Digital Diary: Run To Home Base

The inaugural Run To Home Base 9k took place in Boston at Fenway Park on May 23rd, 2010.

Yours truly was there with disposable camera in hand.

And, while my photography skills are considered weak by most standards, I ran with said camera in an attempt to capture some digital memories of my journey from a Yawkey Way starting line to a finish across home plate in the most storied ballpark in baseball.

Ready...set...go!

[ DIGITAL DIARY: START ]

-----------
7:08 am
-----------

The calm before storm. I've been in Fenway Park several times over the years and I've never seen it this quiet.



Ever.

-----------
7:46 am
-----------

Felt more like livestock being corralled than runners being directed to our starting position.



Moo.

-----------
8:11 am
-----------

My view along with a bird's eye view of my starting position.





Still not sure what may have prevented the gentlemen outside the gates from running.

-----------
8:29 am
-----------

The first turn around the 2 mile mark.



Stepping back and seeing so many people running toward me on the left and away from me on the right gets lost in photographic translation.

What doesn't get lost in translation, however, is the vivid memory I have of Special Ed's I Got It Made pumping in my shuffle as I made my first picture stop. Still the only song in history to rhyme "potato 'n alligator souffle."

I got it made.

-----------
8:42 am
-----------

The gentlemen in the red shirt was running in place on his patio as we all ran by and stopped the moment I attempted to catch him on film.

I didn't get a picture of Mr. Red Shirt flipping me the bird while I tucked my camera back in my shorts either.



Now I know how the paparazzi feels.

-----------
8:58 am
-----------

Heading through the tunnel that connects Landsdowne Street and center field in Fenway. I had goosebumps.



And I really had to pee.

-----------
9:04 am
-----------

This is the closest I could get to the Green Monster after crossing the finish line in a mediocre 47:36. My hope was to get a long shot of runners emerging from the tunnel but volunteer staff prevented me from getting said angle.



Ok, you got me. I wasn't trying to get a picture. I was trying to gain access to the scoreboard door inside the Monstah.

Fail.

-----------
9:10 am
-----------

The post race trying-to-cross-home-plate bottleneck.



Tough to distinguish where the runners stop and the stadium crowd starts.

-----------
9:27 am
-----------

Finally. Home plate: where all the magic happens.

I made a deal with the runner in front of me. I promised him I'd take a shot of his feet touching home plate if he would grab the camera and take a shot of mine doing the same.

I lived up to my end of the deal.



He didn't.



(Maybe my camera skills aren't so bad after all.)

-----------
9:34 am
-----------

Soaking in the sun on the infield of Fenway Park.



Still really had to go pee, though.

-----------
9:38 am
-----------

A fellow runner was nice enough to take a picture of me before exiting the field.



Should have asked her to take that shot of me crossing home plate.

Running for a good cause was great. Participating in the inaugural Run To Home Base 9k was an honor. But the best part of the entire day was being on the field at Fenway Park.

Without security chasing me.

[ DIGITAL DIARY: END ]

So it's finally over.

I've done so in the past but I'd like to send another sincere thank you to all the folks who donated. Not only did you help veterans suffering from PTSD and other head trauma related ailments, you also bestowed me with the opportunity to enjoy an experience of a lifetime.

Thank you.

Quick Thinking: No One Likes a Tattletail

A respected family member once told me "believe nothing you hear and half of what you see." The fact that she didn't coin the phrase doesn't minimize the truth ringing through it. With her sage instruction in mind, I'd like to offer my own slice-of-life advice to all of you:

"Believe nothing you hear, half of what you see and mind your own fucking business."

And we're off...

-------------------
Quick Thinking
-------------------

-- Never minimize the complicated nuances of an individual's life thinking you, as an outsider, can understand them by looking at a few online photographs.

-- Or by attempting to go through their iPhone.

-- Yes. You.

-- Password is 6447 by the way.

-- The only way Orlando has a chance against the Celtics is if they hire the Gillooly boys to go all "Tonya Harding" on Rondo's knee.

-- Why?

-- Whhy?

-- Whhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyy?

-- While all of us are made up of between 55 and 75 % water, most of us are made up of 100 % Haterade.

-- Keep drinking it in, y'all. Keep drinking it in.

-- Birthdays just aren't that important to me.

-- Celtics vs. Lakers in the NBA Finals is inevitable.

-- I've never seen one episode of Lost.

-- In fact, I've never even seen one minute of one episode of Lost.

