Sunday, December 30, 2012

Three Stars Not Yet Aligning


It seems like a lot of people consider the Giants' recent success a fluke, or unsustainable, or not indicative of the team's mediocre ability. In their eyes, it took the miracle of 25 bad-to-slightly-above-average players riding a simultaneous hot streak through October. For them, there is no doubt that San Francisco will return to earth this season, and not continue to play at such a competitive level. 

But what if they have it all wrong? What if the Giants are underperforming?

Consider the three most important franchise players: Buster Posey, Pablo Sandoval, and Tim Lincecum. All three, at their best, are elite athletes who represent the pinnacle of their respective positions. But the Giants have never, I repeat, never, had all three playing like superstars at the same time. In 2008, his first full year, Lincecum won his first of two Cy Young awards and performed at a consistently elite level for the first time, so we shall start there. 

I know some of these stats are not as accurate as some others, but they are the classic metrics. ROOKIE OTY means Rookie of the Year, and AS means All-Star.

2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
Tim Lincecum
18-5
2.62 ERA
227.0 IP
CY YOUNG
AS
15-7
2.48 ERA
225.1 IP
CY YOUNG
AS
16-10
3.43 ERA
212.1 IP

AS
13-14
2.74 ERA
217.0 IP

AS
10-15
5.18 ERA
186 IP

Pablo Sandoval
NO FULL 
SEASON
.330 BA
25 HR
90 RBI

.268 BA
13 HR
63 RBI

.315
23 HR
70 RBI
AS
.283
12 HR
63 RBI
AS
Buster 
Posey
NO FULL 
SEASON
NO FULL 
SEASON
.305 BA
18 HR
67 RBI
ROOKIE OTY
NO FULL 
SEASON
.336 BA
24 HR
103 RBI
MVP
AS


In 2008, Lincecum performed at star-level, but neither Posey nor the Panda played a full season; Posey did not play at all. In 2009, Both Lincecum, who won his second consecutive Cy Young, and Sandoval, who had the second-highest batting average in the league and impressive power numbers in his first full season, played like stars. Posey made his major league debut but had only a few subpar plate appearances late in the season. In 2010, Posey broke out in his first full season and won the Rookie of the Year award while hitting cleanup for the World Series champion team, but neither Lincecum or Sandoval played like stars. In 2011, conversely, both Lincecum and Sandoval played great, but Posey was injured early in the year and did not play a full season. And last year, 2012, Posey won the MVP and played accordingly, but Sandoval was mediocre at best and Lincecum was absolutely awful. 

So let us review, and reference the chart below. The Giants, one of baseball's biggest successes, with three of the league's biggest stars, have never had a season in which all three of their standout players played great. Sure, one could argue that mediocre seasons could be in fact more indicative of these athletes' abilities, but that does not change the fact that, in the past five seasons, each has played like a superstar at least twice. The team has never even had Sandoval and Posey or Lincecum and Posey peak at the same time; the two seasons where two of the stars peaked did not involve Posey, quite possibly the best of the three.


2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
Tim Lincecum
✓
✓

✓

Pablo Sandoval

✓

✓

Buster 
Posey


✓

✓

Will it be hard for the Giants to win a third World Series title in four years? Absolutely. Will it be a challenge to even stay competitive, achieve another a winning record in the NL West? Sure. But that doesn't change that fact that if Tim Lincecum plays like he did in 2008, 2009, or 2011; Pablo Sandoval plays like he did in 2009 or 2011; and Buster Posey plays like he did in 2010 or 2012; we might just have another parade down market street.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

SEALS and little things...


Close your eyes for a moment. Imagine a parallel universe. Everything is the same except that for whatever reason, the San Diego Padres have to change their name. Maybe it was the capricious whim of the ever-brilliant Bud Selig. Maybe the Swinging Friar, the team mascot, tested positive for performance enhancing drugs. Or maybe Franciscan monks file a class action lawsuit against the team. At any rate, I have the perfect new name.

The San Diego Seals.

Now keep in mind I'm not advocating for a name change, I am just saying that if we went back in time to before 1969 and had to pick a name for the team, the Seals is so perfect that I am almost surprised that that is not what the team is called.

Obviously, the team could adopt the name, insignia, and uniforms of the San Francisco Seals, one of the most iconic baseball franchises on the west coast. The team could not hoodwink fans into believing that they are the very same team, but it would only take some great, Giants-caliber, marketing to co-opt some of the SF Seals history and culture. Remember that the Seals were founded in 1907, won 14 league titles, and fielded the likes of Joe DiMaggio, his brothers, and Frank Crosetti, who won 17 (yes, you read that correctly) World Series championships with the New York Yankees. And years before Willie Mays, Sandy Koufax, and Ichiro Suzuki traveled west (or east) the Seals and their Pacific Coast League brethren paved the way for the vibrant baseball culture across the west coast. This concept or re appropriation of another team's legacy is actually very common. The team that is now the Chicago Cubs was called the Chicago White Stockings in the late 1800's, and that is where the newer White Sox got their name. The team that is the New York Yankees began as the Baltimore Orioles, and their have been about three incarnations of "Rangers" teams. Even the Mets are named after an obscure 19th century team called the Metropolitans, and furthermore, they themselves try to re appropriate a lot of the Giants' and Dodgers' New York history. But that is not even the best part. Seals are intelligent marine mammals that frolic around San Diego bay in huge numbers. SD is a huge garrison town, Practically half the navy is based there, and even its city motto is modeled on the various armed services mottos. The seals name would pay tribute to the most elite fighting force in the world, something you know the Padres would be interested in, because they have a camouflage alternate uniform. And the dichotomy between the cute animals and special forces unit would provide a kind of depth that most team names lack.

