By Joe Quadres
To make a long story short, I am in a moral quandary. I would like to be a baseball fan, seeing that it is my favorite sport. Naturally, I would like to root for a team. Unfortunately, it matters greatly to me what other people think. I could not stand to be called a traitor or a frontrunner. Well, ok, I could stand it, but I need ammo to defend myself. In some ways, the choice I make defines me as a sports fan. In others, it defines me as a human being.
Here, as I see it, are all of my options:
1. REMAIN A DODGER FAN.
2. BE A FAN OF WHATEVER TEAM IS CLOSEST TO THE CITY I LIVE IN.
3. PICK A TEAM AT RANDOM
4. PICK A TEAM BASED ON WHATEVER CRITERIA I WANT TO.
5. STAY NEUTRAL.
Each of these choices has positives and negatives. I hope by examining each of these options, I will be able to not only make a choice, but shed some light on what it means to be a fan.
1. REMAIN A DODGER FAN.
This is maybe the easiest choice. It means I don’t have to question my identity; I am a Dodger fan and that is that. It allows me to have civic pride. I would be able to say that I rooted for the same team my whole life. All of my baseball memories live in Chavez Ravine. (I was at the game that Chris Gwynn won with an extra inning homer—that’s the kind of thing I mean). I can maintain the bond I have with my father, who rooted for the Dodgers most of his life too. I don’t have to throw anything away or buy new hats.
But hats are the problem. I don’t live in Los Angeles. Other than the fact that most of my friends live there, I don’t miss it all that much. Why should the geography of my birth—hardly a matter of choice—dictate who I root for? Other than geography, the Dodgers have no meaning for me. First of all, the owner has no LA ties. None of the coaches or players do either. Unlike the Padres, who will always have their Tony Gwynn, not one of my Dodger heroes growing up finished with the team. Literally, not one. Every single famous Dodger in my lifetime finished up somewhere else. Valenzuela, Hershiser, Sciocsia (who finished with LA as a player, but is currently managing the Angels which counts to me), Sax, Piazza, Karros. All of these longtime Dodgers finished elsewhere.
So, basically, I am rooting for a hat. It doesn’t matter who’s under that hat, where they came from, how long they’ve been here, etc. If the hat says LA, I’m supposed to root for them. But in light of all of the despicable things this team has done to show me they don’t care about me, is a blue hat really supposed to keep me true? To a city I haven’t lived in for five years and probably will never live in again? This is the hardest part. There is certainly a part of me that feels like not being a Dodger fan is WRONG. As long as they don’t kill puppies during the 7th inning stretch, I’m supposed to stick with them. But the rest of me feels like I don’t owe these current Dodgers a damn thing. Does this make me a traitor, or does it make me a man of principle? A complainer or a real fan of the game? Or neither? Or both?
2. BE A FAN OF WHATEVER TEAM IS CLOSEST.
I have to admit there is some appeal here. I lived in Northwest Indiana and Chicago for four years. While I was not a Cubs or Sox “fan,” I did watch the local news and read the local papers and listen to the local radio so these were the teams I knew best. I bought a Cubs hat. I went to Wrigley Field three or four times and while there, I did cheer for the Cubs.
But this can’t be right, can it? I have no idea where I’ll end up, but right now I’m in Dallas. Am I supposed to be a Rangers’ fan? I don’t think I can do that for a myriad of reasons, most of which are obvious. And even if I do live here the rest of my life, there is something so empty about just rooting for the hometown team and throwing away everything I stood for my whole life.
3. PICK A TEAM AT RANDOM
Again, this would seem ridiculous, but isn’t it the most fair? If I’m not a Dodger fan, it may make sense to just pick a team out of a hat. That way, no one could accuse me of frontrunning or bandwagoning. But what if I picked the Rangers? Or the Marlins? Or the Orioles? There’s no way I can do this. And if I pick a team at random, then throw the team back, the whole exercise is lost.
4. PICK A TEAM BASED ON WHATEVER I WANT.
Definitely some appeal here. There are lots of teams that I kind of like. There are teams with great GMs like the A’s or Red Sox. They appeal to my intellectual side. I like the Indians and the Brewers because they built themselves up from nothing to contention with their farm system. They will succeed or fail in the right way, the way teams used to do it. Part of me wants to be an Angel fan because they are who the Dodgers used to be. Their entire coaching staff is made up of ex-Dodgers they are owned by a guy who is in it to win, not to turn a profit. Most of their team is homegrown and the free agents they do get are (mostly) guys that they want to keep for the long term.
Of course, the problem here is that, in general, these things are cyclical. I don’t mean that teams go from up-years to down-years and I’m not willing to follow; if I can see future potential, then 100 loss seasons are fine. I mean that teams eventually start trading off all of the guys you like. Take the A’s for example. Every year until they have new ownership, the A’s will trade or release every single player they have who will command a big salary. You can never become attached to an Athletic—as soon as they are free agents, they’re gone. So in order to be an A’s fan, you either have to live or have grown up in Oakland and be willing to root for whoever is wearing the green and gold, or you have to be rooting for Mad Genius Billy Beane. While there is something appealing about that, rooting for a GM is hardly romantic or fulfilling. I mean, am I supposed to chant Billy’s name every time he makes a trade? Should I hold up signs saying, “I love you, Billy” every time a no-namer with and high OBP comes up? So the problem with this approach is that, chances are, I’ll never be able to pick a team to stick with. Every five years or so I’ll constantly be shifting teams. Also, if that team does win the Series, they’ll inevitably break-up and in order to try and stay on top, the desperate GMs will hire crap free agents instead of accepting that their run is over. At that point, they will become the teams I dislike and I’m out shopping again.
5. STAY NEUTRAL
This is where I am now. There are some positives. I don’t get depressed when my team loses. I can root for the guys on my Fantasy team no matter who they’re playing. I see the game objectively. It’s almost like watching Lost; I don’t necessarily root for any of the characters to live or die, I just want the show to be entertaining.
But it’s empty here. I want to be depressed when a team loses because it means I can be high when they win. I want to have a passion. I want to be a fan, not an analyst.
