It's that time of year again, ladies and gents. Well, it's that time of the season, I should say. Inter-league play is upon us as we stretch through the dog days of summer and wait for the All-Star Break.
I suppose inter-league play matters because it prepares teams for potential post-season appearances, but if AL-NL matchups only occur during the World Series, then how much play is really necessary? AL pitchers flounder at the plate, and the NL's attempts to use designated hitters pale in comparison to the these already established players on the AL squads.
The American League typically dominates in the All-Star matchups. The pitching prowess outdoes the base-running of the National League. Pitching wins games, plain and simple. Home runs are exciting to watch, but shutting down a man at the plate will guarantee a win more than tacking on runs to the score.
I'm just grousing because I'm an AL gal and only ever supported on NL team, the Cubs, simply because of their underdog status. Heck, I didn't even know Derrek Lee no longer plays for them. He's now a member of an AL team, the Orioles. Welcome, Derrek. Get ready to hit more than ever.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Thank you for lettin' me by myself (again)
I have a habit, whether good or bad, to beseech others' advice but not always take it. I'm guilty of this practice with family members especially. Don't get me wrong; I value my family tremendously. As I'm getting older, though, I find myself drawn to my brothers' viewpoints more than ever.
My two brothers have vastly different personalities, yet they both patiently and intelligently consider what I have to say and what plans I share with them. Bob is my older brother, currently recovering in a rehab hospital from complications caused by surgery. Despite his hardship, he shows active interest in my career pursuits, he takes time to explain baseball play-by-plays and discuss stats with me, and he always supports my journalistic interests. He never complains about what he's endured physically but instead shows limitless interest in his siblings. He is truly amazing, and I chastise myself for complaining when I evaluate what he's experienced.
Patrick, only a year and a half younger than I am but light years ahead of me intellectually, is my brilliant, creative, passionate, funny, charming blood. He has shared his immense musical knowledge with me as he writes his own music. He coaches me through NBA games as I ask fundamentals of the game. He never lets me blame myself for the demise of romantic relationships. He insists on driving the entire five hours when we visit Bob in Arkansas.
Add to this laundry list of their attributes the dynamic Bob and Patrick share when they're together. Plainly stated, they crack me the hell up. The play off of each other with their sarcasm and F-words lovingly peppered into their exchanges (sorry, Mom). They are both extremely generous and polite; I never pay my own way or open a door for myself when I'm with them (not that I expect that!).
Of course, my brothers and I have had ups and downs, just as any siblings do. I wouldn't trade those heated exchanges for the world, though, because they prove our passion of spirit. We would never show detachment or indifference toward one another, and I am grateful for that. I may have numerous failed relationships in my past, but I consider myself lucky to have maintained a familial bond with the two most important males figures in my life.
My two brothers have vastly different personalities, yet they both patiently and intelligently consider what I have to say and what plans I share with them. Bob is my older brother, currently recovering in a rehab hospital from complications caused by surgery. Despite his hardship, he shows active interest in my career pursuits, he takes time to explain baseball play-by-plays and discuss stats with me, and he always supports my journalistic interests. He never complains about what he's endured physically but instead shows limitless interest in his siblings. He is truly amazing, and I chastise myself for complaining when I evaluate what he's experienced.
Patrick, only a year and a half younger than I am but light years ahead of me intellectually, is my brilliant, creative, passionate, funny, charming blood. He has shared his immense musical knowledge with me as he writes his own music. He coaches me through NBA games as I ask fundamentals of the game. He never lets me blame myself for the demise of romantic relationships. He insists on driving the entire five hours when we visit Bob in Arkansas.
Add to this laundry list of their attributes the dynamic Bob and Patrick share when they're together. Plainly stated, they crack me the hell up. The play off of each other with their sarcasm and F-words lovingly peppered into their exchanges (sorry, Mom). They are both extremely generous and polite; I never pay my own way or open a door for myself when I'm with them (not that I expect that!).
Of course, my brothers and I have had ups and downs, just as any siblings do. I wouldn't trade those heated exchanges for the world, though, because they prove our passion of spirit. We would never show detachment or indifference toward one another, and I am grateful for that. I may have numerous failed relationships in my past, but I consider myself lucky to have maintained a familial bond with the two most important males figures in my life.
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