It's been such a long time...

(all apologies to Boston)

Time flies...

Sorry that it's been so long.

While I find blogging therapeutic to an extent, the time to do it has been fleeting.

I've been so busy with work and softball. I have two new clients that I've been working with in Maryland to add to the third one. I've been running up and down the road to the tune of a hundred miles a day or more back and forth.

Softball has been pretty good. The travel team did fairly well. We won about half of the the games that we played, beating most of the teams that we should have. We will struggle at times because we are going to end up playing 14U teams that are a year older and stronger.

We have been caught up in the whole swine flu epidemic the past two weeks. My dearest Ellen had a cold for a couple days, then my youngest (now 5) got sick a couple days later at the same time I did. It all lasted about 5 days. Now my dearest and my oldest are sick.

I will try and post some more later...

Clark

Back to tournament ball

In the past, I have been a fastpitch softball coach for tournament level teams. Theses teams are together year round and play tournament on the weekends usually once or twice per month.

I've been out of that for a little while since my oldest was only playing in high school and my middle daughter had only just started to achieve that level.

An opportunity appeared one day in the form of a bridge between the 12U and the 14U level...13U!

This gave me an opportunity to get my daughter on a tournament team and then to bring her along as she grows, helping her to get the right skills to play high school.

This particular organization is pretty prestigious compared to the organization in which I used to coach. The caliber of player is higher and there is a lot of support.

I hope I'm able to fill the open spots with good players.

Clark

Softball Updates!!

It's been a long spring and summer season:

My house league team was runner up in their 12U division. The team entered the playoffs having lost more games than they one, but the average loss was only by a couple of runs. They played very well throughout the playoffs, winning an emotional game against one of our rival teams in the last inning on a deadly change up pitch by my dearest 12 year old daughter.

I was asked to coach a summer league all star team. Despite being loaded with good pitchers, we only had a .500 record. My dearest 12 year old lead the team in RBIs and triples. Rain dogged us in our early tournaments, where we only got to play two games out of a four game tournament. Our second tournament was much better as we seeded #1 on Saturday only to lose Sunday to the eventual tournament winner. Our last tournament was rained out on Sunday. We played very well on Saturday despite losing one of two games. We were seeded #4 going into the Sunday bracket, so we had a good seeding, although if we had won we would have needed to most likely play the #1 seed.

Clark

Leadership, part deux

Recall my post on leadership? Well, since that post, the captains of my daughter's softball team have threatened her with bodily harm and told her that "I hate you".

Nice. If these are the future leaders of our country, I hope I don't live too long.

Clark

Leadership

I'm not generally one to get up on a soapbox and blather on, but I need to step up and make a statement about leadership.

You see, my oldest daughter plays high school sports. I won't say which one, but it involves a ball with seams. Somehow, two of the least likely kids on the team were "selected" captains. Usually this involves a vote, but there seems to have been some kind of skulduggery at that as well. No matter, on with the story. It seems that no one told these girls that being elected team captain does not immediately make them tin plated dictators. Being a leader is one of the hardest things to do (just look at our last couple of presidents) right, but one of the easiest things to do wrong. Boy, do these girls have it wrong. They seem to thing that barking orders and doing nothing to support the team is what a captain is supposed to do. WRONG! A captain leads through the examples they set. A captain should be the first one on the field and the last one off. A captain should be the first one to cheer their teammate when they do something exceptional and the last one to criticize them for making a mistake. A captain never uses the word "I" only the word "We". A captain doesn't sit around with a penis shaped lollipop in her mouth giggling like she's some sort of mental patient.

I'm done. The soap box has been put away for a while.

Clark

Another successful season

Fall Softball is done!

I enjoyed getting back into head coaching. While we didn't win every game (we were 4-6, I think) we were in just about every one. We only got blown out once (16-5...yuck).

I had a good group of girls and asked all of them to come back. I hope I can get all of them and a couple more good players.

The kids gave me a gift certificate to a local restaurant. A hundred bucks will buy me a lot of food!

Clark

Softball Season is over!

Another softball season is done. My middle child performed well overall at the last tournament, smacking a single and a monster double over the course of the tournament. Her team only won a single game, but I think they had a good time overall.

Oddly enough, my oldest got an invite from her last coach to sub in for a girl who couldn't make a the tournament in the same location. That was fortunate. Her team did better, winning 2 of 3 in the pool play and 1 game in the trophy round. She did it as a favor, stating she was glad that she didn't play tournament ball anymore.

