Counterpoint, "Re: The Balls"

by Alex Shore

Thanks for the touching article Michael, i would like to take this time to point out several FLAWS throughout your "touching piece".

Flaw 1:
After the playoff games in which you defeated us, i shook every player on your teams hand and congratulated them. Further more, As far as Kirk's " i wanna whoop your ass, cant handle my emotions" attitude, i apparently caught him on a bad day and he is very ...temperamental. This goes on the record as saying he is a loose cannon and can be mad at anyone at any given time. Lastly, did i mention why he was mad? Well, it was because i was talking fun trash with my teammates. TRASH TALK IS A PART OF BASEBALL! Hell, if the pro's went out on the diamond and complained about the trash talking they heard, they would want you to write them an article. If this league cant handle trash talk, we just change the name to the WWSEM (Similar to WNBA).

Flaw 2:
I am nothing of what you made me out to be in that article. Do you really think Joe Seto of all people would want some "arrogant" "Smarmy" and "immature" player to play for his team? i didn't think so. Not only is this article so poorly written, content wise and grammatically, it would take someone with little to none actual knowledge of the sport to write. You basically just listed two players that you don't like, with your own BS reasons for not liking them, and seized you opportunity to slander them by this article. This not only tears down the integrity of the league but also your integrity as a person. If you want to complain to someone get a therapist, not a blog.

Flaw 3:
I hope your other four articles aren't as sad and pathetic as this one. People want entertainment in an article, not the kind that you would hear at a meeting with an anger management adviser. Seriously, I hope you have the dignity to redeem yourself with at least one of these articles. This flaw touches upon my non-affability. How was I invited to London, voted to an all star team, and voted as a head figure of this league by the national website, if i was all of the interesting characteristics that you make me out to be. This shows how biased you really are and how false the information in this article really is.

With all this being said,

This article may be the worst piece of literature to cross my eyes. As far as this goes, Mike, take all your negative energy back to your nitty gritty softball diamonds.

Best Regards,
Alex Shore

The Balls: 1st Inning

[Mike Constanti takes center stage today debuting his column that is sure to get a reaction and generate some buzz around WSEM this offseason. Here is Mike with The Balls.]

INTRO:

What's up to all the Wiffle ball freaks out there? Mike Constanti here to give you all not only something to read about while taking a ..., but a trip to the underbelly of what is known as the WSEM. I'm gonna put out 5 articles over the offseason on what has been pissing me off, who deserves a reality check, and my annual run down of the bottom 5 teams and why they sucked! Kind of like Ken Burns baseball. Get it? 5 innings, 5 articles. If you get through the entire article pissed off, there will be a bonus article which I'll mention in the end. So, without further ado let's get it on!


Inning 1: Why do players believe their shit smells good?
What's that smell? It's everywhere. All teams got one. I sometimes get caught up in it. It's that odor that can make or break your game. It's that player who believes he's the shit. It smells like dandelions. No one can touch them. Oh, lord, "I am the shit" syndrome. To tell you the truth, nothing pisses me off more than when someone grandstands in front of the opposition (to the dismay of teammates), that he is gods gift to wiffleball, and everyone sucks and can eat a big fat one. Even though the player talking shit isn't that good, his team is getting their asses handed to them, or is in complete denial that you are good and he is just having an off day. In my opinion, I always believe you earn your stripes, get the respect you deserve by playing hard and let the stats speak for themselves. People just cannot come in and declare themselves to be the next Joey DeLano. The best players do not have to be outspoken. It takes a team to win in Wiffleball. As much of a beating the Ass Kickers took, I enjoyed playing with Bully, my brother, and Kirk. We didn't show off or talk shit. We know who we are and we didn't brag about it. I feel that the league is full of guys who need a quick reality check. I'm gonna give it to them. Here are my top three Dandelions of the sport that get on my damn nerves sometimes or all the time:

3.) Chris Lewis - It hurts me to put him on this list, because he is such a great guy. A lot of respect for him. The reason for Chris being here is that he has a mouth to go with that so called "intimidating" riser (not !). Great! He pitched in almost every game for Belgian last season. The part that irks me is that he brags about the amount of K'S he recorded and considers himself to be one of the elite pitchers of our game. Here is the reality check: granted I feel he is a top 10 pitcher. More towards number 10, though. He needs a better secondary pitch to make his riser more effective. It is mostly a go to pitch and everyone anticipates it. Three of my four homers came off that pitch. He may be the number-two man in the rotation for the Ducks, but I think he is the third best pitcher behind Pearson and Dylan Braden.

2.) Me - I am writing this article. Enough said.

