Fantasy Baseball

Dexter has wanted to play a Fantasy Baseball League since last year. His cousin, Jeremiah was nice enough to start a 4 team league with his Bro and Sis (Tom and Stacey) -two of Dexter's cousins. It's an ESPN driven league and free to play. With only 4 teams of 20? players and a pool of 750 to pull from, there will always be many good players to pick and choose from.  I told Dexter I would help- do a little research and assist with the draft.

I had completely forgotten on draft night, involved in  a project at work when Dexter called at 6:45 reminding that the draft was at 7:30! Are you going to be home?  Crikey!  I had not yet done any research! Immediately dropping what I was doing, I managed to find a taxi and get home in 15 minutes. Cramming all the notes that I could (began in the taxi) we were ready for the draft. By the (un) luck of the draw we had the last (well,fourth) pick but also because of this would have the very next-5th pick. Our draft selections were always in two's and throughout Dexter continually reminded me to have two-three ready choices. 

The draft was fun - when it was your turn, you had about a minute to choose, then the process moved fairly quick.  We weren't sure if we should draft position players by position or by quality, how many pitchers to acquire- so we decided to target some players, not draft any Dodgers (made easier when Kershaw and Kemp were picked up early) and just go for it.  In the end we came up with a pretty solid team (again, with only 4 teams it would be harder not to) but probably had one too many relievers.

We are the World Chemps (nickname Big O Franchise); Chemps for Chew-Dempsey and Big O is for Oliver- originally we were "Oliver's Head" but he didn't care for that one.  Going against team names that will also strike fear and intimidate: The Crazy Crabs (homage to the Giant mascot of the early '80's designed for fans to intentionally dislike), Nicely Done (to lull into underestimating) and Tommy Tommy Long Hair.

I didn't pay much attention to the proceedings the first three-four games but when I realized that some strategy is involved, it became much more interesting.  Also I wanted to know how exactly were we leading. You only get credit for players selected to play so you have to play hunches as to who might have a good day, who is on a roll, which pitcher might get a win or a bunch of strikeouts, slotting players to fill in your regulars- on days off, trading players, dropping and adding players.  Dexter and I - are hooked!

I explained to Dext that the season is long so he should expect a lot of up and downs- you can clear 100 points in two days so you might move from first to last in just that amount of time, and reverse direction even faster.  However, we're still on a pretty good roll..  Here's who we have now (with one change- we acquired  Napoli-c and dropped Avila.  Earlier this week, Tommy Tommy Long Hair traded us Strasberg-Pitcher for Cesedes,Outfielder of the A's (which may work well for both teams).  You definitely "bench" players that aren't playing that day but sometimes a team plays but your player does not -drats!  Or you think you have a great player but he doesn't hit! Or field!  Tulowitski! However you figure it's worth keeping him until he comes around. An older player like Michael Young will get a rest every few games so it takes some guessing as to which game that might be. I don't know!  A pitcher like Yu Darvish is on a team that will score a lot of runs (Texas) so even if you're needing convincing about how good Yu is, you determine that he still will get a bunch of wins. I should stop here as to not give out any of our team secrets... if only we had any.  We've been lucky so far and Josh Hamilton has been the main mover of our team.  He, was a steal!

the scores for the pitchers reflect how their teams did on this day- not their individual games.
we also have a home rule not to root against the Giants under any circumstances.

