"From the batter's box" column

I wanted to do something a little different for our prep baseball player of the year story, so I tried writing a column that started with me trying to get a hit off of the player in question. I got some good responses from it, but I'm curious to see how the board thinks I pulled it off. I did my best to take myself out of it as much as possible and focus on the player. Have at it.

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From the batter's box, John Newsome doesn't look that intimidating.

The Oconee County graduate and former Warriors' ace doesn't cast a large shadow on the mound at Arrowhead Park. Underneath the blue bill of his Oconee County hat, he let a quick smile emerge before digging into the mound.

It wasn't an arrogant smile that said, "I'm going to smoke this sports writer." Instead, it said, "I love being back on this mound."

Once he started to raise his front leg and twist his 5-foot-10 frame, that smile disappeared.

After he uncoiled himself and strode towards the plate, a fastball that came close to breaching 90 mph blasted from his hand.

It was in the catcher's glove before any attempt at a swing could be made. Alright, that was pretty intimidating.

So was the next fastball that blew right past a bat moving way to slow. So was the curveball that looked like it started lost in the dugout and somehow found its way across the plate.

This was the helpless feeling that the hitters in Region 8-AAA felt every time Newsome took the mound this season, watching an innocent-looking pitcher doing dangerous things with a baseball from the worst seat in the ball park.

"I love it. I'd do it everyday," Newsome said. "I work hard. I try to push myself harder than everyone else. I basically went into every game knowing I could win every one."

In a quick, five-minute showdown against Newsome, I watched three third strikes glide safely past my borrowed bat. The four pitches I ruined by glancing them into foul territory only seemed to tick the future East Mississippi pitcher off.

That was when he started glaring into the strike zone and shaking off his catcher's signs. That was when he started taking the session seriously.

"Besides the natural ability he was born with," Oconee County pitching coach Tom Gooch said, "he's a competitor. He's just a bulldog. He doesn't like giving up hits. He doesn't like giving up anything."

His three strikeouts from Friday afternoon are pebbles in the base path of his senior season.

Newsome, the Banner-Herald's baseball player of the year, went 7-1 with three saves in Oconee County's Region 8-AAA championship campaign. He finished the season with a 1.55 ERA and 114 strikeouts.

Opponents batted .178 against him and he gave up just 33 hits and 14 earned runs in 63 1/3 innings of work.

The Warriors' southpaw was practically blessed with a strong left arm. At age 5, he won a fastest pitch contest by throwing the ball 39 mph. His competition, made up solely of 8-year-olds, could barely break 35 mph.

That natural gift found him a spot on the Warriors' roster, where he learned under other talented pitchers like Luke Rogers and Alex Moore. He was able to grow into the physical and mental part of varsity pitching in the Warriors' bullpen.

When it came time to take the spotlight, Newsome did not shy away.

"We talked about that in the offseason," Gooch said. "I told him he had to be the guy this year. He said that he wanted to be that guy."

On top of a region title, Newsome led Oconee County to an appearance in the Class AAA state quarterfinals.

The Warriors lost to South Effingham in two games to end the season and Newsome's high school career. But Newsome hasn't stopped pitching and is facing better competition that sports writers that haven't swung a bat in 10 years.

While he maintains work outs dictated by his coaches at East Mississippi, Newsome is also pitching for the Athens Pirates.

Combined with his work ethic, Gooch is confident that Newsome's natural ability will serve him well in the college game."

"He's a 5-foot-10 fire plug," Gooch said. "He's just a ball of muscle."

Newsome said he loves the level of competition he gets to face with the Pirates and he is early awaiting facing more college-level players.

When asked if making the step from high school to college made him nervous, Newsome responded with a confident, "Not at all."

Anyone who has seen him pitch could attest that his confidence is justified and not youthful bravado. His fastball has turned heads all season.

It is his curveball, however, that he seems to be most proud of.

As we walked off the infield grass at Arrowhead Park Friday afternoon, I complimented him on the pitch that froze me, and dozens of other hitters this year.

Again, with unflinching confidence, he smiled.

"Yeah," he said. "Did that move a little bit?"

 

Ty-

My edits are in all caps, with notes at the end.
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From the batter's box, John Newsome doesn't look that intimidating. (GOOD – INTRODUCES THE CONCEPT. MAYBE DITCH “THAT.”)

