Rained Out

Bummer.

Gametime!

The lineup has been posted, and I'm back in the 8-hole, and again playing 2B.
There's a massive line of thunderstorms bearing down on the region; there's a chance we're going to be rained out, or the fields may be washed out.

I have to miss Thursday's game (direct conflict with a game of Charlie's), so tonight's my only shot at glory for the week.

It seems like forever since we've had a game; I guess the long weekend will do that to you. First pitch is at 8:30, central daylight time. I think it's being broadcast nationally on ESPN, but check your local listings.

Sweeter (Actual) Victory

Wow, was THAT a great game last night, or what??

We've been in a rut of those beautiful Chicago spring thunderstorms, and there was a very good chance that the game was going to be stormed out last night. But it in fact turned into a beautiful, clear, warm (if slightly muggy) evening and the field, while wet and muddy in places, was certainly playable.

I'm not one much for recounting an accurate play-by-play of the game, primarily because that kind of detail is for the most part lost on my memory. So you'll have to be contented with a general recap, a broad brushstroke from which you can glean the atmosphere, punctuated by highlights starring . . . me.

My first at-bat, which I believe came in the top of the second, did not start well.
I was trying to remember to just relax and let the bat do the work, and to just put a nice, smooth stroke on the ball.

I watched the pitch sail in. It was kind of high. I waited . . . waited . . . and then made a too-late, lunging, over-my-head abortion of a swing, missing it by a mile.
Now, adult slow-pitch softball tends to foster an atmosphere in which open, free communication is encouraged. By which I mean to say there is constant, if good-natured, trash-talking.

Which makes the eerie silence immediately following that swing all the more pronounced. There was a beat, in which nobody said a word, each person trying to comprehend the true ugliness we had all just witnessed. Then, from my bench, an unnamed voice said, "What the hell was THAT?"

Another beat.

Then, in response, again from my own bench, "That was the ugliest swing I have ever seen."

A flash of panic, but then on the next pitch, I made a clean rip (aided by an E-6) which was generously scored a hit. 1 for 1.

Next AB was a genuine hit. I think. Maybe I'm getting out of order. But I poked one good knock through, getting an RBI.

My third at-bat was a very weak pop-up to the left side of the infield. But I ran it out, and it dropped. Three for three.

Unfortunately, my last at-bat was an even weaker popup, which was caught for my only out of the evening. Still, 3-4 on the night. Raising my batting average a whole nother 100 points. After game six, I was a miserable, pathetic .167. After game seven, I was up to a still pathetic .267. And now, after last night, I've raised it to .368, a decent number in the majors, but still among the bottom-third on the team. That being said, another 3-4 in the next game will get me over .400, which I can live with.

I just looked at my season, and maybe it's my fallable memory, or maybe I've blocked it out, but through the first six games, I had a total, a total of two hits. Yikes. And now I've gone five-for-seven in the last two games. That's a good sign, right?

And, as I've been saying all along, I'm primarily a glove man, anyway. I shouldn't be counted on for the power.

In the field, I again started at second base, and Chris (the erstwhile manager/captain) has seemingly locked certain guys in certain positions, so I should be the second bagger for the duration. Steve (the shortstop) and I are comfortable with each other around the bag, and seem to be handling the covering/cutoff duties satisfactorily.

Again, it's only due to injuries that we're keeping a one-body to one-position ratio. We should get 2 or 3 guys back in the next couple of games, possibly pushing some of us "starters" back onto the bench. Jason, our other 2B, has been subbing at catcher while Art's been out. Of course, if Art doesn't come back, Jason may take on the role of regular catcher, and I'll get even more stability at 2B. The guys coming back don't have set spots, so it will be interesting to see how Chris fits them in.

Anyway I made all of the routine plays which, in slow-pitch, basically means a lot of cutoffs from the deep outfield on balls that were rocked. The real excitement came in our final inning in the field, the bottom of the sixth.

