Notes from the past

It measures just 9 inches in circumference.  Weighs only about 5 ounces and is made of cork, wound with wool and yarn covered with two layers of cowhide, and stitched by hand precisely 108 times. The stitching, if stretched out, would extend 88 feet in length.

That is the physical description of a baseball.

What a baseball means to me is entirely different.  Back on January 8th  I described how I became a Met fan and fell in love with the game itself.  But baseball, the game, in my estimation, is the greatest game ever created. 

How am I gonna fall asleep after a day like that?

My inner 51-year old will be asleep before the 11:00 news is over.

My inner 10-year old will be awake 24 hours a day for the next five straight days. 

Luckily, he doesn't drive.

I had a nutritious breakfast before I.........okay, it wasn't as nutritious as it could've been. It was quite tasty, however. I try to avoid nutrition as I sometimes tell people "nutrition- (pronounced nu-tree-shee-ohn) is a French word which loosely translated means "devoid of real taste". As a matter of fact, a comedian once said, "children who eat a balanced breakfast are  the only ones who throw-up in gym class".  

Even though I'm at my second camp, I still felt like a rookie today when the day began. That all went away when I approached the batter's box for my first at bats of a game and the catcher stood up and said, "Welcome back, Rod". I said thank you and that it was good to be back. I didn't think that anyone even remembered me from the previous year's camp. The catcher was Bill Waschenko. I knew from just watching him and the other veterans how much Bill is respected in this group and thus I felt like he'd taken my training wheels off and now I was one of the veterans. I will always remember that moment when I think of MFC. Thanks, Bill. 

Baseball- It reminds of all that once was good, and it could be again. And today it was very, very good to me. 

I. Love. This. Game.

The photos of the team after our victory are just moments, frozen in time, to be reflected upon in years to come. Most of my friends know how much I love Billy Joel. Billy recorded a song called "Souvenir" back in the mid-seventies. It's literally only 2 minutes long. But it speaks to how "Every year's a souvenir that slowly fades away." I hope that the memories made today and this week fade away as slowly as possible. 

Greetings to you, blog reader. Allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Rod Collins. I reside in a suburb of Minneapolis, Minnesota. I have been a baseball fan for as long as I can remember. I grew up in Stamford, Connecticut as a fan of the New York Metropolitans, known by most everyone as the Mets.  I was born in 1961 on the same day on which ground was broken for Flushing Meadow Park.  Flushing Meadow Park was later renamed Shea Stadium, which closed following the 2008 Mets season. This being said, you now know why I am referred to as "Sheakid".

This year's blog will be my third, as I posted them in both 2013 and 2014 while I attended Mets Fantasy Camp in Port St. Lucie, Florida.  For those of you who may not be knowledgeable in what fantasy camps are and what they are all about let me tell you a bit about them.  Former major-league catcher Randy Hundley is credited with having originated the idea of a "fantasy camp" in the early 1980's. They were called Dream Weeks back then. These camps allow fans, usually aged 40 and older, to play the game they love in a camp setting where they wear authentic uniforms and play against each other while being coached by former players of their favorite team. Sometimes these camps can command a fairly large price tag, nearing as much as $5,000 for a week of fun.  While baseball is probably the most popular sport for camps, there are camps in the other major U.S. sports as well.

I first heard about MFC in my 30s and thought about how cool it would be to attend such a thing.  I quickly found that the cost of such a venture would prove to be somewhat prohibitive to such an event taking place.  I always kept it in the "bucket list" category, however.  

Now, I love baseball and I love the New York Mets. I lived and died with them for so many years while growing up. I followed them when I moved to Tampa to attend college and was lucky in that a local station, WTOG, channel 44 carried Mets games on Friday nights on over-the-air television.  Remember, this was pre-satellite tv and the sports packages which they afford to subscribers.  

I also followed them when I moved to Minneapolis in 1988 to start the next chapter of my life.  It was tougher because of regional coverage and the fact that the local nine were in the American League, while the Mets reside in the National League.  I arrived just after the Twins had won their first World Championship in 1987, firm in the belief that it would probably be the ONLY world championship in their history.  But, before I knew it, I had gotten a part-time job with the team and was standing on the field while the Twins celebrated right behind me after defeating Atlanta in the fantastic Fall Classic of 1991. I could never have foreseen such an event. I eventually got a full-time job in the front office of the Twins which got me closer to the game than I could ever have imagined.  Heck, I got to be the mascot for a couple of years. I got to hang out with players who were marginal at best and others who were hall of famers like Harmon Killebrew, Tony Oliva and Kirby Puckett. My dreams of playing professionally were replaced by my later occupation. Nirvana reached.

Following my unexpected departure from the Twins I took 2002 off from baseball. When I say I took the year off I mean I didn't watch SportsCenter or anything baseball-related for the entire season. To do such a thing would have been unconscionable to me before it happened. But it was what I needed to do in order to keep some semblance of sanity. I did resume watching baseball in 2003.

I first heard about MFC in my 30s and thought about how cool it would be to attend such a thing.  I quickly found that the cost of such a venture would prove to be somewhat prohibitive to such an event taking place.  I always kept it in the "bucket list" category, however.  

Now, I love baseball and I love the New York Mets. I lived and died with them for so many years while growing up. I followed them when I moved to Tampa to attend college and was lucky in that a local station, WTOG, channel 44 carried Mets games on Friday nights on over-the-air television.  Remember, this was pre-satellite tv and the sports packages which they afford to subscribers.  

