Since many of your kids are in the thick of this, we need to have a good conversation about it sooner rather than later. I'm talking about one of the most stressful aspects of going back to or starting high school. So let's all say it out loud once and for all -- #TRYOUTS.
Life is sports and sports is life. While most of us will never be competing under the bright lights of the biggest arenas, we have imaged ourselves...
Robinson lived in the East from 1947 until his death in 1972. Robinson found his greatest success in Brooklyn, but he could not have become the man he did if he had not grown up in Southern California.
Let's say your boss shows up and decides he's had enough of you. You're not helping the company anymore and you've become a distraction, so he offers you millions of dollars just to go away. Who wouldn't take that deal?
Being a Mets fan (and similarly loving them) means you know all too well that many times the story does not end the way you want. But it doesn't change your ability to believe in the happy ending, no matter how much you hide that belief.
For all they achieved in life, or did not achieve in life, the Cannon Street all-stars continue to wonder what would have happened if bigotry had not denied them the opportunity of playing in the Little League World Series.
We had all passed FBI background checks and were instructed to bring nothing into the prison with us, except our gloves, baseballs, batting helmets, four wood bats, water and our drivers licenses, which were shown repeatedly to the guards at the checkpoints leading in and out of the prison.
The acclaimed Canadian hip-hop artist, producer, and radio host is speaking to me via Skype about his new memoir Wicked and Weird: The Amazing Tales of Buck 65, unaware that he's just made the understatement of the century.
How many budding millionaires were thwarted when their parents threw out their old baseball cards? Nobody really knows -- but occasionally people unearth old baseball cards or other memorabilia from an attic or storage chest from bygone days.
"I love you." That's what Jesus says. So that's what I say. I see a homeless guy, and I love him. I'm going to help him if I can. That's being Jesus. The movement to love our neighbor as ourselves is stirring in this world. It is awesome to see.
We've been proud fans ever since. Thank you, Chicago White Sox, for 13 years and counting of great baseball and great family time. Z has grown up with the same admiration for the game -- and I hope, good memories -- that I have. In this world today, it's a beautiful thing to know that some things never change.
Numbers be damned, though. In one evening I was able to make a dozen new friends and entertain them, and was absolutely glowing inside. Write on, people.
If we follow the commandment to love the Lord our God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength by loving our neighbor as ourselves, then we will unify the church. We are one church. We are the body of Christ, and we have one calling. We are called to love.
Let's start with a little context. I have two boys. Both are in sports at a young age level (ten and six). My oldest competed in Tae Kwon Do tournaments in the past (won some trophies) and now is focused on basketball, soccer, and baseball. His choices, not ours, which is how it should be.
I recently spoke to Washington Nationals centerfielder Denard Span about his mission to uplift single parent families. His non-profit, The Denard Span Foundation was borne out of a desire to extend assistance proactively.
In my defense, we had 25 minutes to meet my husband and oldest son at his baseball game, which was only seven minutes away, when I passed my favorite yogurt store and made an impromptu decision - fantasized about for the entire day - to stop and get myself a cup.