Good morning, homepeople of the internets, and welcome yet again to UOPTA. No, that doesn't stand for "Un Oso Puede Tomar Agua," but es verdad. Otherwise, we'd be plagued with dehydrated bears in need of IVs to replenish their fluids, which would pose a whole new set of problems for the healthcare industry. Whew, that was a close one. Instead, friends, this UOPTA is where I write down some thoughts and stories and then wait to see what happens. Here goes! (Thanks for my favorite brother for supplying that UOPTA. You can get in on the action too just by writing to ptklein@gmail.com. And if you act now, I'll throw in my gratitude ABSOLUTELY FREE!)
As I've mentioned in this space many times since I started this here blog, I'm in fantasy leagues for both baseball and basketball. I've tried football once, but I don't follow that sport nearly as closely as I'd need to in order to succeed there, so I'm fine sticking with the two I know best. Well, we're at the tail end of the baseball league's playoffs right now (which I'm not in because I totally stunk it up this year), and the question of tie-breakers came up. We looked back to a post that Greg (The Pigh) had put on the message board back in March. In it, he wrote:
While he's also good at mainstream sports, my homey Rockabye has always excelled at the sports/games off the beaten path. He was the best of our group of friends at ping pong, frisbee golf, foosball, and even the arcade game where you need to make as many baskets as possible in the established timeframe. I have no proof, but I'd put my money on him winning a Skee-ball tournament if I arranged such an event.
Somewhere in between mainstream sports and the fringe arcade games lies racquetball. I enjoy racquetball, even though I have no innate skill at the game/sport. The first time I really tried it out was back in college. At our Recreation Center (or RecCen since everything needed to be shortened), there were a handful of indoor courts. Any current student could reserve a time in one of the courts, and I think it cost a whopping dollar to rent the paddles and balls. The only downside in my opinion was that the courts had clear plastic back walls, and so everyone on the treadmills and elliptical machines behind us could watch every play if they chose to. Therefore, I'd always opt for the last court in the row in hopes that fewer people would watch me. My homey Rockabye and I would play every once in a while, and it was quite a bit of fun. (By "play," I should point out that it was us hitting the ball around until he decided that he wanted to win that point and would therefore end the rally with a shot I had no chance at returning.) My lovely wife nee girlfriend and I played a couple of times as well, which always felt like a trap. I say that because if I tried my hardest, I'd win the majority of the points (which would frustrate her). However, if she thought for a second that I wasn't trying my hardest, that was a worse offense. We had a good time though; it was fun exercise, and most importantly, I never lost an eye.
Well, that same homey Rockabye just moved into a new condo complex a couple of weeks ago. When he walked me around the place before he was an official resident, he showed me that there were a few indoor racquetball courts by the gym in the complex. They're fairly run down, but they looked serviceable (especially for my ability level). I said it would be a lot of fun to do that for exercise and as a chance to hang out - even weekly if our schedules permitted. Just suggesting that made me feel a little old since I remember my dad playing that sport when I was younger, but I got over that quickly.
And so, earlier this week, we had our inaugural racquetball match. It had been over a decade since our last game, which astounds me. As I was leaving my house to meet up with him, my lovely wife said, "Have fun. Don't hurt yourself." I told her I would do my best on both counts.
I got to his place as he was finishing getting ready. "I don’t need the goggles, right?" I asked. He was already laughing, presumably because he remembered my...what's the opposite of prowess? We walked over to the courts and started hitting the ball around lightly as the overhead lights warmed up. Before long, we were playing and it all came back to me. It clearly came back to him too, because he remembered that I struggle mightily when the ball is in a certain place. As a lefty, when the serve is coming to me in the back right corner, I have to make a few quick decisions. Namely, "Do I hit my backhand now or do I wait for the bounce off the back wall?" I never decide that quickly enough, which means I either hit the wall with my racket, barely hit the ball and lose the point anyway, or freeze in my decision-making and watch it bounce a second time right in front of me. He cracked up every single time, until he finally took pity on me and hit the ball more to the middle of the court.
