8.31.2006

Seriously?!

As if corporate America isn't going corrupt enough ...

...Now this is what our world is coming to?

RadioShack Fires 400 Employees by E-Mail

8.23.2006

You can't always get what you want

So we got new soda machines in our office today ...

After lunch, in need of some pick-me-up and a good Mountain Dew, I sauntered to the break room and surveyed the new choices.

Hmm. We now have bottles of Diet Coke and Aquafina for $1. But everything else is still 50-cent cans. Oh, and yep, they still have Mountain Dew. Great!

So I insert my $1 bill and punch the Mountain Dew button. Out comes my 50 cents in change. And I reach for ...

... a bottle of Diet Coke!? Are you serious!?

... I took it out to the newsroom and drew a good laugh from my podmates. And then an offer to buy it from me. ... Sold!

... And back I went to the break room for another try.

... OK. I'm not going to hit the Mountain Dew button again. Maybe I can get a Pepsi.

... So I insert my two quarters and out comes ...

... a bottle of Aquafina!?! Come on!?!?!

... I returned to the newsroom, this time drawing a bigger laugh ... and proceeded to drink my water.


* * *

From SI's morning call ...

Children are crying all across New England today. The Red Sox lost their sixth straight game last night, an excruciating 4-3 defeat to the Angels in the first game of a nine-game road trip. The result comes on the heels of a five-game sweep by the Yankees, who lost 6-5 in Seattle when Adrian Beltre hit a walk-off home run leading off the bottom of the ninth. While Boston fans are crying-the Red Sox' losing streak is their longest since a nine-game drought from Aug. 25-Sept. 4, 2001-the Angels are on a roll. L.A. cut Oakland's AL West lead to four games and improved to a season-best eight games over .500. The only hope for the Red Sox, who are a miserable 6-15 this month, looks to be the wild card. They remained four games behind the White Sox and 31/2 games behind Minnesota. Last night's loss hurt one Red Sox fan more than most. Yesterday was Carl Yastrzemski's 67th birthday.

... And not only is Red Sox Nation suffering. The Cubs lost tonight. The Tigers lost tonight. ... At least the Brewers won.

It figures the Tigers lost. After all SI put them on the cover this week. ... If the Tigers don't at least make the World Series, I'm blaming it all on Sports Illustrated.

... Grrrrrrrr ...

8.21.2006

I'm still here ...

Sorry for the lack of updates lately … It seems I’ve been consumed with baseball (both watching and playing it) and computer problems, on top of having a string of bad luck that just hasn’t put me in much of a mood for blogging …

But I do have new posts in the works … so keep checking back …

* * *

In the meantime, I will share this with you today …

I spent another day in the Windy City (yes, today was one of the days I could say ‘I love my job …’). As always, I took that relaxing train ride into the Loop, joined the city dwellers -- iPods in our ears, and grooving to music, er, podcasts -- and walked some of my favorite streets.
But the task of the day was reviewing one of the latest exhibits to hit the Museum of Science & Industry, ‘Frogs: A Chorus of Colors.’

Wow. Who knew a bunch of frogs could be so exciting!?!

This exhibit boasts more than 150 live! frogs from 15 different countries in a wide array of dazzling colors, shapes and sizes. It’s truly amazing and eye-catching stuff. … On top of that, there’s a load of interactive exhibits and activities -- do a virtual dissection of a frog, use cameras to zoom in and get a close-up of various frogs, conduct a chorus of frog calls, compare your long jump to that of a frog, play frog trivia, and watch some seriously amusing and comical National Geographic videos of frogs in their natural habitats …

Of all the museum exhibits I’ve been lucky to see in the last year, I gotta say this was one of my favorites. Highly recommended if you’re in the area!

* * *

So remember that ‘string of bad luck’ I referred to? (Story of my summer. No. Story of my year. One of these days I’ll write a whole post about that too …) …

… Leaving for the museum this morning and trying to catch my train, I was running a little late. Of course, when I got to the train station, the parking lot was full. Fine. I drove around the entire lot twice and found no available spots. But I had to park somewhere -- my train was due to leave any minute. So I parked in an open space, although it wasn’t a marked parking spot. No big deal, I thought, I’ve seen a ton of other people do it, and I’ve done it a couple times. I threw my parking pass on the dashboard and jogged to get my boarding pass and get on the train …

Lo and behold, when I returned to my car late this afternoon, there’s not one, but two! parking tickets attached to my windshield. The city had given me a $25 ticket for parking in an unmarked space and a $5 ticket for leaving my parking pass UPSIDE DOWN on my dashboard.

Oh. My. Gosh.

I was speechless. At the absurdity of it all.

$5 for leaving my friggin’ parking pass upside down.

Ugh.

And as if I hadn’t had enough excitement today, I had to make a speedy trek home to grab the city water bill that was due today, and Kates and I had yet to pay. I figured I would be home mid-afternoon, in plenty of time to pay the bill and do some errands. Instead, I spent more time at the museum than I’d planned, and I didn’t pull into our driveway until about 4:20 -- 10 minutes before the municipal building was set to close.

I ran inside our house, grabbed the bill, and then drove ‘quickly’ to the municipal building. I pulled into the parking lot there at exactly 4:30, and ran to the front doors.

The building wasn’t locked yet. There’s still time.
Walked down the hall. The light at the payment desk is still on. We’re still good.
Get to the counter. The clerk’s still there. … ‘Can I pay this quick?’

‘ I just logged off my computer?’

‘Oh.’

She starts it back up. Yes!

Two minutes later the bill was paid. Thank you.

Maybe my luck’s starting to change …

8.20.2006

Game #15: The party's over

It was rarely pretty, and often ugly. But I did have some fun. And now my debut season -- the regular season, at least -- with the MSBL, is over. The playoffs are in a couple weeks, but it’s
OK. I don’t expect my team to go far …

My team, the Sox, ended the season tonight with another loss, and finished the season with a record of 1-13-1 … Actually tonight I was playing for the team that beat the Sox, but more on that later …

I’ll begin where I left off -- with me being given away to another team that didn’t have enough players and sinking a season-low in confidence. My batting was suffering, and I continued to have problems in the field … So when returned to play on the Sunday the 13th, I was resigned to the idea of relaxing and just having fun. I knew there were only three games left to play in the season. I saw no sense in continuing to beat myself up over the my less-than-perfect play.

