Saturday, November 18, 2006

Irony...

Two bizarre items culled from the the Griddle.

First, remember the Lehigh Valley IronPigs? Apparently there's a motorcycle club down in Texas called the Iron Pigs™, who've trademarked their name, and are challenging Lehigh Valley's use of "their" name. I'm not sure what the grounds for challenging will be, since I don't see how the person on the street could mistake a AAA baseball team for a bunch of bullying ex-cops on bikes, but what do I know?

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Second, when the grim reaper gets a post-it with your name on it, there's not a whole lot you can do about it. Bob Cartwright, a friend of flight instructor Tyler Stanger, was telling everyone who would listen that Stanger had invited him along on the fatal flight that took the lives of Stanger and Cory Lidle, but he couldn't make it. It appears that the gravelings finally caught up with Cartwright on Tuesday, when he and two other men were killed in the crash of a light plane in California.

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Monday, November 13, 2006

Worst. Team Name. Ever.

When Ottawa's AAA franchise moves to Allentown in 2008, they will be called the Lehigh Valley IronPigs. (Yes, IronPigs is one word. Sigh.)

Thanks to Bob Timmermann at the Griddle for pointing this out.

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Thursday, November 09, 2006

Spahn, Sain, and Pray for Rain...

Spahn & Sain

First we'll use Spahn
then we'll use Sain
Then an off day
followed by rain
Back will come Spahn
followed by Sain
And followed
we hope
by two days of rain.

-- Gerald V. Hern


Sain and BoutonBack in the day, when my best friend Richie and I used to play All Star Baseball under the maple tree in my backyard, one or the other of us would almost always pick Johnny Sain to pitch for our team. To be honest, I knew nothing about Sain as a pitcher. He'd retired when I was two. What I did know, based on his ASB disk, was that he'd been a heck of a hitter for a pitcher. Each player in ASB was represented by a disk that fitted over a spinner. You spun, and the outcome of the at bat depended on which numbered arc the spinner ended up in. (If it was on a line, we called "foul ball" and spun again.) The size of the arcs were based upon the players' actual stats. Sain didn't have much power (homers were "1"), but he hit a ton of singles ("7" and "13"). Plus, he hardly ever struck out ("10"). You really couldn't ask much more from a pitcher in a game in which pitching had absolutely no effect on the outcome.

When I got older, I read Ball Four, in which Jim Bouton sang Sain's praises as a pitching coach. (We had Bouton in ASB, too, but he hardly ever got in. I mean, look at all those frelling 10's.) Everyone who worked with him seemed to think he was the best pitching coach in the game. Leo Mazzone, probably the best pitching coach in baseball today, was a pupil.

Johnny Sain passed away Tuesday at 89. He was a terrific pitcher, a terrific coach, and a pretty decent hitter, too. Rest in peace.

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Saturday, October 28, 2006

Tigers in Three...

Oh. Wait...

The Cardinals won the World Series last night, finishing off one hell of an improbable playoff run. Nobody, and I mean not even die-hard Cardinal fans, thought that the Cards had a chance to win it all when the season ended. After starting the season like a house afire, they limped home due to injuries and abysmal pitching, backing into the playoffs only because the Astros managed to lose their games in the final weekend. Few picked them to get by the frelling Padres for crying out loud. When they got by the Pads, and then the Mets, excuses were made for the teams that lost. The Tigers, a team that hardly distinguished itself down the stretch, blowing a huge lead over the Twins and falling into the wild card slot on the final day of the season, were installed as overwhelming favorites. A number of sportswriters went so far as to jokingly opine that the Series would only last three games, because the Tigers would crush the Cards in the first three games so badly that Bud Selig would be forced to cancel the fourth game for humanitarian reasons. Now folks are decrying the Cards as the worst team to win a World Series ever.

Piffle.

Last year, playing with mostly the same players, the Cards won 100 games. the year before that they won 105. This group of players has been very good for a long time, and their experience showed in the playoffs. They don't make many mistakes. More than that, baseball is a game of streaks. Unlikely players get hot, and entire teams get hot, and that heat carries them through. The Tigers got some of that with Kenny Rogers, but he could only pitch every fourth day. OTOH, the entire Cardinals pitching staff caught fire in the playoffs. Anthony Reyes, arguably the worst pitcher EVER to start the first game of a World Series, threw eight innings of four-hit ball in game 1 for the win. Last night it was old friend Jeff Weaver doing the same the close out the Series. I was glad to see Weaver get the win. He's had a terrible season, even getting released by the Angels to make room for his little brother. Still, he did yeoman's work for the Dodgers in 2004 and 2005, so I'm happy for him.

Meanwhile, the Tigers very much resembled the Cleveland Indians team of has beens and never will-bes assembled in the movie Major League. There was Pudge Rodriguez playing aging catcher and team leader, Jake Taylor, Magglio Ordonez as the enigmatic and streaky Pedro Cerrano, and crusty Jim Leyland as crusty manager Lou Brown. Justin Verlander became fireballing rookie Rick "Wild Thing" Vaughn, while Kenny Rogers played the part of crafty old Eddie Harris, who never met a substance he didn't want to apply to a baseball. And like that team, the Tigers didn't win the World Series (which you don't find out until you watch Major League II).

To be honest, I didn't watch much of the playoffs, especially once the Dodgers departed. Fox's coverage is just so awful. At least last night I could watch It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown instead of watching Kevin Kennedy and Jeannie Zelasko. I mean really, there are good female baseball announcers out there, women who earned their baseball announcing gigs through hard work and experience. Suzyn Waldman comes to mind. Zelasko wouldn't know a baseball if it hit her in the face. Fox has the baseball contract now through 2013. Ratings this year were the lowest ever. Fox has managed to drive away both casual fans (by not starting the games til almost nine o'clock on the East Coast), and hard core fans (with their terrible kiddie show coverage). By 2013, there may be no body left watching.

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Wednesday, October 11, 2006

R.I.P. Cory Lidel

It's weird. One of my flashbulb memories is the moment I heard about Thurman Munson's death in a plane crash. I was in grad school, and a bunch of us were having beers down at Iggy's, the closest bar to campus, when the local news came on TV. (No cable in those days in RI.) It was a shocking moment, and even the Sox fans in the group drank to his memory.

I doubt that today will remain with me like that. Events unfolded to slowly, and work was busy, so I didn't pay much attention. People were mentioning the crash, but it was a small plane kind of far from anything symbolic, so I assumed it was just a peculiar accident. And so it was.

When I got home, they'd just found out that it was owned by Yankee pitcher Cory Lidel. That was a bit of a stunner. And just weird, too. You never expect to discover something about a high profile incident that makes it even more high profile.

I logged in over at the Toaster, left condolences at Bronx Banter, and then got involved (along with a some others) in a mild kerfuffle at DT with someone jumping to some extreme conclusions. Meanwhile, there was a troll attack on Bronx Banter as the fans there were coming to grips. People suck.

It'll be interesting to see just what happened. It sounds like something malfunctioned, but that's only from reports I heard on the news, which seems to think that rumors and facts are the same thing.

Damn, I miss Iggy's.

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Saturday, October 07, 2006

Buck O'Neil, 1911-2006

Buck O'Neil

"There's nothing like getting your body to do everything it has to do on a baseball field. It's as good as sex; it's as good as music. It fills you up. Waste no tears on me. I didn't come along too early. I was right on time." -- Buck O'Neil


Buck O'Neil passed away last night at the age of 94. O'Neil played in the Negro Leagues, was the first black coach in the Major Leagues, was a scout (he signed Ernie Banks and Lou Brock, among others), and spent his later years as an ambassador for the game. The only good thing about Ric Burns's Baseball documentary was that it introduced Buck to the world at large. My favorite moment of the entire series is his rendition of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame."

