Good Morning Ladies and Germs cohabitating with me and my good bacteria,
I found out pretty early on as a kid that I loved playing sports. I didn't have any illusions about being a great player, however, despite my name. I did learn that if you were always looking for an opportunity to use the skill you did have it could turn out to be pretty valuable. In elementary and middle school I played organized baseball, basketball, and flag football. I also played little league baseball and pony leagues (The so-called Babe Ruth leagues for older kids later on). It was a lot of fun and gave me something to look forward to each week. I had to go looking for a way to play however because it seemed as if whenever I went out for a school-sanctioned team I never made it past tryouts.
I remember thinking I was finally learning to get the game of basketball as part of a team and it turned out it was because I could get in the way, fairly easily. I didn't score all that much but I was a good disruptor, I once had a coach tell me that I was the best "Road Block", he ever coached or played with. I took it as a compliment, although I know now what he was actually saying was I was an obstacle and I could get in the way like nobody else, In other words, I was fat. Hell, I already knew that, so it really didn't bother me all that much and I decided to use it to my advantage. I was proud of that nickname and even had it put on the back of a jersey one time.
See, I had this skill, if you can call it that, the other kids didn't have. I had three older brothers and could take an impact and it didn't bother me too much to be hit. I learned to fight at a young age and could take a punch too, so if you ran into me I would just look at you. Usually, if you ran into me, it was before you realized I was there and it would stop you dead in your tracks, and usually, if we were playing basketball for example you would lose control of the ball.
Since that was what I was going for but I knew I wasn't fast enough to reach in and get it, other kids didn't think twice about me stealing the ball from them. Once they understood that I was going to be in the way all night, they would generally avoid me. See that worked to my team's advantage because if you deny the other team a portion of the floor then it was a little easier to control them.
It was the same way in soccer, I wasn't the fastest kid on the field, but nobody liked running into me. They would be flat on their butts and I would be smiling at them. That's what they hated most of all, that never-ending sweet n sickly smile. See that was my secret, I never got mad, I never yelled at anyone for it, I never pushed anyone. I just let them impact my body and then smile. They would get pissed and it screwed up their game and I had fun messing with them.
Anyway playing basketball I wasn't a scorer and I couldn't really rebound, unless it was accidental because let's face it, you try getting this heft off of the floor and into the air, so that wasn't going to be my skill. I could get in your way and make you have to try and go around me which wasn't easy because you had a guy guarding you too that was usually more athletic than me and when you least expected it, BLAM there I am in your face and you are on the floor. I probably also set hundreds of thousands of moving picks but never really got called on it because that would have made for one boring game. It was all I had too, so I used it as often as I could.
I was an NBA pro ballplayer at getting in your way. I can still hear the coach saying "Jordan, keep cutting through the middle and keep getting in so and so's way, It's starting to piss him off." I was only too happy to oblige. It was my "skill" after all because I was the "Road Block". While playing football (you can see where this is going right?), Blocking for runners, rushing the passers, what fun.
So anyway, according to the pants manufacturers in America my size was what was called "Husky" or "Hefty", and that was my nickname for a long time, Hefty was a cool nickname, no one ever said it meanly at least not to my face because intimidation and bluffing didn't work with me. I never went out and looked for a fight and not bragging or anything, however, I really don't think, that I can recall ever started one either. The funny thing is after I fought once or twice and didn't engage in pushing matches no one ever wanted to fight me anymore. It wasn't that I was feared so much as I was no fun to pick on because it didn't work. To me, that was the objective, leave me alone asshole because if you don't you will be sorry you didn't.
Most kids are afraid of being punched. Not me, I didn't care go ahead and punch me, then when I get up and spit blood on you, and say "is that all you got"? It was on after that. No pushing, no shoving no yelling, just a couple of punches to the nose, a couple to the jaw, once or twice to the gut, and you were done. I knew how to box at least a little so it never took very long.
Baseball was another story altogether. I didn't have any speed to speak of, I had a decent glove, wasn't afraid of getting hit with the ball (I didn't like it, I mean who did?), so bad hops in the infield I could block with my body, but without speed, all of the skill positions in the infield (3B, SS, 2B) were sorta pointless as I could not get to the ball fast enough. I was a decent first baseman but our team wasn't great at throwing the ball to first base so that position went to the tallest guy on our team because he could stretch out and find the ball wherever they threw it.
So I became the Right Fielder and the backup catcher. I was actually OK with that because at least I got to play and didn't spend a lot of time on the wood. I played back-up catcher right up until the coach discovered how well I could take a runner impact at home plate during a game once and still came up with the ball. After that, I became "The Catcher". When the coach figured out I could hit too? Well, let's just say baseball got to be a pretty fun sport for me to play after that.
My older brother Bob was left-handed and was smart as hell. He taught me to bunt, how to hit left-handed pitching, that and a lot of batting cage time taught me and gave me repetitions that I used in games forever. I learned in one summer how to place the ball, how to poke it right where I wanted to hit it and how to adjust my hips and swing in order to hit to the opposite field too. Guess What? The "Road Block" was also a hitter!! I did not hit a lot of home runs, however, but I could put it where I wanted it to go, most of the time.
I remember there was this one kid in the league named Philip Miranda. He was a good looking kid, had girls just dripping off of him, knew he was good looking, was vain, and had THE HAIR. He was also a star pitcher in the league. He had big game stats and walked and talked and breathed like royalty. I guess in our little microcosm of the world he probably was.
Anyway, once in a game I really pissed him off because nobody could hit his curveball, except for me that is. He said to me during a game"Hit this one fatty", so I did, right back at his smirky face, he hit the dirt and got his uniform dirty. Man oh man, was he ever pissed off. I got to first base, looked over at him with my sweetest smile, and said "Hey Phil?, Like that?, Hit it like that?". Man, he was steaming hot, his face was red, and you could just tell he was upset with me just a tiny bit. See here is where my advantage came in to play. I knew what was coming, I mean, you know what he is going to do right?
On my next at-bat, he threw the ball right at me. I was supposed to duck, fall down into the dirt and he would get even with me for getting him dirty. Only Road Block was hitting. I let the ball hit me, took my base, and then smiled my asshole smile and grinned at him all the way to first base. Someone else hit the ball into the outfield and I ended up scoring and he was mad as hell. The next time he tried to throw me out with fastballs and I hit the ball in the gap, I ended up scoring again a batter or two later.
I had no idea that this was called baseball psychology until years later.
It was the best day ever.
- A man in my area was arrested yesterday. He is a brilliant idiot. Guess where he was arrested? That's right, at the liquor store. Guess what the charge was? That's right, Being drunk in public. Public Intoxication. Of course, he denied the charge saying "They never even gave me a sobriety test."
When the Police arrived they found the man trying to crawl away down the edge of the parking lot because he couldn't get to his feet. - Hasbro has announced they are selling an Animatronic talking Deadpool head toy.
I want one! - 21 States are now reporting a rise in Covid-19 cases, based on a rolling 7-day average. The highest demographic contributing to the rise in cases is reportedly the 18-25-year-old segment.
- PG&E in California has pleaded guilty to 84 cases of manslaughter in the 2018 Campfire that devasted Paradise Ca. Calling Erin Brockovich!
- The Golden Stae killer, that old bastard accused of being a serial rapist and burglar, and a serial killer has reportedly agreed to a plea bargain deal that keeps him off of death row. He will admit to the 13 rapes and murders and to dozens of burglaries he has committed and is even admitting to crimes he did but cannot be prosecuted for because the statute of limitations has ran out on them.
Good. I hope he gets a seat under the prison in the cold and dark section.
The bastard.
BigMike
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