Wide World of Stuff

Dear Theo,

Hi! It’s Daddy! You know, Daddy, the guy who’s always tying your hockey skates super tight before practices and games, and the man who is constantly reminding you to pick your clothes up off the floor and PLEASE don’t throw that ball against the window because this time it might actually break!

It’s the night before your 8th birthday, Halloween of course, and it’s time for my annual attempt at summing up the last 12 months of your life in several hundred words.

Oh Theo. Theo, Theo, Theo. You were most certainly born on the right day of the calendar, because you continue to be a trick and a treat.

As you turn 8, Mommy and I are so proud of you, because the outlines of the man you will become are starting to become clearer and clearer.

This year has seen a lot of change, but two major things haven’t changed at all: First, your complete worship of the sport of hockey. It’s been growing for a few years now, your obsession with all things ice and pucks, but this year it’s gone to another level.

Despite deep reservations we had, we allowed you to join a travel hockey team, the Long Island Edge, this fall. (we were worried it was too much hockey, too soon, but also realized that this is the way you’ll get better, by practicing more and playing games with kids who are at your level.)

You eat, sleep and breathe hockey, even eschewing your normal Halloween costume ideas (Ninja Turtle, Superhero, etc.) for being a hockey player for trick or treating this year. It’s been pretty amazing seeing how fast you’re improving; your skating has gone so much smoother, you’ve got natural defenseman instincts (I think that’s where you’re going to end up as a hockey player, because you’re really good at the poke check) and a few months ago you could never lift the puck up when you shot, and now you spray pucks all over, several feet off the ground.

Watching you play games and score goals has been thrilling, Theo. I hope you always love the sport as much as you do now.

The other thing that hasn’t changed is your love of theater. You were in a couple more local productions this year, including getting to play the big role of Belle’s father in “Beauty and the Beast Jr.” You memorized your lines and of course got to wear a cool costume (your favorite part) and sang the songs with such gusto. We fully expect you’ll be the first NHL player/Broadway star, rushing from MSG to the Winter Garden Theater 🙂

Your personality continues to shine, as you remain a human jukebox. Your music taste is truly eclectic; you love Pink Floyd and Guns N’ Roses (that’s my influence) but also show tunes and the Charlie Daniels Band classic “Devil Went Down to Georgia” and Alanis Morrissette and Christopher Cross. If anyone can find something those artists all have in common, you’re a better person than me.

In school you are thriving; your third grade teacher, Ms. Schieck, has told us how helpful you are in class to your buddies, and that you’re an excellent listener (she should come home with us sometime). You love writing and reading, and are currently writing a team yearbook for your hockey team, with each player’s likes and dislikes, and favorite team.

You still frustrate us with a lot of your behavior at home, Theo, not listening when we have to tell you multiple times to put down the iPad, or to clean up your hockey stuff, and sometimes you and your brother fight and both of you end up crying.

You are a constant contradiction in many ways, my child. You come off the school bus every day, see other kids hug and kiss their parents, and you barely acknowledge my existence while tossing me your backpack.

And yet, when I leave to go play tennis at night, or Mommy isn’t going to be home from work by bedtime, you insist we “kiss me while I’m sleeping” and always give me 4-5 hugs as I’m trying to walk out the door with my tennis rackets.

You ask SO many questions, Theo, some Daddy can answer because I know the answer (“who did the Rangers beat the win the Stanley Cup?” “What time are we going to Grammy and Papa’s, again?”), others I can’t answer because there is no good answer (“why can’t it be sunny all the time?” “Why can’t I have cookies at every meal?”) and others I just won’t answer because you’re 7 (a few weeks ago you watched a YouTube video and then queried “Why aren’t NBA players allowed to wear the No. 69?” After I got done laughing inside, I spouted something like “It’s too difficult for the referees to hold up those fingers when a foul is called. I mean, I can’t tell him the REAL reason, he’s a child!)

But your love of life, and excitement over things big and small, make us smile, Theo. You entertain your brother with your silly faces, and by playing games with him (“Light up Ball” is a current favorite, where you and Nate turn off all the lights in a room and throw around a basketball that glows in the dark).

We are so happy that you seem to be a happy, kind, and love-filled child, and we wish you nothing but awesome things in the year ahead.

Happy birthday, Theo, we love you to the moon and back.

Love, Daddy.

Dear Nate,

Hi, it’s Daddy! You know, Daddy, the one who you should be thanking every single day for not letting you become a New York Jets fan, and the one who you increasingly roll your eyes at when I embarrass you in front of your friends.

It’s time for your annual birthday letter, and boy what a year of change this has been. First as always I must say how incredibly proud Mommy and I are of you. You continue to be such a good human being, in all ways, whether it’s asking your Grammy if you can help her with anything, or showing our little friend Charlotte who’s a little scared of the Spider thing at the playground how to manage it, and not to be scared, you are always, always, always looking to be a helper.

You love volunteering at the food pantry Daddy works at, you love making sure all your friends are included in things.

Selfishly I’d like to think that’s because of the values Mommy and I have tried to instill in you and your brother, but I also know you’re now old enough and mature enough that a lot of that comes from you and has nothing to do with us.

