Thoughts and Memories of a Phillies Championship

People who know me personally know that, for me, the Phils are something of an adopted team to root for.  I’ll always be a true-navy blue, stone-cold Yankees fan until the day I die (speaking of them, how ’bout that mediocre season this year?).  I’m NY-state born and raised, so that’s that.  I went to college in Philadelphia in 1999 and fell in love with the city and its fans.  I have always been passionate about baseball, and the Phils play in the NL, so of course I’m going to cheer for them.  I got to understand the fervor and angst that Philadelphians experienced in waiting and waiting for their day in the limelight.  Now that the day has come, my thoughts on a championship:

 - This World Series was hardly the greatest ever, but after four years of four and outs, with a Rays team that climbed from the bottom of the heap to challenge for the title, with horrid northeast weather and a suspended game which has never happened, you have to say these games truly had some drama.  Even though it was great to see Boston win its first title in forever, Chicago just about as long and St. Louis for quite some time, those games were over before you knew it.  The Rays were not lively, producing few runs and barely showing in Game 4.  But they took at least one game and had their own moments, so for now, the purist that I am regarding baseball fandom, I am satisfied.

 - I can’t stand Bud Selig.  He has made some bad decisions in his tenure as comissioner, and he is horrible at marketing his sport (his congratulation speeches sound like eulogies).  And I am firmly convinced he was getting booed out there on the dais (not “Bud!”, “Boo!”).  And he got lucky, LUCKY, that the Rays tied the first part of Game 5, because there is no excuse, EVER, to even consider calling a post-season game in favor of one team.

 - Speaking of the suspended game, in a weird way it was good for both the Phils to lose one in Tampa and to have Game 5 split.  It gave the home crowd four chances to experience their beloved team try to deliver, giving them trepidation and joy instead of utter dread and sorrow.  Hindsight is 20-20, of course, and no Philly fan after Game 2 would have said “Huzzah!” to that loss, but it worked out in the end.

 - Certain players got legitimized in this season and postseason.  Cole Hamels went from being a young stud to maybe the next big thing in pitching.  Shane Victorino went from entertaining on a local level to star on a national stage.  Jayson Werth has become a bonafide, everyday starter.  Moyer and Blanton proved you don’t need a Garza or a Sonnastine.  Almost everyone looked good.

 - The Phils once again proved something that I have always believed in.  Most people will tell you that pitching wins championships, but I contend that a solid bench and great depth will take you to the promised land.  You can’t count on great pitching and hitting all the time.  The Rays rotation was not lights out (like my boy Lidge!), their lineup not hot.  Role players that can come through in a pinch; these are the guys that seal the deal.  Just when you think Matt Stairs is washed up and Geoff Jenkins was a bust, they can bring just enough out in a timely moment to get you through. 

 - Is Brad Lidge up there with Tug?  A bit early to be making comparisons, and McGraw was there for the first title, but Lidge did look photogenic enough, so that counts.  Giving Lidge the Comeback Player of the Year award is only a footnote in encapsulating his return to dominance.  Hinske looked resigned to fate as he took those last three strikes.  Side note on Hinske:  Some guy in the chat room for the game feed I viewed said it was only fitting that an ex-Blue Jay should strike out to a Philly closer in this World Series.

 - I didn’t see the Utley-to-Ruiz throw live (ARGH!), only the replay after.  Teaching while watching games is a difficult task.  Personally, I’ll remember that Zobrist liner to right, with one out and the runner Perez on second, picked up neatly by Werth.  If Werth is not exactly there or makes a misstep, the game is most assuredly tied.  And I don’t think Philadelphians could have handled the emotional drain.

 - No matter who you think it favored, the umping was terrible during this series.  A number of missed calls and shifting strike zones (and for both sides, too, Rays fans!).  One occasional snafu is one thing, but for the first time I am leaning somewhat towards instant replay.  Never for ball-and-strikes, though, the pitcher and catchers work to earn that zone.