I also followed them when I moved to Minneapolis in 1988 to start the next chapter of my life.  It was tougher because of regional coverage and the fact that the local nine were in the American League, while the Mets reside in the National League.  I arrived just after the Twins had won their first World Championship in 1987, firm in the belief that it would probably be the ONLY world championship in their history.  But, before I knew it, I had gotten a part-time job with the team and was standing on the field while the Twins celebrated right behind me after defeating Atlanta in the fantastic Fall Classic of 1991. I could never have foreseen such an event. I eventually got a full-time job in the front office of the Twins which got me closer to the game than I could ever have imagined.  Heck, I got to be the mascot for a couple of years. I got to hang out with players who were marginal at best and others who were hall of famers like Harmon Killebrew, Tony Oliva and Kirby Puckett. My dreams of playing professionally were replaced by my later occupation. Nirvana reached.

Good fate has given me another opportunity to attend this year and in five days I will travel south to Florida once again for one more chance to push the sun back up in the sky and add to the memory bank which I will withdraw from when I get old and am unable to play this game that I love so very much.  

I will be posting between now and the start of camp and then each day during camp  I hope you will follow my activities and that you enjoy the ride almost as much as I do. I got great feedback from those who have read my previous MFC blogs and enjoyed them a great deal. I hope you will do the same.  

If you'd like to read my account of the 2013 MFC, go to: 2013metsfantasycamp.blogspot.com.

If you'd like to read my account of the 2014 MFC, go to:
2014metsfantasycamp.blogspot.com

On this, the eve of 2016 New York Mets Fantasy Camp, there is much which is unknown. What IS known is that I am in Port St. Lucie, in high anticipation of what lays ahead. But there are participants who are being held hostage by Jonas. Not Nick Jonas, but winter storm Jonas. They actually give names to winter storms now, much like the practice when a hurricane forms. Many of my fellow campers are set to fly down from the New York City area. But if any of you have been near a news report in the last 24-36 hours you know what the conditions are there. Some of you may even BE stuck in that area as you read this. 

I take great pride in residing in an area of these United States where what the east coast calls Jonas, we call "Saturday". Granted, I have great sympathy for those players. As of right now, about 45 or so of them will not arrive until Monday evening. They will arrive after three flights that day. Our fearless leader, Doug Dickey, has done his best to make this week's schedule of events come together as close to the original plan. I am far from envious of that young man, that's for sure. 

I actually arrived into the Sunshine State last night when my Sun Country flight touched down in Orlando around 10:20 p.m.  I changed my own itinerary in order to attend the memorial for my late aunt Beatrice, who passed away on January 8th. She lived to the age of 89, which is a damn good run if you ask me. She is the person who introduced me to the Mets and taught me about team loyalty, even when your team is absolutely worthless while on the field. We would sit in her apartment and watch the Mets on WOR channel 9, and win or lose, mostly lose, we would watch the entire game. This was in the days when games started at 8 pm. 8 pm! Can you believe that? Of course, games routinely lasted 2-2 1/2 hours. She was at games 3-5 of the 1969 World Series. It was one of the highlights of her life. We didn't share a ton of things, but we always knew we had a kindred spirit in each other.

 When I spoke today at her memorial I donned a white home Mets jersey over my white shirt and Mets-themed tie.  It was in her honor that I did so. My brother-in-law Sam, who is a professional piano player, played me to the podium with a light rendition of "Meet the Mets" on the organ.  It just happened that her memorial was on the day before I was due to arrive at fantasy camp. I am dedicating my time at fantasy camp to her this year. 

After some fun time with family members whom I don't see often enough, the drive down to PSL was my last step to readying myself for my exciting week. A stop at Duffy's Sports Bar gave me a chance to run into guys and gals whom I'd played with and against in 2013 and 2014. It's such fun to see the faces of fans who have a common bond with myself. They live and die with this team as do I and this year is different in that there will be a new pennant raised at Citi Field come April. Excitement for the upcoming season is rampant for the first time since the late '90s. 

Tomorrow those of us who are here will hit the field for some drills and the week will be underway. It'll probably be over before I know it, but I will try to bring it to you through my eyes and hope you enjoy the ride. 

Reunion Time- Part 2

May 13, 2013 may indeed go down as one of the top 5 days of my life.  Lemme tell you why.

Woke up this mornin' (no, I'm not going to break into a blues tune here), and prepared myself to go to the ballpark.  It was a bit more of a packing dilemma in the fact that it was also "getaway day" because after my game today I would be hopping a plane to head back to Minneapolis.

I arrived at New Shea at about 8:55 a.m. and was directed to the visiting team clubhouse where we would find out which team we would be playing for and what our uniform would be.  So there I was, roaming the underhalls of the stadium and walking along with my jaw dragging on the floor. Now, I spent 6 years wandering similar halls at the Metrodome, so I know how little the passageways offer as far as personality is concerned.  But here at New Shea they have framed 3'x5' framed photos of every Mets yearbook ever produced.  They are displayed in chronological order as you walk in a clockwise direction. Many of them provoking dozens of childhood memories from my personal collection at home.

I made my way into the visiting clubhouse and turned the corner to find the corkboard displaying the team rosters and uniform of the day. I found that I was a member of the Miracles and that we would be wearing the grey road jersey with "NEW YORK" displayed on the front.  The Miracles would be made up of members of 5 teams from January.  Our opponents would be the Amazins and they would be wearing the home cream-colored jerseys with "METS" across the chest.  The Amazins would be comprised of players from the other 5 January teams from our week in Florida.

