Big League WIFFLE Ball News

It has been a phenomenal year.

After spending nearly one year in Iraq, stepping off the plane from Kuwait and onto the snow-crusted tarmac in Wisconsin was surreal. I have never been so thankful to live in the United States.

I think all Americans have an understanding that we are truly lucky or blessed to have been born in this country with all of its priceless freedoms. To travel to a distant location and experience a place that is foreign to America in nearly every way cements that sensation in you.

Thanks are in order for all of you in the Big League Wiffle Ball community who supported and are supporting the Midwest contingent. I appreciated the letters from the Connecticut school kids that Nick Benas set up. Our favorite letter received from an elementary school kid read: “Dear Soldier: Don’t Die. I love you.” We all thought that was really funny and kept saying it to one another as we went on missions or just killed time on the FOB (Forward Operating Base).

As Nick Benas introduced Wiffle Ball to the Iraqis during his tour with the Marine Corps, Cory Newmann and I have tried to carry on his legacy. I hoped that at some point we could’ve snapped a photo under the crossed sabers in Baghdad with wiffle bats, but that opportunity never presented itself. In fact, the only time I even saw the crossed sabers were when we were flying down the streets in our MRAPs (Mine Resistant Ambush Protected) vehicles, trying to get back to our base while roadside bombs and small arms fire were lighting up the streets of Baghdad. Our motto that night was “Drive Fast, Take Chances.”

We did get some chances to play wiffle ball on Camp Liberty. With makeshift fields carved into the sand and gravel, water bottles made up field lines. Packing the strike zone and balls and bats was worth it. It will always be a memory that I could never have imagined in all my life. Newmann coming down to Baghdad and sneaking in a wiffle ball game or two among the palm trees, not far from where Paul R. Smith earned the Medal of Honor fighting off a company-sized (approximately 100 man) attack with a .50 caliber machine gun. Insane.

Another thanks are in order to DOOM who sent me some autographed wiffle balls while I was over there. I appreciate the hell out of that–couldn’t believe it when I tore the package open after mail call.

Well, you’re probably sick of listening to me jaw-jack so I’ll hang it up. I just wanted to let everyone know that I appreciate their support. Please remember Cory as he still has a couple more months in the sandbox. Hopefully he’ll get out of there before the summer heat hits 120 so we can bring some more Big League Wiffle Ball to the Midwest.

I can’t wait to set up the wiffle fields in the Midwestern summer sun, have everyone come out, and listen to the crack of the plastic. What is more American than that?

Ben Biddick, BLWB Midwest Manager

As fate would have it, the Midwest Managers of Big League Wiffle Ball were able to link up in Baghdad for some wiffle ball. The sandstorms relented during their window of opportunity and out came the yellow bat and wiffle strike zone.

Midwest Managers Cory Newmann and Ben Biddick

While Cory Newmann warmed up his pitching arm, his teammates built the field and worked in some batting practice. The intense heat of the afternoon had cooled into the low 100′s. Cory Newmann, Kevin David, Eric “The Tank” Frank, and Nathan Van Gheem were going against Ben Biddick, Tim Connolley, and Krystal Gotz.

The batters box was carved in gravel overshadowed by the shade of a pair of palm trees. The singles and doubles lines were marked off by bottled water. The homerun line consisted of massive blast walls. They loomed at the end of the field like a tan version of Fenway’s green monster.

Ben Biddick began his pitching assault. After some solid introductory innings, the hitting prowess of Cory Newmann’s team began taking advantage of small mistakes. Some waning control produced some serious homeruns including one by Cory Newmann (which is the longest recorded homerun on the Baghdad field to date). Kevin David added one to the scoreboard, and Nathan Van Gheem had a solid performance.

After three outs, Cory Newmann took his place at the pitcher’s line and began working his game. Tim Connolley generated a pair of homeruns, sending in runners put on base by Krystal Gotz. Biddick popped a pair of triples to contribute to a lead that they hoped would hold out through the bottom of the final inning.

The teams continued to battle in the fading light of day. Frank “The Tank” stepped to the plate with two outs in the bottom of the final inning. They were down by two runs, and the bases were loaded. It was all on his shoulders. Biddick hoped he could sneak in a riser under the cover of darkness. The sun had already gone down, and it was becoming difficult to see the ball. He was one strike away from victory.

Biddick unleashed the pitch. Frank “The Tank” committed. He swung the bat and crushed the ball. The tiny white comet landed somewhere beyond the blast walls, and the game was over. Grand slam.

The following night, Biddick, Connolley, and Gotz were looking the avenge their loss. Connolley, who had been working on his pitching, warmed up his arm. Newmann, Van Gheem, and The Tank worked in some batting practice. Kevin David was on administrative leave due to a contract dispute.

Tim Connolley warms up his arm while Cory Newmann gets some batting practice.

