On Losing a Legend

Brian Spicklemire discusses the five stages of losing his QB.

Well, we’re here, at a point that I never wanted to think about. A point that a mere four months ago I didn’t think would actually happen.

Peyton Manning, the most important athlete that the city of Indianapolis has ever known, is no longer an Indianapolis Colt.

His impact to the team and the city has been written about time and time again, but it bears repeating: his presence and play elevated this franchise, saved them from departing for Los Angeles, built a brand new stadium and brought the Super Bowl to Indianapolis. He was a remarkable citizen, extremely charitable, (his name is on two children's hospitals in town) and seemingly just a nice, down-to-earth kinda guy.

He was able to read a defense at the line of scrimmage as easy as you or I read a take-out menu, and always had the right audible ready to go. He made "ohmigoshdidyoujustseethat?" passes down the seam to Reggie Wayne as effortlessly as he made us laugh in dozens of commercials.

He was our quarterback.

This time last year, living in the aftermath of a disappointing, injury-plagued 2010 campaign and wild-card round loss to the Sanchize, I was looking forward to the team re-grouping, filling some gaps along the offensive line in the draft, re-signing Manning to a contract that would last for the rest of his career, and making a run at playing in the Super Bowl that our own city was hosting.

Then came reports of a second neck surgery, and the prospect of him missing training camp. Then came news of a third neck surgery, and that he would miss the season opener and end his consecutive-games streak happened. Then, the ‘Suck for Luck’ jokes started popping up on local sports talk radio shows. Then, the jokes got serious. Then 2-14 happened, and owner Jim Irsay and Manning started going back and forth in sharp P.R. statements that had all the charm of two middle-schoolers trying to dump the other one, but make sure everyone knows, ‘Hey, it’s not my fault, it’s their fault.’

Then, it happened. We had seen it coming, but when the words ‘Peyton Manning to be released from the Colts’ flashed across my screen, it was still surreal. The presser was tough to watch. Irsay clearly cared about Manning, and had a tough, heart-wrenching decision to make. Manning cared about staying in one place where he meant so much for his whole career, something his Dad never got a chance to do, and you could tell from the choked words that he cared about the fans, cared about the city.

It was an awful decision to make, but it was the right one. Irsay and the Colts are clearly in full rebuilding mode, as evidenced by the fire sale they had Friday afternoon, releasing 4 key pieces from the two Super Bowl runs, and Curtis Painter, and reportedly shopping Dwight Freeney out to the highest bidder. The Colts have Andrew Luck to look forward to, (and if he can win a single game with this now depleted roster, then he deserves all the hype that’s been heaped on him,) and probably have the inside track on next year’s #1 pick.

As sad as I am to see Manning go, I’m glad for him that he doesn’t have to play behind an empty O-line and get his teeth kicked in every week throughout the rebuilding project. I’m glad he has a chance to go somewhere and cement his legacy as the great quarterback to ever play them game. As sports fans, we’d be losing out if Manning never played again, or was stuck on a team that was going nowhere. There’s no greater shame then to have a transcendent player stuck on a pathetic team that has no way out, (cue Steve Nash nodding sadly.) I don’t know where he goes from here, but I hope it’s someplace that puts him in a position to win immediately.

Oddly enough, I think the best landing spot for him is with the guy he replaced as Colts QB 14 years ago, and coached up his replacement at Stanford, (though I doubt San Francisco would give him a serious look; they’re oddly content with Alex Smith.) Of the most likely landing spots, (Denver, Arizona, and Miami,) the best place for him is probably Denver, (great defense and strong running game, same combo that won Elway his Super Bowls in the twilight if his career) or Arizona, (Larry Fitzgerald is probably the best receiver in the game, and he’d have most of his games in a controlled/friendly-weather environment.)

If he wants to win immediately, he goes to one of those two places. On the other hand, if he cares about proving to everyone once and for all that he’s better than Brady, he’d have his chance to go head to head with the Patriots and Belichick, (who’s head space he currently resides,) if he goes to Miami, (and would unquestionably have the highest selling jersey in the history of sports.) The Dolphins could make him the richest player in the NFL, but I don’t think we see him announce that he’s taking his talents to south beach.

