KING OF JEWISH BASEBALL

And so we meet again– me, you, Ladies, Geetles, millions of faithful readers.

The article in Details Magazine was released yesterday to much fanfare (http://www.details.com/culture-trends/critical-eye/201303/team-israel-world-baseball-classic-qualifier).  Due to the online version of the article hitting the net, KOJB readership has gone from the usual 46 “views” per day all the way up to 52.  So, before we break the internet, let me seize this magical moment in time, take this opportunity, if you will, to trick you into buying something.  For that is, after all, what we are supposed to do to one another, is it not?

Before I was the King of All Jewish Baseball, or, better put, before I knew I was the King of All Jewish Baseball, I was just a man, with an afro, in a movie, about Jewish Baseball.  And that movie is called… Holy Land Hardball.

In 2007, a genius who specializes in making bad ideas into real things, something I admire very much, Larry Baras, a Boston bagel maker who had earned a small fortune selling his “Unholy Bagels”, pre-stuffed, pre-packages, holeless bagels with cream cheese, decided, naturally, to start a professional baseball league in Israel.  And another man– two men, really, Brett Rapkin and Erik Kesten, also geniuses, as it were, from Los Angeles, recognized the certain kind of crazy in Larry’s idea, and decided to make a movie about the creation of this Israel Baseball League, the first “professional” baseball league in the Middle East, the Kings of Jewish Baseball Documentary Film Making (despite it being a stiff category), if you will.

Brett and Erik brought their cameras to the first tryout for the Israel Baseball League at Dan Duquette’s camp in the Berkshires (Dan now is the general manager of the Baltimore Orioles,  but, at the time, was the head of Player Development for the IBL).  And I happened to be there too, trying out.  And the rest, as they say in… the movies, is history. I was eventually selected by the Tel Aviv Lighting and went on, along with 120 teammates, friends, coaches, roommates, and league executives, to play what I, the King of All Jewish Baseball, personally guarantee, was the craziest baseball season ever, anywhere.

After the season, the film was released, and Brett and Dan and I and everyone else who was involved went on a raucous, no holds-barred film tour.  We went to Jewish Film festivals, synagogues, colleges, JCCs, we visited anyone who would have us, drinking Poland Springs by the dozen and politely answering questions about the experience.  For a period of six months or so, we dominated the Elderly Jewish Social Scene up and down the Eastern Seaboard.  We were unstoppable.  The film won Best Documentary at the Boston Jewish Film Festival.  It aired on the MLB Network.  Variety loved us! –  “You don’t have to be Jewish or understand a box score to embrace the crowd-pleasing national-pastime docu ‘Holy Land Hardball.'”

And now, all these years later, due to a unique positioning of the planets coincidentally timed with Brett’s parents insisting he get the boxes of DVDs out of their garage in LA, we are making this one-time, irresistable offer.  WE WILL SELL AND SEND DIRECTLY TO YOU A COPY OF HOLY LAND HARDBALL, SIGNED BY THE DIRECTOR AND THE KING OF ALL JEWISH BASEBALL, FOR ONLY THE VERY AVERAGE PRICE OF JUST $19.95.  The DVDs can be used for the following… Birthday gifts (ages 0-125), bar-mitvah gifts, bat-mitvah gifts, coaster/tiny coffe table, buy lots and build a “house of Holy Land Hardball DVDs”, frisbee, shin guard[s], snow shoes, a time machine, a space taker upper– you can even use it to watch the movie and be entertained for 90 minutes.

To buy your very own copy of Holy Land Hardball, just click the link below.

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=251237385255

Hello, again, Ladies and Geetles.  In my new role as the Director of the IAB, and, of course,  in my eternal role as the King of All Jewish Baseball, part of my obligation is to magically transform into an actual Israeli citizen, or, as it’s called in Hebrew, make “Aliyah”, and, eventually, to adopt sacred, time-honored Israeli traditions such as acting pissed-off all of the time.

An organization called “Nefesh B’ Nefesh” specializes in relocating Jews from North America and England to Israel. I have been working closely with the people at Nefesh the past month or so to get the formidable dossier of necessary documents together to make this magical transormation possible and to confirm my earthly existence; birth certificates, passports, travel and financial records, shoe size, baby pictures, letters from Rabbis, the trust fall. And finally, yesterday, I had my official Aliyah interview at the Jewish Agency here in New York.

