Player Profile #9- Mitchell Burnham

This is Mitch.





















This is Mitch too. You see how he looks like he is pissed off. That's because he is a competitor. His nickname in high school was Grouchy.














Mitch can do pretty much anything. He is what we refer to as a 5-tool player. In the real way. When we actually mean it, and we aren't just trying to impress somebody when we are drunk and blabbing about how we play hardball and softball sucks. He can hit, with power, plays center field to the point that we could probably play with just him out there, is still blessed with speed and he'll slide like Pete Rose if has to, arm that can pitch, throw down to second or stop a runner from advancing, and has fire in his belly to rival the greats.

Not to be too distracted by his baseball skills, Mitch also keeps to a lively social agenda, parties like a rock star, still manages to get to work at 6 am everyday. So, what's that, 9 tool player. And he's a great guy, 10, good sense of humor, 11, and he can grow a sweet beard, 12.

Mitch has been said to be the essential difference in a lot of our games, as you might see from past posts; the Mitch factor can make or break your team. There are certain combinations of players that will not be tolerated, for fear of a complete one sided disaster. Let's put it this way, you get put into the position of choosing up the teams and you get Lattig and Mitch for your team, you're also gonna get at least two of the three guys in corduroys and chucktaylors who we dragged into the game and the stewbum (if his Royal Gate haze allows him).

Mitch is a Davis boy, which is probably another reason that I like him, us Northern California kids understand carbon copy dyed blonds with big asses, small town hicks and valley shitkickers.

If I keep up this love parade I might make him uncomfortable, so let me just say, that it's a pleasure to see him on the diamond.

S. Paige


PS.

Mitch, I know that fulfilling relationships are great, but it's important that you keep participating in some of the other things that you enjoy doing ( like hitting the shit out of a ball and legging out a triple, and making a sliding catch and throwing your helmet). Take it from me, it keeps you interesting, and that's good when you are stuck at some dinner party on a Sunday night....trust me on this one.....

May 3rd.

It rained all week, and the fog and wet made it impossible to play a real game.

We walked out with our heads up this time....

So, after the ugliness that was the last SQ game, we had a simple plan of what we wanted to accomplish. We were gonna score a run, goddammit, and after that, it was all gravy. The gametime changed from 4 to 5, which robbed us of some daylight, and then the usual problems of waiting around the parking lot ensued. I think it is a bad idea to go into SQ during the shift change, cuz everyone is all edgy and stiff, you would think they worked in a prison or something.

Anyway, the hardass at the second gate wouldn't let Adam in with an expired license, so we pleaded for a while knowing it wasn't going to do any good, and then left our MBC brother at the door, and headed in 8 strong (sorry Adam, get that thing renewed....) A bunch of student teachers were leaving while we were coming in, and one asked if we were intimidated about pitching inside to the team. And the answer, NO. Its part of the game, and the SQ Giants are one of the most stand up, quality hardballers I have ever played against, and they understand that you can't give away a side of the plate cuz you are scared about hitting someone. And since most of them look like they could strike a match in the palm of their hand, the prospect of accidentally hurting someone isn't really worrisome.

The yard was pretty deserted when we got there, and we were 30 minutes late, and the Giants still hadn't gotten their equipment, apparently the "Man" had screwed with the mealtimes, and yard times, due to some sort of non-issue. I don't know how long any of us would last having people tell us when to eat or sleep....Anyway, we warmed up quick and got the game going. We took Noel, a bencher from the Giants, who played right for us, got our first hit, and also was involved in a difficult play at third. He argued, we shut up.

Stretch was pitching for the SQ, since the Saturday game had been canceled, and we called on Johnny Bartlett to once again weave his spell over the convicts. He did a bang up job, a few twists and turns aside, and in the third we actually scored a run, and all of us relaxed. It was a 2-1 game for another inning, then they scored a few more, then we got another one (although we had to plead with the scoreboard to put it up there). Then it was 6-2, and we started to fear that we might be into another long game, but with two on, Chris Powell stepped up and crushed a ball over the left center field, into the guard office. It bounced off the wall and then back over the fence, so those of us on base thought it was still a live ball, so I was chugging as hard as I could towards home, and didn't get to enjoy the moment. 6-5, a real game, the tension on the Giants was palpable, they suddenly realized we had the skills to take this one from them.

We held them for an inning, stranding a guy at third with a failed squeeze play. Stretch suddenly beared down and our offense came to a halt. Their response, small ball. Two perfect bunts cleared the way to our downfall. The men on were in scoring position, when a foul ball was hit down the third baseline. Johnny fielded it, clearly in foul territory. No one called the ball fair or foul. The batter was confused, I was confused, Johnny was confused. The umpires conferred and then told the batter it was a ground rule double. So, it went from foul ball, to ambiguous single, to ground rule double. We might have complained, but we knew better. Then came the flood of gorks, and suddenly it was 11-5, and everyone relaxed. The light was gone, the Giants had 15 minutes to be back in their cells, and we stopped the game in the 7th. We got a little time to talk while there was an alert in the prison, and Stretch presented Chris with his home run ball, apparently the first of the season.

Walking out we felt like a real team, and I bet all of us felt like we had won the game, despite the score. We challenged the Giants, and made them sweat for once, a hard thing to do when you are facing a bunch of lifers. If we had gotten Adam in, who knows how it might have turned out.

Highlights:

* The home run, of course.

* A great defensive game, especially in the outfield to reel in the Giants bats.

* The only really bad baserunning mistake was Noel, who technically isn't on our team. We gotta work on our baserunning.

* Making their defense work, and reaping the benefits in errors, or as we call them MBC hits.

* The pickoff when we needed an out.

* The pitchout that almost was. Since they steal every base they can, it was a smart move.

* Johnny and Greg keeping the Giants uneasy

* Everyone who caught a ball when we needed an out, a welcome change from the last game.


So, the next game scheduled is against the Pirates, who the coach seems to think we will walk all over. In any case, sign up now.


Pray for sun and wind to dry the field for Sunday

S. Paige

A Windy Day, a Bumpy Field, and Uneven Game

When we play at Balboa, usually we get the Cop field, so named because the police station is directly behind, and we are greeted to the sound of the officers racking their 12 gauges as the shift changes at 5 pm. Not exactly soothing, but better than hassling us.

This Sunday we played the other field, nicknamed Camp Swampy, due to it's lack of drainage after a rain, and the general poor infield character. We had 21 players which was nice, and the game ended up being pretty close, 16-14, I believe, but somehow, the teams seemed skewed. Certainly, each team was resplendent with some talent, but the home squad seemed as though they were a little more grounded, let say.

As SQ looms ahead on Weds, and my week off made me more sore somehow, Satch threw 5 innings and called it a game. Noah took over and proved his shrewdness, and made more of a confident hurler than yours truly. A bitter taste was in my mouth for most of the game, not something I particularly enjoy, and its hard to place my finger on why exactly. Somedays, you are jealous of the other team, because they are playing like a team, or they seem to be having more fun than you, or maybe its just because they have Mitch in the outfield. Greg commanded the bump for the home squad, and did what he does best. Although I must say, I kind of owned him. Lattig came in to finish off, something we don't see as often as we would like.