At the press conference, Manning talked about the uncertainty of his future and reflected on the past, saying "I haven't thought about yet where I'll play, but I have thought about where I've been. I've been blessed." It was the stoic, thoughtful Manning response we’ve come to respect, but interspersed with the tearful, choked words as the memories of his time in Indy came back to him. And those same words made me reflect about where I was for the major moments of his career. Where I was when through all the twelve win seasons and tough play-off losses. Where I was when he led the comeback against the Patriots in the 2006 AFC championship game, on the way to a Super Bowl victory. It reminded me where I was when he scared Belichick into going for it on 4^th-and-2 deep in his own territory. And it reminded me where I was when he took his last snap as a Colt, sitting in my seat at Lucas Oil Stadium, ‘The House Peyton Built,’ trying to one last time put the team on his shoulders and elevate the players around him and beat the Jets in that AFC Wildcard round. And if not for Jim Caldwell’s boneheaded time-out, he might have done it.

 

At the end of the Q&A section of the press conference Wednesday, Peyton was asked if he had anything to prove when he came back, wherever that may be. He brushed it off, saying that at this point in his career he wasn’t thinking about those sorts of things. But I think he’s wrong. I got a voicemail from Chris Friday night saying that he overheard a conversation between father and son. The son had reportedly asked who Peyton Manning was, and the father replied, “That’s Eli’s brother.” Manning’s injury caused him to miss the year-of-the-QB, where not only did Drew Brees break Marino’s longstanding single-season passing yards record, but 3 quarterback threw for over 5,000 yards. New rules have made quarterback the single most important position in sports, and it’s up to Manning now to prove that he’s the class of that position. I hope he comes back to the game and picks up where he left off. I hope he breaks every passing related record that exists, (except for all-time interception leader, Favre can keep that one,) and makes the case for his 5^th MVP award. I hope he leads his next team to a Super Bowl, and puts on the kind of aerial assault that I’ve become accustomed to over the years. I hope he’s great again, because we’re all richer as sports fans when he is.

 

And I hope that when it’s all said and done, he comes back home to Indianapolis.

 

 

Brian Spicklemire is a composer, percussionist, and graduate student at Butler University, where his thesis is currently driving him crazy. Check out his work on Soundcloud and on his website at http://www.brianspicklemire.com.

 

"Suck Now, Luck Later": Indy's Season of Despair and Contemplation (Part 2)

This is the continuation of Brian Spicklemire's post on the Indianapolis Colts' disastrous season and the decision they may have to make in the very near future: take Andrew Luck and say goodbye to their franchise player? (If you haven't read Part 1, check it here.)

Peyton's place

It's a rough topic to think about for a die-hard Colts fan. For many, Peyton is the only player they've ever seen take meaningful snaps. He was transcendent; watching him play against a defense and finding the open receiver was as close as sports come to poetry or a breathtaking Chopin etude. His preparation was unmatched. His intangibles were what separated him from QBs of equal physical talents: not just being able to make the throws, but knowing that you were going to make the throws and convincing the defense that they couldn't stop you. Remember a couple years ago, when Bill Belichick went for it on fourth and two deep inside his own territory because he didn't want to give Peyton the ball back with under two minutes left? That was what separated Peyton from other elite QBs, knowing that he could go Keyser Soze on you at anytime. It made Colts fans complacent; we didn't know how good we had it.

Your heart says that you don't want to see Peyton go, that he means too much to this city not to retire as a Colt on his own terms. He won a Super Bowl for this city, and essentially built Lucas Oil Stadium, which is bringing the big game (and the prominence and local economy stimulus that comes with it), to Indy this February. There's a children's hospital that bears his name, and his charitable outreach is impressive. With apologies to Uncle Reggie, Peyton Manning is the most important professional athlete this city has ever had. And we could be four months away from discarding him in a cold, mathematical business move.

Conventional wisdom says there's only one logical thing we can do: draft Andrew Luck with the top overall pick after either trading or cutting Peyton (cutting being the more likely of the options, as it's unlikely that anyone outside of Dan Snyder is going to trade for Peyton and be on the hook for the $28 million roster bonus he's due in March, and the Colts won't pay it just to draft a new QB a month later), and move on to a post-Manning landscape. 