Larry, good ole' in-his-own-head Larry the Pitcher, had it going last night. The talking to the ball was kept to a minimum, and he was getting the balls up and out there, and our opponants were, as a team, hackers. So not too many walks.
Until the last inning, when he started tightening up, knowing the game - and our win - was on the line, and he put a couple of guys on base.

We were up by a few - 4 maybe? - and with a couple on and two out, there was a hard shot up the third base line. With the ball to the left side and a man on first, it was my job to cover the second base bag. Which I did. But the third baseman put a bad throw on it, and I missed it. Looking back, I should have gotten off the bag and made sure of stopping the ball, even if it meant missing the out, but I tried to stretch and the ball scooted out into right field, scoring a couple.

A couple of batters later, the lead was two, and the tying run was on base. Same play - a grounder to the third baseman. I again covered the bag, and he again put the throw in the dirt. This time, however, I dug it out, keeping my foot on the bag, and - on a bang-bang play - we got the out.

Game.
Over.

That was a great way to end a good night. Pats on the back all around, and I actually felt like I contributed to the win, both at the plate and in the field.

Unfortunately, our team record is still a sad 3-5. But it should be 4-4, and could easily be 5-3. We're a much better team now than at the start of the season (when we were really more of a collection of guys than a "team") . . . and we have a good shot of finishing the season over .500, which - I think - will be the best finish ever by a Park District team.

Anyway, we have a better shot of getting to .500 than the Cubs do.

Sweet (Moral) Victory

Despite my negative prediction last night, I headed over to the game fairly optimistic about getting playing time, and probably starting. With only 12 unhurt guys on the roster (with 10 starting each game), there was a good chance that somebody wouldn't show and I'd get the nod.

That's precicely what happened, and I started the game at 2nd base, hitting in the 8-hole.

9:30 is really too late to be STARTING a game.

Well, that's not exactly true.

But 10:40 is too late to be ENDING a game, especially if you're going out for root beer floats after the game. Which puts you home at 12:30. When you get up at 5:30 for work the next morning. Which makes you kinda tired while you're at work.

We were up against Team Rolling Rock, who are the class of the Park District Rec league. They're undefeated, and have been tending to blow out the opposition. So the mood on the Translative Dick Ripplers (us) was not good going into the game. We got two in the first (I did not bat), but then the siege started. They got 6 or 7 in the first, and the same in the second. After three innings, we were down 14-7, and I was my usual droll self, chirping around the infield that all we needed to do was to score a touchdown and get the 2-point conversion and we'd have the lead.

I'm freaking hilarious.

I'm not exactly sure what the score was after 4, but we were down by 9, I think. I just remember we needed to hold them without scoring and then score at least one run to avoid having the mercy rule enacted upon us. (If you're down by so many runs after so many innings, they'll end the game to put you out of your mercy. It's not good.)

But we scored the one run. And then two. And then a whole slew more . . . 10 in the inning, to be exact. (I came to bat TWICE in the inning, and got on base both times. Details to follow.)

We actually entered the next inning, the last inning, with a 1-run lead and a chance to upset the mighty Rolling Rocks. It was a beautiful thing.

Larry . . . Larry was our pitcher last night. He's a great guy, and he tries soooo hard when he's pitching. He tries way too hard. He tries to steer the ball in there, and you just can't do that. He had some . . . issues with walks during the game, and that hurt us in the long run.

Suffice it to say, it was a winnable game for us, and it shows we can actually play with the big boys.

We lost by one.

I started and played the whole game at second base, which has become my "set" position. It doesn't have quite the glamor of shortstop, but it's a middle-infield position, and Ryne Sandberg was a second baseman, and if it's good enough for Ryno, it's good enough for me, damn it. I actually got some props on my playing second, so that's a good thing.

Highlights in the field last night: Got a couple of great feeds from Steve (at short) to get some put-outs at the bag. Turned a DP, almost got another. He made one really nice feed to me, well-timed and well-placed after he made a great stab deep in the hole.
Unfortunately, there was no runner on first, so it was wasted.

I also caught a liner, ended an inning catching a high pop fly to shallow left field, and made a perfect clean scoop on a grounder, throwing the runner out at first.

