By Nick Hall
Who saw last weekend when Matt Cain, of the Giants, and Cole Hamels, of the Phillies, both hit homeruns in the game? Let me rephrase that; Matt Cain, a pitcher for the giants, and Cole Hamels, a pitcher for the Phillies, hit homeruns off of each other.....in the same inning. Now that is just crazy.
First of all, pitchers don't hit homers very often. Matt Cain is no slouch, he has 6 HR in his 8 year career. Hamels on the other hand made that his first big league homer in now his 7th MLB season. To top it off, this is not the first time this has happened. Kevin Millwood and Denny Stark traded long-balls in 2002, but not in the same inning. Kevin Gross and Fernando Valenzuela were the last two to accomplish the same feat as Cain and Hamels. Gross and Valenzuela did it in 1990, coincidentally in the 3rd inning and both were solo HR's, same as Cain and Hamels.
This got me thinking and searching the World Wide Web. Here are some of the craziest sports records and achievements I could find. Keep in mind I narrowed my search to baseball, football and basketball. No offense to hockey and racing, I just didn't feel like searching for those. It's my column.
MLB
1999 Fernando Tatis - Two Grand Slams in one inning. Only one to ever do it, and also the record holder for having 8 RBI in one inning.
1982 Ricky Henderson - Everyone knows he set the record with 130 Stolen Bases, but he also set the record that year for most times caught stealing with 42. So that would also give him the record for most stolen base attempts in a season with 172. He had 143 hits and 116 walks that year which totals 259 times on base (probably a few more times than that on errors and fielders choice plays). Assuming he was on base more than 259 times, let's say 300 times, thats still attempting a steal more than 50% of the time he got on base, and more than 1 attempt per game. Pretty incredible when you think about it.
2006 Kevin Kouzmanoff - On the first pitch Kevin ever saw in the major leagues, he blasted a Grand Slam for the Cleveland Indians. "Glad we called that guy up" was probably the coach's thought immediately following.
1990 Minnesota Twins - In a game against the Red Sox, they turned two triple plays.......and lost 1-0.
1993 Jim Abbott - Who can forget this guy? Only one arm, his left arm. His right arm was handicapped, and he would use it to hang his glove on while he pitched. As soon as he released the ball, he would slide his pitching hand into the glove and be ready to field. Let's talk about this for a minute, I really did some research here, because he was truly amazing. First of all, he had one arm. He made it to the big leagues and pitched for 10 seasons, notching 87 wins. Sure that is impressive, let's up it a little. I told you how he pitched and fielded, well in 10 seasons he made only 9 errors, posting a career .976 fielding percentage. That means almost 98% percent of the time a ball was hit to him, only 60 feet away from the plate, he was able to make the play...with one arm. That is also impressive, but how about this. In his final year 1999, he pitched in the NL for the first time, no DH. No big deal, he got two hits and and had 3RBI. That might sound miniscule, but I'd like to see you go hit a Major League pitch with two hands. After you fail at that, try swinging the bat one handed at a 90 MPH fastball and let me know how you do. So why 1993? Well in 1993, Mr. Abbott tossed a no-hitter against the Cleveland Indians. If this guy doesn't inspire you, check your pulse.
NBA
1995 Dikembe Mutumbo - Took home Defensive Player of the Year Honors. Landed a spot on the All-Defensive 2nd Team? More reason to laugh at the NBA and David Stern. Dumb.
1997 Bubba Wells - Wells played for the Mavs. In a game against the Bulls that year, Mavs coach Don Nelson invented the "hack-a-shaq" before anyone else, only his target wasn't Shaq, it was Dennis Rodman. Rodman was a terrible free throw shooter, so Neslon sent Wells into the game with only one mission: foul Rodman and limit their points. It took Wells only 3 minutes of action to record 6 fouls and foul out of the game. Incredible. I'm not sure if I've ever beat that record on a video game, but I'll bet Mr. Dant has.
1990 Charles Barkley - Another "award malfunction" by the great NBA wizards. Charles Barkley posted the most first place votes for MVP of the 89-90 season. In fact he tallied 11 more first place votes than Magic Johnson, who happened to win the award that year?
2002 Qyntel Woods - Remember him? Me either. Although, this really isn't a record or achievement, nor did it happen on the court, I'm going to tell you anyway. Woods was stopped by police in 2002, and his car smelled of reefer. The police searched his car and found the dope. They asked him for his license and registration, he had neither. Instead, he handed the officer his basketball card and asked if it could be used as ID. The secondary charge of driving without ID and proof of insurance would lead me to believe that it does not pass. I don't know why I find this so hilarious, but I do. This is precisely why I am not a cop. If I were, he would have been let go. In my world, good comedy trumps all. I pull Mark Lemke over and ask for ID, and he hands me an Upper Deck card of him fielding a groundball....no ticket.
NFL
1979 Walter Payton - In a game against against the Vikings, Bears star RB Payton ran for a TD, caught a TD and threw a TD pass. Amazingly this happened again in 2001. It was probably due to cheating though. David Patten of the terrible Patriots accomplished this against the great Colts.
1997 Brad Johnson - In 1997 Brad Johnson made Bugs Bunny proud by throwing a TD pass....to himself.
1950 Jim Hardy - It was opening day in 1950 and Jim Hardy went into the game holding the record at the time for most passes thrown without an interception; 114. He ended his streak by throwing 8 INT's in the game.
