Off Topic
Travelblog of Thom S. Hunter
Editor’s Note: This is a running blog that will cover minor league players in the Yellow Springs organization. We initiated it because this kid reporter was hired without my knowledge, and we needed to do something with him. He seems flaky to me. Seems like a waste of good cash. But what do I know? Good luck.
July 4, 2045: CAT ISLAND – One might suggest that the most impressive thing about Tyler Lawman is his name.
That’s what I’ve begun to think, anyway, as I sit here and watch the moon set on the Ocean and knock back another rum and whatever this soft drink is. It’s sticky and sweet, so I guess that’s okay. It gives me something do while I think back on tonight’s 6-5 Pirate loss in which Lawman gave up a tasty five earned runs in his 3 innings of work.
You look at the line (4 Ks, 2 walks, no HR) and you might be tempted to think the kid just got unlucky. That’s what the line will look like in Yellow Springs, anyway, when the bigwigs wake up and check the ticker tape, that’s what they’ll see. What they won’t get is the way that hitter’s eyes lit up as they want to the plate. Big as saucers, those eyes. Bright as a kid heading toward Santa Claus on a cold winter night.
The kid signed a minor league deal back in April after being signed and released by several teams from around the world—which, since the kid is still only 19 years old, you have to wonder if he might hold some kind of world record for rejection, but I digress.
The guy throws 99 miles an hour, they say. His circle change might some day get BBA hitters out, they wail. Godspeed man, Godspeed.
Right now Tyler Lawman lives in a rinky-dinky room they call an apartment on the beach of a tropical island, and gets paid a few buck to throw pitches in minor league baseball games. He’s a bit of a local celebrity because every time he walks into a room, someone says “is that a gun in your pants, Lawman, or are you just happy to see us?” What 19-year-old wouldn’t be having a blast here, right?
Let’s forgive the fact that as of tonight he’s started six baseball games and allowed 3 runs, 2 runs, 2 runs, 3 runs, 4 runs and 5 runs—which seems to me to mean that he represents the Fibonacci of starting pitchers. Who am I to say, though? I’m not math major. I'm a failed journalist major, which I'd argue means I'm perfectly credentialed to get it wrong and still be right.
Regardless of all that, if you're asking for a break-down, if you're looking for the skinny, if you want to know what I think when I toss the island bones and read the fall, all I can say right now is that the club has 18 pitchers in their Short-A roster, and another 17 in Rookie Ball in New Mexico. When I do that math the answer I get is that Lawman had better be enjoying that view from the apartment on the beach, because I’m not sure how much longer it’s going to last.
July 4, 2045: CAT ISLAND – One might suggest that the most impressive thing about Tyler Lawman is his name.
That’s what I’ve begun to think, anyway, as I sit here and watch the moon set on the Ocean and knock back another rum and whatever this soft drink is. It’s sticky and sweet, so I guess that’s okay. It gives me something do while I think back on tonight’s 6-5 Pirate loss in which Lawman gave up a tasty five earned runs in his 3 innings of work.
You look at the line (4 Ks, 2 walks, no HR) and you might be tempted to think the kid just got unlucky. That’s what the line will look like in Yellow Springs, anyway, when the bigwigs wake up and check the ticker tape, that’s what they’ll see. What they won’t get is the way that hitter’s eyes lit up as they want to the plate. Big as saucers, those eyes. Bright as a kid heading toward Santa Claus on a cold winter night.
The guy throws 99 miles an hour, they say. His circle change might some day get BBA hitters out, they wail. Godspeed man, Godspeed.
Right now Tyler Lawman lives in a rinky-dinky room they call an apartment on the beach of a tropical island, and gets paid a few buck to throw pitches in minor league baseball games. He’s a bit of a local celebrity because every time he walks into a room, someone says “is that a gun in your pants, Lawman, or are you just happy to see us?” What 19-year-old wouldn’t be having a blast here, right?
Let’s forgive the fact that as of tonight he’s started six baseball games and allowed 3 runs, 2 runs, 2 runs, 3 runs, 4 runs and 5 runs—which seems to me to mean that he represents the Fibonacci of starting pitchers. Who am I to say, though? I’m not math major. I'm a failed journalist major, which I'd argue means I'm perfectly credentialed to get it wrong and still be right.
Regardless of all that, if you're asking for a break-down, if you're looking for the skinny, if you want to know what I think when I toss the island bones and read the fall, all I can say right now is that the club has 18 pitchers in their Short-A roster, and another 17 in Rookie Ball in New Mexico. When I do that math the answer I get is that Lawman had better be enjoying that view from the apartment on the beach, because I’m not sure how much longer it’s going to last.