Church and Jeans

Growing up I didn’t go to church much. I went to CCD every Wednesday, but rarely church on Sundays. In fact, my father used to say “There’s 2 things you never talk about; Politics and Religon”. He followed that up by saying “No one wins and you won’t change their opinion”. This made sense to me. Throughout the years, I’ve listened to that advice pretty well. From time to time I’d talk about politics but it was mostly uneducated thoughts that were regurgitated from what I heard from others. I came across as moronic and ignorant. Since then, I’ve educated myself on some, yet I reserve the right to plead the “5th”. I go and vote but I keep my vote, and my opinion to myself. This particular post is not about politics however. This is about church, religion, faith, and my clothes of choice while searching for the aforementioned.

I’ve heard multiple times “My God doesn’t care if I go to church or not”. For many years, I may have concurred. Recently, my opinion on this has changed. Recently I have started questioning my faith and what it means to me. I’ve always believed in God and a higher power. I’ve never understood what it meant though. I’m not sure I do now. Like anything else I’m ignorant in, and have interest, I study and learn more. That being said, I feel like I’m not completely ignorant to religion. I feel like your faith can’t be wrong because it’s yours. I have found myself in church more often the last few months. In fact, it wouldn’t be a far stretch to say I’ve been to church more in the last few months than my entire life combined.

The church I’ve been a member for my entire life, left me with more questions than answers. It felt like I was just another butt in the pew. From time to time I did think that the gentleman up front was talking directly to me. Most of the time, I felt like as if I was just there. With anything else in life, you only get what you put into it. I’m not sure if I gave it a fair chance. I know now I am and I feel different.

As I find myself sitting in the pew, I glance to both sides of me. To my left, is my family. To my right, is more family. I realized at that point, there is no place I’d rather be. My bride, all four children, 2 of my nephews, and both my mother, and father in law were in that pew with me. In front of me is the congregation,the gentleman giving the sermon, and Christ. I’d say that’s pretty good company. At that point I figured it’s time to make the next step in my faith. It’s time to be a more regular member of church. I used to complain about getting up so early on a Sunday. I didn’t want to sacrifice my sleep time. How ridiculous is that? I’m pretty sure Jesus sacrificed more than just sleep for you and I. His problems were far greater than that of getting up at 7:30 am to better yourself and family.

I walk into church and I’m welcomed with a handshake, a “Hello”, and a “Nice to see you”. I’m ready to learn and better myself. I walk in wearing jeans, and a fleece. For years people have gone to church in dresses and suits. My bride looks stunning as usual as she is decked out in a beautiful dress with lots of other girl stuff. Proving that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, my girls are stunning as well. My boys? Well, my boys have picked up on dad’s poor example and may be under dressed for church. My thought is simple; I want to be comfortable while I get comfortable in my faith. I feel like Jesus is pretty stoked that I’m there and paying attention. Should it matter what I’m wearing? Personally, I don’t think so. Like many other things, I may be wrong. I like to think that Peter isn’t going to turn me away because I was in jeans.

I like the idea of knowing the people that are at church. I gotta believe they aren’t much different than me. Hard working people in your community trying to better themselves through Christ. Sounds pretty awesome to me. Someone out there knows more than me and I’m sure is willing to share it. That’s what I’ve found while searching for my faith. Everyone has an opinion on how to find it. While searching for the best church for me and my family, I reached out for advice. The single best piece of advice I got was this; “Go to where you are comfortable and welcomed. Go to the church that can help not only grow your faith, but your families faith as well”. I couldn’t find a way to argue that.

In the near future we will go through roughly 16 weeks of classes. We’ll learn all about The Bible and the way of our new church. I’m excited for the opportunity to spend some time with the leaders of our new church. I feel like after each session I’ll come out with the tools to be a better Chistian, father, husband, and overall person. I’m hoping to improve my overall quality of life through my faith. I may do that wearing jeans or sweats.

So after being an alcoholic for most of my life, I’m finally searching for my faith. After 4 years of sobriety I’m looking for Christ. After baptizing all my children, I’m ready to understand the true meaning of it. I’m ready to understand why I received my 1st communion as a child. I want to get confirmed and realize the importance of it. I want to bring my family with me for this journey. I won’t force them. I hope they see the transformation I’m trying to make and join me. I have visions of being baptized again. I have a vision of all 6 of us taking up an entire pew as we grow closer to each other and Christ.

While you chose to attend church in a suit or sweats, I’m a firm believer in it. Today I choose to ignore the advice I got several years ago. Today I will not be scared to discuss my faith or beliefs. I won’t push them on you or yours, but I want to declare right now, right here, that I will grow within my faith. I will do this by attending classes, reading, and by attending church. And yes, I may do this while wearing jeans.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is this; if I were to tell you that you can better your overall life with the greatest kind of company, why wouldn’t you? If someone can tell me how going to church and strengthening my faith is going to hurt me, I’ll gladly listen. Until then, I fully intend to to go down this journey. I fully intend to reach out to different people and ask for advice. I fully intend to raise my spirituality to heights I’ve never known. I fully intend to have a better relationship with my higher power. Chances are, I’ll do this all while wearing jeans or sweats.

My father also said “It doesn’t hurt to get a little churchen up every now and then”. That’s a bit of advice I fully plan on taking advantage of. The only questions I have are as follows. How far will I go and who’s coming with me? If you decide to come with me, I don’t care what you wear. You can even wear sweats. After all, our savior wore a pretty nice cloth that looked awfully comfortable. This chapter in my life has officially begun. Now I just have to find a name for it. While I’m searching for my faith, perhaps I’ll stumble across that answer is well. “It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey”. My journey has begun
By: Sam Mooney

A Royal Experience

My father in law is a Twins fan. I’m a fan of baseball. On August 10th 1994 I quit watching the game and gave my allegiance to the NFL. In 1998 with the help of Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, my interest in the game was reborn. Prior to ’94 I was an Oakland Athletics fan. Since then, I really have had no loyalty to one team or the other. I love the game. That being said, I make the four hour drive to Target field every year with my father in law to watch his beloved Twins. We usually see about a half dozen games a year. This year we decided to visit Kaufman Stadium, home of the Kansas City Royals. After the experience we had, I may just have a new team to cheer for.

