Rebuilding season

Over-thinking

2011-11-02T05:00:00.000-07:00

I'll take a brief departure from my usual material to give you a glimpse inside my mind. I'm the kind of guy that over-thinks small things. If you're ever trying to have a conversation, and I seem distant, chances are I'm just thinking about something really stupid. This week's blog is an example of the stupid stuff I think about. Listen to this song:

You've probably heard this song. I heard it again, as I have many times, while driving home at night from a friends' house. I got stuck on the lyrics of the chorus:

It's only in my dreams

That I can Change the worldI would be the sunlight in your universeYou would think my love was really something goodBaby, if i could change the world

So the question for me became, why is it only in his dreams? There's basically two options here:

The artist's love is not good enough. The artist has the rapt attention of his intended lover, but he's just not quite good enough of a man. Perhaps he's inattentive, or he doesn't have the means to provide for her, or maybe he's got demons he needs to work out. Regardless, he wishes his love were good enough to satisfy his lover, but it isn't. This is supported by the second verse of the song;

If I could be king, even for a day
I'd take you as my queen
I'd have it no other way
And our love would rule
this kingdom we have made
Til' then i'll be a fool
Wishing for the day

The imagery of him being a king highlights the idea that he needs something else in order to get his way. He needs an outside source of empowerment, and once that happens, he can finally satisfy the woman he would make queen. Until then, he becomes a fool. He doesn't become lonely, he just becomes a fool.

The artist has the love he needs, but he doesn't have the girl yet. He knows he could get the job done if he just had the chance, but the girl either doesn't know him, or more likely, doesn't think of him "that way." I've grown up surrounded by emotional boyhood songs lamenting these dreaded fates. This theory is supported by the first verse;

If I could reach the stars
Pull one down for you
Shine it on my heart
So you could see the truth
That this love I have inside
Is everything it seems
But for now I find
It's only in my dreams

In this alternate reality, we see the artist going to great lengths just to get the right attention drawn on him. The star he reaches up and pulls down is a source bright enough to illuminate the love hidden in his heart, which apparently she hasn't yet been able to see. It would be undeniable; she'd have to finally see how much better she could have it with him.

What does this song say about love, furthermore? This artist has the potential to be anything, and he chooses to be sunlight. Don't get me wrong, I like sunlight; it lets me see outside my window, it gives me Vitamin D, and it saves us all energy since we don't have to turn the lights on. That said, it's something I take for granted. I'm not really thankful for sunlight, but rather, I just assume it will always be there. Is this what the artist thinks that love is? One would have to presume so. Since this is the case, we get a bleak picture of the artist. He is so desperate for his lover that even being taken for granted would be a huge upgrade over his situation.

Is there a right answer? Probably not; I think it's a mix of both. The artist is probably a good friend of the subject, who burns passionately for her but is also unable to get the courage to actually put that passion into action. Thus, we're left with actually a pretty sad image of a man who is literally wishing upon a star for love to fall into his lap. All we can hope is that this song is actually sung to the woman in question, and not simply lamented into the nothingness of space.

I wonder if I'm the only one who spends way too much time thinking of nonsense like this.

Equal Entertainment

2011-10-19T05:00:00.000-07:00

These days, I find myself pressed for time. It's not necessarily because I have so many worthwhile things to do, but more because I have a lot of worthless things that I want to do, and limited time to do them. Occasionally among this list of worthless things comes a show I want to watch. I know that if I want to catch up on a show that I've heard good things about, it will take many hours of sitting around and watching the show. This is time that I could spend doing more worthwhile things; working out, writing, reading, etc. The difference between then and now is that TV is slowly becoming a worthwhile endeavor.

How often are you told that you should be watching a show? I'm guilty of doing this occasionally. Certain shows are extremely entertaining, like Community. Others are historically relevant, like Band of Brothers. Others have very well written suspense and drama, like The Wire or Breaking Bad. The fact of the matter is that, as TV evolves, more shows come along that hold real artistic value. Time is drawing near when watching TV will be considered just as valuable as reading a book.

It's already here to some extent. One of the more popular book series out there is the Twilight series. Without getting too much into a "Twilight Sucks" rant, I think I can safely say that the novel series isn't one which is designed to teach the world grand lessons. Rather, it's supposed to be good fun. There's a reasonable argument to be had that watching a TV series like Planet Earth, or even Mad Men. Mad Men is a much more culturally relevant, engaging, and smart series than Twilight is.

So what does this all mean? When do we actually accept TV as a legitimate way to invest your time, as opposed to a distraction which needs to be limited? When will books and TV be considered the same, if ever?

The Final Soul Blazing

2011-10-12T05:00:00.000-07:00

The women in my family have had a tenuous relationship with video games in the past. My oldest sister has basically never played them, my Mom played Mario once to the rest of our delight, and my other sister Stephanie only played a scant few games. She would play Mario and other easy to pick up/easy to put down games. There was one long RPG that she would play; Soul Blazer.

Look at this game. This is a game where you have to free the gosh darn Freilians, and make that jerk Deathtoll pay. What else do you need to know? For those of you with no sense of heroism, Soul Blazer was a Legend of Zelda knockoff where you romped through dungeons killing monsters and freeing the humans trapped inside. Once you did all that, you'd kill a boss, and move to the next area and do the same. It was pretty fun, if not that innovative.

Stephanie played this game...a lot. She must have played it at least six or seven times all the way through, which is not a feat to be underestimated. Each playthrough was at least fifteen hours of gameplay, depending on if you wanted to make sure you did everything along the way. Each time she played the game, she named the main character (a boy) after whatever boy she currently had a crush on. There were so many that I couldn't even remember the names of all them. Furthermore, for as long as we were kids, she could never defeat any of the bosses. They were kinda tough, and she'd rather the monotony of doing the regular levels rather than toil away at the bosses, so she'd ask me to do them for her. This continued through High School, and even College. She borrowed my Super Nintendo, and played, and at some point I'd beat a boss for her, and she'd go back to the game. One day, though, everything changed. I got a call from her about four years ago.

Stephanie: "Andy, I gotta tell you something."

Me: "What is it, sis?"

Stephanie: "I beat Soul Blazer...by myself!"

There are a few constants of the world I must cling to in order for my life to make sense. God exists, he sent his son to die, and he loves me. The earth spins a little more than 365 times for each lap around the sun it takes. 2 + 2 does not equal 5. Stephanie can not beat Soul Blazer. All this is known. When Stephanie told me she beat Soul Blazer, I plum didn't believe it. I had to see for myself. The next trip I made to her place, I demanded to see the game. Sure enough, she had beat the game, by herself. Her fiance assured me that he had no part in it, but little did he know how much of a part he had. In fact, not only did he beat all the bosses, he beat everything else, without knowing it.

The character was named after him.

I think there's something symbolic there. After years of trying to beat the game with characters named after a hodge podge of current crushes and daydream fantasies, she finally won. She saved the world, and it's all thanks to a hero named Bob. If I were allowed a speech at her wedding, this would have been the tale I was told. It would have been grand and magnificent.

Maybe it's better that I was kept silent during the reception.

And then I stopped

2011-10-05T05:00:00.000-07:00

When I was in High School I ran a lot. I've mentioned this in the past. For a while it was my main source of pride and happiness. I ran because I was good at it, and it made me feel like I was accomplishing something in my life. By the time my Senior Year rolled around, I had realized that I wasn't happy running. This also fueled the realization that God needed to be the source of my happiness rather than sport. Anyways, when I entered college, it caused me to have to make a decision; do I keep running for the sake of being good at something, or stop?

When I had decided to go to College of San Mateo (the local Junior College), the coach had actually "recruited" me, if you will. Obviously there would be no scholarships to a JC, but the coach wanted me to be a key piece on his Cross Country/Track teams for the next two years. He assured me that if I ran to the best of my ability, it would help me nail down a scholarship to a school whenever I decided to transfer. At this point, running wasn't just a source of pride; it could actually be a source of saved money. There was a tangible benefit to running.

Why would I not run, then? The reason is simple; I hated it. I just didn't like the way I felt when I was done, and I didn't like the person I was becoming when I invested myself into running. I knew that if I hated the person I had become when only investing pride, then I would become an absolutely despicable person when I was investing personal well-being.

What won out? Did I put aside my fears of becoming a worse person in favor of trying to secure a better place in the world? Or did I realize that the benefits were shaky at best, and that personal happiness was more important? As you may have guessed, I opted for the latter. If/When I entered a four year university, I wanted it to be because I had earned it academically. I wanted to be a man whose academic accomplishments were worth something.

You ever had one of those times when you're procrastinating, and you justify it because "Well, I'm a strong person, and I'll get it done when the time comes?" I did that often. The problem was that I never actually "did it". I just liked the idea that Andy was a superman who could always grit it out with determination and awesomeness. Sadly, there was little awesomeness left in the well to draw from. The time would come, and I'd just flake and blow it.

What does this have to do with running? I knew that if I kept on running, then I would never become the man who gets it done when times were rough. I wouldn't actually challenge myself to learn valid skills and focus in the classroom; I would be the same immature boy who relied on empty promises to myself rather than actual hard work to accomplish things. If I was going to go anywhere, I had to learn how to work hard. I didn't work hard when I ran; I just did what the coach told me and then ran the race.

I'm glad I made the decision I did. I stopped running, and it forced me to learn how to study, how to meet deadlines, and how to actually do things when I said I would do them. God used that period to reform me. He took a man who had no idea what gave him happiness and showed him how to work for the Lord. I learned how to show my joy in the Lord by working hard, and I became a man of my word.

Are sports and running things that are inherently bad? Not at all. Idolatry, though, takes many forms. Whatever you put in front of your relationship with the lord, or whatever you draw happiness from aside from God, is an idol. The Lord showed this to me, and helped me cut it off so that I could instead draw my pride and satisfaction from what Jesus has done. If there's anything I've gained from running, it's that it can't really fill me up, and I'm thankful for knowing that for sure.

Learning the Lesson

2011-09-28T05:00:00.000-07:00

So I went out to see Moneyball, right? Fun time; good movie. The movie talks a lot about taking walks in baseball. The idea is that a walk is, most of the time, just as good as a hit, since either way you end up on base which is the most important part. The idea of taking a walk is a strange one, though. I remember when I was a little kid I loved taking the walk. When I was in 3rd grade, I played baseball. I was a member of the AAA Twins, and I think we were pretty good. I was the shortest kid on the team, and after just a few weeks I realized that I got on base a lot more often when I didn't swing the bat. You see, AAA was the first level when the kids pitched for themselves, and it was hard to throw a ball inside the strike zone of a kid that's right around 4 feet tall. I loved getting on base, because when you were on base you got to run around (and even steal bases!) As I've mentioned in the past, running was kind of my thing, so I wanted to do whatever it took to let me run. I didn't really learn much about baseball though.

Flash forward to a couple years ago. I was umpiring a AAA game for San Ramon Little League. When I umpire that age group, the strike zone I call is gigantic. If that kid can hit it, and it isn't at his eyeballs or on the ground, it's probably a strike. This is to encourage the kids to swing the bat. The pitchers have fun when they put the ball past the batter, the fielders have fun when they get to field the ball, and kids get to run around. Everyone wins. Nonetheless, on my way out, I was barked at by a bitter parent who was questioning the educational value of calling a gigantic strike zone. I, in turn, questioned the value of sticking the bat on the shoulder and taking a free pass. I knew I had done it when I was a kid. I didn't really learn much about baseball though.

I wonder if this shaped my view of baseball at all. I'm a huge fan of sabermetrics these days, and I know the value of the walk. To me, it doesn't matter if you try the hardest on the field or if you're the nicest guy; what matters is that you put runs up for your team and stop the other team from doing the same. I came to this conclusion after reading books like Moneyball and Baseball Prospectus, and through normal rational thought. The question is, why do I think kids should swing the bat and adults should take the walk? Is it better that I help the kids have fun rather than get results, and I think the opposite for adults? At which point do I flip the switch and start taking the walk? I feel like I haven't really learned much about baseball.

Pickiness and Potatoes

2011-09-15T05:00:00.000-07:00

Were you a picky eater when you were a kid? I was. Fortunately the pickiness always fleshed itself out in easy to manageable ways. For instance, when I wanted a sandwich, I wanted bread with mayonnaise and the cheap sliced turkey. That's it. If I was really feeling adventurous I might want lettuce. If you had mayo and turkey, I could live for days. Sometimes, though, my pickiness had dire consequences. Let me tell you about mashed potatoes.

Let me say this first off: I like mashed potatoes (now.) After many years, I grew to like the buttery texture and absorbant flavor, and have realized that my Mom really does make great mashed potatoes. This was not always the case. Certainly my Mom always made great mashed potatoes, but I didn't know. When I was young, all I knew was that mashed potatoes were gross as all heck. The texture was creepy and the flavor was sickening. I knew I wanted no part of them. I was probably five or six years old one day when Mom made the fateful mistake of forcing me to eat them.

It was a family dinner like many others. The six of us were huddled around the table, and in front of me was a full plate of food, including a heaping helping of potatoes. I told Mom, quite abruptly, that no mashed potatoes would be eaten that night. If anyone else wanted to have their fill of the abomination, by all means, I won't stop them. I, though, refused to eat such filth. Mom, being the ever wise one, told me I had to eat the potatoes. I get it now; she just wanted me to get over my irrational fear of potatoes and eat them because they tasted good and were healthy. Nope. I refused to cave. She insisted.

You ever try to go toe to toe in logic with a child? You know that at any time the child could cave in and do something so unthinkable that it throws the argument out the window. I had to do that; I resorted to threats. "Mom, if you make me eat those potatoes, I will throw up." I meant it, too. Mom wasn't having any of it. I reinstated my claim. "Mom, if you make me eat those potatoes, I will throw up." I was told, once again, to eat the potatoes. I was told I'd like them, and I saw my whole family enjoying them. I had to teach them a lesson.

You probably have two outcomes swirling in your head right now: one where I cave in and enjoy them, and one where I eat them and return them from whence they came. This, unfortunately, is a story of the latter. I did eat those potatoes, and I returned them back towards the center of the table in the fastest way possible. It was a revolting sight. Nonetheless, Mom insisted on this dance again. We debated the merits of the potatoes, and I once again consumed/unconsumed them. From that day on, Mom never forced me to eat anything.

It took me until mid way through High School to enjoy a potato that wasn't French Fried. I stayed picky, and enjoyed mayonnaise and turkey sandwiches. Heck, I'll probably eat one of those this afternoon. The point here is that when you try to match logic with a child incapable of reason, you'll probably get burned. Mom knew that she had to pick her battles with her kids, and I guess that day she realized that with a possible outcome like that, foods were no longer a worthy battle to fight.

Dad, Still

2011-09-07T05:00:00.000-07:00

Most people identify themselves as Morning or Night people. For whatever reason, people always feel like they get better work done at one extreme or the other. Me, personally, I feel I'm a night person. It's almost as if the world has gone to sleep, and I'm finally free to just dump thoughts onto paper. I need to have a free and clear mind from other work in order to really let it flow. My Dad, on the other hand, is a morning person. He claims he wakes up instinctively at 4 AM, sometimes 3, due to habit. I don't know why we're so different in that regard, but you can't say he didn't try to make me a morning person.

When I was young, I remember waking up early on either Saturday or Sunday morning to play video games with my Dad. The rest of the family was asleep, so the only ones to wake up were my pseudo-nocturnal Pops and me, the youngest kid in the family. We'd wake up, drive to Happy Donuts in Belmont (I believe it was called Wild Bill's back then) and grab breakfast before going to play games. Typically in the beginning we'd go off to my Dad's work, where his tech-savvy co-worker Don had a bunch of computer games stored on his computer. Old adventure stuff mostly; I remember King's Quest being one of them. Typically I'd play a game, and Dad would watch.

As an aside, there's something awesome about having your parents just sit and watch you do things. When I started helping out with Jr. High, I remember I was told that the kids will grow to like you just because at that age it's cool to have an adult care about what you're doing. I don't know what it is about having people watch and care and encourage you, but when it's an adult you respect (especially a parent) it really means something else.

So anyways, Dad watching me play video games was special. Eventually the owner of the business (my Grandpa) caught wind of the games, and banned them from the office. What a curmudgeon. Anyways, the locale switched to my home. The weekend gaming took on a new tone at that point; it was gaming in quiet because I wasn't allowed to wake my family. The quiet was what permeates my thoughts of those days. My Dad and I didn't always talk a ton. Well, I should say, I talked a ton, and my Dad listened. Perhaps the video gaming was a way for my Dad to enjoy my company without having to listen to me yammer on incessantly about Calvin and Hobbes or whatever occupied my six-year-old mind at the time.

There just isn't enough quiet these days. I still talk too much, I play video games, and I still eat donuts, but I don't have the quiet enough. Dad always brought the quiet. When things went wrong, I could count on Dad to come in, bring the quiet, and slow things down to the point that they could be sorted out. I think of Psalm 46:10.

He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”

I admire a lot about my Dad, but his ability to be still, quiet, and listen to God is definitely up near the top of the list. Even in trivial things like playing video games, Dad was always there to be still and just listen to what was going on around him. I really need to start taking in more of his wisdom.

Mother's Intuition

2011-08-31T05:00:00.000-07:00

You ever think about the Christmas List? When I was a kid, I made a list of things I wanted for Christmas. I knew I wouldn't get all of them (sometimes hardly any of the specific things I mentioned) but I knew making a list was important. It served to hype up the season and get myself excited, and it also served to let everyone know what I wanted. Like many kids (or so I imagine) I always took great pride in my list. I posted it front and center on the refrigerator for all to see, and I'd keep an eye out for people looking at it. When Christmas rolled around, I was always happy with my gifts, though sometimes they weren't the ones on the list. There was one thing that tied the gifts together though: Mom. Either Mom directly bought it and gave it to me, or she had advised someone in what to get me, or cleverly disguised a gift from "Willie Mays" or whatever. You could always tell the thought Mom put into buying Christmas gifts.

Her thought processes, though, ranged from the extremely cryptic to the flat out obvious. I remember, once, receiving a call when I was 10 or so from my Mom in early December.

"Hi, Andy?"

"Yeah, Mom?"

"Uhh, yeah, do you like "War...craft?"

"Yeah, I do, Mom."

"Oh, OK. Do you like "Might...And...Magic?"

"Yeah...why do you ask?"

"Oh, I was just wondering." (Click)

Can't blame the lady for wanting to get it right. Other times, though, it was mysterious. I remember in College I got a printer. It's a very nice printer; I still use it to this day. It scans, copies, prints photos, and the ink is really affordable. The thing is, though, that I never told anyone I needed a printer. The printer I had at the time was a piece of junk that barely got the job done and was on its last legs Come Christmas time, though, Mom gave me a printer though I had just barely realized I needed one. Chalk that one up to Mother's Intuition I guess.

I think Moms are supposed to have an innate sense of knowing when their kids need something. Being the fourth kid of the Patrick line, I think I reaped an intangible benefit of Mom having honed this skill through the years. By the time I reached every age level, Mom was so well polished at the art of coming through in the clutch that I didn't even realize it was happening. Things just went right, and that was the way of the world. Even though she worked until at least 5:00, there was always a warm dinner at home at night. Whenever practice had ended, there was always a ride ready to come get me. Whenever I tore a hole in my shirt jumping over a fence to make prank phone c--I mean, jumping over a fence for fun and nothing else--there would always be another shirt there ready to take its place. These may sound like trivial and obvious things, but I've started to realize that they aren't for everyone, and they didn't have to be. If it weren't for Mom orchestrating all these things, then my childhood wouldn't have been as carefree as it was.

I wonder if Moms strive to get to the point where their kids don't even realize they're doing the things they're doing. Mom always did everything without too much fanfare. She never made a big deal about her birthday, or fished for thank yous at dinner, or anything like that. She simply made sure it was done, and took joy in the fact that her family was safe and happy. That's pretty amazing. Maybe that's what Mother's Intuition is: just a practiced skill derived from knowing how to keep the family safe and happy. If so, my Mom's pretty darn intuitive.

Brothers

2011-08-24T05:00:00.000-07:00

Quick refresher course: I like video games, I rented them often, I thought my brother was the greatest video game player when I was a kid. With that in mind, let's flash back to the year 19xx.

The year is 19xx (I don't actually remember the year but I was around 7 or 8 years old). My brother and I had rented Mega Man 3. Mega Man 3 was a game where you weren't just a regular man, but a weird robot man that could absorb special powers from other robot men by killing them. So your goal was to pick a stage, get past the evil guy's lair (mostly by jumping and shooting) and then killing the guy himself at the end. There's more to it, but you get the idea. Each Mega Man game had eight evil guys you had to kill before getting to the final evil guy, and you could do them in any order you liked. When you beat a boss, you were given a password, and if you wanted to turn off your Nintendo, you could restart your progress by inputting the password when you started playing again.

Anyways, so my brother and I had rented this game. We took turns trying to beat the boss. Most of the time this involved me failing miserably and then handing the controller off to my brother who would do much better. In fact, I think he had beaten every one of the evil guys except for one: Magnet Man.

Look at this guy: dude has a magnet on his head. He's serious business. He was serious enough business in fact, that Doug and I had quite a time trying to beat him. I remember us trying more than once before having to call it a night and both having to go to school. After school got off I went home to try my hand again at the dreaded Man of Magnets. I had some time to the game myself before Doug got home, and I had to relish it. We were lucky to have a second TV in our house, and it didn't have cable, which meant it was free for Doug and I to play all we wanted. That said, sharing was strictly enforced. Once Doug got home, we had to take turns (unless, of course, one person "broke the other's concentration" which was a policy liberally enforced). In the time before Doug got home, though, somehow I had managed to beat Magnet Man. Don't ask me how; it was some combination of blind luck and sheer force of will.

This was a big moment for me; I think it was the first time I beat Doug to anything. Of course, I didn't really think of it that way. I thought of it as doing my part for the team. Doug would come home, hear the good news, and then we'd progress straight on to the boss together. That, unfortunately, wasn't the reaction he had. Doug wanted to beat the level for himself, and he was actually kind of mad that I had done it without him. We had what resembled an argument between brothers seven years apart, and I'm not even positive we played that night. The next morning though you can be dang sure we kept going in the game. Doug and I had a neat relationship growing up; we could get mad and yell at each other, but once we got a good night's sleep, all was forgiven. No apologies were sought for or given; we just reverted to being brothers without grudges. It was understood that whatever had happened before happened, but it wasn't big enough to get between us. We just let it lie, and moved on.

I remember at times wondering if there should have been more apologies handed out, but now I don't think so. The dynamic between us, at least from my angle, never begat any grudges, and I hope it was the same way with him. I wonder if all brothers are this way. I think the moral of the story is: don't let stupid nonsense get between you and your brother/friend/partner/whatever; there are magnet men (and their proverbial counterparts) that are far more important to focus on.

Gentleman Jim

2011-08-17T05:00:00.000-07:00

So Jim Thome just the other day hit his 600th home run. This is a pretty startling athletic feat; only seven other players have done this, and they belong to three categories: Hall of Famers (Aaron, Ruth, Mays), surefire hall of famers (Griffey, A-Rod), or surefire hall of famers if not for PED suspicion (Bonds, Sosa). Jim Thome is also the nicest guy in baseball. One would think that these two things combined would make a huge baseball story, but it's not getting that much love. I particularly think that it's getting slighted when compared to Derek Jeter's 3000th hit, a feat accomplished by twenty eight people. I have a few theories:

1) In light of past steroid use by other sluggers, people are associating Thome with steroid use by proxy. I get it; baseball has tainted our minds forever. We can't really look at any random feel-good comeback story without wondering if it was a product of chemical use. When you look at a monstrous slugger like Thome, it's easy to think that he's all 'roids. That said, Thome has never been connected with steroids. He wasn't on the Mitchell Report, he wasn't named by Canseco, and there haven't been whispers around the media about him. Furthermore, hitting home runs is all Thome does. We're not talking about a guy like Bonds, who went from a great 5 tool player to the most prolific masher in history. We're talking about a big guy who stayed big and did what he had always done.

2) Thome does not play for a large market team. Thome plays for the Minnesota Twins, and before that he played for the Chicago White Sox. The American League Central has never been a division where most of America looks to for action. Thome is now on his 5th club (Indians, Phillies, ChiSox, Dodgers, Twins) and can't really be considered "Mr." anything, like, say, Jeter is. Jeter is an iconic Yankee, so he has the backing of the biggest fanbase in American Baseball.

3) Major League Baseball is hedging it's bet for a few years with regards to power hitters. This is related to #1, but focuses more on the sport as a whole. Major League Baseball might not want to trump up a huge slugger as a model for the game just in case a story does break that the involved parties were juicing.

4) Thome's secondary skills are overlooked. To the untrained eye, Derek Jeter is a fabulous hitter that is made even better by the fact that he's a shortstop. Jim Thome is a fat dude that drops bombs. While most of the world can't seem to fathom the idea that Jeter wasn't a good fielder, the simple fact that he is a shortstop makes his feat that much more awe inspiring. Jim Thome's secondary skill? Getting on base. Thome got on base at a .403 clip over his career, good for 6th among active players (Helton, Pujols, Manny, Berkman, Giambino). Unfortunately the majority of the baseball loving world is just as slow with realizing the benefit of the walk as they are of seeing Jeter's poor defense work, so Thome comes off as a one dimensional player while Jeter is hailed as a toolsy beast.

It's a shame. It's a darn shame. Gentleman Jim is among the best hitters we have had the pleasure of witnessing in our lifetime, and this great milestone may be the pinnacle of his career, and baseball just isn't giving him his due because of circumstances beyond his control. Well done Jim.

The Bonnell Hurdle

2011-08-10T05:00:00.000-07:00

I didn't always like writing. When I was in Jr. High, I felt the same about writing as did every other kid; it was just something that came along with school. Sure, I wrote stories when I was a little kid, but those died out as I got older. When I was in school at that age, I wrote in the same manner as I did any other homework assignment; uncaringly. This made for quite the shock when I reached high school and I ran into the entity known only as "Mr. Bonnell."

Mr. Bonnell was his own man. He wore a bow tie, rode a cruiser bike to school, rang a bell to signify the start of class, and addressed everyone by Mr. and Miss. He was, to put it lightly, old fashioned. During the summer going into my Freshman year of High School, Mr. Bonnell required all incoming students to write a paper on a book of their choice from a small list. I chose "The Hobbit" because I had already read it, and thus, didn't have to do any extra work. My paper was what I had assumed a paper was supposed to be; grammatically correct in most ways. I didn't really care about what the content was, because my 8th grade teacher cared only about proper grammar. It didn't matter to me that the entirety of my paper was just a rough summary of the book in two pages, as I thought I had done a fine job. Mr. Bonnell politely disagreed.

