Sandlot Baseball Logs – 07.2024 – Part II
7.27.2024 – Austin Yardbirds vs. Austin Drag @ Govalle – 7pm
Instagram post about the game.
Yardbirds are a good team. They swing lumber. They put the ball in play. If you’re going to beat them, you’ve got to have arms (pitchers), and you can’t make mistakes in the field.
Our starting pitcher, Steven Carrizales, once again showed that he can compete against their tough lineup, but our fielding wasn’t sharp and our bullpen struggled with their command*.
The game remained tight after four innings, but the Ybirds opened things up in the fifth, and The Drag did our best to climb out of the hole we got ourselves in.
[*Here’s the asterisk*]
Everyone, more or less, knows what they’re getting and what to expect when Umpire Studebaker is plopping around Govalle. To be clear, an “ump” is better than “not an ump,” but it is fair to say that, as the game progressed, his zone got tighter. Just before sundown, I was pretty damn close to home plate taking photos and I had a front-row seat observing Stude ringing up a few hitters on pitches that were well out of the zone and off the plate.
Not to come across as whiney here (regardless of the strikezone’s size, we would’ve lost this game– that’s not the point), but as soon as that sun set, the zone did shrink (which didn’t affect the game’s outcome but it did prolong an inning or two). But, hey, who cares? That’s sandlot. And I’ll repeat this time and time again– I’m all for having a big strikezone. A big zone encourages hitters to be aggressive and keeps innings moving. Both good things.
Enough complaining. Baseball is baseball. Sandlot is sandlot. And Stude calling balls and strikes is still better than volunteer umps or player-umps, so, we’ll take what we can get. Even if some situations/calls look and feel a little strange, a little goofy (which, if I’m not mistaken, A Little Strange, A Little Goofy is the title of Stude’s memoir).
All in all, the game was a good natured, good spirited, good time. It’s a drag that The Drag didn’t play well, but that’s alright. We haven’t been able to put a complete game together vs. the Ybirds… ever, but maybe we’ll figure out how this fall?
Final score —
Yardbirds = 1.5 dozen
Drag = <1 dozen
Post-game Notes: I don’t care what RJ says, fernet is just a gussied up, rich man’s Mediterranean answer to Jagermeister. “Go ahead, it’s a digestif. It’ll help your tummy” says the bartender.
I was unaware that “digestif” meant that it functions as an ejector button for my organs.
My god, just a terrible idea to end the evening with fernet chunked on top of however many IPAs I consumed that day. I’ll take whiskey any day over fernet. Lesson learned.
Perhaps RJ’s in depth descriptions of his “morning constitutionals” and “scha-poopies” contributed to the ejector button activating? Regardless, the ejector button was activated. Never again.
Other sandlot photos (album link here):
