My Elbow. Manny Machado’s Knee.

Posted on September 24, 2013 by Jackie, The Baseball Bloggess

Manny Machado. August 20, 2013 vs. the Oakland A’s. Photo Credit: me!

Two years ago I tore up the tendons in my left elbow. Giving too many massages, going a little too deep, doing a little too much. (Trust me, massage may be peaceful on the outside, but it’s brutal on the inside.)

Each time I did a massage, my arm ached. The discomfort was one thing, but the emotional toll was, in many ways, much worse. What if I am doing permanent damage? What if I can’t do massage anymore? What if it hurts forever?

When a doctor diagnosed it as “pitcher’s elbow” I thought, well, that’s pretty cool – if I’m going to have a stupid injury it might as well be a baseball one.

It took more than a year, but today that elbow is nearly good as new (thanks mostly to Yoga, laser therapy, and patience). Nearly. But, now the right elbow is torn up … same thing, different arm.

So the cycle begins again.

Which brings me to my broken heart.

As the post-season hopes for the Baltimore Orioles grew dimmer and dimmer this weekend, their third-baseman Manny Machado was badly injured on Monday in a freakish knee twist that came as he was running to first base. His season is over.

He looked stricken far beyond the physical pain. (I think he started to cry.) And, I wonder if the physical pain was as bad as the emotional pain? What about next season? How bad is it? How long will it take? What if it doesn’t get better? To go from Superstar to disabled list on a stupid, routine play.

I’ve been an Orioles fan for nearly 30 years. And, in all that time, I have only one Orioles shirt with a number on it, with a name. I never even got a Cal Ripken jersey (although I’d be proud to wear one). I celebrate the team. I don’t like getting bogged down in picking a favorite player.

(Players can let you down. I’m looking at you, Rafael Palmeiro.)

Until last year, when I got this …

Manny Machado – the barely 21-year-old poster child for the Orioles’ exciting and bright future — made me break my rule.

Because he hits doubles like crazy. And, does amazing things like this …

And, this …

Nowadays, when my elbow feels good, everything is good. But, when my elbow feels bad, which is still a lot of the time, I get frustrated. I worry about the quality of the massage I am giving. I worry about the long-term damage I might be causing.

I love what I do. What will I do, if I can’t do this?

My office is in a small rural community. I keep my massage prices low so people can afford me. So I see a lot of clients from all walks – many dealing with chronic pain from repetitive stress and work-related damage. Pain much worse than my crabby elbow tendons.

Construction workers, butchers, ranchers and farmers, plumbers, nurses, truck drivers, carpenters, mail carriers, police officers, piece workers.

All I can hope to do is try to take the edge off for them, to work out the sticky places, loosen things up, and maybe give them some brief relief.

One client, who deals with daily pain from her job, said to me recently, “There’s no other jobs out there. I can’t afford to lose this one.” She worries every night that she won’t be able to “hold together” enough to work.

I suppose Manny thought some of those same sorts of things. From invincible to injured in a blink.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter whether you make a million dollars or just scrape by. Injury is the great equalizer.

It can take away your job and your paycheck. It can take away something you love. Just like that.

But, there’s some good news.

Manny’s MRI showed a tear to a ligament that helps stabilize and protect the kneecap. A painful injury, but one that generally heals on its own after six to eight weeks of rest and rehab. It could have been much worse.

I’m not 21 anymore. Healing is much better, much faster, when you’re 21, like Manny.

And, Manny has access to resources that many of us don’t. He has a team of doctors and therapists who will help him recover. (Hopefully, he has an awesome massage therapist. And, yoga therapist. And, if not … well, I hope the Orioles finally look me up.)

So, no worries, Manny … my heart is broken for you today. But, I know you’ll heal. You have to. Baseball’s no fun without you.

And, for those of us who hurt a little – or a lot – doing what we love, we want you to get better. We need you to get better. So you can inspire us to heal, too.

This Isn’t Baseball. This Is September.

Posted on September 21, 2013 by Jackie, The Baseball Bloggess

Baseball is a wonderful game. Win or lose, it makes me happy. But, it can be especially stressful this time of year. Losing stinks in September.

