Who Really Wanted to Meet Who?

The Phillies began a 4-game series against the Washington Nationals Friday evening. And prior to that they met with President Obama at the White House. My bet is that Mr. Obama wanted to meet – you guessed it - Chase Utley – the best and smartest baseball player in the Major Leagues. And my guess is also, that Chase Utley wanted to meet the President as well, no slouch in the brains department. Although he has not designed any athletic moves, he’s designed quite a few financial moves, moves we know quite well and call Socialism. They come under the rubric of ‘enlarging government and expanding its control over American citizens’.

Now what Chase designed for himself is this: he stands really really close to the plate, forcing the pitcher to pitch good pitches inside, or else he hits him. 25 times last year, 27 times the year before, and he gets so many good clean balls he hits lots of home runs and doubles - last year - and even manages to play well with a completely bum hip as evidenced by the second part of last season. And the way Chase has overcome having so little space in front of the plate to swing in: How does he do it? He developed the Chase Utley Short Swing. Ask Any Broadcaster, player, manager. Basically when you look at him, instead of extending his arms the way Raul Ibanez does, he takes a chop at the ball and his arms are so powerful this chop suffices to put the ball where he needs it to go – into the stands, let’s say.

You can imagine how much a short swinging baseball player might appeal to a long armed basketball player like President Obama? Duh. But, who would you rather be? The president or Chase Utley? Utley, right? A 7-year contract like Utley recently got from the Phillies? The president only got a 4 year contract and for a heck of a lot less money. I rest my case.

The Harry Kalas Tribute

This afternoon at one p.m. Philadelphia paid tribute to its beloved broadcaster Harry Kalas who had died in the booth before the game this past Monday night. Citizens Bank Park was packed and the tributes were both touching, funny and sincere. Everyone who ever met Harry seems to have loved him and everyone who ever heard him did also. As Harry Anderson said, ‘he had about two million best friends’. His son Kane spoke eloquently and so did pitcher Jamie Moyer. The tribute that touched me most, ‘though, was that of Michael Jack Schmidt, the 3rd baseman whose 500th home run Harry called and who was very present during the 1980 World Series win by the Phillies. He read a Psalm about a bountiful life and said that the outstanding fact about Harry’s life was how bountiful it was and how bountifully he gave of himself. This made me cry quite a bit as I’m sure it did everyone there at the Park. He said that as a son of a minister, Harry made broadcasting his ministry and it had been his calling. And who’s to say it was not? He made the Hall of Fame after all. His partnership with Richie Ashburn was a great blend of friendship, talent and love for the game. Harry’s voice was well known throughout sport for it’s mellifluity and he coined many phrases we’ll not forget, but ‘outta here’ will be the one that will stick longest I think when Phillies hit the long balls.

I can’t imagine that the organization is even thinking of trying to replace Harry Kalas.

Who’s the Real Love of My Life?

One Guess!

When it comes to real love department in the case of the Phillies the decision was very easy once a certain person came to the team. Now you’re gonna think it was Cole Hamels. Sure enough he’s my second favorite guy. He’s got everything going for him: he’s the best pitcher in the major leagues for starters and he’s quite good looking. But he’s very serious. Very modest. Self deprecating. That Chase Utley kind of thing. Never acknowledges that he is the best, while always expecting the next pitch to be a strike, the next game to be a win. While we all know he will win because he is the best. So what’s with that?

The guy I love is 5 ’10. He has thick not too curly hair and the straightest most beautiful white teeth possible. He’s got golden skin with peaches in his cheeks. A short straight nose with slightly flaring nostrils and beautifully shaped full lips. Have you guessed who it is yet?

It’s Carlos Ruiz, but of course. He’s the most romantic and talented guy the Phillies have ever had. He’s the single player who made those Playoff World Series wins possible. Think about it! True, right? Right. He caught for everybody! All of those fantastic pitchers, including Joe Blanton. Omigod! Yes. And yes Cole was very valuable.

But you saw the games, the season, the Post Season – those Playoffs, the Series, that rain. What did Carlos not do? Answer: he did it All. And with aplomb, with smiles. What photographic image do we remember from Brad’s last strikeout? Carlos running to his embrace with that million watt smile, right? I do, and I know you do.

But what we fans do not know is what Carlos does for the team on the road, just a little caper to keep the boys amused. He plays Zorro on his horse and sings a little, too. Just thought you’d love to see him…..There’s the reason, and the real reason.

Baby Come Back Department
As so many people know, Carlos Ruiz is Panamanian, a country that has born the terrible tragedy of then President Jimmy Carter’s decision, which Congress passed, to give the Panama Canal back to Panama in 1978. Carlos was born in 1979, amidst all the hopes that his parents and his country must have sustained only to have them sink into the mire of drugs, money laundering and graft that Panama has endured in all the years since we left.

