ETBR Road Trip: California Doubleheader
The following games took place on July 8th. As usual, the author harbors no regrets about his tardiness. As for other things — he harbors tons of regrets about other things.
Game One: Inland Empire (A) 3, Lake Elsinore (H) 0
Inning One: To Clarify
Before I start, I’d like first to make clear that a California Doubleheader, contrary to what the Less Modest Reader might think, is not actually a variety of carnal relations in the tradition of the Deep Sweden or Turkish Sweater (both of which I’m sure we’re all familiar with), but rather an entirely innocent description of what awaits said Reader in this installment of the Report. For today is not only Episode One of the Ecstatic Truth Baseball Road Trip, hosted by yours truly, but it also marks the first time that I’ll have packaged two games into one.
The way I’ll do it is in much the same way that minor league teams play out their real, live doubleheaders: in two “games” of seven innings each. This helps to preserve the budding players’ (read: Journalist’s) endurance and reduces risk of injury, which is always of paramount concern to the present author.
Inning Two: Salutations
With that out of the way, allow me also to say, “Hello, bonjour, what’s up.” It’s been a couple weeks now since I bid farewell to everyone back in the Florid and Rainy Northwest and began the first leg of my Eastward Journey — which actually begins here, in California.
Of course I’m aware of the fact that not everyone back in PDX has the time and/or cash money to go around just traversing this Nation of ours, so as a service to the Reader Back Home, I plan not only on covering baseball in these electronic pages, but also in attempting to give the same Reader a sense of place, as it were.
So, first things first, here are some things — not entirely baseball related — that the Curious Reader might care to know about Southern California, where I’m almost positive Lake Elsinore and Rancho Cucamonga are located:
- Carson, CA, about which I was always excited as a child on account of my name is its name, too, is a dumphole.
- Every coffee shop in Los Angeles County requires table service. In other words, if you want even just a muffin, chances are it’ll be brought to you by someone of the Latin Persuasion.
- Boobs! I’m not lying, they’re everywhere. Sometimes not even attached to the female of the species*.
- The temperature is like 83 degrees every second of the day.
- People here refer to clouds as the “marine layer”.
- People here refer to themselves … constantly.
*Lie.
Inning Three: Nice Guys Actually Finish First
Sometimes in the world of baseball you’ll hear an announcer say — about a player or manager — you’ll hear him say that, “So-and-so is as nice a guy as you’d ever want to meet.”
I’ll be honest and say that, while I’m sure that So-and-so is probably a pretty decent chap and all, I think it’s always best — and in no place is this more true than in baseball — it’s always best to harbor a natural suspicion for the superlative construction.
But I’ll be honest a second time and also say that, when you’re talking about nice-a-guys-as-you’d-ever-want-to-meet, please don’t forget to leave North County Times writer John Maffei out of the discussion. Monsieur Maffei — who also contributes to Baseball America (which, more on that publication momentarily) — shared the air-conditioned press box at Lake Elsinore with yours truly and gained huge points, first, by not spitting on me (as has been the MO of many other Baseball Men), and second, by condescending to answer all of the annoying questions I had about the region and team. So, big ups to John Maffei.
Inning Four: Nice Guys Actually Finish First, Vol II
Sean McCall is the radio voice of the Lake Elsinore Storm and has been for 14 years. He’s also an inductee into the entirely real, so-not-fictional Ecstatic Truth Hall of Fame, on account of he called every last plate appearance of Lake Elsinore’s 33-18 defeat of High Desert on June 28 of this year.
That was the pretense upon which I introduced myself to him — wanting to know more about calling that game, I mean — and in addition to a good-natured response (“It sure filled up the scorebook, I know that much”), Sean McCall also showered me and my ladyfriend in kindness and gifts.
Regard: an incomplete list of things I got for free from Sean McCall:
- A Lake Elsinore Storm baseball cap
- A business card
- A beer
- Life coaching
- Insider info
- Good vibes
- A toothbrush (seriously)
Thanks, Sean!
Inning Five: Scene Report
It would be pretty accurate to say that the town of Lake Elsinore, California is in the middle of the frigging desert, and that, by the Transitional Property of Baseball Stadia*, the Lake Elsinore Storm’s home field, known succinctly as The Diamond, is very much also in the middle of the frigging desert. Let me tell me tell you something, Reader, in case you didn’t know it: the desert is hawt as bawls.
Today was Super Splash Day at The Diamond, which what that means is, is a ton of short, loud people (read: children) come to the ballpark and soak each other with water guns and water balloons and probably spit. That part wasn’t so fun. What was fun was watching fans throw water balloons at players — and then having the players throw them back fanward. A number of direct hits were scored and basically every last person was filled to the brim with raucous fun.
