Open Gym

 Went to my first volleyball open gym since... i dunno.. high school??!?

It was actually a means to get SW a chance to touch the ball a bit before tryouts.  Got there and I immediately start making small talk... with old and young.  I guess people generally like friendly people... not necessarily talkative people.  And got SW signed up with a team that had 5.... which I guess was a bad move... as I find out later on.  He wanted to find his own team... a team of peers and maybe folks that weren't as good.  

As for me... I start roaming around and find a father son team.  We had a threesome.  And slowly.. we figured out the house rules of 2 and out.  We slowly formed a team of 6 and we waited to get on. I wasn't nervous but I knew within a few serves, I was not in volleyball shape.

I couldn't get down to pass.  My timing was so bad with my hits.  The "kids", or the 30 year olds, were out-jousting and over-dinking me.  The only thing I can do... oddly enough... was set!! Got so many compliments on my soft, impeccable hand and bump sets.  I was actually amazed how perfect they were.  Haha...

At the end of the night... I didn't even get one clean hit.  And now... I'm paying for it.  Sore in my neck, arms, thighs, calves.  Ohhhhhh.... pain never felt so good.  

Next one up...

At SW's tournaments the past two weeks... you can clearly see the importance of the "next one up" mentality.  Their team's middle block is a rookie to the sport.  He's tall and athletic but not even close to being a volleyball player.  He goes to every practice... works hard... goes to every tournament... cheers for his team... but gets zero playing time.  Up until... the starting middle gets hurt and it's next man up.  All that hardwork as paid off.  All that sitting and observing... is coming into fruition. Always be ready.  The coach can call your number at any time.

On the flipside... SW has been the starting lib all season.  To a point where the backup lib gets zero playtime.  It's not every fair.  We feel bad for their parents who has to go watch their kid ride the bench every single tournament.  And then this weekend... the script was flipped.  SW starting crashing out.  Whether it's because he was sick or because the other team exploited him.  He was just not there.  Not passing it.  Not digging it.  Not playing up to par.  And he finally got subbed out... and not subbed back in.  

That's the way life rolls sometimes.  Ride your rapids and there'll smooth waters ahead.  Or beware of the smooth waters cuz it could be a water fall around the river bend. 

The Franchise

Been polishing about a book a week... barring any unforeseen meetings or functions.  This was a a tough read for a number of reasons.  Pavlovic is probably the least favorite of all the beats.  Some of the players and event outdate me... so I don't have a first person passion for it.  But the toughest of tough was... of course... 2002.  5 run lead.  6 outs.  Why give him the ball???  Why Dusty?!?!?!?

No... 2010, 2012, 2014 will not make up for it.  It helps... but no.  

Tough pill to swallow

 Day 2 of the Norcal Tournament…. And the boys were clearly hitting their stride.  They went back to their original rotation, with SW as setting and Rishab as middle.  We didn’t have any problems with the 1^st set of the 1^st match…. Playing a team that we’ve always played and never lost to.  We were up comfortably and needed one more point to win…. When SW decided to showboat (or play up) and served a topper to the top of the net.  Much to the dismay of all the parents, “Why!?!??!?!”  Luckily… that one little mishap didn’t turn into bad happenings.  We ended up beating Aspire Ninja handily… which goes to show how much the team has improved.

But in the finals of the Bronze bracket… after winning the 1^st set without breaking a set… everyone started fooling around.  The Coach played with the lineup to let other players play.  And after it went back and forth… back and forth… it started looking like this might not go our way.  One of the bystander parents even said, “Looks like this might go to 3.”  For some reason, we just couldn’t pull away.  Until… we finally did.  We were up by 3… and had all the momentum.  Then… one of the players decided to showboat, like SW did, and serve a topper.  His serve not only didn’t make it over the net… it actually hit one of our own players.  No worries.  We were still up by 2.  And then… things started unraveling.  One point after another… we kept messing up.  Simple, stupid mistakes.  The momentum… suddenly swung.  Even after a couple of couldn’t stop the avalanche.  23-25.  Lost the 2^nd set. 

No worries… we were clearly the better team.  We just need to hunker down and play like we played in the first set.  We got this.  For the 3^rd set… set went with our “3^rd set rotation – where we go 5:1.”  And within a blink of an eye… we were down 0-8.  Horrible passes.  Miscommunication between SW and the middle.  Ill-advised plays.  Everyone was just going the wrong way.  We eventually tied it at 11-11 and thinking… our experience can take us over the hill.  Not this time.  Not with the showboating.  Not with the series of bad and missed-calls from the refs.  The deck was stacked against us… the final score was 11-15.  One of the worst losses of this team’s history.  Almost as bad as being up 10-0 against MVVC and throwing it.  This was worst.  This was against a clearly worse team.  It was painful… it sucked…. And the boys had to wear it.  May it be a lesson learned in life… foot on the neck.  Strike first.  Strike hard. No mercy. 

