Here are the Gulls, 7th place finisher of the Red Sox 2008 Fantasy camp.  Click on the image to see it full size.

From Left to right:

Manager Rich Gale- serious, talented, good shape, good man.

Jeff Adams- scrappy, good hitter, good fielder, good guy.

Rich Swierad- good first baseman, good hitter, good guy.

Craig Winterfeldt- good hitter, good defense, quiet, good guy.

Tim Cyr- firey good guy, solid defense, good hitter, leg troubles.

Gordon Walsh- quiet, good hustle, good guy.

Ken "Mercury" Miller- hyper, funny, generous, good pitcher and hitter, groins.

Woody Starr- killer hand-eye coordination, 18 time attendee, knows baseball.

Joe Fuller- good 1st baseman, lousy pitcher, decent hitter, slow (quads).

Patrick Foley- awesome ss, great hitter, good guy, modest.

Bill Finn- quiet but funny, great fielder, good hitter, fast, right glute.

Gary Belt- fun at night, caught a ton, encouraged all, good guy.

Ken Mondzak- great shape, great 3rd baseman, gun arm, good hitter, good guy.

Dale Toce- gazelle, great fielder, good hitter, smiling all the time, good guy.

UL Washington- generous with time, still got skills, good to campers, good guy.

I ended up batting 9 for 24 or .375.  I had a blast hanging out with pro players and regular guys who love the game as much or more than I do.  If there is a next time, it will be after a change in regimen that includes more sprinting.  But all in all, the phyiscal side was fine.  I have a much better appreciation for those that excel and last at this game.  The field is so big.  Hitting a guy trying to get you out is so hard.  Playing day after day beats up your body so much.  Pitching it over the plate is so hard- much less pitching it to specific spots over the plate.  Cal Ripkin and any catcher are now higher on my list of heroes.  I am sure I have new lifelong friends and my appreciation for the Red Sox and the Red Sox organization has grown immensely.  Thanks to all the people who made this happen.  It was a fantastic fantasy come true.

I hope to see you all at the reunion at Fenway in August.  Bring spouses!  My wife Karen wants to meet you!

The weather was perfect for the 7th day just like the previous 6.  Starting at 8:30, the pros began playing a 3 inning game against each of the 10 teams for a 30 inning marathon at City of Palms Park.  Joe Castiglione, Red Sox radio announcer for 25 years, was PA announcer.  The 10 camper teams played the pros in order of finish, starting with the Jackals, then the Trolls, etc.  The park was abuzz with outsiders, family members of the campers, Red Sox office staff, pros and campers.

I ate breakfast with our "all world" shortstop Patrick Foley, a financial advisor from Peterborough, NH.  He had played awesome defense and had crushed the ball.  I have to think he batted over 600 for the week.  Rich Swierad and Ken "Mercury" Miller were there too.  We stopped in at the PDC to get our stuff and head to COP Park.  Jim Rice was there in the training room getting iced up and stretched out.  He shared thoughts on being aggressive.  He repeated what Rich Gale said.  You had to be tough and he made sure everyone knew he would back down for nothing and no one.  We got to COP Park in time to watch a few of the games before ours.

The pros were bringing it on the mound.  Pride was on the line.  Gedman was doing most of the catching.  Hobson was at third.  UL was at second.  The hitters rotated around.  Bill Lee played a lot of center field.  Corsi was pitching at 80 plus.  A typical inning at bat for the campers was a weak grounder a popup and a strikeout.

We played 7th and batted in Aplhabetic order against Rich Gale.  In the first inning, Gale threw a curve ball to Tim Cyr, fastest backward runner in the West, and he was unhappy and praying for no more curves.  Thankfully, Gale threw a fastball that Tim drove to center for a fly ball out.  In the second, Finn K'd and Foley hit a sharp single to left.  I battled Gale through 5 pitches, fouling off 4 of them.  The 6th pitch was close to being a strike and I threw the bat out at it.  It dropped into right for a sinlge and Foley took third.  After Miller K'd, Ken Mondzak, 47 in great shape with a great gun at third, singled up the middle to score "all world" Foley.  Woody Starr, attending his 18th straight Red Sox camp, ended the inning.  Woody had put the ball in play virtually every time up.  He had been impressive.

