Despite Nationals' hilarious flubs, Tigers get the last laugh

Nationals second baseman Willie Harris and the umpire share a chuckle after Harris caught a popup on his fourth try.

Tigers batters slap hands after scoring on a two-run home run, which gave Detroit a 3-2 edge over Washington, and eventually the win.

Without alcohol, it's sometimes difficult to stay occupied throughout a nine-inning baseball game. Especially when it's the Washington Nationals.

But the perennially bottom-tier team found a way to entertain fans Monday at its last spring training game of the year at Space Coast Stadium in Viera. And it was by shear ineptitude.

Willie Harris of the Nationals, who more frequently plays outfield now, started at second base, where he has played much of his career. Maybe his time away from the position played into his performance.

The first mishap was when the first baseman went after a popup in foul territory. Harris rushed to get behind Adam Dunn, called him off - I got it, I got it, I got it - and proceeded to miss the ball. It should have been Dunn's catch. At the end of the half inning, Dunn jokingly tossed Harris a popup. Harris squared his body, and caught it. The crowd cheered.

In the fourth inning, on probably the highest-hit ball of the day, Harris misjudged the popup, which fell to the grass behind him. Harris also fell (above), but after getting a checkout from a trainer, he stayed on the field. He was charged with an error. The crowd applauded.

Meanwhile, the fans showed skill, catching foul balls left and right (above). Most of them could have pulled off a "Rookie of the Year" moment and taken Harris' slot at second base.

In the fifth, Harris chased a popup near the first-base line, but it went over his head, again hitting the ground in foul territory. He wasn't charged with an error, but it was a catchable ball. He bent down, ripped up some grass and threw it into the air, checking for wind speed and direction. But that's something you would more often see Tiger Woods doing. The crowd laughed. I stood up and yelled, "Apparently, third time isn't a charm."

Finally, on a high popup to shallow right-center field, Harris tracked the ball through its flight (above) and actually caught the thing. The crowd gave him a standing ovation. The umpire laughed. Harris gave a bow (below). After the inning, Harris lifted his arms for a curtain call as he headed into the dugout.

But, yet again because of the Nats' ineptitude, opponent Detroit Tigers got the last laugh. They won, 3-2. Fortunately for Harris, none of those runs were a direct result of his defensive issues.

Adam Dunn had two strikeouts on the day.

At ballgame, getting money's worth is a matter of opinion

Nationals teammates greet Brad Eldred, who hit the game-winning home run.

Fans celebrate the end of the game.

In an effort to do something constructive with my time off - in other words, to stimulate the economy - I took in a Washington Nationals spring training game against the Houston Astros.

And man, did I pay.

I'm a huge fan of baseball but not of watching it from cheap seats. That's why I sprang for the $20 box seat on the third-base line. That, of course, is after the $5 parking fee.

And that's when one realizes that, in a time of great economic hardship and declining consumer spending, who in his right mind would pay $20 for a ticket to an exhibition game?

Lonely me, that's who.

Yes, I went alone to Space Coast Stadium and sat in the third row for the nighttime game. I didn't drink beer. I didn't eat a hot dog. The only conversation I had was when a woman sitting two seats down said, "Well, that's one way to do it," when I climbed over the seatback from the empty row behind me, the easiest way to access my pricey hard-plastic folding chair. I said, "Yep."

And that was that. Not a word out of me from then on.

With the Nationals scoring five runs in the first inning - including some power hitting - and the Astros scoring throughout the game to catch up, I thought I might be getting my money's worth.

When the action slowed - the Nationals only scored one more run in regulation - two drunken fans behind me provided comedic relief. They didn't know each other: One called the other "The Cuban," apparently because he was somewhat Hispanic, and The Cuban called the other "Ankiel" because of the Rick Ankiel Cardinals jersey he was wearing. Their banter boiled down to a bunch of "your mother" jokes and climaxed with The Cuban using Ankiel's cell phone to call Ankiel's mother. I needn't say more.