It’s been a fantastic 12 months, Nate, as you’ve grown (literally) and grown as a person. You finished off elementary school with style, continuing to excel in math and science, and even though you SAY you hate writing (that hurts my soul when you say that), you’re actually quite good at it. Your short story last spring about the day Daddy “left” you at Hebrew school even though it was closed had us in stitches, laughing.

With the end of elementary school came the beginning of middle school, and I have to say you’re adjusting beautifully to new routines. It’s only been a week of school as I write this but so far you’re loving sixth grade. Having seven teachers instead of one all day, changing classes, getting your locker open and shut, and walking to school instead of taking the bus, all of these things have been as easy for you as eating a chocolate chip cookie for snack.

I know you will keep thriving and challenging yourself.

This year has seen you get a little more mature emotionally; you’re not as quick to fly off the handle or let little things bother you. You have gotten more serious about tennis, starting to play some tournaments now (Gee I have NO idea where that might come from, genetically), you continue to beat Daddy sometimes in Ping-Pong, and now even occasionally beat me at driveway 1-on-1 basketball.

Your music tastes have expanded, to current music I’ve never heard of (Benson Boone, that’s a real person’s name?) but you still like some of the classics I put on. We finally got you to watch “Finding Nemo” this year, and you loved it (of course you did, it’s fantastic). So many changes have been gradual, like not being as afraid of dogs anymore, and others have been sudden: When you came home from sleepaway camp, you had some new nighttime routines.

You have always been a leader and role model for others Nate, but none more so than how you lead Theo. Man, do you love that kid. So, so much. As he’s gotten older your relationship has only grown stronger, and it makes Mommy and I so happy.

Two examples about how much you love your brother: First, Theo joined you at sleepaway camp this summer. Before it started, you were worried he might “ruin” your summer home, might be a pest, etc.

Theo did four weeks at camp and loved it; you did seven weeks.

After the summer ended, you had such a great time sharing your special place with Theo, you declared you weren’t going back for the full seven-week session unless Theo came back, too.

“I didn’t know camp was going to be SO different with Theo not here,” you wrote to us during second session.

Brotherly love, indeed.

The second example is from this week: Tomorrow we’re celebrating your birthday with your friends party, held at an escape room in West Hempstead.

We have 17 kids coming, and the theme of the party is that 2 teams compete to see who can solve the mystery and escape, first.

How to pick who’s on who’s team? Well, the place said usually they just divide kids up when they arrive, you’re on Team 1, you’re on Team 2.

But nah, that’s boring. Since you two are both sports-obsessed and familiar with fantasy football drafts, you and Theo are having a “friends draft” today, where each of you will make a choice from the guest list, and awesome babysitter Grace will “announce” to the other brother who’s been drafted, and teams will be made.

Mommy thinks this is a little nuts, but I think it’s perfectly reasonable.

We are so, so proud of the man you’re becoming. You’re still a little boy to us in many ways, and still laugh at Daddy’s silly jokes even if you’ve heard them many times before (the poison mushroom joke is STILL funny!), but you’ve become such a good pre-teen. Hard to believe your bar mitzvah is only two years away!

For the coming year, Nate, I wish you as always, a Bills Super Bowl win, and more happiness. Keep smiling, keep shining, and keep listening to what Mommy and Daddy say, at least for a few more years.

Happy birthday, buddy. We love you!

Love, Daddy

P.S. You’re still wrong about Michael Jordan being the best basketball player of all time. LeBron James is. One day you’ll know I’m right.

On July 11, 2009, these words appeared in this space:

So as I sat in my eight-bedroom mansion by the lake the other night (actually, my two bedroom apartment near a fake pond, but whatever), I thought, “how can I help my fellow man today? Can I give my time to a worthy charity? Should I try to make a difference in the life of a child?”

Nah. There’s plenty of time for that in the future. So I decided to start a blog.

Does the world need another blog, especially one by a 33-year-old sports writer? Of course not. But then again, we didn’t need a reality show about housewives in New Jersey, but we got one.

I’m going to be mostly blogging about what I’m passionate about: sports (pro tennis, New York Jets football, Rangers hockey and Duke basketball), politics (my views are slightly to the right of Dennis Kucinich, but definitely to the left of Barack Obama, sadly, and I’m still a recovering John Edwards supporter), and pop culture (TV, movies, the strange and troubling popularity of Ryan Seacrest).

I can’t promise every post will be worthy of a Pulitzer, but hopefully this place will become a conversation between you and me.

Thanks for stopping by.

That was 16 years ago. Since then I have I written 3,110 blog posts here. Wide World of Stuff has been read (or clicked on) in 213 countries (if I may channel my inner Larry King “Hello, Burundi! Estonia, welcome!”), been read hundreds of thousands of times, and been a source of joy, of pride, and fun for me for all that time.

But everything must end, and so today I write with the news that Wide World of Stuff is going away.

Put a sock in it, say goodnight, Gracie, and arrivederci.

Why? A few reasons.

Number one, I just don’t have the time to do it well anymore. When I started this thing 16 years ago, I was still a fulltime sportswriter, I was married to someone else, I had no children, and lived in Central Florida. I started the blog partly because I saw the writing on the wall for my newspaper career, that it could be ending soon, and I wanted to make sure I had an outlet to write.

But that has never been a problem, stopping writing. I substitute taught for a few years in NYC schools, you may remember, and didn’t write much during those years, but since then I’ve been lucky enough to do plenty of freelance work to keep my fingers and brain busy.

