Tag Archives: dodgers

June 16, 2010 · 00:12

Meeting Jesus and the Team at 7-11

One of my customs on my way to work is to stop by my local 7-11 for a cup of French Vanilla Coffee with 3 French Vanilla coffee creamers, course brown sugar and a packet of Splenda when I pick up my garden salad which I consume for lunch at work. It is always a nice break for me on the way to work to smell the fresh coffee and take the time to prepare my cup of coffee exactly the way that I like it, which by the way before Iraq was not like this. Back before Iraq I always drank it black with no cream or sugar but alas all good things…right? Anyway as I was saying on this particular day I went to my neighborhood 7-11 to get my coffee and my salad the usual blue collar crowd was getting their coffee as I walked in with my orange and black trimmed retro-Baltimore Orioles Cal Ripken Junior jersey and home black and orange billed cap with the traditional Oriole on the front. I am a stickler for tradition and though every major league team have caps that little resemble the on the field caps in various colors and designs I refuse to wear any but the authentic head gear, preferably a New Era Wool 59/50 fitted cap or the 39/30 batting practice cap. This kind of sets me apart from most customers who if they wear baseball gear wear the non-regulation stuff of winning teams like the Yankees or Red Sox but I digress.

On this particular morning there was a man that walked in as I was preparing my cup of coffee a man walked up beside me. He was about 5’ 8” and looked like that he was from Lebanon or somewhere else in to Middle East. I say Lebanon because I have known many Lebanese my mind went that way. I noticed that his hands were rough hewn and had some very nasty looking scars in them and he wore a pair of sports sandals much like the kind that I wear from which I could see some scars on either foot. He was wearing what appeared to be a retro “Cooperstown Classic” California Angels “CA” cap with the red bill and halo as well as a late 1960s or early 1970s Angel’s jersey which appeared to be game worn with the number “7” sewn on the back.

As I put my first creamer into my coffee he turned and looked at me and asked “Orioles fan?” Now I frequently get comments about whatever baseball apparel that I wear, especially the Orioles and the comments general reflect a certain pity due to the sad state of the franchise and especially the performance this year. I said “Yes sir, one of the faithful.”

He chuckled and said, “Someone has to remain faithful to the Orioles, God love ‘em, they have been a great franchise and all of great teams the Hall of Famers that they have produced.” He shook his head “You just keep being faithful, they’re just going through some pretty hard times right now….by the way, I’m a baseball fan too, would you guess an Angels’ fan?”

“We’ll sir that goes without saying; I don’t think that I have seen a game worn 1970s Angels’ jersey since my dad used to take us to the “Big A” to see them as kids. We went to games down there all the time; it’s where I really came to love the game of baseball.”

“Yes my friend there is something special about baseball, it’s really good when dads get their kids involved in the game.” He paused. “Oh the jersey, this jersey does date me a little; I’ve always been an Angels’ fan, even before they were in Anaheim.”

“So you were a Los Angeles Angels fan too?”

“We’ll yeah, in a way, but even before that considering that I created them.”

I was tearing the foil top off of the third creamer when he said that and I kind of lost control of the container and spilled in on the stainless steel counter. As I stood there feeling quite inept he said, “Sorry man, my fault I’ll get that” and as my wondering eyes stared in disbelief he waved his rough hewn and scarred hand gently about a foot off of the counter and to my amazement the white creamer disappeared from the countertop revealing a perfectly clean and shiny surface as the little blue cup that it was in sailed into the trash receptacle’s round hole in the top of the counter.

He continued to talk as he poured a cup of 7-11 “Heavenly Blend” coffee into a 24 ounce cup, and another 24 ounce cup and yet another 24 ounce cup handing them to other customers as he did so and miraculously the coffee pot remained full as he kept pouring until all the customers and counter staff each had a cup of coffee. “So anyway like I was saying back when I created the Angels baseball was different, no steroids, players stayed with a team forever unless perhaps it wasn’t God’s will. If it wasn’t then you never knew what might happen.”

I stood by dumbly looking at this diminutive man with the scarred hands and feet pouring out cup after cup of coffee from the bottomless pot of coffee and I was I was quite impressed with his performance and said: “Sir that is impressive I’ve never seen the pot remain full like that before though being poured out into many cups, 24 ounce cups at that.”

He chuckled and said “Steve, I tell you what it’s all in the wrist, all in the wrist.” His eyes sparkled in amusement at my dismay as I stammered “But how did you know my name?”

“But I should since you know me.”

“I know you?” I asked. “Have we served together in the military?”

“No not that, kind of like Church work, you kind of work for me even though you’re in the Navy.”

“How did you know I was in the Navy?”

“Well duh… Steve, this is Norfolk, what else is here?” Looking at me with a amused but slightly more serious glance he said “Hey, I helped get you in the Navy when the Army told you to pound sand about going onto active duty.”

“You weren’t my recruiter, or the Chaplain that interviewed me and you are way too short to be Bishop Doug.”

“Think higher and bigger Steve, let your mind open up a little bit.” He paused “Like you did notice my hands and feet didn’t you?”

“Well yeah…but I really haven’t woken up until I get that first cup of coffee in me and well a lot of people have scars on their hands….” And then it hit me. “Oh, my God, you’re Jesus.”

“Of course I am and yes I am your God, so you’re right there too…it took you a little bit now you’re cooking with gas.”

“But this is like 7-11?”

“Yeah I know, I like the coffee and the people are pretty down to earth, they tend to appreciate when someone does something nice for them, even if it is God.”

“We’ll I come here for the same reasons.”

“Well at least you’ve learned something.” He paused, put his hand on my shoulder and said “Finish foo-fooing your coffee and come with me; I want you to meet some of my friends.” He turned and said to May the Filipina behind the counter “May, how much do I owe you for everything?”

“Mr. Jesus sir that is $84.35 with tax” said the short and slightly heavy set lady at the cash register.

“May, put it on the card” said the Lord.

“You got it Mr. Jesus” said the cheery Filipina at the register and without any transaction that my failing eyes could see the cashier rang up Jesus and miraculously the bill was paid in full. Since this Padre Steve believes in miracles but is not necessarily seeing them at 7-11 in as many varied forms as the rather unbiblical, or shall I say rather earthy and dare I say contemporary looking Lord was performing in my humble neighborhood 7-11.

“You know her?”

“Of course I do Steve, I know my people and I love them, didn’t you read that in your Bible somewhere?”

Well…uh…yes I think I have….somewhere in the Gospels, I am never good at quoting chapter and verse.”

“Unless it is the latest Tides box score, right?”

“Jesus, that’s really not fair, you do that too I’m sure.”

“Yeah, but can’t get away from it and you a Priest or do I have to remind you?”

“I guess.”

“That’s better, thank you, let’s meet my friends.”

I walked out the door and a number of guys who also looked a tad on the Lebanese or Arabic side of the house were gathered around a extended Chevy suburban. I looked at the vehicle and asked Jesus “this belongs to you?”

The Lord drew the brim of his cap back revealing a bit of his forehead shook his head and said “Steve, Steve, I own everything, but this belongs to Peter over there, he has a thing for them.” A burley man with a pony-tail, curly flowing beard a tattoo of a fish on his forearm and a New York Yankees cap waved at me and said “Dude, where does Jesus know you from, you and that loser Orioles gear that you have on.” A number of others in Yankee caps laughed and slapped the big man on the back.

“Peter, remember the first shall be last, one day what comes around goes around, don’t forget the CBS years in New York.”

“Oh, don’t remind me of that boss, that sucked, we didn’t win anything back then.” The men around in Yankees caps also stopped laughing and looked down.

“Anyway, Steve, meet the boys, you’ve already met Peter, but this is James and his brother John” both wore Oakland Athletics caps and matching Kelly green T-shirts, “they call them the sons of thunder because of their hitting ability, some call them the Bash brothers but don’t tell Canseco and McGuire, I think they have a patent on that.”

I extended my hand “nice to meet you” and the brothers greeted me in a cheery manner.

“Over here is Old James, some people call him the elder and he’s not got much left in the legs but is a good DH.” He paused and looked across the way where on the other side of the hood of the suburban two other guys stood, one had a Red Sox hat, another a Reds cap and one a Nationals hat. “Andrew, Philip, Nathaniel, this is Steve, he’s a brother.”

