Friday, April 1, 2011
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.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Curse of the Billy Goat
In 1958 and 1959, he was the MVP for the National League, but he still couldn’t keep the Cubs’ hopes for ending the Curse of the Billy Goat alive. During those 2 years, he averaged 46 home runs as a shortstop in a time before guys like Alex Rodriguez, Cal Ripken, Miguel Tejada, and Nomar Garciaparra were redefining a position that guys like Mario Mendoza had held down “effectively” in defensive capacities while hitting .215 and 4 home runs over a career that lasted from 1974-1982.
For that matter, from 1978-1996, the great Ozzie Smith who did hit a defining playoff home run where fans were allowed to go crazy afterward, had 7 seasons where he didn’t hit one home run, and other than his "slugging" year of 1983 when he hit 6 home runs, there was never another year like that as he never got more than half of this total. In aside, Smith should be glad that he didn't do that in 2001 when he would have been investigated for steroids. Of course, the Wizard could do summersaults and stop sharply hit grounders up the middle while channeling programming messages to future ESPN Baseball Tonight programmers that stated the importance of the “web gem,” but Ernie Banks was a guy who could do it all. He had personality, he had life, he had a hot bat that could drive in serious runs and hit for a more than respectable average, but he had no World Series rings.
Despite Banks having a total lack of October experience, he did have one thing other than the fact he made the All Star team for 10 of his seasons and hit 512 home runs over his career. That thing that made him stand apart in the history of baseball was a catch phrase: “It’s a beautiful day for a ballgame. Let’s play two!”
And here we are at the start of the season and my two ballgames are the two fantasy teams that I will take to the finish line: the Ephrata Fighting Amish and the Amish Paradise Green Dragons.
All the same, neither is as memorable as the real game that will be taking place at Fenway Park for the first time since the Cubs lost the 1918 World Series to the Red Sox. In a game that someone had to win, much like the Rangers and the Giants in last year's World Series, the Red Sox, the dominate team of the 1910s, took the series from the Cubs and added another year to their championship drought, which had just moved to a decade since Merkle's Boner.
So will this be a sign that the Cubs are going to move past evicting some stinky farm animal and his uncouth owner who would have even dared to bring him into the park? Will this be the year that Steve Bartman's soul can rest in peace and he finally is forgiven for interfering with Moises Alou's catch in foul territory? Can he come back from his purgatory? Can the Cubs gather round all of their great players from the past and let them cry as the drought ends? Will the real live Ryne Sandberg get his opportunity to guide the team to the crown or will he be passed over yet again? Will fans make peace with Sammy Sosa's corked bat and steroids use enough to let him come back to a late 1990s love fest all over again? Can Rick Sutcliffe's pitching arm slap the new look Cubs on the back? Would Ron Santo walk back onto the field like he did before diabetes claimed his legs, and if he did, would he walk in with the ghosts of Mordecai "3 Fingers" Brown, Ed Reulbach, Tinker, Evers, Chance? Would they recognize Starlin Castro, Aramis Ramirez, Carlos Zambrano, Geovany Soto, Marlon Byrd, Kosuke Fukodome, and Alfonso Soriano?
Is this the year that Billy Williams gets to come back with Leon Durham, Greg Maddux, and Fergie Jenkins, the Cubs greats of the past, and speak about what could have been and be applauded for being there for the 102 years of sadness?
Can Harry Caray finally rest in peace?
When all is said and done, will Charlie Root bring his fastball and throw it at the effigy of Babe Ruth set to go on the bonfire at the center of all that is more than a century of sadness in Wrigleyville?
Not if the new look Red Sox have anything to do with it... but here's hoping from the heart of a baseball fan.
For that matter, from 1978-1996, the great Ozzie Smith who did hit a defining playoff home run where fans were allowed to go crazy afterward, had 7 seasons where he didn’t hit one home run, and other than his "slugging" year of 1983 when he hit 6 home runs, there was never another year like that as he never got more than half of this total. In aside, Smith should be glad that he didn't do that in 2001 when he would have been investigated for steroids. Of course, the Wizard could do summersaults and stop sharply hit grounders up the middle while channeling programming messages to future ESPN Baseball Tonight programmers that stated the importance of the “web gem,” but Ernie Banks was a guy who could do it all. He had personality, he had life, he had a hot bat that could drive in serious runs and hit for a more than respectable average, but he had no World Series rings.
Despite Banks having a total lack of October experience, he did have one thing other than the fact he made the All Star team for 10 of his seasons and hit 512 home runs over his career. That thing that made him stand apart in the history of baseball was a catch phrase: “It’s a beautiful day for a ballgame. Let’s play two!”
And here we are at the start of the season and my two ballgames are the two fantasy teams that I will take to the finish line: the Ephrata Fighting Amish and the Amish Paradise Green Dragons.
All the same, neither is as memorable as the real game that will be taking place at Fenway Park for the first time since the Cubs lost the 1918 World Series to the Red Sox. In a game that someone had to win, much like the Rangers and the Giants in last year's World Series, the Red Sox, the dominate team of the 1910s, took the series from the Cubs and added another year to their championship drought, which had just moved to a decade since Merkle's Boner.
