A little more about last night

 

The image of eating chili dogs (sans onions) in a parking lot
was meant to be sort of humorous. (A&W)

OK, so let me explain...

One challenge of writing a post every night since the end of 2018 is (obviously) coming up with content.

Some nights, I really struggle with it. I'm either too tired for a deep dive or simply out of ideas at that moment.

Thus last night's post came to be.

Yes, I was bummed about my performance at first. I was embarrassed. I misidentified players at the plate. I wasn't smooth. I can offer every reason why but they come off as excuses and that's just not good enough.

The heat was a factor. Sure. I was hungry, despite the chicken fingers Sean and I shared before the game. I was tired. Probably low sugar. No rhythm in the booth and so on.

OK, all true, and, yes, it was my 13th game in 13 days but I was hardly alone in that.

I went in looking forward to The Beatles' angle of the day (it was a Fab Four-themed day at the stadium), prepared to have fun by dropping song references and addressing any trivia questions. Then I started worrying that I was overdoing it (call this some PTSD from a past life).

In my brain, I have to be better than what I was yesterday. I realize my expectations are usually unacceptably high but even if I don't reach them, I at least drive home feeling decent.

Last night was different for sure. I leaned on my car at one point and just looked at my phone as well as the utter cluelessness I felt when I stood in the cat food aisle at Wal-Mart.

Yet, to an extent, I just wanted to make fun of the Shania Twain music playing. I didn't want to bury Shania -- I have no axe to grind and I've sort of mellowed on ripping artists (Maroon 5 still sucks) -- but I wanted to turn that into a little self-loathing comedy. 

However, when I do write a post like that, it leads to concern about the details and I appreciate it. There were questions and comments -- publicly and privately.

The big takeaway is that I care so damn much about every call. I want these players to appreciate those clips. I want fans to love them. I want Sean to be proud of his father. Same with my friends. I want Renegades fans to say, "That's OUR broadcaster."

I want the team to feel that way also, and push for me to call more. 

But, by the end of the post, I noted that I'd move past it, and I sort of did. I went about my day today, albeit purely exhausted. I realized both Zach Neubauer and I were basically zombies on "Renegades Weekly." Zach has a good reason. The guy runs all over the stadium every day.

I talk.

So, yes, I got rattled last night and I'll get back at it as soon as possible. As of now, I have nothing to call until next Tuesday and that's OK. I'll work some depo jobs and make some money. I'll do stuff around the house. I'll cover the Gades every night from home while they're on the road.

In the moment last night, I was bummed and I thought I had a slightly humorous post at my own expense. There was something about a movie about a broadcaster sitting in a parking lot eating chili dogs (played by Amy Schumer) that made me chuckle.

Then I slept and moved on. I appreciate the love and I'm even a bit embarrassed by it.

Live and learn.

I'm OK.

Really.