Pass the peanut butter

Good morning! It's time to laugh at ourselves. We have a tendency to take life too seriously and miss out on the little joys and pleasures that it can present. Each day, we put our game faces on and do not notice the sweetness that life can bring....like missing out on a good laugh....

And that is what Coach Speedy has brought to me; that is, the wonder of how the heck a mascot could be appointed as head coach of a prospect league that boasts of a number of elite athletes throughout the country who have been assigned to each team to hone their skills and prepare for the next year of collegiate competition.



Honestly, it's some sort of a joke....that a banished pugilistic turtle could be re-hired by a team to coach these guys is beyond any sort of logic. The team is currently touring Ohiooooo....yep, he's back in O-hi-oooooo. The big kid sent a snap chat (a photo) of their motel 6 and called it the Ohio Ritz Carlton. There are two guys to each bed and four guys sharing a bathroom, and the place has roaches. Originally, he was to pitch tonight but five hours into the trip on Friday, Coach Speedy changed his mind and told him that he would pitch when he returned home on Monday night. When pressed as to why the heck he had to take the road trip when he was not pitching, the former turtle replied "for moral support." Nice.



Last night, the rains came and the game was not played until 10 pm with three people in the stands. The guys had nothing to eat since lunch and were hungry by 8 o'clock.



The opposing team sent over a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a case of water. Before the team got to the 'snack', Coach Speedy had eaten half of the loaf of bread, leaving 6 slices for 18 guys. Do the math.....

When the game ended at 1 am, they looked for something that was open to buy food, but the sidewalks and streets were tucked into bed. Therefore, they ate whatever they could find and went to bed. They have another game today at 1 pm and then return home. The trip is 8 hours in length, so they should be home around midnight.

As the summer season comes to a close, it is obvious that the team is not headed for the play offs, so it is time to plan an escape from Illinois and a route back to the east coast.


 The neurotic mother in me will not allow any kid drive 18 hours alone, therefore, guess who gets to fly to St. Louis and drive home in a stinky car?

Uh, that would be me. So, I do have a vacation.....it's time to find the biggest ketchup bottle, ball of string, largest thermometer, and best pizza as we plan the route. Will this be fun?

Maybe....if we look at life's idiosyncrasies in a humorous light, I will have lots to document as we begin the journey back home.....to our own beds.....our own food......my own box of wine.....

Peace!

I'm back!!

Greetings! Tink and I are back from the south and dad remains to help Pop sort through a number of issues. It was a sad weekend, yet the life of the Southern Belle was filled with energy and excitement. She and Pop had traveled together to 99 countries over their years together. They were blessed with children and grandchildren. She was laid to rest in a style befitting of a southern belle....underneath a large, graceful tree laden with Spanish moss in a bucolic setting. May she rest in peace.



On to life and the big guy. I saw him this weekend for less than 24 hours as Tink and I sat in the Atlanta airport for over 8 hours. What did we do to bide our time? Well, the answer is 'not much'. Since we were on 'stand by', we could not move and had to watch each flight  unload and load as we waited for our names to be called...which they were not. Warning...airport food is raunchy.....bring granola bars when you travel. By 4 o'clock, I was ready to fly my own plane to our destination.....

Anyway, the kid was ready to start on Sunday night after his elbow finally felt normal. He had visited Yoda a few weeks back and once he was cleared, he entered games from the bullpen...ahhh, I remember those years in the bullpen as if it were yesterday...oh wait, those days were like yesterday since he only began to start games in April.



Back to the start day....he flew from Savannah on Saturday night and landed in St. Louis at 11:30 pm. Since I am a neurotic mother, dad made sure that he had a hotel room in St. Louis so that he did not have to drive that night after an exhausting weekend. As such, he landed in a king size bed and slept through 5 alarms and wake up calls. Finally, the hotel room pounded on his door making sure that he was alive at 11:30.....I guess the guy was tired, eh?

As he started his journey back to the Land of Lincoln, he had....wait for this.....a car accident.....that's right. A man backed his car at a red light into the guy's front bumper. Sheesh! All I could think of once I found out that he was safe was that this was a bad way to start the day. Although, after an accident, it could only get better, right?



As per the usual pre game start, I got my usual text with the usual message which includes: "I will make you proud of me...."

Seriously, a mom could not have a better son than this one. I am already proud of the big dude.....then he went to work and carved.....and carved the plate.

