Sweepstakes Winner Jim Vermeys Takes the Field
One thing about the Giants annual Early Bird Sweepstakes held for season ticketholders: It sure does lead to good stories.
Jim Vermeys is the latest to join the club of Sweepstakes Storyteller. And, boy, does Jim have a great story to tell.
On July 6th, Vermeys, a long-time season ticket holder, had the unique and potentially humbling opportunity of strapping on a uniform as a Ball Dude for a day. His good fortune began when he was automatically entered in the Giants Early Bird Sweepstakes drawing, simply for getting his 2005 season ticket payment in early.
He was randomly selected and notified by his Client Relations Executive, Cindy Hernandez, that he was the lucky winner of this prestigious prize. Jim was excited to accept and carried out his duties with honor.
Congratulations, Jim, on becoming a Ball Dude for a day! Thank you so much for your on-going and loyal support of Giants baseball at SBC Park!
So one day back in May, I come home from work and my wife, Ali, says that
Cindy Hernandez from the Giants called and wants a call back ASAP.
Jim Vermeys, Sweepstakes Storyteller
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Let's see...My account is paid up, she shipped me the Bonds banner, I don't need any special tickets...What could she want? Ali says with a smile, "Just call her!"
When Cindy answers the phone, she immediately asks if I'm sitting down. Now, I'm thinking this is something special. It turns out that by paying my group's season ticket invoice early last December (we call ourselves They Might Be Giants Fans), I was entered in a Sweepstakes with various prizes from signed bats to club tickets, etc. I had forgotten that one of the prizes was Ball Dude For A Day.
Well, that's what I won!
We've all watched the Ball Dudes at the park and on TV. I'm sure that many of us have said at one time or another, "I could'a made that play!" It's always funny to hear Kruk and Kuip in hysterics over some slip, stumble or fall that the old geezers make while at their post. Well, my time had come.
After scheduling a game to be the B.D. with the Giants I thought the day would never come. After WEEKS of waiting, watching the 'Dudes, studying their technique, eyeballing the level of their pants legs, trying to get inside their head, July 6 finally came.
There was no BART strike that day so all is well (I was panicking about transportation-- can't be late to my one and only B.D. opportunity!). It was a night game against Junior Griffey and the Cincinnati Reds. I arrived at the park at 5:00pm and met Sue Peterson, my contact with the Giants. Also alongside was 65-year-old George, my B.D. partner for the night, also experiencing his rookie B.D. appearance. George had taken the traditional route to 'Duding: Reach age 60, apply with Giants and wait your turn. He applied in 2000. Five years later his turn finally came. Needless to say we were both pretty excited to be "on the inside."
Sue, George and I take a walk around the bowels of SBC Park and just as we approach the tunnel to the Giants dugout we run into none other than the Say Hey Kid himself. Willie Mays says a quick hello and heads off to wherever, providing me with my "Brush With Greatness" moment of the night.
We're soon talking with the sweet Elaine, who will outfit us with uniforms, jackets and a stack of cards with all the major league mascots on them to hand out to kids. After changing in the employee locker room we emerge feeling a bit prouder than ever before.
It's a Giants uniform and I'm wearing it. You can't help but feel good in those clothes. With cleats, Giants cap and a glove from home, George and I walk tall on our way to the Giants dugout to go over the Ball Dude code. Sue runs down the timing of the night, goes over the do's and don'ts, asks if we have any questions then sets us off on our own. She's done for her workday and heads home to watch us on TV, she says, to make sure we really can perform.
Now George and I are walking around like we own the place! Everybody treats you with respect when you're in the uniform. Ushers, employees, security, all were very nice and encouraging. It's about 50 minutes before game time so we kill a little time with the ushers on break in the break room.
A few days before on July 4, I had met usher Judy (section 129) and there she was again, on her break, so we catch up on some small talk. Judy gives a wink and says "if any of your friends or family want to get a closer look at their 3rd base line B.D. just tell them to mention your name." Judy accommodates several folks, all wanting pictures or a chat with a real Ball Dude. I'm only too happy to oblige!
George and I are allowed to hang out in front of the Giants dugout or along the line of seats down to the bullpen. There are several players getting ready around the dugout area but we've been told not to engage them in conversation. After all, we are Giants employees for the night and not fans.
It was difficult not to go up and say hello to Omar Vizquel, me being a shortstop and all. We size up the dugout area and realize that the cool place to hang is down with the fans between the dugout and the bullpen.
