Experiences and reflections – Page 5

A look back

December 10, 2014

This may be hard to believe (or, at least, I’m finding it hard to believe), but this marks my 500th post on The Baseball Attic. In celebration of this milestone, I thought I’d share a little something about myself and my personal interest in baseball. Initially, I considered talking about my earliest introductions to the game, but lately, I find myself reflecting more on my experiences playing softball in high school. In light of that, I decided to talk instead about playing for my high school and summer teams during those years.

After the Marine Corps transferred my dad to the Kansas City area, shortly before my tenth birthday, I did not take part in any organized sports again until I reached middle school. In the eighth grade, I went out for the track team, where I threw discus and ran as part of a 4×100 relay team. In all honesty, I wasn’t that good — I was too small to be much of a thrower, and I’m arguably a better runner now, at thirty, than I was at the age of thirteen — but it certainly beat sitting around doing nothing. That year, I also joined my brother in taking taekwondo classes. The three years of inactivity that had taken their toll on my pre-adolescent body gradually shed themselves as I started down the road of getting back into shape. In the meantime, I always made a point to play slow pitch softball at school mixers and even joined an early morning club for girls interested in playing for the high school (fast pitch) team.

Going into my freshman year of high school, I finally had the opportunity to really play the sport that I was most interested in — or, at least, the version that society dictated girls ought to play. That August (Missouri’s high school softball season takes place in the fall), I tried out for the school’s softball team and was named starting shortstop for the JV squad, though the varsity coach also penciled me in as a backup second baseman for the varsity team. That year, I led the JV team in batting average (I don’t recall the exact statistic, but it was well over .300) and even had the opportunity to make late appearances in a few varsity games.

I made the varsity team as a starter going into my sophomore year, but on an unexpected condition: our coach decided that it was time for me to learn how to play the outfield. The veteran players who had once made up the team’s outfield graduated at the conclusion of my freshman year, and I really think that our coach’s line of thinking in the face of this ran along the lines of, “Well, Sanders is fast. She has a strong arm. Let’s put her out there.” While I felt a bit put off about having to give up my comfort zone in the middle infield, the excitement over making the varsity team quelled this small disappointment, and I put everything I had into conquering my new territory. That year, I also began training outside of team practices, as I signed up for a weight training and conditioning class to help fulfill my physical education requirements. The previous year, I had also taken up running to help condition for taekwondo tournaments, but now started doing it for softball too. I played most of my sophomore season in left field, and was named second team All-Conference at the conclusion of the season.

The summers following my freshman and sophomore years, I played for a fast pitch league through the local parks and recreation. I enjoyed playing for the league immensely, and team schedules usually included two to three games per week. But as a recreational league, the level of play did not quite match up to what I faced playing for my high school team. Thus, the winter following my junior season, I tried out for and started practicing with a competitive tournament team.

Things worked a little differently playing in a competitive league those last two years. Team practices began in late January to early February, and the season started in early spring, lasting right up until practices began for our high school teams. Our season consisted of a long string of tournaments: a new tournament every weekend, starting on Friday evening and lasting throughout the weekend. We often played between five and ten games in a single weekend against teams from all over the region, and sometimes other parts of the country. My teammates came from all over the Kansas City area, and we did quite a bit of traveling throughout the summer. Looking back on it, I realize that my parents were really, very understanding in terms of the money that they sacrificed in order for me to do this.

As for my remaining high school seasons, I played center field for both my junior and senior years. As a junior, I was once again named second team All-Conference, and this time, All-District as well. My senior year, I made first team All-Conference, All-District, and was even nominated for the Greater Kansas City All-Metro list. I wish I could say I actually received All-Metro honors, but just being nominated was pretty cool in itself.

One of my favorite memories from my entire high school career came during the season-opening tournament of my junior year. I believe it was our second game of the tournament, and we were down 2-0, on the verge of elimination. With two runners on base, our catcher drove both runners home with a triple that tied the game. I then came to the plate and launched a pitch deep into left-center, where it hit the bottom of the fence. As I rounded second base, I looked up and was surprised to see our coach not only telling me to come to third, but waving me all the way home. The throw to the plate wasn’t even close, and the final score of the game was 4-2. It was the only home run I have ever hit, and we went on to win the entire tournament.

