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What is a scoop? Everything from getting the tiniest fact before a competitor to bringing down a president through months of exhaustive research -- a la Woodward & Bernstein -- has been labeled "scoops."
In these days of Twitter, Vine and other miracles of the interwebs, it's muddled even more. If Reporter A finds out that Joe Quarterback has stubbed his toe 20 seconds before Reporter B does, is it a "scoop"? (Sure. Why not? It's at least a mini-scoop.)
Many stories labeled as scoops developed from interviews -- the subject tells something newsworthy to the reporter, who becomes the first to chronicle it. Somewhere in the neighborhood of 100% of the scoops during my newspaper days were of this variety.
I'll discuss this a little more in a bit, but first, here's the impetus for me thinking about this right now:
It's is the 10-year anniversary of what was probably my final "scoop" as a journalist.
White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen believed he was being mistreated by fans and was so distraught he told me he would seriously consider quitting ... but only if his team went on to win the World Series.
For those who might not remember, here is the column I wrote for the Copley Newspapers and its news service ...
---
September 22, 2005
Feeling so stressed out that he regularly vomits and feeling unappreciated by Chicago's boo-first fans, White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen says he might quit after the season if his team wins the World Series.
"I've got (championship) rings already and I'm proud of them, but if I win here, if I help the White Sox do this, it will give me a chance to walk away if I want to," an emotional Guillen told me before Wednesday night's 8-0 loss to the Cleveland Indians.
"I will think about it. I will think about it twice. The way I'm thinking right now, I will tell (general manager) Kenny Williams to get another manager and I'll get the (bleep) out of here. I'll make more money signing autographs instead of dealing with this (bleep)."
I have heard Ozzie say some wild things during his two seasons as Sox skipper, but this one floored me.
Here's a 41-year-old, second-year manager who has guided a modestly talented team to the American League's best record, a guy who in just a few weeks could be the first Chicago manager in 88 years to spray championship champagne, a former White Sox All-Star who gets misty-eyed when discussing his love of the organization ... and he is seriously contemplating his grand exit.
I wanted to make sure I heard him correctly, so I asked him repeatedly to clarify his comments. And he kept saying the same things, often raising his voice to accentuate certain points.
"I'm not kidding, not at all," Guillen said. "I want the fans to be able to say, 'Hey, we finally did it!' I want to make them proud. I want to win the World Series, and then maybe i'm gone. I'll even help Kenny look for someone else.
"I don't give a (bleep) about the money; I've got all I need. The thing is, I'm stressed every day.
"Do I have the best job in the world? Yes, because I'm managing the team I love. I'm managing my team. But every time we lose, I feel sick. I (vomit) sometimes. I get mad. I throw things in my office. It makes me crazy.
"I went to the World Series as a player (with Atlanta) and won one as a coach (with Florida). If I can do it as the manager here, I can say: 'Everything I want to do in baseball, I did it.' Then I'll make my decision."
Frankly, I doubt Guillen will have to worry about winning the World Series.
Although Wednesday's loss reduced their one-time 15-game AL Central lead over Cleveland to 21/2 games, I still think the Sox will make the playoffs (perhaps only as a wild-card team). I simply don't believe they have enough firepower or pitching to advance beyond the first round.
The Indians are so much more talented it's ridiculous. Travis Hafner alone is as good as any three White Sox. Nevertheless, with the division lead dwindling, many fans are taking out their frustrations on Guillen.
A half-hour after telling dozens of reporters that he didn't mind being booed at U.S.Cellular Field - even joking about "the 30,000 managers helping me out" - Guillen showed his vulnerable side during our long conversation.
"It makes me sad when they boo me," he said. "Sometimes I think they don't appreciate me. They should, because I played my (bleep) off for them and now I'm managing my (bleep) off for them.
"You know how many managers are dying for 91 wins right now? And we have that and they don't appreciate that? It makes me wonder what happens if I only have 71 wins, how are they gonna treat me? I mean, they treat me like (bleep) when I'm winning 91.
"My kids are here at the ballpark and they ask me later why I'm getting booed. I say it's part of my job, but deep down inside, it hurts. If I was doing a (bleep) job, sure, go ahead and boo me, but I think I'm doing pretty good."
So do I. With his boundless energy, confident personality, brutal honesty, zany (and often profane) sense of humor and aggressive style, Guillen convinced a completely retooled team - one many preseason prognosticators predicted would finish in fourth place - to believe it could accomplish anything.
The White Sox have blown most of their 15-game lead largely because the starting pitchers have slumped these last seven weeks. Just when it seemed the Sox were ready to choke completely, Guillen led them to a series victory in Minnesota.
Then came the first two games of the Cleveland series, in which the Indians kept taking leads and Ozzie's resilient Sox kept battling back. If the White Sox do qualify for postseason play, credit Tuesday's stirring comeback. Guillen's forceful, can-do attitude played a huge role in that triumph - and in the team's other 32 one-run victories.
Though it's easy to quibble with in-game decisions, the true measure of any manager is his ability to steer his ship through both smooth and choppy waters. That's why he's often called a "skipper."
Ozzie Guillen has been a superb skipper. If White Sox fans don't realize that, they don't deserve him.
---
A few interesting things (hey, at least I think they're interesting) about this column on its anniversary:
++ The genesis of it was this: Guillen was talking to a couple dozen reporters before a game, as managers routinely do. Unlike most managers, Ozzie had absolutely no filter and would say anything anytime. This particular time, he was grousing about the fans, and he felt he was being treated unfairly. After about a 2-minute discussion, the subject changed to something else. (Probably about Jay Mariotti being a jerk.) But as I stood there, I couldn't help but think that Ozzie really was deeply hurt by fans booing him, and I decided that if I had an opportunity to follow up with him about it, I would.
++ On some occasions in the past, my instincts had been wrong. Either the subject didn't feel like discussing a situation in greater detail or there simply was nothing there. This time, though, I happened to be right. About a half-hour after his session with reporters, I pulled Ozzie aside near the back of the batting cage and asked him a question. He went on a 3-minute, stream-of-consciousness rant that would form the basis of my column. When he said he was so upset about the perceived mistreatment that he "pukes sometimes," I knew I had something worth writing. I asked a couple of follow-up questions and he kept going, his voice rising. Friends up in the press box could see Ozzie making exaggerated hand gestures as he talked. Because Ozzie sometimes spoke in broken English and because he often was a jokester, I asked him several times if he was serious; I didn't want to report something only to be told later I hadn't gotten the joke or I hadn't understood. He assured me he was serious and he continued to talk.
++ The result was the column. By the next morning, it was the "water-cooler topic" in Chicago sports. I was asked to go on several radio shows to discuss it. Many newspapers that had nothing to do with my employer mentioned it, as did ESPN. That afternoon, before the White Sox's next game, Guillen again met with the media. My column was the main topic of conversation.
++ To his credit, Guillen never claimed he was misquoted, never tried to back away from what he said and never claimed to have been taken out of context. (The "out-of-context" lie has become the preferred lie of public officials everywhere, as they know they can't say they were misquoted because reporters all use recording devices now.) I liked Ozzie well before this interview, but this situation helped cement his status as one of my favorite people I have covered.
++ A couple of my Chicago sports journalism colleagues tried to say it wasn't a story at all because Guillen had jokingly made similar claims in the past. I don't blame those folks for being dismissive or trying to come up with an excuse, because it's never fun to get "scooped." My fellow columnists at the Tribune, the Southtown and other publications stuck up for me, which was nice.
++ In the ensuing weeks, everybody from USA Today to the Christian Science Monitor made references to Ozzie's remarks to me. In a book he wrote about the 2005 White Sox, Tribune reporter Mark Gonzalez devoted a few pages to it. For a reporter, having written something that kept people talking for weeks or even months definitely was satisfying.
++ I was dead wrong about one thing in that column: my assessments that the Indians were "so much more talented it's ridiculous" and that Guillen wouldn't have to "worry about winning the World Series." The White Sox caught fire again just in time -- in great part because of Ozzie's motivational skills and his handling of the pitching staff -- and Ozzie became the toast of the town.
++ I never really thought Ozzie would quit, and not just because I doubted they'd win the Series. I was quite sure he was just reacting -- some would say over-reacting -- to a perceived slight. Ozzie often was guilty of being "very human," the classic example of the cliche, "he wears his emotions on his sleeve." He often got in trouble because of his knee-jerk emotional reactions.
++ I'm pretty sure most intelligent observers agreed with me that there was little to no chance of Ozzie quitting. But that wasn't really the point. The column opened a window into the soul of a major sports figure in Chicago history. I mean, the man was so distraught about the fans booing him that he regularly puked! It was news.
---
Three more favorite scoops:
1. As a 23-year-old reporter for AP in Madison, I interviewed Badgers forward Cory Blackwell, the Big Ten's leading scorer and rebounder that season. During the course of a long interview, he told me he was planning to leave after his junior season to go pro.
That was news enough because it wasn't all that common in 1984 for players to leave early for the NBA, especially if they weren't shoo-in superstars. Even more telling was the way he said it: He played in Chicago summer leagues against the likes of Isiah Thomas and Doc Rivers, and he schooled them! During the course of the interview, he also ripped Badgers coach Steve Yoder.
It ended up being a great read. And of course, the next day, Blackwell denied it all, said he was misquoted, yada yada yada.
After he spoke to the other reporters, pointing at me and calling me a liar, I confronted him at the end of the court, about 60 feet away from where the other reporters were gathered. It must have been a hilarious scene, as we weren't exactly talking quietly and our hands were moving in exaggerated gestures.
The next day, the Wisconsin State Journal took Blackwell's "side." The Milwaukee papers also were skeptical of my article.
I ended up doubling down -- getting a source to confirm Blackwell's intentions. And, naturally, he DID go pro. He was Seattle's second-round draft pick but played in only 60 NBA games. Maybe he dominated Isiah Thomas in the summer leagues -- riiiight! -- but he wasn't good enough when the games actually mattered.
2. During my time as AP's sports guy in Minneapolis, I used to joke with my newspaper friends that they should be fired immediately if I ever got a "scoop." After all, their entire job was to closely follow the ins and outs of their teams, while I had to cover four pro sports, a major university and even some preps.
But of course, sometimes scoops "just happen." That was the case in 1991 when, near the end of a difficult season, I interviewed Timberwolves coach Bill Musselman after practice. Even though the T-Wolves actually had exceeded expectations their first two years in the league, Musselman was being criticized by some for not giving young players more court time. Mostly, he was accused of stunting the development of 1990 top draft pick Gerald Glass; the ultra-intense Mussleman wanted Glass to actually earn playing time.
Not long into the interview, Musselman started expressing the belief that even management was against him. Just as I knew I had a great column about Ozzie when he mentioned puking, I knew I had something with Musselman when he said Timberwolves president Bob Stein "hates me."
There were denials all around. Musselman, who had always been a straight shooter with me, disappointed me by claiming he had been taken out of context. Stein denied there was a rift. Everybody tried to put on a happy face.
Of course, a month later, Musselman was fired.
And Gerald Glass? He was a soft player who refused to play defense and was soon out of the league -- Musselman had been right about him.
3. A year after Michael Jordan came out of retirement the second time (to play for the Wizards), I had heard from some "friends of friends" that he never really wanted to retire after the 1998 season but felt he had to when Jerrys Krause and Reinsdorf insisted upon pushing out Phil Jackson and bringing in college coach (and Krause buddy) Tim Floyd.
So I began asking around and several sources confirmed that, despite saying he was gone if Jackson left, Jordan would have stayed had the Bulls promoted assistant coach John Paxson or maybe even hired Bill Cartwright, another trusted former teammate. Then, on Dec. 31, 2002, I had a great conversation with then Trail Blazer Scottie Pippen, who said on the record: "I know Michael would have played for Pax."
With that, I knew I had a decent column, but it really came together two days later when a source extremely close to Jordan told me: "Michael would have loved playing for Pax. John Paxson would have been the perfect solution."
It was great to have the truth come out: Reinsdorf let Krause convince him he could rebuild the team quickly by dumping all the big-money players who were starting to get up there in age -- even Jordan. The Bulls would draft early (hello, Eddy Curry and Marcus Fizer), would sign big-name free agents (Tim Duncan! Grant Hill! Tracy McGrady!), and Floyd would guide the Bulls back to prominence.
As Rick Perry would say: Oops.
The Bulls stunk for years and, soon enough, Floyd and Krause were unemployed. Ironically, the man Reinsdorf chose to replace Krause was Paxson.
---
A couple of final thoughts about scoops ...
In 2005, when the Ozzie situation happened, the Internet was becoming a powerful tool -- but Twitter did not yet exist and Facebook, mostly a college curiosity, was in its infancy. When something happened on Sept. 22, it wasn't until it appeared in the newspaper on Sept. 23 that its impact was really felt -- which had been the case for more than a century.
Within a year or two, that was no longer true. Scoops happen fast and furiously, often several in a day. Now, there are what I call SCOOPS and mini-scoops.
It's hard for me to get excited about a mini-scoop -- a relatively minor story that's broken at 10:33 a.m. only to be matched by another outlet at 10:35 a.m.
I'm more impressed than ever by actual SCOOPS, though. There is so much competition and so much immediacy. Also, public figures are so guarded. So to actually "work it" and have an interesting and/or important story come to fruition ... I really respect that.
---
Lastly ...
I hope people don't read this as bragging. The mere fact that I can remember so few scoops so clearly is evidence that I wasn't exactly a "scoop machine." I fully admit that I fell into at least a couple of them.
Having said that, it definitely was a rush when an instinct played out and resulted in a legitimate story.
Real scoops are like no-hitters. If they happened all the time, they wouldn't be special.
^
Showing posts with label White Sox. Show all posts
Showing posts with label White Sox. Show all posts
Monday, September 21, 2015
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
MLB Picks, Least Valuable Players and A Fond Farewell to a South Side Star
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I believe I heard 649 announcers say Derek Jeter's game-winning hit in his final Yankee Stadium at-bat was the "perfect ending" to his career.
