Archive by Author

TEAM JEW.S.A.

31 Jul

Do not be alarmed!  It is I, the King of All Jewish Baseball, only with a new header photo.  And that is just the beginning, a sample if you will, from the upcoming photo series and film, The King of Jewish Baseball, by Danny Dwyer, himself the King of All Slovenian/Irish Filmmaking.  Here is the full image…

magical, isn’t it?

I apologize for the delay since my last post.  It’s been 5, almost 6, days.  But I am preparing something very special for you, The Greatest Ejection of All Time! – From Saturdays’s game with the A’s in the Zorrilla.  It’s not quite ready.  So we will proceed…

There was an article about Shlomo in the Wall Street Journal yesterday!  Check it out.  Bandito!

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10000872396390444226904577557233510814236.html

It’s Tuesday, July 31st.  I am going to LA tomorrow.  As King of All Jewish Baseball, I was the logical choice for head coach of the Junior National Team for the 2013 Maccabi Games, and we have our West Coast tryouts on Sunday.  We have three tryouts– LA, Chicago, and New York, all in August (the 5th, the 19th, and the 26th respectively). We’ll name the team in September.  The Games are in Israel July of 2013.

The Juniors baseball team is theoretically comprised of the best Jewish baseball players in the country 18 years-old or younger.  There have been some good players and coaches in the past.  Max Fried who played on the team last time around, 4 years-ago, in 2009, was just selected 7th overall in this year’s draft.  Our team should win the gold medal, another demonstration on the workings of global baseball.  Like our team for the WBC, we have access to a better pool of players.  I hope.  We’ll see Sunday.  The difference is these kids will be Americans representing America in Israel, not Americans representing Israel in America.

I’ll see Matt in LA.  Matt and I spent our formative years together playing ball and rapping our hearts out to Biggie Smalls and Dr. Dre and the Wu-Tang Clan in Shaker Heights, Ohio where we’re from.  When we were 16, at a tournament in Kentucky, Matt struck a guy out on a 3-2 bases loaded curveball and I thought right then that he would be a major league baseball player.  And he is!

matt guerrier, and my mom and dad, at a dodger game earlier this year!

California, America, prepare yourselfs!  KOJB is coming.

THE PEDRIN ZORRILLA SEMI-PROFESSIONAL BASEBALL LEAGUE

25 Jul

The day is Wednesday, July 25th.  It is 5:03 pm East Coast Standard Time.  46 days until camp.  56 until the tournament.  My name is the King of All Jewish Baseball, prepare to die.

I trained yesterday in Maria Hernandez and at Richies, and today in Central Park.

6 games in the next four days, again.  Thursday (tomorrow), Friday, and Sunday with the Thunder Dogs.  And Saturday double-dip with the A’s.

I did some research on the Zorrilla, and it turns out it’s not as hidden as I thought it was.  I will now, using the power of copying and pasting and captions and a little Jewish Baseball Magic, present the very things you could yourself find if you were crazy or bored enough to google “Zorrilla baseball”, only in a slightly more logical order.

Here’s an article from the New York Times.

http://www.nytimes.com/1998/05/03/nyregion/the-last-chance-season.html?pagewanted=all&src=pm

And this, from the Alicia Patterson Foundation, a blog and American journalism fund.  Both good stories.  The pictures are great.

http://aliciapatterson.org/stories/lost-new-york-baseballs-latin-ghetto

Pedrin Zorrilla owned the Santurce Crabbers in the Puerto Rican Professional League in the 40’s and 50’s and was also a scout for several Major League organizations and a politician and apparently an all around amazing person…

And our league is named after him.  According to this clip, shot to the highest quality professional videographic standards, this is the 61st year for the Pedrin Zorrilla League!  (Pardon the absurdly long intro…)

And look, a sweet promo…

If you can bear any more of the fast paced action and the mind numbing special effects, then YOU MUST check out this strike three call from the announcer around the 2:30 mark!

It appears, my team, the A’s, are the stars of the league.  If you didn’t notice, we’re in the green in the previous clip.  Here are a couple of our guys in the dugout.  I do not know what anyone is saying, and no one is paying any attention to the game until there’s a pop-up near the dugout at the 35 second mark when the video turns off…

So it appears the King of Jewish Baseball, after 40 years of wandering the desert, naked, has found his home amongst his fellow baseball cast-offs, the Okland A’s (of East New York), fallen superstars of the Pedrin Zorrilla Semi-Professional Baseball League.

THE FUNDRAISER

23 Jul

Thunder Dogs win Saturday.  A’s win Sunday.  Good weekend.  Another  6 games this week.  Day off today.  Had to catch the last 4 innings Saturday and the knees instantly turned to dry gears.

We had the fundraiser dinner last night at the City Winery, Shlo’s place.  There were 8 tables of guest between giant silver tanks of wine.  Peter flew in from Israel to host and give a presentation.  Check the new promo video for a new stadium…

The Winery doubles– triples, as a restaurant and music venue as well.  From my seat in the wine room, I could see into the main room where, on stage, none other than Kenny Fucking Loggins was performing.  Can you believe it, the King of All Jewish Baseball, and Kenny Loggins, King of All Movie Soundtrack Theme Songs (I’m Alright/Caddy Shack, Danger Zone/Top Gun, and Footloose/Footloose), in the same place at the same time?  This was a truly magical evening.

kenny fucking loggins, last night.

King of Jewish Baseball over 1,500 readers!  Follow the KOJB and Team Israel on our Journey to Jupiter on twitter @kingofJbaseball.

And support Israel baseball here…

http://support.jnf.org/site/PageServer?pagename=baseball

HOW TO BE A PROFESSIONAL AMATEUR

21 Jul

Rain out.  Our game tonight was canceled.