After I read my paper to him in private as all students did, he explained to me that my paper wasn't quite up to standards. To sum up; I got a D-. It was quite the shocker as my first grade of my High School career wasn't one to write home about, so clearly I had work to do. I spent the rest of the first semester trying to figure out what to do, and mostly failing, though occasionally I gained slight progress. Up until the last paper of the quarter the highest grade I had received on a paper was a C-. The last paper of the semester was on George Orwell's classic, 1984. I had to try something new. I told my Mom (God bless her for putting up with all my writing nonsense) that I would go a different route. I was going to throw style out the window completely and be totally structured with my paper. My essay would consist of quotes and explanation. I would have a short introduction, a short conclusion, and one sentence at the bookends of each paragraph. Other than that, I would have nothing but quotes and explanation to prove my point. "Winston did this" and it meant that. It was bold, but I had no option left other than the hail mary. When I had finished reading that essay to Mr. Bonnell, he sat there staring at it blankly. He carefully pondered how to break the news to me. I knew I had done something wrong.

"This is exactly what I've been looking for, Mr. Patrick."

The clouds parted. Light shined down through the atrium and onto me, straight from the heavens. The wisdom and mysteries of the stars were being revealed to me as all happiness flowed through me. Mr. Bonnell was finally pleased with my work. He went on to tell me...I don't know. I don't even remember the particularities of that conversation beyond "you did it." All I knew was that I had somehow figured out how to write a paper, and I did it by breaking it down to its most basic elements, shrugging, and hoping I got there. That day was a turning point for me; I would strive to be as terse as possible in my academic writing, and it hasn't failed me since. Sure, I don't follow that model in blog-format ramblings, but that's why nobody reads this blog but me, and those who love me an inexplicable amount.

At what Cost?

2011-08-03T05:00:00.000-07:00

Growing up in Foster City was really, really hard. I'd try to communicate to you how difficult it was, but I'm afraid the english language has no such words. Until "undifficult" becomes a word, I think I'll just have to abstain. One such undifficult summer saw Joe, Kevin, off-and-on 4th musketeer Steven, and I trying to find refreshment on a hot day. It was a blisteringly hot 90 degrees outside, and we had no money. Our parents, the sole source of money, were at work, and we only had water to help us. Joe had one option, though, and in his freezer for whatever reason was a bottle of Coca-Cola. The only problem was that, since the Coke was in the freezer, it had been, well, frozen.

It was a rock. We tried to get that coke out, and maybe just let it thaw to allow us to drink the coke slushee, but the coke wasn't having it. We tugged, pulled, twisted, banged, hit, sledged, punched, and every other violent verb you can think of'd that bottle of coke. We wanted that coke; we needed that coke. After thoroughly beating into submission, though, we realized that we just needed to let it thaw. As a last ditch effort, Joe took a butcher knife out of the cupboard and tried to cut it open. When he stuck the knife in, unfortunately nothing happened. We expected sweet sweet coke to drip out, but it didn't. Joe shrugged. Steven, ever the eager young man ready to tackle the word, opted to give it the old college try.

Steven saddled up to that bottle of coke much like a young Arthur trying to pull the sword from the stone. Unfortunately, unlike Arthur, things didn't work out for him. Oh, he got the knife out, but much more with it. Imagine that, for a moment, when Arthur pulls the sword out, that the very rock that held it shattered into a million fiery pieces because of the sheer magnitude of what had just occurred. Now, replace "million fiery pieces" with "Coke" and you can guess what really happened. The moment that air was allowed into the savaged Coke bottle, it erupted with the anger of a thousand Mount Vesuvii. Once the coke dust cleared, Steven was left dripping with Coca Cola, and a Steven shaped outline on the wall was left, as the wall took the majority of the damage.

We spent the remainder of the day trying to clean it up, but unfortunately, there was no escaping the grounding that occurred. Alas, when Joe's dad came home, the ceilings were sticky, and Joe was punished. I'll always have that moment, though. The hissing sound of the air escaping, the brown flash in the air, and the Steven shaped outline on the wall as we finally got all the Coke we wanted.

Biblical Witnessing

2011-07-27T05:00:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it means to "witness" to people in a biblical sense. I've heard the term thrown around a lot amongst the church, and unfortunately I find it to be mostly a christian buzz word. I'd put it right up there with "righteousness" as one of the more common terms used without much thought. Let's take a look at a passage from Isaiah.

⁸ Lead out those who have eyes but are blind,
who have ears but are deaf.
⁹ All the nations gather together
and the peoples assemble.
Which of their gods foretold this
and proclaimed to us the former things?
Let them bring in their witnesses to prove they were right,
so that others may hear and say, “It is true.”
¹⁰ “You are my witnesses,” declares the LORD,
“and my servant whom I have chosen,
so that you may know and believe me
and understand that I am he.
Before me no god was formed,
nor will there be one after me.
¹¹ I, even I, am the LORD,
and apart from me there is no savior.
¹² I have revealed and saved and proclaimed—
I, and not some foreign god among you.
You are my witnesses,” declares the LORD, “that I am God.
¹³ Yes, and from ancient days I am he.
No one can deliver out of my hand.
When I act, who can reverse it?”

So God is trying to win everyone over, right? God's got this amazing book and this long history of amazing things he's done, and he knows he can back his word up. He's calling out idol worshipers from other lands to see who else out there has been able to do what he's done. Whenever they show up, he's going to put us out there against them. In the proverbial case for God, we are the witnesses he calls to the stand. We are the expert opinions, the eyewitnesses, and the character witnesses to prove God's glory. God does not need us to be all powerful, but he does use us to prove his point. When we're called to the stand of life to prove what God has done (which should be every day) we have to be confident in our testimony (there's another Christian buzz word I can clear up here) so that we can help God win the case. I never used to think of words like "testimony," and "witness" in a court sense, but that's intended imagery right there. God wants us to remember that we, in the way we live our lives, are making a case for God. The more we live our lives like we don't care, aren't confident in the word, or are too insecure to speak, the weaker of a case we make for God. Conversely, the more confident we are in God's work and the more prepared we are against cross examination, the more water our testimony will hold in the court of Earth.

Live your life as a worthy testimony. God has chosen you to prove his point, and he's not going to put you on the stand unprepared. Trust in him, seek his council, and you'll be more than prepared to play your role in his case.

I Can't Read People

2011-07-20T05:00:00.000-07:00

Just a quick story today.

When I was younger, my Dad and I were always on the hunt for cheap video games. We'd scour garage sales, the San Jose Flea Market, and any other place we could find with used video games on the cheap. One of the places we found was a Game Crazy in Arizona where we vacationed one year. Game Crazy was in its first stages, so there weren't a lot of them around. Anyways, my Dad and I were in the store browsing the games there when a lady walked in. The lady had a rather disheveled appearance; her dark hair was frizzed about everywhere, she had a cane, her clothing looked like it was just thrown on, and she had a gigantic dog with her. She also had big black sunglasses. The lady, grabbing everyone's attention from the counter, yelled to everyone inside, "Is this the Applebee's?"

It was rather strange; this place was clearly not the Applebee's, purveyor of fine pies and family dining, this was a video game store. She was informed as such by the store clerk. "Where is the Applebee's?" the lady shouted back. I didn't really understand why she couldn't find it herself. The clerk told her to walk out the store, take a left, and walk about 200 yards down the street and she'd run smack dab into it. She left the store. What a strange occurence.

When I got into the car with both my parents when my Mom picked me up, I decided to relay the story. Even at a young age I knew this would be a fun story to tell, so I told my Mom what had happened. I told her a clueless, strange lady came in with a big dog, huge sunglasses, and an inability to distinguish Game Crazy from Applebee's. My Dad, ever the realist, threw up his hands in amazement at my inability to understand. My Dad always had a way of explaining things so that I would understand them. Once again, he had found a way to take this complex, strange affair, and break it down to the most simple solution so I, too, could see.

"Andy, she was blind."

Oooooooooooooooooh.

Short Circuits and Garden Shears

2011-07-13T05:00:00.000-07:00

I spent a lot of my high school days inside the cramped garage of Joe's family. Joe was allowed 1/4 of the garage to play host to a veritable mini-man-cave for him and his friends. There we had an extremely small TV, an old couch, a beat up recliner, and dreams. We'd gather together many days to play video games and forget what time it was. One day, though, all that would come to an end after a misplaced snip by yours truly.

There were five of us there that day. I believe it was Joe, Kevin, Kevin's sister Lauryn, and occasional d'Artagnan Steven. We were playing the shooting game Perfect Dark which only allowed four people to play at a time. While we cycled through rounds of the game, one person had to sit out. During my turn to sit out, I set out to find things to do. I was in a garage, and as such, was able to find a lot of things to do. There were many random implements to stupidly amuse myself with, and the flavor of the day was a pair of gardening shears. As my friends played, I snipped. I didn't snip anything in particular, I just snipped the air. Don't ask why I was doing this, for there exists no such rhyme or reason. During the match, though, my snipping would go awry. Without realizing it, an errant controller cord moved itself into the path of my blades, and with one movement of my arms, the cord was cut.

Instantly, all the lights in the entire garage went black. The lightbulb at the ceiling; the LED lights from the Nintendo; all lights went out. Within a few seconds things came back on, but the Nintendo did not. It was fried. We tried a lot to resurrect that poor system, but it was all for naught. Joe, in shock from what had just occurred, simply uttered to himself, "Well, at least this will give me a chance to play Chrono Trigger" (on a different gaming console.) I thought to myself, though, that the Nintendo 64 shouldn't have been fried. I didn't understand, though, why cutting a controller cord caused such a power surge as to total the gaming console. As it turns out, there was an answer for that, too. Joe's Nintendo 64 plugged into a power strip. In that power strip was also plugged a TV, a Super Nintendo, a fan, and a game boy charger. That power strip was plugged into another power strip, which housed a similarly full array of devices. That power strip was plugged into a single socket which stemmed from the garage door motor, and the collection of strips dangled from the ceiling like an eerie skeleton hung in a closet. The resulting monstrosity was so fragile in its wiring that one link anywhere in the chain (in this case, a controller plugged into the Nintendo 64) was enough to cause a veritable grenade explosion inside the tubes, with the Nintendo 64 valiantly diving on top to save its electrical brethren.

The moral of this story, kids, is don't plug too many things into a single socket outlet. Otherwise, idiot kids will come over with garden shears and break everything, and you'll only have yourselves to blame.

Barry Bonds: Dreamcrusher

2011-07-06T05:00:00.000-07:00

When I was about 10 or so years old, I was a member of Foster City Little League. I was on the Cardinals; a AAA team with my newfound friend, Trevor. The league held a contest, as they did in other years, to sell tickets to a San Francisco Giants game. The league got a portion of the ticket sales, and the Giants kicked in prizes for the highest sellers. Trevor and I pooled our collective sales and won that contest by selling 125 tickets to that game; pretty remarkable when I look back on it, but really most of the credit goes to my parents. We each won a bat autographed by Shawn Dunston and, along with the eight other highest selling kids, got to go down to the field before a Giants game to get autographs during batting practice.

I had a blast. Each of the players that took practice graciously came over and signed autographs for us and took pictures. I remember kids yelling out the name of each player that came over to talk to us, and I remember Stan Javier giving me the bat he cracked during practice (what a nice guy; I still have that bat, Stan.) I remember one other thing from that day; Barry Bonds dodging us. While we were getting the autograph of the aforementioned Shawn Dunston, Bonds snuck in behind us, into the locker room, to continue his pregame. In the video of that day that my Mom took, you could actually see Bonds sneaking in behind us, and me catching a quick glimpse of it. I look back on that now and try to think of what was going through his head; I guess he didn't want to deal with the kids that day. It was a pretty jerkish move, for sure.

That said, I think a lot of people take this sort of stuff into account when evaluating players like Barry Bonds athletic ability. Barry will be coming up for Hall of Fame Eligiblity soon enough, and he almost certainly won't get in now, and quite possibly ever. There's a fair case against him that he did steroids, and I can at least buy the argument for that. Unfortunately, though, I think the fact that Barry Bonds was not a real likable guy clouds people's judgment. The thought that Barry Bonds is not one of the greatest players of all time is patently ridiculous; he's verifiably the greatest hitter of all time, and only the second best player of all time because Babe Ruth was also an above average pitcher for half of his career.

This isn't a quality exclusive to Barry Bonds; I hear people talk about other athletes the same way. So and So is holding back the team because he doesn't have a winner's heart, etc. You might also hear them called a Clubhouse Cancer. The idea is that their jerkishness outweighs their ability to put runs on the scoreboard, or whatever the applicable stat is for said sport. I find it really hard to believe that someone could be a big enough jerk to make the greatest hitter of all time not valuable to a team.

What this boils down to, for me, is that athletes shouldn't be role models. We need to stop looking up to professional athletes as anything but excellent physical specimens when they don't care to be anything more than that. Some athletes do try to be more than just athletes, and in such cases, awesome. Many athletes, though, such as Bonds, just want to be awesome baseball players. I think that's just fine. We even have an awards show and museum dedicated to such players. The idea that people think he should be kept out of such a museum because he was a jerk seems pretty irrelevant, and this is coming from a guy who basically had his dreams crushed by Bonds.

Any professional writers that have a hall of fame vote out there? Vote Bonds. I don't like the guy from the one encounter I had, but he's too good of a baseball player to not be in the Hall of Good Baseball Players. We don't even need an asterisk or any such nonsense; everyone knows that Barry Bonds played in the steroids era, and if you think he did steroids, then you don't need an asterisk to tell you that. Heck, vote McGuire, Palmeiro, Rose, Jackson, and just about anyone else who is being barred for such things. We need to take the era for what it is. Plaques of players from 1890 don't have asterisks for dead balls, lack of black opposition, or anything else. We don't need this arbitrary steroid talk keeping these great ballplayers from earning their due respect.

Near-Death Experiences and Baseball

2011-06-29T05:00:00.000-07:00

I have a lot of memories of A's games. I can remember walking down the aisle to check out the seats I would have all season in 2006 (I won them in a card-game tournament.) I remember seeing Justin Duchscherer throwing a no hitter into the 8th inning. I think my earliest memory though, along with my most traumatic one, came from when I was younger than ten years old.

I can't even precisely remember the year, to be honest. I was a kid, and that's all I remember. It was my parents' anniversary and they decided to go to an A's game and let me tag along. Perhaps back in the day my parents alternated anniversary activities every year and it was my Dad's turn. Perhaps also my parents rotated which kid would accompany them on said activities. Regardless, I was at an A's game with my parents. It was a beautiful weekend day during late June, and I was just a little kid enjoying the game. Like most kids, I probably had no real idea what was going on in the game, other than I wanted to see the A's win and a lot of balls to go over the fence. As I contemplated the complexities of the game, I leaned in to get some soda out of the cup. After taking a sip, I leaned back into my seat. Mere moments after I put the soda back into its cup, a baseball sent from the heavens decided I should be content with the amount of soda I'd already consumed, and flew down right into the soda cup.

We sat there perplexed. Where did the ball come from? It didn't come from the field; we obviously would have noticed that. It must have come from above. We were sitting along the first base long about 20 rows back or so. Maybe someone had dropped it from above? Man, that would be some rough beats. I mean, dropping a ball from that high onto a kid's head could seriously hurt him; we're talking at least 100 feet or so. There's no way whoever did that would show their face. We hadn't taken into account, though, that the mind who would lose such a ball would probably be just as oblivious to the consequences of such an action. Suddenly, a young child not too much older than myself came down asking for the baseball back. He didn't fool around with pleasantries; he simply asked for his ball back. The logic probably all worked out in his mind.

It did not work out in my Mom's mind, though. She lost it on that poor kid, and with good reason. She almost saw her child's head get seriously hurt by a stray baseball tossed down by a goofy kid, and now this kid had the gall to come asking for the ball back without so much as a "Whoops, my bad, bro." She let the kid know what she thought of the whole situation; how dangerous it was to let a ball fly like that, why he should apologize, and the huevos it must have taken to come down there and ask. After giving him that lecture, I believe she ended up giving him the ball back. She got her peace of mind, I got to keep my head, and that kid got his ball back. Like any good Mom, at the very least I know I can count on her to go to bat for me, in the face of overwhelmingly oblivious children hellbent to leather on allowing my head to be caved in. Thanks, Mom.

I Stink at Fighting Games

2011-06-22T05:00:00.000-07:00

In lieu of a new post this week, I'll simply point you to minute 51 of this video, wherein I get to be on internet TV. Here's the short version:

1) This is my third fighting game tournament. There's typically one match at a time being streamed to the internet for people to watch and take potshots at. This is my first time being given such treatment.

2) I get matched up a well known pro player, who is the primary impetus for this match being streamed.

3) I'm playing the sumo wrestler, and the game is Super Street Fighter IV: Arcade Edition.

4) The announcers simply refer to me as "some white guy" because they don't know me.

5) I don't do too well.

Enjoy!

Watch live video from IPLAYWINNER on Justin.tv

A Letter to Bud Selig

2011-06-15T05:00:00.000-07:00

Hello Mr. Selig,

My name is Andrew Patrick. I'm 25 years old and I live in Foster City, California. I've grown up my entire life rooting for, attending games, listening to, and following my beloved Oakland A's.

I write to you today to plead the case for the A's stadium. I was just three years old when the A's won the World Series in 1989, so its safe to say I have no recollection of the A's winning it all. Since then, I've witnessed the ups and downs of the Bash Brothers years, Rickey Henderson, The Big Three, Eric Chavez, Frank Thomas, and everything in between. I've loved going to games at the Oakland Network Associates/McAfee/Overstocked.com Colosseum, and some of my best memories are of that stadium. That said, the stadium is no longer fit for the dynasty which it houses. The Oakland A's are too storied of a franchise to waste away in a stadium with a closed upper deck, an outfield ravaged by a football team, and none of the modern luxuries other teams enjoy. Every year that goes by, as the team tries to repair its struggling offense, another Free Agent spurns the team because of the awful stadium situation and the waning fan base that it begets. With the lack of big free agents, the team loses more fans, and the vicious cycle continues, as it will, until the unthinkable happens.

Two years ago you set up a committee to look into the issue; the viability of Oakland, San Jose, and all surrounding areas. I applauded your resolve and determination to help sort out this very complicated issue. Since then, I have yearned for the day to hear your conclusions and to hear what the fate of my beloved A's would be. I have waited, and waited, for some sort of tangible plan to stop this cycle which prevents our team from taking the necessary steps to improve the on field product. Now is the time for action, Mr. Selig. Every day that goes by without resolution on this issue further condemns this team to mediocrity, a declining fan base, and reduced profits. The tepid waters we lay in hurts the league as a whole, as it has already caused nigh irreparable damage to the reputation of a team which, especially after the Giants' recent world championship, plays second fiddle in the area.

I implore you, sir, to please hasten your decision and devote as much of your time and resources as possible to find a solution. Every day is precious to this team and this problem, and you have the power to stop this nonsense from continuing. I eagerly await your decision, and long for the day when my team can play in a stadium which suits their legacy.

Respectfully yours,

Andrew Patrick

New Satisfaction

2011-06-08T05:00:00.000-07:00

God's done a lot for me over the years; understatement of infinity. One of the more tangible things I've noticed recently is how much happier I am when things go poorly at the end of the day. Just the other day, for instance, circumstances went awry. I was sent home from work early without pay because there was nothing to do, my TV broke, and I was given a jury summons. That said, I can't say I was cursing the world or panicking, as I would have done in years past. To be honest, I felt a little bit of bad luck, but I just sort of shrugged and went on with my day each time. The question is: Is this because God's plan has given me different standards for happiness, or because my emotions have dwindled in general since my depression in High School?

If you're an avid reader, you know about my depression in High School. For that time period, and a few years following it, bad times would get me real down. Whenever something went abnormally awful, I'd beat myself up inside. I'd focus on the things I was trying and failing at, and would magnify them to the point that I'd consider myself the nut low. I'd surround myself with depressing music, push the world out, and then victimize myself to the point that nothing seemed to be my fault. This would happen when I got bad grades, if I didn't get invited to a party (even those I didn't want to go to,) etc.

These days, though, that rarely happens. Even on days when something beats me to the point of self-indulgent pity, it only lasts the night. I always wake up infinitely refreshed and satisfied in God's plan. I remember that, as a Christian, I don't have to prove myself to anyone. My identity is not my own. When God made me, he made me the way I am for a reason. He purposefully put every hair on my head, and gave me the gifts and faults I have so that I could serve a very unique purpose in his Kingdom. When Jesus died for me, he went on that cross to show the world that he's my identity now. He knew I'd screw up, but he wanted me to lean on him and let the world decide my worth by what he's done.

I don't think that a lessened sense of self-pity is caused by an overall numbness in my spirit. Rather, I believe my emotions have been heightened by God's love, and furthermore they've been put on a different scale, so that I can't punish myself too much for my own faults. When Satan tempts me into thinking that I've screwed up God's plan, God's always right there to correct that lie. I'm not quite sure what I'd do without God; I'd probably be living a much more, fitting a theme here, pitiful life. Thank goodness God is here.

My Siblings' Music

2011-06-01T05:00:00.000-07:00

Growing up as the youngest kid of four has its ups and downs. The downs are that you're constantly thought of as the baby, you're expected to remember your siblings' friends whom you haven't seen since you were four years old, and you always have to sit in the middle on long road trips. The ups are that you get to hang out with, and ask advice from, a lot of people. You also get the trickle down benefits: clothes, toys, etc. One of the greatest gifts my siblings have given me is my taste in music.

I had to share a room with my brother for many years, was babysat by my oldest sister for just as many, and drove to/from school with my other sister nearly my whole young adult life. Having these people above me meant one thing above all else; I had to acquiesce to their taste in music. Whenever I was in their car, room, cheerleading practice, birthday party, or whatever, I had to listen to whatever music they wanted to listen to. This resulted in me growing to like a pretty eclectic selection.

I could tell you about the pool party where Sarah's friends taught me the hand signs for 2 Legit 2 Quit. Or I could tell you about the time that I asked my brother, totally ignorantly, what his ONYX tape "BACDAFUCUP" meant (he wouldn't tell me, and I was angry.) I could tell you of the many times I pleaded with Stephanie to put on something, anything, other than another Steven Malkmus or Pavement album. The fact of the matter is though that these weird moments helped shape my tastes as an adult. I remember a friend of mine I was driving with once was amazed at how I seemed to know the words to every song that came on the radio, and I explained to her that this is what happens when you are forced to listen to everything that is on the radio; you grow to like most of it.

While I can't say I've gone out and bought any of the albums my siblings loved, I will say that there are certain things I've made my own. Since Stephanie was around, I was able to steal her copy of The Bends by Radiohead and never get it back, and it still is an album I listen to fairly often. If Doug wasn't around, I never would have become interested in Hip Hop, and would have never been turned on to some of my favorite acts, like The Roots. Arguably the greatest contribution though came from Sarah; because of her girlish love for George Michael, I was introduced to Faith, which I absolutely kill with at Karaoke Night. Thanks guys.

Groundings and Gauntlets

2011-05-25T05:00:00.000-07:00

I wasn't the best student for most of High School. I skated on ability for a good chunk of my time there, and that meant I didn't do well. The first three years I was there I would not do well the 1st semester, and then in the first grading period of the second semester, my progress report would be awful. My parents would ground me then until my grades came up. My Freshman year of High School, when this occurred, I had already pre-ordered a game called Gauntlet: Dark Legacy. After it arrived, I was forced to let it sit on my cabinet, taunting me, until the day my grades were better. It sat there for about a month, then one weekend, I proved to my parents that my grades were getting better. I brought in test scores from a number of classes to show them how well I had been doing, and as a reward, they suspended the grounding for a weekend. I had a mission to beat that game within the confines of the weekend.

Gauntlet: Dark Legacy was a revamped version of the old Gauntlet games from the 80s. You have a man, and you're in a dungeon, and your goal is to get to the end without dying. Along the way, monsters spew forth endlessly out of monster generators, and the only way to stop them is to destroy the generators. You accomplish this by hitting it with your sword, the same sword you use to hit the monsters. Along the way you can pick up food to increase your life, which, in the old games, was constantly decreasing even when you weren't being attacked. This served to keep the quarters flowing in the arcade machines, and frustrate home users. The game is famous for its voiceovers which informed the user of what was occurring, such as the famous "Wizard needs food badly."

So I called my buddy Kevin and told him of the ceasefire, and we plopped our butts down for some marathon gaming. Joe should have been included, but he was away for the weekend, and this was a one time deal I couldn't afford to blow. For my character I chose the Knight, and the color Blue. Kevin chose the Green Jester. We played that game for at least 12 hours each day. We played it when it was fun, and when it wasn't fun.

You see, there comes a time with every hobby when it just becomes not fun anymore. We knew that our time with the game was limited, so we knew we had to beat it. In order to beat it, we had to do some pretty tedious things; finishing a level multiple times in order to get every collectible, namely. I have distinct memories of us getting angry at each other for not fulfilling our roles adequately. By the time we finished it, we wanted nothing to with it. That game, in all of its simplistic glory, had served its purpose.

The victim in all of this was Joe. When he got back, he was ready to play the game, as he too had been patiently waiting his turn. Unfortunately, though, we had nothing to offer. Sitting down and playing that game only brought out disgust from Kevin and me. We would play for 15 minutes, and after that, we were done. The memories of grinding away at the game until we found its juicy, unfulfilling core, flooded us. We were done, and Joe to this day is angry at us.

7th Saga: Or the Day I Bested my Dad

2011-05-18T05:00:00.000-07:00

Growing up, the man crew in my house went through Role Playing Games pretty quickly. Between the three of us we covered a pretty wide swath of random medieval themed adventures of random names. We played Dungeon Magic, Sword of Vermilion, Landstalker; you name it. One of the games that gave me a great story, though, was 7th Saga.

Yeah, you heard that right: shout outs to 7th Saga! 7th Saga was a game on the Super Nintendo where you chose between one of seven heroes on a quest with a large bounty. Along the way, you could team up with the other characters you didn't choose, and even had to fight them along the way. Your options included a Knight, a Cleric, a Wizard, a Robot, a Demon, a Dwarf, and an Alien. It was unique in that it was a linear progression game but your character choice dramatically changed the storyline along the way. For a Super Nintendo RPG, it was pretty neat. When we got it (from who knows where; Flea Market is my guess) my Dad and I were playing the game at the same pace. He was playing as Kamil, the Human Knight. A solid choice; Kamil could heal a little bit, attack a little bit, defend a little bit, and all around was the most well balanced of the seven characters. A very well educated pick. I, on the other hand, was nine years old, and so I chose the mighty robot TETSUJIN. I'm not capitalizing his name for emphasis; his name was always capitalized in the game for whatever reason, while other text was not. Tetsujin was a tank that didn't care for chat. He wanted power, and he wanted you out of his way; obviously I found him to be the coolest.

