Tony Jarboe, now a Junior at Northwestern University, continues to excell as an Artificial Turf sports columnist. Here are some of his previous columns. Check out Jarboe's Jabs 2,3,4 and 5 for some more, classic articles.

If It Ain’t Broke, Don’t Fix It…(12-27-08)
$423.5 million is a lot of money. It can buy 423,500,000 cheeseburgers from Micky D’s. Or 42.35 billion pieces of penny bubblegum (although you might want to save some for the dentist). If you have more distinguished tastes, you can buy more than 1 million pounds of shark fins for shark-fin soup. Or it can buy you three free agents.
The New York Yankees set the baseball world (and sports columnists) abuzz by spending $423.5 million to buy both the best hitter and pitcher on the free agent market, plus another very good pitcher in A.J. Burnett.
This spending spree has renewed cries for a salary cap. The system is broken! After all, how can a team like the Florida Marlins (2008 payroll- $22 million) compete with teams like the Yankees (2008 payroll- $207 million)?
Yes, money gives you an advantage. Five of the top ten teams in payroll made the playoffs. But the top three, the Yankees, Mets, and Detroit, all missed out. So the advantage you get from money can be overcome. After all, the Seattle Mariners spent nearly $117 million to lose 101 games and finish almost 40 games out of first place. So it’s not just about money- it’s about money spent wisely.
Just like any other business, good management is the key. Teams like the Oakland A’s and Minnesota Twins routinely made the post-season with payrolls near the bottom. Last year, Tampa Bay spent a “mere” $43 million (29^th, ahead of only Florida) and ended up in the World Series.
People seem to think a salary cap is a panacea for teams like Pittsburgh, Kansas City, and Washington: teams that routinely finish near the bottom in both payroll and standings. These folks won’t be happy until every team finishes 81-81 and wins the World Series. Wouldn’t that be fun?
Yes, baseball should get a salary cap so it can be like the NFL, where every team has a chance to win on any given Sunday (right, Detroit Lions?) Major League Baseball already has more parity than it’s football counterpart. The last nine years have produced eight different World Champions while the NFL is one miracle catch away from having one team take four of the past eight Super Bowls. On the other end of things, yes, Kansas CIty, Pittsburgh, and Washington have a reserved spot in the cellar of their respective divisions. But they are downright dominant compared to this year’s Detroit Lions (0-15 so far) or last year’s Miami Dolphins (1-15).
And just because owners can only spend a certain amount of money doesn’t mean they have to spend that much. $70 million separates Oakland from Kansas City. Apparently $70 million buys two wins, because that’s how far Oakland is ahead of the Chiefs (man, $70 million just doesn’t go as far as it used to). But again, low payrol doesn’t necessarily mean being uncompetitive. How about the Indianapolis Colts, cruising towards a first round bye? 29^th in the NFL in payroll. New England, with a little help, can reach the post-season with the 30^th ranked payroll.
Yes, money is nice. It makes winning easier. But, just as in life, money doesn’t guarantee happiness. Strong management can overcome such obstacles, just as inept management can overcome a high payroll to produce a bottom-feeder. So please, no more cries about the system being broken or baseball’s need for a salary cap. All that would do is knock down the top few teams while doing nothing to raise the cellar-dwellers. Besides, I kind of enjoy seeing how much money Seattle can manage to bungle.

 

LIES, DAMN LIES AND THE MEDIA…(12-21-08)
I may have found the reason my luck with the ladies seems to be a little lacking. A recent survey found that, of 5,500 people across seven countries (including the US), only 2 percent of respondents were media members as partner material. What’s worse, journalists were the least trusted profession across all seven countries. Even worse than lawyers and BCS selection committees! That’s a problem.
This is especially ironic because for the past two years it has been drilled into my head just how “noble” a profession journalism is. We are the government watchdogs and the voice for the voiceless. It is our job, like Woodward and Bernstein (the guys who uncovered the Watergate Scandal) to always be on the lookout for evildoers. And now it turns out people see the media themselves as the “evildoers”.
I suppose I should be defending journalists at this point, complaining that the public has it all wrong and yadda yadda. What I’m guessing, however, isn’t so much that people distrust all media. Rather, they distrust certain members of the media.
Take this year’s election. If you’re conservative and you hear MSNBC constantly bashing on Sarah Palin, of course you aren’t going to trust them. Same if you are a liberal listening to Rush Limbaugh. So we aren’t seeing people hating all media. Rather, it’s just certain segments that they believe to be untrustworthy.
The problem, though, is that this polarization is getting worse. With most news easily accessible on the internet, people have little incentive to watch the news on TV any more. So many media pundits feel they have to be outlandishly biased in order to get people to watch. Sure, it works for some people, but it just ticks most folks off. But in the end, I don’t think (or at least I hope) that people don’t necessarily distrust the media as a whole, just parts of it.
So, no, I’m not going to switch my major just because a survey found my intended profession isn’t marriage material. But I had better get used to being single. 

 

 

PUTTING THE “BS” IN BCS…(12-14-08)
Let’s say you’re the fan of a small, private school who’s football team happened to have a good year. We’ll call this hypothetical team “Worthnestern”. They went 9-3 in a major conference, with two of those three losses coming to ranked opponents. They finished the year ranked 22^nd in the BCS standings and appeared headed to a major bowl.
But then lets say that the bowl committee snubs your team for another, inferior team whom we will hypothetically call “Spawn of Satan”. Now, Spawn finished the year 8-4 and unranked. The real kicker, however, is that your team went to Spawn and beat them on their home field. There is no question that your team is MUCH better than Spawn of Satan. And yet they got picked ahead of you for a major bowl? Why?
Sure, the nine wins and the shiny ranking look nice, but the bowl committee is only concerned with: 20,907. That’s the number of students that go to Spawn, compared to only 8,000 and Worthnestern. That means Spawn of Satan has a lot more fans out there that could potentially go to the game, which means higher TV ratings and more moolah. So your team got passed over by an inferior squad all because of money. Wouldn’t you hypothetically be outraged?
This year Northwestern was passed over for the Outback Bowl (a fairly prestigious New Year’s Day bowl) in favor of an Iowa team with a worse record, no ranking, and whom Northwestern beat in Iowa. This is because Iowa fans have a reputation for following their team wherever they go for a bowl game, and the Outback Bowl committee thought they would attract more fans by selecting Iowa than Northwestern. This pick ends any remaining shred of the charade that the bowl season was ever anything more than a money-making machine for college football. How you did that year is secondary to how many fans the bowl committee thinks you will attract.
Up until this year I have been a fan of the bowl system. It rewards teams who have a good year by allowing them a postseason birth and one last chance to play a really meaningful game. And in the BCS, only the top two teams have a shot at the national championship. This means no inferior team is going to just sneak into the playoff, get hot at the right time, and be crowned champion. Every week of the season is essentially a playoff because just one loss usually excludes you from a chance at the ultimate prize. I liked to think it was because of this weekly drama that college football kept the bowl system. But who am I kidding? It’s all about the money.
While most sports are trying to create more parity among their teams, college football is creating more disparity. Think about it. If a star college athlete is trying to choose between, say, Northwestern and Ohio State (hey, this is MY example, I get to choose the schools). All else being equal, Ohio State will always go to the more prestigious bowl game because their fans are renowned for traveling well, while Northwestern’s aren’t. There is an extreme incentive for the top athletes to go to powerhouses like Ohio State, Texas, USC, or Florida because those schools always attract the top-notch bowl bids. Smaller schools like Northwestern simply have no shot.
Would it kill college football to implement some sort of slotting system for their bowl games? The way it currently works is the bowls are ranked in order of prestige. For example, in the Big Ten, BCS bowl games have the first shot at which teams they want to take. Of the remaining teams, the Capital One Bowl has the first pick, then the Outback Bowl, and so on. The NCAA needs to get rid of this “drafting” system. If you were the third best team in the Big Ten, you go to the Capital One Bowl, period. No more getting to choose based on anticipated revenue. The athletes don’t play for money (well, most don’t). The least you can do is pretend that bowl games aren’t all about the money. Besides, you won’t go broke if you end up with a school like Northwestern. I promise.
The current drafting system by college bowl committees does a serious disservice to the athletes and fans that the committees purportedly aim to please. It creates a strong disparity between the haves and have-nots while eliminating any notion that bowl games are about anything other than money. It just makes the NCAA look worse and ticks off fans of smaller schools everywhere. Especially fans with internet columns who can write nasty things about them on sports websites.