I had a good day in the field.

And . . . at the plate?
First at-bat: sharp single through the left side. RBI. Made it around and scored a run.
Second at-bat: Hard liner, but right to the third baseman. Downer.
Third plate appearance: Walk
Fourth plate appearance: Solid liner to left field, scored a single but I took second base on a throw in to third. Came around and scored that time, too.

Ended up 2-3 with a walk, 2 runs scored, 2 RBI. Raised my batting average by a hundred points. Which is not saying much, as it's still below .300, which is downright pathetic in slow-pitch softball. But it's a start. Another couple of games like that, and I'll be just fine.
The important part was getting up there and feeling good at the plate, and getting it done.
I don't know what the future holds for me; despite the struggles at the plate, I fancy myself one of the more athletic guys on the team, and one with the "ballplayer" mentality. I tend to know where to go on each play, when I should be cutting off a ball, where the second baseman should rotate on a dribbler to first, when I cover second and when I backup first . . .

There are some guys on the team who . . . are less at ease with these baseball-oriented details. (I may be flattering myself; maybe I'm as clueless as they are. But at least I look like I know what I'm doing, and that's half the battle right there.) I hope I get more playing time, but, again, when you have 14-15 guys on a team in which you can only field 10, there are going to be some times you're riding the pine.

It's all good.

Next game is 7:30 tomorrow. We'll see if skip pencils me in.

Benched

Just got the starting lineup for tonight.
I'm on the bench. Substitute 2B.

That's fair, I guess. It's what I deserve.

Still, bums me out.

I'll just hope I get in, get a couple of knocks, and earn my way back to the starting linuep.
Right?

You know what's worse . . . ?

Do you know what's more lame than being called out on strikes in slow-pitch softball?

Being a slow-pitch softball UMPIRE.

I mean, I'm not one of those guys who consider the beer-league softball game a level below triple-A ball. It's recreational. It's a chance for fat, old, out-of-shape guys to get out there and pretend to be Nomar (give or take a chicken-leg-strained-groin) for an hour.
I don't take it too seriously. You can't.

But an UMPIRE?
In a blue shirt, gray sans-a-belt slacks, and everything.

Whoa.

And, not to pile on, but do you know what's even more lame than being a slow-pitch softball umpire?

The SCOREKEEPER.
Yep. There's a guy there, scorebook in hand, recording every run, hit, and out.

Gosh, I hope they're paid well.

Whoa (1-4)

I had an absolutely horrific game on Tuesday.
Like, unbelievably bad.
My OPS has dipped to almost Neifi Perez-like depths.

I struck out.
In slow-pitch softball.
I struck out.

I ripped two balls, fairly hard, but right at the third baseman, who snagged them both for outs. (The second one, teammates called out, "Call the cops, 'cause you got robbed!")

My third time up, I decided to try to work a walk. I was up there taking, all the way. With a full count, the payoff pitch was inside, but the umpire knew I was not taking the bat off my shoulder, and I don't think they really value the base on balls in slow-pitch.
So I got rung up.

It stung. Badly.

That is the longest walk you'll face, my friends. The walk back to the bench after getting the backwards K with a couple of guys on base.



On a lighter note, Charlie absolutely tore it up on Monday night in his coach-pitch game. He went 5-5 with 5 runs scored, and made a couple of really slick plays in the field.
Highlight of that game (and of the family's week on the diamond) was a towering fly ball he hit to straightaway center, over the center fielder's head. Stand-up double.
It was huge.

Way to go, Charlie Hustle!

Sweet Victory (1-3)

Yes, that's right. You read correctly.
The mighty Naperville Park District has won a game!

We went out on Tuesday night and played sizzling defense and put together some strong offensive rallies, scoring multiple runs in more than one inning.

My own role in the powerhouse scoring was negligible; I did not get on base, although I hit a couple of balls hard, they went right to fielders. And as I kept coming to bat with men on base, it was usually an easy flip from the fielder to the closest base to force the runner.

In the field, though . . . my glory.

