16 years go by so fast
16 years ago today, I made my major league debut against the New York Mets at Wrigley Field.
It was a great day but it was also a scary day.
I’d never played in front of so many people before. We barely would have 20 people at my little league games.
And then of course, the first batter I face is Heddo. And what does he do? He knocks it out of the park. Homerun.
It had to be the scariest moment of my life. But after I got that save, it was one of the happiest moments of my life.
I had hoped that I’d be able to make my re-debut on August 11th. But once again that day has come and no such luck.
Sheesh.
More attention from the media
My interview on Mac Diamond’s Sports Chat is being featured on the front page of Wasting Away in Wrigleyville, a blog devoted to the Chicago Cubs.
I can’t tell you how thankful I am to the fans for this grassroots campaign to get me back on the team.
You guys are awesome.
-Henry Rowengartner
(p.s. if you can’t get onto the site, you can watch the video here:
Putting my talent to good use
Boy oh boy, am I glad I went to that party last night!
After a shower, and more debate in front of the mirror about going or not, I finally decided that I was going to that party, come hell or high water. Before I headed out, I grabbed my wallet, my comb and a baseball.
I like to carry a baseball at all times. I picked that up from my old pitching coach Phil Brickma (1993 Chicago Cubs Pitching Coach). He was wacky, but he taught me a lot about visualization. There’s a theory that if you can visualize yourself doing the motions of an activity that it can be just as effective as actually doing the motions. I think it’s called sense memory. In the movie Caddyshack, it was called “Be the ball.”
Anyways, back to last night. I drove over and parked on a dark residential street about three blocks from the party. I’m walking down the street, clutching my baseball. As I’m scanning its threads with my fingers, I’m thinking about how I should be at home, focusing on my craft.
But then, I see two dark figures towards the end of the street. It kind of looked like they were having some kind of struggle, or fight or something.
The thing is: This is Chicago. Sometimes a struggle is just a couple of drunks having fun. Sometimes a person screaming is just a college kid on a weekend binge. So I’m only mildly cautious of the scene I’m approaching.
Well, as I get closer, I see that I’m walking towards a girl and a guy in their 20s with their backs to me. And the guy is grabbing on the girl’s purse. I quicken my pace.
Just as I came up on the two, the guy gave up trying to swipe her purse. He starts running off and the girl is a little panicked.
I say, “Are you okay?” She says back, “No, he’s got my phone!”
Well, that’s when the adrenaline kicked in. I had a plain view of the guy running down the middle of the street. I could see the phone in his hand.
I raised my arm up and gave the target one last look. Then ZOOM, the ball flies from my hand with all the speed and velocity that I remember from my rookie year. WHOOSH, the ball sails through the air, then with a loud POP, i see it’s a BULLSEYE!
The ball hits the guy right in the hand. He grunts in pain and the phone drops out of his grasp. The guy keeps running. The girl looks at me in amazement. I admit I was just as amazed as her.
Of course I had hoped the old Rowengartner fastball would come back, but there was no guarantee. Even today, when I went out to throw some practice balls, I couldn’t get close to what I did last night.
Anyway, back to the scene of the crime. The girl and I head over to where her iPhone had fallen. She leans down to pick it up and as luck would have it, there’s not really any damage. Maybe a scratch or two, but that’s it.
She looked at me and said, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
I shrugged my shoulders as if saving girls with a magical pitching arm was just an everyday occurrence for me. I retrieved the baseball, which had rolled over to the curb.
I walked back to her and asked her if she was hurt and if she was going to be all right. She said she was fine.
“Where did you learn to throw a baseball like that?” she asked.
I realized she didn’t recognize me and I was actually relieved. I wasn’t Henry Rowengartner, former baseball player and rookie of the year to this girl. I was a man (maybe a hero?) who had just saved her.
Still playing it cool, I told her that throwing baseballs was just a hobby of mine.
“Well, you’re incredible,” she said. “You should be on the Chicago Cubs.”
Then she asked, “Is there any way I can repay you?”
“You just did,” I said, feeling the mist starting to form in the corners of my eyes.
I know she couldn’t have understood what that meant. Before anything else could be said, we saw the headlights of a car approaching. A taxi. She flagged it down and got in.
“Thanks again,” the girl said, as she got in the cab. The car drove away and I continued on my way to the party.
