Back to school...

I rarely, if ever, make rash decisions unless they involve motorcycles, cars, and power tools. Recently, I made the decision to return to school to continue an education I left behind 25 years ago... and, no... its not to complete my GED. I decided it was time to complete my bachelors degree which, at the time, happened to be in Radio/Television/Film. Being 19 years old and already tired of school I dropped out as soon as the first company offered me more than $10 an hour. This "great" salary gave me all the independence I needed to move out on my own, get married, get divorced, get married again, and get kids... all within the first few years of my fabulous independence.

Luckily, I managed to fall into a teaching career which brings me back full circle to where I am now. While raising my daughters, I always stressed the importance of a college education. It was never if they were going to college but where they were going to go. It was a vision I never had as a child. Neither of my parents went to college and neither really cared about my grades as long as I graduated. Becoming part of the workforce after high school was just an expectation I gladly obliged. Becoming a teacher forced me to recognize and respect the value and privilege of knowledge. Watching my oldest daughter walk across the stage for her diploma made me realize just how hypocritical I have been all these years. She's off to Baylor to begin her college education and I still have yet to complete mine 25 years later.

I'm now a 43 year old freshman at Tarleton State University. Technically, I should be a sophomore but, since its been two decades since my last college-level course, some of my credits "expired"... I did not know they could do that. I don't feel quite as old as Rodney Dangerfield and I am definitely not attending any frat parties since all of my courses are on-line. I hope to complete my degree before my daughter does but, if I don't, that's okay too. I just feel better about not being that dad who tells his kids "Do as I say, not as I do."

One More Season In The Sun...

Every year for the last 20+ plus years, about the time the winter frost turns to chilly mornings, I get a funny feeling in my gut. Its a feeling that tells me it's time to start shedding my winter blubber and begin the rituals of spring training. I can remember playing baseball at such a young age that a typical backyard field looked like a stadium to our rag-tag team. My father was never a baseball fan... so I never became a player until I was old enough to do something about it. I found my outlet for hardball in my early 20's when, by chance, the Fort Worth Amateur Baseball League placed an ad in the local paper looking for teams. The rest is history.

The name of the team has changed over the years but some things have remained the same. There are still a handful players that have stuck with the team through thick and thin. Playing when we were losing every single game and reaping the benefits of championship seasons that would eventually come. Being part of a baseball team is so different from other team sports. The camaraderie that you build playing through a 20-30 game season can form friendships that last forever. So many players, so many games and I remember almost all of them. Even opposing players that I couldn't stand eventually became respected friends with whom I would gladly have a beer. Its a bond that can only be built over time... or seasons, to be exact. I've played so long that I measure time in seasons, not years.

Today, I'm 43 years and 2 months old. After one dislocated elbow and another knee surgery, my wife and kids still ask when I'll hang up the spikes. I tried giving it up last year by skipping a season but my body still tells me I have a few more at-bats left in me. Somehow, I have this deep-seeded fear that I'll whither away and die if I ever stop playing for good. Hell, I've known players that have dropped dead on the diamond playing a game they love... I can only hope the same will happen to me. Much rather die on a field in my uniform than in a nursing home eating through a straw.

I'm in the midst of a 1-3 losing season and I'm still upbeat about our chances of making the playoffs this year. Its an excitement that has not faded over the years. I still look forward to wearing the uniform, walking onto the field, warming up with the guys and playing a game that has not changed since I was a child. My legs are a lot slower, the arm nowhere near as strong and the pants a little tighter. The leather glove and pine tar still smell the same... only this time, I'm a helluva better hitter with a .375 average... not bad for an old fart.

