Tag Archives: Baseball

The Team From Nowhere: Beyond The Galaxy

Coach Stotlmeyer was sitting on the home team bench staring out into forever. The wind flowed with leaves and the onset of fall signaling the end of baseball season. Baseball was not exactly on Coach Stotlmeyer’s mind. What was on his mind were galaxies outside of the Milky Way and which one was home to his team and now Coach Brown. Coach had left a note, surprisingly legible to most humans, explaining that he’d pretty much done all that he wanted to on this planet. Since his wife’s passing a few years back he felt empty and thought this could be what fills him up. Frankly it would probably fill most people up if they had the chance and the courage to take the leap. Most people wouldn’t but Coach Brown was not most people. He hoped Coach found what he was looking for.

He on the other hand was like most people and there was no way he’d move his entire family to a different planet let alone a different galaxy in the middle of a school year. He would miss the team but he wouldn’t have to sacrifice his health to communicate with them.

Did you miss the beginning?

Start here.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

“If you find yourself surrounded by beings of intelligence it means the aliens are already here.”



Coach Brown was in his office going over the roster for the next game when Coach Stottlemeyer limped in.

“I see that your ankle is better,” stated Coach Brown.

“Yes but I injured the other one during last weeks team meeting. This is the one I injured yesterday when the team popped into my place for a sit down.”

“A sit down?”

“Well not so much a sit down but an informal dance recital.”

“A recital? Who performed?”

“We all did actually.”

“What did they want to um, talk to you about?”

“They are finding the concept of errors in baseball hard to understand. Apparently their intelligence doesn’t allow them to make mistakes.”

“Now that’s a concept that I can’t understand. Didn’t they make errors all last game?”

“No, what they did last week is what I instructed them to do. Exactly what I instructed them to do. They thought I was introducing additional rules.. They really can’t understand anything in between. There are no gray areas in life for these guys. They have no concept of wrong, philosophical or otherwise. “

“Interesting I guess that’s what comes with superior intelligence.”

“That was only the first half of the meeting.”

“Oh, there’s more?”

“They feel that they have learned enough about baseball to return home and “spread the gospel” shall we say about the game. “

“What does “spread the gospel” entail?

“Well they would like to start a league of their own on their planet and then perhaps take it to other galaxies.”

“Other galaxies? You know I was happy, really happy when I knew that we were the only intelligent life form in the universe. Knowing what I know now, I just lay in bed at night staring up at the ceiling while my mind ponders other life forms hoping that we are not intelligent enough for them to be interested in.”

“Yea, I get that.”

“What are the odds that they will go home soon.”

“Well it depends on what soon is. They are definitely not here for the long haul.”

“That’s good I guess. That means they are probably not interested enough to spend the effort to conquer us. Do you think we should all try harder to be more stupid?”

“I’m not sure that’s possible.”

The Team from Nowhere: Chapter 4 No One is Interested in Average

Monday night had drawn to a close with both coaches in the exact pose they had taken up hours ago. Neither had any spark of an idea on how to handle their nosy reporter. “Well, back at it tomorrow?” asked Coach Stottlemeyer.

“Yes back at it tomorrow,” replied Coach Brown.

The next evening found Coaches Brown and Stottlemeyer once again drinking and thinking. Coach Stottlemeyer had his usual look of concentration. To be fair Coach Brown’s look never seemed to change much. 1.

What had changed beside the day was the location of their meeting. The coaches were on the opposite sides of a bar that Coach Stottlemeyer was tending. Maybe it was the better quality of beer or the change in venue but both men had come up with what each believed to be a good idea when it came to handling the nosy reporter.

“Esperanduh?”

“No, Esperanto with a “to” no “duh,”” replied Coach Brown.

“Well now that I know the pronunciation what is it.”

“It is a language created in the late 19th century for the purpose of becoming a secondary language to be used all over the world”.

“Why”

“The thinking was that if the world could speak the same language, a language that did not originate in any one country, it would bring the world together and they would be able to avoid war.“
The League of Nations actually thought about adopting it as it’s official language.”

