Writer’s note: One Sixty-Two is a season-long series of blog posts connecting baseball’s major-league players to life’s universal themes. Just as there are 162 games in a season, so there will be 162 posts in this series. Let’s play some ball.
Day One Hundred-Two: James McDonald, Pittsburgh Pirates
When we brought our dog home five months ago, we named her Daisy. A more fitting name would have been Elmer Fudd.
Throughout this summer – both at our own house and at my parents’ home – there has been an abundance of rabbits in the backyard. Daisy, like most dogs, is fascinated by any animal smaller than her. But as a golden retriever, she is trained to carry dead birds to her owners. Today, during a walk, she lifted up a dead bird with her mouth and turned to me. “No!” I said sharply, and she dropped the bird gently to the ground.
But as for rabbits, well, I honestly think Daisy is either secretly afraid of them or rather sympathetic toward them. I say this because her percentage of “wabbit” kills is in line with that of Mr. Fudd.
When she sees the rabbit, her eyes open wide and her muscles grow taut. She takes a quick first step toward the bunny, appears to have a shot at the animal and then – for reasons she cannot explain to me – Daisy hesitates. Her stutter-step gives the rabbit just enough time to dart through a hole in the fence and into safety. Daisy arrives a second too late, every time, and spends the next 15 minutes staring intently through the fence at the one that got away.
“You’ll get ‘em next time, Daisy,” we say to her. She’s the Brooklyn Dodgers of rabbit-hunters: Always falling short, only to hope that she’ll be a step faster the next time.
Of course, the Dodgers did have 1955. There was a year when the hope was rewarded with a championship. Daisy may have her day, too. For the rabbits’ sake, I certainly hope not. I was never one to root for Elmer Fudd over Bugs Bunny.
The Pittsburgh Pirates have felt like a bunch of Elmer Fudds and Brooklyn Dodgers over the past two decades, with the main difference being that Fudd and the Dodgers actually came close to attaining success. As I wrote in a blog post last fall (http://thepitchbaseballlife.blogspot.com/2009/09/beauty-and-bucs.html), and as Sports Illustrated’s L. Jon Wertheim wrote a few weeks ago, there is a huge disparity between the majestic beauty of the Pirates’ home stadium and the gross ugliness of the baseball that has been played in that park. The Pirates’ struggles predate the 2001 opening of PNC Park by nearly a decade, as they now hold the longest losing streak in the history of major North American team sports. A game in this stadium, with its backdrop of rivers, bridges and skylines, is worth every penny. Unfortunately, this year’s Pirates will become the 18th straight Pittsburgh team to finish with a sub-.500 record.
As usual, the Pirates traded away veterans at this year’s trading deadline. But unlike years past, when Pittsburgh was criticized for accepting mediocre prospects for their veteran players, the Pirates picked up a couple of talented youngsters when they dealt their closer, Octavio Dotel, to the Los Angeles Dodgers. One of those prospects, pitcher James McDonald, will start for the Pirates this week. Pittsburgh also managed to send a few veterans past their prime to the Arizona Diamondbacks in exchange for a very serviceable catcher, Chris Snyder.
Add this to the small group of superb young players on the Pirates’ team – Andrew McCutchen, Pedro Alvarez, Neil Walker – and there is at least something there. The Pirates are not going to start winning division titles next year. But the team claims it is working hard to spend its money wisely, trying to build a contender despite its small-market status. If this is true, then there might just be a year in this next decade when the people of Pittsburgh finally get to follow a pennant race. With the rabbit in sight, the boys in black and gold will try to do what my dog cannot – make a full sprint toward their goal, with no acceptance of failure this time. It’s got to happen someday. Next year can’t last forever.
Showing posts with label Octavio Dotel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Octavio Dotel. Show all posts
Monday, August 2, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Sing it, Sister (One Sixty-Two: Day 12)
Writer’s note: One Sixty-Two is a season-long series of blog posts connecting baseball’s major-league players to life’s universal themes. Just as there are 162 games in a season, so there will be 162 posts in this series. Let’s play some ball.
