Sometimes You Just Suck

NBF's confines don't get much sunnier than they were today for a gooey, steamy, well-attended 5-on-6 smashfest.  Although the final score looked decently close it never felt that way from the Homies' perspective.  We just basically stank from the plate and couldn't get anything going other than dinging up Lord Eephus, He Who Giveth, for our only nine.  Which was like getting out the mustard and rye bread when the mustard's only a single packet that you can't figure out how to open.  Meantime the Visiting Vans were crushing it, led by Pete who went a very nice 6-9 and Zach who took us yard twice.  

As lousy as we were from the plate however, we did show some badass fielding skills.  J.D. stole a homerun with about as little of one foot still contacting the line as it's possible to have.  Then to balance out our karma, the No-Doz™ Leapin' Leopard Catch-of-the-day went to Jeff for an impossible looking jump-n-snag which, in keeping with our ill-fate, ended with him landing about 2 inches past the line.  Coulda shoulda woulda.  Oh well, at least I was able to use an old Jedi mind trick on Zach to get him to pull (which he very rarely does) a mile high popup directly into the merciless morning sun and which I managed to cleanly catch in spite of the fact that my retinas had long since vaporized by the time the ball finally came down.  Some days, small moral victories are all you git and all yer gonna git.

Today's Scoreboard Stumper:  Who holds the MLB record for most satanic-looking blue eyes?  

(Last week's answer:  Hank Aaron and Alex Rodriguez)  

Andy, Hans, Pete, Walker, Zach  -  15 runs, 22 hits

Adrian, Eric, J.D., Jeff, Matt, Tom  -  9 runs, 12 hits

HR  -  Andy, Hans, Zach (2), Tom

Dreams Come True

There's just no other way to say this, today was one of the greatest wiffleball games of all time.  First things first:  on this day, September Eleventh, Year of Our Lord Two-thousand and Twenty One, a wiffleball was finally smashed so hard for a home run that it cleared the fence in Nance Bradds Field.  As all the longtimers know, I have been obsessing over wanting to see this be done for many years.  Not only did I finally get to see it happen, and not only was I right there in the outfield to joyfully watch it sail over my head...it didn't just barely clear the fence as I'd always imagined it would---IT LANDED IN THE GODDAMN STREET!!!  Jeff, you makuh my dreams come true (ooo oo, oo-oo).  Next step is to get to work on the glass display case for his mantle.  Rotating siren bar optional but preferred.  

Andy also deserves some credit for this blessed event too.  As baseball fans know, to a large degree momentum is conserved when a thrown ball meets a bat squarely on the barrel.  Which means that the longest-hit home runs will tend to be hit off the hardest-throwing pitchers.  But that's for baseballs and I've never been fully convinced that the same holds true for wiffleballs, which flex and flatten a great deal more than a baseball.  I'm now fully convinced that it IS true for wiffleballs however, because Jeff's monster shot-of-all-shots today came off Andy who can unleash a wiffleball pitch harder than anybody I've ever seen.  I guess that's probly why it took 12 years to finally happen:  it basically required Nolan Ryan AND Dave Kingman to do their thing as hard as they can on the same pitch.  But physics whatever, it was just fucking beautiful to watch.  Maybe it'll happen again one day, maybe it never will.  But it happened today and I had a front row seat to The Big Show and I can't imagine ever being happier to watch the other team score.  

Final note on this:  the distance from wall to fence in straightaway centerfield, which is where Jeff put it over, has been accurately measured to be 145' 2".  I haven't measured it yet but the distance from the fence to where the ball landed in the street has to be at least 15'.  Which means that this home run travelled at least 160' in the air.  Since wiffleball is inherently an informal sport I was unable to find any sort of official records for wiffleball home run distance records, but I did find this video compilation, produced by a long-running wiffleball league out of Palisades, NY, that's apparently been filming every pitch from behind the plate since the late 00's and they put together a Top 10 longest smashes reel and they have decent estimates for the distances.  I won't ruin it by telling you the numbers, just fire up your favorite YouTube device and enjoy.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0PvfhYC8t_o&ab_channel=hmpfilms

Even without Der Fenceclearur the game Itself today was also pretty damn good.  It had lots of action and drama but didn't drag out (9 full innings in just over 2 hrs), featured what may be the first-ever game winning team with no home runs to beat a team that had two of them (Stats?), and it ended in a walk-off hit.  AND, that walkoff hit was a slap-bouncer back to the pitcher who bobbled and dropped it for a walkoff ERROR---wiffleball at its hilariously, chaotically beautiful best!  

