Hermie was the eighth batter on the Pups lineup, so he cooled off on the bench while the first three batters clad in yellow jerseys struck out.
The top of the second inning saw the Ponies manage one walk and three strike-outs amid several fouls. Then, during their turn at bat, the Pups offense was retired after two strike-outs and an easy infield pop-up. Still, Hermie was two batters away from making it to the plate to swing.
To start the third inning, the score at 0-0, Hermie realized that the Ponies were starting their second rotation as he had already faced all the batters once, so at the beginning of the inning he switched to pitching left-handed, the ball trailing down the chute from a slightly different perspective and a decidedly different angle, something new for batters to contemplate. The inning went quickly, with a strike-out, an easy pop-up to the third baseman, and another KO.
When the Pups batted in the bottom half of the third inning, the first would-be hitter grounded out. Hermie was next up and walked. Then on a wild pitch to the next batter, Hermie stole second base and made it to third after the attempted throw-out at second went afoul. His slide into the base, feet first, had been close as the ball arrived at just about the same time. It was the missed tag of the runner that made him safe. Eventually, however, this batter struck out, leaving one to go as the Pup rotation started again, Hermie eager to erupt toward home plate on a wild pitch.
Lead-off batter Chad Dickens was a problem for most pitchers in the league because he was one of few players who knew how to bunt successfully. Another advantage was that he was short, which lessened the height of the strike zone. A pitcher had a smaller target. On the second pitch, Dickens pivoted with his bat horizontal and tapped the ball down the line toward third base a little harder than he had intended. The third baseman ran up on it, saw that Hermie appeared secure on third, and ripped the ball to the first baseman in advance of the runner. However, the ball’s arch had too much power behind it and sailed over the first baseman who jumped for it, arms high above his head, and missed. Hermie scored, and the runner advanced to second base before the ball was retrieved near the Pup dugout. The next batter struck out, but the Pups had a 1-0 lead at the end of three innings.
In this league, the Pups and the Ponies were in the age group that played seven innings. In the event of a tie, two additional innings could be played, but the game would go down as a tie after nine innings if a team had not taken the lead.
As the top of the fourth inning began, Hermie stayed with left-handed pitching. The dreaded clean-up batter, Jason Garcia, was at the plate. He was an upper classman who played center field on defense where he carried the nickname of “Suitcase” because of the way he fielded the ball. He tended to capture balls hit to him with his hands over and under, much like a suitcase opening and closing. Rarely did anything get past him. However, his forte was batting. During inning #2 Hermie had struck him out, one, two, three, which angered Suitcase immensely, as he tended to at least hit a lot of fouls and had been unable to do so the first time up. Now was his chance to rein-in the game.
Suitcase fouled the first pitch, it hitting the fence behind the catcher. The second and third pitches were balls. The fourth pitch was fouled deep just outside the third-base line. The fifth pitch, however, resulted in a rainbow journey that was out of reach of the left fielder and nearly went over the fence, a fair ball. Suitcase was a fast runner and zoomed past first and second, then rounded third base, but changed his mind about heading for home when he was signaled by his coach to stay on third, since the ball had made its way into the infield.
The Pups had now entered the danger zone, with no outs and a portentous runner on third. The Ponies’ dugout went crazy with excitement. Then came a solid round of yelling and loudly chiding of the Pups pitcher. Hermie was a little shaken, but tried to remain calm. He did not know the first name of the next batter, but the youth was known as Killer Kilroy to little leaguers far and wide. He managed, on the first pitch, to tap a weak grounder to Hermie, who held the ball since Suitcase was threatening to run home. Runners were now on first and third, no outs.
Coach Livingston called time out and met Hermie between the mound and the dugout. “I think you should have thrown the guy out at first,” he said. “I know Suitcase is fast, but I don’t think he is that fast.”
“I just didn’t want to chance it,” said Hermie.
“We are kind of in a mess here,” said the coach. “How are you holding up?”
“Okay.”