And so it is true, after all, the King of Jewish Baseball is… Jewish.

From left to right… present day KOJB, young KOJB.

I arrived at the Jewish Agency offices and was greeted warmly with a thorough security screening before being let into the waiting room.  Soon I met my “shaliach” or “shepherd”, Asher, who will personally guide me on my journey to Israel like an unblinking camel across the stormy deserts of the Middle East.

There was a lot of activity in the office, people scurrying about, looking my way.  As is my habit, I assumed this was just typical joy and excitement generated by a visit from the King of All Jewish Baseball.  Asher shook my hand and said with a big smile in his thick Israeli accent, “Mr. Basketball, Mr. Maccabi Tel Aviv.  I expected you to be taller.”  I said, “Oh no, not basketball, BASEBALL, I am moving to Israel for baseball.” “Oh,” he said, his smile flattening, losing interest, “There’s baseball in Israel?”.

One nice thing about moving to Israel… the Israeli government pays you to do it – it’s like moving to Alaska, or the Moon Colony.

Upon landing in Israel, I will be carried on the shoulders of ecstatic men, I am almost sure, like Vince Lombardi, into a small office where I will register for my medical insurance and will be given an envelope of cold, hard Shekels – the first of 6 monthly Aliyah payments.  The money is to help me with rent and other expenses.  In addition to those 6 payments, I will be provided a one-way flight to Israel, I will receive intensive hebrew-language training, I do not have to pay tax on anything I ship, I will get a 90% income tax rate reduction for the first three years I live in the country, and, I can’t forget, I will be provided one golden palace so large as to allow my flock of 1,000 rare tropical birds of prey to fly free inside the greenhouse/courtyard surrounded by fountains made of ice and a staff of several hundred loyal robots whose sole purpose it will be to maintain the structural integrity of the ice fountains despite crushing 100 degree temperatures.

So a big thank you to Asher and to Nefesh B’ Nefesh for leading me on my way to Israel.

This is happening.

Ladies and Geetles, gather ’round, for I have important news– the King of Jewish Baseball recently, just two days ago, as a matter of fact, shattered what was until recently thought shatter-proof, that is, the 20,ooo readers barrier.  It is indeed a slow climb to 1.3 million. It will only take, at this rate, according to my calculations, 217 more years.

Partly, I am sure, because of the 20k news, a wild KOJB media frenzy has ensued in the form of a single article in Details Magazine that hit newsstands today and is sure to create a nasty outbreak of Jewish Baseball Fever across the land.  It is hard for me to leave my apartment these days with the sea of photographers and reporters and fans awaiting me in the streets, but earlier, in disguise of course, to say, without cape and crown, I safely snuck down to my local magazine shop and purchased two copies of Details.

Give me the magazines!

So go, now, get your copies of the March issue of Details Magazine– the thoughtfully timed release coinciding with the first days of Spring Training, but be careful, there are mobs, looters, stampedes even, of ravenous KOJB fans lurching closer, magnetically drawn, zombie-like, to magazine shops seeking their fix of Team Israel, the Greatest Jewish Baseball Magic Show on Earth, and a glimpse at the King of All Jewish Baseball himself.

March issue of Details Magazine. That’s me on the cover.

Everyone in publishing knows, YOU PUT THE GOOD STUFF ON PAGE 160. See Shlo?

I will let the protective comedic shield down, momentarily, and I will attempt to write about being written about.  For there are only two real options in life, 1) someone else writes about you, or 2) write about yourself.  The first is preferable, though I will not hesitate, as clearly demonstrated, to resort to the second.

In seriousness, we, me and Shlo, knew the article was coming out, obviously.  Charles, who wrote the article, and Rebecca, who took the photos, were with us for a week in Florida, at the games, around the clubhouse, at the hotel.  So we have been waiting almost four months to see it.  Every time I am involved in a minor media explosion, which is often, my expectation is that it will somehow transform me.  And then the article or the film is released, and nothing changes, I am 99.9 percent similar to my prior self.  It is the power media has over us– well, me, anyways.  I am not sure what I expect to happen.  I have been lead to believe fireworks will fly from rooftops, maybe, or women, I think I expect things to just somehow be easier.  Maybe you are a better man, or woman, than I am, and you do not suffer this particular affliction, but I doubt it.

