I don’t even know how this shit started……but it’s something we started doing in ’92. All I know is that it REALLY pissed off the other team. And here at Verdugo…when we sense you don’t like something…we take that as a DIRECT CUE to just keep on doing it! I will let you former players out there explain to our viewing audience what all this “Quick!!!………Pantherlike” shit was all about. Please remember guys that when explaining it…there was a TIMING element that came into play. We would say “Quick” after one event…and “Pantherlike” after another event. I must say…..when you’re managing a team and you hear guys on the field and on the bench saying this shit…you just KNOW everything is going to be okay!!! Then our guys started changing it up a little bit depending on the situation. They’d maybe say……”SLOW!!!…SLOTHLIKE!!!”…whatever we could do to get in someone’s head(s). I must say I am laughing as I write this……….in fact, I’m going into the backyard right now and say “Quick!!!!!!………Pantherlike!!!!” And after our guys explain to you what this great shit is….I’m sure you will too!!!!!!!!!!
Archive for February, 2011
This marks the first time I’ve seen our stats looking clean on a spreadsheet. I always used to keep them on legal paper, with all of the entries made with a pencil. As soon as the game was over, I’d go home and take the information from the scorebook, erase the entries and pencil in the new totals. I had a computer back in 1990….but there was just something COOL to me about the whole pencil and eraser thing. After I was done, I’d call the L.A. Times and phone in all of the new stats. I did a good job of keeping up on all of that and enjoyed doing it.
I will post the pitching stats for ’92 as well later this week. Don’t worry…all of the stats for every season will be posted at some time, and eventually I will calculate career stats and other All-Time records. I have had a lot of fun the past week going over all of the scorebooks. Just going over them has given me lots of ideas for other story-lines of Verdugo lore. But there is something special about the stats on this page. This was our breakthrough season and some of the numbers I am seeing here are just staggering to me. There were plenty of coaches around the League who would “pad” the stats for their players in order to get some extra attention from the scouts. I never did that. All of your stats are REAL. And I made sure the L.A. Times and Daily News sportwriters knew this. If someone hit a ground ball to the shortstop and he blew the play I didn’t give you a base hit for it, like a lot of the other coaches around the league did. Nope…our numbers don’t lie……and to the guys on the ’92 team I tip my cap to all of you…….even the rookies……..
absolutely incredible!!!
Proof that “They Burned Their Bodies”……..
Posted: February 21, 2011 in 1992, BullOxen, Hank, No Way!, Turner, WeaponWe’ve had close to 500 hits on this blog already. So it’s becoming obvious that there are some people out there reading this shit every day who had nothing to do with this team and don’t know who the hell we are. They are clearly reading this brilliant shit strictly for entertainment purposes. For those of you who are doing so…we thank you. And we agree that there is some pretty funny shit on this blog!! We also urge you to write in to us here at Verdugo Headquarters and remind us of how brilliant we are!! (as if we don’t already know). This picture came in today from New Orleans, Louisiana where one of our All-Time Greats by the name of “Turner” is now living. For those of you who don’t know what this picture is…..may I direct your attention to one of our earlier blog entries titled “They Burned Their Bodies” by Colin James. This is a picture of Turner’s ‘Gar-Burn.” Turner, by the way, shaved his head when we clinched a playoff spot that season. Turner also had a fake ID when he was 18 years old and playing for us…WITH MY NAME ON IT!!! CLUTCH PICTURE TURNER!!! Ahhhh!!! Thanks for sending it in. I know there are more of you out there who can take a few minutes and take a quick snapshot of YOUR Gar-Burn and send it in here to Verdugo Headquarters. Weapon said he was going to send a picture of his in last time I talked to him…..but then again…I used to give “Weap” the take sign on a 3-0 pitch and he’d TAKE all right…..as in TAKE a big rip at it….(I’m just sayin’). So Weap…we’re looking forward to seeing your Verdugo Gar-Burn indeed. You owe it to us to send us a shot of that, dude….after all…it later caused you a trip to the hospital emergency room. Weapon also told me that when he got to emergency the nurse asked him “Did you do this to yourself?” In typical Verdugo-style, Weap lied and told her he had tripped at a bonfire party at the beach or some bullshit. Then, when Weapon got the bill in the mail….in typical Verdugo-style…he never paid it!!!!!! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here’s a close-up of Turner’s GAR-BURN for everyone!!!!!!!!!!
