General Interest (15)
Welcome to the REAL New year fellow owners! Spring Training is underway! This is my favorite time of the year. This is my New Year’s Day… a time of renewal, a fresh start and a clear signal that winter is finally on the way out. Oh, there’s certainly plenty of time for more snow, ice, wind and frigid temps but the start of baseball tells me that green grass and warm sun can’t be far behind. It will soon be time for the lawn mower and barbecue grill to go on work release from their winter imprisonment in the shed. Who doesn’t look forward to that?
As a fan of the Philadelphia Phillies for almost 50 years, I’ve endured my fair share of bad baseball, inept teams and rosters that included such forgettable names as Al Raffo, Ricky Otero, Mike Mimbs and the ever popular Steve Jeltz. Yep, for Phillies fans spring training was a time of hope…hope for a miracle of epic proportion. This hope was inspired by other names such as Bunning, Allen, Schmidt, Carlton and Schilling, but it has been a long and arduous road. When the New York Metropolitans came into the National League in 1962, my mother (rest her soul) needled me by predicting that the Mets would win the World Series before the Phillies ever did. To my 10 year old mind this was, of course, incredibly preposterous and a mere two seasons later I was sure my Phillies were going to prove it. Well, let’s not go there. Then, in 1969, the Mets did indeed pull off the preposterous. The scars of ’64, still not completely healed even after five years, were callously and viciously re-opened. I have despised the Mets ever since. I don’t think I completely forgave mom until 1980 but, by then, she had become an avid Phillies fan and Mets hater.
In the sweet springs of my youth, baseball magazine covers featured images of players on other teams, Mantle, Koufax, Clemente and the like. Today, the red pinstripes share a well earned space on the magazine racks. Phillies spring training is different these days. It’s still a time of hope but no longer the threadbare hope for a miracle. It’s become, instead, hope that expectations will be met. The perspective is much different now than it was for past teams with no chance and no expectations. Phillies fans, unaccustomed to this new perspective, but intimately familiar with disappointment, are still getting used to the view from the top. Those first few trips to the top of the ferris wheel can be scary but it’s still a fun ride. So let’s play ball and hope the wheel stops with our car at the top!
November 26th was much anticipated this year. After a wonderful Thanksgiving with all the trimmings, and a perfect time in between to peak the collecting appetite, the St Leander's, (now Ryan O'Connel Hall), sports collector's show finally came, Saturday!!
The morning began with a fruitless wait at the auto repair shop. Apparently, they forgot to post a message informing us peons that they were off for the holiday weekend. No matter, it couldn't dampen my spirits...not when I'm taking a short trip down the 880 to my favorite Fall happening.
I always have to think about what I am after the night before I go to a card show. I go through phases, as you might expect. Friday night, I was taken with a '33 Goudey Charlie Gehringer, with it's beautiful purple back ground. The 1933 Goudeys can be so compelling. They have it all. There are the fabled players, like Gehrig and Ruth, (2 for Lou and 4 poses for Babe, $$$!). And the gritty NSB peak 'old timers' performers, HOF'ers Ott, Foxx, Hornsby and Terry, all put together with those beautiful artistic renderings...no photos on these cards. The set is 239 cards and is mostly all rookie cards! It books for $25,000 to 40,000 depending on condition of course. The Ruths can fetch up to $5,000! Well, since my ATM limit is $300, I can't expect any of those treasures, however, there are some collectors at the show who defintely have great stuff. I've been going for about 10 years, and so I've gotten to know a few.
Ron always has an amazing amount of worthwhile cards. He's usually down near the cafeteria in the gym where the show takes place. There are probably 50 or so tables and. I usually head to him first, but today, I had to stop off for Ben to check out some Giants pins. He got his first experience 'haggling' with this guy who got a kick out of bargaining with a fifth grader! He chose three pins, one which opened to reveal an opening day logo for the 2008 season. Cool. On our way to Ron from there, I got sidetracked by some low-priced '50's-'70's Topps cards for under $10. The seller was familiar, but we don't know each other. I just know that he sells at this show every year. I don't introduce myself, but let Ben's welcome presence at my side break the ice. We say 'Hi', and I browse. When I see the'71 Clemente, I bury it in the stack quickly. The '71's are black bordered and very sleek. The Clemente is special because the picture is of him kinda 'sighting' the bat he is holding out in front of his body with a very serious look on his beard-grizzled face. It's my favorite in the set. I begin to pull out some interesting cards to get together for a group price deal ,secretly ignoring the one I want. I hand him the stack and wait for his price. He checks them from his inventory list and says, “How 'bout $24.” Now's my chance. I pull out the Clemenete. It's probably exmt which is in my ballpark and books for $150.This guy has it marked for $45, so I say, “I am really eyeing this.” He pauses and returns, “I can do 'em all for $60.” Yep! I quickly pull the 3 twenties from my wallet and hand them over. Ben and I walk away with a nice haul., including a '73 Yazstremski, '63 Joe Adcock, 2 '67 Leaders cards, a sweet '69 hi series Tony Oliva dead centered, and a '67 Yankees team card w/ Mickey standing third from the left in the second row. A worthwhile diversion before Ron's table.
