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 Fifty-One: Jason Heyward, Atlanta Braves (via Bobby Cox – and the Whale)
“Hast seen the White Whale?”
It’s either appropriate or insane that during the same summer in which I undertook 162 blog entries in 162 days, I also decided to read Moby-Dick. What, an English teacher who had never read Herman Melville’s Great American Novel? Indeed, guilty as charged.
But no longer. While I still have a week and a half left of the blog series, I did finish Moby-Dick last night – all 654 dense pages of her. It’s a fascinating book, from its detailed description of whales, whaling and nautical life, to its thrilling account of Captain Ahab’s pursuit of the mighty white whale.
In the 159 years since the novel’s publication, countless scholars have analyzed Moby-Dick to explore its structure and meaning. Most notably, readers have wondered just what Ahab and the whale symbolize. Do they represent greed? Good and evil? Race? Religion? Nature and humanity? Fate? Life itself? Or something else entirely?
These varied interpretations serve only to make this epic novel that much more interesting. I’ve spent the past two months reading the book, and now that I’m finished I can say that I know exactly what Ahab’s quest was meant to symbolize.
It was all about Bobby Cox.
Ahab was a whaling man for 40 years. Cox, the legendary Atlanta Braves manager, is in his 40th year as either a manager, coach or general manager. His next win will be the 2,500th of his career. Only three other major-league managers have won more. Cox and Joe Torre share the record for most playoff appearances by a manager, with an astounding 15.
There is no question that when Bobby Cox retires at the end of this season, as he has announced he will do, he will quickly find himself inducted into the Hall of Fame. But there’s another piece to this man’s managerial record, and this is the part where we find Ahab and the whale. Of those managers who have made the playoffs eight or more times, all have won multiple championships – except Bobby Cox. A manager like the Yankees’ Joe Girardi, now in just his fourth season as a skipper, has won as many titles as the 69-year-old Cox, who has 29 seasons as a manager under his belt.
It has been all of 15 years since Bobby Cox’s Atlanta Braves won their sole championship under his reign. That’s the equivalent of five 19th-century whaling voyages. You age an awful lot in 15 years, and your thirst for another sight of the white whale only grows fiercer. It’s no wonder that Bobby Cox has been ejected from 158 games as manager – far more than any other skipper in history. You blow a lot of fuses when you push onward with such passion in your quest for another baseball title.
So as young sailors such as right fielder Jason Heyward man the mast-head and sharpen their harpoons, Cox paces the deck and sets sail toward the equator. His Braves are currently 2½ games ahead in the National League Wild Card race. With just two weeks to go, Cox can taste that record 16th postseason appearance. If and when he gets there, the legendary skipper will have one last chance to claim that second title.
It’s been a long, long journey since Bobby Cox first captained a ship. He’s about ready to quit and go home, something Captain Ahab was never willing to do. But before he gets back to his own Nantucket, Cox is about to get one last shot at his ultimate goal. All signs indicate that he’s ready.
“Hast seen the White Whale?” you ask. Indeed, Bobby – there she blows! Man the deck, and lower the boats. You’ve got one more pass at the mighty beast.
Showing posts with label Joe Torre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joe Torre. Show all posts
Monday, September 20, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Second Halves (One Sixty-Two: Day 84)
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 Eighty-Four: Adam Lind, Toronto Blue Jays
As I inch ever closer to age 40, it has come to my attention that I may be in the All-Star Break of my life. That is, the first half of my own season may be in the books, with a second half just getting under way. It’s kind of a frightening prospect, but one that I can’t deny. After all, the average life expectancy for American males is 75, and I have definitely passed the halfway point toward that number.
As my generation chugs into its collective All-Star Break, I see and hear a lot of folks taking stock of their past – attending reunions, playing their favorite ‘80s pop songs, and spending time with family. But conspicuous as the gray hairs may be for some of us, this is no time to despair over the passing of time. The season is long, and second halves can be even better than the first.
Take Rosa Parks, for instance. She was 42 when she changed the world, then spent the next 50 years furthering the movement she’d helped to start. Or how about Frank McCourt: Rather than kicking back after retiring from a fabulous teaching career, McCourt won a Pulitzer Prize for Angela’s Ashes at age 67. Morgan Freeman was an actor best known for theater, a soap opera and a kids’ show until he picked up an Oscar nomination for Driving Miss Daisy at age 52; he earned his most recent nomination last year, at 73. And Joe Torre had an excellent, if not Hall-of-Fame-worthy playing career until he took a job managing the New York Yankees at age 56. Fourteen years, four championships and 13 playoff appearances later, Torre is a sure-fire Hall of Famer now.