And for the last year or two, I found doing the blog more a chore than a pleasure. Believe it or not, I used to write posts SIX times a week, which looking back on it now seems insane. Then I cut back to five a week, then after my first son was born, in 2014, went down to three times a week. Since then it’s pretty much been consistently thrice-weekly, but for several months now I haven’t even kept that up, sometimes only writing twice a week.

Between the kids and life and my freelance career starting to go in a new, exciting direction (I’ve started ghostwriting books with people), I just wasn’t finding the time to write the blog in a way I wanted to.

The second reason I’m stopping is I’ve started to feel bored by it. Sixteen years is a long time: a lot of NFL Monday recaps, a lot of Good News Fridays (my favorite part of this, by far), and a lot of wacky but entertaining to me stories I enjoyed bringing to you.

I just have felt like I’m spinning my wheels here for a while. Once in a while I get fired up and go on a rant (thanks, Andrew Cuomo, for getting me fired up a few times lately), but I just don’t have the passion for this place I once did.

Thirdly, hardly anyone reads Wide World of Stuff anymore. I’m not complaining, I know you all have so many places to look and get news and entertainment. But my readership and clicks have been dwindling for years, and this year it’s been as low as ever, so I don’t even know that I’m being heard much anymore.

I’m so, so grateful for all the things this blog has brought me: The opportunity to meet new people and gain new friends, people like Matty R and Jason K. and Sanford S. and many others, who took the time to read, and interact, on a regular basis.

It’s given me a chance to air grievances, make people laugh, stand up for what’s right, and highlight some of the absurdities of life.

It gave me the chance to memorialize amazing people like Walter Cronkite, John Hughes, Jimmy Carter and many others, and it allowed me to chronicle the childhood years of my beloved kids, Nate and Theo.

And that part isn’t going away: While I’m basically shutting down the blog and not posting much new anymore, I WILL still be writing a few posts a year about my boys; I want to keep marking milestones and changes in their lives, so a few times each year, and in their annual birthday letters which many of you have kindly said they loved, I’ll be posting on this site.

But other than that, Wide World of Stuff is closing its (digital) door. The site and its archives will still exist.

I thank you, so much, for coming along in this Web journey with me. Whether you’ve read me once, or 100 times, it is very much appreciated.

You can still follow/read my work on social media, as I’m @michaeljlewis75 on Bluesky and at the Bad Place.

Thank you all. And I leave you with this, maybe my favorite video I’ve ever posted, that I tend to post once a year… it brings a smile to my face every single time.

There are so many more good people than bad in the world. So many.

–30–

Happy Friday, y’all! It has been a week filled with 100-degree days here in New York (oh how I miss when David Letterman would make jokes about heat waves and Times Square hookers, ah, those were the days) and a cease-fire in Iran and Israel and well, I’m sure that will hold, right?

It’s been far too long since I did a Daddy Chronicles post, since January I believe, and as always so much has happened since then. It was a big week in our house for both our boys, who are mere hours away now from boarding a bus to sleepaway camp.

So without further adieu (hey that used to be my starter word on Wordle!) let’s see what’s been going on with the two small humans who live in our house…

— OK so we’ll start with the big guy and the immediate present and work our way backwards. Nate graduated elementary school on Monday! It was a little weird seeing my 10-year-old be given a “diploma certificate” on a sweltering morning outside his school, but it was also all kinds of awesome. I wasn’t sad or emotional about it, no “oh my goodness my baby is growing up so fast!” because there’s still a long way to go in that. But it was very cool seeing him and a bunch of kids I’ve known since kindergarten all have their names called.

I got to talk to a few of his teachers, especially his beloved band teacher Mrs. Castaneda, who all spoke so glowingly of him. And then Nate brought home his yearbook yesterday (yes, they do yearbooks for 5th grade now) and it was adorable seeing what the kids and teachers wrote. We are very lucky having a boy who seems to be loved by kids and adults alike.

And now, middle school gets real. We’ve been talking about it for months, he’s had some orientations where he’s walked around Weber (that’s what our town’s middle school is called), and so far he doesn’t seem too intimidated. I’m trying very hard not to cloud his expectations by telling him that I hated middle school, easily the worst three years of my life. He’s different, the world is different, and I am hoping for the best.

— One of the big highlights the last few months was seeing Nate blossom musically. He again performed at our state’s kids music competition, NYSSMA, and got amazing scores both in piano and percussion, 28 out of 30 points on both. I truly don’t know where he gets the musical gift from, certainly not from me or Shelley, but the way he practices hard, and often, and really takes precision with playing a piece correctly, is beautiful to see.

— So I knew this day would come eventually, but I didn’t think it would be here soon: Nate is starting to beat me at sports games and stuff.

He’d only ever beaten me at Ping-Pong in our basement once until last week, and then he beat me twice in a row. We went bowling the other day and he came within two pins of getting a higher score than me. I can still beat him at driveway basketball, but it’s getting harder and he’s in much better physical shape.

It’s SUCH a cliche to say one day the son overtakes the father, but it is true. But he’s not even 11 yet!

I think I still have another year or two with the advantage, but just so you all know, the day he actually beats me in a tennis match, I’m gonna walk home from the courts, crying my eyes out.

