YFC – Day 3

Ouch.

Ouch.

Ouch.

I know I’m of a certain age, certainly no longer that of even an elderly professional athlete, but DAMMMMNnnn.

I stopped by the trainer’s room this morning, not for myself mind, you but just to ask head trainer Gary about the types and numbers of injuries he was seeing early on. Hamstrings, he said, because most of the guys do not stretch on a regular basis. We have mandatory stretching before each game, which has helped.

So in the first game, the Bombers extended their unbeaten streak to 3-0, taking the contest against the Bambinos, 7-4. I acquitted my employer and my faith well, going 4-5 with a couple of runs batted in, earning some kind words from the bubbly Jesse Barfield and coach Ron Shelton. MOT teammate Ira Jaskoll, who has earned the nickname”Rabbi” (what can I say, sports nicknames are frequently unimaginative and a bit, well, sarcastic, like tall a bald guy “Curly,” or a stout guy “Slim”), seems to take it all good-naturedly, as should be the case in this relaxed atmosphere. [Update: I later learned that Jaskoll is an actual rabbi, but I doubt the gentile players were aware of this.]

After the lunch break — somehow my kosher vegetarian meal wasn’t ordered — it was a brief rest then back to the main field for game two against the Thunder. We should have known we were in trouble when they gathered together for a group cheer. Sure enough, the first three guys got on and the cleanup hitter popped one over the left field fence, a legitimate shot. But again — and no sour grapes intended, the guy still had to hit the ball — the coaches are pitching what is basically batting practice.

I did not acquit my employer or faith as well in the second game, managing only one hit in four trips, with two RBI and, to my eternal chagrin, a strikeout. We ended up making it close (12-8), against the now 4-0 Thunder. This time I took advantage of the wonderful training facilities, getting ice treatment for a balky Achilles tendon and a bone bruise on my glove hand. I had actually dropped by a bit earlier the stupid accident of the week: sitting on my glasses. Fortunately they had an eyeglass screwdriver and were able to make the repairs.

Last night most of the Jewish campers ate together, Chicken or Salisbury steak for the meat-eaters, stir-fry tofu and couscous for me. Quite tasty. Jaskoll has done an excellent job, with Yankees camp leader Julie Kremer (who is not Jewish but is learning fast), in coordinating the meals. This morning was some sort of French Toast concoction which didn’t look that good but was actually quite tasty.

Other than the meals, which are delivered vacuum-sealed, the Jewish players are divided amount the teams. The only difference will be on Friday, when we play our two-inning game against the former Yankees. In fact, since there are just the six observant Jewish campers, we will need to recruit some Jews for a day, I suppose, to field a full team. On my team, Jaskoll and his friend, Rich Williams, sit at the far end of the section. I’m closer to the Gentile section, so I hear things. Am I being paranoid, supersensitive to the mumbles, said in jest, but perhaps more hurtful if spoken somewhat louder? After all, this is a locker room, where no topic is off limits when it comes to ragging on your teammates. I think I’ll reserve a bit of that until after camp is over. Now you know why most players wait until they retire to publish their memoirs.

Marty Appel will arrive tomorrow. Interested in what he’ll have to say of a Jewish nature.

Off to dinner: there’s a veggie meal with my name on it waiting for me at the kitchen.

Oh, one correction from the print edition of the paper: Elliot Maddox is not one of the Yankeesin attendance this time around. Pity; it would have made an interesting dynamic.

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Kaplan’s Korner on Jews and Sports © 2009 New Jersey Jewish News

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