Sunday, January 22, 2006

Back on the Mound


Just haven't felt like writing lately. I know that's a lame excuse but the Doc kinda forced me to step off the mound and evaluate the situation. You see, holding back and avoiding my personal issues are really easy things for me to do. I'm actually quite good at it. Quite frankly, leaving my comfort zone to dig deeper is far worse than giving up a walk-off homer. I'm just not going to do it. I'll just avoid posting. That'll do the trick. But just a couple days ago, Doc set me straight after reading my Et tu Brute jab. He challenged me to keep writing and promised that if I would just open up, that I would see progress. Then he said something about quiting which pretty much closed the deal. Needless to say, I'm back on the mound for now. I'll give it a couple more innings to see what happens.

When I say "national cross-checker" what do you envision? I guess that really depends on who's reading this. Ten years ago it would undoubtedly be a former player who started at the local level, moved into a regional role after about five years, and progressed into the national role whenever he kissed the ring enough times or at least got lucky with several players who made it big.

Today, it could be anyone the scouting director wants. And I mean anyone. Not necessarily a former player but someone very loyal to the scouting director whom he can control and simply be an extention of himself. Let's face it, the scouting director can't be everywhere at the same time.

One of our national cross-checkers (we have several of them) has been on my turf for the last two weeks or so. We've been running hard from Jacksonville to Miami giving me the opportunity to have him see as many top area prospects that should go in the first 10 rounds. But unfortunately, the highlight of each day is not the play on the field but rather, "Where are we going to party after the last at bat?"

Good for him, very bad for me. I woke up this morning on South Beach with an empty fifth of vodka on my hotel nightstand. Or was it a handle? And don't think for a second that I stayed at one of those gems on Ocean, Collins, or Washington. No, I politely stumbled myself back to some dive on Euclid Avenue. Of course, he stayed at the Loews Hotel on Collins. Something wrong with that picture but nevertheless we must have hit at least four clubs last night: Shine, Mansion, The Clevelander, and Mango's.

He's mid-thirties, former player, a young Tom Selleck look-a-like. A real charmer. Not to mention that groups of ladies are all over him like pine tar stuck to George Brett's bat. I, on the other hand, have had my day in the sun. Been there, done that. Old hat. I could care less about being seen and developing long-term relationships . . . albeit for one night.

God only knows where he is tonight. But the night is still relatively young. I'm sure I'll get a call on my cell phone at some point after midnight. Just so he's up by tomorrow afternoon. We need to be in South Miami by 3:00 p.m. to watch two high school workouts and then afterwards meet with the families of two blue chip prospects.

5 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Welcome back, Cutter. Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back.

Sorry man, couldn't resist. *grin*

Seriously, though, I'm glad you are posting again.

12:50 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

i'm bored

1:36 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I,too, am happy to see you back. I know the interspection is hell, but your writing shows great insight into a little-seen world. Thanks and we are rooting for you :)

8:06 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

gosh, that last post brings a tear to my eye..... (sob) ... folks -- don't you get it -- it's FICTION!!!!!!!!!!

5:11 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

and if you add an r to that, it spells friction. just thought i'd toss that out there.

6:54 PM  

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