The 2014 All-Star game is in MN this year. My father in law being a big Twins fan, naturally would love to attend. Me, being a huge baseball fan, don’t feel much different than he does. We’ve talked about that weekend since it was announced as the venue. As we discussed how we were going to make this trip a reality, it became clear we wouldn’t. Life happens and the cost would be just too much for us. The “consolation” prize was Kaufman Stadium. We’ve talked about it for years and we finally made it a reality. The “K” did not disappoint!

After church, my bride, my father in law, mother in law and myself all went out for brunch. While eating we pulled up the Twins schedule and realized they were in KC for a 3 game series over the weekend of the 18th, 19th, and 20th of April 2014. After some delicate, and slick talking, we convinced our wives to let us go. Next step; tickets. Straight to his house and to the computer! Once tickets are bought and payed for, we realized the “mistake” we made. This was Easter weekend. Neither lady was overly thrilled at what happened but they both understood the importance to us. You see this trip isn’t just about baseball.

Friday morning rolls around and it’s time to hit the road. From our home town to Kaufman Stadium is roughly 7.5 hours south. You can’t take that kind of drive with just anyone. You need a special kind of relationship to endure over 7 hours in a vehicle with someone. We have that kind of relationship. To most, 7 hour car drives seem boring and unrewarding. For me, it was one on one time with one of my favorite people. 7.5 hours quickly disappeared with silly banter, bad jokes, and a few unexpected moments of “road rage”. In what seemed like a blink of an eye, we found our way to our destination; One Royal Way, better known as Kaufman Stadium, home of the Kansas City Royals. A 3 game series with just him and I. Each game brought a unique experience with what seemed like it was catered specifically for us.

Friday: Game time 7:10 pm.
After over 7 hours of driving we are finally standing outside the gate. Neither one of us had been there and the anticipation was that of a child on Christmas morning. Standing in line for what seemed to be an hour, (it was actually just about 15 minutes) the gates open and we float into the “K”. We are greeted with a smile and a “Hello! Welcome to the K! Enjoy the game”. This was odd for me. I’ve been to many different professional venues and the workers don’t seem very interested in saying “Hello” let alone helping. These helpful workers would be become a staple of our weekend.

We walk around the beauty of what is the “K”. From the awe inspiring water falls in center field to the majestic Crown towering above the falls, this stadium is gorgeous!! After taking countless pictures, we finally go to our seats. The seats were reasonably priced and we were more than happy with them. First pitch is thrown and the lights come on. The beauty of this venue is slapping us both in the face. The game didn’t seem important to me that night. It was more about spending too much $ on food and drink. It was about the laughs and silly conversations. The sights, sounds, and smells of the park enamored me. The Twins lost, yet neither of us were bummed. We finally got to see this park and the company was amazing!! As great as Friday was, it fails in comparison to Saturday.

The week of the trip I spent some time on the Royals website. We love touring ball fields as you learn so much about the team, stadium, and generally get to go on the field. $20 well spent. Well the Royals offer a variety of tours which I thought was neat. So after browsing for a while I run across the “Game Day All Access Tour” for a “mere” cost of $300 you get a bevy of prizes. The focus of this is being on the field for batting practice and the 1st base camera bay for the National Anthem. So I sent an email to Morrie from the Royals. Morrie called me back immediately after the email was sent. He was incredibly helpful and now all I had to do was convince my “boss” to let me spend the extra money. After that hurdle was cleared, my father in law had to get permission from his wife as well. They both gave us the green light and the tour was on!!

Morrie was nice enough to give us reserved parking so we belly up to front row parking behind the stadium. We make the jaunt to gate C where we are greeted with another “Hello! Good morning and welcome to the K!” We are then introduced to both Morrie and Judy. After a quick introduction and a minor “wardrobe malfunction” we start the tour. You see my father in law is a die hard Twins fan. That morning we were guest of the Royals and his attire wasn’t Royal appropriate. So after a quick change from a Twins shirt to a nice Royals polo, we start one of the most amazing experiences of our lives.

As we sit in the media room, I’m reminded of how special this weekend is. It’s not every day you’re sitting in a big league media room. This is the room where managers and players sit at the table and answer a plethora of what seems like unnecessary questions. Where managers get second guessed and members of the media act like they know more than the managers and players. After some explanation of a few pictures and a photo opp, we head to the field. As a kid, all I ever wanted to do is hit a baseball for a living. Lack of talent never afforded me that luxury. Standing on a MLB field, is the closet I’ll ever get. In one word; it’s awesome!!

Standing in the on deck circle with the clay beneath your feet is impressive indeed. A smile lights up my face as I have that feeling as a kid on Christmas just after opening the gift and realizing you got EXACTLY what you wanted. Seeing my father in law on the same spot, with the same smile was priceless!! We get a few pictures and watch the Royals come out onto the field one by one. Both Morrie and Judy knew exactly how to handle this scenario. For the most part, they left us alone. They let us take pictures, talk to each other, laugh and smile without interruption. Every now and then, Judy would swing over and check on us. They were both amazing. Their efforts will always be near and dear to me.

Listening to the crack of the bat will forever be thrusted into my memory. The talent these ball players have is definitely a show of shows. Being that close to them hitting is nothing short of remarkable. As we are watching BP, Judy comes over and says “Why don’t you say hi to Morrie” Turns out Morrie is having a sit down visit with Salvador Perez, Gold Glove catcher for the Royals. Salvador signs our complimentary canvas print, shakes our hands, and heads off to work. At that point Aoki runs by and drops something on the filed. Judy picks it up and is clearly complexed by what it is. She hands it to me and I tell her it’s a finger guard. For a brief moment I put it on and demonstrate to her how it works and explain it’s use. Just then Aoki comes over and is looking for it. I slide it off my finger and reach out to hand it to him. He smiles at me, signs our canvas print, and even poses for a picture with us. To him that was an encounter I’m sure he’s forgotten. To us, it will be a life lasting memory.