But enough about that. I do not expect the Padres to change their name any time soon. But I thought this rant was worth including because, in a way, it demonstrates everything that is wrong with franchises like the Padres and Astros and everything that is right with franchises like the Giants, Dodgers, Red Sox, and Yankees. It takes discipline and vision and a whole lot of other attributes to run a professional baseball club. It is obvious that big-ticket signings and catchy promotions are key to running a great franchise, but one also has to look at even the smallest things; the dirt of the warning track, the view from a particular upper-deck seat, the color of chopped onions at condiment stance. Alone these are insignificant, but together they combine to vastly effect the experience of a ballgame and the image of the team. And so things like team names can function like canaries-in-the-coal mine. When a team fails to design an effective slogan or ballpark design, what else might be missing? Most likely, everything "less important"- the thousands of tiny things that combine to make a world class organization- are not up to standard. Any team (or almost any team) can lure a star player with a $100-million dollar check. If you really want to evaluated the quality of the organization, look at the brand, the name, the concessions, the color of the uniform, the alternate jerseys (or, preferably, the lack of alternate jerseys). 

Look at the small things.

Friday, November 30, 2012

Can You name every MLB team?

 "Baseball is the hurrah game of the republic! That's beautiful: the hurrah game! well — it's our game: that's the chief fact in connection with it: America's game: has the snap, go fling, of the American atmosphere — belongs as much to our institutions, fits into them as significantly, as our constitutions, laws: is just as important in the sum total of our historic life."

-Walt Whitman

Here is something I found on CNN:


(CNN) -- Quick quiz:
Name every big-league baseball team.
No fair looking it up online, or checking a newspaper sports page.
Just name them all.
Take your time. We'll wait.
(Pause)
Are you back?
If you could do it, congratulations -- you may belong in the Hall of Fame. I've followed baseball since I was a kid, and I couldn't come up with all the teams when I tried just now.

I don't feel so bad about it, because I asked two baseball fanatics -- guys who really know the game -- if they could rattle off all the teams, and they had their doubts. "I probably couldn't do it," said Rob Fleder, formerly executive editor of both Sports Illustrated and The National Sports Daily, and editor of "Damn Yankees," an anthology of original essays about the New York Yankees by celebrated writers, to be published next month. "I'm supposed to know this, but I'd probably miss one or two."
Fleder said that if you were to go up to people on the street and ask them to name all the Major League teams, "I'd guess that only 5% or 10% could do it -- most likely closer to 5%."
Author David Krell, who is at work on "Blue Magic: The Brooklyn Dodgers, Ebbets Field, and the Battle for Baseball's Soul," agreed with Fleder: "Less than 10% of people would be able to do it. Maybe a lot less. I know that I'd end up leaving some teams out."

The premise of this article was amazing to me. Of course I can name all thirty teams. I can list them by division, by league, by state, by 2012, 2011 ranking, by 2010 ranking, by the alphabet, by the manager, by best player, by uniform colors, by the style of mustache preferred by their part time left fielder in 1899 (if they were around back then) you name it. The concept that a true baseball fan could not name all the teams is amazing to me. But the article alludes to an important point.

Major League Baseball has too many teams. We could argue all day about this, make graphs relating the US population with number of teams and the revenue gained or lost or anything else. But this is circuitous and ultimately inconclusive.

For me, there is one point that proves that there are two many teams.  Major league baseball has 30 teams, which means that you either have a 14-team league and a 16-team league, which is the case now, or you have two 15-team leagues with interleague all year round, which will be the case come 2013. Neither of these options is attractive, because the 14-16 split is unfair and the idea of abandoning the hallowed interleague stretches in the dog days of summer.

So the options are to either create two brand-new MLB teams, or to take two away. I don't think there are enough fans or good players (or suitable cities, for that matter) for more teams, so our only remaining options are to strike two teams from the big leagues, preferably a team with no history, no fans, and modern-looking uniforms.

Hmmm....

Florida should not really have two teams...

The Marlins have a great new stadium, the Rays have an awful stadium...

The Marlins have no manager, the Rays have a great manager...

The Marlins have a great, young outfield, the Rays have a great, young infield....

The Marlins have a low payroll and very few fans, the Rays have a low payroll and very few fans....

Let me paint a picture. Merge the teams. Call them the Miami Rays. Logan Morrison and Giancarlo Stanton in the outfield, Evan Longoria and company in the infield. A top tier rotation (before the Marlins traded Josh Johnson and Mark Buehrle, I would have said best rotation in baseball, bar none). All led by Joe Maddon from the lime-green dugout with the built in fish tank in Miami. And the best part is the fans and payrolls would (presumably) increase and maybe possibly reach the levels of a big league team.

Sounds good right?

What other team would I axe? I don't know. What do you think?

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Johnson Time!

So apparently Davey Johnson is the best manager in the National league, according to a collection of sportswriters. 