2002 Houston Texans - In a game against the Steelers, the Texans gained only 47 yards from scrimmage the whole game......and won 24-6. They scored all three of their TD's on INT's and fumbles. Good work Steelers.
If you've gathered anything from this article, it may be this: 1.) I am very biased towards baseball. 2.) I have great disdain for the NBA. 3.) I share that type of disdain for the Patriots.
Hope you enjoyed. I would recommend Googling "weird sports records". There are thousands more just like these, some are pretty hilarious and some are downright incredible.
Discussing, Analyzing and Debating Sports Among Friends In The Heartland.
Showing posts with label The Hall of Nick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Hall of Nick. Show all posts
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
The Bird
By Nick Hall
Most baseball fans my age, have never heard of Mark Fidrych. Until around 10 years ago, I never had either. I grew up from the ripe age of 0 being around baseball. As I divulged in an earlier post, a close family friend was a professional baseball player. My uncle and my great grandfather played in the minors. I played from the time I was able to walk.
I was in my freshman year of college and I was taking a sports literature class. We got an opportunity to write a paper about a professional athlete of our choice. The only stipulation was that the player had to be from a past generation and no longer active in their sport. I was immediately excited. I remembered my dad telling me about all the baseball players he grew up watching, and his passion when telling me about them. He was at the game when Pete Rose broke the hit record. He tried to name me Ernie and my older brother Hank after Ernie Banks and Hank Aaron, but my mother shot that down. My youth would have been way different, but now I think it would be cool if my name were Ernie.
The weekend came and I called my dad. We got to talking and I told him I was writing a paper about a baseball player, but I couldn't decide who. He immediately said, "you should look up Mark Fidrych". I had never heard the name, so he gave me a brief overview. All I took away from the conversation was that he was a pitcher in the 70's, a little quirky and short lived. I almost passed it off, because in my mind that wasn't significant. I needed a Hall of Famer. Luckily, I was curious enough to at least Google him. The rest is what I found out.
Mark Fidrych was not a little quirky. He was all quirky. He was intense and he may have loved the game more than anyone who ever played it. Sometimes when I think back on it, I can't help but think that maybe he was in a situation like the movie "Big". A child in a mans body, only he happened to be in the shoes of a major league ball player. After you read the rest, that statement will make more sense if I do Mr. Fidrych Justice.
Mark "The Bird" Fidrych made his Major League debut on April 20, 1976. He made his last appearance on October 1, 1980. In 1977 he sustained an injury to his shoulder that was unknown. He pitched out the season and struggled to get healthy over the next few years until his retirement due to the injury. It wasn't until 1985, five years after his retirement, that it was diagnosed as a torn rotator cuff. If only he were pitching in this era, modern medicine would have diagnosed that right away and he may have only missed a season and been back out there. That's the quick back story, lets talk about 1976.
In 1976, The Bird had an OK year. He had a good spring with the Tigers. About half way into the first month of the regular season, they called him up and put him in the bullpen. He wouldn't make his first start until mid-May because the scheduled starter had the flu. He started the game with 6 innings of no-hit baseball and finished the game with a 2-1, complete game victory. The rest is history. He finished the season with 19-9 record. He led the league with a 2.34 ERA. Oh, and he threw 24 complete games, won Rookie of the Year, finished 2nd in the Cy Young voting, and 11th in the MVP voting. Like I said, an OK year.
The stats are impressive, but they are not what made Mark Fidrych memorable. They helped, but they were secondary. Remember that first game I told you about? The 2 hit complete game victory? Something was happening that night. Mark was running around the infield, thanking the position players for routine groundouts, he was talking to the ball and himself, he was on hands and knees on the mound patting it down, and he was sensational to boot. Fans and players alike were unsure what to think. Rico Carty of the opposing Indians was quoted at the end of the game as saying that mark was "trying to hypnotize them".
Sports are not now, what they were then to the players or the fans. Fans get up now for playoff games or a heated rivalry game every now and then, to the point where you feel like it is something of a special atmosphere to be at a game like that. Back then, sports figures were heroes. They were heroes for being sports stars. It's not like that now, we know too much about them. Certain sports networks have turned into satellite stations for TMZ. We know where Derek Jeter went shopping on Thursday, and who A-Rod is dating. Athletes aren't popular for being great at their sport, they are popular for being "hot" or funny on Twitter. It is sad. In 1976, it seemed that people didn't know much about these sports figures, but it seemed for the better. These fans worried about their own problems throughout the normal week, and then if they were lucky enough to get out to a Tiger's game, or any other team for that matter, it was time to let go and enjoy themselves. Every game was an event, and often electric. It didn't matter where their favorite sports star ate dinner the night before, all that mattered was that he did what it took to help the team win. That's what Mark did, and the Motor City latched on for one crazy summer.
The Bird was electric every time he took the mound, in any city that he pitched in from that point. In August of that year, The Bird pitched in front of 51,822 fans at Tiger Stadium......on a Tuesday. On a Tuesday night in July that year, he drew over 30,000 people to a road game against the Twins in Minneapolis. "Bird Mania" they called it. Everyone had to go see The Bird pitch in any city. They had to see with their own eyes some "crazy" guy running around the infield, talking to the ball, and talking to thin air. Did I mention that everyone wanted an interview with the guy after the games. He was equally as entertaining in that light. He once gave up a HR to Carl Yastrzemski at Fenway. When asked about it after the game, he said this: "It blew my mind. It blew my god damn mind. Just because.... hey the only reason it blew my mind was because, here I am, goin', I'm in front of my.... Fenway Park."