 

*Editors Note: I later realized that by calling Iowa the “Spawn of Satan”, I came off as rather bitter towards them for leapfrogging us for the better bowl. So for any Hawkeye fans out there, don’t worry, I’m not ticked off at you. It’s not your fault you’re almost three times as big as we are. My wrath is more directed towards the Outback Bowl committee for choosing you. I just couldn’t find anything good that rhymes with “Iowa”. 

 

 

THE EVERYMAN…(12-7-08)
The retirement of Greg Maddux, one of the great pitchers in baseball history, was a tough pill to swallow. Why? Because in a way, I am Greg Maddux. And so are you.
Greg Maddux was an everyman. When you think of great athletes, guys like Shaquille O’Neal and Randy Johnson come to mind. Guys who tower over their respective sports, both literally and figuratively. They use their God-given talents to dominate the weak in a spectacular fashion. And we have no hope of ever coming close to doing what they do.
But Greg Maddux is a different story. At 5’ 10” the only thing he towered over was the water cooler, and he didn’t possess anything resembling a dominating fastball. At times it was almost like one of the hot dog vendors won a contest to be a Major Leaguer for a day.
This is not an ode to Maddux. I’ll leave that to other writers to go more in-depth on his great career, his prolific baseball IQ, etc. To me, Maddux’s retirement gave me pause because of the type of player that he represents rather than the man himself.
Everyman players have already virtually disappeared from basketball and football and are on their way out of baseball. The average baseball player is 6’ 2” while the average American in only 5’ 10”. And the difference continues to grow.
Yes, baseball still has guys like Jamie Moyer, who’s fastball doesn’t hit the speed limit, and David Eckstein, all 5’ 7” of him. But these guys are increasingly becoming the exception.
And this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. After all, we expect professional athletes to be the very best at what they do and as a general rule, bigger is better.
But it also makes it tougher for fans to connect with these athletes on a personal level. Watching Greg Maddux, you feel like he could be your neighbor. You could sit down and have a beer with him. He just happens to work as a baseball player and make a few million schilings doing it. A guy like that is much easier to root for than, say, the aforementioned Johnson, who’s 6’ 10” frame is a foot taller than the average guy. Toss in the fact that he has (well, had) a 97 MPH fastball and he’s not exactly the type of guy you can easily pull for. I can envision myself being Greg Maddux. But I don’t see myself growing another foot overnight and adding 20 MPH to my fastball.
The retirement of Greg Maddux and the dearth of “ordinary” players merely points out the growing chasm between fans and players. Professional athletes continue to become more distant from everyday life as they grow larger and larger and continue to rake in many millions of dollars. Again, I’m not ripping athletes. It’s simply the way things are.
Even so, I’m going to miss Greg Maddux.

 

NO CABLE? OUTTA LUCK!...(11-29-08)
The announcement that the college Bowl Championship Series was moving to ESPN marked another milestone in the disturbing exodus of major sporting events from broadcast to cable television. This trend started in the 1980s when TBS broadcast certain NBA playoff games, but this will mark the first time a major sport’s championship game is aired on cable television.
I am among the 14 percent of households that don’t have cable (some 98 million US homes have cable TV). So while it’s not a huge percentage, that’s still some 40 million potential customers college football is losing by switching from broadcast TV to cable.
Now, understand this is not a criticism of ESPN or some rant against college football and the corporate greed that goes on. Of course it’s about the money. It’s always been about the money. The problem, here, is that college football is looking at the short-term rather than long-term, and the future implications of the BCS’s movement to ESPN.
I don’t know exactly how much ESPN paid for the right to broadcast the BCS games, but I’m guessing there are quite a few zeroes at the end of the figure. They outbid FOX and every other television carrier for the right to broadcast the games. And it is completely within the NCAA’s rights to accept the highest bid. But it shouldn’t always automatically accept the highest bid.
Of course 86 percent of the households in the US is pretty good, but the NCAA is still shutting out 40 million potential customers from their championship games by jumping to cable TV. That’s a lot of people, and a lot of potential revenue lost.
A championship is supposed to be the crown jewel of the season. It is the most exclusive of events, matching only the two best teams of your sport. This is your sport at it’s best. The championship is the best chance to sell your sport to everyone, and thus you need to expose your sport as widely as possible. So shutting out 40 million customers is not exactly the wisest course of action.
Not only do you lose the 40 million potential viewers, but by shutting them out of your marquee event, you risk alienating them and losing them as fans. After all, why follow a team who, even if they made the championship, they couldn’t watch? Further, you don’t get young fans interested, and that is really the lifeblood of any sport. Young fans mean revenue for the next sixty years, plus their posterity. That is a lot of long-term revenue lost for a few extra million now.
What’s more disturbing, though, is the implication of this move. College is the first major sport to move their championship to cable TV, but I’m guessing they won’t be the last. Sure, TBS had been broadcasting a few early-round NBA playoff games since before I was born, and they recently added some of the baseball playoffs, but never before has the championship been unavailable on broadcast TV.
I don’t anticipate all six championships (NFL, MLB, NBA, NHL, college football, and college basketball) moving to cable any time soon. The Super Bowl will stay on broadcast TV through at least 2012, while the World Series remains on FOX through 2013. The NBA will stay on ABC for the next 8 years and CBS has NCAA basketball through 2014. Versus did broadcast a few games of the NHL finals, but I think that speaks more to the desperate straits hockey is in that they must resort to networks like “Versus” and “Outdoor Life Network”. Ouch.
But what happens when those contracts expire in the middle of the next decade? TBS will probably make a play for the World Series and maybe the NBA finals, while ESPN would certainly love to add the Super Bowl to it’s lineup. So by 2020 we could see several championships on cable television.
What would this mean for the future? Well, again it means lost revenue among homes without cable television and increasing indifference. But then, this is a trend that’s been going on for sometime. After all, new sports stadiums have been pushing the common fan further from the action while allowing corporate suits the good seats and modern amenities. It simply means fans can’t follow their teams as closely as they would like.
Revenue for each of the major sports is as high as it’s ever been, but that’s because they nickel and dime their fans for everything they can. People seem to be growing tired of paying through the nose for everything and I get the feeling that at some point everyday fans will have had enough and start boycotting games. Will moving the championship to cable TV be enough to spark the boycott? Probably not. But it does widen the gap a little more between the common fan and the major sports.

