If you want evidence of how hard this game is, look no further than the fact that I managed to pitch two scoreless innings for the Raptors last Sunday. Think about it. The Southampton Mustangs, unbeaten so far this season and powering through the Single-A league, were faced with my medium-paced unwavering strikes, and they still couldn’t get a run. Sure, they could hit the thing. But putting a round bat on a round ball and depositing it in a space where no fielder was standing? That’s much harder.

I doff my cap to Theo, who comfortably hauled in two fly balls to centre field, and to Zach, who was equally sure-handed with a pop-up to second base. I also thank myself for improving on the fielding performance I turned in when I pitched against Guildford. This time two hits came my way. I caught the first one, a pop-up in foul ground. Then when a batter mis-hit a dribbler just a couple of feet in front of the plate I picked it up cleanly, cycled through my potential plays in my head until I found the right one, and threw to first for the out.

My experience of pitching was once again a complete blast. In the absence of our usual starters, stand-in manager Arnie very sensibly went for an open-house approach — anyone who wanted to have a go was invited. Arnie himself pitched the first three innings, before giving way to Theo, and then me. Theo throws a harder and heavier ball than me, and it moves more, but I guess I got luckier with the fielding!

I felt a little more comfortable on the mound this time around, and heeded my own advice to try to mix it up a little bit. Any Southampton batters reading this might laugh (please do it quietly) but there was a curve in there somewhere. It felt good to have a pristine match ball in my hand, with proper seams so you could feel what you were doing. I need to throw all my pitches with a bit more conviction, but you can’t beat the feeling of getting up there on the mound and getting results. If I ever hit a home run I will let you know how it compares, but so far pitching a scoreless inning is a winner!

I recorded a less welcome first for the season by striking out in my first at-bat. It had to happen sometime, especially since I started this article by saying how difficult it is to get a hit. At least it was a swinging strikeout on a full count. Southampton’s pitcher is not overpowering but the ball has some zip on it, and a little bit of slide, and he is pretty accurate. I think he gave up 6 walks in the end, but he struck out 6 of the first 8 batters and you can’t really argue with that. I got a single later, and a couple of walks to nudge up my averages, but we need to string together some more good at-bats to get runs against teams like this.

This was an odd game for the Raptors, as we stood little real chance of winning. But it was all played in a pretty relaxed atmosphere and I think we had fun. Jose and Zach, two of our talents for the future, selflessly took turns as the umpire and did a fine job. They also ribbed each other mercilessly about it. Everyone had a good crack at the game, with some good hits and good catches. Don’t get me wrong — we all want to win! I look forward to the blog when that happens.

By Rob Jones, still Going Through the Change

You don’t need me to tell you that baseball is a game of inches. But at least the next time I think about it I will have a few frustrating examples to offer, all from half a game at home to the Southampton Mustangs. I was back at third base as a substitute, after missing the top of the game due to being asleep after a night shift. And the hot corner was to give me a very hot day.

The first chance came quickly, I think the first batter of the second inning I played. I fielded the ball cleanly, took a step, then sent a throw sailing about ten feet wide of the first baseman. I felt the smooth part of the ball slip from the fingers as I threw it, but that doesn’t help me get it back.

The second throw, in the next inning, was in the first baseman’s reach, but it was still between him and the onrushing runner, and he couldn’t hang on. Having played a bit of first myself, I realised I had rather hung him out to dry.

The third one went … I remember not where, but I know the guy wasn’t given out! And the fourth throw, with runners on base, was there and safe and sound – but to my surprise the runner was also given safe and sound. Four chances, one clear error, and no outs.

Somewhere in the midst of all this I made what was nearly a spectacular play. Leaping at a line drive which even I thought was about to go over my head, I got the meat of the glove to a ball. But just not enough, or I started landing a fraction too soon, I don’t know. The ball flicked back up in the air, out of reach of a flailing second attempt, then fell to ground. Almost a web gem, but in the end just another runner aboard.

So where does the inch come into it? Well, I’m not a big guy and I don’t think it’s giving too much away to any future opposition to say I do not have a “Big Arm”. But the throw from third base is a “Big Throw”, and there’s a simple conclusion here that I just didn’t make it. That inch might have got those outs. An inch might have secured that catch, too.

All of this might spell the swift end of my third base career, though I hope not! I have played two stints there and I really enjoyed it. Chiefly because those stints have been busy, and that’s exactly what you want when you step on the field – “hit the ball to ME!”

I was really pleased that against the Mustangs I picked up every ball cleanly and surely, despite all the rust- and sleep-related excuses I am keeping in reserve. But the throws need to be that bit sharper and stronger to make sure I get the guy, and I am keen to work on that. Unless someone conjures me an inch…

While I am on the topic of being “sharper”, I should note that for the second time in two games I found my uniform spattered with blood. In the HSL it was, I think, just a rotating seam that scuffed skin off my hand. All rather feeble, and when it happened this time around I started to think about seeing a ‘weak skin specialist’ or something. So I was slightly reassured to find once I cleaned up my hand after the game that it was a bona fide cut. And I duly found a shard of broken glass near my fielding position at third. A note to all, I think, to check a public field carefully when you set up.

A quick word about my batting is that just half an inch might have done, to make my first at-bat a hit. On a 2-2 count fastball I swung but just missed making really good contact. It became a fairly routine ground ball to the third baseman. I was out by a step, but I was out.

I think most Herts players can take solace in the quality of the Southampton defence. As you may have read elsewhere, Mustangs pitcher Dave Wrigley recorded the club’s first no-hitter. But that was not because he was so overpowering or bamboozling. Large part — and I’m sure he would agree – was down to his defence. Take for example, the scorching Raptors hit to lead off the ninth. It was an excellent pick-up by the fielder, then made even better by the first baseman digging it out. We must doff the cap to a really good performance by the visitors.

