baseball - C.E. Lemieux Jr

March 2, 2019March 2, 2019

Oh, Spring

02/26/2015

So, how’s the year treating you? I know in my neck of the woods we’re looking forward to spring. The winter hasn’t been all that harsh; certainly not as harsh as it has been in the northeast portion of the country, but it starts to wear on a person after a while. Of course, we’d take those truckloads of moisture they’ve been hauling off up in the northeast any day.

The world has been frozen in grays and browns for months, and we are looking forward to the signs of green popping up through the ground. Unfortunately, our area is prone to the tease of spring. We get these little indications that the season is changing, the trees start budding out, and then spring runs a little further down the road leaving the buds covered in frost.

For me, the coming of spring means baseball season is right around the corner. Hopefully, my Rangers will have a better season. Last year was a true disappointment after the accomplishments of the two previous seasons. It also means it is almost time to get the fishing gear ready. That too was a disappointment last year. We spent way too few days around a lake.

Winter hasn’t been totally unproductive though. I published The Ladder Climber in October and I’ve worked on several other novels over the months. I think another novel is on the horizon and life has added a few more experiences to deepen my knowledge and creativity. My middle son got married and our family grew a little larger. The Bulldog teams had strong basketball seasons.

The seasons change, just as life changes. We struggle through the winters and relish days in the sun. Toward the end of summer when the heat becomes unbearable, we’ll long for the cooler days. I suppose if I had a choice, I’d spend most of my days in either spring or fall. Those are the seasons which are my favorites. I like the mild weather, the rebirth of spring and the nostalgia of fall.

Until then, we face at least a few more weeks of winter. It appears more snow is on the way, and the cooler days will continue to try our patience. Even though spring is on the calendar, it doesn’t always show up when it is scheduled. All I can say is at least opening day usually makes it on time. While we wait, let’s think about green blades of grass beneath our feet, laughter and giggles echoing around the neighborhood, the fragrance of flowers blooming, and the popping sound of the ball meeting the pocket of leather glove. Spring is just around the corner, folks.

March 2, 2019March 2, 2019

Negative Nelly

09/16/2013

Recently, I’ve been giving my son a hard time about his pessimism. It’s really easy to see why he’s had a hard time with it. Just a few short weeks into baseball season, and as he was really getting excited about playing the game again, he suffered a broken leg on a slide into third base. He had made new friends on the team and was enjoying not just the game, but also the camaraderie of the relationships he was developing. All that appeared to be coming to an end with the broken leg.

As he went through the healing process, little changes and feelings he hadn’t experienced before seemed to make him think things were going worse instead of getting better. The darkness in the foot and the continued swelling caused him to question if it was healing, even though the doctor said it was going well. After one particular visit to the doctor, when he’d been worried the leg wasn’t healing correctly, I texted him, calling him Negative Nelly repeatedly to rouse him from his pessimism.

He did make it to some of the baseball games in an effort to let the team know he was still supporting them and those moments seemed to lift his spirits. Then the prognosis of extended time before he would be able to get back to normal pulled him back down. Stuck in his room keeping the leg up, he kind of became a recluse and didn’t interact with the family much

This year we didn’t have enough players for a football team, an incredibly depressing thought for a team which had played for the state championship the previous year. We cooperated with a neighboring town, and he had hopes of playing with them. Even though he knew he wouldn’t start the season, he participated in practices and team get-togethers, again to show support for the team, and I think to make himself feel better about things.

On his last visit to the doctor, he was under the impression he would be able to play in just a few weeks. But after meeting with the physical therapist, his hopes were dashed again as he found out how long the actual recovery would take.

All of these things seemed to pile up, and he had taken on a bit of a negative attitude about things. He seemed to focus on the bad news rather than the good. Again, an easy pit to fall into when you are young and things don’t seem to be going your way.

