2000 Regular Season: August 2000 Archives

Trina feels it is her duty to remind me on a regular basis how many times I miss church during the baseball season. She is as relentless as the official scorer of a baseball game tallying up the Sunday's where I am at the ballpark rather than in the church listening to a lesson that she is sure has been especially given just for my benefit. On days when the Diamondbacks are out of town on a road trip, I would like nothing better than to sit down and watch the game. I find it nearly impossible to do that though with Trina standing in front of the television lecturing me on my supposed lack proper priorities. There are times when I am feeling particularly brave that I suggest that perhaps it is HER than has a warped sense of priority. This usually leads to a long and painful discussion which in the end leaves me in the dog house and Trina steaming around the ears. So reluctantly, I got up this morning knowing the Diamondbacks had a morning game in New York and got ready to go to church. Just before it was time to leave, I made an excuse that I had forgotten to brush my teeth and suggested that they go ahead and I would walk over as soon as I was done. Trina gave me that serious look that I immediately took as a warning if I came into church late. As they went out the front door, I rushed upstairs and put toothpaste on the brush all while turning on the television. It was the bottom of the second inning and there was no score. I watched another inning while watching the clock to make sure I wasn't late. Fortunately for me, the third inning ended at the same time that I needed to leave. I rushed to the church and made it through the door just as the prelude music ended. I sat there trying hard to look interested in what was being said while my mind wandered to the game as I wondered who was winning. Carefully, I reached into my pocket and quietly sent a page to Yahoo! asking for a baseball score update. A minute later, I slid the pager out of my pocket and quickly glanced at the screen. The Mets were up 1-0. I again attempted to listen and pay attention to the lesson but soon found myself checking my pager again. "Yes!" I said as the Diamondbacks scored to tie the game at 1-1. I looked up to find those sitting around me turning to stare and Trina was looking at me strangely. She had not seen my pager as I had it hidden between me and Mallorie. I quickly whispered to all those around me that I thought the speaker had made an especially inspired point. They seemed to buy that and the meeting continued. As soon as the closing prayer was given, I made an excuse that I thought I had left the door unlocked and rushed back to see the final two innings. Unfortunately, the Mets scored again and won 2-1. This church stuff isn't as bad as I remembered it.

After a night of watching Randy Johnson get shelled in his worst outing as a Diamondback, I wasn't sure I was up to watching any baseball today, especially a game featuring the Los Angeles Dodgers and the Chicago Cubs. I am always somewhat confused about how the Fox network determines who they will feature in their game of the week. I mean outside of LA and Chicago, this game has very little meaning. Yeah, the Dodgers have been hot lately winning their last five games, but they are still 9 games out with a month left to play. Besides, Gary Sheffield is serving his suspension from the last time these teams met in Chicago. By game time though, I had decided watching the Cubs was better than not watching any baseball. I turned the television on and sat on the couch. I had not expected Fox to do their tribute to the history of televising baseball. At the beginning of the game, they had a half an inning using cameras and microphones from 1939. I cannot imagine watching an entire season like that. The bottom half of the inning was presented as if from 1944. The game continued as new innovations were shown in television broadcasting. From 1953 to 1961 you could see how far technology had come. Then in 1969 when baseball was first televised in color (I use the term loosely). Then 1974 and 1985 as computerized graphics and the split screen were institutionalized. Finally, there was 1996 when Fox began broadcasting the game of the week. It was fascinating and riveting and I found myself reminiscing about all that had happened in my lifetime. I began to appreciate how lucky we are today. We have more camera angles and better sound than many who venture to the game. My only regret is that Fox did not take this idea one step further and show us what a game would be like using High Definition television. Granted, there are millions of households who cannot yet see this distinction, but there are also many who can. I for one would be interested in seeing what the future of baseball broadcasting will look like.

I am a baseball fan and I pride myself on following the game almost religiously. Okay, maybe almost was an understatement. In the spring I attempt to go to as many Cactus League games as I can manage to sneak out of work to see. During the season, I attend every home Diamondbacks games and either listen or watch every away game that is played. I have not missed watching the baseball playoffs or World Series since I was the age of 10. In the fall, I attend the Arizona Fall League games to watch the budding stars. During the winter, I comb the Internet to find news on the winter leagues to see how players are doing. I have begun to even think of Peter Gammons as a father figure that I should send a card to on Father's Day. But the fall and winter are the most difficult times due to the fact that little baseball is being played. For that reason, I am forced to watch football. That barbaric game where men attempt to maim each other while suffering steroid-induced madness. To pass the time, several of us form a fantasy football league (as if I would ever have a fantasy of owning a team made up of 55 missing links). Well, needless to say, I am less than enthusiastic about fielding a team. I typically will draft a team and then not look at it again until late December to see how I did. Today marks the start of the Fantasy Football season with the annual draft. To make matters worse, I am picking first. What a waste. Like I even know who should be the number one draft pick. I am sure when I utter my selection everyone will look dumbfounded at why I would take him as the first pick. While I prepare for weeks for the Fantasy Baseball draft, I likely will not look at player statistics until 5 minutes before my turn. To top it off, the draft is being conducted during the Diamondbacks game in New York. Maybe I'll set up an automated job to make selections for me and I can sneak down and watch the game while everyone is busy working on their picks.