Sports is highly ethical. It is the only part of our lives that we expect to be fair. I need your help, Dear Readers. Which of these decisions is the right one? Which can I be proud of? Which one allows me to look in the mirror and say, “I am a ___________ fan for all the right reasons.” The Dodgers will always be the team of my youth and they will always surround the softest parts of me. But as an adult, I have rights, damnit!!! I just need you to tell me what they are.
Complete me. Please.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Choices, Part 2
Friday, June 27, 2008
Thanks for the Memories
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Darren Daulton
By Nick McCann
While dealing with last night's lost to the Twins this morning, I was in my bathroom, and I started to think about Darren Daulton, and a story I remembered hearing a few years ago on the Dan Patrick Show. I love that man!
John Kruk needs to write a book.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Choices, Part One
By Joe Quadres
When first approached to write a blog for this site, I was instructed to wear the black hate of a lifelong Dodger fan slinging arrows at the Padre faithful. I found that hat enticing and immediately began to think of barbs to throw at you. Here is a sampling of some of the good ones.
1. Even naming your team after a religious leader hasn’t helped you win.
2. I have three World Series “rings” in my lifetime—you have none.
3. Los Angeles is like San Diego but with a point.
4. You know your franchise is pathetic when you can’t even get a team to be your rival. The closest thing the Padres have to a rival is the Mariners, who are in a different league and over 1000 miles away.
5. You have the least relevant team in a state which also has the Angels. That’s pathetic. Congrats.
6. Ken Caminiti was once your franchise’s proudest player. Congrats.
7. Jake Peavy has more acne than my back in 1994. No slider can make up for that. He is possibly the ugliest millionaire I’ve ever seen, including that Apple guy who’s dating Kathy Griffin.
8. Your stadium is named after a chew toy.
9. Your GM’s biggest free agent signing in the last 5 years is Ryan Klesko. Congrats.
10. Real teams don’t have throwback uniforms. You’ve changed uniforms more often than Lindsey Lohan has forgotten to change her panties.
These are the highlights of shittalking which I intended to throw your way. However, the more I thought about being the “Dodger Fan,” the more I had to consider the reason I couldn’t be. The reason why is simple: I am no longer a Dodger fan and haven’t been for years.
My relationship with the Dodgers ended like so many others do. It happened gradually and, at the same time, instantly. I can, however, pinpoint the exact day that I gave up the Blue for dead.
I stayed with the Dodgers through a whole lot of bullshit that I didn’t like. When Peter O’Malley sold the team to Fox, I stayed. When the Dodgers traded Mike Piazza—my favorite player—I stayed. I remained faithful through the Kevin Malone era—and era which brought us Carlos Perez among others. I stayed when Fox sold the team to a Boston parking lot attendant with no money. I stayed even though it meant rooting for Jeff Kent. But my back was finally broken on October 30th, 2005 when the Dodgers fired Paul DePodesta.
Most of my faith in the Dodgers was already gone. But the hiring of DePodesta was the life raft I needed to keep me on board. Here, for the first time in a decade, was a hope for long-term success. Imagining what Billy Beane had done in Oakland with no payroll sent me soaring. Seeing what Theo Epstein was doing with more had me dreaming. I believe and will until my dying day that if Paul DePodesta had been given five years, the Dodgers would have joined the Yankees, Red Sox, and Cardinals as the flagship franchises in Major League Baseball: the teams that had a chance to win it all EVERY SINGLE FUCKING YEAR.
DePodesta took the helm in mid-February 2004. It was too late to overhaul this albatross—teams aren’t dealing in spring training. Little by little, De Podesta put his stamp on the ’04 team, always looking not to the present but to the long-term future. In his 19 months, DePodesta added and subtracted a number of players. Not ONE of his personnel decisions was a bad one. NOT ONE!!!! Don’t believe me? Here are the guys DePodesta got:
Milton Bradley: not exactly a cornerstone, but acquired for an outfielder who is only now playing his first big league season in Cleveland. Bradley was the second best Dodger position player for two years, had a manageable contract, and was jettisoned as soon as better options came up. Good move.
Jose Lima: Here’s a timeline: 1. Lima brought to spring training along with a dozen other retreads. 2. Lima pitches well enough to make the team at the league minimum salary. 3. Lima has a good year--again, at the league minimum. 4. Lima wants more money, so DePodesta releases him, knowing that he can invite a dozen more retreads to Spring Training in ’05 and replace Lima at the league minimum. 5. Lima proves DePodesta right by sucking balls the rest of his short career. Good move.
Brad Penny: Pitched in two All-Star games, including one start.
Hee Seop Choi: Sure a bust, but who cares at the league minimum salary?
Jeff Kent: Yes, I hate him, but signing a former MVP and Hall of Famer to a two year contract? Good move.
JD Drew: The only questionable guy on the list, mostly because of the length and size of his contract. But Drew is a solid player when healthy, and the Red Sox—by far the best run organization in the bigs--are happy to have him. Decent move.
Derek Lowe: A highly criticized move, but a GREAT one, that’s right, I said it, GREAT. Lowe was signed to a four year, $36 million deal. For that, from 2004 to 2007, Lowe missed ONE start. Just one. He has had an ERA under 4.00 each of those years. Baseballprospectus.com values his performance over those three years as being worth $44.8 million. GREAT move.
Here are the major players DePodesta parted with. Not ONE of them has been a cost/benefit success. Not ONE. Don’t believe me? Here they are:
Adrian Beltre: Sure he’s a good player, but at $13 million a year? No thanks.
Paul LoDuca: peaked in 2003. Now he makes a ton of money, was named in the Mitchell report, and plays for the Nationals. No thanks.
Guillermo Mota: See Jose Lima.
In 2004, DePodesta’s nominal first year, a horrible thing happened. The Dodgers got lucky and won the West. This was the worst thing that could have happened. First of all, the ’04 Dodgers had no chance to get to the Series. They were lucky just to be there. More importantly, DePodesta was in the middle of blowing up this team. If the ’04 team had sucked, DePodesta would have gotten his time. But the ’04 win made the last place ’05 team look even worse than they were. Of course, the ’05 team was ravaged by injuries, having to dip into the Mexican league twice just to field a roster. But none of that mattered. Bill Plaschke and the rest of the sub-moronic newspapermen (Plaschke is still a Tommy Lasorda fan—I think there’s enough said there) were too stupid to understand what DePodesta was doing and threw him to the wolves. Owner Frank McCourt is legendarily stupid and fired him after 19 months on the job, the first six of which should not even count because of his late hiring. He went out and hired a guy named Ned from the Giants, a protégé of Brian Sabean, who will soon rival names like Malone, Jim Bowden, and Andy MacPhail in the annals of the worst GMs of all time. Seriously, could we hire Isaiah Thomas? In the interest of fairness, here are Ned’s moves in his two years:
Grady Little: Need I say more?