One day, my Dad came to me with a problem. He had finished a certain dungeon three times now, and every time he finished and came to the next town, the evil alien Wilme was waiting to kill him. In order to get into the Inn and thus rest/save the game, Dad had to beat Wilme. Every time he did, though, Wilme would pound his brains in. Dad couldn't figure it out. I made a bold claim at that point; I would defeat the evil Wilme. My dad scoffed. There's no way I could beat Wilme--I was just a kid. In times when Dad couldn't do things, the only solution was to work harder and level up more; not just to keep banging one's head against the wall and expect different results. A rational line of thinking, but he forgot who he was dealing with. My Dad went so far as to offer up a whole dollar in the incredibly ridiculous event that I actually defeated Wilme.

So I took him up on it. My dad finished the dungeon as he had done so many times in the past, and Wilme waylaid my path. Wilme certainly was formidable. He came with a quick, steady onslaught of attacks. Where my Dad though, would pause his attack and try to heal his wounds, I continued pressing the A button on the Attack option. I knew that Wilme's offense would always outpace my defense, as it had always done with my Dad, so I just figured I'd give stupidly constant offense a shot. I think you can guess what happened next:

Wilme was defeated, and Dad sat there in shock. I subtly reminded him of the bounty he had placed upon Wilme's head, and he, mouth agape, sauntered into his room to procure my Washington. That was the first time I had proved myself better than my Dad in anything, and say what you want, I thought it was a big step in my development, right along with the time I beat Metal Man after my brother had failed multiple times in a row. Thanks again Wilme, you stupid, stupid Alien.

Games that Influenced Me: Street Fighter II

2011-05-11T05:00:00.000-07:00

The Super Nintendo system was the first big purchase of my life. I saved up my non-existent allowance for months; I didn't ask for anything. Once my parents realized that I was saving up for something, they started keeping track of how long I had saved for. I think I saved my money for about six months in order to buy a Super Nintendo (give or take a few months; I honestly had no idea how much anything costed back then.) Once I did make my purchase, my brother, Doug, made his own purchase. One of the first games we ever owned for the new system was the breakthrough game that legitimized the "Fighting Game" genre: Street Fighter II.

Street Fighter II has very little to do with fighting on the streets. While there are streets, and there is fighting, the people that do said fighting are rather legendary. They throw fireballs out of their hands, they jump 20 feet into the air during suplexes, they teleport around the boundaries, and their limbs stretch to three body lenghts at will. This is obviously all ignored, or even embraced, by the youngsters who are playing the game, because to us real fighting was boring. Heck, I did that from time to time with my brother or other kids, and it just ended with me getting grounded.

I do remember the day that my brother brought the game home. Unbeknownst to me, the game was rather familar to him. He had already played for many an hour at friends houses, or more likely, The Tilt. The Tilt was a gigantic arcade housed inside the old Fashion Island Mall. I wasn't allowed to go to The Tilt when I was young; Mom said that gangs hung out there. Admittedly, all arcades house a certain amount of seedy activities due to how dark and impersonal they are, so she was probably right to some extent. Regardless, the day my brother bought the game, he immediately set it to its hardest difficulty. The difficulty meter in the game would make the computerized opponents more intelligent depending on how high you set it; sort of like how in chess you can set it to make really stupid moves, or you can set it to be a grand master a la Bobby Fisher. Doug blasted that baby up to Level 7 Hard and beat it without flinching, and then just left to go to his baseball game.

I was floored. It took me about a month just to beat it at level 5; to see Doug beat it right after buying the game at its hardest difficulty was art in action. I remember going to his baseball game later (I was too young to stay at home by myself) and bragging to the other kids that my brother had beaten the game on Level 7 Hard. Doug was the epitome of cool in my mind; the thing I wanted to do, he was "da best" at. My brother is seven years older than me. We shared a room together until my sister went to college, which was up until I entered Jr. High basically. A lot of my early wisdom was shaped around what my brother told me. I learned from him that if I failed at something while another person was talking that it wasn't my fault, but rather that "You broke my concentration." I also remember that I wasn't allowed to pronounce the name of the ONYX tape he owned, "BACDAFUCUP" even though it wasn't a word (Doug just told me not to say it; even though I had no idea what it meant.)

That day though, the day he beat the game at its most difficult, Doug was the best. He could've done anything in my mind. He could've leapt off the Eiffel Tower and lived and I wouldn't have been surprised. Doug had beaten Street Fighter II on Level 7 Hard; everything else paled in comparison. I wonder if this image will be stuck in my mind of what Doug means to me: "Brother, Friend, Destroyer of Level 7 Hard." That needs to be on a plaque in his room one day.

My World Ended with my Presidents' Tape

2011-05-04T05:00:00.000-07:00

I was exposed to a pretty liberal music selection growing up. My parents listened to classic rock mostly and 60's style Rhythm and Blues; my oldest sister listened to Pop; my brother listened to rap and hip hop; my other sister listened to indie rock. As such, I listened to pretty much anything that was catchy. I believe I bought my first album when I was four years old. It was "Full Moon Fever" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. It was a great album. My second album, like many kids my age, was Weird Al Yankovic's "Bad Hair Day." It was a great album. My third album, and the one that struck the best chord with me, was The Presidents of the United States of America's "II."

I loved this album. To this day I could recite every word of it and karaoke your brains out. It contained the hit singles "Volcano" and "Mach 5" as well as personal favorites "Toob Amplifier" and "Twig." I think a lot of people have an album like this; maybe it was "Hit me Baby One More Time," or "Waterfalls," or "I Just Called to Say I Love You." The defining trait of this was that this was the moment you knew you loved music, and this was the album that defined you. Some kids are blessed enough to have this album come to them when they're 3 or 4 years old; those kids probably grew up to be musicians, especially if it was a Hendrix or Al Green album. This is the album you listened to endlessly until your parents caved and bought you a pair of headphones, at which point you simply sat next to the stereo listening until your ears bled. And as such did my ears bleed.

I loved it. I listened to it off this old stereo my Grandpa had given me from the stone age, but somehow still had stereo sound and a bass system that could blow the cat down off the second story balcony (true story: it once did.) I shared a room with my brother at the time, so what time I had that he didn't want the stereo to himself I treasured. I'd sit there and listen, staring off into space wondering how such angelic chords could be discovered by mortals. I had the album on tape, so after each play, I'd have to flip the tape over in order to listen to the rest of it. I remember years later I found a copy of the album, but I couldn't name off which songs I liked, because I never learned the names of the songs. I didn't have iTunes to tell me what song I was listening to; I just knew track 5 was the bomb. One fateful day, though tragedy struck.

I was listening to the album for the 718293313rd time, when all of a sudden, the pace picked up. "I will survive, in my machfive, INMYMACHFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE" POOF. Mid chorus, the tape had exploded. I guess the wear and tear the old stereo had caused on the flimsy tape film had finally become too much, and I slammed down the stop/eject button a moment too late. All I found was a garbled mess of film that, even when rewound back in, wouldn't play. I was heartbroken; crestfallen. I remember going to school the next day as one sad panda. I confided in my friend, Daniel Ferrera, that my tape had been eaten and barfed back up to me in a state befitting the verb. Daniel, though, was a good friend. He lived literally right next to school, so he sprinted home, obtained his copy of The Presidents' self titled album, and handed it to me with no hesitation. He told me he wanted me to stop being sad, and that this would help. I told him I appreciated the gesture, but nothing could console the sadness that remained in the black void where my heart once sat. Nothing.

Except this. I listened to it when I got home, got hooked, and was totally fine the next day. This just goes to show you folks; sometimes when kids are depressed, their just inconvenienced. Shout outs to Daniel for knowing exactly what I needed, and shout outs to POTUSA for giving me the inspiration to go on with life.

Bikes on Christmas

2011-04-27T05:00:00.000-07:00

I think, or at least hope, everyone has a story of when they were a little kid and they got something really cool as a gift. I remember when I was growing up, it took me a really long time to learn to ride a bike. My Dad always got frustrated trying to teach me, since I was too scared to stay on and not crash, he didn't have much patience for it. My sister ended up teaching me (thanks Steph!) but I remember it not being until around 2nd grade I think. The bike I learned on was not very impressive. It was a little red huffy with Batman stickers that I don't think I personally put on. Huffys weren't exactly the talk of the town when I was growing up, and I was quickly outgrowing the bike. That year was one of the few times a video game didn't top my Christmas list; I wanted a new bike.

I remember that morning. Being the youngest child, my job was "Santa." This didn't mean I had to give people gifts while they slept, but rather that I had the job of passing out everyone's gifts to them. I'm blessed with a great family. My parents didn't do too much on birthdays, but they really went all out on Christmas. With six people in the house and a set of higher ups that loved the holiday, the space under the tree was overflowing. I had to sort through every gift one by one and pass them out to the people, who added them to their pile. Once the gifts were passed out, we all started our flurry of opening. Often times things would get lost in the shuffle of joy, and I was guilty too. I blitzed through the boxes of clothes, ravaged through cards, etc. I wanted that bike. When I got to the end of the gifts, they were all nice, but there was no bike.

I didn't know what to feel. Why didn't I get the bike? Why couldn't these gifts have been conglomerated into the bike? What the heck, Mom and Dad? This was ridiculous. There was no excuse. I think I was so flabbergasted I didn't know what to think. My Dad had the audacity to tell me to pass out gifts when he knew I wouldn't get what I wanted. What a jerk.

"Andy, could you go turn off the coffee maker?"

Oh geez, now he wants me to turn off the coffee maker. Its not enough that I spent all morning slaving away passing out happiness to others, now I had to run errands for him. Nice Christmas. My Dad barely drank coffee anyway, why did he turn on the maker now, and why couldn't he do it himself? This was the worst Christmas ever. Begrudgingly, I got up and walked towards the kitchen, past the couch my Dad sat on.

There it was. It was a Swish Shimano, if I remember correctly. It had six speeds, and felt like a dream. My Dad somehow had sneaked it behind the couch; maybe it had been there the whole time, maybe it hadn't. I don't know. I reveled in the moment; my parents hadn't abandoned me to despair. I didn't have to ride the junky huffy through the streets anymore. I could ride my bike to school with pride. Then I realized what I had to do. I had to turn off the coffee maker for my Dad. My Dad came through for me, so I had to come through for him. When I arrived though, I found the coffee maker had never been turned on in the first place.

"Dad, the coffee maker isn't on."

With a face I'll remember the rest of my life, my Dad seemed to both smirk and sigh at my total ignorance at the same time.

"Yes, I know son."

Diablo II and My First All-Nighter

2011-04-20T05:00:00.000-07:00

I didn't play a lot of PC games when I was a kid. We always had consoles, and even offbeat stuff like The Sega Channel (Shoutouts to TCI Cable.) The few games I did play on PC were too slow for my young mind. That all changed when Diablo II came out. Diablo II's gameplay is the epitome of "simple, yet effective." Your goal is to kill the big bad demon at the end of the game, and en route you kill a bunch of smaller demons. You do this by left clicking your man around the world with the mouse, and right clicking on enemies to use a certain skill. Its really not that much more advanced than that. When we got Diablo II, I was hooked pretty fast.

Diablo II came out in the summer going into my Freshman year of High School. I had recently become re-acquainted with two of my best friends, Joe and Kevin, and we all decided to play the game "together." I quote this word because online play back then was somewhat primitive, and so most of the game was actually done in single player sessions, which would be verbally explained whenever we got together (which was almost every day that summer.) When we did decide to play online, it was often buggy, and we wouldn't always be at the same point in the game, so if you were more advanced in the game, then you spent your time helping the others along.

I distinctly remember the first time we decided to play at night. My parents had forbid me from playing video games past 10 PM, so I had to use alternate means. I went to sleep at 9:30 or so, and lied in my bed waiting for the right time. My parents went to sleep around 10:45 or so, and I was ready. I had kept the door cracked the entire night waiting for the light to turn off. I knew I had to wait until they finished brushing their teeth and all that, so it was all a very tense affair. Eventually I felt confident enough sneaking downstairs, where the computer was, and getting it going. I had to remain basically silent the entire night. I couldn't even chance wearing headphones, as it would mean I wouldn't be able to hear my parents waking up unexpectedly. I played in near silence that whole night. I think the biggest struggle was containing my giggling. I was on an adrenaline high that whole night, and Joe and Kevin are funny guys even in text, so playing the entire night like that was quite possibly the thrill of my life. Like all good things, it had to end. At 4 AM or so, I called it quits. When my friends asked me why, I told them that my Dad was going to wake up soon (he's an early riser) and I was supposed to be asleep 6 hours ago. I sneaked back up to my room, put the covers over, and went to sleep without anyone the wiser.

The next morning, I was rudely awakened by Kevin. The three of us had sort of an unspoken rule to not initiate contact before at least 10 AM so that we could sleep in/etc. Nonetheless, bright and early at 7 AM, a mere three hours later, Kevin arrived. I was pretty angry. Did he not remember the night of glee we'd just had? Why violate this law on this day, of all days? It turned out Kevin hadn't broken any creeds. It was 2 PM. I was so tired from my first all nighter I could barely see straight. I knew I had to wake up though; sleeping in any longer would be even more suspicious. I zombie'd myself down the stairs only to be greeted by my Mom happily wondering why I was so tired. I calmly explained to her that the rigors of being a 13 year old in the Foster City Summer are very stressful, and this had been a long week. Amazingly, no more questions were asked. I left the house with the hopes of rejuvenating myself by the sun, and reveling in my accomplishment.

I tried the same thing a couple weeks later and got caught. I think I tried too many things; I left a light on, I used a little sound, I giggled a lot. My Mom caught me, sent me immediately to bed, and I don't think I ever tried it again. Some people ask how one can stay up all night playing video games, and the fact of the matter is that I might as well have been playing tiddlywinks all night; I was having an adventure, and I was doing it with my friends. The simplistic game of Diablo II was just a medium. Even though the punishment I received later scared me away for a long time of doing it again, at least I got a story out of it.

Another Reason I'm Weird: Shoeless Running

2011-04-13T05:00:00.000-07:00

I've talked a lot about my old playin days. Like any good grizzled veteran (or someone who likes to think of themselves as such) I've got my war stories. Few, if any, are better than the day I ran the 2 mile championship at League Finals. Let's recap.

At this point I already didn't really like running, and the 2 mile wasn't my best race. Running the 2 mile was the safety school for competitive running for me; if I didn't make it to the sectional meet in the 1 mile, I would at least make it in the 2 mile. The meet that day was at Sequoia High School if I remember correctly. The track was nice; brand new I believe. The 2 mile doesn't start the same as sprint races. In a sprint, the runners are in what's called a "Staggered Start" where each runner takes their own lane and their starting point is slightly adjusted to compensate for the longer curves they may have to run. Distance runs on the track use a "Waterfall Start" or what I like to call a "Ghetto Stagger." Instead of running in heats of 8 with everyone in their own lane, they just smush everyone into the same race and have them stagger as best they can. The formation ends up just being sort of an upward slope, or a waterfall formation, as being on the outside only gets you maybe a step or two in front of the inside lane.

I was somewhat in the middle of the pack. There was a tier of runners that were flat out better than me; two guys from Menlo Atherton and two twin brothers from Carlmont were in that tier, but I think I had a chance to beat anyone else in that race. As the whistle blew in that race there was a lot of jockeying for position. You start out on a curve, so everyone is breaking inwards to lessen the distance on the curve. You're supposed to wait until you have a full stride on the gentleman next to you before you broke in, but this rule gets violated in the beginning. Everyone is so desperate to get away from the outside but not be boxed in by slower runners in the inside that there ends up being a lot of elbowing and such. This isn't intentional for the most part, but it happens. As I come around the turn, someone near me stepped on the back of my foot, flat tiring me. This isn't normally a huge deal; with all the bodies flying around I've had my shoe stepped on before. Unfortunately this flat tire was so severe that it caused my foot to come right out of my shoe.

This wasn't good. As my family can attest to, I wasn't the best about tying my shoes growing up; heck, I didn't even learn to tie my shoe until I was in second grade. I remedied this in sports though, and danged if that shoe wasn't a full triple knot with authority. That knot was specifically designed to not be undone by mortal hands. You ever fear you stepped in something en route to the office, and you spend the rest of the walk there scraping your foot on the ground in the hopes of getting whatever it is off? I basically did a more pronounced version of that maneuver the rest of the first lap. I probably looked like I had no business running in that race with such bad form, and it didn't help. I came around for the end of lap 1 in just as sorry of a state as I was in earlier. The shoe was a nuisance at this point. I couldn't let it just hang there for the remaining seven laps. I had two options.

1) Stop. Untie the shoe (maybe with a needle or something?) Put the foot back in. Re-tie the shoe. Keep going.

As we've discussed, this would take a very long amount of time. There's no way I'm getting that shoe untied in less than a minute, much less putting my foot in and re-tying it aptly (I'm still not great at tying shoes.) This just wasn't viable. I had to go with option 2:

2) Forget the dang shoe. I have races to run.

As I came around to the last straight of the first lap, my coach was equally as confused as I was. I pointed to the shoe, used my AYSO training to kick that shoe into the infield at my poor, beleaguered mentor, and kept running. I figured I've got soul; I didn't need sole! I ran that race with one shoe. Boy, let me tell you, I looked as stupid as you think I did. I could visibly see laughs from the side, and couldn't get my mind off of how dumb I looked. You know what the nutty thing about it was?

I ran my best two mile that day.

Call it nerves; call it undue stress from past experiences; call it whatever you want. The fact of the matter is that I ran my best race that day, and I've never run two miles that fast since. My foot finished the race looking like Mr. Deeds', and my coach used that tale as an inspirational/motivational story for a while afterwards when people complained of soreness. In the midst of all the intense competition, that moment will always stay with me. It may have been the stupidest I've ever felt in a race, but at least I got a story out of it.

Another Reason I'm Weird: Ted Lilly

2011-04-06T05:00:00.000-07:00

I've met a fair amount of celebrities in my life. I worked my way through college waiting tables, and occasionally we would get someone of note coming in to eat. I've met athletes, musicians, dignitaries, actors, and thoroughly embarrassed myself around at least 80% of them. I don't think any such encounter was more awkward though than when I met Ted Lilly.

I was living in Davis. I went out to have breakfast with a good friend of mine named Jordan; I think it was on a weekday in October or November. As we walked to our table at the Davis IHOP, I passed by a man and got that jolt inside my head. You know that feeling when you recognize something, but you can't put your finger on where its from? This hit me hard. As we sat down, I asked my friend a question and didn't listen to the response unfortunately (I apologize, by the way, Jordan.) As he talked, I began rummaging through my mental archives to try and figure out from where I knew that face, but I couldn't figure it out. To my great benefit, Jordan suddenly had to take a call, so I was free to ponder without interruption.

There isn't a good way to creepily keep sneaking looks at the guy two tables down in an empty IHOP, but I did it anyway. My nature often compels me to figure such things out before I can go on, so I was determined to figure it out. I went through my mental processes. I figured it had to be someone whose face I saw on a daily basis that I could recognize him out of context at a moment's glance. Was he a friend of the family? No, that wasn't it. Was he a musician? No, I don't look at album covers enough. Was he an actor? No. He was a baseball player! He was Ted Lilly!

I imagine most of you don't know who Ted Lilly is, so let me give you some background. Lilly was a late round draft pick by the Dodgers in 1996, who started with the Expos in 1999, and played for the Expos, Yankees, Blue Jays, Cubs, and most importantly, the A's. Lilly was a member of the starting rotation when the A's made the playoffs in 2002 and 2003, and I was a big fan. Lilly is somewhat the epitome of "Solid but unspectacular." He'll probably never win the Cy Young, but he's a good #2 starter, or a great #3 starter. Every winning team needs a Ted Lilly to be a rock of consistency when the team scuffles. Combine my love of the A's with a recent pension for picking him up in my Fantasy Baseball leagues, and I knew it was him. I quickly looked him up on what primitive version of the internet my Motorola RAZR phone had, and confirmed my suspicions.

Just then, Jordan came back in, and I told him what I had figured out. Jordan, not being much of a baseball fan, thought it was neat, but didn't really care. I, on the other hand, was somewhat freaking out. As you can see from the picture, Ted Lilly is a normal looking guy. He's also a normal acting guy, as I'm not sure how many pro athletes would eat at the IHOP in the offseason. As I pondered these things, he got up to leave with his friends. I jolted myself to an alert status as I had to figure out what to do. Would I introduce myself? Would I simply allow him to go about his day? No, I had to talk to him. I had to absolutely confirm my suspicions. So with a mix of resolve and nerves, I sauntered up to him in the otherwise empty IHOP, and asked him:

Me: Excuse me?

He turned around slowly, with a plain face. "Yes?"

Me: Hi. Umm. This might sound strange, but...are you Ted Lilly?

Him: "Yeah, how's it going."

It wasn't so much of a question as it was a statement. How's it going. He didn't think it was special, even if I did. Unfortunately, I hadn't really thought my cunning plan through past the first step. To use the South Park model, my plan went something like: 1) Inquire about Ted Lilly's Reality. 2) ??? 3) Profit. It wasn't foolproof, but regardless, I had to improvise step 2. There are a number of acceptable follow ups here. "I'm a big fan!" "I followed you when you were on the A's!" "You pitched great this year for the Cubs!" Any of these things are fine. To expect anything of such normality from me, though, is folly. I went with something unique:

"You're on my fantasy baseball team!"

Think about that. The reason I admired him was because his digital presence inflated the numbers of my virtual fake baseball game. To speak nothing of his actual baseball ability, which was good, I instead pointed out how his digital presence was to my profit. It wasn't until a few minutes later, after he quickly excused himself, that I realized how weird that was. You, Ted Lilly, are a great asset. May I shake your hand? Oh, you don't want to join me at my table and enjoy Belgian Waffles? I don't understand, but wish you well anyway.

I don't think a lot of people would recognize Ted Lilly at the Davis IHOP, but leave it to the one guy who does to totally make it a laughable experience. Oh well, at least I got a story out of it.

Games that Influenced me: Dragon Warrior

2011-03-30T05:00:00.000-07:00

I think I was four years old when we got our Nintendo Entertainment System. I should say rather that my brother got his Nintendo Entertainment System, and I simply reaped the benefits. That would make him eleven at the time, and old enough to regularly receive games; this meant I regularly received games. We received two games originally if memory serves; the all star duo of Super Mario Bros/Duck Hunt, and some other game. Mario was a game I could get my noggin around. The little man had to get to the other side of the screen without running into any little monsters. there were only two buttons and a directional pad on the controller, I couldn't screw it up. I have distinct memories of breaking my arm, and holding the duck hunt gun directly touching the TV in order to cheat, and having that not work due to...physics.

That other game though ended up really doing something. My brother apparently discarded the game quickly after he saw it, but ironically my Dad was the one that latched on to it. The story goes that one day when he was too sick to go to work, he fired up the Nintendo to see what all the buzz was about. He tried Mario, but he couldn't keep up; he kept dying on the first level. He wanted to try another game, but the only game we had was Dragon Warrior. For those that don't know, Dragon Warrior is a story of a hero that needs to save the princess, kill the dragon, and save the world. The game might as well have been called Dungeon of the Bad Guy Quest Heroes for how generic it was, but c'est la vie. The gameplay involved you, traversing the world, and occasionally fighting monsters. When you were presented with a battle, you were given a menu, with the options of Fight, Spell, Flee, and Item; pretty self explanatory. As threatening as the monster was in front of you, he was considerate enough to allow you to choose what you wanted to do for an indefinite amount of time before using his own move; it was all very chivalrous. In Mario Bros, the killer Goombas did not wait for you. They walked right into your indecisive behind and punted you right back to the beginning of the level.

My dad was hooked. He could spend as much time as he wanted doing anything he wanted. There was no time limit, no immediate threat, no points. The bad guys were going to kill everyone, but they weren't on a set schedule. You could pound away on the local brigands until you were the greatest fighter in the universe, and they'd still be tapping their feet in their castle, waiting for you to come to them. It was great. When I started playing Dragon Warrior, it was mesmerizing. I could do anything I wanted. I didn't have to follow just this set path or risk dying. Andy could do anything he wanted. You see, in Mario Bros, you play Mario; there's no mistaking who the hero is. In Dragon Warrior, you get to name the hero. My Dad always just picked a name that he liked (I think he used Arnold for a long time for whatever reason,) but my hero was always named Andy. I wanted to be the one who saved the princess, became the strongest, and killed the dragon. Andy was a legend.

Andy could do anything he wanted. If he wanted to spend three hours killing Magidrakees (don't ask) in the mountains without fear of the sun ever going down, he could, and if he wanted to run away from every single battle, he could. I spent more time playing that game than was probably healthy, since with so little direction, I never got anywhere. It took me forever to get through that game, since I couldn't remember what I was supposed to do, where I was supposed to go, or what the heck a princess even was. As you can see by the picture, I couldn't even remember to sleep apparently.

Video games tell stories, yes, but they also draw you in. Just as much as you are controlling a man on screen, you are the man on the screen. That man does nothing without you as the impetus, and you are the one choosing to make the story go forward. Dragon Warrior was amazing as it didn't need grandiose storylines to make it work; as long as the gameplay was fun I could fill in all the details myself. I think my imagination really grew from playing that game; I spent a good chunk of my later childhood writing stories and playing games based off of games like this, since they needed details for the story to work. I hope that I'm taking my life in a similar fashion. I hope I'm doing what it takes to be worthy of being "That guy" rather than just another random talking head on the street. Time will tell I guess.

Renters Keepers

2011-03-23T05:00:00.000-07:00

I don't think I got an allowance when I was a kid. Every now and then I'd get the itch for something, and I'd ask my parents for it. They'd most of the time tell me, no son, you can't have that random thing which costs a bunch of money and will end up just sitting in the garage two days after you buy it. Sometimes I would get a little cash for doing chores, but I didn't really have much to spend it on; I could get free food at the Sea Cloud Snack Shack because my Dad umpired up more store credit than he could ever use. I didn't need video games because my brother would get them, or I'd rent them. Let me tell you about my childhood of renting games.