I walked into the locker room and it was quite impressive, especially for a visiting clubhouse.  Far, far away from its Metrodome counterpart.  I found a locker and began to begin getting on my uniform.  As I did I was interrupted now and then by fellow players whom I hadn't seen in 4 months. All around the room similar greetings were being exchanged in the upbeat surroundings.  I made an attempt to take in all of the happenings before I readied myself for the walk which would take me to the playing field of my favorite baseball team.

I checked that everything on my uniform was set.  Shoes tied, belt buckled, hat on, shirt buttoned, sunglasses on hat, and of course zipper up.  So now was the time.  I made the left turn, down the stairs which I had seen many times on Mets broadcasts and headed out to the dugout.  The sun was out and it welcomed me to the green grass and finely manicured dirt of Citi Field.  Christmas Day was here.

I'm sure that I must've looked like I was awestruck as I moved slowly through the visiting dugout.  The field was kinda cluttered with the batting cage and multiple protective screens placed around the field which are used for batting practice.  We  gathered the group and talked with Doug Dickey about how things would progress through the day.  Batting practice would begin around 9:45 and that the game would begin around 12:30.  We would each get 7 swings for batting practice to keep things going, because there were about 90 players taking part in the game.

Each team would have 45 players so we all knew that we would only get one turn at bat.  There may be a small number who may get a second, but that would be a rare thing.  I would be batting 23rd for the Miracles and would hit the field in the bottom of the 3rd on defense.

Batting practice was a great deal of fun as we all soaked in the surroundings of the ballpark.  The time on the auxiliary scoreboards over our heads was moving far too quickly.  When I got my chance to hit, I hit only one foul ball and the other six I hit pretty much "on the screws".  So I was more than confident in my hitting abilities at that point.

After bp was over we had some lunch in the stands and then prepared ourselves for the game ahead.  We all made our way out to our respective foul lines and we stood at attention for the national anthem. After that it was time to play ball. It was in the high 50's as far as the temps were concerned, but it could've been in the high 20's for all of us on that field.

In the middle of the third it was time for me to take the field. I would be playing first base when I did.  I ran out onto that field as though I'd been shot out of a cannon.  I usually run onto the field in my softball league because I realize that there will come a day when I won't be able to do so, either because of physical ailment or just plain oldness. I don't want to get to that place and wish I had run onto the field each time.  I threw the ball around the infield to my teammates knowing that I was in the same territory as Ike Davis and others from around major league baseball.  We allowed a couple of base runners and with two outs the batter hit a slow roller towards the mound, but our pitcher swooped in, made a good pickup and throw and we nipped the runner at first.  The throw was a tough one to pick up as it kinda came over the runner's left shoulder but my concentration was keen and I made the catch to retire the side.  I was grinning from ear to ear as I ran off the field.

In the top of the 5th I came to the plate with one down. I heard my name announced by Alex Anthony, the p.a. announcer who actually does the Mets games at home, and settled in for my at bat.  I took the first two pitches for balls and then laced the next pitch over the third base bag.  I reached first base and clapped my hands knowing that I had singled in my first at bat at New Shea.  I reached second on an infield hit and during a time out looked around and said aloud to myself, "I'm on freakin' second base at Citi Field! How cool is this?" The next batter went down on strikes and the inning was over, but my batting average of 1.000 was going to be great to go home with.

My day on the field was done for a few innings and I got to play defense again in the bottom of the 8th, this time at third base. So I ran like the wind to third base and thought about our captain David Wright, who hangs out there on occasion.  I didn't get any plays in this half inning, but it was great to have a chance to be out there again.

The game ended not too long after that, with the Amazins winning by a 6-3 score.  There were three innings in which the Amazins did not score and my team was responsible for two of them, so we were fairly proud of that fact.  When the final out was recorded we shook hands and reflected on our day.  None of us wanted to leave, but the time had come to get back to reality.  I made my way to the clubhouse and took a fast shower and dressed for the trip back to the hotel to get the luggage and then off to LaGuardia for the flight to Chicago.

The coolest thing about sharing this event with these guys is the fact that it adds to our common bond. We all love the New York Mets.  We all sit/stand around talking about great moments from the franchise.  We share stories about "where were you when...." and sentences that begin with the words "How about when......." or "Do you remember..........".  We live and die with this team.  We celebrate when they win and a part of us dies when they lose.  I cried a little when Johan Santana threw his no-hitter.  I'm sure I wasn't alone. Mostly because like many Met fans I never thought it would happen. We were playing at the home of our current heroes. We talk badly of them at times but never allow anyone else to do so.  We get to wear the same uniform of our heroes, as though we could be on the bench right along side of them if they needed us.  But it runs through us like a common thread.  I didn't travel the furthest distance to be there, as we had a guy from Saskatchewan who made the trip.  He, like myself, was a rookie this year and he wasn't going to miss it for the world.

We  received a DVD from our week in Florida as well as our own set of 100 baseball cards. They look just like regular baseball cards, same paper stock, same colors and they look great. My picture was taken with my glove on rather than my bat during a swing.

It's going to take me a couple of days to come down from this high.  I tried to describe it as best I could for you, but it's hard to put feelings of pure joy on paper.  Otherwise you would feel it right now yourself.  I've often wondered how different a place the world would be if every person could feel that sense of joy for one full day.  If you are reading this blog, I hope that YOU have the chance to feel that joy of your own.

If you've enjoyed my blog postings at all you can check out my "regular" postings by going to ramblinrod.blogspot.com.

I probably should've smiled on my card picture. But I guess I can do that next year.

Yeah, I said it. NEXT year.

Reunion, part 1

Since Fantasy Camp ended in January, nearly every one of us began looking forward to the reunion weekend during the regular season.  None of us knew when that would be, given the fact that the team had to decide when we could get the use of the field.  The Mets are hosting this year's All-Star Game, and that fact threw a monkey wrench into the planners for sure.

