Who Owns You?

I know I can't hit Dave Eldrige's stuff.  I KNOW IT.  Stats don't lie. But I don't even have to look, because I know it.  But you can look if you want to, with the new Matchup Matrix stats on the blog.

There's a new link under the stats which breaks out every individual matchup from the 2010 Whiffle and Ale League season.  Read across from your name (or any name) to see how you hit off of every pitcher.  Read down your pitching column to see how batters hit off you.

So I looked.  And I'm only 0-for-2 off Republican Dave.  Yes, that's 2 K's, but still.. there's time.

Pitchers' Duel

So you think two perfect games in one baseball season is historic?  How about an eight-inning 1-0 shutout on the Whiffle diamond?

Who could have known that as Dave Eldridge (R-OH) tripled in a run of Stats in the top of the first, that THAT would be it for the day?  Forty-five more outs were recorded over the remaining morning, THIRTY by strikeout. 

There were two separate bases loaded threats faced by Glen, in the fourth and the eighth.  In a moment that told the story for the home five, Eric the Bandit, at the plate with runners at second and third, none out, took a call on his cell in the batters box.  Glen, on the rubber politely demurred when Eric insisted it was an important call.  This encounter would end in The Artist's favor - a swinging K.  This jam, and the one in the eighth ended the same way with the Commish valiantly going down swinging.

Kim, Hansoo, Dave, Glen - 1
Ben, Eric, Kurt, Matt, Peter - 0

C'mon, people: HYDRATE!!

Game Notes:
Dave Eldridge certainly was the player of the day:
Batting: 5 for 8, 2 triples, double, THE RBI
Pitching: 2 innings, 6 batters faced, 6 Ks

PITCHER and BATTER of the Month will be announced on the blog on June 1.  May was a 5-game month so to qualify, one must have had at least 6 innings pitched (5 games x 1.1 innings) or 16 AB (5 games x 3.1 ABs).

Airway to Heaven (with apologies to everyone)

Now Stats and Baker know that all wiffle bats are not gold

And they’re watching his hits sail to heaven

When they get there they know, if the record books are all closed

With one more pitch he will get what he came for

And they’re watching his hits sail to heaven

There’s a strike zone on the wall, but they want to be sure

Cause you know sometimes chalk-lines are deceiving

In the grass by first base, there’s a ball that still spins

Sometimes all of our pitches are misgiven

Ooh, it makes me wonder

Ooh, it makes me wonder……

There’s a feeling I get when I look to the fence

And my shots are crying for leaving

In my thoughts I have seen asphalt dust through the breeze

And the voices of those who stand looking

Ooh, it makes me wonder

Ooh, it really makes me wonder…..

And it’s a sight no longer unseen, if we look toward Aberdeen

Then the Artist will lead us this season

And a new day will dawn for the Oakwood Wiffle throng

And the ballpark will echo with laughter

If there’s crack in your new ball, don’t be alarmed now,

It’s just another dinger for the the May-King

Yes, there are two teams you can play on, but in the long run

There’s still time to change the one you’re on.

And it makes me wonder…..

Your head is humming and it won’t go, in case you don’t know,

The Artist calls on you to join him

Dear Wifflers, can you see the balls go, and did you know,

Their pathway lies past the home-run line

And as we wind on down the season

Our average greater than the rest

And would-be wifflers we all know

Who sweat and pant and want to show

That their bats can still spin gold

And if you listen very hard

You can see the smell of fear

To be a pitcher without a throw

And his hits are sailing to heaven

The Brink that He Brought Them To

Sometimes these game stories write themselves.  And sometimes a player takes a Saturday morning in his hands and shapes it to his will.  This is a story about such a day; such a player.  Such a man.

Indeed without him there would have been no game at all.  Baker, Berwald and Lindsay delayed the start whilst he sped down I-75 from Troy.  He arrived and took his immediate position in the outfield.  "Play ball."  Two on two whiffle thus commenced.

Selflessly, he declined the opportunity of warm-up pitches, toeing the pitcher's plate at the top of the second.  It would prove his only poor decision of the day.  Baker and Stats combined on six hits, plating 3 runs.  After a double drove in the third run he spoke prophetically, "That's the last run you score."  No truer words were spoke that morning; His pair of miraculous, over the shoulder, back to the infield, catches, prevented runs in the fourth. Lindsay and Baker would have to make three runs stand up for a win.  3-0 after three and a half. 

