I had a great practice day today. I went to the field and I pounded the strike zone hard. I have made one mental adjustment. I am performing the following steps.
1. Upon motion, focus on target.
2. Place glove on target.
3. Attack target
4. Focus on target
The fourth step actually occurs during my release point, as well as after my release point. It's a way of tricking myself into avoiding the trap of overthinking.
I got kicked out of my apt. because some foreign lady wants to rent the whole thing out, so my landlady gently told me I had to move out by Friday. I was renting one room in a 3 bedroom apt, and the other two were empty. So I understand...she needs to make money. They reimbursed me and I found an even better place two houses down. I'm sharing an apt with a couple and a small massage parlor. The husband is American and his wife is Nica. They are buena gente and I have a much nicer room. My new place is actually a lot classier than my old one.
Now I'm at Big Wave Dave's working. Big Wave Dave is this sleazy Canadian expat with a mullet who married a Nica and has a bar down here. Man is he sleazy. He's consistently blasting classic rock, which is awesome, and he offers free wireless internet. He wears Hawaiian shirts. Did I mention he has a huge mullet? Business in the front, party in the back. Last night this washed up raunchy Southern guy named Jimbo came into the bar and "hired" me as his "technician." He gave me some Jimbo bucks for his bar at Playa Cocos in Costa Rica. When I do my passport run I'll spend my Jimbo bucks, I guess. Since my job is online, I'm here quite a bit. Will keep you posted.
Cheers,
-D
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
My First Outing---A Total Nightmare
Welcome, everyone, to my baseball adventures in Nicaragua. Its my intention to consistently post blogs and videos about my baseball experience here in Nicaragua.
I live in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua, a sleepy beach town on the Pacific Ocean. I believe I have found paradise. San Juan is gorgeous, and the people of San Juan have welcomed me with open arms (well, most of them.) They are so friendly and nice.
Every day, I take a cab to the Estadio Miguel Arana de Melendez to hone my pitching technique. It costs 20 cordobas, which is equal to one dollar. As some of you know, I am a submarine pitcher, which means I deliver the ball with an underhanded motion. This is a specialized form of pitching that deceives same-side batters (as I am right-handed, right-handed batters have a hard time seeing my pitches.) There are a few professionals who are true submariners, but not many. Check out Chad Bradford of the Baltimore Orioles, or Shunsuke Watanabe of the Chiba Lotte Marines to see examples of professional submariners.
When I get to the stadium, I set up my pitching target, which is a torn up, discarded piece of metal roofing on which I have spray painted a strike zone. I pour my baseballs onto the mound and fill my bucket with pieces of wood. Then I lean the target upon the bucket. Then, I jog around the bases 5 times, and do some stretching. After that, I throw about 100 pitches.
I have become friends with Lorenzo and Johnny, who are the two groundskeepers. Both of them have gold capped teeth. Lorenzo is a rustic, friendly fellow who walks and talks slowly. Once I get a camera I'll post pictures. Johnny is a punked out looking Nica, really short, and with a chip on his shoulder. At first, he didn't like me at all, but he has grown accustomed to my presence. Today he gave me a strange piece of fruit.
Originally, I had broken down my mechanics into three steps:
1. Focus on the target.
2. As I begin motion, place glove on the target.
3. Focus on the target and release the ball.
I thought this worked, but it turned out I was right about the first two steps, but wrong about the final step. I learned this after pitching in my first Nicaraguan baseball game.
On Sunday, I arrived at El Campo del Valle for my first game. Unlike the stadium, El Campo del Valle is a wasted, trashed out, filthy field with no backstop. It is located in the poorest outskirts of San Juan. I was scheduled to tryout for Los Veteranos del San Juan, who were playing against Mari Valle.
I have never encountered more hostility in my entire life. Almost everyone who attended the game gave me clear signals that they didn't like me and didn't want me there. I heard a lot of joking and laughing about my delivery. In addition, the manager didn't even want to put me in the game. Finally, in the last inning, with Los Veteranos leading 12-3, he put me in.
I was really nervous as I began my warmup. I threw well, and in my warmup I threw one wild pitch, and I heard the crowd go wild, heckling me. I tried to stay calm and shrug it off. The first batter stepped up to the plate. I threw two balls, outside. The umpire looked like a satanic monkey. Then I threw a beautiful strike, straight down the plate. From behind me, I heard the umpire yell, "MALA!" I looked at the umpire and said "No...fue buena!" That retarded monkey stared at me and smiled. I threw another strike. "MALA!" I couldn't believe my ears. Two strikes and he called them both balls.
The batter went to first base. I prepared to pitch to the second batter, but I knew that the runner was going to steal, so I disengaged from the rubber and went to throw to first base. I turned at just the right time, cuz the runner was taking off. However, my team was just standing around, completely unsupportive. The runner skipped to second and everyone howled with laughter.
My nerves started to shake. It seemed like no matter what I did, they wanted me to fail. Again, I turned to pickoff the runner at second, but my teammates just languidly looked at me as the runner ran to third.
I walked the second batter on four legitimate balls. The manager took me out of the game. It was the most humiliating experience of my life, but also, one of the most educational. I remember on my last day in New York, I had a dream that I was pitching well, but my team was making a bunch of errors. I think I had a premonition about this game.
I left the game dejected and depressed. However, my spirits quickly lifted after a nap.
