It’s 8:02am on Sunday April 30th, 2017. So here’s the gist… my name is Tim Dillard. I’m a pitcher in my 15th professional baseball season, and currently in the Milwaukee Brewers organization with Triple-A Colorado Springs. I think that’s it. Oh yeah, I’ve been married for eleven years, and have three remarkable kids. A few months ago I was minding my own business, when MLB Trade Rumors asked if I was interested in baseball blogging. I asked if I could blog about movies instead, but they said no. So here we are… in the midst of my SEVENTH Inner Monologue.

8:05am Basically what I do is just write down my thoughts while logging the exact time. Not sure what typing in the time, and putting it in bold accomplishes. But I guess after the first time I did it, and nobody told me (to my face) that it was stupid… I just kept doing it.

8:07am Right now our team is in Des Moines, Iowa. Last night’s game against the Triple-A Cubs was postponed due to freezing temperatures, ice rain, hurricane-type wind, and lack of fans. Today we’re supposed to have a day game, but could possibly turn into a night game depending on weather.

8:08am Currently, I’m at the hotel trying to see how much I can type before my road-roomy vacates the bathroom.

8:09am When I was grabbing coffee earlier in the lobby, a gentleman asked the front desk lady if he could order room service. (We stay at some nice hotels in the minor leagues, but I can promise you… none of them have room service.)

8:11am Front desk lady was very polite when she told him they didn’t offer room service. Then the man said, “Well, I guess it is what it is.”

8:12am It is what it is? You ever hear people say that? First time I heard that expression was in 2007, and I’m still confused. It’s like saying, “Well, you know oxygen is oxygen.” OR “You win some, you lose some.” OR “How’s a rainbow made?” OR “I’m calmly showing my maturity by hiding my frustration and disappointment behind a fancy philosophical-sounding statement that doesn’t change my current circumstances.”

8:13am Well you know, baseball has a lot of interesting expressions too. Especially in the minor leagues. Such as:

“Wear it!”

“Skillets!”

“Clean it up!”

“Friends dues!”

“Save it meat!”

“Figure it out!”

“Have some feel!”

“There’s a window!”

“Hard in, soft away.”

“That GUY ’s in the SHOW!!??”

“Don’t like it? Play better!” (or play worse)

8:16am Anyway, I want to coin a NEW phrase in professional baseball. And for some reason I thought now is the perfect time to divulge this special saying to the entire world! (Or at least the few people who read this… thanks for reading mom!) And here it is: “Do Less.”

8:16am Yep, that’s it, that’s the big one. “Do Less.”

8:17am See, baseball is hard. But sometimes it can appear simple when watching it on TV or from the bleachers. For instance, the guy in the picnic area the other day who screamed, “Come on man! Watcha thinkin’ gettin’ picked off! I wouldn’t have gotten picked off! Put ME in, coach!”

8:18am In this particular case, the man had probably been drinking and was borderline unsober. And still has every right to yell his opinion, but I reiterate… baseball is hard.

8:18am Well during the game, in those most intense moments, players can sometimes feel the urge to dig deep or do more. Like when a hitter wants to swing EXTRA hard or run EXTRA fast. Or like a pitcher who wants to throw EXTRA hard or make a pitch EXTRA nasty. But usually the opposite happens. More often than not, the hitter misses, or breaks his bat, or pulls a hamstring. And the pitcher, he usually throws a wild pitch or hangs a fun ball right down broadway.

8:19am Do Less… just watch, it’ll be a thing.

8:20am However, the most important thing about baseball sayings is knowing which one to use, and knowing when to use it. I learned this lesson May 23, 2008.

8:20am I was in Washington D.C., warming up in the visitors left-field bullpen, when the door opened. Suddenly it dawned on me that just beyond the Nationals’ outfield grass and infield dirt, was my Major League Baseball debut!

8:21am All I was thinking as I jogged out to the mound in front of 40,000 people, was… “Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.”

8:21am Thankfully, without tripping, I managed to make it to the mound where veteran catcher Jason Kendall was waiting for me. When he started double-checking my pitches and my signs, I was thinking about how many baseball cards I had of him growing up.

8:22am Then he pulled his mask back down, turned to run back to the plate, and quickly said, “Here we go.”

8:23am And for some unknown reason, I felt the need to say something back to him. So out of all the words and phrases I know, my brain thought it’d be a good idea to intensely scream, “OK! LET’S DO THIS!” (and yelled it like I was wearing giant headphones)

8:23am It was enough for Jason Kendall to kinda stop, look back with a puzzled face, then continue his jog back behind the dish.

8:24am All alone, standing there, on that mound, I spoke out loud, “Did I just tell… Jason Kendall… let’s do this!?”

8:25am I felt very uncool in that moment. Why would I say something so cheesy? Why am I so awkward!

8:25am And I’m pretty sure he told the home plate umpire what I said too, ’cause the whole time I was throwing my first major league warm-up pitches, the umpire was chatting with Jason Kendall then pointing at me and laughing.

8:27am I still don’t know how it all happened, but… I guess it is what it is.

8:27am Ah! Think I just heard a toilet flush.

To Be Concluded…