Not Bruce Bochy, not Dusty Baker, not Bud Black. Davey Johnson.

It is not that I am surprised; just that I am extremely frustrated. Both Bochy and Dusty went further than Johnson into the postseason, the Giants manager won the World Series. Baker actually three Manager-of-the-Year awards (hereafter to be referred to as MOY awards, to save me the trouble of reaching up for the "-" key). So neither will be too upset with the decision, and I am not that worked, up, mostly because the MOY award is not that important. But I am irked. Here is why:

 Among all the major awards (CY Young, MVP, Rookie-of-the-year), it is the least legitimate. The MOY award is invariably given to a manager that led a previously pitiful team to respectability, meaning managing to a under-.500 record one year and over-.500 in the next. It doesn't matter to the voters how good the manager is or how good any other manager is. Manage a team to 100 loses three straight years? Great! No use all the high draft picks you've garnered and lull your division rivals into a false sense of security and take your revenue-sharing checks and put together a single winning season and the award is yours!

Here is the guy who should win: a good leader and strategist who leads a good team to good records consistently and, in a particularly banner year, shows his worth as captain to the ship. Here's who actually wins: A guy who either mismanages a team into the ground or takes over after someone else has done so, and improved the record, even marginally. 

There are 30 teams in Major League Baseball. Every year about half have winning records, and half have losing records. If the same 15 teams had above-.500 records every year and the same 15 teams had a under-.500 record every year, there would be no excitement and no bookies; and they wouldn't bother to show the bad 15 teams on TV. Now baseball is exiting, and there are bookies, and they show all 30 teams on TV. I have weighed the evidence for days and have come to the conclusion that maybe, just maybe, a team will occasionally fall from a winning record to a losing record, or vise versa. It does happen, every year. And yet each year the voters seem to think that the occasional, almost perfunctory, and very temporary change of fortunes means that whoever is at the helm of that teams is a baseball man at the level of John McGraw or Connie Mack, regardless of how bad they were in previous seasons. 

In other news, I have been busy and have many, many half-written blogs that are know probably throughly obsolete. I mean, in one that I wanted to post I used statistics from early 2010! I'll try to sort through them and update what I can. In one post I want to update with 2012 statics I graphed teams across an XY axis by runs scored and runs allowed and marked them by record. The conclusion is that the best recipe for success is middle to upper-middle pitching with torrid offense, not exactly the formula the Giants have used. I guess that makes it all the more impressive. 

Quotes by all-time great Walter Johnson:

"The beanball is one of the meanest things on Earth and no decent fellow would use it. The beanball is a potential murderer. If I were a batter and thought the pitcher really tried to bean me, I'd be inclined to wait for him outside the park with a baseball bat."

"I was the greenest rookie that ever was. One evening I was standing out on the sidewalk when a stranger approached and said, 'You're famous already kid. See, they've named a hotel for you.' I looked across the street and sure enough, there was a big illuminated sign that read 'Johnson Hotel.' Well, do you know that I was so green that I actually believed the man!"

Friday, October 12, 2012

Doing It Right

The Giants had a huge win yesterday, the biggest of the year unless you count Matt Cain's perfect game, and one of the greatest of the San Francisco era. The hero was likely-MVP Buster Posey, who continues to demonstrate that he, to use an irritatingly overused cliche even by irritatingly overused cliche standards, plays the game the right way.

In the locker room celebration Posey seemed reticent, and even after sending a grand-slam to the second deck, the Giants' catcher did not flip his bat or stand motionless to watch it. He did turn his head and look at it for maybe two seconds, which is long by his standards. That fact above all demonstrates his respect for the sport.

He reminds me of a great and under appreciated sumo competitor (sumo wrestler is not a term that rikishi smile upon). Akinoshima, a skilled rikishi from Hiroshima-ken, never made the highest sanyaku ranks, but he was a fixture of the top makunouchi division from 1988-2003, an impressively long stretch. He began training in his early teens and made sekitori status (being in one of the top two divisions, juryo or makunouchi) at age 20, making the top division the same year after only four juryo basho (tournaments).

He fought until he was 36, and in that time he won a record 16 kinboshi, meaning that, as a maegashira rikishi he beat a yokozuna 16 times. In practical terms, it means that being ranked, within the sumo world, APPROXIMATELY between about #9 and #42, he beat a living legend 16 times. There have been 70 yokozuna in the history of sumo, compared with 297 baseball players inducted into Cooperstown, and sumo's highest honor has been around a lot longer than the Baseball Hall of Fame. You do the math; Yokozuna is a very elite rank, and as a journeyman he beat one 16 times. Thats impressive.

Akinoshima fits the plays-the-game-the-right-way description too, although sumo is possibly better described as an art form or shinto right than a sport. He fought diligently, and garnered a mind-boggling 19 sansho, special prizes that are awarded for technique, fighting spirit, and outstanding performance. He also never drank, a stark contrast with virtually every other rikishi in history. And fighting in an era tarnished by yaocho (match fixing), yakuza links to sumo, drug use by rikishi, violent hazing, and a whole lot else, he was never implicated in any unsavory activity. This doesn't sound like much, but it is. In the top division rikishi who get big wins are often asked into the interview room, and it is easy to see that he was probably invited there more than most. But he always refused, saying it was disrespectful to the defeated rikishi. Both rikishi bow to each other before and after every match, win or lose. Most do little more than nod, but Akinoshima aways performed a deep and respectful bow, victorious or not. With the notable exception of fan favorite Homasho, few sekitori do this nowadays.