After idle chit chat while BP is going, our on field experience is about to wrap up. Just when we thought it was over, Billy Butler, DH for the Royals, graces us with a handshake and an autograph. He was genuine and kind. He had that big league persona yet seemed very humble. It was clear that he enjoys being a big league ball player. From there it was time to head upstairs. As we are on our way to meet Rex Hudler, we run into Dick Bramer, announcer for the Minnesota Twins!! This was a treat for my father in law as he loves the Twins and enjoys listening to Dick call games. Mr. Bramer was incredibly kind as we visited for a bit and he posed for a picture and gave us both an autograph. After that meeting, it was onto to meet Rex Hudler. Like many before him he greeted us with a smile, handshake and an autograph. I was flabbergasted by how polite and genuine everyone was.

After a whirlwind of events and handshakes its off to the first base camera bay for a front row seat to the greatest song ever composed, the Star-Spangled Banner. Walking though the bowels of the stadium was neat indeed. Aoki and Justin Maxwell glide right by us as they head to the field. Waiting to head up to the field we are standing right in front of the color guard. A humbling experience it was. As we head up the steps, just at the top of the stairs is the host of Crown Vision. We chat for a minute and I come to find out there is a slim possibility that I can throw out the 1st pitch for Sundays game!! I make my sell to her and she takes down our seating info. During the singing of the Anthem, I’m over whelmed by a sense of patriotism and pride. Goose bumps fill my arms as I relish what I know to be our final moments in this phenomenal tour. Upon completion Judy escorts us to our seats and our tour is officially over.

The excitement of what is surely not your normal game day experience isn’t over though. As we sit down in our cushy seats, I glance to my left and look at the gentleman sitting directly next to me. Turns out he’s a scout for the Cleveland Indians. The guys in front of us are scouts for the Rangers and the Red Sox. I would have loved for nothing more than to pick his brain, but I understood they were all working. In between innings I idly chatted with him but knew better to try and have a lengthy conversation. It was fun watching the radar gun right in front of me though! To add to an already amazing day, we were catered to at the game. Our normal stadium food of hamburgers, hot dogs,and peanuts were delivered right to us!! Thirsty? No problem, they’ve got a soda for you just a few minutes away!! I didn’t miss a single pitch of that game and I’m very grateful for that.

After the game we head over to meet Morrie one last time and he showers us with gifts. A signed bat and ball for both of us being the highlight. I told him of the possibility of throwing out the 1st pitch and he says “We better get you a Royals shirt!!” He gives me a nice Royals polo and sends us packing with yet another handshake and autograph. Walking out the stadium with a big league bat hoisted over my shoulder truly was a memorable walk. Honored and blessed for that experience is truly an understatement. We go back to our room, grill some steaks, and revel in what was truly an unforgettable experience.

Sunday morning rolls around and it’s time for the finale. I park my butt in my seat as I’m waiting for my invitation to complete a lifelong dream of throwing out the 1st pitch. While that invitation never came, I can’t help but not be bummed. How can I be bummed when I just had an amazing weekend of ball and family!! 3 games in 3 days and one wicked sunburn!! Countless memories of players, sites, sounds, and the smell of the ball park. I’m reminded that every where we went we were greeted with a handshake, a smile, and a welcome. It’s no wonder Kansas City is Royal.

As a fan I appreciate the hospitality the Royals showed us. It was an experience very similar to that of Disney Land. Every where we went people were kind and generous. To Morrie, Judy, and the entire Kansas City Royals organization, I thank you. I thank you for making this trip memorable for both my father in law and myself. The Royals are a class act organization from the players to the young lady who wanded me at the gates. She wanded me with a smile, a handshake, and a genuine love for her job. Gilda, a member of the stadium ushers was Royal as well. Two large sodas, two pretzels, and a bag of peanuts in hand, I start making the trek back to my seat. I’m very careful as not to spill. This walk almost seemed like a marathon long. I’m incredibly nervous about dropping everything. Just when I thought the trip couldn’t get any better, Gilda says “Can I help you with that?” Absolutely!!! A simple gesture of bringing down our pretzels and saving me the embarrassment of spilling all over myself was impressive to me. I’ve been in that same scenario before and was never offered help. Gilda went above and beyond. She is the definition of kind. The Royals are impressive.

We drove 7.5 hours for a few baseball games. We stayed for all 27 innings but that’s secondary to the memories I’ll come home with. The definition of royal is “having the status of a king or queen or a member of their family” as I sit here and write this I have no crown on my head or a jestor giving me grapes. For 3 unforgettable days though I felt as if I did. We went to KC for a few baseball games, we came home with memories that are fitting of that of a King.

So I may not don a crown on my head or have an impressive chair, I do have a crown on my shirt. The crown of a Kansas City Royal. I guess that makes me Royal. With the help of some very special people, an organization, and a bunch of people who have already forgotten us, the Royals earned themselves one extra fan this weekend. A fitting end to a Royal trip!!

By: Sam Mooney

April 25, 2010 A day of redemption

The afternoon of April 25th 2010 I woke up in the middle of the afternoon. Before my sluggish feet hit the floor, I buried my weary face in my lifeless hands. I was defeated. I was a 29 year old boy without a clue. A husband and a father of four with zero direction. I was never known as Sam the dad, Sam the husband, or even Sam the friend. I was Sam, the guy with a drinking problem. I was Sam the alcoholic. That afternoon I became Sam.

For the 10’s of people that read what I “write” should know 2 things for certain. 1: I’m a recovering alcoholic. I’ve got 4 years sober and am incredibly proud of that. 2: I’m married to my best friend. She is the most inspirational woman in my life. I write about her often. This post she asked if she could write about me. Who am I to tell her no?

My bride makes a huge, HUGE, deal out of April 25th. She goes all out and I find it to be a very emotional day for me. Below are her words. For some reason she still loves me and I’m forever grateful to her. She’s the love of my life. There’s no doubt in my mind, without her, I’d be dead. Thank you Audrey. 4 years sober doesn’t make up for the years of drinking, and all the hurt I caused. It’s a start though and I thank you for making it a big day for all of us!!

