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Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Driver Sues State of Oregon

Driver who plunged 50 feet off I-84 sues state for $7.25 million, charges bad freeway design

Article thanks to and Aimee Green. Links provided:

June, 2015  An 18-wheel commercial truck driver who plummeted 50 feet off an Interstate 84 exit ramp -- and dangled upside down in his wrecked truck for an hour before he was rescued -- has filed a $7.25 million lawsuit against the Oregon Department of Transportation.
David Lee Sitton faults poor design of the Interstate 84 ramp that merges onto Interstate 5 northbound near Portland's Lloyd Center District. That design prompted a driver of a Nissan Versa to suddenly change lanes and collide into Sitton's Mack truck, according to the lawsuit filed in Multnomah County Circuit Court on Wednesday.
The crashed happened at 3:29 a.m. June 19, 2013. At the time, state transportation officials told The Oregonian/OregonLivethat the collision illustrated the risks of the heavily trafficked Y-junction, which they had wanted to redesign for years.
About 76,000 vehicles traverse the junction on an average day. In the five years before Sitton's crash, the state recorded 31 collisions at the junction.
Within months of Sitton's crash, the state Department of Transportation went ahead with plans to close the freeway on a series of weekends. Workers added new signs and repaved and redesigned the three lanes of I-84 that split onto I-5.
Where formerly the middle of the three lanes gave drivers the option of either merging onto I-5 North or South, the middle lane now only allows drivers to merge onto I-5 South.
That means that only the right lane now allows drivers to merge onto I-5 North.
Sitton's lawsuit states that before the redesign, he was lawfully driving in the middle lane as he merged onto the two-lane ramp heading north, toward I-5 North. The driver of the Nissan Versa was in the far-right lane of the two-lane ramp. When she realized that her lane was an "exit only" lane that was forcing her to take the Rose Quarter exit, she suddenly swerved into Sitton's lane, the suit states. She struck his truck, sending it into the curb and guardrail on the left side of the ramp, according to the suit.
Sitton's suit claims that the curb served no use but to launch his truck up toward the low guardrail, which failed to stop his truck. He and the truck tumbled down 50 feet to the ground. The Oregonian/OregonLive at the time reported that Sitton was hauling a 53-foot trailer that was empty, as part of his job hauling trash out of Portland to Arlington.
"Due to the severity of the accident and the destroyed condition of Plaintiff's truck, first responders believed that Plaintiff had been immediately killed by the force of the accident," reads Sitton's suit. "Plaintiff, however, was not killed by the accident. First-responders reported hearing Plaintiff screaming for help as he hung upside down in his mangled truck cab with one leg pinned and crushed."
The suit states that while Sitton waited for rescuers to use the "Jaws of Life" to free him, he supported his weight by holding his arms against the ceiling of the truck's cab to prevent "his pinned leg from separating from his body."
Sitton, who was 67 at the time of the crash, wasn't able to drive trucks for more than a year after the incident. The suit states that he has undergone many surgeries; his prognosis is uncertain; and he still suffers a decreased range of motion in his legs. That has significantly affected his enjoyment of life and ability to take part in activities, such as a planned cross-country trip and spending time with his grandchildren, according to the suit.
"Plaintiff's once vibrant life is now substantially more stationary," the suit states.
Dave Thompson, a Department of Transportation spokesman, declined comment on the suit, saying the department doesn't talk about pending litigation.
Although Wednesday's lawsuit only lists the Department of Transportation as a defendant, Sitton in 2014 sued the driver of the Nissan Sentra, Jordan Ashlee Sylvester. Sitton sought $7.5 million. The case was settled in April 2015 for an amount not disclosed in court records.
Sylvester was ticketed for making an "unlawful or unsignaled change of lanes," according to court records.
Portland attorneys Stephen English, Erick Haynie and Gabrielle Richards represent Sitton.
-- Aimee Green

Saturday, August 22, 2015

My $3.63 Incredible Brass Bicycle Bell (Chrome Plated!)

