Just got through watching the 1980s classic movie “Big” on AMC, starring Tom Hanks as Josh Baskin, a 13-year-old suddenly stuck in the body of a grown-up thrust into the world of corporate America.
Josh amazingly zooms up the corporate ladder of a toy company, largely because unlike the adult workers around him, he is able to see the products through the eyes of a kid. After all, he IS a kid.
He quickly enjoys some of the advantages of being a grown-up — having money to spend, getting your own apartment, landing an adult girlfriend. But he also learns about other adult realities — including having to produce a product that will sell, the pressures of meeting deadlines and having to put work above play and your friends.
He visits a neighborhood much like his own, watches kids playing in a pile of fall leaves, a middle school class taking their yearbook picture on the lawn, boys playing baseball at the park.
Josh decides he wants to go back to being a kid again, and — unlike us — he is able to do that thanks to the “Zoltar” machine that turned him into a grown-up to begin with.
Unfortunately, there’s no Zoltar machine I know of that can do that in real life, but the closest thing I know of is sports. There’s something magical about a ballpark, a football field, a basketball court that makes me suddenly feel like a kid again.
I had the ultimate “big kid” experience twice last week, finally fulfilling a dream to watch a Chicago Cubs game at Wrigley Field. It was kind of exciting figuring out how we would get tickets, then finally getting them and walking into hurriedly into the ballpark to join the masses.
Wrigley Field is like an adult Disneyland — gotta be one of the happiest places on Earth. Everybody seems thrilled to be there, seems to check all their adult problems at the door. We (38,000 of us) cheered at every opportunity, we munched on peanuts and hot dogs, we all stood and sang “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” during the seventh-inning stretch.
For three hours, we all could be 13 years old again. In the middle of the game, I even busted out the lines immortalized by Ferris Bueller: “Sah-Wing! Battah-battah-battah-battah-battah, Sah-Wing, battah!” Then I turned to my friend sitting to me and said, “Do you realize if we played by the rules, we’d be in gym class right now?”
Sigh.
We can’t be 13 years old, or 15 or 17, forever, but we have sports outlets here in Hawai‘i that can briefly help us recapture some of those care-free feelings of youth. When I’m at a high school football game, I somehow feel younger. When I hear those bands playing the alma maters and fight songs, I sometimes drift back to those dreamy days when we laughed and played and had the world laid out in front of us for the taking.
It’s a good place to be.
Friday, Aug. 15, Kahuku vs. Kamehameha at Aloha Stadium.
Just got caught up reading the Sunday column by our editor-in-chief, Mark Platte, regarding the massive job cuts taking place in the newspaper industry throughout the country.
Depressing info, but not a total shock since I had heard about several of these cuts during conversations at last week’s UNITY convention in Chicago.
According to Platte, “the reasons for such a seismic shift … are complex, but mainly have to do with a lousy economy, the relatively small stream of print revenue switching to online newspaper Web sites, a younger generation abandoning the print product and other factors.
As for the “lousy economy,” there’s not much we can do except to “buy local,” as they say. I feel a bit hypocritical pushing that now, having just returned from a trip where I pumped a good chunk of my last paycheck into the Chicago economy.
But that is my last planned Mainland trip for 2008, and in recent years I have made more of an effort to “buy local” whenever possible. When I need bottled water from the mini-mart, I choose Menehune over Dasani, Evian or Arrowhead. On my last few trips to Vegas, I tried to limit my gambling to California Hotel or Main Street Station, knowing that even if I lose, the money had a good chance of coming back home anyway since most of the winners there are from Hawai‘i.
(As opposed to, say, losing money at MGM or Luxor and having it end up in the hands of a winner from Texas or Ohio or wherever. We may never see that money again)
Heck, Sunday night I even spent $13 at a place called “Aloha Grill” in the Chicago neighborhood of Lincoln Park. It’s owned by a Hawai‘i transplant, with several employees from Hawai‘i. (Had the barbecue mixed plate)
Now, as for “the relatively small stream of print revenue switching to online newspaper Web sites,” that is a problem I was hoping the industry leaders would have solved by now, since they are the ones who pushed us in the newsroom to do “more, more, more” for the Web site.
