August 15- San Francisco Giants

This post pertains to the specific date posted above. Enjoy.

My parents had separated for only a few months when my other decided to take my brothers Matt and Adam and myself to Livermore, California to visit our grandmother for a weekend in August in 1989. We had left on Friday the 11^th, but we returned to our home in Bakersfield on Wednesday the 16^th after missing a few too many days of school. It wasn’t like my mom to have us miss class, but I think she needed some extra time to spend with our grandmother to really grasp everything that had come to her and my father splitting up. From what I can recall the eventual divorce hit my oldest brother Matt the hardest as he was about to turn 11 in November, and at that age the sense of “I did something to cause this” was starting to settle into his mind. My brother Adam, who would be turning 10 the same month, took a protector role as I was too young to really understand what was going on. As the years pressed on these roles shifted slightly; Matt hated my mother for almost two decades as he eventually blamed her for their split, and Adam flip-flopped a bit on things as he became way more rebellious and sometimes took his frustration out on me. I merely sat back and observed, occasionally taking the role of the leader as I became way more methodical about the situation as I got older. As I loom back on the way things have panned out, it almost feels like a dream. No child should ever be put in that situation. I fully understand that marriage isn’t a for sure thing, even in a Mormon household that I grew up in. Everyone will be changed in some way, but it’s how we react to that adversity is what truly defines our character. I did my best to rise above the pain and frustration, as did my brothers, mother and father, but that’s not to say we didn’t slip from time to time. Today we’re all a bit happier. My mother and father don’t speak to one another, but my brothers and I don’t hold the grudges against either of them, nor do we bicker and fight like we used to anymore. I’m not entirely sure how my brothers got over it, but for me, I was always sought sports for my comfort.

1989 was an especially weird year, and the divorce made things especially odd when the World Series came around that October. Adam and my father had both grown up huge San Francisco Giants fans while Matt and I favored the Oakland Athletics. Obviously we all know how that series panned out. Matt and I were more than jubilant while Adam and my dad had the bitter taste of defeat in their mouth. My mother was indifferent due to her Boston Red Sox loyalty, but from what I recall, it was the last time I remember us all being collectively involved and happy in the wake of the madness that would slowly tear us all apart for the majority of 20 years.

There’s a reason I brought all of this to the table and most of it has to do with that weekend in August. While I remember small bits and pieces of my brothers and me running around the neighborhood of my grandmother’s house on Drake Way, I only partially remember my mother crying and her mother trying to console as I looked on in confusion. As the days passed I did my best to entertain myself by watching movies and baseball to kind of tune everything out since no one was making an effort to fill me in on everything that was happening. That weekend the Athletics had taken two out of three from the California Angels and beat the Cleveland Indians on Tuesday by the final score of 5-2. As for the Giants, they had lost two of three from their longtime rival the Los Angeles Dodgers and had begun a three game series on Tuesday in Montreal against the Expos. The Athletics game wasn’t on, but the Giants game was being broadcast on KTVU, so my brothers and I ended up watching it that evening. There’s a reason why I remember all these little bits and details even though most adults shouldn’t more than 24 years later. This was the night that I, and every Giants and Expos fan who happened to be watching that game, saw Dave Dravecky pitch for the last time.

8/15/89: It would be a few years before I fully understood what I was watching. I had heard the name Dravecky a few times in the three years that I had been following baseball, but it didn’t really stick until he took the mound against the Expos. He had started the game for the Giants, only his second appearance/start of the season after he underwent surgery in October of 1988, in which doctors removed half of the deltoid muscle in his pitching arm and froze the humerus bone in an effort to eliminate all of the cancerous cells that had been spreading throughout his left arm; his pitching arm. He had returned to the mound after an extensive rehab run in the minors on August 10^th against the Cincinnati Reds, a game in which he would thrown eight innings while only allowing three earned runs on four hits and a walk on the road to the win. 

Against the Expos Dravecky had started out on fire, throwing a no-hitter through three innings before giving up a single to Andres Galarraga with one out in the top of the fourth. Dravecky went on to retire the next two batters. The Giants tacked on a run in the top of the fifth inning to give them a 1-0 lead. Dravecky had a some trouble in the bottom half of the inning, but managed to get through it after allowing back-to-back singles by Tim Wallach and Mike Fitzgerald before retiring the next three batters. Dravecky recalled a tingling sensation in his arm throughout the inning, but persevered. In the top of the sixth Will Clark led off with a single before Matt Williams cranked a two-run blast off of Bryn Smith to give the Giants a 3-0 lead going into the bottom of the inning. With a lead in tact and the minimum amount of innings to get a decision in the books, Dravecky took to the mound to face second baseman Damaso Garcia. Dravecky’s first pitch was a ball, but his second pitch was right down Garcia’s wheelhouse as he blasted it to deep left field (3-1 Giants). The next batter was Galarraga. Dravecky started off a little shaky as his arm was started to bother him more intently. He got Galarraga up to a 2-2 count but eventually beaned him on the sixth pitch. A few Expos fans booed, but it’s pretty obvious that Dravecky didn’t mean to retaliate over the home run, especially after getting the next batter to a 2-2 count. With Galarraga on first base, up to the plate came the ever-dangerous Tim Raines who had gone 0-1 with a walk in his previous two plate appearance. After a brief cool down Dravecky got into his wind-up and fired a shot that went high and to the left into the net behind home plate. Before anyone could grasp what had happened, Dravecky dropped to the ground in writhing pain. The shoulder on his pitching arm, in the same area where the surgeons had removed the cancerous tumors, had snapped. It’s not often that one sees a grown man in such pain on live TV, but the gravity of the situation never leaves your mind. There are a few videos on the web that show what happened, but I’m not in favor of posting it. Fictional violence in film is one thing, but showing something horrific happen to another human being is where I draw the line. The news broke later that night of what had actually happened, but I didn’t find out until the next day. After a few more surgeries and staph infection broke out in Dravecky’s arm, he made the decision to have it amputated.

I’ve brought this up in a few of my other blog posts, in that I really didn’t come into my writing skills until I was 13-years-old. The moment it all became apparent was in Mr. Fowler’s American History class at Fruitvale Jr. High School in Bakersfield when we were given a major presentation assignment under the topic of “Triumph and Tragedy” or “Tragedy and Triumph.” There really was no wrong way of doing it just as long as the essence of perseverance was conveyed through our report. I chose Dravecky’s story through his book Comeback. One of the other reference items I had to aid me in my report was one of my favorite videos that I miraculously came across on Ebay back in 2008 on VHS called “Champions by the Bay,” an essential collectors piece for any Giants or Athletics fan. Due to the fact that the internet was really just getting dropped on the world at the time, all of my research came from these two resources and a scatter of magazine and newspaper clippings that I could come across. At the time, I didn’t know a whole lot about Dravecky other than his years with the Giants, what I later came to realize is that he was way more of a polarizing in baseball than most remember.

