Rickstate

What is Sandlot?

Pseudo-doubleheader this past Saturday.
G1 – 4.13.2024 – East Austin Ramblers vs. South Austin Lovejoys @ Govalle – 11am
G2 – 4.13.2024 – Austin Drag vs. Austin Drag (not a typo) @ Govalle – 3pm

What a day?
We had rain earlier in the week (more on that later), but this day provided clear skies, 80-degree temps, anniversaries, birthdays, and baseball.

Game 1
Instagram post.

I arrived with my string trimmer and began knocking down the weeds from shin-height to ankle-height. Fortunately, Austin Parks + Rec arrived just before gametime to give the infield a proper mowing and throw some chalk down the foul lines.

After weed-whacking the fence line, I got word that I’d be on the bump to open the game. I cleated up, stretched, and took the hill. The Lovejoys can put the bat on the ball. Their lefty leadoff hitter, Grady Fishplate, opened with an opposite-field bloop down the leftfield line. He managed to work his way around the bases for the LJs’ lone 1st inning run. The Ramblers answered with two of their own in the bottom half.

The top of the second provided a few balls that found some holes and a big mistake by the pitcher (ahem, this author). With two outs, runners on 2nd and 3rd, and a full count on the hitter, I offered a changeup. Their hitter was a little in front of it, but he put a decent charge into a two-hopper to our shortstop’s right. The ball made its way into left center and it plated two runs.

My arm felt a little tight, but my injured knee still isn’t able to do much of anything that requires athleticism. Pitching pushes it, but baseball is better than not baseball– and I’m friggin’ dying not being able to legitimately play the field and run the bases (plus my swing feels like dogshit).

Once it’s safe to say that my pitching is done for the day, there’s a fair chance that tops will be popped.

Since I rarely start games on the hill, the oat sodas got started a lil earlier than usual. Hope relieved me and she pitched really well. The Ramblers defense did make some pretty good plays, we turned three (THREE!) sharp-looking doubleplays, but also had some untimely errors that fueled the LJ rallies.

Ramblers rallied for runs and rallied for beers, but couldn’t overcome the deficit.

The final tally ended up being≈
Ramblers – one dozen ‘Ra-Ra’s
Lovejoys – two dozen champagne toasts

---

Game 2

To reprise my fictitious, scripted schtick– the following is how I imagine Drag Captain Keith coordinating with the Temple Freighthoppers:

Temple Freighthoppers Captain:
Hiya Keith, I’ve got some bad news.

Drag Captain Keith:
What’s that?

Freighthoppers:
Well Sir, we got some rain. A lot of rain. Gonna have to cancel Saturday’s game.

Keith:
Bummer. Well, we didn’t get near as much rain as yall did. We also happen to have some field space reserved for Saturday. Any chance you Freighthoppers might be able to ride them rails down south and play some ball?

Freighthoppers:
Oh yeah? In Austin you say? Where exactly might that be?

Keith:
Whether by rail, automobile, or as the crow flies, Austin’s Govalle Park is a mere 70 miles south of Temple’s Baker Field.

Freighthoppers:
Huh? Well, how about that? You don’t say. But, ummmm, the thing with that there is, that, uhhh, we have another issue…

Keith:
Shoot. I’m all ears.

Freighthoppers:
Well, you see, I’m just not sure we can make that happen.

Keith:
Playing baseball? The thing both teams already have scheduled to do at that time on that day?

Freighthoppers:
Yeppers. You see, I am not entirely sure my team feels like playing baseball on an 80-degree, blue-skied, beautiful Central Texas day.

Keith:
You lost me.

Freighthoppers:
I mean, I’m down. I simply can’t get enough baseball. You say the word and I’m there. I am friggin there man…

Keith:
Cool. C’mon out. Bring some friends. If yall can’t, as a group, make the game happen, we’ll go ahead and try to get the most out of the weather and field space. Please join us. Bring some friends and teammates. We’ll have ourselves a time.

Freighthoppers:
Yeah, well, the issue there is– no. I just kinda, sorta, just uhh, don’t really feel like doing it, ya know?

Keith:
Huh? Well, how about that?
Welp, seeya later.

Freighthoppers:
For sure. Hit us up next time. We’ll be down.

Keith:
Absolutely.
For sure.
Without hesitation or rumination.

Freighthoppers?

I’ll put down the snark.
I’m sure there was a perfectly good explanation for why they were geared up to play up there, but couldn’t make a game happen in Austin. Even if an explanation wasn’t thrown our way, we still had a helluva time celebrating one of the founders of this organization’s 40th birthday.

All 18 Dragsters + pals split into three squads of six (two teams responsible for fielding, one group of six got to hit). To keep the birthday scrimmage moving, every AB started with a 1-1 count. Depending on the scenario, some walks reset the count (others didn’t). It was just an outstanding all-around day.

Hotdogs was grilled. Birthday gifts were gifted. Drinks were shared. It couldn’t have been a better day as we all got to enjoy this game, this team, all while giving Braden his much-deserved day.

Final Score
Drag (Keith’s team) – no.
Drag (Braden’s team)- body.
Drag (Jeff’s team)- cares.

Sidenote: Braden Williams invited me out to Sandlot in 2018. I am forever grateful that he reached out and built this group. Happy birthday bud! It’s been an incredible six years.

What is Sandlot?

03.28.2024 – Spencer Thibodeaux Birthday Pick-Up Game @ Govalle – 7pm

Link to instagram post.

What a group? What a community?
What an outstanding celebration?
The pickup gameplay was solid. Everyone had themselves a time.
Just a ton of people who love being at the ballpark.
Happy birthday Thibs!

03.29.2024 – East Austin Ramblers vs. Austin Yardbirds @ Govalle – 7pm

Link to instagram post.

I wrote about these fellas to close out last season. Those Yardbirds can all swing the lumber. Barrels, long balls, wallbangers… name it. Prior to the first pitch, I let the Rambly know that we were going to see a lineup that consistently drives the ball. That’s exactly what they did. We got our outs where we could and plated runs whenever we could, but few Sandlot teams can keep those Ybird bats quiet.
Defensively, I hobbled around first base and got to see what it’s like on that side of the diamond.

All in all, a pretty great night full of high-fives, liners, chatter, cheddar, and goodtimes.

The final tally ended up being:
Ramblers – 8 possum balls
Yardbirds – 18 gopher balls

03.30.2024 – Austin Drag vs. South Austin Lovejoys @ Govalle – 7pm

Link to instagram post.

With our lefty Pitcher/OF Steven Carrizales out (knee scope in late Feb/early March), our starting Shortstop/Relief Pitcher Nick Stillman out (broken thumb in mid-March), and myself (3B/Relief Pitcher) all on the IL or “very hobbled” list, Keith’s already heavy pitching workload has resembled our organization’s very first season (from a lot of innings to nearly all innings).

With that in mind, Jeff Waterman got the start on the bump and did a pretty damn good job throwing strikes. The LJs (and pals) hit the ball fairly well, but thanks to some great plays in the field– Harrison Davis made the only Sandlot grab against the outfield wall I’ve seen and Rhodes knocked down a well-hit ball at second and was able to get the force out, The Drag were able to keep it close.

With The Drag on top 6-4 after four innings, our bullpen got a little wild and our defense let a few balls get by. What has been a recurring theme this spring, happened again– a rough inning takes place (no 5-run cap this time), then both teams settle into cruise control and everyone kind of gets their reps in until it’s time to leave the ballpark.

The LJs + pals had a great crew. They ended the game with a pitcher throwing some legit knucklers (I hadn’t seen those in awhile). Even though Keith has been trying to give his wing some rest, he eventually had to get on the hill and pitch a few innings (of course he did).

Due to a work conflict, Bullpen Catcher RJ Kirk, was unable to make the game, but he’d be damned if he was gonna miss out on the post-game hang at Kinda Tropical.
We took the L, but we had a great damn evening and we’re hopeful to put a few wins together once a few of our pitchers heal up and are able to give Keith’s rubber arm some relief.

Final Score
Drag – 8
Lovejoys – ∞ (or thereabouts)

Good game. Great hang.

What is Sandlot?

03.08.2024 – Austin Drag vs. South Austin Parakeets @ Govalle – 7pm

Link to Instagram post.

The Keets are friggin’ good. In the previous post, I wrote that nobody “wins them all,” and of course that’s exactly what the Keets did last season. Or they came very close. I’ve heard their 2023 season record was 20-0, 19-1, 20-2…
…who’s to say? If there’s not a silly write up about it, an instagram post to document it, and a group of folks rehashing it while drinking beers in a caliche parking lot, did it even really happen?

Jokes aside, in The Drag’s earlier years, I remember trading wins and losses with these guys, but it feels like all we’ve gotten post-Covid is rainouts and losses. But, you know, they aren’t ill-tempered losses. The Keets just played well and we’ve historically ran into one dreadful inning that sealed our fate.

If you follow MLB, you’re aware of Rally Squirrels, Rally Cats, Rally Monkeys, and Bad Luck Cats.
Animals are often regarded as omens in this game of ours. Hyperbole aside, it’s more of a wonder if a cat, squirrel, or racoon makes its way onto a major league diamond. At the parks we play– it’s basically par for the course. But still, with as many Cubs fans as there are on The Drag… let’s just say damn-near everything could be interpreted as an “omen.”

To their point though, the game was clean. Error free for three innings.
And then, in between innings, a very athletic and playful dog ran onto the field. Your humble narrator tried corralling the pooch, to no avail.

And just like in many of the hyperlinked examples, that’s all that was needed for those Keets to start barelling balls and The Drag to start making errors. On one such barreled ball down the third baseline, the third baseman (the guy writing this thing) maneuvered to his right and felt his surgically-repaired knee lockup. Damn.
Playing is more fun than watching.
Baseball is better than not baseball.
I tried to game it, but the knee had no game left.

Our defense did what we could to keep those Keets off the board, but they found ways to put up runs after the 3rd and utilized a deep and talented pitching staff that collectively threw lights out until we managed a much too little and much too late rally.