When I buy my display case for gigs like this, I'll get one which comes off the table like a storefront pastry case. Nice natural wood and plexiglass. Even better, it should have a glass shelf inside to put the memoribilia closer to the buyer. Ron's case is like this, just without the shelf. Most others are flat and easy to dismiss. So, as I approach the table through the side of the case, I begin to see all the mounds of cards he's got the cards fastened with rubber bands by set in this case. He is talking to the owner of one of the biggest card stores in the South bay, an unassuming, medium-built but intense-looking man about 5'7” with blond hair combed back in an short pompadour, named Kevin. His eyes lift acknowledging me. I greet both of them, and let him know I'm checking out his '33 Goudeys and tell him I'll be back after I eat breakfast in the kitchen. When we return, I request the stacks, but I don't see the Gehringer so I ask. “Nope', he says with a wry smile. He's a big guy a few years my senior. 6'2” or so with silver hair in the same style as Kevin, but a tad longer. He's got a welcoming smile which Kevin lacks, kinda carefree and easy to smile back at. He pulls out the '52 Topps, mistaking that I mean them and not the Bowmans. I pull out the Klu and a sweet #131, a pink-backrounded portrait of Dick Sisler, the famed .400 hitter's son. And then I spy a real attractive 1954 Red Heart Stan Musial. It's a short print from a regional issue put out by a dog food company from the MidWest, a sudsidiary of Morell Meat Company. Last show it happened the same way with a 1941 Double Play Ted Williams. I wasn't even there to find a Ted card, but there he was, absolutely not to be dismissed! So I asked. His voice went up and he pulled it out. It had a crease horizontally through the eyes, and a coupla of wrinkles on the back, but through the protective case, neither could be seen at all!! He had it at $146, which I knew I wouldn't be able to stretch to. He talked about his wife giving him the perfect gift of a Musial Biography for an anniversary gift as I pondered the pricing and fell more deeply for the card. Musial was contracted with Rawlings, not Topps, so during the height of his career 1954-58, cards with him were very rare and prized and this was one of the most valuable. He mentioned $200 for four cards, three '52 Topps and the Red devil. I ask about a '60 Mantle AS he's got listed for $46 and he shoots back “$240.” I feel stuck. He sees it in my face, and for some reason wants me to have the Musial...he's a wonderful guy, so he lets me go with the Mantle and the Musial and the Sisler which is just beautiful, for $160 and six forever stamps. I feel like a kid in a candy store!! I think he likes me, maybe because he knows I'm working in the school system. I'm real happy!! ...and completely tapped out. Another friend is just up the isle...so we drift up to him.
Bill is the sweetest guy, and he has the greatest stories, and a lot of high-value cards, however he deals in a bit more obscure cards and his taste isn't always matching mine. I ask about the Gehringer, knowing that if he has one I like, I'll need to run to the machine and go over budget. Thankfully, the one he has is not up to the condition I want. I show him the Musial and he tells me about a time he met the Man. It was in a furniture store, he begins, for some private signing event. “Stan must've been in his eighties in a wheelchair,” he says. Bill's a great storyteller. His expression and timing are immaculate! perfectly. So I get up to him and have him sign a picture, he continues, and I say to him, “Stan, do you think you can hit and play with these young guys today?” He waits and tells that the great hall of famer answers, “Well I can still hit, but who's gonna run 'em out for me?” Classic. Stories like these make me want to get something from his collection, but I don't today...still giving and receiving a warm handshake farewell. Ben has been the most patient, so I hand over my last $5 and he runs back to the pin guy to get the last pin he's been in my ear for. Then we break camp and go.
Check in on me and tap into some of the obscure history of baseball and my journey collecting baseball cards, our experiences at shows, some interesting player stories, and how a collector navigates his life.
