Baseball can bring out the best in me; it can also bring out the worst.
Today, I’m focusing a bit more on the worst – particularly, my tendencies to be a bit hyper-critical of others. But it’s who I am, I’m working on getting better about it, and part of working on it is talking about it.
Your team, like mine, has jersey numbers that are considered basically untouchable. In Seattle, while they aren’t retired yet, the numbers 11 and 24 are more or less off-limits. Worn by Edgar Martinez and Ken Griffey, Jr., respectively, it’s pretty safe to say no Mariner will wear those again, at least not without special dispensation from the previous owners.
51 is also in the class of the untouchables; some thought only Randy Johnson would wear it, but after Ichiro came east and asked permission of the Big Unit, he has since made the number that much more cherished.
Now in Seattle, as I’m sure is the case in lots of other cities, you can get a Major League jersey customized with your own name and whatever number you like on it. Now as long as your selection falls within MLB’s guidelines for taste, you’re pretty much good to go.
They also have some rules about using a current or former player’s name and number on the jersey of another team. Heaven forbid we confuse anybody with an “Ichiro 51” Reds jersey.
Nevertheless, as I’m walking around the stadium tonight prior to the game, I see what I always see at least once a game – somebody rocking their name with one of the aforementioned untouchable numbers.
Nothing says cool like “Jones 51” or “Marshall 11.”
Here’s where I don’t care that it was your favorite number, or that you got it as a gift, or anything. Part of being a fan is respecting the players who made the numbers so cool in the first place and leaving them be.
If anything, it’s disappointing to me that a so-called baseball fan would do that. I’m all for having a jersey, and as much as I wouldn’t do it myself, I’m even OK with wearing the jersey of your favorite player. But for the love of the game, don’t pretend that you can co-op someone else’s number!
Now look – before you get all uppity with me about this, I get that you may have had the jersey before that player got here. But most of you didn’t. You just went to the store thinking you could get away with wearing someone else’s jersey, hoping that the guy at the counter would say anything. Now you think you’re hot because you’re sporting one the most revered numbers in the city.
Which leads me to the following statement – which prior to tonight I had never felt so definitive about: it’s time to get rid of names on jerseys.
Think about a Yankees jersey with a 3 on the back of it. You know it’s only about one guy. No one’s going to put “MacFarlane” on the back of that one.
Let’s get rid of the names on jerseys – between the graphics on TV and the widespread availability of programs at stadiums, rosters on the internet, and lots of stadiums having scoreboards that tell you who is on the field and where they’re playing, in addition to what number they’re wearing, it’s time to move on.
Take the names off the jerseys.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Josh Hamilton, Latrell Spreewell, Mariners, Shawn Chacon
I don’t know. I’ve been my usual busy self; maybe having the Mariners out of town on a 9-game, 11-day road trip has something to do with it. Out of sight, out of mind?
Not really – but I have been finding it harder to pay attention to what the team does when they’re on the road, especially when they’re playing in the early evening, which is usually when I have other things going on.
Suffice to say that this hasn’t really been a season that commands attention — as of 6/27 the Mariners are the only team without 30 wins, are the only team with 50 losses and seem to be gearing up for a major overhaul from (almost) the top to bottom. I hope it will be a fun and engaging process to watch and be somewhat close to; kind of like ripping up your lawn and flower beds and starting all over with the intent to produce the majority of your own fruits and vegetables.
There’s a few things on the horizon – instant replay and a decision on maple bats – that will have an interesting impact on the game. If maple bats are banned, it will be interesting to see how offense is affected. Still looking for the impacts on steroids on the record books and league averages, the potential eradication of maple will add another variable to this discussion.
Instant replay is a whole different story – and one that will have a much greater impact on the game. I’m looking forward to seeing a collection of all the great plays and calls that would have been subject to replay had it been available. That could make for some good watchin’.
The whole Shawn Chacon thing is disgraceful — but I wonder if some other team will pick him up. The question of morality and off-field (albeit in the clubhouse) actions affecting on-field time is an age-old one; I would venture to guess that someone will sign him, quietly, to a minor-league deal so that he can get his issues worked out. Wife beaters, crackheads, steroid users and numerous other “criminals” have been allowed to play the game; we’ve clearly shown that past actions are no barrier to future participation (see Josh Hamilton and Latrell Spreewell).
Which brings up a thought – how much does one league look to another for guidance when it comes to things like this? Will someone from MLB call up the NBA discplinary office and see how they handled the Spreewell case?
