Wouldn’t it be something if that did happen?

One of my plans in the coming weeks is to attend the game between the Tigers and Middle Tennessee at the FedEx Forum and write about my observations from the game in this blog.

Okay, a game between the Tigers and the Blue Raiders is not something that you would want to drop everything and go see, but if you were me, you would probably understand.

I brought up the recent sightings of the Mr. Goodbar candy wrappers in the neighborhood that I live in to a lady at my job a few weeks ago and wondered why would I continue to make note of the numerous Mr. Goodbar candy wrapper sightings every time I see one.

As I think about it, the lady I told this to was the same one who I told the story of the chocolate cutie coming up into the broadcast booth on July 4th, one of the cutest moments in the history of Memphis professional baseball.

“Did you ever get her number?” she asked me.

“No,” I replied, “The last time I talked to her, she was talking to somebody else.”

That was in August, a week before I found out that she did at some point had a crush on me, which was told to me on the final “Two Girls and a Doc Show” on August 27th.

And the same day in which Michelle said to me, “You two will probably be the hottest couple of 2007.”

Back to the story, the lady at my job told me that I should go to a Tigers basketball game and try to find her

Wait a minute, go to a game because of some girl?

I mean, how ludicrous is that?

During the summer, it was fine when it was 12,000 fans or so in a ballpark and all of us in the Ballpark Gang was sweating our asses off.

But four months later, trying again to get a girl that I supposedly liked a whole lot’s number, possibly two days before Christmas, in a building that will have more blue-clad Tiger fans other than me watching the Tigers notch another victory over some poor and wretched team from the backroads of Middle Tennessee, would be something that would defeat my purpose of writing about a basketball game.

The last time I tried something like that, it ended up being one of the reasons why I can’t stand some of the people in the church that I attend now, though I won’t go into detail of what happened.

But given what has happened so much during the course of the this year, maybe the entire readership of this column want to see one more rendezvous between a writer and a chocolate cutie before the year is out.

Just maybe.

I don’t know.

Mr. Buck, please forgive Angie

In looking back at 2006 and the year it was, today’s early post will look back at number 68 on the countdown of the 100 things, people, sayings, moments, and trends that made 2006 a year to remember.

In Cardinal Nation, one thing is a very known fact.

The women of the Nation are 80% versed on the basics of St. Louis Cardinals history.

They know that Harry Caray was once announcer for the Cardinals from the mid-1940’s to 1969, fifteen years before I was born.

They know who Jack Buck is, who Ozzie Smith is, what “Whiteyball” means, the reason why Willie McGhee’s number should be retired, and most importantly, who Jack Buck is.

Emphasis on that final point.

Before the season started, I ended up purchasing a book in the Backstop Baseball Emporium aptly called Remembering Jack Buck, which was a collection of stories about Mr. Buck and his career.

Given the fact that I normally got bored after doing everything that I had to do at my job, I figured three weeks after buying the book, I would pack the book in my backpack as I went to my classes for the day and read it during my down time at school or even at work.

One of those days that I brought the book with me to school to read was when I tried to explain to Angie who Joe Buck was.

“He’s Jack Buck’s son,” I said to her as I handed her the book.

Now mind you, the book on Jack Buck had some wonderful pictures of Jack Buck and his family and knowing that Angie was an Early Childhood Development major, I figured she would be able to identify who Joe Buck was.

“He was married twice,” I said to her, “He had six children from his first marriage and two from his second marriage.”

She looked at a picture that was taken in 1966 with Mr. Buck and his children and tried to point out which one was Joe.

“Joe wasn’t born until 1969,” I said, “You’ll have to look for a much current picture of Mr. Buck and his family.”

We turned to a picture that was taken three years before his death at his 75th birthday party with all of his children (including Joe).

“That’s Joe,” she said pointing to a guy that was third in the row below the one with Joe Buck.

“No it’s not,” I said to Angela as I tried desparately to explain who Joe Buck was.

“Okay, these were from his first marriage,” she said as she pointed to several of Jack Buck’s children.

She got to Joe and said to me, “First marriage.”

