gettin' shelled

#23 Peanut Week at Hoopples

Let it be known that Riche threw the first one.

So there is this local watering hole on the near west side of Cleveland, known as Hoopples, that offers a beautiful view of downtown and has become a favorite gathering place for some of my colleagues and friends. Many would argue that Hoopples is most famous because of the musical demonstrations of the Schwartz Brothers (ask Devon about Glenn!); however, on this particular weekday in May, one of my favorite salty snacks--Mr. Peanut--became the focus of our party's interactions.

I do not recall if there was any sign or signal that suggested that we huck empty peanut shells at each other (aside from the observance that other patrons were tossing their own peanut shells on the bar floor), but what transpired for about 45 minutes that evening was a relentless air assault. To make matters worse, our server continued to refill our table with fresh peanuts! From shooting for the mouth of others' drinks to helping some of the women pull fragments of peanut shell from their hair, the "saltiness" of this memorable night on Columbus Road will forever be preserved in local folklore.

walkin' in a winter wonderland

#24 Browns vs. Bills Blizzard Bowl (December 16th 2007)

Let me defrost the scene for you (in case you were sitting by the fireplac).

It was just about noon in Cleveland, Ohio.

I had returned from picking up the the Barretts' four season tickets in Bay Village.

The intermittent flurries that started to fall about thirty minutes ago had turned into incredibly wet snowflakes that somehow found their way onto my blinking eyelashes.
The wind began to howl and whip.

I began tossing my football into the white abyss above smack dab in the middle of Church Avenue, as I eagerly awaited for my JVC roommates to join me for our impending arctic adventure downtown. I was lovin' life.

Now, here is where the exact details start to escape me.

I believe the four of us (Veronica, Brigid, Jakey & I--all pictured) were dropped off by our gracious neighbor, Paula, at the Tower City Mall downtown along with hundreds of other brave souls.  Bundled up to our noses and as far down as our eyes could see, the four of us began our 30-minute journey towards Cleveland Browns Stadium against some of the strongest, roaring winds and blinding snow that the mouth of Lake Erie has arguably ever produced. The wind was whipping so much and without break that Brigid and I had to cling for dear life to a nearby streetlight pole in order to avoid getting swept into the street. No exagerration.

Then, all of sudden, as our view of the stadium became clearer, we received an "invitation" to be children again. This was not a problem for me :)

There is a famous ramp by the front gates of the stadium. Usually, fans walk over it within seconds. This day, however, there was a single sheet of ice and fans were either SLIDDING down the embankment on their back-sides or surfer-style screaming like little children on Christmas morning. It was highly entertaining!

Unfortunately, the game itself  was uneventful with its poor field conditions, frozen fans, and low score (the Browns actually won 8-0 on two field goals from Phil Dawson and a special teams safety). Brigid and Veronica made an unpopular decision, when they left the game at halftime (their "hot" cocoa apparently couldn't thaw them). Jake and I were able to outlast the brunt of the second half and were able to take hot showers as soon as we returned home.

I might never be this cold again. Thank you, Cleveland.

scenes from an Italian disc golf shop

#25 Traveling with my sister (Kaitlyn) to the attic of Scotti's Italian Eatery to purchase our very own, one-size fits all disc golf frisbees from none other than Scotti himself


Kaitlyn was visiting for Easter. I had just returned to my JCU apartment from a long day at my internship site and realized how beautiful of an afternoon it was in Cleveland (a rare occasion). I asked Kaitlyn if she wanted to go play a round of frisbee golf before dinner and she said "absolutely, but we don't have any frisbees!" I told her not to worry and that we would figure something out (little did she know that I was planning on swinging by a Italian restaurant near the disc golf course that my friend, Mark, told me sells discs). So we hopped into a friend of mine Augustus' car (keep this car in mind for a future tribute) and felt just about every pot hole on our journey north towards the lake. Once I knew we were getting close, I asked my sister to look out for a restaurant called Scotti's. We whizzed by its tiny parking lot, but we both spotted it almost immediately (at this point, Kaitlyn knows that we are trying to purchase some frisbees, but understandably believes that this Italian restaurant is not the right place and knows full well about my "strong" navigation skills). I decide to park in their lot. Kaitlyn notices a sign above the rear door of the Scotti's restaurant that reads: DISC GOLF GIFT SHOP. She cannot believe it, but wait it gets better. I turn the door knob but it is locked! I start to worry that maybe it is closed or no longer in business. We decide to enter through the front of the restaurant and ask one of the employees about the disc golf store in the rear. She tells us that she will be right back, as she  presumably went to ask the owner/manager about letting us in. While she is gone, Kaitlyn and I are tempted by the succulent aromas that are permeating off of each guest's plate in this quaint, family-owned Italian eatery.  The woman returns from the back of the restaurant and slowly walks towards us. I dread the news that she probably bears. I ask, "is it open?" and begin to turn towards the front turn before she answers. I do a double take, as she beckons us to follow her. I look at Kaitlyn and realize that we may get the opportunity to buy some discs after all. Walking through their kitchen and dish room, this woman eventually leads us to a narrow stairwell on the other side of that aforementioned locked rear door (it was like the other side of the Narnian wardrobe :) We walked slowly up this queaky flight of stairs and met, amidst hundreds of fluorescent flat discs, a middle-aged man who seemed surprised by our early evening visit. As he began asking us about our disc preferences and experiences and gave us a hint as to how many disc golfers he knew, we knew that he was a true disc golf connoisseur. Neither of us were looking to spend too much on frisbees, but we were hoping to leave with one or two discs. He was able to convince us--for a reasonable price--to purchase two all-purpose, mid-range discs (one blue Roc & one white with a VW label). As I handed him the money, I asked him his name and he replied, "Oh, I am Scotti." I retorted, "You're Scott?!?" I couldn't believe we had met the non-descript owner in the attic of his Italian restaurant. As Kaitlyn and I descended down the stairwell and departed the restaurant the same way we entered, we began smiling to ourselves. We realized how crazy and awesome this experience had been. Who would have thought frisbees and Italian cuisine would ever go together? I guess, Scotti does.

the Cleveland countdown...

as i prepare to graduate and begin a fresh chapter in my life, i am very aware of the tremendous impact that Cleveland--both its people and offerings--has had on my person. these past four years have been uniquely transformative and the beautiful people whom I have encountered have left an indelible imprint on my heart. for that, i am grateful. it is my intention to demonstrate my gratitude by highlighting 25 of my most memorable moments in Cleveland. without further adieu, i begin my tribute. i hope you enjoy!