Category Archives: Baseball

May 13, 2009 · 18:29

An Anti-Christ does Funeral Homes, Walk-Offs, Donuts and Banks and Visits His Dad

Note: To fully understand the reference to me being the Anti-Christ, please see my posts “Saturday Morning Distractions-Jehovah’s Witnesses at the Door” https://padresteve.wordpress.com/2009/04/04/saturday-morning-distractions-jehovahs-witnesses-at-the-door/ and “So This is What it Feels Like to be the Anti-Christ…Cool.” https://padresteve.wordpress.com/2009/04/07/so-this-is-it-what-it-feels-like-to-be-the-anti-christcool/

While I may be the Anti-Christ to the Witnesses this in no way implies that my dad is the Devil, well again dad was in the Navy, donated a ton of blood and loved his country.  Peace, Steve+

Today started out a bit weird.  Being the Anti-Christ can lead to some interesting situations. The juxtaposition of various events that occur when you are travelling as well as dealing with really serious matters that deal with the end of life get strange.  It’s almost like I am living a Seinfeld episode.  As you know I am out working with my mom and brother to take care of various end-of-life issues, funeral arrangements, financial matters, hospice and the nursing home.

Anyway, yesterday I spent the morning with my dad and then in the afternoon took my mom to De Young Funeral Home in Mudville. This is a trip that she had planned to take with a friend to make pre-arrangements but her friend had the audacity to suddenly die before they could make the trip.  Since then my mom has been putting it off as my brother has not had the time to go with her.  Let’s face it, this is not everyday stuff and can be quite upsetting when you are not in good shape and have to do it for your spouse as well as yourself.  Thankfully I have been through this before working with my wife to make arrangements for her parents.  My mom had no idea all that went into making these arrangements, especially for cremation. Thankfully the De Young people are really good.  The manager there, aptly named Mr. Nice was really good in helping my mom and was fittingly very nice.  My mom was not happy about my father’s desire to be buried at sea.  However, as a retired military wife she is also eligible for this just as if she was being interred with him at a National Cemetery.  When she found out that there was the possibility of burial off the coast of San Diego with my dad, she had a noticeable change of heart.  We were stationed there when I was kid and she always remembers it as one of their best tours in the Navy.  We agreed that when the time comes that they will be buried together at sea from a Navy ship.  It is fitting for a couple who spent 20 of the best years of their life in the Navy to be honored in this manner.  Thankfully as an active duty Navy Chaplain I will be able to arrange the details on the Navy side.  This being accomplished mom and I got dinner and went back to her house.

After resting for a while I went out to the living room where mom was watching the Giants play the Nationals.  It looked bad for the Giants. In the top of the 7th the Nationals took a 7-5 lead.  The Giants for one back in the bottom of the 8th on a Benji Molina home run and held the Nationals in the top of the 9th.  The first two batters went down and the Giants were down to their last out trailing 7-6. The Edgar Rentaria singled up the middle. Emmanuel Burris followed with single putting runners on first and second.  Pablo Sandoval, who in the 7th tripped on the base path trying for a triple came to the plate. I looked at mom and said. “Time for the walk off.”  Mom said “I hope somebody does something.” Somehow I knew going into the inning and even after the second out that Giants would win.  There is something special about this team that the experts don’t see.  I knew they were going to win. The count went to 2 and 2 when Sandoval blasted a shot over the left field wall.  It was the kind of home run that the instant that it was hit that you know is gone.  Sandoval was mobbed by his team mates as he crossed the plate.  Walk offs like that are part of the baseball magic which the Deity Herself has given us.

This morning my mom, Jeff and I went to the bank to take care of administrative issues dealing with the family trust, an adventure that took almost two hours but again was helpful.  A young lady was quite helpful and again though it took time she made it comparatively easy.  Following this I was once again blessed when visiting my dad.  Today it took more work but I was able to keep engaged for about 20 minutes before putting him in bed.  We talked about baseball and the Navy once again; I described the walk-off from last night.  He still does love the Giants.  We talked about the Navy, specifically Navy uniforms.  He was happy to hear that I wore brown shoes with my khakis and that the Navy was possibly going to bring back the Dress Khaki.  This was one of his favorite uniforms.  I was also able to get Judy on the cell phone for him.  He had really taken to her over the past 7 or 8 years following the death of his mother who Judy was quite close to.  He had asked about her on both of my visits and it was good for them to talk, even if only for a couple of minutes.  I do hope that they will see each other again.

So anyway while most of this does not really fit as un-Anti-Christlike, I was reminded once again today that I am the Anti-Christ; or according to the Jehovah’s Witness one of the many such nefarious creatures.  Can you spell “Beast?”  However as I have noted in other posts I have a high rank among the multitude of Anti-Christ’s.  I am first and foremost a Priest and according the Witnesses all Christian ministers are Anti-Christ’s.  Second I am a Navy Officer serving the government which according to the Witnesses is of the Devil.  Finally I am a chaplain in a Naval Medical Center ICU which routinely tanks people up with blood and blood products. I am like Osama Bin Laden or maybe even Hitler to the Witnesses.

I picked up some Donuts for us at the Mudville “Donut King” on Pacific Avenue. Those not from California really don’t understand really good donuts. We have a lot of “mom and pop” donut shops out here.  Donut King I think is the best in Mudville. I have been going to them since I was in high school. If you go down to San Clemente there is “Surfin’ Donuts.”  These are belly busters; there is enough sugar and fat in these things to fully charge the youth of a third world village to the point where they would need to be put on Ritalin. Add some coffee and we’re cooking with gas. These mom and pop stores put all the chain donut shops to shame.  Of course the hot and fresh “Krispy Cremes” are to die for, but all other donuts are also-rans compared to these.  As I came out of the 7-11 near my parent’s house with my 24 ounce French Vanilla coffee with 4 French Vanilla creamers and 4 Spenda’s, a man got out of a Mercedes Benz SUV.  I thought at first that he was a business man stopping in for coffee when he strode up to me and out came the Watchtower. I was momentarily surprised and he said “Would you like to hear the good news about Jehovah?”  I looked at him and said very bluntly, “No thank you, I’m the Anti-Christ” and continued walking to my car.  The look on his face was hysterical; you would have thought that I had hit him upside the head. He was stunned.  As I got into my car I saw him slink back into the passenger side of the Mercedes, a fine automobile, I must say, as the other occupants, a man and two women glared at me.  Obviously they were going to wait for another target, so I drove off.  It is so cool to be the Anti-Christ to these guys.  Some of my former Fundamentalist friends on Facebook probably think similar thoughts but might at least grudgingly admit that I might get to heaven. If they would admit me I might be out in the visitor’s bullpen but at least I’d be there.  The Witnesses don’t even give me the chance at Hell since they don’t have one. Guys like me get to be instantly annihilated, do not pass go do not burn in Hell. Dante would not be impressed.  So, what the hell?  I’ll have to chat about this with the Deity Herself tonight over a beer.