Before we get to our instructional portion of today’s lesson, allow me to point out that you are reading the musings of the genius no longer known only as the King of Jewish Baseball, but as a citizen of New York State who is legally permitted, if accompanied by a licensed driver, of course, to operate a motor vehicle.  That’s right, folks.  You heard correctly.  We did it.  We got our learners permit! – And it only took 5 more hours and $250.  I paid the seatbelt ticket ($180), passed the written test, got the photo, passed the eye test, and was given this piece of paper, my temporary permit ($75).  The ID will come in the mail in two weeks.  All I have to do is take a 5 hour driving class and pass my road test and I will be free to speed profusely across the highways of the nation.

learners permit.

Before we move on, allow me to point out that if population sample at the DMV is an accurate representation of the whole, we, America, are doomed.  Is there a separate bureau for fully functional members of society that I do not know about?  Because from what I could see there were none in attendance, myself, King of Jewish Baseball,  excluded of course.  Was I in the wrong office? – Was this the ESL DMV?  I have clearly been spending too much time with smart, dynamic people and have lost touch with the average Brooklynite, a 14 year-old Southeast Asian boy addicted to scratching his arms and fast food.  If you are ever feeling comfortable or complacent or are starting to believe that humanity in general is headed in the right direction, just take a trip to the DMV.  You’ll be filled with a new sense of horror and social purpose.  This cannot continue.  We gotta get this ship on track.  Do you hear me? ON TRACK.

I feel like hell today.  Not sure if it’s all the time at the DMV, or the rain, or the fact that I struck out swinging to end the game last night.

I represented the winning run.   Top of the 9th.  They were winning 6-4.  Neil and Shea singled and were on 1st and 2nd – 2 outs.  All game I had been fouling off good pitches to hit.  My swing didn’t feel right.  In the first inning I had sac bunted “on my own”, meaning I did not receive the bunt sign from the third base coach.  There were no outs, runners on 1st and 2nd, and I thought it was a good time to try and control the game and put a bunt down.  I will not be hitting third in the WBCQ if I am hitting at all.  I will potentially be asked to do things like bunt and it was a good chance to work on sacrificing in a live game.  Anyways, not to over think it, bunting in that situation represents a certain lack of aggression which is not a great way to start a game off.  The hitter after me, WILL SMITH, hit a home-run to right center field that put us up 3-0 and rendered my decision all the more puzzling.  Maybe we could have been up 4-0.  Maybe Will could have grounded into a double play and we only score 1 in the inning.  Who knows?

Either way, they scored 2 in their half of the first, and were winning 6-4 in the 9th.  In my at-bats following the bunt, I grounded out hard to short, hit a fly ball off the fence in left field (it could have been caught) – off the fence is becoming the standard, struck out looking, and was preparing to strike out swinging at a high fastball to end the game though I couldn’t have known it at the time.  I was thinking what I always think, HR.  I am not trying to hit home runs per se, but when I visualize between pitches, I see a home-run to center or right center field.  Would have been sweet.  But I fouled off a first pitch fastball that in hindsight was my best shot.  I can feel my front side “pulling off” when I stride and it’s throwing everything off.  Felt it all night.  So I just went to the park to hit off the tee, and to Richie’s to work on some things.

It would be great to be a big leaguer, wouldn’t it? – the travel is sweet, great gear, trainers, anything you want.  But not all of us are lucky or good enough, so we settle for the next best thing.  Ladies and gentleman, without further ado, I, King of All Jewish Baseball, now present…  The step-by-step guide… How To Be A Professional Amateur Athlete.

As a pro-am, you have to be your own trainer, bus driver, and equipment manager.  Here is how it’s done….

It starts with The Bag.  There are no lockers and no clubhouses when you’re a pro-am.  Your bag is your clubhouse.  So get a big bag with wheels.  They’re a bit childish, and they sucks to haul on the subway, but you need it.  Now get your gear in there.  Here is what I have in my bag right now…

From the bottom right…

2, wood bats

1, batting tee

1, rubber band with baseball attached for warm-ups

1, weighted baseball (black, you can barely see it) also for warm-ups

1, crumpled up batting practice jacket in case it rains

1, pair of spikes

1, glove (should have 2)

(the first aid section)…

2, wraps for quick repairs

1, roll of tape to secure repairs

a handful of disinfectant wipes

1, jar of advil (not pictured)

1, small bag of baseballs

1, batting helmet

1, shin guard

1, compression sleeve (not pictured)

2, pairs of batting gloves

2, small plastic bags (one fore personal items; phone, cash, keys… and one for cameras to film at-bats and for pen and paper for notes)

2, large plastic bags for trasport of dirty laundry

Which brings us to, step 2, your laundry.  Your uniform is important.  You have to look like a pro without any of the benefits of actually being one.  Have multiples of everything; jocks, pants, sliders, socks, under shirts… so you can get through a couple days without having to wash your stuff.  And plan wisely.  For example, I have two jocks.  I like one better than the other.  So I have to choose days in advance which of my upcoming games is most important because that is the day I want to wear my good jock.  This may seem extreme even to some of you who play baseball and understand the superstition involved – all baseball players look to the spirit-world for good fortune, but these my friends are simply the inner mechanics of a baseball genius at work.  Always carry your uniform in a separate plastic bag within your big bag as to not lose small items and to make the laundry transfer into your large laundry bag after the game as easy as possible.  Compartmentalize!

