Later On, There Will Be Plenty Of Time For Sports
August 29, 2005 12:00 am • James Grob / Guest view / Winona Daily News
Last Friday, they buried Army Sgt. 1st Class Michael Benson with full military honors. Mike was 40 years old. He was my cousin. He was deployed to Iraq in March as part of a training team helping Iraqi police and authorities learn security operations in support of the new Iraqi government. He belonged to the 1st Battalion, 314th Regiment out of Fort Drum, N.Y.
He also belonged to his wife, Elizabeth, and his mother and three brothers.
On Aug. 2, my cousin was riding in a gunner's turret in the second of three vehicles when a suicide bomber attacked, setting off an explosion. Mike suffered massive head injuries. He was transferred to a hospital in Germany, then sent to National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Md., where he died.
I probably haven't seen him in more than 15 years, but I'll miss him. I'll miss knowing he's out there, somewhere, doing good things, helping people and making people laugh, the way he did when we were kids.
He joined the Army in 1985. He won no fewer than 23 medals, awards and decorations over the years. He was a veteran of the first Gulf War in 1991, where clearing bombs from mine fields was included among his many duties.
In recent years, my cousin trained troops at Fort Drum.
I'm just a sports editor, so social and political commentary aren't in my bag of tricks. A good political columnist might mention that the military situation in Iraq was supposed to have ended a long time ago or so we were told by the powers-that-be when we got into it. I even recall a giant banner with the words "Mission Accomplished" scribed on it a couple of years back. I guess that photo opportunity didn't work out all that well for guys like my cousin.
But I'm just a sports editor. It isn't my job to write about stuff like that, so I won't.
Part of my job as a sports editor, among many other duties, is to write an occasional sports column on a topic or issue of my own choosing. My editor here has told me she would like to see my column more regularly, and I take that as a high compliment. In the past, I've tried to shoot for a column per week, or at least a column every other week.
But it's been tough for me to write columns about sports this summer. I've had a heavy heart. Sports columns have been few and far between.
In April, on the date of our anniversary, my wife's sister died after a very courageous battle with cancer. Judy was too young to die. She was way too young to die of cancer.
I loved Judy. Everybody did.
Earlier this month, a good friend of mine died in a car accident. Brooke was an assistant professor at Upper Iowa University, and was the school's director of athletic training. I'd known her since she'd married one of my high school classmates. I got to know her really well on the football sidelines, when, for a couple of seasons, I was a sports reporter and she was a trainer. She was smart and strong and funny. She was the kind of person you'd be proud to call a friend.
She was 38. She was heading home from work one afternoon when the sport utility vehicle she was driving was hit by an oncoming trailer that unhooked from a dump truck and crossed the center line. She didn't have a chance.
I'm going to miss Brooke a lot.
It's difficult to write a sports column with people like Mike, Judy and Brooke on my mind. It's hard to care about whether or not Barry Bonds or Rafael Palmeiro are using steroids. It's not easy to care about Terrell Owens and his contract dispute with the Philadelphia Eagles.
It's even hard to share the joy with all the great local teams in our area having great seasons and playing in state tournaments.
I'm sure that in a week or so, I'll start to get really excited about the Iowa and Iowa State football seasons.
But not right now.
When we were young, my cousin cared a great deal about sports. I recall him as an avid fan of the Minnesota Vikings. He was a couple of years older than me, so he influenced me into becoming a Vikings fan as well.
So I suppose my cousin is partially to blame for all the anguish and frustration that comes with being a Minnesota Vikings fan. I'll have to forgive him for that.
When I was at a very impressionable age, Mike taught me the difference between rock music that was good and rock music that well, wasn't as good. I had no idea. He straightened me out.
He was also the first person to let me know that catching fish wasn't necessarily the point of going fishing. Sometimes going fishing was just spending an afternoon in a boat, away from the rest of the world, cracking jokes. If the fish didn't want to join us, well, it was their loss.
I think that might be the thing I'll remember the most about Mike. You didn't necessarily have to do anything to have a good time. Sometimes, if you just decided you were having a good time, you were.
Maybe thoughts like that belong somewhere else, rather than on a sports page. I don't suppose that many sports fans care all that much about Mike, Brooke or Judy.
That's okay with me. There'll be plenty of sports to write about next week.
Ottumwa Courier sports editor James Grob's column ran in the Courier on Aug. 18. Reprinted with permission.
Guest views are opinions of the author and don't necessarily reflect the views of the Winona Daily News. They are published to stimulate thought and to provide an expanded forum on issues of local interest.
