biding my time

It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops.

                                                      A. Bartlett Giamatti ~ The Green Fields of The Mind

With the dust settled on the 2010 baseball season I have struggled to add purpose and meaning to my life. Much like banging your head against a wall, it hurts not to have baseball around. All this talk of free agents, arbitration, and winter meetings is doing little for me. All talk. No action. It is not disguising the fact that there are still over 3 months until it begins all over again. Alas, life goes on. Or so I'm told. I must do something to  bide my time. Give me a moment to think about this...

OK. My thinking grenades are used up. This off-season I could:

1. Grow A Mo. 
In the spirit of MOvember I could grow a moustache. Like this man, Rollie Fingers.
Ya, no. While I am all for supporting charitable causes, my stache would indeed be trash.

 2. Learn to do The Dougie
Ya, still no.



3. Run. 
OK, getting warmer. I like to do this. It hurts, but I like it. We might be on to something.

4. Eat food. 
Warmer still. I like to do this. A. Lot.




5. Come up with my own cologne. 
It worked for Gustavo Chacin.

6. Blog more. 


7. Pen a Sonnet. HUH?!


Only 7 things to do over the next 3 months. It's going to be a long off-season.






  

World Series Pumpkins

This is something I started a few years ago - Carving pumpkins of the teams that are in the World Series for Halloween.
Here is the collection to date...

 2011
St Louis Cardinals vs Texas Rangers











2010 World Series
San Francisco Giants vs Texas Rangers

2009 World Series
New York Yankees vs Philadelphia Phillies

2008 World Series
Tampa Bay Rays vs Philadelphia Phillies

2007 World Series
Boston Red Sox vs Colorado Rockies

2006 World Series
St Louis Cardinals

iRun

This time of year marks an anniversary of sorts for me. It was about two years ago that I became a runner. It was not so much out of a yearning desire to push my body to the point that everything hurts but more a matter of not wanting to have to shop at Northern Reflections.

My progression towards XL Nate was slow and gradual as most can attest to. The weight gain creeps up on you. Sure their were spurts of consistency at the gym, but they were too often offset by greater periods of consistency on the couch. Couple that with a lack of proper rehab from surgeries to both my elbow and shoulder and the number on the scale read more like my career batting average (also bad). It was the fall of 2008 that I had booked surgery #3 for my shoulder and knew that if things progressed I was soon going to be making calls to Prince Fielder's tailor. Something had to be done.

 With surgery I've come to learn, it's not so much the procedure itself, but your dedication to the rehabilitation afterwards that dictates the effectiveness of it. I knew there would be months afterward where physical activity would be reduced to a minimum while I healed. In order to prep for this, my plan of attack became getting myself in the best shape possible whereby I could afford to eat bonbons on the couch. I had roughly 8 months to do it in. So, I signed up for the Mississauga Half Marathon. Daunting? Yes. Impossible for me in my then present shape? Somewhat.

At first it was a goal I kept to myself. However, being a reasonably self-aware person I knew that if it remained a private thing I'd return back down the mountain I'd set out to climb. So, I started telling friends and family, one by one. Accountability. It was then that this goal became that much more tangible. It's much easier to let yourself down than it is those around you.

Eight months later race day had finally come. The hours in the gym, kilometres on the road, and forgoing of Baconators had paid off. I had lost 40lbs in the process. I was ready, yet nervous. I don't remember sleeping much the night before. Maybe 2 hours at the most. If memory serves, it was around the 14km mark that the running became more mental than it did physical. Physical preparation is one thing. Mental prep is a whole different ball of wax. Without ever having done a race of this length before I didn't know how to mentally prepare for it beyond saying "I think I can, I think  can, I think can." My legs started to feel heavy and I could feel some of my toes going numb. I was buoyed by reminding myself that with each plodding step the distance I had run grew greater while the distance I had yet to go shrank. And roughly 2 hours later it was all over. I crossed the finish line in almost exactly the time I figured I would. I was happy.

