Boyd May Be No. 2, but Her ERA Is Tops

One of the great things about softball was that it sounded easy. Soft ball. Soothing. Comforting. Reassuring.

Actual athletic skills were a bonus. Your usual softball lineup included a guy named Maury who played shortstop with a glove on one hand and a beer in the other. Maury would belch ground balls into submission.

The first baseman owned a gut that spilled over his Bermuda shorts. The second baseman always called himself “Scooter” and wore sandals. You stuck the worst player at catcher and prayed no one would hit anything toward your third baseman.

Your four outfielders included someone named Jim Bob Something-or-other, an all-state baseball player . . . 11 years and 63 pounds ago; another guy who wore regulation jersey and pants, shoe polish under his eyes, a Yankee cap and flip-up sunglasses and threw the ball like your Aunt Emma; some neighborhood kid who played because your one ringer forgot the game started at noon, and happy-go-lucky-we’re-only-here-to-have-a-good-time Larry, who always got thrown out for sliding with sharpened spikes raised while trying to break up a double play.

Which leaves only the pitcher. Our guy had a buzz cut, a tattoo from his days in the Marines and what I’m guessing to be some type of dog leashed to the dugout post. After each inning, the guy would sprint toward the tapped keg and quench his considerable thirst. By the fifth inning, pitches would roll toward home plate, all to the sounds of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

That is the world I knew, of weekend warriors clinging desperately to their youth. Americana personified. The beer-belly generation.

Now comes news of another breed, of Woodbridge High School’s Tiffany Boyd, a real softball player. How dare they lend some respectability and class to an otherwise fine sport?

Boyd led Woodbridge to the Pacific Coast League championship this season. She threw three perfect games and six no-hitters, struck out 341 batters, pitched 162 innings, chipped in two saves and also led the team in batting average, slugging percentage, runs batted in and on-base percentage. Next year, she’ll rid the world of hunger, invent a really good American microchip and find a way to prevent pesky wax buildup.

Even more incredible is Boyd’s earned-run average: There isn’t one. Goose eggs. Zeroes galore. A decimal point with nothing to do. Her ERA is 0.00, but her record is 17-4, mostly because of some errors. You know how some pitchers buy their teammates gifts after a memorable season? Boyd should look into getting them gloves.

Just a joke. Boyd is crazy about the Woodbridge nine. She says she wishes people would pay less attention to her and those gaudy statistics and more to the rest of the team.

“A lot of times, being a pitcher, I feel like everybody wants to beat me, not Woodbridge,” Boyd said. “You feel like a lot of times that the other team is gaming for you. There’s eight other people out there, but all they see is the pitcher.”

Just last Wednesday, against Laguna Beach, Boyd let loose with a pitch that sailed past the catcher and thumped loudly against the backstop. Wild pitch.

From the Laguna Beach dugout came: “She’s getting tired! She’s only throwing 65 (miles per hour) now!”

Later, when Boyd’s bid for a no-hitter was spoiled in the fourth inning, the Laguna batter received a standing ovation. In a way, they were applauding Boyd, too.

None of Boyd’s success came easily, mind you. All you have to do is glance at the strawberry-colored surgical scar near her right elbow and you know that much.

At the women’s major nationals last summer in Texas, Boyd pitched a 27-inning game. Not long after that, her elbow began to hurt. Doctors figured it was tendinitis.

By December, Boyd’s arm still ached. Examinations were scheduled, including a nerve conduction test. That was fun.

“They just jolt you to see what the nerve does,” Boyd said. “I was like totally crying. I’m not saying a word, but my eyes are watering.”

You’d cry, too, if your arm was flopping uncontrollably on a table, your playing career in jeopardy. Still, nothing, which meant more tests.

“I had muscle tests done,” Boyd said. “That was a joy. This one was even better than the last. They put needles in between your fingers and listen to it and measure it. But they found it. My nerve was trapped.”

So on Dec. 28, surgeons transposed Boyd’s ulnar nerve. Five months later, with what she calls a “worse arm,” Boyd has a remarkable 0.00 ERA and few complaints.

“What she is, is a gifted competitor,” said Don Sarno, a respected area softball pitching coach who also serves as a consultant for college recruiters in search of Southern California’s best playing talent. “She is probably one of the best overall players that’s going to be coming into college ball. If she had pitched Division I this year instead of having a senior year (of high school), she would have been right there with, I’d say, the top 10.”

Boyd is bound for UCLA. But no matter where she goes, there will be the inevitable comparisons with Valencia High’s Michelle Granger, who just happens to be possibly the best female softball pitcher in the world. For the last two seasons, Boyd has remained partially hidden by Granger’s achievements, which include all sorts of national and international awards, to say nothing of a riseball that flashes by home plate at about 73 mph. The rivalry will remain intact and in-state, though, with Boyd in Westwood and Granger in Berkeley at California.

“Her accomplishments surpass mine by leaps and bounds,” Boyd said. “In her career, she’s accomplished things that I dream about. I think she’s a great pitcher.”

Which pretty much ends all those Boyd-despises-Granger rumors. This isn’t to say Boyd is conceding. To the contrary. Nothing would please Boyd more than to better Granger’s resume and earn a spot on the next Pan-American Games team or the 1992 Olympic team.

And there’s one other aspiration.

“I want to learn how to do one of those backflips that (Ozzie Smith, St. Louis Cardinal shortstop) does,” Boyd said. “That is hot.”

It’s a deal. Smith teaches her the backflip. Boyd teaches him the dropball, fastball, riseball, screwball, curveball, knuckleball and changeup.