So in a vicious era for sports, we can at least count on Akinoshima and Buster.

Friday, July 6, 2012

NAGOYA BASHO PREVIEW

I haven't posted anything in a while as I have been very busy, but I have a handful of half-written and by now probably outdated drafts that I'll sift through. Hopefully, within the next few weeks I'll be back to posting frequently. Today, I would like to give a brief preview of the Nagoya sumo tournament (basho) which starts tomorrow at midnight San Francisco time.

Even the newest sumo fans are aware of the complicated situation regarding sumo and foreigners. The top ranks are dominated by non-japanese; the highest ranked wrestler (rikishi) is Mongolian and of the six wrestlers at the second highest rank, two are Mongolian, one is Bulgarian, and one is Estonian. Actually the number of gaijin in sumo as a whole is relatively low, about 10%, but the ones who are there crowd the top two divisions, and about 40% of sekitori (rikishi from the elite top two divisions) are not Japanese.

Sumo is in a very bad place for many different reasons right now. There is the hard lifestyle, somewhat like a mix between boot camp and being a monk, that dissuades many young Japanese from getting into sumo. There was the recent match-fixing (yaocho) scandal, which rocked the sumo world to its core. There are allegations that many rikishi had gambling ties to the Yakuza, Japanese organized crime. There was the controversial behavior of polemic retired star Asashoryu-zeki, who by all accounts did not live up to the dignity associated with his rank. And the expelling of multiple rikishi for drug use. And the death of a young trainee while being beaten by his oyakata (coach), which resulted in criminal convictions.  Record low interest in sumo. And all the other problems in Japan, from the earthquake to the economic crisis. The list goes on, and on, and on. But in the eyes of the Japanese "powers that be" no problem is so serious as the influx of foreigners within the top ranks of sumo.

There are six basho a year, and a native-born Japanese has not won one- not even one- for over six years. Many, probably correctly, consider this particular "problem" the biggest cause for sumo's waining popularity and overall position in society. This is probably correct, although there are many reasons for sumo's hard times, as I detailed above. The problem lies when the Nippon Sumo Kokkai (the Japan Sumo Association, the JSA) overcompensates for this problem. This manifested itself in a big way last basho, and is set to do so again this time around. Pretty much all of the top five gaijin (who occupy 5 of the top 7 spots in sumo) had subpar records, especially the highest ranked rikishi, the yokozuna, a Mongolian known as Hakuho-zeki. He had a 10-5 record, which is the worst he has ever had since attaining sumo's highest rank five years ago. Many cynical commentators believed that these men essentially took orders from the JSA to lay low to allow a pure-blood Yamato to win the tournament. While I tend to have a kind of see-no-evil attitude when it comes to this sort of thing, lest I become disillusioned with my favorite sport, I sort of agree.

Ironically, the poor performance by the top 5 foreigners (Hakuho-zeki, Harumafuji-zeki, Kakuryu-zeki, Baruto-zeki, and Kotooshu-zeki) only paved the way for another gaijin, veteran Mongolian Kyokutenho-zeki, to take the tournament. And when the rankings for the Nagoya basho came out, Kyokutenho-zeki had not even reached the fourth-highest rank, the lowest rung in the "titleholder" rankings. he remained in the "rank-and-file" group, and was only the second rikishi in history to win a tournament from the ranks and not make sanyaku (the titleholder ranks) for the next tournament. Instead, the lower two sanyaku ranks were filled up with four Japanese. Kyokutenho-zeki said "I probably really should be here", pointing at the sanyaku area on the rankings sheet. Rikishi are extremely reverent and almost never show emotion, much less second guess the JSA's judgement, so this shows how extreme the case is. The message from the JSA was clear. They will unabashedly do anything they can to put a native boy on top. even if it costs further stains on the integrity of the sport. For me, this makes me a lot less likely to root for Japanese-rikishi. Before, I had often rooted for them because I sympathized with their plight to bring back the glory. Now, it just seems like the foreigners are the ones admirably succeeding against all odds, the true rikishi deserving of admiration.

I apologize for the sloppy writing. As a side note, the suffix -zeki is a Japanese honorific that applies to sekitori, the 70 rikishi of the top two divisions. It is not part of their names. Photo below: Hakuho-zeki (left, holding the flag) and Kyokutenho-zeki (right) after Kyokutenho's surprise tournament win in March.


Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Play Ball!

Play Ball!
The season officially starts in about 22 minutes, when the A's and the M's square off in Japan. I'm awake right now (2:38am) because I cannot seem to get to sleep, so don't think I'm such an obsessive fan that I would stay up for this.