An often over looked addition to the definition of a cartophile as a person enamored of maps is a second one stating the same about cigarette cards, trading cards, and gum cards. How is one not so enamored to think of those of us who are? I am a collector’. So be it.This of course covers millions of things from bottle caps and charms to rocks and statues to plants and taxidermy. Why then, do I think, “What would make a person collect such a thing!”, when I see other collections? I begin remembering how my own collection started. I had a critical point when I was 26, I quit using and drinking. It was through this angst that the desire to reconnect with the positive experiences from my upbringing manifested itself in several packs of 1989 Bowman baseball cards., then a hobby box, then another! And maybe it starts that way, in an desperate outreach, a blessed substitution or addition at a critical life moment, but that alone may only go so far as nourishment for the cartophile and cannot be enough to explain the full shelves currently in my office. For soon after it started, I had to reflect on it as unfavorable to share with friends. It's not cool to invite your friends to look at baseball cards, or talk to them about your latest favorite prize. Not the same as setting up a time to play tennis, or grab a coffee. No that initial realization that a 1989 Bowman Ken Griffey Jr card would begin to have some place in my life as a recapturment of youth when I needed it only went so far. To grow, the beanstalk it would need more than nostalgia for nourishment, it would need love. Indeed some hooking moments of nostalgia certainly don’t begin to explain the inner workings of the mind and motivation of very many true baseball card collectors. One such collector was Jefferson Burdick.
Mr Burdick was not a significant looking man. Our introduction came via Dave Jamieson and his book, Mint Condition, (Atlantic Monthly Press, 2010). As I read, I pictured an almost obsessed mole of a man, complete with geek glasses and some sort of a shoveled nose for pushing around and organizing an endless album of cards. Forever in motion I saw him incessantly pasting them to the pages unknowingly damaging the backs, but no matter.. He was admirable and tragic. He was ahead of his time. His dream was a lonely one, yet it somehow sustained a drive like a locomotive train and not merely of some puny tunnel-digging rodent. Shuffling around and organizing a collection, but not just a pile of cards, an epic of the grandest proportions which crowded around him in endless stacks of boxes upon boxes, albums atop albums encumbering makeshift shelves on every available wall space in his tiny apartment.. Mr. Burdick was an idealist who wanted to find, note, and catalog every trading card ever made. By no means a rich man, he never the less compiled an unrivaled collection which attracted the attention of The Metropolitan Museum in New York. Wow! The key to my fascination with Jefferson Burdick is in the simple and wonderful distillation of his unrelenting drive to collect given by Jamieson, He just loved cards! (p71).
Of course, this is the real food for nurturing a collection of baseball cards, isn’t it? Love. What? Love a piece of cardboard? Is it more strange to propose such a reason for what occurs in the mind of a cartophile or to dismiss it and the afflicted as some kind of strangely pathological adult trying to be a kid again? Surely a bystander’s observation of some sort of ‘man trapped by a juvenile obsession' doesn’t quite cut it! The hurtling momentum involved in the moments of time thinking... desirous of cards and the collection are only really explained by that word, Love. I love collecting baseball cards! There I said it. This and other pieces are to be an attempt to share it with you.
This state of mind I find myself in flounders for description. As near as I can clarify right now, it is my fatal attraction to the combination of the photo, painting or rendering, card style and card back, and my afore mentioned nostalgic connection. The experiences which I have had in ballparks, drugstores and my haven for collecting; my bedroom, and the mystique and history of the game and the endless learning about it which reveals so much about us as Americans. Whew! I really cannot think of card collecting in a business sense if I truly acknowledge that what I really want is to get lost. And I am lost, truly lost at times!!! As with any human endeavor, there's always a ‘catch’ though, right? Well, while I am admitting that for me, a real idealism in collecting is as significant as for a collecting god like Jefferson Burdick, Of course, no real pragmatism is involved! Yes, I am greatly interested in the value of my cards, but they aren't stocks or anything like that. How many ebay listings have I read where the seller is trying to convince me that this card described was always part of a college fund for junior.... If I could, I'd keep everything, but that's not how it works, isn't it? Cardboard is a pretty fragile investment, right? I can't use this cloak of it being an investment. If I work hard, I might be able to replenish my paypal account a bit, by turning some cards over and inevitabley at a loss, but I'd just end up re-spending it on another card or three soon anyway. :-) If I wanted a college fund, I'd buy gold, right? It's a hobby. Participation is included, and what I want! So, what becomes of this?
