Sports

OK, time to get back to the sports theme I started the other week.
So, yesterday was the third Saturday in a row that no other teams have shown up to play volleyball--evidently they are all scared of us!
But, what is scary is that our team is getting smaller also.  The Saturday following our volleyball victory our four-man team was reduced to three--recall the injury to one of our players.  We were at least able to hit around a bit and practice.  The next Saturday only two of us showed up.  Yesterday, at the designated time and place, I was all by myself.  So, I start thinking maybe they are scared of me; I might need to get those Odor Eaters out after all--although I have been showering fairly regularly of late...
My thoughts then drifted to the various sporting activities available to the folks deployed over here...  these are those (somewhat random) thoughts...

• I saw a boxing ring in Baghdad, but I have never seen any actual boxing here in Iraq--besides a boxing class where full contact is not allowed.  I am not sure who thought that (a boxing ring) would be a good idea, but I am sure that we have enough ways for our troops to get hurt over here.


• We at Al Asad have a track and field--although the field is just dirt and rocks, no grass anywhere...  On this field I have seen soccer, football, and ultimate played; although the constant wind here makes the playing of ultimate (I think) untenable.


• Volleyball:  you know I have played volleyball over here, but it is a bit different than at home—you cannot dive because you are playing on some serious rocks and dirt.  And, when you hit the ball off of the court there is a good chance that it will land in some razor wire—this is problematic as far as the ball and the game are concerned….  When the ball gets stuck in the razor wire it goes without saying that it is problematic for the retriever…


• Tennis balls for sale in the exchange in Baghdad—no rackets or courts available, but someone might want to play stick ball or just practice juggling, maybe even use it as a foot massager…


• In Balad you could buy a racquetball racket, racquetball balls and a tennis racket and tennis balls—but, there were no courts of either type anywhere—what is the thought process that goes into that???  I wonder…  Maybe the rackets could be used in the boxing ring...?


• Swimming--many of the larger bases do have pools. I have gone swimming in Balad, Fallujah and Baghdad.  For some reason I have never made it to the pool here at Al Asad, even though I had my dear wife send my goggles (finally)--I will get there soon and let you know all about it...


• Running--I do a lot of this here at Al Asad (and some falling).  But, I also got in some nice runs while I was stuck in Baghdad--running around a picturesque lake next to an old palace--wild!


• I have worked up a sweat playing ping pong here--of course, it was pretty hot out...

Anyway, those were the thoughts I was having when my volleyball team mate finally showed up 15 minutes late.  Of course, it didn't matter because everyone else was still afraid to play!

Quick Birthday Follow Up

Just wanted to show you what can happen when you are deployed during your birthday and your family has a "special" sense of humor. They made this beautiful cake for me and then ate it... Check out the wonderful before and after pictures! At least there isn't a picture of them with chocolate all over their chins!

Happy Birthday Navy

Today is the Navy birthday--230 years old! There was a nice ceremony on base to celebrate, complete with readings of the Commandant of the Marine Corps and Chief of Naval Operations birthday messages, a Marine Brigadier General and his thought on the occasion, and an older Navy CAPT surgeon who started his military life as a Marine in Vietnam where he was inspired by the Navy Corpsman that served with him. Then there was cake...

Something about cake in the desert--it is always dry... Dry dessert in the desert...

Speaking of birthdays, I had one the other week and would like to take this moment to thank each and everyone of you that took the time to send and e-mail, a card, a present or even a thought--a big swooping thank you coming right at you!!

That day (my birthday day), was also the birthday of one of our other team members, so we had a wild party with dancing and... oh, no, we didn't do that... we had a sedate celebration where we BBQed a few steaks and had a couple of cakes though; and these weren't dry--very tasty, in fact. Somehow HMC ordered them over the internet--guess she still feels bad for throwing away my wash cloth. Or, maybe she just likes cake...

Anyway, I got all kinds of good stuff in the mail for my birthday. Interesting story how my Grandma got birthday-jacked so that I could get an awesome box of presents: for Grandma Rita's birthday party everyone brought a present for me (seeing as Grandma didn't need anything) and they put them in a box and mailed them out--very sweet. So, I guess she still had a birthday and a party, just no presents. So, that would be a present-jacking??

Anyway, I now have a sun visor with a built in fan, a paddle ball set and a beanbag filled with rice that I can use as a hot pad or a cold pack, two beanie babies (one Army and one Navy), a drink sleeve foamie thing in that is in the shape and color of a Hawaiian shirt, cookies, and one of those smelly cardboard Christmas trees that go in a car to make the port-o-sauna smell good... boy, am I lucky! I also got two books from Grandpa and Grandma--one about bad dogs and one about the origin of some of the words and phrases we commonly use... I got season 3 of The Man Show from Uncle Jack along with Jackass, The Movie... A sweet travel Scrabble game--the little tiles stick in the board--very cool, more books--including one entitled "On Bullshit" that is absolutely fascinating.

Anyway--thanks again everyone!!!

Fort-o-potty!!

A break from the sports theme to get us back to the main thing... the port-o-potty.

We have often thought that it would be nice if there was a bit of shade available for our port-o-potty; today we did something about it. HMC got to use an electric screw driver and a power saw; despite my instructions, she remained injury free...


