How to Succeed in a Job Interview

Generally it's a good idea to only write publicly about a job interview after you've gotten the job, in case the alternative happens (the alternative- naturally- being that you get eaten by land-dwelling tuna and can't write about it after-the-fact). But I'm not really the most conventional writer and certainly not when it comes to blogging, so here goes: I have a job interview on Thursday. At this point my boss (who doesn't even know I have a blog) just gasped as she Googled "Holla Atchya David!" and this post popped up and she read that I'm applying elsewhere. But fear not: the job for which I am applying is not a teaching job. It will not require me to terminate my current employment (hear that ladies? I'm employed) or even alter my current schedule. At this point she is thinking I'm probably a sushi chef, and you're thinking the ostensible truth has to be I'm applying to be a woodsman. But you would both be wrong. My interview is for a baseball coaching position.
A friend of mine at work is the varsity baseball coach for a local high school and he invited me to apply for the job as an assistant coach. Wait- lower your expectation a little before you read on. The position is not to work with the varsity team. Wait- lower your expectation a little more. The position is not to be coach of the JV team. Okay, now that the expectations limbo has been sufficiently maintained, I will reveal that I'm applying for the position of JV assistant coach. And frankly that's just what I want. I have a feeling the the interview will go something like this:

Them: "Mr. Bennett, what type of baseball coaching experience do you have?"
Me: "I run the Math Counts team at my school! We got Most Improved last year!"
Them: "Interesting. How about in athletics. What experience do you have coaching athletics?"
Me: "Well, one time a student of mine didn't know how to do two-step equations, so I helped him after school! He totally nailed it on the test!"
Them: "Okay, you sound like a great math teacher. But let's get back to athletics. Your coaching experience sounds a little thin. Have you ever even offered advice to an athlete before?"
Me: "Oh yes, sir! All the time. At least two of my students are on the wrestling team and I often inform them that they have puss coming out of their ears."
Them: "That's just disgusting Mr. Bennett. Please don't ever say that out loud again. I think we're done discussing your coaching history. Let's move on to your playing career. Tell us about your playing experience."
Me: "When I was in 3rd grade I played a farmer in our school play and although I didn't have a speaking part, I did get to play my trumpet in two separate scenes!"
Them: "Well, you certainly have eclectic tastes. But back to baseball. When did you last play competitive baseball?
Me: "Does skiing count?"
Them: "No."
Me: "Then I'd have to say last week."
Them: "Oh? Really? Well that's great! What league were you playing in?"
Me: "I don't exactly remember the league, but the level was Moo Moo Meadows."
Them: "Mr. Bennett, you do realize that's an arena on Mario Kart, don't you? That has nothing to do with baseball."
Me: "I'm sorry, I must have misunderstood you. Could you please repeat the question?"
Them: "Do you know what this is?" (Holding up a baseball)
Me: "Does it light up?"
Them: "No. It does not."
Me: "Well then it's definitely not my first guess, which was a new  form of Latvian currency. I guess I'll go with my second guess: A new product for our purses?"
Them: "You make absolutely no sense. What purses are you talking about?"
Me: "Wait a second. This isn't the interview for manager at the Coach store is it..."

All joking aside, I do need to brush up a little on my coaching skills. I really hope they aren't assuming I played in the MLB... or in college... or high school... or in little league... or anything like that. I stopped by the library and picked up some books on coaching baseball after work on Monday. I've been reading them ferociously, but astonishingly none of the books have a chapter on "Passing a Coaching Interview When You Have No Coaching or Playing Experience." C'mon publishers.

It was really fun staging this photo shoot.

As I've been studying up for my big interview I've felt like I'm getting ready for the MCAT or something. There's so much information about everything in these books and I've really been cramming hardcore, with bits of blogging, movies, shopping and school mixed in with all the studying. I've got flashcards, concept webs, and baseball cards.
Do you have any advice for me in my interview? At the very least please pray for me to do well. If you're not the praying type then please wish upon a shooting star or lucky number that my testosterone-inducing beard will overpower my experience deficiencies in the face of my interviewers.

Some Timely Sporty Observations

I've been watching a lot of sports games the past few weeks. The NBA playoffs are in full swing (basketball), the NHL hockey playoffs are full throttle (hockey), and I'm currently following two baseball teams- the Nationals of Washington and the Boston Red Sox. It's a full time job keeping up with all these sports (reading news articles online, reading the sports page in the morning, listening to sports radio, checking scores on my phone, and managing relationships not based on sporting events); thankfully I have the time right now. I've made some observations that I would like to impart for your benefit and the benefit of my Iowan readers, who, by my estimation, don't know what hockey is.
Hockey Fights- I've watched a handful of hockey fights this season and they are always entertaining. Here are funny things about hockey fights:

1. The players have so many pads on they can hardly even reach the other person. Their arm movements are very limited and they can never seem to get very close to each other because, well, they are standing on slippery ice. Actually landing a punch is about as common as a spelling 'Welcome' with a 'k.'
2. The players have so many pads on their punches don't even hurt. If by some chance they do land a punch the chances of it hitting any bare skin are slim to none. Trying to attack a person who's dressed to withstand an imminent, flaming meteor is just not a smart move.
3.  In addition to hockey fights, I love it when a player drops his stick and then can't pick it up because his glove fingers are too puffy. It's really funny. Hockey is such a great sport: Go Bruins!