Second halves can make all the difference. In the smaller time frame of a baseball season, some players post extraordinary first-half numbers, only to fade in the dog days of summer. Others struggle in the first half, only to kick their games into another gear as summer begins its second month.
Adam Lind turned the baseball world on its head last year. He had known modest success as a part-time player from 2006-08, delivering a total of 22 homers and 94 runs batted in over that time frame. Last year, in his first season as a full-time player for the Blue Jays, Lind became one of the American League’s premier hitters: He hit 35 home runs, drove in 114 runs, and posted a .305 batting average. Few people saw it coming, but everyone took note of Lind’s tremendous improvement.
This season, however, has been a different story. After 86 games, Lind is hitting just .214, with 12 homers and 40 RBI. Lind is on his way to one of the highest strikeout totals in major-league history. And yet, Toronto’s manager, Cito Gaston, keeps putting the left-handed designated hitter into his lineup each day. This shows confidence, and I’m sure it means a lot to Lind. As the second half of the 2010 season begins, Adam Lind is clearly looking for a return to last year’s success.
It’s a long season, and sometimes three or four days off in the middle of July can make all the difference. Players clear their heads, rest their aches and pains, and get some sleep in their own beds. They return to the diamond feeling new again, and they look to the second half with optimism. In some cases, they do deliver tremendous second halves, and all of those early woes are forgotten.
Adam Lind is looking for that kind of change as he gets re-started tomorrow. And on Saturday, Lind turns 27 – still well into his own life’s first half, one would hope. But for the game he plays for a living, Lind is looking to pull a Frank McCourt, a Morgan Freeman, and a Joe Torre all in one. There’s plenty of time to craft a second half to remember. Now’s the time to start.
Day Eighty-Four: Adam Lind, Toronto Blue Jays
As I inch ever closer to age 40, it has come to my attention that I may be in the All-Star Break of my life. That is, the first half of my own season may be in the books, with a second half just getting under way. It’s kind of a frightening prospect, but one that I can’t deny. After all, the average life expectancy for American males is 75, and I have definitely passed the halfway point toward that number.
As my generation chugs into its collective All-Star Break, I see and hear a lot of folks taking stock of their past – attending reunions, playing their favorite ‘80s pop songs, and spending time with family. But conspicuous as the gray hairs may be for some of us, this is no time to despair over the passing of time. The season is long, and second halves can be even better than the first.
Take Rosa Parks, for instance. She was 42 when she changed the world, then spent the next 50 years furthering the movement she’d helped to start. Or how about Frank McCourt: Rather than kicking back after retiring from a fabulous teaching career, McCourt won a Pulitzer Prize for Angela’s Ashes at age 67. Morgan Freeman was an actor best known for theater, a soap opera and a kids’ show until he picked up an Oscar nomination for Driving Miss Daisy at age 52; he earned his most recent nomination last year, at 73. And Joe Torre had an excellent, if not Hall-of-Fame-worthy playing career until he took a job managing the New York Yankees at age 56. Fourteen years, four championships and 13 playoff appearances later, Torre is a sure-fire Hall of Famer now.
Second halves can make all the difference. In the smaller time frame of a baseball season, some players post extraordinary first-half numbers, only to fade in the dog days of summer. Others struggle in the first half, only to kick their games into another gear as summer begins its second month.
Adam Lind turned the baseball world on its head last year. He had known modest success as a part-time player from 2006-08, delivering a total of 22 homers and 94 runs batted in over that time frame. Last year, in his first season as a full-time player for the Blue Jays, Lind became one of the American League’s premier hitters: He hit 35 home runs, drove in 114 runs, and posted a .305 batting average. Few people saw it coming, but everyone took note of Lind’s tremendous improvement.
This season, however, has been a different story. After 86 games, Lind is hitting just .214, with 12 homers and 40 RBI. Lind is on his way to one of the highest strikeout totals in major-league history. And yet, Toronto’s manager, Cito Gaston, keeps putting the left-handed designated hitter into his lineup each day. This shows confidence, and I’m sure it means a lot to Lind. As the second half of the 2010 season begins, Adam Lind is clearly looking for a return to last year’s success.