But like most acts these days, their comedic stylings were profane. They drove off the young family sitting in front of me. "We've got a baby here," another mother said. And after multiple ushers and the sheriff's deputy gave them warnings, the cursing funnymen were kicked out.

After they drove everyone else from my section and after the drunkards themselves were ejected, the reality set in: I had paid $20 for a game in which beer was more important than baseball. Before he left, The Cuban said he paid $8 for a ticket and found an empty $20 box seat, where he carried on his drunken ramblings with another drunken ticketholder.

I had been duped.

But then the Astros scored in the ninth inning, forcing the game into overtime. This is promising, I thought. I was getting more for my money.

Then, in the bottom of the 10th, Washington's Brad Eldred, a native Floridian, cranked a pitch into the left-field cheap seats. The 2-run walk-off homer gave the home team an 8-6 win.

The rest of the Nationals greeted Eldred at home plate, gave him high-fives and jumped up and down. How exciting. Well worth the 20 bucks.

But I couldn't avoid thinking that someone who paid $12 less caught that ball.

Man, I was taken for a ride.

The third-base umpire makes small talk with Astros outfielder Darin Erstad.

Astros outfielder Darin Erstad makes small talk with the third-base umpire.

The boys of summer and the lazy days of summer - in winter

Mr. Pitcher No. 35 attempts to catch a ball.

Massive crowds harass a player as he tries to leave one of the Nationals practice fields in Viera.

I had a good idea to write about laziness and my attempt to snap out of it, but it fizzled with two grapefruit-juice disasters as I sat down to type.

Yes, let me tell you about my grapefruit juice. I love mixing it with Sprite. The citrus flavors are complementary; they're natural companions.

But crisis No. 1 came about when I shook the juice bottle, inadvertently rattling the cap right off. My power surprises me sometimes. Unfortunately, Barack Obama could do nothing about this crisis.

Then, after the previous mess was wiped clean, my fingers slipped across the condensation of my glass, which sent it tumbling onto my clean apartment carpet and my clean apartment walls. I ran for the paper towels to soak the bubbly mess off the floor before its surface tension broke.

With some Resolve, a damp old T-shirt, 30 minutes of TV-watching time and some resolve, I beat the mess. All that's left are cursory scrub patterns in the nap of the carpet.

Pink stains and drawn-out, recession-like crisis averted.

But the other result is less visible. After my brief housecleaning stint, I was winded. Those violent scrubbing motions stole my breath. Much of it has to do with that laziness I meant to tell you about.

I spend most of my spare time in the depths of my couch's cushions, soaking in what my new high-definition television puts out. I'd be better served if I got out once in a while. Watching maintenance workers pound their hammers into the roof of the apartment building on the other side of the parking lot might teach me more about life than "The Office," "House Hunters" or the Monday night movie on FX.

That's why I hoped Monday morning was going to snap me out of the lazy bastard blues.

As longtime Offlede patrons know, I frequented workouts of the Washington Nationals and the Los Angeles Dodgers during spring training last year. I even fought crowds to get autographs.

Monday was my last chance to catch a Nationals practice, before the preseason got under way. I woke up at a reckless hour: 9. I knew it was a bad idea to go to bed at 6.

My first glimpse of the Carl Barger Complex, a system of training fields in Viera, was reassuring: I'm not the only lazy person in Florida. There were only a handful of cars in the lot and just a smattering of kids behind the outfield fence trying to catch home run balls during batting practice. It was probably 30 percent of last year's spectator levels, if I were to put a number to it.

Just like last year, the players walked among the fans as an air horn prompted them to scurry from one field to another, where the next drill awaited them. Just like last year, players were willing to sign a ball, a card, a bat or a hat if a little girl or an old man asked them to.

Unlike last year, there weren't many people to ask for autographs. And I actually felt mildly creepy when I tried to take photos of the players, because I was joined by no one. Attendants, many of whom I recognized, walked around with their hands in their pockets.