Onto the basketball front, there's been one main observation I've made while watching many, many playoff games. It is this: Basketball players are always hunched over. Go watch a game and you'll see what I'm talking about. They're like cavemen with their knuckles dragging on the parquet (but luckily they aren't generally slavers). Basketball is my favorite sport to play and I too turn into Quasimodo when I hit the court... with my knuckles.
Now for my baseball observations. I've been blessed to attend 3 Nationals games thus far, and watched a few other games this season. The baseball season nearly has more regular season games (162) than basketball (82) and hockey (82) combined, and it leads to an arduous season. As a result the players tend to get a little bored. I love watching an 'attentive' third baseman spinning his glove on his finger as the pitcher goes into his windup. I enjoy watching a right fielder doing cartwheels while the shortstop pulls out How to Win Friends and Influence People in an effort to finish the chapter before anything happens. Baseball really is a great sport, especially in person. If you haven't been to a game this year come visit me and we'll go watch the Nats.

Ski Season 2010 #2

I worked hard to get my final Finals done in two days so that I could spend the next four skiing the beautiful Mountains of Zion. I would not recommend taking four final Finals in the first two days of Finals week, saying good-bye to all your friends and extended family, trying to pass a final cleaning check, and moving all in the same week. But, because I did all that, I knew some detoxification was in need. My mind was caliginous and my attitude was deflated like a squished Ginger Snap cookie. But there's nothing like a ski vacation to cheer one up! The first day on the slopes was at Brighton, and included lots of rides off Great Western, Snake Creek Express, and the Crest Express. The Snake Creek Express is a great mid-mountain lift, except for the cobras. If you liked Snakes on a Plane you'd love this chairlift, what with diamondbacks crawling all over the foot rests and around your skis. I will say that all the moving around to avoid the snakes made the trip significantly less cold, however. The Crest Express is sponsored by the toothpaste company and each ride came with a complimentary teeth brushing, spa-like experience. A little mechanical arm came down with the restraint bar and scrubbed your pearly whites as you rode up the mountain. Great Western was the longest of the chairlifts, and included men with eye patches shooting shotguns and revolvers at you from atop horses. It's as if they were replevying us or something.
Day two included a trip to Solitude. Solitude is my favorite ski resort in the world, that I have been to. Solitude was fun, and included a blisteringly fast run down "Challenger" where speeds of 60+ mph were reached by yours truly. By the way, my mother has a GPS watch and measured how far we travelled in a day of skiing. 30+ miles. That's a lot of ground covered.
Day three of the ski vacation turned into a bit of a bust, ski wise. My large toe got destroyed and inoperable due to being squished in a ski boot for two days. It turned a sweet blue color and made my limp. I was going to include a picture but my publicist told me to burn all evidence that I was injured, to keep my safe, healthy, public image.
Day four was much better. I had some pretty significant falls and spent the majority of the day eating snow. You'll notice in the picture above, which was a typical position of mine, that there was really no place for me to go but down. I came screaming into that intersection only to see that I was not going to be able to clear the fallen log. Unfortunately the fallen log turned out to be an ambush. While I was down and before this picture was snapped a herd of voracious squirrels flew down from the trees and took my ski socks. How they got them out of my boot is beyond me. Maybe they were in cahoots with the eye-patched, gritty men from Great Western.
Seeing as I have moved, I'm not sure if I will get any more skiing in this season. It's really sad. Thus, this is (likely) a birth announcement and death notice for the 2010-2011 ski season.

R.I.P. Baseball Season 2010

This time of year is, as you may know, my favorite season. One of those reasons is the fantastic quality of baseball games. October baseball is enceinte with fantastic plays and competitive games. Unfortunately, this year my predictions were colder than Cruelle Deville in a meat locker sucking on an ice cube while sitting on a steel bench. Every team I rooted for lost (except in the Yankees/Rangers series). When the San Francisco Giants won on Monday night there was a loud caterwaul heard coming from beneath my pillow. You may have thought it was my mouth, but really there was a cat stuck under there. I have no idea how he got there. Now that the season is over it's time to chafe inwardly about the past season. If you don't like the inward chafing you may stop reading now.
One highlight of this season is that I was successfully able to think of one instance when I would root for the Yankees, much to my brother-in-law's cheeky grin. Here's the scenario: If I was at the game with my sister and brother-in-law (legit Yankees fans from NYC), at Yankee Stadium with my baby niece Ruby on my lap, and the Yankees were playing the Los Angeles Lakers- I would root for the pinstripes; but only once. I might give off a "Go Yankees" but just the one time. And it might be mumbled under my breath. And I might throw the word 'candle' in at the end. But, I feel it's a starting step toward baseball reconciliation with 'that side' of the family. In 2011, however, we will all be living in D.C. and have decided the Washington Nationals will make a great peacemaking team.
The other highlight of this season was going to a Red Sox game on Cinco de Mayo. My BoSox didn't give me much to cheer about this year, but that game was pretty sweet. That picture was taken before I went to Thailand.