Final Score
Drag – 7
Keets – ∞ (or thereabouts)

03.09.2024 – East Austin Ramblers vs. Cap City Cobras @ Govalle – 3pm

Link to Instagram post.

I hobbled to this game using a fungo as a walking cane. I felt old. Real old.
But that doesn’t matter because The Ramblers got a 3pm start time against the Cobras, the weather couldn’t have been better, and all involved knew it was going to be an outstanding time.

To keep this short and sweet–
The Cobras controlled both sides of the the game, but both teams kept it a party.
Memorable highlights included The Ramblers’ birthday gal, Katie Coyne, completing an impressive double play at shortstop and The Cobras’ Tucker hitting a no-doubter long ball to right center.

The final tally ended up being:
Ramblers – 37 Original Coors
Cobras – 52 hot dogs

03.23.2024 – Austin Drag vs. ATX Roadrunners @ Govalle – 11am

Link to Instagram post.

This matchup has been dominated by rainfall + rainouts. On this particular Saturday however, we actually got to get this game in.
Now I’m not included in these pre-game, high-level negotiations, but it’s my belief that the first two-thirds (six innings) of a sandlot game should be capped with a 5-run limit.
This is for a few reasons– pitchers’ arms, catchers’ knees, whatever spectators’ entertainment, and our collective sanity.

Is this how “real” hardball is played?
No, but “real” or “consequential” baseball passed most of us long ago. The five-run cap keeps the game moving and preserves the potential of an actual close game in the later innings. Who gets excited about an 18-6 ballgame?

It was reported that The Drag brought up utilizing a cap (that was declined), then The Drag had themselves a substantial rally in the bottom of the first. Before that though, the top of the first provided just about the oddest play at the plate I’ve ever seen. And the poor umpire must’ve seen… something entirely different than what occurred on the field.
The runner didn’t do anything in poor form (they were just playing the game), but there was some significant contact with Catcher Simon “Big Cat” Hilsman before the runner arrived at the plate, and part of the contact was Big Cat’s glove with possession of the ball and… there really wasn’t a quality ruling or explanation of what The Man in Blue saw. Runner was “safe” and the game moved on.

Oh well. So it goes. We, more or less, laughed it off (everyone except Keith).

The bottom of the first provided our biggest rally… since… ever? We often play with a cap, so it’s not often that rallies seem to stretch out before a team like the first day of a sixth grader’s summer break.

After the big first inning, both teams sort of settled into cruise control and just allowed the innings to melt away. The entire Drag lineup hit for the whole game. The defense turned two nifty doubleplays. The pitching was steady.

The Keets and Cobras had the 3pm Govalle timeslot. They wisely decided to host a crawfish boil during their game. At some point during Drag vs. Roadrunners, I began thinking more about mudbugs and less about baseball. For this injured player, crawfish was far more tangible than using a healthy knee for rewarding activities. Crawfish and beer it is.

The Drag and Roadrunners game cruised to the conclusion most had following the first inning.
The Keets and Cobras provided an exceptional Sandlot experience of quality ball and outstanding times.

The final tally ended up being:
Roadrunners – 9 bags of seeds
Drag – 19 pounds of crawfish

Post-game notes: Didn’t we have ourselves a day? A solid Drag contingent celebrated the incredible day by taking in libations at the bleachers while enjoying Austin Sandlot at its finest, The Keets + Cobras, as our anticipation for crawfish mounted.
RJ was holding court. One Georgia Peach got her Saturday afternoon goin… we were all cuttin’ up. It was great. No other way to spend a perfect Govalle Saturday.

***I shot three rolls of 35mm film that I’m excited to post as soon as they’re available.***

What is Sandlot?

G1 – 03.03.2024 – East Austin Ramblers vs. Yall’s Texas Tallboys @ Govalle – Noon
G2 – 3.03.2024 – Austin Drag vs. Town Lake Nightcrawlers @ Govalle – 3pm

I’m grateful to be able to spend a considerable amount of time away from work playing very recreational and social baseball. On this day, I got to play a doubleheader.

Some time (perhaps too much time) has passed since these games took place and these thoughts are finally making their way to the page. Though I’m slow to the draw here, I hope to keep the streak alive of writing/covering these games that I participate in.

Game 1
Instagram post for first game.

Tallboys put an early 5-spot on the Ramblers in the bottom of the 1st. Understandably, they collectively took their foot off the gas. The Ramblers, however, put together a few small rallies plating a some runs here and there, but never really running away with a giant offensive explosion.

After 5 innings, the score was 5-7 (or thereabouts) in favor of The Tallboys and the demeanor of the game was as friendly as could be. Gaston came up to bat for the Ramblers with two runners on in the top of the 6th and hit a go-ahead 3-run bomb that shifted the tenor of the game quite a bit.

Obviously, nobody wants to lose, but some recreational ballplayers seem to be more affected by competition than others. Personally, I’m happy if I’m able to make a play or two in the field as well as barrel a ball or two at the plate all while seeing my teammates, friends, and opponents enjoying this incredible and entirely meaningless game. Apologies if that seems sanctimonious, but I believe that’s more or less what this unofficial “league” is about.

That said, after Gaston’s 3-run go-ahead dinger, the feel of the game shifted and many of the “happy to just be playing ball” attitudes shifted to “we gotta fucking win.” And that’s cool… and somewhat expected, but it also turned into chatter about which pitchers are balking, people began putting unnecessary pressure on volunteer umps, and… so on and so on.

No matter. No worries.
To elaborate for clarity, late in the game, there was a bang-bang play at third base. A Tallboy was picked off second as they broke towards third and slid hard into the third. There was contact, there was a tag, the volunteer ump had a less-than-good perspective on the play… and people didn’t seem particularly pleased on either side. Shotgun concessions were lobbied, balk accusations were repeated, a call was made, and the game played on.

You know, baseball resonates with us for so many reasons. One such reason is because it’s a game where, at the college level, small schools can beat big schools, and, even at the major league level, the team with the lowest payroll can steal a game (or even the World Series) from the team with the highest payroll (and presumably most talent).
The phrase “you can’t win them all” arguably applies more appropriately to baseball than any other game. Nobody runs the table (feel free to compare win percentages across sports and leagues).

On this particular day, The Ramblers were able to steal a game they trailed the first six innings of, but that’s baseball. Never try to tell Yogi Berra he was wrong.

Game 2
Instagram post for second game.

This league is definitely one of the most inclusive communities I’ve ever been a part of. That acknowledged, I understand that folks should be able to cut loose whatever way they wanna.
My caveat to this kiddie-gloved preamble is– whenever I’m in a mostly Caucasian (and somewhat dorky) space and someone puts on tunes by Slim Thug (or other similar performers), I nearly instantly feel like I’m inside Weird Al’s “White and Nerdy” music video.

That’s definitely a me problem. Maybe that’s something I’ll get over?
This is coming from a guy who could never understand why “Get Low” was so damned popular during the bulk of his twenties (obligatory link). Anyhow, this league is partially responsible for helping an old man understand that folks should get crunk whatever way they most authentically feel like getting krunk/crunk/qrunk. Only one life to qrunk.

Do we play baseball?
Oh yeah. We do. Not to omit facts, the game’s music also featured a Miles Davis track, some reggae, some metal, and sort of ran a goofball gamut. Us oldsters can go with the flow and try to not make such a damned stink even if James Brown, Lighting Hopkins, John Prine, and the like are my preferred baseball tunes.

The theme for The Drag during this game was the ladies truly coming through big time. Every lady recorded a hit and played very well in the field. Not only that, but the “bottom [of the lineup] fed the top.“

This write-up can’t go any further without describing The Town Lake Nightcrawlers’ lefty slugger hitting an opposite-field dinger. I’ve been playing sandlot for awhile now, and that was the first opposite-field no doubter I’ve seen. Pretty darn impressive.

Other than that, The Drag’s pitching was consistent, our defense didn’t shoot ourselves in the foot, and the lineup (other than the #4 hitter) produced all the way up and down.
The Drag got out to an early lead that was never relinquished and I believe it was an overall damn good time.

Also, check out these outstanding photos that Annie McArdle took during these games!

 

 

 

 

 

View this post on Instagram

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A post shared by Austin Photography (@anniemcardlephotography)

Went to Austin Film Society a few times recently.

Eyes Wide Shut
Screened 12.29.23

Mostly due to it being nearly impossible to produce original critiques about any Kubrick film, I generally don’t jump at the chance to write about them. That said, after making it a point to see his pictures in theaters, thoughts do come to mind.

This isn’t a revelation, but Kubrick makes BIG pictures. There are no small characters, small lines, small shots, small ideas–  everything is BIG. They are are philosophically big, laced with meanings, and definitely up for interpretation.

Awhile back, I saw Lost Highway (David Lynch, 1997) at AFS and thought it was a little on the disappointing side because it seemed as though an old man (Lynch) who had a hand in tilting pop culture towards something darker in the 80s and early 90s, was now reveling in the fact that the 1997 “mainstream” was overtly reaching towards depravity. It felt, at best, like a victory lap for Lynch, or at worst, a reminder to everyone that Lynch was the bellwether of the dark provocateurs that had captured so much of the late 90s mainstream (Marilyn Manson, Rob Zombie, etc).

Similar criticisms about Kubrick and EWS don’t ring true to me. This isn’t just an old man making his most sexually explicit film. This is more about making a film that floats around themes of (in)fidelity, (in)security, hierarchical rumors, possible conspiracies / cultish elite groupings (more on that) and shouldn’t be thought of as a desperate yawp from a dirty old man.

Having first seen it in the early 2000s, then once or twice in the two subsequent decades, this was my first time to see it in seven years (or so). Watching it with a 2024 perspective makes one draw some conclusions that might require a tinfoil hat and a penchant for conspiracies.

Important to note–  I’m not prone to connecting dots that aren’t there. But I find it hard to watch EWS and not draw parallels to so many of the things making headlines today (most obviously– powerful elites involved in sexual acts that have grave consequences).