After a disappointing and frustrating three game series that saw the Diamondbacks get swept by the Milwaukee Brewers, the best thing that could happen would be to play another game. It doesn't really matter who the game is against, they just need to play against someone. Unfortunately, today is an off day that has the Diamondbacks traveling to New York to face the Mets. This means there is no game either home or away for me to get involved with. This is very frustrating. I would like nothing better than to get the taste of losing out of my mouth. Besides the Diamondbacks being off, have of Major League Baseball has a day of rest. This does little to improve my attitude. After work, I am left to pace the floor without anything to do. As if that is not enough, Trina thinks this would be a great opportunity for me to become closer to the children. She therefore plans a night out for herself leaving me with the kids. This was a mistake she will not soon forget. Instead of wallowing around in self-pity, I decided this would be the perfect time for a little baseball of my own. Since there was a high pollution warning for today and my asthma was acting up, I decided it would be best if we played in the house. Choosing teams, it was me and Whitney against Dakota and Tiffany. The two older girls felt this was a really bad idea and spent the game suggesting we stop before things got out of hand. Of course we felt like they were just being too cautious, our game continued. By the third inning, we had managed to break Trina's Precious Moments girl and the goose figurine and torn a lamp shade. When the picture fell off the wall and broke the glass in the frame, we decided to call the game because of darkness even though it was tied 7-7. I didn't realize how dark it was going to be until Trina returned home. I don't even know why she went out tonight if she is going to come home in such a bad mood. The smile on her face didn't even last half way to first base.

It was the final game of a three-game series between the Arizona Diamondbacks and the Milwaukee Brewers. It was also the final game of the home stand as the Diamondbacks would be leaving after tonight on a six game road trip. It was also Wednesday, a day where the family is going about six different directions. Trina and the older kids have an outing planned tonight and I am going to the game. Tiffany usually has gymnastics but she hasn't gone to a game for a while and decided she would rather go to Bank One Ballpark than practice. So she and I went to BOB in hopes of seeing the team right itself and salvage a win for this series. As always, we arrived at the ballpark early enough to watch batting practice. While the Diamondbacks were up, a ball was hit deep to the outfield where one of the ball boys caught it just below where we were standing. As Tiffany stood there, the ball boy threw the ball to her as the players made their way to the dugout signifying batting practice was over. We stood there for a few minutes and then decided to go over to the first base side. Tiffany decided that she would like to have Jeromy Burnitz's autograph. I questioned her why she wanted a Brewer's autograph. Her answer was simple and to the point. She sees Jeromy Burnitz on the JumboTron every night that she comes to the game. He is shown throwing his bat into the crowd while the announcer explains that the fans should be careful and watch for bats and balls flying into the stands. She did have a point so we made our way over. Tiffany stood back as Jeromy went through outfield practice. When he was finished, she began to call his name in hopes that he would come over and sign her ball. He called and called but he was ignoring her pleas. Soon, Brewers pitcher Juan Acevado came over to where she was standing and asked if Tiffany would like HIS autograph. She looked him straight in the eye and very politely said, "No, that's ok." Acevado looked stunned as he stood there with his hands out assuming she would hand him the ball and pen. After a few awkward moments, he turned and left somewhat dejected. Before long, she caught Jeromy's attention and he came over to give her his autograph. While he was signing, she was busy asking him why he couldn't hold onto his bat. He really had no explanation and wanted nothing more than to sign her ball and get away so he would not have to answer her questions. All in all, it was a pretty good time at the ballpark even if we did lose the game.

After a night where the Milwaukee Brewers had taken the Diamondbacks to task, I began to notice a change in the crowd. Where there were usually fans wearing purple and teal, there were now empty seats. Granted, the Brewers are not one of the better drawing teams on the schedule. In fact, the Diamondbacks had resorted to a 2 for 1 night in hopes of bringing more people to the ballpark. This worked partially, there were a few more bodies in the stands. Unfortunately, they appeared to be Brewers fans. It is relatively easy to spot these fans from the Diamondbacks fans. First off, they talk somewhat differently as if they were a cross between Canadians and those from the Midwest. Second, they all appear to own at least one article of clothing that has green and gold on it. Most of these articles have a large green letter "G". Third, there are more than a few of these fans who seem to believe that dairy products make appropriate head wear. More than once I ran across someone with a chunk of Swiss cheese on their heads. All of these things seem rather odd, I will grant you that, but these fans seem to become more boisterous and obnoxious with each run that their team scored. I have to admit, I rather enjoy the fans from opposing teams as they root for their team. I give them wide berth and admire their courage to come into an opposing city with their team colors on and cheer loudly for their players. Some of my fellow Diamondbacks fans were less than thrilled with the fact that the Brewers were pelting the Diamondbacks pitchers with line drives in route to another Arizona loss. They began to take the cheering of the Brewers fans quite personally and before long there were several confrontations between crowd members providing security personnel to show why they are needed at the ballpark. In the end, there were chunks of foam cheese hats and torn Diamondbacks shirts strewn about the stands as the scoreboard announced another Diamondbacks loss. It will be interesting to see what happens tomorrow when the Brewers attempt to sweep the Diamondbacks. Perhaps I should wear my catchers gear to the game tomorrow.