Born in Youngstown, Ohio Dravecky attended his hometown college, Youngstown State, where he was drafted by the Pittsburgh Pirates in the 21^st round of the 1978 amateur draft. He spent his first three years in the minors with the Class-A Charleston Pirates (1978) before getting promoted to the AA Buffalo Bisons, where he spent two seasons (1979-1980) going 6-7 in his first year and 13-7 with a 3.35 ERA in his second. When 1981 came around he was traded to the San Diego Padres where he went 15-5 with a 2.67 ERA and 141 strikeouts with the AA Amarillo Gold Sox. It was in this season that he became a devout Christian. 1982 with the AAA Hawaii Islanders started off just as prosperous, 4-1 with a 2.48 ERA and 26 strikeouts in 16 appearances (15 in relief), when he was called up to the Majors and made his debut on June 15^th of that year. From then until the middle of 1987 Dravecky made 199 appearances (119 starts) and finished with a 53-50 record, a 3.12 ERA, 456 strikeouts, one All-Star Game appearance in 1982 and one appearance in the World Series in 1984 against the Detroit Tigers, which they lost in five games. Dravecky pitched 10 2/3 innings in the playoff that season and didn’t allow a single run while striking out 10 batters. 

In the middle of the 1987 season the Padres traded Dravecky along with Craig Lefferts and Kevin Mitchell to the Giants in exchange for Chris Brown, Keith Comstock (who will appear in a future post), Mark Davis and Mark Grant. If you know anything about 1980s baseball, you know that the Giants totally owned the Padres on this deal. For the rest of the 1987 season Dravecky went 7-5 in 18 starts with a 3.20 ERA and 78 strikeouts as well as an appearance in the National League Championship Series against the St. Louis Cardinals, which they lost in seven games. Dravecky made two starts and went 1-1 despite pitching 15 innings while only allowing one run seven hits and four walks while striking out 14 batters. Seriously, he was lights out, but the Giants couldn’t give him any run support after Cardinals’ right fielder Jose Oquendo lobbed a sacrifice fly in the second inning of Game Six.

In 1988 Dravecky started off the season well, but was shut down after his start on May 28^th when the cancerous desmoid tumor was discovered. 

He had pitched in seven games, going 2-2 with a 3.16 ERA and 19 strikeouts. When he made his return at Candlestick Park on August 10^th he was met by a standing ovation from the sold out crowd of 34,810 fans. 

As I mentioned above, he pitched beautifully. His comeback merited the Hutch Award at the end of the season which is given to the player who "best exemplifies the fighting spirit and competitive desire" of Fred Hutchinson, by persevering through adversity. The award was created in 1965 in honor of Hutchinson, the former MLB pitcher and manager, who died of lung cancer the previous year. When Dravecky’s pitching career ended on that unfortunate day on August 15^th, one detail from that game ended up being an intriguing moment down the road. Garcia, the player who had hit the home run off of Dravecky in the top of the sixth inning, saw his playing career come to an end less than month later in September 12^th. The home run he hit would turn out to be the last in his 11-year career. Even eerier, a year after he retired, Garcia started to have double vision and was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. In 1991, Garcia had the tumor removed, and was told that he only has six months to live. The effects of the tumor left him with limited speech and certain movement. He recovered enough to throw out the first pitch of a Toronto Blue Jays playoff game in 1992, the team he had been with for the majority of his career (1980-1986). His oldest son suffers from hemophilia which prompted Garcia to run a baseball camp for hemophiliac children in the Dominican Republic. As for Dravecky, he found himself at an unusual crossroad after the additional surgeries, the staph infection and the eventual amputation of June 18, 1991. After his recovery Dravecky looked at his life and analyzed his relationship with God and realized that baseball was merely a stepping stone to reach the next step. He began touring as a motivational speaker he wrote two books about his battles with cancer and his comeback attempt: Comeback, published in 1990 and written with Tim Stafford, and When You Can't Come Back, co-authored with wife Jan and Ken Gire and published in 1992. He has also written a Christian motivational book titled Called Up which was published in 2004.

I don’t speak much of religion in my posts unless it is pertinent to the topic at hand. As I mentioned above, and in a few other instances, I was raised Mormon. Most of what I have done in life may not reflect that of the typical Latter-Day Saint lifestyle (alcohol consumption, tattoos, smoking, etc.), but the one thing that has stayed within my life from those days is my faith in God. I’m a firm believer in the philosophy of “everything happens for a reason,” but that part that I differ on from most religions is that I don’t feel that God is necessarily controlling those moments. To me, God is merely watching over us, working more as a conscience when it comes to moments of right or wrong and taking the next step. It’s really more of a comfort, kind of like the way our parents are always by our sides, reminding us that they gave us the tools to succeed and now it’s up to us to choose the right path as they look on. Nothing about what I believe is meant to persuade anyone. You are all free to believe what you want and do what you want, but this is merely look into how I became the man I am today as I reflect upon the moments from my childhood that somehow became involved with the day that Dravecky took the mound for the last time. Much like Dravecky, an injury while I was playing baseball is inevitably what ended my possible opportunity to play professional baseball. Obviously mine wasn’t as horrendous, but the end result was the same: Baseball is merely a platform for us to see what our greater purpose is. For Dravecky, it’s sharing his story and sharing his testimony and relationship with God. For me, it’s sharing stories through my writing and baseball in the attempt to become a better person and help others along the way. While my drive isn’t a religiously charged as Dravecky’s, the mission is still the same.

Originally I was going to save this post until I could track down a Giants 1989 World Series cap since he was a part of the team that year, but I have something else planned for that. Instead, I chose this cap that the team used as their game cap from 1983 until the end of the 1993 season. Even though there were a lot of stories to tell during that time frame, nothing really embodied the good spirit of those teams quite like Dravecky in the two-and-a-half-years he was on the field. When I laid out my design plan for my mascot and logos tattoos I did it with the intention that every single piece had a greater story behind it. For the Giants, I got rather subtly creative.

Originally I was going to add the old Crazy Crab that everyone used to hate, and I may still add that down the road, but ultimately I chose Lou Seal. More specifically, I found a picture of Lou Seal from a kids MLB coloring book which featured a picture of him giving the thumbs up. Now, being an Athletics fan I of course had to put my tweak on it by giving it a thumbs down on top of the old school green underbrim on the cap; however, there is one aspect that I was very specific about that very few ever notice. If you look above you’ll notice that Lou Seal isn’t exactly all in frame. Yes, his legs are being boxed out by Chief Noc-a-Homa below, but the left arm was purposely covered up/removed as my tribute to Dravecky. Also, and this will blow your mind even more, if you look at the full tattoo below you’ll see that the two team mascots to his left (the Reds and Expos) are the last two teams he faced, and the last two teams he notched wins against as the Giants still won the game on August 15^th as they preserved a 3-2 lead to end the game. 

I may not see eye-to-eye with Giants fans most of the time, but I do respect their history and quite a few of their players. Until the day comes when I am dispatched from this life, I am happy to have Dravecky always be a part of it.

August 10- Philadelphia Phillies

From May 10^th to May 30th I cataloged and wrote about all of the 2012 Major League Baseball Stars and Stripes New Era caps I was able to get my hands on in honor of the men and women who served their country in the United States military and the ties they have to each team I wrote about. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to find all 30 teams, but I did promise to continue on as I was able to track down each of the remaining teams. Lucky for me, a few of the teams were issued multiple caps which all corresponded with how many game caps each team used on the field. This would explain why I wrote two posts on the Oakland Athletics on May 21^st and May 30^th. Nonetheless, my original plan was to buy all of them because I loved the concept so much; however, with time being a years removed from when they were worn I’ll be lucky if I’m able to find the remaining teams. As it stands I have nine teams left to go: San Diego Padres, Houston Astros, Kansas City Royals, Tampa Bay Rays, Texas Rangers, Washington Nationals, Minnesota Twins, Los Angeles Angels and the Chicago White Sox. There’s no telling when or if I’ll be able to find them, but the hunt and the stories that follow will be more than worth it.

