Am I dreaming?

Hello! Friday....Friday...Friday! That's it....hot n juicy kind of a day. There are lots of weeds that need to be pulled, but it's waaay too hot. Speaking of too hot, I have tried to get my electrician to fix the outside lights for the past 6 weeks. First excuse: "ground is too hard..." Second excuse: "too wet"...Next excuse: "get the bushes trimmed so I can get back there..." Today's excuse: "too hot..." Dude, do you only work when the weather is dry, 72 degree temperatures with a cool but not too cool breeze? 'Cause if this is the case, I am going to electrician school and dumping my college degrees....just sayin'....

On to a bigger problem than the lighting on the outside of the house.....yesterday, the big guy woke up with terrible pain in the left arm and a more terrible reaction. I am not going to give you a blow by blow description, but let's just say that I left for work a few hours early. He was absolutely hostile, salty, and out of his mind. Nothing is right. Everything is wrong. This is the worst....blah blah blah....yeah, that's what it sounded like and I am not kidding. On my way out the door, I admonished him for going from 0 to 60 mph without shifting and considering his options. Frankly, I would not like this kid to be my surgeon when a major artery is nicked with the scalpel. I can see him screaming in the operating room while all of my blood leaves my body.....again....just sayin'....



As I ran out the door, I shouted to him..."Did you call PT?...no.....well....what do you expect?"
"Text Uncle G to see you....." Finally as I sped away in the safety of my vehicle, I considered one last option. And may I say that it was my idea....I called home....call your surgeon and see if he can see you today.

And so, I landed safely at work, and yes, I was more than happy to be there when I received call number 1: "The surgeon will see me today....." Good. This call interrupted my first meeting.



Call number two comes in after call number one (again interrupting my meeting) from dad. I did answer reluctantly and asked if I could return his call after the meeting: "Hurry up..." Why does this lack of planning constitute an emergency for me? Huh? Why?

Having to rush through the rest of the meeting with the explanation that my 21 year kid and his dad cannot go 10 minutes without speaking to me, I returned the call. "We're going to see Dr. M at 1:45." Gotcha....by chance, you really don't need me there....right?

On to meeting two that went very well without any texts, calls or updates.....

Now, I don't want anyone to think that I am self-indulgent, but I finally decided to treat the legs and feet to a pedicure.....Ok, there is more to the story than picking the right color....

The pedicure was to take place at a new place where the women and men sit in easy chairs, lights are dimmed, candles are lit (or actually faux candles), music is low and soothing, and they begin by placing you on an ottoman with your feet in a warm bucket of water, not a whirlpool. Then as you sit there, a woman with strong fingers and hands gives you a shoulder and back message....yep, that's right.....it's just what I needed after months of being on call, resolving problems, worry, and stress...

as I began to relax, the phone goes off....OYE!!!! "Where are you? We haven't been seen yet by the doctor...." My 30 seconds of relaxation evaporated into the bucket of water....."Uh, pedicure time....remember? A year overdue....K?"


Hanging up,  I turned the ringer volume off as she began to massage the legs...when I tell you that this was amazing...I am not lying....relax...relax...relax....ahhhh.....ring...ring...ring...the phone rang through vibration....Ignore it, I say to myself...this is your 10 minutes....ignore it....ignore it....ignore...."OK, now what??"

And my 30 seconds of relaxation was all I needed as the surgeon felt that he could continue to throw and that his tricep was tight....diagnosis: go to Texas....He actually said more, but I don't have enough time to review. Therefore, the trip was on...or was it?

Today he was scheduled to see his PT to discuss therapy and stretches to alleviate the sore tricep....ready, set, go.....the PT examined the kid and shut him down. In other words, no Texas. Sigh....

Here is the breakdown...he has a little strain and his mechanics are screwed up (that's what college coaching will do for ya....). No Texas....come to PT....relearn your mechanics, build your shoulder strength again....oh by the way, according to his surgeon who is the KC Royals pitching doctor, a pitcher is never to lift weights over his head. What has he been doing for the last three years? Answer: Lifting weights over his head. In fact, a good percentage of the team's pitchers have needed surgery in the past few years. And now, we know why.





Where do we stand besides the Land of Ambiguity? Well, he's not headed to Texas until July....going to work out with the therapist....going to see Coach T in Lehigh Valley...going to find a local pitching coach. All this is new information for us as we process the events of the last 48 hours.

Where do I stand? Well, I'd like to place my head in a bucket of warm water rather than my feet, pinch myself, and try to see if all of this is a dream.....

have a great weekend!

