The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘baseball’

Colorado Rockies (Baseball)

This past weekend I caught my first Rockies game (thanks pops!) and here for your viewing pleasure is the fading sky during the course of a 6:40 – ~9:40 pm game.

Rockies Stadium 1


Rockies Stadium 2


Rockies Stadium 3


And with a special filter type thing applied.

Rockies Stadium - Other

Attn: Ellen (10/19/16)



Back (apologies for my handwriting!)


The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

With baseball postseason here, or as I call it, ‘even more baseball,’ I’ve got a proposal to improve attendance for MLB’s 726 game season.

Have someone come out with a 9-sided die, roll it, and that’s how many innings the game will be.


“Hey honey, want to watch a bunch of guys stand around for 2 hours, 45 minutes, and sprint randomly for 15 minutes?”

With my improvement:

“Hey honey, want to watch a few innings of baseball, AND get hot dogs!?!”

I’m available for consulting, MLB.

Sincerely, OR @DumbFunnery

Why am I doing this?

Continuing on the Path of the Toast

(Obviously the spoken version deviated a bit, you know, nerves and all that.)

An Apology to my Future Potential Children

I imagine it might be confusing to listen to me apologize to hypothetical people.

Why, you might be asking, am I apologizing? Apologizing for something I haven’t yet done? Shouldn’t I just NOT do these things I need to apologize for?

Good questions. All very good. Allow me to tell you a story.

When I was in the 7th grade my dad came down to the basement where I was playing video games and said, “let’s play a baseball game.” I imagine that this statement was preceded by a brief conversation between my dad and mom, “You need to spend more time with DumbFunnery.” And my dad, in an eloquent response, probably said, “mm.”

There we were, in the basement, playing this baseball game.

I don’t remember too many different times that we sat there and played because each instance was so much like the other instances. Part of that was because my dad and I are routine-oriented people. But this one particular night stands out because of something I realized.

My dad was up to bat and doing his usual thing. Letting the first pitch go by while he sipped a beer. He never told me to do the same thing, but it was implied by him explaining his strategy, “you have to let the starting pitcher wear himself down. Get the pitch count up.” If you swing on the first pitch and get out, this pitcher will be fresh as a daisy and that’s no good. The second pitch would go by and one more sip might be taken. And if I didn’t follow the strategy, he would explain it again. And again. It’s a pretty effective way to get your point across.

The third pitch was pretty much always a ball because the game had a predictable AI. And finally on the fourth pitch my dad would swing, often resulting in an, “AGH!” Which meant he struck out, popped out, grounded out, whatever it was .. he was out.

On this particular night my 7th grade brain was feeling cocky. I thought to myself, “he sounds like a monkey with those crazy noises he makes.” And I just knew I was about to get a hit.

I let pitch one go by. Pitch two comes, I keep with my dad’s strategy, pitch three is of course a ball and pitch four … “AGH!”


I just made the EXACT same noise. I had limitless options but I chose the exact same approach, and when the opportunity came it resulted in the exact same thing.

I. Am. My. Dad. This was heavy news for my 7th grade brain.

Therefore, I am very qualified to apologize to hypothetical future kids – because I have been the annoyee, and now I am the annoyer. I have tried to avoid some of these things … but I think for some it’s hard-coded, and for others it’s just going to come so naturally to me I won’t realize something was frustrating til years later.

In light of the fact that I know some of my future – I’d like to go ahead and apologize for three particular things.

From as far back as I can remember until my senior year of high-school, I can tell you exactly how the morning routine went. Remember how my dad and I are routine-oriented people? I’d wake up, my dad would’ve already been awake for an hour or more, and he’d say cheerily, “good morning!” and I’d say in response, “num-morning.” Usually following that my dad would do an impression of me and then laugh. And occasionally I might be treated to a , “what’s for breakfast? Cereal? Sounds pretty good!”

My freshman year of college a switch flipped. Suddenly I couldn’t be a chipper and enthusiastic enough morning person. Late to class? Woah buddy, better hustle huh? Dribbled while eating cereal in the cafeteria with me? Hey there mister, you missed your mouth!

And it’s only grown stronger. My wife, when she was growing up, had nicknames like “prickly pear” and “thundercloud.” Do you know who loves to bug her in the mornings? ME.

I … “apologize,” I suppose, for the inevitable obnoxious doses of good cheer and happiness in the mornings.

Secondly, I’d like to apologize for my phrasing. Do you know that experience when someone says something serious and you should listen attentively and respond sincerely with something intelligent … but instead you thought of a joke. And not just any joke, but something like a pun? The kind of joke that’s so bad it’s good? And who are you to deny that person this brilliant joke? So instead of something nice you say that joke?

You know that kind of … heavy, frustrated, silence? I know that. I really know that.

And my kids will know that too. Because at some point they’re going to say something where I should respond with something intelligent, and instead I’m going to crack a joke. But I also know the sound of my name being said in such a way that I get it IMMEDIATELY. My wife has crafted a tone of voice that communicates ever so clearly, “I appreciate your sense of humor, it’s one of the reasons we’re married, BUT. NOT. NOW.”

Last up … emotions. I know. They’re scary.

