Adam Dunn

It's 10 days or so until the All Star Game, which is usually reserved as the halfway point of baseball. However, the official halfway point is now gone, and where are we? What do we have to say about the baseball season that truly sums it up?
In the 10th year of his career, Adam Dunn was a high stakes big money free agent that was supposed to get 40 big swings despite the fact that his average wouldn't be "great" and he would strike out a lot.
What did Ozzie Guillen and the White Sox get? Ozzie got even more high blood pressure than normal, which definitely causes him to tell it like it is and to have baseball columnists wonder why he's still in management (though I have to say that I think he's awesome). The White Sox got a .171 hitter in 234 at bats (he's seriously challenging Dan Uggla for futile zero of the year).
For the 7 home runs that they bought with $12million (ok - $6million since it's the first half of the season), they got 100 strike outs. While that's good enough for 2nd place (Drew Stubbs is still in first place with 112 - there's no catching abject futility, is there), there's a sign around Mudville (located on the otherside of Wrigleyville) that Chicago isn't going to be represented in the post season and next year will be another rebuilding year for both the south and the north side.
So while a player that should be hitting in 4 at bats every game for the first 85ish games could be doing some damage, he's getting about 2/3 of the at bats he could be getting because he's a liability. When you look at the facts - 1732 punched outs in 1517 games for his career - you see danger to the playing and the rooting and the paying. It's clear as day, but now he's an albatross for the White Sox. He's got 4 years and $56million to go for Obama's team, so we have to wonder... when will Ozzie crack and start kicking Dunn's ass like it was a catcher's mask?
On the other side of the Second City, there's Carlos Pena, who pretty much sucked all year, but is at least a little better lately. He's got 76 whiffs in 251 at bats. He's carrying a .219 average (.171 for the last week, mind you). He does at least have 17 home runs in the homey capacity of Wrigley, with it's wind blowing out in these nice summer days (the kind of thing which helps our favorite steroids mirages transcend from attitude to baseball altitude until they're asked to answer questions on the witness stand, eh Sammy Sosa).
Texas, Detroit, Oakland, Boston, Tampa Bay... and the Cubs... they're all trying and have tried to figure out what to do with a problem like Carlos in the same way that the White Sox are joining the Reds, Diamondbacks, and the Nationals in dealing with a problem like Adam.
At some point, baseball is going to say that we can't all be Rob Deer. We can't flirt with the Mendoza Line all year and hope that it will get better... especially when the home runs aren't clearing the walls... especially when the player needs to ride the bench to figure it out or because he is a liability.
It's times like this that the defensive play of David Ortiz... you know... he who isn't a true player because he can't make Terry Francona bench Mike Cameron or Darnell McDonald in favor of moving Adrian Gonzalez to the outfield in order to get Big Sluggi's 4 at bats in (at .300 batting average, mind you) actually seems like it's an over rated thing. Mind you - the fact Francona wouldn't play him all of the inter-league games - that's scary because once you get past Jacoby Ellsbury in the outfield, Boston pretty much sucks. JD Drew is fortunately about to get his unconditional retirement for the purpose of never letting Philadelphia fans chuck D cell batteries at him from the 600 level of Veterans Stadium again (in retrospect, the anger should have been celebration - other than the first September he played in 1998, he was pretty much hype over hall of fame).
So this brings us to the question - what is a baseball player supposed to be?
While many players look to crack the leagues, some veterans hold down spots just because. Other players play half of the game, although they do that well, and make us wonder about the logic of inter-league or the DH (or Astroturf - oops, I've come unstuck in time again). And maybe we wonder about other things, too, like a home run derby that will be shockingly devoid of names and power because the big boppers only bop, so they won't make it and the big names will probably opt out because they'll be too afraid to hurt themselves in a meaningless "exhibition" game.
Which only makes us wonder... what's wrong with this game today?

