Ode to Cooperstown Dreams Park - Part One

It's one of the highlights in our seaside town when it comes to youth sports - really youth anything - when you turn 12 years old and you are halfway decent at baseball, you will be able to represent our town at the Annual Cooperstown Dreams Park Tournament.  A baseball tournament featuring over 100 teams vying for the chance to play a championship game at Little Majors ballpark and lay claim to being one of the best baseball teams in the Country.  This baseball tournament repeats itself every week from Memorial Day to Labor Day.  Hundreds of teams and thousands of kids play at the 22 fields all Summer, every Summer.  I think, I know, that this tournament keeps this area in business a lot more than the Baseball Hall of Fame 8 miles up the street does.

Our week begins on Friday of July 4th weekend as the kids and coaches start filing into town.  They all have hopes and dreams of playing on Thursday (the final 16 make it to Thursday playoff games).  Some are realistic, some - like our little town - are unrealistic.  Usually, for those first couple of days, the kids would gather to play wiffle ball or trade pins with other teams.  They would eat lasagna and sloppy joes and would talk about things that normal 12 year olds would talk about.  They would compare best pitchers and best hitters.  And they would talk about those stupidly expensive Mako bats.  Except for team from Wayland (about 45 minutes from us on a good day), no other team from New England made it here this weekend.  It's a crap shoot who you are going to play.

Saturday.  Opening Ceremonies.  A lot of marching around with banners.  We entered players into the HR hitting contest, a speed contest called Roadrunner and a pitching contest called the Golden Arm.  No advancement to the championship round from any of our single players.  On the other hand, we were just a second behind in the star drill however with the rest of the team.  Pins were traded, players went home happy.

First Night Game; C playing 1st Base

Sunday.  The games begin.  Because G had his own tournament on Cape Cod, we could not make it for the afternoon game.  The Manager graciously sat C for the afternoon game (everyone has to sit at least one game), which we lost to some regional AAU team from St. Louis, 14-2.  We won the night cap though led by some timely hitting (including a home run to break the 3-3 tie) and a complete game 2 hitter from one of C's buddies.  Come to find out, the team that we played from Elmhurst, Illinois was bunked right next door in the barracks.  The teams became fast friends throughout the tournament, watching each others' games and cheering each other on.  Although LC was livid that a kid pretended to make a catch right in front of us in right field and did not own up to it after the umpire called out hitter out, I guess the kids got over it pretty quickly.  

Monday.  We got beaten up pretty good by a regional team from outside of Baltimore, Maryland, the WHC Renegades.  32-0.  I have already forgotten the details of this game, except that I was thankful for the mercy rule.  The next game was a barn burner, though.  Due to heavy rains and thunderstorms, C's pitching debut was delayed from 7pm to 12:30am the next morning.  We spent time chatting with other parents and players, biding our time for the ridiculous weather to die down.  We were all a little sleepy during that game.  Undaunted by the change in starting time though, C pitched a 3 hitter with 12 strike outs to win the game 13-2.  We are now 2-2 in pool play!

C's Grand Slam Ball

Tuesday.  Even though the team didn't step out off the field until 2:30 this morning, they were back at it for the 10am game against the Mississagua Tigers, a team from just outside of Toronto.  Although they were also much larger than our seaside town, we took it their pitching early, highlighted by 3 home runs from C - including a grand slam.  Now granted, we screwed up the time of the start and missed C's 1st inning grand slam by about 5 minutes.  But we were able to catch the other two home runs.  I have to admit that I was starting to think about the Cooperstown tournament's record for most home runs in a game, which is 5.  Alas, the Manager took C out after three at-bats and he ended the game with 3 home runs and 7 RBIs.  This didn't stop C from becoming a legend as there was a buzz around the field about the "kid that hit the 3 home runs."  What a great hitting performance!  I was so proud of him.  Not only that, but we took the game over the Saugans, 15-13.  They'll probably say that they are a hockey town anyway.  The second game was not as gentle as we lost to a regional team from Central Florida, 15-4.  We ended up pool play 3-3.  One of the best showings ever from the team.

Wednesday.  The playoffs begin.  Since we were seeded 56th, we got a first round bye.  Our first game was against a team seeded 94th from New Jersey.  We handled them pretty easily, 9-3 as C went 2 for 3 and played great first base.  The second game was not pretty.  C was the starting pitcher against a team from Plainfield, Illinois.  A lot of runs were scored.  Another game that I am choosing to forget.  We ended up losing 15-3.  Although, the pats on the back were disheartening, we ended up going to friend's rented house where most of the rest of the team was.  They ended up swimming and laughing, the last loss becoming a distant memory.

