Here is a view from outside the stadium as I left to go back to my car.

House of Shock and Halloween Happenings

Ten-year-old me was a pansy.

I’m going to call it as I see it.

My aunt always took me and my twin sister on little excursions and during one October weekend, she decided we were old enough to try our hand at one of the scariest haunted houses in the nation — the Eastern State Penitentiary. Every October, they turn the abandoned prison that housed Al Capone and a few other known gangsters back in the day into an extreme haunted house. It already has a bunch of history behind it, so why not lock people up in cells and that stuff?

As we got near the front of the line after at least a two-hour wait, I began to chicken out in a big way. I’m pretty sure I started crying, so my aunt tried to console me and took me out of line while her friend waited with my sister. They were still keen on going through with it, but there was no way I could do it and keep my sanity. Well, eventually my sister decided it wasn’t for her either and we gave up on the idea.

Fast forward 20 years or so to this past Friday night.

I had seen ads for one of the scariest haunted houses in the nation called “House of Shock,” which is located about 20 minutes from where I live in New Orleans. I asked folks from my kickball team if they wanted to join and one other person said ‘Sure.’

So off we went.

Long story short, it was a good time. While I had to duck through some of the rooms and it ruined some of the jump scares, they caught me slipping a few times which is all I could really ask for as an adult in those places. My only complaint was that they let too many people go through the “House of Shock” at once. It would have been a lot better if they spaced out the groups more so the volunteers could get back into position and you could be scared more than knowing what was about to come.

Did I atone for chickening out 20 years ago at the Eastern State Penitentiary? Not a chance in Hell. One of these years I’m going to fly back home and make the drive up to Philadelphia and conquer that haunted house. But if I blog about that experience and say I peed myself, please don’t make fun of me. We’re all allowed one as adults.

Kickball Recap 2: Crank That 2-0

Halfway through what turned out to be a 17-5 win for “Big Black Balls,” the team formerly known as “Free Kicks” (Yeah, I don’t know either. We batted around the idea of “Stranger Danger,” which I liked a lot more), “Crank That (Soulja Boy)” by none other than Soulja Boy blared over the Bluetooth speaker set at home plate.

For a moment, everything else — like kickball — became secondary. We just wanted to dance.

For those ‘older’ players like myself on the rosters, we were taken back to our senior years of college or right after we graduated (me). Slightly younger players probably remembered the song from their freshman or sophomore years in college or possibly the senior years in high school. The folks who JUST graduated college were probably in diapers when that song came out back in 2007.

Anyway, after the second verse — which is probably all anybody can hear of that song any longer — we got back to business with me at pitcher (wanted to try my hand at it after playing third base for a while) and someone other than me (of course) at-bat.

Other songs played throughout the night, but none really stood out to where the game came to a halt and everybody either danced or rapped along to the lyrics.

We needed some levity in the game since it was a rout from the start. We led 7-0 after the first inning and 11-0 after the second. We debated on putting up the max number of runs available (35, or seven per inning), but decided against it.

Another good game for the team as we are still undefeated at 2-0.

AB H R 1B 2B 3B HR RBI BB
Game Stats 3 3 2 1 1 1 0 3 0
Season Stats 5 5 5 2 2 1 0 4 1

Kickball Recap 1: Coming Through In The Clutch

Right before I stepped to the plate for my final at-bat of my team’s season opener in kickball on Wednesday, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

It was the umpire assigned to officiate our game.

“Look, I don’t want to put any additional pressure on you right now, but look at your team.”

He pointed in the direction of my teammates. Moments before, I guess they all took a knee like Tim Tebow before a game. It might have been four years late, but my team — “Free Kicks” — was definitely “Tebowing.”

“Thanks, guys,” I yelled over. “I need all the prayers I can get.”

Pressure, though? What pressure?

  • There were two outs in the bottom of the seventh.
  • My team, down 5-2, staged a rally and the tying run was on third.
  • I worked the count full (3-2) and already fouled off one kick, so as the rules state, my next kick has to be in fair territory or it’s an out. Plus, if the ball clipped the strike zone and I let it go, I’d be punched out on strikes — and the game would be over.

Oh. That pressure.