I played alternate innings at second base. In the first, I sat out, and Jason, my platoon partner, was eaten alive by a fierce ground ball that he could do nothing with. I'm glad I was on the bench for that one.

However, in the second, I fielded a sharp grounder and threw out the runner at first.
Later in the inning, with a runner on first, there was a very hard liner hit to my right; I snagged it for one out, and then doubled the runner off first. Boom boom. Inning over, thanks to Thomas Anthony.

In the fourth, I got - and handled - another grounder for another force at first.

We went into the fifth inning with an 8-3 lead, and Jason waved me into the field, even though it was his inning. I think out of deference to my fielding. It's not unheard of for a team to score 5+ runs in an inning, and all we had to do was to hold them to secure our first win.

So I was on the field when we wrapped up victory #1.
NOW we're rolling.

Game 4 Preview

I don't know what to say in advance of our battle tonight against the aptly-named NaperVillains.
They're 1-1, which means - in concept - they can be beaten. As to whether the mighty NPD can defeat them . . . I'm less sure.
I've been penciled in as the #7 hitter. EH/2B.

Second base I'm fine with. Steve, the other middle-infielder, is back for this game, and he's taking duties at short tonight. Which is fine. He's solid.

But I'm also "Extra Hitter" - which is the slow-pitch equivalent of the designated hitter, which I despise. So, I'll be playing alternate innings in the field. Which is fine, I guess. Again, it's the price you pay for having too many players. It's not like I'm a gold-glove caliber fielder out there. I don't know . . . I guess I feel a certain added pressure to come through at the plate when I have EH next to my name. It's as if they consider me to be so good that they had to invent a position to get my bat in the lineup.

Health-wise, my legs feel back to about 80% now, which is as good as could be expected. (They were down to about 25% over the weekend, so this is a real improvement.)
My hand/wrist issue is still somewhat painful, and I'm afraid I might exacerbate something tonight. We'll see. There's no game on Thursday, so I'll have a full week of recovery time after tonight's loss-- er, I mean game.

It's not whether you win or lose . . . (0-3)

Well, the mighty NPD got steamrollered again. I lost track when the lead got to double-digits. But it felt like we played a lot better than Tuesday night. I certainly did.
I'm off the schnide, collecting a couple of hits, including a hard-hit RBI double in the second inning. Legged out an infield single in my next at-bat, with my blazing speed.

Then I was caught in an absolutely baffling run-down, which - after lengthy explanation from the umpire and a much lengthier conversation among the teammates - I just might understand what happened.

Here's the situation:
Bases loaded. No outs. I'm on first.
Next batter popped up to third base. The ump did not call infield fly, but the runner ahead of me, on second, assumed that it was and did not advance. I went half way, to see if the ball would be caught, but the third baseman made an attempt but dropped the ball. I was in the process of scampering back to first, as it looked like he was going to catch it, but the batter, who legged it out, was standing on first and he and the first base coach (yes, we have base coaches) were screaming at me to advance. I went back to second and tried to physically push the runner, still standing on second, to clear the bag for me. He was yelling at me to get back, and so I, once again, ran halfway back to first before being screamed at - again by the two guys at first - to advance. Meanwhile, the third baseman picked up the ball and stepped on third, forcing out our runner who was STILL just standing at second. The other team yelled for the third baseman to throw to second, which he did. I slid in, under the tag.
Inning over?

Now, what seems to have happened is that it was NOT an infield fly (at the umpire's call (yes, we have umpires)), and the batter was safe at first. The runner on second was out, when the third baseman stepped on the bag. I initially (well, not initially, but the second time I got to the bag) touched second, which my team argued removed the force play at second base the next time I got back there, meaning the second baseman had to tag me to record the out. I'm not sure if I agree with that, as the batter had made it safely to first, meaning I could not retreat there safely. So I believe the force should still have been on.

Anyway, the upshot of it was that even if I was out, that should only have been the second out of the inning.

Not that it mattered. We were destroyed, once again.