After a little while, he asked me (between laughs), "Do you think you were more graceful in college or now?" "College," I said. Then I swung and completely missed the ball as it came toward me. "College," I repeated. I reached down to get the ball that had just eluded me, and I looked up to find my old friend doubled-over in laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of being exceedingly graceful, and I came to terms with that a long time ago. He can't get enough of it though.
All in all, I heeded my lovely wife's two-pronged advice. I had fun and I didn't hurt myself (unless you count biting my cheek from mis-chewing gum). My left forearm was sore for a couple of days, but if we're able to play fairly regularly, that'll stop happening in no time. Who knows, maybe I'll even learn to return more than half of the serves over time. Hey, I can dream.
With that, let's bring our small, blue balls over to the Car Watch.
My lovely wife saw a license plate about which I have very mixed feelings. It read, "PUN GENT." Here's the rub: I like that the guy is a fan of puns and that he found a way to tell us that in the form of another existing word. I don't like that the word means, "Having a strong odor" to me. Does he also have a strong scent? If so, then it's perfect. (I just looked up the definition of "pungent," and I'm shocked. The first entry is: "Sharply painful." Not until definition 4B does it get to how I use it: "Having an intense flavor or odor." This makes me totally rethink ordering "Sweet and Pungent Chicken" next time we have Chinese food. I guess it's still catchier than "Sweet and Sharply Painful Chicken.")
I saw two plates that, by themselves, probably wouldn't warrant a mention here. However, they were right next to each other and it gave me pause. "NUDE ART," was on the left, and "LIBANON" was on the right. I realize it didn't say "Lebanon," but it was close enough that the juxtaposition made me laugh. If you asked me to name 20 countries that might be known for having nude art, I'm fairly certain I wouldn't get to Lebanon. If you said 50 though, I'd probably guess it at some point since I'm not sure how many countries I actually know. That would be an interesting exercise, but at a later date. Or never. I'll decide later.
And lastly, my homey Rockabye saw this bumper sticker: "Visualize using your turn signals." I find that funny for two very different reasons. First, it amuses me that someone wants to mock the "Visualize world peace" sentiment - either like this or with its cousin, "Visualize whirled peas." Aside from arms dealers and wartime contractors, are there people who don't like the concept of a planet in harmony, albeit highly improbable? Maybe. The other thing that I find funny is that this guy's talking to the wrong people. Presumably, he'd most like for the people in front of him to use their turn signals to indicate when they're changing lanes or turning. By nature of it being a bumper sticker, he's missing the meat of his target demographic. (And hey, you can't spell "target demographic" without Peter.)
Ok folks, that's it for me. I'll be back next week with more thoughts magically converted into word form. In the meantime, we've got ourselves some happies: Happy 2nd birthday today to little Nolan, who loves blueberries more than I ever thought humanly possible. Tomorrow, our friends Dusty and Mills are getting married, so please join me in wishing them the absolute best. If any of you atoners are fasting for Yom Kippur starting Sunday at sundown, I hope it goes quickly and easily. And Happy Birthday to longtime and loyal reader Sue on Thursday. I'm off, folks. Feel free to write me at ptklein@gmail.com, and be healthy and happy.
As I've mentioned in this space many times since I started this here blog, I'm in fantasy leagues for both baseball and basketball. I've tried football once, but I don't follow that sport nearly as closely as I'd need to in order to succeed there, so I'm fine sticking with the two I know best. Well, we're at the tail end of the baseball league's playoffs right now (which I'm not in because I totally stunk it up this year), and the question of tie-breakers came up. We looked back to a post that Greg (The Pigh) had put on the message board back in March. In it, he wrote:
In the event of a tie, the tie-breakers will be:I thought that was funny, and hoped to see a scenario that got us close to the bottom of the list. Well, we got closer than I anticipated, and it looked like it might get down to #4 on the list for a while. My homey Rockabye and his brother co-manage one of the teams in that close match-up, and he wrote, "If it ever gets to beer pong, you may as well put us in the championship...for we never lose at an alternative sport." The funny thing about that is that he's not really kidding.