The last couple of months I’ve gotten my old fold-up bicycle out of the shed, aired up the tires, oiled the rusty chain and have started riding it again. We live next to the Jordan River, which has a really nice trail that runs north and south almost the entire length of the Salt Lake valley. It’s pretty popular with a lot of people using it, especially on weekends, walking, jogging and bicycling.

With the need to pass a lot of people and a few narrow blind corners on the trail with people coming the other way, I went on Amazon to look for a bicycle bell like the old ones we had when we were kids. I’ve gotten tired of having to call out a warning every time I’m approaching someone from behind, “bicycle on your left!”. Looking on Amazon, I found one for $3.43 that included free shipping and ordered it. We have been Amazon Prime members for a couple years and the convenience of free two day shipping and ordering from the sofa of home has won me over.

I ordered it on August 3rd and it shipped on the fourth. Today is the 22nd and I still had not received it, so I sent an email yesterday asking what is taking so long for such a small item?

Several hours later I got a response from a KongYiJi from Singapore! I assume it was a woman, I’m not sure, who wrote that the item left by Singapore Post and it takes 17 to 28 days to be delivered in the U.S. In somewhat broken English writing, she basically stated “don’t worry, it’s coming, you’ll be happy”.

This item was not sold by Amazon, but by an Amazon partner and it didn’t include the free two day Prime shipping. This KongYiJi, however, did include free shipping with the order. What I can’t understand is how there is any profit to be made shipping a $3.43 item from Singapore to be delivered to my home in the U.S.? Being curious, I pulled up and looked at their Bicycle bells and all were $5.00 or more with the exception of one that looked incredibly shoddy. The wonders of modern shipping, I guess.

PS, I just checked today's mail and the package has arrived! It's quite a small bell but it has a loud enough, pleasant ring. There's a link below if you want one of your own.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Towing heavy the easy way

Husky Towing Products’ Center Line WD hitch
with active sway control.

Center Line hitch makes it easy to manage those heavy equipment and utility trailers with lighter duty pickups and full-size SUVs

Article thanks to Bruce Smith and Links provided:

The front wheels of the pickup pulling a 24-foot equipment trailer came off the ground for a couple seconds as it crossed over a raised railroad crossing. It looked all the world like one of those pro street racers leaving the impromptu starting line on Street Outlaws.
What stopped the upward lurch was the trailer ball on the hitch hitting the ground, sending sparks flying.
Oblivious to what happened, or just unconcerned, the driver motored on down the road with the mini excavator securely strapped to the trailer deck.
Pickups and SUVs towing heavy equipment and utility trailers on the factory hitches, front ends high, rear suspensions sagging under the loads, is an all-too-common sight. And one that should be disconcerting to the company owner.
Not only is towing in such a manner unsafe because vehicle control is compromised, it’s a serious liability issue for the vehicle’s driver and the company that owns or has contracted the tow vehicle for the task.
A contractor friend of mine in Mississippi fits right into the “my truck can handle anything I need to tow” mentality: his tow vehicle is an ’03 Suburban.
He uses it to tow everything from car trailers to trailers to a hydraulic dump trailer used primarily to haul away landscaping debris.
And he does it all using the OEM factory Class IV hitch and receiver.
He doesn’t care much about being “properly equipped” for the trailer weights he’s pulling around.
At least not until a recent close call with losing control of his vehicle while towing the dump trailer made him re-evaluate his towing setup.
He decided, after all these years, to install a WD hitch per GM’s recommendations. .
What he ended up getting installed is a Husky Towing Products’ Center Line WD system. It took less than an hour to install and set up. It’s competitively priced. But best of all, it provides the optimum in trailer sway control.
The Center Line WD hitch incorporates a new design to help minimize sway using special trunnions that have built-in springs to apply progressive-compression pressure so the spring bars fight against trailer sway.
This “active sway control” system is smooth and efficient. (More conventional WD hitches use friction at the ends of the sway bars to dampen sway, which is far less efficient.)
Now that he has it set up for his tow vehicle it only takes about 60 seconds to hook up the trailer and hit the road.
“I can’t believe how much nicer it is towing that trailer,” my friend Karl said when we hit the road for a test drive with the Big Tex dump trailer filling up the rear glass. “It almost drives like I don’t have the trailer back there. This is something I should have done years ago.”
And they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks…
What Karl still needs to be reminded of is that just because he is utilizing a WD hitch doesn’t mean he can tow an even bigger trailer. There’s still that little issue of Gross Vehicle Weight Ratings to contend with.

