For fans like myself, who grew up around and love the game of baseball. After waiting all offseason plus four more months.
You add that up and you’ll get 267 days of boredom, waiting, impatience, and so much more.
But for me, all is right considering that the Braves are off to a (2-1) season after the first series of the season.
Following a well-pitched 1-0 loss on Opening Day Friday, Atlanta found the New York Mets weakness and pulled out two consecutive wins.
Saturday, the Braves were literally down to their last strike, but then game newcomer Marcell Ozuna, who blasted a game-tying home run and then Dansby Swanson scored the game-winning run in the top of the tenth.
On Sunday, the Braves brought out what we’ve been waiting all offseason to see, a 17-hit, 14-run outburst to cruise past the Mets 14-1.
Tonight the Braves will take on the Tampa Bay Rays for two games in Tampa, Florida, and the Rays will follow the Braves back to Atlanta for two more Wednesday and Thursday.
Baseball is backand everything is right in my world.
Perhaps you were watching my travels throughout this great State of Alabama this weekend on Facebook.
You may wonder what I was doing, you may also wonder what made me pay visits to the many statues and gravesites in multiple cities.
Well, since sports have been basically nonexistent since mid-March, I have come across a newfangled hobby, touring cemeteries; both virtually and physically to pay respects to those that are no longer here in bodily form, but rather in the presence of God.
On Saturday, I visited a statue dedicated to the memory of Booker T. Washington, a mid-19th-century and early-20th-century social reformer, who believed in hard work, and self-education.
On Sunday, Dad and I took a family friend with us to Mobile, Alabama, to visit multiple cemeteries with several early-Mobile notable figures.
Our first visit Sunday, was to the notoriously haunted, Church Street Graveyard, where the man who created a Mardi Gras Revival in 1866 and 1867, is buried.
Perhaps you’ve heard of him, Joseph Stillwell “Joe” Cain Jr. while in Church Street Graveyard, we saw the famous Boyington Oak that stands just outside the Northwest corner of the 19th-century New England churchyard-style cemetery atop the grave of Charles Robert Stuart Boyington, a mid-17th-century printer and gambler, whom moved to Mobile in search of a better life than the one he had experienced in his hometown of New Haven, Connecticut.
Mr. Boyington, allegedly had become friends with Nathaniel Frost, whom owed him money from one of their poker games but refused to give Boyington the money.
As a result, Mr. Frost would be stabbed, robbed, and left for dead inside of the Church Street Graveyard.
Mr. Boyington would be framed as the suspect, taken into custody, and hanged in 1835. According to legend, his last words, as his feet dangled from a tree at Oakleigh, which is now historic landmark, were “A tree will grow from my heart to prove my innocence.”
After our stop to visit Alabama’s third-most haunted burial ground, the three of us made our way to the 120-acre Magnolia Cemetery just down the road, to pay respects to Confederate States Army General Braxton Bragg, whom I claim is my namesake. We also saw numerous graves of confederate soldiers.
Next, we travelled to the 19th-century, Saluda Hill Cemetery, in Spanish Fort, Alabama, to visit the grave of Zachariah Godbold, the only known Revolutionary War veteran buried in Baldwin County, Alabama.
Moral of the story, pay respects to those that came before anyway you can, you never know what you’ll run across in the process.
Recently, I’ve been thinking about something, I’ve been thinking about how many times people fail once and never get back to their feet try again.
I have failed a lot in my life. In fact, I’ve failed more times than I care to count. But the difference between failure and success is the willingness to get back on your feet and try the same task that you have failed multiple times.
Try the task until you have conquered it. You can try it and fail 1,000 times but get up 1,001 times.
Reggie Jackson struck out 26-hundred times in his career, the most in the history of baseball, but people only remember the home runs. Thomas Edison attempted 1,000 failed experiments but his 1,0001st experiment was the light bulb.
But do you know why they succeeded? Because they refused to let failure get the best of them.
At some point in your life, you will fail, it’s a part of life.
Sure, you can win 1,000 times, but you will lose more than once. If we succeeded in everything we do every time we did it, success wouldn’t be worth celebrating because we would be used to it.
