Jess Tried To Call, But All He Got Was A Busy Signal

"I've seen your face a hundred times,
Everyday we've been apart
I don't care about the sunshine, yeah.
'Cause Mama, Mama, I'm coming home.
I'm coming home."
-O. Osbourne

And home I did go this past weekend. I started the visit off with a round of golf with Dad at Sugar Camp Golf Club. This course is a pleasant little surprise off the shoulder of Route 30 East in Noctor. I really enjoyed the course and look forward to the next time I get to play there. I didn’t play exceptionally well, but I managed to hit a few “golf shots”.

I saw a couple of friends from high school that I hadn’t seen in a while. They were the same as they were the last time I saw them. Dad and I were on the sixth green and I heard someone booming across the course, “Heeeyyyyy, Randaallllllll! Woooooooooo!” It was none other than Doug Moore. Classic. And yes, he was lit up like Christmas. Good times.

After the golf, Mom had dinner made and it was nothing less than off the chain. The menu consisted of fried chicken, potato salad, green beans, corn bread, and fried apples. Are you hungry now? After dinner, the cornhole boards were brought out and I proceeded to hand out the arse-whippings on Lost Creek. I don’t think I ever lost a game, but I think I lost a pint of blood to the mosquitoes.

From there, the shindig went to Jess’s garage. Jess, Neal, Mark and myself found us some sit-downs amid the car parts. The conversations are a blur, but I am sure they were full of insight and deep meaning. Mark punked out on us and ditched us for some chicks. Honestly, I can’t say that I would blame him. A single man hanging out with a bunch of hairy legs or single man hanging out with chicks? I guess there really wasn’t a decision to make.

On Saturday, my cousin Ryan and his fiancée, Amanda, were married at Riverside. It was a nice ceremony. Congratulations, you guys. Mom and Laura were crying all over us, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle and David Peden stayed solid, because that's his style. I saw a few family members and friends I hadn’t seen in a while. It was great to catch up with them. Being at Riverside brought back some great memories of my youth spent there on the campus at the “Light in the Hills” during the Fourth of July. Softball and foot races, you can’t beat them, unless, of course, you have a sno-cone.

Last weekend I got into Churchill Downs’ pocket. Beth, my buddy Sam, and I went to the track in the ‘Ville for the Stephen Foster Grade I Handicap. There were several good races on the card and I felt this was a day that I couldn’t have passed up. I cashed a couple of trifecta tickets and when all was said and done, I was up around $40. Not too shabby!

Beth is in Columbus on business this week until Wednesday. So, I guess, the cats and I will hold down Island Pond until her return. Maybe, I should hold down her car for her until she gets back. I’m sure she won’t mind. *Wink Wink*

“Hasta manana, amigos!”

I Apologize In Advance...

DJ JDeezy here, coming to you live from another dimension. So, make sure you are tuned in and don’t touch the dial, because I will be giving you the word directly. It may not be the truth, but it is just another episode from the Island Pond Zone. Sit back and enjoy the ride.

Last Tuesday, I was made privy to the unveiling of the Roger Clemens, Version 2K.06 Yeah, I had tickets to what will go down in history as one of the most significant baseball events in Lexington, Kentucky. The future hall-of-famer, Roger “The Rocket” Clemens, made his comeback debut at Applebee’s Park on North Broadway and it was quite the spectacle. At the closest point, I was a mere 20 feet away from the brush-back legend (not to be confused with a Lexington Legend) himself. As I watched him “hot toss” with a one-night-only teammate, I realized what kind of cannon one must possess in order to be a hurler in the majors. Roger was standing on the right field foul line while his partner was standing in deep, center field. My line of sight was right over the top if Roger’s right arm. As he threw the ball to his catch-mate, the ball, maybe, dropped 18 inches. No wind-up, no crow-hop, just a quarter turn and a flip of the wrist was all it took for Rocket to achieve that velocity.

The game itself was okay. I had “standing room only” tickets, but it was still sort of hard to see. I think all the spectators 6 feet and over got there before our crew did. At least the stewards let those people with chairs in front of those standing. Needless to say, Beth and Dawn could see the game all right. Brandon and I had to tip toe to see over people’s heads. When we were tired of that, we walked around the park to get different vantage points of The Rocket’s delivery. He was definitely humming. I think one of his hottest pitches was clocked at 93 m.p.h. Heat or not, he still got rang up in the first by Johnny Drennen of the Lake County Captains. There was a mixed reaction by the crowd over the home run. It was 50/50 with some cheering and some booing. So, were there as many people at the game to see Roger Clemens fall on his face, as there were those there to cheer him on? So it seems. I heard several people making ill comments toward him. To each his own, I guess.

The whole ordeal had somewhat of a deeper meaning for me. Roger “The Rocket” Clemens, future hall-of-famer, 7-time Cy Young Award winner, 11-time All-Star, is beginning what will probably be his last season pitching. Why does this have such deep seeded meaning to me?

When I first started watching and playing baseball around 1984(BYF T-Ball), I would hear this name, Roger Clemens, mentioned by the older kids, coaches, and by Skip Carey and Don Nelson on TBS as they covered the Atlanta Braves on television. I never got to see The Rocket pitch then because he played for Boston and there was no inter-league play back then and we all know TBS was the only television station we had that carried baseball. But, everyone affiliated with baseball KNEW who THE ROCKET was.

