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Archive for October, 2007
October 30, 2007 at 7:54 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
I don’t see it.
Joe Torre to manage the Dodgers? It was a stretch for Mr. Middle America to take on New York. But Hollywood?
Say it ain’t so, Joe.
Or better yet, say it ain’t so Dodgers.
The same Joe Torre who flooded the engine at the start of the 2007 season with his lead footed management of the Yankees pitching staff driving the Dodgers Audi? The same Joe Torre whose winning percentage in the National League stands at 47% taking over an 82 win team that faded when it counted?
That will work.
To be fair, hiring Torre wouldn’t be a ridiculous move. There is an upside. The players who disliked Grady Little, and there were more than a few, will like Torre. Everybody does, including the press. And there’s alot of press in Southern California.
Alex Rodriquez also likes Joe Torre. Just saying, but maybe the best case for hiring Torre is a 2-1. Get a manager, sign a mega star. It’s the right time for Torre to leave the Big Apple and past time for ARod to get a fresh start on a different coast.
Veteran players, and the long in tooth Dodgers have some of those, might get their acts together under the calming influence of Torre. Luis Gonzalez, Nomar Garciapara, Jeff Kent, Jason Schmidt, Randy Wolf, and Derek Lowe might find something left in the tank under his guidance.
But I’ll go out on a limb and saw it off. Torre won’t make a difference in Los Angeles. In March the press will spin everything in his favor. In April, if the Dodgers show signs of life, he’ll be a genius. But unless Alex Rodriquez is wearing Dodger blue or the pitching staff is as good as the sum of its reputations, the bloom will be off the rose by July. In September it will be an alien autopsy without the fun guests.
Torre didn’t light any fires under his Yankee veterans, and lost his job because of it. His approach won’t change, but the talent is far inferior. When it comes time to push, when it comes time to worry about wins and losses instead of veteran egos, Torre won’t answer the bell. He didn’t in New York, and he won’t in LA.
The simple question about Joe Torre, manager, is this. How did he get so smart with the Yankees and look so ordinary with the Mets, Braves, and Cardinals? Is Joe Torre Ralph Houk or Ralph Cramden?
The managing part shouldn’t be a problem. Managing is managing, and the transition back from the AL will be over talked in the press. Torre was a catcher in the NL, and managed 1800 games in the Senior Circuit, so it shouldn’t take long for him to become accustomed to the occasional bunt and the double switch.
If Torre brings Don Mattingly over as bench coach it will be a non-factor, a bad deal for both. Mattingly is ready to manage and gains little. He also doesn’t have the knowledge of National League hitters and pitchers. On a very average team, that knowledge is important.
Bottom line, Joe Torre may get three more wins with Grady Little’s team in 2007. That puts the magic number at 85, far short of the playoffs. Sign ARod and the ceiling goes up.
But Joe Torre to the World Series managing the Dodgers? Don’t bet on it.
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October 29, 2007 at 5:55 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
The Fall Classic? How about the Fall Farce.
The Boston RedSox won the last round of the Major League Baseball playoffs. Not the World Series.
The World Series used to be a matchup of the best teams in baseball. It was the Yankees-Dodgers with Reggie Jackson and Billy Martin against the great Dodger infield. RedSox-Reds with the Fisk homerun not enough to beat the Big Red Machine. The Gas House Gang taming the Tigers.
But not the Colorado Rockies and Boston RedSox.
Want to know how to get to the last round of the baseball playoffs? First lose your division. During the last ten years we’ve seen the wild card win three World Championships, 8 pennants, and make the LCS 13 times. What’s wrong with this picture? And what’s the point of winning in the regular season?
Wild cards have an advantage. They are usually playing meaningful games up to the last week of the season. It’s an edge a team that clinches early doesn’t have. Human nature, sports psychology, call it what you will. Getting hot late is better than clinching early.
Which defeats the purpose.
The Super Bowl gives you two great teams. The NBA finals usually cough up an appropriate sacrifice to the San Antonio Spurs. The Stanley Cup is a free for all. But that’s OK, it’s hockey’s season within a season. You know that going in.
But the World Series is supposed to be an event. And it isn’t. How many of you bothered to watch? How many would watch on a night when there was a good college football game on? Did you feel like the RedSox and Indians was where the real action was? Was the only time you were on the edge of your seat was to reach for the remote? More to the point, did you care?