 

TRADITION VERSUS OFFENSIVENESS…(11-22-08)
Today Illinois and Northwestern played for the Sweet Sioux Tomahawk trophy for the last time. The prize, a replica tomahawk in a wooden frame, will be retired as the University of Illinois continues to shed any Native American imagery it has that the NCAA deems “hostile and offensive”. In 2005 the NCAA banned the U of I from hosting any postseason tournaments until it did so.
At the time I wrote a scathing article, blasting the NCAA, U of I Board of Trustees, and political correctness in general. That article was never published because it was written in anger, but I still agree with much of what I wrote.
If the squeaky wheel gets the grease, then the NCAA hands out lubricant by the truckload. Within reason, obviously this isn’t a bad thing. After all, you don’t want to go around ticking everybody off.
Where does it end? How many people need to be offended before you take action? For the NCAA, that threshold seems to be extremely low.
The trophy itself isn’t the issue here, at least for me. After all, Northwestern and Illinois will design a new trophy for next years game, and that will be that. A trophy can be replaced.
But tradition can’t. The Sweet Sioux Tomahawk has been around since 1947. It has become a significant part of the Northwestern-Illinois rivalry. And now it’s gone just like that.
If a tradition is truly offensive, then yes, it should be eliminated. But there needs to be a balance between weighing historical value and how offensive something is. In general, it was just a loud few who protested the Native American names like the Fighting Illini. But the NCAA is on a mission to eliminate anything and everything that anyone anywhere takes offense to.
Part of what makes the NCAA great is the tradition. Anyone who goes to college becomes attached to their alma mater on some level for life. My aunt made the point today that the “I-L-L, I-N-I” cheer by Illini fans was there when she was in school. And that’s the point. These traditions connect generations of fans. People of all ages, races, and backgrounds can come together and have that common bond of goofy fight songs and silly traditions. But the more the NCAA insists on pleasing everybody, the weaker the inter-generational bond.
I’m not saying the NCAA should stop this witch hunt for anything non-politically correct. But I do ask that they at least use common sense when making decisions, and weigh the historical value of tradition versus the number of people who take offense. The way I see it, you haven’t had a full day until you’ve ticked a few people off.

 

GOING TO THE BIG HOUSE…(11-16-08)
Good football teams at Northwestern happen about as frequently as the passing of Halley’s Comet. Including this year, they have won eight games for the sixth time in the last 103 years. So on the rare occasion that we have a good team, you see them as often as you can. You don’t know when that chance will come around again.
I had a chance to see Northwestern play up in Ann Arbor at Michigan Stadium aka The Big House. Victories for my Wildcats up there are about as rare as eight win seasons, because usually Michigan is very good and Northwestern, well, isn’t. But this year it looked like we might actually beat the Wolverines, so I took a bus trip to Michigan along with about 50 other Northwestern students.
Unfortunately, the game started at noon, meaning the bus had to leave here at 5:30 in the morning. I don’t know about you, but waking up at 5:00 AM does not rank very highly on my “Things I Want to do on Saturday” list. My body grudgingly agreed to wake up, but only because it was for a good cause. So I donned my purple hat, purple sweater, and purple jacket and headed for the bus.
We had been promised breakfast on the trip. What I didn’t know was that “breakfast” consisted of: a) a slice of cinnamon bread, and b) a bottle of Gatorade. The breakfast of champions it wasn’t.
When we pulled into Ann Arbor some five hours later I realized that perhaps I shouldn’t have dressed like a grape. There were around 107,000 football fans around, 106,900 of whom were in maize and blue. I was a slight minority.
We got our tickets and of course my first reaction was to see where we were sitting. Section 9. Ok, not bad, I can handle that. Row 87. Wait, what? 87?! They have that many rows?
 < The Big House...on a nicer day. Much nicer.
Yup, it’s true. Michigan Stadium only has one bowl, but with approximately 95 rows. We were tucked in the corner of one end zone almost at the top of the stadium. Primo seats.
Even better, the wind was blowing right into our faces. As was the sleet. I imagine that we Northwestern students looked like a group of purple penguins as we huddled together, trying to keep warm. Halfway through the first quarter I was already soaked head to toe. Had I been a goldfish I would have been thrilled.
The game was a fairly exciting one, although we were losing by a touchdown at the half. With about a minute to go in the first half everyone bolted to get into the concession area, out of the wind. I’m not sure anyone was left in the actual stadium.
After the half, many people chose to remain there. When I went back out only about three-fourths of the seats were filled, whereas earlier most of the place was packed. Darn fair-weather fans.
Unfortunately the clump of Northwestern students also shrank, making it tougher for us to group together and keep warm. The gusting winds and sleet did not help matters either.
Northwestern did end up winning, and with about a minute left I was able to sneak down to the first row because most Michigan fans had already left (I can’t imagine why). Many other Northwestern fans gathered there and as soon as the game ended the football players all came over, high-fived fans, and we all sang the Northwestern fight song together.
Things got even better. When I got to the concession areas most of the fans had already left, and many hotdogs and boxes of popcorn were left uneaten, so concession stands were giving away food for free. This made the whole trip worth going on (although winning the game was pretty cool too).
The ride back was miserable because everyone was stuck in their soaking coats and pants. When I got back to my dorm room I peeled off my socks and had to actually wring them out before throwing them into the hamper. I took a shower, and I think I actually got drier than I had been. In any event, I was happy to feel my fingers and toes again.
Here I have to give a shout out to Michigan fans. Other than one fan giving us the bird and shouting a very personal remark at us, they were very cordial. They really didn’t boo our players, and they never gave Northwestern fans a hard time. All in all it was a great experience and I would love to go again sometime. On a sunny day. In August. Maybe.



 

iTune You Out …(11-8-08)
You see them everywhere. At the gym, in the library, around the local coffee shops. Just walking down the street you will probably see more people with them than without them.
I’m talking, of course, about musical devices. Mp3 players, iPods, CD players, you name it. Especially in college, you see people everywhere tuning out the world and focusing on whatever they are doing, whether they are exercising, studying, going to class, or just relaxing.
And it’s not necessarily a good thing. People tune in the music and tune out the world. This is one symptom of a society that, for better or worse, has become increasingly individualized.
Take Apple’s recent innovations: iPod, iPhone, iMac, iTunes, etc. Yes, the “I” is just a branding thing, but it carries with it connotations of “me”, as in the product is specialized for each individual. And as the individual is emphasized, people become more concerned with themselves than those around them. And this leads to less interaction in general.
Think about it. How often do you see two strangers strike up a conversation, or one person helping another pick up their things? These things just don’t happen anymore because people are too absorbed in their own activities like listening to music or talking on their cell phones.
This is not to say I am completely against cell phones or music players. But every now and again I would like to see people put these things down and actually interact with someone. Bored? Try talking to someone instead of texting. Want to listen to something? How about paying attention to the sights and sounds around you rather than the latest Rihanna soundtrack.
It isn’t just a matter courtesy. It’s also a matter of safety. I’ve seen students walk out in front of cars while talking on their cell phones and almost get hit. It happens where students with music players get robbed because they didn’t hear anyone coming up on them. And don’t even get me started on people who talk on their cell phones while driving down the highway.
This is one of those “if you put a frog in a boiling pot of water” things. Gradually we have become more accustomed to technology and slowly work our way from the real world to a “Mr. Gadget” life with all the latest toys. And I expect this trend to continue.
I’m not saying the iPod will be responsible the fall of Western Civilization. But I am encouraging people to put down the noisemakers occasionally and engage with the world around them. Help a stranger. Talk to the person next to you. Anything. And if I catch you texting at dinner or talking on your phone while driving, I will smash the darn thing while it’s still attached to your head.

