Monday, July 19, 2010

We All Have One.

Golf is a strange game. Now for those of you who think it is a boring game, please continue reading, my post does not resemble your shaded feelings towards this glorious sport. The reason I claim golf is strange is because every time you play you learn something, whether it be about your game or about something completely different. Due to my hectic schedule at work I have nearly given up on golf ,but recently a couple buddies convinced me to play in a tournament. I obliged. Being one who likes to have company on the course I asked my friend Landon if he would be, what we call in the golf world a caddy. He agreed. We showed up barely on time. Continually he would give me advice on which clubs to hit and which to refrain from. I played great he kept my mind off of things. Most importantly we had fun.
As stated above every time you play you learn something new...

A caddy's job description goes as listed
1. Carry the clubs.
2. Make sure the clubs are clean
3. When asked what to do by the golfer, respond, otherwise keep quiet.

Landon was the one that taught me something that day involuntarily; he followed the job description fairly to moderately well. Throughout our 18 hole battle with the course, I am almost positive that we solved every problem that this world has. If I may be blunt, Landon didn't clean a single club nor ball, in fact if I remember correctly I carried my clubs. But that thing that meant the most was that he was there, he lent me an ear and overall some pretty good wisdom. This round of golf may have been another stroll on the course for my caddy but I took away alot more then a 73.
One thing, when troubled put your worries away and seek your caddy, whether that be a best friend or a parent. Also it's nice to know that when we hit the ball in the water (make a mistake in life) your caddy is right there to hand you another ball and say "Put that one behind you, let's make this one better."
I ask you my abundant followers not if you have a caddy nor how many, but whether you are a caddy yourself. Whether we realize it or not we have caddies, use them. More importantly be aware when you Mr/Mrs. Caddy are needed.

Hit the ball straight and keep it in the fairway.

As always, Rightfield Hero.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

True Criminals of a Dying Art.

Many of you won't believe this... I had the opportunity to take a fine, young lady out on a date.
yes mother I went on a date. Are you proud?
For those of you who are confused when I use the word date. Date: a social appointment, engagement, or occasion arranged beforehand with another person...Although at times it may seem like a true four letter word.
As one should on a date I was prompt on picking her up and as we headed towards my car I gladly opened her door for her. I continued this all night, opening doors, standing as she entered/departed the room and what not. By the end of the night I walked her to her door, thanked her for the fine evening and gave her a hug. She said to me "You a such a gentleman, thank you." Although my chivalry didn't earn me more than a kiss on the cheek it was a victory nonetheless.

I have heard many women repeat this worn line "Chivalry is dying art." Chivalry - the sum of the sum of the ideal qualification of a Knight, including courtesy, generosity and valor. So it is my job today to play Sherlock and find out the true criminals of such a crime. bias set aside of course. Many will jump the gun and automatically blame the men. Please don't.
Men do play a very large role in this crime, but not all of us. To those few gentlemen left in the world fighting the endless battle of dying chivalry I thank you. To those dudes who are either too good to show courtesy or think they are just above the law, piss off.
This is where girls become in my opinion the bigger culprit. Time and time again I have listened to girls complain to me that their, now ex boyfriend was such a jerk. Ladies... When your dude texts you to ask you out, that alone should be a sign that he is no good. If the pretty girl in this world keep falling... and falling quite hard I might add for these self proclaimed studs, chivalry will die. It's hard to compete with the competition when you have to downgrade to do it. Let your man call you to ask you out... or even just to ask you how your day was. Don't text. Does he not have time in between working out and making a protein shake? Or is he too busy trying to make that next alarm sale? Let him be a man and call you. You are gorgeous, you deserve it.
We have all seen this, a gorgeous woman with a not so good looking fellow. You wanna know what that is? That is a very smart girl who gave chivalry a chance to play it's role. She fell for a real gentleman, a genuine prince charming.
We are all culprits in this wicked battle. So men... pick up the slack. And ladies...

Next time you think you are falling for prince charming, make sure he is a gentleman.

As Always,
Right Field Hero.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Silent Courage

Next to me sleeps a man. As I sit poking my keyboard, I can't help but notice a couple of things. First off, his roughly calloused hands are a distinct indication of his solid work ethic. Next, I see the bruises and cuts up his arms showing maybe a hint of carelessness, stubbornness or the needle marks due to countless blood transfusions. I look around this small room and its cruelty for a man with such a background. His 3 x 6 window is a cruel punishment, a tease of the outside world that he so dearly longs to taste again. This is a man whom over the past couple decades has become my hero. This man knows not his future as he lies in this cheap bed. The ailment that controls his body throws him through loops, but by his upbeat personality one wouldn't know he had a thing wrong with him.
As he so greatly declares "I have nothing wrong with me, I feel fine." How dearly I wish to believe these words. Over the past few days, this man has spoken many words of council to me. I have listened very intently. He's become a best friend. As I continue my typing, I sit in awe at his great strength. How he can lie in this prison and be so happy, I will never know. This sign of silent courage gives me hope and strength with the trials I encounter in my life.

He calls me Superman. But the real hero lies next to me, My Grandpa.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Right Field Hero

Dear Admirable Followers,

This is my first post. One of many to come, hopefully. First off I thank you for your support and your comments to come. The first topic I have chosen to blog about is my screen name.

Right Field Hero

Growing up I loved sports, I was the kid who would run around the neighborhood looking for some sort of game to join. I will never forget my first encounter with little league baseball (every boys dream). I showed up to practice and the coach pulled me aside he said "Brooks, you are going to be a good ball player I am happy to have you on my team". He then pointed to a scrawny little fellow named Briggs. He commented "Briggs is here because his parents want him to be, he has no game. That is why he plays right field." Coach then explained to me that right fielder position belong to those nonathletic kids because nobody ever hit the ball into right field.
Days and practices went by and I continually watched Briggs in the unimportant position that he so dearly loved. He would pick grass and dandelions. Coach would continually get on his case, which we both knew led no where.

The season started and by the time I knew it we were fast approaching our last game. I had played pretty well that year, as for briggs he didn't do so well. In fact he didn't get a hit all year, he never caught a ball and was being continually yelled at by coach and teammates.
As a 14 year old boy in little league nothing means more to you then the State Playoffs, and our team was one win away from reaching this coveted destination. Before the game coach told us that we needed to play our best, nobody could make mistakes everything needed to be perfect. I watched Briggs again as we were receiving this win one for the gipper speech and his head slowly met the palms of his hands. I patted him on the shoulder and said "lets do it". The game was pretty fun I don't remember much about it. But the part that I do remember will forever stick with me as it has now become a life lesson.

Our team was up 1 run with 2 outs. Runner on third and second (for those of you who aren't baseball fans- this means that the team we were playing potentially had the chance to beat us or we could get one more out and win). Brigss was having a typical game 3 times at bat and 3 strikeouts. 2 errors in the outfield due to lack of will or concentration.

Our pitcher pitched the ball and the kid knocked one out towards Briggs. We all kind of stood there hoping for a miracle knowing it wasn't possible. Briggs stuck out his glove and somehow the ball met his glove. HE CAUGHT IT! game over. Briggs was the hero. He cried that day as did coach.

So why the name rightfieldhero for me?
Well in life there are so many different types of people. I have come to the conclusion that due to my over thinking head and come what may personality I have been pinned with the right field position in life. So I sit in the grass, picking the wild flowers hoping that someday a might catch that crucial fly ball.

Until then, Play Ball.

Right field hero.