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.