As always I thank you for your prayers, kind words and thoughts.  Still some more left to do here.

Peace, Steve+

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May 12, 2009 · 15:56

Connecting…Baseball and Having My Dad Back for a Few Minutes

San_Francisco_Giants_logo

I visited my dad this morning at his nursing home and it was a good visit. The Deity Herself must have intervened, and I am glad about that.  Alzheimer’s is really a terrible disease.  It robs people of their mind long before they physically pass away.  Dad looks terrible and after yesterday I did not expect much, but I wanted to connect somehow.

On the way I picked him up a San Francisco Giants hat and shirt.  Dad has been a Giants fan since coming to the west coast back in the late 1950s.  When we moved up to Mudville in 1971 he would occasionally take us over to Candlestick Park to see them play. Admittedly this was a pretty decent trip so we didn’t go as often as I’m sure that he would have liked.  The first baseball game that dad took me to was in the summer of 1969 Seattle Pilots at Sick Stadium. I don’t remember what day it was, only that it was either a Saturday or Sunday day game which happened to be “Bat Day.”  In those days teams gave real bats to the kids.  I got one with the signature of Pilot’s First Baseman Mike Hegan.  I had the bat for years.  I think I finally broke it playing a pick-up game in the 1970s.  Dumb me; the damned thing would probably be worth a fortune now.   When we moved to Long Beach in 1970 we went to a lot of California Angels games.  This was in the time before they went through the crisis of what to call themselves.  You know, The California Angels, The Los Angeles Angels, the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim and finally now the Anaheim Angels.  Those were great times.  Dad was awesome in getting us to the game, helping us shag foul balls and teaching constantly at the game.  If we were not at the game we had it on the radio.  I still enjoy listening to baseball on the radio.  I mostly now listen to the Norfolk Tides when they are on the road.

Me and Lefty Phillips

When we moved to Mudville, dad like I said would take us to Giants games.  The most memorable of these was on August 24th 1975 when in the second game of a double header against the New York Mets, Ed Halicki threw a no-hitter.  That was cool; dad took me to see a game where a no hitter happened.  It was magic.  We would also attend Oakland A’s games.  This was back in the days of Charlie Finley’s ownership and the dynasty team that included Reggie Jackson, Sal Bando, Rollie Fingers, Vida Blue, Jim “Catfish” Hunter, Joe Rudi, Bert “Campy” Campanaris, “Mudcat” Grant and Paul Linnblad.  We saw a couple of the playoff games against the Detroit Tigers at the Oakland Coliseum in 1972. The A’s won both, Rollie Fingers picking up a win in relief and Blue Moon Odom shutting tehm down in the second.  In Mudville we would go see the Stockton Ports of the California League who at the time were part of the Baltimore Orioles farm system.

halicki no hitter

While we went to a lot of games it didn’t stop there. Dad from as early as I could remember would take me out to the back yard, vacant lot or school baseball field to teach me to pitch, throw and field.  When I saw the movie For the Love of the Game starring Kevin Costner there are old clips, home movie clips of Costner and his parents with his dad playing ball with him.  Those clips sent me back to my childhood when dad did that with me.

oakland a's 1972

Today I had my dad back for about five to seven minutes. They were a good five to seven minutes. The visit yesterday was not so good.  He was not very with it and very anxious.  Today he was calmer and I gave him the Giants hat. When he saw it his eyes lit up.  Then I gave him the shirt, and he smiled.  I then told him the Giants had taken two of three games over the weekend from the Dodgers and he said simply “Good.”  Dad is not a Dodgers fan unless they are playing in the World Series, then he is not a fan, but simply a National League partisan.  I told him about my season ticket with the Norfolk Tides and he said, “I wish I could go with you.”  I then thanked him for all that he taught me about the game and how he taught me to love it.  He said “at least I taught you something.”  I then told him that he had taught me a lot more about life than he might remember.  He smiled.  I told him how he used to take me to the back yard and play catch, teach me to pitch, and to field a ball cleaning as we played pepper.  I said “I still remember you telling me to keep my butt down and keep in front of ground balls.” He said “you have to do that.”  I told him any time that I was in the infield that I could hear his voice telling me to “keep your butt down.”  I did mention that he didn’t teach me how to hit and he said something that surprised me.  He said: “Son, to be a hitter takes a natural gift, a lot of people can’t hit.” I then said, “Well I’m one of them” and he smiled.

He asked me about the Navy and we talked for a minute or two about it.  Then he then started to get anxious and ask me to take him to the recreation room.  They were getting ready for an organ concert.  I wheeled him beside an older lady and he said. “That’s my son…He’s a Navy man too.”

I promised that I would see him again tomorrow.  I don’t know how he will be doing then but at least for a few minutes today I had him back.

Peace, Steve+

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May 11, 2009 · 19:15

The Journey to Mudville

Friends: I wrote this in several parts over the day on my trip. I do thank all those who have expressed sympathy as well as voiced prayers on our behalf. Thank you. Peace, Steve+

There are those times in life where one wonders what the hell is going on.  I sat in my seat between two other gentlemen on the fully booked Southwest Airline flight to Chicago. This was the first stop on my journey home to Mudville, sometimes known as Stockton, California.  The legend is that the poem Casey at the Bat is set in Stockton, and for a couple of years the Stockton Ports were reflagged as the Mudville Nine.  So in a sense I can claim Mudville as part of my baseball lineage.