Anyways, perhaps EWS is only a reimagined adaptation of Arthur Schnitzler’s 1926 Freudian novella Traumnovelle (Dream Story in English) as the director claimed? Perhaps Kubrick heard some whispers about powerful people and decided to make a film about it? Hell, there’s even a storyline involving a father selling/pimping his young, very-underage daughter to foreign businessmen. Make of that what you will.

To remove the tinfoil hats and brush the conspiracies and cult behavior aside, we’ll return to the movie. Since Kubrick is regarded as a perfectionist, it’s strange that he allowed his actors to repeat the questions asked of them on four separate occasions. It’s the kind of weak improvisation or even weaker writing to have characters repeat one another like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar kind of way.
When Tom Cruise is said to be a terrible actor, I have previously attempted to offer roles where, at one time or another, I felt like he did something more than bring his forced gregariousness and transparent charisma to the screen. Roles like he had in Collateral, Jerry Maguire, Magnolia, and EWS previously came to mind, but I’m guessing that Kubrick wanted an actor with this type of specific, aggressively flaccid charm to counterbalance the dark and sinister film’s ecosystem.

In retrospect, this film can hardly be offered up as a defense to the acting talents of Tom Cruise because his performance is quite honestly the film’s low point. That’s saying something considering the film is about a whole mess of terrible things (pedophilia, an HIV+ diagnosis, drug overdoses, rampant destructive orgies, etc) circling around the two main characters (Kidman + Cruise).

It’s not an easy watch. I don’t feel the need to watch it again. The main thing that changed for me after watching this film across three different decades is how it has an entirely new meaning after 2019’s headlines.

Speculation and conjecture to tether the subject matter to current events, sure. But, if you give it another go, I’m guessing you’d see it from a new perspective (or at least a perspective only a limited few had upon its release).

Zone of Interest
Screened 1.25.2024

*If you’d prefer to skip past as disapproving of a review as I can write and move onto a glowing review, here’s your chance. Skip now to Wings of Desire.*

I’m rarely blown away by cinema. My experiences usually ebb and flow from “bad” to “not-so-bad” and “pretty good.”
When a film does hit incredible notes and I’m enjoying each scene, character, cut, musical accompaniment, and I am totally fulfilled by a cinematic experience, I take note and try to examine how exactly that happened.

In 2019, I experienced this with Jonathan Glazer’s Sexy Best (released in 2000). Based on that, I have given Glazer’s subsequent films (Birth, Under the Skin) an enthusiastic watch and have been disappointed each time.

To describe Zone of Interest succinctly–  ZoI is a study on the banality of evil. A depiction of the home life belonging to Rudolf Hoss, the commandant of Auschwitz.

To elaborate, we’ve all seen WWII/Nazi pictures before, but this film’s denouement is the most dissatisfying I’ve ever seen. Perhaps that’s the point?
This film is without a protagonist.
There is not a single character or motivation to root for.

We’re provided depictions of various levels of villainy– from Hoss’s wife trying on a fur coat whose rightful owner is, presumably, a recently murdered/gassed/incinerated Jewish lady to the Hoss’s conducting familial affairs while thousands of innocent people are systematically scorched per day (nearly 10,000 per day) a few hundred feet from where the principle characters conduct their lives and fight to remain in what they refer to as their “dream home”– it’s a despairing cavalcade of evil.

It’s hard to see a film with this subject matter and not unfavorably compare it to something like Schindler’s List, but where SL showcases exceptional care for story, characters, meaning, and payoff– ZoI replaces those with a sterile technique to further beat into the audience just how disinterested Glazer is in crafting narrative. Much like Glazer’s past two films following Sexy Beast, Glazer isn’t interested in character/story, he just wants to flesh out ideas on screen. Which is fine. It’s fine. They just feel more like video exercises than narratives. 

I’m only looking for something to provide me with an explanation of what contemporary art/award-seeking cinema is trying to be. I’ll be writing more about this soon (I saw Poor Things recently), but I find contemporary art pictures have become, pardon the updated vernacular here, the equivalent of doom scrolling for the entirety of a feature-length film.

Are we trying to make our films feel similar to scrolling social media? This cannot be the goal, but it often feels like that’s exactly the film’s goal.

I’m not asking for rose-colored pictures where everything is perfectly peachy and hunky dory. Hell, my favorite films don’t have happy endings, but they’ll at least feature a journey that I mostly support. I’m only asking for the screen to provide me with a reason to vest my interest and have hopeful concerns.

However, when it comes to Rudolf Hoss and ZoI, I enter the film already believing him to be an evil Nazi, and though I’m provided a glimpse of the squabbles he had with his wife and the corporate maneuvering of the Nazi party before many of the top officials met their neck-breaking noosed ends, I’m not at one point drawn to care about this picture.

There is zero dimensionality to anybody on screen.
There isn’t a meaningful conflict (the presumed conflict is “how does this family function when there are rigidly scheduled horrors occurring 50 feet from their home?”).
Unless you are creepily into what Nazi families’ lives were like as they were profiting from and contributing to a heinous genocide, I do not understand how this film could captivate anyone.

Prior to the screening, I thought the motivation behind making this picture would be to put the audience in an uncomfortable position of “this is a family drama with heartfelt moments except… they’re Nazis so any of the ‘Golden Rule’ lessons that parents teach their children is entirely hypocritical because… they’re Nazis so, audience, how about you go ahead and chew on that discomfort for a while?”

Admittedly, neither my prior expectations or the actual film proved to be any good.

My recommendation is to skip this one.
Watch Europa, Europa; Schindler’s List, The Pianist, or any other WWII picture if you’re feeling like a WWII picture.

If you’re looking for a video exercise and dramatization of the banality of evil, perhaps ZoI is the one for you.

Wings of Desire
Screened 2.9.2024

For all the times I discuss the importance of a properly-weighted Three-Act Structure, this film is an exception. It wonderfully plays out in two halves.

The first half shows us the reverence two angels, Damiel and Cassiel, have for the life they’ve observed since time immemorial. Most importantly, what they’re witnessing presently.

Set in Berlin in the mid-1980s, 40-ish years after WWII, Berlin is indeed a sad place. Aside from a Holocaust survivor’s thoughts that the angels listen in on, the film doesn’t directly focus on a nation that’s attempting to turn the page on the atrocities staining their previous generation(s), but there’s an overarching feeling of sadness and isolation to the picture (plenty of scenes include the Berlin Wall).

This film reminded me so much of Robert Altman’s Nashville. I wrote about how that film did a remarkable job of capturing the 1970s Middle American zeitgeist. Though I didn’t personally experience USA’s 1970s or Germany’s 1980s, these two films seem to capture a collective consciousness of these times and places.
That alone is a success. Many artists and journalists aim for that and miss.

The first half reminds us that even when lives are tough, or we feel beatdown, downtrodden, that life is worthwhile. These aches, pains, failures, and emotional let downs are a part of life and that life itself is far better than the alternative. Apparently it’s even better than being an angel whose only function is to observe.

And that brings us to the second half where Damiel decides to trade in his wings and finally get to experience life instead of devoutly manning his lifeless post.

After Wenders perfectly exhibits how difficult human existence can be, he exceptionally flips the narrative to show just how fortunate we are to have these burdensome lives.

I know this sounds hokey, but this dichotomy of “aren’t we lucky to be able to experience the complications and sorrow of humanity?” isn’t an easy story to tell, but Wenders does it without pretension and without being corny.

For as many films as I’ve been watching lately that depict a never-ending stream of two-dimensional hate-worthy characters, it was so refreshing to revisit a film where compassion is felt for nearly every character. It’s been too long since I actually wanted to learn more about a narrative world. At 127 minutes, that’s certainly enough movie, but I still feel like I wanted to spend even more time with these people. Like the angels, I wish to personally be able to wish them well. I’m motivated to have hope for these fictitious characters. For as difficult as it is for me to catch myself actually being inspired by “stories of humanity,” this film is inspiring; it’s an unmitigated success.

There aren’t many films that I can give this recommendation, but– if you’re ever at a very low place, give Wings of Desire a shot.
It’ll provide some perspective and hope.

Admittedly, this review is hokier than the film.

I was asked about “top” or “resonant” films. It struck me that I really haven’t written about Brando’s work. Most notably:
On the Waterfront (1954)
Streetcar Named Desire (1951)
Last Tango in Paris (1972)
Apocalypse Now (1979)

The friend who made the inquiry, Jo Munto, and I agreed to omit obvious choices like Godfather because they’ve been churned into critical mulch by now, and not that the above films are “deep cuts” by any measure, but I’d say most people under the age of 50 have missed them. Which is to say, with the exception of Godfather, most people under 50 have likely missed Brando (crazy).

I’ve recently revisited all of the above films listed (within the past two years or so). An omission I’m unable to write about are the forever-linked films The Wild One (1953) and Rebel Without a Cause (1955). Brando isn’t in the latter, but it’s hard to speak about one without the other and watching both is on my to-do list.

Back to Brando. There are plenty of texts, videos, essays, video essays, about Brando and “method acting.” Most people interpret it as though an actor becomes so comfortable/intimate with their character assignment that the performance becomes paramount. Performance becomes more important than cameras, script, or anything that’s been predetermined.

That’s a very simplistic version of the technique, but with Brando being one of the innovators, it becomes clear that he values being totally comfortable within his assignment that he eventually blends himself into his biggest roles. I would never say that Brando, Nicholson, Daniel Day-Lewis, or anyone who has been labeled as “method” actors, believe their vision is more important than any writer or director, but more that they believe the project is a collaboration and that they should be allowed the opportunity to positively contribute, even slightly alter.

Take for instance Matt Damon recounting this Nicholson story during The Departed.
This isn’t to say that any performance where an actor feels comfortable enough to take pretty big liberties with the scripted character qualifies that performance or technique as “method,” but it is a touchstone indicator where actors began to feel that these characters belonged to them as much as any writer or director.