One of the young men a bit on the thin side wearing the Nationals hat called out “Brother! Jesus how can you say that? Can anything good come out of Baltimore?”

“Nat, knock it off until Strasburg and Storen win you a pennant you ain’t got room to talk.” He looked to the front of the store where a number of others talked among themselves eating breakfast burritos and drinking coffee. “Hey guys come and introduce you to Steve; he’s a Navy Chaplain and a Priest.”

“Priest huh? I doubt that he’s got an Orioles jersey on” called out a smallish man in a Cubs hat.

“Steve forgive him, he doubts everyone.” Looking at the Cubs fan he said “Thomas must you, haven’t we had this talk already?” He then introduced the others. One was a man without a ball cap that was wearing a sports jacket and had a briefcase. “This is Matthew, our tax attorney, used to work for the IRS, glad to have him in the front office, not everyone needs to be on the field do they buddy?” Jesus pointed at another one of the men and said “this over here is Simon the Zealot.” Simon wore a Tigers cap and Jesus looked at me and said “he’s pretty fanatical plays hard every day, a lot like Ty Cobb.” Another was beside these men, a man in a Cardinals cap, rather quiet and reserved looked up and said hello to me. Jesus said “that’s Thaddeus, he’s a Rays fan, forgot his cap today.”

I looked at Jesus and said “don’t you have twelve guys on the road squad?”

Jesus wiped his brow as the sun began to heat up the porch of the 7-11 and said “oh yeah, let me show you some pictures they aren’t here today. He pulled out his wallet and showed me a picture of a shifty looking man wearing a Dodgers’ cap and matching jersey, game worn. “This is Judas, he used to handle the money on road trips, got us into a bunch of trouble and wouldn’t you know it took money to double cross the boss. I really loved him but knew that he would try something, in fact last spring we were out here and had a light breakfast over at Krispy Kreme.”

“The one on Virginia Beach Boulevard?” I asked.

“Jesus replied “that’s the one partner, love them when they have the hot original glazed don’t you?”

I replied in the affirmative and Jesus continued. “You see I trusted Judas with a lot but the guy was greedy, tried to say that I was doin’ ‘roids to get my powers wanting to take their jobs and turned me in, it wasn’t . Before he took the 30 grand for his effort he dunked his donut in my coffee and took off when he knew that I knew. Of course they arrested me and didn’t even put the case to a real judge but a bunch of legislators, lawyers and preachers. Well, the poor guy felt badly when they convicted me and hanged his self from the Ebbetts field foul pole when they wouldn’t take the money back or let me go. It was sad my friend, just sad.”

“But you did get a draft pick for him didn’t you?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, Matthias was one of the picks, he actually made the starting team, the guys liked him and choose him while I was away and of course there’s the player that I picked up, took him right off the other team like the Yankees did Johnny Damon a few years back.”

“Is that Paul?” I asked as I looked at the picture of an elegant looking man in a Padres’ uniform.

“Sure the heck is buddy, and that guy was a find, not much of a sense of humor but a trooper on the road sometimes hard to work with but one of the best eyes for a pitch, especially after the scales came off that you could imagine, great judge of talent even though Barnabas, another All-Star mind you had a falling out with him. Heck he even wrote a lot of the rule book. He calls him as he sees them; he even called Peter on the carpet at a big shindig. Didn’t he Pete?” Peter mumbled something under his breath and looked away.

“You gotta love guys like Pete, heck I even gave him a set of keys, he’s not perfect but I trust him” Jesus said as he looked me in the eye.

“So with all of these all stars why do you want someone like me?”

“Steve, come on how long have you known me now? Most of your life isn’t it?”

I looked down and said, “yeah Lord, it’s been a long time.”

“Have I given up on you partner?”

“No.”

“When you were going through all those hard times and wondered where I was when you came back from Iraq did I give up on you?”

“No Lord.”

“Stop with the Lord stuff, I get that all the time back at the home office. By the way since you insist that God speaks to you through baseball you might as well know that he does. So you can consider this a little encouragement and you can call me ‘Skip’ if you want but lay off the Lord thing once in a while, everybody does it and the people who punctuate every little prayer with “Lord” eighteen times during the prayer really get pretty annoying after a while, not that I stop listening or caring but I know my name, besides I’m pretty secure in who I am.”

“Okay Skip.” I looked up at him and and smiled. As I did this he put his hand on my shoulder like a good manager talking to a no name journeyman said “don’t forget just who you are playing for, do well but know that you belong on my team. I have some plans for you.”

“Thanks Skip, that’s pretty encouraging coming from you.”

“No prob friend, no problem whasoever.”

I’ve been a Priest and chaplain for what seems like forever but I felt like a rookie pitcher on the mound getting the talk from the manager to make sure that I had my stuff together. Maybe I needed it. I looked at my watch.

“Oh Lord, I mean Skip I’ve got to get to work, I’m going to be late as it is and with all the times that I had trouble sleeping and not waking up I don’t need to be late, the boss would never believe this one.”

Jesus smiled at me, waved his hand and the sun went back a little way to the east and I looked at my watch and the time was nearly a hour earlier than it was just a few seconds before.

“How’s that?”

“Thanks Skip, that really helps.” I stuttered in true thanksgiving as I knew that no one would believe this story in a million years.

“Steve you take care, do good, I’ll keep checking on you. Keep your eye on the ball, keep your butt down on the grounders and stay in front of the ball. Take care of the rookies and make sure that the veterans in their declining years get the recognition that they deserve and don’t forget their families, they matter too. Keep spreading the good news too, so much bad news around the earth even I had to turn off all the Cable News channels, even the one that says that they are fair and balanced, so much negativity it makes your head swim.”

I began to walk to my car and Jesus said, your coffee is probably cold by now so go get a refill on me and don’t worry about the time I just opened the HOV to all traffic, the Downtown tunnel is clear and there’s a glitch in the State Troopers radar systems.

I offered my profuse thanks, especially for the help in the traffic and as I took off the lid to my refill mug I noticed that it was full of fresh hot coffee just the way I liked it. Jesus and the boys got into the extra large Suburban with Peter behind the wheel Thomas loaded a couple of equipment bags in the back of the truck and as they pulled out I shouted out “just where are you guys going now?” Jesus rolled down his window and said “Dyersville Iowa, I hear they have a special baseball field there and some great players too.”

“Skip, I think that you’ll like it there.”

“Thanks Steve and take care, keep up the faith down at the Church of Baseball Harbor Park Parish and don’t lose faith in the O’s” and with that Peter put the truck in gear and pointed at his Yankee hat as he backed the truck out of the parking space. they exited the parking lot onto the street leading to I-264 and as they rolled down the road the Suburban disappeared in a vapor trail and they were gone.

I got into my trusty 2001 Honda CR-V put the coffee in the cup holder and closed the door. I said a quick prayer of thanks and turned the key. “What a deal, it’s not every day that you meet Jesus in 7-11.”

Peace,

Padre Steve+

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Filed under Baseball, Batlimore Orioles, christian life, purely humorous, Religion

Tagged as 12 disciples, 39/30 caps, 59/50 caps, 7-11, baltimore Orioles, bash brothers, boston red sox, California Angels, chevy suburban, church, church of baseball, coffee, cooperstown classic, cubs fans, dodgers, dyersville iowa, ebbetts field, field of dreams, honda cr-v, i-264, jesus christ, jose canseco, Krispy Kreme Donuts, mark mcguire, new era caps, new york yankees, norfolk tides, st louis cardinals, st paul the apostle, st peter the apostle, the big a, ty cobb, virginia beach blvd

April 16, 2010 · 00:56

Tides Win in Durham 6-4

Alfredo Simon (shown at Harbor Park) got his first win for the Tides

The Norfolk Tides began their first road trip of the year in Durham tonight defeat the Bulls 6-4 as I listened to the game on ESPN Radio 94.1 while doing my taxes. I love listening to a well called game on the radio as I can imagine what is going on and find it more enjoyable than watching on television. When I was a young I was always mesmerized by the legendary Dodger’s announcer Vin Scully even though his is in the employ of Satan’s Major League franchise. What can I say I’m a Giants fan? Stone me with heavy stones. Anyway I digress.

