Second Chance at Bat, page 34
* * *
"How many pitchers you use tonight?" Stew asked even though he kept his scorecard in his coat pocket.
* * *
"Between Harmon and I, we must have wore out the grass between the dugout and the mound." Doc said. "More importantly, how many of them couldn't lay down a simple bunt."
* * *
Doc knew this observation was "off the record". In years past, Stew would file that factoid away and then report on it at some later date. Barnes would then have a special bunt practice and nobody would argue with it. Stew wouldn't be doing those favors next year. Tomorrow could be his last game as a columnist reporting on the Phillies.
* * *
Reading Stew's mind, Doc said. "So, you are really gonna hang up the spurs after the season?"
* * *
"Well, I figure I'll have the rest of October to reconsider my decision." Stew smart-assed him back.
* * *
"Wouldn't that be sweet. Win today, win the Wild Card play-off on Tuesday and stay on the coast to play the Giants to start the ride into the Fall Classic".
* * *
"That would be sweet. Can you imagine Joe throwing his no-seamer in the World Series?" Stew dreamed out loud.
* * *
Both men enjoyed watching Joe pitch and play baseball. But Doc had an additional observation that he shared with his friend. "On the bench, He's a real student of the game. I could easily see him coaching in our system when his playing days are over. He has a nice style with the veterans and the kids all want to be like him."
* * *
"Joe's been special to me too for a lot of reasons. Like you and my ex-, he isn't afraid to call me on my shit-and what he's done for this team is simply amazing. I wonder if that's why his kids went almost all the way not too long ago?" Stew asked.
* * *
"I don't know where it comes from, but I've never seen a less selfish individual in my life. It's all about the team, its genuine. He's had plenty of time to get the big-league big -head." Doc noted.
* * *
"I think I may know one other guy that puts the team in front of his own ego". Stew continued. "Whether it was a squad of Marines in a firefight or a minor league team in the backwaters of baseball, Thomas, you are always about the team."
* * *
"Aw shucks, Stewart It must be really late or the scotch is getting you all sentimental on my sorry ass." Doc replied.
* * *
"It must be that 'Average Joe' with his magical pitch. It is all his fault." Stew said doing his best Julio Vasquez impression. They lingered in silence for a spell. Stew stubbed out his butt and patted his friend on the shoulder as he left the manager's office.
* * *
Doc knew he'd be doing the Manager's Corner with the long-time TV announcer in a few hours. He would field the easy ground balls about the loss and talk optimistically about their chances in the final and deciding game of the season. He knew how to say the right things for the viewers. After all, they paid good money for their cable subscriptions and the sponsors wanted games like this so they could pitch products or services in front of as big and wide an audience as possible. Baseball is a game considered boring by some, but it also is a business. Big business. A lot was riding on the 'magical pitch' and the guy throwing it.
As the games became more important to the standings, Doc never saw a change in Joe's demeanor. Doc believed Joe looked at his pitching like he was throwing batting practice to the kids. Whether it was a rock-strewn field or a packed stadium, it was just pitch and catch. He was given something special and he wasn't going to screw it up by letting his ego get in the way.
It would be easy for Joe to succumb because the numbers were staggering: 30-7 in 44 starts, a sub 2 era, and as many strikeouts as the 300 plus innings pitched. All of this since the first week of May and he missed over three weeks of starts with injuries. On the fielding side, he should get a Gold Glove hands down. Not a great hitter, Joe still did all the little things right. Hit behind the runner, sacrifice, bunt to get on base, steal, go first to third, and score from second on soft singles. You'd want ten of him in your clubhouse for attitude alone. He learned how to handle the press like a pro and was a model citizen off the field. Tom wouldn't be surprised if he'd be out for his morning jog and yoga when the sun came up. Still, even when the world couldn't get enough of "Average Joe", Doc would see Joe listening intently to the pearls of wisdom from Vic one minute and talking smack with Ellis the next. Joe didn't let all the hoopla distract him from the game.
Doc got to witness firsthand the competitive spirit when Bruiser knocked Joe down or when Joe tried bare-handing a screamer to preserve a no-hitter. It wasn't just the 'magical pitch', it was the man. The guy Doc got to know during layovers, rain-outs and red-eyes. Whether the pitch was magical or not, the man was the real deal. He'd share a foxhole with Joe when it mattered. There was only a handful of people he could say that about. Joe and the guy that just limped out of his office were two of them.
* * *
xxxxx
* * *
WHO WANTS IT MORE?