 - The only game I saw with no interruptions was Game 3.  I was fortunate; the game had been delayed by rain, and my friends in Seoul and I headed to Gecko’s in Itaewon.  For those of you who don’t know, Gecko’s on a Friday or Saturday night is a great place to hang out if you are a tool.  It’s much better to go to on a Sunday morning, with a big-screen TV showing the game.  Prices are awful too.

 - Anyway, Game 3 made me appreciate all over again how fun it is to watch Jamie Moyer pitch.  Even at 45, he’s still throwing the ball effectively, and that stuck out tongue was priceless.  I would immediately hire him as a pitching coach if he made himself available.

 - On the Fox broadcast, they replayed Harry Kalas’ call of the last out, and that was an unexpected joy.  I’d take Harry the K alone over the whole Fox baseball crew any day of the week.

 - I haven’t seen or heard the Patti LaBelle rendition of the National Anthem, and I don’t care to (unless you tell me it’s really funny).  Hardly anybody sings it well anymore. and the fact that they are still throwing “God Bless America” into the mix is just too much patriotism for me.  I’m there for the game.

 - Did Fox play the Rocky theme enough?  Of course it should be played from time to time, but man, is that the only thing you people can identify the City of Brotherly Love with?  At least play some Survivor!

The aftermath:

 - First of all, I still contend that Jimmy Rollins should be named Team Captain.  I know some of you Philly folk are smarting from those “front-runner” comments, but it was a bit deserved.  And at this point, Rollins in essentially the old veteran on that team, always fun on and off the field, and brought you an MVP.  I remember Manuel benching him for one game earlier this year for not running hard enough, and J-Roll admitted he deserved it.  It’s stuff like that that makes a leader.

 - You might not want to hear this, Philly, but the club should at least make an offer to Pat Burrell.  It shouldn’t be as much as the last contract, and I know Pat the Bat isn’t always clutch with his standing strikeouts and 50 year old knees.  But year in and year out he still puts up decent HR and RBI numbers, and you cannot guarentee you will replace that.  And don’t tell me he’s not “clutch”; you need people to produce all the time.  Those runs count.

 - Even as champs, the Phils still need another starter.  The rotation solidified by season’s end (I don’t know if they solidified so much as coagulated), but most of the season it was a work in progress.  You can be hopeful that Myers has returned to form and Blanton will grow, but Moyer is pushing his age limits and they don’t have much consistency beyond that.  They need at least one more above-average starter to complement Hamels and frighten the competition into thinking this team is not a one-shot wonder.  Given that they just won and are young, no one (not even C.C.) is out of reach.

 - I can only imagine the level of public drunkenness, property damage and street rioting to be had tonight.  And it better happen, too, Philly!  You complained a lot to me with your “oh-when-will-we-ever-get-a-break” attitude!  I better see videos of people in Yuengling-stained Ryan Howard jerseys, passed out on the street, or I will be displeased.  A turned-over car or two is a bit much.

And now that the Phils have won:

 - There will be much rejoicing.

 - Let no one say that this was undeserving, or that the Phils are a weak and boring champion.  I hate that kind of garbage; resentful bile from people who did not see their favored team accomplish the pinnacle.  I despised the yearning these sportswriters and TV people had for an L.A./Boston series.  “Oh, I can’t wait to see Manny!  Will he be Manny?”  Those footnotes are tiresome.  I enjoyed seeing the Phils and Rays bring to fruition what has been a long road of tinkering and toiling at putting together a perfect team.  Philadelphia hadn’t won a title in 25 years, and the turnaround for the Rays, the worst-to-almost-first story, will be remembered despite the loss.  You can’t sell that package, Fox and ESPN?  You need Manny being Manny so badly?  Yeesh.