We let the pros score 2 so they could retain their pride and lost 2-1.  We were one of only 4 teams out of the 10 to even score against the pros and we had given them their closest game.  Toce had started and pitched a scoreless first inning and also got a hit in the game.  Miller finished and also pitched well, including a strikeout against an unnamed pro who batted twice in a row after walking the first time.

We watched more of the games.  Gedman, Boyd, Lee, Tiant, Hobson, UL, Daubach, Corsi and Miranda all made hitting look easy.  Oil Can Boyd was a cut up.  He hit from both sides of the plate, threw heat and generally entertained the crowd.  Corsi was a beast on the mound.  It was a great day of baseball.

The awards banquet was great.  They introduced the second place Trolls.  Then Johnson said a few words about each of the winning Jackals players.  Mark Landry, Hopkinton, MA, of the Jackals was MVP.  Mike Haber from Kingston, NY picked up the Cy Young award (named after the Red Sox pitcher) for his outstanding week pitching.  Kevin Nolan, deaf comedian, got the personality award.  Victor Lee was most improved.

Joe Castiglione wrapped up the banquet with a quotation from Bart Giamatti, former commissioner of baseball:

"It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone."

The championship of the camp featured Treuel's Trolls against Johnson's Jackals.  The Trolls' Manager was Ralph Treuel, a long time pitching coach and minor league manager in the Sox orgainization.  Their coaches were Al Bumbry and Luis Tiant, who split duties over the week.  The Trolls had been favored with their lineup of 30 somethings and older players who could still play.

Haber started for the Jackals and pitched a gem.  Timely hitting by the Jackals and some walks doomed the Trolls.  By the time Luti came in and shut down the Jackals, the damage had been done and the Trolls could not overcome the 5-1 lead.  A player told me after the game that a few of the Trolls could not believe they couldn't do better against Haber.  Their manager asked them how many walks Haber had given up.  "None" was the answer.  "That's the difference."

At the bar, one of the campers asked me how our team had done.  "Not so well," I replied.  "We finished 7th overall." "Did you have fun?"  "Oh, man," I said, "This was one of the best times of my life."  He responded,  "I wish my team had had more fun."  "What team were you on?", I asked.  "The Trolls; we came in second." He lamented that because they had been so dominant in the early games, everyone expected them to win so there was a ton of pressure on them.  I have to admit that once we were 2 and 4, I started having more fun because there was no chance of us competing for the top spot.

I was really happy for the Jackals and Haber, Zazulak, Jackson and Moore.  They were older guys with no pedigree but a lot of heart.

Friday night Tom Lynch, a fomer attorney who now resides in Senatobia, Mississippi, Reg Godin, Paul Best and I went to Outback for dinner.  We were waited on by Super Heather.  She had more piercings than years of college but planned to change that around.  She did a great job and we encouraged her scholastic pursuits.  Tom was an iron man for the week.  He caught 34 innings:

After the cigar bar, some of the campers went out to additional pursuits.  I chose not to go and most of them returned early.  Some of the Jackals and Gulls went out with 69 year old Reg Godin.  Reg pitched a perfect game in High School and in one season he was the winning pitcher in 9 of their 10 games.  He still can throw that 12 to 6 curve, but he lamented it didn't have the same oomph as it did 50 years ago.  Imagine. Here's Reg sitting with Bob "Monty" Montgomery.  Bob played catcher for the Red Sox from 70 to 79.  Some said he had the "perfect job" as backup to Carlton Fisk.  Monty had a .258 average in 387 games with 23 home runs and 156 RBI.  He was the color commentator for the Red Sox from 82 through 95.  His voice is awesome.  Monty told us that he was surprised to be let go by the Sox.  That year, there were 7 openings for Major League broadcast types.  The front office kept telling him, "don't worry; you're in for the coming season."  So he did not pursue any of the other opportunities.  When the day came that he was told they were not renewing his contract, it was too late to land any of the other jobs.  But he's not bitter; he blames himself for getting complacent and not looking out better for himself.  Monty was a great asset to the camp.  His Mavericks finished 6th overall.

