Playing catch in the subway

Several nights ago, while heading home from Yankee Stadium, there was a very long wait for the train at 149th Street. My friend Greg Barasch was with me, and this is how we passed the time:

I hope this isn’t illegal, or if it is, I hope it’s only slightly illegal. For the record, no trains, people, or baseballs were harmed during the making of this video.

7/31/14 at Camden Yards

As much as I love Camden Yards, I hadn’t considered making this trip until my friend Brandon suggested it earlier in the week. Not only is he a professional photographer/videographer, but the Angels were going be in town, and my girlfriend Hayley was free; I simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to bring her to a game and see Mike Trout in person and end up with a bunch of cool photos of myself.

Why do I love this stadium so much? There are lots of reasons, starting with the fact that it opens before it opens . . . sort of. On game days, the Eutaw Street gates (which can be found at either end of the warehouse) are wide open to the general public until 4pm. Then the stadium shuts down for an hour and re-opens to ticketed fans at 5pm. We arrived shortly after three o’clock, which is when Brandon took this photo of me:


As you can see above, the groundskeepers were watering the infield, and the batting cage was set up — and before long, several players began taking early BP:


At around 3:50pm, I noticed two fans poking their heads out of a tunnel in deep right-center field. That surprised me because I’d always assumed that the seating bowl was closed at this time. I wandered over to take a peek for myself, and sure enough, there were no employees or gates keeping me out. Here’s what it looked like as I headed into the tunnel:


I got the sense that I wasn’t really supposed to be there — that stadium security had somehow made a mistake by leaving this area open — so I stayed in the tunnel and took a few photos. The right-center field seats were totally empty . . .


. . . and after a little while, the Orioles started playing catch along the right field foul line:



I didn’t want to get in trouble, but was I breaking the rules? I mean, if no one told me to leave, then in a roundabout way, wasn’t that an invitation to stay? All I wanted to do was hang out there for the first group of BP and snag a ball (or two . . . or ten) in the empty seats. I had already decided to exit the stadium before 5pm so that I could buy tickets and meet up with Brandon (who was now waiting outside the gates) and Hayley (who was wandering the neighborhood in search of food).

“Excuse me,” said a voice from behind, causing my heart to beat a bit faster. “Are you waiting for someone?”

When I turned around, I was relieved to see that it was a concession worker, who was probably half my age.

“Uhh . . . no,” I stammered. “I just wandered in when the Eutaw Street gates were open, and somehow I ended up over here.”

“The gates are closed now,” he said. “You’re not even supposed to be here.”

“Oh, seriously? Well, how can I get out?”

“Come with me,” he said politely, leading me toward the open-air concourse. “You need to find a security supervisor and tell him why you’re here and ask him to let you out.”

Yeah, THAT wasn’t gonna happen. No one needed to know why I was inside the stadium.

The concession worker pointed me toward a supervisor and thankfully headed back to his stand. Then, before the supervisor had a chance to say anything, I pointed confidently at a glass door (which I knew led into an office that had another set of doors on the far side that led to the street) and said, “Can I exit that way?”

He said yes, and that was it.

When I finally made it outside, I was 10 percent relieved to have escaped the mini-ordeal and 90 percent annoyed not to have gotten any baseballs for my trouble.

One of the first people I ran into outside the gates was a guy named Stuart, who knew I was going to be here and brought his copy of The Baseball for me to sign. Here we are:


Before the stadium opened, I met a fellow ballhawk named Grant Edrington (pictured below in the middle) and caught up with my friend Alex Kopp (pictured below on the right):


Those two guys could not possibly be any friendlier.

When the stadium opened for real at 5pm, I ran like hell to the left field seats and *barely* missed out on a pair of baseballs that were sitting in the front row. Just as I was cutting across from left-center field, an older fan charged down the steps in straight-away left and beat me to them by about two seconds. It was painful, but I did get some revenge several minutes later — more on that in a bit, but first, here I am just before snagging my first ball of the day:


If you look closely at the photo above, you’ll see me (wearing the black T-shirt) in the front row. The player closest to me was T.J. McFarland. See him reaching up to catch a fly ball? That’s probably what appears to be happening, when in fact he was in the process of moving his glove out of the way. You see, moments before the ball landed, I shouted, “LET IT BOUNCE!!” and to my surprise, he did. The ball then landed on the warning track and bounced right to me:


Moments later, while still holding that ball in my right hand, I climbed back over a row for a home run:


Here I am jumping and reaching back; look closely and you’ll see the ball circled in red at the top of the photo:


I’m not sure who hit it, but I can tell you that I caught it. Here it is poking out of my glove . . .


. . . and look! It had a commemorative logo:


I didn’t really care that the logo was messed up because I’d snagged a much better one earlier in the season. In fact, I kinda liked that this ball wasn’t perfect.

Meanwhile, there was lots of competition from my fellow ballhawks — something that never used to happen here as recently as five to ten years ago. Back then, I probably made several uncontested catches per day, but now that’s pretty much unheard of. Now there are far more fans and ballhawks, even during the first half-hour when only people with season tickets can get into to the left field seats, so unless a home run gets hit VERY far or lands in an unlikely spot, there’s almost always someone camped underneath it. Here’s some photographic evidence:


As you can see above, I was one of three guys who converged at the landing spot. All of our gloves ended up in exactly the same place . . .


. . . and no, I didn’t catch that one.

(Did you notice the two baseballs in my right hand? Did you notice the players looking back at us?)

Remember when I mentioned getting revenge? Here’s how it played out:


In the photo above, the man who’d snatched the two Easter eggs is wearing a backpack (rookie mistake) and has a glove on his right hand. Fortunately for me on this home run, he was in the row behind me, so I was able to jump . . .


. . . and catch the ball right in front of his glove. He was a good sport about it, and he should’ve been. He had beaten me fair-n-square for the two baseballs when we first ran in, and now I’d gotten him back with a well-timed leap. This was ballhawking at its best. There were plenty of balls/opportunities for everyone, and there was no pushing or shoving — just a lot of running and jumping and, from what I gathered, mutual respect.

Here I am with my first three balls of the day:


I’m pretty sure that J.J. Hardy hit at least one or two of them, but things were moving so fast that I lost track of which ball was which. If Brandon hadn’t been there taking photos, I might not have remembered the details about every ball — which direction I ran, when I jumped or climbed over a row of seats, etc.

