Notes from the Shadows of Cooperstown
Observations From Outside the Lines |
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NOTES FROM THE SHADOWS OF COOPERSTOWN
Observations from Outside the Lines
By Two Finger Carney (carneya6@borg.com)
#237 JUNE 27, 2001
ON THE ROAD AGAIN
The pace is picking up -- in MLB, where the races are shaping up nicely for the stretch -- and here in the Shadows of Cooperstown: a four-issue month. First in a long time. I hope it will be typical of the pace thru October -- we'll see. We are also glued to the pace of Barry Bonds, who threatens to send us all scurrying for back issues of our baseball magazines, back to 1998 and 1999 and all those articles convincing us how unique Mark McGwire's 70 was, how long that record would stand.
Road trips are not always happy -- check out the article that follows this intro, "Three In a Row." Say "road trip" to a former Cleveland Spider player (or fan) and you will have a big problem on your hands -- call 911!
This issue comes together between road trips for me -- I've returned from a long weekend in Pittsburgh (my first impressions of PNC Park follow, of course), and am on deck for a swing north to the Adirondacks. Every so often I think about getting a laptop to keep me company on my travels, but I'm used to literally making notes, and then writing when I'm back home. To be honest, that extra stage of editing almost always pays off. And there is a distinct pleasure that goes with being free from at least some of the technology that's around today.
This issue also begins my annual "Journal of a Baseball Junkie" -- one of several titles I've used for my tales of the local Utica Blue Sox and their seasons. They Sox are off to a good start, but are currently -- on a road trip. (Which gives me time to catch up here.)
I am asked from time to time -- more often in NOTES' first seasons than in recent years -- how I find time to do NOTES. I have no set answer. I do know this, that writers write, they don't whine about lack of time, they find the time. I find my best time is early evening. The pace where I work has been quickening this year, but fortunately, I get most of it done at the office. Going to work is a road trip, I'm a visitor there. When I leave, I quickly don the home uniform, shorts and T-shirt. I watch some TV, mostly after 10 PM, and enjoy rented videos, but my wife Barbara helps me limit both -- she loves to read, and is a constant reminder that I am way behind on my own reading. I probably spend a bit too much time playing Free Cell, but it's a great escape. (Yes, I tally my streaks and keep W-L records.) I try to keep up with my correspondence. It all keeps me going.
THREE IN A ROW
In NOTES #235, dated June 10, I commented on the dismal (to date) season that Pirate fans are experiencing in 2001 -- PNC park aside. I ended by asking "Is three in a row asking too much?" Exactly a week later, the Pirates swept three from the Indians.
Meanwhile, I got curious to see if any other teams managed to go thru a summer without any three-game winning streaks. Of course the 1962 Mets came to mind, and sure enough, their longest run of the season was three. Their longest losing streak, 17.
Going back to the turn of the century (in Macmillan's Encyclopedia), I learned that the Pirates of 1902 never lost more than two straight. The Philadelphia A's of 1916 never won more than two straight (and once lost twenty in a row.) The A's did it again in 1919, a season in which they must have dreaded road trips -- 15-55 away from home. That was not a record: the Senators in 1903 went 14-54 on the road, then 15-61 in 1904. The Senators had their first winning road record in 1912.
Leaving Macmillan for my Sporting News record book, I found that the worst road show ever was that of the Cleveland Spiders, who went 11-102, in 1899. At home (which was not often) they won nine and lost thirty-two. Consoling numbers, even for fans of the early Mets. (The '63 Mets lost the most road games since 1900, but only 64 (of 81.) But ouch! In 1968, the White Sox lost 44 games by one run.
Those one-run losses sting, but how about doubleheader losses? In 1950, the Cubs were swept 19 times (out of 23.) This was before Ernie Banks' day ... had Ernie broken in sooner, and gotten into the habit of cheering "Let's play two!", his teammates might have had some choice replies.
