Jason Giambi

In 2000, I got myself a Jason Giambi rookie. In 2001, I gave it away after he signed with the Yankees and got rid of his dirtbag image for pinstripes.
Somewhere in those years afterward, I never forgot that he was once the guy that Mark McGwire took under his wing and even begged St. Louis to sign (instead of Tino Martinez who the Yankees cast aside for the Cardinals despite his contributions to the magnificent run that all of their fans thought they had over the past 5 years). Sure, he was salivated over with Seattle in that year that the Mariners beat the Yankees in 1995, but it wasn't the same way that the Yankees lusted after Giambi. Like someone else's girlfriend that is hovered over when the imminent breakup is about to occur, but that doesn't work out when the window of opportunity is there (is everything a Seinfeld episode, or is it just me?)... Tino went to the Yankees, but he was quickly cast out when the opportunity came to get Giambi.
And so the Yankees did, but for the fact I gave his rookie card away (I wouldn't touch Yankee cards at that period of my life - especially ones that featured former "one of my favorite players"). I felt the same way with Randy Johnson and Kevin Brown. Randy was someone that I once adored the hell out of in only the way that a grown straight man can feel for a baseball player that he'll never know. Brown was someone whose talents I really liked. I didn't know much about his temper, but I'll tell you... I loved seeing him smash his hand in the dugout during a stretch run collapse.
Who knew that it was a sign of fierce competitor-ness / roid rage?
And when Giambi got struck by "parasites," I wasn't thinking about how he took Miguel Tejada to task in the 2001 playoffs for being a schlub. Though I never forgot that, I just felt that it was the universe paying him back for taking Yankee dollars and creating a demise of the Oakland team that was dominating August to make the playoffs year after year (Zito, Hudson, Mulder, Tejada).
He was 33, 43, and 38 for home runs in those last 3 Oakland years as he rose from the ashes of a dismantling that saw McGwire shipped to St. Louis. He was first in MVP in 2000 and second in 2001. He batted .315, .333, and .342 those last 3 years. He was 123, 137, and 120 for RBIs those years. He was also 105, 137, and 129 for walks in those campaigns! In the end, he was holding down the first sack and leading a team of dirt bags to the ALCS only to see them implode to the Yankees - we can blame the universe or we can blame his fat ass brother for that, but all the same... the A's were never to be again.
Giambi found a new hope and he found BALCO, and after 2 seasons without scruff, he wasn't the same man again. He did bounce back, but never to the level of his time in Oakland or his 2 41 home run seasons that began his New York tenure (and so began the Curse of Jason Giambi and Mike Mussina - the 2 players that the Yankees had to have at the end of their 3-year run, but couldn't win it all with).
He went back to Oakland in 2009, and it meant well at the beginning, but by the end of the year, he was playing in Denver, a town he still plays in. It's a bit role, and he sort of resembles the guy that he used to be - with a little more gray in the beard... the mustache thing is now over as he looks scruffy again, and for one evening, the old Jason was back killing Philadelphia substitute pitching (Kyle Kendrick) last night.
In the end, he had 3 homers and 7 RBIs.
Now that he's 40, he finally has a 3-homer game. He joins Babe Ruth, Stan Musial, and Reggie Jackson on that short list. For that, we wish him well and back in the lineup on a regular basis, but sadly, the end is coming... there will be no Cooperstown due to his non-specific apologies, but we will remember... that evening with Tejada's playoff goat self.
He was once the man.
Last night he was again.

