Well, my Spartans did it again, winning our game over the weekend against the (previously) undefeated defending national champions; in Columbus, no less. The Las Vegas types had installed us as 14-point underdogs, which, considering that we were ranked in the Top Ten going into the game, was a pretty stunning spread. Suffice it to say, we weren't widely expected to win.
But win we did. The final score was 17-14 in our favor, and we didn't actually hold the lead until the field goal that won the game on the final play. But honestly, we fairly dominated the game, pretty much from start to finish. If we hadn't turned the ball over twice, they might not have scored at all.
[As an aside, I didn't get to actually watch much of the game; 7M's high school team was playing in the state semi-finals an hour's drive from OurTown (or, it would normally be an hour's drive; in five inches of snow, it became more like two, at least on the homeward leg), and Jenn and I went to watch that. Alas, they lost; their game was closer and more competitive than the final score would indicate, but our kids just made too many mistakes against a really good team (memo to the opposing coach - when you're ahead by 22 with 3 minutes to play, and you run a trick play to score again, that's. . . how shall I say it? . . . a real no-class move; I'd like to use more, um, colorful language, but you know, just sayin').]
So we only got to see the 4th quarter of the Spartan game on TV. And I was just stunned to see our offensive line getting a 2-yard push on virtually every snap. You're not supposed to be able to do that to the mighty Buckeyes, but there it was.
Since Urban Meyer has been the Ohio State coach, his Buckeyes have lost exactly two conference games - two years ago in the league championship game, to my Spartans, and now this past weekend, their first regular-season loss in the Big Ten under coach Meyer (over nearly four full seasons!), again to my Spartans. Memo to the other twelve teams in the Big Ten - come on, you guys, somebody besides us has to figure out how to beat these guys. . .
So now, possibilities open up for us, just a bit. If we win our game next Saturday, we'll be Big Ten East Division champs, and then we'll play Iowa for the overall league championship. If we win that, we stand a decent chance of getting an invite to the 4-team national championship playoff (and if we hadn't sleep-walked our way to a loss at Nebraska, it would be more than merely a 'decent' chance; *sigh*). So, woo-hoo!, and all that. . .
And then there's this fascinating little tidbit from our two big rivalry-game wins this season - we beat both Michigan and Ohio State, and in those two games combined, the total amount of time that my Spartans were actually in the lead was - exactly zero. We never led either game, until the winning points were scored on the final play of the game. . .
Showing posts with label 7M. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 7M. Show all posts
Monday, November 23, 2015
Sunday, November 30, 2014
So Close. . .
Alas. . .
7M's football team lost a heart-breaker in the Division 5 State Championship game at the big domed stadium in Detroit, to the defending state champs. The final score was 24-20, and we can take some small comfort from the fact that it was one of the more intense, competitive, exciting games of the championship weekend (Michigan crowns 8 state champions, in divisions according to enrollment). . .
Our guys started off slowly, making uncharacteristic mistakes (it's possible they were in awe, or at least a bit jittery, at the whole ambiance of the dome, and the championship stakes), and fell behind 17-0 by the middle of the second quarter. They scored a touchdown just before halftime to make it 17-6 at the half (and those of us who keep track of such things were looking at each other saying, "hey, it's closer than it was in the semis". . .).
In the second half, the defense stiffened, and the offense started to find its rhythm. In the third quarter, we mounted a 96-yard drive to a touchdown, making the score 17-13. The defense stopped the opposing offense, and then the offense went back to work, starting again at our own 4-yard line. They marched up the field and scored the go-ahead touchdown, making the score 20-17 in our favor with just over 7 minutes left in the game (it turns out that that was the first time all year that our opponents had been behind after halftime).
But of course, our opponents didn't become the undefeated defending state champions by going away quietly when things get difficult. They began a slow, painstaking, 17-play drive, converting on fourth down three times, scoring the winning touchdown with a minute left in the game. Hats off to them.
I'm sure that both teams tested each other as severely as either of them had been tested all season. (Cliche alert!) It's just a shame that one of them had to lose (and all the moreso that the loser had to be us). Honestly (Cliche alert, redux) it was a great game, if you didn't care who won (but alas, I did. . .)
7M played a good game. He made a couple tackles (and got his name called over the PA at Ford Field!), and generally contributed to the success of our defense. And he was inconsolable at the final result (as were his teammates and coaches). I'm sure, at some point, they'll all gain some perspective on the privilege they had of just playing in such a game, and taking the champions to the limit of their ability, but for now, getting so close and coming up empty feels maddeningly cruel.
7M is a junior, as are the majority of the starters on the team, so they'll have another opportunity next year. I told 7M after the game that, starting now, he's one of the senior leaders on next year's team, and if they want to go back again and win, it will take even more hard work than what they put in to get so close this year. Nothing whatsoever is guaranteed them; they'll have to earn their spot all over again, and it'll be no easier next year. But they're in a position, having been there once, to understand what it takes. We will see what we will see. . .
But it has been a heck of a ride this time through. I'd love to do it again. . .
-------------------------
I was given a gratuitous gift of temperatures in the 50s this afternoon, so I went out on my bike for 21 miles. Combined with the 13 I did on Thanksgiving morning (which was cold, but clear and dry), I'm at 1036 for the year (and 160 for the month of November). Of course, any December miles are a gift, but as the eminently quotable Yogi Berra once said, it ain't over until it's over. . .
7M's football team lost a heart-breaker in the Division 5 State Championship game at the big domed stadium in Detroit, to the defending state champs. The final score was 24-20, and we can take some small comfort from the fact that it was one of the more intense, competitive, exciting games of the championship weekend (Michigan crowns 8 state champions, in divisions according to enrollment). . .
Our guys started off slowly, making uncharacteristic mistakes (it's possible they were in awe, or at least a bit jittery, at the whole ambiance of the dome, and the championship stakes), and fell behind 17-0 by the middle of the second quarter. They scored a touchdown just before halftime to make it 17-6 at the half (and those of us who keep track of such things were looking at each other saying, "hey, it's closer than it was in the semis". . .).
In the second half, the defense stiffened, and the offense started to find its rhythm. In the third quarter, we mounted a 96-yard drive to a touchdown, making the score 17-13. The defense stopped the opposing offense, and then the offense went back to work, starting again at our own 4-yard line. They marched up the field and scored the go-ahead touchdown, making the score 20-17 in our favor with just over 7 minutes left in the game (it turns out that that was the first time all year that our opponents had been behind after halftime).