If I did stay up, however, it would be the sixth time I would have stayed up past 2am to watch a sport in Japan on TV. The last five times, I have been watching the haru-basho, where the yokozuna, Hakuho, beat out sekiwake (and soon-to-be ozeki) Kakuryu to take home his 22nd yusho. He still trails Asashoryu by three for the record for a foregin-born rikishi (they are both Mongolian) but could conceivably catch and surpass the legendary Chiyonofuji and Taiho, who have 31 and 32 yushos, respectively. Baruto was disappointing in his bid for promotion, mustering only a 10-5 record. He was overpowering against many of the rank-and-file sekitori but could not buy a win against a sanyaku rikishi. He has such raw power and is so young that he could still concievably make yokozuna in the future. Kotoshogiku and Harumafuji were disappointing, despite Shogi's usual ephemeral flashes of brilliance. On the other hand, a few of my favorite lower-ranked rikishi did well. My man from Shimane prefecture, Okinoumi, had a strong showing and should climb the banzuke. The Nate Robinson of makuuchi and a personal favorite, Toyonoshima, was fantastic, and shared the technique sansho with Kakuryu. He could even get promoted back to komusubi, but we'll see.

Still don't know what I'm talking about? Look it up!

This is my last chance to make "pre-season" picks so I am slightly revising what I had last time, I'll post my new predictions below.


AL West

1 Texas
2 Los Angeles 
3 Seattle
4 Oakland

AL Central

1 Detroit
2 Minnesota
3 Kansas City
4 Chicago
5 Cleveland

AL East
1 Boston
2 New York
3 Tampa Bay
4 Toronto
5 Baltimore
NL West
1 San Francisco
2 Arizona
3 Los Angeles
4 Colorado
5 San Diego
NL Central
1 St. Louis
2 Milwaukee
3 Cincinnati
4 Pittsburgh
5 Chicago
6 Houston
NL East

1 Miami
2 Philadelphia
3 Atlanta
4 Washington
5 New York 

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Young Prince Fielder

There are no words to describe this. Prince fielder circa 1992.


In other notes, the Giants need to sign Matt Cain, for however much money he wants, for however long he wants. He is one of the best pitchers in the league and, I think, a better starter that Tim Lincecum. Besides, without Cain my LinceCain shirt idea would make little sense. The Giants should learn from the Warriors. Letting a star go will just make the fans angry at the ownership and this will cancel out any positive effects on the payroll. Oh, by the way, there is nobody else in the Giants organization to take that spot in the rotation, anyway. 


Friday, March 2, 2012

Picks and Other Stuff


Baseball is right around the corner. The first pitchers and catchers reported on February 11th, Giants pitchers and catchers reported on February 18th, position players reported on February 23, the first spring training game is today, March 2nd, and the Giants' first cactus league game is on March 3rd, tomorrow. But who's counting?

I had written a complete article in which I displayed a statistical model I made (complete with a graph) to judge a particular team's standings. But two things, trouble with the computer program and unexpected results that I do not want to share until Matt Cain gets his well deserved eight year contract, keep me from posting the blog. I'll hopefully be able to post it in a few weeks. I had three ideas for statistics that I want to share before I get started. First, pitches per inning. This would seem like a no-brainer but for whatever reason "they" don't use it. Second, I believe that If you factor in stolen bases and caught stealing into OPS, it would be a much better measurement. I mean, a single and a steal is as good as a double. And if you further add home runs to OPS (which are admittedly already factored in multiple times) it would accentuate the importance of a homer. Here is my last idea: Take a given batter's runs and RBI total and add them together. Divide them by double the team's total runs scored and multiply by 100, and you will get a percentage which tells you how much of a given offense the player is responsible for. I would really like to see that. I would lead to great pie charts.

I recently heard a great stat. Barry Bonds is the all time leader in walks, intentional and total. So how far did he walk in all those 90-foot trips? a total of 43.6 miles. Coming down the road, probably before opening day, I will publish a rubric I designed to help "score" preseason picks. Unfortunately, I can't find my notes so that will have to wait. But today is the big day. I will give my picks for the upcoming season. See below. Due to my work load I do not have time to narrate. Also, please forgive the convoluted nature of this post. Again, I am really busy. 


AL West

1 Texas
2 Los Angeles 
3 Seattle
4 Oakland

AL Central

1 Detroit
2 Minnesota
3 Cleveland
4 Chicago
5 Kansas City

AL East
1 Boston
2 New York
3 Tampa Bay
4 Toronto
5 Baltimore
NL West
1 San Francisco
2 Arizona
3 Los Angeles
4 Colorado
5 San Diego
NL Central
1 St. Louis
2 Milwaukee
3 Cincinnati
4 Pittsburgh
5 Chicago
6 Houston
NL East

1 Philadelphia
2 Miami
3 Atlanta
4 Washington
5 New York 

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Repost: Reflections 10.30.2011

I am working on a new post, which should be up in a few days. In other news, I finally found out how to allow comments, so now anyone can post them, even without an account.

 It has always been somewhat irksome to me that all of my posts except for the first one appear on the same page. Try as I might, I could never find a way to get my first article on the home page. Now, you can see my other ten posts, but you have to search through cyberspace to find post #1. So I am now going to post the first article again. If you haven't read it, do not be thrown by the unchronological order. If you have, just ignore this post.

But everything will finally be in one place.


