“As a minor leaguer, I have learned what baseball means to communities big and small.”
~ Will Savage – Former Single A Player
 
I recently saw a Facebook post from a friend of mine, Lois, it read:
 
   “I am beyond tickled to hear of this news. Personally, I‘d love to go to a game and scream, Go Trash Pandas!”
 
Well, after seeing this I had to investigate. Who wouldn’t want to yell, “Go Trash Pandas”? So, my first order of business was to figure out what a “Trash Panda” was; of course, the internet was a huge help:
 
https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/trash_panda
 
Trash Panda
Noun
   Trash panda (plural trash pandas)

1. (US, Canada, slang, mildly humorous) A raccoon, especially one that forages in garbage cans.

Okay, one informational tidbit down. Next, who or what exactly did this cheer refer? Again, the internet answered the call!
 
Turns out, they are an AA baseball team located in Madison, AL - Officially named the Rocket City Trash Pandas, an affiliate of the Los Angeles Angles in the Southern League. It was to be there first year in Madison, formerly playing as the BayBears in Mobile, AL. Apparently the BayBears were bought in 2017 with the plan of moving them to Madison. The name is a combination of the area’s association with the space program and the resourceful, determined, animal who forages for their food, the raccoon. They were scheduled to open their inaugural season, 2020 against the fabled Birmingham Barons on April 9th and celebrate their home opener on April 15th. But as you well know, with the Pandemic, all sanctioned / affiliate minor leagues had their seasons cancelled. Fascinating fact, they have yet to play a game, but have sold over 2 million dollars’ worth of merchandise since the branding was announced in November of 2018.
 
A quick scan of their roster didn’t turn up any familiar names as far as the players went. This isn’t surprising; stats show on average 17.6% of overall drafted players ever make it to the majors and only about 10% of AA players make it to “The Show”. In fact, the most recognizable name was their manager, Jay Bell who had a major league career as a shortstop and second basemen from 1986 through 2003 with the Cleveland Indians, Pittsburg Pirates, Kansas City Royals, Arizona Diamondbacks and New York Mets.  
 
So, what’s the big deal about a team with a marketable, catchy name, that is filled with roster filling players that don’t have much of a chance of playing in the bigs? It’s a team that primarily will play at a developmental level churning players through, most staying at this current level, some being promoted up, others sinking back down or being released and trying to hold on to their dreams signing on in an independent league. 
 
Well, it’s really the foundation of baseball. The minors, in little towns that support the teams and the players. It is about dreams, about giving it your shot. It’s about developing players that will never star, but who will teach the game in other towns either at a professional level or perhaps at their local high school or a travel program. It’s what keeps baseball alive, it’s what keeps the game going.
 
MLB, who had been talking about eliminating roughly 42 (out of 162) minor league teams at the end of the contact which expired after this 2020 season, pulled the trigger and sent out invitations to only 119 teams to remain affiliated with their major league club. Basically 4 teams per MLB franchise; The Rockies are only at 3, because the Fresno Grizzlies, who had been a AAA team have been offered a single A spot and a decision hasn't been made.
 
Why is this happening? MLB felt that these 42 (probably some of the ones offered a spot as well) didn’t stack up to standards, were inefficient and not worth the trouble. Or in MLB’s commissioner Rob Manfred’s own words, “If you clean up some stuff around the edges, it creates economic flexibility.” Once again, Manfred has gotten it wrong.
 
These teams are the heart and soul of the game. Minor League baseball is these towns where kids get to see live games at a reasonable price and where the dream of playing may take root for them; where young talent is developed or at the very least where the game is taught to them which in turn gets taught to the next generation. It’s the places with cool names and players that get to tell stories. It’s where players are “adopted” by families because they can’t afford an apartment or a hotel room.
 
What it is not is New York City baseball executives, or “luxury box” patrons, it’s not money pouring in and Manfred doesn’t see the need. I know the sport needs to make money, but they are being short sighted. The commissioner needs to take a trip to New England, the Midwest, rural towns in the south and out west to experience what these towns have to offer, the loyalty of their fans and the determination of those players. He really needs to see what baseball is about, but I’m pretty sure he won’t.
 
I am saddened that some towns will lose their teams, or at the very least fall from organized minor league status. I am sadden for a kid in Lowell, Massachusetts who may not go to a Spinners game if the Red Sox can’t come up with a viable option, or another kid in Clinton, Iowa that will now watch the LumberKings in the “Prospect” League if they are able to play, and 40 other towns with the same situations.
 
The Trash Pandas were invited to be the Angels AA affiliate for 2021, so for now, “Go Trash Pandas!”
 
