Putting a bully in his place

The baseball came out of the pitcher’s hand like a rocket. A blur of white looked like it was headed straight toward my helmet, but then curved down and away at the last minute. I swung forcefully, but I was comically late.

The pitcher, a teammate of mine named Jay (name changed), broke out into a laugh. He pointed and yelled out my name and said that if I was any later on the pitch I would’ve been in a different time zone. It was only practice, but I walked back to the bench mad at myself. Of course, Jay kept at it, continuing to mock and ridicule me. I felt like a carcass along the side of the road being picked and poked by a huge vulture.

Picking on the little guy

Jay was easily the best player on the team and our star pitcher. He was stocky, but lightening fast and quicker and stronger than anyone else on the team. We were a bunch of 12 and 13-years-old, while he was a muscular man-child full of his own strength and bravado. He was a bully, who liked to tease and make fun of everyone else around him. Most guys on the team gave him a wide berth. Even our coach seemed to steer clear of Jay’s antics.

Unfortunately, Jay had his crosshairs set on me. He kept zipping me with one liners, making fun of my slight stature, batting stance, and lack of success. One or two of his friends would laugh and egg him on. Finally, at one point, he joked that I was the opposite of Kansas City Royals Third Basemen George Brett, who was trying to finish the season with a batting above .400. Jay claimed that if Brett was successful in his bid, he would become the first professional player to end a Major League Baseball season with a batting average that high. (For the record, Brett missed the mark, finishing the 1980 with a .390 batting average.)

While Brett was having enormous success and was a favorite player of mine, I knew the history. I knew that it was rare for modern day players to hit .400 for the season, but used to be a much more common feat. It didn’t happen every year, but had happened in the past. I’m not sure what made me do it, but I saw Jay’s boasting and bragging and general lack of baseball knowledge as my chance to save face.

Um, let’s check on that

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and then spoke up: “Are you sure about that Jay? I betcha I can find ten other players who have hit .400 or better.” I repeated my claim again, standing my ground, but also not giving into him.

I think I surprised Jay more than anything. Most guys on the team just took their bullying from him without comment. He didn’t like to be upstaged and he certainly wasn’t going to go down without a fight. “A .400 batting average, please, give me a break. You’re full of b.s. Brian. How can you say that? Do you even follow baseball?”

I didn’t have a blazing fastball or even a sweet swing, but I still felt confident in the facts. I followed the sport closely and had read countless books about baseball. I knew my stuff, I just needed to do my homework to prove it. Fortunately for me, we were nearing the end of practice and I wouldn’t have to put up with anymore of Jay’s teasing.

Stand up and be noticed

Today, all you would have to do to answer the .400 batting average question would be to pull up Google on your smartphone. Back in the day, though, it was much tougher. However, I was on a mission. Later that evening, I ran into the house and searched the encyclopedia. When that didn’t give me everything I needed, I asked my mom to take to me to the library.

I came home with a list of names. I had written down more than 15 players, including Ted Williams, who hit .406 with the Boston Red Sox in 1941; Rogers Hornsby of the St. Louis Cardinals and Ty Cobb with the Detroit Tigers who each batted .400 three times in their career, and other players from the late 1800s to the 1940s. In total, 36 players have reached the .400 mark in MLB history and seven have done so more than once, according to the Baseball Hall of Fame. When the you factor in African American stars like Josh Gibson, Buck Leonard, and Bill Hoskins, who didn’t have a chance to play in MLB, the number of hitters who averaged .400 for a season jumps even higher.

I couldn’t wait for practice the next day. It wasn’t what Jay was expecting, but my facts were solid and spoke for themself.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

As soon as I saw Jay in the dugout, I pulled out my research with all the names, final averages, and years and handed it to him. He took a look at my list, laughed nervously and then ripped it up and rolled the paper into a ball and threw it back at me. When Jay was on the mound, the ball hurled at you at a frightening speed. This pitch, though, fluttered carelessly onto the ground, not even hitting its intended mark. He wasn’t used to anyone standing up to him and it showed.

When I asked what was wrong with the names, I pointed out Ted Williams name, the former Boston Red Sox outfielder who I knew he would recognize. But Jay reacted like it was beneath him, like he was a world-renowned mathematician and I was asking him to do simple addition or subtraction. I waited for some kind of comeback, maybe even a snicker, but none came.

Jay ignored me the rest of the day and that was fine by me. I felt vindicated. I would’ve preferred hitting a triple or home run off him. My booksmarts though helped put him in his place. My list to him was old news. To me, it was hitting the winning home run in the seventh game of the World Series.

Thank you George Brett!