Thank you, Ian.
I appreciate the kudos. I really do. It makes me feel good to know that my little baseball obsession will occasionally lead to something thought provoking, and interesting. I may draw conclusions that others don't agree with, but that's part of the fun, isn't it? I appreciate any opinion expressed here, especially when that opinion differs from my own, as it makes me rethink my position, and analyze things further. And like you, Ian, I was a stat geek, too, as a kid. I used to burn through pages of notebook paper, writing out baseball player statistics from memory.
What can I say? I have loved baseball since I was a little kid. I began playing organized baseball when I was ten years old. I was always the smallest player on my W.P.R. (Waukesha Park & Recreation) baseball team. I couldn't run very fast, nor could I throw the ball very far. And, I couldn't hit the ball very far, either, so I was always near the bottom of the order. I didn't strike out. I had a pretty good eye. I just didn't hit the ball all that hard.
The very little 11 year old guy holding the bat in the front row is me, circa summer 1983.
But one thing I could do, however, was catch anything hit within ten feet to my right or left. I became a darned good second baseman, and since I didn't have to throw very far, I found my home there. I was the Jimmy Gantner of the W.P.R. Braves. My dad, the tall, skinny drink of water in the white t shirt, saw my defensive genius, and coached me up. We spent a lot of time going to the batting cages, too. And I didn't stay in the bottom of the order for long. By age 15, my final year playing organized baseball, I'd hit a growth spurt. My father is 6'1", and my mom 5'8", so it was inevitable. I never got as tall as my father, but I did fill out. And the years of playing tennis, and the hand-eye coordination that came with it, finally paid off. I was a line drive machine. I hit third in the lineup, and I was driving people in left and right. But, a broken elbow that fall pretty much put an end to my baseball aspirations, and ever since then, I have watched the game enthusiastically. I have learned everything I could about the game's history. But I will always wonder how good a hitter I could have been. Not long before messing up my back, I made a trip out to Las Vegas to see my friend, Brett. And we went to a batting cage that was unique as far as I knew. It was a series of cages lined up next to each other, and the outfield walls were patterned after the walls of Major League stadiums. You had the Green Monster in left. You had the ivy of Wrigley Field. You had the short porch in right field like in Yankee Stadium. I got in the cages one last time, and I was hitting 80 mph pitching all over the field. I just missed clearing the Green Monster twice. I don't think it was full sized, but in my heart, I like to believe it was.