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-Nine: Justin Morneau, Minnesota Twins
Two years ago, I had a month-long spell of headaches that wouldn’t go away. I went for tests, and everything came up clear. I would imagine it was either allergy- or stress-related, as it gradually dissipated.
Pain in any part of our body is no fun at all, but pain in the head can be particularly stressful. In recent years, doctors and athletes have taken a much closer look at the problem of concussions in sports. The National Football League, in particular, has done some serious soul-searching in addressing the number and severity of concussions its athletes sustain. High school athletic groups, too, have focused more intently on the injuries our teen-agers experience when they take blows to the head.
Over on the baseball diamond, Justin Morneau was having an MVP season with the Minnesota Twins as the All-Star break approached earlier this month. Morneau’s 18 home runs, 56 runs batted in and .345 batting average placed him alongside Detroit’s Miguel Cabrera and Texas’ Josh Hamilton in a three-man quest for baseball’s first Triple Crown in 43 years.
And then Morneau took a knee to the head during a ballgame on July 7 while trying to break up a double play. He was diagnosed with a concussion, hasn’t played since, and missed the All-Star Game completely. Published reports state that he’s resting, seeing a specialist, and not yet ready to play ball again.
One can only hope that Morneau recovers from this injury, and that he is back at the head of the Twins’ offense quite soon. As for the sports world in general, may researchers continue to look for ways to protect our athletes from severe head injuries. Collisions with balls, turf, walls or other athletes are violent ones, and they can impact lives. When doctors recommend a rule change here or a thicker helmet there, it’s time for everyone to line up in support. A healthier playing field is always a more progressive one.
Showing posts with label Josh Hamilton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Josh Hamilton. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
It Works If You Work It (One Sixty-Two: Day 68)
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-Eight: Josh Hamilton, Texas Rangers
My father asked me, about a month ago, what was up with Josh Hamilton. The Texas Rangers outfielder was batting during a nationally televised game, and his numbers for the year were rather pedestrian.
“Isn’t he supposed to be this great player?” my dad asked.
Yes, I said, he is. But Hamilton had struggled with injuries over the past year, so I didn’t know if he was still hurt. Of course, my dad knew all about Hamilton’s recovery from substance abuse, and the reckless manner in which he nearly threw away his enormous talent in exchange for drugs and alcohol. My dad also knew about Hamilton’s courageous recovery from those life-threatening addictions. He knew about Hamilton’s big-league debut at age 26 with the Cincinnati Reds, followed a year later by his 32-homer, 130-RBI explosion in 2008 with the Texas Rangers. I also knew about Hamilton’s relapse early in 2009, and the immediate help he sought after falling off the wagon.
So as Hamilton stood at bat early in his fourth season, my dad wanted to know if Hamilton’s one great year was an aberration. Was the former No. 1 draft pick really as good as those numbers revealed? My dad asked this in late May, at a time when Hamilton had fewer than 10 home runs on the year, about 25 runs batted in, and a batting average well below .300. All fine, but nothing special.
And then the calendar turned. June has been a little different for Josh Hamilton. We’ve still got two days left, but already Hamilton has locked up the honors for American League player of the month. His numbers are staggering: nine home runs, 30 RBI, 47 hits, a .470 batting average and a 21-game hitting streak.
And you talk about a most valuable player – in games in which the Rangers win, Hamilton is hitting .404 with 15 home runs. In games in which they lose, he’s hitting .248 with three homers. So far, it’s been more wins than losses for the Rangers, who lead their division by 4½ games. When the All-Star Game is played in a couple of weeks, Hamilton will be there, for a third straight season.
It’s always exciting to see a gifted athlete perform at his highest level. Right now in Arlington, Texas, the Rangers are watching a 29-year-old man play baseball better than anyone who has ever worn the Rangers uniform. This man has been scarred by the demons of his past. Those demons beat him up badly, and left him empty and alone. And then, even after he’d written a book about his inspiring recovery, those demons got him again. But once more, he got back up.
Scarred, yes. Humbled, indeed. But not slain. Josh Hamilton is still standing. Standing and slugging.
So Dad, I think we know the answer to your question now. “Great” may be too mild a term. And “reborn” is probably too strong a term, despite the temptation to overdramatize Hamilton’s comebacks.
In the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous, the men and women who attend AA meetings often close with these words: “Keep coming back; it works if you work it.” In terms of English grammar, this makes no sense. But in terms of recovery and wellness, it makes all the sense in the world.
Keep coming back, Josh. Keep working it. It’s working.
