My Dream Job

Girlfriend, you want to know what my dream job would be?

One word: bobbleheads.

I want to give away bobbleheads.

As in Seattle Mariners Yuniesky Betancourt Bobbleheads Giveaway night. Or be the person who gives out Boston Red Sox Dustin Pedroira lunch boxes and baseball hats. Or that person who arranges for “Kids Run Around the Bases” night where all kids under twelve can storm the field after the Sunday afternoon game and run around the major league bases. Or the best promotional idea ever--Ichiro Suzuki headbands. A martial arts head bands complete with the Japanese Rising Sun. Free to the first 20,000 fans.

Or how about Miller Stadium in Milwaukee where they hold a seventh inning sausage race featuring a hot dog, a bratwurst and a Polish sausage race around the bases while the crowd cheers for the link they think will reach home plate first. When the Milwaukee Brewers hit a home run, Bernie Brewer the mascot (it used to be Bonnie Brewer) slides down a slide into a platform and balloons are released into the air. Back in the seventies, Bonnie, dressed as a Bavarian Bar Maid slid into a very large, distinct stein of beer, and the balloons represented carbonation. Talk about a Milwaukee crowd pleaser! We are more politically correct now.

My dream job is to work as a marketing person for the Seattle Mariners or any baseball team that would have me. Remember I’m the one who came up with the cafeteria tray with the team logo. That idea is looking better every day. Just recently a young boy was attending his first Major League Baseball game in Chicago and was seriously hurt when he got hit in the head with a baseball. Poor little guy! Cafeteria trays with your team logo. You heard it here first.

Seattle, give me a call. I got a million ideas. How about “Girlfriends Run Around the Bases” night with the catcher and pitcher of the home team greeting everyone at home plate with pitchers of margaritas and a customized salt-rimmed-margarita-glass adorned with the home team logo? The Boyfriend suggests having tours where you can stand at home plate in an at bat and feel what it is like for a Major League Pitcher to throw a fast ball down the middle of the plate. Brilliant!

You got to keep the crowd involved. You’ve got them to rally around the team. And you have to build a fan base. While some fans in Boston are trying to kick other pink hatted fans out of the ball park, I think the teams themselves welcome new fans and want to develop devoted fans. Let’s face it, if you really want to watch a ball game, you can probably follow it so much better on television. But that’s not really the point, is it? Baseball is supposed to be fun. Going to a baseball game is supposed to be fun, too. When you go to a live game, you want to watch the game, and share the experience with the other fans around you. You want to be there.

You want to walk up First Avenue in Seattle on a sunny, cool evening, stop at the Triangle Bar right before the park, have a cold Rainier and watch the river of fans stream by the outside beer garden, looking for fans wearing the baseball caps of the opposing team. Then you walk the rest of the short way into the park. And it doesn’t matter if you have been to Safeco Field before, it always takes your breath away when you see the field and you hear the trains’ blare in the background.

Or you want to take the Green Line into Boston and walk down Yawkey Way joining a growing jumble of people in red and blue (and a few in pink) in the narrow streets, stop and have some fried clams with bellies and then squeeze into the narrow aisles and sing along with Sweet Caroline at the seventh inning stretch and wave at the Citgo sign and make a joke about Dunkin' Donuts and swear you are not going to get seats behind a post next time.

Or, as The Softball Diva tells it, you take No. 4 train to Yankees Stadium and find your spot in the cavernous, soon-be-torn-down stadium, order a beverage from your favorite beer vendor, and yell out the roll call at the beginning of each game trying to get all the players of your beloved Yankees to acknowledge you.

That’s what makes live games so fun. That’s why I want to be the one who organizes Stitch and Pitch Night or Resusable Grocery Bag Night. I want to be the one who gets up and sings the Star Spangled Banner. I want to join the team that convinced the management to print up Marineros baseball caps for the crowd to acknowledge the Hispanic contribution to baseball. Or print up the terrible towels designed to distract and terrify the opposing team, or pass out the Rally Monkeys (whatever the hell those things are supposed to be.)

I know, the really diehard fans are booing and throwing tomatoes at me right now (right over the plate, buddy!) or throwing a cream pie in my face to make me leave the field. (Hey, wait, Washington cherry pie night... a pie throwing contest... throwing out the first pie of the evening… I think we got something here!) I know ballparks that sell out regularly like Fenway Park and Yankee Stadium don’t need this kind of hokum. But for me, this is the job of a lifetime. If you can’t play baseball, at least you can “play” baseball.

