Knuckleball

I used to play baseball. Some would say that I was pretty good in my day, but anyway… the one thing that would drive me nuts would be to face a knuckleball pitcher. He would lob those slow pitches over the plate and as a batter you would want to swing as hard as you could to hit it out the park. I mean really, if I could hit a fastball, slider, or curveball, I should be able to hit a slow pitch. I would have plenty of time to see it coming, prepare my swing and hit it out of the park. Especially since I knew it was coming. But what makes a knuckleball unique is its awkward movement. Sometimes the ball would move up, down, or to the side. So when you missed the pitch, you looked and felt stupid because, like I said, you knew it was coming.

Yesterday was like a knuckleball, and I missed it badly. I looked and felt stupid because, like I said, I knew it was coming. Every piece of advice from books to friends to co-workers told me about those emotional days. It comes in slow, but it has movement just like a knuckleball. Up, down, and to the side, the day’s events “knuckleball”-ed its way towards me. It began with taking club members to shop with the Cleveland Indians players…Knuckleball moves up. The event was scheduled from 11:00am – 1:00pm. We left Dicks Sporting Goods at 1:30pm…Knuckleball moves down. We had a representative from the USGA visit the Club. She was scheduled to arrive at 4:00pm, but arrived at the Club at 1:30pm and decided to wait…knuckleball moves to the side. So when we arrived at the Club at around 2:05pm, the rep wanted to discuss our Junior Golf program, talk to kids and take photos. And who gives the Oberlin instructions?...that’s right, me! The session ended at 2:38pm, and after a quick question and answer session, I was leaving the Club at 2:43pm…knuckleball moves down. I sped out the parking lot and headed home. Estimated time of arrival…3:03pm a mere 3 minutes late…knuckleball moves up. Then I hit Route 90 west and….stop. Was it an accident or construction? I didn’t know.

The phone rings and it’s Kandis.
Kandis - “Where are you?”
Me – “I’m on 90. I’m on my way”
Kandis – “You were supposed to be here at 3:00”
Me – “I know Kandis. I’m on my way”
Click…knuckleball moves down.

Now I’m stressing out. I’m stuck in traffic, I’m late for the doctor’s appointment and then…Stop again. What is going on. Slowly we move. I decided to take a few camera phone pictures to show Kandis what is happening. One lane and merging traffic…knuckleball moves to the side.

Then another call...
Kandis – “Katt, where are you?!”
Me – “I’m stuck in traffic. I’m not moving!”
Kandis – “Why didn’t you tell me that before?!”
Me - “Because when I said I was on 90 the first thing you yelled was that I was supposed to be home by 3:00 like I didn’t know that!”
Kandis – “I’m going to the doctor’s office myself!”
Click… knuckleball moves down.

No way would she leave me. No way.
I drive on the shoulder, head up the ramp, turn toward my house, hit the garage door opener… no car. NO CAR!!!

She left me…Swing and a miss!

I was furious!
I started talking to myself, “O.K. Katt calm down. You knew a knuckleball was coming. You missed the pitch and you look and feel stupid because you knew it was coming. You’re nervous and excited about the baby, you had a long day, just calm down.”

Then Kandis comes home and says, “Hello Katt” as she walks up the stairs…knuckleball two.
I’m really mad now. And there I stayed. Two knuckleballs, two misses, and a long post.

And to know after all of these years, I still have problems handling a knuckleball.