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| Monday, June 17 Remembering the good things about baseball By Jim Caple ESPN.com |
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The commissioner says six teams could be on death row. The union is debating strike dates. Columnists are outraged that players are using steroids. Attendance is down throughout the majors. And the biggest question over the weekend was whether the best pitcher of our era would get beaned. But enough of that. As school lets out and the longest day of the year beckons, let us ignore the usual offering of negatives and instead savor the simple joys of the summer game ...
Staying up late watching a game from the West Coast as it goes into extra innings, promising yourself, "This is absolutely the last inning, then I go to bed, I mean it this time." Eating a bag of nachos at the same time, promising yourself, "This is absolutely the last one, then I put the bag away, I mean it this time." Buying a pack of baseball cards, eagerly opening the wrapper while hoping for Jason Giambi, Ichiro Suzuki and Nomar Garciaparra, only to get Jeremy Giambi, Mac Suzuki and Jose Parra instead. Fenway's Green Monster and Wrigley Field's ivy. Grabbing the morning newspaper, ignoring the headlines about falling stocks, church scandals and terrorist warnings, and turning directly to the page that holds the only information that really matters. Then reading those box scores as if you were Eisenhower studying the invasion maps of Normandy in 1944. Even though you have the speed of Edgar Martinez, the swing of Al Leiter and the body of Richard Garces, holding your bat out straight at the company softball game and tugging the shoulder of your uniform as if you were Ichiro. Boog Powell's barbecue pit and Milwaukee's secret stadium sauce. Going to a Little League game and asking the concession stand volunteers to pour so many flavors over your snow cone the ice turns a color seldom seen outside of Kelly Osbourne's hair. Listening to infielders shout, "He can't hit, he can't hit!" while letting the juice dribble down your chin. Attending a minor-league game for less than the price of beer at Yankee Stadium and watching the dizzy bat race, where two fans place their foreheads on an up-right bat, circle it 10 times, then stagger toward first base as if they were Dudley Moore rushing to meet Liza Minnelli in "Arthur." Batting practice and the seventh-inning stretch. Finding an open parking spot three blocks from the stadium, loading up on peanuts from a street vendor and buying box seats for half-price from a scalper. Walking into the ballpark where you are greeted by the sounds of batting practice and a field so green it could have been lifted from a jacket at Augusta. Putting off Lumberg's TPS reports to compile your softball team's statistics with a precision that would shame the Elias Sports Bureau. Shaking your head in awe when you realize that despite having softballs lobbed to you underhand by 33-year-old computer programmers, no one on your team has an OPS as high as Barry Bonds. Sammy Sosa's "heart-heart, kiss-kiss, peace" thing. Switching the car radio from station to station, picking up bits of games from several distant cities at once, allowing the sounds of baseball to carry you home as smoothly as a chauffeured limousine. Catching "Pride of the Yankees" late night on AMC and speaking the "I am the luckiest man on the face of the earth" speech along with Gary Cooper. Renting "Field of Dreams" and choking back the tears when Costner asks his old man to play catch. Ernie Harwell and Vin Scully. Savoring a can of MGD Light at Chili's as if you were sipping Dom Perignom in Monaco when your boss buys a case of beer for striking out. Reminding him the pitch produced a mushroom cloud of dust when it bounced in front of the plate. Lying in the hammock, sucking on a Popsicle and reading a worn copy of "Ball Four." Falling asleep with visions of Joe Schulz pounding Budweiser in your head. Bob Shepard introducing Shigetoshi Hasegawa. Phoning in sick to work with a voice like Harvey Fierstein so you can catch the afternoon game. Going to work with a real hoarse voice the next day after screaming in the stands the whole game. Sneaking a radio under your blankets and drifting to sleep with the game still on.
Box score line of the week His lines: 7 IP, 5 H, 0 R, 0 ER, 1 BB, 11 K and 1 AB, 1 R, 1 H, 3 RBI, 1 HR And as for the pitch behind Clemens? "I missed my spot," Estes offered.
Lies, damn lies and statistics
Infield chatter
Jim Caple is a senior writer for ESPN.com. He can be reached at cuffscaple@hotmail.com |
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