The sofa....it ain't over

Hi! I just got back from the beach after spending a few relaxing and chaotic days with the family. How can relaxation and chaos be merged? Well, if you know the family, you would understand. We were at the beach, on the porch, eating, drinking, walking, and watching the activity. With lots of kids in one house, there is something always going on....some one falls, cries, spills something, gets into trouble, makes us laugh, and so on and on.

Big Sis, Tink and I headed to beach yoga at sunset one night. Boy, was that relaxing....then we got back to the house....




But on the whole, I would not have traded it for anything except a few days at the Ritz Carlton with my personal masseuse, Sven massaging the shoulders and the crick in my neck.

I did hear from the big kid although he has been somewhat silent since the big announcement that he was in a relationship was posted on Facebook. I guess his 'friend' listens to his angst and tirades post games. Although, he did share that the team blew a 9 run lead the other night. And last night, they were tied 1-1 in the 9th when one of the best hitters in the league was at bat. According to the lefty, the batter owned him in the early season, but once he figured him out, he has been able to strike him out in the most recent games. Therefore, he shared the 'secret' pitching combination to the pitching coach who was calling the pitches....give him 2 curve balls down the middle.....then come at him with a fast ball at the hands...he will swing and miss......

True enough...he had the pitcher throw 2 curve balls over the plate for 0-2 count. Rather than listening to the big guy's advice, he had the pitcher throw another curve over the plate and boom.....the batter hit the ball squarely into the outfield...run scores....they lose the game.

Hmmmm....does this powerful knowledge translate into something that could possibly earn this guy  a living or financial independence? I believe the answer is 'no.' He does not want to be a pitching coach. He does not want to coach at all. He wants to pitch in the major leagues and that is that!



The other night, he threw for 8 innings, gave up two walks, 2 runs, 9 strike outs, 92 mph. Out of 108 pitches, he threw 78 strikes which is an excellent percentage. It seems that he is in the zone....which leads me to the plans....yes, plans.....

I am flying out on Sunday morning to watch his Sunday night start. That's right. I have a ticket for St. Louis. I leave early in the morning and will join him later in the day. I will see a game, darn it. Although, it is the second to the last game of the season, I can go on record and say that I will witness the game....and maybe....just maybe....catch a glimpse of the lady who has stolen his heart....maybe...we will see.

Ok, if you have been reading the blog, you know that we have been on the guy's butt about the sofa being left in the apartment. After countless emails, texts, and conversations, the final day of July has arrived.......where is the $@7%** sofa?

Well, it is still in the apartment. He spoke to the landlord who will move it and the other items (huh! What other items?) into  storage for a fee. According to the big kid: "This way, I don't have to worry about it anymore."

Worry? You were worried? Really? Complacency is worry for you? Ignoring your parents' pleas is worry? Seriously?

Astonished, I asked what the 'fee' was for the landlord to move the sofa and other stuff into storage...."Uh, I don't know. But it isn't much."

Really? You don't know, but assume that this is going to be a $5.00 venture? Are you out of your mind? You have had three flipping months to clean this place out! With all due respect and unconditional love, for your feeble minded information....the landlord is going to take the deposit and charge us for the storage....this could be several hundred if not a thousand dollars! What do you have? A money tree in the back yard? 'Cause I don't. Mine died 22 years ago.....just sayin'

Ah, the joys....and joys....and joys of family......



I gotta go...my blood pressure has risen to crisis point and I have to crack into a bottle of something....either advil or better yet...it's 5 o'clock somewhere......Or maybe.....I am going to head  to my deserted island....located in my mind.....

Be your own advocate

Good morning! It's a quick post since I have an all day educational workshop where I will escape around 2 ish to make the game on time. Let them try to keep me there. I am not so essential that I am needed until the bitter end, so I plot where I am going to sit and when I will take my leave.

The game starts at 3:45 pm and the local crowd will be in abundance. With the big guy's local start there is lots of enthusiasm since most people cannot make it to the team's home games due to the distance. Last year, the team played locally and they had a snow delay...ah the joys of playing ball in the northeast. Today, we expect some showers but the game will be played.

 

I must admit that I am calmer than I have been in the previous starts because I know that he can handle the pressure. He wants it. He has prepared for it. And he is a bit nasty when he is pitching. My little Catholic school boy has quite a salty mouth and a saltier attitude toward batters when he is out there. I just choose not to listen to his mouth as he tosses the ball trying to mow the opposing player down. He did call to complain about this morning's 'lift'. "Why should I lift if I am starting?" OK, so, just tell the guy that you are not going to pick up a weight. Geez...advocate for yourself, dude!

With that said, I have to get going and at least be on time for this workshop on something or other....zzzzzzz......

Peace!

Bleacher Creatures

Good morning! I am so glad that this semester is finally over. After a frantic 2 am phone call the other night, the dust has settled and it seems the big guy is closer to an actual college degree. All he needs is to pass accounting and complete an internship. For some reason, he continues to think that if he ignores it, the requirement will go away. Doesn't he know that academics do not work like that? If wishing earned a person a degree, the entire world would have one.



