Rumors and reports of rumors

With Major League Baseball’s trading deadline edging up on us, I am beginning to feel skittish. Talking last night to Dan Rivkin, who will be covering the hoped-for frenzy on Saturday for MLB, I confirmed that he’s heard the same rumors that I’ve heard trickling in all week: Baseball-Related Program Activities 2004 is considering trading me for a player to be named later and the usual “cash considerations.”

I thought it was odd when Jim started talking about reviving No, No, Nanette, but it was only in the last week, when I discovered that Ken Jennings would be taking a break from driving the Jeopardy question writers around the bend, that I began to worry.

I can’t really even blame Jim. Think about it: what do I bring to the trip that Ken Jennings can’t? I’m sure he even knows St. Louis Cardinals history better than I do. Taking me on the trip is like writing Rey Ordonez into the lineup when Alex Rodriguez is available.

But then I remembered my little version of the no-trade clause: I do have the Cardinals tickets. And I bet Ken Jennings’s family doesn’t live within convenient driving distance of Busch Stadium.

Maybe I’ll get to stay on the roster after all.

P.S. One more thought about the deadline. I really dislike that MLB has moved it up to 4 p.m. Eastern on Saturday. I think it should be the stroke of midnight on the 31st, and that at that moment, Bud Selig’s voice should come over the speaker phones of every general manager: “Time. Put your pencils down.”

Original comments…

Jim: As far as I know, Ken Jennings is unavailable for the trip because “Jeopardy!” is taping shows on August 24th and 25th. But even if he’s lost, you don’t get your “Jeopardy!” winnings check from Sony until after your last air date (and it can be up to 120 days later), so it’s not like he’d be able to spring for, say, rooms in the SkyDome Hotel.

Also, he may be the fun, easy-going type of Mormon, but he’s still a Mormon, and for all I know, he might spend the trip berating me for drinking caffeinated beverages. True, Levi might spend the trip berating me for eating hot dogs, bacon, hot dogs wrapped in bacon, and other meat products, but at least I know how to deal with him — distract him with some sort of reading material, and he’ll be quiet for hours (why do you think I made sure to get all those AAA Tourbooks?). Ken Jennings seems to like movies better than reading, believe it or not, and there won’t be a DVD system in the rental car.

Jason: I would think Ken Jennings would be Jim’s nemesis. (Or is that ‘arch-nemesis’?)

Toby: I say trade Levi for me. I have a press pass.

Toby: …And I eat nothing except meat!

Basebrawl, the fun version

Now, even if you didn’t enjoy Jason Varitek’s attempt to pluck out Alex Rodriguez’s eyes on Saturday, I think you’ll enjoy the brawl from last night’s White Sox/Twins game as presented by Batgirl.

What, you say? There was no brawl? Well, she thinks there should have been, after Corey Koskie was hit by pitches three times in the game. And she’s got Lego men and a digital camera, all she needs to make her own brawl.

By the way: what do you think Varitek was going to do with A-Rod’s eyes if he got them? At first I thought he was planning ahead to use the hidden ball trick, but I don’t think that would work as well with eyeballs as it did with a potato that one time.

Original comments…

Dan: I think I read Varitek was going to threaten to throw his eyes into the Tigris River unless the Yankees withdrew their club from first place.

Jason: I think he was confusing Alex Rodriguez with Bette Davis.

Just ask Kim Carnes.

Batgirl, the baseball variety

Got some time to kill on a slow Friday afternoon at the office? Stop playing Minesweeper and check out Batgirl’s site. I found it yesterday, and she sold me with this post that features a lot of great possibilities for newspaper headlines about that day’s Twins win.

She’s a Twins fan, which is probably all you need to know about the depth of her passion for baseball. Although I enjoyed the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome the one time I was there, it would take a great love of baseball for someone to spend more than a couple of the beautiful days of the Twin Cities’ short summer staring at the baggie in right field instead of having a beer at an outdoor restaurant and keeping your eyes out for Prince.

We’re talking The Human Computer and Fruit Pies kinda love. That’s the kind of love Batgirl has for the Twins.

Original comments…

Jason: Talking in the 3rd person? Is she Bob Dole’s granddaughter?

