Perfect Pitch

Category: Dailies

  • Three, Two…

    Triple.jpgFinishing up a very busy week at the opera kept me from continuing my countdown to Opening Day in a timely manner, but here’s an attempt to catch up.

    Yesterday marked THREE days.  The word three made me first think of three strikes, and then, the unassisted triple play I witnessed at CitiField at the end of last season.

    Trying to start the season on an optimistic note, here’s hoping we see a lot of TRIPLES by Jose Reyes in the upcoming season. 

    ******

     

    Mets_vs_Yankees.jpgWhile word associations with “two” and “baseball” first brought to mind “double”, I’ve decided to choose for the two-day mark the TWO teams here in New York.  Here’s hoping that the Mets’ 2010 season serves to remind those who have forgotten that there are, in fact, two teams in this here town!

     

     

     

  • Four More!

    img4F.gifThe countdown to Opening Day has now reached the number FOUR.

    Word association with “four” for the average baseball fan would probably first elicit the response, “Base on Balls”, i.e., the rule awarding first base to a batter who has taken four pitches outside the strike zone.

    For some reason, though, the first word I associated with the word “four” was a specific pitch:  the FOUR-seam fastball.

     J. J. Putz’s short tenure with the Mets turned out to be a major disappointment–for him as well as for fans.  Due to injury, we saw very little of him–and he’s not even a Met anymore. 

    Nevertheless, I’ll include in this post the following video featuring J. J. Putz demonstrating the proper pitching grips for fastballs, including the FOUR-SEAMER:

     

  • Spring Cleaning

    2666287395_0714e8a9d0.jpgIt’s almost time to break camp.  By week’s end, Cactus and Grapefruit Leagues will disperse to ballparks all over the country to begin playing “meaningful” games.

    The players are (hopefully) ready, and–after a bit of Spring Cleaning to sweep out the embarassing cobwebs and dustbunnies that have taken up residence on this woefully neglected blog–I will be ready too!

    I’ll begin the revival of Perfect Pitch with a countdown to Opening Day.

    With five days between now and that exciting first Mets game, I have selected as the subject of my first blog entry the Five Tools of Baseball.

    What are the attributes of a Five-tool player? 

    A baseball player that is said to have all five tools is scouting and coaching terminology for a baseball player that has all of the attributes that make a player a ‘star’ or make a player a threat to the opposing team or pitcher.

    These are the five tools (not in order):

    1) Hit for average
    2) Hit for power
    3) Speed (on the bases)
    4) Power
    5) Fielding prowess

    It is quite rare for a player to possess all of these tools, however any combination of the 5 is usually quite adequate to be a competitive player.
    Baseball players from Little League on up to the professional ranks are categorically and positioned on the field according to how much or how little of each of these tools they possess or have developed.

     
    Referenced from Squidoo.
     
    I know Center Fielder Carlos Beltran is considered a five-tool player.  What other players in franchise history have been worthy of this designation?

     

     

  • Pennant Race

    Well, the Mets may not win the pennant race this year, but I just did. 

    BandAidDaysanitized.jpgMy pennant, or banner–pictured above–was selected by the New York Times as one of the top images created for an online “Banner Day”.

     I was surprised and thrilled to open today’s  Times and see my image reproduced on page 13 of Section B.  The banner can be seen online as well:  http://bats.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/07/16/banner-day-2009/.

    If the Mets’ performance and injuries haven’t given me much to smile about recently, the act of creating my facetious banner and having it selected as one of the top five images submitted DID give me something to smile about!

    I’d still take the return of Reyes, Beltran, Delgado and the rest over my name and picture in print…

  • “Church Rap”

    Sitting in the stands next to my daughter at Mets games, my daughter often entertains me with parodies of at-bat music and songs of her own making.

    With outfielder Ryan Church having been traded to the Braves in exchange for Jeff Francouer this weekend, I told her that I could think of no more fitting farewell than to document the “Church Rap”–complete with hand motions that many of us learned as children in Sunday School–that she often performed for me in the stands when Church came up with a big hit.

