John+Waldon


 * Genre Reflection #1**

I had been told to be wary of their lot. “They smell fear,” I’d heard.

“They wait to see one single throb of your jugular; then lunge unexpectedly,” others had said.

“Never, ever let your guard down.” //What the hell am I walking into?//

“They drink tears.” //WHAT? These are children//, I thought. //Surely everyone is exaggerating. It can’t be that bad. They are children, right?// I walked down the empty corridor to the room. No escorts. No guidance. “Last one on the left.” //Oh, my God! I’m in a Wes Craven movie!//

With every step I took forward, the hall stretched further away. Crumpled tests and lonely textbooks and chewed erasers and broken pencils – obviously victims of the “flipping game” – littered my path like refuse from some mad parade. Maniacal laughter echoed through the halls from an invisible room. The artificial light from overhead did nothing to outshine the feeling of darkness. The last strain of the laughter twisted away into the ether. I shuddered and wiped the sweat from my upper lip, but took a gulp of air, braced myself, and kept walking until I reached…the last room on the left.

When I walked through the door, I was greeted with an exuberant, “Hi! You must be John. I’m Mrs. P. Welcome to seventh grade!” The weight of the unknown cocoon that enshrouded me began to slough off and the cheerfulness of Mrs. P. at this dark and early hour slowly melted away the contrived gloom that clouded my thoughts.

“These kids are great,” she said. “I have a feeling you will enjoy your experience here.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sure I will.”

We talked over collating tests and I began to feel more at ease. Then the students began trickling in for homeroom one by one. None had fangs. None had bloodlust in their eyes. I stood before their throng and introduced myself and my purpose and my trepidation slowly faded. //These all look like good kids//, I thought. //They seem like really good kids//. I settled in to my desk and slowly exhaled my gulp of air I had been holding in.

A student named Jimmy came forward to have his “potty pass” signed so he could go to the restroom during class. Mrs. P. signed his pass and he left. She looked at me over her glasses. “You gotta watch that one,” she warned. “He can be - What’s a nice way to put it? – unruly.”

“Oh, o-o-okay,” I said.

“Yeah. And Jill can’t be left alone with adult males.”

I smiled and nodded like I understood what she was saying. I knew what she was saying, but I didn't understand it. I began to sweat.

“Oh, and Susie has a violent streak, so sometimes we just send her to the hall to cool down.”

“I see,” I said, my smile twitching to something less than a grin, but not yet a frown.

I felt my jugular begin to throb. Jimmy entered the room, staring me down like a wolf calculating the best angle of attack. I thrust my hand over the heart that was thumping in my neck, pretending to scratch an itch that wasn’t there, and smiled and nodded. He nodded back and took his seat. “So,” I began to ask nervously, “Is this the calm before the storm?”

“Let’s hope there’s no storm.” She looked at me over the top of her glasses again. “At least not this year.”

//These are children, right?//

John Waldon
 * Okay…this is almost completely fiction. I have truly enjoyed my experience so far. I couldn’t have asked for a better co-teacher and the kids really are great. There are a couple of kids who do have some issues, but that doesn’t make them bad kids. And the school has a wonderful custodial staff that keep the school spotlessly clean. Overall…great experience.

When I stepped up to the lectern for my first solo flight, I kept thinking about the long, lazy summer afternoons in southern Ohio at my grandparents' house listening to the Reds' games as Marty Brennaman and Joe Nuxhall's play-by-play crackling through the single-speaker transistor AM radio provided the background noise to my grandfather reading the Portsmouth Daily Times and my grandmother snapping fresh-from-the-garden green beans and my brother and I fighting over my uncles' old Lincoln Logs and Erector Sets in the living room floor. I could hear "The Ol' Left-Hander", Nuxhall, and "The Voice of the Cincinatti Reds", Brennaman, talking about the "seasoned" rookie stepping up to the mound:
 * Genre Reflection #2**

Brennaman: ...And rounding out the line-up, warming up, and making his major league debut - right-hander, John Waldon.

Nuxhall: Yes, Marty, Waldon has been around for quite some time, but this makes his first trip to the majors. He spent a couple of years in a Triple-A farm club, but that's been so long ago, I can't remember the squad.

Brennaman: I believe he spent two years in a Single-A franchise in North Georgia before being called up to a Triple-A club in Northeast Alabama, but then he just disappeared from the radar for nearly twenty years.

Nuxhall: This vet is no rookie. He showed a lot of promise early on, but then, as some would say, he gave it all up. Hit a rough patch.

Brennaman: Indeed he did. He gave up the game altogether for a number of years and took on a trade.

Nuxhall: I believe he became an electrician.

