My Daddies

The Jonas Brothers and Six Flags are to me what the Yankees were to Pedro Martinez in 2004 – my daddies.

After reading Drew’s post I was re-inspired. I had prepared a rather somber, serious piece to post in Shauna’s world – she kindly allows me to use her space –, but I realize people come here for laughs and jubilation. The last thing we need is too much reality.

Drew’s post inspired because I tread the waters of fatherhood right along with y’all, everyday. Like Drew has been hinted to, I have been told, “I’ll pay all the ones I owe with two girls!”

Seriously?

You see, when we were PWKs (People Without Kids), life was astonishingly boring, or so we conclude today, my bride and I. I mean, we have no time for ourselves these days, so we musta ran out of things to do before, right? How did we occupy our time before?

The dinner parties and weekend getaways with like-PWKs (back in the day) were dandy, but what did we have at the end of it all? Plenty of hangovers and mostly shallow pleasantries.

Let me explain…

So, we returned from a very tough trip back in the homeland, after a tragic death in our family. We needed a little boost, so, we headed to a local sports bar for some College World Series action. In said place of food and drink, I overheard a lady tell her four girls (an anomaly at this place, the lady and four girls), “Are you ready to see the Jonas Brothers? Let’s go!”

Wait a minute! Did we forget the concert was today? Here we sat quietly – the girls and I – and this lady was headed to the concert?

So, on a trip to the restroom, she stood outside the girls’ and I just had to ask – I’m good like that, approaching complete strangers, probably scaring them to death.

“Excuse me, are you going to the concert today?”

“Oh no, today is rehearsal. You can get free tickets right outside the stadium!”

Decision time…

At this point, none of the girls had noticed I was talking to the very attractive lady by the bathroom. I DIDN’T have to say there were free tickets to the rehearsal, did I? I could have avoided going to the stadium that night. After all, we had tickets to the grand show the next day.

Guess what I did? Guess?

Yes, I told them. Yes, we devoured the rest of our meal and cold drinks. Yes, I ran home to get the SLR and the “baddest” lens I could muster. Yes, we hung out until midnight-ish outside the Dallas Cowboys Stadium’s main tunnel, until finally, the boys emerged each in a separate vehicle.

The silver lining?

Two of the boys – I forget which Jonas bros – lowered they’re windows, slowed down and extended their hands. My girls go to touch them for a second.

The twinkle in they’re little faces? Perfect, as Drew so eloquently stated.

The next day, at the concert, the Jonas Brothers took me for a lot of money, again -- shirts, posters…all of it. On the bright side, I was able to medicate myself with cold drinks, though at $8 a pop, my dosage was low. The concert completely wiped us clean of energy and disposable income, at least for the month.

Yes, the Jonas Brothers are my daddies.

For the PWKs still wondering the earth, yes, get scared. You will be broke and worn out the entire time you have children.

Would I change it? Not for anything in the world.

One of the things I admire the most about Shauna is her honesty. I laugh along with all her fandom, but I know they are happy group. How you ask, since I’ve never seen them live?

Look at all the pictures. It’s reflected in those children.

So, Drew and all of you waiting, trying…I so hope you enjoy my joy very soon.

Oh, about Six Flags…

We misplaced the season passes. Mind you, we’ve been season pass holders since the girls were of age, yea repeat customers.

For a family of four, season passes and season parking for the grand park will run upwards $350.00, and that’s not including all the nick-knacks every time you visit.

You would think that if you’ve been loyal, caring customers for that last 6 years, re-printing ours (at least the first offense) would be a courtesy.

Well, it’s not. Beware. They give you one mulligan to get in the park, once you can’t find yours. After that, you’ll pay some $22.00 per to get new ones. Creative cash streams? Absolutely.

I have no choice.

They are my daddies, too.

Stats or "It" Factor. You Decide.

The first time Orlando Cabrera stepped onto to the plate at Fenway Park out of a Red Sox uni, after that 2004 championship season, he was given something of a 30-second standing ovation. He was an Angel now, newly signed out of free agency.