Tonight I listened to Tides announcer Bob Socci call the game against the Bulls as on Jackie Robinson Day I waited as is my custom to e-file my Federal Taxes 2 hours before the midnight deadline. The Tides jumped off to an early first inning lead when Bulls starter Jeff Bennett surrendered walks to Joey Gathright and Jeff Salazar on 8 consecutive pitches and was removed from the game with an injury. Brian Baker came in to relieve Bennett and gave up a double to Lou Montanez which scored Gathright and advanced Salazar to third. Scott Moore singled to Center to drive in Salazar and advance Montanez to third. Bulls Catcher Alvin Colina allowed a passed ball which scored Montanez and the Tides led 3-0. Baker the retired Brandon Snyder and Josh Bell to pop out but Baker then allowed a double to left by former Bull Rhyne Hughes doubled to drive in scoring Scott Moore before Baker got Robert Andino to pop out to Second Baseman Joe Dillon. In the bottom half of the first Tides starting pitcher Alfredo Simon allowed two hits but stuck out two before getting ground out to Tides Third Baseman Brandon Snyder.

The Tides went down in order to Baker in the second and Alfredo Simon surrendered a single to Angel Chavez before getting Chavez on a force play at second. The Third inning was equally uneventful as in the top of the third Lou Montanez reached first on a base on balls. Scott Moore then flied out to left and Brandon Snyder hit into a 5-4-3 double play to end the Tides at bat. Durham picked up a run in the third when Elliott Johnson got a bunt single and advanced to second when Rashad Eldridge grounded out to the pitcher Simon. Justin Ruggiano flied out but John reached third on a wild pitch from Simon. Hank Blalock then picked up an infield single to second scoring Johnson before Joe Dillon popped out to Brandon Snyder at first to end the inning.

Rhyne Hughes doubled with one out in the fourth but the Tides failed to bring him home as Robert Andino flied to left and Adam Donachie struck out swinging. Durham picked up a second run when Dan Johnson homered to right. Simon would get the next three Bulls in order to end the inning.

The Tides threatened in the top of the fifth. Joey Gathright walked; Jeff Salazar struck out swinging which brought about a pitching change for the Bulls. Richard De Los Santos relieved Baker and got Lou Montanez to0 ground out to short but Gathright advanced to second. He would reach third when De Los Santos threw a wild pitch; however Gathright would advance no further as Scott Moore struck out swinging. The Bulls did nothing in the bottom of the fifth; Simon gave up a walk to Justin Ruggiano but nothing else. The Tides added to their lead in the top of the sixth. Brandon Snyder got a leadoff single but it looked like De Los Santos was going to get out of the inning when he got Josh Bell to line out to center and Rhyne Hughes to ground out advancing Snyder to second. Robert Andino then tripled to drive in Hughes and was driven home on an Adam Donachie single to left. Joey Gathright singled to third but Donachie allowed himself to get caught between second and third and was tagged out by Shortstop Angel Chavez. Simon put the Bulls down in order in the bottom of the sixth.

The Tides went quietly in the seventh although Scott Moore reached first on a walk allowed by De Los Santos. Chris George then came into the game for the Tides. The Bulls left two on base in the bottom of the seventh on a Tides error and a base on balls. Both the Tides and the Bulls went down in order in the eighth inning.

The Tides threatened in the top of the ninth. Adam Donachie walked to start the inning and moved to second when Joey Gathright grounded out to catcher Adam Colina. Jeff Salazar collected a single to right which sent Donachie to third. Durham then brought Heath Rollins into the game and after Salazar stole second Rollins got Lou Montanez to ground out with Joe Dillon holding Donachie at third. Scott Moore went down swinging to end the inning ending the Tides threat. The call was a check swing which third base umpire Manny Gonzalez said that Moore had gone around on. Scott said something to Gonzales most likely questioning Gonzalez’s parentage or something that he does in the privacy of his bedroom and was ejected from the game.

The Bulls made interesting in the bottom of the ninth. The Tides brought in Frank Mata to close the game and Jonathan Tucker came in for the ejected Moore at second. Chris Richard led off the inning getting on when Tucker committed a fielding error. Mata then got Angel Chavez to fly out to left and Alvin Colina to ground out to third with Richard advancing to second. Elliott Johnson singled to right sending Chavez to third and then stole second. Rashad Eldridge walked to load the bases and Justin Ruggiano singled to drive in Chavez. With the bases still loaded and the Bulls down by three Tides closer Alberto Castillo relieved Mata. Hank Blalock singled to left scoring Johnson however with the home crowd cheering Joe Dillon flied out deep to left when Lou Montanez caught the ball at the foot of Durham’s 32 foot “Blue Monster.”

The Tides had 6 runs on 9 hits with 2 errors and the Bulls 4 runs on 9 hits and no errors. Alfredo Simon got his first win of the 2010 season and Jeff Bennett lost his second. Alberto Castillo got his second save of the season. Rhyne Hughes led the attack for the Tides with 2 doubles and an RBI his 7^th of the season. The teams will meet tomorrow with Troy Patton scheduled to pitch for the Tides. As of now the Bulls pitcher is not announced. With the win the Tides improve to 4-4 evening their record. Tomorrow I am on duty at the medical center so I probably will not get much of a chance to listen to the Tides but do expect to file some report on the game.

Peace

Padre Steve+

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Filed under Baseball, norfolk tides

Tagged as adam donachie, alberto castillo, alfredo simon, alvin colina, angel chavez, bob socci, brandon snyder, brian baker, dan johnson, dodgers, durham bulls, elliott johnson, espn radio 94.1, frank mata, giants, hank blalock, heath rollins, jackie robinson, jeff bennett, jeff salazar, joe dillon, joey gathright, josh bell, justin ruggiano, lou montanez, manny gonzalez, norfolk tides, rashad eldridge, rhyne hughes, richard de los santos, robert andino, scott moore, taxes, troy patton, vin scully

October 15, 2009 · 23:26

My Life and Baseball: How Padre Steve Makes Some Sense of the World

The Church of Baseball, Harbor Park Parish

“This is my most special place in all the world, Ray. Once a place touches you like this, the wind never blows so cold again. You feel for it, like it was your child.” Dr. Archibald “Moonlight” Graham in Field of Dreams

“I love baseball. You know it doesn’t have to mean anything, it’s just beautiful to watch.” – Woody Allen in Selig (1983)

I went to Harbor Park last week just to talk with staff and sit in the concourse. Tomorrow after work, though the weather is not predicted to be very good I plan on doing the same. There is something about baseball people and my seats down in section 102, row B, seat 2 and 3 that help me even when there is not game going on. I walked around the diamond, the weather was gorgeous and it was so peaceful, even as the head groundskeeper aerated the field in preparation for the winter. I feel close to God when I am around a ballpark, even without the game being played there is something almost mystical about it. To me there is nowhere more peaceful than a ballpark. Tonight as I sit watching game one of the National League Championship Series between the Dodgers and the Phillies my mind goes back to how much baseball has been part of my life, and how in a very real way that God speaks to me through this special game.

Granger Stadium Kinston NC

“Baseball, it is said, is only a game. True. And the Grand Canyon is only a hole in Arizona. Not all holes, or games, are created equal.” George Will

Baseball is part of my life and I think this goes back to my childhood when my dad introduced me to it in our back yard in Oak Harbor Washington. Even before I played an organized game dad played catch with me, showed me how to grip a ball and told me about the great ballplayers. He made me learn the fundamentals of the game and weather we were attending a game in person, watching one on television or playing catch, pepper or practicing infield or pitching dad was all about the game. Of course he was the same way with football, hockey and basketball, but the sport that he seemed most passionate about was baseball. As a kid he was a Cincinnati Reds fan. His mother, my grandmother who hailed from the hollers of Putnam County West Virginia was a diehard Dodgers fan, though I am sure that God forgives her for that. She was an independent woman of conviction and determination that has to in some way influenced her love for the game, even as a little boy if there was a game on television she would have it on. I still wonder about to this day how she became a Dodger’s fan but it probably had something to do with her independent streak. Granny as she chose to be called was a woman who as a widow in the late 1930s went to work, raised her two boys and bought her own house. Unlike most of the people in West Virginia she was also a Republican, a rare breed especially in that era. As independent in her choice of baseball teams as she was in her politics Granny was a Dodgers fan in a land of Reds, Indians and Pirates fans, so even with Granny we were immersed in baseball.