It’s a long season, and sometimes three or four days off in the middle of July can make all the difference. Players clear their heads, rest their aches and pains, and get some sleep in their own beds. They return to the diamond feeling new again, and they look to the second half with optimism. In some cases, they do deliver tremendous second halves, and all of those early woes are forgotten.
Adam Lind is looking for that kind of change as he gets re-started tomorrow. And on Saturday, Lind turns 27 – still well into his own life’s first half, one would hope. But for the game he plays for a living, Lind is looking to pull a Frank McCourt, a Morgan Freeman, and a Joe Torre all in one. There’s plenty of time to craft a second half to remember. Now’s the time to start.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Turtle Out of Water (One Sixty-Two: Day 66)
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 Sixty-Six: Andre Ethier, Los Angeles Dodgers
We inched our canoe up to theirs, the two boys calling to us with wild-eyed wonder. Their father seemed pretty excited, too. They were pointing to the back of their canoe, imploring us to take a look. When we’d pulled up next to them, we looked inside and there it was – a beautiful brown turtle, no bigger than a shoe box.
I was out with my wife and girls for a Father’s Day treat at the Cranford Canoe Club, a legendary canoe -rental facility in central Jersey. The club dates back to the days in the early 20th century when canoe clubs were all the rage around here. Cranford, with numerous backyards abutting the Rahway River, was once referred to as the “Venice of New Jersey.”
It was a delightful two hours on the placid Rahway, paddling our way along while dragonflies followed us, fish swam around us, birds chirped at us and a deer glanced over her shoulder while eating on the river bank. But before we get too comfortable, let’s get back to that turtle for a second. When they called us over to their canoe, the boys and their father said they were planning to bring the turtle home as a pet. We nodded our heads and paddled on, knowing that the folks at the canoe club would not be letting these guys walk out of their boat with any pet turtles.
The turtle belonged in the water. Seeing him in some tank in a suburban bedroom would be all wrong. Seeing him trying desperately to climb out of the canoe was bad enough. Sometimes, you need to stay in your native environment.
Watching Joe Torre wearing a Dodgers uniform this weekend felt a little like watching that turtle inside the canoe. Torre looks like a New Yorker, he speaks like a New Yorker, and he did more to bring the Yankees back to prominence than anyone else in the past 15 years. His departure from New York after the 2007 season has been well-documented, and there’s no need to re-hash it here. Joe Girardi has led the Yankees to a world championship as manager, and New York has not fallen apart since Torre left.
Still, some people just don’t look right when they’re away from home. When the Yankees visited the Dodgers this weekend for an interleague series, Torre wore the interlocking “LA” on his cap while the visiting team sported that interlocking “NY.” His team did just fine, going after the Yankees with playoff intensity. Torre has led his club to the postseason each of the past two years, and L.A. is in the thick of another pennant race in 2010. But there are other men on this team who look much more the Southern California type than Torre does.
Take right fielder Andre Ethier, for example. Born in Phoenix, Ethier has that West Coast look – the curly locks dangling from behind his blue cap, the long sideburns, the on-again, off-again beard. Of course, it’s just a look – there’s nothing relaxed about Ethier’s effort on the field, as he’s quickly become the Dodgers’ premier clutch hitter.
But when you watch Ethier suit up for a game on another gorgeous night in Chavez Ravine, he looks like a player who’d be very comfortable hanging out on Venice Beach during an off-day. As for Torre, he looks like a man who’s dying for a decent slice of pizza and a copy of the New York Daily News.
Joe Torre has proven, to anyone who didn’t believe it, that his managerial magic extends beyond the South Bronx. He is holding together a franchise with serious ownership issues and gearing Los Angeles for another run at a division title. I hope he succeeds, and then I hope he gets out of Dodger blue this autumn.
Venice Beach is no more suited to Torre than that canoe was to the turtle we saw last week. Get that turtle back into the Venice of New Jersey; bring Torre back to the City That Never Sleeps. There’s a No. 6 to retire, and a lot of fans who never got to say goodbye.
Day Sixty-Six: Andre Ethier, Los Angeles Dodgers
We inched our canoe up to theirs, the two boys calling to us with wild-eyed wonder. Their father seemed pretty excited, too. They were pointing to the back of their canoe, imploring us to take a look. When we’d pulled up next to them, we looked inside and there it was – a beautiful brown turtle, no bigger than a shoe box.
