You Can't Kill the Game*

Trust me when I say this: You can't kill the game of baseball. And, trust me when I say, ...But that doesn't keep us from trying.

Now, I doubt there is a vast right-wing conspiracy to destroy the national past time, but there have been times over the years that baseball has broken the hearts of its fans. With the release of the Mitchell Report, today might just be one of those times.

To be completely honest, I haven't read the report myself. There are other people whose job it is to read and digest that type of information and pass it on to the rest of us, including the names of individuals that were caught using steroids and other illegal substances to enhance their performance.

It's a sad day when stars of the game such as Miguel Tejada, Andy Pettite, Roger Clemens are outed as cheaters. No one should be surprised that names like Barry Bonds, Jose Canseco, and Mark McGwire made the list as well. It's sad, but the game, like a good pitcher coming off a horribly poor showing, will toe the rubber once again to pitch another day. You can't kill this game.

Prior to 1942, blacks were not allowed to play baseball. In 1919, the Chicago "Black" Sox threw the World Series. In 1994, because of labor disputations and the ensuing strike, there was no World Series. Baseball, just like the rest of us, evolves and moves forward, sometimes making mistakes along the way. The steroid era is one of those mistakes, but baseball will live to play another day.

Players that pumped steroids or took performance enhancing drugs cheated. They cheated the hallowed history of the game by tainting the statistical bridge that joins everyone that has ever played at the highest level. They cheated teammates who had the moral strength to abstain from using those substances when everyone around them said it was okay. They cheated an entire generation of young fans who grew up emulating them, who will only find out one day that their heros were frauds. But most of all, and saddest of all, they cheated themselves. Altruistic? Yes. But, Roger Clemens will never know how good he would have been had he been clean. How many strikeouts would he have had? Barry Bonds will never be sure if he could have broken the homerun records without help. Maybe they could have had the hall of fame careers that they have had even without drugs. But, we will never know for sure -- and neither will they.

But, understand this: the game will go forward. One day we may discover that half of all players used some sort of illegal substance and cheated. But even then, half of them did not. Those players have had to work harder just to keep pace, and the game will be better for it. Those players are the heart and soul of baseball, and as long as they are there, baseball will never die.

I'm No Dummy

Luther "Dummy" Taylor was a 21 game winner in 1904 for the New York Giants. He and fellow pitcher Christy Mathewson led the Giants to back to back National League pennants in '04 and '05. One Detroit sportswriter said that he threw "the best drop ball delivered across the plate by any pitcher." Throughout his major league career, his ERA (earned run average) was usually low, especially by today's standards, though his record often suffered from a lack of run support. The Saturday Evening Post once commented about him, "Wherever Taylor goes he will always be visited by scores of the silent fraternity among whom he is regarded as a prodigy." In other words, he was adored by other members of the "silent fraternity" because he was great, and because he was one of them. He was deaf.

It was common practice at the time for deaf persons to be nicknamed "dummy," so Taylor's own epithet had more to do with his handicap than his intelligence. However, he did not view his impaired hearing as a detriment. He felt that, much like Ben Aflek in Dare Devil, lacking one sense only enhanced his others. For example, his keen eyesight allowed him to easily steal the signs from the opposing team. He also said he could gauge whether a baserunner was going to steal or not based on his facial expressions.

But, why should Dummy Taylor warrant a post on such a prestigious blog as this? Well, according to some sources, he may be at least partially responsible for the proliferation of "signs" in baseball. John McGraw took over the helm of the New York Giants in 1902 and came up with an innovative way of dealing with Taylor's handicap by making the entire team learn sign language. The team would practice everywhere. For example, while riding the train, they would spell out the roadsigns as they passed. Eventually, this skill spilled over into their games and became the earliest form of "signs" in baseball, according to the Giants.

These days signs are an integral part of the game. A catcher not only uses signs to tell the pitcher what to throw, but can also alert the infielders as to what their responsibilities are should the man at the plate lay down a sacrifice bunt. There are all sorts of signs and signals in the game; too many to list. They can be as complex as the third place the coach touches himself after he retouches the first place he touched after he touched the bill of his hat, or as simple as in little league where, if the coach touches his belt ("B" is for belt), you bunt ("B" is also for bunt). With signs in baseball the lines of communication are open, and getting nine guys on the same page and playing together as a team is invaluable.

As for Dummy Taylor, sure, there are plenty of players past and present that might be more exciting. But, as a coach once told us, everyone brings something different to the table. Everyone has a role to play, and to be our best, everyone needs to fulfill that role. Dummy made his contribution, and I'm glad he did.

A-Media-Lightning-Rod

So maybe I'm a few days late on the Alex Rodriguez hype. With not much going on in the baseball world these days, I figured I should jump on the band-wagon and throw in my two-cents on the subject, for what it's worth. If you're sick of A-Rod, you are definitely not alone, and you might just want to check back in a week for a new post. But, despite all the irritating things about this superstar, his accomplishments deserve some recognition--and what better way of recognizing the best player of the modern baseball era than by dedicating a post to him on an obscure blog with a readership of at least 7 (give or take).

Alex Rodriguez was drafted out of Miami's Westminster Christian High School June 3, 1993 by the Seattle Mariners and broke onto the Major League baseball stage July 8, 1994 at the tender age of 18 years and 4 months. Newsflash: If you're good enough to get at-bats in the Majors when you're 18 years old, you are pretty good. But, just two years later, at the age of 20, A-Rod was already contending for the American League MVP. His 36 HR, 123 RBI, and .358 BA that year were enough to earn a second place finish in the balloting behind Juan Gonzalez.

