I leave tomorrow morning. We have a light workout on the field tomorrow night. And we begin our full schedule Monday. I just got my final workout in. And I am going to begin packing now. The time has come to put away the crown and the cape and the gold jewelry and just be Nate Fish again– just one of the guys trying to make the team. It is time to shut-up and play baseball. Serious matters are at-hand. Guys will get hurt. Guys will get cut. For all I know, I may be one of them. Home-runs will be hit. There will be a winner. And there will be many losers. I know that I am ready, ready as I can be. And I thank you for joining me thus far. I will continue writing every day from Florida, letting you know what’s going on with the team and the tournament. For now, I will stop writing, I need to go the pharmacy for a big bottle of extra-strength Advil…
And now, ladies and geetles, I– nay, we, present to you, the single greatest achievement in recorded human history, a cinematic masterpiece, our generations Citizen Kane, except more important, more revolutionary, more daring, more impactful, and much, much better, an entire new genre if you will that we will likely not fully understand for many thousands of years, “Fake Superhero Sports Fantasy Tragi-Comedy Action Romantic Documentary” we will call it. Using only the power of magic and cameras and several geniuses including the one-and-only Shlomo Lipetz playing himself, a sick and criminal-minded warlord, Danny Dwyer aka The King of All Slovenian/Irish Filmmaking has accomplished what no other director in the hundred year history of moving pictures has been able to, that is, capturing the King of All Jewish Baseball on film. Until now, he was believed to be a myth, a fable, like Sasquatch, or maybe a hologram projected from room 403 of the Pentagon. But I digress, for it is now clear that he exists, and is more powerful than any of us could have imagined. Without further ado, The King Of Jewish Baseball, the film…
I had jury duty today. It is understandable that I, King of All Jewish Baseball, would be asked to judge the public and restore order to our society. But I don’t have time for this. I am in the throws of preparing for our trip to Jupiter. Thankfully, I was released at the end of the day and told I will not be asked to rule the land again in the form of jury duty for at least 8 years. But I will maintain, before moving on, after having spent so much time this summer in the holiest of holy governmental institutions– namely the DMV and the Kings County Courthouse – Where are the rich people?
Everyone at jury duty appeared to be poor, and not from America. Does Janet Jackson, as a citizen of the United States, dutifully serve on a jury of her peers every 8 years? Where, exactly, does Donald Trump go to renew his license?
Today, like at the DMV, it was like a poor-man’s (literally) United Nations. Granted, Brooklyn– New York City in general, is a diverse place– maybe the most diverse, but we the [poor and freshly arrived] people, always, not without irony, seem disproportionately represented at what can be society’s shittiest landmarks; hospitals, courts, the dreaded DMV.
We arrived at 8am and neatly and nervously shuffled through metal detectors into the jurors room on the 2nd floor, our holding pen, a cathedral to red tape, an ergonomically sound but unexciting wooden room the size of a high-school gym lined with rows of suprisingly comfortable leather seats and large TVs high on the walls. By mid-afternoon, just 6 hours later, what started out as a house of order, the very home of the well-oiled machinery of our justice system, looked more like a refugee camp, or the Springfield Bus Station. Exhausted with boredom, representatives from every nation on earth were sitting, laying, and propping themselves up against whatever they could find. A man slept on the floor under his seat using a copy the the New York Times as a pillow. A muslim woman sat against the wall staring at the ground probably wondering if she would ever get out of there and see her family again. A spontaneous black market had formed and Cheeze-Its from the 3rd floor vending machine were clandestinely being sold at 40 times their normal value. I was 107 pages into Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion, when my will finally gave-out and I joined the meek and went vertical on the bench I had been until then sitting on and I fell asleep for a bit.
Minutes, maybe hours, later, suddenly, without explanation, at 4pm, after a grueling day of waiting, the few of us still living, the survivors, were dismissed. I will say this, lastly, before moving on to matters of baseball and radio broadcasts, after witnessing the daily operations first-hand of our judicial system, I have no better understanding of it than I did before. Also like at the DMV, it seems to be the singular intention of those in-the-know, the people who work there (god bless ’em – it could not be easy), to control you with confusion and give you as little information as possible. I do not know why I was dismissed. I am just happy that it is so.
And now, onto things more relevant to this blog than civic duty: Baseball.