Rafael Furcal: an ok signing, but was shortstop really our biggest need, with Izturis perfectly capable of keeping the seat warm for Lu?
Nomar: It’s not 1998. Enough said. Then resigned to block Adam Laroche.
Brett Tomko: oooooh, shiny. Jesus.
Kenny Lofton: It’s not 1995.
Danys Baez and Lance Carter for Edwin Jackson: Jackson is contributing to a second place team, Baez and Carter are contributing to unemployment statistics. AND they cost ten times as much money as Jackson is making.
Mark Hendrickson and Toby Hall for Dioner Navarro and Jae Seo: Is going to the Rays for big league help really our best option?
Greg Maddux: nice rental, didn’t help.
Juan Pierre to a HUGE five year contract: there’s nothing better than a below average centerfielder with no arm, no bat, and a crooked hat. I am SHOCKED that Kenny Lofton didn’t fill our needs. Besides, we really need a leadoff man whose OBP is .310…oh wait, we already have one in Furcal. But luckily, we have Pierre to block Kemp, Ethier, et al at 50 times the price. Just brilliant.
Jason Schmidt to a big 3 year contract: It’s not 2001.
Luis Gonzalez: It’s not 2003.
Joe Torre: okay, a fine move, but isn’t this sort of a no-brainer? Should a GM really get credit for this? When the alternative is Grady Little? Really???
Andruw Jones: To be fair, this was a good signing. No it hasn’t worked out and probably won’t, but at two years was worth the risk.
All of the best Dodger players make less than $1 million dollars and were called up because of injury. So basically, found by accident. And every one of them is currently blocked by an albatross veteran whose best days are a minimum of three years behind him. You cannot build a franchise by pretending you’re playing MLB 2004 on PS2. Instead of joining the Red Sox, Indians, Brewers and Diamondbacks—teams that thought long term and succeed primarily with either homegrown talent or stars acquired with homegrown talent-- the Dodgers have joined the Orioles, Giants, and Mariners as teams that are sinking beneath the weight of their terrible contracts.
Enough prelude. The point is I’m not a Dodger fan any more. But am I doing the right thing? Am I Benedict Arnold? Is it my right as a fan to be a Free Agent?
STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO.
40 Words
By Nick McCann
Closer Trevor Hoffman gave up back-to-back homers in the ninth inning as San Diego lost to Minnesota at PETCO Park. Adrian Gonzalez scored the only run for the Padres and Jake Peavy went six strong innings, but got a no-decision- last night’s game summary from MLB.com.
The Padres’ best hitter scored, their best pitcher threw the best game possible for his current health situation, their over the hill icon of a closer showed his age, and they ended up losing to the Twins, a franchise with more talent and less resources.
Last night when the game was tied at 1-1 in the eighth, I decided to watch Matt Damon hate the Jews in the solid early 90s almost classic, School Ties instead. I figured that I knew Matt Damon was good in the movie and he wouldn’t let me down. I knew he would make me hate him for assuming that the Jews were evil even though he didn’t know any. I did this because, unlike Damon's character's feelings toward the Jews, I know who the Padres are. I figured I would wake up, check MLB.com for the wrap up, and not be surprised by another blown opportunity to get closer to the top of the NL West Standings.
The 2008 Season can be summed up in 40 words, and the message of School Ties can be summed up in 10: don’t make assumptions about things you don’t know anything about.
I know too much about the Padres.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Twins
By Nick McCann
I'm really excited about the upcoming series against the Minnesota Twins. This is probably because I have been affected way too much by the impact of The Brandon Walsh idea. I loved Kirby Puckett and so did he. I loved Jennie Garth and so did he (eventually). I love The Replacements, and even though he never really expressed it, I know he did too.
Also, the series gives me an excuse to think about this:
ALOT!
Does it make anybody else sad that the movie Twins has slowly been faded out as a movie that cable networks play on forgettable Sunday afternoons before and after the football season? It used to always just be there like Jeane Tripplehorn and Rescue 911, but now it is not. Con Air is better than okay, and shouldn't get slammed as much as it does, but Devito and Arnold had a chemistry that can't be ignored (watch Junior when you are hungover and tell me it isn't kinda funny). And let's be real, watching Kelly Preston in her prime is like seeing an old picture of a Kirby Puckett smile.
Monday, June 23, 2008
George Carlin Dead at 71
by Joe Chandler
More in my on-going Padres photo series. This picture is tentatively titled:
A Bright Light Has Gone Out
By Josh Elwell
Yesterday, George Carlin died. Not only was he one of the best stand-up actsaround, but the guy could write about sports, too.
Here's an excerpt from his 1997 book, Brain Droppings:
Baseball is different from any other sport, very different. For instance, inmost sports you score points or goals; in baseball you score runs. In mostsports the ball, or object, is put in play by the offensive team; inbaseball the defensive team puts the ball in play, and only the defense isallowed to touch the ball. In fact, in baseball if an offensive playertouches the ball intentionally, he's out; sometimes unintentionally, he'sout.
Also: in football, basketball, soccer, volleyball, and all sports playedwith a ball, you score with the ball and in baseball the ball prevents youfrom scoring.
In most sports the team is run by a coach; in baseball the team is run by amanager. And only in baseball does the manager or coach wear the sameclothing the players do. If you'd ever seen John Madden in his OaklandRaiders uniform, you'd know the reason for this custom.
Now, I've mentioned football. Baseball & football are the two most popularspectator sports in this country. And as such, it seems they ought to beable to tell us something about ourselves and our values.
I enjoy comparing baseball and football:
Baseball is a nineteenth-century pastoral game.
Football is a twentieth-century technological struggle.
Baseball is played on a diamond, in a park. The baseball park!
Football is played on a gridiron, in a stadium, sometimes called SoldierField or War Memorial Stadium.
Baseball begins in the spring, the season of new life.
Football begins in the fall, when everything's dying.
