Tag Archives: baseball

Seventeen Inches

First of all, I apologize to my followers for being UA for the past few weeks. My Young Marines Unit (Fox Valley) is working this old man over time. It’s amazing how busy and involved twenty-four kids ages 8 to HS graduation can keep you. We have had some problems in the unit, no not with the kids but with some mean-spirited parents who have done a horrible job at raising their own children and expected me to apply some of their rules to the unit. Well, guess where they are now? GONE! Anyway, I feel assured many of you have seen what I am here to post before. But if you have, read it again, and again, and again. Then send it anonymously to those parents you know who keep widening the plate. There are lots of them out there, just open your eyes and look around, you’ll find them everywhere, even entrenched in our governments (local, state, and federal especially is packed with them. I’m certain they have machines whose sole job is plate widening). Anyway, enjoy it again!

Seventeen Inches

 

 

 

 

 

In Nashville, Tennessee, during the first week of January, 1996, more than 4,000 baseball coaches descended upon the Opryland Hotel for the 52nd annual ABCA convention. Nineteen times since, many of the same professional, college, high school, youth, and a slew of international coaches from passionate and developing baseball nations have gathered at various convention hotels across the country for two-and-half days of clinic presentations and industry exhibits. Sure, many members of the American Baseball Coaches Association have come and gone in those years; the leadership has been passed, nepotistically, from Dave Keilitz to his son, Craig; and the association — and baseball, in general — has lost some of its greatest coaches, including Rod Dedeaux, Gordie Gillespie, and Chuck “Bobo” Brayton.

I have attended all but three conventions in those nineteen years, and I have enjoyed and benefited from each of them. But ’96 was special — not just because it was held in the home of country music, a town I’d always wanted to visit. And not because I was attending my very first convention. Nashville in ’96 was special because it was there and then that I learned that baseball — the thing that had brought 4,000 of us together — was merely a metaphor for my own life and those of the players I hoped to impact.

While I waited in line to register with the hotel staff, I heard other more veteran coaches rumbling about the lineup of speakers scheduled to present during the weekend. One name, in particular, kept resurfacing, always with the same sentiment — “John Scolinos is here? Oh man, worth every penny of my airfare.”

Who the hell is John Scolinos?  No matter, I was just happy to be there.

Having sensed the size of the group during check-in, I woke early the next morning in order to ensure myself a good seat near the stage — first chair on the right side of the center isle, third row back — where I sat, alone, for an hour until the audio-visual techs arrived to fine-tune their equipment. The proverbial bee bee in a boxcar, I was surrounded by empty chairs in a room as large as a football field. Eventually, I was joined by other, slightly less eager, coaches until the room was filled to capacity. By the time Augie Garrido was introduced to deliver the traditional first presentation from the previous season’s College World Series winner, there wasn’t an empty chair in the room.

ABCA conventions have a certain party-like quality to them. They provide a wonderful opportunity to re-connect with old friends from a fraternal game that often spreads its coaches all over the country. As such, it is common for coaches to bail out of afternoon clinic sessions in favor of old friends and the bar. As a result, I discovered, the crowd is comparatively sparse after lunch, and I had no trouble getting my seat back, even after grabbing a plastic-wrapped sandwich off the shelf at the Opryland gift shop.

I woke early the next morning and once again found myself alone in the massive convention hall, reviewing my notes from the day before: pitching mechanics, hitting philosophy, team practice drills. All technical and typical — important stuff for a young coach, and I was in Heaven. At the end of the morning session, certain that I had accurately scouted the group dynamic and that my seat would again be waiting for me after lunch, I allowed myself a few extra minutes to sit down and enjoy an overpriced sandwich in one of the hotel restaurants. But when I returned to the convention hall thirty minutes before the lunch break ended, not only was my seat not available, barely any seats were available! I managed to find one between two high school coaches, both proudly adorned in their respective team caps and jackets. Disappointed in myself for losing my seat up front, I wondered what had pried all these coaches from their barstools. I found the clinic schedule in my bag: “1 PM John Scolinos, Cal Poly Pomona.” It was the man whose name I had heard buzzing around the lobby two days earlier. Could he be the reason that all 4,000 coaches had returned, early, to the convention hall? Wow, I thought, this guy must really be good.

I had no idea.

In 1996, Coach Scolinos was 78 years old and five years retired from a college coaching career that began in 1948. He shuffled to the stage to an impressive standing ovation, wearing dark polyester pants, a light blue shirt, and a string around his neck from which home plate hung — a full-sized, stark-white home plate.

