The pitch came on the rise, probably around 60-70 miles per hour. The batter, though, was focused, dug in and started to bring his hips around. His shoulders followed and the swing brought his hands through to rip one straight for the hole between second base and the second baseman.
Shortstop was idle. On the balls of his feet and prepared to go in any direction... quickly, he had his glove up, eyes up and spirits up.
The second baseman broke for the ball and made the stop. Shortstop, as well as the base runner on first, had already made their break for the second base bag. A quick toss from the second baseman sent the ball floating somewhere above second base rather than sailing into center field.
The shortstop deftly stepped behind the bag while catching the ball, drug his foot across it and fired it back to first and never broke stride.
Two down. Inning's over.
Sounds like a routine double play for any shortstop. Although, they make it look much easier than it is. But this wasn't just any shortstop playing ball. It was my Dad. And he's 57 years old.
Every time I tell a buddy that Dad had a game, they're incredulous. Hell most of them have been telling me that they're too old to keep playing and most of them are in their thirties.
Morgan's refusal to slowdown is becoming somewhat of a local legend. He has friends he grew up playing baseball with that go to the park to watch their boys play against Morgan. And you should hear the trash talk flyin'. ;)
He watched me play ball all the way through high school. But my days in Little League came rushing at me while I sat in the stands last Sunday morning.
Oh, how our perspective changes. I can't begin to count how many games my Dad and I spent in the reverse roll - him sitting in the stands hoping that the double play goes smoothly and me busting my rear trying to turn it. It was about time I was on the other side - paying back some of the support he had offered me so many times before.
That field was covered with men who truly - truly - understood and appreciated the game.
Little Leaguers are just figuring out the importance of winning. The group that I had the privilege of watching... was just starting to forget.
Somewhere in the middle we get focused on the wrong parts of life. Take a deep breath. Enjoy the game.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
God Sucks?
Sometimes life throws things at us that we aren't even close to being ready for. They're seemingly out of the blue, or left field, or nowhere... Or out of wherever life's temptations, trials and tribulations come from.
Mellow Yellow was two years old. He could turn around pretty good, he loved to stop and he was gentle, gentle, gentle. You could already heel steers on him out of the box. And head steers and log them off while pen roping. This all sounds like alot for a two-year-old - It is. He was smart. He learned everything the first time and didn't forget much of anything. He was just easy. He was laid back. He was Mellow. He died August 27, 2009.
This is Iceman. His real name is Pay Days Mr Quincy. He was a five year old stallion that was just getting finished up as a calf roping horse. He was solid. He was a statue in the box, ran to the hole every trip and man he could really stop. He stopped so smooth that sometimes you couldn't even tell if he was stopping yet... and then he got to the end of his stop and you knew it, quick. He was just taking the chance to show off a little bit until it was time to bring everything to a screeching halt. He won third in the Open Calf Roping at the very first show he was ever entered. In his second show, he won it. He died September 4, 2009.
Barely one week apart the only two stallions in training here were gone. And horses here don't get to continue being stallions unless they're just a little bit different than most nice horses. These guys were special. Their temperament, appearance, and ability set them apart. So what the hell is the deal?
Sometime between the fourth and fifth of September, so just a day or two ago, Barbie opened her chest up while turned out. I've walked the pasture three times and can't find the place where it happened. It should be pretty obvious since her injury is extensive. Luckily, the vet got her sown up very well and she should be just fine. But that's not what concerns me. What concerns me is Who's next?.
Fr. Ed delivered a message a while back that reminded us that we need to seek a more personal relationship with Our Lord Jesus Christ. During this message he talked about being angry with Him. Anger towards God is not condemnable, it's completely normal behavior for any healthy relationship he said.
Well, then right now I'm pretty damn normal. I was furious. Anger consumed me. The expertise behind the recommendations for the feed we chose, the resources my family utilized to keep these horses in training, the time I spent with these horses everyday, the majesty that these animals project and respect that they deserve... meant nothing. The injured filly will hopefully be back in action soon, but two - in one week - left us and will never be seen again. What the hell kind of purpose, meaning, lessons, etc. can you garner from that?
I'll admit it. I wanted to title this post "God Sucks!" rather than God Sucks?, but you know what, God is the only pure thing we can find. It's not our job to understand. I'll repeat that, because I'm still working to wrap my head around it. It's not our job to understand.