And what of the Raptors’ all-round experience? Whilst it may not have started well, when I got there it was a tight game. The home team threw up zeroes, and made good plays. New guys seemed pretty confident and comfortable. It’s hard to look back on lots of glaring errors, barring my own decision to airmail a routine throw to first. So there’s always stuff to learn, and with a rookie team a lot of it is still drilling on basics. But there’s a lot to look forward to as well.

So, weeks after it started, I actually went back to pre-season training. Twice. And it is already clear to me that the theme of my pre-season blogging — and quite possibly the whole year’s efforts — will be my aches and pains. My old age. Don’t forget it’s all about me, me, me.

Here’s a quick run-down of what we have been doing. There were about ten carefully constructed drills, with the assistance of little plastic cones laid out on the floor. Most of these exercises involved short range throwing and catching. They were designed to improve hand speed and reflexes, I think, but many also seemed to involve knackering my knees and thigh muscles.

There were plenty of options to get the blood flowing (inside the veins, that is — I don’t think there were any mishaps allowing it to escape). Two weeks ago, there was also the Hitting Zone, Pitchers’ Corner, and another curtained off area which I never got to peek inside. Best not ask too many questions about that. Then last week there was intensive infield work. Herts legend Geoff Hare put the crowds of willing victims through their paces, with choppers, bunts and grounders.

All in all, these sessions have been good fun, and certainly a good workout. On each occasion, I was left with a series of persistent aches. For a couple of days after the session, I did only stretching work before getting really adventurous and maybe running. I felt it’s what I most needed, and what I could most easily achieve.

Despite all this middle-aged moaning, there is a saving grace — the aches are in all the right places. They are in my thighs, my calves, my back, my shoulders. And I am counting that as progress. When I first played baseball it would be absolute murder on my elbow. For a couple of nights after a training session, I would even take painkillers to help me sleep because of my throbbing elbow. Whilst even I realised that this pain might be a “bad thing”, I mostly put it down to the fact that I had not played such an impact sport for years. The experience never turned me off baseball, which says something. But I am hoping that my newly-placed aches and pains also say something. I hope they say that I am doing something right, and that I am no longer screwing up my elbow.

Two final notes from the indoor sessions. One is a word of thanks to the coaches. It is always gratifying as a player to find that coaches have put some thought and planning into the training, so that you are not standing idle. That cools you down, which is no use, and also frustrates you if you feel you are wasting a precious opportunity to play ball. These sessions have flown by.

The second note is an illustration of how far I have to go, no matter where my aches and pains are appearing. In one drill I partnered the 2010 GB Cadet call-up, Liam Green. Each of us starting with a ball, we were to throw them to each other simultaneously, then make the transfer and throw it back. It’s a good exercise for keeping your eye on the ball. But also a telling example of a gifted arm. Even twenty feet apart, I was catching Liam’s ball what felt like seconds before my throw arrived at his glove! I was making the catch, then becoming a spectator while he waited to catch mine. I could have gone for a hot dog while I waited. Humbling.

For those of you who did not realise the full glory of the San Francisco Giants' history, my estimable colleague Bruce has written an excellent piece to remind us. I will add that even newer fans of the club felt the void in the trophy cabinet. I came on board in 2001, witnessing Bonds break the single season home run record, and I was still fresh when the team lost to the Angels in 7 games in 2002. But you quickly adopt your team's pain – and there have been plenty of low moments since then.

But I don't want to talk about the past – I want to talk about the future. There are two things which I think the Giants victory teaches us, as we plot our baseball futures.

One is that pitching and defense really does win ball-games. It's practically a cliche, but the Giants proved it is also a  practical plan for success. This edition of the club is built around the double-Cy Young winner Tim Lincecum. He opened the post-season with a 14-strikeout effort in a 1-0 win over Atlanta. That game encapsulated the San Francisco experience – not much offense to speak of, but just enough timely hitting to back up the superb pitching. Matt Cain has laboured thanklessly for years at the club, his excellent ERA always being overcome by a lack of run support. But now he's a hero. This post-season, he did not give up an earned run. Let me say that again, because it's extraordinary — Matt Cain did not give up a single earned run in the entire post-season. Add into all of this the home-grown talents of Jonathan Sanchez, Madison Bumgarner and the Beard that is Brian Wilson, and you have the core reason for the Giants success, both in the regular season and in the playoffs. As an example of the defense, I will cite first baseman Aubrey Huff, one of the off-season acquisitions. He made just three errors all season, fewer than Gold Glover Albert Pujols, and he actually played three positions. Overall, the Giants had the second-fewest errors of any National League team.

Huff also helped bring the X-factor to the club. No, not dodgy karaoke singing (although there was plenty of that at AT&T Park, with Journey a particular favourite). What I mean is that the second thing we learned from San Francisco's victory is that a team is more than the sum of its parts. There were no real marquee stars on the Giants team — barring perhaps Lincecum — and you could easily dismiss them as journeymen, cast-offs even. In my mind, for much of the season, Huff was a Baltimore Oriole, Juan Uribe was a White Sox player, and Pat Burrell was a Phillie. Cody Ross was the star of the post-season — and who the hell is Cody Ross?? But somehow they gelled together in a away that made them contenders, and made them Giants. In the post-season, the team occasionally racked up big scores, but mostly it eked out one-run wins. The timely hit was more important than a torrent of them — Uribe delivered several, but even the slumping Pablo Sandoval delivered when it was crucial. A good team can beat a collection of better players. That's something we can all remember when we next take the field.