Barkeep, a pesky top of the order hitter, is known by his fellow ballists as a guy who sacrifices life and limb to catch a fly ball. He has a fire in his stomach, not just because he has access to hard liquor from his job as bartender either. The Barkeep is always willing to speak his mind, sparking his teammates and making things happen on the ballfield with his dangerous speed and sometimes supernatural fielding abilities. He does it all while dedicated – rather than hit a cutoff he’s been known to run a ball all the way back to the infield. His banner moment came last year, when he showed up to play a vintage nine even though he was to be married in mere hours.
We took the opportunity to talk with Donnelly this week, and see what makes his vintage mind tick.
KEEP IT VINTAGE: Let's get the obvious out of the way. On the morning of the day of your wedding, you showed up to play some ball. Obviously that is multi-tasking but let me ask you this: did you ever think of rescheduling the wedding to an offday?
BARKEEP: I have my priorities; my wife's my life. Besides how could I say no to a beautiful woman who includes Oktoberfest and Amsterdam in our honeymoon plans?
KIV: You're generally considered one of the faster runners in the vintage game. Are you really fast or is everyone else really, really slow?
B: I'll take the pat on the back, but in all seriousness if the lads didn't support the tobacco peddlers so much we'd be a faster team. But yes, even without the smokes, I'd still out run the lot of them without spilling me beer.
KIV: A lot of people know you as a bartender. Compare mixing it up at the watering hole to mixing it up in the outfield.
B: Curious question...and I really don't think there is an eloquent answer for it. I guess with the off-season acquisition of the very talented Irish, first sack has really started to resemble The Field.
KIV: Tell me a little bit about how you first heard of vintage ball and became an Orator.
B: My great-grandfather shared fields with the Orator himself, so when our founding fathers held their initial meeting at the bar I tend, I was intrigued.
Then I overheard tales of barnstorming across New England and pictured flashy uniforms with hundreds of cranks cheering our efforts and lining up for our autographs. The Yankee blue uniforms sold me.
KIV: What's a better insult for an opposing team fielder who catches a fly ball on the bounce - nancy boy or a fancy lad?
B: I think we need to take a more aggressive approach than that. Those scallywags should to be tarred, feathered and thrown back into the kitchen where they belong. Maybe one of them can fix the run in my stockings.
The "10th inning" is a series of posts where we chew the fat with the Bridgeport Orators team and other vintage personalities.
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