He was impressive to say the least. He was unlike any other. He was steady, always. His demeanor never ceased to amaze me, regardless of others you put around him. And now he's dead. This is no longer about horses. It's Christ. God lost his only son. Does that mean God sucks? How could it? I can not even start to imagine that kind of pain. Surely if it weren't necessary, it would not have happened. I am beginning to appreciate the fact that God does not create situations so much as He utilizes those situations. His purpose requires certain things that we will never understand, but we aren't expected to.
We were created in God's image. God is a worker. We are created to be active. And God blessed each and every one of us with passions and talents for certain things in order to guide us in choosing what it is that will be blessed by our actions. So we are expected to persevere. To Love. To Work. To Connect. To Continue.
Life is rarely warm and fuzzy. And sometimes it hurts... alot, and is utterly unexplainable. But that simply means that sometimes life's circumstances suck. God does not. Rest peacefully knowing that it's OK to be angry with Him. Then, take a deep breath and instead of asking Why? ask What's Next?.
Mellow Yellow was two years old. He could turn around pretty good, he loved to stop and he was gentle, gentle, gentle. You could already heel steers on him out of the box. And head steers and log them off while pen roping. This all sounds like alot for a two-year-old - It is. He was smart. He learned everything the first time and didn't forget much of anything. He was just easy. He was laid back. He was Mellow. He died August 27, 2009.
This is Iceman. His real name is Pay Days Mr Quincy. He was a five year old stallion that was just getting finished up as a calf roping horse. He was solid. He was a statue in the box, ran to the hole every trip and man he could really stop. He stopped so smooth that sometimes you couldn't even tell if he was stopping yet... and then he got to the end of his stop and you knew it, quick. He was just taking the chance to show off a little bit until it was time to bring everything to a screeching halt. He won third in the Open Calf Roping at the very first show he was ever entered. In his second show, he won it. He died September 4, 2009.
Barely one week apart the only two stallions in training here were gone. And horses here don't get to continue being stallions unless they're just a little bit different than most nice horses. These guys were special. Their temperament, appearance, and ability set them apart. So what the hell is the deal?
Sometime between the fourth and fifth of September, so just a day or two ago, Barbie opened her chest up while turned out. I've walked the pasture three times and can't find the place where it happened. It should be pretty obvious since her injury is extensive. Luckily, the vet got her sown up very well and she should be just fine. But that's not what concerns me. What concerns me is Who's next?.
Fr. Ed delivered a message a while back that reminded us that we need to seek a more personal relationship with Our Lord Jesus Christ. During this message he talked about being angry with Him. Anger towards God is not condemnable, it's completely normal behavior for any healthy relationship he said.
Well, then right now I'm pretty damn normal. I was furious. Anger consumed me. The expertise behind the recommendations for the feed we chose, the resources my family utilized to keep these horses in training, the time I spent with these horses everyday, the majesty that these animals project and respect that they deserve... meant nothing. The injured filly will hopefully be back in action soon, but two - in one week - left us and will never be seen again. What the hell kind of purpose, meaning, lessons, etc. can you garner from that?
I'll admit it. I wanted to title this post "God Sucks!" rather than God Sucks?, but you know what, God is the only pure thing we can find. It's not our job to understand. I'll repeat that, because I'm still working to wrap my head around it. It's not our job to understand.
He was impressive to say the least. He was unlike any other. He was steady, always. His demeanor never ceased to amaze me, regardless of others you put around him. And now he's dead. This is no longer about horses. It's Christ. God lost his only son. Does that mean God sucks? How could it? I can not even start to imagine that kind of pain. Surely if it weren't necessary, it would not have happened. I am beginning to appreciate the fact that God does not create situations so much as He utilizes those situations. His purpose requires certain things that we will never understand, but we aren't expected to.
We were created in God's image. God is a worker. We are created to be active. And God blessed each and every one of us with passions and talents for certain things in order to guide us in choosing what it is that will be blessed by our actions. So we are expected to persevere. To Love. To Work. To Connect. To Continue.
Life is rarely warm and fuzzy. And sometimes it hurts... alot, and is utterly unexplainable. But that simply means that sometimes life's circumstances suck. God does not. Rest peacefully knowing that it's OK to be angry with Him. Then, take a deep breath and instead of asking Why? ask What's Next?.
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