Those of us in Indy with rose-colored glasses (me among them), will cite that with the new CBA, keeping both Peyton and Luck at a new low rookie wage-scale price isn't unthinkable, though it cripples the team to try to build around either QB for the present or the future. Also, it's unlikely Luck would want to sit for more than two years at the most, and might try to Eli-force a trade out (and no, the irony isn't lost on me there) if the Colts pick him come April. Which brings us back to looking towards the future with Andrew Luck, and letting Peyton go to finish his career elsewhere.

Pujols and Peyton

As a fan, it hurts to think about this, hurts to type the words that our sports icon could be on the move before long. Sports fans like the idea of the "hometown guy", someone who played in whole career for one organization. But not everyone gets to leave in a way that makes everyone happy. Brett Favre didn't. Joe Montana got traded from a team he won multiple Super Bowls for. At the end of the day it's business. Cold, hard, emotionless math. I can't imagine Peyton Manning in a uniform other than the Colts, or maybe I just don't want to.

[Full disclosure: When I wrote the original draft of this column, I made a joke about seeing Manning in another uniform being akin to Cardinals fans seeing Pujols in a Cubs next year because 1.) the image of him playing for St. Louis' most hated enemy seemed like a funny and easy way to rile up any Cards fans, and 2.) at the time, I didn't think there was any way he wasn't staying put. He meant (maybe still means, we're too early in the five stages of loss to tell yet) as much to that city as Peyton does to Indy. I never thought he'd go somewhere else just to chase money. When I went to bed Wednesday, the Marlins had essentially completely dropped out of the contest, and all the baseball insiders I was reading made it seem Pujols would be back with the Cardinals next year. When I woke up the next morning, he was am Angel.

I don't think Pujols and Peyton's situations mirror each other completely (just like Pujols and He-Who-Took-His-Talents-To-South-Beach-And-Shall-Not-Be-Named-On-This-Blog are less comparable than some irate St. Louis fans would lead you to believe), but there are several parallels. Both are stars that outshine their current or former market. Both were the driving forces in bringing championships to their respective cities. And both are aging to the point that they might not be worth the money they'll be making at the end of their current contracts. Pujols' deal was a reported $254 million for 10 years (That's "I'ma buy me an island" kind of money), which will put him at 41 years old at the end of the contract (and that's the conservative estimate. Remember, there are a lot of people around baseball that think he's two to three years older than he says he is). This is perhaps do-able in the AL, where he can play the Jim Thome-perfected "Old Guy Who Hits the DL Every Few Games" routine, but this would have been a crippling contract after about year six for an NL team like the Cardinals. And I think most Cards fans know it was the right move business-wise, but it still hurts to see a player like that go. To all my Cardinals friends, I can only offer a sincere "sorry," and a promise to buy the first round after Dan Snyder inevitably backs a Brinks truck into the Manning driveway.]

The end of Indiana (Jones)?

For what it's worth, I don't think it is Peyton's last year. His replacement is coming closer than we expected, but I don't think we know his name yet. I don't think [owner] Jim Irsay will ever trade or cut Peyton if he still thinks he can play (and when it's your franchise player, your owner gets to make that call). I think Irsay will do everything he can to either make Manning and Luck co-exist (doubtful), or find out Luck's willingness to sit for a few years isn't there, trade for more picks, and get into "win-one-for-Peyton-now" mode. Then maybe take a QB with the first pick in the second round (practically where Andy Dalton landed last year) and go from there (Don't think this is that crazy of an idea. Remember, we live in a world where Alex Smith and Joe "Freakin'" Flacco lead teams are in first place in their divisions).

There's improvements to be made all over this team, and that includes the front-office (Polian has had some really weak drafts in recent years, setting us up for our current predicament) and coaching staff (Jim Caldwell has to go. Sorry, but you don't get to go 0-fer and get another chance. If Irsay has any brains in that rock-n-roll loving head of his, he'll fire Caldwell when the game clock hits 0:00 on New Year's Day and be knocking on Jeff Fisher's door the next morning). But past all of that, the question still remains, do you take Luck or do you gamble on Manning's health for a few more years? 

In a league where one hit can end your season or career, a situation where one player has a lot more years left in him than the other, and a price tag that makes it supremely easier to build around the talented rookie than the hailed veteran, it's an easy decision for your head to make.

But not for your heart. That's what really sucks.

Brian Spicklemire is a composer and percussionist, staunch Indianian and current graduate student at Butler University. Check out his work on Soundcloud and on his website at http://www.brianspicklemire.com.