Today, for example, I bought the magazine, and jumped back in the car double-parked outside the magazine store.  I found our article between novel-length stretches of men’s fashion ads.  About halfway through the article a man rapped on my window and asked me to move, I was blocking his car.  He must have thought, what type of horrible idiot sits in his car, double-parked, blocking me, on a Wednesday, at noon, reading a magazine?!?!  Startled, I pulled around the corner and finished reading.  The whole thing took maybe 15 minutes.  Then, I put the magazine on the passenger seat, and drove home.  And now I am sitting at my desk.  In a couple of hours, if I can muster the motivation, I will go to Richie’s Gym.  Tonight, at 7, we have Yeshiva University softball practice.  The girls on the team will warm-up, they will stretch, and they will go through their throwing program.  We’ll work on defense, hitting, then we’ll condition at the end, like we always do.  And life will continue today as it was yesterday and as it will be tomorrow.

I am learning, as the order goes, the book is always better than the movie, but neither are as good as the real thing.

http://www.details.com/culture-trends/critical-eye/201303/team-israel-world-baseball-classic-qualifier

So, it’s been two weeks since I was named Director for the IAB.  I will not officially be employed by the IAB until summer.  But it is time for the work to begin.  There is so much to do.  But what, exactly, does the Director of Israel Baseball, how do you say… do?  The answer… is… I do not know.  But I am learning and organizing an army of warriors the likes of which the world hasn’t seen since 2006 with the release of the film 300.

This is Sparta– I mean, Israel Baseball!

As National Executive Director, I will be responsible for…

1) The Israel National Team Program.

2) 80 or so teams across the country in age divisions ranging from 8-and-under to 18-and-over.

3) Helping raise money for a new National Training Facility and Stadium.

4) General baseball educational services in schools and communities around the country.

In short, I will be responsible for introducing and integrating baseball into Israeli life, and improving the quality of baseball for those few people in Israel who already play.  It should only be slightly more difficult than defeating the entire Roman Army with 300 male models.

The possibilities are endless. But this is no time for fantasies, for there is work to be done.  That’s right, Ladies and Junipers, the King of Jewish Baseball must now leave your bedside, if only for a while, to attend to his duties as leader of Sparta, and the Israel Association of Baseball.  I shall return soon.

Victory is ours!

So, the big tournament, the tourney, what we had all come for, the 2013 AAU International Mens Fastpitch Softball Tournament (really rolls off the tongue).  36 teams from around the world.  The Gigantes, from Venezuela.  Hill United, with 8 members of Canadian National Team on their roster.  And Maccabi USA, the best, and only, believe it or not, all-Jewish team in the tournament….

Team Maccabi USA.

We played 4 games in 3 days. We lost all 4.  3 of the games we lost by “run rule”, meaning the other team was winning by 8 or more runs after 5 innings.  Here are the results, in order… 1-13, 0-9, 4-5, 1-9.

I will say, the 5-4 game was against the team that went on to win the tournament, the Hill United Chiefs, and was a thriller.  We were winning 4-1 in the 5th.  Everyone, fans, other teams, had crowded around the backstop to see if the Jewish Team could beat the best team there.  Eventually, we could not.  They scored 4 runs in the bottom of the 5th, then brought in Adam Folkard, the ace from the Australian National Team and hands-down the best pitcher in the world, to close the game.  What can I say? – Not the best performance ever.  But we held our heads high after each battle, and focused our collective Magical Jewish Softball Beam towards the future. So now, without further prancing about, Ladies and Jamskis, it is my pleasure and honor to introduce the proud warriors of Team Maccabi USA…

Batting first…

Dan Winters.  Los angeles, CA.  Head Coach/C/Superstar. Dan played for the Oakland A’s organization.  In 1985, he was traded, along with another minor leaguer, for Dusty Baker. We make sure to remind him often that it’s the worst trade in the History of Major League Baseball. http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=1346&dat=19850325&id=KpQsAAAAIBAJ&sjid=2PsDAAAAIBAJ&pg=1657,4359638

Dan Winnick.  San Francisco, CA. CF/Speed Medal Guitar Soloist/Tech Genius/the King of Jewish Softball!

Jason Gluckman aka CLUCKATRON. Los Angeles, CA. P/C/DH/Destroyer of many things/nasty habit, one of many, of pitching great in big games.

Tony Kahan. Chicago, IL.  C/Coach/CLUTCH performer/the King of All base clearing doubles.

Mike Goldman aka Goldy. New York, NY. 2B/OF/Admin Genius/King of All Jewish Lawyers, and that’s saying something.