For the most part, those final two years passed in a firestorm of activity. Most of my days ran from 5 a.m. to 11 p.m. Each morning, I woke up and went for a run. During the school season, I went to batting practice for an hour before classes started. My senior year, I took weight training and conditioning once again and grew as strong and fit as I have ever been. After school, of course, was softball, and some nights I also had taekwondo or piano lessons. Throughout high school, there were also band practices, meetings and activities for various school organizations, band concerts and piano recitals, and, of course, as much of a social life as I could squeeze out, which wasn’t much. When I finally made it home each evening, usually fairly late, I would do my homework and go to bed, resting up so that I could do it all over again.

I read an article once that talked about how the most successful students are usually the ones who are so busy that they hardly have any free time, and I really believe there is a lot of truth to that. I sometimes look back and wonder how I maintained such an insane schedule, but doing so taught me a lot about time management, and I can’t imagine doing it any other way. It helped that I was so deeply involved in an activity that I loved so much, and in a sense, this blog has become a way through which I get to maintain a level of involvement. My life isn’t quite as crazy as it was in high school, but I do still manage to take on projects that keep me busier than most. I suppose that’s another thing that baseball offers to those of us who love it — if we work it right, it can be the fuel that powers our ambitions.

Reflections on the Royals’ 2014 season

November 1, 2014

The last few moments of the 2014 Royals season didn’t turn out the way that I hoped that they would. Indeed, falling a mere ninety feet from tying up Game 7 of the World Series proved heartbreaking as a Royals fan, especially considering that, in the twenty years that I have rooted for this team, this is the first season in which they even achieved a playoff berth. The last time they did so, I wasn’t old enough to even grasp the concept, much less to root for a team.

I didn’t make it to as many games as I would have liked this past summer, but each trip to the K remains as memorable as ever. As the season progressed, and the Royals continued to hold their own, bouncing between first and second place in the division, I watched the crowd at Kauffman grow increasingly larger and more rambunctious. I’m generally a pretty introverted person, but there is something about a stadium full of people cheering devotedly for its team that evokes a sense of solidarity in me. I had the privilege of attending Game 3 of the American League Championship Series, and never before in my life had I seen so much blue in one place. That, combined with the energy that emanated from the crowd, made me fall in love with the stadium and the Royals all over again.

As the regular season came to an end, I found myself checking the standings daily, sometimes more. The Royals had a shot at winning the division, but if they didn’t, it was also a close race in the fight for a Wild Card spot. When the Royals made the Wild Card, I cheered at the prospect of a “Blue October,” not realizing just how true this prediction would become.

My October flooded with late nights, which culminated in exhaustion as I no longer slept enough each night. Many times, especially when games went into extra innings, my adrenaline would get pumping so hard that, even when the final out was made or the winning run was scored, I wouldn’t be able to sleep right away. I exchanged numerous excited texts, phone calls, and emails with friends and family as the Royals not only won the Wild Card, but went on to sweet the Angels and the Orioles, en route to their first World Series in almost thirty years.

When the World Series won, I prayed that the Royals’ winning streak would continue, but was unsurprised when it did not. Streaks, as we all know, are fickle, and they are always broken sooner or later. The roller coaster of the series as a whole put me on the edge of my seat throughout. When the Giants took a 3-2 lead, I found myself filled with a curious combination of dread and confidence. When the Royals came back in Game 6 with a whopping 10-0 victory, I knew that Game 7, with the possibility of Madison Bumgarner making an appearance out of the bullpen, would be close. I just hoped that Bumgarner would be too exhausted following his complete game performance in Game 5 to pitch more than an inning or two.

This is where I, and the Royals, fell short. Once again, Bumgarner wowed the baseball world with a first-class performance, and the Royals simply could not figure out how to make anything happen offensively. When Alex Gordon landed on third base with two outs in the bottom of the ninth inning, I started to shake with hope and anxiety. Surely Salvador Perez could pull off the late-inning heroics just one more time, right? But, alas, it was not to be, as Salvi popped out to end this amazing run of a season.

