I decided that I would wait until Tuesday to write this week’s entry despite the obvious title of the column. I figured everyone would be too busy barbequing or doing whatever activities they choose to do on their day off from work/school. Plus, I figured my column mostly serves as a time-killer (or better put- procrastination aide) on those dreaded Monday mornings when no one wants to get the work week underway.
Accordingly, here it is on the first day of the work week (which happens to be Tuesday this week). First of all, I can’t believe it’s almost June. Time has flown by these past few months. I think doing the same thing every day really lends a hand to the passage of time. I don’t think this is a result of monotony; instead, I find it can be attributed to the nature of having a routine. Since I’ve adapted to the “rehab routine,” time has really seemed to fly. This past week, I went out to eat with a few guys I played with in Missoula last year along with our pitching coach there (Mel Stottlemyre Jr.). It was fun to get an opportunity to reminisce on our experiences in our first summer of professional baseball. We joked about all the funny things that happened, remembered a few notable games, and of course, complained about the never-ending bus rides.
Up in the Pioneer League, we bused all over Montana, Idaho, and Wyoming. We even ventured down to the Salt Lake City, Utah area for a series. We would do anything to kill the time on some of those 10 to 12 hour bus trips- play cards, watch movies, listen to ipods, read books, etc. I thought one of the most difficult aspects of the rigorous travel schedule was having to start a game after an all-night bus trip. I remember when we bused 12 hours home from Salt Lake City after playing the Ogden Raptors and arrived back in Missoula around 7 a.m. I couldn’t sleep on the bus and I was the starting pitcher that evening. Luckily, I was able to catch a decent nap at my apartment, and I just had to make sure I kept myself focused during the game since I knew I would be sleep-deprived.
It’s funny to me how perspectives can change as a result of circumstances. Last summer, we would all complain about the long bus trips, but now, I would gladly bus 40 hours if it meant that I could pitch the next day. I guess I don’t have to wait too much longer since I am going to start throwing off of a mound this week. Hopefully things keep falling into place and I find myself back on the field (and I guess the bus) sooner than expected. Until next week……