So will this be a sign that the Cubs are going to move past evicting some stinky farm animal and his uncouth owner who would have even dared to bring him into the park? Will this be the year that Steve Bartman's soul can rest in peace and he finally is forgiven for interfering with Moises Alou's catch in foul territory? Can he come back from his purgatory? Can the Cubs gather round all of their great players from the past and let them cry as the drought ends? Will the real live Ryne Sandberg get his opportunity to guide the team to the crown or will he be passed over yet again? Will fans make peace with Sammy Sosa's corked bat and steroids use enough to let him come back to a late 1990s love fest all over again? Can Rick Sutcliffe's pitching arm slap the new look Cubs on the back? Would Ron Santo walk back onto the field like he did before diabetes claimed his legs, and if he did, would he walk in with the ghosts of Mordecai "3 Fingers" Brown, Ed Reulbach, Tinker, Evers, Chance? Would they recognize Starlin Castro, Aramis Ramirez, Carlos Zambrano, Geovany Soto, Marlon Byrd, Kosuke Fukodome, and Alfonso Soriano?
Is this the year that Billy Williams gets to come back with Leon Durham, Greg Maddux, and Fergie Jenkins, the Cubs greats of the past, and speak about what could have been and be applauded for being there for the 102 years of sadness?
Can Harry Caray finally rest in peace?
When all is said and done, will Charlie Root bring his fastball and throw it at the effigy of Babe Ruth set to go on the bonfire at the center of all that is more than a century of sadness in Wrigleyville?
Not if the new look Red Sox have anything to do with it... but here's hoping from the heart of a baseball fan.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Joe Morgan and Jon Miller
I have to say - I hate Joe Morgan and his sidekick Jon Miller. Then again, each one is really the little Grover Dill sidekick to the other one, and if you're like me, you hope that Ralphie comes in and kicks both of their asses across Indiana's small town set and makes my Christmas Story wish complete.
That said, neither one is particularly bright, and yet, until this year, both were seasoned ESPN Sunday Night Baseball announcers. For 21 years, we've had to hear Joe Morgan pretend to be intelligent (while actually just playing the voice of race) and Jon Miller feign being reasonably competent (while wearing some of the worst suits in history), but alas, they both just suck, and for what a website couldn't do... ESPN finally did.
Orel Hershiser is at least an articulate and fair voice of the game. Bobby Valentine played the game with passion and fire, and if nothing else, for one night in 1999, he made getting ejected into a comedic artwork as he came back to the dugout with a pair of sunglasses and a fake mustache. Baseball players have gotta do something when their fans are having to endure the drudgery of the Mets and the Blue Jays labor through the grueling schedule of interleague play.
That said, neither one is particularly bright, and yet, until this year, both were seasoned ESPN Sunday Night Baseball announcers. For 21 years, we've had to hear Joe Morgan pretend to be intelligent (while actually just playing the voice of race) and Jon Miller feign being reasonably competent (while wearing some of the worst suits in history), but alas, they both just suck, and for what a website couldn't do... ESPN finally did.
Orel Hershiser is at least an articulate and fair voice of the game. Bobby Valentine played the game with passion and fire, and if nothing else, for one night in 1999, he made getting ejected into a comedic artwork as he came back to the dugout with a pair of sunglasses and a fake mustache. Baseball players have gotta do something when their fans are having to endure the drudgery of the Mets and the Blue Jays labor through the grueling schedule of interleague play.But yes... for years, there wasn't much opportunity to watch baseball - until MLBTV came along and made that different. Sure, Fox has the game of the week - if your team is one of the first place teams or the perennial favorites. And sure, there are local team games, but I'm not a Phillies fan, so I can only handle baseball so long with them LET ALONE the Pirates. And while TBS used to be good for Braves games... uh, enough said.
The good news is we're free of them ONCE AND FOR ALL, which is a good thing unless we're going to Cooperstown and we have to see that Jon Miller is in the same place as guys like Harry Caray, Harry Kalas, Ernie Harwell, Bob Uecker, Vin Scully, Red Barber, and Mell Allen. He even gets to be in the Veterans Committee to decide future HOF inductees... talk about travesties.
But nevertheless, there is light at the end of the tunnel, and all is better because he is going to vanish into obscurity - save that vote for or against the steroids guys that he cheered for so long - and isn't that the biggest kicker of them all? How long until Joe gets in that auxillary feature of the Hall of Fame (the Ford C Frick Award for writers and broadcasters) with him?
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Kevin Costner
Kevin Costner is either Bull Durham or Field of Dreams. For me, it's Bull Durham. As I've said, I get the concept of Field of Dreams, but it's just not the same. For my birthday (August 26th), I'll review the movie that is me, but yeah... nobody feels that it's For Love of the Game, which isn't necessarily a bad movie. Instead, it's just formulaic saccharine that tastes good at the time, but we'll never pay for it on DVD (even at $6) to have it in our collection.
Is the issue John Travolta's wife as recurring love interest that is and isn't there, sometimes more, sometimes less important than baseball?
Is the issue a youthful Jena Malone, who just makes this whole thing too Gilmore Girls-esque?
Is it John C. Reilly in a role that isn't Walk Hard: Dewey Cox (now, that was a great movie)?
Is it the fact that we're going back to the same cow to milk it so many times in hopes that this one works too?
Is it the fact that we're in the midst of a perfect game and we know that it's going to happen (should have had Jim Joyce to come in for the final out... now that would have been a plot twist that nobody saw coming)?
Is it the fact that it's against the Yankees (and we get it... we hate them, too, but couldn't it be against the cellar dwellers of the division so we wonder if it's as legitimate as a perfect game by rain delay after 5 innings or against a team of schlubs where the pitcher decides to throw heat instead of calling the outfield in)?
Is the issue Costner himself (a once great actor deciding what to do with his career as he gets hired for name recognition instead of lead man status)?
Between westerns and sports movies, that's Costner's bag of tricks. At least he's not restorting to doing a movie on a Montana ranch where he teaches the workers to play baseball until the aliens come and he unites with some mysterious stranger with a laser shooting bracelet on his wrist in order to save the day (no, wait. other than the baseball, that's Harrison Ford).