    So, with heartfelt appreciation to a beloved ballplayer and to my gifted daughter for sharing her time and talents, please enjoy “Church Rap”: 

  • Fowl Play

    turkeyshorts.jpgI’ve had difficulty “singing the praises of the Mets” lately…except in some sort of out-of-tune way.  Thus, the absence of recent posts.

    I keep waiting for the chance to vocalize in a fully supported manner, but this less-than-encore-deserving run of Mets losses has only inspired me to warbling off-key humor.

    Fact:  the Mets have suffered an unbelievable number of injuries (record-breaking?) this season.  Their struggle to stay competitive in spite of this has been admirable if not downright miraculous.  

    I’ve seen and heard it all: 

    “The Mets are playing hurt.” 

    “The Mets are putting a Junior Varsity team out there.” 

    “The Mets just have to tread water until the regulars get back.” 

    “Just wait until after the All-Star break.” 

    “You can’t blame them:  some of these players are minor-leaguers.”

    Agreed.

    But even with those disclaimers and glass-half-full observations, last night’s loss was a new low.

    From F-Mart’s blooper-reel-worthy performance in the outfield to our ace Santana’s bases on balls and dugout temper tantrum, it was a night to test even the most ardent fan’s patience.

    PhillySteakJockey.jpgMeanwhile, in that never-ending side-bar story to any Met fan’s daily digest–hoping the Phillies will at least lose (and barring that, the Yankees)–the Atlanta Braves did manage to help us out: aided by the mere threat of Jeff Francouer donning his magic underwear,

    Go ahead and laugh.  I am.

    Matt Cerrone of MetsBlog recently excoriated manager Jerry Manuel for jokingly looking for his (hidden) offense under the table when asked about the Mets’ bats at his post-game press conference on Sunday night following the derailed Subway Series.

    Maybe, at least in Cerrone’s opinion, Manuel is not in a position to kid around.  And, granted, the Mets’ falling further and further below .500 is no laughing matter.

    I, on the other hand, am in a position to joke around and, in fact, have now arrived at the “what else can you do but laugh” point.

    And with that little prelude in mind, I offer up (with apologies to my Mom, a die-hard Braves fan) some contrasting themes between the Mets’ and Braves’ clubhouses:

    The Mets’ offense has flown the coop and, especially last night, they are looking like a bunch of birdbrains in the field; the Braves are closing in on us, their right-fielder bluffing about lucky turkey shorts.

    The Mets are awaiting the return of Major-League ready jocks; the Braves are talking jockeys.

    The Mets need their A-Team; the Braves are talking G-strings.

    The Mets desperately need the long ball; the Braves are talking long johns.


    baseballbrief.jpg 

     You get the idea.

      

    Laughing keeps me from crying: 

    after all, I don’t want to be perceived as a pantywaist.

     

    Original artwork “Phillie Cheese Steak Brand” From the “Orange Crate Label Series: The Unauthorized History of Baseball in 1-Odd Paintings” (2005) by Ben Sakoguch courtesy of the artist.. 

  • What [Bad] Dreams Are Made Of


    Sherry DeGhelder, St. Louis, MO.jpg“I wonder what it must be like to be Luis Castillo, waking up this morning,”     my husband said on our morning walk with the dog.

    “I’ll bet it all seemed like a bad dream, and then he realized the disaster had not been a dream,” I responded.

    Luis Castillo’s dropping what should have been a routine fly ball that would’ve ended the game with a Mets win but instead resulted in a brutal Mets loss at Yankee Stadium last night no doubt resulted in loss of sleep by the player himself and countless interested parties in the tri-state area.  No doubt, this botched play was also part of many Mets fans’ morning ruminations.

    Thinking of the incident in the context of a bad dream led me to think about my own and others’ nightmares and their origins.

    Even though I have not been in a broadcast studio on any regular basis for seventeen years, my years as an announcer for public radio stations in Kansas and Washington are the basis of nightmares I have to this day: 

    I’m stumbling around the music library, trying to find a CD while the unbearable silence of dead air over the station’s monitors provides the (non-) background music to my insufferably slow search for some appropriate music to play. 


