OOTP Developments Forums - View Single Post - 60 Team League History and story of Tate Redinger

majormet · 09-24-2020, 11:52 PM

Tate arrived at the ballpark in East Islip where the Long Island Ducks play their home games and he thought back to how large the place seemed when he would go to games with his father only 10 plus years ago. The semi-professional stadium seemed like it's own universe and how things diminish in size as we get older.

The cletes felt alien to him after not playing ball for over 18 months and he was watching the players and started to get intimidated. The cockiness he experienced a few days ago with Al had waned and he was afraid he wouldn't even be able to reach the cutoff man on a fly. Muscle memory he kept uttering to himself as he prepared himself for this day.

Watching in the dugout he stated to question his decision. It seemed to him that the team was already set and he would be coming off the bench. This is not what he had in mind. Over to the corner of his right eye he noticed a familiar face... Matt Gimpel. Gimpel was putting on his shinguards and getting ready to take the field as a catcher.

Tate made eye contact "You are" pointing and squinting... "You are Matt Gimpel right?

"That's right, how do you know an old has been like me"

Going from memory and trying not to make Gimpel seem old, Tate mustered up "Well if memory serves me correctly you used to run winter clinics at Field of Dreams"

"S**t, that was a long time ago for Paul Gibson, how did you remember me, did I train you"

Tate giggled "well you didn't exactly train me, but I remember you helped out and worked with the catchers for sure"

"So what brings you to Ducks country" Gimpel had inquired

"Just trying to get myself ready for the upcoming draft, my agent thought this would be a great way to stay in the game"

"Draft? Who are you"

"I am Tate Redinger"

Gimpel chuckled and said "And the who F*** is Tate Redinger"

"Well I was in your camp. I played for Hofstra for four seasons and hit over .400 in college"

"College ball, hah... don't guys walk on and play for those college teams"

It was a good question and a hard pill of reality "Yes but some great players come out of college"

"Not knocking it, but you will find the roads are not paved with gold. I did 9 years in the minors and never made it out AA ball, and I only played 35 games in AA ball in 2010. I am 37 now and I made a living out of being a minor league player, but kid you ain't going to get to the majors with a resume from Hofstra. Ya gotta contend with all the guys from the DR, Venezuela, Asia and all those year round Cali and Texas kids. Minor league baseball, get used to it. This stadium is bigger than any A ball stadium you will play in"

This was not the dialogue Tate anticipated. This was supposed to be easier.

"Well good luck Travis"

"Um Tate"

"Whatever" said Gimpel as he got behind the plate

The Ducks were managed by a 70 year old crochety type named Dan Rossi. Rossi had a big potbelly and clearly was one of those wannabe baseball types that never manifested.

"Redinger" Rossi said

"yes Coach.... what do you want me to do"

"Let's see what you have at the plate, you will face Dean Mercante first"

Tate looked across the field and there was the janitor that he was mocking only a few days ago. Karma is a b... or something like that

Mercante was shaking the resin bag as Tate got into the plate. First pitch was a heater and Tate watched it go by, no balls and strikes just being evaluated without that pressure.

Tate being a left handed batter should have the edge on the righty Mercante. Next pitch was a curveball and it was about 5 feet off the plate. Tate then looked again and waiting on the next pitch

Mercante hung a curveball and Tate made contact he thought he hit the ball out of the yard but it just landed in front of the warning track. Next Pitch he hit deep again and it was also near the right field warning track.

After about 40 pitches, Tate made contact on about 25 of the pitches, about 12 were out of the strike zone and there were 3 swings and missed. It bothered Tate that he could not launch anything into the cheap seats.

About 30 minutes had passed and Tate was shagging flies and having a catch with some player he never had recognized and then Gimpel approached him.

"Hey Tate, that's the name right, good hitting there, you were on every pitch. Look I don't want to burst your bubble, but enthusiasm is good. Just have to face the hard facts, I know there are 200 teams now so you can get to the show these days, but still you have to be even tempered, good work today"

"Thanks Man" said Tate as he headed for the runway

On the way home in the car. Tate felt like a huge monkey was off his back. He dusted the rust off and he was not embarrassing himself out there today. It wasn't like he was facing Clayton Kershaw out there but still the mechanics were there as if they never left.

As he took the lonely road back to Montauk, he thought about his parents who had retired to West Palm Beach and would not see him play, his ex-girlfriend Tatianna who was working in Los Angeles trying to land acting gigs... and he just realized that Al and Brandon are all he had to support him on this surge to the majors.... He realized that the time was now to live.