Just a short year before, the first time he stepped up in a Red Sox uniform, after a 4-team trade right at the deadline (which included the great Nomar Garciaparra), he hit a home run. The Nomar "Nomah" Garciaparra trade angered many Sox faithful, but the Cabrera HR surely eased the pain. Without getting into the nitty gritty of that trade, Theo sent Nomah to the Cubbies; got Orlando Cabrera from the now-defunct Expos; Doug Mientkiewicz from the Twins; and Dave Roberts from the Dodgers. Indulge me here, while I relive the 2004 season as a Red Sox fan. It was magical.



Recently, a friend and I put up a bet in the first Boston@Texas series. Nothing big. And, as the Texas Rangers were poised to sweep the Red Sox, the trash talk began. And, a comment was made about the desperation of Theo to add bats to the Red Sox line-up by trading for LaRoche from the Pirates.



So, a further conversation ensued. The argument is this: What matters most? The "feel" for a player or pure stats? Numbers never lie, but then again, they have to be the right numbers at the right time. It's, well, like poker.

Of the trade, which brought Cabrera to the Red Sox, Curt "Father Curt" Schilling said, "He is a game-changer in the field for me." The intent in Theo's trades were to fortify the defense. And, he did. Not only was Schilling money, but Pedro Martinez found his form and with then-closer Ketih Foulke, the Red Sox went on a run and made history. The acquisition of Cabrera at shortstop and Mientkiewicz at first gave the rotation a huge boost.

What about Dave Roberts? Did he make a difference?

Top of the 9th. 2004 AlCS. Game 4. Yankees up 3-0. The Red Sox had been strapped down to the electric chair --again -- , and were about to be executed, again. Just as the warden was about to turn the switch, the governor called...

Mariano Rivera allows a lead-off walk to Millar. Dave Roberts, one of the last-minute trades that July, came in to run.

Roberts steals second. Mueller singles and scores Roberts. Red Sox tie the game at 4, and folks that steal began one of the greatest sports accomplishments in all sporting history.

One stolen base by a guy who was not a Red Sox when the season opened in 2004.

The Red Sox would not lose again. They humiliated the Yankees by coming back from 0-3, and swept the Cardinals in the World Series.

Explanation? Was it in the numbers? Did Theo Epstein, boy wonder GM for the Red Sox, "feel"this was the thing to do in July of 2004?

How lonely do you think he was the night it became public Nomar Garciaparra had been traded? Think there was a contract for his head in New England?

We can go on for hours about this topic and probably not come to any logical conclusion. Bill James followers will prove to you it's all in the numbers. Baseball lovers will argue, yes, maybe in the numbers, but you have to have a feel for the game, the players.

And then there's that good ol' luck. It worked for Chris Moneymaker in the most famous World Series of Poker.

October baseball is about many things. The gods of baseball have to be on your side. You can buy free agents all day long (Yankees), but that doesn't guarantee you anything, even a place in the tournament (see 2008 Yankees).

All I can truly tell you about what makes an October magical for a team may have more to do with the gods blessing you with the right players, at the right time for the right reasons.

When O-Cab (Orlando Cabrera) came to Boston, he instituted well documented hand shakes in the dug out, which brought the team very close together. Mientkiewicz is quote as saying he was aghast when he learned his trade to the Red Sox included letting go of Nomar. Dave Roberts will forever be the man with The Steal. There was the Damon hair and beard; Schilling red sock.

The gods were with us.

Amazingly, none of those traded guys were Red Sox the next season.

Sense?

Most of the time, no.

This 2009 Rangers team seems to have that magic about them.

Magic and luck have a lot to do with winning teams in this free agency era.

Maybe the gods of baseball have made a stop in Arlington this year. Let's hope so.

My Favorite Nothing

When I was a kid, I thought I was weird. Everybody had their list of "favorite things," and I could never decide on anything. Color? It usually depended on my mood. Movie? Food? Friends? It all depended on variables.

Deciding on favorite things made/make no sense, so I lied. I always thought, "How could you have a favorite movie at 8, when there's many more movies to come by the time I'm 18?! I would tell people what my "favorite" things were, but it was all, well, made up.

