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JV, the guy who told me about this, pointed across the diamond at an empty dugout (everyone was on the field) telling me that the other team was hurting for players. Maybe there's a chance I could play out the season with the Orioles? As I wandered over to their dugout, I wondered, 'Do you really want to put your body through this again?' What I really want is to enjoy the Fantasy Camp experience with as little pain as possible. And I am pretty sure this will help.
Through the dugout fence, I asked to talk with the manager. A tall, 50ish guy eventually stepped up, and I asked him if he could use another player. He looked me over, then asked, "How old are you?" I sheepishly answered, "63" thinking maybe I might be too old. Surprised, he smiled and said something like, 'good for you', and proceeded to tell me how to apply online. I immediately registered for the league and the following Sunday, I drove to Rohnert Park to play in my first game.
Then there were the ABs (at-bats). My first was in the 3rd inning, because to that point, only one of our previous 8 guys had reached base. The pitcher on their team, a guy who I knew from managing little league, was dealing mostly fastballs. Although I had not witnessed anyone diving out of the way of a pitch, I was a little nervous stepping into the box. I decided to take a strike (not swing until I watched a strike go by), and the first pitch went whizzing by, right down the middle. And that is not a euphemism - it really did make a 'whizzing' sound as it went by. Holy S%*t!! It was faster than any hardball I had EVER seen thrown at me. The next pitch was a fastball moving away from me that I waved at after it breezed by. I managed to foul off the next two pitches, one of them being a change-up. I tried to shorten my swing, but he got me swinging at another hard slider. I confirmed with the ump that he didn't throw one ball out of the strike zone. I got plenty of high-fives back in the dug out, maybe for fouling a couple off, but mainly because that's the kind of guys these are.
My 2nd AB came with a runner on first and two outs. Again, a little nervous, I watched a fastball go by right down the middle. The next pitch was low, thankfully, as I was beginning to wonder if all pitches look good to me. I fouled the next couple of pitches off, then connected and hit a ground ball to the first baseman who threw to get the lead runner at second, but the ball went over the second baseman's head into left field. All safe, but I'm still hitless. I immediately forgot everything I had ever learned about base running. I was nervous and took a tentative lead, since this guy had already picked off a base runner after he got our first hit. It took me a couple pitches to realize that the first baseman wasn't even holding me on. With two outs, and a 3-2 count, our base coach reminded me to run on the pitch. On cue, I sprinted hard toward second, but the batter fouled it off. Reset, next pitch, sprint, then another foul ball. Then again, and another foul ball. Then again, and ball four. Ouch, I knew I was going to be sore tomorrow!
The next guy up was also working the count. I'm standing at second, the bags are loaded, and the home plate ump announces a 3-2 count. The pitcher steps off and turns toward the umpire at second and says, "That ain't right." The second base ump confirms a 2-2 count. A short discussion ensues. The 2-2 pitch comes and our guy on first base takes off running to second. The throw comes in late and he is standing on second, but I am standing 20 feet toward 3rd wondering what the hell he was doing on my base. He obviously thought it was 3-2. So I break toward 3rd, then the guy on 3rd breaks toward the plate. The throw goes home, a pickle ensues, and he is thrown out midway to home. The field clears as loud discussions take place. Back out to right field for me.
My 3rd AB I decide I am NOT taking a strike, and hit the first pitch on the barrel, right at the second baseman, and our guy at first is doubled off.Two days later, and my legs are still sore. So far, this is the big take-away for me: there is WAY more intense running than I have done in the 8 years since I quit softball. I was older than everyone out there, and not everyone was sprinting for the ball or while on base (most were), but I am sure my teammates were happy to see that I was dumb enough to sprint. And they congratulated me for not pulling any muscles the first day out. I told them I had already pulled a groin muscle my second night of softball about a month ago.
I had a great time playing real baseball for the first time in 50 years. I only hope that I will play the next few games without much pain and without embarrassing myself too badly.
Note: The following are differences I observed in rules between REBL and MLB:The quad muscles on my left thigh had acted up last during the week while playing tennis, which I knew were remnants from game 1 last week. But I ran sprints a couple of days before the game and it felt great. Before the game on Sunday, I drove to Scandia in Rohnert Park for some BP (batting practice).
