Sunday, October 31, 2004
Halloween Nostalgia
It's tough to identify the exact age when Halloween loses its magic, but for me, I think it was around the age of 15 or 16. Before that, it seemed like a huge, fun holiday. I thought about my costume with great excitement, and planned for weeks beforehand. As I got older, my costumes got more and more elaborate - one year I was a microwave, and the next I was a Pac-Man machine. An unfortunately side effect of these costumes was that they became heavier and heavier, as I toted around pounds upon pounds of lumber and cardboard.
Around the time I entered high school, I was officially too old to go trick-or-treating. Instead, my brother, father, and our friend Pat decided to devise a diabolical scheme to scare other trick-or-treaters. The first plan was a tried-and-true one. We had my father dress up as a scarecrow, and sit motionless on the porch, with his hand in the candy bowl. We left a sign up that said "Please take one". As trick-or-treaters walked up, he'd grab their hand, or say something, and usually completely freak them out. It was a ton of fun, and my dad did a great job at appearing like a real scarecrow - complete with overalls, and a shirt stuffed with hay. It was especially gratifying when no-good punk kids tried to take more than one piece of candy, and then nearly peed themselves when my dad called them on it.
The following year, we tried to be a bit more clever, and we cut a hole in the bottom of the candy bowl and in the top of a table, and had someone put their hand up through the hole, and grab the hands of people as they reached for candy. We encountered less success with this plan, although I do recall that a couple of people did completely freak out when they got their hand grabbed.
The final year (probably my junior year in high school, if memory serves me), was the weakest one. We tried to string up a dummy on the porch and have it so that as people reached for the candy, we'd shut the lights off on the porch and the dummy would start moving towards them on a pulley. That failed miserably, as we really didn't design the pulley too well, and it didn't move fast enough to really scare anyone. I think we also had someone wait in my parents' van and jump out as people passed by, but that was pretty lame. Eventually, I think we actually moved to have someone in a trash can at the end of the driveway, and jump out at people there, but that didn't work well, either. Although I do recall that the highlight of that night was when Pat was in the trash can, and my dad and brother and I taped the can shut and started wheeling him down the street, while he was screaming at us to let him out. Very amusing.
But, since those thrilling times, I really haven't gotten into Halloween. We haven't really had a lot of trick-or-treaters come by since I graduated from college. I wonder if it has to do with the neighborhood, or if trick-or-treating is dying off around the country. Dammit, pollsters, why can't you find out answers to useful questions, like the percentage of trick-or-treaters over the past 10 years? At any rate, I hope you had an enjoyable Halloween, whatever you did. Ok, ok, I'll get back in the spirit: Boo!
Around the time I entered high school, I was officially too old to go trick-or-treating. Instead, my brother, father, and our friend Pat decided to devise a diabolical scheme to scare other trick-or-treaters. The first plan was a tried-and-true one. We had my father dress up as a scarecrow, and sit motionless on the porch, with his hand in the candy bowl. We left a sign up that said "Please take one". As trick-or-treaters walked up, he'd grab their hand, or say something, and usually completely freak them out. It was a ton of fun, and my dad did a great job at appearing like a real scarecrow - complete with overalls, and a shirt stuffed with hay. It was especially gratifying when no-good punk kids tried to take more than one piece of candy, and then nearly peed themselves when my dad called them on it.
The following year, we tried to be a bit more clever, and we cut a hole in the bottom of the candy bowl and in the top of a table, and had someone put their hand up through the hole, and grab the hands of people as they reached for candy. We encountered less success with this plan, although I do recall that a couple of people did completely freak out when they got their hand grabbed.
The final year (probably my junior year in high school, if memory serves me), was the weakest one. We tried to string up a dummy on the porch and have it so that as people reached for the candy, we'd shut the lights off on the porch and the dummy would start moving towards them on a pulley. That failed miserably, as we really didn't design the pulley too well, and it didn't move fast enough to really scare anyone. I think we also had someone wait in my parents' van and jump out as people passed by, but that was pretty lame. Eventually, I think we actually moved to have someone in a trash can at the end of the driveway, and jump out at people there, but that didn't work well, either. Although I do recall that the highlight of that night was when Pat was in the trash can, and my dad and brother and I taped the can shut and started wheeling him down the street, while he was screaming at us to let him out. Very amusing.
But, since those thrilling times, I really haven't gotten into Halloween. We haven't really had a lot of trick-or-treaters come by since I graduated from college. I wonder if it has to do with the neighborhood, or if trick-or-treating is dying off around the country. Dammit, pollsters, why can't you find out answers to useful questions, like the percentage of trick-or-treaters over the past 10 years? At any rate, I hope you had an enjoyable Halloween, whatever you did. Ok, ok, I'll get back in the spirit: Boo!
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Insanity
I really think this election is going to drive me insane. I care about it 10 times as much as I cared about the baseball playoffs (although maybe it would only have been 5 times as much if the Orioles had made it, but the anti-Yankee sentiment runs quite strong in my blood), and it's really imposing on my psyche. I think it's unhealthy, but at this point, it's out of my control. I'm checking polls multiple times per day, even though I know the polls are wildly inaccurate. I'm reading CNN.com, even though it contains the same drivel every single day. (Headline 1: "Bush claims Kerry is weak." Headline 2: "Kerry claims Bush is incompetent.") At this point, I'm trying to avoid engaging in debate with people because I know it's just going to make me angry. And I don't need to hear from you nay-sayers about why I'm a fool for caring - that's just going to make me more frustrated and angry. But I certainly do sit back from time to time and wonder if I'm just playing into this political system that really ends up benefitting no one but the top 1% in the end, and I've now bought it hook, line, and sinker. I have stayed true to my vow not to donate money to any campaign, although I am making calls for Kerry and will canvass on Saturday. But I've gone too far to turn back now. There are just 5 days left. I hope I can maintain what little semblance of rationality I have left...