The Oconee County graduate and former Warriors' ace doesn't cast a large shadow on the mound at Arrowhead Park. Underneath the blue bill of his Oconee County hat, he let a quick smile emerge before digging into the mound.(YOU JUST SWITCHED FROM PRESENT TO PAST TENSE: “DOESN’T,” “DOESN’T,” AND “LET.” IN THIS CASE, I’D SWITCH “LET” TO “LETS”.)

It wasn't an arrogant smile that said, "I'm going to smoke this sports writer." Instead, it said, "I love being back on this mound." (CAREFUL WITH THE INFERENCE. DID YOU ASK? RATHER HARMLESS IN THIS CASE, BUT IT COULD GET YOU IN TROUBLE SOMETIME.)

Once he started to raise his front leg and twist his 5-foot-10 frame, that smile disappeared.

After he uncoiled himself and strode towards the plate, a fastball that came close to breaching 90 mph blasted from his hand.

It was in the catcher's glove before any attempt at a swing could be made. (BRING THIS UP WITH THE LAST GRAPH, AND MAKE THE TWO SENTENCES ONE. THIS DOES NOT SOUND LIKE A TWO-SENTENCE OR TWO-GRAPH PITCH. WRITE IT FAST, JUST LIKE HOW IT HAPPENED. “... TOWARDS THE PLATE, A FASTBALL THAT CAME CLOSE TO 90 MPH POPPED THE CATCHER’S GLOVE.” THEN BRING IN YOUR DELAYED REACTION.) Alright, that was pretty intimidating. (GOOD.)

So was the next fastball that blew right past a bat moving way to (TOO) slow. So was the curveball that looked like it started lost in the dugout and somehow found its way across the plate.

This was the helpless feeling that the hitters in Region 8-AAA felt every time Newsome took the mound this season, watching an innocent-looking pitcher doing dangerous things with a baseball from the worst seat in the ball park.

"I love it. I'd do it everyday," Newsome said. "I work hard. I try to push myself harder than everyone else. I basically went into every game knowing I could win every one." (ALL TOTALLY CLICHÉ, EXCEPT FOR THE LAST LINE, WHICH YOU SHOULD KEEP.)

In a quick, five-minute (DITCH “QUICK” – WE KNOW FIVE MINUTES) showdown against Newsome, I watched three third (“THREE THIRD” – UNCLEAR. I GET FROM READING LATER THAT YOU STRUCK OUT THREE STRAIGHT TIMES, BUT I DIDN’T GET IT FIRST READ.) strikes glide safely past my borrowed bat. The four pitches I ruined by glancing them into foul territory only seemed to tick the future East Mississippi pitcher off.

That was when he started glaring into the strike zone and shaking off his catcher's signs. That was when he started taking the session seriously.

"Besides the natural ability he was born with," Oconee County pitching coach Tom Gooch said, "he's a competitor. He's just a bulldog. He doesn't like giving up hits. He doesn't like giving up anything."

His three strikeouts from Friday afternoon are pebbles in the base path of his senior season. (THE THREE AGAINST YOU? THEY’RE ACTUALLY LESS THAN THAT. GOOD PHRASE, THOUGH.)

Newsome, the Banner-Herald's baseball player of the year, went 7-1 with three saves in Oconee County's Region 8-AAA championship campaign. He finished the season with a 1.55 ERA and 114 strikeouts. (SOME WOULD COMPLAIN YOU’VE BURIED THE POINT [HIS SEASON] BUT I’VE GOT NO ISSUE WITH IT.)

Opponents batted .178 against him and he gave up just 33 hits and 14 earned runs in 63 1/3 innings of work.

The Warriors' southpaw was practically (DITCH “PRACTICALLY”) blessed with a strong left arm. At age 5, he won a fastest pitch contest by throwing the ball 39 mph. His competition, made up solely of 8-year-olds, could barely break 35 mph. (GOOD.)

That natural gift found him a spot on the Warriors' roster, where he learned under other talented pitchers like Luke Rogers and Alex Moore. He was able to grow into the physical and mental part of varsity pitching in the Warriors' bullpen.

When it came time to take the spotlight, Newsome did not shy away.

"We talked about that in the offseason," Gooch said. "I told him he had to be the guy this year. He said that he wanted to be that guy."

On top of a region title, Newsome led Oconee County to an appearance in the Class AAA state quarterfinals.

The Warriors lost to South Effingham in two games to end the season and Newsome's high school career. But Newsome hasn't stopped pitching and is facing better competition that sports writers that haven't swung a bat in 10 years.

While he maintains work outs dictated by his coaches at East Mississippi, Newsome is also pitching for the Athens Pirates.

