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Send Chainsaws, Guns and Millers

This is Officer Lee Groinman.

That’s right, the disgusted, angry-as-hell, not gonna take it any more cop!!

There comes a time when you just gotta stand up and take a stand. I did just that last Saturday night at the orygun game. I stood up and walked out of Husky Stadium with about four minutes left in the game. Now some dawg fans do this on a weekly basis as if this was just a norm, not me. No Sir, not Groinman. But a mold had to be broken. For twenty-five years I’ve remained in my seat until the final gun, win or lose.

Something in me snapped Saturday night. I nearly booed as I walked out but resisted that temptation. I’ve never booed a player, maybe a coach or two and a few dozen refs, but never a player. Some things are still sacred I suppose. Until next week anyway...

By Dawg what a month it’s been. I told ya’ that I got transferred to a new facility a while back, it was just before the u$c game. I drive into the facility and flash my ID badge into the panel by the front gate, the front gate starts to open, I’ll be darned...I pull my ol’ Dodge Diesel up next to one of these new-fangled hybrid type cars, the ones that you have to pedal to get ‘em started, ya’ know those kind? So I steps out of my Dodge and on the back window of this new hybrid is this window sticker that says “USC MOM”.

It’s been that kinda’ month.. 

So I walk across the parking lot and entry my password into the entry panel then hit the # sign, wait 4.5 seconds, then swipe my ID badge against the panel and the front door opens! Ain’t technology grand!

I walk thru the Officer’s break room and on the reader board there’s this sign that reads...


Underneath the sign was a full size photo of ME!!

It was really tastefully done and so professional! Nearly brought a tear to ol’ Groinman’s eyes. These guys are just like family...

One of the side benefits to this transfer was that I’d be teamed back up with an Officer that I’d worked with before, my ol’ buddy Earl. Now you may know of some of Earl’s family. Earl is named after his Uncle Earl. Earl Pitts of radio and TV fame, you may of heard of him.

Now Officer Earl is a die-hard sports fan, it’s sports 24/7 with Earl. He coaches little league football and basketball for kicks. He is also a rabid Dawg fan. I enter the muster room and there’s Earl arguing over the MVP of the 1933 World Series...just pull the string.

“What up Earl?” “Hey Groinman! Great to have another dawg in the dog house!”

“Hey Lee, let me tell ya’ this. What’s gonna happen against u$c this week is this, there’s gonna be two big plays in the fourth quarter that go the dawgs way and we get the big upset. U$C is ripe for the fall. I can just feel it!!”

“Last week against ucla was just a fluke! We make a couple of tackles, make a play here or there, and that’s a big W Lee! And Jake is just learning!!”

The followin’ week Earl had this bit of advise...

“ASU hasn’t played anybody, Erickson’s crafty, but this one is our party...”

The next week Earl had this bit of wisdom...

“Lee, this is what’s happening. Mid fourth quarter, the Dawgs get a couple of big plays, a couple of big plays that go our way. Orygun is banged up. They’re ripe for the upset! I can just feel it!!”

I sense a bit of a theme to Earl Logic...

This week, Earl’s been quiet. He’s got that mad ex -Jar-head look about him.

This week, as I said, Groinman’s been disgusted...

I’m trying to learn to not let the actions of a bunch of twenty-something kids ruin my life. It’s a tough lesson.

I’m turning to other things to try and scratch whatever itch that is that needs scratchin’.

I’m needin’ something with power and noise.

The late Warren Zevon once sang.

“Send Lawyers, guns, and money

The shet has hit the fan..”

Groinman says...

“Send chainsaws, guns, and Miller 

These Dawgs have ground my beans.”

So I fuel up the ol’ Dodge and mix up some two-cycle gas and oil mix for the chainsaw. I’m feelin’ kinda’ like a coug now. This is like Coug recreation 101.

“Get yer chainsaw fueled up and don’t ferget that bar oil, never ferget that bar oil boy.”

So I call up my coug buddy Jerry and we head up to the hills to get me a load of firwood for da’ winter. Dang I’m starting to sound like some coug. Need a remedy quick, how about a little can of whoop-ass for Arizona? Ya’ think?

Jerry and I stop at the Ranger station to get the cutting permit only to find that firewood season is over and has been for weeks. The Lady tells us to call the Dept. of Natural Resources because we just may get permission to cut.

We call the DNR and get ahold of another woman who tells us that we need to talk to “Chuck”. “But Chuck is at lunch right now and won’t be back for about another two and a half hours...”

Well we’ve come this far. So we decide to go for it and head up into the hills. We pass all these hunter camps and just keep going. We’ve now lost all cell phone coverage, it’s starting to get cold, it was a warm day.

After about two hours on this rocky and rutted goat trail, the trail comes to an abrupt end on top of this huge mountain side. The view is awesome. The trees up here are all changin’ colors, I suppose these are those carnivorous type of trees. At the base of this orange colored carnivore sits this huge slag pile of wood, beautiful! As if by magic we suddenly get cell phone coverage! We call the Natural Resources place, Chuck is back from Lunch!

“I’m sorry boys, you’ll need written permission to cut that wood, takes about a week to ten days...”

It’s been that kinda month....

But all was not lost. Ya’ see I’ve been working on this business adventure of mine. I’ve made up these targets for shooting. On one side I’ve got a life size photo of a Horse named Bab’s and what’s real cool is that on the other side is a photo of a Duck named Mike. This gives the avid Husky fan a choice, and isn’t that what life is about? Choices?

So I’m setting up the target. This horse’s butt is looking at me, I snicker and set her up against this hollow stump by the slag pile. Jerry is sitting on my tailgate loading up a clip of 9mm ammo into my Browning while sucking on a can of Miller.

There’s a commercial made for TV in there somewhere...

I look down into this stump. My highly trained Law enforcement eyes tell me that I’ve found the perfect “target accessory” for Babs the horse. A crudely constructed, homemade device commonly used for the smoking of cannabis, a plastic 7-up bottle with a cardboard core cut into its side, a bong.

As if by instinct I grab my toolbox and grab some electrical tape, in a split instant the bong is taped to the horse’s mouth!!

I sure am glad I bought that extra box of ammo...

This perfect day off soon came to an end. We were out of ammo. The horse and duck were all blasted, the cans were all blasted and we were all... uhh... ready to go.

Somehow some of those logs did find their way into the back of the Dodge. I suppose they were just souvenir logs, yup, living life on the dangerous side. Kinda’ like Husky Football without the perks. I’m not even sure what that means, just blowing off some steam.

So I tell Officer Earl yesterday.

 “Now Earl let me tell you this! There’s gonna come a time in the fourth quarter, The Dawgs are gonna be in prime position, a couple of big plays go our way and we win going away!! Jake has arrived and Arizona sucks! Can you FEEL it?”


“Sounds like Groinman Logic to me there Lee.”

“You got any better and brighter ideas there Earl?”

Groinmans tip of the week: Dawgs win, they cover more than the spread.

 “And this time I don’t mean maybe.”

Don’t know precisely what that means, but that’s what Mom Groinman always told me when she was is a disgusted frame of mind...


“There may come a day when I have nothing to say...

But there will never come a day when I quit saying it...

Officer Lee Groinman.”

Groinman can be reached at malamute@4malamute.com

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