We spent the long holiday weekend as most Indiana residents who don’t go to the Speedway did: sitting near a body of water, listening to the Indy 500 on the radio1 while drinking beer with friends and waiting for some food that was slowly roasting on the grill to be ready. The weather was not ideal; it was unseasonably cool Saturday, overcast most of Sunday, and didn’t warm up until Monday afternoon.
Wednesday was a great sports night. And an awful one. I spent most of the night covering a tremendous high school baseball playoff game.1 I got home in time to catch the last out of the Royals' dismal loss to Houston. Losing two of three to the worst team in baseball is not cool. At all. Especially when they blew another great start by James Shields. The next two weeks will likely determine the Royals' fate this season.
It was a busy, hectic weekend dominated by C.’s seventh birthday. Actually, I should say C.’s birthday was the anchor to which the weekend was attached, because we were so busy her big day seemed to pass rather quickly. It was kind of a reserved birthday in terms of gifts. We just got her a few small things, as she had already received her big present last month: we cleared out our guest room, got some new sheets, moved a few things around, and turned it into C.
I have been out covering spring sports the last two nights. Tuesday I caught a county tournament baseball game, which was a scintillating 15-0, five inning win. Last night I had a first round girls tennis sectional match, which was a 5-0 wipeout. But I’m not complaining. It was dry and warm both days, which has been unusual for this spring. When I got home last night everyone was already in bed, so I flipped around and came across the Marcus Dupree 30 For 30, The Greatest That Never Was.
I kept thinking there was a shot, even if small. I’m not going to try to convince you that I believed Andrew Wiggins, the top high school basketball player in the country, was going to pick KU over Kentucky, North Carolina, and Florida State. I had thought for a long time he would make the easiest decision and go to Florida State, where his parents went to school. Still, I thought KU had a shot.
Turns out there may be more to Tiger Woods' return to prominence than anyone initially believed. There was Dropgate at the Masters. He may or may not have taken another incorrect drop while winning the Player’s Championship this past weekend. And now at least one marshall who was with Tiger Saturday is countering Woods' claim that he was given an all clear when he grabbed his club and, allegedly, distracted Sergio Garcia as he took a swing.
It’s bike ridin' season, finally. We hope the weather will stay warm and there will be many days of riding ahead of us. The forecast does show temps dipping into the 30s this weekend, so you never know in 2013. But anyway, it was time to make some moves with the girls. M.’s knees were hitting the handlebars on her old bike. Thus she got an early birthday present of a new bike last Saturday.
There are some soccer fans amongst my regular readers, so that gives me freedom to write about the massive news from Manchester: Sir Alex Ferguson is retiring as manager of Manchester United. I hate ManU, and by association, I hate Sir Alex. I came by my hate honestly. When I was first discovering European soccer in 1994-5, ManU star Eric Cantona took his infamous flying kick at a. That’s all I needed to put the Red Devils in the hate column and they’ve been there ever since.
I’ve been working on this post for several days. At one point, I had a coherent central theme to write around. Unfortunately I was in the shower or at Target or doing some other thing where I could only think about it rather than enter the words into a text application. Thus, I fear, it’s turned into a hot mess. Anyway, some thoughts on who should be eligible to declare for the NBA draft.
Gone Girl - Gillian Flynn. I figure a lot of you have read this, or have plans to. Flynn is arguably the master of popular fiction right now. She writes fantastic stories that get great reviews and sell a lot. So I'll take this is another direction. I admit I became a fan of Flynn because of her biography. She is a Kansas City native and University of Kansas graduate.
Catching up on some sports stories. I had a chance to cover a big high school sports milestone last week, but weather kept me from doing it. The coach of one of the softball teams we cover was on the verge of his 600th career win, the most in state history. Twice I had assignments to cover the big win, and twice it poured and rained the games out. He got the win on Friday while I was at the girls' soccer practices.
We had a lovely, leisurely Monday, so I still need to catch you up from our busy weekend. The highlight was M.’s First Communion. Like I’m guessing about 95% of her classmates, I don’t think the religious ramifications of the event registered with her completely. She was far more concerned with her dress, veil, tiara, and first pair of heels than getting closer to Jesus. So much for those months of preparation, I guess.
Ready Player One - Ernest Cline. I have a weird fascination with what I’ll call, in very broad terms, fantasy games. In that I include fantasy sports, traditional desktop role playing games, and online RPGs. I say fascination because I love the idea of creating an alternate world where we are in control of characters and teams. But when it comes to the execution of the game, I lose interest. Drafting a fantasy baseball team is fun.
I guess it’s time to write about baseball. The Royals are in first place and begin a series with division favorites Detroit tonight.1 In years past this would be a moment for celebration and excitement. “Can they keep it going?” “Is this real?” Fun questions that present themselves as the first month of the season winds down and the standings begin to take shape. The hopeful fan looks at this year’s team and thinks, “The pitching has been great.
It is not often I post to Facebook, but last Friday I did. And my post elicited some questions. So, for those of you who are Facebook friends, saw the post, and wondered what was up, here’s the explanation. First, my post: Nothing says "Thanks for having us over" like your kid puking on the dinner table. So what happened was, after our weekly soccer practices, we went to our neighbors' home for dinner.
I can finally share the news I’ve been alluding to for over a month. I mentioned last week that something was changing in our house. And when we went to Florida for spring break I said we had a series of circumstances that made it seem like it was the perfect year to go. Well, here’s why. S. starts a new job today.1 After ten years as a pediatric hospitalist at St.
Zazen - Vanessa V. File this under books I’ve wanted to read for several years, and when I finally did, was disappointed. Zazen takes place in the near future, with the world on the verge of a mysterious war. People are fleeing the United States as war approaches and energy and individual liberties are severely rationed. Those who remain face daily bombings by various groups looking to either destabilize the existing power structure, or just scare the crap out of people.
So, it’s been a while. Stuff has happened. Good and bad. Interesting and banal. Personal and global. So let’s get caught up. First, Boston. Ugh. I’ll just restate a terrific thing I read on Twitter Monday afternoon: never forget that there are far more people in this world like those who ran to the explosion sites to help than there are people who do things like this. That doesn’t mean if we all hold hands and think positive thoughts bad things won’t happen.
I’m sure you’re all wondering, so here’s your daily B. Girl health update. M. got sick in bed again last night. Fortunately, since she ate almost nothing yesterday, it was a quick clean-up. She stayed home again and has been alternately snoozing and moaning on the couch. C. went back to school yesterday, and acted fine when she got home. But she seemed to hit a wall around dinner time and claimed a spot on the couch she barely moved from until bedtime.
No, I’m not talking about the state of Kentucky claiming its second-straight national title last night. I didn’t watch the game. Basketball is a stupid sport.1 Rather, I’m talking about M. making it two-straight nights that a B. girl puked. She kept it in her bed, thankfully, so I won’t spend the day cleaning the carpet. I, somehow, slept through it all,2 and didn’t know until S. told me this morning.