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 Fifty-Two: Mark Reynolds, Arizona Diamondbacks
I got one, and didn’t even see it coming. And my, did it ever make my day.
It started with a line drive over the wall. Katie and Chelsea were outside, and I asked if they wanted to hit some balls. “Sure,” Katie said. I took out a half-dozen Wiffle balls and a bat, and Katie stood at the plate. The 8-year-old knocked a few pitches the opposite way, and realized that she could see the ball much better when she kept her back foot in place.
Chelsea followed next, and when she faced the right way, the 5-year-old took some decent swings as well. She even hit one all the way back to her dad. But after a couple of minutes, Chelsea had hit enough.
Now it was my turn. Katie grabbed a few balls and threw me some pitches. I saw one down in my wheelhouse, and just couldn’t help myself – off the little plastic ball went, gliding over the fence like a Mark Reynolds home run out in Arizona. (Last night, the mighty Diamondbacks slugger launched his 15th of the year.) As we watched the ball fly over the wooden fence, Katie and I smiled. Time for a walk around the block.
We took the dog with us and walked together to retrieve the ball from our neighbor’s yard. On the way, we talked about the birthday party Katie had attended earlier in the day. We spoke with a closeness that seemed forged in part by our batting practice in the yard. We had only played ball for a few minutes, and our walk was just as short. But Daddy had pulled himself away from the computer, the grading and the household chores for a while and played some ball with his girls.
So as we turned the corner on our way back home, Katie looked over her shoulder at me. “I love you,” she said.
Bam – a shot to the heart, stronger and more majestic than any home run I’ve ever seen. I told her I loved her, too. We walked together, in the fading sunlight. We were finished playing ball for the night, and it was time for dessert. As for me, I’d received something sweeter than anything we could eat. I got an “I love you.” And I kept it.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Deep-Dish Dreaming (One Sixty-Two: Day 51)
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 Fifty-One: Alfonso Soriano, Chicago Cubs
It’s been a special sports week for the city of Chicago, as the Blackhawks claimed their first Stanley Cup in 49 years Wednesday night against the Philadelphia Flyers. Two million hockey fans lined Michigan Avenue yesterday to toast the Blackhawks’ players and coaches. In the afterglow of this hockey title, the town also remains abuzz with hopes that the Chicago Bulls might lure LeBron James from Cleveland to the Windy City this summer.
As for baseball, it’s shaping up to be a summer of mediocrity in Chicago. The White Sox of the South Side are 8½ games out of first place, while the Cubs of the North Side are 7½ games back. The White Sox will receive more of a pass here since they’re just five years removed from their own championship parade. The Cubs, on the other hand – well, those 102 years without a title do nag at the Wrigley Field faithful just a bit. This generation of Cubs teams was built to follow the lead of outfielder Alfonso Soriano. The lean, sweet-swinging Soriano was signed to a long-term deal after slugging 46 home runs and stealing 41 bases for the Washington Nationals in 2006. While Soriano has hit his share of blasts as a Cub, his power, run-production, speed and run-scoring numbers continued to fall each year from 2007-09.
This season, Soriano’s production has inched up again. He’s got 10 homers already, and he’s driving in more runs than ever as a Cub. He’s not running like he used to, but perhaps the 34-year-old doesn’t have the legs for that anymore. Cubs fans can live without Soriano’s legs; what they need is his heart. They need this seven-time All-Star to lift up his teammates through his actions and words.
Two million people sounds like an awful lot of happiness. But you can’t even imagine the delirium of a Chicago Cubs victory parade. It’s a joy that Alfonso Soriano would like to experience, I’m sure. But he’s going to have to search even deeper for more of his youthful vigor, and send a few more of those moon shots over the left-field bleachers and onto Waveland Avenue.
Maybe while he’s out for some deep-dish pizza, Soriano will bump into a few Blackhawks. Perhaps they’ll let him touch the Stanley Cup. Let some magic wisp its way through the Windy City. The parade is waiting, Alfonso. They’ll crown you king.
Day Fifty-One: Alfonso Soriano, Chicago Cubs
It’s been a special sports week for the city of Chicago, as the Blackhawks claimed their first Stanley Cup in 49 years Wednesday night against the Philadelphia Flyers. Two million hockey fans lined Michigan Avenue yesterday to toast the Blackhawks’ players and coaches. In the afterglow of this hockey title, the town also remains abuzz with hopes that the Chicago Bulls might lure LeBron James from Cleveland to the Windy City this summer.