09-24-2020, 11:52 PM	#7
majormet Hall Of Famer Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Long Island, NY Posts: 2,536	Meet the Ducks Tate arrived at the ballpark in East Islip where the Long Island Ducks play their home games and he thought back to how large the place seemed when he would go to games with his father only 10 plus years ago. The semi-professional stadium seemed like it's own universe and how things diminish in size as we get older. The cletes felt alien to him after not playing ball for over 18 months and he was watching the players and started to get intimidated. The cockiness he experienced a few days ago with Al had waned and he was afraid he wouldn't even be able to reach the cutoff man on a fly. Muscle memory he kept uttering to himself as he prepared himself for this day. Watching in the dugout he stated to question his decision. It seemed to him that the team was already set and he would be coming off the bench. This is not what he had in mind. Over to the corner of his right eye he noticed a familiar face... Matt Gimpel. Gimpel was putting on his shinguards and getting ready to take the field as a catcher. Tate made eye contact "You are" pointing and squinting... "You are Matt Gimpel right? "That's right, how do you know an old has been like me" Going from memory and trying not to make Gimpel seem old, Tate mustered up "Well if memory serves me correctly you used to run winter clinics at Field of Dreams" "St, that was a long time ago for Paul Gibson, how did you remember me, did I train you" Tate giggled "well you didn't exactly train me, but I remember you helped out and worked with the catchers for sure" "So what brings you to Ducks country" Gimpel had inquired "Just trying to get myself ready for the upcoming draft, my agent thought this would be a great way to stay in the game" "Draft? Who are you" "I am Tate Redinger" Gimpel chuckled and said "And the who F* is Tate Redinger" "Well I was in your camp. I played for Hofstra for four seasons and hit over .400 in college" "College ball, hah... don't guys walk on and play for those college teams" It was a good question and a hard pill of reality "Yes but some great players come out of college" "Not knocking it, but you will find the roads are not paved with gold. I did 9 years in the minors and never made it out AA ball, and I only played 35 games in AA ball in 2010. I am 37 now and I made a living out of being a minor league player, but kid you ain't going to get to the majors with a resume from Hofstra. Ya gotta contend with all the guys from the DR, Venezuela, Asia and all those year round Cali and Texas kids. Minor league baseball, get used to it. This stadium is bigger than any A ball stadium you will play in" This was not the dialogue Tate anticipated. This was supposed to be easier. "Well good luck Travis" "Um Tate" "Whatever" said Gimpel as he got behind the plate The Ducks were managed by a 70 year old crochety type named Dan Rossi. Rossi had a big potbelly and clearly was one of those wannabe baseball types that never manifested. "Redinger" Rossi said "yes Coach.... what do you want me to do" "Let's see what you have at the plate, you will face Dean Mercante first" Tate looked across the field and there was the janitor that he was mocking only a few days ago. Karma is a b... or something like that Mercante was shaking the resin bag as Tate got into the plate. First pitch was a heater and Tate watched it go by, no balls and strikes just being evaluated without that pressure. Tate being a left handed batter should have the edge on the righty Mercante. Next pitch was a curveball and it was about 5 feet off the plate. Tate then looked again and waiting on the next pitch Mercante hung a curveball and Tate made contact he thought he hit the ball out of the yard but it just landed in front of the warning track. Next Pitch he hit deep again and it was also near the right field warning track. After about 40 pitches, Tate made contact on about 25 of the pitches, about 12 were out of the strike zone and there were 3 swings and missed. It bothered Tate that he could not launch anything into the cheap seats. About 30 minutes had passed and Tate was shagging flies and having a catch with some player he never had recognized and then Gimpel approached him. "Hey Tate, that's the name right, good hitting there, you were on every pitch. Look I don't want to burst your bubble, but enthusiasm is good. Just have to face the hard facts, I know there are 200 teams now so you can get to the show these days, but still you have to be even tempered, good work today" "Thanks Man" said Tate as he headed for the runway On the way home in the car. Tate felt like a huge monkey was off his back. He dusted the rust off and he was not embarrassing himself out there today. It wasn't like he was facing Clayton Kershaw out there but still the mechanics were there as if they never left. As he took the lonely road back to Montauk, he thought about his parents who had retired to West Palm Beach and would not see him play, his ex-girlfriend Tatianna who was working in Los Angeles trying to land acting gigs... and he just realized that Al and Brandon are all he had to support him on this surge to the majors.... He realized that the time was now to live.