Saturday, August 15, 2015

LOST and FOUND - Interview with Green Bay Packer Coach Mike McCarthy

What a great piece I found on, written by Mike Silver about Packer coach Mike McCarthy and the days and months following the Packers loss to the Seahawks in the NFL title game last season! Re-printed below with links provided:


August, 2015  The phone call came in on a Friday, a day on which men in Mike McCarthy's position -- getting ready to coach a championship game, with one victory standing between him and a spot on football's grandest stage -- typically tune out the noise, be it a legion of talking heads forecasting defeat or a ubiquitous smartphone ringtone. 

McCarthy took this call, though, because it was from his only brother, who'd been contemplating a cross-country trip to watch the Green Bay Packers battle the Seattle Seahawks for the NFC championship two days later. 

"Don't worry about the tickets," Mike, the Packers' coach since 2006, had assured Joe McCarthy, a Pittsburgh-area lawyer. "I've got you covered there." 

Replied Joe: "I can't get a flight. I mean, there's nothing ..." Then, jokingly, he asked, "Hey, if I can get to Green Bay, can you get me a seat on the team plane?" 

Mike laughed. "You know what, Joe? Don't sweat it. Just get ready for the Super Bowl. 'Cause we're going -- and you're going." 

And then, swiftly and shockingly, it all went terribly wrong.

Losing a conference title game, especially in a fashion as cruel and unusual as the Packers experienced on that surreal Sunday at CenturyLink Field last January, is a gut-wrenching event. This is particularly true for the person charged with plotting the preparation and making the bulk of the strategic decisions on game day. And Green Bay's 28-22 overtime defeat to the Seahawks -- after one of the most inglorious collapses in NFL history -- left McCarthy, 51, in a state of stunned bewilderment. 

One of the few things that momentarily cheered him up in the immediate aftermath was a brief, heartfelt message from his brother. "First guy to text me after the game," Mike recalled last month. "That's the kind of guy he is. Nothing about the game, just, 'Can't wait to see you, can't wait to hear what the kids have to say to you, [they're gonna] tackle you when you get home ...' All about life and family; didn't even mention the game." 

Yet if there was value in distancing himself from the torment of watching the Packers, who'd dominated the game's first 56 minutes, blow a 12-point lead in the final four minutes of regulation, McCarthy didn't embrace it. Instead, he opened his laptop and cued up the game film on the team's subdued flight back to Green Bay that Sunday night, then spent the next two days conducting emotional exit interviews with each player on the roster. 

By Wednesday morning, McCarthy was drained and exhausted. As he sat in his Lambeau Field office with Packers director of public relations Jason Wahlers, preparing for a season-ending press conference scheduled to begin less than an hour later, he took another phone call -- this time from his father, Joseph Sr., who delivered jolting and tragic news: Joe McCarthy, a married father of three, had gone to the gym, collapsed and died at age 47.

Suddenly, losing a football game was a tangential sorrow for a grief-stricken big brother and his large, close-knit family. Needless to say, the press conference was postponed. 

"It was just surreal, overwhelming, crushing ..." Mike McCarthy said. "No signs -- nothing -- and you just can't believe you're in that moment. I didn't handle it very well." 

