Al's Big Red Machine

All of us have that childhood teacher that stood out, left a lifetime impression on us. It's no coincidence that mine was Ms. Knudsen, my 4th grade teacher at South Hialeah Elementary in 1970. You see Ms. Knudsen knew I was a big baseball fan and a little boy who was passionate about his favorite team, the Cincinnati Reds. It's practically all I talked about during show and tell time in class. I was also a good student, completed my work on time and was always very respectful. In mid October that year after watching the Baltimore Orioles go up on my Reds 2-0 over the weekend in the World Series, I returned to school on Monday, pleading with Ms. Knudsen to let me hear the Series on my transistor AM-FM radio when it resumed Tuesday afternoon during school hours. Ms. Knudsen made a deal with me, that not only could I not refuse, but was eager to make good on. She told me if I finished my classwork on time, without recklessly rushing through it, she would let me sit next to her wi

My first non coaching "baseball practice" in more than 35 years was one to remember. Like the first day of class in elementary school, I was excited, anticipating the adrenalin rush of catching and hitting a baseball again. I made sure to do a little extra mobility and stretching in the gym the day before and even simulated the throwing and swinging motions in order to wake up those muscle fibers that had been dormant for years. Since the workout was at Cincinnati Reds slugger Nick Castellanos' property, I invited my son and surprised my 18-year-old nephew, a high school pitcher, to join me and get an opportunity meet Nick. After some initial stretching, Nick set up a machine to vault some fly balls our way. My confidence level was teetering as I didn't know how well I'd track the fly balls, given that I was wearing progressive, prescription eyeglasses. Castellanos Sr. and I took turns fielding the fly balls. When I heard the thump of the baseball pop out of the m

I was 5 years old when I discovered the Cincinnati Reds . That special summer day in 1966 at Dodgers stadium in Los Angeles, I didn't even know how to pronounce Cincinnati, but sitting high atop the upper deck stands, I saw a very active group of red "circles" constantly moving from base to base, much to the disappointment of so many people seated around me dressed in blue.  I  didn't know the names of the players, but my dad and uncle seated on either side of me provided all of the narration I needed. I naively called the more active team the Reds, solely because of the color I saw on the tops of their caps. I remember asking my dad why the people around us didn't cheer when the red "circles" ran around the bases. He smiled and said "that's because they want the "Blues" to win. But on that 16th day of August, not even the great Sandy Koufax could stop the red "circles" from recording a 5 to 1 win. And while my uncle was exci

When I decided to fulfill a lifetime bucket list experience to play baseball again in the Big League uniform of my childhood favorite Cincinnati Reds team, my immediate thought was to recruit guys I grew up playing the game with to join me. What a better way to relive my most cherished memories than with the actual guys I played with at the youth and high school level. One of the first guys I reached out to was a late 70s high school teammate (the Casanova pictured left) named Jorge Castellanos. At 15, it was all about the girls, but today not only is Jorge one of the top pulmonologists in South Florida, but also happens to be the father of young Reds superstar, Nick Castellanos (pictured below), who attended high school with my son Michael  After speaking to Nick over the Christmas Holidays about the idea, I was pretty confident that I'd secure my first recruit. I was right. I continued to excitedly call, text, email many other prior teammates. To my surprise, not everyone was a