Thank Goodness
I was rooting for the Cards, but I'm still glad the Red Sox won. We won't ever have to hear about the ridiculous Curse again. It had become a self-fulfilling prophesy, and it took a bunch of guys who didn't give a crap what anyone else thought and just played the game as a team to win. You may not like the Sox, but you have to respect what they did. I am a bit disappointed that this postseason really didn't bring us a whole lot of quality baseball. This is a stark comparison to last postseason, which had a ton of close, series-deciding games. Yeah, the ALCS went 7 games, but the first three games were lopsided, as the last two pretty much were as well. There were definitely exciting games, but it was rare in which both teams, in pretty much any series, were playing well at the same time. I supposed the NLCS was as close as it got.
I'm the most happy for Curt Schilling. That's a real man, right there. And not because of him playing through the pain, but because of why he played. Not for the glory (although he'll deservingly get his share), and not just for the competition, but to live up to a promise. He chose to come to the Red Sox to break the silly curse. He chose to come to beat the Yankees. He could have gone anywhere he wanted, and likely have gotten more money. Instead, he chose Boston, because of the fans, because of the history, and because of his love for the game. He made a promise to his teammates and to the entire city and he kept it through sheer force of will. That's a real man.
I'm the most happy for Curt Schilling. That's a real man, right there. And not because of him playing through the pain, but because of why he played. Not for the glory (although he'll deservingly get his share), and not just for the competition, but to live up to a promise. He chose to come to the Red Sox to break the silly curse. He chose to come to beat the Yankees. He could have gone anywhere he wanted, and likely have gotten more money. Instead, he chose Boston, because of the fans, because of the history, and because of his love for the game. He made a promise to his teammates and to the entire city and he kept it through sheer force of will. That's a real man.
Sunday, October 24, 2004
A Hat of a Different Color
A lot of the posts have been baseball-related recently - can you figure out why? Well, for a nice change of pace, this one will be fashion-related...baseball fashion, of course.
I'm going to discuss a topic that offends my core values. That topic is the growth of wrongly-colored baseball hats. "How can a hat coloring be wrong?" you naively ask. Well, because it ain't right!
Teams have particular colors - the Baltimore Orioles, for instance, are black, orange, and white. Their uniforms are always those colors, unless they're the visiting team, in which they're gray. In the past few years, we've actually witnessed a significant increase in the different uniforms a team will wear: To continue with the Orioles example, they have a normal home (white) outfit, a normal away (grey) outfit, as well as black shirts sometimes, and even orange once in a white. Then, on top of this, sometimes they'll have "turn back the clock night", and wear their outfits from the 1980s or the 1960s, or even the 1910s, when they were the St. Louis Browns and everyone seemed to be running around with a potato sack on them. It's obvious why they do this: Increased merchandising. And, frankly, as long as it doesn't veer into complete absurdity, that's fine with me. Even a cold-hearted person such as myself gets a bit nostalgic when I witness the friendly cartoon Oriole Bird on their 1980's uniforms. How I long for the days when they were a good ball team.
Regardless, there have got to be limits. And these officially licensed crimes against nature, they wrong-colored hats, have got to stop. I've seen lime green and neon yellow and sky blue Orioles hats. Oh, they have the right logo, but the color is just offensive. I was watching the World Series and saw a pink Red Sox hat. Frankly, it chills me to the bone. Let me make a comparison: How would you feel if you saw an American flag with 50 stars and 13 stripes, but it was green and black and gold? Would that be ok? Someone just decided they were sick of the ol' red, white, and blue, and maybe wanted to sell some more flags? What if they were officially licensed by the government, just to raise revenues? I think you'd probably not be too keen with that.
Teams have names and logos and colors for a reason. It's part of their history and who they are. What if the Red Sox started selling what looked like official hats, except the letter in the center wasn't a "B" - in fact, you could get whatever letter you wanted, just for your name. Would that be ok? What if the Orioles started selling hats with all different types of orange and black birds....well, let me take that back, as I can't think of any such birds. But you get my point.
I'm not much of a traditionalist. I'm not even religious, yet I do hold few things sacred, and I count the color of official baseball hats among them. Frankly, I can't even quite figure out the statement people are trying to make with the wrong-colored hats, besides "orange and black really clashed with my lime green dress I wanted to wear to the ball park." It's such a blatant money-grubbing move by Major League Baseball (well, that pretty much describes everything they do, come to think of it), and so irritating that I truly do find it offensive. If you really like a team, you'll buy their properly-colored hat, even if it means re-coloring your whole wardrobe. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to buy some orange jeans.
I'm going to discuss a topic that offends my core values. That topic is the growth of wrongly-colored baseball hats. "How can a hat coloring be wrong?" you naively ask. Well, because it ain't right!
Teams have particular colors - the Baltimore Orioles, for instance, are black, orange, and white. Their uniforms are always those colors, unless they're the visiting team, in which they're gray. In the past few years, we've actually witnessed a significant increase in the different uniforms a team will wear: To continue with the Orioles example, they have a normal home (white) outfit, a normal away (grey) outfit, as well as black shirts sometimes, and even orange once in a white. Then, on top of this, sometimes they'll have "turn back the clock night", and wear their outfits from the 1980s or the 1960s, or even the 1910s, when they were the St. Louis Browns and everyone seemed to be running around with a potato sack on them. It's obvious why they do this: Increased merchandising. And, frankly, as long as it doesn't veer into complete absurdity, that's fine with me. Even a cold-hearted person such as myself gets a bit nostalgic when I witness the friendly cartoon Oriole Bird on their 1980's uniforms. How I long for the days when they were a good ball team.