Don't ever forget that feeling!!

SW and I went to shoot some hoops today.  For whatever reason... he had an off day and I beat him in all of our games.  He was feeling pretty lousy.  But then... what I've been wanting to do... was drive him back onto campus.  I parked right next to the bench where he and I sat when he found out he didn't make Team A.

I pointed to the bench... "Remember that day... the third day of tryouts... and Coach Jacob said you were on Team B?"  

He quickly responded, with tears welling up, "Yeah." 

I didn't expect that response... but I guess to him... the wound is still deep and healing.  I then asked, "So you remember how you felt.  Do you remember how you felt when you won MVP?"

Much to my surprise, he said, "Not really."  I guess, in life, the 5 oz of pain far outweights 5 lbs of gains.  

I launch into a speech, "Don't ever forget that feeling. No matter how low life can get... you pick up yourself up.  Use your God-given talent.  Put in hardwork.  Extra effort.  Your coach will see it.  Your teammate, who voted you MVP, will recognize it.  You will become a better player.  A better person.  There will be more disappointments in life.  And in those moments, you will need to rise up.  Look that fear and disappointment in the eye and show them who's boss."  

We then went to McDonalds and got a cold drink and some crispy, hot fries. 

M.I.P.

At the end of season team celebration... Coach Noah started handing out awards.  "The Most Improved Player award for The King's Academy Jr. High Flag Football goes to... Joshua!!"  With both arms raised in triumph and pride... SW aptly accepts the M.I.P. award.  

Keep pushing, son.  This world is not always on our side.  We need to earn every bit of it... with every last ounce of strength and grit.  So proud of you. 

Nightmare lives on...

COVID-19 - School Closure - Day 61

A couple of weeks ago... KNBR was replaying the 2010 NLCS. Looking back, that strike 3 call was probably one of the greatest moments of my life.  Forever immortalized here...

I've buried 2002 into the deep gorges of tartares. Other than some obvious narratives... I've stayed away from thinking too much about those final 7 games. Yesterday on Youtube... there was a tribute to Barry Bonds... showing how he hit a soaring HR to the upper deck off K-Rod in Game 6 to put us up 5-0. And then... the floodgates opened up. the anger... fear.... anxiety... started pouring in. That was suppose to be the magic ending. The perfect ending to an otherwise tumultuous year. Only... the tumult continued.....

Oh the pain.... it hurts so badly.

I can't help but think of 47. The power outage. Those deep bombs. 2 yards out.... and we don't hand it to Gore.

I try with every last fiber of my being to push out 54... only to think of the "3rd and 15" play that will go down in infamy. Every now and then... while I'm tossing a football with the kids... I realize how easy it could've been for Jimmy G to drop it in the hands of Sanders.

In the midst of COVID and SIP... I count my blessings. Yet... in the eye of this hurricane is still those memories that will forever haunt me... to the day I go 6 feet under. The nightmare lives on....

Floppin'

COVID-19 - School Closure - Day 36

Futbol did not invent the flop.

Vlade Divac did not bring it to America.

Witnessed it with my own eyes today... as we were playing football on our front lawn... NN barely touches SW... and SW tumbles to the ground, loses his shoe and rolls for a full 720 before coming to a stop.  He bounces back up... screams, "Pass interference!!!"  then starts limping as he goes to pick up his shoe.

Who taught him that?!?!?!

F***....................

Watch out world... another 365 days of "Eff-You Mode"

Gawd I hate being a sports fan...

Air it out...

There comes a time in life...when a tragedy occurs that simply leaves you dumbfounded, awestruck, devasted...to a point where you don't even know how to feel or react.  

• Case in point.... Two 747's crashing into the World Trade Center.  You look in disbelief...you're wondering what just happened, and you're just glued to a TV finding clues on how you should be feeling.
• Case in point... You walk back to your car to find the window broken.  Your stereo is gone.  Your $100 Banana Republic coat is gone.  All that's left are shards of broken glass, a feeling of violation and question marks hovering over you.
• Case in point... Buster Posey gets pummeled and in the midst of that, he breaks and ankle and tears a few ligaments.  It was a clean play or a great play in terms of pure baseball.  But we're left not knowing how to feel. 

The next morning... I couldn't even turn on the radio.  All the talk radio stations (that I listen to) were replaying the Posey play. I needed an outlet.  So I turned to good ol' FM music stations.  All garbage.  And they took away the Classical Station.  Ended up just turning off the radio and drove in silence.

