Monday, September 5, 2011

It's Catch Up Time! Part 2

I dropped my husband off at the field that day around noon, and then made a trip to the grocery store. After eating dinner at the ballpark for two months straight, I decided it was officially time for a home cooked meal! (Even if it meant eating after ten o'clock at night.) I got the evening off work and figured I would go all out: baked chicken with a bread crumb layer, green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, and bread. Tyler and I were excited just thinking about it! I went to the game to watch the first few innings and then headed home to begin cooking. In my hopes of timing dinner to be ready just as Tyler was walking in the door, I had my laptop with me in the kitchen, the team website up and running, checking the box score every couple of minutes. All was going smoothly. I was just taking the chicken out of the oven when my phone began to ring. It was Tyler.

"Hey babe," he said in a monotone voice; I could tell something wasn't right, "I'm gonna need you to come get me."
"What? Why?" I asked, "You're supposed to ride home with the guys remember? I'm making our dinner tonight."
"I know," he reassured me, "But the guys are ready to go and well, I have to pack my bags."

When a player is packing his bags, it means one of six things: the team is going on a road trip, the player is injured and will be heading home or to rehab, the player is being released - aka fired, the player is being traded to a different team, the player is being sent down to a lower level, or the player is being promoted to a higher level. My heart sank for half a second, knowing that the reasoning behind Tyler packing his bags, had a five out of six chance of a potentially bad outcome. I took a deep breath.

"Okay," I said, swallowing hard, "Where are we headed?"
"Reading, Pennsylvania!!" he said excitedly, "We got the call to Double A!!" :)

After we got home from the field and ate our not-so-fresh, microwave-reheated dinner, we went into our room to figure out the next few days. I sat on the bed and watched powerlessly as Tyler packed his bags. You see, when a player gets moved, he has about a 10-15 hour window to gather his belongings and get on his flight. I think I'll call it the wife-prohibited flight. Ha! Not really of course, but trust me, no wife gets on that plane with her husband. Nope, we are left behind to do the dirty work.

The next day I took Tyler to the airport and headed back to the apartment. I had laundry to do, sheets to wash, dishes to clean, a bathroom to scrub, the carpet to vacuum... the list seemed endless. I wanted to leave the room spotless for the next guy that moved in. I also had to get our name off the lease, which ended up being a brief nightmare. Luckily, I managed to get us out of it with no problems. Once all of that was finished, I began packing everything up; that's when I became discouraged. We packed way too much stuff for me to handle by myself. I needed help! (Let me guess, you're thinking the guys that still lived there could help me right? Wrong. Not because they're jerks, but because their schedule never stops; they still had to be at the field all day, every day.) I took time out from what I was doing and began to pray. I prayed for energy, enthusiasm, courage, strength, serenity, and for a better ability to trust in God to direct my path through this. Within an hour, my phone rang.

"Hi Honey! How are you doing? I was thinking about you and how hard it must be to do this part on your own. Do you need help?" It was one of Clearwater's season ticket holders whom we had met and gotten very close with this year! I was so so unbelievably thankful to hear from her, but I stubbornly replied,
"Oh you are too sweet, but no, I'm doing okay. Thank you though." She didn't believe me one bit.
"How about you come over and I'll make us a late lunch? Then we can go back to your apartment, pack up your things, load up your car, and even make it out to the game tonight!" I let out a deep breath and felt every muscle in my body relax.
"That sounds wonderful actually," I replied.
Thank you God.

It was 5:00AM. The gas tank was full, and the car was packed to the roof. The trunk, floor, back seat, and front seat, had all downright vanished and were fully taken over by boxes, bags, and suitcases. Every single nook and cranny in our car was being used. I stood there staring, wondering how in the world we managed to fit all of this and more in our car, including my husband, on the way to spring training? I figured the answer must be that Tyler is just a heck of a lot better at packing the car than I am. Even the lady who came to help me pack the day before sent a huge package of our stuff home for us. It was just not going to fit. I closed the door, started the car, and reconnected with my sometimes best friend, other times biggest frustration of my life, GPS. It would be in my face for the next 1085.47 miles. "Please be good to me," I thought as I turned it on.

I did it in two days. Day one took me ten hours, day two took me eight. My stopping point was Raleigh, NC where I actually got to stay with my sister for a night. It was so good to see her and she really kept my spirits high. Day two came early the next morning and ended in Reading, PA that afternoon. I was sent instructions via text message of what to do when I got in, because of course, the guys would already be at the field. I pulled up to my new home - a hotel. I walked in, showed the front desk my ID, and was handed a room key. After I carefully managed to grab a couple things out of the car without an avalanche affect, I headed to our room. Two double beds and an obnoxious air conditioner. Oh joy.

