Well, boys and girls, I’m back and blogging. This semester of school was incredibly tough and required my full attention. I barely had times to actually get TO the games, let alone blog about them. Alas, the semester is now officially over for me and I fully intend on recapping games I attend, sharing stories with you and hearing about your experiences.
This entry is kind of like what retailers call a “soft launch.” I know I have a small group of subscribers and people who check back every so often… this entry is for YOU! I’m not going to promote it, I’m not going to post it on my Twitter page yet. This is solely to gauge the audience I have now and for me to share a little something cool with you (also to get me back in the swing of things, I’ve basically forgotten how to blog).
So while The Inherent Dangers laid dormant, here is what I was up to, mostly in pictures and videos:
First I caught Carlos Gomez’s 46th career home run (and 499th career hit) on April 19th:
I got lots of shout outs TV from various announcers for “risking my life” to catch the ball, even more on Twitter. My account (kind of) exploded with followers shortly after the catch. I don’t really like bragging or saying I made an awesome catch, but, you know, I really did make one hell of a catch.
Check out how low I had to get:
One of the cooler things about the catch took place hours later. The highlight ended up being sponsored by Dairy Queen as the “Fan Favorite Moment of the Night” and was placed on the homepage of MLB.com. For a while my highlight and a story about Derek Jeter were flip-flopping for one of the most viewed pieces on the website. Kind of cool if you ask me.
After that the ballhawking came back to reality, although only for a moment. A few days later, April 30th to be exact, I snagged Russell Martin’s 99th career home run. UGH! So incredibly, tantalizingly close to a milestone home run:
It would have been cool to have grabbed career #100. I don’t really know what I would have asked for, I would indeed have asked for something. I just don’t know what. Probably a bat. Whatever, it doesn’t matter now. And it REALLY didn’t matter the very next day, May 1st.
Again a Carlos Gomez game home run made its way to my glove, this time his 48th career home run:
Only minutes later, THIS happened:
That was Michael McKenry’s 17th career home run and my 27th.
A few days later someone told me “you pushed that lady right over to catch the home run” and someone else told me that I almost pushed a child over the railing. If any of you see that in the video, please let me know! (Here is a hint: you won’t see it, because I don’t do that)
A guy has a good day at the ballpark, and people put the squeeze on him. That is just the way it works at Miller Park. Oh, well!
A few days later when the Cardinals came to town I managed to secure this beautiful gem:
And last but definitely not least, I headed to the Mothers’ Day game at US Cellular field to see the Angels face the White Sox. While batting practice was ridiculously boring for a team with Josh Hamilton, Mike Trout and Albert Pujols. The real action developed when game time rolled around.
I managed to grab a few Mothers’ Day souvenirs for my mother who happened to be along for the ride. Here she is modeling her gifts:
We’re not entirely sure who tossed us his wristbands. As of right now, we’re guessing that it was Nate Jones, White Sox reliever (and since I just took my Business Statistics class and I’m in stats mode, I’ll say that with 95% a confidence level). The game ball came from Sox skipper Robin Ventura. This is definitely my favorite commemorative yet, I hope it makes a return next season.
That’s about all there is worth talking about in regards to actual ballhawking. My (regular) season stats are as follows:
-4 game home runs
-(Close to, I think just barely over) 80 cents per ball to the Wounded Warrior Project = about $75 to the WWP so far this season.
Lastly, my social media outlets. I’m on Facebook, but that’s not a ballhawk thing. I’m on Twitter @BallhawkShawn. You should follow me, I’ll follow you back! I tweet about baseball and updates on which baseballs I’ve caught, etc. In fact, I just got a new follower the other day. Maybe you’ve heard of him?
Yep yep. Jose Bautista.
I’ve also made a YouTube channel. I post videos I take at the ballpark during batting practice. I’m just starting out, so the videos are small in number, but as the summer goes, I’ll have tons posted. Probably a few per homestand. Check it out if you have time! Here is one of my videos:
Well, that’s about all the new stuff since I took my academics-inspired blogging hiatus. I’m here to stay this time around. Check back often this summer, I’ll be recapping lots of games and blogging about various baseball related topics!
As always, thank you for reading.
Oh, WAIT! I ALMOST FORGOT! SEND WAYNE PECK TO THE ALL STAR GAME FOR FREE! If you have a few moments to spare, it only takes 30 to 60 seconds, click THIS link and follow Wayne’s steps.
The contest is OFFICIALLY sanctioned by and put on through MLB. All you have to do is nominate Wayne as your veteran of choice and they’ll send him, completely free, to be honored at the 2013 MLB All Star Game. He gave up his entire life to fight for YOUR freedom, this is the least you can do for him. He’s a great person, help a guy out!
Thanks for reading and KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE BALL!
As some of you may or may not know, my family takes an annual trip to Phoenix every spring to take in some Cactus League action. Most of our cool stories and tough autographs come during Spring Training, so to say we look forward to the trip would be an enormous understatement. I’ll spare you all the cliché “oh it is SO hot” and “I’m just glad to be back at a baseball game” nonsense and jump right into the action. Let’s hit the ground running.
Several days prior to our departure, I scanned a Cactus League master schedule, just for fun. I noticed something perplexing on the schedule for the Seattle Mariners: a WBC opponent AND night game. It was clear that the Mariners would play an exhibition against a WBC qualifier, but which team exactly was a mystery. I knew I HAD to be at that game.
First off, if the game wasn’t a night game, we wouldn’t have been able to make it, as our plane landed at noon and we got to our hotel at 3:30. Secondly, we stay within walking distance of the Mariners/Padres complex. Things fell into place quite nicely.
The schedule simply stated “ASIA WBC at Mariners”, so I was expecting to see Team Japan, but when I checked the Peoria Sports Complex website while our plane was taxiing around the runway, I was met with a pleasant surprise: “Team Asia” had now become the Netherlands!