Buck O'NeilEarlier this year he became the oldest man ever to play in a professional baseball game, suiting up for both teams (he was "traded" midway through the game) in the Northern League All-Star Game, and drew a walk for each team in his two at bats. It was a nice thing to do for him after organized baseball snubbed him yet again when they failed to elect him to the Hall of Fame (while electing 17 other Negro League legends) back in February. It's one of the few times Buck seemed perplexed. Not bitter or angry, but as he told Keith Olbermann, "You know, I could play a little." Olbermann, for his part, did get angry, and had this to say about the wretched state of affairs.

Still, it didn't seem to get Buck down, and when all the folks who were elected were inducted, it was O'Neil who went to Cooperstown to do the honor of introducing them. The sad thing is that at the same ceremony, Rachel Robinson said about the inductees, "You always wish things can be done in a timely manner. Clearly, you wished people would be available to enjoy the awards and the accolades." Buck O'Neil won't be around next time.

Alex Belth did a terrific interview with O'Neil some years ago that really seems to give a good sense of the man. The NY Times obituary is here. He was a wonderful man who died too soon. Sad now.

eta: Here's some additional stuff on Buck. First is the full text of an interview did as part of the episode of Baseball on the Negro Leagues. The second is a brief remembrance of fellow DT'er Eric Enders over at the Griddle.

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Friday, October 06, 2006

One Ugly Play...

I was listening to Wednesday's Dodgers-Mets game via MLB audio, and immediately following "the Play," Vin Scully told a great old joke about the Daffy Dodgers of the late twenties. One Brooklynite sees another peering through a hole in the fence at Ebbets Field, and asks him how the game is going. The second man replies, "The Dodgers have three men on." The first man then immediately asks, "Oh yeah, which base?"

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Tuesday, October 03, 2006

October Madness...

Baseball playoff prediction limericks.

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Saturday, September 23, 2006

Supposing Mozart, or One of That Crowd...

...had tried writing a book about baseball?

Triumph and Tragedy in Mudville: A Lifelong Passion for Baseball is a collection of short pieces Stephen Jay Gould wrote for various magazines and newspapers, published shortly after his death. It is the most boringest book about baseball I've read in a long time. That surprised me, because when I'd seen Gould on TV he was generally interesting (except for the awful Simpsons ep that he phoned in), and his books on evolution and biology are generally well regarded (although I haven't read any of them). I'm not sure what I was expecting, but this certainly wasn't it.

Part of the problem is that "various magazines and newspapers" bit. Gould has about five baseball-related personal anecdotes that he relates over and over again. Published in separate venues at different times, it probably wasn't all that noticeable. Collect those articles together in the same volume, and the third time in fifty pages that you read about him getting beat up in Brooklyn for being a Yankee fan it starts getting a little tiresome.

The other thing is that he is unrelenting in his quest to show exactly how erudite he is. Granted, his target audience for most of these pieces was the New York Review of Books crowd, but it begins to approach self-parody in some passages. In a piece on the Abner Doubleday myth, in which he discusses why we know far more about the history of cricket than we do about the "base ball" mentioned by Jane Austen in Northanger Abbey, he states:

The upper and educated classes played cricket, and the history of the sport has been copiously documented because the literati write about their own interests, and because the activities of men in power are well recorded...

Apparently, despite all his fancy book learnin', Gould never learned the meaning of irony. It crops up again in a review of George Will's Men at Work:
By the way, Will's thesis, if ever properly grasped, would forthwith and forever end the silly discussion about the supposed anomaly of why so many intellectuals love baseball, and why baseball, alone among major sports, has a distinguished literature [with Will's book as the latest entry]. We who have loved and lived with the game all our lives feel no need to mount a defense against such ignorance.

That "defense against such ignorance" is, of course, exactly what both he and Will are doing in their respective works. The whole smarter than thou schtick gets annoying fast. There really is no legitimate excuse for using the phrase "fin de siècle" when "end of the century" works just as well and doesn't require checking the dictionary to figure out what the frell he's talking about.

There are some bright spots. His biographical sketches, especially those of Jim Thorpe and Dummy Hoy, are well worth reading (although the piece on Barry Bonds seems naïve now, but we have more information than Gould did), and there are a couple of pieces in which he flexes his scientist muscles that are interesting. Mostly, though, it's listless and boring. I have a theory that this may partly result from the almost inconceivable notion that he considered himself a fan of both the Yankees and the Red Sox. The only explanation I can think of for this sad state of affairs is that in the era in which he moved to Boston from New York there was no rivalry from the Yankee perspective. Sox fans hated the Yankees, but Yankee fans didn't give the Sox a second thought. Anyway, it means that all his fannish passion had to be carefully controlled, like matter and anti-matter, lest it explode. Despite the title, there just doesn't seem to be a lot of passion here.

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Monday, August 14, 2006

More Baseball Cards

I mentioned baseball cards not long ago, and I suppose it should come as no surprise that there is at least one baseball card blog. I wouldn't even mention it, except that I happened across the most recent entry about the numbering system used on Topps cards in the sixties, and was very much surprised. Dude! There was a system? I collected those cards, and I never even suspected there was some sort of system to the way they were numbered. Well, maybe I might have noticed that the really big stars all ended in "00," but if I did, I totally forgot about it.

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Meanwhile, another story on how the, er, bubble burst on card speculation, and what Topps plans to do about it.

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Sunday, August 13, 2006

Dodgers 1, Giants 0, 10 Innings...

Russell Martin!!!!!

And dayum! Greg Maddux was terrific. As was Jason Schmidt, but I mean, really... Eight innings, only two hits, and 22 batters in a row retired on a measly 68 pitches? 68 pitches doesn't even get Chad Billingsley out of the third inning.

The Dodgers came out of the All-Star break losing 13 of 14, falling into last place. Since then they've won 15 of 16, and are back in first. There is always an ebb and flow to the baseball season, but the Dodger season has ebbed and flowed like the great Typhoon of '44. The losing streak was an awful thing, but it's helping keep the current streak in perspective. Still, I like their chances at this point.

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Thursday, August 10, 2006

Reloading...

So, having already shot themselves in the foot once, MLB Advanced Media are already reloading to do the same thing again. They are planning to appeal Tuesday's court decision that they they can't copyright factual data, and therefore can't charge licensing fees for the use of that data in fantasy baseball leagues. MLBAM is now going to try a different tack on appeal.

"We've agreed that the stats and names are in the public domain, but when you start to use teams logos and other images as CBC did, you need a license, it's that simple." -- Jim Gallagher for MLBAM

That approach will probably work, because now the case is dealing with trademarks rather than dubious copyright claims. The thing is that even if they win, it'll be a pyrrhic victory. Fantasy leagues don't really need team logos. The whole idea of a fantasy league is you draft a squad from the total pool of players, not individual teams. Putting a Cardinals logo next to David Ortiz's name on the draft sheet doesn't make him any more valuable in this context. (Video games, as I mentioned yesterday, are a different matter. There, you want to see the logo, and the uniform.) The fantasy leagues can just go ahead and remove the trademarked material, and go about their business.