We’ve done our part, but where is the “more, more, more” revenue? I wish these things were figured out beforehand.
And finally, last but not least, there is the “younger generation abandoning the print product.”
This one particularly strikes a cord because the reason I got into this business in the first place is because the sports page — there was only the printed kind back then — was something I could not live without since I was 11 years old.
I even remember headlines from back then: “Yankees catcher (Thurman) Munson killed in plane crash”
Riding to school in the backseat of my parents’ car, I would read The Advertiser’s list of leading rushers and passers and receivers in the ILH and OIA, plus the Top 10 poll.
And, of course, on the weeks of league All-Star and All-State page layouts, I would grab it before even brushing my teeth, seconds after crawling out of bed.
And I know I wasn’t alone — after arriving at school, my friends and I would talk about what we read.
In college, I’d buy The Advertiser from a rack and read it on the steps of Campus Center in between classes. Again, I wasn’t the only one.
At Cal State Northridge, my dad would send me weekly sets of sports sections from The Advertiser and Star-Bulletin, and on Sundays all us Hawai‘i guys would gather at my friends’ apartment and pass the sections around to each other.
I guess, judging from the market studies and first-hand observations, young people don’t do these things anymore?
There’s SportsCenter several times a day, there’s Web sites for every team, there’s livestream video and YouTube.
How can we compete with that?
Local sports, including heavy high school coverage, is the only way. And until the industry leaders — umm, we’re still waiting, people — find out how to make a lot of money off our Web sites, the printed sports page product must be stronger than ever.
I promise I’ll do my best to keep it alive, since to me the printed sports page is a treasured thing.
Hopefully it means a lot to you as a sports fan, too, and we can pass this love of the sports page down to “the younger generation.”
I just got back from five busy days in Chicago, attending the “UNITY” convention for minority journalists. I have been a longtime member of the Asian American Journalists Association, a non-profit organization that promotes diversity and fair and accurate coverage in the newsroom and encourages minorities to enter the field and work toward management positions.
AAJA and the other minority journalist organizations — for blacks, hispanics and Native Americans — hold their own conventions every year but during an election year, we combine our conventions into one giant gathering called UNITY.
I have attended 10 of the past 13 AAJA conventions, including the past three UNITY events. The first, and most important, AAJA convention I attended was in 1996 at St. Paul, Minn.
I say it was the most important one because the reason I attended was to look for a job. A main feature of the convention is a job fair, where attendees can do face-to-face interviews with and present their resumes/clips to recruiters representing newspapers and news organizations from all over the country.
I was at a crossroads in my professional life, having worked at a community newspaper for five years but also having dabbled at going back to school for a possible career change. The 1996 AAJA job fair was to be my big shot at landing a daily newspaper job on the Mainland, with the idea that it could eventually lead to a full-time reporting gig back home at The Advertiser or Star-Bulletin.
(Openings at both Honolulu dailies were few and far between)
Well, I interviewed with 17 different papers/news organizations in three days, and four months later I finally got an offer to join a small daily newspaper in Boca Raton, Fla.
I jumped at the opportunity, and it set me on the path that eventually led to my current job here at The Advertiser.
I am forever grateful for that and other opportunities made possible by AAJA, and that is why I volunteer my time and money to the organization to this day.
Thankfully, I haven’t had to pound the pavement at the job fair since 1998, but attending the conventions still serves an important purpose in my career. Most importantly, it has renewed my faith in my career choice and rejuvenates me for the long, grueling school year ahead.
This year, maybe more than ever, there were questions about whether it’s worth it to stay in this industry. Despite what people may think, it is a demanding field that requires a lot of personal sacrifice with not always great rewards, monetary or otherwise.
