Joe Takes the Mound

Monday night, Joe made his long awaited and much anticipated - by him, anyway, pitching debut.

Last season, in WNSL's Rookie League (aka "machine pitch"), the boys hit off a spring loaded machine.  All season, Joe was chomping at the bit to pitch, saying over and over again, "I can't wait for kid pitch baseball!"  

This season, my friend, Oliver Davis, and I decided to some of the boys up to the Minor League (aka "kid pitch").  Joe had to move up, because he was nine years old.  Oliver's son, Preston, and some of the others could have played another season of machine pitch baseball but, in truth, there wasn't much to be learned at that level and the boys were ready to see a pitched ball in games.  

It's worked out great - and this is an entirely different story - because our Diamondbacks' team has six of my old Junior Dodgers.  It's been great, so great, to be back out on the field with Trey, Bennett, Nico, George, Ram, and, of course, Joe.  Combined with our Diamondbacks' boys, it's a special group of boys and families.  I'm looking forward to the next several years together if all goes according to plan, as I hope it will.

I had a trial starting Monday and our game was set for 5:15 p.m., so I was worried about getting there and on the field quickly enough to watch Joe pitch.  At the beginning of my trial, I asked the judge if we could finish early, since we were set for two days, anyway, so I could get to the baseball game.  Mike Binkley, a family man and a lawyers' judge for sure, was kind enough to accommodate me, which really meant a lot.    

I got to the game just after Joe's Diamondbacks had batted in the first inning.  Batting in the three hole, Joe walked and later scored.  Trey pitched the first inning and did surprisingly well.  

While our boys were batting in the top of the second inning, J.P. and Joe walked down the right field foul line, so J.P. could warm Joe up.  That, in an of itself, was a cool moment.  Joe throwing to J.P. before his (Joe's) big moment.

What's also cool is that J.P. has been working with Joe every afternoon, practicing his pitching.  I got them out in the backyard one day, showed J.P. what I wanted, and he quite literally took it from there.  There's a singularity to  watching J.P. sitting on the bucket of balls in the backyard, wearing the catcher's mitt, quietly encouraging Joe as he throws pitch after pitch to him.  To me, it encapsulates everything I want their relationship to be, as brothers.  

It's a closeness, a commonality.  A shared love of competition, a desire to get better, and a love of baseball.  I could watch them together like that forever.  

So, Joe walks out to the pitcher's mound on field #3 at Warner Park to start the bottom of the second inning.  I was curious - not nervous - to see how he would do.  There's no fear in Joe, not ever in any situation.  He's got a lack of self-awareness and he's a natural leader with the charisma that makes other kids want to follow him.  I'm not sure you can teach that or instill that in a boy.  I think, perhaps, he has it or he doesn't it. 

Joe was ready.  

How did he do?  10 pitches, 9 strikes, 3 strikeouts.  And the one ball was really a strike, because the umpire squeezed him just a bit on a pitch that hit the outside corner of home plate.  He looked comfortable, in control, and in command.  I was really, really proud of him, mostly because he's worked pretty hard at it and, as always hard work pays off.

After the third strikeout, Joe trotted excitedly off the mound to the first base dugout, where Oliver was waiting to address the team.  Joe was grinning from ear to ear.  

A pitcher always walks to the dugout when he punches a guy out to end the inning, of course.  He doesn't trot, but we'll work on that.  It's more intimidating to walk slowly off the mound.  J.P. has mastered the slow walk to the dugout, hat pulled down low, after striking out the last batter of the inning.    

I walked over to the backstop and motioned J.P. to come talk to me.  He got up, walked over, and we were face to face on opposite sides of the backstop.  I started to talk, my voice caught for just a moment as I teared up, and I turned away for a second.  

Collecting myself, I turned back to him, and said, "what your brother just did was all you, not me.  Remember this moment."

J.P. walked over to the dugout and congratulated Joe.  I turned away and looked out at the baseball field as our boys - the Diamondbacks - prepared to bat.

I was happy, content, and really, really proud.  Of both of my sons.