A Case of Mistaken Identity?

A couple of days ago, I received a phone call from a man I could hardly understand. I asked that he email his request so I could study it. Here is what I received:

Dear Rev.Bryant ,

Nice to speak to you this morning .
I am working for a Japanese Television called " TV Asahi " .
My name is Hideyuki MIyauchi .
TV Asahi has a weekly informational program called " Shiru Shiru MIshiru "( literally translated " To see is to know ") .

Their next subject is " What is the better ball to fly further by a baseball bat ? "
This is a kind of scientific research .
They like to invite you to Japan to hit various balls at s studio if you can .

They offer the cost of staying in Japan : trip , meeting , shooting , trip back .
The date they will shoot up to you soon as possible .

About your guarantee or donation to your church is up to you .
Please let us know .

I am sorry to bother you by a strange offer .
We have still a lot of your fans in Japan .

If you are willing to accept this offer , please let me know soon as possible .

Thank you so much for your time .

Best ,

HIdeyuki MIyauchi

Upon reading the missive, I realized that this executive thought he was speaking to the former Major League and Japanese League home run hitting star, not some old hotcornerhasbeen. I replied that I would be happy to accept his offer, but I thought he would be disappointed to discover he had found the wrong Ralph Bryant.

A Forgetable Memorial Day!

I really don't like complainers, especially when it is me complaining. But there was lots to complain about or visit to Minute Maid Park this afternoon. First, the advertised holiday version of the Astros caps that were to be given away as promos were not provided. Not even the little American flags that we have received at games on Memorial Day were handed out this year. Can you say, "cost-cutting?"

Then when we got to the kids play area, that the Astros promote in an effort to attract families to the games, most of the activities were not open. We were told that they did not have enough staff to man all them. We had heard that the last three times we had taken to boys to a game, but those were on week nights/school nights. Today was a holiday and there should have been max staff on the job. More budget trimming?

Then the home plate umpire, Bill Hohn, decided he was the center of attention. He had, from our seats right behind the plate, squeezed the strike zone on Astros' pitcher Roy Oswalt. In the third inning Oswalt threw what both he and I thought was strike three to Adam Dunn. Hohn called it a ball, and on the next pitch, Dunn hit a bases loaded double, driving in three runs.

The next batter, Josh Willingham, had a 1-2 count. The next pitch was a fantastic pitch--I saw the replay when I got home and was right about my original opinion--but Hohn called it ball 2. Oswalt turned toward right field and raised his head and shouted. I don't know what word he said, but he was not shouting at the umpire, just expressing frustration.

But Hohn came out from behind the plate and walked toward the mound. He called Roy to attention, and Roy responded by pointing to the umpire. Hohn promptly ejected Oswalt. From there the pitching unraveled and the game got really ugly. The final score was 14-4. Most of the fans had left the building before the last out.

To add to the insanity, twice during the game, idiotic fans jumped the rails and ran across the diamond. Each time security captured the fan and led them away, one in hand cuffs. They will each pay a thousand dollar fine and spend the night in jail. Some fans find the trespassers amusing, but I am not one of those. I enjoy a baseball game, not jerks, whether they are behind the plate or trespassing on the field.

A thoroughly forgettable Memorial Day!

Remembering Robin Roberts

May 31, 1957, was a magical night for a young baseball fan from South Texas. My family was visiting my mother's family in Bordentown, New Jersey for a couple of weeks. My dad and my uncle took me to Connie Mack Stadium in Philadelphia to see my first Major League game in person.

The Phillies' pitcher that night was the awesome right-hander Robin Roberts. He was in the midst of 6 consecutive seasons of 20 wins. And he was facing the Brooklyn Dodger with their awesome line-up, Gilliam, Cimoli, Snider, Furillo, Hodges, Campanella, Neal, Zimmer, and the Don Drysdale as the opposing pitcher.

The game lived up to my imagination. There was excellent pitching and defense. There was a majestic by the great Dodger catcher, Roy Campanella, off the top of the stadium. But Roberts only gave up three hits, pitched a complete game and got the win. For years after that magical night I would want to be a second baseman like Junior Gilliam. And, in my mind, I would pitch, copying Robin Roberts and throwing the perfect pitch in the pressure situation.

Robin Roberts passed away yesterday. But the memory of his mastery will live as long as I do!

Johnny Neun Quote!

I just read a quote by a man who was in his late eighties and still swinging his fungo in spring training at the time. Johnny Neun had played in the 1920's for Ty Cobb and managed the Yankees and Reds. Young players today would do well to listen.