I could go on and on. I could tell you that he threw two 11 inning complete games. I could tell you all about his last 4 seasons after his rookie year, where he tried to make a comeback from an unkown arm injury but couldn't. I could tell you for those four years he was not good, but even in 1980, four years after that electric summer, over 48,000 fans showed up at Tigers Stadium for a game in August. It was his last attempt he would make at a comeback, and the faithful "Bird Mania" followers showed up in droves hoping the magic would be back. I could tell you all of this and more, but I would rather show you.
The video below is from a June, 1976 game against the Yankees. The Bird threw a complete game and beat the Yankees. The video shows the last out of the game, and a restless crowd going absolutely wild over a relatively meaningless game in the first half of the season. Seeing this is what captivated me. I have heard many post game interviews he did, I have seen a ton of video clips of him talking the ball and running around. I have heard him described as quirky, wild, great, funny, crazy, insane, nuts, intense, odd, and everything else. The best word I can think of to describe him is "genuine". He never changed. The Bird may have run around like a madman, but he was never playing to a crowd. He was talking to the ball and himself to satisfy something within himself. When you hear him talk in interviews after the games, it was almost like you could wait for him to reveal the punchline, but he never did, because it wasn't a joke. It was just how he was, The Bird.
It is hard to capture into words everything that I said Mark was. My best advice is the advice my dad gave me: "look him up". I now know why he told me that rather than try to spend hours explaining it. You just have to see it to believe it. Enjoy the video.
Most baseball fans my age, have never heard of Mark Fidrych. Until around 10 years ago, I never had either. I grew up from the ripe age of 0 being around baseball. As I divulged in an earlier post, a close family friend was a professional baseball player. My uncle and my great grandfather played in the minors. I played from the time I was able to walk.
I was in my freshman year of college and I was taking a sports literature class. We got an opportunity to write a paper about a professional athlete of our choice. The only stipulation was that the player had to be from a past generation and no longer active in their sport. I was immediately excited. I remembered my dad telling me about all the baseball players he grew up watching, and his passion when telling me about them. He was at the game when Pete Rose broke the hit record. He tried to name me Ernie and my older brother Hank after Ernie Banks and Hank Aaron, but my mother shot that down. My youth would have been way different, but now I think it would be cool if my name were Ernie.
The weekend came and I called my dad. We got to talking and I told him I was writing a paper about a baseball player, but I couldn't decide who. He immediately said, "you should look up Mark Fidrych". I had never heard the name, so he gave me a brief overview. All I took away from the conversation was that he was a pitcher in the 70's, a little quirky and short lived. I almost passed it off, because in my mind that wasn't significant. I needed a Hall of Famer. Luckily, I was curious enough to at least Google him. The rest is what I found out.
Mark Fidrych was not a little quirky. He was all quirky. He was intense and he may have loved the game more than anyone who ever played it. Sometimes when I think back on it, I can't help but think that maybe he was in a situation like the movie "Big". A child in a mans body, only he happened to be in the shoes of a major league ball player. After you read the rest, that statement will make more sense if I do Mr. Fidrych Justice.
Mark "The Bird" Fidrych made his Major League debut on April 20, 1976. He made his last appearance on October 1, 1980. In 1977 he sustained an injury to his shoulder that was unknown. He pitched out the season and struggled to get healthy over the next few years until his retirement due to the injury. It wasn't until 1985, five years after his retirement, that it was diagnosed as a torn rotator cuff. If only he were pitching in this era, modern medicine would have diagnosed that right away and he may have only missed a season and been back out there. That's the quick back story, lets talk about 1976.
In 1976, The Bird had an OK year. He had a good spring with the Tigers. About half way into the first month of the regular season, they called him up and put him in the bullpen. He wouldn't make his first start until mid-May because the scheduled starter had the flu. He started the game with 6 innings of no-hit baseball and finished the game with a 2-1, complete game victory. The rest is history. He finished the season with 19-9 record. He led the league with a 2.34 ERA. Oh, and he threw 24 complete games, won Rookie of the Year, finished 2nd in the Cy Young voting, and 11th in the MVP voting. Like I said, an OK year.
The stats are impressive, but they are not what made Mark Fidrych memorable. They helped, but they were secondary. Remember that first game I told you about? The 2 hit complete game victory? Something was happening that night. Mark was running around the infield, thanking the position players for routine groundouts, he was talking to the ball and himself, he was on hands and knees on the mound patting it down, and he was sensational to boot. Fans and players alike were unsure what to think. Rico Carty of the opposing Indians was quoted at the end of the game as saying that mark was "trying to hypnotize them".