The uneven start of the game might have had something to do with it, we had a half dozen fly ball outs that didn't get caught, the whole team got the case of the dropsies, dribblers that got by people, and through the first four innings our team had about three baserunners. Meanwhile, the score was entering the 9-1 region. We traded for another outfielder, Stoner, which helped, and our bats started to perk up, before being beaten down once again.

The Mitch factor was defintely the biggest difference, Greg could start walking off the field the second the ball was hit to center field.

Maybe Camp Swampy is on top of a Indian burial ground, in any case its just bad news. It has been scene to broken noses, twisted ankles, a spiking, and stolen equipment. Next week, we have a later start than usual, 4 pm, so maybe that will change things.

Sorry if this post is not the usual fanfare, but as the man said, Sometimes you eat the bar, sometimes the bar, well, he eats you.

Highlights:

* The end of Lattig's 1.000 OBP, stopped at 15-15. Pretty amazing. And I must say that I threw the best 3 pitch combination I have ever thrown at him to snap it.

* Mitch. Sometimes it's just not fair.

* Warren? Noah's new guy, who singlehandedly gave our team hope, by clubbing not 1 but 2 homeruns, 7 rbis, and caught the last few innings with aplomb.

* The return of Richie. Take care of that frame, stay off the skateboard for awhile.

* I got one over Mitch's head. Camp Swampy is good for wind carry. And I started my own OBP streak with a 5-5.

* Nobody took a bad hop to the face, although I took a groin shot on a 2nd base throwdown

* Our team getting the outs when we really needed them

* The home team, for agreeing to 16, when it could have been 23

* Sean, for his midgame pants switcheroo, apprently the Shotwell pants are bad juju, and combined with Swampy, perhaps dangerous.

See you in the Q, for those lively few that can get off early on a Wedsnesday to entertain some felons. Otherwise, Sunday, you know where and when.

S. Paige

PS

I got a update from Bob, John Carey had his first official homerun, a rake to right, and missed hitting the cycle by not getting a single. So, from now on, we might have to start bribing John to play with us. Either than or work out a free agency contract so that the MB club is not thrown into civil turmoil as we fight to land him in our lineup.

A Sweltering Day in the Park

Unfortunately, ol' Satch was roped into matrimonial social duties on Sunday, and had to miss the game in the GGP. My heart was with the team, but my ass was where I was told to be. I must say, however, that the Bernal Heights backyard BBQ and chilled wine were exquisite. The guest summary this week is provided by one Mike Lattig, who is a natural prosist and witty to boot.....

The Game:

Big turnout at Big Rec on the hottest day of the year. 22 ballplayers overall by the time Ryan showed up in the 2nd. Lots of new faces and a game that seemed as long as it was hot... So none of us minded sitting out a couple. On to the game...

After an orderly top half of the first, the home squad quickly jumped on Lefty Sean for a few early runs. Some blamed his short, three-inning outing on the Shotwell pants and lack of Elephant Ears (dangerous to change up tradition, although somewhere the baseball fashion police are probably sighing with relief)... Others surmise a little bit of tired arm combined with tired outfielders is what got him. Either way, he was followed to the mound by another lefty, Brian, who didn’t fare much better. He blamed that on the Bocce Ball and red wine from earlier in the day (wait until Bay to Breakers). Then another lefty (newcomer Rob) came on to see if he could stymie the home 9, once again with mixed results. The revolving door of runners was finally stalled in the 9th by the lone righty and most surprising pitching appearance of the day, as Vivek took his maiden turn on the bump, throwing strikes and getting outs (Nice work Vivek, how did the curve ball fare? Next week I'll show you the forkball...)

At the end of the day, those four were no match for one man—Noah. He once again kept the opposing squad baffled for nine innings (which in that heat was a monstrous feat) with his patented mix of well placed fastballs, change of speed and late movement. Combined with a defense that all seemed to be playing their natural positions (sure-hands Bartlett at 3rd, the Hose at short, Nick at first and Greg behind the dish), it was too much for the visitors to handle and the home team cruised to victory.

At the end of 9 grueling 90-degree innings, the home-squad prevailed 15-7. (or somewhere in that neighborhood. We had stopped counting somewhere around the 6th)

Some additional highlights:

* Mitch absolutely smashing two balls into/over Left Center. Then being humble as always about it.

* Multiple double plays for the home squad, off a combo of line drives with runners in motion and the traditional 6-4-3 route.

* The emergence of Gaspar as a power threat thanks to a new leg kick he picked up from the WBC. Others may soon follow suit...

Next week promises to cool off, and it will be interesting to see if turnout cools off with it... If you all are half the players you claim to be, we’ll once again be locked and loaded with two full squads. And I imagine old Satch will be back on the bump, this time with his good heat...


Just so I don't feel so bad, here's an addendum from Kvoriak, who also missed the game:

I was playing kickety-kick ball with 5 through 7 year olds at Malcolm X Elem. in Oakland.

I went 4 for 4 with 3 homeruns. Those kids are even worse than you guys.

See y'all soon I hope.

So that is how she fell out this week. If you have additional highlights/ lowlights, let me know and I will add them on. Anyone want to play a game today, the weather is right and I am temporarily unemployed....?

S. Paige

A weekend of Baseball

In the past weekend, the MBC played two games, that had a total run count of 41….impressive, even if one of them we didn’t score any runs.

Yes, I am ashamed to say that our inaugural game against the SQ Giants was a shutout. And a blowout. The bitch of it is that going in we were all loose, good feelings, not a whole lot of tension, had some strong aspects to the team. And the first couple innings we were right in there. Had a doubling off play to snuff a rally, yours truly hit a leadoff double. Had some good plays in the outfield. Then, in true MBC style, the wheels came off the whole thing, the vehicle crashed into the ravine and caught on fire. 11 runs in one inning. And I take credit for some of those, the SQ hitters were a very hungry bunch, and they have some new additions that play real well. But there were probably about 8 errors in the inning too..…Heartbreaking ones that looked like double plays or flyball outs that then turned into scoring opportunities.

Stretch threw the whole game, and he has lost some of his fastball capability, but the guy is 46, and probably weighs 160 pounds, so kudos to him. His curve is still working, and he has a great defense behind him. The main problem for us is that we were hitting like a bunch of handicapped grandmothers. I started for the MBC, lasted 4 innings, did a pretty pisspoor job, and then Johnny came in and shut the Giants down. It was amazing. Brian came in for the final inning and did a great job. Brian also was 3-3 and got some congrats from Stretch himself. Definitely MVP. Too bad it’s MVP of our shitfest.