A minute or two later, everyone turned their backs on the field in pursuit of a deep home run:


It ended up landing on a staircase and bouncing into the seats above the cross-aisle, and look who snagged it:



And that was her first ball ever!
And it had a pristine commemorative logo!

Part of me felt bad for all the other guys who would’ve loved to snag it, but the other part of me was like, ha-HAAAAAA!!! Suck it!! In your FACE!! You got beaten by someone who doesn’t even like baseball and didn’t even have a glove and wasn’t even trying!!

And now for the play-by-play: when the ball had first bounced into her section, Hayley was slow to react, so when she started moving, I offered some words of encouragement, which went something like this: “GET IT, HAYLEY!!! GET IT, HAYLEY!!!” The ball landed in the middle of the section, roughly four rows back. Rather than climbing over the seats toward it (as I would’ve done in anticipation of the ball trickling down), she ran up the steps and cut across. Luckily for her, the ball was still resting in the folded-up portion of the seat, and she grabbed it. It was a beautiful moment.

As for me, here I am catching my fourth ball of the day:


I was standing on a seat, which *barely* allowed me to reach above the glove of the guy who was jumping in front of me.

Then I had a little chat with Chris Tillman (who asked what my lifetime ball total was up to) and Miguel Gonzalez:


Here I am jumping yet again for my fifth ball:


I had to make a tough decision when the next group of Orioles started hitting: stay in left field or head to the Flag Court in right field. It was only about 5:15pm, so left field was going to remain empty-ish for another 15 minutes, but (if I’m remembering correctly) three of the four batters were left-handed. It was a classic dilemma. Should I pick the less-crowded spot where there would be fewer opportunities or the more crowded spot where there’d be more action?

I decided to run to the Flag Court, and Brandon came with me. Here I am standing near the back:


The only reason I wasn’t wearing my glove is that I was drenched in sweat. I was trying to let my left hand dry out, but I was ready to spring into action. And then I had my chance. One of the lefties cranked a ball toward the edge of the Flag Court. I knew exactly where it was going to land; the only challenge was weaving in and out of people and getting there in time. As the ball descended, I made it to the side railing . . .


. . . and reached over it . . .


. . . and made a back-handed catch:


Here I am with the ball moments later:


While everyone around me was cheering and smiling, I was just thinking, “Hmph, getting around all you people made that a lot harder than it should’ve been,” but really, it felt great, mainly because I don’t get to make plays like that in New York.

A few minutes later, I had another opportunity on a very deep home run — see me at the back of the Flag Court?


At first I didn’t think the ball would reach the cross-aisle behind the seats, and when it occurred to me that it *would* sail that far, I didn’t think I had any chance of snagging it because the aisle was so crowded. But hey, why not move toward it and give myself a chance, right? Here’s the ball just before it landed:


Did you notice that the two guys reaching up for it were not wearing gloves? Did you notice me inching closer? (See the brick column on the right? See the orange sign just to the left of it? My head is in front of that.) The ball ended up clanging off their hands and landing at my feet for an easy snag — my seventh of the day. I found out later from Grant and Alex, who had seen me from afar, that the first ball I caught on the Flag Court was hit by David Lough, and the second one was hit by Chris Davis. And by the way, three of my seven balls were commemorative.

When the Angels took the field, I threw on my bright red Angels cap and headed toward the left field foul line, but didn’t quite get there quickly enough to say hello to Mike Trout. As I was racing through the empty seats, he was completing his final warm-up throws and jogged off five seconds before I got there. That was a bummer. I’ve only seen him once this year, and though he remembered me, I’m concerned that I’m not making my presence known enough. I don’t really know what I want from him at this point. I guess it’s just cool to be acknowledged by one of the best baseball players in the world.

Anyway, when Trout headed toward the batting cage, I spent a few minutes here:


The only good thing that happened in foul territory was that I got to say hello to Tom Gregorio, the Angels’ bullpen catcher, who recognizes me and is VERY nice. We didn’t talk long, but it was good to see him.

A minute later, I thought I was going to get a ball from John McDonald . . .


. . . but he rejected me . . .


. . . in favor of a little kid. Can’t argue with that.

Then I put on my red Angels shirt, raced out to the seats in right-center, and got rejected by C.J. Wilson:


I won’t claim this was a day of highs and lows. It was mostly highs, and I got awfully lucky on a bunch of home runs during BP. The point is . . . for every ball I snagged, there were two or three others that eluded me for various reasons.

Here I am peering over the side railing in right-center field:


That’s not a terribly interesting photo, but I’ve shared it so you can visualize what I’m about to tell you — the story of the only ball I snagged that Brandon *didn’t* photograph. While I was standing in that approximate spot, Trout launched a deep fly ball in my direction. I shuffled over a bit in order to line myself up with it and quickly realized that it was going to fall several feet short of the seats. Still, I knew it had a chance to be a home run, and I was hoping it’d land in the narrow gap behind the outfield wall. If that happened, I’d have an easy opportunity to snag it with my glove trick. As it turned out, the ball hit the very top of the wall and deflected high above me — an unbelievably lucky bounce nearly straight up in the air. That said, the catch itself was a challenge because a man in the row below jumped for it, and another man in the row above me reached for it, but I jumped and reached the highest and came down with it.

Josh Hamilton was also hitting in that group. Whenever he stepped into the cage, I moved a few sections to my left (closer to straight-away right field). Here I am *not* catching one of his bombs:


Here’s a closer look at the photo above:


Personally, I prefer to use lotion to protect myself against the sun, but hey, whatever works for you.

I was moving all over the place during that group of hitters and eventually positioned myself much deeper for Hamilton. Moments later, as if on cue, he crushed the ball well over my head. Rather than standing still and gawking (as everyone else near me seemed to do), I started running toward the spot where I thought it was going to land:


Luck, once again, was on my side. No one else made any effort to chase the ball, and conveniently it didn’t ricochet too far away, enabling me to swoop in and grab it:


That was my ninth ball of the day, and there was one group of BP remaining. Here’s where I went:


Did you spot me in the photo above? I was standing toward the bottom of the staircase, and it was a total waste of time. The only opportunity I got was when Jered Weaver walked over to retrieve this ball on the warning track:


I had already set up the glove trick, and just as he approached the ball, I dangled my contraption halfway down the outfield wall. That’s all it took to get his attention, at which point I yelled, “Kick the ball a little closer and I’ll show you a magic trick!”

