Fired!

Greetings from the south....sorry that I have not written but I did not have access to a computer until now. Before I begin....a big birthday shout out to Chill who represents the youth of the family...happy day kiddo...enjoy your cake...pie...cupcake....cream puff....Huh? Cream puff? Yep, one year BP Grandmom made homemade cream puffs for my birthday since I was not in the mood for cake. Yeah. I know what you're thinking....not in the mood for cake? Uh huh...not that year.....

 

On to more pressing issues. I see that Charley Manual, the manager of the Phillies was fired today. He joins a list of coaches and managers who are unemployed at the moment. However, before we say adios to Charley, I want to thank him for bringing a championship to the Phillies after such a long dry spell. Time to take the millions and take a cruise or 50. Vaya con dios, big guy....



Who else has lost their jobs? Well......the pitching coach is now gone....finite...hasta luego....bah bahh... He got the pink slip on Wednesday when the new coach met with him and gave him his walking papers and took his radar gun. He's now looking for employment. I have nothing nice to say, so I will not say anything. Why? Well, I am not fond of the way he treated my kid as well as the other players. The number of surgeries on the guys' arms was way above the national average. Therefore, he honestly had no clue. I am not sure what he qualified to do at this point. But I do wish him well as he searches for fulfillment.

The other coach who was fired was the hitting and recruiting coach. I liked this guy. He was kind and cared about the guys, team, and school. He is one of the casualties of the head coach's termination. I do feel for the guy. He has 6 boys under the age of 9 and his wife does not work. He needs a job...right now. Anyone looking to hire a nice guy with lots of kids who actually gives a hoot? If so, I'll give you his contact information.

On Monday, the big kid and I head to campus to give the infamous sofa away. We can't give it to Good Will or Purple Heart since it is a sofa bed. Dog and OC have been the room mates from hell, want him to leave the sofa with them, not pay him for it or anything else that he brought to the house...and oh, by the way, give $45 for a cleaning service to come in to the house of mold to clean it since it is uninhabitable right now. Since my kid has not lived there since the beginning of May and the other guys had trashed it while he was away, he is not now nor will ever, pay for a cleaning service to clean up after the others. OC is so angry that he threatened to have his mother e-mail me.

Ohhhh...am I scared of Mrs OC? In a word....'no'. Yep, she lives in the lavish Orange County gated community that is seem on some Housewives show, but her wealth does not intimidate me. If she does contact me, I will politely tell her that this is a matter between room mates and not their mothers. In fact, I heard that she wants me to pay for the blinds that she put into the house. OK...so, if we do a spread sheet, let's look at my contribution....sofa bed, tables, chairs (stolen off the porch when OC left them out over a break), pots, pans, soaps, dishes, cleaner, laundry hanger, and so on and on and on....I am not sticking my big toe into this battle. 'cause if BP mom has to get involved, there will be no survivors. Once my right index finger starts to point, the kids know to run and get out of Dodge. I have no patience for this nor will I fight this kind of stupid battle. Ask me to collect money for cancer research, work with the homeless, help to find a cure for overspending BUT don't ask me to stick my nose where it does not belong.

Whew....That was cleansing.....OK, I gotta go and figure out what to make for dinner....any ideas?

Later!

Andre and me

Good blustery morning....the wind is blowing and we are expecting some snow. This is a far cry from our lovely Texas weather....but we choose to live here, so no complaints will be offered except...burrrrr.....

And now, here is an update from Texas. The last that we saw our hero...he was very salty about being given the hook before he could completely close the game. In his mind, the coach  made a huge mistake. Ok, perhaps....but he does not control the coaches mind...unless he is an alien who has the capacity to take over a person's body, he is stuck with focusing on his performance and trying to change the coach's perspective.

On to last night's game....my new friend started the game and sadly he did not make it out of the first inning as 6 runs were scored before the second out. He was yanked and another poor freshman entered the game and gave up two more runs. After burning through the bullpen last night, it is obvious that Buddy will be pitching in this afternoon's game. In other words, the coach has no other options. And so, the game will be on the radio as I bring all of my lucky sneakers into the living room, hold on to my rosary, and have the box of merlot next to me....break in case of emergency.

Hey, I have no doubts. I think that I raised a kid with a killer instinct. How do I know? Well, we exchange a series of text messages this morning. Keep in mind that I have given him the Andre Aggasi book and that Andre's competitive nature is "off the charts." Well, this book may have been a mistake, because my son sees so many parallels that he now aligns himself with the tennis champ's state of mind. And as he admitted...it's demented.

As we chatted back and forth, he mentioned that dad and me had given him the killer instinct. Hmmm....really? Me? A killer instinct? I dunno about that one.....but perhaps....OK, let's go back to the days of tennis....yeah...I hated to lose and still hate to lose but I thought that I channeled that competitive spirit. Maybe not. I think that I am pretty relaxed but as my friend the Menopausal marathoner stated: "You are a type A person masquerading as a Type B." Perhaps she is right. I do have a bit of a heightened sense of urgency about certain things. But really...I passed on a killer instinct gene? Is this genetic? If so, what will my grandchildren be like as they hit each other over the head for the last popsicle?

