Still Exists / Baseball Story (Live)

Okay I'll do one more song

[Verse 1]

I saw your raincoat on my porch today, crumbled up next to my feet

Must admit it seemed kind of strange, ‘cause it hasn't rained here in weeks. 

Funny how things in life can be like rain. Between sun and storm we don't know what is best. 

Oh, the rain, it is long gone, but your rain coat still exists. 

[Verse 2]

And I've been growing my beard out. I got it all soft like it was with us. 

I know you never never liked my hairy face until it was close enough to touch. 

Funny how things in life can be like hair: we remove them but they just come back so thick. 

Oh your touch, it is long gone, but my beard still exists. 

[Spoken]

I rеmember when I was a kid I rеad this book on performing and it said, uh, open your show with your second biggest hit and close the show with your biggest hit. And as soon as I get some hits I can't wait to take advantage of that. But for now it’s a free-for-all. I have no business closing the show with this song but I do it, uh, to just honor this little guy because this is a song I wrote back in my career where playing at The Aladdin was inconceivable. And I want to just give it a little light. 

Back then, you know, I used to- I couldn't have shows like this. My draw was zero. What I would do is I would drive around the country and find coffee shops and bars where people already were and then I would sneak in and start playing and hope that they didn't leave. That was my technique

And after the shows, unless- if someone didn't give me a couch to sleep on, I would just get in my Astro Van and I would drive to the next city and then I'd fall asleep when I needed to sleep on the side of the road

I remember this one night I was driving through the deserts of New Mexico and I passed by this Jiffy Lube. It was a late night alone on the highway and this Jiffy Lube marquee was shining really bright. And up there where it normally says something like “half off oil changes”, this time it said this, it said, “if you haven't failed lately you haven't been trying.” Which I thought was pretty heavy for a Jiffy Lube. And it resonated with me. 

But I don't trust Jiffy Lube, you know, because I'll be going there for oil changes and they're always trying to upsell you on something you know? Trying to say shit like, “uh we noticed your displacement fluid was low. We could fill that for you.” You’d be like, “ah there ain't no such thing as displacement fluid.” And then 2 weeks later a light goes on you're like, “aw shit is that my displacement fluid?”

“If you haven't failed lately you haven't been trying.” It spoke to me, you know, ‘cause I had failed lately a lot. That night I had failed. I played in a coffee shop to just one person. And if you're musician you know playing to one person is worse than playing to no persons. ‘Cause if you play to an empty room, it's fine. You can pretend it didn't happen like that tree that falls in the woods when no one hears it. But when there's one person there, ain't no pretending. And it's always awkward 'cause that one person usually comes up after the show and tries to offer you some words of encouragement. In this particular night, I know he was trying to be- trying to make me feel better but what he said is- he said, uh, “Hey kid, don't worry. Van Gogh didn't get success until after he died.” I was like, “oh cool. Thanks man.”

That's how it was man. And I was driving under that sign and I was thinking about all that stuff. And back then, you know, it was not a question of whether or not I was going to make it. Clearly I was not. But I was going to go down swinging. 'Cause I like to swing. And I was having fun swinging. And there had been a time in my childhood where I had gone down swinging and everyone had won and before I leave tonight I want to tell you that story. 

[Harmonica]

See I played all the sports as a little boy, and I was bad at all of them. But the one I was worse at was baseball. See, baseball's tough because if you suck in soccer or basketball you can either sit on the sidelines or you can just get in the game and be like, “hey don't throw that ball at me” and they're like, “yeah don't worry”. But baseball's messed up because no matter how much you suck you got to have that little moment on the stage when everything is riding on you at home plate. And this pitcher is throwing this ball at you and he doesn't want you to hit it and it is quite the toxic relationship. 

So in baseball I couldn't make that relationship work and I would strike out every time. And I remember being in eighth grade and I was so happy 'cause it was the last year where everyone could just play baseball and still suck. And I knew in ninth grade, I'd be in high school and they'd be like, “you can't play” and I'd be like, “sweet!” So I was excited that it was the last year

Now on the first day of practice I was lined up with all the kids and the coach was going by and introducing himself. And he came up to me and he got on one knee and he said, “hey. Are you John Craigie?” I said, “yeah.” He said, “I heard of you.” I said, “what have you heard?” He said, “I heard you strike out every time.” And I said, “you heard right sir.” He said, “well not this year! You have Coach Brad Zakuto. We're going to get you a hit!” And I said, “look man, I don't want to interrupt this after-school-special moment, but many coaches have come and gone and tried this. They've all failed. Let's just acknowledge the fact that I'm going to strike out. We'll have our little pizza party. We'll move on with our lives.”

But Coach Zakuto did not give up on me and every day at practice he sat with me and taught me all the techniques: kept my eye on the ball, choke up. He even did that thing where I knocked the little dirt off my cleats, you know. But despite his teachings I could not get a hit. And I was mad because I wanted to get one, if not for me, for Coach Brad Zakuto. But every time, I kept striking out. 

[Harmonica]

But despite my terrible playing, my team was great. And we got to the World Series, the little playoffs. And we were up there and we were doing good. We were winning. And here's where it gets a little technical so come with me for a second Portland. It was the bottom of the seventh inning and my team was winning. But it was starting to get dark. And in my little Little League diamonds in Los Angeles if it got dark they would end the game and they would go back to the previous inning of whoever was winning. And they had been winning in the previous inning. So we needed to get out of this inning fast. We needed outs. The other team knew so they were stalling. They were walking everybody. Coach Zakuto was sweating. We had two outs. We just needed one more and he knew we needed one fast. He looked down at the roster. Who was up next?

[Harmonica]

I was standing there in that little circle, the on-deck circle, swinging like an idiot, you know? He walked up to me, got on one knee. He said, “John, I need something from you.” I said, “I know. Keep my eye on the ball, choke up, knock the dirt off my cleats.” He said, “no no no man, I got to ask something of you that goes against everything I've taught you all year.” I said, “what is it Coach?” He said, “I need you to strike out.” I looked him dead in the eye and I said, “Coach… that I can do.”

And I walked to home plate with more confidence than I'd ever had. And the fans of my team were going crazy 'cause they knew what was happening. And the pitcher saw me and he knew what was happening. He was looking freaked out. And I got up there, and I didn't choke up, and I didn't keep my eye on the ball, and my cleats were dirty as hell. He threw that first pitch way outside. I swung and I missed. Strike one! The coach yelled at him. “Hey! Walk this kid!” He said, “this is John Craigie! No one can walk this kid!” Second pitch, way outside. I swung and I missed. Strike two! The crowd was screaming. The roar was deafening. I took every failure of my entire life, I piled them up on that home plate. And I watched him throw that pitch so far outside, I don't even know where it went. And I swung as goofy as ever. And I missed. Strike three. We got out. We won the game. And I never played baseball again. 

[Harmonica]

“If you haven't failed lately you haven't been trying.” I looked up at that sign and I thought about that baseball story, tried to get inspired. I thought about Van Gogh and tried to get inspired. I thought to myself, maybe the cool thing about Van Gogh wasn't about his lack of success until death, but maybe the cool thing was that even though he wasn't successful he still painted every day, all the time, right up to the end. I wondered why. But probably for the same reason that I was driving to these little coffee shops: 'cause it felt good to swing. Yeah. 

As I passed under that sign I could almost hear the tired voice of Jiffy Lube calling down to me, “oh Johnny. How long must we watch you fail.” And as I raced past it into the unknown darkness I called back, “oh Jiffy. How long you got? We gonna be up for a while.”

Thanks so much for coming tonight. We love you. Thank you!