Now what?

Good morning! We are heating up in the northeast~ Yuk

As we prepare for the big kid's departure to his current holy land-Houston....it is never without bits issues and problems. Naturally....Can we have it without complications for once? No? OK, fine...

Here is the deal....Last night there was a regional baseball game. Once again, the big kid was scheduled to play in a relief role. "Who cares if you are relief, as long as you pitch?" says dad. Woefully, the big kid with a bigger head wants to start. Period.

And so, in the latter innings after Tink and I watched from the car...nice and comfy....He was called into the game. As Tink and I hummed the Theme from Rocky....da da daa da da da da da da...

 Not this Rocky......




 This one...Yo!


He runs in. Takes his deep breath...stretches....throw...throw...throw....Has anyone seen a strike yet? No? OK...



Inning begins....the first two guys are out...The next guy is hit by a pitch but his bat is also hit so the hit is considered a strike....After going over the game in the kitchen, the leftie admitted to hitting the kid on purpose for a number of reasons that go back to Little League.

 


I'll let this one go until later.
The next batter his a weak double into the out field....the next hit a weaker single that scored the first batter. Finally they were out of the inning.

As the kid entered the kitchen after the game, he complained about shoulder pain. Really? Three days before you leave for the Mecca of baseball, you have a sore shoulder? Do I want to kill you now or later? Deep breath, BPM....in...out....

OK, tomorrow call the physical therapist and get into his office ASAP. As I write this note, the kid is still in bed with no signs of calling PT. And, get this...I know that there will be this huge "whine-session" later when the therapist cannot fit him into his schedule.

Can he go to Houston with a sore shoulder? Should he? Could he? Would he? Fees paid...airfare paid...car rental paid....Now what?

Stay tuned.....

Back in town

Good morning. Today is Memorial Day and I would like to honor the men and women who valiantly served our country. I would not be where I am today without their selfless service dedicated to the ideals established by our founding fathers.

I have only a few moments to write this note as my battery is about to expire. Since I am in very back of the plane (3 rows from the end, two from the kid with the productive cough, and behind the man who threatened to break his wife’s new Beats earphones if she did not turn them off). 

I can say there is not a dull moment in row 37 seat D. The guy next to me looks like Justin Timberlake. Yeah, I know that it is not him. Why would he place himself in the back of an airplane from Atlanta, nonetheless, he looks a lot like the former Mousesketeer.

Speaking of Mouseketeers, the big guy stayed home to play baseball, work, and care for the dog. On a number of occasions he called to say that he was bored. Hey, do you mean that you miss us or my cooking? Uh, perhaps both…..

‘nuff said…that’s all I need to feel wanted here. And so, we head north to where the air is cool and breezy. Not much going on in the south, although the weather was outstanding….I don’t remember such wonderful blue skies and gentle breezes like this past weekend.

Although, we did make a major purchase. While visiting the folks, the battery on my phone stopped holding a charge. So I landed up in the Verizon store and badda badda bing….a new phone called the DNA. That’s right….something new that will cause me some angst and loss of phone calls. As I tried to answer a call, I disconnected the phone several times this weekend. According to the sales representative, there is a learning curve. Yes, ma’m….there is a steep learning curve, isosceles triangle and right angle too.

I have downloaded the usual ring tones, games, email, weather updates, and apps. But honestly, I cannot figure out how to answer the phone without disconnecting the line. I guess this will come with practice. It’s like when you receive a new computer, you are so excited, but then grieve the old computer that had your data, photos, and was set up just the way that you like it. I go through a period of mourning with new devices as I say good by to my old ones.

Speaking of good byes….last night as we walked into the restaurant for dinner, there was a huge party going on with a band, photos of a lady, dancing, and singing. I thought that it was a fund raiser but it wasn’t! It was a memorial service for the lady in the portraits. Instead of a funeral, she opted for a big party for 200 of her closest friends as they toasted her memory in style. Yeah, now that is putting the ‘fun’ back into funeral.

Thinking about this notion on Memorial Day, that’s the way that I would like it. As a Catholic, I need the prayers at mass, but afterwards, let’s part-ee. Why not? It will be on me. I’ll save enough and leave the gatherers a party where they can sing, dance, and open a box of wine or two. Then, in my memory, they can sing my favorite song: “Happy Birthday”. That’s right. It’s my favorite song. After all, which song do you know of that once you sing it, you get a slice of cake at the end? Pretty nifty, right?

