Archive for the ‘No Way!’ Category

Verdugo Hires Bounty Hunter!!!!!!

Posted: April 20, 2011 in Behind the Scenes, No Way!
1

We had no choice.  We really didn’t think it was going to come down to this.  But like they say “you gotta do what you gotta do.”

So it is with great regret that we hereby announce that we have hired an official “Bounty Hunter” to spearhead the tracking down of those of you who have not YET committed to attending THE BASH in July.  Keep in mind that this “thug” has been hired as the “Director” ONLY.  He will not be doing the actual work in the field…..he has an “entourage” of thugs that he routinely surrounds himself with and possibly some of their pictures will be released just to STRIKE FEAR into those of you who insist on hiding from our authority!!

And as you can see from the picture here……our new “Director of Bounty Hunting” definitely means business!!!!!!

We asked him to say a few words after he was hired……….all he said was “We will hunt you down, we will find you , and we will HURT you if you decide NOT to attend the Verdugo Hills Reunion Bash in July.”

Now…..wouldn’t it be easier to simply go to the story titled “Reunion Date Has Been Set” …set up a profile…post a comment with the words “I’m IN”…than have to deal with THIS GUY?

And don’t EVER forget to SUBSCRIBE to this BLOG!!!!!!  AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Impromptu Bullpen Session

Posted: March 3, 2011 in 1990, Behind the Scenes, Chandler, General, No Way!
0

I am going to write a story (probably in the next post) about one of the greatest games we ever played.  It was in our first season, The 1990 Team.  We beat Quartz Hill that day 13-12.  The game lasted FIVE HOURS and 45 minutes.  Add in an hour and a half drive EACH way and, well, you just might understand why General and I stopped off at the store to pick up a six-pack.  And NO…we were not drinking in the car.  Let me put it to you this way…..it was so frickin’ hot that day that the TIPS OF MY EARS had blisters on them for about a week from the sunburn!!!

General was driving and we decided to go down Angeles Crest on the way home.  There were three players who were in the back of Generals truck.  Ironically, they were all pitchers.  General’s truck had one of those cool sliding windows so we opened it up and were talking to the pitchers as we drove.  We were all laughing about how we had just ruined Quartz Hills’ day.  We got about half-way down the Crest and General needed to “go.”  So we pulled over on the side of the road, got out, and looked for a place to “go.”  Everybody got out of the Truck and was kind of milling around.  I took the opportunity to crack a beer.  Damn it tasted good after that long day!

I looked over off of the side of the road and saw a road sign.  One of those yellow signs that gives instructions to the drivers coming down the road. I can’t remember what the hell it said but it quickly evolved from a sign into a TARGET.  It was in a weird spot.  You could barely see it from the road.  It was about 10 feet BELOW us on the roadside.

“Hey I bet you guys I can hit that sign before you do”  I said to the pitchers.

“You’re on” one of them said.

These guys then started picking up these small rocks and throwing them at this sign that was about 45-50 feet away.  Remember, it was 45-50 feet away…but it was below us.

None of them hit it.  Everybody was missing above it.

“Stop!” I said.  “You guys aren’t throwing the right sized rocks.  Now before we start this competition let me check something out.”

The pitchers watched as I climbed down the embankment with a beer in my left hand, and a BIG BOULDER in my right hand.  I got up to about 10 feet from that sign and totally unloaded on it with that boulder.  CLANG!!!!!!  It sounded so awesome…it echoed out in the middle of nowhere.

Everybody was busting up.  “I win!” I announced.

“Bullshit!” they said.  “You cheated.” 

“Well, all I said was I was gonna hit it before you did….and that’s exactly what I did.  If you want to believe my bullshit about how I’m gonna ‘check something out’ on that sign just so I can walk up to it like that and unload on it…….then that’s on you!” 

We all got a kick out of the noise that sign made when we hit it and soon enough it turned into quite a competition.  Guys were cheating…everything….it was beautiful.

Then we moved back to about 50 feet.  Guys kept throwing OVER it.  They were missing high with everything…..kinda like what gets a pitcher in trouble in games….missing HIGH, getting the ball up in the strike zone.

So I started coaching ’em right there.  “Split your hands quicker!”….CLANG!!……….”Get that thing out in front of you!”….CLANG!!!……”shorten your stride up a little!”………….CLANG!!!………..”There it is!!!”