"It is important to remember how careful you have to be about the way you live your life. It's to your advantage not to do too many things off the field that interfere with your life on the field. You turn on the TV and you hear that some committee or other is investigating things out of someone's past and lives get ruined. When you play this game, you're in the public eye. I once heard a great poet say that if you're going to go public with your life, your life belongs to the public. Be careful with our life. In the long run the thing that's going to be the most precious to you, the thing you're going to treasure all your life, is your peace of mind."

Dig in and make sure you get the full benefit of your natural ability. Only a few of you are going to make the Big Club. But for the others, you ought to be able to leave saying. 'I gave it my best.' Don't worry about tomorrow. Don't worry about things you have no control over. Do it this way and someone may walk up to you and say, 'you're the one.'"

Opening Day At Minute Maid '10!!!

Opening Day has been a huge part of life for my wife and I. We have celebrated 43 anniversaries, 42 of them at Opening Day for the Astros. The only time we missed was when we celebrated our 35th in New York City. We just returned from the 2010 edition.

Roy Oswalt started for the 'Stros against Tim Lincecum of the San Francisco Giants, the reigning back to back Cy Young winner. Oswalt pitched creditably, but not well enough to avoid the loss. He gave up three runs in his six innings of work, while Lincecum did not allow a run in his seven innings of work.

Houston did not hit the ball hard very often tonight. Carlos Lee had a line drive off the wall in left, but the next well struck ball was in the 9th inning when J. R. Towles had a double to left center field to drive in the second run of the evening for Houston.

There were not too many bright spots for the over 43,000 in attendance. I wonder how many fans will be in the stands tomorrow.

Farewell, Mike Cuellar

When I was reading the sports section of the paper this morning I was saddened to read of the passing of Mike Cuellar. He died of stomach cancer at the age of 72. Seeing his name again reminded me of what a great pitcher Cuellar was, and that he was part of the worst trade in the history of the Astros.

Cuellar came to the Astros in 1965, as the team was moving into the Astrodome and became know as the Astros, after their first three seasons as the Colt .45’s. Mike was a left handed pitcher with a truly wicked screwball. I loved to sit in the bleachers in center field next to the tunnel when he pitched, just to watch the ball dance! Cuellar was a 16 game winner for one of the most woeful teams in the league, in those days after the MLB expansion that brought them into the National League.

I the winter of 1968 the Astros traded Mike Cuellar to the Baltimore Orioles for a first baseman named Curt Blefry. I was outraged at the time. And time only confirmed that the trade was worse than any in team history, worse that Joe Morgan going to the Reds, worse than Kenny Lofton for Eddie Taubensee, the absolute worst! By 1970 Blefry proved to be so worthless that he was traded for a washed up Joe Pepitone!

Cuellar went on to help take the Orioles to three World Series appearances and to be a part of a staff that had four 20 game winners in one season. If Mike had been with the Orioles his whole career he would be in the Hall of Fame.

Farewell, Mike Cuellar.

Surprise for Phil!!!!!!!!!!

One day while preparing to close our donut shop for the day, my oldest daughter told me she wanted to send a thank you to Jimmy Wynn for the autographed baseball he had given her. She was only four years old and we wanted to nurture in her a spirit of gratitude, so I told her I would write down what she wanted to say, and we would mail it on the way home. I don’t remember the exact words of the note, but she thanked him for the ball and for calling her beautiful. She told him if he ever came to our little town he should come to our shop and she would give him a free donut.

We did not know the actual address, so we just sent the note to Jimmy Wynn, Astrodome, Houston, Texas. I had my doubts it would ever reach the Astros’ star, but I did not tell my little girl. We dropped it in the mailbox on the way home that night.


A few weeks later we went to another game at the Dome. As was usual for us, after the game we went to the loading docks gate, which is where the home team players exited the building. We were waiting at the base of a long ramp, maybe fifteen or twenty yards from those crowding around the door. I saw a boy from the summer league team I coached among the gathering; he was working hard for autographs. He greeted us and asked what we were doing so far back from the action. I told him we were waiting for Jimmy Wynn, so my girl could say hello to her friend. Phil had his doubts that Jimmy Wynn was her friend, and he went back to the door to obtain more signatures.


A little while later Jimmy came through the door. He had a box under one arm and a couple of bats in his other hand. He was walking fast and obviously was not interested in signing a bunch of autographs that night. Phil was trailing him all the way down the ramp, trying to get him to stop, without any luck. As he approached, my daughter called out, “hi Jimmy.”


