Category: Baseball

Baseball is returning to Washington, DC. As I mentioned, I’m excited about that and look forward to having big league baseball only a metro ride away. I’m not changing my allegiance, but I’m curious to know what the new team name will be. The obvious choice and initial majority opinion is to look to the past and re-christen the Expos the Washington Senators.

I disagree. Thinking about it Wednesday night as the initial suggestions began to trickle through during the wall-to-wall television news coverage of this story, I had a thought. I don’t mind the name “Senators” but don’t believe it should be the only name considered. Specifically, I do NOT want the inevitable name search among the fans to spiral into the disaster that is the fan-chosen Baltimore Ravens logo. So I was thinking the thought process should extend further into the past and look at the Negro Leagues for inspiration. The first commentary I read on the Expos impending move came from Michael Wilbon. In his column from yesterday, while noting that Senators seems to be the favorite, Mr. Wilbon offers the same alternative that I was thinking:

There might be only one very, very good alternative: Grays. Baseball, more than any other sport, sells nostalgia, from the retro ballparks that have popped up around the major leagues (and presumably will here, too, on the Anacostia waterfront) to throwback jerseys. And while there’s arguing against Senators or Nationals from a historic standpoint, the name Grays qualifies historically, and has perhaps a more romantic link to Washington’s baseball past.

The Senators, let’s face it, were losers. Big losers. The franchise was contracted by the National League in 1900, left town for Minneapolis in 1960, bolted town again, for Texas, in 1971. The Senators had 11 straight losing seasons to start their American League history in 1901, then lost at least 100 games in each of their first four seasons as an expansion team in the early 1960s. Where do you think “First in War, First in Peace, last in the American League” as a depiction of Washington came from?

Exactly. There is a winning baseball tradition in Washington, and it’s not the Senators. Renaming the Expos as the Grays, while a curious name, will represent a tradition of winning and of a tenacity to just play baseball, against the overwhelming odds. It will also honor the pre-integration history of black baseball players in a way that retiring Jackie Robinson’s #42 didn’t quite achieve (at least for me).

Consider:

The Grays won nine straight Negro National League pennants when the team played here, from the late 1930s until 1950.

Not only was it probably the greatest Negro League franchise of all, but with apologies to Satchel Paige and the Kansas City Monarchs, it was the most glamorous of all the Negro League teams and at its height featured Josh Gibson and Buck Leonard. And if your first inclination is that a 15-year-old kid has never heard of Josh Gibson, chances are you’re right . . . and he’s never heard of Frank Howard either. I remember Sam Lacy, the great sportswriter for the Afro-American newspapers, telling me that one season in the late 1930s or early ’40s, Gibson hit more home runs than the entire Senators lineup.
…
It’s not like the name Grays symbolizes anything bad to folks who aren’t black. The first person I heard lobby for Grays was ESPN anchor Dan Patrick. Laura Meissner, handing out pamphlets yesterday titled “Bring the Grays Back to Washington,” is a young white woman who is vice president of a group devoted to remembering the Grays. A team embracing Negro League history at its best might not work everywhere, but one would think it could work here, in the blackest city in America.

I think it would work here, so I vote for Grays. The team can wear the Senators uniforms as a Throwback weekend promotion.

Today is the 17th anniversary of the first Major League Baseball game I attended, an epic battle between the bottom-feeding Pittsburgh Pirates and the bottom-feeding Atlanta Braves. I was excited at the time because I finally saw Dale Murphy play in a game that counted. I’d seen him play in exhibition games in Richmond, but that wasn’t the real thing. So I was excited.

I was also excited to see Tom Glavine pitch that day. He’d made his major league debut on August 17th, a game he lost to Houston in the Astrodome. When the game started, I thought maybe, just maybe, he could win his first major league game, the very game I was attending. Nine innings later, Jim Acker threw the last pitch to finish off Glavine’s first win. That was cool.

With 258 additional wins since August 22, 1987, Tom Glavine is still pitching, putting the final touches on his Hall of Fame resum&#233. On the day he is inducted, I’ll tell the nearest snot-nosed, unappreciative kid who lacks a sense of history that I saw Glavine’s first win. That kid won’t care, but I’ll enjoy being the grumpy curmudgeon. I may even mumble. If I were that guy today, I’d probably mumble that I can’t believe it was 17 years ago.

