Rizzo says this is a “transition” year.  That I need to understand that it’s a process. I get a little bit better at a time, not a lot better all at once.   And Rizzo knows his stuff, he’s one of the best hitters in the entire BTH league.

There are people on the internet who say I’m not trying or that I’m slacking because I’m not enough better.  This bothers me.  I work harder than anyone else I know.  I work harder than most people I *don’t* know.  If these bloggers could come to Cancun or a road city and watch me at practice, they would know that I’m the first in and last out.  I also spend time with that virtual pitcher software when we’re playing at home.  I talked about that before.  I also analyze video and do other things that happen away from the sight of fans and the media.

I am not an MVP or an All-Star.  But I am a starting shortstop for a championship team.  Basically, that says it all.  I’m good enough to keep this job.  If my openness offends anyone, I apologize. I’m a regular guy.  I earn my paycheck.  And I’m proud to be a member of the best team in the Bring the Heat league.  I don’t need awards to prove my worth.

I think that might be part of why the bloggers don’t like me, though.  They misunderstood what my issue was.  I am not an All-Star.  I *am* a starting shortstop.  I’d rather be the starting shortstop for the Cancun Horror than be pretty much anything else you could think of.  This is who I am and where I belong.

To you bloggers out there hiding behind your cute pseudonyms:  I don’t do what I do to impress anyone, least of all you.  I do what I do for love.  If I am not the best player on your fantasy team, well boo-hoo, I’m not the best player in BTH either.  But my role is important and no one could do it better than I do.  So buzz off.

Some of it i can say and some of it I can’t.  I’m known for trying to reach balls that are out of the strike zone.  It’s not that I don’t *know* they’re out of the zone–I just think I can hit them usefully.  So I end up going down swinging. Pitchers on other teams know this and so play right into it. So what we’re working on is not swinging at balls that are not in the zone.  It’s tougher than it sounds.

There are two kinds of knowledge–head knowledge and heart knowledge.  Head knowledge is easy to change when information is presented. Heart knowledge is less so. It is a kind of feeling and is sometimes called “instinct”. It is hard to change except by practice and more practice.

Rizzo is a patient teacher.  He and I spend time every day now working on this.  In the spring training games, I looked better, but will the difference show up in real ball against real pitchers? Spring training has scrubs on all sides of the game: pitching, fielding and hitting. Once April arrives and rosters are set to 25, you know you’ll be facing a real pitcher every at-bat.  Which is why spring training numbers mean nothing.

Tomorrow is Opening Day and I am ready to show people that I’ve been working on developing better habits.   I’m sure I’ll go fishing sometimes, but Rizzo helped me with checking my swing so that even if I started, I didn’t commit.  It’s not that he taught me *how* to check my swing. A better way to say what he did is that he taught me *when*.   He taught it to my heart.  My head knew.  That’s part of why I would miss so many pitches.  My head would say no and my heart would say yes and >whiff< I would get a swinging strike.

The way he taught me might seem kind of  funny.  He’d get someone to pitch to me and tell them to only throw balls outside the zone (this is why they have BP pitchers–you don’t screw with a real pitcher like that) and then he told me to check on every pitch. That taught my heart to check.  It only took about four days for the improvement to be seen.

So tomorrow, when I step into the batter’s box, I’ll be ready to do the right thing. Or more ready anyway.

For all of that, I do have some sadness.   Orochi-san will not be back in green.  Instead he’s gone to our rival, the Bombers.   I wrote him a note.  In English.  For as hard as i work on the infield, I should have worked that hard on his note and written it in Japanese. It may not have made any difference, but I feel bad about slacking.  I miss his presence, but I know baseball is a business.

And i understand how coming from me that note was worth it’s weight in horsefeathers.  Every time I think I’m past it, it comes ’round to bite me.  I intended to walk out.  I didn’t though, but intentions are worth a lot in clubhouse coin.

