The Slow Hook

[roncollins]

The Slow Hook
Written by Casey Neal
Daily Log of a Fresh-faced College Graduate
May 11, 2013

Over three-and-a half million people came to Farmer Field to see the Florida Featherheads last year. The team has been in the black since the PEBA's second year of existence, and 2013 doesn't look like it's going to be much different. We follow San Antonio here – except it requires us two days to drive here because Annie loses a water pump and it takes a half day to get her going again.

The Featherheads are a proud franchise in the bloom of their existence. They won a title two years ago and have a pair of Dixie Division pennants. Their park is open and expansive but has a small, old-timey feeling to it, as the seats are all close in to the action. The place holds 50K and it's jam-packed at 2:30 on this beautiful 68° day when the game starts.

Florida's Chris "Moondog" York is up against the Calzones' Kelly Burns. York is a 23-year-old kid who was up for a couple games last year. He's been a closer down in the minors, and a good one, picking up 43 saves over the past two seasons. He's got a slider and splitter, but all Don-o and I want to see is that magnificent 100 MPH heater. He's struck out more than a hitter an inning everywhere he's been.

"Strange he's a starter," I say.

"Effortless," Don-o replies as Moondog throws his warm-up tosses. At 6'0", 210 lbs., you wouldn't think that he could generate that kind of power, but his motion is like watching a well-oiled slinky.

"He's no Markus Hancock, though," say.

Don-o raises his eyebrows but doesn't say anything.

Hancock or not, Moondog sets the Calzones down on nine pitches. Burns gives a leadoff single, then gets both Yoshino Miyata and George Riley. This is a rare event because both these guys are as likely to throw down .400 OBP as they are to breathe.

"I miss Yoshino," Don-o says.

"Number 1 on the scorecard, number 1 in your heart," I reply, nodding.

I still remember going to the park in Duluth when Miyata was a Warrior in the league's earliest years. He was a two-time All-Star and an All-Leather centerfielder. He got on base and he could steal one when the other team wasn't looking. Naturally, the Warriors traded him… for Aaron Campbell, a guy who played two years and never hit .240, and Kirby Gibson, who went 15-18 for us in two seasons and is now rotting away over in Japan somewhere. Miyata, meanwhile, has made three more All-Star teams and appeared in a few dozen playoff games.

Keith Eby starts the scoring off for the Calzones in the third by ripping a 2-0 fastball into the bleachers in deep to left. They scratch out a second run in the fourth on a hit, a steal and an error. Florida gets one back when Luis Torres hits his 12th homer of the young season, but San Antonio takes their 2-1 lead into the fateful eighth.

Burns gets Miyata to fly out to start the inning. Discounting the mistake that Torres made him pay for, the Calzones' right-hander has been masterful so far today, but as Miyata flies out, Burns finds himself out of gas. You can actually see it as he steps up the mound. He's tired, sweat-drenched and ready for the shower.

Riley works him to a full-count walk. Torres draws another free pass on only four pitches. Now it's past obvious to anyone that Burns is done at this point – everyone except Calzones manager Manny Aguilar and pitching coach Carlos Garza. They not only leave Burns in to walk the bases full on a 3-1 count to Tsumemasa Morimoto but leave him out there to face Kwang-chih Zhu. Burns escapes major damage when Zhu lines out to second. Clearly, now was the time to grab the hook, but no… Aguilar gives Burns the old vote of confidence, and Burns proceeds to throw Kevin McNeill four pitches that would have walked Mario-freakin'-Sánchez.

Brock Brett then singles in the go-ahead run. Only then does Aguilar brings in Armando Tapia, a journeyman minor league rubber-arm who gets the last out.

Florida's manager is Jaime Sánchez, and he hasn't fallen off the turnip truck just yesterday. He's a playoff team-caliber manager, and he don't look no gift horse in the mouth. He goes straight to Michael Smallbridge, who shuts the Calzones down for his seventh straight appearance with a save.