I admitted to my friend Jay that a game earlier this week stressed me out so much I started to cry (just a little bit). He reminded me, “There is no crying in baseball.” My response: “This isn’t baseball. This is September.”

Just a few games left to go in the regular season. The Baltimore Orioles are hanging on … still in the running for the post-season. Just barely.

But, they need to win their next few games or their season will be over just as October begins.

If my team is going to lose a game, I ask just four things of them …

1) Don’t get no-hit.

2) Don’t get shut out.

3) Don’t get hurt.

4) Don’t take all night to lose.

They violated Rule #4 last night/this morning – taking 18 innings and nearly seven hours to lose to the Tampa Bay Rays. It was the longest game in Orioles’ history. Sigh.

After long games, Orioles Manager Buck Showalter will always say, “Sleep fast.”

Because there’s another game today. Another chance to win.

Orioles Pitcher Miguel Gonzalez — starts today against Tampa Bay. Go Miguel!
photo credit: me!

It’s not over yet. Gotta find a new lucky shirt to wear (I’ve squeezed all the luck out of my few trusty favorites.)

And, I’ll sleep in November.

Sea Monkeys, Math, & Football

Posted on September 12, 2013 by Jackie, The Baseball Bloggess

Come September, you start to see a lot of “baseball is better than football” essays. Baseball fans have been compiling these lists for years.

None, of course, is better than George Carlin’s “baseball vs. football”.

And, so I share it with you here.

Sadly, in a moment of weakness, I started to compile my own list.

It was stupid. And, so I stopped.

If you love baseball, then you already know why it will always be far superior to football.

In the same way that cats and dogs are far superior to Sea Monkeys. Which is to say VERY, VERY Super Superior.

Stevie: Purrfect

Sea Monkeys: Bitter Disappointment

If you’re still wavering, I don’t know what I can say to convince you. Maybe you watch football the same way many NASCAR fans watch auto racing — just waiting to see someone get smooshed, flattened, tackled, or sacked.

Baseball avoids carnage and bloodshed whenever possible. When it does happen, no one cheers. This, bottom line, is why it will always be superior to football in my book.

Hey, I know football. I was a San Francisco 49ers fan for many, many years. But, I boycott it now, because it is increasingly grisly, unnecessarily violent, and has destroyed the quality of life for many former athletes (from NFL-level players to the unfortunate high school and college players who are reminded about rough hits when the arthritis starts to set in around age 30). I yammered on about my boycott last season here.

Oh, sure you can Google “football is better than baseball” and some links will come up.

I found a list of 25 reasons – shared by CBS Sports. Why is football better than baseball? I kid you not, this was reason three.

#3. Football statistics are simple and involve little mathematics to compute.

If the lack of math is really the thing that makes football superior, I’m still marveling that this guy was able to coherently count to 25 for his list.

OK, let’s try a little football math:

2 Touchdowns + 1 Touchdown – 1 Missed Point After + 2 Field Goals + 1 Safety = How Many Points? *

OK, how about this:

1 3-Run Homer = How Many Runs? **

Oh, goodie, there’s more.

#17. Coaches spend more time coaching in football. Baseball managers only manage.

This doesn’t even make sense. It’s gibberish.

#23. Football rivalries are bitter and plentiful.

You’re joking, right?

Dodgers vs. Giants? Yankees vs. Red Sox?

Yankees vs. everyone else?

Baseball teams play 162 games a season – even more if you make it to the playoffs and World Series. 162 games is a lot of games and a lot of time to brew some historic rivalries.

Heck, baseball rivalries are so hot, even the managers get in fights – as the Orioles’ Buck Showalter and Yankees’ Joe Girardi proved just a few nights ago. Click here. (Go Buck!)

If you’re a football team and you’re playing another team just once a season, if that, I’m not sure how a lasting rivalry can even start. “Hi, you must be the Jacksonville Jaguars. I guess we’re playing you today. Gosh, I didn’t even know there was a team here. What state is this?”

His number one reason why football is better?