Joel Hanrahan

Who?
Ok. I get it. You don't live in western Pennslyvania. You don't live remotely close to western Pennsylvania so that you can watch ROOT, a network on television that carries the Pirates. You don't remember when the Pirates were good (hint - Barry Bonds still played for them) and thus, you still might root for them just because. You don't think of Sister Sledge and wonder if Andrew McCutchen could make this team family, too. You don't root for the Washington Nationals and follow their former players, no matter what way the wind takes them. You don't scan the highlights and stats of those obscure teams that time and better sense seem to have forgotten. You only think of Pittsburgh when Bud Selig threatens to contract another team and you hope that your team can get Andrew McCutchen because MLBTV and your fantasy magazines talk about how good he is supposed to be.
You're just clueless because Joel Hanrahan has 22 saves and a sub 2.00 closer ERA (1.24 and 0.94) for the season. Sure, he only has 1/3 of an inning over the minimal 1 inning per outing thing that makes most closers today so.... lame, but yeah... he's doing it for Pittsburgh!
And sure, Pittsburgh lost today, but they're still 39 and 38 after a weekend series with the Red Sox. And sure, it was at PNC Park, but folks... they had the biggest crowd ever on Saturday night to watch Hanrahan come in and shut the show down for the first 2 batters. Barring a missed opportunity to catch the 3rd out at the wall by Xavier Paul (something any other red blooded web gems seeking outfielder - to include Manny Ramirez - would have done) and thus, a runner on 2nd, he brought out the real fireworks - not the ones that came when the control booth let a few loose too soon hoping and believing that the end was real. And after Adrian Gonzalez (he who is currently tops in batting average in the majors) was eliminated, it was pandemonium. People were literally screaming for their Bucs like in the days of Andy Van Slyke... like in the days of Kent Tekulve and Dave Parker and Willie Stargell... like in the days of Manny Sanguillen... like in the days of Bill Mazeroski... like in the days of Honus frickin' Wagner.
And I'm not a Pirates fan, but I do appreciate the good things in baseball (even enough to eat crow on how I said the Red Sox would mow through them and the Padres - neither happened, I might add). Seeing a city that has been dead since 1993 return and rejoice. Man... that was nice.
And what does this mean? Sure, there are over 80 games left, and a team can go to seed, but a team can also believe in itself. They're 4 games out with the loss on Sunday, but this is the Pirates and it's June 26th and they're only 4 games out and they're above .500 and St. Louis is stick a fork in it done and Milwaukee is up front, but a few key series, a lot of hanging on, a lot of wins against underachievers like the Astros...
This is a team with a closer who looks like Eric Gagne without the glasses and the Canadian who might be getting some fist pumps of energy ready for the Three Rivers area.
And wouldn't that be nice?
Like Cleveland's turn around season (1 game out in 2 less games than Detroit - 40 and 36), we have to feel good about lots of teams in this (and few teams out - the Marlins, Astros, Cubs, Dodgers, and Padres - AND thanks to the Minnesota turn around (at least for a while) no teams that dead in the water in a non-respectable way YET in the American League (even though we all know who the pretenders are - Kansas City, Baltimore..).
So please... .forgive us our happiness and excitement if we get carried away, but methinks that my cousin's kids might actually be having a year worth remembering when it comes to baseball!