The World Series was a party with alot of half deflated balloons. Worse, it was our party and we didn’t get what we wanted. We wanted the Cubs or Phillies against the RedSox or Yankees. We wanted the best. We got what Charlie Brown stares sadly at on Halloween. A rock. Or Rockies.
Colorado was an embarrassment for the same reason they didn’t win their division. They didn’t have the experience, didn’t have the nerve, didn’t have the pitching. Colorado was the Not Ready for Prime Time team. UXB. A dud. Feel good story? Who’s feeling good today?
What do to for it? You could do the right thing, which would be to pare down the number of divisions to two. Have a best of seven LCS followed by a best of seven World Series. Start the season a week earlier, play a few doubleheaders along the way, finish up NLT October 20.
TV wouldn’t like it. Nuts to them. Did they like the ratings for Colorado and Boston? Did they like the thrilling Arizona-Colorado series that not even the hometown fans cared about?
MLB won’t get on board. The illusion of pennant races brings out crowds in September. Gives the low budget operations something to shoot for. But the race for the wild card isn’t a real pennant race. Remember the RedSox-Yankees down the stretch this year. Didn’t mean anything. The loser was in as wild card. How hard did the teams go for the division? How much did the Yankees stress their rotation? What did it matter?
When Joe Torre was fired he called the post season a crap shoot. Two weeks later Larry Lucchino explained the RedSox management strategy was to get to the playoffs because after that, you guessed it, it’s a crap shoot.
Well a crap shoot isn’t good enough for baseball. Not by a long shot. It is time for Bud Selig, against all odds, against the natural inertia of the powers that rule the game, against TV, against history to fix this mess. If nothing else, take away all home games in the first round from the wild card.
And give us back the World Series before there is no one left who cares.
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October 27, 2007 at 7:52 am · Filed under Uncategorized
Up front, a confession. I was going to write about the evils of the DH. How it gives the American Softball League an unfair advantage in the World Series. Then I thought, if people really want a sleep aid there is always Ambien. Or the one with the ads featuring Abraham Lincoln and the beaver. (Which reminds me, if beavers don’t have opposable thumbs how could it be using a Blackberry in that one commercial?)
What to write about? Writing about writing? Or blogging. Which is the same thing. Or different.
Are we going to be doing this in 10 years? Will it be as much fun after Barry Bonds is gone? When Michael Vick is raising birds in his prison cell in Richmond and writing books about the redemptive power of birds?
Sure, we’ll have the epic 10 year collapse of Notre Dame football to discuss. "I remember back in ought-seven when it started. I blogged that it was the end of the line and nobody believed me." Jimmy Clausen may be blogging with us by that time. Probably working as a used car salesman in Wabash by then.
Will FOX let us hang around for ten more years? Will they still need us, will they internet feed us, when we’re 64 (or 32 or 41, of 75)? If the Democrats take full control and hold it for 10 years there’s a good chance most of the FOX executives will be in reeducation camps doing forced labor for violating the "Fairness Is Whatever We Tell You It Is Doctrine".
Some things will change in 10 years. The click counter on Lisa from USC’s blog will either roll over or stretch half way across the page and wrap around. Kind of the MacDonald’s of blogging. "Millions and Millions of Readers". I’ll still be checking my sitemeter banner and wondering why so many of the domain names end in dot.gov and what that van is parked out on the street in front of my house.
The most persistent atheists who blog here will probably all have religion by then and be Republicans. The most ardent conservatives will drink the Cool Aid and be wearing Birkenstocks and preaching that global warming is at hand and the end is near. We will no doubt be reading their blogs as an excuse to avoid shoveling off the two foot of snow from the driveway after the inevitable ice age hits.
If I’m still blogging in 10 years the avatar stays. If I did post a photograph in it’s place, the aging process would probably frighten small children and depress me. (And what responsible parent would let their children read a web site that bleeps out the word beaver.) Who knows, in 10 years maybe they will have cured aging. I think Joe Paterno already has found the cure, so it’s a matter of time until they market it. In the meantime I think I wouldn’t mind blogging about whether Paterno should retire for another decade. How do you not like the guy?