It is Tuesday, Sept. 4th. We congregate in Florida in 5 days. What I normally convey to you with words and images, that is, what is going on with the team and with my life, I will today share with you in the form of noises. Specifically, the audio from my radio appearance on Israel Sports Radio last week. And also the audio of Youk’s interview the week before where he announces towards the end that he will play for Team Israel in the 2013 WBC if we can win the qualifier. And also of Coach Green’s and Ausmus’ interviews on the same show. All told, nearly 2 hours of all the Jewish Baseball talk you can handle. Big thanks to the guys at “Louis Live” on Israel Sports Radio for the MP3’s.
It is I, King of All Jewish Baseball, commanding you to promote this blog.
KOJB over 4,000 readers. Radio appearance yesterday on Israel Sports Radio (will post audio shortly) http://www.israelsportsradio.com/, KOJB the film coming soon, and just over one week ’til camp. Join now as one nation, and solemnly swear to post this link on your facebook page. Play your bugles. Tweet from the mountain tops. Push to 1 million. And join Team Israel on our Journey to Jupiter. Together, we can do it!
I leave you with this motivational video, the King of Jewish Baseball Jingle, performed live by Nick Gehlfuss and none other than the King of Jewish Baseball himself in front of 100,000 screaming fans at Carnegie Hall just days ago.
Now go, rise and walk, my children, and be strong, for there are many battles yet to come.
I have to tell the coaches by September 1st– tomorrow really, if I can or cannot catch at camp. Around the same time I found out officially my knee was banged up, they coincidentally asked if I could catch instead of play infield. I told them I needed some time to figure out the knee-thing. That time has now passed – I have been on a diet of ice and Advil, and they need an answer.
This request has not been made under the assumption, though wholely correct, that I, King of All Jewish Baseball, can play any postions on the field by simply summoning the power of all life on earth through the careful manipulation of ancient eastern magic. I have caught before. For 3 years in college. 10 years ago.
So we are left with the question of questions, the question every man must answer before he becomes the King of All Jewish Baseball, the timeless query– To catch, or not to catch?
On one hand, if I can catch, my chances of making the team are much better.
On the other hand, I am a 32 year-old semi-professional blogger who hasn’t caught in 10 years with a bad knee.
Tough call.
What will save me will also destroy me. So what do I do? Do I knowingly seek self-destruction, kill myself a little to live, walk– nay, limp, one step closer to the edge? Or do I seek comfort, safety, self-preservation, and longevity?
what to do?
We got our daily schedules for the trip. We arrive, Sunday Sept. 9th, as you know. We’re on the field practicing and playing every day, usually for the whole day. Camp is from the 9th-19th. Games are from the 19th – 23rd.
We’re training and playing at Roger Dean Stadium.
roger dean stadium at night
the fields at roger dean
Roger Dean Stadium is the Spring Training facility of the Miami Marlins and The St. Louis Cardinals. It will be nice to have all the amenities Big Leaguers enjoy even if it’s only for 2 weeks. 2 weeks! – That’s all. 8 Months training. All for 2 weeks. Even more accurately, for 4 days. And even more accurately, for 4 days I am not guaranteed. Not even close. Can I catch?
Of course I can catch. I think. I will try. No problem.
So now, just before leaving, I need to change my training and thinking. I am a catcher, now, again. I ran and did tee work this morning. Going to Richies Gym in a bit. Gotta work on poppin’ those feet. 10 days ’til camp.
My seasons for both the Thunder Dogs and the A’s are over. Both teams were eliminated early in the playoffs of their respective leagues. But I will leave you with this memory of the Zorrilla, an incident that happened in my final game with the A’s.
We, the Oakland A’s of East New York, had a double header against the Chicago Cubs, also of East New York. We were in 3rd place. Cubs were in 1st. But if we could win both games, we’d switch places with them and be in 1st going into the playoffs.
It looked like rain.
They won the 1st game. And they were winning the 2nd game 3-0 in the 5th inning in a drizzle. We had runners on 1st and 3rd, 2 outs, none other than the King of Jewish Baseball at the plate with a chance to tie the game or at least score a run and cut down the lead. A genius base-knock, single up the middle, run scored, they’re winning, 3-1.
Now I am on 1st base. Our center fielder is on 2nd. Orlando aka Babe Ruth is up. He crushes a ball down the left field line. I start jogging, a no-doubter. We’re winning 4-3. Right?
Their dugout screams in Spanish that it was a foul ball. By the time I get around the bases to home plate, everyone’s there– both teams, coaches, umps.