I turned off the television immediately following the final out of the game, having no desire to have the loss drilled in any deeper, but come Thursday morning, I was pleased to learn that fans in attendance at the K had broken out in a chant of, “Thank you, Royals!” It truly was a season to remember, and while I have been a baseball fan for most of my life, my love for the game increased two-fold this year. And, yes, I have the Kansas City Royals to thank for that.

Kauffman Stadium during the National Anthem, ALCS Game 3

Is this Heaven?: A pilgrimage to the Field of Dreams

August 6, 2014

The first thing I noticed as we pulled up the drive was the vast array of vehicles already lining the parking lot. After six tedious hours of driving, we finally arrived at our destination: the Field of Dreams movie site, located just northeast of Dyersville, Iowa. We made our hotel reservation back in mid-May, and I had been waiting with enthusiastic, even if restrained, anticipation ever since to make the journey. In spite of the downpour of rain and storms that we encountered driving through Missouri, Iowa embraced us with mostly clear skies and warm, 80-degree sunshine.

I deliberately scheduled the visit for a Sunday, in order for us to take advantage of the Ghost Sunday event. I did not entirely know what to expect, though in my mind I had visions of players emerging from the cornfield and hitting the diamond for some old-fashioned baseball: old school wool uniforms, old-style equipment, some fun and camaraderie, in direct emulation of the movie. I did not expect a full-blown competitive baseball contest, but I did envision pitching, batting, base-stealing, and perhaps even a nineteen-year-old kid in a New York Giants uniform winking at the pitcher as he takes his stance in the batter’s box.

We arrived with about forty-five minutes to spare before the exhibition was scheduled to begin, so we decided to meander around for a bit. The grass proved every bit as green as I pictured it. A lot more people had also shown up than I expected. The wooden bleachers filled up rapidly with spectators, as did the benches intended to designate each team’s “dugout.” Lawn chairs lined up along each baseline, and crowds of people milled around the concession and souvenir stands. The field itself was crowded with people playing mock ballgames, shagging flies, and playing catch. We headed out to the corn, where even more people took pictures and feigned disappearing into and reappearing out from between the tall, almost-harvest-ready stalks. I doubt that any other cornfield in the world receives as much attention from the general public as the one at the Field of Dreams.

With one o’ clock fast approaching, we eventually made our way to the emptier set of bleachers and settled down for the show. As I hoped, we witnessed the ghost players materializing from the cornfield, eager for the opportunity to return to playing a game they so loved in their living years. They made their way to the diamond and were introduced to the crowd, and many of them, we learned, had played a role in the movie. They wore the old-style Chicago White Sox uniforms, bearing the design from the years of “Shoeless” Joe Jackson and made of wool.

FOD15 — Ghost players emerging from the corn

The rest of the spectacle, however, did not proceed quite as I anticipated. Rather than playing a game amongst themselves, the ghost players recruited a group of youngsters from the crowd, giving each kid the opportunity to bat and run the bases against them. It had more of a circus-type vibe than I had envisaged, being much more family- and kid-oriented. Nevertheless, the humor and the interactions proved highly entertaining, and I was not disappointed, in spite of having my expectations thwarted.

At the show’s conclusion, we still had nearly an hour to kill before we could check into the hotel, so we wandered around the grounds some more. The lines at the souvenir stand doubled in length as people sought to purchase merchandise for the ghost players to autograph. We dove in and out of the corn a few more times, checked out the house, and I contemplated the feel of the grass and the infield dirt beneath my shoes. Finally, we headed to the hotel to check in and rest for a couple hours.

We later headed into town in search of dinner. Dyersville, population 4,000, reminded me of every other small, American town I have ever frequented. The downtown area featured a street of locally owned shops lined up next to one another, most of which had already closed by the time we arrived that evening. In our quest for food, we managed to stumble across the Basilica of St. Francis Xavier, a Catholic parish featuring Gothic architecture. Before continuing on to filling our bellies, we decided to explore.

It was the kind of church that, if it were close enough to where I live, I would show up for mass every single Sunday, without fail. As impressive as it looked on the outside, the inside of the Basilica was absolutely breathtaking. Over the years, I have struggled with the idea of God and religion, but I found myself wondering whether taking pictures inside such a magnificent parish could be considered a sin. A couple times, I found that I had to stop walking around and simply sit down and let myself get lost in the aura of this sanctuary.