I am capable of experiencing emotions. In fact, at different points in my life, I have experienced all five three. Just kidding, I know there are only two.

I’m going to be Mr. Even Keel, and if there is something emotionally-charged to talk about, my wife will be a much better audience. That doesn’t mean I can’t listen or that I don’t want to listen, it’s just that I might say something like a heartfelt, “sorry buddy” in response to a big, long, emotional story. Whereas my wife’s eyes will reflect every emotion, her jaw will drop, she’ll throw in an occasional “NO!” while you talk about something awful.

I’m going to work on that, I’m going to try and be there for you emotionally … But that’s not going to come easy for me. But just know that I will comfort you in my own ways. I’ll crack dumb jokes, I’ll be silly or a clown for you, because that’s going to be easier and much more natural for me than finding the right words to comfort you.

Heck, I don’t even know those words for myself, but I do know about ice cream. And so will you.

Why the speech, then? Why bother apologizing for things that I’m sort of, kind of, not actually apologizing for at all?

Why apologize for my chipper am self? For laughing as I watch kids make their way to the kitchen, mummy-like, seemingly having just arisen from the grave?

Why apologize for my sometimes unwanted quips for all occasions?

Why apologize for stumbling through emotions and being an emotionally reticent person in general?

Well, it’s because I truly AM sorry for the times these parts of me will be annoying.

In the end, I want to be a good person, which will hopefully one day include trying to be a good dad, and this is the way I was taught to do it, and I happened to like my teachers.

Attn: Ellen (7/16/14)


Ellen DeGeneres postcard

Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

Ellen DeGeneres postcard

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

Now that the World Cup is over, what sport should Americans pay a marginal amount of attention to? Baseball of course!

Baseball answers all of the important summertime questions like

1) Just how bored am I?

2) Is there anything worse on TV than this infomercial?

3) How is grandpa taking another nap on the couch?

Let’s hear it for America’s favorite pastime, a sport that inspires daydreams and a love of stadiums with wi-fi. Oh look, since I started writing this the pitcher threw a strike! Hooray!


Why am I doing this?

Which Sport is Best?

It’s impossible to say which sport is best because it’s a purely subjective matter. But here’s one thing we can all agree on – attractiveness. With that in mind, it’s easy to determine which sport is best by an attractive representative from each sport.

I looked for countless hours at the most attractive athletes from soccer, football, and baseball and found that the sports come to a surprising draw with not a single attractive athlete. I know, I’m surprised too. From there I went to the next obvious choice: the referees.


Pierluigi Collina – Soccer

Soccer Referee

Pierluidi’s calling you out … for a candle-lit dinner.

Gene Steratore – NFL

NFL Referee

Gene wants you to know he’d never call you encroachment on your sexual advances.


Jim Joyce – Baseball

Baseball Referee

Jim caught a look in the mirror … Obviously, what he saw was jaw-dropping.

Now that you’ve seen a representative referee for these sports you will undoubtedly come to the same conclusion as myself: we, the fans, are the winners because we get to witness them in action every game.

Baseball Walk Out Songs

Normal Walk Out Song

Fairly High Pressure Situation (let’s say 2 outs, runner in scoring position)

HIGH PRESSURE – Bottom of the 9th, 2 outs, down by 1 run!

If the Pitcher or Opposing Coach is Named Dave

I would be such a great baseball player for the fans, but AWFUL for the team.

Baseball and Men’s Emotional Depth

“What do you guys talk about for three hours anyway? Plus the drive there and back!”
– My Mom

Ok people of the world who know a son/father or sons/father or gaggle of fellas who attend baseball games and you (the non-attendee) wish to know just what it is that they talk about during the game … Here’s the scoop!

To be honest we don’t talk much. But, like a poet or Ernest Hemingway, what we say is fraught with meaning. At any given time in the summer and early fall, in baseball stadiums across America (and a few places in Canada) the air is thick with symbolism and statements that are seemingly plain but are actually metaphors for life.

That guy is throwing nothing but strikes.

Translation: Right now life is treating me right – I’m putting in the hard work and things are finally paying off. Frankly, I’m feeling like pretty hot stuff these days.

OR: The pitcher is throwing a lot of strikes.

He really whiffed on that one.

Translation: Whatever your current big ticket item in your life is (job, girlfriend, some recent big decision) – the person saying this line urges you to reconsider. If you think that it is best, he will support you, his feelings have been made clear and he’s ready to move on.

OR: The guy at bat just got made to look foolish on his last swing.

I love watching that guy play. He has so much fun out there!

Translation: I’m proud of you and the decisions you’ve made to get you where you are. You’ve put in the work and I want you to remember to enjoy the fruits of those labors.

OR: That baseball player finds a reason to get his uniform covered in dirt every game and who can’t help but respect that?

There you have it non-attendees, that is what is happening at every game. It’s a simple case of emotions expressed via fairly obvious observational statements. Knowing this, you can now realize that ESPN is the most emotional place on Earth, because it is the capitol of stating the obvious.

Also worth noting, the baseball-loving, emotionally tight-lipped friends in your life will become a little more emotionally distant these next few months after the World Series ends … So take the opportunity to talk about emotions with those people during game 6 (and possibly 7).

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