Recently in Baseball Category

The 2008 Seattle Mariners TV commercials are available at MLB.com and are discussed here and here.

My favorite is "Fullness and Sheen."

A postscript to AfternoonAtSafecoField.

You need to understand that concessions at major league ballparks have evolved over the 30 or so years that I've been attending games. When I was a youth, Tiger Stadium offered its fans a choice of mustard or no mustard on their hot dog, and that was about it. Your soft beverage choice was Pepsi, and your beer was Budweiser. I remember they later introduced the hot pretzel ... with "hot" being an outright lie, and "pretzel" referring to a twisted brown inner tube loaded with enough kosher salt to choke a rabbi.

Now, it's almost embarrassing to stroll around under the stands and see Thai restaurants and sushi stands (Ichi-roll, anyone?). I don't think I saw an actual hot dog or bag of Cracker Jacks in the place.

Caving in to this cornucopia of concessions, I steered Ray to one of the Ivar's Seafood stands for a salmon sandwich and some French fries (not the famous Safeco garlic fries -- those things can kill you).

The guy in line ahead of us ordered "fried scallops," but was informed by the cashier that they didn't have scallops. She helpfully offered clams or shrimp instead.

"No scallops?" the guy indignantly retorted. "What kind of Ivar's is this?"

I felt like tapping him on the shoulder...

"This, sir, is an Ivar's at a fucking baseball stadium! They serve thousands people within a three-hour period and, thus, probably felt the need to streamline their menu a bit. They also don't have table service, porcelain dishes, silverware, a wine list, or a dessert menu. You should feel lucky they have clams and shrimp, you fucking whiner!"

But, you know, Ray was with me, so I held myself back.

Today was Day 4 of DaddyWeekend and a trip to Safeco Field to see the Detroit Tigers. Oh, and the Seattle Mariners.

The other day, Amy helpfully suggested that I might want to steer Ray's baseball fandom toward his actual hometown team. After all, she pointed out, I'm a Tiger fan merely because of where I grew up; Ray should be a fan of the team that plays where he grows up.

Setting her blaspheming advice aside for a moment, I'll relate a bit about our experience at the old (well, newish) ballpark today (and note that the Central Division-leading Tigers battered the Mariners 11-7).

First of all, Ray looked cheek-squeezlingly cute in his oversized Tiger cap.

(Click to enlarge)

We had some really good seats, courtesy of the Mariners Ticket Exchange, where season ticket holders put their seats up for sale if they can't make the game.

And Ray was able to follow his favorite player, Magglio Ordoñez (who clocked a two-run homer in the eighth inning), way out in right field.

Ray also scored a warm-up ball courtesy of tomorrow's starting pitcher, Nate Robertson, and Andrew Miller'sautograph.

Back to Amy's comment: I did try to keep things even-handed during the game, and led Ray in cheering for both Mariners and Tigers where appropriate. It was not my fault that the Tigers generated more cheer-inducing activity than the Mariners (Granderson's three-hit performance, Sheffield's steal of home, Thames' three-run blast). I extolled the virtues of Ichiro (who really is awesome), and tried to find good things to say about Raul Ibañez (he hit over .300 a few years ago!), and Adrian Beltre (he almost has a .500 slugging percentage!). But I drew the line at whiny-ass Jeff Weaver on the mound. I just can't stand that guy.

I recently helped a friend and fellow blogger deal with a lingering Google cache issue. The search behemoth still listed a page from her blog that she thought she had deleted, but had merely "delinked." Even if she removed the page now, I warned, the cached version would still be available unless she contacted Google and asked them to remove it (Note: Google's page for webmasters describes how you can do this).

This reminded me of a similar incident I dealt with a couple years ago.

When I played baseball for the Madtown M's, the manager used to follow up each game by writing an amusing recap on the team's web site (a graphic-less archive of which can be found here). The recaps were all written in an over-the-top sportswritery style complete with tortured nicknames for the players, egregious verbing, and wild exaggerations of our on-the-field accomplishments.