Matt Albers

The Padres tied the game at 3-3, but there seems to be this mentality on the Red Sox... open up and kill whatever comes at them without mercy. There's no prejudice. It's just attack, attack, attack. Last night was a 14-5 drubbing after the 10-run 7th. Sunday was a 6-run first off Yovanni Gallardo, who looked abysmal.
Monday, the Padres ended Wade Leblanc's no decision with a brutal drubbing that featured no home runs, but it did feature a lot of offense. Adrian Gonzalez hit a single and double in the 7th inning alone (3 RBIs for that endless beating).
Ellsbury is now batting .311.
Adrian Gonzalez is now batting a Major League leading .353.
Big Sluggi is now hitting .323.
And while Pedroia and Youkilis aren't exactly dominating, it's not like they're slouches and schlubs either.
In the end, while there were only 14 hits, the Red Sox took 9 base on balls. When the fear is there that a team is so scared to pitch to offensive dominence, it comes out in other ways. That's what happens when you have a pair of glorified AAA pitchers coming in to stop the bleeding, but instead, they let the dam burst all over the place.
And what a mess it was. The fact that Carl Crawford and JD Drew weren't even in the game and the fact that Jason Varitek and Mike Cameron were says that every night in June (save 3) has been a turkey shoot.
From humbling 0-6 beginnings, Boston is now a major league 2nd best 44-28 (they played 1 game less than the Phillies who have the best record). On April 15th, they were 2-10 after a loss to the Blue Jays, which followed up a sweep by the Rays. The only team that the Red Sox were beating was the Yankees (they still are - other than that 1 loss to the Bronx Bombers on that series, they've been brutalizing them in spite of Terry Francona's "managerial skills" (i.e. feeling his puppet strings pulled when it comes to replacing a pitcher or making a lineup.
Last night, mid reliever Matt Albers came in for the win. He now has a 3.08 ERA with a 2-3 record. He's not great. He won't be in Phoenix in a few weeks, but the role of the bullpen and pitching staff seems to be protect the division lead from the Yankees and the Rays and don't mess up worse than the offense can cover your ass. With Lackey sucking and Matsuzaka and Bucholz injured, it's a matter of carrying the team through the dark times and building up an insurmountable lead. We can live with that.
This week is San Diego and a better than usual Pirates team. In short, there are going to be a lot of wins. However, the followup series is against Philadalphia at Citizen's Bank. The World Series preview is about to be upon us. Fortunately, my refrigerator is stocked with Yuengling (the good stuff). Nothing like heating things up on the baseball burner when the weather is already 90 degrees.

Gerrit Cole

The draft is just what it is - unless we're talking about coming up unlucky with conscription, but all the same, Gerrit Cole has to be happy. His doubters look at his losing record and laugh, but as anyone with half a brain knows, wins and losses don't mean anything. Just because you're on a team with a crappy offense or because you have to apply for non-support doesn't mean that you're a bad player. It just means that you're unfortunate. That said, at least he'll be used to non support when he plays for the Pirates (although this year, they are a little better as they flirt with .500 at various points a few months into the season and they are only 2 games under at this point in time (28-30)).
We laugh at who goes first and second in pro sports. We laughed when the Houston Texans selected Mario Williams instead of Reggie Bush, but there were issues of who could afford Reggie Bush. A complete bust of a non-Kardashian career later, Bush is the guy who cost USC the National Championship (though in his defense, asking 18-24 year olds not to earn money JUST BECAUSE you've given them a full ride is asinine. If their parents are rich, they can give them beer and date money. If they're kids from the streets, well... suffer little children as you get caught for taking money and cars and jewelry and tattoos from rich donors everywhere (we feel your pain Ohio State).
And we can't blame Pittsburgh for what they can't afford or don't want to deal with heartache over. It's not like Pedro Alvarez and Scott Boras came through with an ability to match their holdout. Instead, they've got a guy hitting .208 and on the DL. One man can't change the culture of a team. At least not in MLB. Maybe in the NBA (and even then, Lebron isn't enough by himself - though he can make money at the gate). But for the Pirates scouting, they have 2 picks that had marginal talent in the Bonds-less past: Andrew McCutchen and Jason Kendall. Sure, McCutchen is touted as the 2nd coming, but he's not tearing up my fantasy league or the pros all that much. Jason Kendall is good and played for a while, but yeah... it's not like people are investing in his rookie card.
Looking at can't miss picks from number one of all of those who have played and had some degree of success, we have to look at the potential of our boy Stephen Strasburg (get well soon). We then find A-Rod, who despite hating his guts, we have to say that minus the steroids, he was the best can't miss prospect out of the league. Ken Griffey Jr. could have been great, but there were the injuries in the second half of his career. Joe Mauer could be be great as well, but he's injured so much that we don't really care what he can't do on MLB video games. Adrian Gonzalez has some upside, and we appreciate that - especially because he's finally earning his Boston Red Sox money. Josh Hamilton has a lot of upside as well - save the injuries, the smack, and the dalliances with drunken women who aren't his wife. Chipper Jones was really good too, but I never thought of him as the answer to the greatest player ever. He's a great player from an age who deserves to be remembered as being good in his age and being good for a great team during his age, but will he or should he be remembered longer than Dale Murphy was from his age?

