Tag Archives: Baseball

April 20, 2009 · 21:05

How can a Opening Day Rain Out be God’s Will?

Tonight was where I need to take exception with Saint Augustine and John “no I’m not having fun” Calvin.  Now I have to admit that I am not a very good Augustinian or Calvinist unless perchance it suits me at the time.  Where I really have a problem with them in in the subject of Predestination.  Now before all the hyper-Calvinists or neo-Augustinians get their panties in a wad or knickers in a twist, I am not referring to the subject of salvation, election, double predestination, or even double secret predestination.  These subjects were argued between my fellow students back in seminary until I wanted to throw up.

I figure that the Deity Herself is not stupid and since She created everything, of course in cooperation with Jesus and the Holy Spirit…I am after all certainly an orthodox Trinitarian in such maters, I figure that She knows who are Hers.  Where I do however differ with the former party animal (Augie)  and frustrated lawyer (John Boy) is in the matter of how this applies to baseball.

Tonight was an interesting night.  I got to the parking lot and the heavens opened.  For 30 minutes rain came down in buckets.  There was lightening and thunder, but the storm passed.  The tarp was rolled away from the field but the infield was in great shape.  However the umpires ruled that the outfield was unplayable.  Now I have been to plenty of games at Harbor Park and seen much worse conditions which were ruled playable.  Obviously this was a case of the Devil’s mischief and not a case of God’s will.  For had Calvin and Augie known about Baseball and the fact that it is the preferred sport of the Almighty, they could not have made such statements about Predestination.  Certainly a rain out of a home opener cannot be God’s will.  I am actually predisposed to believe that the postponement or cancellation of any Baseball game is not the will of God but the work of the Devil.  Now I am not one to give the Devil a lot of credence, because I believe that Christ has defeated him.  Likewise I am not one to find a Demon behind every bush.  However, to be sure, for God to to taunt us with beautiful weather on opening night after a deluge of the type that we experienced was not the work of God.  Indeed this opening day rain out  had to be the Devil’s work.  I remember opening day of 2005 when the weather was 38 degrees at game time, the field wet and winds blowing 20-30 Mph with gusts to 50 mph from Center Field.  That game was played, and numerous others in awful conditions.

I guess there can be a caveat in this, perhaps if the Giants or the Tides are behind in a game and it is before it becomes official that might be the work of the Deity herself, spot of Divine intervention as when Jesus turned the water into Ale (the Saxon translation) at the wedding at Cana.  Of course such speculation leads to certain irregularities and inconsistency on belief, however, one has to take such matters in stride and simply trust God.  Humm…trusting God, what a concept.  I think I’ve read something about that before.  Maybe my time in seminary actually has paid off.

Anyway, there is always tomorrow.  My ticket can be used in another game, which means that I will be able to take someone  with me sometime.  The beauty of the season ticket is that if you miss a game for any reason you can exchange it for another game.  I think that I will have a number of opportunities to take friends to games this year, as I am sure that the Devil will work to keep me from this wonderful gift of God. Tomorrow I go out again, same time, same seat, but hopefully better weather.

Peace,  Steve+

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April 19, 2009 · 21:16

The Church of Baseball at Harbor Park- Opening Day Tomorrow


1972-oak-park-al-rams

The 1972 Oak Park Little League Rams sponsored by Alex Spanos. I am to the left of the coach in the back row.

“Little League baseball is a very good thing because it keeps the parents off the streets.” Yogi Berra

Baseball is back at Harbor Park tomorrow as the Norfolk Tides take on the Charlotte Knights in their home opener. Weather could make this one a bit sporty.  Rain and thunder during the day tapering off overnight.  Hopefully my prayer vigil will succeed in persuading the Deity Herself to intervene.  This has not always been the case, a few years back the opening day was in early April.  The weather was 38 degrees with winds gusting to 45 mph coming out of center field. This was a tough game even by my hearty standards.  I finally took my ever long suffering and nearly hypothermic wife home after the 7th inning stretch.  Since then she has been wary of opening days here in Hampton Roads.

This season is cool because I have a season ticket for the first time.  Section 102, Row B Seat 2.  Right behind home plate, field level.  It doesn’t get any better than this for me.

If you haven’t figured this out yet, baseball is a passion for me.  I was out in town at a Starbucks following a meeting and I had my Tides hat and warm-up jacket.  The barista asked if I worked for them.  I simply replied “No, I’m a Priest, and a proud member of the Church of Baseball.”  This elucidated a laugh from the charmingly polite girl who promptly gave me my non-fat mocha, sans whipped creme. I’m not sure if she understood the significance of what I said, but to quote George Will: “Baseball is Heaven’s gift to mortals.”