 

THE SELLOUT...(11-2-08)
     I have come to the realization that I will do just about anything if the price is right, up to and including going to Hell and back.  How else do you explain my willingness to help CBS cover Barack Obama’s election night rally in Chicago?
    Me, a staunch conservative Republican, going to an Obama event on election night is about like a mailman attending a pit bull convention.  There will be thousands and thousands of folks there who hate you and everything you stand for.  Even worse, polls indicate their guy has about a 95% chance of winning, which coincidently also happen to be the odds of me looking for a sharp object to slit my wrists with later that evening.  No, I’m not planning on having a very happy night.
    But what about the days leading up to the rally?  I get to work with CBS, right?  Hopefully pick up a few pointers and make a few contacts for down the road?  Not quite.  I am what is officially termed a “runner” which is a polite way of saying “office slave”.  I run and get breakfast, office supplies, and anything else the staff needs.  I also do random jobs like untangling wires, marking lines, and doing generally unskilled work.  Not exactly the glamor side of TV.
    So why am I doing this?  Money.  I’m making $14 an hour to be demeaned and subject myself to what will probably be one of the Top 5 worst nights of my life.
    But I guess that’s part of the college experience:  doing dumb things to make a few extra bucks.  Some guys make their money betting on how many beers they can drink, I make my money by going to the inner circles of my personal Hell.  Looking at it that way, I think the beer guys are smarter.  At least their head only hurts for a little while afterwards.  My head will (probably) hurt for the next four years.
    And to be fair, it has been pretty fun so far.  I’ve gotten to work with some great people.  Plus, there are three other runners so we can commiserate together (although I’m the lone conservative, meaning on Tuesday night I’ll be all alone in my misery).  And the work hasn’t been that hard considering the money I’m making.  Plus, I’m the one shopping for all of the snacks, so I always have plenty of food around.  Still, for some reason spending election night with 70,000 of my closest enemies just doesn’t sound too appealing.

 

 

LOSERS UNITE…(10-19-08)
Hey you! Is a pocket protector a part of your daily attire? Can you fluently speak Klingon? Have you ever dressed up as a character when you go to the movies? In short, are you a loser? If so, rise up my friend! The last shall be first.
How else do you explain this year’s likely World Series matchup of the Tampa Bay Rays and Philadelphia Phillies? Think about it.
This is Tampa Bay’s 11^th season in existence and already they have a special wing in baseball’s Hall of Shame. Before this year, they had never won more than 70 games in a season. In their previous ten seasons they have accumulated one fourth place finish and nine last-place finishes. Nine of ten! The only way they could see first place was with a telescope. Like the Hubble. Tampa Bay’s “winning” percentage before this year was .399, worst among all major-league teams. The only thing spending more time in the cellar was fine wine.
What do Phillies fans have to say about this? “Rookies.”
The Philadelphia Phillies know a thing or two about losing. They hold the record for most consecutive losing seasons with 16 (although, in true Philly fashion, will likely lose that record to the Pirates, who suffered their 16^th consecutive losing season this year with little hope of improvement in the near future).
The Phillie’s .468 winning percentage is worst among the original 16 teams. Last season they “celebrated” their 10,000th loss, the first franchise ever to do so (hey, at least the were first at something). In baseball history, 23 teams have had winning percentages lower than .300 (min. 140 games played). The Phillies have nine of those, in addition to five other 100-loss seasons. Basically, the time Philadelphia wasn’t bad was when it was awful. In 125 years of existence, they have won four pennants and one World Series. Yes, Tampa could soon have as many championships as the Phillies despite Philadelphia having a 116-year head start. So although the Rays are off to a pathetic start, they have a long way to go before reaching the consistent ineptitude achieved by the Phillies.
This year’s (probable) World Series shows that yes, just about anything is possible. Mr. Pocket Protector, you too can get the girl. Mr. Fluent Klingon Speaker, your love life still has hope. Losers of the world, unite!

 

 

HERE'S A TIP...(10-12-08)
On the shuttle to the Northwestern football game today the driver had a box with a sign that said “Thanks for Tips” taped to it. This was so wrong for so many reasons.
A tip is supposed to be given only in extraordinary circumstances, for going well above and beyond the call of duty. Why did the driver deserve a tip? For taking me to the game (as he is paid to do)? For not crashing the bus (as he is paid to do)? For not being a jerk to me (as he is paid to do)? What was exceptional about his service?
You see this everywhere. Of course there are the customary tips in sit-down restaurants, but now you will see tips jars at many fast-food places. A tip for what? Not spitting in my burger?
This started as an absolutely brilliant scheme by restaurant owners. They underpay the wait staff so badly that the servers actually depend on tips to make a living. How can they get away with this? Seriously, there is no other business where the owner is allowed to rip off his employees, forcing them to depend on customers to pick up the slack. We have to pay the owner for the burger, and then pay his employees for doing the job that they are supposed to do. Memo to restaurant owners: Pay your employees so your customers don’t have to!
And anyone else asking for tips is just asinine. If you deserve a tip for going the extra mile, you will get it. Coffee baristas, cashiers, taxi drivers, hotel maids, you name it. Don’t try and guilt people into giving you a few extra bucks. You already get paid for doing your job. It’s called your salary.
The worst part is that they get away with it. People will get their change back, see the tips jar, and put a few bucks in it out of shame more than anything. After all, who wants to be seen as a cheapskate?
This proliferation of tip jars actually speaks to a larger trend in this country: people now expect to be rewarded simply for doing their job. A tips box suggests that a gratuity is no longer appreciated, but expected. What is this country coming to? We are now supposed to reward adequacy rather than exceptional service? Our work ethic has dropped so much that doing what you are paid to do is considered above and beyond. Want a tip? Get a job that pays enough so you don’t have to ask for tips.
So restaurant owners, start paying your wait staff, and everyone else, stop asking for undeserved gratuities. Deal? On a side note, something tells me that my next McChicken will include a little extra “sauce” courtesy of my cashier.

  

 

SWEET RELIEF…(10-5-08)
I normally don’t think of myself as a sadistic person. I try to be a
happy person, and I prefer that those around me are happy. When
someone else is sad, I attempt to cheer them up. Usually.
But not Cubs fans. The Cubs just finished laying one of the largest
postseason eggs in recent memory and I couldn’t be happier.
In the postseason, I followed the ’08 Cubs more closely than any team
other than the Cardinals. I watched just about every pitch of every
game, hoping against all hope that the Dodgers somehow, some way could
beat this juggernaut Chicago team.
I usually prefer to root for a team rather than against it, simply
because rooting so hard for a team to fail is usually sign of envy and
bitterness. And in a way, I was envious and bitter towards the ’08
Cubs. Unlike most versions of the team, this one was a legitimate
threat to win the World Series and end the 100-year championship
drought. I didn’t want that to happen.
For one, the Cubs are the Cardinal’s bitter arch-rival. Worse, I’m
deep in the heart of enemy territory. Being in Chicago when the Cubs
won the World Series would be slightly more painful than having
appendicitis, a leg amputated, and open heart surgery simultaneously
while repeatedly getting hit over the head with a crowbar. Without
anesthesia.
In the end I suppose it’s more relief than joy that I’m feeling now
that the Northsiders have been knocked out of post-season play. I
won’t have to be in Chicago while Cubs fans celebrate a championship.
Call it anger. Call it resentment. Call it whatever you like. I’ll
call it a Dodger sweep.

IT'S ALL IN THE NUMBERS...(9-28-08)
If you want to do something completely pointless with your life, college is the place to do it.  Because of distribution requirements, I’ve had to take useless classes like Pre-Columbian Art, Russian Literature, Intro to Fiction, 20^th Century American Literature (I’m not too keen on literature, in case you can’t tell), and Medieval History.  But I found a story that makes Russian Literature look like a beacon of practicality.