And what of the ancients? Bob Horner? Harold Baines? Rick Monday? Tim Foli? Besides dressing up as Foli when I was a kid, there is no joy in Tim Foli land save a small town Pennsylvania Halloween parade. Baines is loved by the White Sox. Horner is pretty much forgotten outside Atlanta. Rick Monday saved the flag (we wrote about that). There are some 2 year wonders, and there is last generations Josh Hamilton (Darryl Strawberry) who always managed to blow his chances, but such is life. We can't all be perfect and this isn't about casting shame on those who aren't, but is there a possibility from number one. Can David Price continue to excel or will he end up being Floyd Bannister?
So many questions to wonder, but for now, we'll wish him and the class of 2011 the best and hope that they all end up great (same for Bryce Harper), but yeah... the minors aren't college ball, and they definitely aren't the majors. Keep working, though. The future will soon be here.

Jose Reyes

We talk a lot about rivalries here, and while I'm no Phillies fan spewing venom for the Mets, I really don't like any of the Mets. I don't know if I can say I really ever liked any of the Mets. No, it's not payback for Buckner's misplay in 1986, but I just can't say that anyone on the Mets is that great.
And while I'm not church religious (though I do point my finger to Heaven in thanks for the good things that I have been given and try to live my life in a way that would be what He wants), I know not to covet my neighbor's wife or my opponent's short stop.
And with that, I like Jose Reyes as much as I like a post-father in law fighting K-Rod, a slumping Carlos Beltran, an over-hyped David Wright, and a post Red Sox Jason Bay. That's to say that while I don't wish them will will, I'm just not moved by any of their stats or upsides to think that they represent anything worthwhile to the game of baseball - especially the game of baseball in Boston, which would mean mortgaging the future and paying big dollars to get them signed for a long time (and while we know Boston is more than willing to pay lots of little, they need to be more frugal and tighten their purse strings - especially those that would reach out to a shortstop like Reyes). And while it's not even real reaching out, the good folks at Bleacher Report have once again put smoke where there is no fire by saying that the Red Sox would give up on Jed Lowrie who has a .310 average with 3 home runs since replacing idiot move Marco Scutaro.
And if Boston is finally getting it together without Wacky Lackey and his DL stint (or time off to get his marriage together - whatever you want to call it) and with Carl Crawford finally getting out of the sub Mendoza basement from Hell as Adrian Gonzalez goes on a sick RBI tear, do we really need a Met with Attitude at short stop for a shot at post season glory?
Methinks not, but alas, when the Mets owner is trashing his team, we have to believe that there is something right in New York (not named Ike Davis). With that, we give you his classic one liners:
(on REYES)): He thinks he's going to get Carl Crawford money. He's had everything wrong with him. He won't get it.
(on BELTRAN): We had some schmuck in New York who paid him based on that one series. He's 65 to 70 percent of what he was. (didn't I call this the other day? I'm a genius, and I should be writing for ESPN).
(on WRIGHT): Really good kid. A very good player. Not a superstar.
So yeah... there is no love in New York... for the players or for Bernie Madoff who is even trying to play the ethical card by saying the Mets didn't know how they were screwed over by him. Yep... we believe, but that's not saying good things when the Mets (like the Dodgers) are looking to financially implode this year.
And while the fans in Philadelphia probably wouldn't care, let's just say that a part of baseball will die with this team sucking as bad as they are (just like in L.A.). And in a year of parity, that's saying something.

