I always feel a moment of panic when I type his last name. Did I spell it correctly? How many r's are there in that name, and where do they go? Does the u come before the e, or is it the other way around? If the last syllable in Guerrero's surname had been spelled similarly to the last syllable in the surname of another Dodger of the early 80's, then I don't think I would ever have the courage to type it out. Guerrereaux. Actually, that would have been a fabulous name. All those e's and r's in a row, the u's near the front and back --- can you imagine seeing that on the back of a uniform, stretching like a rainbow from shoulder to shoulder?
The concept is that three roads intersect at any particular mental idea. In this case the particular mental idea is a former Dodger, an underrated pure hitting talent of the 1980's. This may all seem very strange right now. It should. It will probably seem strange at the end, too.
Find the intersection: What are the three things I think of, remember, contemplate, when I think of Pedro Guerrero? Follow the roads: what do those things I remember about Pedro Guerrero lead to?
June 1985
Pedro Guerrero hit 15 home runs in June of 1985, capping probably the greatest offensive month by a player in Los Angeles Dodger history. The crazy thing is that it wasn't even his best month that year, going by OPS. He had an OPS of 1.297 in June, but an OPS of 1.356 in July. However, since he only hit 4 home runs in July, no one remembers it as anything special.
Pedro hit only 18 home runs in the other five months of 1985. Where did that June come from? How did it happen? Pedro was a terrific hitter, and certainly a power threat, but he wasn't what you would call a reknowned home run hitter. I've always thought the greatest sustained performance by a Dodger I've ever seen was Hershiser's scoreless inning streak, but maybe, maybe --- I don't know. It's not as if Pedro was loading up on road games to hit his home runs, either. Dodger stadium was a tough place to hit home runs in back then, but he still hit 7 of the 15 at home. Yet that's not the really impressive part. He hit four of the home runs in a three game series in the Astrodome. That would be like hitting four home runs in a three game series in Petco Park now!
Sometimes greatness defies explanation or understanding. Pedro Guerrero was a great hitter, better than most people realize. He was underrated for most of his career, playing his home games in hitter's parks and distracting people with his lousy defensive reputation. But for a month, at least, people knew how good Guerrero really was, even if he was doing something rather out of character relative to the rest of his career.
The Slide
When I played in little league I hated sliding. I couldn't slide. I can't remember now what I even did when a situation called for me to slide. Bring my body close to the ground and hope for the best. Pedro Guerrero had trouble sliding too. He tore up his leg in spring training of 1986 trying to slide. He was out for most of the year. The Dodgers went into their own slide, from first place in 1985 to a losing record in 1986, in large part because they didn't have Pedro. During a little league practice that year, right after Pedro's misadventure on the base paths, one of the coaches admonished us to slide properly or risk being hurt the way Pedro had been. Probably he had us go through sliding drills. Jerk.
Happy Birthday
1983, my first year as a Dodger fan. I'm seven years old, except then one day late in the season, I'm eight. It's my birthday. And what do I want to most do on my birthday? Go to a Dodger game. Of course. Go to the stadium, see the team in their home whites, cheer them, see them win. I remember my present that year, probably because I associate it with that game. A lego spaceship, a white fighter with twin cockpits. I always wondered which of the pilots steered the thing. And the game, too, that was the best present of all.
My father took me to the stadium. The opponent was the Astros. They were a good team, in third place, but the Dodgers were better, in first place, on their way to the playoffs. It should have been a great game at the ballpark. Instead, the Dodgers received that game one of the most brutal beatdowns they've ever experienced. The Astros scored 4 in the first, then 5 more in the second, then 3 in the third. They led 12-1 after three innings, and would end up winning 15-2. The Dodgers never had a chance.
When Pedro Guerrero led off the second with a home run, he made the score 9-1. My father turned to me and said Pedro had hit a home run for me on my birthday. But, I protested, the Astros scored all those runs. Why did that happen on my birthday? They got mixed up, he said. They thought you were an Astros fan. Oh.
But at least I got to see the Dodgers' best hitter hit a home run on my birthday. Pedro kept my birthday game from being a total downer. Thanks, Pedro.
10 June 2008
02 June 2008
Goodnight, Everybody
Sometimes it's nice just to hear Vinny's voice. We've just now turned on the TV to watch the Dodger game, in the eighth inning, with the Dodgers up 8-1. I can't see the TV from where I'm sitting but that's okay. It's like radio this way. When I was a kid almost all the games were just radio. On the whole TV is better but sometimes it's fun to be irrationally nostalgic.
I didn't think about the Dodgers at all today. I was dimly aware that there was a game because I know they are in the middle of a long stretch without off-days, but I never looked up any of the particulars, or went to any Dodger sites. Today was my mother's birthday and we went out to dinner tonight so I knew I wouldn't be watching most of the game anyway. My mother is the reason I'm a Dodger fan. When I was 7 years old in the summer of 1983 I finally decided to take an interest in the thing on the radio she was always listening to every night. I don't know at what age I really started to appreciate the brilliance of Vin Scully. I'm not even sure I really truly appreciate it even now as much as I should. I guess that comes with growing up listening to him.