As they leave the party, I’ll have party bags for them. I am not sure what will be in the bags, but probably some candy, wine, Skittles, Kashi bars, a memento or two, and the contents of my closet. Yeah, that  won’t fit into a party bag, but if the gang wants to take some of my clothes, go ahead. Whatever is left can go to the homeless. That’s really all I have of great value. After all, I bought most of them on the clearance rack with an added coupon savings hundreds of dollars....True, I have the wedding rings, but the kids can have those if they want them, which they will…..Morbid? nope….eventually going to happen, so let’s do it right, just like the lady in the photos. Good for her. She also leaves love, friendship, family,a fun, laughter, and good times. Let’s see…isn’t that what it is all about?

Have a great day!

Diva Dog's Birthday!

Greetings from the lovely south....heard about the rain at home...oh well....Hey, today is Diva dog's birthday...that's right...she is 8 today. How do I know? Well, Tink was in my bedroom this morning at 5 am to tell me. Then I got an angry call at 8am from a tall left handed guy at home who shared that Tink called him to speak to the dog to wish her a happy birthday. OK, do you see why I am a bit...let's say....nuts?

Checking in with the leftie and his not-so-faithful companion Diva dog, he saw Hangover III last night anticipating some great fun and was not pleased that the sequel of the sequel was not as good as the first one. Anyone shocked? As far as I am concerned, I will wait until I see it scheduled for HBO so that I can turn it off....



Today he is hanging out with Lil A as her Buddy-sitter as her dad sees patients in his office. He is quite predictable with his babysitting....he stops to pick her up, drives to pick up .99 cent egg, cheese and bacon bagels, returns to her house, watches Toddlers and Tiaras with her, makes fun of the show, plays Wii, then it is time for a nap on the sofa by 10 am. Good thing, Lil A is turning 11 next month....otherwise I would worry. But she likes his hands on-hands off style of watching her. She feels more like a big kid when he's around. Around noon, it will be time for lunch at some local pizza place and on to our house to play with Diva. And that's it.....a babysitting model for a pre-teen and her cousin to embrace.

Not much else going on. Tink and I are headed out to ride bikes around town. I guess that a person could call this relaxing....Although, she has grabbed an advertising flyer from the paper and is making plans to shop with a 25% and 10% coupon off all clearance items....she's really growing up!

Later!

Cupcakes and more

Greetings from the south....it's hot n steamy....something like our airplane last night. Yeah, that's right...we sat on the tarmac at the airport for 90 minutes waiting to take off. The plane was so hot that my hair curled and shirt was drenched.....if that is not bad enough, I began to feel claustrophobic and had to do some deep breathing exercises.....in...out...in...out....finally, we took off and the plane cooled down. But I really hate the feeling of complete powerlessness when you have to sit there, see the ground, and can't move. Yuk.....hate flying....wish I had wings to fly places myself. Now, that is an image......the only problem is where would I put my luggage and laptop? On my back?

Uh, maybe.....

Tink, dad, and I are in the south this weekend visiting the southern belle and pop. Gotta make some homemade goodies to fill the fridge. I guess that you would call this a culinary house call. Will submit my bill to Obama Care through the IRS....just kiddin'....

On to the big leftie who we left home to mind Diva dog and play baseball and perhaps work in the bakery to earn money to go to Texas next week. He is definitely a work in progress, so to say. He had a game last night with the local adult league and was placed in the game to 'pitch run'. You see, he has to play in at least six games to qualify to pitch in the play offs. Since he is gone for two weeks, the coach wants him to be active when he returns. So, he placed him in to pitch run.....The questions were: "Did you steal any bases?" and "Did you score?"


The answers were "no" and "no"...."I am not running, pulling a muscle, getting spiked, breaking my ankle for no one....." Fortunately, the batter popped up to end the inning. He got into the game and can remain active....no damage done...no one was spiked......

Once he returned home, I had given him a list of things to do and remember:
1. lock all doors
2. turn alarm on when you leave and at night.
3. turn gas off after grilling
4. turn gas off after using stove top
5. walk the dog
6. feed the dog
7. don't trust the dog...ever...

By 11 pm last night when we touched base after arriving in Atlanta, he had already walked the dog and set off the alarm alerting police and the alarm people.

 




Next time before I leave, I will give him a tutorial with pictures and post it notes.....In other words: do not open the door without turning the alarm off. The police do not like coming to a house when there is nothing to do. Face it, they like action, not some knucklehead who forgets the pass code to his own home. Also, when they come to a house without needing their service, they get real cranky and give us a citation. Yep, that's right, it costs me money.....and embarrassment when I open the door in the middle of the night....I am frightening enough during the day....envision 2 am after a little REM sleep.

