"Batboy!"

Not too long ago, I was hanging out with my old buddies at Pops Deli in West Hartford, CT, and we started talking baseball like most or dinary people do that follow the game. The topic was “scoring position.” Not the question of why so-and-so didn't drive in what's-his-name but rather, "Why does a broadcaster wait until there's a runner at second or third base to proclaim, 'There’s a runner in scoring position?'”

I first started to explain the basic thought that most base runners can out run a throw from the outfield if they are at least on second when the play starts. Then, the next question became the true focus of the conversation. How would you define a true power hitter then? Well, in this day of trying to use stats to determine a player's ability, I am not sure the answer I gave to that question would work in the computer formula era.

In 1993, I had the privilege to play for the Baltimore Orioles, one of the great franchises in baseball history. When you have that type of history you probably had some Hall of Fame players in the past too. Frank Robinson is one of those Hall of Famers, and fortunately for me, he was still in the organization. Mr. Robinson had taken a position with the club as the Assistant General Manager.

Because his position required him to travel with the team, I got to spend a lot of time picking his brain on flights. He would be seated in the front of the plane with the rest of the brass, but I didn't care. I would bust thru the curtain and seek him out. He always greeted me with his traditional “What do you want now?" He acted tough but I knew he enjoyed our visits. One time our conversation was about the power game, RBI's, home runs -- that type of stuff. In the midst of this conversation he paused and asked me, "Do you know what a true power hitter is?"

I said, "Yeah, a guy who can hit the ball out of the ball park."

He said, "No, a guy who can drive a man in from first base." He repeated it for effect. "A guy who can drive a man in from first base."

If the Hall of Famer is saying that scoring position is reduced to the man at the plate, then I'm inclined to believe he might know what he's talking about.

I've learned through the years that power hitters think totally differently than the rest of us. It reminds me of one of my favorite stories of all time, about one of my favorite people, Oscar Gamble. Gamble was a power hitter with big personality and big-time flare. He was known to, on occasion when hitting a monster home run, while the ball was still on flight to the seats in right field, the left-handed hitting Gamble would shout "Batboy!" then hand the bat off to the batboy as he went into his trot. I ran into Oscar at Yankee Stadium a few weeks back. I asked him when he considered a man to be in scoring position, and he shared this story.

He had the pleasure of playing for the late Billy Martin. Billy was very controlling manager, particularly late in the game.

With the team down a run, Billy instructed the team, "Let’s take a strike 'til we get a man in scoring position.” Leading off the inning was Oscar Gamble. The first pitch was a ball. The next pitch, Oscar swung and fouled it off, and Billy jumped off the bench and began shouting in Oscar’s direction.

"Take a strike until you get a man in scoring position! Can you hear me? Take a strike until you get a man in scoring position! It's not that tough," he kept yelling at Oscar, until the pitcher was ready to throw the next pitch. Then he turned and directed his anger toward the rest of the team on the bench. The next pitch Oscar swung again this time, hitting a long homer to the upper deck. "Batboy!"

When Oscar got to the dugout after tying the game, Billy meet him at the top step.

"Take a strike until you get a man in scoring position. What was that?"

Oscar replied, "Billy every time I go to the plate I'm in scoring position."

The bench, including Billy, erupted into laughter.

When is a man in scoring position you ask? Depends who's at the plate.