I did briefly think about the Dodgers today when I thought that I really need to write a new entry on the blog. I have nothing right now though. I think I'm in the middle of a transition from thinking the Dodgers have a chance to be a good team to just enjoying the season for what it offers, the weird beauty of baseball. I just can't imagine where this team is going. It's a 0.500 team, I guess. Unless Furcal comes back and plays like he did in April, and Penny finds what he had last year, and the young players start hitting a little more --- well, these are variants on what every fans hopes for --- that the players can just be a little better, a little healthier. I've been hoping for that very thing for 25 summers now. Just play a little better. The winning streak is always ahead of you.
Vinny just had a ball calling a strikeout on a curveball from Proctor. There's some of the weird beauty of baseball. The game is almost over now. In a few minutes Vinny will wrap up the game and say, "Goodnight everybody", and my wife will answer back, "Goodnight, Vinny". On those rare occasions when he doesn't say this at the end of his duties in a night game it's a great disappointment.
As it turned out he didn't say it tonight. Maybe next time.
I didn't think about the Dodgers at all today. I was dimly aware that there was a game because I know they are in the middle of a long stretch without off-days, but I never looked up any of the particulars, or went to any Dodger sites. Today was my mother's birthday and we went out to dinner tonight so I knew I wouldn't be watching most of the game anyway. My mother is the reason I'm a Dodger fan. When I was 7 years old in the summer of 1983 I finally decided to take an interest in the thing on the radio she was always listening to every night. I don't know at what age I really started to appreciate the brilliance of Vin Scully. I'm not even sure I really truly appreciate it even now as much as I should. I guess that comes with growing up listening to him.
I did briefly think about the Dodgers today when I thought that I really need to write a new entry on the blog. I have nothing right now though. I think I'm in the middle of a transition from thinking the Dodgers have a chance to be a good team to just enjoying the season for what it offers, the weird beauty of baseball. I just can't imagine where this team is going. It's a 0.500 team, I guess. Unless Furcal comes back and plays like he did in April, and Penny finds what he had last year, and the young players start hitting a little more --- well, these are variants on what every fans hopes for --- that the players can just be a little better, a little healthier. I've been hoping for that very thing for 25 summers now. Just play a little better. The winning streak is always ahead of you.
Vinny just had a ball calling a strikeout on a curveball from Proctor. There's some of the weird beauty of baseball. The game is almost over now. In a few minutes Vinny will wrap up the game and say, "Goodnight everybody", and my wife will answer back, "Goodnight, Vinny". On those rare occasions when he doesn't say this at the end of his duties in a night game it's a great disappointment.
As it turned out he didn't say it tonight. Maybe next time.
29 May 2008
Give Me Character in the Gap and Over the Fence
When Saito walks multiple batters in an inning it's certain trouble. He was so wild and had so many 3 ball counts that it seems like he walked the tying and winning runs in, even though he didn't. Maybe we should remember it that way. It's more poetic that way, more cruel, more vengefully satisfying. Goodness knows I feel like being cruel after watching the Dodgers get swept. Just as Bill Buckner allowed four runs to score and simultaneously lost games 6 and 7 of the 1986 World Series when he let the ball get through his legs, so can we heap greater shame upon Saito in retrospect. Or perhaps the mountain of shame belongs to Kemp striking out with the bases loaded in the top of the eighth. Someone is going to get it. Where is the character on this team? These young players don't have the will of a warrior. They have the will of a Care Bear.
Now, character and the will of a warrior are tricky concepts. What do they really mean? Aren't these just lazy excuses to rip on young players in a patch of slump or ill luck? No, I will tell you exactly what character is. Character is hitting home runs. Character is pulling a ball into the stands. The Dodgers are last in the National League in home runs, with just 33. Even the Giants are 4 ahead of them. That's LA for you, first in beach balls, last in character. Grit is whacking a ball into the gap and steaming into second. The Dodgers are last in the league in doubles, with 80, 8 behind the woeful Padres. Determination is going the other way deep down the foul line for a shoes-on-fire triple. The Dodgers are not last in triples, the freaky, frisky cousin of the double, but their modest total of 12 isn't enough to pull them out of last in extra-base hits in the National League. Congratulations, Dodgers. The team mascot should be "Losing-with-grace" Bear, the gentlest and softest Care Bear of them all, so soft he has no teeth or claws.