"Suck Now, Luck Later": Indy's Season of Despair and Contemplation (Part 1)

Ed. Note: There are still renaissance men in the world, and Brian Spicklemire fits that particular bill. Along with being an accomplished percussionist and composer, he's on the track for his Master's degree at Butler University and still finds time to crush the competition at Risk. Most important, "Styx" is a very good sports writer who has already contributed twice to this blog (see "Playoffs? You Kiddin' Me? Playoffs?" and "The ShawShaq Realization"). In this latest piece, he talks about living through the worst Colts' season of recent memory and what the upcoming draft means for the futures of Andrew Luck and Peyton Manning.

There are a few things I always look forward to whenever late November/early December rolls around:  eating left-over Thanksgiving turkey and pumpkin pie; winding down to the end of a semester and finishing some final projects; watching USA Network show Elf approximately 80 times a week (Which isn't enough for me. Elf is far-and-away my favorite Christmas movie. You can have your Santa Clause and It's a Wonderful Life if you want 'em; if there was a station that showed Elf and Jingle All the Way on repeat 24/7, I'd probably never leave the couch).

But there's one last thing that I always look forward to that won't be happening this year: my Indianapolis Colts fighting for playoff position. In fact, they're fighting for pole position in another race entirely. They've spent the season trying everything in their power to avoid it, but they're sucking for Luck.

Past mistakes


I'll save you the recap of the Colts' atrocious season so far for fear of getting half-way through and deciding to go gorge myself on ice-cream and say mean things about Kerry Collins. Let's just say that when NFL films makes their end-of-the-year video for Indy, the soundtrack is going to be provided by The Fray and the only highlight I can see thus far is covering the enormous spread at New England this weekend. We're awful. Putrid. If you had told me that we were being matched up with Boise State in the "Na-na-na-na-na-pa Know How Bowl," and the line was Colts +7, I'd be on the next flight to Vegas to bet against us and collect on what would essentially be free money. We're historically bad.

Maybe it's karma for punting away the perfect season two years ago against the Jets. Maybe we're too old, a team that rested on its laurels for too long and scored a bunch of points and won at least 10 games every year and forgot to take note that the same players making the big plays every year were getting older, and that in a game like football you truly have to continuously find good youth in maintaining your team. We essentially lost a good year out of Reggie Wayne, Jeff Saturday, Dwight Freeney and Robert Mathis that we'll never get back. What worse is that all of those players just mentioned have expiring contracts in the next two years (most of them after this year), as do young talented receivers Pierre Garçon and Austin Collie, and we have no realistic chance of re-signing all of them.

Weighed, measured, and found wanting


But more than anything it just proves what the pundits and studio crews have said all year: you really do need an elite, high-caliber QB to compete in this league year after year. Back-ups who are unprepared to step into a starting role just can't get the job done (cue the entire city of Chicago nodding their heads begrudgingly). As much as the Indy faithful tried to talk themselves into Kerry Collins' brief Indianapolis vacation, and then poor blond Curtis Painter, and now Dan Orlovsky, we never really had a chance once Peyton got his third surgery right before the season.

Painter (who should have had way more motivation than anyone else on the team to get a few Ws this season so he wouldn't have to fight Luck for a back-up spot on the team next year), spent the last two months woefully under- or overthrowing receivers like an old man who put the wrong prescription glasses on. The defense got exposed for what it is: a below-average secondary whose only strength was its Freeney/Mathis pass rush which, as every single analyst will tell you, was built to play with a lead. (The more I hear that, the more it is starting to sound ridiculous. Have you ever heard of a defense being built with the mentality of, "OK guys, we pretty much have no shot of ever leading in this ballgame so we need you to basically do the offense's job for us, cause we have no prayer of ever having a lead." I mean, ya know, outside of Denver?) 

Besides a few early draft picks last April (who have been battling injuries all season), the offensive line hasn't been truly upgraded since team president Bill Polian threw them under the bus after the Super Bowl loss two years ago, and Betty White could have run back a touchdown against our special teams last week. The Colts aren't even trying to tank, and find themselves fait accompli to have the top pick in next April's draft.

Look for Part 2 coming later this week.

JS

The Shaw-Shaq Realization

(Ed. Note: As I've said before, I'm not the only guy sitting in the cheap seats. Brian "Styx" Spicklemire is not only a great composer (though he is from Indiana), he's also an avid sports fan and solid writer. Here's his take on the recent retirement of NBA great Shaquille O'Neal.)

