Alright, where to begin? Since I have last updated this bad boy there has been some pretty cool stuff that has happened down here in the Sunshine state. I have made about 6 more starts, against the Phillies, Pirates, and Yankees, been throwing well and now just waiting to hear where I will be spending my season. Hopefully that destination lies in the Northwest which would take me back to Vancouver.
Life is pretty repetitive and days start to blur together going to and from the field, playing games everyday, it's baseball as a job so I can't complain and I don't know too many jobs that aren't repetitive especially as sweet as this one. In the afternoons after our days are done we have time to head to the beach, golf, nap, hangout by the pool, and do other relaxing activities, so I'd say this is a pretty stress free environment.
As I was saying, there have been some noteworthy things taking place. A few weeks ago, Vladimir Guerrero signed with the Blue Jays, for those of you who are asking yourselves who the hell that is, I will supply a brief resume. Vladimir Guerrero or Vlad, as he is called by those around the game, has played in the majors for 15 years, been an all-star many a time, won an MVP, hit over 400 home runs and is more than likely a first ballot hall of famer. He is a guy that many of us grew up watching kill pitchers and more personally the Phillies. When he arrived many of us were star-struck. As I turned the corner coming out of breakfast I saw a man at the other end of the hall walking towards me. By man I mean 6'4" brick shit house with dreadlocks, arms as big as my thighs, and appearing as though Wesley Snipes and Wyclef Jean had a baby and fed it steroids until it was finished with puberty. Despite playing in the big leagues for 15 years the man's English is brutal so I was naturally inclined to use the old español on him to achieve a line of communication. The first day he took batting practice, everyone was climbing on top of each other to watch. Security guards were there to keep out the public (they were a joke, glorified use cell phones to call the police if something happens people... I mean lets call a spade a spade here, what jackass is going to mess with Vlad Guerrero when his dumps are bigger than most people?). His batting practice is a laser show, hitting towering home runs off of buildings with relative ease and never meeting a pitch he didn't like.As Vlad began to get back in his groove, he becomes an everyday player for us and my left fielder on days I pitch, its pretty cool.
So now, in the 2nd inning 2 weeks ago against the Yankees, one of their hitters lofts a ball into left field. Vlad begins to pursue it running as if it hurts and his knees will give out at any time. The ball goes under his glove and rolls past him to the fence. I begin to curse him and everyone of his family members in every language I can think of knowing anyone else in the world can make that play. As he loafs after the ball, which is now lying still against the fence, the runner rounds second to go to third. Shouts of 3, 3, 3 echo and it appears as though Vlad hits a switch in his head. He grabs the white ball (looking like an aspirin tablet in his bare-hand) and with the wrath of God, the mammoth Caribbean man unleashes a missile that hits the third basemen in the chest, stopping the runner 15 feet short of the base who raises the white flag admitting defeat. The entire complex starts laughing, struck with amazement and wondering if Vlad had just baited that poor kid into being his lunch. As he walked off the field I gave him a hug and a firm slap on the butt and crossed that off the bucket list. Hands down one of the coolest things I have seen on a baseball field. Since I have been down here, I have crossed paths with the likes of Jim Thome and Ryan Howard and I'm sure Roy Halladay and Chase Utley will be around the Phillies complex shortly. For all those Phillies fans out there, Ben Francisco is down here rehabbing with us...yes I can hear you voicing your displeasure, but needless to say, he is just a name drop.
So that has been whats going on from a baseball standpoint. Life wise, everything is good, Kelsey visited me for a week over my birthday which was great. We had a blast and it was awesome to see her. All the guys down here went to the Tampa Bay Rays vs. Jays game down here. We took two buses from the complex to the Trop (the Rays field) and sure enough the breakdown went something like this. The latin players filled one bus, the english speakers filled the other. As if this scene was directly taken from Remember the Titans, Denzel should have stepped in and put offense on one and defense on the other. It was a laughable scenario that Randy Thompson and I tried to embrace by bringing an olive branch from our bus to the latin one. Our gesture was greeted with smiles and then loud boos and a hurricane of spanish curses and insults informing us of their displeasure with our boarding of their bus. Point...Latin America. Other than that, not much has been going on. We have been on a monopoly binge at the hotel and golf has become a hobby although I am as bad as it gets.
