Heroes Get Remembered; But Legends Never Die

Anyone that has ever talked to me or read this blog will inevitably take away two observations. One, “This kid really has a thing for baseball.” Two, “Baseball really can be a parallel to real life.” The first is a given. I have attempted to convey the second in every forum from this, to research papers and even in speech classes. So here is another shot.

For me, memories and the order they take in my mind are often shaped solely by the circumstances of an instant. An otherwise bright sunny day can be instantly tarnished when the other guy backs his car into you. By the same token a dreary, rainy, good for nothing day can go down as the best ever if spent with someone you love. Baseball memories and moments are also defined by those same circumstances of an instant. The situation of a single game or a single moment may define a memory, or even make it legendary, despite meaning very little in even the grander scheme of the season.

Courtesy of Baseball-Almanac

To illustrate this I take you back to July 5, 1996. The San Diego Padres, for the first time in one young fan’s life are making a push for the post-season. However, it’s still a long way to October so the games don’t have the must win status they would gain. Still, on this day the Padres were locked in a tight extra inning scuffle with the division rival Giants. With a man on second and two down in the bottom of the 11th, up stepped a journeyman named Brain Johnson. He was typical of this Padres team, made up of mainly unheralded talent and a few stars, just contending out in the wide open west. But this day would imprint Johnson in the mind of that young fan, not just as the hero of the game or week, but as a legend.

All of a sudden, Johnson swings and connects; it’s a roller to the left side of the infield, deep enough in a hole to make it close at first. The runner from second, who happened to be Rickey Henderson, possibly the fastest ball player ever, broke(cleat) on contact, and no doubt would score. But in order to secure the run and win, Johnson would have to be safe at first. As the ball headed toward the first baseman’s glove Johnson dove headlong towards the first base bag, just in time to beat the throw. Padres win.

Now in subsequent years the young fan would speak ill of the cardinal sin of diving head first…anywhere. However, in that instant, a move of sheer determination had won the game and nothing could be more heavenly.

As years passed that fan would more readily point to that play than any other, not only in that exciting season, but as a most memorable play ever. The Padres finished off their first division championship in 12 years with a three game sweep of the hated Dodgers, on the last weekend of the season. And yet Johnson’s play, in early July, remains as a legend that will continue on in the mind of that young fan.

While the Reggie Jackson’s and Babe Ruth’s cemented places as heroes and legends with feats on the grandest stages, names like Jim Ray Hart and John Vander Wal may be held, not on an even scale of better or best, but in a different legendary realm for reasons known only to each fan. It all depends on their personal circumstance…that one instant. Whatever the reason, the player…the moment…will never die.

-Author’s Note: Yes, I did just finish watching the Sandlot before I wrote this.

Thank’s for the Memories. Can I Get You a Cab?

There is occasionally an eerie bond between longtime members of certain teams and the fans of those franchises. I think in today’s free agent market, the scarcity of these “lifers” or even long timers, is so rare that fans latch on to players like never before. Then the aforementioned free agency rears its head and the debates begin. What do fans owe these players? What do the players owe the fans and the franchise? Over and over again a team may be backed into a corner and over pay for sentiment. But just in the same way, a player may leave a city they have built a life and career in, because there is not proper compensation.

His jersey hangs on my wall and Hells Bells means just one thing to me, but would Trevor Hoffman really mean much for the 2009 Padres?

Baseball is a business, the player owes the team and the fans the services they are paying him for. For the length of his contract that player should do all they can to get out there on the field every game and play to win. After the contract is up, they are a free agent. Which means just that, free. If they feel they need to stick to the city fine, if not, they don’t really owe the fans any more than they have, or should have, already given.

