It's Sunday morning and I have an hour before I have to place some dynamite under Buddy's bed to arouse him. We are going to mass then lunch at our favorite Mexican restaurant. Sadly, this is the only place that we like here. We tried every single pizza place and none of them compare to the pies in our neighborhood. Last night after I picked him up at the drop off, I thought that I was treating him to an all-you-can-eat pizza and salad buffet. In my mind, this was the perfect place for him as he decompressed from his long trip and time on the bench. After sitting in a booth, we bit into the pizza, got up and left....it was so bad. The search continues....what did I expect? The buffet cost $4.99.....we certainly are not in Atlantic City at the Borgota! My advice is...if it seems to be too good...it's not...a $4.99 all-you-can-eat buffet will be loaded with inedible food. Take our word for it.
So, now you know...he went to the game yesterday and sat on the bench again. To make the most of it, he continued to work out with his bullpen buddies as they perfect their own games. They make a game of ignoring Stinky and have now reconciled that the summer did not pan out as it was promised. Buddy is not the only pitcher who is not being given enough innings. More than half of the guys sit in the bullpen rotting away as they spend the game sleeping and texting their friends. Buddy has been my texting friend as I sit in the stands and watch the game. We chat about a number of random things from Libido's kid as he strikes out to Rat Boy and what we are having for dinner. There is nothing he can do except continue to push for innings, a start, or an opportunity to play. The coach seems oblivious to him. Sparky seems to be more concerned with the way his Pepsi's are placed in the cooler before the game. By the way, during the All Star break, the coach mandated that the guys who are not in the game have to paint the dugouts.....OK..wait a second....deep breath....here I go (see next paragraph).
PAINT THE DUG OUTS!!! Is he kidding? It must be a joke...really...a joke. Let's review...."you are cordially invited to play for ______ a prestigious collegiate baseball league in the heart of the Midwest. You will be given the opportunity to play in a competitive league and hone your skills..." The team promised development, work outs, a job, nightly meals, and a place to stay. By the way, there is a large fee to play on this team, but the money will come back to each player in the form of uniforms (they have to give them back....Buddy's is missing buttons), training, coaching, and travel. The players have been following directions and showing up at kiddie baseball camps, autograph and photo sessions, parades, and so on. Now they want to use them as manual labor and paint the dugouts and stadium. Not on my watch....u-uh...no way, Jose....not in my lifetime....over my dead and lifeless body...
We are going home for the break and staying for 6 days. He will miss a game that he would not have played in anyway. He mentioned this to Stinky who immediately got upset. Hmmm...there are 16 pitchers. Buddy and 10 of them do not play regularly. If he misses one game, they won't notice (or is it because he won't be painting?). Actually, they do not notice when he is there except Sparky's Pepsi's would not be in the right alignment. Perhaps Buddy can delegate the Pepsi delivery to a starting pitcher. It does not take a rocket scientist to line them up per the coach's desire. He could create a diagram with pictures of Pepsi (not Coke) and post it in the dugout. Now that the soda issue has been resolved, we plan to leave at dawn on Wednesday, point the car east and not stop until we find some edible pizza. It will take about 8 hours, but we don't care...the pizza from last night is still sitting in a big wad of dough in my stomach and will still be sitting there until the end of the month.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Being liked is not what this is about....
It was an early morning as I dropped my favorite baseball player off at a mall 30 minutes away to catch the van to drive to the afternoon game three hours west of the apartment....follow that one? He was a bit 'salty' as I had to wake him. In the old days, he would have been up, ate breakfast, and had his bag packed on his own. Today, however, he needed some parental push to get out of bed. With that said, he was the first player at the drop off point and he had to wait for the rest of the team.
Last night's game had me figuratively floating to my happy place. As I sat in the stands, my mind and spirit wandered to the place that always makes me smile. I can't share that place 'cause it is my happy place. I will share anything else that I own or imagine except my happy place....it's mine....if people knew where it was, then they would drop in and mess the place up or rearrange the furniture and mojo....I have a sign on my happy place door...no trespassing...People are always welcome at my not-so-happy place and anywhere else....stop by when I am not in my happy place....
Enough of that....last night as the mind wandered to wonderful places, the pitcher, another local legend, was tremendous as he had a no hitter going until the 7th inning. Then he gave up a hit to end it. However, he went deep into the 9th inning before he was replaced on the mound. Buddy was not the pitcher of choice, so he sat in his bullpen with his boys....sleeping, creating you tube exercise videos, and complaining about da man....they always complain about Sparky and Stinky Pete. This is nothing new.
As he put his gear in the car last night, he said something odd to me. "They don't like me." Huh? What? Not like you? What is there not to like? You arrive early, work hard, are a great player, reliable, witty, mend the pitcher's mound each night, get the water for the dugout and arrange the Pepsi's in the cooler as the coach likes them (three on the bottom...ice....three more....more ice....) This idea that he has that the coaches do not like him seems a bit overly sensitive and possibly absurd. So, tell me more...what makes you think that coaches don't like you? He replied: "I can tell by the way that they ignore me and treat some of the other guys...They are nicer to them and play them more even though they are not as good..."
