Swing Batter, Batter, Swing!

Part 2: Put me in Coach, I'm Ready to Play, Today...

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I met with Coach about when to start varsity baseball practice. He said the MIAA had rules and specific dates for when organized practice could begin. But he added that traditionally, there are "Captain's Practices" run by the captains that are completely legal. He said that because I was an unpaid assistant, I could be at those practices as long as I wasn't organizing and running them. Coach cautioned, "Be careful because you never know who could show up… "

I went to the practices, observed, and only occasionally made suggestions but was careful not to look like I was running a formal practice. Of course, I reported back to Coach and told him my thoughts about the players. Occasionally, Coach would walk the perimeters of the field, watch a bit, and then leave. The kids knew he wasn't allowed to be at Captain's Practices, but they all acknowledged his presence…

I was excited to be the school's hitting instructor and assistant varsity coach, especially for this team, which looked solid and ready to compete. As a plumbing instructor, I met a lot of the kids working in the new Superintendent's building, which was under construction and being built, wired, and plumbed by the students. It was the reason I was hired. The Superintendent added me as the third plumbing instructor so I could work with students on construction projects both on the school grounds and off. The building's construction had floundered and was behind schedule and my job was to fix the mistakes, and there were many, and complete the project by the end of the school year. In addition to the plumbing, I was responsible for the sprinkler system and a portion of the hot water heat.

In my opinion, John, the quarterback of the Super Bowl team, was the best baseball player on this team. He was a natural. He could run, hit, hit with power, field, and throw—a true five-tool player.  He was also our best left-handed pitcher. He was emotional but not flippant, a great kid who led by example, and, having just won the Super Bowl, he had the respect of the entire team.

Alejandro was our shortstop, and he had the best glove on the field and a strong throwing arm to go with it. He got to balls other kids couldn't and made perfect throws from deep in the hole. He toed the rubber, too, and he threw strikes when he did. For a skinny kid, he hit with surprising power. As much as I liked John, Alejandro was the most passionate kid on the team about baseball and quickly became my favorite. He was only a junior…

Newk was our catcher. He was a big dude with a big personality, exactly what you want in a catcher. He was solid behind the plate and could hit with power, too. He was the "Gronk" on this team…

Stags was our big first baseman. His career goal was to become an engineer and design and build high-performance engines. Around the bag, he was solid, scooping balls out of the dirt and making big plays on anything hit near him. He was a pure power hitter and batted cleanup. He could drive the ball to all fields and was an RBI machine.

Jared (aka Potatah) was a skinny sophomore with glove and bat skills. I was immediately impressed by this kid. He was a baseball player and a chatterbox, which is good to have on any team. He was a natural middle infielder, but those spots were already filled. 

There were three plumbers on the team: Ryan, Fooch, and Gada. 

Ryan was a third-baseman. In the shop, he was known as the laziest kid; he did practically nothing the entire school year, but he had a good glove at third. He didn't miss anything hit at him, but because of his size, he was a big kid, he didn't move well on balls that were hit down the line or in the hole, and I could tell right away that might become a problem. Throw in a lot of swings and misses, and although I wanted him to work out, I wasn't sure he would last at third base…

Fooch was a left-fielder prone to misjudging fly balls. Fortunately, he was an athlete and could adjust to his missteps. Because of his speed, he could usually get to the ball. His bat was serviceable.

Gada was a pitcher and second baseman. He was quiet in the shop, even a bit timid. Early on, just days after I began teaching, he was in the dirt basement of the shop where kids learned how to do underground piping, smoke cigars, and wrestle when I heard one kid calling him a "Kike", even though Gada wasn't Jewish. I immediately ran down to break it up. The kid doing the name-calling was a football player, a big lineman, a bully, and an anti-Semite. I didn't react like a teacher; I reacted like a crazy Jewish plumber, and after I broke it up, I took the kid aside and let him have it. I used f-bombs, all while my jugular was throbbing its way out of my neck, pumping blood to my twisted brain and fueling my uncontrollable rage. I scared the crap out of this kid, as he would confess years later. I probably could've been fired. The kid apologized to Gada and me and swore he'd never use that word again. After the incident, I stopped acting like a crazy plumber and more like a well-behaved plumbing instructor. (yeah, right)

Gada had several pitches in his arsenal. He threw a nasty curveball and circle change, which made his fastball sneaky. He had solid control and could paint the corners. When he wasn't pitching, he was a serviceable second baseman with a very weak bat.

Gada's father didn't work at the school but was an unpaid assistant and third base coach, which initially made me uncomfortable. However, the kids liked him; he loved baseball, and there were never any problems with favoritism. He was tall and lanky, always needed a shave, and wore an old pair of work boots to the field, even when he was in shorts. What's not to like? 

Mike was coming off scoring a touchdown in the Super Bowl, and he came to Captain's Practice ready to play baseball. He was electric on the bases, and the jump he got on fly balls hit anywhere near center field was insane. He had a great glove and solid arm, but his horrible hitting mechanics resulted in a weak bat. I was confident I could work with him and fix that. He assured me he would listen and do everything I said to improve his hitting. I believed him. Even with a weak bat, he was my starting center fielder…

It was 2006, and it had been a little over a year since I had been wrongly accused of "embezzling funds" from the Norton Summer League. My wife and I proved the accusation false after providing town officials with bank records and receipts.

So, it was nice to be part of a team again…

Swing batter, batter, swing, batter, batter, swing, batter, batter swing… Swing batter, batter, swing, batter, batter, swing, batter, batter swing… (With enough cold beer, I could sing this all night!)

To be continued…

*All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental…