The Nuthouse

After two games against Sioux City that lasted a combined seven hours, 51 minutes, I think I’m due a 2-hour game. Don’t you think? But let’s be realistic. That’s probably not going to happen. I’m expecting another marathon because the Wingnuts, somehow, have forgotten how to pitch effectively.

Of the four remaining pitchers who were in the opening day starting rotation, only Leonard Landeros has a winning record, at 5-3. Justin Young was moved to the bullpen and owns a 3-6 record with a 5.51 ERA and Brad Davis and Gustavo Mata are a combined 9-13. Davis’ 4.18 ERA is the lowest among those four pitchers.

The saving grace has been Richard Salazar, the only true bulldog in the rotation. I’m not saying the others are weak mentally, but when Salazar runs into trouble he doesn’t let things snowball. He battles. Since joining the rotation, he’s 5-1 with a ERA in the low-2.00 range. He throws strikes, too — which, as we saw last night has been a major problem for Wichita.

The Wingnuts issued an American Association-record 15 free passes last night, raising their league-leading total to 303 in 72 games. That’s more than four walks per game. The Wingnuts’ pitching staff also has the fewest strikeouts in the league and has allowed the fourth-most home runs.

Tonight, Mata gets the call. But maybe we won’t be playing because the rain is coming down pretty hard as I write this and it has obviously rained earlier in the day, too. A rainout would be the best possible thing that could happen to the Wingnuts today. They have virtually no available relief pitchers, as the bullpen has combined to work 25 innings during the last six game and a scheduled doubleheader with St. Paul tomorrow. A day of rest would be extremely welcome.

OK, so we found at least two legitimate baseball fans in St. Paul. And they’re the ones who commented on the “Misadventures in Minnesota” post from a few days ago. I called them out, they called me out and then they expected me not to take them up on their offer to meet them in the parking lot before Saturday’s game.

Is there a better way to word that — meet them in the parking lot? It sounds like we were about to fight. I don’t know, maybe we were. But when I rolled up in my new Indians hat and the Max Headroom glasses I purchased earlier in the day at Mall of America, I think any edge I had was removed and any hostility between me and the Minnesotans was gone. So that’s good.

Aabfan — I don’t think I ever caught his real name — knows pretty much everything about independent baseball. I’m not sure how I feel about that, really. Actually, I do. I can never knock passion, so the guy earns props from me. If I managed to hold onto a few of the several thousand tidbits he dished out when I sat with him during Saturday’s game, I supposed I can call that a success.

The major annoyance of Saturday, though, was SuperFan, a guy who the Saints organization pays to dress up in red, white and blue wristbands and a headband with a t-shirt and cutoff baseball pants. Just a really, really irritating dude. He had Friday night’s game off — if he’s such a SuperFan, shouldn’t he come to the game anyway? — so Saturday was thankfully my only experience with him.

He stood up on the dugout during the game — like, as pitches were being thrown and everything, and led the crowd in various chants and cheers. During the game! So I’m supposed to look at him instead of watching this 3-2, 2-out pitch with the tying runner at the plate? Really? I’m spoiled, I know, but I just couldn’t handle that.

I realize I probably complain way too much. I’m sorry for that. But I can say that the two-day excursion to Minnesota (and back) was a highly positive experience. My boys Jeremy and Asa, who I didn’t know very well previously, and I definitely bonded through two 10-hour car rides, trying to find an open restaurant at midnight on Friday, two baseball games and a trip to the world’s largest mall, where I managed to not waste money on some very enticing-looking items. So props to me.

It’s 12:28 a.m. Minnesota time (I’m assuming we’re still dealing with Central time), and I’m sitting in Room 224 of the Super 8 in St. Paul trying to hold onto the slight bitterness I developed after attending my first-ever St. Paul Saints home game. I want to make sure my true feelings come across in this post, even though I’ve been awake for the last 19 hours and I’m running on empty.

First of all, let me get this out of the way: Whatever the Saints are doing — it works. People pack their park, Midway Stadium, and it’s a better parking-lot atmosphere than the Wingnuts or any Wichita pro sports team could possibly ever imagine or attain.