OK, at first, I thought that he was tired, cranky, or looking for an excuse for lack of playing time. Then I reflected on my own life and I can tell when someone does not like me. Some people are not very good at hiding their disdain. For example, in graduate school I had an instructor who I did not understand at all. Her directions were wacky as was her teaching style. My classmates and I would often comment that we needed a very long happy hour after her classes because she stressed us out. I once asked her a question and she replied that I was too esoteric and could not figure it out. Hmmm....esoteric...me? First, I had to look the word up in the dictionary, because I did not know what it meant. Guess what? I am not esoteric...far from it....so our relationship went on a downward spiral.
One day she told me that she wanted me to move my seat. From the first day of class, we all sat in the same seats, but she wanted me to move mine. This seat was in the third row in the middle. I sat next to my group partner, a religious nun. We were NOT disruptive...she was a nun, for God's sake!!! Anyway, I refused to move. Before the next class, the professor placed her books on my chair before I entered the room. This was weird. She did not want any other student in the class to change...just me. Guess what I did? Yep, I moved the books. She was not pleased and told me so. Her comment was that she put the books on the chair so that I would have to move. I looked at Sister, my partner and said..."what did I do to this woman to incur her wrath?" Sister shrugged and opened her book (coward!). We continued to spar throughout the course until it was over...then I slammed her on the evaluation and earned my "A". I am sure that professor 'rod up her #%$@' needed to be sedated when she recorded a not-so-esoteric "A" on my report card.
So, I get it...Buddy feels that the coaches don't like him...it can and does happen. What can he do about it? Well, the season is more than halfway over. We are driving home during the All Star break for a week. Then he comes back to finish his stint in the bullpen. My only advice is to continue to work hard to achieve your personal goals. You will never be back on this team and you don't have to look back when you are gone. Also, it is important to know that not everyone can or will like us. If we please everyone, then we are not doing something right. Keep in mind, however, that you have made some terrific friendships with some great guys and you did reap something good from the experience. You became internally and mentally stronger. As Christina Aquilera sings in her song, "The Fighter", she thanks the people who were against her and this made her tougher and more determined. Use these words to become the man and player that you want to be...overcoming adversity through determination and grit....
'Cause if it wasn't for all
That you tried to do
I wouldn't know just how capable I am to pull through
So I wanna say thank you
'Cause it
Makes me that much stronger
Makes me work a little bit harder
Makes me that much wiser
So thanks for making me a fighter
Made me learn a little bit faster
Made my skin a little bit thicker
Makes me that much smarter
So thanks for making me a fighter
Never saw it coming
All of your backstabbing
Just so, you could cash in on a good thing
Before I'd realized your game
I heard you're going 'round
Playin' the victim now
But don't even begin feelin' I'm the one to blame
'Cause you dug your own grave
After all of the fights and the lies
Guess you're wanting to hurt me
But that won't work anymore
No more, uh uh, it's over
'Cause if it wasn't for all of your torture
I wouldn't know how to be this way now
And never back down
So I wanna say thank you
Last night's game had me figuratively floating to my happy place. As I sat in the stands, my mind and spirit wandered to the place that always makes me smile. I can't share that place 'cause it is my happy place. I will share anything else that I own or imagine except my happy place....it's mine....if people knew where it was, then they would drop in and mess the place up or rearrange the furniture and mojo....I have a sign on my happy place door...no trespassing...People are always welcome at my not-so-happy place and anywhere else....stop by when I am not in my happy place....
Enough of that....last night as the mind wandered to wonderful places, the pitcher, another local legend, was tremendous as he had a no hitter going until the 7th inning. Then he gave up a hit to end it. However, he went deep into the 9th inning before he was replaced on the mound. Buddy was not the pitcher of choice, so he sat in his bullpen with his boys....sleeping, creating you tube exercise videos, and complaining about da man....they always complain about Sparky and Stinky Pete. This is nothing new.
As he put his gear in the car last night, he said something odd to me. "They don't like me." Huh? What? Not like you? What is there not to like? You arrive early, work hard, are a great player, reliable, witty, mend the pitcher's mound each night, get the water for the dugout and arrange the Pepsi's in the cooler as the coach likes them (three on the bottom...ice....three more....more ice....) This idea that he has that the coaches do not like him seems a bit overly sensitive and possibly absurd. So, tell me more...what makes you think that coaches don't like you? He replied: "I can tell by the way that they ignore me and treat some of the other guys...They are nicer to them and play them more even though they are not as good..."
OK, at first, I thought that he was tired, cranky, or looking for an excuse for lack of playing time. Then I reflected on my own life and I can tell when someone does not like me. Some people are not very good at hiding their disdain. For example, in graduate school I had an instructor who I did not understand at all. Her directions were wacky as was her teaching style. My classmates and I would often comment that we needed a very long happy hour after her classes because she stressed us out. I once asked her a question and she replied that I was too esoteric and could not figure it out. Hmmm....esoteric...me? First, I had to look the word up in the dictionary, because I did not know what it meant. Guess what? I am not esoteric...far from it....so our relationship went on a downward spiral.
One day she told me that she wanted me to move my seat. From the first day of class, we all sat in the same seats, but she wanted me to move mine. This seat was in the third row in the middle. I sat next to my group partner, a religious nun. We were NOT disruptive...she was a nun, for God's sake!!! Anyway, I refused to move. Before the next class, the professor placed her books on my chair before I entered the room. This was weird. She did not want any other student in the class to change...just me. Guess what I did? Yep, I moved the books. She was not pleased and told me so. Her comment was that she put the books on the chair so that I would have to move. I looked at Sister, my partner and said..."what did I do to this woman to incur her wrath?" Sister shrugged and opened her book (coward!). We continued to spar throughout the course until it was over...then I slammed her on the evaluation and earned my "A". I am sure that professor 'rod up her #%$@' needed to be sedated when she recorded a not-so-esoteric "A" on my report card.