Danny Colby had flipped back his mask and now joined them. The first baseman was wandering in their direction, as well. “You are throwing some good pitches,” said the coach. “Try to keep them low and on the outside corner. These next batters are not as good. Take a deep breath and shake it off. You know what you need to do.” He turned to the catcher. “Display your mitt a little lower and edge it to the outside, just a little.”
The conference worked. The next three batters went down, one, two, three, no fouls, only two balls, the rest strikes, four of which were swung at and missed.
The bottom of the fourth inning proved fruitless for the Pups on offense, although the second batter singled but was left stranded.
Hermie faced the last batter in rotation to begin the top of the fifth inning, again tossing left-handed, a sequence he maintained for the next two batters as well, all three of whom struck out. The Pups, now at bat, went scoreless during the bottom of the fifth, with Hermie also striking out.
The game was now down to two innings, six and seven, the Pups still leading 1-0. The first batter was third in the lineup for the Ponies, Jimmy Jefferson, also known as JayJay, who was one of the loudest among those yelling near-obscenities at the Pups. Again pitching southpaw, Hermie and the batter ran it to a full count 3-2, before JayJay walked on a questionable gray-area call that momentarily perplexed the umpire, putting a runner on first.
The next batter was Suitcase who had already faced Hermie throwing right-handed the first time, and then left-handed. Hermie decided to take him on right-handed this time. He removed his glove and slid it onto his left hand. His making the switch mid-inning caught the attention of the opposing coaches who couldn’t believe what they were seeing. The Ponies’ head coach, Peter Drake, hands on hips, was staring at Hermie, analyzing his every move. After the first pitch, a called strike, there was anger in his face. He took a step toward home plate, as if to call time out, but then abruptly stopped. He had decided to wait.
The second pitch was fouled down the right side of the field, pretty deep. Then came two balls, the count 2-2. The fifth pitch resulted in an infield pop-up, caught by none other than Hermie. Out one.
Suddenly, Coach Drake motioned for time out. He pranced onto the field and detoured to home plate to confab with the umpire. They talked a long time and were soon joined by Coach Livingston. At one point, Coach Drake pointed at Hermie who slowly started wandering toward home plate and was met by Danny coming toward him. He was holding his catcher’s mitt under his arm. “They are talking about you,” the catcher said. “We’d better wait here.”
“I know,” said Hermie. “There’s nothing in the rulebook about this.”
Angry looks were forming on the cheeks of people sitting in the stands. The countenances also displayed concern that something was wrong — very wrong, but they had not witnessed an infraction or injury on the field and were having trouble hearing what the coaches and officials were telling each other. What was going on out there?
Hermie was growing impatient himself, just standing on the mound where he and Danny were staring at the men whose discourse seemed endless. Other coaches had joined the men at the plate and it appeared a brawl might be in the making, which prompted the remainder of the Pup infielders to saunter to where Hermie and Danny stood.
Players for the final game of the night – the late game – had begun arriving in droves. Their fans were unable to find a place to sit in the stands until this game was complete after Pup-Pony fans would depart. T
hey were growing impatient. The discussion ended abruptly with Coach Drake shouting, “I’m going to contest this,” as he pointed downward quite hard with his right index finger several times. As the Ponies coach headed toward his dugout, talking loudly in anger to his staff, Coach Livingston came to the mound where Hermie and Danny were waiting for him, the rest of the Pups having gone back to their positions following a motion to do so by the coach as he was in stride.
“Here’s the deal,” he said. “The ump has never had to mess with a switch pitcher, so we argued regulations. He didn’t want to take time to rehash going over and over the rules since there’s another game right after us and we’re running late as it is. He wants you to choose a hand, right or left, and finish the game with it.”
Hermie was shaking his head. “No, that’s not what we agreed to.”
“Hermie, you don’t have a choice. It’s a chance we took. I knew that. But now we have to follow what the umpire wants and he wants you to choose. Otherwise we have to forfeit. He said he would call the game if we don’t pick one. I need to take him our decision right now.”