C	Yadier Molina, StL C			Cin	L 3-6		--/--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--		--	--		100.0	+0
1B	Prince Fielder, Det 1B			Tex	L 3-10		1/3	2	1	0	0	0	0	1	0	0	0		0	4		100.0	+0
2B	Dustin Pedroia, Bos 2B						--/--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--		--	--		100.0	+0
3B	Michael Young, Tex 1B, 3B, DH			@Det	W 10-3		3/5	1	3	0	0	0	2	1	0	1	0		0	8		100.0	+0
SS	Derek Jeter, NYY SS			Min	W 7-6		1/5	1	1	0	0	0	1	0	0	0	0		0	3		100.0	+0
OF	Jose Bautista, Tor 3B, OF			TB	L 4-9		0/3	1	0	0	0	0	0	2	0	0	0		0	3		100.0	+0
OF	Josh Hamilton, Tex OF			@Det	W 10-3		1/4	1	1	0	0	0	0	2	0	0	0		0	4		100.0	+0
OF	Josh Willingham, Min OF, DH			@NYY	L 6-7		1/5	0	1	0	0	0	0	0	0	0	0		0	1		100.0	+0
UTIL	Hunter Pence, Phi OF			@SD	W 2-0		1/3	1	1	0	0	0	0	1	0	0	0		0	3		100.0	+0
				Totals			8/28	7	8	0	0	0	3	7	0	1	0		0	26
Bench	Pablo Sandoval, SF 3B						--/--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--		--	--		100.0	+0
Bench	Troy Tulowitzki, Col SS						--/--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--		--	--		100.0	+0
Bench	Alex Avila, Det C			Tex	L 3-10		0/2	0	0	0	0	0	0	2	0	0	0		0	2		100.0	+0
Bench	Adrian Beltre, Tex 3B			@Det	W 10-3		1/6	1	1	0	0	0	0	0	0	0	0		0	2		100.0	+0
DL							--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--		--	--		--	--
DL							--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--		--	--		--	--

PITCHERS				Apr 19			Apr 19 Pitching							Total		RESEARCH
SLOT	PLAYER, TEAM POS	ACTION		OPP	STATUS ET		IP	K	CG	SO	W	L	SV	PTS		%OWN	+/-
SP	Jered Weaver, LAA SP			Oak	L 2-4		--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--		100.0	+0
SP	Ricky Romero, Tor SP			TB	L 4-9		--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--		100.0	+0
SP	Yu Darvish, Tex SP			@Det	W 10-3		6.1	5	0	0	1	0	0	15		100.0	+0
SP	Stephen Strasburg, Wsh SP			Hou	L 4-11		--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--		100.0	+0
SP	Colby Lewis, Tex SP			@Det	W 10-3		--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--		100.0	+0
RP	Craig Kimbrel, Atl RP			@Ari	W 10-2		--	--	--	--	--	--	--	--		100.0	+0
				Totals			6.1	5	0	0	1	0	0	15
Bench	Madison Bumgarner, SF SP

Didn't consider what a rain out does !  We had 4 major players not play today because of it!  At one point on 4/20 Jay, Stacey and Tommy were all in a row, each separated by one point. Wild stuff.

Postscript: 10/5/12 we ran the table from day 1 to the end of the season. Yeah, I'd call it luck!
6555
6392 
5999 
5391

CHG
		R	1B	2B	3B	HR	RBI	BB	HBP	SB	CS	E		K	CG	SO	W	L	SV
1	World Chemps BigOFranchise		798	957	534	48	1004	812	569	84	80	-29	-75		993	65	25	720	-230	200		6555	+9
2	The Crazy Crabs		788	899	602	75	860	753	580	41	113	-35	-82		1018	65	40	750	-265	190		6392	+33
3	Tommy Tommy Long Hair		717	790	516	81	944	755	531	38	107	-41	-72		968	20	10	690	-220	165		5999	+21
4	Nicely Done		687	810	514	99	744	718	531	41	109	-44	-78		850	15	10	610	-230	5		5391	+19

 we ended the season with six Giants: Pence, Baumgarner (both all year), Panda, Pagan, Scutaro, Vogelsong

Mr. D

The loss hurts so much because the memories are so full and good. He is the father of my friend John, who died eleven years ago. Mr. D left us on John's birthday March 31. I can't think of many people I know of by just an initial- PE teacher Mr.A  because not many could pronounce his name. Basketball legend Dr. J, the singer Mr. B comes to mind but none with the affection of the recollection of Mr.D.  Growing up  my peers and I always sized up the parents of our friends; what were their boundaries, did they have a bad temper, did they tolerate and  like us?

 

He always enjoyed engaging us in conversation with his interest and ready laughter. He liked once when I noted his flair when stirring a glass of chocolate milk, tapping out a nice rhythmic finish. As a father now I do this. There were three father figures I looked to growing up in my neighborhood on 30th Avenue. They were my father, Mr.Grant and Mr. Dickinson. When theDickinsons moved out to Vegas in '78, I was not sure how much I would see of them.  I knew that John and I would always be friends and would find ways to stay in contact.  John was not one who we might consider to write letters (but he did, and often lengthy) and I wasn't someone who gave much of himself (but I would learn to).