These folks LOVE the Ball Dudes! After some interaction with folks in the first few rows it became evident that there is a bit of celebrity status that comes with this job. At first it's a bit unnerving but in a few minutes the "ham" in me comes out and it's off we go! Everybody wants to talk to the Ball Dude. They call out "Ball Dude! Ball Dooooooooooode!!!" I smile and wave, or give the thumbs up or peace sign, and try to NOT let it go to my head.
As we approach game time it has become very apparent why these fans love me so much.
THEY WANT A BALL.
They'll do anything for a ball. They beg. They plead. They come up with stories as to why they are deserving (some maybe even true), all trying to win me over.
Then I'm asked for an autograph and it hits me: I'm on the field...I'm wearing the uni...To the kids I might be someone important...Someone who could provide that little autograph thrill.
How do I sign my name? Do I sign on the sweet spot of the ball? Do I even sign a ball that already has the signatures of Tyler Walker, Moises Alou, or J.T. Snow? I do, and I did! Soon my scribble has become "Jimmy V, B.D." like B.D. was a real position or something. Well, tonight, for me, it was.
Game time!
My jersey says Ball Dude and has the number 1 on the back, so I'm sure not putting this jacket over it. Yeah, it was cold and windy but no chance. I'm milking this night for all it's worth.
Here's the first pitch and we're off. Second batter pops up a ball near the bullpen and my first thought is to get out of the way ("and don't forget to take your stool", Sue had warned me in the pre-game). So I'm carrying my stool, trying to watch the players and not the ball, for it's them I want to steer clear of, not the baseball. It's caught for the 2nd out and I return to my post at the corner of some truly field level box seats.
My view of the plate is unobstructed if I scooch out a bit and I do. You bet I do. Anyway, that pop-up and the ensuing evacuation of my post was all the action I saw for the next few innings. George, over on the first base line, had one assist, a foul that he picked up (after it had come to rest) and handed over to a young fan. When's my turn? Am I ever going to get a play? This is a great game but could it be that I would get zero plays??? Naw. I'll get my shot.
After the first inning I realize that this job requires real concentration. It's quickly apparent that I can't watch this game like a fan. When you're in the stands your eyes wander, you don't see every pitch, you gaze at the Cove, take a bite of your dog, debate the significance (or insignificance) of the Designated Hitter with your seatmate. But the Ball Dude must be ready on every throw.
I soon learn the timing and the rhythm of pitchers Kevin Correia and Luke Hudson. Like the position players between the lines I have to focus and be ready at every pitch. I might only get one shot at this thing and danged if I'm gonna miss it!
In the meantime, I schmooze with the fans between innings. My wife arrives with her sister and a friend and they take their second-row seats about 2 sections up the line from me. My aunt, three uncles, and about 15 friends (some are season ticket holders) are in various locations around the park, there to witness my Dudeness.
During the first couple innings the fans up front all plead their case. "It's my sister's first ball game." "I'm only twelve...can I have a ball?" "My dad told me come up and ask you for a ball." "We drove all the way from Fresno!" "Hey Ball Dude! Gimme a ball!" Now, in my book there's a right way and a wrong way to ask for a ball. "Gimme a Ball!" ain't cuttin' it.
There are a couple teenagers about six rows up who are relentless. Non-stop jabbering aimed at me. Good-natured and supportive, but painfully ongoing! I try to acknowledge them each time but it's constant. They don't want a ball. They just want to make sure I know they are there.
"Lookin' good, Ball Dude." "Right on, Ball Dude." "Yo, Ball Dude."
After the top of the first ends a boy, about 11, runs down from his seat and yells, "Hey Ball Dude!" I turn around and he tosses me a mini Three Musketeers bar and runs off. I thank him and figure a Ball Dude's gotta eat, right? He's just helping me out.
Then after the bottom of the first the same thing happens: "Hey Ball Dude!" Again, I turn and he smiles and tosses a mini Twix bar. I thank him again and ask him his name. "I'm Pix," he says.
This happens again after the top of the second and finally I realize his ploy: I'm being bribed! This kid found a way to move right to the top of my foul ball recipient list with his creativity. Little did he know that I had already chosen my first recipient of a foul ball. But he certainly earned a spot in second place. Snickers, Nestle's Crunch, another Twix...this continues until he runs out in the bottom of the sixth.
Back to that later.
Jim Vermeys and his Client Relations rep Cindy Hernandez
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Now it's the top of the 4th and I still have not had a foul ball. Patience, grasshopper. Good things come to he who waits.
