Friday, 12 October 2012
Discipline
“Have nothing to do with godless myths and old wives tales; rather, train yourself to be godly. For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.” - 1 Timothy 4:7-8
I know what physical training involves: time, commitment, and sacrifice. Not to mention injury, pain, and occasional moments of depression that it’s not going as well as you thought it would or think it should. It’s grueling. Especially when you try to jump right in, as I did.
I spent a whole year thinking my soccer dream had died when God just wanted me to take a break; and while I was physically active over the summer with baseball and farm work, I certainly had no real physical training. I didn’t strain myself much, didn’t test myself, and I certainly didn’t watch what I ate - I couldn’t really care less at the time. I was hungry and wanted some quick and easy food so I grabbed a couple cookies, or I was tired and felt like relaxing with a beer and a ballgame on TV, or I drank a cold pop because I was hot and thirsty.
So imagine the idiocy it must have taken to say ‘yes’ when Redeemer soccer came calling. I was probably ten pounds overweight (not that much, I know, but still), my drink of choice over the summer was a dead split between a bottle of water and a bottle of beer, and to top it off, I have never -ever - been a good endurance-based athlete. Even as a kid, I had trouble with long distances, and that doesn’t really change all that much unless you work on it growing up - which I didn’t, obviously.
Thank goodness you’re a goalkeeper, right, Cam?
I’m just going to take a minute here.
*maniacal laughter*
Ok. Back to it.
Yes, in a game, I will probably never run more than 18 yards at a time, and that about 10-20 times per game. Yes, we played a grand total of 8 games. Yes, I was intended to be the backup for all 8 of those games, meaning I would play less than every member on the team except the two coaches. In fact, the chances of me playing at all during those 8 games was about 2.3%. But none of that actually factors into being a backup goalkeeper.
The point of being a part of the team is that when the team needs you, you step up. That requires both mental focus and physical preparedness. I had the former, but the latter had left a little while ago. If people got a chuckle out of the first-year players not being completely prepared for the first grueling week after tryouts (which I didn’t even attend, so it was like skipping the frying pan and jumping straight into the fire), they would have been in absolute stitches at the sight of me. We ran fitness evaluations the first Thursday of classes, and all I could do afterwards was kneel in front of the toilet and wait for the inevitable expulsion of my stomach contents - and I had only made it through about two-thirds of the testing at significantly lower levels than my teammates; none of them had even come close to throwing up. Imagine what that’ll do for a guy’s self-confidence.
I listed three things that physical training involves that aren’t so cool: pain, injury, and the occasional bouts of depression when it’s not going so well. That was the third. In fact, that whole week was the third. In addition to my appalling lack of physical conditioning, other things that could make or break me as a goalkeeper just were not there: my goal kicks were awful - more often than not, I would flub it and put it right on the foot of one of the attacking players; my reads on incoming crosses left me out of position more often than not, and I was having trouble hanging on to shots and as a result, giving out juicier rebounds than Vesa Toskala. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to be a worse goalie than Vesa Toskala?
Actually, that entire week was the first one as well - pain. I was expecting it going in, of course, but I wasn’t ready for the seemingly unending cramped muscles, mistimed landings, and brutally hard shots missing my hands and hitting me in other areas of the body. Oh, and the diving. That’s pretty important. And also hard on the body. Hit the ground at full force, your entire body stretched out and taking the blow, pick yourself up, take about three seconds to get set, and do it again. And again. And again, until the other guy has recovered from his own time in the net and can take his turn. I would stagger through the door and collapse into the couch on a nightly basis, drained of everything but exhaustion.
And I’m not allowed, for about a month, to let any of this show. That’s probably the worst part - I had no outlet for my frustration or my exhaustion except for the soccer balls coming my way on a daily basis, and even those usually only served to increase my frustration, and by extension, my exhaustion.
Remember how I said earlier that my long-distance running stank? Well, our coach liked making the team run if we weren’t performing. And quite often, as you’d expect from an 0-8 team, we weren’t performing very well in practice. So we ran a lot in that first week. We probably averaged about one suicide a practice, and I don’t mean half-and-back, full-and back. We went to the six-yard box and back, then to the 18 and back, then halfway to midfield and back, then to half and back... then repeat those same lines, but on the other side of the field. Plus one last full length of the field - and back - for good measure. Brutal. I routinely finished well behind everyone else (and I mean well behind: I’d be halfway to the other 18 yard box and half the team would be finished with the other half on their way back from the full length run) which was about as confidence-building as a kick in the groin. And let’s not forget, my muscles were cramping, my breath was coming in gasping wheezes, and everyone’s waiting for - you guessed it - me.