You can go ahead and file this story under one of the more unusual, yet tragic stories that I have written about. Unusual in the sense that one man’s life path had so many close calls, but tragic because so many lives were lost along the way. Some of you may know this story, but I assure you I will do my best not to screw it up. I have my good friend Jason Cobb (@JasonMCobb) to thank for bringing it to my attention as my mind was really more focused on finding this Philadelphia Phillies cap as opposed to any good stories surrounding it. It was near the end of May when it was brought to my attention, right around the time when I was wrapping up on my Memorial Day posts. Jason had asked when teams I had upcoming as he is an avid reader of my blog. I rattled off the few caps I had and he asked if I had ever heard of Jack “Lucky” Lohrke. The name rung a bell, but I could put my finger on why. He then asked if I had a Phillies cap on order to which I said no. “That’s too bad,” he said. “If you get one you have to do a story on this guy,” he followed. I was intrigued. Jason has always been good about dropping some serious baseball knowledge on me and he would be the only person I’d humbly admit to knowing way more about the game than me. It was kind of a slow day at work so I was able to get a pretty thorough story before I went home and conducted my own investigation.

.190/0/1- Jack Wayne Lohrke was born Feb. 25, 1924, in Los Angeles, the second of three sons of John and Marguerite Lohrke. His father was employed by Fluor Corp, a global engineering and construction firm. Jack attended South Gate High School in LA where he dominated on the school’s baseball team. By the time he graduated (1942) he was playing semi-pro ball. His first minor league team was the Padres, but he played only seven games for them before joining a minor-league team in Twin Falls, Idaho, the Cowboys, a then-affiliate of the New York Yankees in the Pioneer Baseball League. He was named Twin Falls' most valuable player during his first year and met his future wife, Marie, who was the sister of another player. But, like a lot of his colleagues, when the time came to serve their country, Lohrke was not one to hesitate as he enlisted with the National Guard. Lohrke would soon find himself within the company of the 35th Infantry Division.

Lohrke was sent to train in San Luis Obispo, California. One day while riding on a train through California to ship off to war, the train Lohrke was on jumped off the tracks, killing three people around him while many more were severely burned by steaming water that rushed through the train car. Lohrke walked away without a scratch like Bruce Willis in Unbreakable. As a member of the 35th Infantry Division, he fought in the D-Day invasion of Normandy and the Battle of the Bulge, one of the costliest of human lives. On four separate occasions solders on both sides of him were killed in combat, yet he emerged unscathed. In 1945 Lohrke had fulfilled his duties and he was sent back to the States. Lohrke's good fortune continued when he returned to the US. A colonel had bumped him at the last moment from the passenger list of a military transport plane that was scheduled to fly from Camp Kilmer, New Jersey to his home in Los Angeles. Less than an hour after the plane took off it crashed in Ohio, killing everyone on board.

After the war, and following his transition back to civilian life, Lohrke resumed his baseball career. The summer of 1946 found him playing for the Class B Spokane Indians of the Western International League. On June 24, 1946, Lohrke was a passenger on the team bus carrying the team as it traveled toward Bremerton, Washington, to begin a road trip. At the time, Lohrke was the team's third baseman and was batting .345 in 229 at bats. His performance had earned him a promotion to the AAA Pacific Coast League's San Diego Padres but the team was unable to contact him as he was in transit between cities. The Indians’ business manager contacted the police along the route and asked that they relay the message to Lohrke, which they did when the team stopped for dinner. Lohrke, under orders to report immediately to the Padres, removed his gear from the bus, said goodbye to his teammates, and hitched rides back to Spokane. Later that evening, the team bus broke through a guard rail on a mountain pass, plunged down a hill, and crashed. Of the 15 players on it, nine were killed, including player/manager Mel Cole. The six survivors were badly injured.

"When the bus took off . . . I bummed a ride back to Spokane," Lohrke said in a 1990 interview with the Los Angeles Times.. "When I got there I found out both of my roommates had been killed." Although he was accustomed to being lucky, Lohrke said, war had conditioned him to deal with disaster. "Having been in combat, what's going to shock you?" Lohrke said in 1990. "I'm a fatalist. I believe the old song, that whatever will be will be."

From the time he joined the Padres after the accident, Lohrke was called, for obvious reasons, "Lucky"-Lucky Lohrke, the ballplayer who got off the bus in the nick of time, the soldier bumped from the plane that crashed. The name stuck. Who else, after all, had more right to be called Lucky? He's in the Baseball Encyclopedia that way: Lucky Lohrke. An amiable man, he lived with the nickname, but he never liked it, never wanted to be reminded of how close he had come to riding that bus into oblivion. But what could he do about it? –Sports Illustrated 1994

Lohrke played for seven years in the Majors, five of which came with the New York Giants from 1947-1951. From 1952-1953 he played in 37 games over two years with the Phillies, amassing a .190 average zero home runs and only one run batted-in. Lohrke’s time with the Giants was definitely more worthy of note (.244/22/95), but I already wrote about them.

After retiring from baseball in 1958, Lohrke worked in security for the Lockheed Missile and Space Co. in Sunnyvale, California and a few other companies all while living in San Jose. In April of 2009 Lohrke passed away, two days after suffering a stroke at the age of 85. Any bit of the legacy that he left behind is carried out in the few interviews he game to whomever came calling. Most notably, he lived and died by a quote he told Sports Illustrated in 1994 for a story headlined: "O Lucky Man" about the nickname he had bestowed upon him. He was known to have an aversion to storytelling or bragging about anything from his past. "My father didn't want heroes in our family." "When you're the age I was back then, you haven't got a worry in the world. You're playing ball because you want to play-and they're giving you money to do it. And then...well, sometimes those names spring back at me. I'll tell you this: Nobody outside of baseball calls me Lucky Lohrke these days. I may have been lucky, but the name is Jack. Jack Lohrke."

July 16- 2013 National League All-Star

Depending on who your team is, the 2013 Major League Baseball All-Star Game could be considered a rousing success or an absolute failure. The American League team relied upon small ball and tough pitching to notch a 3-0 victory over the National League team and won the rights to home field advantage in the World Series. Even though the win for the AL side made me incredibly happy for the sake of being an Oakland Athletics fan, I will admit the game was pretty boring. Actually, to be honest, this year’s mid-summer classic was the first one I haven’t watched since the NL beat the AL 2-0 at the All-Star Game hosted at the Coliseum back in 1987. For 25-straight years I had tuned in to watch the best in the game slug it out every summer until finally it came to an end du to the fact that I had to work. The All-Star game has always been my personal Super Bowl if you will, a one day test to see whose league was the most dominant. Prior to the 2003 All-Star Game there was never really much incentive for winning, but it was still fun to watch. The one thing that has always separated the MLB’s All-Star game format to the other major sports is that the players can’t play half-ass. I suppose if a pitcher really wanted to throw 90 MPH fastball right down the middle to allow home runs he could, but I highly doubt you’ll ever see it, or I doubt you’ll ever hear a pitcher admit it.