I went to the game that night and was so relieved to see Tyler again. I felt protected, calm, and relaxed in him arms. My journey by myself was finally over. We headed back to the hotel and sat up discussing living situations. Usually, when a player is moved up in an organization, it's because someone was either moved up on the team above him, injured, traded, or released. For example: Say a player in the majors gets injured. He will be put on the disabled list and then the team might call up a player from Triple A for an extra body. Then, someone from Double A gets moved up to Triple A, someone from Single A gets moved up to AA, and so on. This makes finding a new place to live easy because the guys just end up where ever the last guy was living. For us, it didn't work that way; no one had moved. All that we had offered to us was a living room in an apartment with three other guys. I told Tyler that was fine with me; we had nowhere else to go and could literally not afford living in a hotel all month. He thought otherwise.
"We'll figure something out. We'll just stay here at the hotel for a few days," he said.

I felt like I should take matters into my own hands because Tyler still had to be at the field everyday. (Surely he had good intentions, but I figured he couldn't do much about it there.) I went to the stadium and talked to the front office staff. I asked them if they had host families or anyone that could take us in for a while until we had somewhere to go; I got a harsh reply, "No." Apparently in Double A we should be able to afford our own housing by ourselves. Um? Sorry we didn't get the memo, or the paycheck to prove that. I began searching Craigslist and found nothing. However I did come to the conclusion that their website is mostly scam artists these days. I talked to people at the field, the city's Chamber of Commerce and the city's Visitors Bureau... no luck with those either. Boy was I becoming discouraged again, but this time, I was ready to cry. What would anyone do in this situation? Call Mom. :)

Best. Idea. Ever.

My mom is the most amazing lady in the world! Her and my dad are such role models to Tyler and I in every way possible. She told me that I better get my butt to church. She's so smart. I got off the phone and Googled Catholic churches around town. There were many, but I decided on one. I pulled up and took a few deep breaths as I hesitated; I have never felt more vulnerable. I walked in and explained our situation. (Trust me, asking for help is a lot harder than it sounds.)

"My husband plays for the Reading Phillies. We just got into town this week and we are looking for a place to stay. I was hoping maybe a family in the church could take us in for a bit, at least until we find something else. We will pay them, help with utility bills, buy our own groceries, we just need a bed and bathroom really."

The people at the church were amazing! They made me feel so welcome and at home. I left my info with them and received a call right away. I knew after talking to this sweet, yet spunky, old lady that she was going to be our perfect match. (She's going to kill me for calling her an old lady though; 84 is still young.) We made arrangements to meet her at the church the next day, that way she could decide there if she wanted to invite us back to her house to live. Apparently, we passed her test and everything about our new living situation was wonderful!

So wonderful in fact, that it is now September 5th and we are still living here! We have absolutely loved every minute of it! Her and I have honestly become best of friends this summer. We laugh so hard together and it is one of the best feelings ever, just her and I laughing. I go to water aerobics with her and I've met all her old lady friends. We have gone to church together and I take her out to eat every so often. I have learned a lot about her life, as she has learned a lot about mine. She makes sure to tell me every now and then that she would never, ever want my life style. I reassure her that my life is fun, that I am young, and that it is worth it being here with Tyler during the season, rather than being apart. She sees how it is though, the behind the scenes life we live everyday. She knows that Tyler spends all day at the field and she knows all about eight-day road trips. She can't get over how much time I would normally spend alone if she weren't around. She's right, but I make the best of it. She also thinks my husband is soooo cute and that he is such a great man. She's right about that too. :) She goes with me to some of Tyler's games and is probably his biggest fan. I love to see her get so into the games, she loves it! Living here with her has been the greatest blessing. (Remember how I stated in Part 1 to stay tuned for Part 2?) This is it, she is our blessing! If we hadn't had started the season out in Clearwater, we would have never ran into this situation and we would have never met her! Everything happens for a reason, and God is so good!

Something else I want to mention...we don't pay a dime. It kills me. I try to give her money, I try to pay her utility bills, I buy things like toilet paper and laundry soap and I get scolded for it. She has really taken us in as if we were her own grandchildren. All she says she wants in return is for us to do the same thing for someone else when we are capable of doing it. I will never let that sentence die, and I cannot wait to pass on this blessing to someone else. She is truly an inspiration!



Friday, September 2, 2011

It's catch up time! Part 1

The season has practically come and gone, and let me be the one to tell you, it has never, ever flown by this fast! Only one more week left of regular season, unless we make play offs of course!! Let's play catch up...

