Men At Work A night at the ballpark

It's three-thirty on a Thursday afternoon, more than three hours before game time, and the Yard Goats of Hartford, a Double-A affiliate of the Rockies of Colorado are on the field at Dunkin' Donuts Park in Hartford running calesthenic drills on the third base line.

Their opponents for the evening, the Patriots of Somerset, (Bridgewater Township, New Jersey) affiliates of the Yankees of New York, wait their turn in the club house. Occasionally one or more of them will take a stroll into the dugout to assess how much longer they have to wait before they can begin their own warm ups.

The support staff erects the batting cage around home plate, the pitching machine, and other screens through center-field to protect everyone from hard hit balls they may or may not see coming.

UL: Daniel Cope, UR: Ezequiel Tovar, LL: Michael Toglia

In groups of five, the Yard Goats and later the Patriots, take their turn at bat with a hitting coach looking on and offering suggestions. The crack of the bat echoes through the park at a decibel level that seems higher than a game time hit. Each time a batter sends a ball soaring toward the outfield wall everyone stops, and looks, and watches until it lands, as if they have never seen a ball launch off a bat before. Every flight is different.

Imagining success.

Most of the players are only a few years out of high school, or college. As they wait their turn in the batting cage, they discuss their earlier playing days. Their school home run records. They know this league is different. Harder. More competitive. It takes work to survive here and even more work to take the next step towards the majors.

Some of them are expected to make it. There is a quiet about the ones who are performing at a higher level. A seriousness that sets them apart. It is difficult to tell whether their success is due to ambition or talent or skill derived from ambition.

Regardless, the others watch closely, searching for the secret.

Upper: The Patriots take practice, LL: Willie MacIver with batting coach.

On this night the temperature is in the 50s and each time players make contact a shivering sting is sent through the bat to the fingers and hands and up the forearms. Each time they take a swing they know it's going to hurt. They swing anyway, because each swing presents a chance for perfection.

Like a construction site littered with shovels and pick axes, the baseball diamond is covered with the tools of baseball. Gloves, bats, buckets of balls and those odd pieces only a professional would know how to use.

It is all cleaned up by the players and the grounds crew as the fans begin to arrive.

Preparing to steal second.

Rituals.

As the players take the stage, only a few fans arrived early enough to see the work done in preparation for tonight's game. For the players, even the game is practice. They are practicing and working for the chance to play one game, or a whole career, at the highest level of the sport: the American major leagues.

As many times as they swing the bat or chase down a ball in practice, or in play, none will compare to that first time in the big leagues. That's why they work.

Night Baseball.