Tag Archives: MLB

Wondering What 162-0 Might Feel Like

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From MLB

Yes, it was a shocker. Even for those of us who live and die with every Detroit Tigers pitch, swing and off-field transaction.

Yesterday, in a deal that involved not only general manager David Dombrowski but also owner Mike Illitch, the Tigers announced that they had signed free agent Milwaukee Brewers first baseman Prince Fielder to a nine-year $214 million contract.

Major League Baseball called it the fourth richest contract of all time.

With the signing, the Tigers can now do various things with their batting order and fielding alignment. They can use Fielder and Miguel Cabrera as co-first-basemen.co-designated hitters. Fielder plays 81 games and is the DH for 81 games and vice-versa.

Or they can play Fielder at first, move Cabrera back to third (his original position) and go and find another DH such as Vladimir Guererro or Johnny Damon, to replace the injured Victor Martinez. Of course, as Harold Reynolds suggested on MLB Network last night, there is no reason Cabrera couldn’t play leftfield as he did in his last season with the Marlins.

Regardless, this makes the middle of the Tigers batting order massive. After all, Fielder once hit a home run to the upper deck at old Tiger Stadium — when he was a 12-year-old goofing around with his dad, Cecil.

I guess we’ll go out and have a Little Caesar’s Pizza to celebrate. And help Illitch pay the bills.

Wow, I always wondered what 162-0 might feel like.

Just kidding. Jeesh. 160-2.

Musings After a Week in the Trenches

It’s been a long week. For one thing we had to keep listening to the NHL’s rationale for keeping the Coyotes in Phoenix, Eric Belanger’s brain-dead comments about Winnipeg (until now, I didn’t think hockey players were that stupid) and the American media’s desperate screams about Barry Bonds.

On top of that I had to call three hockey games (none of which was in Winnipeg), finish a magazine, complete the sports section of a newspaper, do the sports every morning on two radio stations, start a new book (working title, Quiet Hero: The Ken Ploen Story) and try to get rid of this pleurisy/pneumonia/Black Plague thing I have going on. Not whining. Just tired.

In the meantime, there was no shortage of bat-shit crazy going on out there and that will make today’s posting a little easier.

1) Love the U.S. media trying to make Barry Bonds’ ex-lover Kimberly Bell some sort of saint. She was his mistress through two marriages. I can think of a word other than mistress, but I wouldn’t use it in mixed company.

I often listen to ESPN radio on my XM service and they had that guy Mark Fainaru-Wada on, talking about the salient points made by Bell during her testimony in the Bonds case. In case you’ve forgotten, Fainaru-Wada wrote a book about Bonds, The Game of Shadows, using more than 200 anonymous sources (believe it at your peril). Bell was one of the few people he actually quoted on the record. When your entire career clings to the veracity of the testimony of the former mistress of a big league baseball player, you’d better go on the radio and tell people she has an immense intellect and no bitterness ’cause anyone with a brain bigger than a walnut isn’t going to believe it.

As Fainaru-Wada tried to tell people, “ex-girlfriends never lie,” all I could do not to puke all over the steering wheel, was sing Winnipeg Most’s new song as loudly as possible. The American media wants Bonds to be convicted so badly, it no longer has any credibility whatsoever. In fact, anything a sportswriter tries to tell you about Barry Bonds is probably a lie.

2) My wonderful wife is a Cleveland girl, born and raised. As a result, her disposition is often dictated by the success of her beloved Browns and Indians. And that’s not a bad thing. The more her teams lose, the funnier she gets.

So on Friday, as the Indians were losing 14-0 to the White Sox after four innings in their 2011 season opener (they eventually lost 15-10), Sally decided to go to Facebook to vent her frustration.

“I wonder if there is a ‘Cleveland Indians Suck’ page,” she asked.

Moments later I hear, “Gee, that’s harsh.”

Sally found the “Cleveland Indians Suck Big Black Monkey —–,” page.

“No wonder I don’t like Facebook,” she said, and went back to watching her game.

3) Right now, I’m watching the Tigers-Yankees game on FOX. Commentator Ken Rosenthal is an idiot. Miguel Cabrera does not owe anyone a second or third apology for his February DUI —  in English or any other language. One apology is plenty. Rosenthal is far too self-centered, self-absorbed and self-important.

By the way, why doesn’t Joe Buck just wear a Yankees jersey when he calls a game? Gawd, his pro-Yankee game calls are insufferable. And Tim McCarver? He’s now blind as well as terrible.

Thank gawd for the mute button.

4) Here’s what’s wrong with baseball and with every sport that doesn’t have a salary cap. Alex Rodriguez will make $32 million playing for the Yankees this season. The Kansas City Royals’ entire payroll, including players on the DL, is $36.1 million.

The Yankees payroll is $2o1.7 million. They should win EVERY game.

Meanwhile, when Baltimore manager Buck Showalter went off on the Boston Red Sox, the American media all jumped to the defence of their beloved poster-child- for-all-things-holy, Red Sox GM Theo Epstein. Trouble was, Showalter’s comments might have been impolite, but they were also pretty close to true.

