Tag Archives: #israelbaseball

THE REVOLUTION

8 Apr

I got these 2 e-mails this week…

1) Hi,i am organizing kids baseball in katzir,i am in need of equipment,i was given nate fish’s name by a friend in columbus ohio, call me! thx chaag sameach.

2)  In 2012 our family moved from Jerusalem to a new community located on the Egyptian border. The communities of Bnei Netzarim was founded by the broken residents evacuated from their homes in Gush Katif. Over the course of 8 years they had bounced from hotels and shelters to temporary houses and finally to permanent structures… I decided to form a Baseball league to encourage and promote a healthy lifestyle for the 200 children under age 18 living in the community. To date we have bi-weekly regular practice with an average of 20 participants.

What is going on? Mutual friends in Columbus?  20 kids playing baseball twice a week on the Egyptian border?

It seems, dearest reader, we are experiencing a nasty outbreak of JEWISH BASEBALL FEVER in Israel.  Protect yourself.  Or don’t.  Contract it willingly.  But let it be known, it has spread beyond our control.  It’s a revolution.

Where others have failed, we shall succeed.

The Enlightenment, MEANINGLESS.  The Civil Rights Movement, A FAILURE.  Women’s Lib, I DON’T THINK SO, DIDN’T WORK.  The Hippies ACCOMPLISHED NOTHING.  Occupy, NOTHING.  The people are demanding a new movement.

The problem with these other so-called revolutions is that people tried “working together”.  No, no, no.  That’s not how it’s done.  The reason we’re succeeding is that I have DONE THIS ALL ALONE, with help from NO ONE.  That’s right, Ladies and Geetles, I, King of All Jewish Baseball, am responsible for all you see.

No help from Peter Kurz, President of the IAB who has volunteered for 15 years.  He is unresponsive, displays poor leadership skills, and is an overall dummy.

Not from Amit, his son, member of the Israel Senior National Team and The Tel Aviv Comrades of the Premier League, Head Coach if the Junior National Team, Running new programs in Raanana and Kibbutz Na’an, who is LAZY, and a bad coach.

Not from Dan Rothem, Vice President of the IAB, RHP, guru, member of the Israel National Team since 1986, co-founder of the Tel Aviv Comrades– dumb, lacks ability for long-term commitment.

Nor from his brother, Asaf, merely a member of the Israel Senior National Team, Coach of the Tel Aviv Comrades Juniors, Head Coach of the Jerusalem Lions of the Premier League, and selfishly calls a Major League game in Hebrew on TV every Sunday night.  He lacks understanding of basic concepts of the game.

Don’t get me started on Orr Gottlieb, their Mongoloid Cousin, who has the nerve to attend every practice and game, carrying with him, 24 hours a day, THE ANCIENT SECRET BAG OF DECENT BASEBALLS, the only, ever dwindling, bag of good baseballs we have.

Who do these people think they are?  I am the KING OF ALL JEWISH BASEBALL.  I work alone.

I have received precisely NO guidance, ideas, or support from Haim Katz, President of the IAB for 8 years, or his son, Ophir, who has taken it upon himself to single-handedly deliver baseball to Jaffa, my neighborhood.

Not from Yaron Erel, IAB treasurer, Coordinator for Tel Aviv, Team Manager for the Junior National Team– bad with money, or his son, Tal, assistant coach on the Junior National Team and 2 Tel Aviv Comrades teams, Member of the Senior National Team, Switch Hitting Catcher– immature, severe developmental, attitude, and behavioral problems.

These people are only getting in my way.

I have not heard from Howie Osterer in Jerusalem in months!  He is not working on baseball enough.  WE DEMAND TOTAL SACRIFICE, Osterer.  As a matter of fact, and hear this, all regional directors are doing a POOR JOB, and are ALL on thin ice as far as I am concerned!!!

I get nothing from Margo Sugarman, Secretary General of the IAB, Chairman of the Communications and Branding Committee, Coordinator in Tel Mond, Team Manager of the U16 National Team, IAB kosher chef.  She lacks basic communication skills, has no vision for the organization, and is a bad cook.

The man you know well, Neon Leon Klarfeld, Chief Umpire, Tournament and Camp Director– inexperienced, no sense of humor.

