Slumps

When I don’t write for a while, that likely means I am working through a lot of changes in terms of what’s going on in my mind. Or (and) that I am battling myself to return to a frame of reference inside of myself that I do understand. In a word, it means that I am in a slump.

I’ve had a lot of trouble with the day-to-day aspects of my life lately. I’ve found it hard to deal with waking up, with becoming inspired, with getting myself out of my little apartment. Sometimes I wish that I were forced to just be somewhere every day, to get out of bed, to dress myself in a particular type of clothes, and to be out of the house by some hour. But that’s not what happens in the graduate student world. I don’t have a boss, a manager, telling me to be at this place, in this proper outfit, at this certain time. So I have had to rely on me, and lately, I haven’t been the best person to rely upon. And it has sucked to feel that way.

So when I see someone in a slump like Manny Ramirez (but folks, he’s coming out of it – he hit the ball well and hard yesterday and today, and in this morning’s game he came like two feet short of getting it over the Monster – his hands are moving faster, I think; they seem more connected with the bat), I can’t help but wonder how it feels to have your slumps broadcast and scrutinized by reporters nationwide - of the pen and pad, of the radio, of the television, all over the place. I am a huge fan of Manny, by the way, and as crazy fans do, I feel like I have this secret connection with him, so maybe I have more empathy for him than for other baseball players, but being in a slump – in one word – SUCKS.

The fact that I am writing tonight says something about my coming out of my own inner self. The question remains: what do you need to get out of a slump? Did I need (yes) one person pointing it out to me so directly in order for me to snap out of it – and not that that’s a one day panacea – but it WAS the point of recognition and of subsequent change – for me to see that I was slumping so badly that I needed to make some changes? Maybe Papi or Papa Jack will suggest, or have been suggesting, some changes to Manny’s swing or his approach at the plate, or maybe he’s recognized on his own that he needs to make some changes in order to be the “Manny” being “Manny” we all love (and hopefully, whom he loves too) – but personally, I needed to hear from someone else very important to me that I needed to make changes to my own recent not-so-great approach to life. And thus, I am coming out of my slump.

I would be negligent if I did not mention one more thing right now: Congratulations to Pedro for your 200th win tonight. As someone who’s not scared of anything, you deserve it, and your fearlessness in going at batters, combined with your ridiculous talent, have made you the most dominant pitcher I’ve ever seen and the most entertaining to watch. Thanks for everything you did for the Sox, and for your new Mets fans. You, too, in your unique way, are an inspiring human being.

Springing Ahead

So I’ve substituted my nightly ritual of watching Sex and the City and sipping a glass of red wine before bed for watching countless baseball games (yes, I purchased the MLB EI package as soon as it was available) and drinking Crystal Light lemonade.

Despite what the New York weather might be trying to tell us, it’s spring. And spring makes me happy. And among the many things that make me happy about spring, baseball and lemonade rank quite high on my list.

And despite the fact that watching the end of a Red Sox game (already, only one series into the season) is enough to make any good fan reach for a beer to quell the inevitable “how will they blow this” nerves that start piercing the stomach like an automated, well-trained response, I have made my choice. There’s nothing I can do about what my friends through the glass box will do, even if I physically change my shirt from my Ortiz jersey to my Ramirez tee, at times with the quickness of an actress changing her costume between scenes, between their at-bats. I can do that, I can yell at the screen, I can dissect Francona’s managerial decisions (by the way, and this has already been dissected and lauded by Sox fans, so I won’t harp on it, but thank you for putting in Papelbon last night instead of Foulke), but ultimately, I am a fan of the game and the game itself and I have to enjoy what I enjoy about it, which is the illusion (it snowed yesterday in New York, okay?) of spring and sunshine and the realization that I will be able to enjoy this game, and what it means to me, and the people who play it and epitomize it for the next six, almost seven, months.

Here it is an off-day for both the Sox and the Evil Empire – I mean, the Yankees – and so I am watching Detroit vs. Texas, loving what I am learning about each player and the teams’ various strategies, loving that there are different announcers for each team, each with their own flavors, and loving the local commercials because they teach me so much about the variety that exists within American culture, depending on the location of the home team.

Okay. We’ve all (for the most part) “sprung ahead” with our clocks; it’s time for me to spring ahead in my mentality. Darkness into light, winter into spring, solitude into solidarity. Happy spring.

responsibility or baseball?

A lot going on right now (inside my head) so it's sort of paralyzed me in terms of writing. Sorry...

But, excuse me, baseball season is BACK, something slightly more concrete than my life at the moment, and despite the fact that my team was blown out tonight - and MANNY, come ON, HIT - nothing that I saw was more hilariously (in not a nice way, and even though I am the antithesis of a MFY's fan, this is stil objective) embarassing behavior by a player than A-Rod's reaction to his base-running error and his subsequently being tagged out after being rundown between first and second.

Sometimes we all get rundown between first and second. Sometimes we all get caught in that space between not knowing whether we should sprint forward or step back. And sometimes we blindly have faith in the fact that the person in front of us will continue on the path that we believe they will and that therefore, we should move ahead at full speed, at our full capacities. But sometimes that person doesn't.

And then, we can't take our frustration and emotions out on third-person parties (and it was clear that A-Rod's F*&^ was directed to someone who was NOT himself, i.e. his third base coach or Sheffroid) when it happens. Because we all make mistakes. Hell, the "reigning AL MVP" did. And taking responsibility for our mistakes is hard to do, but we need to do it, in order to take responsibility for our own characters.

We can be sad, we can be mad, we can be upset beyond dimensions we would have never imagined and feel pain we would not wish upon our worst enemies - but we need to take responsibility for ourselves. Because only in understanding our own mistakes and in trying to change our corresponding actions can we really take on our own, individual, and incredibly important roles in our worlds.

Not that I want A-Rod to take on the role of AL MVP again this season - I am clearly for Ortiz in that camp - but that's baseball. And sometimes, the rules that create the parameters of the game also can be applicable to our own selves. Maybe that's why I, like all the advertisements say, "live for this."

And maybe the game of baseball holds in it a hell of a lot of lessons that we could transpose into our own lives.