Turns out it worked. I finished the season strong, going a combined 5-for-9 in the last three games; I showed I was capable of playing the field too and even got a couple inquiries about my services for next year…

And tonight was a blissfully bittersweet ending to all of it.

It was the same story when I arrived at the field tonight. As usual, I was one of the first players to report, and promptly began warming up with anyone who would take me. Then I went with a few of the guys to practice hitting in the batting cages. Knowing all about my troubles hitting the curve ball, Ange threw me a good mix of curves and fastballs. But when I did get myself into a habit of waiting on the curve, I was forgetting about the fastball and swinging late on it …

When I returned to the Sox dugout and the game was about to start, Coach called me over and said he was sending me to the opposing team again because they didn’t have enough players. So me and Jimmy, another player who also had been neglected and under-used this season, went to the other team, which also reeled in a couple players who had played in another game and were still hanging around the stadium …

‘Where d’you play?’ the new coach asked me when I stepped inside the dugout.

‘Anywhere you want to put me,’ I said.

‘I’m thinking about center field.’

‘Great!’

… But that wasn’t the only good news. I was now playing for the best team in the league, and once again, Jarvis was on the mound. He mowed down just about every Sox batter he faced, which meant the three of us in the outfield didn’t touch the ball all night …

In the meantime, I was batting sixth in the lineup and got my first at-bat with two outs in the second. As I strode to the plate, Ange, who was playing third immediately went to the mound and was no doubt reminding the pitcher about my struggles with the curve.

‘No love,’ the umpire said, knowing all about my situation with the Sox.

‘There’s been no love all season long with this team,’ I said.

‘So now you gotta step up there and pop one,’ he said.

That’s just what I was hoping …

… So I swung at the first good pitch I saw. And popped it up foul along the first base side. The pitcher ran into to catch it, I was out.

But the second time was the charm.

Once again, I was swinging at the first good pitch I saw, and this time, I got it. I launched a deep, deep ball to left field, and as I jogged toward first base, it looked like it might carry. But the left field caught up with it and made the catch -- on the warning track. As I stopped midway between second and first, the second baseman turned and looked at me with a dropped jaw. I just looked back at him and shrugged like Michael Jordan after he hit all those three-pointers in Game One of the NBA Finals years ago …

After taking first on a walk during my third at-bat, I tried stealing second on the first pitch, but was sent back when the batter fouled off the pitch.

‘Dang, now you trying to steal second on us,’ Marcus, the second baseman said. ‘Are you mad at us or something for giving you to the other team?’

‘Marcus, I’ve been trying to tell you guys all season that I can play,’ I snarled. ‘ You guys keep casting me off to the other teams, I’m gonna show you I can play …”

So I stole second on the next pitch. I would go to single and score in my final two at-bats and the team I was now playing for clobbered those pitiful Sox. Exchanging high fives and smiles with the winning team afterward came down as a defining moment of the season while the bickering continued in the losing dugout.

‘Do they always fight like that?’ one of the guys asked me.

‘Oh yeah. It’s the worst team chemistry you’ve ever seen over there.’

I’m not gonna lie. I shook hands with my former teammates, and then met Kates and gloated about the game all the way to the car …

What a season it’s been …

a Game one ... we lost, 19-9.
a Game two ... we lost, 11-5 ... or something like that.
a Game three ... we lost, 8-5
a Game four ... we won! 10-8.
a Game five ... back to losing.
a Games six, seven, eight, nine and 10 ... all losses.
a Game 11 ... another loss.
a Game 12 ... Call it a tie
a Game 13 ... I went 1-for-3 with a single and two strikeouts. After singling, I got moved over to third on a pair of singles. And then scored on a mighty grand slam by our solid-hitting second baseman -- it was by far the highlight of our season as a team. The slam gave us a 7-5 lead, but do you think we held it? Nah. ... we lost something like 11-7 ...
a Game 14 ... I went 2-for-2 with two nice singles, both at the hands of Jarvis. What a gas ...

8.19.2006

Rain kings

... the rain didn't stop and it didn't stop us.

... The Counting Crows and Goo Goo Dolls were in Chicago last night. Tad and Jen flew in. We'd been awaiting and talking about this night for months.

I'd show you pictures. But I'm still beating myself about losing my camera the other night at the Brewers game ...

... Kates and I left work early, packed our rain gear, hopped in the car and cruised to Steve & Emily's house in the north suburbs, where Tad and Jenn were waiting. Emily had tasty snacks on the table -- good thing, there was no time for supper -- and the six of us, as usual, had quite the time catching up, venting about work, swapping old high school stories and, well, laughing. A lot.

... Too bad we had to leave Steve and Em behind, but they'd already had their concert fun this week. They saw the Dixie Chicks on Tuesday night ... luckies.

'Say hi to Mr. Jones for me,' Em said as we were leaving.

'Yep. Mr. Jones, Mrs. Potter, Maria and the whole gang,' I said.

And off we went, crossing through the outskirts of Chicago into the south suburbs. Fighting the rain and our hunger, we made a pit stop at a Taco Bell joint, and hit the road again, wolfing down our food in the car ...

We arrived at the amphitheatre with barely a minute to spare. We'd already missed the first act.

We packed our belongings, flung on our rain gear, grabbed the blankets and trudged through the puddles flooding the gravel parking lot. Talk about a lovely night for a concert ...

Inside the amphitheatre, the crowd was buzzing. And the amphitheatre itself was like a concert palace -- a monstrous, steel roof over the reserved seating area, glitzy VIP boxes, large screen monitors at every view, tons of vendors and expansive lawn seating ... Unfortunately our tickets had us in the lawn seating, and that's because I refused to pay much more than $40 per ticket ...

I led the way up a staircase to the lawn and we cut over to an open spot without even realizing the Goo Goo Dolls were taking the stage. A moment later they exploded into their current hit, "Stay With You." I pumped my fist in the air and snuck a look at Tad. Neither of us had a care in the world; we were in summer bliss ...

