Our own Ol' Pete

The Coneheads constantly challenge me. I mean, the formula is, fall behind or get an early lead, it doesn't matter, eventually the Conehead inning comes, and suddenly the opposition finds themselves down 12-0 as Cream and Clear did Saturday after our nine run second, and it's over. Oh we may toy with them, stop scoring for a couple of innings and they think they have a shot at 12-3 and a couple guys on in the 4th or 5th inning, but then someone makes a play on D like Markley gunning down a fool out at third base. And inevitably we score seven more in the top of the last inning, and they just want to go home.

And I talk about Sting's triple to start the scoring, or the Knight's three run bomb in the second to make it 10-0, his third round tripper in four ABs going back to the second game last Monday night. We scored eight of our nine runs with two outs in that second inning. Or eight straight hits and walks in the seventh to salt away the game. Those are things that define a total team effort.

And I am left looking for story ideas.
And I always seem to return to Joe, or as he will be known for the rest of this article, Ol' Pete.

There was a pitcher in the twenties, or the teens and twenties, named Grover Cleveland Alexander. He was variously known as "Alexander the Great" or just Ol' Pete. He won 373 games, tied with Christy Mathewson for first in the National League record book, and threw 90 shutouts, still the National League record.

No one knows why he was called Ol' Pete. But Ol' Pete drank, a lot. He was known to have passed out on the mound on occasion - he suffered from epilepsy that was triggered by an injury in World War I. But he also hit the bottle particularly hard as a result of the physical and emotional injuries he sustained in the war.

In 1926, he was sold to the Cardinals by the Cubs - the Cubs' owner was tired of his insubordination and his belligerence and his drinking. His manager said the Cubs would be in last place with or without him, and he'd rather it not be with him. The Cardinals were in the middle of a pennant race. They won the pennant, and Ol' Pete won games two and six of the World Series against the dread Yankees. After winning game six he reportedly went out and got really drunk, assuming he would not be needed in game seven. Well, the story goes, the Cardinals' pitcher developed a blister in the seventh inning, and the manager called on the very hung over Alexander, who staggered out of the bullpen where he was sleeping it off. He came in with the bases loaded and two outs and the score 3-2, and struck out slugger Tony Lazzeri to preserve the lead. He pitched the eighth and ninth, and the Cardinals had the first World Series win in their history.

Here is the scenario: I'm not saying our Ol' Pete aka Ol' Stink Eye is a drunk. But I believe he is landing at SFO tomorrow at around 5 pm. He will be very jet lagged from a 24 hour flight across the world. I can just see him coming into Heather Farm, and as he is walking to the field, just then Larry gets hit again on the arm like yesterday...and here comes Ol' Stink Eye to save the day as he gets Cream N Clear's best hitter on a comebacker to end the championship game. Now that would be a story.

Speaking of Larry, his curve may not be as good as Joe's but he has had these guys popping up and hitting into double plays all week in the playoffs. I mean they are not the toughest teams we have ever faced, but we have only allowed eleven runs in three games, and that has a lot to do with our ace for the playoffs.

I am behind on the stats, so I will say only two things: I know the Knight is setting quite a pace with the three homers and ten RBIs, and Chopper has eleven. And D is leading the team in strikeouts with a Conehead Playoff record two, although they are about the only outs he has made. In fact I just looked at the book - this is true. The rest of the team isn't doing too badly either.

At any rate, at the risk of overconfidence and flying in the face of superstition and jinxes, there is almost no way we lose two tomorrow night. I hate myself for saying it, so we better go out and win this thing.

See you there. Stats will follow the ending.

The Cone Zone

I was told that Monday was a doubleheader for the ages to blog about. The Coneheads came back not once but twice in a statement doubleheader - especially the first game against last year's runner up The Cream and Clear. They could have had first place - all they had to do was beat us by 20 runs, or just beat us and hope we fell flat in the second game. Which we threatened to do.

But it was not to be as we swept the games to end up undefeated, 8-0. And in the process we eliminated the second opponent, Team Confusion, to boot. So to speak.

I was a little distracted. I had a radio to listen to the Cardinals-Giants Game 7 of the NLCS. Those that know me know I am a die hard Cardinals fan. This was a dream series for me - my boyhood team against the local favorite, and yes I like the Giants too. I got my wish, that it would go seven. Someone had to lose and it turned out to be my Cardinals. Yes, they won it all last year. Yes, they have won more World Championships than any other National League team, including five in my lifetime. But they also have lost several in that time when they were up 3-1 in the series - the 1968 and 1985 World Series, the 1996 and now the 2012 NLCS. So I was in agony as the Giants were pummeling the Cardinals 9-0. And when I couldn't listen any more with headphones and a radio, the other team had a boombox blaring in the dugout when I went over to play first base.

So yes, I was a little distracted, and then after I didn't know exactly what to write about. But today, on my commute, something happened, and it brought it all back from my subconscious. I was on the the freeway, and suddenly, in front of me was a CalTrans truck. And here is what I saw on the bumper:

In case you can't see it, it says, "Slow for the CONE ZONE".

And that is what our opponents are forced to do. They might be faster than us. They might even have some power. They are younger than us. But they must wilt in the power of the Cone Zone. They are forced there as if Rod Serling.himself showed them to the door of the Cone Zone. They go in and they come out just beaten down. It happens. Over and over.

The Cream and Clear and Team Confusion thought they had us. In the first game, thanks to a ball that Sting hit to almost Clayton (it was into the trees in deepest right field - a three run homer) we had a smallish Conehead rally (only seven runs) to go up 8-5 in the third. The Cream rose to the top to take a lead of 10-9 going into the sixth, which the ump said would be our last inning. We had two outs and one on, down to our last breath - and proceeded to get eight straight batters on base. Their pitcher helped us out with two of them on walks - but that is just a testament to our ability as veterans that we will take a walk and let someone else be the hero - and they usually reward us by stepping up. In this case it was Chuck who got the two run single that gave us a lead. And then Lefty started his evening's late inning heroics with a blast into the middle gap that cleared the bases and gave us the cushion that took the wind out of the Clear sails. Final 17-10, as we shut them down without even so much as a whimper in the last of the sixth.

In the nightcap we kind of relaxed, knowing we had clinched first place. All we had left to do was to get that undefeated season, our second in the last three falls (Giants fans - sound familiar?). We weren't hitting at all, except for a huge blast by Randy leading off the third. Through five innings we had all of seven hits, and had just been through the lineup twice.