The opposing pitcher rolled the yellow sphere in my direction and it took a hop just as it was about to cross the plate. Earlier in the game I saw another pitch bounce and I let it go — but that one was ruled a strike, so I had a decision to make. Let it go and leave it to the umpire’s discretion or pound it into the outfield. I let it go.

A few seconds passed before the umpire called “Ball” and I took my base. While I stood on first, the pitcher looked over at me and said, “Really? I put that one right down the middle for you. How did you take that?” I smirked and said, “I guess I have a good eye” — but deep down I know I should have whaled it. I was 2 for 2 with a single, RBI double and two runs scored before that, so I had the “hot foot.”

Oh well.

Two plays later I scored the winning run.

We should have lost, but the breaks went our way.

On the ensuing play, the pitcher and third baseman collided trying to make a play on a pop-up. The ball dropped and I got to second. Then the next kick should have been caught as well, but the second baseman botched it and I kept motoring around the bases until I touched home.

We celebrated like we won the World Series and made plans to meet up at a local bar to continue the festivities.

Throughout the entire night, everything felt normal. The camaraderie was there and nothing felt forced. I attribute it to the fact that we were a team full of free agents (hence ‘Free Kicks’) and most of us weren’t from New Orleans to begin with.

All in all, it was a great debut.

Tyler Tracker: 2 for 2, 3 R, 1 1B, 1 2B, 1 RBI, 1 BB.

Getting Ready To Kick(Ball) It In New Orleans

The wait is over.

Prepare yourself, PlayNOLA.

Next week, your fearless blogger (That’s me, in case you don’t know) will hopefully play in his first Adult Kickball League game in New Orleans. I say hopefully, because right now I’m a “free agent.” I’d like to consider myself the LeBron James of Kickball and that hundreds of teams (OK, several of them) are vying for my bazooka-like leg.

I’ve been looking for something to occupy my free time and this could be a perfect thing to do once per week. Plus, it would get my competitive juices flowing again.

So what does this mean for you, my wonderful reader(s)?

Well, I plan on breaking down each of my games from my stat line (probably 0 for 3 with three fly outs based on how my pickup games went) to interactions with my teammates and everywhere in between. Because, why not? It’s something fun to do.

Be on the lookout for this series beginning next Thursday. Games are Wednesdays.

P.S. — Found out I’m on the team called “Free Kicks.” We shall see how it goes.

Who Dat: The Story of My First Saints Game

Who Dat!?

Am I doing that right?

Good.

So I went to my first Saints game tonight. It was a religious experience.

Seriously, I saw the Pope. All right, not that pope — but it was one of four or five “Saints Popes,” who are mainstays in the Superdome and sit in the same section.

Whenever I meet someone new, one of their first questions is, “Are you a Saints fan?” I tell them I just moved down here not too long ago, but am not adverse to it.

Overall, I don’t think I could have been to a  better sermon than I did on Sunday.

From start (a Better Than Ezra benefit concert for their charity, in which I got in for free) to finish (Drew Brees’ game-winning 80-yard touchdown pass to C.J. Spiller in overtime), the experience was top-notch. Heck, even our seats — which were at the very top row of the upper deck — allowed us our own private “suite” area (OK. OK. There was a legit metal bar in front of us and a landing behind us, so we could stand).

There were two things that really stood out to me the most Sunday night as I took in the whole experience: Saints fans are unlike any others I’ve been around (and that includes my trip to the CONCACAF Gold Cup in Atlanta) and as much as this topic has been belabored about ad nauseam, New Orleans pulls together in those hours.

An incredible sense of camaraderie surrounded the tailgate and permeated inside the stadium. People of all walks of life love their Saints and just want to see a win. I heard the spirits of New Orleans residents are on high the day following a win and there is just a new aura about the city. So far I hadn’t experienced that, since there were nothing but losses before Sunday night. Then Brees found Spiller on a wheel route and the running back slipped one tackle and was off to the races to pay dirt.

As we filed down the ramps of the Superdome, cheers of “Who Dat” rang through the corridors. Then they got louder as we left the stadium. I couldn’t help but join in as I made my way through the crowd and walked back to my downtown apartment.

Addendums

There was definitely a different energy around the city today. As I walked to work, there were some people saying “Who Dat” to each other. Certain restaurants offered lunchtime specials thanks to the win.