Meanwhile, if you are looking for a unique gift idea for someone, especially one who is a baseball fan, did you know that you can have your own custom made bobble head made that resembles that person? Check it out at:

http://www.whoopassenterprises.com/

http://www.headbobble.com/index.html

Really, I think this is a great idea! And I got a million more where that came from.

Hey, What is the Guy from First Base Doing There?

Curiosity killed the cat, I know. But what are they talking about? The catcher trots out to the mound, and he and the pitcher engage in some secret conversation, lips hidden from spies behind their gloves. Uh, oh, here comes the Pitching Coach, who trots purposefully out to the mound and he joins in the discussion. Then the third baseman comes in, and the shortstop, and soon even the first baseman is hovering on the side of the group, extending his ear, trying to eavesdrop. What is the first baseman doing there? Is this a team decision making meeting? Does he get to vote? Does he just not want to feel left out? Something’s going on. Something’s happening, Uh oh! Now it’s the umpire jogging his way toward the mound and the group scatters like teens caught smoking cigarettes in the school bathroom.

But then there are the other visits, the visits when the Main Honcho Father Figure Guy strolls to the mound, leisurely, sometimes menacingly, sometime kindly and says a few words, then slaps the pitcher on the butt, and the pitcher takes that long walk back to dugout by himself. I can almost hear the conversation between the two of them. “But I don’t want to go, Dad. I’ll do better. I got one more 91 mph in me.” “Son, we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the ugly way.” Of course, you know who always wins. Except in the case of Grady Little and Pedro Martinez in the 2003 playoff series.

A coach or the manager may visit the pitcher just once per inning. If a new pitcher is put into a game, again, the coach or manager can visit him just once during an inning. If a coach or manager visits the pitcher the second time during that inning, the pitcher must be removed. A coach or manager can also visit a pitcher when the umpire calls a timeout at the request of the opposing team, but the visit has to end when the timeout ends.

“Visit to the mound” is such a friendly term, isn’t it? It invokes images of “Hey, how you doing? Can I get you anything? A coke? A nacho boat, perhaps, from the snack bar? A bit more sunscreen?” Not likely, but a friendly thought nonetheless. If the pitching coach is out there, you know that he is probably talking about how and where to pitch to the batter. Mel Stottlemyre, the pitching coach for the Mariners, is my favorite in this role. He looks like he is having a grand old time out there talking to the players about the game, about the batter, or maybe even about the good old days. If a pitcher looks hurt or strained something or got hit, the coach is probably out there assessing the damage to their investment. If the Main Honcho Father Figure Guy is out there, you know it’s the beginning of the end.

Sometime the manager will slowly stride to the mound, chat with the pitcher a bit, (here comes that nosey parker from first base again!) and make a big deal of the releasing of the pitcher. It is one of those great rituals of baseball -- the changing of the guard, the acknowledgement of a game well pitched, the crowd cheering a particularly fine display of pitching and skill. Sometimes it is more like a stadium of Romans booing a failing pitcher who is having a bad day and is being released well before the fifth inning. Or sometimes it is just the respectful applause of the crowd for the too short glory of a specialty pitcher brought in to pitch to just one guy.

It is during these moments of high drama that I think that baseball parks need to return to live bands or at least a return to the Hammond Organ to add a dramatic soundtrack to the drama unfolding before us. A strike-up of “Fanfare for the Common Man” is appropriate for the pitcher who wowed us with extraordinary skill and precision. Or for the pitcher who obviously is not happy to be leaving the game earlier than expected, a subtle rendition of “Take This Job and Shove It!” might get the crowd riled up.

Sometimes, the Main Honcho Father Figure Guy seems to leisurely stroll to the mound and chat jovially with the pitcher and the other boys gathered at the mound. You think he might be negotiating or talking it over with the pitcher. Be assured, he has made his decision. But if he can stretch the visit out a bit, it can give the relief pitcher in the bullpen just a few more moments to warm up.

Visits to the mound from the catcher are a little different. The catcher is not limited to just one visit each inning. The catcher might go out to the mound to talk to the pitcher if it appears that the signs aren’t clear, or if there is going to be a change in signs, or to make sure the two are on the same page. That’s when you see the stealthy talk behind the gloves so the rascals from the other team don’t use their stealthy-lip-reading-spies to steal the signs. (See Spies Amongst Us entry) Sometimes the catcher goes out there to slow the pace down or calm the pitcher down. Jason Varitek, catcher extraordinaire for the Boston Red Sox said he once walked out to the mound and told the pitcher he (Varitek) just needed a minute to calm down himself after a questionable call from the umpire.