More than six months later, as he prepares to begin his 10th season as the coach of a team many have cast as a Super Bowl 50 favorite, McCarthy still remembers the helpless agony he felt during his drive home from Lambeau on that horrible Wednesday morning -- and still gets choked up when discussing his brother. (The coach's wife, Jessica, began to cry when the subject was broached during a recent phone interview, saying, "It's still really hard for us to talk about it.") 

Change has been a constant theme since McCarthy yanked off his headset in Seattle last January: Shortly after delivering an emotional eulogy at Joe's funeral in Cranberry Township, Pennsylvania -- a suburb of Pittsburgh, where he and his four siblings were raised -- McCarthy put aside his personal pain and contemplated a dramatic move that he felt could invigorate his team, even though it would force him to give up something he loved. 

And when, on Feb. 12, McCarthy announced he would no longer call the Packers' offensive plays, it made a significant statement to those who know him best. 

"It says that he cares about the team more than he cares about his ego or the perception of what this change is," said quarterback Aaron Rodgers, the NFL's reigning Most Valuable Player. "It says a lot about him. He's not a big rah-rah guy; he's not out in the media trying to get a ton of attention. He just cares about winning. And that's how we do things in Green Bay."

If McCarthy is intending to send a visual reminder of the transformation he has spearheaded in Titletown, no one can accuse him of being subtle. In addition to changing his role and overhauling the responsibilities of numerous assistants, McCarthy spent the offseason growing a bushy beard that would make him look right at home in a Mumford & Sons video. "I'm looking for an edge on the sidelines, come winter," McCarthy joked on a misty Monday morning in June as he sat on a folding chair outside the clubhouse of The Legend at Bergamont, the Madison-area club where he and Jessica host their annual golf tournament. 

It was a rare moment of levity in an otherwise heavy interaction. During much of our hour-long conversation before his foursome teed off, McCarthy touched on emotionally charged topics, from his and Jessica's attachment to the Madison-based American Family Children's Hospital (the recipient of the event's proceeds) to his memories of Joe, a lawyer he described as a "super, wicked-intelligent man."

He also fielded questions about the January debacle in Seattle, a sequel to the infamous "Fail Mary" of 2012 and a missed opportunity that, in its pivotal moments, constituted more of an Epic Fail

Until those final minutes, Green Bay had played a gritty, poised and comprehensively impressive game against the defending Super Bowl champion Seahawks, a team that had christened the 2014 season bysmacking the Pack around in the same stadium. Even with Rodgers severely hobbled by a painful calf injury, the Packers were the aggressors, and their much-maligned defense had completely shut down the Seattle attack. With five minutes remaining, it was 19-7, with the Seahawks' sole score having come off a fake field goal, and quarterback Russell Wilson had just thrown his fourth interception. 

Many of the normally voluble fans at CenturyLink sat in stunned silence, mimicking the mindset of much of the football-watching nation. McCarthy, however, had seen it all coming. 

"The whole second half of the season, it was building and you could feel it and everything was coming together," McCarthy said. "And just the whole [NFC championship] week -- everybody was picking against us, 'cause I don't think a lot of people felt we had a chance to win that game, which was mind-boggling to me. I was just telling the guys, 'Just trust the film, trust your preparation.' We practiced at a high school field Saturday afternoon, a little city stadium right there in Seattle -- cool spot, all cement, lightly raining, just like the game -- and we went out there and had a really crisp hour-long practice. When we walked off the practice field Saturday, we were extremely confident. And it's unfortunate, because we put ourselves in position to win that game." 

Instead of facing the New England Patriots (a team they'd defeated in November for the chance to capture a second Lombardi Trophy in five seasons, McCarthy and the Packers headed home to ponder where it had all broken down. 

At some point, McCarthy pulled out the yellow legal pad he keeps by his desk and started searching for answers. 

