Winners and Losers (edited)

The Field That Raised Me…

What are your favorite sports to watch and play?

Sports have always been a huge part of my life. They’ve been there for as long as I can remember. I come from a long line of athletes. My grandfather even had an opportunity to pitch for the Detroit Tigers, but he chose to serve in World War II instead. My father was a great athlete too, and he was also my coach growing up, teaching me the game—and a lot about life—along the way…

I love a lot of sports, but my two main ones are American football and baseball. I played Little League all through my childhood and into my teens. I didn’t just throw on a uniform and participate—I excelled. I was a star, haha. I’m normally pretty humble, but I want to be accurate here so you can feel what I’m putting down 😅 I was mainly a pitcher, but in between starts I played shortstop and left field, doing whatever my team needed… I also hit for power and average.

In little league.. I once made an insane diving catch in left field to win the game… the crowd went nuts… bum-rushed me and carried me off the field on their shoulders cheering haha…

Sports were where I learned who I was when things got hard…

I kept it going into junior high and high school, playing both baseball and football. On the football field I lined up at quarterback, wide receiver, and at cornerback on defense, and I excelled there too. The dream was always to try and go pro in baseball, but along the way I got pulled into the music scene and ended up chasing that route instead. Even then, I never really left sports behind. I kept playing, jumping into league softball over the years and staying connected to the game any way I could.

As far as watching sports, my heart stays close to home. I love the Atlanta Braves and Falcons, and when it comes to college football, I’m a huge Georgia fan—Go Dawgs. Major League Baseball, the NFL, and college football are my mainstays, but I also enjoy basketball and golf, both playing and watching. Sports have always been more than just games to me. I’m thankful I grew up the way I did, grateful for the chance to play, I miss them days…

…….⚾🏈→🧠→💪→⛈️→†→’…….o8o→||→{me}→~⛈~→|†|→’ …….⚾🏈…….“`💥→🧱→|†|→’…….⚾+🏈→|me|→⛈️→’

My first year in little league… im holding the bat wrong in this pic.. my hands are opposite how they should be lol

1 Corinthians 9:24–26 (NIV)

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize… Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever…

© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

`’.,°~

Almost

Two Lottery Stories

What would you do if you won the lottery?

I’ve got two lottery stories. Here’s the first—one that’s stuck with me for years.

Back when I used to work delivering top-grade fruits and vegetables to restaurants all over Atlanta, one of the guys I worked with told me this story about his aunt and uncle up in Michigan. They were the kind of folks who played the lottery religiously—same numbers every week, knew them by heart. His uncle worked construction, his aunt stayed home.

One day, the uncle was on the job, radio on in the background, when the lottery numbers came up. One by one, he heard them read off… and they were his numbers. Every single one. He stood there frozen, trying to grasp it—he was a millionaire, just like that. He felt like Jed Clampett, like George Jefferson—about to “move on up,” as they say. He couldn’t believe it—after all that time, the numbers finally hit.

Trembling, he grabbed his phone and called home. His wife answered. He could barely get the words out—“Honey, we won. We won!” You can imagine that rush of joy, disbelief, tears, laughter—the whole spectrum of emotions hitting at once.

When they finally calmed down, he asked her, “Where’s the ticket?”

Silence.

She didn’t know. Couldn’t remember. They searched every corner of that house—you name it: drawers, kitchen counters, coat pockets, even the trash—but the ticket was gone.

Never turned up.

It was a multimillion jackpot—ten million or more, my coworker said. They never recovered from it. They ended up divorcing. He drank himself into an early grave; she lost her mind and eventually wound up in a mental hospital.

I’ll never forget that story. They were just one missing ticket away from a whole new life. Makes you realize how thin the line is between winning big and losing everything…

The second story’s a little different—it’s about the strange brush I had with the lottery once.

I don’t normally play. Honestly, it had probably been ten years since the last time I bought a ticket. But one day, these numbers just popped into my head out of nowhere. They felt… random, but not really. So I scribbled them down and thought, why not? Maybe I’m supposed to play these.

That evening, I bought a ticket for the Fantasy Five drawing. Later that night, I sat down in front of the TV, ticket in hand, heart doing that nervous little dance while I waited for the numbers to roll out.

The first one—bam. I had it.
The second—got it.
The third—hit again.
The fourth—yes! Four in a row.

Now it all came down to the last number. If it hit, I’d be holding a ticket worth half a million dollars. I was right there on the edge of my seat, waiting… the winning number flashed on the screen—29.

I looked down. Mine said 30.

Missed it by one digit. Just one.

Still, four out of five wasn’t bad—I got a hundred bucks out of it. Not life-changing, but it sure made for a good story.

Funny how luck works, isn’t it? One number can mean the difference between a payday and just another story before bed…

So I guess if there’s any moral here, it’s this—don’t store your hopes and dreams in things that can be lost…
store them where they’re eternal —
that’s where the true jackpot is waiting…

As for me… I don’t believe in luck or chance.