When I arrived at the park at 1:30, almost everyone was already there. I stepped into the dugout, and Ed, the acting manager, looks at me as he's filling out the line-up card, and says, "oh yea, Gary" as he adds me in the 11th spot.
I go out on the field and see that 2 of the outfielders are taking fly balls. So I join them, without running or throwing first. Oops!cI have always enjoyed taking fly balls when I was young. One of the few happy memories of my dad and baseball was of him hittting high fly balls to me and a couple of my brothers (using bonafide hard balls) at Crocker Amazon Park on a Sunday afternoon. So, I line up a few and easily put them away. Then, on an especially high one, I thought I had it lined up, but as it screamed to earth, I noticed it drifting slightly, and I never recovered. It bounced 5 feet behind me. How embarrassing! Then, on a rather lazy fly ball, I attempted a Willie Mays-style basket catch, and it hit the heel of my glove and dropped to the ground as I watched, horrified. A couple more catches, then another drop. This is NOT from bouncy-eyeball syndrome, which I do experience now when running for a ball, but from just plain dropping the ball. I sure hope I don't get any really high fly balls hit to me during the game.
Back in the dugout, DK (Dave Kennedy) asks me why I'm not wearing a jersey, (instead of the orange dry-fit t-shirt). Last week I wore a black t-shirt. I tell him that Franc had told me in an email that he will have a jersey for me. DK laughs out loud, "Ha, what makes YOU so special? We all had to buy ours. If you do get one, it will be two-sizes too big and have 'Hoppin' on the back". Everyone laughs, including me; that was pretty good. I played out the season wearing the t-shirt, although Franc eventually put a piece of surgical tape on my back making a '1'.
We're the home team, and DK and I will be platooning in right. He takes the field and I am in the dugout with someone I had just met: Dave who will catch the last two innings.
Three other guys that day were new to me:
Jim who played second base exclusively.
Anthony, a BIG left handed batter, throws right, started catching, then went to first.
A third Dave who made two very nice catches in center.
Two guys who I met last week were NOT there: Huey, (a VERY good ball player) and manager Frank H.
Frank M. is our starting pitcher and has 3 good innings. DK goes to right the first couple of innings, then we were begging each other to go out to right, based on who is in the most pain. He convinces me that his pain is worse, so I go out and play the next several innings with sore quads. Thankfully, there are NO plays in right all game. Still, the jog in and out is a long one from the third base dugout.
On the mound, the Phillies start a tall, hard-throwing lefty with a good move to first.
My 1st AB comes with a runner on first and third with one out. I decide to take a strike and he pipes one right down the middle. He's not throwing as hard as the guy last week, but it was still maybe 60-65 mph. The third pitch is right down the middle; I make contact and hit a bloop single into right-center for my first base hit. A run scores from third and I am 10 yrs old again; I am beaming! Frank M, first base coach, congratulates me. The dugout is yelling. DK, now on third, yells, "I love you man" across the field. I realize I pulled my quad going to first, but I am too excited to think about it. Next person up gets a hit to right and I go from first to third. Ouch! What am I doing!!? The next guy hits a medium fly out to left and I tag up. A good throw gets there a step before me but the catcher drops a short hopper as I watch it bounce away. I didn't even think of sliding. My quad is definitely pulled now. Thankfully, DK goes out to right.
I warm up Ed (acting manager) in the bullpen. He takes over pitching and finishes the game. He throws maybe 55-60 mph and is always around the plate.
2nd AB - I hit a dinker off the fists to right and get another RBI. More cheers from the dugout, but my right hand is THROBBING! It feels like someone pounded my hand with a hammer. Turns out, the injury is more at the base of the pointer finger where the bat handle is wedged in my hand. This is not 'bee-stinging' in the hands, this is a bad bruise! I forget all about my pulled quad.