I was out with my wife and girls for a Father’s Day treat at the Cranford Canoe Club, a legendary canoe -rental facility in central Jersey. The club dates back to the days in the early 20th century when canoe clubs were all the rage around here. Cranford, with numerous backyards abutting the Rahway River, was once referred to as the “Venice of New Jersey.”
It was a delightful two hours on the placid Rahway, paddling our way along while dragonflies followed us, fish swam around us, birds chirped at us and a deer glanced over her shoulder while eating on the river bank. But before we get too comfortable, let’s get back to that turtle for a second. When they called us over to their canoe, the boys and their father said they were planning to bring the turtle home as a pet. We nodded our heads and paddled on, knowing that the folks at the canoe club would not be letting these guys walk out of their boat with any pet turtles.
The turtle belonged in the water. Seeing him in some tank in a suburban bedroom would be all wrong. Seeing him trying desperately to climb out of the canoe was bad enough. Sometimes, you need to stay in your native environment.
Watching Joe Torre wearing a Dodgers uniform this weekend felt a little like watching that turtle inside the canoe. Torre looks like a New Yorker, he speaks like a New Yorker, and he did more to bring the Yankees back to prominence than anyone else in the past 15 years. His departure from New York after the 2007 season has been well-documented, and there’s no need to re-hash it here. Joe Girardi has led the Yankees to a world championship as manager, and New York has not fallen apart since Torre left.
Still, some people just don’t look right when they’re away from home. When the Yankees visited the Dodgers this weekend for an interleague series, Torre wore the interlocking “LA” on his cap while the visiting team sported that interlocking “NY.” His team did just fine, going after the Yankees with playoff intensity. Torre has led his club to the postseason each of the past two years, and L.A. is in the thick of another pennant race in 2010. But there are other men on this team who look much more the Southern California type than Torre does.
Take right fielder Andre Ethier, for example. Born in Phoenix, Ethier has that West Coast look – the curly locks dangling from behind his blue cap, the long sideburns, the on-again, off-again beard. Of course, it’s just a look – there’s nothing relaxed about Ethier’s effort on the field, as he’s quickly become the Dodgers’ premier clutch hitter.
But when you watch Ethier suit up for a game on another gorgeous night in Chavez Ravine, he looks like a player who’d be very comfortable hanging out on Venice Beach during an off-day. As for Torre, he looks like a man who’s dying for a decent slice of pizza and a copy of the New York Daily News.
Joe Torre has proven, to anyone who didn’t believe it, that his managerial magic extends beyond the South Bronx. He is holding together a franchise with serious ownership issues and gearing Los Angeles for another run at a division title. I hope he succeeds, and then I hope he gets out of Dodger blue this autumn.
Venice Beach is no more suited to Torre than that canoe was to the turtle we saw last week. Get that turtle back into the Venice of New Jersey; bring Torre back to the City That Never Sleeps. There’s a No. 6 to retire, and a lot of fans who never got to say goodbye.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Let's Play Some Ball
They asked me to write a baseball preview for the school newspaper back in my sophomore year of college. I had earned that job because, in a writers’ poll the year before, I had chosen the Cincinnati Reds to win the 1990 World Series. I was a big Lou Piniella fan, and he had taken over as Reds manager. In October of ‘90, my colleagues at the paper weren’t the only ones surprised that I had gotten this pick right – the entire baseball world watched in amazement as the Reds swept an Oakland A’s team that seemed nearly flawless.
So in 1991, as I penned my baseball preview, I felt it my responsibility to make another surprise pick. I liked the young talent on the Chicago White Sox, so I chose them to defeat the also young and talented Montreal Expos in the World Series.
That didn’t happen.
However … it did start a trend in my April baseball picks – I began falling in love with teams that were filled with young talent. And, inevitably, I was a year or two early in predicting these teams’ postseason success. It wasn’t 1991 that the White Sox made it back to the playoffs, but 1993. It wasn’t ’91 that Montreal made its big move, but 1994, a season that never saw the playoffs due to the absence of a labor agreement.
I gushed over the Milwaukee Brewers in 2005, ’06 and ’07, only to see them make the playoffs in ’08. I liked the Oakland A’s in ’05, but they made the American League Championship Series in 2006. I chose the Cleveland Indians to make the World Series in ’06, yet it was the following year that saw them come within a game of the Fall Classic. I picked the Phillies to make the World Series in ’07, only to see them win it in ’08. I picked the Mets to win it all last year, so that’s good news for the guys in Queens.
