Post by CM Poor on Sept 3, 2018 19:04:11 GMT -5
Well, it was a fun idea while it lasted.
I should have rightly known how ambitious it was, coming back in off a thirteen year absence and hoping against any sort of hope that I’d live to see the second round of a championship tournament. The truth is, I’m lucky to be here at all. By right, I should be somewhere in the midst of a Canseco run. Most guys in my position would be happy enough to get a spot playing fodder to the up and comers over at LPW. To be able to be out of the game for thirteen years and walk back into any sort of something from the WFWF?
That’s nothing to be taken lightly.
There isn’t any shame in losing to a hand like Mesh. That girl’s gonna go far, I’m calling it right now, and the lot of us? We’ll be able to say we were around to see it happen. If she comes out of this thing holding the new belt high, I’ll be proud to chalk that loss up in my resume.
Not that I want to be making this a habit.
Coming up short sort of became my M.O. back in the day. I was a loser - no two ways about it. None of that’s even enough to mention the streak I came here off of to begin with, but some things are better left to lay. That’s sort of all I’ve got left to go on these days. Looking back hasn’t done much by me all these years, so I might as well change course. See what’s waiting in the opposite direction.
It works for Coach Belichick.
Why not me?
We’re on to Mexico.
August 23rd, 2018
Boston, MA
The First Day of School
”They were beginning to think you wouldn’t make it.”
A deep, involuntary yawn emerges as an unintended response to Jenn’s scathing critique, and I know before I open my eyes as it passes that she’s shooting me that trademark scowl of hers, certain that I mean it to be some sort of dismissal of her concerns.
”Cute, Lance. Real cute.”
And people ask why things didn’t work out between us.
”Sorry. Truth told, I was kinda thinking that way myself. Traffic’s a mess this morning.
If you don’t know, the flight from Tokyo back to Boston isn’t exactly quick. If you’re not on the road before six A.M. most days, the traffic in Boston isn’t much quicker. I’d doubled down on the cost of parking at Logan so I could beeline right from the airport to see the kids off on their first day of school. It was the least I could do, really, having shouldered a couple of extra days onto Jenn to afford myself the chance to work the Japan gig.
Maybe not my best laid plan, in hindsight, but hey, I’m here, right?
”Well, you’ve got exactly thirty minutes before they’re late, so maybe get this show on the road?”
Don’t have to tell me twice.
”Probably should. Say goodbye to your mother, guys.”
I seize upon the break in the tension while Jenn gives Maddie and Joey assurances and strict directives as to where she’ll meet them that afternoon to take a long, deserved slurp of my large iced, savoring the brief reprieve from the need to focus at all before Jenn’s back at my window, no doubt ready to issue my own set of directives.
”Is this going to become a thing?”
It’s a fair concern. I mean, I made it, but I’m sure it came at the expense of her biting her nails down to nubs or something.
The joys of joint parenting.
”Shouldn’t be. Trip to Mexico’s a bit less of a haul. Think they’re an hour or two off, tops. We’ll at least be in the same time zone.”
”I don’t want you nodding off while they’re in the car.”
See, now that does warrant a bit of snark. I’m beat, sure, but I’m still a responsible grownup. Her opinionated mileage may vary. She rolls her eyes as I tip my coffee in her direction before speeding off without so much as a goodbye.
Kids have said theirs. Good enough.
”Mom let us watch the show.”
And she says I’m irresponsible. That had to have been way past their bedtime.
”Oh yeah? You like it?”
”You lost to a girl.”
Ah, the mindset of an eight year old.
”Sure did. Mesh is a tough girl though, pal. I don’t think there’s many guys that can do something she can’t. Shouldn’t assume I’d win just because she’s a girl.”
”Yeah, you try telling that to Kevin O’Doyle. I’m the one who’s gonna have to hear about it all day!”
Really? My kid’s bully is named O’Doyle?
Come on.
”Well, Maddie’ll look out for you, won’t you, hun?”
My oldest had been conspicuously quiet, even as she bid her mother farewell. I can’t pretend to know what goes on in the mind of a ten year old girl, but this was unusual, especially for her.
”Maddie?”
”Does it hurt?”
Wasn’t expecting that.
Probably that inattentiveness Jenn used to rail about.
I glance up at the rearview mirror, and the look on that little girl’s face makes me feel about three feet tall. Granted, I wasn’t exactly banking on Jenn acquiescing any requests to have the kids watch the show, but the onus of not stopping to consider what getting back into this would mean to the kids? That was all on me. They weren’t exactly a variable in play my first time around - we’re talking, really, about two small humans who’ve never known me as anything more than the dad they only see once in a while because things didn’t work out with mom, whose lone athletic pursuits involve a handful of public school coaching gigs.
Damn.
”Sometimes it does, honey.”
”Why would you do something that hurts?”