Feeling rejected because his strategy had turned to mush, Hermie asked the coach, “Do you have a preference?”
A few seconds later Coach Livingston replied, “I’d say right-handed. That arm’s rested some and is now hot again.”
So Hermie did it. To him, the remainder of the game was a let-down because both the home team and the visitors were playing under a cloud. Would the game be taken away from the Pups even if they won?
The Ponies felt they had been cheated, that a fast one had been pulled on them. A switch pitcher was something new. They had not tried to cultivate their own. It just wasn’t done. They wanted the game to start anew, without the influence of a switch pitcher. To them, Hermie should be permanently banned from baseball, at least for a long time.
As he pitched the remainder of the game, Hermie was beyond mere disappointment. He had a mild feeling of guilt for ruining the momentum of the game and was angry at the idea of not being able to pitch to the hilt, utilizing all his capabilities. He had been throttled back. He couldn’t play his game.
Additional scenarios were invading his mind, as well. What if he was in a game and his right-handed pitch wasn’t working but his left-handed tosses were? He would be conflicted knowing that he had to throw with his right when his left would produce more strike-outs. And what about his stamina? By splitting the pitches between two throwing arms, could he go more innings? He knew he could.
Some of his anger at the controversy was exposed in the remaining pitches of the match-up. He threw the baseball his hardest ever and with greater accuracy. Although the Pups’ scoring had ended, so had the Ponies’. The Pups won it, 1-0, and moments later the team posed for a photo with the championship trophy, aware that upon Coach Drake contesting the game in the days ahead, the trophy could vanish.
Leaving the field to visit the concession stand was difficult for the Pups as several Ponies parents sneered at the young players, some calling them cheaters. An episode of shoving among opposing players almost erupted into a fight, but was broken up by nearby coaches. The cloud had turned dark gray.
Chapter 6 —
And The Winner Is…
After the rules committee held an emergency called session the following Monday night in answer to Coach Drake’s challenge that had now been extended to include a challenge by the coach of the Ravens team, the Ponies vs. Pups game was ruled in favor of the Ponies “due to irregularities exhibited by the opposing team.” The last Ravens game was also called a forfeit. The Ponies would be advancing to the playoffs, with post-season action beginning on Friday.
Part of the argument in favor of the Ponies was that, overall, the Ponies were more of a regimented team, its players were perennial winners, and the team would likely perform better in the playoffs, especially since the removal of the switch pitcher element would dampen the abilities of the Pups. Too, the board feared that if switch pitching continued into the playoffs, turmoil would ensue and new chapters in the rule book would have to be written. Advice would come from everywhere, all in the quest to satisfy one single player and one single team. The new rule governing switch pitchers was that from now on a decision had to be made before the start of each game as to which arm would be used by that player prior to the submission of a batting order to the umpire by both sides. The pitcher could use that arm only, or the game would be forfeited.
Hermie’s father attended the session and argued loudly to the board members who were seated around a large table that this would inhibit his son from pitching his full range of throws and would greatly hurt his future development.
“A pitcher is a pitcher,” he said. “It doesn’t matter which arm he uses. In my son’s case, he can’t throw a knuckleball with his right hand and he can’t throw a curve with his left. He needs to be able to access both of these in a given game.”
He was interrupted by one of the board members, Jake Hornby, whose son once played on a major league baseball team in Pennsylvania. “I talked to my boy about this before the meeting,” he said. “In the majors especially, the question of how a switch hitter is to bat comes into play. He decides when going to the plate which it will be, left or right. This depends largely on whether the pitcher is a righty or a lefty. Now, this does not mean as much in little league, mind you, but players need to learn one rule and one rule only. We need to be consistent. In the majors, coaching staffs quite often make substitutions, too, based on whether it is a righty or a lefty on the mound.”
