"Fans Go Crazy For the Boys of Fall"

It's fall. Halloween is less than a week away, I've said goodbye to my baseball team, and embraced my love for my hometown football team, the Indianapolis Colts (with a lot of crap from the locals). I'll be the first to admit, I hate fall. There's nothing I like about cold weather, the shorter days, or all the gorgeous green leaves dying and falling to the ground in their imminent death. This is the time of year I always fall victim to S.A.D and become the most unpleasant being on the planet. Although thanks to the recent weather, however, I haven't been so unpleasant yet. This has given me the chance to step back and really look at the changes in the season, and changes in my life. Not only that, but I've been learning things as I go.


A few days ago was an off day for me, and I spent the day outside (which is a rare thing as I'm usually on the computer working on something). The weather was absolutely beautiful. The sun was shining brightly over my head, there was a slight breeze, just enough to create little ripples in the water and the air was filled with the scent of fall. I let my dogs out for an early run because I didn't even want them to miss out on a day like that. Lately I've been walking about two miles a day with my best friend, but she was busy that afternoon so I decided to take a walk with my beloved pup (who's actually not a pup, but about 7 years old!). He's worse than a small child in the fact that he's a very hyper dog and, believe it or not, he never gets tired or worn out. He's always fun to go walking with, even if he doesn't always stick around (He's got terrible ADD, I swear). We walked to our back pasture, then up the road a bit. I know people always talk about how they'd love to live in the country and hear nothing but silence. Actually, its not like that at all, its better.

Out here, we're not exactly within earshot of our neighbors. But on a nice day, you can walk outside and hear our old neighbors shootin' the bull with one another. Laughter fills the air and so does target practice by a few others, in preparation for deer season. I never noticed how beautiful this time of year can be.

Not only is the weather the only change, but there's a transformation in sports as well. I was having a hard time saying goodbye to baseball for a while, seeing as this is my first off season after becoming a fan in early June. I was at work about a month back and although I can't hear the radio from my designated spot, I stepped into the office and listened a song I'd heard a million times recently, but I hadn't listened to the lyrics at all. It was a song called The Boys of Fall by Kenny Chesney.

As I listened, I realized how much I really missed football and the high I used to get from it, before I knew baseball. It was a Friday night and my best friend was at a local high school football game, so I decided to ask off for that Sunday to ensure I could finally watch a football game or two. It also helped that the Colts were playing the Broncos that Sunday (I've adopted the Broncos as my stepteam this year after Tim Tebow was drafted in the first round, plus my cousin has been a die hard Broncos fan his entire life, so I thought I'd give them some attention). Although, to my huge disappointment I found that since they were playing at the Broncos stadium, I didn't get to watch it on my TV. I settled for my second favorite Draftee, Sam Bradford. I watched as the Rams defeated the Redskins 30-16. Ultimately the Colts would defeat the Broncos 27-13. I did nothing but watch an incredible game unfold before me. I'd missed that feeling a lot. The last full game I watched before that day was the Super Bowl when my beloved Colts lost to the Saints. I was glad a team I liked was winning this time. This was the day I found my football love all over again, and the sadness I felt over the Cardinals season ending, wasn't necessarily gone but it made the transformation process much easier.

Not only did I learn to love football all over again, but my dad and I have been watching a few games together, and we're getting along a lot better since we actually like the same teams in football. That's not the case for baseball, unfortunately. I even found out that my dad played in a minor league football team. Why did I not know this before? The team has since changed their name, and I can't really find any information online about them with their former name, but maybe someday I'll run across something. Just a cool bit of information.

There are 6 days until my favorite holiday, Halloween, and I've finally accepted that fall is here and its time to transform myself as well. Tomorrow is my best friend's birthday and we're going to spend the day watching scary movies, enjoying the weather, carve pumpkins, and end the day with a bonfire and roast a hot dog or two along with some marshmallows, of course. Welcome to fall, everyone.

PS- Even though I'm fully immersed in football, I'm still rooting for the Rangers in the World Series. #GoGoPowerRangers! :)

Never Do One, Without The Other. ...Why Not?

