Sadly, I’m no Wonder Woman…

It was a cool, Maundy Thursday evening. My mom, dad, husband, my mother-in-law, and I decided to stay and chat outside to enjoy the night breeze.

We were on the street, actually. My mom, dad and I were leaning against the front of our car which was parked right outside the gate of the house. The hubby and his mom were standing several meters away, at the corner of the street, nearer the main road.

We live in a gated village and I can say that the place is relatively safe.  On any given night you will see residents walking their dogs, or maybe they are jogging or brisk walking. People who know each other wave and exchange pleasantries.

That Thursday night, we saw a good friend of my mom’s walking with his daughter. They said hello as they passed by. And then we saw two ladies walking their dog. We all smiled at each other as they passed. 

It is a quiet, friendly community. 

And then the commotion.

We saw two teenagers running on the main road – some 20 meters away from where we were standing. We saw them run past the hubby and his mom.  Then we heard voices from where the teenaged boys came from, shouting what sounded like, “Stop them!” and “Snatchers!”

Then another group of men ran past, obviously running after the boys.

From the corner of the street where he was standing, the hubby saw the group catch up with one of the boys. Then he saw them punching and kicking the boy who, at this time, was already down on the ground.

It was at this point when the hubby decided to intervene. When I say intervene, I meant he decided to walk towards the group to, well basically, stop the fight – or keep the guys from killing the teenager with their blows.

So hubby went to the scene of the action. Followed by my dad. Then my mother-in-law!!!

My mom and I called out to the three of them, telling them NOT to get involved… But all three  pretty much ignored us.

Panicked, and thinking I should do something to help, I said out loud, “I’ll call the guards!”

So I turned towards the house in a rush, took a step…

…and tripped…

I took several more uncontrolled steps… then felt myself falling…

I knew I was going to fall hard. Not necessarily fast, but hard.





Nah, that picture is too cute. I believe I looked more like this:

A woman falling down face first

Me. Take two.

Then I heard my mom screaming my name.

Several thoughts ran in my head as I was about to fall…

  • I need to find my footing. I can do this. Nope, I don’t think I can.
  • I shouldn’t have teased my sister about her knee injury!
  • I need to break the fall. I’ll try to land gently on my knees. Nope, didn’t work… I just heard my knees hit the ground with a loud thud.
  • I HAVE to protect my face!!! I can’t let it hit the ground…

And as I was sprawled face down on the ground…

  • Great, now my palms are all bruised, as well.
  • Oh gosh, the dogs are pulling at the shirt that I am holding!

Then I heard my mom call out my name again with a panicked, “What happened to you???!!”

She tried to help me up but I had to take a minute because I was still shaken up from the fall – and my whole body was pretty sore. Plus my knees were hurting so I couldn’t stand.

And then my mom and I started laughing at how silly I must have looked. I couldn’t cry, so we just laughed harder.

If I were playing baseball, it’s like diving into home…

dive into home, Pete Rose


I would have scored a run, too.

❤ ❤

bruised knees

battered & bruised

My mom and I went back inside the house. I was able to call up the guardhouse – as originally planned.  Then she suggested that I put some ice on my knees after I washed them clean.


I guess it’s true that not all casualties are on the battlefield. Some are just there on the sidelines, minding their own business…

❤ ❤

In case you’d like to know how the commotion ended, well apparently, the boys were not snatchers or anything like that. It was an online relationship gone awry between the boy and the teenage daughter of the man running after him.

Shades of Romeo and Juliet.

We didn’t really find out the whole story since my hero hubby, his mom and my dad went back inside our house as soon as the guards arrived. Much to their amazement, I was the one with scrapes and bruises.

Unfortunately, in the street brawl between this Montague and Capulet, I was the collateral damage

❤ ❤

Update on my injuries: No need for x-ray nor immobilizer. I can walk, but it still hurts a little when I bend the knees or straighten the leg.

As of this writing, both knees are still black and blue, with small bruises and scrapes. Palms just have small scrapes.

Pride and dignity still bruised, as well. 