As for baseball, it’s shaping up to be a summer of mediocrity in Chicago. The White Sox of the South Side are 8½ games out of first place, while the Cubs of the North Side are 7½ games back. The White Sox will receive more of a pass here since they’re just five years removed from their own championship parade. The Cubs, on the other hand – well, those 102 years without a title do nag at the Wrigley Field faithful just a bit. This generation of Cubs teams was built to follow the lead of outfielder Alfonso Soriano. The lean, sweet-swinging Soriano was signed to a long-term deal after slugging 46 home runs and stealing 41 bases for the Washington Nationals in 2006. While Soriano has hit his share of blasts as a Cub, his power, run-production, speed and run-scoring numbers continued to fall each year from 2007-09.
This season, Soriano’s production has inched up again. He’s got 10 homers already, and he’s driving in more runs than ever as a Cub. He’s not running like he used to, but perhaps the 34-year-old doesn’t have the legs for that anymore. Cubs fans can live without Soriano’s legs; what they need is his heart. They need this seven-time All-Star to lift up his teammates through his actions and words.
Two million people sounds like an awful lot of happiness. But you can’t even imagine the delirium of a Chicago Cubs victory parade. It’s a joy that Alfonso Soriano would like to experience, I’m sure. But he’s going to have to search even deeper for more of his youthful vigor, and send a few more of those moon shots over the left-field bleachers and onto Waveland Avenue.
Maybe while he’s out for some deep-dish pizza, Soriano will bump into a few Blackhawks. Perhaps they’ll let him touch the Stanley Cup. Let some magic wisp its way through the Windy City. The parade is waiting, Alfonso. They’ll crown you king.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Waving the Flag (One Sixty-Two: Day 50)
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 Fifty: Mark Teixeira, New York Yankees
And so it begins – one month of frenzied passion, as athletes from around the globe converge in South Africa for the most-watched tournament in sports. As the World Cup kicks into gear today, 32 teams are vying for the ultimate title, to be determined in the World Cup final one month from today. There’s a lot of soc … ahem, football, to be played in the next 30 days, and a lot of amazing plays to be seen along the way.
As I left school today, I saw two students looking at a bracket that one of them had filled out for the tournament. I walked over and took a look. The student had Argentina defeating Brazil in the final – a pretty safe pick, as Argentina has won the tournament twice and Brazil has claimed it a record five times. Since only seven countries have ever won the World Cup, most of the teams in the tournament are playing for their first-ever title. And that makes their fans all the more rabid.
Portugal is one such country with a reputation for success yet an empty World Cup trophy case. Star forward Cristiano Ronaldo will try to take his team to the promised land this year, but with Brazil, the Ivory Coast and North Korea in the same first-round group, just making it to the second round will require serious effort from the Portuguese team.
Outside of Ronaldo, the most famous athlete of Portuguese descent in America is probably New York Yankees first baseman Mark Teixeira. Now in his eighth season as a big-leaguer, Teixeira has already slugged more than 250 home runs and driven in more than 800. The 30-year-old switch-hitter claimed his first championship last year with New York, and he’s won a trio of Gold Glove and Silver Slugger awards.
Teixeira is known for his slow starts. But his 2010 season has been even slower than normal, as he’s hitting only .226 nearly midway through June. At this rate, he won’t come close to meeting his average batting numbers for a full season. The Yankees remain patient, though, penciling his name into the lineup’s No. 3 spot every night.
Perhaps Teixeira was just waiting for the World Cup to get his blood boiling. As Ronaldo and Co. fend off those tough teams in Group G, maybe Teixeira will draw inspiration from his ancestral home and lift some long fly balls to deep right field. Perhaps it will be Portugal’s year, at long last. If by chance it is, there will be a man in pinstripes waving the flag. It’s that time of year.
Day Fifty: Mark Teixeira, New York Yankees
And so it begins – one month of frenzied passion, as athletes from around the globe converge in South Africa for the most-watched tournament in sports. As the World Cup kicks into gear today, 32 teams are vying for the ultimate title, to be determined in the World Cup final one month from today. There’s a lot of soc … ahem, football, to be played in the next 30 days, and a lot of amazing plays to be seen along the way.