With that said, I am off to the Piggly Wiggly or something like that to buy ingredients. These people do not have cupcake pans....what kind of a house does not have cupcake pans? Aren't cupcakes part of the nutritional pyramid? So much to teach them....so little time.....

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....

Embrace your crazy

Good morning! It's overcast, but I don't care...everyone was in the house last night and it felt awesome...although I was in bed with a tissue stuffed up my nose as the sinus thing will not go away. It is stuck on me like a piece of old chewing gum on one of my favorite boots.....can't get rid of it, so I accept it's existence in my life.....

And now...on to life as we know it....as we celebrated Cupcake's birthday in the only way the BP mom family knows how to do it with lots of people, food, pastries, and fun....the big kid decided to make an entrance which made everyone soooo happy. Arriving directly at the party after checking out of the house of mold, the big guy went on to share some of his highlights of his last week as a red shirt sophomore.....yep, these are the highlights....

Besides hanging out with the guys and partying one last time, Angel found the opposing team from Michigan and invited them to hang out with them for a while. Naturally, this lead to quite a bit of friendly camaraderie. As Buddy learned, you don't necessarily have to hate your opponent all the time, just while they are on the field.

And speaking of 'on the field', he did have the opportunity to throw last week as you read in one of the last posts. He had two awesome innings and one not-so-good inning....very typical outing for the big guy. And so, as he loaded the bases in the only way he knows how-by hitting the last batter, the pitching coach walked out to the mound....actually, he trudged out.....yep, step by step....inch by inch...grabs the ball and says: "You're embarrassing yourself...." and that was it. Not..."good effort....nice try....some good throws...." Nope....you embarrassed yourself and the university. Shall I comment on these historical words or move on? Let's move on, 'cause I will save this commentary for later.

The team actually won one of the three games and packed up to return home or find a job.

But, before they left, the head coach met with all of next year's returning players to go over the year and make summer and fall plans. This, my friends, never ends....ever....



In the meeting, the coach was happy about Texas but gave the big kid one bit of advice....now I am paraphrasing....

"Some people on the team think that you are crazy..."

"Yeah, well coach, if working hard and focusing on improving is crazy, then I guess I am."

"OK, embrace your craziness. I like it...."

Embrace your crazy....that's nice....embrace it...like hold on to the label that we have given to a guy who works hard every day, gets to the field early, leaves late, processes all kinds of information, reviews film, throws in the dark with the headlights of the car focused on the field, eats, sleeps, and dreams his chosen profession, does everything that the coaches ask without a word of negativity....and so on....oh, by the way...makes the Dean's List during the baseball season.

yeah....super....stay crazy....'cause let me tell you, Sir....this is the type of attitude that can change systems, professions, communities, and the world. You want more people to focus on their strengths and try to eliminate their weaknesses. You want people who will not settle for mediocrity. This is called a person who is dedicated and someone who leads by example.

Therefore, by fueling the 'kid is crazy' legend, you are basically telling people that it is OK to make fun of the kid who studies hard, does his work, and becomes a brain surgeon. After all, brain surgeons, engineers, doctors, lawyers, major league baseball players are not hatched....they work for it. So, rather than saying: "Dude, you're not nuts...you're focused....", you are sending a message to the coaches and players that it is fine to mock him.....make fun of his effort....bully him in a way.

Thank goodness, this kid is able to overcome this type of culture, 'cause there are others who are leaving the team this week and not coming back because of the way the coaches allow the inmates to run the asylum. 

Fortunately, the big guy wants it so bad and has lots of home support that he is willing to overlook these comments of condescension. I believe it makes a person stronger and his momma a bit crazed too. Yet, with the roadblocks, he just keeps on going like Super Mario as he jumps over the barrels and scary monkeys.

With that said, I gotta move on....have a great day!

All for one

Hello! I'm back...sort of...actually, I am trying to get rid of some sort of sinus thing....I have allergies....to trees and dust...Am I doomed or what? Can't avoid either. And let me tell ya....breathing is not overrated. So, I am sitting and trying to relax while blowing my nose and drinking tea. I feel a bit worthless, 'cause I could probably do a few things around the house......