Less than a week before I left for Chicago, The Advertiser announced it was cutting 54 jobs, including three full-time and one part-time employee from the newsroom.
Throughout the convention, I learned about similar cuts (recent or pending) across the country, from Florida to Oregon to San Jose and Los Angeles.
It’s enough to make someone say, “Why am I still doing this? There must be a better, less stressful and more rewarding way to make a living …”
But then I see and hang out with my colleagues from across the nation, people I admire and respect for their educational background, intelligence, dedication and enthusiasm for their craft. Some of these people have degrees from the Ivy League, Stanford, UCLA.
I would imagine some could have been doctors, lawyers, engineers, or financial advisors, business vice-presidents or college professors.
But they, like myself, somehow love to find and report news. So despite long and strange work schedules, accumulating predictions of doom in the industry, layoffs of our fellow workers, enduring public criticism, we trudge on.
Don’t get me I wrong, many people have decided to leave this field on their own for greener and happier pastures, and I don’t blame them. In 1995, I seriously considered doing the same and even took a small, brief step in that direction.
Were it not for the 1996 job fair in St. Paul and the offer from Florida four months later, who knows what I would be doing now?
But here I am, and I am glad.
Prep football practice officially started Monday, which means my long and busy work weeks are right around the corner. It wasn’t much of a summer vacation at all, but that’s OK.
This is the life I have chosen, the life my hundreds of AAJA colleagues have chosen, and seeing and spending time with them the past five days inspired me as usual.
Today is another day, another school year, the starting gun of my annual 11-month marathon.
As someone mentioned in a comment in the previous post, Jesse Sapolu told the “Sports Animals” on Friday afternoon’s show that he pays $800 out of pocket just so his son can play football for a public school in California.
Co-host Chris Hart added that he pays a nominal fee — maybe $80-$100 — so his daughter can play basketball at Christian Academy.
Hopefully, this is not where we are headed with public school JV sports in Hawai‘i. There have been some suggestions about where else to find the $1 million that is proposed to be cut from the DOE athletic budget. Almost everybody agrees that you cannot cut from the classroom instead, especially core subjects.
But people have pointed to other programs, such as art or music. Some say the DOE should trim perceived administrative or clerical fat.
As we at The Advertiser are finding out the hard way, however, pretty much everybody thinks that their job is essential and pretty much nobody thinks they or their department should take the hit.
So, one solution is to have players — or, more accurately, their parents — pay to play, just as Sapolu and Hart do.
Sounds simple, but how many kids will be shut out if their parents simply can’t come up with the $800, or even $80-$100?
If even one kid cannot play due to such a fee, then this “solution” won’t work, because what if that one kid might have been the next Jesse Sapolu?
I agree that it still beats not having any JV sports at all, as Sapolu pointed out, but I see “pay for play” only as a very last resort.
Before it gets to that point, and assuming the $1 million cut cannot be avoided, I would suggest:
• Trimming spending, in any way possible. This means going through sport by sport, item by item. Coaches’ polo shirts? Sorry, just wear your own shirt from the closet (hopefully it’s the right color). Practice jerseys? Hey, for boys, shirts and skins works at the park.Same thing with warm-up sweats — in Hawai‘i, T-shirts work fine.
Encourage players to bring and use their own equipment (basketballs, volleyballs, etc.) when possible. The point is, there probably are a lot of “want-to-have” items as opposed to “need-to-have” items in every program. If 20 sports can save even $200 each, that’s $4,000 each school. Times 25 schools, that’s $100,000.
Every little bit helps.
• Sponsored programs. There already are some sponsorship opportunities out there, like the Kraft Shop-and-Score at Times Supermarkets, where the community can help raise money for uniforms, equipment. Other businesses and individuals can help, too.
