Brent Mayne

The Futures Game is Over and….I’m Alive!

So here’s the report for the morning after catching the bullpen for the Futures game. And remember, this is literally the first time I’ve squatted down to catch in 6 years. I’M ALIVE! Turns out, it is kind of like riding a bike.

I caught like 8 guys (every pitcher went one inning) and aside from some fatigue, I still got it. These guys could BLOW too…consistent 95-98, movement, etc. No problemo. Apparently the Art of Catching techniques work for old men as well.

My thumb hung in there too. I did end up locating my old thumb cast;  however, by the third pitch from the first pitcher, the thing had turned into dust. It was so old and brittle that it just disintegrated. I guess it would’ve been kinda like trying to cook with some ancient Indian pottery.

Once I got over having my thumb cast/security blanket crisis, things were cool. Except for one thing. I was a little embarrassed by my 1990 catching gear. I definitely looked a little goofy…but I guess I’m used to that.

Hopefully I didn’t jinx myself by talking like this. You know how superstitious ballplayers (and bullpen catchers) can be. I’ve still got the big show to do on Tuesday. Keep checking for more reports and hopefully some photographs to go along with.

Bullpen Catcher for the All Star Game

Guess what? I’m going to be the American League bullpen catcher for the All Star game. Weird. I knew I’d get to the All Star game someday…I just didn’t know it’d be this way. Baseball’s strange like that. You just never know.

So I’d love to say I’m completely confident in my abilities – but I’m not. I’ve gotta admit, I’m a bit scared. It’s been six years since I’ve caught a pitcher for cryin out loud. And from my vantage point, the game keeps getting faster and I just keep getting slower (and grayer.) Or the other possibility (which I’m clinging to dearly) is that squatting down and catching will be just like riding a bike.

To be honest, I think I’ll be alright. It’s mainly my left thumb that I’m really concerned about. When I learned that I had this gig, I immediately rummaged through the garage to find my old thumb cast…with no success. There’s still a little time left and a few places I haven’t looked, so hopefully I can locate my safety blanket. I really like my thumb, and with all the lefties on the American League staff, I think I’ll need it.

One good thing is that I’ll also be catching in the bullpen for the Future’s game on Sunday. That’ll give me a moment to get my bearings and hopefully get up to speed. Or, maybe it’ll destroy me. Maybe one day of squatting in the bully will require three weeks to recover from. That’s alright, I think I can rely on adrenaline to get me through the events on Tuesday.

Check back…I’ll keep posting my experiences over the next few days. Say a prayer for me and my thumb, por favor.

The Brothers K

So for the last couple weeks, I’ve been unplugged and out of touch up in the wide open spaces of Montana recharging the batteries. Right before I left, a friend of mine sent me a book that he highly recommended called The Brothers K by David Duncan.

I won’t go into all the ins and outs of the book…just get it. It’s a really good read. It tells the tale of a family of a minor league ballplayer and there’s some really insightful baseball thoughts by the author. Here’s one of them that I really liked. One of the sons is asking his father about “framing the ball.”

“What about moving the mitt after you catch the ball?” I asked.

“Framing the pitch?” Papa shook his head. “That’s not voodoo. You see it in the bigs, I know, but I say it’s stupid. The trouble with framing, see, is that even though the ump’s concentrating on the trajectory of the pitch, his peripheral vision sees the catcher’s mitt move, so that gradually he gets this peripheral feeling that his intelligence is being insulted. And believe me, anything that insults the plate ump’s intelligence is a BAD idea. What happens pretty soon is, anytime the mitt moves, even to grab a legitimate strike on a corner, the ump thinks ‘Frame!’ and calls a ball. That’s why when my catchers tried it I told ‘em to knock it off, loud, right in front of the umps and everybody.

Good stuff. Reminds me of a great post I wrote about framing a while back….

Getting Traded

This is the time of year where you start hearing trade rumors. And that brings back memories…some good, and some not so good. I got traded twice in my career, once from the Rockies to the Royals and once from the Diamondbacks to the Dodgers.

Any player who’s been around for a couple minutes is very familiar with the process. Guys come and go all the time. But until you’re one of those guys, it’s hard to relate. Getting traded during the season is tough, regardless of if you’re going from a last place team to first or visa versa.

The first time it happened to me, I was playing for the Rockies. If I’m not mistaken, it was around the all- star break and we were right in the hunt. We weren’t particularly talented, but we were scrappy and played well as a team. To make a long story short, after one of the games, I got called into our manager Buddy Bell’s office.

