The view from the copilot seat in front is quite nice...

  Larry L. Taylor (12 February 1942 – 28 January 2024) was a United States Army officer and helicopter pilot who was awarded the Medal of Honor on 5 September 2023 for his actions on 18 June 1968 during the Vietnam War. 

The President of the United States of America, authorized by Act of Congress, March 3rd, 1863, has awarded in the name of Congress the Medal of Honor to First Lieutenant Larry L. Taylor, United States Army, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty.

First Lieutenant Larry L. Taylor distinguished himself by acts of gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty while serving with Troop Delta, 1st Squadron, 4th Cavalry, 1st Infantry Division on June 18th, 1968, near the village of Ap Go Cong, Republic of Vietnam.

On this date, First Lieutenant Taylor commanded a light fire team of two Cobra helicopter gunships scrambled on a nighttime mission in response to an urgent call for aerial fire support from a four-man, long-range patrol team.

Upon arrival, First Lieutenant Taylor found the patrol team surrounded and heavily engaged by a larger Viet Cong force. He immediately requested illumination rounds and supporting artillery to assist with identifying the enemy positions.

Despite intense enemy groundfire, he flew at a perilously low altitude, placing a devastating volume of aerial rocket and machine gun fire on the enemy forces encircling the friendly patrol.

For over approximately 45 minutes, First Lieutenant Taylor and his wingman continued to make low-level, danger-close attack runs on the surrounding enemy positions.

When enemy fire increased from the village of Ap Go Cong, he requested artillery rounds with lower illumination altitudes be fired on that portion of the village so that the burning rounds ignited the enemy positions.

With both Cobra gunships nearly out of ammunition and the enemy still closing in on the patrol team, First Lieutenant Taylor flew the patrol team's potential ground evacuation route, finding it unviable based on the heavy enemy ground fire encountered.

Returning to the patrol team's location, he continued to circle it at a low level under intense enemy fire, employing his searchlight to make fake gun runs on the enemy positions to distract them from the patrol team.

Running low on fuel and with the patrol team nearly out of ammunition, First Lieutenant Taylor decided to extract the team with his two-man Cobra helicopter gunship – a feat never before accomplished.

He directed his wingman to fire their remaining minigun rounds on the patrol team's east flank. First Lieutenant Taylor then fired his own last minigun rounds on the enemy positions, opening an avenue of movement to the east for the patrol team.

He directed the patrol team to move 100 yards towards the extraction point, where First Lieutenant Taylor, still under enemy fire, landed his helicopter and instructed the patrol team to climb aboard anywhere they could.

With the four-man, long-range patrol teams seated on rocket pods and skids, he evacuated them to the nearest friendly location, undoubtedly saving their lives.

First Lieutenant Taylor's conspicuous gallantry, his profound concern for his fellow soldiers, and his intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty are in keeping with the highest traditions of military service and reflect great credit upon himself, his unit, and the United States Army.

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Delta Sigma Delta seemed to support a number of educational and professional projects.  They did not, however, have a fraternity house; meetings were conducted on campus.

Frankly, my decision to pledge Delta Sig was guided because of the man whose signature is on the left of my certification.

That signature belongs to none other than 'Diamond Jim' Andrews.

Yes, Martha, that Diamond Jim...

I have encountered few men in my life who commanded so much respect from those around him than Doctor James T. Andrews.

An absolute legend in the dental profession, 'Diamond Jim' was chairman of the Operative Department, responsible for instilling the nuts and bolts of dental surgery.

Our class was blessed to have such an array of accomplished instructors.  Dr. Andrews, spearheading the phenomenal effort to restore UT as a world class dental school, was a hands-on clinical instructor with exacting standards.

I still clearly remember that very first class and Dr. Andrews referring to requirements of our various tooth preparations and subsequent restorations measured in tenths of millimeters.

That got my attention .

Further, his demeanor reminded me a lot of my father, and, not dissimilarly, an Army Drill Sergeant.  

But with a more gentle touch.

Every dentist remembers the very first time they stood in line for the evaluation of their potential skills as a dentist.            

Like Christians being fed to the lions, your turn was coming.  I was reminded of the many times I had reported to a senior officer, he being seated and I standing while rendering a salute. 