"I'm a little bit of the old school," McCarthy explained. "When I worked [as an offensive coordinator] in New Orleans, I worked with [fellow assistant] Rick Venturi, and he had been around forever -- had seen it all, twice. He always used to say, 'Don't get too far from the yellow pad,' and that's something I've always appreciated. 'Cause in this era of computer coaching, it's really easy to get away from the nuts and bolts of it. I keep a yellow pad on the right side of my desk, and I write things down as they happen during the course of the year. Because after each year, I think it's very important to try to obviously improve, and being honest about improving everything. And I start with myself. Giving up the play-calling is something I've thought about for a couple of years, and I've probably only shared it with only one or two, maybe three people. And Aaron's one of them."

Last January, I likened McCarthy and Rodgers to Spinal Tap's two visionaries, David St. Hubbins and Nigel Tufnel, detailing the passionate but healthy push and pull between the two men most invested in the Pack's prolific attack. That Rodgers was in the loop regarding the possibility that McCarthy might hand off his most cherished game-day responsibility to longtime assistant (and newly promoted "associate head coach/offense") Tom Clements is a testament to the quarterback's standing within the organization, and to McCarthy's faith in the partnership. 

Yet even Rodgers was caught off guard by the timing of the announcement, which McCarthy conceded was "kinda awkward ... because of the loss to Seattle, and obviously with my brother passing." 

And as much as McCarthy insists that the move was not a knee-jerk reaction to the NFC Championship Game, it's easy to see why some people got that impression. In retrospect, Green Bay can be faulted for a lack of killer instinct, as well as mental breakdowns by coaches and players on some pivotal plays. There was the decision by since-fired special teams coordinator Shawn Slocum to call an aggressive rush on Seattle's third-quarter field goal attempt, despite Green Bay holding a 16-0 lead, which left the Packers susceptible to the fake. There was since-released tight end Brandon Bostick's calamitous decision to try to field a late onside kick, even though his job was to block for star receiver Jordy Nelson, who was in position to catch it cleanly. And there was safety Ha-Ha Clinton-Dix's passive approach on Wilson's up-for-grabs, across-the-body throw on a two-point conversion that Luke Willson hauled in to give Seattle a three-point advantage in the final minutes of regulation. 

The decision by McCarthy to delegate the play-calling to Clements, thus freeing himself up to devote more focus to other areas, seems like a logical response to what happened in Seattle. 

"I think that Mike wanted to have a closer relationship to the other parts of the team ... which I think can really help us in the long run," Rodgers said last month in South Lake Tahoe, Nevada, where he was preparing to play in the American Century Celebrity Golf Championship. "And you've seen that in this offseason. We've definitely made some changes that have Mike McCarthy's stamp on them." 

For example, McCarthy has immersed himself in improving the Pack's special teams, joining newly promoted special teams coordinator Ron Zook -- another coach with whom McCarthy worked in New Orleans, and a former college head coach at Florida and Illinois -- in the professional equivalent of a six-month cleanse.

"Special teams has always been fun to me," McCarthy said. "It was always on a limited basis. Now, I'm in there full-time. Ron and I went through every page with [assistant special teams coach] Jason Simmons, redid the whole playbook. That's been fun." 

Similarly, McCarthy looks forward to providing an "offensive perspective, not only on how to play, but how to train" to the defensive side of the ball, where Dom Capers returns for his seventh season as coordinator. 

Most of all, in his preferred area of concentration, McCarthy saw an opportunity to shake things up -- and, he hopes, draw attention to the contributions of some of the men on his staff. Not only did the head coach promote Clements, whose tenure in Green Bay coincides with those of McCarthy and Rodgers, but he also expanded the roles of Edgar Bennett (who moves from receivers coach to offensive coordinator, inheriting Clements' former title) and Alex Van Pelt (who'll now double as quarterbacks and receivers coach). 

"We've been together for quite some time," Bennett said. "That part won't change. It's just different responsibilities for different people. But Mike is still involved in all of that." 