Oh and also:  today I finally, FINALLY got to bat against eephus-era Pete.  And what'd I do with this golden opportunity?  I chased a first pitch blooper so far away from me that I had to walk three steps over to get to it, and then just barely chipped the top four molecules of plastic on the ball which produced the weakest forward motion conceivable.  Cleanly fielded by Pete, siddown Zamonski.  The pain was excruciating and I loved every bit of it.  Viva La Wiff.  

Also also:  Hansoo's back!!!  Yay Hansy!!!  The Inscrutably Cheerful One is warmly welcomed back to the sunny confines of NBF after what, two full years' absence?  Seemed like forever buddy, glad to have you back.  Less glad to have to once again face those wicked sinker/riser sequences, PLUS your shoulder's apparently all healed up now so you can once again throw mega heaters for us to flail badly at.  Sheesh almighty Hans, you're like the world's first seven-tool player!  Which I celebrated by arriving negative 5 minutes early.

Today's Scoreboard Stumper:  Who are the only two MLB players to have fifteen 30-HR seasons?  (Check next week's blog for the answer)

Hans, Jeff, Mark, Pete  -  5 runs, 14 hits

Adrian, Andy, Eric, Zach  -  6 runs, 15 hits

HR  -  Jeff (2)

Look to Your Laurels

You have to admire how the big stars of the 1970's did their best to hang on as the calendar changed into the 1980's and the culture evolved. I'm thinking of artists like Pat Benatar, Asia, James Earl Carter, Jr., ... Toto. They carried on as best they could with their sound but the new voices were dominating the scene - young Turks like The Alan Parsons Project, Human League and Dazz Band.

So it is in Wiffle as a new generation (for whom names like Cebulash, Mackintosh, Eldridge, Simpson, and even Mosser are nothing but grainy black and white images) are now trodding the asphalt at Nance Bradds Field and remaking the game in their image. These future legends, with their big-barreled black bats, and their artisanal sports drinks (no coffee and donuts for these whippersnappers) are transforming the game - and the stat sheets.

But some days, the veterans still have their way. Today a team made mostly of, shall we say, SEASONED wifflers took on a team made up mostly from... the new breed. And basically, the codgers had a day. And a half. Ten runs (all off the bat of Andy) on eighteen hits across an eight-inning pasting of the ingenues. 

So it can happen - even the Bee-Gees had a top 40 hit in 1989!! But it can't go on forever.

Adrian, Jeff, Mark M., Matt, Walker - 2 runs, 7 hits

Andy, Eric, Jim G., Pete, Zach - 10 runs, 18 hits

HR: Evans - 3 (7)

The Drama was Oedipal

Oedipus and Liaus. Luke and Anikin. Walker and Peter.

Oldest story in literature and wiffleball.

Bottom of the last inning, 2 outs, bases loaded, two strikes, home team down by just one run.

Well, I gave it away, so we know how it ends, but... how did we get here?

Jeff, of course, is how we got here. He led off the game with a solo shot and tripled home a second run in the fourth. At that moment his visiting squad of Jeff, Mark W., Mark M. and Walker was up 2-0.

The Homestanders (Peter B., Matt, and Zach) managed a run in the bottom of the fourth to halve the deficit. And that 2-1 margin held to the last inning.

In the top of that last inning, The Vizzies threatened to make it a laugher by loading the bases against Zach with none out. But Zach emerged from the inning unscathed and preserved the one run difference.

That left it to Walker B. to nail down the save. The home team did not roll over and make it easy.

Two outs, runner aboard, 2 strikes - Matt singled to keep the inning alive.

Two outs, 2 runners on, 2 strikes - Zach singled to load the bases.

Two outs, bases loaded, 2 strikes - Peter... 

[Well like all such stories, you know how this ends. The son KILLS the father.]

Walker got the game ending strike out on a shoulder high fastball, swing and a miss. Et tu, Brute?!

