Washington Academy: a snapshot of life Down East

My first time driving down Route One, it was a rainy May day (I would come to find out, it was a typical May day).  I was on my way to an interview in a town called East Machias, at Washington Academy (a small school in Downeast Maine).  I had been to that area a few years prior to go camping at Cobscook State Park (but honestly never thought that I would go back) with

Hiking the Bold Coast

my girlfriend's family.  The drive was SO long, I finally understood the saying "you can't get there from here."  As remote as the drive was, I was fully aware of the beauty along that drive, especially the coastal areas near Ellsworth and Milbridge.  As many of you know, the interview was successful, and after the summer was complete, I was going to be moving Down East.  Over the next couple of years, I learned so many things about myself, as a teacher, and the amazing people in Eastern Maine.

If you've ever been to or lived in East Machias, Maine, you also know that there aren't movie theaters (within a reasonable driving distance), bowling alleys, mini golf courses, amusement parks, or shopping malls (there isn't even a Wal-Mart).  Many of the students at Washington Academy spoke very candidly about how eager they were for the opportunity to get to a more densely populated area.  Admittedly, when I first arrived, even as a Mainer, there was a bit of a culture shock (I can't imagine how the residential students feel).  As time passed, however, it became clearer to me, that while entities of a larger city are nice, not having these things opens the door for so many other opportunities.  The most obvious charm to Eastern Maine, is its natural beauty.  For the most part, I took my surroundings seriously for granted.  The terrain in that area is absolutely breath taking, and on the occasions that I did give myself a second to really look around me, I was never disappointed.

My East Machias backyard

As time went on, the lack "things to do", turned into a real asset.  Instead of doing those things, I was able to focus on building my lessons, working out, and fostering great relationships with outstanding people.
My first year on staff, it is definitely fair to say that there was a steep learning curve.  I had to learn to balance living in the dorms, teaching, and maintaining some semblance of a social life.  I believe that working at summer camp for many years prior, provided me with the ability to be adaptable and wear many hats at one time, a skill that has served me well.  It was also difficult, because as a shy person, moving to place with no prior friends or connections was a very challenging thing to do. Early on, I was most comfortable when I was in my classroom (which was actually spread between three classrooms).  Even while I was student teaching, the classroom setting has been a really natural fit for me, and something that I love to do.  My first quarter of classes was met with a fair number of challenges, but I welcomed these as chances to reflect and become a stronger teacher.  I really appreciated the trust the administrators had in me, and the freedoms that I had in the classroom, to teach my classes my way.  I would be foolish to say that all of my classes were successful, but over two years, I had a was able to develop a working knowledge of winning lessons and losing lessons (advice to prospective teachers, documentaries are great tools, but don't show them without questions, or it may become nap time very quickly).  I was also thankful to have been placed in a freshmen homeroom.  On the first day of school, it was definitely hard to tell who was more nervous, me or them.  As time went on, we added more students to the homeroom and (in my opinion) we were the best!

My homeroom!

The second aspect of my job was a much bigger challenge for me (especially since I have never been one to be super assertive), and that was life in the dormitories.  I spent two years living in a dormitory with roughly 45 high school boys, and I can tell you right now that it did not come without its challenges.  Duty days and weekends meant spending every waking hour making sure that I knew where all the guys were, all the time (town, games, walks, girls dorm, friend's house).  At first, this was a really difficult task for me.  As an active person, I just wanted to go to the gym to work out or the court to shoot hoops, but I was in the dorm, at the front desk overseeing sign-ins and sign outs.  After a really good talk with my boss about how duty is not about "killing time," but rather a fantastic time to develop stronger relationships with the students, I had a bit of enlightening.  Rather than feeling sorry for myself, because I wanted to be out doing things, I needed to spend more time getting to know the dorm students, and planning activities that not only I would enjoy, but that they would like to do too.  Once this switch flipped, I genuinely developed an enjoyment for duty days.  I began to get to know that students better, making an effort to talk to them and learn more about them, and the response I got, was universally positive.  The dorm kids began to develop a respect for me, so rather than having me nagging them constantly to get to meals on time or do their homework, they would actually get things done (it was like magic).

