One Fan’s Case for Littell as USAToday Sports Minor League Player of the Year

I have happily come to learn that a favorite Minor League baseball player of mine is a nominee for the USA Today Minor Leaguer of the Year. Zack Littell, a pitcher for the Minnesota Twins AA affiliate Chattanooga Lookouts joins Ronald Acuna (OF, Atlanta Braves), Rafael Devers (3B, Red Sox), Jack Flaherty (SP, Cardinals) and Rhys Hoskins (1B/OF, Phillies) in the list of contenders.

usatodaymilb Any one of these guys could win it and every one of them are likely deserving; but since I’ve seen Littell pitch multiple times for one of my favorite teams, I want to make a case on his behalf.

Littell, who started the year with the NY Yankees in Tampa, pitched himself to a 9-1 record. He earned himself a promotion to the AA affiliate Trenton Thunder. This is where I first heard of the guy and wow, did he make an impression.

Posting a 5-0 record with the Thunder including two separate outings when he fired 10k’s each, this kid made me even more excited about the Yankees future than I already was. When you consider we have prospects like Gleyber Torres, Clint Frazier, and Chance Adams, we Yankee fans have a lot to look forward to. Littell made it even better.

Then, we traded him in the Jamie Garcia deal. He moves from Trenton, NJ to Chattanooga, TN and begins his tenure in the Twins system. I kept watching each start (or listening online), and in six starts earned 5 wins, no losses and one no decision.

Let’s do the math.

The dude is 19-1. That’s crazy. 19-1? 19-1!

Zack Littell with Minnesota Twins AA affiliate Chattanooga Lookouts

I am no a scout. I’m not a pro. I have never been either and maybe I listen to too much NY Sports Talk radio. But 19-1 doesn’t just happen. That isn’t luck or doctoring a ball with a Blarney Stone. That takes something much more.

Yes, he has had some solid run support. The Thunder and Lookouts can hit and they are leading their respective divisions and they’ve scored some runs for him when he needed them. there is no denying it, but it has to be more than that.

It’s intellect.

You’d agree with me would you not, that the role of pitcher is more than fastballs, curves and off-speed stuff? it requires patience, cunning, a little risk taking and good judgement. These are important items in this thinking man’s game, right?

Littell has a good dose of that necessary brainpower and seems to be getting wiser with each start.

When I watch him pitch I don’t see him as the overpowering, I’m gonna shave your stubble with a 4-seam fastball intimidation approach type of pitcher. He thinks things through.

Does he think too much?

No idea. I’m not in his head.

Does he get rattled and if yes, is he too hard on himself when he does?

Still no idea. Still not in his head.

He probably does. I mean, we all do. But what I saw in person, and what I have watched on my computer screen, is the deliberate and thoughtful pitching approach of a ballplayer who knows his future is dependent on far more than a strong arm and a filthy curveball.

That’s what you don’t see or immediately assume in a 19-1 record.

Zack Littell with the Trenton Thunder earlier this year

He makes mistakes of course. Ask the guys he’s plunked, there’s been like 14 of them (ha ha, sorry, just kidding) … but in his defense no one’s perfect. Besides, none of his mistakes have been overwhelming. None of them have been very costly. That doesn’t just happen either. That’s repeatedly using sound judgement in pitch selection and execution.

It is also being willing to make the mistakes he needs to, while simultaneously working to establish a balance of technique, strength and discernment. Clearly he has the raw talent to do well in baseball. His numbers support that beyond the W/L. He has an average of 8.2k’s per 9 innings pitched and 2.3bb/9 innings and a Strikeout to Walk ration of 3.63 to 1. He hasn’t lost since April 21. He is a pitcher who will outsmart hitters. Selfishly, those are my favorite pitchers in baseball.

So, my argument on behalf of Littell is this: to have wisdom at such a young age of 21, is good fortune. Maybe even a gift. But to process it, use it knowingly and execute effectively as a result of it … well … that may be a bit of wisdom beyond his years.

Baseball is and will always be a thinking man’s game and I feel this should be taken into consideration when the panel votes for their USA Today MiLB Player of the Year.

Again, all five guys have a shot; all five guys can make a solid argument.

But when I look at his 19-1 record, it is clear he has learned from past starts, is present and in the moment at game-time and he is carefully and methodically constructing a future as a big league ballplayer using more than his arm.

