Second Chance at Bat, page 10
With the bases empty, Harmon made contact on a breaking ball that Holland fielded and flipped to first. From the on deck circle, Joe wondered how he was going to hit pro pitching.
* * *
Ozzie Diaz had trouble adjusting to Joe’s knuckle ball. This could be an issue with swinging strike threes or with runners on base. Joe didn’t dial it down at all. He threw each one with the same arm speed learned the day before.
* * *
Joe had turned over the order with no hits or walks and was back to the top of the order in the bottom of the Fourth. Denny struck out swinging with Diaz having to pick up the ball and throw to Champy on First for out number one. Jeltz then hit Joe’s next pitch straight over Joe’s head for a clean single.
* * *
Kiko Garcia had his game face on this morning. As he strode to the batter’s box, he was all business. He had struck out the first time up. Last night was last night and he was a baseball player after all. Joe was throwing to the oversized mitt of a veteran Phillies catcher. He had as much chance as any of the batters to figure out where his pitch would go. Kiko watched the first pitch float by for strike one. Joe took the ball and like BP a thousand times before, stretched and threw to the glove. Kiko tried to adjust to the speed and follow the dancing baseball, but couldn’t connect for strike two. Joe checked the runner and threw to Diaz’s mitt, only it never got there. A mighty swing sent Joe’s offering high into the sky and over the right field fence. Joe had never seen a ball hit off him go that far. No one had ever sent his knuckler into orbit.
* * *
Game over. Just like that. A walk off home run.The greatly relieved Legends ran out to congratulate Garcia. Joe walked off the mound head down.
* * *
The Legends and Bay Sox lined up for handshakes. Each Legend had something to say to Joe about his no-seam knuckle ball as they shook his hand.
* * *
Back in the lower dug out, the Bay Sox assembled one last time. “Why the long faces, you weren’t even a team 4 days ago. You then went out and won the camp trophy. You took the Legends into extra innings playing them straight up. Am I missing something here?” Benny asked.
* * *
“We lost.” Joe said, “Sorry guys.”
* * *
Benny said to the Player Rep, “Read off D’s stats”.
* * *
“2 wins, 1 loss, 15 and 1/3rds innings of consecutive shut out ball over 3 straight days. He gave up one extra base hit and scattered 6 singles, walked two, while only giving up only two runs.”
* * *
Benny said, "Nothing to be sorry about there D. Now your hitting was another story.”
* * *
Everyone laughed and it broke the tension.
* * *
His Honor asked, “Do you think they’ll want a rematch?"
* * *
“No way.” Benny said.”They were happy that the game ended in their favor. It would have been like the varsity losing to the freshman team. They would have never lived it down, you guys beat them in the regular three innings remember that.”
* * *
So they did. Julio had disappeared about the same time as Kiko’s moon shot settled over the fence and wasn’t there to offer his appreciation or for them to thank him either.
* * *
They limped to the showers, put on their street clothes, got on the bus to the airport, said their goodbyes and flew home. Ballplayers became businessmen again. There were e-mails, to-do lists and phone calls galore. By the time Joe was scraping the ice and snow off his car that evening in the long term parking lot, the fatigue of the 4 days had settled in and the aspirin had worn off. He needed both hands to scrape his windshield for the long ride back to Reading to face Linda and try to think of a way to reconnect with his son who he longed to tell the story of these past several magical days. He had just had an experience of a life time, rivaling Williamsport and wanted to share it.
BACK HOME
Opening Day held a special meaning for Joe DiNatale as he was still glowing
from the Phantasy Baseball camp. The Bay Sox had been swapping photos and stories
since returning home. Each time, he would savor opening the emails with their long list
of jpegs and reply with a photo or two he had taken from his iPhone.
He arranged to go out to dinner with a few of his teammates and their wives. Linda made sure that she had to work on those occasions and therefore had a built-in excuse for her absence. There was lively talk about the magic of that long weekend how they came together as a team. Work found its way into the conversation, with each guy talking about how things were going better since their return. It was as if their winning ways carried over into their real world. What was surprising to Joe was their insistence that he find an adult hardball league to pitch in. Their wives, who did not go to camp, encouraged Joe as vigorously as they did. What a pleasant surprise that was to Joe, who was getting zero encouragement at home. His teammates again told him that he had a special pitch and to work on his hitting. With his speed, he could leg out plenty of infield grounders until he got his stroke back.