Their head coach who looks like a Somali Pirate as you’ll see, goes nuts on the 3rd base umpire who called it a home-run. The umpire ejects the coach. The Pirate is ferocious and is, if half-heartedly, going after the ump. Their assistant coaches and their catcher hold him back.
Minutes pass.
He persists.
He throws a punch at his own assistant. After trying and failing over and over again to physically get to the ump, their coach walks down the left field line and tips all the temporary barriers that keep the fans off the field and disappears into the street behind the bathrooms.
I did not think order would ever be restored. But somehow, after 15 minutes, both teams return to their dugouts, and the game is back on.
Jose Reyes is up. 1st pitch curveball. Strike 1.
After the pitch, their assistant coach takes all of the bats and all of the helmets in their dugout and kicks them and even picks some up and throws them.
The home plate umpire ejects him. The first coach, the Pirate, comes running back on the field with a garbage can over his head and throws the can behind 3rd base. There is garbage everywhere. All players and coaches and some fans now pour back onto the field. It’s people restraining people from other people restaining people. It is madness, a battlefield the likes I have not witnesses since the Great Collision of Tel Aviv in 2007.
But I digress, for after checking the magical YouTube, I, King of All Jewish Baseball, deem this, what will be known going forward as THE EJECTION, or THE GREATEST EJECTION OF ALL TIMES, abbreviated simply GEAT (pronounced JEET), a grade A, world-class tirade of genius magnitude.
We are lucky to have had the King, Ruler, and Sovereign Leader of The Softball Team The Shatters, Aaron Wolfe www.aaron-wolfe.com, in attendance, bravely huddled under an umbrella, risking his camera in the name of a possible outburst. It is true what they say, if a picture is worth a thousand words, then a video, which is literally just thousands of pictures, is worth, if my calculations are correct, yes, they are, 1.3 million photographs. So, without further use of many more words, exclusively from the King of Jewish Baseball, in accordance with the King, Ruler, and Sovereign Leader of The Softball Team The Shatters, we bring you, THE EJECTION. That’s me on 1st base!
We apologize and warn you about the face-to-face contact you are about to have with the King of All Jewish Baseball, for it has been known to cause blindness. It was not his intention to interfere or put your health at risk, he simply lost his head momentarily and spoke directly to the camera trying to provide commentary as is his habit. And we beg of you just one more consideration… Keep in mind the video is two minutes. The actual delay was thirty. High theater with an overhand garbage can toss finish (you see the can at the end of the video).
Roll it…
But, alas, we lost both games.
One of their guys hit an almost identical 2 run-homer down the left field line tying the game, 5-5.
What seems like hours later, still drizzling, we’re in the bottom of the 10th inning of game 2. They have 2 runners on base. Ray divises an elaborate bunt coverage. But it does not matter. Bunt goes back to the pitcher. I roll to the ground to get out of the way to give him a throwing lane to Ray covering 3rd base. Pitcher mishandles the ball, rushes a throw to 1st base, throws it into right field, runner from 2nd base scores, game over.
My final thought on the Zorrilla, after this incident, and after the season, is that the winning the Zorrilla means something. There is a sense, even if false or somewhat inflated, that the games are important. And so they are. Our second baseman made and error in the first game that cost us two runs and was benched. And our manager was fired after the game because we lost both.
Just as the winning run scored, the rain came down from the sky above, and everyone ran for their cars.
And that’s how it ended, suddenly, without discussion.
I got home from Chicago yesterday. Another great trip for the King of Jewish Baseball and Savvy Traveling– six days of Magic and Jewish Baseball tryouts. It was my second annual unofficial appearance at the Chicago Air and Boat Show. I spent mornings wrapped in babies, afternoons betting wildly at the Chicago Board of Trade or racing boats on Lake Michigan, and nights with fighter pilots swapping stories about what it’s like being one of the most dangerous men on the planet.
boat racing
The real reason for my being in Chicago, besides the general recognition and celebration of all things, were team Jew.S.A. tryouts. It was the midwest addition on Sunday, 10am, at Glennbrook High School about half an hour north of the City. 15 kids came from as far away as Kansas City, Florida, and California. New York tryouts this weekend. Then the roster for the United States Junior National Team for the 2013 Maccabi Games will be set and ready to rock. We seek gold in 2013.
