It's taken me three days to put words on the screen this week, and I'm not sure why. Partly, it's because I just don't know where to start. The Raptors took what a Norwegian football commentator once called “a hell of a beating”, but as I mull over it constantly it's still hard to see where it all went wrong. Visions of errors — some of them my own — drift through my mind, but not enough visions to add up to a thirty-run loss. We were not outclassed this week, although we faced a good team. More, we were beaten by our own inability to land the killer blow — stranding runners on base, and giving up too many runs with two outs. It's a cliche to say that baseball is a game of inches, but it is an unforgiving game. It's about executing the plays, with precision. There is lots for us to work on.

I must add that team spirit is still extremely strong. This was a blowy, wet and grey day at the Grovehill ballpark but an admirable number of players turned up and endured the worst that the British spring could throw at us. In my capacity as stand-in manager, I had to rotate lots of players in and out of the game and they all took it with good grace. I remain optimistic for our future.

And how did I get on, as manager, and first baseman again? As I said, the mistakes were there. I don't know if they were scored as errors but your job on first base is to deal with whatever throw comes your way and on a few occasions I didn't do that. Mainly, it was when I needed to tag a runner — on one play, I turned my head away from the catch before I had the ball secure, too eager to make the tag; on another I was too distracted by the guy bearing down on me and failed to stand firm and receive the ball. It's easy to dismiss the distractions that are there in a busy baseball diamond, but not so hard to actually ignore them. As a manager … well, it's great fun and a great pleasure to take the reins when needed, but I will certainly join the team in welcoming back our fearless leader Slater for next week's game!

It's two days since the game ended, and my body is slowly recovering. The bruise which stopped me closing my hand is starting to fade, the gash on my shin has new skin. And when I think that I got off lightly compared to some of my team mates, you do wonder why we do this for fun. The Raptors have so far shown an alarming enthusiasm for putting their bodies on the line — Ken has tried repeatedly to separate himself from his shoulder; Iwan tried to hurdle the catcher to steal home and nearly broke his back. And all this is without our most persistent masochists getting involved — Stevie normally gets poleaxed on a regular basis, but instead, at the weekend, he was stroking RBI doubles.

So is there any need for all this pain? Over my years at the Herts club, we have had any number of bleeding faces and black eyes (including one of my own), all topped off with a broken jaw (not mine). But nobody flinches. My wife thinks we're all bonkers. I suspect she's right. Maybe it's all part of the release we get by playing competitive sports. And kept within sensible limits, I think injury is a perfectly healthy part of sport.

This was a case of “Going back through the change”. Not so much a bold vision of the future, more a return to the past. To fill our needs with only nine players available, I was in the outfield this week.  And it was a nice, comfortable fit. Five catches, I think, including one of those satisfying slick moments that I was hoping for in my last entry — a sliding, diving catch in shallow centre field, the sort you want to watch over and over on the highlight reels. I didn't make a single out at the plate, so I will count that as a positive, too — although getting hit by a pitch for the second week running had not been part of the plan.

And how about the team? I think we would all agree we were a bit outclassed this week, but when the opposition is reportedly stacked with GB-squad talent, that's no disgrace.  Our pitcher, Jon, was once again a complete stud, and only really gave up two big hits. The others were just ground balls finding holes, or close defensive plays that we didn't quite make.  Our batters are starting to be patient at the plate, and we capitalised on walks handed out by the relief pitchers, to the point where we nearly avoided the slaughter rule!

It's that time of week when you really start to feel the presence of the weekend's game, just around the corner. I work shifts, so the “Friday feeling” is a bit of a mystery to me — but the imminence of a baseball game gives life a whole new sheen. You check the weather forecast; you start planning your route to an away game; and you catch yourself practising your batting swing while waiting in line at the canteen. There is the tantalising possibility that the last week's disappointments can be replaced with slick plays in the field, and majestic hits at the plate. Every week, it's a fresh, green canvas. Maybe that's what keeps us coming back.

This was my first game of the season so there were lots of firsts – the first satisfying out; the first frustrating error; the first hit; the first walk. And I was on first base, too. It's almost poetic isn't it?

The first out came quickly, in the top of the first inning, a ground ball slower than I originally judged, so it didn't have the momentum it needed to jump into my glove. Therefore I juggled it before running to first and stepping on the bag. Not smooth, but an out nonetheless. The key mistake came late in the game. First is an unforgiving position — great to be involved so often, but the out is considered routine, the easy play, and you have to make it. When it would have really helped us to beat the runner, I let a low throw from the shortstop slip out of my glove, when I might've done better to have scooped it up. You learn. Well, let's hope.

Overall there were bright spots for the team. Our inexperience showed but there were few howlers, if any, and there is heart in abundance. We lost by what the Americans would call “a football score” but it could all have been so different. I am up and running, with a mix of good and bad on the report card.

Hello there,

I am Rob Jones, of the Herts Raptors. I have been with the club for six years, playing pretty much exclusively as an outfielder. Having finally won a Gold Glove last year, I am now trying out life as an infielder. That is the “Change” that this blog will be about. Of course, it'll also be about the team's ups and downs, the joys and frustrations of life as a small-time British baseball player, and probably a bit about the weather.