Now, when I search for a new card or think about my collection, somehow it quietly re-balances me. I love the search, and there is no need to feel disappointed, ashamed, or regretful. It is some sort of grail which quietly evolved, the collector's daydream and subsequent reverie which so effortlessly puts aside the tragedy in where the world took me that day. It's as compelling as any drug I've ever taken. I marvel at how perfect it is. I like everything about it and am also a bit suspicious of the way I feel. At the same time, however, I am happy to latch onto to something to take my mind off of a pressurized life. It feels triumphant to be attracted to something considered healthy and not a waste of money. Instead of drugs, right? I guiltily look forward to sorting a set, or cataloging player lots, or even rearranging boxes on shelves. So, the door was opened for me to learn as much about myself.as anything else.
I began learning about the rich history of cards and collecting in part because of those 1989 Bowmans. It began quite simply. Do I like the card? What is the back-story of it? And, yes, could it appreciate in value. That's my initial criteria. If I like it, it is worth the price...usually., but I'll let it go if good sense tells me it's above a reasonable cost. Ebay taught me that! So, what is it that I like? A card attracts me because it catches my eye. Ever come across that explanation from a collector? Totally true for me. It could be the intense blue sky behind the player, as on the 1953 Bowman Joe Adcock card, the starkness and ultimate grace of motion in a Ted Williams Exhibit arcade card, the frozen defensive leap and purple color of the 1950 Ferris Fain, the perfect baseball dugout contemplation shot of the 1989 Topps Don Mattingly, (not worth a plug nickel, but honestly one of my favorite cards!), or the classic style of the 2006 Legendary Cuts ‘When It Was A Game’ Lou Gehrig, I've just got to see or know that something in it or about it, to like it! Simplicity and succinctly beautiful, right? Hmm that true? Maybe I'm just cloaking that old monkey lurking over my shoulder from days past....
When I did find collecting, I marveled at how perfect it was. I liked everything about it and was indeed a bit suspicious of the way I felt. At the same time, however, I was happy to latch onto to something to take my mind off of things. I felt triumphant to be attracted to something considered healthy and not a waste of money. Instead of drugs, right? I could look forward to sorting a set, or cataloging player lots, or even rearranging boxes on shelves. So, you're thinking OCD, right? Right!
My mind has no doubt been subject to certain conditions ripe for this love and learning to come and grow. Cartophile? Yes! I can say a trite aphorism like ‘happy collecting’ or ‘happy bidding’ to end this umm, public explanation if you will. It’s clearly a bit more personal for me, and never-ending So, I’ll just ask you to maybe understand a bit more than before you read this piece , check in on me now and then, and say a prayer or a meditation for me and anyone out there like me when you’re of a mind to...
The First Bean ball?
It’s quite possible the first bean ball came whizzing by on this day 150 years and six months ago.
The place was Fort Sumter. The date was April 12, 1861. The time was 4:30 a.m.
Tensions were mounting between the Union and Secessionists. Fort Sumter was a Union stronghold built on a reef at the harbor entrance of Charleston, South Carolina. Seven states had formed the Confederate States of America and war was eminent. The Confederate Commanding Officer, Brigadier-General. G.T. Beauregard, had repeatedly requested surrender from the Union Commander of Ft. Sumter, Maj. Robert Anderson. At the refusal of Major Anderson, Beauregard warned him of impending artillery attacks.
A New York born artillery captain in the U.S. Army had been awakened by his commanding officer to warn him of the attack within the hour. He was advised that the Union troops would not retaliate until dawn. The drowsy NY captain decided to catch a few more winks.
At 4:30 a.m. the first cannon was fired ceremonially by Edward Ruffin, a “fire breathing” secessionist who couldn’t wait to teach the Northern Liberal Yankee’s a lesson with the start of a war.
The cannon ball hit the side of the wall of Fort Sumter. At the other side of the wall, twelve inches away, was the head of the sleeping NY artillery captain….a rude awakening….He later stated “The cannonball arrived in very unpleasant proximity to my right ear”. He went to the mess hall for breakfast and found the officers “calm and even somewhat merry” as the secessionist batteries pounded the Fort.
As daylight broke the NY captain was given the honor of sending the retaliatory first strike back…..and thus America’s bloodiest war began.
The U.S. Army Artillery Captain from NY, the first “bean ball” recipient and retaliator, the man who helped initiate the fighting was none other than Abner Doubleday.
References:
- Blood, Tears, and Glory; How Ohioans Won the Civil War. James Bissland
- http://www.civilwarhome.com/ftsumter.htm
The First Bean ball?
It’s quite possible the first bean ball came whizzing by on this day 150 years and six months ago.
The place was Fort Sumter. The date was April 12, 1861. The time was 4:30 a.m.
