Tonight I went out to see my buddy's band. Or rather the band of whom my good friend's landlord is the bassist. I have known Chris, the bassist for a little over a year and his band, "The Average Joes" is a great time. They play their gigs mainly on the Westside of LA, featured at places like the Venice Bistro and Joxer Daly's.
Now you might think they are like any other local LA band, playing any small venue they can to try and get a record deal. Though that is not their thing. thier thing is "Live Karaoke."
They are a three piece band, Chris on bass, Nick on drums and Darren on Lead guitar. But hey, there is no lead singer. That is the great part, the lead singer is you.
Wherever this band plays the patrons have the chance to be a rock star for a night. They have an extensive list of covers they play, available on their MySpace page, linked above, and you can sing with the band.
Now I have done Karaoke many times at the Daily Pint (Wed and Sat nights) and the Gaslight, known for its way too crowded karaoke nights, but there is nothing like singing in front of a live band.
The timing, the breaks, you are held accountable. Don't kid yourself, even though they have lyric sheets if you need them, you need to know the song you are singing. I have seen them stop mid song and "fire" a singer if they don't have what it takes.
Al in all, think of a live music experience with the kitch of karaoke. But bring your chops because the proverbial hook is there if you can't hold your snuff.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
You might be a regular if...
As I have grown past the legal drinking age I have found that it is always nice to have a regular bar that you go to. No matter where you may end up going on a given night, how ever fancy a new place is, you always have your tried and true place you can go to in case things to not work out. Here is a list of things that indicate you might be a regular that I have been compiling over the last few years.
Signs you might be a regular:
Your bartender knows what drink to pour you without even asking.
Your bartender has your drink waiting for you when you sit down at the bar.
Your bartender has a refill for you before you ask for one and knows instinctively when you will not want another refill.
You can walk into the bar and know that you will be able to sit and talk to at least 2 people that are sitting at the bar.
You get happy hour prices even if it isn't happy hour.
You get comped frequently, maybe even every other drink, or may only pay for the first drink and then tip for refills.
You have a reserved seat at the bar.
That seat has your name engraved on the back of it.
Last call is only for those other folks; you can get a drink right up to closing time.
You have stayed at a bar way past closing time and are not asked to leave.
You go over to the bartender's place after the bar closes.
The bar tender and/or staff come over to your place after the bar closes.
You have had too many and the bartender takes you back to their place to sleep.
You get every shot, beer or any other drink you order in a glass while all the other folks get theirs in plastic cups.
Other regulars regularly buy you drinks.
Employees, other than bar tenders regularly buy you drinks.
You have your own special mug kept behind the bar for you.
The beer delivery guy or distributor knows you by name.
The bar tender or owner occasionally tosses you a free T-Shirt every now and then.
You are invited to the bar's staff only parties.
At Christmas time, the bar puts up stockings for all the employees, you have one too even though you do not work there.
When bartender is busy, you can walk behind the bar and pour your own drink, as long as you let the bartender know.
When the bartender is busy, you start busing glasses so they won't fall behind.
When the bartender is busy, you walk behind the bar and start washing glasses so they don't fall behind.
When the bartender and/or servers are busy, you start taking orders so they don't fall behind.
When the bar has a special event they hire you for the day to help serve drinks.
The bar actually offers you a job.
You know the name of every bar tender and server.
You know the names of all of the cooks.
You know the names of all the bar tender's, server's or cook’s siblings, spouses and/or children.
Those people buy you drink when you are at the bar.
The bar tenders and servers all give you a hug and/or handshake when they see you or you are leaving the bar.
The bar tender asks you to watch the bar while he/she takes a smoke/bathroom break.
You have been asked to help “86” an unruly customer.
You have been asked to help watch the door and check ID’s when the regular doorman does not show up.
The bar is closed due to a power outage but you are still welcomed in to help drink all the beer before it gets warm.
You have met up with the bar tender(s) for some activity outside of the bar.
You have gone camping with the bartender or other members of the staff.
The bar tender asks you to house sit for them while he/she is out of town.
You have the personal cell phone number of all the bartenders.
Servers start asking you for rides home after they get off from work.