  To think of myself as a runner is still weird. Being asked for advice about it even more weird. I come from a baseball backround. Baseball players run in 90 ft bursts. I try to help out others where I can with the disclaimer that I am by no means fleet afoot. In fact, there are very few things in this life that I do at a high rate of speed. Nonetheless, running will always be a part of who I am now. Certainly not to the degree that baseball is, but still a part.

come to my window

Some months ago when I started this blogging experience I wasn't totally sure what I was getting into. I saw it more as a diary of the team I coached this past summer with tidbits of my personal experiences in baseball intertwined. The stories came easily because there was so much we did together and accomplished as a team. But alas, that chapter of our lives is now complete. I knew it would be limited in scope, but didn't care - these boys had a story that deserved to be told. I wanted it to not only be readable but relatable. I wanted you, the reader, to in some way, feel like you were a part of the team.

As best I could I wanted to stay away from reporting on events within the broader game of baseball if they had no connection to me. This is your window into my life. You might be saying though, that the blinds on said window seem only half rolled up because when you look through it all you see is a room full of baseballs. There has to be more to me. I can assure you that I do have other interests. I like stuff and I do things.

Soon enough, this window will become a frosty pane of glass with the coming winter months. Other than longing for the beginning of spring training the stories of me and baseball will be largely dried up. Frozen over if you will. Where I go from here I'm not too sure (I've come full circle). Baseball will always be a part of my life, that is for certain. It has been said that there is always a story you just have to look for it. While that may be true, I'm not looking for just a story. I'm looking for a story about me to you.

The Bullpen Gospels

I'd wondered all year how the power of baseball should be wielded. And now I knew. Baseball doesn't have any intrinsic power. It only has what people give to it. For some the man who plays is a superhero, and he can do great things. For some, the man who plays is an obstacle who must get out of the way. Is baseball as important as food, knowledge, care, or a dry pair of boots? Is it as important as some of the things that pass us by in everyday life? I don't think so. Can it inspire, motivate, and call us to do something greater than ourselves? Absolutely. The burden of the player isn't to achieve greatness, but to give the feeling of it to everyone he encounters. It was wrong of me even to try to separate life and the game. They were intertwined, meant to be, one affecting the other, one teaching the other, even when the mixture occasionally blows up.

*an excerpt from the book

The Bullpen Gospels

Dirk Hayhurst

a new Motley Crue

Out with the old and in with the new. And in the case of the 2011 Ancaster Cardinals it will be lots of new. With only two returning players we will be a different team with a different identity. Wednesday night was our second workout of hopefuls for next year.

Sitting there watching the kids play in an intrasquad game, I was reminded of last year when we began this exact same process in very similar weather conditions (re: COLD). We alternated between trying to keep warm and biting our nails wondering how things would evolve for the (then) coming Canadian Championships. Needless to say that version of the Cardinals did their coaches, their parents, and their community proud with a berth in the finals.

Last week, for a brief moment, I was taken back to that week in August when one of the boys hit a homerun in practice. I've said before that nothing tops the experience of a homerun in Little League. Of course there wasn't the people on the surrounding hill applauding or the crowd of teammates waiting for him at home plate, but it was still drew "oohs," "aahs," and smiles all around. That is what separates Little League baseball from all other levels of baseball - the way every achievement is lauded by onlookers.

What 2011 holds remains to be seen, but I'm confident that next summer will be filled with its own collection of unforgettable moments just as this summer was.

if these walls could talk

Ghost stories - everyone seems to have one, be they induced by mind expanding hallucinogens or a real life encounter.  Whatever the case may be I apparently am in the minority here. I have never caused my neurotransmitters to fire at such a rate that I see a herd of angry elephants charging toward me in my sleep. Nor have I had an encounter with the unexplained. What I can tell you about, though, is the feeling I get when I see this image (inset). You might be surprised to learn that this isn't a picture of the SkyDome..errr... Rogers Centre. The atmosphere created by stepping into both parks in their current state might be somewhat similar though. Rogers Mahal is a tribute to the way were in the 80's when bigger was a better. Essentially it is a monument to excess where now parks are built with the intent of building the very atmosphere that it seems to lack.

