The Coral Gables A's, America's funniest men's league baseball team, recently played in a national tournament. As always, we made it interesting.
Tournaments, along with the playoffs in our men’s league, are the pinnacle of the Coral Gables A’s experience. A’s from around the country fly in to take the field in green and gold once again. Guys put everything they have into each game, especially our pitching staff. This is usually followed by team dinners and vicious fights at the domino table, which spills over into the following day’s games. Don’t make a mistake if you’re Yuca’s partner, our elder statesman and culture-setter. You’ll be hearing about it until midday tomorrow.
These national tournaments bring forth the best of the best in men’s league baseball, and the A’s do their best to give teams hell. We recently played in one, and as always, we made it interesting. Here’s the story of the first part of our tournament: pool play.
Game 1: Can We Lock In or No?
We played a team called the Skyhawks in Game 1. On the mound was a guy named Josh, who came highly recommended but had never pitched with us before. His stuff fit the bill of the pitcher described to us, but he had trouble finding the zone in the first inning. The all-turf mound might have played a role, as this can be a major adjustment for someone used to throwing on dirt. He was leaving most of his pitches up, and after a few walks and one big hit, the inning ended with them up 2-0.
We couldn’t muster up anything on our end in the first. Josh settled in the following inning and breezed through three outs. We got a big hit in the third inning courtesy of Xavier, who goes by X and plays shortstop. He laced a single to right field that brought two runs in, tying the game at two apiece.
Cash
Josh lost the zone again in the third, unfortunately, and a costly error in the field didn’t make things any easier. Apart from a two-run double in the first inning, no one was hitting Josh’s stuff, but to their credit, they were disciplined and did not chase anything up, down, in, or away. Tony Cash, who most people just call Cash, came in to relieve Josh, but much of the damage was done. The inning ended with them up 6-2.
Cash has been an archrival of the Coral Gables A’s for a long, long time. He’s played on teams that have given us fits. He’s managed teams that have given us fits. He himself has given us fits, both with his bat and his pitching arm. Cash has done it all when it comes to men’s league baseball…except play for the A’s.
He can finally cross that off the list after this tournament. Cash finished off the third inning and had no trouble in the fourth. His bread and butter on the mound is late movement. None of his pitches are straight and he has command of all of them. He warned our first baseman to expect ground balls their way when lefties were up. Sure enough, the first two lefties he faced hit weak rollers that way off of cutters that ate up their hands. We still weren’t putting anything together on offense, but Cash was keeping us in the game across three scoreless, stress-free innings.
Alex: The Variety Show
Cash might’ve tweaked something in his arm as he went out for his fourth inning of work. He didn’t think it was overly-serious, but nothing in the elbow area should be messed with. He was replaced by Alex, who is one of our catchers. Before the tournament he notified Nick, our manager, that he also pitched in college, and would be willing to eat a few innings if need be. Well in this case, need be. Alex came in to replace the injured Cash.
Alex did much more than eat innings for us. He silenced their bats in the same way Cash did, throwing three scoreless innings of relief. On our end, though, it just wasn’t working. The wind knocked down any ball we hit in the air, and they did not make errors or walk people. It was just fundamental baseball on their end; our early mistakes were too much to overcome. Some of our guys arrived the day before the tournament started and others drove straight from work on Friday. A 3.5-hour drive isn’t the most ideal way to prep for a game. Whatever the reason was, we didn’t have it in Game 1. Final score: 6-2, them. We put ourselves in a deep hole to climb out of.
The heavens opened up as soon as our first game ended. Our second game was scheduled to start just a half hour after our first, but it had to be suspended due to the rain. We already had a double-header scheduled for the following day, which now became a triple-header. Mercifully, they told us we’d be playing three seven-inning games instead of three nines.
Game 2: Desperation Time
After a disappointing loss to begin our tournament, our backs were very much against the wall. Our second game was against a team called the Reds, who I believe were from somewhere in the Northeast. We had Mike on the bump, though. When Mike is on the bump, that means the A’s are in good shape.
A leadoff single and a bloop hit into right field got them on the board first. 1-0, Reds. An early deficit to deal with. The fate of our tournament hinged on our bats finally coming to life. With one swing in the bottom half of the first, though, in the form of a bases-clearing double off the bat of Nick, we were off the schneid.
Pulling Away
Mike cruised after being given an early lead. He can throw his fastball, change-up, slider, and curveball in any count, and all of them induce swings and misses. Our lead steadily grew, with our next pair of runs coming in the fourth after a two-run double by Luis, who everyone calls Peewee. Apart from Yuca, Peewee is our longest-tenured A. He now lives in central Florida and only plays with us in tournaments, but even in his mid-40s with an unassuming presence at the plate, he can still turn around any fastball he sees.