Heat

Question: What do hot guys do?
Answer: Anything they want.

And one of the things the Phillies want is to take care of the Phillies nation, the people who count, you know - WE WHO HAVE CONTINUED TO HANG AROUND SINCE 1980. And one of the things management did was to send the World Series bling around Pennsylvania; that was very thoughtful and marvelous. Unfortunately, I did not find out when it was coming to Harrisburg (by train I think!) or somewhere else very near Carlisle, wasn’t that lazy of me? Yes. So money hasn’t been everything, right, the fans count for a lot! And let’s face it, we have had the most marvelous winter, sleeping regularly and willing to do chores, all of us, and looking so forward to spring, with Florida training and all of the glory that leads up to the Opening of the Season! That’s because none of us are cranky anymore. Talk about a lot of good dispositions breakin’ out! Phew! I guess. No longer shall we even think of booing Santa Claus or any other great guy! We’ve experienced The Great Win! We can relax because the Phils actually did it. And now we know the real truth. They can do it again and probably will. That’s what greatness is. That and trading Pat Burrell at last: the sum of all our hopes realized.

And what will the Phils be doing in these last few weeks before actual play begins? Workin’ on their nicknames, a precious activity. Akin to getting’ ready for; actually it’s not akin to getting’ ready for anything else because a nickname is bestowed upon you by your peers. Therefore you cannot do anything to get ready for it except to hope that you are good enough, true enough and smart enough so that your peers want to give you a nickname that characterizes the real you is so witty that you and everyone else loves it….

And who are we most curious about? Manager Charlie Manuel, but of course. He didn’t start being a genius this past season, Omigosh! No. He’s been the best for a very long time. And when did his greatness start to develop bigtime? When he went to Japan! And that’s where he got that nickname: Scoshi, pronounced Scoa-shee. It’s a Japanese word that means thin or little. Charlie was tall and not small but he was quite thin then. He batted like Joe DiMaggio and hit 189 homers in six seasons. He then returned to the US to direct the Cleveland Indians Minor League systems and worked his way UP, as Scott Kendrick put it. He also learned how to coach batting as a result of those experiences, and coached Manny Ramirez, who has seemed to retain Charlie’s advice. In the old days Charlie was 6 ft., 04, 200 lbs. Today he probably weighs a bit more, but the ‘scoshi’ – ironic truth about him – big guy small ego - lives.

RF Jayson Werth has realized that his teeth are ugly. He hasn’t seen all of Steve Buscemi’s movies over and over for nothing. That he realized this himself when the Phillies gave him his nickname tells the story. Fish! Fish??? Werth’s teeth are way too little. They do look like fish teeth. Actually the point is that his teeth look like bluefish teeth, and that’s a really bad look. Depending on your point of view. Bluefish swim into a bay, anywhere where there are some fish hanging out. They devour everything. And quickly! Nanosecond city. Ugly but mighty, that’s the watchword. And when you catch a bluefish you have to kill it, a fast blow to its head or it will bite you if it’s anywhere near anything of yours, like your toes.

Now Werth knows that he needs new teeth – the $25,000 veneers – the kind that cover-up whatever one has and give you big white new ones, according to Harold Golightly, Jimmy Rollins oral surgeon. But he also knows that if he does get veneers he will know longer have that great association with what he actually does in right field – you guessed it!– gobble up whatever comes there.

S0 we realize and so does Werth that Blue might be as good a nickname as Fish if we really think about it…..The Phils calling Werth Fish might just think how unpejorative that is and think how wonderfully pejorative Blue might be. That they could change that in a blink, and they’d have it, and that would make Jayson, so very, very happy. Nicknames have to go deep, right?

And in Jimmy Rollins case, you will need an explanation at the very least. His nickname is DEWG. That stands for Delaware Water Gap. And that refers to the gap between his teeth, and since the Delaware River rises at the Water Gap on the border at the eastern central part of the state, the Phillies are kind enough to recognize Pennsylvania in lieu of California where Jimmy’s from in relation to Jimmy’s photogenic space.

And lest you think Jimmy does not view his gap seriously here is what he does: twice a year he flies out and spends half a day with the aforementioned oral surgeon Harold Golightly who measures how far his gap has narrowed – teeth grow together folks – and calibrates –just much he has to shave off each side to keep that gap 1/16” apart at the top and 3/16” at the bottom”. Dr. Golightly is very particular. And since Jimmy does not like to feel that kind of pain, and who does? He gets a nice chunk of local anesthesia and takes the day off. It’s not a cheap procedure, either. I think these little adjustments cost about $5,ooo a year. Phew! Whoever said glamour wasn’t expensive?