I lived near Foster City Video, which had a fairly decent selection of video games in the Super Nintendo/Sega Genesis era. When Friday rolled around, my friends who lived in the same complex and I would race immediately to the store after school to rent the game du jour. The typical foursome we had was Zach, Kevin, Joe, and myself. Zach, Kevin and I rode our bikes to school, so we were typically at an advantage over the kids who were driven home from school, thanks to being able to take shortcuts and leave immediately after school. The reason we had to race there was that I was convinced there were at least three other groups of kids in the area that also wanted to rent that game every weekend. If we didn't get there first, we ran the risk of losing it for the weekend. Of even greater concern was the fact that, as a rental, those mystery kids could do anything they liked with it for the weekend, including deleting our save (this was back when save games were kept on the game itself.)

Assuming we successfully got the game in time (which we almost always did, pick your favorite reason why) we'd then race even faster to Zach's house to play. Zach's room was made for entertaining; he and his brother had bunk beds which allowed for more room to spread out. He had a couch, bean bags, and the TV in the room itself. We could comfortably fit up to eight kids in there if we wanted to, but it was usually no more than five. We typically rented Role Playing Games when we had a choice. This way we were able to play the game as a unit, and just have one person decide basically by committee which actions to take (though most of the games were very linear.) With Zach at the helm, we'd all form a peanut gallery watching the entire game unfold, and thus play vicariously

When we'd get a game for the first time, we'd have to name the characters. The hero was always introduced first, and that was always Zach, since it was his house. After that, it was first come first serve. If you happened to be in the room at the time, you'd get a character. I have a distinct memory of Chrono Trigger exhibiting the ruthlessness that followed. Zach got the hero, the frog knight was named after Joe, the Robot was named after me, and Kevin...well, Kevin didn't get a character. I think he was on vacation that week, and we ran out of guy characters. He came back the next weekend only to find us having super awesome fun time with no Kevin characters. At that precise moment, though, we did obtain an airship which could be named, and thus the phrase "Board the Kevin?" was born.

We had many such inside jokes. In fact, I think we probably had more inside jokes than any other circle of friends on the planet. My friends and I were able to turn video games into an inherently social experience through rentals. Instead of fighting over it, we formed a sort of video game rental gang; we'd unite against the mystery others outside our immediate housing circle. Even single player role playing games became a party, as the man at the helm might have seven other people in the room telling him what he should do next. Rental stores aren't really a thing much any more; the age of Netflix, Gamefly and Goozex have put down what little market was there. Unfortunately the group that suffers is my generation. We didn't appreciate rental stores, and now we won't be able to fall back onto the rental when our kids start asking every day for a new game. Let's just keep hoping that our kids are satisfied with OnLive.

Talking is Disruptive

2011-03-16T05:00:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, I talked a lot. My mom tells stories about what a great baby I was; I was fat and slept all the time. I never cried, even when I got my first hair cut. That said, it didn't last long. The moment I was able to talk, I didn't stop. Even now its fairly obvious that storytelling is one of my great passions, and I'm more able to practice it in appropriate places (like a blog.) It wasn't so at the age of four. I pretty much only had my family to talk to, and talk I did. The funny thing was that I didn't really have anything to talk about. When you're four years old and you want to tell stories, its a rather rough spot to be in, since you don't actually have stories. I hadn't lived at all to tell stories from experience, so I did a few things.

1) I recounted comics I had read. I pored over my brother's tomes of Calvin and Hobbes comics, since they seemed relatively well received by the whole family, and I could just tell Watterson's stories without the advantage of art. Too many of my conversations would begin with "Did you read the Calvin and Hobbes where..." and obviously my sister hadn't read it, and would get frustrated as it just wasn't funny to hear from a four year old's mouth. I still have this problem I think, but in this day of age I can just google the thing I want to hear and annoy people with visual aid. This unique experience lead me to a few scant successes here and there, when my tale would get a raucous reception, which spurred me to the next step.

2) I developed schticks. Once I had stumbled upon things that made people laugh, I stuck with them. The one that sticks in my mind was my Sean Connery impression. I actually had little idea who Connery was when I was 8, but the Celebrity Jeopardy sketch with Darrell Hammond impersonating him was silly enough, and I really just impersonated the impersonation. Regardless, I was decent enough at it that my whole family enjoyed it. I reveled in it for a while, until I noticed that it suddenly became the only thing that was funny. Whenever I had worn out my welcome telling bad stories, someone would suggest I do Connery, as a way to redeem myself and end on a good note. Unfortunately it got to the point that it was all I did, and I got bitter whenever people asked me for it, since I felt like it was all anyone ever wanted to hear. This lead on.

3) I stopped telling stories. I still talked, but it was mostly to myself. This was the period when I became a lot more introspective and secluded (read: depressed.) I started to wonder why I didn't have any stories to tell, and it was because I wasn't making any. I was stuck inside the high-school Simple Plan/Blink 182/Etc. mindset of "Why doesn't anyone invite me to anything?" The reality was that I was shutting myself down in order to pity myself. It was a terrible cycle of self inflicted, Godless deprecation, but it was the product of a mindset that wanted experience without experiencing it. God pulled me out of it, and it still evolved.

4) I lived. Its a going concern, but I began doing things which begat the telling of stories. I tried new things; I began playing Dungeons and Dragons; I auditioned for a play; I got a job. I was better at some things than others, but fortunately they had all produced stories. They also allowed me to meet people who had their own stories, and I could learn what they did that let them have such great stories. I'll always remember the ride home in Coach T's car with Joe and Jamil where we did nothing but tell stories of our families and laugh for two hours. Since God has taken over my life, I've begun relying more on the unpredictable, and I've started to become a more tale-worthy man. Obviously I'm not ready for the Autobiography (it'll be short, "First I sucked, then God fixed it") but I feel like I'm getting closer.

Go try something new today. Even if you totally stink, at least you'll get a good story out of it.

Motoichi Matsuo

2011-03-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

I recently joined a baseball simulation league. Its like fantasy baseball, except absolutely everything is fake. All the players are fake, the league is fake, the teams are fake, the games are fake. We simulate 10 games of the 162 season three times a week, and post stories about how are team was developing. This week was the sim for opening day of the 2028 season, and I noticed that the computer brought in my closer to play shortstop in a long game after I ran out of infielders. Here's a little piece I wrote about the fake experience:

The game on Friday, April 7th, 2028 was filled with buzz. It was the first Friday night game of the year, and the Mexico City fans were eager to see their boys trounce the schmucks from the Far East. Los Diablos Rojos had just suffered a humiliating three game sweep at the hands of the growingly powerful Taipei Tigers, and after a day of rest, were hungry to show their Far East brethren what they could do. The Samurai had just been drubbed three games to none by the defending champion Bogota Toros, including a 6 hit shutout at the hands of Jose Gonzalez. The flight from Bogota felt like it took days, with Joe Mitchell complaining about his back. He'd like everyone to think he was spiked at a play at a base, but the doctor said he hurt a herniated disc. "Great, the new guy can't last one week," they all mumbled. Beleaguered, they sloshed into the visitor's dugout and got ready for their game.

With Mitchell out, the lineup seemed to be without much hassle. Defensive whiz Victor Flores took over at short, and everyone else took their usual spots around the diamond. Miguel Colon took his seat on the bench as the lone utility infielder, but he was never without company, as the Samurai struggled to put runs on the board in the early going. Going into the 7th, the score was 3-1 Mexico City, and the Samurai had struggled to convert what few opportunities they had. The air seemed more damp; it was like the team was already saddling up for a long season, and we were only on game 4. Granho lead off with a long flyball that had promise, but died when it hit the depression layer that had settled over the stadium from Tokyo's hopes.

Without warning though, third baseman Mario Sanchez put an end to that, and roped a single up the middle on the first pitch. Sanchez wasn't known for his baserunning by any means, and almost by instinct, Tony Bickford sprinted out to take his place. The red hot Miguel Martinez, who tore through Spring Training and kept his heat alive through the opening days ballista'd a 2-2 pitch to left center, which left the speedy Bickford with little trouble scoring. Suddenly it was 3-2, and Mexico city starter Andres Ramirez was kicking the dirt a lot more than usual. Jack Hamilton worked a six pitch walk, and suddenly the Samurai were down 1, had men on 1st and 2nd, and one out. This was the closest they could get. Without hesitation, Flores was called back to the dugout, and the career minor leaguer Vincent Rice was sent forward. The Samurai couldn't afford to blow this chance.

Unfortunately, Rice proved his skill. He went down swinging on four pitches, and despite a single to left by Tomas Moreno which couldn't slow molasses-footed Martinez, the Samurai failed to score, asJuan Herrera grounded out to end the inning.

"Uhh, Coach?"

"Get out there Vince, we got baseball goin on!"

"I don't have an infielder's glove."

Suddenly panic lurched up the spine of manager Ralph Tsuyoii. Without thinking, the Samurai were without infielders. Mitchell was in no shape to play, and Rice hadn't played the infield since he was 10.

"Get on the horn, tell him to get in there."

"Sir, you don't mean...?"

"Yeah, he's our only shot."

"But sir, you promised his mother..."

"I KNOW WHAT I PROMISED JENKINS. If this team is going to get anywhere, people are going to have to step up. His father would've wanted it this way."

Slowly the bullpen gate opened. The audio team scrambled to find music for a pitching change, but there wasn't a report of a pitching change. The cameras panned in to figure out what was going on. Apparently Tokyo was bringing in their closer, Motoichi Matsuo down by one in the bottom of the 7th. The club scrambled to play his usual entrance music but he wasn't sprinting as quickly as he usually did. He seemed to be taking long strides, like he was stretching out. Even the infielders seemed to be confused. Then it all became clear.

Motoichi Matsuo was brought in to play Shortstop.

With Colon playing 2nd base for Hamilton, the Samurai needed someone to fill in. Matsuo, a pitcher known for his glovework, was taking grounders at short with relative ease. The Mexico City fans and announcers were ruthless. They seemed to laugh in unison at him, until they saw him play. The Samurai hopeful were cringing at first, but then grew comfortable with the situation. They slowly forgot that their closer was playing shortstop and tiring himself out, and the game dragged on. And on. And on. Suddenly it was the 13th inning and Matsuo was still in. He was awful at the plate, but the guy could pick.

The Samurai ended up losing that game. It was a long drawn out affair, and the Samurai finished 0-7 on the week; Matsuo himself 0/2, though with zero errors and one double play. As he left the park, Matsuo trotted back out to shortstop one last time. He picked up some of the dirt, and put it in his pocket. He looked skyward and smiled. He seemed to utter something as a single tear streamed down his cheek.

"I'm sorry."

Geek-Wakening?

2011-02-23T05:00:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, I think I was always a geek to some degree, but I never really realized it. I played a ton of video games, dabbled in arcane stuff like VHS Boardgames, and often wrote stories about stuff like Knights and Dragons. That said, I was also involved in sports nearly year round, I had plenty of friends, and so the geek stereotype never really connected with me. I do have a distinct memory of when it did dawn on me that, perhaps, I was a little more involved with such things than the average kid.

I was in 7th grade. Final Fantasy VIII had just been released and everyone was playing it. Unless you werethe super-jock, then you were playing this game at least because of how hype it was. Day in and day out for the first two weeks or so all the guys would go home, play for an indeterminate amount of time, then come back and talk about how far they had gone in the game. I was always ahead of the guys I talked to, and took some sense of pride in that. For me, I was the most skilled of the normal kids.

One day though, one of the guys brought up Obviously Nerdy Kid A, lets call him Winston. From what I had heard, Winston went home precisely at three o clock, shut himself into his mother's basement, picked up his Cheeto infested controller, and played until he fell asleep. Winston, it was told that day by my friend, was already on Disc Two. Final Fantasy VIII was such an epic tale that it spanned the entirety of four CD-Roms. It was a masterpiece. Winston, that clod, had already plowed his way past Disc One without a care in the world. I scoffed at him. How could he have so few other activities in his life as to already be that far in the game? What a philistine. I went home puffed up on my self righteousness and sat down and played.

And I reached Disc Two within five minutes.

I had to put down the controller for a moment. Should I be proud of this? Ashamed? Did I care? The answer, as you may have guessed by now, was no. I didn't care. I was a little embarrassed that I had made fun of Winston so much, but I was having too much fun to care. I just kept playing the game. Isn't that the defining characteristic of geekdom? When one actively chooses to forsake some cognizance of political correctness and/or public recognition for the sake of personal satisfaction in an activity, they are a geek. I had certainly done that, and the biggest sign of that was how little I cared. I stopped talking about how far I had progressed at school; mostly because we had reached the point when everyone else had stopped playing out of boredom. Clearly, though, that aspect only invigorated my passion for talking, as I sit here writing about geekiness on my blog. Oh, the irony?

Wrong Reasons

2011-02-16T05:00:00.000-08:00

After all the experiences I had the previous year, my Senior year I had learned not to put so much on myself. I dropped most of the difficult honor classes in favor of a less strenuous load which would ensure I would at least graduate on time and get a fresh start in Junior College. Unfortunately for my undeveloped priorities, this simply meant I focused even more of my attention on running; now there were simply fewer things to fail at in other parts of my life. The previous year I had nearly qualified for the State Championship meet, which would have been, needless to say, awesome. In a nutshell, the top 50 or so qualified (5 best teams + 15 best singles) and I ended up about 52nd. Having come so close my Junior year, I figured I was a shoo-in my Senior year provided I trained enough. So I trained.

I did a more strenuous summer program along with the rest of the team so that I wouldn't lose much during the summer months. During the Cross Country season, I distanced myself from my teammates because my goal was to win, and win only. Having failed so much the previous year in so many aspects, I wanted to be the best at something. I was constantly angry; snapping at everything. I remember one practice where I flipped out at another runner for not doing some laps after practice that for some reason I demanded he do (I think I justified it because I was the captain.) If you're reading this for some reason, Josh, I'm sorry, and I was wrong for thinking I had any authority.

Anyways, the week of the meet came, and I was ready. I had trained hard and long and I was ready to qualify. All I had to do was to do what was expected of me at the Sectional meet and I would qualify for the State meet. I was ready to hear my name over the school loudspeaker (which I always imagined everyone was intently listening to) that I was representing our school at the State meet. Everyone in the room would cheer for me, and people in the halls would wish me luck in the meet. I wouldn't win, but for a couple weeks I would be recognized as being awesome. That didn't happen. Two days before the meet I caught a terrible flu that had been going around and ended up in the Emergency Room for a brief stay. While I wasn't in terrible life threatening jeopardy, I was out of commission from long distance running just long enough that I couldn't compete in the Sectional meet. So obviously I didn't qualify, and nobody cared about the Cross Country team.

I was angry at God. I held him responsible for keeping me from my dreams. I thought over the subject endlessly and concluded that there was no logical reason for God to keep me from running in that meet. It doesn't say anywhere in the Bible that running is a sin, and God could've stopped this illness and chose not to. I went angrily into the Track season and ran the whole season angry. I blew a gasket one practice at my coach because I thought she was being unreasonable (again, if you're reading this Coach T, I'm sorry; I was being immature and selfish.) I was fed up with not being the best and my one shot at going to State was gone. I wasn't a good enough miler in Track to make it to State, so I was just running with bitterness and anger.

After the season, I quit running. I needed to figure out how to study, and at the time I hated running. I only did the sport because I was good at it; not because I enjoyed the activity itself. I liked running with friends, and I occasionally liked competition, but running itself...not so much.

It wasn't until years later I realized what was going on back then. God doesn't forbid running, but he does weed out things that keep us from him. When I broke down on my floor that night a year before and begged God to come into my life and fix everything, he did so. What I didn't realize at the time was that God was refining me like silver, and his first priority in that process was taking out the biggest hindrance in my life. God doesn't share his place in our hearts with anything else; if we ask for his love (which we should) we're going to get every part of it. We can not serve two masters.

Running was my idol. I served running because at my core I justified my place through it. I didn't need anything else to prove my worth, because I was a runner. On my own merit, I could achieve, and I didn't need help. God wanted to build me past that, and to do that, he had to remove the idols which I had built up to obscure his light from shining on me. It took me years to realize what God had done and was showing me all this time, and I'm thankful for it.

So that's why I stopped running for so long. My assumptions that you care about my history included, God is still working on the pride which I hold so dearly. He continuously strips me of the barricades I put up so that he can show me how he will defend me from the world. God loves me, protects me, and most importantly, saves me. I just hope that I can live a life some day that radiates his love to the rest of the world.

Running Away

2011-02-09T05:00:00.000-08:00

When I was in High School, I was decent at a lot of things. I was reasonably smart, reasonably athletic, reasonably well adjusted, etc. It wasn't until I tried distance running in High School that I thought I was really good at something. After quitting baseball because I sorta hurt my arm, I sorta never started, and sorta hit below the mendoza line, I needed to do a sport or my parents would make me get an after school job. My dad was a good distance runner, so I figured trickle down economics told me I'd benefit from that. It made sense to me, partially because my academics were so off kilter at that point in my life I just blended classes together (in this case Economics and Biology) if I could make the logic into a standing house of cards. Turns out that house of cards got me there, as I was a pretty good miler.

I kept at it with running as it finally felt good to be good at something. I didn't so much enjoy the act of running per se; I enjoyed the purist competition and I liked my teammates and friends, but running itself was a chore most of the time. The first year and a half were great. I loved being good at something, I loved being able to tap into ability more so than others seemed to be able to, and I loved hearing my name announced over the loudspeaker. I'd been playing baseball for 10 years and I never made an All-Star team once. That first medal was a long time coming in my mind. After just missing qualifying for the State meet my Junior year, I realized I might accomplish something that only a handful of athletes ever do; compete in the state finals for a sport. I knew that as a Senior, being bereft of any competition from those older and more seasoned than me, I was a shoo-in for the state meet.

After that though, things took a turn for the worse. At the halfway point in the year, I really collapsed into a brooding depression. Things had been spiraling downwards for a few years now at about this time of year perennially, but Junior year was when the floor caved in from under me. That third lap per se of the academic mile, like the regular mile, was always the toughest. I had always put sports and my social life above my academics, and until now had just barely skated at the edges of respectability. My grades would always drop to the athletic minimum, and I would be grounded, but I was allowed to stay in sports because they kept me out of trouble. Junior year was different though. Two F's in Spanish and Calculus combined with poor grades in other classes left me without a leg to stand on (I hope you like running jokes) and I couldn't run anymore. As I had built so much of my self esteem on running, I didn't know what to do.

My family was supportive, but I hadn't allowed myself to rely on them emotionally. I had built myself up so much as a great man of independence and personal accomplishment (totally unfounded, by the way) that I didn't know how to reach out for help. I just focused intently on how much I sucked; how worthless I was; how I kept telling myself I'd spite the world and prove my awesomeness but never did. I constantly had something to prove to everyone, except nobody actually was waiting for my proof. I kept looking inside myself for that super ability to just surge it out at the end like I did when I ran, but it wasn't there. Life isn't running. I couldn't just be awesome and get there anyway on natural talent; I needed help. I didn't know how to or want to get help, so really, I was pretty much doomed.

Fortunately, that's not how God operates. God came down and showed me how he had been helping me the whole time. He'd lead me through Church my whole life to give me a net for when I collapsed in shame. He lead the school to already have plans in place to lead me out of such academic rigor and ease back into a doable schedule for me. He already told my therapist that perhaps something else was afoot other than regular teen stress and anxiety. The night when I collapsed and prayed to God to fix everything I didn't even know how I had started, he already had plans in play. God swooped in and quieted my heart, separated the daunting from my horizon, and instead put his yoke upon me. Suddenly I found myself with a straight road in front of me instead of a windy, hill laden pass which I had picked out. I learned quickly that, on my own, I pick challenges out that I have no intention on actually completing. God only plans challenges for me that he equips me to deal with.

Everyone's got snow globes in their proverbial houses of life. If real life is a house which requires extensive upkeep, everyone has snow globes that they can shake up all they want with the knowledge that it doesn't matter. Some people shake up a sex snow globe; others a party snow globe; others a gaming snow globe. They have their sub-lives that they can experiment around with and jeopardize because it doesn't matter if they screw up; their real life is what matters. Somehow in high school, real life became my snow globe to my figurative running house. I focused all my efforts on being a great runner, and every now and then shook up my real life just to keep myself entertained. When the snow globe hit the ground, I forgot how much it really mattered, and God had to pull me out of it. I thank God every day that he put running back into its globe, reassembled himself as the house, and gave me a detailed guide on how he'd help me keep it up.

When God comes in and finds you crying on the floor over a snow globe, don't run away. Embrace his love and let him fix everything for you. For me, when the time came, I knew my choice. How could I deny the only thing that had the sole power to fix everything I had ruined, and yearned for me to allow him to do so?

Oakland Athletics Prospect Reports

2011-02-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

I did some amateur reports on some of the A's minor leaguers as part of the Athletics Nation Community Prospect thread. Here's what I came up with:

Rashun Dixon was a two way star that the A's tore away in the 10th round of 2008. He's got tools, but has yet to put too many of them to good use. He posted a pretty great .263 ISO in 2008 in rookie ball, but hasn't come anywhere close to that since then. He's already somewhat injury prone, but he's still young. He had a very bad 2009, posting just a .281 wOBA over 57 games in low A, but bounced back to the tune of a .352 wOBA as the A's moved him up anyway to A ball. He has a short, compact swing allowing for good reactions on inside pitches. He cut down on his K rate this year, but it's still an unsettling 30%. Dixon is making steady progress as can be seen though, and if he can stay on the field while improving his tools, he has 5 tool upside. His biggest concern is that K rate, which may cause him to fade away in AA as a failed tools guy.

Michael Ynoa is the epitome of high ceiling. The A's drafted him in 2008 for a record signing bonus of 4.25 million when he was 16. Ynoa was heralded as the best pitching prospect out of Latin America in years, and chose Oakland over the Yankees reportedly because the A's treated him a little better during the courtship. As a 16 year old, he was listed at 6'7'' and 210lbs, throwing 95 MPH on his fastball, with a curve and a change to boot. Unfortunate, after just 9 innings over 3 appearances, he went down and had to have Tommy John in August of 2010, setting back his progress a good amount. Even though he may not pitch again until 2012, he's a good comeback candidate from TJ. He's got a great build and was very well developed for his age, so his timeline after recovering could be expedited. In some eyes, he's basically become a great college-age prospect rather than a high school phenom, but he has basically zero experience to speak of, and as such, has a long way to go before he gets put back on any top 50 lists.

Yordy Cabrera: Drafted this year, Cabrera is a very toolsy High School shortstop who's got a lot of potential. Drafted as a 19 year old because of immigration school shenanigans, he was old for his draft class. That said, he plays a fine Shortstop for now due to average and a fantastic arm, but he's still growing, and a general consensus says he'll move to 3B or the outfield eventually. During BP he has a level swing, but when he gets anxious he uppercuts a little bit, though not in a Cust-like manner. While he's not slow, it doesn't look like speed will be his game much, but if he keeps growing power could be a big part of his game. He's a natural athlete though, and his future will depend on what route the team decides to move him towards to take advantage of his plethora of tools.

Max Stassi: Probably the most divisive of prospects in terms of Athletics Nation's opinions, Stassi is a very talented High School catcher. The upside is that his defense and pitcher handling abilities have been almost universally praised, he's got the build and durability to stay at catcher, and his offensive ability could mature to the point where he'd be a good bat at catcher. The bad news is that he's a high school catcher (which have a notoriously high failure rate) and an extremely high K rate of 34.3%. As was pointed out on the blog, the K rate is high enough that only Russell Branyan can claim a K rate that high since 94 out of that league and also claim a respectable career, so he needs to drop it in order to progress. That said, Stassi is still very young and has a lot of time to improve, and if he can drop his K rates while keeping his power up, his defense constant, and off the operating table, he becomes a very exciting prospect to watch.

Fautino De Los Santos: FDLS as he's commonly shortened to was acquired by the A's in the Nick Swisher deal. At the time, he was considered an even prospect to the other pitcher acquired in the deal (Gio Gonzalez) though much further away from the majors. A Tommy John Surgery early on dropped his status a lot, and he just came back for 31 innings this year. While he had a hard time keeping the runs off the board, his peripherals were fantastic, with a 14.5 K/9 and a 2.09 FIP. He's no longer a starter, but he's a dark horse candidate to make the bullpen this year a la Andrew Bailey of 2009. He works off a Fastball/Slider/Changeup arsenal, but scouts say he has two fastballs (one with slight horizontal and one with slight vertical movement, both mid 90s) and his slider moves like a Slurve and looks like a Fastball out of the hands. His change up is nothing special, but as a reliever, he could get by with two great pitches, which is what he has. Look for him to keep the K rates up and we could see him soon.

Josh Donaldson: Donaldson came over in the Harden/Cubs trade in 2008, and has steadily progressed since then, getting a taste of the big leagues this year. Scouting reports say his arm is great, but his receiving is still in development. He's close to being Major League ready with his bat, and could even pull a backup job on a number of teams. His power is his main asset, as he has 20 home run upside with a high (!380) OBP to boot. He has hit for average in the past, but anything beyond 260 is gravy really with his power and eye. His K rate jumped this year in AAA corresponding with a drop in AVG, which may signify a bit of flailing at the plate. Look for Josh to start the season in AAA as the third catcher to Suzuki and Powell while he works on his approach, and be the first replacement in case of injury, a Suzuki trade, or Powell not getting it done.

Eric Sogard (Pasted from my original post) Sogard was originally drafted by the Padres in the 2nd round out of ASU. He’s played 2nd base basically his entire career, and reports about his skillset vary pretty wildly. Depending on who you talk to, you may hear anything from David Eckstein to AAA filler. Offensively, he has very little pop but a lot of patience at the plate, working over a 370 OBP the last three Minor league seasons. He walks more than he strikes out, which is, needless to say, good. Defensively, some say he’s improved a lot, but most reports say he’s average at best. If he can keep his walk rate and average around the 300/390 levels, he could be a passable major league 2nd baseman, despite the lack of power. If he can’t keep it up, then he’ll get a cup of tea somewhere as a utilityman, though his defense will have to improve to justify any reasonable amount of time at shortstop. He’ll almost certainly get that shot with Pennington/Rosales recovering from injuries, though with his low ceiling he’ll have to justify it quickly in order to not get lost in the shuffle.