Not Nathan Pomerantz, Chairman of the Rules, Scholarship, and Sportsmanship Committee, Director in Rehovot, schedule maker for the minors and juveniles age divisions– inconsiderate, loud, mean, crazy.

Do you know who hasn’t helped?  Jordy Alter, commissioner of the Premier League, Coach in the Bet Shemesh for nearly a decade, equipment mule, member of the executive committee– backhanding, dishonest, swindling, looks like a rabbit.

Which reminds me, the rest of the committee and board members, you are useless, and I would like nothing more than to replace you all.  You make me sick.

Lee Siegel, IAB equipment manager, coordinator and MAINTAINER OF THE GREAT FIELD OF JEWISH BASEBALL at Kibbutz Gezer, DOES NOTHING, doesn’t know how to count, and is generally not to be trusted.

Louis Miller, Head Coach of the U12 National Team, Commissioner of the Cadet League, is an ego maniac and a convict.

The worst of the bunch may be Ira Moskowitz, Head Coach of the U16 National Team, the Modiin Miracles Juniors, and player/coach on Modiin’s Premier League team.  I am almost sure he is hiding in Israel after committing crimes against humanity in Southeast Asia in the 80’s.

I could, as you know, go on.  But let me just say, coaches, parents, umps, directors, players…  YOU’RE MY HEROS.  This is your revolution.  So come, go, stand, sit, rise and walk, get on board, NOW, be a part of it, be our 1,000 “like” on Facebook… https://www.facebook.com/pages/IAB-Israel-Association-of-Baseball/82515064247 and join the Israel Baseball Revolution.

 

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MY PARENTS

29 Mar

My parents were in town for two weeks, living with me.  Anyone can love their family when they’re 7,ooo miles away.  But would I still like them when they were asleep downstairs, in the same room, puffy eyed sharing coffee in the morning?  So we put our relationship to the test.  My folks moved in.

If you remember, faithful reader, and I am sure you do, from a blog post not-so-long-ago, about my apartment, it is not an apartment at all.  It is a store, on the ground-level, with a giant sliding door that opens directly to the busy street, turned art studio, turned home.  By now, after 6 months here, it is livable, for me, at least, there is a kitchen, a couch, even a closet, but it is still not up to code for 2 aging, if youthful, Jews.

My father is 77 years old, from the Bronx.  My mom is 12 years his junior, from Boston, Massachusetts.  They have traveled, and moved, a lot, and said they were willing to try living on the pullout if I was willing to let them.

Of course I was!  These were the people who, however disgustingly, made love to create me, who raised me, paid for everything I ate, I wore, I did, or I wanted, for 18 years– and more, honestly, of my life.  How could I say no?  But, I thought, after this, we’re even.

I picked them up at the airport, and we headed home, together.  I had cleaned up as much as possible, but there’s only so much you can do in a place where pieces of the ceiling fall every day.  But, they said, after inspecting the sink and shower and fridge, they liked it.  They could do it.

But could I?

They got comfortable.  The mess spread from the living room into the studio.  There were towels draped over the backs of chairs, plastic bags of change and half-eaten sandwiches everywhere, in just a few days, we had gone through almost 6 months of toilet paper.  What the hell was going on?  Were they running a spa?  Were they collecting donations for Sudanese refugees?  Were they making stuff out of toilet paper? – Were they actually wearing toilet paper under their clothes, like mummies, for some kind of temperature control?  Is this what being old is like?  My art studio had been turned into a durational conceptual performance installation I could never think of alone, THIS IS WHAT YOUR APARTMENT LOOKS LIKE WHEN YOUR PARENTS MOVE IN.

And so much cheese.  I am not sure where the cheese was coming from.  They constantly discussed, monitored, and replenished the cheese supply.  In retirement, cheese has become their full-time job.  They find comfort in it.  As long as there there is cheese, nothing can go wrong.

Exhibit A

Exhibit A

 

But I stayed cool.  These are, after all, my parents. I am them, and they are me.  Their DNA, and some star dust, of course, is responsible for brining the KING OF ALL JEWISH BASEBALL into this world.  The least I could do is calmly eat cheese and wait to reclaim my life.

So, patiently, each night, I snuck into my own apartment, slowly sliding the front door open and closed, tip-toeing past their bed, brushing my teeth on the dark, and going upstairs to live silently, like Anne Frank, in my last waking hours of the day so not to disturb them.