The family put our bags and luggage into the hotel room and rushed to the complex. The Mariners and Netherlands were taking BP on some back fields, which, if you don’t know are basically baseball heaven. It’s the closest you’re going to get to the players. You feel like you’re basically part of the squad. Several of Netherlands’ players came trickling out of the clubhouse, heading to field 2 to begin a full squad workout. This provided a great opportunity for autographs and pictures.
First came Rob Cordermans, my favorite WBC pitcher. Robbie was an awesome dude, signed plenty of autographs and shook my hand and thanked ME for being cool to him. Class act. Robbie and I:
Next came Loek Van Mil. If you don’t know who Loek Van Mil is, well, here you go:
Yeah. He’s over 7 feet tall and the tallest professional baseball player.
A slow trickle of players eventually turned into a steady flow. Players like Andruw Jones, Wladimir Balentien, Andrelton Simmons, Xander Bogaerts and Jurickson Profar came through and before I knew it, practice had begun. Since this was all taking place on backfields, it was impossible to get behind the outfield wall to ballhawk, so I had to stay behind the foul lines:
While the pitchers were finishing up playing catch in the right field corner, I made my move for ball #1 of 2013. I identified David Bergman as my “target”. He finished throwing with Van Mil and stood around. He was manipulating a knuckleball grip when, from about 40 feet away, I asked “let’s see that kuckler, David!”
Bergman (#47) looked at me, looked at the pearly white, brand new baseball in his right hand, and tossed it to the ground in front of him. He began do dig through the pitcher’s ball bag and pulled out the dirtiest, grimiest, beat up baseball I had seen in quite some time. He flipped it over the fence, about 20 feet short, and I gobbled it up in my glove. Baseball #1 of 2013 was officially in the books!
When I opened my glove up, the back of the baseball was showing. Without even inspecting the ball, I turned to my girlfriend and said “this is a Little League baseball”. It was obvious that the ball wasn’t major league quality. The seams were rather big, the surface kind of plastic-y. Brooke (my girlfriend) took the ball out of my glove to look at. She turned it over a few times and said “no, it isn’t, it’s something else,” Oh, okay. It’s an NCAA baseball, I thought. Turning the ball around, we discovered that the ball was acutally a Korean professional baseball league baseball.
Yup, check it out:
One of the coolest parts of being stuck in foul territory was that we were right up against the field’s bullpen. Bert Blyleven (#28) was coaching Shairon Martis on pushing off his back foot and keeping his front shoulder closed. It isn’t every day that you get to be a fly on the wall of an MLB Hall of Famer’s pitching instruction:
Other than that, there really was no action. The Netherlands’ hitters sliced a few line drives back my way, which I retrieved with fervor. BP was soon over, and it was time for the players to head back in. During BP, I managed to get a few autographs from Team Netherlands, from players like Curt Smith, Andrelton Simmons, Loek Van Mil, Rob Cordemans, Jurickson Profar, Xander Bogaerts, and Shairon Martis. Holy hell!
The game started soon thereafter, and it was preceded by a video tribute to Greg Halman. It was very touching.
I’ll keep the game description short, because I’m ridiculously tired, the game really doesn’t count and it wasn’t very exciting. In the first inning, I narrowly missed out on a Wladimir Balentien home run off Jon Garland. I set up down the power alley and Balentien went almost to dead center. I rushed and ran as fast as I could, but I was about ¾ of a second too late.
I had a chance to redeem myself when Balentien came to the plate later in the game, I believe the 7th inning. By this time I was done chasing gamers, and moved on to trying to catch a foul ball. Balentien sprayed a ball over my head onto the concourse over the seating bowl, and I rushed back to grab it. It bounced around a few fenced/restricted areas, and without getting too specific, I got to the ball before anyone else did. I’ll leave it at that.
(I seem to not have any pictures of it at the moment. I SWEAR to you I’m not making it up.)
After the Balentien ball was under control, I headed to the outfield where I found ballhawk TC. We chewed the fat, made plans for the next day and said our goodbyes. The game was over. The day was over. This blog entry is (almost) over.
Can you guys tell I’m still rusty when it comes to blogging? I’m not too articulated or linguistic yet. Like everything else (including my tracking fly balls), it is Spring Training for me as well. It’ll all come back with time!
Day 2 will be much more detailed. I’m SUPER tired as I write, going on about 20 straight hours of travel and baseball. Come back next time to see who hit me THIS game home run:
I’ll leave you with a few photos from day one and two of my Cactus League adventures:
Bert Blyleven signing an autograph for my mom, Sue
Shairon Martis signing my Netherlands team baseball
Here is a picture my girlfriend Brooke took of me way, way out in LF, doing my signature (can I call something *I* do “signature”? Do I have to let someone else call it “signature” kind of like a nickname?) glove flip.
.That’s all. Thanks for reading!
As some of you returning readers and Twitter followers may recall from last season, I’m following in the footsteps of a few other ballhawks trying to give something back in a very “take, me, my”-type of hobby. Last year’s project benefited Pitch In For Baseball. This year, for a few reasons, I’ve switched the beneficiary to The Wounded Warrior Project. I don’t have any official affiliation with The WWP, however.
-What do they do?
The Wounded Warrior Project is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization aimed at rehabilitating our Nation’s wounded soldiers. Their aims and goals can be summed up rather easily.
“To honor and empower wounded warriors; to foster the most successful, well-adjusted generation of wounded service members in our nation’s history. Fun, Integrity, Loyalty, Innovation, Service.”
Through various rehabilitation programs, TWWP seeks to help our combat veterans attain a sound mind, fit body, economic empowerment and community engagement. Long story short, they let our veterans know they’re not forgotten, they’re not alone and they help them assimilate back into American culture and lifestyle.
-How do I pledge?
That’s a great question! The answer is relatively simple, cheap and fulfilling. During the regular season, I average roughly 300 to 375 baseballs caught. Some of them are significant, and some of them are very mundane. My goal for this year is 350.