And so, as baseball’s regular season begins tonight, I present you with my picks for this year. As you read, I’d suggest you pencil these teams in for 2010.
American League: It seems that the New York Yankees will do whatever is needed to win the American League East this year, even if that means paying Sandy Koufax to find a fountain of youth and return to the mound. I’ll pick the Yanks for the division, with the Tampa Bay Rays and their scintillating young talent edging out the Boston Red Sox for the wild card. In the AL Central, I think the Detroit Tigers are the most professional ballclub in an evenly matched division, with the Indians right behind them and the Kansas City Royals paving the way for a return to postseason play in 2010. In the West, I am concerned about injuries to the Los Angeles Angels’ pitching rotation, but in a weak division I imagine they’ll trade for pitching if they need to do so. It is possible, however, that the Texas Rangers will be a much stronger team than most are predicting they will be. I like the Yankees defeating the Tigers in the Division Series, and the Angels outpitching the Rays. In the ALCS, I see the Yankees exorcising some demons by finally defeating the Angels.
National League: The Mets and Phillies both have tremendous ballclubs this year, and therefore they will both make the playoffs. I see the gritty, confident Phillies edging out New York for the division crown, but with both teams being well aware by mid-September that they’re playoff-bound. In the NL Central, the Chicago Cubs have tremendous pitching coupled with weaknesses in their lineup, but it will be enough to hold off the Brewers or whoever lands in second place. In the NL West, the Los Angeles Dodgers and Arizona Diamondbacks will duel it out in a very tight race, with the Rockies making some noise back in third place. But the Dodgers are just too talented a team, and if pitching is a problem, they’ll make the necessary moves as the season ensues. I like the Dodgers over the Mets in a classic Division Series matchup, and the Cubs edging out the Phillies in another close contest. The Dodgers will be far too much for the Cubs to handle in a seven-game championship series, putting Joe Torre’s group in the Series.
What a matchup: Yankees versus Dodgers; Torre versus the club he managed to four titles. The two historic franchises will meet in the World Series for the first time in 28 years, and they will be so evenly matched that the series can’t help but go seven. The Dodgers’ young players will find intestinal fortitude they never knew they had, and Torre will keep them calm amidst the nerve-wracking intensity of the Fall Classic. Matt Kemp will provide the big blow for Los Angeles in Game Seven, and the City of Angels will place a permanent halo over Torre’s head, as he leads the Dodgers to their first title in 21 years.
So there you have it – one man’s humble predictions in the newness of spring. As the season begins, it is indeed true that every team is tied for first place right now. But if you notice my picks, you’ll see that the Rays and Tigers are the only teams from mid-sized markets that I chose for this year’s playoffs. More than getting my World Series picks right, I’d love to see close races, involving teams with a variety of salary scales. That would be some real baseball.
So in 1991, as I penned my baseball preview, I felt it my responsibility to make another surprise pick. I liked the young talent on the Chicago White Sox, so I chose them to defeat the also young and talented Montreal Expos in the World Series.
That didn’t happen.
However … it did start a trend in my April baseball picks – I began falling in love with teams that were filled with young talent. And, inevitably, I was a year or two early in predicting these teams’ postseason success. It wasn’t 1991 that the White Sox made it back to the playoffs, but 1993. It wasn’t ’91 that Montreal made its big move, but 1994, a season that never saw the playoffs due to the absence of a labor agreement.
I gushed over the Milwaukee Brewers in 2005, ’06 and ’07, only to see them make the playoffs in ’08. I liked the Oakland A’s in ’05, but they made the American League Championship Series in 2006. I chose the Cleveland Indians to make the World Series in ’06, yet it was the following year that saw them come within a game of the Fall Classic. I picked the Phillies to make the World Series in ’07, only to see them win it in ’08. I picked the Mets to win it all last year, so that’s good news for the guys in Queens.
And so, as baseball’s regular season begins tonight, I present you with my picks for this year. As you read, I’d suggest you pencil these teams in for 2010.