I'll warn everyone now, this post isn't an original thought. It stems from a chat I had with a friend of mine, and his latest blog post. He's a very informative blogger, everyone should read his stuff. :)

For the record, I knew Josh Hamilton before I knew baseball. I was a Hamilton fan before I was a Cardinal fan, so I'm not jumping on some bandwagon. Just thought I'd clear that up.

Recently the Texas Rangers hosted a post season celebration in which current Texas Ranger, Josh Hamilton, was soaked in Ginger Ale rather than the normal Champagne. Why? Because Josh is a recovering substance abuser. While I do applaud the Rangers for trying to do the right thing and have him in the celebration without interfering with his recovery, I'm still shaking my head. After the Ginger Ale celebration, the champagne and beer were wheeled in the room, and Josh slipped out the door for interviews.

At first, I was appreciative that the Rangers would still allow Josh to be a part of the celebration and bubbly bath. Afterword, I realized they could have done more. I understand that it's the norm, and its all apart of the fun to be drenched in alcohol by your friends and teammates, but why? I'm sure Josh had just as much fun, covered in Ginger Ale. (I'm sure he enjoyed the non-headache he had the next morning, too.) Instead, he was the one left out while his friends celebrated without him. He got his few minutes to celebrate, then it was their turn to go crazy.

I'm not saying its wrong to celebrate in such a way, and I'm not saying they're bad people. I just think the whole thing is pointless. What they were trying to do for Josh, seemed a bit covered up by the after celebration. I'm sure the guys had such a high, they didn't need alcohol to make the moment even better. I'd have much more respect for a team who celebrated with just Ginger Ale on camera, for the kids to see. Every fan sees the post game celebrations. Instead, they left Josh on his own while they had their Champagne madness. After all, aren't teams supposed to support each other the whole way through? They all could have done whatever they wanted after they left the clubhouse, no big deal. They're grown men.

I've always gone by the thought that, if something has more cons than pros, why do it? I personally can't stand the taste of wine, brandy, or even the smell of beer. I know many people drink to be 'free' and wild and careless, but I can have my own fun, or release, without the use of alcohol. (and save money doing it, woot!) I'd much rather see guys celebrate from their own natural high. We look down on players who go out drinking after a game and get into a little trouble, but drunkenness is all okay if its in celebration? I just don't get it, but I'm probably a little biased again.

I'm not complaining, and I love to see the celebrations, but as a Hamilton fan who wants to see him succeed in his recovery, and as a fan who would greatly appreciate good role models in baseball, I'd love to see a full celebration video of guys just having fun being themselves. Just being young baseball players, having their own good times and still be appropriate for the kids to see. But, what do I know?

Why Stan is The Man

Not yet a week ago, on October 2, 2010, the St. Louis Cardinals organization, along with Busch Stadium along with the rest of the entire St. Louis community, honored a remarkable man named Stan Musial. I could sit here and write you an entire blog about Stan's career and all the things he accomplished with the Cardinals organization. But that's not what I want to do. I'm talking about "Stan The Man"...not "Stan The Baseball Player".

I wont act like I know everything about the man, so bear with me. As a new fan, I heard all about him, but never really knew who he was. Recently I had to write a research paper in one of my classes and chose to write about baseball and how its evolved since the early 1900's. Yeah, I know, generic, but...it was easy to write. Therefore, to look for research that wasn't all over the internet, a friend and I went to a local used book store (i.e. a shed in her neighbor's backyard). I picked up two books. A biography about Whitey Herzog & a 1960's edition of "Sports Magazine's All-Time All Stars", a book consisting of article collections of some of the greatest baseball players to play the game. The owner of the shop talked me into another set of books and I didn't have enough money for them all, so I had to put Whitey's book back on the shelf. Sorry, Whitey.

I went home and inspected my All-Time All Stars book. I just planned on scanning it. I didn't feel like reading, anyway. In the table of contents I saw a name I had recognized all year: Stan Musial. I slowly turned the pages, taking in the names I saw along the way, when I stopped on a page with big bold letters and read them aloud, "Stanley Frank Musial". The next twenty minutes I spent reading that article was filled with pride for my new found Cardinal love, teary eyes as I became attached to the man I was reading about, but most of all, laughter.