I’ve never played for a baseball team, or softball team that won it all.  I guess in some ways I can empathize with fans of the Cubs and Giants, who wait every year to once again be disappointed as their team finds a way to salvage defeat from the jaws of victory.  This years Tides, who are the AAA farm team of the Baltimore Orioles may be up to something good.  They are 6 and 4 and seem to be playing pretty well.  They have a 5 game win streak coming into the home opener.  The Tides have 3 of the International League’s top ten hitters at this early point of the season.  Their pitchers have a team 2.60 ERA which right now is second in the league.  This is a far better start then the last few years and hopefully it bodes well for the team. When I was a kid, I used to watch the Stockton Ports of the California League when they were an Orioles farm team in the early 1970s.

The closest thing I have been to a championship baseball team was back in 1972.  I was a member of the Stockton California, Oak Park Little League Rams, sponsored by non other than Alex Spanos, the current owner of the San Diego Chargers. We were probably his first team to almost win a championship.  It seems fitting.  We wore the same colors as the Chargers and lost in the championship series, losing by a run in the final game.

I think that Little League, if you can get parents who want to run their kids teams out of the picture, is great for developing virtues that help kids later in life.  At least it did for me.  We had a great coach.  A guy named Phil Deweese. At least that’s how I think that he spelled it.  He was a great coach for us and actually spent time teaching us how to do things like hit, pitch,field and run the bases.  I did better at fielding, was a less than stellar hitter and usually played 2nd Base though occasionally I would play 3rd, Center Field or Catcher. Phil was great with us.  He taught us to have fun while working ahrd at the basics. We did well, had a great season and came close to winning the championship.  I was able to drive in a run and score a run in our one win of that series. My hitting in the playoff series was better by far than at any time in the season.He added to the things that my dad had been teaching me patiently for years in our back yard.  Unfortunately dad was deployed to Vietnam and did not see us play.

I was kind of a utility player, something that in today’s game you seldom see.  Utility players were guys that could be plugged in either in the field or as a pinch hitter.  They were not the team all stars, but could be counted on to give a solid performance.  That was me.  I kind of continued this as an adult playing softball, but more often than not ended up at 2nd base, occasional 1st or 3rd base.  I caught one year and was run over at home plate by a really big guy as I was going in the air to catch the throw from the outfield.  I landed hard enough to break my throwing arm.  At the time I was having my best year ever hitting.  After cussing the guy out I was finally pulled when it became apparent that I could not throw the ball. What is amazing to me is that I endured the pain to play another inning and even hit, an infield single.

Anyway.  This game is in my blood, God speaks to me through baseball. The ballpark it is one of the few places, besides my ICUs and a small Episcopal Church that I worship at that I can feel safe in public, praise be to PTSD.  At least the Deity has helped me in this regard.  Anyway, as I go back to my rounds about the medical center tonight I also maintain my prayer vigil for tomorrow’s weather. I can’t wait.

Peace, Steve+


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April 16, 2009 · 21:37

Here’s to you Jackie Robinson

“He led America by example. He reminded our people of what was right and he reminded them of what was wrong. I think it can be safely said today that Jackie Robnson made the United States a better nation.” – American League President Gene Budig

“Life is not a spectator sport. If you’re going to spend your whole life in the grandstand just watching what goes on, in my opinion you’re wasting your life.”  Jackie Robinson

April 15th 2009 was the 62nd anniversary of Jackie Robinson’s first game in the Major Leagues with the Brooklyn.  Robinson’s first game with the Dodgers came a full year before President Truman integrated the military and a full seven years before the Supreme Court ruled school segregation unconstitutional.  It was not until 1964 that the Voters Rights act passed in Congress.  Jackie Robinson paved the way for a change in American society that has continued for 62 years since his debut at Ebbetts Field on April 15th 1947.

Jackie’s feat was a watershed moment in the history of our country.  Blacks had struggled for years against Jim Crow laws, discrimination in voting rights, and even simple human decencies such as where they could use a rest room, what hotels they could stay in or what part of the bus that they could sit.  In baseball many white fans were upset that blacks would be coming to see Robinson in stadiums that they would not have been allowed in before.  Players from other teams heckled Robinson, he received hate mail, people sent made death threats, he was spiked and spit on.  But Jackie Robinson kept his pledge to Dodgers owner Branch Rickey not to lash out at his tormentors, as Rickey told him that he needed a man “with enough guts not to strike back.”

