If you read last week's Funny Guy Friday, you know that Matthew's team played in a baseball tournament at the beach last weekend.
Like most tournaments, a team will play three or four games, and based on the results of those games, that team will get seeded for the elimination round. Just as the name implies, if you lose in the elimination round, you go home. We had played in four tournaments already this year and had won two of them. Those tournaments were very appropriate for our level of play... good, but not the best of the best!
This tournament was an open tournament with teams with varying skill levels. We were going to see some very good teams.
We had a pretty difficult draw in the initial pool play and in our second game, we played a team from Beaver Valley. We learned a lot about Beaver Valley over the weekend. They draw players from three states... Pennsylvania, New York and Ohio. In comparison, we draw from about three square miles.
In all honesty, they were the best 12-year-old baseball team that I have ever seen. They were big, they were strong, they could hit and throw, and they were well-coached. I got a first-hand look at the size of these kids when they all came out to stand behind their coach at the umpire meeting at home plate. I had never seen a team do that before a game.
We played them on Thursday, and they beat us 25 to 1. And it wasn't as close a game as the score might indicate!
As I watched them hit bullets all over the field, I became concerned about my team's safety. This was the first time that I had ever participated in a game as a player or a coach where I was just happy that nobody got hurt too bad. The score did not matter. I was not encouraged by the score, but it did not matter. Our injury report was one bruised back, one bruised forearm and 13 bruised egos.
After all of the pool play was concluded on Saturday, we got the good news that we were the 8th and last-seeded team in the elimination round. Of course, we were playing the Beaver Vally gang that ripped through everyone on their way to the number-one seed. In all honesty, this was not the news that we wanted to hear, and some even questioned the wisdom of even showing up to play the game. We were tempting fate by sending these boys out in the line of fire for a second time. I was not sure that they were wrong, but when it comes right down to it... you have to play the game.
Somebody asked me my strategy and I decided that we would stall. Take our time between innings, make a few pitching changes, maybe a catching change or two, and several mound conferences. So many mound conferences that I might pull a hamstring on the way back to the dugout! There is a two-hour time limit on every game, so if I could stall for an hour of that, they would only be able to clobber us for an hour.
Saturday evening, before our Sunday game, we all got together at the home of one of our other coaches for a cookout and a pool party. The evening ended with a wiffle ball game in an open lot next to our hosts' home. I watched as each of our kids and their sisters and brothers took swings at that ball as it was lobbed across the plate. Some hit it well, but many did not. They all laughed and carried on.
This is when the idea for our game plan was hatched.
We have one pitcher, Nate, that throws a knuckle ball. Typically he throws pretty hard... but not hard enough to get it past the Beaver Valley boys. I pulled Nate aside and told him that tomorrow we are going to play a wiffle ball game. We will loft nothing but knuckle balls up to the plate, and if I call for a fastball, do not throw it for a strike. I don't care if we walk in ten runs, they are not going to jog around the bases all game. In an effort to convince myself this would work, I assured him that we were going to have fun.
Just like this wiffle ball game!
We were going to try and play a different kind of game this time. We were going to slow it down. Well, maybe not quite as I had joked earlier.
I also pulled Brian aside at the party. Brian is the smallest guy on our team. I told him that I wanted him to accompany me out to the umpires' meeting. Just he and I versus their coach and the 12 Jolly Green Giants. I thought it would make for a nice contrast.
I did not sleep very well that night. In fact, the air conditioner kept rattling the venetian blinds in the room where I was sleeping and made it sound as if it were raining outside. I remember thinking that a rain-out wouldn't be such a bad thing.
The drive to the park, in bright, sunny weather, was not pleasant. I kept thinking about the "fun" we were about to have, and kept hoping that we could just keep it close. The first time that we played, they threw two pitchers that threw gas, and I was sure that they had more of those kids just waiting for us in the elimination round.
As I walked to home plate, a second kid from our team, Alex, wanted to join us. Alex is skin and bones. What the heck, skinny also provides a nice contrast to these monsters. While talking to the other team's coach, he mentioned that they beat what everyone considered to be the second best team in the tournament 16 to 2 the day before. Yeah, they threw some kid that threw nothing but junk. We did not have much trouble with that. Also, I have still not used my two best pitchers.
Really, junk. Nothing but junk... what a bunch of idiots those coaches must be. By the way, do you consider knuckle balls to be junk?
As I walked back into the dugout, I gave the boys a little pre-game pep talk. This ain't no funeral boys, this is a wiffle ball game. We are the only team playing them, so we are the only ones that can beat them. We are not quitting, and we are not going away. Let's all have fun today... it is just a big wiffle ball game.
Let's see, nobody had thrown a pitch yet, and I had already mentioned a funeral and quitting. Not the most inspiring choice of words, but I don't think they really listen to my pre-game speeches anyway. But I will say this, I did feel a little bit better about the game. The kids seemed to buy into the whole wiffle ball game and having fun and were in pretty good spirits.