Jason wonders if she’s gone to any St. Paul Saints games. Jason would go if Jason was in the Twin Cities area.

Donna Cochener: leeeeeviiii…. when you guys do your baseball roadtrip, can you get me a Hello Kitty from each team? It’s my newest collection. I’ll pay you for the Kitties and for the pain and suffering, too. 🙂 I already have a Mariners Hello Kitty and a Dodgers Hello Kitty, so those are covered…

Levi: No.

Well, maybe.

Note my kindness getting the better of my better judgment here. I think Hello Kitty should be put on just about everything . . . except baseball trip itineraries.

stacey: donna, if levi won’t get you a hello kitty from each park, i’ll make you several slices of hello kitty toast and mail them to you.

Just in time

According to this story, officials from the Major League Baseball Players’ Union met with Montreal Expos player reps yesterday to inform them that there would be no baseball in Montreal next season. The team’s new home hasn’t been decided, but it appears that it will be either Washington, DC, or northern Virginia.

Since one of the main reasons Jim and I are taking this trip is to see the Montreal Expos, I’m glad we didn’t put the trip off a year.

But before the Expos leave us, one more thing needs to be said: Major League Baseball killed baseball in Montreal. Though baseball in Montreal was never a good bet to be as big as in baseball’s best cities, the Expos were popular in the past, and there’s no reason to think that, with a winning team and smart ownership, they couldn’t be popular in the future.

Take a look at this chart of Expos home attendance through the years. From 1979-1983, when the Expos were winning at a .543 clip (picking up their one division title along the way and finishing second (to the Pirates) twice), the Expos averaged nearly 28,000 fans per game. Attendance fell along with the Expos’ winning percentage throughout the 1980s and into the 1990s, but it didn’t utterly collapse until the late 1990s, on the heels of two fire sales and the loss of the 1994 postseason, which cost the best Expos team in 15 years its chance at a World Series.

If this were any other business, some smart young rich guy would look at those figures and decide to take a crack on turning baseball around in Montreal. But in the Seligian fiefdom that is MLB, the 30 owners thought they were better off with wrangling another taxpayer-funded stadium, depressing salaries for a few years, and trying (and failing) an experiment in Puerto Rico. And as for the remaining Expos fans, well, tough merde.

So enjoy your new Senators or Swamp Rats or K Street Killers or Suburban Sluggers or whatever, [insert name of Expos new home city or region here], in the new stadium you built them. But you might want to get started drawing up the paperwork on those bonds for 2035, when Zombie Selig will reveal that the stadium is antiquated and will keep the team from ever succeeding, and if you don’t build a new one, he might just have to authorize a move to . . . . Montreal.

Ya never know

The last two Cardinals games have provided an example of one of the reasons I like baseball. Day to day, you never know what kind of game you’ll get. One day, you hit five home runs and win 11-8. The next, you get three hits–two by your pitcher–and win 1-0.

You never know what you’re going to get, that is, unless you’re Barry Bonds, in which case you at least know you’ll get walked about 1300 times per game.

Last chance

I’m going to order tickets for game 2 of our trip tomorrow, once I know whether my brother is joining us. That’s the game in St. Louis on August 22nd versus the Pirates.

So it’s your last chance, potential hangers-on. We’ve got a group of 9 so far (Me, Jim, Stacey, Luke, my parents, Tony, Geoff Goldman and his fiancee). Want to join us?

Original comments…

Luke: Is our group big enough to get a group rate and get welcomed on the DiamondVision? Maybe the nine of us can be waiting out on the field when the Cu^^Cardinals come out to start the game!

Luke: Oh, and I sure hope Matt Morris is pitching that day and does as well as he is doing today. Hee-hee!

Luke: Umm, nevermind. I expect that by the time of our trip I’ll be rooting for the Cards to keep the Pirates out of the wild-card race.

Cards/Cubs notes

I’m only here at the office half a day today, so all I’ve got today is a few quick notes from last night’s game:

1) Wendell Kim has failed to master any of the three elements of a third-base coach’s job. As I see it, those elements are knowing the speed of the runners on your team, knowing the quality of the throwing arm of the opposing outfielders, and knowing, at the very least, how many outs have been made already in an inning. Breaking down last night’s Wavin’ Wendell moment, we see that Kim sent a slightly hobbled runner, Aramis Ramirez (Element 1), against the great arm of Reggie Sanders (Element 2) when there were no outs in the inning (Element 3). Hilarity ensued.

