Bits & Pieces

 

By Kim J. Harmon

P

eople are concerned for me. Whenever I hunker down somewhere off the foul line at some baseball game, clutching my camera in both hands, coaches feel the need to inform me that I am in the line of fire . . . a potential victim of an errant throw from the infield or a sharp foul ball off the bat of some would-be Manny Ramirez.

That’s nice.

Of course, once in a while I find that this concern is somewhat misplaced. This past weekend, as I slipped inside the fence at the Bethel Complex to watch the opening game of the District 12-Year-Old All Star Tournament between Newtown and New Milford, a gentleman became quite concerned.

Not about me, per se, because if I got whacked by a bat or a ball or something the bigger issue wasn’t going to be whether or not I was okay, but whether or not I was going to sue the town of Bethel, the Bethel Parks & Recreation Department, the Bethel Babe Ruth Association, the hot dog vendor, the guy in the pressbox, and whoever else was foolish enough to let me inside the fence.

Hey, I could hardly blame the guy. This is a world where people smoke cigarettes for 40 years and then blame the tobacco companies for poisoning them . . . a world where people spill a cup of coffee in their lap and then blame the restaurant for making it hot . . . a world where people kill other people and then claim it was their parents’ fault because they were abused 20 years ago.

I probably calmed the man a little (only a little, mind you) when I told him that if I got hit by a ball, I wouldn’t blame anyone but myself.

Still, I had to shake my head. Especially when the gentleman was worried that my son (who was outside the fence, but clutching it with his fingers) could get hurt by a foul ball . . . despite being in a spot, guarded by one of the dugouts, where he could watch three games a day for the rest of eternity and still not get his fingers hit by a foul ball.

This is one mixed up world.

From working with the Miami Dolphins of the National Football League when they went 17-0 in 1972 and working with the Orlando Solar Bears when they went 47-28-7 and captured the International Hockey League’s Turner Cup in 2001, Dr Frank Lodato has had quite a run (see related story, this page). Yogi Berra can claim 10 championship rings and Derek Jeter can claim four. Dr Lodato has SEVEN of his own – two from the Calgary Stampeders of the Canadien Football League, three from minor league hockey (Orlando, Detroit and Orlando), one from college football and one from college basketball. He could have had NINE if his role with the Dolphins and the New Jersey Devils of the National Hockey League had been just a little larger. Not bad, huh? . . . I just picked up the Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2001 for my PC because not only does it have season mode (which starts you off at Q School, trying to qualify) and course architect, it also has the TPC at River Highlands in Cromwell (site of the Canon GHO) as one of its signature courses. It is rendered magnificently well – not only with the tees and hazards, but right down to the brutally fast greens . . . speaking of sports games, it is rather amazing that even in an age where we can get graphically intense and stunningly realistic sports games for the PC and game consoles, an old standard like Strat-O-Matic can maintain its vitality (see page B2 for look at the new Hall of Fame 2000 series) . . . lots of people complained last week about New York Yankees manager Joe Torre picking seven of his own players for the American League All-Star game. I say, there MUST be something more important to worry about than that. A guy on the radio said it the best, “To the victors go the spoils.” Picking your own players SHOULD be one of the perks of managing the All-Star game. Relax, people . . . even though the All Star Home Run Derby has lost a little luster (it got a little tiresome through the sheer repetitiveness of the comments made after every home run), it still is a fun thing to watch . . . talk about Barry Bonds or Alex Rodriguez all you want, but the most fearsome player in baseball today is Manny Ramirez – bar none. I think Karl Ravech said it on ESPN, “This guy can knock in a run just by rolling out of bed in the morning.” . . . ‘nuff said for now.