Mark Abbott began his 24-year coaching tenure with the Norwich varsity boys basketball team in December of 1986. He has coached over 500 games, yet Tuesday night against Maine-Endwell, he did something he had never done before: He did not make a single substitution the entire second half.
Abbott went with his starting five the entire way, and said he felt comfortable with the players he had on the floor. “It was one of those situations where I didn’t want to break up what we had going,” Abbott said. “Our subs, Seth (Thomsen), Jon (Foulds), and Dennis (Oralls) came in and did a good job for us in the first half, and they all competed hard. When push comes to shove, we wanted our front line out there.”
Abbott’s tone wasn’t quite apologetic for leaving his key reserves on the bench the final 16 minutes, but the longtime NHS mentor is always mindful of the reserves on his bench, and is quick to point out their contributions, be it as a player or a supporter of their teammates who are seeing time on the floor.

Attending four to five local sports contests a week during the winter sports season, I am amongst the crowd that rises, and removes one’s hat to show my respect for our flag and country for the home team’s rendition of the national anthem.
Count me among the many – especially before Sept. 11, 2001 – who were a bit antsy and impatient for the game to start. I cannot tell you how many times the Star Spangled Banner was butchered by kids making ill-advised attempts at improvisation. I’ve heard it sung out of key, singers using the wrong lyrics, and American Idol-wanna-bes taking their a capella moment to the extreme. There are only so many Patti LaBelle moments you can take before you begin to cringe.
After 9/11, patriotric pride was an all-time high. Even that scratchy pre-recorded instrumental version of the anthem had everyone standing a little straighter, and pressing their hand to their heart with more conviction and emotion.
Over the last couple of years, I have noticed some people fidgeting a bit more during the anthem – even players on the court – with people (read kids) joking, text messaging, and filling their face with recently-bought concession candy. Sometimes, the anthem seems like a mere formality. That happens when the home team plays a recording that is neither uplifting or emotion-invoking. In those instances, I occasionally find myself zoning out for the about a minute and a half – 90 seconds I wish I had back.
Catonia, however, is not a problem at Norwich varsity basketball games. In the last two years, it has become the norm for Norwich choir director, Mary Mayo, to arrange a harmonic offering of the national anthem with anywhere from four to perhaps a dozen kids performing for the home crowd. The young ladies and men have vocal ranges from soprano and alto, to tenor, baritone, and bass.
Not one time has this group come up short of impressive. Last weekend, before Norwich’s home varsity girls basketball game against Chenango Valley, I found myself beginning to well up as the Norwich choir completed the anthem. It was beautiful, as always, and the crowd – including the visitors from CV – rightly applauded vigorously.
Other schools have presently excellent presentations of the national anthem over the years, but no one does it any better than Norwich.

As a youngster I remember Norwich’s great pizza debate: Grande’s or Nina’s. Depending on your preference for sauce, crust style or convenience, there was a definitive line in the sand drawn by the respective patrons of each Italian restaurant. Over the years, Nina’s has flourished and expanded its menu, but in its earliest years, much like Grande’s, it was a no-frills pizza parlor with subs and a small menu of Italian cuisine. I enjoyed each place, and what young kid didn’t relish the opportunity to get a slice or two of pizza? Earlier this week, Grande’s owners, John and Connie Elia, announced their retirement and close of business after serving the community for 34 years. I did the math: Grande’s was a Norwich fixture – first in the Town of Norwich North Plaza and in recent years on East Main Street – for most of my life. I knew Mr. Elia a little bit during my teen-aged years playing in the summer soccer leagues. John was a huge fan of soccer, and loved to lace it up and play whenever possible. I also had the privilege of attending school with the Elia’s daughter, Lori. As part of a large Italian family growing up, all things Italian (especially food) conjure up fond memories. I was probably at my happiest tearing into a piece of pizza, and Grande’s made me smile many, many times. I wish the Elias well in the next phase of their lives.

I am in complete agreement with Tiger Woods’ website blog entry Wednesday, Dec. 2 . As a professional athlete, much like a politician, actor or performing artist, Woods is in the public eye, and how he comports himself in a public setting is subject to scrutiny. Woods understands he is a public figure and the camera is usually canted in his direction, yet he requests (demands) that his private life should not be fodder for the rumor circuit or the sundry tabloids waiting to break another rumor. No one will argue the sanctity of conducting one’s own business without cameras or gossip mongers looming closely.
Yet, the circumstances of his car accident are still unclear, and we may never know the specifics. What we can surmise is that issues with Woods’ private life may have spilled out into the affluent, gated neighborhood that the world’s top golfer calls home. When a car accident causes over $3,000 of property damage, it’s hard for the public to look the other way. Woods has chosen to admonish himself for exhibiting poor judgment and not living up to his own moral standards. Still, he has not explained the circumstances of his accident, and by remaining tight-lipped, is only inviting more public curiosity. When Woods does make his next public appearance in front of the media, expect an inquisition from the news media. Will Woods own up to his actions, like David Letterman? Will he tell part of the truth, a la Alex Rodriguez? Or will he stand by his blog statement and fail to satiate the public’s “need to know?”

