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Touch 'Em All

Posted by Stinger on Wednesday, September 20, 2006 2:30:48 PM
 President Bush's speech before th UN yesterday knocked my socks off. I had expected a soft, "diplomatic" plea for cooperation combined with a promise that America means no one any harm. Instead, he gave us a truth-laced indictment of anti-democratic extremism in the  middle east and throughout the world, and did not shy from pointing fingers. It was, in my parlance, a home run.

And then I heard Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist on the Hugh Hewitt show, just a few hours after W made my day. Weak and waffley on giving the President what he needs to deal with combatants not covered by the Geneva Accords, on getting appointed judges out of committee and to the floor, on securing our borders, on keeping the Senate in session 'till the work is done. Pathetic.

Frist does not belong on the team. Mighty Casey has struck out.

Stinger
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Coaching

Posted by Stinger on Saturday, September 16, 2006 4:38:45 PM
I'm a lucky guy. I get to send some of my time as an assistant baseball coach with a local high  school. Four years ago I started helping with he freshman team...the next year I worked with the JVs, and last year I got promoted to the varsity. I mostly work with the outfielders, and I keep the book during games.

This time of year, team members not playing a fall sport can sign up for OSS...out of season sports...and we get them for 6th period. It's mostly drills on fundamentals, and conditioning, which really means running. But it's a great opportunity to teach techniques, and explain why we use those techniques.

By the time the kids get to high school, they've been pretty successful at baseball by using their athletic skills. But very few of them really think about why things are done the way they are. I spend a lot of time just trying to convince them that baseball is a thinking game. This time of year, I harp on the outfielders to think about what they will do with a ball hit their way on every single pitch. What's the count...how many outs...how many runners on...what's the score...what's the inning...how deep is the outfield grass...where's the wind and how strong is it...where's the sun. Factor all those things into the single hit in front of you, the fly ball you can get to, and the ball hit past you in the gap or down the line. Where are you gonna throw? Hit the cutoff guy (95% of the time) or a desperation throw to the plate?

During our scrimmages, I'll just stand next to an outfielder, and ask him questions about his plan, and why. Do that a hundred times, and the kid will start doing it on his own...and maybe even in a game. But the best part is that when you get to talk to high  schooler about the game, you also get to talk to him about life. Life in general, and his life. And that's were the privilege I spoke about above comes in. Even kids with great parents and teachers need someone older and experienced...but not responsible for them...to talk with and trust. I get to be one of those guys. Wow.

Take two, and hit to right...

Stinger
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Remembering II

Posted by Stinger on Tuesday, September 12, 2006 1:19:03 PM
My informal survey the past couple of days has convinced me that most of us left coasters don't personally know anyone who was murdered five years ago. I've just finished posting about my friend, John Yamnicky, who was murdered when American Flight 77 was flown into the Pentagon. There was another man on that flight that I knew.

Bud Flagg was another Naval Aviator...retired as a Captain after many years on both active duty and service with the Reserves. In 1975/76, I was flying with a Navy Reserve squadron...VFP-306...out of Andrews Air Force Base, just outside Washington. D.C. Bud was a pilot with American Airlines in Dallas, and had been flying F-8 Crusaders with the Reserves there. He was contemplating moving up to the D.C. area, and wanted to see if he could fly with our squadron. He had as much experience in the F-8 as just about anyone in the entire Navy, and was certainly qualified. He hung around our ready room for a couple of weekends, and may have flown with us...I just don't remember. Shortly thereafter, I left D.C. for San Diego, and I don't know whether or not he ended up in the squadron. So to me, he was, at most, an acquaintance. Big guy...short, light hair...ready smile...very friendly.

As I noted in remembering John Yamnicky, they could not have known that their plane was to be used as a weapon. Between Bud and John, there is no way those thugs could've succeeded...if only they had known what the Flight 93 guys knew. If only....

Two guys out of thousands of people...but I knew them. It's personal, and always will be.

Stinger
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Remembering

Posted by Stinger on Tuesday, September 12, 2006 12:53:15 PM
In the winter of 1967, I was a Lt. in VA-172, an A-4 squadron flying from the USS F.D. Roosevelt in the Mediterranean Sea. Our Skipper, Bob Harris, was leaving, and our Executive Officer (XO...#2 in the squadron) would be moving up to Commanding Office. That meant we would be receiving a new XO. His name was John Yamnicky...a big bear of a man. I suppose I was a bit of a smart aleck...been in the squadron for almost three years and thought I knew it all. My memory is that the XO didn't think too much of me (justified, I now understand), but I left to return to the states and a new Navy job in March, so no harm was done.

Fast forward to the first weekend in September, 2001. VA-172 was having a reunion in conjunction with the annual meeting of the  Tailhook Association in Reno, NV. My bride and I drove up from Southern California, and had a grand time reliving the good times. On both Friday evening and Saturday evening, we found ourselves sitting with John Yamnicky...long since retired from the Navy as a Captain, and living near Patuxent River, MD, where he had served several tours as a test pilot. Any "issues" (mostly imagined by me) were left behind, and John and I regaled my wife with stories of the good ole days aboard the FDR. She loved the stories, and quickly developed an affection for John.

We went our sperate ways, promising to keep in touch, and committed to another VA-172 reunion in a couple of years.

Even as I type these words, I get a shiver, remembering reading the list of those murdered when American Flight 77 was flown into the Pentagon. John was on that flight. Less than two weeks after we had so enjoyed our reunion.

Several tours flying over North Vietnam...the most thoroughly defended real estate in the history of air warfare. Flying on the edge as a test pilot...hundreds of night carrier landings. A huge, powerful man...infused with courage...never a man to back down from a challenge.

The heroes of Flight 93 knew that their plane was a missile intended to kill innocents on the  ground. The passengers on Flight 77 didn't have that information. I KNOW that if they had, John Yamnicky and others on that flight would have taken action, just as the folks did on Flight 93. But they never had a chance.

God Bless you, John. As long as I breathe, I'll do all I can to help avenge your murder.

Stinger

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