big leagues

so there i was trying to show my seven-year-old daughter how to throw a baseball for, like, the thousandth time. this has been going on for more than two years now. and this afternoon was no different. as i have done numerous times in the past, today i went over the mechanics of throwing a baseball with her again and again. where to position your feet. how to rotate your arm. when to release the ball. but once again, my efforts met with complete and utter failure. and so, once again, i became frustrated and dismayed. but when i told a certain someone later that afternoon about my ordeal, she replied with a rather interesting remark. "uh, maybe she doesn't like sports." (extended pause) what? my daughter doesn't like sports? how is that possible? she is, after all, at least partly the result of my genetic wonderland. and i love sports. all sports... except maybe soccer. i play sports. i watch sports. i coach sports. i live sports. i breathe sports. i die sports. when the montreal canadiens were winning stanley cup after stanley cup in the late 70's, i was there for the entire ride. it was lafleur and gainey and robinson and shutt and lemaire and dryden and me. and when the toronto blue jays were winning world series after world series in the early 90's, i was there for the entire ride, as well. it was alomar and carter and olerud and hentgen and borders and white and me. doesn't like sports? but sports are enjoyable. and exhilarating. and satisfying. and most importantly, i like sports. so how can she not like them? "well, do you like ballet?" not particularly. "because she does."

"tomorrow i'll be perfect" - anonymous

ok, but you still can't have the keys to the honda: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etundhQa724&feature=related