Jackie Robinson played the game with passion and even anger.  He took the advice of Hank Greenberg who as a Jew suffered continual racial epithets throughout his career “the best ways to combat slurs from the opposing dugout is to beat them on the field.” He would be honored as Rookie of the Year, was MVP, played in six World Series and six All Star Games.  He had a career .311 batting average, .409 on base percentage and .474 Slugging percentage. He was elected to Baseball’s Hall of Fame in 1962.

Today Jackie Robinson’s feat is history, but it should not be forgotten.  He was a pioneer who made it possible for others to move forward.  He would be followed by players like Roy Campinella, Satchel Paige, Don Larson, Larry Dobie and   Willie Mays.  His breakthrough had an effect not just on baseball but on society.

Jackie Robinson would have an effect on my life.  In 1975 the Stockton Unified School District voted to desegrigate.  I was in the 9th grade and preparing for high school.  As the school board wrestled with the decision anger boiled throughout the town, especially in the more affluent areas.  Vicious letters were sent to the school board and to the Stockton Record by parents as well as other opponents of the move.  Threats of violence and predictions failure were commonplace.  In the summer of 1975 those who went out for the football team, both the sophomore and varsity squads began to practice.  Black, White, Mexican and Asian, we bonded as a team, the Edison Vikings.  By the time the first buses pulled up to the bus stops throughout town on the first day of school, the sense of foreboding ended.  Students of all races discovered common interests and goals.  New friends became guests in each others homes, and all of us became “Soul Vikes.”

30 years later the Class of 1978, the first class to be desegregated from start to finish graduated from Edison held a reunion.  Our class always had a special feel about it.  Looking back we too were pioneers, like Jackie Robinson we were far ahead of our time.  When I look at my friends on Facebook from Edison I see the same faces that I played ball, rode the bus and went to class with.   Things have changed.  Even 30 years ago none of us imagined a African American President, we believed in each other and we saw potential, but I don’t think that anyone believed that we would see this in our day.

I think that Jackie Robinson prepared the way for other pioneers of Civil Rights including Dr. Martin Luther King.  Today, 62 years plus one day, Jackie Robinson looms large not only in baseball, but for the impact of his life and actions on America.  Here’s to you Jackie Robinson.  Thank you and God bless.

Peace, Steve+

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April 3, 2009 · 21:35

A Beautiful Day for a Ball Game

“You should enter a ballpark the way you enter a church.” Bill “Spaceman” Lee

me-and-lefty-phillips3 Me with California Angels Manager Lefty Phillips in 1970

Today was one of those rare early April Hampton Roads days…it was really a pleasant day.  High about 80, partly cloudy and winds from the southwest at 25 MPH.  An absolutely wonderful day for the first ball game of the year at Harbor Park.  The field looked great in spite of some nasty weather and the damage done to it by thousands of supporters of President Obama when he visited Norfolk the day before the election.

I walked from my car to the ballpark in wonder of the day.  I do believe that the Deity Herself had blessed us with this most wonderful of days.  I got to the concourse and looked at the field I had visited so many times before.  Harbor Park is a parish church of the Church of Baseball, arguably the one true church.  Like the Trinity the game is filled with 3’s.  Three Strikes, Three Outs, Three bases.  Distances between bases and the pitchers mound, all divisible by 3.

I wrote yesterday about the gift that my dad gave me.  It was nice to receive it one more time.  The Orioles and Nationals did not disappoint.  It was a well played game.  Orioles starting pitcher  Koji Uehara, formerly of the Yomiuri Giants, threw 6 innings giving up one hit, a 2 run home run to Nationals Third Baseman Ryan Zimmerman.  Japanese journalists sat at a table on the concourse reporting the story.  The final was 6-3 Baltimore.  Orioles slugger Nick Markakis belted a two run shot over the right center wall and ever patient Second Baseman Brian Roberts took a ball off the wall deep right center for a triple.  Nationals lead off hitter, former Norfolk Tides outfielder Lastings Milledge hit a solo shot off reliever Matt Albers in the top of the 9th. It was scary for a few  minutes as it looked like the Nat’s might make get a rally going.  In an interesting twist, though there were only 9 hits in the game there were no strike outs.