Hmmm. I'm pretty sure the perfect ending would have been a World Series-winning hit, but whatever.
And now that we've got Jeter in our rear-view mirror, we can concentrate on a baseball games that actually matter.
TRULY BALD PROGNOSTICATIONS
I will admit that, after being skeptical, the extra wild-card spots have grown on me. Interest in the race was high and the baseball was exciting.
The A's almost suffered a choke of Cubbian proportions but managed to hang on by the length of a Canseco syringe. Oakland genius Moneyball Beane gave up his most feared offensive player (as well as his clubhouse chemistry) to land Jon Lester, and it almost cost the team a playoff spot. Tuesday night, Lester can reward Beane by beating the Royals, who send "Big Game" James Shields to the mound.
It's nice to see K.C. back in the postseason. I was a Yankees fan as a teenager and I still get chills when I see the grainy video of Chris Chambliss' series-winning HR in 1976. Kansas City used to be a great baseball town, so it will be fun to see the ballpark hoppin' on Tuesday.
I'm thinking the Royals will win if Shields can match Lester and let K.C. get into the Oakland bullpen.
Over in the NL, I'm digging Wednesday's San Fran-Pittsburgh matchup. The Pirates have the better team but the Giants send the better pitcher to the mound. Here's another great baseball town of the 1970s that fell on hard times, but it's two straight postseason appearances for the Pirates and I think Andrew McCuthen & Crew will find some way to beat Ross Bumgarner.
After that, however, I don't like the Pirates' chances against the Nationals. Meanwhile, the other NLDS should be a great one, with Clayton Kershaw leading the Dodgers against the Cardinals' Adam Wainwright in Game 1. The only pitching matchup that might turn out better than that one in the entire postseason would be if the two go at it again in Game 5. It seems the Cardinals always find a way, but of course how true is that? I mean, they don't win the pennant every year. Kershaw and Zack Grienke ... that's a lot of pitching to overcome.
I'll go with the Dodgers to beat the Nats in the NLCS, too.
Back to the AL ... I gotta go with the stacked Angels over the A's-Royals winner. The Tigers-Orioles series is compelling given that Detroit has spared no expense in putting together a dream rotation. The Orioles have relative no-names on their staff but also have one heck of a lineup. But how can I pick against all that Detroit pitching - plus Miguel Cabrera, one of the best hitters of this generation? Turns out, I can't.
Tigers vs. Angels in the ALCS: Lots of star power and power pitching and plain ol' power. The Tigers' pitching depth wins out, as long as their bullpen doesn't implode. (Which is no sure thing.)
So that gives us a Dodgers-Tigers World Series. In the olden days, when Kershaw would have been able to pitch three times in the series after only having had to win one or two other playoff games, this would have been an easy choice. That's no longer the case, though, so the best pitcher in baseball most likely will only pitch twice when it matters most. Because of that, I think I'll go with the Tigers. Their offense can get hot and, again, they have so much front-line pitching - especially if Justin Verlander is right.
All of which probably means the Tigers will lose in the ALDS.
BALD AWARD PICKS
MVP: Clayton Kershaw and Mike Trout. After a little bit of consternation for a spell, these turn out to be slam dunks. Kershaw had one of the great seasons ever for a pitcher. Trout had a one-month lull but was outstanding the rest of the year. Both helped their SoCal teams overcome big early-season deficits to win their divisions going away. Frankly, I don't think it should be close in either league.
Cy Young: Kershaw - duh. In the AL, Felix Hernandez seems the obvious choice despite peeing down his leg in the season's final week when his team desperately needed him. If I liked any of the other solid candidates enough, I'd give Felix the thumbs-down, but I don't.
Manager: I'm opting for the beltway duo of Matt Williams and Buck Showalter.
Rookie: Jose Abreu is a 27-year-old former Cuban star, so it almost doesn't feel right picking him. But he is eligible, so he's a total no-brainer selection. In comparison, the NL rookie class is so lame that I'm not even going to bother.
LVP! LVP! LVP!: These aren't really the least valuable players in the sense that many others actually had worse seasons. But given their hype and their salaries, it's hard to top Joe Mauer and Ryan Braun. Mauer needed a late surge to get to 50 RBIs and the Twins are stuck for four more years at $23 million per for a mediocre first baseman who can't hit the ball out of the park and doesn't drive in runs. His biggest impact this season was helping get Ron Gardenhire fired. As often happens to juicers, Braun has become injury-prone. And no longer able to take his slugger's little helpers, he hits a lot of warning-track flyballs. Oh, he's also a pathological liar and a convicted douchebag. Pity the Brewers, who are on the hook for well over $100 million more through 2020. Ugh.
FOND FAREWELL TO THE NON-JETER
While my former employer, AP, and so many other media outlets were fawning over Jeter - and, to be fair, they probably should have done exactly that given all he had accomplished - Paul Konerko bowed out relatively quietly.
It was fitting. Konerko, a rock-solid ballplayer and a fine gentleman, never sought the limelight while giving the White Sox everything he had for 16 years.
I had many great conversations with Paul over the years, and I will always appreciate that, in good times and bad, he stood in front of his locker and dealt with media mopes like me.
Konerko was both understated and underrated. He had 439 HR and 1,412 RBI. He had six 100 RBI seasons (plus years with 99 and 97). He also was instrumental in the city of Chicago's only World Series triumph of the last 97 years. He was named MVP of the 2005 ALCS but immediately (and correctly) said the award should have gone to the pitchers.
In the end, I'm guessing he will have been just good enough to be have been not quite good enough for the Hall of Fame. But he should be proud of his outstanding career, and I am thankful I got to cover his first dozen years on the South Side.
^
I believe I heard 649 announcers say Derek Jeter's game-winning hit in his final Yankee Stadium at-bat was the "perfect ending" to his career.
Hmmm. I'm pretty sure the perfect ending would have been a World Series-winning hit, but whatever.
And now that we've got Jeter in our rear-view mirror, we can concentrate on a baseball games that actually matter.
TRULY BALD PROGNOSTICATIONS
I will admit that, after being skeptical, the extra wild-card spots have grown on me. Interest in the race was high and the baseball was exciting.
The A's almost suffered a choke of Cubbian proportions but managed to hang on by the length of a Canseco syringe. Oakland genius Moneyball Beane gave up his most feared offensive player (as well as his clubhouse chemistry) to land Jon Lester, and it almost cost the team a playoff spot. Tuesday night, Lester can reward Beane by beating the Royals, who send "Big Game" James Shields to the mound.
It's nice to see K.C. back in the postseason. I was a Yankees fan as a teenager and I still get chills when I see the grainy video of Chris Chambliss' series-winning HR in 1976. Kansas City used to be a great baseball town, so it will be fun to see the ballpark hoppin' on Tuesday.
I'm thinking the Royals will win if Shields can match Lester and let K.C. get into the Oakland bullpen.
Over in the NL, I'm digging Wednesday's San Fran-Pittsburgh matchup. The Pirates have the better team but the Giants send the better pitcher to the mound. Here's another great baseball town of the 1970s that fell on hard times, but it's two straight postseason appearances for the Pirates and I think Andrew McCuthen & Crew will find some way to beat Ross Bumgarner.
After that, however, I don't like the Pirates' chances against the Nationals. Meanwhile, the other NLDS should be a great one, with Clayton Kershaw leading the Dodgers against the Cardinals' Adam Wainwright in Game 1. The only pitching matchup that might turn out better than that one in the entire postseason would be if the two go at it again in Game 5. It seems the Cardinals always find a way, but of course how true is that? I mean, they don't win the pennant every year. Kershaw and Zack Grienke ... that's a lot of pitching to overcome.
I'll go with the Dodgers to beat the Nats in the NLCS, too.
Back to the AL ... I gotta go with the stacked Angels over the A's-Royals winner. The Tigers-Orioles series is compelling given that Detroit has spared no expense in putting together a dream rotation. The Orioles have relative no-names on their staff but also have one heck of a lineup. But how can I pick against all that Detroit pitching - plus Miguel Cabrera, one of the best hitters of this generation? Turns out, I can't.
Tigers vs. Angels in the ALCS: Lots of star power and power pitching and plain ol' power. The Tigers' pitching depth wins out, as long as their bullpen doesn't implode. (Which is no sure thing.)
So that gives us a Dodgers-Tigers World Series. In the olden days, when Kershaw would have been able to pitch three times in the series after only having had to win one or two other playoff games, this would have been an easy choice. That's no longer the case, though, so the best pitcher in baseball most likely will only pitch twice when it matters most. Because of that, I think I'll go with the Tigers. Their offense can get hot and, again, they have so much front-line pitching - especially if Justin Verlander is right.
All of which probably means the Tigers will lose in the ALDS.
BALD AWARD PICKS
MVP: Clayton Kershaw and Mike Trout. After a little bit of consternation for a spell, these turn out to be slam dunks. Kershaw had one of the great seasons ever for a pitcher. Trout had a one-month lull but was outstanding the rest of the year. Both helped their SoCal teams overcome big early-season deficits to win their divisions going away. Frankly, I don't think it should be close in either league.
Cy Young: Kershaw - duh. In the AL, Felix Hernandez seems the obvious choice despite peeing down his leg in the season's final week when his team desperately needed him. If I liked any of the other solid candidates enough, I'd give Felix the thumbs-down, but I don't.
Manager: I'm opting for the beltway duo of Matt Williams and Buck Showalter.
Rookie: Jose Abreu is a 27-year-old former Cuban star, so it almost doesn't feel right picking him. But he is eligible, so he's a total no-brainer selection. In comparison, the NL rookie class is so lame that I'm not even going to bother.
LVP! LVP! LVP!: These aren't really the least valuable players in the sense that many others actually had worse seasons. But given their hype and their salaries, it's hard to top Joe Mauer and Ryan Braun. Mauer needed a late surge to get to 50 RBIs and the Twins are stuck for four more years at $23 million per for a mediocre first baseman who can't hit the ball out of the park and doesn't drive in runs. His biggest impact this season was helping get Ron Gardenhire fired. As often happens to juicers, Braun has become injury-prone. And no longer able to take his slugger's little helpers, he hits a lot of warning-track flyballs. Oh, he's also a pathological liar and a convicted douchebag. Pity the Brewers, who are on the hook for well over $100 million more through 2020. Ugh.
FOND FAREWELL TO THE NON-JETER
While my former employer, AP, and so many other media outlets were fawning over Jeter - and, to be fair, they probably should have done exactly that given all he had accomplished - Paul Konerko bowed out relatively quietly.
It was fitting. Konerko, a rock-solid ballplayer and a fine gentleman, never sought the limelight while giving the White Sox everything he had for 16 years.
I had many great conversations with Paul over the years, and I will always appreciate that, in good times and bad, he stood in front of his locker and dealt with media mopes like me.
Konerko was both understated and underrated. He had 439 HR and 1,412 RBI. He had six 100 RBI seasons (plus years with 99 and 97). He also was instrumental in the city of Chicago's only World Series triumph of the last 97 years. He was named MVP of the 2005 ALCS but immediately (and correctly) said the award should have gone to the pitchers.
In the end, I'm guessing he will have been just good enough to be have been not quite good enough for the Hall of Fame. But he should be proud of his outstanding career, and I am thankful I got to cover his first dozen years on the South Side.
^
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Today's High Five: A wonderful time of the year!
^
Man (and woman), do I love this time of year! So much going on in the wide world of sports - and that's a very welcome distraction with what's going on in the wide world of non-sports.
5. OLD MEN AND THE SEE-I'M-NOT-DECREPIT-YET
My old-dude softball team, the Sons of Pitches, is 4-0 in the fall league after beating the other previously unbeaten team last night.
We not only won, we won by slaughter rule ... and we won with style, baby!
In the top of the second inning, we turned a TRIPLE PLAY. Yep, a triple-freakin-play! Runners on first and second; the batter hits a sinking line drive to right-center; the runners take off, certain they will be scoring on the play; our RCF Wayne makes a running catch; Wayne throws to SS Tom for Out No. 2; Tom fires to 1B Bob for Out No. 3. Yowsa!
We then come up in bottom of the inning and celebrate by scoring the maximum 5 runs, with Pat - our coach, pitcher and Penguin-run-alike - hitting a three-run homer. Way to go, Ron Cey! (Or is it more like Burgess Meredith?)
We have such a fun group of guys it will be sad when the season ends - and our two-year run as a team ends with it. There will be a new draft next spring and our guys will be cast about the league.
But we still have a lot of fun to go this season. It really isn't even fall yet, we're undefeated, and we have a championship to win!
4. CHICAGO'S HOPELESS
The Cubs are in last place, 16 games out. The White Sox are in next-to-last place, 15 1/2 games out. And the Bears found a way to lose their season opener at home to the Bills.
All of which can only mean one thing:
It's September in Chicago!
Fans from my former hometown at least can celebrate that Derrick Rose, who is playing for the U.S. National Team, is experiencing no knee problems.
Yet.
Meanwhile, my Panthers kicked butt and took prisoners in their opener at Tampa Bay, even without the injured Cam Newton.
The Panthers aren't a great team, but I think they're pretty darn good. I don't like talking much about Fantasy Football because people who play it never shut up when they start talking, but if Kelvin Benjamin happens to still be available in your league, you'd be wise to snag him. He's well on his way to being a stud.
3. PAIN ... AND NOT MUCH GAIN
The last Little League game I umpired, on Sunday, I took a foul ball to my right shoulder. The pain was so intense that I thought the ball must have somehow gotten under or over my chest protector's shoulder-pad attachment. But it hadn't. The ball just was hit hard and caught me in the "perfect" spot.
The next inning, I was hit by a pitch when the left-handed catcher didn't quite reach across his body enough to catch a ball that was barely out of the strike zone. The ball hit me just below the middle knuckle on my left index finger, an area that is now a lovely shade of purple.