But he’s not alone. It’s often easy to let life’s little obstacles rob us of our positive outlook. As adults, sometimes we fall into the spin cycle of negativity and can’t seem to get out. Financial hardships, health issues, the daily grind… they all seem to suck the life and energy out of us.

However, there are those among us who somehow are able to skip over the negativity and always focus on the positive. They are amazing people, and I often wonder if they really never get down or they just find a way to pull out of it before anyone notices. Either way, it is an admirable trait, to be able to face the world looking through those rose colored glasses and stay perpetually on the upside of things. However, many of us have to work a little harder to stay on the up and up.

One way to keep things in focus is to remember that as bad as things seem, “this too shall pass.” Even though my son’s leg was broken, it will heal, and in the long run he will be better for the experience. He will learn from it and he will see that he can push through it.

Another way to overcome those moments of negativity is to count your blessings. A little over a year ago, my son… along with the rest of his family…had lost his home. We faced something we had never expected. It is a suddenly overwhelming experience to be without all with which you are familiar. But with a great amount of support, we weathered it and we were brought to a place where we could see what was really important in our lives. Even with the loss, we had some wonderful things for which we could be thankful.

Perhaps, our negativity is the result of a bad decision or a mistake. If so, we need to recognize we all make mistakes and avoid continued punishment. We must make the decision to learn from the mistake and move on. We can’t allow it to continue to eat away at our confidence or energy levels. The more time we devote to dwelling on it, the more time is lost for moving to a more positive frame of mind.

When faced with the negative, we can stop our thought patterns and redirect our focus. Forcing ourselves to think about other things, occupying our minds with other thoughts can help us to overcome that pulling of our souls into the darkness. Surrounding ourselves with positive thinkers can help as well. Whatever it takes, we can pull it off. We can avoid being a Negative Nelly or a Pessimistic Paul by looking for what’s right or good with our lives. We can look forward to the time when we heal and become stronger than we were because of the experience.

March 2, 2019March 2, 2019

It’s Spring

2012

Spring is rolling in upon the Panhandle. A few weeks ago we took a trip to visit my son at college. The ribbon of highway lifted and fell with the rolling hills. It was early morning and along the way I watched as the world was awakened to the morning sunlight. Fog held in the low spots; that wonderful kind of fog which just lifts above the ground and makes me feel like I’m driving just under the clouds.

Along the road the cattle moved and grazed, vapor rising into the air as they exhaled into the early morning chill. Water dripped and drooled from their mouths as they paused in their drinking from the water in standing ponds, creeks, and water tanks to offer a curious glance as we passed. A bull lifted his snout in the air to echo out his deep call into the quiet of the morning and, though I couldn’t hear him from inside the car, the image of his actions offered the sound within the confines of my mind.

In the fields of brown, life had started to eek its way to the surface, dotting the earth with a shade of bright, fresh green. The spindly bare limbs of trees were growing bumps as the buds of new leaves grew toward their unfolding. Green squares of winter wheat fields contrasted against the gray squares of old stubble, the dark squares of plowed soil, and the brown squares of dormant grass like the spaces on a checkerboard. Across the prairie, heavy dew glistened and sparkled like a sprinkling of diamonds reflecting the light of the sunrise. I couldn’t help but be taken in by the details of this chilly Oklahoma morning.

A few days ago, I sat waiting to pick up the kids from school. With the windows down and the light breeze blowing in, I absorbed the beautiful warmth of the sunlight and a flawless baby blue sky. The paper thin seeds of the elms floated down upon Main Street like confetti. It was the kind of day which made me wish youthful thoughts for a convertible and the blast of a good stereo, the wind whispering through the barren land where my hair once grew. Spring fever was growing and I longed for a fishing rod and some soft green grass.