Day Twelve: Octavio Dotel, Pittsburgh Pirates
It was a beautiful Monday night in May, and the family decided to meet up for dinner. My parents drove up from the Jersey Shore, my brother hopped over the bridge from Brooklyn, and Amy, the girls and I hustled over from central Jersey. Our meeting place was one of New York City’s premier pizzerias: Joe & Pat’s of Staten Island.
We devoured the house salad, with its sprinkling of red peppers and its heavy dose of Italian dressing. We congratulated my brother, Eric, on finishing his master’s degree, and showered Katie with praises for her second-grade report card. After the salad, our waitress brought us two large-cheese pies, with their thin crusts, delightfully sweet sauce, and tender cheese. This is the same pizza we would eat with my grandfather when we’d take him out for lunch in his later years. On this night, the pies were gone before we could finish catching up on one another’s lives.
The night was young enough that we could all drive a couple miles north to Ralph’s Ices, where we’d treat ourselves to some delicious fruit ices at one of the oldest Italian ice shops in New York City. I hopped in Eric’s car for the short trip from Joe & Pat’s to Ralph’s. As we talked, I kept waiting for the conversation to turn to baseball – fantasy leagues, Yankees, anything. But on this night, we had so much more to converse about – summer plans, our own writing, the new job a friend has taken in a Brooklyn school, and the upcoming christening of another friend’s daughter.
It felt rich and rewarding, for all of us to spend this time together and for my brother and I to shift our conversation away from baseball for a night. Of course, as the girls neared the ends of their ices, Eric and I finally broke down. We started talking about Pirates reliever Octavio Dotel, and whether we can rely on him for our joint fantasy baseball team. We gave it about a minute of talk and thought, then moved on to something else. Chelsea wanted Eric to see her new tattoo, and Katie wanted to drive back to our house with her grandparents.
It was time to go. The night had been sweet. And while Octavio Dotel might not know it, his current team once had a theme song some 30 years ago: Sister Sledge’s “We Are Family.” The song had a much different context inside the 1979 Pirates locker room than it did for an evening of pizza in 2010. But its overall message – sure, it was just the same.
Day Twelve: Octavio Dotel, Pittsburgh Pirates
It was a beautiful Monday night in May, and the family decided to meet up for dinner. My parents drove up from the Jersey Shore, my brother hopped over the bridge from Brooklyn, and Amy, the girls and I hustled over from central Jersey. Our meeting place was one of New York City’s premier pizzerias: Joe & Pat’s of Staten Island.
We devoured the house salad, with its sprinkling of red peppers and its heavy dose of Italian dressing. We congratulated my brother, Eric, on finishing his master’s degree, and showered Katie with praises for her second-grade report card. After the salad, our waitress brought us two large-cheese pies, with their thin crusts, delightfully sweet sauce, and tender cheese. This is the same pizza we would eat with my grandfather when we’d take him out for lunch in his later years. On this night, the pies were gone before we could finish catching up on one another’s lives.
The night was young enough that we could all drive a couple miles north to Ralph’s Ices, where we’d treat ourselves to some delicious fruit ices at one of the oldest Italian ice shops in New York City. I hopped in Eric’s car for the short trip from Joe & Pat’s to Ralph’s. As we talked, I kept waiting for the conversation to turn to baseball – fantasy leagues, Yankees, anything. But on this night, we had so much more to converse about – summer plans, our own writing, the new job a friend has taken in a Brooklyn school, and the upcoming christening of another friend’s daughter.
It felt rich and rewarding, for all of us to spend this time together and for my brother and I to shift our conversation away from baseball for a night. Of course, as the girls neared the ends of their ices, Eric and I finally broke down. We started talking about Pirates reliever Octavio Dotel, and whether we can rely on him for our joint fantasy baseball team. We gave it about a minute of talk and thought, then moved on to something else. Chelsea wanted Eric to see her new tattoo, and Katie wanted to drive back to our house with her grandparents.
It was time to go. The night had been sweet. And while Octavio Dotel might not know it, his current team once had a theme song some 30 years ago: Sister Sledge’s “We Are Family.” The song had a much different context inside the 1979 Pirates locker room than it did for an evening of pizza in 2010. But its overall message – sure, it was just the same.
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