3rd AB - Before the AB, I ask Doug (hitting before me) if he has ever heard of a shock absorbing ring that goes on the thumb. He holds his right hand open and says, "You mean like this?" HA! I'm not even sure where I heard of it, but I want one of those right now. I haven't tried to throw since it was injured, but it would hurt like hell I'm sure. I have 2 strikes again. He throws a change up and I'm fooled badly, but I manage to hang back and drop the bat head on the ball, pulling a nice single into the hole on left side. Another RBI! We are killing these guys like 18 to 5.
While we are on the field, Tom makes a diving catch at third on a ground ball heading up the line, steps on the bag, then throws the guy out at first to end the inning. The place goes nuts including me. I love this!
4th AB - Chris, Frank M, and Anthony all hit balls off the fences. A new pitcher comes in and is dealing pretty hard, but a bit wild. Doug, hitting in front of me, takes ball 4 in the shoulder. As he turns to throw the bat toward me in the on-deck circle, I see him grimacing. I now start to wonder how much a fast ball on the back will hurt. I make a mental note to try NOT to take it square in the back. I step in and take a ball wide. Then ball 2, 3, and 4. Whew! And I didn't hurt my hand again! I hobble to first. This game feels like it is going on all day but it's only the 6th inning.
I was going to start in right but I told Franc that my quad was still a bit tender so Anthony went out instead. I sat for two innings, then went into left for 3 or 4 innings. Before the game, Jim Henderson presents me with a brand new bat. He says, "It's yours!" he said, "I got a 3-pack." Wow, I couldn't believe it!!
Franc handed me a batting helmet. He didn't say it was mine, just that I could use it. I have been borrowing his and it will be nice not to go scrounging for a helmet just before I get up. I brought my camera and took a few pre-game pics but definitely got in my stretching and jogging/running/throwing.
The first inning in the dugout, Franc tells me that this pitcher, although not really hard throwing, nor with lots of junk, has owned the 'O's. He is always around the plate. And he was. He maybe gave up a couple walks in the middle of the game, but he quickly recovered. He goes 9 innings. Frank M, on the other hand, started but never really found his stuff like last week, and was out after the second inning.
Brett and Tim showed up around the 2nd inning and took over picture taking for me and did a great job. (See the pictures.) I was sitting with him and Tim while our team was on the field. One guy on the other team ripped a SCREAMING shot down the 3rd base line and Doug, trying to make a play on it, managed only to deflect it with his right thumb. Brett screamed 'Hold Shit! and from then on he was totally impressed with the quality of play that day from a bunch of old men. At the same time, although everyone was playing to win, there was very nice camaraderie on both sides.
Doug, who got hit on the thumb and sat the second inning, came up to me while I was sitting with Brett and Tim and asked if I would 'warm him up'. I figured he needed to see if he could still throw with his right thumb hurt. We walked down to the bullpen. Holy Shit! He is thinking he is going in to pitch. We throw lightly for a few, then I step behind the dish and he puts on a pitching clinic! Heater, slider, and WICKED curve. Turns out he is one of the Oriole's best and most prolific pitcher. He pitches until the bottom of the 8th.
Offensively, we were struggling to get on base. It was the 3rd or 4th inning before I got up.
1st AB - I still feel a little pain in my right hand. I bought, and was now wearing, a shock absorbing thumb pad. I'm not sure if it goes under my glove or over, so I go with over. Eventually, I don't even use a glove on my right hand. It works that well.
I step into the batter's box wielding a beautiful, brand new, unpainted, unvarnished, bat!! With a runner on first, I hit a hard roller between third and short. The third baseman got a glove on it and bobbled it. All safe. I have learned to take a couple strides toward first to get going, but I was definitely sprinting as I crossed the bag. No pulls and my hand is still good.
2nd AB - I ripped a shot into the gap in right center. I took a wide turn at first and found the right fielder was just getting to the ball so I turned it on and headed for second. I slid into second knowing it would be close. I'm pretty sure I beat the ball to the bag, although the ball bounced away in the dust, and I got my first (and only) extra base hit! See a very short video taken by Brett: https://youtu.be/Mr7h5W2qleI
3rd AB - I am looking for a ball about waist high and out over the plate. No more inside pitches if I can help it. With two strikes on me, I swung at a slightly high pitch and got under it and popped it up on the infield. I jogged to first thinking I should have swung at the first pitch.