But I had three chances at short, and I fielded them all cleanly; one I flipped to second to start a 6-4-3, but the second baseman didn't turn the pivot. One I threw late to first, and the runner beat it out. And one I threw in time - but low, and the first baseman dug it out for the out. I'm getting a better feel out there, knowing where to place myself to cut throws from the outfield, knowing where to backup plays, and knowing where to best place myself defensively for left- and right-handed batters. Now that I've made a couple of plays, I know I can play a couple of steps shallower and still be able to field a ball and get the runner at first. I had been playing back, to give myself more reaction time, but that extra second allowed the runner to make it to first.

Offensively, I have a new approach at the plate: I'm up there taking pitches until I get a called strike. Especially if there's any wind, it's hard for the pitchers in this league to lay one in there. I'll take a walk. But - if I do get that called second strike* - I'm going to make sure I get the ball on the ground. Fly balls are death in this league; with four outfielders out there, it's rare to drop one in (unless you're playing against our fielders, who have a penchant for mis-playing fly balls). Pound it into the ground and leg it out. Which is harder than it sounds, when you have a big ole' watermelon pitch floating in from above your head. The ball just hangs up there, asking to be crushed. It's hard to lay off of it, wait it out, and get it on the ground. It's even harder to push it to the right side, but I'm going to work on doing that, too.

My line score for the night:
2 for 2, with a double and a run scored. I'm pretty sure I got an RBI, too, but as our "manager" says, "Due to some inconsistancies with our scorekeeper, possibly as a result of his current pain meds, I think he may have generously inflated our stats a bit." (Jeff, the guy who re-located his finger, kept the book last night.)
Although, in my case, it's not so much inflated as deflated.

Anway, going 2-2 brought up my average on the season to .333, and my OPS is 1.000, good for seventh best on the team. I'm also tied for the lead in doubles with one, and still lead the team with my 1 sac fly.

INJURY REPORT:
I'm still relatively in one piece. Getting on base a couple of times last night, I had the chance to do some base running and made three hard slides. Which, in shorts, hurts like a sonofabitch. I have a really nice raspberry on my right calf right now, which hurts all the time and KILLS when I get it wet. So I might break down and start wearing long pants. Maybe sweats. But, if I can find them, I might just go old-school and get some high-leg baseball pants, showing a lot of sock. I figure I may as well look the part of suburban beer-league softball guy. Unfortunately, all the pants I can find are down-to-the-ankle variety, and I just can't do that.

I also woke up this morning with a real intense pain in my right hand/wrist area. I didn't really feel it last night, so I don't know if it was a delayed pain or if maybe I just slept on it wrong. But it's really a very bad sharp pain if I move any part of my right hand (typing is really fun). I doubt I could grip or throw a ball right now. Hopefully it'll be all fine by Tuesday.


* all batters start with a 1-1 count, so basically you're working with 3 balls and 2 strikes at every at-bat.

Game 3 preview

Well, I'm back at shortstop. And I've dropped another spot in the order, down to 9th (out of 11 batters). Which is about right, as I'm tied with having the lowest OPS on the team: a paltry 0.333.

I'm 0-4, but I truly was robbed of one hit in the first game - the third baseman made a heck of a grab on a liner headed for left field. If that one had sneaked through, I'd be tied with 5 other guys on the team with only one hit, and my OPS would be up to .750.
So, I'm not as much of an anchor around the team's neck as I've felt like. I just get one or two to sneak through and I'll be right there.

I'm still terrified of a ball coming my way in the infield. It's a bit of a catch-22. I think if I handled a couple of grounders and threw the batters out, I'd have more confidence out there, but I don't want to get the ball to me, giving myself the chance to handle them.
The ball will find me eventually. Just keep it in front of me and take it from there.

Larry, our pitcher, sent around a team-wide e-mail yesterday apologizing for his play. Which is ridiculous, as - while he did walk some guys - more balls were put into play and butchered behind him. If anything, the team should be apologizing to him for not getting the outs on the well-hit balls. It's not like you're up there to strike guys out in slow-pitch recreational softball. The point is to put the ball into play and let the fielders make the plays. Which we're just not doing.