1.) Alex Shore - This doesn't hurt me at all. In fact, he is the poster child for being full of shit. Nothing proves that to me more than the way his field looks, the smarmy arrogance, and lack of sportsmanship. I consider him the Rick Flair of our sport. He can wow and dazzle you with his speed and play on the field, but then he comes up to you and gives you a low blow from behind. His character shows when his team doesn't even want to play ball for him. That is sad. Talking shit ain't good when your team is getting their butts kicked. Example: Chris Kirk wanting to tear Alex and the Warriors' heads off after a poor sport attitude from him and his team after they got eliminated by the Ass Kickers in the playoffs. The worst part of all this is that Alex is an extremely talented player. He doesn't need a 65' right field wall or the shit talking. Top 5 player in the league. I don't know if it's immaturity or what. Hate to see what little respect he has go away because of his arrogance. I would take him on my team in a heart beat. That sucks. I hope that next season with the Donkeys he can straighten up and make them a huge contender for the title. He is in good hands with Joe Seto, but is it enough?

To end this topic, I feel that people should understand we play a game that we play growing up in the backyards, sandlots, or even the street you live on. There is no need for being full of shit and ruining this wonderful experience we have with the WSEM. It is for fun. Right?


Teams that sucked last season:
The Jason Mattseals

Great things happen to great people. I have a hard time believing that, because what Jason Matt went through last year is bullshit! His team struggled out the gate and it took them nearly two months to get in the win column. A lot of close games. The offense, aside from Jeff Biegas, was putrid to put it nicely. I think two or three guys were in the bottom five in offensive stats. Jason Hewlett got better as the season went on, but the team lacked a number-two starter. It is sad to see a team of good guys come out and make every game, just to get their butts kicked. They did make believers out of some people when they almost knocked out the champs, Git r' Done, in the playoffs. These guys have improved. They need a couple hitters and another pitcher to get there. Until then, it is batting practice for game days when scheduled to play the Mattseals.

That is it for Inning 1. Hope you guys liked this, but I don't expect you to. If you have any anger you would like to vent out, for our bonus section for the next article, fire away at my email, facebook post on my account or the league's, or give me a call and I will come out to drive Brian's truck on your front lawn. Top three complaints will make the article with a response from yours truly. In a couple weeks will be Inning 2: The art of ... Until next time Constanti out!

Team Tuesdays: Whiteford W.A.

[Today's guest columnist is Joel Crozier: assistant captain of Whiteford W.A., creator of the WSEM Championship Trophy, an all-around do anything for wiffleball kind of guy, and possibly future WSEM front-office material.]

When Austin Bischoff first appeared on the WSEM scene, he was just a seventeen-year-old kid filling in for the Flying Squirrels late in the regular season. Players began to take notice, however, when he took the mound against the Warriors and DeLoppes, and posted two complete game shutouts. He soon became the Squirrels’ ace; in the last two weeks of the regular season and the playoffs, he allowed only one run over 46 innings while striking out 120 batters. When the newly revived Squirrels nearly upset the DeLoppes in the second round of the playoffs, Austin Bischoff became a major topic of discussion: “This guy is up there with Dennis Pearson!” “Does Whiteford even exist?” “Hey Carl, you know if they’ve got any like him left on Craigslist? Or was it Ebay where you found him?”

However, Austin was no wiffleball newbie. Like Carl Coffee, Austin was actually the founder and commissioner of his own league: the Whiteford Wiffleball Association.

The origins of wiffle activity in Whiteford trace back to Austin’s elementary school years, when he and close friend Joel Crozier experimented with various bat-and-ball games. They moved from tennis ball baseball to blooper ball to a game called smallball. Unfortunately, because they often played one-on-one, these games didn’t work well when they got older and stronger. That’s when Austin discovered the ultimate one-on-one game: wiffleball.

From the moment the two boys, now in eighth grade, watched a well-thrown pitch break three feet on its way to the strike zone, they were hooked. They researched pitching methods, built a strike zone, bought bases and a home run fence, and began forming a league. They launched a web site and recruited players from their school to join.


Whiteford's roster for Beat It: Colin, Austin, Joel, Justin, and Evan.
Unfortunately, it soon became clear many of other kids didn’t have the same love for wiffleball. The league operated sporadically over the next few years, with only three players actually competing in more than a couple of games. Organized tournaments fell flat on two occasions. Although their games were always intensely competitive, and usually featured high quality pitching, Austin and Joel wanted to find some real competition against other people who enjoyed the game as much as they did. During their search, they discovered a league known as Downriver Wiffle.

Austin contacted the commissioner, Carl Coffee, and a wiffleball relationship was born. As Downriver Wiffle evolved into WSEM, Austin tried to form a team and enter a tournament in Monroe. After the Fourth of July tournament was canceled, Austin got a chance to play organized wiffleball anyway — for the Squirrels. You already know how that turned out.