They say run towards your dream, but if you run towards it, you will be winded once you get there. Walk towards your dream and youwill have enough energy to execute your dream to fullest extent.
Hank Aaron failed more than once, Babe Ruth failed more than once.
You see, failure is inevitable. You will fail, but do you have what it takes to succeed one time and change your life? Fall 1,000 times but get up 1,001.
May 24, 2016 is a day that I will never forget. It was the day that my life really began.
I can remember standing in the halls of the Dunn-Oliver Acadome on the campus of Alabama State University in Montgomery, Alabama, anxiously awaiting my name to be called.
But there was something about graduation that wasn’t right. So many of my friends that were supposed to be graduating high school with me that night, weren’t able to do so because they had been called home to be with God.
Dressed in a black and gold cap and gown, mostly black, I can clearly remember being soaked in sweat by the time my name was called.
When my name was finally called, it seemed like everything went in slow motion.
As I walked across the stage with tear-filled eyes because I knew that so many of my friends were looking down on me from Heaven, I hit my chest twice and point towards the sky as if to say, “This one’s for you.”
Unlike so many others in my graduating class, I clearly knew what I wanted to do one day.
When I sat back down in my seat, I remember feeling a sense of relief.
That fall, I went off to college. I was only there for a semester before I realized that I just wasn’t meant to go college. I already had what it took.
So I decided to take the long way around it.
Three years removed from college, I have come further than I ever thought was possible, especially without a college degree.
But, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Clearly God knew far before I did, that I wouldn’t be in college more than a semester.
The point of this piece is to serve as a sense of inspiration. Some are meant to go to college, others aren’t. But as long as you keep a clear mind and full heart, you will be successful in any aspect of life.
I haven’t written in a while, but recently, I made a post on Facebook about a 1930’s outlaw couple.
Perhaps you’ve heard of them, unless you’ve lived under a rock your entire life. Their names? Bonnie Elizabeth Parker and Clyde Chestnut Barrow.
Yes, Clyde’s real middle name was Chestnut.
As I made the post, a friend of mine, who is from a Louisiana town/city not far from where the couple that ran all the through Louisiana and parts of East Texas, were ambushed and killed on May 23, 1934 in Gibsland, Louisiana.
The day after I made the post, she visited the Bonnie and Clyde Ambush Museum there in Gibsland and sent me pictures of some of the content. She was also kind enough to allow me to use them in this piece.
Later, that night, she made a comment on the post about a book entitled, “Ambush: The Real Story ofBonnie and Clyde” by Ted Hinton. I believe Mr. Hinton is no longer living, but I decided that since I have always had an interest in the two outlaws’ tragic love story, why not purchase the book?
So, I went to the Books app on my phone, typed the title in, and purchased the book. I’m currently only in the second chapter, but I will say, I’ve been hooked from the first page.
While I have an interest in their story, I don’t condone what they did back in the 1930’s, but it’s history and I’ve always had a great love for history, especially stories like this one.
Stay safe, I’ll talk to y’all soon, I’m going to go back to reading more of this incredible story.
Ever since this pandemic started several months ago, I haven’t watched the news, I’ve avoided watching tv as much as possible.
Every night before drifting off to sleep, I try to read the Bible. Recently, I read Isiah 41:10 and it got me thinking, you know, we may act like sports need to hurry up and resume, but they can wait.
Just yesterday, a friend of mine posted on Snapchat a picture that read “Sometimes, you are delayed because God knows that there is a storm headed right in your direction.” I can’t think of a more fitting picture to post during times like these.
There is light at the end of this pitch black tunnel that we are all in right now. Someday, we will be giving hugs again to the ones that we love and shaking hands with friends.
There will be a day when we don’t have to be six feet apart. There will be a day when we go back to work.
Concerts will return, sports will return, and everything will return to normal, but it won’t happen on our timing, it will happen on God’s timing. Be patient and trust Him.
ttended my last game at Turner Field on July 13, 2012, when the Braves took on their National League East division-rival, New York Mets, out of Flushing, New York, a suburb of New York City.
