Jon Karcich, Dillon Baird, Casey Haerther and Garrett Richards (the guy with a circle around his head and the arrow) were enjoying a couple of days of R&R with a quick stop at our house here in Prescott Arizona.

Tonight Garrett makes his major league debut at Yankee stadium and we’re pulling for him.

I may have imagined such a night, but I couldn’t have scripted it any better than it happened.

It’s true that you just can’t make this stuff up.

We got a call the night before Dillon was asked to report to the major league game in case they needed a back up 1B player.

A sold out night game versus the Giants in Scottsdale Stadium meant that tickets were iffy. 11 of us converged anyway (some of us from about two hours away) with hopes of getting into the game, even though we knew our player probably wouldn’t make it into the game himself.

Dillon’s request for tickets didn’t get processed and the clerk at the will call window didn’t have anything for us. Following a brief discussion between the manager and the staff, the very accommodating Giants people just handed us some bleacher tickets and told us to enjoy the game.

Once inside, we scanned the field and couldn’t believe he was actually taking BP at that very moment, so his dad and I dashed over against the backstop. Watching Manager Mike Scioscia watching our boy swing it was like a feature film playing in my brain.

We got a little bit of parental love: glove bumps, the megawatt smile and a couple seconds of that good old baseball small talk, and then he disappeared into the dugout.

With most of his immediate family present (missing brother Casey in California and sister Marie in Prescott), his girl Addison, and his childhood buddies from Prescott (Wes, Jeff, and Jay), we squeezed into the distant right field bleachers where we had a great long view of the dugout.

Another baseball parent (thanks Carolyn Berg!) was sitting above the dugout and gave us updates on where he was standing along the rail so we could watch him watching the game.

In the top of the 8th, I didn’t see him leaning on the railing where he’d been through the entire game … looking down near the on deck circle, I spied a guy about Dillon’s size wearing a helmet, holding a bat.

Never mind what was happening on the field, which the rest of the 10,000 plus spectators were following. Our group, surrounded by a sea of Giants fans, were watching, waiting, holding our collective breaths … and then we saw him step up onto the field, do his signature pre-at bat move: the bat held in both hands raised high and then stretched behind his neck. Then his name was announced.

You won’t read a description of what happened next on MLB.com as there’s only a mention of the Angels picking up 2 hits in their defeat; Chris Pettit‘s early in the game is the only one noted. You will spot his name if you take a look at this wire account that didn’t make it into our hometown newspaper since the game ended too late.

If you’re a family member on FaceBook and want to see what happened when he singled to right on a 1 in 0 count, you can watch this video that a wonderful Giants fan recorded and sent me. Thank you Robert. Sorry, if you’re not a family member, it’s got privacy settings on it so you won’t be able to see it.

It won’t be written about anywhere else, but for us it was as good as it gets. Your kid batting 1.000 in the majors. For a day.

And we know it’s official because the bench coach gave Dillon the official score card.

After a delightful winter spent doing repair projects and painting with hubby at a property we have listed for sale, I’ve mostly worn the same paint-encrusted duds five days a week. I look forward to scrubbing the primer off my hands and fingernails, changing clothes and getting out of town for a couple of days.

Two friends from our Ravelry Prescott Knitters group (waving at Allee and Emily!) and I are going to the game and meeting up with my very own Angel, Dillon (minor leaguers don’t start for another couple of weeks, so he gets to attend a game with me as a spectator, which has never happened before in either of our lives!).

First stop, Tempe Yarn & Fiber and then on to Tempe Diablo Stadium to watch the Angels and maybe get to say hi to a few of the players we’ve met over the past couple of years in the minors.

With two huge knitting projects finally off my needles (both of which were started and worked on at other ball parks over the past two years) it’s fitting that I cast on something brand new to start this season.

Here are the first few rows of Featherweight Cardigan, by Hannah Fettig, anchored with baseball stitch markers, of course.

Play ball!

P.S. Here are some photos from the day at Tempe Diablo.

That’s the audio clip which introduces radio and internet coverage of Quakes games at the Epicenter. According to my mom, that sound file is from Jack Benny’s original radio show. In fact, the Quakes ball park is located on Rochester Avenue. (Undoubtedly this means nothing to anyone born later than 1965.)

It’s hard to believe that son’s been been a part of the Los Angeles Angels system for over a year now. Considering how much we have learned about the minor league experience, the real thing as lived day-to-day by the players is quite phenomenal and much of it closely guarded info (as it should be).