And the next inning, a kid fouled one back off my right shoulder - again. The ball got me within an inch of the previous injury, and I was seeing stars for a few seconds. Ever the trooper, I shook it off and continued. That's why I get the big bucks.
I guess all that punishment was payback for joking around after I had taken a relatively innocuous shot off my shin guard in the first inning. A coach asked if I was OK, and I responded:
"I'm fine. My wife hits me harder than that!"
2. AND SPEAKING OF RAY RICE ...
Why is being fired by the Ravens and suspended the NFL an appropriate punishment for treating a woman like a punching bag?
Why isn't this guy in jail?
OK, I know why he isn't in jail. He is rich enough to afford a good lawyer. That being said, Rice clearly is a bad human being, he can't control his temper, he is super strong, and he almost surely is armed. You can't convince me he is not a threat to society.
Those who know me well know that I'm a softy - and a big believer in second chances. But this criminal should have to sit in a small cell for at least a few months before he gets his second chance.
1. VALUE = VICTORY
The NFL season is underway. So is the college football season, and now that there's an actual playoff system waiting at the end, I might even watch a few games. Tennis just played its U.S. Open and golf's Ryder Cup is just around the corner. Soon enough, NHL teams will report to training camp, NBA teams will do likewise and college basketball teams will hold their Midnight Madness sessions. And in soccer "friendlies" all around the world, guys with one name are pretending they were shot in an attempt to draw penalties against opponents who didn't touch them.
Things are so sportarific in September, and baseball is the sportarificest of all.
One of the things I miss most about Chicago is that I no longer live in a town with big-league baseball (or whatever it is that the Cubs and White Sox claim to play). With the Internet, ESPN and the MLB Network, I can keep up with the game pretty well, but it isn't quite the same as having not just one but two teams right in the city.
I have been enjoying the division and wild-card races, but mostly I have been thinking about the MVP awards in each league.
In the AL, the best offensive player has been White Sox rookie Jose Abreu, who came from Cuba and started hitting the second he set foot in Comiskular Park. But you know what? If I had a ballot this season, he wouldn't even be one of the first five guys I'd vote for. He might not even be in my top 10.
For me, an MVP candidate has to be on a team that at least contends for a postseason berth. He has to have come through in games that have meaning - either early- and mid-season games that have helped his team to a big division lead, or late-season games that have given his team a chance at the playoffs.
How can Abreu be the Most Valuable Player in his league if his team hasn't played a game "of value" since May? Yes, he has value to the White Sox. Yes, he deserves Rookie of the Year in a runaway. MVP of the entire league? Please.
Mike Trout seemed a lock for the award at midseason but he slumped pretty badly in August. Still, he leads the league in RBIs, he has helped his Angels roll past the once-dominant A's while compiling the league's best record, and he is dynamic both in the field and on the bases. He's still the choice over Detroit's Miguel Cabrera and Baltimore's Nelson Cruz.
Things are even more interesting in the NL, where the absence of a hitting superstar on any winning team has put a pitcher atop the MVP heap.
And what a pitcher. Clayton Kershaw has had several outstanding years, and he's now having one for the ages: 18-3 with a 1.67 ERA. He is in Koufax/Gibson territory, and he is the main reason the Dodgers overcame a slow start - Kershaw missed April and it took him most of May to shake off the rust - to surge past the Giants in the NL West.
Valid arguments can be made that a pitcher who makes 30 starts shouldn't win an MVP award ahead of everyday ballplayers, but Kershaw has been so dominant and has so obviously lifted the Dodgers, that he is an example of why it should be rare but possible.
For stat-heads who like advanced metrics, Kershaw leads all MLB players in Wins Above Replacement, and the guy in second (somewhat surprisingly, Oakland's Josh Donaldson) isn't very close behind.
The Marlins don't even have a .500 record and they are only on the fringes of the wild-card race, but if they can make a legitimate push over the last couple of weeks, Giancarlo "Don't Call Me Mike" Stanton could make it a two-man MVP race. Stanton leads the league in HR and RBI and he's a great all-around player. He's put up his numbers not in a Rockies-style thin-air-aided bandbox but in Miami's spacious, pitcher-friendly ballpark. Very impressive.
Stanton's best chance is if the Marlins make a big move in the next two weeks and if Kershaw loses some votes to teammate Adrian Gonzalez, who has been hot of late and is right behind Stanton in the RBI race. I suppose Pittsburgh's Andrew McCutchen could go wild down the stretch and steal the award, but I don't see it happening.
Right now, Kershaw is a pretty easy choice for MVP, Cy Young and, hell, let's make him governor of California, too. Jerry Brown can't have more than another decade or three in office, right?
^
Man (and woman), do I love this time of year! So much going on in the wide world of sports - and that's a very welcome distraction with what's going on in the wide world of non-sports.
5. OLD MEN AND THE SEE-I'M-NOT-DECREPIT-YET
My old-dude softball team, the Sons of Pitches, is 4-0 in the fall league after beating the other previously unbeaten team last night.
We not only won, we won by slaughter rule ... and we won with style, baby!
In the top of the second inning, we turned a TRIPLE PLAY. Yep, a triple-freakin-play! Runners on first and second; the batter hits a sinking line drive to right-center; the runners take off, certain they will be scoring on the play; our RCF Wayne makes a running catch; Wayne throws to SS Tom for Out No. 2; Tom fires to 1B Bob for Out No. 3. Yowsa!
We then come up in bottom of the inning and celebrate by scoring the maximum 5 runs, with Pat - our coach, pitcher and Penguin-run-alike - hitting a three-run homer. Way to go, Ron Cey! (Or is it more like Burgess Meredith?)
We have such a fun group of guys it will be sad when the season ends - and our two-year run as a team ends with it. There will be a new draft next spring and our guys will be cast about the league.
But we still have a lot of fun to go this season. It really isn't even fall yet, we're undefeated, and we have a championship to win!
4. CHICAGO'S HOPELESS
The Cubs are in last place, 16 games out. The White Sox are in next-to-last place, 15 1/2 games out. And the Bears found a way to lose their season opener at home to the Bills.
All of which can only mean one thing:
It's September in Chicago!
Fans from my former hometown at least can celebrate that Derrick Rose, who is playing for the U.S. National Team, is experiencing no knee problems.
Yet.
Meanwhile, my Panthers kicked butt and took prisoners in their opener at Tampa Bay, even without the injured Cam Newton.
The Panthers aren't a great team, but I think they're pretty darn good. I don't like talking much about Fantasy Football because people who play it never shut up when they start talking, but if Kelvin Benjamin happens to still be available in your league, you'd be wise to snag him. He's well on his way to being a stud.
3. PAIN ... AND NOT MUCH GAIN
The last Little League game I umpired, on Sunday, I took a foul ball to my right shoulder. The pain was so intense that I thought the ball must have somehow gotten under or over my chest protector's shoulder-pad attachment. But it hadn't. The ball just was hit hard and caught me in the "perfect" spot.
The next inning, I was hit by a pitch when the left-handed catcher didn't quite reach across his body enough to catch a ball that was barely out of the strike zone. The ball hit me just below the middle knuckle on my left index finger, an area that is now a lovely shade of purple.
And the next inning, a kid fouled one back off my right shoulder - again. The ball got me within an inch of the previous injury, and I was seeing stars for a few seconds. Ever the trooper, I shook it off and continued. That's why I get the big bucks.
I guess all that punishment was payback for joking around after I had taken a relatively innocuous shot off my shin guard in the first inning. A coach asked if I was OK, and I responded:
"I'm fine. My wife hits me harder than that!"
2. AND SPEAKING OF RAY RICE ...
Why is being fired by the Ravens and suspended the NFL an appropriate punishment for treating a woman like a punching bag?
Why isn't this guy in jail?
OK, I know why he isn't in jail. He is rich enough to afford a good lawyer. That being said, Rice clearly is a bad human being, he can't control his temper, he is super strong, and he almost surely is armed. You can't convince me he is not a threat to society.
Those who know me well know that I'm a softy - and a big believer in second chances. But this criminal should have to sit in a small cell for at least a few months before he gets his second chance.
1. VALUE = VICTORY
The NFL season is underway. So is the college football season, and now that there's an actual playoff system waiting at the end, I might even watch a few games. Tennis just played its U.S. Open and golf's Ryder Cup is just around the corner. Soon enough, NHL teams will report to training camp, NBA teams will do likewise and college basketball teams will hold their Midnight Madness sessions. And in soccer "friendlies" all around the world, guys with one name are pretending they were shot in an attempt to draw penalties against opponents who didn't touch them.
Things are so sportarific in September, and baseball is the sportarificest of all.
One of the things I miss most about Chicago is that I no longer live in a town with big-league baseball (or whatever it is that the Cubs and White Sox claim to play). With the Internet, ESPN and the MLB Network, I can keep up with the game pretty well, but it isn't quite the same as having not just one but two teams right in the city.
I have been enjoying the division and wild-card races, but mostly I have been thinking about the MVP awards in each league.
In the AL, the best offensive player has been White Sox rookie Jose Abreu, who came from Cuba and started hitting the second he set foot in Comiskular Park. But you know what? If I had a ballot this season, he wouldn't even be one of the first five guys I'd vote for. He might not even be in my top 10.
For me, an MVP candidate has to be on a team that at least contends for a postseason berth. He has to have come through in games that have meaning - either early- and mid-season games that have helped his team to a big division lead, or late-season games that have given his team a chance at the playoffs.
How can Abreu be the Most Valuable Player in his league if his team hasn't played a game "of value" since May? Yes, he has value to the White Sox. Yes, he deserves Rookie of the Year in a runaway. MVP of the entire league? Please.
Mike Trout seemed a lock for the award at midseason but he slumped pretty badly in August. Still, he leads the league in RBIs, he has helped his Angels roll past the once-dominant A's while compiling the league's best record, and he is dynamic both in the field and on the bases. He's still the choice over Detroit's Miguel Cabrera and Baltimore's Nelson Cruz.
Things are even more interesting in the NL, where the absence of a hitting superstar on any winning team has put a pitcher atop the MVP heap.
And what a pitcher. Clayton Kershaw has had several outstanding years, and he's now having one for the ages: 18-3 with a 1.67 ERA. He is in Koufax/Gibson territory, and he is the main reason the Dodgers overcame a slow start - Kershaw missed April and it took him most of May to shake off the rust - to surge past the Giants in the NL West.
Valid arguments can be made that a pitcher who makes 30 starts shouldn't win an MVP award ahead of everyday ballplayers, but Kershaw has been so dominant and has so obviously lifted the Dodgers, that he is an example of why it should be rare but possible.
For stat-heads who like advanced metrics, Kershaw leads all MLB players in Wins Above Replacement, and the guy in second (somewhat surprisingly, Oakland's Josh Donaldson) isn't very close behind.
The Marlins don't even have a .500 record and they are only on the fringes of the wild-card race, but if they can make a legitimate push over the last couple of weeks, Giancarlo "Don't Call Me Mike" Stanton could make it a two-man MVP race. Stanton leads the league in HR and RBI and he's a great all-around player. He's put up his numbers not in a Rockies-style thin-air-aided bandbox but in Miami's spacious, pitcher-friendly ballpark. Very impressive.
Stanton's best chance is if the Marlins make a big move in the next two weeks and if Kershaw loses some votes to teammate Adrian Gonzalez, who has been hot of late and is right behind Stanton in the RBI race. I suppose Pittsburgh's Andrew McCutchen could go wild down the stretch and steal the award, but I don't see it happening.
Right now, Kershaw is a pretty easy choice for MVP, Cy Young and, hell, let's make him governor of California, too. Jerry Brown can't have more than another decade or three in office, right?
^
Monday, July 28, 2014
Hall Call: My memories of Big Hurt, Maddux, Cox, La Russa and Torre
^
A year ago, here's who was inducted in the Baseball Hall of Fame: early 20th century umpire Hank O'Day, 19th century ballplayer Deacon White and Jacob Ruppert, who owned the Yankees from 1915-39.
Yep, it was quite a day filled with baseball memories for all those whose average age was deceased.
The 2014 class more than made up for it, thank goodness.
What a group: Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, Frank Thomas, Joe Torre, Tony La Russa and Bobby Cox.
I had pretty good conversations over the years with five of the six - all but Glavine, who rarely pitched in games I covered.
Here are my impressions and memories of baseball's newest Hall of Famers ...
FRANK THOMAS
When I was a 30-something sportswriter in Minnesota, I remember watching The Big Hurt put a big hurtin' on the Twinkies, turning to the guy in the press box next to me and saying: "Frank Thomas might be the best hitter I've ever seen."
I had that thought many other times over the next several years. I'm pretty old, but not quite old enough to have seen the likes of Hank Aaron, Willie Mays and Mickey Mantle in their primes. And I wasn't even born when many of the greats of the game were long retired. So Thomas looked pretty damn good to me.
If you think I'm exaggerating, here was The Big Hurt's stat line his first 10 full seasons in the big leagues (1991-2000): .320 BA, 1.020 OPS, 34 HR per year, 115 RBI per year. He won two MVPs and finished in the top three 3 more times. What a stud.
He got old and injuries started biting him, but he still had some great seasons. When he was 38 with Oakland and 39 with Toronto, he totaled 65 HR and 209 RBI.
I also will remember Thomas as a sensitive guy who sometimes claimed he didn't care what others thought but who obviously cared very much about how he was perceived. So it wasn't surprising that he had to fight back tears during his induction speech.
Big Frank was a me-first guy, as many superstars are, and could be quite a whiner and excuse-maker. But he mellowed as he grew older. I remember how outwardly happy he was in the clubhouse when the White Sox won the 2005 World Series. Still, I could tell he was disappointed that an injury prevented him from really being part of that team.
