March 2016

All coffee beans are not created equal. More specifically, the roasting has a substantial impact on both the flavor and the caffeination of your cup.

In my early 20s at a boutique hotel in Diamond Head, Hawaii, I began a deep love affair with coffee. While playing in the now deceased Hawaiian Winter Baseball league, I’d wake up at the crack of dawn, watch waves crash from a rocky cliff and sip hot local coffee out of a paper cup. At the time, I was still eating pastries for breakfast (awwww). In those glory days, the coffee was dark, and I was sure that meant it was “strong.”

Through years of navigating my way through various clubhouses, I, along with many of my teammates, put an inaccurate puzzle together that dark coffee was made from dark coffee beans and that dark meant powerful. At the time, we were primarily focused on ensuring our coffee was heavy on the energy boosting properties produced by copious caffeine content. Silly boy. From coffeecrossroads.com:

Dark roasted coffees are dark brown in color, like chocolate, or sometimes almost black. They have a sheen of oil on the surface, which is usually evident in the cup when the dark roast coffee is brewed. The coffee’s origin flavors are eclipsed by the flavors of the roasting process. The coffee will generally have a bitter and smoky or even burnt taste. The amount of caffeine is substantially decreased.

That bitter, almost burnt taste may have been responsible for our notion that it had more “pop.” After all, if it it’s more challenging to drink, the rewards must be greater. Now, I dig that flavor. When I’m simply optimizing for taste and experience, I go deep and dark. However, if I need to focus or train, I hunt a caramel or peanut butter color in my beans.

Light roasts are light brown in color, with a light body and no oil on the surface of the beans. Light roasts have a toasted grain taste and pronounced acidity. The origin flavors of the bean are retained to a greater extent than in darker roasted coffees. Light roasts also retain most of the caffeine from the coffee bean.

Inevitably, you’ll find yourself wanting the combination of richness and a buzz.  Some folks will shoot for a cappuccino or a latte under said circumstances. If that’s you, all good (by the way, I like your beret). Personally, I mine for balance in my brew and look for a medium bean. I drink it black so as to not throw off the scents and unique flavors of the cup.

Medium roasted coffees are medium brown in color with more body than light roasts. Like the lighter roasts, they have no oil on the bean surfaces. However, medium roasts lack the grainy taste of the light roasts, exhibiting more balanced flavor, aroma, and acidity. Caffeine is somewhat decreased, but there is more caffeine than in darker roasts.

Baseball clubhouses are melting pots and the profession demands that we learn the cultures of our teammates. As such, I have had the honor and adventure of sampling coffee from each corner of the earth including the DR, Japan, Cuba and, of course, the aforementioned Hawaii. Beans of all colors and caffeine levels come from each region. The world perpetually meets our demands.

Strong mind,

Kap

We’ve talked enough about the fat burning, muscle building capabilities of sprinting around here. We haven’t talked about how much mental confidence we can derive from operating at our fastest and most explosive.

Men, very generally speaking, begin losing speed, power and athleticism in their early to mid 20s. Testosterone output in males peaks around 19-20, and concentrations in the blood stay elevated through the mid 20s. Afterwards, however, there is a natural human decline. Men will produce 1-2% less testosterone every year after age 30. From wired.com:

Generally speaking, athletes start to see physical declines at age 26, give or take. (This would seem in line with the long-standing notion in baseball that players tend to hit their peak anywhere from ages 27 to 30.) For swimmers, the news is more sobering, as the mean peak age is 21…For setting world records in a given athletic discipline, the mean age is 26.1…

Fighting our biology is a fruitless endeavor. But this doesn’t mean we’re forced to accept our condition. Most men (and women…but seriously…men) begin to trade in their power for areas in which they feel more equipped to compete, like distance jogging, or they hop on the elliptical trainer and boast of their marathon sessions.

From a primal, animalistic perspective, I’m not certain this approach produces optimal mental strength results.

So what’s our move? We are not cats, but consider the analogy of a fearless cheetah chasing down a gazelle. The cheetah is primed with a burst of speed, sprinting furiously after his prey. He is not running long distances; in fact, he can maintain his speed for only around a minute. That one minute is all he needs to corral his prey and eat.

As hunters, whether of animal flesh or for that promotion at work, we need to be primed to move quickly, in explosive bursts of power. In fact, our bodies are particularly evolved for this, able to supply us with massive amounts of energy, but only for a few seconds, via the ATP-PC system. Immediately following the explosion, just like the cheetah, our bodies rest and replenish these stores for the next time they’re needed.

