Well, I'm off to L.A. and Arizona for a couple days, where I will be visiting Edison International Field to watch our boys take on the Angels. Hopefully they can take 2 out of 3 in Anaheim again, though I'll settle on at least Friday night (when I'm there). I'll be fortunate enough to catch the D.J. Carrasco show as the opening act.
I'm not sure how brutal the fans in Anaheim are, though any group of fans that root for a team owned by Disney and get fired up by a monkey can't be too awfully tough. In case a wandering TV camera starts panning for Royals fans, I'll be in the 2nd row of the very last section in the right field upper deck. Watch for a sharp-lookin' guy in a solid blue long sleeve Royals shirt and the black KC hat with the blue bill crashing the party in Anaheim. Can't miss me.
Sneakily,
Joe Blow
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Joe Blow's Adult Baseball League (JBABL) Update #5
In which I go from batting 11th and getting yanked after 3 innings to batting 1st and becoming a game savior. Who knew?
First, we take care of the necessary clean-up:
Game #6: Them 5, Us 2
Team Record: 3-3
Offense
Blow, Joe: Did Not Play (trip to St. Louis)
My on-base skills were sorely missed.
Game #7: Us 12, Them 4
Team Record: 4-3
Offense
Blow, Joe: 1-2 (walk, ground out to 3rd)
Season-to-Date Totals (through game 7):
Avg: .214 (3 for 14)
OBP: .450
Slg: .214
OPS: .664
RBI: 5
I was a late scratch from my original starting spot in left field, being replaced by He Who Cannot Play Outfield. I was fortunate, though, that the powers that be threw a few crumbs my way and allowed me to drag my lowly self to right. I caught the only ball hit to me, walked to load the bases my first time up, then broke up a double play, which allowed a run to score.
Naturally, it was time to take me out.
Continuing the streak of insane batting lineups and inane player substitutions, I started, played well, and took a seat on the bench after three innings. Needless to say, I was furious. In the last four games, I had been the Extra Hitter twice, switched positions during the game (without warning or need), batted in the last spot 3 times, and was taken out after 3 innings. Wouldn't want the room mothers' (managers) kids to have to sit out a whole game or anything like some of the other guys. No sir.
So, I handled it in my normal way – I sat on the bench and wouldn't talk to anyone. Honestly, I started wondering what I was doing, why I was there, and why it never seems to fail that no matter what sports venture I set out on, it always ends in bitterness and an acute sense of foolishness. As in, why do I delude myself into thinking I'll actually find a team that knows what the fuck they're doing and doesn't play favorites with all of their buddies that I have no interest in being? I didn't really give a shit what happened on the field, and I sure didn't want to talk to the ladies that run the team at that moment; they would have done well to stay clear of the dugout. I didn't want to be there at all.
While I was on the bench, I packed up all my stuff, put my keys in my back pocket, and prepared to make a mad dash out of there as soon as the game was over. And, after the obligatory handshake, I did just that. The main manager was handing something over the dugout to some of the guys. She started to offer whatever it was to me and remind me that the next game was the following night until she caught the look of disgust on my face and heard my abbreviated reply.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"I'm fine," I said, as I continued walking towards the gate.
"You sure? What's wrong, is something wrong?"
"I'm fine."
"See you at the game tomorrow?"
I nodded and continued on. It was obvious to her that I was very pissed off. I'm not one to make a scene most of the time, so that small (non) event above is usually about the extent of it. I thought on the way home of what I would say the next day if she brought anything up. Basically, it would have been along the lines of, "I come here to play, not to watch every other game from the bench. I've been through that bullshit enough, and I'm really not interested in going through it again. If there's no spot for me, then why did you pick me up?"
I was still mad the next day when I got up. Since I didn't get home until after midnight the night before and had to work all day, my uniform was still covered in dust and dried blood. I remembered having to peel my sock from my knee when I got home after the game, as it had dried to the large abrasion that, apparently, will never heal. Especially if I keep sliding on it (note to self: stop doing that.) I chugged home from work, scarfed down a sandwich, threw on the uniform, and prepared for the best.
Game #8: Us 14, Them 13
Team Record: 5-3
Offense
Blow, Joe: 0-2 (walk, intentional walk, reached on error, fly out (into double play))
Season-to-Date Totals (through game 8):
Avg: .188 (3 for 16)
OBP: .458
Slg: .188
OPS: .646
RBI: 5
What a terrible field. I think my favorite parts would have to include:
Not to mention the precautions you had to take when sliding to make sure you didn't end up inside your own burial plot. The dirt was seriously about 4-5 inches thick, and not really dirt anyway. I found out the dangers early, after I walked to open the game and later tried to score from 3rd on a wild pitch. The footing? Not so good. Now, I told you a couple games ago that someone was going to get thrown out trying to score on a wild pitch. You knew it would be me. The poor footing, combined with the short distance to the backstop, was bad enough. The fact that the ball popped straight in the air and was basically waiting for the catcher when he got back there meant I was a dead duck. After a quick slide into home, I was left to once again stop the bleeding on my knee with my sock.
The sun, of course, was shining directly towards left field all game. The good news? I got to play the whole game. The bad news? Of course I was in left field! It was pretty rough, though all I did throughout the game was field grounders and line drive base-hits.
A suprising thing, though? After my elegant performance the night before, I moved from 11th in the batting order...to first. You wouldn't believe what a difference that makes. It's a completely different feeling. I imagined the other team to have an idea about me, and it wasn't, "Last batter! Easy out!" It was more like, "Dangerous batter. Lead-off guy. Be careful." And it worked. I never felt uncomfortable on any pitch, like I was ready for anything they could throw to me. I walked the first time up, hit a smash to 2nd (though it was right at the guy, which he misplayed), was intentionally walked the 3rd time (to load the bases, but still...give me something), and hit a fly ball right at the right fielder the 4th time.
The best part, though, was still to come.
It was an inordinately sloppy game on both sides. What was especially frustrating was that while the fielders on the left side were battling the sun on every pitch, the rest of the infielders played with their concentration obviously focused somewhere else. There were a sad number of easy, ground ball outs that went over, under, off of, and past the gloves of various infielders. The game should never have been that close.
My 2nd favorite part of the game happened when I was coaching third base one inning. Pregnant man, who is easily the fattest and slowest guy on the team, has an odd affection for bunting. He'll do it with two strikes, with a runner on 2nd with 2 outs – basically anytime when it's the stupidest. So, he tries to bunt once again in this game with two strikes, fouls it off, and gives away a ridiculous out. Two guys from the other team were sitting on the bench behind me, and this was their exchange:
I didn't want to start cracking up right on the field, so I just kind of turned around and smiled.
Flash forward to the bottom of the last inning. We were the visiting team, and took the field clinging to a 3-run lead. After a few extraordinarily ridiculous errors allowed runners to reach, everyone got to witness what will probably be my lone attempt at throwing someone out at the plate. It was a good one, too. I mean, I'm pretty sure the throw (from short left field) was going to reach the catcher on the fly. The base runner was still a couple steps away, and I stood there waiting to see it actually happen.
What I saw was the pitcher, who was standing on the infield grass on the side of the pitcher's mound, leap high into the air and tip the ball with his glove. So, not only was everybody safe, but I just stood there kind of dazed. How could he?
With 2 outs, runners on 2nd and 3rd, we clung desperately to a 1-run lead. The sun had thankfully set an inning ago, and I was remarkably calm. Which worked out well when the batter laced a line drive towards the left center-field gap. I'm not really sure why nerves didn't get to me, but it was a thing of beauty as I waltzed confidently and stood at the exact spot the ball was travelling, snagged it, and just like that the game was over. It was great – there was absolutely nothing in my mind while the ball was in the air. Almost zen-like.
I think it helped that I didn't realize it was the last inning.
Still, everyone was thrilled, high-fiving me left and right. "I was SURE that ball was in the gap when he hit it," was the concensus from everyone. "I was just thinking, don't hit it to me, don't hit it to me" was what another guy told me. And, just like that, I was the game's savior. Just by sheer force of being able to catch the ball. Isn't it funny how quickly things change?
For a day, anyway.