“I’d like to see how smart Theo Epstein is with the Tampa Bay payroll,” Showalter told Men’s Journal. “You got Carl Crawford ’cause you paid more than anyone else, and that’s what makes you smarter? That’s why I like whipping their butt. It’s great, knowing those guys with the $205 million payroll are saying, ‘How the hell are they beating us?’ ”

Actually Boston’s payroll is about $162 million, but really, what’s the difference?

Oh yeah, A-Rod.

5) This story was e-mailed to us from a reader of the Detroit News:

Detroit Tigers manager Jim Leyland is a crusty old soul who has little use for the media on a good day. But let’s just say he’s really pissed now.

Player X is an ESPN the Magazine blog written, allegedly, by unnamed players from the various sports. In his inaugural entry, the baseball Player X takes a few unflattering shots at Detroit Tigers first baseman Miguel Cabrera:

“In any group, there’s always the crazy uncle who just can’t seem to figure it out. Cabrera, who’s been charged with DUI, is that uncle. I guarantee any one of his teammates would have picked him up if he’d called. Ditto his GM. …

“But, really, why isn’t Cabrera paying a guy $100 a night to drive him around? Plenty of guys do that. That he didn’t is a slap in his teammates’ faces. Even if it costs $36,000 a year, we have watches worth more than that.”

Even though the remarks make good sense, the comments set Leyland off and I agree with him. Frankly, if you can’t put your name on it, if you won’t take ownership of what you say, you are a gutless swine.

“To me that’s a gutless (jerk) that doesn’t put his name to it,” Leyland said. “If somebody would have said, ‘Hey, this is Jim Leyland and this is what I say, he should do this or this, then that’s fine.

“But when you (another expletive) hide behind somebody else’s expense, that’s chicken (expletive) to me. But you guys know your business more than me. Maybe that’s ethical, I don’t really know. But I’d be (pissed off) if I was Cabrera.”

And that’s why I really, really doubt a player actually wrote it. My sense says ESPN wrote it and declared that a player wrote it. I follow a lot of players on Twitter and if a player wants to say something, he will, and he’ll put his name on it and he won’t care what people think.

I believe Player X is an anonymous blog made up by ESPN The Magazine so that spineless reporters can hide behind somebody else.

Just Plain Bad

Here’s today’s question: Have we watched the point in professional sport — outside of golf, of course — where we’re going to make up the rules as we go along?

The NFL and NBA have been making up the rules for a long time. Hockey has no rules, or to be more fair, despite a number of changes and league directives, the rules are still different in the third period than they are in the first. Major League Baseball has reached the level of pure, unadulterated joke (Why bother having a strike zone? Play call your own. Don’t waste the money on a homeplate umpire). Officiating in the World Cup was comical.

And there is the Canadian Football League.

Just watched the PVR of the Winnipeg Blue Bombers 28-7 loss to the Hamilton Tiger-Cats. Watched the live version at Assiniboia Downs on Friday night and have just re-watched that debacle once again.

There is NO justification for calling the Kevin Glenn fumble in the third quarter a “non-fumble.” It was a fumble. The textbook definition of a fumble. If you look up the word fumble in the CFL rulebook, you are asked to go to www.tsn.ca to watch the replay of that fumble. And yet, even with video replay, there was some sort of excuse made up to make it a non-fumble.

It happened, of course, at an extremely important point in the game and may have changed the outcome (on the next play, Glenn threw a touchdown pass to make the score 21-0). The CFL should be ashamed.

The Bombers lost and fell to 1-2 on the season, tied with Hamilton for last in the East. It’s really not that big a deal. After all, this 18-game season is only three games old and the Bombers get the lousy Eskimos in front of the beer cup snake at Canad Inns Stadium next week.

But it just makes the league look bad and nobody needs that.

Bang, bang, bang: Three more little thoughts banging around in my cranium.

Ran 10-K this morning. Spent the 65 minutes listening to Kings of Leon, Airborne Toxic Event, AC/DC and Coldplay on the iPod while thinking about the insanity of the sports world….  

 

1) Great news yesterday for my good friends who are die-hard fans of the Minnesota Vikings. There is no longer any fear that Brett Favre will be at the helm of the Vikings next season. Tarvaris Jackson just might end up being the guy. That is good news. Honest.

 

Thursday it became official. 39-year-old Brett Favre told the New York Jets that he was retiring after 18 seasons, ending a record-setting career in which he became one of the NFL’s all-time greatest players.

Favre made his decision about a month and a half after his one and only year with what Billy Clyde Puckett called, “the dog-ass Jets.” He should have played in Minnesota in 2008, but stuff happens. 

 

Of course, who relly knows about Favre, other than Favre. So, check back later in case he changes his mind – again.

 

2) Philadelphia Phantoms head coach John Paddock, the one-time coach and GM of the Winnipeg Jets, has little good to say about Ottawa Senators GM Bryan Murray. And the fact is, everything ol’ “Too Tall” says is right. 