Shaquille O'Neal officially retired from basketball Friday, ending an 19-year career that saw "The Big Diesel" accumulate four NBA championships between two teams, three finals MVPs, and 15 All-Star selections. He finishes his playing days fifth on the all-time scoring list, and along with Kareem,Wilt, and Russell, officially puts his face on Mount Rushmore (to steal an analogy used by just about everyone at ESPN since they stole it from Bill Simmons) as one of the greatest big-men of all time. He is perhaps the most physically dominant athlete I've ever seen play live, and is the only man on the planet that could make a seven-foot tall rapping genie seem plausible (if not enjoyable).

After making the announcement via social media, Shaq was interviewed on SportsCenter, and said that he was considering playing next season, saying:

"I really, really thought about coming back, but this Achilles (the injury that has plagued him all year,) is very damaged and if I had it done the recovery would be so long we'd have same outcome as this last year -- everyone sitting around and waiting for me.

I didn't want to let people down two years in a row. I didn't want to hold Boston hostage again."

It's difficult for athletes to walk away from a game they've played and loved their whole life. I'm sure "The Big Aristotle" believes in his heart of hearts that he could have played another season if it weren't for a bad ankle. It's hard for anyone to know when it's time to move on to the next stage in their life, be it a professional athlete or just a regular person. we get used to a comfortable routine, or a great feeling, or a lifestyle.

We get, as Red from The Shawshank Redemption would put it, institutionalized.

Life imitates art

There's an important scene in the movie where Brooks, an old inmate who's been in jail for decades, tries to kill fellow inmate and friend Heywood, so that they won't release him on parole and send him away from the prison. Morgan Freeman's soothing voice is able to stop him (and really, couldn't Morgan Freeman's mellow baritone convince anyone to do basically anything? I mean, besides bringing the FIFA World Cup to America and to take Evan Almighty seriously?) and later, the group of inmates recount the attack:

Andy: I just don't understand what happened in there.
Heywood: Old man's crazy as a rat in a tin shithouse, is what.
Red: Oh Heywood, that's enough out of you!
Ernie: I heard he had you shittin' in your pants!
Heywood: Fuck you!
Red: Would you knock it off? Brooks ain't no bug. He's just...just institutionalized.
Heywood: Institutionalized, my ass.
Red: The man's been in here fifty years, Heywood. Fifty years! This is all he knows. In here, he's an important man. He's an educated man. Outside, he's nothin'! Just a used-up con with arthritis in both hands.
Replace the words "fifty" with "twenty," "con" with "rapper/actor/reality TV star," and "arthritis in both hands" with "a body that gave up on him five years ago," and you've got O'Neal. An all-time great player who did everything short of advertising himself as "Shaqwater," playing mercenary for the Cavs and Celtics these last couple years trying to chase one more championship; trying to hold onto that feeling. But I think he knew he was done, if not last year after not being able to take Lebron to the NBA finals, then in 11 painful-to-watch playoff minutes against Lebron this year. That's when he knew.

That's when he had "the realization."

Twilight of their careers
There seems to be a string of major sports figures retiring recently. Phil Jackson finished an incredible career with 11 NBA titles and probably owns the title of greatest basketball coach of all time, (though I personally put Wooden ahead of him) said last year that he was thinking about retiring, but decided to come back for a chance at another three-peat. Did he hang on for one season too long? Maybe, maybe not, but the Lakers' outcome this season certainly didn't match up to what he must've hoping for.
Brett Favre is probably the best recent example of someone hanging on too long. Everybody gives Favre grief (and deservedly so) for holding the Packers and Vikings hostage while he was debating whether or not he was coming back for another season, though the media should get some credit/blame for turning that into a circus. (By the way, does Ed Werder know that he doesn't hafta go back and camp on on Favre's lawn this year? Does he just get all of July-August off now? What else does he have to do?)

Still, it's easy to understand why the decision would be so tough for him to make. He was walking away from a game that meant everything to him. Wouldn't you need a clear-cut reason to walk away from something that had been your daily life for the last 20-plus years?