Jemile Weeks: Weeks was the A's 1st round draft pick in 2008, and it brought mixed reviews. Weeks is a very athletic 2B/CF with the tools to make it happen, but his minor league career has been plagued by injuries. When healthy, he's been great, posting solid numbers in all categories and no real weaknesses. That said, he hasn't shown any great strengths. His power is middling at best, and while reports say he's fast enough to be a threat, he hasn't been stealing bases much. It's hard to tell whether his talent is middling or whether his wealth of injuries is constantly holding him back. If he were healthy, he'd be contending for a roster spot this year, but he's yet to play more than 80 games in two full professional seasons, and this year will be a 24 year old hoping to crack the AAA roster. If he can stay on the field we might see a September call up this year, but he needs to overcome that rather big hill to get attention.

Ian Krol: Krol was a highly touted high school prospect, blowing away his local hitters, one year throwing 3 no hitters including a perfect game. He's a Left Handed pitcher who relies on command and control rather than velocity to get outs. His fastball is average, but his changeup and curveball profile to be above average. He kept the ball well at the edges of the zone, as shown in his very low walk rate (1.44) but his also low K/9 (6.9) He'll probably start the year in High A this year, maybe even transitioning to AA if he continues to do well. With his ability to induce weak contact and the A's recent focus on defense, he profiles well to stay a SP in the A's system, though his ceiling probably isn't Ace potential. If he stays on the ball, he may see MLB time as early as 2012.

Tyson Ross: Ross was a 2nd round pick out of (Rest in Peace) the Cal Berkeley Baseball Program. At the time, he projected as a high upside guy with injury concerns. He has an inverted W delivery which caused him enough trouble to force him into Tommy Johns in college, but stayed healthy until he ran into a UCL sprain in the second half of this year. He cracked the bullpen out of Spring Training last year with injuries to Devine and Wuertz, and was electrifying for a short while, becoming Geren's high leverage reliever of choice in the 7th inning. That said, the streak came to a close after a few weeks, and Ross was sent back down to AAA, where he pitched well but battled the sprain. He has a decent arsenal; Fastball, Sinker, Slider, and Changeup, though Ross claims he rarely throws the Change when he's relieving. Thanks to Pitch F/x we know his Fastball and Sinker are low 90s and have good vertical movement, while his slider appears to mainly swing horizontally with little vertical movement. He throws all his pitches from the same release point, and uses a lot of arm as detailed by the aforementioned inverted W. Ross will compete for the 5th starter spot, though he'll probably start the year in AAA and look for an injury replacement spot during the year.

Idleness and Offseasons

2011-01-19T05:00:00.000-08:00

As primarily a baseball fan these days, the offseason can be pretty maddening. On one hand, I'm excited that I have time to look deeper into issues on my mind, like Minor Leaguers, trades, and salaries, but the lack of actual sport tends to lead to me over-analyzing everything. I can become overly critical of others too, since the lack of sport forces me to rely on other people for nourishment, and that always leads to disappointment.

For we hear that some among you walk in idleness, not busy at work, but busybodies. Now such persons we command and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living. -- 2nd Thessalonians 3:14

It's easy in times of idleness to fall into such traps; by nature we are self concerned and judgmental. Fortunately God gave us something to help us avoid this: work. Work doesn't necessarily have to be your day job; it can be anything done for a purpose that brings glory to God. If you have 3 months off in the summer because you're a teacher, then volunteering at a day camp could be work. Writing a blog post could be work (at least I tell myself it is.) Processing your way through a commentary on the book of Isaiah could be work.

The point is that idleness isn't of God. We all need rest; God commanded Elijah to go to sleep when the world became too much for him. That said, if you've come to the point that you're well rested enough to realize that the lack of work is affecting you negatively, then you need to get to work. God wants you to work, and through the experience rely on him so he can draw you closer to him. When we're idle, we're not relying on God at all, and we're not doing anything to change it. Remember that in everything we do, God should be glorified, and because of our selfish nature, they don't always come naturally. Strive for God, and you will find yourself doing great things solely on him carrying your works.

Dikembe Mutombo: Big; Nice Guy.

2011-01-12T05:00:00.000-08:00

If you ever find a list of all around good guy athletes (especially good guy NBA players) Dikembe Mutombo will almost certainly be near the top of the list. He's well known in particular for his efforts to improve living conditions in The Republic of Congo, where he's originally from, going as far as donating more than 15 million dollars to building a hospital with modern facilities. That doesn't mean he's been without his controversy.

Mutombo has been known particularly for two strikes against him; taunting after blocking a shot, and dangerously flailing his elbows. With regards to the taunting, he would wave his finger in front of a player after blocking a shot, as if he was a parent that just took away a cookie from a mischievous child. It got bad enough that the league started calling a technical foul on him for Unsportsmanlike Conduct when he would do it. As for the arm waving, he's a big guy, and he plays aggressively, which causes him to push people away violently some times. In his own words, he doesn't mean to hurt anyone, but his position demands physical play, and the best he can do is to say Sorry, and move on.

I highlight Mutombo because he's a great example of how one can live their life in the world but still donate the fruits to God. Mutombo isn't a perfect man; he clearly has his faults, but he still makes great strides in giving the fruits of his labor to God. While it's good to try to strive for godliness in the work that you do, if you find joy in something and you're good at it, then you can use it for God. While I don't advocate sinking to obvious sin (don't become a mercenary assassin or anything) there's no reason secular work can't be used for God.

I once heard a speaker in college tell a shy Electrical Engineer, "If you're good at making money, go make money." God can use your pension for making money in extraordinary ways, and he did that with Dikembe Mutombo. He's used his basketball ability to build a hospital in the Congo, and he can use your difficult job to accomplish great things too. This isn't easy though; it requires incredible faith, diligence, and humility to keep relying on God. That said, God believes in you, else he wouldn't have put you where you are. Trust in God and give over the fruits of your labor, and be amazed at what he does with them.

"He who plants and he who waters are one, and each will receive his wages according to his labor. For we are God's fellow workers. You are God's field, God's building." -- 1st Corinthians 3: 8-9

Playoffs and Pushing God Away

2011-01-05T05:00:00.000-08:00

You've worked for so, so long to get to this point. You put in more practice than your opponents, worked harder, and wanted it more. All those days of twice daily practices and the special diets have paid off; you've made the playoffs. All you have to do is finish this up with your full, undivided effort, and then everything will be great. You'll have so much time to focus on God and you'll be able to get to everything you've been intending to the whole season. You'll finally read that book your parents gave you, catch up on the study you claim to have done already, and you'll pray more often for problems. If I just finish up this little thing here, then I'll give God all the attention he wants.

Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit" -- yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, "If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that." As it is, you boast in your arrogance, All such boasting is evil. So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin. -- James 4:13-17

It's a weird dichotomy when we feel like God has propelled us into a certain situation, but we feel like we need to put him aside to accomplish the goals we've given us. We may feel God has called us to sport, work, or any other activity, but right now it's just too stressful and tough to pray, read the word, or commune with believers. It's fine; I'll just put it off for a little bit, get the work done, and then I'll have plenty of time to focus on God again. What sort of standard does this set for our future?

We're falling into a habit of the world now, God later. Everyone has their own personal way of communing with God. Some pray constantly, some fast for wisdom, some study the word for revelations, etc. That doesn't mean that when push comes to shove, it's OK to put God off for a bit. Our love for God should be so powerful that it shouldn't even be a choice, and every time we make that choice against God, we're letting sin take hold.
We're pushing God out of our world. In Acts, God says that his people did everything together in the Lord. God gave Adam work to do in order to glorify God. We should be confident that God has given us the work in front of us and we don't need to push him out. God doesn't just want the private time when we can afford it; he wants our lunch breaks, our 3:00 meeting, our family dinners, and our 4th quarters. Don't push God away; allow him to take the reins in the hard times and let him show you and everyone else his plan and power.
We're trying to accomplish goals in order to earn time with God. Deep down we feel like we have to get this work done so that we can be guilt and conscious free when we come to God. God does not call the proud, the accomplished, and the strong. God wants you to come to him weak, humble, and empty so that he can fill you with himself. He wants to take care of the hard times, not just the easy ones.

When you get to the playoffs of life, don't push God out. Don't just wait for tomorrow for God; you don't know what's going to happen today. Let God rule today and let him worry about what will happen tomorrow too.

Matt Murton's New Circumstances

2010-12-29T05:00:00.000-08:00

Matt Murton has had an interesting year. After struggling through parts of 6 seasons up and down through the minor league system with the Cubs, A's, and Rockies, Murton's contract was sold to the Hanshin Tigers for the 2010 season. All of a sudden this red-haired Gaijin that knew nothing about Japan was headed off to join one of the most popular teams for a country that goes nuts over baseball, and he had no idea what to expect. It's safe to say though that he didn't expect to shatter the single season hits record. Even though the previous holder, Ichiro, did his 210 hits in 130 games, and Murton did his 214 in the newly lengthened season of 144 games, it's fine to say that he enjoyed a great season (even if it wasn't legendary) with a final line of 349/395/499 with 17 HRs. Now he's been using his new platform to talk about God!

Murton was never anything fancy stateside. After a good season in 2006, he had his 2007 shortened with the acquisition of Cliff Floyd, relegating Murton to a 4th outfielder role. He spent 2008 and 2009 up and down without ever receiving regular at-bats in the MLB. By his own admission, Murton struggled to figure out what was going on after 2007. He often prayed to God, wondering if God had other plans for him. It turned out that God did. A Christian since the age of 6 after praying with his mother one day, Murton was sent to a foreign land where he relied on God exclusively to take care of his family, who braved the journey with him. God came through in spades, to say the least, blessing Murton's endeavors in baseball and allowing him a platform to preach the gospel.

Behold, God is my salvation;
I will trust, and will not be afraid;
for the Lord God is my strength and my song,
and he has become my salvation. -- Isaiah 12:2

Often times we may wonder why things aren't going well. We pray for God to humble us and draw us closer to him, then question God as to why he seems to be cursing our efforts in the world. Trusting in God is just that; trust. God wants to use you, and he alone knows what it takes to bring you to a place where you can trust fully in him to follow him. When things go off of our plans, it's not because God has abandoned us, forgotten us, or is actively working against us. Rather, God is working through our circumstances in order to show us the better plans he has in store for us. Matt Murton probably would not have gone to Japan without this sort of strange path, but I don't think he'd argue the notion that he's happy he's there now. God will provide us strength, opportunity, and inspiration to accomplish his plan, and we only need to trust in his power and not work against it.

Christmas

2010-12-22T05:00:00.000-08:00

Just a quick post this week as we all head into Christmas; take a moment sometime this week to think about how amazing it truly is that God sent his son in human form to save us. He was born from a woman as we are, and faced all the trials and tribulations we do, and yet still lived to become a perfect sacrifice for us. Sports these days (and society in general) are so focused on how much we can harness our own individual talents in order to better ourselves that we forget the model that we are supposed to follow; one of complete reliance on the Father and amazing selflessness. Jesus lived and died sinlessly in order to save us, and all we have to do is trust in his salvation. That should blow your mind.

In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. -- John 1:4-5

Ted Barrett's Humble Strength

2010-12-15T05:00:00.000-08:00

Being an umpire is rough. It's impossible to get every call right, and when you don't, everybody hates you. Even the people who respect you hate you. It's easy when taking up that call to put up a similar proud aura; you're running this show, and you demand respect. Ted Barrett, though, handles his business a little differently.

Do not be lead away by diverse and strange teachings, for it is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace... -- Hebrews 13:9a

As an umpire, Barrett knows he has to have confidence in there or he'll be eaten alive by fans, players, and coaches ready to jump anything close to a mistake. Berating the umpires is one of the great traditions of the game, and any umpire worth his salt knows how to ignore it and run the game the way he wants to. That said, it's possible to do this with humility and quietness. Common wisdom says that the great umpires are "seen, but not heard." They are able to command respect in the game based on their abilities, and keep the game going without making a show of their presence. In umpiring as well as the rest of life, taking direct insults without pushing back is extremely difficult; fortunately we lean on a God who has given an identity which he is responsible for, and he has justified our lives for us.

The vexation of a fool is known at once,
but the prudent ignores an insult. -- Proverbs 12:16

If you let them get under your skin, then they've won that battle. You have shown them that you are placing your worth, your justification, on something which needs your personal involvement to uphold. We don't need to do this. God is perfectly capable of justifying himself. When someone accuses the fatherless, the widow, and the poor, take up their cause. When accusations come from the ungodly, the Lord will defend our cause.

I will bear the indignation of the LORD
because I have sinned against him,
until he pleads my cause
and executes judgment for me.
He will bring me out to the light;
I shall look upon his vindication.
Then my enemy will see,
and shame will cover her who said to me,
"Where is the Lord your God?"
"My eyes will look upon her;
now she will be trampled down
like the mire of the streets. - Micah 7:9-10

God has come out and judged, and Jesus has born the punishment. He vindicates our cause against the baseless accusations of this world. Place your worth in Jesus' salvation and you'll be able to shrug off insults; they're not what you place your ultimate worth in. Be a little bit like Ted Barrett--confident, strong, and humble, but because the Lord has made him that way, not because he has worked for it.

We're talkin' 'bout Practice

2010-12-08T05:00:00.001-08:00

As you may have realized by my incessant attempts to put words on a page, I'm the sort of person who enjoys forming arguments. I like to have my thoughts planned out ahead of time so that when the situation comes around to talk about it, I'm ready to do so. I think this stems at least partly from my competitive nature raised in sports. Only the incredibly elite and/or lucky can go into a high profile game unprepared and still excel; the rest of us have to practice in order to hone our skills.

The word "practice" has a nifty double meaning for Christians. In modern athletic terms, it means to drill and prepare beforehand so that our bodies and minds are ready to perform well when we are commanded to do so. In biblical terms, the word "practice" means to actively engage in activities so that they may have a profound impact on our lives. I don't think the two meanings are mutually exclusive in our lives.

Do not neglect the gift you have, which was given you, by prophecy when the council of elders laid their hands on you. Practice these things, immerse yourself in them, so all may see your progress. Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching. Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers. -- 1st Timothy 4:14-16

Practicing God's design is a lifestyle rather than an activity. By continually and diligently rooting out sin in our lives and instead working for God's favor, we facilitate a more godly mindset. People who are able to be humble in the good times are much more prepared to be confident in the bad times; the practice of devotion makes us more wholly devoted people. We still take cues from our Father and he still provides us with the commands to act, the tools to succeed, and the insurance of his fruit, but we can ready ourselves for such times. The practice of living for God inherently begets a more Godly lifestyle, and will allow us to be confident in God's plans when he presents them.

Glen Coffee's New Plans

2010-12-01T05:00:00.000-08:00

It's not often you get players that up and leave a good career to follow Christ, but that's what Glen Coffee did. A backup runningback for the 49ers brought on to help Frank Gore out, Coffee was considered a fine NFL football player with a promising future. Back in August though, Coffee elected to quit football altogether because he said he felt like God had been calling him away from the game for a long time.

Go home to your friends and tell them how much the LORD has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you. -- Acts 5:19

Though we may have talents in sports, God does not always work through the things we find fun. Yes, I believe often that God does, but God will use you the way he wants. If he knows you'll do amazing things by going out of your element, then he'll have you do it. If he wants you to do what you have been doing your whole life, he'll make that clear too. The glory of God living in us is that he gives us the power to do everything he wants us to do. God does not delegate tasks and leave us to fulfill them; he empowers us to do them. God works this way so that the world will see him working, loving, living, and breathing in such a way that the events that transpire are wholly divine in nature.

Glen Coffee saw this. He saw that God used football to take him to college, where he would learn about Jesus' death and resurrection. Now that he has come to know God, Glen believes that God is using his life in new, more adventurous. It's almost certainly more difficult to abandon a life of fortune, fame, skill, and worldly prize for one of service, but God wants his people where he wants them. Whatever God's reasons are, we know that they are more amazing than anything we could think of. Continue to pray that God shows you what he wants you to do, and you too may find yourself somehow, by known of your own merit, accomplishing spectacular tasks you never thought you'd embark on.

God's House

2010-11-24T05:00:00.000-08:00

Yet the most high does not dwell in houses made by hands, as the prophet says,
Heaven is my throne,
and the earth is my footstool.
What kind of house will you build for me, says the Lord,
or what is the place of my rest?
Did not my hand make all these things? -- Acts 7:48-50

It's a good thing that the Lord doesn't rely on the crafts of my hands, because that house at this point would be shoddy, ugly, and nowhere close to finished. Still, there is work to be done on the earth.

As an athlete takes the field, sometimes they may wonder if this is the work they should be doing. I imagine often that sports are thought of as a distraction from the real goal, and at times we may even hope that God is averting his gaze for a short time while we have a little fun, but it doesn't have to be this way. If we go into sport (as with all daily activities) with the mindset to give it to God, then it can become a joyful, godly activity. How can we do this?

1) Remember that the Lord is above all the earth. The Lord doesn't want to just control the spiritual part of your life; he wants it all. The Lord created us the way we are so that we can be beacons for him in our daily lives. Jesus encourages people many times (Mark 2:11, 5:19) to take the healing given and go into the world and proclaim it. This does mean our purpose has changed; it does not mean our activities need to change. While we should pursue God in everything we do, and some harmful activities need to be plucked out, sports can be done with the idea that we are growing close to other people in order to show them God's love. God is with you in sports just as much as everything else.

2) We can create God's house within sports. If you frequent this blog at all, you may know that this can be done either overtly (Josh Hamilton) or subtly (Brad Ziegler.) There's no reason to think of sports as outside God's realm. We need to remember the community that grows through sports, and we can use that to propel God's word into the kingdom at large. Make sure everyone knows how much of God's glory you take in when you finish a long run, or take the field in the bottom of the ninth, or nail your 5th free throw in a row, and people will eventually notice that you're getting something out of it that they're missing out on, and they'll gravitate toward it.

3) Remember that God made sports and wants them included as a material for his house. God made you the person you are, he made you the witness you've become, and he gave you the activities you enjoy for the purpose of glorifying him. If we think of sports as God's personal ministry he's entrusted to us, then it gives us that sense of purpose we may have been dodging or seeking for a long time.

Manny Pacquiao's Prayer

2010-11-17T05:00:00.000-08:00

Pac-Man is pretty much at the height of his game right now. He's still winning fights against much larger opponents, he is appearing on nighttime talk shows, and he is a congressman in his home country of the Philippines. Regardless, Pacquiao still finds time to pray to the Lord, thanking him for all the blessings in his life. As you can see by the picture, he does this with incredible sincerity and quietness despite everything going on around him. Pacquiao's life right now is clearly one of incredible turmoil, chaos, change, and pressure; yet he still finds time to go directly to the Lord in silence.

But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying 'God, be merciful to me, a sinner!' I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted. -- Luke 18:13-14

Too often we neglect this time of prayer. It's hard enough for most of us to get prayer in during a public meal; how are we supposed to pray during sports? The fact is that we need heartfelt prayer for everything we do, and sports are no exception. Pacquiao's way of praying shows his incredible gratitude for the Lord, and his humility in being able to express his faith so quietly. Ironically, this quiet display becomes very loud in the public's eye. In a world that is encouraging Pacquiao to revel in his accomplishment and be proud of his amazing athletic prowess, he refuses and goes back to the Lord for guidance. When we go to the Lord for prayer while in public, even when we're scared and confused of what form it should take we can remember this example. Just be thankful for everything the Lord has given you, and faithfully request his guidance henceforth; no grand public displays needed. The Lord will provide everything else you need if you have this attitude.

God's Design: Where We Fit In

2010-11-10T05:00:00.000-08:00

A young man asked me recently how one is supposed to deal with insulting situations. He told me that when somebody confronts him and tries to put him down, he feels obligated to defend himself in whatever manner the situation warrants; physically or verbally. As humans most of us boil down to one of two impulses in these situations: fight or flight. As Christians though, and new people in God, we are given a third option; trust.

I think its fair to say that some people involved in sports practice as a way to justify themselves to other people. They want to let their actions speak for themselves so that everyone knows what sort of person they are, and if confronted, they can point out their accomplishments. If somebody called me slow in High School, I could prove them wrong with medals and ribbons, and doing so filled me with an intense, albeit shallow, sense of pride. To borrow a metaphor from a comedian I heard a long time ago, this sort of pride is a lot like Fruit Stripe gum: extremely gratifying for a few seconds, although quickly replaced by boredom and staleness unless constantly refreshed.

You, however, did not come to know Christ that way. Surely you heard of him and were taught in him in accordance with the truth that is in Jesus. You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness. -- Ephesians 4:20-24

As Christians, we don't need to justify our identities anymore. We give our lives to God precisely because our actions without him are meaningless, and we desperately desire him to come and save us from ourselves. When we give our lives to God, we recognize the fickleness of our accomplishments, and finally let God define what we are. Since God is defining us, we don't need to prove anything to anyone. When people around us question what it is that's defining us as people, we can simply tell them that Jesus died on the cross for us, loves us eternally, and we live our lives trying to help him in whatever way he wants. We let God's actions speak for us; and we delight in the fact that his actions are infinitely more worthwhile and amazing than anything we could ever do.

God's Design: Ben Zobrist

2010-11-03T05:00:00.000-07:00

I'll go ahead and reveal a startling revelation to you all: Not everyone is called to full-time ministry. While everyone is called to give their life to God, not everyone is meant to be a Priest, Pastor, or other such jobs that require extraordinary charisma and articulation. On a related note, Ben Zobrist is not Grant Desme. In addition to being a Major League Baseball player instead of a prospect turned Priest, Ben is a man who felt God's call was for him to pursue baseball.

Coming out of High School, Ben didn't receive any calls from scouts. As the son of a pastor, while a very talented athlete, he had planned to go to college to begin his path as a youth minister. He felt God nudging him a little bit, so he decided to use his leftover birthday money and attend a college scouting camp despite his parents' misgivings. Ben received an offer from a school, but told his parents he would submit to their will if they believed God's call for him was in ministry. His parents asked him what he thought God was telling him, and he told them he felt like God wanted him to play a little more, and his parents let him play having showed such maturity earlier. He took the scholarship, was drafted a few years later, and broke into the MLB soon afterwards.

Unlike Grant Desme, he struggled a little coming through the Minors. Despite the gaudy numbers he put up in 2009, Zobrist was always seen as a super-utility player--A great piece on a winning team, but not a cornerstone to build on. Whereas Desme experienced the thrill of being at the top and felt God tug him away, Zobrist felt the dredge of mediocrity and felt God push him on towards greater success.

Now concerning spiritual gifts, brothers, I do not want you to be uninformed...Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same spirit, and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone. -- 1st Corinthians, 12:1,4-6

If we see God calling some of us away from our mediocre jobs, and others on to greater glory in our current fields, does this mean God is inconsistent? No. This means God has personal plans for each of us, and we need to leave our hearts open for that plan to take hold of our actual lives. Both Ben and Grant's choices were huge leaps of faith; Zobrist risked angering his family and losing out on valuable schooling to pursue a pipe dream, and Grant gave up a possibly highly lucrative career to pursue a lifetime of service. We need to trust God that he gave us the gifts he wanted us to have, has put us in a place to either use them or prepare to use them, and will move us to where he wants his glory to be seen. Let's just hope that we're smart enough to realize his voice instead of shutting him out in favor of our own machinations.

God's design: Grant Desme

2010-10-27T05:00:00.000-07:00

The plans of the heart belong to man,
but the answer of the tongue is from the LORD. -- Proverbs 16:1

Grant Desme has more physical talent than most of us could ever dream of. God gave him excellent speed, strength, and willpower to harness it in sports. Grant Desme could go back to baseball today and be ranked among the league's top 100 prospects. For those of you who don't know, Grant Desme is the former As prospect who quit baseball after an amazing 2009 minor league season to join the priesthood.

All the ways of a man are pure in his own eyes,
but the LORD weighs the spirit. -- Proverbs 16:2

Many people who read about this are simply confounded; why would such an amazing athlete simply walk away to become a priest? Why would anyone want to abandon such fame and money to live a life of subservience? Why can't he stay in baseball and still be a man of God? Why doesn't he try to find a way to use his abilities in conjunction with his faith? The answer for Grant came down to God's design. Grant said, among other things, that he "aspires to higher things." He says he has no regrets, and that having such an amazing season as he did only strengthened his desire to follow God in the priesthood. He felt that the rush of exceeding at such a high level, yet still feeling God tugging him to work elsewhere, finally made him realize that God had other plans for him.

Commit your work to the LORD,
and your plans will be established. -- Proverbs 16:3

What this comes down to for Grant and us is that we have to pray relentlessly and earnestly for God to show us what he wants for us. While it may seem convenient to try and find a way to serve God in baseball, that may not be what God has for us. Only he who has given us life can explain what he wants us to do with it. We weren't saved because we are amazing people who God needs to use; we were saved because we were desperate for God's hand to save us from ourselves. If God is telling you to re-evaluate your life's course and follow him in a drastic manner, then the only answer you can give is "Yes."

The heart of man plans his way,
but the LORD establishes his steps. -- Proverbs 16:9

Team Unity

2010-10-20T05:00:00.000-07:00

And all who believed were together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need. And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. And the LORD added to their number day by day those who were being saved. -- Acts 2:44-47

Sports are naturally social events. We train with, are coached by, interact with, and compete against other people at all times. Even the most solitary of athletes has coaches overseeing them and other theoretical athletes putting up records that become goals to reach. The spirit of competition breeds fierce individualism in some, but nearly every athlete has memories of great communities in which they've seen a lot of growth. Just as the Bible commands us to work towards furthering a community, we should work towards building greater community with others involved in their sports.

The above quote comes from Acts, just after Jesus ascended into heaven and commisioned the disciples to spread the gospel. Jesus had trained them for this, and sent them out in pairs to learn how to do this (Mark 6:7) The Lord encourages us to participate in community, for he knows that others can compensate for our weaknesses and embolden our spirits in the difficult times. We can apply this mentality to sports. God has placed us in the lives of our team members to strengthen them, help them, and compliment them (and they for us.)

If you're on a team, get to know the other members of the team. Learn what drives them, entertains them, and helps them so that you can establish commonalities and a relationship with them. Through teamwork not only can we accomplish our athletic goals, but we can accomplish our spiritual goals. The above passage tells us that the members of the Church had all things in common--not just a love for Jesus, Baseball, or whatever. The more we establish community with people that enjoy the same things as we do and find delight in the same earthly activities as well, the more we can find tangible ways to evangelize in the world.

Start today. Find someone whom you work with, practice with, compete with, and try to find something new about them which you can relate to. Reach out to them and try to figure out a way to grow in your friendship with them through that activity, and then pray for God to guide you through this time as you grow in community. Most of all, pray that God can use the time for his glory, and that you can eventually show your faith to your friend. For when people meet in community and are passionate for the Lord, then their numbers multiply by the grace of God, and we can happily begin the same process anew.

