For Love of the Game

Since I've made a vow of blogging silence regarding my favorite MLB team, I'll write about the next best thing: the Little League World Series. I've enjoyed watching this year's LLWS coverage, which wrapped up this afternoon in dramatic fashion with Georgia winning on a walk off home run in an extra-inning thriller against Japan.

I like this Georgia team. In the late innings of yesterday's U.S. Championship game win against Texas, the Georgia coach called time out and strolled out to the mound to talk to his pitcher. The game was tight and the pitcher was a little rattled. ESPN had the coaches miked so viewers could eavesdrop. "Is everybody breathing?" the coach joked, trying to keep his team loose. He reminded them that it doesn't get any better than this; to relax, have fun, and keep doing the things that had gotten them that far. I loved that. He didn't go on some testosterone-infused, in-your-face pep talk. He calmed his team and they won. That impressed me.

I've also been impressed by the purity of the game at this level. These kids are well-instructed in the the fundamentals of baseball. They can hit, field, pitch, and run. There were a lot of home runs, even though the league moved the fences back fifteen feet. All the kids on a team have to play over the course of the game, and the league protects the arms of their young pitchers by limiting them to 85 pitches.

But what I think I enjoyed the most about the LLWS is that these kids are still young enough to allow the enthusiasm of their youth to creep into the game. Big league players are too tough and cool to show their emotions, unless it's screaming at the ump to argue a call or rushing the mound after a brush-back pitch. And they are the only professional sport, that I know of, that doesn't congratulate the opposing team at the end of the game. How lame is that? I once saw a former major leaguer trying to answer a question from a young fan about why they don't shake hands with the other team. His answer was lame. He threw out some B.S. about "being so wrapped up in the battle" with the other team that it's hard to separate from that and shake hands. What a crock. You're playing baseball. You barely have ANY contact with the other team, unless you're getting tagged out or beaned by the pitcher. Football and basketball players literally beat on each other for four quarters, yet somehow are able to put "the battle" into enough perspective (as in: IT'S A GAME!) to congratulate their opponents at game's end.

Contrast that with Little League, where players flash broad smiles as they round the bases after a home run and are greeted by their whole team at the plate. Heck, they smile after ANY hit or any time they get on base. In this afternoon's game, one of the Georgia hitters missed hitting a home run by inches. He wound up on second base, shaking his head in disbelief and mouthing the words "So close!" And after the game-winning homer and the ensuing celebration, the Georgia players graciously consoled a distraught Japan team. It was a great show of sportsmanship.

So in an age where our baseball heroes are doping and dropping like flies, the Little League World Series was a welcome and refreshing change of pace. It's too bad it's only two weeks out of the year.

She's Got My Back

One thing I love about being a dad is those moments when one of my girls does something that catches me totally off guard, leaving me speechless and breathing deeply for fear that I might lose it right in front of them.

At the beginning of the school year I established a morning routine where, after either gently or rudely awakening the girls from their peaceful slumbers, I would give them piggy back rides to the family room while they picked the crusties out of the corners of their eyes. I have spoiled the girls with piggy back rides and the girls have come to expect them. Imagine their disappointment when, a couple of weeks ago, I woke up and could hardly get out of bed due to pain in my lower back. I am no stranger to lower back pain. It comes and goes in phases, and I can usually work my way out of it over the course of the day. But for the past two weeks, it's been too much to work through first thing in the morning. So not only do the girls literally receive a rude awakening, they then have to stumble to the family room on tired little feet.

The girls have also become accustomed to my back pain. They know better than to ambush me from behind as they have seen me crumple to the floor, crippled with pain, on more than one occasion. They've seen me struggle to get up from the couch like an 80 year-old man, and they have also "adopted" lower back pain to get out of doing things they don't want to do.

Earlier this week, I was surprised to find Kailey sitting up in bed when I walked in to wake her up for school. Trying to wake Kailey up is like trying to wake the dead. She's the one I most often have to resort to the "rude awakening" to get out of bed. I shuffled into her room clutching my back and trying to work out the kinks. Her eyes lit up when I entered the room, and as I sat down beside her, I noticed she had her allowance money spread out across her bed. "Hey, Sweetie. Whatcha doing?"

"Dad. I saw this commercial yesterday for this bed. It's called a Tempur-Pedic. They put a glass of wine, like this red wine, on one side, and they jumped on the other side, and guess what? It didn't even fall down! But on the other bed, they jumped on it, and it spilled all over the bed!"

"I'll bet that made quite a mess," I laughed, knowing exactly what commercial she was talking about.

"Yeah, it did! When I saw that commercial, I thought I could buy you a Tempur-Pedic bed for your back!"

I sat there staring at my daughter, dumbfounded as I realized what was going on. Kailey woke up that morning and pulled out her allowance money to count it and see if she had enough to buy her old man a bed that would ease the pain of his aching back. Kailey has saved quite a bit of money for an eight year-old, but nowhere near enough for a Tempur-Pedic. Believe me. I've checked. But the fact that she was willing to spend her savings on me blew me away. I tried to say something, but the words clotted in my throat. So I reached out and gave her a big hug while I composed myself.

"Thank you, Sweetie. That's very kind of you," I finally managed. I wanted to give her a piggy back ride right then and there; hell, I wanted to buy her a pony, anything to show her how much I appreciated her gesture of kindness, but knew that somehow it would all fall short. So I did the thing that she needs most from me: be a dad. Love her. Protect her. Care for her. Provide for her. I helped her put her money away and we walked hand in hand to the family room where I resumed my morning ritual duties. Only on this particular morning, I did it with a little more spring in my step...bad back and all.