Confidently,
Joe Blow
First, we take care of the necessary clean-up:
Game #6: Them 5, Us 2
Team Record: 3-3
Offense
Blow, Joe: Did Not Play (trip to St. Louis)
My on-base skills were sorely missed.
Game #7: Us 12, Them 4
Team Record: 4-3
Offense
Blow, Joe: 1-2 (walk, ground out to 3rd)
Season-to-Date Totals (through game 7):
Avg: .214 (3 for 14)
OBP: .450
Slg: .214
OPS: .664
RBI: 5
I was a late scratch from my original starting spot in left field, being replaced by He Who Cannot Play Outfield. I was fortunate, though, that the powers that be threw a few crumbs my way and allowed me to drag my lowly self to right. I caught the only ball hit to me, walked to load the bases my first time up, then broke up a double play, which allowed a run to score.
Naturally, it was time to take me out.
Continuing the streak of insane batting lineups and inane player substitutions, I started, played well, and took a seat on the bench after three innings. Needless to say, I was furious. In the last four games, I had been the Extra Hitter twice, switched positions during the game (without warning or need), batted in the last spot 3 times, and was taken out after 3 innings. Wouldn't want the room mothers' (managers) kids to have to sit out a whole game or anything like some of the other guys. No sir.
So, I handled it in my normal way – I sat on the bench and wouldn't talk to anyone. Honestly, I started wondering what I was doing, why I was there, and why it never seems to fail that no matter what sports venture I set out on, it always ends in bitterness and an acute sense of foolishness. As in, why do I delude myself into thinking I'll actually find a team that knows what the fuck they're doing and doesn't play favorites with all of their buddies that I have no interest in being? I didn't really give a shit what happened on the field, and I sure didn't want to talk to the ladies that run the team at that moment; they would have done well to stay clear of the dugout. I didn't want to be there at all.
While I was on the bench, I packed up all my stuff, put my keys in my back pocket, and prepared to make a mad dash out of there as soon as the game was over. And, after the obligatory handshake, I did just that. The main manager was handing something over the dugout to some of the guys. She started to offer whatever it was to me and remind me that the next game was the following night until she caught the look of disgust on my face and heard my abbreviated reply.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"I'm fine," I said, as I continued walking towards the gate.
"You sure? What's wrong, is something wrong?"
"I'm fine."
"See you at the game tomorrow?"
I nodded and continued on. It was obvious to her that I was very pissed off. I'm not one to make a scene most of the time, so that small (non) event above is usually about the extent of it. I thought on the way home of what I would say the next day if she brought anything up. Basically, it would have been along the lines of, "I come here to play, not to watch every other game from the bench. I've been through that bullshit enough, and I'm really not interested in going through it again. If there's no spot for me, then why did you pick me up?"
I was still mad the next day when I got up. Since I didn't get home until after midnight the night before and had to work all day, my uniform was still covered in dust and dried blood. I remembered having to peel my sock from my knee when I got home after the game, as it had dried to the large abrasion that, apparently, will never heal. Especially if I keep sliding on it (note to self: stop doing that.) I chugged home from work, scarfed down a sandwich, threw on the uniform, and prepared for the best.
Game #8: Us 14, Them 13
Team Record: 5-3
Offense
Blow, Joe: 0-2 (walk, intentional walk, reached on error, fly out (into double play))
Season-to-Date Totals (through game 8):
Avg: .188 (3 for 16)
OBP: .458
Slg: .188
OPS: .646
RBI: 5
What a terrible field. I think my favorite parts would have to include:
1) the permanently sealed restrooms (complete with "CLOSED" stencil)
2) the moat and drainage pipe behind 1st base
3) the tire tracks in front of 2nd base
4) Left-field Foul Territory Hill
Not to mention the precautions you had to take when sliding to make sure you didn't end up inside your own burial plot. The dirt was seriously about 4-5 inches thick, and not really dirt anyway. I found out the dangers early, after I walked to open the game and later tried to score from 3rd on a wild pitch. The footing? Not so good. Now, I told you a couple games ago that someone was going to get thrown out trying to score on a wild pitch. You knew it would be me. The poor footing, combined with the short distance to the backstop, was bad enough. The fact that the ball popped straight in the air and was basically waiting for the catcher when he got back there meant I was a dead duck. After a quick slide into home, I was left to once again stop the bleeding on my knee with my sock.
The sun, of course, was shining directly towards left field all game. The good news? I got to play the whole game. The bad news? Of course I was in left field! It was pretty rough, though all I did throughout the game was field grounders and line drive base-hits.
A suprising thing, though? After my elegant performance the night before, I moved from 11th in the batting order...to first. You wouldn't believe what a difference that makes. It's a completely different feeling. I imagined the other team to have an idea about me, and it wasn't, "Last batter! Easy out!" It was more like, "Dangerous batter. Lead-off guy. Be careful." And it worked. I never felt uncomfortable on any pitch, like I was ready for anything they could throw to me. I walked the first time up, hit a smash to 2nd (though it was right at the guy, which he misplayed), was intentionally walked the 3rd time (to load the bases, but still...give me something), and hit a fly ball right at the right fielder the 4th time.
The best part, though, was still to come.
It was an inordinately sloppy game on both sides. What was especially frustrating was that while the fielders on the left side were battling the sun on every pitch, the rest of the infielders played with their concentration obviously focused somewhere else. There were a sad number of easy, ground ball outs that went over, under, off of, and past the gloves of various infielders. The game should never have been that close.
My 2nd favorite part of the game happened when I was coaching third base one inning. Pregnant man, who is easily the fattest and slowest guy on the team, has an odd affection for bunting. He'll do it with two strikes, with a runner on 2nd with 2 outs – basically anytime when it's the stupidest. So, he tries to bunt once again in this game with two strikes, fouls it off, and gives away a ridiculous out. Two guys from the other team were sitting on the bench behind me, and this was their exchange:
Guy 1: Who bunts with two strikes? Why'd he do that?
Guy 2: Because he's a short, fat fuck that has nothing to look forward to in life.
I didn't want to start cracking up right on the field, so I just kind of turned around and smiled.
Flash forward to the bottom of the last inning. We were the visiting team, and took the field clinging to a 3-run lead. After a few extraordinarily ridiculous errors allowed runners to reach, everyone got to witness what will probably be my lone attempt at throwing someone out at the plate. It was a good one, too. I mean, I'm pretty sure the throw (from short left field) was going to reach the catcher on the fly. The base runner was still a couple steps away, and I stood there waiting to see it actually happen.
What I saw was the pitcher, who was standing on the infield grass on the side of the pitcher's mound, leap high into the air and tip the ball with his glove. So, not only was everybody safe, but I just stood there kind of dazed. How could he?
With 2 outs, runners on 2nd and 3rd, we clung desperately to a 1-run lead. The sun had thankfully set an inning ago, and I was remarkably calm. Which worked out well when the batter laced a line drive towards the left center-field gap. I'm not really sure why nerves didn't get to me, but it was a thing of beauty as I waltzed confidently and stood at the exact spot the ball was travelling, snagged it, and just like that the game was over. It was great – there was absolutely nothing in my mind while the ball was in the air. Almost zen-like.
I think it helped that I didn't realize it was the last inning.
Still, everyone was thrilled, high-fiving me left and right. "I was SURE that ball was in the gap when he hit it," was the concensus from everyone. "I was just thinking, don't hit it to me, don't hit it to me" was what another guy told me. And, just like that, I was the game's savior. Just by sheer force of being able to catch the ball. Isn't it funny how quickly things change?
For a day, anyway.
Confidently,
Joe Blow
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
I fully intended to update once I reached my hotel on Thursday night. Yep, a lone man in a new town with some fine hand-crafted beer and nothing better to do – sounds like my idea of posting time. Instead, I spent my eagerly anticipated wandering-around-a-strange-city time (ok, so st. louis isn't strange, just crappy) and my sitting-around-a-free-hotel time…well, sitting on I-70. Seems a cement truck driver found the one-lane construction-reduced highway outside of Columbia to be a perfect place to lose his mixer and set his truck on fire. That was fun. At least the Royals won, so the sports talk radio wasn't too unbearable while we sat. And, once I finally arrived in town, I lucked into finding some Schlafly Coffee Stout at a Schnucks down the street from the hotel. I really didn't think there would be any left of the coffee stout (it's a seasonal) – plus, it wasn't too bad. I've never had a great Schlafly brew, but some of their stuff is pretty decent. And, really, you can probably consider yourself lucky I didn't try to post towards the end of my coffee stout experience. but I sure was tempted.