April 25th is not JUST another day in the Mooney household. April 25th is a day we celebrate like a birthday, Christmas, anniversary, etc. April 25, 2010 changed our lives. It’s kind of a big deal!

On April 25, 2010 Sam woke up and gave us the best news ever. No he didn’t win the lottery, he didn’t get a raise at work and he didn’t do something so amazing that he was noticed by anyone but his family and friends. That morning he woke up and came to the kitchen to let me- his bride, and his 4 wonderful kids know that he was done. DONE. Done drinking. Now I have heard this before so yes, I was skeptical. He cried, I cried and the kids cried. There was something different this time. I just didn’t know what yet.

I was used to lies, deceit. The ups and downs of an alcoholic in the home. I grew up this way. This was nothing different. I knew that the only emotion an alcoholic had was drunk. Drunk as an emotion? Yes. He’s crying, why? He’s drunk. He’s so mad he punches a hole in the wall, why? He’s drunk. He’s so happy over the smallest little thing, he’s laughing uncontrollably at at something not so funny, why? He’s drunk. I’m an eye-roller and I know this. I have gotten better though because now I don’t have to roll my eyes at all of these aforementioned things.

Now there are emotions I never thought I would see. True happiness, true sadness, an anger that isn’t so scary. When he feels, I feel. There were emotions we hadn’t seen for years. As a mother, seeing your children play around with their father is both joyful and sexy as hell. Knowing that they love their daddy so much and that that love is reciprocated is pure joy. Playing catch with a softball or football is normal now – outside and yes, even inside. It’s the small things! The girls painting dads toenails, doing his hair, having dance offs with him. These are all things that I can’t wait to get home from work to see. Bonds with the kids that will last a lifetime!

3 Months go by and still holding onto hope but knowing that this is a “One day at a time” disease is playing with me. Do I trust him? Do I want what is to come? What if this is just a short lived fairytale? He asked me to renew our vows. I couldn’t. I wasn’t there yet. Fast forward a few more months and I knew. I knew my husband was everything he said he was going to be. He is my best friend, he is a father, a dad, he is my companion in life.

Many people asked me why I stayed, asked me why I didn’t leave him. Honestly, I tried. We barely made it to our 1st anniversay and then again our 10th. I’ve made mistakes. He made mistakes. We were young when we married and started having kids. A relationship is hard. Factor in alcohol and kids and a it got a whole lot harder. I’m glad I stayed. I’m glad we fought for us. Whether we did it at the same time or not – end result is still the same. We are happily married and parenting together! I’m not proud of our fights, Of our kids crying and seeing us at our worst, Of our family fighting. What I am proud of is him.

For some family and friends they decided Sam’s new life wasn’t for them. And as much as it makes me sad and wonder what the hell they are thinking, I come to the realization that some only liked/loved drunk Sam. They aren’t giving sober Sam a chance. Let me tell you that Sam being sober is beyond awesome. He’s still the same Sam. He’s still smart and loves a good sports trivia question, loves football and baseball, lives for softball in the summer. He’s still that guy that can sit down and play a video game for hours. He’s still a son, a brother, a friend, a husband, a father, an ump, a player, a coach, a human who has turned his life around. He just loves more, fights less, thinks things through and would rather stay home with his family versus going to a party/bar.

Do I wish this would have happened earlier in our marriage? Absolutely but it didn’t. I hold no more anger. No more throwing this or that in his face. No more bringing up the past unless in good fun. I let go. I let God. What I have today is what I have always wanted, prayed for. What I have today is a love for my husband that runs through every vein in my body.

Sam not only takes it one day at a time, he has been reached out to, to help others do this as well. He is amazing at it too. Spending time on the phone with friends in need. Listening to bits and pieces of other’s stories do tug at my heart because I know all to well but there is more to this. In the end, they will have won their lives back. They will gain control.

He has taken to blogging and if you haven’t read any of his writings, YOU SHOULD!! The way he paints a picture with his words is truly amazing! I’ve cried, I’ve laughed and I’ve been extremely happy to be by his side when he puts out a challenge, when he relives some of our past, when he is on top of the world due to the experiences he’s had at a football or baseball game.

Sam, you make me so happy. You make me so proud. You make me….ME. You are my better half. You are my till death do us part. I am happy we renewed our vows last year with our friends and family there. I am happy. I am in love. I’m enjoying every minute of everyday with the one I chose to live out the rest of my days with. You give me crazy butterflies. Everyday I wake up next to you, every time I hear your voice on the phone, every “Hey Momma” I hear, every text, everything about you, us makes my heart skip a beat.

So there you have it! For some reason, after the Ramen Noodle incident, the Super Bowl of 2004, and even the tots in the kitchen, she stuck it out. The plan is to bottle up whatever happened that afternoon and sell it. I’ll turn all alcoholics into loving husbands and wives across the country. I’ll make my bride proud and those that quit on me realize they gave up too soon.

I guess this is where I end this with a clever metaphor or a sappy thought. For this particular post I think I’ll keep it simple. Today I’ve been sober for four years and I’m damn proud of that!!

The uncomfort of a “Hotel Bed”

I’ve been married for 13+ years. I started dating my bride when I was in high school. Since I was 17, I’ve been in love with her. That love has evolved though. The older our relationship got, the stronger it’s become. My bride has taught me many things. Too many to write out. Loyalty may be the trait I’ve taken from her above all others. Being away from her makes me realize this. As I lay in my hotel room, I’m reminded of the things we’ve been through.

Every now and again I’ll take a “trip” without her. This particular one is a few states away for 3 baseball games with my father in law. While I love my father in law very much, he’s not near as good looking as my bride. We may be 400 miles away, but modern technology has bridged that gap. We talk, we look at the Facebook, we snapchat, and FaceTime. Point is, although we aren’t physically together, she’s always with me. I think about her constantly. I’m truly blessed to be married to my best friend.