     
    On Air cutout.jpg“Hmm.  A Beethoven String Quartet?  How about a Mozart overture?  No.  I’d have to run back here and get something else longer to follow that.  Hurry!  Hurry!  Just PICK something!”

    It amazes me that the challenges of my professional radio days continue to formulate my subconsious, even many years later.

    Less surprising are the nightmares I have in which I am at my place of employment–the Metropolitan Opera.  These dreams have a recurring scenario:  I can hear the orchestra playing in the pit and the singers onstage.  No matter what I do, I cannot find how to get into the pit.  Yet, the music keeps going and going. 

    I can literally hum along my own part to the music as it keeps going and going, but every passageway I take ends in a dead-end, and the closest I can ever get to my designated chair in the orchestra is looking down into the pit from various high vantage points in the opera house.

    Noah K.jpgBaseball players must have similar profession-related dreams, don’t you think? 

    I bet it would very interesting hearing the details of those nocturnal visions, fueled by each player’s specific phobias. 

    To some, perhaps certain ballparks loom large and formidable. 

    Perhaps batters dream of facing a particularly daunting pitcher:  Randy Johnson in his prime, for example. 

    Those dreams everyone has in which one needs to flee but is running slow-motion in quicksand?  Perhaps the equivalent is that a player’s bat speed has decreased so significantly that he can’t keep up with any pitches at all.

    While I would be curious to hear what happens in ballplayers’ reveries, I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to see the stuff of nightmares played out in front of my very eyes as I and thousands of groaning Mets fans did last night.

    I have a feeling Luis Castillo and that routine pop-up will be seeing one another at night for years to come.

     

    “I Got It”, by Sherry De Ghelder, St. Louis Burb, Missouri, USA.  Oil on panel.

    For information about this work and the artist, go to:

    http://www.sherrydeghelder.com/home.htm

    http://24-7apaintingaday.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-got-it-painting-in-day.html

     

     

     

  • With Apologies to Isaac Newton

    Delgado's hip.jpg

  • Let us SHOOT the players!

    051009.01crop.jpgThe team in the Bronx seems to have a new PR fiasco every time I open the papers.  While I’m usually mildly amused by this, the latest dispute struck home for this fan from Queens.

    The issue in question was that of Batting Practice policy at (the NEW) Yankee Stadium:  namely, who may observe from what location.  Apparently, Yankee brass listened to recent complaints and the policy has already been altered.

    Though not nearly so blatantly elitist, Citi Field’s slight change from its previous BP policy at Shea Stadium has not gone unnoticed either.  Limiting fans’ access to more remote areas than before has incited the wrath of early-arriving Mets fans.  A fellow blogger has started a personal letter-writing campaign in an effort to have this policy amended, and others have followed.

    From reading this blogger’s previous posts, I happen to know that one of the personal pleasures she took from attending BP at Shea was the opportunity to get some great photos of the players.  It was her chance, she recently wrote, not only to see the players “up close and personal” but also to shoot photos the quality of which her Upper Deck seat could not have afforded her.

    Although I have not yet arrived at Citi Field early enough to watch BP, I often did so at Shea.  I, too, cherished those opportunities to train my Nikon on my favorite players.  While I had a great camera and a pretty good zoom lens, nothing I could shoot from my seat in my Mezzanine Box could come close–literally–to the images I shot from vantage points near and behind the dugout on the Field Level during BP.

    I would classify myself as an advanced amateur photographer, and it should be noted that the images I have taken are only for my own personal use.  I’ve not nor would I sell any of my photos or use them in any money-making endeavors.

    Even given my non-professional status, my husband has always been my biggest supporter in this (expensive) hobby.  Not even knowing about the change in BP policy at Citi Field, he surprised me this week with a Mother’s Day present far better than any box of chocolates or bouquet of flowers: an even longer zoom lens.   