Baseball has always been my most consistent love. Whether I play it, watch it or just enjoy a comforting chat with somebody about it, baseball has always been there for me. Prior to this post I never wanted to admit that I had become some sort of a celebrity last season. Being the guy who has all of the team logos and mascots tattooed all over him may be a comforting label to some, but to me it has always been just a small part of who I am. Being featured in articles by Deadspin, Yahoo! Sports, Bleacher Report, etc. were just small steps that I had to endure to reach, what I thought was the top of the heap, the MLB Fan Cave; however, my experience left me somewhat jaded as I was eliminated before I was able to fulfill the one selfish request I had on my journey, going to the All-Star Game.

From the time I was first interviewed for any of the articles I was featured in my goal was clear, I wanted to share my love of baseball with the masses and bring in the next generation of fans. Years of watching games, studying the stats, but more important keeping an eye on media trends helped me come to the realization that the Fan Cave would have been a perfect platform to lead this mission. As my quest for the Fan Cave built momentum I continued to relay my mission statement over and over and over again to whomever would listen and to whomever asked. These moments included my interview process in Phoenix, Arizona during the top-30. Entertaining and educating others about the game of baseball was all I wanted, and still want to do. I know I’m being redundant, but I really need to continue to emphasize my mission. When finally asked by the executives of what I wanted for myself, the only thing that I have ever wanted for myself is to go to the All-Star Game. When asked why I stated, “I’ve always wanted to be an environment where fans of all teams come together to put rivalries aside and just enjoy the game of baseball with one another.” I also added that it would be a thrill of a lifetime to take a photo with all of the mascots in one venue, which ended up being the only thing that anyone really listened to. This was actually also a point that was brought up during our first day meeting at the Office of the Commissioner of Major League Baseball back in March not too long after the nine of us who were lucky enough to be Cave Dwellers arrived in New York. Clearly the marketing team had been plotting to take me to the All-Star Game for the same mascot-related reason. So when it came to be that I was being sent home I was a little bit pissed off and heart-broken about what I would be missing. 

7/10/12- I was at my parent’s house in Bakersfield, California at the time of the 2012 All-Star Game. I had missed the Home Run Derby the previous night as I had instead decided to go to a Bakersfield Blaze game with my friend Toni (@condorsfan06) instead. In between the innings if the Blaze game I flipped through the Facebook pages of Ricardo Marquez, Shaun Kippins, Ricky Mast and Ashley Chavez to see how their trip to Kansas City was going. All of us were still on really good speaking terms at that time, but things were creeping ever-so-close to the edge as my anger and jealousy was starting to take over.

Prior to that night I had spoken to Ricardo over the phone once or twice since I had been eliminated. No one else really gave me the time, but we did converse through tweets and texting. I had pretty much given Kyle Thompson the finger for spreading lies about during my time in New York which ultimately got me on notice with the executives; however, I have since been told that it was actually Ashley who caused all of this in conjunction with Gordon Mack. Either way, I'm still not happy about the deception. Ricardo and had been trying to relay whatever bits of information he could to me as talk of a TV show staring me had entered the picture. Having not heard a single word from anyone but Ricardo on this matter I thought it was BS, and have still yet to get any solid evidence to prove otherwise. But even at that, we still chatted. The moment in which everything went to Hell was when I scanned through Ricardo’s Facebook page to see him surrounded by all of the mascots.

A few days prior I had let loose on Ricardo after he and Gordon had stolen one of my video concepts and made it their own. The concept was an Unsolved Mysteries video in which Adam Dunn had rediscovered his swing after a poor first year with the Chicago White Sox. The only problem was that nobody else wanted to help me make it, so it died. When voting started for the All-Star Game final vote Gordon and Ricardo teamed up to make a video on Los Angeles Angels’ pitcher Ernesto Frieri… in the style of Unsolved Mysteries. After dealing with that and now the mascot photo I had all I could take.

Not wanting to see or hear anything more about their trip to the All-Star Game I had decided to not watch it. I made an announcement about it on Twitter as well which saddened a lot more people than I had expected. I think I smoked nearly a full pack of cigarettes leading up to the game when I finally decided to not let my emotions get the better of me. I hadn’t missed an All-Star Game in 24 years, I wasn’t about to kill the streak then.

For those of you who weren’t following me then it’s probably for the better, especially if you’re a Texas Rangers fan. At times I have been a bit too outrageous on Twitter, but on this particular day it was a no holds barred war of words. During my American League All-Star cap post from yesterday I discussed how the Oakland Athletics haven’t had a position player make an All-Star team since Ramon Hernandez in 2003. This particular fact was something that I had worked my ass off to change when I made a campaign video for Josh Reddick. But alas, it didn’t happen. But some really cool stuff did result from the video. My beef for his absence was fueled even more by the fact that then-AL manager Ron Washington had stacked his team with his own players who really didn’t have the stats to be there in the first place. So, needless to say, I made Washington my target for when things went wrong, which didn’t take very long.

In a ridiculous bit of foreshadowing, San Francisco Giants third baseman Pablo Sandoval rocked a bases-clearing triple off of Detroit Tigers pitcher Justin Verlander after Milwaukee Brewer Ryan Braun’s RBI-double to give the NL a 4-0 lead. After Atlanta Braves’ second baseman Dan Uggla knocked in Sandoval with the next at-bat the score jumped to 5-0. I had been tweeting up a storm prior to the game, but the one thing I had noticed was that none of the other Cave Dwellers had said a thing. Actually, the last Cave Dweller tweet was by Kyle who had taken a photo during the National Anthem. Around the fourth inning I had finally tagged Ashley in a tweet about taking a trip down the Home Run Slide after Giants’ outfielder Melky Cabrera went yard. Still no response, not even a personal tweet on her end. The game continued with the NL pounding the AL and by this time my direct message inbox, as well as my mentions, had been flooded from people asking me why none of the other Cave Dwellers were talking. I responded as quickly as I could but the questions were still coming in. I had no clue why. What I ended up doing next was meant to have neutral intentions; however, what came out was taken as rude. My tweet basically said, “Why is it that I’m talking but all of the @MLBFanCave Dwellers are silent?” It wouldn’t be until after the game that my question was finally answered with Ashley, Ricky, Ricardo and Gordon unfollowing me and Ricardo giving an explanation to everyone saying that he wanted to put the phone down and just enjoy the game. At which I texted him a “well played, I know that was directed at me.” To which he sent me a massive text saying how wrong I was to do that, how he had always had my back, stuck up for me, etc.

I felt bad for what I had done. It’s not in my nature to attack people and I sent him a long apology afterward, and then about five or six more apologies after that from July 2012 through December 2012, none of which have had anything to follow. Even on the day when I survived a mall shooting and asked to talk to him to make amends I still got nothing. As time wore on I questioned why I even bothered to apologize to him.

I guess the reality is that I hate grudges. I realize how weird that sounds considering where I stand with Kyle; however, if he was willing to actually man up and reach out to me I would be willing to listen. You know, look a good Christian ought to, but I’m Mormon, we don’t need a reason, we just do it. Shaun and I have always been fine as he actually understood what I was getting at. Ricky and I made amends not too long after the shooting and I apologized to Lindsay Guentzel about everything I may have done to her in August of last year.