“No,” I said, “Second marriage. He was born in 1969.”

After five minutes of irrevelant arguing, I figured that God could forgive Angela for not getting the children of Jack Buck correct.

I kinda figured Jack Buck saying to God, “Father forgive her, for she’s not a Cardinals fan like this young man is.”

And God said, “I will by sending her a Scott Rolen jersey.”

The dawn of the age of Aquarius at Autozone Park

This post is in a series of flashbacks of the year that it was in 2006. The posts will run until Dec. 28th in this blog.

During the first day of the Kids’ Camp at Autozone Park, I was eating lunch with Steve the Fantasy Baseball Guru, Kelly, Michelle (not the one I went to school with), the “legendary prankster” Brian Esposito, and “Principal Tankersly” when the conversation turned into a discussion on Zodiac signs.

Given the fact that sometime during the broadcasts that I did on Fan Radio, I always managed to bring up the Zodiac signs of certain players because on the rosters that they give us in the broadcast booth, they have the players’ birthdays.

So knowing people’s Zodiac signs was just something that was ingrained in me from the time when my mother explained to me Zodiac signs when I was in sixth grade.

Back to the story, Dennis Tankersly said to us that he was a Pisces, which happens to be the same Zodiac sign of John Nelson and the legendary prankster Brian Esposito, who actually shared a birthday with him.

When it was my turn to share my Zodiac sign, I said that I was a Scorpio and shared m birthday with Pedro Martinez and the guy who hit that home run in 1951, Bobby Thomson.

It was also the same Zodiac sign of Kelly, whose birthday was a week after mine.

By the time it was Michelle’s turn, it was two Scorpians and two Pisceseans (not sure if I spelled that right or now) sitting at the table.

“I’m a Libra,” she said as we all chewed on our respective hamburgers.

The last person to share their Zodiac sign was the wise Fantasy Baseball Guru himself.

Now remember, this was a guy that would always say he was just smart whenever one of us would ask him a question on certain things.

This time, his response to the Zodiac conversation shook the world.

“I don’t even know my Zodiac sign,” he said.

After savoring the last few bites of my cheeseburger, I asked him his birthday.

“Feb. 16th,” he said.

“You’re an Aquarius,” I said to him, “You’re three days shy of being a Pisces, which begins on Feb. 19th.”

A month later, I asked the chocolate cutie what was her Zodiac sign, which was something that was egged on by my big sister.

From my own actions around her, it seemed to me that she shared the same Zodiac sign as the city’s fine version of Marcie, who was a Pisces.

My theory was that many Pisces girls that I talk to, I end up losing lots and lots of concentration.

When I guessed her Zodiac sign during one of the first conversation that I had with my big sister, she had this to say to me.

“LeToya Luckett is a Pisces.”

So is Will Clark and Harry Caray.

Not to mention Juan Encarncion and former Detroit Tigers outfielder Skeeter Barnes.

When I brought up the Zodiac thing to her after we got in a picture together, I asked her what was her Zodiac sign.

“Aquarius,” she replied, “My birthday’s Feb. 9th.”

When I found out, I had to think about my ex, who was also an Aquarius and I couldn’t see eye to eye with.

Mainly because she rushed into what she thought was going to be a long-standing relationship.

Without getting to know me.

I went into the store and told the wise Fantasy Baseball Guru about what had happened when I asked the chocolate cutie about the Zodiac sign.

“She’s an Aquarius,” I told him, “Just like you.”

And probably for the first time in the history of mankind, the wise Fantasy Baseball Guru actually admitted to not being smart about Zodiac signs.

In a circular way.

The cute snuggie wuggie cuggie

In looking back at 2006, today’s midday post will look back at number 70 on the countdown of the things, people, places, and sayings that made 2006 a year to remember.

Kids, long before Myspace became all the rage, there was a little social networking website that was called BlackPlanet.

Every single person on your street had a BlackPlanet page, whether it was your neighborhood candy lady or the neighborhood bully that rode around in a bike that was similar to the one Deebo rode in the classic Next Friday, BlackPlanet.com was the site you had to be on.