Weaver complied and then stood back to watch:


As I adjusted the rubber band around my glove, I yelled, “Hey, Jered, if security gives me a hard time, you got my back, right?”

“I don’t know about that,” he replied.

I had heard that security had cracked down on ball-retrieving devices, but figured I’d give it a shot. If the guard on the field told me to stop, then I would, and if he didn’t say anything, then I’d have double digits.

Here I am lowering my glove over the ball . . .


. . . and here I am raising my glove with the ball tucked inside:


Security never said a word.

Weaver said, “That’s pretty impressive.”

That was my 10th ball (including eight home runs), and I was in a great mood. I’d gotten lucky on a bunch of balls and made some good plays on others. I was with Hayley. Brandon had taken lots of photos. The weather was great. I was really looking forward to the game. And everyone I ran into was super-friendly. Over the course of the day, a bunch of people recognized me and said hello. During BP, a young man named Johnathan had some nice things to say and snapped a selfie with me, which he later tweeted. After BP, I was approached by a young/tall fan named Nick whose mother grabbed a photo of us . . .


. . . and later in the day, a man named Aaron stopped to tell me that he enjoys my blog. I really appreciated all of that, and it’s part of the reason I’ve written such a long entry about this game. It’s nice to know that there are actually lots of people out there who will read this and enjoy it and perhaps pick up a few tips to snag baseballs for themselves.

Roughly twenty minutes before game time, when Angels starter Tyler Skaggs was getting loose in the outfield, I wandered down to the front row in left-center and asked bullpen coach Steve Soliz for a ball. When he looked up at me, he smiled and said two words: “YOU again!”

Brandon is convinced that every major leaguer knows who I am. That seems unlikely, but I suppose more of them recognize me than I realize. It’s nice being recognized except when it costs me a baseball, which is pretty much EVERY time I’m recognized, so therefore it sucks to be recognized.

When Skaggs moved to the bullpen, I got as close to him as possible. Brandon came with me and continued to document the action:


I would’ve liked to make one final attempt to catch up with Mike Trout along the left field foul line, but it was a zoo over there so I didn’t bother. Trout-mania was in full effect:


Brandon made that collage with photos that he’d taken over the course of the day.

Of the 18 batters in the starting lineups, 13 were right-handed — and left field was packed. Therefore I spent most of the game lurking in the tunnels and going for foul balls. Here I am on the 1st base side of home plate . . .


. . . and here I am on the 3rd base side:


I’m sorry to say that stadium security has gotten much stricter about not allowing people to stand in the tunnels, so if you’re planning to do it, be careful and keep moving and don’t stand at the very front, where the tunnels connect to the cross-aisle.

Brandon hung out with me for the 1st inning, and then we went our separate ways. He ended up taking photos like this . . .


. . . and this:


I ended up hanging out with Grant and Alex on the Flag Court . . .


. . . but only for a few minutes at a time. They stayed there all night, but I couldn’t deal with it. It became much more crowded, and there were only five lefties, so I kept moving back into foul territory.

Here’s a photo that Brandon took of Mike Trout at bat:


Here’s a photo I took of the scoreboard and jumbrotron with two outs in the bottom of the 5th inning:


It was a big/disappointing moment. Skaggs was pitching a no-hitter, but had to be taken out of the game because of an injury, which turned out to be a partially torn UCL. Yikes! (A week and a half later, Skaggs opted to have Tommy John Surgery which would keep him out of action until 2016.)

Here’s what it looked like on the Flag Court late in the game:


Here’s a funky side-view around the edge of the Flag Court:


Can you spot me in the following photo?


I had one VERY close call on a foul ball. Basically I had to move 10 feet to my right to get in line with it, and it ended up sailing five feet over my head. If it had been one foot lower, I would’ve jumped, but instead I held my ground and prepared for a bobble or ricochet. No such luck.

The game was still scoreless in the 11th inning:


Even though I had to drive back to New York City that night, I really wanted to stay — but let’s just say it wasn’t meant to be. Brandon, Hayley, and I left the stadium in the bottom of the 11th . . .


. . . and listened to the rest of the game on the radio. The Angels ended up winning, 1-0, in 13 innings, which was good. The longest game I’ve ever been to was 17 innings, so if this one had lasted longer, I would’ve been pissed to miss it.

Here are the 10 balls that I snagged:


I feel kinda bad about not giving any of them away to kids. That’s something I do at nearly every game I attend, but hey . . . two days earlier at Citi Field, I gave away four, and the day after this game, I gave away two, so I think I’m doing pretty well overall.


• 10 baseballs at this game

• 350 balls in 50 games this season = 7 balls per game.

• 541 lifetime balls in 58 games at Camden Yards = 9.33 balls per game.

• 1,016 consecutive games with at least one ball

• 366 consecutive games outside of New York with at least one ball

• 249 lifetime games with 10 or more balls

• 7,526 total balls


(I’m raising money again this season for Pitch In For Baseball, a non-profit charity that provides baseball equipment to underprivileged kids all over the world. Click here to learn about my fundraiser, and if you donate money, you’ll be eligible to win one of these prizes.)

• 20 donors for my fundraiser

• $1.62 pledged per ball (if you add up all the pledges)

• $16.20 raised at this game

• $567.00 raised this season

• $39,231.00 raised since I started my fundraiser in 2009

7/23/14 at Yankee Stadium

The highlight of the day was snagging my 7,500th baseball — a toss-up from some random trainer-lookin’ guy on the Rangers. Here I am with it after batting practice:


That was my sixth of seven balls. My first of the day had been thrown by Adrian Beltre, the last was tossed by Rougned Odor, and the other four were BP homers by the Rangers, three of which I caught on the fly.

