"Just take it slow, cause we got so far to go..." - Michael Jackson, Rock With You

Tuesday's CBC was rejuvenating... both for the team and myself.

Feeling weaken from my illness(es), I was only looking forward to getting through the night without fainting. Needless to say, I needed my teammates to rise up to the occasion more than ever. And it has been something that I have been preaching the last few weeks, especially to the Judgie.

This week, we faced Does It Matter? comprised of Albert "Slo-Mo," Robert "Boba" (man loves his tapioca drinks), and Ivan (no nickname, he just doesn't look very healthy even compared to sick ol' me).

Game 1 (Sucknutz)

Split and another split to open the game.

Puba: Damn it! Don't tell me it is going to be another one of those weeks.

Super is struggling as well. But Judge is showing signs of life. Good thing too, as it has been a while since the Judge was in overdrive. For the last three months, he's been on neutral.

Still, we get destroyed by 80+ pins as Boba and Slo-Mo go off!

Judgie: Come on T! We need you.
Puba:

Game 2 (Going Ballistic)

I knew the team needed me to step up to get out of our 2-2 funk each week. Feeling a little dehydrated, I purchased a LifeWater from the vending machine and proceeded to guzzle it down.

Yet, like everything in life, you can't run without walking first.

9 after 9 after 9 after 9 after 9. My blasted nemesis (the f'en 7 pin) stared me down, unfazed. So, frame after frame, the Puba unleashed his growing hatred in the form of fastballs at his target. At the end, I have to settle for a 179. Beats the 128 I shot in the 1st game.

The Judgie, however, is getting strikes any way and every way. His 218 game propels us to 65 pin victory. Overall deficit is down to 14 pins.

Game 3 (All cylinders kickin')

Momentum was on our side and we knew that we had to keep the pedal to the metal. Judgie starts off striking. The Puba settles for strikes and spares. The Super struggles out of the gate, but we're doing good.

Slo-Mo's game has deteriorated to nothing. Boba's magic came to a grinding halt. And well, poor Ivan just never got going.

To make matters worst, the Super finishes the 7th, 8th, and 9th with a turkey of his own. The Puba completes his comeback with a 194. And Judgie thunders for a 221 and his first 600-series in forever!

We destroy Does It Matter? by over 100 pins.

The 4 weeks of being 2-2 come to an end as we take 3 out of 4 games.

Wednesday - My busy furlough day

9 a.m. - open the door for the house appraiser. He likes what we did to the house.

10:00 a.m. - pick up my new weapon in the city. Brand new for half the cost. Can't beat that! I spend part of the morning joy-riding around the city and along the coast. The windows are down, the roof is open! Life is good!

12 p.m. - go to Fay Jai Wong's Kitchen with the Bush Baby for lunch. YUM!

3 p.m. - help my mother-in-law move into her remodeled home.

6:30 p.m. - dinner at Saha'ara in Burlingame. YUM!

The entire time, I keep looking at the sky and admiring how wonderful the weather and life is!

I haven't been this sick in quite a while.

Since March 15, I've been battling the flu. And to make matters worst, I have to endure a second bout. The first was viral, the second is bacterial.

Let me chronicle this last week, so that I will cherish all the days I do feel good from now on:

Sunday, March 15 - I can tell I'm coming down with something. Yet, there are things I have to do (like help my mother-in-law move). So, knowing that I will be incapacitated shortly, I make it a point to get as much moving done as possible.

Monday, March 16 - Completely zapped. I spend the day lying on the couch. Unable to go to work, I instead try to be productive by groaning and moaning about how sh*tty it is I feel.

Tuesday, March 17 - I still feel like crap. However, the sun is out. So, I attempt to do a half day at work, only to learn that work (even half a day) takes a lot out of poor ol' me.

Wednesday, March 18 - A sneeze fest. My inability to cease sneezing causes one of the managers to send me home. Only was able to complete 6 of my 8 hours.

Thursday, March 19 - I think I'm feeling better, but I notice my phlegm/mucus is reverting back to green. Not good, not good at all. As a precaution, I choose to sit out of my two games on Thursday.