• Fund-raising. I know, I know. There’s already a lot of it going on year-round, and it is taxing physically and mentally on the parents/volunteers. I’ve been running a fund-raising basketball league the past four weeks, and I know what kind of commitment and headaches come with the job. But a lot of Hawai‘i people are willing to chip in for good causes, so it’s usually worth the effort if that is what’s needed.
Many concessions do well, we sold huli-huli chicken tickets in high school, I’ve paid for car washes. One co-worker helped raise a lot of money for Project Graduation just by collecting and recycling cans.
• Charge for parking. I know, I know, this would be a nuisance, because nowdays it seems nothing is free anymore. But they do it at college and pro games, and it generates a lot of revenue. Even if a school charged $1 per car to park on campus, you could be looking at maybe $300-$500 for a football doubleheader.
• Raise admission prices. Yeah, see above. But an extra dollar or two per person can add up while still not being enough to discourage a person or a family from coming to the game.
• Donation box. Have one at the entrance at every game. Every bit counts.
• Shortening the schedules. Instead of the top five teams in the OIA divisions making the playoffs, make it just the top four. Instead of having White Conference playoffs, just declare the regular season champ as champ. Or have the East champ vs. West champ play for the title, if applicable. These are just some ideas for brainstorming.
I don’t have all the answers, but again I would rather see things like these than charging kids to play or cutting out the programs altogether.
Hopefully, the DOE will find other ways to save $1 million without affecting JV sports at all. It happened in 2003.
But since this issue has come up twice in five years, you probably can expect it to come up again in the near future even if the programs are spared this time around.
The community has spoken loudly in the past week objecting to cutting JV sports. But if they really don’t want it to happen, the community eventually will have to step up itself and not just hope and pray the state and DOE will always find a way to keep the sports programs alive.
By definition, high school sports falls under the category often called “extra-curricular” or “co-curricular” activity, which means as a priority it falls behind classroom needs. That is understandable.
But it also means that when the budget axe drops, sports is one of the first areas to be cut.
And that is not just unfortunate; it is scary.
Because what high school sports — including, and maybe especially, JV sports — really are is a drug and gang and dropout prevention program. As such, the state would be treading some sad and even dangerous waters by eliminating them.
This proposal came up several years ago, and thankfully the JV and perepheral varsity sports were spared at the last minute.
We all better hope the same thing happens this time.
This issue strikes a cord particularly because to this day, I still consider my JV basketball experience to be a life-changing time for me. I was 15 years old, had just been cut from a JV summer league team at the end of my freshman year.
My grades were not good, I didn’t play any other sport and did not participate in any other school activity. My passion, my lifeblood, was basketball.
That summer, I faithfully attended Dennis Agena’s clinic at Kalakaua Gym three times a week, never missed one practice, and even signed up for a short-lived 3-on-3 “league” at Boys Club. That fall, I still went to Agena’s three times a week — riding TheBus for one hour after school to get there on weekdays — and on the off days would run two or three miles along Date Street or the Ala Wai Canal to get into better shape.
From the first day of school, I circled “Nov. 14″ on the calendar, knowing that was the first day of JV tryouts.
When that day came, I was ready. All the drills they made us do, I had already done hundreds of times at Kalakaua. At the end of the gym session they had us go out to the track and run a few timed 400-meter sprints. I breezed through them.
The next day at school, while my friends were gingerly walking around campus with aching muscles, I was fresh and ready to go again.
At the end of the fourth day of tryouts, I remember the coaches calling players over one-by-one to the bench. When my name was called, I sat on the floor in front of them with beads of sweat running down my face. There were 35 players trying out, with only 14 roster spots.
And I will never forget those magical words: “We’re going to keep you.”
I’ll never forget telling my parents the good news, never forget how proud and happy they were. The next morning at school, the coach posted the roster on the window outside the counseling office, and I went by to look several times during the day to make sure my name was still there.
All my hard work the previous five months, training like a prizefighter, finally had paid off. My coaches — the same ones who cut me in May — told me so.