Step 3, the process.  The most important.  Most pros are very devoted to process.  And they can be, it’s there job.  But the pro-am has to be particular devout, because in addition to almost being an elite athlete, you have an actual life doing such trivial things as earning a living and maintaining your status as a licensed driver.  Process is everything.  Since we got rained out and are not playing an actual physical game tonight, let’s let’s play a virtual game in the great abyss called the internet located behind the screens of our computers.  Tonight’s game was supposed to be a 7:30 start.  I would have left my apartment in Brooklyn, giant bag in tow, at 4:30, got to Dave’s on the Upper East Side at 5:30, drove about an hour north, and arrived to the park at 6:30, one hour before game time…

Change behind the dugout into your uniform minus jersey (the jersey will go on later, before infield/outfield).  Go down the left or right field line depending on which dugout you’re in.  Carry with you your glove, your rubber band, your weighted baseball, and two regular baseballs and place them all in foul territory down the line.  Jog twice from the line to the center field fence and back.  Go through your dynamic warm-ups; high-knees, lunges, shuffles…  Warming-up is the hard part.  It will get easier.  Go through your static stretches; right leg over, throwing arm across…  You should be warmed-up now and ready to crank it up.  You still have 30 minutes ’til game time.   Find a good spot along the fence and do your rubber band and weighted ball work.  Go through your core and coordination routine.  Do short hops.  Throw.  Depending on the day, long toss.  Carry your warm-up gear back to the dugout.  Get your jersey on.  Take 10-20 dry swings, bottom hand, top hand, stress lower body mechanics.  Get ready for infield/outfield.  Take infield/outfield.  After infield/outfield, watch them take infield/outfield.  Who has a good arm? – Who doesn’t?  And watch their pitcher throw in the bullpen to see what you can see.  2 sprints in the outfield when umps and coaches are going over ground rules at home plate.  Get the line-up.  Game time.  Hope for the best.  You’ve prepared, but you know you are never completely in control.  Anything could happen – a bad hop, a bad call.  Stop thinking about results.  Commit to effort.  Great effort and great energy are the only acceptable options.  Never take a pitch off.  If you take a pitch off, the baseball gods will kill you.  Stay focused.  Almost done.  Stay focused.  Commit to effort.  Focus.  Stop looking at the sist on the third base coach’s eyelid.  Stay focused.  Don’t mind the train going by in the background, or the shitty lights, or the shitty field.  Just keep going.  After the game, change behind the dugout back into your regular clothes so you don’t have to bear the humiliation that is wearing a baseball uniform on the train.  Drive an hour back to the city.  Subway back to Brooklyn.  Drag the bag home.  Eat.  Shower.  Ice.  Throw a towel on the floor and do your rehab excersizes so you can do it all again tomorrow without too much pain.  And finally, sleep.  It’s 1:00am.  It took just over eight hours.  Try not to think about the strike out.  You’ll get ’em tomorrow.

THE TOURNAMENT

19 Jul

53 days.

I trained in Central Park with the high-school crew today.  It was hot.  103 degrees.

I went back to the DMV too.  In this blog post, I will eruditely encapsalate all that is the World Baseball Classic for you using only words and images.  But first, the DMV.

I was shaking when I walked in.  I had all my documents.  But the DMV is cryptonite to King of All Jewish Baseball.

Step 1 was turn in application to window 39.  There was a short line.  Without anyone looking or speaking directly to me, I was handed a test.  This was it, THE WRITTEN TEST.  I was not expecting this at all!  I’m not sure what I thought would happen.  I had never gotten this far into the process.  The magic of the DMV is their ability to suspend all things in a paralytic state of confusion like the moment after a poisonous saber toothed jellyfish strikes its prey.  When I am at the DMV, I’m terrified I will miss my turn, and simultaneously have no idea what it is I am supposed to do when my turn finally comes.  I pulled myself together for the test.  Looking around, my reading comprehension level was definitely higher than the 15 year-old kid next to me who couldn’t figure out to fit both the test and his bag of McDonalds on the desk, the woman in the burqa whose native language was not English I may have wrongly assumed, and the short bearded man whose wife was cheering him on from on the other side of the glass, all which made me feel better.  I read my answers over a second time looking for stupid mistakes before I handed in my test – can you imagine? – the King of All Jewish Baseball failing his written test.

Passed.  Boom.  Well on my way to  a learners permit.

Step two.  Take a number, your documents, and the stamped test to the room next door and wait for your number to be called. I can do that.  It’s 100 degrees outside.  At least it’s cool in the DMV.   I had F920. I slowly figured out their clandestine system.  Three windows were responsible for learners permits.  They were on 865, 55 people ahead of me, but it’s alright, numbers are moving fast, and I’m getting a license! An hour passed.  Eventually my number came up, I got my photo taken, and was handed all of my documents plus test plus new documents in a neatly paper clipped packet.

Step three.  After your photo, take a new number, your documents with your stamped test and new stamped documents, and report back to a new window when your new number is called.  45 minutes.  But this was it.  The last window.  Where you pick up your new learners permit.  I handed over my packet.  I took, and passed, the eye test – the written test, the photo, the eye test – all staples of license getting.  I was set! I waited for the ID to print out of the machine.

Step 4.  Receive the crushing blow.  The lady at the booth looked up and said, “We have a suspension on you.  Unpaid ticket from 2004.  You’ll have to go to the traffic violations office, but they’re closed, and we’re closed, so even if you went over there you couldn’t get back in here.  And we can’t keep the test.  You’ll have to start all over once you pay the fine,” and she dropped my test in the garbage next to her desk.  Nooooooooooooooooooooo.  The seat belt!  2004.  I wasn’t even driving.  I was in the front seat and got a seatbelt fine and never paid it. Her words momentarily liquified my bones with emotion and I nearly lost consciousness.  I was able to work up the strength to ask, “Could I have been told this four hours ago when I started the process?”  She looked at me and said, very simply, “No.  There is no way.”  Crushed again.  For now.  I will return tomorrow and I will triumph.

But this blog post is not really about the DMV.  Its about the tournament! – The World Baseball Classic.

The World Baseball Classic ain’t no joke.  There have been two WBCs, 2006, and 2009.  Japan has won both beating Cuba and Korea in the finals respectively.  The Olympics stopped including baseball and softball in 2008, so the WBC is now the undisputed champion of international baseball tournaments.  It is the World Cup for baseball.  There used to be something literally called the World Cup of Baseball where the winners of the Euro Championships, and the North American Champioships, and the Asian Championships, and so on, would meet and play.  But the WBC is now the only sanctioned elite world tournament.