One of the greatest players we ever had was Vic Ramirez. Vic played for us in our first season in 1990. Vic was a lefty, ran like a demon, had a great arm, and hit the shit out of the ball. Vic had graduated from C.V in 1989 and was still eligible for one more season of Legion ball. He had just played an entire season at Glendale College and started every game and did a great job for them as their lead-off hitter. Vic wanted to play for the Glendale Legion team that season…but thanks to some great selling by Hank, Weapon, and BullOxen we ultimately ended up with “C’mon Vic” (as we nicknamed him) on our roster.
One of our games in 1990 was at Chaminade High. When we first got to the field everyone was eyeing their right field fence. It was only 240 feet from home plate, but it had a net that acted as a “fence” that went straight UP about 70 feet in the air. Vic was our only left handed hitter on the team. The first guy I looked at when we all saw that fence was Vic. He was drooling. You knew what was going on inside his head………
“Don’t even think about it” I said.
Vic smiled and said “Don’t worry Gee….nothing but two irons today.”
We were having problems with some of our hitters….alot of guys were dropping their hands when the pitch was on the way and trying to jack the ball over the fence or everyone’s heads………and it wasn’t working. This is where the term “two irons” came around. If you’ve ever hit a perfect shot in Golf with a two iron you know what I’m talking about. A two iron is a low, penetrating shot that goes a LONG way. I kept telling the hitters that year…”let’s go…lots of two irons today.”
I still knew what he was thinking. And if I was in his shoes I knew what I would be thinking. That short porch in right field was a little too tempting…..
And sure enough…the first pitch of the game….Vic drops his hands and tries to jack it over that fence. He golfed a high towering routine fly ball. The ball went 241 feet for a home run. Everybody came out of the dugout laughing. In fact…everyone was laughing EXCEPT for GEE. When he came around third with his homerun trot I didn’t even high-five him. Everybody was out at the plate congratulating Vic but Hank and Weap were looking over at me and giggling because they knew I was pissed. I was just down there shaking my head but the players still knew I was happy we had a 1-0 lead. I tried to act pissed but it wasn’t working.
One thing about Vic…he was a great kid. He came up to me the next inning and said “sorry Gee….just two irons from now on.”
So his next at-bat he laces a two-iron right into the net in right field. The right fielder knew just how to play it and damn near threw Vic out at first. Time to re-think my little scheme…………
Next time before Vic came up I called him over and said “All right…you get a hall pass for the day….just golf it over the fucking fence.” All I know is that this game had quickly turned into a shootout and we needed runs any way we could get ’em.
Vic got a big smile on his face. He tried about three more times that day but couldn’t golf another one outta there but he did hit another one off of that screen that almost made it. I was learning a lesson as a coach that day. Actually, as a coach you are always learning something. The lesson was simple….JUST LET ‘EM PLAY.
We held on to win that day 16-12………recording the final out of the game with the BASES LOADED and a power-hitting lefty from Chaminade at the plate who was eyeballing that short-porch too!!!!!!!
Imagine you are the coach for the other team. You’re up against Verdugo Hills. You probably are under the assumption that it’s just going to be another day at the ballpark. You are in your spot in the third base coaching box. You kind of take a look around the field, check out how many people are in the stands, maybe you look up in the sky and just kind of realize what a great day it is for a ballgame. You watch the Verdugo pitcher taking his warm-up tosses before the game starts. Then you make a huge mistake. You look over into the Verdugo dugout. At first you see several players and coaches who are seated. But the moment you looked in….one of those guys in the dugout stands up, takes a few steps towards you, looks you straight in the eye and says in a loud, gravelly voice “GET OUTTA MY DUGOUT!!!!!!!!!” And he keeps staring at you until you look away………..
