July 9th & 16th, pt 2

The problem with the team we faced on July 16th is...they're the best in our league.  Undefeated.  Never played more than 4 innings in any of their games.  Failed to invoke the 10-run mercy rule on their opponents just twice in their 7 games so far. 

I didn't tell the team that.  I knew...*KNEW*...that we would lose, but I wanted everyone to remain fired up about me taking the mound again so they would be ready to take names and break hearts. 

Boy, did we hold them!

We scored one run in the first...so did they.  Tied at 1-1 after first.  Failed to score a run and we gave up 2 runs in the second.  The shortstop started getting flippant with me, countermanding me on positioning the players.  I told him to shut up by gesturing the "Zip your lips" on the field.  We scored a run to cut the deficit to 3-2.  Then...

We did the impossible.  We shut them down in the third inning.  No score.  Nil.  Nada. 

Everything fell apart after third inning.  The shortstop started yelling and cussing at third baseman when she missed an easy grounder.  He kept doing the verbal assault on her and everyone heard him.  I didn't know this until we returned to the dugout after giving up 4 runs in the fourth.  When the captain informed me of that, I promptly kicked the shortstop off the lineup and replaced him with another player.

The third baseman was too rattled to keep playing so I replaced her with another player.  We were unable to score any more run in the rest of the game, gave up 2 more runs in the fifth, and the game was stopped in the 6th inning when they scored 3 more runs to make it 12-2, invoking the 10-run mercy rule on us.

When I held the postgame meeting with every intention to address the incident, the shortstop was nowhere to be seen.  He took off before the game had ended.  How unfortunate he chose to disappear before we could talk about anything.  I saw this as yet another display of disrespect for the team...and me as his coach.

After I got home and showered the dirt & sweat off, I sent an e-mail to the shortstop.  I told him his behavior on the field was not acceptable; he needed to apologize to the team and write a personal letter of apology to the female player who played at third base. 

I do not allow infighting between players/within the team and I will not tolerate disrespect for other players.  I don't care if he is the best thing to happen to the team.  Nobody is above anyone.  You don't do anything to embarass your team, your friends, your family, and yourself.

Sadly, he did not see it that way.  He pasted my e-mail verbatim in the team's Facebook group, said "This is about as silly as it gets to me, I wouldn't expect any of this to happen, and good luck with the rest of your season", and quit the team right after he posted that.  That affirmed what I knew - he felt he was above everyone else.

Everyone else showed support for my decision to call him out in e-mail and they all felt he was rude and disrespectful.  I reminded everyone that the city has a rule against profanity and I will not put up with anyone acting in a manner detrimental to the team or to the game. 

When I wrote this post, we were facing 5 games in 3 weeks and then the season would be over, all without that talented player...and I have faith in the team to win at least two more.

July 9th & 16th, pt 1

After winning 11-7 on July 2nd, I held a postgame meeting.  I congratulated everyone on doing their job of shut-down defense.  The pitcher was shaky that night, having walked 8 batters total and he apologized for that.  I told him not to worry - he would do better next week.

"Uhm, about that..."

Uh-oh. 

He proceeded to let me know he would be on vacation for 2 weeks.  Okay.  I asked the team if anyone would be willing to pitch next week.  I was immediately nominated for that.  Uhh...  I repeated my question and they all stared back at me.

The problem was I hadn't pitched in a game for 12 months and I figured with so many available players, I would not need to stay sharp.  After all, I was doing practice with two different teams at least once a week which helped keep me fit.  I consented and then sent everyone off with a rousing victory speech.

Before I knew it, Monday the 9th was here and...I never got around to practice on my pitching.  Crap.  I knew the exact distance because I have the measuring tape...but can I do it again, hitting the target consistently after all that time?  Only way to find out.  I went to the park an hour early, measured off the distance, placed a faux home plate at the end of the tape, and took my spot on the other end. 