For this particular post, I’ll save the incidents. I won’t bore you with the Ramen incident or the can wars. I will however say this, my brides love for me hasn’t wavered and that makes me want to be a better man. Without her loyalty to those vows she made 13+ years ago, I’m sure I wouldn’t be in this hotel bed today. Speaking of hotel beds;

I woke up at 5am this morning. I went to bed without my bride last night. It was very difficult for me to get comfortable. I didn’t know where to put my hands or arms. Do I sleep on my back or stomach? Do I figure 4 my legs or leave them straight? Why are these damn covers tucked into the bed not allowing me to move? I now have 3 gigantic pillows and no idea where to put them or what to do with them. Finally after none of these questions get answered, I fall asleep. I’m awaken a short time later by the misery of what is sleeping alone.

5am rolls around and now I’m awake. No wife, no kids, no plans till 10:30 am. “This is going to be amazing!! I’m sleeping in till 9am!!! No kids to wake this guy up!!” Famous last words of an ignorant man who misses his family. I’ve always known my bride has super powers but what she did this morning surpasses even her talent of changing a diaper with one hand in the dark. This morning, she placed her arm around me and helped me get back to sleep. 400 miles away and she still touches me. I realized it didn’t matter how I slept. It wasn’t the foreign bed that gave me the restless night or even all the covers tucked into the bed. It wasn’t my father in law snoring either. I missed my bride.

In her own way she took care of me again. She mad me realize it’s not the bed that makes me comfortable, it’s her that comforts me. Once I realized this, I was able to get an additional 2 hours of sleep. 7am on a Saturday morning, and here I am. Awake and alive. Reflecting on the most influential person in my life. The bed is still uncomfortable but it’s a little less ailing knowing it’s not the bed that gave me a restless night. It was/is my unconditional love for the most amazing person in my world.

It doesn’t matter what I slept on last night or tonight, it won’t be good enough. I feel another restless night will happen tonight. I’ve come to this simple conclusion that without her, no matter where I’m at, what I’m doing, or who I’m with, I’ll never be fully comfortable. While I’m excited for the plans we have today and tomorrow, the real excitement will come tomorrow night when I’m in my own bed with the person who gives me complete comfort.

Time for a divorce

I feel like it’s time to declare to the world that I’ve been unfaithful. For roughly the last 4 years I’ve been cheating. I’ve had another in my pants, in the same bed I lay with my bride, I’ve secretly tucked away so I can check on her, and I’ve paid her more attention than my bride while on a date night. I’ve even had her bigger sister in my lap while my kids are playing outside. While it takes courage to announce to the world I’ve been cheating, I feel like I owe it to my bride, and not only let her know, but everyone else as well. I’ve been cheating on my bride with both my iPhone and iPad.

I may be able to declare this divorce but to actually go through with it is different. Who knows me better than my iPhone? She knows all my dirty secrets. She knows all my inner thoughts as I type them on her slim keyboard. She keeps me company in the Dr. office, when stopped at the red light, and in between innings at a baseball game. She reads my emails and text messages. She’s in on all my conversations. She may know me better than anyone. When things get sour with her, I get her big sister, the iPad.

With this big beauty I ignore all others around me for what seems to be weeks while I crush candy. I “glance” down for just a “minute” and next thing I know my kids are married and we’re grandparents. I get lost in the abyss of what is her memorizing size. I ignore all others while I check a fantasy football or baseball score. 80 degrees outside and sunny? No worries; I’ve got the mini one to take with while I get my tan on. Need a little motivation before a workout or run? She knows all your favorite songs as she knows exactly when to play them.

As I declare this separation I’m reminded of things I’ve missed while I’ve been “cheating”. My son made a great catch in the front yard. My daughter said the funniest thing. My bride asked me if I wanted snot soup for supper and my response was “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you think”. Turns out she thinks I should put my damn phone away and pay attention to my family. Turns out I agree with her. Your electronic devices may be fun but I feel like there’s a time and a place. My sons football game, my daughters program, or dinner with the greatest woman on earth is probably not the best of places to have a relationship with these beauties. Unlimited text messages, unlimited data, nationwide service, and the App Store are all great things, so is a smile from my daughters. Having that game at your fingertips is a beautiful thing, so is the embrace of a 5 second hand hold with my bride over a dinner with no kids.

While I appreciate what these gigantic phone companies do for me, I also tend to get a little upset. Not at the phone companies but at myself. I’ve allowed a few devices to take away from the 5 most important people in my life. From answering a text, phone call, email, or checking this or that, it’s all time away. So today I’m going to officially declare a divorce from my devices. Maybe not a full fledge divorce but at least a little space. Maybe I leave them them back for a grill out out or a walk with my family. With any separation it can be tough. I’ll have to know that space is needed. That time is important. With all this extra time that I’m away from these devises, I may squeeze in a game of catch or just a simple conversation.

Getting that picture of your little one taking their 1st steps is important. Is it so important that you have to look through a screen to get it? I know I can get my mom on the phone right now and she can tell me exactly where, and what she was doing when I took my first jaunt. Point I’m trying to make is this; while your head is down trying to set up your favorite device, you never know what you’ll miss if your head was up. From here on out, I choose to spend more of my time with my head up. I choose to look at the beauty that is my brides eyes. I want to see my oldest son throw the ball to my youngest son while they both smile. I’d rather look up and see both my daughters hoola-hooping in the driveway.

A picture may be worth a thousand words but a thank you from my bride is far more satisfying than a picture. My daughter saying “Daddy, did you see that?” with me being able to say “Yes I did” is more important than the baseball score. I love my devices dearly but I love my family more. Moving forward I’m going to live my life with more of a heads up attitude. You just don’t know what you’ll miss with your head down.

That being said, this whole post was done on my iPad. This separation will be much harder than I thought

Softball Junkie

The game of softball is played several different ways. From competitive ball, to guys drinking a few beers and just playing around. There are teams that travel the state and others that even travel the country. There are teams of men, teams of women, and even a combination of both. There are Junior Olympic teams that compete. Kids playing that are 10 years old and younger. In any town across the country, chances are pretty good you can find a softball game going on any day of the week. You may even see a seniors game being played. Folks at the ripe young age of 65+ are still swinging at that big yellow ball. You can find that ball in a 11”, 12”, 14”, and even a 16”. Point is, no matter how old, or young, no matter what your skill set, the game of ASA softball has something for you.