But of course, our opponents didn't become the undefeated defending state champions by going away quietly when things get difficult. They began a slow, painstaking, 17-play drive, converting on fourth down three times, scoring the winning touchdown with a minute left in the game. Hats off to them.
I'm sure that both teams tested each other as severely as either of them had been tested all season. (Cliche alert!) It's just a shame that one of them had to lose (and all the moreso that the loser had to be us). Honestly (Cliche alert, redux) it was a great game, if you didn't care who won (but alas, I did. . .)
7M played a good game. He made a couple tackles (and got his name called over the PA at Ford Field!), and generally contributed to the success of our defense. And he was inconsolable at the final result (as were his teammates and coaches). I'm sure, at some point, they'll all gain some perspective on the privilege they had of just playing in such a game, and taking the champions to the limit of their ability, but for now, getting so close and coming up empty feels maddeningly cruel.
7M is a junior, as are the majority of the starters on the team, so they'll have another opportunity next year. I told 7M after the game that, starting now, he's one of the senior leaders on next year's team, and if they want to go back again and win, it will take even more hard work than what they put in to get so close this year. Nothing whatsoever is guaranteed them; they'll have to earn their spot all over again, and it'll be no easier next year. But they're in a position, having been there once, to understand what it takes. We will see what we will see. . .
But it has been a heck of a ride this time through. I'd love to do it again. . .
-------------------------
I was given a gratuitous gift of temperatures in the 50s this afternoon, so I went out on my bike for 21 miles. Combined with the 13 I did on Thanksgiving morning (which was cold, but clear and dry), I'm at 1036 for the year (and 160 for the month of November). Of course, any December miles are a gift, but as the eminently quotable Yogi Berra once said, it ain't over until it's over. . .
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Gooooooooooooal!
(with apologies to Andres Cantor)
As if there weren't enough going on in our life. . .
-------------------------
This afternoon, I was the beneficiary of a completely gratuitous harmonic convergence ofwarm non-frigid temperatures, dry ice-free roads, no hardly any rain, and no other commitments on my schedule for just long enough to get in a 17-mile bike ride, bringing my total for the year to 1002 miles. At last! It wasn't all that long ago that I was pretty dubious as to whether four-digit miles was even possible. But I made it. A little good news, and a nice dose of endorphins, are much appreciated just now. . .
And of course, the year still has five or six more weeks to run, so we'll see if the tally runs any higher, or not. But at least my 'basic goal' is securely in the books. . .
-------------------------
7M's football team played in the state semi-finals yesterday evening. The team they played had been winning their games by the same kind of lop-sided scores we've been, and they were clearly the best team we've seen all season. Things didn't start out so well for our kids; they trailed, 14-0 at halftime, and looked flustered and out-of-sync. But something clicked in the halftime locker room. They received the second-half kickoff, and drove the field for a touchdown, cutting the deficit to 14-7. Their opponent took the ensuing kickoff and drove down to our 10-yard line. They tried to run a Statue-of-Liberty play, but fumbled, and our kids recovered. Another 90-yard drive, and the score was tied, 14-14. Our defense held, and then the offense drove to another touchdown, with just over three minutes left in the game. The defense held again, and then the offense ran out the clock, with the final score 21-14 in our favor.
It was an incredible game to watch, even if you didn't care who won. The fact that my son was playing for the winning team made it even better. It was good for them to realize that they could dig deep and win a game that hung very much in the balance right to the end. They haven't had many of those this year.
So now, they get to play for the state championship at Ford Field in Detroit next Saturday afternoon. What a thrill for these kids! The team we're playing is the defending state champion, so they won't be overawed by their surroundings, and they won't be intimidated. As hard as the semi-final was to win, the final will surely be even harder. But, what a run! What a great ride!
As if there weren't enough going on in our life. . .
-------------------------
This afternoon, I was the beneficiary of a completely gratuitous harmonic convergence of
And of course, the year still has five or six more weeks to run, so we'll see if the tally runs any higher, or not. But at least my 'basic goal' is securely in the books. . .
-------------------------
7M's football team played in the state semi-finals yesterday evening. The team they played had been winning their games by the same kind of lop-sided scores we've been, and they were clearly the best team we've seen all season. Things didn't start out so well for our kids; they trailed, 14-0 at halftime, and looked flustered and out-of-sync. But something clicked in the halftime locker room. They received the second-half kickoff, and drove the field for a touchdown, cutting the deficit to 14-7. Their opponent took the ensuing kickoff and drove down to our 10-yard line. They tried to run a Statue-of-Liberty play, but fumbled, and our kids recovered. Another 90-yard drive, and the score was tied, 14-14. Our defense held, and then the offense drove to another touchdown, with just over three minutes left in the game. The defense held again, and then the offense ran out the clock, with the final score 21-14 in our favor.
It was an incredible game to watch, even if you didn't care who won. The fact that my son was playing for the winning team made it even better. It was good for them to realize that they could dig deep and win a game that hung very much in the balance right to the end. They haven't had many of those this year.
So now, they get to play for the state championship at Ford Field in Detroit next Saturday afternoon. What a thrill for these kids! The team we're playing is the defending state champion, so they won't be overawed by their surroundings, and they won't be intimidated. As hard as the semi-final was to win, the final will surely be even harder. But, what a run! What a great ride!
(7M is number 33, just right of center)
Sunday, November 2, 2014
My Fans - Both of Them
I don't know that I've brought it up here before now, but a couple years ago, Jenn and I made the momentous decision to go off-the-grid, credit-wise. Our credit card debt had hit an unmanageable level, so we just said the hell with it, cut up our cards, and set about running a zero-balance budget (including paying off the debt we had accumulated; we may be foolish, but we're not deadbeats).
The financial-types we consulted before taking this momentous step told us that first, and fundamentally, we needed to set up an 'emergency fund' of at least $1000, for things like repairs that come up, so we did that. And almost immediately, the circus began. Our washing machine went toes-up. Cha-ching. Tap the emergency fund, and then refill it. Then our dishwasher died. Cha-ching. Tap the emergency fund again, and refill it. My car got totalled, so we had to go back to the credit well to buy a not-too-heavily-used replacement, which put a fresh strain on the cash-flow, until the profit-sharing check came through. And then the replacement car got rear-ended on a snowy/icy day. I was nearly in a panic for a couple days, until it became clear that the damage to my car was merely cosmetic, and it was still fully drive-able. Then Jenn's car woke up one day and discovered that it had nearly 200,000 miles on its odometer, and decided to call it a life. So we scrapped out her car, and bought 4M's car from him, when he moved to Seattle.