When I see this image of this diamond I think if these outfield walls could talk, oh the stories they would tell. I've wondered the very same thing when I've visited other parks around the league. I've stood and thought about who played their before or who walked the dugout tunnels. But I rarely do that when I enter the Rogers Centre. Obviously it does have its history, I'm not trying to discredit that. It has played host to some truly memorable baseball moments. And football moments. And soccer moments. And wrestling moments. And musical moments. And car moments. I think you understand what I'm getting at. It is a venue at best and a tourist attraction, not a baseball stadium in the ilk of Wrigley Field or Fenway Park.


image courtesy of:
www.baseballpilgramages.com

my summer vacation

All of us can remember this essay at some point in our scholastic careers - How I Spent My Summer Vacation. And by now you've got a good handle on how I spent my summer vacation.

With kids begrudgingly back into the routine of school the thought occurred to me the other day why don't they ever ask you how you spent any other season? My default argument is that it's because baseball doesn't really happen during any other season. I will also argue that the Canadian summer is a unique experience. We see it coming with the first spring thaw and begin the countdown at March Break. Others hedge their hopes of a shortened winter on a chubby weather prognosticating rodent, Wiarton Willie.  Summer for us doesn't begin in June. It begins with the first 3 consecutive days above 10C. Regardless of when it happens. And if that happens to be in April? Giggity. It just became patio season. Spring does not exist in Canada. It is a fictional season brought to you by The GAP. Buy our clothes! Wear them for two weeks! Now pack them into the far reaches of your closet!

For two, maybe three months, or however long Mother Nature sees fit, we are afforded some time to ditch the toques and watch... ummm... baseball?? Then just as quickly as it comes, it goes. We then retreat to our igloos to sip double-doubles and watch Ron and Don wax political about the European invasion. On that note I give you this, one more time, because it is still oh so good...

 


Anyway, where was I? Oh yes - My summer solstice. Think for a second. Save for Christmas no one ever asked you how any other season went. Did you ever have to pen an essay entitled How I Spent My Fall Thinking Maybe This Would Be The Maple Leafs Year? Or its sister piece from the spring Well There's Always Next Year. Summer is different. And unfortunately, it is also now over.

thank you

All good things must come to an end. Why does it have to be this way? Whoever came up with this idiom must have been a glass-half-empty type. Sunday was the end of our season. In the end we fell one victory short of our ultimate goal, but the collective feeling is that the memories we will carry with us from the summer of 2010 far outweigh that one loss. As was said by a parent, if we could rewind the clock back to April I'm sure we all would. We were a family - parents, players, and coaches alike. So to all of this family I would like to say thank you.

Thank you to:

Brandon Chong - For making me believe that it is possible for a 12 yr old to chop down a tree with one swing of a bat.

Liam Gallagher - Thanks for striking out and letting the pink hat die with you. (for those not in the know, anytime some struck out looking they had to wear a pink hat for the next practice and during warmups for the next game. pictured is Matthew Grabstas). And thanks for all the seeds you're going to supply me with next year.

Caleb Radley - For this look...enough said. You owe me seeds too - the kind humans eat. Not like the 7lbs of birdseed I left in your bag.

Anthony Marzenek - For breaking the hearts of the Turtle Club. Seeds too please, next year. Thief!

Justin Stephenson -  For some of the hardest hit balls I have ever seen come off a bat. Parents of opposing players thank you to that none of their sons were hit by these missiles.

Ben Miller - For being a leader in your own quiet way. All of us were at ease when you came to the plate because we knew you would make something happen. And for reminding all our pitchers not to suck.

Simon Ranger - You are a future coach in the making. I have thought that since I first had you on my team two years ago.

Mark Szostak - For offering hugs. No I don't need one, but thank you.

Riley Gray - Fellow lefty. For being our vocal leader in the dugout and on the field. You hit what may have been our longest homerun of the season but for a silly wire. As it is, you hit the weirdest triple ever.

Adam Del Frabbro - For dashing the hopes of anyone who hit the ball to the right side of the infield. You were where basehits went to die.

Matthew Grabstas - Tide Laundry Detergent thanks you for keeping them in business.

