I’M A PROUD Atlanta Braves fan.
My home is in the middle of what the team markets as “Braves Country.”
I’m ready to see another World Series win as much as anybody who’s ever done the tomahawk chop.
Tonight, I thought I’d write a little letter to some other members of Atlanta’s fan base.
GREEN IS GREAT.
It’s not my favorite color, but it’s associated with some of my favorite things.
Grass on baseball and football fields.
It’s time for me to go to sleep so I can go to work and make some more green.
This post is a response to Sue’s prompt, which is, “green.”
THE PRESENT PRESENTS some unique challenges.
I know the above sentence is an understatement, with coronavirus uncertainty and all of the other uncertain things in the world these days.
Today was the kind of news day which makes me breathe a sigh of relief I didn’t have to cover it, just because newsrooms were probably even busier than normal.
A HOME RUN of the walk-off variety happened tonight, and it brought back memories.
WHEN A BASEBALL or softball game is over, there are winners and there are players who can’t win for losing.
There’s another person, though, who’s quite familiar with the can’t-win-for-losing feeling.
ORIGINALLY, I PLANNED to write this column about San Francisco Giants relief pitcher Sam Coonrod.
I had never heard of Coonrod until a few days ago, when he made headlines for standing while his teammates kneeled for a Black Lives Matter ceremony.
SOUNDS ARE ABUNDANT.
Tonight, when I went outside to cut my fingernails, they were everywhere.
The frogs made sounds.
The bugs made plenty.
The owls cranked up their calls.
Even the clippers made noise.
It was like everything had its place in the symphony of the night.
We have come to the end of another month so I thought now would be as good a time as any to go on a written journey back through the days of June.
Some people take pride in every chance to relive their glory days, to tell their children tales of days gone by and often remembered.
Some tell stories of incredible athletic feats of yesteryear, and back them up with testimonies from old teammates they see in Wal-Mart or moments frozen forever in framed photographs on the walls of hometown restaurants.
Those stories take them to a time before their backs hurt, before they worked long hours to pay for mortgaged houses.
They take them back to when they had all of the time in the world, when they lived for Friday nights and thought they were invincible. (more…)
Here we sit, on the verge of another all-star baseball and softball experience. (more…)