I’m planning on having alot of fun writing about the cult Steve Spurrier founds after he finally loses it and gets fired at USC. He and his followers will be out on golf courses waiting for the mother ship to beam them up to a land where you golf for six days and throw 40 passes on the seventh.
Mean Dovine will still be around here in 10 years. Of course, he may be running the place. I see big things in his future. Barkley will become governor of Alabama (eventually) and that will open up a place at the mike for the most knowledgeable NBA guy around. A star is born.
Carolyn T will probably be a famous author and stop blogging because her advisors will say it dilutes the power of the Carolyn T name for marketing purposes. The Gerbil Sports Net will become an actual sports network (starting with 24 hour reruns of the sixties reels of ‘Wide World of Sports’ and eventually gaining rights to womens NCAA soccer which will be "the next big thing".)
The Dan will go legit and become one of those very uptight looking news readers on the CBC. SoCal will be writing great blogs but occasionally lapse into writing a defense of Bonds against steroid allegations, long after we’ve all forgotten who Bonds was.
So blog and roll is here to stay. I hope. This strange little off ramp on the internet super highway is alot of fun to travel and you meet the nicest people.
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October 25, 2007 at 8:05 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Name me one great product that hasn’t been improved over time. OK, outside of Coke.
Yet we hold onto this idea that sports is somehow immune from improvement. Nonsense.
Take football. Player’s height, weight, and speed has exploded. Linebackers are so fast laterally they make the field of play smaller. Nose tackles are the equivalent of parking a small kitchen appliance in the middle of the field, which can neither move nor be moved. Offensive linemen can’t get out on the corners to block. So the NFL running game becomes a dying art, and Tom Brady plays catch with his receivers like they were so many frisbee chasing basset hounds.
We can do better. Put another six yards on the field from sideline to sideline so a running back can occasionally turn the corner. This will put pressure on teams to rid themselves of Conan the Nose Tackle, and also downsize offensive linemen who will now have to (gasp) run. Without the nose tackle, teams will go back to the 4-3 and finally get some pressure on the quarterback. Or, we could just let everyone go on steroids and HGH and wait for the herd to thin out.
College and pro basketball need different solutions. A return to the 24 second shot clock and elimination of the zone might help the NBA. Drugs might even work. Give players amphetamines and tell them Michael Vick has taken their household pets hostage and won’t release them unless someone, anyone, shoots the ball with double figures on the shot clock. Then we might see the first faint traces of running game begin to emerge like basic life out of the primordial ooze, or Isiah Thomas at a Knicks office party.
College basketball has stopped being about ball movement and become a recruiting contest where the coach who brings in the best one and two year players wins. Let’s go back to no shot clock. Let teams take at least the amount of time to shoot the government spent studying the consequences of the Iraq invasion. Or even 45 seconds or more. And kill off the unseemly recruiting scandals by allowing colleges to draft players out of high school (they can sign special services contracts with Nike since anyone playing college sports ultimately works for the swoosh).
Raising the basket four inches in college and the pros should be just enough to take cheap dunks away. Dunking has lost it’s meaning. Urkel could throw down on a 3-1 fast break ("Did I do that…)". Dunking is the basketball equivalent of end zone dancing. Making it less frequent will bring back the drama. And while we’re at it, let’s move the 3 point line back to where nature, and the ABA, wanted it to be. Any shot an 45 year old CPA from Duluth can make is not an accomplishment worth extra credit. If they want extra credit, let them figure out which ref is on the take and submit the name in a sealed envelope addressed to anyone who thinks the Sonics aren’t going to Oklahoma City.
Baseball is perfect as is. Managers are imperfect. The answer lies in getting rid of managers. One way-outlaw the pullover windbreaker and mandate regulation uniforms. One look in a mirror and most won’t come back in to work. Ever. We replace the manager with the fanager. Just pull someone out of the stands. Anyone who has been to as many as three games knows what moves to make, and there is a chance they’ll be so excited they might forget to bring in the fifth and sixth relief pitchers.
As for the DH, how is it nobody is being held without trial in Guantanamo for that idea? No position should be allowed that can have a "u" inserted in the middle and come out "DuH". If the DH is allowed to stay it should be accompanied by a reduction in the number of pitchers allowed on a roster to six. Tough choices for a tough game.