The starting pitchers that night were Dillon Gee from the New York Mets and the Braves handed the ball to Auburn, Alabama’s Tim Hudson. Hudson is a 1997 graduate of Auburn University, where he was teammates with that night’s starting catcher, David Ross. Together in college, those two won the College World Series during Hudson and Ross’ Senior year of 1997.
When I was heading to Turner Field that afternoon, I could feel my chest getting tighter the closer we got to the field.
I knew that this would most-likely be the very last time I ever stepped foot into the place where I fell in love with the game of baseball.
That night it rained for three hours before the game ever got started and it was 12:30 before the game got started.
We started until the end of the sixth inning. Fittingly, Chipper Jones had the last at-bat I ever witnessed at Turner Field.
But this was much different than the first time I ever saw him at the plate in person, he didn’t get out.
In fact, he sent a ball deep into the Atlanta night, over the right-center field wall. He must’ve known I was in the stands, because otherwise, he would’ve probably gotten out as was often the case.
The Braves ended up winning the game 8-5.
Meeting Tim Hudson Five Years Later:
On April 7, 2017, my uncle, who coached my cousin’s travel ball team, called me to tell me that they would be playing a team out of Auburn, Alabama, called the Colt 45’s, and it was coached by Tim Hudson.
When he told me this, I knew immediately that I would be in attendance just to see the game.
But, I didn’t know it would result in me meeting the last pitcher I ever saw start at Turner Field face-to-face and having a conversation with him.
On April 8, 2017, I woke up early, my uncle picked me up and we headed to Lagoon Park in Montgomery, Alabama.
As I approached the field, I could see Tim was carrying his San Francisco Giants warmup bag, for those of you that aren’t familiar with him, he won a World Series title in San Francisco in 2014.
He was busy when I approached, so I waited until he wasn’t busy to get his attention. After his team had taken the field for pregame warmups, he approached the dugout that I was standing beside, I took this opportunity to yell “Tim!” And then motioned for him to come over to me. He did so politely.
I mentioned to him that my goal was to become a Major League Baseball broadcaster one day and then he and I talked a few more minutes, I asked him “Would you mind if I got a picture with you?” He responded “Absolutely brother, come on.” Afterwards I told him that he was the last pitcher a game at Turner Field that I attended, he said “Is that the game when it rained forever?” I said “It was, y’all didn’t start playing until 12:30 a.m., he responded “That’s it.” He and I both shared a laugh because we both knew how that turned out for the New York Mets, whom both of us hated. The last thing I asked him was “Who gave you the nickname ‘The Bulldog’ he smiled and said, “Two people are responsible for that nickname, Chipper and Bobby Cox, Chipper started it first because he said I went after hitters like a bulldog and after a few weeks, the skipper only called me “Bulldog”. I thanked him and before I sat down I said “Go Braves!” He said “Chop on, my brother.”
As many of you know, I’ve always been a huge Braves fan and I’m devastated that the Braves didn’t start on time, but that doesn’t mean they won’t start at all.
For 22 years, I’ve very rarely missed a game, and I don’t plan on missing any this year once they take the field.
Friday afternoon, the MLB announced that it had come to an agreement to shorten the 2020 season to what I assume would be anywhere from 125 to 82 games, but they won’t start until the mass gathering and travel bans are lifted.
While I’m anxious for the start of the season, I know that the Braves and the MLB have the safety and well-being of their fans, players, staff etc. as a first priority.
I’ve always heard good things come to those who wait. While I never thought I would see the day that anything like this took place, I’ve seen it.
As fans, all that we can do now is wait and ride this chaotic proverbial storm out. Baseball will be back at some point in 2020.
While we don’t know exactly when that will be, we will wait as long as we have to because when it does return, that will make it just that much sweeter.
They aren’t doing this for spite, they are doing this for the safety and well-being of millions of people.
As much as I miss Braves baseball, I understand completely why they are doing this.
They are doing this because they genuinely care about their fans, players, staff etc. and I appreciate the fact that they are taking these necessary precautions.