I’d like to imagine that an understanding writer/producer/director/casting director/etc believes they select talented people who work collaboratively to make the absolute best work of art (I know that’s a simplistic + optimistic viewpoint). And for the times a fan reads that Brando, DD-L, or whoever may have been a “pain” to work with was only experiencing the pains of collaboration. Admittedly, that could totally be white-washing many of these actors’ on-set behavior (primadona or otherwise).

All of this said, On the Waterfront is exceptional. There is the interesting wrinkle that OtW is a response to 1952’s High Noon where Gary Cooper portrays a sherriff who’s compelled by their own sense of duty to face down a gang that is returning to town for retribution. In short, the film is about standing up for “what’s right,” even in times of crisis or danger. Many felt it was an analogy for standing up to the HUAC (House Un-American Activities Committee) and not naming names.

Conversely, OtW is about Terry Malloy (Brando) who was more or less set up by his brother to do a terrible thing for a crooked syndicate. When the entirety of the situation is made clear to Malloy, he proceeds to cooperate with authorities and reveal what he knows about a predatory, rigged system.

In production, execution, editing, acting, every aspect– both are all-timers; more than worth your time. It’s another example of how masterfully art can present both sides to what one might think is a zero-sum issue, and come away understanding how both perspectives have truth to them. Screening those in succession might lead someone to believe that most issues aren’t boiled down to something as simplistic as “100% right or 100% wrong,” but, depending on any individual’s value spectrums, just to what extent is something more right or more wrong.

I find it difficult to talk about Brando without bringing up On the Waterfront and it’s nearly impossible to bring up OtW without mentioning High Noon.

I’d honestly post links to specific Brando scenes from OtW if I didn’t think it’d somehow ruin the experience of watching the film in its entirety. If you wanna spoil it for yourself, you can find the scenes where Brando flirts with Eva Marie Saint, gives his “I coulda been a contender” speech to his brother, or when he goes toe-to-toe with mob boss Johnny Friendly (played by Lee J. Cobb); or you could screen the movie and enjoy a film that changed acting forever.

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I shouldn’t have to spend much time on Streetcar Named Desire. It’s a thing where you either appreciate Tennessee Williams or you don’t. If you haven’t exposed yourself to anything Tennessee Williams, well… you should. Williams’s fiction does tell a particularly monochromatic story, but that doesn’t mean it’s without truth, complexity, or drama.

And what actor brings truth, complexity, and drama to the screen better than Brando?
Nobody.

Brando makes scripted performances feel very much unscripted. It’s not simply little tricks such as talking over another character or being bombastic– he transforms. Like Miles with his trumpet or Hendrix with his Stratocaster, he plays himself into these characters in ways that most successful actors are incapable of doing.

Onto Brando’s Stanley Kowalski–
You know, many act like the concept of “anti-hero” is somewhat new. Nope. It didn’t begin with Walter White or Don Draper or Tony Soprano or any 90210 cast member or Don Corleone or any representation of Scarface or Kerouac’s Dean Moriarty or any of James Cagney’s characters or Twain’s Huckleberry Finn or any American character for that matter.
I know there are centuries between these artists, but we can look to Homer, Cervantes, and Shakespeare and find many antiheroes.
That said, it’s near impossible to be as simultaneously magnetic and repellent as Brando is as Kowalski.

He’s selfish, brooding, cocksure, stubborn, and doesn’t have time for all the bullshit that his wife’s sister, Blanche (played by Vivien Leigh), injects into his home. As mentioned by his repellent nature, Kowalski handles Blanche’s extended visit despicably, but, pardon the cliche, it’s a car crash we can’t look away from.

SND is perfectly crafted storytelling by Tennessee Williams that’s masterfully executed by Brando and cast. If that doesn’t compel one to watch the movie, I’m not sure what will.

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Brando, who had fought to be anti-authority in the 1950s had seemed to lose that battle much to his own personal troubles and succumbed to regarding acting/Hollywood as just a job to pay the bills and he subsequently became a working stiff unable to inspire the public.
So strange for a man who had such a hand in building a counterculture in one generation to be regarded as a lousy, two-bit, over-the-hill companyman by the next.

Luckily, Francis Ford Coppola came calling and offered Brando the Godfather role provided he didn’t thwart production as he unfortunately had done during a few projects in the 1960s. Brando’s Godfather experience, more or less, reignited something in him where he felt motivated to work on an experimental project with Bernardo Bertolucci– Last Tango in Paris.

The film isn’t without bad press, was scandalizing at the time, and has only aged poorly. The main reason people find it distasteful is that both the lead actor and director manipulated the young, impressionable lead actress, Maria Schneider, into participating in simulated acts that weren’t scripted. Most notably, a rape scene.

These aren’t the scenes that I’m thrilled by. What does intrigue me are the scenes where Brando injects his personal childhood experiences into the Paul character, a monologue beside a corpse, and a scene between Brando’s character (Paul) and Paul’s wife’s extramarital boyfriend.

The film is also a lesson in desire and how sometimes passion wanes once advances are not just accepted, but wholly embraced. The immature, but all too common belief that the “chase is more thrilling than the actual prize.” Clearly, it’s a complicated film, but interesting nonetheless.

I understand the film’s criticisms range from outrage to advanced concern, and those criticisms may outweigh some incredible scenes, but those incredible scenes do still exist.

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For as sprawling and spiraling as Apocalypse Now‘s narrative is, the film anchors on Brando’s performance as Colonel Kurtz. It’s a long film that winds its way for 90 minutes as Martin Sheen tells us about this mysterious Kurtz. Then Brando shows up and surpasses everything we could’ve presumed.
It’s incredible.
Again, I would link clips to specific scenes, but they’d either spoil the plot or would take the air out of your experience if you haven’t seen it.
YouTube some scenes if you like, but I believe you’d be much better off giving this film 150 minutes of your time.

Sandlot Baseball – an inclusive recreational adult baseball league that has been described as “Little League for Adults” and “baseball mediocrity on the highest level.”
This unofficial association of social baseball is growing rapidly across the country.
I’ve been playing Sandlot since 2018 and writing game logs since August 2023.

11.4.2023 – Austin Drag vs. Austin Yardbirds
@Govalle – 7pm

Link to instagram post.

There are many reasons for a five-day delay in the publishing of this log. Some personal, some professional, but mostly, this delay is because this specific game’s subject matter is so far removed from what we’ve become accustomed to experiencing.

Our league is often described as an “Adult Little League” (at least that’s how I often describe it). The pitching is a little wild, swings are a little loopy, fielding is a bit shaky, baserunning is always iffy, and the officiating is often questionable. But that’s the league we play and that’s the league we love.

On this particularly cool and terribly humid evening however, Steven Carrizales elevated the entire tenor of the game. Squaring up against the Yardbirds– who most regard as the “best/most skilled” team in Austin Sandlot (or at least the team with the most dangerous lineup), Steven didn’t take a single misstep. I’ll have to check with the [non-existent] official scorekeeper, but the only runner allowed in the first four innings was due to an error.

The man flat-out pitched. He didn’t overthrow. He didn’t just throw. He purposefully pitched. And it was impressive to see him flummox a team that rarely sees an “L” next to their name and damn-near never experiences five consecutive innings of shooting blanks.

Generally speaking, your average sandlot pitcher’s mentality is, “don’t issue too many walks, hopefully the defense will help you out, and hopefully we only give up 3-4 runs after pitching 4-5 innings.”

Warming up against The Yardbirds definitely alters that mindset. The expectation shifts to, “absolutely don’t walk anybody. Try to keep it in the yard. Hopefully it’ll only be 6-7 runs scored after throwing 3-4 innings and maybe our bats get hot too.”

If each of those Ybirds haven’t won a HR Derby contest, they swing the bat and carry themselves as though they have. For context, I wasn’t aware that seemingly accomplished grown men could get cocksure and heated during a liquor-sponsored wiffle ball tourney, but you live to see all kinds of things.

With all of this context, we got to see our Southpaw turn them into just another goofy ragtag sandlot squad. Forget believing these guys to be sandlot’s 1927 Murderers’ Row, these dudes were just like any other quirky, silly sandlot squad complete with players who just bought their first baseball glove six months ago.

After being tempted to refer to scenes from For Love of the Game, or another baseball movie, I thought this sentiment from Paul Newman as pool shark Fast Eddie Felson in The Hustler was most appropriate. 
Nobody is just one singular thing, but it’s a reminder that when things are going good, and you’re performing at the best of your ability, we should take satisfaction in that. And we got to see one of our own perform perfectly within the framework of Sandlot against not just any average sandlot squad.

Too bad there was still another three innings to complete after Steven faced his last batter.

How’d the rest of the game go?
Rickner followed up Steven’s best outing of the season with Rickner’s worst. Apologies. I very much wish that I was sharp, but I wasn’t. I put runners on. I didn’t throw strikes and I frustratingly squandered the advantage Steven’s hard work put us in. I didn’t have it.

But, collectively, we battled. Our bats weren’t dead, but they weren’t incredibly explosive either. Keith manufactured a few runs. Stillman continued swinging a hot bat. Luke barreled a ball or two. Rickner got hit by pitches in consecutive ABs while also hitting a sac fly to center and a single down the third base line. Big Rig made his comeback. Regardless of any specific outcome, everyone put together some great ABs.

Note:  whenever pitchers do well, I’m aware of how important it is to throw some recognition towards the catcher– like QBs/RBs do for their offensive linemen.
That in mind– RJ, attaboy. Helluva job back there. Seriously. You caught an incredible game.

Keith relieved me from the mound after I was only able to record three or four outs while giving up too many runs. He finished off the game as consistent and steady as ever.

Remember how sandlot is “Adult Little League”?
I stand by that. As a collective league, many of our clubs may lean a little heavy on the social aspects and less on the between-the-lines hardball aspects. Each organization has their unique proportion of social club to ballclub. This only adds to the overall experience.
And, on a limited basis, with baseball innately including its fair share of pageantry and fanfare, it sometimes feels like there’s a cosplay element to all of this as well.