By the way, he can actually attend the graduation ceremonies this weekend, but will not. Why? He doesn't want to since he had a game. He did not order a cap and gown, did not get his photo taken for the year book...nothing. Am I disappointed? Well, if you know my kid, you know that the ceremony is meaningless to him. Pomp and circumstances does not hold meaning for him. When he reflects upon his time at this university, he will not look back on graduation and smile, 'cause he won't be there. I am cool with it. It is one less ceremony to attend since I have been witness to 50 plus graduation ceremonies over the years. We will celebrate when he actually finishes school and it will not be this year.



Anyway, after the weekend start, more information has come forth. For example, when he was pulled out of Sunday's game after tossing 100 pitches, the batter who was in the box at the time asked the catcher, why they were pulling him. The guy admitted that the team could not figure out how to hit his pitches. This is indeed high praise and exactly what happened. They fouled off so many balls, he had the team perplexed, but in order to preserve his arm, he was taken out....then the wheels came off the wagon and the other pitchers lost the game.

Nonetheless, there were other stories...such as when he gave up his only true run in the first inning. The catcher walked out to him and promised him that he would score in the next inning and he would tie the game. Well, true to the spoken word, the catcher got on base and ran his heart out and tied the game. When he ran to the dugout to his pitcher, he screamed "I told you that I would do it. I told you!" He was so excited and the big lefty thanked him profusely.





Now here is where it got strange and offensive....after the game, the Czar was screaming at the team and said: "You all make fun of Squat (the catcher). Do you see how hard he works?"

And with that, they took the long trip back to campus.

Two days later Squat texted the big kid and said:

"I have been thinking about this for 2 days. Do the guys really make fun of me?"

Honestly. That is what came out of the stupid comment made by the Czar post game. He humiliated and embarrassed Squat. Wanting to share the reality of the dug out with his catcher, the big kid texted back...."You are quirky, like me. The guys don't know how to take us, so they laugh. They like you."

And with that, I am pretty confident that this reply may have helped a bit. But can you imagine how bad Squat felt as he ruminated about the Czar's idiotic words?

There were also some good things that happened. We had a conversation about how respectful the crowd was during the game and how they did not bring the pitcher's mother into their bantering. What do I mean?

Well, with the smart phones, people are able to access almost anything on the Internet. For example, they can retrieve a batter's batting average, the name of his parents, his major, and even the family pet's name. And so, the big guy shared with me what hecklers had yelled at him over the years. By the way, I was roaring with laughter in Costco as I waited for one of the rotisserie chickens....

 
"Hey, big lefty....you.....look at us.....your parents don't love you..."

"You were adopted...."

"We killed Diva dog...."

They made fun of his name, height, high school, and Delaware.....

When they actually mentioned Diva's name, the big kid laughed wondering where they would get this information. But gang, it is all there on the Internet. We have no idea what is out there, but it is. And the  "Bleacher Creatures" get as much ammunition as they can to interrupt a player's concentration. You see it worse in major league parks. During one Phillies game, I almost hit the guy behind me (yep, I was so peeved). He was screaming at an opposing player and using profanity to describe the player's wife. We were 6 rows from the field and player. I had two teens with me and was not pleased. The guy was eventually tossed, but I was so close to using profanity myself. What the man said was disgusting. I won't repeat it, but it was bad.

Anyway. this is all I have today to report. I have lots to do and several meetings to attend at work later.

With that said, I am off to really begin my day and hopefully accomplish all of my goals.

Peace!

Sunday Starter: Hostile and cool environment

Cinco de Mayo! Time for a taco or five....just sayin'...love when they are made correctly with the Mexican flair and not out of the box like the Ortega flair....

Sooooo......First, may I say that I am tired? No? Fine!

Here we go....on Saturday morning after the usual Friday night post game phone call, we made the executive decision to take the corporate jet to Nebraska to watch the kid's start against a powerhouse. Yes. the company jet...we all have one, right? My company's name is Delta....so, everything was contingent upon finding good airfare and flight times that were conducive to getting us to Nebraska by 11 am Sunday morning.....

And so, with great diligence, dad found a nice price for the tickets to Kansas City, a Hampton Inn located in St. Joseph's, MO, a rental car, and the map to Nebraska.



In less than 24 hours, we left the house, traveled through 5 states, made the game, left after the fourth inning (more about that later), drove back to Kansas City



....ran to catch a flight that brought us to Detroit then home. In the planning, if one thing went wrong, we would either miss the plane and connections or the game. Fingers, toes and eyes were crossed as we boarded plane number one.....



As fate would have it, we made it to the windy, cold stadium as they sang the National Anthem. Whew!



What I could not believe was that my sense of temperature was way off and the light sweat shirt that I wore was not enough to watch this game. In fact, it was frigid as the wind blew across the plains....oh man, it was cold...the wind was not to be believed. I was looking to buy a blanket, but there were none for sale. I could have picked up a team sweatshirt, but I am a homer and cannot wear the opposing team's colors.