Baseball: Life’s Most Enjoyable and Affordable Form of Therapy

Zack Zehner connects with one at Arm & Hammer Park

This summer marks the first in four years I haven’t needed to work a second job.

As a result, two wonderful things happened. First, I spent more nights and weekends with My Favorite than I have in years. Together Stacy and I spend time sitting on our back deck, reading, drinking wine, listening to music, taking our dog for long walks, catching up on some good television and simply being in each other’s company. It’s been the greatest gift I have received in years.

Second, I have also used this free time to go to a lot of minor league baseball games. This has proven to be more beneficial than I ever imagined it would. I thought it might be fun to see a few ballgames and my wallet not get gauged in the process. So, after finding myself seeing about 10 games of the Somerset Patriots and another 10 of the Trenton Thunder, I learned something about myself. I learned there is no better way to clear my mind that is more enjoyable, and more affordable, than minor league baseball.

I can tell you that years ago I used to see a therapist and she was tremendous. Through our sessions, I learned what I needed to do in order for it to be successful. I had to enter with a need, and then leave improved.

Often, I did.

I also learned going to the therapy is both expensive and brief. Costing anywhere from $75 to $150 an hour (more in the city), and lasting anywhere from 45 to 60 minutes, it seemed a bit expensive.

As it happens, I unwittingly found the answers to my concerns. I have found a new therapist! The rates are fantastic and there isn’t exactly a time limit. There are two offices I can choose from; both are huge and seat thousands at a time. They encourage yelling, screaming, cheering, dancing, singing, and even hugging a six-foot dog (Sparkee) or bird (Boomer) that spends the better part of his time inspiring others. Of course you are at the mercy of their schedule and availability, but you can make an effort to make it work on your end.

It’s the ballpark.

For about 15 bucks I can get at least two, sometimes three, hours of therapy in one shot.

I have learned for it to work – and I mean really work – you have to look beyond running the bases and scoring runs. You have to look beyond winning and losing.

For me, it begins like many good things, standing at attention for the playing of our national anthem, our baseball cap pressed to our chest.

And then …

– It’s looking over at the woman or man next to you, and you see them saluting. Veterans, you realize and a renewed appreciation for the anthem rings in your heart.
– It’s the purity of that one moment between the end of the anthem and just before the Ump cries “PLAY BALL!.” If there is one solitary moment that I love most, it may be that one.
– It’s watching a pitcher on the mound; his eyes focused below the brim of his cap.
– It’s him shaking off a sign, and then nodding.
– It’s wondering what he shook off.
– It’s the wind up and delivery, the release and follow through of the pitch.
– It’s the pop you hear from the catcher’s mitt, when a 95 MPH fastball is caught.
– It’s the cracking sound the bat makes when it connects with a 95 MPH fastball.
– It’s the home run that reached the upper deck.
– It’s watching a professional ballplayer, in some cases just a kid, mature and learn life lessons on the diamond.
– It’s that same kid dumbfounding seasoned ballplayers with his table dropping curveball.
– It’s an Umpire who puts some Oomph in his calls and bellows an animated “Youuuuuuuu’re OUT!”.
– It’s the childlike smile on the face of the 60-year-old “kid” who just caught a foul ball.
– It’s hearing him tell his wife “this is the first one I ever caught.“
– It’s when the team mascot decides YOU are perfect person to join him or her in their next set of antics.
– It’s when the woman you love most in the world shudders when you follow the mascot.
– It’s cracking open peanuts from their shell.
– It’s when you notice how brilliantly white the bases are at the beginning of a game.
– It’s the perfectly raked infield.
– It’s white balls and red stitching.
– It’s watching an outfielder track down a fly ball. Later he tells his teammate his glove is where triples go to die.
– It’s grown men staying boys, imagining they are their heroes from years ago.
– It’s rising to your feet when a ball is hit deep.
– It’s a pitcher’s best friend – a 6-4-3 double play.
– It’s that surprise breeze when it hits the sweat on your neck while basking in the sun.
– It’s the familiar rallying cries you hear from stadium to stadium.
– It’s the hand clapping and the foot stomping.
– It’s the guy two sections over trying to bring back “the wave.”
– It’s Cracker Jacks.
– It’s standing up and stretching after the top half of the 7th and singing Take Me Out to the Ballgame.
– It’s smiling when people sing “and I don’t care if I ever get back…” when you know it’s “never get back.”
– It’s watching the runner on first getting a good jump to steal.
– It’s the catcher throwing a frozen rope to the shortstop then putting the tag on the would-be base stealer.
– It’s watching the umpire get excited when calling him out or safe.