This is all well and good.
Everyone seems to get whatever they want, whatever they’re looking for, out of this league.
That’s about the most positive thing to maintain and continue to promote.

With all of that said, if The Yardbirds would ever be accused of cosplay, it’d be cosplaying as a hard-nosed, tough-as-nails, honest-to-God, good God-damned legit Ballclub within the lowest-level-recreational, non-competitive adult social sport league anyone could ever imagine existing.

Regardless of how the final three innings played out, the “win” was seeing Steven excel against those fellas for 5+ innings.

Final Score
Drag – 10
Yardbirds – 12

Sandlot Baseball – an inclusive recreational adult baseball league that has been described as “Little League for Adults” and “baseball mediocrity on the highest level.”
This unofficial association of social baseball is growing rapidly across the country.
I’ve been playing Sandlot since 2018 and writing game logs since August 2023.

10.7.2023 – South Austin Lovejoys vs. Austin Drag
@Govalle – 11am

Link to instagram post.

The Day/Weekend’s Austin City Limits + Red River Rivalry/Shootout (OU vs. UT) made it difficult for many sandlot teams to fill out their rosters. It’s as though some teams’ organizers/planners don’t look at event calendars when they’re booking sandlot events. I say this because for the 11am game, the Lovejoys were only able to field five LJ players (+ some pickup sandlotters). However, thank goodness we (the Drag and LJs) made it work, because this evening’s 7pm game featured six Roadrunners showing up to the Govalle to do some BP because the ‘Keets had to unfortunately cancel due to lack of available players.
Obviously, that sucks because people arrange their weekends weeks, months ahead of time and canceling baseball for reasons other than weather is bunk (imo). Players could plan time with their families or book a gig or… whatever. I’m bummed for the Roadrunners, but they clearly made the best of it.

Anyhow, even if the five LJs had to recruit one Tallboy (Sully), a Dragster volunteer (newcomer Mike) and his buddy who had only planned to spectate (Connor, I believe his name was), as well as require one Dragster to fill their 9th spot defensively (usually RF), I’m grateful that we got a game in. Even if it sort of goes down in the non-existent record book as a “forfeit/loss” for the LJs, I’m happy baseball happened.

So, that said, keep in mind that the LJs eight-player batting lineup included five-ish “dangerous” hitters and three-ish maybe not-so-dangerous hitters. Their defense included an accurate, rubber-armed pitcher (Collin) who went the whole game and rarely issued walks, their captain (Trey) was playing out of position behind the plate (clearly not an experienced catcher), and Dragster newcomer Mike held down shortstop for the LJs while making some pretty impressive plays.
Okay, enough about them.

We had 12-13 or 13-14 (Harrison left early) total players and our batting lineup ran 12-13 or 13-14 deep (we didn’t sub in and out of 10-person batting order).

Everyone got PT and everyone got ABs.
With the weather as incredible as it was, the fact that we were playing a ragtag group in a game that was technically a predetermined “win” for us, and included a fairly goofy umpire that I’d never seen before, we all seemed a bit lethargic.
I’d say there wasn’t a collective focus about performing particularly well. Everyone simply seemed content to not be sweating through their uniform two minutes after putting their spikes on. That seemed to make everyone happy enough.

For instance, we defensively had runners on first and second– a groundball was hit to Braden at second. He fielded it cleanly but then threw wide to Nick at SS. The runner broke for 3rd as Nick collected the ball and fired a low strike to Rickner at third. This should’ve had the runner dead to rights, but Rickner didn’t catch it cleanly. On a play where the Drag had an opportunity to get the same runner out twice, we failed. The very fortunate runner remained at third base.
When we say things like, “we get to feel like kids again,” I guess that also means trying to see how many errors we can pack into what should’ve been a routine doubleplay ball.
RJ (catcher), as he’s wont to do, throws out a snarky comment, “Good job defense!”
Thanks RJ.
Funny thing is, baseball is a karmic game, and the next hitter hits an easy chopper to Rickner (third baseman). The fortunate runner foolishly broke for home. Rickner throws a ball that hits RJ’s catcher’s mitt, but RJ somehow found a way to apply the tag to the fortunate runner without securing the ball first.
Runner is safe. RJ is the chucklehead.
Keith’s anger becomes apparent as he dials it up and strikes out the next one or two batters and the Drag defense gets to vacate the field.

With the Drag having a rough defensive sequence or two and with the LJs playing an assorted collection of players, most of whom were playing out of their normal positions, many runs were “gifted” or unearned. Safe to say, it wasn’t a clean game.
But it was a great damn time. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. The entire field’s collective attitude couldn’t have been better and it seemed as though everyone was truly happy to be at Govalle and playing ball in most favorable weather instead of the hellacious temps we’ve been battling for five plus months now.

About the ump– he was a goofy, stubborn, inconsistent old man. Some innings looked like he was giving Keith a very friendly/large strike zone. Then, sort of randomly, his zone would shrink and the calls that were strikes in innings 1-3, all of a sudden became balls in innings 4-9. 

Ump was a nice guy, but I got the feeling that this was his first day doing sandlot and he wasn’t quite sure what he was getting himself into. ***There’s a story or two about the ump during the 3pm Ramblers-Nightcrawlers game.

If memory serves correct, Keith had just about enough of the ump and asked Marc to come in at some point in the 7th. Marc got us out of the 7th. Threw a clean 8th. And then ran into trouble in the 9th.

I believe Stillman hit his 2-run BOMB in the 6th. It was a great shot; squared up perfectly. The type of contact every hitter hopes to make.

Rickner hit his 2-run double down the leftfield line in the 8th.

We took the field in the top of the 9th with a small lead and Marc on the hill. He got two outs, but lost some of his control/command and we found ourselves with a 2-run advantage as the LJs loaded up the bases.
We made the pitching change and we were very lucky that it only took two pitches to get the final out.
I say lucky, because Rickner’s second pitch was belt high on the outer part of the plate and their cleanup hitter fortunately got a little too under it and hit a pop fly to rightfield that Ash, who had been playing great defense all game, was able to get under it and secure the game’s final out.

Final Score
South Austin Lovejoys – 10
Drag – 12

Post-game chatter:
Most Dragsters went to Central Machine Works to watch UT snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

I stayed behind for the 3pm Ramblers-Nightcrawlers game.
***The story about the ump and game was the continued strikezone inconsistency as well as ANOTHER controversial infield fly rule. I swear, during all sandlot captains’ meetings- it should be determined and agreed upon what that rule is, and then effectively communicated to the ump how and when to enforce it.
For these contentious disagreements to happen as often as they’re happening is pretty darn goofy to me.

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10.21.2023 – Austin Drag vs. Los Yonke Gallos de Marfa
@Parque Vizaino (Marfa) – 5pm

Link to instagram post.

Different towns, teams, and organizations do things differently. This is a “no duh” observation.
At the risk of throwing around Goldilocks-ish criticisms, we’re all learning a bit more about what to expect when traveling for Sandlot.
Regardless, you’re reading for a recap– so here goes.

We hit the ball. An inning didn’t occur where we didn’t plate at least one run. We scored 23 runs in only 6 innings of play (18 outs). I’ll answer why we only played 6 innings later.
Granted, this wasn’t a never-ending succession of frozen ropes, but everyone was making good-to-great contact and the not-particularly-sharp-fielding continued to help our rallies keep moving.

Many of the notable hits came from the ladies– Ash, Mel, Katy, and Bethany all struck the ball very well. There were definitely some authoritative drives out there.
For the fellas, Keith hit well from both sides of the plate. Newcomer Colin had some great line drives. Hobson, Waterman, and Rickner all contributed to the hit parade as well. When the offense doesn’t seem to stop, everyone seems to contribute.

Defensively, Jeff looked great on the mound. He had great command for the most part as he overcame a hometown ump who was doing his part (by helping his buddies) to keep the game relatively close as well as overcoming a shortstop (ahem, your humble recapper) who only seemed able to cleanly make half the plays that came his way.

As far as individual defensive plays go, Keith, who caught the whole game, made the most remarkable play by hustling a surprising distance (Vizcaino Park is well known for an enormous amount of foul territory, especially behind home plate) to make an incredible underhand snag on a fouled pop up along the very deep backstop’s fence. It was easily the most impressive play of the day.

I’m sure I missed many things, but I was trying to aid my personal disappointment in my singular poor play as well as the fact that I broke my favorite bat on a crummy swing on an even lousier pitch, as well as my slight disappointment in how the game was going overall (here comes the Goldilocks part).

I get that Marfa is a small community and that many Marfans recently went through a similarly taxing weekend gauntlet like ACL with TransPecos. It was revealed to us Draggos/Dragsters that the Yonke Gallos were a little light on numbers due to injuries, roster turnover, and a few other factors.

With that in mind, it became clear relatively early that with every walk, error, extended rally… this game was not going to be finished before sunset.
We were informed that many of the Gallos had work and other responsibilities earlier that day so– them’s the breaks.

However, an odd turn of events happened in the bottom of the 6th. Jeff’s curveball ran out of bite and his fastball ran out of gas. And somehow, even with the sun falling below the horizon, the Gallos began hitting the ever-living crap out of the ball. It made me think these guys would fare better at the plate if they wore Skywalker’s Blast Shield Helmet during their PAs (jokes).

Sure, that Skywalker crack is a joke, but I have no way to explain how they struggled to square up the ball until the sun went down. They ended up putting up 7 runs in the bottom of the 6th (only 1 run in the previous 5 innings and that run certainly wasn’t earned) by repeatedly peppering the leftfield line in the worst visibility. 

I guess that’s baseball.

Goldilocks critiques:
You always hope for a close, fun game.
If you can’t have a close game, hopefully it remains a fun one.

There is nothing truly noteworthy to report, but a few of their players (like, basically two that I observed) were expressively not happy with how the game was playing out and that’s fine. Nbd.