By Stew Menke
* * *
It all started innocently enough. The Rego Park Boys and Girls Club came out onto Citi-Field and sang that song about 'Rockets red glare and bombs bursting in air'. 6 hours and 2 minutes later, the Mets Flag was still there. If yesterday's artillery exchange is any indication of what's in store for today folks, we are in for a battle royale. Not since the Thrilla in Manilla, have we seen two heavyweights slug it out toe to toe like this. Firing broadsides at each other for 15 rounds, the Phillies and Mets refused to quit, until the home team limped away with a 9-8 win. They were staring down the barrel of a long and miserable cold off-season. They didn't quit and sail off into the sunset. To the Phillies credit, they fought hard too, but couldn't deliver the KO. Twice in extra innings the Mets came off the ropes and answered with their own body shots, until Hank "Bruiser" Lee hammered a two-out walk off against the scoreboard.
The stage is set for a rematch of epic proportions. Joe DiNatale, thirty-game winner and Mets killer is scheduled to go today on short rest after his Friday night surgical strike. Do I need to recount for you the Bruiser Lee - Average Joe mini-battles in this war? These teams did a poor imitation of Frazier and Ali back in May and then Lee almost broke Joe's hand when he almost broke up Joe's no-hitter.
Just in case, you are looking for more drama, rookie hurler of heat-seeking missiles, Hot Shot Hunter is ready to reprise his role as the young gun in what might be his most important game since losing a duel for all the marbles when he was twelve years old at the Little League World Series final.
Will the Mets be able to answer the bell after their do or die marathon win? Did they leave it all on the field just hours ago to avoid elimination?
For the Phillies, its a totally different story. They are playing with house money. Every day since Joe took the hill in Miami less than 5 months ago, has been a reprieve from death row. Dead men walking started sacrificing, hit and running, double stealing, and suicide squeezing themselves back to life.
So my prayer today is a simple one disguised a question. Is Kate Smith smiling down on the other boys of Broad Street today? God Bless America.
* * *
xxxxx
* * *
This isn't good, Joe thought. As Clay and he were finishing their pre-game warm-ups, the no-seamer wasn't knuckling. Harmon and Doc had joined them in the bullpen. They couldn't detect any change in Joe's body mechanics, delivery or grip. The ball wasn't moving like it normally did when Joe threw on short rest. Worse, it wasn't floating at all. It was a fat juicy change-up.
* * *
"This is not good." Doc repeated Joe's thoughts aloud. "Did you do anything different this morning?"
* * *
"I didn't run because we got in so late, but I haven't run on some starts and did just fine."
* * *
"Sleep on your pitching arm or hand funny?" Harmon asked.
* * *
"Nope. Slept good and woke up fine". Joe answered the sage pitching coach.
* * *
They were all at a loss to figure out why it wasn't knuckling. Weather factors such as humidity and barometric pressure were ruled out. Since none of them had experience in fixing a knuckleball, they asked Joe to restart his pre-game routine in double-time. It was like rebooting a computer. Twelve minutes later it was still no dice.
* * *
Doc took the optimist's approach. "Better here in warm-ups than with the bases juiced."
* * *
They all nodded with agreement.
* * *
"You threw them a steady diet of no-seamers the other night and left early."
* * *
"Yeah." Joe nodded.
* * *
"Yeah?" Clay cocked his head to the side.
* * *
"We had you depart early with the plan that if you had to come back on short rest, you could."
* * *
"Uh-huh." both Joe and Clay answered in unison.
* * *
"How's their line-up stacked up for today, Harmon?"
* * *
"They are lining up the guys that they think can best hit his no-seamer."
* * *
"Left handers, speedsters and slap hitters". Clay said without hesitation.
* * *
"So, D you have three pitches today: a fastball that isn't real fast, a curveball that doesn't break that much and a knuckleball that doesn't flutter. Do I understand that right?
* * *
Joe was lost but answered,"Yes sir."
* * *
Clay and Harmon were nodding their heads. Joe was the only one not getting it.
* * *
"So give me a once through the line-up. They will be wondering what's going on and by the time they figure it out, we'll throw Hot Shot at them breathing fire. They will have the wrong people in there and either have to replace their entire line-up or try pinch hit when the situation favors them.
* * *
"It could work." Harmon said.
* * *
"I like it." Clay said.
* * *
"You got it Skip." Joe said.
* * *
"Get the sign, nod and throw to the mitt. Got it rookie." Clay said
* * *
"Yes sir, Mr. Triandos, sir." Joe said.
