Time was of the essence, but we had to set up a means of evaluating would be players for the team. Upon arriving back at the park, we convened a meeting in my new house. Denton was kind enough to furnish me with an oak table, and a few pine chairs.
For once the System made it relatively easy to figure out how I was going to measure people’s baseball abilities. Early in the evening, after downing a bowl of stew, my vision received an update.
I gained a ‘clickable’ (by blinking) stop watch, an on-the-fly rangefinder (measuring projectile distance in feet), a radar gun (measuring projectile speed in miles per hour), slow motion replay, and an accuracy ‘box’.
The latter was actually a rectangle representing a strike zone from a person’s hollow beneath their knee cap, up to the top of their shoulders. It was also seventeen inches (43 cm) wide (the same width as home plate).
Given these ‘gifts’, I bounced ideas off Proctor on how best to utilize them for player evaluation. We worked by fire light, and scratched ideas down on parchment with an inked quill.
When we rose the following morning, we’d received word from Denton, and Gak both to expect at least a hundred villagers coming to the park around midday. Upon hearing it, I had an excited shudder come over me. Adrenaline, but not in a negative anxious way. It was exciting to put the team together.
First thing was first, however, I wanted to evaluate the players we already had. I think most of the guys already under contract had forgotten I’d have to assess them in order to figure out where they’d fit as players on the team. They seemed pretty surprised when I called them out to the field.
“Are we wearing the uniforms?” Proctor asked.
“Not yet,” I said. “Why soil them now? Debuting the uniforms should be in front of a crowd. It can wait.”
Trevor wanted to help out, so I put him in charge of organizing the arrivals. We wanted to keep the prospective players, and whomever they’d bring with them (family members, and such) in a cohesive line. I didn’t want a chaotic scene where everyone’s milling about, and where I wouldn’t keep track of who I’d seen/evaluated, and who I hadn’t.
“If you’re the only one with those sight abilities,” Proctor said, “you’re going to be doing all the individual assessments.”
“I know,” I said.
“You’re going to be exhausted,” Proctor said.
“Hazard of the job, I guess,” I said. “Not much choice.”
People began showing up way ahead of time. By the height of the sun, I’d guessed it was about ten in the morning. It was still bone cold. I mean, it was always cold, but at least in the afternoon it became somewhat bearable.
The weather was basically what you’d picture if you’ve ever watched playoff baseball in the major leagues where they play outdoor games in October in places like Boston, New York, or Cleveland (to name a few). I needed to put together a winning team right away so we could earn a better climate from the bloody System.
Alright, here’s what I can tell you in terms of what we came up with for evaluating everyone auditioning (trying out) to play for Moonlight:
The first criteria was the ability to make contact when batting. I was judging the hand eye coordination of someone attempting to hit the ball. I’d throw twenty five reasonably fast pitches from the pitcher’s mound with as much accuracy as I could, and the batter trying out for the team would just try to make contact. They wouldn’t even necessarily have to hit the ball well, all I cared about was could they touch the bloody thing with the bat.
Then there was power. I wanted to know how strong the would be batter was once they’d made contact with the pitch. I’d measure this based on twenty five contacts. It would have to be decent contact, an actual hit.
If they could put the ball deep into the outfield, or even past the line we’d designated for the outfield wall (that we’d still yet to build), that would count as a power shot.
If a prospective player could hit three power shots out of twenty five contacts, to me, that’d be elite level power. Two power shots would be pretty good. One would be average. Zero, to me, would mean they weren’t likely to be a power hitter.
Fielding:
Players would field (try to catch) one hundred balls: twenty five would be thrown balls, and seventy five would be batted balls.
Ten of the thrown balls would be fielded with a catcher’s mitt. Fifteen of the thrown balls would be fielded with a regular baseball glove.
Twenty five of the batted balls would be ground balls in the infield dirt. Twenty five would be fly balls to the outfield grass. Fifteen of the batted balls would be pop ups within the infield wearing a regular glove. Ten of them would be pop ups within the infield wearing a catcher’s mitt.
