No Matter How It All Turns Out, We Still Play The Game

25 10 2011

Last winter I sat in a friend’s living room floor pouring over a baseball schedule. 3 newly acquired friends and I were committing to attend 10 baseball games together, and finding 10 that wouldn’t conflict with our busy lives and schedules seemed a daunting task.

Fast forward almost 9 months and we’re now the kind of friends who finish the others’ sentences. We’ve also seen about 30 games together. Turns out, that once the season started, our schedules were a little more flexible…and baseball was a far more addictive pastime than anticipated.

We were there for good moments and bad: for complete game shutouts, player injuries, the death of a fan, 2000th hits, homestand sweeps, rain delays, chants of player names that give you chills, and the birth of a facial hair fanbase. We’ve met players and their families, been yahoo’s photo of the day, acquired more SWAG than is necessary in life, and gathered together to make posters, banners, cupcakes and away game crafts. We were good luck charms for the team, and they won more than 80% of the games we attended – including ALDS, ALCS & World Series games.

I’ve gone from being a casual Rangers fan who accepted the summer slump and owned 1 Rangers shirt, to a girl who could tell you the complete bios of most of the roster, tweets about little else, has an entire multi-season baseball wardrobe and expects her team to win. Some days I think I don’t really know myself. Some days I think I don’t really know my Rangers.

Sunday night was my last game to attend at the Ballpark in Arlington for the 2011 season. We witnessed Derek Holland achieving greatness and baseball immortality by pitching 8 & 1/3 scoreless innings of World Series baseball. Of course, the win wasn’t all that surprising…our trusty Dutchstaches (worn every time Holland’s pitched since July) are 7-0 when in attendance.

My Texas Rangers are one win away from winning the World Series. And they have two chances to do it. It’s surreal. Bizarre, in fact. It hasn’t sunk in yet, but there’s a part of me that can’t imagine the fairy tale that’s been this summer ending in any way other than a world championship. Of course, there’s a part of me that knows enough about sports jinxes, and knows enough about her team to know not to take anything for granted.

The fact of the matter is that win or lose 2011 will forever live in my mind as the year of My Texas My Rangers…when life’s dress code was red, white, & blue…when friendships were forged in the cheap seats.

That said, I really hope they win. #Rangersin6

the baseballmojo girls

The Baseballmojo Girls supporting Derek Holland in his 2011 World Series win





Back to Wizards and Witches and Magical Beasts…

15 07 2011

If you haven’t read the book or seen the movie yet, there are what some may consider to be spoilers below. You should stop reading now. Of course, if you haven’t read the books and you’re that passionate about spoilers, I might be rolling my eyes at you a little bit.

Yes, I appreciate the irony of publishing a Harry Potter blog directly after my last post. (Jon Acuff would appreciate it, too.) What can I say? I’m a woman of diverse interests.

Last night I sat in a theatre saying goodbye to some great friends. I cried tears with their hurt and cheered in their victories. I felt their emotions the way one empathizes with lifelong best friends. I know them well, so I understand the magnitude of their emotions. I got goosebumps when Bellatrix danced as she walked, when Ginny saw Harry in the castle, when Neville found the sorting hat, when Ron spoke parseltongue, when Luna knew something and Harry listened, when Minerva got excited over a spell – not just because they were fun moments in the film, but because each of those moments represented such evolution for each character. When the screen went black and the credits began to roll, the girl on the row behind us yelled “Goodbye childhood, hello being an adult!” She’s not alone; lots of people are saying that it’s like saying goodbye to their childhoods, but I was in college before the first movie came out and I picked up the first book, so it’s not my childhood that I bid adieu to last night.

There’s an element of that, of course. “19 years later” makes those primary characters 36 years old in the final scenes…just a few years older than I am now. Even they had to grow up, which was annoying in the book, but cathartic in the film.

No, I wasn’t saying goodbye to my childhood. I think my [female equivalent of the] Peter Pan syndrome will remain firmly intact for some time. In a strange way, saying goodbye to Harry & Ron & Hermione & Ginny & Neville & Luna & the rest felt more like a graduation of sorts. I was saying goodbye to their childhoods. I’ll still see them (between the hard & soft covers of my printed copies and on the screen of my TV or computer), but it’ll be more sporadic, less scheduled, than it’s been the last 10 years. I’ll still know them, but only as they exist at this moment.