These high intensity bursts of action flood our systems with hormones. In our hunter gather days, these hormones would be used to be faster, smarter, better while outrunning another predator. Today, we can harness them and gain mental strength and confidence to go after our goal or surmount an obstacle in our way.

I will never again be in the identical physical condition I was in at 20. However, I may be faster and by some metrics, stronger. The confidence one obtains from trusting their ability to stave off natural declines is huge. Personally, I can’t derive the same feeling of power from jogging 15 or 20 miles.

Strong Mind,

Kap

Michael Bowden and I first crossed paths when he was in the minor leagues with the Red Sox organization. I could go on and on about how much the Sox front office respected him, but I’ll keep it simple. As of 2008, there was plenty of buzz about him as a prospect, perhaps superior to either Justin Masterson or Josh Reddick (just to cherry pick two).Instead of gushing about … [Read more…]

You won’t find a takeaway in today’s post. Just food for thought.

My 13 year old son, Dane, has a fantasy about heaven, and it revolves around food. The basic premise is that life’s greatest pleasure is eating decadent meals. “If heaven were perfect,” he muses, “we’d have our favorite foods and eat until we’re the perfect level of satisfied, then get hungry and do it again.” My man wants to sit around and eat…all day every day. What do I have to do to get in, 22?

He’s got the right idea. Food is a universal language, bringing people together and cementing bonds. The best chefs in the world play this game all the time – if you had one more meal, what would it be (and where?)

While we’re on the topic of heavenly experiences, I thought I’d share my dream restaurant. I will find my way to D.O.M in Sao Paulo, Brazil.

D.O.M’s chef, Alex Atala, was named one of Time magazine’s 100 most influential people in the world for essentially inventing a new cuisine in Latin America. A punk rocker turned chef, he knew he wouldn’t be able to compete with French or Italian chefs cooking their native cuisines. Instead of trying to play someone else’s game, he created his own. He committed to mining the Amazon and the nearby areas for local, flavorful, unique ingredients. From the Guardian:

So Atala stopped aping cuisine that relies on imports or poor substitutes, and turned for inspiration to his country’s natural resources, in particular to the Amazon. The world’s greatest ecosystem is home to a cornucopia of ingredients (and many species of plant still undiscovered), and this is where he stocks his pantry. So on the menu at DOM are some weird and wonderful Amazonian foods. Tucupi is a yellow sauce extracted from a manioc root that must first be boiled to remove the toxins; jambu leaf numbs the lips and tongue and, says Atala, “makes everything taste bigger”

He’s undeniably a strong individual. Utilizing your region’s natural resources and doing so better than everyone else is a formula that will never fail. That’s the basics.

I encourage you to participate in the discussion. Whatcha got? Where would you go? What would you eat?

Strong Mind,

Kap

I love doing things for the first time.

Many moons ago, I asked our superstar editor and my partner at KL, Stephanie, if she thought we should give this forum to one of our readers occasionally for a guest post. She pushed back on me. I’m not sure she thought you’d be into it.

Then, Gavin, one of our regular readers and commenters began to impress with his thoughtful, smooth articulate style, and I figured I had to engage in the battle with Steph. After a little back and forth, we collectively decided Gavin deserved a shot to capture your attention as our first ever “reader post.”

Here it is. Let us know if you think we should do more of this.

Strong mind,

Kap

Sometimes, we read a piece of writing that alters of the course of our lives.

I enjoy the occasional e-mails from my friend of 30+ years. He’s a baseball coach, so it’s cool to hear his stories involving guys whose baseball cards we collected (okay, hoarded) in the 1980s.  He sent me an email in 2013 containing a link to an article, essentially a character study of him.

I read and re-read this detailed piece.  I was blown away by three things: a) the author’s capture of the essence of a quintessential “you just have to know him” person, b) the author’s astute premise regarding industry conventions and those who reject them, and c) the writing and analytical skills of a former ball player. (I understand the author has since developed quite a following on his “lifestyle” blog.  Keep meaning to find that thing.)

The piece had still larger meaning.  I didn’t have his particular skill set, yet I know we view life much the same way. Compared to him, had I settled into a comfortable but uninspiring career without really testing myself?