Can hockey be saved? I’m thinking we keep the basic concept, but introduce "Monster Truck Zamboni Death Duels" between periods. Let the Zambonis drive over small automobiles, have the Zamboni chase after people inside those hamster wheels they use at minor league baseball games, and put two Zambonis, (or is the plural pronounced Zam-bon-nigh?) at either end of the ice and play Zamboni chicken.
Which leaves us with soccer. When you see players packing a light lunch for the trip from one end of the field to the other, maybe it’s time to cut the field down a bit. Allow both teams to have one extra attacker in the offensive zone who may not go back on defense. Add an extra ball. Something, anything. Just please, no more 1-0 games.
Like fully clothed NFL cheerleaders, these are ideas whose time hasn’t come. And never will.
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October 23, 2007 at 8:01 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
"They asked me if my problem was ignorance or apathy. I told them I didn’t know and I didn’t care."-Anonymous.
Paul Byrd used HGH for a medical problem. Don’t care. Just point me in the direction of the health plan that covered three years and nearly $25,000 in prescriptions signed by a dentist for human growth hormone. You really have to pay the extra $10 a month for the syringe coverage.
Kobe Bryant may be traded. Or not. Don’t know. This is the most mutual loathing, destructive need, and mistrust you can find outside the Clinton marriage. But how do you make the cap numbers work? Does Phil Jackson stick around for the rebuilding process? And will Jack Nicholson sit court side to watch Ben Gordon?
Five University of Alabama players are suspended for being issued too many school books. Don’t care and don’t believe it. Of all the things you can accuse a SEC football player of being in possession of, text books is at the bottom of the list. "Police pulled over the pair at 0200 after Milton and Keynes were seen throwing an unlicensed copy of "Women at Work: Leadership for the Next Century" out of their SUV while approaching a traffic check point." Sure… Personally, I think the books were planted on them by an Auburn fan, although where they would have found books is anybody’s guess.
Tom Brady is on pace to throw 56 touchdowns. Don’t care. What I want to know is whether he will return to the mother of his child and dump the exotic super model. And will he be able to be the first quarterback to overcome the ‘National Enquirer’ cover jinx?
Is Joe Girardi poised to become the next manager of the Yankees? Don’t know. He’s arrogant, doesn’t appear at team functions anymore, and believes Copernicus was wrong and that the world revolves around him. Oh, wait. The Yankees have already filled that job.
Greg Ryan is fired as coach of the US women’s soccer team. Don’t know, don’t care. OK, I’m lying. Ryan is a dope and never should have pulled Hope Solo. Not that I’m admitting I watch women’s soccer. But what was wrong with Ryan? Did he think this was still 2004?
What channel is Versus? Don’t know. I want my NHL, but finding it is like looking for the puck during a TV game. You know it’s there somewhere, but you can’t really see it. I found Emeril, some "Best Selling NY Times" author who says I can eat chocolate souflee and lose weight. I even found a way to turn $10,000 into a real estate fortune. But where in Carmen San Diego is Sidney Crosby?
The Oakland A’s hired Don Wakamatsu as their bench coach. Didn’t know, never heard of him. But what a great name. You can have all kinds of fun saying it really fast. Or, you can say just the first syllable and then say the rest real fast. You can say it when people sneeze and somehow it sounds appropriate. You can even call up RV sales places and ask to see a Wakamatsu and wait while they look in their inventory.
Manny Ramirez stops to watch a long fly to the outfield. Don’t care. I’m bothered by the batting helmet, which looks a germ warfare experiment. I’m bothered by Ramirez and all the players who don’t wear stirrups and look like mid-level managers playing in street clothes at a company picnic. And I’m still trying to figure out if he’s a member of a Carribbean religious group or just having a really, really bad hair day.
Will baseball let the Cubs be sold to Mark Cuban? Don’t know. I think they should wait until his extended adolescence is over. That should be just about the time his cable news show with Dan Rather makes money, or Brittany Spears writes a book on positive parenting.
Scott Boras says he isn’t ready to talk money on Alex Rodriquez’ contract. Don’t care. I realize something baseball owners don’t understand. I watched baseball before Alex Rodriquez, I will watch it after he’s gone. He can go back to that strip club in Toronto, buy a chain of Hooters restaurants, or write a children’s book about friendship with Derek Jeter. I have at least 125 million (125,000,000) reasons not to care.
