Idiots Write About Sports

Saturday was a gorgeous day in the East Bay, as Ken Korach is wont to say. And the circumstances were lined up perfectly for me to take in an Athletics game — the team was in town, tickets were plentiful, my wife was otherwise occupied during the day, and I completed my assorted chores with remarkable dispatch. But our recently enacted policy of not giving the A’s any more of my money than they already have, I opted to sit this one out.

So what’s a sports fan with an entire afternoon on his hands to do? Why not take in a high school championship game being contested by the local nine?

I don’t attend as many high school games as I really ought to. For one, we have a tradition of turning out a player or two ‘round these parts. For two, the Hornets play their home games just down the street from my house. And, as may have become apparent, I kind of like baseball.

And yet, I don’t go, most likely because I fear stories like this appearing in the local fishwrap.

Local Man Enjoys Watching Teenage Boys

ALAMEDA—Wherever teenagers are engaged in feats of athletic derring-do, you’ll find area resident Philip Michaels skulking around the stands, writing mysterious things in his scorebook.

Police have promised a full investigation.

“We knew he was trouble when he had that Port-o-San delivered to his yard,” concerned neighbors said.

Nevertheless, whenever the local high school contends for the NCS/Les Schwab Tires Class 3A East Bay Championship, I must be there, regardless of what the neighbors might think. So it was off to Evans Diamond on the University of California campus to watch as the Alameda Hornets took on the Dragons of Bishop O’Dowd.

Before we get to the details of the game, a word about the facilities: Evans Diamond is wedged between Haas Pavilion, Edwards Track Stadium, and the campus rec facility. It’s not a bad place to take in a ballgame, but it is a wee bit cozy — the seats start right around the home plate area and curl up the right field line. There’s no seating on the other side of the field, save for a berm right by the third base dugout. They squeezed 1,821 of us into the stadium Saturday, and you really got to know your neighbor.

Also, there’s no covering to speak of, which can be problematic if you mind yourself attending a game at Evans Diamond on a day as sunny as Saturday. Even with a 4 p.m. first pitch, the sun beat down on us — kind of a bummer since I decided to go without sunscreen and the sun is my natural enemy. (“The game starts at 4,” I sneered, disdainfully tossing the SPF 45 away.) And so now, I am sunburnt beyond recognition — the most severe burn I had since the last time my wife left me alone for an afternoon. Takeaway lesson: I am next to useless without her.

And now, the game itself: I did not realize how much bunting there was in the high school game. Every time, someone got a hit — and there were 19 of them between the two teams — seemingly, the next batter squared around to bunt. O’Dowd started the game with a single to right field, a bunt that the Hornets misplayed into an infield hit and then a second bunt to advance those runners to second and third. Joe Morgan would have been squealing with delight.

Or, perhaps not. That first inning where O’Dowd had runners on second and third and just one out? They didn’t plate either one, thanks in large part to a ground ball to third that resulted in a fielder’s choice at home when the runner made an ill-advised break to the plate. An inning later, O’Dowd lost another run when in a one-out, runner-on-third situation when a botched suicide squeeze play became the rarely seen 2-unassisted put-out. Small ball is remarkably ineffective when punctuated by plays like that.

Alameda, on the other hand, took advantage of its opportunities. It scored its first run when wild pitches during the same at-bat advanced leadoff batter Weston Moyer from second to third to the plate. Its second run was set up when Devin Hobbs advanced by first to third on a passed ball. That same inning, after a throwing error that negated what would have been the third out, some timely Hornet hits — including the game’s only extra base hit — plated three additional runs.

Your final score: Alameda 7, Bishop O’Dowd 3, for the Hornets’ first NCS crown in school history.

Start playing that Kool & The Gang record… now!