  When you presented your class I occlusal preparation, toiling for nearly an hour and utilizing a drill capable of 350,000 rpm, trepidation started seeping in.  Everyone in the ever-growing line awaiting their judgement is all tuned in to your critique, knowing theirs is impending.

All eyes and ears are on you.  Further, this is 'Diamond Jim' Andrews, a living legend.

Not once did it occur to us that, in college, a university professor of such import would not be encountered until in Honors courses or their senior year.

Governor Winfield Dunn saw how Army basic training transformed young men, in a relatively short period of time, into warriors.

The Army presented the very best teachers to the young trainees.  My father was one of those very best as a Drill Sergeant.

Dr. Andrews was that wealth of clinical knowledge and, combined with instructor abilities, both clinical and didactic, provided unquestioned leadership in the Operative Department.

I distinctly remember my Spidey sense going off the closer I approached this living legend.  As a young infantry officer, RECONDO and Pathfinder qualified, and having endured a number of counselling sessions from a United States Army Drill Sergeant, I still felt a certain sense of dread...

Dr. Andrews carefully evaluated my excavation of the ivorine tooth in my dentoform.  With bright illumination and magnification, he performed an approximately two minute inspection.  He looked up and suggested I smooth the pulpal floor a bit more.

I asked him which tool I would use for that, thinking it might be the Wedelstaedt Chisel.

I learned a life-long lesson at that moment:

"Mechanics use tools.  You use instruments...", with a grin on his face.

I was pleased to hear from Dr. Matthew Brock, 

 Southeastern Endodontics 

who informed me that the legacy of 'Diamond Jim' remains at UT College of Dentistry with his daughter now at the reigns.

God bless her and thanks, 'Diamond Jim' for the high honor of being one of your students.

This fraternity was well funded by alumni.  Their house was located on some of the most expensive real estate in Memphis and they had their own top notch dental lab, obviating the need for adherence to lab hours on campus.

Psi O had some characters who were excellent clinicians and athletes.

And they loved entertaining their friends with frequent parties.

They extended a kindness and generosity to all their peers, regardless if they were Psi Omega members or not.

Intramural sports enabled me to make some great friends and found me hanging out with them more than my own fraternity.

Although Patty and I attended some of their pool parties, my time there was mostly spent in the utilization of their dental lab.

Thanks, boys!

 I eschewed the use of UTCHS facilities in the GEB (General Education Building) at night.

Memphis after dark provided inherent dangers attendant to fabrication of that gold crown...  

As UT was one of only a handful of dental schools in the nation that, as part of the paradigm shift in dental education in Tennessee, required their dental students to do their own lab work.

 All crowns, bridges, orthodontic appliances and removable prosthetics were the student's responsibility.

Thankfully, the cast metal removable partial dentures, with the exception of the first two, were fabricated by our dental technicians, as required by their training in their pursuit of CDT (Certified Dental Technician) status.

In fact, the complexity involved in the construction of a standard RPD became a lost art over the years.  Dr. Denny Standifer's father, again an absolute legend in Chattanooga, provided me with some outstanding appliances over the years.

He retired from, I believe, Mynatt  Dental Lab, resulting in the dentists in the Chattanooga area forced to utilize an Area Dental Lab in Atlanta.  

Dr. Standifer's bench time with his father as a ten year old, cutting sprues off castings, was a blessing in many ways.

His Midas touch, alluded to earlier, was accentuated by those early skills gleaned from his time in his Dad's lab.  He helped his peers in dental school with lab issues; Denny was a leader in his class.

His father provided direction for Red Bank Baptist as their music director, as I discovered from a number of my patients.  

I remember those beautiful, well polished RPD's.  Without exception, there was little adjustment necessary for the flanges and distal extension; occlusion was always great...

At any rate, I avoided being in downtown Memphis after dark, even in 1977:

 One Thursday night around 2345 hours, and the GEB near its closing time of midnight, I exited the GEB and prepared to cross the street where my beautiful Mach I was parked.

Surprisingly, I saw some bastard trying to steal my beauty.  He had smashed the driver's side window and attempting to hot wire my Blue Beast.

Seeing all that glass in the street enraged me.

A 1972 Mach I needed only a coat hanger to gain entry, due to the design of the large window and door lock.  Having locked my keys in the car before, 30 seconds or so with the coat hanger allowed easy access.

Yes, Martha, that happened to me several times... 

Furious, I sprinted to confront the POS committing one of the top ten violations among men who love their cars - 

Don't f#*k with my baby!