But there is 2 hours of passable entertainment in the DVD, and if you haven't seen it before, and even if you have, it's not like you're going to ask for 2 hours of your life back. That said, it's not like you're going to feel like you've struck cinematic gold either.
You're just getting what you're getting. Baseball on the big screen.
Is the issue John Travolta's wife as recurring love interest that is and isn't there, sometimes more, sometimes less important than baseball?
Is the issue a youthful Jena Malone, who just makes this whole thing too Gilmore Girls-esque?
Is it John C. Reilly in a role that isn't Walk Hard: Dewey Cox (now, that was a great movie)?
Is it the fact that we're going back to the same cow to milk it so many times in hopes that this one works too?
Is it the fact that we're in the midst of a perfect game and we know that it's going to happen (should have had Jim Joyce to come in for the final out... now that would have been a plot twist that nobody saw coming)?
Is it the fact that it's against the Yankees (and we get it... we hate them, too, but couldn't it be against the cellar dwellers of the division so we wonder if it's as legitimate as a perfect game by rain delay after 5 innings or against a team of schlubs where the pitcher decides to throw heat instead of calling the outfield in)?
Is the issue Costner himself (a once great actor deciding what to do with his career as he gets hired for name recognition instead of lead man status)?
Between westerns and sports movies, that's Costner's bag of tricks. At least he's not restorting to doing a movie on a Montana ranch where he teaches the workers to play baseball until the aliens come and he unites with some mysterious stranger with a laser shooting bracelet on his wrist in order to save the day (no, wait. other than the baseball, that's Harrison Ford).
But there is 2 hours of passable entertainment in the DVD, and if you haven't seen it before, and even if you have, it's not like you're going to ask for 2 hours of your life back. That said, it's not like you're going to feel like you've struck cinematic gold either.
You're just getting what you're getting. Baseball on the big screen.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Jesus Monterro
Like Bill O' Reilly, we're always looking out for you, and like his parent company, Fox News, we try to be fair and balanced, so if we say how A-Rod did something good one day (inviting a hero gal to a Yankees game), it's only fair that we mention that he owns a property company called Newport Property Ventures, and because of his inability to fix up the property has some property owners referring to him as a slumlord. So in the spirit of all things Yankees, let's take a look at the Evil Empire and see where they stack up for the year - other than A-Rod who may end up playing with Ricky Vaughn in the California Penal League. First things first, we should see their catcher who is literally older than the dinosaurs. Yes, Jorge Posada will still be catching because Jesus Monterro just wasn't ready to play in the majors - yet - is 39 years old. Looking at some of his other teammates from the Golden Age of Yankees on Fox as slobbered over by Jack Buck, they're not faring much better. Rivera is 41. Jeter is 36. Bernie, Tino, O' Neil, Pettite, Wells, Cone, Stanton, Knoblauch, Justice, Brosius, Spencer, and Nelson are retired. Jason Grimsley is a felon. Jose Canseco and his minimal time in pinstripes isn't far behind him. And that's it... really. There aren't many guys still playing, and there definitely aren't many guys who made up that team. Let's shore up who still is there... Bartolo Colon, who is conservatively weighing in at 185 (they must have given some of his extra girth in years past to CC, who is listed at 290), is there, but this isn't 2002), represents the Yankees' inability to tell time. Hence, Freddy Garcia, Mark Prior, Eric Chavez, and Andruw Jones are all hanging out on the team for opening day. Hell, other than Robinson Cano, there is NO new lifeblood on this team. For that, I'm thankful because I'd like to see the Yankees fall far out of contention quickly this year. An 11-19 start that is never recovered from would be nice. It's time to see some fair weather fans of da Bronx Bombers suffer endlessly that year. But that might just be me. That said, if Joba the Hutt (he of the midge attraction) can't find whatever made him special enough to get his own set of rules, there might only be Phil Hughes and his non-post season upside to spark a youth movement in New York. Imagine that... they'd have to go out and invest in all free agents to have a chance of winning. A second generation Steinbrenner do that? Whoda thunk it?
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Alex Rodriguez
How 'bout them Butler Bulldogs?!!
But alas, since this isn't an NCAA basketball blog, we'll stick with the world of baseball and get right back to that.
There's pretty much not anything nice that we can say about Alex Rodriguez here, so if we have to say that we avoided him in YET ANOTHER fantasy draft, that's really not news, but to actually see him doing something nice - invite a 12-year old girl named Julianne Ramirez to a Yankee game because she rescued a 3-year old family friend by using CPR chest compressions - we have to look at the good things that a baseball player can do. Of course, there are other things a baseball player can do - get pissy when he and his movie star girlfriend are on camera in their Super Bowl sky booth or to come up positive for steroids and try to deny it and pass the blame - but alas, Rodriguez and his team killing salary (at least in the Rangers years) did something right this time, and since it's the only time we'll say it all year....
We'll say it.
And we'll take a look at who I did draft in the second of my fantasy drafts. I did draft Yankees, which as I said before is about the nature of this game - not my support for the Evil Empire. I ended up with Mariano Rivera, Robinson Cano, and Brett Gardner. Then again, I also got Roy Halladay and Cliff Lee again. They'll play alongside Nelson Cruz, Ichiro, and Buster Posey as well as Ryan Zimmerman, Jose Bautista, Dan Haren, and Andrew McCutchen (I've got him on both teams as I figure that he'll try to play his way out of Pittsburgh this July). Josh Johnson and Joakim Soria are also on the team, so we're primed and ready for action.
As is Colby Rasmus, who I had another trade request from the same guy who must either worship Rasmus as a god, or he must really know something.
All the same... I'm ready for Thursday and the start of the season.
Let the games begin!