So, I get it...Buddy feels that the coaches don't like him...it can and does happen. What can he do about it? Well, the season is more than halfway over. We are driving home during the All Star break for a week. Then he comes back to finish his stint in the bullpen. My only advice is to continue to work hard to achieve your personal goals. You will never be back on this team and you don't have to look back when you are gone. Also, it is important to know that not everyone can or will like us. If we please everyone, then we are not doing something right. Keep in mind, however, that you have made some terrific friendships with some great guys and you did reap something good from the experience. You became internally and mentally stronger. As Christina Aquilera sings in her song, "The Fighter", she thanks the people who were against her and this made her tougher and more determined. Use these words to become the man and player that you want to be...overcoming adversity through determination and grit....
'Cause if it wasn't for all
That you tried to do
I wouldn't know just how capable I am to pull through
So I wanna say thank you
'Cause it
Makes me that much stronger
Makes me work a little bit harder
Makes me that much wiser
So thanks for making me a fighter
Made me learn a little bit faster
Made my skin a little bit thicker
Makes me that much smarter
So thanks for making me a fighter
Never saw it coming
All of your backstabbing
Just so, you could cash in on a good thing
Before I'd realized your game
I heard you're going 'round
Playin' the victim now
But don't even begin feelin' I'm the one to blame
'Cause you dug your own grave
After all of the fights and the lies
Guess you're wanting to hurt me
But that won't work anymore
No more, uh uh, it's over
'Cause if it wasn't for all of your torture
I wouldn't know how to be this way now
And never back down
So I wanna say thank you
Friday, July 8, 2011
Thunder, lightening, and a scuffle: A great night at the ball park
Good morning! Storms rolled through last night in more than one way. It thundered loudly and lightening struck throughout the region and at the ball park....more about that later...
I decided since Buddy was not going to play, I had the opportunity to sit and complete some work without interruption. He took the car and I had a number of projects that needed attention. It was hot and I was focused on my work when an exuberant bullpen pitcher burst into the room. The smile was so big that I had to look twice to see if it was my mostly sullen kid.....It seems that the game took on a gangsta' tone as the starting pitcher, The Stud was striking players out on command. He is a local kid and has the reputation of being difficult and not a team player. Yet, according to Buddy, this is not true. He is a great guy and super team mate, so he did not know how he earned this reputation.
Back to the game, Stud was on fire as they played the number one team in the region who generally dominates all teams. Yet, Stud was the man on the mound and did not leave any prisoners. As the game was moving along, both teams were yapping at one another cussin' and swearin' and frankly using words that I have never heard in church. Toward the end of the game, Stud walked to the dugout and the third base coach accidentally on purpose bumped into his shoulder....hmmm....nonverbal communication suggesting...let's rumble...
Stud was replaced by the closer, Mr. Domination who proceeded to strike out all three batters that he faced with a 96 mph fast ball...game over...rumble beginning as Mr D lifted his shirt up to demonstrate his flawless play....the other team DID NOT like this and the teams began to scuffle and continue the war of words....
My son, not wanting to miss the action, yet not someone who likes conflict stood back a bit and used his fresh mouth to fight rather than his fists (heaven forbid that he breaks that hand....). His bullpen friend pretended to hold him back as he verbally continued the assault...then an opposing player asked him if he wanted to go at it....Ooops...ah no man...it's just a stupid game, get over it. The peacemaker emerged and he backed off. Scuffle ended with Sparky yelling expletives at the other coach and players (again, he displays his leadership talents). No one was injured. No punches were actually thrown, but now the team has a great story and the war has united them more than the coaches could ever had without the melee.
My only question had been "Were any young kids watching the fight?" His response was "What do you think?" OY! I am sure that this moment in team history will live on in these young impressionable minds for a long, long time. I can picture my kid standing on the outside of the fight circle encouraging his team mates as he buzzes around the conflict...participating but not participating....not wanting to be hit nor hit anyone.....just having a good time doing what is perceived as "guy stuff".
By the way, The Stud, who is reputedly not considered a team player was in the middle of the fracas protecting his team mates. What does this tell you about reputations?
I decided since Buddy was not going to play, I had the opportunity to sit and complete some work without interruption. He took the car and I had a number of projects that needed attention. It was hot and I was focused on my work when an exuberant bullpen pitcher burst into the room. The smile was so big that I had to look twice to see if it was my mostly sullen kid.....It seems that the game took on a gangsta' tone as the starting pitcher, The Stud was striking players out on command. He is a local kid and has the reputation of being difficult and not a team player. Yet, according to Buddy, this is not true. He is a great guy and super team mate, so he did not know how he earned this reputation.
Back to the game, Stud was on fire as they played the number one team in the region who generally dominates all teams. Yet, Stud was the man on the mound and did not leave any prisoners. As the game was moving along, both teams were yapping at one another cussin' and swearin' and frankly using words that I have never heard in church. Toward the end of the game, Stud walked to the dugout and the third base coach accidentally on purpose bumped into his shoulder....hmmm....nonverbal communication suggesting...let's rumble...