The rest of the players and coaches in that Verdugo dugout are now RIGHT ON YOU…staring you down. You look away saying to yourself “Oh shit………..”
You can’t even believe what had just happened. But boy can you now “feel” the pressure. You might even hear a few comments about YOU as the game goes on. But you dare not make that mistake again. You have learned a lesson by now. And the lesson is that you will never, ever look into that dugout the rest of the game. Even though you don’t look in there again….you KNOW “they” are watching you. You are kind of in disbelief. You can’t believe that this is happening. You go over to your dugout after the inning is over and tell someone on your team about what happened. No one believes you. Then they try to look into the Verdugo dugout to prove you wrong. And then another Verdugo guy will hop up from his seated position, take a few steps towards that guy…point…stare him down and bark out “GET OUTTA MY DUGOUT!!!!!!!!!!!!” And stare that guy down until he looks away………….
It just kind of set the tone for the game. We had a unique way of letting the enemy know who the dominant alpha males were going to be for the remainder of the day. And we had you backpeddling from the onset of the game. You know it’s amazing how many times we did this to unsuspecting members of the opposition. Word got around the league…don’t even LOOK in their dugout. We didn’t care who it was. Coach, player, ump, parent, league official….it was real simple. Someone was ready to bark out “GET OUTTA MY DUGOUT!!!!!!!!!” at all times.
General started this back in 1990. There was this John Candy look-alike coaching the Lancaster team and he was just walking over to our dugout between innings like it was a frickin’ social event and all we wanted to do was get that loudmouth Del Griffith clone to shut his pie hole. For some reason…we never told him to “GET OUTTA MY DUGOUT!!!!!!!!!” Thanks to that dork and his fat mouth…General and I decided to never let anyone in our dugout again. And the players took quite a liking to it. What was funny was when we played the Lancaster team in 1992 and when he tried doing that shit again….we were all over him. We silenced him and kicked their asses on the field. He was in a daze the whole game. Instead of sitting there and listening to his drivel….we were calling him “Dewey Oxenberg” (John Candy’s role in the movie “Stripes”). After one look in our dugout…he, and the rest of the boys from Lancaster were done. He never even looked into our dugout again…………
You know…to this day I still find myself in situations where the words “GET OUTTA MY DUGOUT!!!!!!!” still apply. How about you?
Yes, Hack Workman just happened to have some additional vintage Verdugo footage. Here they are before one of our games at Stengel Field going through their pre-game ritual of “FLIP.” Now, do you readers out there STILL think we’re just making this stuff up? Notice how the ball is in the air!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was the ’93 Team. Now, could someone PLEASE explain to me the rules of this game??????
BullOxen made a comment on one of the stories about a week ago and also shared a story about how he had worn a wet towel under his Verdugo cap on a 100 degree day. For those of you who think we’re just making this stuff up…..I strongly encourage you to read his comment………and then tell me what you think of this picture!!!!!!!!!!!! This awesome picture was sent in to me from Hack Workman up in Portland!!!!!!! CLUTCH JOB HACK!!!!!!!!!!! Click image to slightly enlarge!!!!!!!!! 
I had mentioned in an earlier post about the notorious left field fence at Saugus High. That fence they had that was colored blue and was made of solid wood. On this day in Verdugo History….We were playing Newhall-Saugus…again. This was NOT the day of the infamous “Saugus 500.” No, this was another game. In fact, this was the final regular-season game of the ’92 season and we were going to start the playoffs in a couple of days against…you guessed it….Newhall-Saugus. There wasn’t much at stake this game as both teams had already clinched playoff spots. And what happened on this day may have been one of the top-five laughers of all-time Verdugo lore.
Workman came up and hit an absolute SHOT up the left-center gap. Their left and center-fielders were sprinting towards the ball. I mean these guys were running FULL BORE. It looked like the left fielder might have had a chance to make a play on it. One problem. His teammate, the centerfielder forgot to tell him he was running out of real estate. No warning. The left fielder sprinted straight into that solid wood fence. Unfortunately, there isn’t a word that can describe the sound of when he crushed into it…all I can say is that it was really, really LOUD.