Larry and then D were dealing too, and it was like a baseball pitcher's duel, whoever heard of a 2-2 tied in softball through five innings? It seemed like whoever broke through first was going to run away with it, and sure enough it was Team Confusion, who piled seven runs on to start the sixth.But this is the Coneheads, and we just are not phased.We cracked eight hits in nine batters in the bottom of the sixth to keep the opponent within reach, trailing by one going into the seventh.

An aside - to that moment Lefty was having quite a game. His first time up, he had a flashback to the golf tee...his swing would have given him a great drive on a 500 foot hole. Perfect form, except that it was the wrong sport and he swung under the lobbed softball. Steeerike Three! Next time up, he got two strikes on him and decided he better not repeat that performance. Instead he is a hard ball grounder right to the second baseman, and the only thing that kept him out of a double play was a bad relay throw. We caught a break - because of that throw a run scored and Lefty had an RBI. That is the one that tied it 2-2. And his third time up - he made the only out in that six run sixth in between nine hits.

So the stage was set. We held Confusion to one run in the top of the seventh as Larry came back in and kept them from a big inning. Down two, last of the seventh. Gene and Chuck did what needed to get done - they got on to set up the tying runs with Sting up. He hit yet another gapper, tying it up and he stood at third as the winning run. The only question was who would be the final hero. All we needed was a medium deep fly ball, and Reg would score.

Well what would you do if you were Team Confusion? I'm sure the fact that Lefty was 0-3 with a K had nothing to do with it, but they proceeded to intentionally walk D and Greg to get to him with force plays set up everywhere. Talk about your chance for redemption. He could have just tried to blast the ball to make sure Sting scored, but instead he hit a beautiful line drive hit to RC and it was over.

Undefeated - it's hard to do even in softball. There are so many things that can align on a given night to keep you from winning, no matter how overmatched the other team might be in some cases. We can enjoy that all we want, until - now. Because the ultimate goal is Cotton, and for this we need four more wins. The second season is just starting tomorrow night, and don't you think that Cream and Clear and the rest would just love to knock us off? You better believe it. Eternal vigilance is called for. We won't have our big weapon Joe, with or without the Stink Eye, he's busy striving for salvation in the Holy Land. Larry has held these teams without many runs too though, and as long as we get him a few, one Conehead inning a game, and keep at it, we can get Cotton. Again. Should be fun.

See you there. May you have many Conehead hits in your future. Then you will know, you have stepped into the...wait for it...the Cone Zone.

Milestones:
(Game 1)
Chuck        550 rbi (#2)
Lefty          20 2b (#22)
Markley     150 ab (#23)
(Game 2)
Chuck        1450 ab (#1)
Larry          1100 ab (#5)
D               30 bb (#14)

Namo Amitofu

It was a beautiful day Tuesday. Sparklingly clear from the recent rains, warm, sunny. A great day to play two that night for the playoff championship for Transdyn. We would be the favorites - but it is a competitive league, and we lost last week for our first loss of the season to end up 9-1. Our confidence was not broken, but there was a shred of doubt that crept in.

In the late morning, I went out for a smoke break, minding my own business, and thinking about the games that night, and a little Chinese Buddhist woman comes right up to me and says - "Namo Ami - Tofu."

Say what?

"Namo Amitofu."

Now I work in downtown Oakland in a start-up company where the average age is about 27, as young as my kids. I mean the CEO is all of 31. And it is just off Chinatown, and believe it or not downtown Oakland these days is full of hipsters and hipsterer coffee houses and hipsterest vegan restaurants. I thought she must be talking about some tofu joint up the street where I could go to lunch.

She wouldn't let it go. "Namo Amitofu." She stared at me. Finally she says, "It means good luck. Just repeat it over and over all day long and you will have good luck."

Well now I get it. This was a sign about the playoffs. Because we know how superstitious ball players are. And if some random Buddhist is going to accost me on the street and tell me to repeat Good Luck all day long on the day of playoffs, by god I will repeat it all day long. And so I did.

It didn't work all that well Tuesday - they postponed the games until next week because the fields were torn up from the rains. But the jury is still out, and I still want all my teammates to repeat it over and over again come this Tuesday - maybe I will even eat some tofu. And then we will see.

We did have a loss as I said. It was only by one run, and we were missing two of our best hitters in Hama and Mario. You gotta figure they are worth a run or more. But we played a little lackluster, and spotted the Pacheco Brothers five runs, and then after we fought back to take a 9-8 lead, let them come back to retake the lead at 12-9, and we just couldn't push enough across to win. Final score 12-11.

RB and Cage did what they have been doing all season and tried to carry us, RB with 4-4 and two doubles, and Cage with a massive three run homer. And Timmy and Jason and even Heffe, Mr. Slump on Tuesdays, had three hits each. Jason does get the tough guy award. After taking a beating on a hot shot that blew up his hand/arm, he came to the dugout to ice it only to find out he was leading off. So he went out and hit a bomb over the fence so he could get back to the dugout and his ice. Very efficient.

We just couldn't get the big hit when we needed to and left too many guys on base, bases loaded once and two guys on three times. And couldn't break out that big inning that has marked our other games, and totally demoralizes the opposition.

It wasn't a total loss - we collected our regular season Cotton. And there are ways to rationalize it - it's hard to go undefeated all the way through the playoffs. Well now we don't have to worry about that. We can just go into Tuesday vowing to ourselves and each other that we want to get to the last game, and when we get to it, just finish it right. If we are back to ourselves, it won't be a problem. We can be relentless and we have the best pitcher in the league, and the best defense.

And if all else fails - just keep chanting - Namo Amitofu, Namo Amitofu.

Milestones:

Coop       500 r (#1)
Cage        30 hr (#2)
Cage        200 g (#7)
RB           50 r (#27)

The Cone of Many Colors

To the Coneheads, softball is like our religion. We pray in the dugout, we play on the field.

Our little Jewish pitcher from Brooklyn, the man with remade knees and the greatest Stink-eye softball has ever seen, is making his pilgrimage to the Holy Land. They taught us as kids that every Jew must make the pilgrimage to Israel before we die. It is an imperative. And so Joe will miss our playoffs, slated to start a week after our season ending double header this Monday.

