Zack Cozart Is Your Quarter Season MVP. #FML

Zack Cozart is one of those major leaguers you can’t hate. He grinds. He sacrifices his body for the game (which is probably a bit insane when you think about it. But damn if it ain’t entertaining!). He’s not one of the guys you expect to be a quarter season MVP. But here we are, at the quarter turn, and Zack is pretty much the only guy, outside of rookie strikeout-homerun-strikeout-strikeout sensation, Adam Duvall, to accomplish anything worthy of major league status (unless we’re counting JJ Hoover’s amazing ability to give up homeruns. He’d make a great homerun derby pitcher).

I’m not taking anything away from Cozart’s season, but the fact that he’s the best we’ve got thus far makes be reach for a plastic funnel, a few gallons of cheap beer, and as much Xanax as I can swallow before the men in the white coats come to take me away.

Zack Cozart is your quarter-season MVP! Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here.

If, as this season started, you had to guess who might be the Reds MVP at the quarter turn, the first choice would have been obvious: Joey Votto. After that, you might have said Devin Mesoraco, Jay Bruce, or maybe even Homer Bailey. If Homer had come back from off-season surgery early, who knows how many no-hitters he’d have tossed or lions he’d have strangled to death with his bare hands by now?

If I’d have told you that, as the Reds rounded first base on the 2016 season, Zack Cozart would be the MVP, you might not have believed me. But stranger things have happened. This season, stranger things have happened on a regular basis, in fact, especially when the bullpen takes the mound.

Sure, claiming the title of MVP on one of the worst teams in the majors is a bit like winning the title of Miss Congeniality at an inbred retirement community, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t warranted taking the throne thus far.

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Elevator Conversations: The Sound of Silence

I’m standing in an elevator, alone, when a man in a leather coat and dark sunglasses walks in. The door closes behind him.

The man turns his head and stares at me.

Me: Hey, man. How’s it going?
Him: …
Me: …
Him:…
Me: Hot out today, isn’t it?
Him: …
Me: …
Him: …
Me: You from around here?
Him: …
Me: …
Him: …
Me: …

The door opens. The man laughs derisively and walks out.

Me: Kay … Bye, then.

#ElevatorConversations

Reality Check

I’m a big fan of optimism. But optimism can only take you so far. Sometimes, what you need is a big dose of reality to get you where you need to go.

That’s what I think is in store for my favorite baseball team, the Cincinnati Reds. There have been some fun stories this year, and the last five or six seasons have been a fun ride, but Reality is here to let us know that some of our most cherished ideas and beliefs about this team and the players who comprise it are on their way out.

Read my article on Redlegnation.

Bhavna from Hoboken

An email correspondence with a recruiter…

Him: Are you interested in a 6 month, contract, B.I. position in Hoboken, NJ, paying $15/hr? Sincerely, Bhavna.

Me: Does it comes with free beer?

Bhanvna: No. Sincerely, Bhavna.

Me: No thank you, then. Also, how do you pronounce, “Bhavna,” anyway?

Bhavna: It’s pronounced, “Bhavna.” Sincerely, Bhavna

Me: Well played, sir. We’ll played.

That Giant Sucking Sound

Sometimes its fun to watch things implode. I usually reserve that feeling for large buildings and, perhaps, contestants on “The Voice.” It’s not so much fun when the players on your favorite team implode. Here’s my attempt to figure out why.

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Eliott Loves To Run

Eliott likes to run.

Scratch that. Eliott LOVES to run. On rainy days, when he’s cooped up inside, he runs from one side of the living room to the other, just to get his legs moving. It’s only a few steps, but a few steps is all he needs. He backs up, scrunching himself against the wall like a cat preparing to pounce, then blasts off, full force to the opposite side of the room, where he relies on a wall, a piece of furniture, or maybe even his brothers to stop his momentum.

He does this over and over again. For hours. No matter what, he has to keep moving.

I used to be like that. When I was a kid, I’d go down to my grandma’s house and toss a tennis ball against her house. I’d catch it with my ball glove and toss it back again and again. I played entire baseball games there, setting up a complicated system of rules where, depending on where on the vinyl siding the ball hit, it would be a ball or a strike or a hit. If it was a hit, I’d have to catch it and throw it back to get the runner out. A game would take about two hours. Sometimes I’d play several games, there at my Grandma’s house, over the course of a day.

I played real baseball games, too, with actual people. I rode bikes, and swam, and ran and climbed trees in the woods. I was fairly active when I was a kid.

And yet somehow I grew up fat. I lost the weight some in my 20s, back when all I had to do was work full time and go to school part time. But now, with a wife, four kids, a demanding job and a bum knee, its hard to keep in any kind of shape that isn’t circular.

But today, I read some research of childhood obesity. It seems that the number one contributor to childhood health and avoiding obesity is the influence of the father. If I’m fat, they’ll be fat. If I’m fit, they’ll be fit, too.

I went on a walk for lunch yesterday. It was nothing special. Just a mile around the block by my office. I’ll try for two miles today since yesterday was kinda easy. I’ll try to do some ab/core exercises tonight and maybe one of the many exercise dvds we have tomorrow morning. I’ll start talking with the kids about it, too. Maybe they’ll want to exercise more. And maybe I’ll find some fun stories to share here, this first Fat Tuesday post.

I’m excited and I hope it goes well. Because Eliott loves to run, and I’d like to see him keep doing that.

The Loveable Everyman

I have a soft spot in my heart for the Loveable Everyman. I don’t know why. He’s the guy who gets by on grit and nothing else. The guy who out works everyone until he wins.

Maybe it’s the idea that even an Average Joe can find success in the land of opportunity that excites me. No matter how great or how small, everyone has a chance if they’re willing to work for it.

I like that.

I published my second article with Redleg Nation today. It was about the passing of the everyman torch from previous fan favorite, Corky Miller, to the next generation.

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Elevator Conversations: Prayers in times of strife

Walking into an elevator, I see a co-worker being berated by a senior exec. He tries to defend himself, but there is no defense in times such as these.

When the screaming stops, the co-worker joins me in the elevator. He faces the doors for a moment, then speaks as if delivering a sermon to his boss.

Co-Worker: On this beautiful day of our Lord, I raise not one, but TWO middle fingers in your direction. May they gaze lovingly over you and all that you stand for.

Me: The word of the Lord

Co-Worker: Amen.

#ElevatoraConversations

How To Chase a Dream When Your Kids Keep Barfing On You

If you’re like me, and words like “practicality” and “logistics” and “planning” make you dizzy, you probably spend a great deal of time staring out the window, dreaming about all the fun things you hope to do with your life…later on.

The problem is, if you don’t pull out the dictionary from time to time and see what all these fancy quotation-marked words mean, you’ll never get past the dreaming stage and start moving toward reality.

This is doubly true if you have kids.

Today, I shared some thoughts on Ryan Avery’s blog about the logistics of chasing a dream while dealing with the reality of living Actual, Real, Life, and all the responsibilities that come with it.

Check it out here.

Elevator Conversations: Wrong Day

I step into the elevator, push the button, and watch the doors close. Another guy is alteady there. He seems happy.

Guy: Hey man. How’s it going?
Me: Good. You?
Guy: Same here. Thank God it’s Friday, right?
Me: …Um…It’s only Thursday
Guy: Really?
Me: Yep.
Guy: … … … (*Expletive*)

#elevatorconversations