Competing computes......

Whether it's the Royals, the Chiefs, my alma mater(s), Survivor,  tossing quarters, tiddly winks, Monopoly, yada, I love me some competition. (Nope, the Bachelor and Bachelorette shows don't qualify here... I'd turn the channel to some Alaska show, mebbe Homestead Rescue, or even Naked and Afraid. Oops, sorry, kinda, but not really.)

Competition has bit me in the butt more than any skeeters, hound pooches, fleas, ticks, bosses, teachers, etc, etc.

My dander has admittedly dandered up a time or fitty in the past.  Coaching women's basketball at an away game at Baker University.  Every time, EVERY TIME (EVEN A TERM POLICY? No, that ain't it).. EVERY time we had a gal go to the free throw line in their old, decrepit gymnasium that had a stage on one end, I'll be durned if just as she got ready to release the ball toward the rim, someone would turn the stage light off.  Getting technical about it, I think I did. Get one. Or three, can't remember.  "Basta's" was my first thought.

You... you there reading.  I know we're all hella old, but think back for a sec.  From my cleats (Puma, opponents made funna me 'cause how old they were when I was 65 still playing slopitch), Chuck Taylors, whatever, the very best teammates I eva' had were the ones who HATED to lose, ie, competition. Dat true for you too?

The best?

They hate to lose.

Come and listen to a story about a man named................... Bob.  As in Gibson. Ya prolly heard this, and if ya have, I wouldn't blame you if you turned the channel to Naked and Afraid...or Homestead Rescue.. just don't watch the Bachelor, Bachelorette thing.

Gibby hated losing, ie, loved winning, COMPETITION.  In the final game of his career, up to the plate stepped one Pete LaCock.  Pete is the son of Hollywood Squares host Peter Marshall.  Now I loved me some Hollywood Squares, but, it wasn't really competitive - well, on second thought, Charly Weaver, Paul Lynde, Wally Cox, ole lonesome George did compete for laughs, but, you know what I mean.

Where was I?  Oh yeah, Gibby. Gibby in his final game.

Side note.  Gibby had a 1.12 ERA  one year, and if yain't a baseball fan, just know, THAT'S CRAZY good and there ain't been no one to come close to that since. SO (no, not a needle).. SO, competition, as in how the hell can we make it so pitchers of Gibby's ilk, won't dominate like that?  One, there ain't many, any pitchers like Bob Gibson, and two, they took action the next year and lowered the pitching mound. It's twue, it's twue, it's reawwy twue.

Back to his very last game. Up walks LaCock, bases loaded. Ole Red Schoendienst had southpaw John Curtis warming up in the bullpen.  Trying to see the view from Red's cleats, Chuck Taylors, yada, he was prolly thinking "If I go to the mound to pull him, I'd better take that cop that hangs out in the dugout to protect me, 'cause I think Gibby might kill me."

So, he left him in.  BOOM.  Grand Slam.  In Gibby's last game, Grand Slam.  (Remember the theme? Competition.)..  Gibby entices Don Kessinger into a groundout, the very last time Gibby would walk off a Major League mound.

Years.  Years go by. Meantime, I was a young, up and making money to put petrol in my car, so, I umpired.  One kid pitching, he was onea those competitors. After twenty or so gripes of not calling strikes on pitches he thought were strikes, he called 'Time Out", walked to home plate and cleaned the dirt off it with his glove, insinuating, "Yur friggin; blind Vic." Eh, whateva. I didn't toss the kid, I kinda actually admired his gumption. No surprise he would go on to get drafted by the Kansas City Royals.

Anudder time.  After a game where they were making fun of me in the Billy Barnes Sunday Night League for wearing my outdated Pumas in my role as backup catcher. After, we were having a beer.  Up walked a teammate, a young man' (Young to me, I was 65, he, 60 or so). "You were the very first umpire to kick me out of a game." I remembered it. This guy HATED losing.  Yum. Best kinda teammate eva'.

Side note.  What fun is life if their ain't side notes?  My favorite umping stories include fun.  I likes me some fun, kinda sorta secondly to competition.  9 & 10 year old league. First time kids ever face a real live pitcher.  Kid gets his on the hand.  Tears. Baby tears. Mom gasping in stands, kid collects himself, LIMPS to first base.

Back to Gibby, competition, his love therein for it. Fifteen years later, I ain't sure if Gibby was wearing Pumas, but, if he was, you can bet urass no one made fun of him if he did.  Old Timers Game. Bob Feller, he of Hall of Fame name, was on the mound, as one Pete LaCock comes up to the plate. Gibby springs up from his seat in the dugout, grabs his glove, walks to the mound, tells Feller "Nice job, seeya" and starts warming up.

First pitch to LaCock.  Mind you, this is fitteen years later, but, thoughts of that grand slam lingering in the competitive Mr. Gibby's brain all that time, Gibby nails him, hits LaCock on the very first pitch. Long memory, comptetition does that to one.  Gibby and LaCock would later go on to coach together for the St. Louis Cardinals. Neva' eva' spoke a word to each other.

I love feel good stories, like, when a walk on to a University works his/her booty off and is awarded a scholarship.  Competition. Pickup basketball as if it were March Madness. Horseshoes in the backyard. (The ONLY exception, is when you're playing a grandchild.  Suck it up buttercup and let 'em win).  But not by much!)

Norm.  Good ole Norm Stewart. Competitors.  You love 'em or you hate 'em.  There are so many Norm stories they wrote a book. A baby one, MU was at K State. K State built a 53-22 lead by halftime. Norm related a story from his childhood. Seems he was in a fight with his older brother.  The brother had him face down on the concrete, his knee firmly pressing Norm's back.. "CRY UNCLE! CRY UNCLE!" Norm wouldn't, didn't, would never cry uncle.......s'more.

Freshman guard Brian Grawer related "I was so fired up, I came out of the locker room and wanted to fight!"  Told the coach same.  "No. You (and there were two other team leaders beside Grawer on the bench).. you're going to sit your butt on the bench and watch the game with me and I hope it makes you sick. It's your job to never allow this to one of your teams again."

Lawrence, KS. A place that hatred for Norm. "SIT DOWN NORM" frequently was shouted from the Phog. Band camp, Stewart's Tigers were there early in his career.  An uphill battle set to take place against the much taller, future NBA players like Dave Robish.  Before the game, Norm had one of his players walk up to KU Coach Ted Owens and tell him to tell his team to move, MU wanted to warm up on that end.  Dander, Norm's competitive spirit was to get their dander up.  Did.

Once at halftime, MU trailed KU.  Reporter asked Norm what he planned to do in the second half to turn things around. "Well, we've got to work on our free throw." KU had shot many, MU had one, just one free throw, and missed it.  Sarcasm. Competition.

"If you're a true warrior, competition doesn't scare you. It makes you better."  Andrew Whitworth

Grit, tenacity, for the love of it, the will to win, the wanna-upchuck should defeat happen.  I loves folks who hate to lose.

If you ever happen to overnight in the town of Baldwin City, KS (home of Baker University), by all means stay at the Motel 6. At least they'll leave the light on for you.

Love, Victurd