FAN-TASTIC BEHAVIOR…(9-21-08)
How should a fan of a baseball team behave at the ballpark? Should
you boo your team when they play poorly? Love your boys
unconditionally? Can you yell and scream all you want, or should you
be more reserved and considerate of those around you?
This was the crux of my argument with Artificial Turf host and Yankee
fan extraordinaire Bill Rogan. He believes fans need to be heard.
When All-Star third baseman Alex Rodriguez strikes out in a key spot,
he feels that Rodriguez needs to be reminded that he failed.
Apparently he isn’t the only Yanks fan that feels this way, because
Rodriguez is now routinely serenaded by the boo birds at Yankee
Stadium. Bill would also tell me stories of his frequent trips to the
ball yard where fans around him would yell obnoxiously for all nine
innings, informing various players that their level of play was
inadequate (Hey Johnson! You suck!).
It’s simply the way of Yankee fans: Be heard. And I have to give
Yankee fans credit for continuing to show up. They lead Major League
Baseball in attendance once again. They are the only team to have 4
million people pass through their turnstiles. Win or lose, they are
always there. They just might not support you if you screw up.
Cardinal fans are quite different. We almost never boo our own
players, and when on the rare occasion it does happen, it’s normally
well deserved. A little different than New York or, say,
Philadelphia, where all you have to do to get booed is have a pulse.
Unlike the more boisterous New York crowd, Cardinal fans are much
more reserved. Busch Stadium is a more family-friendly place, where
seldom is heard a discouraging word. Cards fans have been called “The
Best Fans in Baseball” and they work hard to maintain that title.
Walking into Busch Stadium you get the feeling of “Midwestern
hospitality”. Even opposing fans are treated nicely. Heck, opposing
players will get cheered if they make a nice defensive play.
Intimidation is not a strong suit of Cardinal fans.
The way we see it, there is no reason to boo our guys. If they are
playing poorly, they are already aware of it. They don’t need the
reminder that they are having a tough time. It adds to the pressure
that player is already feeling to perform. They then press more,
which usually leads to even more struggles. But at least the guy
knows he sucks. No, Cards fans love their boys through thick and
thin. We even love the opposition when they do something
spectacular. Cardinal fans just want to see good baseball.
So when should fans boo their guys? Or should they stand behind
their team no matter what? It really just depends on the city. On
the East Coast, especially in places like the Big Apple and Philly,
fans aren’t afraid to voice their opinions. In Midwestern cities like
St. Louis and Kansas City, fans are more quiet and hospitable (of
course, Royals fans are also quiet because they don’t have enough fans
at the ballpark to be loud). And on the West Coast, fans are more
laid back. For example, at Dodger games fans don’t show up until the
third inning. To each their own.

 

DRIVING MISS DAISY…(9-14-08)
I have twin sisters, Monica and Melanie, on the cusp of celebrating their Sweet Sixteenth. As you parents of fifteen year olds know, this is a very, very scary time because it means driving permits (and parents: take that fear you have and double it. That’s what I’m going through)
I seriously think my twin sisters were meant to be one child. Together, they would be the perfect driver: good speed on the straightaways, cautious around turns, always wearing a seatbelt, religiously following the two-second tailgating rule.
Unfortunately, they were born as two and instead of the perfect driver we get the two extremes. Melanie never slows down below 35 miles an hour on turns and drives 80 on the interstate, even with traffic. I’m convinced that by the age of 18 her friends will have worn out two pairs of “Oh s---!” handles (for those of you who don’t know, “oh s---!” handles are the handles above the passenger doors that people hang on to when you take a turn too fast). And for her tailgating is a way of life. She makes the little old lady from Pasadena look like she’s traveling by horse and buggy. I don’t care what race her friends are when they get in the car with her; by the time they get out they will be white.
Monica takes the speed limit literally and will not go above it. She won’t move the car unless everyone in the car is buckled in. And she slows down and flips on her turn signal about a mile before her turn. There is not a driving law that she does not follow to the letter. Forget driving Miss Daisy. This is like riding with her.
So you get the picture. Having these two driving together in a convoy is like mixing gasoline and an open flame: not a good idea, and something is probably going to blow up. And yet on our last trip there we were, Speed Racer following right behind Tammy Tortoise. There were several problems with this: 1) I was actually in the convoy, and thus in some danger of direct bodily harm. 2) Monica was driving my car, meaning it stood a very good chance of getting rear-ended by Melanie.
I decided the best way to handle such extenuating circumstances was to sleep through it because if we crashed, my car was going down, and me along with it. I didn’t care to see the end for both of us.
From what little I did see, I think I made the right choice. I was riding with Melanie, so I got to watch as we constantly got about two feet from the back bumper of my car before my mom would tell her to slow down. Then we’d back off briefly before speeding right back on to Monica’s tail again. And it didn’t help that Monica kept hitting the brakes. Keep in mind we were on an interstate highway in the middle of Nebraska. Nebraska! There is nothing anywhere in sight. And yet Monica kept hitting the brakes once she hit 71 miles per hour (my dad made her drive at least 70 to somewhat appease Melanie). Watching from the second vehicle, my car looked like a window during Christmas with all the blinking red lights.
The thing is, this is my parent’s first time really going through this as well. Yes, both me and my younger brother, Darren, had to go through a similar process when we got our licenses, but growing up on the farm we had been driving for years already. Turning 16 just made it legal. But by the time we got our permits we already had some experience, knew the rules, etc. Sure, every now and then I’d take a turn too fast or make a minor gaffe, but in general it was smooth sailing.
Not so with my sisters. When the girls first got their permits, I was talking to Darren when he said, “Now I know where all those teenage driving stereotypes come from. THEY’RE TRUE!” Of course at the time I thought he was joking. After all, how hard is it to drive? Besides, making fun of new drivers is a right of passage. It happens to all of us. I had no idea how right Darren was.
So both of my sisters got in about three hours of driving, which basically consisted of my mom telling Melanie “Slow down!” and “Leave more space!” and my sister arguing “There is space!” Technically, she was right. She always left space between ours and Monica’s. It’s just sometimes I’m not sure Kate Moss turned sideways could have fit between them. When you’re going 70 miles per hour, that’s not a good thing.
When we stopped for lunch I leapt out of the vehicle and kissed the ground numerous times, followed by me vigorously hugging my car, thrilled that both of us were still in one piece. On the bright side, my heart was beating about four times the normal rate, meaning I got my cardiovascular workout in for the day.
I have to lend out my car to one of my sisters to use for the next few years while I’m at college, so I bestowed it on to Monica. She is very cautious, and the chances of her wrecking are very slim. Even if she hits something, I doubt she’ll be going fast enough to damage anything. As long as Melanie isn’t right behind her.
   
EXPERIENCE GAINED...(9-5-08)
        I had the chance to cover the Democratic National Convention last week.  Obviously it was a great experience for me.  I was so excited about this very rare opportunity.  

 

 < "What convention? Go Broncos!"

