Swinging and missing
Rebellion pitcher Dallas Escobedo pitches in a game at Consel Energy Park on June 10. Escobedo pitched to Observer-Reporter editor Mike Kovak in the latest O-R Challenge to see if he could hit one of her pitches.
Observer-Reporter editor Mike Kovak tries to hit a pitch by Dallas Escobedo in the latest O-R Challenge. Kovak was not successful.
Albert Pujols, one of the great hitters in baseball’s lengthy history, couldn’t do it.
Neither could former all-star catcher Mike Piazza, or former Pirates slugger Brian Giles, or handfuls of other major-league players who attempted to hit Jennie Finch. The hard-throwing pitcher for the U.S. softball team in the 2004 and 2008 Summer Olympics made baseball players look foolish on a regular basis. They swung wildly, stumbled like uncoordinated toddlers and stood in embarrassment after Finch’s pitches traveled toward them at the equivalent of a 98 mph fastball.
Even Barry Bonds, long lauded for his bat speed, only managed a weakly hit foul ball off Finch.
“I never touched a pitch,” Giles said at the 2004 All-Star Softball Game. “Her fastball was the fastest thing I’ve ever seen from that distance. It rises and cuts at the same time.”
So, what makes hitting a softball so difficult for baseball players?
Well, for starters, distance plays a key factor. Baseball pitches travel to home plate from a distance of about 60 feet. In softball, the pitching rubber is 43 feet away. Trajectory also plays a hand. Softball pitchers use a winding, underhand delivery, which allows pitches to rise and cut in ways baseball pitches can’t.
And don’t forget repetition.
“Major-league players are such talented hitters that, given time and practice, they would be capable of hitting a softball. I’m confident of that,” said Craig Montvidas, first-year coach of National Pro Fastpitch League franchise PA Rebellion, which plays its home games at Consol Energy Park in North Franklin Township. “Just stepping into the box and not knowing what to expect, not having practiced, chances aren’t good.”
So what chance would a person who hasn’t swung a bat in decades have?
“I think you have two chances, actually – none and none at all,” Montvidas said.
Montvidas also serves as head coach for the Netherlands women’s softball team, so he certainly knows the sport well. He came to that conclusion after sizing up a short 40-something who hadn’t taken so much as a swing in a batting cage before arriving at Consol Energy Park on a cool morning to briefly interrupt a practice for the Rebellion, a second-year franchise in softball’s premier professional circuit.
While speaking with Montvidas, I caught pitcher Dallas Escobedo warming up with catcher Mandy Ogle.
The mission? Find some way to make contact against Escobedo, a 6-foot-1 righty who was the first overall selection in the 2014 NPF draft. Escobedo pitched Arizona State to the NCAA championship as a freshman and was once nominated for an ESPY Award for best female college athlete. While at Arizona State, a few brave male athletes attempted to hit her pitching.
“There was a basketball player who fouled one off,” she said.
Much of Escobedo’s rookie season was spent adjusting to a new city, different climate and the rigors of professional sports. She’s clearly getting more comfortable in her second season with the Rebellion, who are 5-11 overall with a 4-5 road record. Escobedo is 1-2 with a 2.73 ERA and 24 strikeouts in 28 innings pitched.
“My fastest pitch is probably my riseball,” said Escobedo, who can throw any of five pitches to opposing batters. “The fastest I’ve thrown is probably 70 miles an hour. I think my senior year in high school, I hit that in the championship game.”
No one was tracking Escobedo’s pitches with a radar gun as I prepared to step into the batter’s box, following some advice from University of Texas product Ogle, but they sure looked fast. Worse yet, they gained elevation heading toward home plate.
With members of the Rebellion standing in foul territory just outside third base and nerves building inside, I prepared myself for the first pitch, which I was determined to take. The pitch quickly rose and flew past me. I didn’t swing. Mission accomplished.
In came another pitch, and I was so behind in my swing, I managed to check it before the bat crossed home plate. A couple pitches in, no swings and misses. My nerves were calming, but Escobedo’s velocity was increasing.
Strike one.
Strike two.
Strike three.
Every swing was woefully late.
I turned to Ogle, “Am I getting closer?”
She smiled, looked at me and said, “Well, you’re trying.”
Being a good sport, Escobedo kept pitching.
Strike four.
Strike five.
Strike six.
Put this former sports writer in the same sentence with Pujols, Piazza and Giles as people unable to hit a professional softball pitcher. At least, Escobedo offered some positive analysis following my failed attempt.
“On the last few, you were timing it up,” she said. “So, I had to step it up a notch.”