Saw Youkilis too in his temporary home, his hotel room. The White Sox had flown in from Kansas City still in 1st place in the AL Central despite the Royals sweep. Youkilis, King of All Batting Stances, seems to like it in Chicago. We went to the game the next night to see him play against the Yankees.
youk in the dugout
He was 1 for 4 with a single and hit-by-pitch. Chamberlain hit him, again. Being a baseball genius, you can hear me say in the video below, “Watch for the hit-by-pitch here”. And in the 2nd pitch of the at-bat, boom, he hit him.
I will not say it was on purpose. It was a bad time to hit a guy. It was a tie game, 6-6, in the 7th inning, 1 out, no one on base, Dunn and Konerko coming up. But I will say, Major League pitchers do not miss that badly that often and Chamberlain has hit or almost hit Kevin a lot.
The videos are short, just a few seconds. And they are not great. The first video is Strike 1. And the second is the hit-by-pitch. Strike 1 is a slider. The HBP is a fastball. Roll strike 1…
And then… Listen, Joe calls it.
We apologize in advance for the abrupt ending. We got a little fired up.
Then Chamberlain threw over to first base twice to either give a guy in the bullpen time to warm-up, or to continue f—— with Kevin. Girardi agreed it was a bad time, and came out of the dugout and took Chamberlain out of the game. It is unusual to see someone removed after throwing a pick-off.
Kevin hit a go-ahead grand-slam the following game.
***
And now, after momentarily being swept away by the drama of the Major Leagues, the love of a million babies, and the majesty of a clean city and its airplane tricks, I am back, back in new york, on the grind, pounding the pavement, baseball bag in tow, causing problems on the trains, preaching the gospel in the streets, as it were. I worked out today with Shlo and Alon.
alon leichman
Alon will be at camp too. He, like Shlo, is a right handed pitcher. And is, also like Shlo, Israeli. He is currently playing baseball at Cypress Community College in California, and is the best player to come out of Israel yet. He just finished his season playing for the Menlo Park Legends in a summer collegiate league in San Fransisico. Here is a recent article about him. Keep in mind, Alon is great, the writing is not. Clearly, not everyone can be a deadly literary weapon like myself.
In Chicago. It’s Saturday. Tryouts for Team Jew.S.A. tomorrow morning.
I saw Alfred “Fredo” Cohen for breakfast this morning. Alfred, besides the inconsequential fact that he does not make art, is, in my humble and completely accurate estimation, an artist of the highest order– The King of All Logo Chairs and Self Portraits if you will. When I saw him last year, he had without explanation been wearing only florescent green for months. So allow me, ladies and juju-bugs, to now, using only the power of digital photography and the interconnectedness of all things, profile for you the one, the only, Alfred Cohen.
alfred cohen, yesterday, on a boat, at the annual chicago air show
Alfred comes from a long line of magical russian cantors, Jewish singers, synagogue divas so to speak– 5 generations long until Alfred broke the streak electing to instead become a ballplayer, and a human genius. He was raised in Highland Park, an affluent Jewish neighborhood just north of Chicago. By the time he was in high-school, his baseball talents were shining like the multiple suns of a parallel earth from another dimension. He was dominating.
alfred flying high
And another…
fredo pitching, looks good, blocked front side, late rotation with the lower half
By his senior year, he was in a dog fight for the city batting title with this guy, Randy Poffo. If you look just to the right of the picture of Poffo, you can see under “individual batting”, they are #1 and #2.
randy poffo
Fredo ended the season with the higher average. Poffo went on to play for the Reds…
poffo with the reds
But Poffo didn’t last in pro baseball and had no choice but to change his name, answer the primal call of destiny, and become this guy…
randy poffo aka the macho man randy savage
Insane Hard To Believe But True Jewish Baseball Magic Fact of The Day… The Macho Man Randy Savage was Jewish. Look it up.
Alfred got a baseball scholarship to the University of Arizona. But, like Poffo, and so many of us, the Big Leagues weren’t in the cards for Al, so after college he returned home to Chicago, got married, and invented logo chairs. That’s right, the genius Alfred Cohen had unknowingly become the first person to ever put a team logo on a fold-out-chair and ended up supplying the NBA and NCAA with customized sideline chairs for years, a scientific accomplishment no doubt on-par with the theories of Relativity or Evolution.
one of alfred’s logo chairs
I will leave you with a sampling of what may be Alfred’s greatest, most mature work, his self portraits, pictures he takes of himself in front of the worlds most beautiful buildings and women and sunsets and sports stars. I could not show you all of them, for you do not have the time or mental prowess it would take to understand a body of work so profound and powerful and strange. But here are a few, a reminder if you will, so no matter how hard your days or lonely your nights, you will be comforted knowing the genius Alfred Cohen, King of All Logo Chairs and Self Portraits, is out there, pure of heart and unsound of mind, protecting us all.
at a white sox game
at a wedding
at maccabi games opening ceremonies
a beautiful sunset
going strong, forever, alfred cohen, riding in the back of a taxi
It’s Wednesday August 15th. I am flying to Chicago in a couple of hours. We have midwest tryouts for Team Jew.S.A. on Sunday, so I am going a few days early to see friends.