With raucous fun and beer, that is.
Inning Six: Prospecting: Aaron Breit
Aaron Breit was a 12th round pick in 2005.
His line on the season is: 50 IP, 59 K, and 17 BB. Accoring to Minor League Splits, he’s sporting a 54.6% groundball percentage.
In 6 IP this afternoon he had 10 K and 0 BB with 0 HR allowed.
Breit is interesting. His stuff isn’t overwhelming, nor does Baseball America rate him among the top 30 prospects in the San Diego organization. Still, it should be noted that he’s not ancient (23) for the level and that he seems to have improved markedly after posting a line of 51 2/3 IP, 46 K, and 24 BB (good, not great) last year at Low-A Fort Wayne. Maybe something clicked, I don’t know. I would’ve asked either a) him or b) one of his coaches or c) anyone else if I weren’t an idiot.
Inning Seven: Holy Frig
While I understand that the fowl of the air neither sow, nor reap, nor gather into barns — and also that the lilies of the field toil not, nor do they spin — while I understand all that, I still have — as I’m sure some of the Readership does — I still have designs on something in the way of individual success in this base world.
Were my sorta-vain aspirations to become realized, I’d probably find myself doing something very similar to this except, uh, getting paid to do it. Which, that’s not to say the life of an Ecstatic Truth Baseball Reporter is all bad. Free cheese-covered foods, best seat in the house, fuel-efficient cars, fuel-efficient women*: a guy could do worse (especially one that looks and acts like I do). But if we take for granted that I’m reserving this inning for vain desires, then to improve my status as Official Baseballing Journalist is the one on the top of the list.
And, for what it’s worth to the Gentle Reader, there’s a chance that I might be getting mine in the near-ish future in the form of having a piece published over at Baseball America. It’s not a guarantee, and even then it’s not a big deal, but while I was loafing in SoCal here, I wrote to them, mentioned that I’d be doing some games in the California League here and they were all, “Well, if you’re not busy, maybe interview Dodger prospect, Inland Empire pitcher Chris Withrow, and his pitching coach Charlie Hough.” So that’s what I did.
Withrow’s interesting because he throwsballhard and because he hurt himself with a snorkel, which, until I heard about it, I thought that was impossible. Charlie Hough is interesting because he pitched in the majors until he was 78. And he’s only 61 now. Strange, indeed.
Both guys, it should be noted, were totally patient and generous despite my very obvious mental and physical disabilities.
*I think you know what I mean.
Game Two: Rancho Cucamonga Quakes (H) 6, Lancaster JetHawks (A) 3
Inning One: Serious Research
On account of I’m the sort of Official Baseballing Journalist who does his homework, I made a point, before showing up to Rancho Cucamonga — a.k.a. The Place Name that Rolls off Your Tongue — I made a point of running the search term “Rancho Cucamonga Quakes” through the old Google Machine.
Well, the first result one comes upon when performing such due diligence is not, in fact, the homepage for the Los Angeles Angels’ Class-A affiliate Quakes of the City of Rancho Cucamonga. No, that’s the second result. In fact, the first result is for a Latest Earthquakes Map at the United States Geological Survey.
Turns out, “Quakes” isn’t just a clever nickname. Or, at least not as clever a nickname as Cracker Cats, which is clever in the crazy way.
Inning Two: Serious Research, Vol II
Never one to let the interweb tell me what’s what, I decided to augment my initial findings with a little bit of the old field research. And while said research might’ve looked — to the untrained eye, I mean — might’ve looked an awful like me and my ladyfriend just getting a beer and eating a pizza at nearby/an area Yardhouse location, what it actually was was serious, CIA-level fact-finding.
Regard: After some serious interrogation, Yardhouse hostess Anessa* revealed that, in fact, Rancho Cucamonga is home to “two or three little earthquakes a week and bigger one about once a month.”
Don’t tell our waiter Terrence that, though. Terrence directly contradicted Anessa’s assessment, claiming with great confidence that, actually, “There’s only an earthquake here every other month or so. And even then, there’s so small that you sleep through them.”
Conclusion: Nothing is what is seems in Rancho Cucamonga.
Alternate conclusion: The employees of Yardhouse, while sweet as candy, couldn’t tell a strike-slip from a thrust fault if their lives depended on it.
*Yes, that’s Anessa. Don’t call her Vanessa, either. That lady means business.
Inning Three: The Obvious Question
Question: What does this have to do with baseball?
Answer: Everything, duh.
Inning Four: Prospecting: Alexander Torres
Rancho Cucamonga starter Alexander Torres is probably one of my favorite minor leaguers now. Part of it is because he strikes people out (about one per inning pitched); another part is how he induces groundballs at a high rate (59.8% GB%, versus a league average of about 45%). A third part is on account of he’s only 21 years old.
