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