Giving AA Another Try

No, I'm not talking about Alcoholics Anonymous, although I may have to eventually give them a try if I receive any more crap from American Airlines. Earlier this year I thoroughly documented my "correspondence" with AA "Customer Service Agents" over sharing my $700 seat with a 500 lb man on a flight to Chicago. They didn't want to give me jack, but eventually offered me a low-ball offer of a $200 voucher, which I reluctantly accepted. I really didn't want to fly American again, ever, but since I have over 50,000 frequent flier miles and a $200 voucher, I guess we'll be using them at least one more time.

Well, it's time for the family to head back to Illinois once again, so I grabbed my low-ball voucher and surfed over to AA.com to see what they had to offer. It didn't take me long to find some reasonable fares for $278. With two free flights and the voucher, this meant I would pay roughly $400. Not too shabby! So I reserved the flights, cashed in my miles, redeemed my voucher, and paid for the balance without a hitch, right? Oh, you have so much to learn about American Airlines.

First, there's no way to combine payment methods online. You either reserve all of your tickets using miles or you reserve them using plastic. There is no in-between. Second, you can't redeem vouchers online either. You have to call and talk to a "Customer Service Agent" to do that. Oh great, I thought, I'm sure I have a very large asterisk next to my name when they pull my account up on their database. This should be fun. So I put the tickets on hold under using frequent flier miles, which basically said that I needed to purchase 47,000 more miles to complete the transaction. I took a deep breath and dialed the 800 number to talk to a ticketing agent. After ten minutes of maneuvering through the menu options, I finally connected with a living, barely breathing human being.

"You wanna do what?" she gasped.

"I want to reserve two of these tickets using my miles, redeem a $200 voucher, and purchase the balance. I tried to do this online, but your website doesn't allow it." I explained.

"Of course it doesn't allow it," she squawked. "Those are two COMPLETELY DIFFERENT types of transactions." You'd have thought I was asking her to book me a flight to Uranus, which was where this conversation was quickly headed. I wanted to tell her that the process probably wasn't all that complicated if American Airlines would just get off their lazy a...but then I remembered that asterisk by my name, so I bit my tongue.

She asked me to hold for a moment, and I heard her pounding away on her keyboard. "OK, I've reserved two tickets using your miles under your current record locater, and I created a new locater for the remaining two tickets where the balance is $878."

!!!!!!!!!!

"I just saw those tickets online for $278," I objected. "With fees and taxes they came to $309."

"I'm sorry, sir, these are the fares that come up on my screen."

I called up the fares page on my computer screen, and, sure as Shinola, the fares had gone up in the fifteen minutes it took for me to talk to a ticketing agent. CONSPIRACY! There MUST be an asterisk next to my name! I thought about it for a moment, then told her that I wasn't ready to reserve the tickets. I had seen tickets available for around $400, and I wasn't about to give that up. She told me that my current tickets would be on hold for 24 hours. I thanked her and hung up. And after spending another couple of hours surfing, I couldn't find anything close to the original fares.

The next day I decided to risk it and start from scratch. I also decided not to log into the AA website while researching fares just in case there WAS an asterisk by my name. And, wouldn't you know it, there were my original fares for $278. BINGO! I moved to reserve them as fast as my fingers could type, this time under the regular reservations page so those bastards couldn't change the fare on me. When I got to the "Hold/Reserve" page, I realized that I had only reserved two seats. Rat Farts! So I started over, reserving two adult and two child seats, and when the fares page came up, the flight rates, again, had increased to $389. RAT FARTS!!

Then I wondered if the amount of tickets had anything to do with the price. It shouldn't, but I decided to check anyway. Two tickets...$278 apiece. Four tickets...$389 apiece. What the hell? I put the two tickets on hold, opened another tab in my browser, found seats on the same flights using my miles, and put those tickets on hold. Four tickets for a final out-of-pocket expense of $416. EAT THAT, AMERICAN AIRLINES! I triumphantly dialed the 800 ticketing number, no longer caring about the asterisk next to my name, and closed the deal.

They'll probably have the last laugh, though. This time they'll book a 600 pounder to sit next to me. I say bring...it...on. 'Cause this time I'll be ready.


The Backstory:
I Am Not A Happy Camper
A REALLY Unhappy Camper
American Airlines...Doing What They Do Best...Irritate Customers
Could the End Be Near?
American Airlines...The Final Chapter

It Pays To Be The Tooth Fairy

I guess Kyra was in a generous mood after loosing her sixth tooth yesterday. Diane snuck into her room last night to make the tooth/exorbitant money exchange when she found this note folded inside Kyra's Tooth Fairy pillow (yes, the girls each have their own Tooth Fairy pillow).



I didn't say it pays WELL to be the Tooth Fairy.

Skechers...the Key to Happiness

I bought some new shoes the other day.

I haven't bought shoes in a couple of years.

I hate buying shoes.

I hate shopping.

Period.

Which is why I haven't bought shoes in a couple of years.

I went to Kohl's to buy a new pair of running/athletic shoes.

But I couldn't find any I liked.

I saw these on my way out of the store.

They're Skechers.

They looked cool.

I liked the stitching...

...and the little nubby things on the bottom.

Even though you can't see them, I know they're there.

I tried them on.

They looked even better on my feet.

They felt good, too.

Good and comfy.

So I bought them.

They make me happy.

I'm smiling.

If I'd have known that these shoes were the key to happiness, I'd have bought them a long time ago.

If only my meds had the same effect.