I really like my team. I like them a lot. I might even go out on a limb and say I love them. This is really true. Almost each and every one of them are great (in my eyes).
Yesterday I get to the field, unload my cart, fill up water jugs and do the other OCD stuff I happen to love to do. I then get a Gatorade for arch and we have one of the best talks ever. We just sat there behind first base on the mule contemplating the meaning of life and how much we love what we do. I really am blessed to have such an amazing job. I thoroughly enjoy working baseball. Well the field dries and its time for him to drag, so I go back toward the dugout and good ole Toddy is sitting there eating some nacho cheese combos. We talk for a lil about something random I'm sure. And again I realize just how lucky I am to have a great group of boys. Other players begin to show up. Each person is in their own world. Griggs is off eating his fingers for his afternoon snack, Vance is swinging a bat, Kacz is doing push-ups, Enright is playing the national anthem on his mouth guitar, Huling is checking out his booty, Rose is flexing, Reece is admiring his red fro, Blinn is singing (sure to be driving someone nuts), Wanne is complaining about his tricep, Chestnut is dancing, Zaps is setting up the field for BP all by himself, the Pitchers are playing flips except for Tator, who is talking to his lil brother Adam, both laughing, Choate is hitting a fungo in the cage. Awe... the sounds of the dugout.
Batting practice begins, same music is playing that has been playing every batting practice for the last 5 years, minus that darn nickelback cd that thankfully got destroyed. And all is well... or so I think. In each group at least one person is mad, either Marx is changing something about their swing or Lunchbox isn't throwing the ball where they want it... poor coaches it's a no win job -- can't make everyone happy.
Wesleyan takes the field for BP, they have about 4-6 guys at every infield position, and bless their hearts not a one of them are very good.
In and out is taken, lucky for me no over thrown balls at third base - that would have bonked me right in my forehead. Choate has finally arrived back at the field for the game, listening to his headphones, in his pitcher gameday mode.
The field is cleaned up and it's about time to play. The national athem is played, weirdness is going on behind me - I see Mooney trying to lick Kev-O's ear and all sorts of spitting noises are being heard.
Choate is on the bump and the game begins. Today I made a bet that Tyler wouldn't hear my lil annoying let's go t-man voice today... and I successfully did not cheer for him at all, outloud... however, I clapped and was rooting for him the whole time. It's simply wonderful seeing him throwing and being successful. Deep down, I really am super happy for him. He may be the biggest most selfish punk, but I've realized it's just him. and he's ok. His desire to play, be successful, and win is great and I'm truly excited for him this season. He was a homerun shy of the cycle during the game... pretty awesome if you ask me! click here to read the article!
Our dug out is loud and crazy most of the game... but Moons takes the cake with the random scream of the day, making arch say what in the h was that, it was Moons all hyped up on smarties out of the wonderful candy bag.
A 10-0 victory to us and we are back in first place in the conference... and man does winning feel great! And yep at the end of the day - I LOVE MY TEAM!
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