The wind whipped...the stadium was packed! I could not get a seat so I had to stand. Mind you, this is a college baseball game, but in Nebraska where football is king, obviously college baseball is the queen, because the 5000 seat arena was sold out. So, I stood in a corner...shivering....waiting...then he appeared. Oh my gosh....it is a Sunday start....wow! He did it. He fought...battled....prayed...hoped and it was finally here. And we were there to witness it. Or were we?

When I looked for dad, he was no where near me? Uh, didn't we just drive three hours, had two connecting flights, and ran to make it to this start. Where was he?

I'll tell ya....he was pacing on the concrete and not really able to watch it. Huh? Salty and often aggressive dad who runs his own company, tells people to 'get over it' and works 24/7 could not stand still to watch his boy pitch in his first Sunday start? What the heck?

Now I really know....this guy is a softie. He gives off the old "I don't give a hoot about anything" but if you psychologically create a profile on him, he is a teddy bear on the inside as he could feel the tension and only wanted to see his son succeed and be happy.

Don't I want these things? Yea, of course, but somehow, he is unable to watch and keep his emotions in check, so he paced and only looked at the scoreboard. Am I in another time zone? Is this the outer limits? End of time? When I asked if he wanted to eat something since we did not have time for breakfast, the response was 'no'. Giving up food? Too nervous to eat? I am not sure that he is the road warrior that I need to join me on these adventures. No Skittles...hot dogs....granola bars....bottled water....nothing....just pace and freeze....



With that said....the kid took the mound. I could not have been more happy for him. In fact, I stood in a corner with my camera and rosary and watched everything from the breathing to the stretching to each and every strike and ball pitched. I lived and died with my son as he pitched in front of 5000 people wearing red, screaming, applauding, shouting, cussing, and so on. The stadium was electric. This is what he has been waiting for all his life....and yet...his performance fell a bit short of his expectations....

Got to run to the Y...I will finish this post when I return.

Sunday starter

Good morning! The baseball team and I lost in a big way yesterday. First, let's go to my tennis match.....

I erroneously thought that I had more skills and talents than I do. In fact, when a person does not use certain muscles on a consistent basis, these aforesaid muscles begin to atrophy. Not me! I say....Oh yeah...me. The arm started to hurt yesterday as much as my ego as we went down in flames.....not even competitive. We squeaked out 2 games...lost fast....looked for the pub afterwards.....Actually, I settled for a couple of frozen Drake's Yodels that were in the freezer....not a pinot....but better....

On to the game....they lost...big...bigger.....really big. They actually scored three runs but still lost by 10. After the game, the Czar "Fresno-ed" a freshman player and told him that he was a mentally weak ^&$((#. Uh huh...then he asked Hawk where he was playing ball next year, because it was not going to be for his team. Nice...motivational...very Vince Lombardi....Rather than working with the guys to cheer them and say: "We are going to kick butt tomorrow," he again threatens them.



I believe that this will have the opposite effect since none of the guys have the Czar's back and he had best watch it, because the outgoing players will have a great deal to share with the Athletic Director. Once again, I pose the question: "Isn't a coach in college supposed to be a teacher?" How many teachers, besides bad ones (Oh, Sister Mary Assumption Victory Joseph-ish) scold their players to the point of tears. Yes, that is the reaction that is needed to motivate a person to do better.



When the big lefty was a little lefty, he was playing in a little league game and the coach continued to scream at him: "Throw strikes for Gosh sakes!" Huh? That's what he is supposed to do....he gets it now. He is supposed to throw strikes. I get it. Perhaps before the next game, I will remind him that the goal is to throw the ball across the plate, in case he forgot! Of course, he knows tho throw strikes. Doesn't the coach think that he was trying? The same goes for Hawk. it was a big game in a bigger venue and the kid is 18 years old. Rather than scolding him, give the kid a break and work with him and tell him that he now has some terrific experience and will be better on the mound the next time. Rather than making him feel better, which is almost impossible after a horrific outing. He is humiliated and called out in the team huddle.



Are we feeling the love yet?

Uh, no.....no love here.....



Except....

After the post game phone call from the big kid, dad looked up air fare and we are headed to Nebraska tomorrow. It seems that the Sunday pitcher "TBA" is actually the big lefty. Yeah...nice. So, dad and I are on the road traveling to KC then driving to Lincoln. We will be back after the game on Sunday. Yep, I am a road warrior. I think that dad was a bit sad that he had missed so many starts that he has now joined the 1000 mile club. Welcome, I can use a companion since Tink is working so much.

Just a quick note....on Wednesday, the kid was interviewed by one of his journalism friends for the paper. The question was posed: "How do you feel about pitching against such a superior hitting team." Rather than answering the question the way he wanted to, he just replied that he will take it one pitch at a time. What he really wanted to say was "Shouldn't they be worried about facing me?" Now that, my friend, is confidence....

Go team!

Gotta pack!