Kim was apologetic after the game.

2) In the 4th inning, after Jim Edmonds deposited a ball onto Sheffield, he admired his shot too long for Carlos Zambrano’s taste. Now, my seatmate, Michelle, and I didn’t notice anything, and even as we watched the slow-motion replay on the TV hanging above our heads, we didn’t think Edmonds had been out of line. Zambrano thought differently, so he yelled at him, almost precipitated a brawl, and then in the 8th, after giving up another home run, this one to Rolen, he hit Edmonds. I agree with Phil Rogers today (Wow. That’s the first time that’s happened that I know of. And I thought it was weird when I found myself agreeing with something Pat Buchanan said recently. These are strange days indeed.) in the Tribune: if you’re pitching for a team whose superstar does a wiggly little hop every time he homers, you should probably keep quiet about demonstrations by your opponents.

3) Zambrano was ejected immediately after hitting Edmonds–who, to his credit took his base in manly, “I’m above this shit–and we’re about to have a 9-game lead” fashion, singlehandedly preventing a brawl–which led Michelle and me to consider the rules. Zambrano knew he would be ejected for hitting Edmonds, as both benches had been warned earlier. Because there was no one getting ready in the bullpen, Mike Remlinger, when called upon, was given all the time he needed to get warmed up.

Michelle and I agreed that that’s an understandable policy. After all, it’s not in anyone’s interest to have pitchers getting injured because they only got eight warm-up tosses. But we also agreed that such a policy could lead to abuse by managers: in this case, Zambrano had just given up the lead. He wasn’t going to be lifted from the game, but it’s easy to imagine a circumstance in which the manager, his pitcher suddenly falling apart on the mound, has him get ejected from the game in order to avoid having to keep him out there for another batter or two while the reliever gets ready.

But I came up with a solution to this problem. The reliever who enters following an ejection gets all the time he needs to warm up . . . but the opposing manager gets to pick who that reliever is. Jeff Fassero, are you hiding down there behind the tarp? Come on down! Mel Rojas, are you in the clubhouse wrapped in a towel? Tony LaRussa would like to see you!

Next time I harangue the Commish in a dream, I’ll suggest that change in the rules.

4) And a quick note on selectivity and patience at the plate. I was tracking pitches while keeping score last night. Cubs leadoff man Mark Grudzielanek saw only eight pitches while making four outs. Meanwhile, Cardinals leadoff man Tony Womack, in the course of going 0-3 with two walks, used up 21 pitches. That lack of patience has dogged nearly all the Cubs all year long, and it goes a long way towards explaining how Chris Carpenter was able to get through eight innings last night on only 97 pitches and four earned runs despite giving up 12 hits. Well, that and point #1 above.

What just happened?

Saturday at Wrigley Field, I saw Greg Maddux throw a shutout in 2:05, which I think is the shortest game I’ve ever seen. If the Cubs hadn’t scored some runs in the 8th and thereby forced a pictching change, it would have been around 1:45.

If all the games we see on our trip move that quickly, Jim and I might have to find some nearby minor-league games, just to keep busy. How does 21 games in 11 cities in 10 days sound, Jim?

Original comments…

Jon Solomon: I went to a Yankees game on opening day in the late 1980s. Yanks won 2-0. Game was over in +/- 1:50. Rafael Santana hit into an around-the-horn triple play to end the 8th.

Jim: It could be 21 games in 21 cities with the minor-league games added. Now, some are close — the Clearwater Phillies and Tampa Yankees aren’t too far from St. Petersburg, home of the Devil Rays; and I think you know about the locations of the minor-league teams in the Chicago area — but as far as I know, the Brooklyn Cyclones and Staten Island Yankees are the only minor-league teams to be in the same city limits as a major-league team.