You have your own shot named after you and only you and the bar tender know what is in it. Then other people start ordering it.
You help staff members work on their car or do house work just because you can.
Staff members help YOU work on your car or do house work just because they can.
If there is some extra of any drink recently mixed, they pour it into a glass for you.
If any drink is accidentally mixed, they put it in front of you so it will not be wasted.
If the bar tender asks you to tip in cash so your abnormally high tips will not show up on their server’s report and alert management.
If you are allowed to go through the back door, even if there is a big line out front.
If you are at the back of a five deep line at the bar and the bar tender asks you what you want before the umpteen people in front of you.
If are photos of the bar on the wall and you are in a couple of them.
If there is a painting of the bar on the wall and you are in it.
If the owner, who is rarely around, stops to say hi to you when he sees you.
If the owner stops to have a drink with you on the house whenever he sees you.
If the bar tender is planning a trip and asks you for advice about where they should go.
If the bar tender brings up topics you never realized you talked to him about and is truly interested in an update.
When the bartender is asked about a certain beer they yell the question over to you so you can answer it.
When management orders a new beer or spirit, they give you a sample and ask your opinion of it.
The manager asks your advice when ordering new beers, or spirits.
If the bar is undergoing renovations and the manager or owner asks you for advice on what do.
If you have met the owner’s children and they run up and hug you whenever they see you.
If you bring somebody new into the bar the bar tender does not ID them since they are with you.
You can start a tab without having to hand over a credit card or ID.
You can walk out on a tab once in a while without getting charged the "mandatory" service charges.
When the Manager locks himself out of his office, he enlists you to help him break into it.
If you bring your twin brother into the bar, every single employee does a double take and then tells your sibling what a great guy you are.
The bartender lets you plug your I-Pod into the stereo when you come in.
The bartender shows you how and then lets you skip songs on the Juke box when you don't like them.
People call the bar to see if you are there when they cannot find you otherwise.
If you are gone for a few days and folks at the bar do not know where you have been you get a concerned call to make sure you are all right.
Finally if you wank into a bar a full three years after having moved away and the bar tender, owner and servers still remember you and have your drink on the bar before you sit down.
This is a list I have compiled over the past 8 years and covers multiple bars in multiple States. Not all of these are my own experiences, though most are, and I do not condone all of these as accepted decorum at your local watering hole. Basically, do not try to do all of these things at your regular bar or you might, in the least get a talking to or at the worst get 86ed from your favorite place.
As it goes, if you are a true regular, you should know where you stand in a place and the limits that they place on your behavior. In my experience, sometimes a bar can be much more than a watering hole, it can be a family.
Signs you might be a regular:
Your bartender knows what drink to pour you without even asking.
Your bartender has your drink waiting for you when you sit down at the bar.
Your bartender has a refill for you before you ask for one and knows instinctively when you will not want another refill.
You can walk into the bar and know that you will be able to sit and talk to at least 2 people that are sitting at the bar.
You get happy hour prices even if it isn't happy hour.
You get comped frequently, maybe even every other drink, or may only pay for the first drink and then tip for refills.
You have a reserved seat at the bar.
That seat has your name engraved on the back of it.
Last call is only for those other folks; you can get a drink right up to closing time.
You have stayed at a bar way past closing time and are not asked to leave.
You go over to the bartender's place after the bar closes.
The bar tender and/or staff come over to your place after the bar closes.
You have had too many and the bartender takes you back to their place to sleep.
You get every shot, beer or any other drink you order in a glass while all the other folks get theirs in plastic cups.
Other regulars regularly buy you drinks.
Employees, other than bar tenders regularly buy you drinks.
You have your own special mug kept behind the bar for you.
The beer delivery guy or distributor knows you by name.
The bar tender or owner occasionally tosses you a free T-Shirt every now and then.
You are invited to the bar's staff only parties.
At Christmas time, the bar puts up stockings for all the employees, you have one too even though you do not work there.
When bartender is busy, you can walk behind the bar and pour your own drink, as long as you let the bartender know.
When the bartender is busy, you start busing glasses so they won't fall behind.