The lowlight of the day (other than getting into a shouting match with an old guy during BP who yanked my arm down to prevent me from reaching for a ball) was misjudging Brett Gardner’s home run in the 3rd inning. I should’ve caught it, but instead managed to maneuver myself out of position. It was horrendously dumb . . . but the Yankees’ grounds crew seemed to be even dumber. Check out the following photo:


When it started raining in the bottom of the 5th inning, I got caught in traffic on the stairs, and before I made it into the tunnel, I took a quick peek back at the field. It appeared that the crew was pulling the tarp *off* the infield and moving it into the outfield.


A minute or two later, it was raining so hard that they couldn’t move it back onto the infield. As a result (and as you can see in the photo above), the dirt turned into a muddy lake.

It wasn’t supposed to rain for long, but I took off. I figured the field was so messed up that it would take the crew an hour to fix it — if it could even be played on at all. And I was right. As it turned out, the game was going to resume at around 10pm, but then the managers came out and inspected the field and were like, “Nope, not gonna happen.” Here’s an article and video about the tarp incident on

As for me, I’ve now been to 46 games this season and snagged 325 balls. That’s a decent total, but I’m not too happy about my lack of game home runs. I’ve only gotten two, which is pretty lame. I’m thinking about traveling to Chicago and/or San Diego to snag some commemorative balls, but I’m not sure if it’ll happen.

Amazing article in “The New Yorker”

new_yorker_06_23_14aThere’ve been lots of articles written about me over the years, none worse than last season’s profile in The New Yorker. The guy who wrote it went out of his way to make me look bad, so when my family learned six months ago that the magazine was planning to publish a much bigger story about us and our book store, we were all a bit nervous. Fast-forward to the present. The new story is out, and let’s just say the magazine redeemed itself (and then some). I hope you’ll read the entire article, but if your time is limited and you just want to check out the part about me, scroll all the way to the bottom and look for the portion highlighted in pink. Here are the first two of 12 pages:


In the photo above (which, as the caption says, was taken in the 1980s), that’s my mom on the left of the center fold. The other four people are my aunts and grandparents.

Here are pages 3-4:


Here are pages 5-6:


Here are pages 7-8:


Here are pages 9-10:


Here’s the part about me on pages 11-12:


The end!

Huge thanks to The New Yorker and to writer Janet Malcolm for the positive coverage.

6/24/14 at Citi Field

This was a BIG day, and of all places, it started at a cable TV studio in White Plains, NY:


Way back in February, a man named John Vorperian, who hosts a show called Beyond The Game (and is a member of SABR), had gotten in touch and asked if he could interview me. It took a while to nail down a date, and now, finally, four months later, the moment had arrived.

Here’s what the studio looked like . . .


. . . and here’s a photo of John (on the right) in the control room with a guy named Keith:


The interview lasted 27 minutes, and in a couple of weeks, it’ll air commercial-free in its entirety. John was a great host, and we discussed lots of stuff, starting with my baseball collection and eventually branching off into my books, the helicopter stunt, my video game records, my rubber band ball, and even my SAT score (which I guarantee is lower than yours). I love long interviews because there’s time to get into some real oddball stuff.

Here I am with John after the interview:


On my way out, he signed a historical book about White Plains for me, and I signed a baseball for him. He’s a really nice guy, and I wouldn’t have met him if not for Jon Hart, the author of Man Versus Ball.

I would’ve liked to stick around the TV studio for a while and talk more baseball with John, but (a) he had to get back to his regular job two blocks away as an attorney, and (b) I had to get my ass to Citi Field. That involved driving back to Manhattan, scarfing down two slices of pizza as I walked from the garage to my place, changing my clothes, gathering my stuff for the game, and running back out to meet up with David Rhode, the director of my favorite charity — Pitch In For Baseball.

David and I met near the subway and had lots to discuss as we rode the 7 train out to Queens. He was going to be my official “caddy” at the game — something I desperately needed because of a HUGE personal milestone that I was likely to achieve. You know about my consecutive games streak, right? The last time I went to a major league game and didn’t snag a baseball was on September 2, 1993 (at Yankee Stadium, of course). My next game after that was on September 10, 1993, at Shea Stadium. I snagged five balls that day, and ever since then, I have *always* managed to get at least one ball at every game I’ve attended. Fast-forward to the present. At the start of this day, my streak was at 999 games, which meant that my first ball of the day was going to extend it to 1,000. That’s why David was with me — to film me snagging the first ball and take a bunch of photos of whatever happened next.

Here’s David (on the left) and a fellow ballhawk named Rick Gold (on the right) outside the gates:


Here I am feeling rather excited:


That emotion quickly faded when I ran inside at 5:10pm. This is not an exaggeration: ONE MINUTE LATER, the Mets wrapped up batting practice and jogged off the field. They truly suck in more ways than I can possible describe. David and I joked that it was all part of a conspiracy to prevent me from getting to 1,000 consecutive games.

After switching into my A’s gear, I met up with Andrew Harts from’s Cut4:


He was planning to do a little story on me and my streak, but first he had to go cover something else, so we briefly parted ways.

When the A’s finally came out and started throwing, I headed into foul territory in very shallow left field. They seemed to keep throwing and throwing and throwing, but eventually I sensed an opportunity. Here’s a 46-second video that shows how it played out:

Okay, fine, so it was an ordinary pre-game toss-up in a mostly-empty stadium, but hey, it counts just like all the others. The streak was alive and had reached 1,000 games!

Now let me point out several things in the video:

1) When I began yelling at “Brandon” at the five-second mark, that was Brandon Moss. He had been throwing in front of the dugout, so I really had to shout to get his attention. The dugout seats are totally inaccessible during BP, except to fans who have tickets there. The guards check tickets, even at 5:10pm when there’s just a handful of fans in the entire stadium. It blows.

2) At the 12-second mark, when the ball reached its apex, I lost it in the lights. It might look like I made an easy snag, but it was much more challenging than most of the BP homers I’ve caught.

3) David did an amazing job with my camera. At the 15-second mark, you can hear him shout, “And there it is!”

4) Way back in the day, I was treated like absolute crap by security personnel at Shea Stadium. They invented all sorts of rules just for me to prevent me from getting baseballs, and when I refused to obey their asinine commands, they ejected me — FOUR TIMES. They were truly out to get me and often made me cry. The worst of the worst employees personally ejected me twice and threatened to have me “arrested for trespassing” if I ever set foot in the stadium again. He still works for the Mets, and at the 19-second mark, you can see him in a yellow shirt walking out of the tunnel. He’s the first of two supervisors who walked out.