Thomas also was a central figure in one of my favorite Karma's A Bitch incidents:
The Sox won the division in 2000 but got off to a poor start in 2001. Making matters worse, Thomas got hurt in early May. Tub of goo pitcher David Wells, who was brought in to give the team "an edge," opined on his radio show that Thomas was a baby who refused to play with pain. When Thomas ultimately was diagnosed with a torn triceps that required season-ending surgery, Wells refused to apologize. Fittingly, the corpulent Wells sustained a back injury that ruined his season. I guess the big baby couldn't pitch with pain.
GREG MADDUX
As instant replay gets used more and more frequently, occasionally somebody brings up the possibility that cameras and computers might one day replace the home-plate umpire. The next Greg Maddux had better hope that never happens.
Maddux lived just outside the strike zone. Because he had such pinpoint control, he was given calls that few other pitchers got. He was smart enough to take advantage of it, working that outside corner for all it was worth.
And it was worth a lot, including 355 wins and 3,371 strikeouts.
The myth is that Maddux was a lobber for the entirety of his career, making those 3,000-plus K's even more incredible. The fact is that for more than half of his career, Maddux could pop the catcher's mitt pretty darn good - I'm talking 92, 93 mph with regularity. His control and speed changes made his fastball seem ever faster, too.
Maddux made the majors in 1986, one year after I became a full-time sportswriter. However, I was only an observer from afar until the Cubs brought him back in 2004.
Fanfare? Hype? Please! Those words don't come close to the all-out giddiness Cubbieland was going through when the team added Maddux to a pitching staff that carried the team to the NLCS the previous year. Sports Illustrated put 'em on the cover and predicted an end to the 95-year championship drought.
The question wasn't if the Cubs would have the best starting rotation in baseball. It was: Where does this staff rank in the history of baseball? Heck, some even argued that the Cubs had the best-hitting and best-fielding rotation of all time. What? Not the best-looking, too?
After the Cubs signed Maddux, I wrote that it obviously was a great move but it guaranteed nothing because they still had shortcomings at catcher, shortstop, in the bullpen and at the top of the order. Wow ... did I get a lot of angry email over that one - including one from the managing editor of the newspaper we owned in Peoria. He wanted to know why I couldn't be more "positive."
My response was that I was positive ... that the Cubs were still the Cubs, and no living person had ever lost a dime betting against the Cubs winning a championship.
The Cubs didn't have the kind of postseason choke job that they had the previous year ... because they choked down the stretch in 2004 and missed the playoffs entirely. The Cubs lost 7 of 8, and Maddux was rocked in his start during that span.
Over the next few years, I interviewed Maddux many times. He was bright and had a very dry wit, but he was extremely guarded around most of the media. I often would finish a 10-minute interview and think I had something interesting to write, only to listen to the recording and realize he had said mostly 10 minutes of nothing.
Having said all of that, Maddux was an amazing pitcher for most of his 23 years and casting a Hall of Fame vote for him was an absolute no-brainer.
Finally, something positive!
TONY LA RUSSA
I never particularly liked La Russa. He is buddies with Bobby Knight, Bill Parcells and others in the Bully Your Way To Success Club. It pained me to watch the talented and dedicated St. Louis press corps have to tiptoe around him, carefully asking questions lest they tick off King Tony.
The man could manage a ballclub, though. He sometimes tried to reinvent the wheel - as when he insisted upon batting the pitcher eighth for about a year and a half - but he usually had fantastic instincts. He definitely commanded respect from his players, including those who didn't particularly care for him.
I was several years from arriving in Chicago when he was a young White Sox manager and I rarely crossed paths with him during his time in Oakland, but I covered a lot of Cardinals games with him at the helm, including numerous dust-ups with the Cubs when the Cubbies actually were contenders.
He never backed down, trading barbs with Dusty Baker and even with Lou Piniella, whom he considered a friend.
Sadly, he turned a blind eye to the rampant steroid use that took place right under his nose in Oakland and he got in the face of anybody who dared mention that Mark McGwire was juicing. McGwire lied to La Russa's repeatedly and totally hung his manager out to dry - truly one of the worst parts of McGwire's stained legacy.
La Russa could hold a grudge with the best of them, so it was interesting and admirable that he hired McGwire as his hitting coach near the end of La Russa's run in St. Louis.
BOBBY COX
I used to like when the Braves would come to Wrigley Field and I had the opportunity to sit near Cox in the visitor's dugout a couple hours before the game. He would talk baseball with anybody who happened by, and I always felt like I learned something.
Otherwise, I didn't know him very well, but I am glad he won a World Series and I am surprised he didn't win more than one.
In his Hall of Fame induction speech, he looked at Maddux, Glavine and John Smoltz - who was in Cooperstown as a TV commentator and who should join that Braves trio in the Hall next year - and said: "I can honestly say I would not be standing here if it weren't for you guys."
That's true, of course, but it also demonstrated the humility that many say characterize Cox.
JOE TORRE
Including spring training and the inevitable postseason run, Joe Torre sat down 200-plus times per year with the massive New York media mob. Every time, he had something to give.
An astute observation. An explanation of strategy. A diffusing of a touchy situation. A level-headed remark despite the furor swirling around him.
As much as Torre won with the Yankees, I'm sure many folks - especially younger fans - might not realize how much losing he did in his first 14 years as a manager with the Mets, Braves and Cardinals. Some criticized George Steinbrenner for hiring a thrice-fired "retread" to manage the Yankees. It turned out to be perhaps the best baseball decision the bombastic owner ever made.
Torre knew baseball plenty well, but what he really knew was how to deal with people. In that way, he was baseball's Phil Jackson - as much psychologist as strategist. Rarely has a manager or coach fit his team's personality better than Torre did the Yankees' of 1996-2007.
My favorite memory of Torre is this one:
On Sept. 11, 2001, the White Sox were in New York, where they were supposed to play the Yankees that night. The game obviously was never played and many White Sox were shaken up by being so close to the tragedy. When baseball resumed its season a week later - this time with the Yankees visiting Chicago - Sox manager Jerry Manuel sounded absolutely despondent. He wondered out loud if baseball even mattered anymore. I wanted to hug him.
Then I walked over to the other dugout to hear Torre, who recently had survived prostate cancer and whose brother had made it through a heart transplant.
"One thing I learned a few years ago is to enjoy things more. Don't worry about life. Let's live it right now, folks, take it as it comes and deal with it.
"Our lives have been changed forever, things we have taken for granted, things that happen on foreign soil that we say, 'How lucky we are that those things don't happen here.' Well, they can happen here. I told my team, 'We really don't know how to deal with this because we've never had to before.'"
He was asked what if baseball is interrupted again by another terrorist attack or even by World War III.
"I can't worry about what's behind the door. That's no way to live. That's like sitting around waiting for an earthquake. You simply can't allow that to happen. That would only add to the tragedy.
"We've been through so much. I think we're ready for baseball."
How good is this guy? If I were a ballplayer these last three decades and could choose my manager, I would have chosen Joe Torre, a Hall of Famer in ever sense of the word.
^
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Not-so-happy anniversary: Five years of permanent vacation
^
I'm not going to go all FDR and call Jan. 15, 2009, a date which will live in infamy, but ...
The previous evening, I had received this email from a GateHouse Media mid-level manager:
We need to have you come into the office at 10 a.m. tomorrow.
When Roberta asked me what I thought the cryptic message meant, I said: "Well, I don't think they're calling me in to tell me my last column won the Pulitzer Prize."
Braving blizzard-like conditions, I drove the 30 miles from Lakeview to Downers Grove and was greeted by somber-faced GateHousians. Yes, I was being laid off. No, there would be no severance pay, as that longstanding policy had been terminated along with me. Yes, I would receive compensation for my unused vacation time (but not before they tried to job me out of several weeks of it). No, I would not be allowed to write a farewell column to the readers who had gotten to know me over the previous 11 years.
Just like that, I was an ex-columnist, an ex-sportswriter, an ex-newspaper man, an ex-journalist, an ex-working stiff. All I had ever known professionally was kaput.
GateHouse was going broke. Its stock price had plummeted near zero. It needed every available cent to lavish salary increases and bonuses on its top executives. (A practice that continues to this day even though the company is even more broke. Ah, capitalism!) So, even though I had been reassured just one month earlier that my position was in the budget for 2009, it wasn't exactly shocking that the pencil-necked geeks had deemed me a luxury they chose not to afford.
Sometimes it's hard to believe it's been five years since I was a full-time sports hack. Other times, it seems like forever ago.
I spent the better part of two years trying to get a decent job in the field. I wrote freelance articles for AP, my employer from 1982-1998. I kept writing this blog and, for a while, let the Chicago Tribune publish it. Some months, my check from the Tribune totaled as much as 18 whole dollars! I am not making that up. When I told my editor there I no longer wanted to write for 1/5th of a cent per hour, he actually seemed insulted. I had a guy at one Chicago online sports site jerk my chain for nearly a year: Yes, we might hire you; no, we don't have the budget for it; wait, maybe we do; no, actually, we don't.
Enough. In the summer of 2010, when my wife had the opportunity to work at Charlotte's children's hospital, we decided to move on, literally and figuratively.
Aside from the tripe I occasionally post here on TBT, I have not written a single sports story since becoming a North Carolinian. I write personal finance articles about once a month for SeekingAlpha.com, I do some "survivor stories" for the American Heart Association and I've written a few op-eds for the Charlotte Observer, but mostly I have left that part of my life behind.
I am fortunate that, at 53, I am not hurting financially because Roberta and I were big savers, because we have no debt and because she is a wonderful Sugar Mama. So I earn a little dough doing stuff I want to do, and I get a lot of enjoyment out of being a coach, a referee and an umpire, among other things.
Nobody likes to be told they no longer can come to work. We want the decision to be ours, not theirs. But life gets messy sometimes, so we adjust on the fly.
Do I miss it? Sure, some of it. Not all of it.
In honor of the fifth anniversary of GateHouse sending me on permanent vacation, here are five things I miss about my former life. But first, just for giggles and snorts, five things I don't miss ...
WHAT I DON'T MISS
Interviewing Jocks.
When my son was little, his friends would ask, "Does your dad get to talk to Michael Jordan?" I told him to respond: "No, Michael Jordan gets to talk to my dad." It was a cute line, especially when delivered by an 8-year-old, but it wasn't true. From 1995-98, I spent a huge portion of my life standing around waiting to be part of a big media scrum around Michael Jordan.
For the most part -- and definitely by the time the new millennium had arrived -- everything was packaged for the media. We were led around from one press conference to another. Comments usually were generic. I'd sit down to transcribe my tape and realize I hadn't gotten one freakin' quote worth using.
On the rare occasion that a coach or athlete said something remotely funny, the press corps would pretend to laugh as if Steve Martin and George Carlin were on stage trading barbs. It was embarrassing.
People thought we were lucky that we got to talk to these guys, but more often than not they had nothing to say. When we did get to cover an Ozzie Guillen or a Jeremy Roenick or even a Milton Bradley, it was like manna from heaven. Mostly, the routine became a chore. These guys didn't particularly want to talk to us and, for the most part, I didn't want to talk to them.
Deadlines.
When I was with AP, the slogan was "a deadline every minute." And yes, we did have to write quickly. But as I discovered when I became a columnist, there are deadlines and then there really are deadlines. If the game didn't end until 1 a.m. when I was with AP, I still waited to write until it was over. But if I didn't have my column in on time when I was with Copley (and, later, GateHouse), the newspapers I served would run something else in its place -- maybe even an advertisement.
As newspapers strove for earlier and earlier delivery, the deadlines became earlier and earlier, and I often had to write before an event had ended. If the event was big enough, as when the White Sox were in the 2005 World Series and Game 3 went 14 innings, I'd do several versions of the column for all the different editions of the papers.
Not to make it sound like I was mining coal in West Virginia but it wasn't easy!
The Internet Effect.
When I agreed to start blogging in 2007 (in addition to the columns I already was writing), I didn't get one more cent out of it. What I did get was a ton more work to do, thank you.
Couple the sheer workload with the immediacy of the Internet and there's no such thing as putting a story to bed. In addition, readers suddenly had the right to comment anonymously and in real time. It's always fun to be called a douchebag by some guy who goes by Illini69.
My last year and a half in Chicago, I covered a lot of baseball games as a freelancer for AP and I was in awe at the amount of work -- and the quality of the work -- that the city's baseball writers did: blogs and tweets and photos and notes and game stories and feature stories and graphics. Incredible. Day after day, all year long -- because there no longer is an offseason in baseball, what with all the news that takes place from November to March. Honestly, I doubt there is a more difficult newspaper job in America than baseball beat writer. It was always tough, but the Internet has made it ridiculous.
When I columnized about Erin Andrews' inappropriate behavior in the Cubbie clubhouse, I knew it would be read by a lot of people. But I severely underestimated the Internet effect and her popularity out in cyberspace. For some two weeks, I became a target out there in Dweeb Land. It was interesting ... and a little bit scary.
"Wow. You Get To Go To Games For Free?"
Later in this post, I acknowledge that my job carried a certain amount of prestige, or at least the perception of prestige. At the same time, plenty of folks thought my job consisted of hobnobbing with the athletes, relaxing at the ballpark and rooting on the home team.
Even some of my family members and close friends used to "joke" about how easy I had it, as if they knew. And what was I going to do, get mad and defend myself by telling them how much work I was doing? So I usually went the self-deprecating route instead.
Once, one of my relatives was complaining about all the housework she had to do. After a few minutes, I interrupted and said, "Hey, you're only a housewife. I have to go to football games for a living!"
The Stress.
When I was with AP, I was almost always stressed out. It was a high-pressure job, and talking with friends who are still with the company, it appears that is even more the case now. I excelled under pressure, but that doesn't mean it was easy or fun to deal with. There were several occasions I would wake up in a cold sweat at 2 a.m. or 4 a.m. and realize I had left something out of the final version of my story (a.k.a., the dreaded PMer, a rewrite for afternoon newspapers). I would call the office to make the correction.