Our return home the next day proved predominantly uneventful, even if we did get rained on again. We stopped in Ames, Iowa for lunch at the Olde Main Brewing Co. The beer tasted delicious, even if the food did not quite live up to the same standard. I cannot say whether the trip as a whole had any profound impact on me, and I won’t pretend to have had any life-changing epiphanies, but I am certainly glad to have had the experience. It was a trip that included a visit to two beautiful cathedrals, one for baseball and one for Catholicism, and I would contend that my life is that much more fulfilled because of it.

Broken streaks and homecomings

June 25, 2014

Winning streaks can only last so long. Otherwise, they wouldn’t really be “streaks.” The Kansas City Royals recently saw the end of a ten-game winning streak that had temporarily catapulted them into first place in the AL Central. Going into last night’s game, I had a winning streak of my own, in which the Royals won each of the last four games I attended at Kauffman Stadium. That run also came to an end last night, as the Royals proved unable to provide any run support for Danny Duffy’s solid quality start. They lost 2-0 to the Los Angeles Dodgers.

About the only consolation regarding the Royals’ hitting last night was that Clayton Kershaw did not manage to notch his second consecutive no-hitter. The Royals eked out six hits over the course of the game — scattered hits — no more than two in a single inning. We kept hoping for them to string something together, but the rally proved elusive last night.

Attending a ballgame is never a bust of an evening, however. For the ceremonial first pitch last night, we got to witness this young fan reunite with his dad, who had spent the last year in the Middle East with the Air Force.

It was also T-shirt Tuesday, and while they had run out of shirts by the time I got there (an hour early, even!), the friend I met up with had arrived half-an-hour before I did. Not wanting to add yet another shirt to her wardrobe, she graciously allowed me to have hers. After the game, I picked up a few more abandoned souvenir cups to add to my ever-growing collection. By the time I walked out of the stadium, my hands were full.

There’s more to attending a ballgame than just T-shirts and souvenirs, of course. Kauffman Stadium is one of my favorite places in the world to spend a few hours of my time. The atmosphere relaxes me, from the smell of unhealthy food and beer, to the lush green of the outfield grass, to the fountain display beyond the outfield fence, to just being surrounded by baseball. And really, it doesn’t even have to be Kauffman Stadium. Just being in close proximity to the dirt infield of a Little League diamond relaxes me. My favorite team just happens to reside at the K, and I feel lucky to be able to root for them in such a great stadium.

Maybe tonight will be the start of another winning streak.

The first place Royals

June 18, 2014

The Royals have moved into first place in the AL Central. A nine-game winning streak tends to help with things like that. The first place Kansas City Royals — that’s a phrase one doesn’t hear too often these days.

They had to claw their way up for it. The Royals have hung around, mostly in the middle of the pack for most of the season, doing stints at the bottom of the division. Excluding the first week of the season, which doesn’t count anyways, this is the first time this year that the Royals have made their way into the first place slot.

It’s a good feeling, if you’re a Royals fan.

Thing is, Kansas City fans are fickle. Fair weather fans, and not just when it comes to baseball. Chiefs games are always packed because this is football country, but that doesn’t stop Chiefs fans from dissing on their own team when things are going badly. Royals fans show their lack of loyalty by not going to games. In a stadium built to hold over 37,000 people, a crowd of 24,000 at a Royals game is considered a good crowd. If the Royals hold onto first place for a while, I imagine attendance will peak even higher than that for awhile. If they lose today and drop back into second place, however, the reaction will be, “Welp, that figures,” and Kansas Citians will continue about their business.

I probably shouldn’t be so harsh a judge about it. For decades, the Royals have offered lots of hope, but few results. Many fans have likened the team to a farm team, producing names like Johnny Damon, Carlos Beltran, and Zack Greinke, only to trade them off to other, bigger markets. The frustration over that is justified. It’s tough, being a small-market team.

