God, in this cold, I need relief. These elements I am connnected to, I can not break from their pull, from their influence. These forces come together, they combust, and their reaction is felt far and wide. They surround me always, most often staying to themselves. When they meet, it is chaos. It is my worst fear. It is heartbreak. It is helplessness. And sadly, it is inevitable.
Now I know these are the times I cry out for you. I need your spirit. I need to feel your presence more than I have never needed to feel anything in my life. Tonight, I am surrounded by so much, yet I feel so alone.
I don't know if I will be able to sleep at all tonight. I need courage and I need direction and I change. Most of all, tonight I pray for peace. Please.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Enough of Friday
The odyssey of today really started Thursday morning. I left my gym bag at home and I intended to work out that afternoon. As a result, if I didn't work out Friday morning before work, I would not get any exercise in until Monday, at the earliest. So my alarm got me out of bed at 4:30 a.m. this morning. I read on the net about the Mets' latest loss, listened to a little Boomer and Carton, and took off for the gym around 5:30 a.m. Got there at 6:05, worked out until 7:15. Showered and drove the 5 minutes to work. Left at 4:40 p.m.
Usually, I would take the highway from Hoffman Estates down to Glen Ellyn for my Friday night group, about a 35 minute drive. And this is actually the last meeting we're having until next September. But there was an extra wrinkle. Last Saturday, I brought a grill and I wound up having to exchange it. The cool thing was the Lowe's I went to this time has the same grill for $30 cheaper. So I saved a few bucks and they're going to do the assembly as well. But this Lowe's was on Barrington Rd, which meant a lot of stop and go traffic, mostly stopping. This time, it took me an hour and 15 minutes to get to Glen Ellyn at 6 p.m.
To celebrate our final group session of the year, we had pizza. Theanks Chad for not calling in, thus making all those donations to the cause. I probably had 13 pieces tonight. Then again, this is that lame Chicago thin crust style. And a few regulars were missing tonight, so let's just say I took their burden upon my shoulders. Left at 7:30, and by now, the rain was pouring down. But I couldn't go home, I had to drive even farther south to Lisle for some Herald work. Got there just in time for the start of the third period. Rangers lead 3-2. Found out they had led 3-0 though, so I was feeling a little queasy. Penguins score two goals 30 seconds apart. I knew it was over. But of course, the Rangers tease me. They tie it with 10 minutes left. Three minutes left, the referees take their first step toward screwing the Rangers so the "anointed one" can reach the next round. Penalty on Straka, Pittsburgh scores on the power play, we lose Game 1. Absolutely terrible.
And to top off that, five minutes later, Kelly Johnson homers off Mike Pelfrey, snapping a 3-3 tie. Braves go on to beat the Mets 6-3. The Mets gout outhit in this damn game 13-2. Two hits! All their runs came off walks with the bases loaded. Ryan Church is the only Met hitting worth a damn. Wright hasn't hit anything since Saturday. Beltran has been terrible with runners on base. Reyes has not had a hit since the Great Flood. I think Noah was gathering animals for the ark the last time Jose Reyes got a hit. I've ripped Delgado enough already, at least he was benched in this game. Even our bench core, Easley, Anderson, and Chavez have been terrible. And Raul Casanova. Our catcher while Brian Schneider is recovering from an infected left hand. I have a request. This may be asking a lot. When you hit a ball to the wall, instead of skipping to your Lou, can you freakin' run hard? Who the hell are you to not bust your ass on the baseball diamond? Get lost, goodbye. I am sick of the lackadaisical and crybaby attitudes that still permeates this clubhouse.
By the way, there have been four grand slam home runs hit in baseball this year. Mets relief pitchers have given up three of them.
And then I had a 45 minute drive home through an absolute storm and got held up by a freight train in West Chicago for 5 minutes. Got in at 10:00 p.m. So that's 17 hours straight out of the house. I am now in the heated dungeon unloading on Claim Jumper's caramel apple cream cheese pie (TDF!) and a lot of milk. And I wonder where someone is tonight... They have a lot to answer for.