All of that being said players could do fans a favor and not try to hold up that home town organization. Don’t come in thinking, “Well I am the face of this franchise, the fans love me, the organization wouldn’t dare not sign me, so I can get a huge contract even though I’m on the way out the door.” Please, just don’t. If you can go get a bigger deal someplace else, do it. If you can’t and there is a decent deal from the home town team, don’t drive it up with rumors of heading somewhere else (like a certain well storied baseball city on a swamp) just to get more money from home. That is not the way to go. It may seem to an average fan that the front office is the bad guy, but that’s not always the case.

A note also to the fans, try to cut through the clutter of sentiment that dominates too many franchises these days. Not history and tradition, those are great if you’ve got it, but nothing good can come of signing a guy solely on what his zip code was growing up, if his brother is on the team, or how long he has been with the club. If you want to follow a player, fine. But if you want to be a fan, know what’s good for the team and when to let go.

So good luck to free agents and clubs as the bidding begins on Friday. And best wishes to fans everywhere for decent signings that give your team (or player if that’s how you roll) what they need. 

Run Up the Colors Mr. Russell

Perhaps this means nothing. Perhaps it means something. To me it means quite a bit. My organizational award recognizing class from top to bottom goes to the Pittsburgh Pirates.

 

As anyone who knows me is aware, I am teetering on the first awkward step of a career in sports play-by-play broadcasting. While there are many in this position and the paths often differ…the common thread is the constant making and mailing of job application packages. Personally I’ve taken the “Never up, never in” approach. If you don’t putt the ball towards the hole…you won’t get a birdie. If you don’t try the running put back…you don’t get the bucket. Most importantly if you don’t apply for the job…you won’t get it.

 

It’s that thinking that led me to send off a shot in the dark for the vacant spot in the Pirates broadcast booth. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t kid myself into thinking I am nearly the qualified candidate they are looking for, but still, it never hurts. So weeks went by and I didn’t hear anything. But then the mailman brought an official Pirates envelope. I knew what the letter inside would read, but still ripped it open with Christmas morn intensity. Indeed while they listened to my tape and will keep it on file…the organization could not offer me the job at this time. Nevertheless, in that simple letter, the standing of the Pittsburgh club jumped up in my esteem.

 

Any company, sports based or not, that clearly takes the time to treat a brash, no business clogging their mail room, running up their auditory time, generation y, entitled youngster, that way is a class organization. In appreciation of their actions, not only does the letter reside on my fridge, just below the clipping of Andrew Walter, the savior of the Oakland Raiders starting tomorrow, but I also will be giving Pittsburgh a goodwill blessing for the 2009 season.

 

While a blessing from me may not mean much, know this. I have witnesses to the fact that the same type of good feeling was bestowed upon a certain young team from the Tampa Bay area before last season. By no means am I saying I told everyone so, but if my following of the Rays like a kid playing with the stray puppy had any impact, the Pittsburgh Pirates will be afforded that same courtesy in ’09.

 

So to Buco’s manager John Russell I say, the deck is yours.

That Should Never Happen

Apologies are in order. To anyone who may be reading this, to Seamheads everywhere, and most importantly to baseball, I am sorry. I haven’t really given too much thought to the grand game over the last week. It just has been so chock full o’ action that baseball got lost. But seriously, a national election? A new president? Those things should never take away from giving baseball, even in the off season, its proper due. And it shant happen again.

Of course to the untrained eye, nothing has happened in baseball that is too worth commenting on. Lucky for you, I consider my eye well trained.

In the first move of the Hot Stove season two seemingly unlikely teams got together to swap young talent. The Florida Marlins sent infielder Mike Jacobs to the Kansas City Royals for right hander Leo Nunez. Its easy to discount the Royals each year, but adding a young bat in Jacobs, who mashed 32 home runs last season, is just another quiet piece of the puzzle in KC that could create a competitor.(See Second Division Refresher.)

The rest of the major action seems to be wars between teams and agents and rumors of wars between agents and teams. Each day this week another list of MLBers opted for free agency to see what their own team thought they were worth and where they could set the market.