The same 16 teams have competed in the first two WBCs.  But this time, WBCI, the committee responsible for organizing the tournament, invited 12 new countries to try and qualify.  Enter Team Israel, and a bunch of other fringe baseball countries trying their best to put together a competitive team.  The bottom 4 countries from ’09 are joining the 12 new countries making a field of 16 playing to qualify for those final 4 spots in the tournament.  16 team, 4 groups of 4, winner of each group qualifies.  These are the groups and where and they’ll be playing.

Group 1

Regensburg, Germany

  • CANADA
  • CZECH REPUBLIC
  • GERMANY
  • GREAT BRITAIN

Group 2
Jupiter, Florida, USA

  • FRANCE
  • ISRAEL
  • SOUTH AFRICA
  • SPAIN

Group 3
Taipei, Taiwan

  • CHINESE TAIPEI
  • NEW ZEALAND
  • PHILIPPINES
  • THAILAND

Group 4
Panama City, Panama

  • BRAZIL
  • COLOMBIA
  • NICARAGUA
  • PANAMA

So the four host locations are, from east to west, Tawain, Germany, Florida, and Panama.  Once the qualifiers are done and the winners are named, the actual Classic will take place in March of 2013 at which point Major League players can join their countries.

The countries you would expect to be the best because of their players, the United States and the Dominican Republic, have not medaled (the US finished 4th in ’09), which says a lot about what it takes to win in international play.  Mainly, from what I can gather, you need pitching which is no mystery.  Daisuke Matsuzaka from the Red Sox has won the WBC MVP twice, earning 3 wins in each tournament including pitching and winning the final game both times.

I am not sure which is more difficult, getting a license, or winning the World Baseball Classic.  I would say they’re equally monumental accomplishments.  And I, King of Jewish Baseball, am, to my knowledge, proudly, the first man to ever attempt both at the same time.  It will not be easy.  I will need your help.  I will have to face Daisuke, and the dragon at the DMV.  But together, we will earn international baseball supremacy, and our learners permit.

team japan celebrates after winning their drivers license, I mean, the World Baseball Classic.

I have four games in the next four days – Thursday, Friday, Saturday with the T-Dogs, Sunday with the A’s.  Time to crank it up, again.  Will let you know what happens.  Now, I must rest, big day at the DMV tomorrow.

THE DMV!

18 Jul

54 Days ’til camp!  64 days to the tournament!

KING OF JEWISH BASEBALL WENT OVER 1,OOO VIEWS TODAY! – according to the stats I check every hour or so.  Almost to 1,200.  The blog is consuming me.  Help.  It, along with my play on the field, dictates my mood lately along with obviously the amount of gold jewelry I am wearing at the time.

Baseball Bandits united in the park today.

The Baseball Bandits, Shlomo Lipetz and Nate Fish, on their Bandit Mobile, an electric scooter.

Went to the DMV today too.  Now, before your very eyes, ladies and gentleman, I am going to attempt the magic of not only being the King of All Jewish Baseball, but a legal driver in the great State of New York.

I do not have a license.  It expired. I never renewed.  Six years ago.

For those of you who do not live in New York, this may seem insane, and maybe it is, but let me tell you, it’s never been an inconvenience.  Just last week I rented a car, drove to a barn upstate where I DJed a very nice wedding, and returned the car, all without incident.  I am personally of the opinion that I do not need a piece of plastic to tell me when to drive, for I am a very good driver.  But I figure my luck is used up.  And it would only be appropriate that as King of Jewish Baseball and a professional blogger that if I at any point I am asked to drive the Bandit Mobile in a parade, or rent a car from a legitimate establishment, that I legally be allowed to do so.  Lord knows, I have tried before, and failed.

Two years ago Joe and Carry were getting married in Wisconsin.  I had a flight.  But my passport was set to expire, and I didn’t have ID.  I went to the DMV to get a license a simple, naive, care-free man.  Two weeks later, I was paranoid and broken, writing my local congress person, begging for an ID.

I went to the DMV that dreaded day, nothing in hand.  I was quickly crushed.  You can’t just walk into the DMV like that – It’s war in there,  and leave with a license.  It had been more than two year since my license had expired, so I had to start all over, get a permit, and pass the written and road tests.

I asked if I could get a New York State ID.  The answer was yes! I just needed to score 6 points on the chart to prove my identity. 2 points for a passport.  2 points for a social security card. And so on.

I prepared for my next trip.  I had my passport.  And a couple pieces of mail.

But my passport expired within the 6 month limit.  Rejected! They told me to get a social security card.

I went to the social security offices.  I was told that because my passport was going to expire, they could not issue me a new card, as I had no other form of ID.  They told me to get a note from a doctor verifying my age and identity.  I am serious.  I had a doctor write me a letter confirming I was me and returned for the card.

Back to the DMV for my new New York State ID.  Social Security card.  A birth certificate my dad had driven to the hospital where I was born in New Hampshire for!  No one man alone could accomplish something as difficult as being issued a New York State photo ID.  This was a family thing now.  And I was still trying to push the soon to be expired passport as a legitimate form of ID.

Still shy of 6 though.  No ID!

Shit.  I began thinking I would be deported.  And the wedding was getting close.

I went to a place in mid-town where they get passports fast and paid $200 for them to work their beautiful magic.  I would have paid twice that so never have to go back to the DMV.

But today I returned.  Two years strong.  Refreshed.

I was immediately slapped and sent away.

I showed up just before 4pm, confident I would get my license this time, battle hardened, all the right documents in hand – my valid passort, Social Security Card, birth certificate. expired passport, a urine sample, and a drawing of a bird, and was told the booth I needed closes at 3:30.

But I will not be defeated.  Oh no.  I, King of Jewish Baseball, am getting my license.

the battlefield. the DMV!

6 GAMES, 4 DAYS

16 Jul

It’s Sunday night.  Just got home from a double header with the Thunder Dogs.  I’ve played 6 games in the past 4 days.  Played well, for the most part.  Teams typically play a short spring training for a long regular season.  I’m playing a long spring training for an amazingly short regular season – or more accurately, I am skipping the regular season and going straight to the playoffs – four days, September 19th – 23rd.   So, what it seems I have done is nothing more than have a good week at spring training, which, although better than the alternative, goes mostly without meaning.  And if I’m honest, it wasn’t even that good.  Today alone I struck out a total of three times and made an error at third during a long and bizarre day at the ballpark that lasted almost eight hours.  Of my last 30 waking hours, 15 have been on the baseball field.  Even I, King of Jewish Baseball, have my limits, and by the end of our rain delay halfway though game two today, we all wanted out.  Guys were sitting in the dugout fantasizing about Chinese food and other things not fit for print.  And my hip hurts.  But we’ll get to that.  For now, let’s rewind, as some magical things have happened.

Friday night.  T-Dogs win!  We beat the Bears again.  It was too close through seven innings, 3-3 game.  We scored 4 in the 8th inning, and that was it.  I was 3 for 4 with 3RBIS, but only one ball was truly hit hard.

Saturday double header with the A’s.  It was a nice day. I got to the field first, but at least knew what to expect this week.  Games were scheduled to start at 10am and 1pm sharp.  Game 1 started just before 11.  Game 2 started more or less on time but dragged along to a 13-17 final.  They won both games.  Between the arguments, the walks, pitching changes, and more arguments, the game went until 4:30 putting my time on the field at just under eight hours, an honest days work.  I was a total of 4 for 7.  1 for 3 in the first game.  3 for 4 in the second game.  5 RBI’s total.  The magic I speak of happened in my first at-bat of the second game.  Runners were on first and second.  Their guy threw me a first pitch slider. And it hung, or hanged.  At which point I blacked out.  I do not remember the swing.  And I did not feel the ball hit the bat (it’s funny that when you hit the ball hardest you feel nothing, and when you hit it soft, it hurts).  But I heard a very loud noise.  Then I heard our dugout screaming.  Ever since my top-of-the fence debacle a few weeks ago, I have been running everything hard out of the box.  As I got near first base, I looked for the ball in left field, just in time to see it clear the trees behind the left field fence and land in the middle of Atlantic Avenue and take a high bounce across the highway.  Home Run.  As the new guy in the league, I would just assume get around the bases fast and resume my spot in the dugout.  But Jose had a different idea.  He started walking as soon as I hit the ball, so I was forced, as the runner behind him, to slow down to his pace and more-or-less walk around the bases.  Ray hits second, Orlando hits third, Jose hits fourth, and I hit fifth.  The three guys ahead on me in the line-up have almost 20 years pro experience between them.  Let’s take a moment to meet the A’s…

Hitting 2nd for the A’s, Ray Montanez, Short Stop.  Ray does not show up on Baseball Reference or Baseball Cube for some reason which leads me to believe that is not his actual name.  But he says when he played pro ball he was with the Rangers, and I have no reason not to believe him.  At upwards of 40 (a guess), he still looks like a big leaguer on the field.  Have a look for yourself…

Ray Montanez!

Hitting third, Right Filder, Orlando Encarnacion.  Orlando was an UDFA (undrafted free agent).  He signed with the New York Mets in 1997.  He played 3 years in the Mets organization getting as high as AA before being released.  He then played independant pro baseball.  All told, Orlando played 7 years of pro ball.  He’s a great hitter.  Ray calls him Babe Ruth…

Orlando Encarnacion!

Hitting fourth, and doing the catching, none other than, if not the the one and only, the biggest, Jose Reyes.  Jose was also as UDFA.  He signed with the Pirates in 1994 and stayed with them until 2002, a good long run.  He was playing in AA in 1998 and ’99.  I have to point out, there is a huge difference between guys that played low level minor league baseball like rookie ball or low A for example, and guys that were good enough to elevate to AA and AAA.  People sometimes make the mistake of thinking minor league baseball is just minor league baseball, but there is a drastic difference.  The guys that played AA and AAA are good, great.  They essentially are Major League baseball players who got lost in the system or didn’t quite fit in or swung at too many sliders in the dirt.  I am not sure what kept Jose out of the big leagues, but he can play at what appears to be any level he choses.  In any case, Jose, even if it’s just for the few people at our games and a free beer, is still at it, catching double headers and hitting balls a mile….

Jose Reyes!

And hitting fifth, none other, the King of All Jewish Baseball, the only Jew to ever hit a ball across Atlantic Avenue, as far as I know, yours truly.

After the game, our coach kept saying something to me in Spanish.  I think he knows I do not speak Spanish, but there’s no alternative because he doesn’t speak English so he persists hoping that if he tells me something enough times that I will somehow understand it.  I thought he was asking for money for umpires, so I went into my pocket when one of the guys finally came over to translate and said, “He is saying make sure you come to every game from now on.”  So it appears, after just three games, I have earned my stipes in the Zorrilla.

I woke up tired today.  Had at 1:30 double header at Manhattanville College about an hour north of the city.  We arrived at 12:30.  Getting lose is always the hardest part of the day.  The legs hurt.  The arm hurt.

I was having trouble focusing early in the game.  It was like I still wasn’t awake.  Sometimes it’s hard to crank up the apparatus for these games.  There’s no extra energy.  No one is there.  It’s totally quiet besides the sounds of the game and the birds.  In the Zorrilla there are people and Merenge is blasting and a couple other teams are usually hanging out down the third base line right where I play, so it’s a little easier to get the adrenaline going.  But this was an overcast sleepy Sunday in Westchester.  The forecast was for rain all day.  It hadn’t rained yet, but rain out was in the back of everyone’s mind, mine at least, which made it even harder.  I am trying to let you into the inner workings of the mind of a certified baseball genius, but what I am really doing is making excuses, because early in the game, I got an easy ground ball and booted it.  Total focus thing.  I am Still not completely comfortable on the field yet.  I am still searching for what any genius is searching for, the honest performance, front to back.  But flubbed one early.

