Note:this entry can be found in entirety at: http://rupertroo.blogspot.com/I’m not sure about the 3 people who actually read this blog, but I’m guessing that you are probably close friends or family. That said, you must know me pretty well. So I won’t get into the gritty details of what has gone wrong in my life over the past year. Odds would have it that you already know that I'm an unemployed doctor (by choice, I didn't totally fuck up or get sued or anything) living in the suburbs of Chicago in the same crappy town that I grew up in. Living with my Dad. And I turn 30 this yr.
Before you email me a suicide hotline number or self-help book ad, take solace in David Wells. No, he’s not the Rocky, turn-it-all around story. He's no Rudy, either. I don’t have unrealistic, unholy expectations like that. But on May 17th, 1998, David Wells was perfect. Wells was a fat ass, under-achieving pitcher for the NY Yankees at the time. He was reputed to show up to games drunk and let his emotions get the best of him. I can relate.
On that one day he accomplished baseball perfection. 27 outs. No walks. No errors. He was perfect. I looked it up and it’s only been done 15 times in baseball history. We’re all living history right now, though. I have 3 interviews for Attending positions at private hospitals over the next 2 wks. If I was ever going to have my David Wells moment, this is it. Wish me luck, I'm gonna need it.
2 comments:
Congrats babe, I knew you could do it! No suprise to me.
Thanks, I appreciate, and probably need, your support. This can only mean good things for our family (By "family" I mean you, me and Spider the Pig).
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