Seriously, I wondered, who in the hell is this guy?

After speaking for twenty-five minutes, not once mentioning the prop hanging around his neck, Coach Scolinos appeared to notice the snickering among some of the coaches. Even those who knew Coach Scolinos had to wonder exactly where he was going with this, or if he had simply forgotten about home plate since he’d gotten on stage.

Then, finally …

“You’re probably all wondering why I’m wearing home plate around my neck. Or maybe you think I escaped from Camarillo State Hospital,” he said, his voice growing irascible. I laughed along with the others, acknowledging the possibility. “No,” he continued, “I may be old, but I’m not crazy. The reason I stand before you today is to share with you baseball people what I’ve learned in my life, what I’ve learned about home plate in my 78 years.”

Several hands went up when Scolinos asked how many Little League coaches were in the room. “Do you know how wide home plate is in Little League?” After a pause, someone offered, “Seventeen inches,” more question than answer.

“That’s right,” he said. “How about in Babe Ruth? Any Babe Ruth coaches in the house?”

Another long pause.

“Seventeen inches?”came a guess from another reluctant coach.

“That’s right,” said Scolinos. “Now, how many high school coaches do we have in the room?” Hundreds of hands shot up, as the pattern began to appear. “How wide is home plate in high school baseball?”

“Seventeen inches,” they said, sounding more confident.

“You’re right!” Scolinos barked. “And you college coaches, how wide is home plate in college?”

“Seventeen inches!” we said, in unison.

“Any Minor League coaches here? How wide is home plate in pro ball?”

“Seventeen inches!”

“RIGHT! And in the Major Leagues, how wide home plate is in the Major Leagues?”

“Seventeen inches!”

“SEV-EN-TEEN INCHES!” he confirmed, his voice bellowing off the walls. “And what do they do with a a Big League pitcher who can’t throw the ball over seventeen inches?” Pause. “They send him to Pocatello!” he hollered, drawing raucous laughter.

“What they don’t do is this: they don’t say, ‘Ah, that’s okay, Jimmy. You can’t hit a seventeen-inch target? We’ll make it eighteen inches, or nineteen inches. We’ll make it twenty inches so you have a better chance of hitting it. If you can’t hit that, let us know so we can make it wider still, say twenty-five inches.’”

Pause.

“Coaches …”

Pause.

” … what do we do when our best player shows up late to practice? When our team rules forbid facial hair and a guy shows up unshaven? What if he gets caught drinking? Do we hold him accountable? Or do we change the rules to fit him, do we widen home plate?

The chuckles gradually faded as four thousand coaches grew quiet, the fog lifting as the old coach’s message began to unfold. He turned the plate toward himself and, using a Sharpie, began to draw something. When he turned it toward the crowd, point up, a house was revealed, complete with a freshly drawn door and two windows. “This is the problem in our homes today. With our marriages, with the way we parent our kids. With our discipline. We don’t teach accountability to our kids, and there is no consequence for failing to meet standards. We widen the plate!

Pause. Then, to the point at the top of the house he added a small American flag.

“This is the problem in our schools today. The quality of our education is going downhill fast and teachers have been stripped of the tools they need to be successful, and to educate and discipline our young people. We are allowing others to widen home plate! Where is that getting us?”

Silence. He replaced the flag with a Cross.

“And this is the problem in the Church, where powerful people in positions of authority have taken advantage of young children, only to have such an atrocity swept under the rug for years. Our church leaders are widening home plate!”

I was amazed. At a baseball convention where I expected to learn something about curve balls and bunting and how to run better practices, I had learned something far more valuable. From an old man with home plate strung around his neck, I had learned something about life, about myself, about my own weaknesses and about my responsibilities as a leader. I had to hold myself and others accountable to that which I knew to be right, lest our families, our faith, and our society continue down an undesirable path.

“If I am lucky,” Coach Scolinos concluded, “you will remember one thing from this old coach today. It is this: if we fail to hold ourselves to a higher standard, a standard of what we know to be right; if we fail to hold our spouses and our children to the same standards, if we are unwilling or unable to provide a consequence when they do not meet the standard; and if our schools and churches and our government fail to hold themselves accountable to those they serve, there is but one thing to look forward to …”

With that, he held home plate in front of his chest, turned it around, and revealed its dark black backside.

“… dark days ahead.”

Coach Scolinos died in 2009 at the age of 91, but not before touching the lives of hundreds of players and coaches, including mine. Meeting him at my first ABCA convention kept me returning year after year, looking for similar wisdom and inspiration from other coaches. He is the best clinic speaker the ABCA has ever known because he was so much more than a baseball coach.