I think I’m in love.
Should I stay or should I go?
A lot of pro athletes love to go out and party. But I’m not like most sports stars. I’m really not into the whole party scene. Sure, there was that one awesome party that Mr. Carson (the old owner of the Cubs) threw for the team back in ’93. There was a ton of food and an awesome pinball machine. I admit it was a fun night. But, all in all, I’m not much of a party animal.
I guess the reason I’m thinking of it now is that I got invited to a party tonight. When I was asked (the other day), I was like, “Yeah, cool. That’ll be fun.” And I honestly was looking forward to it. But now I’m sitting in my apartment and the last thing i wanna do is go to this party. I’m dreading it.
I don’t know if it’s a discomfort because a lot of people recognize me when I go out. Then inevitably, i get asked a million questions all night about what it was like to play for the Cubs, what I’m doing now, etc. I try to get to know people and ask them about themselves, but the conversation always seems to come back to me. Then I feel like they think I’m full of myself when really, I’d much rather hear about how they work for CPS (Chicago Public Schools) or sell radio ads in a phone bank.
As much as I don’t want to, I feel like I gotta go to this party. I don’t want to be a flake or have anyone saying that I thought I was too good for this party. Plus, it would do me good to get out. Otherwise, I’m just gonna sit here all night, reviewing my training tapes or planning my next move in this seemingly eternal quest to get back on the Cubs.
I’m trying to get up the energy to do this. It sucks though because I gotta take a shower and get ready. And then I’m gonna end up spending a bunch of time looking for a parking space.
I can do it though. I know I can get through this.
Thanks for “listening” to this garbage. I know I sound like a real jerk right now.
-Henry Rowengartner
Baseball trade rumor: Rowengartner, a Diamondback?
According to an Arizona Diamondback fan blog, I’m on a short list of relievers Arizona should consider to help their struggling bullpen. I know what you’re thinking. “Henry, how could you leave Chicago?” And honestly, I don’t want to. I’ve lived here my whole life. I love this city. But hear me out.
Chicago has obviously not shown much interest in me. Maybe what I need is to get out of here for awhile. Maybe if I can make some noise on another team, I can generate some interest from the Cubs.
It’s kinda like dating. You go awhile with nothing. Suddenly, you get a girlfriend and the women can’t keep their hands off of you. In high school, me and Becky broke up for awhile and she wanted nothing to do with me. Then a rumor went around that I was taking this other chick Monica to prom. Well, Becky was pissed. But she immediately wanted me back. Of course the rumor about Monica wasn’t real (I swear I didn’t start that rumor). But the theory proved true, Becky and I went to the prom, and then got married after high school.
Come to think of it, Becky and I have been divorced for a few years (see becky). If only she knew that I’m dating, uh, Monic– no, no, um– If only she knew that I was dating Lisa (this really hot girl who works at Ultimate Exposure Tanning Salon), then maybe Becky would want me back.
Boy, is Lisa gonna be sad to see me go to Arizona. She loves me a lot though. She’ll probably move to Arizona to be near me.
Zambrano’s tantrum reminiscent of Chet Steadman
I’ve been known to criticize Carlos Zambrano in the past (see last year’s no hitter), but his temper tantrum after being ejected yesterday was straight out of the Chet Steadman playbook. I’m not sure what was more awesome: Zambrano trying to throw the umpire out of the game or seeing him take a bat to the Gatorade machine in the dugout. The Rocket would have been proud.
Note to Lou: Since Z is sure to be suspended for this, how about calling me up? Just for a week or so.
Oh the times, they are a-changing…
There’s a new Bob Dylan album out and to get ready for it, I’ve been listening to a lot of older Bob Dylan music lately. Say what you want about Dylan’s voice, you can’t deny that the man speaks the truth. And no truer words spoken than, “The times, they are a-changing…”
What I’m trying to say is that my rehabilitation from my second arm fracture hasn’t been going quite as planned.
I thought it would be just like when I was 12 years old:
The doctor would take the cast off, I’d wind my arm back and then SNAP! My arm would thrust forward, the doctor’s nose would break and he’d scream, “Funky butt lovin’–!”
But no, it hasn’t been like that at all. It’s just been hard. My arm aches, especially when “a hard rain’s gonna fall” (thank you again, Dylan). In fact, I’d say that my arm is worse today than it was last year.
