Gentlemen:

ERIE, PA:  A LITTLE EASTERN LEAGUE ACTION

The week before last the call of business took me to Bo Pelini’s new and old stomping grounds, Youngstown, Ohio, for an expert witness deposition.  Unfortunately, the local professional baseball team—the Mahoning Valley Scrappers—were on the road that night, depriving me of an opportunity to visit Eastwood Field.  Fortunately, the world’s best travel agent—Linda—researched the matter and found out that a slight diversion in my travel path to Erie, Pennsylvania, would offer me a chance to see an Eastern League (AA) baseball game featuring the hometown Erie SeaWolves hosting the Binghamton Mets from upstate New York.  A chance to get my tail into Erie (a first visit to this rust-filled city) and to catch a little Eastern League action at Jerry Uht Park was simply irresistible to the old Skipper. 

My flight into Cleveland was on time and uneventful, but the traffic snarl from the Cleveland airport to I-90 East was reminiscent of that one well-remembered patch of roadway which we encountered on our drive from Toronto to Cleveland during our epic 1992 Trip (Detroit, Toronto, Cleveland), in which B.T. took matters into his own hands and piloted our craft on the interstate shoulder (Stretch:  “YOU CAN’T DO THIS, SCOTT!!”) to pass about 8,000 angry Ohioans, including a truck driver with a loaded shotgun.  Lacking B.T.’s remarkable self-confidence nerve grit brio absence of judgment determination, I picked my way through the bumper-to-bumper traffic for about the next ten miles, averaging about 1 mile per hour, until I reached the open road and put the pedal to the metal for Erie.  Arriving at Jerry Uht Park in the heart of old downtown Erie, I was excited to see the inside of this charming little ballpark with a seating capacity of 6,000.  Jerry did not disappoint. 

I have long since run out of new adjectives to describe our great land’s abundant green cathedrals, but if I had to choose one for this particular ballpark, I think it would be “welcoming.”  It is a feel-good place to see a ballgame, and there are many different excellent places to watch the game from all kinds of different vantage points, including a spot just between home plate and the home dugout which is completely unprotected by the screen behind home plate and demands complete vigilance to avoid being creamed by a foul ball off the bat of a portsider.  The second deck that overhangs the third base side of the field is about as close to the pitcher’s mound as one can be from a second deck seat, and reminds one of our seats in the second deck at Tiger Stadium. 

The Jerry is redolent with great smells of baseball park foods, including salted peanuts which are served warm, Yuengling beer on tap, and some of the best sausage dogs east of Milwaukee. 

 The SeaWolves are a farm club of the Detroit Tigers, and a larger-than-life replica of Justin Verlander reminds fans walking the corridor that Verlander made his debut with the SeaWolves on July 4, 2005, just three days shy of ten years from the date of my visit to the ballpark.  A former Bengal backstop, Lance Parrish, is in his second season as manager of the SeaWolves, and the program proudly points out that Parrish was an eight-time MLB All-Star, three-time Gold Glove winner, and six-time Silver Slugger recipient. 

 Reminding us that there will forever be a place in professional baseball for a good Joe, the SeaWolves also employ former Atlanta Braves player Gerald Perry as their hitting coach, and former Tiger stopper Mike Henneman as their pitching coach.  One can only imagine all of the great stories that the trio of Parrish/Henneman/Perry can share with the young pups on the SeaWolves roster. 

THE GAME

Oh, yes, the game.  After a scoreless first two innings, the visiting Mets hung a four-spot on the SeaWolves’ starting pitcher Tommy Collier in the top of the third, elevating his season ERA to a still-respectable 2.47.  Although Collier’s body language looked bad as he left the mound after finally recording the final out of the frame, Henneman left his young hurler in the game, and wisely so, as he kept the Mets scoreless for the remainder of his 6-2/3 innings stint.  The SeaWolves promptly began mounting their comeback in the bottom of that frame when a fresh-faced young stud catcher by the name of Drew Longley hit a solo bomb over the left field fence to reduce the deficit to 4-1. 

After two more scoreless frames, the SeaWolves continued their comeback in the bottom of the sixth when a single, a double, and another single produced two runs.  In spite of some salty encouragement from a crusty old Tiger fan seated across the aisle from me (“See if you can’t get yourself above the Mendoza line with a hit, Gaynor!”), the SeaWolves’ rally fell short when Gaynor struck out swinging, followed by a strikeout by another SeaWolves player, James Robbins. 

After a scoreless seventh, the SeaWolves entered the bottom of the eighth inning down by a single run, 4-3.  Improvidently so, as it would turn out, the Mets’ skipper then made a call to the bullpen and brought in a lanky, straggledly-haired dude by the name of Matt Koch.  Koch warmed up with all of the customary cockiness of a closer, apparently believing himself to be invincible.  However, Koch began the inning with the one thing that drives a manager crazy, a walk to SeaWolf Wynton Bernard.  The next batter, Alberto Gonzalez, put a perfect bunt into no-man’s land between the pitcher and third base, and ended up beating Koch’s throw to first base for a single.  With two runners aboard and none out, Koch then induced a ground ball to the shortstop, but it was just wide enough toward third that there was no play to be made to third, second or first, and the hitter, Jeff McVaney, had himself a single.  In a matter of moments, Koch had himself a very bad situation, the bases drunk with SeaWolves and not a single out recorded. 

It was then that a young fella named Jason Krizan stepped to the plate with his gawdy .237 batting average, slashing his bat through the atmosphere with such vigor and vim that it appeared that he knew it was his moment to shine.  Two ferocious cuts later, he found himself with two strikes and in a deep hole.  However, beaming with brashness, Krizan smoked a Koch offering to the left field gap and plated two SeaWolves with his timely double, putting the SeaWolves ahead by the tally of 5-4.  After the next hitter reached on a fielder’s choice, Mr. Koch’s abbreviated soirée evening was over, and a new pitcher came in and struck out the final two SeaWolves batters. 

In the top of the ninth, Parrish made his own call to the bullpen, replacing pitcher Drew VerHagen with a short little flamethrower by the name of Paul Voelker.  After giving up a line drive single, Voelker struck out the next Mets hitter, and catcher Longley threw out the baserunner attempting to steal second for the second out.  Strike ’em out, throw ’em out, a thing of beauty for pitcher and manager alike.  After walking the next Met, Xorge Carrillo, and giving up a single to Eudy Pina to put runners at first and third and make things interesting, the SeaWolves closer did his job and struck out the final Mets hitter, swinging, after a Gwynnish number of foul balls to stay alive. 

I do not know if we will ever hear from the flame-throwing Voelker again, but as he was pitching, I meandered past a couple of scouts sitting behind home plate and glanced at their radar guns.  I was able to see that Voelker repeatedly reached the 94-95 mph neighborhood when he was pitching that evening, and he appears to have a nasty curve ball as well. 

In the end, it was another great night of baseball in another beautiful little Minor League venue.  We share with you here a couple more pictures from Jerry Uht Park.

FIRST HALF STANDINGS

TOP TEN PITCHERS

TOP TEN HITTERS

WHO’S HOT – HITTERS

WHO’S NOT – HITTERS

WHO’S HOT – PITCHERS

WHO’S NOT – PITCHERS

TRIPLE A ALL-STAR GAME

See most of you tonight at Werner Park for the Triple A All-Star game.  Should be a hoot!

Skipper