Friday, March 20 - The body aches return. I'm using two chairs at work to make a office bench while using my parka as a blanket. Two extra strength Tylenols are not doing diddly to control my fever. I bite the bullet and go to the hospital. After some x-rays, it is determined that I don't have pneumonia (phew!), but my viral influenza (Sunday - Wednesday) made me so weak that I was infected by bacteria. Now I have bacterial influenza. Good news is, antibiotics will do the trick.

Saturday, March 21 - I go to softball practice and try my best to be the player I am. Unfortunately, I'm only operating at 60%. Still, it was a good 60%. That just goes to show how locked in I am right now! In the afternoon, had lunch with Da Cheeze's in San Mateo. Later, during the evening, I attend a fundraiser for my mother-in-law's rotary club. The fundraiser is at the Chinese Recreation Center. It's been ages since I've been there and brought back a lot of childhood memories of the neighborhood.

Sunday, March 22 - I go to Moonstar to attend my friend's baby's 1st birthday. No appetite which may be a good thing since I always tend to overeat at these events.

Monday, March 23 - The antibiotics are working, but I noticed the body has shrunk. No gymkata for 9 days will do that to ya. I feel weak and am a little worried. I have two games on Thursday, and my season opens on Friday with the Swing Kids. So, I begin a light workout at home in hopes to regain some of the lost strength.

Tuesday, March 24 - My hunt for an ASA bat may finally come to an end. My newest acquisition:

Now, I need to find a way to break it in (even a little) by Friday. Tonight, I will, once again, have to emerge as the Grand Puba. Even in the Puba's weaken state, he is still a force to be reckon with.

Boy, I have been following the latest season of the Bachelor religiously with the Bush Baby.

On last night's finale, Jason (the Bachelor), a divorced father with a son, picked between two girls at the final rose ceremony. Melissa, the Dallas sales rep and former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader was picked over Molly, a department store buyer.

During the finale, Jason brought each girl to get "interrogated" by his family. The family meeting made up 20+ minutes of the show, with most of the comments from his siblings being nothing more but stupid and irrelevant, "Well, she is more career driven..."

Uh, personally, if I love that girl and am expecting her to move to Seattle to live with me, a career is something that will have to take a backseat as she will most likely have to start over with job hunts/interviews. What does that have to do with me picking the love of my life.

Family meeting = waste of time. End result: Family looked stupid and Jason did not get anything out of that.

At the end, Jason picks and proposes to Melissa (my choice from the very beginning... when she walked out of the limo to greet him for the first time). Molly is sent home but not without letting loose on her competition, "You're making a big mistake. She's not right for you."

Personally, if I was Melissa, I would consider her comment extremely insulting.

The show ends with both of them celebrating with his kid. However, mere seconds barely pass when Chris Harrison, the host, announces the most dramatic and "intimate," After the Final Rose ceremony in the Bachelor's history.

Jason comes out, and immediately, you can tell from his visage that things are not well. He states that six weeks have passed since the Final Rose ceremony and that his relationship, and mind I say, his engagement with Melissa has fallen apart. He then tell Chris that he hasn't been able to stop thinking about Molly.

Melissa is brought out and the flame is ignited right away when Jason proceeds to dump her on national TV. Kudos goes out to Melissa as she mutters, "You're suck a bastard," and tells him that even though things have not worked out perfect, that she really wanted him to "fight for her." The entire time, she kept questioning what did she do wrong, only to get a lame answer from her former fiance.

After Melissa storms off the set into the limo waiting outside for her, Molly comes out and tells Chris that she still harbors feelings for Jason. Jason returns as well and tells her that he just dumped Melissa and that he wants a shot with Molly.

The look on Molly's face says it all as she looks at Chris with bewilderment and shock almost as if saying, "Can you f'en believe this?!" Yet, she ends up giving the low-life a chance and proceeds to do a makeout session.