When the bartender is busy, you walk behind the bar and start washing glasses so they don't fall behind.
When the bartender and/or servers are busy, you start taking orders so they don't fall behind.
When the bar has a special event they hire you for the day to help serve drinks.
The bar actually offers you a job.
You know the name of every bar tender and server.
You know the names of all of the cooks.
You know the names of all the bar tender's, server's or cook’s siblings, spouses and/or children.
Those people buy you drink when you are at the bar.
The bar tenders and servers all give you a hug and/or handshake when they see you or you are leaving the bar.
The bar tender asks you to watch the bar while he/she takes a smoke/bathroom break.
You have been asked to help “86” an unruly customer.
You have been asked to help watch the door and check ID’s when the regular doorman does not show up.
The bar is closed due to a power outage but you are still welcomed in to help drink all the beer before it gets warm.
You have met up with the bar tender(s) for some activity outside of the bar.
You have gone camping with the bartender or other members of the staff.
The bar tender asks you to house sit for them while he/she is out of town.
You have the personal cell phone number of all the bartenders.
Servers start asking you for rides home after they get off from work.
You have your own shot named after you and only you and the bar tender know what is in it. Then other people start ordering it.
You help staff members work on their car or do house work just because you can.
Staff members help YOU work on your car or do house work just because they can.
If there is some extra of any drink recently mixed, they pour it into a glass for you.
If any drink is accidentally mixed, they put it in front of you so it will not be wasted.
If the bar tender asks you to tip in cash so your abnormally high tips will not show up on their server’s report and alert management.
If you are allowed to go through the back door, even if there is a big line out front.
If you are at the back of a five deep line at the bar and the bar tender asks you what you want before the umpteen people in front of you.
If are photos of the bar on the wall and you are in a couple of them.
If there is a painting of the bar on the wall and you are in it.
If the owner, who is rarely around, stops to say hi to you when he sees you.
If the owner stops to have a drink with you on the house whenever he sees you.
If the bar tender is planning a trip and asks you for advice about where they should go.
If the bar tender brings up topics you never realized you talked to him about and is truly interested in an update.
When the bartender is asked about a certain beer they yell the question over to you so you can answer it.
When management orders a new beer or spirit, they give you a sample and ask your opinion of it.
The manager asks your advice when ordering new beers, or spirits.
If the bar is undergoing renovations and the manager or owner asks you for advice on what do.
If you have met the owner’s children and they run up and hug you whenever they see you.
If you bring somebody new into the bar the bar tender does not ID them since they are with you.
You can start a tab without having to hand over a credit card or ID.
You can walk out on a tab once in a while without getting charged the "mandatory" service charges.
When the Manager locks himself out of his office, he enlists you to help him break into it.
If you bring your twin brother into the bar, every single employee does a double take and then tells your sibling what a great guy you are.
The bartender lets you plug your I-Pod into the stereo when you come in.
The bartender shows you how and then lets you skip songs on the Juke box when you don't like them.
People call the bar to see if you are there when they cannot find you otherwise.
If you are gone for a few days and folks at the bar do not know where you have been you get a concerned call to make sure you are all right.
Finally if you wank into a bar a full three years after having moved away and the bar tender, owner and servers still remember you and have your drink on the bar before you sit down.
This is a list I have compiled over the past 8 years and covers multiple bars in multiple States. Not all of these are my own experiences, though most are, and I do not condone all of these as accepted decorum at your local watering hole. Basically, do not try to do all of these things at your regular bar or you might, in the least get a talking to or at the worst get 86ed from your favorite place.
As it goes, if you are a true regular, you should know where you stand in a place and the limits that they place on your behavior. In my experience, sometimes a bar can be much more than a watering hole, it can be a family.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Living with Grandpa
So I started this blog at an interesting time in my life. As stated in my intro, i am 29 years old and am still working toward where I want to be, whatever that is. After one semester of a teacher education program a health crisis in my family changed things.
My Grandfather fell and hit his head, not once but twice. The second time he woke up and drove himself to the hospital, bruised and battered. The emergency room doctor evaluated him and sent him home. 24 hours later, after my Uncle heard what happened, he noticed not all was well. Cut to 12 hours later and my grandfater was having brain surgery.