I positioned myself, took one step back, took a breath, and went into the motion.  I was short by two full plates.  Tried harder...*thud!*  The ball had hit the plate.  I tried harder and I cleared the plate, but a bit off to the right.  Took a breath, centered myself, focused on the area above the plate, and let it fly.  Landed perfectly.  Threw another...almost same result.  A slight hiccup in my throwing mechanism and the ball veered off.  Centered myself and I found the area once again.

15 minutes later, I felt good about my arm.  Then the game started 10 minutes later.

First inning - we scored a run and then it was my turn.  I was a bit off and walked the first batter (since this was a male batter, he automatically advanced to second base).  The next batter tried to wait on my pitches in order to draw a walk.  The shortstop (one of the fixtures) came over to tell me how to pitch.  I told him to back off, do his job, and I will do mine.  The batter then grounded out, advancing the runner to third.  I walked third batter, putting him on 2nd base.  The fourth batter flied out to outfield, scoring the runner.  The 6th batter grounded out, tying the score at 1-1.

Second inning - we didn't score a run.  First batter grounded out, 2nd batter singled, 3rd batter singled, 4th got on by shortstop's error, 5th lined out, 6th lined right at me which almost took me out, scoring 2 runners, before shutting down the next two batters through flyouts.  I became very vocal on the field and that fired the team up.  I didn't walk a batter and gave up just three hits.  Down 3-1.

Third inning - we scored a run to cut the deficit to 3-2.  Got first batter to ground out.  Second batter singled, third batter grounded out, and fourth batter struck out.  Score remained unchanged, but I underwent a transformation on the mound.  I found my zone and nothing was getting to me at all.

Fourth inning - no score from us.  Struck out first batter, gave up a single to next batter, third flied out to outfield (outfielder thought it was three outs and never bothered to throw the ball back so the runner advanced on no throw), fourth singled to score the runner home, fifth singled, and sixth batter lined out at second baseman.  Score 4-2.  Everyone could hear me and I told the shortstop off again for not being in his position.

We scored 2 more runs over the next 2 innings...but gave up one more run in the final inning to seal our fate.  The funny thing was that shortstop singled before I told him to back off and do his job.  He floundered, going 0-4 and committing two errors.  I felt good about myself despite having pitched 7 innings, giving up 5 runs and walking two batters.  I wanted more out of myself and others...and I knew the team wanted me back on the mound next week. 

The problem with next week was...  Come back next week to find out!  ;)

Then the softball season came around...part 2

In last week's post, I talked about how I never set out to be a coach this year. 

Earlier, both my daughters expressed interest in playing softball.  That surprised me because neither girl had played before.  I signed both up and thought nothing more about the game other than putting in some time with them on fielding and catching. 

By stroke of luck, both girls had to report to the same field for first day of practice.  My younger daughter had her practice first and I saw her team had a coach and two assistant coaches.  They broke the team up into sections and worked on drills separately, rotating sections out to other drills.  Practice ended an hour later.

Right after that, my other daughter had her practice with her new team and coach.  Other than noting her coach looked pregnant, I settled in to watch and wait for my wife to get here from work and pick up our younger daughter.  It dawned on me that the coach was handling this practice by herself and it was taking FOREVER to go through a drill before moving onto another.

After an hour, the coach had just finished the pitching drill and that was the first drill.  I knew right away help was much needed and that's when my wife showed up.  I told her about that and she said, "Why don't you offer her your help?  You've coached before."  I nodded at that and said, "Come with me then."  We walked over to the coach and with my wife interpreting for me, I volunteered to be an assistant coach.  3 others jumped in to volunteer as well. 

What I remembered the most about that moment was all the girls coming over to look at me when I offered help.  I got strange looks, curious looks, bewildered looks, and so forth.  However, my daughter was super-thrilled to have me on board as an assistant coach.  My wife overheard her tell her teammates "My dad is a very good coach and you will learn a lot from him." 