 

 

A VIEW ON ROIDS…(8-17-08)
Contrary to popular belief, steroids have not ruined baseball.
People look at suspected steroid users like Barry Bonds, Sammy Sosa,
and Mark McGwire, get up on their soap box, and loudly proclaim “You
were WRONG!” It is this suspicion of steroid use that will keep them
out of the Hall of Fame for years to come.
Now, I am not arguing that those guys did not use steroids. All
three probably did. Most likely, so did guys like Roger Clemens and
Rafael Palmiero. The issue is not who took what, where, and when.
The issue is whether or not steroids provide a substantial advantage,
one that would warrant steroid users being left out of the Hall.
If, say, Barry Bonds were the only player taking steroids when he
broke the career home run record, then no, he should not be recognized
as the all-time leader and he should be kicked out of baseball. But
looking at the lists of admitted steroid users, implicated players,
and suspected players, it is not so much a “Who’s who” as it is a
“Who’s that?” Many players have come under suspicion for a myriad of
reasons, from a significantly altered physical appearance to receipts
of purchased performance enhancers. Heck, if Jose Canseco mentions
you in his book your name is done. After the fallout from his first
book, Canseco’s word is taken pretty much as gospel.
Many estimates suggest over half of major league players took some
performance-enhancing drugs at some point, whether it be steroids,
human growth hormone (HGH), or something else altogether. Heck, many
guys who never even made the big leagues (or only got to enjoy a cup
of coffee while up) have been caught. Do you know what Jorge Piedra,
Agustin Montero, Jamal strong, and Yusaku Iriki have in common (aside
from the fact that you have never heard of them)? All have failed an
MLB drug test. In other words, it is not just the big stars taking
supplements, but also the little guys just trying to hang in there.
Without performance enhancers, they probably never even make the major
leagues. But with so many fringe players taking these performance-
enhancers, it shows just how prevalent drug use was. It also shows
that steroids can help give you an edge, but they don’t create
superstars.
The main benefit of steroids is that they allow you to recover more
quickly from workouts and injuries, meaning you can work out harder
and more often than you could otherwise. So basically we are
denouncing these cheaters for working harder.
One thing that is known, however, is that steroids are dangerous.
They help you in the short term, but destroy your body in the long
run. And the effects are worse on young high-school and college-age
kids who take steroids to try and gain an advantage over their
opponents. They see major leaguers taking this stuff and want the
glory that comes with it. They don’t think long-term.
It is for this reason alone that I am in favor of banning steroids.
Aside from the damaging effects to the body, it is just another
medical advancement. Take a look at the Olympics, for example. Michael Phelps has won eight gold medals and set seven
world records. Seven! Think about it: there are some 6.8 billion
people in the world, and Phelps is faster than all of them, not to
mention faster than all of the many billions of people that have
already lived. Amazing, right?
There is no doubt that what Michael Phelps is doing is tremendous.
But it seems like every Olympics we see world records get set left and
right. Why?
Better training, better nutrition, better technology. Swimmers are
now using new Speedo suits and just about every record in the water
has been broken in Beijing. These new suits shave precious tenths of
a second from times, allowing new records to be set. And yet no one
has said a peep about these “performance-enhancers”. Isn’t that what
they essentially are? And the same with the track runners. Usain
Bolt is the fastest runner to ever live, also seemingly setting world
records by the day. But isn’t it a little suspicious that ALL of the
greatest athletes who ever lived happen to live right now? And in
four years we will do it all over again.
It would be asinine to think the same thing is not going on in
baseball. We simply don’t see the effects nearly as much because
baseball is a zero-sum game. In swimming, it is the athlete versus
the pool. You could put a swimmer from 1930 in a pool today and it
would be essentially the same. But baseball is and always has been
batter versus pitcher. Any gain for the pitcher is thus a minus for
the batter, and vice versa. The game remains more or less unchanged
because batters and pitchers have improved at about the same rate. If
you took a lineup from today back to the 1930s, it would basically be
a nine-inning home run derby. The same if you took a pitching staff
from today to face a 1930s lineup. With their thick bats, the 1930s
hitters would have no way of getting around on a 90 MPH fastball. And
they wouldn’t have a prayer a slider, splitter, or cut fastball
because they would never have seen anything like it. For them, just
making contact with a pitch would be a victory. So both pitching and
hitting have evolved tremendously over the years, we just don’t see it
because they are facing one another.
Steroids, then, are just the latest in a long line of improvements.
Unlike many others, though, it can benefit both pitchers and hitters.
Yes, if a guy taking steroids faces a guy who isn’t it does provide an
advantage, but the advantage doesn’t seem to be a significant one.
Otherwise, why wouldn’t all of the top players be taking them?
Also, in any given era in baseball history you could say players had
an “unfair advantage”. Prior to 1947 players were only facing the
best white competition, not the best overall competition, because
African Americans were not allowed to play, thus weakening the talent
pool. Starting in 1961 the American League added eight games to the
schedule so they played 162 games instead of 154. Not coincidently,
this was also the year Babe Ruth’s record of 60 home runs in a season
was beaten by Roger Maris. It is because of those eight extra games
that Ruth was still the single-season home run king by many.
In 1969 the mound was lowered from 15 inches to 10 inches, so
pitchers didn't have as steep a plane, giving batters a fairly significant
advantage. Also in the 1960s we saw the advent of artificial turf.
The hard surface and large parks gave fast guys a significant
advantage to the small, fast guy over the bulky slugger and yet no one
said a word.
Steroids have been around since the 1970s (many of Pittsburgh’s
“Steel Curtain” Steelers have admitted to taking them), but it seems
as though they weren’t common in baseball until the late 1980s.
Before that, however, players took “greenies”, or stimulants, that
improved their reaction time. And before “greenies”, there are
stories of players drinking tons of coffee, caffeinating themselves
before a game to get the same effect. These stimulants were probably
the original performance enhancing drug.
Heck, one of baseball’s most famous cheaters, Gaylord Perry, is in
the Hall of Fame. Perry penned an autobiography “Me and the Spitter”,
referencing the famous spitball pitch that he often threw. One
problem: the spitball has been banned since 1920, 18 years before
Perry was even born and 42 years before he threw his first major
league pitch. And yet he got a free pass straight into Cooperstown.
Thus we see throughout baseball history, modifications have been made
to give one set of players or another an advantage. We also see
players willing to do anything to get an edge. Steroids are just
another advancement that allows players to get bigger, stronger, and
faster. Just as better vitamins, nutrients, and exercise programs
allow todays athletes to be bigger, stronger, and faster than their
counterparts of yesteryear, so to are steroids just another way for
athletes to improve themselves.
Even if we do ban steroid users from the Hall of Fame, what is the
standard of proof? A failed drug test? Circumstantial evidence?
Named in Canseco’s book? Personal suspicion? Entrance into the Hall
is the greatest honor a player can be bestowed, and thus for a writer
to keep a player from going in simply because he thinks the player may
have used steroids is ludicrous.