California Angels Manager Lefty Phillips and Young Padre Steve 1970

Dad always made sure that we got to see baseball wherever we lived. In 1967 he took us to see the Seattle Pilots which the next year went to Milwaukee and became the Brewers. The pilots were an expansion team in a town with a long history of minor league ball. They played at an old park named Sick Stadium, which if you ask me is a really bad marketing plan. The game that we went to was the “Bat Day” giveaway. Then they game regulation size Louisville Slugger bats. Mine had the name of the Pilots First Baseman Mike Hegan on the barrel. That was my first trip to a Major League stadium and I still can remember it as if it was yesterday. Somewhere in my junk I have a button with the Pilots logo on it. I’ll have to find it again sometime. The next year I played my first organized baseball with the Oak Harbor Little League “Cheyenne’s.” My coach was a kind of gruff old guy who stuck me out in right field. I don’t know why but our team uniforms did not match, half of us had white and the other half gray. Unfortunately due to military moves I didn’t get to play organized ball again until 1972.

MY Favorite Angel Jim Spencer as a Yankee

In the elementary schools of those days our teachers who put the playoff and World’s Series games as many were played during daylight hours. I remember watching Bob Gibson pitch when the Cardinals played against the Red Sox in the 1967 series. It was awesome to see that man pitch. I remember the Amazin’ Mets upsetting the Orioles in 1969 and seeing the Orioles take down the Reds in 1970. I never will forget the 1970 All Star Game where Pete Rose ran over Ray Fosse at home plate for the winning run. I watched in awe as the great dynasty teams of the 1970s, the Reds and the Athletics who dominated much of that decade and the resurgence of the Yankees in the summer that the Bronx burned. Back then every Saturday there was the NBC Game of the Week hosted by Curt Gowdy, Tony Kubek and Joe Garragiola.

Ed Halicki No Hitter

When we were stationed in Long Beach California from 1970-1971 my dad had us at Anaheim stadium all the time. I imagine that we attended at least 30 games there and a couple at Dodger stadium that first year and a good number more before we moved to Stockton California in the middle of the 1971 season. That was disappointing, it took forever to get adjusted to Stockton and I think that part of it was not seeing the Angels every week at the Big “A.” At those games I met a lot of the players and coaches and even some opposing players. The Von’s grocery store chain and the Angels radio network had a “My Favorite Angel” contest. My entry about Angels First Baseman Jim Spencer was a runner up, netting me two seats behind the plate and having Dick Enberg announce my name on the radio. Spencer was a Gold Glove First Baseman who later played for the Yankees on their 1978 World Series team. My first hat from a Major League team was the old blue hat with a red bill, the letters CA on the front and a halo stitched on top. I still have a hat from the 1971 team with the lower case “a” with a halo hanging off of it. It has numerous autographs on the inside of the bill including Sandy Alomar, Jim Spencer, and Jim Fregosi, Chico Ruiz and Billy Cowan and sits in a display case on my kitchen wall.

My Dad and Me May 2009

While we didn’t live as close to a major league team baseball did not go away, though we were not at the ballpark as much it got more interesting as I got to see playoff games and a no-hitter. We saw the A’s dynasty teams including games one and two of the 1972 American League Championship Series between the A’s and the Tigers. Across the Bay a few years later I got to see Ed Halicki of the Giants no-hit the Mets a Candlestick on August 24th 1975. In those days I got to see some of the greats of the era play, Catfish Hunter, Reggie Jackson, Willie Mays, Willie McCovey, Steve Garvey, Vida Blue, Harmon Killebrew, Rollie Fingers, and so many others at the Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum and Candlestick Park.

While in Stockton I became acquainted with Minor League Baseball through the Stockton Ports, who then were the Class “A” California League farm team for the Orioles. I remember a few years back talking to Paul Blair the Orioles great Paul Blair who played for the Ports in the early 1960s about Billy Hebert Field and how the sun would go down in the outfield blinding hitters and spectators in its glare. I would ride my bike over in the evening to try to get foul balls that came over the grand stand when I didn’t have the money to get a ticket.

My Championship Season

When I was a kid I had a large baseball card collection which I kept in a square cardboard box. I must have had hundreds of cards including cards that if I had them now would be worth a small fortune, unfortunately when I went away to college I left them in the garage and during a purge of junk they were tossed out. This year I started collecting cards again, mostly signed cards that I obtained at the Church of Baseball at Harbor Park. In a sense they kind of serve a purpose like Holy Cards due in the Catholic Church for me. They are a touch point with the game and the players who signed them.

As I have grown older my appreciation for the game, despite strikes and steroids still grows. I am in awe of the diamond. I have played catch on the field of dreams, seen a game in the Yankee Stadium Right Field bleachers seen games in other venues and thrown out the first pitch in a couple of minor league games. I am enchanted with the game. The foul lines theoretical go on to infinity, only broken by the placement of the outfield wall. Likewise unlike all other sports there is no time limit, meaning that baseball can be an eschatological game going on into eternity. The Hall of Fame is like the Calendar of Saints in the Catholic, Orthodox and Anglican Churches. There are rituals, the exchange of batting orders and explanation of the ground rules, the ceremonial first pitch, players not stepping on the foul line when entering and leaving the field of play, no talking about it when a pitcher is throwing a no-hitter and the home run trot. The care of a field by an expert ground crew is a thing to behold, especially when they still use the wooden box frames to lay down the chalk on the baselines and the batter’s box.

We have travelled to many minor league parks often in tiny out of the way locations and even to the Field of Dreams in Dyersville Iowa where once again Judy indulged me and let me play catch. Likewise my long suffering wife has allowed our kitchen and much of my dining room are as close to a baseball shrine as Judy will let me make them; thankfully she is most tolerant and indulges this passion of mine.

Elliott the Usher

Since I returned from Iraq the baseball diamond is one of my few places of solace. For the first time I bought a season ticket to my local minor league team the Norfolk Tides. Section 102, row B seat 2 and 3 and was able to watch the game from the same place game after game. It became a place of refuge during some of my bad PTSD times, and I got to know and love the people around me; Elliot the Usher, Chip the Usher, Ray and Bill the Vietnam Veteran Beer guys behind home plate, Kenny “Crabmeat” the Pretzel Guy and Barry the Scorekeeper.

Moon Over Harbor Park

My dad is slowly dying of Alzheimer’s Disease and a shell of his former self but the last time I visited him we had a few minutes where he was with it we talked baseball and I gave him a new Giants t-shirt and hat. I plan on going back next month sometime to spend some time with him. Maybe we’ll get a few minutes of lucidity and a bit of time together again, I wish he was able to get up and play catch, but that will have to wait for eternity on the lushest baseball field imaginable.

The season there is over, but God is not done speaking to me through baseball as I close my eyes and recollect the words of Terrance Mann (James Earl Jones) in Field of Dreams: “The one constant through all the years has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It’s been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past. It reminds us of all that once was good, and what could be again.”

Jeff Fiorentino hits a 3 run shot at Harbor Park

In a sense this says it all to me in an age of war, economic crisis and bitter partisan political division. In a sense it is a prayer, a prayer for a return to something that can be good again.

Peace and blessings,

Padre Steve+

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October 14, 2009 · 22:17

Padre Steve’s MLB Championship Series Picks

Well sports fans I’m back on some predictions. The fact that I am neither the Prophet nor the Son of the Prophet makes no difference here, and since my picks with the exception of the Evil Dodgers sweep of the Cardinals were pretty accurate here it goes again. Now obviously since I am merely Padre Steve and not the Pope nothing I say is infallible my picks can be wrong and I hate that. Thankfully since I am not claiming to speak from the Most High a wrong pick will not leave me crushed to death with heavy stones by the faithful. At the same time I get a certain satisfaction about being right like the time I was waiting in the ER with Judy as they tried to diagnose her throat swelling. I “Googled” the symptoms and got it right, before they did, it was Epiglottis, something extremely rare in adults which they were neither looking for nor expecting. I thought that was pretty cool as did my ICU attending physicians.

