Wednesday, April 28, 2010

4/25/10- Camp Swampy

It was a glorious return to one of the lesser favored fields in MBC's arsenal, and true to Swampy's demeanor, one of us was injured before the day was out. But we had 22 players, and some interesting plays to make the day worthwhile.

Johnny Bartlett was hungry to start and was on the bump before everyone had even warmed up. His defense spread out behind him and then before we knew it, 9 runs had been scored. Yeah, 9. Bloops were popular, as were seeing-eye ground balls, and the occasional misplayed pop up. Johnny kept his composure but we could tell he was not having a very good time. Satch started for the visitors, and set down the homers before they could answer back with any runs. A meeting of the minds decided that a trade was in order, and so Mike Lattig was dealt away to the home team for one Mr. Doc Magrane. We decided to keep going and see how it went. The homers finally got on the board, but quickly the visitors sprang back to take the run away and we entered the 3rd 10-1. And we somehow we stayed in the 3rd inning for about two and half innings, no one was quite sure what happened, but I do know I had thrown 6 innings by the bottom of the 4th.

In any case, the homers kept chipping away, and our big time offense slowed way down to the tune of 2 runs, and by the end of the 7th the score stood 12-7, and Sean was on the hill treating us all to what he does best. Satch gave way to Tony Rojas who threw some dynamite ball, working his new changeup and breaking stuff in. He also had a sly pickoff that saved us from the beginnings of a rally. By the end of the 9th (11th) we were all pretty tired, Greg was on to close it out, and a new guy, also Greg was in for the homers. The sun was in everybody's eyes, and windblown and dried out, we recorded the final out and put a final of 14-8 in the books.


  • Brian's lady friend and Mrs. Paige were steady spectators through most of the game
  • New guy Jeff, who had his first game at GGP, took a ground ball to the finger and had to leave the game, nail gone, blood aflowing, sorry kid, I know it's cold comfort that we have all been there, see you back soon!
  • Satch had a mighty wallop, with the old Pete bat, felt good to get solid contact, of course now San Quentin only allows metal bats....
  • Greg came from a camping/biking trip at China Camp, and swore he wouldn't catch, only to catch 8 innings, that's why we love ya Greg, you're all heart and soul for the MBC!
  • Doc ran faster to get a foul ball that we told him to leave alone, than he has in years, We were saying Let it go, not GO GO GO GO!
  • Another new guy Joe, had a deep drive in his first game
  • Mr. Bob Carey graced us with his presence and Satch felt compelled to throw at him, but nice and slow, and he moved out of the way, sometimes the gesture is better than the actual
  • Brian playing left handed shortstop, sure why not?
  • If I remember correctly, Brian Girgus got a hit, and didn't make any errors, does it only happen when I am pitching, Brian?
  • Jayson and all who might feel the urge, when one's team is ahead by 10 runs, one probably shouldn't steal second and third. Now you did get plunked, so I can rationalize that, but come on
  • A glorious day for a ball game

Saturday in the Big House, squaring up with some killers, Sunday in the Marina, hopefully with some parolees (if the bums show up to enjoy the day)

S. Paige

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

In case you were wondering....