King Kaufman had a good piece on this over at Salon yesterday in which he questions the economics of the whole idea, and whether it's worth the money MLB gets out of the deal to risk alienating its fans. The money baseball makes off of it is essentially chump change. With the last change in its licensing policy, MLBAM raised their fees somewhat, but they also reduced the number of companies it licenses from 19 to 7. Only the biggest media companies were allowed to stay, thus reducing the options available to the fans, and, you know, competition. It's all about control and power, and the fans take it up the rear once again.

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Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Chin Music...

Major League Baseball Advanced Media, i.e., MLB.com, the marketing arm of Major League Baseball, took one in the earflap yesterday as a judge ruled that MLB cannot copyright facts. I've mentioned the case before. MLBAM has been charging license fees to the companies that run fantasy baseball leagues for the use of its statistics, taking the position that MLB owns all the data generated from its games. Despite the dubious legitimacy of that claim, the fantasy leagues paid the extortion, as did the video and computer game makers. (This led to the current state of affairs where there is currently no licensed PC-based computer baseball game, because MLB granted an exclusive license to a company that only produces games for video consoles.)

MLBAM denied a license to one fantasy game company, so that company went ahead and used the stats anyway, and also filed a lawsuit against MLBAM to have the statistics recognized as factual information that is not protected by copyright. MLBAM argued that it was not about copyright, but instead about the right to publicity, i.e., the use of someone's likeness for profit. The judge didn't buy any of it, pretty much airing them out like Charlie Brown on the pitchers mound in rejecting all of MLBAM's arguments in finding for the plaintiffs.

Maury Brown has the text of the decision here, and there's a brief discussion at the Griddle as well. One thing that was brought up over there is that video and computer games still aren't completely free and clear of licensing requirements, especially if they want to use things like team logos and uniforms. It should be a boon to text-based games, like Strat-o-Matic and Out of the Park baseball, though.

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Tuesday, August 08, 2006

You Gotta have Heart...

Distractions of the baseball Sort...

Fausto Carmona of the Indians had a very bad week, becoming only the second pitcher in major league history to lose four games in relief in only seven days. He not only lost them, he lost them spectacularly.

July 30 versus the Mariners, Fausto started the ninth with the score tied, 3-3. Three hits, two walks, and a hit batsman later, the Mariners were up 7-4, and Fausto was heading for the showers.

The next night the Indians were up in Fenway with an 8-6 lead when Fausto was brought in to pitch the bottom of the ninth. A hit, a walk, and a David Ortiz home run later, and the Sox were walking off the field as winners.

Two nights later, Fausto was again brought in to protect a Cleveland lead. This time it was 5-4 in the bottom of the ninth, but again he blew the save. It started out promising, as he struck out the first two batters, but then he hit two guys in a row, followed that with a walk to load the bases, and then Mark Loretta doubles off the monster to bring in the tying and winning runs.

Fausto was then rested for a couple of days, but it didn't help. On August 5th, with the Indians up a run in the bottom of the ninth versus the Tigers, Fausto was called upon once again, and once again he blew it, giving up a single and a Pudge Rodriquez game-winning homer. Yikes!

One has to wonder whether Fausto badly misread the contract he seems to have made with Mr. Applegate.

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Ken Arneson found a bunch of unmarked baseball photographs in a second-hand store, and has been posting them as challenges to see if they can be identified. For the first two he posted folks have not only been able to identify the players and ballparks, but even the game and the particular play in the game from the clues in the images. It's fascinating stuff. Photo #1 was particularly impressive to me, because it hinged on uniform color, and the shape of a corner in the outfield grass.

Photo #1 - Photo #2

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Speaking of Arneson, he hasn't been able to post as often as he'd like over at Catfish Stew, so he's taken on an apprentice, Philip Michaels. Michaels's first post is very funny, taking Nick Swisher to task for forgetting a very old rule. There's even a little piece of Sondheim filk in the comments.

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Finally, there's a clear, concise explanatory piece on baseball's sometimes arcane waiver rules over at McSweeneys.

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Friday, August 04, 2006

No-No's and Toe Socks...

It's a rare thing to see the notation "3-5-1" in a baseball scorebook. Double play, first baseman to third baseman to pitcher. It'd apparently only occurred once in the majors in the last fifty years. Until last night's Dodgers-Reds game, that is. With a runner on first, the Dodgers put on a defensive shift against Ken Griffey, Jr., moving Lugo from second to short right field, and Furcal from short to the right side of second base. This left third baseman Wilson Betemit covering the entire left side of the infield all by himself.

As planned, Junior hit a sharp grounder into the teeth of the defense. Olmedo Saenz, playing first, made a terrific stop of the ball, and threw it to Betemit coming all the way over from midway between second and third to cover second. Betemit, who has a cannon for an arm, then threw on to Maddux covering first, just like it's drawn up in the playbook. 3-5-1.

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Of course, the gimmicky defensive alignment is the main reason the play was even possible. This kind of alignment is being used more and more against powerful left-handed hitters. Ortiz sees variations of it a lot, as does Jason Giambi, and Grady used it against both Griffey and Dunn in the Dodgers-Reds series. When it works, like on the 3-5-1, it's brilliant. I just don't know if it works often enough to be a smart play.

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The 3-5-1 wasn't actually the big story of the game. That was brand new Dodger Greg Maddux throwing a no-hitter for six innings in Cincinnati's bandbox of a ballpark. Then the rain came. When they finally took the tarp off some 45 minutes later, Maddux had stiffened enough that he and Grady thought that it would be better for the team if someone from the bullpen took over. It was a good decision. Beimel, Broxton, and Saito closed the door, and the Dodgers won 3-0.

It's a shame really. For all his accomplishments and 328 wins, Maddux has never thrown a no-hitter, at least, not since he was in Little League. (For that matter, neither has Roger Clemens, which is even stranger.) Jon Weisman did a nice piece on Maddux's decision, and the tradition of not mentioning a no-hitter in progress for fear of jinxing it, over at Dodger Thoughts.

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As a side note, lost in all the pluses and minuses discussed regarding Maddux's acquisition is that he is probably the finest fielding pitcher of his generation. Now, it's true that a pitcher's fielding ability is never considered when evaluating his worth to the team. Still, a good fielding pitcher can help, especially in the National League where pitchers sacrifice bunt a lot. Every little bit helps.

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Another thing Jon mentions in today's DT is an interview Takashi Saito did recently in the OCRegister. Nobody expected much from Saito when he was signed. He was 36, and his last couple of seasons in Japan weren't all that great. He has been a godsend this year, though, stepping in and pitching brilliantly in the closer's spot when it became clear that Baez couldn't cut it.

Anyway, here's Saito on how to avoid the agony of da feet:

Dodgers reliever Takashi Saito revealed the secret to his success - his socks.

The Japanese right-hander said balance is "the most important thing" in his delivery. Maintaining that balance starts at the bottom.

"That's why I'm wearing five-finger socks," Saito said through his interpreter, giggling when he lifted his foot for verification. "I use them to grip the ground better."

Saito said many Japanese pitchers wear the socks that have separate tubes for each toe. He laughed when asked if he would try to persuade other Dodgers pitchers to wear them.

Using pantomime, Saito pointed at Jonathan Broxton and Mark Hendrickson and indicated they were large enough for staying grounded not to be a problem.

I think the cool thing is not so much that Saito wears toe socks, but that he can giggle about it.

Continue reading...

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

High Heat...

Wow! It is really, really, really hot outside. Yikes!

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So, the trade deadline came and went Monday afternoon, and the Dodgers were extremely active both in the days leading up to it, as well as at the deadline itself. Five deals in ten days with fourteen players moving hither and yon.

