I can name a couple of the great switch hitters pretty easily. The Mick, of course, and Eddie Murray both come to mind first. A little googling brought back Chipper Jones (who, did you know, has a son named Shea in part because he hit so well in Shea Stadium against the Mets?), Pete Rose (I forgot!), and Maury Wills. But what about switch pitchers?

Yeah, you heard me.

I bet you never saw one pitch. I haven’t. A switch pitcher is one who can pitch as both a right hander and a left hander. He will switch batter to batter depending on whether the batter is a righty or lefty. (Right-handed batters generally hit better against left-handed pitchers, and vicey-versy. So a switch pitcher would pitch as a righty against a right-handed batter, and face a lefty as a lefty.)

The only pitcher who pitched on a regular basis as a switch pitcher in the major leagues since 1901 was Pat Venditte, from 2015 to 2020. He was drafted in 2008 by the Yanks and pitched as a reliever for six different teams, appearing in 61 games with a 4.73 ERA. A handful of others (pun intended) have done so in other pro leagues, and Greg Harris did it once in the majors, in relief for Montreal in 1995 in the penultimate game of his career. He faced three batters, retiring one as a righty, and then walking one and getting one out as a lefty.

Switch pitchers use a specially designed glove that can be worn on either hand. A question I haven’t resolved is who has to commit first when a switch pitcher is facing a switch hitter. I’d guess the batter does.

I can’t say who is currently pitching as a switch pitcher in the minors. Not because I don’t know who it is, but because his name is unpronounceable. It’s Jurrangelo Cijntje. Actually, the last name is pronounced Sain-ja and his nickname is Loo. He was born in the Netherlands, is Curacaoan, and has lived in the U.S. since he was sixteen (he’s 21 now), and pitched college ball for Mississippi State. He speaks fluent English, Dutch, Spanish, and Papiamento, the latter of which is also a condiment (no it’s not).

Loo is a top-ten prospect for the Mariners, currently assigned to the Everett (WA) Aquasox. He looked very good in his first outing: four scoreless innings with six Ks. We’ve asked our sports consultant Sarah F. to keep an eye on the young man for us, although we’re not clear she understands the difference between Washington as a state and Washington as a district. She’ll get it — we’re not worried (much).

Loo looks like a good kid.

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You’ve all heard of March Madness, of course, but this year it’s really meshuggah. Three of the head coaches in the men’s final four are Jewish! When’s the last time a Jewish head coach won? Good question — 1988: Larry Brown with Kansas. Of course, it’s not in the bag yet. The fourth coach could win. He’s Kelvin Sampson with Houston. And, get this — Sampson’s Native American. The three boychiks are Bruce Pearl (Auburn), Todd Golden (Florida), and Jon Scheyer (Duke).

Update: Florida and Houston won in the Semis: So it’s Golden vs. Sampson tonight. Go Gators! And we’ll say Kaddish for Auburn and Duke.

Here’s Todd, whose mom must be kvelling.

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Wha hoppin’ mon?

The last time we saw Wink — Jesse Winker — he looked like an Earthling. Here he is with Mrs. Wink.

We’ve been following him since he was on the Gnats last year and did well enough to get traded to the Mets mid-season where he’s been a decent part of their offense. But what has he done to himself? That’s him below, with massive amounts of hair all over the place. That’s okay, Wink — just keep stroking those hits — we love you!

And we love you too, UCONN women! Kudos on coasting to the title. Bueckers, Fudd, and Strong scored 65 of the team’s 82 points, with Azzi (Fudd) named MVP. Paige is off to the pros now. Hope we still get to see her play now and then.

You may have heard about the hug? “He told me he loved me and I told him I hated him. … Nah, I love that man more than words can describe.”

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One of the things that makes me decide to share a poem here on Owl Chatter is that it doesn’t make an effort to let me know that it’s a poem.

This one is by Tom Hennen. It’s from today’s Writer’s Almanac and is called “Plains Spadefoot Toad.”

