My baseball weekend

So we finally got to take to the diamond and play some ball this weekend.

First, a little backgrounder: Last year I joined a newly formed men’s baseball league in the city -- organized for guys who aren’t interested in the beer-sponsored/slugfest softball leagues. Guys who simply enjoy the national past time and want to have fun playing it. But, since I joined the league as an individual and not with a pre-formed team, I was basically placed on a team of leftovers. It seemed fine enough at first, but as the season wore on, our coach was clearly a terrible manager. He was putting his own interests before the team’s, pitching guys until their arms gave out, playing guys in positions they had no right playing, not to mention playing guys that didn’t deserve to be on the field, all while decent, skilled and smart players sat on the bench. … We finished the season with one win and so many losses we stopped counting them.

After the season ended last September, one of my teammates, Tom, and I started conspiring to form a new team. We knew there were other players on our team who considered the season a disaster, and we knew there was potential to construct a competitive team with some of those players forming our nucleus. We started talking up the possibilities, promised better management, and before we knew it Tom and I had lured six key players from that original team to form the new team with us. With their help we recruited five more guys, including two pitchers with what could be the best stuff in the league …

Last year, our team name was the Sox -- a name picked by our then-coach, a White Sox fanatic. This year, we set things straight and we’re calling ourselves the Cubs, which was only fair since most of us are Cubs fans anyway … We had team meetings in January and by February we were practicing in a rented warehouse. For weeks, we spent our Saturday nights taking batting practice from a pitching machine, hitting into nets and throwing from a practice mound. More importantly we were building the kind of camaraderie and chemistry that was absent from last year’s team.

So fast forward to Saturday, our first competition of the season, a scrimmage against a new team in the league. Interestingly, the opponent was this year’s “leftovers.” Even more amusing, the team included last season’s Sox coach, because we snared more than half of his players to form the Cubs and no one else wanted to come back and play for him this year.

Watching our team take infield practice -- dressed in our practice Cubs jerseys and looking sharp -- was a breath of fresh air. We were nearly flawless as we warmed up. People were talking to each other, communicating and keeping their focus -- and if you’re a baseball player, you know how important that is. All the bad vibes and negative feelings about last season were erased the moment we stepped on that field.

As the game got underway, we played as the home team and took the field first. Another positive change from last season -- I got to start at shortstop. Last year, I was lucky if I got into play a couple innings at right field. On Saturday, I played the first half of the game at short, fielding a couple balls there, before moving to center for the second half.

Our opponent managed to score a couple runs in the top half of the first while we settled in and worked through what little nerves we had. Then we came up in the bottom half of the first and took over the game … Our leadoff batter got on with a walk. Then I took the box second, drew a walk of my own and promptly stole second base.

We had decided as a team before the game that we were going to play small ball and experiment as much as we could. So I had to be ready for anything when a couple batters later, with the score 1-0, we had the bases loaded and I was sitting on third base with two outs. With my back to the third base coach, I never caught the sign, but when I saw the batter square up to bunt, I had no choice but to put my head down and run home. The batter laid down a perfect bunt that rolled slowly toward the pitcher’s mound. Both the pitcher and the catcher went after it, leaving home plate abandoned and I scampered across the plate untouched … It was a beautiful play, and we completed the inning with a 6-2 lead.

But we went quietly through the middle innings -- I struck out -- while the opponent inched back and eventually took a 7-6 lead.

In our half of the sixth, we vowed to rally. We tied the score, and I came up with one out and the go-ahead run on third base. If the first pitch was in the zone, I was swinging. The pitch did come in, but I didn’t get all of it and grounded out to the shortstop. But the go-ahead run scored.

If we could hold ‘em in the top half of the seventh, the game would be over. We got one quick out, but they weren’t letting us go easily and they put the tying run on third base. Our pitcher notched a strikeout to get the second out and proceeded to battle with the next batter for that third out. He fired pitch after pitch. And then, out of nowhere, our catcher fired down to third base. The runner was caught completely off guard as our third baseman caught the throw and tagged the runner.

The game was our’s -- 8-7. With one game, we had tied our win total from last year. And our confidence was overflowing.

We officially open the league’s season under the lights on Monday, May 14.

* * *

After Saturday’s game, Kates and I took off to spend the rest of the weekend with my parents.

