Category: Going Through the Change

by AspiDimitrov

BUY ME SOME PEANUTS…

Herts Baseball correspondent, Rob Jones, looks back at last weekend’s celebration of British baseball

It was yet another piece of history for Herts baseball — the first ever National Baseball Championships to be held at Grovehill ballpark in Hemel Hempstead. Has any  sort of national championships ever been held in Hemel? I honestly don’t know, but I have to confess to a frisson of excitement as I first pulled up at the venue on Saturday to see crowds, tents and people stretching across the playing fields. This was baseball coming to our home. And here are some of the sights, sounds and smells …

First of all — there was great baseball. There were home runs a-plenty. Most of the action I saw was on the Grove, our oldest field, and balls kept plopping over the fence from the new diamond with regularity. The purist might not love it, but the long ball has helped give the game its vigour in the past decade, and it’s fun to see at the British amateur level. There were games which lived up to the occasion. The clash between Bracknell and London for a place in the NBL final was truly epic, going ten innings before the then-defending champions were able to inch ahead and claim a place in the final. The MK Bucks and Guildford Mavericks were locked at 3-3 going into the final inning of the single-A final, before the Bucks pulled clear. There was great pitching — for example, from Richmond’s Cody Cain, who claimed MVP honours with 12 strikeouts in the NBL final — and great fielding, including a sliding catch I saw Herts’ own Mahendra Prasad make in the shallow outfield.

Richmond Knights’ John Irving looking for his helmet after what could have been an embarassing blooper

Of course, things do not always go smoothly for even the best baseball players. A Richmond Knights base-runner nearly suffered an embarrassing moment as his side took on Leicester for the AA title. He was poised on second base when a team-mate struck out. Everyone thought it was the final out of the inning and started for the dugouts — including the runner, who was almost at third base when the catcher suddenly realised in fact there were only two outs. He seized on the ball, and the runner swivelled, losing his helmet in the process and frantically diving back to second. Fortunately for him the second baseman had also thought the inning was over, so he was not there to claim the strangest put-out of his career!

  

MK Bucks ace pitcher Tom Lloyd retrieving his cap

All these games had proper umpires, but it did not seem to prevent arguments about calls, or about the rules. The balk, for example, is a strange thing. Sometimes it can be really obvious. But once you get beyond those few cases, it seems remarkably subjective. The Eagles’ Louis Hare — who pitched tremendously in two games — was called for a balk in the decisive match-up against the Oxford Kings. It sparked much heated debate. The umpire explained to me that he had not stepped clearly enough towards first base, and was therefore deceiving the runner. But players insisted it was a move Hare had used all season with no problems, and being called for it meant Oxford were able to steal freely. During his game, the MK Bucks pitcher Tommy Lloyd knocked his own cap off during his motion. This, too, sparked a debate — mostly good natured — about whether that should be called a balk. What could be more distracting to the batter than a flying object right in his line of sight? But can a pitcher really deliberately knock off his own hat, and still deliver a pitch? It was a trademark “trick” of the once-notorious Yankees pitcher and diarist, Jim Bouton. Lloyd got the benefit of the doubt. And retrieved his hat.

Herts Eagles Manager, Lee Manning, in discussion with umpires

There was passion on display, and the questionable calls led to the most vivid displays of it — ejections. Bracknell’s manager Rob Rance was ejected from a game for arguing calls with the home plate umpire. He said that the incident had perhaps put “fire in the belly” of his team. But when the Herts Eagles manager, Lee Manning, was ejected in their semi-final against Oxford Kings, it had the opposite effect. In discussions about a controversial interference call, Manning was tossed for apparently asking one too many questions, even though the often combative manager had seemed calm and reasonable. Both teams left the field while the discussions continued and the Eagles rhythm was clearly disrupted. They scored no more runs, gave up several, and made mistakes on the bases. I have great respect for what umpires and refs try to do, but there’s no denying that controversial calls can turn a game.