The journey had begun inauspiciously enough when my cell phone’s alarm clock went off at 0430 to the tune of John Foggarty’s Centerfield.  That’s military time for 4:30 AM, or too frickin’ early… even by my standards.  Now true this is only 15-30 minutes earlier than I normally arise, but I have never been a morning person.  If I had been able to get to sleep at a decent hour this might not have been too bad.  However, I had spent a full day trying to get my shit together on Sunday and did not get to bed until after midnight.  Thankfully my sleep meds worked and I did get to sleep.  When the alarm went off I got my sorry ass up and set the snooze for ten minutes more. Molly the dog glared at me.  Evidently this was too early for her as well.  I finally got up and out of bed, showered and went downstairs to call a cab.  Of course the cab company couldn’t promise a cab before 0600 and since my flight was scheduled for 0645 I knew that this was definitely a no go.  Molly the dog decided that it was now time to come downstairs and demand to be let out so she could do her business.  This being done she collected her payment of a Milk Bone and went back to bed.  After having paid off Molly I loaded my suitcase and backpack into my trusty 2001 Honda CR-V and started off to the airport.  After Iraq I now consider airports as the gateway to hell.

Radio tuned to ESPN Sports Radio 1310 AM I received the news that my San Francisco Giants had beaten the Evil Dodgers at Chavez Ravine 7-5 in 13 innings, taking two of three from the now Mannyless Dodgers. While the Norfolk Tides had taken 2 of three from the hapless Buffalo Bisons which in the Mets organization had once been the Tides. The Mets as usual have decided to treat their AAA farm team badly and people in Buffalo after years of competitive seasons as a Cleveland Indians affiliate are opening complaining.  With the good news I stopped by my local 7-11 for a 24 ounce coffee with 4 French Vanilla creamers and 3 packets of Splenda and zipped off to I-264.  It was then that things started to get interesting and not in a good way.  I managed to find every stoplight and get behind every timid driver who couldn’t drive anywhere near the speed limit.  I’ve driven the Autobahns of Germany and cut my teeth in L.A. and a lot of people in Hampton Roads can’t drive nails, much less cars. I put my CR-V into warp factor eight, set the cloaking device and dodged in and out of traffic and took the secret wormhole into the airport to avoid even more stoplights.  It is patently a good thing that I know such things as I would shortly discover that I would need every second.

I pulled into the parking garage and saw that there were 26 spaces available on the second deck. I drove onto the deck and discovered that there were not 26 spaces but a big fat zero spaces available. Muttering a few things about the questionable parentage of the idiot who couldn’t count the difference between 26 and zero I drove my CR-V up to the 3rd deck.  The sign here said 16 spaces available…good I thought, certainly they couldn’t screw up two floors.  Damned if I wasn’t screwed again.  Here again the parking space counter of the previously mentioned questionable parentage had miscounted.  Instead of 16 spaces there were…you guessed it, zero, nada, nicht eine, yea even nary a single space available. Now calling to mind the probable oedipal practices of the individual of questionable parentage I moved up to the 4th deck.  Here I found success; albeit at the end of a row far from the terminal, but I had my spot…at least I didn’t have to keep going up.  I looked at my watch and knew I had to run. I did the O.J. (racing through the airport, not killing my wife) and I got down to the ticketing area where I was greeted by the sight of at least 250 people in the Southwest line.   I now only had 50 minutes to my flight departed.  Normally with Southwest this is easy. They are efficient and the line, if they have one at all it tends to move fast.  Today was like something out of the hell known as the Orlando International Airport.  Some group of 100 or so people had bumped everyone else aside. Likewise one of the big TSA baggage X-rays was down, turning this into a nightmare is grumbling people stewed wondering if they would make their flights.  I uttered some more #*@#%! words under my breath and then asked the Deity Herself to give me a break. Thankfully the Deity and the good people at Southwest ensured that line moved fast.  We received some help when the group who had gooned up the line was finished.  Then the agent called for my 0645 flight.  At this point all of now very late passengers stormed the ticket booth like revolutionaries storming the Bastille. Thankfully I had good position based on my position in the line. Expert that I am I weaved through the lesser experienced travelers. I slid into a self serve kiosk that no one else had spotted like Ricky Henderson would slide into second. As I got my boarding pass a pushy woman tried to bump me out of line. I didn’t like it; she was trying to crowd me out of line when I was there first.  Thankfully she was too dense to know that she needed to check her bags despite having a boarding pass in her hand.  The Southwest agent told her to get in a different line and I got my bag checked.  That task completed I did the O.J. and flew up the steps to the TSA checkpoint.  Jumping over a bank of chairs I managed to pass about 50 people only to discover that the nefarious group of 100 was already at the TSA checkpoint.  Once again the pushy lady tried to elbow her way through the line.  Since she obviously was a narcissist with no sense of propriety I cut her off. She looked at me like I was stupid, forgetting that we had had this little discussion just a few minutes before.  I said “ma’am, most of us are on your flight and are ahead of you.” Her jaw dropped and a TSA agent told her to get back echoing my words.   She looked at me and said “Will they hold the flight for me?”  To upset her, having faith in the Deity and Southwest, I lied and said, “Probably not.” Of course I didn’t believe this with so many of us in the same predicament. Yet I kind of enjoyed the look on her face as she moved back to her rightful place at the end of the line. Not the nicest thing to do, but some things need to be done.  I’m sure it was a sin.  As I asked one priest in confession: “Is it still a sin if they deserve it?” He told me: “Yes, but there may be some mitigating circumstances, but that is still a sin.”  Well there’s some more extra innings in Purgatory for me. Thankfully I am an expert traveler now, so when I got to the screening station I flew through it. Looking at my watch I knew that I had to be screwed. I had heard the final boarding call in the TSA line and it was past time for departure.  I raced down the concourse I saw that the Deity had already spoken to the kind folks at Southwest and had them hold the aircraft for all of us…the pushy lady included, proving that the Deity even cares for pushy narcissists. I guess that the rain falls on the just and the unjust alike.  Somehow I got through this episode without having a PTSD meltdown despite not having either a Xanax or beer to calm down.  Lot’s of deep breathing I guess helped this time.  Had I not made the flight I might have cracked, but the Deity Herself looked after me.