The reason I marked up this cap with that particular date is to always remind me of a few things:

1. The most important- watch what you say publicly.

2. Keep your ideas to yourself (still struggling with that one)

3. Be true to yourself

On the last day that I got to hang out with Ashley, Ricardo, Ricky and Shaun in New York I made a few simple (drunken) requests that, if anything, I wanted carried out for me; none of which was too demanding. All I asked was that they have the same amount of fun as I did and to share the experience with everyone the same way that I had. Being silent during the one day when all fans and teams come together was not exactly what I had in mind. But hey, I guess that's why I'm still looking for a job in baseball.

Hopefully that last little bit helps give a little bit more insight to why things happened they way they did last year and why I will always be there for the fans. Everyone I interact with matters.

As far as why I chose the National League All-Star Game cap to air all of this out; it seemed fitting that my first All-Star Game and the last one I watched during the streak were both won by the NL. In the case of 2012 the NL won by a final score of 8-0. Both games were shutouts.

July 10- New York Giants

It was a week after my birthday this year when I came across this cap on the “shop” portion of MLB.com. I had considerably lucked out when trying to find the old 1912 Boston Red Sox on the Web site for 20% off, not to mention an additional 25% off for “closeout” caps that weekend. Not being the kind of guy who is satisfied with just one hat I decided to poke around team by team in hope of finding anything else cool. Needless to say, daddy hit the jackpot. I think when all was said and done I dropped about $300 on 14 caps. All of the closeout caps I tracked down consisted primarily of Turn Back the Clock and Stars & Stripes caps from the 2012 season, all caps I had been feverishly trying to track down since the end of October. And here they were in one easy to find place. The unfortunate reality that set in after my purchase was that I was quickly running out of the financial aid money I had to live on for my final term at the University of Oregon. Even though I needed to eat I, for some reason, found myself trying to fill the depression of being back in school with hat shopping. I haven’t even bothered to count how much I cleaned up between January and March, but I know it’s a lot. I especially know that I ended up skipping a few meals when I really shouldn’t have. But, there’s no sense in crying over spilt milk now. I have a plethora of new caps which means I have a hearty helping of stories to write along with them.

When I first laid eyes on this cap on that more-than-likely cold day in February (it’s Oregon) I couldn’t recall when the San Francisco Giants wore it. I knew that back on June 5, 2012 the Giants had worn the 1912 style which I wrote about on January 26th, but this style somehow eluded me throughout the season. It wasn’t until I started researching the hat tonight that all of my questions became answered and it made complete sense as to how I never saw it. 

The first problem that I was able to solve was the specific time period when the Giants wore this cap originally. When I bought it and when I finally found a proper Web site with photos from the July 5, 2012 game in which they were used all sources point to this being a 1924 cap. This part is actually true. The Giants only wore this specific cap and the uniform set they donned on July 5^th for a speckle of games in 1924… and that’s it.

I end that last sentence so emphatically because I got hosed by a number of mislabeled photos and bad information from a few other Web sites which led me to believe that this cap was used for road games during the 1915 season, while at the same time these same sites said that the Giants used it for home games from 1931-1932. It’s not in my nature to get duped on something like this, but needless to say I got burned this time around. I guess it’s not the end of the world. I just feel dumb now because I marked this cap up with numbers that are reflective upon the 1931 season. Yes, I am aware that this is my project and I can do with it what I choose; however, I’m a stickler for historical accuracy. For so-called experts in this field to not notice simple differences like how the arms of the “Y” are straight on this cap and wilted for other years should have been a big indicator. If anything I should be dedicating this cap to National Baseball Hall of Famers Frankie Frisch and High Pockets Kelly who were both members of the 1924 National League championship squad that lost the World Series to the Washington Senators in seven games. But, it’s me after all. I can churn stories out of numbers, photos or even game-used relics from the past. This time around, I have a lot of connecting to do.

Oh, and as far as how I missed seeing it on the field? I was driving from Phoenix, Arizona to Anaheim, California, trying to get to the Los Angeles Angels versus the Baltimore Orioles game while the Giants game was taking place.

#5- When I came across the year 1932 and this cap a wave of relief washed over me. Well, that is until I had all ready marked this up and realized how wring that intel was. However, let’s for argument’s sake say this cap was first used in 1932, what does that mean historically? Well, if you go back to my post from January 1^st on the Philadelphia Athletics right from the start I detailed about how the 1931 team was the first in A’s history to put numbers on the back of their jerseys. Such was the case for the Giants when it came to 1932. Now, I am fully aware that the 1929 New York Yankees were the first team to add numbers to the back of their jerseys all for the sake of where they fell in the batting order, but, as an Athletics fan and instigator it is my duty to point out that the Giants “of course” copied the A’s by numbering their jerseys the following year. So typical of them. Kidding. Anyway, in the case of this particular player his first year with the Giants came in 1926 at the age of 17, which is a close enough two years after when this cap was used. Therefore, I say it’s close enough to count.

Yah, it’s pretty obvious how off I am about this hat after looking at this photo of Mel Ott from 1932. I’ll try to keep from talking about this issue for the rest of the post, but this really stews me. Ott was

born in Gretna, Louisiana and was remarkably short (5’9’’) for the amount of power that he could produce when at the plate. He batted left and threw righty and played all 22 years of his career with the Giants; however, he only wore the #5 for one year, 1932. For the rest of his career he rocked the #4 with the exception of 1937 when he changed to #3, only to go back to #4 in 1938. Ott was a six-time NL home run leader, in 1932, 1934, 1936–38, and 1942. From 1928-1945, he led the New York Giants in home runs. This 18-season consecutive dominance is a record; no other player has ever led his team in more consecutive years in a single Triple Crown category. He was both the youngest player to hit 100 home runs and the first National Leaguer to hit 500 home runs. He passed Rogers Hornsby to become the all-time NL home run leader in 1937 and held that title until Willie Mays passed him in 1966.

Because of his power hitting, he was noted for reaching base via the base on balls. He drew five walks in a game three times. He set the National League record for most walks in a doubleheader with six, on October 5, 1929 and did it again on April 30, 1944. He tied an MLB record by drawing a walk in seven consecutive plate appearances (June 16 through 18, 1943). He also led the NL in walks six times: in 1929, 1931–33, 1937 and 1942. He twice scored six runs in a game, on August 4, 1934 and on April 30, 1944. He is still the youngest major leaguer to ever hit for the cycle, which he accomplished on May 16, 1929 (20-years-old). Ott was the first NL player to post eight consecutive 100-RBI seasons, and only Willie Mays, Sammy Sosa, Chipper Jones, and Albert Pujols have since joined him. He used a batting style that was then considered unorthodox, lifting his forward (right) foot prior to impact. This style helped with his power hitting. More recent players who used a similar style include Harold Baines and Kirby Puckett, as well as the Japanese home run king, Sadaharu Oh.

In 1943, all of his 18 home runs came at home; only two others ever had a greater number of all-homefield home runs. Of Ott's 511 career home runs, 323 of them, or 63 percent, came at home. (Home Run Handbook, John Tattersall, 1975). Because of this, his home run record historically has been downplayed, suggesting that a 257-foot (78 m) foul line at the Polo Grounds resulted in higher numbers at home. As a balance, the Polo Grounds had the deepest power alleys in baseball. Also, he hit more career home runs in foreign stadiums than any other National League hitter at the time of his retirement. In some of his better seasons, he hit more homers on the road than in the Polo Grounds.