Adrian Gonzalez

The good news is that all is right with the USS Pujols... 2 home runs in a Dodger crushing celebration last night means that the universe - at least the one that exists in the NL East and hits .300, 30, 100, and 100 is back on pace. He may only be up to .241 with 10 RBIs and 4 jacks, but he's hot again, and for that, life is good.
Ichiro was off to a little bit of a slump, but 2 more hits puts him at .276. Once again, life is good, and all is right with the highest paid (and most effective) singles machine in the history of baseball (though Pete Rose and Ty Cobb probably have something to say about that).
And while Baltimore losing is par for the course, Boston dropping to 2-10 with a loss against the Blue Jays is a crime against humanity.
So let's try to figure this out.
Carl Crawford's 0 for 5 drops him to .135. He's making $142 million over 7 years.
Jacoby Ellsbury's 1 for 4 raises him to .195. Coming back from injury, he was a question mark, but still... he's better than this. After all, he's batting .288 for a career.
Marco Scutaro goes 1 for 3 to raise his batting average to .188. Sure, he was the subject of a movie called Player to Be Named Later, and he did once hit a 3-run game winning home run against Mariano Rivera proving that the sun can shine on a sleeping dog's ass, but still... and he's making $11 million over 2 years AND HE SUCKS.
And Jarrod Saltalamacchia, the catching option that was supposed to be the good one since the other option, Jason Varitek, is headed for AARP, is hitting .154 this year. He hit .167 in 2 less at bats of an injured season last year, but Theo the wonder child and Francona the puppet boy thought that they could make something of the lad... but it didn't work. Sure, he's a bargain basement $750,000, but still... you think that he could at least make the Mendoza Line. Save 1 good 2 for 4 game against the Yankees, and this guy is outright ejected from the pros.
And just like we talked about rewarding pitchers who do nothing in Boston, now, the 0 for 4 night for Adrian Gonzalez (dropping him to .244 with 1 home run and 7RBIs) gets him $154 million over 7 years.
The message of rewarding greatness is understood, but if it's not happening this year, what does it really mean? Are we just trying to be the biggest payroll ever to miss the playoffs? Does it mean that Baltimore and the Blue Jays can quake at who finishes in third in AL East as the Red Sox look to move on without JD Drew and his 5 years $70 million after this year?
The free spending and day dreaming hopes of the Wonder Twins ensures that just as Zan and Jayna were the dumbest cartoon superheros ever, Terry and Theo are the most useless front office pair to ever steer a baseball ship. I know I said that I want my team to slump as low as they possibly can if it gets them fired, but I don't know how much more I can take of this disaster of a season. We're now officially 2 games behind Houston and Seattle who were both dead in the water before the season started. We're 7 games behind 2nd place Kansas City who was also marked for death. Even Pittsburgh who hasn't had a winning season since 1991 is 4 games better than us and their best players are looking for July trades as opposed to playoff dreams in western Pennsylvania.
What does it say? Worst baseball summer in Boston since 1960's 65 and 89? Even the futility of World War 2's player depletion in 1945 hasn't looked this bad - especially with a payroll of $160million.