The rain barely stopped and the Dolls played hit after hit after hit -- "Slide" (one of my favorite Goo Goo Dolls songs ...), "Iris," "Broadway," "January Friend," "Black Balloon" (another one of faves...), "Name" (a sentimental favorite that reminds me of my high school days ...) and new stuff "Better Days" and "Let Love In." But just when I thought they'd played all I needed to hear, the Dolls whipped out their wondeful take on Supertramp's "Give A Little Bit."... All the while I couldn't help but notice the group of teenagers standing next to us who were hanging on every word the Dolls sang.

For our group, though, the show was only beginning ... A few minutes later, the tide would change. It was our group hanging on every word the Counting Crows sang, while the Doll-heads next to us mumbled about not knowing enough of the Crows songs ...

Just when we thought the rain was subsiding, Adam Duritz, his crazy hair and the Crows emerged on the stage and launched the opening drum beats of "Anna Begins." Again, I screamed in excitement, pumped my fists in the air and huddled close to Kates, knowing "Anna Begins" is her favorite Crows song ... but she was slower in recognizing it.

" ... My friend assures me/it's all or nothing/I am not worried/I am not overly concerned ..." Duritz sang. Finally, Kates burst into a smile -- she had recognized the song -- and we swayed and sang to it the way we've done hundreds of times in the car ... But none of those times could beat the feeling of actually singing the emotion-packed lyrics and "rain falls down" under an actual pouring rain ...

... From there, the band rolled into a sweet, rousing "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby," a Crows song I've loved from the first moment I heard it, and it may have been my favorite song of the night. Then a crowd-raising "Omaha" and the fabulous "Monkey" ...

The show started to drag a bit with the slower, whiny "Time And Time Again." It picked up a little with the worn-out "Big Yellow Taxi." ... But things really started to drag when the Crows pulled out their extended, rambling version of "Round Here." It blew me away the first time I saw the Crows during the Satelites tour, but I've heard recordings of it several times since and on Friday night it seemed to only bore the crowd ...

The Crows kept the mood low-key, though, with an acoustic of "Mr. Jones," the lesser known "Miami" and then "A Long December." They played one more upbeat one with "Hangin' Around" and then ended the night on "Holiday In Spain" -- a good "ender" indeed ...

So, yeah, I was a little dissappointed they didn't play "Rain King," given the circumstances and the fact it is my favorite Crows song. Also missing was the big "Shrek" hit "Accidentally in Love" ...

But looking back on the entire show? I wasn't dissappointed at all ... It was like a Holiday in the Rain.

Chocolate anyone?

The AP version of a story I wrote yesterday ...

It's all over the Internet this morning ...

And believe me, there were jokes abound about the poor guy in our office yesterday as the facts of the story were coming out ...

Man Trapped Waist-Deep in Chocolate

8.18.2006

More than just a loss

... Kates and I were up at Miller Park last night, thanks to my friend Joe who had a couple extra tickets to the Brewers-Astros game ...

... Though now, I'm kind of wishing we hadn't gone at all ...

We had foul weather all afternoon, and it wasn't until late yesterday afternoon that Joe alerted me to the tickets. And by the time I got home from work at about 5, and Kates arrived home from school and a full day of preparing her classroom, both of us were worn out. The last thing we wanted to do was drive up to Milwaukee in the rain, through rush hour/stadium traffic to go to a ballgame ...

But we decided perhaps a night at the ballpark would be a fun excursion instead of a lazy night at home. So off we went ...

We got to the stadium a little late and found our seats in the upper deck, behind home plate, midway through the bottom half of the first inning. Though the game was hardly memorable, Ben Sheets pitched for the Brewers, Craig Biggio was hit by a pitch to extend his record and the Brewers lost 7-3. ... And Kates and and I settled on a possible name if and when we have a daughter ...

When the game was over, we put on our jackets and joyfully exited the stadium ...

... We were halfway to the car -- which is like crossing an ocean at Miller Park -- when I realized I had forgotten my camera at my seat. My heart sank, I left Kates and ran back to the stadium. By this time, security staff was closing down the stadium and nobody was being allowed back inside. All I could do was hand my ticket stub to a security person who then radioed up to somebody near the area where we were sitting ...

Nope. No camera. ... They gave me a phone number I could call and sent me on my way.

Today, I've left two messages with the customer relations staff and received no answer. If they haven't found it by now, it's gone.

sigh.

My digital camera. My beloved Canon digital camera that Kates gave to me as a Christmas gift four years ago. It had seen better days, and the lens wasn't working very well anymore, but it had served me valiantly, been on dozens of trips and excursions, taken hundreds of brilliant photos. It was a sturdy camera ...

I beat myself about it all the way home and I'm sure I'll continue to whine about it for days. How could I be so careless!?! ... At the ballpark, I had it strapped over my shoulder and set it on the seat next to me with my jacket. At one point I even looked at it and told myself, DO NOT forget that camera when you leave. I really should put it back over my shoulder so I don't forget it. There was another time when Kates and I were returning home on a flight and I left it on the plane. Luckily the flight staff found it and, after they matched it with my ticket ID, I was called to the terminal desk to retrieve it before I'd even noticed it was missing. Nope, it'll be OK. I won't leave without it this time.

But I did leave without it. And now it's gone.

8.15.2006

Life in a nutshell

I’ve been on a Chicago rampage lately. And by that I mean, listening to the band Chicago. The good stuff from the 70s. Not the cheesy love crap they put out these days.

I’m not sure why, but I had a sudden urge to listen to some of their stuff last week. I pulled out some of the vinyls I’d picked up this summer, and jammed to them, nearly non-stop for the duration of the weekend.

Few bands. No, no bands, have pulled off that brass rock sound the way Chicago did. That finale of “Beginnings,” a raucous brass instrumental typically reserved for a drum and bugle corps. And “Make Me Smile” and that thumping melody. And “25 or 6 to 4” with that great guitar solo, which has me singing ‘wow-a-wow-a-wow-a-wow-wow’ with it every time.

Thanks Dad, for handing down your love of Chicago to me.

* * *

We’re still waiting on our lawnmower to get repaired …

I took the darn thing to the shop almost a month ago …

Luckily our front yard is shaded enough that the grass barely grows …

Our back yard on the other hand is starting to look like an Amazon jungle.

Seriously. How long does it take to fix a lawn mower!? …

* * *

Again neglecting to go to bed at a decent time a couple weeks ago, and defying all sleep patterns, Kates and I were flipping channels and caught 'Switched At Birth' on one of the movie channels ...