So, I don't participate in many of these Facebook things, but thought the "my favorites" questionnaire might prove to be fun. I knew at best my closest family and friends could not score above 50%. And, I was right.

There were a few exceptions. My favorite color is black. Black clothes did me favors when I was 40 lbs. overweight. Besides, black is the combination of all colors, so, I never have to choose just one by choosing black. But, red is a very second close. Red cheers me up.

The Range Rover is my favorite dream car because it's the only car I can envision myself splurging on, had I the means. I cannot see myself dropping $180,000 for a vehicle that's a conglomeration of metal, plastic and copper. I mean, the Lambo is probably very sweet, but I'd feel guilty every time I'd sit in it knowing that money could be put to better use. I would probably rent one for a weekend and cruise with my girls. The Rover, though, yes, I would get one, though probably used with about 25k miles.

If all the sporting events I listed would be on at the same time, I wouldn't settle on one. If you have been to a Super Bowl party at my house, I have the ability to wire it for at least 5 televisions. So, I'd find a way to have them all going -- at once. Could not miss any of them .

The drinks, book, actors, movies, et al, are my choice when I think of each of those categories. Sometimes, there's nothing better than an ice-cold Miller Lite. But, sometimes the mood calls for a smooth Scotch or Pinot. It's all in the moods.

So, you see, it's very hard to predict my favorites. I like change and thrive in it. I like new challenges and begin to shut down when I'm not advancing.

Idaly just got her hair cut REAL short. I love it. I love change. A couple of my male friends were shocked that "I let her" cut it so short. It's simple. She takes on a whole new personality with a new do. She feels better about herself and even her dress changes. It's like living with a new person, and though that sounds bad, when you think about it, it works. She will always be the mother of my children and my wife, but re-invention is the ticket to longevity.

Don't worry, she knows the above statement. She tells people, "That's fine, as long as he doesn't want to change me for someone else." That's the point. By changing ourselves, it's never in danger of stagnating.

Water? If you let it pool somewhere without flow or new water, what happens? It becomes green and stinks.

That's why I love being a dad. It's never the same. I cut both of my girls' umbilical cords and now go from concert to concert with their favorite bands. Every day its a new adventure with them. It's beyond words!

I think you sell yourself short by having favorites. I've done many, many things in my short life, and many of them do not fit the other.

Anyhow, if you scored low on that Facebook thing, good. It was designed that way. I didn't want anybody to get better than a 50% .

It's all about change and improvement.

Back To The Ol' Days

We've decided to revisit our country dancing days by hanging out at Billy Bob's Texas, the 10-time CMA and ACM winner for country music clubs. On Thursdays, Billy Bob's offers free dance lessons, and the bonus is we can bring the girls!

So, opening night for us saw a real nice family reunion for us, complete with dancing and cold drinks.

Cheers!

Magic Always Happens at the Ballpark

It's never easy to go back to the office after a weekend off. For one, I have too much fun. When 5 p.m. rolls around on Sunday on a weekend off, I am reminded that in a few hours I'll have to go back to the grind.

On this Monday, though, I was the beneficiary of quite a treat. I enjoyed seats 14 rows up from home plate for the beginning of the series against the Angels of Anaheim of Los Angeles of California, or whatever.

The Rangers did not hold up their end of the deal, in spite of back-to-back HRs early. But, just as I was beginning to get distracted, here comes a kid -- and MVP -- walking down the stairs in my section.

Tom Mendonca played third base for the Fresno State Bulldogs in 2008. We saw this man protect that part of the diamond like no other. We saw this guy propel his team to victory and an MVP berth like few others, and here he was prancing down the stairs with souvenirs. He was drafted by the Texas Rangers in the second round, 62nd pick overall in 2009.

My first order of business was securing a Sharpie. I raced to the ushers, beer salesmen -- nothing. To the pro shop. Sharpie? Yes! For $3. Wow, but had to do it. I'll save this Sharpie the rest of my life.