Why Is Baseball So Much Better Than Football?
by Thomas Boswell (1987)
Reasons Why Baseball is so Much Better than Football by Thomas Boswell
Half time with bands.
Cheerleaders at half time with bands.
Up With People singing "The Impossible Dream" during a Blue Angels flyover at half time with bands.
Baseball has fans in Wrigley Field singing "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" at the seventh-inning stretch.
Baseball has Blue Moon, Catfish, Spaceman and The Sugar Bear. Football has Lester the Molester, Too Mean and The Assassin.
All XX Super Bowls haven't produced as much drama as the last World Series.
All XX Super Bowls haven't produced as many classic games as either pennant playoff did this year.
Baseball has a bullpen coach blowing bubble gum with his cap turned around backward while leaning on a fungo bat; football has a defensive coordinator in a satin jacket with a headset and a clipboard.
The Redskins have 13 assistant coaches, five equipment managers, three trainers, two assistant GMs but, for 14 games, nobody who could kick an extra point.
Football players and coaches don't know how to bait a ref, much less jump up and down and scream in his face. Baseball players know how to argue with umps; baseball managers even kick dirt on them. Earl Weaver steals third base and won't give it back; Tom Landry folds his arms.
Vince Lombardi was never ashamed that he said, "Winning isn't everything. It's the only thing."
Football coaches talk about character, gut checks, intensity and reckless abandon. Tommy Lasorda said, "Managing is like holding a dove in your hand. Squeeze too hard and you kill it; not hard enough and it flies away."
Big league baseball players chew tobacco. Pro football linemen chew on each other.
Before a baseball game, there are two hours of batting practice. Before a football game, there's a two-hour traffic jam.
A crowd of 30,000 in a stadium built for 55,501 has a lot more fun than a crowd of 55,501 in the same stadium.
No one has ever actually reached the end of the restroom line at an NFL game.
Nine innings means 18 chances at the hot dog line. Two halves means B.Y.O. or go hungry.
Pro football players have breasts. Many NFLers are so freakishly overdeveloped, due to steroids, that they look like circus geeks. Baseball players seem like normal fit folks. Fans should be thankful they don't have to look at NFL teams in bathing suits.
Eighty degrees, a cold beer and a short-sleeve shirt is better than 30 degrees, a hip flask and six layers of clothes under a lap blanket. Take your pick: suntan or frostbite.
Having 162 games a year is 10.125 times as good as having 16.
If you miss your favorite NFL team's game, you have to wait a week. In baseball, you wait a day.
Everything George Carlin said in his famous monologue is right on. In football you blitz, bomb, spear, shiver, march and score. In baseball, you wait for a walk, take your stretch, toe the rubber, tap your spikes, play ball and run home.
Marianne Moore loved Christy Mathewson. No woman of quality has ever preferred football to baseball.
More good baseball books appear in a single year than have been written about football in the past 50 years. The best football writers, like Dan Jenkins, have the good sense to write about something else most of the time.
The best football announcer ever was Howard Cosell.
The worst baseball announcer ever was Howard Cosell.
All gridirons are identical; football coaches never have to meet to go over the ground rules. But the best baseball parks are unique.
Every outdoor park ever built primarily for baseball has been pretty. Every stadium built with pro football in mind has been ugly (except Arrowhead).
The coin flip at the beginning of football games is idiotic. Home teams should always kick off and pick a goal to defend. In baseball, the visitor bats first (courtesy), while the host bats last (for drama). The football visitor should get the first chance to score, while the home team should have the dramatic advantage of receiving the second-half kickoff.
Baseball is harder. In the last 25 years, only one player, Vince Coleman, has been cut from the NFL and then become a success in the majors. From Tom Brown in 1963 (Senators to Packers) to Jay Schroeder (Jays to Redskins), baseball flops have become NFL standouts.
Face masks. Right away we've got a clue something might be wrong. A guy can go 80 mph on a Harley without a helmet, much less a face mask.
Faces are better than helmets. Think of all the players in the NFL (excluding Redskins) whom you'd recognize on the street. Now eliminate the quarterbacks. Not many left, are there? Now think of all the baseball players whose faces you know, just from the last Series.
The NFL has — how can we say this? — a few borderline godfathers. Baseball has almost no mobsters or suspicious types among its owners. Pete Rozelle isn't as picky as Bowie Kuhn, who for 15 years considered "integrity of the game" to be one of his key functions and who gave the cold shoulder to the shady money guys.
Football has Tank and Mean Joe. Baseball has The Human Rain Delay and Charlie Hustle.
In football, it's team first, individual second — if at all. A Rich Milot and a Curtis Jordan can play 10 years — but when would we ever have time to study them alone for just one game? Could we mimic their gestures, their tics, their habits? A baseball player is an individual first, then part of a team second. You can study him at length and at leisure in the batter's box or on the mound. On defense, when the batted ball seeks him, so do our eyes.
Baseball statistics open a world to us. Football statistics are virtually useless or, worse, misleading. For instance, the NFL quarterback-ranking system is a joke. Nobody understands it or can justify it. The old average-gain-per- attempt rankings were just as good.
What kind of dim-bulb sport would rank pass receivers by number of catches instead of by number of yards? Only in football would a runner with 1,100 yards on 300 carries be rated ahead of a back with 1,000 yards on 200 carries. Does baseball give its silver bat to the player with the most hits or with the highest average?