As I left school today, I saw two students looking at a bracket that one of them had filled out for the tournament. I walked over and took a look. The student had Argentina defeating Brazil in the final – a pretty safe pick, as Argentina has won the tournament twice and Brazil has claimed it a record five times. Since only seven countries have ever won the World Cup, most of the teams in the tournament are playing for their first-ever title. And that makes their fans all the more rabid.
Portugal is one such country with a reputation for success yet an empty World Cup trophy case. Star forward Cristiano Ronaldo will try to take his team to the promised land this year, but with Brazil, the Ivory Coast and North Korea in the same first-round group, just making it to the second round will require serious effort from the Portuguese team.
Outside of Ronaldo, the most famous athlete of Portuguese descent in America is probably New York Yankees first baseman Mark Teixeira. Now in his eighth season as a big-leaguer, Teixeira has already slugged more than 250 home runs and driven in more than 800. The 30-year-old switch-hitter claimed his first championship last year with New York, and he’s won a trio of Gold Glove and Silver Slugger awards.
Teixeira is known for his slow starts. But his 2010 season has been even slower than normal, as he’s hitting only .226 nearly midway through June. At this rate, he won’t come close to meeting his average batting numbers for a full season. The Yankees remain patient, though, penciling his name into the lineup’s No. 3 spot every night.
Perhaps Teixeira was just waiting for the World Cup to get his blood boiling. As Ronaldo and Co. fend off those tough teams in Group G, maybe Teixeira will draw inspiration from his ancestral home and lift some long fly balls to deep right field. Perhaps it will be Portugal’s year, at long last. If by chance it is, there will be a man in pinstripes waving the flag. It’s that time of year.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Trumpets & Grunts (One Sixty-Two: Day 49)
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 Forty-Nine: Jonathan Broxton, Los Angeles Dodgers
Lights flickering. Water falling. Elephants lifting their trunks and trumpeting. Gorillas beating their chests and grunting. Giant butterflies hanging on the walls. A crocodile catching pennies.
It’s just another night at Rainforest Café, and we stopped in tonight to celebrate Chelsea’s preschool graduation. What better way to relish her preschool diploma than with burgers and make-believe jungle animals? Chelsea and Katie love the place and ask to go whenever a special occasion arises; as for their parents, I think it’s safe to say we prefer a dining atmosphere minus the sound of stampedes. But it was not our night, and Chelsea enjoyed every flicker and sprinkle and grunt.
Eating your dinner in a fake rainforest is, to say the least, disorienting. It’s kind of like stepping up to the plate in the ninth inning against Jonathan Broxton of the Los Angeles Dodgers. You’ve been working hard and concentrating on the field for nearly three hours, you’re behind by a run or two, and now you’ve got to figure out a way to handle nearly 100 miles per hour of hard, country fastball, exploding from the right hand of a 6-foot-4, 295-pound man who’s been sitting in the bullpen all night – just waiting to eat you alive.
Most batters, trained to hit at the highest level baseball knows, cannot touch the man. Throughout his career, Broxton has struck out 12 batters per nine innings. He saved 36 games last year and has already notched 16 saves this season. As he turns 26 next week, Broxton finds himself officially among the elite relief pitchers in the game.
Batters don’t necessarily seek to thrive against Broxton; merely surviving is in some ways a victory. Popping up, for instance, or grounding out. At least you saw something up there.
I’m not sure exactly what I saw at Rainforest Café tonight – I think there was a fake snake involved somewhere, and a lot of live fish. But I did walk out in the end, and I can see straight and hear once again.
Chelsea loved it, as always. Maybe she’s immune to the grunts. And the fastballs. Send her up against Broxton. She can bring the elephant’s trunk with her. Try to throw it past this, Jon. We’ll see who gets to beat their chest in the end.
Day Forty-Nine: Jonathan Broxton, Los Angeles Dodgers
Lights flickering. Water falling. Elephants lifting their trunks and trumpeting. Gorillas beating their chests and grunting. Giant butterflies hanging on the walls. A crocodile catching pennies.