I spent the entire year going home completely gassed after every practice. It was like my own personal torture that I was subjected to five times a week plus weekend game days. But it got easier. My body started to respond better to the training, my technical abilities were becoming sharper, and I was only 90% drained instead of 100%. Small victories. But I kept showing up, kept putting in the time, and it got easier. I trained myself to play through pain and to keep myself emotionally stable even when it wasn’t going so well.
Humility check: that physical training, the hellish first week, the 0-8 finish, even the fact that I got into six games despite the fact I was never supposed to step on a field: that is only of ‘some’ value. Translation - not much.
Ha. Well, there goes any semblance of puffed-up-ness.
I’m not saying that I just spent a month on something with not much value, because there was more to what I did than just the physical training and the gameplay. But there are parallels here to my story and the verse I started off with. I’ll walk through it with you.
“Have nothing to do with godless myths and old wives’ tales...”
Godless myths? Old wives’ tales? What is Paul talking about here?
At that time, one of the biggest problems Timothy would have had to deal with was teaching contrary to the Word. So let’s roll with that. “Have nothing to do with things contrary to the Word.” Is that acceptable?
I’m going to assume by your silence that it is.
Ok. Let’s draw an analogy from my physically demanding month. In order for me to have been able to train and perform to my fullest ability and potential, I needed to eat and drink properly. No midnight bags of chips, no cans of pop, keep the beer to maybe one per week, and stay away from the ice cream. Eat healthy, keep an eye on the nutrition labels, and make sure that the food you’re eating today will have benefits tomorrow.
The same applies here. In order for you and me to fill our spiritual potential, we need to ‘feed,’ as it were, ourselves accordingly. And that means cutting ourselves off from things that have no place in our lives - cut the lying, cut the disrespect, cut the cursing, and keep away from things that tempt you. Make sure that what you do today will benefit you, or perhaps others, tomorrow.
“...rather, train yourself to be godly. For physical training is of some value...”
No good thing comes easy, we know that. What we usually don’t know is what each good thing is going to cost us to obtain and maintain. I know that my physically draining month will do me good, but even that will fade. Joints will creak, muscles will deteriorate, and I simply will not be the athlete I used to be.
“but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for this life and the life to come.”
Godliness does not fade. Godliness has no end, assuming you properly maintain it. The cost is never too high. Trust me.
It is not going to be easy. Much like that first week of soccer I had to endure, it is going to involve pain. It is going to involve a few hits to your self-confidence, and sometimes you are going to wonder if you can keep going and if you’re ever going to be at the level you need to be.
These three things hold true here as well: Time. Commitment. Sacrifice. These three words can be summarized in one word: discipline.
Discipline yourself. Keep going. The reward is more than you know.
Thursday, 9 February 2012
On Tim Thomas, Opinions and Role Models
What a month for Tim Thomas. I don't think an NHL goaltender has had a more tumultuous month since Roberto Luongo collapsed in the playoffs.
First. he declines a visit to the White House and a meet-and-greet with President Barack Obama - an annual reward for the team that wins the Stanley Cup - because he feels that the American government has become too powerful and is threatening the rights of its citizens. He posts this message to his Facebook account after telling the world that Facebook was the medium through which he was going to release that message. He then goes and plays in the All-Star Game, goes through a mini-goalie controversy because of the stellar play of his backup goalie, former Leaf prospect Tuukka Rask (*slams head into desk*); however, that's all resolved and everything seems to go back to normal.
Then, the government passed a law that could force religious institutions to start covering birth control meds in their coverage plans. The Catholic church in particular didn't like that, and Tim Thomas decided to post - on Facebook, through which he already had released a controversial message - that he stood with the church on this issue.
The media asked him about this today, and he decided to say nothing.
Wait, what?
All he's been doing is talking about stuff, and now he wants to clam up?
Apparently. He told reporters that he wasn't going to talk about this statement, saying that he would 'plead the Fifth' - by which I'm assuming that he's using his right to remain silent - and repeatedly refusing to answer questions, calling Facebook his 'personal life,' and saying it had nothing to do with his occupation.
I'm confused, Tim; really, I am. You're directing people to your Facebook page when you have something to say about government policies, but when you're asked about your extremely inflammatory opinions, you refuse to talk about it? Why?
"[Hockey] is my job. Facebook is my personal life, that's why. If you guys (the media) don't understand the difference between an individual and what they do as a job, or an athlete and his personal life, then I think there's a problem. I don't think that when you become an athlete you sign away your right to be an individual and to have your own views, and to be able to post them on Facebook if you like."
It's a legitimate answer. Tim Thomas is certainly free to have an opinion, he is free to post his opinions on Facebook, and he is free to talk about them - or not talk about them, as the case may be.
However, I don't think it's a good answer. Tim Thomas, whether he likes it or not, is a role model for many people - kids and older ones alike. People look up to him, he's a public figure, and he commands attention - more so now that he's a Stanley Cup champion and a playoff MVP. Yes, he's free to have opinions, but when your every move is in the public eye - especially now in the Twitter age - you should be able to defend your opinion, in whatever venue it's challenged in. I understand where he's coming from - he's in the dressing room, so he wants to talk about hockey - but when you say something that inflammatory, you should have a reason for it and you should be able to defend it. That's how you keep the respect you've earned as a role model.