Talk about a blast from the past ...

I remembered watching this made-for-TV movie when it first aired in the early '90s. I had to have been like 10 or 11. Really, I was barely old enough to understand it then; it was my parents who I remembered being so enthralled in the story. After all, those were the days, it seems, when TV movies actually had substance and were about current events, not globe-devastating earthquakes or killer insect invasions...

Yes, 'Switched At Birth,' the story of Kimberly Mays and the court fight that followed when two Florida couples discovered their daughters had been switched by hospital staff shortly after their births in 1978.

For some reason, it[s a movie that has always stayed with me. While I was amazed at how much of the movie I remembered -- specific lines and scenes, even -- Kates and I couldn't help from laughing at the cheesy acting and music that shrouded it all now.

The most fun might have been discovering all of the familiar faces in it. Bonnie Bedelia, Kelli Williams, Ed Asner ... And Alyson Hannigan!?! Alyson Hannigan! played one of the Twigg sisters in 'Switched At Birth' ... Unbelievable.

Fun, fun, fun.

* * *
While we're on the subject of movies ...

Kates and I finally got around to a couple more new DVD releases over the weekend ...

First up, 'Meet the Fockers' ... if you haven't seen 'Meet the Parents,' definitely see it first. ... And with Barbara Streisand and Dustin Hoffman playing Ben Stiller's parents, er, Mr. and Mrs. Focker, the humor is 10 times sweeter ... good stuff.

The second was 'Failure to Launch.' Now, when I mentioned this one to my friend Liz -- the ultimate movie aficionado -- she moaned, 'Oh, that's terrible!' Thus, my expectations were lowered considerably as we sat down to watch ... but we actually enjoyed the film. I can take or leave Matthew McConaughey's southern drawl, but Sarah Jessica Parker is as adorable as they come these days. Still, while it was cute -- and Terry Bradshaw and Kathy Bates were as funny as could be -- I didn't enjoy the main storyline between McConaughey's Tripp and Parker's Paula as much as I did the sub plot surrounding Paula's quirky roommate Kit (played with the hilarious deadpanning of Zooey Deschanel).

Good stuff.

* * *

I shook hands with a true hall of famer on Saturday. The great Bob Feller. Nice guy.

As he was signing autographs and posing with fans for pictures, I came away with an autographed ball, a photo and a picture with him ...
But the most entertaining part may have been the spoiled, geeky kid in line with me, Corey, who rambled NON-stop about the zillions of autographs he’d collected during the last two years.
At first it was just plain annoying. He stepped into the line behind me and began conversing with a more personable, Italian father-son combo in front of me. They found common ground talking about their respective autograph collections, but Corey seemed relentless in trying to prove he was the superior.

‘So what’s your best autograph?’

‘How many do you have?’

‘How long have you been collecting?’

‘What sports do you collect?’

Seriously. His voice sounded like Sesame Street’s Bert.

But after awhile, their conversation became sort of entertaining -- because the more personable kid -- I think he said his name was Jamie -- kept winning the battles. Muhammad Ali was Jamie’s best autograph. Shot Corey down in a blaze of glory.

Almost feeling sorry for Corey, the Italian father -- who came across as one of the nicest, most patient men in the world -- started taking Corey off the subject of autographs. He asked Corey if he played sports, had any friends, what he liked to do. To none of our surprise -- Corey said he didn’t play any sports, he stayed inside a lot and didn’t have any friends. “I’m a social reject,” he said with so much confidence and acceptance it was truly sad.

“My mom wants me to be in drama club,” Corey said.

“Well you should,” the father replied. “You could make some friends that way.”

Corey just looked away. A second or two passed. And then for the umpteenth time he bursts into song: ‘Spotlight on James Brown now.’ There was an uncomfortable silence every time he did it. Finally he supplemented his outburst with, ‘I can’t get that line out of my head. I heard it on the radio this morning and I have no idea what song it is, I’ve never heard it before. … the song mentions Wilson Pickett too.’

“It’s ‘Sweet Soul Music.’ Arthur Conley” I muttered under my breath. Jamie -- the Italian kid -- read my lips though, and flashed me a smile and nod in concurrence. It came up later in the conversation that he was a fan of classic rock and oldies also.

But that would be the end of the entertaining part of The Corey Show. Sooner than later, we were within a few feet of getting Bob Feller’s signature and Corey, who had slipped ahead of me in line and was on his way to skipping in front of the Italian father-son, was back to being downright annoying. … He was now complaining about how long it was taking to get through the line (where we’d been for barely a half hour, far less than some of the other autograph lines I’ve stood in for lesser-known stars) and he hardly seemed grateful for his mother, who he mentioned drove him an hour and a half to the card shop where Feller was signing, the same mother who was sitting outside in their car and came into the card shop for a few moments to make sure he was doing OK and hand him a wad of cash.

Finally, Corey got face-to-face with Feller, got his four autographs, even told him how to sign the baseballs and asked the old man where he keeps his World Series ring.

Poor, Bob.

With Corey out of the way, it was my turn with the great. Feller graciously engaged me in conversation and was even more gracious signing a baseball and then inscribing a photo for me. His signatures couldn’t have been better, and to top it off he posed with me for a picture.

8.09.2006

A happy ending for Dodger blue?

From Sports Illustrated's Morning Call ...
Everyone knows that Tinseltown is a sucker for a comeback story. Thought to be dead less than two weeks ago, the Dodgers won their 11th straight game last night, a 4-2 win over the Rockies, to move a half game behind the Padres in the NL West. (L.A. is also tied with the Reds for the wild-card lead.) It has been a quite a run: On July 26 the Dodgers sat 7 1/2 games behind San Diego after their 13th loss in 14 games. They enter play tonight riding their longest winning streak since 1993, four wins short of the team record (15 in a row, set in 1924). L.A. has outscored its opponents 76-27 during the streak. Last night's win was especially sweet considering it was Greg Maddux's home debut. The four-time Cy Young Award winner allowed two runs and seven hits in six innings but did not figure in the decision. Don't be surprised if adding Maddux and infielder Julio Lugo at the trading deadline produces what Tinseltown executives desire most (outside of cash): A happy ending.
Oh, how sweet that would be ... considering the Cubs sure aren't going to have one.

