this is what it looks like when i unleash the fury

dateline: pinson, al (photo: jacob sutton)

a picture's worth a thousand words, huh? we'll see about that. the little blur just to the right of kevin williams standing on first at the ready (with his hands on his hips, no less) to take off as soon as i make contact with the slowly-pitched softball? the blur is what's left of a screaming liner i've driven between the shortstop and third-baseman. at least, that's how i would tell the story to someone that didn't see it with their own eyes. truth be told, there are all sorts of things wrong with this picture. my weight-transfer is all off-balance as you can tell by the look of my falling backwards in the box. my uppercut of a swing is the tell-tale sign of why the hit was a grounder through a hole in the infield and not a laser over the left-fielder's head. my head is already worried about where the ball is headed rather than staying down on the pitch. but...since jacob captures the fact that every muscle above my ankle is clenched and working toward the common goal of getting my ass on base, it still looks pretty cool.

this is the vantage point of humc softball's fans, and this is a nice way to think of hannah remembering her daddy's athletic exploits. a picture, frozen in time, that alludes to what-used-to-be my athleticism slowly, but surely giving way to mornings-after where "i feel a lot more sore than i ought to."

not that i am "old" yet. and this is not going to turn into an ode about "what used to be." i am completely happy that i still have the want and the ability to go play outside like i did when i was eight years-old. i was just flipping around the internet this afternoon, caught this, and felt pretty good about this moment.

on a number of varying levels, this moment defines a lot about what is happy in my life. being on a field. family in tow. friends that i share a dugout with. balls. strikes. grown men taking a recreational game of softball way too seriously. dirt. scowls. shouts of praise. groans (and curses) of regret. competition. camaraderie. good-lookin' jerseys. knee-high socks. sunsets. winning.

i was able to go to church this morning for the first time in a few weeks. during the sunday school hour, my senior pastor walked into our class and shared a different kind of "moment" with us. he told us it was ok to grieve the unexpected loss of julie and that we, as a group that was somewhat close to julie, would not be forgotten as the church moved forward. he may have meant every single word he said, but he was still full of shit. because he is either too naive to see the same writing on the wall that i see or is lying to himself (and us) by refusing to look in that wall's direction. i am not sure which would be worse. what followed was a worship service where, outside of communion, bill cosby was the highlight (and the main attraction for those keeping score at home. it's been a bad month.). i would try and explain the interjection of old-school stand-up into our service to you, but it wouldn't make it any less ridiculous.

you know what, though? i am not going to let it ruin my afternoon. nope. i won't let that or the rain that got in the way of my necessary yard-work ruin the sign from god (or my normal internet surfing routine) that i should focus on the moment captured in the above photo and all the pleasant things it brings to mind.

now, if you'll excuse me, my head has an afternoon appointment with a brick wall.