Some where in the dead of night, in either North or South Dakota, maybe Wisconsin or Minnesota, or possible Wyoming the sports world was rocked at the retirement of Ken Griffey Jr., or just Jr., or the kid. He's known by all three names. Jr. was selected to the top 50 players of the last century and was as close defensively to Willie Mays, as any other center fielder. He had the arm, speed, power, average, and leaping ability of a handful throughout baseball history. He ended his career with 630 home runs.
The announcer was discussing how good would Jr. have been without injuries. My first thought was how good would he been on steriods. Jr. was steriod free in an era of Juice. He played the game right because he was taught right by his father and The Big Red Machine. Jr. had sat in major league dug outs since the age of two and played catch with the likes of Rose, Foster, Bench, etc. I have a poster of Jr. and Sr. playing for Seattle in Jr's early days. His rookie card was more valuable in the 90's than present day. A little of his gleem left when he departed Seattle. Leaving to be close to your family is sound judgement but he now longer wore the crown of a king that stayed in his kingdom. My favorite saying is, "You start the season, you finish the season," but we will wave that requirement for Jr. He gave baseball his all and we are all better for watching Jr. place a cleat in the fence to climb where even the, Say Hey Kid, dare not fly.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Tripping
Driving the 97 Camry to Billings was wind aided. Like a cheap home run my fill up, in Billings, confirmed a 50 mpg fuel rating. The Camry was filled in GF and 260 miles later in Billings and the fuel tank read 4.6 gallons. A call to Rob and Bertus confirmed they both thought me quite nuts. Decision time: Go through North or South Dakota. There is one term that you all should know and that term is, Randing Around. Anyone that perfers to drive alleys, walkways, gravel roads is the definition of Randing Around. This is a term that was coined by my two good friends and ex-traveling partners Rose and Linda from PA. No maps are allowed in Randing Around and a GPS unit should be illegal. Randing Around is lead by prayer and asking complete strangers the best coarse of action. An ex-Billings firefighter, now living in Geraldine, told me to go South Dakota. Five miles into the South Dokata route my mind told the rest of me to wise up and go to North Dakota, through Glendive.
The course of action being reversed the Camry and one huge cargo are heading East on 94, when out of nowhere, a solid black Dodge Charger, lights flashing, pulls me over for what, speeding? My cruise was set on 78 mph when a large highway patrolman was standing at my window. Honest to goodness this guy looked like me playing Gary Stone in The Vessel. "Where's your front license plate, he asked.
"Oh it's under my seat, as my frame wedged out the drivers door, opened the back door, moved five things out of my way, and produced the plate."
"You do realize that the plate belongs on the front of the car."
"Yes but Mother's Day while driving my truck to Helena," and proceeded to tell hime the story of the 97 Camry. He shook his head, went to his car, and checked on my license, insurance and mental status.
"Your license says you live at this address but you gave me a Lower River Road." You do know that you have 10 days to renew a change of address?"
"My license is up in 2012 so I was waiting for that date."
"I'm letting you go with a warning but get that plate on the front of your kid's car."
"Actually it's my son-in-law as he turned away. I drove off thankful for no ticket.
Lori Bringle is the Area Agency Director living in Glendive. She and I were drinking buddies back when I drank. Eastern Montana residents are known to bend an elbow and Glendive was my next fill up. The time was around 10 PM and nothing like a choice of Country or Rap. In
Glendive my radio went to Rap. The Camry spotted a video store where we stopped to sell Iron Ridge. A high schooler said she didn't have that authority and why was I bothering her at such a late hour. She told me to stopped at Taco Johns for the best tacos in town. She was probably telling the truth because it looked like the only tacos in town.
At 3 AM, in the middle of North Dakota, the Camry engine was turned off and my eyes were shut. My daughter's Zena Warrior Princess blanket was used to cover my body and eyes. This blanket was in my basement, saved from 20 years of non use, and pulled into service on a softball trio to Redding. But that will be another time with the Portland story.
Monte, Monte wake up. Karen Allen, from Raiders of the Lost Ark, is trying to wake me after being hit in the head by jungle creatures. My love for Ms. Allen was developed the first time my eyes witnessed Animal House. My ex-wife was similiar to her in looks and attitude and in my dreams my looks are much more handsome than Indy Jones and bravier. Bad Jungle people are
ripping at her white lace dress and ready to cut her hair when the horn sounds on the next truck next to me bringing me back to reality. The dash board read 4:30 and I'm awake so might as well drive.
The sun rise was brillant and bright and talk radio was making fun of Jessie James surfer talk. The commentators thought he should be more, Biker. The sign read Minnesota so my teeth were brushed at the rest stop and my eyes did a map check. Minneapolis is reachable by noon.
Some time passed Glendive my phone rang and it was Bertus explaining that Slovak and Warner, Slovak my lawyer and Warner a college room mate may have a ticket for me on Thursday night to watch the Twins and Yankees.
A call to Slovak confirmed the possibility but today was my day to attend the Twin's game. As the Bible says tomorrow is not a given so attending today is a must.
My phone rang and it was Warner. He gave me an idea where to park without paying $30. The Camry was 10 blocks from the stadium when it decided to turn into a parking lot that was connected to a $100 motel with a pool. We stopped, my body gratefully accepted a shower and swim, another shower, and off to the ballpark. My feet carried me and a copy of Iron Ridge to Target Headquarters. They accepted the movie and promised to watch. They laughed as my question about tickets was heard. "Ain't no tickets, the Yankees are in town and last night was a unfinished game. People will be flowing in tonight.