Scott Wortman. Hometown Hero straight out of Florida. Disabled List (back)/Scorekeeper/Recently found GUILTY of wearing the questionable “Softball Visor”.

Aaron Owens. Los Angeles, CA. Played in the Brewers organization. C/1B/2B/P/Hell, anywhere on the field/high octane motor/suffers burning sensations in arm when throws/maniac/granted official honorary J-status from the highest court in the land, that is to say, the King of Jewish Baseball.

Larry Silfen. Los Angeles, CA. 2B/the glue that binds us/King of All Courtroom Videography

Marty Weiner. Los Angeles, CA. OF/the Rookie/King of Firsts

Joe Shwartz. Arizona. 2B/OF/Breast Cancer Awareness Enthusiast/the King of Hard Hit Ground Balls Through the Right Side

Mark Brill aka the Jewish Bobby D. Miami, FL. 3B/avoided injury/voted South Florida’s Most Eligible Man of Mystery Jewish Softballer of the Year Award each of the last 11 years.

Nate Fish. Brooklyn, NY (soon to be Tel Aviv, Israel). SS/the King of All Jewish Baseball.

Not photographed:  Jacobo Dabbah aka Doc aka JoboJoboBoboBobo.  Mexico City, Mexico. P/lone representative of global non-American community/was either dodging the camera, or was attending to one of his many more important responsibilities as the King of All Jewish OBGYNs.

It was cold in New York, so the King of Jewish Baseball packed up his equipment, that is to say, his bag of scarves, handcuffs, and rabbits, and headed for sunny Orlando, aka, the Magical Land of Abandoned Styrofoam Castles, for the 2013 annual AAU Mens Fastpitch Softball Tournament.

The KOJB at Orlando’s ESPN Wide World of Sports

Beautiful Orlando.  Magical Orlando.  Disney’s Orlando.  But what happened here, in this place called Orlando?  For what was once clearly a thriving metropolis has been reduced to a bizarre stretch of giant gift shops, novelty stores, and Waffle Houses.  What ancient warriors are responsible for this destruction?  The conquistadors?   The Crusaders?  The economic collapse of 2008?  Many Kings used to ride the wooded trails of Route 192, I can tell, can feel their presence, horses lurching forward, breathe heavy under chainmail and steel visors, swords drawn, on their way to Disney World.  How could this have happened to the Great Kingdom of Central Florida?  Have a look for yourselves, but be warned, the following images are graphic, as in graphic design, highly colorful marvels of post-modern architecture selling almost exclusively post cards and fruit – art of the highest order, if you will…

Orange World, the world’s largest fruit stand.

Who can resist Giant Elvis? None shall pass!

Do not let the completely empty parking lot fool you.  Orlando’s economy is booming.

What is more welcoming than a giant wizard with a lazy eye? – That is correct, nothing.

Everyones’ favorite three headed Flarrafigator, guarding the gates of Orlando.

And so I leave Orlando confused, but optimistic.  For if one man named Walt can colonize and destroy an entire city with only the help of a mouse named Mickey, just imagine what the King of Jewish Baseball can accomplish with his army of Jewish Baseball Geniuses.

I am going to Orlando tomorrow.  I’m playing for the United States Maccabi Team in the annual AAU Mens Fastpitch Softball Tournament.  The tournament is taking place at the ESPN/Disney Wide World of Sports Complex that doubles as the Atlanta Braves Spring Training Facility.  Check it out…

The world of mens fastpitch softball is a Weird World indeed.  Normally, a team of all Jews– all anythings, would be unusual.  But in Mens Fastpitch, teams, especially in this tournament, for some reason, often have a cultural identity.  A team of Native Americans, for example, or a team of Kiwis (the game is big in New Zealand), a straight-edge team, a team of Jamaicans, or, in our case, a Jewish team.

Once you stop playing mainstream sports, whenever you’re out of the system, which inevitably happens for all of us, at some point, you have two options, you can stop playing altogether, or you can join in the Weird World of Sports, that level of sports just beneath the Major Leagues or the NBA or NFL, where people train like pros, but there is no money, and even less glory – this is the world of pro kayaking and triathlons, low-level boxing, ping-pong, trampolining, cup stacking, speed walking, roller derby, and, of course, mens softball.  It is a world millions of people participate in, and still, somehow, no one cares about, no one writes about, no one knows about.