We're the Burleson Bulls. Check us out sometime www.eteamz.com/nababulls

SGP Class of 1984

I had my 25th high school reunion this past weekend and I have to admit that it was one of the best times I've had in a very long time. It was by no means my first reunion but definitely my favorite because of the relaxed feeling of the entire evening. I confess that, in past reunions, I was guilty of being more concerned about image and making a good impression but, as time goes by, I've become so much more appreciative of the friends that I've kept throughout the years. It was a small group that attended the reunion but I made an effort to catch up with every single one of our alumni. We had alumni from as far as Costa Rica and some from a few blocks away that never left the old neighborhoods. In past reunions, the committee would rent a banquet hall with a sit-down dinner and a DJ for the evening but, this time, there was a lot of grumbling about the cost of tickets for the event which affected the number of alumni that turned out for the event. It turns out that an all-you-can-eat-and-drink suite at the local Grand Prairie Airhogs minor league stadium is the perfect setting for a small group of alumni.

We are all older but so much more content and satisfied with our lives. The older we get the more we focus on the needs of our children and (for some of us) grandchildren. So many of us are just grateful to have the opportunity to enjoy each others' company and to catch up after so many years. There are times I'll stop and wonder if I've experienced my "mid-life" crisis but, after this past weekend, I truly feel as though I've embraced where I am in life... but I'm still keeping the crotch-rocket.

A Proud Father...

Often times, when I actually slow down enough, I'll reflect on where I've been in life and all of the special moments I've experienced as a father. The older I get the more I reflect because I know my time will fade away before I realize it. I recently experienced a special moment that I know will forever be ingrained as long as I live. Its one of the handful of "fatherly" moments a man never forgets as long as he maintains his sanity. On this day, my oldest daughter walked the stage for her high school graduation. I wondered how this moment could sneak up on me so quickly and then I realize the weeks and months we spent trying to get her into a good college, finding scholarships, applying for loans and scheduling ACT tests. Before I knew it, her graduation day was just a few days away and I had no idea how I was going to handle it. Being lucky enough to work in the school district she was graduating from allowed me a seat front and center and gave me the opportunity to meet her at the bottom of the steps as she walked off the stage.

I can see all of it in slow motion as she handed her name card to the announcer, smile as she heard her name called, walk forward and shake the hands of the school board members and the superintendent, slow down and reach for her diploma from the school principal and then scan the audience for family members. I remember thinking that she looked so mature... she wasn't my baby girl anymore... she was a grown woman. It was surreal to watch my child experience one of the most important moments in her very young life... only to find myself praying that this is not the most important that thing she'll accomplish in her life.

Just like that... it was over and now I'm the parent of a college student. A situation that comes with a completely different set of rules. A moment in time that I waited so long for has come and gone. I guess that's how life works sometimes... the longer I live the more I realize that its all about a collection of special moments that come and go. You experience one and then move on to the next and, if you're lucky enough, you'll remember them as vividly as the day they happened. At least I can hang on to the rule books for her younger sister... maybe some things will get easier and time goes by.

Uh... I'm Sorry?

As a man, the phrase "I'm sorry." should be ready to utter at any given moment when it comes to self-preservation in the midst of spousal argument. Don't get me wrong; I'm all about enforcing the man-code when it comes to issues that most women are not entirely familiar with (i.e. - automotive upkeep, lawn care, BBQ grilling, UFC etc.)... but, in some cases, its a no-win situation to even think about arguing your point. For example, my wife awoke one morning completely livid with me for a transgression committed IN HER DREAM! Normally, my wife is not a morning person so her silence was not unusual but as soon as I leaned over to kiss her goodbye I realized that she was upset and wanted nothing to do with me. Confused, I asked what was wrong and she proceeded to explain in great detail what an ass I had been in her dream last night. Without going into great detail, I had violated one of the 10 Commandments in some interesting ways and she caught me red-handed... IN HER DREAM.

Mistake #1 - I laughed. Soon afterward I realized by the look on her face that it was not funny to her because it was a very real anger she carried over from her dream.

Mistake #2 - I tried to make her laugh by asking if the girl was hot... response was the same as Mistake #1.

As much as I wanted to explain the complete insanity of her anger, I realized that this was a situation that mandated an "I'm sorry." response no matter how much I thought I was in the right. This is not the first time I have transgressed in her dreams/nightmares so I should know better than to make light of the situation and her feelings... self-preservation... remember that its the most important thing when it comes to saying "Uh, I'm sorry?"

An American Pastime?