Usually, I would take the highway from Hoffman Estates down to Glen Ellyn for my Friday night group, about a 35 minute drive. And this is actually the last meeting we're having until next September. But there was an extra wrinkle. Last Saturday, I brought a grill and I wound up having to exchange it. The cool thing was the Lowe's I went to this time has the same grill for $30 cheaper. So I saved a few bucks and they're going to do the assembly as well. But this Lowe's was on Barrington Rd, which meant a lot of stop and go traffic, mostly stopping. This time, it took me an hour and 15 minutes to get to Glen Ellyn at 6 p.m.
To celebrate our final group session of the year, we had pizza. Theanks Chad for not calling in, thus making all those donations to the cause. I probably had 13 pieces tonight. Then again, this is that lame Chicago thin crust style. And a few regulars were missing tonight, so let's just say I took their burden upon my shoulders. Left at 7:30, and by now, the rain was pouring down. But I couldn't go home, I had to drive even farther south to Lisle for some Herald work. Got there just in time for the start of the third period. Rangers lead 3-2. Found out they had led 3-0 though, so I was feeling a little queasy. Penguins score two goals 30 seconds apart. I knew it was over. But of course, the Rangers tease me. They tie it with 10 minutes left. Three minutes left, the referees take their first step toward screwing the Rangers so the "anointed one" can reach the next round. Penalty on Straka, Pittsburgh scores on the power play, we lose Game 1. Absolutely terrible.
And to top off that, five minutes later, Kelly Johnson homers off Mike Pelfrey, snapping a 3-3 tie. Braves go on to beat the Mets 6-3. The Mets gout outhit in this damn game 13-2. Two hits! All their runs came off walks with the bases loaded. Ryan Church is the only Met hitting worth a damn. Wright hasn't hit anything since Saturday. Beltran has been terrible with runners on base. Reyes has not had a hit since the Great Flood. I think Noah was gathering animals for the ark the last time Jose Reyes got a hit. I've ripped Delgado enough already, at least he was benched in this game. Even our bench core, Easley, Anderson, and Chavez have been terrible. And Raul Casanova. Our catcher while Brian Schneider is recovering from an infected left hand. I have a request. This may be asking a lot. When you hit a ball to the wall, instead of skipping to your Lou, can you freakin' run hard? Who the hell are you to not bust your ass on the baseball diamond? Get lost, goodbye. I am sick of the lackadaisical and crybaby attitudes that still permeates this clubhouse.
By the way, there have been four grand slam home runs hit in baseball this year. Mets relief pitchers have given up three of them.
And then I had a 45 minute drive home through an absolute storm and got held up by a freight train in West Chicago for 5 minutes. Got in at 10:00 p.m. So that's 17 hours straight out of the house. I am now in the heated dungeon unloading on Claim Jumper's caramel apple cream cheese pie (TDF!) and a lot of milk. And I wonder where someone is tonight... They have a lot to answer for.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Thank God for hockey
Because I am absolutely incensed at the disgrace that is the New York Mets these last three days.
Driving into Chicago this morning on 90, I was not feeling overly optimistic. Nelson Figueroa was pitching for us and I knew he was due for a rough game. But I tried to get in a good mood. I called my father, hoping he could give me some reason to feel excited. He failed. As I drove through the Second City, I blasted "Meet the Mets" from my car. I ran into Julie at Murphy's Bleachers and she introduced me to a few other Mets fans. I even met Regis C, one of the writers on metsblog.com. I drank a six dollar Chicago brew (I guess they double the prices on game days) and hung with about 15-20 Met fans for a little over an hour, talking the Mets, travel, and whatever else. And then the SNY television crew came by. They actually shot us and put us on camera! I have no idea if it went on TV, but it was fun. Little did I know it would be the only fun thing that would happen today.
I wanted the Mets to jump on Ted Lilly early. I felt they had to get their offense working quickly, jump out to a quick lead, and silence the crowd. Well, we couldn't even get a baserunner in the first three innings. And Carlos Delgado's strikeout nearly made me spew out my hot dogs I had eaten 30 minutes before. He whiffs on three straight pitches, and the last swing looked like Phil Mickelson playing a lob golf shot out of the deep rough. Easy and slow back, easy and slow through, swing straight down to the ball. Somebody walk this guy out to the glue factory and just shoot him. I'm almost begging for Mo Vaughn to come back, 400 pounds and all.