John Kruk wrote a column for ESPN’s Page 2 in which he mentioned the main challenge for the Phillies:

The Phillies? They don’t rip anyone’s heart out. They never go for the jugular. As a result, they aren’t feared by anyone. So when they take the field against the Marlins, the Brewers or the Rockies — everyone thinks they have a chance to win.

I agree with that. As a Phillies phan, I’ve seen this in action over the last few years. The talent has been there, but the desire to do whatever it takes to win is non-existent in the Phillies.

In the spring of 2003, Bowa proposed using Abreu as his leadoff hitter. I’ve never been a huge Bowa fan, but I always felt that idea was brilliant. Abreu does everything a leadoff should do at the plate. He’s agressive but willing to work a count and take a walk. He hits for average and steals bases when he gets on. His power is a bonus for Abreu. His homers are more accident than effort because he’s a hitter, not a slugger.

Bowa knows this and realized that Abreu could set a great tone for the lineup. Abreu vetoed it because it would hurt his production. I don’t believe he was worried about his numbers, as much as he felt that he could be the impact guy to drive in runs for the team. That’s a great thought, which has validity, but what if there are no runners on because the 1 and 2 guys aren’t up to the task? Rollins has become a better leadoff hitter, but he still swings for the fences too much and isn’t patient when necessary.

The best contrast to the current Phillies team is Lenny Dykstra. The Dude could work a count at the beginning of a game to let the rest of the lineup see the pitcher’s repetoire. He forced the game to conform to his intention. Think back to the ’93 NLCS. He dominated that series against the more talented Braves. His team wasn’t supposed to be there, but he wanted it. When the game was on the line, he “went for the jugular”. And with Dykstra, the Phillies knew they were never out of a game.

The current version of the Phillies don’t have that and, until they get it, they won’t win according to the expectations of their talent.

Saturday afternoon, I attended my 11-year-old brother’s baseball game. Few people knew at the time, but the first base umpire experienced chest pains during the game. He chose to continue in spite of the pain. In the bottom of the second inning, he had a heart attack.

I did not see him collapse. I’d walked away from my seat for a few moments, since my brother had already batted in the top of the second. I walked no more than 15 feet to join my mom in conversation. Looking back at the field, I noticed the umpire on the ground. At the same time, the coaches were beginning to recognize the situation. Several people rushed to his side and immediately realized the grave nature of his condition. Frantic attempts to reach 911 began. One parent in the crowd is a cardiac nurse, so she ran to his aide. Everyone else stood, dazed and frozen.

Not being near him, the rest of the crowd didn’t know what was happening. Within moments, the nurse began CPR on him.

One of the parents and I ran to the field. As he raced to the umpire’s side to help, I gathered the remaining kids still on the field and instructed them to go to the dugout. A few walked slowly, still gazing in mortified curiosity. I turned them toward the dugout and ordered them to go. I followed behind them. Once they were in, I blocked the entrance to the field. Later, when the ambulance arrived, some of the kids wanted to look and started for the dugout exit. I blocked their exit.

I don’t tell this story to gain admiration. I don’t have CPR skills, so I was no direct help to the umpire. I regret my one failure to act. I had the notion that we should get the kids out of the dugout and away from the scene. They didn’t need to see what was happening, but I didn’t act quickly enough and those kids saw what they didn’t need to see. My brother was one of those kids, so that regret will linger with me.

I tell this story because I want to highlight something wonderful. In the midst of tragedy, regular people stepped up to help a man in trouble. No one overstepped their skills because a man’s life was involved, but everyone did what they could to give him his best chance to live. No one wasted time delegating authority. No one asked permission to help. People saw a need and did what was necessary. Even when some in the crowd exhibited callous behavior during the crisis, the greater will stopped it with a stern look of intent.

Before the paramedics could take him from the field to a hospital, he died.

…

I’ve accepted the reality that I watched a man die. Though the change is small, I will never be the same.

After an unexpected break in the action, I now return you to my regularly scheduled outrage. Thank you for being patient.