Alex Rodriguez

It seems that Lance Berkman is taking criticism from the Houston team and their annoucner (Milo Hamilton) that he left behind as he moves on with his rejuvination in St. Louis (6 HRs, 16 RBIs, .378).
"Why did you think it wasn't necessary to get in shape your last couple of years as an Astro? And now to a team you didn't even know, a manager you didn't play for, you felt it was your responsibility to get in great shape? And it's paying off. ... Lance, I love you. But wouldn't it have been great to have given that same dedication to the Astros and your owner here that you did in two short months to the Cardinals?"
To this, he can only agree, which is a sign of class in his resurrection from the ashes of Houston and the Bronx.
"You kind of want to be a (Craig) Biggio or a Chipper Jones (and) that's kind of how I had it in my mind that I was going to be the same type of guy, my whole career in Texas, one team," Berkman said. "I have to take some responsibility for not still being here. ... We were terrible. I was terrible. And they were ready to move on."
It's not perfect. he's not perfect, but he's trying and he's internalizing the blame, which is the sign of maturity that some athletes just don't have.
Take A-Rod for example.
I hate A-Rod. I really do. I can't think of anything nice to say about him. I don't think fashion models should be baseball players, and it doesn't matter if they're pretty boys making out with themselves in a mirror (A-Rod) or muscleheads posing with shaved and oiled chests (Brady Anderson / Gabe Kaplar). That said, I'm not of the shaved chest persuasion and I don't look good in baby oil. I'm not tanned (though I am farmer tanned from my past 2 days in the sun hiking between work sessions), but yeah... I'm also not sporting a haircut that costs more than some people's wardrobes OR using stuff in my hair (I don't use the P word). So yeah... I really loathe the man. I hated him with Seattle. I see him as sinking the ship in Texas. I absolutely LOATHE him in New York. He'll never be a Yankee. Even Jeter hates him.
They say it best in The Other Guys when referring to Jeter getting shot when it should have been A-Rod... I hear you.
And when he got caught for steroids, he really had the lamest excuses in the world.
"Again, it was such a loosey-goosey era. I'm guilty for a lot of things. I'm guilty for being negligent, naive, not asking all the right questions. And to be quite honest, I don't know exactly what substance I was guilty of using."
And from trying to take things back to Selena Roberts to trashing his "cousin" to all that he did and didn't do, in the end, there was a well scripted apology that was so full of crap that it makes porta potties at the state fair seem nice by comparison. When THEE Peter Gammons wants to save your ass and he can't, something is wrong.
"When you take this gorilla and this monkey off your back, you realize that honesty is the only way. I'm finally beginning to grow up. I'm pretty tired of being stupid and selfish, you know, about myself. The truth needed to come out a long time ago. I'm glad it's coming out today."
No you're not... you want to be inseminating Madonna or smoking your stogies and living the high life. This is just a step between celebrity relationships and all that your life is.
But with that said, yesterday, I broke my relic cherry as a box of cards that my wife got me was all too Alex Rodriguez heavy. It featured a regular Topps graded Rodriguez from 2009. It featured a Masterpieces of the Game Rodriguez with some grand slam that he hit (there was also a Chris Chambliss from that set where he's doing the '76 home run dash - that's already in a place of awesomeness in my collection). There were a lot of interesting cards in small pack combinations (Goudey, Upper Deck variations from the past 4 years), but the highlight was a Baseball Heroes jersey (pictured left 99/200) that I pulled straight out of a pack - I've never done that before, and even though it was A-Rod, I was happy as a pig in the mud at 82 degrees.
Because in the end, baseball cards are about the closed pack and what could be inside. There is a sensation that anything or anyone could be in the pack. It's never been viewed since it was put in there, and for that, the lottery exists, and one could win big with a player he likes or come up with a couple faces that are commons from teams he doesn't know, or he could get a rookie of a no name and win big years from now. Nevertheless, figuring out rookies is all but impossible without a copy of Tuff Stuff, and even then, who knows if it's THEE rookie. But it's a sensation of getting something good, and in the end, any night that features a box of baseball cards that await opening... it's a great day (already made beautiful with sun and flowers and breezes over the water and life is good - as it was today for the same things and some herons and a few painted turtles sunning themselves on logs down from the 20lb snapping turtle just swimming in the water like nothing was doing).
Here's to spring and the good things.

