How to get one by Willie Mays

I was originally going to title this post Clock Management, but using a hall of famer's name seemed the better move.

Quick backstory on this post.

Last Saturday night in Everett, the Aquasox were facing the Boise Hawks. It rained and forced an 80 minute delay before the start of the game. One of the Hawks outfielders slipped on the warning track in the bottom of the second inning and...

The Boise Hawks forfeited their Northwest League game against the Everett AquaSox on Saturday night after manager Jody Davis pulled his team from the field over what he maintained were unsafe playing conditions.

Davis came out to talk to umpire Matt Mullins for several minutes before instructing his team to leave the field. During the ensuing delay of nearly a half-hour, there were discussions between the umpiring crew and Northwest League president Bob Richmond.

"We had a number of calls," Richmond said. "I understand he took his team off the field and refused to put the team back on the field."

When play resumed, Gebbers returned to his spot on second base and Evan Sharpley moved into the batter's box. The Hawks, however, never left their dugout.

Davis, a former manager of the Peoria Chiefs, has since been suspended six games for his decision. Plus, there is talk of some financial restitution for the Aquasox. If you click on that link up top, you will notice that the Sox are wearing their tie-dye uniforms. That means it was Frogstock, one of their big nights of the season, if you remember from the days of our Mariner affiliation.

That is the set up to this Kirby Arnold blog post at the Everett Herald. There are some interesting stories before the Willie Mays part so click through to see them, but the Say Hey Kid stuff is below and stolen in full. Sorry, Kirby.

[O]ne of my favorite tales is from the days Bob and Margaret Bavasi owned the team. In the early years, they were affillated with the San Francisco Giants and known as the Everett Giants.

Bavasi was able to get Willie Mays to appear for autographs before one game, and he promoted it so well that the line of fans waiting for Willie's signature stretched around the ballpark. The bigger problem was that Mays arrived only about 15 minutes before the start of the game, and then informed Bavasi that he would sign autographs only until the game began.

Bavasi looked at the long line of autograph seekers and figured it would take a half-hour or longer to get them all an autograph, and the last thing he wanted was for any of his fans to wait so long and go home empty-handed.

So Bavasi pleaded with Mays, but the legend was insistent. He told Bavasi that he would sign until gametime, and when he heard the National Anthem, he was outta there.

That's when Bavasi made a couple of astute observations. First, he noticed that Mays never looked up as he signed. Second, he noticed that Mays wasn't wearing a watch.

So Bavasi left the autograph table for a few minutes and spoke with the umpires, then with Everett Memorial Stadium PA announcer Tom Lafferty. He told them the situation and asked that the game not start until he gave them a signal.

As the last person in the autograh line approached the table, well past the scheduled starting time, Bavasi sent word to Lafferty, who played the Anthem over the stadium sound system.

The umpires started the game and Willie Mays never realized how long he'd actually spent signing autographs in Everett.

Of course it happened in Nevada

The new Reno team and the Las Vegas 51s decided that the winner of the season series between the two Pacific Coast League teams would win the Silver State Diamond Challenge.

Unfortunately, the teams split the 16-game series with each winning eight.

Fortunately, this is Nevada. There was an easy way to settle the tie without another pesky baseball game getting in the way. The Las Vegas Sun picks up the story here.

Las Vegas Mayor Oscar Goodman and Reno Mayor Bob Cashell broke the stalemate in true Nevada fashion.

By drawing a card.

Oscar drew a 7. Bob drew a 6.

Thus, the 51s will get to display the Silver State Diamond Challenge trophy at Cashman Field for the next year.

Gambling. Is there anything it can't solve.

In the Times

South Bend Silver Hawk Clay Zavada gets a profile in the Times....The New York Times. Before getting to that story, though. Here is something the reporter had in a sidebar as the difference between Zavada and a guy who just signed for with the Yankees.

Zavada earned $1,150 a month last summer with the Class A South Bend Silver Hawks. That would have amounted to $6,900 had he played the entire six-month season.

Using statistics from Sabathia’s last five seasons, he will, based on his new salary, earn $6,934 for each pitch he throws as a Yankee.

Zavada said he did not begrudge players like Sabathia.

“I’ve got a lot of respect for the guys that get paid what they get,” he said. “I don’t know what you’d do with all that money, but it’s definitely rewarding for how hard it is to get through the minor leagues."