But these last two seasons have brought more than just talking about having hope. They have actually brought hope. Playoff contenders last year, and looking to be about the same this year. If we’re really lucky, we may even see a playoff berth this year, but I’m not holding my breath just yet. Just as fans are fickle, streaks — both winning and losing streaks — are also fickle, and one streak in either direction can change everything.

It’s a long season, but I’m hopeful.

Dressing up for a career day

May 19, 2014

The Royals have had a roller coaster of a season thus far, comprising of a few sharp ups and a lot of downs. They had just climbed their way back to .500 going into yesterday’s game, the finale of a four-game series against the Baltimore Orioles at Kauffman Stadium. They could no longer win the series, having fallen behind 2-1, but I hoped at least for a 2-2 split and a return to a winning record.

The Royals had a couple promotions going on at the K: “Dressed to the Nines” to salute the 1920s, which encouraged fans to dress in their Sunday best at the ballpark; and a salute to the Negro Leagues, in which the Royals wore Kansas City Monarchs uniforms, and the Orioles dressed as the Baltimore Black Sox. Fans arriving early received a fedora in celebration of both these tributes. It felt like a costume party in some ways (and, really, I suppose it was), seeing the grounds crew in suspenders and fans in three-piece suits and sun dresses.

The weather created a perfect day for baseball: warm sunlight and a cool breeze — perfect for dressing up or for the t-shirt and jeans combo worn by lazy folk like us. When the air stilled, we could feel our skin grow hot under the sun, but when the breeze picked up, goosebumps emerged. It never grew too hot nor too cool. We picked up our Kansas City Monarchs fedoras at the gate and climbed on up to the cheap seats. A mere crowd of 22,000 showed up at the K for the game, and those fans who had opted out in favor of other plans missed out on a spectacular show.

Leading the team to victory with two three-run home runs, Alex Gordon had what writers and commentators are calling a “career day.” And why not? In addition to his six RBIs, Gordon went 4-for-4 and made a spectacular defensive catch, crashing, once again, into the wall in left field. He fully deserved the curtain call demanded by the crowd following his second homer. The novelty of the moment struck me as well, for while I have seen deserving performances on television on multiple occasions, Gordon’s curtain call yesterday became the first I’ve ever witnessed in person.

Things became interesting in the top of the ninth, however. With the Royals up 8-3, Aaron Crow took the mound to close out the game. What should have been an easy nail in the coffin turned into a nail biter, as a walk and a single set the table for Adam Jones to hit a three-run home run of his own. With the score now at 8-6, Crow was out, and the Royals brought in Greg Hollander, who drew the final two outs for the save and the victory.

I’m generally not a superstitious individual, but I feel it worth a mention that the Royals have won the last four games that I have attended. I attribute this success to my lucky black Royals cap, which I actually picked up at a game as a promotional giveaway more than ten years ago. I have a couple other Royals caps that I could wear to games that I attend, but they say you should never mess with a winning streak. The black cap will continue to go to games with me until this streak ends.

On obtaining my first baseball

September 6, 2013

We interrupt our regular programming for this brief post of pure self-indulgence.

A friend and I attended the Mariners-Royals game in Kansas City two nights ago. For the last run of Wednesday home games for the Royals, Kauffman Stadium has set aside a section of seats dubbed “GordoNation,” a fan section devoted to KC’s All-Star left fielder Alex Gordon. In addition to a seat right by Gordon’s defensive stomping grounds, fans in the section receive a GordoNation T-shirt, which, as you can see, is a pretty nifty piece of apparel. Last night, however, I received a bonus souvenir when, after his warm-up tosses prior to the top of one of the earlier innings, Gordon tossed his baseball into the crowd off to my right. The ball bounced from fan to fan, juggled amongst futile attempts to grab it. Before I even had a chance to fully grasp what was going on, I realized that the ball had started rolling slowly away from the crowd and right towards me.

Without hesitating, I scooped it up, and the flurry of excitement of the crowd to my right ended in a groan. My first Major League baseball. I was so pleased that I could feel myself grinning like a goofus as I ran my fingers over the laces of my latest souvenir. Unfortunately, the Royals lost 6-4 that night, as Aaron Crow gave up a two-run home run in the top of the ninth, breaking the 4-4 tie. But at least I didn’t walk away empty-handed!

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