The article gave me a timely shot of confidence and inspiration.  Five years prior, I received a sobering medical diagnosis.  It wasn’t devastating to learn that my subtle, constant tremor appeared to be Parkinson’s disease, at least not after getting past that daunting label. I quickly learned that the degenerative process would take some time, but it was given that life would soon become more challenging (“Hey, Gavin’s finally here,” said the existence of anything ever).  At the time of diagnosis, I had a 3-year old at the plate and another child in the, well, let’s say due up in the inning.

Five years in, challenge and I were kind of becoming a thing.  Maintaining my workload was now difficult. My body was getting really pissy with me about work and the demands I asked of it. I had planned to cling to my job, but I was beaten down.

Ever been pretty good at something only to fade to ordinary at best?  If so, then you know how I felt.  But here’s the interesting part.  I actually believe my work was better than ever.  It was the slower pace creating problems.

The writing on the wall was now five years old.  I would lose my fastball.  But I had to figure out a way to keep pitching.  I could cut my production some, but I simply had to devise better ways of completing the same tasks. (Life really began to evolve when I pushed on the doors of Were those tasks even necessary? and Could better products be created that I could do better than anyone?)

The previously cited author often describes finding value where others don’t and harvesting it from the margins.  I already knew those lessons and was intent on mining my own value as thoroughly as Google mines my web history.  My body was slowing, aching and drug-dependent.  Yet behind this I was making amazing discoveries about the power of the mind and spirit.

I determined there must be something better.  So I left my 14-year job.  I stayed in the profession, but now was in the business, my own business, of generating, constructing and implementing ideas.  I struggled to be ordinary, so I committed to being extraordinary.

Forced to act, I responded.  When my abilities became compromised, I adapted.  When pushed, I embraced creativity.  What I’ve lost has been generally replaceable.  What I’ve gained has been invaluable.

Now, I’m living, not just existing.  Questioning boundaries. Fighting. Appreciating.  I’m absorbing more distress, but growing in understanding. To become comfortable is to become complacent.  Comfort held me back all those years.

If you’ve read our posts for any length of time, you know that we advocate pushing boundaries. It is worth reminding ourselves that our tastes are ever evolving, not locked onto a fixed point. You never know when you might stumble into an experience that changes your perceptions, unless you’re not willing to take a risk. Leap outside your comfort zone.

So it’s all grass-fed milk and honey since, right?  This ain’t Hollywood.  Professionally, it’s been industrially-processed piss and bee stings.  It’s been daily anxiety about the future of my family and the lasting memory of me I am sketching for them.  It’s been make or break, but I have continually doubled-down on “make.”

For better or worse, I stayed on course. Sometimes inspiring messages from the like-minded were the fuel:  It’s a process.  Don’t fear failure.  Stay true.  Focus.  Connect with your children.  Fall in love with a plum?  No judging.  A definitively positive (and occasionally comical) message every single day – often seemingly directed at that day’s particular vulnerability.  In-freaking-valuable.

In case you’re wondering, piss and bee stings are that bad.  But if arrogance is muted, adverse forces also build up strength and character beyond recognition.  I’m certain.  It’s your life.  Design it for your success.  I do highly recommend the path of least congestion and spectacular scenery – Unconventional.

The universe is funny.  My hunch is she deals from a new deck each hand, but streaks will randomly occur.  My same swings have recently resulted in solid contact.

I’m funny, too.  Perhaps my adjustments are so subtle that they’re indistinguishable. Nevertheless, I’ve rallied and am progressing on a project that will be one of the most important, hopefully rewarding, of my life.  Nobody else has traveled my singular path.  Nobody brings the perspective I have been blessed to accumulate.  I’m perfectly willing to take the risks of transparency, confronting convention and calling bullshit on the deceptive and unjust. There’s my value.  Oh, and hear ye, please summons Mirror to my high horse post haste.

Some assortment of successes and failures will be a constant.  I cannot usually control outcomes.  I can endeavor to appreciate every moment, exactly as it should be (See Gabe Kapler’s locker; circa 2004). Thanks, G.

You know I don’t plug restaurants around here. I will, however, plug friends and illuminate the relentless and inspirational work they’re doing. We don’t have rules or guidelines. That’s the spirit of our blog. We’re perpetually fascinated by learning about people and their stories, told in their own words. Aric, you’ve got the floor.