But alas, since this isn't an NCAA basketball blog, we'll stick with the world of baseball and get right back to that.
There's pretty much not anything nice that we can say about Alex Rodriguez here, so if we have to say that we avoided him in YET ANOTHER fantasy draft, that's really not news, but to actually see him doing something nice - invite a 12-year old girl named Julianne Ramirez to a Yankee game because she rescued a 3-year old family friend by using CPR chest compressions - we have to look at the good things that a baseball player can do. Of course, there are other things a baseball player can do - get pissy when he and his movie star girlfriend are on camera in their Super Bowl sky booth or to come up positive for steroids and try to deny it and pass the blame - but alas, Rodriguez and his team killing salary (at least in the Rangers years) did something right this time, and since it's the only time we'll say it all year....
We'll say it.
And we'll take a look at who I did draft in the second of my fantasy drafts. I did draft Yankees, which as I said before is about the nature of this game - not my support for the Evil Empire. I ended up with Mariano Rivera, Robinson Cano, and Brett Gardner. Then again, I also got Roy Halladay and Cliff Lee again. They'll play alongside Nelson Cruz, Ichiro, and Buster Posey as well as Ryan Zimmerman, Jose Bautista, Dan Haren, and Andrew McCutchen (I've got him on both teams as I figure that he'll try to play his way out of Pittsburgh this July). Josh Johnson and Joakim Soria are also on the team, so we're primed and ready for action.
As is Colby Rasmus, who I had another trade request from the same guy who must either worship Rasmus as a god, or he must really know something.
All the same... I'm ready for Thursday and the start of the season.
Let the games begin!
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Colby Rasmus
I'm really going to do it this year - not like last year when I quit in futility. This will be my fifth year taking part in fantasy leagues, which is as much of a commitment as this website is. It requires patience and dedication to a 162-game schedule. Attention issues aside, a good draft and no injuries will keep the fires stoked until September 28th. It requires serious "research" to do determine who is coming up in the world of rookies, and it requires getting rid of injured players so that statistics aren’t jeopardized. Many people will start, but few will finish. I'm living proof. Having a quick blast of energy at the beginning is essential to having a chance, but it’s not everything.All in all, it’s as much a part of the game as the game itself, but it involves divorcing oneself from loyalties on the field. Where once I wouldn’t draft Yankees due to my hatred of the team, I have had four of them over the years (Rivera, Matsui, Gardner, and Jeter), which means that while I won’t be rooting for them, I’ll take their statistics in the same way that I will take other player’s great games.
This year, I started off with an option to get Robinson Cano, probably the best second baseman in the game, if I got pick 6 as the 6th picker; however, someone else grabbed him first, so I ended up with Roy Halladay and took the 7th pick (a league of 6 people - I didn't want to play with also rans more than I had to this year) of Joey Votto. All in all, I also got Josh Hamilton, Cliff Lee, Joe Mauer, Dan Uggla, Michael Young, and Mike Stanton for a rather solid looking team.
Already, my competition wants Colby Rasmus - for Raul Ibanez of all people. Let's be honest... I may have a couple of Phillies on my team and be from PA, but a rapidly aging mid power outfielder in decline already... nah. Perhaps, he should have offered Jason Heyward, but that's most likely asking way too much.
Granted, Rasmus has an upside... 23 homers and .276 batting average with 12 steals, and 148 whiffs, BUT he hates Tony Larussa, and that says a lot to me. Sure, he wanted off the team last year and Phat Albert thought he should have been jettisoned, but considered that Ryan Ludwick had already left for San Diego (dumb, dumb, dumb), Colby wasn't moving. And if he moves this year, he may have a bounce year in a non-Larussa burg. And if he doesn't, he could get even better than he already is. After all, he's only 2 years in the bigs...
So in the words of Hayden Panettiere, “bring it on. It’s all or nothing.”
Let the fantasy season begin!
Friday, March 25, 2011
Reggie Jackson
At 6 foot 2, Babe Ruth's 250 pound "official" final weight made him the original Big Sluggi (in contrast, David Ortiz is listed at 6 foot 4 and 230 - an estimate that seems rather kind - all things considered). When "The Sultan of Swat" launched his final 3 home runs, he was too sluggish to chug around the bases, but he still gave the crowd 3 more moonshots to remember him by. They weren't his most famous home runs - the one that he called (or didn't, depending on who is asked, and history supposedly vindicates) stands as that, and while I tend to side with a pitcher who was willing to admit to having a hankering for drilling any player who would do such a thing (Charlie Root), baseball legend is gold - just ask Abner Doubleday.
And Yankee lore is all about famous home runs. Reggie Jackson swung at 3 pitches on the night of October 18, 1977 when he made Burt Hooton, Elias Sosa, and Charlie Hough wish that they never dared to come to the Bronx. Three at bats. Three swings. Three long fly balls into the stands. Gotham was in pandemonium and all was celebration. The straw that stirred the drink had done it and proved to the world that it was he and not Thurmon Munson, then Yankee Captain, who was running the show with a little help from all of the clout that a 5 year $3 million contract (when that meant something - not this inflated era of just above league minimum pay).
But Jackson was what it meant to be in New York, leaving Oakland to come to the Bronx, he made his name over a half of a decade before moving on to California and back to Oakland to finish up his show with 563 jacks and 2597 strikeouts (in this, I'm sure he's hoping that Jim Thome gets 2 more full seasons). That said, strikeouts must be OK in the Big Apple. After all, Alex Rodriguez quietly has 1836 at age 34.
But all things considered, there is only one home run that has ever been hit in the house that Ruth Built (by a Yankee) that really moves me (the Pine Tar incident not withstanding):
Chris Chambliss - The Game 5 1976 walk off home run that ends with Yankee Stadium emptying onto the field so that Chambliss has to shove the fans out of his way.
