In the Tank

I could see it coming, another loss for the Americans in the Ryder Cup. My brothers and I talked about the Ryder Cup on our last podcast and we wondered if Tiger could lead this team to victory. My brothers felt that he could, I was a little more pessimistic, and I proved to be right.

First to address Tiger. I firmly believe that in order to be a leader you have to at least have some of the basic traits and I am not sure that Tiger does to be an effective leader, especially in this situation, one that he is not accustomed to. Plus I am not sure how much of leader you can be on a golf team. In other team sports you can be a leader because you have others on the field with you to lead. In golf you can lead your twosome and that is about it. I believe the coach or captain has more of a leadership role/influence than any one player. This is all you need to know about Tiger's leading abilities . . . first hole, first day, first shot off the tee, Tiger goes in the water. What that told me, and I knew it at that moment, things weren't going to be different and that the Americans would struggle all weekend.


Now what's the overall problem? I don't know. Here are at least some observations:
1. The Euros were playing out of their minds. I saw at least 4 chip-ins to win holes on Saturday morning and they seemed to get all the breaks and make all of the shots they needed to. So first you have to credit the Euros with great play.

2. Secondly, the Americans made no shots. Every time the Americans had a chance to win a hole they couldn't get the ball to drop, or they opened the door for the Euros to walk through and they did.

3. No strong play from the "All-Stars." Tiger went 3-2, Phil went 0-4-1 and Furyk was 2-3-0, enough said. When guys like Scott Verplank, J.J. Henry and Zach Johnson are playing the best golf. You are in trouble.

4. The Euros have the better players overall that love this format and strive in this type of environment. Sergio is the perfect example put him paired with Tiger on the last round of any major tournament and he folds like a 2-7 hand in Texas Hold Em but place him anywhere near a Ryder Cup match and he is out of his mind going 4-0 over the weekend and overall is 14-3-2 in Ryder Cup.

The US team got thrashed. They all tanked as far as I am concerned. No one showed up and they should be embarrassed as a whole of their performance and their representation of the US. To me I am far more outraged over this loss than I am over the USA basketball team losing in the WBC. At least team USA basketball played hard and showed up. This US Ryder Cup team should be ashamed of their performance and US golf fans should be up in arms over such a lack luster and unmotivated performance from our players.

Take it Back

I want to weigh in on the Oklahoma/Oregon game briefly.

Now my brother Trent did a very good job of going over this in his “Bar Room Chatter” episode for our Brothers in 3-Z podcast, and this was before the fall out of everyone in Oklahoma from the Governor to the Owner of Haircuts by Bob on Sooner Avenue in Stillwater cried about making the game not count.

Excuse me? Not count? Seriously, people were saying this? I understood and heard the outrage from most broadcasters and commentators, but the silliest thing I have heard was that the game shouldn’t count. Come on! It’s not like in 3rd grade and the kick ball was called foul by your 75 year old farsighted recess teacher and you called “Do-over.” This is major college football and the notion to even float out there that this game somehow shouldn’t count is so ridicules that it is unbelievable to me that anyone would utter those words.

If we started to not count games that we thought there was poor officiating in, I might be the first in line to say that the Steelers shouldn’t have one the Super Bowl, or that the Dallas Mavericks got screwed in the NBA Finals . . . “Those games don’t count! Bad call, I want a do-over or I am going home.” Pout pout.

Everyone in Oklahoma, listen closely . . . . SHUT UP. You aren’t the first team to get screwed (and oh by the way, yea you still should have stopped them from scoring after the bad call), and you won’t be the last. So please quit your whining and go back to playing mediocre football in the 6th best conference in the country.

Owen Shorts

Owen was sitting on my lap as we were flipping through photos from his 3rd birthday. We get to the one above and I ask Owen, “Why are you not happy in this photo?”

He looks at me and says, “Because I don’t like that hat and I don’t like to wear it.”

Really? I couldn’t tell.

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Owen and I were eating burgers and fries and he had placed his hand in the ketchup and was “finger painting” his tray on his high chair. I gave him a look hoping he would stop.

“Daddy, are you happy or sad?”

“I am sad Owen, you aren’t supposed to play with your food.”

He looked at me, and I could tell he knew I wasn’t happy.

“You not happy Daddy?”

“No Owen I am not happy.”

Then with a smile and a charm he looked at me and said. “Come on Daddy, give me a smile.”

I had to walk into the next room so I could crack up silently.

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Owen is taking tumbling classes (not gymnastics, but tumbling classes). And at the end of the class they were playing Duck, Duck, Goose (which he has never played before).

Now Owen loves a little pretend as he is always pretending to be a cat or a dog or a character from TV, and so he seemed really interested in this game and watched very closely as the instructors tried to teach it.

The third person to be the “goose” was the instructor, and I knew they were going to pick Owen, so Renea and I were curious as to whether or not he would catch on with the game. She went around “duck, duck, duck.” Then she got to Owen . . . “Goose!” She tapped him on the head and started to run around the circle and he looked at her and said in all seriousness, “I am NOT a goose, I am a kitty.” And proceeded to crawl on all fours meowing and chasing after the instructor

Late, Late, Late Update on the All-Star Game

More Photos

There are many reasons this blog hasn't been updated in awhile, 1. been busy with everything else that life brings and 2. haven't been motivated to write and 3. A few weeks ago a friend of mine (who I work with) reminded me that anyone at my place of employment could read my blog and be offended by some of the things I have said about my job and my employeer, and since then I just haven't had the same desire to write as I once had. So anyway I am writing again and here is the final update from the All-Star game that happened over 2 months ago.