And finally, will the Dolphins get that second perfect season? Don’t know, but it sure looks like history in the making to me.
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October 22, 2007 at 5:10 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
World Series coming up. Red, white, and blue bunting hanging over the stands. The ritual torture of the National Anthem by the celebrity singer du jour. The trappings of patriotism and rituals of sports. Same as it has been since Cy Young threw the first pitch to Ginger Beaumont at the Huntington Avenue Grounds in 1903. The big game, writ large on America’s sports pages and on the air.
There is another big game underway. It features a team defending modernity, and one fiercely opposed to it. The games are played out in the hills of Afghanistan and the back streets of Baghdad, and often do not seem to result in a clear cut winner. But we have a team we can be proud of, one that exhibits the basic decency and courage that remains after lesser things are set aside.
You can reduce some very special things to the point of trivia. Turn them into bumper stickers, country songs, or rousing political speeches. So, let’s just leave it at this. As the World Series starts there are some great men and women in places we wouldn’t want to go, enduring things we can’t imagine. I hope they get to enjoy the World Series, and even more that they will come back safely to enjoy seeing one in person soon.
Our thoughts and our thanks go out to "the home team".
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October 21, 2007 at 7:15 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
6-1 doesn’t explain it. Are the Cowboys a Super Bowl caliber team? The best of a weak NFC? A trick of the light?
Don’t ask me. I’ve watched all but one game and I’m still not sure.
Start with Romo. Most people do. Guts, mobility, and a strong arm. Romo has them. And he easily could have five more interceptions already. Sometimes he floats the ball, and recently he’s dropped down enough to get a good number of tips. Good enough to be the second best quarterback this season, but good enough to take those risks and still run the boards in the playoffs? I just don’t know.
The tools are there for Romo to work with. Jason Witten, Terrell Owens, Patrick Crayton, Marion Barber, Julius Jones. But the Patriots took Witten out of the game and ground the offense to a halt. New coordinator Jason Garrett sometimes voluntarily shuts down Dallas’ running game, despite having an offensive line any NFL back would be glad to run behind. Can Dallas keep scoring thirty points a game the second time through the NFC East?
If teams learn to take Witten out of the mix, will T.O. keep his head and body together and take advantage of better matchups? If Glenn doesn’t come back will Dallas develop an alternate deep threat? Then again, it may not matter. Dallas has adjusted to anything thrown at them defensively, even by New England.
Two areas you don’t have to question are the offensive line and special teams. This is the best Dallas line since the Super Bowl days and may even get better as they work together longer. Nick Folk is the kicker Dallas thought it paid for last year in Mike Vanderjagt. A rookie with the nerves of a veteran. And Mat McBriar is the best NFL punter since Ray Guy.
All these questions pale next to the ones of the defensive side of the ball.
The 3-4. Or, should I say the 3-4? Coming into the season we were told it was a different 3-4 than Bill Parcells ran. Wade Phillips’ version was supposed to disrupt instead of contain. Meet the new scheme, same as the old scheme. Two sacks a game and Tom Brady looking as pressured as a father playing catch with his son in the back yard.
Against the run, this is a defensive line which will play well against weak lines and backfields and much less so against strong ones. It is not a sure fire run stop defense, and is one injury away from very shaky ground. Tank Johnson won’t change that.
What was that about Roy Williams being "set free" under the new scheme. Free to cheat towards the run, free to go after the quarterback, free to justify a $25 million contract extension. Who is that guy trailing behind those receivers on deep touchdown passes? Who is that arm tackler? This one the jury should not be out on. Roy "Ordinary" Williams is just another safety. At best.
Then again, this is the defense that got its back up and saved the day in Buffalo. That shut down the Bears and Rams, and held the Vikings in check today. Maybe this is a defense better than the sum of it’s parts, one that will get better as Greg Ellis gets stronger, Terence Newman literally more sure footed, and Anthony Henry healthy. The best may be yet to come.
Still, you wonder. This is a defense that occasionally can’t get off the field. There were times today when the Vikings ran at will for large chunks of yardage, even though they had no passing game to set up the run.