We have, in the past, established my credentials for spotting burgeoning baseball talent (summary: I have no such credentials). So I can’t really report on whether you can expect to hear any of the names of the players from Saturday’s game called during this Tuesday’s Rule IV draft or whether they’ll be leading their collegiate team to the College World Series this time next year. I can tell you that Jordan Pries has generated some local attention, but only because I read it in the paper. Click on that link and you’ll find Alameda coach Ken Arnerich comparing the sophomore Pries to Dontrelle Willis at that age. (Lest you think Arnerich is speaking out of turn, he used to coach Willis at Encinal High across town.)

Jordan Pries, closing out the Dragons

Pries didn’t start Saturday’s championship on the mound, since he threw a 110-pitch shutout in the semi-final game on Wednesday. Instead, he started at second, but came in to pitch in the fifth, after starter Kenny Arnerich got into a bases-loaded jam after five-and-two-third innings of otherwise strong work. I can tell you, from my limited perspective as a talent evaluator, that Pries is as good as advertised… eventually. He walked the first two batters he faced, forcing in two runs and brining the go-ahead run to the plate. He struck that batter out on four pitches to end that threat, and then turned in an uneventful ninth (a one-out hit, but also two strikeouts) to salt away the championship.

Other notes and observations from an afternoon of high-school baseball:

• You ever see that South Park episode about Little League baseball where Stan’s father gets a little too into trash talking the fans of rival teams? There was nothing quite like that at Saturday’s game, but we had to endure a little bit more griping about close calls than I like to be subjected to. One O’Dowd fan — a man who looked to be in his twenties, so I’m guessing he’s a recent alum — would shriek at every ball-strike call that went against the Dragons. From my seat just behind home plate, the strike calls were a little inconsistent, but nothing worth calling in the state militia over. This young man, however, howled at each perceived injustice with more vigor than you would think a high-school baseball game might require.

In a way, I kind of blame the Bishop O’Dowd coach. There were a few close calls that went against the Dragons; the O’Dowd coach argued each one rather vehemently, storming out on to the field to dress down whatever umpire had wronged him. I’m not an athlete by any stretch of the imagination, but I wonder if that has an unwanted side-effect, making your players feel as if they’re being jobbed out of a win; it would certainly explain the preponderance of unforced errors on O’Dowd’s part. I do know it incited the O’Dowd fans to gripe at each and every call, casting a pall over an otherwise enjoyable afternoon.

Take this one play in the bottom of the fifth, when Alameda scored a run on a close play at the plate — the throw beat the runner, the catcher’s tag did not. “That was the worst call I’ve ever seen,” screamed an older lady seated next to me.

Madam, you haven’t lived.

• Alameda High, representing my current home town, won this year’s championship. San Ramon Valley High, my alma mater, won the championship two years ago. High schools hoping to contend for the Class 3A championship in 2008 are advised to submit their bids to me as soon as possible, since I’m apparently some sort of kingmaker.

We should get together and compare our pinkness. I, too, got burned to a crisp on Saturday. And I even remembered to put on sunscreen!

Also, next time you see them, tell the Arneriches that I'm tired of taking their phone calls.

"Information. What city please?"

"Alameda. The listing for Arnerich, please. Ken Arnerich."

"I have a listing for Ken Arneson."

"Aw, what the hell. Close enough."

And obviously, someone moved the earth far too close to the sun on Saturday, what with the rash of freak sun-burnings.

The following is a transcript of every other phone call I've received since Saturday:

"Hello?"
"Hello, may I speak to Ken?"
"This is Ken."
"Hey, wassup Ken, it's mumblemumblemumble!"
"Who?"
"Mumblemumblemumble! Howzitgoin'?"
"Do I know you?"
"Um, am I talking to the father or the son?"
"You have the wrong number, dude."
"Oh, sorry."

Hey man, great article on Alameda High Baseball. I love your site. Check out the articles on Alameda and a variety of other content I think you might dig at www.ponderthis.net It's a East Bay Area-based sports and general interest newsletter. Maybe you can write for it one time?!

P.S. My name is Kemp Moyer and I coach Alameda High Football, my brother Wes was the Alameda leadoff hitter.

Peace!

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