Dorm Duty

While it was hard at the time, I look back fondly on morning BPL with the guys, FIFA tournaments, evening hot pot cooking parties (which are delicious, by the way), and just learning about all the different cultures that were represented in the dorms.  Not many people can say they have lived with people from China, Italy, Spain, Bermuda, Jamaica, Russia, Japan, South Korea, Vietnam, Rwanda (I know I am forgetting a few), but it is a real melting pot experience.  While it is an extremely busy lifestyle, I am so thankful to have had the opportunity to be a dorm parent (and it will certainly help when I have teens of my own).
The third, and final aspect of my job began, in a way, towards the end of my first year on staff, and that was coaching.  Throughout my first year on staff, I did a lot of athletics with the residential students (mostly during open gym, particularly basketball), but I didn't start doing any formal coaching until I began volunteering with the outdoor track team.  In high school, I ran track for one season and can safely say that I was not the fastest kid on the team, but thanks to the fact that my younger brother was, I spent a lot of time around track and learning about the basics.  During the my first season with the team, we saw a lot of success, sending a pretty good number of athletes to states.  For a lot of big schools, state championship qualifications are quite common, because they have more athletes to pull from and outstanding facilities to work with.  Hopefully someday, Washington Academy will have a track of its own, but a lot of the training that happens now is done wherever space can be found.  I loved helping out during that first season (mostly because it was a stellar group of student athletes) and caught the coaching bug pretty hard.  During the fall season, I coached the first ever JV boy's soccer team, and although we didn't win any games, there was a notable improvement in skills among the team.  I think the hardest part about learning sports other than basketball and baseball in that area is the lack of feeder programs (mostly because everything is so spread out).  Most of the soccer players in the area (unless they traveled long distances to play on clubs) had other primary sports, so skill building was my goal, to help them become varsity players in the near future.
In the winter, I had my first varsity coaching gig as the head coach of the boy's and girl's swim teams at WA.  I could not have asked for a nicer group to have coached.  I drove a white bus to and from practices, often filled with both day and residential students.  Swimming is a hard sport to learn, and from my limited experience (only swimming one season in high school) I knew that it can be very frustrating, but my athletes always rose to the challenges that I put forth, and pushed themselves to get better.   By the end of the season, I am proud to say, that all of their times had dropped significantly from the beginning of the season.

Me and the Track team!

When spring rolled around, I was officially named an assistant coach of the track team, and I entered into my favorite coaching season during my time at WA (sorry swimming and soccer teams).  By this time, I was much more confident as a coach, and finally felt as though I was hitting my stride at the school as well.  We had outstanding senior leadership and a group of really genuinely good kids.  Coaching can be a real struggle if athletes don't want to put the work in to get better, but everyone showed up to practice (almost) everyday ready to work hard to get better and faster, and it was really apparent.  By the end of the season, we had more state and PVC (conference meet) qualifiers than any season in the short history of Washington Academy's track program.  The other coaches and I often spoke about how lucky we were to have such an outstanding group of athletes (and it was a real reflection on the general character of the students at WA).  Watching athletes develop skills and achieve personal bests is a real privilege to see first-hand, and with a very young team last year, there was so much of that.  The team supported each other and wanted the others to be successful as much as their own personal success, and it made things so easy. Today is the first day of the season for them and I am really sad that I will not be there to watch their continued growth and success!
I realize that this post is mostly about me, but it was really the people that made my time at Washington Academy so very enjoyable, so I will cover them at a later date.

Until next time!  
 