Here are the final stats before he was taken out when his legs gave out.....5 ip, 2 er, 1 bb, 6 K's, 1 hit batter.....the team lost the game BUT the coach was thrilled to have him back in the line up as he said:"We were able to stay competitive while he was on the mound." Nice words....He also broke 7 wood bats while on the mound. I think that this is a good thing....but am not really sure....



After he came off the mound, some of the players were peeved at him because he kept yelling trying to encourage them to hit and make plays. These guys, who are average ball players at best, were not to thrilled with his passion trying to ignite them. So it goes....if he is silent, he is aloof; if he is yelling, he is a )6%&$#. Can't ever win this battle...so stop trying....

Anyway, it is now the All Star break and he has three days off to recover and get the car fixed. The damage was minimal, but it has to be fixed.

Once again...dad and I are going to try to see a few games this weekend. That's right. I have tried twice to get there and my plans have gone awry, therefore, I vow to get there this weekend. Hopefully nothing will stop me.....except, perhaps....life itself.....

With that said, I am back to work and have to earn my pay check....

Peace!

Jumping the shark

Sunshine! Cool breezes! Finally! After two days of stormy weather, we finally get a break. With all of the rain, there were numerous road closings around the house which made getting home a big dicey. Even the stream in the neighbors' backyards was rising....For now, it is all a distant memory....

This weekend, the team plays a series in Nebraska. It was not easy getting there from the mountains....first there was a bus trip (3 hours) to Baltimore....then a trip to Chicago where they were delayed for 3 hours.....finally leaving for Omaha, they arrived around midnight....only to take a bus to  Lincoln. For exam week, as a parent, I wish that the schedule had been different. But, they are going to be spending more time on air planes than playing ball this weekend. Oh well, only the strong will survive this trip.

As I pursued the opposing team's win/loss record, I could see that this team is going to be trouble. In fact, the team that won all three games last week was crushed by this team a few weeks back. May I suggest that the players have their hands full? Will it boil down to pitching? Hmmm...perhaps, but last weekend, they only scored one run in three games. So, pitching is crucial BUT hitting the ball at strategic times is essential.

With that said...who is the starting pitcher on Sunday? Would you believe that it is the elusive pitcher "TBA"? That's right. The coaches do not believe in sharing with their Sunday starter his status and is letting the pitchers twist as they try to figure out what is in their minds. I am not sure what the big secret it....but chances are that the starter is my kid who the coaches still feel is a head case. Therefore, rather than have him mentally prepare for a start, they are saving him the angst of thinking about it. Yep, that's right.....let him build anxiety about 'will I or won't I?' versus "I am...therefore I am invincible."

This leads me to continue the belief that they do not get it. If they did, they would have had a conversation and sent in the big guns to chat with the guy...like the sports psychologist. He could work with guided imagery and visualization of throwing the heat against an inferior team.

Speaking of sports shrinks....I could definitely use one today. I had agreed to sub in a tennis match today at noon. I did not tell my partner, but I have not played a match since Carter was President. Ok, would you believe GW Bush? I had been re habbing the elbow for 6 months and just dropped out for the indoor season to 'chill-ax' and work.

When I got the text to sub this week, I knew that they were "jumping the shark" and had no one else to play. What does jumping the shark mean? Remember Fonzie on Happy Days when he jumped the shark? At the time, Happy Days was on 'life support' so they traveled to California and the big news was that Fonzie was going to jump over a shark to save the show. It was broadcasted and a very big deal.

Well, in my case, I believe that this is the last ditch effort to find a sub or default the court, so the Captain has jumped the shark to save the match. A last effort, they bring in the kid who has just picked up her racquet after many moons and will try not to embarrass herself or the team.

I also found out that I am playing on the top team which means I am in over my head and naturally, the shark will more than likely eat me today.

By the way, have you seen Fonzie lately? He's like this very little guy who does not resemble the ultra hip cool guy on Happy Days. In fact, he looks like a little grandpa who rocks on his chair all day while telling the grandkids how he allegedly jumped a ferocious white shark to save his television show.

With that said, it is time for me to find a tennis skirt that fits. That's right...embarrassment number two: not sure I can fit into the outfit. Oh well....I kinda feel like this is not a great idea....yeah, it's a bad one....I need a shrink.....gotta run....oh. no, I mean...hobble to match...

Peace!