At the plate, I was 2 for 3.  It happened again… again, for the third time now.  I hit one off the top of the fence.  Left field this time.  Hit it well.  But mostly on a line and it hit the fence and the kid playing left came up with it cleanly and quickly and it went as a single.  Next guy, my man Josh Corn, former Stanford and Penn superstar catcher, singles to right field.  I could have scored on the play if I was able to advance to second on the one off the wall which made me think I should have tried, or stolen second early in Josh’s at-bat, but the walk-off that was not a walk-off up in Peekskill is obviously still lingering because I did not try and stretch it.  We ended up winning the first game 8-6 I think it was.  We did our best to make it close as it’s said by giving up 3 in the 7th.  But Frank struck out the last batter representing the go-ahead run, game over.

It still wasn’t raining by the start of game 2, but the storm was right over us and we had even delayed the start to see if it would pass.  It was almost as dark as night the clouds were so thick, and none of us could see the ball on defense.  I told Richie I’d pay $40 for a rain out.  And in the 4th, losing 3-1, down came the thunder, and the Thunder Dogs.  The umps pulled us off the field into the dugouts.  Talk of Chinese food and other expletives enter.  First rain delay of the season.  It rained long and hard.  We all began changing out of our uniforms for the sprint to our cars.  But when the rained stop, the other team pulled out the rakes.  They were winning and still needed 6 outs to make the game official.  An hour passed.  We continued talking about food and women.  They continued raking.  We were shocked they didn’t have wives or drug habits or favorite Sunday night shows to return home to, but they clearly did not.  The sun came back out, we put our uniforms back on, and resumed the game.  If it was hard to get pumped up for the start of game 1, we were now – 6 hours later, hungry, and soaked, more or less just standing around.  We had crossed the line into a special territory you enter a couple times a season if you’re lucky – during games that take way too long, or if you’re hurt badly but still playing.  We were in survival mode.  Numbness.  Anything could happen, and nothing mattered.  What did happen is we finished the game, lost 6-3, and everyones wishes came true.  They got their win, we got our Chinese food.  Total of 2 for 7 on the day bringing my total in the 6 game stretch to 9 for 19 – 7 singles, 1 double, 1 home run, 8 RBIs.  Not my proudest day at the park, but we made it out alive.

When we took the field after the rain delay, I told the ump that if I got hurt I would sue.  I was kidding, but I was right.  With all the warming up and cooling down and warming up and cooling down, I hurt myself a little.  Left hip flexer/groin.  Was gonna train tomorrow, but am resting, blogging.  As we walked off the field I told the umps they’d hear from my lawyers in the morning.

In team news, Peter saw my most recent blog post – the one where I say most things about the team and the tournament are still unknown, and sent some answers along for us.  We have added Scott Schoeneweis as a player coach.  Schoeneweis is a left handed pitcher and played for 7 teams in the Major Leagues between 2000 and 2010.  We also will have Josh Satin.  Satin is in the Met’s organization now.  He was in the Major Leagues last year for a while.  The deal with guys in Satin’s situation regarding our team is this… If they are on a Major League 40-man roster come September, they cannot play with Team Israel obviously.  But if they’re not, they can join the team for the Qualifier.  There are a handful of guys in this situation and we won’t know about their involvement until 40-man rosters come out…

my uniform after the games today.

BACK TO BASEBALL

12 Jul

We won last night, 9-7.  The game was an hour-and-a-half north of the city.  I rode up with Dave, the team’s manager.

The game started at 8pm.  We were playing a team called the Bears. They were mostly college kids.  They looked so young and I realized at some point in the game that I am old.  I don’t feel old.  And I don’t look that old, at least when I shave and you can’t see the white in my beard, but looking at the kids on the other team, there’s no denying it, mortality, it’s for us all!

I came up with runners on first and second in my first at-bat and hit a 1-0 fastball off the base of the fence in right field which is great, but it wasn’t a good swing and I knew then I was a little off at the plate and, besides a bases loaded walk later in the game, it was my only time reaching base.  1 for 4.  1 RBI.  1 Run scored.  I swung and missed twice at fastballs in the zone.  Swinging and missing at a slider, or a fastball up out of the zone is one thing, but swinging and missing at a fastball in the zone should never happen, especially off some college kid.  I mean, I am the King of All Jewish Baseball, after all.

I had a little swag working on defense, felt good out there, but I don’t trust swag.  Just when you think you’re good, something will happen, you’ll trip on the way to first base, or swing through a cock shot as it were.

I am heading into the stretch right now, July, where I will playing the most of my games.  And I need to get it working.  I am in my 7th month of training, and I amazed and pleased to report that apparatus feels good.  I can throw without pain.  I can run without pain.  And my reflexes, despite my advanced age, seem to still be in tact.

It is July 12.  59 days ’til we report.  I still do not know…

1) If I am going to make the actual tournament team.

2) How many other guys are reporting to training camp.

3) Who those other guys are.

4) When the team will officially be named.

5) What training camp is going to “look” like.

6) How good, or bad, South Africa, France, or Spain will be.

7) How the tournament will be structured.

8) Or what will happen to me in general following the tournament – creatively, personally, professionally, or otherwise.

I, we, know virtually nothing.

All I know is that I have a plane ticket to Florida September 8th at which point I am expected to play baseball to the best of my ability.  Pretty simple actually.  Much more simple than whatever is going to happen after the tournament…   For now, it’s baseball season.

Maria Hernandez Park, around the corner from my apartment, where I hit off the tee at night.

FRANK’S

11 Jul

For anyone doubting how seriously I am taking this blog… Boom!  A photo of the blog on my new Mac Book Pro!

new mac book!

Moving on up from this guy, an old Dell.

old dell.