— This made me laugh: Nothing perfectly illustrates the differences between my two children than what happened at the Mother’s Day plant sale. So every year at their school, the PTA does a plant sale where parents give their kids money in the morning and the kids buy Mom (and grandma, or aunt, or whoever) some nice plants.

It’s lovely and great. OK so this year I gave both Nate and Theo $10, and told them to get some plants.
They come home from school. Nate: “Daddy, I got two plants, they’re nice, it was $8, and here’s two dollars back as change.”

Theo: “You owe Alli White four dollars.” Apparently my little one bought a couple of plants with the $10 I gave him, but they were also selling fidgets so he wanted those and my friend Alli, who was working the sale, laid out the money for him.

I mean … just an absolute perfect example of their different personalities, and how they go about life. Nate, smart and practical and brings back change, the dutiful son! And Theo, with the attention span of a gnat, wants what he wants and Daddy will pay the nice lady back.

**OK, now to Theo. Starting with the recent present, Monday was not only Nate’s graduation, but also Theo’s third theater performance! He played evil warden Snyder in the musical “Newsies,” and I gotta tell you, he really really loves acting and singing. He has completely taken to it, loves going to the rehearsals that our amazing local children’s theater director holds, and of course is so excited to dress up in costume.

The theater program here is starting acting classes in the fall, and we’ve signed him up for one. It’s such a collaborative thing, he’s one of the only boys that does it which means he should always get a good part, and he seems to have a little ham in him (OK, a LOT of ham in him.)

— Theo’s other love continues to be the wonderful sport of ice hockey, and after much, much family deliberation, we decided to take the plunge in the spring and let him try out for travel ice hockey. He made it, and he’s now a member of the 8U minor Long Island Edge! This is a baby step into travel, they practice twice a week starting in fall, games on the weekends are all on Long Island or in NYC, and it’s not as intense as it will get as he ages.

But man, kid loves it. We’ve been practicing his shooting in the driveway frequently, taking 100 shots at a time and using this little flat board device his coach told us to buy, and he went from not being able to lift the puck at all on his shot, to now being able to do it almost every time.

I know how obsessive travel sports can get, and how the parents can get, so I’m wary of getting in too deep. But my kid has found something he’s passionate about, and I want to encourage that as much as I can (although I may feel differently driving to the rink at 6 a.m. for a tournament).

— And finally, Shelley and I are about to be empty-nesters for the first time! Kind of. Theo will be joining Nate at sleepaway camp for four weeks this summer, at Chestnut Lake Camp in Pennsylvania. He’s excited about it, we think; he hasn’t said much, though he did love orientation there a few weeks ago. I’m sure he’ll be homesick a bit (not that we’ll know, because there’s no way he’s going to remember to write us letters), but having Nate there with him will certainly make it easier. We’ve already told Nate he’s legally required to check on Theo’s group regularly and report back 🙂

It’s a big, big step, and I’m hoping Theo likes it enough to want to stay and come back next summer.

It’ll be pretty quiet in our house in July, which will be great and strange at the same time.

Life is an adventure, and my youngest is going to have the time of his life.

There are some stories where, even when you know the ultimate ending, it’s still a gripping tale.

I’m talking about “Titanic,” or any World War II movie. Yes, we know what the end result is, but the journey getting there is still fantastic.

That’s kind of how I felt about the new Netflix three-part documentary, “American Manhunt: Osama bin Laden.” Even though we all know that after orchestrating the horrific World Trade Center and Pentagon attacks on September 11, 2001, bin Laden was finally hunted down and killed in 2011, the story of the decades-long pursuit of the terrorist is gripping.

“American Manhunt” does so much well: We get the backstory of bin Laden’s rise as a terror mastermind, showing us what attacks he planned and carried out in the 1990s. We get inside stories of 9/11 from people like former CIA intelligence agents Tracy Walder and Gina Bennett, who show us the incredible frustration of getting leads on bin Laden that don’t pan out, as well as the excruciating story of the explosion that killed CIA agents in Afghanistan, when a possible source double-crossed them.

We hear from CIA veterans like Tracy Walder and Gina Bennett, who took this bin Laden hunt so personally, and from Mike Morell, who was a major counterterrorism leader and was the person traveling with George W. Bush on 9/11 and had to tell him about the hijacked planes hitting the Twin Towers.

The first two parts of “American Manhunt” are terrific, but it’s in the final hour where things really heat up. That’s when the CIA and intelligence committee gets a major tip that eventually leads to them to what they think may be bin Laden’s location.

Led by narration by Robert O’Neill, an ex-Navy Seal who was allegedly in the room when bin Laden was killed, it’s a totally engrossing minute-by-minute thriller until the end.

“American Manhunt” is terrific filmmaking, giving its audience credit for knowing certain things coming in, but also beautifully tapping into the emotional highs and lows of the real human beings who felt that 9/11 was partially their fault.

Here’s the trailer for the film, I highly recommend it.

So my friend has a parrot that sings “Let’s go Rangers” and it’s the coolest thing you’ll see on this app today #NYR

Yaga is a 29 year old parrot that also whistles the Flintstones theme song, and greets each family member by name. pic.twitter.com/bKXcETIcad

— Broadway Block (@Broadway_Block) June 22, 2025

**Next up, this completely ridiculous video made me happy during a broiling heat wave here in New York. Meet Yaga, a 29-year-old parrot who can sing the theme song to “The Flinstones” and also “Let’s go Rangers.”