There’s a great scene in the movie Bull Durham where catcher Crash Davis goes out to the mound to tell pitcher Nuke LaLoosh, who is pitching his best game yet, to hit the team’s mascot. It was a ploy to mess with the batter and frighten him because Nuke was getting too predictable in his fast balls. But there is no sign in a catcher’s repertoire to tell the pitcher “Hit the Bull.”

Those kinds of visits I understand. But I’m so curious what is going on when everyone on the team seems to gather at the mound. What is that all about? And what is that guy from First Base doing there, hovering on the outside of the group, extending his ear towards the conversation? It look likes a football huddle from my MOFF (More of A Footbal Fan) days.

There another great scene from Bull Durham of the gathering at the mound that will forever change your perception of what the heck is going on. (Girlfriend, if you haven’t seen Bull Durham yet, run don’t walk to see it, or I swear I will show up at your doorstep late some night with my copy, a bag of Cheetoes and a bottle of cheap wine.)

The game is stopped dead in its tracks and most of the team is huddled at the plate engaged in a serious conversation. The manager tells the assistant manager to get out there and find out what’s going on there.

Assistant Manager jogs out to the mound and says to the team, “What the hell is going on out here?”

“Well, “ Crash (the catcher) says, “Nuke is scared because his eyelids are jammed and his old man is here. We need a live rooster to take the curse off Jose’s glove and nobody seems to know what to get Jimmy and Millie for their wedding present. That about right?” He looks to the gloomy crowd gathered around the mound. Everybody nods. Crash continues, “We’re dealing with a lot of shit right now.”

The assistant manager chews his gum a bit, and kicks the dirt with the toe of his shoe. He mumbles, “ Ah, well, uh candlesticks always make a nice gift and maybe we can find out where she’s registered, maybe get a place setting or a silverware pattern set. Okay, let’s get to it!" He pats the first baseman on the butt and jogs back to the dugout.

That’s another way to make baseball fun. Next time the game stops because the troops are gathering around the pitcher at the mound, make-up your own dialogue. Or mutter out loud. “Candlesticks make a nice gift.” Guaranteed to get a smile out of The Boyfriend.

Spies Amongst Us

The ball park looks likes the most innocent, All American Place to spend a few hours and enjoy our national pastime, but beware! There is more intrigue, deception, spying, code breaking, and intelligence gathering going on than happened during World War II. Everyone is transmitting in code. The manager is signaling the batter. The catcher is signaling the pitcher. The runner on second is signaling the third base coach. The third base coach is signaling the runner on first. And the guy sitting in seat HH218 is trying to signal to the beer guy “That’s two Miller Lites and two regular MGDs.”

When pitching in baseball, there needs to be an element of surprise. You want to throw a batter off his rhythm. You want to throw him something he doesn’t expect or anticipate. But the catcher can’t be surprised by what the pitcher throws or else he might miss the catch, giving an advantage to the other team. The pitcher and catcher need to COMMUNICATE without shouting it between homeplate and pitcher's mound. That’s why there are signs. And that’s why baseball is like the Cold War in many ways. Some people are trying to send coded messages to the good guys and the bad guys are trying to intercept the message and pass it on to headquarters who will plan their actions accordingly.

And to think I once thought baseball was boring.

There are different types of signs going on during a game, and you’ve probably seen at least two of them if you’ve watched a televised game. One is the sign passed from the catcher to the pitcher, indicating what kind of pitch to throw. The other signs are from the coaches or manager to the players, either to the batter, or to the runners on base.

The catcher usually takes charge of the defense and is usually the most knowledgeable about the quirks and preferences of the batter at bat and of quirks and abilities of the pitcher on the mound. So, the catcher calls for a certain pitch by sending a sign to the pitcher who can accept or “shake it off”, which means the pitcher is calling for something different. You’ve seen these signs before. The catcher signs to the pitcher using his fingers between his legs in his crouch. He has to shield the sign with his legs in order to prevent the opposing team’s coaches from seeing it. And believe me, they are looking for it. Stealing bases and stealing signs is acceptable in this game.