The left fielder went down in a heap. The ball caromed off the wall and our guys were now hustling around the basepaths. Their center fielder was now chasing a ball that was rolling back towards the infield. The guy that ran into the fence was still on the ground and looked like he was dead……….
As our guys were rounding the basepaths and I was “windmilling” guys home from the third base coaching box I heard Robb Turner yell out the word “FENCE!!!!!!!!!!”
I started laughing so hard I fell down………………
That blue fence they had also had that really cool yellow line painted at the top of it. If a ball hit the yellow line and still stayed in the park, it’s a home run. Hack’s shot probably hit the yellow line. It could have gone either way. I wanted to argue about it with the umpire but how could I have put together a convincing case when I couldn’t stop laughing?
The same game that all five coaches got kicked out for NOT chewing tobacco………there was yet more drama.
Garrett Lee, who had given up that first inning home run had settled into quite a groove. He retired 17 of the next 20 hitters he faced. Birmingham had one player who was a pretty big boy, but none of it was muscle if you know what I mean. He came up around the middle of the game and hit a high towering fly ball to center. It was in the air like….forever. As it was coming down someone on our bench yelled “can of corn” to our center fielder. Easy catch………easy play.
Have you heard that before? I have. I remember the phrase “can of corn” since …like…Little League.
All of a sudden the big overweight player gets all pissed that we said “can of corn” like it was a reference to his heft or something. Then his mom in the stands started bitching about it. She was like severely obese. We just kind of chuckled in the dugout amongst ourselves…in disbelief that these two people thought the phrase “can of corn” had some kind of hidden meaning. This lady just wouldn’t let it go. She was carrying on about it and wouldn’t shut up.
Finally ‘Ol Gee had to say something. Here is what was said:
Gee to Severely Obese Mother: “Hey why don’t you save all of that for a REAL crisis?”
Severely Obese Mother to Gee: “Crisis? You’re the crisis!”
Fielder’s Dad to Severely Obese Mother: “What are you stupid haven’t you ever heard of the phrase ‘can of corn?'”
Man in stands to Fielder’s Dad: “Hey don’t talk to my wife like that.”
Fielder’s Dad to Husband of Severely Obese Mother: “That’s your wife?”
Husband of Severely Obese Mother to Fielder’s Dad: “Yeah!”
Fielder’s Dad to Husband of Severely Obese Mother: “My condolences”…………………..
End of conversation.
“It was me….”
Posted: February 16, 2011 in 1993, BullOxen, Games, General, Hank, Rags/Trash Talk, WeaponIt was no secret that I liked to run kind of a “loose ship” at Verdugo. I was smoking cigarettes in the dugout. We always had our official Gatorade cooler filled with some nice cold water. Oranges were always in the dugout. I allowed Jess Rogers to set up shop IN our dugout making snowcones for everyone. Even though the league had very tough rules on tobacco use on the field and in the dugout, I never got caught by the umpires smoking. The rule was simple if you were caught…immediate ejection from the game.
I even let our players chew tobacco. Some of the guys had that thing going on where you get a chaw going and then wrap it in bubblegum. I used to chew, but by the time I was managing our team my chewing days were long gone. It had been at least 10 years since I had chewed.
In ’93 we were playing a game on a Saturday at Birmingham High. Birmingham always had a weak team, but this season they were winning a few games here and there and were starting to get a little “uppity.” Anyways, one of their guys came up in the first inning and bombed a home run off Garrett Lee, giving them 2-0 lead. It was the bottom of the first inning and they were celebrating like they had just won the World Series. We just kind of laughed at them and by the eighth inning we had opened up an 11-2 lead…and I had knocked their pitcher out of the game. Wait a minute you say? I knocked him out of the game? Yes I did.
