The College World Series - Embodying the Magic of Baseball

Good morning, folks... I want to preface this note with a disclaimer, and possibly an apology. I go through phases in my life where I love to write, and find that writing is really the only effective medium through which I can set the thought conundrums in my brain loose on the world. My musings are very random, and rarely of any deep consequence, but it's the stuff I think about. My brain is much like a Seinfeld episode: full of thoughts about nothing. And whether anyone actually reads my writing or not, it's a stress reducer for me and a whole lot of fun.

Well, as a result of talking with my friend Brice on the way back from the Astros/Rangers game the other night, I have felt the inspiration to write/journal/blog (whatever you want to call it) once again. So, in accordance with good ethics and due diligence, I inform, warn, and apologize to you for the random ramblings that ensue. Now, on to more exciting things...

Anyone that knows me even a little knows about my love affair with the game of baseball. I simply can't put into words the allure, intrigue, fascination and even therapy that baseball continually gives me year in and year out. Little League, High School, College, Minors, Majors... it doesn't matter. It's all baseball, it's all magical, and it's the greatest game on the planet. However, nothing to me embodies the supernatural allure of baseball more than the College World Series. Let me explain...

For roughly ten days in June and/or July, the top 8 college baseball teams in the nation meet in Omaha on the hallowed grounds of Rosenblatt Stadium to duke it out ON THE FIELD (please take note, FOOTBALL) and determine who will wear the crown of National Champion. These 8 teams, having survived a 4-team Regional Tournament and a 2-Team Super Regional to get to this point, have earned the right to take the field on a national stage, at the mecca of college baseball. I can only imagine the thrill of taking that field for the first time... the sounds, the smells, the feel of the grass under your feet, the flags waving in the outfield... truly an opportunity of a lifetime.

All of this is but a table setting for the battles to come, and like in any contest, the thrill of competition is in the competition itself. By the onset of the College World Series, the Major League Baseball Draft has occurred. All the players that will be drafted have been drafted at this point, and these guys have nothing to play for other than school pride, their teammates, their coaches, and the pure thrill of competing at a high level to gain a prize so few attain.

As I sat watching Arkansas and Virginia play in an elimination game last night, I couldn't help but get caught up in it. It was a classic pitcher's duel, and though I really didn't have a dog in the hunt, it was just damn good baseball. Arkansas trailed 3-1 going into the top of the 9th. After 2 weak groundouts, they were down to their last shot. That's when the wheels came off for Virginia.

After Zack Cox singled to center, Brett Eibner launched a no-doubter to left-center on a 1-1 pitch, tying the game. Despite putting base runners in scoring position in the bottom of the 9th, 10th, 11th, and 12th innings, Virginia came up empty each time. The Hogs got the win on an RBI double by Andrew Darr in the top of the 12th, culminating in a dramatic comeback, and capping off one of the most fascinating games I've ever watched.

It was there and then last night on my couch at 11:00 that I decided that I'm going to Omaha next year, even if I have to hitch-hike. You see, 2010 is the last year that the CWS will be held in Rosenblatt Stadium, as it will be giving way to a new multi-million dollar facility with increased capacity, improved amenities, and all that junk that fans think they are entitled to these days. Well, not me. In my humble but accurate opinion, even though it will still be the greatest sporting event in the country to me, the CWS will lose some of its luster without Rosenblatt in the equation. And honestly, I'm not going to miss this opportunity to experience the end of a legacy first-hand.

So, even though my Bears being there next year would be a fairytale come true, I'm going with or without 'em. Next year, from June 19 - 30, you can reach me in Omaha. I'll be getting my dose of therapy. - B

What a Night of Baseball!

I have to share an extremely cool experience I had last night. In fact, I would have to say that this is my best first-hand baseball experience to date. Keep reading to find out why...