Regardless, there have got to be limits. And these officially licensed crimes against nature, they wrong-colored hats, have got to stop. I've seen lime green and neon yellow and sky blue Orioles hats. Oh, they have the right logo, but the color is just offensive. I was watching the World Series and saw a pink Red Sox hat. Frankly, it chills me to the bone. Let me make a comparison: How would you feel if you saw an American flag with 50 stars and 13 stripes, but it was green and black and gold? Would that be ok? Someone just decided they were sick of the ol' red, white, and blue, and maybe wanted to sell some more flags? What if they were officially licensed by the government, just to raise revenues? I think you'd probably not be too keen with that.
Teams have names and logos and colors for a reason. It's part of their history and who they are. What if the Red Sox started selling what looked like official hats, except the letter in the center wasn't a "B" - in fact, you could get whatever letter you wanted, just for your name. Would that be ok? What if the Orioles started selling hats with all different types of orange and black birds....well, let me take that back, as I can't think of any such birds. But you get my point.
I'm not much of a traditionalist. I'm not even religious, yet I do hold few things sacred, and I count the color of official baseball hats among them. Frankly, I can't even quite figure out the statement people are trying to make with the wrong-colored hats, besides "orange and black really clashed with my lime green dress I wanted to wear to the ball park." It's such a blatant money-grubbing move by Major League Baseball (well, that pretty much describes everything they do, come to think of it), and so irritating that I truly do find it offensive. If you really like a team, you'll buy their properly-colored hat, even if it means re-coloring your whole wardrobe. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to buy some orange jeans.
Thursday, October 21, 2004
OH MY GOD!
I am in utter disbelief right now. We're all Red Sox fans tonight. Like I said before, I'm an Orioles fan, and as such, have very little love for the Red Sox, but at least for now, it's all out the window. The Red Sox of 2004 will go down in history as one of the guttiest, toughest, most impressive teams of all time. And, more importantly (at least to me), the 2004 Yankees will go down as the biggest choke-artists of all time. It's such poetic justice. All the money, and all the bullshit mystique in the world couldn't hold down a team of true ballplayers, who loved to play the game with each other. I've seen that in Yankee teams of the past, but not in the past few years. This year's Yankee team was the epitome of just a "collection of superstars" - Sheffield from Atlanta, Vazquez from Montreal, A-Rod from Texas, Quantrill from LA, Brown from LA - all of them obtained this year just to compensate for their failure in the postseason last year, at a total price of over 180 million dollars. But this team wasn't built the proper way, and it finally caught up to them. They were sloppy at the wrong times, be it undisciplined hitting (ironically, the exact thing that almost doomed the Red Sox by causing them to lose the first two games), or a weak bullpen.
I can only imagine how much relief and vindication a Red Sox fan must feel at this point. It really has been a lifetime (or two or three) of failures and close calls and almosts for them. They came back from 0-3 against the hated Yankees, winning two games in extra innings, and finishing them off in Yankee Stadium. There were tons of subplots - Curt's ankle, Pedro's daddy, Johnny's and Mark's slumps, A-Rod's cheating, and it just all came together. Admittedly, I'm motivated by a searing hatred of the Yankees, and I think I touched on this in the last post, but it really is justice for the Yankees to finally lose in such majestic fashion. I think even if they don't win the World Series, they've slayed the dragon. No more "1918" chants - or if Sox fans still hear them, they can retort with is "2004". It was truly beautiful. We witnessed history tonight.
That said, what the Sox did is inspiring. It's going to be tough not to pull for them a bit in the World Series. Really, I'd just like to see some good baseball, although I really can't complain about the excitement level so far. Truly, we are all Red Sox fans tonight. Thank you, Boston, for keeping the faith, and putting the Yankees in their place. As a baseball fan, I am eternally grateful.
I can only imagine how much relief and vindication a Red Sox fan must feel at this point. It really has been a lifetime (or two or three) of failures and close calls and almosts for them. They came back from 0-3 against the hated Yankees, winning two games in extra innings, and finishing them off in Yankee Stadium. There were tons of subplots - Curt's ankle, Pedro's daddy, Johnny's and Mark's slumps, A-Rod's cheating, and it just all came together. Admittedly, I'm motivated by a searing hatred of the Yankees, and I think I touched on this in the last post, but it really is justice for the Yankees to finally lose in such majestic fashion. I think even if they don't win the World Series, they've slayed the dragon. No more "1918" chants - or if Sox fans still hear them, they can retort with is "2004". It was truly beautiful. We witnessed history tonight.
That said, what the Sox did is inspiring. It's going to be tough not to pull for them a bit in the World Series. Really, I'd just like to see some good baseball, although I really can't complain about the excitement level so far. Truly, we are all Red Sox fans tonight. Thank you, Boston, for keeping the faith, and putting the Yankees in their place. As a baseball fan, I am eternally grateful.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
There's Nothing Like Playoff Baseball
And I mean nothing. If you haven't enjoyed the Red Sox - Yankee Series (nevermind the NLCS), then you must not be human. If you haven't been watching it, you have Wednesday night to redeem yourself.