1. head-to-head records
2. total runs scored
3. total wins (pitching)
4. total home runs
5. total strike outs
6. beer pong
7. steel cage match
While he's also good at mainstream sports, my homey Rockabye has always excelled at the sports/games off the beaten path. He was the best of our group of friends at ping pong, frisbee golf, foosball, and even the arcade game where you need to make as many baskets as possible in the established timeframe. I have no proof, but I'd put my money on him winning a Skee-ball tournament if I arranged such an event.
Somewhere in between mainstream sports and the fringe arcade games lies racquetball. I enjoy racquetball, even though I have no innate skill at the game/sport. The first time I really tried it out was back in college. At our Recreation Center (or RecCen since everything needed to be shortened), there were a handful of indoor courts. Any current student could reserve a time in one of the courts, and I think it cost a whopping dollar to rent the paddles and balls. The only downside in my opinion was that the courts had clear plastic back walls, and so everyone on the treadmills and elliptical machines behind us could watch every play if they chose to. Therefore, I'd always opt for the last court in the row in hopes that fewer people would watch me. My homey Rockabye and I would play every once in a while, and it was quite a bit of fun. (By "play," I should point out that it was us hitting the ball around until he decided that he wanted to win that point and would therefore end the rally with a shot I had no chance at returning.) My lovely wife nee girlfriend and I played a couple of times as well, which always felt like a trap. I say that because if I tried my hardest, I'd win the majority of the points (which would frustrate her). However, if she thought for a second that I wasn't trying my hardest, that was a worse offense. We had a good time though; it was fun exercise, and most importantly, I never lost an eye.
Well, that same homey Rockabye just moved into a new condo complex a couple of weeks ago. When he walked me around the place before he was an official resident, he showed me that there were a few indoor racquetball courts by the gym in the complex. They're fairly run down, but they looked serviceable (especially for my ability level). I said it would be a lot of fun to do that for exercise and as a chance to hang out - even weekly if our schedules permitted. Just suggesting that made me feel a little old since I remember my dad playing that sport when I was younger, but I got over that quickly.
And so, earlier this week, we had our inaugural racquetball match. It had been over a decade since our last game, which astounds me. As I was leaving my house to meet up with him, my lovely wife said, "Have fun. Don't hurt yourself." I told her I would do my best on both counts.
I got to his place as he was finishing getting ready. "I don’t need the goggles, right?" I asked. He was already laughing, presumably because he remembered my...what's the opposite of prowess? We walked over to the courts and started hitting the ball around lightly as the overhead lights warmed up. Before long, we were playing and it all came back to me. It clearly came back to him too, because he remembered that I struggle mightily when the ball is in a certain place. As a lefty, when the serve is coming to me in the back right corner, I have to make a few quick decisions. Namely, "Do I hit my backhand now or do I wait for the bounce off the back wall?" I never decide that quickly enough, which means I either hit the wall with my racket, barely hit the ball and lose the point anyway, or freeze in my decision-making and watch it bounce a second time right in front of me. He cracked up every single time, until he finally took pity on me and hit the ball more to the middle of the court.
After a little while, he asked me (between laughs), "Do you think you were more graceful in college or now?" "College," I said. Then I swung and completely missed the ball as it came toward me. "College," I repeated. I reached down to get the ball that had just eluded me, and I looked up to find my old friend doubled-over in laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of being exceedingly graceful, and I came to terms with that a long time ago. He can't get enough of it though.
All in all, I heeded my lovely wife's two-pronged advice. I had fun and I didn't hurt myself (unless you count biting my cheek from mis-chewing gum). My left forearm was sore for a couple of days, but if we're able to play fairly regularly, that'll stop happening in no time. Who knows, maybe I'll even learn to return more than half of the serves over time. Hey, I can dream.