Anyway, how about those Royals? They've actually been playing pretty decently. I don't buy into any part of the "well, teams always play better for an interim manager when the old manager is fired/quits" (how often do they quit, anyway?) idea that seems to be the agreed-upon explanation on the local message boards. That, basically, is ridiculous. Not much more than that.
I do like a lot of the things Bob Schaefer has done lately, as far as the new lineup and some of the day-to-day pitching moves. It doesn't always work, but you've seen the team the Royals put together this year, right? Exactly. I think there's a lot to be said for the amazing coincidence that the Royals started hitting a lot better once there was someone actually putting the team together in a sensible order. And no more of this Dee Brown / Calvin Pickering / etc. nonsense, where the guys that are up from the minors to be given the opportunity to prove themselves end up playing in 2 out of every 7 games, with a few random pinch-hit at-bats sprinkled in at the end of lost games. A guy will never succeed like that, yet that's been Standard Royal Procedure for-goddamn-ever. Batting averages based on less than 50 at-bats are notoriously brutal – I'm going to point to my JBABL stats so far to lend credence to that.
Speaking of which, both of those concepts – lack of regular playing time, ridiculously small sample size of at-bats – are currently working together to make my adult baseball league experiment extremely frustrating at the moment. After last night's game, I'm just about fed up. Just like a lot of marginal Royals prospects have experience upon reaching the big leagues, knowing that each and every step you make is going to be micro-analyzed and result in the next 4 days off if it's not wildly successful makes it a little hard to even play, let alone succeed. And, sometimes, just the fact that you're not a prospect dooms you to never getting a real opportunity. It's amazing what's happened to Emil Brown, Matt Diaz, David DeJesus (last season), and even Raul Ibanez a few seasons ago when they were actually allowed to play almost every day without having to look over their shoulders constantly. When you're always doing that, it makes it hard to pay attention to what's in front of you. And, yes, I realize that Diaz and Brown have only stepped up in a very limited number of games so far, but I've definitely noticed a difference in both now that they've been allowed to play regularly. Hopefully they'll succeed – of course, that's pretty much the Official Royal Motto.
In my case, during the last 4 games, I've been the extra-hitter twice, shuffled around the outfield during game #3, and only allowed to play 3 innings of game #4. I've also occupied the last spot in the lineup in 3 of the 4 games. Basically, I know I'm never going to get regular playing time no matter what, which is even worse than trying to win a spot. Right now, it doesn't seem like I'm even going to be allowed to compete. I don't know – I'll post more on this tomorrow. I have another game tonight, so at the least, I'll gain a little more perspective on the situation. Or quit.
Reluctantly,
Joe Blow
Anyway, how about those Royals? They've actually been playing pretty decently. I don't buy into any part of the "well, teams always play better for an interim manager when the old manager is fired/quits" (how often do they quit, anyway?) idea that seems to be the agreed-upon explanation on the local message boards. That, basically, is ridiculous. Not much more than that.
I do like a lot of the things Bob Schaefer has done lately, as far as the new lineup and some of the day-to-day pitching moves. It doesn't always work, but you've seen the team the Royals put together this year, right? Exactly. I think there's a lot to be said for the amazing coincidence that the Royals started hitting a lot better once there was someone actually putting the team together in a sensible order. And no more of this Dee Brown / Calvin Pickering / etc. nonsense, where the guys that are up from the minors to be given the opportunity to prove themselves end up playing in 2 out of every 7 games, with a few random pinch-hit at-bats sprinkled in at the end of lost games. A guy will never succeed like that, yet that's been Standard Royal Procedure for-goddamn-ever. Batting averages based on less than 50 at-bats are notoriously brutal – I'm going to point to my JBABL stats so far to lend credence to that.
Speaking of which, both of those concepts – lack of regular playing time, ridiculously small sample size of at-bats – are currently working together to make my adult baseball league experiment extremely frustrating at the moment. After last night's game, I'm just about fed up. Just like a lot of marginal Royals prospects have experience upon reaching the big leagues, knowing that each and every step you make is going to be micro-analyzed and result in the next 4 days off if it's not wildly successful makes it a little hard to even play, let alone succeed. And, sometimes, just the fact that you're not a prospect dooms you to never getting a real opportunity. It's amazing what's happened to Emil Brown, Matt Diaz, David DeJesus (last season), and even Raul Ibanez a few seasons ago when they were actually allowed to play almost every day without having to look over their shoulders constantly. When you're always doing that, it makes it hard to pay attention to what's in front of you. And, yes, I realize that Diaz and Brown have only stepped up in a very limited number of games so far, but I've definitely noticed a difference in both now that they've been allowed to play regularly. Hopefully they'll succeed – of course, that's pretty much the Official Royal Motto.
In my case, during the last 4 games, I've been the extra-hitter twice, shuffled around the outfield during game #3, and only allowed to play 3 innings of game #4. I've also occupied the last spot in the lineup in 3 of the 4 games. Basically, I know I'm never going to get regular playing time no matter what, which is even worse than trying to win a spot. Right now, it doesn't seem like I'm even going to be allowed to compete. I don't know – I'll post more on this tomorrow. I have another game tonight, so at the least, I'll gain a little more perspective on the situation. Or quit.
Reluctantly,
Joe Blow
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Joe Blow's Adult Baseball League (JBABL) Update #4
This will be the last other-baseball-league update before we get back to the regular Royals noise around here - mostly because I'll be leaving for a short trip to st. louis and have to skip my own game tomorrow night. So, while I'm (hopefully) enjoying a nice Schlafly beer and (hopefully) watching the Apprentice season 3 finale in my hotel room tomorrow night...i'm hopefully wishing for rain! Sure wouldn't want my team to have to play without me..
And, since I won't have any of my own baseball to concern myself with until next week, maybe I'll take advantage of the hotel's free high-speed internet and actually say a word or two about the Royals..
Anyway, a double-header last weekend - of which we won both! Down to the nitty-gritty:
Game #4: Us 11, Them 5
Team Record: 2-2
Offense
Blow, Joe: 2-3 (2 singles, K, 2 RBI)
Season-to-Date Totals (through game 4):
Avg: .273 (3 for 11)
OBP: .467
Slg: .273
OPS: .739
RBI: 5
This game, I finally started getting back into the habit of actually remembering to try to hit the ball out in *front* of me while I was still at-bat, rather than on the long, slow walk to the dugout after triggering a hair too late and letting the pitch eat me up, as has been the case so far. I also made a conscientious effort to make sure I'm watching the ball all the way from the pitcher's hand, instead of picking it up after it's already been released. coincidentally, two two-out RBI base-hits! although, after hitting a solid single up the middle on the first at-bat, I hesitated coming around first, saw the centerfielder misplay the ball when it hit the lip on the infield grass, and made a lame duck attempt at trying to take 2nd. of course, you only realize you've really bit it about ¾ of the way there, and I was out by a good 3 steps. hey, at least the run scored!
I also promised myself this game that all sliding would be done head-first, since I got a nice strawberry on my knee last game trying to steal a base, and it hadn't healed yet. so, then I slid feet-first trying to take 2nd, and returned to the dugout to find a nice, uh, "full" band-aid on my knee. luckily I had plenty of time to nurture myself back to health...
...because I was the goddamn Extra Hitter again. it's not as bad right now because I know I'm the new kid on the team, but it burns me up when the same guys get an automatic spot no matter how they play. the worst part about being the EH is that, aside from watching kids screw up your position, this lady automatically bats you last. I was pretty steamed during the game, and I sat on the very end of the bench to make sure the managers wouldn't talk to me. I mean, I do that anyway, but I think it was a little more noticeable when I was the only person on it.
