Sunday, April 29, 2012

Jack Daniels or HiC: Choose Your Poison

No baby yet! If wishing for labor and delivery was all that it took, our little one would be here by now. But if walking, exercising, and eating Mexican and Italian foods have not induced labor, then we are being taught to be patient. So, time to cool it.

We heard from the big leftie yesterday who reported a new brawl on Friday night with the umpire squeezing LW who proceeded to give up three runs as the good guys lost the game. The coach was thrown out for a number of inappropriate expletives as he let the umpires know in any way that he could that they were not qualified to umpire the game. Furthermore, he was then tossed from the game where he waited not so patiently in the locker room. Dude, where will you sit? Remember, you took the sofas, chairs, speakers, WIFI and television out to punish the guys for poor play? I guess that you will have to sit on a bench and wait out the rest of the game.

When Buddy and Angel returned home from the game, LW was sitting on the sofa (yep, the one that I am never going to sit on again) drinking Jack Daniel's straight up. Hmmmm....this is how he copes with a loss. My poison of preference was ice cream. I'd sit on the sofa with a large spoon and a container of ice cream  brooding about the line calls during my loss on the tennis court. NOT! Come one.....to be a competitor, a person has to learn to accept defeat without the assistance of  illicit substances such as drugs and alcohol. If this happens when you lose a baseball game, what is going to happen when something really tragic happens? Where are the coping skills? He must know that the next day, he is going to feel and look like poo. So, what's the point? Furthermore, if he wants to poison himself, he should drink Hi C straight without ice....from the can....grape flavored...talk about something that is not good for you.

Now, yesterday's game was another story. The coach from the opposing team was thrown out after a questionable call at the plate. Not wanting to be the only coach in the weekend series to listen to the game from the locker room, he also had some threats and salty language for the umpires. As he exited to the locker room, he looked at Buddy's bullpen, smiled, and told them to have a nice day. Hmmm, this guy shook off the bad call rather quickly. I doubt if he was sitting in the locker room with a bottle of JD muttering to himself how unfair life is. My thought is that he went back to the buffet table and made a sandwich.

Today is the last game of the weekend series. So much drama....who will be tossed out? Who will be fighting? Will there be a brawl? Buddy felt that the benches were going to empty today and that he would not be in the middle of it. No throwing punches for my kid, but he could be heard throwing not-so-nice compliments toward the opposition at any point. In fact, along with another pitcher, he was pointed to by one of the umpires on Friday night demanding that they keep their mouths shut since they were chortling from the bench. Sigh...glad I was home for this one. Although, he reassured me that if a fight broke out, he would be on the field but away from the fracas because his arm is not ready to throw a fast ball or a punch. Comforting....

No partying last night or Friday night for the big kid. In fact, he was in the library studying for finals this week. Yes, studying. In the library....there are books there, you know. I'm proud of the little guy. He is opening his books, notes, and reading. He is struggling a bit with Finance, so one of the players told him that he had to think differently. Good point. What does different mean? Perhaps, thinking in a logical manner is appropriate. Dad knows finance and business, and Buddy comes from a line of entrepreneurs on his father's side...from my side, no business people, per se unless you count a paper route or selling our TastyKakes at lunch in elementary school for twice the value. Then all you need to know is how to make change. If I was a betting person (which I am not because I always lose), I would put my money on the leftie betting that he will get through finance and the other courses unscathed with grade point average intact.

Time for me to head to the pool to continue rehabbing this crazy knee. One day it feels great and the next day it is screaming at me saying: "Slow down, BPM, you're killin' me...." I will share this, I will be back on the tennis court by mid May. It's my goal and with the Tank's help, some Motrin, ice and a knee brace, I will have the racquet in my hand slicing and dicing the balls....and when I lose the match, you will not catch me on the sofa with a bottle of Jack Daniels, rather I will be on the patio, under the umbrella sipping a Merlot, and thinking how I can tinker with my game to be more successful.

Have a great day! Go Buttercup!

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