———————————–

This news article from ESPN.com disturbs me. I’ve written about my love of baseball. Enough so that I suspect everyone can decipher how I’m going to feel about this prospect: (I’m a level-headed person, so I’m not reacting just to react. Seriously. Stop laughing.)

As part of a marketing alliance between Major League Baseball Properties, Columbia Pictures and Marvel Studios, webbed logos of the upcoming film “Spider-Man 2” will appear on bases and on-deck circles in 15 stadiums of teams playing host to interleague games June 11-13.

I enjoyed Spider-Man. I’ve seen previews of Spider-Man 2 and I’m sure I’m going to enjoy it. However, I’ve also been to baseball games and I know I enjoy that without advertisements on the bases.

There are ads all around stadiums. Stadium names are ads. Every empty space in the stadium has a logo slapped on it. There are even ads on the outfield walls. It’s no secret that sports fans are saturated with information overload to the point of ignoring the advertising. That doesn’t mean Major League Baseball should inundate us with more logos so that we “participate” as consumers.

The announcement Wednesday comes a day after presidential candidate Ralph Nader called the placement of Ricoh logos on the uniform and helmets of players during the season-opening series between the Yankees and Devil Rays in Tokyo “a greedy new low.”

I thought the same thing when I watched the season-opening series from Tokyo. I didn’t wake up at 5am to see logos on the players’ uniforms. I don’t want to see logos when I watch Jim Thome touch second base on a home run trot. Major League Baseabll isn’t Nascar. There has to be some sanctity to the history of the game. But all is not lost… Bob DuPuy, Major League Baseball’s president and chief operating officer, attempted to ease my fears.

“This is not a step toward wallpapering the ballpark.”

I don’t believe that. This is just the next step and any reasonable person has to assume that.

Never fret, though, because Mr. DuPuy has the perfect response to the purists:

“This does nothing to impact the play of the game,” DuPuy said. “The base doesn’t know that it has a corporate name on it, nor does the foot that hits the base.”

But the dollar wins every vote between purity and prosperity. It’s easiest to think short-term, with no thought given to respecting the game, respecting the players, and respecting the fans. This makes sense, thanks to the $100,000+ that teams like the Yankees and Red Sox will receive. They buy Alex Rodriquez, so I have to see Spider-Man 2 while eating my $4.50 fries and $3.50 bottle of water.

Finally, consider this logical quote from Geoffrey Ammer, president of worldwide marketing for the Columbia TriStar Motion Picture Group:

“This is the perfect alliance between two quintessential national pastimes — baseball and movie-going.”

I know whenever I think of the Phillies, my next thought is “Holy crap! I can’t wait to go to the movies!” If the “perfect alliance” really wants to do something interesting, put video screens in the back of seats and show movies during the game. Wait, nix that idea. With seatback video screens, we’ll just get 3 hours of commercials. Instead, I think I’ll just watch the game.

The Phillies are awful. We lost again today, in the home opener. I’m not giving up, but I sense impending disaster. When I wrote the script for the first 7 games of this season, it didn’t include 6 losses.

On Thursday, Danielle and I are going to Philadelphia to see the Phillies “play”. She’s never been to a Major League game, so I’d like it to be a good game for her. However, since I define a good game as a Phillies win, I’m a little worried. The new ballpark is nice, but losing sucks. I’ll have to buy her some cotton candy as a salve, but only if she buys me blinders and aspirin.

Even from DC, I can smell the “classic” Philadelphia smell surrounding the stadium complex. Sniff, sniff, sniff. As it wafts ungraciously into my nose, I’ve figured out the fragrance. It’s the scent of an in-progress 160-game losing streak.

New York Yankees at Philadelphia Phillies – Game on.

Now that I have a new scanner, I’m pulling old photographs from their decade-long slumber. The first picture I had to scan was a photo taken by my brother. We were in Philadelphia on August 5, 1990 for Dale Murphy’s second game as a Phillie.

While snapping pictures before the game, we noticed Murphy posing on the field for a photo. My brother took a picture of that scene. A few months later, I opened a pack of 1991 Donruss baseball cards and was stunned into silence. This is why:

Phillies Spring Training is under way! That is all.