These guys started bringing the ball down and beating the shit out of that sign.  They dented the crap out of it.  Every time someone would nail it we would start busting up.  It was so loud!!  CLANG!!!  CLANG!!!  Echoing through the canyon!!!  Big dents in that sign…paint coming off of it.  They were getting it.  By the time we were ready to leave that sign was only held up by one screw.  It was just dangling there…dented….most of the paint gone…………swinging in the wind.

“C’mon Gee….let’s knock it all the way off!!!!!!” 

“No…we gotta get outta here.”  I said.

Then a car drives by.  This guy pulls over and sees these kids throwing boulders at a sign….and me standing there drinking a BEER!!

“What the %$#$ are you doing?”  He asked.

“We’re working on our control.”  I said……..pointing to the destroyed sign.

The guy just shook his head and drove off.  We started laughing again.

“C’mon Gee, let’s knock it all the way off.”  The pitchers kept asking.

“No….we gotta get outta here……besides, that wouldn’t be very considerate of us to do that now would it?”  I smilingly asked them.

They got the joke……….

Coaching pitchers is a LOT easier when all you got laying around is some boulders and a metal sign…………..

I can’t remember which three pitchers were there that day with us.  I know for sure that one of them was Chandler.  Maybe you guys can help me out with who the other two guys were………….

“QUICK!!!!!….PANTHERLIKE!!!!!”

Posted: February 21, 2011 in 1992, 1993, No Way!, Rags/Trash Talk
4

 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!!!!!!!!!!

Proof that “They Burned Their Bodies”……..

Posted: February 21, 2011 in 1992, BullOxen, Hank, No Way!, Turner, Weapon
0

We’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!!!!!!!!!!

“Flip” OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Posted: February 19, 2011 in 1992, 1993, Behind the Scenes, Hack, No Way!
2

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??????

“Short-Hop Him!!!!!!!”

Posted: February 12, 2011 in No Way!
4

I always enjoyed watching our new recruits in their first season.  They weren’t really aware of  “how we do it” at Verdugo.   Sure, they had the uniform and everything else, but they didn’t really know “How we roll” at Verdugo.  It was fun watching their faces during the first few games of each season.  The smile they’d get on their faces when they’d hear one of our veteran players say something to another player or coach that just totally crossed the line.   They were like “wowwwwwwwwww”…you can say that here?”  So it was a great dynamic….the veteran players who had already spent a summer or two at Verdugo showing the ropes to the rookies.

I particularly liked it when a stray foul ball came over towards our dugout and the new recruit would pick up the ball and make a perfect toss to the umpire or opposing player or coach.   Most of the players by then had realized that not too many things bothered me and I didn’t get too pissed off (at least at OUR players) and that I ran a pretty loose ship.  However, when one of the new recruits grabbed a foul ball and made a perfect throw to an ump or opposing player or coach I would always say “What are you doing?”  I made it look like I was upset….and General would be sitting in the dugout with me just shaking his head like he was all pissed off. 

“No, no, no” we would say.  “Don’t EVER do that again!”

The player would be looking at us like “what did I do wrong?”

And so would begin our first “teachable moment” with our new player. 

We would then pull him aside and say………..”dude……this is Verdugo here”………….”you can’t make a good throw to that guy, he’s the enemy!”

“So what should I have done?”………..the new player would ask.

“You gotta short-hop him!” we would say.

The new player would then get this evil little grin on his face and realize that every time a foul ball came over he could short-hop either an ump or member of the opposition.  You could just see the guys wheels turning………it was always hilarious. 

Invariably, the new recruit was ready to go get just about every foul ball he could his hands on to give that nice “tweener” hop and leave a little bruise mark on someone’s shins, ankles, wrists, forearms, whatever.  However, there was still one part of the equation that they never had right until we further instructed them.  We would let them unload the first time just to get the feel of dishing out a nice “short-hop.”  At this point they were pretty proud of themselves…until I said “what are you doing?”

And so began the second “teachable moment” with the new player.

We would then instruct the player on how to “make a sale” to the person he had just injured.  Dishing out a great short-hop is easy……..it’s making the opposition BELIEVE that it was an accident that is the key to effectively “short-hopping” someone.  