Typical signs might be one finger down for a fast ball, two fingers down for a curve ball, three fingers down for a slider, and a wiggling of four fingers to indicate a change up. (You remember these pitches from the last entry, don’t you? You are coming along just fine, girlfriend! ) The catcher may also tap the inside of either thigh to indicate if the pitch should go inside or close to the batter, or be thrown away from the batter toward the outside of the plate. Sometimes catchers will wrap their fingertips with white tape or paint their fingernails with Whiteout to make it easier for the pitcher to see from the mound.

But if the pitcher is able to see one white tipped finger tapping the catcher's right thigh, so can that pesky runner on second who is standing directly behind him. And he has his own signals to flash back to the third base coach who signals to the batter, “STOP. LOOK FOR FAST BALL TO OUTSIDE OF THE PLATE. STOP.” This is where Baseball Culture Meets Spy Culture.

If the United State used a simple code during World War II, such as 1 for a, 2 for b, 3 for c, etc, we would have been slaughtered. Instead, we came up with the Navajo Codetalkers, using Navajo speakers to speak in what was then a totally indecipherable language to the enemy world. Even if the message was intercepted, the enemy didn’t know what it meant. Those guys helped us win the Big Game. (Ahééhee! Thanks, guys!)

Enter the situation when the opposing team has a runner on second. If the pitcher can see the signals from the catcher, the enemy runner on second can see the signals, so if there is a runner on second, the catcher and pitcher may use alternate signs. They talk to each other in code.

These may involve putting down a sequence of fingers, such as four-two-two-one. Now maybe only the first two mean anything. Or maybe the last two. Or the catcher pounds his glove twice or adjusts his facemask a special way, or touches his chest to call a sign or to indicate what alternative signs he'll be using. Or maybe he places his gloved hand down behind his thigh instead of on top of his thigh. Or maybe he moonwalks behind home plate toward the opposing team’s dugout. (Just kidding, my little tub of chili cheese fries!) Usually the signs aren’t that obvious. If signs are too obvious, or given in a way that the batter can see it or the second baseman can figure it out, it gives the advantage to the enemy.

Meanwhile, the manager in the dugout and the base coaches at first and third have their own little code-generating-dance going on. Have you ever seen the third base coach or the Main Honcho Father Figure Guy give baseball signs? This is one of the most intriguing parts of baseball to me. It’s like a bad imitation of Appalachian hamboning. Slap the thighs and the chest several times, tip the ball cap, wipe the chest, hit the thighs again, touch the cheeks, wave Petticoat Junction, then pound your fists together twice. That means, steal the first chance you get. Or at least the sign of touching your cheek means steal. The funny thing about those signals is most of them don’t mean anything. They are decoys. Somewhere is the midst of all that slapping, there is a small (Secret Code, I’m telling you) change in the pattern that is the real sign of what the player needs to do. I learned that the wipe across the chest can mean that the coach made a mistake and wants to erase what he just said. Think of it as the bodily representation of the undo button on our computers. I guess standing in the sun all day can confuse the best of us.

Signs to the runners once they are rounding the bases are more obvious because secrecy doesn’t matter here. If the ball is behind the runner and he can’t see what is happening in the outfield, the third base coach will give signals to keep running (often a winding motion with the arm) or to stop (two hands up with a stopping motion) based on where the ball is and where the fielders are. Okay, not all the signs rise to the Cold War stealth model. But while you think the players and coaches are just hanging out on the field enjoying the beautiful day and waiting for something to happen, there's actually a whole lot of shakin' going on.

You can try out your own signs in the comfort of your own home. The next time you are sitting with your sweetie watching a game, send some couch signals of your own. Make most of them meaningless, but stick a good one in the noise, such as a suggestive wink, a wet kiss blown through the air, a double cupping of the breasts with both hands ... well … you get the idea. Try out a little intrigue and deception of your own and see what happens. Remember the most important rule of all, baseball is supposed to be fun.

108 Stitches Coming Your Way Fast

Okay, girlfriend. I’m writing this current entry more for me than for you. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve asked The Boyfriend, “What the difference between a breaking ball and a slider?" "What’s a changeup?" "What the heck is a knuckleball and why does everybody roll their eyes when someone throws it?"

I readily admit, I usually have to wait until the announcers call it. But as you learn baseball, it’s good to know different pitches have different purposes. So for fun, let’s see if we can grasp (no pun intended!) the basics throws.