And now, they’re gone.  And I  miss them, can’t live without them.  I forgot how to be myself.  You must excuse me, I am going to cut this blog post short, I am going to the store, I need cheese…

FIsh Family. Representing Team Israel for life.

My parents

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THE C POOL

27 Feb

I must apologize, dear reader, again, for not writing lately.  I know you wake each morning, in a panic, and stumble from bed, naked, drunk, to read a new blog post.  And most mornings, I fail you, I am not there, my absence rushes in.  You swipe at the emptiness in front of you, gasping for breathe, wondering, where is he, WHERE? –  With goats?  Yes.  The elderly?  Yes, usually.  But this time, I was in the Dark and Magical Land of Prague, home to the worlds largest community of Orthodox Vampires.  You see, it was time for the 2014 Confederation of European Baseball Annual Congress.  All the Kings and Queens of European Baseball united in one place, battling for baseball supremacy of the continent.  Power.  Politics.  We had important issues to vote on, decisions to make, chicken or fish, where will next year’s Congress be held.   I am glad to report I survived the glare of a thousand gargoyles and made it through the meetings so that today, I do not fail you, today, I deliver, today, I write.  Using only the experimental technology known as words, and youtube,  of course, Ladies and Geetles, I humbly, dutifully present to you another blog post, on this, the Most Important Blog of All Time.

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2014 CEB Congress

In Prague, we met our opponents for upcoming competitions.  This summer, this July, to be specific, we, THE ISRAEL NATIONAL TEAM, will play in the European Championships “C Pool” in Ljubljana, Slovenia.  A total of 8 teams will compete. 2 of the 8 teams will move up to play in next summers “B Pool”, and the winner of the B Pool will play with the Best in Europe in the 2016 A Pool.   The other teams in the C Pool are; Latvia, Romania, Noway, Finland, Ireland, Hungary, and, of course, our hosts, Slovenia.  Being the KING OF ALL JEWISH BASEBALL, and leader of the Most Powerful Baseball Organization in the World, the Israel Association of Baseball, I thought I should do some research.  Here is what I found.  Enjoy.  A look into our world, the world of international baseball.

Enjoy a well played game in Latvia to the soft sounds of Metallica.

Moving on, a video from Baseball in Romania’s Facebook Page.  These teams love metal.

Romania

Norway’s Opening of their Baseball Hall of Fame.

Finland’s own version of baseball.  What is this!!!  The best head-first slides I have ever seen, and there are 20,000 fans.  Horrifying.

A well-done story about baseball in Ireland…

Baseball in Hungary – nice little ballpark.

A single pitch is thrown in Slovenia, the pitch heard ’round the world as it’s come to be known, a come-backer, out at 1st.  Base runner at 1st not sure what to do…

So it appears we will be competing against Romanian Metal Heads, Hungarian Missionaries, and some of the Greatest Athletes in Finland playing a sport called baseball that is not baseball.  Winner takes all.  In defense of the other teams, we do not have even as robust an internet presence as they, that is, besides my instructional videos, which are admittedly cardboard boxes of videography.  And in the end, they are not “the other teams” at all.  As the saying goes, all is fair in love and international baseball.  We are one team, playing the same game, fighting the same bizarre battles in Norway, or Portugal, or Israel, one tribe of weirdos, baseball players, spread out over Europe, the diaspora, to be reunited for a brief moment this summer for the Greatest, Bloodiest Battle of Them All, The European Championship C Pool.  See you in Ljubjana.

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THE UMPS

1 Feb

Israel Baseball is growing like Sea Monkeys.  But with more players, teams, and games, you need more umps.  So, 3 weeks ago, we began the official Israel Association of Baseball Umpires Course.  Every Monday night, at Baptist Village, 6 of us gather, the SOON TO BE ANOINTED NEW UMPS OF THE IAB.  The course is lead by none other than, that’s right, faithful reader, you guessed it, Neon Leon Klarfeld aka The Overseer and Protector of All Jewish Safety, Wellbeing, and Barbecues aka Jewish Santa Clause aka Jewish Wizard of Oz, and also, Chief Umpire in Israel.

Neon Leon teaching us in the classroom.

Neon Leon teaches us in the classroom.

