My Superstition Story

I was playing in a 16-18 year old summer league. School had just ended, and everyone was fried from taking finals and everything. State high school playoffs had just ended too, so all the attention was now shifting to the summer leagues. Usually, because of the high school season, the top pitchers didn’t pitch in our summer league until all the playoffs were over. If they did pitch, it was just an inning or two at most.

The team I was playing on was OK, but we had a very good pitcher with an excellent curve ball. On this day, we were playing against a friend of mine. He was very good, and his team was one of the better ones in our league. My friend had pitched in the state all-star game that year and had become something of a legend in our area. He had a wicked curve ball, and everyone wanted to see it. My friend was probably throwing about 85 mph at the time. That was very hard for my summer league in Maryland. His curve was probably about as hard as the hardest fastball in the league – upper 70s, I’d say. His high school team had won the state tournament (I think), and most of the guys on my team were in the same division as him but a different county, so while they knew of him, they didn’t get to face him during the season. Their teams may have met in the playoffs, but if they did, my friend didn’t pitch. That’s a little context, now on to the game…

We were scheduled to play a 7-inning doubleheader. The first game was not all that memorable, but I sort of remember both teams going through a lot of pitchers. I don’t recall who won. It was hot and miserable out, and we were exhausted. Then the second game got underway. Neither our ace pitcher nor theirs started the game. About the 3rd inning, we finally brought our ace in to pitch, and he was on his game. He struck out everyone he saw. Still, we were trailing 4-3 when finally – out of pitching – they brought their ace, my friend, in on short rest from his high school playoffs. There were already two men on and no one out, so we somehow scratched across the tying run. Then the curve balls started coming. For the rest of the game, he made us look absolutely silly.

These were the only pitchers left on either side, so we all knew they were going the rest of the way. Batter after batter struck out. There were no more hits on either side. Neither pitcher walked a batter. There was maybe two balls put in play over the last four innings on both sides combined. We couldn’t even get a bunt down. The cool thing was that we all got a shot to hit off this guy though! Every one of us walked up with dreams of being the guy to get a hit off the local star – then that first curve ball would come!

After a while, fatigue set in, and we were all getting really punchy. The never-ending parade of strikeouts became ridiculous. After a couple of innings of this, our star hitter stepped in to face my friend. We were all joking with our teammate, telling him to call his shot. One curveball came in, and then he obliged us. He stepped into the box and then very confidently made a very decisive motion with his bat, pointing… right into the catcher’s mitt! Understand that the other team was faring not better through all this. The were just as punchy and were being made to look just as silly as we were.

Finally, my moment arrived. It was the bottom of the 8th inning, score still tied at 4. It was closing in on mignight, and curfew had long since passed. This would be the last inning. There were two outs and no one on base, so I was the last batter unless I managed to reach base somehow. The calls for a batter to call his shot were becoming outrageous, so I naturally obliged. I stepped into the box – all 125 lbs. of me – and looked my friend in the eye and smiled. II then raised my bat and pointed far out beyond the centerfield fence. Everyone laughed. My team, their team, all the fans. The umpire didn’t find it so funny. He was cranky, and he was ready to go home. He didn’t want to deal with this nonsense. He warned my team, “If I hear another sound, I’m making you all watch the rest of this game from the parking lot.” It got quiet. Time for the first pitch.

The first pitch came in, and it was clearly over my head, so I laid off it. Then, all the laws of physics went out the window and the ball made a movement that could never describe with words. The umpire makes the call, “Ball.” Thankfully, the pitch that I laid off because it was above my head broke so hard that it was a ball low – all the way down at my ankles! I was immediately aware that I had no shot at this. So, instead of letting teh team see me get completely embarrassed, I did the honorable thing. I stepped into the box and pointed to centerfield again! The bench lost it, and the umpire immediately gave the whole lot of them the thumb. He said the on deck batter could stay, but everyone else was to go to the parking lot. He’d call them if he needed them. My friend quickly ended everyone’s misery. He threw a fastball up in my eyes. I swung anyway. For all I knew at that point, the ball could have gone anywhere. I changed my strategy and decided I’d just try to walk. He threw an 0-2 curve that darted right through the heart of the plate for strike three. Game over.

I wan’t the best player, but I definitely had some good stories. I’m glad you all are enjoying them.

I didn’t throw it often, but I only had one guy foul it off – ever. Unfortunately, I had very poor control of it, as my release point was a tad erratic… I once threw one that hit the ground before it even got off the mound. Sadly, the catcher actually had to get up and walk in front of home plate to pick it up when it stopped rolling.

I believe I was throwing something like 14 different (self-taught) pitches when I was in high school. The poor catcher would have to give me two signs on every pitch – whether there were runners on base or not.

Is this Matt Christopher running around ripping off my baseball stories? :-)