I was introduced to Fastpitch softball in 2005 when I played for the USA in the Maccabi Games.  The next summer, in 2006, I played a full season of pro mens fastpitch for the 6th ranked team in the world.  We traveled for 12 weeks starting in the Dominican Republic where we played a 7 game series against the Dominican National Team, and headed generally northward, finishing the season in Canada at the “World Tournament” where the top 40 teams in the world go each year to compete for the title of best in the world, the Major Leagues of softball.

a young KOJB with the short stop from the Dominican National Team

Fastpitch softball is challenging.  The pitchers are only 46 feet away, and they hop forward closing the gap even farther before throwing the pitch.  The hardest throwers in the world throw the ball in the low 80s.  Taking into consideration the velocity and the distance, it is the equivalent in baseball to what would be a 125 mile per hour fastball.  This video gives you a pretty good perspective…

So, Orlando.  There are a total of 36 teams in the tournament.  We have 1 game tomorrow, 2 games Friday, and 1 more Saturday.  Then the playoffs begin, if we can make it that far.  Championship Game is Sunday.  Stay tuned.  Florida, I’m coming back, already.  Team Maccabi, live, in action, this weekend.  Will let you know what happens…

Got this e-mail December 3rd, 2012, 6 weeks ago…

Hi Nathan,

I got your name from Ami. I was talking to Ami about my plans to start Softball here at Yeshiva University and he mentioned that you might be interested in helping us start the team and would be an excellent resource for us if your schedule didn’t allow you to coach. I would love to have a conversation with you about our plans when you have a free moment. Please let me know what is the best way to reach out to you.

 Thanks

—

Let us, again, commence with an exercise, let us ask ourselves, logically, if we were an all Jewish University, and we wanted to start a softball program, who would we contact? – That is correct, we would contact the King of All Jewish Baseball.  There is surely only one man qualified for the task of creating a softball program for Yeshiva– coaches, players, uniforms, equipment, gyms, fields, wins, losses, a team, a season – so much to do.

Just 6 weeks after receiving the email above, we made history, a little history, at least, little enough that it didn’t feel like history, as history, I suspect, has a way of feeling, or not feeling, I should say – that’s right, Ladies and Geetles, last night, we held the first ever practice for the Yeshiva University Maccabees Womens Fastpitch Softball Team.

11 women attended “evaluations”.  We have a total of 18 on the team.  3 coaches. 3 practices per week in the gym until the weather breaks, then we’ll head outside.

And so the King of Jewish Baseball continues to march forward through the perilous, barren landscape of Jewish Baseball, or Softball, in this case, leaving in his wake only vast swaths of scorched earth, and, of course, the distinct odor of Jewish Baseball residue.  To life.  To the 2013 Yeshiva University Maccabees Womens Softball Team.

The first YU Maccabees softball practice… ever.

There are certain perks that come with being the King of Jewish Baseball.  For example, the dungeon, the gold, the royal bathings are nice.  But, believe it or not, the job does not pay well.  So I picked up some work until I move to Israel.  I am coaching 3 teams this spring, 3 squads of the finest, bravest, most fearless men we could find in all of New York City.  That’s right, Ladies and Juice Worms, meet THE BULLDOGS…

Bulldogs 8U (Black)

Bulldogs 8U (Red)

Bulldogs 10U

3 teams, 1 goal… world domination.

We’ll keep you updated on the ‘Dogs’ progress this season.

I got this e-mail recently…

 Nate;

How are you. My name is “Coach” Steve Mandl

I coach at the legendary George Washington HS in NYC, where we have had 7 Major Leaguers since my career began about 30 years ago. We are a storied program and Im sure you know much about the program. 

I, like you am a Jew, a proud Jew. I wear #32… due to Sandy Koufax. 

I have a very long resume that spans not only here but over most of the world. I am a member coach of USA Baseball and was planning to coach with them this summer. The past few summers, in addition, I coach with  Bobby Valentine and the All American team.

“Coach” Steve Mandl

—

Hello, again, Ladies and J-Birds, let us begin, today, with an exercise…  Let’s say… you, for example, want to get involved with Israel, or baseball, or any combination of the two, who would you contact? – That is correct, you would contact the King of Jewish Baseball.  But no one garners the attention of the KOJB without paying a tariff, no one! – If you’ve spoken to me even just once, you are an official lifetime member of the Jewish Baseball Magicians Institute.   That’s right, Steve, in exchange for an introduction to the world of Jewish Baseball, I, King of Jewish Baseball, trade you… one blog post.