• First, Sandy Alomar, Jr. was shipped off to finish his career with the White Sox in exchange for minor league pitcher B.J. Lamura.

Alomar was originally brought in to help mature Dioner Navarro and occasionally catch. When Navarro got hurt, it turned out Russell Martin didn't need nearly as much maturing, and Alomar was only used as a catcher when Martin absolutely, positively couldn't go. When Navarro and Seo were traded for Hendrickson and catcher Toby Hall, Alomar's sole function became pinch hitting, a luxury role at best. So he goes off to Chicago where he maintains his residence.

The most interesting thing about Lamura appears to be that his name is almost an anagram of "Alomar," but at least he seems to be about even to Alomar in value. The key thing about this trade was that it cleared a roster space for Jason Repko to be activated. Repko was sorely missed.

• The next to go was Odalis Perez, who was exiled to the Royals along with a couple of minor leaguers to reacquire Elmer Dessens.

Perez seemed to have completely lost whatever pitching talent he once had (6.83 ERA), and he'd become disgruntled with the Dodgers' management. The problem as far as making a deal was the huge contract extension DePo had signed him to last year. In the end, the Royals took him, along with two A level minor leaguers, for Dessens, who is a mostly reliable middle reliever. The Dodgers also had to pay a good chunk of Perez's salary for next year.

There was much hue and cry that Colletti should've gotten more, or paid much less to get rid of Perez, but I don't think there was much he could do. Perez had pitched terribly, had copped an attitude, and had an enormous contract. Addition by subtraction. Dessens, who was with the Dodgers in 2004 and 2005, is nothing special, but he's pitched better than Perez.

• Colletti next tried to correct a mistake he'd made by sending Danys Baez and Willy Aybar to Atlanta for Wilson Betemit.

Baez was originally acquired along with Lance Carter in a much maligned trade with Tampa Bay. He had his good moments, but his bad moments were absolutely horrendous, blowing a couple of five-run leads this season. Aybar is a pretty good young hitter, who shows excellent plate discipline, although without a lot of power. The knock on him is his fielding. I'm not sure the knock is completely justified. His big problem with LA was that when he did make an error, it always seemed to be at the worst possible moment, and this seemed to make Little hesitant to use him in key spots.

Betemit is a bigger, better version of Aybar, and only a year older. Or two... Or three... There was considerable heated argument discussion or at DT regarding how old he actually is because apparently he forged a birth certificate so that he could sign with the Braves when he was still only fifteen. Not helping is the fact that various baseball reference sites are showing differing birth dates. Still, he has more power that Aybar (at least at this point in his career), and is likely a better fielder.

There were mixed feelings over this deal over at DT. Nearly everybody was glad to see the man who'd been nicknamed the "Cuban Missile Crisis" in another uniform. OTOH, very few especially wanted to lose Aybar, a prospect who seemed on his way to be fulfilling his potential. The key is whether Aybar can become as good a player as Betemit appears to be, and there are legitimate arguments both ways. Right now, Betemit is the better player. Meanwhile, Baez's spot in the pen was taken by Brett Tomko, coming off the DL.

Then came the deadline, and it looked at first as if Ned was going to stand pat. By 4 p.m. EDT, there were no announcements involving the Dodgers, and DT collectively breathed a sigh of relief. The prospects were safe. Then at 4:05 came word of not one, but two deals.

• Cesar Izturis was traded to the Cubs for future Hall of Fame pitcher Greg Maddux.

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to praise Cesar, not to bury him. Alas, poor Cesar. He was the victim of a freak occurrence (I mean really, how many shortstops need to have Tommy John surgery?) In his absence, Colletti signed Furcal to play short, and when Izzy came back (way earlier than expected, I might add), he was told he had to play positions other than the one he'd won a gold glove at. He didn't complain, he just went out and played a brilliant third base. Then, when Betemit came over to play third, Izzy went to second, and fielded that position well.

The problem is that he just doesn't hit enough to play any position but short. Although he'd showed unexpected plate discipline in his rehab assignment, he went back to his non-walking habits upon his return to the bigs. He's got no power, and despite his speed, he can't steal a base to save his life. The best possible outcome for him would be a trade to somewhere he could play short.

Which is what happened. In return LA gets one of the greatest pitchers of all time. Unfortunately, he's forty, and on the downside of his phenomenal career. Still, he's probably the smartest pitcher ever, and he's moving from the friendly confines over to a pitcher's park. All he really needs to do is be better than Hendrickson, and folks will be happy. Also, given some of the head cases that inhabit the Dodgers' rotation, it's hoped that Maddux will be able to lead by example. Billingsley is the guy they really want him to take in hand, but maybe he can have a positive effect on Penny and Lowe, too. All in all, this trade should be a good one for the Dodgers.

• Finally, minor leaguers Joel Guzman and Sergio Pedroza were sent to Tampa for Julio Lugo.

The Maddux trade was announced before this one, and people were feeling pretty good. Ned had managed to achieve some good trades without having to give up any of our "untouchable" prospects. Then came the news that the man nicknamed "JtD" (for Joel the Destroyer) was yet another Dodger heading for Tampa, and all hell broke loose at Dodger Thoughts, both for and against.

Last year, Guzman was considered to be the number one prospect in the Dodger organization, a shortstop who put up monster numbers in Jacksonville. Since then, his stock has fallen somewhat. There were some doubts about whether he should really be at shortstop. His size and strength seemed a better fit with one of the corner positions, so this year he was tried at first, third, and the outfield. He was promoted to Las Vegas, but didn't hit right away in one of the best hitter's parks there is. He got a two-week cup of coffee in the bigs in June, but he showed he wasn't ready. Then he bitched when he got sent down. Meanwhile, guys like Kemp and LaRoche passed him on the depth chart, and the most logical positions for him to play were all filled. Many agreed that if we had to give up a top level prospect, Guzman would be the least upsetting.

At least, it was until it actually happened. It's not that Julio Lugo is a poor player. In fact, of all the trades Neddy has made with Tampa, Lugo's probably the only really good player the Dodgers have gotten. I wonder, though, why we need him. Now granted, both Kent and Nomar are on the DL, but their injuries aren't supposed to be serious, and when they come back there'll be a logjam. I'd presumed that was one reason why Izturis was traded. Loney should do fine filling in for Nomar, and Betemit could've played second while Kent was out, so why not bring up Laroche to play third?

Besides the not needing Lugo thing (which Colletti and Little disagree with), there's also the fact that Lugo will be a free agent at the end of the season, so the Dodgers are essentially renting him for two months at a very high price. However, there is a line of reasoning that say this approach could actually be a good thing. There's a good article over at armchairgm.com that lays it out. Essentially, since Lugo is likely to be a type A free agent come the fall, if the Dodgers offer him arbitration, and then don't sign him, they will get two first-round draft picks when he signs with another team. In effect, they will have traded two prospects for whom the luster has worn a bit in JtD and Pedroza for two shiny new prospects.

To me, that makes a bit more sense. It still doesn't explain Neddy's fascination with Tampa Bay. So far, we've gotten Lance Carter (exiled to Las Vegas because he stunk), Danys Baez (shipped to Atlanta because he stunk), Mark Hendrickson (actually fell off the mound while pitching this weekend), Toby Hall (already bitching about playing time, and wants to be traded), and Julio Lugo (whiffed on three pitches in his first Dodger at bat). Okay, the Lugo thing is a cheap shot.