It’s more than I can describe. If you love this game as I do, then we both know I have only scraped the surface.

Atlantic League All-Star Game at TD Bank Ballpark

When I walk in the gates an hour before the first pitch, I hope to put my troubles behind me.

When it is time to leave, win or lose, I am always where I need to be. Relaxed. Happier. Kinder.

I entered with a need. I left with pure joy in my heart. I would venture to guess that could qualify as “improved.”

Live minor league baseball – it has become my life’s greatest form of therapy.

Follow me on Twitter at @patrickkerrison

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Coming this Friday, August 25th …

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Why Sparkee – The Somerset Patriots Mascot – Would Be the Perfect Therapist.

She Should of Drilled Me, Instead

I didn’t expect her to start me off with the hammer. But when it came I swear I saw it so well it was the size of a cantaloupe. I’m gonna drive that ball 400’ and I can’t miss.

Yet, I do. Fell right off the damned table and fooled me.

Stiiiiiiiiiiiirike one.

Trying again, I thought she’d throw another deuce. I was right. But this one looked like it was going to hang. My eyes, and the ball, got big. I was ready for it to break on me late but not that much. Fooled again. Swing and a miss.

Stiiiiiiiiiiiirike twooooooo.

Now I’m in the hole, 0 and 2. Another deuce? Maybe heat? She’s fooled me twice, she wouldn’t a third time, would she? I bear down and shorten up on the bat.

She winds, kicks, and delivers. She is deliberate and disciplined, methodical in her approach and has inexplicable volumes of experience. She fires a vapor-ball toward the plate. Coming in chest high, I pull the trigger. Yes! Heat! THIS I can hit, I think. I got this. Say goodbye to Mr. Rawlings.

Man, I swung and missed so hard I made the Mighty Casey look like Tinkerbell tiptoeing through the tulips.

She didn’t come with the heat. It was a slider. The bleeping thing broke on me and I left a three-foot hole in the batters box.

Stiiiiiiiiiiiirike three!

Boys and girls, lemme tell you, when Mother Nature is on the bump, she’s got some filthy stuff.

Or, in other words …

I had tickets to last Thursday and Saturday’s Somerset Patriot baseball games. I also had a ticket for Monday’s Thunder game in Trenton. For weeks, I was elated at the prospect of my three-games-in-five-days schedule. Iowa ain’t got nuthin’ on Bridgewater and Trenton. THIS is Heaven.

Thursday – July 20, 2017 TD Bank Ballpark

Well, by the fourth inning of Thursday’s Patriots game, rain gave reason to pull the tarp. I waited 45 minutes then went home. I thought they would call it off. “I have tickets to two more games,” I told myself. “Not a worry.”

Wrong.Mother Nature threw me a curve and put a stop to the rain. Shortly after settling in at home I received an alert on my phone tells me the tarp is coming off. Patriots and Bees will resume play at 9:25 p.m. Kyle Roller proceeds to hit not one, but two home runs, driving in four and the Patriots win 5-1.

Strike one on me.

Saturday comes and my Stacy joins me. The rains move in an hour before they holler Play Ball! Tonight could go either way. I told Stace “let’s not bother. You will have a lousy time in the rain. I’m the baseball nerd here. I live for this stuff. Not you,” I say.

Me & My Favorite

She won’t hear of it. “C’mon, Patrick. Let’s go,” she says. “Let’s give it a shot.”

I love this woman more every day. You’ve no idea.

We go to TD Bank Ballpark and with a delayed start get there by the first pitch. It starts to look good.

We get to our seats, watch an inning or two in and it starts to mist. We can handle it. Then it drizzles. We are toughing it out. Then it rains and it is time for funnel cake. 1,600 calories a bite, we waddle back to our seat and the rain lets up.

Rats. I spoke to soon. Here it comes again.

Saturday – July 22, 2017 TD Bank Ballpark

We admit to ourselves and each other it’s time to go. It wasn’t going to let up. On our drive home Patriots announcer Marc Schwartz told his listeners they’re reaching for the tarp. About an hour later, it was called.

Strike two.