We found out in March that the reunion would take place on the weekend of May 10-13.  The visiting team would be the Pirates of Pittsburgh.  The schedule called for the campers to be on the field prior to the game on Friday night, attend that game in seats which would be in a group for players and their guest(s), then we would play ON THE FIELD on Monday the 13th.

The weeks passed slowly, especially here in Minneapolis, where the winter seemingly went on for....ever!  We had measurable snow as late as May 3rd, so the 10th of the month couldn't come soon enough. But the morning of the 10th eventually DID arrive.  I hopped a plane at 5:45 a.m. to Atlanta and arrived in Flushing, NY at about 2 p.m.

After checking into a hotel near Citi Field, I made my way to the check-in area at the stadium and greeted some of the guys whom I recognized from my Florida week in January.  We eventually got the group rounded up around 6:30 and we made our way onto the outfield warning track after getting ourselves in alphabetical order by last name. I was the 10th person onto the field as we went out.  By the time we were all out on the field I was just to the left of the 408' sign on the outfield wall.  It was such a thrill to look up and see the new Home Run apple raised up over the fence.  And way up above that was the large video board.  A few minutes later it was time to turn toward home plate as p.a. announcer Alex Anthony was going to be introducing us by name as we were going to be shown on the video board.  I turned and readied myself as I heard my name being spoken.  As it was I stepped forward and doffed my cap as I had seen countless players do prior to the All-Star Game,  the first game of the World Series or Opening Day.  They don't show the last two of those on television anymore, which is too bad. I guess the networks feel that that time is better spent on ads for beer or cialis.  I resisted the temptation to say "Hi, Mom!" as I already say that every day, whether I'm in uniform or not.

We got to stay out on the field for the national anthem, which was also a thrill.  After the anthem we began to make our way off the field.  NOW I was the 10th to last person to leave the field, which was very fortunate.  As we neared the bullpen door which we were using as out exit point, I looked over to the Mets relief pitchers who were making their way to the bullpen.  I yelled, "L.A.!" toward LaTroy Hawkins, who is a current relief pitcher for the Mets, but whom I knew from both of our times with the Twins.  He jogged over and we gave a quick hug to each other.  He asked if I was living in New York now, but I quickly told him that I was still in Minnesota. I told him that I left after the 2001 season and he said so did he.  I told him that I left the team because if he was gone, so was I.  We shook hands again and I walked off the field.  I immediately got major street cred as my fellow campers were stunned that I knew one of our current players.  I hadn't seen LaTroy in over a decade, but he still remembered me, so I was pleasantly surprised by that.

I made my way up to my seats and watched the Mets take on the Pirates. I had a chance to actually catch a foul ball off the bat of first baseman Ike Davis. I saw it all the way ,but still it went off of my left hand.  Foul balls are not my forte when I'm not wearing a glove on my left hand and it certainly showed on that night.

The Mets didn't fare well that evening against the Buccos and with the temperature falling in sync with the chances of pulling the game out many of us in the group started the exodus out of the New Shea before the final out was recorded.

So my return to the New York area is underway.  Tomorrow will be spent sightseeing in the city somewhere and then back to the ballpark for the Sunday matchup against the Pirates.  Monday is THE DAY as I take to the field with my fellow campers.  Sleeping on Sunday night may not be the easiest thing I've ever done.  I'm gonna be like a 10-year old on Christmas Eve.

Maybe a 7-year old.

Days 5 and 6 of 2013

19 January 2013

The end is near. Dammit.

One day closer to the end of camp. Easily the saddest opening of all of my posts to date. But true nonetheless. The day started like the last two did. After the morning meeting I made my way over to field 6 for our first game. It was the second round of the playoffs. They started yesterday but my team, the Jackson 11, did not qualify for them. The odd thing about the playoffs is that there were so many upsets in round 1.  The eighth-place team beat the leading team. The seventh-place team defeated the second-place team.  The sixth place team topped the third seeded team. Only the fourth seeded team defeated a team with a lower seed.

We dropped our first game today. After last night's Kangaroo Court where one team member stated that we were an awful team we were noodling with ideas as to how to inflict revenge. Someone brought up the hot foot possibility but none of us has all of the necessary items to make that work. My suggestion was that we duct tape Mr. Mapes to one of the flag poles in front of the clubhouse. That didn't win anyone over, but I thought it was funny. He might be 4'10" in his shower shoes so it wouldn't have taken very much duct tape. I was the starting pitcher and I was pitching fairly well for the first three innings. As a matter of fact, I was involved in practical joke in the first inning. The opposing manager, Wally Backman, asked that our pitcher throw an apple wrapped in cloth and with stitching drawn on it to his third batter, Mike Aranzullo. So, after pitching to the first two batters my catcher, Lynn Spuler, came out to the mound and she handed me the apple. I went back to the mound and immediately had to figure out how to throw this thing. How do I grip it? Then I wound up and threw a pitch on the inside of the plate. Aranzullo crushed it! Instant applesauce! I'm just glad I got it over the plate. It was fun to participate in that bit of theatre.

We kept the game close after I was done pitching. The strike zone disappeared on me again after I got hit by a pitch while batting and the pain in my hand was pretty bad. We dropped another 1-run game, unfortunately. After lunch we played game two. A light mist fell for the entire game. The sun never really did come out today. We were a coach short so Dwight Gooden helped coach the team. I singled to left to drive in two runs in the first inning. It was mega cool when after the third out was made Doc high-fived me as I ran off the field and said, "Nice hit!".