It is nice to finally have a taste of summer up here in the Pacific Northwest, and while I’m glad to be back out on the field with my adult-league team, it stinks being 0-3 and carrying a .200 average isn’t really what I was hoping for. But it is mostly fun, and at least we’ll be hitting wood bats tomorrow instead of the metal. Let me tell you – I feel bad for every catcher and umpire that is involved in an aluminum bat game; your ears almost ring at the end of it, which is just another occupational hazard of being behind the plate.
Too bad we’re playing on a turf field with no fences. Oh well, can’t have everything.
If you have a minute, pop over to my other blog, the Baseball Book Review. I’ve got a couple new posts up there, including Chris Coste’s The 33-Year-Old Rookie and Nicholas Dawidoff’s The Crowd Sounds Happy.
With that, I’m going to finish reading the newspaper and catch some sunshine while it lasts.
Filed under: Uncategorized
The Washington Nationals have declared that their male fans have to leave their shirts on, otherwise it’s a form of indecent exposure. Read the article not just for the story but for a well-written piece of work.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Erik Bedard, ESPN The Magazine, Randy Johnson, the Big Unit
Let me start by saying that as I write this from the press box of Safeco Field, my hands and ears are absolutely freezing cold. It’s June 18 and I’m on the verge of putting on my woll jacket. I wish I had some of those little hand warmers and a thick beanie. It is flipping cold, and the Mariners are losing 5-1 to the Marlins in the middle of the 4th inning.
I just looked around and realized I’m one of the only folks in here not wearing a jacket. I have a feeling that will change before I finish this post. Just a little scene-set so you can understand where I’m at.
If you haven’t had a chance to read the 6/16/08 issue of ESPN The Magazine yet, I suggest you do. The reason why is Randy Johnson’s column on page 16, in which he talks about his recent change in game day attitude and approach to the game.
Being from Seattle where Johnson spent over eight seasons of his career, and being part of the media, I’ve heard the stories about how locked in and focused Johnson was on game days, even the day before. While he didn’t earn a reputation of being unfriendly to the media after starts (a la Erik Bedard, also featured in The Mag), he did have a way of bulldozing right past you on game days.
But as you’ll read, at age 44 he’s recentlyl had a change of approach. He’s living with a newfound love of the game which has made him appreciate all over again what he’s doing and the gifts he’s been blessed with.
As I reached a bit of a milestone birthday this year, and as some forks in the road of life are approaching quickly, it was a particularly engaging article. I’m not 100% sure why, but it’s always refreshing to hear the human experience of those who are able to perform superhuman feats.
BTW, now 7-2 Marlins, top of the 6th, and the jacket is going on as soon as I post this.
Filed under: Uncategorized
What drives me nuts about baseball is the fine line that it sits on between the right-brained stories, legends and tales, and the left-brained stats, numbers, and analysis. At times they are both on your side, at times neither is on your side. And seemingly more often than not, the part that you’d like on your side isn’t there.
Which is what struck me today as kind of where I’m at in life. I want the freedom to come and go as I please, but I need the structure of deadlines, appointments and such.
I want the demand of having to look nice – I won’t go so far as to say I want to wear a uniform – but I also want the ability to have it be a bit flexible to my standards. Think high pants vs. low pants, baggies vs. fitted, long sleeves vs. short, etc. Players all have to wear a uniform that falls within certain guidelines but does allow for a good amount of wiggle room to allow for one’s own preferences.
I like living in the mindset that there doesn’t have to be a time clock – that something can be as long or as short as it needs to be. Yet I also like the idea that what goes on is measured – rigidly – and records are kept and shared.
Right now I’m in a bit too much of a left brain world, where schedules are a bit too rigid for my liking. That’s compounded by the fact that a lot of my co-workers are in the right brain world, thanks to some developments that have freed their schedules up considerably.
Some people say baseball is a metaphor for life; others say life is a metaphor for baseball. It’s funny how a short walk can help draw the parallels between the two, regardless of how you look at it.
Filed under: Uncategorized
I got a good read out of this article by Ryan Fagan in the May 19th Sporting News. Not only does it give you a good insight into the scrutinizing world of being a highly recruited high school athlete, it might just put this in your head.
I’m sure that a lot of us wish we were born with the kind of talent that Tim Melville has been blessed with – the kind of talent that folks covet so highly that they’ll drive for hours to see and pay millions of dollars to acquire.