Players really do move up and down throughout the farm system during the season, and on and off of the DL. Guys get traded out of the minors as part of big league deals, and they don’t get any advance notice. And it’s really true that they sometimes vanish from their host families homes in the middle of the night, leaving their car in the driveway until it can be transported to their next league assignment.

We’ve been fortunate our guy was assigned to Rancho Cucamonga, only about a 5 hours’ drive for us, enabling us to get to quite a few games.

Aside to just my knitting buddies: you can get a lot accomplished on roadtrips of that duration,  before and after games, and while listening to the nightly broadcasts from home! In fact, I just checked my Ravelry projects page and found I’d completed 12 items over the course of this season, not including Spring Training.

Players’ families receive complimentary admission to games and are shown a hearty welcome by the staff, booster club members and hosting and adopting families.

Here are but a few of my sweetest memories of the 2010 season:

• Meeting many of the Quakes players and their parents on the field and outside their clubhouse
• Watching Tremor bring it night after night
• Hearing the broadcast of Gabe Jacobo reaching 100 rbi
• Hanging out with son postgame
• Informal Stitch-n-Pitch with new Ravelry friends in Rancho
• Listening to some incredible renditions of our National Anthem
• A week in Rancho with my mom, who may be her grandson’s biggest fan
• Enjoying a couple of Hangers on “Thirsty Thursdays” with two of the Quake’s gals, Ms. Rubenstein and Mrs. Jacobo. (pictured at right, photo used with permission)

To you young men who played for Quakes this summer, thanks for the great time. You impressed our family with your courtesy and professionalism, and we can’t wait to watch you next year, wherever you may be. Best of luck to you all, and especially to those we were privileged to meet or reconnect with after meeting you last year in Orem, Utah, including:

Mike Piazza, Rian Kiniry, Patrick Corbin, Garrett Richards (aka PTBNL), Jeremy Berg, Matt Shoemaker, Roberto Lopez, Tyson Auer, Gabe Jacobo, Mike Trout, Luis Jimenez, Darwin Perez, Angel Castillo, Jon Townsend, and Beau Brooks.

9/22/10 postscript:

The Quakes won their division and advanced to the California League Championship after I wrote most of this post. They lost in their championship bid, 7 – 6 in extra innings, to the San Jose Giants. I got to see the last three games of the championship race and loved being there for it.

Lots of coverage is available if you just Google Cal League or search for the team by name: Rancho Cucamonga Quakes, or search on FaceBook for same. There are lots of images stored in my head, but a favorite is this one below, used with permission of the Quakes: with TV cameras taking up space where people often come down to the dugout to request autographs, someone reached over the top to find our boy, and he obliged, as always.

Speaking of this, you might like the rest of the “11 Halos posts” filed under the “Baseball” category.

The third week of April has us watching the Rancho Cucamonga Quakes in the California League.

The heart of the game is this great crowd of little leaguers, knitters & crocheters at an impromptu stitch-n-pitch and, best of all, watching our very own third baseman signing autographs for little kids before the game and then going yard during the game.

Priceless.

We’re talking minor leagues, and even though it is just across the road from the major league camp, there are lots of differences.

For one, son has asked that we NOT come down to watch. I think this comes down to humility and knowing your place in the pecking order. This, I must respect.

So what’s a fan to do till Opening Day?

For starters, I stayed warm in the Arizona Letterman jacket he gave me for Christmas all winter. Then, in mid February, I took a little trip down the road to Tucson to check out the first weekend of Wildcat baseball (fortunately it was rainy and cold so I could show off that jacket everywhere I went!).

Then, there was our family Oscar party when I dressed up as Annie Savoy, again in the jacket.

Oh, and there is the daily dose of baseball updates courtesy of MLB.AtBat on my iPod.

Finally, there is the baseball knitting. On my needles right now, like most knitters, are a wide variety of projects: some beautifully elegant apparel, some adorably soft tiny things that will adorn grandkids when done, and a few experimental pieces. In the spirit of Spring Training are these socks (seen at right), a modification of a design by Meredith Knitting, in honor of the 2009 MLB Amateur Draft 11th pick of the Los Angeles Angels (#351 overall).

Since June I’ve been occasionally documenting the journey, from draft day, to reporting, to short season, through Fall Instructs, and now, after they break camp, will be looking forward to watching some games either out in Iowa or California. We’ll know where the next part of this career goes in a few weeks.