Monday’s forecast did not look too bad. Not overly promising, but not bad. I felt good about my chances. Hell, I even bought a Trenton Thunder umbrella with clear panels to see through just in case it is just a passing shower. As a matter of fact, as she reads this very post, Stacy is also learning for the first time that I bought a Trenton Thunder umbrella – for $25.00 – even though I had another umbrella in the car at the time . 🙂

The evening started with beautiful weather. Mild, slight breeze and zero humidity and – dare I say it – sunshine.

Monday July 24, 2017 Arm & Hammer Park

Then, of course, BECAUSE I WAS AT THE FLIPPING GAME, Mother Nature had different plans.

In the middle of the fourth, the sky behind the stadium grew black. The Umps called time and said get the tarp. Within seconds it poured. There was thunder, lightning, and water teaming from the heavens. A deluge of rain fell on the Thunder faithful racing toward the concourse. As time went on and the umpires decided what to do, I grabbed a beer and kept my eyes open for an Ark.

The battery on my cell was dead so I could not look at the radar. I resorted to prayer, pleading it will pass through. I kept the faith. Damn it, I’m getting at least one game in this week!

Nope.

It didn’t stop. The umpires gave it an hour and threw up their hands. Game postponed.

Strike three.

I suppose if you were to look at the bright side of this story it would be (a) I got to go to the ballpark three times (b) If you add up all the innings I did see, it’s almost like a full game (c) I had funnel cake and (d) I can use the tickets from the rainouts for another game. It’s like getting free baseball!

But, that might be you. I don’t.

Far as I’m concerned, I would have rather Mother Nature drill me in the ribs than miss three baseball games.

Thunder Rumble

With the exception of every dog that ever lived, and a relatively select group of fine human beings, I can’t say I have loved anything more than the game of baseball. A feeling proven once again last night.

View From My Seat I took in another game. Trenton Thunder (Yankees AA affiliate) and the Binghamton Rumble Ponies (Mets AA affiliate). Sitting on the third base line, just to the left of the dugout (when facing), three rows up on the aisle. Oh, this was a nice seat. I figured since my May 13 game got rained out, I could exchange that ticket for this one. I was joined by 6,029 others and more than a handful were Met fans.

Despite a total of nine runs scored, I saw some good pitching. Yefry Ramirez was solid through the first three until he was pulled (broken nail on his pitching hand). Nestor Cortes came in, letting up three runs over the next six innings to get the win.

On the Binghamton side this kid Blake Beavan took the loss (1-1) after throwing for 6IP, 8H, 4R, 4ER, 6K and 0BB.
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To be fair, I have 20 years on the guy but truth is Beavan is far from a kid at 28. A 2007 first round draft pick out of Texas, he spent a couple of years in the big leagues compiling a 16-20 overall record with the Mariners. (4.61 ERA; 293 IP 326 hits, 150 of his 151 runs were earned, 46HR, 137K and 47BB).

So, why would I focus on the losing pitcher? Because he is what I remember most when I think about last night’s game.

Listen to me when I tell you, the guy looked fierce on the mound. Sure, Miguel Andujar took him deep in the bottom of the third, and maybe the Thunder scored four runs off the guy in total. But there is no doubting the intimidating force on the mound. Look at him.

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Dude is 6’7” and 245 lbs. Now, put that on a hill and have him throw a ball at you. I mean, toward you. Better pray to the good Lord it ain’t at you.

Don’t believe in God? Bet you’ll start second guessing that notion once you set foot in the box against this guy. Seriously, would you wanna be sixty-feet and six inches from a blazing fastball coming from a dude looking at you like this?

Well, have at it pal. I sure as heck ain’t ready for it. That’s why Section 116 Row A Seat 1 was best for me.

For a guy who looked like he could eat batters for lunch, one thing I noticed was his patience coming off the mound. There were more than a couple of instances when mental errors by teammates cost his arm more pitches than I thought necessary.

But unfortunately for Beavan, but not for us Thunder fans, the Ponies didn’t impress at the plate to give him enough run support.

I hope this kid makes it back up to the majors. I really do. I’d love to see it happen. My favorite baseball stories are always about the guys who grind it out in the bus leagues, have a healthy stint of time in the bigs, get sent down, then fight like hell to get back. Once they get back they’re better in so many ways.

I’m rootin’ for this big dog from Texas to be one of them.

The game put the Thunder (34-18) an additional game ahead of the Rumble Ponies (29-19) in the Eastern League standings with a three game lead.

Here are a bunch of pictures from the game. Enjoy.