So, all-in-all, it was a lively ten days. Ned didn't give up the farm, which is good, and only brought in one aging veteran, but at least he's going to the Hall of Fame. The one negative thing is that even though the Dodgers did not give up they're top propects, it continues to look like Ned is overpaying on some of these deals. he paid a lot to have Odalis removed, and Willy Aybar seems a pretty expensive throw-in just to get someone to take the Cuban Missile Crisis off our hands. Or is it that the value of those players was so low that it was the best he could do. Fortunately, the Dodgers had the resources to do it.

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Meanwhile, back at the Ravine, Jose Cruz, Jr., was DFA'd to make room for Lugo. I like Cruz. He's a decent fielder, and patient at the plate, but he'd slumped badly against righties this season, and with Ethier playing so well and Repko back he wasn't needed. Hopefully he'll catch on with someone who can use him.

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Speaking of designated for assignment, old friend Hee-Seop Choi was DFA'd by the Sox yesterday, mostly just to get him off the forty-man roster. It a heck of a blow for the sabremetrically correct, and not particularly good news for Choi, either, who was only hitting .207/.347/.361 at Pawtucket before going on the DL.

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And finally, MLB has come down hard on the Milwaukee Brewers. To quote the Griddle:

MLB has told the Milwaukee Brewers that they can't use the "Chorizo" in their nightly sausage races, according to the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel.

Yeah, that's the ticket. MLB is still "investigating" steroid usage by players, but when a franchise puts a guy in an unauthorized giant sausage costume, they're right on it.

Bet it wouldn't have happened if Bud Selig still owned the team...

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Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Ron Cey and the Fat Moose...

Today's Slate has a piece on baseball cards, and how the bottom has dropped out of what was once one of the few investments that never lost money. Of course, the reason for the former was that too many people figured out the latter at about the same time, with predictable results. The demand for cards, especially the highly sought after "rookie" cards, i.e., the first card upon which a particular player had appeared, went through the roof. Card shops and card shows proliferated, and the manufacturers started producing more card sets to meet the demand, each more special than the rest. When I was a kid, there was just one manufacturer, and one set, Topps, which we bought a pack at a time. Ten cards a stick of rock-hard gum for a nickel. Even into the mid-eighties, there were still only three competing sets, Topps, Fleer, and Donruss.

It was about then that I briefly began collecting again. I'd had a lot of cards when I was a kid, some of which would be worth small fortunes today. I had multiples of Mantle, and Koufax, and Mays, and Aaron. And Ray Sadecki, but I clipped those to my bicycle as noisemakers. Typically for most of us who did collect when we were kids, my mother threw them out when we moved across town. (I remind her of this from time to time. She also reminds me that she also threw out my sisters' vintage Barbies, which she regretted muchly when she began collecting dolls later on. Then my father reminds me that I swiped the baseball he had stashed in the attic, and used it for neighborhood games until it was destroyed. You know, the one that had Babe Ruth's autograph on it. Oops.) Over the years I'd pick up a couple of packs here and there, so I never completely abandoned the hobby. Actually, I wound up with an awful lot of cards from 1979 for some reason. Anyway, my landlord dragged me off to a card show in '87. He was in it for the investment. I went because I liked the cards.

It was fun. Mike was looking to invest. I was looking for mementos. I picked up some cards of favorite Dodgers, a few old cards, and tried to fill in some of the gaps in the '79 set I'd inadvertently started. After that I went to a few more shows, stopped in at a few shops, and kept plugging away on the Dodgers and '79. The most expensive single card I ever bought was Ron Cey's rookie card, at $30 or so. (It wasn't that expensive because Cey was on it. It was expensive because it was also Mike Schmidt's rookie card. Schmidt turned out to be the greatest third baseman ever.) Eventually I even bought a few complete sets to put aside for my retirement, one each of the big three, along with the new kid on the block, Upper Deck.

This was right on the cusp of the proliferation of manufacturers and sets. Upper Deck was a "premium" card, with better production values than their competitors. Soon, Topps, et al., started issuing premium sets, and things escalated. More manufacturers, more sets, and not much difference among any of them. I gave up. Everything became about greed, and it wasn't any fun. I knew it was only a matter of time before the Franklin Mint got involved in cards. The Slate piece mentions that there were ninety different sets in 2004, and forty this year. The hucksters ruined it for everyone.

I still have the sets I bought back then. I really ought to put them up on eBay. The '79 set remains unfinished, and valuable only to me. I still have my Cey rookie card. One of these days I need to figure out the best way to display some of them.

I had one good laugh in the Slate piece. He used to buy cards from Fat Moose. I used to shop in Fat Moose's store, too (though at the time it was more for comics and wargames than cards). I mean, how many Fat Mooses could there be?

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Harold Reynolds was fired yesterday from ESPN's Baseball Tonight, and since no one at ESPN is commenting, speculation was rampant over at the Griddle. There is some very funny stuff over there. As for the actual reason he got fired, there are rumors that it was either for sexual harrassment, or because he had a melt down in a meeting about the network's coverage of A-Rod's recent problems. I'm thinking it would have to be one hell of a meltdown for it to have been the latter, but if it was the former, why would ESPN then give Reynolds's spot on BBTN to Steve Phillips, who was fired as GM of the Mets for sexual harrassment?

[eta] And Reynolds has confirmed that it was for sexual harrassment, although he claims his inappropriate hug was misinterpreted. Could be. When you see things on TV like the President of the United States giving uninvited neck rubs to the Chancellor of Germany, it's entirely possible Reynolds thought his actions were appropriate. Sure it is...

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Speaking of Phillips, he has been vociferously calling for the Yanks to trade A-Rod, and folks are questioning if he might not be all together unbiased on the subject. Truth be told, Phillips was a terrible GM, and any criticism he has for other GMs has to be taken with a colossal grain of salt. Hey, I'd take A-Rod in a New York second, but Brian Cashman isn't that stupid.

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Monday, July 10, 2006

Home Run Derby...

So, I went riding again tonight. I was able to do almost fourteen miles. Was very stiff when I started. After a couple of minutes I loosened up a little, but never got terribly comfortable. My legs were so dead when I finished that I had a hard time getting off the bike. Also, the new saddle isn't quite broken in yet, so my butt hurts. Que sera. Still glad I forced myself to do it, because I do need to get back into a regular routine. Tomorrow is supposed to be thunderstormy, so I can recuperate for Wednesday.

Now I'm having a beer, mocking the Home Run Derby over at the Griddle, and otherwise communing with my inner turnip, serene in the knowledge that at least they don't determine the winner of the World Series with one of these things.

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Bill Mazeroski threw out the first pitch of the HRD, and still looks good. His home run to win the '60 Series is my earliest memory of baseball. I still wonder sometimes how I wound up a fan of the Dodgers and not the Pirates.

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David Wright has a potty mouth. He also made a brilliant choice in having Paul Lo Duca (a catcher) pitch to him. Paulie lobbed in pitches like he was throwing it underhanded, and Wright just crushed 'em.

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All you need to know about international soccer is that the best player in the world managed to get himself ejected from the World Cup championship game for head butting an opponent. His team went on to lose, in part because he wasn't there to take a penalty shot (what a stupid way to run a railroad). Afterwards, he was voted MVP. Imbécile.

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Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Weirdness...

It's been a weird couple of days in Dodger land. Monday, Nomar was plunked three times in one game, tying a major league record. Interestingly enough, it's the third time this particular record has been tied this year. Toronto's Reed Johnson has already managed to do it two times this year. Johnson's been plunked thrice twice!