Steve is in his 30^th season at George Washington High.  So I thought it only noble that I pay him a visit at his fiefdom.

I told Steve I’d be there at 3, when school lets out, to discuss the ever-growing kingdom of Jewish Baseball.  After getting lost in Washington Heights, I arrived at 3:30, late.

GW!  A majestic sight! A palace, if I don’t say so myself, on a hill, in Washington Heights, waaaaaaaaaay uptown Manhattan, with the sun shining on it, and inside, with a large front hall, and gold banisters, and lots of security, fit for… a King.

Steve’s office is a small room in the basement covered with photos and posters of Jimi Hendrix and a huge, signed Manny Ramirez, and Kurt Cobain, and framed team pictures from each of his thirty years there.  And I looked at Steve and thought, yes, here we go, the King of George Washington High.

Steve Mandl, the King of George Washington High, in his office.

GW has been one of the best high-school teams in the country for nearly Steve’s entire career.  From what I can gather – please remember my resources are limited to the internet, direct e-mails to Steve, time travel, and all of nature – GW has won 28 of the last 29 League Championships, 3 city titles, they’ve put 7 players into the Major Leagues (including their most well known alum, Manny Ramirez) and countless others into college and minor league baseball.  Last year alone they had two high draft picks.

Manny Ramirez GW High School team pictures. Manny is sitting bottom left in ’89, and front center, on a knee, in ’90.

Steve told me if the baseball team played the football team in football, the baseball team would win.  Then he told me if the baseball team played the basketball team in basketball, the baseball team would win that too (and claimed it was once happening until the basketball coach stopped the game).

What I really wanted to do was observe practice, see the kids play, and watch the master at work.

Since I was late, I was sure I was going to interrupt, that they would have already started.  But the security guard took me downstairs. Steve was sitting with a player, or former player, or father, or another coach.  The gentleman kindly bowed and exited.  Steve said practice would start in about 5 minutes.  I felt rushed and as if I were rushing him though he did not seem at all hurried.

Practice never really “started”.  Or maybe it had never ended.  Steve said they practice from about 3:30 – 7:30 every day.   He did not eventually call everyone together, which is what I am accustomed to, the official signal of the beginning of practice.  Instead, we walked out to the hallway outside his office.   Players came and went, dressed in Diamond Backs and Blue Jays and Yankee gear.  Eventually, they began running down the hall and up a flight of stairs and out of sight, a lot of them, a group of around 40.  A red Gatorade had leaked from the bottom of a garbage can in the middle of the room.  Players jumped over it or around it as they ran by.  We looked at the weight room.  You could hear the team now running their laps overhead, pounding footsteps in the hallways and the stairwells.

Warm-ups took 40 minutes.  Every exercise I have ever seen, done 3 times, in sets of 10, and it made me think of my teams when I was young, an infield routine with 8 baseballs in flight at once, all the push-ups, the yelling.  The kids were banging out jumping Jacks like it was the damn Olympics.  They were like the Giants before a Wold Series Game, but they weren’t the Giants, and they weren’t about to play a World Series Game, not to mention a game at-all, that day, or week, or month even.  It was January.  We were in the floor-stained basement of a big, old, dirty high-school.  40 or so kids were doing jumping jacks like Navy Seals.  Steve still had not said anything.  After nearly an hour of this, Steve spoke – he had them finish the warm-up with 15 minutes of abs.

Then sprints began.

“Pairs of two.  Down the hallway.  On me.  Take a lead.  Go on ‘go’.  Get back to the bag on ‘back’.”

“Next.  Do a 360 to the right, facing the radiator, on the way there.  And a 360 to the left on the way back.  Don’t turn your head.  Use your peripheral vision.  Trust your body.  Go.”

It was 5pm when I left, two hours had passed, and no one had picked up a baseball.   I thanked Steve and walked out as the guys were breaking up into groups to throw.

There was no rush.  There was a long practice ahead, like yesterday’s, and another one tomorrow. Forever.  If you’re lucky.

Good luck to the George Washington Trojans and the King of Goerge Washington High School, Coach Steve Mandl, from the King of Jewish Baseball and all the members of the Jewish Baseball Magicians Institute.

Coach Mandl with the team in the basement of GW.

 We’ll keep an eye out for you guys this season…