A year ago, a few days prior to Thanksgiving, I ended up adding a very cute girl to my then-neverending list of female friends on my Messenger list who lived in western Tennessee.

We talked off and on as friends for much of the holiday season, which was right around the same time that I was talking to someone at school that I met in the campus bookstore earlier in the semester.

With most of my female friends, the ones that I refer to in my column, almost half of them have nicknames that I give them in order to avoid putting people on blast in my column, which from the looks of things hasn’t brought up any problems among my friends.

It was during one of those talks we had on instant messenger that I ended up calling my friend “snuggie wuggie”, which was just something that I made up in a New York minute.

And of course, I had her blushing when she heard me say that.

As the spring came in, I spent less time on BlackPlanet.com because Myspace was now becoming the rage among my friends.

I had started a Myspace page a year ago, but never went to the page because I was too busy bonig up my friends list on Black Planet, of which their were many.

So by May, I ended up finding out that the “snuggie wuggie” was on Myspace and a few weeks later, she posted a bullentin about what her friends (including myself) thought of her introductory picture.

One of the lines in the message said leave a dirty message, which I couldn’t think of at the present moment because I was at work.

I said on one of her pictures, “I think you’re sexy as hell, that’s as dirty as I will get because I’m at work.”

When I returned home from the office, I got a reply from her that said, “Awwwww, aren’t you the sweetest thing.”

Paging Dr. Joye

In looking back at 2006, this afternoon’s post will look back at number 71 on the countdown of the 100 things, people, places, things, and unique sayings that made 2006 a year to remember.

A frequently forgotten fact about what transpired during the summer is what had happened almost two months before the season began.

I was very interested (to say the least) in a girl that I met two days after Hurricane Katrina hit the city of New Orleans in the campus bookstore at school and from the looks of things, everything seemed to be going well.

That is, until two weeks before her birthday, I ended up having some concerns about the status of what was going on between us, which was nothing more as I look back on it, a causal friendship.

Towards the end of January, I started explaining what was going on between me and the girl from the campus bookstore to a friend of a friend on Yahoo.

The tricky part was that I ended up trying to help her get hooked up with a friend of mine from my Whitehaven days, who similar to what would happen this summer with me, met her during the summer session at school.

And she ended up trying to convince me that I was at the time, sprung on the girl from the campus bookstore, which seemed to be very true at the beginning part of the year.

Her theory was that I always seemed to talk about her, had no other options, and I wanted to tell the world that I liked her excluding her.

Which was true.

When the game between Da Crew and the Bible Boys seemed to be a go, I explained to her that she could learn how to play basketball by coming to the Chris Walker Court at Gaston Park to see the greatest streetball game ever played in this city.

As the month of Feburary rolled around, it was apparent that the sprungness theory of Dr. Joye seemed to be very true to me as for the first time, I asked the girl from the campus bookstore out on a date for Valentine’s.

Dr. Joye’s response?

“Sprung.”

Or in this case, sprung times infinity on a sundae with even more sprung sprinkles.

Sounds delicious.

The last time that I actually paged Dr. Joye was when I added her to my endless number of friends on Myspace during the middle part of May.

By that time, her and my friend broke up over something that was really stupid and the sprungness theory that she had in Febuary seemed to be a complete hoax.

When I told her what happened with the girl from the bookstore, she asked me why didn’t the two of us hook up.

Which was something that I tried to figure what went wrong when the choke-job was finally complete.

Not that Miss Candy

I had no plans of writing an early afternoon post (because I had already written my morning post on my other blog) but I had to say something about this.

On Wednesday, my sister explained to me that I should try to find the chocolate cutie and try to get her number again, which is something that I haven’t given any thought about since the last time I saw her, which was in August.

So on a hunch, I typed in the nickname that I’ve always referred to her as while I was on Myspace on Wednesday afternoon and tried to see what I came up with.

10 results.

The one that stuck out was a girl that lived in Atlanta and was only a year older than me.

And she was single and very attractive if I might add.