A couple things determine a pitch: how the pitcher holds the ball, the spin he puts on it when he releases, and how fast he throws it. Those elements determine the path it takes to the plate. A baseball truly is a gorgeous thing: smooth ivory leather encircled with a graceful continuous seam of 108 perky red stitches in an hourglass formation. Using this seam, the pitcher changes his grip on the ball to control the ball’s spin. That contributes to both the speed and the path of the ball. Using a strong kick as he turns his body, the pitcher can add even more speed to the throw.

Uh oh! My eyes are beginning to glaze over. The intricate physics of throwing a baseball are fascinating, but to be honest, I do not find it the most exciting part of baseball. But fear not, my little bag of caramel popcorn. All you need to know to enjoy the game is that the pitcher is not just throwing a ball across the plate, he is pitching. That means he will intentionally throw the ball a certain way because he wants to get a certain result. Pitchers can do incredible and amazing things with a baseball to make it harder to hit. (If the science behind throwing a baseball intrigues you and you want to learn more, go to Fastball, slider, change-up, curveball—an analysis )

Fast balls are the Cadillac of a pitcher’s repertoire. A great fastball pitcher can throw those cannonballs right by some of the best hitters and leave them shaking their heads in disbelief. But Major League starting pitchers can’t only throw fast balls, no matter how loaded with speed. Batters will have the pitcher figured out in a heartbeat, and he won’t stay in the Major Leagues very long. The pitcher has to mix it up to keep the batter guessing and throw something at the batter he has a hard time hitting. Batters don’t only watch the ball. They also watch the pitcher’s arm and wrist action to determine what the pitch is going to be.

With some help from two pitching guides for fans from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel and the Seattle Post Intelligencer, and some guidance from The Baseball Buddy, here’s a guide for the most common pitches.

Four Seam Fast Ball: Remember the loopy seam with the 108 stitches? In a four seam fast ball, the pitcher holds the ball with his fingers on the widest apart location of the seams with his fingers on the seams. This pitch is the fastest pitch and the easiest to control because it comes in straight. Batters love it if it comes in high and in the middle of the strike zone. That’s potential home run territory. This is your fastest pitch, usually clocking in between 90 mph and, God forbid, 100 mph.

Two Seam Fastball (also called a Sinker) is similar but the pitcher holds the ball at the narrowest apart location of the seams. This grip causes a spin that causes the ball to drop or sink in the strike zone. This pitch comes over the plate at a slower speed than the four seam fastball.

Change Up: The pitcher’s arm action is similar to a fastball, but it comes in at a slower speed so it messes with the batter’s rhythm. You might see a batter swing early on the ball and strike, or hit it weakly so he fouls or hits a wimpy little grounder. But if a batter sees it coming, he has plenty of time to slam it hard. The element of unexpectedness is important.

A breaking ball refers to pitches that do not travel in straight line. A breaking ball has some sideways or downward motion on it. Curveballs and sliders are two kinds of breaking balls. The Baseball Buddy and The Boyfriend both had to help me on this one. (See, I had to ask the questions yet another time!)

Slider: A slider comes in and takes a dramatic move on a horizontal plane, starting on one side of the plate and moving toward the other. Depending on whether the batter is a righty or a lefty, it could be moving towards or away the batter.

Curveball: A curve ball comes in and moves away from or towards the batter (again depending on whether the batter is hitting from the right or the left of the plate) but it drops as well as it moves across the plate. It tends to be slower than the slider.

Splitter: A splitter has a similar release as a fastball and it has a lot of speed, but the pitcher splits his fingers farther apart in his grip. This causes the ball to come sailing fast over the plate, and then drop at a dramatic angle at the last minute, like a ball falling off the end of a table. Think of it like that old joke of poking someone’s chest and when he looks down, you clip his nose with your index finger. Nasty, but effective.

Knuckleball: Tim Wakefield with the Red Sox and R.A. Dickey with the Mariners are the only knuckleball pitchers I’m aware of currently pitching. The pitcher holds the ball with his fingernails and tries to release the ball with all four fingers with as little spin as possible. This makes the ball “dance” on it ways to the plate so it’s unpredictable. Hitters hate knuckleball pitchers because even if you know a knuckleball is coming, you don’t know where it is going to go. Former AL Umpire Ron Luciano says about the knuckleball, “Not only can’t pitchers control it, hitters can’t hit it, catchers can’t catch it, coaches can’t coach it, and most pitchers can’t learn it. It’s the perfect pitch.”