#1. Football is the ultimate team sport. All 11 players are involved on every play.

Does he even realize that an entirely DIFFERENT football team plays offense than the one that plays defense? Add in special teams – and it’s a THREE-TEAM “team sport”. As I’m sure you know, a baseball player is expected to play both offense and defense (except for those pitcher/DH guys in the American League.)

What to take away from this thoughtful list?

When dining out with football fans, be a pal and offer to calculate the tip for them. It will save them from math-phobic paralysis.

Now, back to baseball.

Here’s one George Carlin missed.

Baseball is better than football, because in baseball you, the fan, can catch a ball. If you catch it, you get to keep it.

You can even bring your glove to help you out.

If you make a clean catch, the fans around you will cheer.

It happens at every game in every ballpark every night.

And, on Tuesday night, a grandmother celebrated her birthday at the Giants’ game. Took her glove. And, snagged a souvenir.

And, then she danced.

Watch it, here.

And that is why baseball will always be better than football.

Oh, and this. (Hi, Manny!)

* 28

** 3

Free Baseball: “How Did Everything Go So Bad, So Fast?” Edition

Posted on August 15, 2013 by Jackie, The Baseball Bloggess

Free Baseball refers to extra innings in a game.

You know the ones.Your team has a cozy, comfortable lead going into the late innings, and then the bullpen comes out, but things somehow start to go badly, the pitchers go sour and give up runs, lots of runs, homeruns, all sorts of runs, and the comfortable lead vanishes and suddenly the game is tied, and so the game continues for a few more innings, but your bats are cold, no one can hit, and you run out of relievers, and then you give up the game-winning run to the other team, and then the game is over, and you lost. Then you go out and do the very same thing the next day.

Just hypothetical, of course. Unless you’re a Baltimore Orioles fan, in which case, this is suddenly reality.

Sigh.

So, for your extra innings today … a few things to help settle the bullpen down, and to kill some time because it hurts just a little too much to talk about baseball today.

10th INNING ~ Get Smarter

Maybe our bullpen pitchers need to sharpen up the old coconuts. Get a little smarter, sharper, quicker.

A friend of mine recently turned me on to Lumosity.com, which offers you a few minutes of games and puzzles each day as a means to keep your mind sharp and your brain supple. My friend is pretty smart, so I thought I would give it a go. I’ve been at it for a month or so. I still don’t understand physics, but maybe I am a bit quicker at finding my car keys in the morning. So, progress.

There’s a free version and a subscription version, which offers a few extra games each day. Try it out and let me know how you do feeding all those bloody confusing fish in that stupid koi pond.

11th INNING ~ Get Peaceful

Science has shown that meditation can soothe the mind and quiet the brain. Maybe it’s time to get your OM on. I heard a story this morning that reported on how meditation can help repair damage to the brain in soldiers suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). You can find it here.

But, everyone can benefit from a bit of stillness. And, even if you’ve only got a minute … good enough. Try a one-minute meditation, here.

Maybe the bullpen pitchers can try a bit of quiet reflection, rather than flirting with the girls nearby, or throwing sunflower seeds at each other.

12th INNING ~ Get Bears!

So, if your team just got swept, your batters and your bullpen let you down (and no, my blog post about bullpens this week did not jinx them … it couldn’t of, could it?), then the only thing left are bear cubs.

The Wildlife Center of Virginia has 16 of them … and they’re all on the Critter Cam. You really do need to watch them. You’ll forget all about how your favorite team let you down this week. Watch here (try Cam 1 … that’s where they’re usually hanging out.)

photo courtesy of the Wildlife Center of Virginia

Oh God, they’re so cute.

Enjoy this free baseball … the Orioles’ amazing comeback begins tomorrow!

In Praise Of The Bullpen

Posted on August 13, 2013 by Jackie, The Baseball Bloggess

“The two most important things in life are good friends and a strong bullpen.” ~ Bob Lemon (Cleveland Indians Pitcher, 1941-1958. Manager of the Royals, White Sox, & Yankees.)

What’s the difference between my good friends and the Orioles’ bullpen?