It’s just another night at Rainforest Café, and we stopped in tonight to celebrate Chelsea’s preschool graduation. What better way to relish her preschool diploma than with burgers and make-believe jungle animals? Chelsea and Katie love the place and ask to go whenever a special occasion arises; as for their parents, I think it’s safe to say we prefer a dining atmosphere minus the sound of stampedes. But it was not our night, and Chelsea enjoyed every flicker and sprinkle and grunt.
Eating your dinner in a fake rainforest is, to say the least, disorienting. It’s kind of like stepping up to the plate in the ninth inning against Jonathan Broxton of the Los Angeles Dodgers. You’ve been working hard and concentrating on the field for nearly three hours, you’re behind by a run or two, and now you’ve got to figure out a way to handle nearly 100 miles per hour of hard, country fastball, exploding from the right hand of a 6-foot-4, 295-pound man who’s been sitting in the bullpen all night – just waiting to eat you alive.
Most batters, trained to hit at the highest level baseball knows, cannot touch the man. Throughout his career, Broxton has struck out 12 batters per nine innings. He saved 36 games last year and has already notched 16 saves this season. As he turns 26 next week, Broxton finds himself officially among the elite relief pitchers in the game.
Batters don’t necessarily seek to thrive against Broxton; merely surviving is in some ways a victory. Popping up, for instance, or grounding out. At least you saw something up there.
I’m not sure exactly what I saw at Rainforest Café tonight – I think there was a fake snake involved somewhere, and a lot of live fish. But I did walk out in the end, and I can see straight and hear once again.
Chelsea loved it, as always. Maybe she’s immune to the grunts. And the fastballs. Send her up against Broxton. She can bring the elephant’s trunk with her. Try to throw it past this, Jon. We’ll see who gets to beat their chest in the end.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
The Cardinal Rule (One Sixty-Two: Day 48)
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 Forty-Eight: Skip Schumaker, St. Louis Cardinals
Tomorrow, we’ll watch from our seats as our grown-up girl walks down the aisle, accepts her diploma and moves on to a brand-new stage of school and life.
Chelsea is graduating from preschool.
She has met all the prerequisites – she knows her alphabet, counts to 100, colors in the lines, uses her scissors, and goes to the potty all by herself. It is time for Chelsea to take those skills and add about a thousand more in kindergarten next year.
Perhaps most important of all, though, Chelsea has learned how to share. She knows that she can’t have everything to herself, so she’s willing to give up that purple crayon or that picture book when someone else wants a turn. What’s more, she knows that sharing also brings with it a greater chance of playing with someone else. And playing with others leads to friendships. I’ll take that life lesson over anything else Chelsea has learned so far. I think she gets its value, too.
Skip Schumaker is the starting second baseman for Tony LaRussa’s first-place St. Louis Cardinals. But if you play for LaRussa, and your last name is not Pujols or Holliday, then you’ve learned by now that you’re going to have to share your position a bit. LaRussa likes to mix it up, keeping everyone on their toes by trying new looks in the Cardinals’ lineup.
So yes, Schumaker has played in 54 games at second and batted more than 200 times this year. But he’s also taken a seat on the bench at times while other St. Louis players got a shot at second: Felipe Lopez (who himself shares shortstop with Brendan Ryan), as well as Tyler Greene and Aaron Miles. They’ve got a true second-base “center” over in Busch Stadium, and Skip has done a very nice job of playing nicely with Felipe, Tyler and Aaron. Mr. Tony has even given them extra recess time as a reward.
Chelsea has a whole summer ahead of her, and I can only hope she’ll play as well with her sister as she’s done with her preschool classmates. (Dream on, Dad.) Tomorrow, after her “graduation,” we’ll take a trip over to Rainforest Café for dinner. Inevitably, there will come a point in the meal when I’ll reach over to Chelsea’s plate and ask if I can have a couple of her French fries.
Remember the Cardinal rule, Chelsea: Don’t forget to share, even when Daddy is raiding your own meal. (It’s OK – you’ll get him back. More times than he can imagine.)
Day Forty-Eight: Skip Schumaker, St. Louis Cardinals
Tomorrow, we’ll watch from our seats as our grown-up girl walks down the aisle, accepts her diploma and moves on to a brand-new stage of school and life.