 

On Thursday, Paddock told the Camden Courier-Post: “We were 14 games over .500 when I was fired. They’re seven under now. Somebody needs to take responsibility for that.” 

Earlier this month, Murray fired his personal choice for head coach in 2008-09, Craig Hartsburg, just 48 games into the season after the Senators bungled off to a record of 17-24-7. 

Paddock, who obviously doesn’t think much of Murray, believes just as former GM John Muckler believes: That the Sens GM has absolutely no clue and should be sent packing.

3) Hank Aaron has told the Atlanta Journal-Constitution that he believes Barry Bonds should keep major league baseball’s home run record.

 

“I just don’t see how you really can do a thing like that and just say somebody isn’t the record holder anymore, and let’s go back to the way that it was,” Aaron told the paper of record in Atlanta.

He’s right, too.

Aaron, a class act who hit 755 home runs in his career to break the previous mark of 714 by Babe Ruth, is smart enough to know that even if Bonds took ‘roids, he was far from the only one (by the way, whatever happened to the list of 104 that included Alex Rodriguez? Why was Rodriguez the only player blistered by the mainstream media?). Bonds, of course, surpassed Aaron in 2007 and apparently has ended his career with 762 bombs.

Bonds has pleaded not guilty to charges that, in 2003, he lied to a grand jury when he said he never “knowingly” used steroids (the media likes to say “performance-enhancing drugs,” but the question Bonds was asked reads: “Did you ever take steroids?” After all, in the right circumstance, an aspirin is a performance-enhancing drug). 

However, even if Bonds is acquitted or this mainstream media witch-hunt never gets to trial, he’s already been convicted in the court of public opinion. The two frauds who wrote “Game of Shadows,” the book about Bonds and drugs that included more than 200 unnamed sources (which means they made it all up), along with the rest of the MSM (many of its mob, carving Bonds in print even though they’ve never met the man), have made it impossible for Bonds to ever be acquitted by the public. He’s toast. 

Of course, the worlds dumbest man, baseball commissioner Bud Selig, had recently remarked — out loud, no less — that he, “was considering recognizing Aaron’s total of 755 as the major-league record.”

Sadly, if Selig was any more ignorant, they’d have to put him a home. 

I don’t like ‘em. I’m sorry, but I just don’t like ‘em.

I have to admit, I don’t like sports officials at the best of times. I believe that there is no one anywhere who can referee anything properly at anytime.

My battles with basketball referees, subjective sport judges (every subjective sport judge on the planet, doesn’t matter if it’s figure skating or gymnastics, is crooked) and hockey officials have become legendary and, for the most part, I’m not proud of many of them.

 

However, I have no remorse. Everytime I yelled at an official, he deserved it. Every technical foul I took, I rejoiced in it.

 

Among my favourite shots directed at umpires have come from baseball fans. Here’s one from a well-known New York heckler named Bill Ferraro. This was a man who hated umpires almost as much as I do: “Hey, Blue! How about using some Windex on that glass eye!”

 

And another: “Hey Blue! I’ve had better calls from my ex-wife!”

 

And one of the greatest of them all: “Hey Ump!!! Damn good thing you don’t have three choices!”

 

Ferraro’s heckling brilliance was first chronicled by the New York Daily News. The Daily News loved this one: “Hey Blue! Don’t ever think about donating your eyes to science. They don’t want ‘em!!!”

 

Then there was this classic: “Can I pet your seeing eye dog after the game!”

 

And this one: “Come on Blue!!! Pull the good eye out of your pocket!”

 

Oh yeah, and this one: “Lenscrafters called…they’ll be ready in 30 minutes!”

 

Now, that’s harsh. But true.

 

This past weekend, I sat in my big-ass easy chair and spent almost 20 hours screaming at the TV.

 

First of all, we got dreadful homeplate umpiring in the ALCS. I know EVERYBODY loves the Boston Red Sox, but you can only squeeze the strike zone so far until somebody notices. I noticed. I threw things. I really didn’t care all that much if Tampa won the ALCS, but the freakin’ homeplate umpires made me cheer out loud for the Rays. Good on ‘em, Tampa got screwed and still prevailed.

 

Not so for the Minnesota Vikings in Chicago on Sunday. A second-half pass interference call in the end zone that resulted in first-and-goal at the one instead of loss-of-ball-on-downs, fried my shorts. By no definition — and I am reading the NFL rulebook as I write — was that pass interference. Two players fell down. Period. It cost the Vikings the football game.

 

That call was so bad, in fact, it appeared as if the fix was in. If crooked NBA ref Tim Donaghy went to jail, that whole NFL officiating crew in Chicago yesterday should have been locked up. If was as if they all had the Bears on their Vegas parlay ticket. 

 

Gawd, I can still smell that gas bomb.

 

Officiating in every sport is generally awful. Frankly, it should all be done in the booth, with video replay.