Life-changing experiences don’t always make themselves known ahead of time or even immediately after we live them.

In 2006 I hopped a flight to Houston to meet my business partner and catch a connecting flight to Rio De Janeiro.  He never showed up, but that didn’t stop me from an unforgettable week in paradise with great food, amazing beaches, and beautiful sun kissed Brazilian women in string bikinis.  What could be better?

Sold on every street corner were these Acai (AH-SIGH-EE) bowls.  The acai fruit is native to the Brazilian rainforest and is filled more antioxidants than our typical cranberries, blueberries and blackberries. They also pack in fiber, heart-healthy fats, vitamins and minerals. These bowls were as abundant as pizza in the Big Apple or gelato in Italy. I was obsessed; I must have had two per day. Who needs ice cream? This was delicious and healthier.

Unfortunately, my time in paradise came to its natural conclusion, and I returned back to my daily life and routine in the States, promptly forgetting about the spoonfuls of deliciousness I had consumed so voraciously.

I started up a technology company that consumed most of my time, but though successful, 7 years later I was ready for the next stage of my life. Though I was excited to see what the future held, I found myself jobless for the first time in a while and searching for my next passion play.

As if by design, the Acai bowls kept creeping back into my world. My girlfriend at the time kept mentioning them as her snack of choice when she went to the beach. I went to a Jiu Jitsu tournament in Irvine with my buddy Chris, and wouldn’t you know, Acai bowls were FLYING out the door.

The ol’ hamster wheel started turning…

How often do you have the opportunity to create a revolutionary brand? One that introduces people to unique foods that not only taste amazing, but will make them feel better as well? I saw the vision…I could work for myself and not have to answer to some self righteous prick every day.  A dream come true for an entrepreneurial spirit like mine…

The idea didn’t spring up fully formed from that one trip to Brazil. I started with a trip up the coast of California with pops ensued, trying every Acai bowl along the way.  Then, more research and more research.  Superfood (especially acai) is a booming business…to the tune of $130B and growing. Yet in all my research, I could not find any fast casual restaurant brands focusing on superfoods as the centerpiece of their business.

DING DING DING.  The Harvest Bar in Sherman Oaks (www.theharvestbar.com) is the baby that spawned from my experiences and hard work.  We opened our first concept store in 2014, and have plans to expand in 2016.

If Menchies can serve frozen yogurt in 350 stores around the world,  then I have no doubt that through hard work, determination, and passion we can make The Harvest Bar a universal brand making purposeful food easily available.  As my friend Billy says “The bowls at Harvest Bar are too fucking good not to blow up…and it’s healthy.”

Contributing health and well being to a community while pursuing a personal dream is a powerfully fulfilling initiative. Mine is the Harvest Bar; a restaurant brand growing in popularity, devoted to making healthier food easy for everyone to access.

This dream didn’t happen immediately. By staying open, working hard and constantly pushing to be better, we will inevitably find the right time and space to allow those dreams to bear fruit.

— Aric Haut

You know we don’t have rules about our posts.

Sure, this is a lifestyle/fitness site but we can do whatever we want on any given day.

This morning I was inspired by the following image (I adore powerful photography). Before I share my initial reaction to it, I want to open this up and see how it lands with some of our readers. Leave a comment, and I’ll jump in and discuss in the days to come.

Moderation in all things is important, and that includes your water intake. Staying hydrated is critical, but don’t pursue it at the expense of listening to your body.

Our bodies are equipped with an exhaustive set of signals. They tell us we need to sleep by making us feel tired. They tell us to move our hand from a hot stove by making us feel pain. They tell us to eat by making us feel hungry. They tell us to drink by making us feel thirsty. Once we have satisfied these needs, we get a different set of signals. We feel well-rested after a night of sleep, full after a healthy meal and hydrated after quenching our need for liquid.

Not everybody recognizes this signal to stop drinking. I’m grateful, because the ensuing entertainment is lovely.

You’re on the recumbent bike (level 2) reading an article about Kim and Kanye’s new baby, North West (can’t get enough of that). Sleeveless shirt dude walks into your gym carrying a gallon of water. He trains and chugs, chugs and trains. You’re just peddling, so you observe. By the end of your session, he’s crushed the entire container and pissed four times. What gives? Does he know something that you don’t? Not really, he’s simply been a People magazine subscriber longer than you.