Tensions were mounting between the Union and Secessionists. Fort Sumter was a Union stronghold built on a reef at the harbor entrance of Charleston, South Carolina. Seven states had formed the Confederate States of America and war was eminent. The Confederate Commanding Officer, Brigadier-General. G.T. Beauregard, had repeatedly requested surrender from the Union Commander of Ft. Sumter,Maj. Robert Anderson. At the refusal of Major Anderson, Beauregard warned him of impending artillery attacks.
A New York born artillery captain in the U.S. Army had been awakened by his commanding officer to warn him of the attack within the hour. He was advised that the Union troops would not retaliate until dawn. The drowsy NY captain decided to catch a few more winks.
At 4:30 a.m. the first cannon was fired ceremonially by Edward Ruffin, a “fire breathing” secessionist who couldn’t wait to teach the Northern Liberal Yankee’s a lesson with the start of a war.
The cannon ball hit the side of the wall of Fort Sumter. At the other side of the wall, twelve inches away, was the head of the sleeping NY artillery captain….a rude awakening….He later stated “The cannonball arrived in very unpleasant proximity to my right ear”. He went to the mess hall for breakfast and found the officers “calm and even somewhat merry” as the secessionist batteries pounded the Fort.
As daylight broke the NY captain was given the honor of sending the retaliatory first strike back…..and thus America’s bloodiest war began.
The U.S. Army Artillery Captain from NY, the first “bean ball” recipient and retaliator, the man who helped initiate the fighting was none other than Abner Doubleday.
References:
1. Blood, Tears, and Glory; How Ohioans Won the Civil War. James Bissland
2. http://www.civilwarhome.com/ftsumter.htm
Best Baseball Quotes
I’m not sure there’s a more colorful sport than baseball.
The stadiums are all different. What other sport can you have different field sizes in different locations. Can you imagine the Dallas Cowboy’s with a 90 yard field and the Washington Redskins with a 110 yard field.
A nine inning game can last two hours or six. There’s never a tie. Can you imagine a football game ending in the third quarter because of rain. A baseball game can end after it’s slightly over half way finished.
The owners, GM’s, umpires, managers and players have also contributed to it’s uniqueness. The’ve made the sportswriters job easy and have sold many newspapers by their antics on and off the field….but their quotes are amazing….these are twenty of my favorites!
Speed is so important …..
#20. "One time he (Cool Papa Bell) hit a line drive right past my ear. I turned around and saw the ball hit his ass sliding into second." Satchel Paige
Cool Papa Bell, a future NSB player?
#19. “If he raced his pregnant wife he'd finish third”. (on catcher Mike Scioscia)…Tommy Lasorda
#18. "Problem with (John) Wockenfuss getting on base is that it takes three doubles to score him." Sparky Anderson
Ouch! Crank their steal frequency to high and set some records (cs)!
Then there’s bat speed…..
#17. "Once (Stan) Musial timed your fastball, your infielders were in jeopardy." Warren Spahn
There’s the mental aspect of the game…..
#16. “You teach me baseball and I'll teach you relativity. No, we must not. You will learn about relativity faster than I learn baseball”. Albert Einstein
So what chance do we have? Ask Mickey Mantle.
#15. "It's unbelievable how much you don't know about the game you've been playing all your life." Mickey Mantle
Or maybe better yet, ask the Berra’s.
#14. "Baseball is ninety percent mental. The other half is physical." Yogi Berra
#13. “The only thing my father & I have in common is that our similarities are different”. Dale Berra
Is this what Einstein meant by relativity?
Is John Lowenstein related to the Berra’s or the Einsteins?
#12. "They should move 1st base back a foot to avoid all those close plays" John Lowenstein
How about the players we can relate to….
#11. “We was going to get you a birthday cake, but we figured you'd drop it”. Casey Stengel to MarvThroneberry
#10. "I was the worst hitter ever. I never even broke a bat until last year when I was backing out of the garage." Lefty Gomez
#9. "Son, we'd like to keep you around this season but we're going to try and win a pennant. Casey Stengel
Ouch! Hope they’re not type one contracts!
Nothing like an insightful manager…..
#8. "All I know is (as a Yankees Manager), I pass people on the street these days, and they don't know whether to say hello or to say good-bye." Billy Martin
#7. "There are three types of baseball players: those who make it happen, those who watch it happen, and those who wonder what happens." Tommy Lasorda
#6. "The Yankees don't pay me to win every day, just two out of three." Casey Stengel
#5. “I manage better when DiMaggio’s in center”. Casey Stengel
We all can relate to Casey Stengel with the last quote.
