The Coral Gables A's went on quite the playoff run in the Florida Invitational. Here's how it went down.
Playoffs?! Don’t talk about playoffs! You kiddin’ me? Playoffs?!
Oh yeah, Jim Mora, we’re talking about playoffs today. The Coral Gables A’s recently played in a national men’s league tournament, and after a tough Game 1 loss, were able to bounce back in pool play in order to advance to the next round. You can find that story here.
After four games in two days, we had one more day and two more victories to secure. Up first was the semifinal matchup against another team from South Florida, the subtly-named Team Travel Miami.
Semifinals: Early and Often
The reason this team had a generic name was because, apparently, they were an amalgamation of different teams from South Florida who came together to play in this tourney. One of them was Suela, our archrivals from back home who didn’t participate for whatever reason. I can’t say I recognized many of the guys on “Team Travel Miami,” but they knew us very well.
On the mound for them was a sinkerballer whose best offspeed pitch was his change-up. The game started at an unfortunate time in the day when the sun was halfway up the sky and right behind centerfield. In other words, it was wicked hard to see when you were hitting and dealing with the glare off the turf. Pitches up in the zone just flat out disappeared. Lucky for us, someone with his repertoire wants to live at the knees.
I hit a single up the middle in the first inning and swiped second and third. Nick hit a groundball in the infield that brought me in. Amed gets hit by a pitch, and is then brought home by a double laced by Juany into the gap. 2-0, A’s.
Honny Time
On the mound for us was, once again, Honny. Although Honny Boo Boo had thrown three innings of relief the day prior, he was given the ball in a win-or-go-home scenario. He excelled against the Bulldogz by inducing soft contact, mixing in his fastball, slider, and forkball (which was disgusting) to generate soft grounders and pop-ups. It was business as usual for him in the first, working around a single for a scoreless inning.
The next four innings whizzed by. Visibility was clearly affecting both teams. There were a lot of ugly swings and no runs to speak of from either side. Honny was giving up his share of hits, but the savvy veteran made his best pitches when he needed to, inducing multiple double plays and not walking anyone. Bend, don’t break. That was the name of his game. It was still 2-0 going into the 6th.
There would be no more escaping for them. With one out and the top of the lineup now up, X hit a single. I followed with another single. Nick doubled. Amed walked. Juany doubled. Joe singled. Six straight one-out hits brought in five runs, then Jorge, a catcher and Alex’s brother, brought in the sixth run of the inning with a ground ball for the second out. We needed to put this game away, and that’s what we did. 8-0, A’s, after the 6th.
The only question mark for us now was how much Honny had left in the tank (pot?). He threw three innings the day before and had worked six innings so far. He told Nick he was feeling the strain, but that he’d give us everything he had. Every inning he threw was followed by a therapy gun going up and down his arm, back and legs in the dugout. He rolled on lacrosse balls. He stretched. He foam rolled. He bounced around on his feet. Whatever he could do to push away the soreness and fatigue that was rapidly gaining on him. Nick would’ve loved to relieve him, but the value of having as much pitching as possible ready for the championship game was too much to ignore, especially with an eight-run cushion. Honny had to keep pushing.
Finishing the Job
He did. With nothing but will power left in the tank, Honny worked three more scoreless innings to complete the shutout, allowing just one hit in that span. That’s 12 innings across two outings in less than 24 hours, for those scoring at home. The Coral Gables A’s have had some inspiring pitching performances in big spots over the years. Honny Boo Boo’s semifinal shutout in the Florida Invitational ranks near the top, at least since I’ve been on the team.
An 8-0 win sent us to the championship game, and who would be waiting for us but the Skyhawks, the team who beat us in the opening game of the tournament. The energy was right:
Championship: Leaving it all Out There
Similar to Honny working back-to-back games for us, we would be sending out Manny, who threw five shutout innings the night prior and allowed only one hit, which I did not jinx him into doing. He would give us everything he could, then we had a mixture of Amed, Alex, Josh, who started against this team two days prior, and me. Time to throw the kitchen sink at them.
On the mound for them as a tall, lanky, athletic lefty. He threw decently hard, probably mid to high-80s, but didn’t have much offspeed other than a slider that was very temperamental. His fastball cut a little bit, which was tough when his slider was working since they both looked the same out of his hand, with the slider being the one that broke more. But you were looking for his fastball.
X led us off with a single. Nick and I followed with two line-outs, continuing the previous trend against this team of hard-hit balls right at people. Amed hit a two-out base hit. There was an issue on the relay throw from the outfield and X, who reached third on the play, took a chance and breaks for home. It took a perfect throw and tag to nab him, but that’s what happened. It was a calculated risk by him, but it didn’t work out for us. Good baseball all around. Manny worked an easy 1-2-3 first inning, mixing in a punch out. Nothing-nothing after the 1st.
Jorge and the ageless Peewee both stung singles in the 2nd inning, but were left stranded. Manny ran into some trouble in the 2nd, and we did little to help him out. A one-out single was followed by an error in the field that could have been an inning-ending double play. The next batter gets hit by a pitch to load the bases, then a bloop single into centerfield brings in two runs. He retires the next two hitters and the inning ends with them up 2-0.