Today's game was the last of the season. The big kid did not get in today but made it in on Thursday night. He gave up three runs but pitched for three innings. He had moments of brilliance and sorrow. There has to be some sort of pay off for this lifestyle. The highs are soooo high but the lows are right down there in the gutter. I couldn't do it...and actually, some of his team mates could not handle it either. One of his fellow pitchers was injured during the season, was depressed because he could not play and failed every class. In other words, he will not be back next year. This is what I mean by only the strong survive. The big leftie has had his share of lows/highs/in betweens and still gets up for another punch. What does that tell a person?

I suppose it says that he is pretty tough...although, maybe he isn't. I honestly cannot tell at this point. On Friday, he had the end of year meeting with the head coach. He told him about his clinic in Houston. The coach was very happy about it and asked him to bring ideas back for the rest of the team to implement. Ok, that works....he is looking for ways to improve, which is necessary since they only won a handful of games. The coach also said that he started late since he missed the fall and his stuff was either brilliant or awful. I concur with the coach's assessment. I just wish there was a better system of communication.

For a person to lead, he or she has to be able to connect with their followers. With that said, many of the guys were disgruntled and did not care by the middle of the season. One of the catchers is leaving the university. And nice-guy Gopher is looking to transfer back to the midwest to be closer to family. I actually thought that teams were supposed to be like families, except you get to pick the members. But in this case, it was every person for themselves rather than each other. What did the Three Musketeers yell?..."All for one and one for all!" Yeah, that's right.  I didn't witness even two musketeers this season. They were more like Mouseketeers......where's Cubby and Annette?






Oye, and so, the big kid parties one more night with his boys before turning the car south to head home. He leaves the dismal season, record, and house of mold and mildew....and comes home for a week. Then on to Texas. He thinks that something magical will happen there. OK, I'm game....hope it happens for him. He deserves it after living through the past two years with his head up.

have a wonderful weekend,

BPM

Own it

Good morning! I have been told that there is a "new sheriff in town...." What does this phrase mean?

Well, after an abysmal season, the guys continue to party and by party, I mean...part-eeee. Yep, in every sense of the word, they are enjoying themselves....which leads me to muse about this
phenomenon of competitors who are too relaxed.

Yep, with a losing record, the guys are drinking, eating, and partying to the wee hours of the morning, then heading to the stadium to slay the mighty conference foes. With that kind of preparation, is it a wonder why they cannot win? Have a conference high in fielding errors? Have pitchers who cannot

 


find the plates? Coaches who seemingly have checked out?

What do I think about it? Well, as you know, I am a parent...not like the ones who stop by their kids houses and start drinking until excess or falling down drunk, I don't bring alcohol to my child's residence to party with him and the guys, and I do not stay until the early morning to see the sunrise as I adjust to a major hangover.  I also do not tell the guys during a losing streak to get drunk, nor would I play a player who has failed a drug test (although by policy, they can...no policies violated).



While listening to the big kid rant this morning, he has decided to take over next year. He wants a team that focuses on their sport during the season and who is serious. Does he have his work cut out for him? Uh....in a word....yep.....

As he spewed his dislike for what is going on and what happened, I asked him how he was going to stage his "coup". "Well, they may need some autocratic leadership...." Ok, professor, let's think this one through.....An autocrat is someone demanding that others follow their command not lead. So, if you think that these knuckleheads are going to acquiesce to this type of authority, then you have a bigger issue. Therefore, re-think the autocratic theory.
 
"OK, maybe I will lead by example...." Ahhh, better......This seems like a more reasonable approach to getting the guys to work harder and eliminate alcohol and @#^& from their lives. Already one player lost an internship because he failed a drug test. Is this pervasive in this university or all universities in the US? You tell me.....I think that once the kids leave the home, they make their decisions. Hopefully, we instilled in them the right method of accountability for their actions. You make a bad decision, you 'own' it. Mama told you the rules.....you now live by your actions....

But, somewhere along the rocky road, the big kid got the message. Is he perfect? Sorry, I just laughed and fell off the sofa....No, he is not perfect but he has his values and has been making fairly good decisions and finally, yes, finally made the deans list. Oh yeah, and I did hear something about law school....my little guy who cursed the rain during a postponed baseball game in grade school....who cried when he was thrown out at first base.........yeah...him......law school.....wow, if this really happens, then I can demand a DNA test, 'cause I am not sure that he is really my kid.



With that said, the game begins tonight at 6pm as the headaches  begin to abate. From what I understand, there was a huge party last night and the guys will be hung over. This is a great way to end an abysmal season. In other words, these guys will 'own' the outcome...

Have a good one!