For more go here

Game #12

... (sigh)

I'm beat.

Another game tonight, another makeup game from the deluge of rainouts we had earlier in the season ...

... So I walked into our dugout tonight -- as usual, I was on time and one of the first players to show up, and very ready to play -- and I again said to Coach, 'I'm ready to pitch if you need me.' I warmed up with the other players as they showed up. I took batting practice in the cage. And I took a ton of fly balls from my buddy Garrett. I was felling good, looking good and darn ready to play ... I thought.

... but as we retreated to the dugout for the start of the game, Coach is still wandering around. As usual, he hasn't made up the lineup yet, and now he's moaning about not having any pitchers. All the guys he would've liked to throw were complaining about their arms being sore...

Hellooooooooooooooooooooo!

... At the same time, the opposing team only has seven guys. They need two more ... So Coach agrees to give them two players and he immediately looks at our oft-neglected catcher and who else? Me ... I packed my stuff and walked over to the other dugout.

Now there's a few things going to work in my mind ... Most of me is frustrated that I come ready to play every game, I show up on time, and I'm willing to contribute any way I can -- while my teammates are too busy whining about not playing their favorite position, it's too hot for them to play, they're hungover, or they're toenails are bugging them. ... I've never complained a wink. Until now. On this blog. And here Coach is casting me off to the other team, basically saying 'We don't care about you...' ... On the other hand, I was being sent to a team and some players that I have a lot of respect for, they've showed respect for me in return, and I've admired their camaraderie whenever we've played them. I'm thrilled for the opportunity to play and I'm jumping at the chance to show up my 'former' team ...

Problem was, I might have been too anxious.

My new coach assigned me to right field because that's where he'd always seen me. I would've rather played second, but fair enough. And I took the seventh spot in the batting order ...

My first time up, I got the first pitch in my left shoulder blade and took first base (this was just a couple batters after the pitcher beaned another guy in the head. And yes, I now have a nice, rosy bruise on my shoulder). ... Having two outs and a runner in front of me on second, the first baseman wasn't holding me on, so I took a huge lead. A few pitches later, a passed ball helped me get to second and I eventually scored on a liner into the outfield.

Then in the field, I made a key catch on a fly ball. And on another play, I gloved a ball on the hop and fired it to home to catch a runner rounding third base. The throw was right on line and it would have been a close play, but the pitcher cut it off and threw to second, forcing the runner into a rundown.

So far so good.

But on my next two at-bats I got meaty pitches right down the pipe. When I should have shot 'em into the outfield for singles, all I could muster were a pair of hard ground balls to the third base side. I was thrown out on both of them. ... and later in the field, with the game close, there was a high, deep fly ball hit in my direction. I read it well, and got back on it -- and I was backing into position to catch it on the warning track -- but it shaved the side of my glove and bounced against the fence, allowing what proved to be the winning run to score ...

In the final inning, for our last at-bats, I led off the inning and was looking for a chance to redeem myself. All we needed were a couple runners and some timely hits and the game was ours to win -- my new team's game to win, my old team's game to lose. ... I swung and missed for strike one, and then took ball two low and outside. Then, on the 1-1 pitch I got another ball over the heart of the plate, and I just missed it, popping it up to the center fielder for an out.

I rarely show my emotions on the field, and even when I do, observers probably still think it's not enough. By the end of my last at-bat, I had become so frustrated with my play I threw my helmet into the dugout from first base, and then came in and threw my glove against the wall ...

... A few batters later the game was over, ending on a pop fly to the shortstop. Shaking hands after the game with the team I used to play for nearly drove me to tears ... I wanted so badly to show 'em up tonight. And I didn't do it.

The season ... so far...
a Game one ... we lost, 19-9.
a Game two ... we lost, 11-5 ... or something like that.
a Game three ... we lost, 8-5 Game four ... we won, 10-8.
a Game four ... we won! 10-8.
a Game five ... back to losing.
a Games six, seven, eight, nine and 10 ... all losses.
a Game 11: ... another loss.

8.07.2006

Tabloid Wars!

... My new favorite Monday night activity!? ...'Tabloid Wars' on Bravo!!!

Finally, a great reality show for us journalists!! ...or as Kates calls it 'a geeky newspaper thing.' I don't know that I've ever seen another show -- or a film -- that so brilliantly, so honestly follows and depicts journalists in their every day work. Not even 'All the President's Men' strikes such a chord. It's a beautiful thing.

... Now in its third week, I haven't missed an episode and it's become a staple recording on our DVR ...

... So far we've seen our beloved Daily News and Post reporters chase stories about a race-infused beating, a couple who got married in a swimming pool, a guy who walks his pet turtle, a cop shooting and a police officer who dies in Iraq.

... and now, in this week's episode, we see the gang cover the murder of a baby-sitter, a Harry Potter book party and the hanky pany adventures of the Monsignor at St. Patrick's Cathedral ...

...which brings me to my next musing ...

Adam Lisberg is my hero! ... He's not only a smart and savvy reporter, he shows compassion and respect to the people he's writing about -- something that, unfortunately, too few reporters have these days. We saw him building a bond with the cop-soldier's family last week. This week it was with a family affected by the baby-sitter murder ... and then his lucky strike on the Monsignor leaving the restaurant was the kind of stuff every reporter lives for!!

…And Kerry Burke is just as cool. By the way, nice haircut Kerry. ... One of these days I'll cut my long mane ...

On the other hand, who’s Hudson Morgan calling a duschbag!? He’s the duschbag. Quit your whining Hud and do some real work …

Game #11

Game tonight ... Same mistakes. Same result.

... Sick of watching pitcher after pitcher throwing nothing but junk and hit everything but the strike zone, I've been trying to build my confidence and state-of-mind for the prospect of stepping back on to a pitcher's mound -- something I did on quite a few occassions during my little league days (and something I was becoming pretty decent at toward the end of my previous playing days -- or so I'd like to believe ...) ... So with some prodding from a couple other teammates, I got the courage up tonight to tell Coach before the game that I was willing to take the mound in relief if he needed me ...

He appeared to take the suggestion seriously, and I would've bet at that moment he would take me up on it ... he never did.