Little doogan: living with my best friend

As I type this, my little (not-so-little, actually) brother, Isaiah, is being prepared for surgery to repair his broken knee.  Broken knee, of course, is not the medical term for what is being done, but it is essentially what happened.  While playing an intramural soccer (I know, soccer, his long time nemesis) game, he took a misstep and tore his ACL, MCL, and Meniscus (I know, devastating).  Anyways, he is being prepared for surgery, and I won't lie, I'm definitely quite nervous.  I really hope, for his sake, that the surgery is really successful, and his recovery process is fast and smooth (feel free to say a prayer for him)!

Isaiah is my best friend (Can't you tell)

Growing up in the same house with your best friend is AWESOME, and don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.  I mean think about it, my parents never had to set a play date for me and and brother to hang out.  When we wanted to play, we just found each other and played.  As noted yesterday, a lot of our play time was spent outside when we were younger. 

Isaiah was an interesting little kid.  From the time he was a toddler, to right before kindergarten, he would chew on a rag (called his bee-bee), and would rarely be spotted with it hanging out of his mouth.  On one memorable occasion, the family was packing for a trip somewhere, (maybe San Antonio to see my grandparents) and Isaiah walked down the stairs with his stack of bee-bees claiming that he was all ready to go (obviously he hadn't thought clothes were necessary).  One day, before kindergarten, he kicked the bee-bee habit, cold turkey, and never looked back (which I think my parents were grateful for).  Isaiah also really (really) liked pirates.  He would frequently grab clip on earrings from my Mom's drawer and wear them as his "pirate earrings" (they were very lady-like).  On any given day, it was not rare for Isaiah to be out in the yard playing war or pirates, by himself (he had a great imagination).  I say all of this lovingly of course, because all kids have quirks, that's what makes them awesome (and little Zay was awesome)!

Once we moved to Maine, Isaiah and I began to play sports together far more often, with one of our favorites being one on one football. We would spend hours in the front yard punting the ball to each other and preceding to run full speed and tackle whoever had the ball (it's really hard to play one on one football). Once we got a little too big for that, driveway basketball became our popular go to. My skill against his athleticism lead to very even matches which made it even more fun! As I type this now, I realize that we also played a lot of garage soccer, knee hockey, and driveway baseball (it was pretty much nonstop). 

Me (in blue) as the doting older brother!

I have always played the role of proud older brother, with Isaiah.  At times, I am sure that he gets frustrated with pressure that I put on him (mostly in terms of athletics and girls), but in my defense, I just wanted him to be successful.  When he was in high school (and part of college) he was an amazing sprinter.  I made sure that people knew that he was really good, and never passed up an opportunity to brag about my younger brother.  When he would win races, I think I was more elated than he was.  He occasionally reminds me of the time that he won his first ever individual state title (the 55 meter dash) in indoor track, and looked over to where I was sitting, only to see me madly jumping up and down pumping my fists (yes, a little bit too excited).  I was very fortunate to live close enough to see him win several more individual state championships (and help his team win two).  

Now, we obviously don't live together, but I always look forward to when I get to visit him, (or on the rare occasions he visits me) because we have such a great time when we hang out.  The last time we were together, I was really impressed how resilient he was, even though he had a hurt knee. He was pretty laid up, but he didn't let that prevent him from getting on the dance floor for a while (or going up and down his treacherous staircase, only falling down them once). 

Last summer, after years of begging, he finally decided to give camp a try, and it was excellent. We shared a room, for old time's sake, and got to take in the magic of camp together. Most days we would go on runs together (it was a struggle to keep up), and meals with the Spofford brothers were always a pleasure for the campers (in my own humble opinion). 

I am so thankful to have three great brothers (I'll cover the older boys more eventually)!! Isaiah graduates in a little more than a month (so crazy), and I am really excited for whoever is lucky enough to employ him!!

*I started writing this Thursday, since then Isaiah's surgery was very smooth and successful, and he has started his recovery process!!