Chelsea is graduating from preschool.
She has met all the prerequisites – she knows her alphabet, counts to 100, colors in the lines, uses her scissors, and goes to the potty all by herself. It is time for Chelsea to take those skills and add about a thousand more in kindergarten next year.
Perhaps most important of all, though, Chelsea has learned how to share. She knows that she can’t have everything to herself, so she’s willing to give up that purple crayon or that picture book when someone else wants a turn. What’s more, she knows that sharing also brings with it a greater chance of playing with someone else. And playing with others leads to friendships. I’ll take that life lesson over anything else Chelsea has learned so far. I think she gets its value, too.
Skip Schumaker is the starting second baseman for Tony LaRussa’s first-place St. Louis Cardinals. But if you play for LaRussa, and your last name is not Pujols or Holliday, then you’ve learned by now that you’re going to have to share your position a bit. LaRussa likes to mix it up, keeping everyone on their toes by trying new looks in the Cardinals’ lineup.
So yes, Schumaker has played in 54 games at second and batted more than 200 times this year. But he’s also taken a seat on the bench at times while other St. Louis players got a shot at second: Felipe Lopez (who himself shares shortstop with Brendan Ryan), as well as Tyler Greene and Aaron Miles. They’ve got a true second-base “center” over in Busch Stadium, and Skip has done a very nice job of playing nicely with Felipe, Tyler and Aaron. Mr. Tony has even given them extra recess time as a reward.
Chelsea has a whole summer ahead of her, and I can only hope she’ll play as well with her sister as she’s done with her preschool classmates. (Dream on, Dad.) Tomorrow, after her “graduation,” we’ll take a trip over to Rainforest Café for dinner. Inevitably, there will come a point in the meal when I’ll reach over to Chelsea’s plate and ask if I can have a couple of her French fries.
Remember the Cardinal rule, Chelsea: Don’t forget to share, even when Daddy is raiding your own meal. (It’s OK – you’ll get him back. More times than he can imagine.)
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
What a Tangled Web We Weave (One Sixty-Two: Day 47)
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 Forty-Seven: Brad Lincoln, Pittsburgh Pirates
I was tempted to turn on my laptop at 6:45 this morning to check my e-mail, my fantasy baseball, and anything else the Internet brought my way. But I decided I needed a simpler, quieter breakfast with a backdrop of birds chirping rather than electronics humming.
I glanced at Monday’s New York Times while starting my bowl of cereal, and there on Page One was a headline that seemed quite fitting to the decision I’d just made: It read “Hooked on Gadgets, and Paying a Mental Price.” The story, by Matt Richtel, focused on technology overload, and the ways in which our attempts to multitask with computers, e-mail, phone calls, iPads, iPods and other assorted media have altered the way we think and behave. In addition, Richtel reports, scientists are finding that the media multitaskers among us struggle to focus.
It’s an article that any adult would do well to read. I was particularly taken by Tara Parker-Pope’s sidebar, titled “Warning Signs of Tech Overload,” when I noticed how many of the signs applied to me. As I think about the degree to which my girls watch and emulate my behavior, this concerned me even more.
But the thrill of information everywhere is so difficult to discard. It is the most tantalizing byproduct of this technological revolution – if we want it, we can find it. And the fact that we can find so much leads us to want to find much more than we would’ve ever thought to look for in generations past. And I’m not sure that helps us in the long run.
So the Pittsburgh Pirates apparently are considering a promotion for their top pitching prospect, a young man named Brad Lincoln. With all the hype over Stephen Strasburg’s debut with the Washington Nationals tonight, you might think that Mr. Lincoln would be overshadowed, with little information about him as the team considers starting him tomorrow.
But oh, how wrong you’d be. Just a quick Google search brings us the following: News stories on Brad Lincoln from ESPN.com, MLB.com, The Associated Press, USA Today and the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette; scouting reports and statistics from Baseball-Reference.com, Yahoo! Sports, CBS Sports and Rotoworld.com; blurbs from Pirates fan sites (“Raise the Jolly Roger” and “Bucco Fans,” to name a couple); Lincoln’s biography on the University of Houston athletics department’s site; and, of course, a Wikipedia entry.