"I might get a hot dog, and put it in my pocket here," one told two others. "I'll rip off some and eat it once in a while. There's nothing else to do."

Another Nats employee, a rather old fellow, pointed at the batting cages and showed another attendant where the fans lined up for autographs last year.

"I can't believe this (stuff)," he said. (He didn't really say "stuff.") "Where are all the people?"

This Maryland guy and his wife, whom he apparently calls The African Queen, was there to chat with players and write about them on his blog. I saw him last year, too.

I talked with a man from Merritt Island who was there, like me, to take photos and not be lazy. His last visit was when the Montreal Expos still existed. But I had a Nikon, and he had a Canon, so that was the end of our conversation. (Think Mac and PC.)

There was no line at the concession stand. The field-side memorabilia store wasn't even open. And the bleachers, well, they were empty.

As I twitched - it's a thing I do when I'm tired - on down the main palm tree-line walkway that runs through the heart of the complex, I let out a hearty yawn. A Nats worker asked, "Pretty boring, isn't it?"

Spilling grapefruit juice was the most exciting thing to happen to me lately. Sure beats the Grapefruit League.

Bunting practice!!!! So exciting!!!!

This child had the run of the house.

Fielding ground balls. Fundamentals first.

Fence. Awesome fence.

The walk of fame, with nobody to watch. ... The walk of shame.

New York Mets' Marlon Anderson gloves, dips, dives, recovers

New York Mets first baseman Marlon Anderson did a little tumble once he caught a pop fly Monday during the St. Patrick's Day game with the Washington Nationals.

Play through the above video to see my photos of the occasion.

The wind was blowing fiercely toward the outfield, blowing a ball, which at first seemed bound for the stands behind the Nats' dugout, back into the field of play. Anderson had a difficult time judging exactly where it would come down.

He had the beat on it the whole time and made the catch. But he was backpedaling when he did. And we all know New Yorkers have very little balance when it comes to important things, especially when they get back into a corner (see Eliot Spitzer). So he got tripped up, went to the ground and did a backward somersault on the turf.

But fortunately for the Mets, he held on. Unfortunately for the Nats, he held on.

The Boys of Spring home

Relive the magic of spring training with The Offlede

in review

The Boys of Spring

Spring training baseball in Florida

For The Offlede, Major League Baseball's spring training provided opportunities for new experiences: meeting professional athletes, jockeying for a position to get their autographs, getting perfect photos of them practicing and playing. It's a time when the fans get up close to the objects of their cheering and season-long devotion, and when the rookies have a chance to prove themselves. From a mean look from former Yankees third baseman Aaron Boone, to a heated argument by Tommy Lasorda, to the end of an era in Dodgertown, this is my take on The Boys of Spring.

Offlede gets motivated, visits Nationals

Attempting to cure my case of the lazies that had me couch-ridden, I jumped off the leather piece of furniture and went to watch spring training workouts. I'm a huge baseball fan, and the stadium is only 10 minutes away, so I really didn't have an excuse. I annoyed Nationals manager Manny Acta, above, with my camera.

I forgive you, Aaron !@#$&% Boone

Aaron Boone looks at me like I'm stupid. He wants to say to me, "Are you serious? I'm trying to sign this bat. Stop taking photos! Let me concentrate! Does this look easy to you?" This also was the first day of the new telephoto lens, so the photos were improved.

D-Lowe, Nomar are still together

I hit up Dodgertown, the Los Angeles spring training complex in Vero Beach, about a 50-minute haul from Melb0urne. I got peaks at former Sox stars Nomar Garciaparra and Derek Lowe, as well as Tommy Lasorda, Joe Torre and Don Mattingly.

Wily Mo Pena misses Red Sox

Wily Mo Pena seems quite distressed now that he's with a losing team, the Washington Nationals. He was known for many great blasts over the Green Monster and onto Lansdown Street during his time with the Red Sox. He added his autograph to my Nats baseball. I also got close to Bret Boone.