    Although we are mostly pleased with our seats behind Home Plate in the Promenade Club at Citi Field, we have noticed that our seats are higher than the ones we occupied at Shea.  The photos I’ve taken from our Citi Field seats have proven that to be true as well.  For this reason, and because he’s just a swell guy, my husband purchased a lens for me that essentially puts me an additional 100 millimeters closer to the action. 

    (The above photo of David Wright was taken with the gift:  a 70-300mm/4.5-5.6  AF-S VR Nikkor zoom.)

    For me personally, part of the shooting problem is resolved.  But would it really be so difficult for–dare I say it–the Mets to follow the Yankees’ lead(!) and amend their current policy to make it more fan- and photog-friendly? 

  • Money Talks…er, YELLS!

    chickenhecklers.jpgThe season is young, and yet you can already feel it at Citi Field:  fans’ expectations are high. And patience is not in abundance.

    Players are already hearing disapproval.  Even fan-favorite David Wright–striking out at record numbers recently–has been getting his share of boos.

    I’ve never booed a player, nor have I booed a performer in the opera house or concert hall.  But I’ve observed many people who are seemingly completely comfortable in doing so.

    I guess my hesitation in heckling is that I give the artist or player the benefit of the doubt that he is doing his best.  The result may be less than I–and perhaps the performer–had hoped for or expected, but I rarely have reason to think that an honest effort is not being made.

    Also, as an adherent (most days) to the “positive reinforcement” school of parenting, I guess I’m just a little uncomfortable screaming antagonisms at others, whether the venue is the theater, opera house, concert hall, ballpark or playground.  The parenting books I’ve read espouse “catching them being good” and then heaping on the praise.  Berating or humiliating a child, this philosophy holds, is not beneficial, especially if the mistake is one from which a lesson may be learned.

    At Citi Field, my sense is that hecklers have been quick to express discontent early this season primarily because of the frustrating way in which the past two seasons have ended for the Mets.  The team’s performance early and midway through both the 2007 and 2008 seasons led fans to believe that it was not unreasonable to expect to see October baseball in Queens. 

    A contending team that inexplicably falls off the charts late in the season–and repeats the exercise the following year–leaves a bitter taste that does not easily go away.

    Although I wouldn’t do it myself, I can at least understand the fan, frustrated by squandered chances, giving an audible voice to his exasperations.

    However, I question the idea, made by some, that money–that earned by players and that spent by fans–somehow entitles one to heckling.

    I often hear fans cite the “outrageous” salaries of today’s ballplayers as justification for calling out a player for a poor outing. (Interestingly, while solo artists can earn thousands of dollars per performance, I have not yet heard an audience member mention an artist’s compensation as justification for publicly voicing a personal commentary.  It should be pointed out, though, that unless you’re Renee Fleming or Placido Domingo, even those large per-performance fees don’t approach the salaries of today’s professional athletes.) 

    Personally, I don’t think the player who has fairly negotiated a higher salary should be held to higher standards than lesser-paid players.  Nor do I feel that, if those inflated expectations are not met, the player should be booed more vociferously than underperforming players who are not paid as much.

    In this time when funds are limited and folks are worried about their financial security, more attention than ever before is being paid to ticket prices.  Both sports presenters and arts organizations are seeing reductions in numbers of series or subscription ticketholders. 

    Not only that, this Los Angeles Times piece leads me to believe that more in the audience and in the stands are feeling that the higher ticket and concession prices themselves entitle them to heckle if they are so inclined.

    This post is not meant as a personal diatribe against the bood-bird, per se.  Judging from this website, there are apparently some who consider heckling a sport unto itself.

    But if some feel entitled to behave in a certain manner merely by virtue of being a consumer, that does make me uncomfortable.

    Freedom of expression is a right we are freely given as U.S. citizens; we have not purchased the privilege. 

    If equating admission price itself with license to publicly express one’s opinion in a derisive manner becomes a more universally held view and if this recession does not turn around any time soon, I have to wonder what kind of entertainment experiences–both on the field and stage AND in the audience and stands–we could find ourselves privy to.