Y’all know we like to engage in myth busting ‘round here. All popular publications, the healthy ones included, have been trumpeting the benefits of drinking water for eons. Hell, you’ve seen my post about the king of the liquid universe. The benefits of staying properly hydrated should never be discounted, but there is a line.

You’ve all heard the instruction to drink at least 8 glasses (or a gallon) of water a day. This is hogwash for most folks. If you’re sweating your baseballs off in batting practice or running long distances, this is a different discussion. From health.harvard.edu:

So, how much should you drink? Harvard Men’s Health Watch suggests that you plan to drink two to three cups of water an hour, but boost the amount if you are sweating heavily.

Trying to drink more than another cat just because you read it in a magazine doesn’t make sense. How much is too much? Thankyourbody.com has a take:

Are you drinking too much water?

• Do you carry around a water bottle to drink throughout the day?

• Do you think drinking a tall glass of water will help curb your appetite?

• Do you pee frequently, including during the night?

• Is your pee clear as the day is long?

• Do you think that’s a good thing?

I don’t necessarily buy all of this, but I understand the point. Carry a bottle of water if you like; just don’t force yourself to drink it. Our best possible barometer is comfort. If you’re full, bloated and peeing constantly, chances are you’ve gone too far with your water intake. huffingtonpost.com agrees:

You know that old trick where you down H2O before a meal so that you don’t eat so much? It doesn’t work. Along those same lines you should never drink so much water that you feel physically full. This is overkill, and the full feeling is your body telling you so. Water toxicity occurs when large amounts are consumed in a short period of time. As long as you are spreading out your sips throughout the day, your kidneys should be able to handle and filter the water you are drinking.

Water toxicity is a real, albeit uncommon, thing. From scientificamerican.com, 2007:

Earlier this year, a 28-year-old California woman died after competing in a radio station’s on-air water-drinking contest. After downing some six liters of water in three hours in the “Hold Your Wee for a Wii” (Nintendo game console) contest, Jennifer Strange vomited, went home with a splitting headache, and died from so-called water intoxication.

As an aside, really? Folks, eating and or drinking contests of any kind are not advisable. It took everything I had to stop my fingers from typing harsher words.

My pitbull is so much smarter than us. He and I blaze through the Malibu hills and chase rabbits. He starts to pant as we gradually move uphill. I take a sip of water, because I assume I’m supposed to, even though my body feels pretty good. I pour some in the direction of his big ol’ chops. He looks at me like I’m nuts. He wants no part of it. Two hours later, after being home and relaxed for some time, I see the beast stand up, walk over to his H2O dish and go to town.

In my next life, I want to be Foos.

Kap

If no one ever looks at you funny, you’re not maximizing your potential.

“I wear khakis, while y’all wear silk, y’all drink 40s and I drink milk.” –Ice-T

In 1987, LL Cool J’s “I Need Love,” a track that dominated my middle school cafeteria. All the boys and girls at Portola Junior High loved it. The Beastie Boys’ “Fight for Your Right” was the only rap track on the Billboard Year-End Hot 100 singles of 1987; hip hop was moving in a pop direction at the time.

Ice-T rejected this mold. He took a fearless career leap, and his risk changed the genre, and his life, forever. It’s not a stretch to call NWA the pioneers of “Gangster Rap,” and Cube, Dre, Eazy and the crew deserve a great deal of the love for bringing us ground breaking work. A year before they hit the mainstream scene, Ice-T released his debut album, Rhyme Pays.  “6’n The Mornin’” introduced us to a man running from the Los Angeles police:

Fuckin’ blue lights L.A. P.D

Pigs searched our car, their day was made

Found allmenn uzi, 44 and a handgranade

Nobody was spitting lyrics like this. To be fair, NWA and the Posse (pre-NWA) released a collection of tracks in 1987 with a similar LA feel before their widespread release, Straight Outta Compton. Ice-T, however, was the one to make the first real dent in the brains of hip-hop heads everywhere.

Independent of who deserves credit for the intro to the shocking (at the time) style, going to market with profanity and violence had an uncertain outcome. Ice-T courted peril, but came out on top. He wasn’t content to alter the future of one style of music. Later in his career, he tried his hand at thrash punk with his band, Body Count. His success with this venture was much more limited. Here’s a review from allmusic.com highlighting his perceived failure:

Divorced from the controversy that surrounded its release, Body Count’s self-titled debut is a surprisingly tepid affair. Apart from the previously released “Body Count” (which appeared on Ice-T’s 1991 album O.G. Original Gangster), the record is devoid of serious commentary, trading intelligence for a lurid comic book depiction of sex, violence, and “Voodoo.” All of Ice-T’s half-sung/half-shouted lyrics fall far short of the standard he established on his hip-hop albums.