So figuring that she wasn’t about to add me to her friends list and add another notch in my belt as I eclisped 500 friends on Thanksgiving, one month to the day that I topped 400 friends, I gave no thought of her being part of my friends list.

This morning when I checked Myspace, it showed that I had 507 friends because of three more that were added to my friends list.

So I checked to see which people responded to my friend request.

One of Lil Boo’s friends added me last night, which would be another friend from Adrice’s friend tree through the countless degrees of separation.

Then I had to check and see which person became friend number 507.

And given the fact that I tend to overlook things on Myspace, I tried to figure out who would add me to their friend list.

As I got to page 10 of my friends list, I scrolled down to see who friend number 507 was.

Miss Candy.

No, not the chocolate cutie (not quite sure if she’s on Myspace or not).

But an equally cute girl from Atlanta, who happens to be a Virgo and single.

Which equals a very good combination, if you know what I mean.

I called my sister right after the discovery and left a message saying that a girl (not the chocolate cutie) who shares the same nickname as the chocolate cutie added me to her friends list, which seemed to be a surprise to me.

But there’s a possiblity that the adding of the Georgia Miss Candy could actually mean something in the long term.

Uh………

Don’t even think about it.

Blogs were very interesting at times this year

In looking back at 2006, this afternoon’s post will look back at number 74 on the countdown of the 100 things that made this year a year to remember.

I began to keep a blog of everything that I did during the tail end of last summer when I felt that I had way too many stories to tell in my own words.

The blog that I once owned on Blogger, was a minor hit with people at Southwest, where I was a student for the beginning part of the year, mainly because I kept the students abreast on things that were happening around the campus at the corner of Manassas and Union.

Which was mainly drama from within the confines of Da Crew.

At the beginning of June, I began a new blog that I only updated in the afternoon on WordPress.com, which is why the URL is theafternoonsnooze.wordpress.con, a URL that sadly, I can’t change.

Aside from my blog, a few of my friends began to keep blogs as well, though they were not as widely read as my blog.

For a time, a couple of my friends, Robert and Joye, who were dating during the first part of March, wrote about their feelings in their respective blogs, which was pretty much a way to keep their thoughts on their courtship and share it with the world.

Not only that, Joye kept one on Myspace, which is linked from the blog you are read, and is very interesting if I might add.

My friend Tracy, given the fact that she read the morning blog religiously (as well as her cousin), began to keep one on Myspace about how she felt each day, which I don’t too much read because I’ve only been on her page a few times.

In the Galloway Gang, Jason wrote about one of the guys that used to help out on Saturdays who was in Palestine and kept us updated on his condition (keep him in your prayers) and discussed George Orwell’s 1984 as well as shows that he was attending around Memphis.

Meredith’s blog covered things about her soccer team’s season over at Houston High, dumb ideas, and just some random thoughts to her own life.

As for Jeff, he shared with us on how to get kicked out of Kroger at 2:00 a.m., emo music (which I’m a fan of), and things that will make you wonder why I named him one of my “pastors” at the former Myspace church that I owned.

Of course, the blog that you are reading now went from 200 hits in August, which was the total for the month, to over 4,000 hits going into December.

And it’s because of the columns that I have written, that the blog has been a success.

But more importantly, it’s the readers that make this blog a success.

Hope sprang courtship madness

In looking back at 2006, this evening’s post will look back at number 76 on the countdown at the events, things, people, places, and sayings that made 2006 a year to remember.

When the 2006 NCAA Tournament tipped off, it began the madness that we call March Madness.

And in Memphis, the only madness that surronded my friends was the madness that surronded their various courtships.

With me, it was still that cute girl from the campus bookstore that I met when the fall semester began two days after Hurricane Katrina and the winding down of what was supposed to be one of the biggest stories of the year as far as I was concerned.

Further south in Whitehaven, my friends Dr. Joye and Robert began talking to each other and dating, something that Robert waxed poetically about in his blog throughout the middle part of March, which seemed to be going well.

One of my friends in the church that I attend was also talking to someone that he met in Indianapolis during the New Year’s and unlike the two courtships, he managed to do something that neither myself or Robert could do.

Sustain a healthy courtship.

As the Tigers were making a run for the Final Four, my friend ended up going to Cleveland for his very first date with his friend and to be honest, it was a huge success.

He mentioned to me during some of the conversations the details and how his lady friend treated him almost like a king (well, almost) and the trips to the Cavaliers game, the museum in downtown Cleveland, and her son.

Of course, I like most of the people in the singles minstry was happy that he finally went through with the date.

It’s just a matter of whether the girl is the one for him.

Which is all put in God’s hands.

The day when sparks began to fly

In looking back at 2006, this afternoon’s post will look back at number 77 on the countdown of the 100 things, people, sayings, trends, and events that shaped this year.

 In one of the first emails that my big sister sent me four days after the start of one of the cutest summer stories in the history of Memphis professional baseball, she explained to me that the type of love that somewhat began to blossom on May 21st when the Redbirds faced Portland was the type of love that was only seen in movies.

Couldn’t agree more, if you ask me.

The day that began one of the cutest backstories in the history of Memphis professional baseball, was only a day removed from when I called my first walk-off home run when Timo Perez hit a smash into the rightfield bleachers to beat the Portland Beavers.

And only two days removed from when the Redbirds got their tails kicked six ways to Sunday.

Everything that I did prior to crossing paths with Michelle, Sharika, and the chocolate cutie seemed to be missing from my rapid-sharp memory.

The only exception was that I had bought a huge tub of popcorn to snack on before I went to the broadcast booth.

Knowing that before I did a broadcast, I always made it a point to stop by and talk to Sharika and Michelle for a brief spell before I went upstairs.

Little did I know that one of those times would change my entire summer and maybe my entire life.

After I bought the tub of popcorn, I walked over to a girl that was around the three and introduced myself as the guy that did Fan Radio.

A few minutes passed and I walked up to Michelle and given the fact that I can be very nervous at times around girls that I considered to be out my league, I did the next best thing.

Introduce myself.

And the same as last year when I did the game against Nashville, she said to me, “We know who you are.”

Same answer that Sharika gave me when I did the whole introducing thing.

Realizing that I saw the chocolate cutie who was looking out at the action on the field, I had to think fast of something to say.

“Y’all wanna take a picture together?” I asked the four as I wiped my forehead, which they obliged.

I walked over to the guy who was over the entertainment at the ballpark and showed him how to work the camera and what to do in order to view the subject that he is capturing.

When I showed him that, I heard the chocolae cutie say, “We’re waiting on him to get in the picture.”

And given the fact that I was on my way to the broadcast booth, I felt that I was not really trying to focus on getting in a picture.

But I went on and did anyway.

For some reason, prior to the picture being taken, the chocolate cutie looked at me with this weird look and a huge smile on her face.

As soon as the picture was snapped, I made a dash to the booth, but then something else came up.

In the back pocket of my jeans, I had a bunch of St. Louis Cardinals beads that were supposed to be for some other girl, but the girl was nowhere to be found.

Realizing that I wanted to get rid of them, I felt the next best thing was to give them to somebody.

So I went back and said in a very smooth yet shy tone, “Well, I have a bunch of Cardinals beads and I wanted to give the beads to a very pretty girl,” showing the red-and-white beads to the four of them.

Of course to this very day, I’m not sure if the chocolate cutie ever got those beads because everything seemed to be a blur right after I got in the picture with them.

When I got in the broadcast booth, I said over the air during a point in the sixth inning, that I was going to change my home run call, which was up to that point, “Open the door, Miss Angie!!!!” to a home run call in honor of the chocolate cutie.

For some reason, the wind blew everything that I had in front of me when I came to a pause and caught myself saying that I was going to change my home run call, feeling as though it would be a very dumb idea to do that.

Of course, as the summer progressed, I didn’t regret that decision of doing that.

“The Omen”

In looking back at 2006, today’s flashback will look at number 78 on the countdown of the things, people and moments that made this a year to remember.

About three weeks before the most romantic moment in the history of Memphis professional baseball, I received an email from my big sister Krystal about the column that I wrote on June 19th about how in the world did I end up going from a journeyman writer who was known for his volatile temper and problems with almost anybody or anything that he came into contact to a guy that is now known for the most romantic moment in the history of Memphis professional baseball.

When I scrolled down to the end of her response to my column, one of the lines, went along the lines of saying,”Miss Candy’s gonna make you famous faster than you thought.”

Of course at the time, I was only known for one thing, that I went to school with a few of the Redhots.

So the idea of doing something for a friend or in this case, a girl that I liked, wasn’t really something that would gravitate any attention towards me as I did the Fan Radio broadcasts.

My own objective of doing the games was to try my hand at baseball broadcasting and see if it would work out as a career as well as my other ambition, being a sportswriter.

The belief of the “Doc and Miss Candy Show” actually happening didn’t strike me until I did the “Two Girls and a Doc Show” on June 25th when the Redbirds faced the Isotopes at Autozone Park with Michelle and Sharika.

As I mentioned before in one of my flashback entries, I asked Michelle did the chocolate cutie ever get the secret admirer note that I gave her to give to the chocolate cutie on May 24th when the Redbirds faced Tacoma.

“She’s normally the first one that gets here, so I left it where she could get it,” she replied.

For some reason, I asked Abbey when I caught up with her after I finished up the “Two Girls and a Doc Show” did anyone in the Redbirds organization find out about my plan to bring the chocolate cutie in the broadcast booth.

“Top secret,” she replied as I wiped the sweat off my forehead with my Cardinals hat.

“So no one knows?” I asked.

“No one.”

As the game progressed into the eighth inning, I ran into Michelle and Sharika again prior to heading up into the broadcast booth to do the final two innings of the Isotopes-Redbirds game and explained to them that this, like most of the pursuits or things that I have tried to do by impressing a girl in the past, was going to backfire.

“She was telling us about coming up in the booth,” Michelle said to me as I looked at the action.

Knowing that Michelle and I were on the yearbook staff together at Whitehaven High School, which was the same staff that the girl I had a crush on during my senior year was on, I quickly explained to her that there’s no way that I can pull this off.

Absolutely no way.

Before I left for the booth, Michelle said this to me.

“How can you let what happened to you in high school dictate what happens now?”

As I moved through the sea of people to find Abbey, I ran into the chocolate cutie who waved to me and we exchanged hugs.

Out of the blue, I asked her about the thing of coming up in the broadcast booth on the Fourth of July.

“I haven’t even got my work schedule,” she replied.

And much like the day that I admitted to liking her, she gave me a little nudge on my shoulder as I made my way to the booth.

No big deal.

In the eighth inning, I noticed that some of the cheerleaders were down on the second level tending to the guests from where I was in the broadcast booth.

Over the air, I said about my next broadcast from the confines of Autozone Park which went along the lines of saying, “We might have a very special guest on the Doc Hancock Show when the Redbirds face the Nashville Sounds on July 4th from beautiful Autozone Park.”

I also made a mention that there was also going to be a big fireworks extravangza after the game and some fireworks in the broadcast booth because of the special guest.

The kiss of death, if you ask me.

When I signed off the air after the game was over, I made my way down the hall and to my surprise, the chocolate cutie was hiding out in the press row area.

“What the-”, I said as I looked at her, stammering my words like a stutter.

Apparently she didn’t say anything, but she got out of the corner she was hiding in and the two of us walked together down the hall and for the life of me, I couldn’t find any words to say.

Then for some reason, she ends up running down the stairs that lead to the main foyer to head back to the field.

The day before the Fourth, I talked to a co-worker about the chocolate cutie coming up in the press row area after the game on June 25th.

“Have you ever seen her up there before?” my co-worker asked me.

“Once, when I did the broadcast between New Orleans and the Redbirds on June 4th,” I replied, “and she was busy with some people that came in from Collierville while I was headed to the booth.”

“Who was she with on the day that you saw her up there?”

“No one,” I said,”She was by herself.”

“She has her eye on you,” my co-worker said to me.