So on Friday, the Gulls played at City of Palms Park against Bill Lee's Lefties.  This is my roommate Paul Best's team.  Again, the coaches pitched.  This allowed me to say that I have caught Bill Lee in a baseball game, as I actually did catch one.  Rich Gale pitched to us.  Although a few of us, including me, got a hit off Rich, we didn't manage any runs against him.  UL Washington, our coach, did "worse", giving up 6 to us.  The Lefties took the game 13-6.  On my second at bat I popped up.  On my third, I barely got the ball out of the box and had to sprint to first.  Here you see the sore quad results of my efforts. I can now see how former players can be hobbled for life.  Almost all the pros had some kind of lingering problems.  Our camper legs were sure beat up after a week.

Friday morning's game marked the end of the regular season and our record was 2-5.  The playoffs worked like this.  There were two divisions, Yaz and Williams, each with 5 teams.  The 1st place finisher of Yaz would play the first place finisher of Williams.  Second would play second and so on.  We finished 4th in the Williams and would play Johnstone's Jets to determine 7th or 8th place overall.  All the runner-up teams would play at 12:30 at the PDC complex and the champion contenders Jackals and Trolls would play at 3pm in front of everyone at the City of Palms Park.

In our consolation game against the Jets, Dale Toce, 30 something cardiologist from Windsor, CT started for the first time and pitched well.  Gale was kicking himself for not starting him sooner.  Adams made a great stab and throw at second.  I went 1 for 2 and played the outfield.  I did hit my first extra bagger, a double to left center.  Fank Malzone's advice had helped.  We won 5-3, making our record 3-5 and finishing 7th of 10 teams over all.  Back at the PDC, I compared notes with Rich Gedman about catching Bill Lee and UL Washington holds court by his locker.  I am actually Rich's younger brother.

The Red Sox hosted a happy hour at a local restaurant, the Reserve, Thursday evening.  They handed out championship 2007 celebratory cigars and had an open bar and munchies.  It was nice.  Rich Gale, our manager, was one of the few pros to come.  Lots of the Jackals and Gulls were on hand. The Jackals pictured are JJ, Canada Dave, Haber and the catcher Moore.There is a Gulls team picture and one of Joe with roomie Paul and Tom Lynch and one of Joe with Tim Cyr and Craig Winterfeldt.  Rich Gale was relaxed and engaging and shared lots of stories with us.  We asked particularly about throwing at the other team.  He said it was an unwritten rule that if they did something dirty or hurt one of your guys, the pitcher had to make things right.  The managers and players never said anything about it; they didn't have to.  As a pitcher, if you failed to make things right, you'd loose respect in the clubhouse.  It would not have to be the next inning or even that game.  But it had to be evened up.  He specifically mentioned a game between the Red Sox and the Yankees in 04 when Jeter got hit.  He just went to first and waved his finger at his own dugout and said, "that's it; no more."  He was referring to the score being even and no need to keep it going.  Rich said the game is different today with immediate warnings and quick ejections.

Rich is deaf in one ear.  He told us that if he didn't like what a player was saying, he'd make sure to position his deaf ear to the player.  Such as, "can you catch another inning?" or, "can you go another inning?" So he said it was not uncommon to see players running around him trying to get to his good ear as he spun in place.  Rich had been kind of hard to get to know and he's certainly intimidating with his 6 foot 7 size and still being in awesome shape.  But we really got to like him and I had a great deal of respect for him how he treated me in my time of failure.  And because he didn't baby us at the plate, he really prepared us for the game against the pros.  Rich had the right mix of instruction, competing hard and playing proper baseball with an attitude of relax and have fun too.  Here's Rich with his favorite pitcher.

