In the morning meetings after breakfast there are two awards that are handed out, the Gold Rope and the Brown Rope. Each is a thick rope noose about the size used to keep a nice yacht tied to the pier. The Gold Rope comes with a nice plaque and it is awarded to the person who did the best in the previous day's games. The Brown Rope is similar to the Gold Rope as it also comes with a plaque. The Brown Rope is awarded to the person who did the worst in the previous day. Not necessarily the worst statistics but the worst blunder or bonehead play. The coaches go through a list of about 20 names that have been nominated for either the gold rope or the brown rope. Obviously no one wants to receive the brown rope.

As the list of campers who were nominated was read off by Camp Director John Stearns, each person stood up while their accomplishments of yesterday were read aloud to the assembled camp. I was shocked when my name was called to stand up and my 4 for 9 during the triple header and my 3 for 3 with "two ropes" was mentioned [for non baseball people, that means hard hit line drives not something to tie something up with. Or a crazy award at a fantasy camp]. My day obviously was not even close to what the winner of the rope did, but I was surprised and elated to even be nominated on my first day ever in Fantasy Camp. This was the highlight of my playing during the week, being recognized for my effort. There were so many highlights during the week but this one was about what I had done on the field and it made me proud.

Surprisingly I can still play

Now out to the field for warm ups and stretching with the trainers. I spied Dwight Gooden talking to Cindy of the fantasy camp staff not far away. I thanked Cindy many times this week as she and Phil Forman are the main reasons that I am even here for fantasy camp. Phil had found my one page website that explained how I was planning to go to every home game in 2015 but not fantasy camp. He then emailed me about how I must go to fantasy camp, how great it was, and his enthusiasm got me thinking about it. Cindy did a google search and found the same site, showing camp coordinator Doug Dickey. He then emailed me about Fantasy Camp and as they say "The rest is history".

After warm ups, everyone headed to their respective fields for game #4. I held back while retrieving my glove, water, and phone. I pulled out my phone (the only day I had it with me while playing) and asked Cindy if she would take a photo of me and Doc if he was willing. Doc was very accommodating and gracious as Cindy took the photo. I returned the favor by taking one of Cindy and Doc with her phone. What a thrill to be standing next to one of my baseball idols. He asked me if I was having fun and I replied "Yes!" like an infatuated schoolgirl. I quickly thanked him and ran off embarrassed to my game. I was hoping to sit down and spend time talking to Doc this week.

Doc Gooden & Kenny Rogers

GAME #4

I was still struggling this morning with my leg after the previous day's triple header. The Gold Rope nomination gave me a bit of incentive and pride to soldier on and play the best I could for my team. With a few compliments on my left field play, I really felt I belonged here as an old man player, not just an old man fan. That totally changed my perspective in the games and I found myself being more of a team cheerleader, encouraging my teammates. I was playing with a great group of guys and we were all struggling after yesterday, it only made us want to win more.

By this time I was so into the experience of playing ball again after five years of retirement from softball (40 years from hardball) that I really lost track of how I was doing. The staff kept score of every game and posted the stats every morning at the end of the lockers. I went with that. Some games I don't even remember the score but knew our team errors kept us from competing in the race for the Championship game. I have written down in my notes that in our loss in game #4 I had a single, a ground out to short, and hit into an "around the horn double play" that years from now it will be told that it was a clean scoop of a line drive by the third baseman, who fired to second where the sliding runner was barely eluded as the second baseman turned the ball quickly, firing a strike to first and getting me by a half step. Yeah, that's how I will describe it to my grandchildren. But the truth be known it was a worm killing 12 hopper on the grass and even with a detour of the ball thrown to second, I was out by about a car length. In four games I had 5 hits in 12 at bats, and even though my quad was really hampering me, my success had exceeded my expectations at the beginning of camp.

Having a great time in the batter's box

Lunch

At another fabulous lunch I caught the eye of current Mets third base coach and 1986 World Champion Tim Tuffel. I went over and sat by him, telling him he was like a reality star at my house because he was always on my TV every night. I explained the short version of my "California fan moving to New York and going to every home game" story. His reply - "Boy, you are dedicated!" which I kinda interpreted as "This guy is crazy". He asked me my name and I told him Dave Rowe but everyone calls me "Skid". He laughed and repeated "Skid Rowe, now that's a nickname". Every time I saw him in camp he would say "Skid Rowe!" with a chuckle. Hopefully he remembers me at one of the games at Citi.

Greg, Skid & Phil in the locker room.

GAME #5

Game #5 in the afternoon was not good to the team either. Now a couple days later the details escape me but I think it was our worse loss. We just made too many errors in the field and our lack of any running speed except for shortstop Joe King kept us from getting a few more hits in the infield and avoiding double plays. I was really having a tough time out there this game, my gas tank was starting to reach empty and I needed a rest. But I have all year to rest so I told myself to suck it up and continue on. After getting 3 hits yesterday without wearing my protective cup I decided to forgo wearing it again. The ace bandage wrapped on my quad from the previous day had left a bleeding rash on my inner thigh. My uniform pants ended up with an attractive brownish blood stain on my thigh that was high enough to look like I had crapped my pants. Nice. I hope the video guys caught that.