See, it's hard to score runs when all you do is dink singles and draw walks. You've got to have 3 of those events in one inning just to score a run, or even 4 if the walk comes third, as it so often does. It's not a lack of character keeping the Dodgers from scoring and getting clutch hits, it's the difficulty of piling up 4 positive offensive events in one inning. If three out of five ( or four of six ) Dodgers can't avoid making outs in an inning, then they won't score. Is it any wonder that the Dodgers appear to lack character? The degree of difficulty in scoring runs is extreme when you can't skip ahead to second or third or even home on your base hits.
What's the solution? I don't know, something boring and unsatisfying like patience? Maybe some of these young players aren't that good. Maybe they are still a year or two away. Maybe they should close their eyes and swing as hard as they can. I don't know. Do something. The season is still not lost. The Snakes are a mere 3.5 games ahead. If the Dodgers can just start to hit for a little more character they'll be right back in it.
Now, character and the will of a warrior are tricky concepts. What do they really mean? Aren't these just lazy excuses to rip on young players in a patch of slump or ill luck? No, I will tell you exactly what character is. Character is hitting home runs. Character is pulling a ball into the stands. The Dodgers are last in the National League in home runs, with just 33. Even the Giants are 4 ahead of them. That's LA for you, first in beach balls, last in character. Grit is whacking a ball into the gap and steaming into second. The Dodgers are last in the league in doubles, with 80, 8 behind the woeful Padres. Determination is going the other way deep down the foul line for a shoes-on-fire triple. The Dodgers are not last in triples, the freaky, frisky cousin of the double, but their modest total of 12 isn't enough to pull them out of last in extra-base hits in the National League. Congratulations, Dodgers. The team mascot should be "Losing-with-grace" Bear, the gentlest and softest Care Bear of them all, so soft he has no teeth or claws.
See, it's hard to score runs when all you do is dink singles and draw walks. You've got to have 3 of those events in one inning just to score a run, or even 4 if the walk comes third, as it so often does. It's not a lack of character keeping the Dodgers from scoring and getting clutch hits, it's the difficulty of piling up 4 positive offensive events in one inning. If three out of five ( or four of six ) Dodgers can't avoid making outs in an inning, then they won't score. Is it any wonder that the Dodgers appear to lack character? The degree of difficulty in scoring runs is extreme when you can't skip ahead to second or third or even home on your base hits.
What's the solution? I don't know, something boring and unsatisfying like patience? Maybe some of these young players aren't that good. Maybe they are still a year or two away. Maybe they should close their eyes and swing as hard as they can. I don't know. Do something. The season is still not lost. The Snakes are a mere 3.5 games ahead. If the Dodgers can just start to hit for a little more character they'll be right back in it.
25 May 2008
Kershaw Day
Last Tuesday I bought tickets to yesterday's Saturday Dodger game. At the time I knew the starter would be Penny, and that gave me pause, because I feared another poor start from him, but I went ahead with it anyway, since the game time worked well for the rest of the persons coming along. There was a time when I would have targeted a Penny start to attend a game, of course. The last two years he has been the ace, or near enough, except for some late season troubles. But now? He appears to be another once good Dodger pitcher becoming mortal very quickly. I fear we are seeing a repeat of Jeff Weaver or Odalis Perez in him. In my less fearful moments I think he's just regressing to the mean after some seasons when his results were a little above his abilities. And he's had that arm stiffness. That worries me more than anything about Penny. It's both a fear and a rational concern. Pitchers are so fragile. All it takes is one body part out of alignment for a pitcher to start turning in bum performances. And all that is needed for a bum performance is just one inning when the pitches just aren't quite right.
It was so last night in the third inning. All of Penny's great work in the other 6 innings of one-hit ball was rendered moot by his 10 ball, 2 walk extravaganza with two outs in the third. That was made even more frustrating by the generous strike zone the umpire appeared to have. From where I sat he appeared to be calling a lot of outside balls strikes, but Penny couldn't take advantage of even that in the third inning. You could say he got unlucky with some of the hits in the third inning, but it's his own damn fault for putting himself into a position for bad luck to sting with those two walks. After those walks he needed a strikeout to end the inning and he didn't get it. The clutch strikeout is what separates the true ace from the false ace.
When the rumors of Kershaw coming up started Thursday, one of the early theories was that he would pitch on Saturday because of Penny's arm stiffness. I eagerly seized upon this theory as potential truth, because then I would get to see Kershaw's debut in person. I already had the tickets! It seemed like fate.
Now why should I be so excited at the possibility of seeing Kershaw's debut? The truth is given his inning limit and youth he's not likely to help the Dodgers that much this year. He might give them an extra win or two over the innings he pitches that would have gone to some other pitcher instead. Or he might give the Dodgers no extra wins. He's only 20! Well, it's about seeing the start of a great career. But he might not have a great career. It's more likely than not that he won't. He could get injured in the next few years. Just look at what happened to Liriano of the Twins. There is something deeply foolish about my desire to witness in person Kershaw pitch in his first major league game.