Though there may be reason to believe that he was a better hitter than his record holds due to differences in National League and American League ball specifications ("All too forgOtten" Steve Treder, October 2, 2007). Those differences are considered the most outstanding in the history of the game and made it considerably harder for National League hitters to achieve home runs. During the prime of Ott's career, eleven seasons from 1931 through 1941, American League batters averaged 21% more home runs--peaking at 41% more home runs--than their National League counterparts. Babe Ruth and Jimmie Foxx, contemporaries, and both American League players, were the only batters to surpass Ott's record during this time.

Ott was named to 12 All-Star teams from 1934-1945 and is one of only six players in National League history to play for the same team throughout his career for 20 or more years. The others are Cap Anson, Stan Musial, Willie Stargell, Tony Gwynn, and Craig Biggio. Ott went to four World Series, but only won one in 1933. He was a player-manager of the Giants for six years from 1942-1947 and only a manager in 1948. The Giants best finish during that time was in third place in 1942. It was in reference to Ott's supposedly easy-going managing style that then-Brooklyn Dodgers manager Leo Durocher made the oft-quoted and somewhat out-of-context comment, "Nice guys finish last!" Ott was the first manager to be ejected from both games of a doubleheader, when the Giants lost both games to the Pittsburgh Pirates on June 9, 1946. After his playing career was over, Ott broadcast baseball on the Mutual radio network in 1955. From 1956 to 1958, Ott teamed with Van Patrick to broadcast the games of the Detroit Tigers on radio and television. He was selected to the Hall of Fame in 1951 with 87% of the vote. His number "4" was also retired by the Giants in 1949, and it is posted on the facade of the upper deck in the left field corner of AT&T Park. Besides being a home run hitter Ott finished his career with a .304 average, 2876 hits and 1860 RBI. He finished in the top-20 13 times for the NL MVP, but the closest he ever came to winning one was when he finished a respectable third in 1942. I think it’s fair to say he got screwed quite a few times.

#10- Two years in particular Ott got screwed out of the NL MVP by his teammate Carl Hubbell. Like Ott, Hubbell only wore the #10 for one season (1932) and rocked #11 for the rest of his career. And also, like Ott, Hubbell played his entire 16-year career with the Giants from 1928-1943. What’s crazy is that Hubbell’s career didn’t start until he was 25-years-old. He totally could have been a few years into his career in 1924. AAAARRRRR!!!

Hubbell was born in Carthage, Missouri and raised in Meeker, Oklahoma. He was originally signed by the Tigers and was invited to spring training in 1926. However, pitching coach George McBride and player-manager Ty Cobb weren't impressed with him. Additionally, they were concerned about his reliance on a screwball, a pitch that some believe places an unusual amount of stress on a pitcher's arm. Hubbell was sent to the Toronto Maple Leafs in the International League before the start of the season. He went 7–7 on a championship team. In 1927 he was invited to spring training again with Detroit, but McBride and Cobb still weren't impressed and sent him two steps down the minor-league ladder, to the Decatur Commodores of the Illinois-Indiana-Iowa League. Despite a 14–7 record, the Tigers didn't invite him back for 1928, and he was sent to the Beaumont Exporters of the Texas League. Well, Cobb was kind of a dick, but we all know that. Hubbell was so fed up by this time that he told Beaumont manager Claude Robinson that he would retire and go into the oil business unless he was sold to another organization by the end of the season. Years later, he said that being unloaded by the Tigers was the best thing that ever happened to him.

His break came that June, when Giants scout Dick Kinsella decided to take in a game between Hubbell's Exporters and the Houston Buffs while in Houston for the Democratic National Convention. He hadn't planned on doing any scouting, but he was impressed by Hubbell. Kinsella called Giants manager John McGraw and mentioned that he knew of Hubbell's release by Detroit, prompted in part by Cobb's concerns about the screwball. McGraw replied that Christy Mathewson had a screwball (a fadeaway, as it was called in his time) and it didn't seem to affect his arm. Kinsella followed Hubbell for a month and was still impressed.

Hubbell would go 10–6 in his first major league season and would pitch his entire career for the Giants. With a slow delivery of his screwball, Hubbell recorded five consecutive 20-win seasons for the Giants (1933–37) and helped his team to three NL pennants and the 1933 World Series title. In the 1933 Series, he won two complete game victories; including an 11-inning 2–1 triumph in Game Four (the run was unearned). In six career Series starts, he was 4–2 with 32 strikeouts and a 1.79 ERA. Hubbell finished his career with a 253–154 record, 1678 strikeouts, 724 walks, 36 shutouts and a 2.97 ERA, in 3590 innings pitched.

He won 24 consecutive games between 1936 (16) & 1937 (8), the longest such streak ever recorded in major league history. He was twice named NL MVP (1933, 1936) (first unanimous MVP pick in 1936). He led the league in wins three times in 1933 (23), 1936 (26), and 1937 (22). He led the league in ERA three times in 1933 (1.66), 1934 (2.30), and 1936 (2.31). He led the league in innings pitched in 1933 (308). He led the league in strikeouts in 1937 (159). He led the league in strikeouts per nine innings pitched in 1938 (5.23). He led the league in shutouts in 1933 (10). He led the league in saves in 1934 (eight, retroactively credited). He compiled a streak of 46⅓ scoreless innings and four shutouts in 1933. He pitched a no-hitter against the Pittsburgh Pirates (11–0, May 8, 1929). He pitched an 18-inning shutout against the St. Louis Cardinals (1–0, July 2, 1933). He also traveled through time and had a robot arm attached in the future before he went back to the 1930s. Joe DiMaggio called Hubbell the toughest pitcher he'd ever faced. One of the sentences in this paragraph is false.

Hubbell was released at the end of the 1943 season. He had posted a 4-4 record that year, marking the only time he didn't record double-digit wins. However, Giants owner Horace Stoneham immediately appointed him as director of player development, a post he held for 35 years. During that time, he lived in Haworth, New Jersey; he continued to live there after the Giants left New York. The last ten years of his life were spent as a Giants scout. At the time of his death, he was the last New York Giant still active in some capacity in baseball and still collecting a paycheck from the Giants.

In the 1934 All-Star Game played at the Polo Grounds, Hubbell set a record by striking out five future Hall of Famers in succession: Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Jimmie Foxx, Al Simmons and Joe Cronin. In 1984, the 50th anniversary of this legendary performance, National League pitchers Fernando Valenzuela and Dwight Gooden combined to fan six batters in a row for a new All-Star Game record (future Hall of Famers Dave Winfield, Reggie Jackson, and George Brett by Valenzuela; Lance Parrish, Chet Lemon, and Alvin Davis by Gooden). Hubbell himself was on hand for the 1984 All-Star Game at San Francisco's Candlestick Park to throw out the first pitch, which was a screwball.