4th AB - We were leading 3-2 going into the bottom of the 8th. Then they had a BIG inning and scored about 6 runs, three of them coming when our center fielder may have misplayed a line drive and he didn't get back in time. He jumped and it went off the top of his glove and to the fence. From the dugout I thought 'Thank God that wasn't me.' The next was a towering shot to center over the fence, about 330 ft., the first (and only) homer I saw here.
Mike, batting before me, got a hit and was safely aboard at first. Wasting no time, I hit the first pitch a little off the handle, but cleanly into right for a base hit. I felt that one, but no real pain. The thumb pad works!
Ed, the lead-off hitter, roped one into right center. It looked deep enough, and I got a good jump, so I rounded second and headed to third. Somewhere in that stretch I felt my quad muscles. Franc, the third base coach, was waving me down, so I slid and just beat the tag. Ed took second on the throw. Franc high-fived me, then said, "A ground ball to the right, or a deep fly ball and you are scoring."
I replied, "Uh, we need like 4 more runs and there is 1 out. We don't want to take any chances, right?" He agrees, but what I really meant was that I don't want to sprint again. So the pitcher is now in the windup, and I take a big lead down the line. I've seen other guys do this and it looks cool. Frank M is at bat and he hits a hard bounder down the 3rd base line. Oops! I am already almost half-way home, so I just keep going, hoping that the 3rd baseman will realize my run is meaningless. I sprint home as he throws to first base for the put-out. I don't think my quad is pulled, but I am sore as hell. The next batter pops out to short and the game is over.
Defensively, I made a routine fly ball catch in left, then chased down a couple balls, one to the wall. Myself and Brett noticed that I get amped up when retrieving a ball and often have trouble finding the handle on the ball, like I try to throw it before I have actually grabbed it. After I finally do pick it up, the runner is usually just jogging into base, so there really is no need to hurry. I think of the major leaguers casually going into the corner to retrieve a ball and hurl it back into the infield. They know it's a double right off the bat. No need to hurry man!
They gave me a hit on the 1st AB, so I am 3-4 on the day. But we lose 10-7 and nobody on the Orioles seems to care.
My left leg feels like it is going to fall off at the hip, but I am having a blast!!
This experience turned out to be far better than I had anticipated. I am sure this is in large part due to me to performing better than I expected (my expectations were very low). But also there is really an emotional attachment for me to the game of baseball, much like there is still an attachment to the songs I grew up listening to. There is really nothing so raw and fulfilling than hitting a hardball on the barrel of a wood bat. The crack is loud, but the feeling in the hands is almost non-existant. Hit the ball on the handle of the bat and it is a completely different experience as I learned in game 2.
Another big reason for the great time I had was my good fortune in falling in with this bunch of old guys. Not once in all five games did I hear anyone talking negatively about a teammate or an opponent, before, during, or after a game. In the weekly emails, and the lineup card, everyone had nicknames: Franc = 'Pope Francis'; Ed = 'The Deacon' and so on. They also wrote about '...the next bible study' which was confusing to me, as these guys expressed themselves in very colorful language (I fit right in). So before game 2, I asked Ed about their bible studies. He threw his head back with a loud chuckle, saying that they have bible study after every game at the local Hooters in Rohnert Park.
The last couple of innings of the season with these guys in the dugout was a total blast. Like 12 yr olds, they all started yelling encouragement to our batter in fast, loud, nonsensical chatter using words like 'barrel, bat, bubble'. I was laughing out loud. It was like no one wanted the season to end, thrilled to be enjoying the waning moments playing the game they love with the teammates they love. It was one, big, baseball love-fest in the Orioles nest.
I quit softball when I was 55 because it took my body three days to recover after trying to keep up with the demands of the kid inside me - that voice that yells loudly at me when I hit a ground ball in the infield, "Run!! Faster!! Faster!!" And nothing has changed with hardball. There are just too many other things I enjoy doing with my body that are less physically demanding. I look forward to fantasy camp and, hopefully, I will be in shape enough to enjoy my time there with my brothers. But this season playing real hardball was an experience I will never forget.