Reflections 10.30.2011




Let me begin by addressing Cardinals fans. Congratulations. That's about all I have to say to you. For me, the most significant thing about the redbirds winning the 2011 World Series is not about them. As a Giants fan, the thing I focus on most is, after Allen Craig caught that last fly ball with two outs in the top of the ninth inning, that the Giants are no longer the reigning champions. It is not so much that I am upset about this, though I am not exactly happy. I had come to terms with this over a month ago, when San Francisco was officially eliminated for the playoffs. The feeling I get from the Cardinals' victory seems almost like something a buddhist monk would experience. After the years of angst and disappointment I got year of euphoria, and I am now returning to earth. It seems almost satisfying, in some weird way. Let me try to explain why.

Winning the World Series was amazing. Even though I am young, the concept of the Giants being the champions of baseball seemed impossible. I followed the 2010 season and run to the playoffs with more devotion and obsession that I care to admit. But even with all the celebration and happiness, San Francisco's first MLB championship made me consider baseball from a completely different angle. There are thousands of quotes to the effect of 'the journey is what counts, the destination is not the true whatever…' I don't feel the need to pick one out right now. But it seemed true. I have never once entertained the notion that it would be preferable had the Giants not won it all, but being in the position of a fan of the World Series Champions made me look at things very differently. When, as a fan, it seems that EVERYTHING- every hit, every strikeout, every comeback, every win- goes towards the ultimate goal of winning the World Series, baseball can seem kind of insignificant after winning it all. It's not that my favorite team winning the championship isn't so great. I mean, "THE RIGHT HANDER FOR THE GIANTS THROWS… SWING AND A MISS! AND THAT'S IT!" is pretty much constantly replaying in my head. But think about it. Why do we cheer when our team wins? Why do we love it so much when a player on our team hits 30 home runs or has an ERA under 3.00? Why do we bask in the optimism of the spring and hang at the edge of our seats come September? Its all about winning the World Series. When the Giants did just that, there were twangs of sadness. Is this all baseball will ever mean to me as a fan? No matter what, will they ever be able to top this? And know everybody across the country (and Japan, for that matter) knew then about Andres Torres and Cody Ross and all of the players that we seemed to think knowing about put us in a special position, like connected to the team in some way. And what about all these bandwagon fans who will clog up the lines at AT&T Park and cheer for Brian Wilson, who I avidly cheered pre-beard. Worse, will people think I am a bandwagon fan? What is the point of it all?

I had all these feelings after the San Francisco Giants won the last professional baseball game of 2010. But as the 2011 season progressed, and people from San Diego to Boston forgot about the Giants (Although this was pretty @#$% annoying), I began to realize that the Giants were not special. Like every other team (but the Cubs) they would bask in their moment of glory and take their rings and move on. The tireless pursuit for domination would continue as always, and we will still cheer home runs and wins and laud our stars and run towards the pinnacle of baseball. There will always be records to set and records to break. This is the true greatness of the game, and of all sports. People like to deride sports fans as pathetic failures who consider themselves part of team that has nothing to do with them and are obsessed to an unhealthy level. But the feeling that anything can happen, the amazement, happiness, sadness, crushing defeat, eternal optimism, and irrefutable successes and failures of sports- these are all as important to life as anything else.  George Mallory expresses it best in perhaps my favorite quote ever, "if you cannot understand that there is something in man which responds to the challenge of this… and goes out to meet it, that the struggle is the struggle of life itself upward and forever upward, then you won't see why we go. What we get from this adventure is just sheer joy. And joy is, after all, the end of life. We do not live to eat and make money. We eat and make money to be able to enjoy life." Our jobs our not the most important things in the world. We live to seek happiness and to experience vast ranges of emotions. Nothing is more existential than baseball. That is why I am not ashamed to call myself a big Giants fan. That is why I'll sit against the hot stove through the winter and eagerly anticipate spring training 2012. Opening Day is 152 days away.

Life begins when the season starts.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Polo Grounds


There are few stadium in American sports as iconic as the Polo Grounds. The Grounds played host to the New York Giants (both of them), the Yankees, Mets, Jets, and dozens of other teams of varying importances and sports. In fact, the oldest know photograph of the field is of a memorial day football game between Yale and Princeton in 1882. There would not be much more time for more pictures. During an 1889 city-wide revamping, it is said that city workers "[showed] up suddenly one day and began cutting through the fence at the appropriate point for the new street." Despite public protest (the team had a large following even then) the stadium, which was, in fact, made for polo, was destroyed. The tenant ball club found a new site for a park very close to its present location (one Babe Ruth home run away, but I'll get to that later) and set about building a park that retained its original name, now called Polo Grounds II. This stretch of time was not particularly remarkable except for two things; the land was rented from the Coogan family (as in Coogan's Bluff) and the team was successful despite a stretch in which it did not really have a home ballpark. Shortly thereafter (1890) there was a dispute between players and the National League owners and many of the players left to form the so-called Player's League. Some Giants players moved (to their present location) to what was called Brotherhood Park and took the Giants name with them, while some stayed and continued to play in the National League. For an entire year, there were two Giants teams that were so geographically close that upper-level fans in one stadium could see the action in the other. The Players League went the way of the XFL and the NL team moved into Brotherhood park. The vacated Polo Grounds II then became "Manhattan Field" for its last few uneventful decades. Brotherhood Park's name was changed to… you guessed it. Thus was born yet another incarnation of the park, this time Polo Grounds III. This was on the very same location as the final version, and had many of the characteristics that we associate with the Polo Grounds of the 50's. 