We would then have several veterans in the dugout teaching the new player how to “make that sale”………

Some guys would instruct about the correct facial expression to make…..or how to have “understanding eyes”……..or how to say “my bad blue”……..a quick wave…….maybe bring the ump a glass of water in between innings just to let him know how sorry you really are.  Tell the guy on the other team something like “damn that one just kinda got away from me, sorry man.”  But they key thing to do (at least until you turn your back and whoever you short-hopped cannot see your face) is to NEVER SMILE.  In fact………how long can you go without smiling?  In fact……how long can the whole dugout go without smiling?  It became kind of a game-within-the-game.  Incidentally, by now you should know who started all of this shit with the short-hopping during our first season in 1990………..yes, it was HANK.  And nobody could short-hop someone better than Hank. 

It was priceless…….by mid-season everybody had it down.  And I would just sit there quietly when a foul ball would roll over towards our dugout.  And as one of our guys was picking it up…several other guys in the dugout would cover their mouths and pretend like they were coughing or some bullshit and say “Short-hop him!!!” at a volume that no one could hear except us.  Then the player who picked up the ball (while keeping  a straight face) would deliver a brilliant short-hop  and inflict a little pain on either our opponent or an ump.  Then, after the short-hop was completed…the player who threw it (and several other members in the dugout) would apologize and show looks of concern about the well-being of the oblivious recipient.  Some guys would even take a few steps out of the dugout to make it look really good…as if they were available to help assist with medical attention if needed.  Some guys would even pretend they were mad at the guy who threw it.  And we’d all start laughing about it 5 or ten minutes later.  And usually laughing HARD about it.

You know, you’re never TOO OLD to short-hop someone.   I do it all the time on the golf course…….what can I say?  I just can’t help it………….I’ll be 51 here in just a few weeks and I still can’t stop short-hopping people.   And they say Golf is a “Gentleman’s Game.”……………..

“The Saugus 500″…part one

Posted: December 26, 2010 in 1990, Behind the Scenes, Frost, Games, General, No Way!
0

Out in the City of Saugus, California there is a racetrack.  I think they call it the “Saugus Speedway.”  While we were scheduled to play a baseball game in Saugus that day, the game  we played became a mere footnote to a much more monumental event.  An unplanned event of epic proportions.   An event where there was much more at stake than the outcome of a baseball game.  An event where winning was all that mattered.  An event where everyone DECLARED themselves the be the winner, yet no winner was ever officially DECLARED.  An event that to this day (20 years later) is still surrounded by a cloud of controversy.  An event we appropriately named “The Saugus 500.”

It was 1990, our first season, and we were playing a game that hot summer day against a team called Newhall-Saugus.  We had a ritual before every road game.  All of the players and coaches would meet at the same local park in our neighborhood and I would pass out hand-written directions to all of those who were driving.  That day we had about six cars loaded with players and coaches.  One of the kids named “Frost” showed up driving in his step-dad’s Maserati.  He said, “Don’t worry about the directions everybody,  just follow me.”  Like an idiot…I said “okay.”  He then grabbed ALL of the directions I had written out, stuck them in his pocket, hopped in his car and ripped out of the parking lot, leaving us all behind.   

Thanks to Frost, we now had NO directions to the field and he was about a quarter mile down the road.  Going about 60 in a 35.  “Shit!” I said……”Get in your cars and follow his ass!”

People were diving into their cars.  Scrambling!  All I know is that if we lost him, we didn’t know where the hell the field was.  We were a little late as it was, so we all had no choice but to put the pedal to the metal and catch Frost.  Shit I was pissed.  We left a trail of rubber when we left the parking lot.  General was driving.  A couple of the other cars got a little sideways leaving the parking lot.  We ripped to the freeway and we could barely see a speeding car off in the distance that looked like a dot.  I pointed, squinted my eyes and said to General………….”Frost!!!………..get him!!!!”

General did a brilliant job of closing the gap on Frost and all of the other cars were right behind us.  I realized about five miles down the freeway that this was turning into a frickin’ race!!  Everybody was going about 100 mph.  One car would pull up alongside another…the guys in that car would flip-off the guys in the other car.  People were rolling down their windows and yelling shit at each other, making faces and shit.  One of the guys in one car threw something at one of the other cars.  He missed.  Now everybody was laughing.  I hate going fast!!!…..but everybody was determined to win the race.  It was insane!  I asked myself  “What am I doing here?”