So if you were somehow addicted to both baseball and technology (a combination that I’ve heard something about), you could literally spend hours reading stories about a 25-year-old man who has not yet thrown a single pitch in the major leagues. Hours.
He’s supposed to be a good one, it’s true. And it’s cool to have the opportunity to read about him. But, as Richtel’s story tells us, there are an awful lot of us reading an awful lot of things these days on-line – and we’re having trouble looking away.
Yet those birds, man – they’re chirping. They sounded beautiful this morning. I gave them 15 minutes, felt at ease, and then rushed off to work. The computer went on, and here it is still, 15 hours later.
Tonight, I‘ve gained more knowledge about Brad Lincoln. But what have I lost along the way?
Day Forty-Seven: Brad Lincoln, Pittsburgh Pirates
I was tempted to turn on my laptop at 6:45 this morning to check my e-mail, my fantasy baseball, and anything else the Internet brought my way. But I decided I needed a simpler, quieter breakfast with a backdrop of birds chirping rather than electronics humming.
I glanced at Monday’s New York Times while starting my bowl of cereal, and there on Page One was a headline that seemed quite fitting to the decision I’d just made: It read “Hooked on Gadgets, and Paying a Mental Price.” The story, by Matt Richtel, focused on technology overload, and the ways in which our attempts to multitask with computers, e-mail, phone calls, iPads, iPods and other assorted media have altered the way we think and behave. In addition, Richtel reports, scientists are finding that the media multitaskers among us struggle to focus.
It’s an article that any adult would do well to read. I was particularly taken by Tara Parker-Pope’s sidebar, titled “Warning Signs of Tech Overload,” when I noticed how many of the signs applied to me. As I think about the degree to which my girls watch and emulate my behavior, this concerned me even more.
But the thrill of information everywhere is so difficult to discard. It is the most tantalizing byproduct of this technological revolution – if we want it, we can find it. And the fact that we can find so much leads us to want to find much more than we would’ve ever thought to look for in generations past. And I’m not sure that helps us in the long run.
So the Pittsburgh Pirates apparently are considering a promotion for their top pitching prospect, a young man named Brad Lincoln. With all the hype over Stephen Strasburg’s debut with the Washington Nationals tonight, you might think that Mr. Lincoln would be overshadowed, with little information about him as the team considers starting him tomorrow.
But oh, how wrong you’d be. Just a quick Google search brings us the following: News stories on Brad Lincoln from ESPN.com, MLB.com, The Associated Press, USA Today and the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette; scouting reports and statistics from Baseball-Reference.com, Yahoo! Sports, CBS Sports and Rotoworld.com; blurbs from Pirates fan sites (“Raise the Jolly Roger” and “Bucco Fans,” to name a couple); Lincoln’s biography on the University of Houston athletics department’s site; and, of course, a Wikipedia entry.
So if you were somehow addicted to both baseball and technology (a combination that I’ve heard something about), you could literally spend hours reading stories about a 25-year-old man who has not yet thrown a single pitch in the major leagues. Hours.
He’s supposed to be a good one, it’s true. And it’s cool to have the opportunity to read about him. But, as Richtel’s story tells us, there are an awful lot of us reading an awful lot of things these days on-line – and we’re having trouble looking away.
Yet those birds, man – they’re chirping. They sounded beautiful this morning. I gave them 15 minutes, felt at ease, and then rushed off to work. The computer went on, and here it is still, 15 hours later.
Tonight, I‘ve gained more knowledge about Brad Lincoln. But what have I lost along the way?
Monday, June 7, 2010
From Wizard to Whiz Kid (One Sixty-Two: Day 46)
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 Forty-Six: Stephen Strasburg, Washington Nationals
It’s a scintillating time for sports, with more events to cover than newspapers can handle. This weekend offered fans a choice of watching the French Open tennis finals, the Belmont Stakes horse race, a boxing match in Yankee Stadium, the Stanley Cup Finals or the NBA Finals. Later this week, the World Cup men’s soccer tournament begins in South Africa. Major League Baseball began its amateur draft today. And, to top it off, legendary NCAA basketball coach John Wooden died on Friday at age 99.