Jon Solomon: I am proud to report that there are FOURTEEN minor league teams within 2.5 hours of my home in Lawrenceville, NJ. Trenton. Camden. Lakewood. Montclair. Reading. Wilkes-Barre. Harrisburg. Wilmington. Atlantic City. Somerset. Newark. Augusta. Brooklyn. Staten Island. Woo!

I’ll admit that I assumed it was lame.

A week or two ago, watching Houston fall to the Padres, I finally saw Trevor Hoffman’s grand entrance. As you all probably know, when Hoffman enters a game, the stadium PA plays AC/DC’sHell’s Bells.” At the Padres’ new ballpark, the song is accompanied by devilish flames licking Hoffman’s name on the big screen in left field.

And I have to admit that it was pretty cool. Sure, it’s overblown, and AC/DC is so . . . obvious? Cliched? But the crowd was into it, and as Hoffman walked through the outfield, he did seem tougher.

This got me to thinking about the music that’s played when hitters come to the plate at most ballparks these days. I used to agree with Luke (and probably most of the readers of this blog, who tend, it seems, towards traditionalism) that such displays had no place in the ballpark.

Then Magglio Ordonez happened. When Magglio–one of the best hitters ever to play in semi-obscurity–comes to the plate, the PA runs the marching chant of the Wicked Witch of the West’s palace guards, the Winkies: “Oh-Ee-Oh.” The crowd finishes the line, “Magg-lio.” It’s a low, rumbling sound, it makes wonderfully creative use of Magglio’s name, and if I were a pitcher, I’d be getting ready to back up third. At the Sox game a couple of weeks ago, the scoreboard announced that Ordonez had that morning been activated from the Disabled List, and the PA–with Magglio nowhere in sight–played his music. The crowd went wild.

So my coworker, Peter, and I started having a silly discussion about what we might have played when we came to bat, were we major league players. Peter hit upon what I think is the best possible idea: Dr. Octagon’sI’m Destructive!” I kept dithering between the intro to Stevie Wonder’sHigher Ground” and the intro to Cornershop’sSleep on the Left Side.” Or the horn intro to Gloria Jones’sTainted Love,” or Tom Wait’sBlack Wings,” or the Beastie Boys doing “Johnny Ryall.”

I also thought about a part of a live version of “Cypress Avenue” where Van Morrison shouts”Baby!” forty-five times in a row. If that won’t wear a pitcher out, I’ve got no hope. But I suppose if I were to be honest about my abilities, I’d probably play another Stevie Wonder song, “Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing.”

And what for you?

Original comments…

Steve: The Magglio chant is pretty cool if a little overblown but it brings up an interesting issue. My boss, and no slouch in the trivia department, insists that the chant actually has words and they are… “All we owe…we owe…her.”

I keep telling him to put up or shutup with an internet link or Wizard of Oz fan site. So far he “has better things to do.” Still, if he’s right it ads an interesting dimension.

Steve: Shit. I forgot my song to enter the game. ZZ Top, “Just got Paid” if I was a batter and if a reliever, Willie Nelson’s “Time of the Preacher”

Jim: “Jimmy Mack,” by Martha Reeves and the Vandellas, despite the fact that I don’t go by Jimmy and my last name doesn’t start with Mc or Mac. Actually, if I were making the major-league minimum, I might go with They Might Be Giants’ “Minimum Wage.”

Jim: Better yet: Jim Croce’s “You Don’t Mess Around with Jim.” (Lyrics not linked because, after a quick search, I can’t find a page that doesn’t open a million pop-up ads and has the correct “its” instead of “it’s” in the first two lines of the song.)

Becky: I’m tempted by Psycho Killer by Talking Heads for batting (because I’d be a big slugger). For relieving I’d go for Right Now by Van Halen, and There She Goes by the La’s when I get pulled three pitches later (do we get to pick the music for when we get pulled?).

Toby: For Levi (who I’ve always called Leviticus), how about The Theme from Exodus or anything by Genesis.

If I was coming to the plate, I think “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown” (with the crowd changing the chant to “Bad, Bad Toby Brown” would be cool. But, since I would only want to play for my favorite team, the Pirates, there’s probably little chance of any crowd participation (unless we traveled back in time to about 1979).