“So what happened to it?”

“World War 1 happened and that idea was put on the back burner. Then World War II happened and it became obvious that a march to a common secondary language was never going to end in a world kumbaya moment. Since then, English has become the defacto secondary language and the world is still a dumpster fire.”

“Ok so how does that help us”

“I figure that we could teach the team a few standard sports cliches in Esperanto and a few baseball related conversational phrases. If overheard by a reporter(s) at the game the only idea they could get was the players are not from here and many of them are from the same place. Since no one really speaks it no one will be able to determine the nationalities of any of the players. “

“Won’t that generate more questions we can’t answer,” asked Coach Stottlemeyer.

“Hmm…The look on Coach Brown’s face was probably the same pained look he had when constipation settled in, probably. Ok what’s your idea Einstein?”

“We get them to make mistakes every once in a while. In other words, play badly occasionally. The idea of infallibility will go away and people will start seeing them as average. People aren’t curious about average.”

“That is a good idea,” admitted coach.

“I’m average and nobody is curious about me,” added Coach Stottlemeyer.

“What about your wife and kids?”

“Those are the people I’m talking about”

“So what’s next,” asked Coach Brown.

” I talk to the guys and get them to play less than perfect. To become average.”

“Can I be there when you talk to them?”

“I’d rather you not. I kind of stumbled my way into communicating with them. It wasn’t until I learned some interpretive dance that I really got through to them. I’d rather you not see that.”

“Thanks for the warning. No one should see that.”

The Team from Nowhere: Chapter 3 Point of Origin.

Coach Mickey Brown’s demeanor took a severe hit from knowing that reporters, no correct that, a reporter from the small local paper was starting to ask questions as to the origins of his players. ALL of his players. Normally the question popped up from time to time and was to be expected about a single player every once in a while but never the entire team. Of course it’s not every day an entire team suddenly materializes out of thin air. Not only that but their level of play is so perfect it leads one to think, as stupid as it sounds, that these guys were created just to play baseball.

Mickey knew he should have expected this moment and now that it had arrived it was going to take some creativity to make sure the moment didn’t settle down and develop roots.

Towards that effort he was in his office with a full cooler of ice waiting for Trent to show up and add the beer. His imagination needed fuel.

As if Trent was taking direction from or paying attention to the narrator of this story, he walked in bearing beer.

Mickey could see their problems melting away already. Anyone else would be pulling out a thesaurus and searching for the many forms of the word “denial”.

After the beer was laying snug under a few inches of ice and the promise of a couple frosty ones lay in the not so distant future both men took on the pose of men doing serious thinking. Anyone else would have seen two men staring out into space with a look on their faces that said.
“The last time I saw my car keys they were….”

“What were the exact words the reporter used,” asked Coach Brown.
“He wanted to know the teams point of origin.”
He said the words “point of origin?”
Yes he said “point of origin.”
“Who says things like that?”

“Reporters for small town newspapers apparently,” replied Coach Stotlmeyer. At that moment in time both men crossed their arms in a gesture that said “This could take awhile…”.

To Be Continued…


The Team from Nowhere

They literally came out of nowhere.
Yes, the entire minor league baseball team seemed to have just popped up in a field in the middle of nowhere. At the risk of alienating anyone living anywhere lets just keep the location as the middle of nowhere.

During the preseason, questions without answers hovered over the team like carrion. Once the season started no one seemed to care. These guys were good.

Even to the novice fan these guys seemed special, almost magical. Every steal that was attempted always ended with the perpetrator popping up in his slide firmly planted on the bag. Every bat swung either connected for a hit or a foul. No one seemed to strike out. Well no team is that perfect. They struck out every once in a while but those were lost among the hits and a few walks. But they didn’t strike out enough for anyone to really remember them.

Fans are like that when their team is winning. Winning was not an accurate term to describe what these guys were doing. They were killing it. They were on an unbeaten streak since well, since the start of the season. No fan could think of any losses in the preseason either but then again the fans were just caught up in the novelty of the new team. Nobody could recall their win-loss record in the preseason. The only question was how long could they keep this up? They were bound to have a losing streak.