Overall, what a great experience for the boys and for us as well.  The boys played great. C, who has played AAU baseball in tough conditions before really shined, leading the team in home runs while also winning one of our games for us at Pitcher.  It was a real treat to see.  And to see the look on his face after the tournament was over...Never mind the fact that he bought a baseball case almost immediately from the gift shop for the home run ball that we had inscribed.  I loved seeing the proud look on his face.   

One last thing.  I told C that his 3 home run game would be something that he would remember for the rest of his life.  What I really meant is that it is something that I would remember for the rest of my life.

The AVP is Still Around in 2014?

Time to go Darren Rovell on you.  I was just flipping channels recently and came across something that I thought had ceased to exist as of a couple of years ago.  I'm not sure why it never caught on; because beach volleyball was always a big draw during the Olympics, but it never caught on between the Summer Olympics.  The party atmosphere had to attract affluent 20 somethings with money to spend.  The athleticism and sex appeal had to draw in both men and women, alike.  It would seem to me that this a is recipe of success for edgy and enterprising companies.  And some well intentioned capitalists took advantage securing some sponsors, finding a TV contract and attracting the best volleyball players in the world.  After years and mergers, the AVP was born. 

In fact, it was just a couple of years ago (it seemed at least) that the AVP made a stop in Quincy at Marina Bay.  We were thinking about going since it always looked like a big party and Marina Bay was 20 minutes away from us.  What's not to love about that - drinks, men and women in bathing suits playing volleyball, and a raucous atmosphere, just 20 minutes from the house?  Alas, it was way too hot for the kids (DLG was just a baby, I remember) when we decided to go.  AVP would have to wait until next year.  That plus I really did not want to wear a pair of Crocs out in public.

Shortly after that, I watched Beach Volleyball once in a while on TV.  It was amusing to watch and I still like the raucous attitude that.  Maybe we could go the following year.

And I kept my promise.  Just a couple of years ago, I checked to see if the AVP was coming back to Marina Bay and discovered that the AVP had gone under.  Just like other fringe sports that sought to capitalize on Summer Olympic glory for the Americans, mainstream beach volleyball just could not secure the crowds or the corporate sponsorships to survive.  I have to admit that I didn't understand.

So I forgot about it.

Until tonight.  Flipping channels, I see that the AVP had magically reappeared on the CBS Sports Network.  What I was watching was the St. Petersburg Open that was featuring a couple of stars from the 2012 Summer Olympics.  Kerri Walsh-Jennings and April Ross, who both won medals for the USA back in 2012 were playing a couple of other women who I had never heard of.  And of course, I looked at the AVP website and found that this was a recent tournament, not some sort of ESPN Classic sport.  It got me thinking how this league could be sustained.

First, seek corporate sponsors that fit in with sport.  Hey I get that the AVP wants us to worry about being healthy, but a sport played on a beach begs for alcoholic sponsors.  Bud Light, Michelob Ultra and Smirnoff Ice make a lot of sense.  Energy drinks, water enhancers and water sports make sense here too.  Paul Mitchell does NOT make a lot of sense.

Second, market the players better.  I'll stay away from the obvious way to capitalize on the sport.  But Kerry Walsh-Jennings and Misty May could do a lot more to be ambassadors of the sport.  More marketing of international championships might make this a little more exciting by bringing in some nationalism.

Finally, look to barnstorm a little more.  During the Summer, the AVP can play anywhere in the U.S.  During the Winter, play in Hawaii, Florida and Southern California.  Reduce ticket prices a little bit but offer higher priced concessions.  Look to bring in more people, rather than overcharging the fans who do want to come in.  And these players are looking to stay fresh for the Olympics so prize money may be reduced with little in the way of resistance.

Before you know it, we'll be back to Marina Bay.

Dominic Moore's Cautionary Tale Speaks Volumes

This goes a little differently than usual.  I don't write about hockey that often, but Dominic Moore's story made me sharpen the pencil again to discuss it.

It's really not a story about hockey, mind you.  And it took a strange post in Boston Barstool Sports to make me write about this in the first place.  Thinking it was just click bait, I decided to click on a story that made one of the writers of that site admit that it was the "Saddest Thing I Had Ever Seen In My Life."  Who wouldn't want to read or watch that?  Especially on a Sunday morning when I was just sitting on my couch watching the morning come and go. 

It turned out that that writer was right.  The segment about Dominic Moore's leave of absence from the NHL to tend to his sick wife is one of the saddest things I have ever watched in my life.  But it might also be one of the kindest.