Yet, I think I can say that we all had a good time. The Giants, and all the guys on the yard were their usual congenial selves. Guys kept telling us how to beat the Giants, we discussed the paradox about being the Mission baseball team without actually playing in the Mission. One guy, Kee, sat with us for the latter part of the game. He played last year, but he is involved in getting his AA degree and volunteering so he couldn’t play this year. Positive! He even knew my professor who volunteers at SQ for a community education program. It was hard to believe that he has a life sentence. He told me the worst part about SQ is that you don’t have to just do your time, you have to babysit your roommate, because any infraction, they blame you for being there. As if prison didn’t suck already. I think Kee is featured in the Bad Boys of Summer, which I haven’t seen yet, but would like to. NICK KINSEY YOU ARE ON NOTICE FOR NOT RETURNING THE DVD. OTHERS ARE WAITING.

One poor inmate actually believed in us enough to bet a case of Top ramen that we could score at least one run. Poor bastard, we got to find out who he was, and get some money into his commissary account. It’s not his fault we hit like the Blind Boys of Alabama baseball team.

So, after the shellacking, we got to talk to the guys, catch up, we have some more possible dates to go in, who knows we might become the preferred visitor team? The Generals to their Globetrotters….

Easter Sunday. If ever there was a day to do something other than celebrate a holiday. Fitting I guess, since most of consider the game our church service. We got 17 out which was nice, including a Ryan and his lil’ guy, a friend of Lattig’s and two new guys who showed up to bail us out. We were light in pitchers, so I threw again, but real light. Greg wanted to throw, so it was another classic show down. Surprisingly, the heavy ball was working, and we amounted a healthy lead through the first few. Then a few more. Early indications of a blowout began to show, by the time it was 12-5. But the beauty of the MBC game, is that anything is possible, and no lead is safe. I gave up the pearl in the 6th to Dennis, who favors bare legs as a pitching distraction and throws every 6 weeks or so. Whatever the case, the home squad came alive, and before you knew it, runs were mounting up. Our defense had a few problems, but I think at one point Greg’s team had 5 extra base hits in a row. Pretty damn impressive. Lattig started to shut the door on our team offensively, and then Ryan came in to break our will. It worked, and in the bottom of the 9th, still behind by 4 runs, the home team girded up their loins and bats and won the game, 17-16. Phew….

Highlights

* The late surge and team spirit of the home squad.

* Left handed shortstop turning a double play.

* John Carey, having one of the higher fielding percentages for the game, as well as some solid hits (we gotta work on your home stealing, though)

* Almost nailed a soccer player with one of my hits

* Vinay’s snares in left field, impressive, most impressive.

* Bob, hitting the shit out of the ball all day (and passing out steaks)

* The two knuckleballs I threw to Tony, sick and sicker.

* Lattig’s buddy, who started off rough at the plate, and hit a towering double by the end of the day

* John, Bob, Ryan and Greg for catching a long game.

Too bad we don't get paid for this, it would be the sweet life.

S. Paige

Player Profile #8- Robert Carey

(So the only picture I have of Bob is this one, he is the man behind the mask. I know there has to be a better one, so somebody send one to me....)

By now you have all heard me talk about Bob, he is one of the most stalwart warriors we have in the club. Before I even get into his baseball skills, the first thing is Bob is the reason we aren't praying every Sunday to find an open field. Like Nick Smith, Bob has his shit together just a tad more than everyone else, and it shows. He is the club accountant, the club organizer, and though he probably would prefer a different term, he IS the team dad. He organizes the Fourth of July double header, along with the email for the weekly games. If Bob ever leaves our little thing, I fear the wake of disorganization and chaos that might follow.

Bob is a classic ball player, dug in and full of hardball spirit. He always comes to the field in full uniform, with a trunk full of gear, ready to play any position or cure any ailment. You wanna know how Bob rolls? Red Man chew, maple bats, and metal spikes. You got a problem with that?

Pitching to Bob is always a crap shoot. Once he's in the box, he ain't moving. He might turn slightly, but if you throw an inside pitch, there is a good chance that Bob is gonna wear it rather than get out of the way. And he seems alright with that. I think secretly, he likes it, as long as it doesn't hit him in the spine....But when Bob gets a hold of one, it's a thing of beauty, the crack of a wooden bat, the compact swing, and the shit talking that you get when he saunters up the baseline are all part of his glory.

Bob's catching is what keeps us in business as well, he prefers not to catch the whole game, but he will do it if needs be. He is a rock behind the dish, ready to plunge headfirst into the gear in pursuit of a foul ball. As a pitcher it is sometimes fortuitous to get Bob catching in the latter parts of a game, as the strike zone will get larger as he gets sorer, or if he needs to get home by a certain time.

Bob can play any position, first is usually his preferred if he isn't catching. Bob was unfortuately part of one of the uglier incidents we had in MBC lore. While playing at Balboa, Johnny hit one directly into the sinking sun. Bob was in center field, didn't have to move, had a bead on it, then it crossed the sun, and hit him square in the nose. Have you ever heard someone punch a side of beef? That's what it sounded like. I heard it from the infield. We rarely have real injuries, so this was pretty traumatic. The nose was broken, but everything else seemed to be alright. I think Bob took a week off, and then he was back the following week, bragging about his blackeyes. Never complained about it. That's a tough guy, I get hit in the side, and I'm whining and taking pictures for it for the blog....

Bob's a good guy. Ornery and set in his ways, yes, but he's got a heart of gold. He loves the game, and he has passed that love to his son, John, who has been coming out to the field since he could walk. John got his debut last year, at the tender age of 9, 10???? and proved himself more than capable of playing with the big guys, not only is he faster than all of us (he must get that from his mom's side of the family), but he plays a thinking man's game rather than the Cro-Magnon version most popular with our fellas. He is also blessed with natural ability and a great arm. John is a great kid, a spitting image of the old man, in gait and attitude, and it's nice to see two generations enjoying a common interest.

One final great thing about Bob, he has started his own grass fed beef company, Brandon Natural Beef. If you are a beef person, you have got to try some, I have utilized Bob's services for a couple of parties so far, and the reviews are always the same, AWESOME. And if you are a good customer, he might throw a extra strip steak in...His website is:

http://brandonnaturalbeef.com/

Bob, we all salute you. Thank you for your years of service dealing with the ineptitude of the Parks and Rec people, resupplying us with baseballs, letting us use your sweet bats, and most of all, for just being who you are. It wouldn't be MBC without a full spectrum of characters, and you are one mighty character.

S. Paige

Redux at the Marina, only Sunnier, Warmer.

It is almost not possible to sum up the game we had yesterday, as I am wary of using the word perfect. But screw it, it was pretty damn perfect. Not a cloud in the sky, the lightest of breezes wafting the spring honeysuckle in the air, the field once again in immaculate condition. The fear as we warmed up was not that we would be short, but that we would have 28 people show up. Luckily we topped out at 20, which was enough to let us all relax for a inning here and there.

Sean, the crafty southpaw, started for the visitors and quickly got everyone’s attention by striking out four or five in the first two innings. I got a hit on blind luck alone, plus a bonus ricochet off the pitching rubber. Yours truly started again for the home squad, with Greg behind the dish, hoping to nail down our repertoire in preparation for the San Quentin game this weekend. For the first time in a long while, Satch went with the full wind up, and it is surprising how it affects the pitches, both in velocity and control.