EDITOR’S NOTE: The following is a portion of Patrick Newell’s column for the Friday, Nov. 6 edition:

I received a sports release via e-mail from Keystone College earlier this week. Before reading it, I scanned for the bolded-out names seeking out any local athletes. Often times, colleges who have my e-mail address on their master list will send me sports information updates, regardless if that press release includes a former Chenango County athlete.
In this Keystone e-mail, I noticed the name, Melinda Moore, a 2007 Norwich High School graduate. Before reading the entire article, I noticed statistics attributed to Moore in which she was credited with shutouts, total saves, and goals-against average. My first conclusion, “oh, she’s a soccer goalie.”
The only rub here was that goals-against is not a statistic typically used for soccer goalies.
Then I read the entire article.
Six Keystone College players received Colonial States Athletic Conference (CSAC) all-conference honors in field hockey.
Field hockey?
Anyone who follows Norwich sports knows that it doesn’t have a field hockey team. In fact, Norwich dropped its field hockey program around 1986 in favor of girls’ soccer.
During her high school years at Norwich, Moore was a distinguished athlete competing in varsity basketball in the winter and track and field in the spring. In the latter sport, she became a school record-breaker in the shot put her senior year.
I am not certain if Moore ever played soccer, but I know Moore did not play varsity soccer her senior season, the fall of 2006 under then-Norwich head coach, Scottie Decker.
Moore displayed an interest in Keystone’s field hockey team last spring, said Keystone head coach, Kacy Manning.
“She practiced a few times in the spring last school year and played in one short game, but this year was her first competitive season,” Manning said.

My great aunt, and the word “great” is apropos, Louise Loscavio, died last Monday, Sept. 14 just two weeks after celebrating her 90th birthday.
Aunt Louise married my grandmother’s brother, Frank, shortly after World War II. While she was not born a blood relative, she was every bit the Loscavio. My mother, Margaret, had an extremely close relationship with Louise, especially so after my grandmother passed away in 1981. She assumed a motherly type role toward my mother, and for us – me and my three sisters – she was a grandmotherly figure. We all loved her dearly, and we gathered last Friday at St. Bartholomew’s Church to celebrate her life along with Louise’s children, grandchildren, and closest friends and family.
Often times, when speaking of the recently deceased, eulogies will glorify, accentuate, and perhaps even exaggerate the positive impact a person made on this earth. My cousin Frank, Louise’s son, eulogized his mother, and spoke of her humility, her kindness, her generosity, and her dedication to her family. She sacrificed, as did my uncle Frank, to give her children a better life.
The sacrifices made by this Italian-American family through some fairly lean times were not uncommon in the ‘40s, ‘50s, and ‘60s, particularly in this area. My aunt rose before 5 a.m. a large portion of her working life to work her full-time job. She also kept a spotless house, toiled in the kitchen cooking for a family of seven, and still found time to reach out to others.
Not once in my entire life, through countless visits, did I go more than 60 seconds after entering her home without being offered something to eat or drink. How was it that she always had something perfectly delicious ready to serve at a moment’s notice? My experience with Aunt Louise is not unique, in fact, everyone who came in contact with her would have the same story to share.
My uncle Frank spoke eloquently of his mother, and as lofty as his praise became, it still was not possible to accurately quantify how wonderful and caring a person she really was. My aunt was such a steady and comforting presence in my life and my family’s life, and every good thing anyone may have said about her, it was all true.

Note: The following is an excerpt of Patrick Newell’s column. The full article will appear in the Friday, July 24 edition of The Evening Sun.

The words “senseless accident” were written in The Evening Sun’s obituary section Wednesday, July 22. Those two words completed the opening sentence in our paper’s farewell to former Norwich resident Brian Conant, who was struck by wayward car on the driver’s side of his own car. Conant, a man of strong relIgious faith and a devoted husband, was merely waiting for traffic to pass before exiting the parking lot at his place of worship. Conant’s wife was seriously injured, as was his mother-in-law. Brian, however, took the brunt of the oncoming car’s force, and he teetered on the edge of death before finally succumbing last weekend.
Just saying the words, “Brian Conant is no longer with us” seem implausible and difficult to fathom. On the “senseless scale,” this death rates awfully high for me, especially due to my personal association with the Conant family for at least 30 years.
I was in the same graduating class as Brian’s older brother Eric, Brian was a year behind me in school and graduated with my sister Christina, and another older brother of Brian’s, Mark, was a good friend of mine in my late teens and early 20s. I also knew Brian’s younger brother Dave, who was a frequent participant in our weekly Sunday afternoon sandlot football games. All of the boys, to a fault, were exceedingly polite, respectful, and good-humored. And when it came to pick-up games in which each of us attempted to live our own little moments of glory, the Conants were consummate sportsmen and examples of fair play.