Meanwhile, if I just get today’s spring cleaning chores done early, I can grab my knitting bag, drive across town and watch a little Yavapai College Roughrider baseball.

Speaking of this, if you’re a baseball fan, you might like some of these posts in the Loosely Speaking archives:

11 Halos: Part 5 – Trip to Orem
11 Halos: Part 4
11 Halos: Part 2 – Signing Day

Seeing number 39 run out onto the field at Brent Brown Stadium for the first time was strangely underwhelming. All I could do was smile and remember the hours son put in hitting wiffle balls off his Grandma when he was about five years old and had exhausted all the rest of his BP pitchers (his dad, myself and two brothers). He was still a couple of years too young for Little League back then. Sixteen years later, that’s what I see out there on the grass.

Owlz luminaries encountered on our trip:

Matt Gittens, announcer, radio broadcast producer, entertainer, greeter, Ghost Buster—Matt does it all with boundless exuberance every night. They definitely found the right guy for this job.
Jeff Katofsky and Jason Taylor, part of the Owlz ownership group: thanks for making us feel welcome.
Seen but not met (yet): Stephen C. Smith of “Future Angels” fame.
Jim, the Owlz official Hooter during the games (pictured below – Thanks for letting me snap your photo, Jim!).
Parents of David Carpenter. (Enjoyed getting to watch them watch their son)
Aunt Pam and Uncle Bill who belong to Mike Piazza (thanks for saving the newspaper for us, Aunt Pam! See you later in the chatroom.)

Ode to Owlz Host Families:

Son’s host family, the Dablings: Bart, Janice, Cody, Sienna, Chelsea, and Gentry. There’s no adequate way to express how much it means to us to know they are the special folks providing a home to son this summer. We brought them blueberries and homemade bread from the Provo Farmer’s Market, but will be forever trying to find better ways to show our thanks. (See Bart and Janice below)

For more on the this system of housing ball players new to the pros, read this article about the host family tradition.

Milestones:

• Seeing son’s face and batting average displayed on Jumbotron (top right corner is the Owl that he purportedly hit in batting practice one day).

• Being interviewed on TV for the first time about being the mom of a pro ball player. (Thank you Tracy: it wasn’t that painful after all and you have a bright career ahead!)

• Last and best, being treated to lunch by my son on his dime.

You can follow the Owlz on twitter and via their website.

They visited the clubhouse (he’ll wear #39, same number he wore at the University of Arizona), and started filling out information for promotion videos and bio for the Orem Owlz Web site.

We discovered that all their games are broadcast free online, so that’s how we’ll spend our summer evenings.

Today they’ll meet their host families (Yeah! With only two duffles full of worldly goods, an apartment would be tricky. We really appreciate knowing there are wonderful people out there willing to open their homes to these young men.), we’ll get a mailing address (sorry, that will be private), and they’ll get in a workout before leaving tomorrow for their first game in Ogden.

Sunday evening while at a Dad’s Day dinner at our daughter’s house, he texted: “What should my walk up song be?” A few bars of your “walk up” song is played over the sound system as you walk up to the plate.

Not having had “walk up” songs in high school or college, this is uncharted territory. Exactly what does a person want their signature tune to say about them?

Because we are a supportive family, we immediately shot back a number of awesome recommendations. 4-year-old niece (and littlest Angel fan) Tessa shouted out: “Hamster Dance!” We also recommended “River Dance,” to which he said he was leaning toward Springsteen or Tom Petty (good boy, thought I).

So, what about “Runnin’ Down a Dream” (Petty)?

Our other contributions included: “Bad to the Bone,” (George Thorogood, even though Dillon isn’t and it’s overused), “Baby Mine” (from Dumbo, to which he said “That is Andrew’s wedding song, can’t do that”), “Shake It Up,” (Cars, perfect if you ask me), or even “Mannish Boy,” (Muddy Watters, maybe a little arrogant and some inappropriate lyrics, but hey, it’s Muddy!).

We’ll probably let the Owlz site tell (most of) the rest of this summer’s story.

Whoever you are, reading this, thank you for following #39′s progress and wherever you are, love to hear YOUR baseball stories!

Received equipment, signed up for his new insurance program (yeah!), had a physical and a workout. Then checked into hotel until tomorrow’s departure to Orem.

Making my rounds at Friday garage sales, the first text of the morning included a picture of his batting helmet and locker. I didn’t cry when he left two hours earlier, but when I saw that helmet, I had a mom moment (tears).

