Yesterday was the ultimate in baseball with the World Series. Today is college football.
The Oklahoma State Cowboys are looking pretty good against Baylor, but, I still think it is a Geaux Tigers kind of year.
Anyone who reads this blog occasionally knows that I'm a Texas Aggie fan. I have to be loyal. After all, when you have a diploma from there it is required. This wasn't a good day for the Ags. We have struggled with playing both halves of the game all year long. I can't believe we let Mizzou do that to us.
My son is at LSU. The Aggies are heading to the SEC. If we don't get our act together before next year, I anticipate a bit of gloating on the part of my son.
I probably should be watching Oklahoma and K-State. It looks like a better game from the score.
What am I saying? Why am I vegetating in front of the television? I could be taking a nap instead......
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
Watching the World Series
I don't normally watch much baseball. I don't necessarily dislike it, I just don't usually watch it. It seems there is always something else to do that I prefer.
I've been watching the World Series pretty closely though. Yes, I admit it's because the Texas Rangers are in it. I am watching Game 7 right now. It is the bottom of the 7th and the score is St. Louis 5, Texas 2. There is 1 out and the count is 3-1.
I grew up with baseball. My dad absolutely loved the sport. He always coached -- everything from Pee-Wee to Little League to Jr. Babe Ruth to Senior Babe Ruth. He was frequently the league President in our little town. He worked hard to keep the sport alive, even when it seemed to elicit little interest from many of the parents who were so self-absorbed they didn't take the time to encourage their kids to become involved. They would rather have their own fun and let the kids hang out and watch them.
If it wasn't for Dad, baseball in our little town might have died. However, we spent hours working to get the ball parks in shape. Dad took a lot of pride in making sure everything was perfect. The parks in our little town became well-known for the quality of the facilities and the program. Enough so that our little town hosted the state Senior Babe Ruth Tournament.
I wasn't a particularly gifted athlete. Small, slow and less-than-perfect eyes generally relegated me to the bench. But, I could keep score. If we got way ahead I might get into right field for half of an inning. That was about it. But, I knew the game. I knew the rules and I could kee score.
Many times I ended up as the official score keeper or as the announcer -- not when my team was playing, but, when someone else played I often went to the press box -- or, scorekeeper/announcer's box in our little town.
I never grew to love the sport as Dad did but, as I sit here watching the Rangers, I realize that deep down, a little of that love for the sport must have permeated my bones.
Last year my little home town honored Dad by admitting him into their baseball hall of fame. They gave him a nice plaque and took his photo. It was truly a gift to him.
He still loves the game. He doesn't get around like he used to so he sits in his chair and watches it on television. It's one of the few things that engages him now. It is a rare contact with the present.
Well, the 7th is finally over. The score is now 6 to 2. I have to watch but, I must admit that my feelings about this one resemble a sinking pitch on the outside corner.
I've been watching the World Series pretty closely though. Yes, I admit it's because the Texas Rangers are in it. I am watching Game 7 right now. It is the bottom of the 7th and the score is St. Louis 5, Texas 2. There is 1 out and the count is 3-1.
I grew up with baseball. My dad absolutely loved the sport. He always coached -- everything from Pee-Wee to Little League to Jr. Babe Ruth to Senior Babe Ruth. He was frequently the league President in our little town. He worked hard to keep the sport alive, even when it seemed to elicit little interest from many of the parents who were so self-absorbed they didn't take the time to encourage their kids to become involved. They would rather have their own fun and let the kids hang out and watch them.
If it wasn't for Dad, baseball in our little town might have died. However, we spent hours working to get the ball parks in shape. Dad took a lot of pride in making sure everything was perfect. The parks in our little town became well-known for the quality of the facilities and the program. Enough so that our little town hosted the state Senior Babe Ruth Tournament.
I wasn't a particularly gifted athlete. Small, slow and less-than-perfect eyes generally relegated me to the bench. But, I could keep score. If we got way ahead I might get into right field for half of an inning. That was about it. But, I knew the game. I knew the rules and I could kee score.
Many times I ended up as the official score keeper or as the announcer -- not when my team was playing, but, when someone else played I often went to the press box -- or, scorekeeper/announcer's box in our little town.
I never grew to love the sport as Dad did but, as I sit here watching the Rangers, I realize that deep down, a little of that love for the sport must have permeated my bones.
Last year my little home town honored Dad by admitting him into their baseball hall of fame. They gave him a nice plaque and took his photo. It was truly a gift to him.
He still loves the game. He doesn't get around like he used to so he sits in his chair and watches it on television. It's one of the few things that engages him now. It is a rare contact with the present.
Well, the 7th is finally over. The score is now 6 to 2. I have to watch but, I must admit that my feelings about this one resemble a sinking pitch on the outside corner.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Office Time
I'm getting in a little office time from the motel today. While I have been working, I've been listening to the news. The more I listen the more I think people are crazy. Or, perhaps more accurately, reactionary. They react to things about which they know nothing in a way that makes no sense if they knew anything about it. OK, I'm talking about the protests and rhetoric about the new fees being imposed by many of the big banks. They don't need to be protesting Wall Street, they need to be protesting the folks in Washington. You know, the ones who changed the rules that basically forced the banks to recover the loss of income due to those rules changes. Oh, the banks even told them before they enacted the legislation. Duh.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Delete
I hate it when I start a post and decided to not finish it. Especially when I get several paragraphs completed before deciding that 1) I didn't like what I wrote because it was poorly done or 2) I probably shouldn't have written what I did for a public blog in the first place -- not that I would ever do such a thing.....
But, sometimes I just write and write what is on my mind and then when I finally stop and read it I think, hmmmm......delete. At least it was therapeutic for a moment!
Chris
But, sometimes I just write and write what is on my mind and then when I finally stop and read it I think, hmmmm......delete. At least it was therapeutic for a moment!
Chris
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