I’ll ask donors to pledge on a per-ball basis. Essentially, if someone were to pledge $0.01 per ball, at the end of a season, assuming I perform at an average level (350 baseballs caught), the donor would be reminded of their total pledge, which in this case would be roughly $3.50. Pledges are not locked in, and merely a pledge. You don’t need to donate the full amount, or any at all for that matter, just what you feel comfortable with. Pledges can be made anonymously, or if you’d like, I can add you to the master list of pledges that I’ll be updating throughout the season.
-If someone were to pledge $0.02, their expected donation would be roughly $7.00.
-If someone were to pledge $0.05, their expected donation would be roughly $17.50, et cetera.
Basically, you come up with an amount you’re comfortable donating at the end of the year, say, $10. Since I’m expecting to catch 300 to 350 baseballs, you would pledge 3 cents per baseball I catch.
$0.03 x 350 baseballs = $10.50 electronic donation in October.
Your pledge x Total baseballs caught in 2013 = Final amount donated
-Anything else I should know?
Here are a few more little factoids to possibly help persuade you to pledge:
-I don’t see a penny of the money, ever.
-I don’t handle the money, and will actually refuse cash donations. It can get sketchy and people can make off-the-wall accusations that way, so I’m just going to avoid it altogether.
-All donations are tax-deductible (but, as usual, you should consult a tax professional before claiming the deductions).
-If someone pledges $1+ per ball and makes the full donation, I’ll personally buy you a ticket to a late 2013 game at Miller Park. I’ll feed you, buy you a few age-appropriate beverages, and you can keep any baseballs I snag that day, (!)excluding(!) a game home run. Essentially, I’ll give you ballhawking lessons! Also, I’d like to see some sort of receipt of donation before our adventure, just to make sure everything is kosher!
-Do you want to pledge a high amount per ball, but are worried that I’ll go crazy, and snag 700 baseballs? First off, I won’t, but that’s not the point. Pledge your amount, and denote a pledge ceiling. “I’ll pledge a quarter per ball, up to $20.00,” for example.
-Last season, several people also made “bonus pledges” for game home runs I catch. That’s also a very cool option. Last season, each game home run I caught was worth an additional $9.
Personally, I don’t see a reason someone COULDN’T pledge!
Contact me via a comment here, or on Twitter to pledge!
Let’s do some GREAT things this season, while having an even better time!
Currently (3/7/13) we have 4 donors totaling $0.87 per baseball. We need to grow this number!
On 9 January, 2013, the Baseball Writers Association of America, or BBWAA, releases the results of the 2013 Hall of Fame voting. I’m going to assume since you’re reading my blog, you’ve got a decent grasp of what that really means. Overall there’s a long drawn out process overshadowing the whole thing, so just in case here are some basics too get you up to speed:
- In order to vote for the Hall of Fame, you need to be a BBWAA member for at least 10 years.
- This year’s ballot features players from 1993 and later, but also not after 2007.
- This year’s ballot features 37 players.
- If a player receives <5% of the vote, they are not featured on the ballot the next year, players receiving 75% or more of the vote are inducted into the Hall.
- Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Sammy Sosa, Mark McGwire and Rafael Palmeiro are on this year’s ballot, which is gaining notoriety for being “the steroid ballot”.
Long story short, this is going to be a tough ballot, probably one of the most scrutinized in history, no matter which direction it goes. Why? Because as baseball fans, we still haven’t figured out how to memorialize the “steroid era”. Do we celebrate it? Do we shun the players? Do we forget it? Do we chalk it up to “not cheating is not trying”? The debate on how to handle steroid users and the Hall of Fame is as hotly contested in baseball circles as the Fiscal Cliff is in Washington, DC (Wait, never mind. Those guys don’t do anything.)
Before we go any further, I’d like to say that this is MY blog. This is how I feel. This is how I would vote, and how I think the game should be conducted. If you disagree with me, don’t just tell me, tell me WHY. Articulate your thoughts and arguments. Keep in mind this is written from a fan’s perspective. It is important to understand that I do buy into some former player’s analysis that nearly “everyone” was juicing. I believe it, and it’s part of who I am as a baseball fan and plays out in my decision making process. Yes, I do make some assumptions, but in life you have to make some assumptions to get anywhere.
But I digress. I recently read an article by Tom Haudricourt, the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel’s baseball writer, BBWAA member, and Hall of Fame voter. He explains in his article that when he saw the names of four of baseball’s most scrutinized, suspected performance enhancers,
“Remembering the ‘innocent until proven guilty’ foundation upon which our nation’s legal system is based, [he voted for] all four names.”
Which names were they? Bonds, Clemens, Sosa and Piazza. This specific quote incensed me. Here’s where I begin the rant.
The Baseball Hall of Fame is our place, as baseball fanatics, to exalt what we are most proud of, the players who displayed excellence on, off the field and everywhere in between. But, let’s get real here. These guys play a game for a living. They, in reality, are just performers, purporting our chosen outlet of relaxation and consumption.
What do I mean by that? Baseball is ours. Fans might not be making the billions of dollars that MLB incorporated does, but that doesn’t make MLB, Inc. the owners. Without us, professional baseball is nothing. There is no need for people to play baseball professionally; there is no need for vast spring training complexes or sprawling big league stadiums. Baseball is the fans. The Hall of Fame is the fan’s. The writers don’t work for newspapers, they work for us. The players don’t play for owners, they play for us. Long story short, baseball is for the fans, and the fans should be the driving factor behind all pertinent decisions. I’m not exactly advocating an all-fan vote for the Hall of Fame, which would probably be a miserable failure. But, what I am suggesting is that the Hall of Fame, while deciding the criteria may be tough and voting not easy, doesn’t belong to the BBWAA or baseball… It belongs to the fans, and the fan’s sentiment of the period should be reflected in commemorating the era’s greatest.
The baseball Hall of Fame is not a jail, its voters not judge nor jury, and its final tallies not the proverbial gallows. To espouse an “innocent until proven guilty” mantra when debating the admissibility of performance enhancers is erroneous. I say again, they play a game. I love baseball very much, more than most things, but, it’s a game. To say that someone is entitled to immortalization in the Hall of Fame is outlandish. Baseball players are indeed entitled to many things, their paychecks, freedom of speech, and the constitution in general. Under close examination and research, it was found that enshrinement in the Hall of Fame is not, I repeat, not, included as a guaranteed inalienable right.