Some were out late Wednesday but I went in early.

The morning routine is ride to the clubhouse and eat breakfast (cereal and fruit).  The equipment team has washed all your stuff over night and hung it back in your locker.  You go to your locker and get dressed for the 8:30 meeting. You douse yourself with SP45 and head out to the fields.

In our morning game, pitched by the coaches to speed things up, we beat Johnstone's Jets 9-5.  Manager John Johnstone is an outfielder who played for various teams over a 20 year career.  My buddy Roy Kaplan from Suffolk, VA, a 5 time camper, played on the Jets.  He had an injury that didn't slow him down much but sure looked like it should have. Victor Lee from Brockton, MA was also on Roy's team.  Victor is 50 plus, has sight in only one eye and 4 stints in his heart.  Victor collected his first hit, a shot to the right center gap.  Johnstone was brutal in the exhortation of his players when they were behind and not hitting well. "Swing the [flying] bat! You swing like a [girl]!" I went 1 for 3 against UL and Gale.  The reason we had coach pitch in the morning insead of the afternoon was to speed up the games to make time for Carl Yastrzemski's appearance.  He sat behind a table and signed 2 items each.  Yaz was my childhood hero.  And from the number of campers who chose 8 as their uniform number, I imagine he was popular with a lot of us.  Yaz did not engage with us campers as Dewy did.  His line breezed along as people got their signatures.  The best item I saw signed was a 1967 cover of LIFE magazine with Yaz on the cover (Haber).  Yaz put on a brief hitting clinic after the signings.  It was so brief, I missed it.  They said he told us to be relaxed.  One of the pros said, "yeah, that stance he used with his arms stretched way up sure looked relaxed."  We chuckled at that one.  I got a PONY baseball signed (I coached in that league 12 years).  My ball probably won't be worth much on the open market but that's not where it is going!

In the afternoon game we lost to Monty's Mavericks 19-8.  This is where I got my pitching debut and swan song all in the same game.  When I came in, we were down 13-6 due to some errors.  I hit three guys and walked a ton.  The players were gracious about it but everyone on the field was frustrated, especially me.  When I looked to Rich Gale for relief, he came out to settle me down. "Are you hurt?" "No, that's the problem; I have no excuse,"  I replied.  He said, "Then just throw it to the catcher.  I've seen you throw.  You're accurate and have plenty of arm.  Don't aim it; just throw it.  You're fine.  Now finish it up."  I did and when the dust settled, we lost 19-8.  After the game I thanked the umpire for his patience.  He kind of grumbled.  Tim Cyr from Brighton Mass said he'd never heard that one before.  The loss left us with a 2-5 record as we headed to the clubhouse for the daily hot dogs and beer.

Our first game Wednesday was against the Johnson Jackals and true to his word, Mike Haber from Kingston, NY (sorry about that) was the starting pitcher.  Some of us were surprised at his fortitude, considering the gusto with which he had enjoyed himself the prior evening.  But there he was, ready to take on the world with his best Jonathan Paplebon intimidation face.  Our pitcher was Ken Miller.  Ken can "make coffee nervous" according to our manager Rich Gale.  Ken had not taken the mound in anger in 30 plus years so he was a little nervous.

Wednesday in camp is referred to by the pros as "Blowout Wednesday" because so many of the campers suffer some kind of blowout, typically in their legs.  I confess that my quads, which I have tried particularly hard to stretch at each warm-up, are hurting and it has slowed me down.  The sprinting is what gets us. Going from a dead stop to a full sprint trying to run out an infield grounder is hard on us old guys.  Hamstring problems seem to be most prevalent, but there are injuries to toes, thumbs, calfs, groins, glutes and quads too.  Surprisingly, few are complaining of arm problems.  Mine is fine.

