Clay Rice, Clay Fowler, Cassius Clay ... whatever

Prep-dog tried to send three e-mails to a fellow sportswriter named "Clay" today, but was unsuccessful. By the third, they started coming back, with the message stating the recipient was no longer accepting my e-mails.

I felt only slightly like a stalker until I realized I had used the wrong e-mail address. I meant to send my messages to scribe Clay Fowler, not Clay Rice. Rice was a guy I worked with a long time ago at the Burlingame Recreation Delapartment. Until Clay Fowler, he was the only Clay I had known.

This is still another chapter in the saga of our three new sports guys - T.J. Berka, J.P. Hoornstra and Clay Fowler. Berka has been mistakenly called J.P., P.J. etc. Hoornstra has been referred to as J.T., J.J. and every variation in between. Nobody had really been screwing up Clay Fowler until I started sending e-mails to Clay Rice.

That's the problem with being old. After a while, you have too many names rolling around in your brain. That's how I once confused San Gorgonio football coach Randy Stevens with Cajon basketball coach Randy Murray.

So Prep-dog wonders now, was I sending e-mails to my old buddy up in Burlingame imparting information on The Sun All-County basketball team? Or is it some other Clay Rice who thinks I'm a wacko and has had me blocked?

Anyway Clay Fowler, I don't need to talk to you anymore. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been too important.