I can honestly say it changed my life, and the way I looked at life. To this day, whenever I’m facing a tough situation or others doubt my abilities or chances of accomplishing a goal, I always draw back on that experience and tell myself, “If I stay focused and keep working hard, I can do it.”
I cannot imagine how my life would have been different if there were no JV team to try out for back then.
I cannot imagine how many lives will be changed if the DOE eliminates JV sports now.
Don’t know exactly why, but John Hao was kind of a surprise choice to me when Saint Louis announced him as its new head coach Tuesday afternoon.
Maybe it shouldn’t have been a surprise, considering he was offered the job five years ago and has been on staff for the past 11 seasons. I guess I was swayed by the speculation and assumed it would be either Sam Papali‘i or Ulima Afoa.
But under the circumstances, I don’t know if the Crusaders could have made a better choice.
The official start of practice is July 28, less than two weeks away. It would be extremely tough for someone coming in from the outside and assembling a staff and implementing a system that fast.
With Hao, most of the staff and system remains the same, making it a smoother transition for the players.
Hao, a former Advertiser State Co-Offensive Player of the Year (in 1990, with Mark Atuaia), knows what Saint Louis football is all about as well as anyone. The job is not for everybody, and it’s a special program.
The retention of Delbert Tengan’s staff, or most of it, is critical as Hao acknowledged. The players have come and gone, but the continuity and consistency of Saint Louis’ coaching staff has been one of the keys to the Crusaders’ success.
One key point mentioned by Hao is discipline, and unfortunately it became an issue again this past year with some football players getting into off-field trouble. Whether their actions had anything to do with football is debatable, but I’m sure the administration — from the top down — made discipline a point of emphasis and Hao agrees it will be a priority.
Of course, winning still is the best formula for approval. Tengan won a ton of games (48 in five years) but some in the Saint Louis faithful tend to focus on the back-to-back state championship losses.
If Saint Louis wins those games (just change the final two minutes of each), maybe Delbert is still the head coach and we wouldn’t even be talking about a change at the top.
But what happened, happened, and now John Hao is at the helm.
If history is an indicator, the Crusaders should be just fine and will be an ILH and state contender again, as usual.
I’m one of those still getting over the shock and sadness upon hearing that Joe Tom Jr. passed away Friday night.
Ever since I wrote my first story about Castle baseball for the Sun Press way back in March 1992 — over 16 years ago! — Joe was a key part of that program, so I almost cannot imagine Knights baseball without him. Even with a reduced role the past two seasons, he was always there and always ready to talk story.
I remember always seeing his dark gray/charcoal truck parked in the dirt/gravel leading to Castle’s field … it seemed to be always there, as a clear sign that Joe was there, too.
I would see him there until just before nightfall after weekday practices, on Saturday mornings, in the summer, whenever. He was always willing and eager to talk baseball, sitting on a bucket just outside the equipment shed. I remember when son Kainoa, a 2008 Advertiser All-State second team shortstop, was just a preschooler playing in the dirt nearby.
Other memories:
• Joe explaining to me why an ace pitcher was no longer on the team, then saying, “I mean, I not going beg …”
• Talking story in the first base dugout during one batting practice, as Gerard Gier (1993) launched a bomb to the rock wall in straight center. It was enough to stop Joe in mid-sentence, not a common thing. “Oh my God,” he said in awe, tracking the ball with his eyes, “did you see that?”
• Gier, whom I guess had a knack for stopping Joe in mid-sentence, driving the golf cart around the bases to drag the infield and gassing it toward the dugout before slamming the brakes to a screeching halt, then playfully flashing a grin at Joe, who responded with a disbelieving silent stare, followed by a shake of the head.
• The 1994 state championship team, with 5-foot-6 ace lefty Troy Yoshimasu throwing 80 mph gas. They took third or fourth in the OIA but rallied past Kalaheo and Alika Smith in the state championship game. Those few weeks might have been the happiest I’ve ever seen Joe; I remember him talking about the team banquet at Queen Kapi‘olani Hotel, about the ono food (crab legs?) in the buffet line … his youngest son was born right about that time, too.