But, maybe we could’ve had an earlier start time? It’s 14 hours of driving over a 60 hour timeframe. It’d be cool to get 9 innings in, but “you do what you can” and show gratitude for the opportunity to play at someone else’s park; someone else’s home.
I can’t imagine that playing a full nine would change the outcome of the game, but it’d mean more baseball for everybody and that’s the primary purpose of the trip.

What are the secondary purposes of the trip?
Spending a significant amount of time with teammates while camping under the Marfa Lights, eating an otherworldly $3 pancake, ordering cocktails from establishments you wouldn’t normally go to (a karaoke joint), experiencing abstract art with people you wouldn’t normally expect to, sliding into a cowboy pool hot tub at 3am then Balmorhea Pool nine hours later, sharing 14+ hours of discussion during a damned-interesting road trip, sharing in a very important and meaningful toast with exceptional teammates and some very friendly Gallos, and simply getting to enjoy baseball and community, all while escaping Austin for two fleeting days.

And so often, those secondary purposes outshine and have a much more lasting effect than the primary. That’s the point.
We went on a baseball trip.
And baseball arguably wasn’t anywhere close to the best part of the trip.

Final Score after 6 innings (cut short due to light/visibility)
Drag – 23
Los Yonke Gallos – 8 

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10.29.2023 – Ft. Worth Panthers vs. Austin Drag
@The Longtime – 10:30am

Link to instagram post.

Rickner– out of town for a wedding.
All I know is that everyone had a good time and that it rained quite a bit.
Possible entry from another Dragster coming.

Final Score
Panthers – 8
Drag – 20

Sandlot Baseball – an inclusive recreational adult baseball league that has been described as “Little League for Adults” and “baseball mediocrity on the highest level.”
This unofficial association of social baseball is growing rapidly across the country.
I’ve been playing Sandlot since 2018 and writing game logs since August 2023.

9.16.2023 – Austin Drag vs. ATX Roadrunners
@Govalle – 11am

We’re at the point of the year where Govalle looks more like a beat-up elementary schoolyard and less like a baseball field. Regardless of the field condition, we all have to show up and figure out how to plate more runs than we allow.

There’s no reason to rush to judgment here. We only played half a game and I’m sure both teams felt like they were equally in a strong position to win it. As it was, the weather had different plans.

That said, scoring four runs in four innings aint bad. Offensively, I believe we only had one inning without flow or baserunners. That happens at all levels of baseball.

Defensively, I only remember a single solidly hit ball by one of their lefties. Outside of that, we were clean except for an inning where we decided to give the Roadrunners five or so outs. That allowed them to plate four runs in the third.
I specifically remember helping the Roadrunners by rushing a throw from third and sailing it just out of Luke’s reach at first.

Conversely, our situational hitting was better. When we had runners on, I remember a handful of ABs that netted us some much-needed runs and it felt like we were moving in the right direction offensively.

But, yeah, unfortunately, there’s not much to report.
Right as it began to feel like a really great game was developing, we experienced dark skies, competing fronts, and eventually a shorter than hoped downpour (just enough rain to cancel baseball, but not the deluge we’re all awaiting). These are the less-talked-about gifts that baseball provides its congregants– patience and character-building.
These situations make us heartbreakingly aware that even with preparation and planning, no one can will the weather. We can’t always get what we want– even if that’s something as wholesome and fulfilling as baseball.

Important to note–  I wasn’t thrilled with how the game was called. It felt like the ump knew Keith had better command overall, so Keith wasn’t getting strikes called around the knees (there were at least two I remember), but the opposition’s pitcher (a nice dude named Zach) got at least three shin-high pitches called for strikes.
Oh well. No scenes were made.

From my experience, calling balls + strikes behind the mound makes deciding if they’re too far outside or inside fairly easy. However, it’s a little tougher deciding if they’re too high or low. Anyways, if I were to nitpick the man in blue, that’d be it. Nothing worth going beyond a slight grumble about.

A few of us got to enjoy some inclement weather drinks with the Roadrunners at Central Machine Works. I’ve always assumed they were nice guys and, after a few beers, that assumption was verified.

Score after 4 innings (about 75 minutes)–
Drag – 4
Roadrunners – 5
Rain + cool front – 0.5” of rain (about 35 minutes)

Both teams hope to complete this game in the nearish future.
Let’s get as much baseball in before the year ends.

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9.28.2023 – Austin Drag vs. Oak Cliff 86ers
@McCree Park (Dallas) – 4pm

Link to instagram post about Dallas trip.

Acknowledgement of my bias– I don’t like Dallas.
I believe it’s important to note just how much I dislike Dallas. As much as I love Texas (and I really love Texas), I realize it’s odd to dislike Texas metropolises as much as I do (and I really dislike our big cities).
Though I have decades of experience planning, organizing, promoting, and hosting ultimate frisbee tournaments (some with 300+ participants), I have yet to do any “hosting” for sandlot. However, I have been lucky enough to experience the hospitality of exceptional communities like Tulsa + Lockhart (and some not particularly great hospitality of places like San Antonio).

Not having been involved in any communication leading up to this roadtrip (I’m grateful that’s not on my plate), for comedic purposes, I’m guessing the conversation(s) leading up to this two-day event four hours north of Austin would’ve sounded something like this [note:  these convos didn’t actually happen– this is just a goofy Rickner dramatization]:

Oak Cliff + River City Honey Busters Organizers
Hey Drag and Tallboys! We’re pumped to have yall up for a couple of games at the end of September. We’re just hoping to run a few things by yall.

Keith + Risto
Cool.

OC + RCHB Organizers
Our field situation is a little bit precarious.
How cool are yall with, maybe, having to change field sites, on like, a one-hour notice?

Keith + Risto
Like… what?

OC + RCHB Organizers
Nah, I mean, like, we’ve got fields. We just don’t know which fields are going to be available until it’s gametime or whatever. Maybe, like, it’ll be the morning of or something.

Keith + Risto
Alright. I mean, I guess we’ll be sandlotting it up.

OC + RCHB Organizers
Cool. Thanks for being really cool about that.
How do you guys feel about umpires?

Keith + Risto
It’s better to have them than to not have them.

OC + RCHB Organizers
Okay, well, the thing about that is… we just don’t have them. Ever.

Keith + Risto
So… okay?

OC + RCHB Organizers
But it’ll be alright, we’ll just use our catchers to call balls and strikes, fair or foul balls, force and tag plays, and just… kind of do everything required of both a catcher and an umpire. 

Keith + Risto
Is that how yall normally do it?
Also, about fair or foul balls, are your fields lined?

OC + RCHB Organizers
Nah. I wouldn’t expect any lined fields.
I mean, it’s basically just this neglected community softball field that is totally ungoverned and without any type of league affiliation so… it sort of serves as our de facto home.

Keith + Risto
Ungoverned?

OC + RCHB Organizers
Yeah. I mean, it’s cool. But let me ask you this, what are your thoughts on fences or pitching mounds?

Keith + Risto
At a ballpark? Those are kind of pretty big ingredients of what makes a ballpark a ballpark.

OC + RCHB Organizers
Rad. Totally. Well, thing is, we don’t have those either.

Keith + Risto
Alright. This will truly be a… sandlot experience.
But, hold on, just so we’re all on the same page here– yall are inviting two teams to drive up that pain-in-the-ass I-35 corridor for upwards of four hours, do the best they can to navigate the oddly difficult Dallas-area accommodations in a fairly vague area of the city because you’re not truly certain about where the games are going to be played and once the games are going to be played, there won’t be an umpire to help officiate and move the games along while doing their best to call a “fair” game?
Are we clearly understanding everything that comes with your invitation?

OC + RCHB Organizers
Well, sort of.

Keith + Risto
Oh, my bad, did we accidentally leave out a mention of a kick-ass pool party, barbecue, or something like that? 

OC + RCHB Organizers
Yeah, no. Nothing like that is gonna happen.

Keith + Risto
Huh. So what are we missing?

OC + RCHB Organizers
Well, depending on which field we play at, we’re gonna institute some oddball ground rules that we’ll communicate to your team, but then not do an effective job at communicating those same ground rules to our players so there will be moments of confusion and you, the visiting team, might have to explain and re-explain our ground rules to our own players.

Keith + Risto
Huh. You guys sure do know how to Dallas.
Cause, with each layer of your Dallas onion revealing itself, this is sounding more and more like Dallas.  Honestly, the only way it could get more Dallas is if every single one of yall drove your Suburbans and F-150s directly onto the field, spilled out your blue jeaned and camo’d children– Liam, Troy, Harper, and Elijah onto the lawn, as well as your dog named Aikman, and forced them all to play tackle football in the outfield during our game.
Well, anyways, seeya in the morning.

OC + RCHB Organizers
Tight. We’ll bring the footballs.

Okay, so I’ll put down the snark for awhile and point out that, collectively, we had an outstanding time. Regardless of the apparent lack of planning– the games, as well as the whole trip, were a tremendous amount of fun.

I know I just said that I would drop the snark, but shit continues to pop up–  we, The Austin Drag playing in Dallas, had no choice but to be the home team. Why? Well, the 86ers’ catcher’s gear didn’t arrive until 4:35pm (game was scheduled to begin at 4pm) and around 4:20pm we simply said we’ll take the field and start the game as the home team and hopefully the 86ers’ catcher’s gear arrives in the next 10-15 mins.

First batter for the 86ers is this athletic kid. Probably in his mid-20s. Keith was clearly getting adjusted to this oddball, transportable, wooden platformed artificial mound. Around the fourth or fifth pitch of the AB, the kid hit the bottom half of a high fastball to left field. Now, this ball carried a bit, but the ground rules we were told was that a fly ball that lands beyond the light poles in the unfenced outfield is an automatic home run. From my perspective, it was kind of difficult to determine if this ball landed past the lights or not, but the kid was fast enough to get around the bases before we really got the ball in anyhow. Pseudo homerun to start the game.