It is inconvenient that in baseball any observation made of a team over a single game can be dismissed as meaningless since it was just one game. There are so many, after all. I acknowledge that, but I will still draw significant conclusions from the game I saw in person last night. The Dodgers are a barely-above-0.500 team. Maybe an 84 win team. And it's the offense that's the problem. It disappears in way too many games. It goes away for entire series. Look at Kyle Lohse's stats, his ERA and strikeout rate, and ask if this is a pitcher who should be able to shut down the Dodgers with no runs. I don't want to hear about the Dodgers being unlucky against him or something. Unlucky is losing 4-2 to Kyle Lohse. Bad is losing to him 4-0. Yeah, the offense will come back and look great in some future series. But then the starting pitching may disappear. This isn't a great team, and it doesn't seem like a particularly good team either. The Dodgers seem to be a year away. A year to get rid of more of the old deadwood players, a year for the young players to get even better.
So, if I think I'm watching a barely-above-0.500 team, it's even more important to find joys other than those associated with winning lots of games during the baseball season. It can't always be about winning lots and lots of games, not even if you're a Yankees fan. There have to be victory-neutral joys as well. One of those, for me, is watching the young players blossom. My favorite is Matt Kemp, though that didn't work out too well last night, when he struck out about 6 times and just missed a great diving catch in the ill-fated third inning. My wife teases me about my enthusiasm for Kemp, calling him the golden boy. Even the golden boy will have some leaden days, I guess. And then there's Clayton Kershaw. He's the next big thing, they say. I like to say it too. And it's not just words --- we saw the possibilities in Spring Training.
I was disappointed when it came out that Kershaw would be the Sunday starter rather than the Saturday starter. If I had known that I would have bought tickets to the Sunday game instead. Going to a Dodger game at the stadium isn't a trivial thing for me, since it's a two hour drive to get there. Going to a night game means getting home at midnight or later, usually. So if I was already going to the Saturday game, I couldn't go to the Sunday game, right? I said as much to my wife, who replied that I should just go ahead and buy tickets for the Sunday game. And I did. We're going. We get to see Kershaw make his debut, unless my secret fear comes true and he's scratched at the last minute. I had to slightly reschedule a barbecue we were supposed to have with my mother and sister today because of this. When I called my mother to explain why I changing already set plans and driving back Sunday for a game after we had driven down to see the Saturday game, the best way I could explain it was with something that is probably not true but is also honestly how I feel about today. Seeing Kershaw's debut is like seeing Koufax make his first ever major league start.
It was so last night in the third inning. All of Penny's great work in the other 6 innings of one-hit ball was rendered moot by his 10 ball, 2 walk extravaganza with two outs in the third. That was made even more frustrating by the generous strike zone the umpire appeared to have. From where I sat he appeared to be calling a lot of outside balls strikes, but Penny couldn't take advantage of even that in the third inning. You could say he got unlucky with some of the hits in the third inning, but it's his own damn fault for putting himself into a position for bad luck to sting with those two walks. After those walks he needed a strikeout to end the inning and he didn't get it. The clutch strikeout is what separates the true ace from the false ace.
When the rumors of Kershaw coming up started Thursday, one of the early theories was that he would pitch on Saturday because of Penny's arm stiffness. I eagerly seized upon this theory as potential truth, because then I would get to see Kershaw's debut in person. I already had the tickets! It seemed like fate.
Now why should I be so excited at the possibility of seeing Kershaw's debut? The truth is given his inning limit and youth he's not likely to help the Dodgers that much this year. He might give them an extra win or two over the innings he pitches that would have gone to some other pitcher instead. Or he might give the Dodgers no extra wins. He's only 20! Well, it's about seeing the start of a great career. But he might not have a great career. It's more likely than not that he won't. He could get injured in the next few years. Just look at what happened to Liriano of the Twins. There is something deeply foolish about my desire to witness in person Kershaw pitch in his first major league game.
It is inconvenient that in baseball any observation made of a team over a single game can be dismissed as meaningless since it was just one game. There are so many, after all. I acknowledge that, but I will still draw significant conclusions from the game I saw in person last night. The Dodgers are a barely-above-0.500 team. Maybe an 84 win team. And it's the offense that's the problem. It disappears in way too many games. It goes away for entire series. Look at Kyle Lohse's stats, his ERA and strikeout rate, and ask if this is a pitcher who should be able to shut down the Dodgers with no runs. I don't want to hear about the Dodgers being unlucky against him or something. Unlucky is losing 4-2 to Kyle Lohse. Bad is losing to him 4-0. Yeah, the offense will come back and look great in some future series. But then the starting pitching may disappear. This isn't a great team, and it doesn't seem like a particularly good team either. The Dodgers seem to be a year away. A year to get rid of more of the old deadwood players, a year for the young players to get even better.
