About Me

What can I say? Here’s a shot at it, at any rate. . .

Yours truly is el presidente y peón of Sabaku, Inc., a marketing services company that provides writing, editing, research, analysis and consulting for a diverse assortment of clientèle. The loves of my life are split into two seasons: fall/winter is for completing my degree in Japanese language, while spring/summer is spent joyfully immersed in the sights, sounds and smells of minor league baseball.

An aging jock who swears by the modern miracle of NSAIDs, I prefer my sports served in the raw over the canned TiVo’d product. What got me started in the bush leagues was Bob Nelson suggesting we drive down from Seattle to watch the Tacoma Tigers in 1994, because frankly, few experiences are as dismal as baseball played inside a concrete-domed football stadium.

After a cross-desert move and one-year hiatus from summer sports, I returned to my true love in 1998. I have been a season ticketholder with the Salt Lake Triple-A franchise (Twins, Angels) ever since.

From my bush-league vantage point, I’ve watched an endless parade of future big leaguers, up-close and personal. I remember a corner infielder named Tom Quinlan, of the Twins organization, who had an annoying habit of hitting in the clutch against the Rainiers. Years later I found it curiously amusing to be cheering for his little brother Robb, as a Stinger.

I still have my cherished Rhubarb drink cup, the giveaway from an evening in which a skinny prospect named Derek Lowe pitched a shut-out for the Rainiers. Later that season Lowe was traded to Boston, packaged with a light-hitting catcher named Vari, . . .something or other. I smile whenever I think of A.J. Pierzynski, a 22-years-young catcher overflowing with talent and, uh, “charm.” I still wonder what Big Papi did to make Tom Kelly so mad he kept the kid locked away in the desert bushes for nearly two seasons, and note he was one of the nicest athletes I’d ever met. I recall four seasons of dazzling defensive play and no-holds-barred passion for the game from Alfredo Amazin-ga, at shortstop. For me, 2008 will always be the Summer of Cinderellas—Shane Loux and Nick Adenhart. And I wept for a week straight, starting one morning, April 9th, 2009.

Despite my steadfast devotion to the Farm System of organized baseball, I must admit to a moment of spiritual weakness—when I paid for a one-night stand on October 2, 1995—and watched Randy Johnson pitch six innings of perfection in a three-hit, nine-inning masterpiece otherwise known as the ALDS tiebreaker between the Mariners and Angels. It was then I first noticed a talented rookie with wheels playing left field for the Halos, Garrett Anderson. BTW, the hearing in my right ear has never quite recovered.

My most recent claim to fame is as special consultant for the newly released book How to Make Pro Baseball Scouts Notice You by Al Goldis and John Wolff. Other works include articles for eFieldhouse, a social networking site for professional athletes, and a Jamesian-inspired, albeit unorthodox, analysis of “Moneyball” at Ben’s Biz Blog.

I hope you enjoy visiting as much as I enjoy creating. I remain, . . .your friend in baseball.