The IH got to play with the power tools also, but just for a few minutes until we had to take them away from him as a safety measure. Although here is a nice picture of him "blending" into the cammoflauge netting--see if you can spot him...








Note the field expedient use of a HMMWV as a ladder. Previous to that we had used a vastly inferior ladder of inadequate height and I had been left hanging precarioulsy from the roof of the port-o-potty holding onto the drill with one hand and clinging to the vent with the other--not good. At least there aren't any pictures of that!!




Next is a picture of the team resposible for this abomination...









And, of course, the obvious result of making a fort decorated with cammo netting around a port-o-potty is a fort-o-potty.

Redemption

Some have pointed out that I fell, quite literally, into a jackass trap the other day (see previous post). Believe me, the irony had not escaped me! Others have pointed out that perhaps I should have made up a better story--you know, rocket fire and IDF causing me to dive for cover with the resultant wounds worthy of admiration; instead of the scorn and scoffing that the truth seems to have engendered...

Realizing I may have painted myself in rather too poor a light, I (with your kind permission.... thank you) will relate the story of how we dominated on the Al Asad volleyball courts last Saturday. And, during these games, how I did not get hurt or even fall down!

First, check out the picture of the championship team, the viscounts of volleyball, the barons of bumping, the sultans of setting, the... well, enough of that.
Next, check out a close up of the medal--note the bronzish coloring of the first place gold medal--doubters beware, this is the first place medal. It is just that the young lady in charge of running the tournament had no idea what she was doing at a volleyball tournament, no idea regarding the rules, and, evidently, how the various color medals match up with the final rankings.
In fact, when all the teams gathered together for the tournament the first thing she said was, "I don't know much about volleyball, but I asked a guy and he told me some of the rules: no ‘lifts’, you can only use your hands--no feet, and it is OK to hit the net when you are trying to hit the ball." So, the immortal words of Meatloaf say that two out of three aren't bad; I have to assume that one out of three is bad. Because only the first of those rules she laid down was correct. Eventually, order was restored and we played on using a unique set of rules that had some semblance to the actual volleyball rules.

Now, sadly, someone on our team did get hurt--but it wasn't me... And I didn't cause the injury... Just so we are clear on the whole clumsy and falling down thing...

The faster they run, the harder they fall...

Yesterday morning was glorious... Sun was shining, sky was clear, mild temperatures (relatively), slight cooling breeze--not that hot, nasty breeze that we had before. Heck, when I went to go out to our port-o-potty in the morning, the birds were even singing--it was like the opening to Cinderella (soon to come out on DVD)! In other words, it was perfect for a run. So, I went for a run.

It was, like the morning itself, glorious... right up until the end...

That is when I was feeling my best. The last 1/2 mile I had picked up the pace--stretching the old legs out, filling the lungs with warm and relatively dust-free air. Had my shirt off for maximum cooling. Had my cool shades on to guard against ricks, bugs and other flying debris, not to mention against the bright desert sun and the unsightly crows feet that come with too much squinting.

I am going along the long straight away that leads to the back of our building. This is where I have to turn a corner--not unduly sharp, not particularly hazardous on most days. But, there is a little trick: the side walk ends right after the corner and then there is a smallish run of concertina wire blocking the path... No problem, just take the corner a little wide, drop down the side walk into the street between the wire and the garbage can, and continue on my way. However, I was going fast and thought that I would pay extra attention to getting around the corner and by the razor wire, which is aptly named...

The problem with this is that there was a sizeable lamp post laying across the sidewalk at the beginning of the corner--how I misse dthat I will never know. But was I suprised when I found myself rolling and skidding along the sidewalk straight towards the razor wire! Well, the skidding stopped about 1 foot from the treacherous, flesh-ripping beast. However, I was on my back with my legs rather gracefully arranged (ikebana style) up in the air... So, while the rest of me stopped the legs just kept on trucking and came crashing down on top of the wire, which acted as a sort of spring and then shot my legs back out and over my body the other way. That was actually a relief as I have heard stories of Marines getting caught in the razor wire and not being able to get out on their own...

Did I mention the 10 Army folks that were waling on the opposite corner at the exact same time? How about the truck filled with people that was also coming around the corner? No? Well, they were there... I didn't stop--I used the momentum from the wire expelling my legs to stand up and start running again--really fast this time! The door to our building was only 20 meters away--the damage report could wait--I was on a mission: trying to maintain SOME cool points...

Alas, it was not to be. I ran up to the building and the door was locked!!! I was like the Miracle Whip commercial guy looking in the window, "Please, please, let me in!!" I ended up going around to the front of the building--not too far--and made it in the front door.

Damage report: skinned left knee, slightly skinned palms bilaterally, bruised ego, road rash on the left butt cheek and a left hip/butt that prevented me from sleeping on that side last night (and likely again tonight--that hurts!)...

Insult to injury: there was some kind of plant debris on the corner sidewalk (see the picture of the jackass trap below)--as I slid across the sidewalk (note the skid marks in the plant material), my sweaty back acted as some sort of super efficient burr/seed collector--I was covered, and my short were full of the stuff--I have know idea how that happened!