Wednesday, September 27, 2006

He is My Best Good Friend


That doesn't happen every day. Yes I like to quote "Forest Gump" a lot. That's what happens when you watch it six to 7,000 times.

As we all know, this is my BLOG dedication week. I started with good ol' Mozart, did a tid bit on Forest people yesterday and now here we are today. That guy in the picture is Michael Field. He and I met when we were around 10 years old. Man we have known each other for over 17 years now.

We met in good ol' Hoosier town. That's Indiana for you South Paw's. Michael and his mom and dad had just moved from San Diego when baseball season was starting. My dad was the head coach and we hit it off immediately. Before I knew it, I was his first catcher and he my first and only pitcher. Now you have to understand something here, Michael didn't throw like the other pitchers in the league. He threw hard and wild.

I specifically remember one day when I was taking batting practice and he was pitching. I went for an inside ball and I heard the bat make that awful sound it makes when aluminum gets hurt. As bikers we all know the sound. The only problem was that the ball went off my thumb too. Nobody ever really thought it hit my thumb because of the sound it made. However, the doctor confirmed that a few millimeters in either direction and it would have been broke. Thanks for not breaking my finger Michael.

During summers we were inseparable. I was either at his house or he at mine. When I found out that we would be moving four houses down from him and his family. Well I think you can imagine.

So we grew up together doing all sorts of stupid kid things and having a blast the entire time. I can't tell all the stories because that would take ages. However I can tell you that I remember our first break up. We were jumping around on my trampoline when Michael spiked me. You know that pre-jump thing that makes people go really high. Well I was landing on my back when he spiked and my legs shot directly at his chest. I nailed him. Really I took him out. He went flying backwards off the trampoline and landed on his back. Got up pretty pissed and crying. He ran home and said "I'm never coming back." It was over forever. Quit crying people, he was back at my house the next day.

Now wait a tic here. Isn't this supposed to be about bikes? Hold on I am getting there. If I can relate Mozart to bikes, surely I can do this.

Michael was a good pitcher for a long time. I didn't stick with baseball. So in high school we parted ways for awhile. Then college came and he still pitched and I was still golfing. Michael was throwing more accurate and throwing hard. I remember one summer day during college break I was going to throw some long toss with him. I could hardly get the ball to where he was standing and every time the ball came my way I thought my head was going to get blown off.

While growing up I always wondered how he could throw harder than me. I asked him one day and he said "All you have to do, is move your arm faster." That's why I liked him so much. He has a simple philosophy about life and can be apart for a long time. Once we get back together it is as though we live next to each other.

During college Michael threw his arm out and had to have a couple shoulder surgeries that put his career as a pitcher to an end. My golf career ended my first year at school.

Michael was very lucky and met a wonderful woman during college. So our last hiatus together was our spring break trip Senior year. We went on a cruise and probably had more fun on a cruise than two people are supposed to have. He bought a really nice ring for his soon to be wife.

Next thing I know, I am the best man. The wedding rocked. Now Michael and his wife live in Bloomington Indiana and as you know I live here in SC. We get to see each other about three or four times a year.

So why am I dedicating all of this to Michael? Well just the other day I called him up and he told me that he is training for a half marathon. That blew me away. I don't think I have seen him exercise much more than frisbee since college. I don't say anything about it because he is my best friend and he can do what he wants. However I would like to see him live a long a prosperous life. So I was stoked to hear he had the motivation to train a little. I don't know what has motivated him. It could have been that beer that he was able to balance perfectly on his gut during our spring break trip. It could be his wife telling him to get his butt off the couch and run with her. Maybe, just maybe even my biking has influenced him in a way that makes him want to get into shape. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. If you see him running, tell him good job. It's little things like this that keep us going. Seeing progress and feeling good about one's self.

I have motivated a few people before. Heck, even my dad said he drug his bike out for a short spin in the back yard the other day. So what I say to you today is to motivate somebody else. If you have a best friend, call them up and chat nicely.

Luckily I will see Michael real soon. Peace out Brother!

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

You make the kick on the trampoline sound like you didn't kick me on purpose. Well I will let you know that I went flying a good 25 feet in the air, then crashed to the ground and slid for 5 feet. Then I went home crying!

ExtrmTao said...

What is this anominimity that you choose to use? Of all the wonderful things I said about you, you would dwell on the trampoline kick huh?

daddyo said...

Ok, wah wah wah, you didn't mention that the trampoline was only a foot off the ground ... you both need to get to work ... just kidding...I look forward to the writings and insight, and then the resulting responses... Alrighty Then.

Peace, out.