Until next time...I'm just going to keep throwing it and getting outs, working hard and moving forward. I'd like to extend congratulations to the West Chester Baseball team on their national championship as well as to Coatesville High School (my alma mater) on their run in the state tournament right now. Keep looking up.
-Ben
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Spring Training...hitting the ground running is key
Hello again folks, it has been a while and time to get back on the blog to update where I stand and what life is bringing.
After a long off-season of running, lifting, and throwing along with spending time with family and friends, it came time to head south again and play ball. I drove the Red Renegade (my red Honda civic) from Coatesville, PA to Dunedin, FL making pit stops in Morehead City, NC to see the Mclaughlin family (my former host family from college summer ball) and in Spring Hill, FL to see Grambo (my grandmother). 1100 miles later I pulled into the Baymont Inn to find BMWs, Jaguars, Escalades, Camaros, and a cup waiting for me...well not me but my urine, proving I had not taken up steroids while separated from baseball. Day 1 was physicals, as I'm sure some readers may remember from last year, the first day is centered around making sure no damaged goods are entering the complex. All went well and I had my uniform waiting for me in my locker. It is good to see so many guys that you haven't seen in months. Kind of like those first couple days when you get back from summer vacation and you have catching up to do. Yes whether it was in Spanish or English, I was doing some talking.
The days start early, waking up at 630 Monday-Saturday (Sunday is our day off, ipso facto Saturday is the night to let down our hair) and being at the field between 7 and 715. Usually I have to get a lift in, which those of you who know me will find rather odd considering I made various declarations of static stretch days in the Temple weight room while in school. However, a new leaf has been turned over and now that it is my job to stay in shape I find it much easier to motivate myself. As I'm sure you can remember, we have our chef cook us breakfast every morning which then follows with some casual conversation in the clubhouse before stretch. Every morning we stretch, condition, and throw. After throwing we do our fundamental for the day (fielding practice, bunt plays, pick-offs, etc.) and then head over to shag BP (batting practice). You gotta love BP in the minors. There is more grab-assing in the outfield than in a dive strip bar. People telling stories, jokes, would you rathers, and when a ball comes in the vicinity, you figure out a way to pick it up with out missing a punch line.
After BP we head into the lunch room where food is waiting for lunch before the games in the afternoon. Every day we play a game against one of the teams that have spring training down here in Florida. We usually make it make to the hotel at about 4 o'clock and have some time to relax before dinner is served and sleep is to be had. My first game was against none other than the Phillies...yes the team I grew up loving and watching. I'm sure you are thinking "that had to awkward" and my response is well yes and no. Do I feel bad getting out their hitters? Hell no. But is it odd to be looking across at the other dug out and seeing phillies uniforms? Absolutely. My first outing went well as they are building me up inning by inning. I went 1 inning with 2 strikeouts (k's) and 0 hits. Not bad for my return to competition.
After a few days of throwing and working on some things, it came time to throw again, and that time was today. I got my first start of the spring, just scheduled to go 2 innings this time against none other than the Yankees. Yes the Yankees. The most unlikeable team in any sport in north America. The team that has more bandwagon jumpers than every other team combined. The team that if Ghandi pitched against, would hit a guy on purpose. Where Navy blue pinstripes are a declaration of war, and what do to me what the color red does to a bull. Even the water, that they hose down the fields with at their complex comes from the marshes and smells like a 5-year old hard-boiled egg that just came from a New York City bum's pocket. Yes it is those scoundrels, those Yankees...now you get how I feel about them? Anyway, when my day was done it read 2 innings, 1 hit, 0 runs, 5 ks. Not bad I'd say. As we left the Yankees complex, I stuck up my hands with 2 birds from whence we came and a shit-eating grin that would make George Steinbrenner want to slap me.