Note: Ron Whiting, a 1990 Norwich High graduate, has returned to the gridiron for the love of the game. Here is an excerpt of the story that will appear in next week’s Evening Sun:

Former Norwich resident, Ron Whiting, never lost his love for the game of footbal. Nearly 20 years since he last played competitively, Whiting, a 1990 Norwich High School graduate, is now playing for the Watertown Revolution, a semi-pro team in the Northeastern Football Alliance.
The son of George and Joan Whiting – who still reside in Norwich – Ron Whiting was a two-time All-County lineman playing for Norwich, and he played one year at Canisius before giving the game up.
Through the social networking site, Facebook, Whiting enlisted in a fitness program under the tutelage of 1989 Norwich graduate, Steve Yu. Whiting worked himself into shape, and decided to give football another shot. “I have always had the desire to play again,” Whiting said in a recent interview. “Having my kids watch me play was also something I wanted to have happen.”
Whiting is among the “older” players on the Revolution, although he earned a starting role and has started the team’f first three games at offensive guard. He has encountered some of the same aches and pains of any football player, and acknowledges that at 37 years old, it takes a little longer for heal up.
“The aches and pains have definitely hindered me along the way,” he said. “You can get back into shape, but football shape is a whole different story. It’s about knowing how much I can push myself.”

Afton’s softball team doesn’t win a state title every year, it just seems like it. Perhaps 15 straight Section IV titles, a staggering statement of the program’s excellence and consistently, has something to do with that type of thinking.
Last weekend at Waterloo High School, the Crimson Knights, who swallowed bitter pills in four straight state title game defeats, shrugged off those disappointments and beat Batavia Notre Dame, 7-4, for the Class D title.
Afton’s softball program has reigned as the preeminent Class D school in New York State for the better part of 25 years, yet it had been all of seven years, since 2002, that the Knights won a state championship.
After beating Stockbridge Valley 1-0 in its playoff opener over a week ago, all-state shortstop Jessie Winans was quoted by The Daily Star that she believed this was the year Afton would win a state title. Winans’ prediction wasn’t in the mold of Joe Namath’s bold proclamation that the Jets would beat the Colts in Super Bowl III. Namath’s poolside prediction was considered outlandlish and far-fetched at the time.
As for Winans and her prognostication, it’s never a bad idea to place your bet on Afton when a state softball title is on the line, and congratulations to the Knights’ team and coaching staff.
Elsewhere last weekend, local athletes were wrapping up the state track and field championships at Cicero-North Syracuse High School.
Just a few notes to add to the Monday, June 15 story in the sports section: Greene sophomore Chad Noelle lowered his own record in the 1,600 meters when he ran just over 4:21 to place among the top three in the state division two meet. Noelle’s teammate, Mike Hollings, also set a school record in the long jump leaping 21-feet, 7-inches.
B-GA field event competitor, Melissa Reigles, placed fourth in the discus, not sixth as mentioned in the report.

Working for a daily newspaper, I am privy to what will appear on the pages before stories and news items go to print. Some time this week, the following “30 Seconds” entry will likely appear:
“For the record, in order to be a state-level wrestler, you have to win the sections.” –– Man from Oxford.
Unless you read each of our pages closely, including the obituaries, you may have no idea what the man from Oxford is referring to. I know exactly why this man was compelled to make an anonymous clarification,
Earlier this month, a young man from Oxford died unexpectedly and tragically in an accident. The 20-year-old graduated from Oxford Academy a couple of years ago, and wrestling was one of his extracurricular activities. In this young man’s obituary, he was described as a state-level wrestler.
The man from Oxford is right in the obvious or literal definition of a state-level wrestler. The recently-deceased young man did not win a sectional championship during his high school wrestling career.
I am of the mind to cut some slack here. A state-level wrestler can mean several things, and under a more general definition of the term, this deceased Oxford graduate’s participation in wrestling may indeed meet my basic criteria.
For instance: Did this young man compete in scholastic tournaments that included wrestlers from all parts of the state? Did he participate in offseason tournaments that showcased wrestlers from all parts of New York? Did he, by chance, compete in the Empire State Games or any national qualifiers during his years as a wrestler?
Since Oxford hosts an annual tournament that invites teams from all parts of New York, I know this young man meets at least one of the criteria I set forth. This man’s family is grieving their loss, and it’s not time to nit-pick the semantics of an obituary. Let the young man rest in peace.