So I was getting ready to write about my Marvel Villians Football Team, a sequel to the Heroes team. I was thinking about the many articles going through my mind. Such as the ArmChairGM WIS Football Season, There's More than the MLB, and trying to keep up on my San Francisco Giants. I realized I was pretty much in over my head, especially with my Senior Project speech coming up and all these plans for graduation. I also can't forget about working and saving up to move out when I turn eighteen. Of course there is that whole college thing too. All my thoughts flew around in my head as if they were seagulls ready to swoop down and eat the leftover food on the ground. Out of nowhere I got this inspiration though, I wanted to just write about ME. Always directing my attention on all the other subjects, maybe it's time for some Agent0 time.
So I begin with my earlier days.
The Easy Life
My dad grew up in Sacramento, California. Playing stickball in the streets as a kid. He grew up the small kid his whole life, as have I (thanks to his damn genetics). He was around five foot five his senior starting at second base. He believed he was a shortstop, but his small size gave him no power to his arm. After a great year in high school he decided to attend Sac City College to play baseball. His coach wanted him to workout during summer and all my dad did was go to the river and swim. He returned to the team in the fall and had not put on any weight, which meant no more strength. He ended his baseball dreams by quitting the team thanks to him being overshadowed heavily by starting second basemen Fernando Vina. My dad now plays slowpitch softball (he is contemplating retiring) and is damn good at it. I have learned everything from him and cherish every moment we have had together. My dad did a great job teaching me the game. I was always steps ahead of kids which helped me produce an error-less little league career (from ages 9-12). It also helped me hit 3rd best in majors my last year. I know, I know, it's little league. Anyways, he taught me everything about the game.
You see, I have this mind that doesn't want to work for school books and doing all that boring writing, but when it comes to baseball it has to be one of the greatest minds around. For reading, I would read baseball books such as The Science of Hitting by Ted Williams, Maybe I'll Pitch Forever by Satchel Paige, and many others. It gets my brain turning in ways I couldn't imagine. I have a book on every World Series, a book on all the greatest hitters, a book featuring the greatest pitching performances, and many others. I can keep stats in my head for years. When I would go to my grandparents' house in Sacramento, to rid my boredom, I would read the boxscores of the sports sections (not the articles, but the numbers). I would play imaginary games with myself using my dream team line-ups and facing the greatest pitcher ever. Of course I would always bat lead-off with Ty Cobb following and a possible Barry Bonds-Babe Ruth combo proceeding. I never could get my mind to work like that in school however...school has made me a failure...whether my parents admit it or not it has, but I'm not whining about it because life works in weird ways and you have to work through hard times.
I know you are all wondering about where this is leading to...it's like the never ending story that probably makes no sense.
You see, one reason my grades haven't been the greatest these last two years is because my best friend moved away December of my junior year. That was my dad...He moved away because my step-mom wanted to move next to her family. She was going to (most likely) leave him if he didn't move, which made me feel as if he chose her over me and my sister. I know there is more adult stuff to it, but it just tore me up. I have cried over injuries and all that jazz, but I have never cried because of a moment. Well, not until I sat next to my dad in his car, we were in front of my grandparents' house in Sacramento. Even though this happened about a year in a half ago, I remember like it happened two minutes ago. He turned off the car and looked at me and said, "Casey I'm thinking about moving". As naive as I was, I wondered where in town he was moving. He then continued to talk about moving down to the Sac area. I couldn't hold it back, the tears flowed and that was a moment in time that I think me and my dad really bonded: both in tears. After that, I really had anger built up inside of me I wanted to lash out, but had nothing to lash out on. To this day, I say without regret that I hate my step-mother for taking him, but it is something I can live with. That anger was released some few months ago when my dad and I got into an argument. It was a stupid one about me throwing a basketball and walking to get it instead of hustling to get it. I was wrong, and he was right. He asked what was going on and I couldn't take it, I teared up and told him I needed him and our relationship since then has never been better. Why is this relevant to me becoming a journalist? It has everything to do with it.
Growing up, I shared all my baseball thoughts with my dad. All of them. I'm pretty sure I tortured him with everything that ran through my sports mind. We shared great moments together, such as my Tampa Bay Buccaneers beating his Oakland Raiders in the Super Bowl, the San Francisco Giants' NLCS run, and most of all, every Barry Bonds moment as a Giant. That's what you guys don't understand about me being a Bonds fan: he brought my father and I close because of all the moments he had that brought us together. Anyways, once my dad moved, I had no one to share my thoughts with. Well, why not write about sports? So I did and here I am at the greatest sports community on the web: Armchair GM. I have taught myself my writing skills and have taken constructive criticism from all of you. I earned an internship at my paper and I want to spend the rest of my life writing about sports! Not only that, but this makes me feel like I'm not a failure as I was in school. When my articles hit that front page it really means something to me. As I'm sure it does to most of you who are passionate about your writing. So I end by saying thank you everyone for being such a supportive community. Sorry if this makes no sense or rambles, I wrote as a I thought and we all know how much of a mess that can be.
I also want to end on saying thanks to my dad for being... My Dad