I'd be hard-pressed to find a baseball player I respect more than Curt Schilling. Well, an active one - Cal Ripken will always and forever be at the top of the list. But I just knew that if Curt was going to come back in, he was going to win the game. There was really no question. After his disastrous performance in Game 1, you could see him with the tears welling up in his eyes in the dugout, knowing that he not only let his team down, but an entire city. He had signed with the Red Sox to do what no one had been able to do in, I believe, a million years (approximately), which is carry Boston to a championship. He could have taken more money (although he took plenty), and he could have gone to a favorite, but instead chose to go to Boston. Now, he was leaving the Diamondbacks, who really had no hope, but it's not like Boston was a sure bet at all. That tells you what kind of a competitor he is - the hopes of a city were riding on his back.
So, when he didn't get the job done in Game 1, he didn't want to make excuses, even though he had earned the right to with his 21-6 year that got the Sox to the playoffs in the first place. I was pretty confident that if the Sox could get there, he'd find a way to return. I kind of envisioned him starting Game 7, coming out of the bullpen to the strains of "Eye of the Tiger" or something similarly cheesy, maybe like "Wild Thing" in Major League. But this was close enough.
They announced a couple of days ago that he might be able to start Game 6, and I figured that if they were going to get hopes up (maybe to fire their own team up, facing elimination already), he was going to be able to pitch. And he was not the type of guy that would insist on pitching if he knew he was going to hurt the team. No, if he was out there, he was going to pitch a gem. And that's precisely what he did. He didn't even have his best stuff. Rather, he pitches with guts and intelligence - working the corners, changing speeds, giving it his all. He gave them 7 solid innings, and only made one mistake that cost them. I don't think that athletes are really heroes, but he certainly was heroic, and quite the "gamer".
I'm not even a Red Sox fan - I'm an Orioles fan, as I've alluded to before. But I hate the Yankees and all that they stand for - I've alluded to this before as well. The reaction of the fans tonight just reinforced that belief a thousand times over. Yankee fans believe it's their divine birthright to win every single time. You can hear it in their moans when a close pitch (which is almost every pitch, to them) doesn't go their way. You can hear it when they blindly cheer a shallow popup. And you definitely could see it tonight in reaction to a couple controversial calls.
The Bellhorn homerun that hit off of a fan in the first row was definitely a nice form of justice. I'm STILL smarting from the Jeffrey Maier "home run" that Jeter hit in Game 1 of the 1996 ALCS vs. the Orioles. (You remember - punk-ass kid reached over the fence and caught a ball that was going right into Orioles right-fielder Tony Tarasco's mitt; Umpire incorrectly ruled it a home run to tie the game; Yanks win in extra-innings.) At any rate, even though it was the correct call, the Yanks fans booed. And THEN, when the umps got together to overturn the A-Rod call, correctly, I might add, the Yankees "fans" start throwing crap on the field.
Hey, guess what, Yankee fans: You don't win all the time. Particularly when you sign mercenaries like Sheffield, and overpaid, selfish punks like A-Rod, and over-the-hill hotheads like Kevin Brown. Grow up a bit. Maybe they should all read my previous post. I bet 20-30 years ago they were the tee-ball players who only hit homeruns.
I'd be hard-pressed to find a baseball player I respect more than Curt Schilling. Well, an active one - Cal Ripken will always and forever be at the top of the list. But I just knew that if Curt was going to come back in, he was going to win the game. There was really no question. After his disastrous performance in Game 1, you could see him with the tears welling up in his eyes in the dugout, knowing that he not only let his team down, but an entire city. He had signed with the Red Sox to do what no one had been able to do in, I believe, a million years (approximately), which is carry Boston to a championship. He could have taken more money (although he took plenty), and he could have gone to a favorite, but instead chose to go to Boston. Now, he was leaving the Diamondbacks, who really had no hope, but it's not like Boston was a sure bet at all. That tells you what kind of a competitor he is - the hopes of a city were riding on his back.
So, when he didn't get the job done in Game 1, he didn't want to make excuses, even though he had earned the right to with his 21-6 year that got the Sox to the playoffs in the first place. I was pretty confident that if the Sox could get there, he'd find a way to return. I kind of envisioned him starting Game 7, coming out of the bullpen to the strains of "Eye of the Tiger" or something similarly cheesy, maybe like "Wild Thing" in Major League. But this was close enough.
They announced a couple of days ago that he might be able to start Game 6, and I figured that if they were going to get hopes up (maybe to fire their own team up, facing elimination already), he was going to be able to pitch. And he was not the type of guy that would insist on pitching if he knew he was going to hurt the team. No, if he was out there, he was going to pitch a gem. And that's precisely what he did. He didn't even have his best stuff. Rather, he pitches with guts and intelligence - working the corners, changing speeds, giving it his all. He gave them 7 solid innings, and only made one mistake that cost them. I don't think that athletes are really heroes, but he certainly was heroic, and quite the "gamer".
I'm not even a Red Sox fan - I'm an Orioles fan, as I've alluded to before. But I hate the Yankees and all that they stand for - I've alluded to this before as well. The reaction of the fans tonight just reinforced that belief a thousand times over. Yankee fans believe it's their divine birthright to win every single time. You can hear it in their moans when a close pitch (which is almost every pitch, to them) doesn't go their way. You can hear it when they blindly cheer a shallow popup. And you definitely could see it tonight in reaction to a couple controversial calls.
The Bellhorn homerun that hit off of a fan in the first row was definitely a nice form of justice. I'm STILL smarting from the Jeffrey Maier "home run" that Jeter hit in Game 1 of the 1996 ALCS vs. the Orioles. (You remember - punk-ass kid reached over the fence and caught a ball that was going right into Orioles right-fielder Tony Tarasco's mitt; Umpire incorrectly ruled it a home run to tie the game; Yanks win in extra-innings.) At any rate, even though it was the correct call, the Yanks fans booed. And THEN, when the umps got together to overturn the A-Rod call, correctly, I might add, the Yankees "fans" start throwing crap on the field.
