Baseball
I was an ace pitcher in high school---a phenom. You should have seen me! I had a 95 MPH fast ball, a snapping curve ball, a change-up that had batters swinging before the ball was halfway to the plate, and I invented the split-finger fastball (a.k.a. "splitter). That happened when I got used to giving the peace sign and then accidentally one day I gripped the ball with a peace sign and my fastball started doing tricks. I told my coach about it and he told a scout for the Braves who was coming around with his eye on me (this was 1966---their first year in Atlanta) and the next thing you know it’s all over the Majors. Of course, I never got in credit for it, but it’s the truth.
Then my arm went dead my senior year and the Braves scout stopped coming around. A potential Hall of Fame career evaporated.
At least this is what I told my son when he was playing baseball growing up and he still believes his Dad. If any of you tell him it isn’t true I’ll never speak to you again. A father has to be hero somehow to his own son, doesn’t he?
My son would walk around telling everyone, “My Dad invented the split-finger fastball.” I’d smile and my chest would swell up. It was wonderful.
I don’t follow Major League baseball much anymore, but I do enjoy watching high school and college ball. If only they would get rid of those aluminum bats I’d enjoy it more. There oughta be a law against those nefarious aluminum bats!
One thing you can say for baseball. There is no replay. The play is over, the call is made by the umpire, and that’s it. Out or safe. Three strikes and you’re out. No running to a replay on the sidelines like football or running to the scorer’s table as in basketball. That’s the way it should be. No appeal.
Another nice thing about baseball is that at the high school and college level, the umpires can hear you. You can yell at the bums in blue and yell loud enough so that they can hear you. So can fans around you. So what. It can be so much fun to yell at the boys in blue. Every umpire is blind when it comes to my team. There’s nothing quite like yelling at a baseball umpire, “What’s a matter, ump. Are you blind?”
The last thing I’ll say about baseball is that I hope Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens are convicted. I have no sympathy for either. So there.
Then my arm went dead my senior year and the Braves scout stopped coming around. A potential Hall of Fame career evaporated.
At least this is what I told my son when he was playing baseball growing up and he still believes his Dad. If any of you tell him it isn’t true I’ll never speak to you again. A father has to be hero somehow to his own son, doesn’t he?
My son would walk around telling everyone, “My Dad invented the split-finger fastball.” I’d smile and my chest would swell up. It was wonderful.
I don’t follow Major League baseball much anymore, but I do enjoy watching high school and college ball. If only they would get rid of those aluminum bats I’d enjoy it more. There oughta be a law against those nefarious aluminum bats!
One thing you can say for baseball. There is no replay. The play is over, the call is made by the umpire, and that’s it. Out or safe. Three strikes and you’re out. No running to a replay on the sidelines like football or running to the scorer’s table as in basketball. That’s the way it should be. No appeal.
Another nice thing about baseball is that at the high school and college level, the umpires can hear you. You can yell at the bums in blue and yell loud enough so that they can hear you. So can fans around you. So what. It can be so much fun to yell at the boys in blue. Every umpire is blind when it comes to my team. There’s nothing quite like yelling at a baseball umpire, “What’s a matter, ump. Are you blind?”
The last thing I’ll say about baseball is that I hope Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens are convicted. I have no sympathy for either. So there.
posted by Fred Hudson at 3:30 PM
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