A pretty good game, though. What could top it? Why, Game 5, of course..
Game 5: Us 9, Them 7
Team Record: 3-2
Offense
Blow, Joe: 0-2 (BB, K, ground out, 1 run scored)
Season-to-Date Totals (through game 5):
Avg: .231 (3 for 13)
OBP: .444
Slg: .231
OPS: .675
RBI: 5
The good: I led off the top of the last inning and drew a walk when our team was down 7-4.
The bad: I'll be remembered for two things in this game -
Pretty rough. I actually got to start in left field, where I began the game by slightly misplaying an odd bounce on a line drive (nobody took an extra base, though), and pulling up short of a couple potential shoe-string-catch line drives that, obviously, everyone else on the team would have tried to catch and had the ball roll for a triple when they missed it - I thought holding guys to singles was good? I watched that play *way* too many times in softball last year, and I'm not about to make it.
in my defense on the misplay, I will say that, honestly, I could barely feel my fingers. and, no, it wasn't cold. it's just that, well, I started the day feeling a little rough after a night of slightly heavy drinking the previous evening, then ingested a lot of caffeine. in fact, I had some extra no-doz type caffeine pills in my bat-bag, and while I wasted away the innings on the bench during game 1 of the afternoon, I think I took a couple too many. and that's saying something for me, because I regularly drink large quantities of coffee all day long. anyway, by that point I was feeling a little shaky and a lot...odd.
I actually moved up to 7th in the order this game (based on my dynamite performance in game 1, coupled with the fact I wasn't the EH), and proceeded to strike out by taking a couple questionable strikes and missing a curve ball. badly.
then the "talk" started.
while we were batting in the top of the 3rd, I heard the manager lady say to the guy who couldn't play centerfield worth anything in game one, "yeah, you're going in to left next inning". I wasn't even going to say anything. I just decided maybe she meant "left side of the infield", or...fuck it, I knew what she meant. I was getting taken out after two innings. I was livid.
after we were retired in the top of the 3rd, sure enough, he trotted out to left. I stood there, grabbing the fence, waiting for someone to say something to me as i watched this unfold. they sat on the bleachers, snacking away. I looked at anyone, waiting for a response. finally, eyes clenched, an indignant scowl on my face, I pointed and said, "You put him in?" very eloquent, I must say.
"oh, yeah, you're going to right field. I meant to tell you. sorry about that!"
what the fuck? jesus christ.
anyway, I slowly staked my place in right field, and watched each inning as the sun gently crept down the sky until, by about the 6th inning, it was perched happily just over the tall trees that looked over the field from behind the right-handed batters. in other words, the sun was directly in front of the right fielder (me), and about ¾ of the way down the sky. combined with the glare off of the concession stand roof, which rests about 5 feet above the batter's head (and also directly in front of the right fielder), I seriously hoped that I could be nothing more than a place-holder the rest of the game.
cue forward to the bottom of the 6th: down by 1, our pitcher allowed the first 2 runners on - one, I must mention, because the guy that took my place in left field actually charged a fly ball that landed just in front of the warning track. I mean, seriously, the guy can't play outfield! goddamn.
anyway, naturally the next ball hit is a high fly ball to me, and I saw it all the way until it was maybe 10-15 above me. then, nothing. I couldn't see a thing. it was lost to the sunlight completely. I stuck my glove in the air, half-defensively, and felt it glance off the very tip. afterward, nobody really said anything to me. they just, kind of, didn't talk to me.
I was vindicated the next inning when the right fielder on the other team did the exact same thing. of course, to guys on my team, it was because he "sucked, really bad", but he had obviously put his arms in front of his face as the ball came down so that he wouldn't get smashed.
anyway, like I said earlier, I led off the top of our last inning by drawing a walk. the guy after me had apparently (to most of us anyway) drawn a walk as well, with the home-plate umpire even pointing him down to first base. except that his pointing was really him calling a late, silent strike call. I realized this when I was about halfway to 2nd base and had to make a mad dash back to first, seeing as how I was a live runner and all. I probably could have made it to 2nd, but everybody was a little confused, so they didn't think to throw it back to 1st soon enough. at least i was still safe, that's all i have to say.
eventually, I made it to 3rd, and we had the bases loaded, 0 outs, down by 3. that's when the pitcher threw a wild pitch to the backstop. now, I must mention, this is not the backstop at royals stadium. in fact, it's not very deep at all, and I honestly can't believe that no one ever gets thrown out trying to take home plate on these plays. no matter what, though, I wasn't interested in trying to score on a wild pitch with the tying run on first base and no one out. so, I stayed put on 3rd when he threw one. naturally, my teammates (on the 1st base bench) were jumping all over themselves. I just stuck my hands out and shrugged my shoulders, like, "what?!"
I ended up scoring on the play where their right fielder lost the ball in the sun, we eventually scored 5 runs in the inning and held on for a 9-7 win, and everybody was really excited. I even had a couple of guys come up to me and say, "I liked your decision not to try to score with the bases loaded." and that, my friends, is what I'll take for vindication these days..
winningly,
Joe Blow
And, since I won't have any of my own baseball to concern myself with until next week, maybe I'll take advantage of the hotel's free high-speed internet and actually say a word or two about the Royals..
Anyway, a double-header last weekend - of which we won both! Down to the nitty-gritty:
Game #4: Us 11, Them 5
Team Record: 2-2
Offense
Blow, Joe: 2-3 (2 singles, K, 2 RBI)
Season-to-Date Totals (through game 4):
Avg: .273 (3 for 11)
OBP: .467
Slg: .273
OPS: .739
RBI: 5
This game, I finally started getting back into the habit of actually remembering to try to hit the ball out in *front* of me while I was still at-bat, rather than on the long, slow walk to the dugout after triggering a hair too late and letting the pitch eat me up, as has been the case so far. I also made a conscientious effort to make sure I'm watching the ball all the way from the pitcher's hand, instead of picking it up after it's already been released. coincidentally, two two-out RBI base-hits! although, after hitting a solid single up the middle on the first at-bat, I hesitated coming around first, saw the centerfielder misplay the ball when it hit the lip on the infield grass, and made a lame duck attempt at trying to take 2nd. of course, you only realize you've really bit it about ¾ of the way there, and I was out by a good 3 steps. hey, at least the run scored!
I also promised myself this game that all sliding would be done head-first, since I got a nice strawberry on my knee last game trying to steal a base, and it hadn't healed yet. so, then I slid feet-first trying to take 2nd, and returned to the dugout to find a nice, uh, "full" band-aid on my knee. luckily I had plenty of time to nurture myself back to health...
...because I was the goddamn Extra Hitter again. it's not as bad right now because I know I'm the new kid on the team, but it burns me up when the same guys get an automatic spot no matter how they play. the worst part about being the EH is that, aside from watching kids screw up your position, this lady automatically bats you last. I was pretty steamed during the game, and I sat on the very end of the bench to make sure the managers wouldn't talk to me. I mean, I do that anyway, but I think it was a little more noticeable when I was the only person on it.
A pretty good game, though. What could top it? Why, Game 5, of course..
Game 5: Us 9, Them 7
Team Record: 3-2
Offense
Blow, Joe: 0-2 (BB, K, ground out, 1 run scored)
Season-to-Date Totals (through game 5):
Avg: .231 (3 for 13)
OBP: .444
Slg: .231
OPS: .675
RBI: 5
The good: I led off the top of the last inning and drew a walk when our team was down 7-4.
The bad: I'll be remembered for two things in this game -
1. Dropping a fly ball in the bottom of the 6th after losing it in the sun (allowing 2 runs to score)
2. Not attempting to score on a wild pitch in the top of the 7th (last) inning with the bases loaded, nobody out, down by 3
Pretty rough. I actually got to start in left field, where I began the game by slightly misplaying an odd bounce on a line drive (nobody took an extra base, though), and pulling up short of a couple potential shoe-string-catch line drives that, obviously, everyone else on the team would have tried to catch and had the ball roll for a triple when they missed it - I thought holding guys to singles was good? I watched that play *way* too many times in softball last year, and I'm not about to make it.
in my defense on the misplay, I will say that, honestly, I could barely feel my fingers. and, no, it wasn't cold. it's just that, well, I started the day feeling a little rough after a night of slightly heavy drinking the previous evening, then ingested a lot of caffeine. in fact, I had some extra no-doz type caffeine pills in my bat-bag, and while I wasted away the innings on the bench during game 1 of the afternoon, I think I took a couple too many. and that's saying something for me, because I regularly drink large quantities of coffee all day long. anyway, by that point I was feeling a little shaky and a lot...odd.