Sports are not now, what they were then to the players or the fans. Fans get up now for playoff games or a heated rivalry game every now and then, to the point where you feel like it is something of a special atmosphere to be at a game like that. Back then, sports figures were heroes. They were heroes for being sports stars. It's not like that now, we know too much about them. Certain sports networks have turned into satellite stations for TMZ. We know where Derek Jeter went shopping on Thursday, and who A-Rod is dating. Athletes aren't popular for being great at their sport, they are popular for being "hot" or funny on Twitter. It is sad. In 1976, it seemed that people didn't know much about these sports figures, but it seemed for the better. These fans worried about their own problems throughout the normal week, and then if they were lucky enough to get out to a Tiger's game, or any other team for that matter, it was time to let go and enjoy themselves. Every game was an event, and often electric. It didn't matter where their favorite sports star ate dinner the night before, all that mattered was that he did what it took to help the team win. That's what Mark did, and the Motor City latched on for one crazy summer.
The Bird was electric every time he took the mound, in any city that he pitched in from that point. In August of that year, The Bird pitched in front of 51,822 fans at Tiger Stadium......on a Tuesday. On a Tuesday night in July that year, he drew over 30,000 people to a road game against the Twins in Minneapolis. "Bird Mania" they called it. Everyone had to go see The Bird pitch in any city. They had to see with their own eyes some "crazy" guy running around the infield, talking to the ball, and talking to thin air. Did I mention that everyone wanted an interview with the guy after the games. He was equally as entertaining in that light. He once gave up a HR to Carl Yastrzemski at Fenway. When asked about it after the game, he said this: "It blew my mind. It blew my god damn mind. Just because.... hey the only reason it blew my mind was because, here I am, goin', I'm in front of my.... Fenway Park."
I could go on and on. I could tell you that he threw two 11 inning complete games. I could tell you all about his last 4 seasons after his rookie year, where he tried to make a comeback from an unkown arm injury but couldn't. I could tell you for those four years he was not good, but even in 1980, four years after that electric summer, over 48,000 fans showed up at Tigers Stadium for a game in August. It was his last attempt he would make at a comeback, and the faithful "Bird Mania" followers showed up in droves hoping the magic would be back. I could tell you all of this and more, but I would rather show you.
The video below is from a June, 1976 game against the Yankees. The Bird threw a complete game and beat the Yankees. The video shows the last out of the game, and a restless crowd going absolutely wild over a relatively meaningless game in the first half of the season. Seeing this is what captivated me. I have heard many post game interviews he did, I have seen a ton of video clips of him talking the ball and running around. I have heard him described as quirky, wild, great, funny, crazy, insane, nuts, intense, odd, and everything else. The best word I can think of to describe him is "genuine". He never changed. The Bird may have run around like a madman, but he was never playing to a crowd. He was talking to the ball and himself to satisfy something within himself. When you hear him talk in interviews after the games, it was almost like you could wait for him to reveal the punchline, but he never did, because it wasn't a joke. It was just how he was, The Bird.
It is hard to capture into words everything that I said Mark was. My best advice is the advice my dad gave me: "look him up". I now know why he told me that rather than try to spend hours explaining it. You just have to see it to believe it. Enjoy the video.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Baseball Story: The Haunting
By Nick Hall
It opening weekend in 2003. I was still a Giants fan, and still trying to convince my new friends from college that I actually knew one of the most hated, yet revered players to ever play the game for the G-men. I'll let you figure out who that is.
I round up three friends to see who wants to go with me to Milwaukee and catch a game between the Brewers and the Giants. Obviously, Bram wants to go. Even though he is a lifelong Reds fan, he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to see the greatest sport in the world in person. I was also able to sway my arch enemy "Cox", and another friend we'll call "Turd", into going.
Here we are, the four of us planning a little road trip in early April up to Milwaukee for a Saturday game. The plans include taking off Friday night and heading to Turd's hometown, which also happens to be my hometown. We decide to stay the night at Turd's house, get some good home cooking, and just hang out as guys for a night low key, since we had to get up before the sun to start our drive to Milwaukee.
Dinner finishes, and the four of us are downstairs in Turd's basement hanging out. Let me paint the picture of this basement. It is a 3/4 finished, full basement. You come down the stairs and straight ahead there is a huge TV on the wall with a grand sectional couch. Off to the right there is a full bedroom with a nice queen bed. To the left of the TV is a double glass door leading to an outside cement patio that sits just underneath an enormous wooden deck. Just to the right of the TV is a doorway with no door, just a pitch black room that it leads to. This is the 1/4 unfinished.
What would four college guys do, with a night all to themselves before they take a road trip? That's right, rent "The Ring" and watch it together on the couch. Let me say this, scary movies don't get to me very often, but "The Ring" got to me. It got to all of us whether they want to admit it or not.
So here we are, four guys on the couch who just finished "The Ring". It's pretty quiet at this point. No one says it, but we are all staring at the doorway to the right of the TV. We are staring into the black abyss that waits on other side, and most likely houses the little girl from "The Ring". Some chatter starts about nothing, and then it is decided that it is time to call it a night. Turd escapes upstairs to his old bedroom and leaves us to fend for ourselves in the basement. That's when it all begins.
Cox, Bram and I are on the couch. For the moment I have pushed the horrors of what I had just seen out of my head. The focus now is figuring out the sleeping situation. One person is going to get the couch, and the other two have to share the queen bed in the bedroom to the right. A round of paper/rock/scissors ensues and the sleeping arrangement is settled. Cox gets the couch all to himself, while Bram and I have to share a bed. At that moment, I was pissed that I had to share a bed instead of getting the couch all to myself, but little did I know that my sentiment would soon change.