There's one guy on the team, a real competative guy. He's the only negative thing about the experience so far. He takes it all a little too seriously . . arguing at length with the ump in the first game, and harranguing his teammates about misplays. Dude, if you're that concerned with winning, go play in a competative league. This is a rec league. We're doing this to have fun.

I'm afraid we're going to come to loggerheads about this in the next couple of games.


Not to confuse this with my other blog, but as I typed that, I got to wondering exactly where the term "loggerheads" originated. Turns out, it's Shakespeare. You go, William!

Do-it-yourself Surgery

Okay, this is the actual, verbatim e-mail we all just received from Jeff:

I actually popped it back myself. I thought I was broken, I didn’t even take off my batting gloves. I didn’t even want to look at it. I just pulled on it a little and wiggled it around. I felt the tendon move up over the knuckle and then I looked at it. It looks straight and its just a little swollen today.

Ow. I don't know that I'd do that, myself, personally.
Wow.

0-2: Score . . . ouch!

I can't give you the exact score of last night's drubbing at the hands of the Covies because modern mathematics cannot calculate numbers that large. When I stopped counting, it was 32-7, in favor of the bad guys. They scored a bunch more runs after that point, but it was fairly clear who the winners were without a scorecard.
And, I should mention, they had more than one 50+ year old on the team.

The down side from last night (the loss was kinda expected, so it wasn't really that big a bummer) is that our big banger, our cleanup hitter, our Babe Ruth . . . is out for the season with a mangled finger he got while attempting a slide into third base. He went in, jammed his hand into the bag, and came up with four fingers pointing in one direction and the other one headed backwards at a very uncomfortable angle. He went straight to the hospital.
So, you know, that's fun.

I think we're down to 11 guys now, which is good as far as playing time goes, but not so good as far as actually winning a game is concerned. I went 0-1 last night with a walk. My batting average is still a big, fat .000. I made a pretty smooth play at second, though, after fielding a sharp grounder off of my shin. I also got a LOT of excersize, running out to the shallow outfield to be the cutoff man for all of the balls the Covies hit to the wall.

To paraprhase Chevy Chase from Caddyshack: We're . . . we're not good.

But tomorrow is another game. We'll give it another shot.

* Note 1: "Covies" turns out is short for "Naperville Covenant Church". We had our asses kicked by a church. With 50-year-old players. Although, to be fair, their players who were not 50 years old were about 21 and about 6'3", 210 pounds. They could flat-out crush the ball, sending many all the way to to the fences.

* Note 2: Just got an e-mail from our big slugger Jeff, whose first line was the great Mark Twain line "rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated." Turns out his finger was just dislocated, not broken, and he'll be back in a couple of weeks.
Maybe things are looking up for the No-Names.

Game 2 Lineup

Well, the skipper has posted the lineup for the game tonight against the Covies. (What is a Covie? Turns out it's an Australian Rugby Football Club , among other things. I'll ask an opponant tonight for the origin of their nomenclature.)

I'm playing second base and batting 8th tonight.
That's about right, I think.

Details to follow. Maybe I'll take some pictures sometime, too.

Game 2 Preview

So, our next game is tomorrow, Tuesday, at 7:30 against a squad called the Covies.

Something interesting I found: there were four games played last Thursday, the first day of the league season.
Our game was a tight, one-run affair.
The scores of the other games were 27-9, 18-4, and 16-8. Blowouts, each one of them. Meaning that three teams in this league are really good and/or three teams in this league are really bad.

Unfortunately, two of our next three games are against teams that were on the winning side of those lopsided scores. Which means there's a good chance we're going to be decimated. (The other game of that three-game-set is against a team which did not play last Thursday, so there's no way of telling how badly they're going to crush us.)

Gametime tomorrow is 7:30 PM. The forecast calls for morning showers. It rained hard all weekend, washing out our Sunday practice session, and is supposed to rain again all night. After some scattered storms on Wednesday, though, the weather should be clear.

We'll see.