By 2006 or so, there were constant rumors that David Copley was going to get out of the newspaper business and sell all of our properties (he did), that the new owner would care only about profit and not about journalism (yep), and that GateHouse would clean house (bingo!). It was a stressful time.
Then, of course, there was the stress I put upon myself. I never was able to "mail it in" on even the most routine AP stories, so I really tortured myself when writing my column. If I wasn't on deadline, I would read, re-read and re-re-read my column until I didn't find even one comma out of place. Sometimes, I would be 3 or 4 hours into a column and say, out loud, "This is complete crap." I'd delete the whole freakin' thing and start over. Not only was my name on my column, but so was my ugly mug. I put a lot of myself in most of what I wrote. It was only a story about a jock or a game, but it still mattered, and I had to do it right.
Now, I live a mostly stress-free existence. Maybe one of the things I like about coaching, refereeing and umpiring is the immediacy of each moment, a non-journalism way to get a little stress back into my life.
WHAT I MISS
The Travel.
I got to see the world, all on somebody else's dime. Many of the trips were mundane -- flying into Detroit for a night game and then going back home the next morning was far from exhilarating -- but I also got to go to some amazing places.
AP sent me to five Olympics (Calgary '88, Albertville '92, Lillehammer '94, Atlanta '96, Nagano '98) and dispatched me all over North America covering hockey, basketball, baseball and football.
During the first three years I was Copley's columnist, I got to manage my own travel budget, and my only restriction was that I shouldn't go over budget. I took full advantage, giving myself some great assignments. In the process, I learned how to stretch a dollar when making travel arrangements, a skill that still serves me well.
After Copley sold its Chicago papers and I became more aligned with the fine folks of Central Illinois, I still had a lot of input into where I traveled. A few times, I even got to fly on David Copley's private jet to the California desert resort town of Borrego Springs for editor meetings. I felt like a VIP, even though I wasn't one.
The Writing
Every once in awhile, I got to write something that actually touched readers. When I wrote a column after my dad passed away, I received more than 100 condolence letters -- not email, mind you, but actual hand-written letters, including one from U.S. Sen. Dick Durbin. When I wrote about my daughter getting ready to graduate high school and leave home, lots of people told me the column made them shed a tear.
One time after covering a Cardinals-Cubs game, I ran into a guy outside Busch Stadium, and he pulled from his wallet a folded, tattered copy of the column I had written years earlier about Darryl Kile's death. That's right: The guy actually carried it around with him.
I got paid to express myself through my observations and my words, and that was pretty damn cool.
As a reporter, I occasionally got a scoop, and watching my peers have to play catch-up for a day or two always was an amazing feeling.
One thing I really used to love was sitting in the media room after a huge event, the only sound being thousands of fingers banging away at laptop keyboards.
The Paycheck.
Let's not sugarcoat things: We work for money. In addition to being able to buy things we needed and wanted, that regular paycheck helped me and Roberta sock away money for the future.
Who knew the future was going to arrive -- with a thud -- just a few months after I turned 48?
The Press Box.
Basically, sportswriters are a bunch of adolescent goofballs. As we watch the Cubs collapse, the Bears fall apart and the Bulls implode, anything that enters our warped minds somehow finds its way out of our foul mouths. The amount of crapola we spew about the jocks we cover is topped only by the amount of crap we give each other.
I miss debating my peers about important issues such as our Hall of Fame ballots, which Chicago coach or manager would be the next to be fired, and whether Jay Mariotti was the worst human being we ever had encountered or just one of the bottom two.
Sadly, even before I was sacked, many of my best friends in the industry had been sent packing or been reassigned by their employers, so the press box wasn't what it used to be.
The Prestige.
I never considered my job to be particularly glamorous, but others did. I could be in a room filled with million-dollar lawyers or doctors ... and all of them thought I had the best job.
On its good days -- and there were many -- they were right.
As is the case with folks in most professions, my job gave me an identity. Five years later, I still struggle a little when asked, "And what do you do?"
Am I retired? Semi-retired? A freelance writer? A coach? A part-time golf ranger? An ex-journalist? All of those things are true, none rolls off my tongue like: "I'm a sports columnist, and you?"
As stressful and frustrating as it occasionally was, I never lost sight of the fact that what I did for a living was considered a dream job by many.
You know what? It was considered a dream job by me, too.
^
I'm not going to go all FDR and call Jan. 15, 2009, a date which will live in infamy, but ...
The previous evening, I had received this email from a GateHouse Media mid-level manager:
We need to have you come into the office at 10 a.m. tomorrow.
When Roberta asked me what I thought the cryptic message meant, I said: "Well, I don't think they're calling me in to tell me my last column won the Pulitzer Prize."
Braving blizzard-like conditions, I drove the 30 miles from Lakeview to Downers Grove and was greeted by somber-faced GateHousians. Yes, I was being laid off. No, there would be no severance pay, as that longstanding policy had been terminated along with me. Yes, I would receive compensation for my unused vacation time (but not before they tried to job me out of several weeks of it). No, I would not be allowed to write a farewell column to the readers who had gotten to know me over the previous 11 years.
Just like that, I was an ex-columnist, an ex-sportswriter, an ex-newspaper man, an ex-journalist, an ex-working stiff. All I had ever known professionally was kaput.
GateHouse was going broke. Its stock price had plummeted near zero. It needed every available cent to lavish salary increases and bonuses on its top executives. (A practice that continues to this day even though the company is even more broke. Ah, capitalism!) So, even though I had been reassured just one month earlier that my position was in the budget for 2009, it wasn't exactly shocking that the pencil-necked geeks had deemed me a luxury they chose not to afford.
Sometimes it's hard to believe it's been five years since I was a full-time sports hack. Other times, it seems like forever ago.
I spent the better part of two years trying to get a decent job in the field. I wrote freelance articles for AP, my employer from 1982-1998. I kept writing this blog and, for a while, let the Chicago Tribune publish it. Some months, my check from the Tribune totaled as much as 18 whole dollars! I am not making that up. When I told my editor there I no longer wanted to write for 1/5th of a cent per hour, he actually seemed insulted. I had a guy at one Chicago online sports site jerk my chain for nearly a year: Yes, we might hire you; no, we don't have the budget for it; wait, maybe we do; no, actually, we don't.
Enough. In the summer of 2010, when my wife had the opportunity to work at Charlotte's children's hospital, we decided to move on, literally and figuratively.
Aside from the tripe I occasionally post here on TBT, I have not written a single sports story since becoming a North Carolinian. I write personal finance articles about once a month for SeekingAlpha.com, I do some "survivor stories" for the American Heart Association and I've written a few op-eds for the Charlotte Observer, but mostly I have left that part of my life behind.
I am fortunate that, at 53, I am not hurting financially because Roberta and I were big savers, because we have no debt and because she is a wonderful Sugar Mama. So I earn a little dough doing stuff I want to do, and I get a lot of enjoyment out of being a coach, a referee and an umpire, among other things.
Nobody likes to be told they no longer can come to work. We want the decision to be ours, not theirs. But life gets messy sometimes, so we adjust on the fly.
Do I miss it? Sure, some of it. Not all of it.
In honor of the fifth anniversary of GateHouse sending me on permanent vacation, here are five things I miss about my former life. But first, just for giggles and snorts, five things I don't miss ...
WHAT I DON'T MISS
Interviewing Jocks.
When my son was little, his friends would ask, "Does your dad get to talk to Michael Jordan?" I told him to respond: "No, Michael Jordan gets to talk to my dad." It was a cute line, especially when delivered by an 8-year-old, but it wasn't true. From 1995-98, I spent a huge portion of my life standing around waiting to be part of a big media scrum around Michael Jordan.
For the most part -- and definitely by the time the new millennium had arrived -- everything was packaged for the media. We were led around from one press conference to another. Comments usually were generic. I'd sit down to transcribe my tape and realize I hadn't gotten one freakin' quote worth using.
On the rare occasion that a coach or athlete said something remotely funny, the press corps would pretend to laugh as if Steve Martin and George Carlin were on stage trading barbs. It was embarrassing.
People thought we were lucky that we got to talk to these guys, but more often than not they had nothing to say. When we did get to cover an Ozzie Guillen or a Jeremy Roenick or even a Milton Bradley, it was like manna from heaven. Mostly, the routine became a chore. These guys didn't particularly want to talk to us and, for the most part, I didn't want to talk to them.
Deadlines.
When I was with AP, the slogan was "a deadline every minute." And yes, we did have to write quickly. But as I discovered when I became a columnist, there are deadlines and then there really are deadlines. If the game didn't end until 1 a.m. when I was with AP, I still waited to write until it was over. But if I didn't have my column in on time when I was with Copley (and, later, GateHouse), the newspapers I served would run something else in its place -- maybe even an advertisement.
As newspapers strove for earlier and earlier delivery, the deadlines became earlier and earlier, and I often had to write before an event had ended. If the event was big enough, as when the White Sox were in the 2005 World Series and Game 3 went 14 innings, I'd do several versions of the column for all the different editions of the papers.
Not to make it sound like I was mining coal in West Virginia but it wasn't easy!
The Internet Effect.
When I agreed to start blogging in 2007 (in addition to the columns I already was writing), I didn't get one more cent out of it. What I did get was a ton more work to do, thank you.
Couple the sheer workload with the immediacy of the Internet and there's no such thing as putting a story to bed. In addition, readers suddenly had the right to comment anonymously and in real time. It's always fun to be called a douchebag by some guy who goes by Illini69.
My last year and a half in Chicago, I covered a lot of baseball games as a freelancer for AP and I was in awe at the amount of work -- and the quality of the work -- that the city's baseball writers did: blogs and tweets and photos and notes and game stories and feature stories and graphics. Incredible. Day after day, all year long -- because there no longer is an offseason in baseball, what with all the news that takes place from November to March. Honestly, I doubt there is a more difficult newspaper job in America than baseball beat writer. It was always tough, but the Internet has made it ridiculous.
When I columnized about Erin Andrews' inappropriate behavior in the Cubbie clubhouse, I knew it would be read by a lot of people. But I severely underestimated the Internet effect and her popularity out in cyberspace. For some two weeks, I became a target out there in Dweeb Land. It was interesting ... and a little bit scary.
"Wow. You Get To Go To Games For Free?"
Later in this post, I acknowledge that my job carried a certain amount of prestige, or at least the perception of prestige. At the same time, plenty of folks thought my job consisted of hobnobbing with the athletes, relaxing at the ballpark and rooting on the home team.
Even some of my family members and close friends used to "joke" about how easy I had it, as if they knew. And what was I going to do, get mad and defend myself by telling them how much work I was doing? So I usually went the self-deprecating route instead.
Once, one of my relatives was complaining about all the housework she had to do. After a few minutes, I interrupted and said, "Hey, you're only a housewife. I have to go to football games for a living!"
The Stress.
When I was with AP, I was almost always stressed out. It was a high-pressure job, and talking with friends who are still with the company, it appears that is even more the case now. I excelled under pressure, but that doesn't mean it was easy or fun to deal with. There were several occasions I would wake up in a cold sweat at 2 a.m. or 4 a.m. and realize I had left something out of the final version of my story (a.k.a., the dreaded PMer, a rewrite for afternoon newspapers). I would call the office to make the correction.
By 2006 or so, there were constant rumors that David Copley was going to get out of the newspaper business and sell all of our properties (he did), that the new owner would care only about profit and not about journalism (yep), and that GateHouse would clean house (bingo!). It was a stressful time.
Then, of course, there was the stress I put upon myself. I never was able to "mail it in" on even the most routine AP stories, so I really tortured myself when writing my column. If I wasn't on deadline, I would read, re-read and re-re-read my column until I didn't find even one comma out of place. Sometimes, I would be 3 or 4 hours into a column and say, out loud, "This is complete crap." I'd delete the whole freakin' thing and start over. Not only was my name on my column, but so was my ugly mug. I put a lot of myself in most of what I wrote. It was only a story about a jock or a game, but it still mattered, and I had to do it right.
Now, I live a mostly stress-free existence. Maybe one of the things I like about coaching, refereeing and umpiring is the immediacy of each moment, a non-journalism way to get a little stress back into my life.
The Travel.
I got to see the world, all on somebody else's dime. Many of the trips were mundane -- flying into Detroit for a night game and then going back home the next morning was far from exhilarating -- but I also got to go to some amazing places.
AP sent me to five Olympics (Calgary '88, Albertville '92, Lillehammer '94, Atlanta '96, Nagano '98) and dispatched me all over North America covering hockey, basketball, baseball and football.
During the first three years I was Copley's columnist, I got to manage my own travel budget, and my only restriction was that I shouldn't go over budget. I took full advantage, giving myself some great assignments. In the process, I learned how to stretch a dollar when making travel arrangements, a skill that still serves me well.
After Copley sold its Chicago papers and I became more aligned with the fine folks of Central Illinois, I still had a lot of input into where I traveled. A few times, I even got to fly on David Copley's private jet to the California desert resort town of Borrego Springs for editor meetings. I felt like a VIP, even though I wasn't one.
The Writing
Every once in awhile, I got to write something that actually touched readers. When I wrote a column after my dad passed away, I received more than 100 condolence letters -- not email, mind you, but actual hand-written letters, including one from U.S. Sen. Dick Durbin. When I wrote about my daughter getting ready to graduate high school and leave home, lots of people told me the column made them shed a tear.
One time after covering a Cardinals-Cubs game, I ran into a guy outside Busch Stadium, and he pulled from his wallet a folded, tattered copy of the column I had written years earlier about Darryl Kile's death. That's right: The guy actually carried it around with him.
I got paid to express myself through my observations and my words, and that was pretty damn cool.
As a reporter, I occasionally got a scoop, and watching my peers have to play catch-up for a day or two always was an amazing feeling.
One thing I really used to love was sitting in the media room after a huge event, the only sound being thousands of fingers banging away at laptop keyboards.
The Paycheck.
