Section 47, row 5
Every pitcher that I ever had could paint the black - morning, noon and night. if they couldn’t, they wouldn’t where they were in the first place.
Zita’s memory of “Garcia’s pitching tonight”, reminds me of the devil getting his due.
I had a man who could literally … as we use to call it … “button your fly” with is location. Inside, outside, down, up - you name, he was a maestro on the hill. His only pitch selection was his fastball and off-speed with location.
However, even the best of them have their good days and bad days. One night - maestro had his one of his bad ones.
After the first inning, he was getting lit up pretty bad. Going into the second inning, our backstop starts off by sending the following signals with his fingers - four fingers, then seven fingers, then a wave of the hand, then five fingers.
After repeatedly shaking off sing after sign, the batter steps out of the box - not once, but three times. The plate umpire, who had a short fuse as it was with us, called time and had a few words with our backstop. The inning proceeds, batter gets into the box, again the signs, again the pitcher shakes them off.
Our skipper takes is hands off his hips, paces a bit, looks at me and says through his teeth … “get out there!”
Time is called, I walk out to the mound and greet the two with a " what’s going on guys?"
My man says he doesn’t understand the new signs.
“What new signs”, I ask?
Our backstop says, " just trying to make things a little easier for the guy. Since just about every other pitch he sent down in the first inning ended up in section 47, row 5, why confuse the guy."
So, no matter how good you’re hitting your spots or painting the plate, sooner or later your going to face a guy that’ll take every pitch in your bag of tricks, and park it somewhere near section 47, row 5, or somewhere close to that!