Bram and I head off to the bedroom. We share a bro moment playing a little guitar, before we finally swallow our pride and just get into bed together. The bedroom door is closed, the light goes out, and the bedroom with no windows turns to black. Bram and I lay there for a couple of minutes, trying not to touch, until finally I break the silence. We both have a little laugh about something funny that had happened earlier, but we were both scared. Thoughts from the horror film start to fill my mind, but I shrug it off and roll over. Silence again. Suddenly, the bedroom door opens and the light flips on. There stands Cox, one of the most quick witted, sarcastic, no worries people in the world. There stands Cox with a blank look on his face.
"The cats are talking" Cox says. Bram and I look at each other and pass it off as its just "Cox being Cox". "Whatever man, we gotta get up early" I say. "No, the cats are talking, I'm sleeping in here" replies Cox. Now its getting strangely serious, and my wheels start spinning. "What did they say?" asked Bram. "One said 'Why?' and the other said 'I don't know.' I'm sleeping in here" and we knew Cox wasn't kidding when he said that. He shuts the door and Bram and I make room for him in the middle. It's pitch black again, only this time there are three dudes in one bed. Sounds like a website, threedudesonebed.com.
We talk for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Bram and I are trying to figure out if this is real, or if Cox is just being an asshole. Then it starts getting heavy, and we start throwing out scenarios. "What if this place is haunted?" "What if we flip the light on and Turd is hanging in front of the bed?" "What if, what if, what if." Now I went from being kind of scared, to "hopefully I don't shit my pants" scared. The talk continues and we freak each other out until it is unbearable. We have to get out of here, at least for a minute. Bram and I agree to step outside the double glass door to the left of the TV in the other room and have a cig. Cox comes along out of fear of being alone, not to indulge.
The three of us walk out the double glass door. We stand with our backs to it, and Bram and I light up a cig. We start recounting what has happened so far. We turn around to look inside the basement, and wouldn't you know, right there in front of the double glass doors sits both cats, staring at us, judging us. The cats don't move for the three or four minutes it takes Bram and I to finish the cig, and neither do we. We just stare at each other, the cats and us. We put the cigs out and prepare to go inside. Cox pulls on the door, but the handle won't turn. The door is locked. The door is locked! Cox tries to turn it and pull on it some more, nothing. It's locked, and through all the commotion, the cats remain seated in front of the double glass doors staring at us. We run up the the side of the house and take the steps up the huge wooden deck that leads to the back entrance of the main level of the house. It's unlocked, a small miracle through all of the panic. The three of us bomb down the basement stares, run to the double glass doors, twist the handle and open the door. It's unlocked. I know what you're thinking, "it's one of those doors that stays unlocked on the inside but locks on the outside unless you turn the lock from the inside". Wrong. We open the door and try to twist the handle on the outside, it twists. It's not locked anymore.
That's it, I've had enough at this point. The three of us march back into the bedroom, and lay down together. Three dudes in one bed, shut up about it, I don't care, it was necessary. Evil was lurking and we had to stick together. After much ado, we all finally fall asleep about an hour before our 5am wake up call to head to Milwaukee. I, personally, have never been more happy to leave a house in all of my life.
We head to Milwaukee, and arrive at Miller Park. At this point my friends are still skeptical about me knowing this Giants player. So I walk up to will call and ask for my tickets. They ask me who left me the tickets and I say the players name. They hand me my tickets and my friends still think I might be bullshitting. We catch the game, I don't remember the score or who won, and quite frankly it doesn't matter because we almost died the night before. After the game, we pile into the car and head to the hotel where the Giants are staying. It is a really nice hotel, and it is about to be invaded by four college kids who got one hour of sleep, no shower, and who look like hoodlums in the clothes they are wearing. Luckily we fit in, they were only holding a black tie event in the main lobby, so we didn't stand out at all.
We stood there and the people working the desk glared at us. A couple of bellhops came up and asked if they could help us and we kindly declined. The Giants team bus pulls up, and the players start to shuffle in, it's the moment of truth for my friends. The one I know walks by with his headphones on and doesn't see me, so I start to approach him saying his name rather loudly so he could hear me over his headphones. Multiple employees rushed over to step in front of me thinking I was some crazed fan. The Giants player turns to see what the commotion is about, and that's when he sees me. "Hey, what's up Nick?' he says, and the stunned employees stand down. I think they were pretty upset that they couldn't apprehend me. I look back at my friends, and their eyes are huge. I wasn't full of it, it was real. They come over and meet my friend. We have a small chat and then it's time to go.
Back to school we go. It has been a long day, preceded by an even longer night thanks to the evils of Turd's house. Before we get back to school, we do have to stop by Turd's house to drop him off. We get back into Indiana, almost to Turd's house on a small country road. I am driving, and the worries of the previous night are far from my mind as we all talk. That's when it all came together. Out of nowhere a cat runs in front of my car and I smash it. I run it over and it is without any doubt dead. No more than two seconds after I hit and kill this cat, Cox looks at me and says "that's its." I say "what's it?" still not having made the connection. "The cats talking last night, one said 'Why?' and the other said 'I don't know.'. You know, as in 'Why did he kill that cat?' 'I don't know.'" The cats knew, they could see the future, and they were not happy. They messed with us.
