New Site Update: Don’t bother clicking on any of them YouTube links below, ‘cuz they ain’t gonna work. This post is here for historic purposes only. I’m hoping to get the non-baseball stuff reposted at some point, but there’s so much stuff to do here that I would not hold my breath.
Update 02.16.07: Deadspin gave a shoutout to this post, which was quite awesome of them. Unfortunately, I think that attention attracted the decidedly unawesome attention of MLB Advanced Media, who sent me a copyright infringement notice via YouTube. I totally understand that we have to respect MLB’s intellectual rights. After all, I wouldn’t want to interfere with the inevitable theatrical release and DVD transfer of a spring training preview from 19-friggin-88. *sigh*
The Wife wants it on record that she said MLB would crack the whip on me. I doubted her. “Why the eff would MLB give two shits about a spring training preview from 19 years ago?” She is less naïve than I, I suppose. Mea culpa.
Long story short, I’m afraid I had to remove said video clips. I’ve left the rest of the post as is so you can imagine the anachronistic hilarity. Also, the old ads are still viewable, as long as no one rats on me to the Gibraltar singer with the White Afro.
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I find the days following a big snowstorm to be worse than the actually event. The roads are a mess and they’re filled with angry, dirty piles of plowed snow. You need a canoe to cross most intersections thanks to the enormous lakes of smashed melted snow that ebb at every street corner. And everyone in the city is really pissed off. Usually, you think a sweaty day is the kind that gets folks all hot and bothered. But climes like this can be just as bad for the collective mood. After you’ve been smashed against a thousand other dripping, angry commuters on the bus and/or train, you’re just as ready to start a fistfight as you’d be during an August heat wave.
No matter. My thoughts are warm, because pitchers and catchers have
started to report to Florida. I’m also told that there are some insane
teams that train in Arizona. I can neither confirm nor deny this.
On Friday, the Mets will be in Port St. Lucie (at least the ones that pitch and catch) and we will be that much closer to Opening Day. An Opening Day when the team will have to watch the 83-win Cardinals get their World Series rings. Hopefully, that will get their blood boiling to set up an ’86-like rampage through the National League. I don’t ask for much from the universe, but can Jose Reyes’ first hit of the year be a line drive off of Albert Pujols’ knee? Or at least Scott Spiezio’s chin-snatch? I thank you in advance, unseen powers.
Soon I can read online articles about actual games, not panicky diatribes about why the Mets should have given Gil Meche a 6 year/$75 million deal just so they’d have an “established” pitcher on their rotation. Most of this year’s class of free agent hurlers were “established” only in the sense that they’ve pitched for years and it’s been established
that they suck.
The Mets should’ve upgraded their rotation, but it would’ve meant either trading away young arms like Pelfrey and Humber, or grossly overpaying for somebody like Jeff Suppan. Mark my words: Omar Minaya is going to look mighty smart in a year or two when all these other teams have gigundo contracts for the likes of Ted Lilly hanging around their necks like albatrosses.
But enough prognostication. To celebrate the impending baseball season, my posts over the next few weeks will treat you to some nostalgia-riffic video clips from yesteryear. Today, we look at a preview of the 1988 season. This is from an old VHS tape I have, one that my brothers and I watched a million times because said tape also had a recording of “Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure”. (Aside from the first Batman movie and possibly “Edward Scissorhands”, Tim Burton has yet to top this in his cinematic resume. Dispute me at your own peril. The screenplay was written by Phil Hartman–what more do you want from a film?!)
The very beginning of this special was cut off, so I’m not 100% sure who produced it. Based simply on the fact that it’s narrated by Mel Allen, I assume it was made by the “This Week In Baseball” crew. So there isn’t too much probing analysis or criticism. Just good ol’ Mel telling us the finer points of each team, and how even losers like the Indians can look forward to a fun-filled season. Mel Allen could narrate footage of the Bataan Death March and make it sound cheery.
Despite the “everything’s great” approach, you do get some glimpses of stars in less guarded moments, the kind of stuff that would never be broadcast nowadays, or would never be said in front of a camera in an age when all pro athletes are sent to Media School and drilled on the finer points of making bland, inoffensive non-statements. (I believe this
school is called Derek Jeter University.) The funniest guy of the bunch is Pirates outfielder Andy Van Slyke, quite witty and deadpan.