We hit in the top of the first inning and as expected, they had a kid that threw pretty hard. Probably not as hard as the first two kids that we had seen previously... but hard enough. He struck out the first three batters. Not the greatest start but I will say, the kids were up there swinging.
Then, it was their turn to hit. The lead off hitter walked. Okay, I understood that this could happen. Everyone, and by everyone I mean me, has to keep his cool and stick to the game plan.
The next hitter hit a soft line drive to the pitcher and we doubled off the runner at first. We got the third out and allowed no runs. IT WAS GAME ON!!!
After a scoreless second, we scored two runs in the third and three in the top of the fourth. A big hit by Anthony scored Brian D, who had walked and home runs by Kyle and Donovan led to the other runs.
And Nate's knuckle ball continued to keep them off balance. The old saying, Good hitting is good timing. Good pitching is screwing up that good timing, was never more on point. Defensively, we were outstanding. Our middle infield of Sean and Matthew, were all over the place making plays and saving runs. Clearly, Beaver Valley was frustrated.
Unfortunately, Beaver Valley is also very good.
The fourth inning had their hitters coming around to see the knuckle ball a second time. They became more patient and took better swings. They got a few runners on and hit two home runs to take a 6-5 lead into the fifth inning.
Their first base coach yelled that This is no Wiffle Ball game!
I thought to myself: he doesn't get it.
A funny thing was happening as we were going toe to toe with this team. People around the park knew how good their team was, and they were hearing that they were in a real dog fight. People started to come to our field to watch the game. Probably about a hundred-twenty people who had no dog in the fight.
We weren't done fighting.
In the top of the fifth, one of our young men, Camden, came up to bat with one out. Before this year, Camden had never really played on a competitive team. There were times when he really struggled because he had never seen quality pitchers before, and he had never really had coaches that expected him to play the game the correct way. A very good athlete, but it was all new to him. This tournament, with these pitchers, had been a real struggle for him.
With two strikes, Camden took one of his better swings and fouled a ball straight back. I was encouraged by the swing but thought that they are not going to throw that pitch again because he just missed it. They did throw it again, and this time he did not miss it. It cleared the center field fence to tie the game. Camden stopped running as he rounded first and started back to the dugout. Our first base coach yelled for him to run. As he rounded third he was still confused and asked what had happened. You hit it out; it is a home run. Make sure you touch home. I was taking nothing for granted.
Tie game. My only regret is that Camden couldn't enjoy his home run trot.
Our next hitter, Kyle, had homered earlier in the game. In fact, Kyle had no home runs all year and already had three in the tournament. What the heck, how about number four.
Back to back jacks!!!
Now we were up by one going into the bottom of the fifth.
It was crucial for us to keep the lead because I had no doubts that they were going to use one of their two best pitchers coming out to start the last inning. We had to hold them.
Unfortunately, we did not. They tied the game at seven, and, not surprisingly, they brought in one of the two big guns to pitch the sixth inning. He was as advertised. Big, strong and threw really hard. They had a speed count on the board and he was getting clocked in the 70's. Pretty hard to hit from 50 feet.
Just for statistical purposes, Nate's knuckle ball was getting clocked anywhere from 32 to 45 miles per hour.
The big boy retired the sides and now we had to hold them to send it into extra innings. Their lead-off hitter had struck out on two knuckle balls in his previous two at-bats. We got two strikes on him and the kid looked bad. I was pretty sure that Nate could sneak a fast ball by him, but I had fought the urge to call fastballs all day. In fact, he maybe only threw five or six the entire game. I told our catchers, Topher and Keaton, no fast balls and if I do call one, make sure it is out of the strike zone.
I did fight the urge to call the fastball, but I wish I had not. That kid hit a knuckle ball over the fence and we lost 8-7.
I have played that pitch over in my mind a hundred times. My only consolation is that had I called a fastball and the kid hit that pitch over the fence, I wouldn't sleep for a week.
Now here is the thing... we lost.
We were right there and we lost.
This would have been as big of an upset as you would ever see in sports. You may read this now and think that I am overstating what was going on. Maybe.
But I don't think so.
Despite that loss, I have never been prouder of a team that I have coached.
That Beaver Valley team wins national tournaments. They travel all over the country. They are full of huge 12-year-olds that throw in the 70 mph range along with snapping curve balls, and they are probably the best hitting team I have ever seen. And we were right there tied with them in the last inning. They kept bringing in kids to pitch and each one was better than the last.
For this game... we had Nate.
My buddy gave a great description of the game. We had the biggest fish in the sea on the line for two hours, and just as we were reeling it in, the line snapped. The only difference about this fish story is that there were about 120 people around to confirm it.
My guess is that the Beaver Valley boys may not remember much about that game, but a group of kids from South River will talk about the one that got away for some time.
A fish story that started out as a simple wiffle ball game.
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| Our boys in blue. Beaver Valley in red. |
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