Hey, guess what, Yankee fans: You don't win all the time. Particularly when you sign mercenaries like Sheffield, and overpaid, selfish punks like A-Rod, and over-the-hill hotheads like Kevin Brown. Grow up a bit. Maybe they should all read my previous post. I bet 20-30 years ago they were the tee-ball players who only hit homeruns.
Sunday, October 17, 2004
Everybody Wins!
So, I was playing goalie in a soccer game this morning, and our team was doing pretty well. So well, in fact, that I was getting bored - no one was even coming close to shooting on me. As my mind wandered, I looked over to my left and saw a tee-ball game going on in the open field. It didn't look highly organized, but there were two games going on at once, and at least 5 kids participating in each game - and about 10 parents. It looked organized enough to be some sort of league.
Now, I recall playing tee-ball in my youth. The amusing thing about tee-ball is that, just like baseball, it has tons of rules. Hell, I know adults that don't understand the infield fly rule, nevermind five year olds. I was a big fan of baseball when I was really young, and I remember playing tee-ball with my equally prodigious friend, Jason. Because we knew the rules, we dominated! I remember playing second base and catching a line drive, then having Jason shout to me to throw it to first to double the poor kid off of first. We did, and we were heroes! Of course, we were playing with five-year olds. I remember watching my brother and his friend Pat play, and my brother would "pitch" (which involved standing where the pitcher would be, while the players hit off a tee), and Pat played first. Basically, they got everyone out, with my brother always fielding the ball and throwing it to first base. I remember learning a lot about the rules of the game then, and having a lot of fun.
Therefore, it was with more than just a hint of disdain that I watched this farce of a tee-ball game going on. Basically, kids would swing, and get to swing as many times as they wanted until they made contact. Then, the adults would engage in some bizarre dance, where they'd throw the ball to first, and the first baseman (all the fielders were adults) would flail around pretending to try to tag the kid running to first. Of course, he really only had to tag the base, but whatever. Then, when the kid had run around the first baseman, he'd throw it to second. The same thing would happen, and then the throw would go to third, and then home. At each base, the throw would arrive before the runner, but the fielder would just pretend that he couldn't catch the kid. Everyone got a homerun! Yay! I'm not sure how the inning (nevermind the game) ever ended, as, sadly, the other team had a shot on goal at about this time.
I completely understand that it's healthy for kids to play sports and for them to get their confidence up. But there are better ways to do it. Playing this farce of a sport just sets their expectations too high, and it seems pretty unhealthy to me. In sports, just like in life, people win and lose, people succeed and fail. If you set kids up to succeed every single time, when they enter the real world, they're not going to know how to handle failure gracefully. It feeds into this ridiculous myth we feed our children that they can do whatever they want to do. I'm all for optimism, but the fact is they can't always do whatever they want.
I know we'd like to believe that hard work will conquer all obstacles, and desire is more important than skill, but sometimes that just isn't the case. That doesn't mean that hard work and drive can't overcome a lot - but I'd rather have my kid fail and then realize he has to work harder than to just succeed all the time so he believes he can always succeed at whatever he tries. And sometimes, it's just not gonna happen. I'm not going to be and NFL linebacker, or an NBA center. At this point, I'm probably not going to be President or even the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Sure, I could try for some of those things, but I'm glad that I know they're virtually unreachable now, instead of thinking that I can do whatever the hell I want because I've never failed.
I know, it's just tee-ball. They didn't mean any harm. It's not going to ruin our country. But Americans are really obsessed with being number one at everything. We're definitely focused on being the best. I don't mind striving, but sometimes it's unhealthy. And it starts when you're a kid. I don't buy into the idea that if you never lose, you won't ever settle for not reaching a goal. Rather, I believe that if you never lose, you'll never learn what's really important, which is setting realistic goals, and working as hard as possible to meet them, and then trying again if you fail.
Goals? What goals!? Shit! I better go back to paying attention to the soccer game...
Now, I recall playing tee-ball in my youth. The amusing thing about tee-ball is that, just like baseball, it has tons of rules. Hell, I know adults that don't understand the infield fly rule, nevermind five year olds. I was a big fan of baseball when I was really young, and I remember playing tee-ball with my equally prodigious friend, Jason. Because we knew the rules, we dominated! I remember playing second base and catching a line drive, then having Jason shout to me to throw it to first to double the poor kid off of first. We did, and we were heroes! Of course, we were playing with five-year olds. I remember watching my brother and his friend Pat play, and my brother would "pitch" (which involved standing where the pitcher would be, while the players hit off a tee), and Pat played first. Basically, they got everyone out, with my brother always fielding the ball and throwing it to first base. I remember learning a lot about the rules of the game then, and having a lot of fun.
Therefore, it was with more than just a hint of disdain that I watched this farce of a tee-ball game going on. Basically, kids would swing, and get to swing as many times as they wanted until they made contact. Then, the adults would engage in some bizarre dance, where they'd throw the ball to first, and the first baseman (all the fielders were adults) would flail around pretending to try to tag the kid running to first. Of course, he really only had to tag the base, but whatever. Then, when the kid had run around the first baseman, he'd throw it to second. The same thing would happen, and then the throw would go to third, and then home. At each base, the throw would arrive before the runner, but the fielder would just pretend that he couldn't catch the kid. Everyone got a homerun! Yay! I'm not sure how the inning (nevermind the game) ever ended, as, sadly, the other team had a shot on goal at about this time.