Sitting in a seat that in a major league park that I could never afford, my time was well spent.  I got to wish Orioles Catcher Greg Zaun a good season before the game.  He needs it, catchers get the hell beat out of them.  It was cool to see little kids looking with awe at players as they signed autographs.  I remember being a kid back at Anaheim stadium and having players talk to me, autograph hats, balls, programs was something that I have never forgotten.  Seeing the wonder in these kids eyes took me back in time. At the same time and realize that I still have the same sense of wonder that these kids experienced today.  I think that every kid need to have this experience.  I know that 99.9% will never go on to play in the show.  But the lessons that they learn on this hallowed ground, this beautiful diamond are lessons that can be used in all of life.  It’s like memorizing Bible verses, but more lot more fun.  If only we could make the confirmation process, or the ordination process more like baseball….Hummm… maybe I am on to something here….

The game ended far too soon today, the waether was too nice, the company good.  It was nice just to sit back for a couple of hours before the game and take it all in.  There were almost 12,000 people there, actually 11,833, but who but the statisticians gives a damn about that?

Opening Day is Monday, the Tides have their home opener on the 20th.  Time for church.

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April 2, 2009 · 21:37

Baseball is more than a Game, it is a Gift from my Dad

Baseball, it is said, is only a game. True. And the Grand Canyon is only a hole in Arizona. Not all holes, or games, are created equal.” George Will

Baseball has always been a source of enjoyment for me.  I’ve noted in numerous other posts that God speaks to me through baseball.  For me there is something mystical about the game.  It extends beyond the finite world in some respects and there is a symmetry to the sport unlike any other.  George Will’s quote at the beginning of this post is dead on.  Not all holes or games are created equal.

The game captured me in 1970-1971 when my dad began taking us to California Angels games while stationed in Long Beach California.  Well before that he planted the seeds watching games on a black and white TV, playing catch, teaching me to throw, field and run the bases.  While my dad thrived on all sports, baseball was the one that he gave me as a gift.  He gave my brother golf, another spiritual game, which Zen masters love, but which is not to be compared with baseball because it is not in its purest form a team sport.

Other major sports such as football, basketball, hockey and soccer are limited to rectangular playing surfaces of set dimensions determined by their leagues. With the exception of a couple of old hockey rinks there is no individuality to these venues, save perhaps for team or sponsor logos.  All of the other sports play a set time clock.  If a team gets way ahead early, it is likely that the game will be over.  While it is possible that a game could go into “overtime” the overtime in these games has different rules than regulation time.  “Sudden death” “Shootouts” and truncated times show that these games are not meant to go past regulation time.  It is an aberration from what is considered “normal.” In these games a team with a big lead can simply sit on the ball and run out the clock.

Baseball is not like that.  In order to win you have to throw the ball over the plate and give the other team a chance to come back. The nine innings could in theory go on for eternity, as they nearly do in in W.P. Kinsella’s The Iowa Baseball Confederacy, A story which is patently eschatological, though not in a pre-millennial dispensationalist manner.  Foul lines in theory go on for eternity, only the arbitrary placement of the outfield wall and the physical limitation of hitters keep the game within earthly limits.  I’m sure that outfields are a lot more spacious in heaven.

Save for the late 1960s and early 1970s when fascists took over the design of stadiums in order to make them suitable to play football on, baseball parks have had their individuality.  Outfield dimensions, type of grass, the kind of infield and warning track soil which is used, are all determined by the team.  Some fields cater to hitters, others pitchers.  And with the overthrow of the stadium fascists at Baltimore’s Camden Yards, the baseball park regained its dignity.  Gone were the ugly, drab oval stadiums, fields covered in  often shoddy artificial turf.  The unsightly and even hideous venues such as Riverfront, Three Rivers, Veteran’s Stadium and others, even dare I say the Astrodome and Kingdome were demolished and made nice piles of rubble, replaced by beautiful ballparks each with its own unique charcter that reflect the beauty of the game.

Tomorrow I go to Norfolk’s Harbor Park to see the Commonwealth Classic an exhibition game between the Baltimore Orioles and Washington Nationals.  This is one of the first of the new generation of minor league parks.  Since the Tides were then the AAA affiliate of the New York Mets, the outfield dimensions are nearly identical to the former Shea Stadium.  The outfield backs up to the East Fork of the Elizabeth River, shipyards and bridges dominate the view.  There is not a bad seat in the house.  Showers are expected in the morning but expected to be gone before game time.

