Kyle Garlett Blogs

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Memories For Christmas

In all of my years, at all of my Christmases, there is one Christmas present that stands out above the rest. The original Millennium Falcon action toy. This was the big boy - more than two feet across. Although for the 7-year old me, it felt like five or six.

The cockpit opened up, providing you a place to stick Han and Chewy. The top pulled off revealing seats for Luke, Leia, C-3PO, and R2-D2. And of course it had the dejarik hologame table. (Only the hardcore geeks will know what that is). It was huge, it was awesome, it was played with for hours and hours, and I still remember walking out to the living room that Christmas morning and seeing it sitting under the tree.

The Millennium Falcon - One Badass Toy

For me, Christmas time is as much about making new memories, as it for reflecting on old ones. Yes, when I was a child many of those memories revolved around toys. Dinner in the afternoon was almost an annoyance, because it meant that I was forced to leave my shiny new plaything alone in a corner for a couple of hours. But toys aside, and the joy and anticipation of tearing into a new package not withstanding, memories, from even when I was just a boy, involve so much more.

Christmas has always been a time for family. Few, if any, were spent with just the four of us (my parents, me, and my brother.) We almost always found ourselves...

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For the Love

This summer I've been working with the London Blitz of the British American Football Association. I write their games stories and I've been providing online radio play-by-play, and this past Sunday we wrapped up the regular season. But thankfully the Blitz are good and they finished second in the South Division - the playoffs will begin on August 24th with us hosting the Lancashire Wolverines - and so my very enjoyable first year foray into the world of Brits playing American football continues.

First as a fan growing up, and then as a writer for Fox Sports, I've watched and covered a huge number of football teams from all levels of play. But there is something extra special about a team that isn't playing for a paycheck, or a scholarship, or notoriety, or the potential of any of those possibilities down the road. These men instead pay out of their own pocket to run the league. Most of their fellow countrymen know about the NFL, and many do follow a team back in The States, but very few of them are aware that there is tiered league (much like the structure of football/soccer here in England) playing right here in the U.K. And other than the diehards, friends and family members of players, and the lucky American football fan who happens upon a game, they play largely in anonymity. 

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Choosing Happiness

This past weekend my wife and I were in Amsterdam. And as with almost everyone else who visits the city, seeing Anne Frank's house was high on our list of must-dos. The visit did not disappoint.

It's an amazing thing, to think about the life Jews were forced to live during the days of the Nazis. And the visit to the small apartment that Anne and seven others were forced to hide out in for more than two years shakes loose a number of thoughts about humanity, resiliency, and happiness.

It's shocking to consider that in the fear of the time, ordinary Dutch citizens posed almost as big a threat to the group hiding in the Annex as did their Nazi occupiers. And because of that, even when there was no threat from the authorities, the blackout curtains remained a 24-hour necessity. The windows are still blackened today, giving you a real sense of the isolation that they must have felt.

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