Minnesota Teacher of the Year

Last night, I had the honor of throwing out the first ball at the local minor league baseball team’s game. It was Japanese Heritage Night; the management thought I would make a good choice. I was happy to oblige. The St. Paul Saints are a fun team and I’ve enjoyed baseball all my life.

I assumed that they would have me throw from in front of the mound, but once I got there they said that no, I’d be throwing from the mound, the full distance. Brilliantly, I was wearing Docksiders with slippery flat soles, which is probably the worst choice in footwear for throwing from a mound.

But no worries, I thought. I used to pitch in high school and college, so I figured throwing the pitch under any circumstances would be straightforward. What I conveniently forgot was that the last time I pitched was over twenty years ago. When I pitched back then, the mound was 60 feet, 6 inches from home plate. Judging from yesterday’s diamond, the mound is now a good quarter mile from home plate. The catcher is so far away that when he talked, I saw his lips move and then a second or so later the sound reached me. The game sure has changed!

The most important thing in throwing a ceremonial first pitch is getting the ball to the catcher in the air. That is everything, the sole benchmark for a successful pitch. The worst thing you can do is bounce the pitch before it reaches the catcher. Bouncing the pitch is Bad, with a capital “B”.

Making matters more stressful was that somehow word of the event got out to friends and local relatives (read: my wife told them). Before I knew it there were 20 friends at the game to watch the pitch. It’s one thing to bounce a ceremonial first pitch in front of a few thousand strangers. It’s another thing to bounce one in front of a few thousand strangers and twenty friends, family, and students.

By the time my turn to throw the pitch came up, I was feeling the pressure. The catcher looked like he was standing in North Dakota. His mitt had shrunk to the size of a walnut. “Don’t look where you don’t want to go!” is a saying I’ve carried around in my head from a book I read many years ago, but somehow I forgot all that last night. All that was running through my head was, “Don’t bounce it. Just don’t bounce it.” Of course, when you imagine the negative, your brain focuses on the negative, and that’s where you go. I slipped on delivery just enough to throw off my timing. The pitch had decent speed, but I’m embarrassed to say that it bounced about two feet in front of home plate. The catcher half-saved me with a nice pickup, but still: I bounced the ceremonial first pitch! Argh!

Fortunately, the game turned out well in any case. The Saints rolled over the St. Joe Blacksnakes, 11-0. I’m also happy to say that my friends, relatives, and students forgave me. A good time was had by all on a perfect night for baseball.

The morale to this story: Aim high. Just like in life.

P.S. A special thanks to Seigo Masubuchi and the St. Paul Saints for the invitation.