Stud was replaced by the closer, Mr. Domination who proceeded to strike out all three batters that he faced with a 96 mph fast ball...game over...rumble beginning as Mr D lifted his shirt up to demonstrate his flawless play....the other team DID NOT like this and the teams began to scuffle and continue the war of words....
My son, not wanting to miss the action, yet not someone who likes conflict stood back a bit and used his fresh mouth to fight rather than his fists (heaven forbid that he breaks that hand....). His bullpen friend pretended to hold him back as he verbally continued the assault...then an opposing player asked him if he wanted to go at it....Ooops...ah no man...it's just a stupid game, get over it. The peacemaker emerged and he backed off. Scuffle ended with Sparky yelling expletives at the other coach and players (again, he displays his leadership talents). No one was injured. No punches were actually thrown, but now the team has a great story and the war has united them more than the coaches could ever had without the melee.
My only question had been "Were any young kids watching the fight?" His response was "What do you think?" OY! I am sure that this moment in team history will live on in these young impressionable minds for a long, long time. I can picture my kid standing on the outside of the fight circle encouraging his team mates as he buzzes around the conflict...participating but not participating....not wanting to be hit nor hit anyone.....just having a good time doing what is perceived as "guy stuff".
By the way, The Stud, who is reputedly not considered a team player was in the middle of the fracas protecting his team mates. What does this tell you about reputations?
Thursday, July 7, 2011
I can see clearly....
Back from Kentucky~! It is such a beautiful state with the rolling hills, horse farms, and interesting people. Sadly, it is also one of the poorest rural regions in the country as the economy has impacted the residents' ability to earn a living and access health care. I have a few suggestions for the government, but no one has asked me. Once again, do I have to run everything?
As I dropped the big kid off at the field, I had a chance to explore the area and found the beauty to be quite memorable. As the game approached, I pointed the car in the right direction and sat on my chair with my lucky sneakers on, ready for an interesting game.
And so it was...NOT! The opposing team was not up for the challenge and were crushed by Buddy's team, 10-1. And the answer to your question "did he play?" is 'yes.' After 7 innings, the team had a commanding lead and he entered the game. He struck the first player out, gave up a playable hit, struck out the next two batters. During the second inning, he went hit-less and scoreless with one strike out. Then he was taken out of the game for the "closer." Game over...let's go home.
On the two hour road trip home, we chatted about the shift in his demeanor and goals. He is no longer upset about the lack of playing time since he is basically exhausted. He has nothing to prove to the coaches. His revised goal is to pitch 20 innings with an ERA of less than 3.00. Sadly, his one bad outing at midnight after a long road trip and rain delay, started his ERA at 60+, so it has been a battle to lower it, especially when the coaches refuse to give him a chance to play. This is particular puzzling because Sparky took him out of the game last week after giving up an opening walk and cursed him off. In contrast, during yesterday's game, I watched the starting pitcher give up 6 walks in the first two innings and he was allowed to stay in and battle. Interesting contradiction....dichotomy....hypocrisy...whatever you want to call it.
Now, the team is counting off the days until the end. Only a few local players are enjoying the competition and games. The rest, like Buddy, are looking forward to returning home, then back to college. The All Star break is next week. It will be the first one in years that Buddy will not play in, yet, no one really cares. We are heading east for the break and going to enjoy family, friends, and home cooking. Maybe I can get Buddy to wash the windows like he was supposed to before he left for the summer. I can place the rags, ammonia, and bucket where his laptop would be while he is sleeping. When he wakes up and does not see his precious communication device, he may come to the conclusion that I mean business....windows...no laptop or car keys until I can see the backyard from the family room. I don't ask for much (OK, really I do), but all I want him to do this summer is to wash the windows....after a summer living in Ohio trying to achieve his dream, it is my dream to be able to view the trees and deer that run through the yard without streaky dirt blocking my view. Bullpen mom is going to morph back into "Baby, it's good to be home...now finish your chores..." Mom....Do you think that I was missed?
As I dropped the big kid off at the field, I had a chance to explore the area and found the beauty to be quite memorable. As the game approached, I pointed the car in the right direction and sat on my chair with my lucky sneakers on, ready for an interesting game.
And so it was...NOT! The opposing team was not up for the challenge and were crushed by Buddy's team, 10-1. And the answer to your question "did he play?" is 'yes.' After 7 innings, the team had a commanding lead and he entered the game. He struck the first player out, gave up a playable hit, struck out the next two batters. During the second inning, he went hit-less and scoreless with one strike out. Then he was taken out of the game for the "closer." Game over...let's go home.
On the two hour road trip home, we chatted about the shift in his demeanor and goals. He is no longer upset about the lack of playing time since he is basically exhausted. He has nothing to prove to the coaches. His revised goal is to pitch 20 innings with an ERA of less than 3.00. Sadly, his one bad outing at midnight after a long road trip and rain delay, started his ERA at 60+, so it has been a battle to lower it, especially when the coaches refuse to give him a chance to play. This is particular puzzling because Sparky took him out of the game last week after giving up an opening walk and cursed him off. In contrast, during yesterday's game, I watched the starting pitcher give up 6 walks in the first two innings and he was allowed to stay in and battle. Interesting contradiction....dichotomy....hypocrisy...whatever you want to call it.
