New Baseball Card

What a kick! I always dreamed of having my own card and now I do!

INFIELD AS COMPUTER

To me, the infield is like a living computer.  Think of the players as the hardware.  Their skills are like software.  It’s a machine and it functions with remarkable effectiveness as long as each component plays its part.

On a computer, you hit a key and you get a specific response and it involves many different components. The infield is like that. 

It’s not just “ground ball, throw him out.”  That’s what the fans are watching.  But a ball on the ground to the right of second causes specific reactions from several players.  The first baseman goes to the bag to catch a throw.  The catcher comes up the line to back him up.  The second baseman fields the ball and pegs to first, at the same time the shortstop moves to cover second, in case the play at first goes wrong.

Every action is backed up, protected.  There’s always a second-level reaction that most people don’t see or aren’t aware of.   We call it teamwork.  Computer people talk about redundant systems.  Same thing, really. 

We do this ‘cause baseball is so fast.  On the infield, even if you do everything perfectly, there’s barely enough time to get a fast runner at first.

CROWD SONGS

Sometimes the people in the stands try to hassle you. Then they sound like heavy metal, gangsta. Most times they want to help you. They're singing something popular, good beat, way loud. But you have to find your quiet place in all the noise.

FOUL OUT VOLLEYBALL

Pujols was under the pop-up over by the stands, his big first baseman’s glove held high over his head, when the ball bounced out and went straight into Catcher Chris Iannetta’s glove. An easy out.

The TV announcers were surprised by Iannetta’s catch, but he wasn’t. That’s why he’d run over to help.

Nobody sees it on TV, but every infielder is on the move whenever a ball is in play. Everybody’s going somewhere, doing something, covering a base, backing up a teammate. That’s why it’s so hard to get hits in professional ball.

Grass-Stained Ass

He walked off the mound, his weight back on his heels and his cap pushed up. He looked like he was coming down a mountain, not a 10-inch rise in the middle of the infield. He puffed his cheeks and blew out.

His ass was grass-stained ‘cause he’d slipped and landed hard trying to field my bunt. I watched from first, as the catcher tried to calm the pitcher down.