~ Coach Mike

“And there used to be a ballpark - Where the field was warm and green. And the people played their crazy game - With a joy I'd never seen.”
- There Used To Be A Ballpark lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc, The Joe Raposo Music Group Inc
 
I was recently thinking of the many baseball parks in which I have had the privilege to watch games. Some have been major league and several minor league parks as well. Each has brought their own sense of joy and uniqueness to their team and games. So, the idea hit me, perhaps I should write, from time to time about the ones I’ve been in as well as some of the classic parks of the past. 
 
The idea appealed to me, and the more I thought about it, I knew I ‘d have to say something about this song which I had heard so many years ago. An aside, I also have it on my Spotify Playlist that I listen to while traveling to my games (more on that in a future post). It’s a song composed by Joe Raposo which was recorded by the late Frank Sinatra; how can you go wrong? Baseball and “Ol’ Blue Eyes”, great combination. This song actually was on Frank’s 1973 album, “Ol’ Blue Eyes Is Back”.
 
The song is “There Used to Be a Ballpark”. It is often said, it was written about the Brooklyn Dodgers and the fabled, Ebbets Field. However, Joe Raposo once said in an interview, that it’s actually about the Polo Grounds which housed the New York Giants (and the New York Yankees, prior to Yankee Stadium being built and even though it was condemned, the New York Mets played there for their first two seasons prior to Shea Stadium’s opening).  If you listen to the words, “the old team just isn’t playing, and the new team hardly tries” you realize he’s talking about the Giants and Mets. 
 
Yes, Raposo was being specific about baseball memories and the location, but this song touches many fans who have lost the ballparks of their youth. The old parks, with their history and physical quirks that largely have been replaced by modern concrete venues, which of course seat more folks. 
 
This song can also be a metaphor of any loss and its memories. Music can take me back to other times and the remembrance of people long gone from my life; very similar to baseball in that regard. But let’s not get too philosophical, right now. This is just meant as an introduction (and a teaser) of some posts that will be appearing in the very near future on Friday’s. In the meantime, sit back, relax and listen to Frank sing:
 
"There Used to Be A Ball Park" - Click Here.
 
Hope you enjoy it!
 
On a personal note, the line “And the summer went so quickly this year” really hit home. Probably due to the fact baseball started towards the end of July in 2020 and was a shortened season with only 60 regular season games. I think too as we age, our happy times tend to move by rather swiftly. Not that I concede anything to “aging”.
 
Let me know what you think of the idea, which park(s) were or are your favorite and if you’d like me to cover a particular one. A shout out to whoever guesses the first park I’m going to cover!
 
~ Coach Mike

Ever since I was a young boy, baseball has been my passion, my first love. Early on I wasn’t a very good player. I probably wasn’t even an average player, but I always loved being on the field, loved being on the team, just playing ball. I’d like to believe that I have gotten better. Opinions vary as they say.

Over the years, I’ve played on many teams, of many different levels; baseball, 16-inch Chicago softball, and 12-inch softball. After 9 years in a 30 and over baseball league, I hung them up, I was turning 50. Shortly thereafter I discovered 1858 Rules Vintage Base Ball and began playing on the Chicago Salmon. Base Ball from the beginning, playing “for the love of the game”. It was a great experience, but I was still missing playing our modern game.

Last summer out of the blue, I saw a post on Facebook about a league called the Chicago Central Men’s Baseball League. It said there was a 30+, 43+, 53+ and a newly formed 60+ division. It was like an answer to a prayer I didn’t even know I had said. I scan their website and figured it was worth a look. In the meantime, my wife and I ran into the wife of one of the pitchers with whom I had played in the 30+ league. Sandi told us that Craig was playing on a 43 and over team, and it sounded like the same league. I was being guided. After speaking with Sandi, I texted an old friend David about the league. David and I have known each other since we each had hair, 40 plus years. We had played together on the 30 and over team as well and I knew he’d be interested and he was.

Now, it’s one thing to be old, but it’s a whole other thing to be old and suck. David and I decided we wanted to see a game or two before contacting the league. Well, life has a disturbing way of getting busy. Each time I was going to head out to a game, something else came up. Finally, after training two clients in Woodridge I came home and saw that there were only two games left. Put up or shut up time. My daughter Colleen encouraged me to go. She said that since I opened my personal training business, I never did anything for myself, just worked. Colleen asked me to text her after the game to let her know what I thought. So off I went.

It was Friday, the 23rd of August’19 that found me driving to Veteran’s Memorial Park in Westmont, Illinois to watch the North Stars play the Yankees. Unfortunately, David couldn’t meet me there, but he told me he trusted my judgement and was going to try and attend the last game that Sunday. He also asked me to text him after the game. As fate had it, David didn’t make the Sunday game.

