LPGA Tour star throws out first ball at Phillies game in conjunction with 2009 U.S. Women’s Open Adopt-A-Player program
By Ken Klavon, USGA
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New pal: Paula Creamer stands relieved after delivering the first pitch to the Philly Phanatic prior to the Reds-Phillies game Monday. (John Mummert/USGA) |
Philadelphia – The anxiety creased Paula Creamer’s face.
She gripped the rough edges of the ball with her manicured fingers, hoping to develop some kind of symbiotic relationship. To borrow from the infamous Ty Webb, ‘Be the ball, be the ball’ resonated within.
Only this wasn’t at Saucon Valley Country Club, as she prepares for her seventh U.S. Women’s Open this week. And it wasn’t while standing over a pressure-packed putt to win an important championship.
Although she wished it were.
“I’d rather have a long downhill putt to win the Women’s Open than do this,” she said from behind home plate Monday night at Citizens Bank Park, home of the world-champion Philadelphia Phillies. “I’m more nervous about throwing this out than I would be playing in the Women’s Open.”
After all, Creamer, 22, was outside her comfort zone that normally is a golf course. In this case, she was on hand to throw out the first pitch before the Phillies faced the Cincinnati Reds. Her participation, sealed in March through one of her sponsors' ties to the Phillies, coincided with a unique “Adopt-A-Player" educational program that began in September and included 4,000 students from 171 classes at 76 schools in eastern Pennsylvania.
Twenty-five LPGA Tour players participated in the year-long program. Creamer was one of those 25.
Prior to throwing out the first pitch, Creamer got the chance to meet students from Bethlehem’s St. Jane Francis and St. Annes in a front office conference room. More than 80 people greeted her, 19 of those students wearing ‘Paula’s Pink Panther’ T-shirts that were developed months ago to show their support for Creamer. After frequent electronic correspondences, Creamer said she had been looking forward to meeting her faceless friends.
The project pleased Emilie Heesen, a fourth-grade teacher at St. Anne’s, because it touched on core areas of education, such as geography, language arts, social studies and math. When Creamer traveled to Thailand, for example, her students tracked her through the Arctic Circle during her polar flight route. Creamer, with her dad’s input, would look for ways to be creative in each message. Usually she’d end with a riddle that the students needed to solve by the next time she wrote.
“We built lesson plans around it,” said Heesen. “But it evolved; we let it evolve.”
Creamer addressed the children and welcomed questions. Soon attention turned toward the looming first pitch, with one person prodding her, kiddingly, to throw a 90 mph fastball.
“The only way it will be 90 miles per hour,” quipped Creamer, “is if I can use my golf club.”
After signing hats, programs, balls and shirts, along with posing for group photos, Creamer and her entourage headed back to relax in an area in the front offices.
An Oakland A’s fan growing up in the Bay Area and self-admitted Rickey Henderson fan, Creamer revealed she had been practicing for three weeks. “I just need to practice and warm up,” Creamer chuckled.
Here?
In the front offices, with the 1980 Commissioner’s Trophy encased nearby (the 2008 World Series trophy was nowhere to be found)?
Creamer’s agent, Jay Burton, scurried down a hallway to assume the catching position. Creamer reared back and … tossed the ball by Burton’s wayside. The ball rolled about 75 yards down the hall.
Could this be an omen?
Nerves were discernible. It may not have helped earlier when Dennis Brown, a Phillies corporate account executive, offered advice when she was viewing batting practice.
“Here’s what you do,” said Brown. “Throw the ball a little higher than you would normally.”
Brown has coordinated many ‘first pitches’ and has seen what nerves can do: throws in the dirt and wild tosses. He even shared a couple of horrifying stories on an elevator ride up, to which Creamer laughed and said she didn’t need to hear any more.
By the time Burton retrieved the ball, Brown had presented Creamer with a hat and custom-made Phillies jersey with her name on the back.
Brown then indicated “it was time.” A look of panic swept Creamer’s face.
On the field, she watched as her “catcher” for this all-important pitch went through a series of harebrained high-jinks. The Philly Phanatic, the fuzzy green mascot, jumped off his motorbike and stumbled up to the plate. Creamer waved to the crowd, bantered with the Phanatic before taking a deep breath. Her parents, watching by the Reds dugout, stood still.
Creamer, just off the rubber, wound up and …. fired a dart chest-high to the Phanatic.
Relief!
The Phanatic engulfed her, mimicking kisses. Creamer, all smiles, strode back toward the dugout while also adding a bit of baseball superstition, choosing to hop over the third base foul line.
And? Still more nerve-racking than playing in a U.S. Women’s Open?
“It went by so fast, it was a blur,” said Creamer. “I got all worked up for nothing.”
Somewhere in that last statement lies another lesson her pen pals could learn.
Ken Klavon is the editor of digital media for the USGA. E-mail him with questions or comments at kklavon@usga.org.