With the prospect of no coaching of any sort for the first time in twelve years, he began
to think seriously about playing ball. He had spent long hours talking this over with
Howie Hunter who was a good sounding board. So Joe kept throwing in the gym and
hitting in the cages. He began to make enquiries around the area and found Boyertown
had a team called the Expos in the Ches-Mont Baseball league. Winter finally broke
and a couple nice days in March teased him that Spring was just around the corner. The
Boyertown team was not thrown together and they had known each other, many since T-ball. He signed up and immediately became the “new guy”. After several practices during mud season, he would have to settle on playing the outfield and pitch in blow-outs until summer vacations and tired arms rolled around.
He followed the spring training of the Big Phillies with more interest than usual to see
if Hot Shot was getting any quality innings. Howie kept him informed of the boy’s
progress. As the Phillies broke camp, Hot Shot got moved up the ladder to the Double A
Reading Phillies returning home as a hero and a spot-starter or long reliever.
* * *
“Hey Coach D, how’s it going?”
* * *
“Fine, Blake. Fine. Congratulations on your promotion to the Little Phillies."
* * *
“Thanks coach, I am really excited about the opportunity. I hope I can make the most of
it.”
* * *
Whether this was rehearsed or the genuine politeness that you saw from boys that had
gone into the Armed Services and came home for the first time after boot camp in their
shiny uniforms, Joe had to like it. “So what brings you into the DiNatale Insurance
Agency?”
* * *
Hot Shot answered, “My truck is being driven up from Florida as we speak. They are
shipping my stuff from my apartment and I need insurance on both. Do you happen to
know a good agent?"
* * *
Both men were smiling now. Joe still thought of Hot Shot as the wild teenager that he had insured before while holding his breath. He did it as a favor for Howie, but knew the boy liked to party hard. Still, he had no serious accidents in the short time from getting his license, until the time he went to South Florida.
* * *
“Any chargeable accidents or moving violations while ripping up Single-A?"
* * *
“Nope, clean as a whistle. Last thing, you want to do is give the team a black eye in the
host city.”
* * *
Joe knew that Clearwater was a tough town on DUI’s or DWI’s and that ballplayers
got no special treatment. Julio and Benny had been very clear about that and kept their
drinking to the hotel bar where they could walk to their rooms without worrying about
having to take a breathalyzer.
* * *
“We can set that up for you. Where are you going to live?”
* * *
“I wanted my own place, but Dad wouldn’t have anything to do with it. He worked it
out with the apartment manager to get a vacant two-bedroom corner.”
* * *
Howie bounced around the greater Reading area managing the maintenance staff of the
larger apartment complexes and usually bartered work on a vacant apartment while living in it rent-free. He also had the headaches of being on-call for every little thing as an on-site super.
* * *
“So any chance you might pitch tonight?”
* * *
“You never know, I am not starting but if the number one guy implodes, I might have to
do middle relief. I was able to score tickets for everybody. I was going to ask you, can I
invite Joey?”
* * *
There it is. Why didn’t Joe see it. Hot Shot is back in town and wants to invite his friends.
Joey is his best friend. He wants to invite his old coach too. He doesn’t want to step on any toes.
* * *
“Go ahead and invite him Blake, your dad and I can use the seats that Mr. Callahan finds for us. It won’t be the first time that we came in through the back door.”
* * *
“Thanks Coach. By the way, word got out how you pitched down there in January. The
Legends that coach us couldn’t stop talking about your knuckleball.”
* * *
“No kidding Blake.”
* * *
“I kid you not, Coach D, but they didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know from
firsthand experience.”
* * *
“Yeah, but it surprised me though. Throwing to you youngsters in BP turned out to be the same as throwing to former major leaguers in a game situation.”
* * *
“Well it won’t be forgotten for a long time, Coach D. By the way, Julio Vasquez got
promoted to bullpen coach for us. He couldn’t stop talking about how he discovered
you.”
* * *
“Thanks Blake, I’ll make sure to spill a drink on him from the stands tonight. So how do
the big Phillies look?”