The coach texted me two days later to make sure I would be there for practice.  I showed up and she didn't know what to do with me.  I'm used to that and I had a feeling that would happen, which was why I had an interpreter.  I discussed with the coach on how to communicate with me in an effective manner and she was very attentive.  I promised her I would have an interpreter at every practice because I knew not everyone would understand me.

During practice that day, I noticed some girls didn't know how to throw properly, catch properly, and/or field properly.  What I meant by that is how you use your feet while throwing, having the glove in proper alignment when catching, and setting yourself in front of the ball to field it cleanly.

The coach was amazed by how I picked up on the minutae and I told her, "It's easy to overlook things when it's second nature to you and to me.  Our job to to make sure they all know how to do things correctly to minimize injuries."  That impressed her even more and she took to me right away.  We became comfortable with each other and she was surprised by my approach to the game.

She liked how calm and attentive I was with everyone and she became my fan when I made a player run the length of the outfield for trying to catch a ball in a dangerous way.  That is, catching a ball palm up with the back of the hand horizontal to the ground while the ball is coming in high instead of having the glove pointing up to the sky.  That's a sure-fire way to have a ball hit you in the face.  She had never been able to break the girls of that dangerous habit last year and my way did the job much faster.  I even did it to my own daughter, making her run the length several times.

When a parent tried to hassle her over something trivial, I reminded her that she is "HBIC" and she should utilize her assistant coach to make sure everything would be done correctly.  Her eyes widened at that and and she said, "If that's what I think you said, you're right.  I want you to handle the girls while I go and make it clear who is in charge here."

To clarify what HBIC is, it's "Head Boss (or a bad word) In Charge".  The letter B is beautifully interchangeable for either sex.  ;) 

Not long after the season started, she texted me to let me know she wasn't handling her pregnancy well and had to be on bed rest.  She felt that since I was the only assistant coach to show up at every practice AND game along with showing patience and great attention to details, I would be ideal to replace her.  I was honored by her faith in me to lead the team.

When a parent found out that I was promoted to head coach, she volunteered herself and her husband for assistant coaches.  That instantly allayed any fear any parent might've had with the team having a deaf coach.  We got along easily without the aid of interpreters and the husband turned out to be a fabulous coach - I would say something small like "One out" and he would follow all the way through by saying to the runners "One out, that means what? That's right, stay and wait unless there's a ground ball then you run!"

I made sure to let every player play in whatever position they wanted to and I followed the rule of letting each player play on the field for at least 2 innings per game (not every coach followed that).  I must confess that I did have an ulterior motive for letting everyone play in all positions - this allowed me to develop depth in each position.  This turned out to be the right thing because two players got suspended for the year due to off-field infractions and two players dropped out.

We started the season with 13 players and finished with 9 (one never showed up in the final game) with the record of 2-10 (there were only 4 teams in the league, 4 game series each).  We lost 2 games by 2 runs or less, which is awesome considering the fact the majority of the players were playing for the first time.  The girls loved playing and loved playing for me. 

I spoke with the former coach; she wants to come back.  I told the husband and wife that they made great assistant coaches.  I even told the husband that if he decides not to move this year and the league needs another coach, I'd gladly coach against him because I thought he would make a very good coach too.  He was touched by that and liked the idea of coaching against me as well.

I am looking forward to next year.  ;)

Then the softball season came around...part 1

The funny thing about this softball season was...I wasn't looking to be a coach and I was made to be a coach, twice. 

I was looking to play again this year...this time as a player without the "/coach" added on.  To clarify this...last year, I was a player/coach of an adult coed slo-pitch team (with a mix of deaf and hearing players) and we managed to win just one game (when a team full of barflies didn't bother to show up).  Last year's team was, at best, a mediocre collection of players.  We had lost two games by two runs or less and 3 games by 5 runs or less to finish at 1-13.