So how do I get my picks? First I try to put emotion aside and look at trends, stats and intangibles. It does not matter if I like the team or not when it comes to picking such things. What I want is to be dispassionate in my analysis because I love the game.

So a quick review of the Divisional Series:

I picked the Cardinals in 4 over the Dodgers. Dodgers swept the Cards 3-0. The tow things that I believed that would bring about a Cardinals win did not happen. First the starting pitching did not get it done. Second the Cardinals hitting died like 1981 Chevette, trust me I know as we had one. It was not pretty and then if you throw in the improbable muff a ball that Matt Halliday made in Left Field with two outs in the bottom of the 9^th in game two with the Cardinals ahead….. Ouch!

I picked the Phillies in 5 figuring that the Rockies would win at home. Instead they split in Philly and the Phillies swept the Rockies in Denver despite cold weather and what should have been home field advantage. The Phillies choice of Cliff Lee to pitch game one paid off in spades and the Phillies hitters did not disappoint. Rockies fans must have had their hearts ripped out when they scored three in the bottom of the 8^th to take a 4-2 lead in game four only to have closer Huston Street blow the save for the second night in a row.

Moving to the American League I picked the Angels in 5 over the Red Sox. I figured that the Angels were a better team than the last few times they played the Sox and that the Red Sox had lost their edge. I thought that the “X” factor of Nick Adenhart would work in the Angels favor and I expected a close series with the Angels winning it. Instead the Angels dominated the Bosox and swept them with an improbable rally with 2 outs in the bottom of the 9^th when they were down to their last pitch.

Finally there was the series between the Yankees and the Twins. The Twins had a remarkable September and captured the AL Central crown in a one game playoff against the Tigers. I picket the Yankees in 4 allowing for a game three Twins win at the Hubert H Humphrey Metrosexual Dome, also known as visiting team Hell. The Yankees swept the Twins but game two and three were close and the Yankees came from behind in both to win.

So here they are: First the National League and the Phillies against the Dodgers. Pitching is a wash as the Phillies have the better starters with Lee and Clay Hammels but have a suspect bullpen. Closer Brad Lidge seems to have gotten his stuff back after a miserable season. The Dodgers have a patchwork rotation of decent but not outstanding pitchers but have an amazing bullpen. In the hitting department both teams have great offensive potential but I give the edge to Ryan Howard’s wrecking crew. In the regular season the Dodgers took the series between the two teams 4-3. This will be close and the Dodgers are capable of winning in unusual ways as evidenced by game two of the NLDS. I think this goes 7 with the teams splitting in LA, Philly taking 2 at home and splitting the final pair with the Phillies taking the down the Dodgers for the second year in a row. While I am picking the Phillies this series could go the other way. I never will forget the 1981 Dodgers who played had a miraculous series of playoff wins which culminated against the Yankees. They lost the first two games and won the next four closing the series at Yankee Stadium. So I believe that anything is possible, but I’m still picking the Phillies and watch the game in my San Francisco Giants gear. I guess I do have some emotions invested in this series after all.

Now I’ll move over to the American League and talk about the Yankees and the Angels. This should be a great series. The Halo’s won 4 of 6 in the regular season and outscored them by a pretty large margin in Anaheim. Now both teams have a lot of firepower as well as pretty solid pitching. The Yankees are coming off the best season the have had in a number of years and their 103 wins were the most in baseball. The Angels have had a very good season as well. At this point it is hard to pick a winner. I think that the Yankees have the edge in personnel and are the hungriest for the pennant that I have seen them in years. The Angels too are hungry and have something of an “X” factor in the incredible bonding and team spirit brought about by the loss of rookie pitcher Nick Adenhart. The series will start in New York where the weather forecast is crappy for the weekend, especially Friday where there is an 80% chance of rain and temperatures in the low 40s. The temps will remain about the same the entire weekend and the precipitation is forecast at 40% for the weekend. These are not baseball conditions and could be a factor in who wins and loses the games in New York. With the weather as much as a factor as it could be I think that negates some of the Yankees home field advantage. I think that the teams split in New York and go to Anaheim at 1-1. When the teams get to Anaheim next week the weather should be perfect Southern California fall weather clear and temperatures in the 70s at game time. They Angels dominated the Yankees at home and I think that they will take at least two of the three in Anaheim and go back to New York up 3-2. The Yankees are a great clutch team and this year and have been awesome in the come from behind situations. The series could go either way at this point but I think that the Angels can steal this from the Yankees and put them away in game six, just as they came from behind to defeat the Red Sox in game three of their series. My pick is the Angels in six.

So my picks are the Angels and Phillies to get to the World Series. Of course I could be wrong as these are all great teams and each has something to prove. The Phillies want to repeat, the Yankees want to make up for years of disappointment of being so close but so far away, the Dodgers are trying to reclaim a winning heritage and gain the respect that they deserve and the Angels, they are playing for something so totally intangible that it is hard to put a value on, they are playing for the love and memory of a team-mate and have an almost magical and mystical feel to their season. There are individual players trying to recapture past triumphs and others still trying to escape the demons and come out from under the cloud of not having won it all. I expect some great baseball no matter who advances to the Series. The way I see it even if I am wrong on my picks this should be some great baseball.

Peace,

Padre Steve+

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July 25, 2009 · 23:46

Offensively Offending the Chronically Offended

We live in a country that has transformed itself into one of the thinnest skinned, easily offended and offendable bunch of folks in the world. It doesn’t seem to matter what political affiliation, religion, race, gender, socio-economic group or Dodger’s fan a person is now days they are bound to be offended at something. However, we now seem to live where almost everyone is offended at something and it matters not a whit what it may be, hell I even offend myself sometimes. There are some people who almost seem to live with a chip on their shoulder. They are the chronically offended who are quite often easily offensively offended. While most of the time trying not to give offense I have been known to offend the chronically offended, the merely offendable, and even the totally unaware with twisted or sarcastic comments and oddball humor which Judy tells me is not always as funny as I think it is. Nonetheless there are patently many people who are both chronically offended and very angry. I am assured by the Deity Herself that such is not a good and virtuous combination. Especially on those occasions when I am one of the guilty parties questioning the parentage and Oedipal tendencies of the idiots who move across four lanes of traffic without signaling on I-264. At times I wish this was Iraq in 2007 so my turret gunner or RP2 Lebron could shoot them. Thankfully my newly honed skills using the force that I developed in Iraq, which I am told is actually hyper vigilance, does allow me to sense and avoid these Kamikazes before I even see them.

I remember once when I was a civilian hospital chaplain and stopped by a grocery store to pick up some food to take to work. An older gentleman was going toward the sliding automated door and out of simple politeness I said “Sir, please, after you.” Hell, the way I walk, which is as those who see me rapidly racing down the long halls of our medical center without breaking into a jog can testify is pretty fast, it was a safety thing too. I could have run the gentleman down had I not stopped to let him through first. That would not have been cool. I could have seen the newspaper headline in that town:

LOCAL HOSPITAL AND ARMY RESERVE CHAPLAIN SLAMS ELDERLY MAN TO GROUND TRYING TO BEAT HIM THROUGH KROGER DOOR

That would not have been good. The man, instead of smiling and thanking me stops in front of the door, turns around and says: “Why are you calling me sir? Why are you disrespecting me?” He said it very loud, very sharply and I was wondering what the hell was going on. So I kind of defused the situation by using humor. I said, “Sir, I call everybody sir, even ma’ams.” The man cocked his head, gave me the most confused look that I could imagine shook his head and went through the door. I didn’t know that being polite and respectful could be taken as offensive and disrespectful. Maybe when some young guy does that to me someday I will understand. Of course only after whack him with my tazer from my motorized scooter because I think he is being disrespectful and watch him writhing in pain and twitching all over the place.