Justin Mignardi - For reminding me that you hit more homeruns than me in Little League and that without you I haven't won any district championships or made it to any national finals.

the coaching staff - For the friendships we forged along the way. The stories we shared. And the lessons I learned in coaching, teaching, and parenting I took from this summer.

the parents - For welcoming an ex-Erindale player into your midst. And entrusting your boys to me and us coaches for the summer. They (and you) made me look forward to every practice, game, and party. I was blessed to be around such fine young men for one summer.

I truly was blessed this summer. Thank you to one and all.

9/11 - how baseball helped heal a city

In the wake of the 9th anniversary of 9/11 I was reminded of the events and how they affected the baseball world. For 6 days play was suspended. Baseball was a distraction. And this was not a time to be distracted. When your heart is broken, try as you might to avoid it, nothing can distract you from the hurt. Regardless of where home was for us, on this day we were all Americans.

Baseball returned to play on September 17, 2001 but it wasn't until September 21st that baseball returned to New York with a game between the New York Mets and Atlanta Braves. (click on the link for a video tribute to that game) It was time for baseball to be a distraction again. It was time to begin the healing process and take a wounded nation away from the heartbreak, if but for a moment. What transpired was a game that will go down as a classic, if not stirring moment in the storied history of the game.

I'm not sure that any amount of writing I do can properly pay respect to the lives lost on that tragic day. What I can do though is tell you that how I will forever be moved by the sound of Ronan Tynan's rendition of God Bless America at Yankee Stadium. Let us all be grateful...

the baseball gods

Whatever god you kneel before at night is understandably your business, be it the sun, Jobu, Superman, or Ganesh. Religion is a personal matter - I get it. And baseball is not without its deities. In baseball it is an undeniable fact that there is a higher power at work. Hardly ever are things attributed to chance or coincidence in this game. There is a deep reverence for these mysterious beings that look down on baseball diamonds from above.  To not acknowledge these beings is to bring upon oneself great misfortune in the form of seemingly incurable hitting slumps, befuddling fielding errors, and the inability to hit a curveball.

Pedro Cerrano, in the classic movie Major League, was fully aware of his fallibility as a human playing a divine game and prayed to Jobu to "come take fear from bats." Baseball players are a quirky bunch. They will do things like avoid stepping on the white lines, eat the same pregame meal if things are going well, or draw a cross in the dirt - the highest form of reverence to the baseball gods. And next time you see a pitcher sitting alone in the dugout in the late innings of a game it's because its believed talking to him will jinx him if he is in the middle of a no-hitter. Also, please do your part and do not under any circumstances say the phrase no-hitter. That is blasphemy of the highest order towards the baseball gods. They are listening. And they will punish said pitcher and end his attempt at perfection with an unwanted base hit.

Need further proof that the baseball gods do indeed exist? This past weekend I took in a Blue Jay game. In the later innings of the game some inebriated frat boys that sat near me took to the time honoured tradition of heckling the opposing team. Fine. All in good fun. That was until their remarks began to border on offensive. Not even the baseball gods could let this slide. For two innings they heckled and jeered and for two innings EVERY TIME they said something a Blue Jay batter made an out, but for one batter. I noticed the hand of the baseball gods at work. Clearly they didn't. And that one time they were presumably tonsils deep in their alcohol and unable to utter more nonsense, what happened you ask?! A homerun.
Baseball Gods 1, Dingalings 0.

The baseball gods are omni-present. Just remember that.

the setting sun

Tuesday marked our first game since the Canadian Championships. It was different. Quieter. There wasn't the player introductions, the national anthem, Don Cherry, or the thousands of people on the surrounding hill there to support us. With no disrespect to our opponents intended, it was hard to get up for this game for players and coaches alike. It came. It went. We won.

If anything, this game marked the beginning of the end. Imagine you are at your cottage, sitting on the dock on the last day of summer vacation. Tired, you sit there and stare out over a relatively calm lake but for the water that gently breaks against the dock beside you. You reminisce. The light on your summer is slowly fading with the setting sun as it dips below the horizon. That's what Tuesday night was like.

