Every day since the rookie was drafted has been a bizarre doubleheader. The day game is played on our home field, there are rules we understand, and--given a decent game plan and a solid execution--there is a player's chance we'll take home the win.
The night game is another story. We play on his field, by his rules, and our best chance is to have worn him out during game one. In other words, we either show up to the day game or we're getting swept.
Having strung together a couple of solid sweeps of our own, we've gotten enough swagger back to brag about our game plan to the media:
FIRST PERIOD (7 am)
The rookie goes audible with his opening play. We adjust in time, feed him before its all downhill wailing, and before he knows what hit him we've got him in a milk coma and a clean diaper. Score one for the veterans.
SECOND PERIOD (8:30 am)
Slick thinks we were born yesterday, (he was), and throws down a rookie move: He drives too early for the feeding. Sharon reads the milk fake, plays a disciplined wait game, puts up with a whole lot of trash talking (screaming really), and--in classic rope a dope--hits him with a knock out feeding right when he's started to slow down. Sorry son, better bring your A game.
THIRD PERIOD (11:30)
Ok, so he catches us sleeping (literally). We don't communicate, our match up zone breaks down, and before we know it the diaper count gets away from us. We take a 30, get back on the game plan, and come in ready for period four.
So forth and so on, until the night game started. By that point, we'd won most day periods, tied a couple, lost one maybe two, but came in ahead for the series. Five hours later we had the first nighttime five hours of sleep we'd gotten since opening day. He rallied a bit at 4am, but we blitzed, fed and changed him before he could get back in the game, and got three more sleep hours in return.
Three days in a row now: We're calling it a win streak.
Until the rookie gets cagey, or one of us goes on injured reserve.
The night game is another story. We play on his field, by his rules, and our best chance is to have worn him out during game one. In other words, we either show up to the day game or we're getting swept.
Having strung together a couple of solid sweeps of our own, we've gotten enough swagger back to brag about our game plan to the media:
Break the day game down into periods. Win enough of them and you're starting the night game one point ahead in the series.Here's a recent highlight reel:
FIRST PERIOD (7 am)
The rookie goes audible with his opening play. We adjust in time, feed him before its all downhill wailing, and before he knows what hit him we've got him in a milk coma and a clean diaper. Score one for the veterans.
SECOND PERIOD (8:30 am)
Slick thinks we were born yesterday, (he was), and throws down a rookie move: He drives too early for the feeding. Sharon reads the milk fake, plays a disciplined wait game, puts up with a whole lot of trash talking (screaming really), and--in classic rope a dope--hits him with a knock out feeding right when he's started to slow down. Sorry son, better bring your A game.
THIRD PERIOD (11:30)
Ok, so he catches us sleeping (literally). We don't communicate, our match up zone breaks down, and before we know it the diaper count gets away from us. We take a 30, get back on the game plan, and come in ready for period four.
So forth and so on, until the night game started. By that point, we'd won most day periods, tied a couple, lost one maybe two, but came in ahead for the series. Five hours later we had the first nighttime five hours of sleep we'd gotten since opening day. He rallied a bit at 4am, but we blitzed, fed and changed him before he could get back in the game, and got three more sleep hours in return.
Three days in a row now: We're calling it a win streak.
Until the rookie gets cagey, or one of us goes on injured reserve.
lol good use of description. Seems like a tough game with the rookie.
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