We arrived at Chicago Midway a little bit late, but in plenty of time to make my connecting fight to Sacramento, the alleged capitol of the State of California.  I say alleged because though there is much in the way of a state government in it there is painfully little evidence of effectiveness, despite having the Governator. Getting to Sacramento I picked up my luggage, which thankfully despite the lateness of my check-in got through.  If I had done the same on either Divided Airlines or U.S. Scare I’m sure that the luggage would not have made it on my flight, but would have ended up God knows where.  While waiting for my bag I had an e-mail from my mom about a run in that she had with a lady from hospice.  She was pretty spun up and my brother confirmed this.  I got my rental car, a 2009 Black Nissan Altima and headed down I-5 to Mudville.

When I got to Mudville I stopped by Raley’s to pick up the flowers that I told my mother would be arriving through a special arrangement with the florist.  Since I figured I should play this up for all that it was worth I decided to call and let her know that I had gotten her message.  She immediately launched into what was wrong with the world as I sat in my car in her driveway. I assured her that my brother and I would take care of things and that everything would be okay.  I knocked on the door with my phone in hand still talking to mom.  She told me someone was at the door and I said I would call back. She looked out the blinds which cover a window by the door, and then closed them, and then in disbelief opened them again. She was floored and stared in disbelief as I stood at the door, flowers in hand. I took her to the nursing home to see dad.  Somehow my nephew’s and niece managed to keep the secret the last two weeks. The surprise was total. He was glad to see me and immediately asked where Judy was.  He was disappointed that she was in Virginia. Unfortunately he looks in a lot worse shape than he was last year.  After the visit which included talks with the nursing staff and billing office I took my mom to Chile’s.

Now the hard part really starts.  Have to go up and see my dad.  I’ll be getting mom to the funeral home as well as make arrangements with their church for the memorial service at a date to be determined.  Following this I will be helping my brother with selling my parents old grave plots back to the cemetery in Napa where they lived a few years back. Then I will work on insurance issues between the insurance company and the nursing home.  The insurance company is being stupid right now.  The first 6 months they paid and now despite no change they are claiming that the nursing home is entering the wrong billing codes and say that they have the case “under investigation.”  However, since they have set precedent they should keep paying.  If they don’t start soon my brother and I will have to sue their sorry asses for putting my mom through hell.  If dad was with it he would be pissed.

So now that I am in Mudville I have work to do.  Take care and keep us all in your prayers.

Peace, Steve+

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May 7, 2009 · 15:38

Baseball in Between Life and Death in the ICU

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I have had a number of patients in my ICUs who are or in the case of some who have passed away avid baseball fans.  Likewise there are a number of physicians and nurses who are avid fans of the game, or sometimes certain teams.  Like me the are members of the Church of Baseball.  Some even attend my parish, Harbor Park.  It is funny how in the intersection of life and death that baseball finds a place more than any other sport.  Baseball has a quality and nuance that is different from most other sports, save perhaps golf.  Baseball is not bound by the constraints of time.  It has an eternal quality that somehow transcends life and death. Two of my favorite attending physicians are big fans and one coaches on the side.

There is a scene in The Babe Ruth Story where a critically ill child asks the Babe to hit a home run for him.  The Babe then went out and hit two.  Later in the movie when the Babe is dying of cancer he is given a Miraculous Medal.  The film was rushed to completion before Ruth died and the scene at Yankee Stadium was filmed shortly before a game and Ruth came from his death bed to be there.

In Field of Dreams the spirits of the 1919 White Sox who were forced out of baseball in the “Blacksox” scandal.  The Pride of the Yankees deals with the life of Lou Gehrig, baseball’s original “Iron Man” and his battle with ALS.  His speech at Yankee Stadium when he retired from the game is classic.  It is a reflection on life well lived and thanksgiving for what he experienced.

LouGehrigDay

Lou Gehrig at Lou Gehrig Day July 4th 1939

“Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about a bad break I got. Yet today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth. I have been in ballparks for seventeen years and I have never received anything but kindness and encouragement from you fans. Look at these grand men. Which of you wouldn’t consider it the highlight of his career just to associate with them for even one day? Sure I’m lucky. Who wouldn’t have considered it an honor to have known Jacob Ruppert? Also, the builder of baseball’s greatest empire, Ed Barrows? To have spent six years with that wonderful little fellow, Miller Huggins? Then to have spent the next nine years with that outstanding leader, that smart student of psychology, the best manager in baseball today, Joe McCarthy? Sure, I’m lucky. When the New York Giants, a team you would give your right arm to beat and vice versa, sends you a gift, that’s something. When everybody down to the groundskeeper and those boys in white coats remember you with trophies, that’s something. When you have a father and mother work all their lives so that you can have an education and build your body, it’s a blessing. When you have a wife who has been a tower of strength and shown more courage than you dreamed existed, that’s the finest I know. I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the Earth. And I might have been given a bad break, but I’ve got an awful lot to live for.” – July 4, 1939 at Yankee Stadium on Lou Gehrig Appreciation Day

These are intersections of life and death.  In the ICUs I have a surprising amount of dealings with baseball.  I have a lady who is very sick.  She is a delightful woman with a wonderful husband. She looked like she was on the uptick a couple of days ago we had a great talk, and wonderful time.  We found that we shared a common passion…you guessed it, baseball. We agreed that the Biblical writers describing heaven being unaware of the Deity’s love of baseball had erred in their description of heaven. We agreed that heaven had to have not streets of gold, but the lushest turf and most immaculate infield, with foul lines that went into infinity.   She and her husband watched the Nationals and Astros play deep into the night.  Yesterday she took a turn for the worse.  As we visited we visited I prayed and anointed her at her request.  And I asked her if she would like a baseball. Her eyes lit up and she nodded “yes.”  So I promised that I would get one from the stadium last night.  Well, the Devil got in the mix and the Tides got rained out, so I went home.  I found a ball that I got when throwing out the first pitch at a Kinston Indians game a few years back.  I inscribed it to her and took it to her room. She was pretty heavily sedated, but her sister was with her.  I let her know that I had the baseball for her.  She opened her eyes and I put the ball in her hand.  Her hand gripped it tight and I blessed her.