We have but a handful of games left in what has been a truly memorable season and in a weeks time it will all be over. We will all go our separate ways for the coming winter months. But regardless of where life takes us parents, coaches, and players alike will all be bonded by the memories of the summer of 2010.

record to date: 32W, 7L, 1T

Tommy John Surgery

Surgery is a four letter word for most people. It conjures of images of pain and pain killers, rest and lengthy rehab. For an athlete, the stakes are even higher. It can often mean the difference between playing again or retiring. Despite all the advances in medicine there is always that "what if" white elephant in the room - what if it doesn't work and I can never play again?

With the recent news of Washington Nationals wonderkid Stephen Strasburg having to go under the knife, the tragic price athletes can pay for pushing their bodies to the limit was brought to the forefront of the collective sporting world's mind. 

Throwing a baseball is the most unnatural motion in sport and this motion places a great deal of stress on the both the elbow and the shoulder. In 1974 Tommy John, then a pitcher for the Los Angeles Dodgers, became a victim of this stress and, at the hands of Dr Frank Jobe underwent Ulnar Collateral Ligament reconstruction. It has since become known as Tommy John Surgery as he was the first to have the procedure done. Now, I digress and will admit that some ball players should probably consider stomach stapling surgery before anything else!

Whatever surgical procedure an athlete chooses to undergo, the return to playing is never a sure thing. The road back is also a long one. In some small way I know what this is like. I've had Tommy John surgery. Unfortunately though, one small ligament change wasn't able to elevate my fastball from weekend warrior superhero to chicks dig the fastball status. As of 2009, the success rate of this particular procedure was listed at between 85-92%. So, while the odds are good Stephen Strasburg will return, they are by no means a slam dunk.

The unfortunate thing about his injury is that Strasburg made people turn on their TV's to watch baseball again. He was water cooler talk for even the casual fan. In his brief stint in the majors people came out to see his magic right arm sling bullets and baffle hitters. Here's hoping we see him again soon.

saying goodbye

For all the fun the general public has at the expense of professional athletes when we see them in tears announcing their retirement, it surely can't be easy. Consider for a minute, that this isn't a career they stepped into when they graduated university, this is their passion. A passion that has been growing since they were kids. Most athletes have been around their chosen game their entire lives. Many have known nothing but playing. Some see the end of their careers as they age and their skills naturally wane, others are blindsided by it with injury. Whatever their circumstance may be with the end comes change. And it is this change that they have the most trouble becoming acclimatized to. It is a break in a life long routine. A loss of identity of sorts.

The one common chord among all athletes is they played for one reason - the love of the game. If heartbreak and the loss of love bring tears, how is giving up your passion any different, even if was just a game?

Life After Sport? Counselling Professional Athletes Facing Retirement

living a memory

Throughout history there are moments in time when people ask "where were you when..." and you can recall most everything about that time.There have been but a handful of such moments in my lifetime. Sadly, many of these moments are those of great human tragedy. My participation in the Canadian Little League Championships last week, while not tragic, was one such unforgettable moment.

Well aware of the fact that I may never be back to this tournament again, I did my best to take it all in - the sights, the sounds, and the smells. It is an experience I cannot begin to possibly describe in a few short paragraphs. I was there in every way possible as a coach, as a fan, and as a little kid trapped in a much older body. From the opening day parade to the thousands that turned out to watch the Championship Game, it was something I had never before been a part of. I was awed by the entire experience.

There were moments in every game where I looked out from my perch beside the dugout and the only thing I could think was "how cool is this?!" Take, for instance, a home run. Nothing trumps the jubilation of home run in a little league game. There is no "business as usual" look on the kid's faces as they circle the bases like we have grown accustomed to in professional baseball. The smile is always ear to ear. And often times the mob of teammates that await them at home plate are even happier.

Each day brought with it new memories. There were nervous parents who couldn't watch as their son calmly went about their business, kids asking other kids for autographs, and friendships forged that will last well beyond this one week. There were moments of sportsmanship that left us smiling. I think of one particular boy from the Quebec team, who became a folk hero of sorts as the tournament wore on. He cheered and chatted whether his team was behind or ahead. If they gave out awards for Most Inspirational, Isaac Harris would have been a unanimous decision.

Little League baseball is an event like no other. I truly feel fortunate to have been part of this event - a "where were you when" moment in my life.

