Monday
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5/04/06
That's My Boy!
It’s been said that having the confidence of your convictions is a key to success. Now certainly having convictions is an integral part of that formula, but I would argue that studiously ignoring real world evidence that may contradict your convictions is, how shall we say, stupid.
But of course our lives are full of examples of such foolishness. I, for instance, remain convinced that I will someday be good at golf, that the next pepperoni pizza I eat won’t give me heartburn, and that watching Stargate One doesn’t make me a geek. A guy can dream, can’t he? (Now it’s obvious that at this juncture I could take this premise and make a sharp right hand turn into the driveway of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, but I’m really not in the mood today; and really, who has time for a laundry list of grievances that long?)
Anyhoo, the flip side of my occasional moronic stubbornness is the joy of having a cathartic experience that takes me by the hand and leads me from the fog of arrested opinion into the light of reasoned enlightenment. (Anyone for a second helping of hyperbole?) So yes, once again I’ve seen the light, and today it shines on… little league. I am, for the moment at least, now a big fan of the game and my kid’s team. Yes, I know, the past few springtimes I’ve posted diabolically clever indictments of the institution of little league; postings that employed brilliantly withering sarcasm as well as breathtakingly insightful social commentary. (Well, perhaps mildly snarky and a bit grumpy is a more accurate way to characterize those posts, but once again, a guy can dream, can’t he?)
My change of heart about little league is really pretty straightforward: my oldest is playing pretty well. He’s getting plenty of field time playing third base and he’s getting hits to boot. What’s more, he’s been making some good plays in close games that are actually exiting. Whoda thunk? What finally tipped the balance for me though was a play last Saturday: my boy was playing third when a kid on the other team hit a long ball to the outfield. Our team missed the runner at second when the ball was overthrown, and then when the runner came around third the ball was overthrown again, but my boy hustled for it like a pro and threw the runner out at home to save a tie game that they went on to win. Woooo!
And there I was, screaming and cheering like a sports-parent-maniac. Go figure. So anyway, today’s lesson: you really need to pay attention when life walks right up to you and pokes you in the forehead, otherwise you’ll just look like an obdurate nitwit. Or a Neo-con. Whichever.
.
|
5/04/06
That's My Boy!
It’s been said that having the confidence of your convictions is a key to success. Now certainly having convictions is an integral part of that formula, but I would argue that studiously ignoring real world evidence that may contradict your convictions is, how shall we say, stupid.
But of course our lives are full of examples of such foolishness. I, for instance, remain convinced that I will someday be good at golf, that the next pepperoni pizza I eat won’t give me heartburn, and that watching Stargate One doesn’t make me a geek. A guy can dream, can’t he? (Now it’s obvious that at this juncture I could take this premise and make a sharp right hand turn into the driveway of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, but I’m really not in the mood today; and really, who has time for a laundry list of grievances that long?)
Anyhoo, the flip side of my occasional moronic stubbornness is the joy of having a cathartic experience that takes me by the hand and leads me from the fog of arrested opinion into the light of reasoned enlightenment. (Anyone for a second helping of hyperbole?) So yes, once again I’ve seen the light, and today it shines on… little league. I am, for the moment at least, now a big fan of the game and my kid’s team. Yes, I know, the past few springtimes I’ve posted diabolically clever indictments of the institution of little league; postings that employed brilliantly withering sarcasm as well as breathtakingly insightful social commentary. (Well, perhaps mildly snarky and a bit grumpy is a more accurate way to characterize those posts, but once again, a guy can dream, can’t he?)
My change of heart about little league is really pretty straightforward: my oldest is playing pretty well. He’s getting plenty of field time playing third base and he’s getting hits to boot. What’s more, he’s been making some good plays in close games that are actually exiting. Whoda thunk? What finally tipped the balance for me though was a play last Saturday: my boy was playing third when a kid on the other team hit a long ball to the outfield. Our team missed the runner at second when the ball was overthrown, and then when the runner came around third the ball was overthrown again, but my boy hustled for it like a pro and threw the runner out at home to save a tie game that they went on to win. Woooo!
And there I was, screaming and cheering like a sports-parent-maniac. Go figure. So anyway, today’s lesson: you really need to pay attention when life walks right up to you and pokes you in the forehead, otherwise you’ll just look like an obdurate nitwit. Or a Neo-con. Whichever.
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