None of my friends melted down on Monday night. (Also, not as much spitting. Thank you for that.)

The Baltimore Orioles’ bullpen fell apart Monday night in Arizona. (It’s was a pitchfork-hot 108 in Phoenix yesterday, but that was nothing compared to the meltdown inside Chase Field.)

One by one the Oriole relievers came out to the mound. One by one, they gave up runs. Tying runs, go ahead runs, tying runs, go ahead runs.

Finally, with the game tied in the ninth, Darren O’Day, the trusty sidearmer, came out, threw one ball – just one lousy pitch. Emphasis on lousy. Homerun. Game over.

Oh sure, we all have bad days. But, I’m grateful that I don’t have thousands of people peering over my shoulder, second-guessing, and jeering when I have mine. It’s a gift, I think, to endure a bad day in the shadows … where no one can see you sulk.

The Orioles weren’t the only team with a leaky bullpen last night. By the end of the night, there were three blown saves recorded in that game. THREE. And, only one belonged to the Orioles. The Diamondbacks won, despite two blown saves from their relievers.

So, a bad night to be a reliever.

Baseball fans say that a lot.

But, instead of jeering and heckling and second-guessing, I’m here to praise the bullpen. The Orioles bullpen. Every bullpen.

Next to Umpires, the most thankless job in baseball.

It’s where starting pitchers are punished. A few bad outings, a few hinky pitches, and a starting pitcher is banished to the ‘pen. One is seldom “promoted” to the bullpen.

(And, how about the use of “hinky” in a sentence? I should stop right now.)

It’s where mascots are crammed together, squeezed in tight with the relievers, as they await a race around the warning track.

If you look carefully, you can make out the AA New Hampshire Fisher Cat relievers in the bullpen trying to ignore all the mascots.

It’s where Minnesota Twins’ relievers spend a year patiently waiting for that one brief perfect moment to prank the cameras. Oh, come on I know you want to watch … here.

It’s where pitchers catch homeruns in their caps.

It’s where rookies carry backpacks filled with candy and snacks. (What else is there to do while you wait for your starting pitcher to fall apart?)

MLB.com @Cut4 via Twitter

A’s Reliever Sean Doolittle’s Twitter Bio says this: I get to play baseball with my friends for a living and sometimes they even let me be pitcher for an inning!

It’s where no one ever gets to be hero and everyone is the goat eventually.

When you come in from the bullpen and fail, most likely you’ve cost your team the game. Even the greatest bullpen pitchers will fail from time to time. (Yes, even Mariano Rivera.)

They will be booed and heckled. Mercilessly. By the time they come into the game, your nastiest hecklers are already well into their cups … many, many beers to the wind. The more beer, the louder and stupider the heckle. It’s a fact.

When bullpen pitchers succeed, when they hold the lead, you won’t hear a word. The batters will be rewarded for scoring plenty of runs. The starting pitcher will be lauded for not letting a game get away. The bullpen? Hey, they were just doing their job.

Remember Jay? My new favorite thing to do is bounce ideas off of him. So, Jay, what do you have to say about relievers?

It is the nature of the role that relief pitchers make you nervous. The term “relief” implies you aren’t the real thing — you are on standby in case something happens – i.e., a relief valve. That is why relief pitchers got no respect at all until they invented euphemisms to class them up — thus, the “closer” – sounds important; “set-up guy” – sounds tricky; “long man” – actually sounds superfluous, but you get the idea.

There are a lot of things that can go wrong in a game. My Editor/Husband will moan like a cat with a hairball whenever a bad play unfolds. But, when the bullpen gets lit up, that’s when he gets really animated. (“Animated” is sort of like heckling but without all the beer.)

A position player can strike out once or twice in a game. But, as soon as he does this … all is forgiven.

A starting pitcher can have a tough first inning, but somewhere tonight in America a broadcaster will say, “He’s settled down from a shaky first.”

Bullpen pitchers don’t have the luxury of a shaky first.

So, the Orioles bullpen had a bad night. But, they’ve had plenty more good nights.

So, yay, for the bullpen.

And, relievers everywhere.