After what seemed like an eternity, today finally came. It is a time of celebration at our house. After three long months, it is the first day of school! There is no one more excited than Trina. She has been looking forward to this day since May 26 which coincidentally was the first day of summer vacation. Whitney shares in Trina's excitement. She can hardly wait to get back to school. Of course first grade is a major milestone in her life. She finally gets to go to a full day of school and she gets recess every day. There is not much better than that. Tiffany is also excited to go back. She is now in fifth grade and is now part of the senior class of elementary school. She is looking forward to being big girl on campus and telling the smaller children what needs to be done. This year marks the first year we have not had a child in middle school since the year we moved to Arizona. It is just as well as that means there is one less back to school night that I will have to attend. To make up for not having a child in middle school, I have two in high school. Ashley is now a Senior and takes every opportunity to tell us that. She is starting to become quite an independent sort of girl and this year should be quite a challenge as her parent. Mallorie is a Freshman and as such she is torn. On one hand she thinks she is pretty cool now that she is in high school and quickly approaching driving age (only 15 more months she keeps reminding me). On the other hand, she is constantly put in her place that she is still just a child. Ashley reminds her how lowly Freshman are on a daily basis. The one child that is left out of all this excitement is Dakota. Being three, he is still to young to go to school which is a blessing to the teachers I have decided. He was frustrated when everyone got up this morning, dressed in their new clothes and marched out the door to catch the bus. So that he did not feel to left out, Trina made him a lunch and placed it in his Diamondbacks lunchbox that he got at the game a couple of weeks ago. He was feeling pretty good about that. He carried the sandwich and several Hot Wheels cars around most of the day until Dog Dot Com ate the sandwich causing mass hysteria until Trina replaced it. I can see already, it is going to be a long year.

I have to give the Diamondbacks credit. They do make it an experience to go to the game. Sometimes, I wonder whether the actual game is merely a sideshow for all that is going on in the ballpark. Regardless, there is always something for everyone when they attend a game at BOB. I try to attend batting practice before every game. First off, I usually can determine early on who is swinging a bat with confidence and who is struggling. The kids like going that early since they are usually able to get a few players to sign autographs. We can usually score a foul ball or a hit during batting practice which gives the kids a ball to have autographed. Being to the game that early also allows us to get whatever giveaway they are handing out that day. This has allowed us to accumulate a lot of Diamondbacks stuff. After batting practice is over, we will usually watch the Diamondbacks take infield practice and then walk around for a few minutes. Just before going back to our seats, I will get the kids something to eat and then go back to our seats where I will get out my scorebook and begin to enter today's line-up. It is during this period that the Diamondbacks will bring out a small blimp from the visitor's bullpen. This blimp floats around the stadium controlled by a pilot with a radio control. The blimp will float over the field and over the fans in the stands. At times, there are items suspended off the bottom of the blimp that are dropped into the stands to the waiting children. I generally do not pay to much attention to this blimp as I am busy recording line ups and pitching match ups. Today, Dakota was busy wolfing down a hot dog when he stood in his chair and waved his arms in the air. I absently suggested to Dakota that he be careful so he didn't fall and went back to the scorebook. Dakota continued to yell and wave. I looked up to see what was going on when WHAM! something hit me on the head and fell into the scorebook. I was immediately attacked by a pack of wild children all rushing for my scorebook. I ducked for cover grabbing Dakota and the book. After a few seconds of chaos, we were left alone and I returned to my seat. Looking down at my scorebook, I noticed a CD-ROM of the Diamondbacks highlights from 1999. It must have dropped from the blimp and hit me on the way down. I now know how Chicken Little must have felt. I wondered if I should go and find Jerry Colangelo to tell him that the sky was following.

Usually the Arizona Diamondbacks games are in the afternoon on Saturday. This means that I am up relatively early and leave for the game by 10:30 AM. Today's game though was an evening game so I had the whole day to do whatever I pleased before leaving to go to the ballpark at 4:30 PM. I think Trina believed that I would be around to help her with the housework. I am not sure where she got that impression, I'm confident that I didn't say anything about doing dishes or laundry. At least not consciously. Instead, I worked on the computer updating the web site and generally surfing looking for esoteric references to baseball. Before long, the mail arrived and a casually looked through the pile of envelopes to see what had arrived. Sandwiched between offers for more credit cards and Ed McMahon telling me I may already be a winner were two envelopes from the Arizona Diamondbacks. Getting mail from the Diamondbacks is usually the highlight of my day or week. Whether it be an advertisement for some upcoming monster truck rally in the off-season or information on changes to game times, I am always excited to see what the team has to say. To get two pieces of mail is even more exciting. I ripped open the first one to find a letter from Rich Dozer talking about timelines for upcoming events. It's always great to hear from Mr. Dozer even if it is just a form letter. The letter explained that the season was winding down and that it would soon be time to order post season tickets. Post season tickets? I can't believe it is that time of year again. It seems like only yesterday that I was going through seat selection for the 2000 season and now it is almost over. I read and re-read the letter making sure I understood all that Mr. Dozer was saying. I then went to the calendar and circled September 4 to make myself a note to send in my post season order form. The second piece of mail was from ticket sales with my invoice of what I would owe if I were to purchase play-off and World Series tickets. World Series, I cannot even imaging what it would be like to attend a World Series game. For a few moments my mind drifted off to visions of Randy Johnson facing Roger Clemens in Game 6 at Bank One Ballpark before a packed crowd. It is thoughts like this that keeps fans coming to the game of baseball. I love this time of year.

