Alexander loses to Barrington

A couple of times a year I either think about, or dream about, a baseball game from my high school years, and I thought I'd write about it here in an effort to get it out of my brain.

In my Junior Year of high school I was named the MVP of our baseball team. I was a pitcher, and had a 4-2 record and 1.00 ERA. Immediately after that spring season, I signed up to play for our American Legion baseball team, where I was promptly placed in the doghouse by a different coach. I can only speculate on what happened, but I believe that he wanted his son to pitch, so I wasn't allowed to pitch. I thought about quitting the team, and probably should have, if just to make a point.

Instead, I took the "time off" to work on developing some new pitches, including trying to make my big, slow curveball into a faster, sharper curveball, primarily based on watching a Cubs' pitcher named Lynn McGlothlen pitch. Before this time my curveball was much more like a looping Tommy John curveball, and I thought a harder-breaking pitch would be better in the long run -- something like Tiger Woods revamping his golf swing after winning several major tournaments.

The problem with this is that I managed to lose my ability to throw the big looping curveball, while my hard-breaking curve was excellent some days, and just rolled on other days. Since I wasn't pitching for the American Legion team it wasn't a huge deal, so I kept working on it.

And then one day -- the day before we were to play an arch-rival named Barrington -- the coach decided I should pitch against them. I was dumbfounded. Here I hadn't played all summer, and should have quit the team, and now he decides to give me one day's notice that I'm not only pitching against an arch-rival, but against one of the best baseball teams in the state, with two future major-leaguer's on their roster.

Of course I got creamed, losing 8-6. Not only couldn't I throw a good curveball, I also couldn't locate my fastball, and I had to resort to a changeup which I wasn't at all comfortable throwing in a game. In fact, I dropped the ball one time while trying to throw a changeup, which resulted in a balk.

Post-game interview

We didn't do interviews with reporters back then, but if we did, and if I was honest, my interview would have gone something like this:

"Al, what happened out there?"

"Well, I hadn't pitched in a game all summer, so I've been trying to work on my pitches. As you know, I've always thrown a big, looping Tommy John style curveball, but after watching Lynn McGlothlen pitch for the Cubs, I thought it would be better for the long term if I could throw a faster, sharp-breaking curveball, so that's one thing I've been working on. Some days it has been awesome, but other days, like today, it just rolls up there without breaking much at all."

"I've also been trying to develop a changeup, but I knew it wasn't ready for a game yet, either. But when I couldn't spot my fastball after not pitching off a mound all summer, and my curveball was just rolling up there, I had to give it a try. Unfortunately it wasn't ready, and that was the pitch I was trying to throw when I dropped the ball on the mound for the balk."

"Frankly, when the coach told me yesterday that I'd be pitching today, he really caught me by surprise, and I was just hoping the game would be postponed by a rainout, but that didn't happen."

"On the bright side, our offense scored six runs, which was really awesome, and I'm sorry I wasn't there for them today."

No chance to avenge the loss

I always hoped I'd have a chance to avenge this loss, but it never happened. During my Senior Year of high school baseball I hurt my shoulder, and my coach wouldn't let me pitch any more. I got very upset, and did quit that team. I didn't know it until after the season, but the coach nominated me for some college baseball scholarships. I don't know if I ever thanked him properly, but I hope I did. Of course I didn't even think about joining the American Legion team and sitting on the bench again, so that shoulder injury effectively ended my baseball career.

Besides the American Legion coach's approach, I think not getting to avenge that loss is what really bothers me. I can sort of deal with what I was doing, trying to revamp my pitches; that was the right thing to do under the circumstances. But I know I could pitch so much better than I did, and I really wanted to see what I could do against those guys. The only solace I can take is that I pitched very well against other good teams and good players. I hit well against a future major-leaguer named Mark Grant, pitched well against Ron Santo's son, and lost a game 2-0 (on errors our team made) to another team that would win the high school state championship the following year. So I know I could pitch, and at least one of my teammates went on to set records at a major college, and I could get him out, so again I take solace in knowing those things.

As for my brain, I hope it will be happier now that this is out here. No more need to dream about it, okay?