Hail Thee, Festival Day! Blessed Day That Art Hallowed Forever…

The opening of the season is a bucket of 162 stars that we hang up in the empty skies of our dreams. But for us Phillies fans that season only started yesterday at the Mets last home-game opener at Shea. Their previous games count but they do not matter! O negative blood donated for free by Mets players and fans bathed the cold air. Or as Billy Wagner said before the game: Are we supposed to lay down because they won 8 straight?”

Make that 9, Billy.

It was a strange game. The things we know the Phillies can do, they did; Moyer pitched 6 innings ever so slowly – and gave up but two runs. Chase Utley was hit 3 times at bat, once on the baseline by Delgado, and still hit a double. The team scored all their runs beginning in the 7th inning. There was a scary collision between Shane Victorino and Jayson Werth but each of them got up and continued. Jimmy quit in the 8th with a left ankle sprain. He’s not playing tonight. By the time relievers Chad Durbin and J.T. Romero finished their turns without giving up any runs, the Phillies had scored 5. Tom Gordon guarded the grail in the 9th, getting the side out in 3. It was a swell 5-2 win for us while both the Mets and the fans were unduly quiet. But hey! They’ve been infected with the idea that they should win, that they’re entitled. It oozes from them and from the fans who booed Jimmy when he was introduced. Now the Phillies - the 12-step kids who might have been addicted to losing - before last season -take one game at a time.

The Server Makes the Meal
It was Mitch Williams, an analyst and former Phillies pitcher on Comcast, who quoted Mr. Wagner before yesterday’s game. He is very handsome in a wholesome way, the kind of looks your mother would like. He appears to be tall. He dresses pretty well, despite a bit of shine I spy in some of his garments. Omigosh! Yes. But he does have the most amazing hair. His stylist has taken his natural wave and knocked it out with a punk finish. Inspiring! What he analyzes and how he does it is anything but wholesome. He is destructively funny. “I was a lousy pitcher”, he always says in his own defense. With his wonderful timing and expressive timbre he might be giving lessons to standup types and TV hosts.

Lo Duca Lookout
Brett Myers hit Mr. Lo Duca on his left arm in the Phillies opening home game against the Nats. The fans cheered, which must have made him feel lousy. The next day during an interview with Nats commentator Debbi Taylor he allowed as how it didn’t get him down at all. “It’s what makes the game so wonderful,” he added. “They’ve really been giving it to me in the bullpen, about the Mitchell Report and all that good stuff”. He showed lots of teeth.

It’s not exactly news that I think the Mets goofed bigtime when they traded him. Fortunately I get some Nats games here in Delaware. Some of my readers have suggested that I may have an obsession with Mr. Lo Duca. Dr. Cole Porter knew a lot more about it than I do. “ I’ve Gotchoo…” he said, “Under My Sink.”

Baseball Lit 101

The New BILL JAMES Historical Baseball Abstract of 2001 revises his previous Abstract; it’s a 1012 page compendium of data through the 1999 season. He covers every aspect of the game except the history of hotdogs. A 27 page Index! A ton of stuff you want to know.

First there is the history of baseball from the beginning, as well as the history of the Negro Leagues. Mr. James does this by decades. Some his most interesting beliefs center on what is wrong with the game again, by decade. They game is too long, the stadiums are old and in horrible parts of a town with scary parking lots. Batters take too many times outs and the pitcher throws to first far too often. New York teams have dominated the game for years. Yuck! The worst problem is that there is no leadership and the economic disparity between teams can be solved – by dividing the monies gained from TV contracts equally – and still this has not been done.

He has many ways of ranking teams and players, and the ones I love most, and I believe I am not alone, are the 100 best players of all time by position. The regular stats – at bats, hits, slugging percentage, strikeouts, walks, ERA, et alia., however, don’t cut it for Mr. James. They do not tell the whole story. He has devised Win Shares, a score that deconstructs “THE BATTLE TO GET TO THE OBVIOUS” – who was the best? And who was the worst? He summarizes them by asking:

“What is missing from this picture?
What is distorted here, and what is accurately portrayed?
How can we show what has been left out?
How can we correct what has been distorted?”

We are on page 339 and have about 700 pages of answers to get through.

Checking out my statistical manuals – I have a BA in Psychology – I see that James uses the discipline of statistics for two purposes: describing sets of data in terms of graphs which demonstrate middleness (mean, median, mode), and of spread (range, variance, standard deviation). That a distribution can be symmetrical or skewed and how a skew changes the middleness. He also shows how two sets of data can be related, and how a score can be predicted by an individual’s score on a related variable, using something called the standard error of the estimate to indicate the amount of “play” in that prediction. He finds a correlation coefficient on data made up of ranks instead of measurements.