Good news… KOJB skyrockets over 3,ooo readers yesterday. Only 996,968 hits away from a million! Let’s pump this thing up. You. Me. Us. Together. Follow KOJB on twitter @kingofJbaseball.
Bad news… went to physical therapy yesterday and they think I have a meniscus tear in my right knee.
We all have two menisci in each knee, or a total of four, as you see above– the blue “c” shaped discs– a lateral meniscus, and a medial meniscus. It is my lateral, or outside, meniscus on my right knee. The menisci are essentially pads between bones so they’re not rubbing against one another. This sort of sucks, but goes mostly without meaning. I maintain that I cannot be stopped. I don’t have anything to preserve myself for. If I were younger, maybe I would rest, or get surgery. But, alas, I am not, so I’m simply going to proceed as if nothing were wrong. Fact remains, we have a baseball tournament to win in Florida in a few weeks. In the meantime, have to go to Richie’s to lift before my flight.
We again thank you for your interest in joining Team Israel in the World Baseball Classic Qualifier in Jupiter Florida. MLB has now asked us to provide objective proof of your eligibility to be part of Team Israel, in addition to the affidavit that we asked you to fill out. As you are aware, your eligibility stems from the ‘heritage’ rule. Because of your Jewish heritage you are eligible to be a member of Team Israel.
The tournament committee is requiring an objective document to verify your Jewish heritage. This process is the same for all teams who have players whose eligibility is a result of the heritage rule. For example a US citizen who wishes to play for the Spanish team must produce a document that proves that his parent or grandparent was a Spanish citizen.
In your case we must prove that you are Jewish,or your parent or grandparent is/was Jewish. We will need one or more of the following documents from you:
A Bar Mitzvah certificate given to you or your Jewish parent or grandparent.
A ketubah (wedding contract) for you, your parents or grandparents.
A letter from the rabbi or community leader of your local synagogue or other Jewish organization (e.g. JCC, college Hillel).
Another form of written objective proof.
We thank you again for your cooperation and timely response to this request. Your eligibility to participate in this tournament is dependent upon procuring one of these documents.
***
What’s this? The King of Jewish Baseball’s Jewishness being questioned?
The community is outraged.
I happened to be at my parents house (aka the “synagogue”, or the holy shrine to Judaism), so decided to take a moment to ponder, what makes a Jew? And dig up, for Major League Baseball, if that is your real name, some proof. Before I begin, allow me to state my full name.
Nathan Israel Bloomberg Fish.
Here is a picture of me and my sister, Hadassah Naomi Fish, on the cover of our parents Childrens Judaica Catalogue, Mail Order Maven. A very popular genre.
dasi fish and nate fish aka the king of all jewish baseball circa 1982
Now what type of non-Jews in their right minds would be walking around doing that!? We either are Jewish, or I am an unknowing participant in an elaborate, pointless con.
The document specifically asks for a ketubah, a Jewish marriage certificate. So let’s get that.
one sweet ketubah!
Now, the people from the document above, brought to life using only the power of the internet and the mind of a genius, landies and geetles, my mom and dad.
Check the Shnoz, MLB.
Should I even continue?
Yes. I should.
Here he is at his Bar-Mitzvah.
Jerome Phillip Fish, age 13
My mom, aka the mind behind the scheme, raised us jewish and covered our home with Jewish literature and art in order for me to one day play for Israel in the World Baseball Classic. She went to Brandeis University and worked diligently for the Jewish Community. And to think, all in order to deceive us! You are looking at a sick, devious, genius, people.
i see clearly now, the prop mug has been a lie all along
I will spare you most of the tour and will just tell you the whole house looks like this…
so jewish it hurts
Here I am rocking the mic at my Bar Mitzvah August 14th 1993 also known as, “the day the King of Jewish Baseball descended on a charriot of fire”.