His message was clear: “Coaches, keep your players — no matter how good they are — your own children, and most of all, keep yourself at seventeen inches.”

He was, indeed, worth the airfare.

Written by Chris Sperry

Chris Sperry is a baseball consultant who develops players and amateur coaches, assists professional scouts, and counsels families of prospective college-bound student-athletes. He holds a Bachelor’s of Business Administration from the University of Portland, the same institution at which he served as head baseball coach for 18 years. His key interests are in player and personal development as they pertain to a life in and beyond sports.

Originally posted 2017-12-04 10:24:00.

MLB at its Greatest

LOL, I am not surprised by this at all. What else would one expect from the a third world shithole. Personally, I have never been a big MLB sports fan. Oh, I used to watch it periodically when I had nothing better to do with my time. Then it got so darn boring that I’d rather sit outside and watch the grass grow. That does not mean that I didn’t recognize it as “America’s Game.  What else could be more American than Father and son going to the stadium for hotdogs, cokes, and beer. Well, have fun now fathers, for you may have to explain some things to that young son. Good luck.

You can’t spell blasphemy without LA                     By: Greg Maresca

 The Los Angeles Dodgers are making plenty of news, none of which is for their play on the baseball diamond. Rather, the Dodgers have sold their souls to the whims of the woke. Headlines resulted after the Dodgers announced they would be honoring the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence at their annual Gay Pride Night on June 16th.

The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence are anything but a group of pious Catholic nuns, rather they are a militant collection of drag queens who profanely mock God, nuns, and women. They go by names such as Sisters: Edith Myflesh, Anal Receptive, and Porn Again. Their blasphemy of Christianity doesn’t end there as they proudly host a “Hunky Jesus” event and endow a pro-abortion, “Free Choice Mary” award. “Go forth and sin some more!” is their motto.

 How is parading around in costume insulting Catholics a symbol of pride?

For a billion-dollar professional baseball organization, this is certainly a bizarre way to conduct business. The sports’ world, drowning in virtue signaling, has sold out to the woke minority without firing a shot.

When called out on these drag queens, the Dodgers lived up to their longtime moniker and quickly dodged right and disinvited the dragsters. Unable to resist the leftist LGTBQ+ blowback, they dodged again, this time going hard left by not only reinviting the Catholic mocking drag queens and offering “our sincerest apologies,” but will award the dragsters “the Dodgers’ Community Hero Award for service to the LGBTQIA2S Community.”

Why stop there? The Dodgers should change their name to the Los Angeles Drag Queens that would complement their prominent Bud Light sign in the outfield grandstands at Dodger Stadium.

 Why limit such profane mockery to only Christians?

Why not expand their repertoire to include The Mullahs of Mecca, who can do a drag rendition of the Islamic prophet Muhammad? While talking promotions how about black-face minstrel day … well, you get the idea. The left’s overwrought double standards never ceases to amaze.

Once upon a time in America, MLB teams had events like bat day, picture day, and seat cushion day to entice the fringe fans out to the park. In 2023, it’s perversion. Apparently, producing, promoting, and playing baseball is simply not enough. Is their product on the field that skewed that they must supplement it with such derogatory fashion as honoring drag queens that mock Catholics?

How do you explain this garbage to a 10-year-old who just wants to enjoy a game at the stadium?

 It is no secret that the Dodgers have been hosting Gay Pride Night for the last decade. Throughout that tenure, the only thing emanating from Los Angeles Archbishop José Gomez was silence, until now. The Archdiocese called on “all Catholics and people of goodwill to stand against bigotry and hate in any form and to stand for respect for one another and for the religious beliefs of our communities of faith.”

Curiously, no mention of the Dodgers, who underscored how anti-Catholic bigotry remains the oldest and most acceptable of American prejudice.

Los Angeles translated from the Spanish “the city of angels” and not Hell’s version, is home to one million Catholics, many of whom are traditionally minded baseball fans who are Hispanic.

What about the Catholic ballplayers? Perhaps they don’t know that Dodger Hall-of-Fame pitcher Sandy Kofax, a practicing Jew, declined to start the opening game of the 1965 World Series because it fell on Yom Kippur.

The Dodgers believe Christians can be bought off with a “Christian night” in July that will somehow make amends that is not only offensive but distasteful. People need to stop ignoring this insanity and step up to the plate – no exceptions.