I drop the guys off to ride back with Turd, as I had a few other things to do before I headed back to school. On the way out of town, you should know that a deer ran into the side of Turd's car. He did not hit a deer while driving. No, a deer ran into the side of his car while driving. It was a clear attempt to take me out. You see the animals, they all talk, and they stick together. Luckily for me, they didn't see us switch cars. I have not been, and will not be back to that house ever again. How's that for a baseball story?
It opening weekend in 2003. I was still a Giants fan, and still trying to convince my new friends from college that I actually knew one of the most hated, yet revered players to ever play the game for the G-men. I'll let you figure out who that is.
I round up three friends to see who wants to go with me to Milwaukee and catch a game between the Brewers and the Giants. Obviously, Bram wants to go. Even though he is a lifelong Reds fan, he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to see the greatest sport in the world in person. I was also able to sway my arch enemy "Cox", and another friend we'll call "Turd", into going.
Here we are, the four of us planning a little road trip in early April up to Milwaukee for a Saturday game. The plans include taking off Friday night and heading to Turd's hometown, which also happens to be my hometown. We decide to stay the night at Turd's house, get some good home cooking, and just hang out as guys for a night low key, since we had to get up before the sun to start our drive to Milwaukee.
Dinner finishes, and the four of us are downstairs in Turd's basement hanging out. Let me paint the picture of this basement. It is a 3/4 finished, full basement. You come down the stairs and straight ahead there is a huge TV on the wall with a grand sectional couch. Off to the right there is a full bedroom with a nice queen bed. To the left of the TV is a double glass door leading to an outside cement patio that sits just underneath an enormous wooden deck. Just to the right of the TV is a doorway with no door, just a pitch black room that it leads to. This is the 1/4 unfinished.
What would four college guys do, with a night all to themselves before they take a road trip? That's right, rent "The Ring" and watch it together on the couch. Let me say this, scary movies don't get to me very often, but "The Ring" got to me. It got to all of us whether they want to admit it or not.
So here we are, four guys on the couch who just finished "The Ring". It's pretty quiet at this point. No one says it, but we are all staring at the doorway to the right of the TV. We are staring into the black abyss that waits on other side, and most likely houses the little girl from "The Ring". Some chatter starts about nothing, and then it is decided that it is time to call it a night. Turd escapes upstairs to his old bedroom and leaves us to fend for ourselves in the basement. That's when it all begins.
Cox, Bram and I are on the couch. For the moment I have pushed the horrors of what I had just seen out of my head. The focus now is figuring out the sleeping situation. One person is going to get the couch, and the other two have to share the queen bed in the bedroom to the right. A round of paper/rock/scissors ensues and the sleeping arrangement is settled. Cox gets the couch all to himself, while Bram and I have to share a bed. At that moment, I was pissed that I had to share a bed instead of getting the couch all to myself, but little did I know that my sentiment would soon change.
Bram and I head off to the bedroom. We share a bro moment playing a little guitar, before we finally swallow our pride and just get into bed together. The bedroom door is closed, the light goes out, and the bedroom with no windows turns to black. Bram and I lay there for a couple of minutes, trying not to touch, until finally I break the silence. We both have a little laugh about something funny that had happened earlier, but we were both scared. Thoughts from the horror film start to fill my mind, but I shrug it off and roll over. Silence again. Suddenly, the bedroom door opens and the light flips on. There stands Cox, one of the most quick witted, sarcastic, no worries people in the world. There stands Cox with a blank look on his face.
"The cats are talking" Cox says. Bram and I look at each other and pass it off as its just "Cox being Cox". "Whatever man, we gotta get up early" I say. "No, the cats are talking, I'm sleeping in here" replies Cox. Now its getting strangely serious, and my wheels start spinning. "What did they say?" asked Bram. "One said 'Why?' and the other said 'I don't know.' I'm sleeping in here" and we knew Cox wasn't kidding when he said that. He shuts the door and Bram and I make room for him in the middle. It's pitch black again, only this time there are three dudes in one bed. Sounds like a website, threedudesonebed.com.
We talk for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Bram and I are trying to figure out if this is real, or if Cox is just being an asshole. Then it starts getting heavy, and we start throwing out scenarios. "What if this place is haunted?" "What if we flip the light on and Turd is hanging in front of the bed?" "What if, what if, what if." Now I went from being kind of scared, to "hopefully I don't shit my pants" scared. The talk continues and we freak each other out until it is unbearable. We have to get out of here, at least for a minute. Bram and I agree to step outside the double glass door to the left of the TV in the other room and have a cig. Cox comes along out of fear of being alone, not to indulge.
The three of us walk out the double glass door. We stand with our backs to it, and Bram and I light up a cig. We start recounting what has happened so far. We turn around to look inside the basement, and wouldn't you know, right there in front of the double glass doors sits both cats, staring at us, judging us. The cats don't move for the three or four minutes it takes Bram and I to finish the cig, and neither do we. We just stare at each other, the cats and us. We put the cigs out and prepare to go inside. Cox pulls on the door, but the handle won't turn. The door is locked. The door is locked! Cox tries to turn it and pull on it some more, nothing. It's locked, and through all the commotion, the cats remain seated in front of the double glass doors staring at us. We run up the the side of the house and take the steps up the huge wooden deck that leads to the back entrance of the main level of the house. It's unlocked, a small miracle through all of the panic. The three of us bomb down the basement stares, run to the double glass doors, twist the handle and open the door. It's unlocked. I know what you're thinking, "it's one of those doors that stays unlocked on the inside but locks on the outside unless you turn the lock from the inside". Wrong. We open the door and try to twist the handle on the outside, it twists. It's not locked anymore.
