Disappointed in Cleveland and Other Follies

The last time I visited Cleveland, site of this year’s Republican National Convention beginning Monday, was back in 1998. I went there in October as part of a sales call on Telxon, a manufacturer of scanning equipment subsequently acquired by Symbol Technologies, a sometime advertiser in Chain Store Age. 

It occurred to me during the trip with our sales rep, Lise, that the American League Championship Series was to begin that night in Cleveland’s home ballpark, then known as Jacobs Field, now called Progressive Field. The Cleveland Indians would be hosting the New York Yankees.

Even more fortuitous, or so I thought, was the fact that our company had season tickets to Indians games (we also had season tickets to Yankees and Chicago Cubs games). With no resident corporate salesperson in Cleveland, perhaps Lise and I would be able to snag two seats to that night’s game. I called the New York office to check on the availability of the tickets, only to be disappointed to find out that not only were they not mine for the asking but also our company no longer purchased Indians season tickets since we closed down the Cleveland office a few years earlier. 

Ah, well. At least the Yankees won that playoff series on their way to winning the World Series. 

Desperate times call for desperate measures. During the summer softball season, desperate times usually means it’s summer camp visiting day, resulting in a dearth of players for a scheduled game. Desperate measures means the team captain calls up a retired player with a bad back to play a game. That’s how I found myself in the blazing heat on the pitcher’s mound Sunday morning, a position I enjoyed for more than 30 years but was more than content to let a younger generation swelter in the sun. 

I didn’t strike anybody out. I threw no fastballs. Couldn’t, even if I had tried. I walked only three or four batters. Mercifully, the regular nine inning game lasted only seven by virtue of the league mercy rule invoked if a team is losing by 10 or more runs after seven frames. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, my team had the lower run total. In that we share a problem with the New York Yankees. We don’t score enough runs to overcome our mistakes in the field and on the mound. 

Still, it was fun to be out there again, though my recovery time has elongated with age.

Thanks to our DVR’s, I rarely have to watch television commercials. We record most shows, even sporting events, for later viewing so we can zip through ad breaks. 

I’m not so lucky when it comes to non-Sirius radio listening, especially when I have the dial set to WCBS 880, the all-news station. I am always amazed that a station that purports to have an intelligent, decently upscale audience interested in finding out the news (not just weather and traffic conditions) sells so many ads for get-rich-quick or debt-reduction schemes (perhaps the ads are targeted to the same group—those who went into debt trying to get rich quick by investing in seminars for flipping homes).

I was struck the other day by an ad by a dentist seeking new patients. The dentist claimed he knew he wanted to be a dentist when he was nine years old. Really? Unless he was a devotee of Steve Martin’s pain-inflicting character in the movie version of Little Shop of Horrors, it doesn’t seem natural or plausible to me that a youngster would know at such a tender age that his lifelong ambition would be to stick his fingers into strangers’ mouths, mouths that often exude bad breadth. 

To please my parents I at one time said I might become a dentist (my brother had already landed the lawyer spot in the family). Fortunately for me, D’s in chemistry and biology disabused me of that silly notion. Mind you, I have nothing against dentists. They practice a worthy profession. Just not one I aspired to.

More Radio Ads: He didn’t turn up on my radio during the all-important Valentine’s Day celebration earlier this year but Rocky Moselle is back this summer hawking his International Star Registry. 

Perhaps Moselle figured if Donald Trump can snooker enough people to nominate him for president there are sufficient suckers out there who will swallow his pitch for the perfect way to express one’s love by naming a star for eternity after a beloved.

Competitive Balance

Once the World Series ends, the battle for Cliff Lee begins anew.

For those not familiar with Mr. Lee, he is among the pre-eminent pitchers in baseball. He currently hones his craft with the Texas Rangers, the team that twice beat out the NY Yankees when it comes to Lee. Last July the Seattle Mariners, Lee’s team at the beginning of the season, decided to trade him. The Yankees and Rangers pitched the Mariners various players in return for Lee. Seattle chose the Texas barbecue, not the NY strip (strike one). Texas then walloped the Yanks in the American League pennant series that concluded last Friday night in so convincing a manner it left no doubt which was the better team (that last clause was hard for a Yankee fan to write, but my journalism training impressed upon me the professional ethics of delivering all the news objectively, even when it hurts). Lee pitched just one game, a shutout gem (strike two).