Hearing my footsteps, the low life quickly withdrew from my damaged vehicle, his wide eyes giving evidence to the immediacy of the situation.  

This wasn't Whitey.

No, it was a typical Memphis resident found in an LBJ project.  Black. 

 His 'fight or fight' reflexes kicked in. Abruptly dodging my reach for his neck, he sprinted through a park adjacent to Madison Avenue with me in hot pursuit.  This SOB was fast and, although I was closing in, my Spidey sense warned me not leave the confines of UTCHS.

Fortunately, I had USAA automobile insurance (at that time, only offered to officers in the military) and renter's insurance.

After a similar occurrence a few months later,  I leaned on my Psi O colleagues for the use of their dental lab.

This stud good friend also had two incidents on campus with, again, not Whitey.

John is a product of a military family.  His incredible father,

  Col Haynie Sherwood Bastian (1917-2001) 

was a bomber pilot in WWII and patriarch of a proud Southern family in the Shackle Island community.  I was visibly impressed with Greystone, John's beautiful family home reminiscent of those huge stone edifices found in the Confederate South.

 John established his general dental practice in nearby Gallatin, providing excellent dentistry to many lucky patients, including The Man In Black.

Yes, Martha, my recommendation for one of God's warriors, Riley Gaines, to consult him for her personal security was also Johnny Cash's dentist.

John, a Southern man, knows the value of the Second Amendment.  Aware of the dangers of his abode, Dr. Bastian kept a holstered six shooter looped on the bedpost within easy reach.

On two occasions in the dark of night, John awakened to find a person in his room with evil intent.

And, of course, it wasn't Whitey.

This black bastard has hopefully found Jesus, in light of John's restraint from sending him straight to Hell.

Nope.  John didn't need his life to be more complex than it already was in his pursuit of that dental degree.

He escorted this POS out of his room, doubtless with a stern counselling session.  He didn't even call the cops.

This happened twice during the four years we were in Memphis.

I recall John, after leaving Patty and me late one evening, was pulled over on campus by Memphis PD as he approached his apartment.  John had done nothing wrong, but it was approximately 0200 hours, on a desolated street (only a block away from where the black bastards kept trying to steal my Mustang).

John's pistol was lying on the passenger seat in full view of the officer.  The policeman simply stated "good idea...".

Again, these two black bastards, not Whitey, who Biden would tell us is the REAL threat, should thank their lucky stars John did not beat them to death.

There was a knock on the door. 

 This was a Saturday night and I was the only one in the house as these guys were all single and out on the town.  There were some folks frolicking in the swimming pool and I was watching a Braves game.  I opened the door to find one of Memphis' finest, a notepad in his hand.

"There's a complaint from your neighbor...", the officer informed me.  

It seems good old Dr. Koontz was chagrined.  His Midtown Memphis residence consisted of a complete city block; it was across the street from the Psi O house.  As an infantry officer, my first thought was that his mansion could be easily defended from his real enemy - those Demoncrats in Memphis; its expansive lawns on all four flanks provided unfettered zones of fire.

Apparently, a fraternity house was not a welcome addition to this lah-de-dah neighborhood.  Friction had been smoldering for some time with Psi Omega over the years.  This staid residential area 

didn't take kindly to those frat parties...

I must admit thoughts of Animal House entered my mind one evening while doing lab work and observed a toga party at the pool.  However, I had never witnessed excessive noise or boisterous activity.  Further, the pool area was enclosed by a privacy fence.

Shout-out to John Belushi...kudos to Jim, but he couldn't wear a toga like John...

At any rate, I queried the officer as to the nature of the complaint.  Suspecting excessive noise or similar, his response was quite intriguing.

"Nudity in and around the pool...".

A momentary pause, as I waited for the officer's continuation of the issue, before I inquired "And...?".

The pleasant officer, a slight grin breaking on his face, "That's it...". 

Reflecting no change of expression, I assured the officer I would avail those responsible of his recommendation to cease and desist.

He thanked me and departed.

I grabbed a beer, turned the TV off and took a seat by the pool, as the dental lab was a separate structure from the house and only steps away from where I was awaiting the burnout of my wax pattern for a lower first molar crown.

Enjoying the basis of the Dr. Koontz complaint for a few minutes before my destiny with molten gold, I relished a Coors and naked nursing students enjoying themselves.  