It was a top-to-bottom effort by our lineup. Mike threw six scoreless after giving up the one run in the first, and we tacked on six more runs after Peewee’s double to complete the ass-whooping. 11-1, final.
On to the next one, this time against a team who, to that point, had not been scored upon.
Game 3: You Flatter Us
Our third game was against a team called the Bulldogz. Yes, with a z. Nick knew a member of their team and was chatting him up before the tournament began, now that he knew we’d be playing them. Their player told Nick that they had a specific starting pitcher ready to face us: a 6’6” Dominican righty who pitched in the Yankees organization. How fun!
Not to toot our own horn, but the Coral Gables A’s are a well-known name in the world of men’s league baseball. This opponent, despite not being from South Florida, clearly knew who we were and decided to have a horse ready to throw against us and us alone. Very flattering. We’ve earned this treatment, I suppose.
The guy who told Nick who we’d be facing was not exaggerating. The pitcher who took the mound was every bit of 6-foot-6 and probably 240+ pounds. He didn’t throw extraordinarily hard: probably sitting 86-88 and mayyyybe touching 90 from time to time. But it got on you quick because of how tall he was. He mixed a two- and four-seam fastball with his change-up and slider and attacked each hitter. No nibbling. Here it is, see if you can hit it.
He cruised through the first inning. We had Aldo, a big lefty, going on our end. He matched him with a scoreless inning of his own. The second inning produced another pair of zeros.
We broke through in the third inning. Alex led the inning off with a single. Yuca followed with another single. Cash worked a walk to load the bases. Ulri, a utility infielder, brought in our first run with yet another single. X smoked a double to put another run on the board, though another runner was thrown out at home. I then hit a sac fly to bring in X, who advanced to third during the play at the plate on his double. It was 3-0, us, at the end of the 3rd inning.
Risking it All
Aldo ran into a bit of trouble in the 4th. After a leadoff double, he lost the strike zone for the next three batters, walking each of them and bringing one run in. The next batter hit a sac fly to make it 3-2. Aldo found his release point again and came up with a big K for the second out. He wasn’t out of the woods yet, however, as there were still two men on and a dangerous hitter coming up.
The hitter smokes a ball up the middle. Aldo can’t get a glove on it, but manages to get a piece of the ball with his calf. It skips away on the ricochet towards the first base line, about halfway between home and first. Aldo bounces off the mound in pursuit of the ball as the hitter charges out of the box. One of the qualities of matter, as we all know, is that of impenetrability. That is, two bodies cannot occupy the same space at the same time. In case anyone at the ballpark was unfamiliar with this law, they received a crash course, no pun intended, on this play.
Aldo, all 6’3” and 230 pounds of him, dives for the ball. The runner, who was similarly-sized, does not hit the brakes. He topples over the fully-extended Aldo, flipping forward onto his back and side. The ball pops out of Aldo’s glove after he gets trampled. Aldo curls up in a heap where the collision occurred, while the runner manages to climb back up and hobble to the bag. The runners on second and third both score during the commotion, making it 4-3, them.
Or does it?
When a ball is put in play, the fielder making a play on the ball is “protected.” That means he has the right of way, no matter where he is in the field, including the running lane from home to first. Only one player gets this treatment per play and which player this is is up to the umpire; the runner has the right of way if he crosses any other player. If the runner impedes the protected fielder in any way, that is interference and the runner is out, while any other runners return to the base they came from.
The hit Aldo absorbed was comparable to something from MLB Slugfest, when you press circle as the fielder tries to tag you out. I’d say he was very much interfered with. The umpires congregated briefly before making the correct call; the batter/runner is out and the runs do not score. There was an argument and some shouting on their end, but to no avail. The inning ended with us still winning, 3-2.
Here Comes Honny Boo Boo
We continued seeing their pitcher well after our three-run 3rd inning, but to his credit, he took things up a notch with men on base. He worked around a walk and a hit to escape the 4th.
Nick had a decision to make in the 5th. Aldo didn’t have enough time to recover from the collision that ended the previous inning and had to come out of the game. We absolutely could not afford to lose. The first option was to put Amed in, an outfielder who is good enough on the mound to eat innings, while the second option was to put in Honny, who was scheduled to start for us the following day. Option one helps us tomorrow, while option two helps us today.
He went with Amed, though he did tell Honny to be ready in case shit hit the fan. Amed didn’t have quite enough time to be fully prepared, since we were figuring this out on the fly. After a leadoff walk followed by a single, Nick made the change to Honny, who we started calling Honny Boo Boo, naturally.