I knew a young Chaplain who was spouting off in a public forum once in a manner that did not offend me, but which I thought if certain other people read it could affect him and his career in a negative manner. This is no one that I have worked with past or present, only someone that I happen to know in passing. I was concerned for the young man, so I contacted him just to let him know to be careful. I was surprised at the venom with which he reacted to my comment which was only meant to help keep him out of potential trouble. No good deed goes unpunished. Maybe he will go to a self-help course, but then again, selves are very difficult to help.

Now I think everyone at some time has been offended by something or someone. Crap we are human; we can’t help but be, though I do find the Romulan that resides in me very appealing. However, to live my life is a perpetual state of offendedness is something that I refuse to do, even though I both give and take offense probably every day, especially during the morning or afternoon commute. Hell, judging by the number of people I have lost as friends on Facebook after I have written articles on this site I know I give offense, even when I don’t mean to. Mea Culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa, pray for me a sinner.

Our offendedness is not helped by the litigious nature of our society where lawsuits are as common as business suits. Someone gets offended and someone sues them. Then someone else gets offended and sues and pretty soon Anne Coulter and Keith Olberman are mud wrestling on Larry King Live, while the ladies on The View come to fisticuffs. Pretty soon offensensitivity reigns and it is like half the country are Frank and Estelle Costanza. What is bad about this is that people are now so spun up by the loudest and most shrill accusatory voices in the media and society that it is hard to turn off. Politics especially has become venom filled and hatred driven. A lot of our electorate is now so polarized and offended by anything anyone else says that there is almost a civil war going on. Albeit this is a without weapons marching armies and crashing cannon, but instead one waged with great energy on the airwaves and the internet. There is occasional talk of secession or armed revolt by one side or the other depending on who’s in power. Politicians and political parties are no longer opponents, they are mortal enemies. Often times interest groups within the various parties opt for a no-quarter approach to how they do business to advance their cause and push their parties further to the extreme. Caricatures and sound bites suffice for truth for many people regardless of them being on the left or right wing of the body politic. It is true at least as far as practice that the extremists in both major parties have more in common with each other than they do the middle where traditionally most Americans live.

Thus with a highly divided, hypersensitive and easily offended populace we are heading for big trouble unless people stop taking themselves so seriously and get about with finding a way to cooperate and make things work. I know that is important to remain principled, but there is also a duty to be civil and respectful even when critical of a person’s position or presentation.

I was reminded of this fact recently when I criticized a pastor’s non-theological remarks on this site. My criticism was unduly harsh and cynical in tone. When this was pointed out I modified the article to make the same point without purposely sky lining the individual in what could be seen in a disrespectful, uncharitable and even un-Christian fashion. I may be a passionate moderate but it is important for me to keep a sense of decorum in what otherwise could be an unseemly brawl. The criticism of how I handled the initial post was valid and sometimes I have to tell myself that restraint, respect and civility is a virtue, even if I think I am right. So please don’t take offense if you deem me offensive or if I have offended the chronically offendable. After all, restraint, respect and civility are one the one thing that separates us from the Cable News Media, prickly pundits and Talk Show Hosts.

Peace, Steve+

Post Script: A friend sent me an e-mail which made a point that I want to ensure that my readers understand. He reminded me that people “would really discern the difference between having a “bad day” response to a situation and those who, perpetuate the historical hatred both past and present of our nation….And then attempt to minimize actions/responses through humor or referring to others as “hypersensitive….this article missed the mark and seemingly inferred …a mocking of responses toward inequality and hatred.”

Of course I assured him that in no way was I at all minimize such actions or refer to those who have been the target of hatred, injustice and discrimination as “hyper-sensitive” or mock actual repsonses to inequity and hatred, regardless of who it is directed toward. That is something that I could never do. The post is a more humorous look at how divided our country has become and how in our dividedness everything is now offensive to someone. Peace, Steve+

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July 13, 2009 · 21:10

A Trip to the Home World, Tithing on the Speed Limit, a Tooth Joins the Ranks of the Undead and a Giant No Hitter

Yesterday we made a trip back to my family’s home world, also known as Huntington West Virginia. As far as home worlds go it is probably on no one’s top ten lists, probably ranking about as high as Qo’noS, the Klingon home world in terms of places that you would go to on holiday. However it is my family’s ancestral home for the past 200 plus years since coming from Scotland, Ireland and France. Now I was not born in West Virginia, though my parents were born there as were three of my four grandparents. I was actually the first of my generation born outside of the state as my dad was still in the beginning stages of his Navy career and was stationed at Naval Air Station Alameda California and I was born at Oak Knoll Naval Hospital in California. Even so Huntington was a place that served as a touchstone for our lives as my dad was transferred from one place to another on the west coast. We would return almost every summer, usually travelling by train in the days before Amtrack. Back then three of four grandparents as well as one set of great grandparents we still alive along with a butt-load of aunts, uncles and cousins. In 4^th grade we lived there while my dad found us suitable housing in Long Beach California after being transferred from Washington State. That was the year of three schools and four teachers for me, but I digress.

It was during that year that my great grandfather died and my grandfather was diagnosed with a golf ball sized yet benign brain tumor. It was also the adjustment form the kinder and gentler west coast schools to a much stricter standard in Huntington. I was also as we had come in from Long Beach I was nicknamed “City Slicker” and had to fight for my life. A couple of school yard brawls later which I cannot say that I won but in which I gave good account of myself I was accepted so far as a “City Slicker” could be. The thing was though that I had lived in a town of only about 8,000 inhabitants for 4 years prior to moving to Long beach for just over a month. The kids in Huntington were far more “City Slicker” than little old me. I had poor penmanship because in Kindergarten my teacher took the pencil out of my left hand and stuck it in my right hand. This was of no comfort when my teacher whacked my hand with a steel ruler since my penmanship was so bad. What good this did I have no idea except to maybe set me back two more years. I don’t think I ever left the dining room table due to the amount of homework that she assigned. During my time in Huntington we lived across from the old Fairfield Stadium where the Marshall University football team played. I saw the team work out in the spring practices of 1970, the same team killed in the plane crash on 14 November of that year. We returned to Long Beach that summer where when I started 5^th grade I was known as “Kentucky Fried.” Despite that I was happy to get back out west. After my Clinical Pastoral Care Education Residency in Dallas I got my first full time hospital chaplain job at Cabell-Huntington Hospital which I held as a full time contractor until I was mobilized for the Bosnia mission in 1996. During this time and while I was deployed Judy got to know my relatives better than me. I went into the Navy in West Virginia and due to this we remain West Virginia residents for Tax and Voting purposes. We came back to get our driver’s licenses renewed and see our dear friend Patty.

The visit this time has been pretty miserable for me as last night the tooth which was recently excavated for the second time as discovered to be cracked beyond repair decided to come back from the dead. I didn’t get to sleep until about 0230 and woke up again at 0415 before getting back to sleep at 0600. The alarm rank at 0700 and after getting Judy up, we talked and I went back to bed where I slept until 1230. It took 2 Ultram, 1 800 mg Motrin and a couple of beers with lunch to get the pain under control. Tonight I will probably do the same and go to bed early. In the morning I will have to call the Dental Department at the hospital to see what they want me to do. We don’t travel back until Wednesday and I don’t know if I can take much more of this. It seems to me that my tooth has taken a page from Dracula and joined the ranks of the undead. This really sucks like a Hoover.

The trip here was long, we had the usual snarl on I-64 from Newport News until past Williamsburg, and thankfully the HRBT was not congested. We picked up more slow traffic between Staunton and Lexington. Now I am bothered by people who drive slower than the posted speed limit in the fast lane. I trained on the Los Angeles Freeways and the German Autobahn. My view is that the speed limit is a suggestion for the less skilled drivers and those who have trained on high speed roads should be exempt from it. Now I am not a total scofflaw. I do not drive unsafely, weave in and out of traffic or fail to signal. Likewise I know about how fast I can go without drawing the attention of the State Police. Since radar detectors are illegal in Virginia one has to become very adept at this cat and mouse game and I am amazed at the number of people who get pulled over because they don’t understand the simple art of nuance. In most states you can safely drive about 10 percent over the speed limit on the Interstate without getting ticketed. This is a little different on the major travel holidays in Virginia where there is about a 5 mph tolerance. I do this routinely and refer to it as “tithing” on the speed limit. Of course there are times that I need to give more than my tithe and go a bit faster. Our GPS “Lilith” has a conscious about such things and would alarm when I did this forcing me to silence her.