Quite a bird.

**Finally today, Tuesday was a brutally hot day in New York City, the hottest June day in what feels like forever, but it was also an incredibly important day around here, as New York City went to the polls to choose a Democratic nominee.

Rising from being a complete unknown, Zohran Mamdani just shocked the world. A Democratic socialist, a true working-class man, who many gave zero chance when he started running this campaigan against the awful, sexual harrassing, egomaniacal Andrew Cuomo, has won the Democratic nomination for mayor.

I cannot tell you how improbable this is. Not because Cuomo was a great candidate, because he wasn’t. As I’ve written many times here before, he’s a truly terrible human being, and I was terrified he’d be the next mayor.

But he was SO far ahead in the polls, for months. Almost all the NY state democrats who had, properly, called for his resignation in 2021 either crawled back to him or stayed silent.

Mamdani, a 33-year-old democratic socialist, had the backing of AOC, and Bernie Sanders, and hordes of youthful, energetic supporters. He is a Muslim, yes, and he has been a strong supporter of Palestinian rights in Israel, and the Middle East.

News flash: This does NOT make him anti-Semitic! Or anti-Jewish! Or anti-Israel! If believing that the Palestinian people have been oppressed, and had war crimes committed against them in the last two years, makes someone anti-semitic, than I guess I am all of those things.

Cuomo and his billionaire backers ran so many disgusting, hateful, lying ads against Mamdani, and they didn’t work.

Mamdani is not the perfect candidate; some of his ideas for NYC (Free buses for everyone! Total rent controlled-apartments!) are very unlikely to happen. And he’s very untested, and being mayor of New York is an enormous challenge.

But he’s an immigrant, and he’s a Democratic socialist, and when I listen to him speak, I get excited about the potential of the city I love.

But of course, Mamdani is not mayor yet; Cuomo may run as an independent, and we’ve still got Donald Trump’s new best NYC buddy, incumbent mayor Eric Adams, running as an independent too.

It could be a 3-way race and the tabloid headline writers will be in hog heaven here and it’ll be quite the spectacle.

But that’s all tomorrow’s worry. Tonight, I am going to sleep happy, because Andrew Bleeping Cuomo, who seemed inevitable, has lost.

Good things can still happen, people!

The first thing you need to remind yourself about Donald Trump is that he doesn’t care about anyone, or anything, other than himself. Every single person he’s met in his life has merely been transactional to him.

The second thing you need to remind yourself is that he’s the worst kind of dummy, one who actually thinks he is smart. Giving a person like that ANY kind of power, is dangerous.

The third thing to remind yourself is he will listen to anyone, at anytime, about anything, and be convinced it’s the right thing to do.

And the fourth thing to remind yourself: Iran does not have a nuclear weapon. Iran NEVER had a nuclear weapon. Iran never WILL have a nuclear weapon.

I thought of all of these things while distressingly reading about this Orange Felon and his incredibly stupid, potentially world-altering decision to bomb three targets in Iran Saturday night.

As I watched people on social media fume, cheer and in most cases, just be dismayed at this reckless act by an egomaniacal dictator, so many thoughts came to mind.

Such as: There was no Congressional discussion of this; no debating the pros and cons, no talk of authorizing money or what it may mean in lives lost, down the road.

Just one fucking madman, who makes everything a dick-swinging contest, deciding to “help” Israel by bombing Iran.

(One thing to remember, as my smart friend Jeff Pearlman pointed out the other day on social media: All these MAGA Republican Christians, who are so zealous about their support for Israel, can’t wait to tell us how much they love Israel, think all Jews are going to hell because we don’t accept Jesus as our savior.)

Say this about Dick Cheney and George W. Bush: When they decided to invade Iraq in 2003, there were months of discussions and leadup.

This guy just wakes up and decides to do it.

It is infuriating, that our nation’s leader acts like a 5-year-old, and is basically taking direction from the Prime Minister of Israel.

We are being led by lunatics, including VP J.D. Vance, who had the fucking chutzpah to say on American television Sunday: “I empathize with Americans who are exhausted after 25 years of foreign entanglements in the Middle East. I understand the concern, but the difference is that back then we had dumb presidents.”

It’s all so terrifying, and depressing, and let’s just hope World War III doesn’t happen, but I have zero faith in anyone in the high levels of government right now.

Remember: Trump doesn’t care about you, or me, or ANYBODY but himself. This is all him trying to look like a tough guy, when he’s really just a pathetic, small man.

Pray for us all.

**Next, a pallatte cleanser: Saturday Nate and I had a piano recital with our school, Long Island Studio of Music! It was Nate’s 6th recital, and my third, and I was struck by how nervous I still was before I played. It wasn’t quite as bad as the panic attack I had before I played my first recital, in 2023, but I was still filled with butterflies.

I asked our awesome directors of the school, the two Jennifers (it took me a while to remember which was which) if Nate and I could go toward the beginning of the recital, as I would at least know it would be over soon.

And they gave us slots 6 and 7 out of 25, so I was happy. Three and a half years ago I started this crazy quest of learning piano, and I can honestly say I’m really improving. I’m not “good” yet, but I’m definitely getting better.

Thanks for watching!

**Finally today, I was all pumped up Sunday night for a great Game 7 between the Pacers and Thunder in the NBA Finals, and for about five minutes it looked like it would be fabulous.