By the way, as I write that paragraph, every Colts fan, including myself is preparing for what I'm dubbing the "Peyton Manning Retirement Tour": the last three or four seasons after Manning's prime that he continues to come back play, regardless of whatever pundits think he should do. It'll probably be painful to watch, but if the Favre-Packers saga taught front offices everywhere something, it's that you've gotta let your franchise player go out on his own terms. When they mean as much to the team/city as Favre did/Peyton does, it's the right thing to do.

He knows he had skillz
See, it's easy to understand why Shaq would try to extend his career by playing seventh or eighth banana, albeit on a championship squad. Even with an athlete that has as promising a future career ahead of him, (somewhere between NBA analyst and TV star, and I'm thinking reality TV. You're telling me that if he, with his interest in law enforcement, decided to star in a new reality series with "Dog the Bounty Hunter", you wouldn't be glued to the TV. It would easily be better than "Franklin & Bash".)

And this isn't limited to athletes; it's hard for anyone to move on past a significant portion of their life, so we find ways to hold onto the parts that make us feel comfortable. We fall in love with a particular movie or song, not because it necessarily is any good, but because we identify it with a time we wish we could get back too. It reminds us of some time when everything seemed perfect. It's why every guy in his thirties I know still blasts Metallica, friends of mine will still defend the time they saw "Prince of Persia" to the death, and every time we hear Train's "Hey, Soul Sister," all we can think about is how great that one summer was (Sidenote: I'm convinced that playing off of these emotions is the only way Train has been able to sustain a music career).

It doesn't matter how it ended, or why, or when; we latch onto those things, these images and sounds that bring us back to visceral memories of a time where everything seemed to fit. Whatever "it" is for us, it's the closest we can get back to it. Eventually, something happens and we realize that it's nothing more than a memory, that we should've moved on already and we've missed our window for a timely exit.

That's the realization: that, painful as it may be to move away from something that means so much to us, we have to leave because whatever "it" is, it's just not there anymore.

I think Phil Jackson realized it after getting walloped in Game 3 against Dallas. For Favre, it was probably sometime between concussions while playing on fumes for a Vikings team that just couldn't reproduce the magic they had one season earlier. For Jorge Posada, it was probably the time he had to reflect and have the realization after getting dropped in the batting order last month and subsequently pulling himself from the next game. It took that event for him to figure out what everyone else already knew: that the familiar praise for the numbers he wasn't putting up anymore was over.

Derek Jeter is experiencing the same thing right now on his quest to perfectly re-enact the movie "Mr. 3000." Not being able to play the way you're used to, and having people remind you of how far you've fallen from your prime is tough. They've been institutionalized. For me, it's whenever I'm listening to the radio and I remember how ridiculous the line "(You're) So gangster/I'm so thug" is. It hits us square in the face (or in Favre's case, I suppose it's somewhere between the torso and back of the head) and we realize the moment has passed, and however hard we try, we can't go back to it.

Whatever we're trying to hold on to is gone.

It's especially hard for athletes, who have been conditioned to compete their whole lives, to accept this fact. Luckily, we mostly forgive them of their realization-failures. When Shaq's legacy is discussed years from now, we won't talk about his last two stops in Cleveland and Boston, just like how we remember Jordan's last moment as the jumper over Bryon Russell, and not the last 2 seasons he played with the Wizards. (I'll pause a second for Bulls fans everywhere to erase the Washington years in their heads again.)

Shaq vs...the future

Friday, as soon as O'Neal had made it official, there was already speculation as too how long it would be until the "Shaqtus" officially unretires. For what it's worth, I think he's done. He has plenty of opportunities ahead of him, and seems to be at peace with his decision.

Still, eight months from now, when that Achilles is healed, and some struggling team (hopefully not from Indiana) needs one more veteran big man on their roster, he's gonna get multiple calls. Will he take any of them into serious consideration?

Red probably said it best:

"These walls are funny. First you hate 'em, then you get used to 'em. Enough time passes, you get so you depend on them. That's institutionalized."

I can understand why Shaq would want to play one more season. Why he and so many other pro athletes get to the realization that it's time to move on a little while after everyone else has figured it out. They're still comfortable, they're institutionalized. And sometimes all you can think about is getting back inside those walls.

Brian Spicklemire is a composer, percussionist, part-time astronomer and Harrison Ford stunt double from Indianapolis, Indiana. You can hear his music on his website (www.brianspicklemire.com) and follow him on Twitter (BLAMOtis).