We came into the day with a record of 0-2 and I was 1 for 7 at the plate.  I was looking forward to playing against Haber.  He said his family is an oasis of Sox fans in a sea of Yankee fans in Kingston.  Haber plays for Ron Johnson's Jackals.  Johnson is the skipper for the Red Sox Triple A affiliate in Pawtucket, RI. He is a big guy, funny, upbeat and very complimentary to his players.  You can't help but like him.  Their coach is **** Drago who won 78 games over 13 seasons with various major league teams. Haber's teammates include Jason Jackson from Toronto whom I took an immediate liking to and "Canada Dave" Zazulak who hails from Vancouver, British Columbia.  Dave is also a great guy.  He had been hurt early and needed a couple of days to recover.  He stayed engaged during that time by keeping score and cheering on his teammates.  Leo Bessette from Lake Mary, FL was their HR Derby participant.

I faced Haber toward the middle of the game and when I got up, he rubbed his chin with his knuckles.  I did the same and we smiled.  Sure enough, the first pitch came in high and tight. The ump and catcher caught on and we all had a chuckle.  A couple of pitched later I stroked a liner into left center for a single.  I did not score but it was great getting the hit. Mike struck me out later to even the score.

We kept the game at 3-3 through 5 but then had some walks and some errors and gave up 8 more in the last 2 innings and lost 11-3, making us winless in 3 games.

Dwight "Dewey" Evans, a star on the Sox for 2 decades in the 70's and 80's, made the rounds during the morning games.  He took photos with everyone and was a gregarious, friendly guy.  At lunch, he signed 2 items for each camper, making eye contact and joking it up.  The line stayed long because he took time with each of us.  I had him sign my souvenier bat.  He seemed happy to be there and obviously well liked by the other pros.  It seems that personalities are sprinkled around ball players just like the general population.  Some players are funny and outgoing while others are reserved and shy.

In the afternoon game we faced Hobson's Hornets.  Butch Hobson played 3rd for the Sox in the mid 70's and was manager for the big league club from 92-94.  Hobson was available to the campers throughout the week.  One night, he sat with many players at a table in the hotel lounge and showed slow motion video of some of the Sox hitters and what they were doing that made them good.  Hobson was well liked by the campers.  Jim Corsi was Hobson's coach.  Jim is a young guy who played for various teams over a 10 year career.  He's a beast and can still throw fast.

We are Gale's Gulls, managed by Rich Gale.  Gale won 55 games over 7 seasons and finished his career with the Sox.  Us Gulls managed a win over the Hornets 10-4.  Ken Mondzak went 3 for 3 and drove in 2 runs.  Billy Finn had 2 hits and drove in 2.  Jeff Adams went 3 for 3.  The Hornets had a deaf player, Kevin Nolan from Chatsworth, CA, who brought an interpreter, Umberto, with him to camp.  Kevin was a crack-up.  For example, he told Umberto to tell Tom Lynch from Mississippi to hold it down at the stadium because he was making too much noise.  I went 2 for 3 against our coach UL Washington.  UL played 11 years for Kansas City and Pittsburgh.  Every other game was pitched by our own coaches and the others were pitched by opposing campers. We could not seem to hit Rich Gale.  At 6 foot 7, he was still intimidating and threw pretty hard.

So with our first win, at the end of day 4, we were 1-3.

We all went to the Home Run Derby for the campers at the big park down the road called City of Palms (COP) Park.  Each of the 10 teams had a single representative.  Ours was Rich Swierad from the Cleveland area.  Rich did well once he warmed up but his one blast over the the temprary fence was just foul.  Kevin Connolly won it after multiple rounds even though he could hardly walk due to a calf pull.

The only blight on the perfect week was running out of food after the HR Derby at the picnic at COP Park.  Turns out some had grabbed both a burger and a chicken sandwich.  It was poor planning.  These are some big hungry guys playing 2 games a day.  Some of the pros and the derby contestants didn't get anything to eat.  The club had to order pizza for them.