Mark McGwire

While sitting with my teacher friend Dale, the subject of great baseball players is always bound to come. He’s in his early forties and I’m in my late thirties, so it wouldn’t be wrong to think that we would tend to reflect on the 1970s and 1980s as the glory days of baseball, but for the most part, you would be wrong since the greatest games for us were the ones that we weren’t even alive to see. In no small part, we owe a mega burst of gratitude to Ken Burns for his contributions to the history of baseball because it’s clear to see that Major League Baseball has no respect for the history of its game unless it’s for its fan to buy the latest current slab of what happened this year as a DVD at the end of the season.
If they had any foresight at all, they would instead be focusing on the ability to post lots of historic video of the past online for all generations to see. The fact that any time anything really cool happens, let’s say Jacoby Ellsbury stealing home off of Andy Pettite two years ago, it’s up for a day or so on Youtube and then the backwards thinking bastards that be choose to have it pulled down out of copy right protection concerns. Now, I’m not saying that it has to stay on Youtube, but couldn’t MLB start a pay per view library service so that any time I want to watch something great happen, say watching Albert Pujols jack a Brad Lidge pitch into the wall of Minute Maid Park to keep the Cardinals alive for one more game, I can salivate over the memories of the past?
However, this is impossible, and other than the history of baseball up until 1990, I can’t watch any of the real great players of history focused upon. Thus, to dream about Brooks Robinson throwing deep to first from deep in the corner, I have to go to the third greatest gift that my wife ever gave me, and watch the celluloid footage of that World Series game to see what the heroes of the past were truly like. What will the kids of today have to do in order to watch Dustin Pedroia and Matt Holliday star for the Red Sox and Cardinals? How will these youngsters know why Adrian Gonzalez is or isn’t worth mortgaging the future for in an offseason trade that is supposed to tip the balance of all things?
Simply, they won’t - at least until ESPN or MLBTV say it's so OVER and OVER and OVER again.
And for the same reason that MLB has no concern for its history, we won’t know how “great” the steroids era players were because it’s easy to say that the media was duped into reporting how great they were to make up for the fact that baseball went on strike and killed the World Series in 1994, and their apologies are word enough for the rest of the impressionable youngsters of today to throw away their parents’ baseball card collections, but to still retain hopes in the present - especially that somehow Whiff King Ryan Howard isn’t tainted, and even though Alex Rodriguez is slightly dented, his “apology” and “great play” in the 2009 World Series makes up for everything – unlike Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, Sammy Sosa, and Mark McGwire who will forever wear their scarlet letters for eternity and then some.
However, for those people willing to look back on baseball history, they would see that Major League Baseball did memorialize Race for the Record on VHS, which is still available for $1.99 on E-bay. Nevertheless, I have my copy and have cherished it since the fall of 1998 when it first came out. I don’t make apologies for owning it. Mark McGwire was and still is my favorite player of all time. Steroids or not, the summer of 1998 was a magical moment that made me who I am. For that, it’s as important to a baseball story in 2011 as it was to a baseball story in that magical summer of a dozen years ago.
And while I liked other players from that time period when I was younger and more concerned about this sport than anything around me, I find the moments of that season to be almost (but not quite) as special as the moments of my marriage and courtship, which took place over the last few years. In that, there was a day that I would have went into a winter of depression having seen the Yankees win, but frankly, I didn’t feel more than a slight sting for what had transpired against Philadelphia’s weak pitching staff (sorry Cliff Lee and game 2 Pedro, you tried) and sorry ass strikeout king (sorry Chase Utley, at least you tried unlike your counterpart) because of the perspective that I have for where my life is with my beautiful wife besides me.
And it's great to have Tim Lincecum take down Cliff Lee, but it's not the same as spending vacations and time in general with my wife. Five years ago, that would have been something, but now there is adult and the memories of the great games of youth that still drive me back to the game for a well-placed second place in my life.
So before this gets all soppy, I should get back to baseball, and say that like Dale, I find it hard to find interest in players the same way that I did when I was younger. Maybe it’s being married and redoing a house and contemplating children and the Arizona / Utah border vacation that I want to get back to for some summer week that keeps me from thinking of some of these players in the way that I did when I was younger, but in part, I don’t find them as magical. Their interviews are generic. The plays were done better by other players in the past, and I’m not ready to believe in anyone new, other than Albert Pujols and Ichiro Suzuki in the way that I once believed in Ryne Sandberg, Paul Molitor, Curt Schilling, Pedro Martinez, and David Ortiz. The play of the past few years and the less than believability that is associated with Dominican birth certificates has come to take its toll on me. For that, this blog is an exercise to getting back to the great players of the past and comparing their deeds to those of the current crop of players that seems to be changing incredibly from what it was even five years ago. Will Tim Lincecum and Jon Lester become the next Walter Johnson, Cy Young, Bob Gibson, Sandy Koufax, or Bob Feller? One can only hope.
As the Ramones sang about their own existential void, probably not the one that wonders if Joe Mauer will ever be the next Josh Gibson and which anonymous rookie could be the next Roger Maris, Honus Wagner, Satchell Paige, or Ted Williams, but the wonder about another time where it feels as good as the magical moments of the past, “Nothing makes any sense, but I still try my hardest. Take my hand. Please help me man. 'Cause I'm looking for something to believe in.”
And for that, I leave you with the words from Eureka, Nevada, my unfinished first novel:

