Good morning! It's an early day as the big guy left the house to pick up Lil A, buy her breakfast, and babysit before he heads to the bakery. In the meantime, he plans to bring her to the Y so he can work out. Good thing, Lil A loves her big cousin, otherwise, this story would end in some angry feelings and a phone call for me to bail her out.
And so, it happened....Yes, it happened. The coaches resigned.
Why? Hmmmm.....could it be the failed drug tests, the dismal records, the record number of injuries, or the complete apathy and chaos in the dug out? Or, do they want to take time, reflect, and spend time in the inner cities helping little kids with their batting stances......Was it mutual? One sided? Were they fired? let go? Encouraged strongly to find another profession?
I don't know nor do I want to know.
With that said, this could be a blessing or a curse. As dad said: "the devil that you know is often better than the one that you don't know...." Huh?
I guess he means that you have no idea who is coming next, what his policies will be, or how he will revamp the team. All I know is that the big guy is going to the Pitching Doctor next week for a month. He continues to work out with his physical therapist, and is regaining his flexibility.
As far as I am concerned, I will sit back, listen, observe, and keep my mouth shut. No advice....thoughts....ideas....comments (except for this blog). Life will continue as is......beginning now.....
Good morning! The US Golf Open is over and I feel a bit bad for Phil M. However, after watching most of his play, he had opportunity after opportunity to pull away and was unable to do it. Did he choke? Hmmmm...good question.
Here is my take on it. This guy and the others are the top of the profession. They would not have gotten there if they choked or let their nerves get the best of them. Yet, I can't help but think that each one of them are still human beings who think and feel like the rest of us. Therefore, perhaps nerves did get the best of him. Only he can respond to it and I hope that he has an excellent sports psychologist as his private masseuse massages his arm and back while he sips Dom Perignon on his
private plane.
I am my own shrink and can tell you that I talk to myself all the time. When under stress, I talk aloud. There are times when I am driving with Tink and talk to myself. She'll say: "stressed?" And with that, I realize that my inner musings are being heard by my daughter. Hopefully she cannot follow my crazy brain and psuedo-rants.
Ok, on to the big kid. What's he up to? Well, he is also trying his body out with yoga. He, like me, is not ready for hot yoga, but I am going back. I am not going to fail at this one. It's a challenge and I am going to try to overcome it. My plan is to do 50% of the maneuvers today and work my way up to 90%. I have eliminated curling on my back with my palms on the floor and my stomach is in the air. First of all, the yoga instructor does not need to look at my red contorted face as I try to place my body in a position where it can freeze or snap my spine.
And second, I just don't get why this position is so important. I like my arms and back the way they are and they do not need to be extended over my head in a position ready for the gymnastics team. I will leave that up to the Fab Five.
And there is absolutely nothing that will change my mind. I wouldn't even do it for $50,000....perhaps I would think about it for $100,000.....and definitely mull it over for $1,000,000, but I will absolutely go on record and say...the over the head crab walk is best left to the crabs.
And now, it is time for me to get to work. My classes will not teach themselves, although there are times when my students say......
Hi! I'm back! Sorry about the hole in the daily posts, but I honestly had nothing to write until today. By the way, Happy Father's Day to all especially my pop. Yep, he taught me to ride a bike, read, and work hard. Between BP Grandmom and Grandpop, you can blame them for how I turned out.
Happy day, big guy...love you lots! By the way, BP Grandpop is 86 this year....very impressive.
How is the other big guy? Welllll, I think that his identity was stolen. After we received a call from a collection agency about his cable bill in Arkansas, I put 2+2 together and screeched: "Identity....stolen.....ahhhh...."
So, we can deal with this issue and figure out how to fix it before he is wanted by the police and FBI. If I see his picture in the post office when I buy stamps, then I will know that the identity thief has gone too far. Am I worried? Yes...no....I actually do not know what it means or how to fix it. So my ignorance is my solace.
He has been pushing it at the bakery trying to work two months of time in one month since he leaves on June 30. According to a recent article on the pitching doctor (whose ranch he is going to), he develops velocity and promotes arm health, control, and command. After hitting 8 batters this year, these guys make take up a collection to send him there to hone his command. Perhaps after he finishes at the ranch, they will be safer in the batter's box. In the past he has broken an ankle and
wrist with his fast ball and wayward pitches.