…….🚫💰🏃‍♂️🌍…⏳🕯️…👋🪦🚫🧳…🚘⚰️🚫🧳🧺…✅💎⬆️☁️✝️…♾️✨…….—/—$→🌍…⏳…→∅…⚰→∅…→↑†…∞’…….🚫$→🌍…⏳…⚰️→🚫🧳…“no hearse w/ luggage rack”.🤷‍♂️..↑†☁️…💎→♾️’…….—/—$→🌍…⏳🕯️…⚰️→∅…↑†☁️…💎♾️…….<3†’

Matthew 13:44 (NIV)
“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field…”

© 2026 bryanforchrist. All rights reserved.

`’.,°~                          …..t

Little Grown-Ups…

my life as a Gen X kid…

This song has the “F” word in it… only once… in one line… so you may not want to listen… if it may offend you… 👇

I was born in September of  73`… a Gen X kid…
when I look back now… I realize things…


Yeah maybe I was doing stuff early on that probably could have waited until I was an adult…


but life was different back then…


the world was wider… lighter… rawer… simpler… all at once…


And us kids…


we were all little grown-ups…

From the time I was about eight until I was fourteen…


life couldn’t have been much better…


I grew up in a fairly large community of side by side houses… side by side families…
where everybody knew everybody…
neighbors didn’t just nod — they shared life…
they borrowed sugar…
they brought each other meals…
they sat in yards and talked about real things…
hearts… stories… struggles… faith… loss… laughter…


It wasn’t perfect —
but man… it was real…

My great-grandfather lived with us in those days…


he was one of a kind…


old as dirt… tougher than leather… stubborn as wet cement…


he had lived much…
And he never ran out of stories…


He’d sit outside every day… in this beat up old folding chair…


And half the time.. I’d pull another chair beside him… and just listen…


He was a war veteran — A Purple Heart… other medals he earned through blood and grit…


Infantry…
France…
WW2…


he’d tell me stories of laughing under fire… marching… waiting… freezing… fighting… barely surviving…


And I’d pepper him with a thousand questions… because I couldn’t get enough…

Later.. I found out from my grandmother…
that he had taken many lives in battle…
those stories… he never told…
those belonged to him… and God alone…


What I did see…
was a man who had walked through hell…


And somehow came back kinder…
tougher…


And still able to laugh a little…
And love a lot…


And without making speeches…
without preaching a word…


he was shaping the boy sitting beside him…

In those days…
my parents worked…


so most times I had to fend for myself…


I had a house key… freedom… responsibility…


but there were rules…


Do the right thing when nobody is watching…


Be  about character…
Be about integrity…

Be about it…

Be a decent human being…


And oh yeah…
be home by dark…

On the edge of our community…
the world exploded into a massive forest
deep woods stretching for miles…
thousands of acres…
trees… creeks… hidden lakes… trails… wildlife…


a giant playground for kids who hadn’t yet learned to be afraid of living…


I spent countless days exploring those woods…


fishing…
riding dirt bikes…
shooting guns…


no supervision… no phones… just trust…


Sometimes on Saturdays I’d wake up before the sun…
pack myself a sack lunch and some drinks…
grab my fishing poles and tackle box…
strap it all to the back of my dirt bike…
And disappear into the woods…

All… day… long…


Sometimes friends came along…
sometimes it was just me and the world —
And honestly… those were some of the best days…


Many mornings my great-grandfather would stop me before I left…
hand me his old .22 pistol in a worn leather holster…
And tell me to take it “for protection”…
because us kids needed guns back then haha…
we learned early… how to treat and respect a firearm…
it was a great privilege… responsibility… And it was ours…

I’d strap it to my waist like a cowboy…
fire up that dirt bike…
And ride off into the blue…


Freedom…
Adventure…
Responsibility…
Trust…

A childhood that felt like life training…


And I am grateful… deeply grateful…


Those years shaped me…
they toughened me…
they softened me…
they taught me courage… solitude… resourcefulness… respect… curiosity… wonder… independence…

I didn’t know it then…


but those were Holy days…


And I am thankful I grew up when I did…


in a world… full… of little grown-ups…

`’x.~¡-^;‐

Also… my great-grandfather’s middle name and mine… are the same… Loia… pronounced Loy like Joy…

I forgot to mention my dog… Buck… he was there too… he didn’t live inside a fence… he never knew a leash… he was free to roam… just like me… he followed me everywhere… he loved to swim… while I fished…

I’m the blood on your guitar… I’m that wave You caught back in 1975…

© Bryan H. 2025 — All Rights Reserved

`’.,°~

Late Night Confession `.•~

Tell us about your first day at something…

This is about a first day — just not the kind most people mean…

“I lost my innocence early in life… and I continued down that road for many years…
It was nobody’s fault… life will just show up on you…
Some lessons are hard learned in repetition…
And actually… I believe I’m thankful for it…
because it taught me… with beauty… just how special things can be…
differences… in what happens… and what is supposed…”

…¹4³….~[]~→†→/\/\/→| |→~…~→→→’….._::_→\_/→—-→/→/→/→’….< >→←| |→~~’ `.•~ 🏍-¡- -¡°…`

© Bryan H. 2025 — All Rights Reserved