I feel that the Hall of Fame is a place for the fans to display the players, games and memorabilia we cherish most. The Hall of Fame is our chance, as baseball fans in 2013, to say to future generations, decades from now “these were our best. These are the men and women we are most proud of. This is who we were, as baseball fans. Model yourselves after these people. This was greatness.”
Some day when we’re all stale and shriveled up, walking with a cane taking our grandchildren on a proverbial walk down baseball memory lane, do you want to look at a generation of cheaters, motivated largely by money disregarding safety, risking their lives and say “those were our heroes”? Would you be proud if every team was made up of 25 Barry Bonds? If each game was the San Francisco Bonds versus the Chicago Sosas, would you be happy to watch that as a true baseball fan?
Detractors like to counter this argument with questioning current members of the hall of fame. Baseball players have been cheating for as long as there has been baseball, they say. While this is true, it is the nature of the beast! In baseball’s infancy, the game lacked identity. Anything went. Spitballs, emery balls, beanballs, hard slides, doctored baseballs; the list goes on and on. In baseball’s early years, we were still figuring out what exactly it was. Towards the beginning, it really was just about the love of the game, playing hard and winning. They weren’t set for life for simply playing baseball. They cheated because it was part of playing your hardest. Today, players are motivated to cheat largely for the money. Then, baseball was played in back lots, muddy fields by hard working men playing because they loved the sport. It was part of the culture. To sum this up, I like to think of “baseball” as a person. When someone is a child, you don’t prosecute them for breaking a law. They don’t know any better. Children don’t know. However, when someone is an adult and break a law, they’re often prosecuted to the fullest extent the law provides. They knew better. Back when baseball players cheated left and right, doctoring the ball, fixing the game, etc., they didn’t know any better. Baseball was an identity-less entity. Today when baseball player cheat, they know better. We know what baseball is, and what we want it to be. As members of 21st century America, the dangers of steroids and the petulance of greed and poor moral character are supposed to be things we know to avoid with fervor.
While excluding players from the Hall in baseball’s early years would doom them to anonymity, today things are different. Keeping players like Bonds, McGwire, Sosa and company out of the Hall of Fame will not sentence their memory to death. We live in a digital age, video footage, pictures and media will live forever. They will not be forgotten. Let their memory live on, in the exact way we see them today; great enough to be remembered, but excluded because of suspicion and dirty deeds.
I know who I am as a baseball fan. I know who I am as an American. I know how I want the game I love to be remembered. It deserves better.
Keep the Hall clean.
Some of you loyal visitors may have noticed a change in my blog’s moniker about two weeks ago. When I began my blog way back when, I had initially intended to not only blog about ballhawking but to also weigh in on a variety of baseball topics in general, giving you my “view” both on contemporary baseball matters and my literal view from the bleachers. The Ballhawk’s View was born.
Tee-hee! Look at how cute I was back then! 13 game home runs. You rookie, former me.
A season or two and one forgotten password later, a new blog was born, and The Ballhawk’s View Part II came into existence. Around this time, my baseball thoughts (mostly complaints) were relegated to Twitter, and the blog basically died.
But now, I’m back into the swing of things and I have my eyes on the top 50 in the blogosphere. The Ballhawk’s View Part II didn’t really have a great ring to it, and I need to change that before I made my break at returning to the top 50.
I had experimented with a few different name changes, most recently 776 to 1: Beating the Odds. But why did I pick that? Some mumbo jumbo news magazine out of Las Vegas placed the odds of catching a ball at a professional baseball game at, well, 776:1. At first, I really dug that title, it had my “lucky” number 77, and those are pretty big odds. Maybe people would think I’m doing something really super-duper awesome. I left that title up for a few days but I wasn’t really feeling it. Mainly because I don’t think that figure is accurate.
While pondering potential titles, I remembered a sign that is posted all over Miller Park: The classic “Watch out for flying bats and balls” warning. I considered using exactly that, but it wasn’t too catchy or flashy. Kind of boring, actually. But I was on the right track.
Every MLB stadium has some kid of warning or cover-our-asses clause in the contract you purchase (your game ticket) to watch the game. Sometimes they post the warnings outside the gates before you enter. I figured that I’d do a little research and find some of the best of those warnings. Why? Because those warnings are cautioning against our very beloved hobby. What do all ballhawks strive to do? We want to catch that ball careening into the stands. We want that bat helicoptering right at rich stiff’s heads behind home plate. Those warnings are what WE thrive on! The search for the quirkiest, wordiest, most dangerous sounding “don’t get hit by a ball” warning was on!
It wasn’t long before I stumbled upon my friend Nick “Happy” Yohanek’s picture from a trip to Coors Field with Ballhawk Kenny Kasta. Coors Field cautions fans about …
“[I]njury resulting from the inherent dangers and risks of observing professional baseball”
That’s Ballhawk Kenny modeling the sign, and Ballhawk Happy behind the camera.
Uh… Did I miss something? Are baseballs tipped with razor blades? Do they explode on impact? Maybe the ushers come over and hit you with lead pipes if you get a souvenir. Who knows, but Coors Field makes watching baseball seem really, really dangerous. Like when you step into Coors Field you’re entering a portal to Kandahar or the Sudan…with landmines under each seat. The sign makes ballhawking sound like being “The Hurtlocker”.
So with some minor editing to accommodate length and fluidity (I just removed “and risks” and “observing”), I had myself a new blog title. Hopefully it makes me sounds like a badass. Sarcasm. But yeah, that’s the new blog title. Enjoy.
Thanks for reading, Mom and Dad! And Brooke! And everyone else!
****In all seriousness though, Coors Field is awesome from what I’ve been told. No ill will intended and any remarks were laced with sarcasm. The people were friendly, the scenery pristine and presentation beautiful. It’s a safe place. Go see games there. Spend your money there. Explore Denver and have the time of your life.****
“You can’t do that here. That’s stealing, knock it off,” a policeman in Kansas City once told me.