So 4 days down and 3 to go.

Tuesday we played two games- one before lunch and one after.  We lost both.  The first was a heartbreaker 4-3.  Both pitchers did well and both teams played good defense.  I went 0 for 2 with a grounder to 3rd and a K.  After the K, an older coach sitting in a golf cart behind the dugout asked me where that last pitch was.  I said it was away and a little high.  He said that I needed to try to take that pitch up the middle.  I was trying to pull it and pulled my head off. I'd never get to that ball if I kept doing that.  I'd only be able to hit inside pitches.  I thanked him and asked him who he was.  Turns out he's Frank Malzone, considered one of the greatest, if not the greatest, third baseman in Red Sox history. From 1955-1965 Malzone hit .276 with 131 home runs and 716 RBI in 1,359 games.  After a couple of minutes he drove off to help some other 50 year old do a better job at having fun at camp.

In the second game, we got thrashed 9-2.  Our bats didn't do much.  I was 0 for 3 with a soft liner out, a K and a one-hopper to short.  I did knock in one of our 2 runs with the FC to short.

Tuesday night we went to ******* to celebrate being out of the championship hunt.

This is Mike Haber from Massachusetts [later edit- actually Kingston, NY; my apologies].  He's happy about hoola hooping.  Mike and I got to be good friends.  He was going to pitch to us Wednesday morning.  He said I should be looking for chin music right off the bat.  I said bring it on.  After our night of revelry, I doubted he would be in great condition to pitch.  I was wrong.

So we ended day 3 with a record of 0-2.  I was sore but alive.  I was having a blast with these guys, playing real baseball on a real field with uniforms and all the trappings of the major leagues.

Monday morning we caught the 7am van to the Red Sox Player Development Complex or PDC. The complex is located in a less ritzy part of the city but it is gorgeous. There are 5 full size fields, a clubhouse with lockers, training rooms, an equipment room, meeting rooms and a foodservice area. We were told to wander the locker areas and find our lockers. The uniforms were hung so that the players' names were prominent. I found mine relatively easily. It was on the same row as Jim Rice's.

I felt proud and childlike seeing my custom uniforms there- white for home cames and gray for away. In the locker there was a bag of souveniers, a couple of really nice shirts and a bat with my name engraved on it. We dressed and ate breakfast- cereal, fruit and bagels, and went to the 8:30 meeting. The coaches were introduced and basic rules were explained. The first kangaroo court was held. This is where a self-appointed judge metes out fines for transgressions observed- real or perceived. Fines are typically a buck, but they can be more.  Things like being late to a meeting, missing your belt, losing your sunglasses, sitting in the wrong chair, eating too much fruit, wearing ugly shorts and calling a manger "coach" can cost you a buck.

After breakfast we received instruction from the managers and coaches.  Bill Lee talked about pitching.  Someone asked if he were ever afraid of getting hit in the privates.  He said no because after he let go, he turned his backside to the batter.  "If they were gonna hit me in the privates, they were going to have to go through my backside".  The message was the same but the words were a little different.  Oil Can Boyd was at the pitching station too.  We asked him about Daiske's "gyro" pitch.  Oil Can got animated and claimed that it wasn't anything but a circle change and that it was crazy for everyone to make such a big deal about it.  Butch Hobson, Manager of the Sox for a couple of years, taught us fielding in the infield.  Amos Otis, Al Bumbry and Rich Gedman helped in the batting cages.  The instruction was brief but entertaining.  It was hot.  The warned us not to go too hard because guys who try to impress are often not able to compete the rest of the week.  After instruction we ate lunch.  It was good. 