Day Sixty-Eight: Josh Hamilton, Texas Rangers
My father asked me, about a month ago, what was up with Josh Hamilton. The Texas Rangers outfielder was batting during a nationally televised game, and his numbers for the year were rather pedestrian.
“Isn’t he supposed to be this great player?” my dad asked.
Yes, I said, he is. But Hamilton had struggled with injuries over the past year, so I didn’t know if he was still hurt. Of course, my dad knew all about Hamilton’s recovery from substance abuse, and the reckless manner in which he nearly threw away his enormous talent in exchange for drugs and alcohol. My dad also knew about Hamilton’s courageous recovery from those life-threatening addictions. He knew about Hamilton’s big-league debut at age 26 with the Cincinnati Reds, followed a year later by his 32-homer, 130-RBI explosion in 2008 with the Texas Rangers. I also knew about Hamilton’s relapse early in 2009, and the immediate help he sought after falling off the wagon.
So as Hamilton stood at bat early in his fourth season, my dad wanted to know if Hamilton’s one great year was an aberration. Was the former No. 1 draft pick really as good as those numbers revealed? My dad asked this in late May, at a time when Hamilton had fewer than 10 home runs on the year, about 25 runs batted in, and a batting average well below .300. All fine, but nothing special.
And then the calendar turned. June has been a little different for Josh Hamilton. We’ve still got two days left, but already Hamilton has locked up the honors for American League player of the month. His numbers are staggering: nine home runs, 30 RBI, 47 hits, a .470 batting average and a 21-game hitting streak.
And you talk about a most valuable player – in games in which the Rangers win, Hamilton is hitting .404 with 15 home runs. In games in which they lose, he’s hitting .248 with three homers. So far, it’s been more wins than losses for the Rangers, who lead their division by 4½ games. When the All-Star Game is played in a couple of weeks, Hamilton will be there, for a third straight season.
It’s always exciting to see a gifted athlete perform at his highest level. Right now in Arlington, Texas, the Rangers are watching a 29-year-old man play baseball better than anyone who has ever worn the Rangers uniform. This man has been scarred by the demons of his past. Those demons beat him up badly, and left him empty and alone. And then, even after he’d written a book about his inspiring recovery, those demons got him again. But once more, he got back up.
Scarred, yes. Humbled, indeed. But not slain. Josh Hamilton is still standing. Standing and slugging.
So Dad, I think we know the answer to your question now. “Great” may be too mild a term. And “reborn” is probably too strong a term, despite the temptation to overdramatize Hamilton’s comebacks.
In the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous, the men and women who attend AA meetings often close with these words: “Keep coming back; it works if you work it.” In terms of English grammar, this makes no sense. But in terms of recovery and wellness, it makes all the sense in the world.
Keep coming back, Josh. Keep working it. It’s working.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
The Doorknob Installer (One Sixty-Two: Day Five)
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 Five: Phil Coke, Detroit Tigers
We live in a specialized world, or so we’re told. Don’t learn a little bit about a lot; instead, learn a lot about a little. Be it technology, finance, writing, science, medicine – everyone’s looking for that edge, and they often find it by carving a niche.
In baseball, a position has developed over the past decade and a half that is so specialized it occupies a tiny cubbyhole in the realm of baseball. It’s a job that often requires no more than 10 minutes on the pitcher’s mound, about 80 times a year.
It’s called the left-handed relief specialist. Minimum salary: 400 grand.
No one’s saying it’s easy: Your 10 minutes might involve a faceoff against Ryan Howard, Prince Fielder, Adam Dunn, or Justin Morneau. You may walk onto the field with runners on second and third, one out, and the cleanup hitter at the plate. You’ll have to go from warmup tosses to blistering pressure in no time flat.
But if you toss some nasty sliders at that cleanup hitter, and get him chasing a few, your night will be done as soon as he’s back in the dugout. You’ll get a pat on the back, a right-handed pitcher will come on to face the next righty hitter, and you’ll be off to the showers.
Not a bad day’s work. And man, is it ever in demand. Every team has at least one. Take Jesse Orosco, for instance. The former Mets closer stood on the mound to face lefties for 24 years, retiring at the age of 46. No pitcher has ever appeared in as many games as Orosco. His record, however, will surely be broken by another lefty reliever soon enough.
It’s like having a job installing only doorknobs. As the carpenters, plumbers and electricians do their thing, they call you whenever a door is installed and in need of a knob. You show up, screw it into place, and leave. Ten minutes.
Last year, Phil Coke did his left-handed doorknob installer job so well that it earned him a World Series ring with the New York Yankees. This year, Coke is with the Detroit Tigers, and he’s already won three games for Detroit in the bullpen. Monday night, however, Coke offered evidence of what can happen when we glide outside of our niche.