By this time I had met Jason, the security guard for the nearby section and we had chatted a few times. So he's kneeling just to my right and we're talking then crack! The Reds' pitcher is hitting and his swing is wayyyyyy out in front of a Correia curveball and his grounder is headed right for me.
Now, I'm 43 and still playing ball so this was not foreign territory to me (like it seems to be for some Ball Dudes). Quickly I'm up, three steps to my left, here it comes, extend the glove, and pop!
Right in the webbing as I'm moving to my left. A medium 4-hopper, I'd call it.
Okay...where is she? Where's that little girl I picked out in the first inning? There she is! I hand her the ball and she lights up like a Christmas tree. The crowd in section 127 sounds their approval of my play. After a few high fives from Dad and the nearby fans it's back to the stool. Now, I had one under my belt. Let the foul ball spree begin! I'm ready. Bring it on. Line drives, one-hoppers, whatever. I'm unstoppable now.
But, that's it. My one shining moment of the night.
George gets another opportunity to chase one down on his side but it turns out to be a slow night for the Dudes. I had watched the game the night before on TV and it seemed that those Dudes made 6 or 7 plays apiece! Oh well, it's the entire experience that counts, right?
By this time I've had so much candy I'm starting to stash each piece that Pix brings me. So I start passing each piece to a fan as I get it. If I can't give them a ball, I can give them candy! And what starts to happen? Now each time I walk up the line between innings, they no longer beg for a ball but they want a piece of candy. That, I can provide.
Now, it's around the 6th inning and it's getting colder. Still, I resist the jacket. I figure it's like when you see a player get beaned at the plate. They will not rub it! "Don't rub it!" Krukow always says. Resist! It's not cold, it's just the wind!
The Giants are up 5-2 and the bullpen goes to work. First, it's LaTroy Hawkins. My stool is about five feet from the bullpen plate and as Yorvit Torrealba is squatting next to me, warming up each pitcher, I can hear the pop of ball hitting glove at 96 MPH. Louder than I've ever heard it. Between game pitches I sneak looks at several of Hawkins' warmup pitches. How the heck can anyone hit that!?
Eventually Scott Eyre, Scott Munter and Tyler Walker go through their bullpen warm-ups, all with Torrealba catching. In the 7th, after Munter finishes his warmup and the inning ends he tosses a ball to the crowd. And who gets it? Pix! He had been coming down to the rail between innings (with candy, until he ran out!) hoping that he would get a warm-up ball or a Ball Dude ball. He finally got his ball and he was certainly deserving of it.
After the Giants go up 7-2 in the 8th it becomes clear to me that this night is about to end. No!!! I want another shot at a ball! I'm on the field and I don't want to leave!
The ninth inning flies by and it's over. I pose for a few pictures and sign a few more autographs. I'm lingering. I try to stall. George makes his way over and he's talking to family. Pix's father comes down and introduces himself. He tells me that the bribing was all Pix's idea. He had never bribed a Ball Dude before tonight. I tell him he has a great son.
The grounds crew is working on the infield, Sinatra is singing on the PA and the fans are making their way home. We head down through the dugout to the tunnel and make our way to our lockers.
Along the way a few employees say "Ball Dude...nice play. I saw you on TV. They talked about you!"
Really? I did, in fact, submit a short bio of me to the Giants at their request, so that Kruk and Kuip could refer to it. Maybe they did.
What a night! It felt like a dream. I would love to be a Ball Dude again. Alas, I can't apply officially until July of 2021. You can bet that I will.
Regrets? Just one. The Fresno dad took a picture of the little girl (the recipient of my one ball) and me and I'm sure it came out great. But I didn't get their contact information. D'oh! So, if you're out there and reading this you can reach me at dustmybroom@yahoo.com. I'd love a copy of that photo.
While we're walking to our car, my wife and others say they heard folks in our section after the game saying things like "he was a GREAT Ball Dude!"
That makes me proud. Yeah, I worked the crowd. I played to that stage. I made my one play and didn't boot it or take a header. I really did earn my $15.00 (the little stipend each B.D. gets per game). A chance like that may never come again.
What would you do?
Jim Vermeys
Ball Dude
July 6, 2005
SBC Park
P.S. I went home and watched the recording of THE PLAY. Hey, I DID look good! They did talk about me! They even put a graphic of my bio on the screen and plugged my band, the Tamsen Donner Band. Duane Kuiper was quoted as saying, "Jim's 43 but he's movin' around like he's 33!" Wow. Kuiper has commented on my play at the ballpark.
Who could ask for more?!
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