When a very talented player joined the team in the final game of the season last year as second baseman and played brilliantly in tandem with me at first base, I realized with her returning next year we would be one or two good players away from becoming a respectable team.  I am a great catcher, I am a very good pitcher that doesn't crack under pressure, and I am a decent infielder.  I'm just like Crash Davis..."all my limbs put together are worth 7 cents a pound", but boy do I have the brains for the game.

Don't get me wrong...I am not all about winning.  Yes, winning feels good (always!) but I would never try to win at anyone's expense.  I *am* competitive by nature - I always give everything I have on the field and I always leave it all on the field.  Most players, who came consistently to the games, always played their hearts out and I would take them over any talented player who doesn't care about the team.

The point is, it's just a game but I wanted to give the players a chance...more accurately...a fighting chance to win every time.  I always put everyone in the game, even if it means losing the lead...even if it meant I wouldn't get to play.  Growing up, I was always picked last or excluded from the games and I *hated* the feeling that came standard with being excluded or subbed for a better player.  I vowed to never do that to anyone if I ever became a coach and I still haven't done that to anyone.

Here's what happened this year - I was supposed to play in a league 30 miles south with one of the last year's players becoming the coach but he took too long to register a team.  You guessed it correctly - I was able to register a team in my league and again I was the coach.  However, the majority of players from last year brought more players and the skill level was much better this time around. 
 
I moved a player from her usual shortstop position to second baseman because she had trouble making the throw from there and I knew she would adjust to the "flipped" side.  She adapted so well that she gained confidence in her game and she even went after players who would "lollygag the ball around".  I promptly made her the captain of the team.  Certain new players who instantly upgraded the skill level were put in center outfield, shortstop, and first base, becaming permanent fixtures along with the captain.
 
Me?  I ended up not playing at all in order to accomodate the sudden influx of available players.  I knew I missed being on the field, but I didn't realize exactly how much I missed it until I had to pitch on July 9th and again on July 16th.  More on that in a future post, I promise.  :)

And the "twice" part I alluded to at the beginning?  Stay tuned. 

Bonus points to anyone who caught "Bull Durham" references - I *love* that movie and it is the greatest baseball movie.  Ever.  No, not even "A League of Their Own" or "Field of Dreams".  I loved the story about female players and "There's no crying in baseball!!!" and I played catch with my dad so I didn't have to "build it and he will come" which means "Field of Dreams didn't hit me as hard as it did with others.  So there!  LOL

Whew, now that the Silent Weekend retreat is over...part 2

Editor's note: please see the post below for part one if you haven't read that yet.

I woke up Saturday morning and it was still dark out. I went to check on my campers and I was tickled, really tickled to see my thieves had taken their mattresses down and placed them in front of the fireplace (the mandated spot for each cabin's mascot) and they slept on the floor to make sure nobody could get to our mascot. I looked over to the fireplace and was shocked to see our mascot wasn't alone.

My boys. My cabin. I felt that familiar surge of pride again.

I got my pager out and I took a picture. The older thief woke up from the flash and when he saw who I was, he grinned at me. I signed, "how many mascots?" and he signed "Four". I signed "Four? Proud you!" The original picture was way off-center so I took another picture. The older thief grinned and held his thumb up as I re-snapped the picture. The younger thief had accidentally covered up the other mascots while he slept - you can barely make out the blue dog peeking out from under. Take a look. LOL

You can see the hen now, just behind our mascot.

At the mandatory 7:45 am staff meeting, I found out that my campers had won the Dutch Auction game. That boosted my sense of pride for my campers, which is no easy feat.

After the meeting, I joined my campers at their table for breakfast and they told me other campers were grumbling about the two thieves being too good at the mascot game. Then the staffer in charge came over and told my campers to give back the mascots. They protested that they had followed the rules cleanly this time. They looked at me and I nodded my head slightly; they promptly turned the mascots over to her.