Meanwhile, the bottom of the second inning was my first nervous moment. Figueroa loads the bases with nobody out. But he gets Ronny Cedeno (and I'll get to him a in a bit) and gets Henry Blanco to ground into a double play. No runs allowed, an incredible inning. Of course, as I and the several thousand of my fellow Mets fans in attendance celebrated, some jackass cracks "Go Phillies!" I had a few counters in mind, but why bother wasting my time with a waste of life such as that?
Then in the fourth, the Mets start doing what they do best. Failing to deliver big hits. Reyes leads off and strikes out. Pagan doubles to right and would have gone to third if he didn't trip and fall after rounding second. Wright walks, Beltran walks, and the bases are loaded for Delgado. All I was hoping was for him to hit the ball out of the infield. I knew he was never getting a hit. He pops up. Damion Easley comes up. I was so excited about him playing second. I felt he would mash Lilly. Pops up to second.
Bottom of the fourth. One on with two outs. Cedeno doubles and Blanco is intentionally walked to bring up the pitcher. Slow roller between first and second. Delgado and Figueroa wait for each other to make the play, bases loaded. A total lack of fundamentals. Reed Johnson singles, 3-0.
Top of the fifth, 2 on for the Mets, Pagan pops out.
Top of the sixth. Bases loaded for Brady Clark with one out. Fielder's choice, one run scores. Raul Casnova grounds out, two more stranded.
I'd had it. I knew we were done. Before the seventh, I took off for the 1.5 mile walk back to my car. I found out later Jorge Sosa gives up yet another big home run, this one a grand slam to that a-hole Cedeno, who has been as big an underachiever the Cubs have had in the last 5 years. Now he plays the Mets and he's All-World. He kills us with big hits in two straight games. It's sick. Another R. Cedeno I would like to castrate with a hatchet.
People ask me why I don't like Cub fans. Well, put it this way. Between the comments I heard walking to the park, and everything I heard when I was in my seat, I know Marty Brenneman was right when he said "They are the most obnoxious fans in baseball." And I will add this to his comments. These fans live in a bubble. They shout about how they're so entitled to glory and success. God forbid strike three is ever called on a Cub. And now they apparently struck a deal with Benihana to wear those gay looking headbands for Fukodome. Forget the Cubbies, they are in my mind the Bubbles. Because that's the environment they exist in.
And here is why it is harder to be a Mets fan than a Cubs fan. Nobody cares about us. The Cubs are the chic team in baseball, have been for 30 years. It's fashionable and easy to ride on their bandwagon, which millions are doing right now. It's fake. It's phony. If there was a ever a baseball franchise that would have had too much plastic surgery, it's the Cubs. It takes a lot more toughness and character to root for a team that plays second fiddle to the Yankees and still loses so consistently. The Mets are hated because of the New York aura, yet we're not in style around the world like the Yankees. There's just no way to win in that situation.
And there's this. When the Cubs blow a lead, they get all the sympathy and tears from everyone. Mets choke away the division the way they did, we're snickered at and mocked. Why? Because we're from New York? Because we have a few dollars to spend?
Now onto the future. The Mets could win the NL East. It's not completely inconceivable. But I have no confidence this team can defeat the Bubbles or the Diamondbacks or the Padres in a series. This team is assembled poorly, performing poorly, and I hate to say it, coached poorly. Willie Randolph, I like you as a man, but my patience is wearing very, very thin.
Driving into Chicago this morning on 90, I was not feeling overly optimistic. Nelson Figueroa was pitching for us and I knew he was due for a rough game. But I tried to get in a good mood. I called my father, hoping he could give me some reason to feel excited. He failed. As I drove through the Second City, I blasted "Meet the Mets" from my car. I ran into Julie at Murphy's Bleachers and she introduced me to a few other Mets fans. I even met Regis C, one of the writers on metsblog.com. I drank a six dollar Chicago brew (I guess they double the prices on game days) and hung with about 15-20 Met fans for a little over an hour, talking the Mets, travel, and whatever else. And then the SNY television crew came by. They actually shot us and put us on camera! I have no idea if it went on TV, but it was fun. Little did I know it would be the only fun thing that would happen today.