The first half of the game was a nail biter, 1-1 through the first five. The defense really helped out for both teams, and Sean had a few more K’s to add, as did I. We finally scored one more run, to take the lead in the 7th and Rojas took over to finish out the game. And what a finish, Tony was masterful, the sidearm changeup was moving, the fast ball was zipping. With our new found confidence, we racked up a few more runs. Johnny Bartlett came in for long relief for the visitors and kept the game lively. We got to the 9th, Tony got the groundballs we needed and the game was over…or not. We ended up playing two extras, since we had another hour and a half of daylight, and the flesh was willing. We brought in our own lefty, Brian to finish it up, and he did so, with a little excitement. The visitors threatened comeback, and suddenly it was 5-4, with Danger all around.

Like a solid team should be, we never broke a sweat, backed each other up, and the game was ours. However, on a day like yesterday, I think we all felt like winners.

Highlights

* Sean, Tony, Johnny and Satch, Brian, who all looked excellent on the mound

* The return of Stoner, who finagled his way out to a game, despite being in the throes of proud new papahood (Congrats Matt!)

* Twice, Lattig?

* The Rojas relief and triple, right handed, after bitching about not ever getting a chance to hit that side.

* Baseball is a balance, so: Is the squeeze on, Rojas? Rojas, why are you thinking about stealing home with no outs? And in this association, Tony, we drop our bats at the plate; we don’t throw them into the ball’s pathway on the trip down to first….

* Bob, stroking one to left, and talking shit up the line, my kind of hit….

* I am reinstating my request for a fence. Or not letting people play at 399. Best feeling hit of the year and it’s an easy out.

* The visiting team for squashing at least three scoring chances with great plays at the plate (two involving the infamous Tony Rojas).

* The 4-6-3 error put out near the end of the game. That’s how you back up a team mate! Thanks for the scoop Nick.

* Kinsey, Will, Brian, B. Cagle, Bob, Bhatia’s for all having solid line drive days at the plate.

San Quentin here we come, so don’t forget, no phones, civilian clothes, or tobacco ( it’s a felony now).

S. Paige

Player Profile #7- Peter Van Schaik

First off, let me say that I miss Peter. A lot. Peter was another of the original 17 Reasons guys. 17 reasons was the big sign that used to stand above 17th street and Mission, and was the Coit tower for the original ball clubbers.

But I miss Peter. Did I say that already? Before Satch showed up on this motley scene of players, Peter hurt his shoulder, and had relegated himself to second base for all times because the throw from anywhere else was not going to have any style or English on it. But he could nail that second base throw like nobody's business. And his defense was awesome, he had awesome range, and he could knock something down and look balanced while he was doing it. We had some good times as a double play combination. By official baseball etiquette, I nor any other 6'6" player, should ever be allowed to play shortstop. But I do. And by the way, I do just fine. Its a ground ball, I can do that. But Peter and I could used to have some really good conversations (which bothered Greg) but he was supposed to be focused on pitching.

Man, I miss Peter. For a man of moderate stature, he used to hit the piss out of the ball. He used a huge bat, and he had one of the quicker swings I have ever seen. He could hit it anywhere, and it always looked like he knew exactly what he was doing the whole time. He had one weakness, a weakness for doubles. I wish I could say I made that up, but I stole it from the Baseball series...And he could talk shit about it, in a funny way, and then back it up with action. You gotta respect that.

You know who liked the Yankees? This guy Peter, that used to play with us. He sat on a throne of fandom that only true Yankees fans can, his theory was no matter how bad the Yankees were, who had the most championships? Who ruled decades of time in the MLB? Yup, those guys. But he wasn't a dick about it. So there was that. The first time I played, Peter was out there, scrapping, dodging, weaving and burning rope, which I was happy to see. Good that someone else still kept alive the old traditions of the national pastime. I like traditions.

Whatever happened to that guy Peter? Oh yeah, so he moved to South America, and then Connecticut. You know, the usual story. He's got two kids and a great wife, which are all awesome, well, I met two of them, and they were. He's an actor too, and he grows a hell of a mustache. Rumors swirl sometimes about a visit. Haven't been able to nail down a visual, but he's probably floating out there somewhere. I hope to see him again one day. He knows where and when we play.

What's that smell?


S. Paige

A day in the Marina

Beautiful. Warm. Breezy. Blue Sky. It’s spring finally, and I got the allergies to prove it. But, it beats the hell out of rain and fog. As an added bonus, the game this week was in the Marina, where the sun pours on to the field, and Parks and Rec must pay a little added attention to the rich people games, because the field was in immaculate condition. We had 17 this week, which was nice to have a little more of a relaxed game, and not be fielding your own teams fly balls. We were haunted early by a drunk bum (not the one Greg beaned) who asked us at least five times who we were, and when the other team was showing up. Then it was explained that we were the other team, he got confused and didn’t know who to cheer for. It became too much for him, and he left, much to the relief of us all, having a drunken gargoyle standing over you, teetering on the falling or vomiting is not the relaxing Sunday we all come out for. He threatened to play, but his broken hand, and lack of email address will probably keep that from happening.

From the onset, I thought ol’ Satch’s team was outmatched bat-wise, but low and behold we had three runs by the end of the 1st, and kept adding. It was a classic showdown, yours truly grinding the soup bone for the visitors and Mr. Snyder for the home squad. It’s been awhile since Greg pitched, not that it showed in performance, but I think he gets tired of catching all the time. If he wasn’t so good at it, we might let him relax once in while….

Defensively we were pretty even, each of us had some ugly innings, and the softball batting practice that occurred from the 3rd to the 6th inning was not helping. Since they were totally in the right, we had to let them do what they wanted. Our permit problems have now been properly explained, and it requires some initiative on the part of the squad. Bob can only get four hours a month from P&R, which means that if we want 2 hour permits, we need to have at least one other person getting permits in THEIR NAME. That is the sticky situation, so I figure (as Mitch stated) we are all adults, and we probably are capable of organizing this. We could rotate one or two people each month from a core group of volunteers that know they will be able to make it, or whatever. I am asking you all to add your feedback, a plan needs to be made here, so we don’t have to kiss the softball players asses anymore….that should be reason enough to figure it out.

Mr. Snyder and I ended up going the distance, challenging one another to finish it up, probably our first combined CG since the rainy times. My slowball was working well, as was my knuckle, but people kept hitting that one, so I focused on getting groundballs and popups. It worked, although the comeback made me a little nervous. Greg’s beanball was working pretty well too, although I think I was the only one that got plunked. It’s been awhile since I was hit square.

You can see the stitch marks on the impact point, and you bet I milked that one for it was worth that night.I have leaned into a few over the years when I got behind early in a count, but this one was a surprise. Well, not too much, as I saw it all the way, thinking curveball, waiting for it to break, and then it was up in me. The SQ game is coming up, so I would suggest all those playing get ready, as Stretch is not above a plunking or three.

Mounting a great comeback, the home squad fell short in the end, but the final was 12-9, which was pretty amazing. The difference in the game, probably was Mitch, again, who scored at least 3 times, stole bases, played the hot corner, and in general showed that he was most likely that guy you could never get out in high school ball.

