Mush

  My head is turning into mush. Maybe it’s because of the onset of Spring and the sudden blooming of every early flower and bud possible. Forsythia in full bloom before Passover and Easter--who knew?

Or perhaps its from the combination of two different kinds of doctor-ordered massages in four days. The first one was more a Swedish massage. But the second, a true medical massage, was a doozy. I am still trying to recover and drink my way out of it—water is the preferred beverage—but if there was something stronger which didn’t interact badly with my medications, I would surely imbibe. 

Maybe I am over exercising. At age 72 I am trying to keep my body lean to ward off getting old and fat. Walking, recumbent biking, legs days and two sessions of tortuous physical  therapy isn’t allowing my body to recover like it used to. Which leads to stiffness and soreness if I don’t stretch and hydrate enough—those massages are supposed to get rid of the kinks aren’t they? 

And please let me have a good night’s sleep. I can wake up groggy and I don’t have caffeine to jolt me from my morning stupor.

Possibly my uneasiness is also sports-related. Throughout Spring Training, I have been closely monitoring the Anthony Volpe situation on the Yankees. He’s the almost 22 year old phenom from nearby Watchung, NJ by way of Delbarton High School in Morris County. The former number one pick of the Yankees has skyrocketed through the minor leagues, earning an invitation to his first Spring with the big club. 

Volpe muscled his way into a competition with Isiah Kiner-Falefa, last year’s disappointment at shortstop, and Oswald Peraza, who came top late last year and performed like a veteran.   Not many people realistically thought that Volpe could win the job; he was too young, too inexperienced. Triple-A was his likely destination for 2023.

Except that no one told Volpe that. He absolutely shined in exhibition games, showing speed, pop with his bat and good defense. Volpe was going to make it hard for the Yankees brass.

Yankees fans were ecstatic. They knew what they were watching. While Peraza can play in the big leagues, Volpe generates star power. Not unlike another phenom who started at shortstop on Opening Day in Cleveland in 1996—Derek Jeter. 

Fans saw the potential. They wondered if the executive suite had the willingness to make the right call. To flush away what Volpe didn’t have in overall experiencer and instead look at what he was doing before their very eyes. 

I was in that group. I looked at sports news many times a day, waiting to see if the Yankees pulled the trigger. Finally, on Sunday, the decision was made. Anthony Volpe was going to be the starting shortstop for the New York Yankees. 

No one knows how he will handle the pressure. What Volpe has is the support of Aaron Judge, Anthony Rizzo, Giancarlo Stanton, Gerrit Cole and Nelson Cortes, the core of the Yankees team. He appears to be the real deal.

Remember, the fans are on his side—he’s one of us. When I was at the Franklin and Marshall-Montclair State doubleheader on Friday, I ran into a baseball alum who was visiting a Delbarton player on the F&M squad. Their last comments were about Volpe. This alum bet his son that Volpe would not make the team, yet he said he was rooting hard for the kid, who he said was “rock solid.” (For the record, F&M split with the #23 Red Hawks, winning the opener 12-2, losing the nightcap 8-2)

It is things like this which is why it weighed so heavily on me that the Yankees, a team which has not won the World Series since 2009, needs a jolt to put them over the top. Even with the early season injuries which have upset the pitching rotation and made the outfield rotation a bit messy, there is true optimism that this could be the year. Buoyed by Anthony Volpe. 

The NHL is winding down. The New Jersey Devils have been inconsistent in their play of late. On Saturday  night, the team came alive just enough to secure a playoff berth for the first time in ages. Now the work is ahead to keep ahead of the rival New York Rangers and to try to catch the Carolina Hurricanes to secure a better playoff seed. 

To that end, my son and I will be on the road again come April 1, resuming our quest to see the Devils in all of the Canadian cities. We will be in Winnipeg for a game on April 2. The temperatures this week will be below zero, but will moderate by time the game is set to be played. While it will be in the sixties here in New Jersey. We will feel much warmer when we return. 

So, too, is the NBA season reaching an end to its regular season. The Golden State Warriors are playing better ball of late in an effort to avoid the play-in round. Now that they are home, the late games on the West Coast do nothing to help my sleep habits. Including Sunday’s self-destructive loss to Minnesota.

What I think has contributed the most to my malaise is the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament. What has seemed like a constant barrage of tight games and upsets (nineteen according to one source) has controlled my brain. I had to get my normal functions in, cook and eat, watch Ted Lasso, the end to Your Honor and NCIS among other programs just to be ready for the plethora of games on TruTV, TBS, TNT and CBS. 

Then there was the byplay with my wife, who I defeated by two points in our annual March Madness pool, avenging my loss of last year. Imagine living with that tension for a whole year. I can identify with the Miami Hurricane players who burned about losing in the Elite Eight last year and waiting another year to advance to where they felt they belonged. 

My equally basketball-crazed college roommate and I kept up a constant barrage of texts from start to the end of Sunday. Because the level of play was that good. Thursday would seemingly morph into Friday that fast. Saturdays and Sundays were a blur. 

I am not going to recount the games. Just know that this Final Four will be like no other, as #4-5 and 9 seeds will be meeting in Houston. How they got got this point is as unforeseen as to who will win the title. 

UConn has championship pedigree from a long time ago. They demolished teams in their run to the West Region crown. San Diego State played like a big time program.  Miami was the best team out of the ACC and had desire and heart. Yet they might not be the best team from South Florida, as the final entry to the exclusive groups, the Florida Atlantic Owls from Boca Ration, has defied all odds to get to play another weekend. 

At least I will have some time to relax—as long as I don’t start watching the Women’s Tournament, or more NBA. I am certain I will be watching the Yankees home opener on Thursday. 

Sleep, hard enough as it is normally, is a precious commodity this time of year. Maybe I will get some in Canada. Even with an early enough return flight on April 3. Oh yeah, the Miami—UConn game is on at 7:40 PM CDT. My son went to UM Law School. Guess what I’ll be doing…

When will I stop seeing Charles Barkley commercials? Lily for AT&T? When will my brain be ready to calm down? It’s like the way things have gone for Warriors, Devils, the NCAA’s and the Yankees. So unpredictable.

Just don’t show me any oatmeal right now. I don’t think I could handle that kind of mush.