Why Ed McFly?

Ed, Ed Mc Fly.  That's just one of the many nicknames I've earned over the years.

One scorching summers day on the banks of Lake Holly, located in good ol' Sparta, Virginia I was dubbed "Ed" by the infamous Kenny Jones.  At the time, I was part of the U.S. Junior Olympic Team and was spending the week at Lake Holly training with my teammates.  On the final day of training we had a tournament.

My step-father Doug, for whatever reason has an obsessive compulsive need to label any and every piece of sporting equipment everyone in the family owns; despite the fact that we all know what equipment belongs to whom.  He would write our names on pieces of masking tape and slap them onto our snow skiing poles, mind you we each had our own size, brand and color.  He would do the same thing to our snow skis even though we all had different types. So OF COURSE he HAD to label my slalom ski before I went to Virginia.  Obviously he thought I had no clue what my ski looked like, despite the fact that I had the only 63 inch pink & blue Kidder ski with double high boot wrap bindings and despite the fact that I had used it for 2 seasons.  The fact remained that I could have forgotten what it looked like.  So before I left, being a good Doougie, he went to Tru-Value to buy some of those REALLY gianormous, white sticky letters.  You know the kind you stick on a mailbox or a moving truck and spelled out the name "DEE" (Note:  For my first 21 years on planet Earth I was know as Dee or Dee-Dee, never ever was I called Diana....ick.)

The tournament began and I was up.  So I put my gloves on, buckled up my best, grabbed my handle and ski and walked down to the starting dock.  I dipped my ski in the water and pulled it out again, put it on the dock so I could squirt some dish detergent into my binding that was I could just slide my foot right in to the slippery wet binding.  When I looked down to slide my foot into the binding--my ski said "ED" instead of "DEE" I thought, "What the HELL?!*  I turned around to the sound of my teammates laughing their heads off and a heckling coach, Kenny Jones.  My coach thought it was a riot that HE, himself had rearranged the letters on my ski.  I didn't mind so much, it made me feel cool and Kenny Jones was really hot back then.  He was around 24.  Tall, tan, buff with curly blond hair and eyes as blue as the sea-I often wonder where Kenny is now?  Probably old, bald and selling tires somewhere.  So that's how I got the nickname Ed.  Now the last name...McFly.  That's a story for another day.
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