And on top of everything else, just when many of us thought the Dodgers' pitching situation couldn't possibly get any worse, who trots into tonight's game but Giovanni Carrara, who I last saw pitching for the Pirates' AAA team against the PawSox back in April. He'd come into a 0-0 tie in the tenth inning, loaded the bases, and then gave up the game winning sacrifice fly. I mean, the Pirates are by far the worst team in the National League, and they decided that he wasn't good enough to pitch for their minor league team, so they released him. I have no idea why Neddy signed him. He's already given up a run in his first inning of work. Fortunately, LA still has an eight run lead. ::Crosses fingers...::

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Friday, June 30, 2006

Other Stuff You Can't Make Up...

Eddie Griffin, who briefly played basketball for my alma mater and now plays for the Minnesota Timberwolves, has been sued over an accident in which the SUV he was driving slammed into a parked SUV, driving it up onto the sidewalk. Apparently, not only was Griffin driving drunk, but he was also driving whilst watching porn on a dashboard mounted DVD player and masturbating. Also, he doesn't have a drivers license. No mention of whether or not he was also talking on his cell, but it seems likely that the masturbation probably wasn't hands-free.

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Jeff Weaver was designated for assignment by the Angels today, another in a recent string of high-profile, high-salary, underperforming pitchers who have been unceremoniously dumped in the last couple of weeks despite still being owed millions (see also Russ Ortiz and Jason Johnson). What makes Weaver dumping especially ironic is that his replacement in the Angel rotation will be his little brother, Jered. Ouch. That's gotta sting.

If the price is right (i.e., dirt cheap), I wouldn't mind seeing the Dodgers try to get Jeff. He's not great, but he was adequate for us the last couple of years. It will also be interesting to see if the Dodgers decide to add to the string of DFAs by dumping Odalis Perez.

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Wednesday, June 28, 2006

You Can't Make This Stuff Up...

Headline at milwaukee.brewers.mlb.com:


Wise Hurt by Salad Tongs


I got it from the Griddle, where there is some, er, commentary.

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Getting Some Help for the Low Post...

So, Ned Colletti went shopping yesterday, and got the Dodgers... a power forward?

Jae Seo, Dioner Navarro, and a player to be named later were sent to Tampa Bay for Toby Hall and Mark Hendrickson, who played four years in the NBA before deciding to change careers. Not exactly an earth-shattering deal, although to listen to some of the hue and cry over at DT, you'd think that Neddy had gunned down a line of baby ducks with an AK-47.

It's a simple enough deal. Ned wanted Hendrickson, a lefty starter in the middle of his best year (although that's not really saying much), and Tampa has been lusting after Navarro for a while. Seo, a pitcher who's been maddeningly inconsistent in his brief time with LA, and Hall, a catcher, are the throw-ins to balance things off. The thing that has a number of folks incensed is the inclusion of Navarro in the deal. Navarro is young, moderately talented, and inexpensive. He is also, perhaps, the shining symbol of the DePo era, in that he was acquired by jettisoning fading star Shawn Green, and Green's enormous contract as part of DePo's housecleaning. What. Ever.

Don't get me wrong. I think Navarro is a decent player. He is not the second coming of Mike Piazza. The emergence of Russell Martin made him expendable. Martin is as good or better as a hitter, is better defensively, and apparently calls a better game than Dioner. Navarro wasn't going to be the starter for the Dodgers again unless Martin got hurt. He had value, and we didn't need him. It really doesn't matter whether Navarro was one of our treasured prospects or not. He was a treasured prospect who was projected to be our back-up catcher of the future (and really, I'd prefer a back-up catcher who's a little better defensively).

Do I think Ned got equal value? Nope. The problem Colletti had is that the Dodgers needed a pitcher who can go seven innings (something in really short supply in Dodger Stadium of late) more than they need an expendable catcher, no matter how talented or cheap, and in the current baseball marketplace, mediocre pitchers are more valuable than young, moderately talented catchers. People keep spinning the trade as if it's Navarro straight up for Hall, and viewed that way, it's a terrible deal for LA. But it's not that. It was Navarro for Hendrickson, with Seo and Hall as the throw-ins. Is that a good deal? Maybe, maybe not. It depends upon what other teams were offering for Navarro, if anything. Only Ned knows that. It's also going to depend upon how well Hendrickson pitches. It's certainly not worth the apoplexy some of the DT posters are displaying.

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From the Griddle comes this link to an article by Coulter wannabe, Lisa Fabrizio, at The American Spectator on the liberal infiltration of baseball.

So Bud Lite is fine with the gansta [sic] rap behavior exhibited daily by many ballplayers and celebrated gleefully by ESPN.

Gangsta rap? From all them white boys? Or is it all the Latino and Asian players of whom she speaks? One of the dismaying things about the current state of baseball is how few African-Americans are actually playing. The Dodgers have only two on their roster, Lofton and Kemp, as do the Yankees, the Sox, and the Mets. Still, I suppose in Ms. Fabrizio's teeny little mind, two blacks are two too many. There is far more wrong-headedness that I could comment on, but it's just not worth the aggravation. What an ignorant bunt.

Well, there is one thing...
While it's always been true that most baseball men have been known to wrap their tongues around an obscenity or two, it's most likely that these words were used off-the-record as modifiers and not central to a highly public press conference.

Someone needs to play Tommy Lasorda's opinion of Dave Kingman for Ms. Fabrizio.

Continue reading...

Monday, June 12, 2006

Sunday in the Ballpark with J...

Took a ride up to Pawtucket yesterday to watch the PawSox play Richmond with my friend, J. It was the first real nice day we've had in a while, although the breeze made it a little chilly where we were sitting in the shade. It seems like a lot of people were downright eager to get out into the sunlight, because when I got there about an hour early, the main parking lot was already full up. I had to park at the junior high across the street.

J. got caught in traffic and missed most of the first inning, so I was sitting in the midst of a small group of empty seats, scoring the game when the woman sitting a couple of seats down the row asked "Are you a scout?" Now, the color guard had been a group of Boy Scouts and adult leaders, so all I could think of was that she had somehow confused my tan shirt with a scout leader's uniform, so I gave her a puzzled look, and said "no." She then said, "Oh, you're just scoring the game for fun?" and I finally got it. She'd thought I was a major league scout. Oh, the rumors I could've started.

Where's Choi?
I'd hoped to see ex-Dodger Hee-Seop Choi play. He's been stuck down in Pawtucket ever since the Red Sox pulled him out of Ned Colletti's trash can. He's been such a cause celebre over at Dodger Thoughts that I was looking forward to seeing him hit up close and in person. Unfortunately for my hopes, Richmond started a lefty, so the PawSox manager decided to go with right-handed Dustin Mohr instead of left-handed hitting Hee-Seop. The move didn't make much sense to me because Mohr was batting a robust .164. Choi could hardly have done worse than that. Still, the scoreboard reported that Mohr had walked nine times in his last six games, and he responded to the manager's vote of confidence by going 1-4. Hee-Seop finally did put in an appearance when he popped out of the dugout with the rest of the team at the end of the game to celebrate a PawSox victory.

I did get to see a lot of Canadian National Hero Adam Stern, who's only hitting .234, but is "wicked fast," as the lady down the row opined the first time he batted. He does run very well. He beat out a bunt for a hit and stole two bases. Apparently nobody's ever told him that speed is the last thing the Red Sox look for when they bring someone up.

Afterwards, J. went home to plant tomatoes and stick sharp objects in her eye, while I picked up some Popeyes to go for my dinner.

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I got back home in time to witness a ninth inning rally by the Dodgers to beat Colorado. Rookie sensation Matt Kemp had two homers. Meanwhile, the Mets were beating the Diamondbacks like a rented python, 15-2. The upshot of this is that the Dodgers are finally alone in first place. Whoot!