In football you wear a helmet.
In baseball you wear a cap.
Football is concerned with downs ‹ what down is it?
Baseball is concerned with ups ‹ who's up?
In football you receive a penalty.
In baseball you make an error.
In football the specialist comes in to kick.
In baseball the specialist comes in to relieve somebody.
Football has hitting, clipping, spearing, piling on, personal fouls, latehitting and unnecessary roughness.
Baseball has the sacrifice.
Football is played in any kind of weather: rain, snow, sleet, hail, fog...
In baseball, if it rains, we don't go out to play.
Baseball has the seventh inning stretch.
Football has the two minute warning.
Baseball has no time limit: we don't know when it's gonna end ‹ might haveextra innings.
Football is rigidly timed, and it will end even if we've got to go to suddendeath.
In baseball, during the game, in the stands, there's kind of a picnicfeeling; emotions may run high or low, but there's not too muchunpleasantness.
In football, during the game in the stands, you can be sure that at leasttwenty-seven times you're capable of taking the life of a fellow humanbeing.
And finally, the objectives of the two games are completely different:
In football the object is for the quarterback, also known as the fieldgeneral, to be on target with his aerial assault, riddling the defense byhitting his receivers with deadly accuracy in spite of the blitz, even if hehas to use shotgun. With short bullet passes and long bombs, he marches histroops into enemy territory, balancing this aerial assault with a sustainedground attack that punches holes in the forward wall of the enemy'sdefensive line.
In baseball the object is to go home! And to be safe!
I hope I'll be safe.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Growing Up Hank
By Nick McCann
After losing his ace, Chien-Ming Wang, to a base running injury in an interleague game at Houston just days before his Yankees played the Padres on Tuesday, Hank Steinbrenner said, “The National League needs to join the 21st century. They need to grow up and join the 21st century.”
Hank Steinbrenner doesn’t understand that growing up is hard, even though I’m sure growing up was hard for him. It must have been insanely difficult to grow up knowing that (A) you will never do anything as cool as your Dad (B) that your Dad loves the results of that cool thing more than you and (C) knowing that you will be expected to take over your Dad’s signature cool thing when his mind is unraveling and unable to make the family’s bitchy comments to the media.
George Steinbrenner bought the New York Yankees for next to nothing in the seventies. The deal now is looked at to be the equivalent of the Louisiana Purchase within the context of sports, because The Bronx Bombers are now worth well over a billion dollars and climbing. Recently, the family has decided to isolate George from media because of health issues, leaving his son Hank to carry on the daily operations and the tradition of complaining about everything. However, it seems like Hank is trying to prove that he can be more like his father than his father ever was.
The idea that the National League needs to grow up implies that the National League needs to develop itself into something better. But that doesn’t really apply when dealing with the designated hitter rule, because it takes more things away than it adds.
Within the game, not having the rule forces players to have larger skill sets and managers to exhibit more of their own strategic prowess. For fans, it allows us (when the pitcher is not Jake Peavy) to identify more closely to at least one batter in the lineup. How many times have you been sitting with someone at a National League game who doesn’t know anything about baseball and had to explain to them why the pitcher can't hit? For someone new to the game, this observation is usually a confusing one, but it also breeds more interest into what this new slow-yet relaxing-game is all about.
The worst part about Hank Steinbrenner’s statement isn’t that it is clearly idiotic; it's that it's clearly a statement intended to be a “Steinbrenner Response” from a Steinbrenner who hasn’t won anything since taking the throne. It’s beyond stupid; it’s just tragic. His Dad probably doesn’t recognize him anymore, and even if after the inevitable classic New York quick fix at the trade deadline somehow leads to a World Series Title this season, it will satisfy nothing because the team will always be George’s favorite son.
I would rather keep never growing up while watching Chris Young bunt.
See You In The Fall KG
By Nick McCann
Did you know that when Kevin Garnett played in Minnesota he built a guest house for his dogs and installed huge plasma TVs for them in their sleeping areas?
He's not crazy.
Who the hell is peanut?
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Great Moments in Padres History: A Photo Series, Vol 1
By Joe Chandler
Pete Rose breaks Ty Cobb's all-time record for hits.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Hail Headley
By Josh Elwell
As the Padres go into “The House that Ruth Built” for one last series, it’s time to get caught up on what happened over the weekend. Underneath the fracas of the Indians, a Kouz grand slam, and a faulty bullpen -- the Headley era unofficially began. What this era will be defined as will begin to take light on Tuesday, when top prospect Chase Headley will most likely be in the starting lineup against the Yankees. No pressure, right? It’s only baseball’s biggest stage.
Before I get ahead of myself, I want to recap the last series of the official pre-Headley era.
Friday the 13th – Game 1
Headley’s still a Portland Beaver. Kevin Kouzmanoff’s no longer a Cleveland Indian.
Kouz made that very clear when he punished his former team to the tune of 3 hits and 3 runs produced. Adrian Gonzalez added on 4 RBI’s to keep his NL lead.
The great thing about the Padres is that when our pitching is lights out, our offense disappears. And when our offense begins to crush balls, we send out 4 different pitchers out who each give up at least 2 runs a piece, which happened on Friday. Wait? Did I say that’s the great thing about the Padres? Because what I meant to say is that it makes me want to cry.
June 14th – Game 2
The brown and orange. So refreshing. So magical. Seeing the Padres wear their vintage brown and orange jerseys sealed our win from the beginning. I knew it from the start. That jersey has the powers of Zeus and, by God, Bud Black unlocked those powers on Saturday afternoon. Too bad Poseidon screwed around with yesterday’s rain delay. Today, though, today would be different.
Before the game even started, it was leaked that Headley was in Cleveland. He left the yesteryears of AAA, and, therefore, the hopeful answer to continue the recent turnaround was here.
Speculation was that he’d be in uniform by Sunday. Today, he’d be experiencing the big league atmosphere for the second time in as many years. Let’s hope this time lasts longer than ‘07’s 3-day experiment.
Unless Scott Hairston’s elbow puts him on the DL, Headley’s entrance means the final days for Paul McAnulty or Justin Huber are drawing near. One of those three won’t be seeing the field for Yankee Stadium’s final season. My meaningless guess: Huber. Even after his homerun this weekend.