Granted, I'm a Yankee hater, and I was a Brett fan. Had it not been for that home run, the Royals would have taken the game to extra innings on the strength of Brett's homer. However, the Yankees went to the World Series for the first time since the Maris era, and Steinbrenner had arrived as the owner he was to become.
In this, part of the game is loving the game and seeing its finest moments. Since this happened when I was 5, it wasn't like watching Aaron Boone. Hell, I feel nothing with Bucky Dent - I was 7 at the time and didn't follow baseball, but to lose the game now - to Jeter, A-Rod, or Cano... I'd feel that blast.
Chambliss was a thing of beauty - a more riotous version of Hank Aaron's finest blast without the feeling of "get the hell away from me you sons of bitches."
And Yankee lore is all about famous home runs. Reggie Jackson swung at 3 pitches on the night of October 18, 1977 when he made Burt Hooton, Elias Sosa, and Charlie Hough wish that they never dared to come to the Bronx. Three at bats. Three swings. Three long fly balls into the stands. Gotham was in pandemonium and all was celebration. The straw that stirred the drink had done it and proved to the world that it was he and not Thurmon Munson, then Yankee Captain, who was running the show with a little help from all of the clout that a 5 year $3 million contract (when that meant something - not this inflated era of just above league minimum pay).
But Jackson was what it meant to be in New York, leaving Oakland to come to the Bronx, he made his name over a half of a decade before moving on to California and back to Oakland to finish up his show with 563 jacks and 2597 strikeouts (in this, I'm sure he's hoping that Jim Thome gets 2 more full seasons). That said, strikeouts must be OK in the Big Apple. After all, Alex Rodriguez quietly has 1836 at age 34.
But all things considered, there is only one home run that has ever been hit in the house that Ruth Built (by a Yankee) that really moves me (the Pine Tar incident not withstanding):
Chris Chambliss - The Game 5 1976 walk off home run that ends with Yankee Stadium emptying onto the field so that Chambliss has to shove the fans out of his way.
Granted, I'm a Yankee hater, and I was a Brett fan. Had it not been for that home run, the Royals would have taken the game to extra innings on the strength of Brett's homer. However, the Yankees went to the World Series for the first time since the Maris era, and Steinbrenner had arrived as the owner he was to become.
In this, part of the game is loving the game and seeing its finest moments. Since this happened when I was 5, it wasn't like watching Aaron Boone. Hell, I feel nothing with Bucky Dent - I was 7 at the time and didn't follow baseball, but to lose the game now - to Jeter, A-Rod, or Cano... I'd feel that blast.
Chambliss was a thing of beauty - a more riotous version of Hank Aaron's finest blast without the feeling of "get the hell away from me you sons of bitches."
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Bob Gibson
There's something about watching a pitcher dominate a game that really says what a baseball game can be. I can still remember Pedro Martinez coming in to Baltimore in May of 2000 and annihilating the Orioles in a 15 strikeout 2 hit masterpiece complete game shutout (this became Bill Simmon's "Pedro and the Pantheon" in the book Now I can Die in Peace). The Orioles fans were gone, and Pedro was on mop up duty for that one. However, Pedro's best game was his perfect game that wasn't - June 3, 1995. He was still an Expo (and there still were Expos in baseball at the time). He made it 9 innings and 1 batter into the 10th, he let up a hit. Like Harvey Haddix, he was betrayed by an equally great opponent (Joey Hamilton, who let up 3 hits). However, his Expos won. Haddix's Pirates... not so much. Lew Burdette went 13 innings of shutout ball (and 12 hits, no walks) to win a shutout while Haddix let up 1 hit and 1 walk - enough to lose the greatest game ever pitched (registered trademark).
Larry Walker, an Expo at the time, said it best about Pedro...
"You just don't expect a guy weighing ninety-seven pounds to throw ninety-nine miles an hour. He's just very aggressive. I never really watched Bob Gibson pitch, but I get the feeling he's like a Gibson. If he has to throw one under your chin, he'll do it."
And Pedro was a man who owned the plate in the same way as Gibson did. My favorite Pedro moments involve him riling up his opponents. I still contend Don Zimmer got what he asked for. However, the fight with Jorge Posada... classic Pedro. But the best Pedro was starting a game off on August 29, 2000, by smashing a ball into Gerald Williams' hand. Williams got PO'ed and came after Pedro and wailed on him, but for all the anger that he had, the Devil Rays imploded for 8 full innings until God intervened and brought the no hitter (save the hit on Williams' hand) to an end after Pedro's cross necklace broke and he let up a double.
Gibson was much the same way. He owned those 17 inches. Roger Angell said that he was the most formidable and scary pitcher of all time when he spoke about Gibson for Ken Burns' Baseball. He once hit his former room mate high on the chest to show him that they weren't on the same team anymore. In 1968, he had a 1.12 ERA, but somehow went 22 and 9. How a man can do both of those things boggles the mind (save the Cardinals offense). In 1967, he won the World Series on the strength of a home run that he hit - finishing the World Series 3-0 with a 1.00 ERA. The man was a machine and a class act all around.
Summarizing what baseball meant, a pitcher has to get batters off his plate. Be it Pedro, the Big Unit, Bob Gibson, or Sal "The Barber" Maglie. As the Baseball Project sings... "high and inside."
In a game where Barry Bonds could wear tank armor on his arms in getting all of the advantage for home runs, we need something to take the edge away from hitters...
A little chin music will do nicely.
Larry Walker, an Expo at the time, said it best about Pedro...