Highlights

* Enough people for a real game

* The brothers Bhatia combining for four hits, keep ‘em coming

* Complete game showdown, with a shut out intact until the fourth?? fifth??

* Nero and Gaspar (with a hurt leg) catching a good game, and Bob going the distance behind the dish for Snyder’s team

* Every hit to right field that freaked out the softballers……wussies.

* The double play and a half that ended the game

* It seemed like everyone got at least one hit on the day, which is nice.

* I struck out looking. Been doing that more lately. Not really a highlight.

* Greg’s five pitch inning.

* Bob hit count- 1. It was a classic changeup to the posterior. It wasn’t retaliatory, but I was jealous that I didn’t get hit there.

Bring it on, April. Stretch those hammies and ice those shoulders.

S. Paige

Snow, Rain, Hail, Sun, Wind, Baseball

Beautiful week and rain all weekend. That is what haunted my thoughts this week. It was promised in all the weather stories, and they sure got the first part right, it was amazing all week. And storm clouds descended as promised on Saturday, although not like I thought they would. By that time, we had gone to the mountains to do some clean living for 24 hours. And I woke up Sunday morning to snow, big fluffy flakes of snow. My family and friends all ragged me, told me it was useless, and the game was sure to be cancelled. I never wavered completely, but I began to prepare myself for a baseball-less Sunday, as we drove back down the hill. By the time we hit Sacramento however, it was 55 degrees and clear skies, and all of sudden, baseball seemed like the most logical activity, and I tromped on the accelerator.

Home by 2:45, out the door by 3:00, and to the park by 3:25. Excited, nervous, happy, worried. All emotions came tumbling through as I neared the field. Lo and behold, the game had started, and it looked like we were well stocked. Silently I thanked the baseball gods, and threw on my uniform. Luckily I brought my undershirt, the wind never stopped blowing, and the temperature probably didn’t get above 54, but the sun was bright, and the game was lively….for the other team anyway.

Noah threw a masterful complete game, resplendent in fadeaway pitches, and low and slow changes. Struck ol’ Paige out (with some psychological help from Gaspar), as well as Zerbes, who ate Satch for breakfast last week. Noah’s team had hits all day, line shots, dribblers, soaring shots, they all came out to play. Our team of hitters couldn’t do much more than pop up to the infield, which had us beaten hands down on defensive ability. Johnny tried his best, but our team gave him no help in the field, I think we averaged three errors an inning. We had apparently adopted a couple of new guys who showed up to play their own game and joined ours. Noah’s new guys were juiced up monsters with defensive capabilities. Ours didn’t get a hit, and managed to fuck up groundballs, and a relay throw about five times, although there was a nice double play turn later on. Not to lump too much on any specific player, as we all managed to hump the wrong leg at some point in the game.

We started to mount a comeback, and the momentum was hurtling our way, but then there was a doubling off, and some more pop ups, and suddenly the game was over. Mentally, I think most of our team was changing their shoes by the 7th inning. The final score was 15-4, but luckily, there is always another game…..

Highlights

* Noah, again with the CG, nibbling and jamming the whole game

* The homeruns and triples and doubles that all seemed to follow one another

* Mitch, doing it with the bat, and the glove, strangling the hell out of our last rally chance

* The return of Nick Levine, who proved that you can be gone for years, and still put on a hitting display

* New guy 1 and 2 for smoking the ball, and making some fine defensive plays

The sun is supposed to stay, but so is the wind, so bring your long sleeves and cap.

Stay loose

S. Paige

The game that was, then wasn’t, then was again.

Sunday’s game was not the best we have ever had, although it turned out to be a pretty solid contest. Havana 6 is always a little confusing; since the turn-around from batting to defense happens so many times that you forget who you are playing for. Not to mention that in a bases loaded situation, there is no one on your team to cheer you on from the bench, they are all on base or in the field. But, hey it was a game.

The rainy mist came and went through the day, and by 2 pm, Nick and I were prepared to call No Joy for the day, based on the steady wetness in the Richmond. But a message from Ezra (visiting from NY) turned it around, who stated that the neighborhood where the field was hadn’t seen any rain. All of a sudden my shitty day locked inside, doing house chores was washed away, and I raced out the door.

I was still expecting to see three people, but I was amazed we had a starting 9 by the time I got there. A few more showed up and all of a sudden we had a game, well, we had Havana 6. Coincidentally, we would have had 14, if Tony and Greg hadn’t been at the Japan- Cuba game in San Diego….too bad Cuba, maybe you should start playing Havana 6 instead.

Long lost Zerbes showed up for his annual 6 month assignment, and shut us down as usual, with sidearm, screwy action. Satch threw five, and never felt right, although Pfhaler would probably disagree (hope that forearm got some ice). We had a beautiful four innings, where the sun poked through, and day was looking good. Then, it was windy cold and a steady sideways mist reminded us that it was still early spring. We called it a game after 6 ½, and headed for cover. It beat the hell out of vacuuming….

Highlights:

* Having enough brave souls to play something

* Johnny’s fortitude in making it out from the East Bay, complete with back tracking and 180’s.

* For being gone so long, Zerbes is still a maniac with the bat, and artist with the ball

* New guy Brian, for attacking the ball, motoring on the base paths, and laying all the way out to try for a fly ball

* Pfhaler….tough outing, don’t get discouraged, we all strike out sometimes

* Gaspar up the middle! In a clutch situation!

* Ezra for the field report, and the furthest commute….


Thanks for making it out, all who did, thanks for lugging the gear Nick, thanks Bob for the permit (although, is it possible to tell them we got rained out and re-use?)

At least the uniform got washed in the rain,

S. Paige

San Quentin season coming up...

If I am correct, our first SQ game is April 11th. I ran into Doug Norris at the bar last week, and he told me about a thing he had written after the first game. I am including it below, and encouraging all others who have written about it to email me, so we can get a collection of stories?

Doug claims he can't field ground balls anymore, and that is why he doesn't come out. However, he had no trouble drinking beer, beating up the 500 club photo booth and walking around the bar in a life preserver.....?