So once again, I took my perch out in right field. The good news is I started, and played the whole game ... I got one ball hit to me, a liner that dropped a few feet in front of me. I fielded it cleanly and tossed it in. The only time I touched a ball all night -- aside from warm-ups, of course.

In the batter's box, it was more of the same. ... Much of my problem is that I'm just not watching the ball all the way in. Coach moved me up to sixth in the lineup tonight -- the highest I've batted this year -- but I didn't give him much reason to keep me there.

... My first time up, I swung at the first pitch -- a fast ball right down the middle -- and missed it. I swung and missed the second pitch as well, and was quickly down 0-2. But I wasn't going down easy. I hung in there, getting ball one, high, and ball two, low and away, and fouled off a couple pitches. But the guy eventually got me on a nasty change up, and I was walking back to the dugout ...

In the meantime, some timely hitting by the rest of our lineup and some decent defense kept us somewhat in the game... In the fourth, I stepped to the batter's box with one out and a runner on first. I took ball one, high, and then swung at the second pitch, hitting a soft roller to the right side of the infield and getting thrown out at first. I had sacrificed the lead runner from first to second, although I nearly beat out the throw to first too ... I was kept in, however, as a pinch runner for the guy I had just sacrificed over to second -- you can do that in our league, if the runner is a catcher, pitcher, or just plain bad baserunner ... so, with two outs now, I took a big lead from second and watched the batter do his own battle with the pitcher, fouling pitch after pitch. Eventually, he popped one into shallow centerfield, and by the time it dropped, I was already rounding third and heading home to score ... nice.

That was as good as it would get though. Down six runs, we started taking our at-bats in the bottom half of the last inning (it was getting too dark to play ...). One after one, we were hitting hard liners into the outfield and ground balls back up the middle. Guys were scoring. Suddenly, we were within a couple runs and had a runner on second -- with two outs -- when one of our guys hit a hard shot through the hole on the right side. ... Runner scores from second, but the batter -- who must've momentarily lost his mind -- tries to extend his easy single into a double and got absolutely canned at second base.

Last out. Game over. We lose by one.

What a crock.

Here's the rest of the games ...

8.06.2006

Who killed the electric car!?

Veeeeeeeeeee-ry interesting.

Go to http://www.sonyclassics.com/whokilledtheelectriccar/electric.html

Click on the Trailer link at the bottom of the page.

Sunday reading ... and relaxing

... Nothing like a lazy, rainy Sunday afternoon -- and some good baseball -- to ease your mind ... With our lawn mower still in the fix-it shop, combined with some rather unhospitable weather, my usual weekend yard puttering has been shut down -- forcing me to relax like I haven't in a long, long time ...

First, the baseball. So I discovered earlier this week, by accident, how to use the picture-in-picture feature on our TV. Whoah nelly, am I having fun now!! ... Now, on all those nights where I have three, four baseball games to choose from on the tube, I've got a way to watch at least two of them at the same time ... With the Brewers-Cards, Cubs-Pirates and Mets-Phillies all on yesterday, I took advantage of it and didn't move an inch from the couch for like four hours. ... And now we're doing it again! The rain falling outside has canceled our plans to partake in some of the community activities today, so here Kates and I sit, reading our books, newspapers and magazines, sprawled out in front of our big picture windows ... and on the TV, of course, the Cubs-Pirates and the Reds-Pirates ...

To prove that we aren't just merely a couple of bums who sit around watching baseball, we did get out last night to Prairie Family Days. Had mongo plates of Mexican Food. Took one of the free pontoon boat rides. Walked around the lake. And joked about all the teenie boppers beginning to congregate as the sun set ... I was most excited, however, to hear Wingspan -- a highly-touted Wings tribute band from Chicago -- but when they took too long to get through their sound checks and started 45 minutes late, eventually opening with a terribly loud, blown-out song to which no one could've possibly understood the vocals, Kates and I got up and walked away ...

We got home in time to catch the Saturday Night Live re-run featuring Natalie Portman -- in my opinion, the best and funniest of the season ... which is probably why NBC re-ran it ...

... And now, I'm presenting to you another edition of some of my favorite reads from this past week ...

Film ...
a Oliver Stone's 9/11 is a Tale of Courage ... I'll admit I was a little skeptical at first, but the more I read and see of this one, the more intrigued I am. I talked on here before about my fascination with 9/11. What's more, this film has it's own tragic story and it has an appeal to all ages...
a It Pays to Be a Print Journalist -- in Films

Techy stuff ...
a Why Wiki Can Drive You Wacky ... I've said it before and I'll say it again: Wikipedia is one the best, coolest sites on the Web. It's just too bad pranksters, politicans and vandals are so amused by wrecking it ... although Stephen Colbert's little prank was funny, I'll admit -- but it also goes to show how relentless and careful the Wiki-people are about their site ...
a Downloading firm settles global suits ... And another one bites the dust. I never thought I'd say this five years ago, but thanks iTunes for making us realize legal downloading can be just as fun ...

Music ...
a Marie Claire Editor, Readers Lash Out At Ashlee Simpson ... I don't care what kind of nose she has, to me, she's always seemed fake and too concerned about her image ...
a A Backstage Pass to Intimate Moments in Rock's Odyssey ... a downright fascinating read.
a MTV won't say how old it is (but it's 25) ... I still wish they would just play music.

Sporting news ...
a ESPN Should Return to Its Roots: Broadcasting Sports ... Can I get an amen!?! E$PN (as I saw it written on another blog today ...) seems to be growing further out of touch with its fans every time I turn it on ...
a Rodriguez's sloppy defense hurts Yanks ... The Yankees are getting what they deserve.
a It's still mostly downhill for Cubs' Wood, Prior ... Nothing shocking here. And as much as it hurts this Cubs die-hard to say, I'm not surprised either. With all the hype that surrounded both of them coming up, I laughed everytime someone inferred they were future hall of famers ... I hate it when the sports people do that. Now, Wood's career is as good as over with the Cubs, and unless Prior starts winning he'll be right behind ...
a It's time to tell all, for everyone ... Seriously. As if it's not breaking my heart enough to see the steroid news coming out now about the guys I idolized all through the 90s, I see today that McGwire is refusing to cooperate with MLB's investigation. These guys just don't get it; they're only making it worse by not talking ...
a This Artist Doesn't Paint by Numbers ... Lucky number or not, Maddux waz amazing the other night. It sucked to see him leave Chicago, but, hey, I still have my soft spot for the Dodgers, too! Go Dodgers!!
a A Decade Ahead of the Rest ... and just for kicks, I'm throwing in this one which I stumbled across while perusing the Post archives. It's a good read -- about the days when the Yankees actually won respectably, and not by simply paying top dollar to top talent ...