Joe has died many times on the field...when one of our outfielders makes an error, when someone pops up with runners on base, when we have a bonehead running gaff, and get caught off base on a line drive for a double play. And the result is the same...you don't want to meet his Eye when you come to the dugout, because he wants you to share this particular death. Or, better yet he will will it on you.

Even so, Joe died a little every time we lost a game because he is such a competitor. So he is a little late in his sojourn, but as they say, better late than never.

And this makes me a little afraid for the homeland of my people. Because in 6000 years or whatever it has been, have they ever been in the presence of the Stink Eye?

Israel has seen the destruction of the First Temple, the Second Temple, the sacking of Jerusalem, and in more recent times, the Intifadas, and innumerable terrorist attacks.

But suppose this scenario gets played out: Joe is moved by seeing the homeland. So much so, that he decides to go to the Wailing Wall, that famous sidewall of the temple mount from ancient times, and pray to the Gods of softball. He prays for rain, a deluge in Walnut Creek, California, USA, on October 29th, or November 3rd, or November 5th, the dates of our playoff games that he will miss, so he can play in the postponed games.

He is humbly beseeching the Lord, saying, "Lord of the Hosts, it is I, Joseph of the Cone of many colors. Please let it rain just once, so I can be a part of the playoffs, even if just the last night." He pauses to see if there is anything different in the air, a sign, anything. And then suddenly, a booming voice bellows out, blanketing the city, and terrifying the citizens: "Joseph! Joseph of the Cone of Many Colors! How dare you think that I will part the heavens and the skies, just to appease an old Conehead! How many championships are enough? How can you be so greedy when in this world there is so much poverty and violence, and pain and suffering?"

And the Lord stopped, and waited for the humbled man to fall to his knees and beseech Him for his forgiveness and mercy, and be on his way.

But not our Chief Conehead. Joe looks up, shakes his fist, and cries out, "It's NEVER enough, don't you GET IT???", and then, he turns, and faces the Wall, and calls up the biggest Stink Eye he has ever conjured.

It is still for a moment, and then with a rolling, thunderous roar, the Wall, which has stood for almost 3000 years, comes crashing down, split into a million smithereens...so sing with me...

Joseph fit the battles of Conehead Ball, Conehead Ball, Conehead Ball...
Joseph fit the battles of Conehead Ball, and the Wall came tumbling down.

You may talk about the men of Walnut Creek,
You may talk about the men of Orinda,
But there's none like good old Joseph
And the battle of Conehead Ball!

I just hope he stays clear of the Red Sea. Once was enough for it to part.

Ah, I know what you are thinking, you ask, does this have the slightest connection to our latest win on Monday? Well not at all, but I will tie it in.

Joe did get the thunderous hit of the game. It was a night we scuffled, and played down to the last place team we were playing, the 0-6 Shenanigans. We spotted them a 5-1 lead going into the bottom of the second. After a leadoff hit by the Heffinator, and a force out and a couple of hits to load the bases, up stood Joseph, and placed a perfect ball over the first baseman's head down the right field line to score two. Even though it only made it 5-3, it snapped us out of our spell. We went on to score four more to take a 7-5 lead, the big blow a smash double by Big D. It wasn't a huge lead, and even though the Shenanigans kept it close the rest of the game, we eventually won 12-10 to stay undefeated going into the last week of the regular season. And to cap off a good night, Joe came in for the save up two runs in the seventh, and got three outs on grounders, and made a great stop on one of the grounders himself.

Big games from Greg the Knight with 3-3 including a homer and a double, and Randy and Gene, also 3-3.

So we enter the season-ending doubleheader with a chance to go 8-0 and make a statement going into the playoffs that we are not ready to relinquish the championship. We play the two next best teams, so we will have to be on our toes, even as Joe is putting his in the Dead Sea. I like our chances to pull it off.

Milestones:

Joe          350 g (#1)
Gene       450 h (#11)
Sting        650 ab (#13)
Knight     100 h (#23)

Ode to Mongo

Sad but true, Alex Karras passed away this week. In fact, the same day that Sunshine roared back from an 11-6 deficit through four innings to overwhelm Jolly Rogers 17-13 and clinch a playoff spot in the process. That's right, we have clinched a playoff spot with a 6-3 record to date, and we can finish third with a win next week.

The reason I bring up Alex Karras is, of course, that he famously played a character named Mongo in Mel Brooks' Blazing Saddles, which had to be one of the funniest movies of all time. Personally, when I saw it, it was the only movie where I literally fell off my seat from laughing too hard - I kid you not. Karras had a hall-of-fame caliber career as a lineman in the NFL, and was in a starring role in a sitcom - but that was his defining moment.

Mongo the character was a member of the bad guy gang and he was a complete dumbass. In fact, if you look up Mongo in the Urban Dictionary, the fourth meaning is complete idiot, moron, or dumbass.

And we have our own Mongo - Steve A. I don't know where Steve got his nickname, one can only wonder. I have never seen him in the same place as a horse - Alex famously slugged a horse in the movie and knocked him out with one punch. I have never seen our Mongo near a horse, so I can't say anything about who would win that fight.

Take a look at the other meanings for Mongo: 2. Derogatory. Someone who suffers from Down's Syndrome (i.e. short for Mongoloid). Well, Steve, I can't comment on that either, wouldn't be PC.

Our Mongo can hit the ball. "Mongo see ball. Mongo hit ball. Mongo run to first. Mongo run to second. Mongo run to third." You see, Mongo the character always referred to himself in the third person. Steve, though, takes to heart the first and third definition of Mongo - something about always leading with the wrong foot while riding a skateboard."Mongo is a skateboard pushing style. Mainly used by tools who can't figure out how to skateboard. You push with your front foot instead of your back foot."

With his sore Achilles, this is how Steve is running. And he pushed a beautiful shot down the right field line to start the sixth, and pushed his way all the way to third. When Darrell pounded the next ball to the fence in left, we had our first lead and one we would not give up.

These heroics were set up by some memorable performances. Reggie hit a three run blast in the previous inning that brought us into the game at 11-9. And after a couple of hits by Mark W and Heffe, Sir Guy just crushed a ball over the drawn in outfield (no respect) that plated our fifth run and we were tied.

Tom and Mark stayed hot with perfect 4-4 nights - they are both hitting over .800 this season. Three more from Reggie, Larry and Heffe, and everyone contributed. Winning is still about a lot of little things and one of the best at bats was by Bob, who drew a leadoff walk in the third. We hadn't scored to that point and when Larry brought him around it changed the whole outlook of the game.