If you use NFL team statistics as a betting tool, you go broke. Only wins and losses, points and points against and turnovers are worth a damn.
Baseball has one designated hitter. In football, everybody is a designated something. No one plays the whole game anymore. Football worships the specialists. Baseball worships the generalists.
The tense closing seconds of crucial baseball games are decided by distinctive relief pitchers like Bruce Sutter, Rollie Fingers or Goose Gossage. Vital NFL games are decided by helmeted gentlemen who come on for 10 seconds, kick sideways, spend the rest of the game keeping their precious foot warm on the sidelines and aren't aware of the subtleties of the game. Half of them, in Alex Karras' words, run off the field chirping, "I kick a touchdown."
Football gave us The Fudge Hammer. Baseball gave us The Hammer.
How can you respect a game that uses only the point after touchdown and completely ignores the option of a two-point conversion, which would make the end of football games much more exciting.
Wild cards. If baseball can stick with four divisional champs out of 26 teams, why does the NFL need to invite 10 of its 28 to the prom? Could it be that football isn't terribly interesting unless your team can still "win it all"?
The entire NFL playoff system is a fraud. Go on, explain with a straight face why the Chiefs (10-6) were in the playoffs but the Seahawks (10-6) were not. There is no real reason. Seattle was simply left out for convenience. When baseball tried the comparably bogus split-season fiasco with half-season champions in 1981, fans almost rioted.
Parity scheduling. How can the NFL defend the fairness of deliberately giving easier schedules to weaker teams and harder schedules to better teams? Just to generate artificially improved competition? When a weak team with a patsy schedule goes 10-6, while a strong defending division champ misses the playoffs at 9-7, nobody says boo. Baseball would have open revolt at such a nauseatingly cynical system.
Baseball has no penalty for pass interference. (This in itself is almost enough to declare baseball the better game.) In football, offsides is five yards, holding is 10 yards, a personal foul is 15 yards. But interference: maybe 50 yards.
Nobody on earth really knows what pass interference is. Part judgment, part acting, mostly accident.
Baseball has no penalties at all. A home run is a home run. You cheer. In football, on a score, you look for flags. If there's one, who's it on? When can we cheer? Football acts can all be repealed. Baseball acts stand forever.
Instant replays. Just when we thought there couldn't be anything worse than penalties, we get instant replays of penalties. Talk about a bad joke. Now any play, even one with no flags, can be called back. Even a flag itself can, after five minutes of boring delay, be nullified. NFL time has entered the Twilight Zone. Nothing is real; everything is hypothetical.
Football has Hacksaw. Baseball has Steady Eddie and The Candy Man.
The NFL's style of play has been stagnant for decades, predictable. Turn on any NFL game and that's just what it could be — any NFL game. Teams seem interchangeable. Even the wishbone is too radical. Baseball teams' styles are often determined by their personnel and even their parks.
Football fans tailgate before the big game. No baseball fan would have a picnic in a parking lot.
At a football game, you almost never leave saying, "I never saw a play like that before." At a baseball game, there's almost always some new wrinkle.
Beneath the NFL's infinite sameness lies infinite variety. But we aren't privy to it. So what if football is totally explicable and fascinating to Dan Marino as he tries to decide whether to audible to a quick trap? From the stands, we don't know one-thousandth of what's required to grasp a pro football game. If an NFL coach has to say, "I won't know until I see the films," then how out-in-the-cold does that leave the fan?
While football is the most closed of games, baseball is the most open. A fan with a score card, a modest knowledge of the teams and a knack for paying attention has all he needs to watch a game with sophistication.
NFL refs are weekend warriors, pulled from other jobs to moonlight; as a group, they're barely competent. That's really why the NFL turned to instant replays. Now, old fogies upstairs can't even get the make-over calls right. Baseball umps work 10 years in the minors and know what they are doing. Replays show how good they are. If Don Denkinger screws up in a split second of Series tension, it's instant lore.
Too many of the best NFL teams represent unpalatable values. The Bears are head-thumping braggarts. The Raiders have long been scofflaw pirates. The Cowboys glorify the heartless corporate approach to football.
Football has the Refrigerator. Baseball has Puff the Magic Dragon, The Wizard of Oz, Tom Terrific, Big Doggy, Kitty Kaat and Oil Can.
Football is impossible to watch. Admit it: The human head is at least two eyes shy for watching the forward pass. Do you watch the five eligible receivers? Or the quarterback and the pass rush? If you keep your eye on the ball, you never know who got open or how. If you watch the receivers . . . well, nobody watches the receivers. On TV, you don't even know how many receivers have gone out for a pass.
The NFL keeps changing the most basic rules. Most blocking now would have been illegal use of the hands in Jim Parker's time. How do we compare eras when the sport never stays the same? Pretty soon, intentional grounding will be legalized to protect quarterbacks.
In the NFL, you can't tell the players without an Intensive Care Unit report. Players get broken apart so fast we have no time to build up allegiances to stars. Three-quarters of the NFL's starting quarterbacks are in their first four years in the league. Is it because the new breed is better? Or because the old breed is already lame? A top baseball player lasts 15 to 20 years. We know him like an old friend.