Umpires are historically in a category of humanity– nay, sub-humanity, all to themselves.  Who is willing to put up with it all? – The long games? – The abuse?  At best, an ump is invisible.  At worst he is a demon, an idiot, blind, drunk, stoned, taking bribes, favoring the home team, a clown, “horse shit”.  There is no glory.

Anyone available to officiate a youth baseball game on a Friday afternoon holds a certain station in life – broke, unshaven, recently divorced, balancing clumsily on one leg, changing into uniform in the parking lot, hiding behind the open trunk of a ’74 Impala in lose, dirty tighty-whiteys.  Limping slowly to the field, 5 minutes late, feeling around in their pockets for game balls.  What saint can handle all this?  And know the rules?

The love.  The tenderness.  The tears of the ump.

No one knows.

As a player, I have been taught systemic hatred of umps.  They only mess the game up.  Get rid of them.  Replace them with computers, anything is better than this weirdo.  But no– now I am, or will be, one of the weirdos too.  Things have changed.

You still think it’s funny, easy?  I invite you, Dearest Idiot, to see if you have what it takes to know the most, and receive the least, study the rules, and still be called a moron, to eat the shite of the world, and stand strong, stoic, arms crossed, confused, scared, facing scruffy coaches and players, in short, to be an ump.  I present to you, Ladies and Geetles, one question from one homework assignments.  Keep in mind, these scenarios are endless.  Good luck…

  1.  With a runner on first, batter hits a line drive up the middle which deflects off the pitcher’s glove, hits the field umpire and is subsequently caught by the second baseman.  R1 thinking it a catch tries to make it back to first base.  The second baseman, thinking it a catch, throws to first for the “double play”  and the ball arrives at first before either the batter or R1 get to the base.  The first baseman tags the base.  Place the runners.

Whats that? – You have no idea? – Your head hurts?  Yeah, that’s what I thought, you DO NOT have what it takes.  So allow me, King of Jewish Baseball, certified ump, to explain.

The hitter is out at 1st base.  The runner going back to 1st base is safe and remains at 1st base.  The ball hitting the ump was the equivalent to the ball hitting the ground, so it is not a catch.  The force is off once the out on the batter/baserunner is recorded at first, and the runner from 1st, R1, as he is known, is allowed to return to the base.  If the ball had just hit the pitcher, and then the 2nd baseman caught it, it would be a double play, batter-baserunner would have been out on the catch, and R1 would be out with ball arriving to 1st base before him.  But no! Because it hit the ump, no double play, runner on 1st, 1 out.

Now, get out of my face, return to your dugout, place your whole ass on a bench, and make sure next time you come out here, you know what in the hell you are talking about.  Do you hear me?  As a matter of fact, did he go, yes he did, strike three, you’re out, game over, you’re ejected, lifetime ban.

It is not easy, this ump life, the studying, the ridicule.  But we carry on anyhow.  After all, no umps, no game.  We make things official.  We are the judges, upholders and keepers of the rulebook, THE GREAT BLIND AND DRUNKEN GODS OF BASEBALL, and in the end, you will submit to our will.

An angel.

The future umps of the IAB.

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JEWPANESE

22 Dec

I have refrained, most honorably, may I add, from writing about Youk on this, the greatest blog of all time.  But with news of him signing in Japan for the 2014 season (http://www.nydailynews.com/sports/baseball/youkilis-leaving-mlb-play-japan-article-1.1554521), I must speak up.  Youk, you have been stealing what is rightfully mine for too long.  And now you want to go international too!

Imagine, if you can, Ladies and Geetles, dearest, faithful reader, a young KOJB, my first Big League game, Fenway Park, Red Sox vs. Athletics, bleacher seats, right field.  I was not prepared for the size of the field, the brightness, the green, the brown, the crisp white uniforms, Henderson, Canseco…  The game was tied 1-1 going into the bottom of the 9th.  Tom Brunansky hit a solo walk off home run on the first pitch over the left field fence, the Green Monster. I made up my mind, one day I would be the 3rd baseman for the Boston Red Sox.

Fast forward.  I am on the fast track to Fenway.  I’ve been invited to visit the University of Cincinnati, they can’t resist me, want to see if they can tame the wild young stallion, harness the power.  Watching practice, the 3rd baseman is fat and slow.  He has a funny name no one can pronounce and no one will ever know anyways, unlike my name, which everyone will know, he is nobody, and I am the future starting 3rd baseman for the Red Sox.