Life in general ...
a Are You a Toxic Parent? ...lessons in parenting.
a Daughter, Can You Spare a Dime? ... a great, funny read from the Post's Joel Achenbach. If only I had been so smart ...

8.03.2006

An office survival guide

My friend Trisha sent this to me ... Enjoy reading it while I go wipe the tears from my eyes from laughing so hard ...

We've all been there but don't like to admit it. As much as we try to convince ourselves otherwise, the WORK POOP is inevitable. For those who hate pooping at work, following is the Survival Guide for taking a dump at work.

CROP DUSTING: When farting, you walk briskly around the office so the smell is not in your area and everyone else gets a whiff but doesn't know where it came from. Be careful when you do this. Do not stop until the full fart has been expelled. Walk an extra 30 feet to make sure the smell has left your pants.

FLY BY: This is the act of scouting out a bathroom before pooping. Walk in and check for other poopers. If there are others in the bathroom, leave and come back again. Be careful not to become a FREQUENT FLYER. People may become suspicious if they catch you constantly going into the bathroom.

ESCAPEE: This is a fart that slips out while taking a leak at the urinal or forcing a poop in a stall. This is usually accompanied by a sudden wave of embarrassment. If you release an escapee, do not acknowledge it. Pretend it did not happen. If you are standing next to the farter in the urinal, pretend you did not hear it. No one likes an escapee. It is uncomfortable for all involved. Making a joke or laughing makes both parties feel uneasy.

JAILBREAK: When forcing a poop, several farts slip out at a machine gun pace. This is usually a side effect of diarrhea or a hangover. If this should happen, do not panic. Remain in the stall until everyone has left the bathroom to spare everyone the awkwardness of what just occurred.

COURTESY FLUSH: The act of flushing the toilet the instant the poop hits the water. This reduces the amount of air time the poop has to stink up the bathroom. This can help you avoid being caught doing the WALK OF SHAME.

WALK OF SHAME: Walking from the stall, to the sink, to the door after you have just stunk the bathroom. This can be a very uncomfortable moment if someone walks in and busts you. As with farts, it is best to pretend that the smell does not exist. This very uncomfortable walk can be avoided with the use of the COURTESY FLUSH.

OUT OF THE CLOSET POOPER: This is a colleague who poops at work and is damn proud of it. You will often see an Out Of The Closet Pooper enter the bathroom with a newspaper or magazine under his or her arm. Always look around the office for the Out Of The Closet Pooper before entering the bathroom.

THE POOPING FRIENDS NETWORK (P.F.N): A group of co-workers who band together to ensure emergency pooping goes off without incident. This group can help you to monitor the hereabouts of Out Of The Closet Poopers, and identify SAFE HAVENS.

SAFE HAVENS: A Safe Haven is a seldom-used bathroom somewhere in the building where you can least expect visitors. Try floors that are predominantly of the opposite sex. This will reduce the odds of a pooper of your sex entering the bathroom.

TURD BURGLAR: This is someone who does not realize that you are in the stall and tries to force the door open. This is one of the most shocking and vulnerable moments that can occur when taking a poop at work If this occurs, remain in the stall until the Turd Burglar leaves. This way you will avoid all uncomfortable eye contact.

CAMO-COUGH: A phony cough that alerts all new entrants into the bathroom that you are in a stall is called a Camo-Cough. This can be used to cover-up a WATERMELON, or to alert potential Turd Burglars. The Camo-Cough is very effective when used in
conjunction with an ASTAIRE.


ASTAIRE: A subtle toe-tap that is used to alert potential Turd Burglars that you are occupying a stall. This will remove all doubt that the stall is occupied. If you hear an Astaire, leave the bathroom immediately so the pooper can poop in peace.

WATERMELON: A watermelon is a big poop that creates a loud splash when hitting the toilet water. This is also an embarrassing incident. If you feel a Watermelon coming on, create a diversion. See CAMO-COUGH.

HAVANA OMELET: A case of diarrhea that creates a series of loud splashes in the toilet water. Often accompanied by an Escapee. Try using a Camo-Cough with an Astaire.

UNCLE TODD: An Uncle Todd is a bathroom user who seems to linger around forever. This person could spend extended lengths of time in front of the mirror or sitting on the pot. An Uncle Todd makes it difficult to relax while on the crapper, as you should always wait to poop when the bathroom is empty. This benefits you as well as other bathroom attendees.

8.02.2006

Yeah, we're still playin'

... It's been awhile since I've written anything about the men's baseball league I'm playing in this summer. There's a couple reasons for that: 1) We suck ... pretty bad. And 2) Summer got in the way. There was Summerfest, and rain that canceled games, and days that were so flat out beautiful that I would much rather be outside then waste time rambling about a couple amateur baseball games on some barely-read blog ...

So tonight -- as Kates and I wait for the rain to come our way, and we flip the TV channels between the Cubs-D-backs game on WGN and the Cards-Phils game on ESPN (what else would I be watching on a summer week night!?) -- here I am ...

... You see, because the league is in just its first year and I didn't come in with a pre-made team, I basically got thrown on to a team of misfits with no chemistry or common ground. Heck, I discovered one of the guys I play with is a felon ( ... apparently he got dealing cocaine and marijuana a couple times. Ah, the power of the press and public records ...). All the while -- as I tried to shed the rust from not playing competitively in 10 years, and I knew darn well I wasn't playing to the ability I'm capable of -- I spent a lot of the time on the bench as other guys showed up late to games, or came to games hungover and still got to start. I also was a little peeved when I realized a lot of the guys I was playing with and against were well under 25, going against the rule set when the league was organized. ... I realize now, the younger guys were allowed in the league to boost some of the rosters and teams, and build a foundation for the future of the league. But still... what a crock.