Here's another consoling stat. In 1945, the Cardinals beat the Cubs 16 times in their 22 meetings. But the Cubs finished that summer in first place, three ahead of St Louis. Think the Cards had any doubts about who should have played that October? There have been lots of great teams that never crossed the finish line first, of course. In 1885, the NL New Yorkers went 85-27 (.759) and wound up second. The Cubs were 104-49 in 1909 but could not get ahead of Honus Wagner's Bucs. The modern AL record (thru 1996) is held by the Yankees -- 103-51 in 1954, the Year of the Indians (111-43.) But for that upset, the Yanks would have had ten pennants in a row.
I happen to recall both modern records for futility being set: the Phils of 1961 lost 23 straight games (July 29 thru August 20); the Orioles of 1988 started that season with 21 losses. I say futility -- but think how wonderful those streak-busting wins must have felt! Worth the agony? Who can say? "Five hundred ball" is boring, dull, frustrating, tortuous. Ah, but the utter bliss of basking in a W that follows a long run of L's!
PLAY IT AGAIN, SOX
The home team here in the shadows of Cooperstown is the Utica Blue Sox. On June 19, the Sox opened their twenty-fifth year as a member of the short-season New York-Penn league. (The NY-P outgrew their two-state boundaries long ago, but the name sticks -- tradition. Like Blue Sox.)
The population in the Mohawk Valley, from where the Sox should draw (Little Falls having lost its franchise, despite its terrific ballpark), has steadily declined over that quarter of a century. When I was a professional vampire with the Big Red Machine (a.k.a. Red Cross) back in the seventies and eighties, I was more tuned in to demographics. Increasing blood donations year after year while sponsoring schools and companies closed made that a tougher assignment. United Way donations and participation in our summer jewel, the Boilermaker Road Race, are two other examples of battling the trend -- and winning.
All this convinces me that the Blue Sox could be drawing more and more fans every year, and it would not take a reincarnation of Bill Veeck to pull it off. The biggest reason that the Sox' attendance has sunk over the last five or ten years is the inability of its management to change its product. When fans of teams owned by Bill Veeck went to a game, they never knew what was going to happen -- something always did, and they did not want to miss it. They risked going home with livestock, but what the heck. They were sure of being entertained.
This time around, for the first time since 1994, the Sox will broadcast every game on several local radio stations. That should help.
Opening Day, for the third straight season, started with a day game. The first time this was tried -- thousands of kids were bussed in from area grade schools and baptized, willingly or not, into a Knothole Gang -- was a small disaster. The kids started leaving well before the end of the game -- had to get back to their schools to get home on time -- and the game ended with just a handful of us left to cheer on the Sox. The kids were exposed to baseball, but not a full game. Oh, well.
This year, O-Day's game started at 11 AM. I could be wrong, but there did not seem to be as many kids as in past years. They did get to cheer the last outs, though -- the game was over in a brisk two hours, ten minutes. I moved strategically toward the exits in the ninth inning (the Sox had a safe 6-1 lead), but it turned out there was no rush to the parking lot. The kids were still sitting in the metal bleachers (baking away, it was a hot, humid, cloudless day) as I drove away. This time, the last out came too early for the busses. Oh, well.
I sat in the shade of the grandstand, even though I came well-oiled with sunscreen -- mainly to avoid the kids. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing kids at the ballpark. But not busloads of them -- too much like a school cafeteria scene. They made for long lines at the concession stands (a problem, especially if you are keeping score; might cost you a blank inning or more.) One fan I chatted with referred to the event as "Brat Day" -- but he was in box seats where the critters invaded from time to time. Still, the label seemed to fit. Let me rephrase: I like kids at ballparks with their families or friends, not in student mode.