My first day of practice, we are hitting partners.  He is funny.  And he has a weird batting stance.  He definitely is no good.  We’re both Jewish.  Brothers!  From then on, we hit together at practice, and throw together before games.

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Youk in college.

Fast forward.  2004.  I am sitting at a bar in New York City watching Youk win his first World Series with the Red Sox, the first Red Sox Championship in 86 years, the curse of the Bambino, broken, the comeback against the Yankees after being down 3 games to none, first time ever.

How could this happen?  Betrayal.  It was supposed to be me!  I never even started at 3rd base in college, except when Youk moved to short stop for half a season, instead being banished to catcher, tortured behind the plate. I thought we were friends, bro.  We had a seder together!

Youk went on to win 2 championships in Boston, 3 time all-star, Hank Aaron award-winner, gold glover, finished top 5 in MVP voting multiple times, set the record for errorless games for a 1st baseman, and, eventually, moved to 3rd base, the final dagger in my back, my rightful position.

So I found new turf.  Went out into the world, into the frontier, the unknown, international baseball.  I played in the Israel Baseball League, and in Germany the next year.  I went to the Dominican and Puerto Rico.  I was slowly becoming an expert on international baseball, the King of All Jewish Baseball.

Now, after all these years, Youkilis wants to swim out into open water, too, leave his comfortable little bubble, the so called “Major Leagues”.  Well, bring it on, bro.  This is my domain.  You have no idea what awaits you, the harsh reality of non-America, the language barrier, monopoly money.  You think the Tokyo Dome is nice? – Think again.  The place is a dump.  If you needed a contract to play international baseball, you could have just asked.  The Tel Aviv Comrades were prepared to make you the generous offer of 350 shekels a week.  But suit yourself.  If you want to play in a lesser league where not everyone on the field is Jewish, go right ahead.  Let’s see if you can handle it…

Youk, you are good, and you are brave, and we are rootin’ for you more than you know.

Prepare yourself, Japan– World, a big bright Jewpanese Star is coming, Ichiro, Matsui, Daisuke, all in one, and his name… is YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUK.

Go Golden Eagles.

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Young KOJB and Young Youk before a game at Duke.

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THE STORM

15 Dec

Is it safe to come out?  I have been inside for a week.  Everyone has. It’s been raining, hailing, and snowing, for 40 days and 40 nights.  The worst storm in the history of Israel.  Jerusalem got 24 inches of snow.  All baseball activities canceled.  Our fields are under water, or ice.

Hombo Field at Kibbutz Gezer

Hombo Field at Kibbutz Gezer

There is only one explanation for these extreme weather conditions.  No, dear reader, faithful peasant, it is not what you’re thinking, clearly, it is not god’s punishment for reality TV, or so called “global warming”, no no no, it was me moving to Israel.  Earth was not prepared for the energetic shift from West to East, and it threw our planet off its axis.  Wind patterns changed, oceanic currents reversed, flowers sprouted on moon glaciers, continental plates liquified, birds flew confused overhead, crashing into one another, falling into lakes of bubbling sulfur.

I am sorry.

But, now, finally, the miracle of the universe is alive around us, and in us.  The Earth rights itself.  The sun is out, burning our dilated eyes as we emerge like zombies from solitary confinement, tortured, crazed, skinny, hands outstretched, blocking the light, feeling for sharp objects, hiding our unshaven faces and sunken cheeks.

Jerusalem will thaw.  The fields will dry out.  And, soon, here, and all around the world, it will be time to play ball.  And we will be new again.

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SCIENCE FRICTION

20 Nov

We started our Strength and Conditioning Program this week.  I am in pain.  Every day at 7am, THE GREAT AND NUMEROUS MEMBERS OF THE ISRAEL NATIONAL TEAM unite at CrossFit Tel Aviv (http://crossfittelaviv.com/) and become one unstoppable and exhausted force of supernature.  CrossFit is the Scientology of exercise, it is its own world, with its own language.  This week alone, we have done 1.3 million neuro quad boosters, 400,000 lateral quazi skeletal laser thrusts, 4 galactic squat break downs in dual orbital sets, a one legged space-time hold, and infinite explosive negative zero cleans.  My time on the 93 million mile velocity techno moonbeam circuit is already down to .00000066565655522111 nano light years.   And so we have officially begun, the Israel Senior National Team, between our regular practices and training, our collective push to win the European Championships this summer, to ultimate victory, to once and for all extinguish the flame of desire that burns in each of us.