Jeff, Mark, Mark, Walker - 2 runs, 9 hits
Peter, Matt, Zach - 1 run, 11 hits

HR: Jeff (his 12th)

His Hunger Was Lupine

Dark is the blacktop, of NBF field

Bright are the foul lines, we're keepin' it real

Do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo

Opposing batter, looking for tells

Expecting high heat, but offspeed's what sells

Do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo

In touch with the ground(er)

I'm on the mound I'm after you

Bat like I smell, my stats are for hell

And I'm hungry like the wiff

Straddle the plate, but the pitching is great,

I'm on the schnide I'm after you

Ball off the wall, it makes you feel small

You're on the schide it's so insane

It trickles straight out, leaving no doubt,

He'll scoop it right up to end your pain

Do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo

The pitch is way high but you flail and you miss

The dream's alive because you heard the ball hiss

Do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo

In touch with the ground(er)

I'm on the mound I'm after you

A toss and a swing, a strkeout it brings

And I'm hungry like the wiff

Dragging your feet, return to your seat

You wish you had showered and used shampoo

The outfield is packed, all fly balls are tracked

And you're hungry like the wiff 

Devoid of all pride, you're empty inside

You're on the schnide they're after you

Offensively nill, your average's killed

And you're hungry like the wiff

Strutting his stuff, the pitcher's too tough

He's on the mound he's after you

His blazing ball speed, it leaves you knock-kneed

And you're hungry like the wiff

Your stance is unsound, your groove you've not found

He's on the mound he's after youuuuuuuuu...

Come-from-behind glory: Midget Hooker Joke Edition, part IV (Belgian subtitles. Some assembly required, even your parents couldn't put this together)

It was a gooey morning of sustained guts, occasional glory, and near-constant midget jokes that saw two well-balanced (except Eric of course) teams stride onto the Elysian Fields of NBF and get right down to it.  The Visiting Youngins fell behind early, snakebit by the wily veteran tacticians occupying the lower half of the scoreboard.  Jeff broke it open with a laserbeam smash auto-triple off the wall that might've---just MIGHT've---gone far enough to clear the you-know-what.  Sadly, the world will never know.  Also, we'll never know because it was travelling at warp nine and won't return to this parsec of space until October 1st, 2082.  Just in time for the 100th anniversary of Billy Joel's "52nd Street".  The first album to be released on CD.  Which will be the first album to be rereleased in N-dimensional Hilbert Space format.  

But I digress...

The gap closing began with a pair of longlong dongdongs from Tom and Zach, the latter who also happened to be standing in precisely the same spot that about five of yours truly's chip-shot popups went straight to.  Over and over again.  With eerie consistency.  Except when he was on the mound.  Then I got a hit.  Yay?  And speaking of Zach's stuff...his final sequence of pitches against Jeff, with a man on and protecting a tenuous one-run lead...was nothing short of '95 Maddux-level perfection.  "It's all about the finger pressure."

TLDR:  Old dudes get nice lead, young dudes chip away and never quit til final out which was potential walk-off drama.  But wasn't.  Winner = Young Dudes.  (But we'll be baaaaaack!)

Mark M, Tom, Walker, Zach - 9 runs, 21 hits

Adrian, Eric, Jeff, Pete - 8 runs, 18 hits

HR - Tom, Zach, Jeff

The Way of the Eephus

The parched plains of NBF saw a Summer Sizzler this morning, sizzling with drama all the way down to the bottom of the ninth.  The action had a decidedly American League flavor with lights-out pitching and longball smashes dictating the score.  And it was a good score too:  7-5 the final, with the winning Vans overtaking the early heroics of the Home Team Homies in middle innings.  Always nice to tantalize with the possibility of a walkoff but alas, it was not to be.  

Special commendation to Dewey for displaying an uncanny mastery of the Eephus pitch with at least three of them landing for strikes.  One of which actually got Adrian looking for a backwards upside-down K.  ("a dyslexic out").  Another nod goes to Tom for providing balance against the perennially dominant Andy.  Yet another to Zach for nearly Makin' My Dreams Come True (ew-ew, ew, ew) for hitting the day's longest bomb that actually made it to the warning track.  It it'd been just a little higher, or a little flatter, or a little anythinger...we might've finally seen one actually leave the yard.  As much as I'm dying to see somebody actually do it, part of me is also glad there's this last frontier of Wiff achievement that's still tantalizingly out of reach.  "O that a wiffler's grasp may not exceed his reach, or what's a Heaven for."

Let's hope it's a long hot summer of low-scoring nailbiters.  Viva La Wiff!  

Adrian, Tom, Zach - 7 runs, 16 hits

Andy, Dewey, Eric, Peter - 5 runs, 10 hits

HR - Tom, Zach (2), Andy, Dewey (2)

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