To be considered an elite fielder:
100% catch rate
80%+ catch rate = above average fielder
70%+ = average
Below 70% = below average
Below 60% = poor fielder
Running speed:
For this attribute, I’d stand near first base, and use my stop watch vision to time a runner from standing next to home plate, running in a straight line to touch first base. Each runner will get three tries from the right side of the plate, and three tries from the left side. I’d drop the slowest time of the three sprints from each side, and average the other two for an overall grade.
Keep in mind, the distance from home plate to first base, according to the System’s specifications is 90 feet/30 yards (27 meters).
Runner evaluation:
4.0 seconds/4.1 seconds from left/right side of home plate to first base (1B) = elite speed
4.1 seconds/4.2 seconds from left/right side of home plate to first base (1B) = above average speed
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4.2 sec/4.3 sec, left/right, home to 1B = average
4.3 sec/4.4 sec, left/right, home to 1B = below average
4.4/4.5 sec, L/R, home to 1B = poor
For throwing, the first thing evaluated would be pitching from the pitcher’s mound. I’d evaluate this first because it’d be the most arm fatiguing, and I’d want to see a prospective player’s top throwing speed before they potentially wore themselves out with other types of throws. I had no know who my best candidates were for my team’s pitching staff - a super important position on the team, obviously.
Using my new radar gun vision ability, I’d set up behind home plate. I’d stand behind whomever I had as a designated catcher, and use the gun to measure the speed of their pitch. But, I’d also have to pay attention to their accuracy. I had the strike zone box part of my vision turned on as well, so I could measure how accurate they were with their throwing arm from the mound.
So as not to fatigue them too much, I’d have each person trying out throw five pitches as straight fastballs. I’d tell them to give it their all. Put everything they have into the speed of the pitch.
For most, I’d have to show them the form of what a baseball pitch looks like, which I’d be doing from memory from watching games on TV, but I figured I had a decent idea of what a pitch looked like.
I had no illusions that anyone living in this medieval village would throw a baseball pitch near the top speeds of major league baseball players in the modern day, but hey, you never knew what anyone was capable of until you saw it, right?
Then, I’d have them attempt five pitches with movement. Two fastballs with movement, and three breaking pitches like a curveball.
Did I believe anyone would be able to do any of the above? No, but I had to try and see if there were any diamonds in the rough hiding in this stone age place. What an advantage it would be for the team to find people capable of throwing like that.
Here’s the criteria for evaluating a prospective player’s pitching ability:
100-101 miles per hour (160-162 kilometers per hour) = elite plus plus
97-99 miles per hour (156-159 kilometers per hour) = elite plus
93-96 mph (149-154 kmh) = elite
88-92 mph (141-148 kmh) = above average
82-87 mph (131-140 kmh) = average
73-81 mph (117-130 kmh) = below average
Below 73 mph (below 117 kmh) = poor
I’d rate the accuracy of these five hard pitches (fastballs), as well as five more pitches which they could throw with a little less gas. Then we’d do the five pitches with movement and/or breaks.
Confused yet? Good. So am I.
For pitching accuracy I’d use the following criteria:
From the five fastballs, and five pitches with attempts at movement/break:
Elite = all five inside the strike zone, at least one of which hits the bull’s eye (dead center of the strike zone box)
Above Average = three inside the strike zone, both of the other two just outside the zone
Average = two inside the strike zone, two just outside the zone, one off target or wild (way off target)
Below Average = one inside the strike zone, two just outside the zone, two off target or wild
Poor = none inside the strike zone, one just outside the zone, one or two off target, the rest are wild
Accuracy criteria for the five regular (non-fastball, non-movement/breaking) pitches:
Elite = all five hit the bull’s eye
Above Average = three or four bull’s eyes, the rest inside the strike zone box
Average = one or two bull’s eyes, two others inside the strike zone, the rest just outside the zone
Below Average = two or three just outside the zone, the rest off target or wild
Poor = one just outside the zone, two or three off target, the rest are wild
In order to measure the five pitches to assess movement on the pitches, or break on the pitches (for curveballs), I’d have to use the ‘eye test’ utilizing the slow motion replay ability.
