The Turtle

Good morning! I am back from a brief southern trip ready to get back into a routine. I finished my last two courses last week and have a month off to prepare for a late August class starts. Until then, I have a vacation notice on my email and try not to look at the messages...yet....it's hard not to stop...



And so, how is the big kid? Well, he was taken out of his last game in the third inning. He could not throw harder than 80, flat, and the ball was hit as if the batter had magical hitting powers. At first, he was salty, then he got over it fairly fast....why the change in attitude? Why was the turn around so rapid? Could it be maturity? Could it be that he now knows that he is human and as such will make mistakes?

OR.....could it be that he is in love?

Yep, that's what I said....he is now in a 'relationship' with a local Illinois girl who he met in the parking lot after a game....that's where you find love, gang....in the stadium parking lots, so keep your eyes open. When I look around the stadium parking lots, I see the overweight guys who are drinking their 6 packs and throwing a football as if they were 18 knowing that they would go home and take a hot shower and two Advil for the joint pain. Yep, that's cool....if I am ever looking, I will be sure to check out the tail gates.



By the way, I found out about this 'relationship' on Facebook when our new friend outed him.

As I saw the post, I quickly texted him and asked him if he had something to tell me....sheesh....a mom has to find this out on facebook? Do I care? Uh, sort of....after all, he could have mentioned it to me in a casual manner. He's twenty two, so this is pretty normal, right?

Oye, after chewing him out on the phone for a few minutes about finding out about his friend on Facebook, sofa in the old apartment,  internship not completed, no place to live in the fall, and yoga on the schedule, we had a "come to momma" chat in which I specifically gave him one week to clean up his mess and act or I unleash the beast.....

It was a nice chat, so we are on the same page (so to speak).....don't get me started.....

He did have a funny story to share as he commented on how the new coach was hired....it seems that the bench coach was once the mascot. Yep, he was sort of promoted internally. Last year, he was Speedy the Turtle. This year, he is the bench coach.

How did this promotion occur? Well, last year, Speedy lost his job as the beloved mascot when he punched a fan in the face. This action was not in his job description. Anyway, after a few months of unemployment, he got the job of bench coach.

When asked what his baseball background was, he replied that he was the team manager in high school. That's right, folks, he kept the statistics book and lined the field before games. Now, may I rant? Please???

Ok, here goes.....

My division 1 left handed pitching son who throws 90's was sent to the midwest to play in a prospect league. The team is awful (last night, they had 6 errors which means that the guys gave the opposition 6 extra outs). The coach is a mascot...a turtle who has anger issues and punched out a fan (I only hope that she was not a senior citizen). He has had an "OK" summer as far as pitching is concerned. The apartment costs money....food money...car....transportation to and from...And he is being coached by a turtle....if I wasn't so peeved, I would be laughing.....But folks, I do not make this up. I don't have the imagination.

And now, as the summer league comes to a close, the big guy is preparing to leave the turtle and his girl. What will happen? Lord knows...not me....actually, I prefer to be left in the dark. I don't want to see the future, 'cause if I saw what was going on this summer, I would probably need treatment for an ulcer.

Now it is time to head to yoga class. I need it....bad....

Namaste!

Leave it outside!

Good morning...it's beginning to simmer in the northeast.....lots of humidity too....but before we begin....

My thoughts and prayers are with the people of Oklahoma.

With that said, anything that happens in the great northeast as far as heat and humidity are concerned are not important. So what, it's hot....but I still have my home and family intact. Therefore, no complaining about anything....

Last night was an important in the life of the young leftie. His adult league was playing at a local field and he was tapped in to provide relief. "Why am I a leftie specialist when I want to start?" Oh, complaints, complaints, and some diva behaviors.

Why indeed? Well, Sport, here we go....you need to throw. Who cares if it is in the first or third inning? The ball is the ball...the catcher's mitt is the catcher's mitt and you need to throw.....And here we go.....

The field was a typical one that you see the kids play on during little league and legion games. The grass was not cut, the mound was low, the advertisements were from local vendors. In other words...it was pure baseball.

Dad and I snuck into the game without paying....actually, there were stands near the outfield with grass and dirt on them from when the landscapers weed-wacked. There were no tickets, hot dogs, or music. It was a field, bleachers, and a few spectators, and dogs (not the kind that you eat...the real ones). Buddy plays on a team called the "Irish"....I suspect it has something to do with the local pub

as its sponsor.

It was like the old days when we would have our bag chairs, bug repellent, and sun screen ready to go. No one inspected my bag or took away my kashi bar. No one noticed that we were there. The ten or so spectators were living in their own minds oblivious to what was going on.

Before the game, the big kid shared that he would pitch to one batter. "I'll throw five pitches....strike out..." "Why five? Aren't three pitches enough?" "Sure, but the guy will foul off two of them."

Gotcha...plans were made....5 pitches....bring it.....

Dad and I sit on the grassy bleachers....glad I did not wear anything light or new or even good....'cause I have a big grass stain on my bottom....back to the game....

The big guy is called to the mound and he runs out. No walk out music...no clapping...no scoreboard with his face and name spelled wrong on it. Just basic baseball with some tall leftie on the mound....he's nameless because there are no scorecards or magazines...just a big kid.....ready to throw five pitches, 'cause that's the plan.

Were there five pitches thrown? Uh, hmmmm...yeah....and a few more than five.....

OOps, what happened?

Well, the first batter was walked in four pitches. Ouch. Yeah, that's right...ouch. Man on first....

The second guy fouled off three bunt attempts before he popped it up to the mound and was out...

Uh, the next guy was walked....yeah....that's right....we like to have a little excitement in our lives. If everything was perfect then I would not know that my heart can take any kind of pressure in life....so as it beat 150 beats per minute.....

The next batter hit a pop up and the last batter a short dribble to the first base man.

Time to deep breathe...let the heart rate drop a bit....and sneak out of the ball park....I mean field....I mean park....

Off to home and waiting for the the angry big leftie to make an entrance....and angry he was.....

As he hummed and hawed, I heard some expletives from his room and had to comment. "Leave the nasty words on the field, park, uh outside....this house is a no cuss house....get it?"

The cussing stopped but there was still some banging...."Uh, leave it for your locker room. I don't want any holes in the walls....get it?"

The banging stopped...then I made my way to another room while he debriefed with his father. Thank goodness that his dad knows what to say....something patient-like: "Hey, knock it off...." Yeah...something like that....And so, after a few father son moments, peace and tranquility were restored at the home  plate. Plans were made and mom went off to read her latest Gillian Flynn novel...no baseball, fields, gloves, cursing and so on...just a story about a homeless woman who makes plans to marry a billionaire....the only problem is that she is already married to a guy named Billy who helps her to achieve her goal in order to extort millions from her new husband. That's all I know....a story about bigamy and meticulous planning.

Time to get down to business.....take care....