Unfaithful lover of the links

I have been trying for quite some time to come up with a good explanation about how I feel about the game of golf. This weekend the words may have come to me. I am going to attempt to explain it like this.

Golf is a beautiful girl. You met her and you guys just hit it off so well. You went on a date and got ice cream and laughed into the moonlight and you realized that you want to hang out with her all the time. Things are going well.

It's a lot like that with golf. You can go out on a beautiful day and hit a round that you talk about well into the week. Every shot feels good and you stand in awe as your drives soar down the middle of the fairway and your putts fall into the hole with satisfying ease! You want to see these links everyday.

Then tragedy strikes. Just when you think you have the girl of your dreams in your arms you come around the corner at school and see her making out with your best friend. Betrayed. That is how she makes you feel. What hurts most is all that you can think about is the laughter you shared and the fond memories you can created.

That is golf. You had a great round and hit the ball like a pro. You visit the course the next weekend with a renewed vigor and an appreciation. Then you pound your first drive a mile right of the fairway into the Amazon rain forrest and that's when you realize: golf is cheating on you with your best friend.

Leaving home

The time has flown by and my stay at home has come to an end. Time to get back to school and work. This has been one of the best months I have ever had. I have learned so much about myself and what I want to do. I got so involved with a community the short time I was here covering Little League, that it made me realize that this is what it is all about.

Most aren't going to be professional but every kid has the chance to play the same games and dream like they will be one day, and that is the most rewarding thing I think a job at a community newspaper can bring.

I can't wait to start there. Eventually I will want to cover big sports and that excitement that comes with being in sold-out stadiums with screaming fans, but there is so much to be said for watching parents cheer on their kids, foul ball or home run.

I am going to miss you Sierra Vista. Monsoons, cool evenings, and summer ball games with the family. Life doesn't get a whole lot better than that.

Going downhill

I just came across one of the most ludicrous articles I have ever read.

http://www.myfoxcleveland.com/myfox/pages/Home/Detail;jsessionid=D2D5C20A057CD2FE8AB0564737F27F6D?contentId=6856475&version=8&locale=EN-US&layoutCode=TSTY&pageId=1.1.1&sflg=1

Apparently a Little League organization in Ohio cancelled an All-Star team because of a letter written stating that it was humiliating to the kids who weren't good enough to be selected to the All-Star team. What?

So kids shouldn't be rewarded for being skilled at the sport because it might make the fat kid jealous? I am sorry, but this is where we are becoming so soft it's disgusting. What is more disappointing, a kid who has fun all season but quite honestly isn't very good so he doesn't make the All-Star team, or a talented young ballplayer who has worked hard every day and loves to play the game but can't have a postseason because the kids who aren't really good, probably because they are too lazy to try, will be hurt? I am going with the latter.

I spent the last week covering Little League for a small community team and it was the time of these kids' lives. They got better and had a ton of fun along the way. They deserved it! They played hard and they wanted to get better. What are we coming to where you would take that away from a kid. Ridiculous!

Why do I even play?

Throughout the course of a blazingly hot Sunday afternoon in Mesa, Arizona I became convinced of one thing.

Satan invented golf.

There are probably several factors for this heavy realization, the least of which not being the fact that walking outside attempting to play a game in 115 degree heat is not something anyone should subject themselves to. What makes me truly believe that this so-called majestic game is the handy work of El Diablo is the absolute rage the game produces within me.

I hit very few good drives. Usually I get to experience a vast landscape of nature and wildlife as I search the outermost boundaries of the golf course for anything resembling my poorly hit golf ball. The frustration of mass destruction, however, does not come from the shanks off the tee, but rather following a perfect middle-of-the-fairway drive.

Several times during our outing on Sunday (several being a fairly loose term), I hit a couple of perfect (by my less than stellar standards) drives into the fairway that gave me confidence that perhaps my subpar game was heading to at least somewhere towards bogey respectability. But every time I would walk to my ball in the fairway looking to reach a green in regulation the result would always be the same. A horrendous golf shot.

There are fewer things in sport that I have experienced more frustrating than following a glorious, sexy drive with a 50 yard, laughable ground ball. Never do I long for the use of a time machine more than when I am out on the links. This would allow me to travel to 12th Century Scotland and discourage the locals there from creating such a ludicrous game.

The problem with golf, though, is that like Satan does with all his evils, he tempts you to enjoy its temporary pleasures even when you know they are just that. Has anyone ever had true sustained happiness during the course of a golf round? You tell me their name and I will call them a liar.

And then there is the laughter. The darn laughter. Get four buddies who make a lot of pretty funny shots on the course and you are in for a rib-busting afternoon.

My buddy Hank: Nick, what did you score on that hole?

Me: I don't know. Hey, what's four plus completely horrible at golf.

Hank: I'll put you down for an eight.

Side-splitting laughter occurs.

And as much as I know the horrors golf can bring into my life, though, I will likely never be able to stay away.

74 Days

That is how long until I begin my dream job. Well okay so the the job I am beginning in two and a half months does not pay enough to cover my monthly rent so I guess it can't be considered my dream job, but it is certainly a step in the right direction.

On Aug. 30, the ASU football team will kickoff its season against the Lumberjacks from Northern Arizona. And I will be in the press box for the start of what should be a very exciting season.

I have spent a good majority of my free time pouring over a seemingly endless pile of statistics about the Sun Devils. I have been studying depth charts, watching highlight videos of incoming freshmen, reading experts' analysis, and trying somehow make sense out of the vast landscape that is college football. Throughout all this I have realized that covering Arizona State football is going to be a class in itself, an icredible launching off point with a world of learning in front of me.

My new office

A Perfect Season

I probably felt the pressure more than he did. So did the rest of his family. Antonio, my 10 year old stepbrother, took the hill on Saturday to pitch in the Sierra Vista Little League Minors Division Championship. His team the Cardinals came in to the game with a 19-0 record, but were playing against a team in the Rangers whose only blemish on their season was a tie ballgame.

First inning. Strikes the first batter out with three straight pitches and I knew he was on his game. He throws pretty fast for a kid his age, but what makes him great is his consistency. He strikes out two in the inning and allows only one baserunner.

In the bottom of the inning the Cardinals got two runs, and it would be all Antonio would need to secure the victory as he game up only one run in five innings pitched, a feat pretty rare in a Little League game.

As they made their last out he threw his glove in the air and raised his fists, the perfect season complete.

Oh the ever swaying emotions

UPDATE ON THE POST BELOW: Tonight they made me a super satisfied fan. Hopefully that will continue.

More than any other sport, baseball is an absolute roller coaster ride. For me, the general highlight of a summer day for me is settling down in the evening to watch my Diamondbacks. My what an infuriating highlight it can be. Take the last two days for example. The boys played day games in Pittsburgh on Sunday and Monday meaning that they started around 10 a.m. here at home. How exciting to have breakfast (both were days off work for me), read the paper and watch my boys play ball.




The problem with all this, though, is my team is playing horribly. So much so that it is infuriating to watch. These days, as I just saw our rightfielder make what has the be the 15th error of this road trip, I can't help but be overcome with Hulk-like anger.





It is a blessing and curse we as fans of the sport must endure. Even when a team is playing well they still go through stretches of three or four straight losses that make in seem like Armageddon is heading for your club's ballpark. On the flip side of that, a nice sweep of a three-game series in the middle of long stretch of losing can still give a fan hope that maybe, just maybe, your team is going to be ok. I just hope the players know what us as hardcore fans go through.