This applies to every role model, whether a professional athlete, or a working-class father, or any life situation where you have someone who looks up to you. I'm an older brother to my two siblings, and while we bicker and argue a lot, we have a great deal of respect for each other. As we've gotten older, I've tried to be a good role model for both of them - I haven't been successful all the time, but I've tried. There are other areas of life where I try to be a good role model: when I'm with friends, when I'm playing with my five-year-old cousin, when I'm at church interacting with kids who are younger than me, and in the upcoming opportunity I've now received to speak at a youth retreat in Ancaster next week Saturday.
I'm definitely not as prominent of a role model as Tim Thomas. I'm the guy who wasn't even good enough to be a third-string goalie on Redeemer's soccer team, remember? However, the same rules apply to me. I never forfeited the right to have a personal life, but my personal life is under scrutiny every day. The last thing I want is for people who look up to me be led astray by things I do in my personal life that are not consistent with how I act in public. In that light, I need to be able to give a reason for everything I do. I need to be able to defend the things I believe in. I need to lead by example.
And all this brings me to I Peter 3:15. The NIV translates it this way: "Always be prepared to give the reason for the hope that you have." Being a good role model, as a Christian, involves being ready at all times to defend the reason for your faith. There's no two ways around this one.
Thankfully, we have a template to go by. The NLT version gives is this verse: "We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honour beside God's throne." Hebrews 12:2. Jesus Christ was the ultimate role model. He lived his whole life in the public eye. He defended his extremely inflammatory statements. He faced all sorts of criticism, slander, and he had more opportunities than anyone to say something or do something that was immoral or indefensible. But he didn't. He's the role model for all Christians: the role model of role models, if you will.
So if I have anything at all to say in this post, it's this: be like Jesus at all times. He's your role model, y'know.
First. he declines a visit to the White House and a meet-and-greet with President Barack Obama - an annual reward for the team that wins the Stanley Cup - because he feels that the American government has become too powerful and is threatening the rights of its citizens. He posts this message to his Facebook account after telling the world that Facebook was the medium through which he was going to release that message. He then goes and plays in the All-Star Game, goes through a mini-goalie controversy because of the stellar play of his backup goalie, former Leaf prospect Tuukka Rask (*slams head into desk*); however, that's all resolved and everything seems to go back to normal.
Then, the government passed a law that could force religious institutions to start covering birth control meds in their coverage plans. The Catholic church in particular didn't like that, and Tim Thomas decided to post - on Facebook, through which he already had released a controversial message - that he stood with the church on this issue.
The media asked him about this today, and he decided to say nothing.
Wait, what?
All he's been doing is talking about stuff, and now he wants to clam up?
Apparently. He told reporters that he wasn't going to talk about this statement, saying that he would 'plead the Fifth' - by which I'm assuming that he's using his right to remain silent - and repeatedly refusing to answer questions, calling Facebook his 'personal life,' and saying it had nothing to do with his occupation.
I'm confused, Tim; really, I am. You're directing people to your Facebook page when you have something to say about government policies, but when you're asked about your extremely inflammatory opinions, you refuse to talk about it? Why?
"[Hockey] is my job. Facebook is my personal life, that's why. If you guys (the media) don't understand the difference between an individual and what they do as a job, or an athlete and his personal life, then I think there's a problem. I don't think that when you become an athlete you sign away your right to be an individual and to have your own views, and to be able to post them on Facebook if you like."
It's a legitimate answer. Tim Thomas is certainly free to have an opinion, he is free to post his opinions on Facebook, and he is free to talk about them - or not talk about them, as the case may be.
However, I don't think it's a good answer. Tim Thomas, whether he likes it or not, is a role model for many people - kids and older ones alike. People look up to him, he's a public figure, and he commands attention - more so now that he's a Stanley Cup champion and a playoff MVP. Yes, he's free to have opinions, but when your every move is in the public eye - especially now in the Twitter age - you should be able to defend your opinion, in whatever venue it's challenged in. I understand where he's coming from - he's in the dressing room, so he wants to talk about hockey - but when you say something that inflammatory, you should have a reason for it and you should be able to defend it. That's how you keep the respect you've earned as a role model.
This applies to every role model, whether a professional athlete, or a working-class father, or any life situation where you have someone who looks up to you. I'm an older brother to my two siblings, and while we bicker and argue a lot, we have a great deal of respect for each other. As we've gotten older, I've tried to be a good role model for both of them - I haven't been successful all the time, but I've tried. There are other areas of life where I try to be a good role model: when I'm with friends, when I'm playing with my five-year-old cousin, when I'm at church interacting with kids who are younger than me, and in the upcoming opportunity I've now received to speak at a youth retreat in Ancaster next week Saturday.