Astros stick tongues out at fans

Kissimmee has been the red hot French Kissimmee in the past few days because Roger Clemens just started to throw batting practice to minor leaguers. And because he's fighting off accusations of steroid use, he has had more to worry about than the L-screen and the occasional line-drive that gets by it. I wonder if he would do any better against major leaguers.

Georgetown students face pros

The Washington Nationals played their first home spring training game against the Georgetown Hoyas, a college team. It would have been funny if the Nats had lost, but they didn't. The Hoyas got crushed, 14-0. The kid above got about a million free baseballs.

Troy Glaus and I ask, "What's the deal?"

What's the deal with ticket distribution these days? I paid $40 for two "good" seats at Space Coast Stadium to see a spring training game. But apparently, they weren't as good as I thought. And when I tried to improve them, I got the boot.

Red Sox come to Dodgertown

The final hours are winding down on the Los Angeles Dodgers' storied history at Dodgertown, the Vero Beach complex that is known for its family friendly atmosphere and that still conjures the old, high-socks days of Major League Baseball. A Dodgers game against the Boston Red Sox was a perfect opportunity to see the packed Holman Stadium for myself and to see the Sox in action for my first time.

Tommy Lasorda argues with umpire

The old man still has it. As Joe Torre and the rest of the Los Angeles Dodgers made for a spring training game in China, the better half of the split squad was under the management of 80-year-old Norristown, Pa., native Tommy Lasorda. And he gave 'em hell.

Mets celebrate holiday, new governor

New Yorkers hope the luck of the Irish, above, helps plow a path toward political success in their state with new Gov. David Paterson, who replaced disgraced Democrat Eliot Spitzer. Maybe it will leave them dancing in fields of green, as the Mets did with a 7-4 win.

Marlon Anderson gloves, dips, dives

New York Mets first baseman Marlon Anderson did a little tumble once he caught a pop fly during the St. Patrick's Day game with the Washington Nationals. Watch a slideshow of the event.

Let's play a game: Was J.D. Drew safe, or was he out?

Above: Red Sox third baseman J.D. Drewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, as fans call him each time he bats, readies to swing the bat. Below: He hit a soft little ground ball into the infield. But because it was soft, Drew had a chance to beat it out. What do you think? Was he safe, or was he out?

OUT!


The final hours are winding down on the Los Angeles Dodgers' storied history at Dodgertown, the Vero Beach complex that is known for its family friendly atmosphere and that still conjures the old, high-socks days of Major League Baseball.

Sunday's game against the Boston Red Sox was a perfect opportunity to see the packed Holman Stadium for myself and to see the Sox in action for the first time. I have been a fan my whole life, but Sunday was my first game. And it counts, too, even if it was just an exhibition.

The place was full. Even the berm in the outfield was covered with baseball fanatics - most of them rooting for the Sox, of course. Because it was one of the final games at Dodgertown for Los Angeles and that it was against the Sox made it theeee place to be.

I saw people from Maine, New Hampshire - you know all those cold places up North. It was good to be among folks speaking Boston and Down East accents again.

The Sox lost, 4-0. But it's just spring training: It doesn't really count.

Manny Ramirez showed some good hustle at Dodgertown. Of course, my seat was kind of in a poor location in the left-field corner of the outfield stands, so he's the player my camera and I became the most intimately involved with. In these photos, he makes some nice plays on a few lazy fly balls. Below, he had to run almost 10 yards to catch this one. He just got there for it, but center fielder Joe Thurston made it all the way from right-center to offer his support.

Now, this is a ticket I would support: legendary Red Sox broadcaster Jerry Remy for president. The Massachusetts native played second base for the Sox in the late 1970s and early '80s: the kind of resume fit for the White House.

David Ortiz smacks a double to the center field wall. The hit came on the first pitch after an infielder dropped a pop fly on the third base line, giving Big Papi a second life.