Wonder Woman would have saved the day… or at least come out of it unscathed. Oh well… 😦 


photo credits: Cartoon images via Google clip arts and cartoons; Pete Rose dive to home plate via Google and Getty Images; photo of my bruised knees taken by my son for remembrance, he said. 😉 


The Saturday that was

heat glamour


Saturday afternoon

So here I am, at 2:00 in the afternoon, standing in the middle of a field, basking under the summer sun… watching a baseball game.

It was a hot day. Scorching hot.  The ground was dry. So very dry. Whenever the wind blows, dust was sure to go with it.

I could feel the dust on my face, covering the layers of sunblock that I put several hours before.

I looked at my feet.  My black sandals have already turned brown.  I could feel my feet burning. Why-oh-why didn’t I wear rubber shoes instead??

“Why am I  here??”  I asked myself for the umpteenth time. 

I have been on the field since 8 o’clock this morning. This is already the fourth baseball game that I have watched and cheered for today.

The team is losing.  It’s losing pretty badly.

Three teams. Four games.  Three losses so far.  It has been a tough, not to mention, extremely hot day.  And my teams are losing.

My son isn’t even playing with any of the teams.  So, why am I even here???




Truth be told, I miss watching my son play baseball.  

Baseball has been his sport since he was 8 years old. He used to play golf before that, but the moment my husband introduced him to the sport of baseball — the moment he realized that he would gain more friends there, he kissed his (expensive) golf clubs, as well as his Jungolf championship dreams, goodbye.  There was no turning back.

And so for about 7 years, our weekends were filled with baseball games.  He has joined local tournaments, he has played in Asia Pacific Championships here and abroad, he has played with and against some of the very best youth baseball players from all over the region.

I have watched and cheered under the scorching heat, as well as in the pouring rain. I have experienced with him and his teammates the joys of victory, as well as the pain and disappointment that come with losing. I have gained new friends… I have made a number of enemies, too.   

Baseball is filled with moments, both good and bad. 

When my son decided to “semi-retire” from the sport… When he decided to pursue other interests (like singing, performing and yes, studying some more)… well, baseball pretty much took a back seat. 

I was in a way thankful that he decided to pursue other things. I mean, I do loathe staying under the sun for a long time.  And waking up at such ungodly hours to watch early morning games can sometimes drive one nuts — especially on a Sunday when you’d rather sleep in until noon. 

But honestly, I do miss watching him play.  I miss the thrill. I miss the excitement. Though some games can be very stressful, well, I sometimes miss the stress, too! (Sometimes I cheer like a maniac that my husband gives me dagger looks.)

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine myself being so involved in a sport. For some reason, baseball got to me. 

The universe has a sense of humor.


Last Saturday, three teams from our baseball club competed in a tournament. Three sets of players from three different divisions. The boys whom I watched training all summer long were given the chance to play against other teams.

Nope, they didn’t win all the games. In fact, they lost quite a number of times. Not one of the three teams brought home a medal nor a trophy.  The old me would have been disheartened and heartbroken.  No one likes losing.  

But after being a witness to all those games that my son has played… I have come to realize and accept that the players learn from both winning and losing.  

Losing isn’t always bad. Sometimes you have to lose so you’ll know what needs to be worked on. Sometimes you lose not because you are not good, but maybe because the other team prepared as hard as you did — or even harder.

But when you lose, lose with grace. Unfortunately, this is something that a lot of people, especially the adults, forget. 

Besides, baseball is a game of moments.  Each player somewhere, somehow gets to experience a moment… a moment that is his to learn from, his to remember and to savor. His moment on the field.

A winning catch. A double play. A home run. A successful slide. An almost impossible tag. One defining moment.  

These moments make the long hours under the sun worthwhile.

I was but a mere spectator that Saturday, yet I am glad I stayed and watched. Dust powdered face and all. 🙂


Pitcher-Catcher moment


photo credits: summer heat photos via google images ; Pitcher-Catcher moment photo from my ever reliable SLR (Taken in 2014 at the PONY Asia Pacific Tournament, Pony Division) 

Summer afternoons

I truly feel bad whenever I see my blog site and realize that I haven’t been blogging regularly. Changing my blog name (A Daily Dose of Betsy) has crossed my mind a number of times.

I just can’t find the time to blog daily.  Heck, sometimes I can’t post even one blog in a week! Tsk, tsk…

The spirit is willing, believe me, but time does not always permit.  Because life happens.   And as I let life happen, time just flies… Or I get too exhausted to stop and write… Or age catches up and my brain cells have a difficult time composing something.