My arm has felt great since I have been down here, and I know that if I am healthy and continue to feel good, success will continue to come. The reality is that despite the fact the days are fairly long and rather repetitive, I thank the good Lord everyday for giving me another day to play, not to mention for not making me a Yankee. Going to keep working hard and give it my best shot everyday I am given to play. Until next time, keep looking up.
-Ben
After a long off-season of running, lifting, and throwing along with spending time with family and friends, it came time to head south again and play ball. I drove the Red Renegade (my red Honda civic) from Coatesville, PA to Dunedin, FL making pit stops in Morehead City, NC to see the Mclaughlin family (my former host family from college summer ball) and in Spring Hill, FL to see Grambo (my grandmother). 1100 miles later I pulled into the Baymont Inn to find BMWs, Jaguars, Escalades, Camaros, and a cup waiting for me...well not me but my urine, proving I had not taken up steroids while separated from baseball. Day 1 was physicals, as I'm sure some readers may remember from last year, the first day is centered around making sure no damaged goods are entering the complex. All went well and I had my uniform waiting for me in my locker. It is good to see so many guys that you haven't seen in months. Kind of like those first couple days when you get back from summer vacation and you have catching up to do. Yes whether it was in Spanish or English, I was doing some talking.
The days start early, waking up at 630 Monday-Saturday (Sunday is our day off, ipso facto Saturday is the night to let down our hair) and being at the field between 7 and 715. Usually I have to get a lift in, which those of you who know me will find rather odd considering I made various declarations of static stretch days in the Temple weight room while in school. However, a new leaf has been turned over and now that it is my job to stay in shape I find it much easier to motivate myself. As I'm sure you can remember, we have our chef cook us breakfast every morning which then follows with some casual conversation in the clubhouse before stretch. Every morning we stretch, condition, and throw. After throwing we do our fundamental for the day (fielding practice, bunt plays, pick-offs, etc.) and then head over to shag BP (batting practice). You gotta love BP in the minors. There is more grab-assing in the outfield than in a dive strip bar. People telling stories, jokes, would you rathers, and when a ball comes in the vicinity, you figure out a way to pick it up with out missing a punch line.
After BP we head into the lunch room where food is waiting for lunch before the games in the afternoon. Every day we play a game against one of the teams that have spring training down here in Florida. We usually make it make to the hotel at about 4 o'clock and have some time to relax before dinner is served and sleep is to be had. My first game was against none other than the Phillies...yes the team I grew up loving and watching. I'm sure you are thinking "that had to awkward" and my response is well yes and no. Do I feel bad getting out their hitters? Hell no. But is it odd to be looking across at the other dug out and seeing phillies uniforms? Absolutely. My first outing went well as they are building me up inning by inning. I went 1 inning with 2 strikeouts (k's) and 0 hits. Not bad for my return to competition.
After a few days of throwing and working on some things, it came time to throw again, and that time was today. I got my first start of the spring, just scheduled to go 2 innings this time against none other than the Yankees. Yes the Yankees. The most unlikeable team in any sport in north America. The team that has more bandwagon jumpers than every other team combined. The team that if Ghandi pitched against, would hit a guy on purpose. Where Navy blue pinstripes are a declaration of war, and what do to me what the color red does to a bull. Even the water, that they hose down the fields with at their complex comes from the marshes and smells like a 5-year old hard-boiled egg that just came from a New York City bum's pocket. Yes it is those scoundrels, those Yankees...now you get how I feel about them? Anyway, when my day was done it read 2 innings, 1 hit, 0 runs, 5 ks. Not bad I'd say. As we left the Yankees complex, I stuck up my hands with 2 birds from whence we came and a shit-eating grin that would make George Steinbrenner want to slap me.
My arm has felt great since I have been down here, and I know that if I am healthy and continue to feel good, success will continue to come. The reality is that despite the fact the days are fairly long and rather repetitive, I thank the good Lord everyday for giving me another day to play, not to mention for not making me a Yankee. Going to keep working hard and give it my best shot everyday I am given to play. Until next time, keep looking up.
-Ben
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