The tremble in her voice bears the unmistakable mark of fear. She’d grown so much in such a short period of time, and I often found myself needing to reflect on the fact that ten is still barely grazing the cusp of understanding the world around you - nevermind eight to the sass-mouthed little hellfire sitting beside her. I couldn’t begin to expect them to understand the implications of what had drawn me back in - not just the sense of personal fulfillment, but the financial influx that’d leave those kids set for life. Conversely, the should have been able to count on me to understand the implications of what all this meant for them. Kevin O’Doyle ruining Joey’s first day of school over his old man getting beat by a girl. Maddie going in barely rested on account of all the sleep she’d lost over watching her dad get pummeled on life television.
God, what an ass I was.
”There’s a lot of reasons, honey. I...it’s grown up stuff, a lot of it. But I don’t want you to worry. Your dad’s still a tough old guy. I can handle myself.
”Sure, as long as you don’t have to fight another girl.”
”Joey!”
”Well what am I supposed to tell the other guys?!”
Jesus Christ.
As if I didn’t have myself a hard enough time navigating grade school.
Now I get to do it all over again?
I slow the car to a stop, just beyond the front entrance to the sprawling school ahead.
”You tell that O’Doyle kid that if he’s got anything to say, I’m still around for a couple of days if he wants to talk it out.”
That draws a smile. Bullies can look huge when you’re eight, but even Joey’d be hard pressed to deny that his dad was bigger than most kids old men.
”And Maddie?”
My daughter looks up as Joey scurries out the door already, looking half timid, half scowling.
She’ll look just like her mother one day.
Christ almighty.
”Mom says you’re going to get yourself killed.”
So much for putting her mind at ease.
She’s gonna be just like her mother one day.
”I love you, Maddie. Have a good first day, alright?”
Father of the year, right here.
I didn't get back into this game to suffer fools.
I've got a laundry list of reasons I jumped back in.
Pride.
Dignity.
My kids.
Take your pick.
I knew coming into this that I'd be faced with the full gamut of personalities. It's part and parcel for the role, and I made my peace with that well before anyone second guessed themselves, asking "wait, who?"
That doesn't mean I have to like it.
Ryan, you swing one hell of a bat for a boy who hasn't chalked a win up to his name yet. Now, I know I'm not exactly one to talk, but there's a whole world of difference between the way we've carried ourselves thus far, and if I'm being honest?
I don't think I much like you, Ryan.
You've been lashing out at anyone that so much as looks at you funny. That sort of behavior'd have V-Tek up in your grill faster that you could say "Hi, I'm A-Rod" back where I come from.
Maybe you figure no one'll touch you here.
Maybe you're right.
I mean, if the shoe fits - you're repulsive. You're dangerous. You might just incite the types of fears some just aren't tuned in to deal with yet.
I am.
I'll take you on, Ryan.
Hell, I'll even bring my own bat.
I think I know a thing or two about swinging, still.
It's time someone taught you some respect, kid.
Needles, meet Smash.
I should have rightly known how ambitious it was, coming back in off a thirteen year absence and hoping against any sort of hope that I’d live to see the second round of a championship tournament. The truth is, I’m lucky to be here at all. By right, I should be somewhere in the midst of a Canseco run. Most guys in my position would be happy enough to get a spot playing fodder to the up and comers over at LPW. To be able to be out of the game for thirteen years and walk back into any sort of something from the WFWF?
That’s nothing to be taken lightly.
There isn’t any shame in losing to a hand like Mesh. That girl’s gonna go far, I’m calling it right now, and the lot of us? We’ll be able to say we were around to see it happen. If she comes out of this thing holding the new belt high, I’ll be proud to chalk that loss up in my resume.
Not that I want to be making this a habit.
Coming up short sort of became my M.O. back in the day. I was a loser - no two ways about it. None of that’s even enough to mention the streak I came here off of to begin with, but some things are better left to lay. That’s sort of all I’ve got left to go on these days. Looking back hasn’t done much by me all these years, so I might as well change course. See what’s waiting in the opposite direction.
It works for Coach Belichick.
Why not me?
We’re on to Mexico.
August 23rd, 2018
Boston, MA
The First Day of School
”They were beginning to think you wouldn’t make it.”
A deep, involuntary yawn emerges as an unintended response to Jenn’s scathing critique, and I know before I open my eyes as it passes that she’s shooting me that trademark scowl of hers, certain that I mean it to be some sort of dismissal of her concerns.
”Cute, Lance. Real cute.”
And people ask why things didn’t work out between us.
”Sorry. Truth told, I was kinda thinking that way myself. Traffic’s a mess this morning.
If you don’t know, the flight from Tokyo back to Boston isn’t exactly quick. If you’re not on the road before six A.M. most days, the traffic in Boston isn’t much quicker. I’d doubled down on the cost of parking at Logan so I could beeline right from the airport to see the kids off on their first day of school. It was the least I could do, really, having shouldered a couple of extra days onto Jenn to afford myself the chance to work the Japan gig.
Maybe not my best laid plan, in hindsight, but hey, I’m here, right?
”Well, you’ve got exactly thirty minutes before they’re late, so maybe get this show on the road?”
Don’t have to tell me twice.
”Probably should. Say goodbye to your mother, guys.”
I seize upon the break in the tension while Jenn gives Maddie and Joey assurances and strict directives as to where she’ll meet them that afternoon to take a long, deserved slurp of my large iced, savoring the brief reprieve from the need to focus at all before Jenn’s back at my window, no doubt ready to issue my own set of directives.