5) When I get excited, my voice goes up about three octaves. Proof lies at the 21-second mark when I start talking about the significance of the ball.

6) The fan who gave me the high-five at the 43-second mark is named Jacob Resnick. Look how much he’s grown since we ran into each other two years earlier. He and I have crossed paths at numerous games; his biggest claim to fame is that he won a contest in 2011 to be the SNY “kidcaster” for an inning, during which he made a memorable call on a Jose Reyes home run.

Once everything calmed down, I posed with the baseball:


Then I headed toward the left field corner, where I tried unsuccessfully for nearly 10 minutes to get another toss-up:


While I was there, I saw a ball land on the batter’s eye. I figured that someone would climb over and grab it, so I waited and watched. And watched. And watched. And couldn’t believe that it went untouched. Eventually I ran over and grabbed it myself. Here I am climbing over the railing . . .


. . . and here I am being nagged by a security guard:


Dear Mets, if fans are allowed to climb over that railing for baseballs, then shut up about it. Tell your guards not to hassle me after I do it. Thanks.

As it turned out, the guard had given me a hard time because he had started to climb over the railing just as I was going for the ball. I ignored him as he shouted at me, and when he walked over, I was like, “What’s the problem? I didn’t do anything against the rules.”

“How did you know that?” he asked. “You’re from Oakland.”

Ahh, I see, so after all these years, the Mets’ security guards STILL invent special rules when it suits their needs. Unbelievable.

Then the guard said, “There’s a one-ball-per-person limit. Don’t climb over again.”

I offered him the ball (something I never would’ve done at Shea Stadium), and even though he didn’t take it, it made him relax and leave me alone.

A few minutes later, I was recognized by a “kid” named Justin who told me that he owns a copy of my first book — How To Snag Major League Baseballs. I put the word kid in quotes because even though he seemed to be less than half my age, he’s about two inches taller. Here we are being photographed together . . .


. . . and here’s another shot that actually shows our faces:


I usually get recognized several times per game, but for some reason, more than a dozen people approached me throughout the day.

The following photo shows my third ball sailing toward me. It was thrown by A’s bullpen catcher Casey Chavez, and I’ve circled it in red:


I immediately offered the ball to the girl in the corner spot, whose father politely declined and informed me that they’d already gotten one.

Moments later, I hurried back over toward the batter’s eye and got my fourth ball of the day from Jim Johnson:


Random side note: I’ve now gotten balls thrown to me by 12 different Johnsons — Ben, Brian, Chris, Howard, Jason, Jim, Jonathan, Kelly, Mark P., Nick, Reed, and Russ.

Meanwhile, how great are these photos? Thanks again to David Rhode from Pitch In For Baseball. For those who don’t know, his charity provides baseball and softball equipment to underprivileged kids all over the world. I’ve been raising money for them since 2009, and if you have a few extra minutes to spare . . .

1) Click here to read more about my fundraiser.
2) Visit the official Pitch In For Baseball website.
3) Follow Pitch In For Baseball on Twitter.

Also, for those of you who are going to the All-Star Fan Fest this year in Minneapolis, look for Pitch In For Baseball. They’re going to have a booth there, and they’ll be collecting donations of baseball and softball equipment.

My fifth ball of the day was an accident. Dan Otero chucked it to the girl in the corner spot — but he airmailed her, and it ended up ricocheting toward me. I scampered after it to prevent anyone else from snatching it, and as soon as I picked it up, I tossed it to her. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Otero had seen the whole thing play out. I figured it out a minute later when he waved to get my attention so that he could throw another ball to me. There were some folks in the front row, so I moved back to give myself some space, and wouldn’t you know it — he airmailed me too! Here’s a six-part photo that shows what happened:


Did you spot the ball in Part 6 of the photo? Look closely and you’ll see it trickling under a seat near my right knee.

My seventh and final ball of BP was thrown near the batter’s eye by A’s coach Ariel Prieto.

Do you remember the kidcaster named Jacob who had given me the high-five in the video? Well, here we are together after BP:


In the photo above, I was holding my first ball of the day — the one that pushed my consecutive games streak to 1,000. Jacob, meanwhile, had reached his own milestone; he was holding his 100th lifetime ball.

Half an hour before game time, David took this photo of me with all my baseballs:


(I had snagged seven at that point and given one away.)

Here’s where David and I got dinner:


For those who don’t know, that concession stand is named after Keith Hernandez — a former Mets player and current Mets TV announcer. I had walked past it on hundreds of occasions, and now, finally, the time had come for me to see what it was all about. David and I both ordered the same thing: The Mex Burger. Let me quote the menu: “Created by Keith & the Citi Field culinary team, a 6oz. LaFrieda burger on a toasted sesame bun with cheddar & jack cheese, topped with bacon, guacamole, chipotle aioli & jalapenos.” We both got it without the jalapenos, and WOW, it was daaaaaamn good! Take a look:


Yes, that’s a Tootsie Pop. It also came with a tiny bag of potato chips (which I didn’t eat). The burger cost $12, which is pricy for a ballpark meal, but given the ingredients and how good it was, I will officially recommend it.

David and I ate fast and barely made it down into our section by the start of the game. This was my view in the top of the 1st inning:


We were in the second row, and as you can see below, David was sitting on my right, and there were about eight empty seats to his right — not a whole lot of room to work with:


While the seats surrounding the foul pole were practically empty, the seats in our area were packed. I told David that I didn’t expect much to come out of sitting in left field, and that as crowded as it was, my biggest concern was simply climbing over him in case a ball happened to be hit to my right.

In the bottom of the 1st, Andrew Harts found me and interviewed me for a couple of minutes:


The photo above was staged after we finished, but that’s basically what it looked like for me. Andrew was crouching on the stairs, and as we kept talking, more and more people overheard the conversation and got curious. Before Andrew left, I joked to him about what would happen if I’d caught a home run during the interview.

“I think we’d break the internet,” he said.

With Andrew long gone and other fans asking me questions about my baseball collection, Eric Campbell led off the bottom of the 2nd with a double. Two pitches later, Curtis Granderson ripped a two-run homer to right field, and just like that, the Mets jumped out to a 2-1 lead. That brought Chris Young and his .597 OPS to the plate.

