A few weeks ago, I was at the grocery store purchasing assorted... groceries. After grabbing some bell peppers, deli turkey, sea scallops, parmesan, heavy cream, bananas, milk, orange juice, butter, eggs, cereal, bread, gatorade, mustard, pretzels, almonds, pasta, tomatoes, onions, flour, gorgonzola, oranges, cilantro, ground beef, tortillas, whole chickens, limes, tortillas, lettuce, spinach, sugar, bagels, and hot sauce, I proceeded to the checkout lane and unloaded the contents of my cart onto the conveyor.
As I stood there waiting and pretending not to read and look at the pretty faces on the covers of People, Cosmo, Good Housekeeping, Us, and the National Enquirer, the man in front of me looked at me for a couple seconds. I thought nothing of it and quickly averted my gaze from "Tom Has Katie Trapped!" to Readers Digest as the man's items were being scanned.
"Excuse me, did you play tennis?" (It must've been my physique that gave me away.)
"Uhh, yeah, I did..."
"I knew I recognized you from somewhere! I'm Mike... I used to coach you at the club. Ajay, right? Sorry, didn't mean to weird you out there."
"OH! Yeah! How have you been? Still coaching a lot?"
"Well, I'm in real estate now, but I still run some youth stuff in summer at Burns Field. Are you still playing?"
"I haven't played competitively since high school, but I still like to get out from time to time."
3 items left to scan.
"If you get a chance, stop by Burns Field on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We'll hit around for a bit."
1 item left. This seems like a good time to wrap up this conversation.
"Definitely. I'll swing by after work sometime soon. It was good to see you."
"You too. Take it easy."
Timed it perfectly. He just needs to pay and walk his cart out to his car.
"PRICE CHECK ON YELLOW SQUASH."
Fuck.
We both spend the next 90 seconds standing there, silently staring at the gum and mints near the TV Guide.
"Okay, that'll be $78.39."
He pays and leaves with a nod.
And I never stop by Burns Field.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Baseball's Dirty Little Secret
Ozzie Guillen's comments about throwing at batters ignited a firestorm with MLB. But take a look at Jeff Passan's thoughts on the incidents from this past Sunday.
A lot of people are calling this baseball's dirty little secret. False. Baseball's dirty little secret was steroids. It was dirty. It was not little. But throwing at batters is a simple fact of baseball. It has always happened. It is always going to happen. No matter how much MLB tries to curb it, players and managers will do it. The real secret here is that Ozzie Guillen isn't just some foul-mouthed nut.
Guillen admitted to throwing at batters in the past but denied doing it against the Royals on Sunday. Looking at the circumstances, I believe him. He may cuss like a sailor and overreact at times, but he's the only one out there speaking the truth about what goes on in the league.
The bases were loaded with one out. Who in their right mind would tell a pitcher to bean a batter in that situation and allow a run to walk in? Not Ozzie, and I'm pretty sure no manager in the majors would be stupid enough to make that call.
Say what you will about Ozzie. Call him a brute for admitting to throwing at hitters in the past. But take a look at every other manager in the league and think of what they'd tell you if they were off the record.
A lot of people are calling this baseball's dirty little secret. False. Baseball's dirty little secret was steroids. It was dirty. It was not little. But throwing at batters is a simple fact of baseball. It has always happened. It is always going to happen. No matter how much MLB tries to curb it, players and managers will do it. The real secret here is that Ozzie Guillen isn't just some foul-mouthed nut.
Guillen admitted to throwing at batters in the past but denied doing it against the Royals on Sunday. Looking at the circumstances, I believe him. He may cuss like a sailor and overreact at times, but he's the only one out there speaking the truth about what goes on in the league.
"You think I’m going to bring somebody in to hit somebody and they’re going to throw a fastball 82 (mph) at the hands? I’m going to bring in my best guy and make sure he gets it done. That’s Major League Baseball. That’s baseball. That’s the baseball I grew up with. Not the shit they play right now."
The bases were loaded with one out. Who in their right mind would tell a pitcher to bean a batter in that situation and allow a run to walk in? Not Ozzie, and I'm pretty sure no manager in the majors would be stupid enough to make that call.
Say what you will about Ozzie. Call him a brute for admitting to throwing at hitters in the past. But take a look at every other manager in the league and think of what they'd tell you if they were off the record.