My ticket was purchased but was for standing room only. My entrance into Target field was done quickly. Three farmers and a mascot was the only people ahead of me. With handicam running my entrance was quick and my camera headed right for home plate. The usher there conceeded to a quick interview and told me a little about the stadium. It was nice but most inportant was it was outside. No more Metrofield or whatever that stadium was called. My three worst ballparks are in order: third worst King Dome in Seattle, Metrodome number two., but the worst was Expo Park in Montreal Canada.
Jeter hits a homer in the continueation game and the Yankees bottom three hitters put on a show to win the second game. My butt was tired of sitting. The play of the day was a line shot that hit the pitcher in the gut, richotshaded down to third base line where A Rod made a over the shoulder catch for an out. The ball never hit the ground. As a hitter those swinges confirm it is probably not going to be your day. That night my sleep was so hard that no beautiful showed up to talk or whatever. Tomorrow Wisconsin
The course of action being reversed the Camry and one huge cargo are heading East on 94, when out of nowhere, a solid black Dodge Charger, lights flashing, pulls me over for what, speeding? My cruise was set on 78 mph when a large highway patrolman was standing at my window. Honest to goodness this guy looked like me playing Gary Stone in The Vessel. "Where's your front license plate, he asked.
"Oh it's under my seat, as my frame wedged out the drivers door, opened the back door, moved five things out of my way, and produced the plate."
"You do realize that the plate belongs on the front of the car."
"Yes but Mother's Day while driving my truck to Helena," and proceeded to tell hime the story of the 97 Camry. He shook his head, went to his car, and checked on my license, insurance and mental status.
"Your license says you live at this address but you gave me a Lower River Road." You do know that you have 10 days to renew a change of address?"
"My license is up in 2012 so I was waiting for that date."
"I'm letting you go with a warning but get that plate on the front of your kid's car."
"Actually it's my son-in-law as he turned away. I drove off thankful for no ticket.
Lori Bringle is the Area Agency Director living in Glendive. She and I were drinking buddies back when I drank. Eastern Montana residents are known to bend an elbow and Glendive was my next fill up. The time was around 10 PM and nothing like a choice of Country or Rap. In
Glendive my radio went to Rap. The Camry spotted a video store where we stopped to sell Iron Ridge. A high schooler said she didn't have that authority and why was I bothering her at such a late hour. She told me to stopped at Taco Johns for the best tacos in town. She was probably telling the truth because it looked like the only tacos in town.
At 3 AM, in the middle of North Dakota, the Camry engine was turned off and my eyes were shut. My daughter's Zena Warrior Princess blanket was used to cover my body and eyes. This blanket was in my basement, saved from 20 years of non use, and pulled into service on a softball trio to Redding. But that will be another time with the Portland story.
Monte, Monte wake up. Karen Allen, from Raiders of the Lost Ark, is trying to wake me after being hit in the head by jungle creatures. My love for Ms. Allen was developed the first time my eyes witnessed Animal House. My ex-wife was similiar to her in looks and attitude and in my dreams my looks are much more handsome than Indy Jones and bravier. Bad Jungle people are
ripping at her white lace dress and ready to cut her hair when the horn sounds on the next truck next to me bringing me back to reality. The dash board read 4:30 and I'm awake so might as well drive.
The sun rise was brillant and bright and talk radio was making fun of Jessie James surfer talk. The commentators thought he should be more, Biker. The sign read Minnesota so my teeth were brushed at the rest stop and my eyes did a map check. Minneapolis is reachable by noon.
Some time passed Glendive my phone rang and it was Bertus explaining that Slovak and Warner, Slovak my lawyer and Warner a college room mate may have a ticket for me on Thursday night to watch the Twins and Yankees.
A call to Slovak confirmed the possibility but today was my day to attend the Twin's game. As the Bible says tomorrow is not a given so attending today is a must.
My phone rang and it was Warner. He gave me an idea where to park without paying $30. The Camry was 10 blocks from the stadium when it decided to turn into a parking lot that was connected to a $100 motel with a pool. We stopped, my body gratefully accepted a shower and swim, another shower, and off to the ballpark. My feet carried me and a copy of Iron Ridge to Target Headquarters. They accepted the movie and promised to watch. They laughed as my question about tickets was heard. "Ain't no tickets, the Yankees are in town and last night was a unfinished game. People will be flowing in tonight.
My ticket was purchased but was for standing room only. My entrance into Target field was done quickly. Three farmers and a mascot was the only people ahead of me. With handicam running my entrance was quick and my camera headed right for home plate. The usher there conceeded to a quick interview and told me a little about the stadium. It was nice but most inportant was it was outside. No more Metrofield or whatever that stadium was called. My three worst ballparks are in order: third worst King Dome in Seattle, Metrodome number two., but the worst was Expo Park in Montreal Canada.
Jeter hits a homer in the continueation game and the Yankees bottom three hitters put on a show to win the second game. My butt was tired of sitting. The play of the day was a line shot that hit the pitcher in the gut, richotshaded down to third base line where A Rod made a over the shoulder catch for an out. The ball never hit the ground. As a hitter those swinges confirm it is probably not going to be your day. That night my sleep was so hard that no beautiful showed up to talk or whatever. Tomorrow Wisconsin
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