In games, quiet calm rules staff

By SCOTT PURKS
Published March 22, 2005

TAMPA - Finger to goatee. Nose. Cap. Cheek. Ear. Goatee. Knee.

Spit.

"Haven't called one right yet," mumbled Bloomingdale assistant David Reed, rubbing his goatee as catcher Joe Castellanos signaled to Doug Kemper, who reared back and threw.

"Strike three!"

Reed and assistants Nick Cafaro and Jim Masson didn't budge from their chairs; too consumed with mumbling to each other.

Behind them, the real spitting began.

Sunflower shells flew from 15 teenaged mouths like a swarm of lovebugs.

Crack. Pflew. Pflew. Crack. Pflew.

Three or four kids, the way the shells stuck to their braces, looked like they were eating lovebugs.

Then suddenly it was time to hit and everybody was up and yelling. And spitting.

Everyone, that is, except Reed, Cafaro, Masson and head coach K.B. Scull. Reed and Cafaro stuck to the chairs. Scull and Masson coached at third and first base respectively. No one spoke.

It was the sixth inning. Scull flashed signals. Chest. Cap. Pants. Chest. Arm.

The kids? "C'mon big Paul McClay! C'mon buddy! C'mon big man!"

And ... Bang!

A baseball launched above Tampa's skyline off McClay's bat, back, back, back to the fence. McClay rounded second and pulled up.

Kids screamed and jumped spilled hundreds of sunflower seeds.

Scull clapped, said nothing. Reed, Cafaro and Masson mumbled. Scull sent signals to the next batter.

McClay reached third on a balk.

One out later, Scull signaled to the hitter who, as McClay raced home, laid a bunt down the third-base line. McClay scored.

Suicide squeeze.

Bloomingdale led 4-3 and the kids screamed and jumped on McClay.

Reed told Scull, "Good call." Scull nodded, said nothing.

In the end, Bloomingdale added three more in the seventh and held on for a 7-3 victory.

Scull, who said about 15 words the entire game, finally spoke afterward.

"I don't say much," he said, "because I'm concentrating on what needs to be done. The coaches pretty much do all the talking to the kids during the week anyway. I feel like when it's game time it's the kids' time to play.

"What are you really going to teach them in the heat of the moment? A game is a learning experience in itself for the kids. A chance for them to get fired up and get after it.

"I have all the confidence that (my coaches) know what they're doing and come game time they are on the same page with the kids."

Scull said his "much experienced" staff - Reed caught at Florida, Cafaro pitched for Florida State - is talking more during practices this season because there are only three seniors on the roster and, as on Monday, the Bulls start as many as seven sophomores.

"But I'm not going to say we're inexperienced and that's why we're making mistakes (five errors on Monday)," Scull said. "I'm not going to keep saying that because I don't want them to get the idea that, because they're inexperienced, it's okay to make mistakes. It's just not.

"That's something I'm making clear to them."

But not during the game.

Got that?

[Last modified March 22, 2005, 17:21:11]