Ramon Hernandez

So what's the story of the first day of the MLB season? Is it the fact that Mark Reynolds hasn't whiffed yet? Maybe that's only because he hasn't come to the plate yet. When he does, the bird on his shirt won't change the luck he had with the snake in the desert. He'll have his 215 whiffs and Camden yards will be crying over giving any money to him because no amount of home runs can justify just how bad that low batting average and high amount of strikeouts truly is. So with that being said, is it Jason Heyward connecting on a long fly ball souvenier for his first at bat the second year running? Is it Mariano Rivera converting a save to preserve a Texeria and Granderson home run in a victory over the Tigers? Is it Albert Pujols going 0-5 with 3 GIDdynotuPs that pretty much caused St. Louis to not win (take away all talk of that $300million contract immediately!)? And no, it's not April Fools Day - even if it is April 1, 2011. Or is it a pair of home runs in the first 2 at bats of the season by Rickie Weeks and Carlos Gomez that were effectively released by a Brewers bullpen melt down in the 9th that saw Ramon Hernandez, a 12 year vet with a lot of part time seasons that never really excelled, but that sure was awesome when it needed to be... 9th inning... 2 on, 2 down, and a hot bat that can swat a long fly ball to keep steroids rehab poster boy Edinson Volquez from getting stapled to a loss in his first game in over a year. And isn't that how a year should start out... so much hope. In the words of Lou Boudrea... "all future and no past." The sky is the limit on everything as a guy who never hit .300 is now batting .800. And with that magnificent moment for a journeyman player, the Cincinnati Reds are winning one to come back from the hell of 2010's end that saw their promise vanish in a Roy Halladay no hitter to start the playoffs in dramatic fashion. Doctober never recommenced from there, but it was a Don Larsen moment for my generation. Halladay is supposed to take the mound today, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. The ground was covered in snow this morning. It wasn't much, but it wasn't pretty. It made me feel like Ozzie Guillen ranting about going to Cleveland to start the season with those lake breezes and nasty Lake Erie weather, something that I am starting to learn about as we often go to visit my wife's family in Port Clinton, Ohio. And baseball is back and life is good. And I got home to a couple of stacks of early 90s, late 80s baseball card commons. There were a few better players... Curt Schilling comes to mind as do some Jimmy Dean cards with guys like Griffey and Biggio on them. They were a present from my wife, and a nice touch on a day that saw me working on my resume and attending a teaching fair that really didn't have a lot of schools close enough to where I live to bother trying for too many of them. Even with the few that I went to, it was all about budget, not knowing the amount of positions open, and trying to shy away from people with Masters Degrees (me). So alas, there are other job fairs more promising... such as the one the day before regarding the VA hospital patient processing center that is opening near us. Unfortunately, I'm not a situational left handed reliever like I hope my future son will be (if I ever have a future son). I'm just me, for better or for worse. I'm not a free swinging 3rd baseman making way too much money or even a pitcher who arrived in the nick of time to show my stuff. I'm not a contract year mirage. And no matte who any of us are... there is still a possibility that it's going to be a good year for all of us.