 - People outside of Philadelphia spew a lot of bad publicity about this town, mostly because some inebriated bozos threw snowballs at Santa (which isn’t even the whole story).  They don’t realize that these people who get into these drunken fights and engage in such clownish antics can be found in just about every major city.  The difference in that Philadelphians are constantly being told that they are fat, stupid, ugly people who live in an armpit of a city that offers nothing aesthetically pleasing or, even worse, no A-list celebrities!  They are constantly being painted as losers, and that’s made even worse by the fact that their teams have often been losers.  Philadelphians live and breathe their sports franchises, and even when they boo one game, they come back the next.  So lay off with the pretenious “Oh what a boring champion” commentary.  If you need your own city represented so much, don’t even bother making a comment and go back to watching “Desperate Housewives”.

 - Philadelphia, you have your championship.  I’m thrilled for you.  I wish I could be there and celebrate with you.  Enjoy it.  Enjoy it thoroughly, soak it in, and then shut up the whining for a year, because some of the those outsiders say about you is true.  You are winners now.  If the Eagles miss the playoffs, ignore that guttural, compelling voice in you that wants to say “here we go again” or “it’s so unfair” or other such nonsense.  You’re classy, Philly, much more than people may ever know, but you tend to give off bad vibes from time to time.  Stifle your “Negadelph” and “Illadelph” tendencies for the time being.

For me, personally:

 - Seeing the Phillies win a championship is not like, say, the Yankees winning in 1996, the first baseball championship I could enjoy.  And being in Korea cheapens the thrill a bit; I’d rather be hopping around town and mixing it up with the peeps.  But when Lidge got down on his knees, I jumped out of my seat.

 - I’ve longed cared about Philadelphia sports (and the Phils in particular) because I’ve wanted to see Philly win, and feel like a winner.  Not being there leaves an empty feeling.  I want to see my old friends and shake their hands.  I want to get in Chris or Pat or Bob’s face and say, “OK, you happy, now?” in a sarcastic manner that they are accustomed to as they scream at the top of their lungs and don’t even comprehend me.  I want to ask Nicole if she finally feels like her optimism has paid off.  I feel a bittersweetness as I sit, so many miles away, forced to celebrate through computer keys.

 - My greatest memory of the 2008 World Series will always be sitting in an empty classroom, on a Thursday morning local time, watching the game on a slow-as-molasses Justin.tv stream, following the tension and revelry and inane chat comments, while the stream host pauses from time to time to refill the bong he’s been hitting (or, to give the benefit of the doubt, a 2-liter of Pepsi), which had been placed rather close to the microphone.  During the 9th inning and the ensuing celebration, I noticed the strange sounds occuring more often.

 - I want to go party-harty, too.  I miss you, Philadelphia.  Congrats.

 

Seriously, Philly…

I love you guys.  I really do.  And I love the fact that the Phils are one win away from their first baseball title in over 25 years.  That’s great, I wish I was there.

But what’s with these weak fan signs I’m seeing during the games?  “Ryan Howard for President”?  “Super Champs” (with a “yay chase” afterthought)?  “Utley Amazing”?  “There’s No Cowbells in Philadelphia”?  Where can I find some ingenuity, or even decent grammar?  I hope that, in Game 5 with Cole on the mound and destiny almost in grasp, that we have some people showing something a bit more clever.  C’mon, Philly, I’ve been defending your rep from across the ocean, you are not dumb!

By the way, how’d you guys like this Jamie Moyer-Gene Simmons moment?  I love Moyer.

 

Jinx Time!

The NLCS has just started, so that means my predictions for the World Series contendors are tardy.  Of course, the Angels and Cubs utterly butchered my series predictions, so no one should take this posting seriously, I guess.  That being said, I’m going with a bit of a surprise and say it’ll be a Phillies-Rays World Series.  The Dodgers have a slight edge in pitching and people are talking up Manny he’s just now amazing, but the Phillies can match them with arms and have Brad Lidge to seal close games.  I like the Phils’ lineup to light it up more than the Dodgers, especially the lefties.  The Red Sox have been there and done that, but they just look gimpy this year.  I think the young, unknown teams are often the scariest, and even though these teams know played often in the season, I think the Rays will still surprise Boston pitching and play well enough to win a long series.  Go Phils!