There were perhaps a dozen or so folks enjoying a beautiful summer evening.  They weren't preying on tourists on Beale Street or damaging vehicles on the UTCHS campus.

Several just happened to be naked.

As I headed into the lab, I conveyed the warning from Memphis PD.

Thank you, Lord in Heaven. 

Anecdotally, a successful casting was produced that evening.  Images of God's best creation danced in my mind as I cut the sprue and polished that baby...

Pretending to be insane in order to avoid jailtime for various offenses, Jack Nicholson was committed to a mental facility and found himself in a battle of wills with Nurse Ratched...

It has become a reference to the 'inmates running the asylum' metaphor, earned over the decades since the release of this funny movie.

Dismissing patients and wiping the tears from my eyes, I was dumbfounded at who, apparently, were the bosses - university students who have contributed nothing to society.

I would never have dreamed the Demoncrats and Marxists would turn our 'higher education' over to the Upside Down World.

The battlefield presents dangers, many of which are mitigated with proper adherence to those rules which begin in Basic Training.

My father knew his responsibility to the parents of his young trainees included their best possible preparation for combat.

This Drill Sergeant knew his trainees well and pushed them to have the situational awareness at all times in order to survive on the battlefield.  Some of these young men, especially those from the South, were quick learners.  

Some were not.

A few moments later:

"Captain Daw, MASCAL!", as my platoon sergeant was providing an alert for boarding our air asset.

He continued, "I'm grabbing the chaplain...".

Do not touch unexploded ordnance.  That's why God made EOD professionals.

There is something about explosives that gets young men all hot and bothered.

Admittedly, I sometimes dismissed my father's warning about those unexploded firecrackers:

"Do not mess with them.  You'll blow your fingers off..."

Recognizing the potential energy of the innards of those duds provided the impetus to split them open and gather all the powder from the UXE and make one big explosion.

As I have retained all my digits, God looked after me.

This young corporal, after discovering an unexploded RPG, decided he was going to take it with him and somehow ship it home.

His squad members admonished him to call EOD.  Ignoring their counsel, this young soldier carried it around for an hour or so before the constant berating by his comrades caused him to abruptly toss it into the bushes.

The MEDEVAC team found multiple injuries; one soldier was severed at his waist, others were missing limbs and worse.

I recall the chaplain kneeling and praying with a young soldier whose pinky finger had been blown off.  Our deeply respected and much loved chaplain was gently guided to a mortally wounded warrior who was asking for him.

As the flurry of activity was occurring, the soldier responsible for this tragedy, a dazed look in his eyes and staring at the carnage, kept repeating - 

"What have I done?" over and over for about fifteen minutes, before he collapsed with a piece of shrapnel about the size of a half dollar embedded in his brain.  

May God bless these heroes.

The Korean peninsula does not provide large areas for training.  Field Artillery, Air Assault and Infantry all share the limited terrain designated for military exercises.

UXE is a common finding.  Spidey sense should always kick in...

I recall the constant bitching from CPT Al Abejon, one of my BOQ buddies in Yongsan, that he couldn't employ the Hellfire missile

as its 11 kilometer range precluded its use.

Cobra pilots love their Hellfires...

Anecdotally, CPT Abejon was the technical advisor for that portion of "A Time To Triumph" movie that was filmed at Fort Rucker.

I now had two connections to the movie starring one of my favorite actresses as a youth.  Patty Duke portrayed Concetta Hassan, a highly talented young CWO2 aviator, and one of my patients.

I was impressed with this young lady who had VIP designation - reserved for only the best aviators - and ferried ambassadors, heads of state, and other VIP's, including General Officers, around Seoul.

Unprecedented in American history, this Demoncrat has sparked untold worldwide repercussions.

 According to The Guardian, new evidence shows that both the Red Cross and the Vatican helped Nazis and their collaborators escape from their Allied conquerors to a life of freedom, either by mistake or as part of an immoral plan to preserve Catholicism's power in Europe and the world at large. 

Historically, the United States of America has been the only force on the planet to have Israel's back since 1948.  Further, the antithesis of Biden, President Donald Trump, accomplished what no previous president had not:

Officially moving Israel's capital to Jerusalem.

Again, Donald Trump is a Christian and values the sanctity of life.

Robinette is not.