Enough whining.   Spring training is marvelous when you’re the champs.  When we’d go play Buffalo, it was like a home crowd.  Other places, too.   People want to watch us play.  They like us.

Well, okay, that’s not quite true.  They don’t like *us*–what they like is winning.  The Cancun Horror has never had these kind of band wagon fans before.  When you sign, they don’t know who you are. I have been asked, “Who are you?  You’re a Horror right?”  The way they ask it you know they’ve seen you but don’t care enough to find out your name.   They’re not real fans.  I understand these fans pay the bills, but it isn’t as fun to sign for them.   You know they are going to turn around and sell that auto to some real fan.   I’ve been tempted to sign as “Cthulhu” when I know it’s these kinds of fans but I’ve been too chicken.  They wouldn’t get the joke.

I actually played baseball in spring training–it’s not all signing.  Our new hitting coach, Rhino, worked with me on “How Not to Strike Out”.   Since i mostly go down swinging it was all about being more selective.  In a nutshell, I’m supposed to “stop trying so hard” and not go after stuff out of the zone “even if [I] know [I] can hit it.”

Oh look, jorge finally was able to think of the team first

–Ryan Shelton

Really?  Well, it’s not as if Mister I-will-walk knows much about what “team” even means.  I made a mistake.  I made amends.  My teammates, coaches, manager and pretty much everyone in the organization forgave me.  We are moving forward.

This comment shows that, if anything, Ryan Shelton is moving backward.  Regressing.  What a baby. If he gave a rat’s ass about the team, he would make the same offer i did.  Ryan, put me where you need me and if I need to learn a new position I will.  When Mike was the GM, he’ll tell you I was set to learn catcher when he said we were weak in that area.

This comment also shows that Shelton has no regard for team chemistry.  My teammates have my back and I theirs.   Instead of accepting the clubhouse as he finds it, he’s trying to rattle us.

I have news.  We will not be rattled by anything coming from his direction.  We’ll tolerate him while he’s here but he will never be a true Horror because he doesn’t want to be.  We know our own and Shelton ain’t it.

I don’t wish him ill, exactly, but in Mass yesterday, Father O’Rourke talked about the golden rule.  In a nutshell, treat others as you would wish to be treated.  I have done so.  I even wrote about it here.  I wish my team to respect me and so I respect my team and my teammates.  As a sign of that respect, I will do what it takes, however unpleasant. Shelton just runs his mouth.

How much are you willing to be he’s going to claim he never said that and was “misquoted”?  ”That’s not what I meant…”   Suuure.

As for me, I’m not creating problems; I’m simply pointing them out.  I’m not some mealy-mouthed Zeeq Rios who will gloss over stuff like this by using weasel-words.

Shelton’s comment was intended to be provocative.   Well, it’s like this.  It used to be Jorge Fhtagn.  Now it’s Jorge acting.  And my first act is to point out how Shelton couldn’t have made a worse impression with Horror players.

We have Shelton back. I *know* Shelton doesn’t like me.  He wants my job.  Makes me want to go chop up some onions.

Shelton was here before as a DH.  And then he wanted my job.  He was put on the block.  Now he’s back, and I bet dollars to donuts that he wants my job.

I basically have two choices.  Be an ass and refuse to play any other position.  Or move for him.  If I do the first, I may be put on the block.  And even though I thought I was willing to leave this team, the truth is, it would hurt.  More than playing second base.

I love this team.  I understand the reason for the trade was so that we would have enough money to pay Orochi more than the league minimum.  While I’m not happy with the trade, I understand it and am willing to work with the team to get the most out of those of us who wear the Horror green.

I’m a shortstop.  It’s my natural position.  Although I only have one gold glove, I am very good at fielding the position.  I breath shortstop.  It is a part of my identity.

Second base is like a mirror for shortstop.  Things happen differently, which is why I would need to do some learning to get as good at second as i am at shortstop.  But I am willing to do whatever it takes to help this team.

