Ben Weasel request!

I remember a few years ago, Chinmusic printed an excellent and hilarious column by Ben Weasel about why he hated Field of Dreams. If that is still floating on someone's hard drive, it is worth a repost in the comment section!

Jeff Gray

Boston Globe writer Gordon Edes posted a column today (interestingly enough, entitled Chin Music) in which he defends his comparison of Jonathan Papelbon to Boston's rookie closer in 1986, Calvin Schiraldi. His comparisons are fair enough, but who Papelbon reminds me of most is one of my favorite Sox pitchers when I was a kid: Jeff Gray. Like Papelbon, Gray had great command of his entire repertoire, a stoic, confident demeanor, unwavering composure in pressure situations, and--despite being a considerable amount slighter in size than Papelbon--a surprising amount of pop on his fastball. And, like Papelbon, Gray had endurance--every game Gray entered, he appeared as though he were throwing at no less than 100 percent.

The 1991 Boston Red Sox Yearbook--published back when team yearbooks actually had editorial content, and not just ads and player headshots--contained one of my favorite baseball articles. Entitled "Pitching In," the piece was a rare tribute to the talents of the less-than-marquee pitchers who helped the Sox capture the 1990 pennant: Gray, Tom Bolton, Greg Harris (the ambidextrous pitcher who wore a custom glove that could be worn on either hand), and Dana Kiecker (one of the nicest players I ever met). The article suggests that even during his brief stay in the major leagues, Gray was an anonymous figure, despite his impressive accomplishments.

After appearing in only five games for the 1988 Reds and cast aside from the Philly minor league system in late '89, Gray was picked up by Boston and called up from Triple-A Pawtucket in June 1990. After slumping badly throughout the month of July (mainly due to a ribcage strain), Gray stepped up for the ailing Sox. Right in the thick of the neck-and-neck pennant race with Toronto and with closer Jeff Reardon on the disabled list, Gray picked up six saves in seven chances with an 0.60 ERA during the month of August. Two of the saves were during the crucial Toronto series in which he allowed no runs, no hits, and recorded four strikeouts. At one point he recorded 14 2/3 consecutive scoreless innings, and was seven-for-seven in save chances between August 19 and September 12, when Reardon rejoined the roster. Gray wrapped up his rookie campaign with a respectable 4.44 ERA, and posted a 2.70 ERA in two brief appearances in the ALCS against Oakland.

Gray's late-season surge carried over into 1991. Emerging as the solid rock in the Sox' relief corps, he appeared in 50 of Boston's first 97 games, posting a tidy 2.34 ERA (more than two runs lower than the 1991 league average) and allowing only 10 walks, 39 hits, and 16 earned runs in 61 2/3 innings pitched.

During Boston's late July slump (which probably cost them the 1991 Eastern Division title), Gray pitched in two otherwise meaningless games during a three-game sweep at the hands of the White Sox. On July 27, he threw 2/3 of an inning in a 10-8 thumping of Roger Clemens, allowing one run on one hit, before allowing another run during one inning pitched the following day (also making an appearance that day, for Chicago, was a young Scott Radinsky, of Scared Straight, Ten Foot Pole, and Pulley fame).

Sadly, that forgettable inning pitched against Chicago on July 28, 1991, was Gray's last. Prior to Boston's game against Texas on July 30, Gray collapsed in the Red Sox clubhouse. He became lightheaded and weak, his speech slurred, and he lost sensation in the right side of his body (and yes, he was a right-hander). Diagnosed as suffering from a stroke--oddly enough, on the 11th anniversary of the stroke of the legendary J.R. Richard--Gray spent two years in physical rehab attempting a comeback before becoming a pitching coach in 1994. The Sox made a run for the divisional crown in 1991, finishing in second place behind Toronto, but it is interesting to speculate what the effect would have been had Gray's health sustained--on the outcome of the '91 season, and on his place in the history books.

Jerry Coleman

This link is to a mighty funny collection of what San Diegans know familiarly as "Colemanisms." Hall-of-Fame Padres announcer Jerry Coleman, ex-Yankee second baseman and WWII colonel, has been announcing Padres games since 1970. This is a collection of his absent-mindedly hilarious gaffes, malaprops and spoonerisms.
Enjoy!
http://www.funny2.com/coleman.htm

Wiffle Ball

I'll bet I'm not the only person here who will be playing some wiffle ball on Easter. I'll also bet that I'm not the only one who's had some wiffle ball games turn out like this. Enjoy!

The John Oates/Andrew Ridgely/Jim Messina connection

As a small corollary to Jackson's excellent post I feel an obvious point must be acknowledged. As with all instances involving the media (ANY media) and circumstances involving black people, when left to stew a few days and gather steam, the ugly head of racism inevtibaly rises. In some cases it can be a baseless assumption, but more often than not a shred of it holds truths which the majority of us try to ignore.