Grabdpa had a subdural hematoma. Basically, bruising and bleading on his brain. They drilled a couple holes in his skull and evacuated the blood clots that were putting pressure on his brain.
We thought that was the end of it. But it wasn't. Within a couple weeks, my grandfather started exhibiting bazaar behavior. Once my aunt walked in to find him lying face down in the back yard, he was "Just getting some sun." Then he started turning the oven up to full blast to, "dry the towels," hanging on the front of it.
Being a concerned group of family members, we gave him a wrist band, LifeAlert style, where if he was in trouble, he could just hit a button and help would come. We found out how bad things really were when my other Uncle, doing a shift of supervision was woken up nine times in one night by the LifeAlert alarm. It turns out Grabdpa was not in distress, he just wanted to talk to somebody.
He went back for another CT scan and the blood clots on his brain, this time, were the size of golf balls. He was immediately back in surgery for another evacuation.
He spent two weeks in a managed care facility after that. Which he hated every minute of. But mentally he still was not all there. I even went to visit him once and due to grandpa giving me the wrong room number and what I hope was a temporary mix up by the staff, I did not even get to see him.
Cut to me. I, as afore mentioned, was off for the summer from my graduate program. 24/7 supervision was economically exorbitant, and being free at the time, I agreed to move from Los Angeles up to Palo Alto to watch over grandpa.
That was almost three months ago. Since then I have been a combination of a nurse, Prison guard(as harsh as that sounds) and a Taxi driver. I gave up what could have been a fun vacation from school to take care of my ailing grandfather. I managed his calender, took him to appointments with doctors and also regularly reported on his progress to the rest of the family.
One challenge I did not expect was managing his booze intake. Long before he fell, my grandfather had a regular drinking regiment. It included, conservatively, a gin on the rocks at 5PM, with a couple top offs, and a couple of margaritas to finish off the evening.
Alcohol, being a blood thinner was probably the reason for his relapse from his first surgery. Add the fact he either forgot, or outright did not take his medication and you have self neglective, or even self destructive behavior. Something I didn't come in prepared for.
When I first moved in, all went pretty well. We dismissed a daytime caregiver to give him more freedom at home after about a month. There was no LifeAlert button pushing and he seemed happy taking turns walking, sitting in the sun and resting on his bed.
As things got better, I gave him more liberties by letting him alone during most days. I ran errands, buying food for the house and taking a little time for myself in the meantime. I even got a little bit of a social life up here, though I was almost always home by 5PM.
Things were going great, he got a lot stronger. We abandoned his walker, he could take showers on his own, it was all good.
After the first month, his general practitioner said it was okay for him to have one drink a day. I was the bartender and I took it seriously. I metered out one gin on the rocks a day to him, and he never failed to remind me at 5:30PM that is was drink time.
I should have seen it coming. As it turns out, when a neighbor across the street left town for the two weeks. Grandpa seized the opportunity. If I wasn't home to give him his drink, and he could not find the booze, which he did a couple times, he just went across the street and filled his glass from their liquor cabinet, and even refilled it a couple times.
He has proved to be a resourceful old codger, even in his infirmity. Which, now that I am moving back to Los Angeles this week, leaves the family with a conundrum.
I would love nothing more than to let him be and live at home on his own. But he has exhibited signs of self neglect and self destruction that I cannot leave him alone. the next couple weeks will determine what we will do, and it will be a family decision.
I will have more on this topic shortly.
My Grandfather fell and hit his head, not once but twice. The second time he woke up and drove himself to the hospital, bruised and battered. The emergency room doctor evaluated him and sent him home. 24 hours later, after my Uncle heard what happened, he noticed not all was well. Cut to 12 hours later and my grandfater was having brain surgery.
Grabdpa had a subdural hematoma. Basically, bruising and bleading on his brain. They drilled a couple holes in his skull and evacuated the blood clots that were putting pressure on his brain.
We thought that was the end of it. But it wasn't. Within a couple weeks, my grandfather started exhibiting bazaar behavior. Once my aunt walked in to find him lying face down in the back yard, he was "Just getting some sun." Then he started turning the oven up to full blast to, "dry the towels," hanging on the front of it.
