An Evening With Pops Derwood

Pops Derwood is practically a celebrity in his living room, so we've asked him to bring that fame and a .205 career batting average to Offbase and share a story or two about his illustrious career in the Chicago Cubs organization. His book, I Didn't See That Fast Ball, But I Heard It, is not scheduled for release until January, 2012, but here is an excerpt.


MORE TALES FROM THE LOW MINOR LEAGUES

While my four packs of Camels per day habit was nasty, nothing prepared me for my first taste of Beechnut. Ah, I love the smell of puke in the morning.

Beechnut was the tobacco of choice in the late 1960’s. You could find other stuff, but if it was not name-brand, not chewed in the show, nobody in the low, low, low (did I mention low?) minor leagues would be caught dead with it.

Of course, I had never even seen the stuff before reporting to Huron (South Dakota) in the old Northern League. Oh, I knew about it because guys like Don Zimmer and others had a wad the size of Rhode Island in their mouth when they played. And they spit long, black gobs of disgusting juice about a gazillion times a game. So, I knew chew existed, I had just never seen it.

“Gotta try it or you’re a pussy,” was the way the verbally challenged Ralph Pipes said to me in the clubhouse one day. (Pipes once gave up a home run that carried over the wall, over the scoreboard and landed in North Dakota. When he got back to the bench someone had painted a face on the ball with X’s for eyes and told him they had found the home run). Man threw hard-90+, but his fastball was flatter than Twiggy’s ass (look her up), so while it arrived in the strike zone with some speed, it usually departed even faster. Bottom line was, according to Pipes and several other guys who had played either a year of pro ball already or were born in an f’in barn, I had to try the chew or I would be forever seen as the woos from New York.

Try it I did, slowly, as in small amounts to start with, which turned out to be a problem (more on that later). I would roll it up in a ball, put it in my cheek and then spend the rest of the practice or game worrying about nothing except not swallowing the spit. No wonder I hit .175.

After a while I got to like it and added larger amounts. Of course, my teammates had never told me it was easier to control the spit if the wad is so big nothing can go down, it can just go out. Then some guys showed me how to wrap bubble gum around it, and after a while I got good at it. And it was so healthy! There I was smoking four packs a day, chewing from the minute I got to the ballpark until I left, then smoking again. Oh, and between innings sometimes I would go down the runway from the dugout to catch a smoke, with the chew still in my mouth! Yes, boys & girls, I was a picture of health! Did I mention I hit .175?

I made it through without swallowing much of anything. Which was not the case for a backup catcher in Caldwell, Idaho (he came up after I got sent down from Huron; how do you get sent down from Huron? That’s like the country song-‘lyin in the gutter and still lookin’ down at you’). He was catching batting practice one night with a big wad when he took a foul tip in the chest. When he went to his knees I knew we were in for a treat, and there he was projectile vomiting right through his face mask! It was a thing of beauty.

I finally kicked the habit(s) after coaching high school ball for five years every minute with a chew in my mouth. What a role model. But every now and then I still have a hankering for some Red Man, which became the chew of choice in baseball before the prudes in charge banned it. But I usually withstand the pressure and do something healthy, like drink a fifth of Jack Daniels. Much better for me.

An Evening with Pops Derwood

Pops Derwood is practically a celebrity in his living room, so we've asked him to bring that fame and a .205 career batting average to Offbase and share a story or two about his illustrious career in the Chicago Cubs organization. His book, I Didn't See That Fast Ball, But I Heard It, is not scheduled for release until January, 2012, but here is an excerpt.


OK, I swear this is a true story though I wasn’t there. I have it from good sources though, my college roommate and fellow Chicago Cubs farmhand, Tommy Badcock, that this story was completely true. I had already been long gone from the organization when Badcock was in Triple-A with a catcher named Steve Swisher-yea, little Nicky’s Dad. Now Swisher (just like me) was a terrible hitter but not a bad catcher. Not a great catcher (like me), but good nevertheless.

Well (Swisher) was hitting about .150 in Triple-A playing in Iowa and according to Badcock was getting worse and worse. In fact, it was affecting his catching and everyone---and I mean everyone---thought his days were numbered. Even that lousy, crappy Cubs organization wasn’t going to hold on to a Triple-A, so-so catcher hitting a buck and a half.

One lazy, summer afternoon (yes we played in the after-freakin’-noon in those days) during BP there was no Swisher to be found; gone. He wasn't on the field and nobody could find him in the clubhouse either. The word in the outfield during hitting was ‘oh-oh, this could be it.’