• Joe being so close to and proud of his dad, who was a uniformed member of his staff throughout most if not all of those years. His dad and my dad are the same age, so I could relate to the stories about Joe Tom Sr., a great athlete in his time. Joe would describe the winning play in the college all-star football game — a touchdown pass by his dad — as if he were there.
• Joe describing every baseball play in intricate detail, using his hands to point to exact locations and re-enact player movements.
• Joe at his third base coaching spot, showing the hitter the proper hip and hands movement and then shouting encouragement.
• Joe talking about the teachers’ strike in 2001, which must have pained him because it happened right in the middle of baseball season and his son Jordan was Castle’s starting shortstop. “We have to think of the future,” he said, diplomatically.
• Joe’s wife worked for Hawaiian Airlines, so he could fly almost free on standby, and he would talk of flying to Los Angeles just for a day to look at jerseys or equipment.
• Joe doing color commentary on OC16. He looked very happy doing it, being at the ballpark and talking baseball to an audience at home.
• Joe taking tickets at the Castle football games, still wearing that familiar maroon cap with the “C” on it.
As newspaper reporters, we would much rather have a coach who maybe talked too much than too little, so Joe was always a favorite of mine. I never forgot how accomodating he always was even from the beginning, when I was a fresh-out-of-college rookie reporter for a weekly community newspaper.
There probably were times over the years when, being on a tight deadline, I probably should have cut our in-person or phone conversation short, but I never did. It happened as recently as May, during the OIA playoffs at CORP.
And now I’m glad I listened to every word.
Because I definitely will miss talking with Joe Tom Jr., I’ll miss his presence at Castle and his enthusiasm for baseball.
High school ball was fun. College was a thrill. The Pan Am Games were an honor.
Now, this is business. This is Derrick Low’s big chance to live out the dream of every Hawai‘i kid who dribbled a ball at the playground, shot at a basket in the driveway or back yard.
It’s his chance to hook on to an NBA team.
Low begins play in the NBA Summer League in Las Vegas today (Friday), at 4 p.m. Hawai‘i time. He’ll be with the Dallas Mavericks when they take on the Los Angeles Clippers at UNLV’s Cox Pavilion, wearing jersey No. 1. The game will be televised live on NBATV (Oceanic sports package Channel 242) or on streaming video at www.nba.com/summerleague 2008
It’ll be a long shot for him to make the Mavs’ final roster this fall, but it’s a shot, and that’s all he can ask for.
I’m not sure how they usually distribute the playing time in these summer leagues; Julian Sensley got 10 minutes in his summer league debut with the Golden State Warriors in 2006. I would think D-Low would get at least some PT, because the whole purpose of this league is to take a close look at what the rookies and free agents can do in game situations and see if they will be worth inviting to fall camp.
I see three other point guards on the Mavs’ 16-man roster: Keith McLeod, Aaron Miles, JaJuan Smith.
McLeod (6-2, Bowling Green) has 200 games worth of NBA experience, including 88 starts. He also played for Mavs coach Rick Carlisle when both were with the Indiana Pacers. He is 28 and will be 29 on Nov. 5, just when the season starts.
Miles (6-0, Kansas) also has NBA experience (one year). Smith (6-2) is an undrafted rookie out of Tennessee.
“JaJuan is just a freakish scorer that can put the ball in the basket,” Mavs coach Rick Carlisle said on the team Web site. “Every team in the NBA is looking for that. He was a very high consideration for us with our draft pick.”
Another guard, Lithuanian Ronnie Seibutis, is 6-5 and more of a combo guy.
“He kind of reminds you of a younger Doug Collins,” Carlisle said. “He can play the 2 and swing over to the 1, he’s athletic, a playmaker and high-energy guy. We’re anticipating a good summer league for him.”