During the first few pitches of the at-bat, I told David how worthless Young was and that the Mets were supposedly going to release him this week.

Then THIS happened:


Scott Kazmir hung an off-speed pitch, and Young crushed it in our direction. From the moment he connected, I knew that it was going to be a home run, and that it was going to land somewhere near me, off to the right — but just how near? I wasn’t sure, so I did the only thing I could. I jumped up and yelled “Look out!” at David and climbed over him. The arrow in the following screen shot shows where I started:


Did you notice how crowded it was out there? Mama mia!

I drifted 10 feet to my right, and quite simply, as the ball began descending, I knew I was going to catch it.

That’s exactly what happened. And it was extremely easy. The ball was hit to the only spot where I possibly could’ve gone, so there was no guesswork required. Then, conveniently, it came in high enough that the people in front of me couldn’t reach it, but low enough so that I could reach all the way up for a one-handed catch. Here I am at the moment it entered the pocket of my glove:


Here’s another screen shot with two red circles — me on the left and David on the right:


Unfortunately, because Chris Young is so bad, the folks at SNY decided to show his teammates celebrating in the dugout rather than, you know, showing a closeup of the fan who caught the ball, but whatever. I can’t actually blame them for that. Here’s the actual video clip on

The people around me could hardly believe that the guy who had JUST been interviewed about catching baseballs had JUST caught a home run. I got lots of high-fives and photo requests. It was so much fun, and wow . . . to have this happen on the day of my 1,000th consecutive game?! I could hardly believe it myself.

A few minutes later, I tweeted this photo of myself with the ball:


Ballhawking is a funny hobby. This was my 34th game of the season in five different stadiums, and it was the first home run I’d caught on the fly. Back in Australia, I had more room than ever during the game and came up empty. I’ve been to games in both New York stadiums when it rained, and the home team was getting blown out, and there were just a handful of fans in the outfield. No home runs. And yet here at Citi Field on a gorgeous summer night when it seemed that 8 million people were crammed into my section, I caught a home run. Go figure.

Later in the game, I photographed the jumbotron when Young came to bat:


It’s such a cool feeling to see a home run listed there and actually have the ball.

By the way, here IS the ball:


The funniest thing that happened all night was the heckling that one fan unleashed on A’s left fielder Brandon Moss. The first thing he screamed was, “BOOOO!!! MOSS DOESN’T LIKE MILK!!! HE’S LACTOSE INTOLERANT!!! BOOOO!!!” Of all the heckles I’ve heard over the years, that might be the most randomly hilarious — and the guy wasn’t finished. A minute later, he shouted, “BOOOO!!! MOSS HATES KIDS!!! HE STEALS TOYS OUT OF HAPPY MEALS!!! BOOOO!!!” By this point, the whole section was laughing, but the guy was just getting started. “BOOOO!!!” he shouted yet again. “MOSS OPENS HIS PRESENTS ON CHRISTMAS EVE!!! BOOOO!!! HAVE A LITTLE PATIENCE, MOSS!!!” I can only remember one more thing that this marvelous man shouted: “BOOO!!! MOSS GIVES NICKELS TO THE MARCH OF DIMES!!! BOOOO!!!” It was *so* funny.

The Mets hit a total of four home runs and beat the A’s, 10-1. After the final out, I got my ninth ball from home plate umpire Jerry Layne as he walked off the field. He’s very nice — probably the nicest ump, in my experience. It was the fifth ball I’d ever gotten from him, and on this particular night, he gave away half a dozen to various fans. He actually stopped and emptied his pouches and didn’t seem fazed when he dropped one and had to bend down to pick it up. That was the one he ended up placing into my glove.

Then I shifted over to the dugout and waited for the relievers to walk in from the bullpen:


They didn’t toss anything into the crowd, which is usually the case when a team loses.

Before leaving the section, I handed a baseball to the littlest kid with a glove. Then I found Rick in the concourse and we headed to the 7 train. Here’s a photo I took on the train of Rick holding *his* Chris Young homer (which he’d snagged earlier this season in Philadelphia) next to my Chris Young homer:


Here are the seven balls I kept:


Three of those balls have invisible ink stamps from the Rawlings factory in Costa Rica. Here’s a side-by-side comparison of them in black light versus regular light:


Click here for more info about baseballs and black light.

And that’s, like, it.


• 9 baseballs at this game

• 247 balls in 34 games this season = 7.26 balls per game.

• 1,000 consecutive games with at least one ball

• 675 consecutive games in New York with at least one ball

• 448 consecutive Mets home games with at least one ball

• 112 consecutive games at Citi Field with at least two balls

• 28 game home run balls (not counting the six that have been tossed to me); click here for the complete list.

• 7,423 total balls


(I’m raising money again this season for Pitch In For Baseball, a non-profit charity that provides baseball equipment to underprivileged kids all over the world. Click here to learn about my fundraiser, and if you donate money, you’ll be eligible to win one of these prizes.)

• 20 donors for my fundraiser

• $1.62 pledged per ball (if you add up all the pledges)

• $14.58 raised at this game

• $400.14 raised this season

• $39,064.14 raised since I started my fundraiser in 2009

6/12/14 at Citi Field

Have you ever heard of a three-minute rain delay? It happened in the 11th inning at Citi Field on Thursday night. When it started pouring, the players were waved off the field by home plate umpire Angel Hernandez, who never gets anything right, it seems. A minute later, several groundskeepers walked out and huddled with the umps in foul territory behind 3rd base. Check it out:

three_minute_rain_delay copy

The groundskeepers told the umps that it wasn’t going to rain much longer, so the players were then waved back onto the field. The game resumed while it was still raining hard, but sure enough, within a few minutes, the precipitation tapered off.

In the top of the 13th inning, the Brewers batted around and took a 5-1 lead. In the middle of the 13th inning, Brewers left fielder Khris Davis threw me his warm-up ball, which was my 4th ball of the day. After the game, I worked my way to the Brewers’ dugout, where I got a toss-up from coach Mike Guerrero, and then, moments later, I got this:

lineup_card_06_12_14 copy

Gorgeous! (Right?) Here’s a better look at it, and here’s my entire collection of lineup cards.