That's it, I've had enough at this point. The three of us march back into the bedroom, and lay down together. Three dudes in one bed, shut up about it, I don't care, it was necessary. Evil was lurking and we had to stick together. After much ado, we all finally fall asleep about an hour before our 5am wake up call to head to Milwaukee. I, personally, have never been more happy to leave a house in all of my life.
We head to Milwaukee, and arrive at Miller Park. At this point my friends are still skeptical about me knowing this Giants player. So I walk up to will call and ask for my tickets. They ask me who left me the tickets and I say the players name. They hand me my tickets and my friends still think I might be bullshitting. We catch the game, I don't remember the score or who won, and quite frankly it doesn't matter because we almost died the night before. After the game, we pile into the car and head to the hotel where the Giants are staying. It is a really nice hotel, and it is about to be invaded by four college kids who got one hour of sleep, no shower, and who look like hoodlums in the clothes they are wearing. Luckily we fit in, they were only holding a black tie event in the main lobby, so we didn't stand out at all.
We stood there and the people working the desk glared at us. A couple of bellhops came up and asked if they could help us and we kindly declined. The Giants team bus pulls up, and the players start to shuffle in, it's the moment of truth for my friends. The one I know walks by with his headphones on and doesn't see me, so I start to approach him saying his name rather loudly so he could hear me over his headphones. Multiple employees rushed over to step in front of me thinking I was some crazed fan. The Giants player turns to see what the commotion is about, and that's when he sees me. "Hey, what's up Nick?' he says, and the stunned employees stand down. I think they were pretty upset that they couldn't apprehend me. I look back at my friends, and their eyes are huge. I wasn't full of it, it was real. They come over and meet my friend. We have a small chat and then it's time to go.
Back to school we go. It has been a long day, preceded by an even longer night thanks to the evils of Turd's house. Before we get back to school, we do have to stop by Turd's house to drop him off. We get back into Indiana, almost to Turd's house on a small country road. I am driving, and the worries of the previous night are far from my mind as we all talk. That's when it all came together. Out of nowhere a cat runs in front of my car and I smash it. I run it over and it is without any doubt dead. No more than two seconds after I hit and kill this cat, Cox looks at me and says "that's its." I say "what's it?" still not having made the connection. "The cats talking last night, one said 'Why?' and the other said 'I don't know.'. You know, as in 'Why did he kill that cat?' 'I don't know.'" The cats knew, they could see the future, and they were not happy. They messed with us.
I drop the guys off to ride back with Turd, as I had a few other things to do before I headed back to school. On the way out of town, you should know that a deer ran into the side of Turd's car. He did not hit a deer while driving. No, a deer ran into the side of his car while driving. It was a clear attempt to take me out. You see the animals, they all talk, and they stick together. Luckily for me, they didn't see us switch cars. I have not been, and will not be back to that house ever again. How's that for a baseball story?
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Pleasure To Meet You
By Nick Hall
Well Hello,
I'm Nick. I am going to contribute to this, the worlds most amazing blog. I, like Ryan, am a Reds fan, but a converted Reds fan. I have been a Pirates fan and a Giants fan in the past due to personal relations with a player on those teams. That player retired and I succumbed to Ryan about 5 or 6 years ago and started rooting for the Reds after seeing his passion and my extreme hatred for the Cubs. Blow me, J. While I'm at it, J, I hate Notre Dame too.
I love J, and Ryan. I should point out to anyone who reads this and doesn't know Ryan, J, or myself, I call Ryan "Bramwell" or "Bram". It feels weird to say Ryan and even worse to type it. I call J "J". I have been roommates with both of these fine gentlemen. Even though J and I agree on absolutely nothing sports related, we do have common tempers, especially when it comes to video games or cussing at our favorite sports teams when they lose.
Aside from the Reds, I also am an avid Colts fan and I am coming back around to liking the Pacers. I never stopped "liking" the Pacers all together, it's just that when I was a kid the only thing I wanted to be when I grew up was Reggie Miller. I loved the Pacers, and then we started signing players at the county jail, and we became a huge embarrassment run by a complete idiot in Isaiah Thomas. Plus the NBA just kind of sucks now, it is the most terrible form of basketball played and in my opinion the worst professional sports league on the planet. And I hate Lebron James.
As for college sports I am a Michigan Wolverines fan. I only started liking them for their colors when I was around 5 years old. I am color blind, and coincidentally the type of colorblindness that I have only allows me to distinguish blues and yellows which are at the opposite end of the spectrum. Every color in between often becomes hard for me to tell apart. It's really fun and helps when picking out clothes.
Besides sports, I am an expert on movies. I also have an impressive knowledge of music and comedy (comedians). I may or may not write about all of those things and others too. I have opinions and you need to hear them.
Now to contribute to this blog. What I would like to do is start with the baseball theme. So, here are my predictions for what will transpire with the second half of the MLB season; who will win each division, the wild card, and ultimately the world series.