“That the coolest damned thing I’ve seen in a while,” an usher in Surprise, Arizona told me about it in 2012.
“It’s illegal, that is all there is to it. It’s also trespassing. If I see it again you’ll be removed from the ballpark,” a Miller Park usher told me in 2009.
“That’s pretty neat. How’d you do that?” asked a Dayton Dragons pitcher.
And finally, “Hey, do you think you could use that thing to get this ball my kid dropped a minute ago? I’ll buy you a beer or something” asked countless parents in 2010, 2011 and 2012.
They’re all talking to me about the same thing, but what is it?
An integral part of any serious “numbers-game” ballhawk’s repertoire, the glove trick can be an indispensable tool. It reaches where your hands cannot, and opens you to countless opportunities to reel in another baseball that otherwise would be impossible to obtain. Some stadiums and their staff view it as dangerous and illegal, on the same plane as lock picks and concealed weapons. Other places, like San Francisco and Atlanta, fans are encouraged to build their own and try it out behind the outfield walls. Be it theft, be it trespassing, be it genius or good clean fun, ballhawks everywhere employ the glove trick.
I’ll be honest and say that I didn’t come up with it; rather I learned it from Zack Hample. I couldn’t tell you where he learned it from, that’s on you to ask him. One thing is for sure: I’m the only ballhawk to use it regularly at Miller Park. People actually have started making spinoffs of the glove trick, none of which really work too well.
A few days ago, I was thinking about naming my glove trick, just for the hell of it. I was going to come up with some fear-inducing, overly aggressive name to brandish across the glove trick itself, a sarcastic jab at the people who call it thievery and trespassing. I’ve come up with a few things, like:
- “Seek and Destroy”
- “Ball Buster”
- “Go-Go-Gadget Criminal Trespassing”
- “The Claw”
I haven’t chosen a name yet, and I’m open to suggestions as well. But, as I was thinking where to write the new name, my next great glove trick idea hit me…
What if I use my glove trick as a virtual “ballhawk yearbook” of sorts?
What do I mean by that? Well, you see, whenever another ballhawk and I share the bleachers, after we initially meet or after BP I’d like them to sign my glove trick and leave an inspiring (or sarcastic, “roast of Ballhawk Shawn”-esque) comment. Kind of like the last few pages of a high school yearbook, yeah?
So beginning in 2013 Spring Training, any ballhawk who I’m ballhawking in the same stadium with will be welcomed to sign my glove and write me a little message, to give me courage, make me laugh or just plain ol’ remember you by. I hope to have a glove full of graffiti by the end of next season!
PS: I’ll be completely dumping my current glove trick for a newer (but actually older glove), stealthier model. It’ll be a black glove with a black string, made of Army 550 parachute cord as suggested by Rocco Sinisi.
Thanks for reading!
I’ll admit it… this coming season I’ll officially be a hypocrite. I’ll be partaking in an aspect of ballhawking that I swore I wouldn’t do. Seemingly everyone does it, but I’ve been battling to stay one of the last ballhawks to abstain from partaking in it. Everyone from Zack Hample to Casey Ward and Matt Sabel, Robbie Sacunas to Erik Jabs… they all do something I swore I’d never do, but I’m finally caving in. Though I always acknowledged the utility of the practice I didn’t think it was “pure”. I said I’d never do it, and in fact I called some people “dumb” for partaking in it.
Have you figured out what I’m talking about yet?
When I catch a baseball or get a broken bat, or really get anything off the field, I prefer to keep it precisely the way it came. When Houston Astros’ pitcher Rhiner Cruz tossed me a bottle of Gatorade last summer, I was honestly tempted not to drink it. The 90-plus degree heat couldn’t persuade me (I eventually indulged, after Cruz gave me a dirty look for not drinking it). When Jeremy Hellickson tossed me a ball caked in wet warning track dirt, I didn’t dust it off, and I placed it gently into a plastic bag only to preserve the ball in the exact condition I received it. Those baseballs, the dirt-soaked, bat-battered ones are easy to identify, but the mundane, brand new, out-of-the-box generic baseballs aren’t quite as easy to distinguish. I’m not one for doctoring my souvenirs, but I am certainly one for documenting them.
Are you still trying to figure out what I’m going on about?
When I’m going through my baseball collection, which is stored in some semblance of chronological order, I usually have a reputable idea of which baseball player threw me or hit me a baseball. While that may seem ridiculous, I assure you I’m not being mendacious. I’m blessed with a photographic memory well above average, and I can pull a baseball out of my collection and 6 to 7 times out of 10 correctly identify its source. However, it is those last 3 or 4 baseballs that have been “getting to me”.
You’ve probably got a good idea what I’m talking about now.
Yes, starting on March 15th, 2013, my first game of the New Year, I’ll officially be labeling my baseballs with the career number on the back, just under the sweet spot on the top of the left “horseshoe” or side panel.
On that auspicious Friday morning, I’ll more than likely (but possibly may not) record career baseball number 1656, and upon reception, I’ll be pressing ink onto ball, in an effort to achieve accurate demarcation, not only for myself but for any forthcoming beneficiaries of my collection.
It just doesn’t seem right to me and I can’t believe I’ll be doing it, but it’s something I must do. It doesn’t make me happy and the idea still repulses me… adding something to the baseball that wasn’t there when I received it? Preposterous! However, what is more preposterous is wasting away valuable parts of my collection in anonymity.
A few random points about labeling my baseballs:
- I’m NOT going to label any game used baseball.
- I’m NOT going to label any game rubbed baseball.
- I’m NOT going to label any baseball that I’m positive I’ll be giving away shortly thereafter.
- I’ll only label batting practice balls.
- Game used and game rubbed baseballs have their own special way of being documented already. They’re place in a plastic bag with a note with all the usual information, and eventually placed in a ball cube. Their documentation will not be affected.
- The career number ball will be written down in a pocketbook with some details, and that information will eventually be entered into a spreadsheet.
There you have it. On March 15th of 2013, I’ll officially be a big fat hypocrite.