By the way, my first ball of the day was my 200th of the season, and it was a weird one. As the Brewers started taking BP, I was heading from the left-field foul line to straight-away left field when I heard a ball land in the seats near the foul pole. I was the only fan near it, so when the guards in the concourse saw me looking around aimlessly, they tried directing me toward it. It didn’t really help, but thankfully my friend Ben Weil had a perfect view of it from the 2nd deck. Evidently the ball had been thrown by someone on the Brewers (a left-handed white guy) and landed in the last row. By the time Ben definitively pointed it out, it had rolled down to the front row. See what I mean? Weird!

A little while later, I caught a Ryan Braun homer on the fly, and toward the end of BP, I got a toss-up from coach Ed Sedar.

Finally, since it’s been a while, here are some numbers for you . . .


• 5 baseballs at this game

• 204 balls in 29 games this season = 7.03 balls per game.

• 11 consecutive seasons with 200 or more balls

• 995 consecutive games with at least one ball

• 670 consecutive games in New York with at least one ball

• 447 consecutive Mets home games with at least one ball

• 111 consecutive games at Citi Field with at least two balls

• 7,380 total balls


(I’m raising money again this season for Pitch In For Baseball, a non-profit charity that provides baseball equipment to underprivileged kids all over the world. Click here to learn about my fundraiser, and if you donate money, you’ll be eligible to win one of these prizes.)

• 20 donors for my fundraiser

• $1.62 pledged per ball (if you add up all the pledges)

• $8.10 raised at this game

• $330.48 raised this season

• $38,994.48 raised since I started my fundraiser in 2009

5/27/14 at Citi Field

A funny thing happened after the Mets game last night. As I made my way through the concourse behind the visitors’ dugout, I heard someone yelling “Hey!!” from behind, and when I turned around, I saw a 6-foot-5 police officer walking toward me.

“Uh . . . hey,” I said as he approached.

“You’re the guy who catches all the baseballs, right?”

“Ha! Yeah, that’s me.”

“I knew it! I’ve seen all your videos — you caught a ball dropped from a helicopter.”

“Wow, you really *have* seen a lot of my stuff.”

“Hey, would you mind if I get a quick photo with you?”

“I don’t mind at all, but even if I did, there’s no way I’d say no to a police officer.”

This was the result . . .


. . . and yes, I got permission to post that photo on the internet.

A minute later, the cop asked if I get recognized often at games. I wanted him to feel special, so I was like, “Well, you know, it happens from time to time,” prompting my friend Ben Weil (who was standing nearby) to shout, “YES!! ALL THE TIME!! IT HAPPENS **ALL** THE TIME!!”

Ahh, Benny.

The other cop asked to pose with me for a photo, and we all chatted for a bit.

It was already past 11pm at that point — not because of a rain delay or extra innings. It was late because the Mets and Pirates took 3 hours and 43 minutes to play a nine-inning game with a modest total of six runs.

That’s awful.

Major League Baseball — especially at Citi Field where nothing interesting ever seems to happen — is becoming borderline interminable, and the new commissioner better do something about it. There’s no need to limit the number of pickoff throws or speed up intentional walks or shorten commercial breaks. (You want your advertising money? Fine. Take it.) There needs to be rule that actually gets enforced that limits the time that pitchers can take between pitches. Same for the hitters. Keep your ass in the batter’s box, stop adjusting your batting gloves, and hit.

Speaking of hitting (or lack thereof), the Mets finished batting practice at 5:15pm, which means that by the time the gates opened at 5:10 and I ran all the way out to the left field seats, there were about about three or four minutes of BP remaining.

During the 20 minutes of virtual dead time that followed, I managed to get a Pedro Alvarez toss-up in foul territory. I ended up getting six more balls before the game, including the 7,000th ball of my consecutive games streak (which began on September 10, 1993). Unfortunately I gave that one to a little kid standing nearby before I realized the personal significance.

Several minutes later, I got falsely accused by a woman of “taking” a ball from her son.

“Oh really,” I said, “exactly which ball did I take from him?”

She didn’t have an answer for that, and after being pressed further, she finally admitted that I hadn’t actually taken one and that her son was just upset because he hadn’t gotten a ball. While I was defending myself against her verbal assault, her son got a ball tossed to him by a groundskeeper — but the woman still didn’t leave me alone and ultimately insulted the way I was brought up. (I was brought up not to take crap from idiots. Thanks.)

Finally, adding to the randomness of this blog entry, I’d like to point out that (a) my girlfriend, Hayley, was with me and was understandably bored to death and (b) this would’ve been my Grandma Helen‘s 117th birthday and I miss her.

5/17/14 at Citizens Bank Park

I attended this game for two reasons:

1) I was visiting family 25 miles away in Ambler, Pennsylvania.
2) My mom was with me and wanted to go.

And look, here she is in the right field seats:


Before I complain about how lame batting practice was, I need to complain about how stressful it was to even get to the stadium in the first place. Basically, we didn’t wrap things up with the fam until about 4pm, at which point I told my mom that we should forget the game and just head back home to New York. I had all my stuff with me for the game, but we hadn’t bought tickets, so it really wouldn’t have been much of a loss to bail. Also, Google Maps was telling me that the drive was going to take 45 minutes, which meant we were gonna have 20 minutes to park, buy tickets, and get on line at the gates — insanity, right? Well, my mom convinced me to go for it. We arrived at 4:48pm, and while she parked, I ran ahead and bought myself a $20 ticket (which was the cheapest available) and then rushed off to the nearest gate. My mom then took her time and found the ticket office and eventually caught up with me in right field.

By that point, I’d snagged one baseball — a toss-up from A.J. Burnett in left-center field. Meanwhile, everything else went wrong. I had missed a ball or two when the gates first opened because I wasn’t the first one to race out to the left field seats. Then I managed to maneuver myself out of position twice . . . as in, I was in a perfectly good spot, but decided that it wasn’t good enough, and as soon as I moved, batters ended up hitting home runs to the exact spots where I had been. Then, over in right field, there were hardly any home runs. (Ryan Howard, by the way, is about as useful in BP as Ruben Tejada.)