We all know about the importance of “the short hop” but from the third base coaching box you can’t be short-hopping EVERYONE. You gotta kind of pick your spots. If I couldn’t do a blatant SHORT HOP at someone…I would usually toss back to the pitcher what I called my “Tough Knuckler.” Well, a foul ball came over my way around the 5th inning after we had been knocking their starter around and I decided to fire that “Tough Knuckler” at the pitcher. It was the mother of all knucklers. I had screwed around with knucklers my whole life and this may have been the ONLY one that actually “knuckled.” Well, it knuckled so well that he couldn’t catch it…it hit him in his right kneecap…and he had to come out of the game. I really don’t think the knuckler hurt him as bad as the battering our hitters were giving this guy. Let’s face it..he WANTED out of the game. But put it down in the books…..I was the guy who delivered the official knockout punch.
The boys at Birmingham were getting a little upset. They had to find SOME WAY to win this game, and it wasn’t going to happen on the field. So one of their coaches goes to the ump and tells him that we had guys chewing tobacco in the dugout. Sure enough, the umpire comes over to our dugout to see if there was any “evidence” of chaw. The whole dugout was filled with spit all over the ground. Forensic tests were not needed on this one…we were BUSTED. The ump said “who’s been chewing?”
“It was me”……….I said.
“You did all of this?” he asked. “You could have been sitting here for two days and not spit that many times.”
“Well, I was doing it, too” ……….announced General.
Then Hank pipes up “Yeah, so did I.”
Weapon followed up with “Okay, you got me….I was doing it, too.”
BullOxen said…….”Yeah, it was me.”
The funny thing that was happening here was that NONE of the coaches had chewed. Well, except for maybe BullOxen. But we all stepped up to account for the mess in the dugout and to protect any players from getting tossed out of the game. Totally unorchestrated, every coach instinctively took the bullet for the other guys. Anyways, the ump BELIEVED our story and threw all five coaches out of the game. Automatic forfeiture of the game. No coaches left. This set off an immediate dogpiling from the Birmingham team. They had defeated us and now they were rubbing it in……
But wait a minute!!!!!!! There JUST HAPPENED to be a couple of old codgers there from Post 288 who were there watching our team play that day. In fact…ONE OF THEM was actually listed on the official paperwork of our team (that I just so happened to have with me that day) as the DE FACTO Manager of our team!!! That’s right…’Ol Dave Haskell was there and had to come on the field for the final few innings to guide the team to victory. The umps were really disappointed that Haskell was there. And the boys from Birmingham had to break up their little dogpile and get back on the field and finish off the whoopin’ we were giving them. And all five coaches who were thrown out of the game got to sit in the stands and take it all in. The boys at Birmingham were now STARING DOWN Haskell. They were not happy. Hank said something to the Birmingham dugout like “we’ve got some bad news………HE DOESN’T CHEW!!!”
Haskell knew nothing about baseball, and was the first to admit it. This made it even more hilarious. He was hamming it up down in the third base box…giving signs to our players that had no meaning. Haskell, probably about 75 years old at the time, was rubbing it right back in Birmingham’s collective faces……and he was loving every minute of it.
Haskell was a drill sergeant in the Army. After the game he went into full drill-sarge mode….which scared the hell out of a few of our players. “Pay attention now I’m talking to you!!” he barked at the team. I’ll never forget the look on Cowsill’s face!! It was like…holy shit!!!
“Now!!” Haskell said “I want you all to say right now WE’RE THE BEST!!!”
A few guys said “We’re the best”
It wasn’t loud enough for Haskell…….”I said I want to hear you say WE’RE THE BEST!!!” He looked like a real drill sarge. Scary…mouth open…sizing people up….daring someone to challenge his authority. Moving in close on people acting like he was about to grab them and kick their ass if they didn’t do it. Everyone got the message.
“WE’RE THE BEST!!!!!!!!”
“Say it again” he barked.
“WE’RE THE BEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Haskell had everyone…including me, all jacked-up and screaming “WE’RE THE BEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
It was so loud the Birmingham players and coaches were really starting to get pissed about it.
God that was a great day…………
Verdugo ALWAYS gets in the last word……….AND the last laugh!!!!!!!!!!!!
verdugo288 