In the second round of the playoffs, Joel went with Austin to see what the league was all about. He liked what he saw. After the tournament, he and Austin had a long conversation about forming a team for the next season. The first step, of course, would be to enter a team in the end-of-season Beat It tournament.

They contacted Justin Hughes, a leading hitter on Whiteford’s varsity baseball team, and Colin Lake, a superb fielder who could also smash a wiffleball. Austin’s little brother Evan rounded out the team at five players. After Joel and Austin made jerseys, the Whiteford Wiffleball Association was no longer a league — it was a team.

In a great day of wiffleball, the WWA gave Austin the perfect present on his birthday: the Beat It championship. Joel missed most of the tournament due to a fall baseball obligation; with the new rotation rule in effect, someone needed to step up. Justin, who had never pitched in a wiffleball game before, was a pleasant surprise, shutting down the DeLoppes in a crucial playoff game and pitching most of the championship game. When he got in a jam, Austin showed his managerial prowess and faith in Joel, who took the mound, managed to escape the inning, and closed out the tournament.


Plans for WWA's field expansion for the 2012 season.
The WWA has big plans for its first WSEM season. They recently unveiled plans for their home field (name to be determined). Preseason odds released by Brandon Corbett generously list the team as a favorite. Austin, officially named the WWA Captain, and Joel, Assistant to the Captain and Head Publicist, plan to have a pool of players to draw upon throughout the season. They also want to utilize a full pitching rotation throughout the regular season (Austin, Joel, Evan, Justin, Colin, …?) for added versatility in the playoffs. Most of all, they are excited to be playing the game they love with others who are as enthusiastic about it as they are.

What to watch for:

• Bitter rivalries against the Squirrels (Austin’s a traitor!) and Thunder Ducks (think battle for the Clown Shu).
• Possibility of lighter, cooler alternate jerseys
• Closing of League Lineup site, opening of new team site
• Updates on field construction
• Promo vid!
• Video recaps/highlights of games

A New Kind of Legend

		Your Junk my Happy Zone
		by Brandon Corbett

During Saturday’s 3-2 series win by the DeLoppes over the Squirrels the members of WSEM present were met with a moment of transcendence, one which fell just short of magic. Following twenty-three shutout innings pitched by Cliff Comstock and Austin Bischoff, the stars began to align after BJ Hoppe’s two-run home run in the bottom of the first inning put the DeLoppes ahead in the deciding game of the series. One by one the dragonflies broke their flutter and set down on bat knobs, back stops, and the sporadic taller blades of grass missed by the grounds crew. The gaggle of young toads, which had hopped around the field more often that day than Austin Bischoff kicked out bases on hard slides, now stood at attention. Friends, they felt that something big was about to happen.

Carl Coffee cast his eyes over the field, squinted, took a deep breath, cocked his bat, and stepped up to the plate for the Squirrels. A missile from the right hand of Chad Hoppe followed, passing mere inches from Carl’s head. The peanut gallery shouted oohs, aahs, and one distinct hell yeah! baby! The ball came to rest on the other side of the drainage ditch twenty yards away. Carl gave no reaction.


He then waved his bat in front of his hips, and unfurled two ponderous questions in succession: “you gonna throw the ball? You scared?” Chad stood perplexed, a hundred thoughts running through his head: was Carl taunting the veteran pitcher? Was the blistering sun getting to Coffee? Is Coffee really not better when served hot? Chad shook his head, steering his concentration to not let Carl get into his head. Hoppe then eased through his steady wind up, released the ball from a three-quarters arm slot, and dropped a patented “Broken Zipper” just under the zone; it could not have missed by more than half a centimeter! Carl Coffee stood statuesque. “Oh my God! How could you take that!” Bobby Hoppe exclaimed from right field, with the sentiment echoed by members of both teams. “Take what?” Carl deadpanned. Chad’s jaw dropped on the mound. Down by two runs, Coffee really was trying to show him up out there!

Hoppe stopped playing around. He stiffened his delivery, started a hard slider up and in, which cut sharply, like a German army through France, drilling the upper-inside corner of the zone, and actually sent splinters flying. Chad just stared a cold stare from the mound; so effective it actually got cold in Death Valley for a second, until Carl came through with the quote that restored temperatures to normal: “Wow! I really shouldn’t try to play without contacts in! That pitch sounded amazing; wish I’d been able to see it!” Laughter mixed with the restored croaks from toads and wisps of dragonfly wings, and below it all you could hear the beginning murmur of a legend coming to life:

“and look who's coming up. All year long, they looked to him to light the fire. All year long, he answered the demand; until he was physically unable to see tonight with two bad eyes: the only thing, getting through Chad Hoppe. And with two out, you talk about a roll of the dice. This is it!”