Trying to keep my eye on the ball

Meeting Dwight Gooden

One of the things that I was looking forward to in the weeks before camp was getting a chance to meet one of my favorite players from the 1980's, Dwight "Doc" Gooden. I was so looking forward to 5 minutes of his time that I was afraid I might literally cry. Getting my picture with him earlier in the day after warm ups, that gave me a little confidence to seek him out again. I had brought my copy of his book, some baseball cards, and a B&W drawing from an old Beckett's price guide. I had a similar one signed by Darryl Strawberry. I saw Doc walking through the clubhouse after the afternoon games and he went and sat on the couch in the clubhouse manager's office. I grabbed my cards and book, stood in the doorway and asked if he had time to sign his book. He said "Sure" and waved me into the office to sit down next to him. He borrowed a ball point pin to sign the book. I told him of a game we were at in San Francisco, Candlestick Park in 1985 when he pitched. We had brought a large blue sheet on which we spray painted "SWEET 16" for Doc's uniform number. He looked at me and said "There was a Giants backup catcher, um , ..Alex Trevino who took me deep that day." Later I looked it up and of course he was correct. Doc won that day despite the HR. Later in the year saw him get beat going for his 21st victory again playing at the 'Stick. Those day's the Mets would come through SF twice a year and we would try to make it to each game.

So, I'm sitting on the couch just inches from the soft spoken gentleman and I pull out two baseball cards and ask if would sign them. I didn't know how much stuff he would sign and figured I was safe with a book and two cards. I did not show him the Beckett's print as I imagined I had taken more than my allotted time and excused myself. He thanked me for sitting with him and we shook hands, I had to tell him I loved him. Doc and Darryl were such a big part of my 1980's Mets fandom, my life at times paralleled the stories that came out in the press about them. Divorce, alcohol, and drugs. Luckily for me no brushes with the law but it was only by God's grace that that did not happen. I looked at my life and at theirs and the distance between fan and player was thin in a world that leads to trouble. Whether a ballplayer or a meter reader. Luckily we have put those years behind us.

Kangaroo Court

This was a night I was really looking forward to as I had heard good things about Kangaroo Court. If you don't know, Kangaroo Court is when a player resides as Judge, fining people money for goof offs, mistakes, mental lapses, or just for good measure. Court was held at the PGA country club where we had our welcome dinner on Sunday night. Before the judicial proceedings began current Mets reliever Bobby Parnell spoke and took questions from the campers. He stated that he is healthy from his surgery last April and ready to go this season when cleared by the club.

Then we were honored with the Mets manager Terry Collins coming in and talking to us for a while about his optimism for the 2015 Mets. He says it is time to win in 2015 to the applause of the gathered fans. He took questions and I asked him if he thought instant replay should be taken out of the manager's hands and into a review booth like the NFL and NHL. He praised the Mets replay team for their ability to review plays quickly and get a decision back to the dugout. He stated there were enough delays in the pace of the game now and excessive reviews were not going to help the game. I thought it was a good answer to a quickly thought question. He answered quite a few more then left since it was his anniversary and didn't want to be in trouble with the Mrs.

Mets manager Terry Collins addresses the court

Presiding over the court tonight was Supreme Court Justices Roberts, the Honorable Judge Robert Douglas Flynn and the Honorable Judge Robert Paul Wine [Their real names!]. As they approached the bench in their robes and white curly wigs I could not help but laugh at what was about to happen. Little did I know. Justice Wine kept hammering his gavel for quiet and the proceedings commenced. First up was photographic evidence of guys walking out of the women's restroom. Guilty as charged - $20 fine! The collected proceeds were going to the NYPD Widows & Orphans Fund, a great cause. Next were fines for too many guys in the hot and cold tubs in the trainer's room. The photo evidence of about fifteen guys in three tubs was enough to get some fine money donated without names being mentioned.

Then Judge Robert Wine announced that there were celebrities in the audience ... "Mr. Kenny Rogers! Stand Up!" ... Oh my gosh, I rose slowly and sheepishly to the whole room singing the lyrics to "The Gambler". After the serenade, Judge Wine spoke "You've sold 100 million albums, $20 fine!". Coach/player Eric Hillman brought over the money pitcher to collect the fine and I dropped in a $100 stating to the court that I had no change. Others were fined for everything from mispronouncing Mackey Sasser's name, being mistaken for a leprechaun, looking like the Monopoly guy, and even out running your own pinch runner to first base and both of them being out. It was a lot of laughs. Between raffle tickets for memorabilia and kangaroo court fines, $6,822 was collected for a good cause.

Kenny laughing in court

Chief Justice Bobby Wine