July 9th
I drove up to Morgantown and used my Dad’s place as a base for all my All Star operations. We looked at what would be the best ways into Pittsburgh with all of the traffic. We decided that taking the “T” from South Hills Village, which is about 15 miles north of Washington, into the city would be the best option. With that game plan set, I went to bed early and ready to start my All Star day.

July 10th
I drove to South Hills Village, found the train station, paid $2.25 to ride the train all the way into downtown Pittsburgh and was on my way. The train ride took about 30-40 minutes, but well worth the price. Got to downtown, headed down to the Convention Center. Went over to FanFest to spend the afternoon seeing things and doing things. The place was neat and there would have been a lot of fun stuff to do if I was a kid between the ages of 6-12, but for me there really wasn’t a lot for me to do. I don’t collect autographs so the collectable vendors weren’t for me and I was too old/too big to be jumping into batting cages and either throwing or hitting pitches. It was fun to watch other people, but even that got old after awhile.

After FanFest I went to my assigned work station with MLB Productions. I got to the room at the Hilton on time. My assigned time to work was from 4:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m., so I knew there would be stuff going on since this was during the Home Run Derby so I was ready. I met two people from MLB (Shannon and Andrea) both very nice people. They informed me that they might not need me for that long this evening and I could sit down, grab a Gatorade, and they would let me know what my duties would be in a few.

After watching some Law and Order, they told me that they were going to “freshen up” and then head over to PNC Park and it would be great if I could answer the phones.

Sure, easy enough for me I can answer phones! They gave me a list of all MLB staff and if someone needed to call someone on that list I was to give them the correct number. I was on it . . . Secretary Ryan on duty!

I sat there for the next hour with a couple of MLB corporates who were checking e-mail and we all watched PTI. They soon left and it was just I manning the control center. About 6:00 p.m. the phone rings . . . I am “on.”

“MLB Productions.”

“Is this Ryan?”
“Yes. How can I help you?”

“Ryan, this is Shannon (from MLB) if no one is there by 6:30 p.m. you can you lock up the room and head out if you want.”

“Ok. You sure that is all?”

“Yep. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

So I knew this could only mean trouble for me. The Home Run Derby, I am 2 blocks and a bridge away from the stadium. I could get into an expensive night.

I left the office at 6:30 p.m. and walked over to PNC to see if I could scalp a Derby ticket. How bad could they be going for? $65? $75? Face value on these tickets was $125. Amazing for a home run derby, especially when the most fun to be had was outside the ballpark. So I tried to scalp some tickets outside the park, but they were all going for way too much (most were at $125) so I thought, take my $125 and head over to a bar and spend about $10 and be ahead $115. I walked over to SoHo, this neat bar across from PNC Park, met some new friends, and had a good time sitting there and chatting with them. I watched the derby on the flat screens, then headed back to the train and was in Morgantown by 2:00 a.m.

July 11th
All-Star Game Day! I was excited. I headed back up and took the train in again. Spent more time at FanFest (one day was definitely enough) and headed over to my shift again at the Hilton to work with MLB.

I get over there and they are getting things ready for the game and one of the MLB staff is Andrea (from the day before) and we chit-chat for a few. She tells me about life with MLB and how she can get tickets to any game in any city and that she hasn’t had a chance to see her beloved Mets yet this year because she has been too busy. It is a good friendly conversation and one I hope might turn into letting me hang out at the stadium during my volunteer time.

Andrea tells me that we need to take some equipment over to the stadium around 5:30 p.m. and that she (and other MLB employees) have been allotted some tickets to the game and she might have one for me. I try to play it cool and tell her, “Oh that would be nice.” And she tells me she isn’t sure; so don’t necessarily count on it. I nod and say that I understand. Andrea leaves and says she will be back soon and then we will head over to PNC.

At this moment I can’t pull my cell phone out of my pocket fast enough to call Renea to tell her that I have a real possibility of attending the All-Star game. Renea is excited, but she keeps me from getting my hopes up too much. I scramble to get off the phone; I don’t want Andrea to catch me telling someone I think I am going to the game.

So after a few minutes Andrea comes back. Her, a PA (high school student/volunteer) and myself start to carry bags of equipment over to the Park. We stop on the Clemente bridge and I take a picture for them of them standing on the bridge with the park in the background. We make small talk as we head over, Andrea telling me how Ryan Howard, the homerun derby champ was left at PNC park without a ride back to the hotel after the derby, and me telling her about my exciting 2 days at FanFest.

As we pass the Willie Stargell statute (where by-the-way, is where my brick from my 30th birthday resides, 7 bricks down from Willie’s left foot, check it out when you are there) Andrea pulls from her manila envelope a shiny All-Star Game ticket and hands it to me.

“You aren’t going to sell this are you?”

“No way.”

“Good cause MLB can trace this back to me if you sell it.”

“Nope I am going to use it, thank you.”

I am flipping out at this point but trying to maintain calm. I shove the ticket deep into my pocket so not to lose it. I help them all the way around the stadium to where the equipment needs to go, again thanking Andrea for her kindness, then walking away feeling like I have pulled the greatest con ever.

The game was great, if you watched it came down to the ninth inning and a blown save by Trevor Hoffman, and my seats were down the right field line (check the photo gallery). I had a great time and felt a little bad as I walked around the stadium looking at other volunteers that were working parking and taking tickets and knowing I was going to the game for a little more than 2 hours “work” and they weren’t, but I got over it quickly.

This will probably be the last time in my lifetime that the game will be in Pittsburgh and I am glad that I had the chance to participate in an experience I will never forget.