For Moe Drabowsky, the wacky prankster. For Mike Marshall, who in 1974 became the first reliever to win the Cy Young (and in true quirky reliever fashion actually became a big league pitcher simply because he wanted to study pitching arm injuries for his PhD.)

And, for every reliever who has had a bad game … or blown a save (or two or seven). Rest up, guys, because we’ll need you to be ready to try again for us tomorrow.

I was wrong. I’m sorry.

Posted on August 3, 2013 by Jackie, The Baseball Bloggess

Last month, I wrote about potato chips.

I was actually writing about baseball’s All-Star Game and fan voting. (Click here to review.)

But, really, all you cared about was the potato chips.

That’s ok. Blog posts are funny that way.

So, to recap: America voted for their favorite potato chip flavor. The choices were:

Cheesy Garlic Bread
Sriracha
Chicken & Waffles

When Cheesy Garlic Bread won, I complained that Americans had voted for bread as an appropriate potato chip flavor. As far as I was concerned, this ridiculous choice meant that Americans shouldn’t be allowed to vote for anything.

(You all should have voted the Orioles’ Nick Markakis into the All Star Game, too. You should be ashamed baseball voters.)

Here’s Nick’s Glove.

Here’s comes the baseball.

There goes the homerun. Sorry, Texas.

Watch it here.

But, here’s the thing. I learned about the contest after it was over. I never saw the flavors in my store. I never tried them. I merely decided, based on common sense, that bread was a horrible flavor choice.

Many of you commented on the post, and no one had seen or tasted any of the flavors.

Today, all three flavors magically appeared along a wall in my grocery store.

They weren’t there last month. They weren’t there last week. (My Husband/Editor would like to point out that last month and last week are the same thing. But, you get my point.)

I gasped. Maybe I yelped. I might have been a bit too loud. I don’t remember. I was overcome with emotion.

They were on sale too. So, on that alone, let’s go with yelp.

Finally, America, I could taste for myself.

But, before I do, let me say this.

I don’t ask for much from professional athletes. Show up on time. Don’t cheat. Do your best. And, be nice to the fans. If you’re a funny or witty interview, so much the better; I’ll let a few bad games slide. If you rescue shelter animals, help out in your community, and support local charities … hey, you had me at “rescue shelter animals.”

Oh, and don’t lie.

And, if and when you get caught lying or cheating, here’s what you do. It’s pretty easy.

Say “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

And, let the healing begin.

So, I write this post today for the potato chip fans of the world and for Alex Rodriguez, the beleaguered New York Yankee who awaits the decision of Major League Baseball – will he be suspended or banned for life from the game he loves because he cheated by taking performance enhancing drugs and lied about it?

I was planning to write a long (boring blah-blah-blah long) post about how I’m starting to feel sorry for the guy, because many sportswriters and bloggers and such seem to be bullying him a bit, piling on, and reveling in his misfortune. We seem awfully quick to end his career, while letting other cheaters slide with, perhaps, lesser suspensions and the glimmer of redemption.

Cheaters need to be suspended and baseball needs to clean up its game. But, let’s not be bullies.

But, then the potato chips came along.

Magnificent!

I’ll taste them. Discover that I was wrong, that Cheesy Garlic Bread is not only an acceptable flavor, but an absolutely mind-blowingly delicious one.

Americans were right after all!

And, I would admit it. I would say, “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Alex Rodriguez has said many times (most recently in this week’s Sports Illustrated) that he wants to be a role model.

So, here I would be, right here on this blog, standing as a proud and honest role model for A-Rod.

What if he sees this, is moved by my emotion and honesty? What if he finally says, “I was wrong. I’m sorry.” How cool would that be?

But, then, I tasted.

And, you know what?

Cheesy Garlic Bread potato chips?

Suck.

They kind of, sort of taste like garlic bread, in the same way that freeze dried ice cream, kind of, sort of, tastes like ice cream.

So I was right all along. Potato chips should not taste like bread.

Sriracha? Doesn’t really taste anything like Sriracha. More like a barbeque potato chip with a garlic kick and a sassy chili zing. But, not bad. So, I was right about that, too.