Many parties truly do have it in for Barry Bonds, and his "assault of Ruth's record," as has been stated daily on the ESPN baseball site and in newspapers around the country. The baseball media definitely has a grudge against the superstar player that won't give them what they want and how they want it; a man who refuses to DAILY answer the same questions asked non-stop. Though the questions have changed over the years ("What about your relationship with Leyland," "How is the knee"..."Did you take steroids"...) the constant barrage must seem Groundhog Day-like to Bonds.

But the point not to overlook in gauging a basis for racism is in the dissection of the term "assault on Ruth." Not only does this stoke the "Whitey fear" by implying that the big black evil man is going to "hurt the Babe," but that to a large amount of the country, it is Ruth that still has the record. The great Hank Aaron is a footnote in most articles, as people revere the second-place finisher as the icon who is being defiled. Nevermind that this icon was a crude womanizing gonnorheac side-show of gourmandism, he could whack that tater better than almost anyone in the history of the game. Does it matter that, as referenced, homers were a different animal in his day? He was often so tanked or hung over that he didn't even have to run out his dingers.

But back to the crux of my whining rant. In what other situation has the man gunning for second-best been so studied and vilified? Did the press get up in arms when the reprehensible Ty Cobb moved past Honus Wagner to claim second on the all-time list for most triples? How much ballyhoo was raised when Rickey Henderson walked past the Babe for #2 on the bases-on-balls list? How about when the "Big Train" Walter Johnson blew past Christy "Minstrel" Mathewson on the all-time strikeout tally?

Perhaps my perspective is skewed, as I live in San Francisco and am subjected to a graphic of the pug-faced Babe every goddamn day. But I do believe that this not-too-subtle implication of domesday scenario for the innocence of the pastime is not only injust, but carries an underlying tone of "our white heroes are being taken from us."

Great Sports Journalism vs. Mediocre, and Why I Really Hate Bonds

For whatever reason, ESPN's "Page 2" has recently made it impossible to view their former columnists' archives. This is a shame, considering that for a time they harbored two truly great journalists: Hunter S. Thompson and David Halberstam. Though Thompson's columns degenerated from "sports writing" to merely detailing the wonderful world of compulsive gambling, his style was familiar, and engaging enough to hold one's interest--even if you didn't really give a damn about what he was ranting (and I am not a fan of gambling or Thompson's second-favorite interest, football).

Halberstam's lucid columns reflect upon a lifetime of experience, without arrogance. He speaks directly to his reader, gets to the crux of his topic without an excess of metaphor or a trace of hyperbole. He respects his readers and the games he writes about--he understands that baseball is greater and more enduring than the players who come and go. This, and not some conservative moralism, is evidently the foundation for his frustration with the decadence and arrogance of the prima donna ballplayer--above all, Barry Bonds. Halberstam holds my highest esteem as a journalist.

In contrast, new-ish Page 2 columnist Chuck Klosterman recently wrote an article called "The Breaking Point" (here), a long-winded, dull, hyperbolic account about the "greater meaning" of Bonds' impact on the game of baseball, American society, and history. (At least Klosterman's Spin magazine column is relegated to a two-page spread--someone at ESPN needs to reign this guy in.)

First of all, this lousy article is filled with exaggeration. Klosterman makes a list of "Five Problems" created by Bonds, beginning with "The end of numbers -- in the only realm where numbers matter," which includes this gem:

"Because steroids make the values of all modern statistics confusing and incomparable, they also diminish the two things baseball had going for it: history and math. Everything that's happened in major league baseball since approximately 1995 is now potentially useless, which ultimately means that everything since '95 is completely useless. And this will continue to have an effect in the future, even if steroids and human growth hormone are completely eliminated from the game."

Okay. The only reason anyone would make such a lofty statement is because steroids affected the grandest, sexiest of all statistics: the Home Run. If steroids affected stolen bases or outfield assists (or even batting averages) the same way they affect home runs, no one would really care that much (not to mention, people seem to be overlooking that steroids inadvertently helped Bonds shatter the bases on balls record--I mean, steroids made him that much better, that much more intimidating, and therefore, he was pitched around a hell of a lot more. A guy who hits 35 homers in a season does not get walked 200 times).

Back to my original point--Klosterman basically states that the last 12 years of statistics have been rendered irrelavent. Oh really? Why then are we letting cheaters from the previous 80 years off the hook? Norm Cash won the 1961 AL batting title with a corked bat. Whitey Ford, notorious for cutting and greasing baseballs, made the Hall of Fame with 236 wins. Red Faber made the Hall with 254 wins throwing a legal spitball--and Gaylord Perry won 314 games and earned a place in the Hall throwing an illegal trademark spitball (but we laugh him off as an eccentric character, and celebrate him). Tim Raines stole 90 bases in 1983 while jacked up on enough coke to make Mo Vaughn fleet of foot.

Anyone who inflates their already gifted talents by cheating sucks. But baseball is greater than they are, and no amount of cheaters will ever render statistics or the sport itself irrelevant--nor will hack sportswriters who overstep their boundaries of expertise.