Hubbell was a 9-time All-Star, having been honored each year from 1933 to 1938 and then again from 1940 to 1942. He was the first NL player to have his number (11) retired. His number is posted on the facing of the upper deck in the left field corner at AT&T Park. Hubbell died due to injuries suffered in an auto accident in Scottsdale, Arizona in 1988, thirty years to the day after teammate and Hall of Famer Mel Ott died of the same cause in New Orleans. Spooky.

SR- This last little bit is something that I came across by happenstance, but am technically wrong, as is the production company and, once again, the Web site that gave me really bad intel. When I first came across this cap I knew I had seen it before but not on a baseball diamond nor in a reference book on baseball, but in a movie from my youth. Which movie? “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.”

Jonathan Ke Quan, the actor who portrayed Short Round in the film as well as Data in “The Goonies,” wore the cap featured above throughout the film. Now, the timeline of the film is said to be taking place in 1935, which is also confirmed in captions during the opening scene of the film at Club Obi Wan. Yes, that is actually the name of the club. Through a few Web sites and bits of research I found out that the cap that Ke Quan was wearing throughout the film was specially designed as a period piece for the film. This is a bit problematic because the cap I am wearing (1924) was said to be the cap he is wearing. Actually, the cap he is wearing is the Giants road cap from 1921-1922. Ke Quan was 13-years-old when the film was released in 1984, so just to be fair let’s say that he was 12 when it was filmed thus making his character the same age. Even if you subtract his age (12) from the year that the film is supposed to be taking place (1935) he is still born after the last time this cap was used (1922). My point of this is, if this is supposed to be a period piece why would he be wearing a hat from a time before he was born? To press that even further, where would an Asian kid pick up a cap like that? I totally understand being able to find the cap of the year in progress, but not one that’s 13-years-old unless in a thrift/surplus shop. Since we’re also talking about the Great Depression years, all of these signs are leading to someone in the wardrobe department kind of sucking at this job. Just like all of the people, including myself, that gave me bad information on this cap. Hooray!

July 5- Salem-Keizer Volcanoes

It sounds cliché, but there has been one constant in my life that I almost always share with anyone who has made an impact in my life for the better or worse; at some point in time down the road, we will meet again. I assure you, this is one of those positive moments.

Whether you have been actively reading my posts or just getting introduced to them, there is a two-year time period that I still hold as one of the best times of my life. From 1999-2000 I served as the bat boy for the then-advanced-A affiliate of the San Francisco Giants the Bakersfield Blaze. Over the last few months I’ve gone back into my vault of stories and unearthed experiences and encounters that, for the most part, I never really shared with anyone. Most of it had to do with the fact that I never really had a platform or a reason to share these stories, but most of all; I never really thought anyone would care about them. During my second season the Blaze shook things up on the field by bringing in a brand new managerial crew led by former Baltimore Orioles shortstop and World Series champion Len Sakata. For those playing at home, Sakata was the original starting shortstop for the Orioles before Cal Ripken, Jr. stepped in and started his Ironman streak of 2632 consecutive games started; keep this in mind for later in the story. One of the members of Sakata’s crew included a former minor leaguer named Bert Hunter who was serving as the Blaze’s batting coach and outfielders coach.

Now, I’m going to do things a little more unorthodox than usual by jumping around which you’ll soon realize has great purpose.

BH- Bert only served as an assistant coach from April until early June as he was only doing extended coaching work with the Blaze until the short season-A season started in the Northwest League as he had been serving as the batting coach for the Salem-Keizer Volcanoes since 1998. Since the Volcanoes season was getting started, it was time for him to head back north to Oregon. Little did he or anyone else know, but I soon followed him up north in July when I made the move to live with my mother in Vancouver, Washington roughly 165 miles north of where Bert was. From 2000-2002 in lived in Vancouver with my mother. Only six times during that time period did my mom and I drive down to the Salem-Keizer area or southward, at which Volcanoes Stadium rests just off of I-5 around mile marker 160 and a couple hundred yards north of the 45^th parallel. For those of you who don’t know, the 45^th parallel is the degree of latitude directly between the equator and the North Pole. The reason I bring all of this up is that in all the times we passed by the stadium we never once stopped for a game.

That was a pretty sad move on my part because Bert and I got to be decently close during the two-and-a-half months we worked with one another. After the third game of the 2000 California League season Bert dubbed me with the nickname “Spread Killer.” The story behind that has to do with an unfortunate reality of minor league baseball; it’s really not that glamorous. Before every game the team provided a food spread for the players which consisted of bread, peanut butter and grape or strawberry jelly. That’s it. Unlike the Oakland Athletics in “Moneyball,” sodas from the fountains in the concessions booths were free to the players and staff. But, before every game I always made myself a PB & J sandwich without ever asking any of the coaches or players permission. Because of this, I became the “Spread Killer.” To pay penance for all of the sandwiches I had enjoyed before every game I provided the team with entertainment from my house which consisted of my Nintendo 64 and an electronic dartboard that I happened to have lying around the house. Both of these gestures went very far with the guys, but they still called me “Spread Killer,” except this time they didn’t have a dickish tone about it. After almost every game Bert and I rolled a best of three series of 301 on the dartboard. Of all the guys in the clubhouse, he was the only one who could contest with me.

June 2013

It was a rather boring Saturday at work at Just Sports (@JustSportsPDX) alongside my former co-worker Bradley. I say former because he had put his two weeks notice in and would be moving on to another job shortly after this date. Bradley was about an hour away from clocking out for the day and on the sales floor while I was behind the counter picking up a pile of stocking caps that had been knocked onto the floor by a customer. As I reached for the last one I heard Bradley say, “Hey, how are you doing?” to someone who had just walked in. Within a matter of seconds I recognized his first, but I couldn’t pinpoint why. Rather than be a jerk and ask where we might have known each other, I held back, played it cool and let Bradley do all of the talking. The two gabbed about baseball for a few seconds which gave Bradley allowed Bradley to chime in about the “black and orange” since he’s a Giants fan. The man then mentioned that he was a black and orange fan himself, but his allegiance falls with the Orioles. I had a feeling of déjà vu wash over me as Bradley and I had talked about the Orioles almost days prior, mainly about Ripken, Jr. and September 6, 1995, the day Ripken passed Lou Gehrig on the consecutive games played list. Bradley, being the big Ripken, Jr. fan that he is, brought that moment up. The man then talked about how awesome that night was from his perspective, which he followed up with, “and I was there.” Somehow Bradley didn’t hear that part, but that was all I needed to hear for everything to finally come jarring loose in my brain.

“You played professionally for a few years, didn’t you?” I asked.

“Yes I did. Nine years,” he said.

“You used to coach the Bakersfield Blaze back in 2000, right?” I followed up with.

He looked at me with a slightly puzzled look and then said, “Yaaaaahhh… but I spent most of my coach years with the Salem-Keizer Volcanoes.” At this point I had to ask his name as I had forgotten it. Sure enough, it was Bert. Bert was still a bit confused as to how I knew him and he didn’t know me, so I asked him, “Do you remember a spiky blonde-haired kid who worked as the bat boy back in Bakersfield?” He said, “Yaaaahhh… I kind of do.” I then helped him out a little bit more, “We used to play darts after all of the games and you always called me “Spread Killer.”” As soon as the last syllable escaped my mouth his eyes widened and he let out a boisterous, “Oh my God!!!” and chuckled.