MBC Inside

Today was the day. Off to prison. No, not like that, or for that, should i say. A guy that occasionally plays with my pickup hardball team hooked us up with a woman who organizes baseball teams to play against the San Quentin Giants. We sent them our driver's license #'s and Soc. Security #'s and passed the screening process and today at 8 am we showed up at San Quentin. On the drive over the prison jokes were never ending. After waiting around for awhile at the entrance we went through two checkpoints and then walked through the main courtyard, around a building, and POW we were in the yard. I think most of us had assumed that we would be separated from the general populace by some kind of barrier but no, we were right there walking through the inmates.They have a field that the inmates built that covers about half of "the yard" and it's pretty nice although the infield has no grass. It was a beautiful day and there were lots of guys out in the yard. Most of them wearing their prison blues but a lot of them had their shirts off sporting a variety of tattoos. One that stood out was a guy who had Co Co County across his stomach(Contra Costa County). They didn't really look all that scary which might be misleading.Charley Manson used to be at San Quentin and it was said that he used to run out onto the field while they were playing. I would have liked to have seen that.In addition to the ball field there is a basketball court, horseshoes, and even a tennis court. There was a doubles match going on and one guy was wearing tennis whites. Probably a white collar criminal who somehow didn't make it into the country club correctional facility.There was also a large bandstand with instruments already set up. The band hadn't started yet and the sound system was blasting the Allman Bros. song "In Memory Of Elizabeth Reed". I didn't ask how she died.I think we were a little nervous.We were only allowed to bring our baseball stuff, no cameras, phones, street clothes, etc. Cigarettes are okay but only for another three weeks and then they become "contraband".We got our cleats on and took some infield. I immediately let a ball go through my legs and Aaron, who was trading off with me at shortstop said to be careful 'cause I was showing weakness.I wasn't really that nervous...what was the worse that could happen? A shiv in the kidney? hmm.The game started. Their pitcher was called Stretch for obvious reasons. He was about 6'6" and built like a rail. He had a pretty quick fastball and a hard late breaking curve.First inning was scoreless 3 up 3 down on both sides.Top of the second we got a bit of a rally going and scored 3 runs to take the lead on some hard won hits. We had eighteen guys (which was too many) and everybody was batting. I batted tenth and at my first at bat I sat on his curve and whacked one down the third base line. Unfortunately the third baseman made a fine play and I was thrown out. But I felt okay with that and at the bottom of the second went out to play shortstop.Of course the first batter would hit to me. I fielded it cleanly and threw him out at first. Yes. My first put out in prison. Sweet.The next guy up for them ropes one to right center that bounces over the barbwire topped chain link fence. Ground rule double. As he pulls up at second I say, Hey, nice hit. He doesn't even look at me.Okey dokey.After that was a bit of mayhem as they scored 6 runs and got our our pitcher fairly rattled. He isn't one of our regular guys and since he had organized the event he had started himself as pitcher. He definitely would not have been any of our guys first choice. After the inning ended he said he wanted to throw one more inning and was pretty much told to hand the ball over to someone else. It didn't really matter though, they ended up scoring eighteen runs total to our four. Aaron, the other shorstop, hit one over the right field fence for a home run which was our only other run in the game.I got up again in the sixth and got a base hit over the shortstops head. We ended up only getting six hits and I think, the official tally on our errors was also six, but I think we definitely had more than that.During the game some of the inmates came up and chatted with us though the fence near the dugout. They were good guys and were giving us shit. They particularly liked Brian and got on us when he was pitching and we made some errors. Of course Brian had dropped two easy fly balls when he was playing centerfield but they didn't mention that.The inmates could walk all around the yard and even stand or sit at the edge of the outfield against the fence. There were a bunch of guys out there and the rule was it if it hit them it was a ground rule double. In about the eighth inning a guy was sitting out there and he had a giant silver belt buckle that was reflecting the sun right into the batters eyes. He was totally oblivious and the home plate umpire had to yell out to him to cover it up.At a couple times during the game suddenly all the inmates would freeze and get down on one knee. It was kind of eery. When there is an emergency the guards ring a bell and all the inamtes have to get down and freeze so the guards can see what is happening. We were told to remain standing. Then they would sound the all clear and everything would go back to normal. It happened twice while we were there and no one on our team heard the warning bell. All of a sudden the players would get down and we would realize the bell must have gone off.It was a good game, we had fun and afterwards we lined up to shake the opposing teams hands and they all seemed like nice guys who were appreciative of us for coming out to play them.We have plans to go back and play them again. Hopefully with the jitters gone and a trimmed down team we can be a little more competitive. I'll definitely go back-I'm batting .500 in the Prison League.

Spring Straining

Well, we made it through the storms, the mountains got some snow, and now the new season is upon us. Sunday’s game had thrills and chills, and mishaps, and that was just the permit snafu. We were bit in the ass by our own sneakiness, and found that there was a league game scheduled an hour after our game time. We had no legal recourse, and fighting seemed unnecessary, so we tried to fit in the most we could in an hour and the devil take the high road. Bartlett led his team on the bump, and looked like he hadn’t missed a step in the rain out, pouring the ol’ pill in with the usual nasty movement. The teams seemed a little lopsided when we started but, in the end, it was one of the better balanced games we have had. Satch started for the home squad, and did three unimpressive innings. Mike came in with his funky stuff, and then Sean “Elephant Pockets” came in to close it down.

We got four solid innings in, before having to relinquish the field, and then wandered the St. Ignatius grounds in search of a ball field. We found an open one, but even hitting with wood bats, and a handicap, we still would have knocked every other pitch out of the park. There was talk of storming the Presidio field for old times sake, but cooler heads prevailed, and diplomacy won in the end. We waited for little league practice to break up on the JV field, and took over. Funny how stiff you get in 30 minutes… But the field was passable, and it was nice to have a left field fence for once.

I won’t say this was the sharpest game we have ever played, but there were some surprisingly good plays, for a group that has been waterlogged for the last month. Maybe it was playing on the little league field twice in a row…or maybe just the natural passion in the rubes that come out for our Sunday thing.

In any case, the game was held, and I don’t know if a one of us could say there was anywhere else in the world we would have rather been.

Highlights

* Timely hitting, a lot seeing eye ground balls, bloops, gappers

* Rick’s colossal hit

* Gaspar’s back pedaling snare of Rick’s colossal hit, which none of us thought he had a chance to get

* Is that Jackie Robinson???? No, it’s BIG STICK stealing home for the go ahead run, sliding head first, no fear….

* Greg, for taking a lot of shots to the chest, legs, and other areas where you don’t want baseballs hitting you

* Team USA for his heads up play, you gotta run those out Lattig! (Ok, it was kind of a dick move, but still…)

* Everyone who hit the cutoff man, makes it a lot easier, doesn’t it?

* Bob only got hit once (I am thinking of starting a tally, so we can document the multi-hit games?)

* The fact that we had a game, 22 guys showed up, and no one was injured (although I’m a little more sore than usual).


Well, ‘nuff sed,

S. Paige

Don't Jinx it you say, what have we got to lose, I say.

FridayPartly cloudy. Highs in the upper 50s. Northwest winds 10 to 20 mph.

Friday NightPartly cloudy. Lows in the lower 40s. Northwest winds 10 to 20 mph decreasing to 5 to 10 mph after midnight.

SaturdayPartly cloudy. Highs in the mid 50s to lower 60s. West winds 5 to 10 mph.

Saturday NightPartly cloudy. Lows in the mid 40s.

SundayMostly sunny. Highs in the 50s.

Sunday Night and MondayPartly cloudy. Lows in the mid 40s. Highs in the upper 50s.




So, if things go right, and everyone brings a rake, we should have a game this week. There, I said it. If we don't blame the forecasters for getting my hopes up.