There were no giveaways or contests of any sort. The number in my scorecard was wasted. (I might have won a prize as stunning as a pack of cards or a U-Sox pennant, another day. The odds were good, too, the kids didn't buy programs.) I saw some signs being held up in the grandstand, behind home, a la Shea, but I don't think this will be a trend; I think it was for the TV cameras. I also saw (right in front of my row) that annoying invasive device plaguing society these days, the cell phone. I really don't want to listen to others chat away, not at the ballpark, not while standing in a hall waiting for an elevator. I think they put phones inside booths for a good reason. I would not mind at all if building (and ballparks) added booths, where people could take their cell phones. Please. (Needless to say, I am most bothered when I see them used by drivers, near my car.)
It was a good game. The Mahoning Valley Scrappers (an Indian farm that is typically well-stocked with young talent) were the opponents. They scrapped for just three hits, all doubles, two coming back-to-back in the first to give them a 1-0 lead. The Sox starter set down the next thirteen in order, before yielding to The Pitch Count. His two successors were almost as tough, giving up a double and a walk; the latter was erased on a DP, and the Sox finished the game three over par -- faced 30 batters.
Five singles and a walk in the second gave the Sox a 2-1 lead. The Sox' catcher, Winton Zapay, assigned to the ninth spot (it's his fifth season in pro ball), singled in the first run but was gunned down by a mile trying to stretch the hit to a double. He later added two more singles, another RBI and a walk. A few more games like this (no, a lot more) and he'll find himself right where he wants to be -- outta here, on his way up.
The Sox iced the game when they greeted the third MV hurler with walk-single-bomb in the 8th. Charlie Frazier's shot sailed over the Domino's Pizza sign, about 380 feet away in center. It was almost as welcome as the cool breeze that hung around.
The only error in the field was made by the MV LF; their catcher interfered twice, however, and one of those miscues was costly. On the other hand, the kids on the diamond made some nifty plays. Kids: two of the Sox are younger than my 19-year-old son. One was Denny Bautista, the starting pitcher: a young ace! The other is a kid who just graduated from high school in Texas -- he took three hits home today. Once upon a time, I was younger than the guys in uniforms. Now my kids are older!?
GETTING TO KNOW YOU
"This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." Yes, it's the closing line in Casablanca, but it is also the opening line (stated or not, in those words or not) for Pirate fans as they meet their new ballpark in The 'Burgh.
PNC Park has a charm about it that is felt long before fans get to their seats. It brims with Pirate history -- banners with the names of favorite players and managers drape its walls, and the statues of Honus Wagner (which sat outside Forbes Field) and Roberto Clemente, have been joined by a stunning likeness of the late Willie Stargell. So the park with "no name" (the best I could come up with was "PNC: Pirates Not Concluding" their time in Pittsburgh) is circled with familiarity.
On my first visit, I circled the park, too, almost twice (not quite by design), enjoying its proximity to flowing waters, if not to handy parking (maybe that will come.) I have walked around several parks before entering them -- the Fen, and Reading's cozy confines come to mind -- and it's not a bad way to get introduced. On June 23, PNC was sold out for a match with the Expos, even though the Bucs are already out of the pennant race. Over 31,000 have been coming to PNC this season, and this was not the first sellout, and I wondered what a more competitive team would be drawing, if these guys are filling the house.
And this was a rainy night, too. But the promise of fireworks -- after the game -- can offset a shaky forecast. I was in an uncovered section of the third deck, and the drizzle early on was never a bother. I was with family and friends (the tickets were obtained thru the Forbes Field SABR Chapter), and was rooting for a well-played, close game (a win would be nice, but...), and the Pirates came through. Over 38,000 of us, the largest PNC crowd so far, saw them rally for a 7-4 victory. I have been in really big Pirate crowds before, and it seemed that the home team rarely won those games. (Except in 1960, when they had a terrific record at home.)
Even if the Pirates had been shelled, I think most of the 38,000 would want to come back to PNC as soon as they could. OK, as soon as they could afford to return, then -- it's a pricey place, but that's the way this millennium goes. PNC is Pretty, Neat and Cozy. I cannot, will not, compare it to Forbes -- that is just unfair; Forbes was my first. PNC lacks the memories that Three Rivers held, but let's see what happens over time.