Now, the team is counting off the days until the end. Only a few local players are enjoying the competition and games. The rest, like Buddy, are looking forward to returning home, then back to college. The All Star break is next week. It will be the first one in years that Buddy will not play in, yet, no one really cares. We are heading east for the break and going to enjoy family, friends, and home cooking. Maybe I can get Buddy to wash the windows like he was supposed to before he left for the summer. I can place the rags, ammonia, and bucket where his laptop would be while he is sleeping. When he wakes up and does not see his precious communication device, he may come to the conclusion that I mean business....windows...no laptop or car keys until I can see the backyard from the family room. I don't ask for much (OK, really I do), but all I want him to do this summer is to wash the windows....after a summer living in Ohio trying to achieve his dream, it is my dream to be able to view the trees and deer that run through the yard without streaky dirt blocking my view. Bullpen mom is going to morph back into "Baby, it's good to be home...now finish your chores..." Mom....Do you think that I was missed?
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
I don't understand...or maybe I do....
Another day in Ohio....another game is over....a new perspective has dawned....it no longer matters how, when, and if Buddy enters a game to pitch. He is going to work on his goals with his bullpen crew and disregard the coach. Looking back, he still can't figure out why the coach does not want to play him. Perhaps it is because the pitching coach was very upset initially when Buddy would not change his mechanics based on his suggestions.
Let's review....Buddy has been coached by major league baseball players. At 19, he has a great curve ball and fast ball that has begun to hit 90 mph. He had one of the best freshman ERAs in the country. The summer coach never played past high school and wants to change his toss based on his limited experience. Since Buddy would not change, he sits in the bullpen while I sit in the stands watching a train wreck of a team.
Even though his freshman year statistics were better than any other pitcher while playing in a tough conference, he remains puzzled by the attitude, disrespect and disregard. Fortunately, the bullpen has bonded and the guys are in this together. Currently, he is working out with another player as they tinker with the speed on their fast balls and create new pitches.
With that said, the bullpen guys enjoy each others company and have gotten very silly to stay sane. They scratch the number of games left on the fence in the bullpen as if they were incarcerated. They share odd stories ranging from players that they struck out to their girl friends. There is also rock tossing into a cup competition for points. A champion will be crowned at the end of the season. Last night, they started to create home made exercise videos on their cell phones and are posting them on Facebook and You Tube. The first topic was building arm strength by waving a bat one hundred times. Tonight, the pitchers will focus on core exercises in the bullpen. To say that they are bored would be an understatement....
At this point, Buddy is happy and progressing with his personal goals. This morning, he ran off to the Wednesday baseball camp for the inner city kids to deliver gum that he promised to a boy if he played hard last week. When the kid saw him, he shouted: "Where's my gum at?" Buddy handed him some BubbleTape and all is well. So, I see some personal growth.
As Buddy has reconciled the summer as part of a greater plan to build his perseverance, his dad has begun to show frustration and irritability (lovely....Buddy's emotions were finally under control, now I have to deal with the big guy). Last week's visit opened his eyes to a number of issues that Buddy and I have witnessed, complained about, but fell on deaf ears. Now dad is on the warpath and plans to come back to Ohio next week to have a showdown with the coach. The turning point for him was watching Buddy walk a player then give up a sacrifice bunt. He had one out and the coach walked out to the mound, screamed at Buddy and told him that he "sucked" and continued to insult him as he wondered aloud how he was able to play Division I baseball. He grabbed the ball, told him to get the &*$$ into the dugout and brought another pitcher out who threw a wild pitch then balked the winning run in....Buddy could do nothing but watch...dad was horrified.
And so, life in baseball continues uninterrupted by the drama. By its nature, it is competitive. Each person competes for time in the game and has their own set of goals. Without communication, players struggle to achieve the aforesaid goals. Yet, communication starts at the top as the coach should know and understand each player to get the best out of them. Unfortunately, this guy is interested only in his own personal goals and has misrepresented himself and the team to Buddy's college coaches. Next year, we will be much smarter as we interview the summer coach before making a commitment to move. This summer has been a learning experience for all of us. On to this afternoon's game in Kentucky....
Let's review....Buddy has been coached by major league baseball players. At 19, he has a great curve ball and fast ball that has begun to hit 90 mph. He had one of the best freshman ERAs in the country. The summer coach never played past high school and wants to change his toss based on his limited experience. Since Buddy would not change, he sits in the bullpen while I sit in the stands watching a train wreck of a team.
Even though his freshman year statistics were better than any other pitcher while playing in a tough conference, he remains puzzled by the attitude, disrespect and disregard. Fortunately, the bullpen has bonded and the guys are in this together. Currently, he is working out with another player as they tinker with the speed on their fast balls and create new pitches.
With that said, the bullpen guys enjoy each others company and have gotten very silly to stay sane. They scratch the number of games left on the fence in the bullpen as if they were incarcerated. They share odd stories ranging from players that they struck out to their girl friends. There is also rock tossing into a cup competition for points. A champion will be crowned at the end of the season. Last night, they started to create home made exercise videos on their cell phones and are posting them on Facebook and You Tube. The first topic was building arm strength by waving a bat one hundred times. Tonight, the pitchers will focus on core exercises in the bullpen. To say that they are bored would be an understatement....