Frost knew it was a race now but had a little advantage…he knew where the field was, and he was driving a Maserati.  He signaled to get off at a couple of off-ramps….we got behind him and signaled to get off as well.  Then at the last second he ripped back onto the freeway.  He ‘s toying with us!!  “Fucker!”………I yelled….. “Catch him General!”  Then all of a sudden General says “I think I know where we are…..the field is gonna be on the next off-ramp.”

We had actually pulled ahead of him, then Frost made a crazy move to take the lead as we got off the freeway but he screwed up and got in the wrong lane.  Some of the cars had followed Frost, and some had followed General.  Now we had six cars all stuck at a RED LIGHT….guys flipping each other off….revving their motors.  The chess game began.  Everybody was boxed in.  Frost was ahead of us, but he was in the left lane and pinned in.   We were in the right lane.  Somebody had to make a move.  We had JUST enough room to make something happen.  I said “Do it Gen”………..laughing all the way General drove right up the curb and onto the sidewalk,  just missing a bus bench by less than a foot and a light pole by the same margin.  We had made a clean right turn and escaped the traffic-jam!  We rolled down our windows and started waving goodbye to all the losers that were stuck at that red light!  We saw their faces…they were pissed!  

One of the players in our car yelled “There it is!”   The field was in sight.  General gunned it and we were the first to enter the parking lot.  Then we looked behind….”Oh Shit…it’s Frost!…here he comes!”  And he was bringing it in that Maserati.  And the cars behind Frost were right on him.  Bad news.  The parking lot was totally DIRT!!!  Every car came flying into that parking lot!!  Dust was flying  everywhere….cars were driving in circles , doing brodies.  It looked like a mushroom cloud.  General brought it to a stop.  I got out and quickly drew a line in the dirt behind us.  All of the cars came to skidding halts.  Half a mile away it probably looked like a fire had started.   

“We won!” I yelled.

“Bullshit” said the guys from one of the other cars.

I pointed to the line I had drawn in the dirt.  Smiling, I said “we crossed the finish line!….we win!!!”

“Bullshit!!” another group of guys said..”we saw you draw that line!”

“Bullshit that line was already there”………I said.

“No way!!!” said some of the guys from another car.

Everybody was yelling at each other at this point.   I yelled “Allright quit fucking around we got a game to play….and me and The General won!  And Frost what the hell are you thinking!?!?!?”

We all started getting our gear out of the cars.  Everybody was silent for about a minute.  Then as we’re all walking towards the field Hank pipes up “That’s bullshit driving up the sidewalk General!”

Now everybody started arguing again.  Everybody was saying that they won now.  We didn’t know how to get onto the field.  Gates were locked.  It was starting to get a little heated.  Each driver of each car was telling everybody else why THEY had won the race.  Hank started saying “we’ve done it….we’ve won the Saugus 500!”  We all got ready to hop the left field fence to get onto the field.  This was no chain link fence. It was solid wood, we couldn’t see what was on the other side. Guys were throwing their bags and equipment over the fence.  We all scaled it pretty fast.  By the time we got over the fence and onto the field there was just one problem:  Our opponents were all sitting in left field with their coaches going through stretching exercises.  Half the shit we had thrown over the fence almost hit one of their players or coaches.

We didn’t care.  We just kept on arguing about who had won “The Saugus 500.”   We didn’t even acknowledge their presence.  We just grabbed our stuff off the ground and walked right through their stretching-session and continued over to our dugout arguing all the way. While I kind of wondered what the boys from Newhall-Saugus were thinking at this point…..the beauty of it was I DIDN’T CARE.

……….to be continued

Father’s Day with Ron Cey

Posted: December 23, 2010 in Behind the Scenes, No Way!, Rags/Trash Talk
1

by Gee

1992 was the season we broke through.  We had certainly “served notice” to the rest of the league in ’90 and ’91, but ’92 was the year.  We just flat out pounded the shit out of the ball.  This was a big game for us.  Going in we were charging hard and carving out our name around the league as the new bully in the block.  Here we were on Father’s Day playing against a team that had won the Legion World Series three years earlier.  And I must admit we all took personal pleasure in ruining Ron Cey’s Father’s Day.  Kind of has a nice ring to it, huh?