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Who's on first... and second... and short...
Lots of speculation after the game on the roster moves coming up this week. There are two rosters that have to be considered. There is the 25-man major league roster, the current list of players on the major league club, and the 40 man-roster, which is the list of players with major league contracts who are eligible for the 25-man roster. Besides the 25 guys on the big club, the 40-man includes players on the 15-day disabled list (DL), and a few select minor leaguers. It does not include the rest of minor leaguers, nor any players on the 60-day DL.

Anyway, Jeff Kent comes off the 15-day DL tomorrow, which means Gagne will probably go back on it. Izturis is due back from the DL as well, but since he's been on the 60-day, it would necessitate not only sending someone down (probably Guzman), but also taking someone off the 40-man roster to open up a slot for him. That likely means Ricky Ledee will wind up moving from the 15-day to the 60-day DL (and off the 40-man). It's also being reported that heralded pitcher Chad Billingsly will likely be called up from Vegas, and he'll also need to be put on the 40-man, probably sending either Repko or Mueller to the 60-day. The only good thing about all the injuries is that if all these guys weren't hurt, the Dodgers would have a helluva a logjam of players to deal with. Meanwhile, the big question is which pitcher gets sent down/traded/released to open up a spot for Bills on the 25-man roster. You can almost hear the paper shuffling from here.

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The other thing of note from yesterday's major league games were three very bizarre plays.

The Player Vanishes...
The least bizarre had erstwhile Sox, now Royals, first baseman Doug Mientkiewicz catching a foul pop-up just as he ran into a rolled up tarp alongside the field in Kansas City. Normally they keep the tarps pushed right against the fence, but not this time. He fell over the thing, and vanished into an 18" gap between the tarp and the fence. The ump came over to have a look, and all you saw was a hand slowly come into sight gripping the ball to show he'd held on.

Yankee shocker! Damon runs into another player...
Next up was Nick Swisher's inside-the-park home run in Yankee Stadium, the result of a collision in the outfield between Johnny Damon and Melky Cabrera. They slammed into each other hard, with Damon taking Cabrera's mitt full in the face. Meanwhile the ball was rolling around the outfield as Swisher chugged around the bases.

Triple play...
Finally, there was the most bizarre triple play I've ever seen outside of a rec league, for which I'll just repost Bob Timmermann's account:

Lost amidst the excitement that any Tampa Bay-Kansas City game was the experience of watching the Royals turn an 8-1-6-5 triple play in the second inning.

David DeJesus caught a fly ball off the bat of Russell Branyan and threw home to try to get Aubrey Huff. The throw went over catcher Paul Bako and was backed up pitcher Scott Elarton, who threw to second, where shortstop Angel Berroa tagged out Rocco Baldelli trying to advance. Berroa then threw to third baseman Mark Teahen to appeal that Huff left early and umpire Bob Davidson, the man who loves to call people out on appeal plays (see Japan vs. USA in the World Baseball Classic), called out Huff for the triple play.

It was the sixth triple play in Royals franchise history, and the first triple play Tampa Bay has ever hit into.

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I have to mention here that I once played in a softball game in which my team turned not one, but two triple plays. I was involved in both, which were more conventional in nature (line drives caught with the runners going) than the play yesterday. It was the only time I ever played in a game where there was a triple play. Despite our fielding legerdemain, we lost the game 22-21 in extra innings.

Continue reading...

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Less Tightly Wound...

It's the most important piece of equipment in the game. After all if it wasn't, they wouldn't have named the game after it. Anyone who's ever played softball understands this, because there are softballs, and there are soft balls.

Now, when we were kids, we were big fans of rubber-coated baseballs. These were identical in construction to real baseballs, except that the leather cover and stitches were replaced by a tough rubber skin with the stitch pattern molded in. The reason we liked them was that they lasted forever (just ask commercial batting cages), especially when you took into account the little brook that meandered alongside our local baseball field, just a few feet behind the batting cage. We were constantly fishing the ball out of the brook. Real baseballs don't travel as far after they get waterlogged, nor do they last very long. Since none of us had much in the way of discretionary income back then, rubber-coated balls were the best thing ever, because they lasted a long time. Later, when I was in high school and still labored under the vague delusion that I could actually be good enough to make the team someday, those rubber-coated balls were great for pitching against the cinder-block outside wall of our garage, upon which I'd drawn the outline of a strike-zone. The rough surface tore the skin off horsehide balls pretty quickly, but the rubber-coated balls just bounced back to me with barely a scuff mark. Later, when we were in grad school, my buddy Tom and I drew the same mystic symbol on the brick wall behind the recreation center at URI. Our dreams of major league glory were long gone by then, but it was still fun to pretend.

That was the same year I started playing softball in the grad intramural league at URI, and the rec department provided each team with two rubber-coated softballs. These were supposed to last us for the entire season, some twenty-four games. At the time, it seemed like an okay idea to me. Well, no. The rec balls turned out to be the most cheaply made balls ever. They were heavy, and a couple of innings of hitting was all that was needed to change their shapes to something non-spherical, a phenomenon exacerbated by the very stretchable rubber skin. We threw them out, and got real balls as soon as we could.

The thing is, even cheap baseballs are fairly consistent in their hardness. Maybe it's because hardballs are designed to be wound as tightly as possible to produce that characteristic hardness. Softballs are different. They are meant to be less hard than baseballs, but things get tricky on the question of how much less hard.

First off, a softball isn't all that much softer than a hardball. Even the softest will still leave a nasty bruise if a line drive hits you. But there are differences in construction that allow the balls to be marketed for different uses and levels of competition. The predominant brand, Worth, marked their balls with a colored dot to indicate how the ball was constructed. Blue dots meant "restricted flight," a ball that didn't rebound off the bat quite as hard as the "unrestricted" red dots. Most of the town leagues used blue dots to even things out a little for the non-hulking among us, while in less organized leagues (like the URI rec league), the better teams snuck in red dots to use on wide open fields (heh). The women got to use green dots, smaller and more tightly wound than a standard softball. I used to occasionally take a few swings in batting practice with a women's team I coached, just so I could tee off on those. In the nineties, when bat technology developed (and balls started being wound even more tightly) so that 150 lb shortstops could suddenly hit blue dots 300' in the air, "extra restricted" gold dots started being used in some leagues. They reminded me a lot of those old rubber eggs URI gave us.

But baseballs are supposed to be consistent, especially the higher up the ladder of competition you go. Or at least they used to be. The Colorado Rockies play in Coors Field, a stadium that is a mile above sea level. It's a bigger than average park, but the thin air at that altitude has made the place a veritable launching pad. While Colorado's hitters have benefitted greatly from playing there, their pitchers have generally turned into quivering masses of jelly just biding their time until they can declare free agency and get the hell out of Dodge Denver. Good pitchers can be reduced to tears after just a few outings at Coors. Many will attest that one of the greatest pitching feats of all time was the no-hitter Hideo Nomo threw there some years ago as a member of the Dodgers.

Recently, however, the offensive levels of Coors Field have been dialed back to about league average. How? Did they move the fences back? Nope. The Rockies are storing their official National League baseballs in a humidor. Humidifying the balls is a much subtler version of fishing the balls out of the brook. Humidified balls don't rebound off the bat as well as a dry ball. In effect, the Rockies are using restricted flight baseballs. Pitchers across the league are rejoicing, and it's helped get the Rocks off to their best start in yonks because their young pitchers aren't getting lit up all the time, which helps keep the shellshock cases down...