Being a concerned group of family members, we gave him a wrist band, LifeAlert style, where if he was in trouble, he could just hit a button and help would come. We found out how bad things really were when my other Uncle, doing a shift of supervision was woken up nine times in one night by the LifeAlert alarm. It turns out Grabdpa was not in distress, he just wanted to talk to somebody.
He went back for another CT scan and the blood clots on his brain, this time, were the size of golf balls. He was immediately back in surgery for another evacuation.
He spent two weeks in a managed care facility after that. Which he hated every minute of. But mentally he still was not all there. I even went to visit him once and due to grandpa giving me the wrong room number and what I hope was a temporary mix up by the staff, I did not even get to see him.
Cut to me. I, as afore mentioned, was off for the summer from my graduate program. 24/7 supervision was economically exorbitant, and being free at the time, I agreed to move from Los Angeles up to Palo Alto to watch over grandpa.
That was almost three months ago. Since then I have been a combination of a nurse, Prison guard(as harsh as that sounds) and a Taxi driver. I gave up what could have been a fun vacation from school to take care of my ailing grandfather. I managed his calender, took him to appointments with doctors and also regularly reported on his progress to the rest of the family.
One challenge I did not expect was managing his booze intake. Long before he fell, my grandfather had a regular drinking regiment. It included, conservatively, a gin on the rocks at 5PM, with a couple top offs, and a couple of margaritas to finish off the evening.
Alcohol, being a blood thinner was probably the reason for his relapse from his first surgery. Add the fact he either forgot, or outright did not take his medication and you have self neglective, or even self destructive behavior. Something I didn't come in prepared for.
When I first moved in, all went pretty well. We dismissed a daytime caregiver to give him more freedom at home after about a month. There was no LifeAlert button pushing and he seemed happy taking turns walking, sitting in the sun and resting on his bed.
As things got better, I gave him more liberties by letting him alone during most days. I ran errands, buying food for the house and taking a little time for myself in the meantime. I even got a little bit of a social life up here, though I was almost always home by 5PM.
Things were going great, he got a lot stronger. We abandoned his walker, he could take showers on his own, it was all good.
After the first month, his general practitioner said it was okay for him to have one drink a day. I was the bartender and I took it seriously. I metered out one gin on the rocks a day to him, and he never failed to remind me at 5:30PM that is was drink time.
I should have seen it coming. As it turns out, when a neighbor across the street left town for the two weeks. Grandpa seized the opportunity. If I wasn't home to give him his drink, and he could not find the booze, which he did a couple times, he just went across the street and filled his glass from their liquor cabinet, and even refilled it a couple times.
He has proved to be a resourceful old codger, even in his infirmity. Which, now that I am moving back to Los Angeles this week, leaves the family with a conundrum.
I would love nothing more than to let him be and live at home on his own. But he has exhibited signs of self neglect and self destruction that I cannot leave him alone. the next couple weeks will determine what we will do, and it will be a family decision.
I will have more on this topic shortly.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Camping
Just this past weekend I went camping with a group of friends. This is something we try to do every three or four months as a group. To put it all in perspective, all of us live in LA. As a whole, I feel that Los Angelenos are not really known as a camping crowd. For us, it is a welcome escape from the rigors of the city. We can get out to nature, somewhat, forget our jobs or schools and just enjoy the outdoors.
Man Los Angelenos would scoff at this. I know this because whenever I mention camping as a pastime in casual conversation many ask, "Why would you want to do that?" I have heard everything from, "Why would I leave my comfortable home," to, "I just don't like getting dirty!"
Well, here is why I like camping. The first thing is it is tougher than staying at home. Even if your idea of camping is taking out the mobile home and parking it in a spot, you are giving up a couple of life's luxuries. By the way, I really do not respect the folks that drive a 32' camper out, never leave it and call that camping. To me, camping is sleeping in a tent, cooking over a fire or at least a camp stove and having to walk some odd feet to the bathroom.
Parking a facsimile of your house in a spot is not camping. That is living in a trailer park. By the way, I lived in a trailer park for 3 years growing up so I am not knocking that in the least.