"You just don't expect a guy weighing ninety-seven pounds to throw ninety-nine miles an hour. He's just very aggressive. I never really watched Bob Gibson pitch, but I get the feeling he's like a Gibson. If he has to throw one under your chin, he'll do it."
And Pedro was a man who owned the plate in the same way as Gibson did. My favorite Pedro moments involve him riling up his opponents. I still contend Don Zimmer got what he asked for. However, the fight with Jorge Posada... classic Pedro. But the best Pedro was starting a game off on August 29, 2000, by smashing a ball into Gerald Williams' hand. Williams got PO'ed and came after Pedro and wailed on him, but for all the anger that he had, the Devil Rays imploded for 8 full innings until God intervened and brought the no hitter (save the hit on Williams' hand) to an end after Pedro's cross necklace broke and he let up a double.
Gibson was much the same way. He owned those 17 inches. Roger Angell said that he was the most formidable and scary pitcher of all time when he spoke about Gibson for Ken Burns' Baseball. He once hit his former room mate high on the chest to show him that they weren't on the same team anymore. In 1968, he had a 1.12 ERA, but somehow went 22 and 9. How a man can do both of those things boggles the mind (save the Cardinals offense). In 1967, he won the World Series on the strength of a home run that he hit - finishing the World Series 3-0 with a 1.00 ERA. The man was a machine and a class act all around.
Summarizing what baseball meant, a pitcher has to get batters off his plate. Be it Pedro, the Big Unit, Bob Gibson, or Sal "The Barber" Maglie. As the Baseball Project sings... "high and inside."
In a game where Barry Bonds could wear tank armor on his arms in getting all of the advantage for home runs, we need something to take the edge away from hitters...
A little chin music will do nicely.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Ichiro Suzuki
In honor of the Baseball Project's Volume 2, the rest of this week is dedicated to the subjects of their songs, and for today, that subject is Ichiro Suzuki, who has been referred to as a $17million singles hitter, but that's not really all that he is. While he isn't the only Ichiro in the world of ESPN (Ichiro Chiba also pops up), but he is a 1-word name and a 10 year dominant force in the MLB.
From 1993 to 2000, he had 1,278 hits and batted well over .300 every year except his first year, which was limited to only 64 at bats. His high water mark was .387 in his walk year, and he even hit 25 home runs in one of his Japanese seasons. Like Ty Cobb who preferred the game of "small ball," Ichiro proved that he could hit home runs if he wanted to by hitting 15 in 2005, but for the most part, his game is about getting on base via the baseball bat (he's only walked 457 times in 10 American seasons, and only once did he have the patience to get 60+ walks). However, Pete Rose summed it up by saying that Ichiro is "the luckiest man ever to get that many infield hits." Rose then relegated Japanese ball to saying that "it's basically Triple-A ball."
Not hitting a country when it's down, but Japanese players have long known that to truly make their name, they have to be imports, and so they come to this country to be great. And when they do, their fans don't discard them, but they only love them more, which was shown in the battles between Ichiro and Godzilla (Hideki Matsui).
And for his country's love and his prolific rate of hits (5 more than George Sisler's former record from 1920 - 262 in 2004). In fact, 5 of his 10 US seasons are in the top 100 on Baseball Almanac. However, he's never hit .400 and unless he gets more patient, he won't either (the season that he smashed Sisler's record, he hit .372, which is still well beneath where he needed to be - mostly because he only had 49 walks. Sisler hit .407 in 70 less at bats with roughly the same amount of walks). That said, he's not even much of a doubles hitter, and while he can hit triples, those have declined as well. What he is is a solid get on base guy. When he's there, his rate of steals is 383 to 88 on successful versus caught stealing (roughly 4 to 1).
He's a hell of a glove man, too, but what he really is would be the level of success that Malcolm Gladwell talks about in Outliers. In short, Ichiro is 10,000 hours of practice, which is the level of practice that it takes to be great (not just good) at something. We hear about this in Ken Burns' The 10th Inning, and we've heard about it in many stories about Ichiro. Despite being the second son, he was named "The First Son" and he went on to follow in his father's dreams of baseball with a tiny bat at age 3. By his early days that would be equivalent to little league, he was hitting for 4 hours a day. A natural right hander, he learned to hit left handed to get an extra step out of the batter's box to move down to first base. Call it lucky or just call it another outlier. Like height for a basketball player and like birth day for getting into school and league, Ichiro was able to do something that many of us only dream 0f - standing in the batter's box and making it count.
And while he's never been to the World Series and he probably won't with Seattle's current team, he is an all star fixture. The last time that Seattle had a team, he was their MVP (2001). Oh yeah... he was the Rookie of the Year that season, too.
And if he's "just" a single's hitter, it should be noted that he twice led the league in INTENTIONAL base on balls.
So if Ichiro goes to the moon as the Baseball Project sing, don't you want to be there to see it happen? I know that I do.
From 1993 to 2000, he had 1,278 hits and batted well over .300 every year except his first year, which was limited to only 64 at bats. His high water mark was .387 in his walk year, and he even hit 25 home runs in one of his Japanese seasons. Like Ty Cobb who preferred the game of "small ball," Ichiro proved that he could hit home runs if he wanted to by hitting 15 in 2005, but for the most part, his game is about getting on base via the baseball bat (he's only walked 457 times in 10 American seasons, and only once did he have the patience to get 60+ walks). However, Pete Rose summed it up by saying that Ichiro is "the luckiest man ever to get that many infield hits." Rose then relegated Japanese ball to saying that "it's basically Triple-A ball."
Not hitting a country when it's down, but Japanese players have long known that to truly make their name, they have to be imports, and so they come to this country to be great. And when they do, their fans don't discard them, but they only love them more, which was shown in the battles between Ichiro and Godzilla (Hideki Matsui).