John Fogerty

Yesterday, my wife and I were out taking a walk since the weather was starting to break and amidst the sounds of a kid hammering out the drum, it seemed like spring was getting here quickly. And with that, what better way to start the baseball season than to look out back and see the green (well, ok, it's brown) grass on my own lawn and to figure out how to get the rest of this snow melted so that I can sit out in the Siesta Zone on Friday afternoon after another week is over (hopefully, with gainful employment on the horizon as a warm almost 60 degree day basks the winter blues and cabin fever away.
Nevertheless, everything is born again except for Albert Pujols' future with the Cardinals as he rejected the Cardinals offer a few weeks ago. However, since Albert isn't paying my bills, I'll reflect on how my wife’s flowers are blossoming. Well, at least the snow drops are. Someday soon, I look forward to seeing the cherry tree that I bought her last year as an early birthday present getting brough back to life in brilliant pinks and lights reds. The magnolia tree is incredible when it opens as well. The whites go well with the yellows of other bushes that I haven’t learned the names of, and the tulips, hyacinths, and daffodils are poking through the former owner’s less than manicured “gardens.” It's not Longwood Gardens, but we can dream that someday, it will be.
Last year, the Giants won the whole show by beating up on a surprising Texas in a World Series that someone had to win for the first time (while the New York Giants won before, the San Francisco Giants never did). After that, it was all over. The city by the bay made the Freak and Matt Cain their heroes. Cody Ross and Brian Wilson were the knights in shining armor. This year, I really want to have aspirations for Boston’s hitters. I do see them getting better with Carmeron and Gonzalez, but they still have JD Drew and an aging Ortiz that saw better seasons prior to 2008. Kevin Youkilis is fine, but I still wonder who they're kidding with a well-aged Jason Varitek who made have leadership and game calling, but other than that... However, with John Lackey and Josh Beckett being high salary question marks, it’s time to believe in offense again because Theo's grand defensive plans of last year and a ton of injuries equaled third place. And I'm not even getting into how we STILL haven’t solved shortstop since Orlando Cabrerra was allowed to pack his bags for elsewhere.
As for the Yankees, I'm sure they'll make a play for Pujols next year since their signings were ancient has beens and never weres from the early 2000s and an overpaid set up man from Tampa Bay. Eric Chavez. Garbage. Mark Prior. The Cubs killed his career before he had a chance to prove it. Bartolo Colon? Are we going to pair him with CC to see who the biggest loser is? Freddy Garcia? Didn't we learn anything from signing Kerry Wood and Lance Berkman at the break last year?
Yep. It’s baseball season. Break out the Yuengling and the pretzels. Life is good. I’m ready to see them all play. It’s going to be a great 2011 with the Phillies taking on the Red Sox in the World Series, which I happily admit will be a good series for the Red Sox unless the Phillies decide to make a play for offense - i.e. Michael Young. All the same, it’s one of those years where potential looms, but more than ever, it seems to be a year where the youth of the game establishes itself for a rebalancing of power as the old guard (Atlanta, Anaheim, and both New York teams) slip further away from contention.
Nevertheless, Despite not playing and having spent my little league career watching from the bench, I became a master of card collecting for those eighties pre-steroid years. My heroes either saw their stats eclipsed or lost due to asterisks. The heroes of the past were all bent up and tattered at the edges and worth slightly less. As time went by, I took to APBA Baseball, but lost the 1980 and 1982 sets to a 1999 fire. Now, I’ve been reading the previews magazines religiously since I took Derek Jeter’s face to California in 1997 with the mission that I would get back into baseball, which would allow me to reacquaint myself with America after living in England from December 27, 1990, to July 8, 1996. And it worked. I found Mark McGwire, Larry Walker, Randy Johnson, and Kevin Brown and a guy named Renteria who hit one through to beat the Indians. I found Willie, Ty Cobb, and Joltin’ Joe Dimaggio. By 1998, the time was now, and while it’s not like it’s a year where records are predicted to fall, it still feels like now. The time is T-minus 8 hours and 20 minutes.
The veterans and the rookies are still there. The old haggard faces with their gloves of steel that they’ve worn for many years, and memories of a pair of hot rookies named Strasburg and Heyward trying to create some glory in their respective towns. Alongside of him, a guy named Jurrjens wants to come back from some rough times with injuries and be Maddux at the center of a greate Braves rotation. It could very well happen.
Will Jose Bautista be the first homerun of the year, or will it be Joey Votto? Will Jeter or Jacoby give the ball a ride to the bullpen in right field? Will Big Papi start a campaign to not go off into the sunset by hitting the Dunkin Donuts sign? I eagerly anticipate it all.
Here’s to 2011. Let John Fogerty sound and let the Cactus and Grapefrut League games begin!