For position players the top end of the market will undoubtedly be set by Manny Ramierez. No one seems to doubt that Manny will get what he wants from a money standpoint. The hang up for the clubs in the running seems to be how long they want to tie Manny down. Personally the huge contract is something that I am always wary of. There are too many instances of these just not working out. Adrian Beltre meet Barry Zito and his buddy Darren Driefort. On the flip side, you don’t have to worry about Manny’s talent in the now…so if a team has the cash and can win with that extra piece…why not?

On the hill a lot will be determined by C.C. Sabathia. While he won’t claim the money reported heading ManRam’s way he seems to be the cream of the pitching crop. Although there are some other very viable options in guys like Derek Lowe testing the market. He will draw money in his own right, but some smaller market teams may take a shot, and get lucky, on some injury plagued arms that may be worth a cheap shot to bounce back. Jason Schmidt meet Mark Prior.

The General Manager’s meetings came to an end today, but really that’s the starting gun. Whether or not we will see any blockbuster deals or shocking signs remains to be seen. One thing is sure, I won’t let the rest of life get in the way of keeping track of everything.

Remember, remember, even in November, the trades and the stove so hot. I can think of no reason, even the off-season, why baseball should ever…be…forgot. (Special inspirational thanks to the memory of Guy Fawkes.)

Thanks a lot H. Allen

 

Judge Kennesaw Mountain Landis set the bar for future commisioners high.

 

Well that, I must say, was fairly anti-climactic. I’m sure for a Rays fan losing the World Series hurt just as much, and for Philly fan, well, they probably still haven’t calmed down enough to realize it was only three and a half innings of baseball tonight.

Even for me, living for every single inning, every single pitch, every single day, it was a weird feeling. It took an extra five minutes to sink in that the eye blink of three and a half innings were the last of their kind for another four months. We owe all of the let down to a man who would be better off finding his own group of chromatically inclined highland dwelling youths to attack Fort Ticonderoga like E. Allen did, than putting H. Allen “Bud” Selig on the door of the commissioner’s office.

“Bud” has been wheeling and dealing from baseball headquarters for the bulk of my life. While MLB.com lists the seemingly endless myriad of accomplishments in his tenure its hard for me to separate much of that from the man who stumbles all over himself in front of press conferences announcing things like, and I’m loosly paraphrasing here…If Benito Santigo doesn’t hit a solo home run, this All-Star game will be a tie. Or, Baseball officials had no idea steroid use was so rampant. And of course the latest, Forecasts all said conditions would be good to play, so we started, but now game 5 will be suspended due to adverse conditions.

Thanks Bud.

Of course H. Allen’s party on “CommisionAir 1″ is probably as raucous as the one under William Penn’s statue or outside Independence Hall. Because had this series gone the Rays way, he may have been strung on a rope dangling from Penn’s little finger, Quaker or no. His move took the Ace from the deck for the Phillies. A guy who hadn’t lost a game since September was on the hill to close things out. If he had been sacrificed to the weather and another one of Bud’s blunders, it would have been rough. As it happened, it was just a strange, weird little game. Sadly the last of 2008.

Even sadder, it probably won’t be the last under the reign of Bud. He now sits as the third longest serving commissioner. As you notice from the list to the left, only Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis and Bowie Kuhn served longer terms. Landis held onto the job like the pope, until he died in 1944. To borrow and extrapolate a phrase, “I knew Ken Landis, and you sir[Bud] are no Ken Landis.” Even after he spent 23 years defining the office with policies some called iron fisted, Landis had been voted yet another term just before he died.  The commissioner of our fathers, Bowie Kuhn, stuffy Ivy League manner or not, really was a directing force during monumental shifts in the game throughout his 15 years. But even Bowie was eventually, politely, walked to the door.

So despite the fact that for ten years Mr. H. Allen Selig has “presided over” some things that have really been great for the game, I think part of every baseball fan just wishes he would go back to Milwaukee, keep being a great humanitarian, and maybe even buy back a piece of the Brew Crew. If he doesn’t, we’ll all just sit around wondering when the next pin prick to the heart of baseball will come.