Not a smooth transition. Life would be uninteresting if there were no bumps in the road. How lovely is the feeling when your wheels hit the deliciousness of freshly laid concrete after skateboarding over rough asphalt?

I can sign off and leave this as a music review, right? No, you want more? Okay, here we go.

Ice-T is an actor. He could have been any type of artist. He had the skillset to release party music and would have fit in better if he had. I’d probably not be blasting his tracks as I write. He could have worn silk. He wore khakis while his world donned sequins. Because he took those chances, his career flourishes even as he moves into his late 50s.

In my day to day life, I take those personal risks. I swing and miss. I fail often.  Not once, but over and over. Here’s how it has happened in my baseball, television and writing work.

1. As a professional baseball player, I exposed myself by openly focusing on weight training and strict nutritional practices. My teammates made fun of me constantly. They put donuts in my locker. Curt Schilling mentioned sit-ups in every conversation he had with me. I love Schill.

2. On television, I cite advanced metrics in analyzing baseball. This is not the norm for ex ballplayers, who generally speak in catchy clichés. Executives and baseball fans accept this, but it’s not how my brain works. Sometimes, I struggle to get my words out or to articulate my thoughts in a digestible fashion. This can make me appear unpolished. I chance that so I can teach folks about a more scientific approach to devouring the sport I love passionately.

3. I am not a traditionally educated man. No big deal, just a fact. I struggled to graduate from high school. I went to my junior college courses just so I could play baseball. I still write every day, despite my non-existent classical training. Sometimes I use slang or vocabulary that forces the reader to work a bit harder. I do this to share my love of words. I expose myself by choosing topics that you may or may not appreciate. I have some unpopular takes. I may get judged for them. If I do, so be it. I’m willing to take that risk. The reward is great. I feel empowered. I may touch a man or woman in a business suit with a tattoo just beneath the collar. Perhaps you blasted “Fuck the Police” in your bedroom as a kid, too. We all learn our life lessons differently.

Fear of looking silly in front of people will stifle you. You may be safer and minimize your risk, but your ceiling will be substantially lower. Looking foolish isn’t so bad. In fact, if you’re not consistently stumbling, you’re probably not doing much traveling. Ask Ice.

Be you,

Kap

Diving right in with Chris‘ question:

Did you ever regret anything you did during a “bench clearing brawl” as its called (but not accurately worded in most cases). It’s easy to get carried away in the heat of the moment, but do you believe that in those instances in your career you were truly backing up your teammates?

Interesting question for this blog, Chris. As you alluded to, a “bench clearing brawl” is usually nothing but a bunch of dudes who don’t really want to fight acting like they do. Quite often, punches are not even thrown. Think about it, how often do you see a sea of bodies, jawing and pushing, but no real action being taken? That’s the clearest possible indication that the men in both uniforms want to appear angry and tough, but really would like to get back to their respective dugouts and discuss what just happened with no blood on their shirts.

Every so often, the desire for violence becomes genuine and you get a real fight on the diamond. That inherent need to scrap may be rooted in evolution. From the Huffington Post:

Charles Darwin noted “the greater size, strength, courage, and pugnacity of the males in most species.” He attributed this to males “having been successful in conquering other males, and thus having left a larger number of offspring to inherit their superiority.”

In other words, if you are a man living on this planet today, it’s only because, for millions of generations, your genetic forebears successfully beat the crap out of their rivals. You are the descendant of champions.

Don’t get mad at me, it’s Darwin’s take.

I’ve taken part in a few of the ugly ones between the lines. For the most part, they’re akin to the neighborhood fracas (I replied to this question just so I could use this word) you may have been in as a teenager or that bar brawl you remember when there were bodies were flying everywhere. They’re chaos, and to that end, I don’t regret my actions at all. In fact, I do feel like I backed up my teammates, and I do feel like they backed me up. Finally, in many ways we were defending ourselves and each other. There was never a sucker punch that I can remember and engagement was mutual for guys wearing grey and white.

The floor is open to your questions or comments. No rules.

Strong Mind,

Kap