By that point, we were starting to get creative about covering our bases. One of the kids left the fridge door ajar overnight, and by the following morning, it was sitting silently, the motor no longer running, the milk starting to get warm. So we moved everything to the 'reserve' fridge in the basement (which wasn't quite big enough to hold everything that had been in the 'main' fridge, so some stuff took up temporary lodging in the neighbors' fridge), and started making plans for how we were going to procure a new fridge with what was left of our emergency fund. After a couple days, though, the main fridge had a change of heart, or caught its breath, or something, and began making happy electrical fridge-noises again, and making the inside of the box cold again, so we moved the food back upstairs, grateful for the reprieve (we didn't fully trust that the fridge had been 'healed', and we fully expected it to give up at some not-too-distant future time, but at least we could make use of the delay to refill the emergency fund once again; that was about a year ago, and the fridge is still running fine today, so thanks be to God).
We've had relatively few appliance-crises for that past several months (I hesitate to mention that the dryer and the stove have held strong, lest they hear me, and decide to join in the fun). We live with a degree of low-grade dread that one of the kids will stick a tin can in the microwave, and when I discovered 7M downloading 'free' music onto the computer, I had an, uh. . . over-reaction (that's what he called it; seemed perfectly reasonable to me. . .). But the emergency fund has been in decent health, all things considered, and we're mostly able to anticipate and plan for things like putting new tires on two cars, and straightening 8M's teeth (not, alas, as optional as I wish it were; if you saw his teeth, you'd understand), and stuff like that.
So a couple weeks ago, just as the weather (back to talking about the weather again. . .) was transitioning from air-conditioning season to furnace-season, we flipped the thermostat switch from cooling to heating the first day when the overnight low dropped below 50F. We were sitting in our living room that evening, and heard the comforting electric hum that signaled that the blower-motor was coming on. Only the hum continued for several seconds, instead of giving way to the 'whoosh' of the fan blowing warm air through the house, and then it quit. No rush of warmth. A few minutes later, it tried again, and again we heard the extended electric-motor hum as it tried to come on and failed. Crud. Jenn looked at me and asked how the emergency fund was doing. Okay, I said, but a furnace repair might just about kill it. We called a friend of ours who knows a little bit about furnaces, and he came over and poked around for a few minutes before telling us, "I think your blower motor's fritzed." Double crud.
So the next day, Jenn called the furnace-repair guy, and he came, and gave a quote north of $600, which was just higher than the current contents of the emergency fund. So she told him we'd get back to him, once we figured out how to pay him. Later that same day, our friend who had looked at the furnace came by with a page he'd printed from an on-line home-repair site, offering the motor we needed for just less than $200. "If you can buy this motor," he said, "I know a guy who'll install it for $100." Sold!
So all told, we were without heat in our house for about two weeks. The house was chillier than we'd prefer, especially at night (into the 50s, which is about what we set the overnight thermostat for in the winter), but still very livable; Jenn just snuggled closer to me in bed, so, you know, win-win.
Somewhere in those two weeks without a furnace-fan, I got into my car and turned the key. The engine fired up, but something seemed odd. There was no fan-noise. I checked; the fan knob was in the 'high' position. I turned it off and back on; nothing. It was a weekend, so I was just driving across town, but still, the windshield was starting to fog up. So I cracked the window open, and drove around that way, just so I could see the road ahead of me. I was getting annoyed by all the niggling little repairs that were starting to pile up again, and noting the irony that both my house and my car were suffering from fans that wouldn't blow the warm air. The air was there, and it was warm, but the fan wouldn't send it where it needed to be.
The next day, when I had a few minutes to think it through, I thought that I should at least check the fuse box before I committed myself to replacing the fan motor. I pulled the cover off and figured out from the schematic which fuse was for the fan motor. I tried to pull it out to look at it, but it was in too tightly, so I pushed it back in, and prepared to find a pair of pliers with which to pull it out. I had the keys in the ignition so I could listen to the Spartan football game on the radio, and when I pushed the fuse back in. . . the fan came on. So it was just a loose connection. For a couple days, I would start the car, and the fan wouldn't come on, so I would go into the fuse box and give a push to the fan fuse, and all would be well. After that, the fuse, apparently realizing that I was onto his game, just said the hell with it, and stayed engaged. I've had to give it a shove a couple more times in the past couple weeks, but nothing too terribly onerous. Even if I had to push the fuse in every time I start the car, that wouldn't be too terrible. I suppose that, in the fullness of time, I'll have to give a closer look, and maybe replace the fuse box, but that time is not yet.
And the emergency fund is on its way back to wholeness. Again.
-------------------------
In other news, 7M's football team played their first playoff game Friday night last. 7M was, how shall I say it - geeked. I don't know if he got any actual sleep the night before. It seems that the team managed to channel their collective nervous energy in mostly constructive ways, pulling out a 61-0 victory. The first round of the playoffs can be like that, as schools of similar size, that play vastly different levels of competition during the regular season, end up bracketed together. Next week's opponent will no doubt be tougher.
The weather for the game was, um. . . brutal. Around 40F, with a 20-mph north wind. It was actually snowing just before kickoff, although it didn't snow (or rain) during the game itself. Even so, it was merciful to the fans, as well as the losing team, that the second half was played with a running clock.
That nasty weather kept me indoors and off my bike yesterday. Today promises to be sunny and a bit warmer, with less-than-gale-force winds, so perhaps I can get a few miles in this afternoon. Onward and upward. . .
The financial-types we consulted before taking this momentous step told us that first, and fundamentally, we needed to set up an 'emergency fund' of at least $1000, for things like repairs that come up, so we did that. And almost immediately, the circus began. Our washing machine went toes-up. Cha-ching. Tap the emergency fund, and then refill it. Then our dishwasher died. Cha-ching. Tap the emergency fund again, and refill it. My car got totalled, so we had to go back to the credit well to buy a not-too-heavily-used replacement, which put a fresh strain on the cash-flow, until the profit-sharing check came through. And then the replacement car got rear-ended on a snowy/icy day. I was nearly in a panic for a couple days, until it became clear that the damage to my car was merely cosmetic, and it was still fully drive-able. Then Jenn's car woke up one day and discovered that it had nearly 200,000 miles on its odometer, and decided to call it a life. So we scrapped out her car, and bought 4M's car from him, when he moved to Seattle.