Combined with his work ethic, Gooch is confident that Newsome's natural ability will serve him well in the college game."

"He's a 5-foot-10 fire plug," Gooch said. "He's just a ball of muscle."

Newsome said he loves the level of competition he gets to face with the Pirates and he is early (EAGERLY?) awaiting facing more college-level players.

When asked if making the step from high school to college made him nervous, Newsome responded with a confident, "Not at all."

Anyone who has seen him pitch could attest that his confidence is justified and not youthful bravado. His fastball has turned heads all season. (“MINE INCLUDED.”)

It is his curveball, however, that he seems to be most proud of.

As we walked off the infield grass at Arrowhead Park Friday afternoon, I complimented him on the pitch that froze me, and dozens of other hitters this year.

Again, with unflinching confidence, he smiled.

"Yeah," he said. "Did that move a little bit?" (UNCLEAR – WAS HE BEING SARCASTIC, LIKE, “YEAH, IT MOVES A BIT, DOESN’T IT?” THAT’S WHAT I TAKE FROM IT, SO IF THAT’S THE CASE, IT’S OKAY.)


- Good work Ty. We both know this is not an original idea, but it’s the kind of thing that gets stopped at the ed’s desk, probably because it’s not original. (Sort of like, it’s done so much, it’s hardly ever done.) So good work with the concept, and right idea with the total humility and admiration of this kid’s talent.

- For a columnist, this is one of the only times when your own physicality and sporting exploits are within the bounds of good taste. Paint the picture. Is this kid staring down a deskbound, late-40s slob with bad knees? Or a mid-30s gym rat who played college baseball? You were very humble in your column, but you could’ve opened it up and gone totally self-deprecating, just crushed yourself, if you wanted to add some humor.

- Okay, we got some of the effect of actually facing this kid. And we know you were unsuccessful. But other than your line about the curveball, I’m still not sure I know what it’s like. As someone who never played organized ball past 8 or 9, I really DON’T know what a fastball is like from the batter’s box. In a “From the batter’s box” column, that’s what I want. It’s not easy to actually put the reader there, but that’s the job. I got some, but not all, of the experience.

- Finally, a note on construction. You’re about a dozen graphs into the story before you list the kid’s stats. You give them two full graphs to themselves. And a full graph for the 5 years old story. (Which was great.) And then about him and his mentor teammates, and his hopes for college, etc. None of that stuff is bad, but it’s all VERY standard fare for a feature like this. I don’t think you could do this column correctly without that information, but the challenge is to take that stuff (some of it a bit dry) and marry it with your “in the box” experience, which is much more interesting. You showed flashes of that (“The Oconee County graduate…” “This was the helpless feeling that batters…”) but it quickly devolved into two columns: one, a first-person encounter, and another, a run-of-the-mill summer feature.

If you go through, and find that you can’t sneak stats and past accomplishments and future plans into the “From the box” stuff (to be fair, that would be hard to do with smooth transitions) then maybe you tell the story of three pitches intermittently. Strike one: intro the kid, intro yourself, describe the pitch. Then break into some background, quotes, etc. Strike two: put us back in the box, describe the wind-up, his demeanor, etc. Then more background. Strike three: repeat. Then go into his future stuff.

Again, this is a good idea, done well. But if you could have woven the two styles together (like you did at the end) you’d have gotten all the relevant info to the reader in a cool way. Good work though.

Thanks for posting. Hope this helps.

-verbal

 

I think your readers probably enjoyed a column like this. Perhaps this idea has been overdone, but I think I've only seen it once or twice, and I'm fairly certain that your readers probably have never seen it. So to them, this was probably a fresh and new concept. It's certainly better than a glowing column that probably appears year after year, equipped with gushing quotes from teammates and coaches alike.

One question though: what if you belted a home run on the first pitch you saw? Then, after fouling off a few, you drill a line-drive gapper to the wall? And, after that, you crushed another one over the fence...

Let's say this kid just can't get you out; can't put nothing by you.

Do you still write the column?
And if you do, how do you write it?

 

I don't have time right now to do a line-by-line, but I enjoyed the concept, too, and I'd definitely have read the whole thing if this was my local community. Do be careful with the inferences about what smiles, or any other expressions, "say"! It's hard enough to know what your wife's or brother's smile or laugh or frown is actually saying, let alone some pitcher you've spent half an hour with.

 

Some good points here.
One of my pet peeves is "alright." That's not a word. It's always "all right."
Also, I would avoid the phrase "tick off," but if you do use it, keep the two words together.