(You’re on your own with the Chicken & Waffles chips. They actually have real chicken in their flavoring. There’s not much real in a flavored potato chip, so I’m as surprised as you by this. I’m a vegetarian … so, chicken in my potato chips? No way.)

Unfortunately, America, I was right.

Which is incredibly vindicating. But, not so good for the point I wanted to make today.

But, while I was right about this, I have been wrong about other things.

I once said that Bobby Bonds was in the Hall of Fame. He’s not. I was wrong. I’m sorry.

I once told a telemarketer who called me at home that I was the housekeeper and couldn’t take their call. I was wrong. I’m sorry.

I once tried to slip the word ausperous past an online scrabble game. I was wrong. I’m sorry.

I made up that last example. I was wrong. I’m sorry.

See, it’s easy.

I hope that Alex Rodriguez figures that out.

Because, how can I forgive you, if you won’t apologize?

Go Squirrels.

Posted on July 23, 2013 by Jackie, The Baseball Bloggess

“I like to play happy. Baseball is a fun game, and I love it.” ~ Willie Mays

Willie Mays is my favorite SF Giant. Because … because, of course he is … I don’t have to explain that to you, do I?

Play happy.

I love that.

I saw the Richmond Flying Squirrels play on Sunday (they’re the Giants’ AA team).

And, that’s where I saw Nathaniel and his sign.

Baseball isn’t about cheaters and liars and those who dirty up a pure game with bad behavior and boorishness.

Baseball is about playing happy. And, Nathaniel. And, his sign. (And, possibly his brother too, over there on the right, who reminds you that sometimes you’re not that happy about a baseball game.)

The Richmond Squirrels and the Bowie Baysox, the Orioles’ AA team, played to a 5-5 stalemate Sunday, when the skies opened up in the 10th and the game was suspended. They’ll finish it another day.

Play Happy. Go Squirrels.

Baseball, Barn, Life … (and me)

Posted on July 20, 2013 by Jackie, The Baseball Bloggess

When I first started this blog one year ago (happy birthday, blog!) I thought that the slow, simple, and beautiful game of baseball reflected the same energy that I experience on my Yoga mat.

Simple on the outside, but intricate and complex and insanely sweet on the inside.

Deep, yeh?

But, now I’ve realized that the slow, simple, and beautiful game of baseball is also a lot like the barn that we are building …

… and building …. and building.

And, the second half of the baseball season …

And, the second half of the barn building …

begins now.

Our old barn served us well. It had been a good old barn for many decades before we turned up. The previous owners probably used it as an actual barn. We used it as extra storage for items that didn’t mind that it listed a bit to the north, the wood was worn thin, the walls were porous, and it rained as hard inside as out.

It’s hard to say goodbye to a good old barn. In the same way, it’s hard to say goodbye to baseball players as their better days, their greatest games, fade.

I still miss Cal Ripken.*

But, hope springs eternal.

And, just as spring training got underway, we started a new barn.

Now you see it …

Now you don’t …

And, as the baseball season has worn on, so has the barn building.

The barn’s been slowed by paperwork and rain delays.

It’s been slowed by crew members being traded to new teams, being put on the DL, or just plain disappearing.

But, it’s coming together.

And, as the second half of baseball begins, our barn project continues, too.

Still waiting for a roof.

And, some walls.

But we saved the old barn door and it will be put up inside somewhere.

A place of honor in our barn “Hall of Fame.”

Time moves forward for barns and baseball.

We’ll have a new barn.

And, Manny Machado. (You gotta watch this …)

And, the World Series will come. And, the Orioles will be there. And, the barn will be awesome.

I’m sure of it.

My amazing Barn Dude – the Player-Manager of the Barn Building – will tell you that the barn is well beyond halfway. It’s well into the playoffs. This is good for us since it means the barn will be a real barn before October. (Barn Dude’s not a baseball fan, but he remembers seeing the Red Sox at Fenway. What is it with all these Red Sox fans in my world?)

*And, Billy.