Daisuke "Dice-K" Matsuzaka had somewhat of a poor showing, giving up a three-run homer in the second inning to Dodgers outfielder Matt Kemp. The Sox hitters didn't give him much run support, though. In fact, they didn't give him any.

Terry "Tito" Francona gives Dice-K the hook, as Sox catcher Doug Mirabelli gives the strikeout prince a tap on the bottom with his mitt.

The Boys of Spring home

Spring training day in photos: I forgive you, Aaron !@#$&% Boone

Aaron Boone looks at me like I'm stupid. He wants to say to me, "Are you serious? I'm trying to sign this bat. Stop taking photos! Let me concentrate! Does this look easy to you?"

Aaron Boone plays catch with Dmitri Young.

Aaron Boone does fielding drills with inferior teammates.

It was day two for me at Washington Nationals spring training. It was day one with my new 18-200mm zoom lens ... with vibration reduction. Some shots came out all right. Others did not. I've learned a lot I can do differently tomorrow.

The position players arrived today, and the workout started a bit late - at 10 a.m. instead of 9:30. I was there for the entire thing. And boy, was it great.

The weather has been warmer than usual, but it isn't humid as it usually is, so it felt like a hot summer day in Maine. It was bearable, but I now have a red face and arms because of it.

The first player I noticed was Aaron Boone, the much-hated former third baseman for the New York Yankees. Much-hated, that is, to Red Sox fans. He was the one compared to Bucky Dent and credited for perpetuating the Curse of the Bambino when he cranked an 13th-inning homer over the left-field wall to give the Yanks the American League Championship over the Sox.

Live and let live, though. He's not working for the Evil Empire anymore. He's a good guy now.

Players split into four groups and scattered first to the batting cages, then to four separate practice fields for situation drills in fielding, hitting and base-running. It reminded me of my high school glory days at second base: The professionals get the same couching in the fundamentals that I did.

Some drills take tremendous mental sharpness. As catcher Johnny Estrada hit, the couch tossing the easy cheese barked out situations, demanding that the hitter react in a matter of seconds and do the right thing with the bat.

"Man on third, nobody out." He drills a fly ball to center field.

"Man on second, nobody out." He grounds a sacrifice to first base.

"Man first, two out." Base hit, right field.

The concessions (above: workers smiling because I befriended them) were surprisingly cheap. Two bucks for a hot dog. Two bucks for a soda. I would rather not pay two George Washingtons for a Diet Coke, but the hot dog was worth it.

As the players were walking off the field, fans again swarmed around them. Mostly, they were bugging Barry Larkin, above, the former Cincinnati Reds star shortstop who works for the Nats in some capacity. I was taking a lot of photos, but I wasn't interested in autographs. But I asked myself, "Why not? Duh, you only live twice. You might as well."

So I paid $8 for a Nats logo-emblazoned baseball and got signatures from Larkin, Boone, wannabe first baseman Nick Johnson (both photos above, also a former Yank), wannabe first baseman Dmitri Young, right-fielder Austin Kearns and shortstop Felipe Lopez.

Man, if I got that many autographs of that great quality, imagine what I could do if I actually tried.

The best part of Friday was when a local ABC sports reporter from Washington asked Young, above, about the meaning of playing in D.C.

"New York is a nice city and everything. That's where all the money is," he said. "But Washington is our nation's capital. There's nothing better than our nation's capital."

Well, it's a close second behind Maine.

Christian Guzman plays toss with a special, nearly pocketless infielder's glove meant to facilitate quick and easy transfer from glove to throwing hand.

Lovable catcher Johnny Estrada models his tats.



Catcher Paul Lo Duca says, "Ball. ... Ball ball ball ball ball ball. Yaayyyyy. Ball."

At least one of the fans at the fence was suspicious of the clicking behind him.

The workout wasn't very physical, but these players found the need to jog. Slow down, guys. You're gonna have a heart attack.

Uh, it's a basket of balls on one of the practice fields.



This is the souvenir trailer where I dished out the eight smackers for a ball for autographs.

The Boys of Spring home