I flew out to Vegas several times and was welcomed at the Dickinson household each time. Once John and I participated in a nutty thing where we jumped over an airplane propeller set beneath a protective steel floor.  Using the  proper technique would allow you to fly up pushed in an airstream created by the propeller. Thirty years later I visualize us wrapped in padded jackets surrounded by the massive sounds of the experience and the two of us flying, crashing and laughing. 

Retreating back to the house on Viking Road to a mightily stirred chocolate milk, dinner and television with Mr. and Mrs. D., John, Dennis and Lucky.  Stories shared of then and since then. Circumstances in time created a bond with this family and me- and while the frequency of visits were not numerous, they became meaningful and important.  The lines of friendship and family became blurred, as the relationships became a part of something that needed to be.  

Last week Maria referred to Mr. D as the type of person you do not witness often; someone who accepts what life presents, no matter how difficult that task might be. By his actions,he seemed to say to us that this was his burden and he would accept it. Mr Dickinson did so with not only strength but with grace.  The grace of God perhaps but I saw it through him.  When moments of humor presented, he accepted those too. At his niece’s Monica’s wedding, he danced and danced, and did so living in the fineness of that day.

As a man devoted to his family, Mr. D set a template for others to learn from.  He did what he needed to do.  If the task was to face a wooly mammoth, he would face that mammoth.  In my adult life I have been content to do what I want without worrying what most people think about me- as long as it answers to my own standards of conduct.  However Mr. D was an exception- I wanted his approval.  

Knowing that he believed in me will continue to be meaningful in my life. It goes without saying that he will be missed but what I need to acknowledge is that his existence is part of who I am, and who I would like to be.

Had The Talk

Every once in awhile I feel like a Dad. I always know that I am a Dad but at heart what I feel like is a goofy kid. There are some days I do feel like a Dad- a good Dad. I'm proud of myself today. Whenever I look at Dexter and Oliver, I am proud but at the very same time wondering how in the world did I contribute to these great guys? Perhaps this is how Tim Tebow feels when he throws a pass 50 yards and someone catches it and runs in for a touchdown...

Last night I was determined to finally have the father-son discussion that I may have been avoiding the past six months. But really, I've been busy. Really, really busy.

Just the same, I have never experienced being on either end of this discussion. Remembering an older friend (who could actually cook spam!) who taunted me about my parents doing the deed- which I denied at age 16, and didn't believe until 18...I certainly owed this to Dexter.
Especially since I couldn't convince Maria to have the father to son discussion.

So where to have it? Somewhere where we wouldn't be crowded- somewhere open. Considered the Pier 39 Aquarium or the zoo- but Dext doesn't like to see animals kept in small places. Considered cafes but the thought of our discussion transferring to anyone's ears and to Dexter's discomfort wouldn't work but a place that might work would be- my workplace. A big space quiet and empty on a Sunday. Conference rooms or comfortable sitting places. Perfect.

I worked out an outline. The physics of it all. Why people do it; for love, for fun, to explore. The discomfort of the teenage years. Protection. Your friends will talk. Peer pressure. Being a gentleman. Listening. Not being afraid of being turned down by someone. Awkward moments. Privacy. Our part in this as support. We're there if he seeks us or not. 30 minutes in one of the Mothers Rooms. After laughter and some stumbling, it felt easy and good. I, we did good. My son. And I am his father.


although this picture from later in the afternoon leads me to believe that maybe I didn't communicate the concepts clearly. Son, you don't go in head first.

Fare You Well

This past week Cailin finished up her tour of duty at our shared place of work. This last round has lasted nearly 15 months, with an earlier go of 10 months previously. It's been a nice situation getting to know my niece as an adult and to witness her flourish in social settings of her own. My own time would have been a lonely stay without her- especially after my gang of friends dispersed from our SF office. To a new company called Ticketfly she goes, with great promise and hope. Her first job in which tomorrow is not just another day. Thank you and all my best wishes as you follow your path.