Okay, back to the game. After Kouzmanoff’s grand slam, Cha Seung Baek sailing through innings 2-7, and Huber & Jody Gerut smacking solo shots out of Jacobs Field, the Padres took the middle game of the series.
Not that any of that mattered, because it had everything to do with the magical ’78 jerseys on their backs. Thanks, Zeus, you’re the best.
Game 3 – June 15th
Any surprise we lost? Better not be, because that’s what we get after going back to the bleige jerseys that I’ve already ranted enough about.
Still no Headley either. Black said he’d be with the team by Tuesday. Today, he’ll be getting some at-bats in the Hall of Fame Game in Cooperstown, New York. When Tuesday comes, he’ll most likely get his first swings of the season from DH; it will be a nice place for him to warm up. He can take to the outfield after getting batting practice during these interleague games.
Fine, I’ll stop avoiding it, Carsten Charles Sabathia owned the Padres today. That’s the only recap needed.
So, the pre-Headley era ends with a couple of losses and a single win due only to the retro jerseys. If Headley can live up to the hype and produce numbers close to what he’s done in Portland this season -- not even our shitty jerseys can hold the team back, and our outfield will have some stability.
No pressure, though. It’s just Yankee Stadium -- “The House that Babe ‘Greatest Player Ever’ Ruth Built.” Can you handle that, Chase? I hope so, because a whole city is counting on you, after this last losing weekend.
Friday, June 13, 2008
A US Open Father's Day
By Nick McCann
I have never been able to really care about golf because I have always been afraid of what that would mean. It has always seemed like a retirement sport or a sport that my Dad would like. Actually, I know my Dad my likes it because he does…more and more with every day that he gets closer to his death. And I am sure of this because he spends more money on Golf gear and instructional tapes every year.
Maybe loving Golf means accepting death. When I was 9 I felt the same way about coffee.
Anyways! Even though The US Open is being played at Torrey Pines this weekend, I still can't find a good reason for caring about the PGA. It is not really something I understand because I can’t see any reason to root for any one golfer. I guess it is the same reason why I can’t get into Nascar: a sport that people are passionate about because they (a) love cars and (b) they become attached to drivers that come from their region of the country.
If Golf is supposed to play to that same sensibility, than apparently everyone in San Diego should be rooting for Phil “Not The Groundhog” Mickelson, a local legend, and the clear-cut second best golfer on the planet. But rooting for him because I share the same place of birth seems unnatural and forced.
I’m at a point in my life where I don’t want to play golf, and more importantly, I don’t want to be obsessed with getting better at it. This means I am still clinging to the idea that I can stop my self from turning into my Dad. In my eyes, males who decide to golf professionally accept this reality at a very young age: their dad wants to be the father of a pro golfer and they grant that wish because they want to please.
In the film SLC Punk, Matthew Lillard’s Dad, Christopher McDonald (who also played Shooter McGavin in Happy Gilmore), says to his punk rock son, “I didn’t sell out son, I bought in!” McDonald's character made this decision later in life, but for most pro golfers, they make this decision before they are five years old. How can I root for somebody that quick to discard any form of youthful rebellion? Besides John Daly, golfers don’t get arrested; they excel at a sport that all the power players in our legal system play on the weekends. This probably means that Golfers can literally get away with murder if they dish out the right golf tips to the right judges (this assumption might be exaggerated, but I'm sure not by much).
Whenever my Dad asks me to play golf with him (he has recently stopped), I always decline and he then gives me a look of disappointment. He watches the last day of every major tournament and when ever I am there to share the experience, I can feel that he wishes that I could have followed the same track that Mickelson did without him ever saying it.
I don’t want to be Phil and I definitely don’t want to be one of these guys:
The only thing interesting about Golf is the storyline of Tiger Woods. I can allow my self to watch the last day of a major only if he is in contention and if I have to go to parents’ house to borrow a tool or something. It always feels the same way it felt watching Bulls on WGN in the early 90s. Tiger Woods is chasing Jack Nicklaus for our generation and he is doing it with an MJ intensity (and a near perfect Swedish bombshell for a wife) in the same way MJ was chasing Wilt, Russell, Oscar Robinson, Jerry West, and Dr. J. etc.
However, I would not be bummed at all if Phil Mickelson won the tournament. If Tiger is Jordan, Phil is Reggie Miller and that is as cool as any pro Golf dynamic can be (would that make Vijay Singh John Starks?). I don’t need Tiger to win this particular US Open, but I do have to watch the final round at my Parents’ house with my Dad.
I’m giving him No Country For Old Men on DVD for Father's Day because I think he will like it; I’m giving him an afternoon of watching Phil and Tiger at the US Open because it will be his day and it’s a nice gift to give someone who has already bought in.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
More Dodger Hating
By Josh Elwell
After watching Randy Wolf blaze through the Dodgers’ lineup last night, it’s only appropriate to remind everyone how bad this team actually is. Oh, and I have no reservations providing a critique of the Dodgers, as an unabashed Padre fan. You, the reader, shouldn’t either.
When Dodgers GM Ned Colletti was asked whether or not he would deal any of his core youngsters for ‘proven veteran strength,’ his response was: “If we get to the point where we can definitively improve ourselves, we'll do it." Thanks, Captain Obvious! Corporal Duh! Major No Shit! The only problem I see is that trading highly sought after young players is rarely the way to “definitively improve” your team.
Matt Kemp, Andre Ethier, and James Loney could all be monsters within the next two years. Patience, Ned, patience. There’s a reason L.A. hasn’t won more than one playoff game in the past 20 years and it has to do with one thing: veterans. (Okay, maybe a few other things, but for the sake of this article -- one thing only!)
Let's face it, the Dodgers have a great team on paper every year, and every year they fall short. History has taught me not to worry about the Dodgers being a true competitor. On paper they look fine, because they load themselves with overpaid veterans. Juan Pierre, Andruw Jones, Nomar Garciaparra and Jeff Kent are just a few of the names deluding Dodger fans enough to think they’re capable of winning the pennant.
For Colletti to think he needs another overpriced veteran is silly. That’s the only word that describes it -- silly. L.A. fans are impatient and want to see quick results. As a Padre fan, spending ridiculous amounts of money on players is a foreign concept to me. My idea of a big trade is Josh Barfield for Kevin Kouzmanoff & Andrew Brown -- with Brown being flipped for Milton Bradley. A big signing is when Greg Maddux signs for the last contract of his career.