That is the one thing I learned about Stan, and the one thing I admire most about him. In the article the writer states, "The one thing Stan Musial was known for- other than getting a base hit- was his laugh." As a female filled with plenty of #chickcomments, I can honestly say there's nothing a woman loves more than a man with a good sense of humor. I've gone on to read many quotes by Mr. Musial, and have increasingly grown to love him the more I know about him.

In today's world of baseball, its all too easy to grow attached to a player, follow him throughout the season, and cheer for his every at-bat, to then not like what you see of him in the off season when he has taken off the uniform. This wasn't the case for Stan.


In 1941, America entered war with Japan. At home, baseball played on, and our young boys were sent out across the world. In 1943-1944, Stan Musial and many others were part of a USO sponsored group that traveled to Alaska and the Aleutian Islands entertaining troops. In 1945, Stan himself joined the US Navy. As an American citizen, I can't express how touched I am that Stan left his career for a year to serve his country. He could easily have joined the Army, stayed close to home, and played ball. Instead, he did what he felt he should do. I respect the heck out of anyone that can make a decision like that, and end up in a military uniform, far from home. Although he never saw combat, Stan wore than uniform with pride and served his country in the best way, in any way it needed him. He was later honorarily discharged in March of 1946.

The main thing, though, that caught my eye while reading the article, was how incredibly generous he was with his time and the patience he had for his fans. I'll be the first to admit I'm not a people person, which is why I will some day get kicked out of a Cardinals game for mouthing the idiot behind me who doesn't have a clue of what he's talking about. So, to read about how he would stop in his tracks to sign autographs for a young fan, or pose for a picture from the various newspaper reporters surrounding him, was fairly shocking. At one point in the article it was written that a fan about the age of 15 held up a sign in the audience that read, "Stan For Pres!" The sign made him laugh, so he walked over and signed it. The kid didn't even ask. I've been watching our current players all year, and as wonderful as they all are, I've only seen one player do exactly those same things. That player being, Colby Rasmus. Maybe Stan gave him a few pointers last year?

Last Saturday the St. Louis Cardinals held an event called "Stand For Stan" where the entire stadium was to stand in the 6th inning to honor Stan Musial as he made his trip around the stadium. Each fan got their own "Flat Stan's" to wave as he strode by. This was an effort to show President Obama how much Stan means to so many people, and to prove why he should be awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

That morning I sat on the couch in my pajamas, barely awake enough to follow the game. Lohse was pitching anyway, I didn't expect anything earth-shattering. I made some coffee and reminisced with my fellow tweeps about the fun times as the pregame rolled around. The first half went by fairly quickly and Lohse was having his best start of the year, when the 6th inning finally arrived. The entire stadium of 40,000+ stood in silence and waved their individual Flat Stan's as The Man was chauffeured around the track, being applauded the entire time. Even the visiting team, the Colorado Rockies, knew what a great man Stan Musial was and stood outside the dugout, some even holding their own Flat Stan's. I'm not ashamed to admit I teared up when I saw the Rockies shaking hands with Stan, a smile on his face the entire time. It's one thing for the entire Cardinal nation to love him, but for the visiting team to recognize what an inspiring man he was, that's saying something.

These are my reasons why Stan Musial truly is The Man.

Why School Never Mattered

It's true. For me, anyway.

Ever since I was little, I never felt like school was 'the place for me'. There were different reasons for all the stages of growing up, but there were reasons nonetheless. I mostly didn't fit in when I was younger and became quite the 'follower'. I was always too afraid to speak up, too afraid to stand up for myself, and to afraid to stand for something other than myself. I desperately admired those who knew how to do all of those things. I was "that kid"...the one in the corner of the playground, playing in the dirt by herself. I remember a time when I was in junior high, I was sitting at my grandma's house talking about school with my Uncle Steven and cousin, Whitney. I don't remember what brought up the subject but I do remember saying, "I'm not a leader, I'm a follower". I originally meant it to be a joke, but then I realized no one was laughing. Whitney looked at me and said, "You better take care of that, because that'll get you in a lot of trouble later in life." That's when it hit me, I needed to make a change.