We had some of Dad’s famous burgers off the grill Saturday night, and then went to the high school for a performance of “Grease,” which Kates and I concluded was the worst musical production we’d ever seen … The acting was awful, the singing was uninspired, 4-year-olds could have done the choreography and Kates and I were dreading the token standing ovation when it ended.

Then, on what proved to be a gorgeous Sunday afternoon, we were off to Miller Park for the Astros-Brewers game …

We arrived at the stadium more than two hours before game time, giving us plenty of time to walk around the park, taking in the scenery, statues and historic markers. As usual, I was snapping unless pictures, and now I had Dad to join me -- he was so proud of his digital camera and delighting in discovering the advantages of digital photography …

When the gates opened, we were among the first to walk into the stadium. The reason: The day’s promotional item was an album commemorating the 1982 AL Champion Brewers. But what we didn’t realize was the item was only an album. To make it worthwhile, you have to clip a coupon from the Journal Sentinel every day for the next 23 days, take the coupon to a retail location and exchange it for a silver coin to commemorate each of 23 select Brewers on that ‘82 team. Oh yeah, and each coin is $2.99. But I’m such a rabid collector, I’ll probably do it anyway …
As for the game, it was The Bill Hall, Geoff Jenkins and Dave Bush Show. Hall went 3-for-4 with a single, homerun and a double; Jenkins went 3-for-4 with a single and two doubles. Dave Bush was lights out for eight innings; he gave up three hits and struck out seven. And, oh the defense -- it seemed like every ground ball was hit to Craig Counsell at third base, and Counsell turned out after out …

Then came the ninth. Bush tired out. The Astros notched a couple doubles, a walk and pretty soon it was 4-3. Ned Yost pulled Bush for Francisco Cordero with no outs. But Cordero promptly gave up a walk to Carlos Lee. He struck out Luke Scott, but then Morgan Ensberg singled, Adam Everett drew a walk and wah-la, the bases were loaded …

Ah, but this is a different Brewers team we’re talking about this year. The Crew pulled together; Cordero struck out Orlando Palmeiro and then got Craig Biggio to ground out to first. Brewers win, and hand Astros starter Roy Oswalt his first loss of the season …

* * *

After waiting out the traffic at Miller Park with a few sandwiches, Kates and I parted ways with Mom and Dad and headed home ...

Then it was time for Sunday Night Baseball. Yankees-Red Sox. Aw yeah.

The Red Sox won the game 7-6, but that's barely a piece of the story.

The Sox were down 3-0 in the third inning with Yankees rookie lefthander Chase Wright on the mound. And there were already two out and nobody on when Manny Ramirez stepped up the plate ...

With a 2-1 count, he launched one over the wall in left center field. The Red Sox were on the board, 3-1.

Next up, J.D. Drew. He ran up a 1-2 count and then he knocked a homerun. The Red Sox are down 3-2.

Next up Mike Lowell. And I'm thinking, man this would be cool if he could hit a homerun too.

He did it.

Now the fans in Fenway are going crazy. The announcers are talking about it. And it's not over ...

Jason Varitek swung at the first pitch he saw from Wright and sent it over the left field wall. I shot up from the couch, hooping, hollering and clapping ... and then ran up the stairs to tell Kates about one of the most unbelievable and finest things I'd seen in all my years of watching baseball.

Game #4

As Mom & Pops returned this weekend to help us finish off the deck construction, I had to leave them again for my Sunday ball game … too bad, because we were so close to finishing it. I actually contemplated not playing in the game.

Confidence is a funny thing. … I’d been playing well in practice. But in the games, I’ve been feeling like I’m not contributing worth -- well, you know.

But I went. And as we warmed up I was feeling good. Arm felt good. Batting cage felt good. Looked good in the field too.

Twelve guys showed up, though, which meant three of us would be sitting for at least the first half, and I was one of those three. Although this time, I at least got to bat the whole game.
I got a little pick-me-up too when I spotted my friend Liz had come to watch … It made me feel good when she said she admired me for playing in a hardball league versus softball. It made me feel even better when she told me later she overheard a couple of my teammates talking about me while I walked to the plate, saying, ‘Yeah, he’s little, but he can hit …’

Sure, I’d been doing it in practice. Now, I finally got to show ‘em in a game.

I batted for the first time in the third, and from what I had gathered, the guy on the mound appeared as hittable as anyone I’d faced so far. But with a runner on first and only one out as I came to the plate, Marcus told me to bunt.