Brennaman: That's what I read, but now it looks like fate has intervened and he is more focused now. He had some impressive numbers in the minors -

Nuxhall: Yes, let's hope that skipper Sparky Anderson made the right choice with this one so late in the season.

Brennaman: Well, we're about to find out as the first batter makes his way to the plate. Here's the wind-up...and the delivery...Strike called on the first pitch from this old newcomer.

Nuxhall: Yes, you can tell that this one has focus. Just look at the concentration...

Brennaman: Here's the second pitch...Swing and a miss...Strike two...Let's hope the batters learn something from this guy today. Oh-and-Two with the first two pitches...

Nuxhall: Impressive start. And he does seem to have something to teach these potential hard-hitters.

Brennaman: The delivery...Just a bit outside for a called ball...One-and--Two.

Nuxhall: Marty, I'm beginning to think the other clubs might have underestimated the power of the will when it comes to Waldon.

Brennaman: I couldn't agree more he - Ball two...Two-and-Two - he does seem to show a lot of promise. Kind of off to a shaky start, but who wouldn't be in his position - Another swing and a miss...He struck him out! What a great display, let's hope nerves don't get the best of him.

Nuxhall: I've been watching his daily warm-ups, and it looks like I'm seeing the same pitcher out there when it counts. Right now.

Brennaman: Right now is definitely his time to shine if he wants to make a career out of this. The second batter steps up to the plate...Here's the wind-up...There's the pitch...swung-on and missed...Oh-and-One.

Nuxhall: Wow! I can't believe he swung at that one. That was down below the knees. He clearly misread Waldon's delivery. Good thing Waldon held it together. I don't think he can keep doing that, though.

Brennaman: No, he has got to focus more on - swung-on and chopped hard down the left field line, but it takes a bounce outside the line. Foul Ball. Oh-and-Two.

Nuxhall: That seemed to shake him up a bit.

Brennaman: Well, he has to learn that not every delivery will be - Down low. One-and-Two. He has to learn that not every delivery is going to land where he wants it. That's just the nature of the game...The pitch...Ball. Two-andTwo.

Nuxhall: You just have to shake it off. Learn from your mistakes and move on.

Brennaman: The delivery...Wild pitch! Bench misses...He's looking...The runner going...Bench scoops it up...fires to first...Not in time! Oh, my...

Nuxhall: Yeah, that's a tough one for this rookie. You can't make mistakes like that and not try to recover. Let's hope he does.

Brennaman: Yes, let's. The one thing you don't want to do with a rookie pitcher is judge what his career may be like after his first few pitches. Most learn from their mistakes. Let's hope Waldon does. I'd like to see him succeed.

Nuxhall: Anderson is trotting out to the mound...I'm sure just to calm him down.

Brennaman: While the skipper chats with Waldon, we'll pause for station identification here on the Cincinatti Reds' Radio Network.

That's kind of how it's been going...hits and misses. I'm trying not to let the misses be devastating and trying not to let the hits give me an ego. I'm just trying to learn and teach. I love it so far and I feel I have made the right decision on my career path.

"This one belongs to the Reds!" - Marty Brennaman

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ** Genre Reflection #3 ** This is a little ditty I wrote sung to the tune of – God has forgiven me, now I’m asking you to – "Tik Tok" by Ke$ha. Wake up in the morning and I start my race Get my shower, lather up – I’m fi’n to shave my face Before I leave, brush my teeth with my Oral B REACH ‘Cause when I leave for the day, I wan’ be ready to teach I’m talkin’ ‘bout – I gotta hit the road, road Sixty-five miles to go, go     Pedal pressed to the flo’, flo’ I’m dodgin’, some dude is try’n to tail me     I’m toppin’ out at 80 Try’n not to be there tardy… __ Chorus __ Don’t stop, make it pop Teacher, blow that lesson up     Today, there’s no play ‘til we see the light of day Tick-tock on the clock But the learnin’ don’t stop Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-ohhhhh Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-ohhhhh I got my lessons planned out, And the students are near I start to shake, I start to sweat, But they’re already here I lead the Daily Grammar Practice And I’m startin’ to stagger But then they answer right and I begin To think I got swagger I’m talkin’ ‘bout keepin’ their attention ‘til lunch, lunch They gotta learn a bunch, bunch “Will they pass?” well, I gotta hunch, hunch Now it’s kinda getting’ loud, loud Next door try’n to quiet us down, down CT startin’ to frown, frown CT startin’ to – __ Chorus 2x __ __ Bridge __ CT, you build me up     You break me down My heart, it pounds Yeah, you help me     With their hands up      They know it now Got the answer, now Yeah, they got it     CT you build me up      You break me down My heart, it pounds Yeah, you help me     Get their hands up      Get their hands up      Get their hands up      No, you don’t get credit until you turn it in. __ Chorus 2x __