My second major complaint about Klosterman's article is his second "problem" created by Bonds: "We were all fools and now we have to pretend we weren't":

"[Bonds'] cheating seems stupidly obvious. But nobody seemed to perceive this obviousness until we had no other choice... Because we ignored what now seems obvious about McGwire and dozens of other hitters in the late '90s -- we will have to retrospectively reinvent how those experiences felt. Barry Bonds will force people to change their recent memories so they correspond with a new frame of reference, which is how historical revisionism generally occurs."

Wait--"nobody" perceived this? Klosterman has a way with words--he writes so eloquently, and is ostensibly so intelligent, I almost believed that statement. But the fact of the matter is that only wonderfully naive children, Bud Selig, and complete idiots didn't observe (or didn't want to admit) that Bonds, McGwire, et al were not getting their inhuman muscle mass from Flintstone's vitamins. There are some brilliant sportswriters, and there are awful sportswriters, but the fact of the matter is that too many sportswriters are out solely to create stories that are sensational--they built up McGwire and Bonds and Sosa at the appropriate time, and they tear them down later on at the appropriate time. In between, they fill in the gaps with hum-drum game coverage, 1986 Mets' arrest reports, and speculative tabloid journalism. The writers' pander to the public's increasing demand for shock and sensationalism, and expand the rift between the media and the players, who need no encouragement or further reasons to shun reporters.

Klosterman's column boasts a brief moment of profundity near the end ("[Bonds is] just compiling numbers we don't trust, and they are as colossal as they are meaningless. To care about these home runs is to care about nothing") before spiraling downward to perhaps the most unnerving, out-of-line, and arrogant conclusions I've ever read in a sports article--one that insinuates that Bonds and his steroid/HGH engulfing contemporaries have, perhaps, forever destroyed the very essence of the game. How dramatic.

But I am tired of talking about Klosterman. I would like to return to David Halberstam, and why everyone should read this artice from 2002:

Are You Having Fun Yet, Barry?

It took a little while, but after searching through Google I was able to dig up this no-longer-archived article. Here is an excerpt:

"Here's what [Bob] Gibson would have done the first time Barry Bonds took him deep, and then did his self-adoration look and then his home-run strut. He would have knocked Barry Bonds on his butt the next time up. (And if this had caused a fight, would anyone have run out of the Giants dugout to take up Barry's side? I think not.) The strut would be, in Gibson's book, disrespectful. Gibson is and was a man who cared a great deal about respect. The way Barry Bonds behaves would be more than a misdemeanor to Gibson, but rather a felony for showing the pitcher up. The ensuing knockdown would be done as a favor for the fans, for Gibson's teammates, for Bonds' Giants teammates, and most important of all, for Barry Bonds himself, who surely would be a better person after being singled out for such an honor."

His article holds more weight today than it did in 2002 for two reasons: it reminds us of what truly insightful journalism is, and it reminds us that even without steroids or the myriad of accusations by Mark Fainaru-Wada and Lance Williams, Bonds--"The Great Narcissist"--does not and never did deserve the respect and admiration of the fans.

Though my personal solution to this scar on the face of the game is easier said than done, I offer it to you all--ignore Bonds. Don't cheer him. Don't boo him. (And for god's sake, don't watch his damn reality show.) The records of Aaron and Ruth may fall one notch down in the record books, but this will not convolute the official statistics because it will not diminish anyone else's achievements, nor will it destroy the game or our history. Bonds is one man; there are 899 other active major leaguers who deserve our attention.

Whoops, i meant there are 869 other players who deserve our attention. Fuck the Yankees.

AL WEST Angels DEFINTELY in Jeopardy

Answer: a team which has won the AL west the last two years but their luck has run out for 2006.

Question: Who are the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim?

If you translate "the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim" it LITERALLY means:

"THE THE ANGELS ANGELS of ANAHEIM"

And the the Angels are in deep trouble, because the real A's showed up last night and beat the real Yankees in a great game, 4-3. Joe Torre made a managerial mistake. With the score tied 3-3 he put in Proctor to pitch the bottom of the 9th, figuring he would need Rivera in the 10th anyway. But Rivera didn't pitch on Monday night. The A's had put Stree in in the top of the 9th, Street even had a little interview in the corner box prerecorded saying, "I would love to pitch the 9th against Rivera going head to head in a tie game." That's what should have happened. To me that is the textbook situation where a closer has to go 2. Tie game in the 9th and your team is away. Instead the A's played Proctologist on Proctor. Torre pulled EXACTLY the same move in Game 4 of the 03 WS. With the Yankees up in the series 2-1 and the score tied in the bottom of the 9th, Rivera was in the bullpen when Alex Gonzalez sagavely lambasted a pitch from Jeff Weaver. The Yankees never won again in that series. In almost exactly the same situation last night, Torre did the same thing, and with the same result, Yankees Lose! YEEEEEHAAAAAW!