"You are my baseball pants"

is what I said last Friday night before bed. In a moment of superstition, I slept in my baseball uniform to help me out of a batting slump. Perhaps, the most comfortable and breathable sleep I've had in quite a while. I woke anew, legs fresh and ready to take part in the Saturday morning PSSBL Rocky match-up between the Missions and Saints. After ingesting 6 cups of coffee on game day, my brain was racing. Figured I should continue to follow my superstitious undertakings and set myself upon completing a regiment of tasks.

See, break out games from my little league and varsity baseball days required ingesting green M&M's, ham and cheese melts and concession stand hamburgers smothered in nacho cheddar cheese sauce beforehand. A few prayers to Duke Snider, Roberto Clemente and Rod Carew, along with unwashed stirrup socks were all thrown into my baseball superstition cauldron.

Instead of all that, I took a jacuzzi bath to warm my 28 year old muscles. A McDonald's Sausage, Egg and Cheese biscuit placated the rumbling stomach. I paid 15 dollars to hit a few dozen baseballs at Strike Zone to hone my ailing swing. . .

Long story short, I went 2 for 4, with 2 singles, an RBI and 3 stolen bases. In pitching news, I got the win while finishing work from the 6th inning on. Many props to my teammates who played a heck of a game.

My apologies for not heavily hitting the blog this week and last. Currently, I'm on location all week with the Seattle-based photographer, Alex Hayden and my good buddy Bill Rugen. I'll catch up soon.