The game of softball is much more than 10 individuals on the field. It’s far more complicated than just throwing and hitting. It’s more rewarding than hoisting a trophy or plaque. When played properly it teaches you how to communicate. If batter one comes up and fielder 6 knows how he hits, fielder 6 will talk to his pitcher and let him know. The pitcher then signals to the rest of the defense to let them know. This is something that happens quickly so the game also teaches you how to think fast. Communication is incredibly important in this game. How many times have we seen two outfielders chasing down a ball and it lands right between them? This happens because the 2 aren’t communicating. If one of them yell “GOT IT” or “BALL” this issue doesn’t occur. I’m sure there are careers out there that don’t require communication but I have to believe they’re not that many. In my everyday job, I talk on the phone with customers all day long in a sales atmosphere. Granted the information that is being communicated isn’t the same, but the game has taught me to think quickly while communicating clearly. This is a skill set that the game has sharpened for me.

Softball is all about the game played between the white lines. The players make the game. From diving catches to a throw deep in the hole that is dug out with a flawless stretch. Without the players, the game doesn’t exist. People come to see the players play. That being said the game couldn’t be played without the “Boys in blue” either. The unsung heroes of the great game. I have the pleasure of being both a player and an umpire. After umpping countless games, it gave me a better appreciation for the game. Who in their right mind wants to be an umpire? The job title should read as such. “How would you like to be yelled at daily? Are you interested in making split second decisions that will upset 50% of the people involved? If you said yes to these 1st two questions AND you are willing to be underpaid, then I have a job for YOU!!” Umpires are a necessity in the game. The keep the flow of the game going. They make the obvious calls such as balls, strikes, safe, and out. They are also making the ruling on a play that you’ve never heard of before. We are calling obstruction on a ground ball. We are taking the time to explain the rules to the game that you love. We have to be able to communicate with the players and coaches so they better understand the specific rules of the game. We are also communicating with each other constantly. We are discussing the previous play in between innings. We are talking this rule over while pointing out correct mechanics. It may be more important for an umpire to communicate than a player. With all this communicating going on, an umpires perfect game is to not be noticed. An umpire will never make every call correct in an game. You may miss a strike here or a ball there. Point is, we as umpires try to make the game about the player and not us.

The definition of confidence is “a feeling or belief that you can
do something well or succeed at something” If you are playing the competitive side of the game, you better have confidence. The game has taught me how to be confident. Playing any position you have to want the ball. You have to want to make that play to end the inning or rally. Do you have the stones to come up with the bases loaded with 2 outs down by 1 and come up with a single to tie, or better yet win the game? How will you react when the ball is hit on a liner to your glove side and if the ball gets by you, you lose the game? The game can humble you quickly. As a player, if you don’t have the confidence to come up with a play, chances are you won’t.

As an umpire you better have confidence in your call. If you give a soft out call on a bang bang play at 1st, you’re going to have 11 players down your throat. They are like sharks smelling blood. Players aren’t stupid, they can see doubt. I’ve heard players say “Are you sure? Are you telling me he’s out, or are you asking me?” You better have the confidence in both your mechanics and your voice when making that call. If you call a strike at 11’ tall in the 1st inning, are you going to have the confidence to call that same pitch a strike in the 7th in a one run game? You better! If not, you’ll hear about it. Confidence can be used in all facets of life. In my job, if I don’t exude confidence, my customer will hear this and whatever leverage I had is now gone completely. The game teaches you how to be confident. If you are standing out in Right Field with your head up in the clouds, all it takes is one guy to go that way and the flood gates will open. It’s very easy to find that one guy out in the field who looks “shaky” and the other 9 or 10 guys will go to that exact same spot, over and over. Same in my job. If my customer sees or hears I lack confidence, he’ll continue to try and negotiate a lower price. He can hear the lack of confidence and he will expose that.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is the game can be more than a game if you allow it. I was in a job interview last year and the following dialogue occurred.
Him: You’re an umpire. I’d imagine in that line of work you deal with a lot of adversity. How do you handle that?
Me: To be honest, I haven’t really dealt with a whole lot of adversity while umpiring.
Him: So you mean to tell me that you make every call right every time?
Me: I certainly don’t. However, the calls I do get wrong I sell them good enough to where they think I got it right.
The game can teach you as much as you want or as little. I choose to be a student of the game. I’ve passed this love on to my oldest. My family is a softball family. 7 days a week during the months of May through August we have softball. I ump or play. My kids play the game. My bride loves the game. At some point I’d like to give back to the game as I feel the game has given me so much. Part of my way of giving back is getting my kids involved as much as possible. My oldest is a sponge. He is with us ALL the time during ball events. He listens during every discussion and soaks up all that info. I see him use that info on the field when he plays. I’m very proud of him while he flashes those leadership qualities. He’s a warrior on the dirt. Proud dad moments happen frequently with him.

The game has taught me sportsmanship. How to act like a professional in an amateur sport. June 29th 2013 we are playing in a tournament out of state roughly 4 hours away. In our 1st game at 7:30 in the morning I broke my arm. The ball came up the middle and hit our pitchers leg. He attempted the throw from his back. As I went to scoop the ball, the runners shin collided with my arm and it exploded. Our left fielder heard the snap of my bone breaking. The other field heard it break. As I sit on my butt grasping my arm against my chest, I’m fighting back tears. I’m trying to be the “tough” guy as I don’t want my wife or sons to be worried. Hind sight being 20/20, they knew it was broke and I could’ve let those tears fly. As I’m laying there grimacing through my mouth guard I feel hands on my shoulders. I hear voices of concern. I see sorrow on faces of players. After what seemed to be an eternity, I finally got off the field and headed for the hospital. Upon returning to the field I was welcomed with questions, smiles, and hugs. My teammates took my sons with them for breakfast. They grabbed all my gear. They took care of my family because they knew we needed their help. They went above and beyond. They were amazing! Even after their well wishes and what nots, what happened next surprised me even more