One more to go and the bonus is we won't be through no matter what happens. This will be especially fun for Sir Guy and me - our longtime teammate and shortstop Doc has been pitching of late for Bad Seed. So let's keep the MOmeNtum GOing - channel our collective Mongo.

Walkoff Part K

The tension was palpable. The air was thick with anticipation. Insert random cliche. Two outs, only the bottom of the fifth, but the clock was winding down. Less than a minute to go. The winning run was on first. I needed a solid triple to end it. Derek's legs have not been there for him in a while, he is facing off-season knee surgery. I really have to muscle up to get him all the way home. I haven't been getting the ball out of the infield lately. The pressure was almost too much to bear. I worked the count, took a ball, then a strike, fouled one off, took another ball. The seconds were checking down...10...9...8...7...the ball floated in, I didn't like it, it was outside but too close to take...I swung...

Foul Ball! Strike Three! Time is out! Game over! A Walk-off K! We win 26-13!

Now how many of you can say you have done that?

I also got the game-winning hit, when I knocked in the third run in our runaway twelve run first. And the game really was over then. What would you guys do without me?

Well, that is not really what I wanted to write about. What I really wanted to write about was this - even though everyone has contributed greatly to our 9-0 start with only one left for a perfect regular season, three guys have been carrying us all season...and amazingly they bat 3-4-5 in the lineup.

Cage has been on fire all season long. Need a line drive, there it is. Need a bomb, he serves those up too. He has a fall season record five with one game left. And we won't even talk about his defense in LC.

RB has a chance to catch Cage for the fall home run record. He has four. Tuesday night's was particularly impressive...it was being carried by the wind to left field and still carried over the fence, oppo on field three in left center. It was the three run Jack that finished the twelve run first. His six RBIs gave him 27 for the season. Just call him Superman. Fast than a speeding bullet...more powerful than a ...etc. etc. etc. He is the infusion of youth that put us over the top. RB has already smashed the RBI record for a year, with 60.

Hama is not far behind. He literally can hit it wherever, however, and how far he wants with just about any pitch. He is neck and neck with Cage with 29 and 30 RBIs respectively, good for second and third all time for a season with a game left. Hama helped his cause along with a seven RBI game including a Grand Slam as the game went out of reach for BASBHAT.

All three are hitting between .781 and .758. And that's 86 RBIs from the 3 4 5 spots in the order and the thing is, batting them together means they actually take RBIs away from each other when one or more go yard. And punctuates how much Jason and Timmy get on in front of them.

As a team the record is already impressive:

Team records we have already set:

1. 19 wins in a calendar year. Previous high was 17 in 2005. Remains to be seen if we can get to 21.
2. 9 Wins in a fall season. Previous high was 8-1-1 in 2002.
3. Winning percentage for a year. Currently at .826, best would be .840 (21-4), worst possible is .760, and previous high was .680 in 2005 (17-8).
4. Winning percentage in a season. Currently 1.000, of course best would be 1.000, worst possible is .900, and previous high was .850 in fall 2002.
5. Fewest losses in a year, 4 currently. Previous low was 8 three times. Let's end the year at 4.

With a win next week, we would tie Spring 2005 (10-2) for wins in a season, but this could be the first undefeated season in our history.

It's been a great ride so far, but there is still unfinished business. One more for the perfect regular season. And then Playoff Cotton to win. By the way, the league changed up the format. There will be four teams in the playoffs (the printed schedule has three), and thus we get two games during playoffs, which is perfect for the sluts among us.

And - I may have a surprise for the team on Tuesday.

Quote of the week: "You can't chew up yesterday's breakfast."- Jim Leland, Manager, Detroit Tigers, when asked about losing Game 4 to the A's when they rallied in the ninth for their 15th and final walk-off.

Milestones:

Heffe     10 k (#3)
Mario    10 sf (#4)
RB        10 hr (#5)
D           200 ab (#20)

The Perfect Storm

Softball is a strange game in comparison to baseball. Some odd differences occur in how the differences manifest themselves.

For example, in our game Tuesday, we batted around and made it halfway through our lineup a second time, as we took a 9-0 lead. This is not that strange the way we have been hitting this year. We did it with a combination of mostly singles with a couple walks and an error and a sac fly and a double and triple thrown in for good measure. It's how we roll when things are going well.

Our opponent was the Motor Boatin' Show Boaters, who came into the game needing to beat us to stay alive in the race for first place and seeding for the playoffs. They were in second and in our 7-0 start, everyone else had already been eliminated. And they really needed to beat us by more than the sixteen we had won by in our first matchup - the famous walk-off slaughter slam called by our own Cage.

You gotta hand it to the Showboaters - they hit the ball hard. They hit at least five, maybe more no doubters over the fence. The first two were solo shots and then this is where the softball curse comes in. The rest were all singles due to the vagaries of the softball rules on the enclosed fields in Pleasanton. One inning they hit two, and had four or five hits, and scored all of one run. In the end, we had a comfortable lead at 20-9 going into the last inning and won 20-14.

This facet could be called the perfect storm, for us, but I was really referring to the lineup we had that night. Five Regulars out, at the A's game, at rock concerts,  and on business trips, including all-star pitcher Sir Guy who held them to six runs last time. Tremendous lifts were provided by Tom pitching, and Ross manning right field, and Larry behind the plate and at second base. It sounds like Tom was serving meatballs, but he made some great pitches when he had to and stranded the bases loaded at least twice maybe three times. His strikeout of one of their powerful lefties was a thing of beauty. He pitched two balls inside, and all the batter could do was hit weak foul grounders down the line. And then he froze him with a third - this one was on the deep inside corner and the guy couldn't even get off a swing.

Ross made a great running catch in RF, and contributed three hits, and a couple of runs. Larry had a two run clutch hit in the first inning rally that blew it open into a big inning. Nice to know we have that kind of quality in our back pocket.

The center of the lineup really was productive as usual, and between them RB and Hama had nine hits and nine RBIs. Mario and Rams also had three hits.

Jason had four hits, and two howls, and the funniest worried-about-stats moment, and what would a Transdyn game be without these highlights? The howls were for a dive where he came up empty in the 5-6 hole, and one time when he got forced at third. The stats moment was when he hit a screaming line drive off the left fielder's leg and/or glove with so much top spin that it handcuffed the guy, and he immediately turned to the (first base) dugout and asked "was that a hit Heff?", only I was coaching third so I was nowhere to be found over there.