With Biden's prohibition of arms for Israel in its very struggle for existence, and, conversely, lifting sanctions on the arming  of the existential threat for Christians and Jews:  Lebanon and Qatar.

These Muslim whores harbor the Bastard Sons of Iran

The most compelling evidence of the soul of the Iranian - Manchurian Candidate, and traitor to both America and Israel, is Biden's waiving of sanctions on Iranian oil, now at record production levels.

40 billion dollars annually.

Plus paying Iran 1 billion dollars each for American hostages.

Further ensuring Iranian influence will, in fact, result in explosive consequences in the Middle East, Biden declared war on American oil production.

Pure evil. 

There must be no living American hostages in Gaza, as Biden has not paid the typical ransom demanded by Iran.

The angel revives Daniel and tells him he has come to give Daniel a message from God in answer to Daniel’s prayers. A demon had prevented the angel for three weeks from reaching Daniel. The angel’s message is about Israel and the future.

 New International Version
“At that time Michael, the great prince who protects your people, will arise. There will be a time of distress such as has not happened from the beginning of nations until then. But at that time your people—everyone whose name is found written in the book—will be delivered."

 ¹³But the prince of the Persian kingdom resisted me twenty-one days. 

In those days, Persia was the proverbial Superpower.

Powerful enough to have their own spawn of God's outcasts - or, as Jesus put it:

Demons.

Spiritual forces powerful enough to keep Michael, no slouch himself, away from Daniel for 3 weeks.  

It appears the prince of the Persian kingdom  has now possessed Biden.

God has provided enough fuel for Mother Earth and all His creatures for, using Biden mathematical terms, zillions of years.

Using the simplest building block of His amazing Lego set, God uses Hydrogen as the progenitor for a nuclear fusion process that renders Helium and lots of energy.

Hold onto your panties, Demoncrats, I know 'energy' is a bad word.

No Carbon here, which, by the way, is essential for ORGANIC molecules.

Again, using Bidenomic terms -

Every second, the sun fuses 600 billion zillion kilograms of Hydrogen into Helium.

Most importantly for us, 4 billion zillion kilograms of matter is converted into energy.

Doubtless, the Duchess of Cornwall would also prefer that noble gas...

 to the gas presented by the ignoble Manchurian Candidate. 

 President Joe Biden let out a long, loud fart while talking with the Duchess of Cornwall at the COP26.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hnWmTbOhVE

Even the European douchebags were appalled at the rapid fire anal ejections from the 'stop-those-emissions' walking corpse.

 https://www.politico.eu/article/joe-biden-fart-cop26-royal-family-camilla/

The duchess “hasn’t stopped talking about” Biden’s fart, an “informed source” told the Mail on Sunday in what may be the greatest use of media sourcing in years. Move over, Deep Throat, here comes Deep Colon.

“It was long and loud and impossible to ignore,” the Mail wrote about the fart — the breaking of wind, not the U.S. leader, I hasten to add.

"... or was it Commander?  No, wait- it was Jill!"

30 May 2024

Only a G2 this time...

Even though sunspots are relatively commonplace, a G5 not so...

 "Extreme" and rare G5 solar storm hits Earth on Saturday • Earth.com 

Followed by a G2.

Would this be analogous to earthquake aftershocks?

Or something else...

Whitey was at it again, wielding a machete in a McDonald's in Time's Square...

While this was going on, the crime fighters in Gotham City were pursuing the Orange Man.

Tens of millions of dollars spent by the traitorous scum, known as Demoncrats, in New York City to convict the only hope for this nation.

Before God's intervention.

Oops!  Again, a case of mistaken identity.

 It wasn't Whitey with the machete...

5 November 2024

A day of reckoning?

Escorting her to the Read House that evening presented that omnipresent challenge:

Suppression of the Banty Rooster.

I didn't mind slapping a tie on and providing escort for her in this invitation-only soiree sponsored by various modeling agencies.  One particular agency had noticed Lisa, discovering her from a number of Olan Mills photographs that were on prominent display at various studios.

Lisa was an appointment secretary for their Hixson studio, located at that time where Five Guys is now.  Soon after, Mr. Mills acquired 2120 Northpoint Boulevard for their beautiful photographic studio.

This was a brand spanking new building, supporting a considerably larger studio.

Forsaking her modeling career in order to become my bride, she had two office positions at 2120 Northpoint Boulevard.

