Cousin playing with the big kids

By Scott Deininger
SPECIAL TO THE HERALD NEWS

It seems like just yesterday that he stood barely 5 feet off the ground, tall for his age and lanky.

He could hit and throw the ball with the best of them in Joliet. Then in the region. Then in the state. Then the country. Then the world. And now, in the professional ranks.

I recently saw my cousin, Todd Deininger, a JT Central graduate, play minor-league baseball for the Chicago White Sox Single A Affiliate, the Kannapolis Intimidators of Kannapolis, N.C.

The lanky frame has turned into a 6-foot-3, 220-pound flame-throwing machine, sometimes reaching as high as 97 mph. He now towers over me at the ripe age of 21.

It seems like just yesterday that the four of us Deininger boys: Todd and his older brother Chad, myself and my younger brother Brian, went across the street of their Campbell Street home to play ball. The lot was small and always vacant. It sat just adjacent and behind the fire station. Often we thought Todd, the youngest of us four, wouldn't be safe playing with the bigger kids.

"Maybe you should just sit and watch," I remember saying to Todd years ago.

Now I'm doing the watching while he plays alongside some really big kids, in size, signing bonuses and talent.

I was hoping to see Todd pitch during the few days I was in town. As my luck had it, Todd pitched the day before I arrived, throwing 3 1/2 innings and striking out five.

"I probably won't pitch again this series," he told me.

"That's OK," I said. "And you never know. We'll see what happens."

Toward the end of the second game I saw, a Monday morning tilt on May 19, Todd began warming up in the bullpen. He usually wears number 13, but the guy in the pen wore 31, so I wasn't sure if it was him. The motion looked familiar, though, as did the black glove. (I'm guessing 13 was taken or they simply didn't have it and Todd got the next best thing, a reversal of fortune so to speak.)

I ran to my car to grab my still and video cameras like the proud cousin I was, living the baseball dream vicariously through Todd.

I even did the play-by-play in the meantime while Todd was warming up. You could only see him from his waist down, below the advertisements and behind the fence of the right-field bullpen.

Their pitching coach, former White Sox hurler Richard Dotson, paid a visit to the mound. I knew the next trip would be from the manager to call for Todd. He continued to warm up, firing fastballs and making the catcher's mitt pop, loud enough to hear as I sat just behind the Intimidators' dugout.

Then the trip was made and the manager's right arm was raised, indicating that he wanted the righty in the pen.

I had the tape rolling to get his grand entrance. But it wasn't Todd. I don't know how I lost sight of someone other than Todd getting ready. Rather than him, it was his roommate, Rick, who got the call and went on to pitch a scoreless two innings.

That's just the way the ball rolls sometimes.

"Oh well," I said under my breath. "Maybe there's an empty field on the way back to Todd's place. And hopefully this time it will be safe for me to play with the big kids."

Scott Deininger is a standup comedian from Shorewood. More of his work can be found via his Web site, www.ShaveYourHead.com

06/08/03