After one of our games, a number of team members announced that they were heading to a nearby Hooter's restaurant for some post-game festivities. The manager derided them in his next recap by writing a fictional account of how they were arrested for disorderly conduct after mashing on one of the waitresses.

Two years later, one of the team members implicated in this fictional scandal contacted me in a panic. He had been applying for jobs at law firms and one of his potential employers found the humorous piece during a routine background check (read: Google search). Taken out of context, it was difficult to determine that the piece was satirical on its face. He was able to convince them that it was a joke, but he worried (understandably) that other employers might not be so forgiving.

I promptly removed the offending section from the page and contacted Google to remove it from the cache. I'm happy to report that it was gone within a couple days.

There’s little joy in Detroit these days. The Pistons seized up in the NBA finals, the Red Wings flew out of the Stanley Cup Finals, and Forbes magazine recently listed My Fair Birthplace dead last in the country in terms of metropolitan housing markets (Seattle, I will note, was first).

But Justin Verlander pitched a no-hitter at Comerica Park last night and the Tigers entered into a tie for first place in the AL Central.

There is some hope left in Motown after all.

I remember watching the last no-hitter thrown by a Tiger — Jack Morris’ gem back in 1984. That was the first and only no-hitter I’ve ever seen personally. I’ve always wanted to see a perfect game — the mere thought of which causes me to choke up as I try to imagine what it must be like for someone to accomplish the absolute pinnacle of achievement in one’s profession.

Think about it: there are very few jobs in which “perfection” is a definable metric. Even in sports, there’s, what, baseball and bowling where the concept “perfect” makes any sense. There have only been fifteen perfect games in the modern era of baseball, which makes it a much rarer feat than a perfect game in bowling, in which a 300 game has become somewhat commonplace.

You must, therefore, understand how excited I was when I first heard about the movie For the Love of the Game. Kevin Costner (not my favorite actor) plays a Detroit Tiger who throws a perfect game. While he’s on the mound, the story flashes back to cover his entire career and personal life. Man! A movie about a perfect game pitched by a (fictional) Detroit Tiger! And directed by Sam “Army of Darkness” Raimi!! What could be more awesome?!?!

I dragged a protesting friend to see this movie when it hit theaters back in 1999. To his credit, he didn’t say much during the show. Afterwards, he observed “Well, that’s two hours of my life I’m never getting back.”

I had to reluctantly agree. The film was godawful. Avoid it at all costs. Just thinking about it now makes my brain hurt.

But, Go Tigers!

Alyssa Milano has never been very high on my celebrity crush list, but when I learned that she has a blog devoted to her love of baseball, I have to admit that she moved up a few notches.

I can even forgive her inexplicable love of the Dodgers for this statement:

You may think the Cardinals won The World Series while I think the Tigers lost The World Series.

Blue Jays 4; Tigers 3 (Sad)

Mariners 4; A's 0 (Happy!)

Kenny Rogers: blood clot in shoulder, out for three months (Sad)

Felix Hernandez: 12 strikeouts, complete game shutout (Happy!)

The Tigers won the first of a four-game set against their closet AL Central rivals, the Minnesota Twins, last night. To say they needed to win the game is an understatement. The Twins have surged in the second half as the White Sox have started curling up. They have emerged as the Tigers' biggest threat.

I wish I could say that the Tigers restored some of my confidence last night. After going 9-19 over the last month, it certainly was nice to see them on top again, and the 7-2 score makes it look as if they achieved the win in a masterful fashion. But as I look at the box score, I see some significant warning signs.

The Tigers were one strike away from dropping a double header to the Yankees today. A couple of walks and a Craig Monroe homer in the ninth put them up 5-3 in the second game; a three-up-three-out relief performance by Todd Jones and his enormous mustache earned him his 35th save.

What is it about relief pitchers and mustaches? The most famous baseball mustache belongs to relief artist Rollie Fingers. The great Tiger reliever of the 1970's, John Hiller, wore a big handlebar. 1984's Cy Young and MVP award-winner, Willie Hernandez, sported facial hair on his upper lip. As did Goose Gossage for most of his career. Dan Quisenberry. Bruce Sutter. Dennis Eckersley. What could it be?