One of Four: A very brief look into household with four boys

There was never a dull moment in the Spofford household.  My parents got married in 1983, and by 1992 they had blessed the world with four lovely boys.  Everywhere we went, people would come up to my mom and say something like "wow, four boys, how do you do it!?"  The simple answer to that, was with love and patience, but I'll say more about my parents later (and for those of you that have met them know that the contrast between the two is immense), but today I am going to talk about some of my more formative experiences as the third in a family with four boys.

From back to front: Joe, Josh, Me, Isaiah

In Mississippi, kids in my neighborhood spent a lot of time playing sports outside (summertime was much like The Sandlot, except we didn't only play baseball.)  On any given day, you could find a solid number of kids playing baseball, football, soccer, roller hockey, basketball, among other things.  This specific group of kids was older than me by at least a couple of years, but I wanted nothing more than to be able to play with them (mostly because my brothers were playing too).  I would linger around the games, watching the boys play, cheering on the good plays, and making sure they knew I was there, just in case I got a chance to prove my skills.  I would bring my own ball and throw it high in the air, working on my catches, so I would be ready for when my time came.  AT LAST, it finally happened!!  They were playing football at the time, I got to be on Joe and Josh's team, I was so excited.  We got in the huddle, and Joe said, "alright, Noah, you get to be the running back" (THE RUNNING BACK!? I thought excitedly, not only did I get to play, but I got to carry the ball).  We ran the first play, and they handed the ball off to first grade Noah (against kids up to 6th grade), I got it, and ran as fast as I could towards the end zone.  My brothers did a great job blocking, but there was one kid that was bigger than all the rest of us, and he was between me and a touchdown.  I covered the ball and ran as fast as I could towards him.  I tried to do a move to get by him and was close, but he dove and grabbed me and tackled me to the ground, landing on top of me (oof!).  It hurt so bad, but I didn't want my chance to slip away, so I popped up and ran back to the line of scrimmage.  The other boys were surprised at how tough I was, and from then on, I was allowed to play with the big boys.  I attribute a lot of my skills to the fact that I was always playing against people that were older than me (a trend that continued throughout my life), and am extremely grateful to have older brothers that challenged me to play with them.

Me and Baby Zay

As they got older, their interests and mine naturally grew apart, (they were starting to like girls, YUCK!) and I began to spend much more time with my younger brother, Isaiah.  If he were writing a blog, he would be sure to include the fact the he was not into sports as a little kid (I suspect it had a lot to do with the fact that we spent nearly every one of his birthdays at a soccer field), so therefore, we spent a lot more time using our imagination to create worlds to play in.  We spent an inordinate number of hours outside (usually in the woods), in our rubber, knee-high rain boots, "chopping down trees" with baseball bats and hockey sticks.  We also let our imagination run wild at our neighborhood pool, where we would wrestle in the shallow end as our alter-egos, Noah Meister Meister Noah and Isaiah Chokery.  Wrestling with Isaiah was always fun, until about his sophomore year in high school, where it became clear that he was much stronger than I was.  As we grew older, Isaiah became more and more interested in sports, and our play generally became more centered in sports (but usually our matches would end in some sort of wrestling match anyways), but the the way he and I played as children was super important in my developing a  perfect balance between my love of sport and the use of a vivid imagination.

Sharing space with three brothers also came with a great lack of privacy.  The bathrooms in the Spofford household were more like a men's locker room, with us boys coming and going, taking care of our business as was necessary.  It was not uncommon for all four of us to be hanging out, having a chat and doing what we needed to do all at the same time. 