The Herts fans on the egde of their seats during the AAA League semi-final clash versus Oxford

The big stars of the weekend were the fans and families who turned out to add a buzz to the event. People had come along with tents, garden chairs, and video cameras. There were grandparents, little leaguers, toddlers and babes in arms. My own two boys, who have always shown scant interest in baseball, enjoyed their time at the NBC. After some prompting they shouted “Come on Jon”, and “Go Eagles”, and waved our home-made sponge finger. And when they had finished that, they ran around chasing footballs and baseballs and toy Transfomers, and having a fine time.

Enjoying the hot dogs at Grovehill Ballpark

If I am talking about the overall atmosphere, I have to address the crowning glory of the weekend — the food! The ubiquitous hot dogs were enormous, tasty, sensibly priced and happily devoured by my own two kids. And they were supplemented by a more exotic sandwich — pulled pork. When I first saw this on the adverts for the event I wondered what on earth it was all about and had to Google the answer. When I finally got to eat one for my Sunday lunch it all made sense! A masterpiece of rich meat and tangy sauce which made my weekend experience even better. Compliments to the chefs.

Baseball, like so much that is good in life, is about more than just the result. It is about the endeavour, the humour, the colours and sounds, and the drama. There was plenty of that this weekend. While the club was certainly disappointed not to end up with a team claiming a title, it should be proud of the way it hosted a national event. It was so good I would be happy to come back next year … but there had better be pulled pork!

by AspiDimitrov

DON’T SAY IT’S OVER

The thing about baseball more than any other sport is that having played a game, what you most want to do the next day is play it all over again. My aching bones certainly don't want to do it again, but my mind and heart do. But that is never possible (unless you play in the Major Leagues, and have six games a week). And it is certainly not possible for me this time as, in July, my competitive season has come to an end.

It's good to end with something new — and so on my last appearance I finally played my first game as a Herts Hawk. I have been on their roster all year, but spent most of my time trying to offer wisdom and experience (don't laugh) to the Raptors. Sadly it wasn't to be my first win of the season, as we were outplayed by an eight-man Sidewinders team.

The Hawks are a different bag of fish to the Raptors in many ways. There is lots of talent on the team, and it plays with a positive spirit, but is probably disappointed with its results. I played a role in preventing the win this time around, so I am certainly not here to find fault! As further examples of the “value added” plays I was talking about last week, I caught two straightforward fly balls, but dropped two tougher balls which I had run down successfully but then needlessly put on the ground. It all exemplified the frustration I talked about last week.

It was a busy day in the outfield, and early in the game a booming hit came my way. It was sort of a fly ball, but was a little lower and a little faster than that. At first as I backtracked I thought I would make it, though it would be tough. For anyone who saw Ben Zobrist's catch for the Rays yesterday, it would have looked like that. But I didn't reach it, the ball bounced barely a yard shy of the home run fence and skipped over. I kicked myself about that, so you can imagine what I did later when I carefully chased down a shallow fly ball in left-centre, only to see it bobble out of my glove. I'm still not sure how I dropped it — guru Kal said I had overrun it, so he is probably right, but I maybe just didn't squeeze the glove at the right half-second.

I managed to redeem myself with two catches, and by hitting a 2-RBI double — so imagine my vibes when I then dropped another outfield ball! And that was to be my last actual play of the season. D'oh! Again it was shallow, a sinking liner, but I had seen it early and was running in so called off Tak from left field. I maybe took my eye off it as I saw him, though I should stress he did absolutely nothing wrong! Again I reached it and again the ball went down.

Other Hawks did a far better job than me, I am happy to say. Perrie made good plays from third base and, perhaps more importantly, smart plays. Knowing instantly where to throw the ball is one of the toughest things on the infield, and he did it with a sixth sense. Simon made a tremendous double play from shortstop, catching a bloop over his shoulder then making the quick throw to get the runner straying off second. And Greg showed me how it's done, taking a pop-up on the first base line even as the runner attempted to crash into him and put him off. He did crash into Greg, and they all went down in a heap, but the catch was made and the inning was over. Single-minded fielding.