Today, I went back to the stadium and I realized one major thing I did wrong. My third step shouldn't be "Focus". It should be "Attack." In other words, my new formula is
1 and 2, the same
3. Attack the target while looking at target (different than focusing).
I was able to throw much harder, and I feel more dominant on the mound. I also met a few guys who are interested in giving me a shot on their teams. William and Juan who play for Marsella Beach in the Nicaraguan Major A League have been watching me practice, and they approached me and asked me if I would be interested in playing. I think I am going to go after the Marsella team and win a spot with them. Also, I met Luis Cargamo and Allan, who are two classy guys who might be putting together a team.
I practice every single day for 2-3 hours. I feel like I am getting better, slowly but surely. I am so excited to get on the mound for my next game, though that won't be for a while. Meanwhile, I am working hard at my practice.
Thanks for reading, and I'll keep you posted a lot.
-Darius
I live in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua, a sleepy beach town on the Pacific Ocean. I believe I have found paradise. San Juan is gorgeous, and the people of San Juan have welcomed me with open arms (well, most of them.) They are so friendly and nice.
Every day, I take a cab to the Estadio Miguel Arana de Melendez to hone my pitching technique. It costs 20 cordobas, which is equal to one dollar. As some of you know, I am a submarine pitcher, which means I deliver the ball with an underhanded motion. This is a specialized form of pitching that deceives same-side batters (as I am right-handed, right-handed batters have a hard time seeing my pitches.) There are a few professionals who are true submariners, but not many. Check out Chad Bradford of the Baltimore Orioles, or Shunsuke Watanabe of the Chiba Lotte Marines to see examples of professional submariners.
When I get to the stadium, I set up my pitching target, which is a torn up, discarded piece of metal roofing on which I have spray painted a strike zone. I pour my baseballs onto the mound and fill my bucket with pieces of wood. Then I lean the target upon the bucket. Then, I jog around the bases 5 times, and do some stretching. After that, I throw about 100 pitches.
I have become friends with Lorenzo and Johnny, who are the two groundskeepers. Both of them have gold capped teeth. Lorenzo is a rustic, friendly fellow who walks and talks slowly. Once I get a camera I'll post pictures. Johnny is a punked out looking Nica, really short, and with a chip on his shoulder. At first, he didn't like me at all, but he has grown accustomed to my presence. Today he gave me a strange piece of fruit.
Originally, I had broken down my mechanics into three steps:
1. Focus on the target.
2. As I begin motion, place glove on the target.
3. Focus on the target and release the ball.
I thought this worked, but it turned out I was right about the first two steps, but wrong about the final step. I learned this after pitching in my first Nicaraguan baseball game.
On Sunday, I arrived at El Campo del Valle for my first game. Unlike the stadium, El Campo del Valle is a wasted, trashed out, filthy field with no backstop. It is located in the poorest outskirts of San Juan. I was scheduled to tryout for Los Veteranos del San Juan, who were playing against Mari Valle.
I have never encountered more hostility in my entire life. Almost everyone who attended the game gave me clear signals that they didn't like me and didn't want me there. I heard a lot of joking and laughing about my delivery. In addition, the manager didn't even want to put me in the game. Finally, in the last inning, with Los Veteranos leading 12-3, he put me in.
I was really nervous as I began my warmup. I threw well, and in my warmup I threw one wild pitch, and I heard the crowd go wild, heckling me. I tried to stay calm and shrug it off. The first batter stepped up to the plate. I threw two balls, outside. The umpire looked like a satanic monkey. Then I threw a beautiful strike, straight down the plate. From behind me, I heard the umpire yell, "MALA!" I looked at the umpire and said "No...fue buena!" That retarded monkey stared at me and smiled. I threw another strike. "MALA!" I couldn't believe my ears. Two strikes and he called them both balls.
The batter went to first base. I prepared to pitch to the second batter, but I knew that the runner was going to steal, so I disengaged from the rubber and went to throw to first base. I turned at just the right time, cuz the runner was taking off. However, my team was just standing around, completely unsupportive. The runner skipped to second and everyone howled with laughter.
My nerves started to shake. It seemed like no matter what I did, they wanted me to fail. Again, I turned to pickoff the runner at second, but my teammates just languidly looked at me as the runner ran to third.
I walked the second batter on four legitimate balls. The manager took me out of the game. It was the most humiliating experience of my life, but also, one of the most educational. I remember on my last day in New York, I had a dream that I was pitching well, but my team was making a bunch of errors. I think I had a premonition about this game.
I left the game dejected and depressed. However, my spirits quickly lifted after a nap.
Today, I went back to the stadium and I realized one major thing I did wrong. My third step shouldn't be "Focus". It should be "Attack." In other words, my new formula is
1 and 2, the same
3. Attack the target while looking at target (different than focusing).
I was able to throw much harder, and I feel more dominant on the mound. I also met a few guys who are interested in giving me a shot on their teams. William and Juan who play for Marsella Beach in the Nicaraguan Major A League have been watching me practice, and they approached me and asked me if I would be interested in playing. I think I am going to go after the Marsella team and win a spot with them. Also, I met Luis Cargamo and Allan, who are two classy guys who might be putting together a team.
I practice every single day for 2-3 hours. I feel like I am getting better, slowly but surely. I am so excited to get on the mound for my next game, though that won't be for a while. Meanwhile, I am working hard at my practice.
Thanks for reading, and I'll keep you posted a lot.
-Darius
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