Toads are smarter than frogs. Like all of us who are not good-
looking they have to rely on their wits. A woman around the
beginning of the last century who was in love with frogs wrote
a wonderful book on frogs and toads. In it she says if you place
a frog and a toad on a table they will both hop. The toad will
stop just at the table’s edge, but the frog with its smooth skin
and pretty eyes will leap with all its beauty out into nothing-
ness. I tried it out on my kitchen table and it is true. That may
explain why toads live twice as long as frogs. Frogs are better at
romance though. A pair of spring peepers were once observed
whispering sweet nothings for thirty-four hours. Not by me.
The toad and I have not moved.

Hrrrrrrumph.

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On measles: GOP Senator Bill Cassidy (R-LA), a medical doctor, posted: “Everyone should be vaccinated! Top health officials should say so unequivocally b/4 another child dies.”

D’oh! Just a smidge too late, Doc — a second death has been announced.

Dr. Senator! Dr. Senator! A question: Do you think there is blood on your hands for voting to confirm an obvious lunatic to head HHS? Kennedy, for his part, has touted Vitamin A to combat measles. It’s already had some results — a hospital in Texas says it is now treating children for toxic levels of Vitamin A. [I’m not kidding.]

I remember when our poor Sam had the measles. It was a bad case but we never worried that he might die. They even spread to the bottom of his feet, so it was hard for him to walk. Linda was up with him in the middle of the night, and suggested they treat themselves to cookies and ice cream. They were sitting at the table, miserable, and Sam, who is always so sweet, looked up at her and in his squeaky little-boy voice said: “At least we’re having a nice midnight snack.”

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Today’s puzzle is a good example of a blah theme. That’s surprising since the brilliant Jeff Chen is a co-constructor. The theme is “ten to one odds” and the long answers all have the letters t-e-n and o-n-e embedded in them, and they start in odd-numbered squares. E.g., at 45A the clue is “Instruments for John Coltrane and Sonny Rollins,” and the answer is TENor saxophONEs.

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Dull Men’s Club (UK), Part 1.

Lee Fricker of the DMC (UK) writes: I seem to have reached an incredibly sad moment in my life. At the tender age of just 37 years old I proceeded to engage in a massive sneeze and in doing so, pulled a muscle in my neck as a result of the contortion. Am I to be expecting this for the rest of my life now?

Ed Ward: Oh brother, I’m 45 and I pulled a neck muscle the other day yawning in the morning. If I stretch to get a sock out the back of the washing machine it’s 50/50 whether I’ll pull my shoulder.

Tricia Ballinger: Give it a few more years and when you sneeze you’ll be wetting yourself too.

Claire Lorraine Payne: Or worse.

Daniel Wakley: Hoarding tramadol and morphine is the way forward.

John Stephney: You poor sod, most of us make it to 40 before it starts to go wrong

Martin Lacey: I’m 25 years older than you, you have no idea of the delights the future has in store for you. I have to kneel a lot at work, every time I stand up my knee makes a noise like a car door slamming.

Avi Liveson: Per Philip Roth: Old age is not a battle; it’s a massacre.

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Dull Men’s Club (UK), Part 2.

Emma Morton-Doe (DMC(UK)) writes:

“You’re weird you are! You will spend loads a money on a book but not £8 on some concrete chicken ornaments for the garden.” Said my husband to me. Who’s in the right here? I mean, who wants concrete chicken ornaments in the garden?

Neale Rumble: Nobody, but nobody needs any concrete chickens… nor concrete rabbits or hedgehogs or badgers!

Jack Sayer: Says who? I’ve got 3 concrete monkeys in my garden which my wife “tolerates.” She spends a fair bit on books. I feel his pain. She drew the line at a life-size Cleopatra mind. 

Avi Liveson: What’s a Cleopatra mind?

Ashley Gray: Similar to Bette Davis eyes.

[What?]

Ashley: Jack, I’ve got a concrete cat and frog… I’ll swap you the cat for one of your monkeys…

Jack: Sorry, I’ve got a concrete cat too, but the wife is OK with that. One real frog spotted, plus a load of tadpoles, so I think we’re full. Thanks for the offer though.

Ashley: Fiddlesticks!

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Can’t top a concrete chicken. See you tomorrow Chatterheads. Go Gators!