Well, the time has come to end this little experiment of mine. After nine months of entries, I will no longer posting to this blog. I have been taking an inventory of sorts these days and have decided that keeping this blog is not something I need to be doing at this time.
My thanks to everyone who stopped by to read my posts and to leave comments over the past months. Your support and encouragement have been extremely helpful.
I will still have a presence online (of course):
Feel free to check me out at these places or to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Thanks again, ladies and gentlemen. It’s been fun!
The MLB trading deadline came and went yesterday with the Yankees not getting exactly what they need, but getting something nonetheless. That much needed pitcher did not materialize but utility man Jerry Hairston, Jr did.
I, too, had a deadline of sorts to meet. Pay up or move out by this coming Monday or be evicted. I didn’t get what I needed. I didn’t get the money I need to pay my back rent. But I got a promise of help, nonetheless, and that was enough for the judge in housing court to nix my lanlord’s deadline. I will be meeting with the landlord’s lawyer in a few weeks to come up with a new payment agreement.
There’s another deadline out there. Well, the word “deadline” isn’t the right word for it. Call this one an “upcoming show.” Brit Morgan, my former online radio co-host, does a show now with a really nice guy named Frank Maniscalco (“Frankie The Sports Guy”). They do the show Sunday nights on BlogTalkRadio. Frank will be away tomorrow night, so Brit will be going solo. She’s got some great guests coming on, so tune in tomorrow night at 10PM Eastern. Click here for more details.
I wanted to mention Brit because some of you might know that the show we did together ended on a bad note. A bitter rift caused us to go our separate ways. I am happy to report now that we have settled our differences. She is a talented young woman with a good future ahead of her. I wish her the best of luck in all that she does. Knock ’em dead Brit!
So I’m still without internet service in an apartment I’m fighting with my landlord to keep, but this afternon, when I turned on my laptop to play some CDs, I discovered that I had a wireless connection in my bedroom. Oh, what fun! I’ve been online practically non-stop since around 5:30. As I write this it’s a little past 9:30.
Anyway, with tomorrow being Hall-Of-Fame Sunday, I’ve been thinking about what it was like back when Jim Rice and Rickey Henderson were in their heyday. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about what it was like for me, and I’m finding that, right about now, it’s almost exactly the same:
No internet (Forget what I said about the wireless connection I found. I’m talking in general terms.)
No income ( I was a student back then. Now I’m getting ready to start another retail job next week.)
Not much of anything, except God and church. Back then it was force-fed to me. Now I accept it willingly. I’m sitting here now, quite the happy camper, listening to contemporary Christian music, feeling blessed to have found this wireless connection and knowing that more blessings are coming down the pike toward me. It’s all good.
Do subscribe to the belief that we are never given anything more in life than what we can truly handle? If you do, the last 7 days are proof that I am a very strong person.
Monday: In court, once again fighting a recurring legal problem.
Tuesday: Internet connection was cut off, the same day my MLB.com article was published.
Thursday: A rainy day. Water-logged from my trip to and from the library to use the public computers, and heartbroken over the Nats’ series win over the Yankees.
Friday: Just a general feeling of malaise. Can you blame me?
Saturday: The contractors working on my apartment still hadn’t finished the job, even though the super had promised.
Sunday: While writing this very post, my time on the computer here at the public library ended. I was granted no extensions and was not allowed to make another reservation. (That is why the “week” in this post goes from Monday to Sunday.)
I was so glad to see last week end. But, at the same time, I learned something about myself: that, with God’s help, I’m stronger than I think and I’m growing stronger everyday.
I have one person to thank for my undying love for baseball: My “mother.”
In 1969 when I was 7 years old I was living in Washington, DC with my parents. In March of that year my mother passed away, and my father, a native New Yorker, decided that the best thing for me at that point was to go to New York to live with his sister, Lillian. I did not know Lillian at all. I met her for the first time when she came down to Washington shortly before my mother died. A few weeks later I was in a strange city, about to spend the rest of my formative years with a complete stranger.
Over time, I came to see my aunt as the only true mother I’ve ever had. In fact, I have always called her Ma. But things were very difficult for both of us while she was raising me. Ours was a tenuous relationship to say the least. I won’t go into details. Let’s just say we gave each other hell from the time I moved in until well after I’d moved out as an adult.