The baseball Hall of Fame is in Cooperstown, N.Y., beside James Fenimore Cooper's Lake Glimmerglass; the football Hall of Fame is in Canton, Ohio, beside the freeway.
Baseball means Spring's Here. Football means Winter's Coming.
Best book for a lifetime on a desert island: The Baseball Encyclopedia.
Baseball's record on race relations is poor. But football's is much worse. Is it possible that the NFL still has NEVER had a black head coach? And why is a black quarterback still as rare as a bilingual woodpecker?
Baseball has a drug problem comparable to society's. Pro football has a range of substance-abuse problems comparable only to itself. And, perhaps, The Hells Angels'.
Baseball enriches language and imagination at almost every point of contact. As John Lardner put it, "Babe Herman did not triple into a triple play, but he did double into a double play, which is the next best thing."
Who's on First?
Without baseball, there'd have been no Fenway Park. Without football, there'd have been no artificial turf.
A typical baseball game has nine runs, more than 250 pitches and about 80 completed plays — hits, walks, outs — in 2½ hours. A typical football game has about five touchdowns, a couple of field goals and fewer than 150 plays spread over three hours. Of those plays, perhaps 20 or 25 result in a gain or loss of more than 10 yards. Baseball has more scoring plays, more serious scoring threats and more meaningful action plays.
Baseball has no clock. Yes, you were waiting for that. The comeback, from three or more scores behind, is far more common in baseball than football.
The majority of players on a football field in any game are lost and unaccountable in the middle of pileups. Confusion hides a multitude of sins. Every baseball player's performance and contribution are measured and recorded in every game.
Some San Francisco linemen now wear dark plexiglass visors inside their face masks -- even at night. "And in the third round, out of Empire U., the 49ers would like to pick Darth Vader."
Someday, just once, could we have a punt without a penalty?
End-zone spikes. Sack dances. Or, in Dexter Manley's case, "holding flag" dances.
Unbelievably stupid rules. For example, if the two-minute warning passes, any play that begins even a split second thereafter is nullified. Even, as happened in this season's Washington-San Francisco game, when it's the decisive play of the entire game. And even when, as also happened in that game, not one of the 22 players on the field is aware that the two-minute mark has passed. The Skins stopped the 49ers on fourth down to save that game. They exulted; the 49ers started off the field. Then the refs said, "Play the down over." Absolutely unbelievable.
In baseball, fans catch foul balls. In football, they raise a net so you can't even catch an extra point.
Nothing in baseball is as boring as the four hours of ABC's "Monday Night Football."
Blowhard coach Buddy Ryan, who gave himself a grade of A+ for his handling of the Eagles. "I didn't make any mistakes," he explained. His 5-10-1 team was 7-9 the year before he came.
Football players, somewhere back in their phylogenic development, learned how to talk like football coaches. ("Our goals this week were to contain Dickerson and control the line of scrimmage.") Baseball players say things like, "This pitcher's so bad that when he comes in, the grounds crew drags the warning track."
Football coaches walk across the field after the game and pretend to congratulate the opposing coach. Baseball managers head right for the beer.
The best ever in each sport - Babe Ruth and Jim Brown — each represents egocentric excess. But Ruth never threw a woman out a window.
Quarterbacks have to ask the crowd to quiet down. Pitchers never do.
Baseball nicknames go on forever - because we feel we know so many players intimately. Football monikers run out fast. We just don't know that many of them as people.
Baseball measures a gift for dailiness.
Football has two weeks of hype before the Super Bowl. Baseball takes about two days off before the World Series.
Football, because of its self-importance, minimizes a sense of humor. Baseball cultivates one. Knowing you'll lose at least 60 games every season makes self-deprecation a survival tool. As Casey Stengel said to his barber, "Don't cut my throat. I may want to do that myself later."
Football is played best full of adrenaline and anger. Moderation seldom finds a place. Almost every act of baseball is a blending of effort and control; too much of either is fatal.
Football's real problem is not that it glorifies violence, though it does, but that it offers no successful alternative to violence. In baseball, there is a choice of methods: the change-up or the knuckleball, the bunt or the hit-and-run.
Baseball is vastly better in person than on TV. Only when you're in the ballpark can the eye grasp and interconnect the game's great distances. Will the wind blow that long fly just over the fence? Will the relay throw nail the runner trying to score from second on a double in the alley? Who's warming up in the bullpen? Where is the defense shading this hitter? Did the base stealer get a good jump? The eye flicks back and forth and captures everything that is necessary. As for replays, most parks have them. Football is better on TV. At least, you don't need binoculars. And you've got your replays.
Turning the car radio dial on a summer night.
George Steinbrenner learned his baseball methods as a football coach.
You'll never see a woman in a fur coat at a baseball game.
You'll never see a man in a fur coat at a baseball game.
A six-month pennant race. Football has nothing like it.
In football, nobody says, "Let's play two!"
When a baseball player gets knocked out, he goes to the showers. When a football player gets knocked out, he goes to get X-rayed.
Most of all, baseball is better than football because spring training is less than a month away.

