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.
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.
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
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