I came with my boys Jeremy and Asa, making the 10-hour trek today from Wichita for a couple weekend games before the Wingnuts return home on Sunday. I don’t think we knew exactly what to expect, but it’s safe to say that we didn’t expect a parking lot full of tailgaters. Not just a parking lot — most of the stadium’s surrounding area was filled with people playing games, cooking out and just chilling out. It was amazing.

So that’s out there. The Saints are the flagship, marquee independent baseball franchise. No one can take that from them and no one probably ever will grasp that title away. I just want to make that perfectly clear.

But there’s a reason I qualified the good atmosphere by limiting it to the parking lot. My friends, when I got into the stadium, I realized that this was not baseball. This was a circus that happened to also be hosting a baseball game. No one in the crowd, I don’t think, was actually there to watch baseball. Overheard in my section: “This is the St. Paul Saints, right?” and “Oh, it was a hit-and-run” after a 3-2 pitch with two outs. No, it wasn’t a hit and run. It was a full-count two-strikes pitch.

I’m all for on-field promotions to draw in the casual fan. But there are two problems with how St. Paul approaches this: 1) there’s a promotion EVERY SINGLE HALF INNING! And 2) I don’t think St. Paul has anything but casual fans. I sat in a bleacher section full of people and didn’t hear a single conversation about the game going on or about baseball in general. People came in late and didn’t know where they were supposed to sit, and the couple in front of me took PDA to a very annoying level.

I’ll admit to being a baseball purist. I love THE GAME — it has always outweighed the people playing it, the fans, the atmosphere — everything. Nothing is bigger than THE GAME. So yeah, I’m coming from a place probably not very many people can relate to. Am I saying I didn’t enjoy myself? No. I did. Because I watched the game and blocked out all the shenanigans around me.

What’s wrong with just marketing baseball? I realize it’s “just” independent baseball and St. Paul is dealing with a major league team right up the road in Minneapolis, so the Saints have to do something to set themselves apart. So they go for gimmicks. They’re owned by Mike Veeck who has showmanship in his blood. I get it. I really do. But I’m going to remember Blake Gailen’s 7 RBI performance more than I am a chicken-toss during the middle of the 3rd inning.

And while we’re at it, what’s the point, St. Paul, of dogging a player on the opposing team when that team is laying a 12-2 whipping on you? Chris Colton got the “Participant of the Game” award after going 0 for 5 with a strikeout on Friday, but his performance didn’t really affect the game too much. And it would have been 11-2 if a Saints outfielder hadn’t dropped an easy pop-up hit by Colton, which allowed him to reach base and later score. I’m just saying.

I had fun. I really did. I realize baseball games aren’t really about baseball anymore. That’s sad to me, but I’ll get over it. I’m keeping my pure heart, though.

One of my favorite baseball blogs is the one done by the Cleveland Indians’ MLB.com beat reporter, Anthony Castrovince. He talks plenty of baseball, of course, but he starts each post with a little anecdote that probably interests absolutely nobody but himself. But I like that, so I’m going to start doing it, too.

So I come home the other night from a very grueling (read: boring) softball game — my team won but I nearly became “Softball Guy” because the other team was so annoying. When I get home, there’s this huge 18-speed mountain bike sitting against the railing next to my door. I’m like, “Well, I don’t really bike that much, but I guess I could start. And where’s the helmet?”

Then I notice a note taped to one of the crossbars, so of course I read it, just in case it happens to be addressed to me. Of course, it isn’t. It’s to a woman named Kelli from a man named Robert — kind of a break up letter but I couldn’t really tell who was dumping whom. I taped the letter back, but it and the bike were still there the next day, so I took the letter. which is still in my possession. The bike is gone, but I don’t know who took it so I can’t return the letter.

I want to get into this a lot more, but if Kelli and Robert happen to be reading this, I doubt they’re too happy that I’ve invaded their privacy, however unintentionally. This letter was pretty dramatic and touching, I must say. He spelled picnic “pick nick,” but other than that it was solid. There — 2 minutes of your life you’ll never get back. On to baseball.

