"Points!"

How is everyone on this fine Hump Day? Dude, get your mind out of the gutter. I mean Wednesday. I know it’s hotter than hell over here and it seems like it only getting hotter. It’s the humidity that makes it so bad. Joel says that is bull honkery. We will find out next Rocktober at Joel and Alex's wedding in Arid-zona.

There hasn’t been much going on lately. We’ve been layin' low and trying to stay out of the heat as much as possible. We ran to Jackson last weekend to see Mom after her birthday. Good food. I played a few games of Buck Pitch with Dad, Granny, and Aunt Ruth. I am glad that I am not the one getting jumped on for making bad plays anymore. Ask me in confidence and I will tell you whose game is suffering.

On the way back from Jackson, we swung into the company picnic at Camp McKee in Levee, Kentucky. For those of you not sure where this is located, it is on Ky. 11 between Clay City and Mt. Sterling. It is a pretty neat place with a bunch of activities to do such as fishing, scavenger hunting, rappelling, hiking, zip lining, swimming, canoeing, shooting firearms, geo-caching, sweating, etc. Yeah, it was roasting outside. Beth had some relief from the heat. She was fortunate enough to man a dunking booth for a half an hour. Before you ask, no, I won’t let you ask. I can’t believe you would think that I would stoop low enough to dunk my own wife. I mean seriously. Okay…but I did it just once and the money was for a great charity. No harm, right?

I played in a cornhole tournament at the picnic with one of my friends, J-Way, a superb cornhole thrower. After two games when the scores combined were 42-3 in our favor, we found ourselves in the semifinal round playing against Sam, yeah, you know him, and another guy. I think we won that one 21-13 and we were in the finals playing against two guys I had never seen before in my life. They were good. They were real good. I think the final score was 21-7. In the words of my boy, J-Way, “They throttled us.” And you can tell by the score that statement was no exaggeration. Come to find out, they were two college punks, one of who’s mother works there (but I didn’t see her at the picnic entire day) who have nothing better to do than toss back cold ones and toss corny ones. Not fair. Plus, I had to switch sides and bags for the last game. I had to give myself some excuse, I guess.

The picnic wasn’t a total washout. Beth won a $250 gift card from Best Buy. Bonus. I didn’t win anything, but I got a free T-shirt out of it and so did everyone else.

We have picked up a couple of new hobbies/forms of exercising. I am sure most of you heard I had purchased a tennis racket. Well, Beth decided to buy one for her, as well. We hit a few balls on Monday night. Beth has more potential as a tennis player than what I have. Plus, she looks better playing tennis than I do, I am sure. The other new activity is Backyard Badminton Battle Royale. There aren’t any rules that I can tell other than you have to hit the shuttlecock across the natural drain that runs across the middle of the backyard. When you think you have scored, you shout “Points” or “Double Points” whenever you feel it necessary. Arguments usually ensue after the declaration of “Points” and if you plead your case correctly, you get “Points”. I’m not sure how many “Points” it takes to win, but Beth usually lets me know when the game is over. Good times. I dare you to challenge Beth to a game. She’s a tough competitor.

Barry Bonds did the damn thing last night. He got it out of the way. I am concerned that the sports media outlets won’t have anything to discuss now. I will give you my take again as I had in an earlier post in answers to questions directed towards me at work.

Q. Are you happy Bonds broke the record?

A. Yes. I like to see people overcome struggles, especially struggles that pits them against so many.

Q. Do you think A-Rod will break Bonds’ home run record?

A. I hope so. Records are made to be broken. I like to see history made. I would like to be able to describe the whole scene to my grandkids someday.

Q. So, you aren’t a Barry Bonds fan?

A. I wouldn’t say that at all. I am not his biggest fan. I am a Dale Murphy-kind-of-guy. (By the way, Dale Murphy ripped him the other day in the media. I always thought of Dale as being a mouth shut-kind-of-player, but maybe he has gotten a little crotchety in aging and watching the game change for the betterment of the batters.) But, I know Barry Bonds and Alex Rodriguez probably aren’t much different from each other, as far as people go. Both real A-Holes, I’m sure. Bonds has shown quite a bit of humility in the past few months as the chase became inevitable. I don’t know if that is a show to ease the backlash from the media and the dissenters. A-Rod has always been a real overpaid putz. But, both guys have revolutionized the game in their own way.

Q. Has baseball been jaded from this whole steroid journey?

A. Baseball has been jaded since the astronomical salaries of the players. But, for professional athletes, I think they are paid less for the actual time they are on the job and on the field of play. Bonds certainly hasn’t helped the situation, but I will argue against anyone the fact that Barry has never tested positive for steroids. “If it doesn’t fit you must acquit.” Don’t say it’s obvious he has used them. You weren’t saying anything when Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire were hammering homers in the summer of 2000. No one did. Bud Selig can only blame himself that the steroid witch hunt started about 10 years too late.

I know I will probably get some responses to my answers about the Home Run King, so bring it.

Stay cool. I gotta go.

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.

Barry Bondseotypes

I really am sick of everyone obsessing over Barry Bonds and his attempt to surpass The Babe on the career homerun list. Every sports talk show you see devotes at least 5 of 30 minutes of their programming to discuss every angle of the situation (i.e. Mike and Mike in the Morning, Pardon the Interruption, Four Quarters, etc.). The more they talk, the more hoopla is created--you know, the snowball effect. If everyone would just quit discussing the subject, the whole situation would come and go, just like Christmas.

“How does JDeezy feel about the situation?”

JDeezy does not condone the use of illegal, performance enhancing drugs. Not now. Not ever. This includes the Babe’s use of amphetamines to help him recover from his notorious all night benders and Hank Aaron’s use of greenies, also known as speed balls, to get him up for the game. For all three players, I will say this: Strength does not necessarily hit home runs. All the steroids and speed one can ingest will not help the individual see the baseball, nor does it help the individual put the bat on the ball.

While I participated in organized baseball and softball leagues, I remember even the smallest guys with excellent eyes and great bat-speed had the best batting averages. They were also proficient at swatting the long ball. Just take a look at Barry’s strikeouts relative to his at bats and home runs. You will see an extraordinary amount of base hits. It is very impressive. His ratio of career hits to career strikeouts is almost 2:1. During the span of his 20 year career, Barry has averaged a hit a game. There aren’t many players or former players who can say that about their time in Major League Baseball. Just think what his numbers would look like if teams would actually pitch to him...and pitching, that’s another thing. The pitching today is far superior to pitching earlier than 1960.

Once again, I don’t excuse the use of illegal drugs, but I do like to see records broken and history made.

Okay, we have had enough on that subject. I have one last rant to get off my chest. Why do stereotypes always seem to hold true?

Example: On my way to work, there are around three cars that I see every day that I know to either go ahead and pass them or just slow down and let them go. Today, another vehicle was added to the list. All of these vehicles have something in common—the drivers are Asian descendants.

Example: In college, going to fraternity parties, I saw a whole bunch of dancing. With Morehead having around an 85% Caucasian population, I saw a bunch of shoddy dancing--myself included.

Example: Every old, rusted-out Chevrolet Astrovan or Ford Econoline I pass in Lexington is full of Hispanics.

Why is the majority of the crime in Lexington committed east of Winchester Road and inside of New Circle Road? Why must it always fall into place?

This weekend, you guys have a good time. I am going to try not to worry about who is driving feebly and/or with how many in tow, who is dancing poorly, or what red-heads are getting their fill of the ale. Here’s to Barry Bonds and hopefully his record-advancing weekend! Go see your mother!!!