Dwight Howard's Plan

2010-10-13T05:00:00.000-07:00

Its not always an easy thing to try to use the situations one is in to exalt the name of God. Sometimes we feel like we're just random people who happen to be playing sports, and that we don't really have a proper medium for any sort of life-changing evangelism. We can look at Dwight Howard for inspiration in these times. Howard came into the league with a set plan, picks his battles, and uses action to prove the reality of God's love in his life.

Dwight Howard was, like most professional athletes, gifted from youth with sporting prowess. Both of his parents were/are athletes, and he was sent to schools his entire life which allowed him to harness his gifts in a competitive environment. When he was drafted in 2004, he famously proclaimed that he wanted to use his status as an NBA athlete to "raise the name of God within the league and throughout the world." Howard has a plan here; he'll use his status to try and be an influence on the inner circle in which he takes a part, and spreads that influence to those looking on as well.

Isn't this an apt looking glass through which we may view our own mission? We can translate Howard's mission to ourselves: Use the position God has put us in to influence those around us, and live a godly life for those looking onwards in curiosity. Howard isn't the most in your face Christian ever either. He does have moments in which he boldly proclaims the gospel (slamming Phillippians 4:13 on the backboard during the Dunk Contest comes to mind) but for the most part he goes about his life confidently and with quiet action. He was nominated in 2009 for the Jefferson Award for Charitable Athletes. His blog gushes about how much Haiti needs help, and he's done his part. Furthermore, he still finds time to help out with the youth programs at his home church.

We don't need to have amazing skills or influence to serve God. We need to follow God where he leads us and do our best to help those around us know God better. The opportunities may come infrequently and perhaps at inopportune times, but if we are confident in God's plan, then he will reward us with great chance for ministry.

I can do all things through him who strengthens me. -- Philippians 4:13

The Value of a Good Teacher

2010-10-06T22:45:00.000-07:00

Think about the athlete you like the least. If the person is anything like mine, the person is arrogant, self-centered and egotistical. The person isn't grounded and assumes that their talent and skill can carry them regardless of whatever competition may come. I think it goes without saying that, in a vacuum, we don't want to be arrogant, but in sports we can forget that at times. Some teachers may teach us to be ruthless, fearless, and even careless at times. Often the winner's mentality is based on the assumption that you are the best and there is no room for doubt. When someone grows up with this mentality its easy to see why they may crash and burn when they fall. This mentality needs to be remedied early on with the choice of a solid mentor.

Unless you truly are the greatest athlete ever, there's slim to nil chance you're going to get anywhere without the guidance of those who know better than you. These people can help you hone your craft and allow you to learn from experience. Whether its a coach, a supervisor, an advisor, or a parent, these people can profoundly shape your world view in addition to your athletic ability. As responsible people, we need to examine our teachers with a broad spyglass so that we can ensure that when we allow ourselves to be molded that we come out as better people. I've definitely seen coaches who are respected for their knowledge but I couldn't dream of working under because their goals simply don't align with mine. If you allow yourself to be changed by the wrong mentor, you may end up similarly to the person we thought of earlier. This mentality doesn't stop with sports. In our spiritual lives there's no sense in attempting to live and learn by ourselves--we need accountability, coaching, and help from those who know better than us. That said, coaching does nothing if we're not ready to be molded, and we need to be sure that our coaches will lead us where it is we want to go.

And Jesus said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men." -- Mark 1:17

Jesus called his men with direction, purpose, and confidence. These men made a choice to follow Jesus based on these actions. When we go through our spiritual and athletic endeavors we need to be confident in our teachers designs so that when we take a leap of faith we can land in the right place. The disciples were never perfect--they often quarreled amongst themselves, questioned their master's abilities, and avoided work when it was difficult, but they had chosen a master who had also made a promise to them. As long as they would follow Jesus, Jesus would continue to work them in his amazing fashions. Discipleship isn't always a process of perfection; we have teachers because we recognize our need to improve.

The right teacher is right because they have the qualities we're willing to sacrifice ourselves in order to gain. Do not choose a teacher because you want to improve yourself; choose a teacher because you need to change what you're doing wrong. Jesus has a teacher in mind for you so that he can work to fix that which you've clung to in vain. Discipleship is a two way street to be sure; teachers choose us because they see potential in us. That said, the choice to follow is on us. Pray, search, and be intelligent in your choice so that you can be pleased with where you end up.

The Activism of Kaká

2010-09-29T05:00:00.000-07:00

American fans may not know too much about Kaká--I sure didn't. My friend George tipped me off about him, and I've been engrossed ever since. Kaká is a midfielder for Real Madrid, the cover athlete for the popular video game FIFA 11, and a former member of Time's 100 Most Influential People. The picture you see on the left is him after Brazil won the World Cup in 2002, and Kaká is known for such displays after other championship victories.

Kaká was born in Brazil to a reasonably well off family that allowed him to pursue soccer without too much distraction. As a child he was set apart early for his skill and talent. For most of his early years he focused on soccer, but he had a devastating injury when he was 18. Much like other great Christian athletes (see: Barton, Daric; Patrick, Andy), he dove into a pool and didn't quite find the deep end. He found out later he had broken a vertebra, was temporarily paralyzed in parts of his body, and wasn't sure he'd ever be able to play soccer again. Fortunately, as Kaká puts it, "the doctors said I was lucky; I am certain that it was God's will." Kaká recovered, and pursued his career with a newfound zeal for showing God how much he appreciated his healing hand.

Among other amazing things in his career, he was named an ambassador of the United Nations World Food Programme, and was the youngest person ever to be named as since its inception in 1960. Despite his status as a successful athlete, Kaka remained a virgin until he was married in 2005. He has claimed that when he was young, he “learnt that it is faith that decides whether something will happen or not." We can learn from Kaká that prayer is not simply another drop in the bucket of hope; rather it is a guarantee from God that he will take care of the situation in his glorious and magnificent plan.

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. -- 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.

We should all be so blessed as to live our lives with Kaká's faith; attributing all success and glory to God, praying nonstop for everything in our lives, and rejoicing in every time God blesses our endeavors and answers our prayers.

The time for God

2010-09-22T21:57:00.000-07:00

Often times people feel like they need to take time out to focus on God. Most Christians feel guilty at times and feel like they've been focusing so much on their daily lives that they need to separate time out of their busy schedules and focus on God. Many very strong Christians may encourage you to do this, and I wouldn't argue against any time one takes to focus on God, but perhaps the problem here is perspective.

Let's look at the example of the competing athlete. She's in the stretch run, trying hard to make the playoffs, and it seems like every waking hour she spends is devoted to finding whatever edge it takes to get to the postseason goal. When she gets home at the end of the day, opening the Bible and reading is so hard that she finds herself looking at the words but not comprehending them due to exhaustion. She resolves to take 15 minutes at the beginning of the day to read her Bible, and focus on God. This works for a while, but after a while it becomes 12 minutes before she rushes out the door. Then 10 minutes over breakfast. Then 5 minutes while brushing her teeth. Then every other day she fits it in. It's obvious every day that it's just a chore she puts herself through, but she feels justified by the routine, and so she sticks with it.

If you're anything like the above gal, then maybe you need to focus on living out God in a broad scale. Your prayers should be focused on God giving you direction, mission, and clarity. If your goals in life that you work towards are for the benefit of God, then you won't have the need to set aside time for God simply out of necessity. By all means, continue waking up in the morning and reading, praying before sleep, and praying before every meal, but don't let that be your daily God fix. Live God in your actions, job, work, competitions, practices, and relationships and he'll give you all the fulfillment you'll need.

for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose. -- Philippians 2:13

Let's face it--we stink. Trying to schedule God into our lives is backwards and mostly ineffective. God didn't save us in order to have the portion of our lives that it's convenient to allow him. God saved us so that he could use our whole lives for him, and so that we can delight and rejoice in his plans for us.

Dan O'Dowd and the Rockies' Mission

2010-09-15T23:07:00.000-07:00

An article was published a few years ago about the tight bond between the Rockies, and the high concentration of Christians on the team. Lead by general Manager Dan O'Dowd, the Rockies organization sought to put a higher emphasis on player development and team chemistry built through finding and acquiring players of high moral character. O'Dowd acknowledges the high ratio of Christians compared to non other teams, but he asserts that he simply tries to find men of good ability and good moral character. No player was ever questioned about their faith, and the players attest to an accepting atmosphere regardless of religion.

We can take a good lesson here. Everybody in baseball knows that the Rockies tend to have a lot of Christians--the players attending Chapel, the general manager, former manager Clint Hurdle, and even the chairman of the team claim faith in God. This doesn't stop them from trying their best to remain accessible to the places they were called and live as examples to those around them. When I heard Heath Bell speak at Giants Fellowship day some months ago, he spoke of how when things turned sour in his life, he was embraced by the Christian guys on the Padres and how he felt the love of God through those men. We can only try to live like such men; where our faith in Christ guides us with such a strong moral compass that when it comes that people need a rock to lean on, they find Christ using us to help them out.

Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. -- Colossians 3:12-14

When our Gaze does not meet God's

2010-09-08T20:26:00.000-07:00

When I was in High School, I based a lot of my personal self-worth on sports. God was just a steady constant for me, school wasn't worth my time, and my social life was reasonable enough. During my sophomore year of High School I began to put a lot more of my dedication into sports in the hopes that I could finally excel at a sport I tried. During my Senior year, I caught an awful 48 hour flu two days before a crucial meet for Cross Country which caused me to miss the meet. I turned to God afterwards, but it was in a confused, bitter, and angry manner. I was still recovering from a bout with Depression from the year before, so my prayers weren't quite what they should've been.

How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me? -- Psalm 13 1-2

I'm sure we've all felt like the psalmist at some point. We work hard for things, we pray, we thank God for our gifts, we do our best, and for some inexplicable reason it doesn't work out. Maybe we're not good enough for the goal, or circumstances beyond our control stop us, or maybe we just mess up along the way. In times like these it's easy to blame God and to wonder why he hasn't helped his loyal followers achieve their goals.

Look on me and answer, O LORD my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, "I have overcome him,"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall. -- Psalm 13 3-4

It's easy to forget at times like these what hold the world still has on us. We may say we trust in God, but oftentimes prosperity is just as difficult to remain grounded through. We feel like perhaps we've overcome some adversity in the past by relying on God, and now he's rewarding us with a time of accomplishment. We need to remember that God does not operate on a "Worship=Worldly Success" model. We can never let our gaze stray from God, even when the enemy may lure us away and subsequently taunt us when we fall.

But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing to the LORD,
for he has been good to me. -- Psalm 13:5-6

Every time I read this passage, I imagine David's physical state. I imagine a man yelling at God and probably crying. His hair is a mess from all the shaking he's done. He's sweating because of the physical toll the stress is taking on him as he unleashes his emotions on his Father. Like any kid, he's losing himself in anger at everything but himself. I imagine things this way because this is what I did when things got screwed up when I was in High School. I got angry, I raged, and I forgot what I owed to my father even in these times of hardship.

I think back to my own parents during this time. They rebuked me when I screwed up, but more importantly they remained patient with me as they knew that I needed to figure out what was really important to me. They waited patiently as I toiled through the mental gymnastics only to come out on the other side exhausted and needing love. When I did, they were there to assure me that everything would be alright, and that they were here to help me every step of the way. I came out knowing that sports, while a good thing and worthy of our best efforts, are not the reason that I am loved. God is the same way, multiplied infinitely. We can no longer see God in times like this, and we assume it's because God has turned his gaze away from us in our most desperate times. The reality is that it is we who have turned away because something glistens and pries us away from the rock of dependability, love, and trust which we forgot we so earnestly need.

As you may rant at God, I hope you come out on the other end exhausted and ready once again for God's love. God did not put you in the awful situation you're in now, but he is ready to fix it for you. Let us remember everything God has done for us, praise him for it, and rest easy knowing that he loves us in spite of how much we may misuse his gifts and forget his unending love.

Brad Ziegler's One Verse Evangelism

2010-09-01T05:00:00.000-07:00

If you don't know anything about Brad Ziegler then you're probably in the majority. Brad is a relief pitcher for the As who broke the record a few years ago for consecutive scoreless innings to start a career. This feat was especially cool considering that his submarine style of pitching induces a lot of groundballs (which means he has to rely on his defense for outs) and the fact that he was not a highly regarded prospect (he was asked to switch to the submarine style after pitching coaches came to the conclusion he probably wouldn't be very good overhand.) These facts combined together make it so that only a few people ask for Brad Ziegler's autograph--the big As fans and the underdog lovers mostly. When Brad signs an autograph, he also writes down the phrase "1 John 5:5."

This is normally the part of the blog where I quote the verse in italics, but I'm not going to do that. Brad says that he writes the verse down partially because he loves the verse, but also because most people will have to go look it up. Brad uses this as a way to redirect people's praise for him back towards God and the Bible. I love this tactic for a few reasons; he lets the people choose if they want to read it or not, he leaves them with a permanent sign of his faith, and he picks a powerful verse which summarizes the entire gospel.

The moral here is that if you're not sure how to interpret the Bible for others, or if you don't necessarily want to screw things up, then just let the Bible speak for itself. If folks come to you with questions about Christianity and your belief, just go straight to the word and let God do his work. God gave us his word so that we could use it for ourselves as well as let it shine to the Earth as the good news. Don't be ashamed of the word; let God's magnificent deeds do for others what it has done for you.

The Sports-Related Prayer

2010-08-25T05:00:00.000-07:00

When I was in High School I did full seasons of five different sports at different points in time. Few memories stick with me like the time my JV Football coach picked me out of the team of over 70 to pray. I didn't really know how to react at first--questions about the relevance of prayer in public school, the morality of praying for a game's outcome, and many other things quickly swirled through my mind before instinct took over, and I simply bowed my head and started praying as I had done many times in the past. I prayed for safety, that God's hand be over us, and that we grow as a team. It seemed to satisfy the coach enough that he continued to ask me to pray before each game, and I prayed basically the same prayer 10 times throughout the season while wording it slightly different any time. Why was I so nervous, insecure, and awkward, and what could I have done to fix that in such a rough time in my life?

"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the spirit intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express." -- Romans 8:26

Its not easy to know exactly how to go about prayer. New believers or questioning folk certainly see the idea of talking to a supposedly omniscient and all-loving God to be somewhat trivial, nonsensical, or downright silly. As new believers grow up they often take up a mantra which may sound something like "Pray for the strength, but get the job done yourself." Its a good thing the bible tells us how to pray since we can't figure it out for ourselves (at least most of us can't.)

"This, then, is how you should pray:
Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
your kingdom come,
your will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
Forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from the evil one." -- Matthew 6:9-13

What can we learn from this prayer (that we've all heard before, and even memorized?)

1) We need to begin prayer with affirmation and praise for God. There's nothing awkward about praising God for all that he is--powerful, loving, great, etc. We need to remind ourselves of this as much as anything; starting our prayer with these affirmations puts us back into the mindset that God is fully capable of answering prayer. We need to pray with confidence and faith, and not simply hope and routine. Asking for prayer but not expecting anything is a defeatist attitude which sets us up for failure--let's believe that God will help us when we go to him.

2) God's plan is better than whatever we have in mind. While Jesus does tell us that he wants us to come to him with everything in our lives (and the lives themselves for that matter,) adoration of God should beget the wisdom that he can take care of it much better than we can. If I am hungry, I do not ask God for a brown haired man in a black suit to come by and drop off his half eaten BLT from the local deli; I ask God for food. Whatever way God wants to give me food would be more than I'm capable of doing at that time, and I can be confident that God will provide for me. Let's take the same attitude towards the outcome of the game. We don't need to pray for victory; desiring God's work in the outcome seems infinitely more fruitful than me getting my way. Furthermore (and this is me spitballing) I'm happy to know that God doesn't limit his ways of working to my feeble and short sighted mind-he works on a much bigger scale to provide for his children.

3) Pray for the grand scale as well as the immediate. Its good to give up things that press on you to the Lord, but be careful not to become too wrapped up in them. God has everything else about us in mind, and he wants us to give that all up to him too. So we may pray for our current job search or difficult exam approaching, but we also need to affirm his guidance and continue to rely upon him in the future.

So as players, fans, and coaches we need to take this model directly for our game related prayers. Thank God for his providence in allowing you a field to play on, fans supporting you, the money to enter the league, and the fact that our ability to execute athletic achievements has zero bearing on our salvation. Pray that God can work through the game and the competition; that he uses the time spent competing and striving for him rather than our own proud devices. Pray for humility in victory and for confidence in loss--God is working beyond the scale of this one game. Most importantly, pray that you do not allow the evil one to use your passion for sports as a way to draw you from God. Pray for the wisdom of how to use your God-given talents and passions in a way that glorifies him.

There's nothing wrong with praying for Sports--they're part of the everything that Jesus wants to handle for us. We simply need to take the same attitude towards it as we do the rest of our lives. God wants to use it, you, and everything else for his glory, and we need to pray for the wisdom to recognize his plan as he reveals it to us.

Jeremy Affeldt's Realistic Belief

2010-08-18T05:00:00.000-07:00

If you're not a Giants fan or as big a follower of Christian Lefty Middle Relievers (CLuRMs) as I am, you may not know about Jeremy Affeldt. Let's start with the basics; he's a Christian, an athlete, and he makes no claims to live those two lives separately. He runs a blog and frequently makes efforts to speak at charities and events like the recent Giants Fellowship Day last Saturday. He's dealt with injuries his entire career, and many times has had to face the uncertainty of knowing whether or not he will ever again be able to effectively do that which he feels God has called him to do. A few things I gleamed from his talk:

Affeldt is honest with God and his faith. Despite the fact that he's a professional athlete he, like the rest of us, constantly faces frustrations with the path his life takes. He also doesn't attempt to simply let things slide and accept it. Affeldt constantly makes an attempt to understand God's plan for his life so he can better fulfill it. He claims that he (sometimes to a fault) "yells at God." Often times this yelling arises from an inner desire to follow his own path instead of God, and when these two ideas collide he's stuck in the middle frustrated. I'm sure we can all relate to this; God's plan is rarely the most obvious and direct path. Jesus has an answer for this though;

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house there are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going." -- John 14:1-4

Jesus is both the road paver and the guide. We walk the road ourselves, but Jesus has gone ahead of us to insure that the path is true and has come back to guide us anyway. Unfortunately the presence of the Lord is often not enough to calm our own stubborn hearts. We continue to fight even though we know the correct path to take. We need to remember not only God's guidance but his assurance that things will be fine. The path is scary, this is certain, but the savior of all mankind has gone out to insure that the path is not too treacherous for us to undertake. That's not to say there aren't dangers along the way:

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." -- John 10:10

During his talk, Affeldt also stressed the necessity of following Jesus and

the threat of Satan. "The thief" as Jesus refers to him here comes to steal, kill, and destroy. This verse comes from a passage explaining Jesus as the shepherd and us as the flock; the thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy us (the sheep.) It's not enough unfortunately to think of the devil as just an evil force bent on nondescript bad acts; he wants to keep us from God for all eternity.

How do we stop this from happening? We need to stay close to the shepherd. Jesus is the embodiment of love, to be sure, but part of that love is protection. He is the savior who goes off to take back the one stray sheep. He is the savior who will lead us in victory in the end times. Most importantly, Jesus is the savior who would rather himself die than allow any of us who want to follow him be taken by the devil. Jesus is more powerful than our frustrations, our inhibitions, and our concerns. He is more powerful than the thief, the murderer, and the destroyer. This is the crux of Affeldt's argument; all we need do is stay close to the shepherd and he will guide us down the path he knows well.

Loving the Anonymous Referee

2010-08-11T18:30:00.000-07:00

We've all had it happen to us--as coaches, fans, or as players. We've had a call go against us. Maybe we were one out away from a perfect game when the first base umpire botched the call, or maybe a player threw up a hand to stop a surefire goal and it wasn't called, or maybe our son was ejected from the game after just a dirty look. Its easy in these situations to blow up; to vent our frustration and tell the official just how wrong they are. After all, they wronged us, and as the victim we're entitled to a little lip, right? While the world at large may agree with this and push us to hold this attitude, we have to remember that we don't live by what the world tells us.

"With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God's likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be." -- James 3:9-10

As is a recurring theme in this blog, I'd like to stress the importance of living every aspect of our life for God. When we go to the ballpark, we're not just fans of a sport; we're still living examples of the love of God. We need to remember that the men and women officiating a game are just as much God's children as we are, and we're just as much a sinner as they are. It may be culturally encouraged to get passionate about sports, and vicariously make enemies of the officials, but God calls us to reject such a culture's mindset. Despite the fact that its fun to bark at referees and boo, if only to be part of the community around you, that's no reason to live a second life on the field then you do in the rest of life. Sometimes as citizens of the world we're looking for an excuse to get mad at something, so we look for ways we've been wronged and speak out. This is the wrong way to deal with our anger.

"Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." -- Ephesians 4:31-32

God teaches us that if we are to model our lives after Jesus, then we must be ready to forgive trespasses against us. Do not allow yourself to drift back into anger by lashing out at the seemingly anonymous person behind the whistle. While passion is a fine thing to have, we need to let God direct our passion towards his goals instead of letting it run free like a wildfire. Speaking from experience, I know that I am often not able to tame my tongue when I do it by myself. At my core I am a bitter, selfish, proud man who thoughtlessly mocks those around me. In my case, I pray that the Lord helps me tame my tongue and instead gives me ways to practice using my tongue for the building up of others. I imagine I'm not alone in my struggles against this sin, and I've found that letting bitterness during sports have any place in my mind only allows the poison to spread.

So friends, don't take the easy way out. Even outside of sports, don't slander and mock public figures simply because they seem anonymous and outside earshot. Every thought we give to that mindset; every space in our heart we're allowing it to rent is another place in our life we're barricading God from entering. Let's humble ourselves and allow God full entrance into our lives instead of just the parts where it's convenient.

Player Profile: Tim Tebow

2010-08-04T05:00:00.000-07:00

With NFL training camps recently breaking, controversy is beginning to swirl again about last year's high draft picks. Few figures in the draft class are as polarizing as the newly drafted Broncos quarterback Tim Tebow. While he's praised as an amazing college quarterback, few experts have him pegged to be a success in the NFL, due to his team's reliance on the Spread Offense (a formation which is often employed to great success at lower levels, but rarely sees success in the NFL.) What's most interesting to me though is how unabashedly brave he is in using his platform to preach the Gospel.

If you follow college football closely, you've probably heard the story of young Tim. He was born to Christian missionaries in the Philippines. When his mother was pregnant, she became infected with a condition that threatened her life should she go through with the pregnancy, and doctors recommended an abortion in order to insure she lived. She insisted on having the baby, and Tim grew up learning from his parents about the Lord. Despite being homeschooled, he played football extensively at a local school in Jacksonville, and accepted an offer from Florida to play college ball. At Florida, his career took off. He earned a Heisman Trophy his sophomore year, was third in the voting in 2008, and 5th in 2009. He continually impressed fans with his ability to both throw and run efficiently, and lead his team to BCS Championship games twice. He was drafted by the Broncos last year despite concerns that he does not have the talent to excel in the NFL.

To say Tim is a great football player is easy, but its not giving him nearly enough credit. To fully understand his motivation and desire, you have to look to his roots. Tim has used every platform he's been given up to this point for the Lord. Not only does he do the little things like writing bible verses on eyeblack and praising the Lord in postgame interviews, but he does community service extensively in the offseason. He's brought people to Christ while visiting them in jail cells. He takes mission trips back to the Philippines spreading the word and giving medical help to those in need.

"I could spend my Spring Break hanging out; having fun. Or I could spend my Spring Break ministering to Orphans, people in the Hospital who only have a few weeks to live...and I think: 'What really matters?'"

Tebow doesn't take his stand lightly. In an interview with ESPN, he states that his goal has always been to use football as a way to get to a place where he can tell people about the Lord. Where other athletes shy away from the spotlight and insist that children don't look at them for an example, Tim embraces it. He uses football because he wants to show everyone else how he's able to live life so joyously. This may seem proud, but it enforces faith in the Lord. The scriptures tell us that we should be living examples to Christ, and be bold in how we live our lives in faith so that others may see our confidence in Jesus as real, genuine, and providing.

"But, "Let him who boasts boast in the Lord." - 2nd Corinthians 10:17

The example we can learn from Tim is that we shouldn't be shy about what the Lord is doing with us. We need to aspire to greatness and be confident that the Lord will bless our endeavors if we plan on using them for his glory. We can use the Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25:14-30) as a parallel. The Lord may give us small portions to start, but if we prove faithful in using our gifts for the Lord, he will bless us in abundance as we have learned the proper way to use our gifts. Perhaps Tim is simply being entrusted with a greater portion due to his faith and diligence. While we may not all earn the platform that Tim has due to our individual gifts, we can all take pride in what the Lord has given us.

The moral here is to give the Lord praise in all you do. Shout to the world what the Lord has given you; the Lord delights in having joyous children who love him and tell the world of his love. If we are faithful, diligent, and loving in our lives, then perhaps we will simply end up as Tim has; our cup overflowing with grace, mercy, and opportunity.

SFNewTech Recap

2010-07-30T18:17:00.000-07:00

I wrote this piece after attending an event for SFNewTech. It's a little more freestyle than I usually go with my posts, but I was hoping it would help the organizer draw some looks with innovation.

So you finally decided to pull the trigger and come to this SFNewTech thing, huh? You've heard thing from friends about how they saw some amazing new ideas which sparked their own creativity and got them out of their rut at work. You remember hearing about your friend who met a man there who ended up helping her start her own business. You couldn't ignore it any longer; there must be something to the events there that keep people so interested and coming back, so you decided to attend the event on the 21^st, and how did it go?

You showed up around 6, which was as quick as you could get there from work, but luckily the event was geared around people scrambling from work, and there was even a taco truck waiting and people were enjoying drinks. You caught your breath and strolled in to be greeted with a smile and a nametag to make introductions easier. Waltzing to the bar somewhat nervously, you were greeted by a software engineer from AT&T who wanted to know all about what you do. You explained your situation, and asked about his. He admitted this is was first time here too, but he'd already met some great people who swore by these events. You found out you share a love of social networking and exchanged business cards, twitter account names, and added each other on linkedin. You had already made a friend within 5 minutes, and you had your ear on several other conversations going on. There were well dressed venture capitalists, bright eyed innovation scouts, and charismatic product managers eager to share all about whats going on in the technology world with you. Before you know it, the event started.