The Bush Baby and I are completely shocked at what transpires and questions how:

a. This fool can propose to Melissa despite having strong feelings for another girl. (I use to not care for Brad Womack, the last bachelor before Jason, for not picking a girl at the end. However, now I regained some respect for the guy that he wasn't willing to compromise himself if he was not completely in love.)

b. This fool has the odacity to dump the ultimate, total package of a girl in Melissa in national TV and within minutes, ask her rival for a second chance and proceed to make out with her.

c. Molly would be willing to play second fiddle knowing that this fool just did what he did to Melissa and that it might not happen to her.

d. This fool is so emotionally weak. I told the Bush Baby that he was weak as f*ck, crying all the time like a little girl. Man up sucka! You got to pick between 25 women. I hate to see how this loser reacts in a car dealership. "Aw man, power seats, rain-sensor wipers, moon roof...(tears, sniffles...)

After the show and the announcement of a second "After the Final Rose" ceremony to take place tomorrow, I told the Bush Baby that I think there may be an announcement that perhaps Molly is pregnant and that was one of the major reasons why he broke it off with Melissa.

Needless to say, Melissa is way better off now. I'm sure there will be many suitors for this beautiful and awesome babe. Many of the girls voted for her off in the opener as they knew she was the main competition. As the season progressed, Melissa demonstrated she was a witty, funny, lovable, and extremely sweet girl. Combine that with her cute smile and beauty, one has to wonder why she claims to be dumped time and time again.

As for Molly, I, like the rest of America, only wish her the best as she obviously is dealing with an emotionally-challenged, wavering she-man that does not know what he wants.

This weekend, I did something I haven't done in a long time: watch two movies--one by myself!

On Friday, the Bush Baby and I watched Slumdog Millionaire. She's been pushing me to watch it with her for a while, and after raking in 8 oscars, she was apply even more pressure.

Despite being tired from two exciting games at the Creeks, one in which I almost single-handedly lost the game only to deliver the hit to win it back, I managed to get my sleepy body out to the theatre to see Slumdog.

While the story was outstanding, I failed to see what was spectacular about the cinematograhpy (awarded an oscar). The movie jumps back and forth from the present to the past, a common method used, most notably in movies like "Usual Suspects." Overall grade: A-/B+

Saturday was fun as I always enjoy hanging out with my little cousin, Alana.

Sunday started off with a long visit to the gym and lunch at Fat Wong's. Afterwards, I had a free afternoon to watch a second movie.

Street Fighter, as to be expected, was an atypical fighting movie. Anyone who expects more is a fool. While the story was rather underwhelming (girl seeks vengeance) and some of the acting was subpar (Chris Klein as Charlie Nash), I was pleasantly surprised by Kristen Kreuk's performance and the streets of Bangkok serving as the backdrop for most of the movie.

And while most of the main characters of the Street Fighter videogame were absent (Ryu, Ken, Guile, etc.), the ending suggests a possible sequel that should prove to have a better storyline (tournament) and more appealing characters. Since it was a fighting movie, obviously, the Bush Baby did not accompany me for this feature. Overall grade: C/C-

It's Wednesday... a furlough day might I add. Already, half the week has gone by.

Just last week, I had to deal with Super's rants about how he was being unfairly "cast off" after a week (it was actually 2 weeks) of poor performance. We finally ended our "discussion" with Super's 6 core beliefs. Beliefs that he read off the side of his Hitachi cup. Spare me the bullsh*t and the tears! We gots a league to win!

I started my softball season(s) at Twin Creeks. Initially recruited to play for one team, I was presented an invite to play for a second team on the same night. Since the drive is rather long to Sunnyvale, I didn't mind playing for two teams or essentially, spending my entire Thursday evening at the Creeks.

1st game

1st AB - WALK (never saw a strike)
2nd AB - Sharp line drive for a single past 1B (almost killed our runner) scoring 1.
3rd AB - Thought the pitch was illegal (low - 3ft) but had to swing when the ump didn't make a peep. Ground out to 1st.