I actually moved up to 7th in the order this game (based on my dynamite performance in game 1, coupled with the fact I wasn't the EH), and proceeded to strike out by taking a couple questionable strikes and missing a curve ball. badly.
then the "talk" started.
while we were batting in the top of the 3rd, I heard the manager lady say to the guy who couldn't play centerfield worth anything in game one, "yeah, you're going in to left next inning". I wasn't even going to say anything. I just decided maybe she meant "left side of the infield", or...fuck it, I knew what she meant. I was getting taken out after two innings. I was livid.
after we were retired in the top of the 3rd, sure enough, he trotted out to left. I stood there, grabbing the fence, waiting for someone to say something to me as i watched this unfold. they sat on the bleachers, snacking away. I looked at anyone, waiting for a response. finally, eyes clenched, an indignant scowl on my face, I pointed and said, "You put him in?" very eloquent, I must say.
"oh, yeah, you're going to right field. I meant to tell you. sorry about that!"
what the fuck? jesus christ.
anyway, I slowly staked my place in right field, and watched each inning as the sun gently crept down the sky until, by about the 6th inning, it was perched happily just over the tall trees that looked over the field from behind the right-handed batters. in other words, the sun was directly in front of the right fielder (me), and about ¾ of the way down the sky. combined with the glare off of the concession stand roof, which rests about 5 feet above the batter's head (and also directly in front of the right fielder), I seriously hoped that I could be nothing more than a place-holder the rest of the game.
cue forward to the bottom of the 6th: down by 1, our pitcher allowed the first 2 runners on - one, I must mention, because the guy that took my place in left field actually charged a fly ball that landed just in front of the warning track. I mean, seriously, the guy can't play outfield! goddamn.
anyway, naturally the next ball hit is a high fly ball to me, and I saw it all the way until it was maybe 10-15 above me. then, nothing. I couldn't see a thing. it was lost to the sunlight completely. I stuck my glove in the air, half-defensively, and felt it glance off the very tip. afterward, nobody really said anything to me. they just, kind of, didn't talk to me.
I was vindicated the next inning when the right fielder on the other team did the exact same thing. of course, to guys on my team, it was because he "sucked, really bad", but he had obviously put his arms in front of his face as the ball came down so that he wouldn't get smashed.
anyway, like I said earlier, I led off the top of our last inning by drawing a walk. the guy after me had apparently (to most of us anyway) drawn a walk as well, with the home-plate umpire even pointing him down to first base. except that his pointing was really him calling a late, silent strike call. I realized this when I was about halfway to 2nd base and had to make a mad dash back to first, seeing as how I was a live runner and all. I probably could have made it to 2nd, but everybody was a little confused, so they didn't think to throw it back to 1st soon enough. at least i was still safe, that's all i have to say.
eventually, I made it to 3rd, and we had the bases loaded, 0 outs, down by 3. that's when the pitcher threw a wild pitch to the backstop. now, I must mention, this is not the backstop at royals stadium. in fact, it's not very deep at all, and I honestly can't believe that no one ever gets thrown out trying to take home plate on these plays. no matter what, though, I wasn't interested in trying to score on a wild pitch with the tying run on first base and no one out. so, I stayed put on 3rd when he threw one. naturally, my teammates (on the 1st base bench) were jumping all over themselves. I just stuck my hands out and shrugged my shoulders, like, "what?!"
I ended up scoring on the play where their right fielder lost the ball in the sun, we eventually scored 5 runs in the inning and held on for a 9-7 win, and everybody was really excited. I even had a couple of guys come up to me and say, "I liked your decision not to try to score with the bases loaded." and that, my friends, is what I'll take for vindication these days..
winningly,
Joe Blow
Saturday, May 14, 2005
Joe Blow's Adult Baseball League Update #3
Three scheduled games since the last update; 1.4 actually played! We will begin with the ok one, followed by the good one that didn't count..
Game 3:
Final Score: Us 14, Them 6
Team Record: 1-2
Joe Blow's Offensive Stats:
Game 3: 0-1 (K, 2 BB)
Season Totals:
Avg.: .000
OBP: .400
Slg.: .000
OPS: .400
RBI: 1
You know, I just carry the bat to the plate to give off the illusion I might hit the ball. No hitting actually occurred in the playing of this game. I managed to stake my claim this time to the demeaning role of "extra hitter", as we had 10 guys show up for the game. never mind the fact that some of these guys show up to about 1 of every 3 games, or that a few of them can't possibly play the field at any position. yes, the new guy gets to sit the bench until it's his time to hit. add to that the insult of not just being the extra hitter, but batting 10th out of 10, and you can extrapolate my mindset once this game started.
I don't know why I even try to keep statistics. it's really just for my own amusement. one of the manager ladies for this team keeps a scorebook, but she constantly has to ask about actual rules of the game, so I can pretty much guarantee you she has no idea how to accurately score the game. not to mention the guys on the team; during game #3, one guy on the bench actually said this:
let me just take a second here: hahahahahaha.
ok. give me a break. dude, nobody on this team can hit, and you guys RARELY reach base. not every time: more like, barely *any* time. he also said, "well, I've only been up 5 times anyway." um, I batted 7 times in the first two games alone, and he hits ahead of me in the order. do outs not count as at-bats? that would probably explain it. but, then came this gem from another guy:
ha. .533 batting average – um, I don't remember *any* of your hits, let alone the idea that you've been on base more than, like, once in the games so far. and, you know, errors count for something, i think. these are the eggheads I have to deal with. trust me: despite the fact that I had been on base as much as anyone in the lineup at that point, the idea that I reached on walks means i never reached base at all, and (for the other guys) the other teams' errors/fielder's choices/dropped 3rd strike at bats were "hits". because the guys on my team swung the bat. I'm surprised those guys even knew the term "on-base percentage". of course, I wouldn't actually expect them to know how to calculate it.
anyway, you know, there I was on the bench, getting steamed about being the "extra hitter" at the bottom of the lineup. sure, put the pregnant looking guy at shortstop, put the guy that always wants a "courtesy" runner to run the bases for him in left field. god forbid you put a solid defender in the game at key positions. luckily, my clumsy slow replacement got bored of standing in left field after two innings, so I got to play the remaining 5 innings standing around, doing a whole lot of nothing. apparently, guys in this league haven't caught up to the 55 mph fastball yet, so nobody ever pulls the ball. I fielded a grounder that got by the pregnant man at shortstop, and a line drive on two hops. that was it.
when I fielded that line drive, the batter took a big turn around first just as I grabbed the ball. I was going to softly toss it in to the cut-off (pregnant) man – just an easy throw, seeing as how it's never a good idea to show the other team what kind of arm you have until absolutely necessary, so they'll be off-guard as far as your prospective chances of throwing them out – but, when the guy took an aggressive turn around 1st, I double-clutched the ball and got ready to throw it to 2nd base instead. keep in mind, I'm in pretty shallow left-field at this point; the throw to 2nd was about 20 feet further than the throw to pregnant man. the runner halted his advance.
and then I returned to my spot. and I mostly stood there, getting pissed off that Dumpy – despite the fact that I've now watched him completely drop a fly ball after it bounced off of his glove, botch a number of ground balls (or just plain not attempt to get to them, including one earlier that night), and repeatedly try to pretend like he's a switch-hitter when he bats, even though he can't hit from either side – yell at me in front of the team for not throwing the ball to his stupid ass. that shit doesn't help me, because the people running the team don't know that much about baseball, so if Stubby yells, he must be right. goddammit.
anyway, we actually won that game. no thanks to the rest of the team while I was on the bases: if we didn't score on passed balls and wild pitches, we'd NEVER score. I was on base 2 out of 3 times, and nobody *ever* moved me up a base through either hitting the ball or drawing a walk. it's all strikeouts and wild pitches.
walks are like death here. walks, seemingly, rank lower on the scale than embarrassingly bad strikeouts and lazy pop-ups to the catcher. but, you know, the catcher has that complicated glove and all, so he has to make a good play to catch it..
of course, god forbid our catchers actually block pitches or make any kind of defensive play at all.