Last week I went to the track meet. Aside from the races and field events, kids of varied ethnicities and cultural backgrounds ran, laughed, and played in the center of the field. Their easy interactions were warming in the current climate of political and cultural confusion. The odor of sunscreen filled the air and the absence of its use was reflected in the sunburned noses, cheeks, legs, and arms. Upon sleeping bags and blankets, young athletes read books, snacked, teased, and wrestled with each other while they waited between events. The thin wires of headphones draped down from their ears as they took in the wonder of spring and blended it with their own choices of music; faces filled with mixed sentiments of contentment, ease, confidence, apprehension, hope, and happiness.

Today, the day after Easter, the morning started with overcast skies which slowly rolled away to reveal pale blue once again. The yards are green with grass and weeds. Henbit, a weed of course, has taken over the town and small purple flowers spread like carpet unrolled upon the yards and open lots. Annoying as it may be, it is pretty in its own way.

The trees are nearly fully leaved now. The gray-brown branches which were dormant all winter are filled with green. Track meets, softball, and golf games carry the echoes of voices and laughter as people move from their inner sanctuaries to absorb the wondrous feeling of once again being outside. Sounds of mowers and weed trimmers hum or whine in the background. Sweet scents of flowers blooming and grass being cut have begun to fill the world and create their own feelings of busyness. The smells of charcoal and barbecue have replaced the winter odor of pinion burning in fireplaces.

Red dirt, chalk, and grass will once again stain pants and jerseys. The smell of worn leather, popcorn, and hot dogs will lift in stadiums across the country. The pop of ball into glove, the crack of ball against bat, and the growl of the umpire’s voice will pierce the air. Cheers and boos will roar from the crowds. The taunting wink from batter to pitcher, the hand signals of the catcher, the touch of hand to cap, the windup, the release, and amazing dives in the outfield will all become familiar sights. The loudspeakers will echo and the organ will play. “God Bless America” will be sung in rough harmony during the stretch. Replays of “Field of Dreams” will make way for live games. The world has awakened from its winter!

It’s Spring folks! You know what that means? Baseball is back!

March 2, 2019March 2, 2019

A Season For Hope

2012

Well, it’s over. The scoreboard is dark. The public address system is silent. The seats are empty. The bases have been brought in. The bats and balls have been put away. The grass will weather the winter and the chalk lines will fade into the dirt. Sadly, the disappointment is still sinking in. For weeks, I was pumped, but in just one fall night my hopes were crushed…at least until next season. Okay, if you know me, you’ve probably realized I’m talking about the brutal loss My Rangers took at the hands of the St. Louis Cardinals. I use the word brutal, because it hurt, not because it was one of those one-sided, lame, boring World Series battles.

A little history: When I was a kid, I hated baseball or at least, I told myself I did. I played part of a season. It was in Virginia; the summer league at the fields near Indian River High School. I believe I was in the third or fourth grade. I had no concept of the game and everyone I was playing with had been playing for at least a couple of years. I was scared to death to take the field. I was afraid I’d make a mistake or not know what to do.

My younger brother, he was great at it. He started young and each year his team got better and better. He could pitch. He could catch. He could play a mean second base. My dad was one of the coaches and he had a natural talent for it. If he hadn’t decided to make a career out of the Navy, coaching would have been his calling.

It wasn’t like it is today where they used tees or pitching machines to learn the game. Those kids were pitching from the beginning and some of them were just fantastic. They took the game serious. They listened during the practices and followed all of dad’s drills. I actually enjoyed hanging out at his practices more than I enjoyed playing with my own team, so I just stopped playing.

Fast Forward: I’m in college. I went to several Rangers games in the old stadium just because the bank I worked for took all of its employees. The park was practically empty. I remember one game was against the White Sox and it went nine innings with a score of one to nothing. The Rangers lost. It just reinforced the idea that baseball was boring.

Surprisingly, I became a trainer for the college team. I enjoyed the game at that level, but it was mostly because of the attitude of the guys on the team. It was a small, private college; they played as much for the fun of the game as anything. After college, baseball went back to being a non-interest.