For the first innings, Connolley dominated the strike zone. Van Gheem fought through the onslaught and managed to smack a triple. Connolley quickly shut down a short scoring run after two runs.

Cory Newmann began working his knuckle ball with solid results, but Biddick, Connolley, and Gotz managed a two run lead by the time they entered the final inning.

After a series of base hits, the inning closed with Connolley, Biddick, and Gotz facing a one run deficit. The memory of the prior evening’s loss still raw in their minds, Biddick leaned in and cracked a base hit. Gotz gave the strike zone a tap as she entered the batter’s box and got to work. After a series of foul balls, Gotz sent one down the right field line for a double. Connolley stepped to the plate and readied himself for the pitch.

Connolley swung. The crack of the plastic shattered the hopes of their opponents as the wiffle ball ricocheted off the blast walls for a triple, scoring two runs. The hit claimed victory in the second and final game of the two night series.

A show of sportsmanship followed as they shook hands and broke down the field. MRAPs and  Humvees growled as they drove by. They were heading out on missions that put the final American touches on a liberation of Iraq from tyrannical rule.

American friendships begun decades ago never foresaw that they would find a pocket of time to play their favorite game in this foreign land. A country that during those same decades languished under a tyrannical rule, now hastens toward stability and a future of asserting its collective, national will on the international stage. They are a resilient people struggling to unite internal sworn enemies from multiple ethnic, cultural, geographical, socio-economic, and religious backgrounds. Under internal and international pressures, they face the agony of countless wounds and immeasurable losses. They face tyrannical insurgents hoping to undermine and intimidate Iraqi gains with crowd-killing car bombs. They face neighboring nations who seek to exploit their weaknesses and vulnerabilities. They face danger on every side, a danger that burns away in the brilliant light of freedom, in the sweet breath that oxygenates a collective identity, and the glory of possessing the right to exist as a sovereign nation.

As the soldiers walk back to their housing units, their footsteps crunch through gravel where their fellow soldiers once sweat, bled, and died in order to give a gift of liberation to the Iraqi people. The horizon swallows the sun. The stars shimmer above the whirring helicopter blades. They have played an iconic American game and passed a pair of hours in the tenuous, unfolding creation of democracy in the Middle East.

For more by Mack Dreyfuss check out his website at www.themackdreyfusslounge.com

Here’s an update from CPT Cory Newmann, deployed Midwest Manager of Big League Wiffle Ball:

So there I was, knee deep in training at my mobilization station at Camp Atterbury, Indiana, just a few short days away from deploying to Southern Iraq in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. We had recently been issued our equipment, to include body armor, steel toed boots, various forms of eye protection, and a multitude of other gear–enough to fill three Army duffle bags and a large rucksack. Now that we had our equipment, the good idea fairy had landed. All sorts of phenomenally intelligent ideas for new training were being put out. Things like…Hey! Since we have our 2 mile road march (in full battle rattle) tomorrow morning at 0600, let’s ‘practice’ road marching! With humidity so thick it felt like we were walking through tapioca pudding, we ‘practiced’ road marching. By the end of practice, motivation was failing.

CPT Cory Newmann, Midwest Manager and tactical wiffle baller

 
After training was done for the day, I had an opportunity to hop a seat aboard the bus into town. The troops needed a pick me up, something to bring the morale back around. In the Army we call it esprit de corps. I hurried to the local drug store, and picked up two Wiffle Ball sets. I seriously appreciated that the total was under $10, because in the transition from civilian to military life, I was between paychecks.

 
My roommate and I headed out to the field behind our barracks and started a game. In minutes, a crowd formed and Soldiers started to take interest. First to jump in was 1LT Greg Stetzer, quickly tagged with the moniker “The ripper.” I was pitching to Stetzer, and apparently my knuckleball wasn’t moving enough, because he was destroying each one- bouncing them off the roof of the barracks. My roommate, Chief Warrant Officer John Bourdeaux stepped up to the mound and started working his slider to good effect. My knuckleball may have been labeled as ‘weaksauce,’ but I have yet to break out my riser.

 
Several other Soldiers stepped up to the strike zone and displayed their skill with the yellow bat. SGT Aaron Hunnel joined in, and started throwing a ridiculous curveball. The company First Sergeant even came out and hit a few, smiling and talking about how it reminded him of playing stickball as a kid.

 
Chief Bourdeaux said it took him back to his childhood as well, recalling the days of playing home run derby with Wiffle Ball on the tennis courts. More and more people came by the field as we were playing, and Chief Bourdeaux said “that is the beauty of Wiffle Ball, absolutely anyone can play.”