Coach Mickey Brown wasn’t worried about that. Those worries were small potatoes. He was worried that someone was going to start asking tougher questions. Questions about where exactly did they come from….

Is God a Cubs Fan?

Scene: The Pearly Gates


A Cub fan appears at the front desk .
He is at peace with leaving his mortal coil.
The Cubs won the world series in his lifetime. The fan gets into a conversation with Herbert, St Peter may be playing hooky by now.

“Well my Cubs won it all so I am ok with my time being up.”

I am so glad God could accommodate you.

Yes even those in heaven can be sarcastic.

“So tell me does God follow sports? “

“Oh no he has more important things to do with you know the Universe.

But between you and I he peeks every once in a while.”

“He’s a Cub fan?”

“Well, let’s just say he couldn’t allow human suffering to continue for one more year. 108 was enough.”

“So he roots for them”

“Only in passing.”

“So no guarantee then?”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Consider 2016 a reset.”

So has the big guy “helped” other teams?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“What about Houston or the Cardinals ? He has to have
intervened for the Yankees at least once.”

“ I can’t say much other than there are dark forces in the universe.”

The Fading Ghosts of ’69

The place had emptied. The last hot dog wrapper of 2015 had drifted across the infield and made its exit out into the parking lot. A few wisps of vapor had lingered in the right field bleachers. If one listened closely one could almost hear the vapor speak.

“Same time next year fellas?”

“Yea, the usual.”

“I think next year is the last, next year.”

“What are you giving up?”

“Never, but next year we’ll be satisfied and we’ll move on.”

“Yea, I think you’re right. It feels different this time.”

“I saw that goat leave during the season.”

“Oh really, when?”

“It was just after a walk off win.”

“Which one? We had a bunch.”

“September 28, 2015.”

“The last one, against the Royals?”

“Yea. We didn’t know it then but the goat knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That we just took 2 out of 3 from a team bound for the World Series.”

“Yea but that was before we made the playoffs, before we beat St Louis to move to the NLCS.”

“Yea but at that point the goat knew that was a foregone conclusion and that his time was up.”

“I’m not going to miss that goat.”

“Me either, he stunk.”

“When does spring training start?”

“It’s just around the corner.”

Note: The Author is a lifelong Cub fan and spent the summer of 1969 firmly entrenched in the friendly confines.  They have broken his heart more times than the women in his life. He is still a diehard fan….of both.

The Fading Echoes of ’69

Most of my memories of the summer of 1969 are composed of the sounds of the crack of a bat and the calls of the Wrigley Field venders. I was a seven year old living on the Northwest side of Chicago. Naturally, I was* a Cub fan.

1969 is remembered as the one that got away from the Cubs. They were 9 games up in their division going into September before going on a disastrous road trip.

Some say they should have just thrown away their return tickets and kept on going.

1969 never got away from me. The bus extravaganzas my friends and I took to Wrigley. The contests to see who could eat the most 50 cent pizzas. The beautiful ‘lets play two’ days spent in the bleachers of the friendly confines are events deeply embedded in the joyous memories of my youth.

One by one the heroes of my youth are passing from this world but the joyous memories from that magical summer only gain strength.

The voice of Ron Santo no longer echoes the joy and sorrow of the days game on the radio but my mind continues to replay the image of his heal click celebration of another win.

The gorgeous summer days in Wrigley that inspires ones thoughts to “lets play two” will still occur with regularity but Ernie Banks, the author of that sentiment, will no longer express that desire. My soul however will continue to do just that.

The authors of that wonderful summer in Chicago may pass but the chapter they wrote will continue to contain memories that live in my heart until I too fade into echoes.

My sincere thanks to Ernie and Ron for being a wonderful part of my childhood.

*I only use the term ‘was’ because of grammatical correctness. Outside the realm of grammar the past tense of ‘to be’ does not make sense when paired with any form of the term ‘Cub fan’.