 

Go Phillies! (‘Cause I Damn the Yankees)

I went to Taiwan with some friends recently, and found this picture at the top of Taipei 101 (pictures from that trip up soon).  Note the enthusiastic Phils fan in the mix.  Since my always-favored Yankees decided they would blow this season, I’m rooting for my favorite NL team in Philly to make a run for the series.  So to all the Philly peeps, consider this a good luck charm from afar!  Don’t go three and out like last year, Phils!

Also, speaking objectively, I think it’s Angels over Cubs in 6 in the World Series.

 

Fire This Man!

Good gravy, why is Rich Dubee still a coach with the Philadelphia Phillies? Kevin Millwood comes to town years ago after a great year with the Braves. He then stinks. He heads over to Cleveland and has a career year. Gavin Floyd was a promising prospect that stank as well in Philly. Now he’s pitching for no-hitters.

Charlie Manuel doesn’t know a damn thing about pitching except when it comes to the fact that you have to hit against it (and that man loves talkin’ about hittin’!). So if you’re in need of a pitching coach that can actually help you with gauging pitchers, talking them out of scary spots and other general improvements, an upgrade over Rich Dubee is needed.

Seriously, guys like Hamels are gems that bring their own game. Don’t let Rich Dubee ruin them. Because he’s a ruiner. He brings ruin.

 

Oh, Phils, You And Your Silly Heads…

You know, as much as I love Philadelphia and the Phillies, I’m glad they aren’t my favorite ball team.  I often think that Phils fans overreact to bad news and management decisions.  However, I have to say that, given that they let go Aaron Rowand and did not sign a big-time starter, they better give the money to Ryan Howard, lest they risk the wrath of the fans.  They have a great (not good, great) young nucleus that can potentially compete for years to come.  He’s a great contributer that can still grow even at his age, he has a lovable personality and he gets along well with his teammates.  You have to give the man a solid deal and make him happy.  I never understand why the Phils (who have a LOT of money) are always hesitant to pay good money to keep their great players, or do the things that make them happy and therefore productive.

 

Articles of the Opinionated: ***Steroid Paranoia, Part II***

I just viewed this last Friday’s episode of “Around the Horn” on ESPN, and once again the columnists were clamoring for Roger Clemens to come out in front of a television camera and either refute or admit to the accusations of the Mitchell Report and former trainer Brian McNamee that he has taken performance-enhancing drugs. Curt Schilling not only agrees, but he thinks that Clemens has to give up some of his trophies if he can’t “clear his name”, according to ESPN.com, which sources Schill’s blog. David Justice, also named on the Mitchell Report, has urged Clemens to speak to the public as well. It seems lately that the sweat lamp that is sports press conferences is the only way for one to acknowledge the current crisis that I have labeled “steroid paranoia”, and it’s a shame that these very people do not realize how preposterous their demands are.

No one, save Congressional subpoena power, has the right or even fair reason to demand that Clemens and other ballplayers come to speak to the press about this issue. We have a couple of guaranteed rights that these people tend to forget about; freedom of speech and protection from self-incrimination. Though the press has freedom to ask and prod for a response, they are in no position to make Clemens speak. Simple as that. And yet, since the release of the report, many have been issuing vague ultimatums of “he has to speak now, or…”.

Or what? The second problem with the demand is that people have already made up their minds on the matter, and what’s done is done. What do you expect Clemens to say, and do you expect to react differently? Since the accusation, notable journalists and others have said Clemens has to speak, only to be frustrated by the presence of attorneys. Clemens has to speak, you say? And what should he say? What can he say? If he wanted to take the Pettite route and admit, he already would have. If he had legitimate proof he could show to the masses saying, “See, I was right,” he would have. But he obviously doesn’t. The lawyers are his wall until he has his case straight, and that’s what people accused of a crime or infraction do. They protect themselves. To expect otherwise is to be self-absorbed.