Tomorrow the gift that my father gave me begins to unfold again as it does around this time every year.  This year is different, my dad is in a nursing home in the end stage of Alzheimer’s disease.  Last year he still knew enough of what was going on to talk about the Giants and diss the American League. Dad was always National League fan. He called the American League the “minor league.”  He told me stories about the greats of his childhood and he was an avid fan of Pete Rose, Rose’s banishment from baseball hit him hard.  I guess it was for him like the banishment of “Shoeless Joe” Jackson. 

Dad gave me a gift, a gift called the game, the game of baseball.  Sure, it’s only just a game.  Right… in the sense of the Grand Canyon just being a hole and the Pacific Ocean a pond.  Peace, Steve+




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March 31, 2009 · 21:14

Finishing Well-For the Love of the Game (The Perfect Game)

One of my favorite movies is the baseball story For the Love of the Game which starred Kevin Costner.  This is the film rendition of Michael Shaara’s Pulitzer Prize winning novel The Perfect Game. Both the book and the movie tell the story of “Billy Chapel” a pitcher who played 19 seasons with the same team, in the movie the Detroit Tigers.  The story focuses on the last game of the season in which Chapel is to start.  The game for his team is meaningless, they will not be going to the playoffs.  In fact the long time owner who signed Chapel out of high school is about to sell the team.

The book and the movie present a tapestry of the pitcher’s life in between pitches.  Unlike most baseball films this focus’s not on a season, but a game, a single game.  Woven in this rich tapestry of this game are the lives of several people.  A manager who has a wife with cancer, a catcher who is linked to Chapel as “his” catcher.  A former love who has drifted back into his life, a former team mate now playing for the other team and the son of a former team mate.

The story is built around the last game that Billy Chapel will pitch.  He’s old.  He has had a mediocore or for him a bad season.  His all star days are past.  His dad who taught him the game and witnessed his greatest moments is dead.  It is a story that could end like so many stories in sadness or despair.  Instead it is the story of triumph.  It is the story of how in spite of a whirl of emotions and a lot of pain from past injuries he triumphs.  He does so against an opponent that is going to the playoffs, the always dangerous Yankees in the venerable Yankee Stadium.  Chapel pitches a perfect game against the odds.  Supporting players who had failed during the season make stellar plays.  The team which had nothing to look forward to celebrates one of the rarest of human events, a Major League perfect game. Not just a “no-hitter” which I have been specially graced by the Deity Herself to see in person, but a perfect game of which only 17 have been thrown.  Perfect games are unforgettable and this story gets it right.  The game itself is a story of redemption, in life, love and the pusuit of excellence.

The story of Billy Chapel is one of finishing well.  So many people start their lives full of promise and somewhere along the way give up. For whatever reason they stop living, stop striving for excellence and forget about love, life and friendship. They forget what loyalty means.  They have lost their love and passion and simply go through the motions of existance.  In the military we have a slang term called the “ROAD program.”  It means “retired on active duty.  These are the guys who have stopped trying, they know that short of committing a criminal act  they can retire.  They go through the motions.  There are these kind of folks everywhere, not just the military.  Somewhere, somehow they have given up. I don’t want to do that.  I want my last game to be my best.

Billy Chapel is the epitome of a man who gives his all in what he knows will be his final game, a game that for everyone else but him is meaningless.  However in that game everyone finds meaning.  As he pitches and the tension builds, those who had just been along for the ride get caught up in the magic.  His manager, his journeyman catcher “Gus,”  his team mates, and even the opposing players and the hostile Yankee fans.  People who had given up find inspiration and hope. Billy Chapel creates magic on the mound which in that moment of time makes life right.  Sure it is just a novel, it is just a film, but it is life.

I find the story of Billy Chapel in The Perfect Game to be compelling.  I love baseball and for me the story of someone at the tail end of their career achieving the next to impossible is inspiring.  I find inspiration in other old ball players who keep doing well.  Jamie Moyer of the Phillies is one of those guys who inspire me.  I could well be finishing my career in the next few years.  I want my time in the Navy to matter in my last few years. If I get promoted and remain a few more, that is okay, but even then I want to finish well.  When I’m done with that I hope that God Herself will give me the grace to continue to strive for excellence in serving Her people as a priest.  I never want to be on the ROAD program even if I live to be 90. I want my last years, be they a military career, or my life to be my best.  I want to finish well. Peace, Steve+

Note: As I wrote this and thought of the book and movie I was having waves of emotion which occasionally brought tears to my eyes.  There is something that hooks me in this and I know it.  Part is the magic of baseball. Part is the story itself.  In a few days baseball begins again.  I’ll watch the Orioles and Nationals play an exhibition at Harbor Park. Today I got my season tickets for  the Norfolk Tides.  In every game I’ll see something new, I’ll find something to ponder and I’ll find inspiration.