Free Baseball: “I Hate The All Star Game” Edition

Posted on July 13, 2013 by Jackie, The Baseball Bloggess

“I disliked the All Star Game before it meant something (like most of my life). Now that it ‘means’ something I both hate it and think it is useless.” ~ our friend Jay

Who hates a vacation? Our friend, Jay.

Baseball is a 162-game, six-month undertaking. (Eight months, if you count spring training and if you are good enough to make it to the post-season.)

Tucked into that stretch is a four-day break that includes the All Star Game. That little baseball vacation begins Monday.

Our friend Jay is a Red Sox fan. He hates the All Star Game because it temporarily stops the “real” baseball season. But, he does have lots of very good qualities, too.

I am pretty sure that I am a baseball fan because of him. I sat next to him at the very first major league game I attended. It was some 25 years ago.

I have been pestering him with baseball questions ever since.

He always responds. Patiently. Kindly. Wisely. (If you ask him how to throw a screwball, he will provide detailed instructions. If you ask about baseball broadcasters he will rate nearly every one. The Red Sox broadcasters are ranked quite highly, incidentally.)

Jay plays. Jay watches. Jay knows a lot about baseball.

Occasionally my questions stir him up.

Like when I asked about the All Star Game.

For me, I like the mini-vacation. I like watching the All Stars (especially when five of them are Orioles). It’s a long season; I don’t begrudge the players a tiny break at this mid-way point.

But, Jay thinks …

Well, here, he’ll tell you …

Baseball is an endurance contest — 162 games in six months. And then, in the middle of that we give players (making $16 million or even a paltry $1 million) four days off to go fishing and rest up? What’s that all about?
…

The greatest thing about baseball is that they play every day (and sometimes twice — in what other sport do they say ‘Let’s play two’?) But, no, the All Star Game says, “We pause from this important season to bring you this unimportant game.” (And, no, having it determine home-field advantage does not mean this is for real. If it was for real Clayton Kershaw would pitch seven innings.)

…

The touchstones for me for baseball are the “Morning Question” – how did the Sox do last night? – and the “Afternoon Question” – who is pitching tonight? I look for the box scores in the paper every day. How many games up (or behind) are we? … All winter I wait for baseball season to start so I can go through my daily baseball rituals — and then in the middle of July they stop it.
…

[Former Red Sox] Manny Ramirez’s grandmother used to “die” each year at All Star time so Manny could go home to grieve with the family. My attitude is like Manny’s Granny’s – “Who cares about the All Star Game? Nothing important is happening so I might as well die again this year.”

(Jay is exaggerating … but here’s the back story on Manny. And, here.)

…

The best thing about baseball is that there is a game every day, so let’s play. (That is why I hate days off, rain outs, and All Star Games.)

These are just the highlights. Jaylights.

But, I’m feeling sort of bad that Jay will have to endure the next four days without baseball while the rest of us are watching the Home Run Derby (Monday) and the All Star Game (Tuesday).

So, here are some things that can pass the time until the season begins again on Friday:

1) Watch NY Giants Pitcher Carl Hubbard strike out Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, and Jimmy Foxx in order. It was 1934 at the Polo Grounds. It was the All Star Game. Watch it here.

Or, watch Babe Ruth hit the very first homerun in the very first All Star Game in 1933. Watch here.

2) Explore the arts. Mike Carmichael of Alexandria, Indiana has been painting a baseball – coat by coat – since 1977. The baseball now has more than 23,000 layers of paint and weighs more than 4,000 pounds. If you visit, he’ll let you paint a layer on the ball. See it here.

Photo courtesy of Mike Carmichael

Perhaps the baseball in your garage is artwork in the making.

3) Learn a second language. Orioles outfielder Nate McLouth speaks fluent Spanish, allowing him to chat easily with his Latin American teammates and give interviews to the Spanish-speaking press. While most foreign-born players must learn some English to get by in the game, very few American players take the time to learn their teammates’ languages. Nate es maravilloso. Click aquí.