Monday, April 19, 2010

4/18/10- Big Rec Field

Oh glorious baseball, how do i love and cherish thee! How i have missed thy sweet embrace and dreamt long for each Sunday to be today.....

A long time coming, especially with our frustrating Sunday at the Marina, we could not ask for a more perfect day this past Sunday. Ye gods the heat! It had to be at least 75 degrees which of course, is like a sauna to us San Franciscans. And not a cloud in the sky, gentle wind that died down and really reminded us of how odd it was that it was still as hot as it seemed to be. We started the whole day off by pissing on the parade of a huge bunch of Sloshballers who had already established the keg at 2nd when Greg and I got there. We showed our permit, they offered us booze and girls in trade if we would let them use the field (their chief negotiator seemed like she might have tapped the keg a little earlier than the rest). We countered that we had been waiting for this game for quite some time, and frankly, there was nothing they had that we would take in trade. They took it well, and ended up playing above us, screaming and drinking for the next two hours, sometimes it sounded like they were cheering for us....

We had 22 by the time everyone else showed up and the breakdown of the teams was almost a old Mission squad versus the new Mission squad, with the exception being Gaspar and Mitch and Adam (salty dogs all three) who were on the visitors.

Satch started for the homers, and quickly gave up two runs on some questionable defensive plays and a few poke jobs. No problem thought we, and then promptly went down 1-2-3. Brian the lefty was facing us on the bump and kept his pitches all around the strike zone and us off balance and stinging. Satch led off the 2nd, fisted a ball for a single, took second on a error, stole third, and came home on a clean hit, with another two close behind. It was our game 3-2. Then the visitors scored two more, and it was theirs 4-3. Back and forth it went with both teams doing some dynamite defensive plays to keep the lead or maintain the tie.

Brian bowed out in the 5th and Satch fell off the mound in a heat stroke after the 7th. Sean, another lefty came in, fresh from a band tour (probably spent every night wishing he was playing ball I am sure). He had some zip on his fastball from all the rest he probably got, but had trouble with consistency. Still, he got done exactly what was needed. Johnny Bartlett took the bump over for the homers and did a fine job with keeping the team from getting too much of a insurmountable command. So it went, and just when one team would thing that they had the lead, the others would take it back and we would be right back where we came from. The game was down to the wire, the visitors stormed back to tie up the game in the ninth, and our chance to win was turned away viciously in the ninth, as we stranded runners on 2nd and 3rd with no outs.

The visitors, fresh from the greatest of all turn-aways, went straight for the throats of us all, and ran two runs across the dish, and then bolted down the coffin lid in the bottom of the 10th, we all collapsed in the dying rays of the sun, and declared the Sunday a success.