I have *always* been welling to do whatever.  Except for my egregious lapse last fall when I thought that the team didn’t appreciate my intensity or love.   I *am* appreciated.  By players and management.  I should never have declined my option, but it happened and I can’t take it back.

What I can do is patrol the infield at second base instead of at shortstop.

I have not spoken to anyone in management but a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do to help his team win.  If it will help us bring Orochi back, then I’m all over it.  I haven’t talked to anyone in the front office, like I said.  But the analysts all say the trade was about the money.   I don’t know the details but Toru deserves more than minimum wage for his contributions to the team.

And brining him back is important.  I will do anything to facilitate that.   Even play second base to Shelton.

It has been said by everyone who says these kinds of things  that I strike out way  too often.  And if you look at my statistical numbers from last season, you’ll see that I struck out *over two hundred times* in only six hundred or so at-bats.  In those same at-bats, I only managed a hundred and fifty or so hits. There are plenty of word for this level of performance.  Most of them are censorable.

I will do better in 2030.  We’re not even going to start spring training for another several weeks but I’ve been doing what I can on my own to work on this.  Watching video primarily. And doing the simulator games.  This is where you click on where you think the pitch will be when it gets to where your bat is.  It looks like a video game but is actually work.

Come spirng training, I’m going in early to work with pitchers. I’m not sure yet what the drills will be like, but Ryan, our new GM, brought in new coaches acrosss the board and they are specifically going to work with me on my strikeout issues.  There is talk of fining me for the second and higher strikeouts in a game (basically the theory is everyone strikes out sometimes so I get one “free” and then pay a fine for any subsequent strikeouts).  So far it’s just talk but I’m willing to do what it takes.

So, I have a goal this season.  To help my team by striking out less often.  And to get more hits.  Every at-bat is an opportunity to get a hit and I need to convert more of these opportunites.  I’ll never be an Anthony Rizzo, but I can be a better me.  And, in the process, a better teammate.

Why am I doing this?  So that you, the public, the fans, know that I have genuine remorse for my actions.  That I am honestly sorry I acted in such an immature way.  That I recognize my acting on my option hurt my team–the team I love and have said so publicly.

What I did was in the public eye so it only seems right to me that I make my amends the same way.  I want to be able to look my teammates, coaches, and fans in the eye.  I want the air to be clear and I want to be able to put this behind me and move forward and  focus on baseball.

So here goes.  I screwed up.  Bad.  I was thinking of myself and my pride and not of my team and teammates.  I resolve to do better by the team that nurtured my baseball skills and helped me become a starting shortstop for the world champions. I cannot take it back, though if it were possible I would.  Instead, I did the next best thing–came back under the same terms I had before.

I feel the need to extend an apology to those general managers who expressed interest in having me on their teams.  And to my agent, Annie, who had to deal with them when it was announced that i would be returning to the Horror.

I also apologize to my family.  My parents raised me better. I know that I disappointed them.

I especially want to apologize to Terrance Michaels.  TM, is a spectacular player. My actions gave the impression that I thought i was better than he was.  I am not “all that”.   I am solid; he is solid.  We both work to make the Horror a solid team.  And I really didn’t mean to step on his toes or to give the impression that he was undeserving of his All-Star status.   This was never about TM–it was about me–despite what the media said.   And because of my actions there was negative attention focused on TM.  I’m sorry for that, too.

I don’t expect forgiveness from anyone.  I ask for it with open heart and hope that you, the people I have wronged, will find in your hearts.

This is reflected in the uniforms players wear.  On the front is the team symbol or name.  The cliché is that it is “worn over the heart” because the team supersedes the individual.  And on the back, the player’s name and number are displayed where the player cannot focus on it but everyone else can identify who is responsible for the action on the field of play.

This synergy of team and personal accomplishment is also reflected in the awards given to the team that wins the World Series and the players on that team.  There is a team trophy, which belongs to the team and which is typically put on public display.  And there are rings which go to the individuals who participated in the victorious outcome.