So, for me, the season is over. Two weeks of work and then a summer holiday will keep me away from our remaining games. Despite my incessant grumbling on these pages, it has been great fun. Herts still shows the ideal way to play amateur sports — with passion to win, but with the ultimate aim of sharing the joy of playing. Raptors players have really come on, and have stuck with baseball despite learning some tough lessons. I don't think my own game has come on much, although I did get my first experiences of pitching and umpiring. On the positive side, I can say that after two years after stepping away from the outfield I can now volunteer myself to play almost anywhere on the diamond. Maybe next year, I'll be pulling on the tools of ignorance as the league's skinniest catcher …. OK maybe not.

 

by AspiDimitrov

SUMMER SUNDAYS

Some people enjoy getting a good thrashing on a Sunday. They maybe even look forward to it. I'm not one of them, but that is what I have endured for the past two weekends. Last week was at the London Tournament in Croydon, so it was in exhibition games really. This week was back in competition, albeit good-natured competition. Whatever you might infer from my calm exterior, I always want to win, and I want to do my absolute best. Getting thrashed rarely gives you the feelings you want.

Last week at Croydon I missed the heroics of Saturday's win, and was only there on the Sunday when we came up against the National League powerhouses of Richmond and Bracknell.  I can't grumble about the final results, however much I dislike a thrashing! But as this blog sees the world through the prism of my own performance, I can grumble a bit. I took one fly ball comfortably in left field, and blocked a ball in the gap. When playing first base I fielded balls thrown perfectly to me by Aspi and Luis, but couldn't bring down those which were thrown slightly too high. One towering pop up came my way which I was very happy with until it completely disappeared in the sun, and fell to earth.  So overall, solid results but no cigar.

I was back at first base as the Raptors returned to league action this Sunday, at home against Richmond. I'm not built like a classic first baseman — being of only average height and far less than average build — but I do enjoy playing first. You feel really close to the action, and feel involved in every play. I managed to collect a bloodied lip and a bruised shin to show for my efforts, but felt that I had little more besides.  I don't think I made any errors as such, but I can't think of a play which I was able to make which a rookie player couldn't.  And therein lies the frustration — having played this game for seven or eight years I feel I should be at a higher level. Learning to play the carom off the fence well wasn't much consolation.

My batting gave me similar concerns.  The rib strain which would probably have sidelined me for the past few weeks (had I not missed them due to work anyway) has been playing on my mind, and probably cramped my swing. At Croydon, I made a connection in my only two at-bats, even if I did get out, so I shouldn't belittle that against such lofty opposition. Facing Richmond this week, I hit the ball all four times I came up — as you should against A-ball pitchers — but never hit it hard.

So what am I driving at here? Clearly we are all limited by our individual talents, and that is certainly true of me. But my frustration is not because I can't play the way Albert Pujols does, it's because I can't play the way I can. And that means I am driving — as usual — at the frustrations of the part-time player, as he tries to balance the hankering to play every game, every week, with the fact that he has a life to live outside the game. Rust seemes to accumulate on my game far more quickly than it shakes off! I have been able to attend just one practice session since the season began.  I have played in five games, with just one more to go. That's not really good enough for the team, or for my satisfaction. Deep thoughts have to be thought about how I address this.

Being away from the action for a few weeks does at least help to highlight the positive changes in the team — rather like seeing a young relative shoot up in stature. Ken's pitching is far more authoritative than when I first saw it; Jim's pitching even more devastating. Steve Patmore caught the whole game in unpleasant heat on Sunday, and was one of our most solid defensive performers. As well as catching two pop-ups — which always look incredibly hard when encumbered by a mask and huge shinpads — he also made a perfect throw to me when a batter ran on a dropped third strike. In theory, it's an easy play but in practice, at our level, it is something else. I would consider that play my own defensive highlight of the day, and certainly one of his. Raptors were better than the scoreline suggested on Sunday, and the team can go on to even better things if they stick with the game. Hopefully the players will be a solid core for the club to build on in coming years.

by AspiDimitrov

ON THE ROAD; ON THE BASES

Ho hum. Just another week. Just another see-saw nail-biter ending in heartbreak for the Herts Raptors. It had been three weeks since I pulled on my glove — the previous occasion was the one-run drama against Tonbridge. While I have grumbled on many occasions about the frustrations of long layoffs, they do make the playing experience more intense — it's always extra special to be back, and more fun to be with the team. And Raptors games at the moment all seem to be classics!