First up, a brief history of spring training. I particularly like Charles Brown’s explanation of spring training’s “real” roots (at 1:24), and Mel’s knowing chuckle. Also of interest are early glimpses of the Mets’ (then) new facility in Port St. Lucie, and Reds owner Marge Schott opening up her team’s new stadium while somehow not letting a horribly racist statement slip from her mouth.
In the following segment, various players are asked who’d they like to see as president. (1988 was an election year, you see.) I’m not sure who the douche-nozzle is who wants to vote for Ollie North yet can’t remember his name. (Suggestions are welcomed; based on his workout togs, he appears to play for the Dodgers.) Also a mystery to me: who the Cardinal is who fears that Bill Lee will turn the White House into a Mexican restaurant, and if that statement is racist or just a bizarre non-sequitir. On a similarly bizarre tip, Roger Clemens says he’d vote for Charlie Brown. For years, I found this endearing, since I loved “Peanuts” as a kid. This was before I realized that Clemens was/is an insufferable, mercenery prick.
Here’s a few players weighing in on the “new strike zone”. Before the 1988 season, the upper reaches of the strike zone were redefined to include what’s now referred to as “letter-high”. It’s quite amusing to see a morbidly obese umpire try to explain the “new” strike zone to a young Harold Reynolds, then see Hal interpreting it for his Mariner teammates, none of whom look like they could give two shits about it. I think Hal might owe the guy right in front of him some money; that’s the only explanation for the Hateful Death Stare his teammate gives him.
Next, players are asked who’d they’d pay to see play. The overwhelming favorites: Don Mattingly and Eric Davis. Remember when Eric Davis was The Second Coming? And remember when a Don Mattingly rookie card was like a cool mil in the bank? Simpler times, my friends. There are also a few smart ass responses from Van Slyke and others.
Tommy Lasorda, motivator of men. Here he sarcastically goads veteran catcher Rick Dempsey into guiding a pitcher “through the wilderness”. So in case it was unclear, Tommy Lasorda = huge prick. Not convinced? Peep this audio nugget.
Just to represent how different the leagues were back then, here’s a summary of the NL East. The Mets are coming off of a disappointing year, when injury and drugs killed their chances to repeat. And of course, Darryl Strawberry was mouthing off about something that spring as usual–he was pretty much the Terrell Owens of his day. The defending NL Champs’ big pickup: The legendary Bob Horner, back from the Yakult Swallows and as curly-cued as ever. Watch as the Pirates excitedly celebrate finishing in a tie for fourth place, and a young Barry Bonds dreams of future success. Watch Mike Schmidt totally put the burden of his team’s success on newly acquired catcher Lance Parrish. Watch the Cubs get weirded out by the scary thought of–gasp!–night games. And watch the Expos have an insane amount of hubris because no one expected them to finish third in 1987.
On to the AL East, where the big powerhouse teams at the time were the Tigers and the Blue Jays (no, really). The Yankees at this time were amazingly talented (Mattingly, Rickey Henderson, Dave Winfield, a young Al Leiter) but just as amazingly dysfunctional. The Bombers’ latest free agent bust was Jack Clark, who, by the time this special aired, had already torn a calf tendon while rounding the bases after hitting a home run in a spring training game. Yankees fans younger than myself can’t remember there was once a time when everything the team touched turned to shit. Here, friends, is the evidence.
This segment is supposed to show players getting testy with the media. And they do, but the testiness doesn’t seem playful at all–most of these players look as if they want to murder their unseen interviewers. Whitey Herzog just gives up and walks away. Classy.
Special bonuses: I’m a nut for old commercials (old = anything I saw when I was a kid). This Aqua Velva ad was legendary in my house. Not because we loved Dick Butkus or anything like that. But my father despised his children’s table manners. Whenever we did something like talk with our mouths full of food or stick our hands into the tub of butter, he’d mutter Savages! to himself. So whenever we saw this ad, and the chick at the end would say “You savage!”, we’d lose it. I realize this probably means nothing to the general public. You had to be there, I suppose, and also have had an insanely intolerant father.
I don’t remember this ad for Maaco that well. But it cracks me up, the family getting dressed like they’re going to some crazy costume ball. And then a guy in a yellow satin jacket screams at them for having a piece of shit car. With a bullhorn. Amazing.
They don’t make cheesy commercials like this Gibraltar ad anymore. And there is a very good reason.