Last Friday, they buried Army Sgt. 1st Class Michael Benson with full military honors. Mike was 40 years old. He was my cousin. He was deployed to Iraq in March as part of a training team helping Iraqi police and authorities learn security operations in support of the new Iraqi government. He belonged to the 1st Battalion, 314th Regiment out of Fort Drum, N.Y.
He also belonged to his wife, Elizabeth, and his mother and three brothers.
On Aug. 2, my cousin was riding in a gunner's turret in the second of three vehicles when a suicide bomber attacked, setting off an explosion. Mike suffered massive head injuries. He was transferred to a hospital in Germany, then sent to National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Md., where he died.
I probably haven't seen him in more than 15 years, but I'll miss him. I'll miss knowing he's out there, somewhere, doing good things, helping people and making people laugh, the way he did when we were kids.
He joined the Army in 1985. He won no fewer than 23 medals, awards and decorations over the years. He was a veteran of the first Gulf War in 1991, where clearing bombs from mine fields was included among his many duties.
In recent years, my cousin trained troops at Fort Drum.
I'm just a sports editor, so social and political commentary aren't in my bag of tricks. A good political columnist might mention that the military situation in Iraq was supposed to have ended a long time ago or so we were told by the powers-that-be when we got into it. I even recall a giant banner with the words "Mission Accomplished" scribed on it a couple of years back. I guess that photo opportunity didn't work out all that well for guys like my cousin.
But I'm just a sports editor. It isn't my job to write about stuff like that, so I won't.
Part of my job as a sports editor, among many other duties, is to write an occasional sports column on a topic or issue of my own choosing. My editor here has told me she would like to see my column more regularly, and I take that as a high compliment. In the past, I've tried to shoot for a column per week, or at least a column every other week.
But it's been tough for me to write columns about sports this summer. I've had a heavy heart. Sports columns have been few and far between.
In April, on the date of our anniversary, my wife's sister died after a very courageous battle with cancer. Judy was too young to die. She was way too young to die of cancer.
I loved Judy. Everybody did.
Earlier this month, a good friend of mine died in a car accident. Brooke was an assistant professor at Upper Iowa University, and was the school's director of athletic training. I'd known her since she'd married one of my high school classmates. I got to know her really well on the football sidelines, when, for a couple of seasons, I was a sports reporter and she was a trainer. She was smart and strong and funny. She was the kind of person you'd be proud to call a friend.
She was 38. She was heading home from work one afternoon when the sport utility vehicle she was driving was hit by an oncoming trailer that unhooked from a dump truck and crossed the center line. She didn't have a chance.
I'm going to miss Brooke a lot.
It's difficult to write a sports column with people like Mike, Judy and Brooke on my mind. It's hard to care about whether or not Barry Bonds or Rafael Palmeiro are using steroids. It's not easy to care about Terrell Owens and his contract dispute with the Philadelphia Eagles.
It's even hard to share the joy with all the great local teams in our area having great seasons and playing in state tournaments.
I'm sure that in a week or so, I'll start to get really excited about the Iowa and Iowa State football seasons.
But not right now.
When we were young, my cousin cared a great deal about sports. I recall him as an avid fan of the Minnesota Vikings. He was a couple of years older than me, so he influenced me into becoming a Vikings fan as well.
So I suppose my cousin is partially to blame for all the anguish and frustration that comes with being a Minnesota Vikings fan. I'll have to forgive him for that.
When I was at a very impressionable age, Mike taught me the difference between rock music that was good and rock music that well, wasn't as good. I had no idea. He straightened me out.
He was also the first person to let me know that catching fish wasn't necessarily the point of going fishing. Sometimes going fishing was just spending an afternoon in a boat, away from the rest of the world, cracking jokes. If the fish didn't want to join us, well, it was their loss.
I think that might be the thing I'll remember the most about Mike. You didn't necessarily have to do anything to have a good time. Sometimes, if you just decided you were having a good time, you were.
Maybe thoughts like that belong somewhere else, rather than on a sports page. I don't suppose that many sports fans care all that much about Mike, Brooke or Judy.
That's okay with me. There'll be plenty of sports to write about next week.
Ottumwa Courier sports editor James Grob's column ran in the Courier on Aug. 18. Reprinted with permission.
Guest views are opinions of the author and don't necessarily reflect the views of the Winona Daily News. They are published to stimulate thought and to provide an expanded forum on issues of local interest.