At this point, Buddy is happy and progressing with his personal goals. This morning, he ran off to the Wednesday baseball camp for the inner city kids to deliver gum that he promised to a boy if he played hard last week. When the kid saw him, he shouted: "Where's my gum at?" Buddy handed him some BubbleTape and all is well. So, I see some personal growth.
As Buddy has reconciled the summer as part of a greater plan to build his perseverance, his dad has begun to show frustration and irritability (lovely....Buddy's emotions were finally under control, now I have to deal with the big guy). Last week's visit opened his eyes to a number of issues that Buddy and I have witnessed, complained about, but fell on deaf ears. Now dad is on the warpath and plans to come back to Ohio next week to have a showdown with the coach. The turning point for him was watching Buddy walk a player then give up a sacrifice bunt. He had one out and the coach walked out to the mound, screamed at Buddy and told him that he "sucked" and continued to insult him as he wondered aloud how he was able to play Division I baseball. He grabbed the ball, told him to get the &*$$ into the dugout and brought another pitcher out who threw a wild pitch then balked the winning run in....Buddy could do nothing but watch...dad was horrified.
And so, life in baseball continues uninterrupted by the drama. By its nature, it is competitive. Each person competes for time in the game and has their own set of goals. Without communication, players struggle to achieve the aforesaid goals. Yet, communication starts at the top as the coach should know and understand each player to get the best out of them. Unfortunately, this guy is interested only in his own personal goals and has misrepresented himself and the team to Buddy's college coaches. Next year, we will be much smarter as we interview the summer coach before making a commitment to move. This summer has been a learning experience for all of us. On to this afternoon's game in Kentucky....
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
July 4th
Happy July 4th! Hot dogs, hamburgers and watermelon for everyone! I hope that you enjoyed the day....
We had a terrific day beginning with a parade near the fairgrounds. The team was mandated to be part of a float in the July 4th parade. Needless to say, my boy was very very 'salty' as he left early in the rain and headed for the fairgrounds. I was ambivalent about attending a soggy celebration, so I took my time getting there. It was over when we got there, although I did catch the baseball team's float as they traveled back to the cars. The guys were smiling, waving flags, and joking in the rain, even my son. Although, when I finally spoke to him, he reverted back to that sullen 'it was a joke...why did they make us do that? I hate this place' type of conversation that I try to avoid at all costs. Yes, I try to avoid conflict of any sort...problem with that?
The last time that I left the blog, Buddy was going to have a conversation with the coaches, then we were going to pack everything that we could fit into the car, and leave town. He would then work out with baseball professionals and not little league coaches. Here is how it actually went down:
On Sunday, he approached the pitching coach, Stinky and shared with him the concerns that he had about his lack of development and use during the season. He mentioned that he needed a schedule so that he could continue to work out his body and strength train. He also said that he has not been given a chance to display his talents. He was very calm (he saves the rants for when I am listening) Stinky agreed. End of story....yep, end of story....he did not play on Sunday night....story continues, because it has not ended.
On Sunday, dad, Tink and I watched the game together. It was the second game of a double header in which Buddy's team won the first game. The second game was a different story and we were able to see what was going on from an objective perspective. As the starting pitcher fatigued, Stinky and Sparky (head coach) began to call out bullpen players. One by one, they entered the game and were unable to throw strikes. They were flat. The balls had no pop to them. Why? The answer is simple...they do not have training during the week. They do not throw except every few days. They have lost the edge that they came in with post season. In fact, all of the pitchers have regressed and not just Buddy. As one pitcher struggled greatly, it is the role of the head coach to walk out to the mound and relieve the pitcher and pat him on the back. The last time Sparky did this with Buddy, he cursed at him and told him that he was terrible. Back to the player on the mound, Sparky refused to go out to the mound since he was too upset. So, he let the dugout coach walk out and pull the pitcher. What does this say about Sparky's leadership style? Basically, he does not have one unless you want to call it passive-aggressive...then I would not use the word "leader" to describe him.
Dad was livid as everything fell into place. He watched Buddy be pulled out and humiliated unnecessarily on Friday night and saw Sparky's lack of coaching talent prominently displayed on Sunday. It was like fireworks on the 4th of July...boom!bang!...so evident....As we did a background check, Sparky never played college ball. In fact, he did not attend college. Furthermore, Sparky is part owner of the team, so he is focused on the bottom line financially and not what is best for his players. I was livid when I realized that the money from the 50-50 raffle that I participate in each game goes back into the coach's pocket. When the tickets are sold in the stands, the woman claims that the money goes back to the "team" so people think that it somehow goes to the players for Gatorade, uniforms, or pizza, but it doesn't. It goes back to Sparky! Some winners donate the money back to the team! If they only knew!
Where do we stand now? Buddy is going to 'gut' it out and stay until the bitter end. His father has given him permission to talk back to the coach if he disrespects him again on the mound. This is contrary to everything that we have taught the kid about communication and respecting people in authority. But the respect comes when it is earned, no matter what age a person may be. He has to take care of himself and communicate in a way that Sparky understands.
Upon reflection, it has not been a total waste of time. The kid has learned some valuable lessons that only life and an inept coach can teach. He has demonstrated perseverance and the ability to walk through the storm unscathed. Tonight the team plays against a foe from the northern part of the state. Two of his college buddies are on the team, so it will be nice to reconnect with them. And so, I, bullpen mom, will sit in the stands, let my mind wander to my 'happy place', cheer on the players, and NOT participate in 50-50.
