On My Way To First!

When I was in junior high, a new kid moved into town. He was a generally funny and clever guy so our circle of friends quickly included him in our activities. However, he had never played sports before, baseball in particular.

He signed up for Little League almost not knowing his backside from third base and was assigned to play for one of the opposing teams.

On a school day with our two teams scheduled to meet that evening, the pitcher of our team told the new kid that he was gonna get hit with the first pitch. He was reminded every hour about the inside fastball that would be coming in mere hours. New Kid was freaked out the entire day.

Sure enough, the first pitch was far inside and hit him above the left thigh. We all laughed as New Kid danced his way down the first base line to take his free base. If he didn't know the difference before, he quickly learned getting hit in third base doesn't hurt as much. Days later, he'd show us the bruise with little stitching marks still outlined.

Years later in high school, the cleanup hitter of a rival team started to talk too much smack before a game I pitched.

[As I tell these stories, I'm reminded of a line Steve Lyons has in For Love of the Game that inside every athlete, there's a mean streak.]

Anyway, batter and I had a territorial dispute when he came to bat. I let him have first base but let him know home plate was mine.

To bring it all together - last night, the ChiSox played the Rangers. Texas' pitcher had hit the Sox's catcher twice already in the same game. Seemingly in retaliation, the Sox's manager brought in a rookie pitcher to hit one of the Rangers. Despite a couple of inside fastballs, Blalock got out of the way and eventually grounded out. At the end of the inning, the Sox's manager berated the pitcher in the dugout, promptly removed him from the game, and sent him to the minors.

I like the old school way, baby.

I also like these little ESPN polls. Here's today's poll.