After that, Keith found his groove, the defense avoided any type of disastrous inning, and the offense was steady. Tyler was all over the basepaths. Keith hit the farthest ball I’ve seen him hit. It landed well, well beyond the lights. Simon was great at the plate as well as behind the plate (he had this badass tag on a botched relay that ended up working in our favor).
We had this cool fella named Brian (from the Sheeple), help us out with catcher’s duties behind the dish. Waterman and Braden both played well at short.

Defensively, once again, we were unable to catch an infield pop-up while the opposition had two runners on. Without an ump though, there really wasn’t a disputed infield fly call and all that happened is that we were able to convert a force out. No big deal.

Without any fences, the Tallboys began setting up their lawn chairs, coolers, and such in the foul territory near third base, and late in the game, a popup was heading their way. I gave chase and got to complete a play that wouldn’t have been possible in a fenced-in situation. I kinda, sorta got to dive over a wheeled cooler and through some occupied lawn chairs to snag a ball.
It was nothing like this, but allow me to think for a second that it was kind of like this.
That was fun.

Offensively, they threw a soft-tossing lefthander that took us a few innings to adjust to his style. We eventually hit their pitching with the power we were expecting, but it just took us two innings to adjust and produce. 

Keith pitched a complete 7-inning game from a strange, narrow, wooden platformed “mound” that required implementing ground rules such as, due to not being able to safely perform a pickoff move from that tiny wooden mound, there could be no steals and the runners were only permitted to take a “two-step lead.”

So, again, just a weird thing that it never really seemed that everyone was on the same page about.
I did have one strange conversation with an 86er who made it seem like he’d never heard of his own team’s ground rules we had been playing with for six innings at that point.
It was weird. He acted like we brought these ass-backwards rules up from Austin, which, I suppose–  Dallas is just gonna Dallas.

But, in the end, no big deal. We more or less controlled the entire game. The defense + pitching barely bowed and certainly never came close to breaking. 

Final Score
Oak Cliff 86ers (away) – 5
Drag (home) – 12

The catcher’s gear delay ate up a possibility for an 8th or 9th inning because the 7pm game couldn’t be pushed back any later.

Post-game chatter:
We’ve all traveled in professional, social, or non-familial groups before. And, I guess one thing worth pointing out is how Dallas can bring out the Dallas in just about anyone.

I’d say our team has a wide-range of personalities and tastes, but only Dallas could have our team debating about eating at Texas Land & Cattle (that was certainly named and chosen as the joint for the majority of Dragsters), Buffalo Wild Wings, or Chili’s (I can’t really remember what was competing against TL&C, but they were definitely chains). So, I say again, Dallas is going to Dallas.
Luckily and thankfully, Ash and Katy were as opposed to those suggestions as I was and we found a unique joint called Lakewood Landing. We had a pretty damned great time before Ash and I cruised for roach motel options before Katy saved me from a night on the streets (thank you!).

Anyways, Dallas will give you 100 options, and 99 of them will be Wal-Mart, Taco Bell, Subway, Texas Roadhouse, Red Lobster, and the like. 

Well Dallas is a rich man with a death wish in his eyes
A steel and concrete soul with a warm hearted love disguise
A rich man who tends to believe in his own lies
Yeah Dallas is a rich man with a death wish in his eyes

---

9.29.2023 – Austin Drag vs. River City Honeybusters
@McCree Park (Dallas) – 11am

With the RCHBs having brought all the lumber to Saturday evening’s game vs. The Tallboys, their offense looked a little on the depleted side when we eventually faced them midday Sunday. My guess is that they had 5-6 “heavy hitters” on Saturday night and about half as many made it out for Sunday’s game.

But, you know, that’s adult recreation. Each game has its own unique lineup. Sunday was a Dallas Cowboys gameday and… Dallas is gonna Dallas.

That acknowledged, Steven took a little bit of time adjusting to the mound but controlled the game as we were able to navigate through the first five or so innings without defensive disaster. Offensively, please allow me to indulge myself in hyperbole, but our lineup decided to transform itself into a Who’s Who in Baseball Lineup and just about barrel everything that was thrown anywhere close to the plate.

Other than a game or two at The Longtime, I don’t believe I’ve seen five dingers out of our lineup before. It was pretty great seeing our bats let loose. Simon, Keith, Steve, myself, and RJ (aka “Tugger” or “Tuggernaut”) all hit roundtrippers. Tugger’s was a Grand Slam while wearing shin guards.

All in all, we plated 24 runs. Two dozen. And this wasn’t due to a ton of walks issued by their pitchers or a ton of errors on their side, we just flat out hit on Sunday. It was a ton of fun.

Defensively, Ash made the play of the day with an incredible grab in left. She tracked and covered a ton of ground to make an impressive, outstretched, tumbling catch. Braden also had a sharp play or two at short.

Steven, more or less, pitched in cruise control as our offensive runs steadily came in and our defense didn’t do anything memorably negative to throw him off his rhythm. Just solid six innings by him.

I came in to pitch and was wild in the 7th, threw a clean 1-2-3 in the 8th, and it took either 7 or 8 batters to get our three outs in the ninth.

Final Score
Drag – 24
RCHBs – 12

If you haven’t already heard RJ’s “tugger” story, I’m sure you will soon.

I forgot to mention–
The field we were originally “scheduled” to play on was occupied by a men’s league Sunday morning. So, we reversed course and returned to the field that we played on Saturday.

Sandlot Baseball – an inclusive recreational adult baseball league that has been described as “Little League for Adults” and “baseball mediocrity on the highest level.”
This unofficial association of social baseball is growing rapidly across the country.
I’ve been playing Sandlot since 2018 and writing game logs since August 2023.

9.4.2023 – Austin Drag vs. Austin Grackles
@Historic Down’s Field (Austin) – 10am

Link to instagram post.

If our individual motivations for being Dragsters in this kooky sandlot league (scene? community?) were broken down into pie charts that visualized our value scales, perhaps many of ours would be equal parts community, camaraderie, friendship, plus throw-in some [mostly] friendly and inclusive hardball. For others, maybe a large portion of the pie chart is indeed dedicated to community/camaraderie/friendship, but possibly leans a little heavier on the fact that it’s adult recreational baseball that comes with only a faint whiff of this type of bullshit as opposed to many other hardball leagues where toxicity seems to range between commonplace and rife.

In any event, us Dragsters are all here for the same reasons, but the weight of those reasons vary from teammate to teammate.

First things first–  Historic Downs Field. What a park? To be able to verifiably do anything at the same location as Satchel Paige, Buck O’Neil, and Willie Mays is incredible. When it comes to historical baseball stories, I’m reminded of what the Tigers’ broadcaster said leading up to Tiger Stadium’s final game:

Ernie Harwell, the team’s beloved broadcaster for 42 seasons, famously remarked that if he could take one artifact from Tiger Stadium, it would be the urinal in the visiting clubhouse. Everyone from Babe Ruth to Mark McGwire used it, and Harwell hoped to put it in the garden and use it to hold roses. (Shockingly, his wife objected.)

Back to Downs.
That mound. That outfield. Those basepaths. Those toilets. They were all inhabited by some of the game’s greats. And we got the privilege to do the same.

So, the game?
I arrived early (8:30am) to set up the PA. Bo, the Gracks captain, arrived all of two mins before I did and claimed the first base dugout. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. In fact, I thought, “cool, we get to be close to the batting cage and restrooms.”
A little after 9:30am, the pleasant cloud cover broke and our dugout got ripped apart by the sun. It made many of us ask ourselves the question many ballplayers routinely ask themselves– “What Would Willie Mays Do?” 

He would figure out a way to not complain and be happy to play ball and take great satisfaction that he wasn’t at some lousy day job at that moment. 

Honestly, even though the dugout (the actual structure), didn’t provide a respite from the sun, we collectively did a good job of not bellyaching and played ball.

Is this the part where you talk about the game?
Look, because the game was included as part of a much larger event, each game is rigidly timed. That sort of means, to borrow a football term, there’s a “time of possession” aspect to a game that only provides 2 hours and 45 minutes to get in as much baseball as you can.
We’re not going to be given all nine innings to overcome any early deficits and those Gracks haven’t shown that they’re adept at giving up leads once they get them, so…

Going into the 4th, we were up 6-2 (or something like that). And that’s even with some miscues/miscommunications on our side. Even while not playing our absolute best ball, we were still in control. That felt good.

However, we collectively ran into a rough inning where Steven was making great pitches and drawing soft contact, but those weakly-hit pokes found some holes and the Gracks took advantage. 

I mean, no Dragster was happy with how the rough inning went, but I felt two conflicting emotions–  due to how our last game against the Gracks went at Austin High (we lost 10-1 where they were hitting everything, we were “okay” in the field, but, were lost offensively as a whole)–  I was happy we got out in front of them, but bummed that I could feel us losing this “time of possession” battle with each softly batted ball we couldn’t convert into an out.
There was satisfaction that at least we struck first, got out in front, but baseball is a humbling game and we were quickly humbled.
My arithmetic comes to 1 rough inning + 1 not-so-clean inning + 5 solid innings = 7 innings.
That’s how I remember it.

But that’s baseball when you play against a good squad. And those Gracks are good players with pretty damn good attitudes. Damn-near all of their players are dangerous at the plate, they’ve got quality pitching, and they do a good job of limiting their mistakes in the field. Definitely an incredibly solid sandlot club.

Dragsters absolutely made significant improvements compared to our last game against them.
We get one more opportunity against them (Oct. 28th) to maybe get that W or at least make it interesting all the way down to the final out of the game. Selfishly and admittedly, that’s what I’m chasing. If we’re all out here to play a child’s game and sort of relive our childhood in some varying capacity, doesn’t “2 outs, bases loaded, bottom of the ninth, down by 1” sound and feel better than “2 outs, nobody on, we’re down by 8, five mins left until we’re kicked off the field”? 

Regardless, I’m stoked for our upcoming schedule and I fully anticipate some loose games where we’ll be able to overcome some not-so-clean innings without too much trouble. But those dirty birds– the yardbirds, gracks, and keets– them birds just don’t wanna seem to let up if we give them a lead.