No person of faith should support any business or organization aligned with such perversion that ridicules our Judeo-Christian heritage. Righteous anger should turn this publicity charade into the Dodgers’ version of Bud Light’s Dylan Mulvaney’s transgender moment. Anheuser-Busch, Bud Light’s parent company, has suffered a continuous drop in sales ever since. So has Target. Americans need to continue to respond by closing their wallets and continue what economists say is the most successful conservative boycotts ever.

Follow the money is the only game corporate America truly comprehends.

Oh, let’s not forget about the other corporations who seemed to be falling on their swords one after the other like Target, Kohl’s, and of course the greatest of all, Bud Light. BTW, have you seen the latest commercial developed by some entrepreneur for BUD?

WARNING: this commercial is rather explicit, so if you have tender ears, just skip it.

 

 

 

 

America’s Sport

Morin Guys, My good friend and Marine brother, Greg Maresca, who many of you will recognize as a frequent contributor to my blog has written a great piece on the current state of America’s Sport,  what else . . . . . .  but baseball. The article was accepted by “The American Spectator,” a leading conservative journal. He had been trying to get one accepted by them and has finally broken through the ceiling. He’s asking for folks to go to the website and read his article. If he gets enough viewers, he could become a regular contributor. Help a fellow Marine and go read the article. The link below will take you there. It is a paid subscription site, but they do allow some free access provided you haven’t been to the site recently. I really think you’ll like his article, especially for you MLB nuts, which I am not, but it was interesting to learn what has happened to “America’s Sport” over the years.

 

Please pass the word!

 

Baseball’s Pitch Clock Era

You’re Out!

What a shame that one of America’s favorite past times is going by the way of the NFL. Millionaires haggling over salaries while playing a game while its fans pay the bill. Not me! I don’t watch either.

MLB’s Alternate Universe

By: G. Maresca

As the Russians deployed tens of thousands of troops for an invasion of Ukraine, Major League Baseball’s (MLB) owners and the players’ union agreed to a new collective bargaining agreement.

MLB’s latest contract ended a lockout that lasted more than three months and barely registered a blip on the news’ radar. Their lockout impacted not just the spring training stadiums, but the local bars, restaurants, and hotels throughout Arizona and Florida. According to Seidman Research, these venues lost nearly half of their revenue when spring training was cut short in 2020.

Once upon a time in America, the national pastime was baseball. The once coast-to-coast sporting diversion is long past its time and prime. Baseball is the Pony Express in the era of the iPhone.

A work stoppage should be the last thing any professional league facing declining numbers needs. Billionaires argue with millionaires who disagree on how to divvy up a dumpster full of cash with the remaining fans paying the freight. Players and owners are heading down the Niagara River fighting over who gets to steer. Such unhinged business practices do not bode well for future growth.

When the MLB minimum salary is well over half a million, it is difficult to convince anyone with a pulse that the players are undergoing financial hardships, while the league’s anti-trust exemption remains. Making it to the “show” as players refer to the majors means the last guy on the bench can afford a wine cellar in their self-driving Bentley, while your average fan is fighting growing inflation that will price many out.

The issue is always the almighty dollar and if MLB’s goal is to drive their fans out, they are clearing the bases. Most could care less about salary caps, player minimums, arbitration, and baseball’s luxury tax structure, which parallels the federal tax code. The more they muddle with it, the more incomprehensible it becomes that has even seasoned tax attorneys bamboozled.

As Jason Gay in the Wall Street Journal put it recently, “the nation’s most self-sabotaging sport is once more setting its own shoelaces aflame” and they have been at it for the last half century.

The league’s television ratings and attendance are proof the game remains in a serious funk. MLB is its own worst enemy and cannot afford to keep their fans away. Commissioner Rob Manfred makes his NFL counterpart Roger Goodell seem like a once in a lifetime lottery pick. MLB attendance last year was down to a 37-year low. The final game of the 2020 World Series had the lowest television ratings ever, while last year’s All-Star game was the second lowest. The league saw 45.3 million fans attend regular season games in 2021, a drop of 33.9% from 2019 – the lowest figure in 35-years.

There remains no joy in Mudville as COVID’s ominous clouds still cast a long shadow as unvaccinated players will be barred from Canada to play the Toronto Blue Jays. MLB’s slow suicide picked up steam when the league stenciled BLM on mounds and outfields, while moving their All-Star Game from Atlanta to Denver to appease Leftists – an insufferable and impossible task.

