- Messages
- 79,281
- Reaction score
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By Ethan J. Skolnick
South Florida Sun-Sentinel
Posted May 23 2006
[FONT=Verdana,Arial, Helvetica]COOPER CITY -- "Nice pitch, Justin! There ya go, baby, there ya go!"
"Matt, Matt, a little sooner, you're swinging late."
"Zach, you bleeding? Ump, he's bleeding out there."
"Atta baby, Skai, atta baby!"
How did you spend your last vacation? How would you spend one if you were a starting NFL tight end with a multimillion-dollar contract? Cruising? Skiing? Gambling? Catching up on sleep before going back to catching passes?
"Hey, Bubba, don't chase that, you're better than that."
"Come on, Nick baby, swing!"
"Good eye, Dredge, good eye, Dredge!"
Randy McMichael spent two of his months off learning and repeating the names of other people's pre-teens.
He spent it wearing a blue jersey with a red No. 81, co-coaching the Cooper City Red Sox -- a rookie-level Little League team that saw its otherwise successful season end in Thursday's semifinal.
He spent vacation sitting on the backside of an empty bucket of balls and standing a few feet from third base. He spent it racing to the infield to slap 11-year-old hands and cup 12-year-old heads between innings, then warming up his pitcher while his catcher got ready. He spent it playing doctor: "If you're hurt, you've got to let me know what it is." He, arguably the Dolphins' most emotional player, spent it getting guys to regroup: "Hey, that's over now! That's over, baby! Let's go! That's over!"
He spent it encouraging, consoling, strategizing, clapping, twisting, leaping and shrieking, letting loose a "Woo!" for the good and "Aahh!" for the bad.
Yet, he also spent it quietly, after making the wrong news the past two offseasons for physical incidents involving his wife, Cawanna, one resulting in 90 days' probation for criminal trespassing.
He spent it having what he characterizes as "the most fun I've ever had."
"I'm having a ball," McMichael said, a week before it ended. "I don't regret a day."
"He's very enthusiastic," Embassy Creek Elementary student Luis Bremswer said.
And to think Jack Moore didn't think McMichael was serious. The Maroone car salesman told his longtime friend last October of his intention to manage a team featuring his grandson Skai. McMichael played baseball as a Georgia kid, but had never coached anything. He told Moore to let him know when the season started.
Sure, Moore thought. Whatever. If he does come, he'll just run around, sneak in some exercise. Instead, McMichael sponsored the team and came to every practice, running them on days Moore was working.
"He's come early, never late," Moore said.
He came with one rule.
[/FONT]"He will not talk football," Moore said. "Only baseball."
Naturally.
"It's all about the boys, the game, the team," said Mike Villegas' mother, Tina.
"He has surpassed any of my imagination of what I thought he would do with the kids," Moore said.
Those kids called it "fun" and "awesome" to have an NFL player as their coach, and not just because they had won 75 percent of their contests. They could also brag to classmates.
"My friends don't really care," Kenny Boyd said.
Well, most were impressed.
Justin Ingram's friends didn't even believe him. One kid at Alex Gambach's school "keeps on blabbing about it to everyone. It gets annoying."
The kids insisted McMichael had helped Moore help them get better. What was learned?
"The fundamentals of baseball," Skai said.
This football player appeared to grasp those, whether telling Zach to watch the bunt or telling "D" (Darwin) to "park the first pitch, because he's gonna give it to you," or telling Kenny "to throw the ball home!"
A week ago Thursday, Cawanna and their son, Isiah, watched McMichael work his magic ... whenever Isiah wasn't scampering to the adjacent field with his rubber bat.
"Isiah!" Cawanna yelled. "C'mere, cheer for the game."
What a game it was. It got so heated that McMichael had to calm Skai down after the Cardinals tied it at 2: "We can't do anything about that. It's just one run. You're all upset about nothing. A lot of ballgame left."
It was 3-2 Red Sox when Luis made a great grab in right, causing Mike Villegas to shout: "That was nice! Holy moly!" Then it was 3-3, Luis on third.
"I had to do something," said McMichael, who espouses the same aggressiveness as a third base coach as in football.
So he whispered "get off, get off, get off" to Luis. The Cardinals held a mound conference. Dolphins security investigator Stu Weinstein, spectating, warned of a trick play.
"I'm smarter than the average bear," McMichael replied.
Kenny broke from first. Luis scored on the throw. Then Kenny got to third. Moore, coaching first, tipped his cap, knowing this was McMichael's chance, having waited all season for a burner to get there. Kenny broke for home before the pitcher received the catcher's throw, and scored, too.
Bubba Beaton wiggled out of a jam in the top of the seventh.
"There you go, Bubba!"
The Red Sox won 5-3.
"It's unbelievable to watch the kids grow," McMichael said. "Kids you didn't expect to step up in the big game, they made the big difference today."
There still was work to do. Find out who left a bicycle. Schedule a practice. Choreograph the team photo.
"Get on a knee, Bubba. Everybody smile."
The happiest kid wore 81.
Ethan J. Skolnick can be reached at eskolnick@sun-sentinel.com.