Mr. Brubaker took the floor again. “I understand, but from our point of view if Hermie begins left handed and is off his game, with this new rule he can’t switch. Mr. Hornby, your son has probably faced knuckleballers. They are usually on or they are off, hot or cold. What if Hermie injures one of those two fingernails during the game and cannot place the ball correctly? Then he’s just left with his fastball as a lefty. What if he starts a game right handed and develops an ache in his pitching shoulder or he is simply way off his game? Must he continue to pitch with that arm when the other one is fine? Maybe the rule should simply apply to a particular inning, not the whole game. Even that is a major sacrifice. Switch hitters don’t have to declare right or left before the game starts and they are not forced to bat left or right the rest of the game — they get to choose each time they are up to bat.”
Hornby interjected, “But they can’t switch during an at-bat. Look, I saw the Pups and Ravens play last Friday. Your son has one style of delivery left-handed and quite another right-handed. His wind-ups are different, he faces in a different direction. It’s like he is two pitchers.”
Coach Livingston tried to interrupt, but Hornby continued. “Imagine the confusion that would abound if a switch hitter comes to the plate to bat and the pitcher prepares himself to pitch with his right hand, so the hitter changes his stance, then the pitcher changes hands, then the hitter changes his stance again, going from one side of the plate to the other, an endless succession of changes and the game sits in limbo while each player is trying to outbid the other one. Some things have to be firm. The pitcher’s choice of which arm to use is one of them.”
“Mr. Brubaker,” said the moderator, whose day-job was running a car dealership, “we have heard your arguments and we do understand where you are coming from, but rules are established for a reason. There aren’t many switch pitchers in baseball. It’s just not done. This rule will have to stand.”
At home, Hermie agreed with his father’s arguments when told what had happened at the meeting, but he thought that the trophy belonged to the Pups, fair and square, even if it was shared, with both the Pups and the Ponies receiving one. Disgusted, he sighed deeply.
“I’m going to give up baseball,” he said both defiantly and sadly. “Even when you win you lose.”
Chapter 7 —
Hermie Knuckles Down
After the rules committee held an emergency called session the followin
g Monday night in answer to Coach Drake’s challenge that had now been extended to include a challenge by the coach of the Ravens team, the Ponies vs. Pups game was ruled in favor of the Ponies “due to irregularities exhibited by the opposing team.” The last Ravens game was also called a forfeit. The Ponies would be advancing to the playoffs, with post-season action beginning on Friday.
Part of the argument in favor of the Ponies was that, overall, the Ponies were more of a regimented team, its players were perennial winners, and the team would likely perform better in the playoffs, especially since the removal of the switch pitcher element would dampen the abilities of the Pups. Too, the board feared that if switch pitching continued into the playoffs, turmoil would ensue and new chapters in the rule book would have to be written. Advice would come from everywhere, all in the quest to satisfy one single player and one single team. The new rule governing switch pitchers was that from now on a decision had to be made before the start of each game as to which arm would be used by that player prior to the submission of a batting order to the umpire by both sides. The pitcher could use that arm only, or the game would be forfeited.
Hermie’s father attended the session and argued loudly to the board members who were seated around a large table that this would inhibit his son from pitching his full range of throws and would greatly hurt his future development.
“A pitcher is a pitcher,” he said. “It doesn’t matter which arm he uses. In my son’s case, he can’t throw a knuckleball with his right hand and he can’t throw a curve with his left. He needs to be able to access both of these in a given game.”
He was interrupted by one of the board members, Jake Hornby, whose son once played on a major league baseball team in Pennsylvania. “I talked to my boy about this before the meeting,” he said. “In the majors especially, the question of how a switch hitter is to bat comes into play. He decides when going to the plate which it will be, left or right. This depends largely on whether the pitcher is a righty or a lefty. Now, this does not mean as much in little league, mind you, but players need to learn one rule and one rule only. We need to be consistent. In the majors, coaching staffs quite often make substitutions, too, based on whether it is a righty or a lefty on the mound.”
The Switch Pitcher Page 4