When we were very little, we all shared the same room (practical, because my parents were just across the hall and could get to us quickly if there was anything wrong).  As I got older, we split up two and two, with Joe and Josh in one room, and Isaiah and I in the other (for the most part).  For a brief stint, Joe and I shared a queen bed, in which, we would often wake up a lot closer than when we went to bed.  Even when the older boys moved off to college, instead of jumping at the chance to have my own room, Isaiah and I decided that we preferred sleeping in the same room, leaving an empty bedroom in the house.  On many occasions, Isaiah and I would stay up "late" talking about nothing, and cracking each other up with stupid jokes and stories.  Once I got into high school, I would stay up later than him, and go into the bedroom when I was more tired.  At this time, Isaiah slept on the floor (because it was more comfortable for him, not because we didn't have any beds), and he began sleep talking at me saying "Noah, we need to hang out 28 minutes a day, it's going to be great."  It was certainly surprising, and he sounded so alert, so I shook him a little bit to tell him what he was saying... boy was that a bad idea.  Somehow, he slid out of his sleeping bag and ended up standing over me in my bed swinging away (the punches were not super hard), and suddenly just as swiftly as he was on my bed, he was back in his sleeping bag.  To this day, I have no idea how he did it, and he has no recollection of this happening.

A lack of privacy, also meant a very open personal life.  I remember when I was in sixth grade, getting ready to go to my first ever dance, I put on an outfit that I thought would serve its purpose.  When I got out of the bathroom, Joe and Josh preceded to change everything I was wearing and start to give me a pep talk about dances (and how to dance).  I WAS IN SIXTH GRADE!  The dances in jr high always went from 7-9 and I was ready to go at 6:45, so I could be there on time.  Joe agreed to drive me, so I was cool with that.  Unfortunately, he insisted that it is much cooler to show up late to these things, because no one shows up on time to a school dance, and drove me around for an hour bumping rap music to me pumped up.  When I finally did show up at the dance, the outside doors were locked and I had to knock on the door for one of the teachers to let me in.  I was so embarrassed, and more nervous than I was an hour prior.

Junior High Noah (I know, more attractive than grown up Noah)

I could continue forever, but I fear that I have given readers enough material for today.  If you like these stories, there are hundreds more, so stay tuned!!

Getting Inked: After

After deciding to go through with getting a tattoo, and scheduling the appointment last Friday, I had quite the weekend of anticipation.  In my last blog, I talked about my apprehensions with the tattoo, (and those came roaring to the forefront while I was scheduling my appointment) made me really nervous.  As I was paying the deposit last Friday, the voice inside my head screamed very loudly all of the bad things that can come from having a tattoo:

Kind of like this...

But I made the appointment  regardless.

The weekend was very difficult, because the fact that this was actually going to happen for real was lingering in the back of my head (for those of you that don't know, I am a worrier, and often get stuck on things, especially life changing things.)  It was a good weekend, but every so often it would occur to me that this was happening.  Last night as I was typing my prior blog entry, something inside my head clicked off, and the worry changed to excitement, and I felt much more at peace with this move (I think what the it means to me is really important).

My sleep last night was a little bit rocky (not unexpected), but actually quite a lot better than I thought it would be, and I woke up this morning before the alarm went off (not a common occurance).  I felt good this morning (antsy really) in anticipation of what was to come.  I tried to imagine what it would feel like, running through both positive scenarios ("oh hey, is that a feather you are rubbing on my ribs") and negative scenarios ("I can't do this, I need to stop NOW!" *leaves with a tattoo of a line*) 

 

As it came closer to game time, I board the T and headed towards Davis Square, where the appointment was happening.  The T ride is easy, but long, and so I listened to some podcasts and killed time on my way.  I left a little bit of time, so that I wouldn't be late to the appointment, and luckily I did, because I was apparently so nervous, I got out one stop too soon, and had to wait for the next T going in that direction.  I have been to Davis Square several times, and after walking a few steps, it occurred to me that I was not at the correct stop...

 

 

Me at Porter

Alas, I arrived at Boston Tattoo Company (a pretty reputable, and very clean tattoo parlor).  I got there right around noon, just in time for my scheduled appointment.  Appointments, however are not like dentists appointments where you should really be there on time, because I didn't start the process until about 12:30 (in fairness, there was some set-up that needed to happen.)  While I waited, the artists who were waiting for their appointments to come in were chatting about the Walking Dead (a series that I have seen a little bit of, but am not super interested in watching more) so I sat there awkwardly...