After getting back to the complex complete with sling and medication, I was roaming through the area with my bride and some teammates. Standing at the concession, the manager of the team we were playing when I broke my arm approached me. He reached his hand out for a firm handshake and followed it with “How are you doing” as he glanced down at my arm. I informed him it was broken. His reaction to this day gives me goose bumps. He shared his condolences as tears welted up in his eyes. He shook my hand and gave me a hug and walked back to his teammates who were sitting at a picnic table. Keep in mind I’ve never met this man before in my life. I only know him from playing against him for 3 innings in a softball game. I glanced over as he delivered the news to his team. One by one that team came over to me and greeted me with a handshake and hug. I’ve never witnessed that display of sportsmanship in my life. I’ve been a part of several heated confrontations while on the field. I’ve seen a lot of ugly while umpping and playing. All that negative is outweighed by that team. It amazed me the compassion they showed to a complete stranger. His wife later came to me with an email address and told me to keep in touch. I remember telling my team, and more importantly my sons, that’s how you act. That’s a perfect example of how to be professional in an amateur sport.

To some the game of softball is a recreation sport to just hang out and “gives me something to do”. To others it’s a way of life. To me it’s an important part of my life. Through the game I’ve made connections all across the state in a short span. I hope to expand those connections each year as I never know where the game will take me. I’ve made lifelong friends that I’ve played against or with for years. I’ve learned from older players who are on their way out. I’ve listened to Hall of Fame umpires share the plethora of experience they have. I’ve sat in hotels near the pool and shared laughs with teammates as some idiot does a cannonball into the shallow end of the pool. I’ve sat in restaurants on the other side of the state with 10+ umpires from all different cities as we share stories and give our umpire in charge a hard time. While the people, location, and setting may all change, the once constant is the game. It always gets back to the game. When summer rolls around, it’s the game. The game takes care of family and friends.

If it weren’t for my bride, these softball experiences wouldn’t happen. My fondest “softball” experience was July 22nd 2013. Our head umpire calls a mandatory meeting before the games. This does not make me happy as I have to rush home and get ready to be there on time. When I show up,theres nobody there! After mulling over my options I’m feeling greeted by a pack of umpires. After complaining that they are all late, we mosy over to the other end of the fields. I come around the dug out and step into the field to see my entire family there! My whole family and my in laws are standing around the backstop. I glance over to the other dugout and my team is standing across from each other while crossing bats high in the air. My beautiful bride of 13 years surprised me with the most romantic renewal of vows in history! That’s right, we renewed our vows on field 7 right at home plate! Those renewals were complete with sideline chalk and dirt from the fields!! To this day it brings a smile to my face. All aspects of my life were in attendance that night. My families, my players, and my umpire family all there to support us. Home plate at field 7 will always be special to me. My bride is amazing and so is my softball family.

Some people give me a hard time for the amount of time I’m around the game. They ask how I can commit like that. I’ve had people say to me “don’t you want to have a life?” These are people that play the game and don’t play the game. The thing is, I’ve involved my family into the game. My family is my life. So the answer to that question is “I have a life” I choose to give back to the game that has given so much to me by being involved as much as I can. My oldest daughter starts playing this year. My oldest son will start umpping next year. As far as the amount of time goes, it does get to be a lot. At times I do look forward to rain. I’ve spent my time doing far worse things with far worse people. You may play darts, pool, race cars, golf, jet ski, or whatever other activity that you enjoy. I choose to play softball. I choose to get paid (umpire) for being around the game I love. I choose to take as much from the game as I can and use those lessons in my everyday life. While I respect those rec players out there, I urge them to try and get more from the game. The game of softball offers so much and it’s a shame that more don’t take advantage of it.

My summers are full of funny tan lines and long car drives. Long car drives are full of conversations of tournaments past. My summer is my bride in a chair with a mouthful of seeds and flip flops. My kids with wicked sunburns and dirty feet. My summer is shaking off the dry dirt on my sweaty socks. It’s about my hat shrinking in late June. It’s about playing catch with my kids before mine, or their game. My summer is about playing “2 bats” with 3 teammates in between games. It’s about staring aimlessly at the bracket trying to predict the future while telling people not to look too far ahead. It’s about going to the bathroom with a cup on. My summer is about watching my oldest do the coin flip before every game. It’s about my daughters hugging me after a tough loss. It’s about my bride on the fence cheering me on as I step to the plate. It’s about the “ooos” and “ahhs” as I stretch from my first base bag to dig out a ball. My summer is full of cheap hotel rooms. It’s full of sunshine and sunburn lotion. Long days and longer nights is what my summer is about. It’s about family, friends, and ball.

At some point I won’t physically be able to play the game. Some say I’ve already reached that point. At that point I will umpire only. Eventually I will reach the point of not being able to do that either. I hope that time is a few decades away. It’s inevitable though. I hope I’ve done a good enough job with my kids that they share the love of the game. I hope to be standing at the fence giving my kids pointers when I’m older and have more grays. I hope to see a last name on a jersey of a kid and say “Hey! Was your dad such and such” and be able to tell him stories of all the great things his dad did. I hope this gets into the hands of a player who realizes he or she is wasting their talents and get involved more. I hope that someone reads this and decides that umpiring isn’t all that bad and dons the powder blue. I hope that I can do the game of ASA softball justice.

I’m proud to slip my jersey/polo on every day. I’m proud of the things I’ve done on the field. I’m proud that my family is right there with me. I thank the game for giving me the things it has. I’m thankful to the umpires that have shared their knowledge with me. I’m thankful to the players for sharing all these experiences with me. I’m thankful to the game of ASA softball. My family thanks you all. How do you give back to a game that has given me so much? I’m not real sure to be honest, but I’ll spend each summer for as long as I possibly can trying to figure out that very answer.

Challenge Accepted!!

Sometime back I issued a challenge to the city of Watertown. I challenged the city to go to a basketball game. Not only was that challenge accepted, I feel like that night changed my life forever. In a small gym packed with around 800+ people, I believe I found my spirituality and faith. I know for certain my faith in humanity was restored.