Before my team’s ignominious defeat, I was indifferent, even slightly opposed, to the idea of spending Steinbrenner millions to sign Lee to a multi-year contract after he becomes a free agent when the World Series with the San Francisco Giants concludes. I reasoned that while I like to see New York win, I prefer they do it in competitive contests, not one-sided acclimations. It would be much more gratifying to win if the other team had a pitcher like Cliff Lee on its staff, as the Philadelphia Phillies did last year when they lost to the Yankees. How sweet that victory was.

But now that the Bronx Bummers looked so futile, scoring just 19 runs to Texas’s 38 during their six game series, I’m all for opening the coffers to buy Lee’s services. I believe baseball demands such action in the name of competitive balance. Let’s face it—without Lee pitching for the Yankees it is hard to imagine them winning another trip to the World Series in the foreseeable future. Derek, A-Rod, Mo, Andy and Jorge are not getting any younger. They still have lots of fingers with no rings to wear (A-Rod, especially, has four more empty fingers than the others to adorn). The Yankees need Lee and his shut down pitching because they just ain’t winning by scoring 1 or 2 runs a game in the post-season as once they face any team except the Minneapolis Twins, Yankee hurlers are serving up meatballs other teams are devouring.

This is not just a Yankee fan’s rant. Baseball needs New York in the World Series, and by NY I don’t mean the Mets. The Yanks bring out the passion in their fans and in the Yankee haters around the league. Other teams and their fans find it much more enjoyable and rewarding if they beat the Yanks, than say, the Cleveland Indians, or the Tampa Bay Rays. No team’s loss provides the imprimatur of victory more so than the Yankees.

So for the sake of competitive balance, the Yanks must sign Lee or winter’s chill will come to the Bronx while the calendar still says October for the next few years.

Of course, Lee might decide to stay in Texas where he is idolized, has a younger, hungrier team surrounding him, is closer to his hometown of Benton, Ark., is recognized as the ace of the pitching staff and wouldn’t have to compete in New York with his friend C.C. Sabathia for that honorific. If he chooses to stay with the Rangers, that would be strike three. In shutting out the Yanks on two hits last week, Lee struck out 13. It don’t look good.

Lost Advantage

It was too hot to go to the movies yesterday.

I had been planning to catch the 2:15 pm showing of Toy Story 3 at the Clearview Cinemas in Yonkers, part of my free film Tuesday series, courtesy of our Optimum Rewards membership. After bringing Ellie’s and Donny’s gear from a long weekend on Martha’s Vineyard and Cape Cod to their apartment in Brooklyn and returning to Yonkers in time to deliver meals to the homebound, I was ready to spend a couple of hours relaxing in air conditioned comfort.

Unfortunately, the Jeep I was driving was not too keen on bleaching out in the 100 degree sun on the totally exposed parking lot. Whether it was the triple-digit heat or a malfunctioning, underperforming a/c system, my morning drive confirmed Ellie’s report that the 12-year-old Jeep was not the most comfortable conveyance to be cooped up in, all the more so if it had several hours to bake in one spot. I reasoned Toy Story 3 would probably be around next week and that a visit to the dealership for an a/c tune-up Thursday would be a more prudent approach. After hearing a news report last evening that a car parked in the sun could have its interior temperature elevated by 50 degrees, I have no doubt I took the correct course of action.


Lost Advantage: Has Mariano Rivera jeopardized the NY Yankees’ chances for a 28th World Championship?

Because of nagging injuries, Rivera has backed out of this year’s All-Star baseball game next week in Anaheim between the National and American Leagues. The All-Star game winner determines home field advantage during the World Series. If the American League wins, it would mean games 1,2, 6 and 7 would be played at Yankee Stadium (I am assuming, of course, the Yanks will represent the American League. To presume otherwise would be heresy).

As the premier closer in baseball, the pitcher responsible for securing the last outs of a game, Rivera has never faltered at Yankee Stadium in the post-season, so gaining home field advantage would be a tangible and psychological advantage to the Yankees. While “Mo” has been stellar in other ballparks, he has four times failed to safeguard a lead during post-season away games—the 4th game of the 1997 Division Series in Cleveland won the next day by the Indians, the 7th and decisive game of the 2001 World Series in Arizona won by the Diamondbacks, and Games 4 and 5 of the 2004 American League Championship Series in Boston eventually won by the Red Sox.

Now, I don’t begrudge Rivera wanting a few days off during the All-Star break. His right knee and left oblique muscle are bothering him. But caution now could backfire in the World Series. Yes, there are other worthy closers on the American League roster. But every other closer blew a lead during last year’s post-season; only Rivera’s record was spotless. When that happens, the Yankees generally win.