And then Tyrese Haliburton, the Pacers star who has been SO incredible this whole playoffs, goes to make a move and falls to the ground in agony, and every sports fan is now conditioned to know what that means: A torn Achilles.

Haliburton was gone, and he won’t be seeing an NBA court for at least nine months, and while Indiana hung in there for awhile, even leading at halftime, it was just too much to overcome.

And so Oklahoma City, a franchise born when a greedy tyrant ripped them out of Seattle, where they were beloved, has won the 2025 NBA title.

And they’re incredibly deserving. They had the league’s best player, Shai-Gilgeous Alexander. They had complementary stars like Jaylin Williams and Chet Holmgren, a deep bench, a ferocious defense, and an excellent coach.
The Thunder won 68 games in the regular season, and survived some close playoff series against Denver and Minnesota.

Worthy champions, they certainly are. And the NBA season, which started in October, is finally over on the first day of summer.

Happy Friday, y’all! It’s officially summer starting this weekend, and we’ve finally had a few days of it here in New York. We live in strange and confusing times: I found myself watching Tucker Carlson interviewing Ted Cruz this week and actually being on Carlson’s side for one of the rare times in history. We have a new Stanley Cup champion in the Florida Panthers, and we have a Game 7 in the NBA Finals, which should be awesome on Sunday night.

But so much around us, with these ridiculous, random and awful ICE raids and Israel and Iran bombing each other, is scary and depressing.

There’s gotta be some good news out here this week, right?

Of course there is. First, a story from the great Boyd Huppert in Minnesota, who does wonderful human interest stories. Eight years ago he did a story about a fourth grader named Owen, who was diagnosed with brain cancer, and the class that loved him so much.

With Owen facing surgery, the class decided to do an incredible project, and it helped inspire him.

Watch this five-minute story, and stay to the end to see what’s happened to Owen since. So beautiful.

Jack White claims he can name any Beatles song in just one second.

And then he starts to name them. pic.twitter.com/6kjs4KmH3L

— Rock'n Roll of All (@rocknrollofall) June 13, 2025

Of course there is. First, check out this clip of White Stripes singer Jack White. He’s an enormous Beatles fan, and claims he can name any one of the Fab Four’s songs within one second of hearing the beginning of it.

And then he does it. This is pretty awesome, and freaky.

75-year-old man with parkinson's disease finishes triathlon

Even dizziness in the swim and being pulled out of the water couldn’t stop the 75 year old, David Walker, who fought all the way through the bike and run to finish the sprint distance triathlon.
🥇🏆💪🏼🙏👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻… pic.twitter.com/BR64uWIJuv

— GoodNewsMovement (@GoodNewsMVT) June 19, 2025

**And finally today, meet a remarkable man named David Walker. Walker is 75 and suffers from Parkinson’s Disease, but that hasn’t stopped him. An accomplished racer, this week, Walker finished his final triathlon, the Vancouver T100, despite feeling dizzy and needing to be pulled from the water during the swim portion.

Watch the above clip as Walker crosses the finish line in triumph.

The human spirit is really quite something.

Have a great weekend.

Saturday was quite the day in America.

There were “No Kings” rallies all across the country, protesting what our Dear Leader who so desperately wants to be a dictator king, and his band of awful humans currently running the government are doing to our country.
There were 100,000 people at a rally in New York City. Fifty thousand in Philly. Seven thousand in places like Salt Like City, Utah and Birmingham, Alabama, and many places in between.

Meanwhile, in Washington D.C., on Dear Leader’s birthday, there was a military parade, tanks rolling down the street, and a complete waste of $45 million of taxpayer’s money.

I have to tell you, I’m of two minds about all this protesting. Of course, on the one hand, I’m thrilled that people are rising up, from sea to shining sea, to forcefully scream and shout and be appropriately horrified at everything going on in America right now: An anti-vax person leading the health department. Complete morons destroying funding for every government program that helps people who need help. And of course, ICE stopping and handcuffing and in many cases, throwing people in jail who are LEGALLY here in this country. (Remember when Donnie and friends said they’d only be going after illegal immigrants who were criminals? Gee, I’m shocked that hasn’t turned out to be true.)

So yes, it’s wonderful to see the marching and the creative signs and the anger.

But the other part of me wonders, will this translate into action at the ballot box? Because it doesn’t always. And where the fuck are Democratic leaders in Washington in all of this? Why are Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jefferies so muted, and why are so many Democrats STILL voting to confirm Trump nominees? Hell, Kristi Noem, as unqualified a person to be in government as anyone, made news last week when she and her ICE goons handcuffed and detained a SITTING U.S. Senator, in his home state, and Noem got SEVEN Democratic votes in her confirmation hearing earlier in 2025.

Why, when the Trump administration is destroying all norms, rules and laws, are Democrats in the House and Senate agreeing to do ANYTHING that they’re asking?

Makes me furious. And all the marching and sign-waving and protesting isn’t going to change anything, until our elected leaders actually do what they were elected to do, and that is LEAD.

**Next up, Sunday was of course Father’s Day, and I hope wherever you are, if possible, you let your father know how much he is loved (unless you had a crappy father, and in that case, to hell with him.)

There have been so many amazing father-son scenes in movies and TV shows over the years, but there’s no doubt this is the best and certainly my favorite.