That night...had a cathartic experience where a couple of buddies aired out our emotions on Facebook.   Trying to think of another situation similar to this, where it's just a spirit crushing loss of the heart and soul of the team
 Garrison Hearst "breaking" his ankle in the '98 Playoffs?
Montana getting knocked out by the Giants in the 1990 Playoff?
Game 6 in the year that never happened?
Jose Cruz Jr. and his Gold Glove OOPS!! and JT sliding into Pudge?

In the end... I think I came up with the best analaogy (I think).... when Daniel Larusso enters the All Valley Karate Tournament, exceeds all expectations and makes it to the finals against Johnny.  Has the upper hand when Kreese tells Johnny to "Sweep the leg."  Daniel collapses like a house of cards... only to have a Japanese guy (Ishikawa?) give him a rub down.... and he comes back and Crane Kicks his way into the Championship.

After that... it felt much better.

Darn you Giants!!! DARN YOU!!!

8th inning...we were up 1-0.  Then within a blink of an eye... we were down 2-1!!!! 

They Braves don't deserve it!!!  All their players are injured!  Sanchy pitched a gem.  They've won a World Series.  This one belongs to us!! It's only fair. 

I started punching things... Nui-nui got scared when she saw daddy lose his head.  Mom had to take hide Nui-nui to prevent collateral damage.  I hid myself in our room, punching this... punching that... (all soft stuff) and ended up spraining my wrist. 

Stoopid Giants!! I hate loving you... and right now I love to hate you!!!!

9th inning... we're down to our last out.  Down to our last strike.  Why am I still tuning into the game??? Cuz I'm stoopid crazy enough to believe we can still comeback.  Wagner is hurt.  The Braves are vulnerable.  And we had a former batting champ at the plate. 

The rest... is history.  Single... walk... single... error.... GAME!

Up 2-1 with Mad Bum going tomorrow. 

Why am I still watching....? Why am I still rooting...? Probably cuz deep down inside... I believe....

Mood: tortured

I hate the Giants...

They did it to me again!! Fool me once...shame on me.  Fool me twice.... shame on me again?!?!?!?!?! Fool me every year since 1987!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  SHAME ON YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..... why do I keep letting them drive that knife into my heart? into my soul? Can't they just go away??  This is worse than a bad breakup with the lunatic ex.  This is worse than being lactose intolerant and going back for more Cold Stone.  This is worse than going to Costco thinking you'll leave with just ONE thing...

Anguish.  Hopelessness. Utter darkness. You name it... I'm feeling it.  And the only way for me to escape this feeling of despair is to mask those feelings with hatred.  ARGGGGGHHHHH....

"Fear leads to anger.  Anger leads to hate.  Hate leads to.....SUFFERING."
       --Master Yoda

Mood: numb

Ohhhh I hate the Giants...

As we're driving towards the Louie's and heard that we're 1/2 game back... I start thinking of how I'm going to celebrate winning the World Series. 
Once again...they're giving me hope that they'll actually win it.
I really hate the Giants sometimes... really really do.

 
Mood: hopeful

What is a sport?

Absolutely love it when the debate arises about... What is a sport?

Some argue, "You need to physically impede someone..."  That rules out tennis, golf, bowling....
Some argue, "You can't use a machine..." That rules out cycling and autoracing...
Some argue, "If you don't need a judge that can decide the outcome..." That rules out 70% of the Olympics...(figure skating, diving...)

But y'know what sport we just described???  America's past time.... BASEBALL!!!

How many times have umpires decided the outcome of a game?  Like the imperfect Perfect Game this year? Or today's Giants' lost to the Mets! (Yes...this is a ranting post).  It was completely the umpires incompetence that has tarnished our game!!! 

Mood: miffed

The Year that Never Happened

2002 was one of the worst years of my life. Joyce graduated and struggled hard to get a job. Then when she finally found a job, I got my pink slip. Shortly after I started my new job after 6 months of unemployment, she gets laid off. Those memories are remedied by the fact we're both employed. God was providing.

But there was one event, one wound, one nightmare that has not even begun to heal. I've pushed that memory aside to the point where I claim 2002 never happened. No matter how hard I try, no matter how deep I go into denial, no matter how far I've repressed it... the events still lurch in the shadows.

This weekend, the events were particularly resurrected with the enshrinement of Jeff Kent to the Giants Wall of Fame. All the journalists haaaaaaaad to make Kent recount the events in 2002 cuz they know he'll talk. And they know it'll generate an audience and ratings. And of course, there are guys like me who are masochistic enuf to suck it in no matter how hard we try to turn away.