The first game, right after lunch, was an "eval game" where the 10 managers could watch the players and make notes for their draft.  We were put on teams by alphabet.  I was the second guy up on our field and got a single to left.  I grounded to short in my second at-bat.  We really didn't keep score.  The managers wandered field to field identifying guys who could play, especially pitch, and guys who couldn't play that great.  Thankfully, we didn't know who fell into which category.  After the game we were able to dump our uniforms and anything else we wanted washed into tubs and they would magically appear back in our lockers in the morning.  Kind of like our moms were there.

From left, Jason, Dave, Ken, Joe, Mike, Mike, Jeff

Haber threatened chin music on the night of Day 2 and he delivered it on the first pitch to Joe on Day 3.

Day 3 was a good day. I could still walk and I went 3 for 5. This was after one of the singles.

It drove Karen crazy that as of 11pm Saturday I had not actually packed anything.  But Roy Kaplan told me that at least one time he packed at 3 in the morning before heading out.  By 12:30 I was ready to go with charged camcorder batteries and Kodak Easyshare loaded on my laptop.  The cancelled United flight meant a half hour more sleep and a 90 minute earlier arrival in Ft. Myers.  Karen graciously awoke at 5:15 to take me to the airport.  Don't ya just hate those cheery, bubbly morning people?

I was a lucky pat-down candidate at ORF.  Maybe it was the combo of the dark home jersey and the Red Sox hat that got me singled out.  At the end of carry-on search, a TSA supervisor tapped me on the shoulder.  "Are you from New England?"  "No, I'm from here.  I'm going to the Red Sox fantasy camp in Ft. Meyers.  You know, go hang out with my childhood hero Carl Yastrzemski and a bunch of old guys like me for a week."  The man, a little older than me it seemed, got a knowing grin on his face. "Really?", he said. "I grew up in Mass and I played high school ball with Tony Conigliaro."  He proceeded to pull out his wallet and displayed a Red Sox Nation credit card.  I'll swear   it was because I was wearing a short sleeve shirt and the room was cold that right then I got goose bumps.  "Wow", I replied. "So you played with Tony C?"  "Yeah, I got to know Dwight Evans and Jim Rice and a lot of those guys.  I also played for the Tides (Triple A affiliate of the Mets in Norfolk at the time) for five games as a try-out in 1975."  "That is so cool.  I'm hoping to meet some of them this week."  I reached out and offered a fist pump which he reciprocated.  He offered me good luck and I said something about all I wanted was to not blow out a hammy.

At the gate a couple of minutes later, a young man with a military haircut came up to me and said, "do you live in Massachusetts?"  "No", I replied. "I lived there when I was ten.  I'm headed to Ft. Myers for the Red Sox fantasy camp."  He said, "sorry to jump all over you.  I'm headed home up there for the first time in a year.  Where did you live when you were there?"  "Sharon, Mass".  "Oh, I'm from Reading.  I've been in Bahrain for the last year."  "Were you serving over there?"  "Yeah, I'm just home for a month of leave and then I go back."  I thanked him for his service and told him to enjoy being home.  I was excited to be on my trip.  I can only imagine how he felt to be going home after a year in the Middle East.

Because of the last minute change from United to USAir, I was middle-seated for the hour flight to Charlotte.  I joked with the other two guys that they put us on the "skinny row".  At 218.4 pounds as of this morning, I might have been to smallest guy in the row.  The guy on the window was an older military guy wearing a khaki sweater.  I asked if he was headed home or headed out and he said, "niether one, really."  I left him alone after that to do crossword and Soduku puzzles.  The guy on my right said hello when he sat down but We didn't chat either.  We left the gate a little early but that didn't do us any good cuz the plane didn't have a gate when we landed in Charlotte and us big fellas had to wait another 30 minutes in tight quarters.

As I made my way to the Ft. Myers gate, I saw another guy in a Red Sox shirt with a Patriots cap.  He didn't make eye contact then but I saw him later on the plane.  When I got to my seat, I saw a Red Sox hat on a guy two seats in front of me in 15F.  I asked, and sure enough, Jeff Adams from Ashville, NC was headed to camp as a 40th birthday gift from his wife.  She had intended to wait until this very morning to surprise him but when she saw the work out recommendations, she decided to tell him on New Year's Eve.  We didn't get to talk much before we had to sit but I found out he'd grown up in Connecticut and had been to many Sox games as a kid.