Then there’s the ego necessary to play MLB…..
#4. "What the hell has Hoover got to do with it (his contract being bigger than the Presidents)? Besides, I had a better year than he did." Babe Ruth
The Babe snapping back at sportswriters!
#3. A young sportswriter was interviewing Ty Cobb later in his life. The sportswriter asked Cobb how he thought he’d hit against modern pitching. Surprised by the answer of only .300, the sportswriter thought he had a major scoop. He asked again, you would only hit .300? Cobb responded…..
"You've got to remember - I'm seventy-three years old”!!!!
The Cobb quotes is one of my all-time favorites.
Quote #2 is brilliant in its simplicity. It should be instilled in all young hitters and pitchers alike. It describes baseball in the simplest way possible. A way even Albert Einstein could understand…
#2. "Hitting is timing. Pitching is upsetting timing." Warren Spahn
It’s the Gettysburg Address of Baseball. Forget the curveball kids. Learn a fastball and changeup and you learn to pitch, and save your arm in the process!
Finally the quote we can all relate to…..
#1. "A ballplayer spends a good piece of his life gripping a baseball, and in the end it turns out that it was the other way around all the time." - Jim Bouton
How True!
Ron J.
The Interesting History of the Moonlight Grahams pt. 3.5
Written by Richard MabeeWelcome back Grahams fans. Here we have the back end of my report that got initially deleted by my Twitter account for having too many characters. Sort of like this team.
Needless to say, once the Rumble started rumbling with other teams during pre-season, the word got out quickly. Rightfully so, I might add. The pictures at the beginning of the previous article are from a pre-season game between the Rumble and the Juicers. (Rumble player on right.) The superiority of the specimen is apparent. (Of course, these players didn’t come cheaply. The Argonauts had to transfer their entire uniform budget over to payroll. Well, the Commissioner’s Office worked on solving the problem and, since they were already here and their trireme needed repairs, he obtained work permits for this crew for one season.
And the cat was neutered.
Once the season started, the throngs of fans who came out to see quality baseball soon forgot the scandal. Why, both fans at the Grahams opening day said they hadn’t heard of it at all.
Things got started swimmingly, as some late additions that James Earl Jones found in a cornfield somewhere in Iowa joined the team just before the opening series. These guys sure looked like geezers when they arrived, but they looked years younger once they got on the field. Ed Reulbach, one of the geezers, has been the staff ace so far, although none of the other starters seem to have any interest in the job.
The offense has tried mightily to compensate. Producing about 5 runs a game, half a dozen players have on base percentages above .400, with Jimmy Foxx and Elmer Smith reaching base more than half the time. Other than the drubbing they took at the hands of the Rumble in a rare home and home series, it appears the all out offensive attack is working. But let’s hope the pitching come around or it is going to be a long summer.
One of the possible explanations for this offensive surge may be because the outfield is well rested. If you count Orsatti and Spencer (Trolla seldom does) this team is carrying 8 outfielders. Maybe some of them can try their hand at pitching on their off days.
Well, here comes Ron Villone with another bucket of paint. Seems John D’Aquisto was experimenting with a new ‘flash fried’ method of barbeque and started a grease fire by the bullpen, resulting in a lot of smoke damage. Next game I think I’ll stop at McDonalds on my way to the ballpark. I wonder if Ronald can pitch… Maybe his cousin Ben?
The Interesting History of the Moonlight Grahams pt. 3
Written by Richard Mabee
It has been crazy travelling with the Grahams the past few weeks. There has been SCANDAL! LIBEL! I’m hearing thing I never heard in the Bible. But I am getting ahead of myself. My last report was before the draft was even held.
Now, the personnel around here sure have changed. Half of the original guys are still around, but that is only if you count those doing non-game related. Chris Codiroli is still working as the groundskeeper and seems to be thriving in the job. Other than that ugly incident when he ran over Babe Dahlgren, I think he’s completely mastered it. Ron Villone is assisting him. I saw him painting over the scorch marks in the bullpen the other day. Jose Molina was hired to be bullpen coach. Jim Thorpe is running the concession stand, and John D’Aquisto has opened a BBQ stand out by the bullpens. I hope he can control the heat out there better than he could in San Francisco.
Some of the guys actually made the team. Shane Spencer impressed Trolla so much with his bat, he has been able to supply one to every hitter before he hits the on deck circle. He tells me that the Skip assured him he will get in a game some day.