... and at the same time, we kept losing. And losing. Badly. I was close to submitting a request to the league president for an offseason trade.

... as of tonight, though, I gotta say things are looking up -- a little bit. I'm playing a lot more -- the other night I started and played all nine innings, doing the first four in right field, moving to second base for a couple, and then playing the remainder in left field. And I'm making contact when I get to the plate, even while the pitching has been pretty darn good.

... last night, even though we lost again, might have been our best effort as a team and our most fundamentally-sound game thus far. It might even be safe to say the team is, dare I say, gelling. Suddenly there seems to be a lot more support for the guys in the batter's box or on the pitcher's mound. There's more chatter in the dugout. And the handshakes at the end of the game are more genuine ...

So yeah. We're getting there ...

The season ... so far...
a Game one ... we lost, 19-9.
a Game two ... we lost, 11-5 ... or something like that.
a Game three ... we lost, 8-5 Game four ... we won, 10-8.
a Game four ... we won! 10-8.
a Game five ... back to losing.

a Game six ... we lost. I struck out twice in this game, but what was more nerve-racking was starting on the bench while our center fielder (who has some of the best natural ability in the league but lolligags like there's no tomorrow) didn't show up to the game until the second inning, eventually fell asleep on the bench and had a little tiff with the umpires (he took a Gatorade from their cooler and refused to put it back when they asked politely), before going into left field midway through the game. ... So it was a little bittersweet an inning or so later when Coach sent me to center field. As I ran past the scorned player in left and he suggested he should be playing his usual position in center, I ran right past him, without a word ...

a Game seven ... we lost. Nope, we got creamed. ... In this one, I walked twice. During my second stint on the basepaths, the batter slapped a ground ball to the right side and I ran safely from first to second base. But I rounded second, not realizing the runner had been called safe at first base. Before I knew it, I was caught in a pickle between second and third, and quickly became the third out ... But more maddening, once again, was sitting on the bench for the first half while our second baseman started and played the entire game, um, terribly hungover. Everybody knew it. Players even suggested he shouldn't be playing. Yet Coach still played him, even while I'm more than willing and capable of playing second base. Instead, I had to settle again, for playing the last three innings in right.

a Game eight ... we lost again. Worst yet. The other team scored at least 20 runs, and by the time the seventh rolled around I was waiting for Coach to walk up to the umpires and forfeit. ... Although this one might have been the turning point of the season, if there was one. As I spent my time on the bench and kept the scorebook (... nobody else on our team knows how to do the books. You're playing hard ball for God sakes, you should know how to keep a scorebook ...), the other few bench players were lamenting their lack of playing time, including one guy -- we'll call him Joe -- who claimed he was recruited for his pitching ability. So when Coach went to the mound to make a pitching change and didn't call Joe's number, well, Joe went balistic, throwing his mitt to the ground and yelling that he was quitting. He was packing his bags and getting ready to leave when Coach saw him and called him to the mound to save face. But let's just say, we probably would've been better off if Joe had indeed left. He couldn't find the plate. He walked 'em round and round, and even hit three batters. So much that for the first time this season, the umpires invoked our league's mercy rule (a team can only score 10 runs in an inning...) ... I did, however, play an inning in center field and then played the last three innings at second base (after our starting second baseman took himself out because he had rocks in his shoes and his toenails were too long ... true story. Go figure.) And I even slapped a nice line drive to right field for a single ...

a Game nine ... we lost. Really badly ... who cares what the score was though, we had fun just marveling at the talent on the field ... This one was a makeup game we played under the lights at the former home of the city's long-gone minor league baseball team. Although, it felt like we were playing a bunch of pros too. Playing for the opponents was Jarvis Brown -- a former major leaguer with a 1991 World Series ring to boot -- who caked one over the left field fence, a rainbow shot that you could tell was gone the moment it hit his bat. On top of that, the guy on the mound was throwing some of the hardest heat I've ever seen up close. This guy finished the game with something like 15 strikeouts (including two from me) and was pitching a three-hit shutout in the ninth when our best base runner finally got on with a walk. To no one's surprise, our base runner quickly stole second, and then made something happen by getting into a pickle between second and third, which he, as usual, bounced his way out of and landed safely at third. And then! refusing to settle for being shut out, he immediately took off for home when the pitcher and catcher turned their backs to him. He scored standing up, giving us our only run, and we all jumped out of the dugout to greet him ...

a Game ten ... we lost, something like 8-7. ... Perhaps the best game we've played all year, though. We hung with the opponent the entire game, swapping the lead with them a couple times. I started and played the whole game in right field. Meanwhile at the plate, I battled to get a walk in the third inning and struck out in the sixth (thanks to a couple of fat pitches I should've wallopped but whiffed at instead ...). Then in the eighth, with us down by the one run, and one out, I blooped a single into center field. Knowing the top of the order was coming up, I decided to play conservatively on the basepaths and stayed put on first base. I watched as the next batter struck out for the second out, and the top of the order came up. Sure enough, the next batter doubled to left, and I ended up on third base. Then the fourth batter of the inning slapped a hard shot to the third baseman. I took off, running toward home, scoring the tying run -- or so I thought. Turns out the runner behind me tried to take third -- when he might've been able to keep the inning going by staying at second -- and was tagged out. ...

... And for the record -- if my calculations and notes are right -- I’m batting .230 with three singles, six strikeouts, five walks, three runs scored and two sacrifice bunts.

It hasn't been pretty. But playin' and that's all that matters.

Why bother?

... So I'm watching my evening news (this is a fascinating little read ...) and I just saw a commercial for this.

Interesting.

... But I'll be sticking with my sleek little cell phone for talking only, thank you. And my iPod for listening to my own music collection.

... I don't understand it. Just give me the phone for talking. Don't gook it all up with these other features and charge me $200 for features I'm never going to use ...

...Then again, I didn't understand the reasonsing for putting CD players in cars, when the radio always suited me just fine ... until I got a car with a CD player.

* * *

Back to the news ...

...Has anyone else been wondering if those prophecies about the end of the world are finally coming true?

Let's see ... we've faced 100-degree heat for, well, the month of July. Gas prices are still skyrocketing, along with interest rates and the adjustable rate mortgages. Fighthing is still out of control in the Middle East. And now the media is telling us to watch out for Hurricane Chris ...