To the story which expands a bit on the topic:

Days before the Yankees signed C. C. Sabathia to a $161 million deal, one of the Arizona Diamondbacks’ most promising minor league pitchers rose before dawn at his house on the outskirts of this central Illinois town.

An overnight storm had coated the roads in ice, and the thermometer read 8 degrees. It was the perfect morning to sleep in, but not for Clay Zavada, who steered his Nissan Sentra toward town — past frozen cornstalks, an abandoned farmhouse and the red lights of windmills blinking in the distance. A dilapidated motel and a series of fast-food restaurants indicated his arrival in Streator.

Zavada could not afford to be late. This was the only time the high school gym would be empty, and his old coach — the assistant principal — would have time to catch for him.

“If you don’t get it done early and get it out of the way, it’s kind of hard to get it done,” Zavada said, slamming a two-seam fastball toward the gloved hand of Nick McGurk. “You’ve got to get in here and get it done.”

Once the sun came up, Zavada knew there would be other demands on his time. His uncle might call him to work at the family sawmill. A cousin in the construction business often needs a hand. And Zavada has a long list of chores waiting for him on the 40-acre property his father left him and his brother — logs to be split and sold for firewood, a go-kart awaiting refurbishing and posting on eBay, or the thick bushes choking a grove of walnut trees that need clearing. For that task of protecting the trees, the federal government sends him a small yearly subsidy.

Despite an impressive 0.51 earned run average and a 3-1 record last season as a reliever for the Class A South Bend Silver Hawks, Zavada, 24, must work outside of baseball to pay his bills. Last season, he earned $280 a week — before taxes — from the Silver Hawks. His income is typical of the roughly 4,500 minor league players, about 10 percent of whom will play in even one major league game.

Then, there is a bit on page two about life in Streator folllowed by this:

Like many of his neighbors, Zavada’s livelihood relies on a mix of odd jobs and an entrepreneurial spirit. He is a regular at the Streator pawn shop, searching for underappreciated treasures that can be sold online. During the harvest, he drove a truck for a farmer who had shattered his ankle after falling off a grain bin.

His pitching is equally versatile. Zavada takes pride in his best pitch, a changeup, and said that for now, baseball was his priority. But it is clear that he also takes pleasure in other tasks, like clearing brush behind his house, or slicing an old telephone pole into smooth, straight boards at his uncle’s sawmill. Using his pitching hand to line up the blades of an industrial saw may make the Diamondbacks’ management cringe, but Zavada says he will not give it up.

“You got to do what you got to do,” he said. “It’s how I grew up, you know. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Last Sunday, Zavada spotted an opossum that had been wandering around his property for days. He grabbed his grandfather’s shotgun over the fireplace and raced outside. Later, as Gunner trotted toward the house with the carcass in his mouth, Zavada ordered the dog to drop it. With any luck, he explained, this animal may attract another.

Head over for an interesting read.

Language Lessons

Last season, some of the Spanish speaking Timber Rattlers attended an English class. Geoff Baker of the Seattle Times goes to Becky Schnakenberg's class in Arizona and reports.

A young ballplayer never stops learning.

That's especially true on this night for Mariners catching prospect Israel Nunez and a dozen of his fellow minor-leaguers from Latin America.

They've already spent the day blocking balls in the dirt, throwing in the bullpen and trying to hit off-speed pitches.

But now they're on to something really important. Like figuring out what they should never joke about in airports.

"Bombs!" shouts Nunez, a native of Mexico who arrived in the United States last year to play rookie-league ball.

The teacher at the front of their makeshift classroom, felt marker ready at a white board, asks him to spell the word.

"B-O-M-B-S," Nunez says, proudly, enunciating each letter.

"Wow, that was great, Israel!" replies the teacher. "Keep this up and you'll be done needing this class. You're this close!"

The players are all rookie level and Class A Mariners prospects, ages 18 to 22, sent to the evening class to work on their English and learn about life in the United States. Not just as ballplayers who have to understand on-field instruction in another language, but as civilians needing to order food in restaurants, learn local dating etiquette and figure out how not to get arrested when walking through airport security.

Baker also finds comedy gold.

"What happens if you can't find your gate, you don't know where to go?" Schnakenberg asks. "What's the phrase you would say?"

"Do you speak Spanish?" a player deadpans.

Entertaining stuff. So is the rest of the article.