It is not surprising that the coverage of Wooden’s death eclipsed all of the live events this weekend. This man was more than a 10-time national champion at UCLA, more than the most successful college basketball coach in history. Those who have listened to or read Wooden’s words have learned so much about life from the man, and this weekend they wanted to take some time to honor him in any way possible. In a sports world full of me-first athletes, the loss of Wooden brought us all back to the lessons of teamwork and humility that this "Wizard of Westwood" worked so hard to teach.
ESPN.com compiled a list of “Woodenisms” on its Web site. Reading them felt a lot like flipping through the pages of Thoreau or Emerson. "Be more concerned with your character than your reputation,” Wooden said, “because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are."
Another: "Don't measure yourself by what you have accomplished, but by what you should have accomplished with your ability."
And still another: "Talent is God-given. Be humble. Fame is man-given. Be grateful. Conceit is self-given. Be careful."
Tomorrow, the biggest story in sports will take place in Washington, D.C., when Nationals rookie pitcher Stephen Strasburg takes the mound for the first time as a major-leaguer. Blessed with a 100-mile-per-hour fastball, Strasburg has dominated every level of minor-league ball since the Nationals drafted him with the first pick in last year’s amateur draft. Tomorrow, the 21-year-old’s big-league journey begins.
Television cameras will follow Strasburg’s every move. But if Wooden were still with us, he’d remind Strasburg to focus on his team, not his own spotlight. "The main ingredient of stardom is the rest of the team," the great coach once said.
Wooden would remind Strasburg to pay attention to more than that fastball. He’d suggest working just as hard on character development, perseverance, humility and gratitude, no matter how many lights are shining on you in that clubhouse.
Because at the end of the day, it’s the way you live outside of the sporting arena that matters most of all. Soccer, basketball, hockey, tennis, baseball – whatever the sport, the story’s the same. "It isn't what you do,” John Wooden said, “but how you do it."
Good luck, Stephen. In more than just the game.
Day Forty-Six: Stephen Strasburg, Washington Nationals
It’s a scintillating time for sports, with more events to cover than newspapers can handle. This weekend offered fans a choice of watching the French Open tennis finals, the Belmont Stakes horse race, a boxing match in Yankee Stadium, the Stanley Cup Finals or the NBA Finals. Later this week, the World Cup men’s soccer tournament begins in South Africa. Major League Baseball began its amateur draft today. And, to top it off, legendary NCAA basketball coach John Wooden died on Friday at age 99.
It is not surprising that the coverage of Wooden’s death eclipsed all of the live events this weekend. This man was more than a 10-time national champion at UCLA, more than the most successful college basketball coach in history. Those who have listened to or read Wooden’s words have learned so much about life from the man, and this weekend they wanted to take some time to honor him in any way possible. In a sports world full of me-first athletes, the loss of Wooden brought us all back to the lessons of teamwork and humility that this "Wizard of Westwood" worked so hard to teach.
ESPN.com compiled a list of “Woodenisms” on its Web site. Reading them felt a lot like flipping through the pages of Thoreau or Emerson. "Be more concerned with your character than your reputation,” Wooden said, “because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are."
Another: "Don't measure yourself by what you have accomplished, but by what you should have accomplished with your ability."
And still another: "Talent is God-given. Be humble. Fame is man-given. Be grateful. Conceit is self-given. Be careful."
Tomorrow, the biggest story in sports will take place in Washington, D.C., when Nationals rookie pitcher Stephen Strasburg takes the mound for the first time as a major-leaguer. Blessed with a 100-mile-per-hour fastball, Strasburg has dominated every level of minor-league ball since the Nationals drafted him with the first pick in last year’s amateur draft. Tomorrow, the 21-year-old’s big-league journey begins.
Television cameras will follow Strasburg’s every move. But if Wooden were still with us, he’d remind Strasburg to focus on his team, not his own spotlight. "The main ingredient of stardom is the rest of the team," the great coach once said.
Wooden would remind Strasburg to pay attention to more than that fastball. He’d suggest working just as hard on character development, perseverance, humility and gratitude, no matter how many lights are shining on you in that clubhouse.
Because at the end of the day, it’s the way you live outside of the sporting arena that matters most of all. Soccer, basketball, hockey, tennis, baseball – whatever the sport, the story’s the same. "It isn't what you do,” John Wooden said, “but how you do it."
Good luck, Stephen. In more than just the game.
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