By that point, we were starting to get creative about covering our bases. One of the kids left the fridge door ajar overnight, and by the following morning, it was sitting silently, the motor no longer running, the milk starting to get warm. So we moved everything to the 'reserve' fridge in the basement (which wasn't quite big enough to hold everything that had been in the 'main' fridge, so some stuff took up temporary lodging in the neighbors' fridge), and started making plans for how we were going to procure a new fridge with what was left of our emergency fund. After a couple days, though, the main fridge had a change of heart, or caught its breath, or something, and began making happy electrical fridge-noises again, and making the inside of the box cold again, so we moved the food back upstairs, grateful for the reprieve (we didn't fully trust that the fridge had been 'healed', and we fully expected it to give up at some not-too-distant future time, but at least we could make use of the delay to refill the emergency fund once again; that was about a year ago, and the fridge is still running fine today, so thanks be to God).
We've had relatively few appliance-crises for that past several months (I hesitate to mention that the dryer and the stove have held strong, lest they hear me, and decide to join in the fun). We live with a degree of low-grade dread that one of the kids will stick a tin can in the microwave, and when I discovered 7M downloading 'free' music onto the computer, I had an, uh. . . over-reaction (that's what he called it; seemed perfectly reasonable to me. . .). But the emergency fund has been in decent health, all things considered, and we're mostly able to anticipate and plan for things like putting new tires on two cars, and straightening 8M's teeth (not, alas, as optional as I wish it were; if you saw his teeth, you'd understand), and stuff like that.
So a couple weeks ago, just as the weather (back to talking about the weather again. . .) was transitioning from air-conditioning season to furnace-season, we flipped the thermostat switch from cooling to heating the first day when the overnight low dropped below 50F. We were sitting in our living room that evening, and heard the comforting electric hum that signaled that the blower-motor was coming on. Only the hum continued for several seconds, instead of giving way to the 'whoosh' of the fan blowing warm air through the house, and then it quit. No rush of warmth. A few minutes later, it tried again, and again we heard the extended electric-motor hum as it tried to come on and failed. Crud. Jenn looked at me and asked how the emergency fund was doing. Okay, I said, but a furnace repair might just about kill it. We called a friend of ours who knows a little bit about furnaces, and he came over and poked around for a few minutes before telling us, "I think your blower motor's fritzed." Double crud.
So the next day, Jenn called the furnace-repair guy, and he came, and gave a quote north of $600, which was just higher than the current contents of the emergency fund. So she told him we'd get back to him, once we figured out how to pay him. Later that same day, our friend who had looked at the furnace came by with a page he'd printed from an on-line home-repair site, offering the motor we needed for just less than $200. "If you can buy this motor," he said, "I know a guy who'll install it for $100." Sold!
So all told, we were without heat in our house for about two weeks. The house was chillier than we'd prefer, especially at night (into the 50s, which is about what we set the overnight thermostat for in the winter), but still very livable; Jenn just snuggled closer to me in bed, so, you know, win-win.
Somewhere in those two weeks without a furnace-fan, I got into my car and turned the key. The engine fired up, but something seemed odd. There was no fan-noise. I checked; the fan knob was in the 'high' position. I turned it off and back on; nothing. It was a weekend, so I was just driving across town, but still, the windshield was starting to fog up. So I cracked the window open, and drove around that way, just so I could see the road ahead of me. I was getting annoyed by all the niggling little repairs that were starting to pile up again, and noting the irony that both my house and my car were suffering from fans that wouldn't blow the warm air. The air was there, and it was warm, but the fan wouldn't send it where it needed to be.
The next day, when I had a few minutes to think it through, I thought that I should at least check the fuse box before I committed myself to replacing the fan motor. I pulled the cover off and figured out from the schematic which fuse was for the fan motor. I tried to pull it out to look at it, but it was in too tightly, so I pushed it back in, and prepared to find a pair of pliers with which to pull it out. I had the keys in the ignition so I could listen to the Spartan football game on the radio, and when I pushed the fuse back in. . . the fan came on. So it was just a loose connection. For a couple days, I would start the car, and the fan wouldn't come on, so I would go into the fuse box and give a push to the fan fuse, and all would be well. After that, the fuse, apparently realizing that I was onto his game, just said the hell with it, and stayed engaged. I've had to give it a shove a couple more times in the past couple weeks, but nothing too terribly onerous. Even if I had to push the fuse in every time I start the car, that wouldn't be too terrible. I suppose that, in the fullness of time, I'll have to give a closer look, and maybe replace the fuse box, but that time is not yet.
And the emergency fund is on its way back to wholeness. Again.
-------------------------
In other news, 7M's football team played their first playoff game Friday night last. 7M was, how shall I say it - geeked. I don't know if he got any actual sleep the night before. It seems that the team managed to channel their collective nervous energy in mostly constructive ways, pulling out a 61-0 victory. The first round of the playoffs can be like that, as schools of similar size, that play vastly different levels of competition during the regular season, end up bracketed together. Next week's opponent will no doubt be tougher.
The weather for the game was, um. . . brutal. Around 40F, with a 20-mph north wind. It was actually snowing just before kickoff, although it didn't snow (or rain) during the game itself. Even so, it was merciful to the fans, as well as the losing team, that the second half was played with a running clock.
That nasty weather kept me indoors and off my bike yesterday. Today promises to be sunny and a bit warmer, with less-than-gale-force winds, so perhaps I can get a few miles in this afternoon. Onward and upward. . .
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Are You Ready for Some Football?
I don't usually post a whole lot about football around these parts, although in recent years, my Spartans have inspired me to wax rhapsodical from time to time. But this weekend was a kind of football-ish harmonic convergence around here. You would be very kind to indulge me. . .
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7M is a high-school junior, and a linebacker for his school's football team. He's pretty darn good (if I may say so myself), and is usually among the leading tacklers for his team. It never gets old, hearing your son's name called over the PA, I tell you.
His team has had a really good season so far, going undefeated, winning their league championship, and qualifying for the state playoffs, besides. This Friday night past, they played another undefeated, highly-ranked team, and won, 27-22. It was the only game all year that they won by less than 30 points. It was actually kinda fun to watch a game that wasn't played with a running clock for most of the second half. . .