He also uses inferential statistics which means using a set of observable information to make inferences about larger groups that can’t be observed. Sound too boring? Mr. James explains his methods in a general way that is not threatening. And most of the book is the result of close observations that he has made in order to create his rankings. The results are not only enlight-ening, they entertain us. The Statistical abstract is a keeper. James has used statistics to interpret baseball’s collective dreams and they are ours, too, because we love the game.

Another Milestone
Karl Malden died last week at the age of 96. He was quite a tall Serbian with a huge nose who acted in at least 75 movies, usually with great hamminess. The man was a deli unto himself. He was a second banana in two great movies directed by Elia Kazan, On the Waterfront and Streetcar Named Desire. He appeared in it on Broadway, along with Marlon Brando – the one and only Stanley.

But the film I remember best for Malden’s work is Fear Strikes Out, from Jimmy Pearsall’s own biography, directed by Robert Mulligan, and also starring Tony Perkins. Piersall played baseball well as a boy in Waterbury, CT. But he never satisfied the demands of his father, portrayed by Malden. He’d practice in the mornings and the afternoons every day. No matter how many hits he got, how many good catches and throws he made, he was never good enough for Dad.

Piersall made the Red Sox and he seems happy. But Dad keeps the criticism going, attending games and conducting post mortems as if Jimmy has died. His father never cuts him any slack and never praises him. He erodes Jimmy’s psyche to a terrible breaking point. During one of the games he became uncontrollably psychotic. This scene is wonderful. Remember, this is the Tony Perkins who made Psycho such a great movie. He was practicing bigtime in Fear Strikes Out. But his suffering appears realistic – you’ve known from the get-go that Dad is a certified sadist. That kind of character was Malden’s forte anyway. You know, the guy who appears to be a really good person but does such horrible things at home. In a long period of psychiatric care Piersall finds that he has striven more to please his father than himself. He decides he can no longer see him, which his Dad cannot understand.

Piersall was talented; he played in the outfield from 1950 to 1967 in Boston and Cleveland. Looking him up in Bill James’ Abstract I find that he rates Piersall the 92nd best center fielder ever. He has also the tenth lowest rate of errors as a left fielder. And he had an ongoing friendship with Jack Kennedy. Where else can you find these facts? Don’t you want to own the Abstract? I do.


At Last…My Love Has Come Along
Phew! The season starts on March 31st for us when the Phillies welcome the Nats to Citizens Bank Park. I’ll be able to check Paul Lo Duca out again, and he’ll probably need attention. Since it’s a home game I won’t have to look at the Phillies’ new road uniforms with that dark green top. Omigod! Dark green? That was always the color of Dad’s leather club chairs, my mother’s sofa, prep school hockey jumpers and the mattes on duck prints all over America. A Forties color actually, that I haven’t seen since then. But Retro is in, as we know.

The real reason I can’t wait for the season to start is that I won’t have to mute all the drug commercials. The new Bud Lites are coming; the new Bud Lites are coming! I’ll be there.

Milestone Department, March 8th, 2008

It’s Jim Bouton’s 69th birthday today. How do I know? Like every other American I read it in the paper. But of course! He published Ball Four in 1970 when I was docking my dream of moving to Manhattan. So I missed it then. Hey I missed the San Francisco earthquake too. Phew! Ball Four made a much bigger fire. A fire that forty years have not quenched.

Mr. Bouton saw glory days pitching for the Yankees. In his first season – 1962 – he got a World Series ring. In 1968 the Yankees traded him to the Seattle Angels, who would become the Pilots in 1969. In Ball Four he recalls his Yankee time com saudade - with longing - and tells us what happened with the Seattle Pilots and in the same season, the Houston Astros. He takes notes. He keeps his tablet in his uniform pants on the mound and his pen in the dugout. The Pilots’ general manager, the manager and the coaches - so like that great bunch from Lord of the Flies - treat Jim and his teammates as Piggy phalanx, a body of troops they’ve gotta mow down. Without the thrill of murder, but of course.