So let's have a whizz through the Jones performance on the road at Chelmsford. In centre field, it was pretty quiet. Although the Chelmsford Clippers scored 24 runs, they got remarkably few big hits. The only one they got while I was in the game went just over the head of Tom in right field. Moments before, Chris in left field had said to me “shouldn't he be further back?” I said “Nah, he's fine, they've not got any big hits”. I'll be listening to Chris next time!

At the plate I had a bit more satisfaction — a leadoff single up the middle to open the game; a close groundout to third; then I reached after being hit squarely in the ribs by a breaking ball which never broke; and finally a walk as the rally truly got underway. My average crept up to .333, my OBP to .625. I won't be winning any awards, but at least was swinging the bat with a bit more confidence and conviction.

On the base paths I made my most maddening out. On one occasion when I reached, it loaded the bases. Like any good players, we were alert to the possibility of a wild pitch, or a passed ball. And when a pitch did squirt past the catcher, Jeff Witter seemed to head off from third. I paused for a moment to check he was indeed going, and then set off for second. But Jeff stopped. Perfectly sensible, as he thought he couldn't make it – but I was now in trouble! The catcher looked at third, couldn't get Jeff. He checked second, as I tried to sneak back to first. But when he then checked my base and found it vacant except for a fielder, it sealed my doom. A good throw and a swift tag left Jones heading for the dugout looking pretty dopy. Logic suggests that aggressive running will sometimes lead to outs, but being tagged on the bases always feels like such a waste.

With plenty of new guys to get in the game I was benched and was able to enjoy the finale from the sidelines. Yes, of course I'd prefer to have been playing, but the experience was like being a particularly attached fan. It was tense and it was exciting and you felt as if you were taking every at-bat, fielding every ball. The Raptors were unlucky to lose after competing so hard.

My own process of “Going Through the Change” has perhaps stalled — as I must serve as a utility player when I can make it to games — but there can be no doubt that this set of Raptor players are going through a change of their own. It will be fascinating to see where they end up. 
 

by AspiDimitrov

RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW

The head coach of the NFL's Buffalo Bills, Marv Levy, used to rally his team with a speech which ended like this — “Where else would you rather be, than right here, right now?” And that phrase rang though my head as the Herts Raptors' epic game against Tonbridge came to a climax on Sunday evening. Bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, two out. Tying run on third base, winning run on second. It had been an extraordinary game, lasting over five hours, and the day had waned from blazing sunshine to long shadows. Moments like this are why we play sports.

But it was to end in heartbreak. Tonbridge held on to take the game 31-30.

No matter how high the score, or how long the game, when it ultimately comes down to such a fine winning margin you can't help but wonder “what if”.  I know that our fearless leader, Ken — who fate dealt the final out — had plenty of them going through his head on Sunday night. But three quickly leapt into my own, showing how easy they are to find: what if I had swung away in the final inning, rather than taking the walk? What if, as third base coach, I had earlier helped keep my runner out of a double play when we had a man on third and nobody out? And what if I had caught a bloop which went over my shoulder as Phil tried to close out the top of the ninth?

I don't know the answers, of course, but I can have a good guess. Question 1 — very little would have been different (and he only threw me one strike anyway). Question 2 — very little would have been different (sometimes the ball just goes where you least want it to). And Question 3? You guessed it. Very little would have ben different (and I couldn't have caught it, otherwise I would have done so in real life instead of just in my head). A baseball game is a collection of tiny incidents and tiny confrontations which make up a rich whole. If you deconstruct it, it's just not the same any more.