Top Five things that convince me that I need to play baseball sooner rather than later:

5. Cleaning the house is not as much fun as clearing the bases

4. In boring work meetings, I find myself thinking about creative ways to throw pitches

3. Real exercise sucks- baseball exercise rules

2. The game on Sunday makes the weekend seem like you accomplished more than got drunk and spent money that you didn't have.

1. I can't stand people who pontificate for hours about the game, and then you ask if they ever played, and it's always, Oh, the coach was an asshole, or Yeah, but then I didn't like competing, or No, but you don't have to play to know about it...Talking about baseball is what old guys and frustrated nerds do. Playing baseball is what real fans do.

PLAY BALLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Player Profile #6 Mike Lattig

I started to get optimistic about a game this week, but Jebus Chrispo, it looks like more rain, so we are stuck with looking out the window, and hoping for a end to the deluge.

This profile will be the first, ughhh, errr, aghhhh, proud Dodger fan of the bunch. Believe me, there are others, and they will all get their turn, but this is the first. Actually, as much as I bleed black and orange, I really don’t hate the Dodgers very much. I dislike Los Angeles, but you can’t blame the Dodgers for that, blame Walter O’Malley.
In fact I feel downright bad for Dodger fans that come to the Giants games, because they are just there to root for their squad and enjoy a game like the rest of us. The fact that they get accosted, screamed at, spit upon and shanked in parking lots is really beyond the pale as far as sports goes. It’s a game, people. But somewhere along the way, it was decided that pride in your team could extend beyond cheering for your own squad, and more into downgrading the other. The real saps are us fans, feeling like we have some vested interest in a bunch of guys playing the same game that we do, knowing full well our “favorite players” would probably push us out into traffic if we got in their way to the VIP club…

And to pick actual fights over a sports team is just lame, be it baseball or curling. In Europe, they separate soccer fans in stadiums (damn commie sport) to keep the riots down, and they are supposed to be more civilized than us. Go figure.

Anyway, Mike Lattig, he’s a Dodger fan, and a smart one. He is always up to date on how the Giants are going to shit the bed this year, and most of the time he’s right (he said teeth gnashing, just ONCE, PLEASE LORD, LET THEM WIN JUST ONCE!!!!).

But enough about that, Mike is probably the best natural hitter we have, as I have said in previous entries. He can place the ball pretty much where he wants to, and the fact that he is left-handed makes it all the more tricky to play him, knowing that if you play the pull, he can hit it just as hard to left. Once, at the neo-turf Silver Terrace field, I was playing third base, and pretty far of the line, and Mike hit one down the 3rd base line, intentionally. I wish I could do that. I wish I could have a clue of whether I was gonna make contact, much less the direction of the ball.

Mike is another all around player as well, he pitches, I learned how to throw a different breaking ball from him, he scoops it all up around 1st, and can move quick, when he needs to. He also is one of the few who wears shorts consistently, which means you have an advantage if you can get him into a sliding situation. But usually doubles to the gap aren’t sliding situations. I think Mike carries a solid .700 average, but since no one really keeps track, all those records will fade into the ether (a sigh of relief from us pitchers.)

I also like that Mike is a competitor, which in small doses, make our game lively. And he pushes us to make the game more than a bunch of jag offs on a field in polyester pants. We need that sometimes, and Mike understands the measures of a little friendly competition. He’s a grounded guy to boot, and he laughs at some of my jokes, so you can’t argue with that.

Classy, that’s the word. A man that knows how a Manhattan should taste, and I am not just saying that because he and Jen came to the Elks lodge to see the band once (although you should all know that I keep a mental list of who has and hasn’t….)

So when it comes down to it, who cares which team you follow, as long as you know how play the game right.

Pray for sun and wind, March here we come!

S. Paige


PS

Unfortunately, the post scripts have become the place where Pete gets mentioned, but here are two videos shot by Bob at our last game, Pete striking out, Jimmy flying out, and Mitch grounding out. If you look carefully, you will see what appears to be a hippopotamus on 2nd base. But at least the hippo got a hit….

Player Profile #5- Nick Smith

This is Nick. He has been playing longer than me, which is about all I know about his baseball history. I know he works for Pixar, as an editor, but I don't think they have a baseball team. Nick is an anomaly in our game, as he a.) appears to have stopped aging at 39, and b.) is still faster on the base paths than most of our team.

At the plate, Nick is one of the more frustrating hitters to face, as he loves to hit line drives the other way, right field gaps are his favorite, and since he has the speed still, he can make you pay for it.

Another reason Nick is an anomaly to our game is that he is "normal" by society's standards. He is married, with kids, and a full time real job and two cars, in general seems to have his shit together. ..which helps when we need him to get permits, gear, SQ dates, etc.

Nick's defense is almost as stellar as his offense, I can't figure the number of times I have seen him dig something out of the dirt on a play that I thought there was no chance we would get the guy. As a pitcher, its a good feeling. As a sub-par shortstop, it's a life saver.....

Nick's kid comes out from time to time, when he isn't living the good life of a young buck, and has accompanied us to SQ a few times. He is one of only two guys from our team to hit a home run at the Field of Dreams, and from what I heard it was a shot. He gets that from his pops.

The other thing I like about Nick is that he is a committed cigarette smoker. I don't condone smoking (cigarettes) by any means, but if you are gonna do it, I admire it if you are realistic and unapologetic about it. There is a certain style in being glad you flied out for an RBI, so you can sit on the bench and have a quick butt before the inning ends. Richard B. still takes the smoker prize, for his warming up on the mound with smoke in lips, and behind mound smoke stash.
Nick is also reliable, and he lives close enough to me that I can bum a ride from him from time to time. What more do you need?

Keep a sunny day in mind for Sunday!

S. Paige

Player Profile #4- Johnny Bartlett

Well, its raining, and there is little chance of a game this week, so I reckoned on getting a few more stories told while we watch the water fall....

Johnny Bartlett. I knew him long before I met him. Circular commentary I know, but its true. I first heard of Johnny when I moved to the city, in 1995, as an impressionable 17 year old, out of the grips of small town. I had a cousin and a brother in the City who helped me get acquainted and showed me what they thought was cool. Ok, some of it was....Johnny was the lead guitar player for the Phantom Surfers, known as Big Hand, a handle given I can only imagine, for his chops with the Jazzmaster. My cousin Mike Lavella had started a magazine dedicated to muscle cars and punk rock, called Gearhead, (surprisingly still in business, Issue #18 out this month I think) and the Phantom Surfers were on his top 10 bands at the time, along with Gas Huffer and The fastbacks. We would sit and listen to P.S. records while stuffing magazines in protective plastic (hey he provided beer).

Anyway, I had this appreciation for a guy who played awesome guitar, and wore a lone ranger mask at concerts, pretty sweet. My personal favorite band at the time was The Pogues ( I know, join the idiot masses), The Breeders (ah Kim Deal) and Tom Waits (that should get a little street cred back) but I digress.

Oh, PS., I used to also really enjoy going to The Go-nuts shows- SNACK ROCK! (just to bring the whole thing full circle), and Skankin' Pickle concerts.....so now you can all whip the hell out of me with that piece of info.