I wanted the Mets to jump on Ted Lilly early. I felt they had to get their offense working quickly, jump out to a quick lead, and silence the crowd. Well, we couldn't even get a baserunner in the first three innings. And Carlos Delgado's strikeout nearly made me spew out my hot dogs I had eaten 30 minutes before. He whiffs on three straight pitches, and the last swing looked like Phil Mickelson playing a lob golf shot out of the deep rough. Easy and slow back, easy and slow through, swing straight down to the ball. Somebody walk this guy out to the glue factory and just shoot him. I'm almost begging for Mo Vaughn to come back, 400 pounds and all.
Meanwhile, the bottom of the second inning was my first nervous moment. Figueroa loads the bases with nobody out. But he gets Ronny Cedeno (and I'll get to him a in a bit) and gets Henry Blanco to ground into a double play. No runs allowed, an incredible inning. Of course, as I and the several thousand of my fellow Mets fans in attendance celebrated, some jackass cracks "Go Phillies!" I had a few counters in mind, but why bother wasting my time with a waste of life such as that?
Then in the fourth, the Mets start doing what they do best. Failing to deliver big hits. Reyes leads off and strikes out. Pagan doubles to right and would have gone to third if he didn't trip and fall after rounding second. Wright walks, Beltran walks, and the bases are loaded for Delgado. All I was hoping was for him to hit the ball out of the infield. I knew he was never getting a hit. He pops up. Damion Easley comes up. I was so excited about him playing second. I felt he would mash Lilly. Pops up to second.
Bottom of the fourth. One on with two outs. Cedeno doubles and Blanco is intentionally walked to bring up the pitcher. Slow roller between first and second. Delgado and Figueroa wait for each other to make the play, bases loaded. A total lack of fundamentals. Reed Johnson singles, 3-0.
Top of the fifth, 2 on for the Mets, Pagan pops out.
Top of the sixth. Bases loaded for Brady Clark with one out. Fielder's choice, one run scores. Raul Casnova grounds out, two more stranded.
I'd had it. I knew we were done. Before the seventh, I took off for the 1.5 mile walk back to my car. I found out later Jorge Sosa gives up yet another big home run, this one a grand slam to that a-hole Cedeno, who has been as big an underachiever the Cubs have had in the last 5 years. Now he plays the Mets and he's All-World. He kills us with big hits in two straight games. It's sick. Another R. Cedeno I would like to castrate with a hatchet.
People ask me why I don't like Cub fans. Well, put it this way. Between the comments I heard walking to the park, and everything I heard when I was in my seat, I know Marty Brenneman was right when he said "They are the most obnoxious fans in baseball." And I will add this to his comments. These fans live in a bubble. They shout about how they're so entitled to glory and success. God forbid strike three is ever called on a Cub. And now they apparently struck a deal with Benihana to wear those gay looking headbands for Fukodome. Forget the Cubbies, they are in my mind the Bubbles. Because that's the environment they exist in.
And here is why it is harder to be a Mets fan than a Cubs fan. Nobody cares about us. The Cubs are the chic team in baseball, have been for 30 years. It's fashionable and easy to ride on their bandwagon, which millions are doing right now. It's fake. It's phony. If there was a ever a baseball franchise that would have had too much plastic surgery, it's the Cubs. It takes a lot more toughness and character to root for a team that plays second fiddle to the Yankees and still loses so consistently. The Mets are hated because of the New York aura, yet we're not in style around the world like the Yankees. There's just no way to win in that situation.
And there's this. When the Cubs blow a lead, they get all the sympathy and tears from everyone. Mets choke away the division the way they did, we're snickered at and mocked. Why? Because we're from New York? Because we have a few dollars to spend?
Now onto the future. The Mets could win the NL East. It's not completely inconceivable. But I have no confidence this team can defeat the Bubbles or the Diamondbacks or the Padres in a series. This team is assembled poorly, performing poorly, and I hate to say it, coached poorly. Willie Randolph, I like you as a man, but my patience is wearing very, very thin.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Roller coaster update on Brian
Brian had his first round of double chemo on Monday. He was supposed to get to the hospital at 10 am and be home by 2. Didn't quite work that way. His treatment did not begin until 3 p.m. and he was actually awake when they administered the chemo. First, they ran the usual tests, heart rate, blood pressure, etc. Then they gave him two sets of medications, two pills in each set. The first set was fine. He then took the second. He was in the operation room with Susan having a conversation when all of a sudden, he began experiencing pains in his left side. Then he suddenly could not talk. He was terrified that he might be having a stroke. The doctors rushed over to him, shot him full of Benadryl, and thankfully, he was stabilized within an hour.
