THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, March 23, 1996 TAG: 9603230460
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Tom Robinson
DATELINE: SUFFOLK LENGTH: Medium: 68 lines
As March winds remove the caps from chimneys and pitchers, as chapped hands screech when frozen bat meets rock-hard ball, as April rains loom, you realize that, in a perfect world, high school baseball around here would be played in the fall.
Because nothing is as imperfect, year to year, than the early season conditions that afflict baseball - and softball - players.
``I'd love to play in the fall,'' Nansemond River baseball coach Phil Braswell said this week as his team endured yet another indoor workout. ``We have decent weather around here till the first week of November, and it doesn't rain much. I've never heard it mentioned, though. But I often say that to myself when I'm working on the field in the fall.''
The Warriors had been on that field, a state-of-the-art job complete with warning track and electronic scoreboard, five or six times before their first game, which was scheduled for Friday.
They did manage two scrimmages, though Jerry Varacallo's softball team wasn't so lucky. Weather killed both their scrimmages, so the Warriors entered Friday's opener untested.
Not that Nansemond River is alone in its cabin fever. It's epidemic most every year, though '96 has been particularly raw and mucky, Braswell says.
He's spent too much time in the gym, and it's not even his gym. The track team gets the high school gym, so baseball and softball move up to John Yeates Middle School to approximate a real practice.
``Spit on the floor and do this,'' Braswell says, rubbing saliva into the basketball court with his sneaker. Pitcher Evan Spivey's feet are slipping as he throws across the gym to a catcher, and ground-in spit creates traction.
Nearby, a net batting cage is strung up the width of the court. Inside, a pitching machine spits yellow balls toward a batter who swings tentatively amid the murky light and pale backdrop.
``It's boring,'' pitcher Grayson Craun says, watching his teammate hack away. ``Look at him. Does he look like he's having fun?''
At the other end, players skip grounders to each other in what passes for infield practice. Sprints have already been run, in the hall.
Is this any way to get back to the state playoffs? The Warriors take heart. They spent plenty of time indoors last season, too, yet the girls reached the Group AA state final and the boys made the semifinals.
Still, Braswell confides, ``I haven't had enough time to work on our offense. I don't know what that thing's gonna look like.''
He'd know if this was August instead of March. It's a radical idea, but for pure practicality, fall ball is the way to go. Many teams already play it informally. It's warm, the players are game-ready from summer play. There can be advanced instruction, more improvement.
But sure, you'd lose kids and coaches to football, the money sport. It would upset the traditional school calendar, a truly controversial concept. That's why it won't happen, despite the sense it makes.
Even Craun concedes that spring baseball is a historic sign of good times ahead - summer, the beach, the end of school - and should not be changed. Which doesn't mean he enjoys frigid fastballs off the hands more than the next guy.
``When it's really cold, batting gloves just don't do the trick,'' says Craun, noting a recent outdoor session. ``My hands stung so bad I couldn't take it anymore. I quit. I didn't want to hit again until the warmer weather.''
Baseball weather, that is. And it is coming. Isn't it? by CNB