Pitching coach Sal Maglie, an old hero of Jim’s from the Giants, runs spring training in a way that Jim hopes is not like the way it went with the Yankees: “He told me I’d be pitching five minutes of batting practice today and that I’d be the last pitcher. That might mean something. It’s one of the tiny things you look for during spring training. You watch who you follow in batting practice, try to find out how many minutes you’ve pitched compared with other pitchers, decide whether you’re with the good squad or the bad squad, whether the morning workout is more important than the afternoon workout. The Yankees would divide the squad into morning and afternoon groups and they’d always say it didn’t mean a thing, just two groups for convenience. Except that the morning group always had Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Elston Howard, Whitey Ford and guys like that. The afternoon group would have a bunch of guys named Dick Beradino. I never saw a guy hit or pitch himself off the afternoon list.” This is on page 14, a harbinger.

Not having to negotiate his contract makes Mr. Bouton nervous. Then in Spring Training he has to run “fifteen or twenty windsprints” a day in 100 degree Tempe, Arizona sun. This does not light his fire. He concludes that “anyone who can’t sweat in Arizona hasn’t tried”.

GM Marvin Milkes sends a guy to the minors, right? But without any notice! A guy’s on the roster one day then yikes! It’s a heads up for Tony La Paglia. Mr. Bouton pitches two games after the season opens and then: “I died tonight. I got sent to Vancouver. My first reaction: outrage. Second reaction: Omigod! How am I going to tell Bobbie? …The $650 deposit on the place we’d already signed for. Moving again. Again. And we just got here.”

Joe Schultz tells Jim he had to send him to Vancouver because he didn’t think “your knuckle ball did that much in Arizona and we wanted to see what it looked like when it got out of the light air…” From Vancouver he segues to Hawaii – girls work topless at the nightclub in their hotel. Everyone likes this. He pitches well there. On April 29th, back to Seattle.

He concentrates on his knuckleball again. It’s pitch that most pitchers have. But he still wants to be a knuckleball pitcher. Joe Schultz does not believe in Mr. Bouton. When he gets to pitch Schultz demands fast balls and sliders. He obeys; he pitches walks, gives up hits and this makes him sad. If he could pitch more innings he’d be able to count on that knuckleball. It’s no go.

Mr. Bouton cannot tell coaches from babysitters; Eddie O’Brien sees guys eating sunflower seeds in the bullpen. “Hey, no eating in the bullpen. Not even sunflower seeds, Eddie? Nothing, not even sunflower seeds.” There are curfews. There are fines for acts of commission and omission. Guys get depressed and Omigod! It’s like, 20 years before Prozac! The solution? Greenies: dextroamphetamine sulfate! To not take the pipe, to get up, to have energy, to perform. That’s just one of the amazing secret of the book: Players take speed. Yes, they take speed - not injections but pills. And yes, they are not sorry about it.

Among the guys it’s not a secret: greenies are something they do, like having girlfriends in many ports. And there are other earthly pleasures. Egg-walking becomes egg-laying with utterly inspiring practical jokes. The kind that really hurt a person. Get your own notepads out! These are some of the rewards of being kids.

There’s so much that is rotten, horrible and funny if you’re not the perpee. Mr. Bouton reveals some old Yankee habits also. Too Much Information Department? Turn to page 163 of the 20th Anniversary edition.

Then Mr. Bouton goes to the Astros. They’ve been winning games. They’re pennant contenders. But first, there’s manager Harry the Hat Walker. I remember he played third base for the Phillies in my time. He was really ugly. He’s older now, still ugly and a screamer. But Jim gets to pitch, even as a starter. He wins games. And, there’re a hundred more pages of this great stuff!

Baseball Inc. really hated Ball Four. Yes. Everybody else loved it. It’s still fresh, and riveting. That was then, before free agency, million dollar contracts and a few other things. But Dido still sings, When I am laid, am laid to rest, remember me! Not to worry.

Lo Duca Lookout

Despite being ‘social and chatty’, he had a lousy 2007.
He was traded from the Mets to the Nats for their catcher Brian Schneider. He signed a contract for $5 million December 11th, two days before the Mitchell Report was released. It mentioned him 37 times: for receiving shipments of HGH, for putting other players in touch with Kirk Radomski, for writing $3200 cheques. To Radomski, who had given copies to Mitchell investigators.

In a February interview, Mr. Lo Duca admitted “a mistake, mistakes in judgment”. “You do something wrong in your life and you get away with it, you still have something inside you that burns.” ”...It’s a big relief for me to know that I’ve come to grips with it.” A mistake is an error, blunder or misunderstanding. A mistake is wrong, something wrongly judged. I don’t see how ‘mistake’ can describe writing cheques for $3200 a pop except those costly errors of ‘judgment.’

The Times analyzed named the Mitchell players’ performance while allegedly ‘using’, in bar graphs.

Mr. Lo Duca’s graphs show that before he was linked to performance-enhancing substances he only hit well above his career average in 2001. His great 2006 Mets season was so not better than that. Those big cheques were for naught!