Then, the fans. Dillon’s niece, Tessa, was on her first-ever trip to Disneyland when her family learned Dillon had signed. Always his #1 fan, Tessa and her mom and dad took a quick spin down E. Katella Ave. over to Angel Stadium of Anaheim for merchandise and photo ops.

Best part of the day was the phone call in which my son-of-few-words told me what he did today as he waited for the shuttle back to his hotel. In his voice I heard fatigue, excitement and anxiety (the stuff a mom is always tuned into).

All normal emotions at the end of a guy’s first day on the job.

He heads to Tempe in the morning for physical and workout. Then gets his uniform and a plane ticket to head up to Orem, Utah on Sunday. He’ll be playing until the beginning of September, games every day with about four days off over the course of the summer. (No wonder they are called the “boys of summer.”)

All our questions were answered.

And he signed. And became a professional baseball player.

More later…

Most visitors to Loosely Speaking probably don’t care, but I’m going to chronicle the minor league experience through a mom’s eyes as this boy of mine embarks (fingers crossed) on his career as a professional baseball player.

So. 11th Round. Angels, taken as a 3B player.

We’ll see what happens next.

I had finally resigned myself to a long term, perhaps permanent, work slowdown and was halfway into retirement planning when, the next week, my inbox delivered a slew of new projects.

I love, love, love my 5-year-old loan-free Tundra, but my personal energy efficiency czar (also known as my husband) is leaning on me to purchase a Prius.

While savoring every second of what may be my youngest child’s last year playing college baseball, my granddaughter is starting T-ball.

My affinity for baseball and trucks go way back…

• Sandlot baseball was my first sport and keeping up with all the neighborhood guys was great training for giving birth years later to three athletic sons. Since becoming a spectator in the intervening years, I’ve also put batting and infield practice time to good use, knitting huge quantities of socks, sweaters and baby blankets.
• My ride when first son was born was an old white Toyota pickup, which hauled all manner of sports gear, my knitting stuff and amazing garage sale finds, but which sufficed only as long as baby made three.

Watching my sons’ little league experiences over the past 20 years, I’ve been feeling wistful as the youngest one wraps up his collegiate career far from home. Taking me back across those two decades in the crack of the bat, my Bonus Daughter shared her first experience as the mom of a Tball player a couple of days ago:

“So we finally got the first practice in…my cheeks hurt when it was over from smiling for an hour straight (that, and it was like -20 outside). She certainly has “mad skills” compared to the other kiddos. She hit all 3 times at bat. I’d put her at #2 just behind her friend Jose who is quite the slugger (and whose grandpa played for the Cubs). The cutest was when everyone came in from the field and Coach Chris told them to sit down. He was on bended knee, Bug was the first one to get there so she looked around tentatively then knelt down herself as all he other kids came crashing in and plopped down on their butts. So there she was for the next 5 minutes with hands folded on her knee listening intently to Coach.”

That same little SlugBug asked yesterday if I would knit her a blue sweater.

So, where does that leave me?

If I keep working (and lucky am I to have work that I can do from any location), and go for the Prius, I can afford to visit those grown up kids of mine (and possibly drive to some minor league baseball games) whenever I want, despite the price of gas. And, if things get really tight, T-ball is only a couple blocks away for the next several months and I should have plenty of time to finish that little blue sweater.

Batter up.

I can’t say I know him, but my son was his teammate for the 2008 Wildcats season and I am pulling for Ryan, as he’s the first teammate we’ve ever watched to go on and make it to the show in his rookie year.

Read more about it:
http://www.freep.com/article/20090402/SPORTS02/904020454

http://content.usatoday.com/communities/fantasywindup/post/2009/04/64953063/1

Good luck, Ryan!

Division I College baseball starts today, February 19, 2009, which happens to be my birthday. I love February.

To commemorate the beginning of the season, Tom Check gave me permission to display this great photo. See more of Tom’s photography on his blog.

Wherever you are, and whatever level you follow, enjoy opening day and hope to see you at the ballpark, whether Chase Field (where I root for the Cubbies when they come to Phoenix to play my husband’s team the Dbacks), Frank Sancet Stadium’s Jerry Kindal Field at the University of Arizona (Go ‘Cats!), RoughRider Field at Yavapai College (Roughriders), or Prescott High School’s ballpark (Badgers).

Arizona pushes UM to the brink

3-run shot in 11th inning lifts Cats, stuns Miami

Gaston HR Lifts Cats