I started the game in left field and then moved over to first base. Since we were losing potential pinch runners due to hamstring issues with many runners I actually ran a lot on the base paths. I drew a walk late in the game and while I was on first base the next batter tripled into the alley forcing me to run first to home. That was a very long 270 feet, kids. But it felt good to make it without asking for oxygen.  We dropped yet another 1-run game. We finished at 1-6 but we had three 1-run losses.  We could just not put it together on any consistent basis.

After the game it was time to stop in the conference room to take a look at the photos that had been taken during the week. We will be receiving our own baseball cards in the summer at CitiField. Having done that it was off to the hotel to shower and prepare for the awards banquet.

The story of that and the final day of camp lies ahead in my next posting.

20 January 2013

Not ready to leave town yet.

Well, it's all over but the shouting. As I sit at gate B1 at Palm Beach International Airport I have begun the process of.....trying to process what the heck just happened over the last 6 days. As David Letterman used to say, "Sure, I'm tired. But it's a good tired."

Like I promised yesterday, let me step back to last night and the awards banquet.

It was a great deal of fun attended by virtually anyone who has anything to do with the camp. Having arrived later than most of the attendees meant that not a great deal of seating was remaining.  Luckily, as it turned out, I found myself seated next to Ed "The Glider" Charles who was a third baseman on the 1969 Amazing' Mets. I started by asking him about the last out of that series and what he remembered most about it.  He said that what he remembered was how much he wanted to get to the safety of the clubhouse as fans poured onto the field in droves as Cleon Jones caught a fly ball hit by one Dave Johnson. Ironically, Johnson would be the manager of the club when they won their only other championship to date in 1986.

We talked about his early career and his childhood in Daytona Beach, Florida. How he'd had a chance to meet Jackie Robinson when Jackie had come through the area while playing minor league ball for the Montreal Royals. He was too shy to meet him as a kid, but he did later in life only months before Jackie passed away in 1972. It was a fascinating conversation with a gentleman who had to endure much of the same prejudices in his career that Robinson did. I was like a little kid listening to some of these things. He probably doesn't get asked questions like that very often so he was in great spirits as you could see some of the sadness in his eyes as he talked about playing in the '50s and '60s that were less than hospitable to minorities. I told him about seeing Jackie when I was 10 years old as my mother pointed him out at a shopping center near my home in Stamford, CT.  If I'd had any idea that he would pass away less than 6 weeks from then, little Rod may have gotten up the courage to say hello to him.  But I remember that moment like it happened last week. I will never forget it. One note about my time with Ed.  Ed thinks that my name is Bob, so he referred to me as "Bobby". I didn't want to make him try to remember my real name so I just went along with it.

As the evening proceeded, each team was introduced and team MVPs were announced. There were also awards for best hitter, best pitcher, best defensive player, best catcher.  I got a huge surprise when my name was announced as a nominee for Rookie of the Year. I posted a batting average of .450 for the week, but I never expected that, considering that there were probably 40 rookies at camp. I'm not sure that those stats are entirely accurate, but I'll take it.

I made my way over to see Doug Flynn as he wouldn't be with us for the pro game today. He is on his way to Cincinnati Reds Fantasy Camp in Goodyear, Arizona. It was so great to meet him. I asked him about playing with the Big Red Machine in the mid-70's and about game 6 in 1975 in Boston. I told him that I didn't actually see Carlton Fisk's home run. Not live, at least. I was watching the game in Stamford that night and when the game went to commercial in the middle of the 12th inning, the power went out in my neighborhood.  Don't know why, don't know how. But when the power came back on, the game was over and they were showing numerous replays.  So I missed it live. Doug is a class act for sure.

Today was the pro game at the big stadium. The stadium, formerly known as Digital Domain Park until about two weeks ago, is the place where the Mets play their spring training games.  It is currently being referred to as Mets Stadium on mlb.com.  It was originally known as Thomas J. White Stadium in 1988 when it opened.  The pros played a 3-inning game against the campers.  Games started at 9 am and continued until each of the 10 teams had their shot.  The top teams played first, in the thought that the best team would have the best chance of winning their game. The Jackson 11 wouldn't be playing until 1:00 or so.  I got to the complex around 11:30 and then quickly put on my uniform to head to the ballpark.  I had a little lunch and headed down to the dugout.  I took in the atmosphere while the 7th place team played and warmed up while the 8th place team played.  Finally it was time for the Jackson 11 to take the field.  I was the fourth batter and faced Kevin Baez.  I knew to look for a good pitch and I swung at the first pitch but popped out to the shortstop.  I was the starting pitcher and it was so cool to be on the mound in the big stadium.

 The leadoff hitter was Doug Dickey, who was the coordinator of this year's Fantasy Camp.  Doug did a fantastic job on the effort.  He told me, before we met, that this was his first year at the helm.  He had a tough off-season, that's for sure.  He had to deal with Hurricane Sandy and the fact that he lost his father in the past few months.  On top of that trying to organize this thing for about 110 attendees, trainers, kitchen staff and the pro players.

I hit Doug in the hip with the first pitch I threw.  I heard him yell to me, as he reached first base, "There goes your renewal discount!" I replied, "I was afraid of that!"

The next batter was Kevin Baez.  I threw him a pitch that was basically behind him, as he stood in the right-hand batter's box. He managed to lay down a bunt by switching his hands and maneuvering his body.  It was a good bunt and I pounced on it. I threw Baez out by about a step on a one bouncer to my first baseman.  Dickey moved to second.  The next batter was Lenny Harris, the major league leader in all-time pinch hits.  I walked him on four awful pitches.  Next up was John Stearns, 4-time all-star catcher.  John doubled down the first base line to bring home Dickey and Harris and the inning was over.  There's a two run limit for the pros per inning. Thank goodness.