So, if I think I'm watching a barely-above-0.500 team, it's even more important to find joys other than those associated with winning lots of games during the baseball season. It can't always be about winning lots and lots of games, not even if you're a Yankees fan. There have to be victory-neutral joys as well. One of those, for me, is watching the young players blossom. My favorite is Matt Kemp, though that didn't work out too well last night, when he struck out about 6 times and just missed a great diving catch in the ill-fated third inning. My wife teases me about my enthusiasm for Kemp, calling him the golden boy. Even the golden boy will have some leaden days, I guess. And then there's Clayton Kershaw. He's the next big thing, they say. I like to say it too. And it's not just words --- we saw the possibilities in Spring Training.
I was disappointed when it came out that Kershaw would be the Sunday starter rather than the Saturday starter. If I had known that I would have bought tickets to the Sunday game instead. Going to a Dodger game at the stadium isn't a trivial thing for me, since it's a two hour drive to get there. Going to a night game means getting home at midnight or later, usually. So if I was already going to the Saturday game, I couldn't go to the Sunday game, right? I said as much to my wife, who replied that I should just go ahead and buy tickets for the Sunday game. And I did. We're going. We get to see Kershaw make his debut, unless my secret fear comes true and he's scratched at the last minute. I had to slightly reschedule a barbecue we were supposed to have with my mother and sister today because of this. When I called my mother to explain why I changing already set plans and driving back Sunday for a game after we had driven down to see the Saturday game, the best way I could explain it was with something that is probably not true but is also honestly how I feel about today. Seeing Kershaw's debut is like seeing Koufax make his first ever major league start.
21 May 2008
I still want him back
So Mike Piazza has retired. I read about it on Dodger Thoughts. I feel like it's 1998 again. The wound is back, reopened. How could this happen? How could the Dodgers let him go into the history books as a New York Met? How could those other Dodger fans boo him when he returned? He was the best we ever saw! It is so senseless, to take out the frustration on the one we loved. But it does make horrible human sense. I think people were angry at him for him existing and thriving after he left. If we can't have him no one can. BOOOOOOOOO! TRAITOR! Obviously he wanted to hurt us. And so let's hurt him back.
I think of Johan Santana. The Mets stole another great one this year from the team that raised him and fans that loved him. Everyone loses when things happens this way. The legend of the player is diminished. Memories become divided. The sweetness and joy is tainted with anger and regret. Piazza and Santana have come to Mets fans as legends already. Yes, I'm sure Mets fans appreciated and loved Piazza. The same will happen with Santana. Both players will go in the Hall as Mets. But it's not Mets fans who saw Piazza and Santana become Hall of Famers. Those Mets fans are getting less than half the experience, really. As much as they may appreciate Piazza and Santana it will never compare to how they feel about David Wright, I'm guessing.
I worry that the Dodgers will let Russell Martin or Matt Kemp get away. Have we learned from our mistakes? No, the truth is even worse. It's not seen as a mistake. The only things that matter are money and winning. No matter what an organization may talk about, almost every decision made is based on some combination of money and winning. If you're lucky, it's mostly about winning. But in the case of Piazza it was money. Piazza wanted to be paid like the player he was. You can argue that he asked for too much if you want. Just don't argue that he asked out. The Dodgers made no good faith effort to keep him. They turned on him, and at the same time turned on the fans.
I doubt that the Dodgers will get a chance to repeat the same magnitude of mistake they made with Piazza. We won't likely see a hitter as great as he was pass our way soon again. We have a lot of good young players now that I don't want to see get away. But they aren't as good, not yet, anyway. None of these guys can hit .360 with 40 home runs. None of them seem like sure Hall of Famers yet. Piazza did by his third year.
What I am left with is sadness. I wish I could get over it. Well, I have, mostly. But it all came back today. It's just that Piazza's retirement hit me in a way I didn't expect. I know why. It's because, secretly I always hoped he would come back. Even if it never really made any sense, even if he would never do it, even if he had moved on and was beloved by a new set of fans, I desperately wanted to see Piazza back in a Dodger uniform. Even after he was a shadow of his former self, when his defense behind the plate had become truly atrocious and his once elite hitting had declined to mortal 0.800 OPS levels, I wanted him back. Even now, my mind spins with crazy theories, that he could be lured out of retirement to be Martin's backup.
I remember the time Curt Schilling openly marveled at the high fastball Piazza had hit for a home run against him --- he couldn't believe Piazza had gotten around on the pitch --- it was the ultimate tip of the cap from an opposing pitcher. I remember the balls Pizza hit out of Dodger stadium, impossibly far and high, off the roof and into the parking lot. I remember the Fox Saturday game when he was pelting balls to every corner of the ballpark for doubles, and the announcers were beside themselves talking about how good Piazza was. I remember when as a rookie Piazza helped end the Giants season, and at the same time brought the Dodgers to a .500 record after they had sunk to 99 losses the year before. Those are memories --- what I want is a future with Piazza as a Dodger. Future memories.