Where does that leave the Cowboys? A little ahead of the Giants. Maybe behind Washington if the Redskins develop anything resembling an offense. And miles ahead of the rest of the NFC.
Brave predictions? There is too much talent not to win the conference. Too much to lose in the first round? But after that, what?
As of October 21, this is not a Super Bowl team. Not yet. But it could be. We’ll know in four weeks. After the bye week, Dallas has Philadelphia, Washington, and New York. How the Cowboys play the Redskins and Giants will answer most questions.
Maybe the biggest question of all is this. How much is heart worth? This Cowboy team has more of it than the corporate Patriots and the unsteady Giants, more than any Dallas team in years. If heart counts throw all the questions out the window. If it doesn’t, this is a team a year away from challenging New England.
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October 20, 2007 at 10:14 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Some days nobody wins. Doesn’t matter who you pull for. They’re doomed.
Is it personal? Is the universe lining up an intricate series of belts and pulleys and the teeth are all meshing together in just the exact way required for every single team you back to free fall into the pits of loserdom? Who is pulling the lever? An old girl friend? There are suspects.
And it’s my birthday. This is not how it supposed to go.
I’m riding around Greensboro trying to get Wake Forest and Navy on the radio. There’s one A.M. station that carries Wake Forest. It’s like being the one missionary who doesn’t get to go to the really cool countries with all the best forms of poverty. Carrying Wake Forest is being a missionary to an unimpoverished country. Like Belgium. On the face of it, a ridiculous idea. Why is it even necessary? What can be accomplished? Who listens to the Demon Deacs on radio? What IS a Demon Deac?
I’m a Navy fan who has season tickets to Wake Forest. Why? Because it’s twenty-five minutes from driveway to parking lot and I didn’t renew my UNC tickets in time. One of those things I meant to do. You get to be 51 and there are any number of those things.
So I get the game on and Navy scores to take the lead. Life is good. I go into my favorite restaurant, New York Times in hand, and have a good meal. Well, sort of. There’s this awful woman glaring at two elderly friends of hers she has somehow conned into coming out with her and then cowed into verbal submission. She’s screaching about some injustice committed by some man. Yep, we’re all scum. But scum with a New York Times to read and lunch to enjoy. On my birthday. Then the wedding party comes in. 52 or so intimate friends fresh from a rehearsal of the living hell the young couple’s life is about to become. 30 or so guys, 29 with the same dorky hair cut. Oh well, the coffee was good.
I leave Navy to their own devices for 55 minutes and what happens? They’re down 10 points that will turn to 20 or more. I change stations. John Paul Jones famously said in worse circumstances, "I have not yet begun to fight". Not me. I dived overboard and turned to the BBC on the local NPR station.
Figured I would check up on Britain against South Africa in the rugby title game.
You never get good sports reporting on the BBC. The anchors are obviously not interested in sports but make an effort to chit chat with the correspondants at the events. "I image it is quiet a scene there. Meanwhile here in London I am clipping every single sentence and speaking at a frequency only dogs can hear, because I appear to have a stick up a certain part of my anatomy." Anyway it’s 15-6 with 5 minutes left and South Africa is winning. I’m pulling for England. (I’ve always felt we were a bit hasty with the whole independence thing so I try to atone by supporting their sports teams).
This being the BBC, where political correctness would be a religion if they didn’t hate religion, the score is followed by 10 minutes discussion of why South Africa has only two non-white players on their team. Ironically, while condemning the team for a lack of diversity, the presenter explains that South Africans of color are generally small people, unlike the North Africans who can be quite large. I give up trying to understand this whilst negotiating the release of my dry cleaning, which is being held hostage by staff members who insist that I only imagined that I owned clothing.
Home it is. I’ve got the evening free. No birthday festivities on tap until tomorrow. Notre Dame is on TV versus USC. I’m rooting for, you guessed it, Notre Dame. They’re dressed like leprichans for some reason and McKnight is going in for six through a hole large enough for Charlie Weis to slip through. It’s all very bizarre and hard to understand. For instance, how is it that every single player on USC seems to be a Sociology major? Anyway, 0-3.
A change of sport might be in order. Let’s try hockey. Carolina seems a safe bet against the Flyers. There’s the added incentive of pulling against the Flyers, which is the social responsibility of all right thinking people. 0-4, overtime loss, don’t want to talk about it.