The team is sufficiently highly ranked that it wouldn't be a surprise for them to be playing in the domed stadium in Detroit over Thanksgiving weekend (ie, for the state championship). There being four rounds of games to win before that comes to pass, I'll stop short of counting any unhatched chickens. But it's been a fun ride so far. . .
-------------------------
8M played football for the first time in his life this fall. He hasn't been as athletically-inclined as his brothers, and I'm fine with that; he sure doesn't have to have athletic success in order to please me. He has his own really unique personality, and his own set of unique skills and proclivities that make him a really interesting and fun person in his own very estimable right; we're glad to have him in our family, no matter how stunned we were to find ourselves expecting our eighth child deep into our 40s, all those years ago. . .
Anyway, it's been a lot of fun, watching him learn to play the game, progressing from "Where am I? What am I supposed to be doing? I have no clue. . ." to understanding his assignments, and making plays. Last week, he got his name called over the PA for the first time (he made a tackle), and in today's game, he actually carried the ball a couple times. Mind you, I'm not so much living vicariously through the success he's had (such as it is), as I am proud of him making the effort, and learning to do something that he started out utterly clueless of. Very cool. . .
-------------------------
And just for the sake of saying so, I have to mention the way my Spartans man-handled the hated Wolverines over the weekend, the sixth time we've beaten them in the last seven games. Truth to tell, I didn't think that the Spartans played all that well, certainly far short of their best. But even so, they dominated the blue-corn guys from start to finish. It's a sign of how strong our team is, I suppose, that they can dominate their rival while still not playing their best.
I'm still getting used to this whole rivalry-dominance thing. Our friends from down the road have had far more success against us, in my adult lifetime, than we've had against them (though we pretty much owned them in my childhood; just sayin'). I'm just glad (*shedding a small tear*) to have lived long enough to see the tables turned, at least for a while. . .
-------------------------
And then this morning, the Lions played the Sunday Brunch Special from Wembley Stadium in London. That's London, in the UK, not Ontario. Five time zones to the east of here. NFL marketing-types, gotta love 'em. . .
The Leos started out terrible, trailing 21-0 at halftime. But they turned the tables in the second half and ended up pulling out a 22-21 victory on a last-second field goal (some real bizarre doings in those final seconds, which I'll decline to discuss in detail, but it did make things, um interesting).
I'm not quite ready to start calling them "MY Lions" just yet (6-2 and leading the division has gone down in flames too often, too recently, for me to jump on the bandwagon quite this soon). But this could yet turn into one of the better years of my own personal memory. . .
-------------------------
So, lots of football this weekend, all the way from middle-school, to high school, to major-college, to the pros. And all of 'em went according to my own humble rooting interests, which was nice.
And the weather in these parts was spectacular this weekend - mid-60s, brilliant sunshine, cloudless azure skies. . . So I put another 32 miles on my bike, bringing me to 876 miles for the year. Barring any nasty weather wiping out entire weekends, I should just sneak past 1000 before the snow flies. But, we will see what we will see. . .
-------------------------
7M is a high-school junior, and a linebacker for his school's football team. He's pretty darn good (if I may say so myself), and is usually among the leading tacklers for his team. It never gets old, hearing your son's name called over the PA, I tell you.
His team has had a really good season so far, going undefeated, winning their league championship, and qualifying for the state playoffs, besides. This Friday night past, they played another undefeated, highly-ranked team, and won, 27-22. It was the only game all year that they won by less than 30 points. It was actually kinda fun to watch a game that wasn't played with a running clock for most of the second half. . .
The team is sufficiently highly ranked that it wouldn't be a surprise for them to be playing in the domed stadium in Detroit over Thanksgiving weekend (ie, for the state championship). There being four rounds of games to win before that comes to pass, I'll stop short of counting any unhatched chickens. But it's been a fun ride so far. . .
-------------------------
8M played football for the first time in his life this fall. He hasn't been as athletically-inclined as his brothers, and I'm fine with that; he sure doesn't have to have athletic success in order to please me. He has his own really unique personality, and his own set of unique skills and proclivities that make him a really interesting and fun person in his own very estimable right; we're glad to have him in our family, no matter how stunned we were to find ourselves expecting our eighth child deep into our 40s, all those years ago. . .
Anyway, it's been a lot of fun, watching him learn to play the game, progressing from "Where am I? What am I supposed to be doing? I have no clue. . ." to understanding his assignments, and making plays. Last week, he got his name called over the PA for the first time (he made a tackle), and in today's game, he actually carried the ball a couple times. Mind you, I'm not so much living vicariously through the success he's had (such as it is), as I am proud of him making the effort, and learning to do something that he started out utterly clueless of. Very cool. . .
-------------------------
And just for the sake of saying so, I have to mention the way my Spartans man-handled the hated Wolverines over the weekend, the sixth time we've beaten them in the last seven games. Truth to tell, I didn't think that the Spartans played all that well, certainly far short of their best. But even so, they dominated the blue-corn guys from start to finish. It's a sign of how strong our team is, I suppose, that they can dominate their rival while still not playing their best.
I'm still getting used to this whole rivalry-dominance thing. Our friends from down the road have had far more success against us, in my adult lifetime, than we've had against them (though we pretty much owned them in my childhood; just sayin'). I'm just glad (*shedding a small tear*) to have lived long enough to see the tables turned, at least for a while. . .
-------------------------
And then this morning, the Lions played the Sunday Brunch Special from Wembley Stadium in London. That's London, in the UK, not Ontario. Five time zones to the east of here. NFL marketing-types, gotta love 'em. . .
The Leos started out terrible, trailing 21-0 at halftime. But they turned the tables in the second half and ended up pulling out a 22-21 victory on a last-second field goal (some real bizarre doings in those final seconds, which I'll decline to discuss in detail, but it did make things, um interesting).
I'm not quite ready to start calling them "MY Lions" just yet (6-2 and leading the division has gone down in flames too often, too recently, for me to jump on the bandwagon quite this soon). But this could yet turn into one of the better years of my own personal memory. . .
-------------------------
So, lots of football this weekend, all the way from middle-school, to high school, to major-college, to the pros. And all of 'em went according to my own humble rooting interests, which was nice.