I used to play catcher back in the day – WAY back, I'm talking from t-ball to coaches pitch to bantams – and, even though I haven't played it for years, I still know that it's not that hard to keep pitches in front of you at this level. it just takes: 1) concentration 2) effort 3) disregard for personal comfort. I mean, you can't block everything, but it's not that hard in the local rec circuit.
you wouldn't know it from this league. aside from the fact that I can pretty much steal bases at will (when I'm not hitting behind the biggest, slowest guy on the team – hey, this 10th spot could work out well after all..), none of the catchers really make that much attempt to stop every other pitch from going to the screen. it's ridiculous, and kind of insulting. especially when these pitcher and catcher guys try to talk to each other as if they're "calling" the game and "setting people up" with pitches and all that. hell, maybe they think they are. I think they would be better served by actually, you know, throwing strikes. cause that shit's a rarity around these parts.
we were supposed to play a double-header last Sunday. we made it through 3 innings of the 1st game before the rain came down and stopped play. here are the stats through 3 innings:
Game 4:
Us 14, Them 2 (3 innings)
Team Record: 1-2 (not an official game)
Joe Blow's Offensive Stats:
Game 4: 1-2 (fielder's choice, single, 2 RBI, 2 stolen bases, 1 run scored)
Season Totals:
Avg.: .125
OBP: .417
Slg.: .125
OPS: .542
RBI: 3
SB: 2
I came up in the 2nd inning with a runner on 3rd and 1 out, and grounded into a fielder's choice that scored a run. my question is: if a hitter hits a fly ball that scores a run, or bunts a runner to another base, they're credited with a sacrifice and not an official at-bat. what about a ground ball that scores a run? you don't think *that* could be on purpose, too? I knew if I put the ball in play, it would score a run, and after fighting off a few pitches, that's what I did. yet, it counts against my average and as an official at-bat. kind of a dumb rule in that regard.
anyway, the brain trust at the head of our organization put pregnant man in left field this time, while I lucked into staking out right field. it was extremely windy, which meant no one (our team or the other one) could catch anything hit to left. pretty sad, really, to watch from right. i guarantee i won't be with this team next year, so i won't miss the whole "watch this team screw up really, really bad on just about every play" thing.
anyway, after blooping a single in the 3rd, I stole some bases, and scored the final run in the bottom of the 3rd on a passed ball. we were, apparently, up 14-2 by that point, but as we ran to take the field in the top of the 4th, the rain started. and, within a minute, poured. I looked to the umpires. no signal. great. one batter up, two pitches later, they called it. I huddled in an odd spot just in front of our bench, as the rain was blowing in from the back of the dugout as well as pouring over from the roof. there was very limited space that provided any kind of protection.
eventually they cancelled the game altogether, and it was ruled "unofficial", since it didn't go the required amount of innings (whatever that is). but, honestly, I'd like to keep the stats. it's not like I'm angling for a contract or anything anyway..so, it counts. now, to fix the fact that all my hits are bloops..
dutifully,
Joe Blow
Game 3:
Final Score: Us 14, Them 6
Team Record: 1-2
Joe Blow's Offensive Stats:
Game 3: 0-1 (K, 2 BB)
Season Totals:
Avg.: .000
OBP: .400
Slg.: .000
OPS: .400
RBI: 1
You know, I just carry the bat to the plate to give off the illusion I might hit the ball. No hitting actually occurred in the playing of this game. I managed to stake my claim this time to the demeaning role of "extra hitter", as we had 10 guys show up for the game. never mind the fact that some of these guys show up to about 1 of every 3 games, or that a few of them can't possibly play the field at any position. yes, the new guy gets to sit the bench until it's his time to hit. add to that the insult of not just being the extra hitter, but batting 10th out of 10, and you can extrapolate my mindset once this game started.
I don't know why I even try to keep statistics. it's really just for my own amusement. one of the manager ladies for this team keeps a scorebook, but she constantly has to ask about actual rules of the game, so I can pretty much guarantee you she has no idea how to accurately score the game. not to mention the guys on the team; during game #3, one guy on the bench actually said this:
"Yeah, I have an on-base percentage of 1.000. I've either got a hit, or walked, or got hit by a pitch every time up so far."
let me just take a second here: hahahahahaha.
ok. give me a break. dude, nobody on this team can hit, and you guys RARELY reach base. not every time: more like, barely *any* time. he also said, "well, I've only been up 5 times anyway." um, I batted 7 times in the first two games alone, and he hits ahead of me in the order. do outs not count as at-bats? that would probably explain it. but, then came this gem from another guy:
"Yeah, I have a .533 batting average, and a .667 on-base percentage. of course, I don't count errors or anything in my calculations."
ha. .533 batting average – um, I don't remember *any* of your hits, let alone the idea that you've been on base more than, like, once in the games so far. and, you know, errors count for something, i think. these are the eggheads I have to deal with. trust me: despite the fact that I had been on base as much as anyone in the lineup at that point, the idea that I reached on walks means i never reached base at all, and (for the other guys) the other teams' errors/fielder's choices/dropped 3rd strike at bats were "hits". because the guys on my team swung the bat. I'm surprised those guys even knew the term "on-base percentage". of course, I wouldn't actually expect them to know how to calculate it.
anyway, you know, there I was on the bench, getting steamed about being the "extra hitter" at the bottom of the lineup. sure, put the pregnant looking guy at shortstop, put the guy that always wants a "courtesy" runner to run the bases for him in left field. god forbid you put a solid defender in the game at key positions. luckily, my clumsy slow replacement got bored of standing in left field after two innings, so I got to play the remaining 5 innings standing around, doing a whole lot of nothing. apparently, guys in this league haven't caught up to the 55 mph fastball yet, so nobody ever pulls the ball. I fielded a grounder that got by the pregnant man at shortstop, and a line drive on two hops. that was it.
when I fielded that line drive, the batter took a big turn around first just as I grabbed the ball. I was going to softly toss it in to the cut-off (pregnant) man – just an easy throw, seeing as how it's never a good idea to show the other team what kind of arm you have until absolutely necessary, so they'll be off-guard as far as your prospective chances of throwing them out – but, when the guy took an aggressive turn around 1st, I double-clutched the ball and got ready to throw it to 2nd base instead. keep in mind, I'm in pretty shallow left-field at this point; the throw to 2nd was about 20 feet further than the throw to pregnant man. the runner halted his advance.
pregnant man: GET THE BALL IN HERE, NOW!!
me: Why, he isn't going!?
and then I returned to my spot. and I mostly stood there, getting pissed off that Dumpy – despite the fact that I've now watched him completely drop a fly ball after it bounced off of his glove, botch a number of ground balls (or just plain not attempt to get to them, including one earlier that night), and repeatedly try to pretend like he's a switch-hitter when he bats, even though he can't hit from either side – yell at me in front of the team for not throwing the ball to his stupid ass. that shit doesn't help me, because the people running the team don't know that much about baseball, so if Stubby yells, he must be right. goddammit.
anyway, we actually won that game. no thanks to the rest of the team while I was on the bases: if we didn't score on passed balls and wild pitches, we'd NEVER score. I was on base 2 out of 3 times, and nobody *ever* moved me up a base through either hitting the ball or drawing a walk. it's all strikeouts and wild pitches.
walks are like death here. walks, seemingly, rank lower on the scale than embarrassingly bad strikeouts and lazy pop-ups to the catcher. but, you know, the catcher has that complicated glove and all, so he has to make a good play to catch it..
of course, god forbid our catchers actually block pitches or make any kind of defensive play at all.