I'm definitely not as prominent of a role model as Tim Thomas. I'm the guy who wasn't even good enough to be a third-string goalie on Redeemer's soccer team, remember? However, the same rules apply to me. I never forfeited the right to have a personal life, but my personal life is under scrutiny every day. The last thing I want is for people who look up to me be led astray by things I do in my personal life that are not consistent with how I act in public. In that light, I need to be able to give a reason for everything I do. I need to be able to defend the things I believe in. I need to lead by example.
And all this brings me to I Peter 3:15. The NIV translates it this way: "Always be prepared to give the reason for the hope that you have." Being a good role model, as a Christian, involves being ready at all times to defend the reason for your faith. There's no two ways around this one.
Thankfully, we have a template to go by. The NLT version gives is this verse: "We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honour beside God's throne." Hebrews 12:2. Jesus Christ was the ultimate role model. He lived his whole life in the public eye. He defended his extremely inflammatory statements. He faced all sorts of criticism, slander, and he had more opportunities than anyone to say something or do something that was immoral or indefensible. But he didn't. He's the role model for all Christians: the role model of role models, if you will.
So if I have anything at all to say in this post, it's this: be like Jesus at all times. He's your role model, y'know.
Monday, 12 September 2011
Priority
It's been a very difficult week for me. As my housemate so eloquently put it, "Your week's been a load of [expletive] [expletive]." Moving into my residence, about a 20 minute bike ride from Redeemer University College, checking in, that's all normal. And yet, I'm so unbelievably tired as I write this. If I wasn't watching a movie with company over at the moment, I'd go to bed. Part of it is that it's one in the morning. But the largest part of my exhaustion is the result of a grueling week of soccer tryouts.
I was so excited by the prospect of playing for Redeemer for a third year. So excited to play again that I fought through a twisted ankle, a damaged rotator cuff, heat, rain, and turf burn. And the coaches decided that I was no longer in their plans. I was cut.
I've been cut before, so it's not like I've never been disappointed by a sports team. This one cut deep though. I spent weeks preparing myself mentally for this season. I skipped family camping and missed my cousin's birthday. I gave everything I could. And it wasn't enough.
I'm definitely disappointed. I feel like I missed a lot, just to spend a week figuring out I wasn't good enough. All I got out of it was a weak ankle, a very sore shoulder, and no roster spot. Oh, and this post.
Where were my priorities before and after? I can say now that soccer was always high on the list. Definitely higher than my school work, and maybe even higher than relationships with some or all of my friends. That has changed now. I have time now for school, time to strengthen relationships, and time especially to cement my relationship with God. Still, I can't help feeling that now I've missed so many things - that not only have I wasted a week, but I've wasted two years of my life sitting on the bench, playing occasionally. Two years of sitting down, letting in goals, making some saves, and fighting through, at the very least my fair share of injuries, and at the most my own and someone else's. What have I missed all that time? How much time did I waste trying to reach a goal that I'll never attain now? How many times could I have made a real difference in someone's life and just passed them by becasue I was too focused on getting between the pipes to notice?
How much time have I spent away from God while trying to be a better goalie? As someone who is majoring in Religion and Theology, someone who hopes to attend seminary when I graduate, I can absolutely say that my neither my head nor my heart were tuned in to God when I was playing or practicing. I'm competitive to a fault, and with that comes a little bit too much intensity. I swore like a drunk sailor when I was on the field. It was one of the few places where I was ever openly angry; anger was not only directed at my opponents, but at the officials, myself, and sometimes even my teammates - although to be fair, I was mostly angry at myself for not meeting the goals I set for myself, and wouldn't take that out on anyone else.
Thankfully, it's the first week of school, so I can do some learning. Taking this forced step back from the game I invested so much in has helped me to see where I've gone wrong - my priorities. I did not put God first. I put my dream of being Redeemer's starting goalie first. That dream has died. It hasn't been put on hold; I won't be coming back. You could say I'm announcing my retirement. It had to happen sooner or later, and while I would rather have had it end on my terms, I can settle for this.
So what do I take from this other than a difficult lesson? A Bible passage that I've been reading almost my whole life - a passage which has a meaning I never really fully comprehended until now: "Seek first the Kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you." (Matthew 6:33)
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm thankful for the time I spent on the team. I was proud to be a Royal, even if my throne was the bench. But now, without that taking up all my evenings, I can see a little more clearly now. I'm able to focus more on the things that are really important to me - my relationships with God, friends, and family; my studies, and the quality time I can spend enhancing all of these things.
I just want to encourage all of you who read this to step back from your lives and take a hard look at the things that are biggest in your life. If your priorities don't involve God being on the top, then shift them. If you place yourself above your fellow human beings, then shift them. It's not easy to do this, and it might take a heavenly slap in the face like I got. But you will be better for it in the end.