4) If you can’t watch baseball, play it. In Nicaragua, baseball is El Deporte Rey, the king of sports. NPR’s Only A Game recently had a story about a camp in Nicaragua that allows boys and girls a chance to slip away from the hard realities of poverty for a week of baseball. “[T]his chance to play on a real field coached by a real professional will make a beautiful memory. And even in wealthy countries, beautiful memories aren’t easy to come by.” Listen here.

Jay is my baseball guru (except for that Red Sox thing). He has a blog too. Although he only updates it when he goes to baseball camp each winter. He should keep it up year-round. Visit it here and pester him to write more.

Jay’s Blog.

Enjoy the All Star Game (or not). “Real” baseball resumes on Friday.

Continue reading →

4th of July Baseball!

Posted on July 4, 2013 by Jackie, The Baseball Bloggess

“[I]t is good to see health-promoting exercises taking the place of insipid enervating amusements.” ~ The Washington Star reporting on a baseball game in Washington, DC in 1860

Oh, Washington Star, you have no idea.

No idea what “insipid enervating amusements” your great-great-great-great grandchildren will come up with. No idea.

We name our children North West, for heaven’s sake. You really have no idea.

But, you’ll be pleased to know that baseball is pretty much the same.

(Sure, some teams play indoors on fake grass, some under glowing swaths of electric lights, and some won’t even let their pitchers come to bat anymore. Players come from all over the world. And, it’s no longer a whites-only game. So, ok, times have changed a bit.)

While baseball’s beginnings go back much further, it was the Civil War that helped turn baseball from a regional, neighborhood pastime – complete with myriad, often vague, sets of rules – and into a pretty standardized game.

baseball with union prisioners 1863 salisbury nc

Baseball game between Union prisoners at Salisbury, N.C., 1863. Lithograph of a drawing by Maj. Otto Boetticher. Courtesy of the National Archives

That game, base ball, helped pass time during wartime and was taken home across the nation into peacetime.

President Andrew Johnson

It’s said that President Andrew Johnson was the first sitting President to watch baseball games during the 1860s.

“Johnson indulged few recreational activities [but] he came to appreciate baseball, which was well on its way to becoming America’s past time. On occasion, the President took time to watch pickup games organized on the South Grounds of the White House,” according to Jeffrey K. Smith in The Loyalist: The Life & Times of Andrew Johnson.

(Thank you to my friend Gloria, a diehard Cubs fan, who actually read that book and brought the baseball quote to my attention. And, thank you to my Editor/Husband who said it was also important to mention that then-Vice President Johnson was drunk at Lincoln’s second inauguration.)

By the 1920s baseball’s place in our nation was clear. It was, President Calvin Coolidge declared, “our nation’s game.”

All 30 major league teams are scheduled to play today … all decked out in the stars and stripes.

Each team will wear special “Independence Day” caps.

Like the Baltimore Orioles.

And, the New York Yankees. (I am sharing the Yankees cap with you so I can take this opportunity to report that the Orioles swept the Yankees last weekend. Go O’s!) And, the Cleveland Indians. Wait. That can’t be right, can it?

Yes, Major League Baseball apparently thought it would be appropriate – possibly even cute – to paint Chief Wahoo in the stars and stripes. I’m not even comfortable writing this.

But, hey, MLB, we all make mistakes. And, so, here’s the new Cleveland cap you’ll see today.

There. That’s better.

And, if you’re a Toronto Blue Jay? Fear not, no stars and stripes for you today. Your maple leaf is quite fetching!

So, tip your cap today to the sport that is our “nation’s game.” Chances are, you’ll be tipping a baseball cap (but hopefully not that Chief Wahoo one).

And, have a happy Fourth of July!

The Baseball Bloggess

Loves the 4-6-3 and the Serial Comma.

Category Archives: Baltimore Orioles

My Elbow. Manny Machado’s Knee.

This Isn’t Baseball. This Is September.

Sea Monkeys, Math, & Football

Free Baseball: “How Did Everything Go So Bad, So Fast?” Edition

In Praise Of The Bullpen

I was wrong. I’m sorry.

Go Squirrels.

Baseball, Barn, Life … (and me)

Free Baseball: “I Hate The All Star Game” Edition

4th of July Baseball!

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: