Johnstown Mill Rats Top 10

 In the final week of May, the end of school collided with the beginning of local baseball. The Johnstown Mill Rats, known to be persistent rodents, were back for a 4th season @ the Point Stadium. This was after a winter where there were whispers that the Rats would not be coming back. Have no fear, the Rats returneth. My family was 1st base side for the first two home contests of the year and here is the Top 10:

#10: The First Pitch

There is a nostalgia to baseball that resonates like no other sport. That nostalgia is amplified when the starting pitcher has the first name "George" and a locomotive rolls by on opening night. It looked and sounded like 1964 in that moment. First and foremost, thanks to all the parents who are still naming baby boys George. Hats off to you. Second, let's celebrate that we still have train conductors, or at least I think we do. Not a robot or a super computer, but a real-life human operating a rumbling machine on tracks. As train after train powered by The Point, I cheered for both baseball and train transport. Also, I am actually writing this blog and not having ChatBS write my words for me. Hooray humanity!

#9: The Concession Stand

If my wife and I turned our kitchen into a concession stand, would our children eat more regularly? Also, could this be lucrative? We could drain those piggy banks by the 7th inning stretch. The concession stand is the pearly gate of childhood fandom. Most kids are not what you call "baseball purists". Case in point, during the 7th inning of Game 2, one of my daughter's friends asked me, "What team are we cheering for?" 

#8: "Sugary Nuts"

My 7-year-old announced her excitement for this treat for all of Johnstown to hear. The candied pecan is delicious, but as a father, you have to tone down your daughter's accurate yet somewhat controversial proclamation. You have not lived until you have heard the battle cry for "sugary nuts" from the bleachers. 

#7: Rats Rain

If you thought it was going to be sunshine and rainbows for the Johnstown Mill Rats opening home stand, you are a fool. Johnstown and rats love rain. Our home team started the season 2-0 primarily because of thriving under rain clouds. While the Champion City Kings were warding off hypothermia, the Rats were smiling and blasting the ball into the atmosphere.

#6: Rats Rainbow!

It was a rainbow over the outfield wall in Game 2! A red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet spectacle for all to see. 

Except for my kids, they were at the concession stand driving us into debt. 

#5: "The Squeeze"

In baseball terms, "the squeeze" occurs when a baserunner takes off from third base while a batter bunts the ball. For whatever reason, this is one of the sport's most exhilarating stunts. On opening night, the Mill Rats pulled it off to purist perfection. Back in my Little League glory, I was an accomplished bunter. I never hit a home run because that is obnoxious. Anyone can blast a baseball over a fence. It takes guts and glory to stare a pitcher in the eyeballs, lift your bat horizontally, close your own eyes, pray the ball hits the bat, and then run like hell. 

#4: Tossing

My daughters stepped on the field for both contests, playing in-between inning tossing games. My 7-year-old had to throw a baseball through a tire for one exhibition on opening night. Both girls invested in a water balloon tossing game in Game 2, which also sent shockwaves to the Champion City Kings. They saw two little girls tossing water balloons cheerfully as the rain fell to the Earth. The Mill Rats and their faithful are about to intimidate and then submerge you with water joy. Champion City Kings? More like Defeated Peasants. Dry up and go back to Ohio. 

(I have nothing against Champion City. I'm sure it is lovely).

#3: Milton 

The Mill Rats mascot is of course a rat and his name is Milton. By far, the best on-field antic was when a young boy doused Milton with a water gun to "spray him for ticks" on opening night. This was a hillarious sponsorship deal. Tick removal is no joke yet this got a standing ovation from me. It was Dad joke theatre on the field.

#2: Together 

I am glad the Mill Rats are back. Gratitude to the families who rallied together to make this season possible. I am grateful to have a healthy family in attendance. The weather conditions might not have been ideal, but the company I kept was my favorite. That's my team no matter the forecast. My girls are growing up fast so some slow-it-down baseball puts a lot of things in perspective. You are going to make some errors. You will get some bad bounces. The rain will surely fall. 

But, if you stick with it, and stick together, there is a rainbow coming. 