Camping involves getting out of your comfort level. Going somewhere you have never been before and living there for a short time the best you can. It hearkens back to the times when people went places where nobody had been before and you had to make due with what you had on hand.
I can proudly say I have cooked full meals over an open fire pit. I have hiked miles from civilization and to tell the truth, I have never been happier while doing so.
I have to admit, my recent camping experiences have been less than rustic. There has usually been a ready source of ice and firewood, two things that are hard to go without in modern society. But I love getting as rustic as I can get. Even if three are multiple lighters available, I still enjoy starting the fire with a flint and steel. Funny thing is, when I break out the flint, everyone wants a turn to try to start the fire, even if it takes an extra hour.
I guess camping calls on the pioneer in all of us, and sometimes the hard way is the right way. There is nothing like sitting around a camp fore with your friends, enjoying a couple beers, roasting marshmallows, or even steaks, and looking up to a sky unpolluted by light or smog.
Though camping is not always the most comfortable, it provides a connection to the caveman in all of us. We could be the only people out there at least in our minds. That brings a peace beyond the rat race. That is why I love camping.
Now that the Soapbox is set up I want to bring a little attention to the plight of California's State parks. I have camped in at least 5 of them and they provide great facilities to experience the natural wonders of our state. With the poor economy, many state parks may close, which in my mind is a travesty. Please support our state parks and you can do so on Facebook by joining the group, "Keep California State Parks Open." Just search for it on our Facebook account and sign the petition. It is worth it.
Man Los Angelenos would scoff at this. I know this because whenever I mention camping as a pastime in casual conversation many ask, "Why would you want to do that?" I have heard everything from, "Why would I leave my comfortable home," to, "I just don't like getting dirty!"
Well, here is why I like camping. The first thing is it is tougher than staying at home. Even if your idea of camping is taking out the mobile home and parking it in a spot, you are giving up a couple of life's luxuries. By the way, I really do not respect the folks that drive a 32' camper out, never leave it and call that camping. To me, camping is sleeping in a tent, cooking over a fire or at least a camp stove and having to walk some odd feet to the bathroom.
Parking a facsimile of your house in a spot is not camping. That is living in a trailer park. By the way, I lived in a trailer park for 3 years growing up so I am not knocking that in the least.
Camping involves getting out of your comfort level. Going somewhere you have never been before and living there for a short time the best you can. It hearkens back to the times when people went places where nobody had been before and you had to make due with what you had on hand.
I can proudly say I have cooked full meals over an open fire pit. I have hiked miles from civilization and to tell the truth, I have never been happier while doing so.
I have to admit, my recent camping experiences have been less than rustic. There has usually been a ready source of ice and firewood, two things that are hard to go without in modern society. But I love getting as rustic as I can get. Even if three are multiple lighters available, I still enjoy starting the fire with a flint and steel. Funny thing is, when I break out the flint, everyone wants a turn to try to start the fire, even if it takes an extra hour.
I guess camping calls on the pioneer in all of us, and sometimes the hard way is the right way. There is nothing like sitting around a camp fore with your friends, enjoying a couple beers, roasting marshmallows, or even steaks, and looking up to a sky unpolluted by light or smog.
Though camping is not always the most comfortable, it provides a connection to the caveman in all of us. We could be the only people out there at least in our minds. That brings a peace beyond the rat race. That is why I love camping.
Now that the Soapbox is set up I want to bring a little attention to the plight of California's State parks. I have camped in at least 5 of them and they provide great facilities to experience the natural wonders of our state. With the poor economy, many state parks may close, which in my mind is a travesty. Please support our state parks and you can do so on Facebook by joining the group, "Keep California State Parks Open." Just search for it on our Facebook account and sign the petition. It is worth it.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Baseball Continued...
Well, I went on a little bit of a tangent last time. Here is why I really love baseball. Aside from the history, which I went way too far into in my last post, it is the relaxing part of the game. Basketball, Football, even Soccer at times are all about the tense situations that ride on every play.
