It’s that time of the year!
So I don’t spend the next few days sleeping in the garage, I better wish all the fine folks in academia land a belated Happy National Teacher’s Day. Here’s an apple (Honeycrisp and worm free) from Mr. Skipah to all of you for educating today’s youth. Yes, Miss Madison is a teacher. No, I don’t want to sleep on a concrete slab. Hence the mention.
Been a little busy the last few days so the laptop got a much-needed rest. What has Skipah been up to, you ask? Navigating the “Tucky” triangle the last couple of days. I wasn’t going to let a #FeeltheBern rally in Louisville, a potential bridge jumper, or construction traffic stop me in my quest to see Sloane suit up for the beginning of softball season. She had games on Monday & Tuesday night, and I had to “dad” up to drive three-plus hours round trip to see an hour of softball. I’d do it every day of the week and twice on Sundays if I had to!
That light blue line is what is known as the Ohio River, also the state line between Indiana/Kentucky.
It’s gushing dad time. Man-hater mommy, contact your attorney for something else to nitpick about, as the past two nights just seeing my future Jennie Finch in action was awesome. It’s “bonus” time for me, and you better bet I’m taking full advantage of it. Miss Madison and her troopers came down for the action on Monday night, Tuesday night it was just me (Miss Madison has that roll a “joint” custody thing she has to deal with herself) and a pack of moms cheering on our offspring.
I say, moms because it is rather troubling that in two straight evenings at the ballpark, I literally counted on one hand the number of dads in attendance. After making small talk with a couple of the moms, I learned stepdads are involved also, so out of a dozen or so girls with dads & stepdads, there were maybe eight or nine Y chromosome providers at the ballpark and some of these were grandparents. Must be a Kentucky thing I guess. Granted three of the Y union members are on the coaching staff, but, seriously, dads/stepdads get involved in your kid’s activities! Disclaimer: I don’t know the back story on any of the children’s dads, (deceased, living in Portugal, or doing 15 years for Grand Theft Auto) so this sentence maybe a little premature. I do know one stepdad that wasn’t in attendance either night and trust me it wasn’t work related!
Babe Ruth, Earl Averill, Bill Terry, & Harmon Killebrew are all in the Hall of Fame, what did they have in common? They wore the number three!
Two straight nights seeing Sloane play softball is just what the doctor ordered! She has the speed of her father (in an unrelated note I didn’t qualify for Rio this summer), but she has suddenly learned to gobble up anything hit to her like Hoover style vacuum. Routine grounder Sloane is fielding it cleanly and throwing to the proper base. Granted her fielding range is akin to a wounded walrus and her arm strength would only frighten a blind sloth running the bases, but I could care less. Not to go all Al Bundy and relive my youth sports career telling you about the time I scored four touchdowns for Polk City High School in the city championship game, seeing her play the infield and pick it clean melts my heart.
Coming soon future lawsuit since the freaking umpires never grab the bat and throw it out of the way!
At one time, many years ago, I was a scrawny little bastard that couldn’t hit his weight, but anything hit to me at second base/shortstop was getting caught. I couldn’t promise anybody that the throw to first might end up putting a dent on a vehicle in the parking lot, but the ball wasn’t getting past me! Seeing my eight-year-old pretty much cleanly field anything hit to her was something we call in father land as a “Proud Dad Moment.” Trust me, loyal reader, I’m not vicariously living my washed up sports career through Sloane and nor am I going to be the obnoxious parent that presses a sport down my kid’s throat, but I love baseball and seeing Sloane take a shine to softball is awesome! Now if she told me tomorrow she wants to quit softball and take up tobacco stripping, I’ll blame it on her surroundings, but would support her anyway.
She’s hitting .400 with a run scored in two games!
I was mildly surprised at how nice the ballpark complex in Anderson County, Kentucky is. Granted the high school field had grass growing in the infield, but the four Little League fields are immaculate. Sight lines suck; depending on which side of the field you are sitting on, you cannot see first or third base, but overall it’s a top notch facility.
Yikes! As a rule, you generally don’t need a lawnmower for field prep on a dirt infield!
What’s not top notch? The freaking concession stand! Mr. Skipah loves his ballpark food as much as the next guy! I’ll spend more money than a degenerate gambler in Vegas on hot dogs and nachos at the ballpark! How in the hell does the Anderson County Parks and Recreation run out of hot dogs on opening day? Forty minutes into the first session of games nonetheless! This is unacceptable for Mr. Skipah! So I came up with a solution!
Skipah’s Realm has become a business (far from thriving), but a business nonetheless! I didn’t think to jump on the sponsorship wagon for uniforms, and Chico’s Bail Bonds didn’t inquire either. After looking at the sad sack of plywood advertisers that were on the outfield fence, I thought what the hell and had the advertising department inquire about some Skipah’s Realm love. I would like to think my logo is cooler than Subway’s! Plus, Sloane gets to say, “That’s my dad, my big bad dad!”, and hell, it might curry some favor with the umpires! My only thinking for having a Skipah’s Realm billboard at the Little League facility? So they don’t run out of freaking hot dogs! Any sponsorship dollars I offer will be predicated on making sure there are hot dogs for all the patrons! Seriously 40 minutes into opening day and they were out of hot dogs? Unacceptable, and I’m here to help. Waiting on an email response from the league, but I’m hopeful to make this happen!
How would that look in left field?
About it for now, my email inbox needs more attention a two-year-old on a sugar high, it’s time to start handicapping the Kentucky Derby, and Miss Madison is chomping at the bit to have me look into going to the Taste of Chicago festival in July!