I do pray that she will get better.

Peace, Steve+

grainger stadiumGranger Stadium Kinston NC

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May 5, 2009 · 16:41

Rainy Days on Mondays and Tuesdays Always Get Me Down…Especially on Game Night

Last night was a disappointment.  We had our second rain out of the year at Harbor Park.  I got to the the stadium just prior to what should have been the first pitch.  We were already delayed, but the radio announcer on 1310 AM sports radio say that he thought that they might get the game in.  Boy was he wrong.   I got to the park and had my usual chat with Chip the usher for section 202, my friend and usher Elliott visiting family and slacking in Massachusetts this week.  I also talked with Ray and Bill the Vietnam Veteran  Beer vendors and Kenny over at the King Twist Pretzel stand.  As I was getting my cup of Gordon Biersch Marzen the rain started coming down again.  Like really heavy.  I went over and got my pretzel, this time salted with Guilden’s Spicy Brown Mustard and continued to visit on the concourse.  I did not even dare to try to take my seat in section 102 row B.  Far too exposed to the elements. The rain continued as me and my stadium buddies talked about life, baseball the military and other assorted subjects.

I’ve never been a big fan of rain, especially when I have to be out in it.  I have never been fond of the tropics for this very reason.  I always figured with my love for the military that had I served in World War II that I would have done very well with Rommel and the Afrika Korps, but not so well at Guadalcanal.  To my Vietnam era brothers, I’ll take the desert of my Iraq any day over the Mekong Delta.  When I deployed with the Marines to Okinawa in 2000-2001 I was ever so glad to go to Camp Fuji Japan and to South Korea for this very reason.  I don’t like to be out in the rain.  I know that we need it, but I still don’t like it.  I hate to clean mud off of me or dry out clothing and not only that there are the vermin.  Snakes, bugs and all sorts of slithery and slimy creatures that you can’t see loaded with all sorts of poisons and disease.  There are patently some of those things in the desert, but they are easier to spot.

We in addition to contenting with the infernal rain, we had a leak at the hospital which involved my office.  It was damaged by the leak, not nearly as badly as my next door neighbor Carl, but enough to warrant me getting called at home and to have to wait for maintenance people half of the morning.  That is now fixed and as I look at the fresh ceiling tile, untouched by moisture I breathe a sigh of relief.  I look in my trash can and see the goo of the former ceiling tiles which look like regurgitated oatmeal with mold on it, and I can only thank God for Grace.  Not God’s Grace, which I am always thankful to the Deity Herself for, but for Grace the lady who faithfully cleans my office who found the leak and reported it.  God does look after Her miscreant baseball loving Priests, and once again I am thankful.

It has been raining all day today.  I do feel that this is the Devils work for only the Devil could be involved in trying to rain out more one game in a short homestead.  I will head over to Harbor Park and hopefully this infernal rain will relent and we will be graced by baseball tonight. If not, I’ll have my beer and hot dog and go home when they call it after conversation with my friends on the concourse.

Blessings, Steve+

Post Script:  The Deity Herself smiled upon us.  The rain ended and we got game one in before it started coming down again.  The Tides won on a combined 2 hit shutout by starter Rich Hill and Matt Albers.  Hill was in his 3rd rehab start with the Tides.  Tarps we being readied as I left the stadium between the two games.   The weather radar shows some pretty heavy weather coming up from the southwest.  I do think that the Devil may take the nightcap away.   I had a nice time talking with Chip, Ray, Bill and Kenny up on the concourse.  Had an older gentleman who said that he played for the 1969 Tides sat next to me with his brother who knew little about the game.  The older gentleman knew the game and when his less than knowledgeable brother got distracted on the concourse for a couple of innings we had a nice talk.  All in all a nice night.  Hopefully tomorrow is even better. Peace, Steve+

Second Post Script: Despite the Devil’s best efforts the Deity Herself ensured that the weather held at Harbor Park for the Tides to take the nightcap from the Clippers 5-2.  This in spite of a 17 minute power outage.  The weather is now coming in fast.  David Hernadez got the win for theTides and Jim Miller the save. Nolan Reimold, Scott Moore and Oscar Salazer all doubled and Mike Costanzo tripled.

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May 2, 2009 · 21:45

Random Musings-Dos De Mayo, Flu Precautions gone wild Baseball and the Burbs

Today we had a little get together with some friends to celebrate Dos De Mayo.  It was a nice gathering, plenty of great food, good beer and nice conversation.  After folks had left our friends Diane and Tim made a late appearance after the evening Mass.  It was good to spend a couple of hours with them as well.

We were informed that to take no chances regarding the Swine Flu that the Diocese of Richmond has imposed a number of rules regarding the liturgy.  During the Peace there will be no shaking hands, hugging, kissing, snuggling or heavy petting.  Instead parishioners will make a slight bow to each other kind of like those in a Japanese War Movie.  This is not all, during the Lord’s Prayer there will be no hand holding.  While I am a proponent of taking the potential threat of H1N1 seriously, see my previous posts in which I castigate people who don’t,  I don’t think that these steps would stop the spread of H1N1 in any parish.  First there is the whole airborne nature of the virus: “cough cough hack” and all those germs go floating through the church looking for a nice set of young wet lungs to take up residence.  But to totally defeat anything else that they are doing the diocese is still serving communion under two species.  For Protestants that is the bread and the wine, common cup style.  Thus there is a “cough cough and hack” and into the cup goes a nice H1N1 “loogie,” a really sweet addition to the Communion Rite.