Intramural Sports

My life has been hectic (at best) over the past few weeks. Allow me to clue you in:

• My innertube waterpolo team is undefeated. We even beat a team named "The De-Protenators" fomr the chemistry department. This is marked improvement from last season when we did not win a single game. 
• My intramural basketball team GOT IN A BENCHES-CLEARING BRAWL LAST NIGHT and it was awesome! Before I begin allow me to explain that I only know one person on my team, the one who invited me to join. I cannot be responsible for anyone else and I don't know what pushes their buttons or how 'easy to anger' they are. Having said that, here's how it went down: Our player came down hard with a rebound and called a timeout to make sure he wasn't hurt (he hit his head on the floor). The other team didn't notice the time-out so they ran over to our downed man and tried to strip the ball from him. Well, he didn't like that very much so he had a few words for the opponent and as soon as he got up there was a shoving match. Then they started throwing punches. Before you could say "Keep it cool as the bee's knees" the fight escalated and everyone (except me, of course) was in the throes of a gigantic brawl. The wives rushed in the middle to pull their husbands apart and the refs of course were yanking jerseys apart as best they could. It was so exciting! The only involvement I got was when our teams were separated and one of the opponents came over and nudged my teammate and said some unkind words in his face. My teammate started after him but I got in his way and told him to let it be. Yea, that's right. I totally saved the day. The intramural people really didn't know what to do after the debacle and ended up calling in back-up supervisors to help make punishments. The other team hit their five-a-season-aggressive-technical-fouls limit and were handed the loss. Even though one of my teammates got suspended from playing and likely reported to the honor code, we came off virtually unscathed and with a win! Our three wins this season have come from two no-shows and now a DQ'd team. We enter tournament play next week with a 3-2 record, our only actual games ending in losses. Smiley Face. We were only 12 minutes into the game so I was bummed we didn't get to finish it, but alas.
• I'm dating a pulchritudinous Oregonian.

Funny Headlines II: New York Knicks

The following is another headline that you won't see in your newspapers. A Holla Atchya! exclusive.
Sports News: "New York Knick: 'How Can We be Expected to Win Any Games When Our Macot is Old Fashioned Pants?'"
After beginning the 2009-2010 season with a dismal 4-15 record, head coach Mike D'Antoni is looking for answers. And he's getting them, although they may not be the ones he wants. 'How can we be expected to win any games when our mascot is old fashioned pants? I mean, maybe- and that's a big maybe- if our mascot was Apple Bottom Jeans or Uggz we would have a chance' offered Knicks' Center Eddy Curry. With a salary of over 10 million dollars, Curry should know what he's talking about. They don't pay that kind of money to unintelligent people. Larry Hughes, the starting forward, added 'Knickerbockers just don't intimidate people. The only team that's slightly apprehensive about coming to Madison Square Garden are the Clippers. At least we aren't named after fingernail scissors.' When asked if he knew that 'Knicks' referred not to the article of clothing, but to the Dutch settlers of New York, who later became known as Knicks, Hughes responded with 'Alls I know is I ain't Dutch!'

Sticking With My Team- The Boston Red Sox

My roommate, David Ortiz, getting out of the shower. He's hustling as usual, to make sure there is enough hot water for me (what a great guy).

David and David sharing a moment. We are hugging, in case it wasn't abundantly clear.

My roommate, David Oritz. He's quiet, friendly, and I have never seen any sketchy behavior out of him- and certainly no steroid use.

When I began this blog sixteen months ago, I clearly stated in the preamble: "Some things that interest me that will probably be hashed and hashed over again until I pass out include the presidential election, the Red Sox & baseball in general, college, food, movies, current events, religion, exercising, and my convivial social life." (Yes, all of those are egotistical links to my own blog, thus proving what I started out to do last year. It took me about seventy-three days to create all those hyperlinks that no one is going to follow anyway, but I find it very important to be a man of my word, so if nothing else they are hollow proof that I have accomplished the feats of an honest man.) I found it surprising that the only one of my original topics yet to be postulated is religion. However, seeing as it's Saturday, we'll talk about baseball.