And sure enough, a little while later, here comes Swish (original huh?), walking out of the clubhouse onto the field with his big old Cubs equipment bag over his shoulder (catching gear, helmet, gloves etc). Everyone was absolutely sure what that meant: “you don’t have to go home, but you gotta’ leave here.”

As Swisher meandered around the park talking to individual players, he would talk, shake hands, sometimes hug, and move on. Badcock’s group in the outfield just waited for him, head down, and wondered 'what the hell do you say to a guy who just had his life long dream blasted away on him?' (I remember what everyone said to me a few years earlier after being released in Spring Training: “get the hell out of here you’re using up space"). Tommy told me it was the longest five minutes of his life, just waiting for Swisher, who of course was Badcock’s catcher, to make his way out to him.

Slowly, he walked. It seemed like time stood still and when he got to Badcock he looked up with tears in his eyes. (Well that seals it--he’s toast). As if on cue, Swisher looked up, locked eyes with Tommy, and Tommy began to say “sorry Swish” but Swisher beat him to it: “I’m going to Wrigley.”

“Yea, so sorry to hear it, Swish…what did you say?”

“I’m going to Wrigley. Hundley’s hurt and they need a catcher.”

He never came back and played nine years in the big leagues.

Go figure.

Short Text Message Conversations with Pops Derwood

Pops Derwood, a Cubs fan, lives in Virginia and Derwood, a Yankees fan, lives under a wheelbarrow in Atlanta, so occasionally they have to communicate through text messaging. Here's their latest back-and-forth.


Pops Derwood, August 1, 6:15 p.m. - Standing in line at a Wal Mart, two old guys in front of me, one with Yankees hat, other with Redsox hat. Yankees hat farts, loudly, and walks away. Redsox hat farts, too. Walks away. I can't make this stuff up. I'm backing up as we speak.

Derwood, 6:17 p.m. - Do me a favor and see if it was Steve Balboni and Mo Vaughn.

PD, 6:19 p.m. - No. Oscar Gamble and Bernie Carbo.

D, 6:21 p.m. - Well, let me know if you see two guys, one in an Astros hat, one in an Indians hat, burping.

PD, 6:24 p.m. - Hold on, the Yankee hat was Kerry Wood.

D, 6:26 p.m. - That's going to lead to a 15-day DL stint: bruised buttocks. Yankees fans, we call that Pulling a Pavano.

PD, 6:30 p.m. - The cashier already sent him down to K Mart for rehab shopping in pool supplies.

D, 6:33 p.m. - I just hope for Wood's sake Dusty Baker isn't a store manager at that K Mart. He'd make Wood run all 15 registers at once.

PD, 6:38 p.m. - I'm becoming a Seattle Mariners fan.

D, 6:41 p.m. - You better look out, then: I hear Rene Lachemann is at a Home Depot in Virginia, sneezing.

Oversized Yadier Molina Jerseys & the Fall of Cracker Jack Prizes

ANAHEIM - It's amazing that the 81st All-Star Game at Angels Stadium will largely be remembered for a force out at second base. Trailing 3-1 and facing LA closer Jonathan Broxton in the bottom of the ninth, the American League got a lead off single from David Ortiz. After Adrian Beltre struck out on a 98-M.P.H. fastball, John Buck blooped what looked to be a single to right field. Unfortunately for the AL, Ortiz was caught in no-man's land and is also the second-slowest mammal on the face of the earth after my sister's cat Willy.



Right fielder Marlon Byrd flipped to Rafael Furcal at short and in 24 hours the home run derby champ had become the running to second base runner-up.

Pops Derwood (Cubs fan) after Byrd's assist: "He should get the MVP for that."

After I calmed PD down, we watched Ian Kinsler fly out to center on one pitch and the NL had its first win since 1996. Atlanta catcher Brian McCann, who got the only huge hit of the night, a three-run double in the seventh off Matt Thornton that turned out to be the difference in a 3-1 win, picked up MVP honors.

The year of the missed pitch by two feet

As it has most of the 2010 season, pitching dominated the mid-summer classic. Not only were guys like Price, Broxton and Justin Verlander consistently tossing in the mid-to-high-90s, but world-class hitters were missing pitches by a foot. Sometimes multiple feet. There were 18 strike outs in the game, 10 by AL hurlers (and three straight from Crazy Jose Valverde in the ninth), eight from the senior circuit, and there was a lot of bad contact.