Twenty-two years later, the possible closing of an era is eminent and looms ever so largely on Major League Baseball. Being an adult (by legal definition-no jokes needed) and having really reviewed the marathon career of Clemens, I, now, really feel the closure of my youth. It really makes me happy and sad to think of it all. Tidal waves of memories from my youth slam me one after the other. There are memories of my family spending summers at the ball fields. All the sacrifices my parents made to make sure we were there for every game and practice tears at my heart and places a huge lump in the back of my throat. The lifelong friends and acquaintances I have met along the way come to mind. The pizza and pool parties at the end of each season were always a blast. The life lessons I learned playing on the dusty fields on the bank of Panbowl Lake behind LBJ Elementary School will never be forgotten.

Hopefully, in the future, I will get to do the same for a child of my own. Just the way my father taught me to keep my caboose down while fielding the ball, I will explain to mine. “Keep your bat back and your elbow up!” “Always keep your eye on the ball” “If it hits you, it’ll only hurt for a minute.” Those are some of my favorites.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for helping me just realize how much more thankful I should be for you. I love you.

Vile Knave, Render Your Attention and Read Thy Blog

With just a workweek away from the Belmont Stakes, I am starting to get a better picture in my head of the way the 2006 Belmont Stakes at Big Sandy will turn out. There are several up and coming horses worth a look along with some familiar names.

Steppenwolfer, for the distance, looks extremely good. If you remember, he was the strong second place running colt to Lawyer Ron in the Arkansas Derby. He will love the long stretch at Belmont Park. I can’t kick the fireball finisher Jazil out of the exotic plays. This colt really displayed its desire in the Kentucky Derby to rally for a dead heat fourth-place finish with Brother Derek (the Best of the West). Jazil, son of Seeking the Gold, has been working out at Belmont trying to get a good feel of the surface. I think he will also like the long stretch as he narrowly missed Bob and John running late in the Wood Memorial.

Sunriver, a Saint Ballado colt, will try to put forth another Grade I performance Saturday. Coming off of a win in his Belmont-prep race, the Grade 3 Peter Pan Stakes, the full brother to a champion filly Ashado, Sunriver will be readied by Todd Pletcher. We cannot forget his stablemate, Bluegrass Cat. After a surprising second place finish in the Kentucky Derby, Bluegrass Cat has been cooling his heels and getting his works done in Elmont, NY at the Big Sandy. On Bluegrass Cat’s Monday morning work, Pletcher said "He was well in hand and got enough out of it without overdoing it."

My long-shot pick for the Belmont Stakes is High Finance. The Rick Violette, Jr. trained son of Talk is Money, broke his maiden in April at Keeneland in a nine-length romp. In his next start, an entry-level allowance race at Aqueduct, High Finance pulled a five-length strike on the field. In this race he broke through the starting gate a la Barbaro before the Preakness Stakes and still won a race labeled as “in control from the start”. He breezed a mile yesterday in 1:38.49 and went the last eighth in 11 seconds and change. Not too shabby for a lightly raced colt.

Now you have my picks. Don’t bet them as the gospel—even if I do!

Now we are on to better things. Chase and Alisha stopped by the house Saturday for a brief visit before heading to a wedding. We were able to enjoy a nice lunch and some great fellowship. I hope they had a good time. Later on that evening, I went to the 10th Annual Karaoke in the Country at Riversong Ranch. A good time was in the making, but I had to get going to keep the standing Saturday night dinner date at Harry’s with my wife. It was hard to leave an ice, cold keg of Old Style, though.

On Sunday, I woke with fervor and high spirits. I wanted to go and do something, but I just didn’t know what. After a discussion with Beth, we decided on a trip to Louisville to eat at P.F. Changs and later, check out Paige and David’s soon-to-be new residence. After a busted trip to the farmer’s market on the way out of town, we hit the interstate. On the way, I called Paige to see if they would be available. She answered in the affirmative, but needed at least an hour’s notice. Okay what would we do?

Highlands Renaissance Festival!

This was the first annual festival for the Highlands RenFest (for short) in Eminence, KY. A great deal of work has been done to get this thing going. I was impressed, but not impressed like I am willing to go again. I must say that it is a spectacle to behold at least once. I don’t know if you have ever been to one of these festivals. I wasn’t so sure about them and I am still not sure. Everyone (except people like me in street clothes) is in character from the days of Rob Roy and William Wallace to the times of Geoffrey Chaucer and William Shakespeare. There are noblemen, knights, soldiers, faeries, blacksmiths, villagers, drunkards, knaves, and wenches. Yes, everyone speaks in Ye Olde English dialect. It is quite intimidating. Some guy has been talking to you for a minute in what sounds like gibberish and you are like, “Whaaaaa?!?” If you go, make sure to read some Shakespeare or Chaucer before you go so you will be brushed up on the tongue.

Also, if you go, make sure you bring a lot of cash ($100+). Everyone there is selling something, definitely stuff you don’t need, unless, of course, if you live your life in a fairy tale. And nothing is cheap. A must-do if you find yourselves there, as we did, make sure you watch the jousting. It is the real deal. Two armored knights galloping at each other on Belgian draft horses with lances. After that, they throw down on foot with swords and shields. Also, see the mud pit dramas--people in mud trying to be funny. Priceless.

Chang is good.

Uhhh....no, it's not.

P.F. Changs wasn’t all Beth had made it out to be. She even admitted this one wasn’t as good as the P.F. Changs’ she had eaten at in Raleigh-Durham, N.C. or in Columbus, OH. It wasn’t bad, but it just wasn’t great. You win some and you lose some.

Give me a shout. Out.