Ice Water vs. Staight Heat(For everything)

So its a showdown tonight. Texas Gun Slinging Bringin Straight Heat Scotty Kazmir taking on So Cal Ice Water Veined Wicked Stuff Cole Hamels in game 5. A marquee match-up, late in the fall, doesn’t get much better than that. 

Game 4 ended less than 24 hours ago and its all probably been said hundreds of times. The Rays backs are against the wall. Longoria and Pena need to start hitting. Ryan Howard is heating up. Even a former AL pitcher took the Rays deep. Cole Hamels has been unbeatable. So on and so on. Its all true. And yet in order for the Phillies to win game 5 and the Series, they have to make sure it all stays true tonight. That doesn’t always happen in baseball.

Recent memory, the Rays had all the momentum in the ALCS. They were running all over the Red Sox. Then all of a sudden the Sox monster stirred and took Tampa to seven games. Just the most recent picture of the old ball game never really sticking to the course you may think it should. Both of these teams have proven they can win, and until one wins four games, the other still has a shot. Especially when you’re talking about these two teams.

This season has been the most storybook in memory for the previous hapless Rays. All year they were running near the top of the perennial “toughest division in baseball” the AL East. Yet even as they continued to hold leads over the mighty Red Sox and Yankees the standard line turned out to be, “They’ll fold down the stretch, they’re too young to really make a run.” Yet here they are. Their improbable story is in the midst of possibly its grandest chapter. The upstart Tampa Bay Rays have proven that they should never be taken lightly or counted out.

At the same time in 2008 you had the Phillies. Without much fan fare, or credit for that matter, they took what they do have, an immense amount of baseball talent, and won another tough division, the NL East. With newspapers proclaiming the Mets were poised to take control and predicting a possible Philly collapse, the new “Fantastic Phills” simply won their pennant and quietly dispatched the Brewers and Dodgers on their way to a shot at ending the Ray’s fairytale. While baseball is a game that can break from the mold you think it will follow there is no denying one man, Cole Hamels, could single handedly end the baseball season tonight.

A game 7 will always grab the spotlight in the play-offs. However, in all reality any elimination game, and they all are eliminations at this point, can pack the excitement into every pitch all night. Elimination games can also go anybody’s way, no matter who may seem to have the upper hand.

Play Ball! But First…

Francis Scott Key never got a chance to play the game of baseball that his most famous poetry has come to be synonymous with. The National Anthem christens every single major, minor, independent, semi-pro and collegiate, baseball contest across the country. Every single night the Stars and Stripes are saluted by clamoring throngs and the faithful few alike. And even with that saturation each night, it still never loses its impact, just like the game it kicks off.

Someone, whose words are destined to live much longer than their name, once said, “At a ballgame there is always a chance to see something you have never seen before.” While that is true time and again, for the most part the game’s basics are the same each night. From opening with the Anthem, to starting with the visitors and ending with the home team, it’s a pattern game in and game out. Yet that pattern, with its penchant for brilliance, never loses its luster to the fan.

The ins and outs of the game are also the things you can be sure of when you go to, listen to, or watch a game. That surety is yet another part of the game that throughout the years has been a help and comfort in any tumultuous time. America has had its up and downs, through it all baseball has been a surety and comfort through those times. While the game does have that possible miraculous moment just around the corner, the comfort of knowing what should be done, how it should be done, and when it will be done, gives people the respite they often need from everyday life.

So the National Anthem, is just the tip of that iceberg of comfort. Every time it’s sung, be it by a beautiful country music star or a big brass ensemble, it reminds everyone that they have been here before. The game all at once becomes familiar and real, while at the same time the turmoil of their world fades to the other side of the outfield fence, still there, but just out of reach. From that first note courtesy of Mr. Key, until the last out, life hangs on to its natural excitement, becomes a game, and is bit more manageable for everyone.