The fireworks after the game were spectacular, and they were not just sound and fury -- they were coordinated with a video on the scoreboard, with rockets taking off from the diamond, and from the skyscrapers across the river. The buildings, the river, the bridges, and PNC seemed to be talking to each other in a skyblast of images and noise, celebrating Pittsburgh's history and rooting for its future. Not a bad ending, for a first visit.
NOTES FROM A LEAGUE OF MY OWN
[This is the eighth and final installment of this series, which describes the 16 All-Time Franchise rosters I am using in a third simulated (APBA) season. Previous rosters and the issues in which they appeared: Yankees, Braves (223); Giants, Red Sox (225); Pirates, Indians (227); Dodgers, Orioles (229); Phils, White Sox (231); Cardinals, Senators (233); Cubs, Tigers (234); all issues are available in the NOTES Archive. Future reports on the leagues will confine themselves to game results.]
THE REDS
The Reds finished last in my first simulation only because somebody had to -- they were not a bad team. The next time around, thanks to the addition of Eric Davis and draftee Jeff Bagwell, the Reds finished in a tie for first, then lost the playoffs to the Phils. This time, they are in the hunt again, currently in second, chasing the Pirates.
Bagwell still holds down first base, with Ted Kluszewski an able backup and power on the bench. Joe Morgan owns second. Pete Rose can play there, too -- he can play anywhere -- and is a kind of super-sub, most often battling Edd Roush for an outfield spot.
Barry Larkin is now at short (bumping Dave Concepcion) and has been streaky -- more power, a bit less leather than Leo Cardenas. Tony Perez slumped mightily in his third spring, and turned over third base to a fellow drafted from the Negro Leagues, Judy Johnson. Judy can field and hit. Chris Sabo, a sparkplug last season, can, too, but not quite as well.
Johnny Bench will DH in the second games of doubleheaders, but otherwise is the steady catcher. Ernie Lombardi fills in.
The outfield is crowded with talent. Besides Roush and Rose and Eric Davis, the Reds have Frank Robinson (often F. Robbie is the DH), Vada Pinson, and draftee Marquis Grissom. Like most teams, the offense is potent, with a nice combo of table-setters and RBI men -- and a fine defense. Won't often beat themselves.
Right now the starting rotation includes Bob Purkey (he won 20 last season, I believe), Tom Seaver (picked up in last season's draft, he stuck), Ewell Blackwell, Dolfe Luque (this somewhat obscure Cuban starred in the first season), and Jose Rijo. Some more famous names are in the minors, only because I carry ten pitchers, and they got off to slow starts; I do not hesitate to send Hall of Famers down for "rehab."
The pen's pillar is (again) Clay Carroll. This time, he has lots of help from Paul Derringer, Mario Soto, Pedro Borbon, and the wonderfully-named Eppa "Jephtha" Rixey. Pedro is likely the next to leave. Might try the VanderMeer kid next month. (The other players drafted from the Negro Leagues did not fare well, and are in the minors. But it's only June; they'll be back.)
THE ATHLETICS
First, let me squelch the rumor that when I manage the A's, I dress up in suit and tie, and position my fielders with strategic waves of my rolled-up scorecard. The only similarity between me and Connie Mack is that neither of us can be fired.
The A's are a composite of three dynasties -- two of Mack's, and one of Charlie Finley's. This team led the AL almost wire-to-wire in the first simulation, then coughed up the flag to the Yankees. They were not quite as successful the next try, and in the third season, they are inexplicably dead last, out of it.
This is very puzzling, since (like every team) they are better than ever. Jimmie Foxx anchors first base and Al Simmons the outfield, and both are terrorists in the 3-4 slots, every bit as mighty as Ruth & Gehrig. They have the all-time best leadoff hitter in Rickey Henderson (when I had to decide if Rickey would play for the A's or Yankees, in the stretch run of season one, I felt like I was deciding the pennant. The A's got Rickey, but did not do better, and the Yanks caught and passed them. Go figure.)