After she left with the 4 mascots, the younger one signed to me, "Why punish us? We follow rules!" I leaned in and signed, "(it's) Okay, you punish because you too good". They laughed at that and calmed down. I was curious about how they managed to steal 4 mascots after the cabins had learned how sneaky they were and were undoubtedly on high alert.

Me: "How four?"
Older thief: "We went their cabins, take"
Me: "Time?"
Younger thief: "3 morning"
Me: "Wow"

Then it was time for the outdoor games. Friday night had dipped into the 30's and the sun was warming the field up to the high 40's when we streamed out of the mess hall. We headed out to play a regular Silent Weekend game and a favorite of mine, "Clusters". It's a great game that anyone can play.

Here's how it works - someone holds up a number and the participants must "cluster" themselves into a group of people matching the sign. If the sign comes up as "6", each group must have 6 people in it. The "refs" rush in and count the members of each group to ensure accuracy. The others who couldn't find enough members are out of the game. Then everyone breaks apart and mingles...waiting for the next number. The last two remaining in the game are the winners. The last two left in the game that morning were each given a clue to share with their cabins.

After playing a relay game (each camper had to "read" what was fingerspelled and either fingerspell or sign it) and "Guess Who?" (each camper had to guess the identity on a card taped to their backs, using "yes/no" questions), we went back for lunch. My co-counselor informed me that he managed to get another clue. My mental computation told me that any other cabin had, at best, 2 clues while ours had 4.

After lunch, I left to lead a workshop for the beginners. I decided on the "7 W's of ASL" (who, what, where, when, why, which, & how) as the building block approach, supplemented with time reference (yesterday, tomorrow, day, week, month, etc.), emotions, and gender line for sex-specific signs (mother, father, boy, girl, etc.).

When I wrapped the workshop up 1.5 hours later, the participants were able to follow everything so much better and they felt good about that. Some came over and praised me for that. Even the staffers who attended were impressed by my style of teaching. I had gotten everyone involved, even the staffers and counselors. This was officially my first time leading a workshop. Two years ago, a presentator got sick and I took over at the last minute.

Then it was craft time, where the campers were allowed to unwind and get creative. That always recharges the batteries. Then the announcement came - each cabin must use the line "Guess What?" and use the gloves as prop in their skit. What skit, you may be thinking? Every year, each cabin comes up with a skit involving signing, deaf culture, and any relevant aspect of the deaf world and we all compete for the best skit. It's one of the best things about the whole weekend...and the most stressful!

I herded my campers back to our cabin to brainstorm for our skit. I came up with a great ending line...the problem was we had nothing to build around that. We had 1.5 hours to brainstorm before dinner and then 2 hours before we had to go to the rec hall and perform our skit.

Nothing. NOTHING. We went back and forth. We came up with three different ideas, but none of them were interchangeable with each other. Nobody could agree on a single idea. Suddenly, it was time for dinner. I signed to the campers, "Eat fast, come here. 5 minutes eat. Go". After I scarfed down my meal, I biked back and laid myself down to rest my brain.

The co-counselor woke me up few minutes later and after deliberating for 15 minutes, we eliminated one idea. We ultimately decided that the idea of murder was not doable and focused on the idea of a bad dream. This happened 50 minutes BEFORE everyone had to go to the rec hall. Argh!

The younger thief had a talent for performance and was the logical choice as "the kid" in the skit...but...he had never seen the movie we based the skit on and had no idea exactly how the line worked or the impact of the line. He was only 7 at the time the movie came out. After struggling through the explanation for 4th time, someone suggested that I be the kid. Before I could protest, every camper jumped in and unanimously agreed on that.

Sighs. Okay. We rehearsed everything at the speed of light. Well, we had to - only 30 minutes to get it all down before going. I reminded everyone to not worry about flubbing their lines...the audience does not know what we are doing and would not know if someone messed up. We rushed off for the rec hall 5 minutes until 8 pm.