Okay, enough of the blather.

So what has been keeping me busy…

I guess pretty much, this:

photo 1

Field of Dreams

Yes, we run a baseball camp.  My husband and I own and manage the Philippine Habagat Baseball Club.

The summer training started late March and will run until end of May.  Ergo, I am there at the venue Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays to oversee registration and talk to parents and players, reply to inquiries.

Training is from 2pm-6pm. In the beginning of summer camp I used to go to the Club as early as 12:30pm and stay until training finishes.  So there goes my afternoon.  Lately, though, I manage to leave the Club much earlier. Once they are all settled, I start packing up. The boys don’t need me at the field, anyway.

photo 2

smaller boys doing exercises

It’s amazing how the Club has grown.  Five years ago when we first started, there were but twelve (12) boys. We actually started with ten — the other two joined middle of summer.  We only had one team. One team that was formed to join an international tournament.

We learned a lot from that one team… from that first year.

It was not an easy journey.  Being new, people watched us closely. There were people waiting, even wishing, for us to fail.  There were bumps along the way. The world can be cruel.

But then there were victories, too.  And somehow, the victories outweighed the challenges.

Now, 5 years later… We are still here!  Bigger, and hopefully, better.

We have sent a number of teams to various international tournaments.  We have joined — and won — a lot of local tournaments, in different divisions, to boot!

And yes, we have been running a baseball summer camp for about  four years now.

From a team of twelve 11 & 12 yr. old boys, we have grown to much, much more! We have boys as young as 4 years old and young men as old as 18, training with us.

God has been good.

photo 3

big boys in a huddle

SO this pretty much keeps me busy these days.

I am not one who enjoys the sun, the heat, the dust, the sweat… (thought balloon: Eeew!).

But I love the times I get to spend chatting with the players — especially the little ones– before training.  I also relish watching them grow right before my eyes.

As I watch them get better, stronger, transform from being timid to becoming a fighter, I can’t help but think that yes, we must be doing something right.

Better players, better people.


Of course, there still are afternoons when I wish I’m elsewhere — malling or having a massage or doing something girly — and not whiling the time away under the heat of the summer sun.

When the boredom arises, I just do what I do best…

summer selfie

Summer Selfie!!!


windblown hair, anyone?

And yes, the afternoons pass much faster when you have your BFF to share it with…


Chat away!!

 I’m living in the moment.  

These are my moments.

Happy Summer!



I credit myself and my phones for the awesome photos 😉

Giants, baby!

The Game

The Venue

The Fans

The Goal


San Francisco Giants

2012 NLCS winner

Enough said.

Good things happen to good people.  Great things happen to great  people.

                                           –   San Francisco Giants, 2012


2012 MLB World Series begins Wednesday, October 24, 2012.

Detroit Tigers vs. San Francisco Giants

all photos via google images

Learning from sports

Veronica, Archie and Veronica

“I don’t sweat, I glow”
I simply adore her!!

I was never the athletic type.  I grew up being more of a stereotypical girly-girl… meaning, I walk slow, I move slow, I don’t like perspiring  (I don’t sweat, I glow), I always made sure my hair is not in disarray  — which would be difficult to avoid when you’re running or  doing any kind of physical activity.

Back in high school, you will see me spending more time in the library than in the gym.  I preferred doing mental calisthenics.  I studied about sports, but I didn’t DO sports.  I simply didn’t have the drive.

If I had a girl, she would probably be like me.  Most likely shopping and walking in the mall would be our best form of exercise together.  THAT I can do so well, even with eyes closed!   However I was blessed with a boy.  Good thing his father is super sportsminded so my son has someone to emulate.

And so, early on we introduced my son to various sports… Sports for him to love, to spend time on and to learn important life lessons from.


Let’s play ball!

Playing a sport teaches one about the value of discipline, hardwork, perseverance.  If it’s an individual sport (like golf or tennis), you learn to trust yourself more — because you have no one but yourself to depend on.  If it’s team sport, you learn about teamwork.  You learn to rely on other people — your teammates.  You play the role or the position given to you and you learn it well… and you trust that your teammates will do what is expected of them.