-- And, thanks to Josh Elliott and ESPN, I never will.

-- People who live their lives focused on other people's lives are a sad lot.

-- Smart Water, indeed.



-- Douchebag Award of the Week goes to yours truly for, well, being a douchebag.

-- If she was my wife, I wouldn't care about earning a parking spot for off season workout participation either.



-- Quote of the Week comes from the mighty Mos Def while rhyming on Common's track Questions, "How you got high expectations but got low patience?"

-- Ponder accordingly.

-- It's a good thing Magic Johnson could play because he can't analyze a game worth shit.

-- The Boston Bruins losing both game 7 and the series after leading 3-0 in each is further proof that sports gods exist.

-- And, apparently, they're not part of Bruin Nation.

-- But neither am I.

-- At least Floyd Landis isn't bitter or anything.

-- If Landis' claims are as "bullshit" as Lance says they are, Mr. Armstrong should simply dismiss them instead of having an impromptu press conference asserting his innocence.

-- Like most things on the Internet, Mr. Skin is pretty useless. Any heterosexual worth his merit inherently remembers nude scenes of attractive starlets.

-- I've said it once and I'll say it again: John Papelbon is the proverbial albatross hanging around the neck of the Sox bullpen.

-- I'm not sure what's worse: Hooters threatening to fire employees based on weight or these "chubby" attention whores going to local news stations to complain about it.

-- Feels like a marketing ploy to me.

-- The irony, of course, is "the camera" tends to add ten pounds.

-- Memo to TMZ Nation: Pictures of newly crowed Miss America, Rima Fakih, from 2007 dancing on a stripper pole shouldn't be considered "newsworthy."

-- You show me a beauty pageant winner and I'll show you 10 guys who have pictures and/or videos of her doing things her father wouldn't approve of.

-- Shit, they should just add an "Inappropriate Media" category to all future pageants and showcase contestants' lewd and lascivious behavior.

-- Might even help with ratings, Donald.

-- Turns out LeBron's playoff performance suffered from rumors surrounding his mother's love life and not from an injured elbow as was originally speculated.

-- I mean, I get it. Would you be able to concentrate on your job if a co-worker who looked like DaLonte West was sleeping with your mom?



-- Exactly.

-- HEY YOU GUUUUYYYYSSSSSS!!!

Quick Thinking: Birthday Edition

This year's birthday finally brings me a gift I've been waiting for my entire life.

Maturity.

And for my next trick...

-----------------------
Quick Thinking
-----------------------

-- The recreational sports one plays can be a strong indicator of their age.

-- My competitive juices were firing while bowling last night.

-- On the Wii.

-- And I'm really quite sore today.

-- Douchebag Award of the Week goes to Ben Roethlisberger for, well, being a douchebag.

-- As another birthday creeps up on me, I'm thankful I've been blessed with hairpants to cover the current state of my old, saggy ass.

-- My Calvin Klein's look like a pillow case without enough pillow.

-- With a vicious 5 o'clock shadow.

-- Curt Shilling, the most recent addition to ESPN's baseball coverage crew, doesn't look like a guy who could throw a wiffle ball past my nephew, let alone be one of the most feared former aces in recent MLB history.

-- Hey, Curt, I hear Nutrisystem is in the market for a new spokesman.

-- I wonder what kind of over-the-top superlatives Johnny Most would be using for Rondo's performance this postseason.

-- Memo to all you "studs" out there: Having sex with a promiscuous girl, even a really hot one, isn't an accomplishment, fellas.

-- It's inevitable.

-- Celebrity Look A Like Award of the Week goes to yours truly for resembling Lloyd Christmas during my youth.



-- Apparently, in addition to the bowl cut, prepping for picture day in '80 involved shaving my eyebrows.

-- ESPN's ScoreCenter is my new favorite iPhone app.

-- The push notifications for "myTeams" -- Sox, Celts and Bruins -- relieve the hassle of clicking back-and-forth between channels when 2 are engaged in epic playoff battles and the other is playing in the most heated rivalry in sports.

-- I never had the chance to study "Anonymous" during my English major career at Providence College, but he or she certainly has some good quotes floating around.

-- The Bridge, a movie documenting the tragic truth that the Golden Gate Bridge is the world's suicide destination, is a sobering narrative on how fragile the human condition is.

-- Polarizing people tend to acquire a handful of lifelong friends during their journey.