Most importantly, we have now clinched first place and dare I say it, only two more for a true first, an undefeated season. But only if we win this week, so let's just think about BASBHAT coming up. I am knocking on wood all around me so just talking about it doesn't jinx us.

Might feel strange to have almost everyone there after last week, but I'm sure we can handle it. Call it the Perfect Strum, hit the right chord.

Milestones:

RB        10 2b (#26)
Hama    100 ab (#32)
RB        50 h (#46)

Joe the Chimp

I can't decide how I feel about the A's and the Giants having a playoff bye the same night as the Coneheads this Monday.

On the one hand - what will we do with ourselves??? A Monday without Conehead softball? It is like a precursor of the long winter. No game for us, and no meaningful games in the MLB playoff madness.

There is always Monday Night Football. Let's see, it's the Jets and the Texans. That sounds as exciting as the American League Wild Card was, or like it's Act II of West Side Story. Or, we will be forced to watch Baltimore-Yankees in the ALDS. Well, everyone will be forced to watch except the unfortunate Sting (grew up in NY) and the strangely misguided G (thinks Seattle was a suburb of NYC), who will actually care who wins. Does this even qualify as a playoff game? They will have played each other 19 times this season. Enough already, just flip a coin.

All this in juxtaposition to last Monday's Conehead game, a total barnburner compared to our recent games as we only beat WMD 17-11. We were up only 13-11 going into the fifth. It was so close that Joe was pacing the dugout. "We are just playing sloppy." he grumbled.

Actually we weren't. We were just under the influence of a fever. I think it's called playoff fever, or perhaps that night, A's fever. Derek and Lefty and Greg and I think Randy a little too were huddled over their smart phones, trying to figure out the right angle to get the best sound to keep up on every play over at the O Dot Net Dot Al Dot Colosseum. "It's 2-2." "Oh 4-2 A's!" "Oh no Texas has a couple on." "Oh no, it's 4-3!" I even thought one of them was going to go up to bat with a phone-radio in his ear. You gotta like that kind of dedication.

In reality, it may have worked in our favor. As the A's game increased in intensity, so did their desire to get back in the dugout. Lefty came up in the fourth, and hit a bomb that was Popean, or Mullerful, or even Stingly. And he ran it out, ran fast. To get back to his other game. "Joe, I gotta have a rally smoke. Out next inning." And again. And another. Derek came up in the fifth, got a clutch two run two out laser single that pretty much sealed WMD's fate, and was suspiciously willing to get a courtesy runner.

Not to worry, we handled WMD just as the A's handled Texas, even though we played a little distracted. A bunch of guys did their usual thing - Lefty was 4-4, and Chuck, Sting, D, Gerry and Chopper all had three hits and Joe got the game winner on a clutch two run single in the gap to put us ahead to stay and the other half of our pitching tandem Larry had a two run double. There was really never a doubt.

I'm a little worried though...when our playoffs come, MLB will be over. We may have to actually focus on our game. What will happen then?

See you in a week plus.

p.s. the title, if you read this far. Reggie told a post game story about a run in with a pet chimp that was actually named Joe, a tale from his wayward youth. It included sex drugs and rock and roll. Not for the faint of heart. For those that didn't stay long enough, it had to be one of the funniest stories I have ever heard. It was one of those stories that was so good, he could not have made a bit of it up. And he said words I never thought I would hear. Reggie was in terrible fear, of the mad chimp. Ask him sometime, I'm sure he will tell you. Or wait until the memoirs come out - I am thinking of a collaboration, 'The Story of Sting', as told to the heffinator. Coming to Amazon sometime in the next ten years.

p.s.s. great to have Pope back.

Milestones:

Gerry       500 h (#9)
Lefty        100 rbi (#20)

The Catch

I wrote in a previous post about the memory, and how it changes events. Things you thought, just were not so. Just the other night, I was talking to a teammate about the '68 World Series; he's from Detroit and I am from St. Louis. The Tigers and Cardinals played in the World Series that year. My memory is seeing the game that put the Cardinals up three games to one in that Series and then they blew it and lost the next three games. He insisted that that game was in Detroit, so unless I traveled to Michigan, that was not the game I saw. I do remember that Bob Gibson pitched the first game, and set a Series record with 17 strikeouts. We were supposed to go to that game but it was on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year for Jews. We spent the morning in synagogue, and came home and watched it on TV. Instead we must have gone to Game Two, which the Cardinals lost 8-1, as I found out when I looked it up. So there you have it, I don't have a single memory of the one World Series game I ever experienced in person.

Which gives a pinch of salt to the following. Some of it may be true some may be not. Here is the story: I also remember that my dad caught a foul ball sometime in the 50s at Sportsman Park, the original St Louis baseball venue that later became known as Busch Stadium. In those days they gave you an actual scroll when you caught one; I clearly remember seeing it. Eventually he gave me the ball. But a ten year old has no appreciation for history and the rarity of events. As soon as I was a ball short to play with in the street, and it was the only one available, I started playing with it. I used it until the cover was coming off, and then one day, someone overthrew it, and it rolled down the street, across the intersection, and into the sewer. Gone.

Later I felt guilty about it. I mean, that ball should have been on the mantle and I just simply disrespected it.

Another time, I have a vague memory, when I was really young, of attending a game with my father, mother and my sister. I was only eight or ten at the most. At some point in the game, they all three got up to go to the bathroom. Being a FAN, I moved from the farthest seat from home plate to the nearest in our group of four. I mean, how unfair was it that my sister got to sit closer? And before they got back, my mind has this happening...a towering foul ball goes up, and it drifts closer and closer, and I can't seem to track it, and it hits the seat that I had vacated.

I don't know how much of any of this is true; I hold them to be true regardless.

But here is what I know is true: Today, I caught a foul ball at an Oakland A's game at the Coliseum. I finally got one after all these years.

My friend Don helped me with some woodwork repair (he is a wood artist), and I happened to pick up the board he fixed for me yesterday. While I was there, a friend of his called him up and offered him his box seats for today's A's game. Later that night Don called and asked if I wanted to go. Of course! Who wouldn't?

We had seats in the sixth row behind the visitors' dugout. They were fabulous. I was late, we didn't get there until the bottom of the second. He gave me my ticket, it was the aisle seat and he had seat two. I thought of giving him the aisle seat, but something held me back.

