I guess I had been terribly amiss in posting anything to this blog. I ended up picking up an overload class and that has slowed everything down. While taking a break from grading online Frankenstein and Winesburg, Ohio essays I visited my blog and realized that I had managed only one post in October and nothing at all in November, so I thought I should at least throw something up quickly so that I don't forget how to post altogether. And since I'm already missing baseball it seemed logical to put up something on the one perfect sport. During the last game of the Vermont Lake Monsters season they always have a player jersey auction to raise money for charity. I have tried to pick up an actual player jersey on the last day several times, but always failed. My son and I would normally try to figure out who the worst player was an bid on that jersey, figuring that there would be little competition. It makes sense, but somehow we never made it work. And this brings me to the last game of this season, and the most excellent Diomedes Lopez. Now, Diomedes may turn out to be a very fine player and I hope he makes it to the big leagues someday (where I root for him, as I do all ex-Lake Monster and Expo players). That said, he's never done much for the Lake Monsters, which made him a popular player with the Gentlemen of Excellence. For example, this season in 51 games he managed 11 hits for a .216 average, with no home runs, 2 runs scored and 1 RBI. So, obviously, he has developed legendary status with us. Well, that and his rather unique name. When he came up to the plate, which wasn't often, we would try to get a chant of Di-O-Me-Des going, which tended to only draw mystified stares from the other fans. Now, fast forward to the last game of the season, which I ended up going to alone because none of my friends wanted to take in another game (to their never ending shame). Anyway, at the appropriate time I put in my bid for $50, which was the minimum bid, for Diomedes and waited, anxiously, for the results. It was different this time because there was both a silent auction (where you would return repeatedly to the sheet to up your bid) and, if there were still active bidders, a live auction. I came around to check on the status of the process in the 7th inning and saw a big sheet of pages, and next to it one lonely sheet. The guy in charge of the bidding held up the pile of pages and said that there would be a live auction for those players, and then picked up the single sheet and said, "And Mr. Scudder, here's your jersey." I felt a mixture of joy, shame and sorrow. They told me to come back in a half-hour and pick up my jersey at the souvenir booth. When I arrived they souvenir booth they asked me if I wanted it at the end of the game or come back the next day when it was clean. One of the cool things about the auction is that you're supposed to be able to come out on the field and just take the dirty jersey off the players out on the field. Of course, my response to this question was, "How could it be dirty, he never plays?" Suddenly the man said, "Oh, that's right, he's been promoted, so the jersey is already clean and ready for pick-up." This left me even more stunned. Diomedes had already been on the Lake Monsters for two years, and if you spend two years at short season A you are, by definition, not much of a prospect. Nevertheless, and in the face of all logic, Diomedes has, in fact, been promoted to the Stockton Ports of the Class A Advance California League, for which he perforned admirably - with a .286 average, one home run, a RBI and 3 runs scored. I could not be happier for him. Even though I did not have a class the next day, I went up to campus anyway, proudly wearing my number 30 Diomedes Lopez jersey, to mock my friends for their lack of faith and moral courage. DI-O-ME-DES!!!