For those of you not familiar with the challenge, allow me to summarize. Around the end of January I received an email from a friend of mine. He asked me to write about how Great Plains Lutheran, or GPL, didn’t get any fan support from the local community. Not knowing much about the school, I went to a couple practices, watched a few games, talked to people, asked a few questions, & finally put words to screen.

The first GPL game I attended had roughly 30 people there. There was something different about those 30 people though. My friend who asked me to write the post said to me “You won’t sit by yourself long. Someone will come and sit next to you and start visiting”. Sure enough, I wasn’t “alone” long before I was sitting with a group of people. They made me feel welcomed. They were honestly happy that I was at their basketball game. I knew within minutes that I belonged there with these incredibly genuine people. I regress though.

So, the challenge was issued on February 2nd with the game being February 13th. I posted the challenge to my blog around 11:30 am. By 5:00 pm, it had been shared on the Facebook over 600 times. It had surpassed 3,000 views within hours. The GPL community, and the local area seemed to band together to support the kids. The days leading up to the game were nerve wracking for me. The anticipation of not knowing if 1 extra person would show up or 100 was agonizing for me. Expectations were high and I didn’t want to let those kids down.

Game day arrives. I get to the gym around 4:30 to a familiar scene. A basketball game in the middle and students, parents, and staff walking around watching it. It’s early though. I walked around with the varsity boys coach as he gave me a tour of the facility. He told me his future plans for his program, how he admired his players, and how he wanted the absolute best for his players. The sense of pride radiates off him when he’s talking about his players. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting some of them, he’s blessed to work with them. They’re a special group.

As I sit on the bleacher wearing my button up shirt, dress pants, and loafers, I’m feeling nervous as more and more people start showing up. I’m also feeling a little overdressed to be at a basketball game. Luckily a group of GPL basketball kids had my back. A group of 5 or 6 approached me with a bag, handshakes, smiles, kind words, and a heart filled action. They all thanked me for the post and then handed me my very own Great Plains Lutheran Panther sweatshirt! It took everything I had not to tear up. The gesture was selfless and shows the character of these kids. I called my bride and told her what had just happened. My voice cracked as the words spilled out of my mouth. That was such a special moment for me. It still resonates with me as I think back on it. Those few minutes I sat there with that group of young men, will be a memory that will be with me forever. Truth is, I should be thanking them. During my visits with that school and those kids, they helped me on a spiritual journey that got me on a path I’d never thought I’d take. They enlightened me to a whole new world and I’m forever grateful.

The girls varsity game is about to start. I’m sitting with my favorite people; my bride and all four of my children. My in laws came to watch as well. Apparently people are having to park roughly a mile away due to the parking lot being full. There are Watertown police officers outside directing traffic and parking. People are filling in, crowding the concourse area. Glasses are fogged over while rosy cheeks are prominent around the gym as the frozen weather made the trek inside difficult. Both sides of the gym are packed. Gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. What happened next proved to me that hockey players aren’t so “tough”

As I glance around the gym and watch the atmosphere turn from quiet to somewhat rowdy, I’m reminded by the power of good will. As much as we complain about this or that, there is still kind hearted people out there. People who put your wants or needs in front of their own. People like the Watertown Laker hockey team. I’m focused in on the game as my beautiful bride nudges me and says “look”. I glance over and see black jackets and yellow hats. I had challenged the Watertown Laker hockey players to come support the GPL kids and they accepted in a BIG way!! I made my way through a gaggle of hockey kids, shaking hands and thanking them. I run across one whom I’ve only known for a short time and he picks me up, gives me a big hug, and smiles at me as he puts me down and shakes my hand. I thank the coach and go back to my seat. A break in the game allows the Lakers to travel from one end of the gym to the other where their seats are. A man at the top of the bleachers yells out “Go Lakers! Yay Lakers!!” The entire gym erupts with a standing ovation. The coach sacrificed ice time to come support the GPL kids. Pretty special moment.

As the night progressed I felt a sense of pride. I knew my life had just changed. I was proud because I was smart enough to realize that I was around something special. Not only was I around a group of kids, parents, and staff that would give me direction to a newfound faith, I was around the community of Watertown. The Watertown community took action and made that night about someone else. They left their excuses at the door of their homes. “it’s too cold” “I have to work early” “I’m 6 months pregnant :)” or “I’ve had a long day” were excuses I didn’t hear. The good of the community shined that night. It shined on a group of kids who deserve it.

4 basketball games were played that night. According to the scoreboard there was a winner and a “loser”. I feel like anyone who was there that night was a winner. We all got to experience great basketball and phenomenal kids. Personally, the night is up there in “Sam’s favorite days of all time”. Those kids and that gym is where my journey to find my faith officially begun. Funny how a 33 year old man can learn so much from 14-18 year old kids.

Tucked away behind some trees on 14th ave is a little school called Great Plains Lutheran. Inside you’ll find kids and staff with unquestioned character and kindness. I decided to accept a challenge from a friend and it changed my life. The community of Watertown decided to accept a challenge from some weirdo writing some silly blog and it gave those kids a night they won’t forget.

For those of you that showed up that night, I thank you. For those of you that thought about showing up but didn’t, I thank you. For those of you that read “A challenge to to the city of Watertown”, I thank you. To the head coach of the GPL boys varsity team, I thank you. To the Watertown Laker hockey team, I thank you. To the kids at GPL, I thank you. To the community, I thank you. Thank you for being part of these kids lives. For giving them that one night that they can forever hold onto. Thank you for showing me that the our community is amazing. I’m humbled by everyone who was, and is involved.

I issued a challenge and it was accepted in a big, BIG way. Never did I think my faith would be restored by my community. Never did I think a basketball program would bring me to church. At times I go to my closet and I rifle through my shirts. I pass on this one, that one is too “something”. I grab one and put it on and think “Nah, I don’t want this one”. I snatch another and lay it on the bed and glance over it thinking that’s the one. Turns out I never really did feel comfortable in that shirt. After countless tries I run across my GPL sweatshirt. I take it off the hanger and put it on and as the the cloth rubs against my face, I feel a smile coming on. This one fits perfect. This one I feel comfortable with. This is the one I can face my day with. Funny how a “sweatshirt” can make you feel that way.