You found a seat next to the man you met earlier, and began listening to the talks. First you heard about Doochoo, which aims to be a building platform for opinion-related apps. They talked about Couchin, which allows you to ask your friends opinions on movies, television, and other media through a Nielsen-lite rating system, and you were already intrigued. Before you know it, a man from Lunch.com talked about how their new community feature lets you further personalize your social networking by allowing you to facilitate opinions from people who are similar to you. You agreed that you'd rather one opinion from a friend then 800 opinions from the masses, and vow to sign up later. Next a man from Crisp talked in a no-nonsense manner about how they plan on helping companies weed out garbage from online communities through profiling their chat behavior. Then MotherApp raved about how they'll allow folks to make apps that span across multiple mobile devices, instead of restricting themselves to just the iPhone or the Android. Finally, Sococo aimed to solve your problem of having meetings with your branches across the country and the world by selling virtual meeting rooms where you can chat, share media, and network in a secure environment.

There were even people like you, who got a turn on the mic to promote their new startup, or were looking for connections having moved to town just recently. You were amazed at how it seemed like so many people were just like you—trying to find that one spark to catapult them up the chain in Silicon Valley. This was more than a think tank you realized. SFNewTech is people helping people make their careers and lives better. It's no wonder that people keep coming back. You walked out the door with 5 business cards, a great new idea for your product, and a vow to pencil in the next three events, because this is too good a resource to pass up.

Disassocation, Trust, and Bunting

2010-07-28T05:00:00.000-07:00

The conundrum of disassociation is something that affects everyone to be sure, but Christians in sports need to be especially wary of it. I spent a lot of time crafting that opening sentence, so you should keep reading and see what I mean by it. By disassociation I mean the quandary of whether or not to tell people of a certain important aspect of your life knowing the repercussions it may bring. For example, a homosexual school teacher may want to shout to the world how proud they are of their life; they may also want to hold back on that for fear that it may invite trouble from parents who don't agree. I've even heard stories of doctors and other academics holding back telling the world that they are geeks because of the negative stereotypes geeks hold in such circles.

Let's look at a tangible example. Daric Barton (the 1^st baseman of the Oakland As) told the Chronicle's Susan Slusser recently that he came to know Christ in the offseason. She mentioned in the same article that Daric has been sacrifice bunting a lot more recently on his own volition, because he wants to help the team. To Slusser's credit, she didn't connect these two items directly (other than featuring them in the same piece, and relating them with the vague notion of "being humble and wanting to help the team) but that didn't stop fans from doing so. (see comments for most of the connections) Most of the comments are in a negative tone, since bunting as often as he does while being a good enough hitter that he should be swinging the bat in the hopes of driving the run in, is statistically bad.

I'm sure most Christians can relate to this issue. A lot of Christians have become too comfortable in their faiths, having experienced God's love but lost the fire to share it with others. We may feel we're at a delicate balance in our lives--the money is just enough to sustain us; our families have enough on their plates to think about God; or the ever popular "Evangelism just isn't my thing." While preaching from the pulpit certainly isn't everyone's call, I do believe we need to allow God to work through us, and our circumstances. I would argue that to deny the world of our story in God is to be ashamed of what we have become.

Why are we ashamed? We have allowed ourselves to become too concerned with how the world wants us to think, rather than what God tells us to do. The world tells us that God is a crutch for the weak, a catch-all belief for the ignorant, and simply illogical. So we stay silent. We let the world come to us, and often times feel woefully unprepared for the chances we get to tell people about Jesus. Can't we remedy this? Isn't it possible that we can be a little more up front in our faith, so that when people do come asking questions, we're no longer the two-faced overly comfortable Christian?

So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised. - Hebrews 10:18

With Christian athletes, this takes a very important role. These days folks are trying to examine the mental aspect of performance just as much as the physical role. We're seeing more cases of Performance Anxiety Disorder, Depression, and other crippling mental illnesses. We may fear that the acknowledgement of dependence on God may lead to people seeing us as unstable and/or weak. This is, again, shameful rather than careful. We need to trust the Lord. He has brought you to the place he wants you to be, and he has prepared good works for you to do, and entrusts you with them. We are not alone in these endeavours--we have God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and our fellow Christians to help us persevere. Though it may seem scary at times, and it may be a humbling experience, the Lord will do great things with what meager steps we may take.

So what do we do with Daric's case? Though it's probably not true that his faith has caused him to bunt more, we can trust that this peculiar story has helped out folks reading it. We can learn from Daric that letting the world know that we are Christian will draw scoffs, but it will also draw curiosity and eventual praise. People may use our mistakes as a way to insult God, but God will overcome their misgivings if they are prepared to allow him to work. While we don't need to throw a Bible at every person we meet, we can be more vocal about attributing things in our life to God to the public. Let's start by praying that God will give us confidence, boldness, and trust in him, so that he can do amazing things.

Player Profile: Josh Hamilton

2010-07-21T21:19:00.000-07:00

Josh Hamilton may be the most well publicized name in Christian athletes today. He's had a Sports Illustrated cover story, numerous interviews, and his behavior is scrutinized by both media and organization alike to make sure he doesn't slip. Day after day he proves that he has been refined like silver and gives all glory to God. For those who are unaware, the story of Josh Hamilton is almost too well scripted to be true.

He was the number one overall pick by the Tampa Bay Devil Rays in 1999. He amazed scouts with his effortless power and "No-Ceiling" athleticism. Like most young kids who are athletically gifted, Hamilton was unprepared for life as a professional athlete. He signed for a staggering $4 million up front, and was tossed into the waters just like every other prospect. He did reasonably well his first year, reaching the Sally league (High-A ball) in ample time, and seemed to be working his way towards his destiny. In 2001, though, tragedy struck. He was in a car accident with his parents, and his injury left him unable to play for a period of time. Unprepared for life away from home and without baseball to fall back on, Hamilton began escaping into drugs.

Hamilton had troubles all over, he was an addict, his wife couldn't rely on him, and he felt like a failure. To try and set things straight, he started small. While attending rehab, he worked at a baseball academy in Florida, surrounded by men who loved him and cared for him, and taught him about God. Hamilton attributes a lot of his turn around to the godly men in his life who cared for him because he was a man who needed love; not because he was a great athlete. Within a couple years, Hamilton was in the major leagues threatening for the Triple Crown and carrying teams on his back for stretches.

Every interview Hamilton gives, he is quick to give up all of the credit to Jesus. When Harold Reynolds told him that he really was Roy Hobbs (a reference to The Natural,) Hamilton quickly corrected him and said "It's a God thing." In every interview, Hamilton raves on and on about Jesus, and seems almost flabbergasted as to how much God has taken care of him when he had done so little to deserve such help. Hamilton lives by James 4:7 these days:

Humble yourself before God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you.

Hamilton has truly learned what its like to humble himself before God. He was given great talent, skill, and a platform to preach, but he needed God to help him before he could put any of it to use. God is the creator, and the giver of talent-he wants to help you use it. The devil tempts us at every turn, but God wants to help us resist him. If we are able to resist temptation by invoking God's name and power, the devil will have no choice but to flee before such awesome power.

So what do we learn from Josh Hamilton's story? Giving ourselves to God means giving ourselves to a purpose. Jesus didn't make disciples so that they could simply acknowledge him and go on with their lives; he did so because he wanted strong followers who could prove to the world the power and love of God. If we feel the world is beating us, all we need to do is remember that God loves us, and is using circumstances that we have put ourselves in to make us stronger and more confident in him. Be confident in what God has done in your life; he has done and will do awesome works through you. Prove to the world that God loves through your actions, and God will bless your endeavors.

The Split

2010-01-11T21:54:00.000-08:00

In recent years, gaming has legitimized itself in society. What used to be a weekend distraction for children has now become a lifestyle for perfectly sane adults. As technology crept forward so did gamers' preferences. I believe at the beginning of this console generation a great split occurred as gamers decided what they want out of games--a lifestyle or a distraction.

It's no secret that gaming has become more expensive with time. As gamers have demanded more quality from the developers, the technology required to both create and use such quality has also skyrocketed. With the release of the Playstation3, gamers saw a $600 price tag staring at them if they wanted every feature they've been clamoring for. While this price tag has dropped over time, so has the total functionality of the machine. The XBox360 by Microsoft has only kept its price lower by putting out a product with slightly lower maximum output. The XBox360 originally was a superior product to the Playstation3; probably because as much as gamers claimed they could notice the difference between 1080i and 1080p, they couldn't.

With the prospect of a gaming investment staring at the face of gamers, suddenly they had to decide whether or not it was worth it to start budgeting for video games. The majority of gamers also were coming to a point when there money was their own--the crop of young children during the Nintendo era had suddenly become a harvest of young professionals. These were men and women with their own money to spend, and could theoretically buy as many games as they desired. The question then is, how much do they really care? Are games at this point something to live for, or something that happens to happen while living?

I'm willing to put myself out there and say that most gamers actually made a conscious decision as to what type of gamer they were. Industry veterans might recognize the gamer type-buzzwords that were floated around a lot a few years: Hardcore, Core, Casual, etc. In a society and age when people struggled to individualize themselves, gaming certainly played its part. Just as people decided if they were the marriage type, or the workaholic type, or the political type, so did they decide whether they were the gaming type. Those that did now find themselves probably playing, ironically, one game a ton (World of Warcraft, Street Fighter IV, Modern Warfare 2, etc.) and others to completion. These gamers often maintain a shelf display of accomplishments (now in virtual form thanks to the onset of Achievements and Trophies.) The rest mostly play the games they're given, or find their systems collecting dust either under the DVD player or in the closet next to the rest of the party items.

The question then, is how does the industry move forward? Is it possible for one giant to create a platform facilitating of both cultures? Can one of these groups put forth enough actual buying power to legitimize catering to them? The serious gamers may not play too many games overall, or may buy their games used only to sell them back. The casual gamer may only buy the best games out there so as to insure their gaming time is well spent. With the advent of information being so robustly available to the common man, is it even worth publishing a game that isn't the highest quality?

My theory is that in the next 5 years the trend of gaming company consolidation will probably continue. Studios which can't afford to publicize their game to the masses, or polish it to a crisp will find themselves bought out by larger companies. Games intended for the serious gamer will continue to grow in quality and price, and the trend of fewer games per player will continue. Furthermore, the casual gamer will drift more towards smaller titles and digital distribution. Instant satisfaction and impulse buys will be provided by the $15, 6 hour title complete with a story to tell later.

Then again, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe the idea of self-assigning gamer type is a fashion which has gone the way of the CD collection and the long winded blog post. Perhaps gamers don't even care what they're called, and just want something to keep them occupied until the next big occupation comes. Thoughts?

Comfort before Duty

2009-10-04T23:50:00.001-07:00

Imagine yourself startled awake at Five in the morning by a phone call. On the other end is a good friend of yours (let's call this friend John.) John says he's going out on a rickety boat to sea today unless he hears a reason not to. It's currently Mid-January, and El Nino is ravaging the seas day and night. You feel in your gut that if John were to go out there with little no experience sailing, in a rickety boat, in stormy waters that he will almost assuredly die. What do you do? I feel the answer for most people would be that you would try to stop this person from going out. In all likelihood you would cancel what you're doing until you're sure that this person will not go into the sea and perish so foolishly. You know that John has a lot to live for, and shouldn't go out now.

Why don't we as Christians have this attitude towards ministry? There's a chance that those around us will die tomorrow, and if they haven't accepted Jesus, we know that they will suffer a rather unbearable eternity. One would think with such knowledge on our minds that we may go about our daily conversations differently--maybe that we might actually try our best to help these people we care about instead of sneaking it in when the topic may or may not come up...So why don't we?

Oh the challenges of being human! One of the greatest challenges we face in the flesh is comfort. Everyone to some extent just wants stability in their life, and unfortunately most of the time evangelizing will cause some shaking to go on. We fear that we may lose what we have in friendships, relationships, or even be reprimanded at work for such talk. I know that the majority of people who know me also know that I am a Christian, but am I really living to show Jesus in life, or am I simply reflecting Jesus when it's convenient and hoping to coast under the radar otherwise? I imagine I'm not alone here.

This isn't a new problem; Jeremiah complained about this to God himself. In Chapter 20, he laments that "I am ridiculed all day long; everyone mocks me. Whenever I speak, I cry out proclaiming violence and destruction. So the word of the LORD has brought me insult and reproach all day long." Jeremiah though says that he couldn't contain the voice inside his heart--he had already made the decision to forsake comfort. Messages like this often intimidate us into not breaking comfort for fear of what may come. There is a reason for this though, like everything in God's plan. Earlier in Chapter 15, God puts this to Jeremiah: "If you have raced with men on foot and they have worn you out, how can you compete with horses? If you stumble in safe country, how will you manage in the thickets by the Jordan?" The discomfort we battle is, in my opinion, one of the greatest challenges we as mortals face, yet it is still a preparation for what is to come. We must learn to tell those we love of Jesus if we have any hope of telling those we have trouble loving as well.

Remember that Jesus came to save the shameful, the broken, and the despised. As God's people, it should be our goal to become so in love with him that we have no fear of preaching his word to those that need it most; those that may not have anyone else who will preach to them. The only way we can get there is by racing with men on foot and telling those who may listen freely of the love that has saved us. It's my heart's strongest desire that God does something truly great in my life, but he is a loving God that will not put us in a situation for which we are unprepared. I believe we owe it (and infinitely more) to our Savior to prepare our hearts for what may come when preaching his word. That first step is to abandon simple comfort--God will take care of discarding the rest of Earth's ties.

Oh Writer's Block

2009-08-06T01:38:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had one of those moments when you feel like your head is dancing around an idea, but you just can't materialize it? I've been having that a lot lately with my writing. In my mind, I have the desire to write, edit, and publish, but I haven't been inspired lately. This is probably due in large to the mostly repetitive nature of my life--wake up, look for job, waste time, go back to sleep.

I enjoy writing, and critiquing writing to the point that it's better. Unfortunately I'm not content simply writing for the sake of writing--I hate putting out content that I think is sub-par. This is partly why you may see this blog go at least a week without an entry, and why my sports blog days stopped. An attempt to hold myself to a schedule regardless of other foci ultimately results in regurgitated pseudo-intelligent jargon. What I mean by this is that I don't enjoy simply rephrasing other peoples' ideas with my own personal style. Even if I'm not the first to come up with an idea, I don't like putting my name on something that I'm sure I heard from someone else. I feel like the Sports Journalism industry often results in this--the same ideas by a few quality thinkers repackaged and rephrased for the masses, but I digress.

What is the cure for Writers' Block then? Almost certainly its to have a more eventful and fresh life. Here we reach the dichotomy of the suburbanite--keeping things fresh and inventive while keeping things stable and safe. How then do I inject flavor and feeling while not jeopardizing my mediocre and bland life? Do I read inventive and challenging books? Do I go and see the most interesting portions of otherwise common California landscapes? Are these things worthwhile, or is the truth that we're all just boring people leading uninteresting lives?

Maybe I do lead an uninteresting life, but that doesn't mean I can't write uninterestingly. I'm sure that somewhere in my life there's enough worth and pizazz to entertain a reader for five minutes. To admit to the otherwise is to give up on social interactions in the modern world, and that's too scary a proposition for me at the moment.

Defending Beane

2009-07-21T01:19:00.000-07:00

This post originated as a response to a post on Athletics Nation (a blog which I frequent and you should too) which criticized the idea of holding on to prospects instead of trading them for big ticket names. The poster contended that whichever contending team signs Roy Halladay will win the World Series this year, and that trading Dan Haren was bad since our team would be much better right now with Dan Haren then with the package we got in exchange for him.

I'll link you the original post; and subsequently here is my response:

First lets talk about Haren. You say that trading Haren was a bad deal, but how would we be if we still had Haren? You’re assuming that we’re able to sign Haren to an extension similar to the one the Diamondbacks did, which is 44 million over 4 years, and this probably isn’t true. This year, the team is still bogged down with the contracts of Crosby and Chavez, and any money we gave to Dan Haren instead almost certainly assures that we don’t have as good of a draft as we did, since we can’t sign Green and the like to any sort of decent deal. Furthermore, do you really think that Haren makes this team a contender? Dan Haren was 6.4 WAR last year, and even if he were to somehow improve to an amazing 8 WAR this year, we’re still in last place since we no longer have the bat of Holliday and the decent arm of Brett Anderson. This team right now is awful with or without Dan Haren.

Next, somehow you assume that postseason performance is a constant factor. You’re under the idea that if the postseason were to be replayed again with robots that directly clone the abilities of the aforementioned players, that it would turn out exactly the same, when in all likelihood it would not. Baseball is a game where a couple inches on a short fly ball to right field means a single drops in scoring a tying run, or a few degrees of heat means a ball flies over the fence. It’s perfectly OK to assume that if the Washington Nationals made the playoffs, they have a reasonable chance of making the World Series (remember, baseball is a game where even the worst teams win 1/3 of their games, unlike say football.) What I’m getting at here is that if the As had a few breaks in 2006 and won the series, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. Furthermore, if Matt Stairs hadn’t had a certain pinch hit blast then we’d be talking about how the Phillies couldn’t get it done, and how the Rays (read: a team that focuses on long term growth as opposed to quick gain) truly have the best philosophy. The Phillies, on the other hand, really didn’t pick up a huge signing. Blanton was a very middle-of-the-road starter at best, and yet somehow you think this proves your point because signing guys wins championships, when in fact it only slightly improves a still up in the air outcome.

Furthermore, and I love this: " If the Dodgers get him, even if its for Kershaw, they are going to the World Series, same with the Phillies." How is this an absolute guarantee for success? Both he Dodgers and the Angels last year acquired HUGE upgrades to their offenses last year in the forms of Manny Ramirez and Mark Teixeira respectively, and I don’t see either of them with World Series rings. Just because a team makes a big acquisition to try to make their team win more now it in no way assures a victory.

Remember when the Brewers traded their best prospect (Matt LaPorta) for CC Sabathia, in the hopes of winning it all? Yes, they made the playoffs, but no World Series occurred. My point here is that, while signing big free agents and making trade-deadline deals can improve a team’s chances to make the postseason, it should only be done in a context of a team that has a chance to win. The Oakland As would not have been in that position with Haren, with Harden, with Swisher, or with basically anybody else because of a generally poor team surrounding them. Beane made the Haren deal realizing that, as long as the contracts of Chavez and Crosby are sucking up his funds he will never be able to put together a contending team because he just does not have the funds.

The Oakland As do not sell out every game. We do not buy merchandise in the way the Red Sox fans do, and we are on the shitty end of the Bay Area stick to be honest for marketing purposes. Assuming that we will magically garner the funds possible to make a team viable through holding on to big names and somehow still adding to them other big names is just deluding yourself. Our only hope, as has been for the last 10 years, is to try to accumulate enough good prospects that a team pans out of them that can contend (like Zito, Mulder, Giambi, Hudson, Tejada, etc.) When a team like that comes along, then we can think about making big signings (like we did with Dye.) Until then I’m definitely not in favor of holding on to big names only to watch our team despair in Nationals-esque awfulness.

My point here is that, while Haren would make this team better, it would not make us a contender and we are much better off with a much improved possibility of making the postseason in the future, since our future team will probably be much more well-rounded instead of a Twins-esque 3 man show.

On Social Networking and Impersonality

2009-07-15T17:16:00.000-07:00

Where once there were battle lines and territory markers, now there are only cross-feeds and re-posting. Put into more concrete terms, Social Networking sites have shifted from loyally supported communities to amalgamated rehashings of eachother. Somewhere along the way people lost the notion of having their own personal corner of the internet, and instead began striving for a broader audience. Now there are many people who not only post trite facts about themselves on one site--they Tweet it, and Status it, and Blog it, and any number of high-tech buzz verbs.

The first blog I ever tried was a LiveJournal account, and by choosing it I put myself in with a more purist crowd which championed content over personality in MySpace. This wasn't totally intentional--I just wanted to be part of the crowd, and viewing peoples' livejournals didn't require me to listen to their music. Looking back on the archives, there are only posts of any real substance months apart. The vast majority of the blog was taken up with Quizzes, Tests, and boring recounts of unevenful days. I remember asking a friend once why he never comments on my posts (even though I commented on his.) He responded with an insightful "Because I don't care about what you accomplished in Final Fantasy XI today." Thankfully I was able to move past the idea that the bland things of my life are more important than the bland parts of everyone else's lives.

What's the point of this? I think the majority of the internet either disagrees with me, or hasn't yet come to that conclusion. I don't think I'm the only one out there that only reads quizzes that other people post if I'm mentioned in them. The interesting thing here is that instead of trying to produce solid content which may engage their friends, people instead just try a new audience. There are plenty of tools available for the average person to post something, and then have it simultaneously posted on X different websites to try and fish comments from the populace.

As an unemployed person, I often go onto Craigslist.com and recently in the "Writing Jobs" tab I've seen advertisements for a person who is proficient enough to build up steam for their company over a bunch of different websites. This gives me the image of a man, hunched over his computer, and just typing the same garbage over and over onto any social media site that will have him. For some reason there's this idea that if you spit nonsense enough times in enough communities that someone will like you.

The moral of this story is that I wish people would try to just write more engaging content. A while back there was a big hubbub about Sports Bloggers because they could say anything they wanted...and people assumed that they were real reporters I guess. The reality is that the internet is a true meritocracy--if you write like a 5th grader, you'll get about as much attention. I can only aspire to be a good enough writer that I'm engaging enough that I can get comments without random name drops.

Define Hypocritical: Cross-posted on my facebook account.

Refined like Silver

2009-07-06T12:16:00.000-07:00

One of the most common refrains made in attempts to try to knock Christianity is "Why do bad things happen to good people?" Clearly if there is an omnipotent, all-loving god, then he would make a world in which suffering did not exist. The simple answer to this is that God allowed free will, and free will allows for bad choices and thus bad outcomes, but if we rely on this answer we run the risk of limiting God's power, which is always dangerous. There are certainly instances in which God uses suffering in order to prepare his people for the future.

Since we believe God is omnipotent (he did, you know, create the world after all) we need to always remember that nothing is outside God's influence. Suffering and hardship are indeed part of his plan, and can be seen as a blessing. Take Psalm 66 for example, where the Psalmist is thankful for his current situation:

"Praise our God, O peoples,

let the sound of his praise be heard;

he has preserved our lives

and kept our feet from slipping.

For you, O God, tested us;

you refined us like silver.

You brought us into prison

and laid burdens on our backs.

You let men ride over our heads;

we went through fire and water,

but you brought us to a place of abundance." --Psalm 66:8-12. NIV.

The word refinement is somewhat of a Christian Buzz-Word in that it gets tossed around a lot but isn't examined in any depth often. Regardless, this image is powerful as it accurately reflects man as an impure product. Everyone would admit that there are certain things they dislike about their life; choices that they made that they would have made differently. The Psalmist argues here that suffering is God's way of taking regret and turning it into something holy. Our mistakes, through the refining process of suffering, make us into wiser and hopefully more Godly people. Of course this process is not easy; such mistakes can lead to all sorts of economical, physical, and emotional problems which test our faith in God and life itself, but this is how we are "refined." Just as precious metals like silver are refined in heat and fire, so we are refined as Christians through suffering and hardship.

This presents another quandary for the Christian; why doesn't simply teach us the lesson magically through his "Super God Powers" instead of forcing us to go through suffering? On earth, it appears that the Christian denies him or herself many of Earth's pleasures in order to follow God. Why does God choose to make pleasurable things on Earth only to disallow his people from them? I would argue that things seen as pleasure able by civilization are not necessarily inherently pleasurable. Psalm 49 has some words for this regard:

"Do not be overawed when a man grows rich,

when the splendor of his house increases;

for he will take nothing with him when he dies,

his splendor will not descend with him.

Though while he lived he counted himself blessed--

and men praise you when you prosper--

he will join the generation of his fathers,

who will never see the light of life.

A man who has riches without understanding

is like the beasts that perish." Psalm 49: 16-20. NIV.

It may seem a tired cliche, but we as Christians need to remember that our life lies through God and not through the Earth. The greatest joy of accepting Jesus into one's life is the knowledge that said acceptance begets eternal life with God. As we look around at other men accumulating wealth and vicariously great praise from the world around, we can remember that wealth and the praise of man are only valuable within the system that created them. As we watch the economy crumble around us, it has become very palpable that any wealth we hold is totally dependent on many factors we have no control of. Many men choose to gain wealth within an earthly system, and they reap what they sow. Perhaps they are happy for a short time, but are eternally still at the mercy of the system and will undoubtedly receive nothing at the end of their life but death. If we as Christians decide to place our efforts and faith in the system of God, then we will gain his riches, which transcend this earth. These riches may not allow for earthly pleasure, or the praise of man, but it will allow for safety and infinitely greater rewards in the long term.

God creates suffering and forbiddances in order to refine us and teach us to rely on him instead of Earth. As we make choices within an earthly system and fail, God uses the concept of suffering to teach us to rely on him, and thus reap greater rewards than we could possibly imagine. God gives us free will, and blesses us with a teaching method to show us the benefits of relying on him. The challenge for us then is this: Will we be so selfish as to curse God for his wrath, or will we be wise enough to recognize his love in spite of our mistakes?

Dirty Awful Fun

2009-07-03T15:28:00.000-07:00

Yesterday while killing time I drove past Catamaran Park in Foster City, a park near the house where I spent most of my younger years. The city apparently has spent a great deal of effort turning the entire grass field in artificial turf, and boy does it look nice. I'm seeing this in a lot of parks these days (Danville has a field I umpire at occasionally where base hits turn into Triples routinely) and the suburbs soon will see entire generations grow up playing on artificial turf in areas where the weather is perfect for grass.

I'm not sure if this is good or not. I'm not going to soapbox and here and claim that I'm old and sign of the times blah blah good ol days--but I am going to say that the first time I played on turf I was dumbfounded. After being stomped by Burlingame's football team my freshman year of High School, I got back to the locker room and attempted to stamp the mud out of my cleats only to find they had been scraped clean. Now, when I was a kid I had a new pair of Baseball pants every two weeks because I would slide so much I would tear myself a new...you get the picture. I think I wasn't alone in being a kid that liked getting dirty.

What is the impetus for turf? Is it easier to maintain? You don't have to mow it, or re-paint lines on it for sporting events, or worry about gophers and other such pesky critters, but is that such a big deal? We're eventually cutting jobs in our community I would assume, and furthermore we're taking away a little bit of what ties us to the planet. Now I'll be the first to admit that getting stung by a bee is no fun at all, but is it worth (what I assume) is a multi-million dollar turf project?