Finally, it was time to go in, so i entered, they got me situated, and I laid down to make this thing happen.  No turning back now!  While I was lying there, I heard the buzzing, and it began.  My initial reactions were as follows: I am glad I could not see it happening, because I'm not the world's biggest fan of needles,  oh, this isn't so bad, a little pain, but I can manage, this actually REALLY hurts. I chose to get the tattoo on my ribs (because it is easy to hide, and a larger space on my very slight frame), and for those of you thinking of getting a tattoo and are not very tolerant of pain, that is NOT a good place to get a tattoo.  My closest comparison to anything tangible that I could think of (and sorry, this is pretty gross) was that it was like I was trying to pop the most painful back zit, but didn't get a break in between.  For the majority of the process, my whole body was very tense, trying to focus the pain energy somewhere else, while also trying to maintain a steady stream of calm breathing.  The artist was friendly, and on occasion, would attempt to comfort me or crack a joke of sorts, which helped me to stay in a more calm state of mind (one thing that was really cool was that another one of the tattoo artists there was giving a tattoo at the same time and is currently working her way through creating a tattoo of every one of the original 151 Pokemon).  Anyways, the only thing that was on my mind was "Is this done yet?!"  Instead of that, I settled for asking "How's it coming?"  The artist was very unhelpful with responses such as "it's coming along nicely."

Pretty much how I felt...

At last, he told me that I was all set!! I looked in the mirror and saw this:

Although it is a little big bigger than I initially planned, I am very happy with how it came out!!  My parting words for those thinking about getting a tattoo.

1. Make sure you really think about whatever it is that you are putting on your body.

2. TAKE YOUR TIME!  (Make sure to get it right)

3. Make sure to prepare yourself for the pain (especially if you have a low pain tolerance!)

For now, I am very happy with just one tattoo, but I am by no means ruling out getting others in the future (but definitely am not rushing to think of a new idea).  

Let me know what you all think!

Until Next Time!

Getting inked: Before

Friday morning, I woke up and decided that it was going to happen.  I've been thinking about it for a while, researching it, trying to figure out exactly what it is that I want, because it is so darn permanent.  I have effectively put it off for long enough, I am finally going to go through with it and get a tattoo (I know, crazy).  I would be lying if I said that I'm not a little scared (what if it comes out poorly? what happens when I'm old, will I still like it? how bad is this actually going to hurt?), but I'm also super excited.
When I was younger, I thought that I would never ever get a tattoo.  I was convinced that I couldn't think of anything that I would want on my body for the remainder of my life.  On occasion, I thought about what I would get if I actually went through with it, but always came up empty.  I most certainly did not want to end up like this:

  

In high school, there was little pressure to pursue a tattoo, because very few members of my friends group had one, and the ones that did, mostly did it as part of a family tradition, so I was all set.  It wasn't until I got into college that I started noticing more and more people with tattoos that they got, just because they wanted to get one.  Some of them I liked, some of them I didn't, but I still wasn't too terribly interested in actually getting one.  Oddly enough, it wasn't until after I got out of college, that I started really thinking seriously about going through with it, but I still had no idea what I wanted.

When I came to the realization that this was actually something I wanted to pursue, I began brainstorming what it was going to be.  At first, I wanted something related to a novel, my top three choices were (in no particular order):

Great Gatsby (A staple since High School)

Looking For Alaska (All-Time Favorite Book)

Where The Wild Things Are (So good.)

