It's Sunday morning and I have an hour before I have to place some dynamite under Buddy's bed to arouse him. We are going to mass then lunch at our favorite Mexican restaurant. Sadly, this is the only place that we like here. We tried every single pizza place and none of them compare to the pies in our neighborhood. Last night after I picked him up at the drop off, I thought that I was treating him to an all-you-can-eat pizza and salad buffet. In my mind, this was the perfect place for him as he decompressed from his long trip and time on the bench. After sitting in a booth, we bit into the pizza, got up and left....it was so bad. The search continues....what did I expect? The buffet cost $4.99.....we certainly are not in Atlantic City at the Borgota! My advice is...if it seems to be too good...it's not...a $4.99 all-you-can-eat buffet will be loaded with inedible food. Take our word for it.
So, now you know...he went to the game yesterday and sat on the bench again. To make the most of it, he continued to work out with his bullpen buddies as they perfect their own games. They make a game of ignoring Stinky and have now reconciled that the summer did not pan out as it was promised. Buddy is not the only pitcher who is not being given enough innings. More than half of the guys sit in the bullpen rotting away as they spend the game sleeping and texting their friends. Buddy has been my texting friend as I sit in the stands and watch the game. We chat about a number of random things from Libido's kid as he strikes out to Rat Boy and what we are having for dinner. There is nothing he can do except continue to push for innings, a start, or an opportunity to play. The coach seems oblivious to him. Sparky seems to be more concerned with the way his Pepsi's are placed in the cooler before the game. By the way, during the All Star break, the coach mandated that the guys who are not in the game have to paint the dugouts.....OK..wait a second....deep breath....here I go (see next paragraph).
PAINT THE DUG OUTS!!! Is he kidding? It must be a joke...really...a joke. Let's review...."you are cordially invited to play for ______ a prestigious collegiate baseball league in the heart of the Midwest. You will be given the opportunity to play in a competitive league and hone your skills..." The team promised development, work outs, a job, nightly meals, and a place to stay. By the way, there is a large fee to play on this team, but the money will come back to each player in the form of uniforms (they have to give them back....Buddy's is missing buttons), training, coaching, and travel. The players have been following directions and showing up at kiddie baseball camps, autograph and photo sessions, parades, and so on. Now they want to use them as manual labor and paint the dugouts and stadium. Not on my watch....u-uh...no way, Jose....not in my lifetime....over my dead and lifeless body...
We are going home for the break and staying for 6 days. He will miss a game that he would not have played in anyway. He mentioned this to Stinky who immediately got upset. Hmmm...there are 16 pitchers. Buddy and 10 of them do not play regularly. If he misses one game, they won't notice (or is it because he won't be painting?). Actually, they do not notice when he is there except Sparky's Pepsi's would not be in the right alignment. Perhaps Buddy can delegate the Pepsi delivery to a starting pitcher. It does not take a rocket scientist to line them up per the coach's desire. He could create a diagram with pictures of Pepsi (not Coke) and post it in the dugout. Now that the soda issue has been resolved, we plan to leave at dawn on Wednesday, point the car east and not stop until we find some edible pizza. It will take about 8 hours, but we don't care...the pizza from last night is still sitting in a big wad of dough in my stomach and will still be sitting there until the end of the month.