Baseball is a much more laid back sport, which is probably why it is not as popular as it once was. Aside from attending many MLB games in my life, I also have enjoyed watching baseball on any level. At Cal, I used to regularly go to their home games. When I told my friends I was going, they asked, "Why?" To tell the truth, it was a great excuse to get out of the house, enjoy a game and eat some sunflower seeds. When I lived in Missouri, I was a regular at the Mid-Missouri Mavericks games, so far as I know a now defunked Semi-Pro team. I was actually the guy the called in the final scores for the news station I worked for at the time. I have to admit, the Mid-Mo Mavs were bad baseball, they had little if any talent, and usually had a losing record. But, I liked going to games just for the experience. A couple beers and a dog an a nice balmy Missouri afternoon. All while being entertained by a game.
Now many nowdays say that baseball is and cannot be entertaining. Well, I fyou are not familiar with the game I can understand that. But, I myself was a catcher from the age of 7 all thae way through my High School years. In High School I played Soccer, Football, Basketball and Baseball all on the Varsity level. Aside from some bright spots in Football, Baseball was the one sport where I always knew I was good at it.
I have taken that knowledge and experience to my enjoyment of Major League Baseball. As a former catcher, I hang on every pitch and can usually tell what the last pitch was, I.E Curve, Cut or four seamer, and can predict what the mext pitch will be, for the most part.
Catcher is the only position, save the pitcher where you are involved in every play. I take that same attitude when I watch a game.
Now my concentration is on my San Francisco Giants. Since I cannot play on that level anymore, I live vicariously through the pros on the field. I went to my first Giants game at the blustery Candlestick Park in 1985 and have made it to at least on Pro game every season since. I am happiest at the ballpark, because you can forget life for a couple of hours and concentrate on something fun. That is why I love baseball.
Baseball is a much more laid back sport, which is probably why it is not as popular as it once was. Aside from attending many MLB games in my life, I also have enjoyed watching baseball on any level. At Cal, I used to regularly go to their home games. When I told my friends I was going, they asked, "Why?" To tell the truth, it was a great excuse to get out of the house, enjoy a game and eat some sunflower seeds. When I lived in Missouri, I was a regular at the Mid-Missouri Mavericks games, so far as I know a now defunked Semi-Pro team. I was actually the guy the called in the final scores for the news station I worked for at the time. I have to admit, the Mid-Mo Mavs were bad baseball, they had little if any talent, and usually had a losing record. But, I liked going to games just for the experience. A couple beers and a dog an a nice balmy Missouri afternoon. All while being entertained by a game.
Now many nowdays say that baseball is and cannot be entertaining. Well, I fyou are not familiar with the game I can understand that. But, I myself was a catcher from the age of 7 all thae way through my High School years. In High School I played Soccer, Football, Basketball and Baseball all on the Varsity level. Aside from some bright spots in Football, Baseball was the one sport where I always knew I was good at it.
I have taken that knowledge and experience to my enjoyment of Major League Baseball. As a former catcher, I hang on every pitch and can usually tell what the last pitch was, I.E Curve, Cut or four seamer, and can predict what the mext pitch will be, for the most part.
Catcher is the only position, save the pitcher where you are involved in every play. I take that same attitude when I watch a game.
Now my concentration is on my San Francisco Giants. Since I cannot play on that level anymore, I live vicariously through the pros on the field. I went to my first Giants game at the blustery Candlestick Park in 1985 and have made it to at least on Pro game every season since. I am happiest at the ballpark, because you can forget life for a couple of hours and concentrate on something fun. That is why I love baseball.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Baseball
Baseball is my favorite game. I grew up playing it from T-Ball when I was 5 years old to winning multiple league championships in High School. But, as many aspiring major leaguers relize, I knew I did not have the talent to advance beyond my High School Years.
However, that did not diminish my love of the sport. Now many would and will say that Baseball is a sport of a bygone era. It was most popular before television came to dominate the media. Baseball is a slow sport, and that is why I like it. In fact, it is the only sport I can enjoy sitting in my room for up to four hours sitting and listening to only a voice telling me what is happening.
