Sidelines
SO this is what they mean by, "There's no such thing as a free lunch." Beautiful day after
QB club Q&A drillThe scene: the Honolulu Quarterback Club, yesterday. University of Hawaii Wahine track coach Carmyn James is talking.
I don't hear a thing she's saying.
At the end of the table, I sit. Blood rushing everywhere. Free lunch gurgling. Something's pounding somewhere. My head? My heart? Mike Wilton, UH men's volleyball coach and featured speaker, is next to me. Surely he knows some form of CPR.
In walk a couple of friendly faces from the Star-Bulletin. This is the kind of support you need in a situation like this. They have come to laugh at me.
When Mr. Al Minn, Quarterback Club president, asked me to speak, I told him the one condition was that I was not the most interesting person on the bill. I can see that he listened.
Growing up, I would always see in the paper the list of people who would be speaking at the Quarterback Club. I didn't know what the Quarterback Club was. But to a kid on the Big Island, it sounded like a very big deal: "The Honolulu Quarterback Club."
Me?
"A lot of people want to know who you are," Mr. Minn said.
They do?
So I was there. Nice people. Ono food. Heart attack.
Just come and tell the members a little bit about yourself.
I had watched Markus Owens, UH baseball radio color man. He was invited to tell the club what he had been up to lately, only to have broadcast legend and "voice of the Quarterback Club" Les Keiter introduce him: "And now, with a personal update on (retiring UH baseball coach Les Murakami's) recovery!"
So I was ready for this. I was ready for Les Keiter to say, "And now, to explain the theory of thermonuclear technology!"
BUT NOW Carmyn James is wrapping up. And then there's Les Keiter (that's Les Keiter!) introducing me. So I lunge forward, staggering in slow motion toward the microphone. I look out into the crowd, and launch into my speech:
I don't know what happened to your paper last night, haha. Mr. (Al) Minn said you wanted to know who the new guy was, and by the questions I've been asked today, that's true. I was born on Molokai, grew up on the Big Island, went to college on the mainland, got stuck there, worked hard to become good enough to get called home, and did. Any questions?It lasted less than 11 seconds.There were no questions.
Thermonuclear technology would have gone better.
But Les Keiter (that's Les Keiter!) saved me. Then the questions, from the good people of the Quarterback Club, finally started. And we talked.
More questions came, over and over, until Mr. Minn finally gave the signal to sit down.
I sat at my seat, dry mouthed and shark-bait white. But breathing.
Relaxed. Drained. Big smile. Feeling good. Like those guys who jump out of airplanes.
No major injuries here.
Let's go again.
I can do this.
Afterward, I shake more hands and meet more people. Outside, the sun is shining.
It's a beautiful day.
Kalani Simpson's column runs Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays.
He can be reached at ksimpson@starbulletin.com