The Baseball Buddy adds his two cents on the knuckleball, "Knuckleballers? They’ve always been rare, so they’re fun to watch. Unfortunately, the new domed stadiums are making them even rarer. The dead air inside a domed stadium makes the knuckleball, which depends on air currents for its deceptive movement, useless. Another good reason for baseball being played outdoors, the way nature intended. "

All of these pitches try to achieve the same purpose, summed up nicely in the haiku below (printed here in honor of the New York Softball Gang):

Pitcher and catcher
Head for the dugout
The batter stares at his bat
-Cor van den Heuvel in Baseball Haiku, Norton Books, 2007.

A Gang of Thieves and Assassins

I've learned a lot about the game from The Baseball Buddy, so I asked him if he had any strong opinions about pitchers. Of course, he did. Next time we’ll talk about the different kinds of pitches a pitcher uses, but in this entry, I’m going to let the Baseball Buddy share some thoughts about the skinny guy on the mound.


Pitchers are a special breed. Everyone comes to see the great hitters. Pitchers hate hitters. Check out Randy Johnson’s attitude on the mound. He behaves like an assassin— and he could easily be one. A 100 mph pitch directed at a man’s head is a serious matter. The one “beaning” death in major league baseball ties it with hockey, usually considered a far more violent sport.

Intimidation is an important part of pitching. “Chin music,” a high-inside pitch, is meant to show the batter who’s in charge. The breaking ball that doesn’t break but continues on its flight toward the batter’s head is not always an accident. If it broke every time, why would it scare the batter? Some pitchers even throw intentional “wild” pitches in order to appear more dangerous.

Of course, sometimes there is more than just the threat of violence. Pitchers purposely hit batters for two reasons: 1.) To settle a grievance. 2.) To retaliate for one of their own teammates being hit. If a batter mouths off to a pitcher or displays some other form of disrespect, he might get hit his next time at bat. When retaliating on behalf of a teammate, a pitcher generally strikes back position for position. You hit my shortstop, I hit yours. Nothing personal. If he hits the batter on the butt, this is understood for what it is and there is seldom a problem. If he hits him higher, this can be taken as an escalation and lead to further trouble.

Pitchers consider themselves at war with batters, and in war anything goes. Quite simply, pitchers sometimes cheat. Many of the most successful pitchers—Whitey Ford, Gaylord Perry, Dizzy Dean— illegally “doctored” the ball. They used hidden tools to scuff the ball, or applied foreign substances to the ball to create an erratic flight. Given current salaries for ace pitchers, you can be sure that these practices are still in use.

Violence and larceny. They have always played a role in pitching and they always will. It’s just part of the game.

The Skinny Kid on the Mound with a 91 mph Fastball

We’ve covered some basics about hitting (I know there’s a ton more, but you got enough to understand and enjoy the game for now.) Now it’s time to venture into the mysterious world of pitching.

Nothing starts in baseball until someone throws the ball. And it is often thrown by some skinny guy from Kansas. The pitcher has several roles in a baseball game. He throws the ball to the batter; he tries to keep the runner on one base from stealing another; he can be part of the batting order in the National League; and, once he throws the ball, he becomes an active part of the infield, often covering first when needed. (Whew! I think I’d rather be taking a break every once in awhile from all that thinking and working and just hang out in left field, like Manny Ramirez.)

The most important role for the pitcher is to throw the ball in such a way that 1) the batter can’t hit it in the first place, or 2) the batter hits it in a way that the fielders can get him out before he gets to first base. The pitcher also has to work with the catcher to make sure that he knows what is coming so he doesn’t throw the ball to a place where the catcher isn't.

The Main Honcho Father Figure Guy (the manager) and the pitching coach also have a role in all this. They decide who gets to pitch, how long they pitch, and when a pitcher is starting to go down in flames. Trust me, girlfriend, these people are serious. Grady Little, former Boston Red Sox manager, lost his job because he left Pedro Martinez in too long in the 2003 American League Playoff game against the New York Yankees during the playoffs and lost the game in the 11th inning. That’s how serious the honchos are about baseball.