My wife and I were without kids last night, and decided in a crazy moment of spontaneity to drive to Round Rock and eat at Joe's Crab Shack. Well, on the way, Kim looked and me and said, "I wonder if the Express are playing tonight?" I have to give some kudos to my wife here. How many women do you know of that would suggest that we go to a baseball game on a date? I absolutely LOVE that woman!

For those of you who don't know, the Round Rock Express is the Houston Astros' Triple A affiliate in the Pacific Coast League. Since these guys are only one step away from the Big Show, it's a pretty good brand of baseball and a darn good bargain at $12/ticket for seats right behind the first base dugout. Kim called the Express office and sure enough, they had a 7:05 home game against the Nashville Sounds.

After eating dinner, we went to the game and had a great time. The Dell Diamond, where the Express play, is a great game atmosphere. I won't go into details because it would take a while, but if you ever get a chance, GO. On a side note, I was pleased to see that Mark Saccomanno, an ex-Baylor Bear, was starting first baseman for the Express. Good to see our Baylor boys doing well.

Well about the 5th inning, the score was 1-0 Nashville. Kim looked over to me and said, "That guy's pitching a no-hitter." She was referring to Manny Parra, who was making only his second Triple A start. Well, as I began to try to remember the previous four innings, I realized that not only was he pitching a no-no, he was pitching a perfect game. No walks, no hit batters, no errors, no base runners for the Express all night long.

As the game progressed and Parra continued to systematically retire Round Rock batters in order every inning, the buzz began to grow among the crowd. The tension noticeably heightened every inning as everyone began to think it might be possible.

When Parra came out of the dugout for the ninth inning, he received an ovation from the Round Rock crowd as you could feel that even the Express faithful were pulling for this kid. He retired the first two batters, and when pinch-hitter Jesse Garcia came to the plate, the entire stadium rose to their feet. At that point, the game of baseball became bigger than any team allegiance.

Garcia served up a broken-bat popup to first, inciting a mob at the mound and ending the single most dominant pitching performance I've ever personally witnessed. A perfect game at any level is an unbelievable accomplishment, and something I'll remember always.

Just for all of you fellow baseball geeks like me, here are some numbers that show just how dominant this pitching performance was. In just his second Triple A start, Parra faced the minimum 27 batters, striking out 11. The left-hander threw 107 pitches, 77 of which were strikes, the other 30 "were deemed to be balls", as Larry Little would say. Parra only fell to a 3-ball count three times in the whole game, the first of which didn't occur until the seventh inning.

Parra's achievement was only the third nine-inning perfect game in the 104-year history of the Pacific Coast League. Simply AWESOME.

What the Heck?!?!?

Okay, I have to vent a little bit about an experience I had this morning. I was walking in to the Starbucks in the Dutton garage in my usual pre-coffee haze. As I was going in, a young lady was walking out of the door, and as my father always taught me, I grabbed the door for her to hold it. I smiled and said "Good Morning", and what happened next just blew me away. Not only did she not smile back... not only did she not say "Good Morning"... SHE ROLLED HER EYES AT ME!!!!

What the heck is that all about? Ignoring me isn't rude enough, so you have to insult me too? What is this world coming to? Haven't we learned yet what a little bit of kindness can do?

So, I urge all of you to BE KIND. Geez, it's not that hard. Next time some ugly dude like me says "Hello" or "Good Morning", just say it back. It won't kill you.

It Was a Fun Ride, Bears...

I have to shoot out some props to the Baylor Baseball Team and their very impressive run at the end of the season. Although their season ended on Sunday with a very painful loss to TCU, the improvement that this young team made toward the end of the season is quite remarkable.

The week before the K-State series, everyone had given them up for dead. Their appearance in the Big 12 Tournament was in doubt (which would be the first time in the history of the conference), and the post-season future looked very dim.

Well, not only did they sweep the K-State series, but they made the Big 12 Tournament title game, and in the process raised their RPI to 23, wrapping up a NCAA regional berth at Rice's Reckling Park in Houston. Stephen and I went down to Houston to see the games, and had a blast. As I've said before, the ballpark (any ballpark) is therapeutic for me, and it was so much fun to get lost in the world of baseball with my son for 3 days.