Honny’s job was to minimize the damage. After a fielder’s choice at second advanced the runner to third, a deep sac fly brought that run in. Score now tied at three with a man on second and two down. The hitter stings a ball between third and short, just out of the reach of a diving X. I knew I wasn’t going to get a bad hop, since the field was turf, so I charged hard. I also knew the turf was fast, so if I did have to make a throw home, it would be wise to keep it low and let the ground take care of the rest. Most importantly, though, I knew they would send the runner around third.
Well here goes. It’s me or him. I field it cleanly, go into a crow hop, and uncork one to the plate. The throw is on-line and I keep it low, giving our catcher, Joe, an easy hop to work with. Joe dekes the runner the whole way; he simply stands next to the plate as if there isn’t a throw coming in, before dropping into position to field the throw at the last moment. Did this make the runner pull up a little? Maybe! Either way, the throw is right on the money and he applies the tag to the sliding runner. Fried. Inning ends with the score tied at three.
No Breakthroughs
Their pitcher once again did what he had to do with men on base, stranding Cash, who smoked a double over the left fielder’s head that nearly left the yard, and X, who walked. Honny went 1-2-3 once he got a clean inning to work with. Still 3-3 going as we began the last inning.
That big donkey just kept making big pitch after big pitch. Yuca added another single and Cash walked with one out in the 7th, but he was able to induce a pop-up and strike out with the winning run in scoring position. Honny was again unbothered by their lineup in their half of the inning. There were no extra innings in the opening round of the tournament, so the game finished in a tie, 3-3.
We now sat at 1-1-1, absolutely needing to win the next game and likely needing a little help from other teams to make it to the final four the following day. For the third and final game of the day, we matched up against the Mets, a team from New York.
Game 4: That Which Must Not Be Named
X led off for us in the top of the first and drew a walk. I followed him with a single. Next up was Nick, who had been swinging a good bat to that point, but was still in the midst of his homerless drought, which I detailed in a previous article. It’s been a minute for Nick. Negging him is one of my favorite pastimes, so I have often reminded him of his sudden loss of power throughout this tough stretch. But, alas, all good things must come to an end.
Nick took a hanging curveball and wallopped it for a three-run home run. The video is below.
Manny
Manolo, who goes by Manny, toed the rubber for us. He works wicked fast and goes right after hitters. You shouldn’t turn around if you’re in the field when he’s working. You might miss a pitch. He retired the side in order in the first inning, in what felt like 45 seconds.
A pair of walks and a single by Ulri brought in our fourth run the following inning. Manny once again went three-up, three-down in his inning. 4-0, good guys, after two.
We weren’t able to create any offense in the third or fourth innings, and neither were they. Manny was absolutely cruising, retiring all twelve batters he’d faced to that point. You know what that means, right? What is going on? Yeah, me too. More on this in a second.
We put them away in the fifth. Beginning with Ulri, we got five straight hits to start the inning, bringing in three. Then a pair of errors, another hit, and a passed ball brought in four more. It was now 11-0. The knockout rules of the tournament say the game is over after five if you’re up by 10 or more. We’d complete the win if Manny allowed less than two runs in the bottom of the fifth.
Am I the Villain?
Ok, so hear me out. I play outfield. That means I naturally do not pay as much attention to the game as other players. Infielders always know how many outs there are and what the count on the batter is, for example. Outfielders know this stuff maybe 60% of the time. After the first out of the inning, the situation, the perfect situation that Manny was in, dawns on me. But I wasn’t sure! I decide to ask Juany, our center fielder. I say, “Hey, Juany. Does Manny have…a certain thing going?” He doesn’t understand what I mean, so I elaborate. “You know, the thing. The thing you’re not supposed to talk about?”
X is at shortstop and hears me. He spins around and tells me to shut the fuck up. I shut the fuck up. On the next pitch, the hitter gets jammed and hits a bloop single into center field, just over the glove of X, thus ending Manny’s bid for a perfect game. He was screaming “fuck you” as he was giving chase to the ball. I wanted to run off the field, get in my car, and drive home.
Is this all my fault? Am I the jinx? I never said the words “perfect game,” so I don’t think I can be held accountable for ruining it. Everyone gave me shit for being the worst person ever, but I found out later that Manny was told, out loud, by Yuca, that he had a perfect game going. Right before the start of the fifth inning. He’s the jinx! I’m not the jinx. Fuck that. Yuca is the bad guy.
Anyway, Manny retired the next two hitters to end the inning and the game. 11-0.
Onto the Next One
We made it. After a disappointing loss the day before, we went 2-0-1 in our triple-header and squeaked into the semis the following day. My next article will discuss the rollercoaster ride that was our playoffs.
Sorry, when’s the Netflix series coming out?