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March 29, 2009 · 20:15

Bull Durham- Crash Davis and Journeymen Like Me

I’ve always related to the characters in Kevin Costner’s baseball films, Bull Durham, Field of Dreams and For the Love of the Game. The main characters in each of the films touch me each in a different way.

The character of Crash Davis strikes a particular chord in me.  Crash is a journeyman minor league catcher with the dubious distinction of having the most minor league homers. He also played by the way 3 weeks in “the show. ”   He is a consummate professional, loves the game and actually cares about the development of the young guys, even if they try his patience.  His dealings with Ebby Calvin “Nuke” LaLooche (Tim Robbins) is case in point.  Crash is demoted by the big team from a AAA contract to a single A contract to develop the young bonus baby.  He’s not happy with the job, he’s proud, but he takes it on with a mixture of skill and humor in a manner that benefits not only the young pitcher but motivates the rest of the team.  It does not matter that he is in the minor leagues as he still plays his heart out and spends his time teaching the next generation.  He even gets thrown out of a games if it helps motivate his team and let’s his young charge learn the hard way when young “Nuke” decides to ignore his advice.

My life is like a journeyman ball player.  I started in the Army,and to use the baseball journeyman analogy I played one position for a number of years and then so to speak left the big team to train for a new position while playing in the minors.  When I graduated from seminary and becoming a National Guard and Reserve Chaplain  while doing my hospital residency and first hospital chaplain jobs it was like working my way up through the minors.  When I was promoted to the rank of Major in the Army Reserve it was like moving up to Triple A ball.  When I got mobilized it was like getting promoted to the majors.  When that time ended and I returned to the reserve it was like being sent back to the minors.  I honestly thought that I would spend the rest of my career there, maybe getting called up for brief periods of time but knowing that my career was destined to end in the minor leagues.  That changed when I was given a chance to go into the Navy.  I reduced in rank and came in with no time in grade meaning that I was starting from scratch with a new slate.  Now all of my experience was still there, but I was starting over.  It was like when a player gets traded between from the American League to the National League in mid season, or is called up from the minors to play on the big team.  His slate is clear, it is a new start.

I’ve been blessed, I got a chance to go back and live my dream serving as an active duty Navy Chaplain.  I’ve gotten to serve on ship and with the Marines and EOD.  I’ve travelled the world and I’ve gone to war.  I’m not the same as I was as when I started.  I have issues, maybe even the full subscription.  I have streaks where I am hot and when I am not, I have my slumps.  I’m somewhat superstitious but I make do.  However, what drives me now is twofold; first to care for those in my ICUs, patients, families and staff.  Second to help the young guys and gals along.  I’ve been in the military since before many of them were born.  In a sense I’m a Crash Davis kind of guy.  I love the movie and the character. I hope we can all find something or someone to help connect us to what we do in life.  Somehow in Her grace the Deity allows me to find this in baseball.

Peace, Steve+

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March 28, 2009 · 20:30

Baseball Movies- Bull Durham and Carolina Baseball

With baseball season under two weeks opening night on April 5th and opening day on the 6th I am really pumped.  Today has been one of those recovery type days, a couple of busy weeks, travel and just being tired and run down,  It also rained, so there isn’t much to do.  So I put on one of my favorite baseball movies Bull Durham.

For anyone who has travelled about the south watching minor league ball or had the meandering career that I have the movie is really fun.  I’ve seen a lot of Carolina, Southern and International league games.  I probably have seen almost all of the teams in those leagues play at least once and seen a few games in the South Atlantic league as well.  There is something about minor league ball in the South.  A lot of the teams are in small and out of the way places, just like the movie, Durham now, which is in the International League is in one of the larger cities.  To get the real feel of Carolina ball one needs to go to places like Kinston and Ashville.  These are single A teams.  The Kinston Indians are the Advanced Single A affiliate of the Cleveland Indians.  They play in Grainger Stadium in Kinston just north of downtown.  The town is one that has seen better days as much of the textile industry has disappeared, but the Indians, or the K-Tribe as they are known are a great show.  The field is immaculately taken care of, the stadium has been modernized since it opened in 1949.  It seats 4100 people, tickets for reserved seats are $6, $4 if you are military or a senior citizen.  It measures 335 feet down the lines and 390 feet to dead center.  The outfield wall is interesting, on left field it is low but a series of stair steps makes it higher in right field.  I’ve been able to throw out the first pitch there twice.