You cannot see it, but in the chat box my sister is saying she retweeted my tweet about yesterdays post (follow me @kingofJbaseball).  But that she only has 11 followers.  Ouch.  What you see behind the computer are some rocks I painted and put in plastic bags.  And next to the computer, none other than… some of my jewels.  Which reminds me, jewels update!

sweet new jewels.

Boom!  Two new bracelets.  Gonna take my inner peace game to a whole new level.  I do afterall have a mantra.  “Commit to effort”.  Say it between every pitch.  There’s too much shit that can go wrong on a baseball field.  Thinking about results is just a distraction.  So if you can commit one pitch at a time to great effort, you’re good.  Come to think of it, I do not think officially that you are supposed to share your mantra with other people.  Shit.

I went to Frank’s today.  Had to pick up Shlo’s glove for him.  They were restringing it.  Frank’s is the oldest and still best sporting goods store in New York City.  It’s on Tremont Avenue in the Bronx off the 176 Street stop of the 4train, four stops past yankee stadium.

yankee stadium, from the 4 train, if you could not tell.

Frank’s is in a tough area, but they’ve maintained over the years.  Better than maintained.  They provide gear to a lot of Major League players and organizations.  At the store they have a file cabinet with players and their agent’s names with a list of what gear the player uses during the season.  Because they supply so many pros, they have a room in the basement full of overstocked pro wood bats.  I know they guys at Frank’s, so they let me down there to pick from the pro stock.

basement at Frank’s.

This training shit is expensive…

6, wood bats ($300)

1, pair of new nike spikes ($100)

1, glove restring ($20)

1, nike compression sleeve so I don’t keep cutting my arm when I dive for balls or slide head-first ($20)

1, 60 minute full body massage ($75)

3, month memberships to Richie’s Gym ($75)

1, training session with a coach at Velocity sports, a speed and strength gym in midtown ($135)

1, Oakland A’s hat ($30)

An absurd amount of gold and beaded jewelry (PRICELESS)

Grand Total = $755!  So far.

And that doesn’t count all the cliff bars, gatorades, and bananas that litter my ball bag.  I am not particularly shrewd, bad with money to be honest. Spend too much of it.  But, as King of Jewish Baseball and certifiable baseball genius, I feel entitled to free gear.  Once you’ve been issued free stuff for so long, and even get paid (if only a little) to play, there’s some switch that is thrown and you think you are gonna get free stuff forever.  But, alas, no.  At some point every man must rejoin the ranks of the common shlub and pay for shoes and gym memberships.  At least I have Frank’s.  Thanks guys!

Frank’s Sports Shop.

5 games in the next 5 days.  3 with the T-Dogs, starting tonight, and 2 with the A’s.

Will let you know what transpires.  For now, Nate Fish, King of Jewish Baseball, signing off.

THE BIG PICTURE

10 Jul

So far, this blog has been about me (bad habit, if you haven’t noticed).  But this tournament is not about me despite my sometimes feeling like it is.  It’s about a lot of people.  There’s Peter and Haim, the heads 0f the IAB (Israel Association of Baseball) who have been working on baseball development in Israel a lot longer and a lot harder than I have, than anyone has, really.  There’s Dan and Shlo who have been on the Israel National Team since Israel has had a national team.  There’s Leon Klarfeld and David Shanker who coached them when they were little.  There’s Pat Doyle, the head coach last summer in the European Championships Qualifiers.  There’s Richard Kania from Check Republic who goes to Israel every summer to coach and who was an assistant with me under Pat for that team.  There’s Alon.  All the guys on the National Team.  Steve Hertz, my coach in the Israel Baseball League.  There’s Sham, Blomberg, Holtzy, Prib, Levy, Haystings, Larry, Brett and Eric, the kids that came to our games, Tony, everyone who played and coached and watched and who care about baseball in Israel.  Point being, a lot of people, so let’s take a minute to look at what is called the big picture.  What does this tournament really mean to Israel, and baseball, and Israel Baseball?

We have two goals for the tournament.

1) To win the qualifier and advance as far into the World Baseball Classic as possible.

2) To do what no one else has been able to do, yet… make baseball popular in Israel.

The two are not exclusive from one another.  There’s no doubt that the better we do in this tournament, the better chance we have on making an impact in Israel, specifically with kids in Israel.

Peter sent the team this e-mail last week…

This is a historic day for Israel Baseball.  We finally have the opportunity
to build a field of our own.  The mayor of Raanana has approved the
establishment of a national baseball field in Raanana.

The realization of this dream, however, is dependent upon us to raise
sufficient funds in a relatively short period.  This is a true test of our
organization to work together as a team to achieve this goal, which will
change the face of baseball in Israel.  We have started the process to
transform our initial sketches to exact architectural plans.  We are also
leveraging our exposure with our participation in the WBC to get donations
for this project.  But of course much more is needed and everyone’s
involvement will hopefully give us the momentum to move forward.

The mayor of Ranaana, a small town about 30 miles north of Tel Aviv, has approved the plans to build the first bonafide baseball stadium in the country.  There are currently three fields in Israel; one is on Kibbutz Gezer, shout-out to the Leischman Family!  One is in Sportek, Tel Aviv’s “Central Park”.  And one, the nicest of the three, is in what is called “Baptist Village” or “Yarkon Sports Complex” depending on who you ask.  Everything in Israel has multiple names in multiple languages.  What can I say? The place is nutty.  Petach Tikvah, where Baptist Village is located, is in view of the West Bank which is neither here nor there but adds some gravity to the story and sheds a bit of light on why things in Israel have multiple names in multiple languages and hold multiple meanings to multiple groups of people.  The field was built by Baptists from Tenessee who felt it was there mission to build and, to this day, maintain a pretty nice baseball diamond in the Promise Land.  I do not think the plans for the new stadium in Ranaana would have been approved if we weren’t playing in the WBC, so there is some impact already.

picture of ausmus (manager) meeting president peres, from ny times article.