With that, let's bring our small, blue balls over to the Car Watch.
My lovely wife saw a license plate about which I have very mixed feelings. It read, "PUN GENT." Here's the rub: I like that the guy is a fan of puns and that he found a way to tell us that in the form of another existing word. I don't like that the word means, "Having a strong odor" to me. Does he also have a strong scent? If so, then it's perfect. (I just looked up the definition of "pungent," and I'm shocked. The first entry is: "Sharply painful." Not until definition 4B does it get to how I use it: "Having an intense flavor or odor." This makes me totally rethink ordering "Sweet and Pungent Chicken" next time we have Chinese food. I guess it's still catchier than "Sweet and Sharply Painful Chicken.")
I saw two plates that, by themselves, probably wouldn't warrant a mention here. However, they were right next to each other and it gave me pause. "NUDE ART," was on the left, and "LIBANON" was on the right. I realize it didn't say "Lebanon," but it was close enough that the juxtaposition made me laugh. If you asked me to name 20 countries that might be known for having nude art, I'm fairly certain I wouldn't get to Lebanon. If you said 50 though, I'd probably guess it at some point since I'm not sure how many countries I actually know. That would be an interesting exercise, but at a later date. Or never. I'll decide later.
And lastly, my homey Rockabye saw this bumper sticker: "Visualize using your turn signals." I find that funny for two very different reasons. First, it amuses me that someone wants to mock the "Visualize world peace" sentiment - either like this or with its cousin, "Visualize whirled peas." Aside from arms dealers and wartime contractors, are there people who don't like the concept of a planet in harmony, albeit highly improbable? Maybe. The other thing that I find funny is that this guy's talking to the wrong people. Presumably, he'd most like for the people in front of him to use their turn signals to indicate when they're changing lanes or turning. By nature of it being a bumper sticker, he's missing the meat of his target demographic. (And hey, you can't spell "target demographic" without Peter.)
Ok folks, that's it for me. I'll be back next week with more thoughts magically converted into word form. In the meantime, we've got ourselves some happies: Happy 2nd birthday today to little Nolan, who loves blueberries more than I ever thought humanly possible. Tomorrow, our friends Dusty and Mills are getting married, so please join me in wishing them the absolute best. If any of you atoners are fasting for Yom Kippur starting Sunday at sundown, I hope it goes quickly and easily. And Happy Birthday to longtime and loyal reader Sue on Thursday. I'm off, folks. Feel free to write me at ptklein@gmail.com, and be healthy and happy.
4 comments:
I will attempt to write this in between laughs, thinking of our most recent r-ball experience. I do think that the next time we play, you should wear the goggles and use a mouth-guard. I am looking forward to our next r-ball challenge. Tuesday?
And the by the way, the vehicle with the visualize using your turn signals also had the bumper sticker visualize whirled peas. I would say I'm impressed, but there is no need for any more backhanded compliments in this post.
Rockabye
When I was about your age and was playing racquetball quite regularly I found that it was an excellent form of exercise. I fell into a group of guys that were pretty good and we had some long, grueling matches.
One day my younger brother Richard told me he had been playing and wanted to challenge me. Richard made the one mistake that Amber warned you about (don't get hurt) that you seemed to elude. You see, he couldn't decide whether to play the ball off a wall or catch it before it bounced. He opted to go for it before it bounced and ran face first into the wall, smashing his nose. After cleaning up the blood, we had a nice brotherly laugh. Poor Richard. He seemed to get hurt disproportionately.
Sorry you inherited my sports ability and not your father's. At least we can bowl.
Would it have been funnier if I put steel cage match before beer pong? I would imagine it's pretty tough for a steel cage match to end in a tie. Sort of like putting a "battle to the death" as the second to last tie-breaker. Oh well... next time.
Kevin will definitely have the advantage if we ever get to a steel cage match.
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