Ashville is the home of the historic Ashville Tourists of the South Atlantic League.  They play in McCormick field which opened in 1923.  Though the grandstand has been rebuilt the playing field is the same as it was when it opened.  It measures 326′ down the left field line, 373′ to center and 297′ down the right field line.  This is a magical place especially at night.  The outfield backs up to a tree covered hill and home runs almost disolve into darkness.  The team is affiliated with the Colorado Rockies.  The field played host to various major league exhibition games in the 1920s and 1930s and Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig and Ty Cobb played there.  On one visit Ruth remarked “My, my, what a beautiful place to play. Delightful. Damned delightful place!” Ruth actually developed a severe stomach ailment arriving in the town in 1925 and was erroneously reported to have died by the media.  He did recover and after a long stay in the hospital started the season late.  The inicident is sometimes known as “the bellyache heard around the world.” The tie in to Bull Durham is where Kevin Costner “Crash Davis” drives up to the stadium and hits his minor league record home run before retiring from the game.

Carolina baseball is magical, it touches the soul.  The small towns, relaxed atmosphere and many times historic ball parks each having their own particular charm make it a wonderful place to fall in love with the game again.  I’ll have to take a trip to Kinston this year.  Until then I will settle down in section 102, row B seat 2 at Harbor park to cheer on my own Norfolk Tides.  God is good, and basball one of Her most wonderful gifts to us.  As George Will noted “Baseball is Heaven’s gift to mortals.” Peace, Steve+

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March 23, 2009 · 21:26

God Speaks to Me Through Baseball

I went to Harbor Park to pick up my tickets for the Baltimore Orioles and Washington Nationals exhibition game today.  For me it feels like life is returning, winter in all of its bleakness is ending and spring really is here.  The seats are great, section 102 row A, right behind home plate field level.

For me something sets baseball apart from all other sports.  I think this goes back to my childhood when my dad made me learn the fundamentals of the game and weather we were attending a game in person, watching one on television or playing catch, pepper or practicing infield or pitching dad was all about the game.  Of course he was the same way with football, hockey and basketball, but the sport that he seemed most passionate about was baseball.  As a kid he was a Cincinnati Reds fan.  His mother, my grandmother who hailed from the hollers of West Virginia was a die hard Dodgers fan.  That I still wonder about to this day, but she was the same woman who as a widow in the late 1930s went to work, raised her two boys and bought her own house.  Unlike most of the sate she was also a Republican, long before West Virginia ever voted for for either President or statewide office.  Now that I chased that rabbit down the hole back to baseball.   Granny was a Dodgers fan in a land of Reds, Indians and Pirates fans, fierce and independent but unfortunately taken in by the power of the dark side.  Yet any time you went to Granny’s house and there was a game on, the television was tuned in to it.  We were immersed in baseball.

Dad alsways made sure that we got to see baseball wherever we lived. In 1967 he took us to see the Seattle Pilots which the next year went to Milwaukee and became the Brewers.  In the elementary schools of those days our teachers who put the playoff and World’s Series games as many were played during daylight hours.  I remember watching Bob Gibson pitch when the Cardinals played against the Red Sox in the 1967 series.  It was awesome to see that man pitch.   I remember the Amazin’ Mets upsetting the Orioles in 1969 and the Orioles take down the Reds in 1970.  Who could forget the 1970 All Star Game where Pete Rose ran over Ray Fosse at home plate for the winning run and the great dynasty teams of the 1970s, especially the Reds and the Athletics who dominated much of that decade and the resurgence of the Yankees in the summer that the Bronx burned.

When were were stationed in Long Beach California dad had us at Anaheim stadium all the time.  I imagine that we attended at least 30 games there and a couple at Dodger stadium that year.  We met a lot of the players and I entered the m”My Favorite Angel” contest and my entry was a runner up, netting me two seats behind the plate and having Dick Enberg announce my name on the radio.  I wrote about Jim Spencer a Gold Glove First Baseball who later played for the Yankees.  I still have a hat from that team with numerous autographs on the inside of the bill including Sandy Alomar, Jim Spencer, Jim Fregosi, Chico Ruiz and Billy Cowan.  When we moved to northern California we got to see the A’s dynasty teams including a number of playoff games.  I got to see Ed Halicki of the Giants no-hit the Mets a Candlestick on August 24th 1975.  I got to see some of the greats of the era play, Catfish, Reggie, McCovey, Garvey, Vida Blue, Harmon Killebrew and so many others.  I also became acquainted  with Minor League Baseball at this time through the Stockton Ports, who then were the Class A California League farm team for the Orioles.  I remember a few years back talking to Paul Blair the Orioles great Paul Blair who played for the Ports in the early 1960s about Billy Hebert Field and how the sun would go down in the outfield blinding hitters and spectators in its glare.