By seven o'clock in the morning I was already in a pretty bad mood. I had gotten probably an hour of sleep last night and that hour was broken up into several periods of a few minutes each. During the night last night, our smoke alarms decided they had behaved long enough. Starting at 1:00 AM, they began to go off approximately every 20 minutes. At first I wondered if there were a fire somewhere and quickly made the rounds to each room looking for signs of fire or smoke. The kids of course were groggy but getting dressed in case of fire. After a check of the house, I gave an all clear and everyone went back to bed. A half hour later, we repeated the process, this time with a different alarm going off. The alarms would take turns going off and on causing me to check the house each time. I attempted to change the batteries thinking that may be setting them off but that only bought me a few minutes of quiet before the process began again. After large amounts of aspirin and cotton stuffed in my ears, I was able to get a few minutes of sleep. As morning arrived, the smoke alarms continued to serenade me. After a very loud breakfast, I got dressed and went to the attic to see if I could find out what was causing this problem. It seems that the storm we received last night had caused some water to short out our central smoke alarm network creating havoc with the current causing the false alarms. I spent the day drying out wire and finding the short and replacing connections to make sure this didn't happen again. By the time evening arrived, I was exhausted. It's a good thing there is a game tonight so I can get some rest and relaxation. It's to bad all I can hear is my ears ringing from the deafening sounds of smoke alarms.

Living in the southwestern desert, I am well accustomed to the scorching heat and dry air. In fact, when you move into the state of Arizona, you are given a list of catch phrases that you use whenever someone mentions the hot summers that we have. At the top of this list is the famous line, "but it's a dry heat." My oven is a dry heat too but I don't go around sticking my head in it. Anyway, the one part of this climate that I am still not used to is the rain. Before we moved here, I of course did some research on the environment and found that the Phoenix area only receives approximately 10 inches of rain per year. No where in the documentation did it say that we would receive these 10 inches in 10 storms. When it finally does decide to storm in Arizona, it really lets loose. The locals call it the monsoon season. Each evening during the late summer months, the sky will be sunny and blue during the day but in the evening it will cloud up and Mother Nature will put on quite a light show with the lightning and thunder that accompanies the downpours. The strangest part about the phenomenon is that only parts of the valley will actually experience the storm. The remainder would never even know there was bad weather if they didn't watch the news. Well tonight was our turn. All evening and going into the night, we were kept awake by flickering lights, bright flashes of lightning and loud claps of thunder. In between all of this, rain poured down around our house. It was obviously a good night to be inside wrapped up in a blanket with the air conditioning turned on to watch a little television.

After a whirlwind vacation, it was once again time to head for home. It is always hard to leave family especially after a brief visit. Trina and the kids are usually very emotional when we leave and today was no exception. As everyone said good-bye to each other, there were a lot of tears shed. We climbed into the car and began to drive to the freeway. It was at this point that I began crying too. Trina looked shocked as I rarely am emotional like this. She quickly asked why I was so sad and inquired whether it was leaving family that was making me so emotional. "No," I exclaimed, "I just realized that there are only 18 more home games remaining this season for the Diamondbacks and then the dreadful off-season begins. I am really not ready for baseball to be over!" This emotional outburst went on for several miles as I replayed all the games I had been to this year and calculated that 162 innings of baseball were all that were left unless we went extra innings. I would have thought that Trina and the kids would have been more understanding but they seemed to think I was mocking them. How could they possibly say that? The remainder of the first half of the trip was spent in silence as we each contemplated what it would mean when baseball season was over. Ok, maybe that wasn't what they were all thinking of but it was weighing heavily in my mind. There is nothing to make a automobile trip seem to drag on more than depressing thoughts. It wasn't until I began thinking of the possibility of making the play-offs that the trip turned out. By the time I got to the Phoenix city limits I was contemplating going to a World Series game. With thoughts like that, I could drive another 10 hours.

It can never be said that I don't learn from my mistakes. Today we began our road trip back to Phoenix from Idaho Falls. The trip through Salt Lake City was still fresh on my mind and I had every intention of finding an alternative route so that I wouldn't be stuck in Utah traffic for two hours like on the way up. I was hoping that I could eliminate going through Salt Lake completely but Trina and the children wanted to stop and see some of the sights as long as we were going through. Besides, Ashley informed me that Salt Lake City now had a Hard Rock Cafe and she reminded me that I didn't have a pin from there yet. Hmmm, she did have a point. And after all, how bad could the freeway be in Utah anyway? We would be going through there in the middle of the day so they wouldn't possibly close it, would they? Three hours into our trip home, we arrived at the Salt Lake City limits and we were greeted by long lines of traffic and disappearing and reappearing lanes. When we approached what should have been our exit, we were instead greeted by large barricades informing us of impending road closures. A few miles later, what was a four lane freeway was now a one lane road with large concrete barriers on each side. Every quarter mile was a sign which displayed our current speed or lack of it. After a mile of this, I suddenly realized that they had turned the freeway into a bobsled run. We were careening out of control with only one lane visible and blind corners at every turn. The one difference was instead of a sled, I was piloting a white Suburban and we had no helmets on. The kids were screaming to slow down except for Dakota who sat in the back seat with is hands in the air yelling to make the last turn. We were finally able to find an exit and slowed to a stop as we arrived at the Hard Rock Cafe. The kids each piled out of the car, their knuckles still white from where they were holding on to the back of the seats. Let's see the Jamaicans do that!