Levi: Hell, Toby, if we’re making ourselves into big-league ballplayers, we might as well throw some time travel in, too.

I’m going back to October 1985 and rescuing Vince Coleman from that tarp-rolling machine.

Jason: Batting music: Opening intro to “Money” by Pink Floyd

Pitching Relief music: “Funeral Pyre” by The Jam

Dan: Walking in from bullpen: The intro track off Dr. Dre’s The Chronic (the one with Snoop talking over the sample vamp — “If that bitch can’t swim, she’s bound to driz-zown.”)

Batting: Handel’s “Messiah”

stacey: it’d be pretty awesome if i were in the majors. i’d have to go with P.U.N.K Girl by Heavenly . . . i’d be such a punk hitter. also, i am a girl.

Toby: I’ve met Stacey and I think “Heartbreaker” by Pat Benatar would be a better choice…. Levi, you lucky S.O.B. ….

Luke: I’d do the first few measures of Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony, but only if the stadium had enough bass to loosen people’s fillings. It’d be such a low rumble that the crowd wouldn’t even notice that music were being played, except for the screws coming out of their seats.

thatbob: If I was a pitcher, I’d probably be some kind of knuckle ball/submarine closer. So a little Theremin music would be cool – maybe from the Bernard Herrmann score for The Day The Earth Stood Still? Batting, maybe the exuberant opening riffs from Les Paul & Mary Ford’s “Tiger Rag”? Or would I need to be a Tiger for that?

Important background information

For those of you who will be watching the All-Star Game tonight, there’s a bit of information about tonight’s National League battery that you should know:

About four years ago, Roger Clemens hit Mike Piazza in the head with a pitch. And then later, in the World Series, Piazza broke his bat on a pitch and the head of the bat flew onto the infield, CAUSING CLEMENS TO ANGRILY TOSS IT IN PIAZZA’S GENERAL DIRECTION!!!!!!!!!!!*

I felt like I ought to pass that on, because I was worried that Joe Buck and Tim McCarver might not think to mention the incident tonight, or show the clip, or mention the incident, or show the clip, or mention the incident, or show the clip, or mention the incident. They might also not think to mention that Clemens and Piazza have put it all behind them.

*I know that using all caps on the Internet is thought to be rude, because it’s considered to be like shouting. But I used all-caps anyway, because the story was so big that I HAD TO SHOUT!!!!!

Original comments…

Steve: Speaking of shouting….I AM SO FUCKING TIRED OF HEARING ABOUT DISCO DEMOLITION NIGHT. IT WAS 25 YEARS AGO. THE SECOND GAME OF A DOUBLE HEADER WAS CANCELLED. YOU WOULD THINK IT WAS THE RAPTURE OR THE VIRGIN MARY APPEARED IN THE CENTERFIELD SCOREBOARD EXCEPT NOBODY SAW HER BECAUSE OF THE SMOKE. SHEESH!

Dan: Also, mind you, Piazza was something like 5-for-12 off Clemens with four or so homers before Clemens nailed him in the head. So it wasn’t like Clemens accidentially hit him… he had no desire whatsoever to face him. Clemens remains a redneck asshole, all these years later.

I will submit, however, that perhaps my favorite Clemens memory: back in 1986, before I had genuine hatred for the guy. The Mets had just won the World Series (I’m pretty sure this was after Game 7, not 6) and they cut to Clemens in the dugout, head in hands, weeping. Good for him, that loser asshole baby.

Levi: You know what I bet they won’t show? I bet they won’t show those old Pert Plus ads that Piazza used to do when he had all that great hair.

Thinking about those commercials makes me realize even more clearly how great the ads with Piazza and Alf are: who would have thought that Madison Avenue could top the image of Piazza’s freshly-conditioned hair flowing in slow motion? Yet they did, and they did it by reviving a long-dead rubber-suited Melmackian whom no one had given a thought to in decades.

maura: i dunno, piazza was looking pretty shampoo-ad ready at the press meet and greet yesterday. i wish i could find a photo somewhere…

Dan:http://newyork.mets.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/nym/news/nym_news.jsp?ymd=20040712&content_id=797108&vkey=news_nym&fext=.jsp

I’d hit it.

maura: woo!