There is no certainty the All-Star game would even be close enough to require Rivera’s appearance on the mound. So his injured body might not be taxed. Taking away the Rivera option has surely diminished the American Leagues’, and thereby the Yankees’, margin for success, next week and in three months.


Woodchuck Invasion: Peering out the kitchen window while cleaning some potatoes for this evening’s dinner, I spotted a woodchuck waddling across our side yard. He stopped to munch on some leafy plants. I raced outside to shoo him away, but he was back a few moments later, only to amble off to our neighbor’s lot.

Perhaps it’s this woodchuck that moved some sizable stones surrounding the bird feeding station in our yard. Yesterday I noticed several stones had been overturned. The birds didn’t do it. I have my doubts the coyotes we’ve been reading about did it. I thought maybe a raccoon, but upon seeing the woodchuck I have a new suspect.

No doubt Gilda will demand immediate repulsive action (that’s repulsive as in keeping it away, not as in doing anything repugnant). The woodchuck control web site lists several remedies, each one bullet-pointed with the paw of a woodchuck (cute, yes? Not really, when one considers the reason why one has landed on this web page).

Speaking of bullets, that’s one suggestion, though not one I would consider. Trapping is another option my ancestors might have employed. Engaging a professional pest controller is a little too much for now. The most appropriate remedy might be using a repellant with predator odors, such as coyote urine. Hopefully, those odors won’t attract real coyotes. I’ve emailed “ask-the-peeman” for an answer.


Frisbee Update: Dan’s team has won all its games so far at the World Ultimate Frisbee Championships. Only one more contest Thursday before the playoff round begins Friday.

Recognizing Perfection

It’s in the “best interests of baseball” for Commissioner Bud Selig to declare last nights’ effort by Detroit pitcher Armando Galarraga “a perfect game.” He should do so quickly and unequivocally.

For those unaware of the circumstances, a perfect game is when a pitcher retires 27 consecutive outs over nine innings, not allowing any batter to reach base through a hit, a walk, an error or by being hit by a pitch. Twenty-seven up, 27 down. In baseball history, it’s happened just 20 times in 135 years, though interestingly twice already this season. With the help of his fielders, especially centerfielder Austin Jackson who made a sensational catch in the 9th and last inning to preserve the perfect game opportunity, Galarraga stood on the threshold of baseball history. With just one more out to go for a 3-0 victory over the Cleveland Indians, he induced a ground ball from Jason Donald. It was a tough play. Hit between the first and second basemen, the ball was picked up by first baseman Miguel Cabrera. He threw to first base where Galarraga caught what he thought was the final out of his masterpiece, a moment before Donald touched the base. His celebration was cut short by umpire Jim Joyce’s signal that Donald had beaten the throw, that he was safe. Galarraga was stunned, but kept his composure enough to get the next batter, Trevor Crowe, to ground out to end the game, now officially recorded as a one-hitter. After the game Joyce viewed a replay of the call and admitted he made a mistake. It should have been a perfect game.

Of course there’s no precedent for Selig to change the call to award perfect game status. That’s what setting a precedent means. It’s a first-time event, and this incident has all the variables in the exact, perfect position so that it will not become a constant reference point. Because it should have been the last out of the game, and the next batter made out, the flow of the game was not changed. Every batter got up in the exact inning and spot he would have throughout the game. That would not have happened had the blown call occurred in, say, the fifth inning. By happening to the 27th batter, who should have been the last batter, the mistake is reversible with little consequence. The only changes required would be denying a hit to Donald and removing a failed at bat from Crowe’s career statistics.

Selig used his commissioner’s powers a few years ago to stop an all-star game. Now he needs to use those same powers to right a grievous wrong that can have economic fallout for Galarraga. No doubt the pitcher will receive publicity and some reward for his performance. But it no doubt will be less than he’d have received from having pitched a perfect game.

Even with two other perfect games this season, perfection on the diamond is rarely observed. It should not be denied because another person, an umpire in plain sight of millions, maybe even billions watching video replays, was less than perfect (here’s a link if you haven’t seen it: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/06/02/armando-galarraga-perfect_n_598626.html).

Justice and fair play demand swift and immediate action by Selig, if for no other reason than 20 years from now it will make a fun trivia question—who was the only pitcher to record 28 outs in a perfect game? Or, alternatively, who made the 28th out in a perfect game? Either way, it's a perfect question.