Wild Thing, or, Poem For Matt Anderson, Attempting a Comeback
They said he looked like Jesus, his beard full. They said he looked like Jesus when he walked in the gym, six years out of the major leagues and what, exactly, does that mean, like Jesus? Did they mean he was starved, like Jesus in the desert, forty days and whatnot and desperate to make … Continue reading
On geeking out
I’ve always been the sort of baseball fan who appreciates the tactile aspects of the game—the way the grass smells when winter breaks and spring training reports hit the local news, the endless patterns pine tar makes on a batter’s helmet, the unmistakable sound of a home run. But the more scientific parts of the … Continue reading
Cardinal Dreams
Cardinal Dreams 1. Firebird, Thunderbird, Sunbird they all seemed the same to me their headlights like eyes unmoving, blank. 2. The Phoenix Center in downtown Pontiac, somewhere near the Fiero plant and Fischer Body where Johnny Cash worked three weeks alongside Abuelito, building the 1951 models. 3. Johnny Cash joining the Air Force, Abuelito’s old … Continue reading
For what it’s Werth
Detroit Tigers general manager Dave Dombrowski said today that the Tigers were never in the hunt for Jayson Werth, formerly of the Philadelphia Phillies and one of the coveted free agents up for grabs this offseason. Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ve ever doubted the wisdom of Dombo (not to be confused with the elephant, Dumbo) … Continue reading
Bless You, Sparky
On a Monday night in third grade in the Catechism classes of St. Rita’s church in Holly, Michigan, Ronnie Haslem — the first boy who’d ever kissed me — opened his chubby fist and I gasped. It was a piece of notebook paper. It was a little damp — Ronnie had ferreted it away in … Continue reading
Suggested Halloween costumes for my party Saturday, baseball playoffs edition
1. A-Rod Wear: street clothes, South Beach-chic Have: a blonde with you; suggestions: Cameron Diaz, Kate Hudson, Madonna Accessories: pile of damp Monopoly $1000 bills. Tell everyone you’re crying into your money. 2. Ryan Howard Wear: Phillies uniform Have: stunned, vacant look Accessories: a whole bunch of Ks, and a bat that stays right on … Continue reading
Five is not the same as seven
Remember last week when I listed my playoff predictions?
No? Admittedly, the column was pretty long, and the predictions were slapped onto its end, well after your attention had waned. (It’s probably happening now, at the end of this sentence. All these parenthetical statements wear you down, my high school English teacher said.)
Well, obviously, no one read that far/was in full possession of their wits when they got that far, because no one noticed my hilarious mistake (part Freudian wishful thinking, part Courvoisier.)
Let’s take another look:
Happy trails
Watching the wonderful new installment of Ken Burn’s Baseball (the original, I sheepishly admit, I have yet to watch), The Tenth Inning, a player mentioned something similar: the chemistry comes when you’ve been winning together, when you are all bought into the plan, when the games get tough and you all— each of you—grind out each at-bat, each pitch, to get the right ball to hit and the hit that drives in the run that wins the game.
That kind of focus and workmanship has been missing from the Tigers since, well, 2006. And it’s the kind of thing you don’t get by building, or retaining, guys for amorphous reasons, like “He’s a veteran,” “He’s a leader,” or “The sound of the ball off his bat is different, like all the greatest hitters the game has ever known.”
So the Tigers have already announced who is not coming back—at least, not at this pay scale.
What happens in winter
It’s the seasonal equivalent of Sunday dread, that moment as the last of the weekend turns into the first of the work week (or, years ago, fresh seven days of school) when you begin to feel your entire life weigh heavily upon you. Somewhere recently I read that Sunday dread is the bit of evening where you are nearly smothered by the choices you’ve made, and the doubts you have about them – should I have gone to grad school when I was young? Is it too late to become President? Why didn’t I try harder in fifth grade? Will we ever be the people living in the same neighborhood as Tom Izzo?
It’s when September is just about out of days and the Tigers, God bless them, are officially, mathematically, scientific-method tested and retested and confirmed, out of the playoff picture. Again.
In which Derek Jeter should wipe that self-satisfied grin off his face
Baseball is built on rules. Unlike football, soccer, basketball, or hockey, baseball is not a game of possession. It is a game of elaborate conventions designed to ensure that both team have equal opportunity — both defenses must record 27 outs. Both offenses must field the same number of players. And so on.
But it’s also a game full of cheaters, men who would try to steal an out away from the opposing team by faking being hit by a pitch – it’s the exact opposite of “giving outs away.”
This tendency has a long history within the game, as Bill James reminds us in a fabulous article in Slate.