In about 10 minutes, the time it then took for his wife and kids to come into the store, we caught up on 13 years of lost time. Bert managed for six years in the Arizona League, still within the Giants organization from 2002-02. The Rookie League club won four league titles and he was named manager of the year in 2004 after the team went 37-19. After that he went home to Keizer and got on with Willamette University, a private and solid baseball school in Salem where he has been the team’s third base and outfielders coach since 2009. One of his daughters plays basketball at Oregon State University. I told him about graduating from the University of Oregon, the MLB Fan Cave, my baseball tour and how I’m trying to break into baseball as a writer. My only regret from our conversation was that I didn’t get a photo with him before he left, but I still find it funny that very little had changed with him and so much had changed with me, yet we were both still doing our thing in the environment that we both have a kinship for, baseball.

In the 14 years that I’ve lived in the Pacific Northwest I for some reason only made it out to a Volcanoes game once, and that happened by chance in 2005. I had a brief (one week) internship with the local newspaper, The Statesman Journal, working as a stringer for their sports page. On my second night I was sent to Volcanoes Stadium to shadow their Volcanoes beat writer, whose name escapes me, as the home team took on the visiting Tri-Cities Dust Devils. I don’t remember too much from the game other than the fact that the Volcanoes won. After the game we headed to the clubhouse for post-game interviews with a few of the key players, both of whom I decided to write about and mark my cap with. What I didn’t know at the time, like Bert above, we’d have quite the reunion a few years down the road. But first…

In 1996, Bellingham Giants co-owners Jerry Walker and William Tucker announced that they were moving the NWL franchise to Keizer, Oregon, a city of 22,000 located immediately north of Salem. The Bellingham club, short-season Class A affiliate of the Giants, had the NWL's lowest attendance figures during each of its two seasons. Keizer had striven to assert itself as an independent, thriving city for 12 years since the former Salem suburb had become an incorporated municipality. City officials, led by Mayor Dennis Koho, and civic leaders worked toward getting a new baseball stadium located and built in Keizer. The area had lacked a suitable facility for pro baseball since the early 1960s, when the Salem Dodgers vacated historic Waters Field (which burned down in 1966). Volcanoes Stadium was built in less than a year, on a tract of land adjacent to I-5 just northwest of the Keizer interchange. The 4,252-seat facility was ready for the debut of the Salem-Keizer Volcanoes in 1997. Two years later, the American Institute of Architects honored the Volcanoes with a design award for the stadium. This cap, according to Chris Creamer’s Sportslogos.net has been around since their inaugural season.

Well, I suppose there is a little bit of truth to that. This particular card was from the 1998 season and features the “V” with the baseball blowing its dome out like a smoke stack; however, this particular panel shading on the cap was first introduced for the 2003 season. Prior to that, all of the caps featuring this logo were a very light grey. Even funnier, when trying to track down photo of players wearing this cap, I this was the first photo that came up.

What’s unusual about this photo is that Tim Lincecum only pitched in two games for a total of four innings for the Volcanoes. In my opinion, I think someone with a bit more history with the team should have been higher on the search criteria. You know, someone like these two knuckleheads below. And one thing I need to point out, I couldn't find photos of either of these guys wearing this hat.

#20- Sergio Romo was born in Brawley, California. He graduated from Brawley Union High School in 2001, having played shortstop and third base on the baseball team. With no scholarship offers from four-year colleges, Romo nearly signed enlistment papers to follow his father in the U.S. Navy, but opted to play baseball at junior college instead. Romo first went to Orange Coast College before transferring to Arizona Western College. Romo was named to the All-Region I second team of the Arizona Community College Athletic Conference in 2002 and 2003. In 159 innings, Romo earned a 16-4 overall record with a 2.79 earned run average (ERA).

For his junior and senior years, Romo played NCAA Division II baseball at two colleges: the University of North Alabama (2004) and Colorado Mesa University (formerly Mesa State College) (2005). He was named First-Team All-Gulf South Conference in 2004 while playing for North Alabama and was 10-3 with a 3.69 ERA in 97.1 innings. In his senior year with Mesa State (2005), he was the Rocky Mountain Athletic Conference Pitcher of the Year. That same year Romo was drafted by the Giants in 28^th round of the Major League Baseball amateur draft.

Romo only played one season for the Volcanoes in… you guessed it, 2005. In fact, it was the first of two years as a professional that he pitched as a starter. That year he took to the hill for 15 games, 14 of which were starts. He went 7-1 with a 2.75 ERA and 65 strikeouts in 68.2 innings pitched. Impressive.

#38- Playing third base for the Volcanoes that season was an 18-year-old kid from Puerto Cabello, Carabobo, Venezuela who was signed as an undrafted free agent in 2002 and goes by the nickname “Kung Fu Panda.” Yup! Pablo Sandoval lit up the NWL that season with his bat, hitting .330 with three home runs, 15 doubles and 50 RBI.

On the night I was in house, July 4, 2005, Sandoval went 2-5 with one of his two triples on the season and two RBI. Romo was equally a s brilliant throwing five solid innings, allowing only two hits, one walk, one earned run and struck out five. At the time Sandoval didn’t know much English so Romo did a bit of the translation work for him during the interview. From what I can recall they were both incredibly pleasant guys, both of whom had the potential to break out further down in their careers. How right that statement turned out to be.

Now, as I mentioned above, we did meet years later, last year to be exact in the Fan Cave.

As sharp as my memory is I had completely forgotten about that night in Keizer just as much as they probably did as well. The day in the Fan Cave was rather interesting for more than just the video and premise that they were brought in for. If you haven’t seen it, check it out. The concept was pretty clever; Sandoval and Romo had a little booth in Washington Square Park and the two would give out custom handshakes to people who dropped a quarter in their jar for charity. Before we left Sandoval and Romo kept calling me B-Weezy on account of my beard and how I looked like closer Brian Wilson, but they were also giving me smack for wearing an Oakland Athletics shirt that day. Not being one to be a “Buzz Killngton,” I told them to wait a second while I went to my cubby box to throw on my sweatshirt. I dropped my hat in, tied my hair back, put on my favorite black hooded sweatshirt, threw up the hood and rocked some shades before turning around to greet them again. Both of them lost their minds and rallied for me to be a part of the video because I looked the part so much.

As much as that last little bit sounds like BS, here’s the proof. 

This sketch was put together two days after Wilson had gotten his second Tommy John surgery and I did my best to play it off the whole time they were there as if I was actually Wilson. My impression, despite saying little-to-nothing, was so successful that I got requests for pictures and autographs the entire time we were out in the park. To everyone who asked I repeatedly told them that I WAS NOT Wilson; however, all of them thought that I was just saying that as a rouse. It wasn’t until I took off the sunglasses, removed the hood and moved my arms around that people finally believed me. Romo and Sandoval had a good laugh about it, but all of the scenes with me were edited out, more than likely because I made Ashley Chavez, the Giants fan, seem irrelevant. This happened a lot, and not because of anything I purposely did, but because everyone thought I looked like Wilson so often, they all assumed that I was the Giants fan of the group. In fact, there was another sketch that was supposed to be filmed the next morning with only me. The concept was that Giants pitcher Barry Zito and I were going to walk around Times Square for an hour to see who would get more photo and autograph requests. An hour before I had to be at the Fan Cave the next morning Zito backed out. Funny.