Now I don’t propose going to ludicrous speed just yet, the threat while real still needs evaluation.  The problem is when people go to ludicrous speed like the Richmond Diocese they look stupid if the virus is not as bad as first thought. People tend to get angry at those who inconvenienced them and then get careless regarding future threats.  It’s like calling wolf.  If the wolf isn’t there then people start to ignore future warnings.  That is when the trouble begins.  People over react to a threat and if it is not as bad then they get ignored the next time when they are actually right about the threat.   I see this attitude already showing up and the full extent of this outbreak is not even known.  No as I told a person at work, I don’t want any outbreak right now.  I want this to go away.  My reason is really not that noble.  I’m sorry, it’s baseball season and for the first time in my life I have a season ticket.  I’ll be darned if I want an outbreak now.   This thing better be less widespread and potent.

Speaking of baseball the day was not good for my teams.  The Giants and O’s both lost as did the Tides.  The A’s are currently losing in the bottom of the 4th to Seattle.  I guess it could be worse…I could be a Met’s fan. Tomorrow is a new day, but a loss in May counts the same as a loss in September.  The Tides come back in town Monday for a 4 game series with the Columbus Clippers who are now affiliated with the Cleveland Indians. The weather could make things interesting, a pretty good chance of showers each day.

I got my final grade for my last class prior to comprehensive exams in my Masters Degree in Military History at American Military University.  It has been a good course of study.  My concentration was in World War Two, but other required classes got me interested in counter-insurgency.  I did a lot of work dealing with the French in Indo-China and Algeria and the United States in the Philippine War of 1899-1902 and in Vietnam.  That turn prepared me well for my tour in Iraq working with the advisers to the Iraqi 1st and 7th Divisions, 2nd Border Brigade, Police and Highway Patrol in Al Anbar Province.  I completed the class program keeping a 4.0 GPA the entire program.  I have lost track of the amount of papers, posts and readings that I have done in the past three years.  At the same time I feel much more well rounded for the effort.  This is another step to achieving a Masters in History which I had to delay back in 1983.  If things go as I think I will start the comprehensives in June.  My grade posted too late to register for May.  It is probably for the best as I will be traveling out to assist my parents the middle of this month.

I finished the evening by watching the movie The Burbs starring Tom Hanks, Bruce Dern and Carrie Fisher.  It is about a neighborhood gone mad.  I love watching it.  Tonight I caught it while channel surfing on HBO.  Tom Hanks and his friends go to ludicrous speed in trying to figure out if new neighbors led by Henry Gibson are mass murderers.   It is a fun movie and I think that Carrie Fisher looks great in it.

Anyway, have a great night.

Peace, Steve+

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May 1, 2009 · 21:57

Beer and Donuts

Tonight after a hard week for Judy and a reasonably sporty week on the ICU for me, Judy and I went out to dinner at Gordon Biersch.  Patently we are preparing for our Dos De Mayo party and while I have been at work Judy has been working her ass off to cook and clean all week in preparation for this celebration.

Now our  Dos De Mayo is actually a celebration of the fact that we know that the Mexicans will kick the ass of the French on Cinco De Mayo at the battle of Puebla in 1862. The Mexicans were outnumbered 2-1 and whipped up on the French, allowing the Americans who were involved in a brother on brother bloodletting known as the Civil War continue. This enabled Americans to kill each other  to kill each other in peace without the help of any European powers for the next 2 1/2 years. This preserved American sovereignty and kept the evil European Union out of the United States for the next 150 years.  This Independence lasted until a descendant of Robert E. Lee, President Barak Obama, surrendered American sovereignty to Europe in late 2009 and early 2010.  Of course this is mostly BS but it does makes for a great tall tale from someone who has just a bit of Irish blood in him due to the grace of the Deity Herself.

An interesting but little known fact is that Cinqo de Mayo is only locally celebrated in Mexico in the state of Puebla.  The celebration actually began in California where until that time state workers had no state holidays.

The Mexican victory was decidedly helpful to the Union armies who despite a poor opening managed to come back under US Grant and William T. Sherman to decidedly defeat the Confederate armies in the final innings of this brutal game.  Abner Doubleday, who by some accounts invented the game of baseball gets credit for helping to stem the Confederate tide on day one at the Battle of Gettysburg.

Grant got the win and celebrated by donating the liquor for all in the clubhouse after General Robert E. Lee surrendered at Appomattox in April 1865.  This helped bring about the tradition of popping Champagne bottles when a baseball team wins a championship series or the World’s series. Though the South led through the middle of the game, the Union took charge and won the war in in regulation without having to go into extra innings.  This latter comment may be interpreted differently if one assumes that the war was not ended for another 100 years with people like Nathaniel Bedford Forrest and his fellow Klansmen taking over for Lee in extra innings.   Patently though they attempted to keep the game alive, it was over at Appomattox, Forest, the Klan and their supporters simply hung on like Dodgers’ fans after the 1951 Championship Game between the Evil Brooklyn Dodgers and the New York Giants in 1951.

This being said the idea of beer and donuts going together is not all that strange, after all there are many deserts which combine alcohol and sugar.  It is just the fact that something is right about a hot and fresh Krispy Kreme and a good pilsner or lager.  Tonight’s brew is a Harp’s Lager from Ireland.  Somehow I think that the Irish had to be the originators of the beer and donut combination.  I think the Brits would think the combination insulting, the French uncultured, the Italians unromantic and the Germans simply illegal.  Only the Irish could come up with this succulent combination.

So all that aside we have discovered a wonderful desert combination.  Hot and Fresh Krispy Creme Donuts and a good beer.  Life doesn’t get much better than this.  It is a yin and yang kind of thing.  You get the sugar rush from the donuts but the beer counteracts the rush.  There is patently a chemistry that only the Deity Herself understands in this.  Well tomorrow is Dos De Mayo and I will have to be up early to help Judy get ready.