I completely understand that it's healthy for kids to play sports and for them to get their confidence up. But there are better ways to do it. Playing this farce of a sport just sets their expectations too high, and it seems pretty unhealthy to me. In sports, just like in life, people win and lose, people succeed and fail. If you set kids up to succeed every single time, when they enter the real world, they're not going to know how to handle failure gracefully. It feeds into this ridiculous myth we feed our children that they can do whatever they want to do. I'm all for optimism, but the fact is they can't always do whatever they want.
I know we'd like to believe that hard work will conquer all obstacles, and desire is more important than skill, but sometimes that just isn't the case. That doesn't mean that hard work and drive can't overcome a lot - but I'd rather have my kid fail and then realize he has to work harder than to just succeed all the time so he believes he can always succeed at whatever he tries. And sometimes, it's just not gonna happen. I'm not going to be and NFL linebacker, or an NBA center. At this point, I'm probably not going to be President or even the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Sure, I could try for some of those things, but I'm glad that I know they're virtually unreachable now, instead of thinking that I can do whatever the hell I want because I've never failed.
I know, it's just tee-ball. They didn't mean any harm. It's not going to ruin our country. But Americans are really obsessed with being number one at everything. We're definitely focused on being the best. I don't mind striving, but sometimes it's unhealthy. And it starts when you're a kid. I don't buy into the idea that if you never lose, you won't ever settle for not reaching a goal. Rather, I believe that if you never lose, you'll never learn what's really important, which is setting realistic goals, and working as hard as possible to meet them, and then trying again if you fail.
Goals? What goals!? Shit! I better go back to paying attention to the soccer game...
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Counter-Programming
What utter idiot decided that not only would BOTH baseball games be on at the same time tonight, but that the debate would be tonight as well? Too often broadcasters show their utter contempt for the interests of the American public. First of all, showing both baseball games simultaneously is just moronic. I would have to say that the likely audiences for the AL and NL overlap significantly. Maybe you can argue that Red Sox and Yankees fans are too self-centered to care about the Astros and Cardinals, but I'm inclined to believe that there's a whole host of Astros and Cardinals fans who wouldn't mind witnesses the theater of the absurd that is the Red Sox - Yankees matchup. And, as for the debate, well, I think it would flat-out hilarious if Bush trounces Kerry tonight (won't happen), but no one is watching due to the baseball games. Of course, maybe there's no race in Massachusetts or New York or Texas, but there sure as heck is one in Missouri. They really should plan these things out better.
Damn It
Stupid Yankees. I'm not even a Red Sox fan and I want more than anything for them to just destroy the Yankees. But they're sure as hell not going to do it playing like that. Schilling gets a pass for all he's done, but the bullpen needs to throw first-pitch strikes. It's admirable the Sox put up a fight, but it was just too little, too late. Stupid stupid Yankees.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Electronic Love
I think I'm in love with my cell phone. Well, that's not really true. Before you get all "Dave, you're such a hypocrite" on me, let me clarify. Rather, I'm in love with the PDA part of the cell phone. It happens to also be a cell phone, which is convenient sometimes and incredibly annoying at other times. But it also functions as a MP3 player, web browser, email client, instant messenger, electronic toothbrush, and video game machine. And that makes it all well worth it.
I forget if I wrote about it, but I've always hated cell phones. The reasons are too numerous to mention. I had vowed not to ever get a cell phone, but I had to cave, mostly because my company stopped letting me check out cell phones for business travel. The benefits of cell phones for everyday use are still a bit nebulous to me, but when traveling, it's pretty obvious that they're useful to have. I've been traveling more and more for business, and it's pretty necessary to have one then. In fact, it's even more necessary when traveling for fun, and you need to meet up with a ton of people, none of whom have a central location, and whose travel plans may change. So, I pretty much had no other choice.
Most of what I assumed about cell phones has been correct. I really try not to talk on it when there are other options, and I don't really give out the number that much. I have tried to minimize its usage, because I do find that people attached to their phones are rather annoying. I will say that the biggest unanticipated benefit of it so far has been that it has gotten people to stop complaining about me having a cell phone. The benefits of this are huge. Honestly, it was like a broken record. The biggest unanticipated annoyance (on top of all of the expected annoyances) has been that once people get the number, they insist on using it, even when I'm at home. Usually, I don't even keep my cell phone in the same room as me - I don't want it to be like a ball and chain. But what happens is since people don't know where I am, they just call my cell, assuming that I've had it surgically attached to my body. So, I miss calls, and don't get the messages until later - this is definitely an unexpected problem. They need to invent a way of when you're home, you can plug your phone into the recharger, and it automatically knows to forward calls to your home phone. THAT would be grand.
But, aside from the phone functionality, it's really nice having a web browser and email client all at the same time. And, a feature that most phones have that I didn't realize it's usefulness until gaining it myself is text messaging. It's so convenient - it's not-intrusive, yet quick. If everyone had text messaging (and it was easy to use - my phone is a Treo, so it has a keyboard, unlike those phones that just have a number pad, and make typing excruciating), I don't even know if you'd need the phone capability. It's nice to be able to check baseball scores and other events, and check my email wherever I am. I've never really claimed to be a Luddite - in fact, I know that I'm addicting to being connected. That's a problem that's not going away - I believe I was part of the first generation of college students to have reliable broadband in college. And, I got hooked. Being disconnected is unbearable now. It's a dependency, but I'm not quite sure how unhealthy it is. Certainly, as time goes on, and as future generations are always connected, it's only going to get worse. At some point, there's going to be nowhere in the world that doesn't have internet access. This is frightening and comforting at the same time. But definitely more of the latter. If I'm disconnected, how can I check my fantasy baseball scores?
