Needed: Favorite Baseball Lingo

Photo by Courtney Perry

Next week, Little League season begins again. This will be my fourth year coaching my son, Tanner, and his teammates. The other coaches and I end every practice and game teaching the boys one new term or phrase of baseball lingo — you know, “battery,” “frozen rope,” “can o’ corn,” that type of thing.

So, as you can imagine, after four years I’m trying to avoid too many repeats. So I send it out to you readers:

What is your favorite baseball lingo, and what does it mean?

Hawaii Doesn’t Suck

I’m putting up this quick post from LAX, where Courtney and I are en route back home after a week on the Big Island of Hawaii. My parents took my brothers and me and our spouses to celebrate our marriages and their own 70th birthdays.

Of course the weather was amazing, as was the fresh fish, the ocean breezes, the breeching humpback whales and pod of 30 dolphins and the Mai Tais. All of that was fantastic.

But, honestly, the best part was an uninterrupted week with my family. As I’ve written here before, I don’t know how I would have survived my divorce without my parents and brothers. And, as well as loving me through that, they have wholeheartedly embraced Courtney into the family. In my book, there is simply no substitute for a supportive and loving family.

I appreciate your reading and commenting during my absence, and I’m grateful to the guest bloggers. We’ll dive back into the deep end of the pool tomorrow with a Question That Haunts. But until then, I’m still dreaming of crashing waves and swim-up bars.

Labs Get No Love at Westminster

Who needs Westminster when your dog can do this?

The only dog I’ve ever owned is a Lab, and the only dog I’ll ever own is a Lab. They are, hands down, God’s favorite breed. They must be, or they wouldn’t be so incredibly awesome.

Well, the heathens at Westminster don’t seem to think so. And now the Labs themselves are so worked up about it that they’ve begun calling in sports radio shows:

“Hey thanks for having me. Longtime listener, first time caller. Look, I’m just going to be straight up with you: I’m a Labrador retriever. And I’m sick of losing at Westminster. Sick of it. It’s driving me nuts. This year we didn’t even make the cut in the sporting group. I’m embarrassed.”

“Thank you…is it Snickers? Snickers. Well, look, I hear you. There have been 137 Westminster Dog Shows and from what I can tell, a Labrador has never won. Is that true? They’re nodding in the booth. Yeah, a Lab has never won. Well, what should be done, Snickers?”

“I think we should hire Phil Jackson.”

Read the rest: Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show on Sports Radio: Longtime Listener, First-Time Barker—Jason Gay –

Hunting: It’s More Sublime than You Might Think

Here’s the text of the pecha kucha talk I gave at Emergence Christianity last week:

The joy of hunting is sublime. Surprisingly sublime, when you consider that the climax of the endeavor comes with an explosion, in which a firing pin makes a tiny dent on the metal boot of a shotgun shell, compressing gunpowder and thereby causing an explosion that ejects dozens of pellets at breathtaking velocity through a metal tube and, if fate is on your side, into the flesh of a bird on the wing. Surprisingly sublime for an activity that ends, when successful, with blood and death.

I did not grow up hunting. My father is not a hunter, nor were my grandfathers. It is a chosen avocation of mine, often distasteful to those who share my vocation. I have yet to meet another PhD in theology in the field. Instead, I hunt with firefighters and Army Reservists and computer repairmen.

I hunt only birds, because hunting for me is all about the dog. It all starts with the dog.

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