Whereas some head coaches do everything in their power to keep assistants from leaving, McCarthy -- like former Packers coach Mike Holmgren, and Holmgren's Hall of Fame mentor, Bill Walsh -- actively endeavors to expand his coaching tree. Though his former offensive coordinator, Joe Philbin, got the Miami Dolphins' head-coaching job following the 2011 season, and ex-Green Bay quarterbacks coach Ben McAdoo was hired as the New York Giants' offensive coordinator two years later, McCarthy has privately bristled when assistants like Clements and Bennett haven't even been considered for other openings. 

"I don't get that," McCarthy said, his voice rising. "I mean, am I doing something wrong? We've got some great coaches on this staff. I just don't get it." 

Said Bennett: "He's commented on [assistants not getting looked at for other jobs] recently, to us. Now he's giving us an opportunity to continue to grow and develop, and you've got to give him credit. It kind of says something about the man. X's and O's, that's one thing, but the more important thing is the bond that we build. Guys on this staff genuinely care about him, not only as a coach but as a man. It's like an extended family." 

Family is not something McCarthy takes for granted. He and Jessica each have children from previous marriages, and their decision six years ago to devote their charitable energies to the American Family Children's Hospital was hardly coincidental. "We were looking to do something as a family, obviously being newly married and having young kids," Mike McCarthy said. "We felt like we wanted to give back, and obviously children was the focus. And once we saw how remarkable the facility was, how it's geared toward families, we knew this was right for us." 

The night before the golf tournament, after a silent auction and dinner in a banquet room just off the shore of Lake Monona, McCarthy proudly introduced his family to a large gathering of supporters and contributors: His 23-year-old daughter Alex, who graduated from Kansas and is now exploring writing and acting opportunities; sons Jack (14) and George (12); and daughters Gabrielle (6) and Isabella (5).

"I have a demanding job, but when you come home, it's a whole different world," McCarthy said the next morning. "The kids are just ... it's awesome. Watching the boys do so great in sports, and seeing the girls show so much creativity ... and when Alex is here, it's really complete. She has a tremendous relationship with all her siblings; it's pretty neat. Blended families, they're a challenge. You don't really know what you're getting into, and ours has just come together, and I couldn't be happier. You'd never know, unless someone told you." 

In his speech at the banquet hall, McCarthy said of George, "He changes his clothes four or five times a day." This is quite a contrast from his far-less-fashion-conscious big brother. "And then there's Jack -- I have to remind him to change his socks every day," Jessica said, laughing. 

Like many brothers who are near one another in age, Jack and George are close, competitive and sometimes combative. 

"We teach them, 'Fight hard, love harder,' " McCarthy said, laughing. "George, who's the younger one, doesn't back down. He tells me, 'If I can just withstand the first 30 seconds, I can get him.' That's how much they fight -- he has a game plan!" 

McCarthy understands the brotherly bond, though he faced fewer physical challenges back in the day. Because Joe McCarthy was four years younger than Mike, and less physically imposing, he was less motivated to scrap -- but he held his own in other areas. 

"He was younger, but he was easy," Mike recalled. "He was a really good athlete, so you took him everywhere as your little brother. He played in all the pickup games ... He always played up, from T-shirt league to little league and beyond. And he was so intelligent." 

A former state deputy attorney general, Joe had his own law practice and was an adjunct professor at CCAC Allegheny Campus. 

"He was a lawyer, and frankly, I think he was at the point of his life he was kinda bored with the law," Mike said. "He wanted to do bigger and better things. And those were things him and I talked about doing after I was done coaching. But when are you ever done?"

When McCarthy got the call informing him of his brother's sudden passing, he quickly headed home. 

"The minute I saw him, I knew something had happened," Jessica said. "It's just so hard. It shows you how important family is ... the support we have for each other." 

Five days later, at Joe's funeral, McCarthy was the last of four speakers to approach the podium and share his memories. 

"To be honest, I didn't know if he really should," Jessica said. "His brother was his hero. It was really hard on him. But he was amazing. He made us laugh. He made us smile. He did a beautiful job."