LT Stetzer Reacting to Contact (wiffle, not enemy contact)

We played for about two hours, wrapped up in competition and memories of our youth. People are already asking me about setting up teams and tournaments. We will continue to build our skills here stateside, in preparation for playing in that big, sandlot overseas. Intelligence reports indicate there are Soldiers playing in Baghdad; I already can see the brackets….North versus South…

SGT Hunnel, Wiffle's own Wild Thing, complete with birth control glasses for accurate pitching

Email questions or comments to   mack@bigleaguewiffleball.com

by Mack Dreyfuss

When Big League Wiffle Ball’s Midwest Managers Cpt. Cory Newmann and Sgt. Ben Biddick were deployed to Iraq, they brought the yellow bat with them.

They continue Nick Benas’ legacy of bringing wiffle to the Middle East. While Benas served in Iraq with the Marine Corps in 2004, he attempted to teach Iraqis the game. “The concept of a bat and ball was foreign to them. They preferred soccer. But after a little practice, they started to get the hang of it.”

The Midwest Managers serve in the Wisconsin Army National Guard and are bringing wiffle to their fellow troops stationed at Camp Liberty, near Baghdad.

Cpt. Cory Newmann and Sgt. Ben Biddick linked up with Big League Wiffle Ball creators Nick Benas and Jared Verrillo in 2008. They organized their first tournament in Madison, Wisconsin, before receiving word that they would be deployed to Iraq in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. “Since we were going to be gone for a year, we figured we’d bring Big League Wiffle Ball with us. We love this,” Biddick says. “Nick and Jared were all for it.”

May 19, 2009 was the inaugural Mideast game of Big League Wiffle Ball. Braving heat that exceeded 100 degrees Fahrenheit, twelve troops constructed a field complete with a BLWB official strike zone, water bottles, machine guns, and blast walls. Their First Sergeant walked by, shaking his head and grinning as the first pitches were thrown. Curious soldiers stopped by to see what was going on.

Spc. Michelle Weissinger took an instant shine to the game. By the end of the contest, Weissinger had crushed a two run homer and struck out seven batters. Her opponents and teammates dubbed her “The Natural.” With no prior wiffle experience, she rapidly developed a wicked curve ball that had her opponents wiffing.

“You know what they say,” said Sgt. Frank (the Tank) as he stepped into the batter’s box, drenched in sweat, “If you can’t stand the heat…”

Weissinger commented on the game: “It was intense at first, but I started to get the feel of the ball, the bat, and triangular field. I definitely enjoyed it. They were talking a lot of [trash] out there, so it felt amazing to strike out seven of them. You’ll see me at the next game, no question.”

Her friends talked about using the blast walls to make a “Wall of K’s” for her. The blast walls are in place to prevent against potential mortar and rocket attacks.

“We had a good day today. We sparked some interest, developed some skills, and had some quality competition in our games. This is a great way to enjoy some downtime, get some light exercise, and build some unit cohesion. We’re hoping the word will spread.” Biddick says. “Based on the feedback I’m getting from the troops, it looks like it will.”

Sgt. Charles Austin is also in the unit. He donned his military uniform and presented the colors during the National Anthem (sung by the Wisconsin Children’s Choir) at the first Big League Wiffle Ball Tournament in the Midwest. A lifelong baseball and softball player, his team was voted Most Improved at the Madison, Wisconsin tournament. “Next game I’m in,” he says.

BLWB Midwest Manager Ben Biddick

Sgt Tim Connolley delivers the first pitch to Sgt Frank (the Tank) on opening day of BLWB in Baghdad.

Feel free to email questions and comments to mack@bigleaguewiffleball.com.

We had a great time this past Sunday in NYC at Mickey Mantle’s Restaurant, talking to Kerel Cooper of www.ontheblack.com.

Check out his Met’s blog if you have a chance.

He took some time to interview us over some wings and brews. Make sure you turn up the volume… it was really loud at the restaurant, so it’s a little hard to hear. Fun interview though, and a great restaurant, in spite of the fact that I’m a huge Red Sox fan.

Good time…

We just heard from our BLWB Wisconsin branch.  Our boys Ben and Cory are headed to combat in Iraq right now.  Wish them the best of luck and thank them tremendously for their service.  God Bless you fellas.

Here’s a little article pertaining to wiffle overseas:

As published on thefatherlife.com…

The Crack of the Plastic

When you are embedded in a group of soldiers, you learn a lot about the American identity. This is particularly true if the soldiers are going to war. I listen to these young men and women trade friendly insults, curse in frustration, marvel cynically about instances devoid of common sense, and crack up after a stupid joke levels mounting stress and tension. After spending time with them, the civilian world takes on an entirely new hue. One begins to care intensely about current events, politics, and the shape and direction of foreign policy when watching them care for another as they progress toward palpable danger and the ultimate test. Irrationality and an entitlement attitude is rejected and jettisoned when survival is dependent on your actions and the actions of those around you.

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