No More Ammo
Manny was starting to show signs of fatigue. After we went silently in our half of the inning, he walked the first batter he faced in the 3rd, then two singles and a walk brought a run in. He escaped without allowing any more damage, but we were digging ourselves in a hole early in the game, down 3-zip.
X led off the 4th inning with a screaming line drive of a double. I followed with a single up the middle that brought him around to score for our first run of the game. We weren’t able to bring any more in, but at least we were off the schneid.
Manny was tapped out after three innings. In came Alex, who threw three scoreless innings against this team in the first game of our tournament. They still couldn’t seem to figure him out, as he fired a scoreless 4th inning.
The big hits still weren’t there for us. The 5th inning began with a hit-by-pitch from Joe, and a pair of one-out singles from Peewee and Alex to load the bases. This was followed promptly by an inning-ending double play on a ball hit hard and directly at the third baseman. The lack of good fortune was maddening, but there was still a lot of baseball to be played. Alex was doing his best to keep us in it, striking out a pair in a scoreless 5th. With his brother, Jorge, behind the plate, we were one step ahead of their hitters.
Breaking Through
The 6th inning didn’t seem like it had much potential for us after two quick outs. Then X reached on an error and I walked. Nick follows with a ground ball to third that the third baseman boots, allowing X to score and moving me to third. Amed then delivered the at bat of the day to that point, fouling off pitch after pitch with two strikes before hitting a ground ball down the third base line that the diving third baseman wasn’t able to corral. I was on third base and had to do a little dodging before I broke for home. The ball was hit directly down the line, and his bat exploded on the swing. With ball and bits of bat hurtling towards me, I jumped backwards and out of the way of everything. I scored as the ball rolled into foul territory after ricocheting off the defender’s glove. The game was tied at the end of our half inning; finally a bit of fortune in our favor. Alex kept dicing up their lineup in the bottom half. 3-3 after six.
Their starter was done after the 6th. Joe led us off in the 7th with a walk. Jorge followed him with a single. Two batters later, Alex helped himself out by delivering the swing of the tournament for us, shooting a base hit to right field that brought in the go-ahead run, a massive at bat by a guy who was simply refusing to let us lose.
Funky Umpiring
Unfortunately, this is the inning the sketchy shit started to go down. With two outs and one man on, Yuca hit a ground ball to the left side. The throw pulled the first baseman off the bag as he reached for the ball. He caught it, then took a step back towards the bag to try to beat Yuca. It was a bang-bang play. The first base umpire, who was standing no more than 20 feet from the bag, calls Yuca safe. He seemed to be in the right position to make the call.
The home plate umpire did not agree, apparently. A conference was called to discuss the outcome of the play. The call was reversed based on the home plate umpire’s view of the play. Call me crazy, but I say being in the first base umpire’s position is better than being roughly 100 feet away, like the home plate umpire was. But I guess not! There didn’t even need to be a conference; the field ump was in the right spot to determine the outcome of the play. Nick argues to no avail. Our inning ends on the reversed call. Alex stays hot with the bat and on the mound in the bottom half of the inning. It’s 4-3, us, after seven.
Nothing doing for us in the top of the 8th. The bottom of the 8th began with a costly error in the infield that got the leadoff man on. Alex got the next two hitters out on a fielder’s choice and a pop-up, and thennnn shit got weird again.
Funky Umpiring, Pt. 2
Their four-hole hitter was up; a big lefty who had done nothing but swing for the fences thus far. There were two down and the tying run on second. A long battle ensued, with the hitter spoiling pitch after pitch and Alex throwing everything he could think of. Finally the hitter got handcuffed by a slider up in the zone. He checked his swing and Jorge caught the pitch cleanly. I was in the outfield in this moment, so I can't really offer an opinion on this matter. However, Jorge, who caught the ball, Alex, who threw the ball, and Joe, who was playing third and was the closest defender to the action, all reacted as if the hitter fouled the pitch into the catcher’s glove. As in, it’s a strikeout. You hear a distinct tick-pop in these instances as the ball knicks the bat and lands in the mitt. I didn’t hear it. I was 300 feet away. But for three of our players to instantly react as if there was contact with the bat makes for a compelling case that this was, in fact, a foul tip into the glove. Strike three.
Guess who didn’t hear it? The home plate umpire. The same guy who provided a deus ex machina for the other team an inning prior by overruling the first base umpire on a play at first base. He heard nothing, it would seem. He called it a ball, despite basically our entire team being up in arms. Perhaps he should have called a conference to ask for help, regardless of if he was the closest person to the play. That’s how it works, right?
The count went to full instead of us being out of the inning on the strikeout. Naturally, the batter hit the next pitch off the end of the bat and blooped it into centerfield, scoring the runner from second to tie the game. Alex got the last out before allowing any more runs. It was all knotted up at four, heading into the 9th.