  • Happy Birthday to Vivek, who got a couple of hits, and whose lovely wife and son brought cupcakes for the end
  • Dani, back again, with some flashy leather at 2nd and speedy as always out of the batters box
  • Satch led off each time he was at bat, got on base each time (three of them were errors), stole two bases, scored twice and was stranded twice. And I am feeling it....
  • Doc, don't-give-a-fuck beard and all, moving real well on the new hip
  • Sean had a nice long ball after some frustrating at bats
  • John Nero had a pretty good day at shortstop, not his natural position
  • Brian Girgus, let see what there was the not sliding on a clear cut need to slide play, the not running out of the ground ball that was dropped and would have been a hit, ah, I won't go into the rest, lets just say Brian's got a real knack for making himself known during the game
  • Mitch managed to kill every ball that came to the outfield, again
  • Adam had some great defensive catching when the game got close, blocking the balls in the dirt
  • The jams that all the pitchers got out of over the course of the day was great

The Conundrum for the Day:

In the bottom of the ninth, with one out, and men on 2nd and 3rd, Mike Lattig came up. Now this hasn't ever been an issue, but Mitch was making sounds for Lattig to be intentionally walked, to set up the double play and to take the big bat out of the box. In theory this is what you are supposed to do in baseball, but we have always been a hitters team, where everyone gets the chance to swing. Walks are only at the discretion of the hitter, in cases of three or more BoB in a row, or getting hit with the pitch. It all worked out, as Mike popped up to Mitch, and then the last batter struck out, but still Mitch raises a good point. We countered that if we intentionally walked Mike and the next batter got four balls, would the winning run count by being walked in? Certainly not the way that any of us want to have the game end....Thoughts anyone?

It was great to see you all out there, hope and pray for another day like Sunday,

S. Paige

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

4/4/10- Balboa Field

I don't know what it means.....but watching that rains storm was not what I wanted to do for Easter.

See you at West Sunset, 3 pm.

S. Paige

Thursday, April 1, 2010

3/28/10- Moscone Field

Can someone explain how we go from 26 to 10 in less than a month? Probably the most amazing day we have seen in a while, and parking problems aside, a great day for baseball. And here we were us stalwart 9 (Ben showed up 20 minutes before we quit) ready to play, and this is what we get. Showed up by softballers. SOFTBALLERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They had cheers, and spandex, and homoerotic screams from the right fielder, and the best we could do is come up with some slapdash "game" that I coined U.N. 9.

The rationale being that each of us was our own country, and got three outs to hit with, and as long as we kept our ghostrunners moving, we could keep hitting. It wasn't bad. It wasn't good either. We got to see a lot of pitchers, including the new right hand sensation Mike Gaspar, and for those of us that hit a bit ( I couldn't miss! Why does that happen in batting practice?) it was entertaining to talley ghost runs. BUt come on people!

I know, lots of legitimate excuses too, vacations, camping, arizona, surfing, band tours, but Jesus, what's the point of being on the email list and never showing up. and I realize that i am preaching to the choir here, as those guys probably don't read the blog....

Here is the latest email list:

"Aaron Daley" , "Bill Zerbes" ,,, "Brian Cagle" , "Brian Girgus" , "Carl Grubbs" , "Casey Rees" ,, "Dani Leone" , "Dan Mandel" , "Dan Martin" , "Dan Phillips" , "Danny Chester" , "Dave Johnson" ,, "Dennis Briskin" , "Doug Norris" , "Duane Harris" , "Ezra Gale" ,, "Greg and Oliver Magrane" ,,, "Jason Pienkowski" ,, "Johnny Bartlett" , "Jonathan Tiemann" ,, "Keefe Dwyer" , "Kevin Connell" ,, "Margaretta and Doug Page" , "Matt Chandler" , "Matt Stone" ,, "Mike Gaspar" , "Mitchell Burnham" , "nicholas castoria" , "Nick Levine" , "Nick Smith" ,,,, "Paul Kibel" , "Pete Simoneli" , "Peter van Schaik" ,,, "Richie Garcia" , "Rick Kvoriak" , "Rob Kvoriak" , "Ryan Bezenek" , "Scot Mills" ,,, "Tony Acquarelli" , "Tony Rojas" , "Vitalij Stelmashewko" ,,,,,,,,,,,,, "Adam Pfahler" , "Greg Snyder" , "Richard Baluyut" ,,,,, "David Neumark" ,, "Neel Bhatia" ,, "Sean Paul Presley" ,, "Mike Lattig" ,,,,, "zach robbins" ,,,

And we can't get 14 guys to show up?


You want highlights? here's your fucking highlights, everyone should buy these guys a drink:

Lattig, Gaspar, Kvoriak, Johnny, Chris, Brian Cagle, Ben, Elvin, Nick Smith and Satch

Satch's old man even came out to root on a baseball game, and ended up deriding us for making him ride the bus for batting practice. OUCH.

See you this weekend, stay the fuck away RAIN!

S. Paige