I also secured a $3 folder of some sort for the MVP to sign. So, after buying the most expensive school supplies known to man, I took a shot.

Mendonca was sitting two rows in front of me, right behind home plate. I weaseled my way down and wrote on the most expensive folder I have ever bought:

"Saw you win the CWS in 2008. You were our hero! Welcome to Arlington!"

He turned and gave a big smile. "Thank you, Tom Mendonca," he signed.

No one else in the seats recognized this kid except me. After I reached for his autograph and took his picture, several girls asked, "Who is he?" I told them the story.

I told them he was part of the team who won the CWS as the lowest seeded team in CWS history. I told them he was chosen to play in the USA National Team for the latest Olympics.

Cheers to all true baseball fans and Tom, who I hope will make the roster very soon.

The Little Town That Could

The first time I stepped onto the campus of Socorro High School was one hot, dry day in August of 1987. Just a few months before, over the intercom at Escontrias Middle School, the principal had announced those invited to freshman camp at the high school, which included yours truly. I was one of a handful from my middle school, who would try out for the freshman team.

We met in a portable, immediately south of the old Socorro stadium, which still stands today. There were close to 100 hopeful players, of which only half or so would be selected. To my right was a guy named Arturo Lopez, to my left Aaron Sierra. Little did I know then that those two guys would merit district, city and state honors four years later as members of a varsity team, which created history.

Socorro is a town 19 miles east of El Paso, just outside TX 375 Loop. In my day, Socorro was basically one big cotton farm. Acres upon acres of cotton filled the dessert land, land which we used plenty of times for late-night high school gatherings of sorts. There was one high school then, Socorro High School, and during my middle school years, a grand renovation of the school began in earnest. Such was the construction that many high schoolers had to walk to my school -- Escontrias Middle -- for lunch! Their cafeteria was not in operation. Also, district boundaries forced construction of a new high school -- Montwood -- north of us for the exploding population.

Most of Socorro's residents were families of hard labor. Most families bought large parcels of land and built solid homes one cinder block at a time, many beginning with mobile homes. We had a few military families residing north of I-10 (eventually relocated to Montwood) in the new area for the district. Nevertheless, as simple as life was for us in Socorro, the grand renovation of our beloved high school and the booming population east of El Paso brought magic.

The core group of players joined that hot August day stayed for four years. Some made the varsity squad early as sophomores; others as juniors. By the time we came together as seniors for two-a-days in August of 1990, I could feel something special was about to happen. And, it did. With a win over Riverside High School that Fall as the last game of the regular season, that varsity team took Socorro's football program to the playoffs for the first time in the school's history. Many other appearances followed, deeper each time. Tradition in little Socorro had begun.

But, as historic and as proud as I am to tell that story over and over, nothing compares to what was happening to the Socorro baseball team, one pitch at at time -- even back then. Peruse, if you will, what Socorro baseball has done since my time in 198o's: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Socorro_High_School_(El_Paso,_Texas)#Athletics.

Coach Chris Forbes was my linebacker's coach in high school. I'm not sure if he still has any participation in football, but back then, he was the man. He was a little younger, but the mustache and his calm, but determined disposition was the same as the one I witnessed on Saturday, June 13, at Dell Diamond.

Looking back, we were always close. Hardcore fans tell you sports are events of inches, seconds, and last minute heroics. What we live for are moments like this, when all that hard work pays off in a big way.

When the game versus Austin Westlake was in the books on Friday, June12, Socorro had already made history. They had made the final four for the first time, and won. They had advanced to the biggest game in the league: UIL Class 5A Texas State High School Baseball Championship Game.

We were at my brother's house in El Paso, after attending a very difficult funeral for a very young member of our family. The play-by-play over the radio waves boosted our morale a bit, and when the game was over and Socorro conquered, we looked at each other and almost all in unison said, "LET'S GO TO AUSTIN!" And, we did.

After packing and finding a rental car suitable for the total group of 16 travelers, we left El Paso that Friday at 11:10 p.m. Mountain, 12:10 a.m. Central. We had less than twelve hours to get to Dell Diamond, in Austin, to see history.