 I personally contributed little to the game, to be honest, I was an enthralled passenger as much as anything. But at least I broke my duck at the plate, getting my first hits of the season. Actually, my best “hit” wasn't a “hit” at all. It was a line drive which crashed into the trees just foul down the third base line.  You don't score anything for how many leaves and branches you take out, and at the end of the day it's just another strike.  But I did get a couple in the right place later, and my batting average jumped dramatically from .000 to .286. Impressive, eh? I am still taking solace from my .583 OBP. But who's counting. I would've had another walk in my first plate appearance if I had kept my bat out of the way of a pitch behind my head! I haven't done that since my rookie season.

There were enormous positives for the team. Our three pitchers, all first-timers this season, battled fantastically and even threw up zeroes on the scoreboard. Simon was a rock at first base. And of course the players scored thirty runs, three times their previous best. Where would they rather be? Right now, they'd probably rather be celebrating a win. But — failing that — I hope they are happy to have been part of both history and drama.  

by AspiDimitrov

BIG DAY IN LITTLE HEMEL

Before I post anything more considered and coherent, I just want to say two things.

One, the Raptors put in a great performance in an extraordinary game yesterday. It was heart-breaking to lose but everyone there knows the team hit better than ever, fielded better than ever and — above all — competed  better than ever. The game was every bit the equal of last year's marathons against the Marauders. The players involved should pat themselves on the backs. And, of course, aim to go one better next time!

Second, the club as a whole should be proud to have opened up the second diamond this weekend. Big thanks go to Aspi, Marty, Jason, Tim and everyone who has worked on the project. To guys like Lee, and John who have been with Herts for about a hundred years and helped make it what it is. Yesterday was a fantastic day, with sunshine, music and cheering fans, and I understand we had lots of new kids at the Little League on Saturday. Fantastic job all round.

 

by AspiDimitrov

PITCHING IN

Let's face it — anyone who has seen baseball and enjoyed it even a little bit, wants to get up there and pitch.  For all the glamour of hitting home runs, the pitcher is the guy at the absolute centre of the game. He even gets to stand on a little hill, for heaven's sake. It's what everybody wants to know when you tell them you play baseball: are you a pitcher? And finally this season, several players — including your humble correspondent — have made their debut and got a taste of what it is all about. 

I always knew I wouldn't become a regular pitcher. I don't throw the ball hard, I am not a big, strong guy, and I don't have Timmy Lincecum's freakish ability to overcome a small frame with fantastic mechanics. But I never gave up hope! This year, in our Opening Day blowout by Southampton, the opportunity finally arose for me to tug the manager's sleeve and say “Hey, put me in”. And I enjoyed every second of it. Really, really enjoyed it. The game follows your rhythm, the fielders watch you, the runners watch you, the hitters watch you. The game is yours to win, and to lose. Maybe even Timmy remembers with fondness the first time he stood on the mound…

Although I enjoyed it, that's not to say I was happy with the results, not by a long shot. But it wasn't a disaster. I told the team before we went out that my aim was to throw strikes, and let the hitter earn his way on base — not to toss him BP, you understand, but not to get caught out by trying to be too fine. And I honestly don't remember walking anyone, although I assume I must have done. So I will count that in my favour. There were hits, certainly. I remember one strong double going into left field. But there were also three outs. The first was a ground ball to our infielders who had a a really good day at Southampton. The second was — oh yes — a strike-out. Why didn't I buy that ball off the Mustangs! I struck someone out!! And then I also helped make the final out — a towering pop-up which I lost about four times in the sun, then bobbled as it came down, only to be rescued by Phil Gover, alert on the infield,  standing next to me — he promptly caught it cleanly.  

I am happy to be my own toughest critic and so I can tell you that I singularly failed to ignore the batter. I did feel constrained, and ended up trying to place the ball into the zone, rather than throwing it through. That meant that more than one pitch bounced on the plate! I didn't focus enough on the glove, despite years standing in the outfield shouting to the pitcher to just “put it in the glove”. I never imagined it was that easy but now I know for sure.

The Raptors manager this year, Ken, has laudably decided that people should be given the chance to step on to the mound as well as stepping up to the plate. Jeff is our only “veteran” pitcher and so, as well as me, there have been first timers in Bryan Drummond, Jim Arnott, Ken himself and Phil Gover. I know they have all enjoyed it and will gladly go back for more, and I will be right there with them. Phil has been this week's phenom. “Such a great feeling” was how he summed up the experience. “Pretty stunning” was what the manager said. I suspect he, like me, will long remember the feeling when he took the game ball in his hand, and stepped to the heart of the action.

 

by AspiDimitrov

THIS IS WHERE IT STARTS

Beatiful spring sunshine; a shimmering green expanse of grass, broken only by the orange slash of a home run fence; the steady background hum of the motorway. This was Opening Day for the Herts Raptors, on the road in Southampton. This is where it starts.

Whatever history shows of the season, I can say that I scored the first Raptors run. And that felt good. Mustangs were clearly a more experienced and powerful side but, after falling behind, Raptors battled back. I led off an inning — maybe the fourth — with a walk and then a steal, before the batter and I telepathically went for a hit and run and I scored on a ground ball bouncing through the infield.

Overall my batting was a rally-killer, so apologies to the team for that. Regular readers of this blog — of which I'm sure there are many — know I spent much of last season moaning about my approach at the plate. It's one area where I feel I should do a whole lot better and I needed to be more aggressive yesterday. I shall console myself that I got better each time I had to swing, going from three watched strikes, to a foul tip, to a ground-out. Had I come up again, presumably I'd have got a hit!

My fielding was more successful. I had a couple of unnecessarily dramatic catches of infield pop-ups, and didn't drop anything that came my way at first base (you can tell I have such high expectations). For rookies, the Raptors were really solid in the field. Tom made an excellent debut behind the plate; Phil and Bobby made tough plays look easy from third and short; and Jim made a really good over the shoulder grab at second base. William was our second debutant catcher of the day and he did a fine job blocking my debut effort off the mound. But more of that another time….

No feeling could have been better than winning, especially winning against the odds, but there were plenty of smiles as the Raptors packed up for the day. We did not beat ourselves and, in fact, we made some really good plays. And perhaps more importantly, we had the same spirit that the team had last year — to play our best, and to have fun doing it.

 

by AspiDimitrov

WE JUST WANT TO PLAY

Much has been written over the past couple of weeks aboutthe excitement of Spring Training, as Major League players turn out in theFlorida and Arizona sunshine to renew their love affair with baseball. Thepossibilities seem limitless, the season ahead always looks bright andpromising.  But to enjoy all of that youhave to be able to play the game!!  Forthe Herts club, another week's training has been defeated by the bad weather,the second in a row. After a pretty successful pre-pre-season in the gym and onhard courts, the return to the grassy diamond has been something of a bust. Allwhen it seemed tantalisingly close. 

Like many Herts players I have to get my fix where I can. In this instance, asseen in this grainy photo, it was at work, in the middle of a night shift,throwing the ball against a handy wall. Not textbook training, perhaps, but thenext best thing if the weather doesn't want to co-operate. As long as you canput up with the odd curious security guard, and rats chasing each other aroundthe nearby bins, it's a great location.  No, really, it is.

To add insult to inconvenience, the day outside is clear and sunny as I writethis. That's no use now! We need the right weather at the right time. Lastseason we had good luck all summer. Let’s hope the recent burst of bad weatheris the storm before the calm.

by AspiDimitrov

THIS DOESN’T HAPPEN IN FLORIDA

As I stepped out of my house to go to my first training session of the year, it started to snow. Soft, white flakes drifted gently through the crisp air. I thought to myself  “This doesn't happen in Florida”.

Despite the temperatures of about 2 celsius — and what became, at one point, a thick flurry of snow — more than thirty guys turned out each of the last couple of weeks of our “Spring Training” programme.  The week before — while I was still resting on my winter laurels — there were more than forty.    Veterans and novices gathered on a concrete tennis court to go through hitting, pitching and fielding drills. It was an impressive turnout and a lot of the new recruits were impressive too — they will probably be forcing me out of the team before the end of the season!

After both weeks, my arms ached, my hip ached and my legs really ached. I had tried hard to keep doing exercise over the winter, but nothing that came close to three hours of running and catching. I hope that as the season goes on, the aches will become fewer, and the results of my practice will become better.