Am I forgetting anything? Do YOU label your baseballs? Why? Why not?
Thanks for reading, everyone! My next blog entry will be all about my glove trick and how YOU, yes you, will have an impact directly upon my personal glove trick in 2013. Make sure you come back next time to read and have your influence on my personal ballhawking effect that is the glove trick! Trust me; you won’t want to miss the next entry!
UPDATE #1: Ballhawk Tim Anderson suggests that I used invisible ink/black light combination. I like this idea. Does anyone have experience with this?
UPDATE #2: Milwaukee autograph collector Ben Braden as well as Minnesota ballhawk Tony Voda (by way of suggestion from Mateo Fisher) suggest small sticky-note type labels. Does anyone have experience with these either?
Every winter holiday shopping season, for two days, the Brewers choose to open the depths of Miller Park in an effort of offload past-its-prime merchandise at semi-acceptable prices during the “Clubhouse Sale”. You can find things like Joe Winklesas and Manny Parra shirseys, and if you’re lucky, you can even find a 1980-something set of game used jockstraps. Well, maybe that’s a little harsh. Scratch that, it is too harsh.
The annual Clubhouse Sale is, in exception to Opening Day and Fan Fest, my favorite Brewers event. Essentially, they round up all the older and soon-to-be-outdated-but-still-fashionable merchandise and slash the prices to near and in some cases sub-retail levels. Now that’s just half the draw, the other (kind of) neat thing is that the sale takes place completely inside one of the clubhouses. What they don’t tell you, unless you’re asking for directions and are going to rely on the signs posted above the door, is that it’s the visiting clubhouse. It doesn’t detract from the fun, for me at least.
I’d been eagerly waiting for this event since the close of the regular season, putting a few dollars aside here and there hoping to grab something worthwhile when the time eventually arrived.
The Clubhouse Sale is, rightfully so, a very popular event and draws a huge crowd for the first few hours. One of the ways the Brewers had been keeping the sale “fair” was staggering the stocking of popular items. When the good stuff was gone, it wouldn’t be restocked for a few hours to give people at work or students a fair shake at getting their hands on it as well. I’ll spare you the time, and say it out front: they didn’t do that this year.
I had taken the day off, a Friday, from work so I could try and be near the front of the line. “Gates”, as I fondly and inaccurately refer to them, were scheduled to open at 8am sharp. My wonderful mother and I rolled up at quarter of 7 and saw this line waiting:
Waiting in line was about as fun as that picture made it look. It was cold and windy and wet and cold and rainy and cold and stupid. And did I mention it was cold? Roughly 30 minutes passed and the line began moving inside the doors and paraded to the elevators.
Between them, the two elevators could probably hold about 30 people, so when you got downstairs, you were only vying for a spot with 29 other goofballs. By some fortunate twist, my mother and I were the last ones on the elevator of our segment in line, so we were the first two people off. When we exited the elevator, we saw this:
That’s the underbelly of Miller Park. The field is way to the left and Canal Street is to the right. On game day the players enter straight to the right:
On the way down the hallway, there were a few things that I made a point to stop and take a look at. You may have noticed a yellow line going along the wall. That’s “the line” and if you cross it, you truly experience the wrath of Wilford Brimley V2.0: Miller Park Usher. Don’t step over that line! </sarcasm> But serious, for whatever reason people were really pushy about staying inside the yellow line, even though there weren’t any forklifts or pallet jacks going around.
There was basketball hoop, maybe for the players, but more than likely for the warehouse guys.
There was a menu for game day food prices, but it’s what the employees pay. Are you ready to be enraged? Think about this next time you stop at a Miller Park concession stand:
And finally here’s a sign about “if you see something, say something” which I’m convinced is to remind security to watch out for ballhawks (Kidding. Half way…)
Just past the see something/say something sign was the very beginning of the line. Just around the corner was the door to the clubhouse.
You walk down this hallway,
and eventually turn a corner, walk down another hallway, and it just so happens you walk right by the bathroom. See anything wrong with this picture? Check the mirror:
They stick the coaches in what seems like a janitors closet.
And about 30 feet after passing the bathroom, you see this (borrowed picture):
In my shopping frenzy, I didn’t think to stop and snap my own picture of the clubhouse or the racks within, so I had to borrow that picture off the Brewers MLBlog. This picture was taken 2 days before the sale opened, and one day before there was a special 100 person, exclusive presale. I didn’t even see anything on that table of helmets, or the table of large posters. That’s how quickly it went.
As soon as I got in, I went grabbing for anything that looked cool. It was kind of a free-for-all. My most recent obsession is baseball print ads. I’m postering my entire bedroom with posters and pictures, so I was hoping they’d have something like that available. Boy, did I ever hit the jackpot! First, I went for the signs and print ads, and picked up this generic All Star Game uniform ad, in triplicate:
Then my eyes light up when I dug these bad boys out of the pile. “Wear Your All Star” ads featuring David Ortiz, and a personal favorite of mine, Jose Bautista. I bought two Bautistas and one Ortiz, that’s all they had:
Then gathered a few general Brewers merchandise signs to take up space on my walls in my bedroom:
And, the pièce de résistance, this AWESOME 6 1/2 foot by 4 foot banner, now hanging on my wall:
And for apparel, you can’t go wrong with the Nike Dri-Fit line. It’s my preferred ballhawking attire. The thermal long sleeve will be perfect for April or September ballhawking, and the tee shirts for the middle months of the season.
Before you entered the line to check out, there was one more opportunity for an impulse buy, which I indulged upon. Media guides and yearbooks! If you’ve got the 2012 Brewers media guide, turn to page 72 and you’ll see my picture! I’m in red, being sprayed with champagne by Yovani Gallardo! I had to buy a few.