LINK
South Florida Sun-Sentinel
Posted May 23 2006
[FONT=Verdana,Arial, Helvetica]COOPER CITY -- "Nice pitch, Justin! There ya go, baby, there ya go!"
"Matt, Matt, a little sooner, you're swinging late."
"Zach, you bleeding? Ump, he's bleeding out there."
"Atta baby, Skai, atta baby!"
How did you spend your last vacation? How would you spend one if you were a starting NFL tight end with a multimillion-dollar contract? Cruising? Skiing? Gambling? Catching up on sleep before going back to catching passes?
"Hey, Bubba, don't chase that, you're better than that."
"Come on, Nick baby, swing!"
"Good eye, Dredge, good eye, Dredge!"
Randy McMichael spent two of his months off learning and repeating the names of other people's pre-teens.
He spent it wearing a blue jersey with a red No. 81, co-coaching the Cooper City Red Sox -- a rookie-level Little League team that saw its otherwise successful season end in Thursday's semifinal.
He spent vacation sitting on the backside of an empty bucket of balls and standing a few feet from third base. He spent it racing to the infield to slap 11-year-old hands and cup 12-year-old heads between innings, then warming up his pitcher while his catcher got ready. He spent it playing doctor: "If you're hurt, you've got to let me know what it is." He, arguably the Dolphins' most emotional player, spent it getting guys to regroup: "Hey, that's over now! That's over, baby! Let's go! That's over!"
He spent it encouraging, consoling, strategizing, clapping, twisting, leaping and shrieking, letting loose a "Woo!" for the good and "Aahh!" for the bad.
Yet, he also spent it quietly, after making the wrong news the past two offseasons for physical incidents involving his wife, Cawanna, one resulting in 90 days' probation for criminal trespassing.
He spent it having what he characterizes as "the most fun I've ever had."
"I'm having a ball," McMichael said, a week before it ended. "I don't regret a day."
"He's very enthusiastic," Embassy Creek Elementary student Luis Bremswer said.
And to think Jack Moore didn't think McMichael was serious. The Maroone car salesman told his longtime friend last October of his intention to manage a team featuring his grandson Skai. McMichael played baseball as a Georgia kid, but had never coached anything. He told Moore to let him know when the season started.
Sure, Moore thought. Whatever. If he does come, he'll just run around, sneak in some exercise. Instead, McMichael sponsored the team and came to every practice, running them on days Moore was working.
"He's come early, never late," Moore said.
He came with one rule.
[/FONT]"He will not talk football," Moore said. "Only baseball."
Naturally.
"It's all about the boys, the game, the team," said Mike Villegas' mother, Tina.
"He has surpassed any of my imagination of what I thought he would do with the kids," Moore said.
Those kids called it "fun" and "awesome" to have an NFL player as their coach, and not just because they had won 75 percent of their contests. They could also brag to classmates.
"My friends don't really care," Kenny Boyd said.
Well, most were impressed.
Justin Ingram's friends didn't even believe him. One kid at Alex Gambach's school "keeps on blabbing about it to everyone. It gets annoying."
The kids insisted McMichael had helped Moore help them get better. What was learned?
"The fundamentals of baseball," Skai said.
This football player appeared to grasp those, whether telling Zach to watch the bunt or telling "D" (Darwin) to "park the first pitch, because he's gonna give it to you," or telling Kenny "to throw the ball home!"
A week ago Thursday, Cawanna and their son, Isiah, watched McMichael work his magic ... whenever Isiah wasn't scampering to the adjacent field with his rubber bat.
"Isiah!" Cawanna yelled. "C'mere, cheer for the game."
What a game it was. It got so heated that McMichael had to calm Skai down after the Cardinals tied it at 2: "We can't do anything about that. It's just one run. You're all upset about nothing. A lot of ballgame left."
It was 3-2 Red Sox when Luis made a great grab in right, causing Mike Villegas to shout: "That was nice! Holy moly!" Then it was 3-3, Luis on third.
"I had to do something," said McMichael, who espouses the same aggressiveness as a third base coach as in football.
So he whispered "get off, get off, get off" to Luis. The Cardinals held a mound conference. Dolphins security investigator Stu Weinstein, spectating, warned of a trick play.
"I'm smarter than the average bear," McMichael replied.
Kenny broke from first. Luis scored on the throw. Then Kenny got to third. Moore, coaching first, tipped his cap, knowing this was McMichael's chance, having waited all season for a burner to get there. Kenny broke for home before the pitcher received the catcher's throw, and scored, too.
Bubba Beaton wiggled out of a jam in the top of the seventh.
"There you go, Bubba!"
The Red Sox won 5-3.
"It's unbelievable to watch the kids grow," McMichael said. "Kids you didn't expect to step up in the big game, they made the big difference today."
There still was work to do. Find out who left a bicycle. Schedule a practice. Choreograph the team photo.
"Get on a knee, Bubba. Everybody smile."
The happiest kid wore 81.
Ethan J. Skolnick can be reached at eskolnick@sun-sentinel.com.
LINK