Comparing the two mentalities, I’d rather have the mid-market moves of Alderson & co. Not only do multiple big contracts give a fan false hopes, it sets your team back if the player is a flop. (See Jones, Andruw. And Garciaparra, Nomar.)
My hope is that the little moves the Padres make can pay off big in the future. Sure, it may take awhile, but rebuilding a team is a big process and the Padres have never had the luxury of rebuilding with that many resources. The question for Ned Colletti shouldn’t be which young guys to get rid of; it should be which expensive contracts should be dumped.
If you have any question about which mentality serves a team best, ask yourself this question: Which of the two was the last team to make the World Series? Oh yeah, the Padres. Bite me.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Milton Bradley Is Hitting 338 With 14 HRs and 45 RBIs For The Rangers
By Nick McCann
Do you think we should have signed The Board Game in the off season, even though he predictably melted down last season and torn his own ACL (I was there, sitting on the first base side; he did it to himself)?
Jody Gerut and Scott Hairston are combined to be the poor man's Mike Cameron, who-at the point in his career with the Padres-was the poor man's Mark Kotsay, who was the poor man's Steve Finley. Milton Bradley, who can play all positions in the outfield, could have at least been as effective this year as Finley was in 1998 (let's not forget what happened after that. Normally, it would be great to have a guy who cool enough to try to steal a glove from Derek Jeter while being on the same team, but we all know how things turned out when Kevin Towers thought Steve Finley was the poor man's Ruben Rivera).
Mike Cameron was a speed freak who struck out too much (apparently, speed is the poor man's cocaine) and Milton Bradley was just a train wreck passing through. Both players didn't exhibit the qualities that the Padres look for in their players. I guess this is fair, but Bradley is one hot month away from being a serious triple crown threat and Jody Gerut and Scott Hairston are looking like they will eventually fade away into the Padres' former forgettable player abyss. They might end up being the poor man's Jay Payton, but who the hell is that?
I Think This Says It All
By Joe Chandler
Adrian Gonzalez has a much thicker goatee than Edgar Gonzalez. That sums it up nicely.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
This Is Not Creative...I Hate The Dodgers.
By Nick McCann
This week’s series against the LA Dodgers is going to be the most important series of the year. The Pads just swept the Mets and are currently the hottest team in the NL West. Thankfully, this is coming at a time where the division leader, the Diamondbacks, are declining and showing their youth.
Like the last few seasons, the NL West has become a tight race, and this mid week at home series against the evil boys in blue, is the Padres’ best chance to save this roller coaster of a season and regain the interest and support of the Padre faithful.
Tonight, LA fans that attend the game at Petco will be distracted by the results of the Lakers’ game, and Padre fans who understand their duty to get drunk and fight back at all costs, can use this fact to their advantage.
Afterall, this guy will be at the game and he will never believe Kobe ever did anything wrong in Colorado:
A vulnerable Dodger fan is exactly what we need at this point in the season. They will be confident when they know the Lakers are winning, because they can make themselves believe that it doesn’t matter if the Dodgers win; they will believe they are on their way to another NBA ring. In the same way it was easier for Boston fans to deal with their Super bowl loss because it was right after the Red Sox won the World Series, Dodger fans will use their success in their other major sport to dull the pain of being associated with Andruw Jones.
Remember, these are disgusting human beings who draw wisdom from this retard:
Is Magic Johnson really going to out live that son of bitch?
Go KG! Go Pads! Go Don Rickles!
Monday, June 9, 2008
Missing Orange
By Josh Elwell
Sitting at my family’s house, winding down a day of graduation festivities for my sister, I’m surrounded by orange. It’s her favorite color and Mrs. Elwell went all out to make everything match accordingly. But on a day where we completed an impressive four game sweep of the Mets – it’s been a haunting color. As excited as I am for the newfound momentum going into this week’s Dodger series, I still miss having orange as the uniform’s secondary color, as opposed to sandy beige matching the navy blue.
Orange reminds me of 1998, when we had a team truly capable of winning the World Series. It reminds me of the better, and much more aesthetically pleasing days.
Leaving Qualcomm was easy, because Petco is a baseball lover’s paradise. Leaving the navy blue and orange wasn’t so easy, because the Petco-flavored, navy blue and beige is Kevin Towers’ paradise. (This is ignoring the sad outlier that is Sunday home game, military jerseys.)
Okay, I’m stopping right there with the pessimisity (much more fun of a word than pessimism). As disappointed as I’ve been in KT this year - his team is currently kicking major, corporal ass.
After setting a slightly underwhelming record of winning four straight, 2-1 scored baseball games, the ‘navy-beige‘ team pulled off a not-so-underwhelming comeback that left me excited for what else is to come.
Brian Giles is reinventing himself as a dependable table-setter; he’s no longer a power threat, but he’s getting on base for Adrian Gonzalez. (Gonzalez, by the way, is on pace for 43 HR’s & 142 RBI’s…wait, and he’s a Padre?)
And our pitching staff has been refreshingly consistent; with Jake Peavy coming back to the mound on Thursday, it should remain that way.
The low-note of the week was Tadahito Iguchi joining Peavy, Chris Young, Josh Bard and 57 relief pitchers on the DL. Adrian’s little brother, Edgar Gonzalez, has been filling in well, but Iguchi’s 0 errors and 1.000% fielding isn’t easy to come by at 2B.
Again, I’m stopping right there, this week has been too good to be pessimistic.
But I do miss the orange. No question. The beige is just…beige. It represents blandness; orange represents life and fruits of the spirit - all of that exciting Biblical jargon. No pessimism intended for the ‘blue and beige,’ just sentiments and recalled optimism for the orange.
Sentiments dreaming of the ‘90s, where orange treated the team well; navy ‘bleige’ only treated the team to 4 seasons that ended disappointingly below expectations. These were seasons where the team tried to be like the A’s and Twins, who thrive in spite of low payrolls. In a year that may serve as the finale for a gaggle of overpaid veterans, maybe we’re getting closer to that model after all.
But until we do find post-season success with this new, 4-year-old mismatch of colors, it will continue to represent failed promises.
And until that changes: I’ll continue missing the orange.