Frank Mancuso was so impressive in camp he made the team as backup catcher. He will need to continue to produce though, because Chris Hoiles is on the DL for some injury after he was hang gliding off the hotel roof. Details are still muddled.
Al Downing pitched well enough to make the rotation, but, given it’s performance so far, that isn’t saying much. George Puccinelli is playing pretty well in the outfield. Bert Niehoff is doing well in the utility infield role and Betancourt broke camp with the closer role.
After final cuts were made, and the team was on the way to the airport, Ernie Orsatti was discovered sleeping in an overhead luggage compartment. The coaching staff so appreciated his determination in keeping out of Trolla’s office, it was decided he could stay with the team. He still is looking for first base.
The draft was thought to have gone well, but the league’s first “incident” occurred during it. Seems Argonaut owner Jim Hepner got the date of the draft wrong and his cat fell asleep on his computer keyboard. Suddenly his team was stocked with illegal aliens of the worst kind, half breed real aliens. They reportedly reported to camp rowing across the Great Lakes in a Trireme, like galley slaves.
Graham’s GM James Earl Jones noticed this and wanted to sign some of these guys himself, just to prove he could sign real talent. Despite warnings to the contrary, he locked himself in a room with Pedro Cerrano and Jobu for three days, after which a few of these pseudo players showed up. Unfortunately, they were the weak links culled from the herd, as they have so far been as bad as the rest of the pitching staff.
Look for the second part of this narrative tomorrow. (or the next day)
A little more than a month ago, while browsing this very website prior to succumbing to the temptation to spend way too much time playing fantasy owner/gm, I was especially captivated by a single sentence. Discreetly placed among the mundane details of League play and configuration options is a simple yet powerfully meaningful phrase. If I may quote. “Because of the philosophical convictions of our founders, our game never uses the DH.” !!!!!
Hail to the Founders!! Long live the Founders!!
To the NSB Founders I offer my most humble thanks.
Just to be clear, I am no fan of the DH. I consider it a pestilence over the landscape of baseball. Fortunately for me, as a National League fan, the infection is confined to the American League and I fervently hope it shall spread no further.
I was reminded of those “philosophical convictions” earlier today as I read an article about Adam Dunn’s curious regression since being signed by the White Sox to bash the long ball and pile up rbi’s. Known as a power hitter, Dunn is apparently determined to do his part to help opposing AL pitchers keep their ERA down and pad their strikeout totals. He’s hitting .169, has struck out 150 times and sports a lusty .298 slugging average. But, giving credit where credit is due, that is one point higher than his OBP. His eleven homers and 40 rbi’s trail Paul Konerko’s team leading 28 homeruns and 84 rbi’s by more than a little bit. AL pitchers don’t seem to perceive the “power threat” either as Dunn also has drawn two fewer walks than Konerko. I know it’s an unfair comparison, but I simply can’t resist…Cliff Lee is hitting .212 and has a slugging average of .364. Granted he’s hit only 2 homers but that works out to one every 27.5 AB compared to Dunn’s 1/32.3. Lee has struck out once every 2.5 AB compared to Dunn’s once every 2.37. How thrilled the Pale Hose and their fans must be with their designated hitter…
Since its inception in MLB at the start of the 1973 season, the DH rule has been the subject of much controversy. Proponents claim it makes the game more interesting and allows players nearing the end of their careers to contribute a while longer. Opponents argue that it dilutes managerial strategy and is no more than a gimmick to put fannies in the seats.
Baseball has undergone many rules changes during its existence, some designed to prevent ‘trickery’ such as the infield fly rule. Others attempted to strike a balance between offense and defense so that neither had a distinct advantage. Until the DH rule, which simply put, was intended only to increase the owners’ revenue. In the late 60’s pitching dominated baseball as evidenced by Carl Yastrzemski winning the AL batting title in 1968 with a .301 average and Bob Gibson’s 13 shutouts and 1.12 ERA the same season. AL owners, aware of the fans lust for the long ball were determined to find a way to profit from it. And so they did five years later.
The supporters of the DH will ask “Who wants to watch the pitcher strike out anyway? It’s boring.” Probably the same people who watch Adam Dunn strike out…
The Interesting History of the Moonlight Grahams pt. 2
Written by Richard MabeeThis just in, the Moonlight Grahams general manager, James Earl Jones has just announced the signing of a manager to helm the fledgling team. Jones stated, “As you all know, I am a bit out of my element here, but I do intend to do the best job I can. To do that, I have started to assemble a wide array of baseball talent around me, so the Grahams can look forward to a successful future.