Yesterday, I graded the moves the Wingnuts have made on their pitching staff since the beginning of the season. Today I’ll switch to the hitters. Only moves that affect the current roster will be mentioned.

May 11: Traded Brandon Carter to Grand Prairie in exchange for future considerations
Carter was slated to be a regular at second base for the Wingnuts, but he got injured late in spring training and Wichita ultimately didn’t have a spot on the roster for him. Even though Carter is having a nice season with the first-place Airhogs and the Wingnuts didn’t get anything in return for him, this move was good because it opened a spot at second for Brenan Herrera, an All-Star who’s batting .332. Grade: A-minus

May 28: Sold the contract of Dustan Mohr to the Colorado Rockies; July 1: Signed Mohr
Mohr struggled in his first stint with the Wingnuts, but they got him back after he hit about .160 in Triple-A with the Rockies. His average is up to .259, though, and it’s probably safe to say he’ll lead the team in RBIs when the dust is settled on this season. Currently, his 29 RBIs rank fifth on the team and 10 behind leader Michael Thompson. Grade: A

June 6: Signed Jose Amado; June 16: Released Amado; June 24: Signed Amado
Amado must feel like Billy Martin for as many times as he’s been let go and brought back. Actually, the Wingnuts had good reason for this — he injured his knee a few days after he was signed and it was thought he would be out for the year. But the injury didn’t turn out to be as serious as first thought and the team re-signed Amado a few days later. The effects of the injury are still there and Amado hasn’t put up the power numbers for which he was originally projected, but he rarely strikes out and has come up with a few big hits. Grade: C

June 24: Released Heath Keel, signed Leivi Ventura
In hindsight, probably the Wingnuts’ most questionable move to date. Keel is a streaky hitter and was on a down-cycle at the time of his release. It was clear he was susceptible to off-speed pitches away, and the Wingnuts didn’t have time to find out if he could make the adjustment. The only problem was they didn’t have a suitable replacement and signed Ventura, a former Mets farmhand, after one workout. He didn’t pan out and Keel is an All-Star now playing for St. Paul. Grade: F

June 12: Signed James (Jim? Jimmy?) Baker
I’ve seen his name all three ways but I think the Wingnuts are officially going with “Jimmy” so as not to confuse him with the former secretary of state or the scandalous PTL minister. This move was made in concert (speaking of which, I’m seeing the Eagles in Tulsa on Sept. 6) with the release of Ventura. Baker is apparently a power threat out of Spring Arbor College in Ann Arbor, Michigan — an NAIA school. So far Baker has five hits in 25 at-bats as the Wingnuts continue to search for someone who can fill the 22nd man role. Grade: Incomplete

Baseball is back tonight as the Wingnuts begin a three-game home series with Sioux City. Big series for the Wichita nine. I just wanted to say “Wichita nine” like I’m from the early-1900s or something. Talk to everybody soon.

In his letter to the American Association, Wingnuts manager Kash Beauchamp was attempting to make one of two points. Either:

1. The league wants me to be sorry? Here’s a 10-paragraph (or however many) e-mail. I’ll show them how sorry I am. I’ll overdo it.

Or:

2. I’ve put a lot of thought into it the last few days and I really am sorry for going overboard and bringing so much negative attention to myself and the team.

I’m 25 and not as cynical as some people in this business who have been around a while and have become embittered by sports constantly changing for the worse. I understand that outlook. But I hope Kash, who I’ve come to know well and have a good relationship with, wouldn’t pull the wool over my eyes and express contrition to me just to sell the letter. I don’t think he would do that.

Kash in defense mode and Kash in humble mode are two very different people. In the days immediately following the incident, people came after him pretty hard and he felt the need, for some reason, to stand his ground and say he wouldn’t have changed anything and express no remorse.

Now that the attention has died down, I think Kash has gotten off defense mode and thought about all of it and realized that really nothing good has come from it. He’s a smart guy, so he has the capability to be playing the league and not really be sorry at all. But I truly believe he learned from this and will change. At least I hope so, because I’d like to see him stay in Wichita.

I hope that’s the last I write about all of this. Everybody deserves to move on now. Let’s get back to baseball.