1 for 2, RBI, BB

2nd game

1st AB - WALK (seems to start off that way)
2nd AB - Single to the right. Drove in a run. Scored.
3rd AB - Ground out to 2nd
4th AB - Single to the right. Drove in a run.
5th AB - Single to the right. Scored.

3 for 4, 2 RBIs, 2 Runs

Not bad for not playing for half a year. Afterwards, we hung out at the clubhouse for a little while and joked around. A fun night at the Creeks.

On Friday, our TV lamp went out. I called my cousin, Albert, to get me a replacement. Sadly, it is going to take a week for the lamp to ship FedEx ground from Ohio.

With the day just starting, I took up the task of driving my dad to the hospital to check on his toe. It's improving, but it worries me that it is taking so long. Also, he's lost a lot of weight the last few years. Maybe it's old age, maybe it's something else. I know death is inevitable in everyone's life, but seeing my dad lately reaffirms why I tackle everything I do in my life with such vigor and passion.

After the hospital visit and lunch at the Grove (in Fillmore), I headed to my mother-in-law's house to help her with the moving. Her house is near completion, and since I was available (my first furlough day), I offered my services.

However, doing my duties as a son yields rewards. Albert offers the Bush Baby and me box seats to the Celine Dion concert at the HP Pavilion. As it turns out, one of Albert's vendors has a luxury box at the Pavilion and gets to see any act that comes to town along with Shark games.

Although, I wasn't a super big fan of Celine Dion initially, I left openly admitting that she probably had the best and most powerful voice of our time. There weren't any unusual runs when she sang. She sounded like she does in her albums. Very impressive.

With the rain over the weekend, I spent most of my time at the gym. 3 hours on Saturday and about an hour and a half on Sunday. In between that, I did feel a desire to go bowl and work on helping to improve my teammates' games. Super was able to join me (which was good of him and proved to me that he wanted to improve and get better), Bush Baby, Da Cheeze, and Francis at the alley. We had a fun and friendly competition that ended with an awesome nightcap at Healthy Desserts. The conversation was humorous and reminded me of old times. A lot of fun indeed.

Monday was a back to work, with little to report except that it was difficult after a three-day weekend.

Tuesday was another day in the grinder except for the excitement that awaited me at the CBC at night.

Tied for 5th place with a 16-8 record, Team Sikness had an opportunity to get one step closer to do the amazing, to do the impossible, and win the second half.

We bowled against Ultimate Sound, headed by the "real" Humphrey, David, and Noe (guy has weird shoulders).

Needless to say, we were overmatched and were given 33 points in handicap. Before the bowling started, I asked the Judge why he didn't come out on Saturday.

J: I didn't feel like it!
T (thinking): That is why you suck in the past, why you suck now, and why you will always suck, you ignorant, lazy f'er!

Game 1 (FOCUS!)

Off the bat, Noe was striking like mad. David was leaving single pins up and had to settle for spares. Humphrey, who smelled god-awful (stank as f*ck), flirted with mediocrity and superstardom.

The Puba, on the other hand, flirted with disaster as the ACID flipped so violently and early that splits were left. It didn't help matters that the Puba was spending a lot of time analyzing another sh*tty performance from the Super. At the end, the Puba had to settle for a 153 game, his lowest game in a month. Super shot a 119 as he continues to struggle to apply the instructions I am telling him. Judge, was the glimmer of hope, although he was unable to take over the game as he spared and striked his way to a 195.

We lose 537 - 500.

T: F*ck! I need to stop focusing on this guy (Super)!
J: Yeah, he can't be help! Just focus on yourself, T!
T:

Game 2 (Banana SPLIT anyone!?)

If game 1 was bad, game 2 was worst. At one point in the game, we had 7 splits in 9 frames! Unf*ckenbelievable!

Francis, who came to watch the (our) destruction, was around to take photos with his fancy camera. Knowing the ACID was not the ball for tonight, I had to unleash the ANGER.

Unfortunately, the ANGER's thumb hole was tight. After a few throws that resembled more like lobs, I knew the whole needed to be opened up quickly. It was in the 4th frame that I walked over to the stands and handed the ANGER to Francis and told him to "get it opened up!"

