I would like to say that I've been kicked out of better joints, but that sure doesn't work with Hawaii. I’ll save a lot of room
in my heart for youPerhaps the words of poet Robert Frost will suffice: "Home is where, if you have to go there, they have to take you in."
Yes, folks, after seven years in the middle of the pond, I'm outta here. It's corny, but each time I leave, Chicago has been tugging my sleeve, especially after the last visit a few months ago.
It has been an 18-year, nine-newspaper road trip -- and my dad is threatening to cut off my allowance if I don't get home to mow the lawn this summer. Actually, both of my parents and several other family members are getting up there in age and I am simply too many miles away at this point. My mom survived major surgery last winter and my dad is huffing and puffing from his 30 years as an asbestos worker.
They have done so very much for me and now it's time to be close by when needed. And to drive them nuts, of course.
Many times in Hawaii, I have led the league in stupid mistakes and poor decisions, both on and off the court, and I sincerely apologize to those affected. Sometimes we give in to sadness or anger or depression. Then we hurt those who are helping us and help those who are hurting us.
When my wife and son left the islands several years ago, a large chunk of my heart -- and my sanity -- went with them. But that's still no excuse to sometimes misplace your dedication toward everything else that matters in your life. All you can do is regain it, then guard it more fiercely than ever.
As always, I have found that the true heroes in every daily lineup aren't those who can make a tackle or sock a baseball. They are your neighbors, the folks on the sidelines at a soccer game or quietly seated at a piano recital. They are those who sacrifice so much of themselves to properly raise children in these extremely difficult times.
The heroes also are the men and women who do so much to help others, to ease the pain of those less fortunate who sometimes are complete strangers.
There isn't enough space in this entire sports section to thank the many, many people who have shown me so much kindness over the years here.
BUT I cannot leave without mentioning Skip Diaz, "Uncle Jack" Sullivan and Les Keiter: true giants in the community.
And a special thanks to Star-Bulletin managing editor Dave Shapiro, a crack journalist and a wonderful person. And I wouldn't be here to write this if Dave had kept a loaded revolver in his desk.
More mahalos to assistant sports editor Paul Carvalho, a great guy, and to publisher John Flanagan, who put up with phone calls saying that I had been spotted leading the Waikiki marching band at 5 a.m. And I can't forget my longtime friend on the staff, Paul Arnett, a fine lad.
This might sound strange, but best of luck to Riley Wallace and this season's UH basketball team.
To anyone whose feelings I have hurt at the college level, I am sorry. Except for BYU. Ha!
Seriously, Hawaii has been the most beautiful place that I have ever lived, out of many other great spots where I've been fortunate enough to hang my hats.
But Chicago is my home and a city filled with wonder and excitement and dear friends. Plus, every guy over 30 years old is bald there. Heh-heh.
And Uncle Al had this to say: "C'mon home, kid. It's time to leave Tahiti and come back to the South Side. We sure have missed ya."
Remember, folks, we're not here for a long time, we're here for a good time. And please, please treat your children well. There is nothing more important in this world than the kids. Nothing.
In conclusion, as my tears well, the final words of my favorite Irish song:
"So fill to me the parting glass,
good night and joy be with you."