Blood & Guts

Don't make me angry, The voices in my head don't like it when you make me angry.

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When I was a kid, I was pretty fat. It was a coping mechanism in dealing with my abusive father. In any event, we played football in the front yard, and my brother or his friends, depending on what team I was on, would tell me to block. I was like Forrest Gump. Tell me to do something, and I did it.

I not only did it, I gave it everything I had. By the game's end, I was covered in blood. I went crazy playing games like that. I was that way in baseball too. It didn't matter what it took, I played as hard as I could. I was a catcher from little league on. My favorite part of the game was blocking the plate. Ask most any catcher, outside of Ray Fosse, what their favorite part of their defensive game was blocking the plate.

For those of you who may not remember, when a catcher blocks the plate, it means that a base runner is coming at you, full steam ahead. You position yourself in front of that side of home plate, catch the ball and tag the guy who crashes into you. You know you're going to go flying, but I didn't care. My focus was holding on to the ball.

If I held on, he was out. If I dropped it, he was safe. There was no way I was going to drop the ball and, in fact, I  never did. Ray Fosse was a very good catcher. An all star. During his final all star game, he was blocking the plate with Pete Rose coming at him hard and fast. The collision was horrible to watch, and turned out to be the end of Fosse's career.

Still, to a catcher, there's nothing more exciting in baseball than to take that collision and hang on to the ball. Sweet adrenaline rush. Sometimes, if it's the final out, and the catcher is first up in the next inning, you'll see him hit a home run. The adrenaline is still pumping hard.

Why do anything and not give it your best? If you notice, I write my blog every day. I take no holiday. As a result of making it entertaining, it's consistent. I'm trying as hard as I can do accomplish both. If not, no reason for the blog.

Now, if you'll forgive me, there's a fly buzzing around the house and I'm looking for my rubber band.

See you tomorrow.

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