Friday, June 6, 2008
A Great Show Coming Up
If you like The Kept Faith, be sure to check this out. Call (858) 699-1894 for reservations or visit www.myspace.com/thegeeseshow for more info.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Going In Together
By Nick McCann
Last night Greg Maddux managed to pitch seven innings on 69 pitches. Even though he didn’t get his 351st victory, he did put on a clinic for how all pitchers should pitch when they are over 40. Keeping the pitch count low is obviously beneficial for any pitcher in any situation, but when you could be the dad of the guy standing at the plate and you feel like your arm is going to fall off after playing in three decades in the major leagues, a ground ball out is like a cool refreshing glass of Ensure. Besides, going for the power strikeout that late in your career is basically like being the old guy with a ponytail who shouldn’t be at the club.
Yesterday-before Maddux took the mound-the big story in baseball was that Alanta Brave pitcher John Smoltz was going to have to undergo season ending shoulder surgery. Along with Tom Glavine, Smoltz and Maddux, are all Hall of Fame pitchers that made up arguably the most successful starting rotation of the modern era: The Braves in 90s.
With Smoltz naturally thinking about retirement, this obviously leaves Glavine and Maddux in an interesting situation: If it is done for Smoltz, should they keep pitching next year or should they all retire at the same time so that they can go into the Hall of Fame together?
It has always been pretty clear that these guys are all good friends and completely comfortable being linked together in their legacies. If it is over for Smoltz, Glavine and Maddux, who can’t possibly pitch past next season, might be wise to hang it up as well.
In five years, Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens will be up for induction into the hall and it will surely rekindle the steroid circus that has been baseball’s subtext the last few seasons. If Smoltz, Glavine, and Maddux-three pitchers that have never been suspected of using performance enhancers-go in the following year, it could be the perfect public step forward towards real closure (the Mitchell Report was a like a bad fart joke told by an open miker at the Comedy store who just blew Pauly Shore in the bathroom to get a gig opening for Dat Phan). Essentially, it would be a moment where the good guys win.
Last night Greg Maddux showed that he could still be more than effective at the major league level. He is the greatest fielding pitcher of all time and he will likely end up with the most wins of any pitcher of his generation. Even though it sounds insane to decide when you should finish your career based on planning a weekend in up state New York five years later, the Baseball Hall Of Fame is still relevant, and the symbolic pageantry still lasts forever.
Regardless if Maddux, Smoltz, and Glavine go in together, when Bonds and Clemens are up for enshrinement, there has to be a sequel to this commercial (besides the lame Padre promo released this year):
Hopefully, chicks dig first ballot dudes too.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Back To The Draft
By Josh Elwell
Before the Celtics beat the shit out of the Lakers, let’s recognize what tomorrow will also mark the beginning of: the draft. In case you’re not yet a regular reader of Paul DePodesta’s blog, I’m taking the opportunity to comment on some of the nuggets he’s been tossing out this week, in regards to baseball’s draft.
Here’s Paul: “Unfortunately, we're missing our primary source of comic relief this year, as our premier joke teller, Joe Bochy, is now one of our professional scouts and consequently is absent from the draft room. I'm not sure anybody in baseball tells a joke quite like Joe (yes, he is Bruce's brother).”
Here are some of the jokes I imagine coming from joke machine, Joe Bochy, filled with Joe’s classic post-joke noises:
“Johnny Kratnoff! Johnny Kratnoff! You can’t possibly be serious about drafting Johnny Kratnoff!? The kid has a future of riding the bench more than I rode Bruce’s wife last Thanksgiving. HEYYYYYYA!”
Kevin Towers leaves the room. Joe places a whoopee cushion on his chair. Kevin comes back and sits on it. It sounds like he farted. “WOO!”
Last, but not least:
Joe – The kid’s repped by Scott Boras? Scott Boras! I’d prefer it if his name were Scott BORAT! Verrrrrry niiiiiiiice.
(Kevin Towers chokes on his McDonald’s French fries.)
Kevin – AH, stop it, Joe! You’re killing us, and we got work to do.
Paul – Seriously, cut this shit out. How are we supposed to get work done with you nailing Borat impressions?
Joe – HIGH-FIVE!
So, there it is, my idea of baseball humor on draft day.
When Joe’s not cracking him up, Paul finds time to mention some of their strategy in drafting. As I noted last week, unlike football and basketball, baseball doesn’t have the luxury of drafting for immediate needs. This forces them to go after organizational needs. Even with Adrian Gonzalez raking at 1B, if the minor league teams have no one at the position – that’s the area they go after. Since there’s Kyle Blanks and a few other guys there, no need to worry about that. What does need to be worried about is the following:
SS
When Khalil Greene opts to get closer to the Baha’i main temple in Chicago after next year, no one will be ready to replace him. DePodesta mentions that the Padres main strategy this year is to draft the best talent available, instead of specific positions. Unless they have some grand plan of signing Rafael Furcal for 10 years after this season, a SS better be at the top of their list.
AVG
Bottom-line is that the Padres need hitters who hit for a high AVG and/or can draw a walk. It’s no use going for power, because Petco will suck all that power out. Which is why Khalil Greene will enter the second-half of his career as one of baseball’s top SS sluggers, after he gets away from Petco.
Give a Padres fan a break and forget about defense, pitchers with control and everything else that’s keeping us mediocre. Give us an exciting SS and guys who can hit for average. Please. Oh, and a Joe Bochy comedy album – that’s the priority.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
A Saturday at The Mall
By Nick McCann
It is not a good idea to sit in a parked car in the Mission Valley Center parking garage at 11:30am on a Saturday morning, smoke pot, and listen to The Mighty 1090 after walking out of a movie that was a complete disgrace to your childhood.
For me, when the Boston Celtics clinched the NBA Eastern Conference Championship on Friday night, things changed. Whether I deserved it or not, that night, sports gave me something back: Lakers/Celtics on the biggest stage possible. Because sports are important to my decision-making process (that shouldn’t be true), Boston’s victory allowed me to finally be able to see Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of The Crystal Skull. I figured that if sports were giving me the 80s back, I should at least give Dr. Jones and the 80s, a shot.