At a stand down the hallway, you could purchase your last name and number in the Brewers uniform lettering, to put onto a blank uniform. I bought my last name and “lucky” number, and a few authenticated champagne bottles used after winning the NLDS in 2011. (I had to borrow the picture of the champagne bottles. For some reason I don’t have a picture of them on my phone at the moment)
And last but not least, but also lacking pictures, was the “scratch and dent” table. It was the Brewers last-ditch effort to squeeze a little cash out of me. It was basically a table full of things that were defective, returned or stained. I managed to grab a few gems out of the pile of garbage. A brand new Lucroy player tee, with a 1×1 screen printing stain near the buttock for $1 and an originally $220 Brewers road alternate “Milwaukee” variant jersey. What’s wrong with the jersey, you ask? It was originally made to be Jeff Bianchi’s, but they spelled his name wrong, and it read “B I A C H I”. I figured I might as well bite on it for $5. My thought was that someday eventually I’ll get something cool from a Brewer that wears #14, which displays on the front as well as the back. I’ll be able to get the item, be it a bat, a game home run, sweatbands or something framed with the jersey, the misspelled name hidden on the back!
Other than the above mentioned items, I purchased a few tank tops and a “curse the Cubs” shirt for my mom and girlfriend.
And, with that my retail experience was over. That’s all I bought, and would you believe it, I ended up spending less than $200. Not bad, eh? But what a waste it would be to have this exclusive access to the bowels of Miller Park and not wander a little bit? Here’s what I found…
They’ve got a big wall dedicated to prevention of Alcohol compliance violations. There’s a case with some confiscated ID’s on them. Most of them were just straight fakes, the kids on them looked not a day over 16, but there were a few actual ID’s, probably sold to younger people. This one was my favorite though:
Yep. Someone tried to use it, and got caught, at Miller Park. Here are a few posted signs that were inside the clubhouse.
And lastly and probably of least importance to you, when I finished inside, I took a walk around the back of the ballpark.
I found this, and it scares me. They’re breaking ground dangerously close to my season seat location. I don’t know what the hell they’re doing or when it will be done, but I’m afraid my seat may be affected, or movement from the RF bleachers to the LF bleachers may be cut off…
PS, I urge all you generous donors to renew your pledge to PIFB! Contact me via Twitter if you’d like to renew!
THANKS FOR READING!
Hey, everybody! It’s been quite a long time since I’ve blogged, and I understand that it’s going to be tough to earn all you guys and gals back as loyal readers and critics. However, I think this blog will be a nice piece of news for you to chew on.
Earlier this year, while eagerly awaiting my Spring Training trip, my mind was utterly obsessed with ballhawking and baseball daydreams. I couldn’t quite conjure up a train of thought that didn’t eventually snake back to ballhawking or baseball. While I was exploring possibilities to take my blog and persona to the next level (many of which obviously didn’t come to fruition), it hit me like a ton of bricks.
Mateo Fischer, Zack Hample, Wayne Peck, James Connaroe and several other ballhawks are helping various causes with an X-per-baseball charitable promise program. Essentially, for every baseball the ballhawk tracks down, donors will donate some pocket change, pledge to use less CO2, etc. Then, it hit me…
I could follow suit with other influential ballhawks and fashion a pledge-per-ball charity!
Here’s a brief overview of how it worked: a few of my blog readers, Twitter followers and ballpark friends all chipped in a few cents per baseball, and even cooler, several dollars per game home run.
While I explored a few local opportunities and had my preferences on what causes to support, every road seemed like a dead end. While I didn’t want to ride anyone’s coat tails (namely Zack Hample), and certainly wanted to be original and shed light on causes people seldom think about, I was eventually lead back to a great cause in the form of Pitch In For Baseball.
Who or what is Pitch in for Baseball, you ask? One can reasonably infer that its baseball related. Indeed. But what do they do? Here’s an excerpt from their website:
“Kids all over the world enjoy the game of baseball. And through Pitch In For Baseball, even kids in impoverished communities can get the chance to play this wonderful game.
The communities we serve often are struggling for their basic needs. We want to make sure that the kids in those communities aren’t overlooked”
Long story short, they give baseball equipment to underprivileged kids the world over. What’s not to love about that cause? So with one fleeting blog entry and a short email chain later, it was official. PIFB, several generous donors and I would be working together in 2012!
With all pledges tallied, each ball I grabbed in 2012 was worth $1.67. Each game home run was worth an additional $9.
During my 2012 regular season campaign, I wrangled 212 baseballs, 8 of them being game home runs (Jose Altuve, Buster Posey, Brett Lawrie, Ryan Braun, Prince Fielder, Corey Hart, Lucas Duda, Brett Wallace).
Let’s do a little math here…
212 baseballs times $1.67 comes out to $354.04
8 game home runs times $9 comes out to and additional $72
One final addition of my section’s usher’s donation of $20
Drum roll, please! Together, Pitch in for Baseball, my generous donors and I raised…
THAT IS AWESOME!
I’d like to thank everyone involved in the whole project this season. Pitch in for Baseball was great to work with, Zack Hample was more than happy to share his charitable territory with me, several ballplayers who tossed me baseballs solely because of the charity (namely Joel Hanrahan, pictured below) and of course, the generous donors.
Together, we raised enough to put 2 complete teams of Little Leaguers back on the field.
Oh yeah, there was still enough left over after that to outfit another entire infield of kids with equipment!
WOW! All I can say is thanks to everyone involved and who helped with making this a very successful 2012 ballhawking campaign. To the donors, I’ll be contacting you each individually with your personal tallies and what you’re slated to donate.
Lastly, I’d like to announce nice and early this off season, I’ll be working with PIFB again in 2013! I urge those of you to renew your pledges for next season, or tweak them as you please.
Thanks again, and see you in 2013!
A long while ago, Major League Baseball had announced that in 2012, the All Star festivities and the right to host them were awarded to the Kansas City Royals. When the announcement was made, I was just off of a trip to the recently renovated Kauffman stadium. It was beautiful, empty, cheap and ballhawk-friendly. If my family was going to put the time, effort and money into the one-in-a-lifetime trip that is the All Star Game, we would want it to be in a place like Kansas City. Fast forward a few daydream and baseball-filled years, and I found myself here:
Splendid Kauffman Stadium.