Ray Kinsella, his father John, and a ballfield of dreams. Get the Kleenex, please.

**Finally, I was distressed over the weekend reading about Israel and Benjamin Netanyahu’s latest war, because there’s always a war with this guy. Israel has been bombing Iran for several days now, crippling oil refineries, military headquarters, and killing top Iranian officials.

There is nothing Bibi loves more than war, except power. As Israel continues to decimate Gaza, with people starving and aid not nearly enough, there’s no end in sight to that war.

And now Iran is, of course, fighting back and Israelis will suffer from that, and Bibi will just keep on bombing. Just Monday morning, from NPR: “In Israel, Iranian missile and drone strikes hit Tel Aviv and Haifa early Monday, killing at least eight people and injuring nearly 100 others, according to the Israeli prime minister’s office.”

Look, of course there are reasons to attack Iran, and of course Israelis have reason to be scared of the Iran threat.

But once again, despite America and many other nations warning Israel not to launch attacks, Bibi has. Because he f’ing loves war, and doesn’t really give a damn about the damages that his people will suffer because of it.

I cannot state in strong enough terms how much me, and millions of other American Jews, hate Netanyahu. The man is Freddy Krueger or Jason from the horror movies, come to life. And he never, ever seems to go away. We’re stuck with him forever.

Happy Friday, y’all! Oh my God, what a week it was on Thursday. Israel is bombing Iran. A sitting United States senator was handcuffed and detained, in his OWN state, by the Secret Service for having the audacity to ask a question at a press conference of a Trump official. Here where I live, there were wild rumors all day about ICE coming into one of our elementary schools. There was a huge plane crash in India.

It was an INSANE day, and I’m sure I’m forgetting a few big things that happened. So please, by all means, I need some good news, YOU need some good news, let’s get on with it.

I want to start today by talking about a music legend who passed away this week, and celebrate his life. Brian Wilson didn’t invent pop music, he just perfected it. As the leader of the Beach Boys, Wilson helped create new kinds of sound, and infectious, amazing music.

Go ahead, pick your favorite Beach Boys song, it’s hard to pick just one. “God only Knows” is amazing. “I Get Around,” “Don’t Worry, Baby,” “Wouldn’t it be Nice,” all just perfect songs.

I especially love “When I Grow up to Be a Man,” and of course, “Good Vibrations.” There are so many classics to choose from.

Wilson, famously, struggled with mental illness after the 1960s, and was the subject of a few excellent movies. (I really enjoyed the John Cusack film “Love and Mercy” from 2014).

People like Bruce Springsteen this week have said that without the Beach Boys, there would’ve been no E Street Band.

Check out this clip of Brian Wilson and “Good Vibrations,” and let us celebrate a musical genius.

Good Vibrations is a symphony.

This clip of Brian Wilson and The Wrecking Crew recording the track is outer worldly.

Proof that all he needed were just musicians to play his material.

He is The Beach Boys. pic.twitter.com/rvPkvi65rp

— Danny Deraney (@DannyDeraney) June 11, 2025

**Next up, lest you think Cinderella stories in college sports only happen in the NCAA Tournament, let me introduce you to the Murray State University Racers.

They are a small college in Kentucky, and have never been this far before. Murray State plays its home games at an 800-seat stadium that until 2014 did not even have grandstand seating. Coach Dan Skirka does the groundskeeping. Reagan Field did not even have a padded outfield wall until less than a decade ago. Yet here are the Racers, as few as five wins from a national championship. The program is the most improbable story in college baseball this postseason, and it is not particularly close.

I loved this factoid: “Bobby Bonilla gets paid more every year to not play baseball ($1.19 million) than Murray State spent on its entire program during the 2023-24 academic year ($858,106, according to information gathered by USA TODAY in conjunction with its partnership with the Knight-Newhouse College Athletics Database at Syracuse University).”

What a story. Here’s hoping Murray State (the state of Murray is strong!) goes all the way.

**One of my all-time favorite movies is “Dead Poets Society,” a film that’s just perfectly done, and I believe the final scene in that movie might be the best last scene of a movie, ever (Well, it’s my favorite last scene, at least).

From the great social media feed of Good News Correspondent, comes this video of a group of students honoring their teacher by imitating the movie. The teacher had apparently just finished his 25th year in the classroom, and the kids wanted to honor him.

Just beautiful. Have a great weekend.

"O Captain! My Captain!" Students honor their teacher on their last day of school. He just completed his 25th year in education and the students wanted to do something special for him.

pic.twitter.com/GFpicJBwyT

— GoodNewsCorrespondent (@GoodNewsCorres1) June 10, 2025

A snapshot of how great it is to be a sports fan in 2025:

We were in northeast Pennsylvania on Sunday, for a long-scheduled visit to sleepaway camp with Theo. Nate’s been to the wonderful Chestnut Lake Camp for the last two summers, but this is going to be Theo’s first, so the camp always has newcomers come up about a month before for “Spring Fling,” a sort-of orientation where the kids get to meet other kids who’ll be in their group and bunk, the parents get to ask questions of the camp leaders in person, and do a few activities.

It’s all great, and I’ve been looking forward to it. Except… it fell on the day of the Roland Garros men’s final, and I expected Sunday’s match between Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner to be a classic.

I watched the first set at breakfast and at the hotel, then bits and pieces of the second set as we arrived at camp.