The skit took place on Planet Eyeth (as opposed to EARth, where most of us are deaf and we sign everywhere). At the beginning of the skit, I was ordered to bed by my "parents". As I dreamt, I "woke up" in the dream and I tried to sign to my uncle and aunt but they were wearing gloves so they no longer spoke sign language and were "speaking" like Earthlings.

I panicked and ran to my sisters doing pedicures on each other. They had gloves on and "spoke" to me, not understanding what I was signing to them. I freaked out when I saw my brother speaking on a phone with gloves on. Why is he using a phone if he is deaf?!? I saw my parents and tried to sign frantically to them. They did not understand and thought I was flailing my hands around. I saw they had gloves on. (I ran to my bed to wake up from the dream) As I woke up, I cried for my parents and they rushed in.

Mother signed "What's wrong?" I pulled my blanket up and around my head and I signed "I see...hearing people". (That's when the audience roared with laughter as they realized we had done the deaf version of "The Sixth Sense"). Mother signed "Guess what" and I signed "What?" and she signed "Hearing people not real." I sighed with relief and signed "Whew, bad dream".

Judges traditionally razz each skit. I loved what they said about our skit.

After every skit was performed, we had the option of going to a bonfire or the mess hall or cabins because we all were done for Saturday. I hung out at the bonfire for a while before checking in on the mess hall prior to going to bed.

Around 5 am Sunday, I was awakened with a sudden cramp in my right calf. I got out to stand on my foot to unkink it...and saw something dart across my room. I crept out or my room, looked around, and caught someone trying to steal our mascot. Whew! I checked around the cabin and boom, caught another one lurking in the shadows. He was obviously the back-up. Perfect timing to have a cramp. LOL

At the mandatory staff meeting, the counselors all agreed that my skit was the best and funniest. After discussing the candidates for awards, we joined the campers for breakfast while the judges deliberated everything.

We all went to the rec hall for the last time. The staffers let the campers know that they were once again allowed to use their voices. Then the awards were given out. My cabin won The Devil (the older thief), The Clown (the younger thief), The Biggest Sweetheart, and The Balancing Act.

Sadly, the judges did not think our skit was the best and I was told there was a collective gasp when another cabin won instead. At least we won their minds and hearts. ;)

Off to do something that I love to do every year...

I volunteer every year as a counselor for a retreat. Normally that's nothing special about that, but the retreat is very unusual. It is for people who want to improve their sign language skills and my job is to help enhance that while at the same time, bring deaf culture to them.

Nobody at the retreat is ALLOWED to use their voicebox to communicate. The penalty is wearing a massive and colorfully loud bib with a dangling pacifier and a helium-filled balloon (so we can spot who has that when the next person gets busted for speaking).

I have previously mentioned that I am deaf and fluent in sign language. That is the unique set of skills I will be bringing to the retreat. There will be 8 lead counselors (I'm one of them), about 10 co-lead counselors, and about 8 hearing staffers who are sign language interpreters. We will be handling about 70 participants, maybe more. The participants will range from beginners to advanced.

The retreat will start Friday night with a gathering in the mess hall for dinner and end in the gym Sunday noon. I have to be there by 2 pm to help set everything up and help take everything down after the participants leave. 40+ hours of work nonstop, but pure fun and rewarding. I get to bond with the lucky ones who sign up for my cabin. Nobody is allowed to know which cabin will have who as their lead and co-lead counselors.

The biggest challenge every year is the skit. We always say to the participants "This is for fun", but we all secretly hope to be the one who wins this year. My cabin (out of 8 total) has won twice in 8 years (2006 and 2009). Not bad at all. Let's see if my cabin can win two years in a row. ;)

Maybe I will tell you the storyline of both skits that won. In separate posts, of course. LOL I will try to remember to post about this year's retreat Sunday and publish on Monday. If I miss that, just come back Tuesday.