It turns out Roy Kaplan was on the same plane.  We caught up at the baggage claim. Jeff, Joe Roy.

My niece Kerry is picked me up at the airport and we went to lunch at Shoeless Joe's which is attached to the hotel we're staying at.  She's the oldest of 13 cousins in the youngest generation of Papke clan. Her mom Marcy  is my wife Karen's sister.  Kerry graduated from Tulane a couple of years ago and has already lived in both Ohio and Florida.  She works for Chicos in retail and seems to have her 25 year old act together.

The bar of the hotel in the afternoon was buzzing.  Pitchers Oil Can Boyd and Rick Wise were there, along with Bill "Spaceman" Lee.  My roommate Paul just happened to check in with me.  We had a couple of beers and chatted it up with guys of all ages from all over the US.  This is gonna be great.

I leave you with a picture not of Bill Lee but of his socks. He said these are great for those airport moments when he gets the pat down treatment.   Click on it to look closely. They are not crowns on his socks :)

I should be packed already but I'm not at 11pm Saturday night.  The only good thing is that Karen is sleeping so she's not exhorting me to get the packing done and come to bed.

I spoke to Roy Kaplan today.  He's the camper from Suffolk, VA who is going his 5th year in a row. He called this morning and spoke to Karen.  I called back after golfing today.  I shot a 109- OK I'm a better baseball player than golfer.  Roy shared some insights about tryouts, pitching, hanging with the pros, getting shot by snipers (rounding third and suddenly grabbing the back of your thigh as if you'd been shot), Fenway in August, Bill Lee, Luis Tiant, Number 24 and chatting it up with Yaz.  He also said he's not related to the younger Kaplan camper; he was an early bloomer but didn't have any offspring at age 15!  Roy's wife is joining us mid week.  He promised her he wouldn't blow out his achilles or anything else before then.  He also hopes to get his Dad out to watch at the end of the week.  Chris and John: Kapan says he's not going to take any third strikes!  See, when I told you guys striking out looking was the "cardinal sin" in baseball, I wasn't the only one who thinks so.

My flight down to Ft. Meyers was cancelled.  Sweet.  I had been routed to Chicago and back down on United.  Now I'm USAir through Charlotte.  Karen took care of the change for me.  She's almost carried me as long as my mama.  Look out Red Sox; here I come.

This stuff is supposed to be packed already.

John's team did not "fourpeat" in 2003. The did not advance beyond districts in that year's PONY all stars. He's third from the right with the hair.

We went 2 and out but that didn't dampen the spirit of the parents

Chris, John and Coach Joe upheld the Greenbrier tradition of winning Pony-Colt District and Sectional titles in 2002, which was the third year in a row our league had accomplished this feat. The boys are "baseball age" 15 and 16 here.

We spent 7 years getting the field approved, designed and built for the high school that had been without a field of its own for 37 years. John missed playing on it by a few months. The grass was laid by parents.

The second car I bought for myself. It had T tops and a 5 speed. It got traded in when Chris was on the way.

My first car

John had baserunning savvy early in his career.

Karen's family has been going to Bethany Beach every summer for 40 years. This is the youngest generation in 1997.

"I don't want to watch the boys play any more baseball games", complains Katie.

John was leadoff batter at age 5. He once hit 3 home runs in a game we lost.

Poor form with the glove like that. Wonder how it would feel to weigh 170 again.

Chris was our last batter- the one who could be counted on to drive it out there and knock everyone in.

These are Pinto players, ages 7 and 8. Young John is front row, second from left. Chris is middle row far right, Coach Joe is back row second from right. We went 12-0 while giving all the kids equal playing time. I was on the board so I got first dibs on the team name :)