So let’s start by talking about the different kinds of pitchers. There’s the cute ones (like Brandon Morrow), the big ones (like Randy Johnson) , the ones that wear glasses (like Edwar Ramirez) the submariners who throw sidearmed (like Scott Sauerbeck back in the day), the ones who are legendary pitchers but also assholes (like Roger Clemens), the scary ones who look like they could eat you for lunch (like Mariano Rivera and Bobby Jenks), the ones with mental tics (like Jonathan Papelbon) and one whose claim to fame is a bloody sock (like Curt Schilling.)

Nah, just kidding. You can make up your own categories for your own personal reference, but usually pitchers are classified by starting pitchers, relief pitchers, and closing pitchers. All these pitchers do the same job, but at different times during the game.

The starting pitcher, or starter is the pitcher who pitches the first pitch to the first batter of a game. Any pitcher who enters the game after the first pitch of the game is a relief pitcher. The closing pitcher or closer (television stole this name for the detective show starring Kyra Sedgwick) is a relief pitcher who is put in at the end of the game to seal the deal and get those final outs in the game. It’s usually someone who can pitch well to both right handed batters and left handed batters and who has a killer fastball. It’s a glam position with prestige, but you better be a cool dude if you are a closer. Often closers come into the game when there are runners on base, so the team is depending on him to shut down the momentum.

If all goes well, the starting pitcher will pitch about 7 innings or about 100 pitches. In some cases, the starting pitcher will pitch a full game but it’s a rare feat. Pitchers get a 3-5 days rest between pitching, so you usually see about 4 or 5 different starting pitchers for a team. The Boyfriend says that the last pitcher to only get two days rest between pitching was Cy Young himself.

If a starting pitcher is having a bad day (such as those darn 8 run innings that the Mariners have suffered from multiple times this year), he might get pulled and sent into the clubhouse to end his broadcasting day. A middle reliever might be brought in to staunch the wound of bleeding runs or to keep things at bay until the specialty relievers are brought in toward the final innings. One of the better middle relievers in his day was a pitcher named Joe Page who pitched for the New York Yankees in the late 1940s. Go figure.

Sometimes in the last few innings, especially when the team is ahead and the manager wants to keep it that way, specialty pitchers are brought in, such as a pitcher who is good against left handed swinging batters, to pitch just against one batter. Sometimes you’ll hear the word "set up pitcher" which means the pitcher that pitches right before the closer is brought in. Closers don’t usually pitch for more than an inning or two. They have to be good and deadly, but they don’t have to be marathon pitchers.

See, it’s all strategy. The right tool for the job. A good looking, dark haired pitcher with soulful eyes… sorry, got off message there. Pitchers need to be more than a pretty face, and pitchers need to throw more than a killer fastball. A starting pitcher needs a couple different kinds of pitches in his pocket in order to keep ahead of those thirsty, hungry, slammer batters who are looking for a nice fat tomato across the plate. Closers don’t need as many different kinds of pitches to be good, but they better be deadly and they better have pinpoint control.

Where do pitchers hang out while they are waiting to pitch or while warming up? These guys hang out in the bullpen which is often an enclosed place along the side of the field. They sit and wait and warmup and sometimes get in trouble.

The bullpen is a place, but it also refers collectively to all of the relief pitchers waiting to be called out to pitch. And here is where the drama comes in. Ever seen the manager make “THE CALL TO THE BULLPEN” on televised games? Main Honcho Father Figure Guy picks up the TOP SECRET PHONE in the dugout (where all the fielders and hitters and the starting pitcher are sitting) and calls over to the bullpen (where all the relievers are sitting.) The camera zooms in. We see the Manager looking very serious, and nodding his head. We can almost hear the conversation.

“Hey, Bowser! Tell the skinny guy from Kansas to start warming up. I got to get that loser on the mound outta here. And send us down a couple dozen nacho boats with extra jalapenos from the snack bar while you are at it. With extra napkins.”

What Is the Deal Between the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox?

As in all sports, baseball has its rivalries, and the granddaddy of all baseball rivalries has got to be between the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox. As the two teams play each other in New York over this Fourth of July weekend, The Girlfriend gives pause and considers what might be behind this stubborn rivalry. I posed the question to Joanie The Softball Diva and Terminal Yankees Fan and The Boyfriend, who was born and raised in Red Sox Nation, to give me their views from their respective teams.