Wynn walked directly to where I was holding my little one, switching the bats to his other hand so he had an arm free. He said, “Good Evening, Stacey, I received your card. Thank you very much.” He took her from me, kissed her on the lips and proceeded to visit with her about what kind of donut he should get if he came to the shop.

Phil’s jaw bounced off the sidewalk!

Bittersweet Day at the Ball Park!

Every trip to the ball park makes the day a good one. A couple of weeks ago my family attended the Thursday night game at Minute Maid Park in Houston, despite the fact that Hurricane Ike would be slamming into our area.

Last night we went again to see the Astros, our first time since the storm. It was a fun game, with the Astros winning over the Atlanta Braves on a home run in the bottom of the ninth by Darin Erstad. I even caught a ball off the bat of Chipper Jones during batting practice.

But once every season there is a bittersweet day at the ball park. It is on the day that you know it will be next April before you will get to go to a ball game again. That was how it was last night. By the time I got to the car, the Brewers had finished their game with a win, thus eliminating Houston from the post season(I knew that the Cubs, who had already clinched the division title, would lose a game against since the loss would make it unnecessary to come to Houston on Monday for a make-up game).

I will watch the playoffs and the World Series, but I won't get to see a game in person again till spring! Heavy sigh!

Subscribe to Family Fun & Faith

A Day At Dad's House!

Dad called early this week to let me know that he had just finished digging the ‘taters in his back yard garden. He harvested 167 pounds of new potatoes. I had to get down to his place, about sixty miles away, before all my siblings and dad’s neighbors had taken them all. So we went today.

Dad loves to dig in the dirt and his yard is a showplace almost all year round. He still has poinsettias as tall as the eaves of his house, which have been blooming since November. The amaryllis, the Confederate roses, the larkspur, the hidden ginger lilies, the esperanza and the gladiolas all are in bloom. But the real jaw dropping beauty is in his day lilies. Dad has over 300 different varieties of day lily. He colors are amazing. People in the community often stop to take pictures. My secretary goes through the town where Dad lives when she is on the way to visit her mother. She loves to take a three block detour to see what is going on in Dad’s garden.

To add to the joy of the day, my grandsons took their ball gloves so they could play while we visited. As we loaded up, I threw in a couple of gloves as well. As I suspected, the boys asked Dad if he would play catch with them. He said he did not have a glove anymore. I told him I had a couple in the car, if he was up to playing. We went out and threw the ball around for a half an hour. Before long Dad was telling the guys how to turn their gloves and to use two hands, and to get right in front of the ball. It sure brought back memories of the thousands of days he said those things to me when I was the age my grandsons are now!

Subscribe to Family Fun & Faith

Old Stories!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Last night I had a new and pleasant experience when attended the first ever public reading of a play at a repertory theater in Houston. The reason I went was a play written by Larry Dierker.


I have been following Dierker's career since he broke into the major leagues with the Astros on who it is 18th birthday, back in 1965. He was a top quality pitcher for many years. Following his retirement from the game he went to the broadcast booth and became a color analyst. And in a very unusual move, he was hired to be the manager of the Astros though he had no managerial experience at all. The team flourished under his leadership and reached the playoffs five of his seven years he served as the manager. Larry was a writer for the local paper when he was a broadcaster and has written a couple of books since his managerial days have finished.

But to the great surprise of many of us Dierker has written the lyrics and the play called Old Stories. He has worked with composer Paul English, who wrote the music for the play.

The play is about a mythical team in the National League called the Washington Capitols. The setting is the 1970 season, he character is Arthur "King" Cole. Cole is a super star, but approaching the end of his career. The drama around the changes this makes in his professional and personal life is the crux of the play.

The manager of the Capitols is a former player, who was on a pennant winning team 21 years earlier. Three of his old buddies and former teammates like to tell Old Stories and remember the good old days.

The play really appealed to me, perhaps because of where I am in life. I like to tell old stories and keep alive the things that matter to me and shaped me. As the play unfolds, each of the old guys gets to share an old story with a current player and give him some advice.

The joy of the play is that the old stories gain new life in the telling to the next generation and in seeing that they make a difference to the ones following in their footsteps.

There are 13 original numbers, with a wide variety of styles of music incorporated. Larry was like a proud poppa when the show was over. I was able to congratulate him and get him to autograph my single sheet playbill.

I hope Old Stories gets backing to become a full blown stage presentation, but I know for sure that I am going to continue to tell old stories!

Subscribe to Family Fun & Faith