Fast Forward Again: I’m a dad. I’ve got a couple of kids playing ball. I decide, what better way for my kids to learn about baseball than to watch the pros. We started watching Rangers games together. No, the team wasn’t all that great and they weren’t going to make the playoffs, but they reminded me of the guys in college who actually seemed to play because they liked it. We quickly picked out our favorite players.

We watched and learned the game together. We talked about what was happening in the game. We discovered the techniques and the plays. We learned the meaning of terms like – double play, fielder’s choice, an RBI, a single, a double, a triple, and of course the most sought after – Grand Slam. We played catch. We collected cards. We got into baseball.

It became something we did together. Soon, Rangers games were family time. It was something special. We marveled at the spectacular plays and the home runs. The Rangers were in the new park and it was beautiful. When we were on vacation, we attended a Rangers game. We were in the nosebleed section, but it was awesome.

We went to a Redhawks game in the Bricktown Ballpark in Oklahoma City. They were a minor league team for the Rangers at that time. We were just a few rows back from the dugout. The dirt was so red. The grass was so green. The crack of the bat was so close and we could actually hear the ball pop in the mitts. The game was alive. The experience was so real. The crowd was so into it. I became baseball crazy. I had to catch every baseball game I could. Even baseball movies became of interest. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen Field of Dreams. I recently started a novel in which baseball plays a significant role.

Of course kids grow, and in a small town which only has a youth league, they eventually grew too old for playing baseball. One went to college. One is in high school where we don’t have a team. Another would probably play if there was a team for his age group. My daughter does play softball. Yet, even though the boys don’t play the game anymore, baseball is still one thing we can get together on once in a while.

Last year, the Rangers made it to the Series. I’d been following them for years. I knew their names and positions. There is Michael Young, the calm, cool versatile captain of the team. On second is Kinsler, who once played for the Liberal Bee Jays just 30 miles from home (I wish I’d been a follower then). Josh Hamilton is an inspiration and a slugger. There is Derick Holland, @Dutch_Oven45 on Twitter, the young pitcher. Of course, that year everyone was talking about Cliff Lee, who the Yankees took almost as quickly as the series was over. I’d seen the bullpen when it was at its worst and I’d watched as it improved. Certainly, there were others I wish we hadn’t traded and this year we have Napoli, who I can hope never leaves. I had watched their careers and the trades. They had become a part of my life, our lives. So, we were all excited when they made the playoffs and into the World Series, but then the Giants dashed our hopes.

This year, they were back. They were good. It was going to be their year. We watched the divisional and conference games. All of the playoff games were exciting; the anticipation was building with each game. Then, finally we were back in the big one – The World Series. The Series proved to be just as exciting and I was stressing through each game, but in the end the Cards took home the trophy. The final game was disappointing, a heartbreaking loss. And the worst part: baseball was over for the year.

It is amazing to see where life leads you. The kid, who thought he hated baseball, found out he loves baseball. The kid, who was scared to play, wishes he could play it now. And a game, that was just meant to show my own kids how the game is played, has become a part of our lives and something which can still bring us together.

One of the greatest things about baseball: it starts all over again in the spring. No matter how the last season ended, the slate is wiped clean and you are once again instilled with the hope that the next season will be your year. The grass greens up once again. The red dirt is groomed and chalked. The bats crack and the mitts pop; the crowds cheer, and God Bless America is proudly sung in the seventh inning stretch. And all over the country, fans kindle the hope that this year will be their year.

I can be proud of My Rangers for playing the game in a way which displayed class and respect for the tradition, enough that even Cards fans mentioned it on the Rangers Facebook page. I can be proud they made it to the Series two years in a row, making club history. I can be proud they made this last Series one of the most exciting in the history of the game, bringing in people who hadn’t watched a game in years. And I am sincerely proud of all of those things, but I will be most proud of the fact that they will be back in the spring to do it all again, and they will find a way to fill me with the hope that next year will be our year.