Orr Gottlieb, aka Israeli Babe Ruth, demonstrates perfect form on his poly quasar squats.

Orr Gottlieb, Israeli Babe Ruth, demonstrates perfect form on his poly quasar squat thruster dianetic boosters.

When you think of me, dear reader, which is often, I know, late at night, sleepless, looking into the darkness, you think of of me as a genius warrior-poet, the greatest exaggerator of all time, perhaps, or the most important conceptual artist/novelist/dancer of the 21st century, or, maybe now, as the Cross Fit Middle East Regional Champion, but forget not, I am also a REAL BASEBALL PLAYER.  So, to prove it, I leave you with this piece of moving picture and sound from THE VERY FANTASTIC ISRAEL BASEBALL INSTRUCTIONAL VIDEO SERIES OF THE NEW ISRAEL BASEBALL YOUTUBE CHANNEL, magically created using only a single white dove, and a video camera, of course, and a lifetime of carefully crafted knowledge, with the overall production quality of a local access cooking show.

Here it is…

—-

Oh, almost forgot, the GREATEST HOUR OF RADIO EVER RECORDED…

http://tlv1.fm/episodes/2013/11/17/rogel-alpher-with-nate-fish-journeys/

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BRAD

4 Nov

Big news…

Brad Ausmus, our manager from last year’s World Baseball Classic Team Israel, has been hired to manage the Tigers.   I can see only one reason this happened considering he is TOTALLY UNQUALIFIED to manage a Major League Baseball team.  He only caught 18 years in the Major Leagues, played the most games ever of any Jewish Major Leaguer, has a degree from Dartmouth, and was trusted enough to be given control of the Los Angeles Dodgers, for one day, the last day of his playing career, by some guy named Joe Torre.  The only explanation as to why the Detroit Tigers have hired him to manage… is…. clearly…. that…. Brad Ausmus is trying to take my title as King of All Jewish Baseball.  There, I said it.

So let me take this momentous occasion, as we are gathered, here, on this internet, Ladies and Geetles alike, to say, IT AIN’T HAPPENIN’ , Brad, if that is your real name.  I see what you’re doing, and I don’t like it, not one bit.  I will not be dethroned.  You’re always saying, “Fish, you’re the best player I have ever played with”, “Fish, you’re such a good writer”, “Fish, I wanna be like you”, “Fish…”– yeah, yeah, yeah.  You know what, Brad, sssssssshhhhhhhhhhhh.  I see now, you were just softening me up to eat me.  All part of your sick plan.  Hear this, I, and only I, am the King of Jewish Baseball.  I will ride through Detroit on horseback, lead by my torch and mediocre sense of direction, searching each of the plentiful deserted corners and abandoned houses of that sickly midwestern city until I find you, cowering in a corner of a boarded up methadone clinic, with Miguel Cabrera, pleading for mercy.  Which brings me to Detroit.  Do not think, Detroit, you are not going to be held responsible for this, contempt, conspiracy.  That is right, Brad Ausmus and the City of Detroit are trying to oust me from power.  But I see you, Brad, Detroit, I see everything.  I should have cut your head off with the sword I wear down the left inseam of my uniform when I had the chance…

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I could have cut your head off here

Brad Ausmus, from Israel Baseball and the Kingdom of Jewish Baseball,  Congrats– nay, Mazal Tov!  Oh– and I expect a job, bench coach sounds good.  Lamont is totally lost out there, no idea what he’s doing.

And I shall leave you with this, as if the humiliation has not been enough, a short film about Brad by Team Israel teammate and fellow creator of Genius Jewish Baseball Media, Triple-A Padres Superstar, the Anti Hero, Cody Decker…

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THE PREMIER LEAGUE

20 Oct

Just got back from a workout.  I don’t know why, after all these years, I am still doing it. The insanity of athletics is doing the same thing over and over as if it was the first time, with the same excitement, more, even, to jump hurdles, every day, or take a thousand ground balls, or run sprints on the beach, in the dark, alone.