* * *
“Our ace has had shoulder tightness all spring. His starts have been spotty. The cold
weather is not going to help. The number two guy is solid. We got the third guy from
Oakland. He’s been around both leagues and has a rubber arm. He’s an inning-eater. The fourth guy got some time last year as an end of the season call up and looks like he can handle the fourth turn on the rotation as a rookie. The long reliever from last year looks to be the fifth starter Offensively, it’s a mature team with the right field platoon. The second year guy behind the dish is learning how to call the game better. Defense is not a problem, although look to get a defensive replacement at first for Ellis Long as part of a double-switch when you bring in the setup man or closer.” This may be his last year.
* * *
“That’s quite the scouting report, Blake. It must have been wild working out with those
guys during spring training.” Joe said.
* * *
“Coach, now that I am this close to “The Show”, any injuries or trades, can move me
right up the depth chart. I have to be doing my best, cause I won’t know when my shot
will come.”
* * *
“I hear you son. I understand that they are going to sell out at Citizens Bank Park South
this afternoon”.
* * *
“Yeah, try as they might, the Nationals have a tough time restricting ticket sales away
from Phillies fans. They will be there in force with their colors, loud as ever.”
* * *
“Well, good luck tonight Blake, remember you’ve been on that field before, so you are no stranger to Reading Memorial”.
* * *
“First Energy, Coach D. First Energy.”
* * *
“I grew up there too Blake, I was on some good teams back in the day, it will always be
Reading Memorial to me.”
* * *
“Its not so hard seeing you as a ballplayer after hearing what the legends said about you.”
* * *
“Thanks, Blake. See you tonight.”
* * *
As Hot Shot left the office, Joe settled down at this desk and his eyes were again drawn
the Philly paper, The Daily Sun and the Sports page featured columnist. Joe had stopped reading him years ago when the acid-tongued beat writer’s negativity made the front page’s litany of murders, shootings and corruption look downright cheerful. He got
hooked by the article’s title and found himself immersed in the story.
* * *
Opening Day: As good as it gets
* * *
By Stew Menke
* * *
Nowhere but here has there been a longer continuous stretch of opening days for any
baseball club in the same city. Before electricity and automobiles, the game of baseball was played by your favorite hometown club at ‘Recreation Park’. Four ballparks later, a lot has changed in those years, but some things are changeless. Green grass mowed to perfection,chalk lines crisp and clear map out the field. The cold rains of November followed by the harsh winter snow and sleet strip away all the smells of stale beer and grease from bleachers and life at the park begins anew. Everybody starts out at the same place and the possibilities are endless.
Even Cubs fans think they have a chance on Opening Day. For on this day, we don’t talk about free agency, multi-year, mega-million dollar contracts, steroid testing or revenue-sharing. There is a “Field of Dreams” mystique to the day where the connection goes back through over a century of players and uniform styles and odd-shaped leather gloves. That same connection runs through generations of Philadelphians that
have made the Phillies family part of their family. Radio and TV moved the game into living room parlors on Easter Sunday or in backyards during Holiday barbeques or fireworks. No decent block party would survive without scores being passed around like squares of Aunt Mae’s tomato pie.
Tell me, does a Father’s day not pass for persons of a certain age recounting where they were when Bunning was perfect against those upstart Metropolitans?
Added together, none of those days carry the significance of Opening Day. The slate
is clean, The Jubilee year begins, The Phanatic hasn’t aged a day, the hot dogs are delicious (maybe even kosher) and all is right with the world. Hope springs eternal.
So we throw caution to the wind and root for our home team just as our great
grandparents did one score after Lincoln’s train ride to Gettysburg. Let the season begin.
* * *
Wow. Where did that come from? Joe kept waiting for the punch line or more
appropriate, the sucker punch, but Menke never threw it. Maybe he is getting mellow in
his old age? Joe put the paper away and returned the work piled on high on his desk.
* * *
xxxxx
* * *
“Whaddya looking for Joey?”
* * *
‘Howd this cop know my name?’ Joey craned his neck up and shielded his eyes from being blinded from the search light that had been aimed at this side view mirror. He made out the face of John Chudzy underneath the police hat pulled down low.
* * *
“Oh hey Johnny, how you doin?”
* * *
“Just fine Joey- and you?”
* * *
“Okay, I guess”.
* * *
“ I need to see your license, registration and insurance.”
* * *
Joey rustled around in the glove box for the registration and insurance and reached into his jeans for his license handing them to the former Little Leaguer and now rookie police officer John Chudzy. Joey noticed how the mag lite focused its beam on Joey’s hand in the glove box, then to his left hand ongoing back into his pants pocket.