Initially, appointment secretary for Olan Mills and later becoming my office manager (the day after giving birth to Kara Dennison Daw, aka The Second Lady, on August the seventeenth of 1995), Lisa's work area from the Olan Mills era was transformed into the children's alcove. 

Upon becoming a Mother, she naturally had the front desk... 

Kara Dennison born on my birthday.  Blessed yet again...

There he is...

I returned home after a day in the office and noticed a nice picture of the family Kara had drawn.

It was the Mother's Day card Miss Kara presented to her mom, knowing it would be her last...

This was odd, as it was just Bullitt and me; yet this was lying in front of the fireplace.

My immediate thought:

Where did this come from?  Again, it was just the dog and me; if it wasn't food, he would not be interested...

I knew it was Kara's beautiful Mother reminding me, not that I needed one, of this bittersweet annual remembrance of an angel who left us way too soon.

Kara, who demonstrated her artistic talent  early as a preschooler, carefully drew her Mother, brother Dylan and Daddy, providing her mom with the same hairstyle she sported in 2004.

The whole family was drawn to scale and a couple of paragraphs Kara penned elicited misty eyes from her Daddy.

Kara was quite the nine year old...

That supernatural event was only one of a number of occurrences that assure me Lisa is performing Overwatch...

Neither did they.

I met the mother of my firstborn, Kris.  

Close to UTC just across the river, and as a part of the courting ritual, I rendered my beautiful Mach I for her utilization. 

Occasionally.

  I just ran to campus; later, Patty would pick me up in time for me to get to Overnite...

After the ROA 

Convention at Fall Creek Falls, the vivid images from this prestigious event, posting the Colors before the Convention of hundreds of officers, were not top of mind.

No; memories of Kris' mother and me seated in front of a large fireplace and enjoying Anne Murray's 'Danny's Song' danced in my head.  Her beautiful prediction of a son, a gift from God, reflecting their love, was a harbinger of the future.

Oh, I was so smitten.

Or retiring as a dental officer after thirty years of service, retaining all my limbs and digits....

Cadet Sharp's Ranger School experience sealed my decision to apply to UTCHS.

Thanks to many blessings from God, I was accepted; Patty and I survived Memphis and the thugs who roamed the streets.  

This great lady ensured the son that blessed us, Daniel Kristopher 

Daw, had her love and attention, especially during my various deployments.

Further, he was born at the United States Army Aviation Center, Fort Rucker, AL.

Not Fort Novosel.  Sounds like one of The Manchurian Candidate's China batteries for an EV.

Changing the name hasn't

prevented an explosion of aviation crashes.

Filthy Demoncrats care nothing about the safety for our soldiers.  DEI rules the day.

I always root for the guy or gal who is unashamed for their love for  our 

Savior...

As the battery mate of some really good pitchers, especially while in high school, occasionally the opportunity to throw out a thief presented itself.

 Each time I was able to deter the enemy, by denying his attempt to steal a base, provided a nice epinephrine release and a departure from the routine throw and catch with my pitcher.

Catchers in little league, however, were not threatened.  With 60 foot basepaths, runners couldn't lead off.  As a ten year old and my initial foray into organized baseball, most of my teammates were reluctant to be on the receiving end of  young and wild pitchers.

I thought the chest protector, shin guards and mask looked awesome and studly.  Further, the catcher was literally in every play.

Yes, Martha, a brand new dimension was added to the #2 position on the baseball roster - thievery was authorized.

That rascal on bases doesn't have to camp out on the bag; he can attempt to steal the next one...

My job had now expanded to an offensive capability in the removal of the base runner.  Oh, the sweet taste of watching that dejected runner heading to the dugout lingered long after his out was recorded.

Those proud-of-my-arm Banty Rooster moments were, inevitably, replaced by those stealing attempts where it seemed I was trying to throw out my centerfielder...

Even worse, on a few occasions, the runner attempting to steal third base was ushered home, thanks to an errant throw from yours truly.

These were collectively learning moments in my life.  Don't get too hyped with successes and don't get overly burdened by failures.

Of course, homering with a 36 inch Louisville Slugger provided the most offensive pleasure.

Defensively, digging out a pitch in the dirt and keeping the runner where he was provided particular enjoyment.

The absolute best:

The 2 -3 pickoff....

" Just lean a little bit more..." 

A silent appeal to the baserunner on first every catcher knows well...