I was born with a lacrosse stick in my hand. No...seriously, my Mom swallowed it while she was pregnant with me. She worked for a traveling circus at the time. That is where she met my Father. My Father, “Luxurious Larry” as he was known by his fans, was famous in the sixties within the “big top” social web. My Dad spent his entire childhood around circus life (his Father was the head dung-sweeper for years) and he quickly developed a strong admiration for the trapeze artists. After all, they were ARTISTS! He loved their leotards, their show names, their magnificent hair gel, their incredible man moss known as mustaches, and their unmatchable flare for the dramatic. He immediately became consumed by the art of trapeze and trained endlessly to become the world most famous artist of all time. Nowadays, When people speak of artists...names like Michelangelo, Donitello, and Splinter may come to mind, but back in the sixties “Luxurious Larry” was synonymous with the word. Only one thing prevented him from being the best...his fear of heights. My Father was an amazing gymnast and would perform jaw dropping floor routines consisting of flips and twists that no one had ever seen at the time. What made his performance even more unique was that he always carried a trapeze handle that wasn’t attached to anything throughout his entire exercise to mimic the moves that he had seen his heroes do when he was just a kid. He was the main attraction at every city they set up in. When I was born my father tried everything to instill the love of trapeze and the rush of flying through the air within me. He did not want me to be afraid of heights like he was. I remember numerous occasions in which my hands were duck taped to the ceiling fan while wearing a fake mustache, cheap musk, and a one of my sister’s one piece bathing suits.

His plan backfired. I did not like the trapeze. I did however enjoy the circus life. In my teenage years, due to my late run in with puberty, I was fortunate enough to become an attraction for the circus...”Mini Mikey The World’s Tallest Midget”. I still remember the custom sign that they crafted for me, “Too small to be a man, too big to be a monkey.” Eventually I grew out of my role at the circus and decided to go out into the real world and try other things.

The day that I was fired from the circus I made the decision to run away from home and discover myself in the great unknown. So in the middle of the night I ran into the attic (We lived out of a car so when I say attic I actually mean roof rack) to pack my up my clothes and my Bow Flex when I stumbled upon my baby box. This box contained pictures and artifacts from my childhood that I hadn’t seen in years. As I sifted through my old lockets of hair and my first teeth I noticed the lacrosse stick that was surgically removed from me at birth was at the bottom of the box. I was shocked to find the stick in it’s condition. I mean really shocked! I’m talking borderline nauseous. My Father had replaced one of the broken shooting strings with my umbilical cord. I removed the stick from the box and held it in my hand. It felt so natural. This moment changed my life.

In honor of my Father’s passion for acrobatics I am the only lacrosse player to complete a front flip while carrying the ball in competitive play.

Well....that is me in a nutshell.

Oh yeah there is one more thing, I’m a liar.

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