I want to see Piazza in a Dodger uniform again. It's ten years and seven days since his last game in a Dodger uniform and I still want it. And I won't get it. Piazza will never wear a Dodger cap again. Not even on his Hall of Fame plague. And the truth is he shouldn't. The organization and the fans don't deserve it.
The sadness now is that hope is gone. Piazza is retired. The story is done. He never came back.
I think of Johan Santana. The Mets stole another great one this year from the team that raised him and fans that loved him. Everyone loses when things happens this way. The legend of the player is diminished. Memories become divided. The sweetness and joy is tainted with anger and regret. Piazza and Santana have come to Mets fans as legends already. Yes, I'm sure Mets fans appreciated and loved Piazza. The same will happen with Santana. Both players will go in the Hall as Mets. But it's not Mets fans who saw Piazza and Santana become Hall of Famers. Those Mets fans are getting less than half the experience, really. As much as they may appreciate Piazza and Santana it will never compare to how they feel about David Wright, I'm guessing.
I worry that the Dodgers will let Russell Martin or Matt Kemp get away. Have we learned from our mistakes? No, the truth is even worse. It's not seen as a mistake. The only things that matter are money and winning. No matter what an organization may talk about, almost every decision made is based on some combination of money and winning. If you're lucky, it's mostly about winning. But in the case of Piazza it was money. Piazza wanted to be paid like the player he was. You can argue that he asked for too much if you want. Just don't argue that he asked out. The Dodgers made no good faith effort to keep him. They turned on him, and at the same time turned on the fans.
I doubt that the Dodgers will get a chance to repeat the same magnitude of mistake they made with Piazza. We won't likely see a hitter as great as he was pass our way soon again. We have a lot of good young players now that I don't want to see get away. But they aren't as good, not yet, anyway. None of these guys can hit .360 with 40 home runs. None of them seem like sure Hall of Famers yet. Piazza did by his third year.
What I am left with is sadness. I wish I could get over it. Well, I have, mostly. But it all came back today. It's just that Piazza's retirement hit me in a way I didn't expect. I know why. It's because, secretly I always hoped he would come back. Even if it never really made any sense, even if he would never do it, even if he had moved on and was beloved by a new set of fans, I desperately wanted to see Piazza back in a Dodger uniform. Even after he was a shadow of his former self, when his defense behind the plate had become truly atrocious and his once elite hitting had declined to mortal 0.800 OPS levels, I wanted him back. Even now, my mind spins with crazy theories, that he could be lured out of retirement to be Martin's backup.
I remember the time Curt Schilling openly marveled at the high fastball Piazza had hit for a home run against him --- he couldn't believe Piazza had gotten around on the pitch --- it was the ultimate tip of the cap from an opposing pitcher. I remember the balls Pizza hit out of Dodger stadium, impossibly far and high, off the roof and into the parking lot. I remember the Fox Saturday game when he was pelting balls to every corner of the ballpark for doubles, and the announcers were beside themselves talking about how good Piazza was. I remember when as a rookie Piazza helped end the Giants season, and at the same time brought the Dodgers to a .500 record after they had sunk to 99 losses the year before. Those are memories --- what I want is a future with Piazza as a Dodger. Future memories.
I want to see Piazza in a Dodger uniform again. It's ten years and seven days since his last game in a Dodger uniform and I still want it. And I won't get it. Piazza will never wear a Dodger cap again. Not even on his Hall of Fame plague. And the truth is he shouldn't. The organization and the fans don't deserve it.
The sadness now is that hope is gone. Piazza is retired. The story is done. He never came back.
19 May 2008
I want to play
He got me. I struck out. I guess I could say now that I was fooled by the pitch, but at the time, when that 0-2 pitch was coming, my mind was just filled with desperate haze, and all I knew was that it was time to swing. See, you can't fool a man who's about to swing out of some primitive instinct. That pitch might as well have been the mythical gyroball, because I guess I never had a shot of hitting it.
I want to go back up. I want another chance. I love the moment when the crowd is all staring at me, when it's like waves of pressure coming in at me. They want me to hit the ball somewhere special. But it's also the thrill of not knowing. They don't know what they'll see. I don't know what I'll do. I'm competing against that guy on the mound. I'm better than him. I'm better than you. That what I'm trying to say with every swing. I'm alive. I'm striving. And then when I'm not up anymore, I'm invisible. The crowd stops watching me after I strike out. They forget about me! I need to get back to that place. I need to get up off the bench, and walk up to the plate, into the pressure again.
The bench is the worst. All I can do is watch and imagine it's me up there. Imagine what I could do, while those other guys are alive. Those lucky bums, swinging, striving. With fierce smiles when they reach first base. That should be me! I know I could do it. It will be different next time.