We were at the field early, guys were getting ready to go through their pre-game “flip” ritual.  The other team arrived and upon their arrival Ron Cey kind of took it upon himself to hop right down onto our field and start distracting my players.  Cey’s son was playing for the other team that day.  We all knew who he was.  But I’m thinking “what’s this guy doing?”  Isn’t he getting enough attention on those 1-800-THE-LAW-2 commercials?  I’m thinking “whatever dude.”  But we DO have a rule at Verdugo.  It’s called “get out of my dugout,”  and Ron Cey is no exception.  And he handed it to me on a silver platter.  I broke the silence by saying “Hey look everybody Steve Garvey’s here!”

Yeah, he didn’t like that.  I knew I had taken the upper hand when he corrected me and told me who he really was.  As if we didn’t know.   I wanted to abruptly tell him to “get outta my dugout” but decided to use a little finesse on this one.  Have a little fun with it.  He started out by telling us about how he had hit home runs against Nolan Ryan.  He said they had “figured out” Ryan.  He said they always knew when Ryan was going to throw a curveball because every time he threw it he would “look down” at the ground when starting his windup.  Sounded like Rocket Science to me.  So I asked him “and I suppose you had all of this inside information on Ryan the time he threw the no-hitter against you boys on Monday Night Baseball?”

Yeah he didn’t like that comment either.  Our guys were no longer in awe of him.  So I continued to interview him about “the big contracts”…and the “bad attitudes of the (then) modern-day players”…and other questions.  I really wasn’t interested in his answers, I was more interested in cutting him off in the middle of his long-winded pontifications and firing another question at him that would always finish with the words “what do you think of that?”

His frustration was growing.  He probably hadn’t been treated that way since being in the Minor Leagues.  I don’t know what the final question was that I asked him (that ended in “what do you think of that?”) but the last answer he gave to me was “I think you’re full of shit!” and he walked away……pissed!  Mission accomplished!  He had officially “gotten out of my dugout” and our players were laughing about it.  Ron Cey and his son were the least of our worries.  We went out on the field and punished them 8-3.  The score was not really indicative of the beating they took.  BullOxen threw a gem even though he was stung by a bee while on the mound.

The other team was grumbling that the playing field was not really level that day because they all had been at the prom last night.  Funny, I was thinking.  You poor babies did a little partying last night?  Well, you just ran up against a team that parties EVERY night…so quit crying about it.   Hell, our guys probably spilled more alcohol last night than you wimps drank.  Once again I was thinking “whatever dude.”

Cey’s kid had an 0-fer (three?) at the plate.  In the fifth or sixth inning we hit another bullet up the middle that Cey tried to dive at.  The ball went through (again) and Cey didn’t get up.  He just lied there on the field face down.  They stopped the game.  Onto the field (again) jumps Ron Cey himself to go check on his kid and make sure he’s okay.  It didn’t take long for a few of our players to yell out “CALL 1-800-THE-LAW-2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

I had a hard time keeping a straight face on that one, but I did.  And Cey and his kid didn’t stick around for the outcome of the game.  They went home early.  They probably had some things planned for Father’s Day.  I’m sure he had a great Father’s day.  But I’ll bet you it was a Father’s Day He’ll NEVER forget.

“They burned their bodies”

Posted: December 23, 2010 in 1992, Behind the Scenes, Hank, No Way!, Weapon
0

by Colin James

I have finally met with the coach of this baseball team.  This was our second interview and we couldn’t even get past the first question before I was inspired to write.  All I asked him was the following:  “So just what was it about this team that made it so special?”

He said “They did all the little things that you hoped a team would do.  On the field and off the field, too.  They hung around together, they were always picking each other up, they were looking to slide headfirst, they went in hard to break up double-plays, they were looking to dive and make spectacular plays, they talked a lot of shit,  they dogpiled, they burned their bodies, they…..”

“Stop!” I asked in disbelief…….”Did you just say that they burned their bodies?”

A smile lit up his face.  “Yes” he said, “they burned their bodies.”  Now he was laughing.

“What on earth are you talking about?” I asked.

“I can’t remember the exact date it happened,” he said.  “It was either the night after a win that had clinched our first playoff spot or it was after we had made a furious rally to beat Fat Jody in the playoffs”

Before I asked him just who “Fat Jody” was I had to ask “They burned their bodies?”