If you aren't much of a baseball devotee you may not be aware that my roommate, David Ortiz, was just listed as a steroid user in 2003. The headlines on the Boston Globe the next day pronounced, "Steroid Scandal Hits Home" and there were three misanthropic, cynical articles ripping the Boston hero apart like a good Michael Scott roast. Ortiz did not even know he tested positive that year, and he didn't know what he tested positive for! Maybe he ate a poppyseed bagel that morning! Maybe he was being secretly given supplements in the Dominican Republic that he thought were just "Flintstones's Kids Multivitamins." Seriously, give the guy the benefit of the doubt! Dan Shaughnessy wrote an animus article against a Red Sox Championship in '04 and '07, nearly denouncing the titles and claiming, "We were better cheaters than you." Does he know that steroids were not illegial in the MLB in 2003 and that there is a dearth of evidence against Big Papi since then? I don't deny that there was (and still is) a plague of 'roids milling around the incestuous clubhouses of American's Pasttime, but we need to stick with our boys until the evidence is abundently clear! For the time being, I am a huge David Ortiz fan, especially seeing as he is my roommate. I have a cut out of him in the room across from mine, where he sleeps. The whole time he's been there I've never seen him use any steroids or do anything suspicious. He's just as friendly as ever, although he often sneaks up on my and makes me jump a little, out of fright for his 6'4", 230 lbs frame. He is a large man. Anyway, our titles in 2004 and 2007 are no more tainted than anyone else's, and they came about through a different kind of chemistry, that of team building and a relaxed clubhouse. Way to go Red Sox, Way to go. Seriously, Way to Go.

WEAKend? No, it was a STRONGend! Booyah!

Saturday was a day to remember. It began early, at 7:40am, when I woke up sans alarmclock. If you're not a sleep or Latin expert, that means I got enough sleep. I had a great breakfast, and then was very productive, finishing most of my work in one class for the rest of the semester. I attended a free BBQ at noon, and then headed to campus for our basketball tournament game. Remember my post long ago, about how we hadn't won a game yet? Well, our streak continued throughout the season! My waterpolo team ended the season 0-6, losing one game 46-4 (that's counting by ones, although girls' goals count as two)! My basketball team ended the regular season 0-4-1, although technically a tie counts as a win for both teams. We didn't feel like it was a solid win, however. Luckily every team makes the tournament, which consequently is single elimination. In our first game, we practiced the tried through and through practice of just showing up. It was enough to get a win, becuase no one from the other side showed up. That' a good life lesson kids. Our second game was on Saturday, and this time it was almost us that had to forfeit. With five minutes to game time we had only four players and no score keeper, both essential for a game. Our fourth player showed up with about three minutes to go, and we asked a random guy to be our essential scorekeeper. It was amazing he consented. The other team had seven players and a handful of fans. As the game went on we were getting more and more tired and they were just subbing people in. We started the game losing (they gave the other team 6 free points for winning the jump ball! Just kidding) and were losing at the half. In fact, we were never even tied, but we stuck right with them and kept the game close. We were haivng a nice time and keeping it real. Then a miracle happened, akin to the 1980 USA Men's Olympic Hockey Team. All of a sudden, with under 1:30 to go in the game, we pulled ahead! I think it was our first lead... the entire season. They tied it back up, and we fought back and forth vigorously. Some of their players were getting very angry, and it showed. Have you ever seen tomatoes come out of a man's ears? Neither have I, but they were still mad. Then an un-miracle happened, akin to the 2009 USA Men's World Baseball Classic Team. One of our players fouled out of the game. We were down to only four batallions, against their healthy seven. But we didn't give up, oh Heck No. It just made us work harder! We were leading by 3 points with under 30 seconds to go, with posession and no shotclock. They fouled us, of course, and we scored. We won the game 54 to 50. I had a season high 4 points (I actually haven't been keeping track. It may have been a season low?), half a dozen assists, roughly 4 rebounds, 2 travel calls against me, and 3 steals. I was pleased with my effort, and it felt so good to get a solid, hard earned win. They outnumbered us, but they didn't have the same attitude as us, and that was our secret. It was the most fun I have had playing basketball in a long time, and winning my first game in two sports all season was gratifying. Bring on round three Babay! It was a hard fought, grind it out and play it out win.

The Men in Green, Who Are Not Martians, But Leprechauns!

The Men in Green spoken of in the title are not aliens or Oompa Loompas, but the Boston Celitics. They stormed the Energy Solutions Arena in Salt Lake City, UT on Thursday, but unfortunately left their luck on the aeroplane. I would know, I was there. The Jazz got the better half of us this time, including Garnett. But, the game was still an absolute blast and a half. We had dinner at the Gateway beforehand and received mixed greetings- pleasantries from the Celitcs fans and scowls from the Jazz fans. It reminded me of the time I went to a Red Sox game at Yankee Stadium. Oh wait, no it doesn't, no one gave us pleasantries there- they hated us! We thought our tickets (to the Celtics/Jazz game) would be decent ($16 face value!) and in fact, if we had the eyes of an eagle, a desire for a beer stench, and we wanted solitude, they would have been perfect! Absolutely no complaints! As it were, none of us have eagle eyes, none of us desire the stench of beer (why doesn't anyone sell flowers at Jazz games? I love the smell of fresh cut flowers!), although the solitude wasn't that bad. I went with a pretty cordial cohort of coeds, most of whom were from Boston or married to someone from Boston. It was my first Jazz game and my second Celtics game, and I would have to say I enjoyed it entirely. Probably the highlight was seeing my friend show up in a John Deere shirt because he didn't have any Celitcs gear. Go C's!