The eternal bench is the dread that I can't even acknowledge. It's the terror behind the blank expression you see on my face when I'm not in the game. The eternal bench is the one you never leave. No more swings. No more exhilaration at the hits and despair at the strikeouts. All that I will feel is white noise forever. I will do anything to keep that away. I must play.
They told me I can't play anymore. Look at your stats, they say. Look at all these strikeouts. No! That's just me striving. Let me get back up just one more time, and I'll show you something different. They shake their heads sadly. You're done, old man. I can't believe they called me old man. I feel like I'm being measured for my coffin.
Maybe Jeff Kent has reached the moment of the eternal bench. Maybe not. He's far away from the point when they come for him, and tell him he's done. Is he the sort who is at peace with not playing? He would say that, wouldn't he? He almost didn't come back this year. But he did come back. And I wonder. How badly does he want to play, to swing? Will he resist if they come for his job? But would they come for his job? Maybe in a few months. No one is safe, not really.
What about Nomar? His body is telling him it's time. His body is dragging him to the bench. This time it's his calf. Next time it will be something else. Is he wondering if this could really be all there is of his once wonderful career? How could it end this way? Oh, he can probably drag it out for years. Join the Rangers next year, maybe. Then the Padres. Then the Giants. Or maybe he just decides it's time. Sometimes they do. How do they walk away?
I want to go back up. I want another chance. I love the moment when the crowd is all staring at me, when it's like waves of pressure coming in at me. They want me to hit the ball somewhere special. But it's also the thrill of not knowing. They don't know what they'll see. I don't know what I'll do. I'm competing against that guy on the mound. I'm better than him. I'm better than you. That what I'm trying to say with every swing. I'm alive. I'm striving. And then when I'm not up anymore, I'm invisible. The crowd stops watching me after I strike out. They forget about me! I need to get back to that place. I need to get up off the bench, and walk up to the plate, into the pressure again.
The bench is the worst. All I can do is watch and imagine it's me up there. Imagine what I could do, while those other guys are alive. Those lucky bums, swinging, striving. With fierce smiles when they reach first base. That should be me! I know I could do it. It will be different next time.
The eternal bench is the dread that I can't even acknowledge. It's the terror behind the blank expression you see on my face when I'm not in the game. The eternal bench is the one you never leave. No more swings. No more exhilaration at the hits and despair at the strikeouts. All that I will feel is white noise forever. I will do anything to keep that away. I must play.
They told me I can't play anymore. Look at your stats, they say. Look at all these strikeouts. No! That's just me striving. Let me get back up just one more time, and I'll show you something different. They shake their heads sadly. You're done, old man. I can't believe they called me old man. I feel like I'm being measured for my coffin.
Maybe Jeff Kent has reached the moment of the eternal bench. Maybe not. He's far away from the point when they come for him, and tell him he's done. Is he the sort who is at peace with not playing? He would say that, wouldn't he? He almost didn't come back this year. But he did come back. And I wonder. How badly does he want to play, to swing? Will he resist if they come for his job? But would they come for his job? Maybe in a few months. No one is safe, not really.
What about Nomar? His body is telling him it's time. His body is dragging him to the bench. This time it's his calf. Next time it will be something else. Is he wondering if this could really be all there is of his once wonderful career? How could it end this way? Oh, he can probably drag it out for years. Join the Rangers next year, maybe. Then the Padres. Then the Giants. Or maybe he just decides it's time. Sometimes they do. How do they walk away?
16 May 2008
I'm trying to quit
What a gift it is to have good young players, guys you can root for, win or lose. Guys who you want to see grow and learn and thrive, who will bring frustration but also promise and exuberance and excitement. And what a waste it is to squander this gift. To let Andy LaRoche linger in AAA. To threaten Blake DeWitt with Nomar Garciaparra. To make both Matt Kemp and Andre Ethier have to look over their shoulders at Juan Pierre. I don't want to write about this anymore. I'm so $#^&@!& tired of it. It's boring and depressing to read the complaints about who the Dodgers play and the young players they screw around with and block.
So, yeah, I guess I just conceded that the last paragraph was boring and depressing. This is a lot like recent Dodger games. That five game losing streak, in particular. I can take the losing if the best, most promising players are the ones doing it. But if I have to watch them lose with Juan Pierre leading off? Forget about it. Really, my interest in the Dodgers has dropped so low in this last week --- you could almost call me a fair weather fan now. I blame Colletti and Torre. Sheesh, I almost typed Little. I can't even get my head in the right year.