For many, MLB could terminate the season and it would have the same impact if the American Ceramic Society cancelled their annual convention. Even a game as superbly conceived as baseball can be so mismanaged that its fan base is doing a MacArthur and fading away. Those who still find the game worth the time and the expense, MLB’s opening day was Thursday, April 7, one week later than initially scheduled with its 162-regular season games in place.

Greed and envy are just two more nails in MLB’s coffin. In the free marketplace, businesses are at liberty to choose and live with the consequences.

Baseball will survive as it is great entertainment at many levels from the minors to college, high school, and youth leagues, where games don’t last three and a half hours and a hot dog and a beer won’t cost you a small fortune.

MLB’s hubris cares little about their fans just like Hollywood. Fans, however, can be heard by using their pastime money to support the millions of displaced Ukrainians – a grand slam in the humanity game.

 

All-Star Strikeout

Greg hits another Home Run!

By: G. Maresca

As Major League Baseball (MLB) opened its season to sunny skies with every team playing on the same day since 1937, the game’s executives seem intent on beheading the golden goose with the woke ax of the Cancel Culture.

Given the issues with two recent Georgian elections, the state’s legislature passed a bill that would strengthen the integrity and fairness of their voting laws.  The MLB suits and their Democrat allies including President Biden disagreed labeling the legislation “an atrocity” and “Jim Crow.”  As a result, MLB’s midseason summer classic – its annual All-Star game and amateur draft that were to take place in Atlanta – will be relocated to Colorado that has similar voting laws.

The president’s distortion of the Georgia law is intentionally divisive since he promised to unite the nation at his inauguration.  Even the left leaning Washington Post awarded Biden four Pinocchio’s.

MLB’s certitude is business as usual.  During last year’s abbreviated season, MLB stenciled a Marxist organization’s initials on pitching mounds leaguewide.  Despite their All-Star boycott of Georgia, MLB announced an expanded television deal with China.  MLB must not realize that in China they eat their bats rather than swing them.

MLB should showcase their All-Star game in Wuhan.  Surely, the Uighurs in their Xinjiang province “re-education” camps would tune in. Even Secretary of State Antony Binken said China is committing genocide against the Uighurs.

The media needs to question Biden on how a law committed to voter integrity in a state that he won warrants a boycott, while communist China gets a pass.

The Georgia law will require absentee voters to provide identification when requesting and mailing in their ballot.  Likewise, ballot drop boxes that were temporary during the pandemic will continue but be reduced.  There were no drop boxes prior to COVID, ever.

What will MLB do when other states pass similar voter integrity laws? Stop playing games in those states?  Why are any of the 81 regular season games being played in Atlanta if this law is so egregious?

Politics injecting itself into professional sports is vogue.  In July 2016, the NBA pulled its All-Star Game from Charlotte, N.C. because a state law mandated that transgenders use bathrooms according to their birth gender. After the law was repealed, the NBA rewarded Charlotte their 2019 All-Star game.

Political division is nothing new, but the ridiculous and despotic reactions are.  Perhaps MLB is auditioning for their future masters – the Chinese Communist Party?  No need to concern yourself with voter suppression when there are no elections.

Georgia is in no way suppressing legitimate voters, but their law does make it harder for illegitimate voters – and that is the crux – for Democrats.  MLB has smeared Georgia’s elected majority as racist and anti-democratic.

State officials should sue for defamation.

Here is MLB lecturing on election integrity when nothing is more fraudulent than an MLB All-Star ballot, where voting early and often is creed.

Drive to the park, buy a beer at the game and you will need identification.  Producing identification is not voter suppression; it is voter certification.  And you better have your immunization card updated to enter because that is next.

Sports should be apolitical, but it is the weak and craven who fail to step up to the plate and make it so.  Georgia showed uncharacteristic courage for politicians something MLB and the crony and woke CEOs at Atlanta based Delta Air Lines and Coca-Cola severely lack.

If other legislatures and organizations would exhibit such resolve perhaps, a real examination, without the name calling about why one group has lagged behind in most metrics despite decades of unconstitutional subsidies and preferences.  Then we could address some real causes: 70% children born out of wedlock, 52% of murders, 37% of abortions among a culture that is only 13% of the population where entitlement and victimization handcuff advancement while atrophying young minds.

Bureaucratic elites are in lockstep with the anti-liberty, totalitarian, Constitution-hating zealots who occupy Washington.  This decision by MLB is just the latest example.

Sports is entertainment, not a political movement.

Until conservatives can boycott as effectively as leftists, expect more of the same.

Conservatives need to take a final homerun trot around the MLB bases of going, going… gone.

Good luck with your new friends, MLB.