With 518 career homeruns, and now only 31 years old, he is the youngest player ever to reach the 500 homerun mark. When Willie Mays was 31 he had hit a mere 368. Hammerin' Hank Aaron had pounded out 398. And Barry "Indict-Me" Bonds had smashed only 334. Let's conservatively say that over the next 10 years of Rodriguez's new contract with the Yankees he hits an average of 30 homeruns a season. Now, if you're unfamiliar with A-Rod's season-by-season homerun totals, you might think that this is a little optimistic. He's got to have some down years in there, right? Well, consider this: He has officially played in 14 seasons, dating back to his 1994 debut. However, in '94 he played in only 17 games, and in '95 he played in just 48. Still, if you average his 518 homeruns and include those first two seasons, where he hit a combined total of 5 homeruns, he's currently averaging 37 homeruns a year. So, if you only take the 12 full seasons he has played and subtract the 5 from his first two seasons, his average homerun output a year jumps to 42.75 (which I guess would mean 42 homeruns and one triple?).

A-Rod is a very special player. Most people have plenty of reasons for not liking him though. Most recently, he aroused the ire of the media by announcing his opt-out of his Yankee contract during the final game of this season's World Series, despite rules that prohibit such news during the Fall Classic. Indications were that he was seeking a 10 year, $350 million contact as a free agent. However, there were a few problems. Most importantly, there is only a very small group of teams that could afford that type of contract. Besides, it's obvious that you don't need A-Rod to win a championship, since that is about the only achievement he has yet to attain. So, the Angels, the Giants, and the Dodgers passed. Suddenly, his list of potential suitors had diminished to one team: the New York Yankees. So, it seems he returned to the negotiating table, hat in hand, saying he still wanted to be a Yankee after all.

And, I'm okay with that. The Yankees are probably the only team in baseball that is bigger than A-Rod. It seems like a perfect fit to me.

There's also one other reason why I think he decided to go back to New York and it can be summed up in one word -- Legacy. If he were to retire today and never play again, he's a hall of famer, no doubt. Having reached the plateau of 500 homeruns is enough for admission to the Hall. But, under what club would he be admitted. For quintessential stars like Ted Williams, or more recently, Cal Ripken, Jr. and Tony Gwynn, who remained with the same team for their entire careers, the choice is clear: Ted Williams=Red Sox, Cal Ripken=Orioles, and Tony Gwynn=Padres. But what about A-Rod? He spent a few seasons in Seattle, but bolted for the largest contract in sports history at the time when he signed a free agency deal with the Texas Rangers. He had some spectacular years there, but was soon traded to the Yankees because Texas couldn't afford the mortgage payments. But now, if he's able to play out his contract in New York and reach the monumental milestones for which he's ahead of pace, he'll finally have a home and a team.

Sure, you and I may not agree with everything he does, and it may be hard to relate to a man whose salary is over $22 million a year for most people. But, we have to admit, he is one of the greatest to ever play the game. There's A-Rod, and then, there's everyone else... In more ways than one.

Statistics provided by baseball-reference.com

Speak of the Devil... Rays?

What could possibly motivate me to post a week before Thanksgiving, when I'm so busy trying to organize my portfolio for a run at a job at Hallmark? Uniforms, of course.

Maybe you've heard about this already, but when did the Tampa Bay Devil Rays drop the Devil? The Tampa Bay Rays? That's right. And along with the new name comes some sweet new textiles. Personally, I love the little sun burst. Funny how all of the teams that were established in the '90s are adopting more traditional team colors in place of what were the trendy teals and purples of that time. As for the name thing, I don't think the league should have allowed this change. The American League East is on a slippery slope here. There has to be some sort of obscure by-law that would prohibit a situation where the Rays and the Jays are in the same division. How long before the Toronto Blue Jays put out a press release that announcing they are no longer Blue? What about that team in Boston? Isn't their name too long too? Sox would suffice. Sure, you might get confused with the White Sox, but maybe they could convince them to change their team name to White. No logo, just white pants, jerseys, and hats, kind of like the Beatles White album.

Come to think of it, maybe the "Rays" are on to something (actually, Arizona's uniforms probably make them bigger culprits of team name truncation, but I like the "D-backs'" new look). There are a few teams that could shorten their names. I'd definitely like to see the Angels pick a city. Doing so would cut their name in half.

Bottom line: bush-league uniforms for a bush-league club. Tampa Bay's new look (especially the jersey) has a distinctly minor league feel. I hope they didn't pay too much for that logo. I would have done twice the job for half the dough.

Glad That's Over

Well, it didn't take long for the Red Sox to take care of the Colorado Rockies, did it. I told you I have a habit of cheering for the wrong team. But, look at it this way, die-hard Rockies fan -- your team won 21 of its final 26 games en route to its first ever World Series appearance. And as Manny Ramirez always says, "If it doesn’t happen, so who cares? There’s always next year. It’s not like it’s the end of the world.” So, lighten up. He's right. It's not the end of the world, just the end of another season of baseball. So, with that in mind, I've created the countdown timer for Spring Training 2008 (right side of the page). Stay tuned during the offseason, as I plan on providing plenty of baseball blogging goodness, with a little graphic design on the side.