American League: It seems that the New York Yankees will do whatever is needed to win the American League East this year, even if that means paying Sandy Koufax to find a fountain of youth and return to the mound. I’ll pick the Yanks for the division, with the Tampa Bay Rays and their scintillating young talent edging out the Boston Red Sox for the wild card. In the AL Central, I think the Detroit Tigers are the most professional ballclub in an evenly matched division, with the Indians right behind them and the Kansas City Royals paving the way for a return to postseason play in 2010. In the West, I am concerned about injuries to the Los Angeles Angels’ pitching rotation, but in a weak division I imagine they’ll trade for pitching if they need to do so. It is possible, however, that the Texas Rangers will be a much stronger team than most are predicting they will be. I like the Yankees defeating the Tigers in the Division Series, and the Angels outpitching the Rays. In the ALCS, I see the Yankees exorcising some demons by finally defeating the Angels.
National League: The Mets and Phillies both have tremendous ballclubs this year, and therefore they will both make the playoffs. I see the gritty, confident Phillies edging out New York for the division crown, but with both teams being well aware by mid-September that they’re playoff-bound. In the NL Central, the Chicago Cubs have tremendous pitching coupled with weaknesses in their lineup, but it will be enough to hold off the Brewers or whoever lands in second place. In the NL West, the Los Angeles Dodgers and Arizona Diamondbacks will duel it out in a very tight race, with the Rockies making some noise back in third place. But the Dodgers are just too talented a team, and if pitching is a problem, they’ll make the necessary moves as the season ensues. I like the Dodgers over the Mets in a classic Division Series matchup, and the Cubs edging out the Phillies in another close contest. The Dodgers will be far too much for the Cubs to handle in a seven-game championship series, putting Joe Torre’s group in the Series.
What a matchup: Yankees versus Dodgers; Torre versus the club he managed to four titles. The two historic franchises will meet in the World Series for the first time in 28 years, and they will be so evenly matched that the series can’t help but go seven. The Dodgers’ young players will find intestinal fortitude they never knew they had, and Torre will keep them calm amidst the nerve-wracking intensity of the Fall Classic. Matt Kemp will provide the big blow for Los Angeles in Game Seven, and the City of Angels will place a permanent halo over Torre’s head, as he leads the Dodgers to their first title in 21 years.
So there you have it – one man’s humble predictions in the newness of spring. As the season begins, it is indeed true that every team is tied for first place right now. But if you notice my picks, you’ll see that the Rays and Tigers are the only teams from mid-sized markets that I chose for this year’s playoffs. More than getting my World Series picks right, I’d love to see close races, involving teams with a variety of salary scales. That would be some real baseball.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
October 1993
It was the fall of ’93, and I was busy typing up resumes and cover letters in my parents’ basement as my stereo pumped out the music of Pearl Jam and Nirvana. I had just graduated from college, and was hungrily looking for my first newspaper job. With our country crawling out of a recession, I was casting a wide net, firing out resumes to papers in every mid- and major-size city in America, as well as to papers in Ireland, England and Canada. It was a time of anticipation and hope for a 22-year-old. While doing all this, I had half an eye on the TV screen, where the Chicago White Sox were playing the Toronto Blue Jays in the American League Championship Series, and the Philadelphia Phillies were taking on the Atlanta Braves for the National League pennant. Bo Jackson was challenging his White Sox teammates to bring their games to a higher level, while the Phils’ Curt Schilling was pitching like a man who knew what the postseason was all about.
I’ve been thinking of that period, 15 years ago, as I reflect on the impending reality that 2008 will mark the first autumn since’93 that Major League Baseball is holding a postseason and the Yankees are not a part of it. Like any baseball fan, I’m disappointed that my favorite team doesn’t seem to have enough muscle to push their way into the playoffs. And yet, as I think back on 1993, I remember surviving that year just fine. So as I think ahead to next month, I also see much room for personal fulfillment even without a Yankee playoff game.
As a baseball fan, I’m eager to see young teams like the Brewers, Twins, Rays, Diamondbacks and Cubs vie for a playoff spot and a title. As a Yankee fan, I’m looking forward to watching the team unload some of the high salaries and re-tool. And I must say, some of the New York playoff rituals were getting a bit tiresome – the Irish tenor singing “God Bless America,” Rudy Giuliani clapping from his seat behind home plate, the Joe Torre investment commercials, even – dare I say it – the Jeter fist-pump.
When I think back to ’93 and the Yankees, I remember that being a year in which the team’s future started to unveil itself. We realized that year that it wouldn’t be long before New York returned to the playoffs for the first time since ’81, as the superb young players they’d grown from within had actually not been traded during George Steinbrenner’s two-year exile from baseball. The organization had realized that if you drafted great talent and nurtured it, you could be in pretty good shape once you added the right mix of veterans. In 1993, no Yankees player epitomized the future more than the guitar-playing center fielder, Bernie Williams.