When I was a small boy growing up in Idaho, my Grandpa Summers used to always take me fishing. That in itself would have been admirable and put my Grandpa in the hall of fame for grandparents. But he didn't stop there. He would take all of my cousins with him. In all, there were 12 of us at the time. The one stipulation he had was that we had to be potty trained before we were allowed to go. Grandpa would load all of us up along with camping gear and tents and off we would go. We would stop at a small general story along the way to pick up worms and food for the trip. We kids were allowed to pick out whatever food we wanted to eat for the trip. Grandpa would get to the counter with a basket full of candy and marshmallows. Somehow, he would always hide a package of hot dogs somewhere that we couldn't see so that we had something without sugar for one meal. We would then travel to our fishing spot and make camp. Once all of the tents were put up, grandpa would take a single pole and make his way to our fishing hole. He would bait the hook and cast the line into the water. All of the children would line up single file behind him along the bank. While grandpa attempted to hook a fish, it was our responsibility to call them into our hook. There stood 12 small children each with their hands to their mouths calling at the top of their lungs, "Here Fishy Fishy Fishy!" When a fish was hooked, the first child in line would go to grandpa and be allowed to reel in the fish. They would then move to the back of the line and everyone moved up one position. These were wonderful times that I shall always remember. On our trip to Idaho this summer, I went to see my grandfather who is now in his eighties. I invited him to go fishing once more though this time with my children. His heart rose into his throat and his eyes glistened. All the way up to where we would be fishing, he would tell me stories from his childhood and from mine, reminding me of details I had long forgotten. In the hour's drive, I was able to relive a lot of experiences that time had hidden from me. When we finally arrived, I began to bait hooks and cast the line into the water. As I stood there with grandpa and my kids, I explained the procedure for fishing just as it was explained to me some thirty years ago. Before long, my children were lined up behind their great grandfather, each with their hands to their mouths. Familiar sounds were once again heard at the banks of the water, "Here Fishy, Fishy, Fishy!"

I always remember being in elementary school and discussing the invention of the automobile. When the horseless carriage came to be, there was a tremendous amount of resistance to this new mode of transportation. The stories went that those who had grown up with the horse scoffed at this loud and noisy invention claiming they would never succumb to having to travel in one of these new fangled contraptions. At the time, I thought this was hilarious. How could anyone not want a car? They have become such a part of our lives that no one could imagine what life would be like without them. "Surely that couldn't happen now." I had thought to myself. People have obviously evolved to the point to where they can see the benefits of technology rather than fear it. I was wrong.

After a short night of little sleep, we were up and getting ready for the day. I had forgotten how small Idaho Falls was. While growing up there, it always seemed like the big city. After all, it was the third largest city in Idaho with a population of 40,000 people. We even had three high schools and four bowling alleys. It didn't get much bigger than that. Somehow though, the state of Idaho seems to have missed the technological revolution. Instead of keeping up with the necessary infrastructure to take advantage of the Internet, they seemed to be left behind. Until recently, no one even knew the Internet existed. I had worked feverishly to try and find a network connection that would allow me to connect in. The need for the Internet was never more important. When I picked up the morning newspaper, I immediately turned to the sports page to collect information on what had happened the previous night in Major League Baseball. You can imagine my horror to find that the sports page consisted of two pages and one of them was filled with fishing forecasts! How could these barbarians possibly live not knowing how the Diamondbacks had done? After several phone calls and configuration changes, I finally got my laptop connected to the web. My usually reliable 56K modem was able to connect at 21.6 maximum. I may has well be using a modemsaurus and trying to raise Barney Rubble on the other end. There is nothing quite as frustrating as watching the screen paint when you are trying to pull up the box score on ESPN.com. This was going to be a very long week for me. My digital cellular phone has not been operational since Utah, my pager has no service, my parents idea of a cable modem is what connects the computer to the telephone jack, and this city's idea of big league baseball is watching Rookie level Pioneer League teams. I am beginning to think perhaps I have gone back in time to the 1950s.