I used to play catcher back in the day – WAY back, I'm talking from t-ball to coaches pitch to bantams – and, even though I haven't played it for years, I still know that it's not that hard to keep pitches in front of you at this level. it just takes: 1) concentration 2) effort 3) disregard for personal comfort. I mean, you can't block everything, but it's not that hard in the local rec circuit.
you wouldn't know it from this league. aside from the fact that I can pretty much steal bases at will (when I'm not hitting behind the biggest, slowest guy on the team – hey, this 10th spot could work out well after all..), none of the catchers really make that much attempt to stop every other pitch from going to the screen. it's ridiculous, and kind of insulting. especially when these pitcher and catcher guys try to talk to each other as if they're "calling" the game and "setting people up" with pitches and all that. hell, maybe they think they are. I think they would be better served by actually, you know, throwing strikes. cause that shit's a rarity around these parts.
we were supposed to play a double-header last Sunday. we made it through 3 innings of the 1st game before the rain came down and stopped play. here are the stats through 3 innings:
Game 4:
Us 14, Them 2 (3 innings)
Team Record: 1-2 (not an official game)
Joe Blow's Offensive Stats:
Game 4: 1-2 (fielder's choice, single, 2 RBI, 2 stolen bases, 1 run scored)
Season Totals:
Avg.: .125
OBP: .417
Slg.: .125
OPS: .542
RBI: 3
SB: 2
I came up in the 2nd inning with a runner on 3rd and 1 out, and grounded into a fielder's choice that scored a run. my question is: if a hitter hits a fly ball that scores a run, or bunts a runner to another base, they're credited with a sacrifice and not an official at-bat. what about a ground ball that scores a run? you don't think *that* could be on purpose, too? I knew if I put the ball in play, it would score a run, and after fighting off a few pitches, that's what I did. yet, it counts against my average and as an official at-bat. kind of a dumb rule in that regard.
anyway, the brain trust at the head of our organization put pregnant man in left field this time, while I lucked into staking out right field. it was extremely windy, which meant no one (our team or the other one) could catch anything hit to left. pretty sad, really, to watch from right. i guarantee i won't be with this team next year, so i won't miss the whole "watch this team screw up really, really bad on just about every play" thing.
anyway, after blooping a single in the 3rd, I stole some bases, and scored the final run in the bottom of the 3rd on a passed ball. we were, apparently, up 14-2 by that point, but as we ran to take the field in the top of the 4th, the rain started. and, within a minute, poured. I looked to the umpires. no signal. great. one batter up, two pitches later, they called it. I huddled in an odd spot just in front of our bench, as the rain was blowing in from the back of the dugout as well as pouring over from the roof. there was very limited space that provided any kind of protection.
eventually they cancelled the game altogether, and it was ruled "unofficial", since it didn't go the required amount of innings (whatever that is). but, honestly, I'd like to keep the stats. it's not like I'm angling for a contract or anything anyway..so, it counts. now, to fix the fact that all my hits are bloops..
dutifully,
Joe Blow
Thursday, May 12, 2005
It's certainly been an extremely busy week for all things outside of Royal Blues -- which means it's been pretty vacant here. Has it been over a week since I posted? That's not really the plan, but, you know, "free entertainment" and all that. Thankfully, in the meantime, someone was nice enough to list my humble little site on Baseball Blogs, which has like doubled my page views while I haven't been posting (whatever that's supposed to say..). yep, one day I even made it to double-digits! I've truly reached the pinnacle.
Anyway, due to my prolonged "royals road trip"-style absence, you can use this post as a clearinghouse for archival royal links to past catastrophes. Reminisce uncomfortably while slowly watching the season die through the Royal Record countdown.
Also, an inside source has provided me with information that something big may have happened after the May 10 loss to Toronto. I am checking into this, and will report back with any late-breaking developments as they occur. (note: if the report comes in after lunch tomorrow, it'll probably be a little more, uh, "festive". just sayin..)
So, via the links below, feel free to enjoy the past 9 games all over again. From walking in the tying and go-ahead runs in the bottom of the 8th, to blowing an 8-1 lead, to *gasp* one lone victory, to losing our Head Cheerleader…it's all here! Is it any wonder I don't try to write about all these games?
Chicago 5, Kansas City 4
Royal Record: 7-19
Chicago 4, Kansas City 2
Royal Record: 7-20
Chicago 2, Kansas City 1
Royal Record: 7-21
Baltimore 3, Kansas City 1
Royal Record: 7-22
Baltimore 5, Kansas City 3
Royal Record: 7-23
Kansas City 10, Baltimore 8
Royal Record: 8-23
Toronto 6, Kansas City 1
Royal Record: 8-24
Toronto 3, Kansas City 1
Royal Record: 8-25
Toronto 12, Kansas City 9
Royal Record: 8-26
Hopefully back tomorrow!
Exhaustively,
Joe Blow
Anyway, due to my prolonged "royals road trip"-style absence, you can use this post as a clearinghouse for archival royal links to past catastrophes. Reminisce uncomfortably while slowly watching the season die through the Royal Record countdown.
Also, an inside source has provided me with information that something big may have happened after the May 10 loss to Toronto. I am checking into this, and will report back with any late-breaking developments as they occur. (note: if the report comes in after lunch tomorrow, it'll probably be a little more, uh, "festive". just sayin..)
So, via the links below, feel free to enjoy the past 9 games all over again. From walking in the tying and go-ahead runs in the bottom of the 8th, to blowing an 8-1 lead, to *gasp* one lone victory, to losing our Head Cheerleader…it's all here! Is it any wonder I don't try to write about all these games?
Chicago 5, Kansas City 4
Royal Record: 7-19
Chicago 4, Kansas City 2
Royal Record: 7-20
Chicago 2, Kansas City 1
Royal Record: 7-21
Baltimore 3, Kansas City 1
Royal Record: 7-22
Baltimore 5, Kansas City 3
Royal Record: 7-23
Kansas City 10, Baltimore 8
Royal Record: 8-23
Toronto 6, Kansas City 1
Royal Record: 8-24
Toronto 3, Kansas City 1
Royal Record: 8-25
Toronto 12, Kansas City 9
Royal Record: 8-26
Hopefully back tomorrow!
Exhaustively,
Joe Blow
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Cleveland 6, Kansas City 0
Royal Record: 5-18
Kansas City 9, Cleveland 1
Royal Record: 6-18
Kansas City 6, Cleveland 5
Royal Record: 7-18
Nothing like a two-game winning streak to quiet the chattering masses of Royals fans – seemed to be a noticeable drop-off in posts on the message boards and weblogs in general. count me among those – not really much to say about the weekend, I don't think. always nice to see them win, even if I only caught parts of two games. I listened on Saturday as I drove to my game, catching Harvey's grand slam and Marrero's follow-up shot. great moments, of course, though it's moments like these that hover in people's minds a little too long when it comes to arguing Royals-related points. not that I'm one of the types that's absolutely convinced harvey can or can't succeed, or that marrero was a giant waste of money – they're just nice moments in a long production of a season. that's about all I have to say right now. I don't have any kind of point to prove about the relative worth of either of them. I'd just like to see them succeed, that's all.
I listened Sunday as lima had a no-hitter through 5 innings, then left to take a bike ride through the local neighborhoods with the 'lil lady. yep, right after the 5th. I figured, sure, I'd be all over the place if I had missed lima throwing a no-hitter – and he is pretty much one of the only two pitchers (anderson being the other) who would possibly be allowed to pitch a full nine innings given how limiting the royals are with the other guys – but, you know, what are the chances of that? all I ended up doing is saving myself from watching the five-run 5th. I came back to see burgos close it out, and while I'm never going to complain about a 1-2-3 inning, it's obvious there will be nights he'll walk guys just like all the other royals relievers we've grown fond of. not much more than that.
* * * * * *
Official JBABL stats: Game 2
Them 15, Us 5 (stopped after 6 innings due to score)
Team Record: 0-2
Offense
Blow, Joe: 0-3 (K, pop out, ground out)
Season:
Avg.: .000
OBP: .286
Slg.: .000
OPS: .286
RBI: 1
I hate odd stat lines like that at the beginning of the season. My hitting was pretty bad Saturday. I got rang up on a borderline outside pitch on my first at-bat (I'm learning that umpires in this league are very generous when pitches come somewhere around the plate). the second time I swung at a low, outside pitch and *almost* dropped it into right field, and the third time I just barely hit a roller about halfway between third and the pitcher's mound.