Fine. I’m a team player.

The pitcher went through his wind up and tossed a pitch that was a little low, but right over the plate. I squared around and knocked a slow roller back to the pitcher. The runner advanced, while the pitcher threw me out. And the sac bunt had worked.

The good news was that the runner, and a couple others, scored to give us a good lead. …But I still griped a bit to Marcus at the end of the inning. ‘I can hit this guy,’ I said. He understood and reminded me it was for the team. Yeah, yeah.

I continued on the bench, although I also found myself becoming a more outspoken cheerleader than I had been in past games.

… Then in the bottom of the fifth, I got my chance at the plate again. This time, there’s one out and a runner on second base. As I step to the plate, I see the first base coach give the bunt sign to Marcus, who’s still coaching Third.

You’ve GOT to be kidding me.

Yep. Marcus gives me the bunt sign again. I just looked and sort of rolled my eyes. Then he puts his hands up as if to tell me to settle down and, of course, do it for the team. … So again. I stepped up. The pitcher went through his wind up and tossed a pitch almost identical to the last one I bunted. The ball jumped off the bat a little higher that I would’ve liked but floated off toward the third base side and dropped in front of the pitcher. He threw me out at first, and the runner advanced. And later scored.

My teammates kidded me as I came back to the dugout from another sacrifice bunt, but they also made me feel good about doing what I had to do and laying down some good bunts. … After the inning was over, I again met Marcus coming off the field. He apologized profusely, while I joshed him about making me bunt again. … The coolest part of it, though, was we were able to throw our arms around each other and laugh about it. Both bunts had worked for the better. My confidence was up. And it was all for our team, which was finally winning, 8-4
In the bottom of the seventh inning, I stepped to the plate once more with the umpire looking at me and saying, ‘Oh, not you again. You’re getting you’re bunting practice in today, man.’ … then I look down the line at Marcus, who’s got a big grin on his face and giving me the sign to swing away.

Thank God.

I immediately got three pitches far out of the strike zone and worked to a 3-0 count. But after taking a really good 3-0 strike last week, I’d made up my mind that I was swinging it looked good. … And that’s what happened. I slapped a hard ground ball to the third baseman, and then beat his throw to first base. … My first hit of the season.

Marcus gave me the steal sign on the ensuing pitch, but I didn’t get a good jump off of first, not to mention there was a left-hander on the mound. Watching the second baseman’s reaction, I thought I was going to have second swiped. But he caught the throw to his left and barely got the tag on me as I tried sliding underneath. …Dirt from head to toe.

I got into right field for the eighth and ninth innings, but other than backing up a couple plays, didn’t get the ball hit to me. … Still, we made some more of the stupid errors that took us out of our first three games, and the opponents tied it up 8-8 as we headed back in for the bottom half of the eighth.

We weren’t going down so easy though. We should’ve beaten these guys in the first game and we’d played too well today to let another slip away. We got two runs across and went back into the field for the ninth with the 10-8 lead.

Two hard ground balls to the shortstop and a line drive to the third baseman. A six-pitch ninth inning and we were done. Our first win … the way we jumped and celebrated, you might have thought we’d won the division.

Oh, it was bliss. We got an excellent outing from our pitcher -- he pitched a complete game. We played as a team. We committed few errors, and everyone was more supportive and having more fun than any of the previous three games. Confidence -- and team play -- is a funny thing.

So, for the record: We’re now 1-3. And I’m batting .200 in five official at-bats (eight plate appearances) with one single, one walk, two strikeouts, two sacrifice bunts and one run scored.

The season
Game one ... we lost, 19-9
Game two ... we lost, 11-5 ... or something like that.
Game three ... we lost, 8-5
Game four ... we won, 10-8

Shaping up

I haven't felt this good in a long time. Physically, I mean.

For the last several weeks, I've been hitting the basketball court at the college. ... The first night out was all about working the rust off, as expected. I probably hadn't shot a basketball in three, four years.

But after last night, I think it's safe to declare my basketball game back on track.

Excuse me while I gloat a bit.

I was hitting my shots in warm-ups and had a feeling I was about to have a good night. I soon got into a pickup game, playing well and hitting a three-pointer in the first game. Our team won, hitting 25 -- by ones -- faster than the opponent.

But I wasn't done.