I so depressed... to a point where my eyes are literally tearing up as I recount the events of that fateful October night. When will the wounds mend? God...will you provide?

Mood: depressed

The Designated Hitter

Another one of those timeless debates - should we have the Designated Hitter in baseball? I personally love the idea of having a DH. You have good offense up and down the order. Every ninth at-bat isn't a sure out (almost). And the other night, Matt Cain got the win in Seattle, only because there was a DH.

There are those naysayers out there who say it's not pure baseball. We devalue the pitcher's hitting capability. And AL baseball is not as strategic as NL baseaball. To those people... I say, "Ah-ha!" And that's all I can say...

Mood: partially vindicated

Why I like sports...

I like sports. I can honestly say I spend more time on sports (playing, watching, reading, analyzing, researching, thinking...) then any other leisures in life. On the tail end of Miami Heat winning their 1st NBA championship, I figure I oughta capitalize on this high and scribble some reasons as to Why I like sports...(in no particular order)

1) Giving praise to God. Some do it...some don't. But when they do...I get teary eyed. Dwyane Wade gave all the praise and glory to God as he accepted his NBA MVP trophy. How true is it that everything we have comes from the Lord? Thank you for acknowledging that in front of the world.

2) R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Aretha Franklin sang it... the players demonstrate it. You respect your coach. You respect the other players. You respect the National Anthem by removing your hat and standing up. Respect is 60,000 fans boo-ing Bonds as he comes to plate, only to have that very same 60,000 fans clapping when he hits a Homerun. Respect is Roger Clemens getting a standing ovation as he walks off into the sunset (the first time) during the World Series in Florida. Respect is when a player who gets tackled, gets up, slaps the tackler on the butt and continues play.

3) Vindication... ahhhh.... Montana got forced out of San Francisco, only to come back and beat the Niners (probably the only time I rooted against my Niners). John Gruden destroys the Raiders after being forced out of Oakland by Al Davis. Shaq shows the world he can do it without Kobe and Phil... when the Lakers barely make the playoffs. Don't we all have that same urge to say, "I told you so!!"

4) Miracles. "Do you believe in miracles?!?" Famous words from Al Michaels as the US Hockey team defeats the Goliath Russian in the 1980 Olympic Hockey Semi-Finals. The team that comes out of nowhere to and overcomes the impossible, with the winners, cheering not cuz they just won, but cuz they didn't lose. And the loser being so distraught, they can't even breathe.

5) Cheering in spite of... This is very close to R-E-S-P-E-C-T. But whenever any player gets hurt, the entire stadium stops. Fans, vendors, teammates, opposing team. Every single person stops and starts praying. When will you ever see a bunch of 300 lb men, holding hands, kneeling in a circle, praying for the well-being of another man? And when the injured gets up... winning and losing doesn't even matter any more. All that matters is the person is okay.

6) Get away from it all. People need ways to R&R. A baseball game, or a football game or anything, for 3 hours, helps a person escape from the realities of life to relax that 5 lb tissue in between the ears.

7) It's healthy! Albeit, the steroid (HGH) era is definitely the Joker to this Batman. And sitting in front of a TV with a sausage hanging out of your mouth with a beer in your hand is anywhere near healthy. But playing sports, in the words of YMCA, enriches the "mind, body and spirit." It builds the body. It builds friendship. It builds commamarderie.

8) The halftime show. Franchises have taken the halftime show to a whole new level now. The Superbowl spends more money for that 7 minutes of entertainment than the venue itself (tongue in cheek). At a recent Warriors/Rockets game, the Warriors invited a bunch of Chinese acrobats to perform with Thunder dunking sky high dunks. It's also the perfect time to make a run to the bathroom. (Stadium bathrooms deserve it's own posting, someday).

9) The Underdog. Unless you're part of the fine few, born with the looks of Brad Pitt, the wallet of Bill Gates, the brains of Albert Einstein... you're the underdog. You're always finding ways to get ahead in life. It's you against the world. And anytime there's a team out there who can defy all odds to make it where they are, you can't help but root for them. They can lose, but just the fact they've triumphed over stigma of being an "underdog", they're already winners.

10) It's the ultimate reality show (minus the Vegas stakeholder influence). Is there any other form of entertainment that reveals a person's true feelings? Tears from winning, tears from losing. Anger and frustration from bad officiating. Utter humdrumness from complete insouciance that can flip and flop at a moment's twist? It's pure.

11) The Wave. Anytime you have so many people doing the same thing in unsion, you have to be give props. Heavily despised in baseball... but we'll save that for another entry.

Preliminary list... this list will definitely grow....