Defenders-- week 2

Well, after that first day, I had two unofficial practices with just a couple of the team leaders to try and set the tone for the year. I had Anthony, Jeremy and Kenny show up. Kenny is going to be our catcher this year in an attempt to keep him focused on the game. He loves second base but kinda drifts out there at times. His first game ever I had to call a timeout to go and explain to him that he wasn't supposed to be joining the opposing dugout in their chant against our pitcher. He progressed to where he merely would drift towards second in an effort to "keep the runner on the bag, coach" in a no-leads off the base league. Kenny will probably lead our team in hits and steals.

Anthony is our best catcher, but he hates to catch (he is bright as well) and is by far our best returning pitcher. Oh, and he is also our best shortstop. Anthony loves to razz me about how much the Pirates suck (he is a Yankee fan) and he is too young to be affected by the one word that shudders all Yankee fans, "mazeroski". Two years ago the pirates and yankees were playing a 3 game series and the bucs were playing their best ball of the year. Anthony brazenly vowed the yanks would smack the pirates and I told him that my team would take it to his. We bet a milkshake on whoever lost 2 out of 3. yankees swept the bucs, and when he demanded payment I told him the bet was yanks would win 2 of 3, not 3 of 3. He didn't buy my argument but I bought him the milkshake anyway,just to hush him so he wouldn't tell his mom I was gambling with him. He was only 11 and a boy should really be 12 before he begins wanton gambling practices.  ; Anthony brought up the fact that the yanks and bucs meet again this year and has offered a similar wager. I think he found out my nickname at work was 'free lunch' for my amazing consistency at losing braggadaccio wagers.

Jeremy is our firstbaseman. I used to call him 'diamond boy' (not to his face) because he was so scared in the batters box that if you stuck a lump of coal in his butt it would be a diamond after 1 at-bat. For 2 years he struck out or walked--never even a foul tip, and his fielding was worse. As he says himself, "I sucked." But he stuck with it and started to hit some shots last year and actually caught a ball without flinching. He grew and is now about 5' 10", lefty, so I will try and pitch him some this year. He will never miss a practice or game. Has a great attitude and I authorized him to thump Kenny anytime he wants if Kenny is acting out of line.

So we practiced throws from catcher to first, catcher to second etc. and kept having meetings to discuss strategy and the like. As I was discussing their leadership skills on one meeting at the mound, Kenny's head drifted and followed a woman walking down the street. "whoa, coach, did you see that?" This was his third drift in 90 seconds. I pointed out that he needed to quit being distracted and focus on the game when he was playing. blah blah blah. As soon as we started hitting to the infield he got nailed once in the foot and once in the butt because he kept turning to watch women (not girls) walk by. I will be putting blinders on the catcher's helmet for him.

This week was when Red Hook baseball got into full swing. We had our first muddy field practice with two lakes at short and second, we had our first fighting for an open field battle (won handily by our squad--we intimidated the hell out of a bunch of 7-year-old after-school kids) and we had our first unsolicited advice on baseball instruction by a junkie/drunk of the season. A common practice occurrence is hearing a, usually, gruff, somewhat dunk/methadoned/heroined out guy grunting advice on my pitcher/catcher/outfield positioning. Instead of arguing with them, I say thanks and invite them to come out and coach. The longest one has ever stayed after my offer is 12 minutes, and that was because he passed out against the backstop for 9 of them and took another 2 and a half to remember where he was when he woke up.

Clayvon appeared at his first practice with a broom and dustpan in slippers. It was too comical to even laugh. Tytee and Taylor were there and just gave him a look--boy I feel sorry for their future boyfriends and husbands because Clayvon cracked like a egg just on their look. turns out he wasn't allowed at practice until he finished his chores, one of which is to sweep up in front of the church. He asked if he should go do that or just practice. Unwilling to tangle with a mom who is bad-ass enough to make her son stroll through the 'hood with a broom and dustpan in slippers, I told him to do his chores. Working on hitting the cut-off could wait.

And to leave you all on a heartwarming note, we were having batting practice a couple of days ago when about 3-4 kids from other teams climbed the backstop to jeer and shout insults at the kids as they took their swings. I figured it was good training for them for the season and wasn't going to interfere, but after a few pitches, my mature, adult side took over for a minute and I yelled up to the most brazen of them (name withheld because the commissioner reads these updates), "j---, you know I have to do the adult thing here and tell you you have to get off the backstop." he yelled back in his pipsqueak voice, "I know, but don't worry, if anyone says anything, I'll just tell them I told you to f*#* off." Makes you feel warm all over seeing how he was looking out for me.

Uniform day this saturday and final rosters--so as always, updates to follow.