Banquet Day

With the round robin portion of the Canadian Little League Championships complete, it was time Thursday night for all of us to gather for dinner. It was a time to highlight some of the great plays, great players, and dedicated volunteers who have made the tournament such a success.

The evening was highlighted by special guest speaker, Hall of Famer Fergie Jenkins, the greatest Canadian to ever play baseball. I sat there totally captivated as he recanted some of his stories from his playing days. It was a brief look into the life of an athlete who came from small beginnings in Chatham, Ontario and rose to the top of his sportt. My one wish was that he could have had the floor all night. I love hearing these tidbits. Nobody can recall the details of their life the way a professional athlete can.

Of the stories he told, I couldn't help but laugh when someone asked how many batters he hit in his career and how many were intentional? He quickly replied "84 and everyone of them." For those not "in the know" in his playing days hitting a batter was a part of the game. It was a matter of protecting teammates for one reason or another. Another Hall of Famer, Bob Gibson, who was known to be one of the meanest pitchers of his era once said his three best pitches were, "the knockdown, the brushback, and the hit batsmen."

Some wonder why I love baseball so much because to the untrained eye it seems like such a slow moving game - Pitcher stands on mound. Pitcher throws ball. Batter swings. Batter misses. Or Batter Hits. Repeat Scenario 200 times in 3 hrs. To those that know the game though, it is so much more than this. There is so much that happens that you don't see. And it's the stories that Fergie Jenkins told last night, that so wonderfully illustrate this.

the catharsis of losing

Losing is a strange animal. Where winning keeps you on a high, losing takes you to all sorts of different places. After the initial shock and frustration of yesterday's loss I sat there dazed and confused, thinking about many different things. This one did not sit well with me. Of course I thought about what if a few different things had gone our way, but more than that I thought about how losing is so much different than winning.

Losing it seems, can me more of a cathartic experience than winning. Amidst the disappoint it can clear your head and relieve the pressure of expectations. Sure, you still wrestle with the "what if's" but those fade and you are brought back to ground zero. Less is expected of you when you lose. Anyone who has ever competed can relate. Granted, anyone who has ever competed also welcomes the expectations winning brings, it can be how you deal with losing that makes you a winner.

The challenge with losing when you are older is that it seems to sting a little more because you know that your window of opportunity is slowly closing. You can't play forever. What were once tears when you were a kid when you lost, are now replaced with a gamut of emotions - frustration, disappointment, sadness, reflection, questioning...I could go on and on. I am well aware that being in the Canadian Little League Championships even as a coach might be the closest I get to realizing a childhood dream of playing in the Little League World Series. Will not making it there hurt? Yes. But win or lose, I will remember this one week forever.

it's finally here

After days, months, and for some involved with the Ancaster organization, years, the Canadian Little League Championships are finally here. Day 1 was relatively quiet. We were first on the diamond. There is something unexplainable about being on the diamond first thing in the morning. It is very serene. The dew on the grass is not quite dry, the groomed infield sits untouched, and players seem almost reluctant to ruin this postcard as they mill about in foul territory. Slowly people and players from other teams trickled in to watch the hometown team go about their routine.

I didn't sleep much the night before as I thought about what lie ahead for our team. I thought about each game. I thought about how life would be different after next Saturday when the tournament concluded. What if we won? What if we lost? How would I respond?

And so went the day. One after the other the six competing teams took the field to strut their stuff in front of the competition.

The night's activities featured a tractor pull and caber toss - not really. What it did feature, however, was something truly memorable. In the early days of the Ancaster Little League on Opening Day there would be a parade through Old Ancaster concluded by fireworks at the ballpark. Admittedly, I wasn't sure what to expect going in to this. What I got out of it was something I will never forget. The six teams were led through the town on tractor-drawn wagons to the cheers of people lining the streets. People in their cars honked. Others stood at the end of their driveways and waved. If I was awed by the experienced, I'm sure others were.  In that moment the kid in me wanted to be playing in this tournament, but the adult in me realized this was for the current generation of  Little Leaguers and their moment in the sun. It so nicely summed up what Little League baseball truly is - a community experience.