As far as the Tides, they beat the Scranton-Wilkes Barre Yankees on the road, 14-7 ending a 3 game losing streak.  Tides sluggers Nolan Reimold and Oscar Salazar each hit home runs while starting pitcher Chris Tillman got the win.  Reimold has already taken 8 out of the park this year.  He is really the first serious home run hitter that the Tides have had since we have lived in the area. The Tides will come back home for a 4 game series against the Columbus Clippers on Monday. I think I will get three of these games in before the Tides and I come back into town about the middle of the month.

Peace and blessings,

Steve+

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April 30, 2009 · 21:48

April Baseball in Norfolk…Thank God for Global Warming

April is at long last over.  Though officially spring, the weather in Norfolk or the Hampton Roads area is often miserable.  It can and usually is cold, rainy and windy.  Low temps often are in the 40s and sometimes early in the month in the 30s.  While this is pretty pathetic compared to the Great Plains, Great Lakes and Northeast where winter doesn’t really end until like June, it is still a pain in the ass.  Especially if you are a member of the Church of Baseball, Harbor Park Parish.  Since I am a member of said parish the weather here in April hath great interest for me.  I think it was our first season here, I don’t refer to them as years, they are indeed seasons, that we went to our first home opener at Harbor Park.  To be succinct we were totally unprepared for the climatological experience having just come up from Jacksonville Florida.  In other words on the 3rd of April or whatever it was, we froze our asses off.

I really can’t remember if it was the 2004 or 2005 home opener the weather was quite sporty and very cold.  The temperature at game time was 38 degrees.  There was a wind coming out of Center Field blowing into our face at a steady 25-30 mph with gusts to 45.  You can figure the wind chill yourself, but to say the least it was cold as hell behind the plate at Harbor Park.   Now we came prepared.  We had heavy jackets, long  johns and layered clothing.  Yet we were still cold as hell.  I ended up spending a bunch of money on a Norfolk Tides blanket to go over us, instead of beer we were mainlining coffee and hot cocoa to try to stay warm.  Despite all that we did to keep warm we were driven from the park by the 7th inning stretch.  I’m sure that the ever patient Judy would have wished to depart a fair amount sooner, but there is something almost unholy and heretical to me about leaving a game early.  It’s like doing the “down and out” after Eucharist at church.  Catholics understand this, the people receive communion and continue walking out the door without waiting for the closing prayer and benediction.  However, in this case, in order to keep warm I finally gave in and took Judy home.  Weather of this kind has not been a singular experience in our stay here.  I have spent a fair amount of money on jackets, blankets and sweatshirts at Harbor Park as well as a few other stadiums just to stay warm.  Time and time again in April we have frozen our asses off watching ball games.  I have talked with the Deity Herself about this but She has basically told me to “Suck it up” as it “builds character.”  Since I have been labeled a character by some I guess that Her plan for me is working.

This year has been a mix of weather.  We have had a couple of very nice nights for baseball.  In fact I worn a t-shirt, cargo shorts and Birkenstocks on Tuesday night.  Last night we were back to cold weather with a lot of wind. It was cold enough for me to leave my seat and try to stay warm.  After making a deposit of my rental beer (one can never really buy beer) I went to get a to get a charcoal grilled King-Twist pretzel.  I made sure that I stayed up at the warm fire produced by the charcoal at the pretzel stand as long as I could while eating my cinnamon sugar pretzel.  After finishing this I took my second rented beer, a Gordon Biersch Marzen, and hung out with Chip, the usher for section 202.  Chip is a retired Navy Chief who served in submarines.  Over the past few years we have gotten to know each other.  He’s a great guy. After a nice conversation with Chip I moved down the stairs  to hang out with Elliott, the usher for my section 102 on the walk separating the 100 level from the 200 level. This is Elliott’s first year as an usher and he knows his baseball as does Chip. It is fun just to talk about life, baseball and faith with these guys.

So Elliott and I leaned up against the rail and talked about the game, life and family as I drank my rented beer.  One of the cool things about being a season ticket holder is that the park becomes like a comfortable pub where you relax and enjoy life with people who love the game.  For me this is pretty cool.  No matter how tough a day I might have, the calm brought about by the simple view of the diamond settles and centers me.

While hanging out with Elliott I was able to grab a foul ball which had come straight back and bounced off the press box into my my hands.  This was the second ball in two days that I had picked up.  The first was the night before when I outran a couple of drunks for a foul ball that had come back over the grandstand as I walked to my car.  Having kept that ball I gave it to the only kid left in my section of the stadium.  This was a hearty lad not more than four years old sitting with his equally hearty family.  Mom expressed her gratitude, the lad said thank you and it made me look like a nice guy and I still got to keep a ball.  Actually, the times a Harbor Park I have got a foul ball I have given it to a kid. This is not because I am a nice guy.  The truth is that I am like an evangelist for the Church of Baseball.  I remember what it was like to get my first baseball at Anaheim Stadium when I got one from Angels outfielder Billy Cowan.  I want to ensure that these young people join the one true church and not one of the apostate sects like football or basketball. As I said previous night I had picked up a ball that came over the grandstand while heading to the parking lot.  Since I was the only kid out there I figured that it was mine, the drunks behind me who were stumbling to try to catch me would have to fend for themselves.

As it were the weather stayed cold and windy.  I finally looked at Elliott and said “Thank God for Global Warming or we would really be freezing our asses off.”  Elliott laughed and said that he would have to remember that one and use it.  Chip also agreed. In April and early May I do have to thank the Deity Herself for global warning.  Come July and August I will be arguing with her that She needs to cool things down and She as usual will tell me to stop complaining and enjoy the game at the Harbor Park Parish of the Church of Baseball.

Peace, Steve+

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April 26, 2009 · 14:38

Life in the Ninth Inning- The Game is Never Over Until the Last Out

Today I marked a milestone in my academic life.  I completed the course requirements for my Master of Arts in Military History.  For me this means, at least in this program I am entering the 9th inning.  I have two other graduate degrees as well as a professional hospital residency and I am a graduate of the Marine Corps Command and Staff College.   I’ve been doing graduate level work for years.  I was a history major as an undergraduate and did a year of masters level work before I was commissioned in the Army in 1983. Being tired and broke, I elected not to take an educational delay to complete the masters in history at that time.