And just to be clear: My No. 1 team is stil the Philadelphia Eagles. I had some great memories watching their games. And while I’m a fan of the Baltimore Ravens because of Joe Flacco (University of Delaware connection), No. 2 team is still up for grabs. Just might be the Saints now.

Memory Lane, Griak Invitational and Facebook Feature Friday

Who could have thought a simple series of Facebook posts for work would send me down memory lane these past two Fridays? Well, I did as soon as I started working on the second part of our “Facebook Feature Friday” series two weeks ago.

For a little background, I made it my mission about one month ago to improve the reach and the number of likes of the Facebook fan page of the U.S. Track & Field and Cross Country Coaches Association. (USTFCCCA). I had been successful in the past with fan pages dating back to my days at the San Marcos Daily Record with “Texas State Sports,” so I figured why not try my hand at one that has a following already?

My goal of the series is to profile either the biggest or most story-line-driven cross country meet of the weekend for our page. So far they’ve been pretty successful.

The inaugural post was about the St. Olaf Invitational hosted by St. Olaf College.

Simplistically, the narrative for Saturday’s St. Olaf Invitational writes itself.

How could it not?

Host St. Olaf College, ranked No. 2 nationally in Division III, is out for revenge against fourth-ranked UW-Eau Claire. Last year the Blugolds beat the Oles on their home course and knocked them from their vantage point overlooking the DIII landscape. St. Olaf entered last year’s meet ranked No. 1 and UW-Eau Claire was No. 4 — but the win shot the Blugolds into second and dropped the Oles to third.

Read the rest of that post by going here: “So We Meet Again.”

Then the following week I put did some good reporting and dug up a good feature (at least in my eyes) on the Roy Griak Invitational. Here is part of that profile.

One question can often have multiple answers.

That’s because sometimes that question isn’t as straightforward as once thought.

“What makes the Roy Griak Invitational special?”

For those in charge of putting the meet together – like Griak Invitational Executive Director Gary Wilson and Minnesota Director of Men’s Track & Field/Cross Country Steve Plasencia – the answer centers on the help they receive.

“Our volunteers don’t get enough credit,” Wilson said. “We get paid to do these things, but they bust their tails throughout the week to make sure it goes off without a hitch.”

Read the rest by going here: “What Makes the Roy Griak Invitational Special?”

I already had my answer to that question in mind once I asked it out loud. It didn’t take me long at all to answer since it stood out plain as day in big, bold lettering.

That was the meet where I finally felt like a Division I cross country runner.

Don’t get me wrong: Every meet before that had its own gravitas. I mean I was a Division I athlete, something not a lot of people can say. I truly take pride in that. But what stood out the most was the competition I ran against (several future All-Americans) and that our coach wanted us to mix it up with the best in the nation.

Did I race well? Hell no. That course ate me alive. Griak Invitational Meet Director Gary Wilson told me, “Those people who try to fight the course really, really pay for it in the end. If you don’t become ‘one’ with the course, it beats the crap out of you.” I couldn’t help but agree. I finished second on the team, for whatever that’s worth.

This Feature Friday initiative has really helped me understand what cross country meant to me all those years ago. Looking back on it, I ran at the Griak Invitational in 2006 and there was a race that went off today that I competed in 10 years ago.

Wow. I’m getting old.

Catching Up Since the Move to New Orleans

New Orleans.

Wow.

I never thought I’d call The Big Easy home.

Hell, if you told me after I graduated from the University of Delaware that within the next eight years I’d live in New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine, Texas, Georgia and Louisiana, I wouldn’t have believed you. Life takes you where it damn well pleases.

So what have I been up to since I moved a little more than one month ago?

Primarily I’ve been trying to adjust to the 9-to-5 lifestyle — not so much in the sense of waking up earlier compared to newspapers and such, but the “extra” time. While I know 40-hour weeks are 40-hour weeks, working 9 to 5 frees up a lot more time in my mind than working in newspapers ever did. Maybe it’s because I have weekends off for the first time in my career — or that it’s still bright out when I leave the office.

With all of that ‘free time’ at my disposal, I’ve tried to put myself out there as much as possible and hit a groove socially — and that doesn’t mean I’m spending every waking hour on Bourbon Street even though I live four blocks from there. By the way, mix the smells of urine and bad decisions and that’s the odor of Bourbon St.