FOX showed a graphic during the middle innings: Fastest Pitches of Game. Price led the way with a 100 M.P.H heater, while Verlander and Marlins' ace Josh Johnson each topped out at a pathetic 99. That means if MLB built a super player with the discarded parts of that trio, he'd be Price Verljohnson and he'd throw 298 M.P.H.



First Chun Chen, now you guys?

Chen used a red catcher's mitt in Sunday's Futures Game, and now this: NL teammates David Wright and Brian Wilson each wore orange spikes Tuesday. Of course, Wright went 2-for-2 and Wilson pitched a perfect eighth, so maybe I'm the only one that doesn't think two major league baseball players should've borrowed their shoes from the Parkview High School (GA) fast pitch softball team.

Early Christmas gift ideas for Pops Derwood

Pre-game:

Pops Derwood: "I think I want a Yadier Molina jersey."

Derwood:

PD: "Everyone should have one of those. XXL."

D: "You want an over sized Yadier Molina jersey?"

PD: "....nah."

Buy me some peanuts and a perforated image of George Washington?

Like Steve Trout after 46 1/3 innings with the 1987 Yankees, Cracker Jack may be done.



The ballpark favorite is quickly becoming an afterthought among the nation's young baseball fans with Dippin Dots and cigarettes all the rage nowadays. Even more alarming are the prizes. Cracker Jack used to give away whistles and miniature comic books. PD got a bag (not a box) at the game and his prize was a small booklet talking about George Washington and a perforated picture of Washington as a young man with a chance to fold the edges to reveal him as an adult!

What kid at a summer baseball game would want to do the exact same thing he just did for six months in school?

A kid called No One, that's what kid.

Derwood & Margaret Sitting in the Designated Smoking Area

ANAHEIM - I'll start with a quick conversation I had with Pops Derwood before Monday's Home Run Derby.

Derwood: "I think if they told me I could do one thing before I die, I would ask to shag flies during the HR Derby, just so it could get down to the player's final out, trailing by one home run in the championship round, and I could leap up and rob a home run. Player loses hr derby. And it would have to be the guy playing in his home park. I'd be like Steve Bartman, but for good, not evil."

Pops Derwood (Cubs fan): "Thanks for bringing up Steve Bartman. How long does this thing last?"

D: "About three hours. Really, do you think you would've done well in a home run derby, Mr. One Home Run In High School And There's No Official Record Of It?"

PD: "At least I hit a home run in high school."

D: "That ball I hit on the junior varsity team in 1995 was not a double and a two-base error. That scorekeeper should never have been allowed in a press box, I don't care if she was the assistant principal's daughter and it was her birthday."

PD: "I think you need help. No, I would've been good in this event. What time is it, 5:00? I was a 5:00 hitter. I was the best 5:00 hitter in the history of baseball. From 5:00-6:00, I hit .600. Then from 7:00-10:00 I hit about a buck-58."

D: "I was even earlier than that. I was in the batting cage the day before, hitting ropes off the 60 M.P.H. machine. I was a 2:30 the day before hitter."


And that brings us to the 2010 Derby, because isn't that what we all are-2:30 the day before hitters? That's why we come to Anaheim Stadium to watch these behemoths, and Nick Swisher, wallop baseballs into people, and to watch Golf Glove Man:



Let's play Good/Bad with the '10 Derby

Good - No Chris Berman as Master of Ceremonies.

Bad - Chris Rose was Master of Ceremonies.

Good - Spicy mustard at Angels Stadium.



Dear Baseball Stadiums Which Don't Offer Spicy Mustard,

Offer spicy mustard.

Sincerely,
Offbasepercentage.com


Bad - Corey Hart hit 13 home runs in the first round, including 11 in his first 15 swings. But in the second round, Hart's beard got in the way and the Milwaukee right fielder took an 0-fer.

Good - Ruben the police horse.



Bad - After the derby ended, Ruben the police horse had an accident and everyone had to watch.



Good - Hanley Ramirez, who hit scalding line drives all night, hit 11 in the second round to join Ortiz (13) in the final.

Bad - Ramirez, who got hot early in the final but cooled off, losing 11-5 to Ortiz.

Good - Willie McGee was in the house.



Bad - This Angels logo:



Good - Margaret, an usher who scolded me for leaving the designated smoking area, but when I told her I was just finding a place with less wind to light the cigarette, agreed to become my best friend/possible girlfriend.



Bad - Rose: "Big Papi working up a sweat now." Thankfully they didn't show that on the giant scoreboard in right.