I love all of those books, and they are fantastic tattoo ideas, but then I started thinking, "really, these aren't very personal for me" and if it was going to be my first one, I wanted it to be something special.  Which brought me to the train of thought "what is special to me?"  Obviously, there are many things that are important to me, but the things that stand out boldly are: family (girlfriend and close friends included), Faith, and home.  I could get something family related, but it would be kind of weird to get my brother's names tattooed on me or something, so I narrowed it down to Faith and Home.  Home became obvious to me very quickly, if this was my choice, I would get the outline of Maine (a simple, but popular idea, and reflective of where my heart is). 

Faith, however, was more difficult.  I searched for a long time for the perfect bible verse, but it was near impossible to find something that: A. Wasn't an insanely popular tattoo ("I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me") or B. Really stuck with me.  So I began looking at symbols.  After thinking about it a long time, I started thinking about what, related to my faith has been a constant from the time I was a child.  The most prominent constant that came to mind, was St. Francis of Assisi (attended St. Francis of Assisi church in Mississippi, parents are "Secular Franciscans", Chapel at Bishopswood is named after St. Francis, etc...).  As secular Franciscans, they wear a Tau around their neck, which is sort of the St. Francis version of a cross, that looks like this:

I was curious why they weren't just wearing a normal cross, so I looked into it.  It turns out, in St. Francis' art and writing, he used the Tau as a symbol of peace, and that is when it clicked: This is the one!!! Not only doe is reflect my faith, but connects to my family, Camp Bishopswood (which has been so important to me for the past 8 years), and is associated with Peace and all things good (Pax et Bonum in Latin, which will likely be added to the tattoo if all goes well).
 
I am so happy that I have waited such a long time to do it, because I really feel like this is the best possible option! So, tomorrow, it's happening!!  I'll fill you in on the details tomorrow when it's all done!

March Madness.

March Madness!!!
For those of you that don't know, this college basketball event is kind of a big deal.  It has generated into an event that causes even the hardest workers to slack off and the most avid opponents of betting, to somehow find themselves in the famed bracket pool. 

Last year's March Madness brought in a staggering 1.15 billion dollars (that's right, billion).  That is a pretty amazing statistic considering that every single one of the players in this tournament is younger than me (and none of the money goes to them directly).  I will only speak for myself in saying that I watch for a few reasons: the storylines (who doesn't like seeing a number 14 seed upset a 3 on a buzzer beater?), the unlikely heros (I will talk about a few of my favorites), and my personal love of sports (I will also expand on this).
I'll give you a little history about me and my experience with the March Madness brackets.  I have been filling out a bracket since fourth grade (pretty crazy I have been making selections for 16 years).  In fourth grade, I wasn't a college basketball whiz kid and had very little knowledge of how the seeding worked, so I filled out my bracket pretty blindly.  Anyways, I chose Notre Dame and Boston College to make it to the finals (I liked B.C.'s colors).  Retroactively, it seems I was a big fan of those Catholic schools (must have been the subliminal messages in the sermons).  Unfortunately, my dreams were dashed, when they both lost in the first round (luckily, there were bigger fish to fry in fourth grade).  Early on, my oldest brother Joe made sure that the scoring was done properly and that we all got our brackets in on time, but I couldn't wait for the day that my turn came!  Anyways, years passed, and my brackets started getting progressively better and better, probably due to my thorough, consistent research (for a time, I cut out the updated AP Top 25 from the newspaper, and compared them week to week to mark team's consistencies or not).  My sophomore year in high school (one of the few years I had ESPN as a kid) I slept on the couch every night, falling asleep to college basketball.  I spent hours in my driveway shooting hoops hoping that someday I could be the white kid that came in at the end of the game to seal games with free throws (this, of course, didn't happen).  

As I write, two 14 seeds have already sealed their entry into the second round... MADNESS!!

I'll leave you with my top 5 favorite March Madness moments:
5. Gerry McNamara vs. BYU 2004 First Round
Gerry McNamara was my favorite player in the NCAA for as long as he played, after this game, I went outside and tried to imitate his smooth shot for about an hour.