The Texas Rangers have loaded the bases in a game that Detroit leads, 6-4, and the left-handed slugger Josh Hamilton stands at the plate. In comes Coke. And before you can finish biting your nails, a sweeping curve sends Hamilton down. Strike three.
And then … Detroit manager Jim Leyland decides to leave Coke in to face Vladimir Guerrero, a legendary right-handed hitter profiled on Day Three of this series. Suddenly, the doorknob guy has been asked to wire the bathroom lights. And, before you can say “single up the middle,” sparks are flying. Guerrero trots to first, two men score, and the game is tied.
The night ended well for Phil Coke, as Detroit came back to win in the ninth, and he even got the win. But the specialist had climbed outside his cubbyhole, and he’d taken a few lumps.
We know the moral: Next time, Phil, stick with what you know. After all, you’re only 27. Ten minutes a day for another 20 years, and you’ll be passing ol’ Jesse’s record. The doors are ready for you, sir.
Day Five: Phil Coke, Detroit Tigers
We live in a specialized world, or so we’re told. Don’t learn a little bit about a lot; instead, learn a lot about a little. Be it technology, finance, writing, science, medicine – everyone’s looking for that edge, and they often find it by carving a niche.
In baseball, a position has developed over the past decade and a half that is so specialized it occupies a tiny cubbyhole in the realm of baseball. It’s a job that often requires no more than 10 minutes on the pitcher’s mound, about 80 times a year.
It’s called the left-handed relief specialist. Minimum salary: 400 grand.
No one’s saying it’s easy: Your 10 minutes might involve a faceoff against Ryan Howard, Prince Fielder, Adam Dunn, or Justin Morneau. You may walk onto the field with runners on second and third, one out, and the cleanup hitter at the plate. You’ll have to go from warmup tosses to blistering pressure in no time flat.
But if you toss some nasty sliders at that cleanup hitter, and get him chasing a few, your night will be done as soon as he’s back in the dugout. You’ll get a pat on the back, a right-handed pitcher will come on to face the next righty hitter, and you’ll be off to the showers.
Not a bad day’s work. And man, is it ever in demand. Every team has at least one. Take Jesse Orosco, for instance. The former Mets closer stood on the mound to face lefties for 24 years, retiring at the age of 46. No pitcher has ever appeared in as many games as Orosco. His record, however, will surely be broken by another lefty reliever soon enough.
It’s like having a job installing only doorknobs. As the carpenters, plumbers and electricians do their thing, they call you whenever a door is installed and in need of a knob. You show up, screw it into place, and leave. Ten minutes.
Last year, Phil Coke did his left-handed doorknob installer job so well that it earned him a World Series ring with the New York Yankees. This year, Coke is with the Detroit Tigers, and he’s already won three games for Detroit in the bullpen. Monday night, however, Coke offered evidence of what can happen when we glide outside of our niche.
The Texas Rangers have loaded the bases in a game that Detroit leads, 6-4, and the left-handed slugger Josh Hamilton stands at the plate. In comes Coke. And before you can finish biting your nails, a sweeping curve sends Hamilton down. Strike three.
And then … Detroit manager Jim Leyland decides to leave Coke in to face Vladimir Guerrero, a legendary right-handed hitter profiled on Day Three of this series. Suddenly, the doorknob guy has been asked to wire the bathroom lights. And, before you can say “single up the middle,” sparks are flying. Guerrero trots to first, two men score, and the game is tied.
The night ended well for Phil Coke, as Detroit came back to win in the ninth, and he even got the win. But the specialist had climbed outside his cubbyhole, and he’d taken a few lumps.
We know the moral: Next time, Phil, stick with what you know. After all, you’re only 27. Ten minutes a day for another 20 years, and you’ll be passing ol’ Jesse’s record. The doors are ready for you, sir.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Madness & Fantasy of March
So it’s that time of year when millions of men and women put aside those stories about economic depressions and international crises and health-care reform, only to take out the sports section, study the experts’ predictions, and make their own picks.
It is, of course, the time of year we call “March Madness.” But in 2009, that term doesn’t apply solely to the NCAA basketball tournaments. No, this third month of the year has come to be known for much more in the world of sports. As fantasy sports continue to grow exponentially, March has also become the season for fantasy baseball drafts. For some, this means selecting players on a computer for two hours on a Saturday morning. For others, it means sitting in a living room for an entire day drafting players in a league auction.