-- But polarizing people also have a tendency, by their very nature, to leave a long list of enemies in their wake.

-- Someone recently told me I was polarizing.

Revenge of the Magi

I locked eyes with Eric Robichaud at a movie theater on Saturday for the first time since we stood across from each other in a courthouse room back in 2003. Eric is a former employer who sued me and my long-time friend, Sean Follick, when we incorporated our own business, Magi New Media, in 2002.

[ SIDE NOTE: START ]

Just because I hadn't seen Eric in the flesh since 2003 doesn't mean I didn't attempt to communicate with him.

In 2005, there was a billboard with Eric's likeness over I-195 promoting Cox Small Business Solutions. Upon seeing said billboard, I sent Mr. Robichaud a congratulatory note on Magi New Media letterhead that read:

Eric,

I saw your big as life picture over I-195. Congratulations on your continued success.

It seems appropriate that Cox has a dick for a spokesman.

Best Regards,
-- terrence

True story.

[ SIDE NOTE: END ]

It's incredible the amount of genuine hate I still have for this man after all these years.

Eric, Sean and I started as colleagues. Eric was the CEO of a successful, family-owned development company in Woonsocket, RI. Sean served as the Sales Manager while I filled the role of Production Manager. After nearly 3 years of working together we developed, what I thought to be, a reasonably strong friendship along with mutual professional successes. But things started to fall apart when Eric began a tryst with one of Mediaweave's newly hired Sales Associates.

[ SIDE NOTE II: START ]

I use the phrase "Sales Associate" loosely. Tonya didn't close one deal during our shared tenure at Mediaweave.

Except, of course, the one with CEO Robichaud's libido resulting in his divorce and, ultimately, the demise of his company.

[ SIDE NOTE II: END ]

After Tonya infiltrated our ranks, everything changed. Eric, the workaholic, started being late. Then he started to miss meetings. Eventually, he stopped coming to the office all together. Then he was served papers for divorce by his angry wife, Becky, who was Mediaweave's bookkeeper.

In the midst of this mess, Eric moved in with Sean to cut personal costs. Then he started dancing. Shortly thereafter, Eric and Tonya bought a house together and guess who had to help move them? The three of us had countless conversations discussing the state of the company, possible solutions, and a plan for sustained success despite Eric's domestic turmoils.

Then it happened: 9/11.

The post 9/11 economy was difficult, to say the least, and Mediaweave's business suffered. The tipping point came in the from of an employee coup when it was learned Eric was plugging his losses by withholding payments into employee benefit packages. Sean and I knew the business would not survive this type of activity and we needed to do something. And that something manifested itself in the form of Magi New Media.



The plan for Magi -- the wise men from the east -- was to help Sean and I bridge our careers during the collapse, and hopeful resurrection, of Mediaweave. Ultimately, our plan was to use Mediaweave as our main contractor for client jobs secured through Magi. We even sat with Eric to disclose our intentions and he welcomed both our honesty and commitment to not "fully abondon" our current posts with his company.

Sean and I were escorted from our desks and off the premises 2 days later.

Our friendship with Eric, now fractured and irreparably damaged, Sean and I did the only thing we could do: focus on building Magi New Media. We developed our web site. We found 2 investors who would support us with their small business know-how and office space. We even closed a few deals and were getting meetings with "potentials."

Then it happened: Eric sued us.

The thing is, Eric didn't have a case. He sued us for violating non-compete agreements that Sean and I never signed. And the reason we didn't sign them? They didn't exist. Eric's goal was as transparent as is was simple: to drain our limited start-up capital.

He succeeded.

The depositions, legal fees and monetary settlement that my partners and I accepted in order to end the proceedings so we could focus on growing our new business reduced start-up capital by 1/4.

[ SIDE NOTE III: START ]

Magi survived the courtroom drama and was a moderate success. But, ultimately, the services we offered were viewed as a "luxury" in the post 9/11 world we all inhabited and, despite the high quality work Magi was producing, we closed our doors after about 2 1/2 years of operation. Sean and I lost sleep, money, time, hair, energy & years of friendship following the failure of Magi.

Shit, I nearly lost my life.

The stresses associated with our company -- even though it was formed with the best of intentions -- proved to be more than either of us could bear.

[ SIDE NOTE III: END ]

They say living well is the best revenge.

I guess looking him in the eye while he realized who I was and watching him signal to his children to turn around and walk the other way ended Saturday's episode. But, regardless of the small satisfaction allowed by the end of our recent encounter, I would still welcome the opportunity of 10 minutes alone with Mr. Robichaud in a room without cameras.