I was so excited by the prospect of playing for Redeemer for a third year. So excited to play again that I fought through a twisted ankle, a damaged rotator cuff, heat, rain, and turf burn. And the coaches decided that I was no longer in their plans. I was cut.
I've been cut before, so it's not like I've never been disappointed by a sports team. This one cut deep though. I spent weeks preparing myself mentally for this season. I skipped family camping and missed my cousin's birthday. I gave everything I could. And it wasn't enough.
I'm definitely disappointed. I feel like I missed a lot, just to spend a week figuring out I wasn't good enough. All I got out of it was a weak ankle, a very sore shoulder, and no roster spot. Oh, and this post.
Where were my priorities before and after? I can say now that soccer was always high on the list. Definitely higher than my school work, and maybe even higher than relationships with some or all of my friends. That has changed now. I have time now for school, time to strengthen relationships, and time especially to cement my relationship with God. Still, I can't help feeling that now I've missed so many things - that not only have I wasted a week, but I've wasted two years of my life sitting on the bench, playing occasionally. Two years of sitting down, letting in goals, making some saves, and fighting through, at the very least my fair share of injuries, and at the most my own and someone else's. What have I missed all that time? How much time did I waste trying to reach a goal that I'll never attain now? How many times could I have made a real difference in someone's life and just passed them by becasue I was too focused on getting between the pipes to notice?
How much time have I spent away from God while trying to be a better goalie? As someone who is majoring in Religion and Theology, someone who hopes to attend seminary when I graduate, I can absolutely say that my neither my head nor my heart were tuned in to God when I was playing or practicing. I'm competitive to a fault, and with that comes a little bit too much intensity. I swore like a drunk sailor when I was on the field. It was one of the few places where I was ever openly angry; anger was not only directed at my opponents, but at the officials, myself, and sometimes even my teammates - although to be fair, I was mostly angry at myself for not meeting the goals I set for myself, and wouldn't take that out on anyone else.
Thankfully, it's the first week of school, so I can do some learning. Taking this forced step back from the game I invested so much in has helped me to see where I've gone wrong - my priorities. I did not put God first. I put my dream of being Redeemer's starting goalie first. That dream has died. It hasn't been put on hold; I won't be coming back. You could say I'm announcing my retirement. It had to happen sooner or later, and while I would rather have had it end on my terms, I can settle for this.
So what do I take from this other than a difficult lesson? A Bible passage that I've been reading almost my whole life - a passage which has a meaning I never really fully comprehended until now: "Seek first the Kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you." (Matthew 6:33)
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm thankful for the time I spent on the team. I was proud to be a Royal, even if my throne was the bench. But now, without that taking up all my evenings, I can see a little more clearly now. I'm able to focus more on the things that are really important to me - my relationships with God, friends, and family; my studies, and the quality time I can spend enhancing all of these things.
I just want to encourage all of you who read this to step back from your lives and take a hard look at the things that are biggest in your life. If your priorities don't involve God being on the top, then shift them. If you place yourself above your fellow human beings, then shift them. It's not easy to do this, and it might take a heavenly slap in the face like I got. But you will be better for it in the end.
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
A little more lighthearted...Vin Mazzaro's Song.
I don't know how many of you follow baseball at all, but even if you don't, you may have heard about the historically bad outing by Vin Mazzaro of the Kansas City Royals. If you haven't, here's your rundown:
In their game Monday against the Cleveland Indians, starter Kyle Davies got one out in the first inning, loaded the bases, and left with a sore shoulder. Nate Adcock came in and lasted until the top of the third inning, when he walked Indians catcher Carlos Santana. Then Mazzaro came on. He finished the third without incident.
Then the fourth destroyed him.
First baseman Matt LaPorta singled, then was erased in a fielder's choice (for my non-baseball friends, that's when a batter hits the ball with a runner on first; the runner on first goes to second and is thrown out, but the batter heading to first is safe, preventing a double play). So it doesn't look so bad at this point: a runner on first and one out. Micheal Brantley followed with a walk to put runners on first and second, then Asdrubal Cabrera singled. Jack Hannahan, who had grounded into the fielder's choice and was on second, scored. Shin-Soo Choo then flew out to deep center field, but Brantley tagged up and moved to third. 1 in, 2 on, 2 out. Cabrera then stole second, but it didn't matter as the next batter, Santana, drew his second walk. Bases loaded, 1 out. Travis Hafner didn't keep the bases loaded for long, hitting a double which knocked in all three runners. 4 runs in, runner on second, 2 out. Orlando Cabrera followed up with a single to score Hafner. That's five runs in now, with a runner on and still 2 out. Still a chance to get out of it. Nope. Travis Buck hit an infield single to the shortstop to put runners on first and second. Then LaPorta came up again. He hit a double, scoring both Buck and O. Cabrera. Hannahan followed with a single to right, putting two runners on base. Again. This time, Brantley hit a home run to deep center field. 10 runs. Still 2 out. Finally, mercifully, A. Cabrera struck out to end it.