And the weather in these parts was spectacular this weekend - mid-60s, brilliant sunshine, cloudless azure skies. . . So I put another 32 miles on my bike, bringing me to 876 miles for the year. Barring any nasty weather wiping out entire weekends, I should just sneak past 1000 before the snow flies. But, we will see what we will see. . .
Monday, September 24, 2012
Don't Tread On Me
This is a re-post of a story from my old blog, edited as appropriate. My readership has changed pretty significantly since I first posted it six years ago, and many of you might not be aware of this episode from our life. So, in the interest of bringing you all up to speed, and testifying to God's goodness and mercy, I offer it to you again. . .
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Thirteen years ago today, I was sitting in my office at work, deeply dialed-in to whatever was on my computer screen at the time, when the phone rang. It was a friend of ours. "7M has had an accident," she said. My mind raced as she explained that he was in intensive care; I don't remember the rest of what she said. I left work and drove to the hospital, a 45-minute drive, during which I could only wonder what I'd find when I got there, or if my son was even alive.
7M was a year-and-a-half old at the time. He and some neighbor kids were playing in our front yard that afternoon. At one point, 7M was standing behind the neighbor's minivan; the neighbor came out, got into his car and backed out - right over my toddler son. The neighbor across the street saw it happen and called the ambulance immediately. 5M, who was seven at the time, might have saved 7M's life by getting the driver's attention and getting him to stop. Jen was inside the house talking with a friend who had dropped in, when one of the kids ran in and told her what had happened. At first, she didn't believe them, but her friend said, um, why don't you go out and see what's going on. The ambulance arrived within a minute or two, and then things were a blur.
By the time I arrived at the hospital, his situation was diagnosed - he had a bunch of cuts and bruises (including a detailed tire-tread-pattern bruise that ran from his thigh, all the way up his torso, and across his cheek; looking back, it was really pretty spectacular), a broken collarbone, three non-displaced skull fractures (if you absolutely have to have a broken skull, non-displaced is definitely the way to go), and bruised lungs. His eyes had no 'whites', if one was inclined to be persnickety about color; they were more like 'bright reds'. The bruised lungs were actually the biggest concern of the ER docs (I guess if you have trouble breathing, things get bad very quickly). They had him hooked up to a machine that monitored his breathing. By the time I arrived at the hospital, his breathing was good, but they wanted to monitor him for 24-48 hours. At that point, every minute that passed with him breathing well was a good minute, so we just waited for the 'good minutes' to keep accumulating. After 24 hours, they moved him to a less-intensive section of the ICU (if that even makes sense), and the next day, they released him, because all they were doing was chasing him around the ICU, and chasing toddlers is not what ICUs (even pediatric ICUs) are set up to do. Our boy had a clean bill of health 48 hours after being run over by a minivan (well, except for the broken-bones-and-bruises thing).
When we tried to figure out how this could have happened, the doctor said that his young age actually was in his favor, because kids that age are very flexible - their bones aren't brittle, so they've got more 'give' to them, and they don't break as severely as older folks' do. Also, the fact that the vehicle was a minivan (comparatively little weight over the rear axle), and only the rear axle ran over him, was probably fortunate, as well as the gravel driveway (the gravel had some 'give' to it that a concrete driveway wouldn't have). Even so - the back tire of the minivan ran directly OVER HIS HEAD. I couldn't have imagined that that would be survivable, much less survivable with no apparent effects. And yet, today, we have a completely normal, healthy fourteen-year-old. To be perfectly candid, he's an above-average athlete, and notably brighter than most of his peers (not that I'd want my other kids to get their heads run over, to make them smarter, or anything).
I try to be slow about making claims of miracles, but 7M being run over by a car without any discernible lasting effects, is about the most amazing thing I've seen in my life. We've told 7M that he'd better pay attention and be good, because God did something pretty amazing for him to be alive today. . .
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Let's Play Four. . .
7M is a fairly talented baseball player, the latest installment in the line of my sons who have played with some decent level of skill. He played for a team this summer which was composed of 7th and 8th graders, Mostly 8th graders. The same group of 8th-grade boys, from various Catholic schools around Our Town, has been playing together since they were 9 or 10 years old. Last year, as 7th graders, they took their lumps, winning roughly half their games in a 7th-8th league. This year, they did much better, winning their league championship with only a single loss during their season. Such is the difference between being younger than most of the other teams, and being older.
7M was one of the better players on his team. He was one of the main pitchers, and batted either 3rd or 4th in the lineup all season. I don't know what his batting average was; in fact, I didn't get to see very many of his games, since my commute usually got me home late enough that his games were about half-over by the time I got back to Our Town. As the season wore on, I made more of an effort to catch such bits of his games as I could, since he really appreciated it whenever I could come. So, often as not, Jen would bring my supper to the ballgames, and I would eat it in the bleachers while I watched.
We developed an odd, and frustrating, pattern, wherein I would arrive at the game, and as I walked up to the ball field, the other parents would greet me with, "Oh, you just missed 7M's hit - he really crushed it!" Then, when he came to bat again, he would get walked, or hit by a pitch, or some other less-dramatic thing than The One I Didn't See.
(*sigh*) Alas. . .
-------------------------
Last week, 7M's team played in a tournament (it had nothing to do with the league they'd played in all summer; it was just one of those tournaments that any team can pay the entry fee and play). As is common with baseball tournaments, it was double-elimination, meaning that every team plays until they lose twice. Once a team loses their first game, they drop into the dreaded Loser's Bracket, where they keep playing until they lose a second game. Aside from the name, one of the major downsides of the Loser's Bracket is that you end up playing a LOT of games. If you keep on winning, you can earn the right to play the team that stayed in the Winner's Bracket all along, without ever losing. And you can even win the championship, if you beat that team. . . twice. But of course, they win by beating you only once, since you already have a loss.
7M's team lost a game fairly early on, thereby dropping into the Loser's Bracket. The upshot of which was that they had to play (and win) two games on Saturday just to stay alive. And Saturday, in these parts, was what they call a scorcher, with a high temperature around 93F. And when they succeeded in winning both of their Saturday games, they were set up for a brutal gauntlet of games on Sunday, starting at 9:30 AM. On Sunday, each game they won earned them the right to play again, a half-hour after the end of the previous game. So, when they won their 9:30 game, they got to play again at noon. When they won their noon game, that made them the champion of the Loser's Bracket, and they got to play the Winner's Bracket champion at 2:30. And if they won that game, they got to play the same team again at 5:00 for the championship.