#1: The Season Ahead

The Johnstown Mill Rats will play into late July. I encourage you to take the family and cheer on young kids playing baseball. Pack an umbrella just in case. Bring plenty of money for the concession stand. 

And most importantly, be a positive contributor to community. 

LET'S GO RATS!

Back to The Blog 2024

 After a lengthy hiatus from the blogosphere, I have triumphantly returned to spread goodness. I am now a 40-year-old writer full of increased wisdom, wit, and self-depricating humor. During my time off from writing, I fell off the front stoop taking out the garbage cans, traveled to Hawaii and Kansas (not the same trip for my geographically challenged readers), and have grown a well-manicured, silvered beard. Or as one grandma put it, "you look like a Civil War reenactment". 

Bless her heart. 

In order to reengage the Internet population and build off my 1860s appearance, let's travel to three basics terrains of community. 

LAND

On this Memorial Day weekend Sunday, a simple message from mass was the hope for a "long life on the land". In our society, 40 is recognized as a turning point birthday that comes with victory and defeat. For every garbage can fall into the grass there is a Hawaii rainbow. I was able to experience both of those moments before I hit "The Big 4-0" and I would like to believe I benefited from the triumph and the tragedy. The Hawaii rainbow is captured in a picture with my beautiful daughters underneath it. The garbage can fall was captured by our security camera. Instead of warding off vandals or identifying trespassing critters, our video surveliance system's greatest use has been repeatedly watching a Monday morning Dad collapse taking out the trash. A truly epic fail that has made so many people laugh and one man acknowledge, thy prime has thy past. 

Alas, I am back on my feet and was back on the course for the 10th edition of The Path of the Flood race this Saturday. I purchased new New Balance shoes for the event. I do not understand how anyone buys shoes online. If there was video surveliance watching me trying on running shoes, it would be a tough watch, but I believe it is necessary. I start out excited, move to confused, retry on shoes as if something changed in the past 30 seconds, and I ultimately get really hot. It is almost more challenging than the race itself. During this one-man Shakespearean shoe play, a friendly teenage worker came back around to ask me "Are you still ok?!?!" clearly identifying I was taking the running shoe purchase to a Death Valley extreme. 

Ultimately, I unconfidently bought a pair of New Balance Tektrels that have the slogan "Revel in The Magnificent Outdoors" inside the shoe. This is an ingenious marketing strategy to reel in the 40-year-old Dad. 

New Balance Shoe Designer #1:  "The Tektrel has a great exterior, but how do we grab the Dads' attention?!?"

New Balance Shoe Designer #2:  "What is on the inside? The part no one can see, except the foot, and the Dad."

New Balance Shoe Designer #1: "Nothing right now..."

New Balance Shoe Designer #2: "What if we wrote 'Revel in the Magnificent Outdoors'?!?"

New Balance Shoe Designer #1:  "Brilliant. Every Dad from the trail runner to the grass cutter is going to freak out."

(End Scene)

In 2022, I did the 8-Mile Run for the Path of the Flood. In 2023, I took a year off because our family of four was traveling to Hawaii two days after the race and I did not want to be sore on the plane. That is responsible parenting. You're welcome, kids. 2024, 8-miles once more, no need to fear the sore. 

Each and every year the Path of the Flood has been a remarkable success thanks to great race direction, dedicated volunteers, and a running community willing to flow like the water. The Staple Bend Tunnel is transformed into a racing cathedral as candles provide a tranquil beam with a sunburst exit into the forest. And then you exit the tunnel, and as one runner summarized, "it is hell from there". Hills and a shadeless landscape to end the race make the outdoor reveling a much more difficult tagline to embrace.

The race ends where my marriage began. In 2013, my wife and I had the first wedding reception at Peoples Natural Gas Park. 11 years into marriage, the celebration continues - as a couple who is grateful for a wonderful hometown community. While she finds running to be punishing and stress inducing, it is a cathartic, cardiovascular mission for this man. An opposition attraction when it comes to running yet a unified belief that supporting local events is our responsibility. Blessed to call Johnstown home and determined to be goodwill ambassadors for the place that will always be a part of us. Great job once again to all the Path of the Flood leaders and volunteers. 