"I woke up and walked to the newspaper, looking at the Sunday sports headlines that said that Mark Mcgwire had been thrown out for disputing a called third strike the day before. The fans were irate and with good cause. The call was rotten and just like the media who were doing there best to put a damper on Big Mac’s quest for 62, the umpires weren’t cutting him any slack either.
Mcgwire’s angst was justifiable. He had been forced to endure the what he did, what he didn’t do and the will he break the record as he stood out as the sole highlight on a horrible St. Louis team. All the while, Sammy Sosa was hitting his homeruns, deferring the questions to Mcgwire and watching his Cubs fight for the division title.
I was tired of the drive. I was tired of the wait. I wanted to be in St. Louis, and that was where I was heading at the moment. I packed up and was off, though I found out that it was an evening game rather than a day game, so I would be driving in slower than I thought that I would be.

If only I was a little farther down the road, then life now would make more sense. At that moment it was all just a highway that took me to St. Louis, a game that would change my life, a perfect moment filled with more positive emotional content than an entire yearlong relationship would leave me. I was destined to be in St. Louis that evening, but first I was off to Mark Twain Lake and museum, which was somewhere in the empty middle of Missouri’s rolling forest land. I walked around, admired the sights, and thought of baseball. I was killing time.
A few hours later, I was at the game. I parked the car and ran up towards Busch Stadium and a sea of red shirts and signs.
“Go Mark Go.”
“Make it a great 1998.”
Even before I got to the game, there were signs such as the Billboard above Highway 70 that listed Mcgwire’s homerun total at the moment. St. Louis was alive with Mcgwire at the moment. The Braves, despite their perennial power in the East Divison of the National League were in town, but their fans were non-existent. This was St. Louis, home of the Cardinals and a special place that was filled with something that couldn’t be described, but rather could be felt in some special way, through some special sense. We were all a part of it and as I walked inside of the Mecca that was Busch Stadium, I knew I was in the presence of something.
Realizing the game was on ESPN that evening, I called my dad, begged him to tape it, and we talked about the trip, the Cardinals and what I was going to do after the game was over. It was a whirlwind of explanations, but only one mattered – get the game on video. I hung up, read my program and waited to watch the game.

From the stadium, you could see the St. Louis skyline. Several hotels and the great Arch line the Mississippi river, which lies off in the distance from Left Field. I took several photos, watched batting practice, and then the Star Spangled Banner played as 44,000 fans took to their feet in a mix of patriotism and a feeling that everything was right again with the national pastime after a horrible strike took out the 1994 season and World Series.
Today, the Cardinals were taking on Kevin Millwood, a hot young pitcher who was bolstered by a strong Atlanta offense that saw 2 homeruns by Andres Galarraga bring their team out to an early lead. I was dejected and angry, but still I watched, un-swayed by the lead that had arisen, and crossed my fingers and prayed to the Baseball God that everything would be made right in the universe.
On Mcgwire’s first at bat, he walked. The second at bat was a single, keeping his day perfect, and then came a double in the third plate appearance. Big Mac was 2 for 2.
When Mark Mcgwire stepped to the plate in the 7th inning, the sky was dark and the flashbulbs exploded as the crowd got to their feet to signal that now was the time. There were 2 men on and the cards were down 7-5. Millwood had been removed, and Dennis Martinez, one of the most dominant Latino pitchers of the time stepped to the mound knowing that he had never let up a hit to the man. His fate was sealed with that announcement on the Busch scoreboard.
After this, the at bat is a haze. I don’t remember what happened prior to it, but Martinez threw, Mcgwire swung and took the ball deep. I was on my feet as was everyone else and we were willing it to go. I didn’t want to believe it would go because it was hit long, since I wasn’t one of those people who ooh at every single long fly ball to centerfield. I was silent in that all of my energy was in my stomach, bottled down, unable to come up, I was breathless and I was focused on that moment, when the ball cleared the fence and I was still silent as I stopped to gather in the fact that my boy had launched a 501-foot blast off of Dennis Martinez to straight away centerfield. This 3 run shot, number 55 on his quest to 70 for the year, a mark that would shatter Roger Maris’ 37 year old record, left ever single one of the 44,051 fans on their feet.
Everything came out and I was screaming in complete jubilation at the moment. For lack of a better word though my mom would understand, it felt orgasmic. It felt like an eternity that the fans cheered and screamed, jumped up and down, gave high fives to each other and hugged. And there I was, hugging and cheering and high fiving strangers as I stood in the magic of a moment that was meant to last for an eternity, but vanished beneath a cloud of sorrow as even this mighty record was forced to give way to another. Yet at that moment, Barry Bonds didn’t matter, since every time I think of that laser beam, I think of my goose bumps and how I wasn’t sure if it was gone, but it was. It was a culmination of a summer spent rooting for heroes, questing for gold and finding it just as Mark did. The tragedies of Roger Maris and my later years wouldn’t and didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except being there in the middle of section 240 and the post-game fireworks as all of the fans scuttled down to the parking lot and drove out, knowing full well that we would be unable to sleep. This was one of those moments in time, and for me, it was so much more.
It was and is the greatest moment of my life, a culmination of a summer, a trip across America in search of all that was and could be, and it was America to me on that late August night."