Tried desperately to keep checking the score throughout the third and fourth sets, but we were in the middle of nowhere in a big open campground, so, you know, WiFi wasn’t exactly the greatest.

Fifth set, we’re wandering around camp, having a great time, and I’m trying to get the livestream to work. This match has turned into the classic I knew it would be, and what kind of tennis nut would I be if I didn’t watch? Finally we tour one of the bunks, and lo and behold, I find a fantastic spot to watch the rest of match.

From 4-all in the fifth set, I sat on one of the bunk beds and watched the extraordinary finish on my iPhone, as random families came in and out, asked me questions about camp (hey, I was sitting there and I mentioned I was a veteran parent) and wondered why this guy was sitting on a bunk bed with his family nowhere in sight.

When history is happening, you gotta watch it live any way you can!

Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner have been talked about as the next, best rivalry in the sport for a couple years now. They have played some sensational matches, including an epic five setter at the U.S. Open a few years back.

But until Sunday, they hadn’t met in a Grand Slam final, the last true test for any great rivalry in this magnificent sport.

And they put on an absolute epic. Five hours and 29 minutes of incredible tennis, shotmaking that defies belief, and so many winners that generated noise from the Paris crowd that everyone at that match went home exhausted.

Sinner wins the first two sets, and it looks bleak for the Spaniard. Then Alcaraz, never before a winner when down two sets, roars back and takes the next two sets.

And the fifth, just exquisite hitting from both men. Alcaraz, remarkably, never seems to tire. And Sinner hits the ball harder than any in the sport ever has.

Recency bias be damned: This was one of the five greatest men’s tennis matches of all time, given the stakes, the quality of play, and the atmosphere.

They battled back and forth, neither man giving an inch, and I was reminded how incredibly lucky we are as tennis fans in the 21st century. From 2003, when Roger Federer won his first Wimbledon, for the next two decades, we had incredible battles as three men dominated the sport.
“What’s going to happen when the Big 3 era is over?” many wondered. How will tennis stay great?

And then we get these two, Sinner age 23, Alcaraz age 22, perfect contrasts in style and temperament (Sinner, who grew up idolized Federer, is like his hero, calm and collected on the court, rarely showing emotion, while Alcaraz, who worshipped Nadal, exploding with joy between the lines as well, and playing with much the same fire).

Barring injury, we are so freaking lucky that we’ll get to watch these two incredible sportsmen, both men of decency and grace (if you don’t believe me, listen to the ceremony after and how effusive EACH man was in praise of the other) battle each other for the next decade.

Alcaraz has five Slam titles now, at age 22. He is, truly, the most exciting athlete in all of sports right now.

What an absolute joy that match was. And Wimbledon starts in three weeks. Let’s hope they do it again!

LAPD fired rubber bullets at Australian journalist @laurentomasi.bsky.social

— Dr. Lucky Tran (@luckytran.com) 2025-06-09T01:39:09.286Z

**We interrupt this lovely discussion of tennis to remind you that our sitting President deployed thousands of National Guard troops, thousands of them, to Los Angeles to quell a protest that involved a few hundred people at Home Depot.

Tear gas, rubber bullets, riot gear, and our Dear Leader is raging on his social media page about violent mobs and insurrection.

This video above is of an Australian TV journalist being shot by rubber bullets. We have gone SO far around the bend as a country.

I’m not sure we can ever come fully back to what we were.

**And finally, I don’t want the incredible men’s final at Roland Garros to stop me from writing about the sensational triumph that happened a day earlier, when Coco Gauff triumphed over Aryna Sabalenka in three error-filled, but so dramatic, sets.

Couple quick thoughts on Coco’s second Slam win:

— Defense wins championships is usually something we say in team sports like basketball or football. But wow is it true in tennis, too. Just like when she beat Sabalenka in the 2023 U.S. Open final, Gauff won on Saturday with her incredible defense. Time and again Sabalenka thought she had won a point, only to see the ball boomerang-ing back at her. Coco was sublime in her fight and her retrieving, and she frustrated the No.1 seed greatly.

— The heat of the moment gets to all of us, and I’ve long thought it remarkably cruel and unfair that tennis’ custom dictates that after you lose a Grand Slam final, you have to stand on the court for 20 minutes and endure the “celebration” ceremony for the winner. But wow, did Sabalenka set new lows for horrible sportsmanship, both on court and in her postmatch press conference.

“”(Coco) won the match not because she played incredible, just because I made all of those mistakes.” And “she was hitting the ball from the frame. Somehow, magically the ball lands in the court. It felt like a joke.”

Just awful. And saying those things in the press conference a few hours after the match, when you’ve had a chance to cool down, is even worse. Yes, Sabalenka made a ton of errors. But she gave zero credit to Coco and hey, maybe you’re making those errors because your opponent is getting everything back and you’re forced to go for winners all the time!”

— Finally, a few words on Gauff, the person. I’ve written this many times before, but this is an absolutely model kid when it comes to how to act and present yourself. I’ve interviewed her at the U.S. Open since she was 13, and the kid just gets it. Always composed, always thoughtful, never mean-spirited with media, fans or anyone. Corey and Candi Gauff raised her right, and she’s such a worthy role model for young boys and girls alike.

She’s got 2 Slam titles now, and I think she’s just getting started.