A Dr. House (I'm trying to find out if he's a British guy just speaking with an American accent) was one of the doctors working on him. After the drama had settled, he chatted with Brian. He was feeling optimistic. He told Brian "I will be surprised if you are not golf balls within six to eight weeks." And today was a critical day after his first round of chemo. He had no fever, headaches, stomach issues, etc. This is a great sign after a terrible scare. In three weeks, he goes back for his next round of chemo.
Now he's home, but his immune system is incredibly weak. So there are some restrictions in place for the next two weeks. He cannot touch a human being, drink anything cold, or open a refrigerator or a freezer. But I am starting to feel more and more optimistic. I thank God for hope. It's funny how hope can drive a person crazy and calm them too!
A Dr. House (I'm trying to find out if he's a British guy just speaking with an American accent) was one of the doctors working on him. After the drama had settled, he chatted with Brian. He was feeling optimistic. He told Brian "I will be surprised if you are not golf balls within six to eight weeks." And today was a critical day after his first round of chemo. He had no fever, headaches, stomach issues, etc. This is a great sign after a terrible scare. In three weeks, he goes back for his next round of chemo.
Now he's home, but his immune system is incredibly weak. So there are some restrictions in place for the next two weeks. He cannot touch a human being, drink anything cold, or open a refrigerator or a freezer. But I am starting to feel more and more optimistic. I thank God for hope. It's funny how hope can drive a person crazy and calm them too!
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Update on Brian
Well, Brian has the pump in his chest as of a week ago. During that time, they removed his gallbladder nad a portion of his infected liver as well. From Monday morning-Tuesday night, he had a series of tests done and nothing negative came out of them. Now he's home, but last night, he was only able to sleep for two hours. Supposedly, he has lost a lot of weight and is incredibly thin. He doesn't even want to be looked at, he feels so bad about it. His appetite is coming back though. I believe the chemotherapy starts in the next week or so and he goes in for treatments once every 2-3 weeks. Let's see what happens.
Of course, I know he was happy about the Rangers defeating the Devils in Game 1 tonight!
Of course, I know he was happy about the Rangers defeating the Devils in Game 1 tonight!
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Should anyone be surprised?
Because I am not. Last week, my father asked me to predict the six division winners in baseball. Of course, he's a Braves fan and picked the Mets and I'm a Mets fan and the strange thing was, with a gnawing, painful feeling in my stomach, he asked who I thought would win the NL East and I said "The Braves." My father literally said I had lost my mind. My feelings had nothing to do with the "lack of respect" BS that Atlanta would try to play since "everyone" is picking the Mets or Phillies. I felt the Phillies did not have enough pitching after their top two starters, the Mets were old and had a brutal lineup, and the Braves were more well-rounded. Well, once again, when I'm right about sports, it absolutely bites me.
Game 1 on Friday night. The Mets had Thursday off, and had just taken 2 of 3 from Florida. Atlanta, meanwhile, comes off a tough series against Pittsburgh with extra inning games, rallies, back and forth action. Their bullpen was spent. So what happens in Atlanta on Friday. A little rain in the morning, which stops by Friday afternoon by the way, and they call the game off. How convenient. So we go to Saturday afternoon. John Maine, the great John Maine, the best pitcher in spring training, huh? Can't even get his team to the fifth inning. And in the top of the fifth, the Mets are down 4-1. Bases loaded, Reyes singles. 4-2. Luis Castillo and David Wright both ground out and a golden opportunity against Tim Hudson was wasted. Right there, I knew the Mets were in trouble. The Braves make it 5-3 until the 7th when Kelly Johnson hits the grand slam off Jorge Sosa. Game over, kaput.