Basically, I’d watch the pitch after the fact in slow motion, and see if I could observe any movement (the ball basically dancing in the air on its way to home plate, is the best I can describe it from my non baseball expert perspective), and/or break (the amount the ball ‘slides’ or drops deceptively as it moves in proximity to the batter).
Movement/break evaluation:
Elite = lots of movement/break on three out of the five pitches, decent movement on the others
Above Average = lots of move/break on one or two, decent amount on the rest
Average = decent move/break on one or two, slight move/break on one or two, no movement or break on the rest
Below Average = slight move/break on one, no move/break on one or two, flailing and/or wild throws on the rest
Poor = no move/break on one or two, flailing and/or wild on the rest
Then we’d measure a player’s arm accuracy throwing from second base (2B) to home plate ten times:
Elite = 100% of throws to home from 2B, the ball’s received on or just above the plate
Above Average = 80%+ on or just above home plate
Average = 70%+
Below Average = 60%+
Poor = Below 60%
We’d do the same thing to assess throwing ability as a catcher (simulating trying to catch a batter stealing a base), meaning the player would don a catcher’s mitt, receive a light throw to them, and then they’d have to throw the ball as quickly as possible straight out to second base (2B). We’d also do this ten times.
Evaluation:
Elite = 100% of throws from home plate are received on or just above second base (2B)
Above Average = 90% are on or just above 2B
Average = 80%
Below Average = 70%
Poor = Below 70%
Lastly, we’d measure the distance of a person’s throwing ability. This would assess prospective players to see if they’d be better suited to the outfield, where it’s important to be able to throw great distances to keep runners from scoring.
For this drill, I’d evaluate people trying out by having them get a decent run off (so they could incorporate their whole body into their throws) near home plate, and have them throw the baseball as far as they can toward centerfield (CF). We’d do this five times. Any more than five throws and I felt like we’d get diminishing returns, and not a true representation of their ability because of the arm fatigue involved.
Here’s the criteria I’d use to evaluate their throwing ability, in terms of distance (a.k.a. Arm strength) for the five throws (averaged out over the five):
Elite = 350 to 400 foot average throw (106-121 meters)
Above Average = 280 to 320 feet avg (85-91 meters)
Average = 230 to 260 ft avg (70-79 m)
Below Average = 180 to 220 ft avg (55-67 m)
Poor = Below 180 ft avg (Below 55 m)
Taking everything into account. It was a LOT of criteria to evaluate all of the prospective player candidates for the Moonlight Magic. I wasn’t convinced we’d get through all of the try outs in one day. But, the clock was ticking, and I knew the System would be unforgiving, so I was counting on my giant friend to keep things going like a well oiled machine.
By the time an hour had passed from the first ‘auditioners’ showing up with their families, we had a good two dozen onlookers taking seats on the bleachers. The energy was palpable, people were excited to watch this new, novel thing brought into their world.
As a group, we went underground, and brought out loads of baseball equipment. I threw on a chest shield for protection, and a catcher’s face mask. My stomach was growling, and we hadn’t even started yet. I’d hoped the villagers who’d already showed up wouldn’t lose their patience, and leave as I assessed my friends’ playing abilities first, but for some reason I had it doggedly in mind to get their evaluations out of the way before seeing anyone else. I never claimed to be the most logical type.
This meant I wanted Proctor to go first.
“I’m about to put you through your paces,” I said to him with a chuckle. “You do realize that, right?”
He simply nodded, betraying little of his nerves, if he had any. Instead, he glared at me, and said: “Are you ready?”
The way he said it, as as challenge… it made me laugh.
“Of course, I am,” I said. “Are you?”