On a seemingly separate topic, my brother took over the cousins apartment in the Tenderloin, on Leavenworth, and since I was underage, we had to frequent the diviest bars possible to get service. Some of my personal favorites were the Hunter, Harringtons (where a drunk horse jockey invited us to the track to watch him race, and an hour later was picking a fight with me), Geary Club (smallest bar ever), and the Brown Jug, where Ulysses held court. After drinking illicitly for a night, my brother and I would walk home and always we would stop to admire these bowling pin curtains that hung in a street level apartment on Post and Leavenworth. Good times.

Get to the fucking point, you might be saying, and here it is. It was Johnny's apartment, and I now have those curtains in my possession....A lot of lead up for not much payoff, I know, but I am trying to show how threaded life can be. I told this story to Johnny once at a game and the next week, there were the curtains, resplendent in all their glory. As an added bonus I found out that they had hung in the Phantom Surfers touring van, which I think is very cool. And he gave them to me, without a second thought, not too many people I know would do something like that without an agenda. But that's Johnny, all heart, and no agenda.

So not only is Johnny a great guy, and an amazing musician, but he's also great ball player. He's the closest we have to a five tool player, ( most of us are just tools, sorry, I made that joke last week, and needed to insert it somewhere). He can pitch (with a natural slider action) , hit (anything), throw (in the sun, in the wind), plays third like Brooks Robinson, and still has more get up and go than a lot of us. Johnny had a streak of three winning complete games last year, which has to be some sort of record for us, and no matter how I try, he always seems to get the best of me with the bat. I have my moments, but the guy is the best bad ball hitter I have seen, and since that's my bread and butter, I get burned more than I care to say. My regret is that because of his skills, he and I don't get to be on the same team too often, but in our game, the other team is still all your friends, so it works out.

Along with playing good, Johnny has perfected looking good. He wears real vintage wool uniforms, something I envy a great deal (but actually finding a XXL vintage uniform is like throwing a perfect game...blindfolded). He has also been responsible for getting the MBC shirts organized (the non-fading ones, sorry Girgus) which are the closest thing to a team uniform that we have so far, you can see them in the San Quentin photo.

And he's just a good guy. Doesn't argue calls, compliments the hitter, and he shows up regularly, which these days almost overshadows everything else.

Well that's the old rufus goofus for today, stay dry

S. Paige

Little League Baseball 7x7x7

Well, with the rain this week, I guess I can say that we were happy to get a game in....

There was a championship league game or something on our field, so we had to make do on the little league field at Balboa. We were promised a weeks free permit if we gave up the field, and after a little deliberation we gave in and headed for the far field. Our bases ended up being about 75 feet, and the mound was somewhere between 56-62 feet. But hey, it beats a rain out. I think everyone involved had some trouble running with the grass to dirt to grass lip to dirt process, but we all made it through fairly unscathed (take care of that hammy Neel.)

We instituted a wooden bat only rule to keep the game in check, and Dennis started on the bump for the home team, yours truly faced off for the visiting warriors. I got to say that Satch thrives on games in the ambiguous realm. Dennis threw 6 for the first time and kept the pill all around the zone. Crackatoa treated our team pretty well, I must say, and we notched up a healthy lead early. The home squad just seemed to be swinging at my slowball, which was alright with me, cuz the moist air made for a heavy pitching day. However, I don't know if I have seen the ball flying so live in the outfield, so I guess my wet ball theory doesn't hold too much water (natch).

The game was a little lopsided for a few innings, and the wind and clouds kept coming and going, but like in all games, one error begat another, and line drives and long bombs ensued and the home squad was threatening comeback. Being 7 on 7, we had a few unlucky players who had to do the inning and a half of defense, but hey, that's what happens. Unfortunately as the sun faded in the west the wind picked up and the temperature started to drop. The Championship game ended and the field opened up, but we decided that we should finish what we started on our own field of dreams....at least until the end of the 7th, and then we got tired of freezing our asses off and called it a game.

Had a flash of my very first little league team, the Pirates. I was the only kid on the team that used a wooden bat....in fact I think I was the only kid that could heft the thing. Back then, I just thought that was the only way to play the game. Being older now, and poorer to boot, I avoid the wood for fear of breaking someone's $65 dollar investment. But the wood bat sound is true, and that is what I got most out of today's game; the cacophony of clicks and snicks of a good piece of hickory on the old horsehide.

Highlights

* A good clean game

* Chris, Neel, Bob, Tony, Satch, Noah, for giving the pill a first class ticket to the Himalayas...a couple of times each.

* The knuckleball Greg swung at, not my best, but it had some funk

* Dennis doing his part with the bump and the bat

* Johnny back in form, glad your airsacks are back on track Chief!

* Bob for getting our permits, so we had some legal swing in the Championship snafu (remember to toss some lettuce his way when you get a chance)

* The fact that the monsoon that has descended while your humble servant writes this out waited until we finished our game

* The successful dusting off of the time honored old favorite center fielder pickoff manuever, almost a two pickoff day, if Tony's catlike reflexes hadn't saved him one more time (yeah that throw was a little wide too)

Looks like the February rains have come, which we need, so get some liniment and a medicine ball and lets all start gearing up for spring.

Well....lets have a few more games before that happens.

See you under the tarp

S. Paige


PS

Here is an official picture of Pete Simonelli in baseball gear. It was great to see a East coast player out in the sun, and a hell of a good show at the Hemlock that night too...

Superbowl, pfffffffffffffffffffff.....

Well, after all the whining and complaining and threatening, we finally had a full team out there, even an extra here and there. The day couldn't have been better, the teams were evenly matched, and we had a surprise visit from not one but three historical players, Dani and Pete and a much late but great Brustus appearance.

The game went briskly and the see-saw was in effect. There were thrills, spills, and cheers....and we weren't watching the Superbowl, so that made it extra nice.

The final score was 6-5, and I found myself on the losing side for the first time in quite a while. I got to give the other squad credit, they came through when they needed to, and Johnny and Sean combined to keep us off balance. Noah backed me up solidly, but a few errors and flares and a Rick big fly and all of a sudden we were sucking hind left tit. Eh, it happens. I do love a tight contest though, funny how we actually take it seriously sometimes....well, not too seriously.

Now I know I have been bragging about the beautiful days as of late, but this one might have been the best....and maybe it was added by the high quality game and the stalwart players that came out.

So for all of those suckers that watched the Superbowl, you missed a game that will be referenced again....and those who were there will know what we're talking about....

For our East Coast brethren, stay warm, and loose, Spring training is on its way.

Highlights:

* Rick, again, with the hits and rbi's...and one error, you still owe us.

* Solid double play when I needed it, Mitch to Dani to Nick

* Yours truly finally struck out Lattig, for the first time since 2006, I think.

* Gaspar up the middle????

* The return of Johnny Bartlett, good to see you the north side of a six foot hole, my friend, hope you feel better....

* Bob catching a tricky pop up while I was barreling in on him

* Greg and Adam for missing the popups I gave 'em.

* And a day spent in pursuit of a true American past time.

Now where's the Advil, ice and booze?


S. Paige