Before we get too deep into this entry, I’ll let you know that this isn’t going to be very interesting or eventful. All of the day’s ballhawking action took place during a roughly 15 minute stretch. The rest of the day’s events were centered on (shamelessly) corporate sponsored events. There simply wasn’t too much going on.
With that out of the way, I’d like to introduce you to my traveling party. From here on out, if you catch me using “we” or “us”, I’m referring to the people in the picture below:
From right to left, you see: Susan, my awesome mother, Brooke, my wonderful girlfriend, and boring ol’ me. My father, for whatever reason, chose to forego this trip
Soon after that picture was taken, we retreated to our hotel, which was just across the street and got a good night’s sleep. The next morning, we gathered these:
…and were on our way. Upon pulling into the parking lot, a few things jumped out at us. First off, parking for the Futures Game was only $10. Compare that to your local MLB parking rates.
Secondly, there was a small shanty-like town set up in a corner of the parking lot. There weren’t refugees living there, rather the production vans and trailers of media outlets. Check out all the fencing, trailers and boxes:
When we finally parked and made our way to the concourse, we stumbled upon a few (hundred) concession workers waiting to enter the ballpark:
Along the outer concourse of the stadium were these large, square canvas directories. They had arrows pointing in every direction, for every different event.
Here’s a close up of the map, which was located exactly between gate D and gate E:
See that big blue area titled “MLB & KANSAS CITY HOSPITALITY”? Well, it wasn’t very hospitable. In fact, it was rather inhospitable. Here’s what it actually was:
Just a big, fenced-off circus tent-like area, with several stages set up inside the tents. I don’t exactly know what was going on inside them. Possibly the “studio” for some telecasts or a meeting/relaxation area for players and their families. Later on, after the Home Run Derby and All Star Game, there were concerts being played inside the tents by (really crappy, boring) bands.
Soon, we wandered into the team store. Things weren’t TOO overpriced; they did have a decent markup, but nothing that was incredibly ridiculous. Here’s a picture I took of the player tee wall, which was never really restocked. [RANT] If you’re going to have 2387549987 larges and extra larges left over at the end of the day, and not a single damn medium available, ORDER LESS LARGES AND XXXXLS AND MORE SMALLS AND MEDIUMS! [/rant]:
Remember that big canvas map that I showed you a few paragraphs ago? And how it had a little area called “All Star Sponsor Zone”? That’s where we headed next. It wasn’t anything too special, and I think we got there a little early, as nothing seemed to be set up to completion. Here’s the entrance:
There were a few outer tents surrounding a mostly open area of parking lot. There weren’t many promotional items available, other than smaller-than-shot-glass sized cups of Pepsi and a Budweiser “I’m a GOOD SPORT for being the D.D.” shirt.
One of the cooler things taking place in the sponsor zone was a Habitat for Humanity build, I’m assuming to benefit Joplin residents. It was merely the skeleton of a home, but it was definitely taking shape. MLB wanted to make sure that Kauffman Stadium was associated with the build:
After we finished at the sponsorship area excursion, I ran into a friend of mine just outside the ticket windows. Here’s CBS baseball writer and MLB Network’s Jon Heyman.
Jon’s my favorite sportswriter. Earlier this year during Spring Training, I spotted Jon at a Rangers game, and asked to have my picture taken with him. He was rather surprised and asked if I was joking. Well, the same thing happened again this time.
“Jon, do you have time to take a picture with me?”
Looking rather surprised, Heyman responded, “You want me to take a picture of you guys?”
“No, Jon. I’d like my picture WITH you”
“Oh, uh… um, yeah sure?”
“Jon, you and I took a picture this year before,”
“Oh yeah, down at the Rangers. We took a picture at the Rangers game.”
To my surprise, Heyman remembered exactly where we were and when we took the picture together. He asked my name, thanked ME, and shook my hand. How cool! A few days later, I tweeted to Jon to thank him, and he thanked me back!
There was a random Japanese media event going on. The female “stars” of the filming were dressed really hipster-y.
We watched the World team’s bus arrive, and consequently every player decline to sign a single autograph:
But, before we knew it, it was time for the gates to open. Just outside of the Left Field gate, I met up with Kansas City’s ballhawk, Garrett Meyer. I didn’t get a picture with him, but he’s a good ballhawk buddy of mine.
The line wasn’t too, too long behind us (we were first!) so batting practice wasn’t very crowded, either. The first order of business for Garrett and I were to try and track down a Futures Game commemorative baseball. The closest players were Chris Reed and Kyle Lotzkar, representing The UK and Canada, respectively.
Mister Reed elected to throw the ball, once they were finished, to a pudgy little kid a few sections to the left of Garrett and I. When the kid walked away, I saw him manipulate the ball in his glove, and it was indeed commemorative. The race was on! I had to get one!
In this next picture, note the dispersion of fans. Everyone and their grandmother rushed the front row, all the way around the seating bowl. It may not have been crowded, but most of the “good spots” were taken.
Batting practice was a pretty weak showing. Though they may be tomorrow’s super stars, they’re still today’s minor leaguers. There weren’t many baseballs hit into the bleachers, but I did manage to get one of the bullpen catchers to toss me a futures game commemorative ball. Not 5 minutes later, Mariners prospect Taijuan Walker blindly tossed a ball into the stands, right at myself, Brooke and my mother. Here’s what resulted:
The Futures Game itself was also rather boring. The USA routed the World team by double digits. There were 13 countries and territories represented, and there was a flag for each one of them during the pregame ceremony:
After the Futures Game concluded, the Taco Bell Legends and Celebrity Softball Game was beginning to be set up. Long story short, it’s a bunch of grandpas and sitcom actors playing a women’s sport. I didn’t have much interest in staying or watching it. We retreated to our hotel room, where I took a picture of the view with one of the day’s commemorative baseballs:
The next day would bring the Home Run Derby, where I made a pretty good catch! Come back soon to read all about it! If you’re a fan of game home runs or Prince Fielder, you’ll LOVE my next entry. Hopefully, I haven’t given away too much info!