I think that’s what I’ll miss most about Harry & friends – seeing them grow and change; recognizing my own growth & change in them. I’ll miss the anticipation of wondering what’s next. I’ll mourn the loss of characters penned and fleshed out so fully that it’s almost as if they’re from another time…a time before best-selling authors churned out books every other month for the sake of sales. I’ll mourn for the future of literature, seemingly so void of true wordsmiths to challenge the field and raise the status quo and appeal to the populace all at the same time. Harry reminded me, reminded the world really, that books can be literature even if they weren’t written a hundred years ago and are shelved in the children’s section of the local bookstores.

So, I said goodbye to friends last night, even though I’ll still see them from time to time. I’ll be looking, however, for true characters of equal depth and wit and passion and humanity, to fill the void they’ll inevitably leave behind.





Bullfrogs & Butterflies, Both Been Born Again

22 01 2010

On the ride home from nun practice tonight (another story for another day – I’ll attempt to post a video should there be one), I listened to a radio interview with Randal Keynes. Keynes is the great-great-grandson of Charles Darwin and the author of a book about Darwin entitled “Creation.”

“Creation” has also been made into a film that opens in select theatres this week. It’s a film I feel most Christians will never see, and that makes me sad. To begin with, it stars Paul Bettany, who’s amazing, but more than that, the story told in the film (as I was able to glean it from the radio interview) is one that most Christians need to hear, and with which most non-Christians will identify.

Keynes says Darwin didn’t see his evolutionary theory as something in conflict with Christianity (something many of my Christian friends also hold true). Keynes also says that it wasn’t “Origin of the Species,” but the inexplicable death of Darwin’s young daughter that drove Darwin away from his belief in God. He says that Darwin’s loss of faith was something that was a constant struggle in his life and his marriage because his wife was devout in her faith.

Many Christians respond to evolutionary theory like Darwin was a heretic who maliciously threw his theories in the face of faith. I think it behooves us to ponder that he struggled with it, agonized over it. It benefits us to reflect that he was a man who was hurt and broken and felt betrayed and abandoned by a God to whom he’d once dedicated his life.

We all know people like that. I’d venture to say we’ve all felt like that at one time or another. Doubt and struggle can be so much a part of faith. I know personally, it’s my doubts that help me solidify my faith and grow in my beliefs. Gandhi once said, “Faith… must be enforced by reason…. When faith becomes blind it dies.” I think that’s true. Blind faith is a shallow faith. It’s the faith that’s tested, proved, that becomes deeper, stronger. Mark 9:24 is a great verse. In a moment of desperation, loss, confusion, none of the above, all of the above, a man responds to Christ by saying “I believe – help my unbelief.” Jesus, as is His way, is faithful to follow through.

I’ll be going to see “Creation.” I hope my friends who don’t go see it do so because they’re sure of what they believe, not because they’re sure what they’re against. I hope that the Christian community recognizes that there’s more to the story than the creation/evolution debate. I hope we find ways that this film, like so many before it can be redeemed and used for God’s glory. I hope. I hope. I hope.





Just To See Him Smile, Makes My Life Worthwhile

9 09 2009

Matthew Morrison (aka Will Schuester from Glee)! Where has this man been all my life? Sure, he started out in a Boy Band and on Broadway and so society would tell us that he’s probably gay, but I think he’s dreamy and delightful. He’s done a bit of television, a couple of films, and has a Tony nomination for goodness’ sakes.
Anyway, I watched Glee after getting home from church tonight and had one of those moments where I realized that I’m old. Not because I’m falling apart or I’ve developed a sudden taste for malt-o-meal or anything, but because Matthew Morrison and his delightful dimples are the highlight of this show for me. You know you’re old when you watch a show targeted to teenagers and find yourself crushing on the adults. I had the same reaction when I took some teenagers to 17 Again and mourned the fact that Matthew Perry didn’t have more screen time.
For those of you who missed Glee tonight, (and shame on you if you did…it’s amazing), the video’s posted below but the embedding has been disabled so you’ll have to go to youtube. (PS – I’m not saying this is my favorite new show of the season. That’s a sure fire way for it to get canceled – a la Pushing Daisies.)
In lieu of that, I’d like to show you a different video that I may be in love with even though it’s from one of my least favorite musicals because it features 2 of my loves.








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