Mandy Schulz ruined Sarah Silverman

So, I'm sitting up late one Saturday night ... as usual ... and I flip over the Comedy Central to catch whatever's on 'The Secret Stash.' To my surprise, it's an uncut version of Sarah Silverman's stand up special. I can't remember which one, but does it really matter? Silverman's widely considered one of the best female comics around, if not one of the best. Her shtick is basically to get you to laugh when she says stuff no other woman would say. She talks about farting, barfing, her lady parts and many other vulgarities that you wouldn't normally hear come out of a lady's mouth.

That's where she lost me. See, I have this friend, Mandy Schulz. And Sarah Silverman's just not that funny to me any more. To those of you who know Mandy, that's about all I need to say. To those of you who don't, let me tell you, she gets her kicks from running up to you, doing a jump twist, planting her ass right on your arm and ripping a deep-toned butt-splosion. When Silverman just talks about farts, Mandy farts.

As I sat there watching Silverman's standup dead-faces and without laughter, I couldn't understand when I didn't find her funny anymore. Was I growing up, and dick and fart jokes just didn't humor me anymore? Thankfully, no! It wasn't until the next day that I realized, Mandy Schulz ruined Sarah Silverman for me.

Grrr

Dealing with people whose jobs it is not to tell you shit is damn difficult.

Life, put into perspective through death

Covering sports, there are some things I've come to expect. I've seen horrific injuries. I've seen them shaken off, and I've seen them last. One thing I had not seen, and wasn't ready to see, was the death of a player.

During Saturday night's Mason-Dixon Football League season opener, I saw a New Bern Grizzlies player drop to his knees, then to his back and get taken away in an ambulance. I had to do my job, and what I did over the next few hours was fueled by adrenaline and instincts.

I don't know if I crossed any journalistic lines, but I accompanied the head coach and the family to the emergency room. The family was given a special waiting area to occupy. Looking back, it was probably an area they save for the most severe cases. I was sitting alone when I heard the news given to the Grizzlies' player's mother. There's no sound like that of a mother when she's heard her baby has died. I can't tell how I feel about it. It's either unnatural or as natural as it can get. It's not something any mother is supposed to go through. The younger generation is supposed to outlive its elders. But it doesn't always work like that. I believe that when a mother learns that her child has died, it may be nature totally taking over for her to make that noise. I've heard people pretend to make that noise on TV and in movies ... but it can't come close.

I'll never forget the sound I heard last night. I'll never forget hearing it and dropping my head into my hands. I never met Takirra Koonce, the 28-year-old football player who died that night, but I'll never forget him.

I'll have more on my reaction to this ... I have more reflecting to do.