Monday, August 4, 2008
In-flight Beverages
I'm not a big fan of domestic flights. They're crowded, rarely on time, and most airlines won't give you a tiny packet of imitation Chex mix anymore. You can't even listen to your iPod during the most uncomfortable and unnerving parts of the flight. And God help you if you have your seat leaning back 4 miserable inches during takeoff or landing.
I don't blame the flight attendants. I really don't. Of course, there's always going to be one snotty one out there that gives the rest of them a bad name, but for the most part, they actually want your flight to be as pleasant as possible. But they have rules to enforce. Bags have to be under the seat in front of you. I get it. If shit hits the fan, that lady's 30 pound purse will smack you in the face. But it's just so damn unpleasant.
It's not like an international flight where they feed you (and airline food, Jerry Seinfeld jokes aside, has gotten much better) and you get a complimentary alcoholic beverage, plus various forms of entertainment to keep you somewhat relaxed during a long flight. That's how flights should be. An acknowledgement of the discomfort we're all experiencing (except you lucky bastards in first and business classes) and an attempt at mitigating the awfulness that is air travel. When it comes down to it, it's the little efforts that make the biggest difference in keeping passengers content.
That's why I love the in-flight beverage service. There are few things more refreshing to me than a can of Coca Cola served with a little plastic cup full of crystal clear ice cubes. (Root beer is one of the few things more refreshing, but I haven't seen it on planes in my lifetime.) Coke usually leaves me with a sugary, sticky feeling in my mouth on terra firma, but not so at 30,000+ feet. Maybe it's a psychosomatic thing. Maybe I'm just so desperate at that point for some sort of small nicety that I ignore my usual disdain for Coke and love the heck out of it. Maybe it has to do with enjoying air travel as a child; knowing that it'll never go back to the way it was and seeking to hold on to every happy tradition and memory I have of it. The "why" is not important. The fact that airlines still serve beverages in-flight seems to be their one saving grace as they cut costs, routes, and employees.
I can't take that can of Coke and ice for granted. It's too hard for me to ignore. I usually ask the flight attendant to wake me up for the beverage service if I'm sleeping because I hate the thought of missing the one part of the flight I truly relish.
When those flight attendants come around with that beverage cart, don't pass up their offer. Don't take the drink and leave it sitting on your tray table while the ice melts and you fall asleep. Cherish that drink. Savor it. The way the airline industry is going, it may not be around for too long.
And that's when I'll start taking Amtrak everywhere.
I don't blame the flight attendants. I really don't. Of course, there's always going to be one snotty one out there that gives the rest of them a bad name, but for the most part, they actually want your flight to be as pleasant as possible. But they have rules to enforce. Bags have to be under the seat in front of you. I get it. If shit hits the fan, that lady's 30 pound purse will smack you in the face. But it's just so damn unpleasant.
It's not like an international flight where they feed you (and airline food, Jerry Seinfeld jokes aside, has gotten much better) and you get a complimentary alcoholic beverage, plus various forms of entertainment to keep you somewhat relaxed during a long flight. That's how flights should be. An acknowledgement of the discomfort we're all experiencing (except you lucky bastards in first and business classes) and an attempt at mitigating the awfulness that is air travel. When it comes down to it, it's the little efforts that make the biggest difference in keeping passengers content.
That's why I love the in-flight beverage service. There are few things more refreshing to me than a can of Coca Cola served with a little plastic cup full of crystal clear ice cubes. (Root beer is one of the few things more refreshing, but I haven't seen it on planes in my lifetime.) Coke usually leaves me with a sugary, sticky feeling in my mouth on terra firma, but not so at 30,000+ feet. Maybe it's a psychosomatic thing. Maybe I'm just so desperate at that point for some sort of small nicety that I ignore my usual disdain for Coke and love the heck out of it. Maybe it has to do with enjoying air travel as a child; knowing that it'll never go back to the way it was and seeking to hold on to every happy tradition and memory I have of it. The "why" is not important. The fact that airlines still serve beverages in-flight seems to be their one saving grace as they cut costs, routes, and employees.
I can't take that can of Coke and ice for granted. It's too hard for me to ignore. I usually ask the flight attendant to wake me up for the beverage service if I'm sleeping because I hate the thought of missing the one part of the flight I truly relish.
When those flight attendants come around with that beverage cart, don't pass up their offer. Don't take the drink and leave it sitting on your tray table while the ice melts and you fall asleep. Cherish that drink. Savor it. The way the airline industry is going, it may not be around for too long.
And that's when I'll start taking Amtrak everywhere.
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