As long as we were going to make a road trip, we decided that we may as well make good use of our time. Ashley, my oldest daughter, will be a senior this year. She has plans to go to college after graduation and at this juncture does not know where she wants to attend. She and I decide that a few campus visits are in order to help her make up her mind. She thinks that she would like to go to Brigham Young University in Provo Utah but she is not sure. Since we came through Provo at 11:00 PM, we did not have a chance to look over the campus. We will attempt a visit on the way home next week. Her second choice was Ricks College, a private junior college in Rexburg Idaho where Trina played college basketball on scholarship. Unfortunately or fortunately depending on your perspective, Ricks College was recently reclassified. It would no longer be a junior college effective this fall semester. Instead, it would become BYU Idaho, a four year institution. This intrigued Ashley until we learned that BYU Idaho would have no sports other than intermurals. Ashley has been ranked in the state of Arizona in the triple jump since she was a Freshman and had hoped to receive a track scholarship. This puts BYU Idaho at a disadvantage. Nonetheless, we made a trip to the campus to look around. It has changed since Trina and I went there in 1981. The campus was much larger than I had remembered although it was still quite small. Trina had gone there for two years while I was there for one. We each graduated with an Associates degree and the campus brought back a lot of memories. Ashley is more excited about college now. I am still not sure I am ready to send her off yet.

With the Diamondbacks out of town for a six game road trip and a couple of days off, Trina and the girls decided they needed a vacation before going back to school. This coupled with the fact that Trina's father has been in poor health lately made the decision to go quite easy. So to paraphrase the Beverly Hillbillies theme song, we loaded up the truck and went to Idaho, falls that is. It is a sixteen hour drive from Phoenix to Idaho Falls. Most of the time you are driving deserted roads that have not been cared for in several years. It is by far the best to travel these areas at night since there is not much to see. Instead though, we started out at eight in the morning (even though I wanted to get going no later than 5:30). For the remainder of the day we played a game. I drove as fast as I could for as long as I could before one of the children yelled "I've got to go potty!" At that point we would scramble around looking for a rest area. This game went pretty well until we reached Salt Lake City.

One of the cool things I like about going to an Arizona Diamondbacks game at Bank One Ballpark is the opportunity to sample some of the food from other ballparks. At each homestand, the Diamondbacks will bring one menu item from the opponents park. This food item is located at one of the concession stands on each level of the ballpark. It is referred to as the Visiting Team special. It is always interesting to see what if featured for each team during the course of the year. I am not normally adventurous when it comes to food but I have to admit that I have tried the item from each team. There were Dodger Dogs from Los Angeles, pulled pork sandwiches from Atlanta, pretzels from Philadelphia, and grilled chicken on sourdough bread from San Francisco. I eagerly awaited the Montreal series to see what fares would be served from north of the border. As I got to the front of the line, I was met by the smiling face of the concessionaire. "One visiting team special, please" I eagerly asked. My first clue should have been the vanishing smile and the confused look I was given. She retrieved my sandwich handing it to me and taking my money. It looked good and was quite large. As I made my way back to my seat, I noticed that I seemed to be the only one having one of these specials. I began eating and quickly learned that the sandwich was some sort of smoked meat. After finishing the meal, I sat and waited for the game to begin. The longer I sat there, the more queasy I became. Whatever was in this sandwich was not setting well with me. I decided to go back to the concession stand to ask a few questions. I looked at the menu to verify that the Visiting Team special was listed. There it was, Smoked Meat Sandwich. I asked the concession worker if she could tell me something about the special. "Well, it's a sandwich and it has meat on it. The meat is smoked I think." That was a little less than helpful so I asked if she could clarify what type of meat it was. She didn't know but she would ask. She went into the back where she stayed for what seemed like 10 minutes. When she returned, she had additional information, "It's smoked meat." I could see that I wasn't going to get anywhere with her and thanked her anyway for her help. As I was leaving, the person behind me in line offered his helpful comments, "Maybe it's Canadian road kill." I'm not sure I am going to have that menu item tomorrow. But then again, it wasn't that bad.

It's funny how important dates tend to stick with you throughout your life. For example, we can all remember our birthdays even though there are several who would like to forget theirs. We can usually remember other important dates that happen to each of us. My parents can recall where they were in 1963 with John F. Kennedy was assassinated and I can still remember where I was in 1969 with Neil Armstrong first stepped out onto the moon. But all of these dates pale in comparison to what I was doing 12 years ago. It was at that time that something happened in my life that I will never forget. That evening, with Trina at my side, we walked down aisle hand in hand looking into each others eyes while organ music played. People sat to the left and right of us and watched as we slowly walked to the front. There I stood gazing around, a tear in my eye. After so many years I was finally going to do it. My life after this moment would never be the same. How could it be? I mean no one thought this day would ever come. I was so happy and to have Trina at my side was the best part. The memory of that day is still very strong. I can hardly wait to get home to celebrate this anniversary with my wife. After all, how often do you get to see the first night game at Wrigley Field? I know that the game was not official because of a rain out in the fourth inning, but it is still pretty special. I hope Trina hasn't forgotten this anniversary. How could she after all that we have been through?