Let's not sugarcoat things: We work for money. In addition to being able to buy things we needed and wanted, that regular paycheck helped me and Roberta sock away money for the future.
Who knew the future was going to arrive -- with a thud -- just a few months after I turned 48?
The Press Box.
Basically, sportswriters are a bunch of adolescent goofballs. As we watch the Cubs collapse, the Bears fall apart and the Bulls implode, anything that enters our warped minds somehow finds its way out of our foul mouths. The amount of crapola we spew about the jocks we cover is topped only by the amount of crap we give each other.
I miss debating my peers about important issues such as our Hall of Fame ballots, which Chicago coach or manager would be the next to be fired, and whether Jay Mariotti was the worst human being we ever had encountered or just one of the bottom two.
Sadly, even before I was sacked, many of my best friends in the industry had been sent packing or been reassigned by their employers, so the press box wasn't what it used to be.
The Prestige.
I never considered my job to be particularly glamorous, but others did. I could be in a room filled with million-dollar lawyers or doctors ... and all of them thought I had the best job.
On its good days -- and there were many -- they were right.
As is the case with folks in most professions, my job gave me an identity. Five years later, I still struggle a little when asked, "And what do you do?"
Am I retired? Semi-retired? A freelance writer? A coach? A part-time golf ranger? An ex-journalist? All of those things are true, none rolls off my tongue like: "I'm a sports columnist, and you?"
As stressful and frustrating as it occasionally was, I never lost sight of the fact that what I did for a living was considered a dream job by many.
You know what? It was considered a dream job by me, too.
^
Friday, December 20, 2013
Bowl protest almost over ... and fans actually won!
^
Saturday is an exciting day. It's the start of another college football bowl season ... and, kids, you know what that means for me!
It means one more year of not watching one second of any of them.
Not the Royal Purple Las Vegas Bowl.
Not the Beef 'O' Brady's Bowl.
Not the Little Caesars Pizza Bowl.
Not the Fight Hunger Bowl.
Not the Buffalo Wild Wings Bowl.
Not the Taxslayer.com Bowl.
Not the BBVA Compass Bowl.
And definitely not the Make-Believe Championship Game.
When I started my protest -- vowing not to watch one second of one bowl game until there was a legitimate playoff system -- I was still a columnist for the Copley Newspaper chain, which hadn't been bought yet by the evildoers from GateHouse Media. When I started this, the White Sox ruled baseball, Dubya was pretending to search for WMDs and -- gasp! -- most 9-year-olds still didn't have cellphones.
That's a long time to go without watching two .500 teams do battle in the Poinsettia Bowl. How did I survive?
Well, here's the good news (or bad news, depending upon one's point of view): This is the final year of my protest.
After more than a decade insisting that a playoff system absolutely, positively was unnecessary, the powers-that-be saw the light -- and the dollar signs -- and realized that, well, yes it was. So the 2014 college football season will be followed by a four-team playoff, eventually crowning an actual champion rather than a computer-generated championish team.
While the change probably won't compel me to tune in most bowl games, I might at least stop surfing channels long enough to check out a play or three. And if the playoff matchups are compelling enough, I might even watch the final quarter of games that count.
To be sure, the playoff should include eight or 16 teams, not four. But at least this is a start. Baby steps, people.
I'm not egotistical enough to think my protest led to one iota of change. Even if the few readers who said they would join me followed through on their pledge, at the height of the protest maybe a dozen of us were totally ignoring the bowl season. Still, I like to think we represented the vast majority of American sports fans who had been clamoring for a playoff system only to be told to shut up and eat our Beef 'O' Brady's.
Congratulations, fans, you dragged the college football ruling elite kicking and screaming into a new era.
The playoffs are more than a year away, however. So, until then, enjoy watching Middle Tennessee and Navy battle for none of the marbles in this year's thrilling Bell Helicopter Armed Forces Bowl.
As usual, I'll be in the middle of enjoying anything else. Please don't let me know how it turns out.
^
Saturday is an exciting day. It's the start of another college football bowl season ... and, kids, you know what that means for me!
It means one more year of not watching one second of any of them.
Not the Royal Purple Las Vegas Bowl.
Not the Beef 'O' Brady's Bowl.
Not the Little Caesars Pizza Bowl.
Not the Fight Hunger Bowl.
Not the Buffalo Wild Wings Bowl.
Not the Taxslayer.com Bowl.
Not the BBVA Compass Bowl.
And definitely not the Make-Believe Championship Game.
When I started my protest -- vowing not to watch one second of one bowl game until there was a legitimate playoff system -- I was still a columnist for the Copley Newspaper chain, which hadn't been bought yet by the evildoers from GateHouse Media. When I started this, the White Sox ruled baseball, Dubya was pretending to search for WMDs and -- gasp! -- most 9-year-olds still didn't have cellphones.
That's a long time to go without watching two .500 teams do battle in the Poinsettia Bowl. How did I survive?
Well, here's the good news (or bad news, depending upon one's point of view): This is the final year of my protest.
After more than a decade insisting that a playoff system absolutely, positively was unnecessary, the powers-that-be saw the light -- and the dollar signs -- and realized that, well, yes it was. So the 2014 college football season will be followed by a four-team playoff, eventually crowning an actual champion rather than a computer-generated championish team.
While the change probably won't compel me to tune in most bowl games, I might at least stop surfing channels long enough to check out a play or three. And if the playoff matchups are compelling enough, I might even watch the final quarter of games that count.
To be sure, the playoff should include eight or 16 teams, not four. But at least this is a start. Baby steps, people.
I'm not egotistical enough to think my protest led to one iota of change. Even if the few readers who said they would join me followed through on their pledge, at the height of the protest maybe a dozen of us were totally ignoring the bowl season. Still, I like to think we represented the vast majority of American sports fans who had been clamoring for a playoff system only to be told to shut up and eat our Beef 'O' Brady's.
Congratulations, fans, you dragged the college football ruling elite kicking and screaming into a new era.
The playoffs are more than a year away, however. So, until then, enjoy watching Middle Tennessee and Navy battle for none of the marbles in this year's thrilling Bell Helicopter Armed Forces Bowl.
As usual, I'll be in the middle of enjoying anything else. Please don't let me know how it turns out.
^
Monday, October 21, 2013
A sweet World Series prediction and a sweeter victory
^
I didn't know Mike Matheny during his playing days, but I respected the intensity, leadership and game-calling skills he brought to the Cardinals. When he left as a free agent after helping the Cardinals get to the 2004 World Series, I columnized that they would miss him terribly.
And they did.
For about a year.
Yadier Molina has become a much better hitter than most thought he would be. Add in those amazing defensive skills, and he is the best all-around catcher of the new millennium. He was a vital part of St. Louis teams that won titles in 2006 and 2011.
Now both Molina and Matheny are back in the World Series with the Cardinals. The former is still as great as ever, and the latter is showing that Tony La Russa isn't the only recent manager who can guide the Cards to greatness.
Logic says to pick the Red Sox to win the World Series, but there's just something about these Cardinals.
Whether it's some young kid (talkin' 'bout you, Michael Wacha) pitching out of his mind at just the right time ... an important offensive contributor (Allen Craig this time) coming back from injury ... a veteran who has been great forever (Carlos Beltran) finally getting a chance to bask in the Fall Classic glow ... or the reunion of the Molina-Matheny tandem ... I just find the Cardinals' story so compelling.
Unlike 2004, when the Red Sox finally got past the Yankees and then steamrolled the Cardinals to win their first championship of the post-Babe era, this looks to be a crazy-good series.
Cardinals in 7.
+++
Say what you want about Ozzie Guillen. In 2005, he had the guts to do what no other manager has done for a couple of decades now -- stick with his starting pitchers when the you-know-what hits the fan.
In that year's ALCS, Guillen's pitchers threw four consecutive complete games and the White Sox won that series and then the World Series. If he had failed, he would have been ripped mercilessly. But he didn't.
Fast-forward to this year's ALCS. As good a manager as Jim Leyland has been, he falls right in line with every other skipper today. No matter how dominant his starter has been, he can't resist going to the bullpen in the eighth and ninth innings.
Well, like Guillen in 2005, Leyland didn't have a proven, reliable closer. Unlike Guillen in 2005, Leyland kept taking out the likes of Max Scherzer and Justin Verlander ... to tragic results.
The Red Sox deserved to win the series, but one wonders what would have happened if Leyland had the Guillen-like guts to let his aces finish what they started.
The good news for the Tigers: Scherzer and Verlander will be well-rested for next April!
+++
Jay Cutler just got even more valuable.
I'm not a big fan of the Bears' whiny, inconsistent QB -- you know, the one with one career playoff victory in eight seasons -- but I'd rather have him than a host of others. Including new QB-by-default Josh McCown.
Cutler looked awfully good standing there in street clothes while Caleb Hanie played in his place a couple of years ago, and McCown will make him look good in absentia, too.
Given that this is a contract year and that the Bears probably weren't going anywhere anyway -- I mean, have you seen what's left of that defense? -- this could end up having been quite a fortuitous injury for Cutler.
+++
Football ... baseball ... hockey ... basketball ... golf ... auto racing ... there were all kinds of contests over the weekend.
The biggest, of course, was the Best Dessert Competition in the Matthews Plantation subdivision. Won by ...
Is there any wonder why I keep my wife around?
Also, is there any wonder why my belly is round?
Congrats to my Sugar Mama!!
^
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Bunting sucks, so good thing Uribe sucked at bunting
^
If I were a big-league manager, I'd be Earl Weaver (only with less scratchin' and spittin' and smokin').
No, I'm not saying I'd be as good as the former Orioles skipper. What I'm saying is that I'd have his same philosophy for winning baseball games:
Pitching. Defense. And three-run homers.
I hate bunting and would just about never ask any non-pitcher to do it. Unlike Dodgers manager Don Mattingly, I wouldn't have told Juan Uribe to bunt in the eighth inning of last night's NLDS game with my team trailing the Braves 3-2.
Yasiel Puig had led off with a hustle double. He already was in scoring position. Why take the bat out of the hands of a proven postseason performer such as Uribe, a former World Series hero for both the White Sox and Giants? Why give away an out? Why settle for just trying to tie the game after Puig's hit created the potential for so much more? If Mattingly really wanted Puig on third with less than two outs, why not let one of the fastest guys in baseball steal the base? It's not as if Donnie Baseball is unwilling to gamble; earlier in the day, he decided to start Clayton Kershaw on three days' rest. Going with your ace on short rest used to be a routine postseason decision, but now it's a move that elicits oohs and aahs and hours of debate.
Fortunately for Mattingly and the Dodgers, Uribe tried to bunt and fouled off the pitch. Then he tried to bunt again and fouled it off again.
Then, with the bunt sign removed and the manager no longer impeding him, Uribe hit a no-doubt, two-run, series-winning bomb into the left-field seats.
Somewhere, The Earl of Baltimore was smiling.
###
I just looked up Uribe's bio and was surprised to see he's only 34 years old. It seems like he's been around forever.
Uribe has never been a high OBP guy, but he has had a knack for delivering clutch hits and making big plays. It's no accident that winning seems to follow him around. He's the kind of player I'd want on my team. When I covered the White Sox, his teammates and manager loved him, both for his winning style and his clubhouse demeanor.
Uribe homered in the White Sox's first playoff game during their incredible 2005 run, doubled to drive in a tone-setting run off Roger Clemens in Game 1 of that year's World Series, singled during the 5-run fifth inning that led Chicago's rally from an early 4-0 deficit in Game 3, and hit a three-run, tiebreaking homer in Game 1 of the 2010 World Series for San Fran.
The shortstop also made two great defensive plays to close out the Astros in the '05 Series. First, he ranged far to his right and dived into the stands to grab a foul pop. Then, just moments after catching his breath, he made a nice pickup and throw of a tough grounder to end the game and give the city of Chicago its first baseball championship in 88 years.
Had Derek Jeter made the catch on that foul pop, it would be remembered as one of the great plays in World Series history. Then again, when Jeter passes gas, it's an occasion for the national media to genuflect.
I bet Mattingly's mentor, Joe Torre, wouldn't have asked Jeter to sacrifice in the same situation that Mattingly faced with Uribe.
I know Earl Weaver wouldn't have.
And while we're talking about great baseball minds here, I wouldn't have, either.
^
If I were a big-league manager, I'd be Earl Weaver (only with less scratchin' and spittin' and smokin').
No, I'm not saying I'd be as good as the former Orioles skipper. What I'm saying is that I'd have his same philosophy for winning baseball games:
Pitching. Defense. And three-run homers.
I hate bunting and would just about never ask any non-pitcher to do it. Unlike Dodgers manager Don Mattingly, I wouldn't have told Juan Uribe to bunt in the eighth inning of last night's NLDS game with my team trailing the Braves 3-2.
Yasiel Puig had led off with a hustle double. He already was in scoring position. Why take the bat out of the hands of a proven postseason performer such as Uribe, a former World Series hero for both the White Sox and Giants? Why give away an out? Why settle for just trying to tie the game after Puig's hit created the potential for so much more? If Mattingly really wanted Puig on third with less than two outs, why not let one of the fastest guys in baseball steal the base? It's not as if Donnie Baseball is unwilling to gamble; earlier in the day, he decided to start Clayton Kershaw on three days' rest. Going with your ace on short rest used to be a routine postseason decision, but now it's a move that elicits oohs and aahs and hours of debate.
Fortunately for Mattingly and the Dodgers, Uribe tried to bunt and fouled off the pitch. Then he tried to bunt again and fouled it off again.
Then, with the bunt sign removed and the manager no longer impeding him, Uribe hit a no-doubt, two-run, series-winning bomb into the left-field seats.
Somewhere, The Earl of Baltimore was smiling.
###
I just looked up Uribe's bio and was surprised to see he's only 34 years old. It seems like he's been around forever.
