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The middle gel has been after me to do a “Flappy Bird” post here for the last few weeks.  (Since I’m guessing teh Mothe is probably the only regular here who doesn’t know what this means, I invite her to go here for an explanation.)  The gel is something of an addict, with a latest high score somewhere in the 160’s, I believe.  We usually have about twenty minutes of sitting in the ol’ Jeep waiting for her school to start of a morning, during which she plays FB while we hobnob.  Often times recently, she has tried to get me to play it, going so far as to rap her iThingy against my knuckles so she can claim that just once I gave it a go.  I have not failed to point out to her how lame such gestures really are.

As to the post?  Well, as I told her, about the game itself I’ve really got nothing.  The truth of the matter is that the thing simply doesn’t interest me, nor do the stories of unhinged fan devotion that I’ve heard.  Meh, these days nothing really surprises me anymore.

Indeed, if I was her age, perhaps I could see it, but I’m much older and more curmudgeonly now.  Perhaps it’s a blessing that we did not have such advanced technology back in my own misspent yoot.  In those days, it was all arcade games and my own personal predilections – Berzerk and Spy Hunter – were limited by the number of quarters I could scrounge.  (And, truth be told, I loved Spy Hunter mostly because of the “Peter Gunn” soundtrack.)  I can’t help thinking that the modern download-till-you-drop unlimited access to this kind of thing is not healthy.

Anyhoo, I had intended to spike the gel by posting here a “Hitler rants” Downfall parody concerning the Flappy Birds.  There are several to chose from but, alas, while most have some funny points, they all contain quite foul language, and “I haven’t any sympathy for ill-bred taunts.”   However, instead of leaving you hanging, I will post (or perhaps repost) one of my personal favorite, if tangential,  Downfall parodies:

charlie-brownGreetings, my fellow port swillers!

Well, this evening saw the first softball practice of the Robbo Family Spring 2014 little league softball season, with the youngest gel’s Triple-A squad assembling for their inaugural meeting down the local elementary school diamond.    I expect the eldest gel’s senior squad will hold their first practice very shortly as well.   As has been the case the past few years, I will be contributing my little bit to the cause by serving as an assistant coach on both gel’s teams.

Counting Fall Ball and the Spring Season separately, a quick calculation on ol’ Robbo’s fingers indicates that this is his 14th half-season of coaching and/or managing gels’ softball in some capacity or other.   I must say that at this point I still know next to nothing about the job, either in terms of teaching technique or in terms of what they call personnel management.  But give me a leader who knows what he or she is about, and I flatter myself that I’m a pretty decent second fiddle.  With that role I am quite content.

Still, what I love most about the experience is just being out at the diamond.  There’s just a certain feel about the grounds, the weather and the whole attitude that appeals to me.  Also, I love the repeated marvel of watching twelve random gels starting a season not knowing each other or their coaches from Adam but gradually coalescing into a genuine “team”.

As for the youngest gel, she’s the oldest player on her team and is somewhat hacked that she didn’t make Majors this spring.   I have pointed out to her that she has no right to make Majors, but has to earn it, and that her try-out performance a couple weeks ago was somewhat, ah, lackadaisical.   Perhaps the lesson was learned, because she was throwing the ball around mighty crisp this evening.  Let’s hope it continues.

 

 

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