If you have been reading this blog,, you have been consistently exposed to references and citations of James...Coney Island James...New Yawk James...etc. Well, he isn't just a character I made up to make this team more diverse and exciting, he is an actual person, a hell of a ballplayer, and an all around good guy.
James showed up more than a few years ago, he stood out with his ropey, scarecrow frame, lack of a ball cap, or ball cap backwards (or a knit cap, what, you think it looks funny, well fuuuuuuuuck yu), and skill set.
He runs—fast. He hits—a ton. He throws—like a fucking cannon. He dives for balls, he catches everything, he stands at the plate and takes hacks like he is trying to hit the ball from Mermaid Ave. to Bay Parkway. And he often does. He is hard to strike out, unless you see that he is itching to clobber the ball, and then you can get away with slow stuff. Unless he decides to bunt, which he does quite often, and then you have to slag your doughy, arthritic carcass off the mound, and field the ball, and make a great throw, and then most times he still beats it out. And he can pitch though I have not seen it much lately. He makes windmills jealous with his windup.
He also made one of the ballsiest plays I have seen at SQ in recent times, going full-out into a concrete table in pursuit of a fly ball. I thought he was dead when I watched it happen. But up he sprung, somehow playing despite having run full-bore into, and over, a table in prison.
James is part of that elite group of players that are not allowed to bunch up too much on one team. Powell, Mitch, Sean, Urano, and James on the same team. What are you, fucking dumb?
In addition to being a dynamite ball player, James is also a really decent human being. He has Master's degrees in biological sciences, and spent several years in Americorps and the Peace Corps working to make the world a better and more connected place. He spent several years in Ecuador, so he hablas espanol as well, which makes him a hit with the Clemente leaguers that play in the game before us. I threw up in the jungle for a few days, and held a girl's hand in Ecuador once. 1992, in Esmeraldas. I worked at it all night, got up the courage watching Back to the Future in Spanish in the resort rec room, held that hand for 5 minutes of bliss, and then it got broken up by her mom who was wildly searching the grounds for her and was accompanied by a resort guard with a double-barreled shotgun. James probably has better memories.
A ways back I used to see him on the N-Judah most mornings, but he never seemed to see me, even when I smiled or waved. For those that know me, I am—politely speaking—hard to miss. When I asked him about it, he told me that in the morning he just likes to by himself, enjoy that time, and not bother making small talk. I respect that level of honesty, more than he probably knows. But that is James. He once offered to break a game delay stalemate on a weird permit confrontation at our reserved field one Sunday by offering, "Do you want me to just talk to them, 'cuz I'm from New York, so you know, I don't give a fuck."
During our current pandemic he has taken to filming himself cataloging the plastic waste that he collects to clean up our local beaches. Which I have to say is an admirable way to occupy one's time during our whatever-this- fucking-reality-is. If you are interested, his handle is the Brooklyn Biologist. The funny thing is that you can tell he is censoring himself in the videos, which is wise, but if you know the man, you know what he wants to say at certain moments:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqHd8cBMatI
My wife works to protect the SF Bay, and she was very happy to hear that at least one of us was doing something useful for ocean conservancy. All you surfers, pick up some garbage next time you are out. ya lazy barneys.
Full Disclosure: James borrowed my old War Hammer bat and then left in at a water fountain in GGP. And he felt really bad about it and he paid for a replica to be made. I mention this because it was a bummer. But the vibe of James and his love of the game lead me to believe that I can't be that mad at its loss because it will always make me happy that someone wanted to use that hogleg bad enough to borrow it.
But it's a sliver of a heartbreak.
So that is James. If you play with us, you hope he is on your team. The best part is, no matter what, he is always on the Earth's team. And it needs it.
Cap tip.
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