David, the Athlete, like Pheidippides, Only Not Dead

This semester I am an active member of two intramural sports, The Blackfoot Ballers and The Dominators. The Blackfoot Ballers is a basketball team. The "blackfoot" does not refer to a frostbitten toe (I hear your toes turn black when they are frostbitten), but rather to the color of my teammate's one foot (he's African-American and in a wheelchair; he lost his other foot in a tragic Wii accident.) No, that's not true at all. Rather, "blackfoot" is a reference to the home-hamlet of no more than three of my teammates. Our first game was declared a disaster by the scoreboard, but in reality it wasn't all that bad, at least not to me. We had two fans at the game, and I scored the last two points! Two good to be true! The final score was 55 to 40, in their favor, but it would have been 55-38 had I not been there! This morning we had an emergency practice session at 7:30am (the 'am' portion means it was in the morning. Today is Saturday. I will let you think about that for a minute. If you still can't believe your eyes and you need further clarification, let me know and I will find you some witnesses). We played well together and are ready to take on our next foes, be they another basketball game or some matudinal excursion. Those make the worst foes of all. Moving right along, The Dominators are an innertube waterpolo team. Yes, yes, yes. If you have never heard of innertube waterpolo, allow me to explain. Innertube waterpolo is a fairly new sport that was conjured up recently. In these dire economic times polo clubs could no longer afford to stable all those horses, so some genius figured an innertube and water would be less expensive and just as fun. She was right! It's a blast and a half without horse manure or preppy shirts. Our waterpolo team also lost, but no-one drowned or got water up their noses so we considered it a success. I think I may find more happiness in my athletic endeavors then poor Pheidippides.

The Etymology of 'Concussed'

There was a story in the Boston Globe today about a Boston Bruin who was 'concussed' late last week, which makes people of all etymological backgrounds wonder, "What exactly does it mean to be concussed?" If you have a linguistic background, you are probably thinking it means with cuss words from the spanish con meaning 'with' and cuss meaning 'cuss.' If you have a background in marine biology slash Native American heritage, you likely saw it as meaning Conch shells with us, from the aquatic vernacular, conch shell, a type of shell found in the ocean, and us, refering to you and me. If you are a Bostonian you likely assumed I actually said "Corn Cursed" and you are scratching your head wondering what exaclty a corn curse is, and how one is hexed with a corn curse. If you were trained in the field of logos (not to be confused with Legos, of which I am a big fan, but of which I am not refering to here) then you probably saw concussed and thought of bad swear words, a double negative referring to happy, flowery words. If you have a background in Hockey, well, then you probably know exactly what it means, having experienced it firsthand. Well time to be revealing, 'concussed' means you got a concussion.

The 2008 Baseball Season: 3/25/08-10/29/08

With wet eyes, we lay to rest the memorable 2008 Major League Baseball season. Although its life was robust, the only survivors were the Philadelphia Phillies. (Sniffle.) Perhaps the most lugubrious aspect of ending something as wonderful as baseball fanaticism is finding a new hobby to fill the chasm of vacuous time made available in the evening hours. Really- I have invested much in my team and the sport over the past seven months- and now that it's over I don't quite know what do do with myself. The wall has been looking ever more attractive the longer I look at it, and I think it's even changing shades slightly, but there's no way I can continue staring at it for another five months. I need something else instead, like a girlfriend, or a puppy, or even a chef would do. Just something to get my mind off of America's Pasttime. Allow me to ever so briefly recap some highlights from the season. It all began at 4am on March the 25th, in Provo, UT. The BoSox were in Japan playing the Athletics (who perhaps should be named the "Unathletics" after this season). Don't ask why they were in Japan (What? You want to know why? Alright, I'll just tell you- David Ortiz wanted some fresh Ramen). My roommates and I woke up in the middle of the night to watch the game. When it ended around 7am we went to school. Another memory: Midway throught the season Coco Crisp charged the mound eliciting a heated brawl in a Rays/Red Sox game. Perhaps the biggest event of the year was the hejira of Manny to L.A. After 7.5 years in a Sox uniform, he left for the West Coast. And in his place came Jason Bay- to the Bay state. The Sox season ended with the Red Sox staging an incredible comeback (see earlier post) in game 5, only to lose in game seven of the ALCS. I had my hopes for the Phillies, who finished out the season as the lone survivors. They deserved it though. After all, they have over 10,000 losses in their history (that's a skill on a whole new level..), and they are from the city of Brotherly Love. They have only won the World Series once since ante 1890, and it's about time they got another trophy. Well, we will miss the baseball season, and watching the wall is no substitute, so if you have any suggestions please inform me immediately. Hmm, I remember that corner being a little lighter yesterday...

The Best Baseball Game of the Season: Red Sox/Rays: Game 5

Wow, if you didn't see the Red Sox/Rays game 5 of the ALCS on Thursday night (10/16/08), you need to stop reading this post and go watch it, from the seventh inning on. No seriously, it was that good. I will give you a minute to stop reading this and pull up another browser and search for the game.