Joanie The Softball Diva and Terminal Yankees Fan on THE RIVALRY:

The Yankees/Red Sox Rivalry is called the greatest rivalry in all sports. Well, it’s definitely true…..but in all actuality it’s a rivalry between two cities and two fan bases. Boston, perpetually with a big chip on its shoulder because it is a smaller city and no matter how hard it tries…..it will never, ever be as cool as New York.

Same thing with their fans. The Boston fans are possessed, downright maniacal when it comes to their beloved Red Sox. That’s not a bad thing. But in Boston, it’s the only thing. In New York, of course there are passionate die-hard Yankees fans, but there is also other life. Millions of New Yorkers don’t even watch baseball. They have theater, comedy clubs, art museums, rollerblading, dance clubs and many other avenues for entertainment. Boston….smaller city, smaller venues for fun, no other life than to be an obsessive Red Sox fan. “Wicked” hard life.

They say the rivalry began with the famous Curse of the Bambino. The Red Sox were very successful until they sold Babe Ruth to the Yankees and then had a drought of 86 years until they finally won a World Series in 2004. Supposedly Harry Frazee sold the Babe so he could finance a production of the play, No, No Nanette, but Wikipedia disputes that claim. Whether or not the timing of the sale financed the play, the trade apparently doomed the Red Sox to eight decades of anguished suffering for giving up the greatest player of all time. Of course with World Series victories in 2004 and 2007 the curse is over…..or so you would think.

A Red Sox fan working construction on the New Yankee Stadium, which will open in 2009, buried a Big Papi Red Sox jersey deep into a concrete slab in the bowels of the Stadium. Someone, maybe a Yankee fan, ratted him out. It garnered all kinds of publicity….a new curse on the New Stadium. Silly Red Sox fan….didn’t he get the symbolism! Being BURIED at Yankee Stadium. Well, several thousand dollars in overtime jack hammering later, the shirt was dug up, cleaned up, and in a snide turning of the cheek, the Yankees higher-ups ended up auctioning the shirt off to the tune of $75,000 and gave the money to the Jimmy Fund, which is a favorite Red Sox cancer charity. No way that good karma will be erased.

The Red Sox are playing really good ball right now and the Yankees will have to work really, really hard to even come close to catching them for the Eastern Division title. Of course there is always the Wild Card…..and there is always the delicious possibility of seeing all those Red Sox fans going back to their normal miserable state. They really have had too much success lately (Super Bowl XLII notwithstanding) and the fans really are better suited to be railing, wailing and flailing against those damn Yankees. It’s a city thing…..it’s time for things to go back to normal. New York on top.

The Boyfriend responds, defending Red Sox Nation:

My father was born in the summer of 1921, three years after the Red Sox won the World Series. He grew up during the Depression, married, raised 6 children to middle age, lost a brother who died in his 50s, a father who died in his 70s, and a mother who died in her 80s. He watched as the country experience five wars, five economic recessions, bought and sold five houses, delighted in the birth of countless grandchildren and great grandchildren and watched as the New York Yankees won the world Series 26 times and the Red Sox won none.

Does anyone really need me to explain why Boston HATES the Yankees?

Boston has always been the “Bastard Stepchild” to New York City. New York is the financial capital of the US, had the tallest building, and for a time had the largest population. New York is the EMPIRE State. Massachusetts is the BAY State. Yes, the State that has a lot of Bays.

It makes sense that Boston has a self-esteem problem, doesn’t it?

That brings me back to my Dad. He said that New Yorkers were just a bunch of “animals.” When I was very young, I believed him and when I got older, I blew it off as one of his “things”. I know that most of that feeling was a manifestation of the rivalry between the Cities, but I wonder if the Red Sox had won 26 world championships if that feeling might have been softened somewhat.

But... that’s what sports is all about, rooting for your team, right? What would a Red Sox/Yankees series be if the intensity wasn’t there? That’s what it’s all about.

My father was 83 years old when the Red Sox finally pulled it off. He was living in Bridgewater, Massachusetts, at the time. Half way through the fourth game of the series when it became obvious that the Red Sox were going to win, in spite of the fact he had stopped driving at night years before, my father put on his Red Sox jacket, his Red Sox ball cap and went to the local bar to watch the rest of the game. This college town bar was filled with students and they rolled out the red carpet for him. He became the impromptu elder statesman of the “Red Sox Nation” They gave him a seat right up front, and bought him a screwdriver. He had the time of his life.

So…look out New York. The Red Sox are back in business and your days on the top of the shit heap are numbered. Only 24 more World Championships to go!!!