And for his country's love and his prolific rate of hits (5 more than George Sisler's former record from 1920 - 262 in 2004). In fact, 5 of his 10 US seasons are in the top 100 on Baseball Almanac. However, he's never hit .400 and unless he gets more patient, he won't either (the season that he smashed Sisler's record, he hit .372, which is still well beneath where he needed to be - mostly because he only had 49 walks. Sisler hit .407 in 70 less at bats with roughly the same amount of walks). That said, he's not even much of a doubles hitter, and while he can hit triples, those have declined as well. What he is is a solid get on base guy. When he's there, his rate of steals is 383 to 88 on successful versus caught stealing (roughly 4 to 1).
He's a hell of a glove man, too, but what he really is would be the level of success that Malcolm Gladwell talks about in Outliers. In short, Ichiro is 10,000 hours of practice, which is the level of practice that it takes to be great (not just good) at something. We hear about this in Ken Burns' The 10th Inning, and we've heard about it in many stories about Ichiro. Despite being the second son, he was named "The First Son" and he went on to follow in his father's dreams of baseball with a tiny bat at age 3. By his early days that would be equivalent to little league, he was hitting for 4 hours a day. A natural right hander, he learned to hit left handed to get an extra step out of the batter's box to move down to first base. Call it lucky or just call it another outlier. Like height for a basketball player and like birth day for getting into school and league, Ichiro was able to do something that many of us only dream 0f - standing in the batter's box and making it count.
And while he's never been to the World Series and he probably won't with Seattle's current team, he is an all star fixture. The last time that Seattle had a team, he was their MVP (2001). Oh yeah... he was the Rookie of the Year that season, too.
And if he's "just" a single's hitter, it should be noted that he twice led the league in INTENTIONAL base on balls.
So if Ichiro goes to the moon as the Baseball Project sing, don't you want to be there to see it happen? I know that I do.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Christy Mathewson
In 1986, America got sick of Khadaffy and his antics, which stapled him in blame to the German disco bombing that wounded over 200 people while killing 2 Americans and a Turkish woman. Ronald Reagan ended weeks of debate with the decision to level Libya for their actions and came within minutes of ending the Colonel once and for all in an action that came to be called El Dorado Canyon. Unfortunately, Air Force troops Fernando L. Ribas-Dominicci and Paul F. Lorence were killed when their plane was shot down in the attack.
Two years later, Libya was back in action when Abdelbaset Ali al-Megrahi began his actions that got him convicted for killing over 270 people in the Lockerbie bombing that took a jumbo jet right out of the sky. Two years ago, the British people gave him up. What Obama did or did not know aside, al-Megrahi went on to live his life free and suddenly not as terminal in the state of his cancer, but as the bombings of Libya began, we came to understand that he was apparently fingering Khadaffy for green lighting the terrorist attack.
Today, another American plane has crashed in Libya, and it's hard to think about baseball when the world is so confused and torn, so instead, I dedicate this post to the memories of Americans who have served and done what they had to do. And since this is baseball, I choose to focus on some of the baseball players who gave their lives and careers to the military.
Obviously, there was Ted Williams, Bob Feller, Hank Greenberg, and Joe Dimaggio, but there was Stan Musial and Monte Irvin. These were guys who went because they felt compelled to. They were men who were forced by circumstances to go. They were men who felt solidarity with fighting the Anti-Semitism of the time, at home and abroad.
But in World War 1, the most famous American baseball player to die was Eddie Grant of the Reds. Most American players worked in essential services when the league shut down, but some trained for future combat. These were men like Ty Cobb, Branch Rickey, and Christy Mathewson. In a training session for preparation for the chemical warfare attacks that were all too commonplace in the European theater, Christy inhaled poisonous mustard gas and he was never the same. The feeling of sputtering and coughing as his lungs inhaled the brutal mixture ended the career of one of the greatest pitchers that the game EVER saw.
And for that loss... just like Bob Feller and Ted Williams' stats that never happened... what are they really? They're the same sacrifices that many men have made and never heard about in the same way because they couldn't throw a fast ball or hit a home run.
To this, Bob Feller said it best:
"Baseball is only a game, a game of inches and a lot of luck. During a time of all-out war, sports are very insignificant. Life comes down to honesty and doing what's right. That's what's most important. Our Constitution is more important than baseball."
Two years later, Libya was back in action when Abdelbaset Ali al-Megrahi began his actions that got him convicted for killing over 270 people in the Lockerbie bombing that took a jumbo jet right out of the sky. Two years ago, the British people gave him up. What Obama did or did not know aside, al-Megrahi went on to live his life free and suddenly not as terminal in the state of his cancer, but as the bombings of Libya began, we came to understand that he was apparently fingering Khadaffy for green lighting the terrorist attack.
Today, another American plane has crashed in Libya, and it's hard to think about baseball when the world is so confused and torn, so instead, I dedicate this post to the memories of Americans who have served and done what they had to do. And since this is baseball, I choose to focus on some of the baseball players who gave their lives and careers to the military.
Obviously, there was Ted Williams, Bob Feller, Hank Greenberg, and Joe Dimaggio, but there was Stan Musial and Monte Irvin. These were guys who went because they felt compelled to. They were men who were forced by circumstances to go. They were men who felt solidarity with fighting the Anti-Semitism of the time, at home and abroad.
But in World War 1, the most famous American baseball player to die was Eddie Grant of the Reds. Most American players worked in essential services when the league shut down, but some trained for future combat. These were men like Ty Cobb, Branch Rickey, and Christy Mathewson. In a training session for preparation for the chemical warfare attacks that were all too commonplace in the European theater, Christy inhaled poisonous mustard gas and he was never the same. The feeling of sputtering and coughing as his lungs inhaled the brutal mixture ended the career of one of the greatest pitchers that the game EVER saw.