Now that you are up to speed, let's continue. The experience of Thursday night is dear to my baseball heart, and was the single greatest baseball ALCS comeback in 79 years. Previous to the game, the Red Sox were losing the series 3 games to 1, meaning that this game 5 was an elimination game. It was the 171st game of the season for the BoSox, and possibly the last. To say things started rocky would be a litotes- Daisuke got worked, good. The bullpen didn't offer much assistance either, and two hours into the game the Sox were losing 7-0. Did you know that the last time the Red Sox got shut out at home in the postseason was in 1918? But no, not this year, not in our house! Booyah! With two outs in the seventh, and men at 1st and 3rd base, MVP-candidate Pedroia stepped up to the plate. He worked a good count, and hit a single, eliminating a shutout and setting the stage for a Papi blast. And that, my good friends, is exactly what happened. David Ortiz, the Gojilla of baseball, absolutely creamed a Grant Balfour pitch into the right field bleachers, scoring behind two other baserunners. I bet Grant Balfour had wished he had in fact granted a ball four to Papi! (That's a Dave original, and has been my favorite joke of this series.) The seventh inning ended with the score still 7-4. But now it was time for the bullpen to wake the heck up. Papelbon, the most intense closer you will ever see in your life, shut the Rays down and primed the game for an unbelievable Red Sox comeback. In the eighth inning, the "Wheel"-er came loose (My second favorite series joke, if you don't get it, don't worry about it) and Bay walked on four straight pitches. Then Drew, the beloved and silent Drew, stepped up to the plate and absolutely destroyed a pitch to the same location as Ortiz' the inning before! HA HA! "Bedlam in Boston" as TBS claimed. All of a sudden it was 7-6 Rays. Do you think we were done?! NEVER. After Lowrie flied out and Casey struck out (2 outs, we do our best work with 2 outs), Mark Kostsay got a double (which bounced off Upton's glove in centerfield). Then it was Coco Crisp's turn. Yes, for all you baseball non-aficionados, his name is Coco Crisp (Covelli Crisp actually). Coco had an enduring 10 pitch battle with Wheeler before he got a hit on the 11th pitch and scored Kotsay, tieing the game. Masterson, the young, tall, strikingly handsome, high-Red Socks-wearing reliever came on in the 9th, and forced the Rays to hit into a double play, and pretty much just shut them down. Now for the top of the ninth. Keep in mind, I was going insane at this point of the game. I couldn't stand still; I was pacing all over, bouncing my knees, fiddling with my keys, blinking uncontrollably and talking incessantly. In the top of the ninth, with two outs (I love 2 outs...) Kevin Youkilis got to second base on a gift, with J.D. Drew up again. That amazing, emotionless J.D. Drew. And can you guess what he did? HE SMACKED THE BALL INTO RIGHT FIELD SCORING YOUKILIS! The Red Sox won the game! They won! They won! They won! They won! It was utter bliss! I went nutso with my brother and our friends! Oh wow, that was a game for the ages. But you know that, you watched it.

My Love for Baseball: A Brief Disquisition (Part II)

Now that I've spoken of the pitcher/batter struggle, allow me to postulate on the beautiful aspect of the human element in baseball. While most sports are cut and dry, black and white, baseball is not. No play in baseball (except maybe a ground rule double) is set in stone. The umpire plays a role in every single play. Even when it appears obvious, the ump must call a homerun a homerun before it can be put in the record books. Players, fans, and managers alike hold their breath in anticipation with each play in the field to learn how it will be scored. Was that an error or a hit? (In the case of C.C. Sabathia on 9/1/08, this was a really big deal.) Or take the case of the Red Sox game on August 5, 2008, when the 'homerun' ball rolled along the fence before it was knocked back into play by the outfielder. Was that a homerun or not? It was just bizzare. Strikezones change (as in the case of the Sox/Rays game on 10/11/08), and outfields are unique in each ballpark. I love it! In Houston, the Astros have a legitimate hill in center field, waiting like a hungry alligator for its unsuspecting prey. Fenway has the Monstah, Wrigley has the ivy, Petco has the bay, and the Trop has the catwalks. Safeco has a retractable roof, and BOB (Bank One Ballpark- Diamondbacks) has air conditioning What may be a homerun in one park is a double in another. Fenway has lots of nooks and cranneys for the ball to roll into, adding yet another element. And then consider the fans! Oh my gosh, the fans! What other sport do you have where the spectators can reach out and mess up a play, or do nothing at all so as to assist the outfielder in his fielding? Boston fans are proudly vivacious, and they know when to interfere with a popup. Baseball has a beautiful and sometimes inconsistent human element to it, which just makes it that much better!