AL East
New York Yankees
Tampa Bay Rays
Boston Red Sox
Baltimore Orioles
Toronto Blue Jays
AL Central
Detroit Tigers
Chicago White Sox
Cleveland Indians
Kansas City Royals
Minnesota Twins
AL West
Texas Rangers
Los Angeles Angels (Wild Card)
Oakland Athletics
Seattle Mariners
NL East
Washington Nationals
Atlanta Braves
New York Mets
Miami Marlins
Philadelphia Phillies
NL Central
Cincinnati Reds
St. Louis Cardinals (Wild Card)
Pittsburgh Pirates
Milwaukee Brewers
Houston Astros
Chicago Cubs
NL West
San Francisco Giants
Los Angeles Dodgers
Arizona Diamondbacks
San Diego Padres
Colorado Rockies
ALDS
New York Yankees 2
Los Angeles Angels 3
Texas Rangers 3
Detroit Tigers 1
NLDS
Cincinnati Reds 3
San Francisco Giants 2
Washington Nationals 1
St. Louis Cardinals 3
ALCS
Los Angeles Angels 2
Texas Rangers 4
NLCS
Cincinnati Reds 4
St. Louis Cardinals 1
World Series
Cincinnati Reds 4
Texas Rangers 3
What can I say, I'm biased. The Nationals have the pitching to get them into the playoffs. I hope the Yankees get swept, or I really just hope my prediction is wrong and they don't make the playoffs at all. I hope the Cardinals don't make it very far, but it would be fun to beat them in the NLCS. The Dodgers would be in the playoffs, but injuries may take them down this year. The Texas Rangers could end up being 3/4 of the way to becoming the Buffalo Bills of the MLB. The Reds make some great trade deadline moves and finally take it home again.
Sincerely,
Nick
Well Hello,
I'm Nick. I am going to contribute to this, the worlds most amazing blog. I, like Ryan, am a Reds fan, but a converted Reds fan. I have been a Pirates fan and a Giants fan in the past due to personal relations with a player on those teams. That player retired and I succumbed to Ryan about 5 or 6 years ago and started rooting for the Reds after seeing his passion and my extreme hatred for the Cubs. Blow me, J. While I'm at it, J, I hate Notre Dame too.
I love J, and Ryan. I should point out to anyone who reads this and doesn't know Ryan, J, or myself, I call Ryan "Bramwell" or "Bram". It feels weird to say Ryan and even worse to type it. I call J "J". I have been roommates with both of these fine gentlemen. Even though J and I agree on absolutely nothing sports related, we do have common tempers, especially when it comes to video games or cussing at our favorite sports teams when they lose.
Aside from the Reds, I also am an avid Colts fan and I am coming back around to liking the Pacers. I never stopped "liking" the Pacers all together, it's just that when I was a kid the only thing I wanted to be when I grew up was Reggie Miller. I loved the Pacers, and then we started signing players at the county jail, and we became a huge embarrassment run by a complete idiot in Isaiah Thomas. Plus the NBA just kind of sucks now, it is the most terrible form of basketball played and in my opinion the worst professional sports league on the planet. And I hate Lebron James.
As for college sports I am a Michigan Wolverines fan. I only started liking them for their colors when I was around 5 years old. I am color blind, and coincidentally the type of colorblindness that I have only allows me to distinguish blues and yellows which are at the opposite end of the spectrum. Every color in between often becomes hard for me to tell apart. It's really fun and helps when picking out clothes.
Besides sports, I am an expert on movies. I also have an impressive knowledge of music and comedy (comedians). I may or may not write about all of those things and others too. I have opinions and you need to hear them.
Now to contribute to this blog. What I would like to do is start with the baseball theme. So, here are my predictions for what will transpire with the second half of the MLB season; who will win each division, the wild card, and ultimately the world series.
AL East
New York Yankees
Tampa Bay Rays
Boston Red Sox
Baltimore Orioles
Toronto Blue Jays
AL Central
Detroit Tigers
Chicago White Sox
Cleveland Indians
Kansas City Royals
Minnesota Twins
AL West
Texas Rangers
Los Angeles Angels (Wild Card)
Oakland Athletics
Seattle Mariners
NL East
Washington Nationals
Atlanta Braves
New York Mets
Miami Marlins
Philadelphia Phillies
NL Central
Cincinnati Reds
St. Louis Cardinals (Wild Card)
Pittsburgh Pirates
Milwaukee Brewers
Houston Astros
Chicago Cubs
NL West
San Francisco Giants
Los Angeles Dodgers
Arizona Diamondbacks
San Diego Padres
Colorado Rockies
ALDS
New York Yankees 2
Los Angeles Angels 3
Texas Rangers 3
Detroit Tigers 1
NLDS
Cincinnati Reds 3
San Francisco Giants 2
Washington Nationals 1
St. Louis Cardinals 3
ALCS
Los Angeles Angels 2
Texas Rangers 4
NLCS
Cincinnati Reds 4
St. Louis Cardinals 1
World Series
Cincinnati Reds 4
Texas Rangers 3
What can I say, I'm biased. The Nationals have the pitching to get them into the playoffs. I hope the Yankees get swept, or I really just hope my prediction is wrong and they don't make the playoffs at all. I hope the Cardinals don't make it very far, but it would be fun to beat them in the NLCS. The Dodgers would be in the playoffs, but injuries may take them down this year. The Texas Rangers could end up being 3/4 of the way to becoming the Buffalo Bills of the MLB. The Reds make some great trade deadline moves and finally take it home again.
Sincerely,
Nick
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