And if he ultimately chooses to speak, it means nothing without a break in the news. Without that, Clemens would come out and reiterate what he already told his lawyers to impart. Media people will ask stupid questions, and Clemens will issue ambiguous responses. And nothing changes. Those who are against stay against, those who support still support. Without some new evidence for or against, there’s really no news. When people say Clemens has to speak, what they really want is for him to either admit to wrongdoing or have on record that he said, so that they may blast him later should we find that McNamee speaks the truth.

The word “credibility” keeps getting bandied about since McNamee named names (those three words are fun to say), but why? Just because some people admitted, or that he has details that anyone with a wit of imagination could come up with? McNamee’s accusations of some of these players are reasonable, long and detailed, but in many cases prove nothing. Curt Schilling says that Roger Clemens has to clear his name, but how do you clear your name from something like this? That’s like a woman accusing a man of fondling her on the subway while no one was looking. And let’s remember that we should be just as suspicious of Brian McNamee as we should of Roger Clemens, because he was one-half of a supposed tandem of people committing unethical acts.

Once again, this is nothing more than a desperate search for a scapegoat. If famous players like Clemens or Bonds are proven to have done dirty deeds, then George Mitchell can justify spending millions of taxpayer dollars with a moral victory, and journalists don’t have to feel as bad about cheering for these great players as they did. People have to realize that this is not about the injustices done to the average fan, but rather the need for accusers to cover their backs when nothing comes of it. The fact that people like Jason Grimsley were caught (yes, CAUGHT!) means so little because his career meant so little to others. Rafael Palmeiro has been all but forgotten himself. Many are willing to say that the organization and the owners are just as responsible as the players and the union, but no one’s calling them all to task. But that’s just how it is in the court of public opinion. We’ll only care about the juice if the news is juicy.

And, in the meantime, Goose Gossage says this, but Derek Jeter says this, and while Sen. John McCain is saying this, Gene Wojciechowski tells you this. But in the end, they all are pretty much telling you nothing useful at all.

 

Articles of the Opinionated: ***Steroid Paranoia***

At long last, the Mitchell report is available to the public, and many names were indeed named. Roger Clemens, Miguel Tejada, David Justice and Nook Logan (sorry, I just love that name) were but a few of many well-known and (Nook) not-so well-known players. It was both an exciting and ugly day for baseball, and a whole lot of people seem to have a whole lot to answer to. The release of the report will certainly prompt deeper investigations, by both the feds and the MLB, and some legacies in the game might never recover.

Which is all a big load. Steroid use in baseball, while an important matter that needs stronger addressing, is the most overblown sports story in recent memory, sensationalized by a number of individuals in baseball, in the media and in Congress, who are remiss to either admit their own culpability or shame in cheering for these alleged users. I do agree that a level playing field should be maintained and illegal drug usage is certainly illegal and therefore punishable, but what this fervor for “justice” has done is nothing more than to have brought an unnecessary and unfair McCarthyism to baseball.

The first, and perhaps greatest, grudge I have against this type of public reaction is the fact that people are chiming in a bit too late. Concerns over performance-enhancing drugs were sprouting in the late 90’s, when the home run surge happened and McGwire admitted to using andro. At that time, some serious questions were raised, but for the most part, all parties shrugged their shoulders. The fans and the media ate up the home runs, and baseball (both owners and players alike) made big money. Everybody was happy, even though it was fairly obvious to those willing to look that some players might have been benefiting from a little extra help.

