That “Left Field” Experience…

American jargon is filled with slightly awkward references to baseball, that sounds very bizarre when used here.  I was at a conference last week listening to a Brit talking about “stepping up to the plate” which he clearly had no idea what he was saying.  It is a term or urgency and responsibility in American business which refers to baseball batters who have to step up to that funny sort of rectangular piece of rubber called “home plate” to take one’s turn at bat to try to score points.  It has no parallel in real English.  Another is the saying “out of left field”, which is also a baseball expression.  So, it is the part of the field the batter sees to the left of his vision which is the “left field”.  It is so large that, if you can hit it there, there is virtually no chance of being caught or put “out”.  So when Americans talk about something being “out of left field”, they mean that there is no present possibility in the real world of a possibility ever turning into an actuality.

Occurrences like this are at the heart of the emotional abuse of parental alienation.  Fathers and daughters have special spiritual bond, I am convinced that it is something that God Himself created.  Sydney’s mother, Meg Allen, had little to do with Sydney in her first 7 years of being on this earth.  She was antiseptically delivered by C-Section in the private suite at Frimley Park Hospital and brought home to the waiting nanny Kelly who looked after Sydney’s every need 24/6, Meg had to do nothing, and did nothing.  The one who was actually there was me.  I taught her how to ride a bike, how to swim, how to count, how to read, and a thousand other things.  I bought her “piggy” which I assume she sleeps with to this day…  I read her the story every night, and I was the one who was there when she was sick.  The possibility that she could be surgically removed from my life was so “out of left field”, that I never factored it in as a possibility.

Clearly Sydney’s mother Meg fully understood this, and the strength of effort to alienate Sydney from me was proportionate to that understanding.  Curiously, I had watched Meg totally and utterly destroy a woman in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan (I just can’t remember her name now…) about 5 years earlier, and we had several rows over the intensity of her total destruction of this woman.  So, if you have a wife (or husband) who has a sociopathic tendency to humiliate and destroy others, be very careful, because that will be turned on you, and they will stop at nothing to destroy you.

The first and only time Sydney was taken to the High Court (early 2007) the Judge asked her who she wanted to live with, to which she exclaimed, “My Daddy”.  The Judge asked her why, and she just blurted out: Because my mommy beats me…  The judge almost fell off the bench, which was a sight in itself…  The Judge then sent Sydney out with a Social Services worker and then she was squired out of the court by one of Meg’s best friends Nicki Bogle to a Starbucks when the Social Services worker had her back turned.  I had no idea that Meg had assembled a stout group of women to help her in the abuse process.  These women had no qualms about destroying me.  They had no beef with me, but they just loved the entertainment and drama of it all…  The Judge of course drummed in the nearest CAFCASS agent and demanded that they get right on this and find out about this physical abuse and fix it right now, followed closely by the Social Services woman who announced to the Judge that Sydney was gone.  The Judge was rantingly upset with Meg, who just shrugged it off and made a call and gave the Judge the location.  I should have noticed right then what the real problem would be.  She gave the Judge the 2 finger salute and left with her lawyers, the most prolific divorce lawyer firm in London.  Their response was to fire her, this was the same response that 4 sets of lawyers had…

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