How bad was that one inning? Every hitter got on base at least once except for Choo. In fact, Choo and Santana were the only ones without a base hit. LaPorta had two hits in the inning, Brantley reached base with the walk and the homer.
The worst part? Manager Ned Yost made Mazzaro go out for the fifth. IT'S 13-1. WHY LEAVE HIM TO SUFFER?
Anyway... the fifth was mercifully shorter. Mazzaro got Choo to fly out to left field, but then melted down again. Santana doubled, Hafner walked, and O. Cabrera singled. Bases loaded, 1 out. Sound familiar? Well, there wouldn't be a bases clearing double this time up. But Buck did manage a single, which scored Santana. Finally, mercifully, Yost pulled Mazzaro. Of course, his night wasn't officially over. He had put the three runners on base, so if they scored, the runs would be charged to him. Right on cue, LaPorta hit a double, scoring Hafner and Cabrera, and Buck scored on a groundout by Hannahan. 14 runs, 2.1 innings. Kansas City lost, 19-1. Mazzaro was immediately demoted to AAA.
So what would Mazzaro have said after the game? Well, maybe he can sing... so here's a song for him. To the tune of "Make It Stop (September's Children)" by Rise Against:
Woah, woah.
Bang, bang go the batted balls
Over the wall, they're gone forever.
This happened Monday,
Now I'm back in Triple-A
Think back to better days
We pitched the major leagues together
Kyle Davies needs a shoulder
I can't keep doing this
Why can't I just get pulled
My manager's a joke
Please, Ned Yost
Make it stop, let this end
I can't pitch apparently
It's come to this, I can't throw strikes
Losing ballgames, singing
Woah, woah.
Bang bang from LaPorta's bat
He knocked in four, more than my whole team
This pitching is awful
I'm done sucking, take me out
One team, and we're fading fast
Started good, but we suck again
I'm not helping our cause
But Kyle don't do that again.
It's always darkest when you pitch like that
But now I'm in the minors where I belong
Make it stop, let this end
I can't pitch apparently
It's come to this, I can't throw strikes
Losing ballgames, singing
Woah, woah.
My fastball was leaving the park
Faster than it left my hand
My other pitches, well
They just plain sucked
Too many runs have crossed the plate
From the balls I throw,
And the strikes they hit real hard
When will Ned call to the pen?
I need relief, I'm getting creamed
I'm getting smoked, some mercy please?
Some mercy please?
Make it stop, let this end
Mike Brantley raked, Santana was good
Hafner owned, Buck beat throws
Thank goodness I got Choo...
In their game Monday against the Cleveland Indians, starter Kyle Davies got one out in the first inning, loaded the bases, and left with a sore shoulder. Nate Adcock came in and lasted until the top of the third inning, when he walked Indians catcher Carlos Santana. Then Mazzaro came on. He finished the third without incident.
Then the fourth destroyed him.
First baseman Matt LaPorta singled, then was erased in a fielder's choice (for my non-baseball friends, that's when a batter hits the ball with a runner on first; the runner on first goes to second and is thrown out, but the batter heading to first is safe, preventing a double play). So it doesn't look so bad at this point: a runner on first and one out. Micheal Brantley followed with a walk to put runners on first and second, then Asdrubal Cabrera singled. Jack Hannahan, who had grounded into the fielder's choice and was on second, scored. Shin-Soo Choo then flew out to deep center field, but Brantley tagged up and moved to third. 1 in, 2 on, 2 out. Cabrera then stole second, but it didn't matter as the next batter, Santana, drew his second walk. Bases loaded, 1 out. Travis Hafner didn't keep the bases loaded for long, hitting a double which knocked in all three runners. 4 runs in, runner on second, 2 out. Orlando Cabrera followed up with a single to score Hafner. That's five runs in now, with a runner on and still 2 out. Still a chance to get out of it. Nope. Travis Buck hit an infield single to the shortstop to put runners on first and second. Then LaPorta came up again. He hit a double, scoring both Buck and O. Cabrera. Hannahan followed with a single to right, putting two runners on base. Again. This time, Brantley hit a home run to deep center field. 10 runs. Still 2 out. Finally, mercifully, A. Cabrera struck out to end it.
How bad was that one inning? Every hitter got on base at least once except for Choo. In fact, Choo and Santana were the only ones without a base hit. LaPorta had two hits in the inning, Brantley reached base with the walk and the homer.
The worst part? Manager Ned Yost made Mazzaro go out for the fifth. IT'S 13-1. WHY LEAVE HIM TO SUFFER?