I was in New York for the week for winter break, and decided that I have to go see the Polo Grounds themselves. The historical yard (version 4) was torn down in 1963, of course, but this did not deter me from going to check out the area. At 155th street, the former location is pretty much as far north as you can go without leaving Manhattan and far away from any present-day Manhattan landmark except maybe the Harlem River. I woke up at noon one day and ventured off into the city without a plan. Impulsively, I hopped on a green line train- I don't remember the specific train route- and disembarked at the last stop in Manhattan, at 125th street. I began to explore the area. 125th is near the heart of Harlem and it is filled with apartment buildings, fast food restaurants, and cheap stores. People were everywhere, sitting on all the steps in front of buildings and flooding the sidewalks. I spotted someone wearing a Giants cap, but he was asleep, in a wheelchair, and looked homeless. As I continued eastward, I got a phone call and had to abort the mission, returning downtown on the same train. Resolving to go back, I took care of what I had to do and this time took another train that would take me to 125th, but further west and closer to the site. I took a city bus up to 148th, which would leave me about 15 blocks away. I began walking up a street lined with small apartment blocks and industrial shops and turned to follow a wide road that eventually became a bridge over the Harlem River. I passed a large complex of apartment buildings that looked a lot like the x-shaped brick towers I had seen in pictures at the Polo Grounds, but ascertained that they were not the ones I was looking for. Approaching the river, and seeing "The House That Steinbrenner Built" it struck me how close Yankee Stadium was to the Polo Grounds. I knew that in actuality there was very little to be gained by visiting the site of the ballpark and had been hoping that I would learn one or two things that I couldn't without physically being there. This realization was just the sort of this I was hoping for. The distance between the two stadiums was probably less that a mile. Another such realization is that the park was just like 3rd and King- on the water. The Harlem river runs just past center field. 

In 1911, Polo Grounds III burned to the ground, leaving only the metal uprights and piles of ash. The cause of the fire that consumed the 21-year old stadium has never been discovered, but, at any rate, another New York based baseball team named the Highlanders let the Giants share their field. So the Giants packed up their bats and moved to Hilltop park until the 34,000 seat Polo Grounds IV was completed. It was only the second concrete-and-steel stadium in the National League, and had an unusual horseshoe shaped field short to the sides and a center field wall 483 from home plate. In 1913, the tables were turned and the Highlanders moved in to the Grounds as well. As their name was no longer relevant after their move from Hilltop Park, the Highlanders changed their name. And so the Yankees came into existence. In 1920, Babe Ruth was traded to the pinstripes from Boston and so then called 155th street his home ballpark. Ruth's first home run as a Yankee allegedly landed in the previously-mentioned and then-vacant Manhattan Field, aka Polo Grounds II. I just love this fact- Babe Ruth hit such a long homer that it landed in more or less the same park except two generations previous.  The distinct time-travel science-fiction note is very fitting with Ruth's mythical demigod legacy, I think. He didn't have the chance to hit many more (a relative term, to be sure) out of Coogan's Bluff. The two teams coexisted for a while, but in 1922 John McGraw, no longer feeling magnanimous, sent the Yanks and their star outfielder packing.

I finally approached the bridge and had to double back and cross the street in the direction of a mechanic's shop on a wedge-shaped street corner. I looked up and, with a perhaps overdone sense of wonder considering that I was looking at public housing buildings, realized that I was staring at the Polo Grounds Towers. The four buildings are massive and thirty stories high, and I still had a ways to go to get there. I passed the mechanic down a narrowish road that ran for two blocks until it ended abruptly at a dirty-ish hill, with what looked like an old hospital above. It was getting dark and I was eager to quicken my pace, and was not really concentrating on my surroundings. It was only just before I got there, that it occurred to me that I was looking at Coogan's Bluff. The Bluff was small and dirty, although not so insignificant as to cause wonder as to why it deserved a name. I am not really good at judging heights, but the hill towered over the three and four-story buildings across from it. It was covered with trees and dark rocks and dirt and copious amounts of garbage and dark dead leaves. To my right, an overpass of white-painted metal stood. Past that, the towers and their parking lot stood, waiting for the impeding sunset. 

In the old days, the sun would have set over a large Chesterfield Cigaret advertisement over the center field wall of the Polo Grounds that supposedly puffed real smoke into the air. The ad was set over a curious nook in the centerfield wall, maybe 50 feet wide and 30 feet deep. The playing area was more or less shaped like a horseshoe, 280 and 258 feet down the left and right field lines, respectively, and a booming 450 (approximate) feet to most of the outfield wall. The very back of the indented area was at 483 and was made up of windows that gave a limited view into the clubhouses. Over a sign marking the distance from home plate and a column supporting the overhanging clubhouses, a plaque remembers Eddie Grant, a Giants player killed in World War One (the plaque was later lost and recreated in AT&T Park). The clubhouses are raised and under the windows the playing area goes another few feet. Two flights of stairs lead up to each of the clubhouse doors, in Game 2 of the 1936 World Series Joe DiMaggio caught a long fly ball and ended up on the steps. These same stairs would have been in Willie May's line of sight, just to his left, when he made the legendary catch in the 8th inning of the first game of the 1954 World Series. No player ever hit the clubhouse, and only five players ever hit a ball into the center field stands since the remodeling of the park. It was just as well that no baseball ever reached the clubhouse window. Rumor has it that a Giants coach, Herman Franks, would sit at the clubhouse windows with a telescope and steal signs. According to his 2009 obituary in the New York Times, "Franks was said to have had an electrician alongside him activate a buzzer in the Giants’ bullpen in right-center field, one buzz for a fastball and two for a curveball. Sal Yvars, a reserve catcher in the bullpen, would listen for the buzzes. If Yvars held on to a baseball, the Giants batter glancing at him knew a fastball was coming. If Yvars tossed a ball in the air, it meant a curve could be expected." The section of center field was iconic and an unmistakable symbol of the Polo Grounds and the Giants. It would have been great if the Giants had tried to recreate this, even subtly, in San Francisco. If part of the center field fence was just a few feet indented from the rest of the wall (the rest could be brought in by 2 feet), if the plaque for Eddie Grant still stood there, if the Giants installed an old facade in the area above center field that currently has nothing, the Giants could have made AT&T more beautiful and interesting and saluted their past. There is still time for some minor remodeling. 