Uribe has never been a high OBP guy, but he has had a knack for delivering clutch hits and making big plays. It's no accident that winning seems to follow him around. He's the kind of player I'd want on my team. When I covered the White Sox, his teammates and manager loved him, both for his winning style and his clubhouse demeanor.
Uribe homered in the White Sox's first playoff game during their incredible 2005 run, doubled to drive in a tone-setting run off Roger Clemens in Game 1 of that year's World Series, singled during the 5-run fifth inning that led Chicago's rally from an early 4-0 deficit in Game 3, and hit a three-run, tiebreaking homer in Game 1 of the 2010 World Series for San Fran.
The shortstop also made two great defensive plays to close out the Astros in the '05 Series. First, he ranged far to his right and dived into the stands to grab a foul pop. Then, just moments after catching his breath, he made a nice pickup and throw of a tough grounder to end the game and give the city of Chicago its first baseball championship in 88 years.
Had Derek Jeter made the catch on that foul pop, it would be remembered as one of the great plays in World Series history. Then again, when Jeter passes gas, it's an occasion for the national media to genuflect.
I bet Mattingly's mentor, Joe Torre, wouldn't have asked Jeter to sacrifice in the same situation that Mattingly faced with Uribe.
I know Earl Weaver wouldn't have.
And while we're talking about great baseball minds here, I wouldn't have, either.
^
Monday, August 26, 2013
Really? Three years in N.C. already?
^
It's been three years since Robbie and I moved from Chicago to Charlotte. Here are the questions we get asked most often:
Do you like it there?
Mostly. The weather generally is better. The cost of living, especially real estate, is very good. The people are nice, but most folks we ran across in Chicago also were nice. It's been mostly good being homeowners again, and we never could have afforded a place like this in Chicago. I enjoy playing 12-inch softball again and really like the guys on the team. We have made some good friends. The traffic is a gazillion times better here -- and folks here think it's bad. I'll show 'em bad!
It sounds like there's a "but" there ...
Yeah, and even I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe "but we're so far away from our kids and our long-time friends." Or "but we miss the vitality and urgency of Chicago." Or "but the food here, in general, pales in comparison to that of Chicago." I mean, it's pretty common to miss things about a place where one lived for 16 years, right?
Any "buts" that have nothing to do with Chicago?
Politics. When we decided to live here, North Carolina was considered the centerpiece of the "New South." It was a so-called "purple state," with almost an even split between parties. The big cities leaned left, the outlying areas leaned right and there was a lot of moderation in between. Sadly for this registered Independent, it has become far-right politically. Republicans won huge here in the 2010 midterm election. And even though more people voted for Democrats than Republicans in 2012, Republicans won more statehouse seats because of gerrymandered districts from the 2010 elections. The new governor ran on a ticket of moderation, but he mostly has followed the tea-partiers and other hard-liners.
N.C. has been "featured" -- how's that for a nice word for "ripped" and "ridiculed"? -- by national publications and pundits for the incredible, 180-degree turn.
Bills were bullied through in the last hour of legislative sessions. Anti-abortion legislation was inserted into a motorcycle-safety bill and then signed by a "moderate" governor who had campaigned on the promise of never signing such legislation. A voter ID bill was a smokescreen for over-reaching, obviously anti-Democrat legislation that severely restricts voting (fewer days for polling, no same-day registration, etc.); it's supposed to fight voter fraud but doesn't address absentee balloting, where voter fraud actually takes place. Our elected officials enacted a mean-spirited law that deprives long-term unemployed people federal benefits; it's the worst such piece of legislation in the entire country. Teachers AGAIN received no raises, and assistant teachers were canned even as bureaucrats and friends of the governor are getting 35% pay hikes. "Tax reform" was enacted that gives well-to-do folks large tax cuts while making a family of four earning median wages pay more. While GOP governors in many states reluctantly accepted federal funds for Obamacare, ours has chosen to let hundreds of thousands go without healthcare. Why not? After all, he and his family have it. All that campaigning on jobs to get elected? Precious little has been done in that regard and, in fact, the latest numbers saw unemployment actually climbing.
But at least it's now legal to bring loaded guns into bars, so we have that going for us!
Yes, it's been good stuff for Colbert and Stewart ... but it's real-life stuff that hurts real people. Even moderate Republican friends of ours are embarrassed by what's taken place here in just the last few months.
How are the jobs going?
Robbie is working far too hard and far too many hours. When she was hired for the outpatient clinic at the children's hospital, she was, of course, the newby. Within a year, she was the last one standing. She has seen so many colleagues come and go, and each time she has to take up the slack and then train the newcomers. I feel really badly for her. The doctors truly appreciate her, as do the administrators there; in her most recent review, she received the highest grades possible. But it's still no fun to work from dawn to dusk and be dead-tired at the end of every day. We're hoping it improves.
My part-time job at the country club is going fine. I get to play free golf at a great course during the week and my co-workers are fun to be around. Sometimes it's tough to have to work every weekend, because that's the only time Rob is off. We actually like each other and want to spend time together -- imagine that after 30 years of marriage! I also have enjoyed the coaching, officiating, volunteering and other stuff I have done. I do miss having the opportunity to write about major league baseball on a freelance basis, as I did in Chicago. In addition to missing out on the money, I'd at least like the choice of continuing that part of my career.
What's been the best part of living there?
Well, after we got a house we then got our dog, Simmie. She's an absolute joy and we love her so much.
Do you think you'll live there as long as you lived in Chicago -- or at least as long as you lived in Minneapolis (9+ years)?
Difficult question. Right now, I'd have to say that's doubtful. Between Rob's job situation and the politics here and being so far away from Katie and Ben, those are three pretty big factors.
Having said that ...
Rob's job situation certainly could improve. She has had some very good stretches when it's been fully staffed.
And politics change. It had been a century since there was a Republican governor and a GOP statehouse. If these clowns don't stop pushing the public around, they'll get voted out of office just like the Dems did.
And who knows where the kids will be 2, 5, 10 years from now? One or both of 'em might even move down here.
OK, fat chance of that last thing happening. The point is, things change.
Where would you go?
I have no idea, though we might not be opposed to someday trading "y'all," for "aloha"!
^
It's been three years since Robbie and I moved from Chicago to Charlotte. Here are the questions we get asked most often:
Do you like it there?
Mostly. The weather generally is better. The cost of living, especially real estate, is very good. The people are nice, but most folks we ran across in Chicago also were nice. It's been mostly good being homeowners again, and we never could have afforded a place like this in Chicago. I enjoy playing 12-inch softball again and really like the guys on the team. We have made some good friends. The traffic is a gazillion times better here -- and folks here think it's bad. I'll show 'em bad!
It sounds like there's a "but" there ...
Yeah, and even I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe "but we're so far away from our kids and our long-time friends." Or "but we miss the vitality and urgency of Chicago." Or "but the food here, in general, pales in comparison to that of Chicago." I mean, it's pretty common to miss things about a place where one lived for 16 years, right?
Any "buts" that have nothing to do with Chicago?
Politics. When we decided to live here, North Carolina was considered the centerpiece of the "New South." It was a so-called "purple state," with almost an even split between parties. The big cities leaned left, the outlying areas leaned right and there was a lot of moderation in between. Sadly for this registered Independent, it has become far-right politically. Republicans won huge here in the 2010 midterm election. And even though more people voted for Democrats than Republicans in 2012, Republicans won more statehouse seats because of gerrymandered districts from the 2010 elections. The new governor ran on a ticket of moderation, but he mostly has followed the tea-partiers and other hard-liners.
N.C. has been "featured" -- how's that for a nice word for "ripped" and "ridiculed"? -- by national publications and pundits for the incredible, 180-degree turn.
Bills were bullied through in the last hour of legislative sessions. Anti-abortion legislation was inserted into a motorcycle-safety bill and then signed by a "moderate" governor who had campaigned on the promise of never signing such legislation. A voter ID bill was a smokescreen for over-reaching, obviously anti-Democrat legislation that severely restricts voting (fewer days for polling, no same-day registration, etc.); it's supposed to fight voter fraud but doesn't address absentee balloting, where voter fraud actually takes place. Our elected officials enacted a mean-spirited law that deprives long-term unemployed people federal benefits; it's the worst such piece of legislation in the entire country. Teachers AGAIN received no raises, and assistant teachers were canned even as bureaucrats and friends of the governor are getting 35% pay hikes. "Tax reform" was enacted that gives well-to-do folks large tax cuts while making a family of four earning median wages pay more. While GOP governors in many states reluctantly accepted federal funds for Obamacare, ours has chosen to let hundreds of thousands go without healthcare. Why not? After all, he and his family have it. All that campaigning on jobs to get elected? Precious little has been done in that regard and, in fact, the latest numbers saw unemployment actually climbing.
But at least it's now legal to bring loaded guns into bars, so we have that going for us!
Yes, it's been good stuff for Colbert and Stewart ... but it's real-life stuff that hurts real people. Even moderate Republican friends of ours are embarrassed by what's taken place here in just the last few months.
How are the jobs going?
Robbie is working far too hard and far too many hours. When she was hired for the outpatient clinic at the children's hospital, she was, of course, the newby. Within a year, she was the last one standing. She has seen so many colleagues come and go, and each time she has to take up the slack and then train the newcomers. I feel really badly for her. The doctors truly appreciate her, as do the administrators there; in her most recent review, she received the highest grades possible. But it's still no fun to work from dawn to dusk and be dead-tired at the end of every day. We're hoping it improves.
My part-time job at the country club is going fine. I get to play free golf at a great course during the week and my co-workers are fun to be around. Sometimes it's tough to have to work every weekend, because that's the only time Rob is off. We actually like each other and want to spend time together -- imagine that after 30 years of marriage! I also have enjoyed the coaching, officiating, volunteering and other stuff I have done. I do miss having the opportunity to write about major league baseball on a freelance basis, as I did in Chicago. In addition to missing out on the money, I'd at least like the choice of continuing that part of my career.
What's been the best part of living there?
Well, after we got a house we then got our dog, Simmie. She's an absolute joy and we love her so much.
Do you think you'll live there as long as you lived in Chicago -- or at least as long as you lived in Minneapolis (9+ years)?
Difficult question. Right now, I'd have to say that's doubtful. Between Rob's job situation and the politics here and being so far away from Katie and Ben, those are three pretty big factors.
Having said that ...
Rob's job situation certainly could improve. She has had some very good stretches when it's been fully staffed.
And politics change. It had been a century since there was a Republican governor and a GOP statehouse. If these clowns don't stop pushing the public around, they'll get voted out of office just like the Dems did.
And who knows where the kids will be 2, 5, 10 years from now? One or both of 'em might even move down here.
OK, fat chance of that last thing happening. The point is, things change.
Where would you go?
I have no idea, though we might not be opposed to someday trading "y'all," for "aloha"!
^
Monday, July 15, 2013
Today's High 5: MLB All-Star Break Edition
^
5. Any conversation about baseball's most overpaid players has to start and end with Alex Rodriguez. I mean, the guy has a $275 million contract, hasn't played a minute this season due to injury, looked washed up last year and soon could be suspended for taking PEDs. Yep, A-Rod is a good first choice.
But then who?
Josh Hamilton? Albert Pujols? Alfonso Soriano? Mark Teixeira? Johan Santana? All fine choices. And there are plenty of other candidates.
Why do few if any mention Joe Mauer?
The Twins catcher is the All-American boy. Good looking. Looks like he's worth $184 million. Multiple All-Star. Spurned bigger offers from other teams to stay with his hometown team. He's batting .320, ninth-best in the majors.
You look at all that and you don't want him to be in the conversation. But ...
Mauer has 32 RBI at the All-Star break. Thirty-two! And unlike many of the guys on many overpaid lists, he hasn't been injured.
You know who has more than 32 RBI so far this season?
++ 128 other ballplayers.
++ 15 other catchers ... including his own backup, Ryan Doumit (who also plays OF and DH) ... and Milwaukee's Jonathan Lucroy, Mauer's former backup.
++ at least 8 leadoff men, including one in the NL (Matt Carpenter of St. Louis), who has 13 more RBI than Mauer even though he bats behind the pitcher.
++ 5 other Twins, who combined don't make anywhere near $184 million.
++ Pujols, Soriano and even Hamilton, who has looked lost at the plate most of the season.
++ Brewers OF Ryan Braun, who has missed 30 games with injuries.
++ And, of course, Miguel Cabrera, who goes into the break with 95 RBI -- three times as many as Mauer. I never thought I'd say a guy with a $153.3 million contract was a bargain!
4. The Cubs and White Sox are a combined 27 games under .500 and 29 games out of first place. At least the Cubs have admitted they're rebuilding.
3. Giants ex-stud Tim Lincecum pitched a no-hitter against the anemic Padres on Saturday. He was allowed to throw 148 pitches.
148 pitches! Wow. I hope the no-no was worth it.
In the eighth and ninth innings, the one-time flamethrower's fastball was topping out at 91 mph. His mechanics have been messed up the last couple of years.
"There was no way he was coming out," Giants manager Bruce Bochy said. "I was just praying he didn't hit the 150 mark."
He should be praying Lincicum avoids the disabled list.
2. MIDSEASON AWARDS:
AL MVP: Miguel Cabrera, Tigers. It's a very close two-man race between Mr. Triple Crown and Baltimore's Eric Davis. Right now, we'll give a slight edge to the guy who has his team in first place.
NL MVP: Yadier Molina, Cardinals. The No. 1 catcher in baseball -- ridiculously better than Mauer -- does so much behind the plate for the NL's best team that it almost doesn't matter what he does at the plate. Having said that, he also leads the league in batting. Narrow call over teammate Allen Craig and Arizona's Paul Goldschmidt.
AL Cy Young: Bartolo Colon, A's. Let's give him something to be happy about because there's word that he might get suspended for juicing. I never would have guessed that he'd need to cheat to get that body! Max Scherzer and Felix Hernandez are right up there, too.