We started our season, all of us, here in Israel, the kids, and the Old Guys like me.  I will tell you all about the kids’ teams, as, by now, faithful reader, you must know, but, for now, I will tell you about our adult league in Israel, the Premier League.

There are 4 teams in the PL; The Raanana Raiders, The Modiin Miracles, The Tel Aviv Comrades, and the Jerusalem Lions.  I am on the Lions.  We are 2, 2, and 1, so far, according to our website (www.baseball.org.il), with 2 forfeits, not having the required 8 player minimum.  A few days ago, in my second PL game, we played Raanana.  We won 8-5.  We had 8 guys, played with 2 outfielders, left-center, and right-center, but still managed a win.

The atmosphere was electric, let me tell you.  There was even a fan, the shadow of a fan, at least, in the dark, behind the backstop, watching, quietly.  You could hear the insects around our field like the faint echo of Major League playoff crowds 7,000 miles away, a total of 18 of us between the two teams, 21 counting the fan and 2 umps, some of us not even in uniform, under the lights, at Baptist Village, an orphanage turned baseball field that I also still have to tell you about, and shoot video of.

I am not sure why or what I am writing, exactly.  I suppose I just wanted to reassure you, as I know how it effects your sense of All That Is Right, I am still practicing, and still playing.  I might even still be getting better.  But probably not.

I must apologize for not having any magical images, moving or not, to accompany this post, only these words, this time, sitting at my desk, looking down at the hole I have worn in my sock.  Wait…

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SUCCOT

26 Sep

It is that magical time of year again, Succot, the GREAT CELEBRATION OF TREES TO BE TURNED INTO WOODEN BATS, when we construct batting cages to sleep in for 8 days and 8 nights.

In Israel, I have learned, to commemorate our great history, for one full month each year, NO ONE DOES ANYTHING.  No one works.  There is no school.  No one answers their phones.  And this year, that month was September.

What little American remains in me cannot accept simply doing nothing for an entire month, for we are machines, rugged individuals, each of us a factory, industrialists, existing on sheer will, brut force, and reality TV.  So I went to the wise sage Neon Leon Klarfeld, King of All Jewish Safety, Wellbeing, and Barbecues, and we devised a master plan, over chicken wings and ginger ale, of course.  We discussed creation, how to make somethingness in this extended period of nothingness.  We activated the QUITE POWERFUL BEAM OF LIGHT, the KOJB signal, if you will, and gathered our staff of coaches.  We packed our cars with bags of squishy baseballs, batting tees, home plates, baseball cards, foam bats, and flyers, and headed out into the brutal countryside to deliver nourishment like mana to the baseball starved youth of Israel for the 1st Annual Succot Baseball Clinics- a couple of regular Jewish Baseball Santa Clauses.

the KOJB mobile

the KOJB mobile

We went to 4 locations in 4 days; Jerusalem, Raanana, Kibbutz Gezer, and Tel Aviv.  We practiced together under the hot sun, Leon and I meeting early each morning, him limping, stiff from the day before, making us Turkish coffee on his portable propane stove, me pulling the car up as close as possible to unload, paperwork, schedule, set-up, here come the kids.  Each place we visited, a small green-blue-orange baseball flame was ignited, sure to become a raging bonfire of light by Hanukah, 150 kids in 4 days, the spirit of the game, so many high-fives.

Jerusalem

Jerusalem

David Schenker, the Toughest Man in Jewish Baseball (http://kingofjewishbaseball.com/2013/07/09/david/), teaches proper ground ball technique.

David Schenker, the Toughest Man in Jewish Baseball (http://kingofjewishbaseball.com/2013/07/09/david/), teaches proper ground ball technique.

Raanana

Raanana

Kibbutz Gezer

Kibbutz Gezer

Nate Fish, King of Jewish Baseball, talking to the kids early one Succot morning.

Nate Fish, King of Jewish Baseball, talks to the kids early one Succot morning.

Today is the final day of Succot, and the final day of the holidays. Tomorrow, Friday, people will be returning to school and work for a grueling half-day, it is, after all, a holiday, again, a time to relax, the Sabbath.

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Thank you to all the coaches who came out to help.  We’re doing it.

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