I'm afraid next game I'm gonna have to play like a real asshole. yep, I'm just going up there hacking. no one knows the difference anyway, and at least if they see me swinging they'll think I'm up there trying to hit a home run every time just like everyone else. I mean, I'll still be selective, but at least for the next game, there's no more taking close pitches early in the at-bat and trying to work the count. I'm up there swinging away from pitch 1. I mean, when I'm not swinging and missing, I can ground out with the best of them – exactly like the rest of the team!
I'm really, really disappointed with how this team is turning out. apparently the flashes of "decent team" I saw in the preseason games were a great illusion. Once this team gets into the regular season, I don't know, they just panic. they can't make pitches or plays worth anything. no wonder they've been so horrible the last couple years before now.
At least I've been absolutely solid in the field so far: no errors, a couple nice catches on hard-hit smashes on Saturday, and not a single base-runner has attempted to take an extra base on a ball hit to me in any game this year. part of that is because I'm in left field, but I play every ball exactly how it's supposed to be played and come up ready to throw.
Of course, in the midst of our thrashings, there always seems to be something that happens in each game you can file under "little things that really piss you off". this game it was a statement from one of the guys in the dugout, who felt it necessary to mention to everyone that, "we really suck at defense! our defense is terrible, we can't make any plays!" this right after the inning where I speared a couple line drives given up by our pitchers. it's like, hey guy, feel free to speak for yourself, but the outfield guys haven't missed a play yet, including two separate times where a runner should have been out at third and at home, but the infielder never bothered to catch the ball. and the runners were out by 3-4 steps each time, so it wasn't close. on a side note, the outfield in the last game consisted of me and two guys from completely different teams, who were filling in because we were short. we'll revert back to comical misplays and shockingly bad decisions next game when the regulars return.
well, another thing that got to me last game involved the guy I wrote about that had absolutely no idea how to play centerfield in game 1. he apparently felt the need to start positioning the outfielders from his perch at 2nd base a couple of innings into the game. I HATE that. I'm pretty sure that I know as much as anyone on the team on where guys should be playing, especially myself. he started motioning for all the outfielders to move in at one point, and when he got to me I just looked at him as he waved his glove towards his face. he did it again. I looked at him and took a trivial half step sideways. he gave up. it's like, dude, I saw you play centerfield, you have no clue how to play outfield at all. it reminded me of last year, when I almost got into what would have been a very regrettable scrap with this really trashy guy on my softball team that felt like he was god's gift to outfield management. which he attempted to enforce on every single play. non-stop. in the last game, I finally shouted to him, "why don't you worry about yourself?" naturally, Scummy wanted to fight me as soon as we got back to the dugout. luckily I didn't, or else I'd probably be covered in some kind of incurable skin lesions right now.
hopefully no one will come to blows this season. but, if there's a bright side, at least some of the guys on this team seem halfway clean..
Peacefully,
Joe Blow
Royal Record: 5-18
Kansas City 9, Cleveland 1
Royal Record: 6-18
Kansas City 6, Cleveland 5
Royal Record: 7-18
Nothing like a two-game winning streak to quiet the chattering masses of Royals fans – seemed to be a noticeable drop-off in posts on the message boards and weblogs in general. count me among those – not really much to say about the weekend, I don't think. always nice to see them win, even if I only caught parts of two games. I listened on Saturday as I drove to my game, catching Harvey's grand slam and Marrero's follow-up shot. great moments, of course, though it's moments like these that hover in people's minds a little too long when it comes to arguing Royals-related points. not that I'm one of the types that's absolutely convinced harvey can or can't succeed, or that marrero was a giant waste of money – they're just nice moments in a long production of a season. that's about all I have to say right now. I don't have any kind of point to prove about the relative worth of either of them. I'd just like to see them succeed, that's all.
I listened Sunday as lima had a no-hitter through 5 innings, then left to take a bike ride through the local neighborhoods with the 'lil lady. yep, right after the 5th. I figured, sure, I'd be all over the place if I had missed lima throwing a no-hitter – and he is pretty much one of the only two pitchers (anderson being the other) who would possibly be allowed to pitch a full nine innings given how limiting the royals are with the other guys – but, you know, what are the chances of that? all I ended up doing is saving myself from watching the five-run 5th. I came back to see burgos close it out, and while I'm never going to complain about a 1-2-3 inning, it's obvious there will be nights he'll walk guys just like all the other royals relievers we've grown fond of. not much more than that.
* * * * * *
Official JBABL stats: Game 2
Them 15, Us 5 (stopped after 6 innings due to score)
Team Record: 0-2
Offense
Blow, Joe: 0-3 (K, pop out, ground out)
Season:
Avg.: .000
OBP: .286
Slg.: .000
OPS: .286
RBI: 1
I hate odd stat lines like that at the beginning of the season. My hitting was pretty bad Saturday. I got rang up on a borderline outside pitch on my first at-bat (I'm learning that umpires in this league are very generous when pitches come somewhere around the plate). the second time I swung at a low, outside pitch and *almost* dropped it into right field, and the third time I just barely hit a roller about halfway between third and the pitcher's mound.
I'm afraid next game I'm gonna have to play like a real asshole. yep, I'm just going up there hacking. no one knows the difference anyway, and at least if they see me swinging they'll think I'm up there trying to hit a home run every time just like everyone else. I mean, I'll still be selective, but at least for the next game, there's no more taking close pitches early in the at-bat and trying to work the count. I'm up there swinging away from pitch 1. I mean, when I'm not swinging and missing, I can ground out with the best of them – exactly like the rest of the team!
I'm really, really disappointed with how this team is turning out. apparently the flashes of "decent team" I saw in the preseason games were a great illusion. Once this team gets into the regular season, I don't know, they just panic. they can't make pitches or plays worth anything. no wonder they've been so horrible the last couple years before now.
At least I've been absolutely solid in the field so far: no errors, a couple nice catches on hard-hit smashes on Saturday, and not a single base-runner has attempted to take an extra base on a ball hit to me in any game this year. part of that is because I'm in left field, but I play every ball exactly how it's supposed to be played and come up ready to throw.
Of course, in the midst of our thrashings, there always seems to be something that happens in each game you can file under "little things that really piss you off". this game it was a statement from one of the guys in the dugout, who felt it necessary to mention to everyone that, "we really suck at defense! our defense is terrible, we can't make any plays!" this right after the inning where I speared a couple line drives given up by our pitchers. it's like, hey guy, feel free to speak for yourself, but the outfield guys haven't missed a play yet, including two separate times where a runner should have been out at third and at home, but the infielder never bothered to catch the ball. and the runners were out by 3-4 steps each time, so it wasn't close. on a side note, the outfield in the last game consisted of me and two guys from completely different teams, who were filling in because we were short. we'll revert back to comical misplays and shockingly bad decisions next game when the regulars return.
well, another thing that got to me last game involved the guy I wrote about that had absolutely no idea how to play centerfield in game 1. he apparently felt the need to start positioning the outfielders from his perch at 2nd base a couple of innings into the game. I HATE that. I'm pretty sure that I know as much as anyone on the team on where guys should be playing, especially myself. he started motioning for all the outfielders to move in at one point, and when he got to me I just looked at him as he waved his glove towards his face. he did it again. I looked at him and took a trivial half step sideways. he gave up. it's like, dude, I saw you play centerfield, you have no clue how to play outfield at all. it reminded me of last year, when I almost got into what would have been a very regrettable scrap with this really trashy guy on my softball team that felt like he was god's gift to outfield management. which he attempted to enforce on every single play. non-stop. in the last game, I finally shouted to him, "why don't you worry about yourself?" naturally, Scummy wanted to fight me as soon as we got back to the dugout. luckily I didn't, or else I'd probably be covered in some kind of incurable skin lesions right now.
hopefully no one will come to blows this season. but, if there's a bright side, at least some of the guys on this team seem halfway clean..
Peacefully,
Joe Blow
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