SO, YOU WANT TO BE A FIRST BASE COACH, EH?
Seeing the recent TV video of an incident in the first base coaching box at Comiskey Park, home of the Chicago White Sox baseball team, is more than disgusting to
me. But it does conjure up a great memory about coaching.
In case you missed it, some idiot JERK and his idiot jerk SON came out of the stands, and tag-team attacked, of all people, the first-base coach of the
visiting Kansas City Royals. In the aftermath of the attack, a knife was found on the ground, and the coach was bloodied but standing, and wondering why me?... the first
base coach of all people.
"I was mad the White Sox were losing," said the JERK. Well here's a news flash, pal. The only way you'll ever see the White Sox again will be on the day room TV in the Cook
County jail. Oh, and I bet you find a couple of new "sports" in that day room, too, freak. OK...enough. We've gotten WAY too serious about sports. Here's the way it 'oughta
be!
MY GREAT COACHING MEMORY...
Yes, I too was a first base coach more years ago than I care to remember. Or, was it third base ... I can't recall ... but I DO remember helping coach a female
softball team - a group of the most delightful women you could ever find, anywhere. During the day, these ladies were tops in their field - advertising, marketing, the law,
business ownership, you name it. But at their weekly game, they were the "HOT TOMATOES" - a reference to the sponsor, a local Italian restaurant.
The first "season", as I recall, was eight games. Eight nights of skinned shins and blisters and infield fly rules and great attitudes. And, well, a loss here and
there ... well ... OK ... EIGHT losses, but hey, great attitudes, right? "Let's play another year!"
With the second season came seven more losses, leading up to that eighth and pivotal final game. I do believe the Softball Gods took notice, because finally, something just
'clicked', or the moon crossed the vertical path of Nova FooFoo, or something ... but the team WON. The HOT TOMATOES WON A GAME. It headlined every PR publication in town. It was
huge.
And, realistically, it was a lot more than "huge". It was what sport is supposed to be - a coming together, not some JERK attacking the first base coach because his
team isn't winning! The TOMATOES were the real thing. The real winners. It's a nice memory.
HAVE A GOOD WEEK, EVERYONE...
O'C