I missed the 9:30 game, since I had some, uh, liturgical responsibilities at church (and obviously, the tournament organizers were not remotely worried about how the players and their families would be getting to church). So I called Jen, who had gone to the early game with 7M, to find out how the early game had gone. When she told me they'd won, I changed into ballgame-watching clothes, filled as many water bottles as I could lay my hands on (Sunday was, if anything, even hotter than Saturday had been), and headed to the ball field.
I parked the car and as I walked up to the field, I was met by a chorus of my fellow-parents regaling me with, "Oh, you just missed it! 7M hit a home run!" Sheesh; again? But as I said already, they duly won their game (over the team that had sent them into the Loser's Bracket in the first place), and the right to play for the tournament championship.
At that point, I expected that they had Gone About as Fur as They Could Go, since the mercury had climbed back into the 90s, and they were playing their third game of the day, against a fresh team that had cruised through all their games up to that point. In fact, it was a team 7M's team had played last year, and been soundly beaten by. Badly, even. We hadn't seen them yet this year, because they had moved up to a more-competitive division. They had a couple of really top-notch players, including one young man who was built like a plow horse, could run like a thoroughbred, and threw bullets (sort of like a 14-year-old Kirk Gibson, with a better arm). I figured that we were about due to have the heat catch up with us, and anyway, the team we were playing was probably just better than us, anyhow. And the idea of getting out of the solar furnace was not, I admit, unattractive, either.
But, lo and behold, it seemed that, by virtue of playing two earlier games, our boys' heads and bodies were in full competitive baseball mode, whereas the other team, having stepped out of their parents' air-conditioned SUVs, seemed to be more affected by the heat. They committed a few early errors, and their bullet-throwing pitcher got frustrated, started over-throwing, got wild, and ended up getting pulled. And the other pitchers we saw were all more eminently hittable. Before we knew it, we were ahead 7-0, and by the end of the 5th inning, we were ahead 15-3, so the 10-run mercy rule was invoked. It was the other team's first loss all season. And I'm guessing those kids had never in their lives been on the losing end of the mercy rule. So, against all odds, we were set to play our fourth consecutive game, this time for the championship.
I had no illusions as to how easy it would be to win that last game. At some point, I figured, the heat, and all those games, would catch up to us, and we wouldn't catch the other team back on their heels again. Plus, by playing four games in a single day (and six over the weekend), we were running out of pitchers. 7M had already thrown 11 innings over the two days, so he wasn't available even for relief duty.
But lo and behold, we came out even stronger in the second game than we had in the first, amassing a 10-0 lead by the end of the 2nd inning. Our bats were incredibly hot. Even the kids who didn't normally hit a lot were having bloopers drop in, and the big bats were sending big drives over the outfielders' heads. 7M hit a triple, and as he stood on third, I called out to him, "I saw THAT!"
We held that lead for the next couple innings, but in the 3rd and 4th innings, it all seemed to come apart. I don't know if the heat, or plain exhaustion, started kicking in, but we made a bunch of errors. And you know how it is, that when the first error happens, somehow, it just makes the next one that much more likely, and pretty soon, it's like nobody can think straight. By the end of the 4th inning, we were behind, 12-10. Somehow, though, our boys collected themselves and scratched out three runs in the 5th, taking a 13-12 lead. The other team scored a run in the 6th inning, tying the game, and it stayed that way as we came to bat in the bottom of the 7th (and nominally final) inning.
7M led off the inning, with the other team's bullet-thrower back on the mound, now himself recollected, and throwing incredibly hard. But 7M got around on one of his pitches, and drilled a double over the left-fielder's head. The next batter, a lefty, hit a similar ball to right field that the right fielder was able to run down, but 7M was able to tag up and advance to third base. So we had a runner on third, with one out, and a pair of decent, if not quite super-stellar hitters coming up. The opposing coach intentionally walked both of them, though, setting up forces all around, and bringing a young man named Will to the plate. Will is a gritty little ballplayer, but - how shall I say it? - he's a gritty LITTLE ballplayer. And a 7th-grader, to boot. He had come to bat against the flame-thrower kid earlier, and hadn't come close to getting around on his stuff. I would be disingenuous if I told you I wasn't thinking that we were headed to extra innings.
The big kid went into his windup, and suddenly 7M broke for home, running full-speed down the line. The pitch came home, little Will turned and squared, and dropped the most beautiful bunt you ever saw, between the pitcher and the third-base line. But it didn't matter. By the time the ball landed fair, 7M was already across the plate with the winning run. Incredible. . . I told our coach afterwards that he's got some pretty big ones. And honestly, it was a pretty genius move, since Will was unlikely to do any damage any other way, and he's probably the best bunter on the team. . .
So, 7M and his team ended up playing six games over two days, and four in ten hours on Sunday, all in 90+ degree heat, winning every single one of them, on the way to winning the tournament championship by handing an excellent squad their first two losses of the season.
I never would have thought that I could ever remotely be 'baseballed out', but today I'm pretty close. Somewhere in there, I figure that Jen and I must have earned some kind of 'Parent Points' for sitting for that many hours in the scorching heat, watching our son play baseball. And by the time the last game finally ended, and the trophies were well and properly handed out, it was nearly 8 o'clock, and the last mass in town was just ending. Sheesh.
But. . . wow. . . just Wow. . .
7M was one of the better players on his team. He was one of the main pitchers, and batted either 3rd or 4th in the lineup all season. I don't know what his batting average was; in fact, I didn't get to see very many of his games, since my commute usually got me home late enough that his games were about half-over by the time I got back to Our Town. As the season wore on, I made more of an effort to catch such bits of his games as I could, since he really appreciated it whenever I could come. So, often as not, Jen would bring my supper to the ballgames, and I would eat it in the bleachers while I watched.
We developed an odd, and frustrating, pattern, wherein I would arrive at the game, and as I walked up to the ball field, the other parents would greet me with, "Oh, you just missed 7M's hit - he really crushed it!" Then, when he came to bat again, he would get walked, or hit by a pitch, or some other less-dramatic thing than The One I Didn't See.
(*sigh*) Alas. . .