3rd place sucks

The phrase "you can't win them all" is small consolation when you grow accustomed to winning. "Losing sucks" is more befitting I think.

This past weekend we were in Windsor and things didn't go so well for us. We set out with a goal to win this tournament and that didn't happen. And in the process our 22 game winning streak came to an end. Granted, it became a 23 game unbeaten streak after a comeback tie, but still. That comeback was certainly fun to be a part of. We scored 6 runs in the bottom of the 6th, highlighted by Anthony Marzenek's game tying homerun. It was over after that, though, after a loss in the semi finals.

If there is a positive to be taken from the weekend, it was the way the team bounced back in the consolation game with another win over High Park. With that we had to settle for a 3rd place finish. It certainly wasn't the desired outcome, but it's nice to go into the Canadian Championships next weekend on a winning note.

It's funny how teams response to us has changed over the past few months. Two months ago, we were just another team on the other side of the diamond. Now we are that team - the Ancaster Cardinals that are going to the Canadian Championships. Teams know about us. They look out for us and want to beat us. And the boys are now relishing in that role as top dogs. I think they now understand just how good a team they are. I know this because, to a man...errr young man, none of them were happy with our result. They know that while you certainly can't win them all, losing always sucks!

Next stop the Canadian Championships!

record to date: 27 W, 4 L, 1 T

Victory - A Double Edged Sword

Baseball is a game of cliches - he's pitching a gem; he's swinging a hot bat; he was out by a mile - you get the idea. It seems there is no phrase that hasn't been coined to make the casual fan say 'huh?' and die hard say 'ah gotcha" all in one breath. Today, though, I offer you a cliche stolen from life's long list of coloqualisms - There are two sides to every coin.

It's been a week now since our win in the District Championships and while the boys deserve all the credit in the world for their accomplishments, the other day I started thinking what of those young men on the other side of the diamond. Those on the losing side. Yes, I may have had my fun in previous posts with our victories over High Park, but I trust you gather I mean no ill will toward them. They competed just as hard as our team, it just so happened that on on one night in July the baseball gods were on our side.

Unfortunately for them, their Little League experience may always be coloured by that loss. Some may never play baseball again beyond this year and that one game may very well be what they remember. Hopefully not, because they were a deserving winner too, but such is the case in sport. There must be a winner and a loser. And that is why victory is often a double edged sword - one team walks away with fond memories, the other with the sting of defeat.

In previous posts I have lamented my one chance to win this tournament many years ago. I look back now on my time playing with nothing but great memories and better stories, but for awhile I'm sure that this loss will sting a little for those boys from High Park. History may say the Ancaster Cardinals won 3-0 over High Park. What it won't tell you though is just how hard they made us work for that victory. Hold your heads high boys, we were very appreciative of the competition you gave us.