Before we got there, the A's had made a couple of errors, and given up a run, and then the next time Seattle was up they hit a couple of bombs, and by the seventh the A's had five hits to the Mariners' three, but were trailing 4-1. It seemed at that point that it was a waste of great seats. The good guys were going to lose, and I even kind of lost focus on the game.

And then in the bottom of the seventh up strode Derek Norris, the A's rookie catcher. I don't even remember how many outs there were or what the count was. But then he hit this flare foul, and it was coming our way. Time slowed down, and seemed to stop completely. No one moved, except me. I just slid out of my seat, and got under it in the aisle, and it just floated and floated, and I reached up and speared it one handed. And it stuck in my palm. Everyone around cheered. Guys were giving me high fives, everyone was telling me nice grab. One guy, who was actually sitting closer to it on the other side of the aisle, left when the A's still trailed in the eighth (!), and on the way out said "Great Catch."

It was what we all dream of when we go to the games. And here's the thing: The A's got one back in the eighth, a game tying two run homer in the bottom of the ninth by Josh Donaldson, and a three run walk-off  by Brandon Moss, after he saved the game in the top of the ninth with a great defensive dive. They won 7-4 in a critical game for their pennant chances.

I'm not saying I turned the game around; I had nothing to do with the A's coming back. These are just the facts. But I have to say that the game changed after that catch, especially for me.

When I got home, I called every teammate that I know is an A's fan to see if they saw it. And every single one seemed to have the same experience, they were doing other stuff or flipping back and forth to the dismal Cal football game or they were out and forgot to record it. They all seemed to start watching in the eighth, and saw the incredible ending. No one saw the amazing play I made.

But Don, he was there. Don doesn't want to be too complimentary, but here is what he said: "It was legitimate." High praise, and I will take it any time.

So I dedicate the ball and the catch to you, Dad. You deserved a son who could respect what you did in your time. And now I have matched you, and I will savor the ball until the end of my time.

p.s. Eventually I found a friend who had a feed from somewhere that recorded all A's games (that's where these pictures came from). I was able to see exactly what was happening at the time of the foul ball that I caught. It turns out that the count had been 2-2 on the previous pitch. Norris swung and missed the 2-2 pitch. The umpire ruled that Norris had foul tipped the ball and it had hit the dirt, so he got another pitch, which he hit to me. However the replay showed that in fact, Norris did NOT foul tip the pitch, and even if he had, the catcher caught it before it hit the ground. So he should have been out in two different ways, but instead he got another chance and so did I. Some things are just meant to be. 

Where's The Love?

The fans love the long ball. It's something I just have to accept.

Sunshine Saloon was up 8-0 in the top of the sixth last night. Sir Guy was pitching brilliantly. Granted, the 4 Speeds do not have a murderers' row - no one will confuse them with the Bronx Bombers of '27, or even Boomer's Bangers, the team to beat in our league. But still, he had a shutout going.

We had played just enough defense behind him to keep the 4 Speeds off the board. Someone said they stranded the bases loaded four times all told. And I had saved the infielders a couple of times on low throws to first - not quite in the dirt, but still with my shoulders that need surgery and my slow to bend 58 year old body, not bad.

And then in the top of the sixth, up steps Reggie with a runner on first, and bang! he hits it over the right center fence. The crowd erupted, all two of our fans. I was in the hole, so I was right there. You would have thought there were dozens of fans. It was like World War Two had ended. Ticker tape. Times Square at New Year's. It was LOUD.

Mark then triples into the gap and I came up and hit a beautiful laced line drive over the shortstop to get him home. I could hear the crowd yawn. Reggie says "nice swing!" That's all I got, and I was thankful for that.

But I am not bitter. So what if the women love the long ball. My girl appreciates the line drive. And she knows baseball too.

OK maybe I am a just a little jealous. But I will probably never hear that cheer, unless something extraordinary happens, and if it does, you better go to church or your other place of worship, because the end of the world really is coming.

In the mean time, our second shutout in two weeks, this one ending 16-0. We are officially on a roll. It is coming together for this team, and we have some momentum and confidence going into the stretch run. We are technically not out of the race for first, and have a realistic chance of ending third and even second it we can put it together after our bye week next week.

Mark had a Mark game, 3-4 with a double and a triple. Larry and Bill and Mongo and Tom (cough cough do I hear camped under it in the first?) stayed hot with three hits each, and Reg drove in four with the homer and a triple. Bob's found his stroke and he had two solid hits, and his two with Steve's two provided evidence yet again that if the bottom of the order hits, we win. Tim drove in two with a double and a single. And Heffe had two run scoring singles, and that laced line drive over the SS was a thing of beauty.

Too bad our bye comes now - but it remains our task to keep the momentum up over the next two weeks for our next game. We might even be tied for second by then :)

Until then, dream of that home run over the fence and the crowd going wild. Except Reg and Mark - you can just remember.

OKYCHIFTM

The Title, it stands for "OK, You Can Hit It Farther Than Me." - Quote from Cage, when RB hit his second shot over the fence, opposite field in left center, for a single. His first, a towering blast to right, nearly landed in Dublin five miles north of the field.

It was a single because he and Cage had already gone yard. the latter continues to be our hottest hitter of the fall, and in fact, his HR, leading off our eleven run sixth that salted the game, set a record for home runs in the shorter fall seasons (5). Two more to tie the all time record for any season, no pressure.

I have to cede the floor to our hero, Cage at this point. We played the Big Kahunas, who used to have our number, and routed them in the end 24-8. We now have taken the lead in our all time series with them 5-4. They are hard to hate now - they lost two of their a-holes, and their leadoff hitter/second baseman-turned-catcher apparently stopped drinking, rumor has it, and has mellowed a lot. Interestingly, they are not nearly as good a team since they lost their over the top edge.

But Nick is always good for something chippy (as are many of us) with the other team. I will quote him:

"My favorite part of the game: In the 1st inning I walked off the field very slowly as my ankle was killing me and didn't want to turn it on a jog in the grass, I broke a light jog as I hit the dirt passing the RF heading out to his position, when he says: "long run huh?"  I took that as an asshole comment, but said nothing....until about the 6th inning when I was walking out to the field and he was walking in from his position, clearly defeated...I think the score was well out of hand at this point.  I said: "long run huh."  He said nothing."