Sports play differently on turf--the balls roll quicker and longer, changing the game a bit. You often times have to buy a second set of shoes to play on turf in order to maximize your game; using regular spikes isn't as effective as "turf shoes." I feel like this movement may just be an "Emperor's New Clothes" movement. As in, everybody else in the suburbs is doing it, so we need to do it or else folks won't think we're as postmodern as the rest of the world. Heaven forbid your child comes home completely disgusting from mud football, complete with an ensuing cold and a giant grin on his face that can only come from dirty, awful fun.

Don't think: It can only hurt the Ball Club

2009-02-20T13:26:00.000-08:00

Baseball has a lot of tired cliches. One most people know of is that "Baseball is a thinking man's game." The idea is that because there is a fair amount of guesswork involved with the batter-pitcher faceoff as well as the proper timing of such plays as a bunt, steal, and hit-and run that one needs a certain amount of intelligence to succeed at the game. I'm curious if so called smart baseball actually leads to success in this day and age.

Let's start off by outlining a few "Smart Baseball" plays. I'll use this term to loosely define a term in which one makes a conscious decision to go outside the norm (i.e. just hit it/just pitch it) to try to gain an advantage. Certainly the Sacrifice Bunt/Sacrifice Hit qualify; the team purposefully gives up an out in order to gain a run or move a runner closer to scoring a run. Going by MLB.com we get the following top 5 for Sacrifice Flies:

Minnesota Twins: 74
Boston Red Sox: 62
Toronto Blue Jays: 56
Texas Rangers: 54
Tampa Bay Rays: 52

And the rest tail off slowly between 51 and 34. Now let's look at Sacrifice Hits (mostly likely a bunt, but could also be a sharply hit ball where the only play is at first:)

Colorado Rockies: 90
New York Mets: 73
Cincinatti Reds: 72
St. Louis Cardinals: 71
Philadelphia Phillies: 71

The teams above who lead the league in Sacrifice Flies seem to have little correlation with doing the same with Sacrifice Bunts, as they ranked 16th, 27th, 18th, 20th, and dead last respectively. Whereas the teams who lead the league in Sacrifice Hits ranked 25th, 9th, 21st, 17th, and 23rd respectively on the list of Sacrifice Flies. With possibly the exception of the Mets there seems to be little correlation last year of teams actively sacrificing by doing things both ways.

What else constitutes a smart play? How about the Intentional Walk? If there is a runner on 2nd and the 2003 version of Barry Bonds approaching the plate with one out and a tie game, it is almost undeniably a smart decision to pitch to whichever inferior hitter is following Bonds that day. Let's take a look at teams which issued intentional walks to see if they have any correlation there:

Atlanta Braves: 80
Florida Marlins: 66
Philadelphia Phillies: 64
Detroit Tigers: 63
San Diego Padres: 61

And again the rest trail off between 59 all the way down to 15. There may be some logic here outside the numbers though. Perhaps the teams that intentional walk often do so because their pitching staff isn't particularly good. The Braves had a very weak rotation last year after John Smoltz and the rather inconsistent Jair Jurrjens became their ace. The Marlins were nothing particularly special on the mound, and one could say the same about the Tigers. The Phillies and the Padres though are teams known for their pitching. The Phillies had the strongest bullpen in the league last year, with a closer who never blew a save, and a rotation anchored by Cole Hamels. The Padres as well had at the very least a decent pitching rotation, which could be called dominant at times when Jake Peavy and Chris Young were healthy. The bottom of the roation shows us little as well, since the worst team (the Kansas City Royals) had a rather good young pitching staff, with one of the most underrated closers in the game (Joakim Soria.) This all leads me to believe that Intentional Walks bear little relevance to smart play as well, since there seems to be no corelation between the lists with the aforementioned "smart" sacrifice plays.

This leads me to wonder truly how much thinking is involved in Baseball. Clearly there are times when a smart decision can help, but I'm failing to find any evidence that smart decisions are made consistently by any particular team. Perhaps if I ran a study over multiple years and various managers, but at the very least I can conclude that no team seemed to define themselves by their smart plays. As a fan it makes me curious about real baseball mindsets. Occasionally I'll hear men in the business say the contrary as well. I once heard Curt Young (managers of the A's) say in a radio interview that this game isn't as mental as everyone thinks, and Dan Uggla (slugging second baseman of the Marlins) has made it well known that he just looks to hit the ball over the fence every time and never seems to know what kind of pitch he hit or missed.

The point here is this: Baseball insiders will often say that Baseball is a mental game, and how the complexities are mind boggling and endless. I would encourage you not to take their word on it. Though there are good and bad ways to play Baseball, if you're anything like me you'll derive more enjoyment out of thinking about the game and trying to understand their logic (or lack of it) instead of just swallowing it.

What do you think? Are certain teams or managers more intelligent with their decisions, even if the numbers don't show it? Is the "smart decision" purely a myth? Is there a middle ground here?

Offensive Struggles

2008-05-19T23:06:00.001-07:00

The A's opened the season on a tear, as most people know, and have recently digressed back into mediocrity, or worse. The main reason for this is that the A's haven't been scoring runs, and there is unfortunately an obvious reason. The team was aided by some outstanding performances by guys who shouldn't've been counted on as main offensive producers. Let's look at a few of these:

Kurt Suzuki: He peaked right around April 18th, with a line of .339/.409/.390. He was seeing the ball well--not a lot of power, but a great On Base Percentage and all the makings of a solid contact hitter, which is what the A's were hoping for. They tried to move him up to the leadoff spot, but that experiment failed. Since April 18th (the day he was moved up) he's gotten progressively worse, and is now standing at .237/.300/282, a 2007 line that brings up bad memories of 2007 Jason Kendall. The A's envisioned Suzuki as a bottom of the order hitter, more known for his defensive capabilities, and it looks like his psyche may be a bit fragile for top of the order duties while trying to juggle an ever-shifting starting rotation.

Daric Barton: Barton hasn't lost much playing time with the Thomas trade, although many fans are screaming that maybe he should. Since May 5th his OPS has dropped 60 points and his batting average has dropped 30. He's slugging a mere .338, and though he wasn't projected to be a power hitter, it's hard to justify a guy who gives poor defense and so little pop playing 1st base, a position typically reserved for power hitters without much moblity (Paul Konerko/Carlos Pena types.)

Frank Thomas: The main issue here is that with the acquisition of the Big Hurt, the A's committed to him as their DH, leaving Mike Sweeney on the bench. Sweeney was off to a hot start, and he's still OPSing .813, whereas Thomas is still scuffling with a .690 OPS and a very low .339 slugging. Unfortunately with Thomas, you often get slow starts, but the A's are committed to waiting for him to get his swing back. The drop leaves the DH slot much colder, and that hurts since the DH is so key to the young A's team.

Donnie Murphy: He did his best Marco Scutaro impression while filling in around the infield and gaining the fans love with his swell batting, but he's pretty quickly regressed. This was probably due to the injury which landed him on the Disabled List recently, as he's now OPSing a mere .558 as opposed to the .828 he had at the end of April. Gregorio Petit is doing his best to take away that utility slot from Murphy, but the A's are really waiting for Ellis to come back from the DL and start producing.

All of these guys, combined with the continued inuries/demotions of Mark Ellis, Travis Buck and Santiago Casilla have hurt the A's recently. On the plus side, Rich Harden seems healthy, and could draw a lot of attention if he stays healthy. We're getting a better idea of what the team may look like down the road, and may get a better sink/swim feeling as we approach the mid mark. Should these guys continue to drop to average level, and the producers not pick it up, I wouldn't be surprised to see Rich Harden, Joe Blanton, and Huston Street get more trade rumors as the year progresses.

Cliff Lee?!

2008-05-13T23:36:00.000-07:00

In doing research for this post, I found this little ditty:

June 27, 2002: Traded by the Montreal Expos with Brandon Phillips, Grady Sizemore, and Lee Stevens to the Cleveland Indians for Bartolo Colon and Tim Drew.

Boy, the Indians sure are reaping the benefits of that now (or would be if they hadn't traded Phillips). The A's are hoping for the kind of returns from the Haren deal, but that's a side point. Cliff Lee right now is the hottest pitcher in baseball, with a Hunt for Red October low .067 ERA so far and a 6-0 record in 7 starts. He's the real reason the Indians are doing well--apparently they have a Cy Young winner too, but his stats aren't as good.

What has lead to this sudden rise? Lee was good in 2005, with an 18 win season and a 3.79 ERA. People looked at Lee at that season as a bit of a fluke, and saw him more as a solid innings eater. Let's look at a few things:

1) He's being more aggressive. His strikeouts are up and his walks are down. In 2005 his K/9 was 6.36, and now his K/9 is 7.47, which is quite good. He's also only walked 4 guys in his 50+ IP this year, which is absolutely ridiculous. This, a 2% drop in 3-0 counts, and a 3% jump from his average in Strikeout% (according to baseballreference.com) show he's being more aggressive and going after guys. Such a low walk rate is ridiculous, and uses the Indians defense to his advantage.

2) His bullpen is better. Listen to this little blurb from Baseball Prospectus:
In the middle four months of 2006, nearly half of Lee`s quality starts were blown by the bullpen after the sixth inning (five of 12, in 23 starts overall).
Borowski is fortunately injured, so the Indians instead have the more qualified Rafael Betancourt, and being set up by Rafael Perez and Masa Kobayashi. This bullpen won't blow his leads.

3) He's older, and more seasoned. He's 29, and should probably be peaking at this point quite frankly. The years of bouncing back and forth between success and failure probably have seasoned him a bit, and he may not be as prone to emotional swings. His pitches/Plate Appearance are up 4.02 from his average 3.81, and he still gets out and doesn't walk guys. This to me shows poise.

Only a fool would think Cliff Lee can keep his sub 1.00 ERA, but it's not unreasonable to think he's capable of a very good season--even Cy Young caliber. He's doing all the right things, it's really just a matter now of seeing whether or not batters can catch up to him.

Travis Buck and his swing

2008-05-10T23:34:00.000-07:00

The A's made the interesting announcement today that, in addition to activating Travis Buck from the Disabled List, they have optioned him to AAA Sacramento. The A's want to be sure not only that Buck is completely healthy, but also that he's ready to contribute. The Denorvis debate of last post will rage on for slightly longer, and Buck will be forced to prove himself again. This is an interesting move, but nonetheless a smart one. Buck had options remaining, which I imagine some of the other outfielders may not, so rather than force a choice that doesn't need to be made, the A's can rest easy knowing that Buck can work out those "3 or 4 things wrong with his swing" that plagued him early in the season.

The Outfield will thus remain Cust/Brown/Sweeney, with Denorfia and Davis filling in as needed. Make no mistake--Buck is the starting Right Fielder. He has too much talent and nothing to learn in AAA not to start, but the A's need to be sure he can contribute right now. Especially with the A's recent lack of offense against one of the worst pitching staffs in the league (Sorry, Scott,) Buck could be pulled up very soon. Think of these next few days as glorified rehab starts for Buck, who will be called up as soon as the A's are sure he's once again ready to be the Buck we need him to be.

In the meantime, Kurt Suzuki will stay the leadoff hitter. He remains there because of his above average On Base Percentage and not-terrible-legs. Buck will assume the leadoff spot when he returns, due to his better legs and proven ability (though Suzuki is doing well offensively, his minor-league numbers never suggested he'd be this good, so the jury is still out.) Buck could be back within a couple days, or a few weeks depending on how long it takes to get his swing back, but the message is clear--make it quick Buck, we miss your presence in the field and the plate.

Harden is back

2008-05-07T20:56:00.000-07:00

Curse you Bob Geren.

I have been contemplating this entry a while--it wasn't quite ready on Monday, so I pushed it back to Wednesday. Then once I get home from school to finally type it up, Geren had just made his decision to move Chad Gaudin to the bullpen as Harden returns to the rotation from the Disabled List. Regardless, let's examine each pitcher, what they bring to the team, and what Geren was thinking:

First, "Kentucky" Joe Blanton. Blanton is our "Ace" in the sense that he's #1 in the rotation, the most dependable, and probably the guy we'd most like to face up against the opposing team's best pitcher. In 8 Games started this year, Blanton has accumulated a 2-5 record, which is worse than his 3.88 ERA 22:10 K:BB ratio would show, especially considering the livelihood of the A's bats so far. We assumed Blanton would give us constantly 6-7 innings of 3 run ball, and he has done just that. He's given up a total of 27 runs in 8 games, which is about 3.3 runs per game. His most common (mode) Earned runs though is 2, though he has gone as high as 5 in one start. Blanton was probably given little consideration in Harden's arrival, since he is the most polished of the pitchers, the least likely to be injured, and probably the least fair to deprive of a spot amongst the current starting five.

Next we have Greg "1-3 PO" Smith, the phenom call up who originally replaced Harden. Smith currently leads the entire team in VORP (Value Over Replacement Player) with 10.6, even over the thus-far perfect Santiago Casilla. Over the course of 39 IP through 6 starts he has a 2-1 record and a 2.54 ERA. He posts a 31:13 K:BB ratio, and amazingly leads the MLB in successful pickoffs with 4 (Side Note: Dallas Braden is up there as well with 2, the A's don't run much, but maybe other teams think twice about it too.) Smith only looks to be getting better, but this is his first big-league stint, although he has looked very polished and one wonders what he would have left to learn in AAA.

After Smith, we have Chad "Southern Man" Gaudin, the now bullpen pitcher. Gaudin was known this year for having a near All-Star caliber first half last year before being slowed and then halted by injuries in the second half. Gaudin missed the Japan Series while recovering from an injury but since coming back he's started 6 games, accumulated a 3-2 record and a 3.75 ERA. He has a 26:10 K:BB ratio, and limited batters to a 1.22~ WHIP (Walks and Hits per Inning Pitched.) He has averaged 6 innings per start, but been a bit inconsistent, twice giving up 5 ER in a start but once throwing 7 shutout innings and twice throwing one-run-ball. Gaudin was assured of a rotation spot so far, but is injury prone, and his workload could be a concern.

Next we have former All-Star Justin "The Duke" Duchscherer. Duke lobbied hard last year for a starting rotation spot and was given one this year with Haren's departure. Duke has already had one stint on the DL this year, but in his on-time he has a 3-1 GS with decisions in all 4 of his starts, accumulating a 2.45 ERA in the process. He's accumulated a 18:5 K:BB ratio by relying on his 12:6 curveball that reminds some of us of Barry Zito. He's only pitched 22 innings though, only gong 5 in his first three starts but going 7 in his most recent start. He's never given up more than 2 ER in any of those starts, and has proven to be quite good when healthy. If the Duke has no pain, and if it looks like he's not liable to be injured and start pitching into the 6th/7th more often, then Duke has a strong case on his hand.

Finally we have Dana "All Hallow's" Eveland (Sorry, I'm running out of nicknames here.) Eveland won the 5th rotation spot from Lenny DiNardo in Spring, and since then has accumulated a 3-2 ERA in 7 Starts, with a 3.05 ERA. His ERA is mostly tainted by a 6 ER performance on the 30th, from which he rebounded on the 5th with 7 innings of shutout ball. He has a 30:18 KK:B ratio, and averages close to 6 innings per start. He hasn't done anything to be removed from his spot so far, although that may be not enough in this group.

First of all, I don't advocate removing Blanton, because he's too dependable and tenured. I also don't advocate Duke leaving, since we need to see what he can do when he's healthy as a starter, much like Gaudin last year. I don't advocate getting rid of Smith either, because I can't imagine a scenario in which Smith should be removed and Eveland shouldn't. That leaves us with 4 options:
1) Replace Eveland with Harden. The benefit of this is that Eveland would make for an excellent Long Reliever, and spot starter for when any of our trio gets injured or needs to skip a start. He's had bullpen experience, and since he's young, he might be more ready for this type of role. Out of the young duo of Smith/Eveland, Eveland has been subject to Smith's domination, and Smith should be rewarded.
2) Replace Gaudin with Eveland. Gaudin is injury prone, and only moved to being a starter last year. He excelled in the bullpen two years ago, and has shown dominant stuff even when limited to a bullpen array. Gaudin would be less likely to injure his arm if he isn't forced to go to his slider so often to get guys out multiple times.
3) Move Harden to the bullpen. This is radical idea #1, the other of which I will explain soon. If all of the guys in the rotation are pitching well, then perhaps there is no need for the moment. Perhaps Harden should take the long relief role, and wait his turn for someone to get injured or come back down to earth. Doing this would give Harden a little more time to be sure he's fully recovered, and would give us dominance out of the bullpen should someone falter.
4) Establish a mini-rotation. I honestly don't know if this has been done before, but perhaps Harden/Duke/Gaudin could perform a mini-rotation, cycling the three of them between two spots and the long relief role. All three of them are injury prone, and having each of them skip their third start might prove an effective strategy for giving them all starts but keeping them healthy down the road for September play. If someone gets injured, then nobody has to "return" to starting form either, and simply move back into a 5-man rotation.

Geren chose option #2, and Gaudin is displeased. Chad feels that it will take him a step back by being forced into the bullpen, and I'm inclined to agree. If it were me, I would have gone with option #1 (as much as I'm tickled by #4.) Eveland has shown a higher walk rate than the other starters, which has coincided with a rise in his Ground ball %. I think Eveland is ready to be a big-league starter, but so far Beane has been resisting trade offers, and I think Eveland is probably the most suited to return to long-relief without being stunted.

Harden will instead take Gaudin's spot, probably moving Dallas Braden back to AAA. With Keith Foulke coming back soon, I surmise that one of the team's five outfielders will be sent down--probably Chris Denorfia since Rajai Davis is a strictly better Pinch Runner/Defensive Replacement than Chris Denorfia, assuming our Starting Outfield is Cust/R. Sweeney/Brown. Davis will be used pretty often in that role, since M. Sweeney and Thomas will often need to be pinch run for in the late innings, and Cust/Brown as corner outfielders might need a strong Centerfielder to compensate.

Contemplating Brown and Cust

2008-05-05T22:46:00.000-07:00

The A's have continued their recent success, and remain in 2nd place in the West with 20 wins, 1 behind the League leading Angels and Red Sox. Two players in particular stick out in my mind--Jack Cust and Emil Brown. Even though the pitching has been the real source of the wins, these two position players polarize different arguments for value on the baseball field. Let's outline each player's credentials.

Jack Cust leads the position players in Value Over Replacement Player, a Baseball Prospectus statistic designed to evaluate how much more value a player gives a team than a generic fringe player (Think Todd Walker last year) or a perennial Minor Leaguer (Lou Merloni) would provide. Cust is a walking machine, and has generated an impressive .426 OBP despite a .244 Batting Average. He's hit 4 home runs and recovered from a shaky start to look very impressive, gaining AL Player of the Week honors.

On the downside, Cust is a liability in the field. When the A's acquired Frank Thomas, they made a commitment to using Cust in the field if they want his bat, which will cost them runs in the field. This was no more obvious than in the Angels game wherein he dropped a ball without realizing it, prolonging an inning which lead to 5 runs. He strikes out a lot as well due to his propensity to work deep into counts looking for his pitch/looking to walk, leading to 30 strikeouts to his 25 walks.

Emil Brown leads the team in RBIs with 26, giving him the label of "clutch." The A's brought him in against Left Handed Pitchers, which he has done to the tune of 333/350/436 against them. More interesting though is the 18/26 RBI against RHP. Even though he has an 85:40 plate appearance ratio for at-bats against RHP:LHP, he is still producing RBI's nonetheless against the Right Handed Pitchers. Brown lead the Royals last year in RBIs with 88, and is keeping that label now nonetheless. With Travis Buck out, he has stepped up his game to keep himself as a starter instead of a Pinch Hitter.

On the flip side, he only has four walks on the season, leading to a paltry .296 On Base Percentage. He's already grounded into 4 double plays, more than on pace for his ~14 yearly average. He also is in the top 30 in Baseball in Runners On Base, suggesting he has a high amount of RBI Opportunities (although he ranks behind teammates Mark Ellis and Bobby Crosby,) possibly meaning his high RBI count is merely a product of circumstance.

The question this brings up is, who gets the short end when Buck comes back? Assuming Travis Buck (with his plus defense and 5 tool ability) warrants a starting position when healthy, one of these men will have his time reduced and become mostly a pinch hitter. The answer I believe is in the platoon. The A's will probably carry both of them, letting Chris Denorfia or Rajai Davis (the winner of which battle I'll refer to as Denorvis) get sent down when Buck comes back. This will lead to Denorvis starting in Center, Buck in Right, Cust/Brown platooning in Left, and Sweeney being the super outfielder, filling in for Denorvis and Buck as necessary. Barton/Thomas/M. Sweeney will keep up their little dance, as will Crosby/Ellis/Hannahan/Murphy, and Suzuki/Bowen. That leaves 11 pitchers, 5 of which are starters (Blanton/Smith/Duke/Gaudin/Eveland) and 6 of which are relievers (Street/Embree/Foulke/Casilla/Brown/Devine.)

Next on Wednesday: What to do with Rich Harden when he's healthy, considering the strength of the pitching right now.

The Diamondbacks are for Realsies

2008-04-30T22:54:00.000-07:00

At their current pace, the Diamondbacks can do no wrong. Micah Owings (the team's#3 starter) came in to pinch hit today and blasted a 2 run homer to let Randy Johnson off the hook from a poor 1st start. Edgar Gonzalez has been struggling, but thankfully they have #11 pick overall in 2007 Max Scherzer to move into his place, having not given up a run this year in relief. Their dramatic win today moved them into 20-8, already 5 1/2 games in 1st place in a strong NL West, and 2 games in front of anyone else in the MLB.

This team has so much unlimited power I'm expecting them to give in to the Dark Side. Their rotation is anchored by the 6-0 Brandon Webb (Cy Young winner 2 years ago,) followed by American League All Star Game Starter Dan Haren, then Micah Owings who is 4-0 and helps himself with a .416 Batting Average on the month. The back end is comprised of the Big Unit who has the potential to be dominant (though its not likely) and a top 15 pick of last year's draft who has dominating stuff (though Baseball Prospectus sees him more of a closer.)

Speaking of closer, the bullpen remains a key strength. Brandon Lyon has shaken off his rough first outings, and hasn't given up a run since April 6th, accumulating 8 saves in the process. He's set up by Chad Qualls who hasn't given up a run in 14.2 innings this year and Tony Pena. Despite the departure of former closer Jose Valverde, the bullpen is still strong.

The fielding side of the Diamondbacks though is where their longevity will come from. Eric Byrnes at 32 is their eldest player, and he's hardly over the hill. The middle of the order is anchored by Chris Young and Justin Upton, both high-ceiling power hitters (Upton is still only 21 and has the potential to hit 30+ home runs when he reaches his peak.) Finally relieved of the ghost of Tony Clark, Conor Jackson has come alive to the tune of a .341 average, 24 RBI and 23 Runs.

The farm system is so stocked that they could afford to deal 6 good players to the Athletics for Dan Haren and still have enough talent to produce guys like the aforementioned Max Scherzer. Though this system will probably dry up with their recent success, the Diamondbacks aren't a small market team. True, they are in the bottom half of payrolls this year, but their $15 million a year commitment to an ailing Randy Johnson shows that the ownership is willing to give contracts to players who produce for them.

This is a team, honestly, that has no weak links. Even in a tough division, I get more excited every time I watch them. They're young, they're talented, and they have unique personalities that keep the team fun to watch. Out of all the teams that could possibly dominate for years to come, I'm not too upset by the prospect of the Snakes.

Bullpen Barry

2008-04-28T23:33:00.000-07:00

The Giants made the decision recently to send Barry Zito to the bullpen, in a long relief role. Pat Misch will take his next start, leaving the Giants with four starters with Correia hitting the Disabled List. The Giants can wait until May 10th to decide whether or not they want to put Barry Zito in that slot, so there may be hope for him.

The Giants decided to make this switch in light of Zito's absolutely atrocious start. He is one of only three pitchers to accumulate six losses in the month of April, racking up a 7.53 ERA in the process. Zito, and a 15:11 BB:K ratio. Zito says he knows something is wrong, but claims he just has to pitch through it. He is incessantly booed at Giants games for failing to deliver on his $125 million contract, which at the time was the largest contract for a pitcher (outdone by Johan Santana's recent Mets contract.)

What does this mean for Zito? This is the first time in his career he's going to miss a start. He's never had to go on the Disabled List, and he's never pitched bad enough to warrant being removed from the rotation. Zito has caught some tough breaks to be fair including poor defensive play, but perhaps the problem lies deeper.

Zito's curveball has often been rated as the best in Baseball. When he's on, he flabbergasts hitters in ways that leave them shaking their head speechless as to what they can do against it. But his heyday seems to have come and gone. Zito has become too reliant on the big break, trying to lure batters to chase pitches out of the zone, causing a high walk rate. This has been constant over the years though for Barry.

Perhaps the problem lies in his personality. Zito is known for being eclectic and easy-going, and perhaps his routine over the last several years has simply been that he can pitch through it and things will turn out relatively alright. Oakland was always behind him all the time because of his presence in the Big Three (Hudson/Mulder/Zito.) Even when he was poor, Oakland was behind him. This isn't the case for San Francisco. With the loss of Bonds and the sudden realization that the Giants are a very sub-par team, they want results out of their $125 million dollar man. They boo Zito when he is introduced for his poor performance, and Zito is only continuing their hatred with his performance. He can't keep up his easy-going performance when he plays so poorly and the Giants fans demand Zito blood. Giants fans need a martyr to pin their poor play on, and Zito is begging for it with his high contract and antipathy towards inevitability.

I think this will be good for Zito. He needs to rethink his process--some clutch performances out of the pen would reaffirm him to the fans, and a break from schedule might give him more time to iron out the kinks in his delivery that have developed over the years. He hasn't had to fight for a position for a good amount of time, and perhaps this sudden change will light a fire under him and get him to pitch like the Zito of old. He needs to re-learn that he doesn't need to miss bats to be effective. His 30% Groundball/Flyball rate is too low for an offspeed pitcher of his caliber (and about 10% lower than his average), and can be improved upon to produce more outs.

Zito is obviously overpaid for an innings-eating starter with a ~4.00 ERA (which is what was expected statistically,) but his environment is getting to him. He said on the record last year that he was putting too much pressure on himself as the team's ace, and even did well in his only relief appearance last year. With the loss of Bonds and Giants fans looking for the other Barry to carry the team, Zito is simply digging his grave deeper and deeper with every start. He'll come around, but he'll have to do it in the bullpen, since it's clear that this routine is taking him nowhere, and the Giants are going down with him.