record to date: 23 W, 3 L

Ready for Canada

It's taken five years of planning and preparation, but Ancaster is set to strut its stuff at the 2010 Canadian Little League Baseball Championship.
The competition, scheduled for Aug. 7-14, brings together six teams who will be vying for a chance to represent Canada at the Little League World Series next month in Williamsport, Pa. The host Ancaster Cardinals are entered along with representatives from Atlantic Canada, Quebec, Ontario, the Prairies and British Columbia.
Little League is for boys and girls ages 11 and 12.
Ancaster won the bid to host the event five years ago. Since then, the park's major diamond on Jerseyville Road has undergone a transformation. There's new dugouts and fencing, a new electronic scoreboard, a new clubhouse with double concession stands and washrooms, new and expanded bleachers, plus a redesigned old clubhouse with a World T-Ball/Little League hall of fame. Impressive upgrades have also been completed to the six-decade-old playing field.
"It's crunch time, but we're really on track," said Jennifer Miller, project co-ordinator for the national championship. "It's a million-dollar project. Our diamond is 100 per cent beautiful."
Ancaster's team has been equally as impressive on the field this season. The Cardinals -- 24-3 overall -- captured the District I championship Thursday night, blanking Toronto High Park 3-0. Justin Mignardi belted a solo home run and Caleb Radley tossed a complete-game four-hitter.
Earlier in the robin-robin district tournament against High Park, Oakville, Stoney Creek, Erindale and Dundas, Ancaster won four of its five games by the mercy rule -- a 10-run lead after four innings. And their other victory was 8-0.
Two of Ancaster's losses this season came against American opponents in Buffalo playing non-Little League rules.
"I think we have a good chance of winning," said shortstop/pitcher Mark Szostak. "We always hold the other team from scoring because of our pitching and defence. And all our hitters, from the first batter to the last, have been getting on base."
Szostak and two others have been members of the same Ancaster Little League team for five years, winning the minor District I title in 2008 and coming within one run of taking the provincial title. Said Szostak: "The new people who joined this year have made us that much better."
About half of the current Ancaster team travelled to Little League's Holy Grail in Williamsport last year as spectators. "It was a great experience," Cardinals coach Dave Whalen said. "It motivated them. They want to be those guys on the other side of the barrier."
As the championship host, Ancaster won't have to qualify through the provincial championship tournament next week in Thunder Bay.
At the national championship, many celebrated Canadian athletes and performers will be in attendance. Don Cherry, of Coach's Corner fame, will throw out the first pitch of the championship game on Saturday, Aug. 14 at 1 p.m.
Former Canadian Idol winner Brian Melo of Hamilton will sing O Canada prior to the Ancaster vs. B.C. game on Sunday, Aug. 8 at 3 p.m. Other first pitches will be delivered by Canada's Hall of Fame pitcher Ferguson Jenkins, Hamilton Tiger-Cat legend Angelo Mosca, former Canadian boxing great George Chuvalo, Ancaster's Olympic halfpipe snowboarder Brad Martin and members of Stoney Creek's 1965 Little League World Series finalists. Cable 14 will televise the Ancaster games and playoffs.
"They're excited about all the pomp and circumstance," Whalen said. "Our players are focused and aware of the opportunity."
Parking will be at the Ancaster Community Centre with connecting shuttle buses running from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. With a natural amphitheatre setting, about 5,000 fans could watch the games.


CANADIAN LITTLE LEAGUE CHAMPIONSHIP
When: Aug. 7-14
Where: Ancaster Little League Park near Ancaster High School on Jerseyville Road
At stake: Teams from Quebec, the Atlantic, the Prairies, Ontario, B.C. and Ancaster will compete for the right to be Team Canada at the Little League World Series in Williamsport, Pa.
For full schedules and more information: www.ancaster2010.com


ARTICLE COURTESY OF:
Larry Moko
The Hamilton Spectator
(Jul 24, 2010) 
TheSpec.com - Sports - Ready for Canada 

21 yrs in the making

So far so good for us in the Ontario District 1 Championships. After three games we are 3-0, with three kinda convincing wins - 11-1, 11-0, and 14-4.

It's our first game, against High Park that I liked most for a few reasons. One, we were playing at the very park I grew up playing all of my Little League baseball in, Erindale. I can still remember my first home run there. As can my friend that I hit it off. I think the ball travels 10 ft further every year I tell the story! It also seems as though everyone throughout recorded GTA Little League history has a story about getting beat by High Park. And I'm no different.

Twenty one years ago we (Erindale) lost to the eventual Canadian Champions, High Park, in the District Championship game. So, it may have taken two decades and four presidents, but Friday night I was able to gain some measure of revenge with the 11-1 win. And how's this for a "small world" moment - Last week at practice we had a player who played on that High Park team we lost to come out and talk to the boys about his Little League World Series experience. We both remembered that game we played, players on either team, and moments in the game. In baseball there is always one constant - the stories. And oh how they grow in grandeur with each passing year.

Last week I watched part of the Ken Burns baseball series and actor Billy Crystal recanted a story of when he first met Ted Williams 30 years after he actually saw him play for the first time live. He told Williams who was pitching and how he had tape of it and said he had struck out in one at bat. Williams, without needing any more details, looked at him and said "curve ball low and away."

Nobody forgets their first homerun. I know I haven't. Apparently the greatest hitter of all time also never forgets a strikeout either.

record to date: 19 W, 3 L