Foreword

Lemme tell ya something straight upfront. I’m a retired union guy with forty damn years bangin pipe with Local 420. Not for nothin but I don’t have to suck up to nobody for nothin. So when I tell you this book is alright is cause its alright not cause I’m getting some sort of a kickback. Nobodys slidin me an envelope. I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart. Reading isnt exactly my thing. You ask my wife Donna she’ll tell ya I could barely read my vows!

It all started at my 10 year old grandson’s game over in Aston. He plays first base for Brookhaven. The ump behind the plate is this skinny fella wearing these real tight gray pants with a stick up his ass. Thought he stole the pants from his sister. A real clown show. He’s makin shitty godawful terrible calls like he’s gettin paid to screw us and I just wasn’t gonna have it without giving him my piece. Just awful. Then my grandson gets rung out on a pitch a foot over his helmet that’s not fair so I’m given this guy the business. You know how it is how the umps always can’t see for shit. Writing about it gets me hot all over again like them friggin clowns doing 50 in the left lane of the goddamn blue route.

So my grandson’s the third out and I go down to the fence to let blue have it. He says I’m doin my best out here sir. But I don’t give a shit what comes out this kid’s mouth far as I’m concerned. As I’m yellin he’s just standin there as the kids warm up between innings. I’m seein red so can’t remember if there were parents telling me to shut up but I remember the coaches weren’t doing shit to stop me either. I’m yellin at this cocksucker and my blood pressures through the roof. I’m a retired steamfitter so my backs shot but I can still yell like a champ but this kid is calm. Too calm. I know he can hear me. I’m yellin and yellin eff this and eff that and he’s just standin there with this dumb look on his face just listening. Then every time I say something he’s got something smart back. Not fresh just smart. And he’s just standing there takin it. Something about the way he wasn’t gettin mad kind of took the wind outta my sails. All of a sudden I’m the one who looks like a jagoff. I started to feel bad and that’s a first since I’m always right. So I finally go what are you some kind of rodes scholar?

He just smiles and at that point I couldn’t let him have it. After a bit I cool down and kind of felt bad. I can see he’s just a good kid out there and cares about the game. We get to talkin. I apologize to him and the rest of the parents for makin a scene. Turns out he’s a nice kid and I get to know him better. He tells me he’s writing a book. I ask him whats it called. He tells me the name and I said whats that hakuna matata for college kids? It means no worries right? He laughs and says close enough. After the game he goes to his car and gives me a copy of it.

I get home and flip through and almost threw it out. Pages are full of words I can’t pronounce let alone read and I’m actually a pretty smart guy. Its just that the sisters hit me over the head so many times I couldn’t see words straight on a page. I barely scraped by with my marks at O’Hara. Half the time I was in trouble for something dumb anyway like chewing gum during mass or popping my collar like John Travolta or saying Jesus Christ a little too loud when I dropped my pencil. But it was fair when they caught me that one time doodling hitler mustaches on pictures of saints and passin them to Debbie Holcombe or some other chick I used to date. That was on me.

But anyways then I get to this part in Mike’s book about fellas chained up in a cave where their just watchin shadows on the wall and it hits me. Before this my whole thing was gettin put in facebook jail for a few weeks after posting some MAGA stuff. I thought I was fighting the good fight. Turns out I was just one of the guys in the cave yelling at shadows. For years and years I was the one watching the same shadows on the news. Never bothered to turn my head. Makes you feel like a real jagoff.

I been going to Charity over in Brookhaven my whole life. I thought I knew everything about doing good and being a good person but this book aint about that. Its about the stuff that goes on in your own head. Like the dichotomy of control thing. It just means you can’t control the Eagles blowin a 3 quarter lead but you can control not yellin and throwin your remote at the TV. Its common sense but you forget sometimes. Jalen Hurts didn’t spill my Budweiser all over the recliner I did.

Mike also wrote something about tribes. That’s me. That’s my whole block. We all vote the same and bitch about the same things cause its easy. But this book makes you ask is if it is right? Its about learning how to think and not what to think. Turns out for 62 years I’ve just been letting other people do the thinking for me. Then he’s got a part in here about cognitive disonance. That’s a fancy term for being a hypocrite. Its me yelling about how wawa is a cult one day then stopping there for gas on the way home cause its convenient. Like I said this book’s about recognizing that stuff in yourself and trying to be a little more solid.

Look I’m not changed. I aint flying no happy rainbow flags. I’m still me. I still think this country’s got problems. Don’t get me wrong but I’m not about to get banned from facebook no more and stir the pot. The book made me see why I felt bad for yelling at Mike. I think I’ve just learned that its okay to yell at umps my whole life but that’s just wrong. Mike’s an actual human too and a stand up guy actually. Its about seeing the other guy’s side of things. Its about learning how to think not just what to think which is what I been doing my whole life.

Don’t get it twisted I’m not suddenly gonna pullin no lever for no democrat alright? I still think this country’s got problems. But reading this book its like I finally took the blinders off. The other side aint the devil their just other folks in the same damn cave looking at different shadows. This isnt a political book neither its a you book. Its about being a man and owning your own thoughts and not being a puppet for somebody else’s payroll. Its tough. Its honest. Its solid. Its built right. Like my 05 Impala with 200 thousand miles. It aint fancy but it gets you where you need to go. Read it. It might make you a better person or at least maybe you’ll stop yelling at the umps so much.

My mother was sending me a message by having Mike ump that game for a reason. Really changed the way I look at things now because at my age you realize you aint gonna be around forever and I wanna be the best role model I can be for my grandson. This book helps with that alot. I want to be there for my grandson for as much as I can for what time I have left on this earth.

About a year ago thought I was having a damn heart attack or stroke. Couldn’t catch my breath and my chest was tight and my hands were tingling. My wife rushed me to Crozer back before they went to shit. They ran tests and I was shocked when they said it wasn’t my heart at all. Its COPD and I never even smoked my whole life. Now I’m on something called Symbicort and they tell me the numbness in my hands is neuropathy.

Makes you think though. Mike’s book talks a lot about how short life is how we’re all just here on borrowed time. Trust me you see it different when the doc says you got something wrong with your lungs. He looks me dead in the eye and says Rich this stuff don’t get better you either slow down or its gonna slow you down for good. That hits you right in the gut like a damn cinderblock. I laughed at first but later that night at home it hit me that I’m not bulletproof anymore. One day you’re yellin at umps then next day you’re sittin there wondering if you’ll stick around long enough to make it your grandson’s high school graduation some day. Kind of wakes you up to reality you know? I pray to god every day that I can make it. Anyways you gotta give this book a read. Might seem like it doesn’t make a lot of sense for someone like me but I still got a lot out of it that’s for damn sure.

— Rich Hudson Brookhaven, PA