I played third base in the bottom of the 2nd and ended up in the on deck circle when the game ended.  At one point while playing third Dwight Gooden came to the plate.  At about that time I realized that in a few short weeks the ground I was standing on would be patrolled by one David Wright.  It was a moderately surreal moment, to be sure.  One I will not forget.

When our three-inning game was over I went back to the clubhouse and changed to head off to the airport in West Palm Beach, about 60 miles away, for the flight to Atlanta and the connection to Minneapolis.

It was certainly tough to leave the clubhouse for the last time.  Most of the others had headed off to the airport as their games had been played earlier in the day.  Ron Swoboda, a hero from the 1969 champions, came over to me as I was getting dressed.  He extended his hand and said, "Mr. Collins, I don't believe that I spoke much to you this week, but I'm glad that you were here.  I hope you enjoyed yourself."  I told him that I had and that I would certainly talk to him much more next year.

That's right.  There's already discussion at my house about returning in 2014.

In looking back, I recall that virtually 90% of all of the players had some sort of ache or pain which they were favoring by the end of camp.  One guy actually broke a rib in a collision.  There were numerous sore arms, legs and whatnot. I, apparently, was one of the few who left camp in basically the same condition that I arrived.  My only "injury" is that I have a bruise between my thumb and index finger on my right hand from getting jammed on a few pitches on the last two days of camp.  Other than that I am unscathed.

I sincerely thank all of those attendees whom I met. Especially my teammates: Steve Cohen, Ross Valenza, Rob Graham, Rick Bayuk, Kevin Bellows, Rob Thomson, Steve Fisher, Mike Varrone, Lynn Spuler and Tom Napes.  I am looking forward to this summer in New York when I get to see most of these people once again and have the chance to play with them again at Citi Field.

Words cannot describe how much I enjoyed this past week.  So I won't even attempt to do so here.  All I can say is that it was a dream come true.  The feeling of putting on the uniform of my favorite sports team is took me back to my youth.  It was as close to heaven on earth as I may have ever experienced.  For that I am truly grateful.

If you have been following this blog since the beginning I thank you for taking this journey, albeit vicariously, along with me.  I hope you enjoyed it.  I certainly enjoyed bringing it to you.  Some of you have told me that it gave you an insight into who I am and you may have learned things about me that you never knew.  If you got anything out of it at all, then it was worth my efforts.

I'm considering another blog, mostly about sports and life's observations in general.  If I do so, I will let you know.

Thanks for taking this fantastic voyage with me.

Until next time........

Rod

19 January-Day 5

19 January 2013

The end is near. Dammit.

One day closer to the end of camp. Easily the saddest opening of all of my posts to date. But true nonetheless. The day started like the last two did. After the morning meeting I made my way over to field 6 for our first game. It was the second round of the playoffs. They started yesterday but my team, the Jackson 11, did not qualify for them. The odd thing about the playoffs is that there were so many upsets in round 1.  The eighth-place team beat the leading team. The seventh-place team defeated the second-place team.  The sixth place team topped the third seeded team. Only the fourth seeded team defeated a team with a lower seed.

We dropped our first game today. After last night's Kangaroo Court where one team member stated that we were an awful team we were noodling with ideas as to how to inflict revenge. Someone brought up the hot foot possibility but none of us has all of the necessary items to make that work. My suggestion was that we duct tape Mr. Mapes to one of the flag poles in front of the clubhouse. That didn't win anyone over, but I thought it was funny. He might be 4'10" in his shower shoes so it wouldn't have taken very much duct tape. I was the starting pitcher and I was pitching fairly well for the first three innings. As a matter of fact, I was involved in practical joke in the first inning. The opposing manager, Wally Backman, asked that our pitcher throw an apple wrapped in cloth and with stitching drawn on it to his third batter, Mike Aranzullo. So, after pitching to the first two batters my catcher, Lynn Spuler, came out to the mound and she handed me the apple. I went back to the mound and immediately had to figure out how to throw this thing. How do I grip it? Then I wound up and threw a pitch on the inside of the plate. Aranzullo crushed it! Instant applesauce! I'm just glad I got it over the plate. It was fun to participate in that bit of theatre.

We kept the game close after I was done pitching. The strike zone disappeared on me again after I got hit by a pitch while batting and the pain in my hand was pretty bad. We dropped another 1-run game, unfortunately. After lunch we played game two. A light mist fell for the entire game. The sun never really did come out today. We were a coach short so Dwight Gooden helped coach the team. I singled to left to drive in two runs in the first inning. It was mega cool when after the third out was made Doc high-fived me as I ran off the field and said, "Nice hit!".

I started the game in left field and then moved over to first base. Since we were losing potential pinch runners due to hamstring issues with many runners I actually ran a lot on the base paths. I drew a walk late in the game and while I was on first base the next batter tripled into the alley forcing me to run first to home. That was a very long 270 feet, kids. But it felt good to make it without asking for oxygen.  We dropped yet another 1-run game. We finished at 1-6 but we had three 1-run losses.  We could just not put it together on any consistent basis.

After the game it was time to stop in the conference room to take a look at the photos that had been taken during the week. We will be receiving our own baseball cards in the summer at CitiField. Having done that it was off to the hotel to shower and prepare for the awards banquet.

The story of that and the final day of camp lies ahead in my next posting.

Days 3 and 4 of 2013

17 January 2013

Quite the day, I must say.