For the first few Thursdays I found a group that played pickup dodgeball in a rec center not too far from me. While the games were fine and I forgot how much fun dodgeball was, getting my iPhone 6 stolen the first week I was in town wasn’t fun.

Pickup dodgeball soon ended as the season geared up (I missed the signup date), so I have since transferred my talents to pickup kickball. That’s also an activity I hadn’t played since sixth grade. Soccer players really have an advantage in that I’ve found.

Where I’ve spent most of my time, especially since college football is back in full swing, is covering Tulane for a site called Underdog Dynasty. In case y’all forgot, the Green Wave is (and I really had that it’s a singular team name) awful. That’s why I take the Dr. Strangelove approach to the games and say “Tyler Covers Tulane: Or How I Learned to Stop Caring and Love Bad Football.” To be completely honest, it’s been great to be back in a press box again. I also love the thrill of covering a game and while I don’t have a ‘deadline’ since I’m writing for online, I pressure myself to get it done as soon as possible. That doesn’t make game nights much fun — but I love to write and it keeps me out of trouble. In my opinion, one of the best articles I wrote so far for Underdog Dynasty was this piece: From Goat to Hero: The Ballad of Tulane WR Devon Breaux. That’s also the first game I caught Green Wave Fever.

So yeah, I’m trying to find things to do — but more importantly, I’m trying to find my groove. They say, “You don’t call New Orleans. It will call you.” Baby, I’m listening.

Sky Photography: There Are 1,000 Words Up There

For some reason — and I can’t name it — I always have been fascinated with the sky.

I never wanted to be a pilot to soar through the clouds or a meteorologist to know what was going on up there, but something about it called me. It’s just one of those things that you always think about, but you never understand you’re obsession.

Well, I wouldn’t call it an obsession, but I love taking pictures of awesome cloud formations as well as Picassoesque sunsets canvasing the sky before nightfall.

Up top is a picture I took during my family vacation in Savannah. Here are other examples of my wonderful — but rather simple — photography of the sky.

This view is from my current office building in New Orleans. I was told on the good days, you can see a storm rolling in over Lake Pontchartrain. This was one of them.

Took this one as my dad and I recently traversed the South to get to Louisiana.

Was lucky enough to snag this one outside of my hotel in Metairie, Louisiana.

This one is my favorite. Taken outside of Wednesday night trivia in Athens, Georgia.

If you follow me on Twitter (@tylermayforth), you’ll see me sporadically post these kinds of pictures. I don’t take them every day, but as you can see, when I take them they turn out pretty good. Like I said, there is just something about the sky.

Clark Kent Left the Daily Planet

Goodnight, sweet prince. You served me well.

Goodnight, sweet prince. You served me well for more than one year at the Banner-Herald.

It started to hit me when I turned off my computer for the last time at the Athens Banner-Herald. Rarely did I turn it off before (mostly logged out), but it felt right.

Once I walked out the door and it shut behind me, the realization hit like a truck.

That very well could have been my final day in newspapers. Not for the week. Not for the month — but for life. Nearly eight years in the business and then cold turkey.

What I felt wasn’t remorse, because I accomplished what I set out to do. My first and only goal that I can remember in journalism was to become a college beat writer by the time I was 25. I accomplished that when I accepted my second full-time job at the ripe age of 22.

I grew exponentially — not only as a worker, but as a person — from the time I started my foray into journalism with the Connecticut Valley Spectator in New Hampshire its endpoint at the Banner-Herald. In between, the now-defunct Bar Harbor Times in Maine and the San Marcos Daily Record in Texas (where I achieved that aforementioned goal) served as strong launching pads.

Journalism will always have my heart but I knew there was something out there for me, which is why I looked elsewhere and eventually found my current job with the United States Track & Field Cross Country Coaches Association.

And what is life without adventure? Thanks to journalism I’ve been able to live in three states and the skills I honed in Texas led me on a path to New Orleans. Plus, those skills I honed, which included my multimedia chops and page design, among others, allowed me to become a versatile worker who can plug and play anywhere.

Near the end of my run in Athens, I thought I put out some good work. Here are two designs I thought turned out really well. It’s funny how you hit a stride at the end.

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