“An integral part of that process is to bring in the best talent you can find to lead the team on the field, and the best I could do was longtime veteran coach and manager in the very independent leagues, Igor Trolla. Unfortunately, Igor isn’t here today, but is at our training facility, where he thought this announcement was to take place. I am sure he will be able to speak to all of you really soon.”
As luck (and the intentions of the author) would have it, our crack reporter Cubby Carpenter was at the Graham’s spring facility this morning and was able to land an interview with Trolla prior to the official announcement.
CC: So, Mister Trolla, is there any truth to the rumor that you are going to be taking over this team?
IT: Well, kid, I didn’t come to this godforsaken dusty diamond for my health. You would think with all the money those three have, they could at least hire one groundskeeper.
CC: OK then. But, if you don’t have a groundskeeper, who is that out in the outfield on the riding mower?
IT:, That’s Chris Codiroli, one of the first wave of players the team signed. He came right up to me and said he’d do anything to stay with this team. I had him throw for a few minutes and thought ‘Here’s the start of a groundcrew’.
CC: What made you think that?
IT: Well, a pitcher is supposed to throw strikes, right? This kid, the closest he came to the plate was the one he threw into the visiting dugout. Which reminds me.,we’re gonna have to replace that water cooler. He’s go a lotta heart tho’ so I couldn’t just show him the door. I offered him the grounds job and he let out this big yell, claiming to be the 1st person to make the team.
CC: Before I ask you about the other players you have in camp, why don’t you tell us a little about your experience?
IT: Well, I started out as a coach with the Richard Specs of the EBA Classic league. That’s one of the oldest of them , what is it? It has to do with cooking chicken on a spit… well, nevermind, let’s just say they were good. I hear they are back in business, but I was under contract at the time. It was a shame when they suspended operations. I think they still hold the record for most league championships.
CC: So where did you go from there?
IT: I went to manage for that typing school team, the Huntin’ Peckers. We were a contender every year. Of course, then they sold the team to that cigar company, the Henry Clay Cigar company. First thing they did was fire my butt. So I went to work for the Reykjavík Northern Lights. Other than the travel, that wasn’t a bad job. At least while it existed.
CC: What do you mean?
IT: Well, they left me behind on the last roadtrip of the season to scout the Tanstaafl SOBs, who were their first playoff opponent. But when I got back to Reykjavík, the team had disappeared.
CC: Disappeared?
IT: Yup, strangest thing. The bottom fell out of the Icelandic banking industry and the team vanishes. They didn’t even leave the stadium. Why, they even tore up the parking lot. It was like it never existed. Had to pay my way back home, too. So, by then, the puppet manager running the Clays was in trouble, so they hired me back as a bench coach.
CC: Why do you call him a puppet.
IT: Because he WAS. Had strings and everythin. Oh, I know, you’re on of those highbrow fellas. OK, marionette manager. Better?
CC: Moving on…..
IT: Well ,it wasn’t too long before they sold the team to the new Governor of New York, and they changed the name to the Spitzer Swallows. But, with the scandal, that name didn’t last long. Then it was sold again, this time to Shwinn, and another new name, the Blue Test Cycles. Well, by then I had had enough. I couldn’t remember who I was working for, so I quit, and found a job as batting coach for the Labrador City Ice Hats in the Newfoundland-Greenland league. Then this Jones fella calls and asks me to “Go the distance” or some foolishness, which I took to mean he was offering me a job. And here I am.
CC: Interesting career so far. So, tell me a little about the talent.
IT: Ain’t none. This lot is the sorriest pile of scrubs I’ve seen in my life.
Cc: Surely somebody can play a little bit here.
IT: You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Of course it isn’t ALL bad news. Betancourt can pitch a little bit, and so can Downing, just as long as nobody mentions Hank Aaron. Musta’ had a bad experience in that league. They tell me Spencer can hit, but so far all I see is batting practice power, Pouchie seems to be able to swing the bat, but the rest is questionable at best. I mean, Emil Verban? We cut him up in Labrador City, and this is supposed to be a better league? And Jim Thorpe? Can somebody tell him that meeting a King doesn’t make you one. When we start playing real games, he’s gonna have to lose that crown.
Chris Codiroli: Hey Skip! Strangest thing I ever saw out there?
IT: What is?
Codiroli: The bullpen. They’ve got fire retardant walls out there. And the scariest thing is all the singe marks behind the plates out there. ‘Course Villone took one look at it and said it looks like home.
IT: This could be a long season, kid. I just hope they pick up some real talent in next week’s draft.
Next time: Some draft picks start to arrive and some of the ‘filler’ starts to go home