So as you can see, it’s pretty crowded at the point guard spot and the competition is stiff. But Low has been through a similar situation, just last year in fact.
He survived a 32-player tryout to make the 12-man Pan Am Games roster, then was the team’s leading scorer in the USA’s final three games after disappointingly getting almost no PT in the first two games.
He showed patience and the ability to perform when called on then, and he will have to do it now.
As stated a few main posts earlier, it can be hard nowdays to find long-term high school coaches, people who stay long enough to really make a mark on the program and even the community.
But it looks to me like Mililani got itself a pretty good baseball hire in Mark Hirayama.
Despite never having been a high school head coach, Hirayama is a familiar figure to almost everybody in local high school baseball. He’s been involved just about continuously ever since he graduated from UH in 1990, as an assistant for 10 years at Punahou with Pal Eldredge and then at Mililani under Glenn Nitta and then the past four seasons at Kamehameha under Vern Ramie.
So he definitely knows the territory.
And Hirayama especially knows Mililani, since he lives there and has a son who plays in the town’s youth program.
“I had a feeling he would get the job, because it’s a good fit,” Ramie said Monday. “He did a little bit of everything for us, so it’s a big loss, but I’m happy he’ll be getting this opportunity.”
I was surprised to learn there were only four applicants for the job, because Mililani has to be one of the most attractive programs to take over. The school has outstanding facilities, and the baseball field and amenities rival that of any private school.
The community’s youth program is very deep and strong, with a lot of talent feeding into the high school even after some migrate to the ILH.
They have strong community and administrative support, with Nitta — now the athletic director — having built the program from scratch in the 1970s.
The potential is enormous, with much of the groundwork already laid to build a powerhouse.
Should be very interesting to see what Hirayama can do with his first head coaching opportunity …
In softball, probably even more so than baseball, a good pitcher can take you a long way. Just look at how far Amber Waracka took Kamehameha in the state tournament with three lights-out performances.
A softball pitcher, unlike her baseball counterpart, can often start and finish two, three or even four games in one week.
And when you have a pitcher like that who can start as a freshman, man, you’re set for four years.
That’s what Mililani and Moanalua had in Makani Duhaylonsod and Sarah Robinson, respectively. Somebody reliable you could send out time and again, confident that they will hold the other team down to one, two or maybe three runs. A lot of times, it was zero.
But now, both Duhaylonsod and Robinson have graduated. Talk about big shoes to fill.
Obviously, pitchers like these don’t come around too often, so it will be interesting to see who emerges next season. Kamehameha is one of the few programs to not really skip a beat in the pitcher’s circle since 2002. After Advertiser State Player of the Year Leo Sing Chow graduated, Brandi Peiler and Kate Robinson combined to fill the void, and then Noe Esperas kept it going until 2007, when Waracka took over as the ace.
Kailua won an OIA championship in 2006, the year after four-year starter Courtney Kessell graduated, and Krista Dumandan and Ashley Hopfe did a relatively good job helping fill that void. But certainly, the Surfriders program is still trying to recapture the dominance of the Kessell era.
Pearl City, the 2006 state champ, still has not recovered since losing a senior class led by pitchers/third basemen Marina Gusman-Brown and Corrie Nishikida. And last year’s state champ, Baldwin, is still rebuilding after graduating four-year ace Nicole Alconcel.
Duhaylonsod and Robinson both burst onto the scene as freshmen in the 2005 state tournament, and have been fixtures in their respective programs ever since. Duhaylonsod helped the Trojans win the state title in ‘05, and Robinson helped Moanalua emerge as a state contender.
As time went on, both got steadily better not just as pitchers but also as hitters, to the point where each became one of the league’s most dangerous sluggers.
Waracka also leaves a big void at Kamehameha, so with no real dominant pitcher on the horizon, it should be a very interesting 2009 softball season.