Anyway... the fifth was mercifully shorter. Mazzaro got Choo to fly out to left field, but then melted down again. Santana doubled, Hafner walked, and O. Cabrera singled. Bases loaded, 1 out. Sound familiar? Well, there wouldn't be a bases clearing double this time up. But Buck did manage a single, which scored Santana. Finally, mercifully, Yost pulled Mazzaro. Of course, his night wasn't officially over. He had put the three runners on base, so if they scored, the runs would be charged to him. Right on cue, LaPorta hit a double, scoring Hafner and Cabrera, and Buck scored on a groundout by Hannahan. 14 runs, 2.1 innings. Kansas City lost, 19-1. Mazzaro was immediately demoted to AAA.
So what would Mazzaro have said after the game? Well, maybe he can sing... so here's a song for him. To the tune of "Make It Stop (September's Children)" by Rise Against:
Woah, woah.
Bang, bang go the batted balls
Over the wall, they're gone forever.
This happened Monday,
Now I'm back in Triple-A
Think back to better days
We pitched the major leagues together
Kyle Davies needs a shoulder
I can't keep doing this
Why can't I just get pulled
My manager's a joke
Please, Ned Yost
Make it stop, let this end
I can't pitch apparently
It's come to this, I can't throw strikes
Losing ballgames, singing
Woah, woah.
Bang bang from LaPorta's bat
He knocked in four, more than my whole team
This pitching is awful
I'm done sucking, take me out
One team, and we're fading fast
Started good, but we suck again
I'm not helping our cause
But Kyle don't do that again.
It's always darkest when you pitch like that
But now I'm in the minors where I belong
Make it stop, let this end
I can't pitch apparently
It's come to this, I can't throw strikes
Losing ballgames, singing
Woah, woah.
My fastball was leaving the park
Faster than it left my hand
My other pitches, well
They just plain sucked
Too many runs have crossed the plate
From the balls I throw,
And the strikes they hit real hard
When will Ned call to the pen?
I need relief, I'm getting creamed
I'm getting smoked, some mercy please?
Some mercy please?
Make it stop, let this end
Mike Brantley raked, Santana was good
Hafner owned, Buck beat throws
Thank goodness I got Choo...
Saturday, 14 May 2011
Derek Boogaard and Death
My first post. It seems a little depressing to start a blog by talking about death, but that's where my thoughts have been going of late. I can attribute that to the sudden passing of New York Rangers forward Derek Boogaard.
Now I didn't know Derek personally. I watched him on TV (not often, he played in Minnesota for most of his career and the Leafs didn't see them that often). "The Boogeyman," as he was known, was not a star. He could barely skate compared to some of the guys on his team. He could shoot, but he didn't use it that often. His greatest strength was his fighting ability. He went toe-to-toe with the best of them. Laraque, MacIntyre, Ivanans, Belak, Orr, Godard. They all had the same role: to raise hell and get the other team off their game, but also to protect their star players. And Boogaard was one of the best at it. He stood 6'7", making him one of the tallest players to play the game - I can only think of Tyler Myers and Zdeno Chara as player taller than him off the top of my head. He wasn't lanky, though: weighing in at 265 pounds, he had 10 pounds on the man they call 'Big Z' and 40 on the young defenceman Myers. I'm not a small human being, but this guy had five inches and 60 pounds on me.
He had highlight-reel fight after highlight-reel fight. He rarely lost. Fans loved him in Minnesota. Even when he became a free agent and departed for New York, there wasn't a lot of hate there - who wouldn't turn down a job that paid you $6 million over the next four years of your life?
He struggled in New York. He scored one goal, had two assists, and dropped the gloves seven times. He played his last game of the year on December 9, 2010, when Matt Carkner of the Ottawa Senators landed one solid punch to the noggin that gave him a concussion. He also was suffering from a damaged shoulder and would miss the rest of the regular season. Micheal Russo, a reporter for a newspaper in Minneapolis and a friend of Boogaard said that Derek was looking forward to getting back to hockey, back to being a Ranger, back to doing what he did best.
Then yesterday morning, his brothers Ryan and Aaron found Derek dead in his apartment. He was 28.
There is so much that Boogaard did that was good for the communities he lived and played in. But those stories are not mine to share, I'll let others more qualified do so. The one thing I will remember most from his career, however, happened on November 30, 2010. Washington Capitals defenceman Tyler Sloan misplayed the puck at the blue line and Boogaard chased down the puck. He caught up to it at about centre ice, crossed into the Washington zone, and simply wound up and fired the puck. I don't know if Michal Neuvirth ever saw the puck as it went over his right shoulder and into the net. In the ensuing celebration, Boogaard looked so happy - he hadn't scored in four years before that slapper worthy of a player like Shea Weber or even the previously mentioned Chara. Goals were hard to come by for guys like him. But when it did happen, he could cherish those moments.