Walking to the opening of the huge parking lot, I noticed a long stairway dug into the side of the hill. It had been part of the stadium complex and, unlike the stairs in the outfield, had survived into the new millennium. It was the historic John T. Brush stairway, which had been used by untold thousands of patrons on their way to catch ballgames at the Grounds. The several sports teams that made up its still-in-business former tenants, including the Giants (yes, both), have pitched in to help preserve and restore the dilapidated stairs. According to a recent New York Times article, which itself sites a "Times article from July 9, 1913, retrieved by the Parks Department, says that on that day the baseball club would be formally presenting the 'John T. Brush Stairway' to the city. The Giants’ team president, H. N. Hempstead, was to present the gift to the city parks commissioner, Charles B. Stover, to honor Mr. Brush, the Giants owner who had died in 1912." I crossed the mall-sized parking lot and passed a few people who did not seem to notice me. The four buildings lie within a complex that will be marginally familiar to someone who has played the video game "Grand Theft Auto IV", which is based around a fictional New York and has levels near the fictional towers. Between the bases of the buildings there is a confusing maze of walkways, fenced-off grass zones, and small concrete open areas. 

More or less since the Second World War, the Polo Grounds were in decline. The stadium was horribly maintained, the neighborhood had once boasted the "darling of the jet-set" was destitute, and the Giants teams were awful. Ticket sales and fan following were abysmal, not just by premier-franchise-that-is-in-New-York standards but by any measurement. We all know the story, and the Giants and Dodgers moved west. The grounds were empty for three years, until the newly-formed Mets and NY Titans (soon to be NY Jets) moved in. This was only temporary, as the stadium was extremely undesirable, and the city decided to tear it down and replace it with public housing in 1961. The Polo Grounds were demolished in 1964 by workers in Giants jerseys and the very same wrecking ball that destroyed Ebbets Field in 1960. The wrecking ball was painted like a baseball.

The end of my mission was to find a plaque that marked the approximate spot of home plate. I asked a UPS driver out in front of the first building if he knew of any plaque, and he didn't, but he did confirm that the stairs I had seen were the famous ones. I started off, moving around and exploring the grounds. I tried several doors, retraced my steps a few times and wondered where everyone was. The sun was just about to come down, and it seemed like there was nobody around. I saw an old man sitting on a chair outside. I asked him, trying not to sound to interested, lest he think me a stupid eager tourist that had come without realizing that the field had become a slum. He answered affirmatively, he knew where the plaque was, and pointed me around the corner. I walked over, and there it was. It was bigger than I thought, on the side of a building in a nondescript location. It read:

POLO GROUNDS
APPROXIMATE LOCATION 
OF HOME PLATE 
HOME OF THE NEW YORK GIANTS 
NATIONAL BASEBALL LEAUGE
1890 - 1957 
WORLD CHAMPIONS
 1904 1905 1921 1922 1933 1954 
THE GIANTS SHARED THIS FIELD 
WITH THE NEW YORK 
YANKEES 
1915-1922
 THE NEW YORK METS PLATED HERE
 1962-1965 

I resisted the urge to add "2010" to the 8th line and took a picture, including one with my hand on the writing to prove I was there. I took off the way I had came. The UPS man was still there and asked me if I found it. I told him I had, and left through the parking lot. I ascended the famous steps, and came out on top of Coogan's Bluff. I crossed the street was walked atop the bluff, victoriously sending a few people pictures. The hill was just as dirty and unattractive from above. I looked back at top of the brick towers. I imagined all the people that had been right where I was, taking in a game down below. Watching Babe Ruth hit a home run into Polo Grounds II from Polo Grounds IV. Watching Willie Mays catch a fly ball facing away from home plate and fire in to keep the runner from tagging up. The view must have been fantastic. The poorest corner of Manhattan stretched out below, as far as I could see. 






As a side note, I will post pictures to go along with this article in the coming weak. I feel I should mention the massive $214 million 9-year deal Prince Fielder just got to prove that I also talk about current baseball. That is a great fit for him, as long as Miguel Cabrera is OK at third base and DH. FInally, I want to make clear that I haven't spend the last month since my visit obsessively working on this. I've been very busy and didn't get a change to write until this past weekend.