I don’t know. Life seems to be slipping away from me. I feel like maybe I’m getting too old for this shit. One of my best friends, Clark, is married with a kid. And my other best friend, George, is getting married this summer. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for him. But he’s living with his fiance now and too busy to work on baseball with me like he did before.
I’m beginning to realize that this is a battle I’m gonna have to face alone.
In the meantime, the Cubs have been losing….bad. Today was their 7th straight loss in a row. I can’t help but feel guilty. I know it’s not my fault that they won’t try to end the Rowengartner Curse by putting me on the team. But I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible. I wish the Cubs organization would see that I just want to help.
But sometimes no matter how bad you want something that doesn’t mean you’re going to get it. As Dylan said, “When you can’t get what you want, you have to settle for something less.”
The problem is that I’ve been focused on this one thing that I want for so long that I don’t even know what I’d settle for. It’s like there’s a whole other world going on out there and I don’t speak the language.
Maybe I’ll feel different tomorrow. Maybe I’m just “tangled up in blue” right now. Just wanted to let you all know where I’m at.
Thanks for your continued support.
-Henry Rowengartner
p.s. I’ll be bartending this whole week, so come by the pub during the Cubs games to say hello.
stop talking about the cat, already!
A cat ran across wrigley field last night during the Cubs-Cincinatti game. Now people are talking about the NLCS in 1969 and the black cat that ran onto the field and circled Ron Santo as he prepared to come up to the plate. “it’s the curse!” i heard people say after the game last night while i was tending bar at Jake’s Pub. i wanted to scream, “get real, you drunk fools. that cat wasn’t even black! it was like a tabby. tabbies aren’t bad luck. now scram.” but i didn’t say that. i’m a professional and i got to make a sale.
I’m just woried that this Tabby Cat Curse is gonna take attention away from the Rowengartner Curse, which is not good. i struggle enough as it is to compete with the young pitchers trying to move up to the MLB like me. Now my curse has to compete with other curses?
next thing you know people will start bringing up the billy goat curse. hello, that’s old news. remember 1993 when i helped pitch the cubs to world series victory? the billy goat curse was lifted and with that, so was the 1969 black cat curse. slate wiped clean. ’nuff said.
So let’s stop talking about cats and start talking about things that really count like a former teenage miracle relief pitcher and how we get him back onto the team that needs him.
-Henry Rowengartner
The Big Day is Finally Here!
Finally!
So the big day is finally here. I bet you think I’m talking about Opening Day 2009. Well, yes, I suppose that’s a big day. But it also just happens to be the day I get my cast off.
That’s right. I said cast. You guessed it, I broke my arm again. That’s why I haven’t written this blog in so long.
After last year’s baseball season ended in expected tragedy for the Cubs, I was too busy training to keep my blog updated. Then as the winter wore on, I was out jogging one snowy, icy morning. The sidewalk was very slippery and I almost fell several times. I admit, I was hoping I would fall, but when you’re trying to force something to happen, that’s when it usually doesn’t.
But on that particular morning, as I turned the corner at Clark and Addison, I looked up to gaze at Wrigley Field. What I didn’t see was a baseball (what the heck?) sticking out of the layer of ice on the sidewalk. My foot hit the ball and my whole body went flying 10 feet into the air. I landed smack on my shoulder.
I couldn’t believe my good luck!
Another broken arm, another cast and hopefully another miracle of sports science.
So, readers, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to keep you updated on my life over the last few months. I literally just got the cast off and I’m excited to get out and test my arm out with some pitches later in the day. The doctor said not to overdo it, but he doesn’t understand that I have a responsibility to my fans. Who knows, if everything goes right, I’ll be back on the Cubs by mid-season and leading the club to a World Series victory this fall.
There’s a magical feeling in the air. I think this might finally be the year that the curse is broken.
-Henry Rowengartner
another setback
well, i’ve got the flu. exhausted but can’t sleep; fever and chills; basically, the works. so, it looks like i’ve got another few days without any conditioning. i guess i’ll just practice visualizing my perfect 103 mph pitch. in a few days, i should be back to normal and finally focusing on the 2009 season. Here’s to no more setbacks!
-henry rowengartner
