These wallpapers are by my friend from Japan. I like them and they fit my mood.
The weather finally let us have another baseball practice today. The biggest discovery is that my teammates really do stink. I am going to be stuck being a pitcher, the pitcher.
We had a 6 inning intra-squad game. I went 4 for 4 with 2 doubles and a homer. The homer was because he threw a slow fat one right in my wheelhouse, only went 285 feet or so. The doubles had more to do with poor fielding then power. I hit ropes not for downtown.
Pitching. I stink. I have no leg drive and no pitching coach. I just kind of cork screw my body up and then step from the mound so everything comes from the shoulder with some drive from the hips. It would be a pretty throw from deep in the hole but it's not much trying to blow 'em some smoke inside.
I tried out the knuckle ball I scoped from a cereal box years ago. It didn't do anything except get there slower, and the slider I coped from Steve Carlton doesn't really do much but it does look different getting up to the box. I got 12 strikeouts which says more about free swinging then it does my arm. I gave up no earned runs but 6 or 7 errors behind me allowed 3 runs. My squad won 8-3.
Ethel, my dog, was totally cool. She actually watched the game, followed the ball with her eyes and only chased down the foul balls that were silly enough to get close to her. I realized I'm not a pitcher when they tossed me one back slick with dog saliva and I couldn't even get it to take a nasty drop or anything different. The catcher makes me laugh because he keeps flashing me signs. I have no idea what they mean but he's real committed to them. Since I can only throw 2 pitches, well, it's futile but it does add to the atmosphere and my concentration.
About 30 minutes after practice a thunder storm ran through. I liked how it got real dark and I liked the lightening.
Spent the night getting ready for the interviews tomorrow. I discovered my printer has no black ink so my resumes are in dark blue . . . I plan to stop someplace and xerox them. For letters of reference I using a newspaper story they ran about me that makes me seem semi-god like and a letter from a deceased Senator and one form a British cabinet minister. I think they might be overkill for the kind of jobs I'm trying for, but they're all I got.
Doing that got me depressed. Looking at my fingers blackened with printer ink (trying to squeeze those last drops out) didn't lighten my mood at all.
I did manage to not eat anything today so my food supply will last for an extra day!