The piece, which aired on ESPN's E:60 program a couple of weeks back, tells the crushing story of Dominic Moore, a journeyman center who had been toiling away in the NHL for over 10 years, and his wife, Katie Moore.  The lede to the story begins with one of Moore's teammates talking about Moore's come back after he had to take care of "something."  Then we saw pictures of Moore playing hockey spliced together with pictures of presumably his wife.  Immediately, I knew that this one was not going to be an easy one to watch. 

The story begins by taking us through the Moores' meeting at Harvard University, traveling to play in various NHL cities and their eventual marriage in 2010ish.  They bought a home in Cambridge, they were talking about starting a family, everything seemed right.  Unexpectedly, during San Jose's play off run in 2012, Katie Moore was diagnosed with a rare and incurable form of liver cancer just days after complaining about feeling ill.  Moore abruptly left the team to care for his wife leaving the playoffs to the side.  The story then takes us through Moore's diagnosis, and the procedures done to prolong her life and, sadly, her eventual death just 8 months later.  To see the metamorphosis of Katie from a beautiful woman to a frail shell of herself in just 8 months is tragic.  The scene where they walk into their Cambridge condominium after friends had finished the work that the Moores had started was poignant and saddening.  Dominic Moore skipped the strike-shortened 2012-13 season to deal with his tragic loss.  But the story comes around to tell of Moore's reemergence with the New York Rangers this year.

But why write about it?  It's a terrible story, and although Moore emerges to play hockey again, start a foundation in his wife's memory and generally move forward in a positive way, its an awful story that I hope no one has to go through.  But this story, to me at least, is a cautionary tale about how life sometimes gets in the way of itself.  And more importantly how one can try to make sure that it doesn't get in the way.

What the Hell does that mean?  It's easy to take a lot of things in your life for granted.  It manifests itself in a number of ways.  You count the days until the weekend or the Summer.  You come home from school or work and you think you're too tired to do anything but sit on that God damned couch.  You watch as the days pass you by, thinking that there will be plenty more of them.  The problem is that that might not always be the case.  For me, it takes a story of some hockey player and his wife, to remember that life is filled with changes, all that needs to be explored.  For you it might be something else.  It doesn't matter, so long as you find it.

Maybe "cautionary tale" is bad term to use.  Maybe "wake up call" is better.  The point is that all of our lives are short, some more than others.  And if we always worry about the small stuff, the big stuff slips right by us.  We all need to try to relish every second that we have.  It's not easy, and neither is life.  That's what Dominic and Katie Moore's story means to me.

Oh and one more thing, I think I'll root for the Rangers this year.

Kazoo Guy is Still at Fenway Park!

I don't sit in the Bleachers that often when I visit Fenway Park, anymore.  Nowadays, I go with the kids who are always looking for foul balls or autographs.  And I need to be able to see the game with my terrible eyesight.  These two ingredients do not lend themselves to an evening in the bleachers.  Back when I was in school, my buddies and I would always scam seats in the bleachers.  Back then, the tickets were cheap and the beer was plentiful.  When the Red Sox came back to play after the 1995 strike, the ownership group even sliced the ticket prices in half for those bleacher seats.  We went every chance that we got back then. 

But then jobs, wives and kids made going to Fenway an annual tradition, instead of a weekly tradition and my time spent near the Williams Red Seat dropped considerably.  The last time I was in the bleachers, in fact was about 5-6 years ago when I went with a couple of friends of mine to see the Sox play...the Angels, I think.

But never mind those details.  One thing that I vaguely remember about those seats in the bleachers was the sight of this guy with a Kazoo always trying to get the Red Sox - and us bleacher bums - to rally.  If the Red Sox got a couple of guys on base, the Kazoo guy would stand up and play his Kazoo proudly.  I thought it was amusing and made a mental note to revisit this guy the next time I was in the Bleachers for a game.

Boston, MA.  6pm.  Lo and behold, that next time was last night.  A couple of friends of mine invited me to the game against the Rangers.  No work, no spouse and no children to be found.  Just a couple of old friends and some ice cold beers (well somewhat cold beers, we're at Fenway after all).  And by luck, our seats were about 14 or 15 rows behind the Visitor's bullpen.  The weather was a little off, so the question became whether we would see the "Kazoo Guy" this time around.  I even made a crack about it to my friends.  My memory of that last game here was not of the score or even the team the Red Sox played, it was of this guy who played a Kazoo with red socks pinned to his hat.

It was a long time ago that I saw this guy at Fenway. And I don't remember exactly where I was sitting that day all those years ago.  So I thought it would be pretty funny if he was still here trying to rally the (often drunk) troops. I told my friends to keep an ear and eye out.  It would make for a good laugh.