Has it come to this? I’m resting my hopes in the final game of the day on a pitcher named Fausto, and a team whose hats are adorned with a grinning representation of a Native American on massive quantities of amphetamines.
It’s so bad J.D. Drew remembers that he was once a baseball player and tags a grand slam home run. It goes down hill from there. Tomorrow the RedSox will win Game 7 and we’ll be condemned to watching Manny Ramirez watching the balls Manny Ramirez has just hit, followed by a week of people talking about Manny Ramirez watching the balls Manny Ramirez has just hit.
And so it ends. No wins, five losses. Hopefully, there won’t be a fire tomorrow when they light the candles on my cake.
I’ll pack an extinguisher just in case.
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October 20, 2007 at 9:01 am · Filed under Uncategorized
I’m not a big Steinbrenner fan, but then who is? The man has driven baseball salaries (and the cost of a ticket, hot dog, and parking space) through the roof. He has bought an annual playoff spot in the AL East with his largesse. And Steinbrenner is going to tear down "The House that Ruth Built" in 2008, leaving in its place a monument to his enormous ego.
Unlike most businessmen who go into sports "Big Stein" was never in it as a hobby. He believes you can take business principles of production and accountability, and adapt them to a world that is often shaped by a quarter inch break on a thrown baseball.
King George has demanded his own alternate reality. One in which his pep talks and intimidation count for something. That baseball doesn’t work that way, has never worked that way, and will never work that way escapes the Bronx Bombers owner.
His money? That matters. It can bring Alex Rodriquez to New York, lure Roger Clemens from retirement, or bring forth Hideki Matsui from Japan. So, it’s also a bug light that attracts the likes of Carl Pavano, Kyle Farnsworth, and Jaret Wright? Who cares? In production work there is wastage. The cost of doing business.
Which brings us to Joe Torre. A man who this week has enjoyed the unique experience of hearing his obituary read while still alive. Everywhere you turn some manager or player is talking about Torre’s managerial skill, professionalism, and basic human decency.
To which I, like George Michael Steinbrenner the Third say, "so what?"
Take it as a given, and Steinbrenner does, $189,000,000 in payroll buys you a playoff spot. It stands to reason then, it his checkbook that gets New York to Round 1. If you claim credit for Torre, it has to be in where the team goes after the regular season. And, for the last three years, that has been nowhere.
Sometimes it seems Torre is like global warming. Everything is attributed to him. The team starts off 22-29? Ah, the wise Torre has guided the ship back from the rocks. There are never any fights in the clubhouse, any public outbursts, any backup catchers injecting heroin in some dank corner of the locker room. Why, that’s good old Joe, steady at the helm. Of course, he’s a great manager. Ask any of the players who lost in the first round for him the past three seasons.
The truth is that all those things, and none of them, are reality. Did Torre bring the team back from 22-29? Yes, but who was the jockey who lead them to a stumbling start out of the shoot? Are the players content? Yes, but so are some cows. And has that contentment bred post season success? No, it has not. Is Torre a competent manager and good human being? Yes, by all accounts he is a great guy, and there is no evidence of managerial incompetence on his part.
And there is the rub. How do you judge the impact of a manager?
I’ll make an heretical statement. No, make that two. First off, you could take the $8 million the Yankees spent on Torre last season, spend $7 million on improving concessions and restroom facilities, and still have $1 million left over to pay a manager who could have guided the team to 94 wins and a quick exit from the playoffs. For the record, Willie Randolph got paid $750,000 to manage the Mets last season to comparable results.
What the heck, let’s walk out on the ledge and jump. In November of 1961, a chimp named Enos flew on the Mercury MA-5 space ship into orbit. An New York Yankees manager, working with the mindless American League DH rule and a $189,000,000 payroll, is about as essential to the team’s success as the chimp was to manned space flight.
The Manager of the Class A Winston-Salem Warthogs (yes, there is such a team) is Tim Blackwell. I submit that if you took Torre out of New York and replaced him with Blackwell, he would make almost the exact same in-game decisions as Torre or any other manager. So Joe Torre feels insulted at $5 million? Get me the number of Blackwell, and see if that chimp is still alive.