A single was spoiled by two line drive outs and a strikeout to end the top of the 9th. After pitching three innings the first day of the tournament, catching on the second day, and throwing five more innings today, Alex was on empty. He gave us every bit he had. Him and Honny were our co-MVPs; putting your body on the line for the sake of competition, and having fun while doing it, is what it means to be a Coral Gables A.
I came in to replace Alex.
Bottom of the 9th
My outings last one inning normally. I come in, throw relatively hard with relatively good control, and get three outs. This situation was different, however. Since we were the away team, I knew I’d have to throw multiple innings if we were to win the game, assuming someone didn’t come in to relieve me. I also saw that Alex had dominated their lineup with location and deception, as opposed to velocity. I’d yet to see them hit a fastball hard; I’d yet to see them hit much of anything hard. I decided, based on these factors, that I’d leave a little in the tank and not throw A+ fastballs unless I needed to.
Sure enough, the leadoff hitter took a fastball and lined it up the middle. First fastball I’d seen them turn around like that in the 18 innings we’d played against them to that point. The winning run was on first base.
I expected the next batter, a slap-hitting lefty with good speed, to bunt. He did not. Instead, he was out in front on a change-up and hit a ground ball back to me. I fielded it cleanly, turned and threw to second, but my throw was horseshit. X reached down and snagged it, but the throw didn’t allow him to attempt the double play. It would be a fielder’s choice instead. One out and a man on first.
Their next batter was one of their dangerous ones. With no balls and one strike, I choked a change-up and threw it into the dirt, allowing the runner on first to advance. First base was open. Nick asked me from the dugout about intentionally walking the batter. This would keep the double play in order in case the next guy hit a ground ball. The runner on second was the winning run and the only one that mattered anyway. I hesitated due to their being one strike on the hitter already, but I deferred to his judgment. We walked him.
The One I Needed
The next batter was another slappy lefty, this one with no speed. I bounced another change-up that Jorge blocked. That pitch was escaping me, but I was confident I could just blow him away.
He must have spoiled five straight two-strike fastballs. Literally standing there and poking the pitch foul as it was crossing the plate. I wasn’t going to take a chance on a slider or change-up that I didn’t have a feel for at that moment, for it might result in another wild pitch. I had to stay with the heat and wear him out. I threw another fastball, probably the 10th pitch in the at bat or so, and he took it.
There’s not much I can say about this pitch. It was the best one I threw. Jorge set up on the outside corner and it split the target. The mitt popped. He stuck the location. I have no idea how or why the hitter didn’t swing. It seemed to be the perfect pitch spotted at the low and outside corner.
Ball four.
I was irate. Everyone on our side was irate. That should have been two outs. That pitch has been a strike for 150 fucking years. Instead the bases were now loaded.
The winning run was 90 feet away. The next hitter jumped on the first pitch and hit a ground ball in the hole between short and third. X ranged to his right, got a glove on it and stopped it, but the ball popped out briefly. The runner on third scored before he was able to bring it in and make a throw to the plate.
Game over. 5-4.
The Agony of Defeat
I admitted this to the team in our group chat after the game, and whatever, I’ll admit it here too. The last time I cried about a baseball game was high school, after we lost in the playoffs my senior year. I shed tears about this baseball game as well.
There was a lot of build-up that led to this emotional upheaval. Seeing Honny and Alex throw caution to the wind in pursuit of a victory. Watching guys like Yuca, Peewee, and Ulri turn back the clock the entire tournament, or Cash, Manny, and Honny fighting through injuries and fatigue to continue producing for us. Aldo absorbing that collision down the first base line while chasing a key out. All of us dealing with excruciating heat on all-turf fields while playing six games in three days. The fact that we also lost the championship in the last tournament we played, 1-0 in 11 innings. Or the fact that we lost the championship in the tournament before that also, 9-8. All of the winning runs came in the final inning. I was the one on the mound for the 1-0 loss as well. It's been a 1990s Buffalo Bills-type run for us.
So yeah. A few tears fell once I sat in the dugout and threw a towel over my head. This is just dumb men’s league baseball, played by a bunch of has-beens who still like competing and are drawn to the camaraderie borne from playing sports. But damn, man. Playing on this team means something to people, or else we wouldn’t try so freaking hard for so freaking long. To come so close yet again, and playing a role in it myself, sucks something awful.
The home plate umpire didn’t help. Like, he reallyyy did not help. Three pivotal calls in the last three innings went decidedly their way, which just throws salt on the wound. But regardless, they did what they had to do and we didn’t. If you leave the fate of the game up to some asshole ump, you’re asking for trouble. We scored six runs in 18 innings against them. Not good enough.
More to Come!
There you have it. The Coral Gables A’s finished the Florida Invitational in second place, going 3-2-1 overall. There were some dynamite performances and a ton of memories made. Win, lose, or draw, the Coral Gables A’s always make it interesting, and this tournament was further proof of that. We head home with a new men’s league season ready to start, and yet more motivation as we wait for our next national tournament (probably sometime early next year).
I’m proud to be a Coral Gables A. Baseball can be a cruel game and the baseball gods are fickle beasts. But things will turn around. The A’s will reach the mountaintop once again.
(And we’ll be insufferable when that day finally arrives)
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