Today we had our first day where we had nominations for the brown rope and gold rope. The respective ropes are awarded to the top performer from the previous day(gold) and most dubious performer (brown).  Along with each the winners both receive a small plaque which can be displayed on the wall at home, or not, if the award is for something stupid.

We ended the meeting and headed over to the main ballpark. The stadium, formerly known as Tradition Field then known as Digital Domain Park and now not known as ANYTHING because the name was removed about 2 weeks ago. Ahh, the perils of corporate sponsorship deals on stadiums.

Today's first game for the Jackson 11 was against The Titans, coached by Tim Teufel. I was actually tabbed as the starting pitcher for game 1.  I don't much like pitching, nor am I very good at it, but we have limited viable pitchers. I breezed through the first inning, retiring the side on 7 pitches. The second inning went well too. By now my teammates are wondering why I didnt pitch yesterday. We scored a couple of runs in a long half inning and when I went back out to the mound I apparently had run out of talent. The width of home plate is 17".   By the time I was six hitters into the inning it felt like it was 17cm wide. We were down by 3 runs when I was removed to the third base position.

I was going to get ice on my arm from one of the trainers but when I told the trainer I had never iced in my life he told me to get out of the training room, so I did. 

We didn't win that game as we lost 11-6. In the afternoon we played Wine and Dine, coached by Bobby Wine. I was sent to play right field, even though I specifically told my coaches that I was an awful outfielder. Our first 9 batters all reached base and they changed pitchers to a guy who was best pitcher in camp in 2012. I was the first batter he faced. I knew this prior to getting into the batters box. I was ready. With the count at 0-2 I hit a ball down the third base line past the third baseman. I'm pretty sure that it was foul but the umpire called it fair and I reached base. I faced this guy three more times and went 3 for 4 with 4 runs batted in.

During the game Dwight Gooden arrived in our dugout. Dwight. Freakin'. Gooden.  The guy I was mistaken for when I played softball in Tampa in the mid-80s? Partly due to the fact that Dwight was raised in Tampa and that I was an above-average softball player at the time. We also shared a fashion trait in that we both sported the popular jeri-curl on our heads at the time. I hadn't seen him in person in years. He will be with us at camp until Sunday. Maybe I will get to hit off of him on Sunday. Who knows?

I got to the plate each time and hit the ball hard. The one out I made was as I hit a frozen rope to the third baseman. I hit that ball "on the screws", as they say. I had a great hitting game and my teammates were very cool about their accolades. I was  pleased with my effort. It was fantastic. Best baseball game, for me, in many years. We won the game 12-9 and are now 1-2.

Following the afternoon game we had a bull session with all of the pros. We could ask questions of any of them. One funny moment was when someone asked Joe Pignatano to tell a story, any story, about Casey Stengel. At that point all of the pro players got up and walked out of the meeting, as a joke, of course. But a very funny sight.

So I lit it up in game 2 today. Hopefully I can continue the streak tomorrow in game 1. I'm gonna probably get tabbed to pitch again, so I need to find that 17" plate again. Right?

I can't tell you how much I enjoyed today. It was an amazing feeling to be on the field, in full uniform, great weather and atmosphere. Priceless moments to be sure. I was 10 years old again today.  That is until I had to drive to get dinner. I wasn't driving at age 10/ Funny how life gets in the way like that sometimes. 

If I wasn't so tired I would be too wired to sleep.

 

18 January 2013

A number of years ago, I'm not sure of how many, I heard Vin Scully say on a baseball broadcast, "Every 24 hours the world turns over on the guy who was sitting on top of it yesterday". I'm sure that this quote is attributable to someone, but I know not whom. Today was a good day to remember this phrase though.

My day started well. I was nominated for the golden rope for my 3 for 4 yesterday. I found out that after yesterday's games I was leading my team in hits (6) and batting .550. It felt so good to have my name called, I stood up and had a bunch of people applaud for me.

Game 1 started well as we scored early but gave the lead away slowly and surely. I had a single in my first at bat but that would be my last hit of the day. We struggled to prevent it, but it proved to be futile. I was moved to left field. Only once did a ball get over my head for a triple. I did make one catch out there. We lost and went to 1-3 on the season.

The playoffs were set to begin this afternoon but the Jackson 11 would be outside of the playoff schedule. We played the tenth place team in the afternoon. We were the 9th seed. We played on field #2, which is the furthest field from the field which is closest to the stadium. It has artificial turf in the infield. There are very few major league teams who have artificial turf on their home fields, but I imagine that it's helpful for the minor league players who play on that surface in their travels. I made a brilliant play at second base in the second inning, diving to my left, and throwing the runner out. But later I made a play with the game tied which didn't pay off and I felt badly about it. I couldn't shake it for a while, especially when we started to come back in the last inning. We ended up losing 11-9. My walk back to the clubhouse, from the field located the FURTHEST from the clubhouse was quite long.

Tonight, after the games we had the Kangaroo Court where many campers were picked upon for making mistakes on the field, saying stupid things on the field or anything else like that. It was an hysterical time led by "judges" Doug Flynn and Bobby Wine, each wearing those old-timey wigs from ye old England. I managed to escape getting fined myself. I did have to pay a fine as one of my teammates, a kindly chap named Tom Mapes stated that he tried to take his team photo with a team other than his own. When he was asked why, he said it was because we "sucked".  Okay, we're not very good, but that's kinda extreme. But I've gotta give him credit, because Tom is chasing 70 years old and is moving out there as fast as he can. All fines collected will go to the Gary Carter Foundation this year. 

And that takes me back to the quote which started today's post.