And not in a gay way.

The Home (Base) Stretch

As some of you already know, I'm participating in the Run To Home Base on Sunday, May 23rd. The race is a 5.6 mile run through Boston finishing at home plate in Fenway Park.

Each registrant is required to raise $1000 before May 16th to donate to Massachusetts General's Home Base Program. A program, by the way, that has personal significance and is committed to serving the needs of veterans with combat stress disorders and/or traumatic brain injury.

This is only time I've ever used this forum to ask for your help, dear readers. (And, to be honest, I still don't feel very comfortable doing it.)

I know funds are tight for everyone right now but if you're a regular reader and I've made you giggle -- even once -- please consider helping me reach my $1000 goal.

According to my incorrect status page, I currently stand at $625. (The reason it's wrong is because I sent a check totaling $215 made up of all the cash donations I received. So I'm really at $840.)

That leaves me $160 short, dear readers. $160. I need $160 by May 16th.

DONATION INFO:

I'd like to offer some much deserved gratitude to all those who have already donated: "Thank You!" Without you I wouldn't be so close.

But I'd also like to ask all of my readers who haven't donated, while typing on my knees, to ponder clicking on the link below and throwing 10 bucks my way to help me reach this goal instead of buying me a few beers next time you see me.

If you'd like to help CLICK HERE.

Or you can copy and paste the following link into your browser:
www.runtohomebase.org/runtohomebase/TerrenceJoyce

Our future hangovers will be thankful, too.

Quick Thinking: Slow & Steady

As I continue to make a concerted effort to heed the words of Brand Nubian -- both in the words I speak and the manner in which I speak them -- I've realized that Aesop was right on the money with The Tortoise and the Hare.

Slow and steady does, indeed, win the race.

----------------------------
(Not So) Quick Thinking
----------------------------

-- Nothing brings me back to my childhood in Idaho faster than the nostalgic smell of manure from state crews fertilizing highway medians.

-- Scrumptious!

-- After watching Game 2 of the Eastern Conference Semi-Finals between Cleveland and Boston it's clear LeBron's injury is both real and severe.

-- The Cavs have no chance of beating the Celtics without their healthy "King."

-- Speaking of kings, will someone please make Drama King Favre go away.

-- I don't watch too much hockey, but the playoff run by the Bruins suggests they played the greatest game of possum of all time during the regular season.

-- Regular, my ass.

-- Office life would be a little bit better if "Casual Fridays" were replaced with "Novelty Cowboy Hat Fridays."

-- Giddyup!

-- Quote of the Week comes from Dustin Pedroia while defending another slow start by teammate David Ortiz: "He's one of our teammates. It could have been me who hit into a double play. It happens to everybody. He's had 60 at-bats. A couple of years ago I had 60 at-bats and I was hitting .170 and everybody was ready to kill me, too. What happened? Laser show. Relax."

-- And with one media outburst, Petey just became my favorite baseball player of all time.

-- Despite the urge I have to put him on my shoulder and make him say, "God bless us, every one."

-- Tiny...TIMMAAAAAAHHHH!

-- Memo to All the People Who Have Ever Told Me I'm Full of Shit: The average person carries anywhere between 5 and 25 pounds of feces in their large intestine at any given point depending on the individual's diet and weight.

-- So it appears that you, too, are full of shit.

-- Yes. You.

-- Jackie MacMullan is money on WEEI's Dale & Holley show every Tuesday.

-- Be careful, Dale. "Jackie & Holley" has a nice ring to it.

-- I'm thinking I may need to reassess my love for sports if being tazed is fandom's new badge of honor.

-- Don't be an idiot by running onto the field, bro!

-- Lawrence Taylor's behavior is part of an alarming trend highlighting the worst qualities of today's former entitled athlete.

-- It was probably the 16-year-old girl's fault though, right E-Boog?

-- Where are Big Ben's corrupt body guard's when you need them?

-- Cautionary Tale of the Week is sponsored by embattled Central Falls Mayor Charles Moreau who's life seems to be trending from cooking "Shaw Dinners" at Magee's Diner to becoming the Mayor of Central Falls to, potentially, a line chef in a federal prison.

-- That silence you hear is the absence of your former friends and confidants.

-- Run, Governor hopeful Lynch. RUN!

-- Good luck with the investigation, Chuckie.