Sincerely,
Uncle Brian

Faith

When I was ten I had a great friendship. Admittedly we did things that I wouldn't be happy with my boys doing today but we weren't alone in making the mistakes; we were together. Learning together, in mischief together. It's wrong to steal. Do not drop live turtles down your pants only because you have the shop keeper distracted. It's wrong to swear without meaning or with malice in your heart. We did not have the malice and we didn't have the meaning either. It was just fun to smash as many curse words together in one sentence and run down the school hallways. It's wrong to play with matches despite the appeal of fire and light. Do not set your school bathroom on fire. We watched Sesame Street in its first season and during commercial breaks rode my mother's ironing board down the stairs.

The next year, my friend went to a different school but we would still have time together- to play on the weekends and for years to come. Only as life does, it didn't work out this way. Instead when I called or when G called me, he would ask a question that I was completely incapable of answering. With a seriousness bordering on an interrogation, he would ask about my feelings about God. Our friendship could go no further unless I told him. He was insistent and I was consistently puzzled. I did not know what to say. Looking back now, I can understand some of what he was feeling in relation to everything that was occurring in his household. I can understand the importance to be on the same path with someone you care about. I didn't have a path yet- I was just looking for laughs and being a stupid kid. I'm still looking for laughs.

We drifted apart. A phone call here and there but distant, in different time zones. It may have been six years later napping in my cold room in the garage when my mother woke me up to say that G was upstairs with his mother. Feeling half asleep-dreaming?- my mother had to come back down to tell me to get upstairs. It might also be that I was hesitant to go up. For them life had taken many turns but they were at peace and just wanted to see me, my family and to let us know their story. Their faith and love had carried them through turmoil and to a good place.

These are still my memories decades later with one more: we would correspond (letters, not emails) once or twice a year as G became a Doctor somewhere way up north. About 15 years after the last time I saw he and his mom, G wrote that he had a some business to tend to in San Francisco and would like to see us as well as meet Maria over dinner. We ate at a place that from one bad experience I referred to its' name as meaning "bad sausage" . This was a good meal and a better evening of old and new friends being friends, taking easy comfort in the presence of each other. We had finally arrived to a place where our memories and experiences were both seen as positive shared experiences, if the acts themselves were not ones we would recommend or do again. Twenty five years to be ten, on the same path.

I think about the things he experienced- how he got through as well as the process many people take to get through their conflicts and troubles. Different ways to do so but many choose the road of having faith to sustain, nourish, and hold on to. I didn't grow up with religion in my life; it was not put down but also the topic was never discussed. I am continually fascinated as to what f aith is. While recognizing the grays to every discussion and conflict, how I view the world has gotten simpler as I've gotten older. I see families and individuals that find joy in their lives having a good sense of self, enjoying laughter, not controlling others and having some type of faith. It may be a faith in God but also faith in something that is less tangible as a celestial concept; faith that provides a morality that they can hold on to, that informs and strengthens everything they do. It's a root of which all their decisions flow from. A faith that allows us to believe in our local team even though we know that the reality is that team will probably will be crummy again but this faith allows to believe and invest ourselves in that belief. And get up again, if the flower does not yet bloom.

Faith or Optimism? Optimism requires blinders and some delusion; an optimist always has the belief that whatever the situation is, it will get better. Faith has more of an acceptance of reality;
a bad situation may not get better unless we involve ourselves in providing a solution, all the while working with hope to get through. Optimism would not have helped most of those persecuted by the Nazi's but those with their faith may have found the will to continue on. Faith does not promise happy endings for the individual but it does value the courage of doing the right thing and the importance of a community.

I am not impressed with those who try to force others how to live their lives other than to encourage and inspire. I am impressed with those with a belief system, who go forward despite their fears, with courage, kindness and good humor. Rooted in Faith, they seek to plant the seeds of goodwill, care and love in their communities.

However the journey leads you to it, keep the faith, my sons.


I should note that although this is something i ponder, the idea to put these thoughts on paper came after watching a film called, "Higher Ground" by Vera Farmiga.

Why Can't I Stay Home?

Where are they dragging me out when I could stay home and watch episodes of "The Office" or "30 Rock"- or I could catch up on my homework while occasionally checking up on my Facebook page? It's easier being 13 inside.