JUST ANOTHER HOMER...(8-10-08)
I was watching a Cardinals game the other day when Albert Pujols
absolutely lit into a Chan Ho Park delivery and hit a no-doubter home
run. Wow, what a blast! A few minutes later the commentators
announced the official distance on that round-tripper was 417 feet. I
felt a twinge of disappointment. 417 feet? That was it?
I know I shouldn’t feel that way. A home run is a home run, whether
it goes just over the wall or out of the stadium entirely. Yet, for
me, there is something unfulfilling about short home runs.
This can be blamed almost entirely on Mark McGwire. My first
memories of baseball and of the Cardinals come from 1998, when McGwire
and Sammy Sosa chased and surpassed Roger Maris’ then-record 61 home
runs in a season. McGwire seemed to be under the impression that the
only park he ever played in was Yellowstone. Or at least he hit home
runs far enough to make it out of there.
He basically re-wrote the records books, hitting just about every one
of the 10 longest home runs in Busch Stadium history. And he did it
while playing just four years in St. Louis. McGwire was truly a
magician with the bat. He would wave his 33 ounce wand and the ball
would disappear.
One of my most vivid baseball memories is when Pujols hit that 3-run
home run against the Astros in the 2005 NLCS. Off the bat the only
question was whether the ball would leave the country. It went over
just about everything and hit a pane of glass about 455 feet from home
plate. One person in the Houston dugout mouthed “Oh my God!” when
Pujols connected. Yeah, it was impressive.
And yet, in 1998 alone, McGwire hit 13 bombs of 470 feet or longer,
including one that traveled an estimated 545 feet. We are talking
“see ya later, no-doubt-about-it, outfielder-doesn’t-bother-moving”
home runs. And since these were my first memories, I had nothing to
compare him against.
He was an incredible, once-in-a-generation player. Maybe once in a
lifetime. The only other sluggers that could possibly match his power
prowess, in both quality and quantity, were Mickey Mantle and Babe
Ruth. And, yet, because he is one of my first memories, it is to
McGwire against whom I measure all other sluggers.
And this is a guy who blasted them to the end. Perhaps my favorite
baseball memory came at Wrigley Field in 2001 when the Cards and Cubs
were playing. I was down the first-base line in the first level. I
had a great view when McGwire got ahold of one, hitting home run
number 582 in his career, which ended up being the second-to-last
blast of his career. The ball went out of the stadium and on to the
street beyond the left-field bleachers. The Cubs outfielder didn’t
move.
Sadly, that fantastic summer of 1998 and each one of McGwire’s 583
home runs came under scrutiny when the steroid matter exploded on to
the scene. He, Sosa, and Bonds were bashed by sportswriters around
the country after the 2006 steroid hearings. Rafael Palmiero and
Roger Clemens were added to that list soon after. And since then, no
slugger has been able to succeed without people asking “Is he clean?”
I am apparently one of the few people who really is not bothered by
the potential steroid use of so many players, but that is an argument
I will save for another day. The important thing is that baseball has
worked to clean up the game today. Yes, it would be nice to know who
was doing what, where, and when but nothing can be done about it now,
so the key is to make sure, going forward, today’s players are clean
so fans can once again believe what they see. So things are getting
better in baseball.
In the end, while it’s nice to see baseball finally take on its
problems head on, there are remnants of the “Steroid Era” that I
miss. The mammoth blasts are now a thing of the past, meaning we have
to settle for boring old, run-of-the mill 400-foot home runs. I’m not
suggesting a return to the “Glory Days” of the 1990’s, but steroids
did provide us with moments that, pharmaceutically enhanced or not, we
will remember always. Regardless of what we have found out after the
fact, that summer in 1998 was one that brought joy to many. It is a
year we will not soon forget.

 
NEWS FLASH...EURO'S HATE BASEBALL...(8-5-08)
In 2005, wishing to cut “Olympic bloat” the International Olympic Committee gave both sports the axe for the 2012 Games in London (they are up for reinstatement for 2016). According to the IOC, there is not enough world-wide interest in either sport to sustain them?
Really? According to KRCA-TV in California, baseball and softball are played in 126 countries around the world. And global appeal is only growing as Major League Baseball ramps up an intense international marketing campaign. Normally one would think 126 countries would constitute enough “world-wide” interest, but alas, this is the IOC, so if Mozambique can’t participate, then no one should. That wouldn’t be fair.
I sincerely doubt the IOC bothered to look at those facts before spouting off about the lack of world-wide appeal and needing to cut Olympic bloat. Actually, there is only one fact that they bothered to check: the United States has medalled twice since baseball was added to the Olympics in 1992 while our softball team has taken home the gold every time (softball was added in the 1996 Games). Meanwhile, the next medal a European country wins in either will be the first.
That’s right, it wasn’t lack of interest that got baseball and softball cut from the Olympics. It was politics. Need proof?
  < "We must eliminate baseball and softball!"

Of the 110 members on the International Olympic Committee, 53 are from European Countries. Three are from the United States. On the 15-member executive board, eight are European. None are American. Detecting a pattern? And since the exec board is chosen by secret ballot of the Euro-heavy IOC, I get the feeling a caucasian will be elected as an NAACP national officer before an American makes the IOC exec board.
Pushing the conspiracy further, remember this vote was held in 2005, at what was probably the height of anti-American sentiment around the world and especially Europe. Think they weren’t looking for a chance to stick it to us? Let’s just say it looks a little fishy.
It is possible that the US isn’t on the business end of a large-scale conspiracy theory, but rather a victim of circumstance. The IOC is obviously very Euro-centric. The pervading mentality of Europe is one that everyone is equal and if they are not then something needs to be done to make them equal. It’s the mentality of “the tallest blade of grass is the first one cut by the lawn mower.” And because most of the success in baseball/ softball has been concentrated in the US and Latin America, it was an easy target. Now other countries have a better shot at winning the medal count because the US doesn’t walk in basically guaranteed winning a medal in both. If you can’t beat ‘em, cut ‘em, right, Europe?
Unfortunately, the US softball team’s performance in Athens in 2004 did not help their cause. To say they “won” the gold medal is like saying Death Valley in mid-August during a heat wave is “warm”. The softball team went 9-0, outscoring opponents 51-1. Even “dominant” doesn’t describe that performance. Sadly, they were perhaps too good. Instead of letting the rest of the world catch up, the IOC decided to “cut the tallest blade of grass” and eliminate softball completely.
Why not do like they did with basketball? In 1992, professionals were allowed to play in the Olympics for the first time. That led to the “Dream Team” that went 6-0 in Olympic play, winning by an average of 43 points. Four years later the world closed in a little and the US “only” won by an average of 32 points per game. In 2000 the US squeaked out a third gold medal, although a 2-point victory over Lithuania showed the world was catching up. Finally, in 2004, the US failed to win the gold for the first time while using professional players, managing “only” a bronze medal.
Yes, US softball is clearly the class of the world right now. But in a decade, who knows? Unfortunately, the IOC chose not to allow softball to continue. Apparently, ‘tis better to drag the best down then pull the worst up.

UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL...(7-20-08)
I’m doing a radio internship in Denver for the summer, learning the ups and downs of the journalism trade. One of the definite “ups” is that I get to go to baseball games. Members of the media get a press pass, which not only allows them to get into the game for free, but also field and clubhouse access.
Bill Rogan (who has graciously agreed to mentor me while in Denver) took me to watch the Rockies play the Pittsburgh Pirates last night. Even though I have been to dozens of games before, each one is a new experience because I always see something I'd never seen before. Bill and I walked up to the stadium and went in through the media entrance using my shiny new press pass. I had never noticed this before, but the media have a gate separate from the fans. No waiting in line AND a free ball game? Already this media thing was looking pretty good.
We passed through security and went up to the press box. It was huge! Rows and rows of chairs and desks, most of them empty (we were still two hours before first pitch). Laid out for us were stacks of sheets filled with statistics about the players for both teams, with everything from a player’s home run total to the number of strikeouts he had with the bases loaded and fewer than two outs.
The real fun started when Bill took me on a tour of the inner bowels of Coors Field. First we went out on to the field while the Pirates were taking batting practice. Seeing these athletes up close is something new altogether for me. Sometimes we lose sight of the fact that these guys really are just normal human beings. They just have the extraordinary ability to hit a baseball traveling at 90 miles per hour.
Bill and I stood outside the Pirates dugout for a while just taking in the scene. He was telling me stories about some of the guys that he knew from his days as a minor league commentator. I just listened in awe, still trying to get over the fact that I was standing on a major league field. More than anything else, I just wanted to run and slide head-first into second base. It seemed like a great idea, except people who do that tend to get arrested, which didn't sound too appealing.
After a few minutes of watching batting practice, I followed Bill through the dugout and into the Rockies clubhouse. This was my first time in a major league locker room. Above the lockers were the names of so many good players. Holliday. Tulowitzki. Fuentes. To avoid looking like a total doofus I pretty much had to stand there looking relaxed, while I looked around the room out of my peripheral vision. I wanted nothing more than to run up and ask for autographs. But again, the whole getting kicked out/ arrested thing didn’t seem like a great idea.
After a quick look around we left the locker room. Across the way was the team’s star, Matt Holliday. He was watching video of that night’s opposing pitcher to see if he could learn anything. Apparently it worked because two hours later he smoked a home run in his first at bat. Amazing how often the best player on a team is also coincidentally the one who spends the most time in the video room.
Bill and I headed back to the press box and settled in for the game. We were not disappointed, as the game turned out to be a good one. The atmosphere in the press box was different than I was used to, as there is no cheering allowed. The press box was open so the outside crowd noise did filter in some. Still, we were separate from the Denver denizens, so the mood wasn’t quite the same as being in the crowd.
That said, Average Joe doesn’t get to go into the clubhouse or on to the field. When you get those perks and the biggest complaint is that the crowd noise wasn’t that loud, then life is pretty good. Besides, I can always just pretend I’m at a Detroit Tigers game.

