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Thursday, July 7, 2005

Chapter 38: Catching Up

My legs are sore this morning. For the first time in more than a year I caught a game. In fact, I think it’s the first time I’ve caught an entire game for about five years – and those games were slow pitch softball.

Last night I was catching in the Springfield modified league. Ron Bern, who is a world-class softball pitcher and has literally won the world championship in men’s professional softball (not Olympics) is our pitcher and has as much movement as anyone I’ve caught. And I’ve caught guys who later went on to pitch in the Major Leagues.

The game was excellent, though we lost 3-2 in eight innings. After getting used to how Ron pitches, he and I got into a decent groove. Within a few innings I was able to start getting into the umpire’s head about the advantages the opposing batters were trying to take on my pitcher. Ron throws a lot of rising pitches, so batters try to move up on the plate against him. They were up in the batter’s box – too far in my opinion. I quietly mentioned that to the umpire and let him enforce the rules. More than anything, it got into the batters’ heads and anything that distracts them from their job of hitting works for us.

My own batting wasn’t too strong. I went 1-3 with a single up the middle. I got called out on strikes my first at bat on what I believe was an inside pitch. It caused me to jack-knife backward, but I was sent to put my gear back on.

In the final inning they scored a run on a play that ended with me tagging another runner out at the plate. That felt good. I can’t remember when I’ve last had a close play at the plate as a catcher. It might be all the way back in high school.

Now that I’ve woken up with sore legs, I recall why I love catching. It’s not the soreness or pain, of course, it’s the feeling that I contributed more than I can anywhere else on the field. Even pitchers can’t contribute quite the way a catcher can, though I’d be happy to debate that. A play at the plate, batters walking away confused about the batter’s box. A single up the middle. If only we had won, it would have been a really good night.

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