The weak spot used to be short -- Bert Campaneris was a terrific glove man, but this league is tough on his type. So when they drafted Willie "the Devil" Wells from the Negro League (Willie was called, I think, the black Honus Wagner, but his card has lots more power than Honus'), I thought they'd be back on top. Hasn't happened.
Other solid players include Mickey Cochrane at catcher (he's spelled off by another Negro Leaguer, Jim Brown, and Franklin "Blimp" Hayes); and Indian Bob Johnson, Jose 40-40 Canseco, and Reggie Jackson in the OF/DH. I have been juggling the infield all season, looking for the right combination. Most often it is Max Bishop (2B), Jimmy Dykes (3B/2B) and Frank "Home Run" Baker (3B), with Frank White (2B) and Carney Lansford (3B) filling in. I am frustrated because only Simmons and Foxx (he's the HR leader, I think, going after a second straight crown) are consistent. Dice!
I currently use a four-man rotation with the A's: Lefty Grove, Rube Waddell, Eddie Plank, and Eddie Rommel. Some of the stars from the past have been hammered into the minors -- Catfish Hunter, Chief Bender and Vida Blue are three. Ken Holtzman and Colby Jack Coombs are hanging on in the pen. Two closers (with too few save opportunities this season) are Rollie Fingers and Dennis Eckersly. Dave Stewart and Bobby Shantz have been very good in long relief. They have seen lots of action this spring.
This is a good time to mention that Babe Ruth hit 73 HRs in my first simulation (I think Mantle was next, with 66.) I wrote at some length back then, exploring the phenomenon. When McGwire hit 70, I felt some relief; Barry Bonds, on a pace to smack 80, has me shaking my head. No dice stay that hot for that long!
BEHIND THE NICKNAMES
[This is a kind of tossed-in-extra page. When NOTES was mailed out, I got into the habit of never wasting postage on blank pages. Sometimes the "fillers" turned out better than the other stuff. I still print a couple "hard copies" of NOTES, one for that Cooperstown library (you could look it up), and right now I need an eighth page for this issue.
["Behind the Nicknames" started with NOTES #190, in May 1999. Since then, I've revisited this feature about ten times, with some variations. I see these attempts at humor as interludes between longer pieces in the books I plan to edit from NOTES.
[That project may begin sooner than the Fall, but I hope not later. Meanwhile, I am collecting suggestions on printers and how to go about self-publishing. Thanx to those who have already shared their experiences with me.]
Fred "Sure Shot" Dunlap was an early wizard at the keystone, who starred in the Union Association before the turn of the century. His specialty was using his slingshot to break spokes of opponents' carriages after tough losses.
Earl "Crossfire" Moore was a Cleveland flame-throwing sidearm pitcher who often found himself in the middle of clubhouse food fights. So often that they called him ....
Curt "Coonskin" Davis won 19 as a 30-year-old rookie in 1934, and 139 over the next twelve summers; he always gave credit to his lucky raccoon tail, often seen flying from his back pocket.
Smead "Smudge" Jolley was "good hit, no field," and had the nasty habit of drooling tobacco juice over the team scorebook.
Then there was Slow Joe Doyle, a .500 pitcher in the first decade of the 20th century. How slow was Joe? Well, he was so slow that he was still finishing his shower when his team arrived for the next game. He suited right up again, but by the time he made it to the bullpen, it was time to shower again.
Sleepy Bill Burns would have missed a few games like Doyle, but he quickly got into the habit of putting on his uniform over his pajamas.
It could have been Mordecai (Three Finger) "Miner" Brown who tried to get a game called on account of darkness, by wearing a spotlight on his cap when he took the mound for the last inning.
John "Candy Man" Candelaria once won twenty for the Pirates, despite having to put up with a steady stream of that Sammy Davis Junior song, aimed at him from his opponents' dugouts.
And finally, who can forget Larry "Possum" Burright, who distracted enemy fielders by hanging upside-down from his dugout roof while making loud, snoring sounds?