The team I was playing with next hooked up against a group of stocky black guys who looked as though they'd have a better shot on the football field than the basketball court. Nonetheless, the game got underway and I matched up with a shorter guy, about my height. ... And I realized quickly that I could challenge him under the basket.

Soon, I was driving up against these guys and alternating my shots in the air -- a la Michael Jordan, thank you very much ... I was blocking 'em out, snatching rebounds from 'em, and shooting some swell lead passes to my teammates. … I couldn’t believe how 'on' I was!

Making it even sweeter, my burly opponents began joshing with me. ‘Watch for that little guy, he's strong! He don't look that strong!’ they'd tell each other. …It was HA-larious and I was eating up every minute of it.

I ended up playing for almost two and a half hours, and it felt sooooo good.

But I still wasn't done.

Today was the baseball workout for the upcoming adult men's baseball season.

First up, ground balls. We each got five hit to us and we had to throw from third to first. Other than a bloop fly ball that I couldn’t get back on, and a couple of low throws, I showed up well.

Round two was fly balls. I did pretty good there too, but still let a couple get over my head.

Round three: hitting. If anything I did attracted some eyes today, it was my batting practice. ... I've never been a power hitter. But I am good at making contact, and today was no different. I spread the field with hard ground balls and slapshot line drives. And I walked from the batter's box feeling pretty content.

In the three-hour practice, I competed well with the other 40-some guys who truly have a passion for baseball. And I couldn't be more excited about playing the game again this summer after stumbling through a couple softball stints and having to deal with the ego-maniac, beer-guzzling, clique-y hotheads that permeate the leagues I found.

And on Monday, my company begins its annual corporate challenge -- a month-long challenge and competition of exercising and fitness activities.

I'm pumped.

The week that was ...

Here comes the weekend .... yes!

Last night Kates and I, with our friends Liz and Emily took to Marquette University to see the great funnyman Mo Rocca ... A huge fan of VH1's quirky, pop culture-filled 'I Love the ...' series, yes, this was one of those dream-come-true/once-in-a-lifetime experiences I cherish ....

Mo is currently on a tour of the country's college campuses to profess his knowledge of 'The Gamekillers ' -- the 14 types of men, who prevent 'innocent young males' from 'locking down some tail.' (You can read more on the official Web site or the preview story from the 'Marquette Tribune')

The show was comical, but -- with me and my groupies being in committed relationships -- probably not as entertaining as it was to the whoopin' and hollerin' Marquette coeds surrounding us. Heck, we all just wanted to see Mo. And the highlight, of course, was Liz and I getting to shake hands with Mo and chat him up a little bit afterward. Nice guy.

* * *
Ok, so I've been on a big Coldplay kick this week. Part of it's likely my introspective mood the last several days. Part of it's stemming from a preview I wrote earlier this week for a show coming here in a couple weeks. Part of it's me in mourning the unseized opportunity to get tickets to that show (not to mention, a Ben Folds show in the area next weekend ...could've been my ninth meeting with B.F., but Coldplay would've been a first ...). Not to mention, Coldplay seemed to be everywhere I turned this week. The aforementioned preview story. In my car. The 'Fix You' video I plopped on the sidebar of this site. And on this week's episode of 'Scrubs.' ... OK, so most of it was my doing ...

* * *
Speaking of Coldplay, my boss officially put the ke-bosh this week on me listening to my iPod as I worked. I tried arguing that I only used it for a couple hours a day, mostly to help me keep my concentration and write stories, among all the other distractions, and that it wasn't bothering anyone else ... he didn't see it that way.

Dang it.

... it was a good run while it lasted.

* * *
The other night I joined a new affiliate of the adult men's baseball league. Finally!

So sick of the hotheads, beer monkeys and can't-get-over-the-fact-they're-not-major-leaguers guys that fill the city softball leagues, another guy stepped up to the plate and is forming teams in our city ...

I read a story in the morning paper about the league, went to the organizational meeting that night and signed up -- it's gonna make my summer. Games start in May and will be played every Sunday.

Finally, a bunch of guys who share the same passion as me and I can play with on a consistant basis ...

Now I just have to get myself in shape ...

* * *
So I DVR'd the first games of the World Baseball Classic early Friday morning and then watched some of them in my free time yesterday and today ...

The games were good. But it was more entertaining to listen to the American broadcasters repeatedly saying names like Young Soo Bae, Byung Doo Jun, Jae Hun Chung and Min Han Son ...