As I walked in, Dan O’Dowd (general manager) was sitting there too. I had no clue what was up. I remember thinking they probably wanted to discuss the game or the pitching staff or something. But I could instantly feel a funky vibe and that’s when Dan just came out and told me that I’d been traded. Bam. It was like someone sucker punched me. All I remember saying was where am I going? Dan replied, Kansas City.

That’s when I started to get pissed. I had already spent 6 years in Kansas City. Not to mention that the Rockies were in first and the Royals were in the cellar. I liked the guys on my team, we played well together, what the hell did they want? And you’re sending me back to KC? And I’ve got one day to get there? Damn it!

I just walked out in a daze, spoke to the media, said goodbye to all my friends and teammates and headed home. Telling the wife was interesting too. Basically the conversation went like this…I got traded to Kansas City, I’ve got to be on a plane tomorrow at noon, I hate to do this, but you’ve got to pack the whole house up, send everything to KC and meet me there with our one year old son. She didn’t take it well.

But took it we did. And as with most things in life, as bad as it seemed at that moment, it all turned out for the best. I made a lot of new friends, reaquainted with old ones, and we actually turned out to be a pretty competitive team.

Still though, the experience was pretty traumatic. My most vivid memory of the whole event happened the day after I got traded. I came back to Coors field in the morning to clear out my locker and get my stuff together before my flight to KC. There was a scheduled night game that day, and I was there early in the morning, so the stadium was pretty much a ghost town. I cleared out my locker and was strolling across the field saying goodbye and heading towards my car which was parked outside the left field wall.

Like I said, it was a ghost town. Just me and the field. But as I crossed the infield, someone up in the press box hit the button that played the song I used to walk up to the batter’s box…Crazy Town’s “Butterfly”.

Talk about emotional. With tears in my eyes and the music blasting in the empty stadium, I gave a salute to the mystery person in the press box and just kept walking…on to the next city. Another chapter in the life of a ballplayer.

On the Strasburg Train

Alright, I’m finally on the Strasburg thing. I held out as long as I could. I listened to the hype on the radio, read it in the papers, and thought it was all a bit much…until I saw him throw yesterday. Impressive. Velocity up the ying yang, but more importantly, movement and the ability to locate. With three different pitches no less! Plus he’s not a max effort guy.

He kind of reminds me of Greg Maddux except with way better stuff. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, from the stretch, the guy is a very quick 1.1 to the plate. Oh man, this guys a catcher’s dream.

Speaking of catchers, Strasburg didn’t have the best of outings yesterday and I hate to do it, but I hold Pudge Rodriguez partially responsible. Maybe more than partially. Here’s the deal…obviously Strasburg is on a strict pitch limit diet. Once the clock strikes 100 pitches, the guy’s done. I’m pretty sure the Nationals are committed to that above anything else.

So economy of pitches is super important. Geez, it should be about the most important thing regardless of the pitcher and his pitch count diet. The point is, I think Pudge got a little too tricky with his game calling yesterday and it cost Strasburg. Three and two change ups…with that fastball? Against the Indians? Really Pudge?

I understand that there’s a honeymoon period where Rodriguez needs to figure out exactly what Strasburg is capable of. As a catcher, you’ve got to find out if a guy can throw his off speed stuff when he’s behind in the count…or early in the count for strikes. Got it. But geez, it just seemed like Pudge got drunk with power yesterday. It looked like he was riding a horse with all these options and just got overwhelmed.

Now let’s assume that Strasburg, because he never got a chance to call his own game in college, doesn’t have an expert idea on how to attack hitters. The fact is, it doesn’t really matter anyway, because he sure a hell isn’t gonna be shaking off a Hall of Famer too much.

Pudge is in a very powerful situation and needs to be careful. He’s got the keys and his foot on the gas peddle of this super fast muscle car. So, the backseat driver in me wants Ivan to take it easy. Keep it simple. Since this horse can locate a 100 mph heater (with movement) let’s go ahead and ride that pitch a bit more. It’s the same ol story. Use the fastball till someone proves they can hit it.

Yes, Mongo Hafner got into a down and in heater and launched it down the line. Big deal. I still say pitch to contact. Even though Strasburg has the ability to strike out the side every inning, I’ll still take three ground outs on five pitches over three strike outs and fifteen pitches all day long. Let’s see the kid throw a 90 pitch complete game. The fact is, the guys gonna roll out of bed into double digit strikeouts regardless.

So that’s all I’ve got. Strasburg is for real. And Pudge, I love ya, but you know how they say “drink responsibly” ? Well, in this situation I advise (not that you should care) to “call the game responsibly.”