My mother always taught me to be a good host and to make your guests feel comfortable. She went as far as saying that your guests should feel as if they were at home. I have try to mind my mother's advice throughout my life. For the first few years, I minded out of fear. Mom is not a large lady but she could wield a paddle with the best of them. As I became older, this behavior became more comfortable. So for 38 years I have tried to make others feel at home when they visit, but I think I have found a boundary to mom's generosity. The Montreal Expos have come to town and have a three game series with the Diamondbacks. I realize that the fans of Montreal are used to having only 1,000 of their closest friends attend a ballgame but I'm afraid we can't be that hospitable. I had a couple of people from Canada make a comment to me last night that there were more people at the game for batting practice than during the game in Montreal. The fans of Montreal are used to having entire sections to themselves and given the number of foul balls that are hit, everyone in the stands could likely go home with a ball. Here, you are lucky if you get a foul ball in a couple of years let alone a single game. Montreal fans are also used to having fellow fans in the stands that speak French. I've been to every game for the past three years and I have to admit I have never heard anyone speak French. About the best I could do would be to have these Canadian fans come to one of the Mets games. The Mets fans didn't speak French, but they were rude so that would be half right. I understand from talking to some of the fans that the Expos do not have a television contract so no games are seen on television. The best I can do here would be to turn off their televisions while they are watching them. Of course with the monsoon storms we are having, chances are they won't have power where they are staying anyway. In the meantime, I will attempt to be a good host and to make our guests feel closer to home, I will try to incorporate some of their lingo into my conversations with the umpires, "Take off! That call sucked you hoser! That was a good one, eh?"

Each year, before the season starts, my kids await the release of the schedule for the upcoming Diamondbacks season. No, not the game schedule. They are interested in the giveaway schedule. There becomes a near frenzy as the kids pour over the listing to determine when the coolest giveaway will be. At each date, they call "dibs" to ensure they will be going to those games that they are most interested in the freebies. Now Dakota is the youngest and is still quite naive. He still believes that you go to a baseball game to watch the game rather than get cool prizes. The girls continue to try and train him but the going is slow. When the schedule came out for the 2000 season, no one called today's game. One look at the description had them all shy away from it. After all, who would want a 3TV metal lunch box. First off, metal lunch boxes went out with the Partridge Family. It would definitely be uncool to have one of those. Second, lunch boxes usually remind you of school and that is the last thing one of my kids want to try and remember. So this morning, amid the snickers from his sisters, Dakota got up and got ready to go to the game. Again, he could care less about the giveaway. He knew it was Sunday that that meant Bullpen Buddies. He planned on going down and hanging with the players in the bullpen and play in the dirt. As we reached the gates to enter the ballpark, the ushers began taking out the lunch boxes and lining them along the gates to give to the onrushing fans. As people began receiving these lunch boxes, they became excited. These were actually pretty cool. Dakota especially thought so. Now at last he had a place to store the dirt he was collecting from the bullpen along with a couple of Hot Wheels cars and the Bullpen Buddies T-Shirt he had just received. For the entire game, that lunch box kept him entertained as he opened it, emptied the contents onto his seat, played, and returned the contents back into the box. He would pause momentarily to yell encouragement to the Diamondbacks players and return to his play. He did not even complain that Armando Reynoso was pitching or that the game lasted over 3 hours. No, he had his lunch box and he was set. When we arrived home, he proudly displayed his new prized possession for everyone. Each of the girls replied with the same response, "Hey, that is cool. I want one of those." To which both Dakota and I gave the same answer, "You've got to go to the game to get the prizes. You snoozed, you lose. Now quit whining like a Mets fan." It is so rare for the men of this household to score, we have to savor the moment when it happens.

As I was sitting at the game on Wednesday evening, they announced that Luis Gonzalez would be signing autographs on Saturday at the MetroCenter Mall. Knowing full well that Gonzo was Mallorie's favorite Diamondback of all time, I knew that I would be spending some time at the mall on Saturday. Well, as today arrived, I found that I not only had Mallorie but Whitney and Dakota as well. I would have had Tiffany too but she had gymnastics team practice this morning so she couldn't go. That did not stop her from giving me items to have Luis autograph for her. Dragging three children and a bag of Diamondbacks gear, we headed to MetroCenter. As has been the case for this entire week, no trip through downtown Phoenix could be complete without at least three detours due to road construction. We weaved in and out of surface streets seeing some of the sights of Phoenix that the children don't usually get to see. There were the usual handful of homeless people begging for money at the street corner, and I believe we witnessed a drug deal going down at one point. Of course who could forget the three prostitutes selling their wares. Ah, what an educational experience we have when we travel off the beaten path of the freeway. When we arrived at the mall, I noticed there was only a few people standing in line at The Gamekeeper waiting for autographs. What luck, we would be in and out in less than 10 minutes. As the kids and I got in line, I could hear people yelling. Curious, I turned to find 150 people letting me know that what I had thought was the end of the line, was only the beginning. The end was at the other side of the mall. Hmmm, perhaps I had miscalculated the time we would be here. Instead of 10 minutes, it was more like 120 minutes. In the end, it didn't matter. Each of the kids had an item signed by Mr. Gonzalez. I even happened to slide in the picture of Tiffany for an autograph. Overall, it was a pretty good morning