We had a terrific day beginning with a parade near the fairgrounds. The team was mandated to be part of a float in the July 4th parade. Needless to say, my boy was very very 'salty' as he left early in the rain and headed for the fairgrounds. I was ambivalent about attending a soggy celebration, so I took my time getting there. It was over when we got there, although I did catch the baseball team's float as they traveled back to the cars. The guys were smiling, waving flags, and joking in the rain, even my son. Although, when I finally spoke to him, he reverted back to that sullen 'it was a joke...why did they make us do that? I hate this place' type of conversation that I try to avoid at all costs. Yes, I try to avoid conflict of any sort...problem with that?
The last time that I left the blog, Buddy was going to have a conversation with the coaches, then we were going to pack everything that we could fit into the car, and leave town. He would then work out with baseball professionals and not little league coaches. Here is how it actually went down:
On Sunday, he approached the pitching coach, Stinky and shared with him the concerns that he had about his lack of development and use during the season. He mentioned that he needed a schedule so that he could continue to work out his body and strength train. He also said that he has not been given a chance to display his talents. He was very calm (he saves the rants for when I am listening) Stinky agreed. End of story....yep, end of story....he did not play on Sunday night....story continues, because it has not ended.
On Sunday, dad, Tink and I watched the game together. It was the second game of a double header in which Buddy's team won the first game. The second game was a different story and we were able to see what was going on from an objective perspective. As the starting pitcher fatigued, Stinky and Sparky (head coach) began to call out bullpen players. One by one, they entered the game and were unable to throw strikes. They were flat. The balls had no pop to them. Why? The answer is simple...they do not have training during the week. They do not throw except every few days. They have lost the edge that they came in with post season. In fact, all of the pitchers have regressed and not just Buddy. As one pitcher struggled greatly, it is the role of the head coach to walk out to the mound and relieve the pitcher and pat him on the back. The last time Sparky did this with Buddy, he cursed at him and told him that he was terrible. Back to the player on the mound, Sparky refused to go out to the mound since he was too upset. So, he let the dugout coach walk out and pull the pitcher. What does this say about Sparky's leadership style? Basically, he does not have one unless you want to call it passive-aggressive...then I would not use the word "leader" to describe him.
Dad was livid as everything fell into place. He watched Buddy be pulled out and humiliated unnecessarily on Friday night and saw Sparky's lack of coaching talent prominently displayed on Sunday. It was like fireworks on the 4th of July...boom!bang!...so evident....As we did a background check, Sparky never played college ball. In fact, he did not attend college. Furthermore, Sparky is part owner of the team, so he is focused on the bottom line financially and not what is best for his players. I was livid when I realized that the money from the 50-50 raffle that I participate in each game goes back into the coach's pocket. When the tickets are sold in the stands, the woman claims that the money goes back to the "team" so people think that it somehow goes to the players for Gatorade, uniforms, or pizza, but it doesn't. It goes back to Sparky! Some winners donate the money back to the team! If they only knew!
Where do we stand now? Buddy is going to 'gut' it out and stay until the bitter end. His father has given him permission to talk back to the coach if he disrespects him again on the mound. This is contrary to everything that we have taught the kid about communication and respecting people in authority. But the respect comes when it is earned, no matter what age a person may be. He has to take care of himself and communicate in a way that Sparky understands.
Upon reflection, it has not been a total waste of time. The kid has learned some valuable lessons that only life and an inept coach can teach. He has demonstrated perseverance and the ability to walk through the storm unscathed. Tonight the team plays against a foe from the northern part of the state. Two of his college buddies are on the team, so it will be nice to reconnect with them. And so, I, bullpen mom, will sit in the stands, let my mind wander to my 'happy place', cheer on the players, and NOT participate in 50-50.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Fireworks
Last night started off a very festive holiday weekend with sister Scooby hosting a pool party with fireworks. There was lots of great food and awesome fireworks set off at the school down the street from the house. It was wonderful...
As we sat enjoying the beautiful colors of the sky show, there was another set of fireworks erupting in the adjacent state as Buddy's flame burned higher and brighter than any other man made pyrotechnic display. While watching the rockets red glare, there were bombs bursting elsewhere. It seemed surreal as the roman candles burned brightly, I received a call from dad. Buddy is warming up and will go in the game during the 8th inning, which was the exact time that the fireworks were exploding.
According to dad, he walked the first batter on a 3-2 pitch. The second batter placed a bunt and moved the batter to second base. The second batter was out. So, there was 1 out with a man on second. This is nothing for my son. He thrives on a bit of stress, and this was nothing...until....
Sparky the coach walks out from the dugout, tells him that he stinks (my cleaner version of the comment) and pulls him from the game. Mortified, he sits in the dugout while the next pitcher throws a wild pitch advancing the runner to third base then balks with the winning run scoring. The team loses....dad and Buddy lit off rockets that were seen throughout the Midwest and Southeast US. In fact, I think that the beautiful fireworks display that I was watching was a further manifestation of what was happening in Ohio.
Does it sound like I am making excuses for my son? Nope....the first, second and third pitchers were wild and gave up 5 runs. Buddy did not have a chance to settle in to the game. The last time that he pitched was 8 days ago. The coach expected him to stand up and throw the ball across the plate with no practice. It is bizarre.