I always had that big brother who was 'the cool kid' in school. Trouble maker, too, but we wont get into that. He was the outgoing one, he was the funny one, and he was the one to march to the beat of his own drum. Truthfully, I thought he was the coolest guy around, even if he did beat me up on a regular basis. ;) His Senior year was really a turning point for both of us. He had gotten into a lot of trouble not only at school, but at home as well...forcing him to stay home for a large majority of his free time. Through that, we became much closer. His boredom = he will talk to anyone, including his little sister. Talking to him gave me a little more boost of confidence & I was talking more at school. A friend of mine (well, we were all friends in JH, there's only 50 in my class) got kicked off what was labeled the "cool table" and started sitting with me during lunch. We had a blast, she eventually shattered my shell I had been hiding in for 12 years, and turned me into a new person. I was loud, obnoxious, and started to get in a lot of trouble for talking in class (or laughing too much, most of the time in tears...like I said, obnoxious).

That summer my neighbor packed a bunch of us in her van for a week-long trip to VBS every day. I'd been doing this every year since I was 2, it was pretty normal. But that summer was different, I was introduced to new music that would eventually change my life forever, and I mean that in the most serious way possible. I'd gone to church since I was little, but never had I really experienced God like that summer, in the living room of that old empty house as we sat in a circle and read bible stories. I gave my life to God two days after "graduating" Junior High.

After much refusal, I finally joined the myspace craze sometime just after then. I was addicted, like so many others. One particular day in school, I precisely remember. We watched Channel One in one of my classes and they were interviewing a band named Switchfoot & played their new single called "Stars"...I was hooked immediately. I forced my mom to buy their CD after work the next day. Needless to say I fell in love, and rocked out to Switchfoot all day long. While bored one night, I was looking at my best friend from junior high's sister's myspace page. I found on there, a girl named Kristina who posted pictures of her with different members of Switchfoot. I added her as quick as I could, like the creeper I was.

We talked. Became myspace buds. Found each other at a local Christian concert, and have never left each others side since. I never really knew Switchfoot like she did. I was a newbie, but she opened my eyes to what great people they were, and what their songs really meant. You may think, "where is this going, and what does it have to do with school?" Be patient, I'm getting there.

Through this band Kris and I have become much better Christians (by awesome examples named Jon Foreman, Tim Foreman, Drew Shirley, Chad Butler, and Jerome Fontamillas). Also through his band, we were introduced to a little organization called To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA for short). TWLOHA is a non-profit organization dedicated to finding hope. Strengthening those who are weighed down by depression, addiction, or self-injury. This organization helped me realize there was more to life than "getting through" it all. I wanted to love, and I wanted to live.

...still getting there, bear with me.

I had a lot of normal high school crap to deal with in those days, but it was less about the drama, and more about the worrying. I've always been a worry wart. Always have been, always will be. But things got bad my freshman year. I was so stressed about everything (that truthfully didn't matter), I physically couldn't eat for three days. Believe me, I wanted to, but I had caused my body so much stress that my throat was so swollen I could barely choke down applesauce, my chest hurt constantly and I couldn't sleep. I realized I couldn't take it on my own, and turned to my bible. I prayed that God would show me the right passage to just get me through the night. I opened my bible to a random page. Luke 12:22-34 stared me right in the face. "Do Not Worry" I suggest you read that one for yourself, its incredible. My favorite verses are 24&25: "Consider the ravens: they do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" I slept like a baby that night, and my throat was perfectly fine the next day.

Through that verse, through TWLOHA, through the summer of VBS, and through an incredible person who released me from myself, I realized that there's more to life. I stopped worrying about every little thing. I mean, I still worry about a lot, but nothing compared to what I used to do. I give it all to God, now. While everyone spent their Junior and Senior years of high school worrying about what they were going to do, I sat back and watched. I knew what I wanted to do, sure, but if I felt God wanted me somewhere else, I would (and will) pick up in a heart beat and start all over.

I've always wanted to help people in some way or another. I've never felt it fair that people are labeled the "undesirables" because of their weaknesses. We're a part of an adapting species, and some of us are slower to reaching Maslow's hierarchy of needs (that one was for the Psychologist in me) than others. I've always pictured myself working for an organization like TWLOHA or other multiple, wonderful organizations I'm too tired to list at the moment. The point is, ever since I was introduced to those wonderful influences, I've felt like serving others was my main priority. School will always be less than that. Nothing will ever change my mind. I wont worry.