Some stats: Cage, RB, and Hama went 12-12, double, two HRs (plus the single over the fence), 14 RBIs (seven from RB), 10 runs, and two walks. The rest of us weren't too shabby, either (Jason 3-3 with two sacs, Sir Guy stayed hot at 3-4, Mario 2-2 with 2 walks, and Timmy 3-5 and scored four runs, an off game).

ESPN moment a throwout from center to Jason, and then a strike to Monty at home to gun down a suddenly Little Kahuna.

If we lose ALL our games the rest of the year, this will tie 2005 for our best record ever as a team. That ain't happening.

Which means last night we tied the record for wins in a year, and we have half the losses we did that year, and that was a pretty damn good year, the year of Ryan Baxter. We also set a team record for wins in a season in Spring that year (10-2), and this season we can tie that with two more wins.

We have eliminated everyone but the Show Boaters in the race for first place. They trail by two with three left; obviously we can send them packing next week too as we play them heads up. Even if we lose, they would have to beat us by +17 to gain any tiebreaker advantage, so all we would have to do is won one more of the last two.

In other words, this is fun, and I'd say we are in a pretty good position wouldn't you? Are they giving out cotton for both the season and the playoffs this year?

Let's win one, and take our chances.

Milestones:

Heffe        50 r (#4)
Sir Guy     750 ab (#6)
Jason        200 h (#12)
Rams        50 g (#23)
RB           50 rbi (#29)

Conementum

My new boss Ross, who I suspect is a potential softball slut, liked to hear me bring in the scores on the mornings after. "19-2", "19-1", "24-3", "23-8", "14-3", "23-0", and Monday "21-4" (my other teams are doing as well as the Coneheads).

After three weeks of dominating wins he asked, "Aren't you bored?" And the thing is NO, I am not at all bored.

Lefty is another story, but that will wait for another day.

However, it does give me pause as a writer. It's a challenge. I mean, how many times can I say Chuck made a great play in the hole and nailed an idiot trying to go to third when he didn't have to run?

I have to dig a little deeper, and effuse, and enthuse, and elucidate. And alliterate. And finally pontificate.

On...what makes us a great team? And here is what I came up with:

It's ego without selfishness. We have some characters - some love to talk, some never listen, some love to stink us (OK one). You have to have a little ego, a little swagger, to succeed in any sport, especially baseball, because whether it is when you come up to bat and there are two outs and no one on, or if you are pitching to some young guy stronger and faster than you who could take your head off with a line drive, or chasing down a ball in the gap, you have to have that knowledge that you will prevail. And then in the handshake line those young guys are shaking their heads as much as they shake your hand, it's like a chorus of "how did that just happen?" when we whip them.

Case in point and the highlight of Monday's game. Greg has been scuffling, for him, in the batter's box. Which for him means over .500 instead of .650 or .700. Well, he comes up in the fourth after Chuck had knocked in one and then he and Sting and D loaded the bases, and the Knight just wills the ball into the left center gap, and doesn't stop running until he is getting high fives in the dugout for a salami. We were already ahead comfortably 8-1 (comfortable for everyone except Joe of course), but that shot made the statement to the Speed Goats, "you just don't have a chance against this team."

The beauty of this game and this team is not knowing who it is going to be next week that has your back or gives us the highlight reel - we seem to be very good at sharing that. Some of us do it by hitting gap homers, and some by getting consistent soft liners to keep the line moving, but it is all about what can I do to contribute. And that is what makes us a great team.

There is the data - Chuck had a monster game, 4-4 with two doubles and three RBIs as a leadoff hitter, Heffe with the four paints, Gerry three of the same and a walk, Randy with such a bomb triple (that gave us the lead we never gave up in the second) that I scored from first (five RBIs total to lead the team), Sting a similar blast. And of course we turned a couple of double plays, I would put our infield up against anyone's, whether it's Randy or Greg or Ol' hurt G or D or even me to go with Chuck.

Who will it be this Monday?

4-0 at the half way point. Not half bad, Heads. Next victim, WMD. Let's show them what destruction is.

Milestones:

NONE!!! See, ego without selfishness

Committing Harry Caray

You thought this was going to be about harakiri, often miswritten as harikari, according to wikipedia. It refers to a form of seppuku (or ritual suicide), which in turn means literally "the cutting of the belly."

You see I grew up with Harry Caray as the lead broadcaster of the St. Louis Cardinals, along with sidekick Jack Buck. This was long before he became a caricature of himself as an old slurring drunk guy at Wrigley Field doing the Cubs' 7th inning stretch; he was actually run out of town by the Cardinals, purportedly because he had an affair with the daughter-in-law of Auggie Busch, the owner of the Cardinals and Busch/Budweiser Beer. The way I heard it, he and the woman were drunk and stumbled out of the bar of the locally famous Chase-Park Plaza Hotel onto Kingshighway Blvd. in St. Louis, and there was some sort of car accident and they were busted big time; after all if you are married, you really shouldn't sleep with the wife of the heir apparent of your boss's corporation, even if you are a huge consumer of his products.

As a kid, I was always confused, why does the broadcaster's name mean suicide in Japan? And then he went and committed professional suicide. You see - everything in life ultimately makes sense.

That is irony; you thought this was going to be about a negative thing. No, it is because the trademark of Harry Caray as a broadcaster doing the games was when there was a big fly, he would ring out, "It might be, it could be, it is, a HOME RUN." It was his trademark call.

And I have been thinking this about the Sunshine Saloon team. It might be, it could be and it remains to be seen if we actually become a playoff team, but we took another giant step Wednesday night as we beat the Oaks, our main competition for the lower spots in the playoff hunt, by a ringing score of 18-16. In fact we are tied for third, and still could be playing for second or third before the season is over.

I can't remember exactly, and Sunshine is the one team play for that I have never kept the standings myself, and damn Pleasanton stopped archiving the scores from seasons past. But I swear we have almost always if not literally always lost to the Oaks in the 2+ years I have been on this team. It usually goes like this: we take a lead, they come back, it's close for a while and then they rise up and nose us out, or completely blow us out of the water at that point.

But not this week.

This week, they scored two in the first and we answered with five. They scored two twice more and then five in the top of the fourth, but in between we had a five run inning without making an out. This was a continuation of how hot we were last week, but against much stiffer competition.

All this damage was done by the top of the order. Tom stayed hot; he didn't make an out all night, with a couple of hits and a couple of borderline errors that he hustled out. Nor did Larry nor Mark W, who drove in six on the night. Mongo, Heffe, Darrell and Tim also had hits their first two times up in these rallies, and Sir Guy had a sac and a two run single. We were unstoppable.