So, congratulations to Coach Smith and the Bears on what I feel is over-achievement for this young team, and with most of the starting lineup returning next year, we've got a lot to look forward to. Sic 'Em, Bears!!!!

A Cold, Hard Dose of Perspective

Well, it happens to me every once in a while, and it happened last night. Every so often, the Lord decides to give me a healthy dose of perspective. Some are more monumental than others, some are more life-altering than others, but one thing they all have as a common thread is to get me to re-focus on what's important in a particular area of my life.

I have to preface this story by giving a little background. For the last 5 years, I have coached my son, Stephen, in Little League. In my opinion, baseball is the greatest game on the planet, bar none. Even though I'm AD/HD, I don't mind that it's a slow game. In fact, I think anyone who truly understands baseball respects the gamesmanship and strategy that makes it a slow game. I live by the clock every day of my life, so it's a relief, even therapy, for me to go to the ballpark and revel in a competition that is not bound by the constraints of time. That, however, is another topic altogether.

I count it a privilege to teach this game that I love so much to the next generation, so I stay determined year after year to make baseball a positive experience for the boys that I'm entrusted with. I have always treated each and every kid with respect and encouragement, and feel that after each game and after each practice that these guys need to leave the field feeling better about themselves than they did before. Our kids get beat down enough by their peers and society in general, and they shouldn't get it from their Little League coach.

However, I like to win. I LOVE to win. Winning is fun. Losing is not so fun, or so I thought until last night. In our previous 4 years, the other dads that I've coached with and I have gotten our share of wins. We've never gone undefeated, but we've always been middle of the pack at least, and even won a divisional championship last year. But alas, this year has been DREADFUL in the win/loss department. We currently sit at 0-11, with 3 left to play. My frustration and desperation has been growing steadily with each loss, and I have beaten myself up mercilessly over our putrid record.

My parents this year have been AWESOME. They have been so encouraging and supportive, and for that I will be forever grateful. But I know that it's frustrating to come to each game and leave with yet another loss. We've come close, and the Dirtbags have played their hearts out, but we just seem to come up short.

Our game last night had every semblance of being the same. We were playing the #1 team in the league, and while I wasn't conceding a loss, I saw this as an opportunity to play some kids in positions that they've never played before, namely pitcher. I went into the game with the plan of using a different pitcher every inning, two of which had never pitched before.

Well needless to say, the game pretty much went as expected. They pitched their ace, which held us to no runs in two innings, while they scored the maximum allowed (6 per) in the same two innings. Down 12-0, I felt myself slipping into the same melancholy that had accompanied every contest to this point.

But then something happened. Not to overdramatize this, but I went over the dugout, and took a long look at this group of boys that I've been preaching at all year to play like champions and play with heart. Amid my bad mood, I looked and saw these guys smiling. SMILING. At 12-0! What do they have to smile about? Then it dawned on me: these guys were HAVING FUN. They were laughing and joking and cheering on their teammates.

My whole perspective changed. These 8 and 9 year old boys, while disappointed that they were losing, were having a BLAST playing the game that I love so much. As the game progressed, we made a run in the last two innings, scoring 9 runs. We had our bleachers full of parents and fans, cheering wildly for each of our guys that crossed the plate. Every member of our team high-fived and cheered each player as they returned to the dugout. I was simply speechless.

We came up short on the scoreboard, but I've never seen a bigger group of winners in my life. They never gave up, and left that field knowing that they laid it all out. I gave game balls to the two pitchers who have never pitched in a game before, and the look in their eyes and the smiles on their faces made me realize once again why I do this every year.

I was reminded once again that baseball's not about us coaches, wins and losses, or even the league. It's about life lessons that are taught by those boys that left the field last night with a glint in their eye and a smile on their faces, knowing that they played like CHAMPIONS.