4. Butler vs. Duke, 2010 National Championship
This game was the heartbreak of all heartbreaks.  Was there anyone in America, even Duke fans, that wanted to see Duke win that game?  Fortunately, Brad Stevens is now working miracles with the Boston Celtics and Hayward is a really good NBA player.

3. Pitt vs. Villanova, 2009 Elite Eight
This game was unbelievable.  Back and forth the whole game, and somehow, Scottie Reynolds single-handedly beats five guys to help 'Nova get into the Final Four.  (The game also took place in the Garden, so it was bound to be great!)
2. Arizona vs. Illinois, 2005 Elite Eight 
This game was out of this world (if you don't believe me, watch the video).  Illinois was down 15 with four minutes to go, when Derron Williams and Luther Head decided to take over.  Just unbelievable. 
1. Vermont vs. Syracuse, 2005 First Round
Clearly, 2005 was a great year for college hoops.  All that needs to be said about this game comes at the 1:00 minute mark in this highlight.  T.J. Sorrenstine with the absolute dagger.   

Stay tuned for more about me, and some of my favorite ever college hoops players!! 

Uncharted Territory

Hello internet world!!

Welcome to my first ever blog!  I have decided to start writing a blog for various reasons, a few of which include: the strong desire to practice writing (a skill I haven't used enough since graduating college),  the chance to share with readers a glimpse into my life (a lot of which is quite mundane), and most importantly, because I have a lot of free time (and after maxing out on quality TV by consecutively watching The Wire and The Sopranos, I need a new, more productive hobby).  I am sure that my first post won't be as good as my second post, which won't be as good as my third post, but I am hopeful that this will help me improve as a writer and become something that I look forward to doing!
I suppose that I should tell you a little bit about myself.  My name is Noah, I had the great fortune of growing up and spending the majority of my formative years in Maine.  For those of you that have trouble with geography, Maine is not part of Canada, but it isn't far off.

Maine is the one highlighted in red!

Maine is a place that I could spend pages talking about, but I'll try to keep it to a few sentences.  When I went to England a couple of weeks ago, (I went to England a couple of weeks ago, it was amazing, more to come on that at a later date) I was speaking with a guy that was my age about the summer camp that I work at (Camp Bishopswood, also amazing, also will come later), and told him that it was located in Maine.  Quick digression, if you reference a place that isn't N.Y.C., D.C., or L.A. to most people in England, you should be prepared to give relative location based on those cities.  Anyways, after describing where Maine was I told him that it is a must visit in the states, naturally he followed that up with "Why should I visit Maine?"  I thought about this for a few seconds, trying to put into words why Maine is so spectacular, and settled for something like: "The scenery is absolutely incredible."  I was surprised when he said "Isn't that what all the states will tell you?"  I processed this question, and it wasn't a wholly unreasonable response, there are songs devoted to how incredibly beautiful America is (America, the Beautiful, the eagle montage at the beginning is particularly moving), but Maine is definitely a poster boy for the United States and beautiful scenery. To prove my point I will include a few photos that were taken by my girlfriend (not a professional photographer) that illustrate just how wonderfully photogenic Maine really is:

West Quoddy Head Light (Lubec, ME)

Baxter State Park

Random Farm (Vassalboro, ME)

Lake Megunticook (Hope, ME)

 Told you!
Anyways, If I wasn't clear enough, Maine is beautiful.  The best part about Maine however, is that looks aren't just on the outside, Mainers are generally really good people.  I could continue on and on, but if you are from Maine, you already know all of this and if you aren't, please visit and see for yourselves!
I realize that I haven't told you much about myself, because I got caught up with Maine, but I was molded in a significant way by Maine, so I had to give it at least a bit of air space!

I am going to try to write at least of few of these per week, so if you enjoy keep reading, and if you don't, that is okay too!!
 I'll leave you with this, because it's tomorrow, and I'm excited (and The Killers are a great hype band):