”Is this going to become a thing?”
It’s a fair concern. I mean, I made it, but I’m sure it came at the expense of her biting her nails down to nubs or something.
The joys of joint parenting.
”Shouldn’t be. Trip to Mexico’s a bit less of a haul. Think they’re an hour or two off, tops. We’ll at least be in the same time zone.”
”I don’t want you nodding off while they’re in the car.”
See, now that does warrant a bit of snark. I’m beat, sure, but I’m still a responsible grownup. Her opinionated mileage may vary. She rolls her eyes as I tip my coffee in her direction before speeding off without so much as a goodbye.
Kids have said theirs. Good enough.
”Mom let us watch the show.”
And she says I’m irresponsible. That had to have been way past their bedtime.
”Oh yeah? You like it?”
”You lost to a girl.”
Ah, the mindset of an eight year old.
”Sure did. Mesh is a tough girl though, pal. I don’t think there’s many guys that can do something she can’t. Shouldn’t assume I’d win just because she’s a girl.”
”Yeah, you try telling that to Kevin O’Doyle. I’m the one who’s gonna have to hear about it all day!”
Really? My kid’s bully is named O’Doyle?
Come on.
”Well, Maddie’ll look out for you, won’t you, hun?”
My oldest had been conspicuously quiet, even as she bid her mother farewell. I can’t pretend to know what goes on in the mind of a ten year old girl, but this was unusual, especially for her.
”Maddie?”
”Does it hurt?”
Wasn’t expecting that.
Probably that inattentiveness Jenn used to rail about.
I glance up at the rearview mirror, and the look on that little girl’s face makes me feel about three feet tall. Granted, I wasn’t exactly banking on Jenn acquiescing any requests to have the kids watch the show, but the onus of not stopping to consider what getting back into this would mean to the kids? That was all on me. They weren’t exactly a variable in play my first time around - we’re talking, really, about two small humans who’ve never known me as anything more than the dad they only see once in a while because things didn’t work out with mom, whose lone athletic pursuits involve a handful of public school coaching gigs.
Damn.
”Sometimes it does, honey.”
”Why would you do something that hurts?”
The tremble in her voice bears the unmistakable mark of fear. She’d grown so much in such a short period of time, and I often found myself needing to reflect on the fact that ten is still barely grazing the cusp of understanding the world around you - nevermind eight to the sass-mouthed little hellfire sitting beside her. I couldn’t begin to expect them to understand the implications of what had drawn me back in - not just the sense of personal fulfillment, but the financial influx that’d leave those kids set for life. Conversely, the should have been able to count on me to understand the implications of what all this meant for them. Kevin O’Doyle ruining Joey’s first day of school over his old man getting beat by a girl. Maddie going in barely rested on account of all the sleep she’d lost over watching her dad get pummeled on life television.
God, what an ass I was.
”There’s a lot of reasons, honey. I...it’s grown up stuff, a lot of it. But I don’t want you to worry. Your dad’s still a tough old guy. I can handle myself.
”Sure, as long as you don’t have to fight another girl.”
”Joey!”
”Well what am I supposed to tell the other guys?!”
Jesus Christ.
As if I didn’t have myself a hard enough time navigating grade school.
Now I get to do it all over again?
I slow the car to a stop, just beyond the front entrance to the sprawling school ahead.
”You tell that O’Doyle kid that if he’s got anything to say, I’m still around for a couple of days if he wants to talk it out.”
That draws a smile. Bullies can look huge when you’re eight, but even Joey’d be hard pressed to deny that his dad was bigger than most kids old men.
”And Maddie?”
My daughter looks up as Joey scurries out the door already, looking half timid, half scowling.
She’ll look just like her mother one day.
Christ almighty.
”Mom says you’re going to get yourself killed.”
So much for putting her mind at ease.
She’s gonna be just like her mother one day.
”I love you, Maddie. Have a good first day, alright?”
Father of the year, right here.
I didn't get back into this game to suffer fools.
I've got a laundry list of reasons I jumped back in.
Pride.
Dignity.
My kids.
Take your pick.
I knew coming into this that I'd be faced with the full gamut of personalities. It's part and parcel for the role, and I made my peace with that well before anyone second guessed themselves, asking "wait, who?"
That doesn't mean I have to like it.
Ryan, you swing one hell of a bat for a boy who hasn't chalked a win up to his name yet. Now, I know I'm not exactly one to talk, but there's a whole world of difference between the way we've carried ourselves thus far, and if I'm being honest?
I don't think I much like you, Ryan.
You've been lashing out at anyone that so much as looks at you funny. That sort of behavior'd have V-Tek up in your grill faster that you could say "Hi, I'm A-Rod" back where I come from.
Maybe you figure no one'll touch you here.
Maybe you're right.
I mean, if the shoe fits - you're repulsive. You're dangerous. You might just incite the types of fears some just aren't tuned in to deal with yet.
I am.
I'll take you on, Ryan.
Hell, I'll even bring my own bat.
I think I know a thing or two about swinging, still.
It's time someone taught you some respect, kid.
Needles, meet Smash.