At least it's sunny at Ocean Beach. Yesterday they said it was cold and windy and that you needed earplugs- not for the music but to keep the sand out of your ears. I like to help and volunteer and as my Mom and Dad check in to the volunteer booth, I hope I can help. It seems confusing and only Mom gets an orange shirt. Dad looks a little upset but he's not saying anything about it.

A lady takes us over to one of the two stages after asking if we want to be close or far away from the music. There are three big garbage cans lined for compost, recycle and trash and Mom and Dad's job is to be sure that the right stuff goes into the correct cans. I'll set up a blanket with my brother. It's about 10 and the music doesn't start until 11. We have snacks and books to read.

Mom is sorting with her hands while waiting for some gloves to arrive. Dad is going on a walk to check out the food and the displays for the guy, Warren Hellman. He pays for all this and I guess he still will, for years after his dying. All the artists that came out today are old friends who wanted to play at his public memorial. It's a pretty day, sunny and even a little bit warm and the beach is next to us.

My brother and I spent most of the day playing on the beach. We listened and watched some of the music but later when all the people came , it got too crowded to see. On the beach we had a lot of room to play and breathe. My parents stayed at their station longer than they were supposed to because no one came to relieve them. Six hours standing over garbage cans is a long time but then they came out and played with us on the beach. We played team keep away (me and Dad were awesome) until the sun started to go down as the last music and tributes finished. I'm feeling glad I came out but now I just want to go home and rest. A hot chocolate or soup would be nice and I hope I can sleep in tomorrow.

My Dad says that all the acts were good and that Hardly Strictly Bluegrass streamed the whole show- and still has all seven plus hours on their website for anyone to watch. One band even played a Whitney Houston song into a fun bluegrass rhythm. Dad says that a moment that captures the joy of performance, the interaction of musicians in the moment and how simple and perfect of just two people playing - is about 3 hours 40 minutes into the show (you can mark it on the stream) for the performance of Gillian Welch and David Rawlings' "Six White Horses". I liked them. I guess I can always watch "The Office" later.

The Wheel Of Fortune

We started two new annual traditions this year 'round Valentine's Day.

1. New pillows for everybody. I'm not sure what an appropriate shelf life for a pillow is but after 365 nights of sleeping on it (minus vacation days) and 3-4 pillow fights a year this would seem to justify getting a new full pillow. I'm not even considering a gallon of drool over this period of time.

2. The Wheel Of Fortune. On Valentine's we are dividing dinner into three categories and each category is written on a piece of paper: appetizer, main entree and dessert. Dexter and Oliver represent one team while Maria another, as well as myself. Whichever category we draw from a hat is the part of the meal we will be responsible for. The kids can choose anything they want and their parents will pay for their menu item as long as they prepare it. We were all in and genuinely excited to participate.

I have to say that salami and peanut butter is a lot better than it sounds.
Dessert was not unlike a Van Halen guitar solo; layers of excess. Warmed dark chocolate syrup on the bottom of a bowl with vanilla ice cream set over it. The ice cream held in place by two halves of a sugar cookie. Over this a puree of strawberries sweetened with agave- topped with a light cherry vanilla whipped cream, bits of chopped nuts and centered with a tiny sugar cone cradling sliced strawberries. More chocolate syrup is dripped over the stop with a dab of extra strawberry puree.
I have to say that salami and peanut butter is a lot better than it sounds.

Also, the hardest working man today might be our favorite florist on California Street right next door to the Lumiere Theater. Working alone ever since his partner of 35-50? years died in 2010, he tried having others work with him but when you're a team for that long, it's likely difficult to settle for less than what he's used to- in some ways I wonder if the effort created more work. They knew each others' space and actions so well. Gentlemen and always gracious to us and the children saving treats for the boys for when they would see us next. Artists in how they arranged their bouquets; what you select is only a draft and a template to expand and enrich. I feel a sheepish as I'm sure that we are charged less than many or most but it has always been a special place to visit, and a place where the boys have witnessed commerce with kindness, craft and care.
(actually the boys came up with a lovely fruit salad-D, and salami and cream cheese-O . Maria made a delicious hearty tomale!)