As the end of play approached the Man took matters into his own hands.  It mattered not who was pitching as he took both Stats and Baker DEEP.  And by "deep" we mean majestic, soaring arcs.  These towering shots would have passed the "five-base hit" line.  We're talking two-bounces-to-Aberdeen-Avenue, thanks-I'll-take-that-league-lead-in-dingers, EPIC BLASTS.  Two Pop'ems that left Tim and Matt looking like a couple o' glazed holes.

Then with the score tied, He triples!  Winning run at third, one out left to play with, His team literally stood at the brink of victory.  It was then that Tim Baker (who, we learned, always preferred Bernard Malamud's 1952 novel, "The Natural" to Barry Levinson's 1984 cinematic version) dug deep and ended the day with a dramatic K, preserving a tie.

Tim, Matt - 3
Peter, the MAN - 3

So, just as great art preserves the emotion of real moments, His team will forever be on the brink that He, GLEN CEBULASH, brought them to.

Scoresheet note:

The Commish's masterful pitching should not be overlooked.  Six up, six down, including 4 strikeouts.  He leads the league in Ks as a pitcher with 38.

That Game in May

On that busiest day of that calendar in Oakwood members of that Whiffle and Ale Club gathered a half hour early to be sure that a game would be played.  That weather was most accommodating all day long - no exception at 8:30 am at that Nance Bradds Asphalt.

Nine of our number showed for that game and they broke into two teams: 5 on 4.  (I wonder if I might gain an audience with that Commish to ask if there might be reason to break into three teams of three?)  Our 2010 season trend of close games continued - what spectators may have been present were treated to a terrific game, indeed.

That first pitch was delivered by That Commish.  He was greeted unceremoniously by five straight hits (Triple, Double, Double, Single, Single).  That last hit, authored by Laura Hume, plated Hume's first "Fun Run" of that young season.  An early 2-0 lead.

However, what the Commish giveth, he taketh away.  Defensively, for that Visiting team it started off, as that day traditionally does, with Brent Mackintosh serving up fat pitches like pancakes on paper plates.  Kim, Tim and Hans each enjoyed a serving, with Commish Peter coming back for seconds.  All told a two run feast for that home squad.  2-2 after one.

What followed was a scorers dream - a veritable "Parade of Zeros" as that good pitching took over.  To be sure, those pitchers tossed out hits here and there like candy, but few ghosts were allowed to dent that plate.  Kurt Mosser drove in a run in that second, but gave it back pitching that fourth.

With time running short, a 3-3 game entered that sixth inning.  Brent took the mound once more and earned two quick outs.  But then, like kids at a Rotary carnival game, that Home squad made quick work of Brent's deliveries, earning enough tickets to plate 2 more runs.  Kim worked around Dave Eldridge's (R-OH) 6th hit of that day in the top of that 7th, to nail down that win.

Hans, Kim, Peter, Tim: 5
Brent, Dave, Glen, Kurt, Laura: 3

Scoring Notes:

Eldridge's 6 for 8 at the plate nicely complimented his 1-2-3 second inning on that mound.  Too bad Dave didn't pitch twice, eh?

Hume's scoreless fifth on that mound took 7.50 runs off her season's ERA.

Profiles in W(h)iffle Courage – Brent Mackintosh

Many fans assume, quite understandably, that Brent Mackintosh hails from Europe.  A certain “charisme” and “machismo”, that are his stock in trade, to say nothing of his tireless efforts on behalf of Christian Democrats worldwide, make such a conclusion almost unavoidable.  Sadly, these fans would be wrong.  Not because they have misapprehended his virility, for it is real and it is tremendous, but because he’s a homegrown hero and Chicago, the “w(h)iffy city”, is his ancestral stomping ground.

TO SEE THE SMELL OF FEAR

Lead Butcher for the               league,

Run Maker, Stacker of Errors,

Player with Bats and the game’s Schedulizer;

Stormy, husky,brawling,

Man of Weary Shoulders

They tell me you are reckless and I believe them, for I have seen you give up fourteen runs in one inning, luring the laziest hitters into higher batting averages.

And they tell me you are cockeyed and I answer: Yes, it is true I have seen your pitches repeatedly hit the ground many feet before the wall.