NL Cy Young: Clayton Kershaw is only 8-6 but he leads the league in ERA, WHIP and BA against. Tough call over Patrick Corbin, Jordan Zimmerman, Matt Harvey and Adam Wainwright.
1. At 56-37, the Pirates have baseball's third-best record.
I want to believe in them.
Then again, I wanted to believe in them last season, too.
There's absolutely no way they'll find some way to go 24-45 in the second half to wrap up their 21st straight losing season, right?
Right?
^
5. Any conversation about baseball's most overpaid players has to start and end with Alex Rodriguez. I mean, the guy has a $275 million contract, hasn't played a minute this season due to injury, looked washed up last year and soon could be suspended for taking PEDs. Yep, A-Rod is a good first choice.
But then who?
Josh Hamilton? Albert Pujols? Alfonso Soriano? Mark Teixeira? Johan Santana? All fine choices. And there are plenty of other candidates.
Why do few if any mention Joe Mauer?
The Twins catcher is the All-American boy. Good looking. Looks like he's worth $184 million. Multiple All-Star. Spurned bigger offers from other teams to stay with his hometown team. He's batting .320, ninth-best in the majors.
You look at all that and you don't want him to be in the conversation. But ...
Mauer has 32 RBI at the All-Star break. Thirty-two! And unlike many of the guys on many overpaid lists, he hasn't been injured.
You know who has more than 32 RBI so far this season?
++ 128 other ballplayers.
++ 15 other catchers ... including his own backup, Ryan Doumit (who also plays OF and DH) ... and Milwaukee's Jonathan Lucroy, Mauer's former backup.
++ at least 8 leadoff men, including one in the NL (Matt Carpenter of St. Louis), who has 13 more RBI than Mauer even though he bats behind the pitcher.
++ 5 other Twins, who combined don't make anywhere near $184 million.
++ Pujols, Soriano and even Hamilton, who has looked lost at the plate most of the season.
++ Brewers OF Ryan Braun, who has missed 30 games with injuries.
++ And, of course, Miguel Cabrera, who goes into the break with 95 RBI -- three times as many as Mauer. I never thought I'd say a guy with a $153.3 million contract was a bargain!
4. The Cubs and White Sox are a combined 27 games under .500 and 29 games out of first place. At least the Cubs have admitted they're rebuilding.
3. Giants ex-stud Tim Lincecum pitched a no-hitter against the anemic Padres on Saturday. He was allowed to throw 148 pitches.
148 pitches! Wow. I hope the no-no was worth it.
In the eighth and ninth innings, the one-time flamethrower's fastball was topping out at 91 mph. His mechanics have been messed up the last couple of years.
"There was no way he was coming out," Giants manager Bruce Bochy said. "I was just praying he didn't hit the 150 mark."
He should be praying Lincicum avoids the disabled list.
2. MIDSEASON AWARDS:
AL MVP: Miguel Cabrera, Tigers. It's a very close two-man race between Mr. Triple Crown and Baltimore's Eric Davis. Right now, we'll give a slight edge to the guy who has his team in first place.
NL MVP: Yadier Molina, Cardinals. The No. 1 catcher in baseball -- ridiculously better than Mauer -- does so much behind the plate for the NL's best team that it almost doesn't matter what he does at the plate. Having said that, he also leads the league in batting. Narrow call over teammate Allen Craig and Arizona's Paul Goldschmidt.
AL Cy Young: Bartolo Colon, A's. Let's give him something to be happy about because there's word that he might get suspended for juicing. I never would have guessed that he'd need to cheat to get that body! Max Scherzer and Felix Hernandez are right up there, too.
NL Cy Young: Clayton Kershaw is only 8-6 but he leads the league in ERA, WHIP and BA against. Tough call over Patrick Corbin, Jordan Zimmerman, Matt Harvey and Adam Wainwright.
1. At 56-37, the Pirates have baseball's third-best record.
I want to believe in them.
Then again, I wanted to believe in them last season, too.
There's absolutely no way they'll find some way to go 24-45 in the second half to wrap up their 21st straight losing season, right?
Right?
^
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Today's High 5: Asking politically correct golf fans and Game of Thrones nerds to chill out
5. Those who believe the PGA should have suspended, fined or punished Sergio Garcia in some other way for his racist "fried chicken" remark aimed at Tiger Woods, get a clue.
Garcia already has been punished in the court of public opinion. With his muted reaction, Tiger came off as classy while Sergio merely sounded assy.
And then there's this: Garcia punishes himself every time he plays a major by choking like the dog he is. The U.S. Open figures to be yet another failure for the whining Spaniard -- an "athlete" who is the diametric opposite of countryman Rafa Nadal.
Pro sports leagues shouldn't legislate political correctness. Society does a great job deciding these things.
4. I'm pretty sure the Spurs just made a half-dozen more 3-pointers. Which is incredible because, as I write this, Game 3 has been over for about an hour.
Look, the Spurs made every shot they launched toward the basket and the Heat pretty much stunk. Kind of the exact opposite what happened in Game 2.
LeBron & Co. are in no more trouble than the Spurs were after they were routed two nights earlier.
Now, if the same thing happens in Game 4 ...
3. The Sons of Pitches, the oldie-but-goodie-league softball team for which I play, closed out the regular season Tuesday with our fourth straight victory.
We are hitting the ball, making most of the plays in the field and taking care of business on the mound. We were especially sharp Tuesday, overcoming our few bad plays by playing sound fundamental softball and delivering timely hits. Afterward, nine of us went out for a beverage -- which is about three times as much as the typical turnout last season. That's what I call camaraderie!
The playoffs start next week and we have as good a chance at the title as anybody does. We will be missing our shortstop and best player, Tom, for the first couple of postseason games, but I still feel really good about this team.
We have fun, we like each other and we're playing well. That's what this is supposed to be about.
2. The Cubs and White Sox owe the Blackhawks big-time.
Chicago is ga-ga over its hockey team's second Stanley Cup Finals appearance this decade. The Blackhawks play the Bruins in a series that will last almost until the Bears start training camp. Baseball hasn't mattered this little in the Windy City since Mayor Daley was handing the Sox taxpayer money for Comiskey Park while telling the Cubs they couldn't spend their own to upgrade Wrigley.
On Monday, both the Cubs and Sox played home games in heavy fog.
A perfect metaphor, my friends.
1. Yet another fantastic season of Game of Thrones has concluded, and, speaking on behalf of all of us dummies who are watching the HBO series without having read all gazillion G.O.T. books ...
Hey, book-reading nerds: Stop telling us what is going to happen next!!
From what I understand, the show is quite faithful to the novels, which means every G.O.T. reader already knows all the stunning developments before each episode airs. I guess these folks just want to see how HBO pulls off the best scenes, but as a sports guy who will not watch a sporting event I have taped if I accidentally find out what happened, I like to be surprised.
Game of Thrones has had some of the most shocking scenes in recent TV history. Again, speaking for us television-watching dopes, I want to keep being shocked going forward.
Is that too much to ask for?
^
Garcia already has been punished in the court of public opinion. With his muted reaction, Tiger came off as classy while Sergio merely sounded assy.
And then there's this: Garcia punishes himself every time he plays a major by choking like the dog he is. The U.S. Open figures to be yet another failure for the whining Spaniard -- an "athlete" who is the diametric opposite of countryman Rafa Nadal.
Pro sports leagues shouldn't legislate political correctness. Society does a great job deciding these things.
4. I'm pretty sure the Spurs just made a half-dozen more 3-pointers. Which is incredible because, as I write this, Game 3 has been over for about an hour.
Look, the Spurs made every shot they launched toward the basket and the Heat pretty much stunk. Kind of the exact opposite what happened in Game 2.
LeBron & Co. are in no more trouble than the Spurs were after they were routed two nights earlier.
Now, if the same thing happens in Game 4 ...
3. The Sons of Pitches, the oldie-but-goodie-league softball team for which I play, closed out the regular season Tuesday with our fourth straight victory.
We are hitting the ball, making most of the plays in the field and taking care of business on the mound. We were especially sharp Tuesday, overcoming our few bad plays by playing sound fundamental softball and delivering timely hits. Afterward, nine of us went out for a beverage -- which is about three times as much as the typical turnout last season. That's what I call camaraderie!
The playoffs start next week and we have as good a chance at the title as anybody does. We will be missing our shortstop and best player, Tom, for the first couple of postseason games, but I still feel really good about this team.
We have fun, we like each other and we're playing well. That's what this is supposed to be about.
2. The Cubs and White Sox owe the Blackhawks big-time.
Chicago is ga-ga over its hockey team's second Stanley Cup Finals appearance this decade. The Blackhawks play the Bruins in a series that will last almost until the Bears start training camp. Baseball hasn't mattered this little in the Windy City since Mayor Daley was handing the Sox taxpayer money for Comiskey Park while telling the Cubs they couldn't spend their own to upgrade Wrigley.
On Monday, both the Cubs and Sox played home games in heavy fog.
A perfect metaphor, my friends.
1. Yet another fantastic season of Game of Thrones has concluded, and, speaking on behalf of all of us dummies who are watching the HBO series without having read all gazillion G.O.T. books ...
Hey, book-reading nerds: Stop telling us what is going to happen next!!
From what I understand, the show is quite faithful to the novels, which means every G.O.T. reader already knows all the stunning developments before each episode airs. I guess these folks just want to see how HBO pulls off the best scenes, but as a sports guy who will not watch a sporting event I have taped if I accidentally find out what happened, I like to be surprised.
Game of Thrones has had some of the most shocking scenes in recent TV history. Again, speaking for us television-watching dopes, I want to keep being shocked going forward.
Is that too much to ask for?
^
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Unlike Cubbies, Blackhawks found a way to win -- not another way lose
^
If that had been the Cubs playing the Red Wings, they would have lost in overtime ... and "cursed" again would have been the word of the day, week, month, year, decade and century.
If that had been the White Sox playing the Red Wings, they would have lost in overtime ... and Hawk would have been whining about the dadgum dodobird who cost them the series.
If that had been the Bulls playing the Red Wings, they would have lost in overtime ... and conspiracy theorists would have opined that "of course, the NBA wanted the Red Wings to win."
If that had been the Bears playing the Red Wings, they would have lost in overtime ... and Jay Cutler would have shoved an offensive lineman after J.C.'s game-losing interception.
Thankfully, the Blackhawks were the Chicago team playing the Red Wings.
They weren't happy that a bad offsetting-penalty call nullified Niklas Hjalmarsson's apparent game-winning goal with less than 2 minutes left in regulation. But they quickly got over the disappointment, regrouped during the break before overtime and won it on Brent Seabrook's goal early in OT.
Blackhawks captain Jonathan Toews, who is trying to lead his squad to a second Stanley Cup championship in four years, rallied the team after regulation, reminding his mates that the refs hadn't cost the Hawks the series. The Blackhawks, he said, still controlled their own destiny.
"Keep working," Toews said. "We were not going to go away that way."
Yes, it sucks to be victimized by a bad call. But every game in every sport includes hundreds of good plays and bad plays by both teams, good moves and bad moves by both coaches and good calls and bad calls by the officials. It's especially pathetic when a team caves after a bad call or an unfortunate bounce that doesn't even end the season -- yes, I'm talking to you, 1985 Cardinals, 1986 Red Sox and 2003 Cubs.
Many people forget that even after Don Denkinger's screw-up, Bill Buckner's blunder and Steve Bartman's foul play, the Cards, Sox and Cubs still had a chance to prevail. Each memorable moment came in a Game 6 and only tied the series. Instead, St. Louis, Boston and Chicago shrunk from the challenge and folded in Game 7. To this day, fans of those teams blame Denkinger, Buckner and Bartman.
If only those teams -- if only ALL teams -- took fate into their own hands, held themselves accountable and got the job done.
You know, just as Toews and the Blackhawks did.
^
If that had been the Cubs playing the Red Wings, they would have lost in overtime ... and "cursed" again would have been the word of the day, week, month, year, decade and century.
If that had been the White Sox playing the Red Wings, they would have lost in overtime ... and Hawk would have been whining about the dadgum dodobird who cost them the series.
If that had been the Bulls playing the Red Wings, they would have lost in overtime ... and conspiracy theorists would have opined that "of course, the NBA wanted the Red Wings to win."
If that had been the Bears playing the Red Wings, they would have lost in overtime ... and Jay Cutler would have shoved an offensive lineman after J.C.'s game-losing interception.
Thankfully, the Blackhawks were the Chicago team playing the Red Wings.
They weren't happy that a bad offsetting-penalty call nullified Niklas Hjalmarsson's apparent game-winning goal with less than 2 minutes left in regulation. But they quickly got over the disappointment, regrouped during the break before overtime and won it on Brent Seabrook's goal early in OT.
Blackhawks captain Jonathan Toews, who is trying to lead his squad to a second Stanley Cup championship in four years, rallied the team after regulation, reminding his mates that the refs hadn't cost the Hawks the series. The Blackhawks, he said, still controlled their own destiny.
"Keep working," Toews said. "We were not going to go away that way."
Yes, it sucks to be victimized by a bad call. But every game in every sport includes hundreds of good plays and bad plays by both teams, good moves and bad moves by both coaches and good calls and bad calls by the officials. It's especially pathetic when a team caves after a bad call or an unfortunate bounce that doesn't even end the season -- yes, I'm talking to you, 1985 Cardinals, 1986 Red Sox and 2003 Cubs.
Many people forget that even after Don Denkinger's screw-up, Bill Buckner's blunder and Steve Bartman's foul play, the Cards, Sox and Cubs still had a chance to prevail. Each memorable moment came in a Game 6 and only tied the series. Instead, St. Louis, Boston and Chicago shrunk from the challenge and folded in Game 7. To this day, fans of those teams blame Denkinger, Buckner and Bartman.
If only those teams -- if only ALL teams -- took fate into their own hands, held themselves accountable and got the job done.
You know, just as Toews and the Blackhawks did.
^
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