-------------------------
Last week, 7M's team played in a tournament (it had nothing to do with the league they'd played in all summer; it was just one of those tournaments that any team can pay the entry fee and play). As is common with baseball tournaments, it was double-elimination, meaning that every team plays until they lose twice. Once a team loses their first game, they drop into the dreaded Loser's Bracket, where they keep playing until they lose a second game. Aside from the name, one of the major downsides of the Loser's Bracket is that you end up playing a LOT of games. If you keep on winning, you can earn the right to play the team that stayed in the Winner's Bracket all along, without ever losing. And you can even win the championship, if you beat that team. . . twice. But of course, they win by beating you only once, since you already have a loss.
7M's team lost a game fairly early on, thereby dropping into the Loser's Bracket. The upshot of which was that they had to play (and win) two games on Saturday just to stay alive. And Saturday, in these parts, was what they call a scorcher, with a high temperature around 93F. And when they succeeded in winning both of their Saturday games, they were set up for a brutal gauntlet of games on Sunday, starting at 9:30 AM. On Sunday, each game they won earned them the right to play again, a half-hour after the end of the previous game. So, when they won their 9:30 game, they got to play again at noon. When they won their noon game, that made them the champion of the Loser's Bracket, and they got to play the Winner's Bracket champion at 2:30. And if they won that game, they got to play the same team again at 5:00 for the championship.
I missed the 9:30 game, since I had some, uh, liturgical responsibilities at church (and obviously, the tournament organizers were not remotely worried about how the players and their families would be getting to church). So I called Jen, who had gone to the early game with 7M, to find out how the early game had gone. When she told me they'd won, I changed into ballgame-watching clothes, filled as many water bottles as I could lay my hands on (Sunday was, if anything, even hotter than Saturday had been), and headed to the ball field.
I parked the car and as I walked up to the field, I was met by a chorus of my fellow-parents regaling me with, "Oh, you just missed it! 7M hit a home run!" Sheesh; again? But as I said already, they duly won their game (over the team that had sent them into the Loser's Bracket in the first place), and the right to play for the tournament championship.
At that point, I expected that they had Gone About as Fur as They Could Go, since the mercury had climbed back into the 90s, and they were playing their third game of the day, against a fresh team that had cruised through all their games up to that point. In fact, it was a team 7M's team had played last year, and been soundly beaten by. Badly, even. We hadn't seen them yet this year, because they had moved up to a more-competitive division. They had a couple of really top-notch players, including one young man who was built like a plow horse, could run like a thoroughbred, and threw bullets (sort of like a 14-year-old Kirk Gibson, with a better arm). I figured that we were about due to have the heat catch up with us, and anyway, the team we were playing was probably just better than us, anyhow. And the idea of getting out of the solar furnace was not, I admit, unattractive, either.
But, lo and behold, it seemed that, by virtue of playing two earlier games, our boys' heads and bodies were in full competitive baseball mode, whereas the other team, having stepped out of their parents' air-conditioned SUVs, seemed to be more affected by the heat. They committed a few early errors, and their bullet-throwing pitcher got frustrated, started over-throwing, got wild, and ended up getting pulled. And the other pitchers we saw were all more eminently hittable. Before we knew it, we were ahead 7-0, and by the end of the 5th inning, we were ahead 15-3, so the 10-run mercy rule was invoked. It was the other team's first loss all season. And I'm guessing those kids had never in their lives been on the losing end of the mercy rule. So, against all odds, we were set to play our fourth consecutive game, this time for the championship.
I had no illusions as to how easy it would be to win that last game. At some point, I figured, the heat, and all those games, would catch up to us, and we wouldn't catch the other team back on their heels again. Plus, by playing four games in a single day (and six over the weekend), we were running out of pitchers. 7M had already thrown 11 innings over the two days, so he wasn't available even for relief duty.
But lo and behold, we came out even stronger in the second game than we had in the first, amassing a 10-0 lead by the end of the 2nd inning. Our bats were incredibly hot. Even the kids who didn't normally hit a lot were having bloopers drop in, and the big bats were sending big drives over the outfielders' heads. 7M hit a triple, and as he stood on third, I called out to him, "I saw THAT!"
We held that lead for the next couple innings, but in the 3rd and 4th innings, it all seemed to come apart. I don't know if the heat, or plain exhaustion, started kicking in, but we made a bunch of errors. And you know how it is, that when the first error happens, somehow, it just makes the next one that much more likely, and pretty soon, it's like nobody can think straight. By the end of the 4th inning, we were behind, 12-10. Somehow, though, our boys collected themselves and scratched out three runs in the 5th, taking a 13-12 lead. The other team scored a run in the 6th inning, tying the game, and it stayed that way as we came to bat in the bottom of the 7th (and nominally final) inning.
7M led off the inning, with the other team's bullet-thrower back on the mound, now himself recollected, and throwing incredibly hard. But 7M got around on one of his pitches, and drilled a double over the left-fielder's head. The next batter, a lefty, hit a similar ball to right field that the right fielder was able to run down, but 7M was able to tag up and advance to third base. So we had a runner on third, with one out, and a pair of decent, if not quite super-stellar hitters coming up. The opposing coach intentionally walked both of them, though, setting up forces all around, and bringing a young man named Will to the plate. Will is a gritty little ballplayer, but - how shall I say it? - he's a gritty LITTLE ballplayer. And a 7th-grader, to boot. He had come to bat against the flame-thrower kid earlier, and hadn't come close to getting around on his stuff. I would be disingenuous if I told you I wasn't thinking that we were headed to extra innings.
The big kid went into his windup, and suddenly 7M broke for home, running full-speed down the line. The pitch came home, little Will turned and squared, and dropped the most beautiful bunt you ever saw, between the pitcher and the third-base line. But it didn't matter. By the time the ball landed fair, 7M was already across the plate with the winning run. Incredible. . . I told our coach afterwards that he's got some pretty big ones. And honestly, it was a pretty genius move, since Will was unlikely to do any damage any other way, and he's probably the best bunter on the team. . .
So, 7M and his team ended up playing six games over two days, and four in ten hours on Sunday, all in 90+ degree heat, winning every single one of them, on the way to winning the tournament championship by handing an excellent squad their first two losses of the season.
I never would have thought that I could ever remotely be 'baseballed out', but today I'm pretty close. Somewhere in there, I figure that Jen and I must have earned some kind of 'Parent Points' for sitting for that many hours in the scorching heat, watching our son play baseball. And by the time the last game finally ended, and the trophies were well and properly handed out, it was nearly 8 o'clock, and the last mass in town was just ending. Sheesh.
But. . . wow. . . just Wow. . .
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