Sadly, I'm Still Like This

After my post the other day talking about self control (and subsequently, my lack thereof) I started thinking about how long I've been and on-again, off-again (mostly on, I guess) jerk. Now, as I've probably mentioned, or many of you probably know, I played baseball back in HS in Pennsylvania. And, as you may be surprised to know, I sometimes got a little too fired up or a little too competitive. An example just for fun:

The summer after my junior year, I was playing in one of the summer leagues. It was more of a recreational league than a competitive league, mainly because I wanted to play with more of my friends, and because I played in the more competitive leagues in the fall and during the HS season. Of course, some of the other guys from the team and a lot of guys that I went to school with that couldn't make the team played in this league as well. And it was one of those volunteer leagues, so in a lot of cases the parents were the coaches.

During one game, we were playing against a team whose coach I didn't particularly care for. His son was on the HS team with me, but mostly rode the bench and bitched about never getting a chance to play. I don't think he realized that he never got to play because he wasn't really all that good.

Here's what happened: I was on second base with two outs. One of my teamates got a base hit that should have been a double. One problem. He was chubby. And slow. And too dumb to admit either of these things. Anyways, scoring from second on a double or a ball hit into a gap is a piece of cake. So I'm jogging home, and this genius decides he really wants that double, even though he was barely making the turn at first by the time the outfileder had picked up the ball. Mind you, I'm still jogging, and the kid gets nailed at second, for the third out. Now, I figure that I had scored easily, however the umpire diasagreed and waived the run off. I may or may not have argued with him, asking him when his appointment to be IN the Special Olympics was. Somehow THAT didn't get me ejected. I got warned and went upon my merry way.

This is the fun part. I was pitching that game.

So....I get my glove, head out to the mound, and start to warm up for the next inning. I hear the coach from the other team (who's a jackass) Yapping to his team in the dugout that "that's why you don't slack off out there and expect things to be handed to you, like Gordon (me) does." Really, I know this guy, does he think I'm not listening?

That was my "boiling point".

I stood on the mound, put my glove hand to my side, and flipped him off. Not for a second, not ten seconds. I stood there. And yelled "hustle for this, you jackass!" and just held it up there.

THAT got me ejected. The umpire tossed me, so I turned to him, held the finger up and said, "Well let's make it f'ing count then"

My mother was at this game. She could not have been more disappointed in me.

That's why I'm a jerk.