The Horror have a trophy.  It’s so big it takes 25 players to earn it.  Yet it’s portable enough that an individual player can raise it over his head.  It will be on display at Legends Field.

There was also a special trophy for Junior.   He was the undisputed Most Valuable Player of the series.  He was at the center of three of our four wins.  Individual actions can precipitate outcomes and that’s why he gets the award.

I don’t have a ring, but I will.  We have all been sized for them and we’ll get them in a ceremony before our second home game.  I guess that’s because of all the hoo-rah surrounding Opening Day.  It will sort of spread out the celebration.

The trophy and the ring.  You can’t have one without also having the other.  It doesn’t matter how good of a player you are if your team doesn’t work together to play well and win games.  But the whole is more than the sum of the parts.   In a sense, each ring has a little trophy in it and the trophy is the sum of all rings.

I am actually more proud of my team than I am of myself. The trophy, to me, is greater than my ring.

And, while there are a few who were distant or cold, most of them responded that they were glad I was getting over myself and wanting to be a part of the Horror again.  And so I told Ryan to talk to my agent and we would fix the covenant I broke.

And he did, too.   I have a home here as long as I wish to remain.  And I really do wish to remain.

This was before Game 5.  We agreed not to announce it till after the series was decided because the Horror didn’t need any distractions.  I was surprised when he announced it in the clubhouse while we were spraying champagne but now the world knows.   Jorge Vincenzio, Horror for Life!

So what does it feel like to be a champion after struggling for so many years?

I actually don’t feel anything. I’m still getting used to the idea that the struggle to reach the top is over.  And that we face a new and different kind of struggle.  For the next season, we will be the ones to knock off and knock down.  We will be the focus of team meetings in other clubhouses.  Instead of us talking about them–they’ll be talking about us.  We will be in the spotlight.

We did it as a team.  But, I have to take a bit here to thank Mike and Ryan for all the effort they put into this team.  Mike promised me we’d win a trophy.  Actually, he promised me a ring.  But the trophy is what counts.   It’s the name on the front that matters.  Mike delivered on his promise.  He molded this team into champions.   But he had help from Ryan, who took the reigns and guided us through the post-season.

Honestly, the prospect is sobering.  Tonight we celebrated and there will be parades and visits with important people because suddenly, *we* are important people, too.  But after all of that, we have a lot of work to do if we’re going to maintain our position as the top dog.  I think we can do it.

Horror in 2030!

But sometimes life happens and friends drift apart.  It starts out slow and then, when you look, there’s a space in your life.  One of my spaces was filled last night.  I got a call from Clete.

Clete’s mother has a medical issue and he gave up ball to help his father care for her.  It was either that or bring strangers into the house.  Or put her in a “home”.  I used to call him and text him and stuff but over time, we sort of just went our own ways.

Clete told me I’m an idiot.  He asked me where my head was at.  Then he told me it was up my rear. He said I wasn’t being a team player for the first time that he could remember.  And asked me what was really wrong.  I told him what I told everybody else.  He wouldn’t accept that.  So I told him this. I am the first one at practice and the last one to leave the clubhouse.  Not because I’m making a statement but because it’s who I’ve always been.  Clete said he knew that.  Then I said it.  It’s not fair! And Clete pointed out that that was my real problem.  I was expecting it to be fair.  I had always been rewarded with progress for working hard and this seemed like a smack-down that I didn’t deserve.

The problem is, I didn’t tell anyone.  I kept to myself and let it eat away my heart.  I started resenting my teammates for being the same players I had been proud of before.  And before you know it, I wanted to put some distance between myself and them.  I wanted out.

So Clete asked me, “Do you want out now?” And I said that I don’t know.  I would like to stay if I didn’t mess it up too badly.  These are my second family.  I grew up a Horror and I don’t think I want to be one of those “veteran rookies” who is new to a club but not new to baseball.  But I needed to talk to my teammates and to Ryan, the new manager.

So I’m going to the ballpark three tons lighter tonight.  I know what I want now.  What I don’t know is if I can have it.