I left off letting yall know our season would be starting out in Clearwater, Florida. A little disappointing at first, but Tyler and I kept ourselves positive and it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. (Stay tuned for Part 2)

Our living arrangements in Florida fell together very fast and consisted of the following: one apartment, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and six people - five of the players and myself. Not too crowded, right? Honestly, it wasn't at all and it led to some hilarious times! Two of the players each got their own bedrooms, while the other two slept out in the living room; one on a pull out couch, the other on an air mattress. Tyler and I got the master bedroom/bathroom. Since we had the extra space in our section of the apartment, we shared our closet and bathroom with one of the guys who slept out in the living room. He appreciated that a lot, but "since uh...you guys are married and all... " it also made him nervous. "Maybe you guys could put a sock on the doorknob as a signal, you know? That way I won't knock, I'll just know I can't brush my teeth at that moment." Oh gosh. It made me blush just enough, but mostly, it made us laugh. Thankfully, we never had to use a sock and we never ran into that kind of situation. (Insert sigh of relief here.)

Also while we were living in Clearwater, I got a job at the field. It was so great for me and such a blast! I scanned tickets, passed out programs, and helped with promotions, all while still being able to watch the games and see my husband pitch. (It also gave me the opportunity to go on the road trips, because when the team had away games, I had days off!) Tyler and I were both getting paid to be at the ballpark and nothing could top that. It was perfect... well close to it anyways. Word spread rather quickly about who I was, or should I say, who my husband was, and that was very new to me.

At the field, I like to be incognito. I'm way more relaxed and comfortable when no one knows who I am except for a select few, aka: the parking lot attendant, the person at the ticket window, the usher in my section, and maybe a couple season-ticket holders; all whom recognize me because I'm the girl that comes alone to a baseball game every single night. (I hope they realize I'm a wife and not just a poor, bored soul with no social life...or am I? ha!) Now just because I only like to be known by a select few doesn't mean I'm snobby. I actually love to smile at everyone and I say hi to most people I make eye contact with; what I love even more though, is knowing that all those people have no idea who I am. If, however, they find out "my secret" and approach me about it, I don't mind talking at all (for an inning or so), but I am not one to go around bragging because I do not want to bring any attention to myself at the stadium. Some might think I'm a bad wife when I say this, but I don't even cheer for my husband at the games. That's because one, I know how well he "clears the mechanism," so he won't hear my voice in a crowd anyways, and two, since I know he does that, it would only be bringing attention to myself by doing so. This, of course, is solely my opinion. I've met other girls who will yell and cheer on their "babe," or "baby," or "sweetie," or "sexy," or "insert pet name here." You get the point, it's very supportive, just not my style. Don't worry though, when we have kids of course I will let them cheer on their daddy. :) But until then, I sit rather quietly, rooting for Tyler in my head, listening to the fans around me, and clapping along with the rest of the crowd. I've become such a fan of the game by just sitting, watching, learning, and eating every night. :] Now back on topic...

I am fully aware that people are curious about our life behind the scenes; that's why I started this blog in the first place, hoping to fill people in on questions they might have, or circumstances they just don't understand. One thing that I'm learning quickly though, is how repetitive questions are becoming and how fast I have memorized my replies to every single one of them. Rarely do I get a new question, and if I do, pat yourself on the back because you have clearly just caught me off guard. Working at the field in Clearwater kept me busy answering the same questions over and over again. I absolutely loved working there and would do so again in a heartbeat, but you'd be surprised how many times I would overhear someone saying, "She's the player's wife," or asking around "Which one is the girl that's married to the player??" I really didn't mind it, but I was definitely not incognito anymore!

One time in Clearwater I remember being really caught of guard when Tyler was pitching and gave up a home run. A man came over to me and asked,
"Hey, isn't that your husband pitching?"
"Yes, it is." I replied, smiling with no teeth.
"I don't know why you're smiling after you just watched him give up a home run. He won't make it to Double A, let alone the majors giving up home runs in single A ball," he stated.
I thought quickly, smiled again and said, "Home runs are a part of baseball, even the best pitchers in the majors give them up."
The man looked at me stumped and walked away.
Idiot.


At first I was kind of taken back and got myself worked up about it in my head. Who did that guy think he was for searching me out and telling me that? If only I could find his wife and tell her that her husband is awful at his job and that he will never get promoted. I knew though that this was something I'd have to deal with in baseball. Once I told my husband about it, he had me laughing again. He brought back my confidence and helped me remember not to worry about what people say. That man's remark actually became our inside joke for a few days. We were out for dinner one night, and Tyler and I had both completely missed our mouths trying to eat. "Well," Ty said, "We're not going to make it to the majors eating like this!" We laughed so hard together. Little did that man know we would get the call to AA within two weeks of his conversation with me. It was June 1st...