Melville was taken with the 115th overall pick by the Kansas City Royals – the 3rd pick of the 4th round – and as of this writing has yet to sign with the club. Surely an interesting dilemma — I’m sure he’s being offered decent money, but he’s also given a commitment to the University of North Carolina, an outstanding school and baseball program.
The debate has been ongoing for several years as to whether a kid should go to college or take the money and sign professionally. It’s fair to say that both the largest signing bonus and the best college education can be wasted; likewise both could be invested and reap great rewards.
It would be incredibly tough for me to tell an 18-year-old kid who is sitting with a large signing bonus check in front of him not to take it. Could I name what the amount would be for him not to take it? Not really. It would have to be fairly life-changing, and he’d had to be pretty disciplined not to spend it all on something that won’t last. I’d also think that he’d have to be committed to giving college a shot when his playing days were over, which I know can be a tall order to expect someone to be a college freshman when they’re in their 20s or 30s.
Otherwise, I would give college a very strong recommendation, and here’s why. You don’t have to really think about the draft for three years. Sure it’ll be in the back of your mind, but it won’t be front and center, giving you time to grow and develop somewhat out of the spotlight and pressure. You’re generally in a system dedicated to your growth and development. Collegiate programs generally have a reason to see you succeed – both in the classroom and on the diamond. Plus, if you can get a good scholarship, that can be worth just as much if not more as a signing bonus, plus if you invest in yourself and your studies, it will bear interest for the rest of your life.
It’s a decision I wish I had to make based on talent I wish I had. What would you do if you were faced with the decision? Go to school or go pro? What would be your threshold? And what would you say to someone if they asked you for advice?
I’ve had this article from the New York Times in my to-comment-on pile for a couple days, and I figured I might as well just do so. Then I saw another broken bat fly into the stands during a game at Safeco Field tonight and it became even more important to at least further the discussion.
As I see it – there are a couple of options that are out there once the appropriate research is conducted and as it pertains to fan safety:
1) Ban maple bats altogether. Just say they’re too dangerous and that it wouldn’t be possible to effectively monitor manufacturing standards and provide enough quality control.
2) Extend the nets down the lines farther, and possible even higher up behind home plate. Granted this wouldn’t necessarily help the players, coaches and umpires on the field, but hey, someone’s got to take a risk, right?
3) Require some kind of standards for the bats – handle size, weight, etc., as well as holding manufacturers more accountable for the quality of their work.
4) Do nothing.
I’m kind of inclined to go with #4, at least until someone gets seriously injured or killed. I know that sounds harsh, but that’s kind of the way things go. By going to a game, you’re assuming a certain amount of risk and willing to release the league and the clubs from any harm caused. Don’t believe me? Read the back of your ticket stub sometime.
It seems like it will take something tragic happening before the rules are changed. Even then, it will take a bit of work to get the players to agree to the changes, plus the manufacturers will certainly lodge some sort of protest, if nothing less because they have to buy their wood supplies fairly far in advance and don’t want to be left sitting on a bunch of maple that is now declared useless by MLB.
Plus the players — I can almost hear the cries of “you took away our steroids and HGH, now our maple, too?!?”
I am joking about that, at least a little, but there is some truth to it. There will undoubtedly be some griping about players not being able to use the bat of choice for the past decade or so. Don’t believe me? Take a look at this article.
So with that – what do you do with the maple bat issue? Would you extend the nets? Ban the potential death sticks? Or sit on your hands and do nothing? Speak up!
Today the Mariners fired their General Manager, Bill Bavasi. To some, it wasn’t a surprise; the worst record in the majors combined with several losing seasons under his watch, a bevy of transactions that seem to have gone almost all against our favor certainly and finally a sweep at Safeco Field by the last-place seemed to indicate that change was coming.
On the other hand, some argued that the wheels of change in the Mariners organization, particularly at the upper levels turn so slow that it would be some time before we saw a new nameplate on the GM’s office.
Nevertheless, the change was made, and what makes me write is the public’s reaction. I understand that sports fans are passionate about their teams – I would count myself among that group. But what struck me is what goes on in people’s heads when they process news like this.
It seemed that a lot of reaction I was hearing and reading seemed overwhelmingly positive that the Mariners had let Mr. Bavasi go — and understandably so. But what concerns me was how much of it seemed to be genuine excitement for the organization moving in a different – and hopefully more successful – direction, and how much of it seemed to be some kind of vindication for them that someone lost his job.
Sure, Mr. Bavasi didn’t leave the Mariners in better shape than he found them – and when a permanent General Manager is named, he’ll probably have a substantial amount of work ahead of him.