And then today. I just wanted the split of the series. And we have the great Johan Santana pitching. And he does great. Seven innings, one run, three strikeouts, no walks. But there's that little problem called the Met offense. We chased Smoltz out after just five innings which meant a lot of shots at their bullpen. And we get two singles over four innings. The only Mets extra base hit comes by the pitcher! Santana leads off the third with a double and Reyes, Castillo, and Wright can't even get him to third and a golden opportunity is pissed away. Eighth inning: Teixeira homers off Heilman in the eighth, 3-0. Of course, we get the tease in the ninth. 3 walks by Soriano with a hit by Church. One run in, the go ahead run at bat. Schneider swings at the first damn pitch, grounds out to first, we lose 3-1. Can't wait for the home opener against Philly on Tuesday.
And then you put on top of that the New York Rangers. 7-0 against New Jersey this season. One game to determine who has home ice in their first round playoff matchup. And they did not give a damn about this game. They get outshot 9-2 in the first period. Not even 10 minutes in, five odd man rushes for New Jersey and two goals. Game over. TV off. Good luck in the series. Way to give the Devils their confidence back, boys. Sean Avery, are you out there????
Game 1 on Friday night. The Mets had Thursday off, and had just taken 2 of 3 from Florida. Atlanta, meanwhile, comes off a tough series against Pittsburgh with extra inning games, rallies, back and forth action. Their bullpen was spent. So what happens in Atlanta on Friday. A little rain in the morning, which stops by Friday afternoon by the way, and they call the game off. How convenient. So we go to Saturday afternoon. John Maine, the great John Maine, the best pitcher in spring training, huh? Can't even get his team to the fifth inning. And in the top of the fifth, the Mets are down 4-1. Bases loaded, Reyes singles. 4-2. Luis Castillo and David Wright both ground out and a golden opportunity against Tim Hudson was wasted. Right there, I knew the Mets were in trouble. The Braves make it 5-3 until the 7th when Kelly Johnson hits the grand slam off Jorge Sosa. Game over, kaput.
And then today. I just wanted the split of the series. And we have the great Johan Santana pitching. And he does great. Seven innings, one run, three strikeouts, no walks. But there's that little problem called the Met offense. We chased Smoltz out after just five innings which meant a lot of shots at their bullpen. And we get two singles over four innings. The only Mets extra base hit comes by the pitcher! Santana leads off the third with a double and Reyes, Castillo, and Wright can't even get him to third and a golden opportunity is pissed away. Eighth inning: Teixeira homers off Heilman in the eighth, 3-0. Of course, we get the tease in the ninth. 3 walks by Soriano with a hit by Church. One run in, the go ahead run at bat. Schneider swings at the first damn pitch, grounds out to first, we lose 3-1. Can't wait for the home opener against Philly on Tuesday.
And then you put on top of that the New York Rangers. 7-0 against New Jersey this season. One game to determine who has home ice in their first round playoff matchup. And they did not give a damn about this game. They get outshot 9-2 in the first period. Not even 10 minutes in, five odd man rushes for New Jersey and two goals. Game over. TV off. Good luck in the series. Way to give the Devils their confidence back, boys. Sean Avery, are you out there????
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Brian's latest news: it's good
One week ago, he seemed really despondent. He had lost a lot of weight, about 30 pounds form what I hear. All he wanted was a prognosis on how long he had to live. That's a scary thought, considering how upbeat and ergetic he usually is. The doctor wouldn't tell him he had a certain amount of time; they said they could help him pending an MRI. If he had enough bone density and various other factors were good, he would be eligible for double chemotherapy, where they surgically place a titanium pump in the chest and that pump distributes the "medicine" to the diseased organs. If not, it would probably tradiotional chemo or radiation, which is usually pretty risky.
Great news. After the MRI results came back today, it was determined that Brian is indeeed eligible for this treatment. He was expecting the worst news and got about the best he could have hoped for. If everything goes according to plan, he could conceivably beat this in 6 or so months. Now that is being very optimistic. But I believe God can and does heal. For now, he will be in the hospital through Monday and his gall bladder will be removed. And he will go in for treatments several times a month probably through the end of the year.
There is some legitimate hope. Praise God.
Great news. After the MRI results came back today, it was determined that Brian is indeeed eligible for this treatment. He was expecting the worst news and got about the best he could have hoped for. If everything goes according to plan, he could conceivably beat this in 6 or so months. Now that is being very optimistic. But I believe God can and does heal. For now, he will be in the hospital through Monday and his gall bladder will be removed. And he will go in for treatments several times a month probably through the end of the year.
There is some legitimate hope. Praise God.
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