There were a few moments when hell disappeared and heaven was a place on earth. One of those moments was when my aunt introduced me to baseball. My aunt grew up in Brooklyn, and when Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier she became a Brooklyn Dodgers fan.
She began following baseball in earnest and paid close attention to what Jackie was doing. When he passed away in the early ’70s, I recall her talking about how much of a fan of his she was, saying she followed everything he did, and everything his family did. She spent a lot of time at Ebbets Field, cheering him (and the rest of “dem Bums”) on.
My aunt is a woman of faith, and when she felt that she’d replaced God with the Dodgers, she “put away childish things” and stopped following baseball. I’m sure it was a hard thing for her to do, but I suppose it became easier when the the team left Brooklyn for Los Angeles.
So, she stopped following baseball, but it never left her blood. When Willie Mays tried to keep his career alive by playing with the Mets in the early 70s, she turned on a Mets game briefly one day to catch of glimpse of him, perhaps to re-live, for a few moments, the golden age of New York baseball. Then, when Hank Aaron broke Babe Ruth’s home run record, she again turned on the TV, but turned it off after Aaron had broken the record.
She didn’t turn the TV on again until October 1978, when the Yankees and Los Angeles Dodgers were the two teams in the World Series. I don’t really know why, but she was captivated by the series. Suddenly I found myself feeling the same way, and then, “that was all she wrote,” as they say. I became a fan for life.
My aunt didn’t stay captivated. In fact, she rued the day she introduced me to baseball. But I am glad she did. She passed both her love of the game and, more importantly, her faith in God onto me. These two things have sustained me, kept me going during this, the toughest time of my life.
Now my aunt is about to start a new chapter in her life. Her declining health has made it no longer possible for her to live on her own. She will be leaving New York early tomorrow morning to go down south to live with her daughter. This morning she reminded me that God will make a way. Somehow.
Thank you, Ma, and Happy Mother’s Day.
The 50th episode of “A Show Of Their Own” aired last night. It was the longest 90 minutes of my entire life!
A few hours before the show started I received an email from my dear co-host Brit telling me that she was having internet problems and that I should be prepared in case she lost her internet connection. Okay, fine. I was thinking that she’d lose her connection for a brief period of time and that she’d be back on within 30 seconds or so. I figured I could handle that. I could even handle it if it happened a couple of times. Well, Brit never really had an internet connection last night. I spent most of the show on the air by myself. It was extremely difficult. I pretty much ran through our entire agenda in a half hour and couldn’t really think of anything else to talk about. At one point I thought a caller had saved me. But it was only someone trying to play a joke on me. Not exactly what I needed in an already stressful situation.
Brit felt terrible about everything and kept apologizing to me via instant messenger. I felt terrible about being so frazzled that I couldn’t really respond to her messages properly.
The one saving grace during the show was MLB.com Yankee beat writer and MLBlogger Bryan Hoch. Bryan knows his Yankee beat and it was great talking to him about it. The Joker called in again while I was interviewing Bryan. He waited on hold during the entire interview. I don’t know what happened to him after that. For all I know he could still be waiting to talk to me.
“How much can one man take?”
This is what Michael Kay said about Alex Rodriguez a few days ago, when the news about his torn labrum surfaced. Another crisis for A-Rod. The guy has been through a lot in the past year. True, a lot of it was his own doing, but tough times are tough times, no matter how you break them down and no matter who goes through them.
If you’ve read this blog before you know about some of the tough times I’ve gone through in the past year. Do you want to know something else? Like A-Rod, a lot of it was my own doing. I’m a very independent person who, for many years did not believe she needed anyone else’s help to get by in the world. I was so wrong.
In the Bible, Proverbs Chapter 15, Verse 22 says, “Without counsel, plans go wrong, but with many advisors they succeed.” (New Revised Standard Version) If I had asked for help sooner I would not be doing the following right now:
1. Un-incorporating a business
2. Facing eviction at the end of this month
3. Planning to move back home at the age of 47
4. Accepting food from a neighborhood food pantry
It’s true that the economy has a lot to do with the predicament that I am in. But if I had only reached out to people sooner,I am sure that I would not be as bad off as I am now.
Part of life is about learning and growing from your mistakes. I have learned from my mistakes. I am ready to grow. And I will not grow alone.