And it is true that I had to compete growing up for a pork chop or extra mashed potatoes as I had to outwit the brothers and sisters. For example, we did not have a dishwasher and were not allowed to leave the house to see friends until the dishes were done. And so, I convinced my siblings that washing the dishes was the worst job, so I took it. Little did they know that washing the dishes was the best one, because I was done first and out of the house before they could say: "You missed a spot." Then once the dishes were dry, they had to be put away, table cleaned, and floor swept. I was long gone and hanging out with my posse before the first dishes were placed in the cabinet.

So, maybe the big kid is right....or maybe he is confused. Perhaps what he perceives as a killer instinct is a nature that competes with oneself to be the best person that one can be. Also, the professions that dad and I chose require a great deal of attention to detail. Therefore, what he sees as perfection is just attention to the minutiae of the job. Whatever it may be...perhaps he is right about one thing....his temperament was definitely inherited. I am not one to sit around and need constant projects and mental stimulation. It can be anything from a great book to errands, community work, and research.

Now, if he takes these attributes and uses them for good and not as a weapon, then he will be successful in anything that he puts his mind to in life. I am not saying that he needs all "A's" in school, but as long as he figures things out, uses his head for critical thinking and reasoning, goes to church, and helps the poor and downtrodden, then I have done my job.

With that said, it's time for me to get back to my job......

Have a great day....go team!

Hitting and throwing balls

Good morning! We are going to continue to have amazing weather for the next several days. How great is that? Now all I need to do is get outside. Although I first have to catch up on my house related issues, namely the shattered window, towel bar, oil change for the car, and dog's bottom.

On Thursday night, as we sat down to dinner, Tink, dad, and I watched our teen age neighbor practice his golf swings. He has nice form but a bad aim. Tink found another ball when she walked the dog yesterday. We have quite a collection. From looking at the bathroom window, it could be due to a defect since there is no sign of a ball striking it. The window shattered but did not disintegrate into the tub or on the lawn. It is still in its frame. 

And so, I really cannot approach the neighbor....although one day, I will return the balls in a gift bag with a note if the parents are not home to receive their gift. I am also going to take a picture of the window to hold on to....I am not annoyed...just perplexed. When we watched him hit the balls, he was facing his own home....he must have a wicked hook.

This morning, I had a interesting conversation with the big kid. Yep, he is exhausted. Late nights, parties, alcohol, and clogged toilets added to classes, work outs, rehab, assignments, and papers yield a cranky boy.

After having a mom-son discussion, he has decided that there will be no more blow out parties in his house and cannot understand why the room mates do not want to hang out with pizza and a movie. He doesn't get it....hmmmm...college...no parents....booze....freedom....what is there not to get?

And so, he continued to speak of his journey and baseball goals. He asserted that his room mates will miss baseball and that they are not committed to keeping their quest to the MLB alive after college...but he is. Nice....He does not want to look back on these years with regret that he could have been more focused. Therefore, he is now over the party scene (unclogging a toilet with a fork always helps to put life into perspective) and wants to eat, sleep, go to class, and play ball. Let's see what happens.

On to LW's arm...he continues to play with less strength and a great deal of pain. Will the trainer finally stop him and work to identify the issue OR will they wait until there is permanent damage? Where are the folks? Why is he still playing....coaches....it's only fall ball....

Tomorrow, I have to drive to campus and pick up the kid to take him to a physical therapy appointment. The therapist may give him the permission to start throwing at full strength. This is what he has been waiting for since January. If all is well, he can begin to pitch next week.

Here we go....was the surgery successful? Is he ready physically and emotionally? What is fall ball going to look like? More questions than answers....more later!

Peace..out!

Forfeiting is not an option!

Good morning! This will be short and not so sweet....got to hobble over to Dr G's office in a few minutes to see whether I tore, pulled, or decimated my  calf muscle. I wish that I could say that the injury was due to catching a little girl as she fell out of a third story window like the hero in New York, but I can't. I also wish that the injury came from saving puppies from perishing in a fire...but I can't. Lastly, I wish that I could say that I injured my leg by walking the 60 mile breast cancer awareness walk...but I can't.

What I can say is OY! Yeah, oy! Last night as I walked across the tennis court after a point, I felt a twinge, then a pain...then I was crippled. Sure, it was hot, but this never happened before to me. It couldn't have been a cramp because I was drinking orange juice throughout the match. I did stretch....so what happened?

Here's how it went down....we won the first set easily and fell asleep during set two. At the end of the second set, I felt the pain and had to hold up on the match. I had a ten minute injury time out (isn't this crazy?). After ten minutes, I did not feel better, but I was not going to stop since I had a great partner and we were on our way to a win. So, we continued to play but I did not run. We lost set two and entered into a ten point tie break for set three. Mind you, the leg is immobile, but I continued to go and my poor partner had to cover 98% of the court.

