Fever Pitch

by Hap Rocketto 

The tumultuous event that was the Boston Red Sox 2004 World Series victory gave the movie “Fever Pitch” a wider audience. The Farrelly Brothers romantic-comedy, while not on the level of the great “screwball comedies starring the likes of Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn is never the less entertaining. Based on the novel of the same name by British author Nick Hornby, his reference to pitch refers to the field upon which football, soccer as it is called in the United States, is played. To us it is an obvious baseball reference.

The story tells of laid-back Boston high school mathematics teacher Ben Wrightman, played by Jimmy Fallon, and workaholic executive Lindsey Meeks, played by Drew Barrymore. It is a twist on the classic love triangle, boy, girl and, in this case, the Red Sox as the third party. The two meet when Ben brings several of his prized students to Lindsey’s office to see how mathematics is used in the real world. Unknown to Lindsey is that Ben is an obsessive Sox fan and their affair plays out over the epic, nay Homeric, Red Sox drive to the title.

Lindsey asks the visiting students if they ever look at numbers and rearrange them or perform mathematical operations with them. One blurts out, “You have discovered my secret shame!” Oddly, it is also one my secret shames. To pass time as I drive I rearrange license plate numbers to make the best possible shooting scores or poker hands. Another secret shame is deeply buried in my boast of earning my Distinguished Rifleman Badge during the glorious epoch of 30 caliber, the era of “wooden rifles and iron men” which causes me to sort of look down at today’s 5.56 riflemen.

By way of explanation my part time job requires me to monitor a whole constellation of shooting websites. Several contain extensive threads dedicated to tactics and strategies to employ in chasing Distinguished which I read with astonishment. No one need tactics, strategies, or a fancy shooting cart to become Distinguished, all that is needed are the basics: solid zeros, a good sight picture, a tight hold, an easy squeeze, and perseverance.

Incongruously much of this pontificating is done by those who have yet to earn the Badge and who furthermore imprudently tempt the shooting gods by proclaiming, with unrestrained hubris, that they will “go out” this season. These wannabes, many born long after I earned my Badge, condescendingly discount the ‘14 as no longer worthy of the grand endeavor of Leg competition, relegating it to the scrap heap of firearm curiosities along with the “Duckfoot” pistol and the Dardick “Tround.”

Age gives perspective. I recall my elders telling me of old timers looking down their noses at the National Match M1 when it replaced the beloved bolt action 1903 Springfield as the service rifle. I stood by, biting my tongue, as they, the proud and perverse owners of “M1 Thumbs”, spoke disdainfully of my M14. The day of the ‘14 may be past but I remember when the M16, or AR in today’s parlance, was derided as nothing more than Mattie Mattel’s plastic toy gun.

This got me to thinking about the number of Leg matches I actually shot before I went out. Eight years after my first high power match; shot with an M1 on the 15th Infantry Range at Fort Dix on the old V target, I shot my first Leg with the ‘14. After shooting three Leg matches that year I got my first Leg, a six pointer, at Reading the next with a 459-8X. Three years and ten fruitless Leg matches would pass until I next legged at Fort Meade with another 459, this time with just six Xs. However, the conditions were so bad that this 459 was worth eight points!

Only two more matches would pass until I managed to Leg again at Fort Benning during the 1979 All Army Championships. My psyche often blocks this match from my consciousness because it was a “combat” match. We fired the National Match Course at the Army ‘Dog’ target at 100, 200, 300, and 400 yards using the M16A1 rifle and ball ammunition. My 222-12V got me six points and my silver EIC Medal. A tad more than two years, and eight worthless red scorecards, later I earned my first Presidents 100 and again legged, grabbing an eight pointer with a 481-13X at the 1981 National Matches. I now had 28 points. Three weeks later, in Little Rock, Arkansas at the Winston P. Wilson Matches, the National Guard Championships, I went out with a 470-7X, another eight pointer, locking up a Chief’s 50 Badge in the process.

In all I fired 29 Leg matches in eight years, four were civilian; seven were at the National Matches, and the balance were military events. I once went almost three years and ten Leg matches without a point. Twenty four points were earned with eight point, or ‘hard’ legs. When I went out I had earned 36 points, six of which were with the ‘16, meaning I had accumulated 30 with the ‘14. Therein lies the truth to my claim to having earned my Badge with the ‘14. Had I not earned the six pointer at Benning I still would have gone out on the same date but with an even 30 M14 points. Ironically, since that day, like all other Distinguished Rifleman, it seems that it takes more work to be below cut off than above.

In retrospect it seems though that maybe that combat Leg was the purest form of Leg competition. Everyone was required to shoot a rack grade M16A1 with canvas sling and ball ammunition. No fancy shooting clothing, just a field jacket, a GI glove, and a poncho in lieu of a mat. It was how Leg matches should be shot, a contest of skill, not equipment: all competitors equal before the shooting gods as they throw themselves prostrate in supplication, hoping to be judged worthy of the gift of Distinguished.

My secret shooting shame is no longer a secret and, perhaps, maybe after all, it is not much of shame either.