And on Satuday night we participated in another event celebrating YEAR 10. Before she brought two children into existence, my wife helped bring life to an idea known as Taste and Tour. 10 years later, it has become synoymous with Memorial Day Saturday and perfectly paired with the morning's racing event. Each year it gets bigger, sells out, and has become a battle cry for downtown Johnstown. My wife plays the role of General. I am the supportive husband who looks like he fought in Gettsyburg. Match made in Johnstown /Heaven. 

Thanks to all the buisnesses, volunteeers, tasters, and tourers - you are all champions. I hope everyone smoked a cigar Saturday night like they were the 4th place male in the 35 to 44 year old age bracket. 

AIR

In April, we flew to Kansas City, Missouri to visit friends we met in Johnstown. They, a military family, had a brief stay in our hometown yet a lifelong friendship was built inside a church, on trails, in parks, and raising kids one adventure at a time. Our reunions since have taken us to the beach, the Virginia wilderness, and a Kansas farmland. It is amazing how faith and family have no geographic bounds. 

In July, the next airborne adventure will be upon us. Our Kansas City comrades are not on this highly anticipated journey, but two other Johnstown families make up our brigade.  Six parents. Seven children. Alaska, HERE WE COME. 

My daughters are in full support that my beard will be grown fully and magically until we get home from The Last Frontier. Then, upon our return, I will shave it completely and look like a runner who could get 4th place in the under 20 age divison. My wife is more scared of the upcoming shave than the accumulating silver. We all have our crosses to bear. 

SEA

I have not cataloged my "days on water per month" but May 2024 has been aqua advantageous. Four separate embarks on the Stony Creek River this May have yielded water wonderful results. Twice as a canoeist, once on a raft mission to pick up riverside pollutants, and a final family float courtesy of Coal Tubin'. I have canoed the Everglades and the Suwannee River, have tandem kayaked in Canada, have gator toured the Lousiana bayou, and have whitewater rafted West Virginia, but there is something special about having a hometown waterway to explore. 

My wife and I got to experience this year's Stony Creek Rendezvous, an annual tribal trip for whitewater enthusiasts to gather @ Greenhouse Park and throw a Mother Nature party. Our connection this year was via a stewardship event organized by the Watersmith Guild, which sounds majestic and medieval all at once. The guild's website proclaims a mission "to inspire watershed conservation and improve lives through arts and adventure programming."  That mission was absolutely accomplished on the third Friday of this May as dozens of volunteers worked together - to plant riverside trees and then complete a paddle-pick-up of riverbank trash in a coordinated conquest. There was community camaderie in that purposeful paddle. Thanks to my Stony Creek squadron who seized that day. 

Flanking that adventure were my canoe trips that featured everything from a bald eagle sighting to my partner canoeist proclaiming, "We are capsizing!"  Mallards and mayhem on the mighty Stony Creek produced hearty laughs, adrenaline pumps, and an appreciation for our neighborhood's Great Outdoors river. This all led to our family Coal Tubin' this Memorial Day Sunday.

Joining our family of four was my father-in-law in a float for the ages. We started out as an interconnected tube team as this was our daughters first go at the river wild. The Stony Creek sparked my eldest's curiosity as she fired up her motor mouth the minute her toes touched the water. Shortly after the first rapids, I left her to the forces of Nature and her mother. I took her younger sister with me, who proceeded to fall asleep, my angel in a life vest. My youngest was a model of serenity while my oldest dared to ask me "what 365 times 9 is?" at one point trying to pinpoint her currrent days on Earth. 

I sharply answered, "I hate math".

Along our route, the differences between my daughters could not have been more dramatic. One was going to talk us off a cliff while the other would have snoozed over Niagra Falls. One's body could not stop moving, treating the rafts like bumper boats. At the same time, her sister was slipping into an incredible Zen, a bobbing redhead glistening in the sun. I love them both and always will. 

I will always hate math. 

But I cannot end the first blog back with hate. I love to write. I love my family. I am grateful for my faith, friends, and the fellowship that has traveled on land, air, and sea with so many great people to some many great places. 

And yet there is nothing like coming home. 

Positive Johnstown blog is back. Spread good news and keep your head above water. 

(Editor's Note: 365 x 9 = 3,285)