Here’s what it looked like in left-center when the Reds were hitting:

A little while later, I tracked two home runs perfectly, picking the exact spots where they were going to land and climbing up steps and over seats to get there. And both times, other fans reached up and caught/deflected these balls at the last second. Then I had a perfect opportunity to use my glove trick for a ball that rolled to the wall nearby . . .


. . . but a coach ran over and grabbed it, moments before I was about to unleash my magic.

There are days when everything seems to go right and I end up with 15 or 20 balls. This was the opposite. Yeah, the toss-up from Burnett was nice, as was the homer I caught at the end of BP in left field that would’ve drilled my mom, but overall it was a pathetic and unlucky afternoon.

I wandered for a bit after that and caught up with my mom, who had grabbed a spot in the last row behind the Reds’ dugout:


Before the national anthem, I snagged EVERY ball that the Reds used during pre-game throwing. That is . . . zero.

Nice day, huh?

Actually, is *was* a nice day because I was with my mom. This was our view during the 1st inning:


(Yes, that’s a TV monitor dangling off the overhang.)

In the 2nd inning, we moved a bit closer and took a selfie:


As you can see, I was wearing my Reds gear, but it didn’t help.

Here’s something that made me smile — take a look at the photo and then I’ll explain what I’m talking about:


That’s Billy Hamilton, who always makes me smile, but more specifically, I liked the fact that he had FOUR batting gloves. What’s the deal — two for hitting and two for running/sliding?

In the 3rd inning, my mom and I moved even closer to the field . . .


. . . and in the 4th inning, we left:


When we got back to New York, I learned that the Phillies had won, 12-1, and that Cole Hamels won his 100th career game. I was glad to have missed it. I used to like him, but ever since he intentionally plunked Bryce Harper in 2012, I have lost all respect for him.


• 2 baseballs at this game

• 122 balls in 18 games this season = 6.78 balls per game.

• 308 balls in 34 lifetime games at Citizens Bank Park = 9.06 balls per game.

• 984 consecutive games with at least one ball

• 7,298 total balls


(I’m raising money again this season for Pitch In For Baseball, a non-profit charity that provides baseball equipment to underprivileged kids all over the world. Click here to learn about my fundraiser, and if you donate money, you’ll be eligible to win one of these prizes.)

• 19 donors for my fundraiser

• $1.47 pledged per ball (if you add up all the pledges)

• $2.94 raised at this game

• $179.34 raised this season

• $38,843.34 raised since I started my fundraiser in 2009

“You’re over baseball?”

Earlier today, I received the following email from my friend Brandon:


First of all, what’s the deal with sending an email with no subject? That’s super-annoying. But okay, fine . . . you want to know what I’ve been up to lately? Last week the Mets and Yankees were both on the road, so there weren’t any games in New York City. This week they’ve been playing each other, and I want no part of it. I was planning to go to Philadelphia on Tuesday to see my new BFF Mike Trout — until I heard that 8,000 folks from his hometown in Millville, New Jersey, were also planning to make the trip. I was also been planning to go to Yankee Stadium tomorrow, but the weather’s gonna be miserable, so to hell with it.

As for the bigger picture, I’ve been to 17 games this season, which puts me on pace to attend about 70, so no, I’m not “over baseball.” That said, I’ve only blogged about five of the games I’ve been to — all my games outside of New York plus one brief entry about a cool moment with Heath Bell at Yankee Stadium.

You see, I’ve decided to stop blogging about games in New York because (a) blogging is a pain in the ass, and (b) Yankee Stadium and Citi Field are terrible for ballhawking. They’re my two least favorite venues in the major leagues. I don’t have much fun there, so when I get home from games, the last thing I want to do is relive the experience by writing about it. Kinda sad, huh?

Meanwhile, it just so happens that I haven’t been traveling much because I’ve already been to every current stadium multiple times; it’s hard to justify taking an entire day off from work to go and snag a bunch of BP balls. Camden Yards used to be a place where I’d average 10 balls per game, but now it’s crowded and competitive. Citizens Bank Park was also a venue where I routinely put up double digits, but now the gates are opening half an hour later. Nationals Park is great, but it takes four hours to drive there. Fenway Park is cramped and expensive. At this point, I’ll probably only travel to another city if there’s a damn good reason, such as (a) trying to snag a particular commemorative ball, (b) trying to catch a milestone home run, (c) catching up with a player that I know, (d) being filmed by the media, or (e) being with my girlfriend if she’s ever free and wants to join me.

So there you have it. I still love baseball as much as ever, and I actually have something big in the works to help me enjoy it even more . . .

5/2/14 at Yankee Stadium

This will be brief. I want to share a quick story from yesterday’s Yankee game (as well as a photo that’s guaranteed to make you cringe) . . .

When the Rays first took the field for BP, I got Heath Bell’s attention near the 3rd base dugout.

heath_bell_2014“Where are you going to be after BP?” he asked me.

“Out in left field near the bullpen,” I told him.

“Meet me here,” he said, pointing to the seats in foul territory.

“I can’t. Security won’t let me down here after 5:45pm. Why, what’s up?”

“I have a ball for you,” he replied.

Fast-forward 20 minutes. I saw Heath jogging out toward me in straight-away left field, so I hurried down to meet him in the front row. Before he reached the warning track, he pulled a ball out of his back pocket and tossed it to me. Some teenaged kid on my right tried to reach in front of me and snatch it, so I lunged *far* forward and outreached him. (Phew!) Several minutes later, when there was a quick break in the action, I photographed the ball:


How cool is that? And would you believe this wasn’t the first Opening Day ball that Heath has given me? Check out my blog entry from 8/31/08 at PETCO Park to read about the other time it happened.

Anyway, the ball he gave me at Yankee Stadium was one of 11 that I snagged on the day, bringing my season total to 109. This is the 17th consecutive season in which I’ve snagged 100 or more balls — but enough about that. I just want to share one more photo from this game, and I suppose I should warn you that it’s not pretty. Here goes:


Nice, huh?

The fan (not pictured above) who threw up was VERY drunk. Was he ejected from the stadium? No, of course not, but hey, whatever. No big deal. Yankee Stadium security has its priorities.

The game itself was one of the best I’ve ever attended, puke notwithstanding. It lasted 14 innings, the Rays won, 10-5, and Heath got the win in relief — can’t ask for much more than that.


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 314 other followers