His line after tonight’s game was: 95 2/3 IP with 101 K, 53 BB, and the aformentioned excellent GB%.
In 7 IP in tonight’s game, he registered 8 K, 3 BB, and 2 HR.
The homeruns are actually a little flukey, as a) they both occurred in the Top of the 7th inning, right around when Torres hit the hundred pitch mark, and b) he only allowed 3 flyball outs on the evening. 2 HR allowed on 5 total flyballs or so is an unlikely rate to continue.
Inning Five: Swear Words
Tonight’s plate umpire, Chris Hickman, had mostly umped in the college ranks before tonight’s game. After tonight’s game, he’ll probably want to go straight back.
After calling out Lancaster third baseman Gabriel Suarez on a called strike three to end the top of the third. Suarez, taking exception to the call, threw his bat and made some comments to the effect of “Be fruitful and multiply” — only not in those words.
Lancaster starter Casey Hudspeth walked the Quakes’ Efren Navarro to start the next half inning — which event seemed to trigger the murderous savage in Lancaster manager Wes Clements, who proceeded to leap from the dugout, brandish a wakizashi (Japanese short sword), and perform hari kari all over Hickman. Either that, or he swore alot and got ejected. Regardless, the Lancaster players were all over Hickman from that point on, as journalist Michelle Gardner (whom I met) was keenly aware.
Inning Six: Ancient Swear Words
If I were ever to complain to an umpire, I’d say something like this, Catullus’s famous (and very dirty) Poem 16:
Pedicabo ego vos et irrumabo,
Aureli pathice et cinaede Furi,
qui me ex versiculis meis putastis,
quod sunt molliculi, parum pudicum.
Nam castum esse decet pium poetam
ipsum, versiculos nihil necesse est;
qui tum denique habent salem ac leporem,
si sunt molliculi ac parum pudici,
et quod pruriat incitare possunt,
non dico pueris, sed his pilosis,
qui duros nequeunt movere lumbos.
Vos, quod milia multa basiorum
legistis, male me marem putatis?
Pedicabo ego vos et irrumabo.
Inning Seven: California Dreaming
Driving back to the city proper* from Rancho Cucamonga, I had the thought that, for people who are not California — or, specifically, LA — natives, but who have had ample exposure to American pop culture, Los Angeles presents a sort of bizarre nostalgia fest. While listening to the end of the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim game in the car, I heard an ad for a Chino-area car dealership. Perhaps this isn’t the case for every last reader, but for yours truly, the City of Chino is recognizable not as a center of dairy farming, nor as the host for a number of the shooting events during the 1984 Summer Olympics — although it is/was both — but rather as the hometown of Ryan Atwood, the troubled teen who falls in with the wealthy Cohen family on TV’s The O.C.
After I began this stream of thought, it took more than just a finger in a dyke to stop the deluge of examples from my mind grapes.
Other examples include:
- San Dimas = Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure***
- Encino = Encino Man
- Pasadena = The Rose Bowl
- Beverly Hills = The Beverly Hillbillies
- Beverly Hills = Beverly Hills Cop
- Beverly Hills = Beverly Hills Cop II
- Beverly Hills = Beverly Hills Cop III
- Beverly Hills = Beverly Hills Cop IV****
- Bel-Air = The Fresh Prince of Bel Air
- Inglewood = Where Paul Pierce is from, and also that song where the guys goes, “Ingle-, Ingle-, Inglewood”*****
- Inland Empire = That one crazy David Lynch film
- Mulholland Drive = That one crazy David Lynch film
Another thought, courtesy of my friend Mike Weiss, who’s writing for a TV show starring Sherri Shepherd (below) goes something like this: every place in LA sorta looks like somewhere else. Near Runyan Canyon, for example, where I climbed a hill that almost made me blow chunks, there’s a block of brick and stone mansion-y-type houses that could easily be from any of the more affluent villages of Newton, Massachusetts. During an episode of the aforementioned The O.C. — the one where Seth and Summer visit Brown University — the campus used by the show is actually UCLA’s. In Terminator 2, when Sarah Connor has the dream about a hydrogen bomb leveling planet Earth, that post-apocalyptic landscape is actually Torrance.******
Conclusion: one doesn’t have to have been to LA at all to have, in some sense, been to LA. All this crap is familiar.
*If you could call anything about Los Angeles “proper.”**
**Awesome: two meanings.
***And yes, it does appear as though San Dimas High School Football does, indeed, rule, although not quite as much as Rancho Verde High School Football.
****The interweb says this is a real thing, coming out in 2010!
*****Is that an actual song?
******JK, Torrance. Luv ya!
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