Word of advice: Avoid the Holiday Inn Crowne Plaza in Williamsburg, VA. The only saving grace about that place was the food. The accomodations weren't as stellar as they should have been, given the price.

Clark

In true Grizzwold fashion

My dearest Ellen took my oldest daughter to one of her away tournaments this past weekend (June 23-24, 2007). The middle daughter came along for the ride. As is typical for the Grizzwold family, mayhem ensued.
During the prosecution of the tournament, the middle daughter decided to go back to the Grizzwold Family SUV for some much needed escaping from the heat. At some time during the hour or so period in which the middle child was in the car, some facets of the electrical system were used. When my dearest Ellen made it back to the vehicle to start it up, she was met with a whole bunch of NOTHING! It seemed that the battery had been stressed to the beyond its ability to start the vehicle. Several parents stepped up to help by removing some corrosion on the battery terminals with Coca-Cola and checking over the fuse boxes to see if perhaps a burned fuse was the problem. At the point where people were searching around for jumper cables, a man in a big pickup truck pulled into the empty parking space next to the Family SUV. Interrogatories ensued (something like “hey, is your battery dead?”) and it so happened that the pickup truck driver had a battery charger! Less than an hour later, the Grizzwold’s were up and running again.
The story does not end there. At the point where Mrs. Grizzwold entered the sports complex, she had more than enough gas to get back to the hotel where they were staying. It was a short ride, maybe 5 miles or so. As soon as she got the vehicle up and running, she decided to take it for a ride to charge the battery up and to refuel. Shockingly, the once ample fuel supply had been rendered to mere droplets! The computer display showed ZERO miles left in the tank, the needle on the dash was on “E”, and the “Low Fuel” light was on and blinking. Not knowing what else to do, she pressed on. She knew there was a gas station across the railroad tracks on the main highway leading to the sports complex. It was no more than a mile, she estimated. Surely she had enough to go a mile. Not this time. In true Grizzwold fashion, the truck ran out of gas on top of the railroad tracks! My dear Ellen was panicked as she expected that a train would be soon upon her, smashing the Family SUV to shrapnel. Being that she was in Southern Virginia at the time, another pickup truck pulled up behind her. Interrogatories ensued (something like “hey, is your truck out of gas?”) and it so happened that the pickup truck had several gallon sized gas containers on board. Fortunately, one of them had gas inside. The pickup truck driver was nice enough to give my dearest Ellen enough gas to get off the railroad tracks and proceed to the gas station.It’s puzzling how it was that the gas disappeared like that. The middle child had the keys to the vehicle, but claims only to have turned on the key to run the radio and turn on the lights (which explained away the battery situation). More than likely, there was less gas in the tank than there was and the computer did not accurately display the number of miles left in the tank: Garbage in, garbage out. In true Grizzwold fashion, she ended up no worse than from where she started.

No more Screamette!

As I mentioned in my previous post, the oldest Grizzwold daughter was going to be quitting her high school softball team due to mega-personality issues with Screamette, her awful coach. She's done it and not too soon for her mental state. When she confronted the "coach" the coach actually told her she was a very good player, she just hadn't proven herself yet. Well, if you don't get to do anything but practice, it's awful hard to prove yourself, isn't it?

Overall, her high school experience (en toto) has been pathetic. This is just one of a long line of negativity emanating from the dark space that is the local high school. Why just recently, a local gang phoned in a Columbine-style shooting threat. Fortunately, the boys in blue were on the job and surrounded the school in preparation for a full on frontal assault!! That and the fact that we have an award winning principal should make all of us feel much safer.

I'll turn the sarcasm off now.

Clark

The camel is broken...

“Coach” Screamette has finally broken the back of the camel. Last night, one of the other girls didn’t bring her uniform pants with her to the game. Rather than make the girl sit out until the correct pants arrived from home, she turned to my daughter and asked for her pants. Astonished, my daughter thought quickly on her feet and said that her pants size was medium and didn’t believe they would fit said girl. So the coach had a three way exchange between two other girls, one of which was sitting out anyway (OK...so why did she ask my daughter first?). The right pants came in the second inning. So, rather than make an example of the girl who forgot her pants, the “coach” turned to my oldest and asked for her pants, which three able bodied girls were sitting on the bench! It’s not like Miss Forgot-her-pants was playing a key position. She was the Right Fielder!