While watching the Japan/Korea World Baseball Classic final last night, I realized that our beloved American Pastime might not actually belong solely to Americans anymore. Maybe its the inflated salaries, bloated egos or the continuing steroid allegations that just never seem to go away but we, as Americans, have become a little less enthusiastic about the game of baseball. I'm not saying that we don't love the game anymore but you have to admit that our fervor could take some lessons from the Japanese and Korean fans. After watching the USA team "phone it in" against the Japanese team, I pretty much wrote off the rest of the WBC waiting for the end of MLB spring training. Last night I decided to tune in a few innings of the Japan/Korea final only to find myself transfixed by one of the best games I've seen in many months (including the last World Series). The Asian ballplayers and their fans treated this game as if it were their "Game 7" and the end of the season... but it wasn't. This was just an international tournament. Its not even the Olympics but the national pride on both sides was very obvious.

Japanese and Korean fans alike screamed and yelled at every opportunity and hung on to every pitch and every swing. Each time ESPN scanned the crowd, every fan would wave and clap their thundersticks and scream at the top of their lungs no matter what may be happening on the field. It was a true love for the team they were supporting. The Koreans even filled a stadium with 20,000 fans halfway across the globe to watch a live simulcast of the game taking place in L.A. Now that is what I call dedication. But, besides the fan support, the players too displayed an obvious passion for the game. Each player on the field wanted the championship trophy as bad as the other and made sure their fans would get the game they deserved.

It made me a little sad thinking that the USA team should be in the final but their minds were already somewhere else thinking of the season ahead. I only hope that I get to see another quality game like the WBC final somewhere amongst the 162 MLB games this season. Sure, baseball is an American pastime but the Asians paid homage to the game by taking it to another level the USA team never came close to matching.

Bachelor is Biggest Loser...

For fear of having my man-card punched, I will only admit that, over the last couple of weeks, I have caught bits and pieces of The Bachelor while the wife watched religiously on my HD plasma TV. That alone is enough to make any man cringe because, as everyone knows, plasma TVs are made specifically for viewing NFL, MLB, NHL, NBA, MMA and the UFC in all their wondrous glory... oh, and Hawaiin Tropic bikini competitions too. That being said, I normally keep my mouth shut when it comes to the wife's choice of programming but this season's The Bachelor had an interesting twist to it. Jason Mesnick was last season's runner-up (loser) in The Bachelorette so he became the centerpiece in The Bachelor... only this time he brought his 3-year old boy along for the ride. I can't begin to tell you how wrong this is on so many levels but I gave him the benefit of the doubt hoping he wouldn't became the total ass I thought he would. Being a single dad for several years, I can count on one hand the number of women my girls met in 9 years of bachelorhood. This jerk was about to exceed that total in a matter of weeks. As I watched the finale, I caught several things that require this dork relinquish his man-card for good.

#1 - Never, never, never cry on a balcony like a little girl on national TV. This takes the "sensitive" guy concept way too far. Even women are thinking this guy is a wuss at that point.

#2 - Dumping someone is an inevitable part of life if you've ever dated. With the exception of soul mates that met in the 8th grade, most of us (men and women) have had to cut the ties with someone they were no longer interested in or had nothing in common with. This guy asks a girl to marry him, changes his mind, dumps her AND makes out with the other girl in front of her. Usually the crotch area is off-limits in any kind of altercation but she totally had my blessing to take a running start and bury her high heel in his scrotum.

#3 - Children are off-limits all the time. Period. I'm not sure how much they paid his ex-wife to agree to this crap but using your own child as a pawn in a TV show is as low as low can get. Using a dog to meet women is one thing but using your own kid to tug at the heart strings is completely different and despicable. Did anyone ever ask the kid what or who he wanted out of all this?

To sum it up. Jason Mesnick from here forth shall forfeit his MAN-CARD and will forever be relegated to the position of male wanna-be forced to attend parenting classes until said child is no longer dependent on his dumb ass for support. This is after he is given a vasectomy to prevent damage to future children under his care. Let's hope the damage he has done to the male species won't be permanent.