My Love For Baseball: A Brief Disquisition (Part I)

It's Autumn, and that means Fall Ball/Postseason/Playoffs- Babay. I'm delayed in writing this post, seeing as the first round of the playoffs is already in the past, but boy was it great! Last Sunday I spent five (5) hours watching a back-and-forth game between the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim play the Boston Red Sox. In twelve solid innings, the Angels' score surpassed the Red Sox' score, and they won (that's usually how sports work). There will be more on the specific postseason in later posts, but for now I want to just express my love for baseball. First off, every pitch is a furious battle between the pitcher and the batter. An absolute battle. The well-studied catcher calls the shots, and the pitcher approves them. Meanwhile, the batter does his best to avoid getting deceived and strike out. He has less than half a second to see the ball leave the pitcher's hand, determine where it's going to be when it arrives at the plate, decide if he wants to swing or not, and then take action. If he is too late or too early, he will hit a foul ball or receive a strike. And that happens with every single pitch. Now, once the ball is in play, just think of all the possibilities! It could go to the outfield, stay in the infield, get caught, foul off, blast out of the park or be grounded right to a player. It's amazing to me that there are so many close plays at first base. I mean, think about it, who knew, or how many trial and errors did it take to know that if 1st base was exactly 90 feet away from home plate, there would always be a close play at the bag? It's genius! Baseball is just a perfect hybrid between individual effort and team effort. You can't win by yourself, but you certainly can sway an entire game the other way with one swing of the bat. Each team has 162 games spanning six (6) months to improve and prove themselves worthy to keep playing for a seventh. Right now, there are only four teams that have proved worthy. Go Red Sox! Obviously this post is just scratching the surface, but I hope it gives you an idea as to why October is one of the twelve best months of the whole year, easily!

A Brief Boston Ballgame Bulletin

That's a fancy alliterative title for "I don't have too much time but I want to write a post, and Boston Sports are on my mind." The Patriots are in trouble, to put it kindly. They couldn't win a single exhibition game without Brady, and now he's out for the season. Good luck Pats! The Red Sox, on the other hand, took one from the Rays tonight behind Lester's fantastic performance and moved just 1/2 game behind them in the A.L. East. Mike Lowell's back and feeling great. Things are really looking up for my BoSox. And don't forget, the doughty Celtics are still World Champions! If you have any updates about Boston's underground curling fascination, I would love to hear them. I am an equal opportunity blogger here, willing to give attention to all sports.

A Softball Game for the Ages

Baseball: Fun to watch and follow. Softball: Fun to play. This morning I had a mission companion call me up and invite me to come play slow-pitch softball with his community team in South Jordan, UT. I love softball so I leapt for joy at the opportunity. I imagined myself coming up to bat with two outs in the top of the ninth and blasting in the winning run, being flaunted by dazzling women and then carried off the field on the shoulders of the throngs of fans chanting my name. I didn't right much know what to expect when we got to the field though, except that we had jerseys (that matched, and were button-down!) and an umpire who was not a member of either team! We had ten players (four in the outfield) and eleven members on the team so I, as the new guy, took turns playing far right field. The only time I touched the ball in the outfield was when I made a running catch with my borrowed 10 year old mitt (it was purchased for a twelve year old, and the finger size showed that). I was quite pleased with my catch. When I got to bat for the first time I followed my Mom's advice, "Swing at Everything Honey." I sent the first pitch into shallow left and made it safely to first. My second at bat was less ostentatious; I essentially hit the ball straight down and everyone was so in shock at how far the ball didn't go, that I just sprinted for first and made it safely. A bust of a bunt, but a basehit nonetheless. My third at bat was another blooper to the outfield, again a basehit. After seven innings (the regulation) the score was tied, necessitating extra innings. I sat out the eighth inning, but finally got my chance to bat in the ninth. It was fate. Imagine this: bottom of the ninth, extra innings, bases loaded, two outs, I'm up to bat. So far, things were going exactly as I had imagined them to be-in my daydreams. Again, my momma always told me to swing at everything. So when the first pitch came slowly by, I hammered it right over the leaping shortstop into centerfield and watched as my teammate on third came into Home to score the winning run! After getting to first I turned around, anticipating my name being chanted, fans fighting tooth and nail to get on the field, and those dazzling women chasing me. Unfortunately, because I was the new guy, no one on the team knew my name, the fans were not clawing to get on the field (they were distracted by their popcorn) and the dazzling women took the day off I guess. Anyway, it was a fantastic moment and my team did all come out to congratulate me, even if they called me 'Joe,' 'Francisco,' 'DeShawn,' and 'How long has he been on our team?'