Let's consider the absurdity of this decision. I am a middle aged woman with a family and full time job. No one pays me to play tennis competitively, although I am thinking that the team is going to pay me not to play. Anyway, I have an injury...so what do I do? Well, since there are no substitutions, I have two options. Stop and forfeit or continue to play and pray that through a miracle we can pull it out.

Back to set three. We battled back and forth and finally lost the tie break 11-9 to lose the match. See, I would have lost anyway, so why did I continue to play? Why indeed?

Let's consider this....I guess that I am too competitive and therefore would rather try to hobble to a win or defeat than just set my racquet down and shake hands. Silly? perhaps....perhaps not. I am now very confident that my child gets this crazy competitive nature from his mother. A friend once said to me that I was a "closet type A" personality. In other words, people do not have any idea that I am a crazed maniac on the inside. The facade is somewhat laid back and self-deprecating. This closet type A personality is going to kill me somehow or put me in a wheelchair.

Considering my options, I would rather go down swinging in life than sit on the sofa with my iPad on my lap watching a reality show. And so the pains and strains of life are well worth the efforts of putting my body out there on a 100 degree day to continue to live life to its fullest. Yep...I think that I successfully rationalized this one....on to Dr G and Tank. How many of us can say that she has an orthopedic surgeon and a physical therapist on speed dial? How many of us want to have that option? How many think that I am absolutely crazy? Show of hands please....I know that my hand is raised high in the air.

Have a great day~

The Draft

Good Morning! Today is the day that the seniors and some of the eligible underclassmen have been looking forward to and dreading....It's the Major League Baseball amateur draft day. Why are the guys dreading it? Well, if they are not drafted, then they find their business suits and button down shirts and stand in line with the rest of America looking for a job that has benefits.

Why are they excited? Huh? I need to tell you? OK, here it goes....

There are four players on Buddy's team who are actual prospects. How do we know that they are prospects? Well, they have had scouts in the stands watching them, had to complete forms and surveys for major league teams, or have had try outs with the pros. Based on what I hear through the grapevine, four or possibly five could be drafted today.

Let's start with California....he is truly a terrific pitcher. I enjoyed watching him play as his fast ball is fast and the curve has great movement. He's a big kid and in great shape. One night, he had dozens of scouts in the stands. This kid is legit.....the only downside is that he is slated to be one of Buddy's room mates next year.  He has gone on record as saying: "if the pros call....I'm outahere!" Not that I blame him one bit, but my kid needs one more player to take California's place or the spiders will take over the bedroom, rent free.

Next kid: "Pittsburgh" was drafted in the late rounds last year, offered minimal money and returned to school for his last year. The money was not worth giving up his scholarship to perhaps make it to the big leagues. So, he returned to school, had a great year, and will go higher in the draft.

Three other players have been watched, but they will probably go much lower meaning they will not be given much money and will have to work harder to make it. Two of the players are underclassmen and if they are drafted too low, they will probably return to school, hone their craft, and if healthy, be drafted next year (like Pittsburgh).

On to Buddy's Ohio team....there are two guys who will probably be drafted as pitchers. The one player had a tremendous year at this fourth school in four years. he failed out of the first three....yikes....The second player was on television this year and looked amazing as he threw his fast ball. He's tall, athletic, and is a good prospect.

How do I know these things? I have been hanging out at stadiums for years, kept my mouth shut, and ears open. Occasionally Buddy will share information with me and I put the pieces together. I am going to keep my fingers crossed for these guys. They have played year round, trained, gone to school (except for one of them) and deserve at least an opportunity to prove themselves.

When people look at the players, I don't think that they realize how hard they work. For example, Buddy spends two hours at PT three times a week. he comes home and continues to rehab (as I watched him with the bands last night). Then he goes to the gym 6 days a week for another two hours of cardio and leg/core work. He runs to the bakery four-five times a week and collapses into bed. it's a crazy existence for a young man whose friends do not understand why he not available to sit on the beach and drink beer with them. But he is going to do his very best to make it. I support him 100% of the way. However, there are days when I worry that all of this is for a good physique and he will not get the chance to try out for the pros. it's scary....but big dreams usually are...the real scary part is if you sit back and do not do your best to make it...then you are left with regrets and 'what-ifs'.

And so, tonight, dad and Buddy will hit the turnpike and attend a minor league game. Coach T is scheduled to pitch. This is a moment that the big leftie has waited for since he started working out with him. Coach T is largely responsible for Buddy's success. He has been his mentor and coach. He also has a soft spot in his heart for my son. Coach T is so close to making it to the 'bigs' that he can taste it. I pray that one day soon, he can achieve his ultimate goal...even for one season...the hard work and sacrifice will have been well worth the effort.

Have a great day!