A new week has begun!
Sunday, January 20, 2019
A new week of fun and memories has begun in Port St. Lucie, Florida. I arrived in the state last evening and picked up my rental car. Shortly thereafter I checked into my hotel for the evening. After a long day I chose not to drive down immediately and give myself a decent night's sleep before heading south in the morning.
Woke up this mornin'. (sounds like the beginning of a blues tune, right?) and headed to local location of First Watch. First Watch is a very good restaurant which I highly recommend. They don't have them in the Twin Cities, which is a good thing-or maybe it isn't. They have something called Million Dollar Bacon. It's everything that something with that name should be...and then some.
Enough foodspeak. Off I headed down Florida's Turnpike to Port St. Lucie.
Upon arrival I saw a few campers, mostly unknown to myself, in the lobby watching the later stages of the NFC Championship game. I got my room key and headed upstairs. After a quick shower and I made my way to the Island Club for tonight's festivities.
Even though this is my sixth camp I still have the butterflies inside when I go to these things on the opening day. I saw familiar faces but mostly the room was filled with rookies who are wide-eyed and in some cases in mild shock over all that they have already seen. And they haven't seen much of anything yet. I missed the early workout, but that's okay. I never accomplish much of anything during that thing anyway. The only thing I missed is the thrill of seeing my new uniform, this year with a new number, in my locker. I shipped my equipment down last week via the fine folks at Federal Express (does anyone refer to them by that name anymore?).
My designated teammate this year is my good friend Greg Cockrell, whom I first met in 2017. He and I have become as close as blood brothers in the past 24 months. We contact each other during the year and encourage each other in our endeavors, whatever they may be. He has even honored me by asking me to be in his wedding party in May of this year. He saved me a seat at a table which also included my good friend Pat Cooley. We all met each other in '17 based primarily that our lockers were next to each other due to our last names being sequential on the list of players who did not select designated teammates in advance. Sometimes life is all about timing.
The dinner was fun with Commissioner Eric Heilmann presiding at the podium. The coaches were all introduced and after dinner we heard from all of the rookies, who each told us of how they ended up here. One rookie is a Cubs fan who came at the request of his friend. Another is a woman who attended Red Sox camp last year and now she is returning the gesture this year. One is going to turn, I believe 82 soon. And one is actually the father of former Met and camp coach Nelson Figueroa. It was so cool to see how "Figgy" was so proud of his dad being in camp. It was a sweet moment to see them standing together during the intros.
Tomorrow we have evaluations in the morning followed by the draft, the announcement of teams and then game number one of the week. I'm hoping to have fun, play well and stay out of the trainer's room. One of the beautiful things will be watching the rookies put on their uniforms for the very first time. I remember my first year, 2013, and the thrill of seeing myself in the mirrored door that you walk through as you enter the clubhouse. It was like shaving 40 years off my age. And some stubble on my face, for that matter.
The happy reunions will continue as I greet non-rookies, and along with it will be that moment when my brain cannot come up with the name of the guy in front of me. That's the moment when I fall back on generic terms like "bud", "pal", "bro", "kid", big-guy", "fella", "big pimpin'", "my man" and the ever-popular "dude".
Day two is tomorrow of my week of fun. I look forward to reconnecting with guys I've played with and against over five of the last six years. But if I call you "home slice" then your name is not only lost in my memory bank, my memory bank account is overdrawn.
See you tomorrow. Let's Go Mets!
A new week of fun and memories has begun in Port St. Lucie, Florida. I arrived in the state last evening and picked up my rental car. Shortly thereafter I checked into my hotel for the evening. After a long day I chose not to drive down immediately and give myself a decent night's sleep before heading south in the morning.
Woke up this mornin'. (sounds like the beginning of a blues tune, right?) and headed to local location of First Watch. First Watch is a very good restaurant which I highly recommend. They don't have them in the Twin Cities, which is a good thing-or maybe it isn't. They have something called Million Dollar Bacon. It's everything that something with that name should be...and then some.
Enough foodspeak. Off I headed down Florida's Turnpike to Port St. Lucie.
Upon arrival I saw a few campers, mostly unknown to myself, in the lobby watching the later stages of the NFC Championship game. I got my room key and headed upstairs. After a quick shower and I made my way to the Island Club for tonight's festivities.
Even though this is my sixth camp I still have the butterflies inside when I go to these things on the opening day. I saw familiar faces but mostly the room was filled with rookies who are wide-eyed and in some cases in mild shock over all that they have already seen. And they haven't seen much of anything yet. I missed the early workout, but that's okay. I never accomplish much of anything during that thing anyway. The only thing I missed is the thrill of seeing my new uniform, this year with a new number, in my locker. I shipped my equipment down last week via the fine folks at Federal Express (does anyone refer to them by that name anymore?).
My designated teammate this year is my good friend Greg Cockrell, whom I first met in 2017. He and I have become as close as blood brothers in the past 24 months. We contact each other during the year and encourage each other in our endeavors, whatever they may be. He has even honored me by asking me to be in his wedding party in May of this year. He saved me a seat at a table which also included my good friend Pat Cooley. We all met each other in '17 based primarily that our lockers were next to each other due to our last names being sequential on the list of players who did not select designated teammates in advance. Sometimes life is all about timing.
The dinner was fun with Commissioner Eric Heilmann presiding at the podium. The coaches were all introduced and after dinner we heard from all of the rookies, who each told us of how they ended up here. One rookie is a Cubs fan who came at the request of his friend. Another is a woman who attended Red Sox camp last year and now she is returning the gesture this year. One is going to turn, I believe 82 soon. And one is actually the father of former Met and camp coach Nelson Figueroa. It was so cool to see how "Figgy" was so proud of his dad being in camp. It was a sweet moment to see them standing together during the intros.
Tomorrow we have evaluations in the morning followed by the draft, the announcement of teams and then game number one of the week. I'm hoping to have fun, play well and stay out of the trainer's room. One of the beautiful things will be watching the rookies put on their uniforms for the very first time. I remember my first year, 2013, and the thrill of seeing myself in the mirrored door that you walk through as you enter the clubhouse. It was like shaving 40 years off my age. And some stubble on my face, for that matter.
The happy reunions will continue as I greet non-rookies, and along with it will be that moment when my brain cannot come up with the name of the guy in front of me. That's the moment when I fall back on generic terms like "bud", "pal", "bro", "kid", big-guy", "fella", "big pimpin'", "my man" and the ever-popular "dude".
See you tomorrow. Let's Go Mets!
Skol Mets !
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