After 45 minutes, and that ridiculous Atomic Bomb garbage (if you haven’t seen it, trust me, this confusion is easier to deal with), I went back to my car, sat, and started furiously pounded my dashboard. I was completely convinced that because of the disappointing movie, the NBA finals were going to be a 4-0 sweep in either favor (as a San Diegan, I root for the best NBA drama over any team).
Then, I decided to get high by smoking weed out of a ridiculous glass pipe my hippie ex-neighbor gave me. After freaking out about my retna's reflection in my rear view mirror, I chose to listen to losers call into a radio station that provides softball sports coverage, and Ted Leitner commercials for his favorite local divorce law firm, Kerry Steigerwalt’s Pacific Law Center.
Kids, say no to drugs. More importantly, know when to say no to yourself.
After listening to some idiot bitch about Trevor Hoffman’s performance this year on a day after Trevor hadn’t done anything wrong, Leitner’s recent Pacific Law Center spot came on at the same time when I rolled down my window to let smoke exit out of my car in front of a security guard, who saw it, but didn’t give a shit.
According to Ted (that is the working title for the first and last Kept Faith sitcom developed using my THC soaked brain), divorce sucks and you should always have good representation. For Leitner (that is the title for the next Tim Flannery record that my THC soaked brain needed to hear at that moment), the late 80s and the early 90s will never be over. He is the type of guy who had a decade of his life where he kicked more ass than he ever should have (see: Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy in five years). His prime was being the voice/face/comic relief of a sports community that only had his corny jokes about hockey to smile about from about 1986 to 1995. Essentially, current Padre color guy/salesman of all things local, Mark Grant, has now moved in on Leitner’s market and destroyed him as a man (THC soaked brain speculation).
However, the fascinating thing about Ted Leitner’s divorce commercial is that his “creepy drunk fun uncle” personality works really well when he admits that he has been through it three times and that he knows who can help you if you end up like him. His trademark media persona sounds nice on the surface, but it leaves you thinking sure, this guy totally gets divorced once or twice a decade. If I were going through that hell, he would know a good lawyer. Who cares if that lawyer has a fucked up lazy eye?
This season will always be remembered as the season where Trevor Hoffman lost it. It started with the end of last season, and because the Pads don’t really have a legitimate replacement, Trevor will probably be forced to tough it out until (A) he gets injured (B) he pulls an amazing Orel Hershiser move and retires on the mound when the manager is talking to him or (C) he makes the personal decision to step down for the sake of the team and take a lesser role, forcing Hells Bells to go back to where it belongs: bar fights in Lakeside.
Trevor Hoffman is not Ted Leitner, but there is something to Ted’s ability to accept what he is and make the best of it. Ted was always kind of a joke, and now he is selling the fact that women can’t live with that joke for an extended length of time. On the other hand, Trevor has always been looked at as the classiest stand up teammate, and now he might be holding on too long to a successful past that was over in the second half of last season.
The only way Trevor can significantly add to his legacy at this point is if he publicly decides to never close again. This would be the ultimate selfless move a player in his position could make, and it would allow him to ride off into the sunset as the greatest teammate in Padre history.
On Saturday, I walked out of Indiana Jones because I didn’t want to see him stumble his way to finding the Crystal Skull. On Sunday, I wanted to divorce myself from having to depend on Trevor Hoffman at the end of a 3-1 away game in San Francisco. Sadly, even Ted Leitner and his Lazy Eyed attorney can’t help me.
When I was done killing brain cells in my car alone, I walked back to the shops upstairs and went searching for the perfect purple Padre hat. I was trying to make the best of a messed up Saturday by trying to be something I was not. Like Trevor, I was trying to save something that I couldn’t save.
Kids, say no to drugs. More importantly, know when to leave the mall.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Closers Close; Starters Start
By Josh Elwell
It seems like a relatively simple concept: closer close games, and starters start games. Yesterday, Padre fans found out it’s actually not that simple; Trevor Hoffman & Mark Prior made it very clear.
For the third time this year, at 40 years of age, Trevor Hoffman showed us he’s incapable of closing a game. At the same time, the Padres showed us their incapable of consistently winning baseball games…because of Trevor Hoffman. These 3 blown saves are coupled with 2 individual losses that have resulted in a beautiful ERA closing in on 6. Rally killer, sweep stopper, dream hater – call Trevor whatever you want, just don’t call him a lights out closer, because he officially ended that era when he let Tony Gwynn, Jr. ruin our 2007. (Another reason why the Gwynn’s hate San Diego.)
Okay, to take a break for a second, I want to write about a dream I had last night. It involved me being at work, injuring every bone in my body, and being fired. Afterwards, I got hired by another company for one million dollars to come hang out and have surgeries. It was awesome. I woke up and realized - THIS IS MARK PRIOR’S LIFE. The Cubs released him because his body is weaker than Hoffman’s reliability on the mound, and in true Friar fashion, KT signed him for a million dollars. Yesterday, it was announced he’d have season ending surgery. Beautiful, that’s just fucking beautiful. He’s being made a millionaire for sitting at home (figuratively) and watching games that are instead being started by guys who belong in AAA, or the bullpen.
Back to Hoffman: Do I think he should be released? No. I can’t sit here and ignore what he’s done for the team, and what he’s capable of as a normal reliever. He’s still being paid $10,000,000 and it’s not like an Edmonds-style collapse he’s going through. With the new-look bullpen giving me fond memories of last year’s solid ragtag team, there must be someone who gives us reliability. And no, I’m not convinced Heath Bell is any better in high-pressure situations. Push Trevor back to 5th inning clean up and call it a day. How great would it be to hear Hell’s Bells when Randy Wolf can’t get out of the 5th inning because he just gave up 4 runs and Trevor needs to come in to get a single out? I want that.
For Mark Prior, it isn’t so simple. San Diego owes him shit. My vote for our new mayor will be given solely on whoever extradites Prior to Fresno. “It’s not his fault.” “How could he know?” “He tried his best.” Blah, blah, blah. God clearly hates him, and that’s good enough for me.
Not that he’s even taking up space on the roster, being on the 60 day DL, but I still want him released. Save the dignity for guys like Trevor and simply release this hack. I’m sure he’ll go onto a lucrative career elsewhere…because that’s what non-Padre baseball players do.
There it is. Trevor’s a closer who can’t close - so don’t let him. Prior’s a starter who doesn’t start – get him out of San Diego. Two problems, two solutions. My work is done.