Of course, it helps opposing pitchers, too, as it did last night when Brad Penny threw the best game by a Dodger starter this year to shut the Rocks out, 3-0. This allowed the Dodgers to crawl into a first place tie with the DBacks, the first time they've been there in more than a year. Penny's had some rough, not to mention short, outings of late, but last night he was brilliant, going 8 1/3, the first Dodger starter to make it into the ninth this year.

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The Rockies made a trade before the game, picking up #2 WFAN anathema Kaz Matsui from the Mets for Eli Marrero. Matsui has been awful for the Mets since coming over from Japan, and I have no idea why the Rockies would want him. Well, unless the management, who are very concerned about player character, got confused about the difference between a player of good character, and a player who IS a character.

Continue reading...

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Foul Ball

I finished Bouton's Foul Ball : My Life and Hard Times Trying to Save an Old Ballpark, and really enjoyed it. It's not really a baseball book, but rather a book about small town politics. There is an ancient ballpark in Pittsfield, MA, called Wahconah Park. It was built in the 1919. In 2001, the tennant, an Astros A team, announced they were moving to a brand new park in another town. The PTB in Pittsfield (i.e., the mayor, the bank, the daily newspaper, and General Electric, the town's biggest employer) put forward a proposal to build a new stadium to attract another team. The new stadium would be built at taxpayers' expense on land then owned by the newspaper, so all the PTB folks stood to gain financially. Meanwhile, the old park would be demolished. The townsfolk mounted a grassroots campaign in opposition, and managed to defeat the proposal when it came up on a referendum.

At this point, Bouton and his partners stepped in with a proposal of their own to renovate Wahconah Park with their own funds, in exchange for a long term lease which they would use to operate an independent league team. (The independent leagues consist of minor league teams that aren't affiliated with any major league team. Since they aren't part of a farm system, the teams tend to have more experienced players, including some ex-major leaguers, thus leading some to argue that the brand of baseball is better than you'd normally get in the low minors.) The proposal falls upon the deaf ears of the PTB, who are still trying to figure out how to ram through the new stadium. The book is the journal Bouton kept of their campaign.

It's a tough go. The main opponents are the mayor, a lame duck who relishes his power, and the newspaper, which because of its massive conflict of interest is almost totally against them, misreporting the story to its own advantage. And behind them both is the shadow of one of the world's largest corporations, GE, which over the years had dumped PCBs on nearly every vacant piece of land in Pittsfield. There are rumors that the newspaper's land is similarly contaminated, and the reason everyone is so hot for the stadium is that it's a structure that can be built without having to dig a very deep foundation, because god knows what they might find. Meanwhile, a couple of independent league teams, smelling new stadium, make their own proposals, bringing league politics into the mix, as well.

Most folks would take the hint and just walk away, but Bouton and his friend, Chip, are outraged. It becomes a crusade against tyranny for them, somewhat to dismay of their wives.

Tonight in the car, on the way to dinner, Paula and I talked about the "crusade."
"Chip and I are those rare individuals who could pull off something like this," I said. "Who else could do such a thing?"
"Single people, mostly," said Paula.

It's a book that resonates with me quite a bit, because of how disfunctional the local government around here has become. In my town, the school committee has started paying for police (at taxpayer expense, natch) to attend their meetings to keep order among the board members. The next town over has similar problems in their town council. There is a meanness and a pettiness that just has to be seen to be believed lately.

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Friday, February 17, 2006

I See the Boys of Summer in Their Ruin...

"The book also says you came to bat 620 times and that was the only home run."
"Yep. You got a secret weapon like that, you don't want to go showing it around."
-- Roger Kahn and Preacher Roe

I finished a long overdue reread of The Boys of Summer, Roger Kahn's classic memoir about the men who played for the Brooklyn Dodgers in the early fifties. The Dodgers were the best team in the National League for most of the late forties and early fifties, in large part because they were the first team to integrate, but they also seemed star-crossed. Branch Rickey, who had assembled the team, once said that luck is the residue of design, but that didn't seem to be working out for the Bums. They blew big leads down the stretch in 1950 and 51 to the Whiz Kid Phillies, and Bobby Thomson's Giants, respectively, and in the years they did win the pennant, they always wound up losing to the Yankees in the World Series. It became part of their charm. As Kahn notes, "You may glory in a team triumphant, but you fall in love with a team in defeat." The rallying cry of Brooklyn fans became "Wait til next year."

Intellect isn't much in this game. They say Einstein wasn't much of a hitter
-- Fresco Thompson

In the first half of the book, Kahn talks about growing up in Brooklyn, and how he came to be sitting next to Fresco Thompson on a DC-3 to Miami in March of 1952, enroute to taking over the job of Dodgers beat writer for the Herald Tribune. (The book is also a bit of a memoir about the Trib, which had gone out of business not long before Kahn started working on the book.) Kahn covered the team for two seasons, and it was a great team to cover. Both years the Dodgers went to the Series, and lost to the Yanks. There were four future Hall of Famers, Jackie Robinson, Pee Wee Reese, Duke Snider, and Roy Campanella, and Gil Hodges (and maybe even Dick Williams, as a manager) may yet get in. The team was also a living, breathing social experiment, and Kahn records the tensions that resulted from that. There was a dichotomy in the way the black players were perceived. Jackie and Campy are respected as fellow players and men by the white players, but when Jim Gilliam is brought up in '53, Billy Cox is irate over the possibility that he's going to lose his job to a black.

The second half of the book comes fifteen or sixteen years later, when Kahn goes to visit many of the players he knew. He talks about the fact that athletes suffer two deaths, the first being the end of their careers as athletes, and he wanted to see how his old friends had managed that. He finds them doing all the things that one might expect ex-ball players to be doing in an era before they were paid millions of dollars to play. Cox is a bartender. Carl Furillo is a laborer installing elevators in the then under construction World Trade Center towers. Preacher Roe is a grocer. Joe Black and Robinson are business executives. (One thing that I find interesting is that Black and Robinson, both black, were probably the most well educated men on the team.) Campanella, a quadraplegic since the auto accident that ended his career, owns a liquor store. Only Hodges is still in baseball, as the manager of the Mets. Most seem comfortable with their lives, and only a couple seem to miss baseball much. Campy is upbeat, despite his injuries, while Furillo, the Reading Rifle, is the bitterest man alive, having been unjustly jettisoned by the team. Snider comes off very much as the prototype for today's totally self-absorbed player, which is a shame. He was one of my early heroes. Robinson, of course, is the central figure, but in one of the great ironies of all time, the other man who towered over that clubhouse was named "PeeWee." Reese was the captain, the man from Kentucky who openly accepted Robinson on the team. Their concerns are those of middle aged men, i.e., their jobs and their families. One of the threads that runs through the book is the relationship between fathers and sons, Kahn's with his own father, and some of the ex-Dodgers with their sons. There is also a thread of impending tragedy, especially in the chapters on Hodges and Robinson. Both talk about the heart attacks they'd suffered, and the reader knows that both would be dead within a year of the book being published.

It's an odd thing to be reading this book now that I'm older than Kahn and the players were when this was written. The first time I read this book, I was still in my twenties, and that colored my impressions a lot. Back then I had trouble wrapping my brain around the fact that Preacher Roe only sounded uneducated, or that Charlie Dressen, the gruff and uneducated manager of the team, could show moments of great kindness. Now, knowing the kind of money that players make today, it's kind of quaint to read the stories about the players carpooling in from Bayside to Ebbetts Field.

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