Don-o looks sick as he watches the game play out.

"Are you okay?" I ask. "Bad brat?"

Don-o shakes his head. His complexion is going green, and I seriously think he's going to puke.

"Seriously, dude, what's wrong?"

"Aguilar's gotta be on the take," he says in a sudden burst. He tries to take a deep breath. "There's no other explanation for that."

I sit with him and talk. It's clear that this single act has truly bothered him. No, not bothered him – it's deeper than that. This event has seriously hurt him someplace deep, someplace that he had never been hurt before. I see him then, pressed-up against the green wall of Elysian Fields, and I see him standing with his arms outstretched in the darkness as the ghost of Willie Mays flashed in the outfield. I look at him in a new way. Seriously, I'm thinking about voodoo and witches and ESP and The Omen. Something really bad is going down. It is like all the blood has been drained from his face, and I'm struck with the crazy-pole idea that the mere concept that Manny Aguilar has been betting on baseball has caused my friend this abstraction, this disease of the heart and of the blood.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I've been dropping again, that I'm tripping out on a Saturday afternoon, but I'm not. I'm straight as a damn arrow and have been for a while now. This has me absolutely stone-cold jittery. I am not freaking equipped to deal with this kind of juju.

I put my hand on his forehead like my mom might have. He’s hot and shaky, but he grabs my hand as I start to go get an attendant. I wait a minute, and he blinks hard. Finally, he seems to be in control.

"Let's get a beer," he says. "A beer will do me good."

And that's what we have. A beer. A quiet beer in a bar outside the park. Then he's ready for bed.

It's only 7:15 in the evening, Don-o is asleep and I'm in the hotel bar trying to convince myself that nothing strange is going on.

#

May 12, 2013

We go to the park the next day, too. This time, Florida doesn't need any of Aguilar's hijinks. They send ten men to the plate and pound out six runs in the third inning, the big belt a three-run triple by Dan Jamison.

F-Head starter Keitaro Kodo is the beneficiary of all this bloodshed, and he coasts to his fourth victory on the year, striking out seven with a clean, efficient barrage of change-ups and sliders that have Calzones hitters off balance all day. Kodo is 18-8 in his two seasons since coming from Japan and has been everything he was touted as being. The final score stands 10-3, Florida over San Antonio.

Don-o is happier as we leave the stadium today, but later that night he tells me he'll meet me in the bar and though I sit there through three tall ones and enough complimentary trail mix to fill me up, Don-o never shows and only comes back to the hotel room late at night when I'm pretending to be sleeping.

[Tyler]

I somehow missed that "Moondog" started a game - and did quite well, too.

They're gettin' close to West Virginia!

[Arroyos]

… the ghost of Willie Mays flashed in the outfield …

I was surprised, and troubled, to find Say Hey's ghost in your latest travel tale. Last I heard, he was alive. Did I miss the demise of yet another childhood hero?

[Tyler]

… the ghost of Willie Mays flashed in the outfield …

I was surprised, and troubled, to find Say Hey's ghost in your latest travel tale. Last I heard, he was alive. Did I miss the demise of yet another childhood hero?

Well, it's 2013 - I think it's reasonable (but very sad) he passed away sometime between 2010 and 2013. Maybe you can write a tribute article and tell us all when.

[Borealis]

… the ghost of Willie Mays flashed in the outfield …

I was surprised, and troubled, to find Say Hey's ghost in your latest travel tale. Last I heard, he was alive. Did I miss the demise of yet another childhood hero?

Well, it's 2013 - I think it's reasonable (but very sad) he passed away sometime between 2010 and 2013. Maybe you can write a tribute article and tell us all when.

Well, for what it's worth, he was not doing well during the post season, even to the point that he was not there for the World Series, and Willie NEVER misses a party...

Then again, Don-O could simply be seeing the figurative ghost of the Say Hey Kid.

[roncollins]

Then again, Don-O could simply be seeing the figurative ghost of the Say Hey Kid.

Yep. The story works either way.