Sports should teach one about respect — for your coaches, your teammates and your opponents, as well.  Sports teach one about winning and losing.  Sports shape one’s character.  What one learns in the basketball court or on the baseball diamond can be applied outside — in the real world.

In fact, it’s a two way thing… you learn values from sports experiences which you can apply in real life situations — and you also bring into your games the kind of person that you truly are… whatever values you have grown up with.


Ideally, sports should shape a child to become a better person.

I encouraged my son to do baseball not only so that he can meet new people, gain new friends, but also because I wanted him to learn about discipline, hardwork, teamwork, respect, among other things.  He may not be the best baseball player, but we constantly remind him to just give his best ALL THE TIME.  He may make mistakes, fumble, strike out and may not hit a home run.  What we expect from him is to always attempt, to run as hard, to respect everybody on the diamond — umpires included, and if he’s going to strike out, to strike out swinging.

We don’t expect our son to be the Superstar baseball player but we expect him to give his 100% all the time.  Greatness would follow.


champion, #1, winner

What does it take?

It is sad, though, that not everybody shares the same sentiments.  There are people who are after nothing else but the win.  Of course we all want to win.  Yet there are those whose battle cry is — Win at all cost!  Never mind that you don’t show respect for the opponent — or even your teammates.  Never mind that you quarrel with the officials along the way.  Never mind that you manipulate people or events, just so your child can play in all the games you want him to play in.

There are parents who think that their child is the Superstar and everybody else is just there as an entourage.  Of course they choose their child’s teammates because their child should play only with strong players, lest they don’t form a winning team.  And unfortunately, there are coaches who let these parents meddle.

Sadly, there are people who think that winning is dependent on what the scoreboard says.  Somewhere along the way, the very essence of sportsmanship is forgotten.


Calvin and Hobbes, tantrums, temper tantrums

let’s throw a tantrum!

As a parent of a sportsminded young man, I have seen all kinds of people in and out of the playing field.  I have seen boys having tantrums in the middle of a game.  I have seen parents throwing tantrums while on the bleachers.  I have seen coaches shouting expletives at the officials after a questionable call.

Sometimes I ask myself, am I doing the right thing exposing my son to these kinds of people?  Is this what he is learning when he plays baseball?  Isn’t he supposed to be learning about respect??

Honestly there are times when I want to either tell some people to just shut up OR to pull my son out of the game and tell everybody that they can all go to — wherever.

It really can get to you.  Most often than not, game situations inside and reality situations outside the field become a test of MY character.  Do I stay and keep quiet, or do I walk away and leave my son to play his game regardless of whatever’s happening around him?



I am more than just a cheerleader.

If I try to intervene and tell some parents off  — or in extreme cases, coaches —  then I guess I am no different from them, right?  I think the only thing that is within my control is my son…how he perceives things, how he will take things, and how he will react given certain situations.  Perhaps at this point he still needs my guidance as a parent.

When it comes to baseball skills-building, I know he won’t learn anything from me.  But if we’re talking about values and character building, I do believe that the parents should still stay involved.

Children are very impressionable.  Teenagers are prone to succumbing to peer pressure.  Parents should all the more be vigilant.  Moreso, parents should be the mature ones and act the part.

I choose to stay present during my son’s sports activities so that if I see that there are outside factors influencing him to shift to the wrong path, I can be there to direct him back.  Time will come when he’s old enough to decide for himself and he won’t need nor want me anymore to tell him what to do.  But until that time comes, I intend to try and do the best I can to lead him towards the right path.

I try to be the mature person that I am supposed — and expected — to be.  I don’t quarrel with other parents, I don’t berate the coaches or the umpires.  I try to teach my son that rules are meant to be followed and that people of authority should be respected.  I also remind him that the players — both teammates and opposing team, alike — should be treated with the same respect and dignity that he expects himself to be given.

This is what playing sports is all about.  It’s not just about winning games.  Because on the field, one is only as good as his last game.  But in the real world, one is and will be remembered for the kind of person that he truly is.

Train a child in the way he should go.  Even when he is older he will not depart from it. —  Proverbs 22:6


photos via google images and clipart.

bible verse from the Holy Bible, New International Version