Number 51 was still figuring out how to avoid pickoffs on the bases and when to lay off the breaking pitches at that time. But man, he could hit and run. And as time passed, we realized that this man possessed a brilliant combination of talent and class. He was the kind of player who could hit a walk-off home run in a tension-filled playoff game, then put his head down and run the bases without showing off the opposing team. He was a man who seemed to know that his intense passion on the field would only be maintained by having other interests (such as classical guitar) off the field. He never showed up the fans, and always maintained his cool under the hot lights.
As the Yankees close up their old ballpark and prepare for the new one, there has been no tribute to Bernie Williams. The old center fielder last played in the major leagues during the 2006 season and had a falling out with the team during spring training last year. Whatever was said during that time, the Yankees organization should be fully capable of moving beyond it and retiring No. 51 before the stadium closes. When a man helps his employer make billions of dollars with skill, effort and integrity, he deserves to be honored. When he’s not, the employer looks ungrateful.
Until I see No. 51 hanging up in left field with the other retired numbers, I won’t be too teary-eyed about the Yankees missing out on any playoff series. I’ll keep an eye on Ryan Braun, Alfonso Soriano, Evan Longoria and Chris Young, as they vie for a title. I’ll listen to my music – more Wilco and Beck these days than the grunge music of ’93. I’ll keep up my writing and my teaching. And life will indeed go on.
I’ve been thinking of that period, 15 years ago, as I reflect on the impending reality that 2008 will mark the first autumn since’93 that Major League Baseball is holding a postseason and the Yankees are not a part of it. Like any baseball fan, I’m disappointed that my favorite team doesn’t seem to have enough muscle to push their way into the playoffs. And yet, as I think back on 1993, I remember surviving that year just fine. So as I think ahead to next month, I also see much room for personal fulfillment even without a Yankee playoff game.
As a baseball fan, I’m eager to see young teams like the Brewers, Twins, Rays, Diamondbacks and Cubs vie for a playoff spot and a title. As a Yankee fan, I’m looking forward to watching the team unload some of the high salaries and re-tool. And I must say, some of the New York playoff rituals were getting a bit tiresome – the Irish tenor singing “God Bless America,” Rudy Giuliani clapping from his seat behind home plate, the Joe Torre investment commercials, even – dare I say it – the Jeter fist-pump.
When I think back to ’93 and the Yankees, I remember that being a year in which the team’s future started to unveil itself. We realized that year that it wouldn’t be long before New York returned to the playoffs for the first time since ’81, as the superb young players they’d grown from within had actually not been traded during George Steinbrenner’s two-year exile from baseball. The organization had realized that if you drafted great talent and nurtured it, you could be in pretty good shape once you added the right mix of veterans. In 1993, no Yankees player epitomized the future more than the guitar-playing center fielder, Bernie Williams.
Number 51 was still figuring out how to avoid pickoffs on the bases and when to lay off the breaking pitches at that time. But man, he could hit and run. And as time passed, we realized that this man possessed a brilliant combination of talent and class. He was the kind of player who could hit a walk-off home run in a tension-filled playoff game, then put his head down and run the bases without showing off the opposing team. He was a man who seemed to know that his intense passion on the field would only be maintained by having other interests (such as classical guitar) off the field. He never showed up the fans, and always maintained his cool under the hot lights.
As the Yankees close up their old ballpark and prepare for the new one, there has been no tribute to Bernie Williams. The old center fielder last played in the major leagues during the 2006 season and had a falling out with the team during spring training last year. Whatever was said during that time, the Yankees organization should be fully capable of moving beyond it and retiring No. 51 before the stadium closes. When a man helps his employer make billions of dollars with skill, effort and integrity, he deserves to be honored. When he’s not, the employer looks ungrateful.
Until I see No. 51 hanging up in left field with the other retired numbers, I won’t be too teary-eyed about the Yankees missing out on any playoff series. I’ll keep an eye on Ryan Braun, Alfonso Soriano, Evan Longoria and Chris Young, as they vie for a title. I’ll listen to my music – more Wilco and Beck these days than the grunge music of ’93. I’ll keep up my writing and my teaching. And life will indeed go on.
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