The Oaks answered with their five, and there we were in the bottom of the fourth trailing, teetering on the edge of where we had been so many times against the them. Going down. But not this time. The bottom of the order rose up and with singles by Mark V and Steve, and a walk to our leader Don we set it up for the top to plate three more.

After that there was a quiet exchange of zeroes in the fifth, and we held them in the sixth. And damned if the same thing didn't happen, this time starting with Bob - three hits and another walk to Don set the table for another five spot, highlighted by Mark's inning ending gapper with the bases loaded.

We were all set with an 18-11 lead going into the open seventh inning. The Oaks would not go quietly. They played smart, hitting line drives and the machine was in motion - one run, two, three, when would it end? And we missed a couple of fly balls we really should have had, and the uhohs were in the house. And up stepped Ron the fattest player on the planet, who can't run, and can't hit it very far, but I have to admit, he can place it as well as anybody, present company included. He proceeds to hit a dribbler up the middle past the mound, and our rover who shall remain nameless, couldn't come up with it, and the flood gates stayed open. They got within just a few but then on a ball destined to the LC gap, our leadoff hitter and hero Tom Terrific made the statement of the game; he said no mas, and cut it off in mid-air, and there were two outs. The tying and perhaps the lead run was on base (we still weren't completely dead even if they tied it or took a lead because we had the hammer, but we didn't want it to come to that), but they popped up to end the game.

A big sigh was had by all.

It means we have our destiny in our own hands. New territory for this team, but we might just be on to something. Before it's over even Boomer's may fear us - they only got us by one run to start this roll.

It continues next week. Reggie will be in the house. Don't roll out the red carpet, he doesn't want that kind of treatment. He just wants on this wagon train, he knows a good thing. See you then.

The Magic is in the Dugout

Jason: I have to explain once again.The Game Winning RBI, no longer sanctioned on any level of organized ball, is the run batted in that puts a team ahead to stay in a game you win. Simple, even if obsolete.

You have the advantage here, now that you are a power hitter. You lead off, all you have to do is go yard, and the way we are playing we will never trail again, and voila you can get four the rest of the season.

OK?

I say this because Jas went yard twice in our latest rout, 14-3, over the outmatched Richert Lumber team. He called his shot - we were both early to the field, and walked in together. "Winds blowing out to left on field 3," he muttered. "I'm going out tonight." And then he DID it. Twice. He didn't tell me it would be twice either. OK, I am impressed.

But no GWRBI. That is because we started as slow as Richert. It was 0-0 through two. They did, because...well because Sir Guy was dealing as usual, but who was that catcher? He called a helluva game. Oh, me? Bill's Earned Run Average when I catch the whole game: 3.00. Who's your Daddy?

If you look at the box score, it didn't seem like a typical rout. Except for D with his usual four hits (and mostly they were grounders that found their way through), and our latest super sub Jesse (3-4 with a double and a triple), a lot of guys had kinda off games. But there was no panic, just a quiet calm that we would win as usual. Confidence is a great thing when you are going well. We are playing like the Giants and 49ers - just go out, know you will, and then crush the opposition.

There is always a moment when you know it's over. In this one, it was Mario handling a tough liner in the outfield (playing second, don't get me started), that is bobbling it momentarily, and when the runner goes from third, totally hosing him with a bullet to me at home. Game over. I don't remember the score, but the statement was "don't even think it, you aren't coming back on this defense."

Mario had a good hitting game, with three hits including a double as did Sir Guy, 2-3 with yet another two bagger.

And so it goes. The magic is in our dugout this season, and the magic number is two. I say this knocking on wood, my head and anything else around me. But if we can win the next one, then we can win the next one and it's over. We have lofty goals this season, let's get them.


Milestones:

Coop     250 rbi (#4)
Mario    150 g (#10)
Jas        300 ab (#12)
Rams    20 2b (#16)

Ya Gotta Gimme Sumpin'

Open letter to the Coneheads:

Ya gotta give me a break. Give me something to write about. I'm turning into the Craig of the pen. Throw me a bone. Give up a lead. Come from behind. Go yard back to back to back. Hit a walkoff grand slam. Goose me. Something! Puleeeeeze?

How many times can I write about great hitting and defense? How can I write about starting the game with ten straight singles? Where is the drama in that? We lost one inning tonight 1-0. There is your drama of the evening.

I need G back, and not just for his blasts and his defense. I need him to come and get a key injury in the championship game. Now THAT is drama. Or come back and  finish a fight. Hell, start a fight. I don't care. I just need some new material.

We blasted the poor saps du jour, the Angry Ground Balls, 23-5, and it wasn't that close. Almost all singles. Derek had the decency to hit a couple of deep balls late for doubles, and Sting joined him his last time up. Besides that it was 28 singles in four innings. A nifty .738 team average. The ten straight in the first with no outs is undoubtedly a team record. At least Gerry said I don't have to research it, it is obvious.

And I know how they got their nickname, the AGB. When we hit grounders, they were just too hot to handle for them, and thus the anger. That dirt must hold demons for them but to Chuck it's just another day at the office. We should change our name to Easy Ground Balls. Cause we make it look easy. As when Chuck and Randy turned a 6-4-3 DP with runners on first and second. I just wish I had an arm, because the lead runner strayed a little too far off third. Now that would have been a highlight, the 6-4-3-5 triple play. Doesn't happen every day, nor today. As it was they got runners to third with less than two outs at least twice and didn't score him.

Four hits were struck by Sting, Heavy D, the Knight and Heffe. D had six RBIs.

Joe had the longest (by time) fielder's choice in the history of softball. He hit a one hop shot to third, the baseman tagged the bag for the force, and threw in the dirt to first. The ball rolled away from the first baseman, neared the second baseman. Joe stopped hobbling, read the sportspage, had a beer, ran to the bathroom, gave himself the stink eye in the mirror, and still they hadn't picked up the ball. "Run, Joe, Run" came the chorus from the dugout. "Run it out like it matters!" Joe tiptoed to first. "Safe" came the cry of the ump. Another run to make it 9-0. And so it went.

And I didn't make that up. Well, some of it. But that is what you have driven me to. And truth be told, it's just fine by me. More (or less) drama next week.

Milestones:

Chuck        950 h (#1)
Lefty          150 ab (#22)

p.s. Happy Birthday Chuck.