By the way, did you read that a major league pitcher was taken off the diamond on a stretcher after being hit by a line drive? Even in the pros, this can happen...to which I say: "Why?" Why would anyone want to be on a field throwing a ball at 90 miles per hour to a guy who is built like a tank and can crank the ball past the pitcher at 150 mph? I have to say...they are all crazy...demented....nutso....what possesses them to do this? I actually have no idea, but I keep my rosary very close to me while he pitches. After all, he was hit in his freshman year as the ball threw his body backwards on the field.
Let me tell you, no parent wants to see this...ever...I still see his hat and head flying backwards....Is he crazy? The answer is "yes." Am I crazy to watch and fund this dream? The answer is "uh uh".
But I have to say...it's his dream....ever since he was four years old...holding the bat...throwing the ball....singing the song by John Fogerty:
Well, beat the drum and hold the phone - the sun came out today!
We're born again, there's new grass on the field.
A-roundin' third, and headed for home, it's a brown-eyed handsome man;
Anyone can understand the way I feel.
Oh, put me in, Coach - I'm ready to play today;
Put me in, Coach - I'm ready to play today;
Look at me, I can be Centerfield.
Well, I spent some time in the Mudville Nine, watchin' it from the bench;
You know I took some lumps when the Mighty Casey struck out.
So Say Hey Willie, tell Ty Cobb and Joe DiMaggio;
Don't say "it ain't so", you know the time is now.
Yeah! I got it, I got it!
Got a beat-up glove, a homemade bat, and brand-new pair of shoes;
You know I think it's time to give this game a ride.
Just to hit the ball and touch 'em all - a moment in the sun;
It's gone and you can tell that one goodbye!
Good morning! I am a bit sore today....why....wellllll.....
Yesterday, Tink and I decided to go to 'hot yoga'....I was told that they turn the temperature in the room up so that you perspire more. Thinking that I could tolerate a little heat, I was game....so off we went with a bottle of water.....late, as usual....
As we snuck into a class that was already in session, I unrolled my mat and to my horror, the only spot left available was in the front of the room. Sneaking a look around, I knew that I was not in the aqua zumba class. These women were lean, mean, and serene.....Me? Well.....it took all of 60 seconds for the perspiration to begin to drip from my body. As I tried the maneuvers that turn the yog-ee into a pretzel, I began to slip off my mat since it was so wet. Even the poor instructor, Katherine, had to help me contort my body into the proper positions.
As the class went on and on and on....I started feeling not only blazing hot, but exhausted, dehydrated, and queasy. Katherine walked over to me and started moving my hips and back into a more aligned position; it was at this point that I almost threw up over her nicely toned and evenly stretched body. Fortunately, I did not projectile vomit my morning Cheerios and I felt that this was a victory for the old lady. In a foggy stupor, I knew that I had to do something quick to alleviate the nausea and facilitate a better stretch to keep the instructor away from me, so I decided to use guided imagery to calm my nerves and stomach. So, in my mind, I focused on something round and red with cheese on it. Yep, pizza was my focus....and it worked. My stomach and nerves settled and I was able to finish the hour just slipping one or two more times on my mat. When the lights were turned back on, I looked at myself in the exercise mirror and was astonished to see a middle aged woman with her short hair sticking out in various sections, looking like she had stuck her finger in a light socket, and her body completely soaked with sweat. All in all....it was not very pretty....
Rolling up my mat, I thanked Katherine for her patient treatment of her special needs client and went home to have a slice of pizza. On our way out the door, she mentioned that if I have pain the next day, I should stretch....uh huh....stretch as I reach for the Motrin, aleeve, ice packs, and vodka....
On to the big kid....he absolutely is going to the pitching doctor in Houston on July 1st. Until then, he will rehab with his physical therapist and be the butt of jokes in the gym. It seems that therapists remember some of his bakery stories from last summer. My former therapist Tank laughs when he sees him especially remembering when he made the little Asian girl cry because he forgot to put her cupcake into the bag. her very angry mother (who could have benefited from guided imagery) called the bakery and gave the phone to the little girl as she wept into it.
When telling her that he would give her two more cupcakes, the mother said that they were not coming back but she wanted him to know how his ineptitude caused angst in a four year old....There are some things that make people smile, and this makes Tank crack a grin and fall into hysterics....yep, all in all, it was a not-so-wonderful memory. I'll tell you this...since then, he has never forgotten to put the cupcakes into the bags. You learn by experience.....
Time for me to prepare for class tonight. Enjoy the day!