As we sat down in our seats, I thought about a lot of things, one of which was that I would have to wait for a rally to start to see if this guy still came to the games.  After about 10 minutes, I found out that I would not have to wait for that rally to start after all.  Unless there was a Red Sox player with the last name of "Kazoo" who had his jersey purchased by this older gentlemen, I think I found the right guy when he sat down.  He was sitting about 2 rows ahead of us. I deftly pointed out to my friends that this guy was still here and we had that good laugh.  I even snapped the picture above (pretending to take a picture of the field, of course).

During the couple of times that the Red Sox were rallying (they were down most of the game), there he was doing his duty, Just like a fife and drum before the scene of a battle, the Kazoo Guy stood up on his seat, played Garry Glitter's "Rock and Roll (Part 1) on his kazoo, rallied the nearby fans with a couple of shouts of "Hey" and then pointed at the security guard near our section, ostensibly to thank him for not making him sit down.  It was perfectly short and left us wanting more.  He went on to do this a couple of more times.  To no avail it turned out as the Red Sox lost 10-7. 

And we had a couple of more laughs.  I'm going to have to take the kids here next time.  Foul balls and eye sight be damned.

Harlem Globetrotters 2014 - Where is Special K?

Welcome back Trotters' fans!  Here we are again for the fifth installment of the JMR Harlem Globetrotters blog!  See, every year since 2010, the family and I have witnessed the glory that is the Harlem Globetrotters.  Now originally, we went to the Globetrotters because we had nothing else to do on Spring weekends between basketball and baseball.  We were looking to just pass the time.  After having been entertained by the dunkers, the ball handlers and the showmen every year since, this is a destination now for the JMR family. Not a way to pass the time, it is now the highlight of the early Spring season.

My kids are frontrunners too, and not surprisingly, the Globetrotters are undefeated in the five games we have seen.  C knows what the real deal is, but G and DLG think that they are honest to goodness good luck charms.  They don't ask me who I think is going to win anymore, the only question the boys asked me on the way in was whether we would see Special K or Big Easy - their favorites from the last two games we went to.  Mom and DLG were mostly disinterested observers.

Because of our schedules this year, we had to see the Saturday night game.  While not ideal with the kids, we thought that we would see the best that the Globetrotters had to offer.  The anticipation was building as we took our seats.

Boston, MA 7:30pm.  As the Global All-Stars came out to warm up, I was struck by how ragged they looked.  Usually these guys can play ball and then they have to let up to let the Globetrotters win at the end of the game (err, I mean they run out of gas as the game wears on).  But this team could not shoot.  Basketball clanged off rim after rim.  They were stretching like old men on a Sunday morning shoot around.  Jesus, it looked like they just picked 8 guys up from Causeway Street to play tonight.

The boys didn't care though because we weren't there to see them play, we were there for the Globetrotters.  As they were introduced, we all noticed that there was no Special K, and no Big Easy.  I was unsure who the Showman was going to be.  I went to the Globetrotters' Website to see if I could tell from the roster who the Showman was going to be.  I couldn't tell from the website either.  All I know is that G was disappointed though that neither Big Easy nor Special K would be there.

"But they were soooo funny, Dad!" G reminisced.

New blood is good for everyone though, I thought to myself as we sat down to watch the game.

A couple of thoughts about the game.

• Hi-Lite was the Showman this year, it turned out.  I remember him as one of the featured players a couple of years ago so obviously they promote from within, just like State Street. 

• Little Globie looked especially creepy this year.  I'm unsure if they created a new mascot or if I had never noticed him before, but man, does he need a makeover.

• Big Globie was a hit, as usual.  I still crack up when he falls down to that Chumbwamba song, "I Get Knocked Down."

• They had some different twists on the changes to the game.  No more penalty box, but they had the "Trick Shot Challenge" (Funny, none of the All Stars were asked to make a trick shot, just the Globetrotters), wear the orange shirt and make double the points, and a spin on the make it take it game where missed shots resulted in the player being sent to the bench.

• The Trick shots involving the foot dunk was impressive.

• The four point shot never gets old.  No one can make them despite the fact that the shots are never defended.

• The instant replay trick was impressive.  I liked the touch of substituting the basketball with a beach ball so it looked like the ball was going in slow motion as well.

Needless to say, the Globetrotters won going away.  86-70.  And as with every year, I have to talk the three kids from buying a basketball, program or jersey. And I have to tell them that we cannot see them again until next year.  The kids tucked that information away until next March when we do this all over again.  And I wouldn't have it any other way.