Am I exaggerating for effect? Naturally, this is a blog, not a scientific journal. But it doesn’t take away from the central fact-managers rarely matter. Sometimes a mid-season change takes pressure off a team, sometimes players need a well administered kick to their lower regions, but most days a manager is background noise.
In the National League with the Braves, Mets, and Cardinals Torre’s managerial record was 894-1043. It seems that, like the man in the Holiday Inn commercials, Joe Torre became a much smarter manager after sleeping next to George Steinbrenner’s vault.
Someone, presumably Don Mattingly, will take up Torre’s position for the odd $3 or $4 million and incentives. It won’t make any difference, but it will save a few million and allow Steinbrenner to feel that he is making a difference. Just like in the old days when he drove Billy Martin nuts coming into the clubhouse giving pep talks nobody listened to.
As for Torre, a return to St. Louis if Tony LaRussa goes off to take Torre’s place in New York is not out of the question. He will do a workman like job, be praised by the players, fawned over by the press and probably finish in third place.
George Steinbrenner is 77. He should be allowed a few pleasures in life, a few late 8th inning rallies recalling the bygone glories. If he wanted to be rid of Joe Torre, let him be rid of Torre. The show will go on.
Strap the next chimp in the rocket.
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October 18, 2007 at 7:25 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Retire #21 http://www.retire21.org/ is a group wanting Roberto Clemente’s number retired by every major league baseball team, an honor until now given only to #42, Jackie Robinson. What Robinson meant to African-Americans, the logic goes, Clemente means to Latino players. Honoring Robinson without honoring Clemente then becomes a slight to Latin-Americans in this country.
The Robinson family sees things differently. They believe Robinson’s achievements paved the way for all persons of color, including Latinos, and that retiring #21 takes away from the singular honor retiring #42 represented.
You wonder what Jackie Robinson and Roberto Clemente would think about this honor. Both were very much aware of what their achievements represented within their communities, and spoke out forcefully against racism and for opportunity. But there is no small irony that two men who fought so hard to be thought of first and foremost as baseball players, are remembered in death as something more than individuals.
So how do we acknowledge the two legacies?
We start by understanding what history uniquely means to baseball. Alone among the major sports, baseball is understood by its fans as a continuous chain of players. Babe Ruth lives on in Barry Bonds, Ty Cobb in Ichiro, Christy Mathewson in Greg Maddux. Players long to be part of that brotherhood of greatness, to put a mark on the game that will live beyond their years. Jackie Robinson and Roberto Clemente achieved that.
The Dodger and the Pirate were men of character off the field as well as on. The fire that burned in both illuminated their achievements between the white lines, and sustained them off the field. Neither was content to leave undone away from the game what was begun on it. Robinson was an underpublicized leader and symbol for the Civil Rights movement. Clemente, a man who seemed constantly in motion on the field, gave his last measure of energy to helping those less fortunate.
Taking #42 or #21 out of play is both honor and injustice. Even while elevating them in memory, It breaks the chain of history and takes away from what seeing those numbers on the field means to fans. It denies those who aspire to walk in their footsteps the chance to bring forth their glory once again with new deeds of skill and daring.
So why not a compromise?
Why not allow a select few players wear #42 and #21, if they are willing to take on that challenge. Let teams request permission from the Commissioner’s Office and the surviving relatives of Robinson and Clemente to issue that number to worthy players. Set aside #42 for African-American players who want to wear the number and who embody the special skills of speed and daring Robinson displayed. Let #21 go to Latino players who exhibit the all around skills and flair of Clemente. And in doing so, keep them alive in the minds and hearts of baseball fans.
And go one step further.
Let Babe Ruth’s #3 be part of this honor. Today it is worn the likes of Cesar Izturis, Khalil Greene, and Reed Johnson. Good players and probably good people. But not worthy of wearing the number immortalized by Babe Ruth. Ken Griffey can keep his number 3. But he would be the only one among today’s players with that jersey.
#21 has no meaning today, even to Latin players (with the exception of Carlos Delgado). How can baseball say it cares about its history and allow Kip Wells, Sean Casey, or Jason Marquis to suitup as #21? This should not be.
Thomas Caryle said "Heroism is the divine relation which, in all times, unites a great man to other men." Let’s rethink the question of these three numbers and unite again Robinson, Clemente, and Ruth to this generation of players and fans and those yet to come.
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