Many people call either of these options a grand waste of time, and they are most certainly entitled to that opinion. But the fantasy craze is not going anywhere, and it has quickly developed into one of our national pastimes. I have found that when it’s given a small compartment in my life, fantasy baseball can be a blast – a wonderful way to unwind for 30 minutes. When given a larger place in my life – say, the master suite – it becomes a complete hindrance between me and the life I’d genuinely like to live.
I’ll give it a try this year, for the fifth time in my adult life. But as I think about which players to draft, I’ll do so with an eye glued to that other March competition – the one involving real athletes in lose-and-go-home contests. The NCAA Tournaments – men’s and women’s – are a true sports fantasy, as they feature more drama and intensity than anything this side of the Olympics. I can’t wait.
As I’m watching those first-round games next week, I’ll likely have my Sporting News fantasy-baseball guidebook on my lap to read during commercials. If I’m getting tired, I might find myself drifting off into some sort of March Mixture. Such as …
The Sweet 16 of Sluggers. Best hitter on the planet, folks, and just 16 players left in the regional semifinals. The matchups:
Top seed Alex Rodriguez vs. 16th-seed Lance Berkman.
Albert Pujols (2) vs. Mark Teixeira (15).
Hanley Ramirez (3) vs. Carlos Beltran (14).
David Wright (4) vs. Manny Ramirez (13).
Matt Holliday (5) vs. Chase Utley (12).
Grady Sizemore (6) vs. Miguel Cabrera (11).
Josh Hamilton (7) vs. Ryan Braun (10).
And Jose Reyes (8) vs. Ryan Howard (9).
Who makes it to the Elite Eight in your pool? I’m going with A-Rod, Pujols, Hanley, Manny, Holliday, Cabrera, Hamilton and Howard. That brings us to quite a final eight. A-Rod versus Howard? I’ll take Rodriguez. Pujols against Hamilton? Sticking with Albert. Hanley against Cabrera? Sorry, kid, but I’ll take Miguel. Manny against Holliday? Manny in a romp.
Your Final Four – A-Rod against Manny. Pujols against Cabrera.
I’ll leave that selection up to you. Just in case you were wondering, though, my champion plays in a West Coast offense.
It is, of course, the time of year we call “March Madness.” But in 2009, that term doesn’t apply solely to the NCAA basketball tournaments. No, this third month of the year has come to be known for much more in the world of sports. As fantasy sports continue to grow exponentially, March has also become the season for fantasy baseball drafts. For some, this means selecting players on a computer for two hours on a Saturday morning. For others, it means sitting in a living room for an entire day drafting players in a league auction.
Many people call either of these options a grand waste of time, and they are most certainly entitled to that opinion. But the fantasy craze is not going anywhere, and it has quickly developed into one of our national pastimes. I have found that when it’s given a small compartment in my life, fantasy baseball can be a blast – a wonderful way to unwind for 30 minutes. When given a larger place in my life – say, the master suite – it becomes a complete hindrance between me and the life I’d genuinely like to live.
I’ll give it a try this year, for the fifth time in my adult life. But as I think about which players to draft, I’ll do so with an eye glued to that other March competition – the one involving real athletes in lose-and-go-home contests. The NCAA Tournaments – men’s and women’s – are a true sports fantasy, as they feature more drama and intensity than anything this side of the Olympics. I can’t wait.
As I’m watching those first-round games next week, I’ll likely have my Sporting News fantasy-baseball guidebook on my lap to read during commercials. If I’m getting tired, I might find myself drifting off into some sort of March Mixture. Such as …
The Sweet 16 of Sluggers. Best hitter on the planet, folks, and just 16 players left in the regional semifinals. The matchups:
Top seed Alex Rodriguez vs. 16th-seed Lance Berkman.
Albert Pujols (2) vs. Mark Teixeira (15).
Hanley Ramirez (3) vs. Carlos Beltran (14).
David Wright (4) vs. Manny Ramirez (13).
Matt Holliday (5) vs. Chase Utley (12).
Grady Sizemore (6) vs. Miguel Cabrera (11).
Josh Hamilton (7) vs. Ryan Braun (10).
And Jose Reyes (8) vs. Ryan Howard (9).
Who makes it to the Elite Eight in your pool? I’m going with A-Rod, Pujols, Hanley, Manny, Holliday, Cabrera, Hamilton and Howard. That brings us to quite a final eight. A-Rod versus Howard? I’ll take Rodriguez. Pujols against Hamilton? Sticking with Albert. Hanley against Cabrera? Sorry, kid, but I’ll take Miguel. Manny against Holliday? Manny in a romp.
Your Final Four – A-Rod against Manny. Pujols against Cabrera.
I’ll leave that selection up to you. Just in case you were wondering, though, my champion plays in a West Coast offense.
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