Said Mike: "I did better than I thought I would ... it was emotional. It just numbs you. I just feel so bad for his wife and kids and my parents. Nature threw my parents a curveball. You're not supposed to bury your children." 

McCarthy was heartened by the outpouring of support he received, both from the larger NFL community (the Steelers sent a delegation to Joe McCarthy's service that included coach Mike Tomlin and general manager Kevin Colbert) and the Packers' organization. Bennett was one of numerous Packers employees to fly to Pittsburgh to attend the wake, and Rodgers -- while accepting his second MVP award at the NFL Honors event the night before Super Bowl XLIX -- nearly broke down when he spotted his coach in the crowd. 

"I was in my speech for MVP and I saw him and I got choked up," Rodgers recalled. " 'Cause I have so much love for him and knew that he was going through some stuff, because of how close he and his brother were. That was hard. We're a family in Green Bay. A few years back, Joe Philbin lost a son, and the majority of us went to the funeral. I remember how difficult that was. It's tough to see a loved one go through that. And it was the same thing with Mike." 

McCarthy, like many grieving adults, threw himself back into his work, beginning with the decision to give up his play-calling duties and give Clements, Bennett and Van Pelt (among other assistants) increased responsibilities. It took him several months to resume any semblance of a normal sleeping routine. "You feel like you'll never catch up [on sleep]," he said. "This is the most change I've ever had at work. So the offseason, just from a pure work standpoint, this has been my biggest challenge." 

Family time, as always, has provided McCarthy -- described by his wife as "a big teddy bear ... a family man through and through" -- with the peace and perspective he needs to persevere. And his responsibilities as an uncle have become even more meaningful, and more cherished. In April, he and Joe's middle child, Michael, then a University of Kentucky freshman, attended the Final Four in Indianapolis. And Michael's older brother, Matt, who plays club baseball at Penn State, spent the summer pitching for the Green Bay Bullfrogs, a collegiate summer-league baseball team, and living at aunt and uncle's house. "We're so proud of him," Jessica said of Matt. "It's been so nice having him here this summer, though he's not home a lot -- they [had] 72 games in 74 days!" 

Come autumn, Uncle Mike's games will once again be the focus, and the Packers, who've made the playoffs in each of the past six seasons and have won four consecutive NFC North crowns, once again figure to be in the postseason mix. McCarthy's rallying cry is to hit the ground running, given that the Packers have lost two of their first four games in each of the last three years. 

"We've gotta start the season better," he said. "That's really where I'm focused on. We've been a 2-2 football team the last three years -- and that's not cutting it." 

Sundays, at least early on, will be an adjustment. Said McCarthy: "Ron Zook tells me all the time, 'You're gonna really enjoy the games more, as a head coach ... because you'll see everything, and you'll be involved in everything ...' He says, 'Trust me, you'll have a lot more fun.' " 

McCarthy will have to take Zook's word for it; calling plays, after all, was perhaps his favorite part of being a head coach, and he did not make the decision to give that up without considering the collateral damage. 

"I mean, it was a win for everybody," he said. "The one guy I was worried about was myself." 

Rodgers, too, believes the changes are "a good thing for everybody" -- and as he flashes ahead to the strategic conversations he and Clements will be having on game day, the quarterback fully expects McCarthy to suffer from a severe case of FOMO

"Well, he's definitely gonna be wanting to jump in," Rodgers said, laughing. 

A couple of minutes later, Rodgers took a deep breath and -- like everyone who knows McCarthy well -- became a bit choked up when talking about the loss the coach experienced last January, one that transcended the searing disappointment the Packers had experienced in Seattle three days earlier. 

"It's tough," Rodgers said softly. "But Mike's a fighter, and he'll get through it. He's got a great family around him. And sometimes stuff like this just galvanizes people." 

Michael Silver is a columnist for NFL Media. Follow him on Twitter @MikeSilver.


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