* * *
Joe had to admit that a crazy plan was better than no plan at all. The element of surprise like the time he first threw his batting practice grade fastballs and curves held some advantage. He has been in their heads since he arrived on the scene. This was the biggest game of the season for his opponents as well. Surprise, head games and pressure made for a plausible reason to take the mound with no bent arrows in his quiver. He was nine outs away from turning the ball over Hot Shot who could focus on long relief. The best arms in the pen would be determined by Harmon if they had to resort to plan B. Maybe the no-seamer will magically re-appear? Maybe the Phillies will thump the ball around the yard so much that he could an extra inning or two?
WIN OR GO HOME
xxxxx
* * *
They were all early and found their seats quickly. All ten of them. Joe told Janice there would be a posse. Not surprisingly, they looked and acted as Joe had described them. Janice had remembered Howie and Joey from the hotel the night she tried give her Mea Culpas to Joe. She was formally introduced to her Honor, Mary Margaret O'Brien, the Mayor of Reading. Janice sat next to Joey with Pam on his left. She made introductions of her Mother and Mandy. Joe's agent Jonas sat behind them and between the Mayor and the Callahans. Joe had told Joey that he and Janice were close friends, not friends with benefits as Joey had point-blank asked his father. Friends with benefits? Both Joe and Janice wondered what the hell that was.
It was standing room only and the concessions were packed. It was perfect baseball weather with temps in the low 70s and all the humidity blew out overnight to beautiful blue skies with only the occasional puffy white cloud. The wind in the stadium was blowing left to right. The jets and turbo-props beat a steady path into LaGuardia flaps up and wheels down. The music was loud and energetic. It fit the mood of the crowd to a "T". There was some red interspersed amongst the sea of blue and orange. Joe had cautioned his entourage to keep the colors neutral hoping to avoid the idiots.
The grounds crew finished their preparations and got a thumbs up from Thomas Callahan Sr for an efficient job well down. Pre-game notables were introduced and the ceremonial pitch was awarded to a lucky fan on this fan appreciation day.
The starting Phillies were announced and Janice laughed when Joe got a big cheer along with a healthy dose of grudgingly respectful boos when he profile shot flashed on the screen. The talk around town was that he had offered them some of the most exciting baseball this year without completely dashing their hopes for the final play-off spot.
Taylor lead off with a single but was quickly erased when Gonzalez hit a line drive to second and Taylor was doubled off first. Richards looked a called third strike to end the inning. A wide strike zone would help Joe a great deal today.
* * *
Joe's warm-ups were unremarkable and the Mets lead-off hitter dug in. He took the sign and threw his first pitch. Immediately, Joey, Tommy and Howie began murmuring. Janice was puzzled. It was a called strike. The next pitch was a swinging strike and it looked like it could have been a tad outside.
* * *
Tommy said it first across her shoulder to Joey. "Did he just throw a deuce?"
* * *
"Looks that way", Howie said.
* * *
All the men were leaning forward now anticipating the next pitch. The hitter was way out in front of the next pitch.
* * *
"I'll be damned." Howie said. He now leaned between Joey and Janice speaking in a hushed tone now. "Your dad just threw a fastball, curve and a change-up to strike that guy out.
* * *
The two-hole hitter wasn't fooled by Joe's first offering, a curve and laced it into centerfield.
* * *
"When's he gonna show the no-seamer?" Joey asked.
* * *
Janice could see the concern by the Reading collective. Jonas and Mary Margaret stopped talking and were now tuned into the events unfolding on the field. Mandy and Janice's mother were attending a baseball game with free tickets, oblivious to the tension around them.
* * *
Joe went 2-0 then the next batter hit a hanging curve to the warning track in right. Cater made a running back-handed catch to save a run-scoring double, but the runner did advance and Bruiser Lee came to the plate.
* * *
"This is not good" Joey said to Pam and then repeated it to Howie and Janice.
* * *
"How come?" Janice asked.
* * *
Howie was first to pipe in. "The last time he did this was for the no-hitter and he wasn't trying to throw those pitches for strikes as much as trying to keep them off balance.
* * *
Lee watched a change-up for strike one. Joe came back with an inside fastball for a ball. The fans booed and cat-called thinking it was a brushback. With the count even, Joe threw another change-up that caught the inside corner. Up in the count, Joe's curveball got laced into left field. With two outs, the runner was moving. The Mets wanted to draw first blood and the third base coach waved the runner home. Gonzalez picked it up on the second hop and came up throwing. The crowd came out of their seats in anticipation of the play at the plate. Clay was blocking the plate, took the throw on one hop and braced for the collision. The runner came in with forearms extended at glove level.
* * *
Janice watched the runner bowl Clay over. The umpire pivoted around the dust and bodies and called the runner out. It was an explosive play and the crowd howled in disbelief. Clay stood up first and dropped the ball on the sprawled body of the runner, who swatted it away. Game on.