Adrian Gonzalez

For the past few years, we have been inundated with discussion on the trade possibility of Adrian Gonzalez who seemed to have a ton of upside since he was allegedly playing in a park as big as the one that Willie Mays yanked Vic Wertz's flyball out of the sky in, but let's be honest 396 to center is not 483 feet, but then again, Fenway is a more intimate affair, so that's a plus for his statistics now that the trade is in the books, the hope is in the fans, and the man is in full PR mode.
So the great white hope pulled a .298, 31, 101 line last year knowing that what he did was going to help both the Padres win the division (of course, they imploded in the last few weeks, which was still a feat considering that other than Gonzalez and pitching, they really didn't have much last year) and help himself win a contract with another team.
So let's be honest with that line... there are 2 years in his career with more home runs (he did hit 40 once) and he did bat 300 once (304), but we're looking at good value (under $5million) for what seems to be about $15million of production in baseball money (which is less real than the leprechauns dancing under rainbows, Sasquatch sightings, and Loch Ness Monster pictures).
His whiffs are down a little bit, but he's not getting 600 at bats (almost, but not quite) either like he was in those 140 K years.
In his year in the playoffs, he was 5 for 14, so that bears well, but can he handle the Boston media? San Diego is a friendly town that isn't quite so media "intense" as Boston. How will he react to the big games against the Yankees? Can he meet expectations?
Gonzalez now stands on first base and moves Youkilis to third, which moves Mike Lowell to improving his golf game. Back in the day, Mike Lowell was a hero (as recently as the 2007 World Series), but then he got old, and the Red Sox wanted to jettison him to anyone who would have his memories as modern hopes, but the physicals that he took to reveal the damage of a career in baseball kept him and his salary in Boston. He hobbled through, a warrior to the end in spite of Theo Epstein's business approach to baseball in Boston (the same thing that sent famed Idiot Kevin Millar packing instead of making him a bench coach). The same approach that allows Jason Varitek's memories to stay at a discount for another year instead of making him a bench coach. The same approach that broke Dave Roberts' heart when it brought it to Boston just long enough to steal the base that made him as heroic as Paul Revere only to spit on it by sending him away the next year. If there's not enough hate for Theo Epstein here, give me some time. I'll get to all of the reasons why he and Francona need to go - in spite of what they did for 2004 and 2007. There's a year; it will all come out in the wash.
Baseball in Boston (and St. Louis, for that matter) is a beautiful thing; however, I don't have to like the whole team, and I especially don't have to like the team's management.