We have two more games tomorrow even though there's a possibility of rain. I can't really feel like the guy who has has the world roll over on him today. I certainly felt like I was on top of it yesterday.  But even if I'm not back on top of it tomorrow, the fact that I can play this great game at this age and this location far exceeds winning or losing.

I once asked someone if they could imagine a world where everyone had a chance to have the feeling I had after yesterday's games. Think about that for your own life.  If it doesn't bring a smile to your face and put a warm feeling in your heart, then maybe you need to find something that will.

Days 1 and 2 of 2013

Day one has come and gone.  In a word it was.............well, it can't be described in one word.

I landed shortly after noon into West Palm Beach and then, after picking up the rental car, made the drive up I-95 to Port St. Lucie. After a stop into the hotel it was off to the complex. The room wasn't ready yet so I figured I'd go over for the workout. Upon arrival I realized that even though I had my baseball pants in my bag in the trunk, I had no shirt to wear with it, unless I wanted to wear my dress shirt. I decided against it and went back to the hotel to get my softball jersey.

I got back to the complex a few minutes later and walked into the clubhouse. I was directed to the correct row of lockers and there it was.... my locker. Over the top of it was a nameplate with my last name on it. In the locker were two jerseys. One grey road version and one cream-colored home version. Also 2 pairs of pants, a hoodie, a t-shirt and a pair of socks. I was speechless. I met a clubhouse manager who asked me what hat size I wore. I told him 7 5/8. My cranium is freakishly large. Just slightly smaller than that of Jack from the Jack-in-the Box commercials or Mr. Met himself.

I put on my softball jersey, grabbed my gloves and headed out to the fields. My first stop found me just kinda out of sorts, so I moved over to the adjoining field. The energy was very positive over there. Mostly because of the loud voice I heard. It belonged to John Stearns, former catcher and one of the staff here at camp. The first coach to mention my cool Rockets jersey was Kevin Baez. Some others thought it was pretty sweet too. I introduced myself and went down near first base to take some throws."Hey, is he a camper or on the staff?", Stearns yells at no one in particular.  Then he starts yelling at me."Hey, Rocketman! What do you play?" "First base", I replied. "Great! Get two, Rocketman!" So he hits me some grounders and I make the play on most of them. Keep in mind I've not thrown at all. But it didn't give me a chance to be nervous any more. I had the chance to get some swings in the cage as well. I hit pretty well, so my confidence is high right now.

After a little more fielding other campers grounders we came together in a group for instructions about what happens to us next. We had the opening banquet at 7 tonight and tomorrow morning we meet at 8:45 a.m.before we have player evaluations. The coaches will draft players for the 10 teams during the lunch break. It matters not what team I end up on. It's just a thrill to be here.

The banquet was a lot of fun. They introduced all of the coaches and after dinner the first-year campers got to introduce themselves. I stood up to tell everyone how I'd gotten here. When the group heard that I'd taken money that I received from my major league pension from the Minnesota Twins there was a large amount of applause.  

Tomorrow morning I will be on the bus to the complex around 7 to partake in breakfast and work my way into the day.

My locker is 3 down from Tim Teufel. As I sit in front of it to my 5 o'clock is Ron Swoboda and at my 7 o'clock is Mookie Wilson. I got to sit in on a photo taken with Ed Kranepool, Al Jackson, Ron Swoboda, Duffy Dyer, Ed Charles and Joe Pignatano.

How am I gonna fall asleep after a day like that?

My inner 51-year old will be asleep before the 11:00 news is over.

My inner 10-year old will be awake 24 hours a day for the next five straight days. 

Luckily, he doesn't drive.

Day 2. Phenomenal.

Got up and caught the 6:45 a.m. bus to the minor league complex. Had a little breakfast in the cafeteria and then put on my uniform for the very first time. It felt so great to be full uniform. We split up for evaluations at that time. But before that we had calisthenics. Some guys got through it without much issue, but a few guys were slowed by the rush of activity. I was not one of them.

My group started in the outfield section with Mookie Wilson and Rodney McCray. My outfield skills weren't horrible. They are nonexistent, actually. I made a few catches look easy, but that was luck. I pitched about 10 pitches at the pitching station. I was asked about that too, but I stated that my abilities were sub-standard from the mound as well. My guess is that I will get to pitch in a "mop-up" role.

I did well at the infield station. I even did well when I hit. After we hit it was time for lunch. During lunch I got a chance to ask John Stearns as to whether the Chief Nokk-a-Homa story is true or not. Turns out, IT'S TRUE! He actually ran down the Braves' former mascot during pregame as the Chief was running from the pitcher's mound toward his teepee located behind the left field wall. We had a good laugh after that. Manager Terry Collins stopped by and held an informal q&a in front of about 30 of us. It was so cool to hear about this year's team from the manager himself.

Shortly after that the teams were announced. My team is coached by Al Jackson and Kevin Morgan. The team is named The Jackson 11. The draft must've been quite something to see. Al told me that I was the topic of much discussion during the draft. I ended up at third base and batting 4th in our lineup. The first batter grounded out to me and I only made one really bad error. I struck out in the 1st, grounded out to the catcher in the 4th and then popped out to short in the 7th. We lost 5-1, but it was a total blast.

I hope to "get out of my head" tomorrow and let the coaches who drafted me get some of their confidence in my ability justified. My glove work is doing well.

Tomorrow we play two games. Let's hope that I am not in the same group of guys who form a huge line into the trainer's room during the day. So far, so good.

If you've ever seen "Animal House", I feel like Flounder when, while at the parade at the end of the film, says "Boy, is this GREAT,"

Because, really, THIS........IS GREAT,