And they tell me you are intoxicating and my reply is: On the faces of batters I have seen their lust as you approach the mound.

And, having answered so I turn once more to those who sneer at you, my teammate, and I give them back the sneer and say to them:

Come and show me another player with lifted bat swinging so proud to be alive and on the field and momentarily mistaken for Dave Matthews.

Flinging majestic change-ups amid the toil of piling hit on hit, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the little soft benchwarmers.

Fierce as a Kettering demographer lapping for action, cunning as a savage pitted against the wilderness,

Leg-thrusting

Swatting

Tripping

Panting

Erring, scoring, re-erring,

Under the dome, asphalt dust all over your mouth, laughing with your mitt aloft,

Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a rookie laughs,

Laughing even as an ignorant player laughs who has never lost a game,

Bragging and laughing that under your hat is the hairline of the people,

Laughing!

Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of middle age, half awake, proud to be lead butcher, run maker, stacker of errors, playing with bats and the game’s schedulizer

Remedial Whiffle Scoring

I need to let the various and sundry members of the Whiffle and Ale Club know that I do intend to take a vacation this Summer. I will not be in attendance for every game. On those occasions, someone will need to take ownership of the scoring. By that I mean the scoring during the game; I will be always happy to maintain the season's stats and update the current stats link on the blog page. No problem.

No, what I mean is, the scoresheet that comes to me AFTER the game needs to make at least a little sense. So here's what I can glean from the cuneiform I received today: The final score was 5 to 0, with The Commish, The Artist and The Bandit constituting the winning side. That I know. The losing team appears to have started out: Hans, Kim and Laura. It appears that Laura left early and that Brent took her place, but there were two innings when both were in the batting order.

I will need an eye witness to explain the rest of these anomalies:
- Why in the top of the third did Glen pitch FOUR outs? K, K, K, Single, Ground out?
- How did Peter give up the following sequence: Single, K, Double, Double, K, K - but surrender no runs in the fifth?
- Why is there a doodle of a flower along with Glen's third inning Double off Laura?

All that aside, the two most important things about Whiffle Scoring that I must convey are these:
1. Whiffle players DO NOT score; ghost runners score.
2. Ghosts do not have stats.

Thus, when one hits a Triple with a runner aboard, Eric, it is not important to figure out who scored, Peter. It is important to note that the Triple also resulted in 1 RBI, Glen. Your collective obsession with figuring out who scored made your third inning, ten batter, four run outburst off Laura nearly indecipherable.

But "good games" all around for those who came out on a blustery, cold morning. The stats are up to date.

Channeling Bernard Malamud

We have another Sunday morning game after a soggy Saturday that rained out play at Fairmont. While no rain was falling, the Smith Park grounds were riddled with puddles, and damp where there was no standing water. Conditions were less than ideal, but it was dry enough to chalk the lines on the asphalt. Three whifflers met at nine: Ben, Stats, and the Commish.  So once again it would be 1 on 1 on 1.

The early rounds went to da Commish as he followed a lead-off triple with a prodigious 2-run home run off Ben. Ben would find sweet revenge though, peppering five straight hits off Stats (4 singles, then a double) to plate three, exploding Lindsay’s heretofore unblemished ERA.

Like the roiling sky above, all was gloomy for Stats. Completely shut down by Peter in two rounds, he came to the plate to face Ben. Stepping into the batter’s box (long since washed away by Peter’s incessant “digging in”), Stats brought Ben’s wind-up into focus. But what did he happen to see just over Ben’s right shoulder.. just beyond the chain link fence.. standing there on Aberdeen Avenue? Could that be? It was. The former Karen Ruth Lavy – Stats’ bride of 16 years!

And as she befigured a modern Iris Gaines, the effect was felt by all in three consecutive at bats. Single! Home Run! HOME RUN!

Da Commish would hit one more “big fly,” this one off Stats, and the final would be an unsatisfying 3 to 3 to 3. And as the precedent had been set, the “stats” (if you can call what you get from this glorified batting practice “statistical”) do count. Thus only five remain with ERAs of zero. All who played today saw their batting averages inflated, RBI totals padded. But for one, it was a day of Whiffle Magic.

Rainout

Conditions fit only for horse racing today.  If the weather breaks, come out Sunday at 9:00 am and pad your stats.