it's always hard to try to find something to write about after a big loss

So i go on chatroulette to change the subject and end up talking to some kid baseball player from Las Vegas who happens to have a broken arm and some ligament damage. It was a good chat that almost didn't happen... he tried to get rid of me 2x but i kept popping back up (some weird glitch), and then he finally said what you 3x... and i made a few sports puns one of then having to do with 3 strikes you are out, which got us on a baseball roll. I started telling him about "windmill Robertson" who tore up the Scarborough little league in 1983 setting a record that still stands to this day (most batters hit by a pitch)... you see i was a little wild as a picture so i had to compensate by playing the inside of the base... back the batter off the plate a bit and then go for the strikeout... which ended up more often in a line drive double into center field. Later i was moved to shortstop but apparently it's not cool to go into a swearing fit when you bobble an easy ground ball in the 6th inning. then i was moved to the outfield where on one play i would make an amazing diving catch that all thought impossible to get and then on the next play i would have a routine fly ball bounce off the bone in my hand and to the ground.

The game of hockey has always suited my nature... aggressive fore-check, shoot from anywhere and force your own rebound... attack defend... he who can last the strongest the longest wins... there is great technical merit but one can be effective with smart and fearless play. It's a game where you are expected to physically intimidate the opposition and the game is constantly changing so a new play is always available and a high risk move can make you a hero or a goat in an instant... i guess that's the high slider in baseball on a 3-2 pitch... but when that pitch is hit deep to center field the fielder can't make an amazing play send it back and score for his own team.

who cares... it's like splitting hairs... that said Hockey is a better game... which puts us back to the start and why i was so bitter in the first place.. a game lost that should have been won... that familiar empty feeling of failure finds it's cosy home above my diaphragm and below my heart.