And that kinda leads into what I want to say about death, or rather, life. We only get one chance at life. We don't get many opportunities to really do something big. So when you do get those opportunities, don't waste them. Don't believe the lie that says 'oh, you'll get another chance at it.' You don't know that. Derek Boogaard had a choice when he scored that goal. His teammate Erik Christensen was wide open on the break, and could have scored had Derek decided to pass it over to him. But Boogaard went for it and he scored.
I'm not saying here that every time you take that chance you are going to do something big. I'm not saying don't ever pass the puck. I'm only saying that you have a finite number of opportunities to be the person God calls you to be.
Don't waste them.
This is your life, are you who you want to be?
This is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be
When the world was younger and you had everything to lose?
-Switchfoot, "This Is Your Life"
Seize the day, or die regretting the time you lost.
-Avenged Sevenfold, "Seize the Day"
Arise and be all that you dreamed, all that you dreamed.
-Flyleaf, "Arise"
I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end, it doesn't even matter
-Linkin Park, "In the End
It's not what you take when you leave this world behind you
It's what you leave behind you when you go.
-Randy Travis, "Three Wooden Crosses"
RIP Derek Boogaard (1982-2011)
Now I didn't know Derek personally. I watched him on TV (not often, he played in Minnesota for most of his career and the Leafs didn't see them that often). "The Boogeyman," as he was known, was not a star. He could barely skate compared to some of the guys on his team. He could shoot, but he didn't use it that often. His greatest strength was his fighting ability. He went toe-to-toe with the best of them. Laraque, MacIntyre, Ivanans, Belak, Orr, Godard. They all had the same role: to raise hell and get the other team off their game, but also to protect their star players. And Boogaard was one of the best at it. He stood 6'7", making him one of the tallest players to play the game - I can only think of Tyler Myers and Zdeno Chara as player taller than him off the top of my head. He wasn't lanky, though: weighing in at 265 pounds, he had 10 pounds on the man they call 'Big Z' and 40 on the young defenceman Myers. I'm not a small human being, but this guy had five inches and 60 pounds on me.
He had highlight-reel fight after highlight-reel fight. He rarely lost. Fans loved him in Minnesota. Even when he became a free agent and departed for New York, there wasn't a lot of hate there - who wouldn't turn down a job that paid you $6 million over the next four years of your life?
He struggled in New York. He scored one goal, had two assists, and dropped the gloves seven times. He played his last game of the year on December 9, 2010, when Matt Carkner of the Ottawa Senators landed one solid punch to the noggin that gave him a concussion. He also was suffering from a damaged shoulder and would miss the rest of the regular season. Micheal Russo, a reporter for a newspaper in Minneapolis and a friend of Boogaard said that Derek was looking forward to getting back to hockey, back to being a Ranger, back to doing what he did best.
Then yesterday morning, his brothers Ryan and Aaron found Derek dead in his apartment. He was 28.
There is so much that Boogaard did that was good for the communities he lived and played in. But those stories are not mine to share, I'll let others more qualified do so. The one thing I will remember most from his career, however, happened on November 30, 2010. Washington Capitals defenceman Tyler Sloan misplayed the puck at the blue line and Boogaard chased down the puck. He caught up to it at about centre ice, crossed into the Washington zone, and simply wound up and fired the puck. I don't know if Michal Neuvirth ever saw the puck as it went over his right shoulder and into the net. In the ensuing celebration, Boogaard looked so happy - he hadn't scored in four years before that slapper worthy of a player like Shea Weber or even the previously mentioned Chara. Goals were hard to come by for guys like him. But when it did happen, he could cherish those moments.
And that kinda leads into what I want to say about death, or rather, life. We only get one chance at life. We don't get many opportunities to really do something big. So when you do get those opportunities, don't waste them. Don't believe the lie that says 'oh, you'll get another chance at it.' You don't know that. Derek Boogaard had a choice when he scored that goal. His teammate Erik Christensen was wide open on the break, and could have scored had Derek decided to pass it over to him. But Boogaard went for it and he scored.
I'm not saying here that every time you take that chance you are going to do something big. I'm not saying don't ever pass the puck. I'm only saying that you have a finite number of opportunities to be the person God calls you to be.
Don't waste them.
This is your life, are you who you want to be?
This is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be
When the world was younger and you had everything to lose?
-Switchfoot, "This Is Your Life"
Seize the day, or die regretting the time you lost.
-Avenged Sevenfold, "Seize the Day"
Arise and be all that you dreamed, all that you dreamed.
-Flyleaf, "Arise"
I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end, it doesn't even matter
-Linkin Park, "In the End
It's not what you take when you leave this world behind you
It's what you leave behind you when you go.
-Randy Travis, "Three Wooden Crosses"
RIP Derek Boogaard (1982-2011)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)