I’m not asking that we hold Mr. Bavasi in higher esteem than is deserved – just that we as collective fans and followers of the Mariners remember that he is still a human being, and as most people who interacted with him would tell you, a fairly decent one at that.
I think that a lot of times we don’t take time to consider the lives of those who live theirs in the public eye. Most people who are celebrities have become as such because their talents have reaped them a tremendous amount of benefits. We don’t associate with them because most times we simply can’t understand or relate to the lifestyles they are able to lead.
But not everyone who lives in the public eye is so rich that they are able to be self-sufficient; undoubtedly Mr. Bavasi will have to go look for another job, and while it probably will be something that has a substantial salary, it still doesn’t mean that it’s any less impactful.
It’s still the loss of a job, and more importantly a very public admission that you weren’t able to do a job that you were hired to do. Hopefully we all take pride in our work – it can be hard enough when you lose a job without it appearing in the papers and on TV; I can only imagine what it must feel like to not only have it broadcast but to have people celebrating it.
This may be a stretch – but I think that as we see people in the public eye, we tend to forget that they are more or less just like us. Sure there may be lots of differences – but the core more or less remains the same.
So keep that in mind as you hold your Bavasi-has-been-fired parties and tell your friends how your day has suddenly become so much better now that you’ve heard the news. Just temper those feelings – that’s all I’m asking.
Even though they’ve been around for almost a century, it still amazes me how much power the bobblehead has to draw people to the ballpark.
Once again the Mariners had a bobblehead night yesterday – and once again there were crowds of people lined up at the gates well before they opened. And once again there are lots of listings for those bobbleheads on eBay. And once again I saw people walking back to their cars with multiple bobbleheads, seemingly hoarding these little statues for some reason beyond me.
Would someone please explain what you do with these bobbleheads? Why the fascination? Why the obsession?
Do you sell them, hoping to make a little bit of money? Do you give them to sick children in hospitals, bringing a bit of sunshine to someone who couldn’t go to a ballgame? Or do you just like them sitting on your desk or on a shelf?
I’m sure there are a multitude of answers – and I want to know what they are. Tell me why you are so fascinated – or not so fascinated – by the bobblehead.
Filed under: Uncategorized
I’m going to preface this post by saying that I’m in a funk right now — a dirty, stinky, nasty funk that is a combination of an absolutely miserable Mariners season, a situation at work that I’m not at liberty to discuss, and what I have to attribute to some weird cosmic junk going on that’s just leaving me in a mess; or maybe it’s with a mess. Not sure – not important.
This was in the paper the other day – I’m not going to sugar coat my response. Metal bats are money making pieces of junk (I edited my original word) that have been sold on the fact that they don’t break as often as wood and they give more people hits than should be getting them. The result? The story I linked to. Kids are getting hurt, lawsuits are getting filed, and people like me are sitting here in a funk writing about it.
Look – it’s no secret that metal bats – both softball and baseball – make their respective companies a lot of money. They also reward bad swings and poor pitch selection with basehits and .500 averages in high school. Plus they sound like absolute hell. I swear to God – hell is the sound of 100 teams taking batting practice with metal bats.
Now look – I will fully admit that I own and use a metal bat in the adult league I play in. Why? Because I’d be stupid not to. It would be a disservice to my team if I went out there hitting wood and thinking there’s a little halo above my head while I stick up for the way baseball should be played. I know I’m not that good in the grand scheme of things, and I’m not going to sacrifice a base hit just so I can be some kind of martyr for the cause of the wood bat at the plate.
But back to the point – what really irks me about the whole metal bat issue is that it all stems from our desire to score more runs and see more offense, even if it comes at the expense of a pitcher. We are so lustful for the homerun that we’ll juice up our bodies and our bats, which in turn results in 100+ mph shots coming back at some 10 year old on the mound who wants to be Pedro or C.C. or Roy or Felix. This is the one chance I would actually tell my kid (if I had one, which I don’t) – be a catcher instead of a pitcher. At least you get some protection. I’m glad I have my helmet and gear when I play – I feel bad for my teammate standing sixty feet away from me who is right in the line of fire of some dude with a $400 piece of aluminum and composite nanotube whatever in his hands.
Alright – enough on that noise.
Is it time for Fall League yet? Apparently not, even though the weather in Seattle would lead you to think otherwise. I’m convinced that whoever is overseeing the Mariners is overseeing the weather – or vice versa – because they both stink right now. It’s the first week of June and the Mariners are colder than the 54 degree game time temperature we had the other day. What a way to spend a season – freezing your butt off watching a bad team play bad baseball. Sign me up.