It is one of those days that marks the passage of time that although is somewhat meaningless, is still depressing when I contemplate it for any amount of time. At each Arizona Diamondbacks home game, I bring my scorebook and keep track of each pitch that is thrown. Each page tells a story. Some stories have happy endings like the previous two nights where the Diamondbacks have won the game and there are others that are tragedies such as Monday night when the fan interfered with a home run ball that Luis Gonzalez could have caught. Besides documenting a box score, I keep track of other pieces of information that I find myself interested in. I have listed who the home plate umpire is for each game so that I can yell at them by name during the course of the game. I keep track of the time of each ball game so that I can answer Whitney's constant question of how long will this game take. I keep track of who I bring to each game so that at the end of the season I can answer the argument by the children of who went to the most games this year. Of course I also keep track of whether the roof is open or closed so that I know what our record is for each type of environment. This piece of information has allowed me to observe that the ball carries approximately eight feet farther with the roof open and twelve feet farther if the roof and the panel doors are open. Another tidbit of information in the scorebook is the jersey we wear for each home game. It is interesting that each pitcher has a specific jersey that they feel more comfortable with. For example, Armando Reynoso will only wear the white pinstripe jersey. Brian Anderson always selects the purple. Todd Stottlemyre is also partial to the purple jersey for each home game. Randy Johnson likes the black jersey best but after last season when he received no run support for five or six games, he has changed to the white pinstripe. Curt Schilling seems to prefer the sleeveless jersey although I have only one game to base this observation. The final piece of data that is kept in the scorebook is by far the most important since it is the one question I am asked every game. "Who won the hot dog races?" Before each race, I am asked that and have to give the results from the previous 3 races so the kids can predict who will win next.

Tonight it was Tiffany's turn to go to the game. I have to admit, she is the most fun to take to the ballpark. I think it is because she genuinely loves the game of baseball and is interested in understanding all of the nuances of the game. Of course it doesn't hurt that she is an autograph magnet. She can get players to come over that no one else can get. I am fascinated and mildly impressed at her abilities. She is never pushy and she is always polite with the players. She does demand for them to act the same way. Tiffany will not put up with players who are prima donnas or who cop an attitude. Tonight was proof of that. We were at the ballpark in time to watch batting practice. There we watched as Alex Cabrera did his nightly impression of Mark McGwire hitting balls to areas where you generally need a very tall ladder. While I was watching the hitters, Tiffany was yelling to Johnny Ruffin. He immediately acknowledged her presence and when he was done with his warm-ups, he came over and autographed Tiffany's ball. She and he spoke for a few minutes and she politely thanked him for his time. You could tell she admired him and his behavior towards the fans. When the Diamondbacks finished their batting practice, we went out into the left field stands to watch the Braves hit. When we got there, Chipper Jones was standing in the field doing his best to ignore the fans. Tiffany attempted several times to get his attention by calling out his name. Finally, he acknowledged her presence and stated abruptly that he didn't sign autographs for fans, especially on the road. His response and attitude surprised me as it did others in the stands. Tiffany was somewhat put out that he thought he was better than the game and could care less about the fans. From that point forward, she did her best to get everyone in the bleachers to begin to heckle Chipper Jones. Knowing that he doesn't really like his given name, she began to chant, "Larry Wayne Jones". After a few minutes of this, it was obvious that "Larry" had enough and headed for the dugout. All the while that he jogged in, he was greeted with a chorus of boo's and chants of "Lar-ry". Never has a father been this proud of his little girl. She dissed a millionaire and taught him that the fans do account for something in baseball.

Wednesday is always Whitney's day to go to the game. Well, actually I have my choice of taking Whitney or Dakota. Since the Code Man is still a wild man, I always choose to take him only once a week. I think the fans that sit around me are also grateful for that decision. There are times, like tonight, that Whitney really doesn't want to go. Don't get me wrong, she loves baseball, just not enough to go down and hang out for five or six hours a night. We always have a great time at the ballpark and she is always glad she went. Her theory on going to a baseball game is that baseball is a good thing, especially when taken in moderation. What typically happens when we go is that I end up bribing her with some trinket at the team shop. I then have to endure the wrath of Trina when I get home and she has to dig receipts out of my seat cushion to see what kind of damage I have done to our checkbook. Tonight though, I did think ahead. As I was heading out the door for the game, I grabbed my color GameBoy (I want it noted that the Color GameBoy is mine regardless of whether the children have claimed squatters rights to this device). When we got down to the ballpark, I let Whitney see what I had brought and told her that she could play it for the entire game if she wanted. She was extremely excited and could hardly wait for the game to start so that she could begin playing. This exercise lasted the entire nine innings as she sat quietly and worked her little fingers to the bone as she navigated level after level. Many of you may be asking yourselves, what game would keep a six year old child entertained for so long? Well it is Ken Griffey Baseball of course. Is there any other game out there?

With the beginning of August comes the official dog days of summer. This is the long hot days where we just lay around and catch a few baseball games while the thermometer blows it top like Old Faithful. As a child in Idaho, we would spend each day playing ball at the school field. Before each game we would select shirts and skins and then begin a game that would last six to eight hours. We never kept score and the game ended when the teams were reduced to 4-on-4. If you were lucky, you were chosen to play on the skins team or the team without the kid that had one arm and no mitt. At this point in the summer, you were far enough away from school ending that you had forgotten how much you hated that teacher or the countless hours you spent in the principal's office for reciting the pledge of allegiance with wax teeth in your mouth when the teacher's back was turned.