Usually during a weekend, I am all over the place.

On a normal fall Friday night, I’m usually anywhere in a two-hour radius covering a football game whether play-by-play broadcast on a Starved Rock Media channel, writing for The Amboy News or The Mendota Reporter, or to get visuals and audio quotes for the Edge of Your Seat Podcast.

Saturday and Sunday usually mean, I’m at a baseball, softball, volleyball, or basketball tournament officiating games/matches.

There are also family events, friend interactions, and a little video game playing.

This past weekend, I can sum up my weekend in one word…Amboy.

It started Friday when I talked to five people for five different stories seen in this edition of the paper and future copies.

Saturday, I covered the Amboy-LaMoille-Ohio football team’s Illinois 8-Man Football Association first round playoff game against West Central (See page A11 for the story).

I am very appreciative of the fact I get to talk to coach Scott Payne every Monday morning when I’m not able to attend Clipper games to get a story and know everything going on with the team.

But as an active journalist, I love being on the sideline with a front row view of all the action.

It’s enjoyable to a sports fanatic like me to mingle with the players, coaches, officials, photographers, fans, athletic directors, principals, and everyone else associated.

In the last 20 years, there are very few IHSA football weekends I have not been a part of. I’d guess less than five.

Knowing I had another engagement in Amboy Saturday, I didn’t leave as soon as the game was over.

I have wanted to check out Uncle B’s Bar and Grill since it opened and haven’t had the chance. Although the establishment has nothing to do with me, I was first called Uncle B by my second of 11 nieces and nephews some 15 years ago and now every one of them, their friends, and my friend’s children call me, Uncle B. I like to say I’m the mafia uncle (it’s a joke, I don’t have any ties).

So, it was only fitting I go to the bar and grill.

The service was good and the food was decent. There were about four or five menu items I wanted to try. This means, I’ll be back (in my worst Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonation).

After an hour, I was at the Amboy Community Building for the retirement party of former Amboy Fire Chief, Jeff Bryant Sr.

I remember the first time I spoke to Bryant Sr. over the phone about three years ago. It was not a happy or friendly phone call as he was calling to find out where I had found out false information and why I reported it.

After we both said our side, we made peace.

Since then, our rapport has been amazing and when he called me to tell me he was retiring, I was happy for him because he has served on the Amboy Fire Protection District for 36 years, but I was sad that I won’t get to work with him at all or as much as we have over the last 36 months.

He’s an intelligent, motivated man and I know he isn’t truly retiring. Plus, everyone I know who is retired is busier now than they were before.

On Sunday, I was back at Amboy High School for the fall play, “The Play That Goes Wrong”.

On the program, the G at the end of wrong is backward, but my work computer wouldn’t let me make it happen.

Anyway, the play was great.

I felt bad because I couldn’t give it 100-percent of my attention as phone notifications continuously went going off, but the student performers had me laughing almost the entirety of the show.

In a performance I know was tricky to nail the timing, the cast and crew had the ultimate hammer when I saw the play on Sunday. I was definitely glad I went.

Following the play, there was one more interview for a story planned for the November 13 edition of The Amboy News.

I’m not from Amboy and before I began as a journalist and then an editor for The Amboy News, I had only stopped in Amboy a few times.

I wish I had gotten to know the community and its people before because I’m happy to be in Amboy anytime whether it’s to chat, watch a game, honor the deserving, or catch a show.

I’ll be back (in my voice) …real soon.