Enough with all this talk about the Cubs. Look- they’re playing good baseball and have a great record. Yes, I know it’s the 100th anniversary of their last World Series victory. What a story — woo-hoo and all that. But seriously folks, let’s put the car back in the proper gear…as Mr. Vecsey reminds us, it’s only June. At least you have something to cheer about though, Cubbies fans. Seems like Mariners fans are cheering for some players to be traded/cut/DFA’d/locked in the clubhouse and set on fire.
I watched the draft today (you’re welcome, ESPN2) and silently mourned that I didn’t play baseball as a little kid. To be 18, or 21, and to have your name called as one of the most desirable players in the country at that particular moment in time must be quite an amazing thing to experience. Congrats to all those who were drafted today.
I will also say – I hope that those of you who have the chance to make lots of money through baseball, do it. For those that have the opportunity to go to a great college because of baseball – do that. Get that education, enjoy those times, and know that baseball will be there for you if you commit the time to it while in school. While it excites me to see a young man fresh out of high school taken as the first pick, I also commend those who went to college and did their thing.
Likewise, I watched a thing the Mariners sent out about the players’ memories of their dads while growing up. My father chose not to be part of my picture – which always makes Father’s Day a bit of a touchy subject for me. But I do wish all the good dads out there a happy day, especially the good dads in my family – particularly my two uncles.
Get your eBay on — have dinner with Daisuke. I refuse to spell it Dice-K.
By the way – I saw the Sex and the City movie last weekend. Can’t say I’m glad I did.
If this story doesn’t make you really stop and rethink this whole rivalry thing, than you might want to call a timeout for yourself. I get it that Yankees and Red Sox fans aren’t fond of each other – and that’s cool, to and extent of course. They are two great ballclubs and franchises – so I have no problem with a bit of a heated rivalry. But folks – seriously! You aren’t on the team. You’re a fan. While fans are important, it’s not worth taking each other’s lives. As much as I love baseball, and as much as I let baseball consume my life, I don’t let it consume me to the point where I’d do something stupid like that. It’s baseball – but it’s only baseball. Settle down.
If you haven’t heard of the Larry Craig bobblefoot giveaway at a recent St. Paul Saints game, I suggest you Google it. Then buy me one on eBay.
That appears to be it for now. I’m fighting my craving for McDonald’s…what can I say, I saw Supersize Me and I can’t go back.
On a closing note, I really wish I could have faith in my Mariners, but I just can’t bring myself to it. I may have to invoke the right to root for a non-divisional, non-league team, simply so I can have someone to cheer for. In that case, I am leaning towards the Arizona Diamondbacks. They’re young and scrappy, and I’m happy that Bob Melvin won the NL Manager of the Year award in 2007. He got hosed in Seattle – so I’m happy he’s getting his due in the desert. Plus, I have family in Scottsdale, and I think it would be a blast to see the postseason in Phoenix, and I fully expect to be the one supplying tickets for the event.
After seeing the NLDS and World Series in Colorado, where I truly rooted for no one, I would like to have someone to root for this fall. And while I immensely enjoy the taste of a fresh, cold Coors upon entering Coors Field, the Rockies appear to be in the same boat as the Mariners, which means neither of us will be on the field come the tenth month.
Did I mention how much I enjoy Rocky Mountain Oysters? Sorry for the tangent, but I feel compelled to mention their goodness. I enjoy simple things in life – and while I wouldn’t describe R.M.O.’s as simple, there is something pretty great about watching a ballgame with a plate of R.M.O.’s in your lap and a cold Coors original (no Coors Light here, thank you very much) in the cupholder. Even my non-drinking girlfriend can attest to the wonderfulness that is a draft Coors consumed on a warm day in Denver.
And Coors Field has what could be described as a bass-ackward concession line – order, then go to a line to pay. Kind of cafeteria style, kind of separation of church and state. But it works.
Now it’s time to wrap this party up — I’ve emptied my shoulder bag of the articles I’ve been meaning to read and comment about, and find that I’m left with a couple magazines that I’m not in the state to give the attention to that they deserve. They shall have to wait -
At least the Mariners didn’t lose today, which if nothing less is a slight victory for my mental state. But they are in Boston, who by the way made my night with a brawl with the Tampa Bay Rays, It could be a long weekend for my beloved Mariners.
And now that I have surpassed 1500 words, I’m saving, posting, and going to bed. Toodaloo.