And for that loss... just like Bob Feller and Ted Williams' stats that never happened... what are they really? They're the same sacrifices that many men have made and never heard about in the same way because they couldn't throw a fast ball or hit a home run.
To this, Bob Feller said it best:
"Baseball is only a game, a game of inches and a lot of luck. During a time of all-out war, sports are very insignificant. Life comes down to honesty and doing what's right. That's what's most important. Our Constitution is more important than baseball."
Monday, March 21, 2011
Kirby Puckett
Spring has sprung. Life is good.
The Hold Steady have always been an incredible band. Sometimes, you'll hear them referred to as the best bar band in America. Last year's Heaven is Wherever was a fantastic CD that was even better than the previous effort Stay Positive, which was on constant rotation as were their previous album Almost Killed Me. Separation Sunday and Boys and Girls in America were really good, too. "Hurricane J" "Barely Breathing," and "The Weekenders" stood out on one of the best discs of the year or any year in ways that would make "Killer Parties," "Your Little Hoodrat Friend," and "Stuck Between Stations" proud.
This month, their lead singer Craig Finn is back with the Baseball Project, a combination of artists from a lot of 1980s alternative bands like Steve Wynn, Scott McGaughy, Peter Buck, and Linda Pittmon. Six songs into the disc (Volume 2: High and Inside) and his song "Don't Call Them Twinkies" not only stands out as the best song on the album, but it stands as one of the best tunes of the year.
Like most songs that he sings, he gets all home state proud for teams he never knew personally (the Harmon Killebrew era) to the modern team with Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau via the Kirby Puckett era and that great Jack Morris game 7 (we'll be saving that for another day).
In 12 years, Puckett did a lot to earn his reputation that took him to Cooperstown. He batted .318 and led his team to World Series victories in 1987 (against St. Louis) and 1991 (against Atlanta). He was a home run hitter when he needed to be and solid at the bat at all times. He was beloved to the point where he was mourned for both contracting glaucoma (a disease he went on to fight in charitable ways) and in early death as an enlarged version of his once athletic frame. Somewhere in between, he was charged with sexual assault and it was hard for Twins Nation to see him in that way and to see him as the great baseball player that he was.
So we never remember him for the other history - even if Sports Illustrated covered it thoroughly.
And that's probably for the best. Who wants to think of our heroes as womanizing and abusive scum on the outside? It's better to see them for the fact that they can hit game and World Series saving home runs in game 6 of 1991. And he did it in extra innings to prevent the complete 180 degree turn around that was the 1991 Braves dynasty ignition.
And for the fact that Finn can sing memories that bring us back to the good ol' days of a team that was almost removed from the league altogether in the 1990s (but not before New York could extract Chuck Knoblauch and his soon to be unreliable arm from them), we have something really good.
Sitting 4 songs into a CD that features several songs about the Red Sox, the Giants, Ichiro, Pete Rose, and Reggie Jackson, you'll find "Don't Call Them Twinkies." Pick it up, download it, and enjoy it as the final days before the baseball season begins.
The Hold Steady have always been an incredible band. Sometimes, you'll hear them referred to as the best bar band in America. Last year's Heaven is Wherever was a fantastic CD that was even better than the previous effort Stay Positive, which was on constant rotation as were their previous album Almost Killed Me. Separation Sunday and Boys and Girls in America were really good, too. "Hurricane J" "Barely Breathing," and "The Weekenders" stood out on one of the best discs of the year or any year in ways that would make "Killer Parties," "Your Little Hoodrat Friend," and "Stuck Between Stations" proud.
This month, their lead singer Craig Finn is back with the Baseball Project, a combination of artists from a lot of 1980s alternative bands like Steve Wynn, Scott McGaughy, Peter Buck, and Linda Pittmon. Six songs into the disc (Volume 2: High and Inside) and his song "Don't Call Them Twinkies" not only stands out as the best song on the album, but it stands as one of the best tunes of the year.
Like most songs that he sings, he gets all home state proud for teams he never knew personally (the Harmon Killebrew era) to the modern team with Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau via the Kirby Puckett era and that great Jack Morris game 7 (we'll be saving that for another day).
In 12 years, Puckett did a lot to earn his reputation that took him to Cooperstown. He batted .318 and led his team to World Series victories in 1987 (against St. Louis) and 1991 (against Atlanta). He was a home run hitter when he needed to be and solid at the bat at all times. He was beloved to the point where he was mourned for both contracting glaucoma (a disease he went on to fight in charitable ways) and in early death as an enlarged version of his once athletic frame. Somewhere in between, he was charged with sexual assault and it was hard for Twins Nation to see him in that way and to see him as the great baseball player that he was.
So we never remember him for the other history - even if Sports Illustrated covered it thoroughly.
And that's probably for the best. Who wants to think of our heroes as womanizing and abusive scum on the outside? It's better to see them for the fact that they can hit game and World Series saving home runs in game 6 of 1991. And he did it in extra innings to prevent the complete 180 degree turn around that was the 1991 Braves dynasty ignition.
And for the fact that Finn can sing memories that bring us back to the good ol' days of a team that was almost removed from the league altogether in the 1990s (but not before New York could extract Chuck Knoblauch and his soon to be unreliable arm from them), we have something really good.
Sitting 4 songs into a CD that features several songs about the Red Sox, the Giants, Ichiro, Pete Rose, and Reggie Jackson, you'll find "Don't Call Them Twinkies." Pick it up, download it, and enjoy it as the final days before the baseball season begins.
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