Francis quickly ran to the pro shop to get it done, all the while, we were getting pummeled. After Francis returned, half the game was in the books, but the hole still needed work. I sent him back, and he returned yet again. The 7 for 9 split action that I mentioned above had just occurred and I was furious!

The pro shop guy even came to see if there was anything else that he could do. But by that time, it was too late. The Puba suffered a 150 game. Super managed a late rally for a 152. And the Judge was losing steam quickly as he only manufactured a 177.

We lose 565 - 512.

T (to S & J): We need to salvage this next game. I don't just want to win it! I want to win the overall as well! We need to beat these f'ers by a hundred pins!
S & J:

Game 3 (Deserving loss)

The ANGER felt good, and it showed, as the Puba powered for a 195. Unfortunately, Super's string of decent bowling was shorter than an episode of shooting stars, as he laid a 124 goose-egg. But fear not, the Judgie was to be my partner in crime. His bowling has been on the decline as of late as he has been relishing on my laurels, but to the Judge, he never sees it that way cause it doesn't even come to mind. Typical of a person whose mind stays on neutral when everyone else is in 7th gear.

2 opens, 2 strikes, 2 opens...

T: If you're going to give me this sh*t, then strike the mutha f'er out!

Final tally: 2 opens, 2 strikes, 2 opens, 2 strikes, 2 opens

As always, the Judge is a model of consistency.

After stringing two strikes, he would follow with a split of all things...

T (to Francis): Always, when I need his f'en ass most. He fails me. Time and time again!
Francis:

At that moment, I had a really nasty feeling that was overbearing... if I heard that mutha f'er said he "didn't feel like it" one more time, I was going to go ballistic on him.

On a night when I needed these two boys to carry me, they came off limp.

T: You know why I'm hard on you?!
S:
T: Because I know I can't count on his ass (point to Judge). He doesn't come to practice because he "didn't feel like it." Well, f*ck him! The next time he needs anything from me, I know my f'en response.
S: Yeah... I know...
T: F'en worthless!

And just like that, we're now 16-12.

At the end of the night, I was still fuming. The Bush Baby thought it was a good idea that we went to get a ice cream cone and hot fudge sundae at McDonald's.

A: You know what? It could be because Frank is there that Super is not doing well.
T: Nah, if that is the case, then he is truly weak! He's trying to learn how to bowl correctly. I'm okay with that. He's not happy with just a 145 avg. He wants to be in the next level.
A: Or it can be you. Both of them can't deal with bowling with you.
T: That very well might be true.

Sure, I'll take the blame for the both of them sucking ass. I'm just the one organizing practices and giving input/analysis/advice. Why do I bother?!

I know I'm moulding the Super and it very well might be that we sacrifice this season to get him to bowl at a higher level. But the lazy f*ck (Judge) has no excuses. I'm sorry, he has one... "He didn't feel like it..."

Spoken like a bonafide, lazy, f'en loser that he is...

On a side note and to end with something posititve, a new goal for my next furlough day... I'm going to bike from my house to work and back just to see if I can do it.

Today at work, someone mentioned something that made me reminisce about the days I would hit the clubs with my friends. Why and for what you may ask since:

a. I don't drink. I might weigh about a buck seventy five back then, but I might as well be chump change when it came to guzzling anything alchoholic.

b. I wasn't there to pick up any girls. Sure, I looked and admired a few girls here and there, but I knew finding anything substantial in a club was slim to none. I still don't to this day. I welcome anyone who thinks otherwise to prove me wrong.

c. I can't dance for sh*t. Still can't.

There's a plethora of other reasons why clubbin' wasn't my thing. But looking back, as I spent most of the time yelling at a girl or my friends with all the loud music making it near impossible to strike up a conversation, there was always a part of me that wondered what would happen if I:

a. Went to the bar and ordered a Capri-Sun or milk.

b. Told a girl that my name is Tommy, but "you can call me Daddy."

c. "Boob-graced" every girl within a 50-foot perimeter.

I was definitely not a "clubbah."