Michael Phelps

My favorite event to watch in the 2008 Beijing Olympics? Hands and flippers down, it's Michael Phelps. Can I give that Man-Fish a Holla? In the short span of eight days I have been captivated by his swimming and all of its intensities. The two Olympic events that stick out the most in my mind, like two sharks in a sea of fish, are Hermann Maier (Austria) at the 1998 Nagano (Japan) Olympics performing candidly an unbelievable crash, and the American relay team win the 2008 Beijing (China, in case you live in a hole) Olympics 4x100 Freestyle Relay. If you have not seen the 4x100 Freestyle Relay, you had better have a good excuse; the only appropriate one that comes to mind is if while trying to get to a comfortable standing postion in front of the television (you can't sit through something like that), you got attacked by a pack of javolinas with leprosy and you tripped over the TV and bent the electric plug. I would relate my feelings of that night and watching that victory to the feelings I had watching the Red Sox win the 2007 World Series. I had shortness of breath, a tingly feeling in my spine and left arm, and it felt like an elephant was standing on my chest. When Lezak jumped into the pool and swam the first fifty meters well behind our friends in France, I was worried. Even the announcers, who were screaming, spoke askance about America's chances at catching the wine-and-cheese swim club: "I just don't think they can do it, Dan" [NBC announcers as soon as Lezak jumped in the pool]. But then, out of the misty water and halfway through his leg of the relay, Lezak opened up a can of something and just let loose! (I really wanted to use some stronger words there but I think it would have detracted from the overall feeling of the blog.) BAM! Lezak stormed through the water like a bat out of Hades and caught and then surpassed the French! It was incredible! By less than .1 of a second he turned up the heat, overcame the defecit and won the GOLD MEDAL! It was the greatest Olympic moment in at least ten years, easily.

And then, when I thought I had seen enough swimming, Phelps brought me back to my senses. "Shame on you David" he said via satellite phone from the Olympic Village. How sweet was his gold medal in the 100 meter Butterfly? When he overcame Cavic in the last 5 meters my mom called him a tiger and my dad called him a geneticaly-engineered-wonder-fish-man (or some variation of adjectives similar to those). That was nuts! How does he do it?! He is a Tiger! His last stroke in the fly race-while Cavic kept his arms extended-was a true showing of Man verse nature and for once, Man won. Michael Phelps, I take my hat of to you. You are an inconceivably brilliant swimmer and a fierce competitor. I would not want to be in a dark pool with you though.

Boston's Spectacular Sports

This weekend was a good time to be invovled in Boston Sports. On Friday the Boston Buckteeth defeated the Tallahassee Taproots in a thrilling match of badminton. The hard-fought victory made them the Eastern Conference finalists of the Badminton Athletics Department of Jousting, Origami, Kneeling and Entertaining, known more commonly by their acronymic label, B.A.D.J.O.K.E.
Don't worry, I didn't spend too much time on that one (but do keep in mind that I'm done with school at 3:00PM everyday so "too much time" is very relative!). But enough frivolty for one entry right? Let's get on to more important things, like the Celtics and Red Sox! This weekend the BoSox commenced interleague play with a three game sweep of Prince Fielder and the Brewsters. Let me just say that my buddy Prince in Milwaukee needs to change his last name to "batter" or "slugger" as opposed to Fielder. It just isn't filicitous as is. At the Garden, the C's put Cleveland away in seven exhilarating games. This year I have grown an appreciation for basketball that has never been experienced in my family before, and not only because we have a winning team this year. The real roots lie in my playing of the game. Every since I got cut from my seventh grade BBall team, I have had a sour taste in my mouth for leather balls. But then I joined an intramural team this Winter, and had a ball playing ball! I thoroughly enjoyed the whole season! So when I got home I started playing with some men from my Church as well. Every time I play I appreciate the game a little more. And plus, it's easy to be a fan on a team with as much Spirit as the Celtics. Yes sir, I do enjoy a good basketball game both playing and spectating.

May Day! May Day! Fenway Disportment!

On Wednesday April 30th 2008 I went to see the Red Sox vs. Blue Jays at Fenway Park. The entire experience was bliss. I went with Thomas which is always a party, and we took the bus to Comm. Ave. which made for a little adventure (keep in mind I am easily entertained). Just being down on Yawkey Way around game time is inflaming; the street vendors, the fans, the paraphernalia, the crowds and the excitement all add to an aura not to be found anywhere else around Boston. Thomas and I had good seats too, in the grandstand. We had a great view of Manny, and the whole infield. We danced to all the songs and joked about the people who danced... when there was no music playing. We cheered, we 'waved,' we yelled, we cavorted and revelled in our merry company. It was an evening match and the Fenway lights shone like the midday sunshine on a warm beach. I'm not so sure that's really a good analogy, come to think of it. The Sox won of course, in a dramatic 9th inning fashion that only the Beantown's Best can do. Dice-K and McGowan had quite the pitchers joust through the seventh inning, holding their opponents to one hit each. But then in the bottom of the 9th, Ortiz got to second (Lowrie was the Pinch Runner) with Manny on first. Brandon Moss hit a good solid hit up the middle to Vernon Wells in center with one out, but Lowrie got mowed down on his way from second to home by Wells' mechanic arm. That put Manny on second and Cpt. Varitek at the plate. Well, leave it up to Varitek and you shouldn't be disappointed. He cranked one up the center (mimicking the previous hit) and Manny bolted home. The throw to the plate wasn't perfect this time and Manny hustled his way in. The crowd went wild and the dugout came out to congratulate Manny and Varitek, appropriately. We got everything at the game: an Ortiz home run, a Pedroia Destroya play, drama in the ninth, a win, "Sweet Caroline" in the 8th and a whole lot more in between... I love the Sox! Rating: A+