On the way home from the party, I received not 1, not 2, but 3 phone calls from 2 angry people. The calls went something like this..."#$AM)STD%%%*&<.....furthermore....*U@#!@@@(^$% Coach...*&$V(%^....wasting my time &^*%%$#$..." Get the picture?
I calmed him down and we all agreed (I am glad that dad was there to witness it) that he would speak to the coach...keep it under 1 minute because Sparky would be unable to follow a conversation for a longer period of time...The plan was made and we said good night...
An early morning wake up call (thanks dad) to discuss the matter further began my day. We worked out the details of the plan and made a few decisions. First, the conversation with Sparky will take place today. Buddy will tell him in a nonthreatening, factual way that he has not been given the opportunity to display his talents or develop under the coach's tutelage. Second, he needs to know what the coach's intentions for him are and that he needs some type of schedule as to if and when he is going to pitch. Without a schedule, he cannot work out. His coach at his college gave him a routine for each day with running, weight lifting, aerobics, stretching, and so on. He cannot do any of the activities if he is going to throw. if he does not know when he is going to throw, then he cannot train....see the dilemma? Also, he has lost a significant amount of weight with his illness and inability to train. With weight loss comes muscle loss and results in a slower fast ball.
With that said, after the conversation with Sparky, he is going to call his coach at school and share the details. He will follow any advice that the coach gives him. Further, he has our blessing to leave the team and return home to train with coaches who understand the game and how to develop players. He actually has my permission to resign from the team. The goal of improving and being given innings to improve his fast ball have not been forthcoming. If anything, he is regressing...
And so....Look up in the sky tonight...if you see an errant rocket exploding, it could be the results of Buddy's conversation with Sparky and Stinky Pete....What ever his college coach decides, Buddy will abide by...this means if he is told to leave the team to train at home with professional coaches, he will....sadly, we'll miss the cheap wine and Bullpen Boogie...and so it goes in the life of a bullpen kid.
Have a great weekend...off to party number two......
As we sat enjoying the beautiful colors of the sky show, there was another set of fireworks erupting in the adjacent state as Buddy's flame burned higher and brighter than any other man made pyrotechnic display. While watching the rockets red glare, there were bombs bursting elsewhere. It seemed surreal as the roman candles burned brightly, I received a call from dad. Buddy is warming up and will go in the game during the 8th inning, which was the exact time that the fireworks were exploding.
According to dad, he walked the first batter on a 3-2 pitch. The second batter placed a bunt and moved the batter to second base. The second batter was out. So, there was 1 out with a man on second. This is nothing for my son. He thrives on a bit of stress, and this was nothing...until....
Sparky the coach walks out from the dugout, tells him that he stinks (my cleaner version of the comment) and pulls him from the game. Mortified, he sits in the dugout while the next pitcher throws a wild pitch advancing the runner to third base then balks with the winning run scoring. The team loses....dad and Buddy lit off rockets that were seen throughout the Midwest and Southeast US. In fact, I think that the beautiful fireworks display that I was watching was a further manifestation of what was happening in Ohio.
Does it sound like I am making excuses for my son? Nope....the first, second and third pitchers were wild and gave up 5 runs. Buddy did not have a chance to settle in to the game. The last time that he pitched was 8 days ago. The coach expected him to stand up and throw the ball across the plate with no practice. It is bizarre.
On the way home from the party, I received not 1, not 2, but 3 phone calls from 2 angry people. The calls went something like this..."#$AM)STD%%%*&<.....furthermore....*U@#!@@@(^$% Coach...*&$V(%^....wasting my time &^*%%$#$..." Get the picture?
I calmed him down and we all agreed (I am glad that dad was there to witness it) that he would speak to the coach...keep it under 1 minute because Sparky would be unable to follow a conversation for a longer period of time...The plan was made and we said good night...
An early morning wake up call (thanks dad) to discuss the matter further began my day. We worked out the details of the plan and made a few decisions. First, the conversation with Sparky will take place today. Buddy will tell him in a nonthreatening, factual way that he has not been given the opportunity to display his talents or develop under the coach's tutelage. Second, he needs to know what the coach's intentions for him are and that he needs some type of schedule as to if and when he is going to pitch. Without a schedule, he cannot work out. His coach at his college gave him a routine for each day with running, weight lifting, aerobics, stretching, and so on. He cannot do any of the activities if he is going to throw. if he does not know when he is going to throw, then he cannot train....see the dilemma? Also, he has lost a significant amount of weight with his illness and inability to train. With weight loss comes muscle loss and results in a slower fast ball.
With that said, after the conversation with Sparky, he is going to call his coach at school and share the details. He will follow any advice that the coach gives him. Further, he has our blessing to leave the team and return home to train with coaches who understand the game and how to develop players. He actually has my permission to resign from the team. The goal of improving and being given innings to improve his fast ball have not been forthcoming. If anything, he is regressing...
And so....Look up in the sky tonight...if you see an errant rocket exploding, it could be the results of Buddy's conversation with Sparky and Stinky Pete....What ever his college coach decides, Buddy will abide by...this means if he is told to leave the team to train at home with professional coaches, he will....sadly, we'll miss the cheap wine and Bullpen Boogie...and so it goes in the life of a bullpen kid.
Have a great weekend...off to party number two......
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