I forget if I wrote about it, but I've always hated cell phones. The reasons are too numerous to mention. I had vowed not to ever get a cell phone, but I had to cave, mostly because my company stopped letting me check out cell phones for business travel. The benefits of cell phones for everyday use are still a bit nebulous to me, but when traveling, it's pretty obvious that they're useful to have. I've been traveling more and more for business, and it's pretty necessary to have one then. In fact, it's even more necessary when traveling for fun, and you need to meet up with a ton of people, none of whom have a central location, and whose travel plans may change. So, I pretty much had no other choice.
Most of what I assumed about cell phones has been correct. I really try not to talk on it when there are other options, and I don't really give out the number that much. I have tried to minimize its usage, because I do find that people attached to their phones are rather annoying. I will say that the biggest unanticipated benefit of it so far has been that it has gotten people to stop complaining about me having a cell phone. The benefits of this are huge. Honestly, it was like a broken record. The biggest unanticipated annoyance (on top of all of the expected annoyances) has been that once people get the number, they insist on using it, even when I'm at home. Usually, I don't even keep my cell phone in the same room as me - I don't want it to be like a ball and chain. But what happens is since people don't know where I am, they just call my cell, assuming that I've had it surgically attached to my body. So, I miss calls, and don't get the messages until later - this is definitely an unexpected problem. They need to invent a way of when you're home, you can plug your phone into the recharger, and it automatically knows to forward calls to your home phone. THAT would be grand.
But, aside from the phone functionality, it's really nice having a web browser and email client all at the same time. And, a feature that most phones have that I didn't realize it's usefulness until gaining it myself is text messaging. It's so convenient - it's not-intrusive, yet quick. If everyone had text messaging (and it was easy to use - my phone is a Treo, so it has a keyboard, unlike those phones that just have a number pad, and make typing excruciating), I don't even know if you'd need the phone capability. It's nice to be able to check baseball scores and other events, and check my email wherever I am. I've never really claimed to be a Luddite - in fact, I know that I'm addicting to being connected. That's a problem that's not going away - I believe I was part of the first generation of college students to have reliable broadband in college. And, I got hooked. Being disconnected is unbearable now. It's a dependency, but I'm not quite sure how unhealthy it is. Certainly, as time goes on, and as future generations are always connected, it's only going to get worse. At some point, there's going to be nowhere in the world that doesn't have internet access. This is frightening and comforting at the same time. But definitely more of the latter. If I'm disconnected, how can I check my fantasy baseball scores?
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Business Travel Makes You Crazy
The leading cause of obesity, and general unhappiness in the United States has got to be business travel. There's no question in my mind that being on the road is just disastrous to one's mental and physical well-being. The physical part is obvious - you're traveling, and usually only have time to eat in crappy fast-food places. You can't miss your plane or miss your meeting, and you don't know where things are, so when you find a place that serves something resembling food, you don't want to pass it up. Of course, you could find a real restaurant, but you don't want to be one of those losers you see sitting alone at a nice restaurant. Who are those people? I suppose they're business travelers trying to be healthy. So, you eat junk food. Not good. Although, my hotel did provide free apples, one of which I will be eating soon. But I'm sure they're laced with pesticides.
As for the mental aspect, there's the lack of sleep because your sleep cycle is off. Well, at least mine is - apparently, and this comes as news to me, most other companies have their employees get in BEFORE 11 am. Who knew? So I'm forced to sleep in a strange bed, sleeping tentatively because I'm worried that the desk person didn't take the wake-up call down properly, or that my technologically-inclined brain can't figure out how to work something as simple as an alarm clock. And, then, I have to get up earlier than usual and make sure I don't get lost, and work all day, cuz I really have nothing else to do, and then return to my hotel and eat greasy food. It's just not all that fun.
Today, at least I have baseball to come "home" to. Actually, when I got back to my hotel, I really thought I was going crazy. The previous night, I figured there was a chance that if I got everything done at work, I could leave tonight, so I took everything out of my room. I didn't check out, though, and I knew I was confirmed for two nights. When I returned to my room tonight (obviously, I didn't get everything done), I went to open the door and the card didn't work. I tried again, but couldn't quite figure out what was wrong. (Those red and green lights don't help, since I'm color-blind. Maybe I should file an anti-discrimination suit.) I tried a few times, pushed on the door, checked to make sure it was the right room, and then a guy came to the door. He told me that he thought I had the wrong room. I went to ask him if he checked in tonight (to assure myself that I wasn't crazy), but he left. I tried the card in a few rooms around the area, hoping that no one else would come to the door. Finally, I went back to the front desk, where I was informed that because I had removed all of my stuff (is this really THAT unusual?), they thought I might have checked out. I was given a new room - an "upgrade" room, in fact, that is really the same room, but with more floor space for me to not use. Maybe I'll run laps or something. The point is, I'm not crazy...yet. Although all of this time in the south is starting to make me friendlier....that is kinda scary.
As for the mental aspect, there's the lack of sleep because your sleep cycle is off. Well, at least mine is - apparently, and this comes as news to me, most other companies have their employees get in BEFORE 11 am. Who knew? So I'm forced to sleep in a strange bed, sleeping tentatively because I'm worried that the desk person didn't take the wake-up call down properly, or that my technologically-inclined brain can't figure out how to work something as simple as an alarm clock. And, then, I have to get up earlier than usual and make sure I don't get lost, and work all day, cuz I really have nothing else to do, and then return to my hotel and eat greasy food. It's just not all that fun.