“Let’s just say we were celebrating that win in typical Verdugo fashion.  I went straight home and started pounding celebratory beers and some of the players showed up.  Maybe except for four or five guys everyone was there.  We were all drinking beer and smoking cigars.  I think it was Hank who started the whole thing.  I walked outside and there he was, standing there with a cigar in his left hand.  He reached that cigar across his chest to his right arm and was burning a mark in his right arm.  If he had pushed that cigar any harder into his arm he would have knocked the quarter-sized cherry off of it.  He was basically branding himself.    He held it there for about 30 seconds.   You could smell the flesh burning.  Smoke was just coming off his arm.  He still has that “gar”-burn mark today.  I think six or seven guys did it.”

“They were so happy with the win that they BRANDED themselves with cigars?” I asked.

“Fucking -A.  That’s exactly what they did.  Hank started doing it and it was kind of contagious.  Next thing you know like six or seven guys were doing it….all trying to outdo the other as to how long they could hold it on there while it burned.  Nobody held it on there longer than The Weapon.  In fact, Weap held it on there SO LONG that about a week later he had to go to the hospital.”

My God man, I thought to myself!  “And what happened to The Weapon?” I asked.

“He branded himself right in that spot where people slit their wrists, you know?  Well, apparently it got infected and a purple line was moving up his arm from the spot where he had branded himself with the gar.  You should let Weap tell you the story at the reunion……..I promise you WON’T stop laughing the way he tells it.”

“Did you also brand yourself that night?” I asked.

“I would have”…..he said………”but I was just too drunk.  But that’s what you gotta love about our program.  We didn’t work hard and play hard.  We played hard and played hard!”

And here I was thinking that this is something one would do IF and ONLY IF they were too drunk.  My God, I thought to myself……..I wish I could have seen this team play!

Were YOU one of the folks who “Burned their bodies?”…………….if so , please comment and tell us what it felt like (if you even remember).  Better yet take a picture of it and send it to us here at the blog and we’ll be happy to show the world your official “Verdugo Gar-Burn”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A Summer League Baseball Team Reunion? WTF???

Posted: December 21, 2010 in No Way!
0

As I listened to my friend speak on the telephone I couldn’t help but eavesdrop a bit. The fellow he was speaking with was telling my friend about a planned reunion for a summer league baseball team that played 20 years ago. As a freelance writer, I am always on the hunt for a story. But it seemed a bit ridiculous to me. A summer league team planning a reunion get-together?

As an Englishman who moved to the States 25 years ago, I have still never “got” Americans and their passion for baseball. I still have trouble calling that game they play on Sundays “football.” But this conversation my friend had with the coach of this team had piqued my interest. So I began to ask him questions about it all.

Who was the fellow who coached this team? How old were the kids who played on it? Why are they even planning on having a reunion? I mean, it’s a stupid summer-league team isn’t it?

“No it wasn’t” my friend said to me. “It was much more than that. I’ve heard just about every story about that team and you wouldn’t believe some of the shit these guys did. It may be the greatest story NEVER told.”

“Can I speak with your friend about this?” I asked.

“Yeah, he’d probably want to talk about it. He’s still a little pissed off about how it all ended, but if you can get him to start talking about it, he’ll probably never STOP talking about it. Why would you want to talk to him about it?” he asked.

“Well”..I said…”If it is what you say it is, I just may have found another story.”

He laughed and said “And you’ll probably become a millionaire if you dare tell that story.” 

I procured the telephone number of the coach. I called him. I spent at least an hour on the phone with him. It took him a while to open up, but ten minutes into the call I was on the floor in hysterics. He spoke about his players and fellow coaches with a hallowed reverence. I never learned anyone’s FULL name. He had “other” monikers he used for them…such as “General” or “Hank” or “Weapon” or “Wiley Jackson”….when I asked him their REAL names he sounded almost offended that I didn’t know who these people were. I figured I’d find all of this out later. He spoke of the things that happened in the games they played like it had happened YESTERDAY.

I must admit that by the end of the call I was a full-blown FAN. I wanted to know everything about “the four years” as he called it. I asked him if we could produce a blog that could chronicle the history of this group leading up to and also covering the events at the reunion itself.

“Oh yeah” he said. “But you’ll have to pay me……..cause I ain’t paying you nothing.”

There was silence on the phone for about five seconds. It was possibly the longest five seconds I have experienced. Someone had to say something at this point. So I broke the deafening silence with the words “When can we get started?”………

Colin James 12/21/10

From Gee:  This guy Colin is going to write the stuff, send it to me, and I will publish it.  Bear with me while I figure out how to do this wordpress blog.  I’ll figure it out.  Merry Xmas everybody……………