 

 

 

THE JOY OF....TRACTORS?...(7-7-08)
Growing older (notice I did not say “growing up”) I was a bit of an oddity because I never moved to a different state, town, or even house during my childhood. The day after I was born my parents brought me into the same home that I walk into whenever I am on break from school some twenty years later. It is certainly rare, especially in today’s world, to be able to do that. Most kids are dragged from place to place based on the whims of their parents’ employers.
Not having to move around allowed me to settle in and really become comfortable with my surrounds. I loved (and still love) small-town life, but growing up in one place, no matter where, can give you a bit of a warped sense of normality, simply because you have nothing to compare it to.
This really came to light last Friday, when I went to the Fourth of July celebration at the park in town (which is just down the street from the only street from our only stoplight). Of course there were the standards at such events: people decked out in the red, white, and blue, local bands, and a car show. The volunteer firemen even brought out one of their trucks, extended the ladder, and draped Old Glory from the top.
However, there were also some aspects that most people probably would not normal. For example, right next to the car show was a tractor show, where people restored older tractors and brought them in to show off. All my life I always just took that in stride. “Of course we have an antique tractor show at the Fourth of July celebration! Who doesn’t?”
Another time I was talking to someone about county fairs. We were going back and forth, naming our favorite aspects. The food. The rides. The food. The demolition derby. The food. (I was hungry) The tractor pulls. Wait, what?
A tractor pull, for those of you who are not familiar, is an event where participants hook their tractors up to a weighted sled and pull it as far as they can. The winner is the one who pulls the sled the furthest. I grew up around them, watching three or four tractor pulls per summer at the various area county fairs. Who doesn’t know what a tractor pull is? Well, the rest of the country, apparently.
So growing up in a small town sheltered me from the harsh reality that, no, not everyone knows what a tractor pull is. My sense of “normal” may be a little different from most, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.
Sadly, I am going to be out of town next weekend, when the real fun begins: the I & I Tractor Club hosts a show where farmers and collectors bring in antique tractors from literally all over the country for a four-day event that attracts many thousands of people. If that’s not normal, I don’t know what is.


HIT THE ROAD JACK...(6-29-08)
Impromptu road trips have always been my dad’s favorite. He loves to tell the story from his childhood where his family was set to go on vacation, and at the end of the driveway his father asked, completely serious, “East or West?” Dad claims it was one of the best vacations he ever had.
Learning from the best, Dad has become an expert in leading impromptu trips. Although the unplanned journeys to Chicago and Cincinnati were impressive, the height of my Dad’s impromptu career came when he decided to take us to New York to see my Mom’s family for Thanksgiving. An hour after he decided to go, we embarked on the 14-hour road trip.
So I suppose it should come as no surprise that around midnight, when the Cardinals were in Detroit playing the Tigers, my Dad asked me if I wanted to see a game. Sure, Detroit was six hours away and the game started in twelve hours, but so what? That left us six whole hours to get some sleep and prepare for the trip! I didn’t know what to do with all that prep time.
Five and a half hours later my Dad, brother, and I hit the road, bound for the Motor City. As an extra precaution, I had even printed off a map so we knew where we were headed. What was I thinking?
Thankfully, Dad set me straight. The map sent us through Chicago at 8:00 AM. We thought that we might possibly have some traffic issues at the time. So he guided me a different way, taking back roads and many miles off the charted course. What fun is an impromptu trip if you know where you are going?
The 360-mile journey went pretty well, as we were only stopped once for construction (and even that was a short delay). We found a fairly reasonably priced parking spot close to the stadium, got some tickets, and went in. Unfortunately I didn’t have time to look around much before the game, but from what I saw it was great. There were several large stone tigers guarding the entrance, lying atop the brick facade. An archway above us proudly proclaimed “Comerica Park”. Inside was gorgeous as well, although similar to most other new parks in the “retro” style. A wall beyond the centerfield fence held the numbers of retired Tiger legends like Ty Cobb and Al Kaline. The stadium did a nice job of feigning the “open” look, but a large structure in centerfield enclosed the stadium pretty well, closing off the less-than-picturesque Detroit skyline. That was probably for the best.
 < "Hey look, it's the Jarboes in Detroit. And they made it out alive!!!"
If what we saw out front were stone tigers, then the guy running the scoreboard was apparently a stoned Tiger. For most of the first inning, the scoreboard showed the statistics for the wrong hitter. Apparently hitting “Next” to bring up the stats for the following batter is a very difficult process. After the first inning, either the guy sobered up, or they got someone who knew what the heck he was doing, because all was well after that.
Our right-field bleacher seats gave us a nice view of the game, although I did feel slightly uncomfortable. Bleacher fans are known for being a little more rowdy, and there I was decked out in the opposing team’s colors, wearing my “2006 World Series Champions” shirt and hat. That championship had come against- you guessed it- these same Detroit Tigers. Hopefully they have short memories.
To their credit, we were treated well by Tiger fans (or at least not mocked incessantly). There was one rather loud fan a few rows in front of us, but other than that, the experience was great.
Unfortunately, those right-field seats also gave us a nice view of Detroit’s game tying home run in the bottom of the ninth, and the next inning our pitcher gave up a game-ending walk with the bases loaded to end it. Seriously, a walk? So, to recap, my dad, brother, and I drove a total of eleven hours to watch our team blow a lead in the bottom of the ninth and WALK IN the winning run in the tenth. Is there a more painful way to lose a game? I really doubt it.
The extra inning had an added problem… it extended the game so we were leaving just in time to hit 5:00 traffic. Oh joy.
The funny thing is, in Detroit, it literally is a 5:00 traffic problem. At 4:59 we were cruising just fine, and then at 5:00 we had to hit the brakes. Even that only lasted a few minutes though, so once again we were on our way. So I guess if you are in Detroit exactly at 5:00, stop off for some gas and you’ll miss the traffic. Beats the heck out of Chicago.
The ride home was uneventful and we got in around 11:00. Despite the loss, it had been a good day. Traffic was good, the park was beautiful, the weather was gorgeous, and I got to watch a baseball game. What more could you ask for? That said, I’m probably not going to pull another stunt like that any time soon.