Like Coach Forbes said later, I had a dream as well. I envisioned us in the stadium with a sign, which read, "Drove all night to see this." I had visions of seeing many of my fellow alums, coaches and faculty members. And, I had true visions of watching those boys carry that trophy back to Socorro for the first time -- ever. All this while enjoying the moment with many family, who were troopers under my Nazi-like leadership of getting us there.

We sat in our seats precisely as the bottom half of the second inning was about to start. We had no sleep, famished and probably dehydrated. I felt bad for the ladies in our group, as they certainly put up with a lot to be there. Nevertheless, the magic began and all things painful faded away like a bad memory. The bats came alive.

After a grand slam by Corey Falvey, the dream came that much closer. The Bulldogs led by as many as 12-4. And, though Lufkin made a late game rally to come within 5, the final score was 12-7 Socorro.

For the first time ever in Socorro's history, and only the second time in the city's history, we had a state champion.

Commenting with my fellow alums after in the concourse, we all agreed the ghosts of the past flashed by. All the "almosts," were erased. A cumulative effort by all previous athletes, who graced the halls of that school, came to fruition with that pop fly in shallow center field.

It goes without saying that Coach Forbes and this 2009 championship squad will never be forgotten.

It is a memory we will take with us to our graves. It is a moment, which will live eternally.

Requiescat in pace, Abraham.

The last vivid memory I have of Abraham was a couple of years back, when he and his dad, Tavo, visited us here in Arlington during the summer. Abraham was on the eve of his senior year in high school, and one very vivid moment continues to loop in my mind.

The Guevara brothers, Abraham, and his oldest and only brother, Germain, took to wrestling in high school. They were both well suited for said sport. Short, but genetically gifted in musculature, both brothers accomplished great feats at Socorro, on the wrestling team. His room was adorned with the decorations earned during competition, including commencement from Socorro High School last May, 2008.

Abraham, more than once during his visit here, would awake to purposeful jogs at my home. I remember clearly opening the door one morning, as I was headed to the office, and no sooner had I done that than he sprinted out in full stride. I thought, "Wow. To be 17 again and able to run like that without warming up!"

The picture here is of his pre-K graduation in El Paso, many years ago.

He would say, "Tio (uncle), I'm going for a run. I have to keep in shape for wrestling." "Fine with me," I thought. Except instead of running around our cul-de-sac as I do (It's pretty big), his gait carried him quickly out of our street and my sight! I'm pretty anxious when it comes to childcare. And, while I know he was no child even then, I still reported that to his still-sleeping dad. He mustered a whisper and said, "He'll be fine. When he's done, he'll come right back." With that, I left for work.

That was the last time we spent real time with him. We would see him again briefly at great-grandpa's funeral last year (2008), but the "straw..." was when he phoned us Thursday to announce he was a brand new uncle, for his oldest and only brother had just seen a son born to this life. He was beside himself with excitement, to be in such a honorable position. An uncle...

Those were his last words to us. Early Saturday morning we received that fateful call so many do. Abraham had died at home. A history of epilepsy -- we fear -- got the best of him. A medical examiner's report will say for sure.

What is certain is that our lives have been changed forever. Our little wrestler, brand new uncle and only brother has now departed us. To tell his grandparents was the hardest thing we have had to do in recent memory. The are devastated, exclaiming, "Why wasn't it me!!!!"

Over and over our family motto (Najera family and its extended members, such as the Guevara family) has been to carpe diem, seize the day. We literally waste ourselves maximizing each moment, remembering it may be the last. How could Abraham have known he would only see his nephew once?

We are numb, stunned and deeply saddened by this.

Please, remember to seize the day for you and yours.

Abraham's tentative funeral arrangements are a prayer service Tuesday evening, June 9, 2009, in the chapel of Sunset Funeral Home Americas (9521 North Loop, El Paso, Texas 79907, 915-858-4408, http://www.sunsetfuneralhomes.net/index.cfm). A graveside will follow on Wednesday morning, June 10, 2009 at Restlawn Memorial Park in El Paso.