But deep down I'm not a fair weather fan. I tried to boycott Wednesday's game, but eventually I came back, turned it on, saw the Dodgers down 4-3. I was sort of defiant at that point. Like, is that as bad as you can suck, Dodgers? If you're going to lose six in a row you might as well get blown out. But really a one-run loss is better: more painful for the fans who foolishly think the team ever had a chance. And then the Dodgers went ahead and scored three runs. I remember watching Pierre and hating myself for rooting for him to get a hit and then being stunned when he hit that ball in the gap. It's really messed up to be upset about rooting for a player, isn't it? I don't hate Pierre --- I hate his contract, and I hate how managers can't see how bad he is. But I don't hate Pierre. If I did that would make me a jerk, and I'm trying to quit. Insert obligatory sentence about what a nice guy Pierre is. Follow up with sentence about how hard he works. ( Query: if he's such a hard worker how come he can't bunt worth %$&#? )
Thursday's game I mostly missed because of work. I hear rumors of Billingsley pitching a gem. Yeah, could be. I also hear rumors that Bennett, Kent and Jones hit home runs in the same inning. Yeah right. I think some beat writer is having everyone on.
Thursday was a day for the Dodgers to show what they haven't had a whole lot of this year. Power and pure pitching. I mean they have guys who are capable of pitching a gem, but rarely do they actually do it. Everyone in the rotation is capable of greatness except for Chan Ho Park who sucks. Maybe if I keep saying how bad Park is he'll keep proving me wrong. I'd be okay with that.
Truthfully I'm much more excited to watch the Lakers play tonight than the Dodger game. The thing I love about watching the Lakers is that they don't have any overpaid vets who steal playing time away from the young, promising players. Even when someone like Farmar is out there screwing up at least I know that he's learning from this and should get better. It's so great not to have to watch Kwame Brown play center and fumble passes out of bounds anymore. Lordy loo that was excruciating. It was even worse than seeing Pierre pop out on a 3-1 pitch or seeing Pierre bloop a throw to the infield. It's too bad the Dodgers can't trade Pierre's expiring contract for something good. I wish baseball had an NBA-style salary cap. The beauty of the cap is that even horrible contracts end up having a good side because they eventually become expiring contracts that can be traded for good things ( unless you're Isiah Thomas ) or held onto to give you new cap space that lets you sign a new overpriced bust free agent. Baseball could use that. It would really help me deal with the Pierre situation.
So, yeah, I guess I just conceded that the last paragraph was boring and depressing. This is a lot like recent Dodger games. That five game losing streak, in particular. I can take the losing if the best, most promising players are the ones doing it. But if I have to watch them lose with Juan Pierre leading off? Forget about it. Really, my interest in the Dodgers has dropped so low in this last week --- you could almost call me a fair weather fan now. I blame Colletti and Torre. Sheesh, I almost typed Little. I can't even get my head in the right year.
But deep down I'm not a fair weather fan. I tried to boycott Wednesday's game, but eventually I came back, turned it on, saw the Dodgers down 4-3. I was sort of defiant at that point. Like, is that as bad as you can suck, Dodgers? If you're going to lose six in a row you might as well get blown out. But really a one-run loss is better: more painful for the fans who foolishly think the team ever had a chance. And then the Dodgers went ahead and scored three runs. I remember watching Pierre and hating myself for rooting for him to get a hit and then being stunned when he hit that ball in the gap. It's really messed up to be upset about rooting for a player, isn't it? I don't hate Pierre --- I hate his contract, and I hate how managers can't see how bad he is. But I don't hate Pierre. If I did that would make me a jerk, and I'm trying to quit. Insert obligatory sentence about what a nice guy Pierre is. Follow up with sentence about how hard he works. ( Query: if he's such a hard worker how come he can't bunt worth %$&#? )
Thursday's game I mostly missed because of work. I hear rumors of Billingsley pitching a gem. Yeah, could be. I also hear rumors that Bennett, Kent and Jones hit home runs in the same inning. Yeah right. I think some beat writer is having everyone on.
Thursday was a day for the Dodgers to show what they haven't had a whole lot of this year. Power and pure pitching. I mean they have guys who are capable of pitching a gem, but rarely do they actually do it. Everyone in the rotation is capable of greatness except for Chan Ho Park who sucks. Maybe if I keep saying how bad Park is he'll keep proving me wrong. I'd be okay with that.
Truthfully I'm much more excited to watch the Lakers play tonight than the Dodger game. The thing I love about watching the Lakers is that they don't have any overpaid vets who steal playing time away from the young, promising players. Even when someone like Farmar is out there screwing up at least I know that he's learning from this and should get better. It's so great not to have to watch Kwame Brown play center and fumble passes out of bounds anymore. Lordy loo that was excruciating. It was even worse than seeing Pierre pop out on a 3-1 pitch or seeing Pierre bloop a throw to the infield. It's too bad the Dodgers can't trade Pierre's expiring contract for something good. I wish baseball had an NBA-style salary cap. The beauty of the cap is that even horrible contracts end up having a good side because they eventually become expiring contracts that can be traded for good things ( unless you're Isiah Thomas ) or held onto to give you new cap space that lets you sign a new overpriced bust free agent. Baseball could use that. It would really help me deal with the Pierre situation.
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