Playing stand-up

Friday, July 16, 2010

I was stopping to pick up Don so we could head for the Metroparks and a hike. We were going to a barbeque afterwards…a gathering of the Thursday night running group, but Don’s achilles was sore and he couldn’t run. I figured it was a good chance to strap on the pack for more climbing. He’d limp along.

When I arrived at his house, he sprung the trap.

“Hey…Zack’s headed over. Time for a game of ‘Splinter’ and a rematch of ‘Stand-up’ before we hike?” he asked.

“Hell yeah,” I said, knowing there would be no hiking tonight. I’d already done my run, so that was okay.

Zack arrived, we grabbed Colby and walked through the stockade fence to Alexander Field. Don looked across the field to the parking lot beyond the bleachers and let out a groan when he saw cars…and kids in baseball uniforms piling out.

“Little league baseball. Rats. No ‘Splinter’, we could hit those cars,” he said. “Looks like its ‘stand-up’ rematch time, boys.”

You can’t always have 18 people to play baseball and for as long as the game has been played, people have been making adaptations to fit the number of available players. ‘Stand-up’ is a version that, with only four players, allows the game to go on. The rules are pretty simple. The football field is the diamond, with the 50-yard line in the middle of the field as home plate. There are no bases to run... invisible runner routine. If you hit one through the goal posts – automatic homer…as is anything over the fence behind the goal post and the track beyond. Bounce it out and you have a double. A single is anything that rolls in fair territory and comes to a stop before one of the opposing fielders can pick it up. You also have to call your field – to the right or left of the goal post. Hit it to the wrong field and you’re out. The team up has three outs.

Don was pitching because he said his achilles was too sore to run…which meant I’d be running my ass off. They’d beaten us pretty badly in our first go-around three weeks ago and today started out pretty much the same way. It was 7-0 by the end of their half of the first inning. It’s a three-inning game, so we were in deep do-do.

Zack was pitching…if you could call it that. He seemed to know that the objective was to throw the ball in the general direction of the hitter, but seemed clueless as to which side of the hitter it should go. The fact that I was holding a bat, pointing down at home plate, and standing there right-handed seemed to matter very little. You don’t get to take your base if he hits you or we’d have gotten our runs back pretty quickly. He blamed his lack of control on the fact that he didn’t have a glove for a lefty, which is what he was. I was missing the connection between the use of the glove and the location he threw the ball, but…well…he seemed to understand.

We scored three times and headed back to the field. Don shut them down without a run and so we entered the bottom of the second trailing 7-3. I stepped to the plate with a runner on base and after dodging a couple of Zack’s deliveries, finally saw one over the dish. I swung hard, hit it perfectly and knew it was going a long, long way.

“Forget about it Colby, we’ll get it later,” Don said while giving me a ‘high five’ for the two-run jack. We scored a couple of more to tie the game and then Don stepped to the plate with two outs.

“How about if I hit this one through the goal posts to take the lead,” he said.

Zack put his next delivery over the heart of the plate and Don met it squarely. It couldn’t have been any better…dead center through the uprights…and our first lead ever. I made the third out and we headed back to the field. Once there, I began singing ‘Wild Thing’ as Don attempted to save the game. Three outs from victory. And it was just that easy…like Jose Mesa in 1997. Three up…three down and we had won.

Now…I know how much Colby hates to lose (show me a good loser and I'll show you a loser), so I kept my trash talking to a minimum. He realized that he’d just lost to a couple of guys whose total years on the planet exceeded 110. Baseball is more than a game of youth, speed and power though. Sometimes…just sometimes…it pays to be sneaky, underhanded, and willing to do whatever it takes to get in someone’s head…and Don and I know all about that stuff.

So… maybe not a true workout, though I did sweat up a storm. The important thing was that we could and wanted…to play at all. It’s this kind of stuff…being ready to do whatever…that I think will continue to help keep me in shape. Just say ‘yes’ when someone wants to play…or better yet…figure out something to play and invite others to join you.

Bike duration: 85 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 125.
Calories burned during workout: 1275.