I arrived at the field just as the game was starting. There were three women in the stands and me. They of course were players’ wives and we talked periodically during the game and answered some of my questions but couldn’t give me very many details.
The game was well played and seemed evenly matched. The standings showed them to be the first and last place teams, but at the end of the seventh inning the score was tied. The Yankees scored in the top of the eighth and while the North Stars were batting in the bottom of the inning, the park district lights went out due to the field closing and the game reverted to the seventh and ended in a tie.
 
My plan had been to speak with the two managers after the game to express my interest in playing and get some “nuts and bolts” information, but without field lights, everyone was using their cell phones to gather their belongs and it didn’t seem like a good time to disturb them, so I gave a wife from each team my business card to pass along to their husbands and the managers.
 
While walking back to my car I ran into the two umpires, one of which looked to be in his later 30s and the other looked to be about 15 years old but was probably a college student. I told them they called a good game and began asking a few rule questions which they gladly answered. After a few minutes of speaking the older of the two umps asked me which player was my father, I said that my father had passed away about three and a half years ago. He then asked which player I had come to watch to which I replied that I was checking out the league as a friend and I had interest in playing. Here’s the best part of this exchange for me. The ump said don’t you know you have to be 60 years old to play in the league and I told him I was 61. He said that he though I was about 45! My first thought was, ‘no wonder you’re an umpire, you’re as blind as a bat’, but I didn’t say that, just thanked him.
 
When I got back to my car I texted both Colleen and David to let them know that the game was well played, that I felt we both would be able to compete and that I was excited about the thought of playing. Both teams had some good players, they seemed to be having a great time on the field and in the dugout. Seemed like a good fit. When I got home Colleen and I talked about it further and I thought that I’d like to do it, but I’d have to pass it by my wife Debbie. Colleen said she’d talk with mom.
 
About a week went by and I hadn’t heard back from either manager. I checked out the website again and was planning on sending an email to the informational link when I heard from Terry, the manager of the Naperville Yankees. We traded a couple of emails and Terry said to just give him a call. We had a very constructive call of about 45 minutes and the next thing I knew David and I were being added to their roster for the 2020 season. I called David and told him the good news.
 
This began another leg of my lifelong baseball journey; a new path if you will. In future posts I will tell you about the team and some of the experiences of my “rookie” year in 60 plus wood bat baseball. Thanks for reading!
 
~ Coach Mike

Lawrence “Yogi” Berra (1946-1965) was an original. He’s in the Hall of Fame and for good reason. A fine defensive catcher, .285 career batting average, 358 home runs, 1,430 runs batted in, 18 All-Star games, part of 13 World Series championships as a player and a manager, 3 time AL MVP and a 484-444 managerial record for a .522 winning percentage. He threw right-handed and batted left-handed. His number 8 has been retired by the N.Y. Yankees (also worn by and retired for Bill Dickey) and he is honored in Monument Park at Yankees Stadium. Yogi was also a coach in the majors.
 
Yogi-isms (colloquial expressions that lack logic) are legendary. Who knows if he really said these or not? As he once said, “I never said most of the things I said.” Here’s a small sampling:
 
“Baseball is 90% mental and the other half is physical.”

“It ain’t over till it’s over.”

“Little League baseball is a very good thing because it keeps the parents off the streets.”

“If the people don’t want to come out to the ballpark, nobody’s going to stop them.”

“When you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

“How can you think and hit at the same time?”

“So, I’m ugly. I never saw anyone hit with his face.”

“You better cut the pizza in four pieces because I’m not hungry enough to eat six.”

“Pair up in threes.”

(On the 1973 Mets) “We were overwhelming underdogs.”

“It gets late early out here.”

“Slump? I ain’t in no slump… I just ain’t hitting.”

“You’ve got to be very careful if you don’t know where you are going, because you might not get there.”

“You can observe a lot by just watching.”

“Why buy good luggage, you only use it when you travel.”

“It’s like déjà vu all over again.”

“It ain’t the heat, it’s the humility.”

“All pitchers are liars or crybabies.”

“He hits from both sides of the plate. He’s amphibious.”

“No one goes there nowadays, it’s too crowded.”

“If you ask me anything I don’t know, I’m not going to answer.”

“I’m lucky. Usually you’re dead to get your own museum, but I’m still alive to see mine.”

“Always go to other people’s funerals, otherwise they won’t come to yours.”

“I usually take a two-hour nap from one to four.”

Yogi was a "character" but had a strong personal character. He was a fine player and gentleman. More on him in the future.

​Wishing you all the best in 2021.
~ Coach Mike