Sadly, due to the continued disrespect from the “coach”, my oldest has decided (against her father’s best wishes) to quit the team. She is planning to do it this afternoon, I suppose, rather than face another practice. I could make her stay on the team, I suppose, but I also wonder how many more post-game sob-fests it will take until my daughter will need extensive therapy. Thankfully, she will be able to increase her tournament team practice time.

Clark

Mental Anguish...

Sadly, coach Screamette continues the mental mumbo jumbo at our precious older daughter. Earlier this week, Screamette said that she would decide if our girl would get playing time behind the plate based on how she practiced. Bolstered by the glimmer of finally proving herself to the "coach", she worked her butt off in practice and overall felt good about being on the squad again.

Unfortunately, the mentalness of the "coach" took over and she didn't get any playing time. She didn't even get a reason as to why. Consolations and tissues were the order of the day after that game. Ol' Clark couldn't even watch without getting supremely angry. Since we Grizzwold's don't quit, she's gonna stick to her guns and hope for some playing time later in the season.

Word to the wise: if you have a psychotic coach who knows little about evaluating talent, don't have a meeting with the coach and athletic director and give them reasons not to play your child.

Clark

Periodic Success...

A special congratulations goes to the oldest Grizzwold daughter, who's softball team won a championship this past weekend.

We are especially proud that she has the "stick-to-it-iveness" to deal with her psychotic high school coach, Ms. Screamette, and maintain her sanity enough to step up and contribute to an undefeated weekend.

Clark

Coaches

If you’ve read my profile, you’ll note that my wife and I were blessed with three children, all girls, who are now 14, 10, and 2 (yes, ol’ Clark failed family planning). The two oldest are very active athletes and love girls softball. The fastpitch variety. The oldest plays both tournament and varsity high school ball. The middle one is currently playing recreational league games, but wants to be just like her sister. Even the two year old likes to participate with her plastic bat and ball. Your ol’ pal Clark has even been their coach off and on over the years. Over that time, I’ve learned a lot about kids and how to get them to perform. I’m no expert, but I’ve learned a few things along the way. OK, OK…I know….get to the point, Clark!

My oldest’s varsity coach is a very disturbing coach. Her idea of discipline is screaming and running. I’m not talking about the kind of screaming that is just an increase of volume coming out of one’s mouth. I’m talking the brow-beating, beat down, self esteem crushing kind of screaming. The kind of screaming that makes you wince, even if you aren’t the target of the screamer. In her eyes, discipline means you must dislike me, but respect me. How can you respect someone when they are constantly screaming at you for following directions correctly?

Case in point, my oldest was benched for the first two innings of last night’s ball game. The coach, Ms. Screammette, decided that she would put my oldest in to play in the middle of the game, the 3rd inning, in Right Field. She told her this after announcing the starting lineup. In the bottom of the second inning, my oldest was sent by the coach to warm up her arm (it was a cold night). Five minutes later, Coach Screammette comes out of the dugout screaming at her “What are you doing? You’re on deck!” Flustered, my oldest ran in to bat, unprepared mentally and physically, striking out in the process. When the teams switched places for the start of 3rd inning, my oldest ran out to the outfield. Coach Screammette yelled, “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be at first base!"

We are the Grizzwolds, we come to expect this kind of "challenge".

I think you get the picture.

Clark

She had a what?

We Grizzwolds are accustomed to having bizzarre stuff happen that wouldn't normally happen to anyone else.

Case in point. Our oldest of three daughter's plays fastpitch softball as a catcher for her local team. During a point of a recent game, she was hit in the right breast. Now, Clark, you might ask, don't catchers wear all sorts of protective gear? Right. They do. However, in this particular case, the breastplate had moved to the side or something and exposed her right boob. Over the course of a few days, it hurt more and more. It wasn't really bruised, although you could see seam marks from the ball. A lump appears and she starts to run a fever. The Doctor's suspect an infection (mind you, there was no open wound) and give oral antibiotics. Nothing really changes and the lump on her breast gets larger and it starts to turn red. Next thing you know, we're at the hospital for two days having an abcess removed from the area adjacent to her right nipple.

Kids being what they are, after the surgery she bounces back to play in a national tournament. I suppose you might think that since she didn't die from the infection, I shouldn't be posting this. However it's not the ultimate outcome that makes us the Grizzwolds, it's the circumstances and the wacky path that we take to get there.