As I have grown older my appreciate for the game, despite strikes and steroids still grows.  I am in awe of the diamond.  I have played catch on the field of dreams, seen a game in the Yankee Stadium Right Field bleachers seen games in other venues and thrown out the first pitch in a couple of minor league games.  I am enchanted with the game. The foul lines theoretical go on to infinity, only broken by the placement of the outfield wall.  Likewise unlike all other sports there is no time limit, meaning that baseball can be an eschatological game going on into eternity. The Hall of Fame is like the Calendar of Saints in the Catholic, Orthodox and Anglican Churches.  There are rituals, the exchange of batting orders and explanation of the ground rules, the ceremonial first pitch, players not stepping on the foul line when entering and leaving the field of play, no talking about it when a pitcher is throwing a no-hitter and the home run trot. The care of a field by an expert ground crew is a thing to behold, especially when they still use the wooden box frames to lay down the chalk on the baselines and the batters box.

My kitchen and much of my dining room are as close to a baseball shrine as Judy will let me make them. stevejeffbaseball

Me Twins First Baseman Rich Reese and my brother Jeff at Anaheim Stadium 1970

Since I returned from Iraq the baseball diamond is one of my few places of solace.  For the first time I bought a season ticket to my local minor league team the Norfolk Tides.  Section 102, row B seat 2.  From there I will sit back and imagine the words of James Earl Jones in Field of Dreams :
“The one constant through all the years has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It’s been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past. It reminds us of all that once was good, and what could be again.”

In a sense this says it all to me in an age of war, economic crisis and division.  In a sense it is a prayer. Peace and blessings, Steve+

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March 11, 2009 · 22:42

Baseball and Eschatology…the Cubs are the key

The Creed says that Jesus “will come again to judge the living and the dead.”  It doesn’t say how or when.  My hair brained theory says that it all comes down to baseball. My belief is that when the Chicago Cubs win the World’s Series that we’d better start looking to the East, and pronto.

I’m actually somewhat serious.  I have no emotional investment in the Cubs, I’m a San Francisco Giants fan who has a fondness for the Oakland A’s.  Willie Mays was and always will be the best baseball player who ever lived to me.  So I think that I can honestly say that I am impartial observer of this prophetic event. Last year I was actually somewhat concerned.  The Cubs were a favorite to reach the series and maybe win it. They appeared to have the best team in baseball and it was 100 years exactly since the last series that they won.  I was worried because as much as I believe that Jesus will come again, I have to confess that I’d prefer he wait until some following generation to do it.

One has to look at history and see all the disappointment that Cubs fans have suffered over the years.  Think of the times that the experts said it was the Cubs time.  Remember the playoff a few years back against the Marlins?  Up in the top of the 8th in game six and then everything fell apart shortly after the errant Cubs fan reached out and caught a foul ball that was almost in the glove of the Cub defender?  What about last year and the way the Cubs folded in the playoffs?  There has to be something to this.  It is too eerily similar to guys like Hal Lindsey and others who keep reading the headlines and predicting Jesus’ return, and when he doesn’t they have to look at the headlines again, wait for another crisis and write another book.  Those who follow them are like Cubs fans and are always disappointed when Jesus doesn’t come like their prophecy teacher said he would.

Thus, all this considered I must be right, there is a correlation between the Cubs and and eschatology.  I could be full of spit, but I think I have something here. In the W.P. Kinsella novel The Iowa Baseball Confederacy a young man ventures to the end of a rail spur and ends up transported back in time to 1908 to a place in Iowa where the Cubs were playing an exhibition against a team of local all stars.  The game took on mythic proportions, and not to spoil the book, which I highly recommend, it tells of cataclysmic and cosmological significance of the 1908 Cubs.

I’ll end here, but to those who expect the Cubs to win the World’s Series you’d better be careful what you ask for…when you are rejoicing that the Cubs finally have won, Jesus may come and spoil your parade.

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