There was also cause for rejoicing as the first half of the baseball season came to an end. The Norfolk Tides are tied for fist in the International League South, the San Francisco Giants have surprised everyone by playing great ball with solid pitching and now are in second place in the National League West and currently have the 3^rd best record in the league behind the Evil Dodgers and one percentage point behind the East leading Phillies. To really make things great Giants pitcher Jonathan Sanchez pitched a no-hitter against the San Diego Padres. It was almost a perfect game save for a booted ground ball and error by Giants Third Baseman Juan Uribe with 1 out in the bottom of the 8^thand Center Fielder Aaron Rowland saved the no-hitter with a leaping catch at the wall for the second out in the top of the ninth. Both of these show that even when a pitcher pitches a no-hitter it is a team effort. I had seen the next to last Giant no-hitter in person with my dad and brother back on August 24th 1975 when Ed Halicki shut down the New York Mets at Candlestick. Not a bad way for the Giants to go into the All-Star break.

Anyway it is time to self medicate for the night and try to get some sleep. Pray for me a sinner.

Peace, Steve

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July 9, 2009 · 22:08

Visiting the Super Holy International Temple: The Ten Pretty Good Suggestions

I was visiting the Super Holy International Temple a few weeks back when I had a revelation…well maybe not exactly a revelation but a somewhat differently inspired inspirational moment of unquestionable inspiration. Or maybe it was just my mind was a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives through my insomniac PTSD’d brain after one too many beers at Gordon Biersch. Whatever it was, I can assure you that it was something that was important enough to write about. As the beneficiary of a relatively limited amount of wisdom and wanting to ensure that I am not becoming a Harry Tick I decided to check this out with the Deity Herself.

So I did so and indeed the Deity has allowed me to pass this wisdom on to my readers. Most of it deals with me but the application might be applicable to anyone who feels that is applicable to them, otherwise if not applicable readers should not make any application whatsoever to the way that they live their lives.

With that in mind this was what I received in that moment of differently inspired inspirational moment of unquestionable inspiration, what I will call the Ten Pretty Good Suggestions:

1. Dude, you don’t know nothing about a lot of things so don’t go making it up as you go along hoping that I will agree with it just because you found a Bible verse to back it up.

2. Likewise since you don’t know nothing don’t you go piddling about telling people that something was my will. While it may have been, it just may as well not have been. That is for me to know and you keep your mouth shut about, especially if it was one of those really sucky times where something bad happened to someone who obviously did nothing to deserve it…like little kids dying of cancer, women losing babies when they really want them, young people getting killed in war, people who are good people who love God and demonstrate love to others getting terrible diseases or watch family members and friends suffer while really sucky bad people seem to prosper and stuff like that.

3. Bad things happen to good people and bad people alike, just as good things happen to good people and bad people alike. The rain falls on the just and the unjust and this is why the Dodgers have won a number of World Series since coming west and the Giants haven’t.

4. Shit happens to both good and bad people not because the Deity wills it or the Devil is causing it but simply because pain, death and suffering are common to all due to the fall. Hey, that one rhymed so quit calling bad things “acts of God” or God’s will” since you don’t know nothing anyway.

5. The Deity does not take religious instruction from you Padre otherwise the creation would be far more fouled up than it has become, it doesn’t need your help. So please remember to thank me for Global Warming otherwise you’d be freezing you ass off down there.

6. Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean that the Devil is out trying to get you. Just because he is a “roaring Lion seeking out someone to devour doesn’t mean that you are worth a whole lot of his time. Since he has made enemies with the Deity and had his head whacked at the Cross, he is probably not screwing with you at this moment. If you believe this Padre you are way too full of yourself and need to do some serious confession. Make no doubt there Padre, the Devil is out there and the proof is in artificial turf on baseball fields and aluminum or composite bats, those are unnatural and definitely the work of the devil.

7. Padre, just because you believe something really hard does not mean that I believe it or will just try to make you happy by allowing it to happen. Just ask Cubs fans last year when they thought they were going to the World Series…it didn’t happen.

8. You may not like it but you game is going to get rained out once in a while so move under the awning sit back and watch the grounds crew do their thing.

9.Don’t you go thinking that just because you did something that you think is special there Padre that I have to do something in return for you, like I love you and all that but dude I don’t owe you squat. My love, giving up my Son to die on the cross for you and the salvation of the world, including your sorry ass isn’t enough?

10. Since you don’t know nothing instead of telling people going through hard times that it is “God’s will” or “from the Devil,” simply admit that you don’t know and walk with them through the valley loving them and caring for them on the way, knowing that “even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for you are with me” and “I will be with you to the end of the age.” Like duh? I think that those are even in the Bible there Padre. Just like “in this world things will often be really sucky and stuff will go against you but be happy dude because I have overcome the world.”

So anyway after receiving that I had to stop and think, you know like dude, those are pretty profound. So since they are applicable to me don’t assume that they are applicable to you unless however they are applicable in which case you should make application and apply them. Somehow I think that there are a lot of folks who like me are tired of having people try to tell them how to live their lives or how God somehow figures into something bad happening to them when in fact it may not be God, or for that matter even the Devil either. Maybe shit just happens. I know that I got tired of people feeding me full of how they knew what God was doing in my life when bad stuff happened. all the way back in seminary when things went to Super Holy International Temple on me. Why should I inflict the Super Holy International Temple on others?

Peace, Steve+

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Tagged as 23rd psalm, acts of god, artificial turf, attacks of satan, baseball fields, chicago cubs, christian faith, composite bats, dodgers, global warming, god, God's will, gordon biersch, insomina, metal bats, PTSD, san fransisco giants, satan, the devil, the fall of man, why bad things happen to good people

July 6, 2009 · 21:47

Discerning the Second Coming: The Cubs are the Key

This is a modified re-post of something that I did when I first started posting to this site. At the time I had very few readers and this post was buried so far back that it was pretty much forgotten, except by me. Since the Deity Herself speaks to me through baseball it follows that my eschatology, or theology of the end times has a baseball connection.Since the Cubs are currently in third pace in the NL Central with a record of 41 wins and 39 losses a week before the All Star break having just beat the Braves 4-2 I feel that is appropriate to re-address the topic.

The Creed says of Jesus that “He will come again to judge the living and the dead.” The Creed however does not say how or when. Since many guys with a lot less theological training than me are making mega-bucks writing books about the Second Coming of Christ simply by watching CNN, Fox News and a host of websites and newspapers. I watch these guys vainly trying to match headlines to Bible verses to show why they are right, or at least how to make changes in order to publish another book, I figured why not do this from Baseball.

While Hal Lindsey, Grant Jeffery, John Hagee, Jack Van Impe and groups like the Prophecy Club make definitive statements based on “years of study” of the Scriptures, history and current events only to have to revise those predictions when people and nations refuse to do not as they predict; I prefer not to live my life waiting for Fox News to tell me that Jesus is on the horizon. I remember back in the 1970s when I read Hal Lindsey’s The Late Great Planet Earth and had the shit scared out of me. What was way cool over the years was to see the revisions to the book as the world situation changed. Likewise the new books published by others during the Gulf War and every stinking conflict in the Middle East which basically repackaged the same tripe with slight modifications due to world situation, political change or technological advances. Even worse are the Left Buttocks series by Tim LaHaye whose books and movies sold more copies than People Magazine’s coverage of the death of Michael Jackson

My hair brained theory says that it all comes down to baseball, just as everything else in life. My belief is that when the Chicago Cubs win the World’s Series that we’d better start looking to the East, and pronto.

I’m actually somewhat serious. I have no emotional investment in the Cubs, I’m a San Francisco Giants fan who has a fondness for the Oakland A’s. I enjoyed the hell out of the 1989 NLCS when the Giants won the NL pennant against against the Cubs. I love the Giants, Willie Mays was and always will be the best baseball player who ever lived to me and though far away, and I can name player after player for the team over the years that I admire and I am really pissed at the way Barry Bonds has been singled out while guys like A-Rod and Manny get their wrists slapped and continue to play. Since I am such a partisan Giants fan with no emotional or spiritual attachment to the Cubs, I think that I can honestly say that I am impartial observer of this prophetic event. At least as far as the Cubs are concerned. I hold no personal animus against the long suffering Cubs, they are not the Evil Dodgers nor related to the anti-Christ, unless you are a Cardinals or Brewers fan.