But like it says in the email, being approved to build a stadium, and the actual building of a stadium, are two different things.  The gap is the roughly three million dollars it’s going to cost to turn the structure from an architectural model into a full size building.  So we need to raise money.  We have fundraisers in New York and Chicago coming up this month.

official invite.

If you want to attend…

http://www.baseball.org.il/en/newyork

But to understand where baseball in Israel is headed, you have to understand where it’s been.  So, come with me on a journey through the magical and shabby history of Israel Baseball.  It is fortunate that as the King of all Jewish Baseball I have done extensive research on the matter, mainly for my still unpublished masterpiece, … THE SCHNITZEL AWARDS; The Story of the First and Only Season of the Israel Baseball League, so I will be able to retell the story to you now.

Baseball in Israel started in 1989.  At least, that is when the IAB officially formed, and Israel entered a “national team” into their first international competition.  I put national team in quotes because when you, reader, think “national team”, I assume you think Olympics, nice uniforms, and the finest training facilites and accomodations.  But in this case, “national team” means a bunch of kids and their dads going completely unprepared to a baseball tournament not having any idea what to expect.  That first tournament in ’89 was the Junior Euro Championships in Ramstein, Germany.  The kids were 12 years-old I believe.  They stayed in a bomb shelter next to the Rabbi’s house on the air force base in Ramstein where they slept on matresses thrown on the floor.  In the mornings, they would sit shivering on benches outside the bomb shelter eating cold cereal.  They had exactly 9 gloves and shared them depending on who was in the game and who was on the bench.  They wore mismatching hats and t-shirts and sweat pants as uniforms.  They lost their first game to Germany.  And lost their second game – a close one, 51-0 to Saudi Arabia.  I will not delve into the intrigue of those little league match-ups – Israel V. Germany, and Israel V. Saudi Arabia, and will simply point out how bad they must have been to lose a baseball game 51-0.  What are called humble beginnings.  The team eventually earned their first win at a tournament in Italy versus Estonia three years later.  To give you an idea of how far they’ve come since 1989, last summer, 2011, 21 years later,  we lost to Great Britain in the finals of the European Championship Qualifiers, the day Shlogun threw 13 innings.  Their team was full of North Americans with British passports many of whom had played pro baseball.  And our team was full of, well, basically those same kids that were sleeping in the bomb shelter 21 years earlier.

2011 Israel National Team!

So, there is a functioning baseball world in Israel, however small.  There’s a little league, a men’s league, a national team program, and quite a few ex-pats watching their favorite team play on MLB.com at 3am each night.  But despite the good finish last summer and our being invited to the WBC, let me say explicitly so you understand, baseball is still way off-the-radar in Israel.  People like soccer and basketball.  In general, it is a sporty place, Tel Aviv at least.  But people there say what all people who don’t like baseball say – that it is slow, they do not understand the rules, and the players are fat (it comes up a lot).  When I’m in Israel playing or coaching and tell cab drivers or the lady at the post office as much, they look at me blankly and say, “No, No, we do not have beisbol in Israel.”  Then I say, “No, yes, you do– I am here–”  Then they lose interest and look away.  If you are from America and you grew up playing baseball, you’re just an average American, no explanation is required as to why.  In Israel, if you play baseball, there’s a story. Either you moved there from California, or your cousins in Long Island mailed you a glove and bat and ball, or you just wanted to do something different.  In America, baseball is tradition.  In Israel, it’s weird.  So what does it take to make baseball, anything, popular in a place where it is already unpopular?  I personally have played in places where the game is huge – the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico, and places where it is not – Israel and Germany, and still do not know exactly the answer.  Why do people in the Dominican Republic love the game and people in Germany don’t know the pitcher and hitter are on different teams?  Why are some people willing to learn the rules and spend a lifetime practicing the game and some just think the uniforms look funny?

Let’s take this a step further.  To understand if baseball will become popular in Israel, we have to understand how it’s become popular other places. Outside the United States, baseball is played mainly in the Caribbean and Japan, right?  There is an emerging international baseball scene, primarily in Asia and Europe.  Just about every country not considered “third world” has some version of a pro league.  But most of the European and Asian counties are in the same boat as Israel in that baseball is considered a fringe sport there.  Competing in the WBC this September will be a quantum leap for most of the new countries trying to qualify for the first time.  So why did baseball catch on on Japan and the the Caribbean and not other places?  The common assumption about baseball’s proliferation is that American soldiers build fields wherever they’re off fighting and then everyone uses the fields when they leave which is not that far off.  The field on the air force base in Ramstein is a perfect example.  War does seem to play a big part…

Supposedly, the first baseball game ever played off American soil took place in 1847 when the wooden leg of defeated general Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna was used as a bat in game between soldiers in the Mexican American War.

Baseball came to Cuba in 1860 when professional team from Philadelphia and Chicago went to Havan to play exhibition games in the warm weather.  The Cubans eventually brought baseball to the rest of the caribbean fleeing the Spanish in Ten year War.

In 1837, an American teacher named Horace Wilson is credited with bringing the game to Japan.  By 1934, over sixty years later, the game was popular enough for an American All-Star team to go there to play.  Babe Ruth was on the team.  One of Ruth’s teammates, Mo Berg; catcher, Jew, and CIA spy, took photos of Tokyo on that trip that were later used in the plans to bomb the city.

There is no shortage of war in Israel unfortunately.  The weather is perfect for baseball.  And there are lots of Americans. All the ingredients are there to make baseball, if not huge, good at least.  But it’s only been 20 years, and these things take time.

Here are some of the kids from our baseball camp last summer….

Mendy

rocky

evan

moshe

one of the kids had a youkilis jersey!

the next generation of israel baseball stars, at lunch.

For the full story of the Israel Baseball League.  Check out my teammate Aaron Pribble’s book!  Just click the link below…

http://www.nebraskapress.unl.edu/product/Pitching-in-the-Promised-Land,674766.aspx