Today, at least I have baseball to come "home" to. Actually, when I got back to my hotel, I really thought I was going crazy. The previous night, I figured there was a chance that if I got everything done at work, I could leave tonight, so I took everything out of my room. I didn't check out, though, and I knew I was confirmed for two nights. When I returned to my room tonight (obviously, I didn't get everything done), I went to open the door and the card didn't work. I tried again, but couldn't quite figure out what was wrong. (Those red and green lights don't help, since I'm color-blind. Maybe I should file an anti-discrimination suit.) I tried a few times, pushed on the door, checked to make sure it was the right room, and then a guy came to the door. He told me that he thought I had the wrong room. I went to ask him if he checked in tonight (to assure myself that I wasn't crazy), but he left. I tried the card in a few rooms around the area, hoping that no one else would come to the door. Finally, I went back to the front desk, where I was informed that because I had removed all of my stuff (is this really THAT unusual?), they thought I might have checked out. I was given a new room - an "upgrade" room, in fact, that is really the same room, but with more floor space for me to not use. Maybe I'll run laps or something. The point is, I'm not crazy...yet. Although all of this time in the south is starting to make me friendlier....that is kinda scary.
Sunday, October 03, 2004
Aging
There no beating around the bush: I'm aging rapidly. It's not pleasant. I'm 27 years old. I don't think that's incredibly old, but I'm sadly coming to the realization that I'm mortal. This is something that I wouldn't have admitted a few years ago. Of course, I still don't have any evidence to the contrary, but I'm starting to feel more physical pain than usual. Guess what? I don't like it.
In my life, I have never had a cavity, and I've never broken a bone. Both of these are related to luck, but I don't expect either to change. The cavity deal is definitely luck: I haven't had a dental check-up in three years, and while I brush my teeth twice a day, that's all I do. I don't floss, I don't brush after every meal. Like I said, I'm just lucky. Maybe I have resilient teeth. Maybe all the soda I drink toughens my teeth up, or kills all the bacteria that might otherwise be in my mouth. Maybe not - it's probably luck.
As for the broken bones, well, that's also luck, but less so. I like to think I'm relatively agile (and that, of course, is lucky in and of itself, so I guess fundamentally everything is based on luck, or maybe God - I contend there's no difference), and therefore can avoid situation that might break my bones. I also don't play many sports that might result in broken bones, like hockey or football. I do play a decent amount of catching-related sports, so maybe one day I'll break a finger, but if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer not. Another reason I haven't broken any bones is because I think I'm rather flexible. This seems to come naturally - I don't really stretch before activity, but I'm starting to think that's going to have to chance.
I posted a bit ago about the "End of an Era", referring to the fact that I can no longer do my double-jointed trick, by doctor's order. Of course, I saw the doctor because I started experiencing shoulder pain, which hadn't happened before. Next to balding (which I've also written about), this was on of the big signs of my aging - my arms had never hurt me before, but they started to. Now I'm noticing that I'm feeling tightness in my hamstrings more often - maybe I really should start to stretch before softball.
Last week, I played soccer and got kicked in the knee and took a soccer ball that bent my fingers back. Both still hurt. Today, I played softball and twisted my ankle - it may be sprained. This hasn't happened to me in a long time, and I hate it. It's not the pain, it's the lack of control over my own body. Is my arm going to fall of next? Am I going to suddenly go blind? When will this madness all end? (I think I know - when I die, of course.)
The final straw is that my father is starting to drive like an old man - and is scares the living crap out of me. It's frustrating driving with him, but what's worse is that it's an eerie specter of myself in 30 years. I'm going bald like him, and it's scares me that I might start driving like him. It may be a long time away, but man, am I going to be frustrated if that time ever arrives.
In my life, I have never had a cavity, and I've never broken a bone. Both of these are related to luck, but I don't expect either to change. The cavity deal is definitely luck: I haven't had a dental check-up in three years, and while I brush my teeth twice a day, that's all I do. I don't floss, I don't brush after every meal. Like I said, I'm just lucky. Maybe I have resilient teeth. Maybe all the soda I drink toughens my teeth up, or kills all the bacteria that might otherwise be in my mouth. Maybe not - it's probably luck.
As for the broken bones, well, that's also luck, but less so. I like to think I'm relatively agile (and that, of course, is lucky in and of itself, so I guess fundamentally everything is based on luck, or maybe God - I contend there's no difference), and therefore can avoid situation that might break my bones. I also don't play many sports that might result in broken bones, like hockey or football. I do play a decent amount of catching-related sports, so maybe one day I'll break a finger, but if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer not. Another reason I haven't broken any bones is because I think I'm rather flexible. This seems to come naturally - I don't really stretch before activity, but I'm starting to think that's going to have to chance.
I posted a bit ago about the "End of an Era", referring to the fact that I can no longer do my double-jointed trick, by doctor's order. Of course, I saw the doctor because I started experiencing shoulder pain, which hadn't happened before. Next to balding (which I've also written about), this was on of the big signs of my aging - my arms had never hurt me before, but they started to. Now I'm noticing that I'm feeling tightness in my hamstrings more often - maybe I really should start to stretch before softball.
Last week, I played soccer and got kicked in the knee and took a soccer ball that bent my fingers back. Both still hurt. Today, I played softball and twisted my ankle - it may be sprained. This hasn't happened to me in a long time, and I hate it. It's not the pain, it's the lack of control over my own body. Is my arm going to fall of next? Am I going to suddenly go blind? When will this madness all end? (I think I know - when I die, of course.)
The final straw is that my father is starting to drive like an old man - and is scares the living crap out of me. It's frustrating driving with him, but what's worse is that it's an eerie specter of myself in 30 years. I'm going bald like him, and it's scares me that I might start driving like him. It may be a long time away, but man, am I going to be frustrated if that time ever arrives.