However, I never stopped loving history.  In seminary it was Church History that led me to an Anglo-Catholic Sacramental World view.  While this was reinforced by subjects such as Systematic Theology, Philosophy and Ethics, it was history that did me in.  Thus I have continued to study always hoping that I would get the chance to pick up the MA in History, despite my other degrees and studies.  I think that history, if you do it right and don’t subscribe to myth and believe everything you read is good preparation for many other academic and even complementary to scientific fields. So I am very happy today.  I hope my run continues, I have not had less than an A in any class in the program and would hate to have a B.  That to me would be mortifying. Okay, I’m competitive.  I don’t like to lose and I hate being wrong.  I do patently do both, but I don’t like it.  I was thrown out of a Church softball game back in college and I have been known to say my peace sometimes in a very un-peaceful manner.  I really get upset when I am the one who makes the mistake.  However, this too is part of life.  Note my adventures in trying to put my uniform together for the Dining Out in yesterday’s post- The Dining Out. That was a comedy of errors, thankfully despite that I kept my head and got out with the save.

Anyway, the 9th inning is something that we all have to do in life.  For me at this time the 9th inning is the completion of my degree.  With the completion of this last class, I am out of the 8th and I’m going into the 9th.  I kind of cruised through my last class as it was an entry level course that I had put off to the end.   I did not put the same effort into it as I had other courses simply because I felt that I needed to take it a bit easier with all the things going on in my life.  However, I still have to do my Comprehensive Exams to be awarded the degree.  I need to complete the 9th.  This will be harder than the 8th, though I do not expect to have any problems with it.

There are parallels in almost every area of life, even in faith.  How we do life is important, faith matters but practice even more.  You can see the same in sports, politics, academics, and daily life and work.  I find that a lot of people are bad a closing things out.  I have known a lot of people who are smarter, more talented and better looking than  me who don’t finish well.  The 9th inning is all about finishing well.  Like baseball you don’t get out of the 9th unless you get the three required outs. There is nothing more frustrating than having the lead in the 9th and losing.

My life now is about being the old catcher or coach who helps the young guys learn this lesson early.  It is not enough to have a great 8 innings, you have to get through the 9th.  As I work with young people, be they clergy, seminarians, interns and resident physicians, young enlisted sailors and Marines, it is my desire to help them finish well.  I want them to succeed and will do whatever I can to help them in the process.

Have a great day and finish well. Peace, Steve+

Note: The Tides won again today 7-0 over the Bulls.  They have a day off tomorrow and host the Gwinett Braves for two games on Tuesday and Wednesday…those games I will go to. The Tides are back in first place at 11-5.  Hopefully the O’s will not come and take all the good guys too soon. We are having a lot more fun here in Norfolk than any time since 2004 when we took the International League Southern Division and got in the playoffs.

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April 23, 2009 · 22:58

Unearned Runs and Life

Today was one of those days where things went a lot better than the previous couple of days.  I mentioned yesterday about a situation that I needed to deal with at work.  I was able to do so with wonderful support from my boss, co-workers and especially my wife.  Special thanks go to Judy my wife and Jessie my boss and department director.  Both through their sage advice and love kept me from doing something that might have satisfied my desires but been damaging had I did it in the venue that I wanted, right here.  It was one of those times that I learned to listen and not act on impulse.  In the past I might have, to use a military term “fallen on my sword.”  This is where in order to make a point you commit career suicide.  The thing is about “falling on your sword” is that you tend to only get to do it once, whether you do it intentionally, or whether you get yourself into a situation where you lose control and make a costly mistake.  So you must pick when and where and for what you are willing to do it.  So it better be worth it. Likewise you have to be careful not to put youself in the position of making the costly mistake.  Today was not worth it, those who I rely on as my sanity check kept me from doing this allowing my inner Romulan to reemerge and get control of myself before I even went up to take care of the situation.

Falling on one’s sword is like an unearned run in baseball.  For the people who still need to get saved and become a member of the Church of Baseball, unearned runs are things that you do which give the opposing team runs that they did not earn.  Unearned runs come mainly come from walks and errors, though wild pitches, passed balls and errant throws. These kind of mistakes allow the other team to get runners on base that should have been out.  In baseball the lead off walk, the two out walk or error is often fatal to the team that allows it to happen. There is also the type of unearned run that comes when a pitcher decides to throw at a batter when it would go in against the best interests of the club.  Maybe he does it because the batter hit a dinger the previous at bat, maybe for some other reason.  The effect is often even worse.  The pitcher gets the other team fired up, the batter gets a free pass to first and the pitcher then has to face the next batter with runners on base against a team that is now fired up.

I saw the former happen to the Durham Bulls tonight.  An error in the bottom of the sixth on a pick off attempt put a runner into scoring position who the scored on a soft base hit to right.  The Tides won the game 4-3 and improved their record to 9 and 4 moving to a half game behind the Bulls in the International League Southern Division The night was a great night for a ball game, just a little bit chilly, but such is April in Hampton Roads.  Tomorrow the Tides and the Bulls play again, 7:15 at Harbor Park.

Today I was able to get what I needed on the table in a public forum.  I was angry enough that to use the baseball analogy I was ready to throw at a certain individual’s head.  Instead after talking with the manager, I was able to do a brush back which got his attention.  Doing this I was  protected by my boss and affirmed by my colleagues.  And I didn’t even use any course language.  When I told this to Judy she said something like “that’s amazing.”  Something that I patently agree with and I am sure that the Deity Herself prevented me from allowing any unearned runs today.  This actually felt good.  After about 28 years in the business I am finally learning.

Finally I have to admit that I work with probably the best team of Chaplains that I have in my career.  To all of you, you are the best.  Thanks for helping me through the past couple of days and helping me not to  a costly error.

Peace, Steve+

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