Good news! Offense looked good.
8 runs in 7 innings against a solid team ain’t nothing to sneeze at.
As mentioned in the groupme– great knocks by Hobson, Ash, Jeff, RJ, Stillsy scored 3 runs (maybe 4?). I forgot my lumber (sorry), but I won’t forget it next game.

An overall great experience. Downs is incredible. So happy we all took that field together again. Just a mild bummer that our first game there was heavily one-sided in our favor (vs. Ramblers) and we weren’t able to take our second game at that beautiful location down to the wire.
It’s obviously something that’s easy to get over, but I’m just chomping at the bit to play in an 8-7 game headed into the 8th or 9th. Anyone else miss that feeling?

Nevermind. I’ll sate those cravings with memories of Waterman laying out for a liner in left field at The Field of Dreams, shooting the ball to Braden who gunned down a Rumbler trying to score at the plate in an incredible one-run game that reignited all the exceptional things that I could have ever imagined baseball to be.

There’s no doubt more of those moments are right around the corner.
I can’t wait for all Dragsters to breathe them in.

Final Score
Gracks – 16
Drag – 8

---

^ Only photo I took from this game.

9.9.2023 – Austin Drag vs. Texas Tallboys
@Govalle – 7pm

*****NOTE: I originally wrote this game log on 9.10 and want to add that what follows are my thoughts the day after the game. Since then, I’ve seen the Tallboys play multiple times with exceptional sportsmanship, zero hostility, and straight good times. As always, I’m psyched to take the field with or against that squad. The following game log recounts a crummy situation that kind of snowballed.
Don’t be undude.*****

Anytime I feel critical of a person or situation, I refer to this George Carlin bit and reflect on it to ensure I’m not making the same mistake that George Carlin supposes we’re all guilty of making one way or another. Admittedly, this is going to be a critical Game Log (more on critical junk later).

The last time I started a game on the mound was mid-May 2002. It felt great toeing the rubber to start things off. Our defense was strong. Steven made some rangey plays out in center. Jeff did a good job at short. Katy made a solid play on a grounder at 2nd. RJ was as perfect as ever behind the dish.
Offensively, we just struggled getting timely hits. Myself and others hit well when nobody was on, but then struggled to make solid contact once we got a few runners on base. Excuses could be made (not adjusting to a starting pitcher’s style), or we could shrug our shoulders and say, “that’s baseball.” Honestly, I’m down with either.

I know sometimes my post-game reports can feel like Goldilocks and The Three Bears:  “This porridge is too hot. This porridge is too cold. / This pitcher throws too hard. This pitcher throws too soft.”
But the point remains that– be it golf, baseball, trying to learn a new language or instrument, whatever… if you only do something only 1-to-3 times a month, it’s going to be hard. Consistent success is going to be near impossible to get a hold of. We’ll enjoy the successes while understanding that we can’t expect it all the time.

That’s adulthood. That’s adult recreation. Whatever will be, will be. You get your reps in when you can and do your best come gametime.

There are no punitive stakes in sandlot. Nothing can be lost. There isn’t an elimination game. Only personal enjoyment partaking in a satisfying pastime and collective camaraderie can be gained…

…which brings me to sandlotters getting ejected from a sandlot exhibition (here comes the critical junk).
I can’t really make sense of it.

I’m going to acknowledge my partiality to this specific umpire. I like the guy. I don’t know him (I don’t know his name), but I feel he’s got legit baseball experience, he understands our sandlot league, and he calls a pitcher-friendly strikezone (which encourages the hitters to approach the plate with a free hacking mentality– exactly how sandlot should be).

Close game. 4-2 in the top of the 5th (maybe 6th). Marc is on the hill. Tallboys get runners on 1st and 2nd. Their hitter pops up somewhere between the pitcher’s mound and somewhere near the basepath between 1st and 2nd base. With runners on and the ball in the air, I could feel the question floating in the air whether or not the “Infield Fly Rule” was going to be called by the ump. Please pay special attention to the “Catchable by an Infielder” and the  “Ordinary Effort” sections of the linked article.

The term “ordinary effort” considers all circumstances, including weather, lighting, positioning of the defense, and the abilities of the players involved in the play. A pop up catchable with ordinary effort in Major League Baseball might not be considered as such in a junior high school game, due to the ability of the players involved.

Now, given that it’s very easy to lose the ball off the bat at Govalle anytime, and even with considering a few other factors, I was still a little surprised that we didn’t have a defender within reach of that ball as it fell towards the playing field, but the fact is that we didn’t have a defender with a good shot of catching that ball in the air and Braden expertly corralled it off the bounce and made a strong throw to third to get the force out. No harm done. No infield fly ruling was called/made by the ump.

Here’s where things get silly–  had a defender caught that ball (or if the ump ruled that batter out by enacting the Infield Fly Rule), the Tallboys would have 1 out with runners at 1st and 2nd. As it played out, Braden made the play off the bounce and the Tallboys had runners at 1st and 2nd with 1 out. So, nothing lost; nothing gained. For anybody. This non-call truly ended up not mattering.

But a few of the Tallboys wanted to throw some lip at the ump. There was a “you don’t know what you’re doing” feel to the vocal criticisms.
The ump was not happy about that. At all.
Some Tallboy decided to push a shit-talking ball of snow down a snowy hill and I became really curious to see how big it was going to get.

I pointed out to a few Tallboys that I didn’t think we had a fielder with a legit play on that ball. So, if I were an ump, it’d be difficult for me to enact the Infield Fly Rule. After those words fell on deaf ears, I just kept quiet and took in a scene that I never would’ve thought I’d see at the least competitive, most community-oriented, recreational adult athletic “league” that I could ever imagine being a part of.

A few insults were hurled towards the ump. He shot back by calling some of the Tallboys “scrubs” and proceeded to point out that no pop up in this league is a “sure thing.”
It was cringey. It was funny. Some of the dialogue was so corny it’d make the Pope weep. 

The delay was lengthy. I’m not kidding. I could’ve changed a vehicle’s tire in the time it took for the ump and the Tallboys to settle their shit. Other than my purposely brief words, Dragsters truly stayed out of it.

Baseball? Oh yeah, baseball.
So, runners on 1st and 2nd. 1 out.
The Tallboys were a bit amped after all the chatter and, if they had been playing it “cool” before, they were about to turn things up a notch. So, of course, the runner at 2nd broke for 3rd on the very next pitch. RJ made a perfect throw. Rickner applied the tag (maybe, just possibly a hair after the Tallboy had already reached base) but, of course, the ump had to let everyone know what was what and he emphatically let us all know that the runner was OUT at third.

2 outs.
Did we learn a lesson here?

Nope. Tallboys got to chirping again.
All the while, anyone with a team sports background or a basic concept of psychology knew exactly what was going on. And all the while, Steven stood hunched over in shallow center, his face aglow with that very specific cellphone glow that only happens when the Longhorns are putting it to Alabama on a football field four states away. Seriously, I think Steven caught more of the UT football game while in centerfield than he did while in the dugout.

I’m sure I’m missing some things, but that was the big thing. Of course the Tallboys weren’t happy with the strikezone. They didn’t chirp at us, but they were clearly unhappy with the ump. It was evident and it was interesting.

After that, the game was a bit awkward. The ump really would’ve rather been watching UT football. The Drag would’ve preferred to play a team that… I don’t know… could roll with whatever lumps one believes the ump is delivering and focus on the game. We would’ve preferred playing a team that understands that the game isn’t the final score. That how one plays the game is more important than how well they play it. That making your teammates happy is indicative of a good teammate, but leaving a good impression on your fellow opponents + competitors is the mark of a good sportsman (sportsperson).

Speaking of which, the Tallboys had a hitter who hit a pop up just in front of home plate. RJ (catcher) was under it. The hitter screamed at RJ as the ball came down. That’s not a favorable way to be remembered by an opponent. But some folks aren’t aware that this type of thing is considered poor sportsmanship and some folks don’t care (which is even more of a shame).

Anyways, Marc pitched outstandingly. His best outing that I’ve seen.
I remember us playing strong defense in the field until the unfortunate 8th. In the 8th, Keith pitched very, very well. The Tallboys hit some choppers that had a lot of topspin on them and we missed a few of them. Govalle ain’t easy to play defense on. While at third, I could’ve/should’ve cut at least one of those off, but I hesitated (and there’s a chance I might’ve biffed it as well).

The 8th inning was unfortunate in the field, but we left Govalle playing eight solid defensive innings while most everyone recorded a hit. To improve for the next game, we just gotta cluster those hits together while eliminating that one inning where our wheels fall off defensively and continues to be the thorn in our side.
That’s doable. For sure.

Ash went 3-4 at the plate, which was awesome. Happy she broke out with some solid line drives.

Like I said, most of the team got themselves at least a base knock. It seemed we always had runners on– we just gotta drive them in. We’ll bring’em on home next game.

So, why bring up the George Carlin bit?
There are times when I find myself thinking “Holy shit, that person is really freaking good (example:  the Tallboys have a player who was drafted into a Major League Baseball organization)– what are they doing out here at sandlot?”

And sometimes I apply that same line of questioning to some of our teammates and friends, but there’s not a hard-and-fast talent level that makes a player a sandlotter (or decidedly not a sandlotter).

To continue with the analogy, nobody’s talent is “driving too slow or too fast”– it’s whether or not their attitude/how they play is “too fast (or shitty, arrogant, discourteous, Bush League, etc)” to be at sandlot.

Now, I’m obviously not the arbiter of sandlot, but I do understand team sports/leagues, and it was my understanding that a player/team comes into this league knowing what makes this thing unique is that there isn’t this type of bullshit.
It’s a bummer that, as sandlot grows, that type of bullshit has percolated its way into some of the games here and there.

Final Score
Tallboys – 8
Drag – 5

What sandlot thinks tallboys are.
Two things I consider tallboys to be.