The fact that some drugs were once legal and that many of these alleged players have never tested positive or have been known to purchase or use these drugs is immaterial in the court of public opinion. Just mentioning somebody’s name and attaching steroids to it is enough for a baseball player to be tarred and feathered and chased out of the village. It’s even to the point where many people and media members will affect the legacies of ball players on nothing more than mere hunches. Albert Belle? Oh, yeah, he got big and beefy, didn’t he? Plus he was an ass, so asterisk him, too! (Yes, yes, I know, asterisk is not a verb, but neither is Netflix…)

The inflated standard that is set is so ridiculously subjective, yet no one is willing to admit to it. Rafael Palmeiro, Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire and maybe even Roger Clemens now may never see their plaques in the Hall of Fame, due more in part to the clamor raised than the actual or alleged roid use attached to their names. And Jason Grimsley? Who? Ah, that relief pitcher, yes, we all vaguely remember him. Another problem with this witch hunt; many out there only give a hoot about the big salary players, not the lesser known players, or the providers and enablers like BALCO or McNamee, or the owners who essentially turned a blind eye to what was going on in their sport. I’ve always had a moderately-low opinion of commissioner Bud Selig, and seeing him promise to shake things up and strike down the wicked after years of blatant negligence is most bothersome. I don’t want to downplay the players and the union on this too much, but the fact of the matter is that they are the only ones the average fan cares about, even though there is a shared complicity amongst many parties.

Now, Barry Bonds is going to be the defendant in what will be the fifth “trial of the century” that we have had in the last seven years. Another sham. Why, you may ask? Because nobody cares, other than whether or not he’ll admit or be found guilty. Nobody cares what his punishment will be. Most people have made up their mind about who he is and what he has done. Everybody knows that the results won’t change much of anything. And a great deal of taxpayer money will be wasted on it. Like I said, a sham, an attempt by the feds to get the one big kahuna so as to prove they haven’t wasted everybody’s time. The point isn’t legal satisfaction so much as it is public satisfaction, and that alone makes the proceedings a joke.

Inevitably, steroid talk and Barry Bonds talk leads us back to another loathsome topic; the dreaded asterisk. Yep, the sports media’s notion of punishing unlikable players with an asterisk is popular again. And it means just as much as it meant when applied to Roger Maris, which is close to nil. Asterisk enthusiasm is the apex of steroid paranoia. This guy cheated, you say? Asterisk! Brand him forever! More than anything else, more than punishment by the law, or long and indefinite suspensions or even more than exclusion from the Hall, people want a permanent label attached to a player’s record, a lilliputian notation that does little to deny the fact that someone hit over 755 home runs.

What is the biggest problem with the asterisk? You can’t substantiate it. You say Barry Bonds used performance-enhancing drugs? OK, when? Give me a time period. How often? Now determine the lasting metabolic effect on his body. Let’s say he only took steroids in 2001, his single-season HR breaking year. Is an entire career tarnished by one year? Should we pretend that this year didn’t happen? Take those numbers away, and he is still a Hall of Famer for those willing to vote him in.

But maybe getting caught just once is good enough for most out there (seems that way). Fine then, put an asterisk near Barry Bond’s HR record. Do the same for all of his other marks and MVP awards. Now do the same for all other proven, or hell, even alleged players. Let’s have an asterisk next to Ryan Franklin’s 45 career wins and 4.25 ERA (I can hear some of you saying “Who?” already). There, don’tcha feel better? But why stop there? Let’s throw an asterisk at the six players that were caught using corked bats. And what about the spitballers? Yes, yes, we’ve been too lenient on guys like Joe Niekro all these years. And if Pete Rose hasn’t been punished enough for some of you, let’s place an asterisk next to all of the games he managed, because you certainly don’t know how many he may have bet on, do you now?

Asterisk support is nothing more than a small piece of solace for those fans embarrassed by the fact that they were wowed for years by a guy that might have been juiced. And steroid paranoia is nothing more than an over-exaggeration by baseball fans who are always, amazingly, shocked to find out that baseball is not as pristine and innocent as they once thought. Performance-enhancing drug use is a punishable offense and that’s as it should be. But the holier-than-thou attitude adopted by those upset with this part of the game shouldn’t be too quick to judge until they have taken a harder look at baseball people, the media and themselves.