Here is a little ( and by little I mean very abbreviated) history of Baseball. Many say it came from an evolution of the still popular British game of Cricket or a later evolution of a Northern British territorial game called "Rownders." In fact I once spent a game sitting next to Scottish national who told me kids still play "Rownders" on the playgroung in that far north part of the British Ilses.
The first official Baseball game, according to the oft reliable Wiki, was in 1846. The first "National League" was founded in 1876 and later, in 1903 an official National Association of Professional Base Ball Leagues was formed merging many rival semi or full pro Baseball franchises (again according to Wikipedia).
Since then we have seen the rise and fall of many of sports best dynastys, from the early dirty ball od Ty Cobb, to the New York Yankees stars over the years from babe Ruth to Lou Gerigh, the "luckiest man in the world" (who had a disease named after him) and of course Mickey Mantle.
The Negro leagues were segregated from the "Major Leagues." One player of note, and for the sake of brevity, and not out of disrespect I cannot mention many more players, Satchel Paige was probably one of the best pitchers in history. He however spent the majority of his career in the Negro leagues and didn't make his Major League debut unitl the age of 42, still an old age for players today, with the Cleavland Browns in 1948.
Of Course Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier in 1947, something that changed baseball forever, and also a person I wrote a paper in College. His contribution is not worthy of my words at this time.
I need to go to bed, I will check back in on this topic soon. To be continued...
-Ben
However, that did not diminish my love of the sport. Now many would and will say that Baseball is a sport of a bygone era. It was most popular before television came to dominate the media. Baseball is a slow sport, and that is why I like it. In fact, it is the only sport I can enjoy sitting in my room for up to four hours sitting and listening to only a voice telling me what is happening.
Here is a little ( and by little I mean very abbreviated) history of Baseball. Many say it came from an evolution of the still popular British game of Cricket or a later evolution of a Northern British territorial game called "Rownders." In fact I once spent a game sitting next to Scottish national who told me kids still play "Rownders" on the playgroung in that far north part of the British Ilses.
The first official Baseball game, according to the oft reliable Wiki, was in 1846. The first "National League" was founded in 1876 and later, in 1903 an official National Association of Professional Base Ball Leagues was formed merging many rival semi or full pro Baseball franchises (again according to Wikipedia).
Since then we have seen the rise and fall of many of sports best dynastys, from the early dirty ball od Ty Cobb, to the New York Yankees stars over the years from babe Ruth to Lou Gerigh, the "luckiest man in the world" (who had a disease named after him) and of course Mickey Mantle.
The Negro leagues were segregated from the "Major Leagues." One player of note, and for the sake of brevity, and not out of disrespect I cannot mention many more players, Satchel Paige was probably one of the best pitchers in history. He however spent the majority of his career in the Negro leagues and didn't make his Major League debut unitl the age of 42, still an old age for players today, with the Cleavland Browns in 1948.
Of Course Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier in 1947, something that changed baseball forever, and also a person I wrote a paper in College. His contribution is not worthy of my words at this time.
I need to go to bed, I will check back in on this topic soon. To be continued...
-Ben
Brand New Blog
This is my first blog page. I don't know if anybody will be interested in it but what I plan to cover are topics including the status of my life, cooking, restaurants, libations, travel and any other thing that think is interesting to write about.
As an introduction, I am 29 years old, I am back at school getting a teaching credential and really am at a loss for where my life is heading. Hopefully toward to good side of things.
I love to travel but don't have the money to do so. I really like going out to eat. I love doing outdoorsy things like camping and fishing. I also like just hanging out with friends, and I mean real friends, the backyard BBQ type of thing, not the, hey don't I know you from that bar sort.
Hopefully I will keep this thing up and you might be interested in what I have to say. Looking forward to it.
-Ben
As an introduction, I am 29 years old, I am back at school getting a teaching credential and really am at a loss for where my life is heading. Hopefully toward to good side of things.
I love to travel but don't have the money to do so. I really like going out to eat. I love doing outdoorsy things like camping and fishing. I also like just hanging out with friends, and I mean real friends, the backyard BBQ type of thing, not the, hey don't I know you from that bar sort.
Hopefully I will keep this thing up and you might be interested in what I have to say. Looking forward to it.
-Ben
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