Haste makes waste

 

A recent present: a really cool pen made out of a baseball bat!

Blech.

I should be in a press box in Stamford, calling Greenwich/Norwalk by now. I had the notes prepared and was pumped for the games. The first game -- Westhill/McMahon -- started with dark skies.

Soon, I saw the wave of the hands. Bring the teams in. It didn't take long before we were told there would be no more baseball. We got to the bottom of the second of the first game and we were done.

The games would be completed and made up tomorrow. Same start time.

Because I'm committed to The Clubhouse, I lose the broadcasts and a payday.

I drove home in one big old lousy mood as the rain poured along Long Ridge Road. I came home, ordered dinner, ate, and watched M*A*S*H.

I'm not even feeling the urge to watch the Yankees or anything else. I have my reasons.

Blech.

Take a deep breath, Rob.

I know. Too much on the mind.

There are things that I feel responsible for. Too lengthy a list to mention.

That's why there are almost a "Where's Waldo" level of mistakes in each blog post. Oh, they're here and not hard to find.

I multitask like crazy and I'm sort of good at it most of the time. Still, maybe I need a shot of caffeine.

Twice this week I've spelled names wrong in emails. Apologies to Marc (not Mac) and Tyson (not Tysen).

Jeez. 

Lately, with the Gades away, I'm supporting the team by sending a roster where needed and talking to the Wilmington PA announcer about pronunciations. Of course, when there's a game, I often write the story while I have friends or family visiting.

The team is in Brooklyn (and rained out) tonight so I updated the roster and sent things to key people.

I'm not complaining. I'm actually driven by the chaos but there's often a price to be paid.

I'm a people pleaser. I want people to know how passionate I am and how hard I try. I don't think they're bad traits but I can do it all better.

But, as someone said to me just today, "I'm afraid it's probably not noticed." They're probably right.

I haven't even been near "The Owner's Box Horse Racing Podcast" in a few weeks and, of course, I drip with guilt on that.

So to make "The Clubhouse" happen tomorrow, I had to go to Greenwich today and pick up equipment since Bob Small is staying in the studio. See, we're a radio station with no board operators available other than Bob (or me). Obviously, one of us will be in Mount Kisco for the show.

Of course, I deal with the ad-hoc, last-minute requests, especially from the depo world, but occasionally from the broadcasting world.

Again, it's great chaos but I worry about letting people down and, on occasion, I worry about running myself into the ground.

Which I basically did over the weekend. I hustled to mow the lawn and had to stop because 1) storms were approaching and 2) I was physically exhausted. The heat was getting to me. Not good.

Part of it is that I need to chill. I'm trying too hard. Deep breaths, my boy! No need to be hyper-perfect while doing anything. Basically perfect will suffice. 

There's something wrong with that, isn't there?

Today almost definitely ends high school coverage. Tomorrow ends "The Clubhouse" for a few months.

Saturday is my last youth sports call (for now) though there could be American Legion, Babe Ruth, and Little League Baseball.

Somewhere in there, I probably should take a break, right?

Hahahahahaahahahahaahahahahahaaha. A break. That's funny. Even when I go to North Carolina, what do I do? I've done "Doubleheader" down there at least once.

I chose to not do "Doubleheader" yesterday, instead doing the "Renegades Weekly" live podcast that I called "Renegades Live." Oy.

Seriously, I'm not complaining. This is what I do. This is who I am. 

I just need to refocus and chill.

Consider this my deep breath.