A side note on preparing this post: When I was a little kid (6 or 7) and collected baseball cards, I used to sort them according to various criteria. One common distinction I made was between players older and younger than my dad. According to the Tiger's web site, only three of the men on the Tigers' 40-man roster are older then me. By the time he's old enough to collect baseball cards, Ray probably won't be able to divide them up the way I used to.

As of tonight, the Detroit Tigers (76-36) have 50 games left to play in the regular season.

If the Tigers only win half of their upcoming games, and the White Sox and Twins each win two-thirds of theirs, the Tigers will still end up one game ahead of the AL Central with a 101-61 record.

If the Tigers win only one-third of their remaining games, and the Sox and Twins each go 25-25, the Tigers end up on top again by one game with a 93-69 record.

If they stay on the same second-half pace (17-7, or .708) they will tie the regular season win record of 116 games (Cubs in 1906; Mariners in 2001).

They need to win 29 of the last 50 (or .580) to set a team record of 105 wins (breaking 1984's 104-win record).

And now back to doing something useful....

I was "watching" yesterday's Tigers game against the Twins via MLB's online game stats service (the modern version of the sports ticker). Pitcher Jeremy Bronderman was almost perfect through 7 innings and the Tigers were rolling to a 4-0 win and a series sweep in the Metrodome. I clicked the window closed as the game entered the bottom of the eighth (Ray had woken up from his nap). Later on, I summoned the result to my cell phone via SMS and was stunned when my tiny screen read "Minnesota: 6; Detroit 4." What the hell had happened?!?!

In Moneyball, Oakland A's General Manager Billy Beane reported that he doesn't like recruiting high school pitchers. In a chat session with readers of Baseball Prospectus, he explains:

We also try and minimize economic and health risk by drafting college pitchers. We also feel that because they are older and more experienced, college pitchers have a tendency to give you better early results when they enter the Major Leagues.

I asked someone recently if she liked baseball. She said she'd been to a game once but found it really boring. Her friends assured her, however, that it was an exception and that games are usually more exciting.

I told her they were wrong.

Today begins a three-day weekend series between my beloved Detroit Tigers and my new hometown team the Seattle Mariners. Ah, the conflict of loyalties....

And I've got my ticket for Saturday's game!

We went to a Tigers-Mariners game a couple years ago, and I found myself falling right back in to root for the Tigers. This year, I'm ramping it up a bit and will actually don my Tigers' cap. I think I'll avoid the face paint and stuffed tiger tail this time.

Unfortunately, Amy and Ray won't be joining me. Ray's asleep by 7:00, which rules out evening games. Even with a babysitter, it's difficult for us to get to anything before 7:30 or 8:00. Sunday's game is at 1:00, which just happens to be during his naptime (when he takes a nap, that is).

This will be my first game of the year, and I'm looking forward to a nice, traditional evening of baseball with a cup of organic microbrew beer in one hand and fresh sushi in the other!

Go Tigers!

The Detroit Tigers continue to kick some Major League ass, but my mother reports that Detroiters are tentative with their excitement. It's not like it was back in 1984 when the town roared with Tiger fever and the "Bless You Boys" slogan was plastered everywhere you looked. I'll admit to also being cautiously optimistic from my remote Tiger Den here in Seattle (where the Mariners are suddenly winning baseball games, too! What's up with that?!)

Detroiters have seen so many promised "renaissances," "urban renewals," and "empowerment zones" evaporate over the last two decades that I can't blame them for not getting their hopes up about having a championship baseball team in their midst.

Living in Detroit is what I imagine it's like to live with an abusive spouse. At first, you're attracted to their raw grittiness and "bad boy" (or girl) attitude. There are hints of their true nature but you're too caught up in the emotion to notice. Then they put the smack down on you and reality starts to set in. But they seem to feel really bad about it, and they apologize, and it's really just that they love you so much they can't help it, and they promise to get help, and they swear to you that they'll never hit you again. Until the next time.

It's nice to see that the Tigers are making good progress, but the bruises still hurt and we're not trusting them just yet.

Now maybe if you show me a (World Series) ring on that finger, I'll believe you!