Extra Innings

By Bud Focht

Hi, my name is Bud and I like extra innings.

One of baseball’s most beloved personalities passed away recently, Ernie Banks.  Mr. Cub was famous for saying “It’s a great day for a ball game. Let’s play two,” because of his love for playing the game.

Baseball doesn’t play many doubleheaders anymore but I am a big fan of extra inning games.

Now that I no longer umpire, that is.

When I was an umpire, I would pride myself on how fast the game would finish. Especially on hot summer days. I told (warned)  the 18 and 19-year old American Legion batters when I umpired that the higher the temperature, the bigger the strike zone.

Now, as a baseball fan, I cannot get enough of America’s Pastime.  I love it when the game goes longer than expected.

When I was a baseball player in college I loved extra innings on a more personal level.

I was a decent ball player growing up, earning all-star honors at ages 8, 9, 12, 14, 15 and 16. I was the leading hitter on the high school junior varsity team as a sophomore and again on the varsity when I batted clean-up my senior year.

When I moved on to Miami and played on the college team, I learned firsthand what the ‘Peter Principle’ was all about. You know, the business concept about being promoted, based on how well you performed your previous job. It happens over and over up the cooperate chain until you finally reach the level of  incompetence.

I used to tell my friends that there was only one reason why my name in the batting order was usually in the ninth spot.  It was because there wasn’t a tenth spot.

I spent a lot of time on the bench in college. Even when my name was in the lineup, I spent time on the bench because the majority of my collegiate at bats were as the designated hitter.

They didn’t like to let me use a glove, and when they did it was a first baseman’s mitt.  When I played the field I was like Michael Jackson circa 1983, wearing a glove for no apparent reason.

I grew up as a catcher but was not a good enough receiver for the college level. But I could swing the bat. Sometimes I’d hit something. That was my approach at the plate, my batting philosophy, “Swing hard in case you hit it.”

The reason why I liked extra innings, especially when I was not in the lineup, was because the longer the game went on, the better chance I had of finally getting into the game. If the other team brings a lefty in to pitch in relief, I’m a right-handed hitter (using the term hitter loosely, batter might be more accurate) so my ‘mad skills’ may be called upon.

Speaking of ‘mad skills’, my college dorm days went extra innings.  After graduating from college I worked at a college in Rhode Island for three years, the first year living in the dorms as a graduate assistant.

My wife Terry, who was on the tennis team at the college, grew up in Pawtucket, RI and lived just a few blocks from McCoy Stadium, the home field of the Pawtucket Red Sox.  The Paw Sox where the Boston Red Sox highest minor league team, the AAA team that played in the International League.

Terry was a big Red Sox fan so we went to a few Paw Sox games in my three years up there. In my final year living in Rhody, I took Terry to a game on a cold New England spring day in mid-April.

The ’81 Paw Sox were hosting the Rochester Red Wings, the AAA team in the Baltimore Orioles organization, who came to the Ocean State with this ‘five-tool’ hot-shot prospect by the name of Cal Ripken, Jr.

Terry and I went to the game but it was so cold that when the game went into extra innings we left. Plus it was getting late. I brought Terry home late once before and learned my lesson the hard way. I never did that again.

Little did Terry and I know that the game that we just left would go on until 4am before they finally stopped it, still tied after 32 innings.  What an excuse I could have had!!!

After national attention due to the record length of the contest, they finished the game two months later in front of a sellout crowd that did not include me and Terry. Our tickets were dropped in the McCoy Stadium parking lot sometime late in that April night. Just as well. I think the continued game lasted just one inning.  But it was an extra one.

I am now a big fan of extra innings for other reasons.

One’s life time can be broken up easily into nine innings, nine decades.

Terry was 54 years old when she was diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer’s Disease last year, so in my calculations she is in the top of the fifth inning. I’m in the bottom of the fifth of a nine-inning game.

The average life expectancy is close to 80 years old. Fifty years ago it was 60. Forty years from now it is going to be 100. That has been my plan since day one, to live to 100. That’s 10 innings.  Extra innings.

But I’m worried about Terry as we get into the late innings.

For 35 years Terry and I dreamed of growing old together, going into extra innings. Now I am worried we won’t even get a complete game.

For a nine-inning game to be considered a complete game, the losing team has to bat five times.

Terry has not completed her fifth at bat yet, her fifth inning. This game can’t be called yet!

When I was younger I wanted extra innings. I was greedy. Now all I want is a complete game.

Until next time, Terry will still be playing. I’ll be spending more time on the bench, cheering her on.

Bud