Last year I was actually somewhat concerned that the Cubs were going to see Jesus back into town. The Cubs were a favorite to reach the World Series and maybe win it. They appeared to have the best team in baseball and it was 100 years exactly since the last series that they won. I was worried because as much as I believe that Jesus will come again, I have to confess that I’d prefer he wait until some following generation to do it. The Cubs finished the regular season with a 97-64 record, the best in the National League. The Evil Dodgers swept them in the NLDS ensuring that the Cubs would not make the series and calming my fears that Jesus might come before I could see the Giants win a World Series.

One has to look at history and see all the disappointment that Cubs fans have suffered over the years. Think of the times that the experts said it was the Cubs time. In 1984 they blew a 2 game to none lead in the NLDS and lost to the Padres. In 1989 the Giants took them in 5 games. In 1998 swept by the Braves, Remember the 2003 NLCS against the Marlins? Up in the top of the 8th in game six and then everything fell apart shortly after the errant Cubs fan reached out and caught a foul ball that was almost in the glove of the Cub defender? Swept by the Diamondbacks in 2007 and again swept by the Evil Dodgers in 2008. There has to be something to this. It is too eerily similar to guys like Hal Lindsey and others who keep reading the headlines and predicting Jesus’ return, and when he doesn’t they have to look at the headlines again, wait for another crisis and write another book. Those who follow the Cubs are like followers of the Christian prophecy movement are always disappointed when their playoff prophets are proved wrong again and again.

Thus, all this considered I must be right, there is a correlation between the Cubs and and eschatology. I could be full of crap, but I think I have something here, the Deity Herself I think assures me of this considering her love of Baseball. In the W.P. Kinsella novel The Iowa Baseball Confederacy a young man ventures to the end of a rail spur and ends up transported back in time to 1908 to a place in Iowa where the Cubs were playing an exhibition against a team of local all stars. The game took on mythic proportions, and not to spoil the book, which I highly recommend, it tells of cataclysmic and cosmological significance of the 1908 Cubs.

I guess that to paraphrase Colonel Nathan R Jessup in A Few Good Men “The Cubs playoff defeats while tragic, probably saved lives.” I’ll end here, but to those who expect the Cubs to win the World’s Series you’d better be careful what you ask for…when you are rejoicing that the Cubs finally have won, Jesus may come and spoil your parade.

Filed under: Baseball, Religion | Tagged: Baseball, Religion

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Tagged as a few good men, alex rodriguez, anti-christ, barry bonds, chicago cubs, colonel nathan r jessup, dodgers, eschatology, florida marlins, grant jeffery, hal lindsey, jack van impe, john hagee, left behind movies, left behind novels, manny ramirez, michael jackson, milwaukee brewers, nlcs, nlds, oakland athletics, people magazine, san fransisco giants, st louis cardinals, the iowa baseball confederacy, the late great planet earth, the prophecy club, tim lahaye, w p kinsella, world series

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 3^rd 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 4^th 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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Tagged as alzheimer's disease, autobahns, bufflao bisons, casey at the bat, chicage midway, dodgers, germany, giants, governator, hampton roads, honda cr-v, met's, milk bone, mudville, mudville nine, napa, narcissism, nissan altima, norfolk international airport, norfolk tides, nursing homes, o.j., purgatory, raley's, ricky henderson, southwest airlines, stockton ca, stockton ports, tsa

April 16, 2009 · 21:37

Here’s to you Jackie Robinson

“He led America by example. He reminded our people of what was right and he reminded them of what was wrong. I think it can be safely said today that Jackie Robnson made the United States a better nation.” – American League President Gene Budig

“Life is not a spectator sport. If you’re going to spend your whole life in the grandstand just watching what goes on, in my opinion you’re wasting your life.” Jackie Robinson

April 15th 2009 was the 62nd anniversary of Jackie Robinson’s first game in the Major Leagues with the Brooklyn. Robinson’s first game with the Dodgers came a full year before President Truman integrated the military and a full seven years before the Supreme Court ruled school segregation unconstitutional. It was not until 1964 that the Voters Rights act passed in Congress. Jackie Robinson paved the way for a change in American society that has continued for 62 years since his debut at Ebbetts Field on April 15th 1947.

Jackie’s feat was a watershed moment in the history of our country. Blacks had struggled for years against Jim Crow laws, discrimination in voting rights, and even simple human decencies such as where they could use a rest room, what hotels they could stay in or what part of the bus that they could sit. In baseball many white fans were upset that blacks would be coming to see Robinson in stadiums that they would not have been allowed in before. Players from other teams heckled Robinson, he received hate mail, people sent made death threats, he was spiked and spit on. But Jackie Robinson kept his pledge to Dodgers owner Branch Rickey not to lash out at his tormentors, as Rickey told him that he needed a man “with enough guts not to strike back.”

Jackie Robinson played the game with passion and even anger. He took the advice of Hank Greenberg who as a Jew suffered continual racial epithets throughout his career “the best ways to combat slurs from the opposing dugout is to beat them on the field.” He would be honored as Rookie of the Year, was MVP, played in six World Series and six All Star Games. He had a career .311 batting average, .409 on base percentage and .474 Slugging percentage. He was elected to Baseball’s Hall of Fame in 1962.

Today Jackie Robinson’s feat is history, but it should not be forgotten. He was a pioneer who made it possible for others to move forward. He would be followed by players like Roy Campinella, Satchel Paige, Don Larson, Larry Dobie and Willie Mays. His breakthrough had an effect not just on baseball but on society.

Jackie Robinson would have an effect on my life. In 1975 the Stockton Unified School District voted to desegrigate. I was in the 9th grade and preparing for high school. As the school board wrestled with the decision anger boiled throughout the town, especially in the more affluent areas. Vicious letters were sent to the school board and to the Stockton Record by parents as well as other opponents of the move. Threats of violence and predictions failure were commonplace. In the summer of 1975 those who went out for the football team, both the sophomore and varsity squads began to practice. Black, White, Mexican and Asian, we bonded as a team, the Edison Vikings. By the time the first buses pulled up to the bus stops throughout town on the first day of school, the sense of foreboding ended. Students of all races discovered common interests and goals. New friends became guests in each others homes, and all of us became “Soul Vikes.”

30 years later the Class of 1978, the first class to be desegregated from start to finish graduated from Edison held a reunion. Our class always had a special feel about it. Looking back we too were pioneers, like Jackie Robinson we were far ahead of our time. When I look at my friends on Facebook from Edison I see the same faces that I played ball, rode the bus and went to class with. Things have changed. Even 30 years ago none of us imagined a African American President, we believed in each other and we saw potential, but I don’t think that anyone believed that we would see this in our day.

I think that Jackie Robinson prepared the way for other pioneers of Civil Rights including Dr. Martin Luther King. Today, 62 years plus one day, Jackie Robinson looms large not only in baseball, but for the impact of his life and actions on America. Here’s to you Jackie Robinson. Thank you and God bless.

Peace, Steve+

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Filed under Baseball, History, Loose thoughts and musings

Tagged as 1964 voters rights act, Baseball, branch rickey, dodgers, ebbetts field, edison high school vikings, hank greenberg, jackie robinson, martin luther king, soul vikes, stockton unified school district

Tag Archives: dodgers

Meeting Jesus and the Team at 7-11

Tides Win in Durham 6-4

My Life and Baseball: How Padre Steve Makes Some Sense of the World

Padre Steve’s MLB Championship Series Picks

Offensively Offending the Chronically Offended

A Trip to the Home World, Tithing on the Speed Limit, a Tooth Joins the Ranks of the Undead and a Giant No Hitter

Visiting the Super Holy International Temple: The Ten Pretty Good Suggestions

Discerning the Second Coming: The Cubs are the Key

The Journey to Mudville

Here’s to you Jackie Robinson

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