Category Archives: Baseball

Baseball

Famous Last Words, A Decade in Advance

As I’ve noted on this site many times, I’m starved for baseball right now. So I’ve been watching some of the All-Time Games on the MLB Network, even though their listings and what they actually show don’t always jive.

F’rinstance, on Saturday, the cable guide said they’d show the Mets’ home opener from 1985 (which Gary Carter won with a walk-off homer in his NY debut). But they showed Tom Seaver’s 200th victory instead. Which was a fine alternatvie, except that Tom Terrific looked extremely strange in that hideous 80s White Sox uniform.

On Sunday, they showed a Tigers/Yankees game from 1976, where Mark “The Bird” Fidrych started for Detroit. I’d always heard that The Bird was a maniac who alternately delighted and annoyed crowds with his mound antics. But this sample from his only good season didn’t provide anything too exciting, at least to my eyes. Maybe people were more excitable back in them days.

What really piqued my interest were the pregame introductions. Each member of the two teams stated their name, position, and hometown, as is routinely done in nationally televised football games these days.

When they got to Yankees skipper Billy Martin, he said “Born Berkeley, California, died New York.”

Both Billy and the camera crew laughed heartily at this. Viewed with historical perspective, this statement is either eerily prophetic or possessed of the kind of doomed gallows humor found in most Alcoholic Literature (see: Under the Volcano, A Fan’s Notes).

It floored me so much that I wanted to rewind it, tape it, and post it to YouTube. And then I remembered that MLB is a total dick when it comes to posting video. So you’ll have to take my word for it. Or watch the game when they rerun it, which I’m sure they’ll do 900 times or so.

Baseball

Submit to the Guild of Calamitous Intent!

guild.jpgAfter taking a one-year hiatus from running a fantasy league (though not playing in them, I assure you), I have decided to don my commissioner’s cap once again. Not only that, but I shall allow you, the Scratchbomb reader, to join said league: The Guild of Calamitous Intent! (Which will be its name until Doc Hammer and Jackson Publick sue me.)

It will be a head-to-head league via Yahoo, who I’ve found to be reliable in fantasy matters in the past (unlike some other sites). We’ll have a live online draft; it’s currently scheduled for the evening of Monday 3/16, but we can adjust that date/time if it proves difficult for any potential participants.

Right now, The Guild is a 12-team league, and slots are given out on a first-come-first-serve basis, so act fast. Already, The Wife has joined, as has Skitch Hanson (although I’m going to have to talk to him about his team’s unfortunate name).

If you’re interested in joining the fray, comment on this post and I will send yez an invite. THEN PREPARE TO BE DOMINATED ON YOUR FACE.

Baseball, Pointless Nostalgia

Shea Shea, Blown Away, What More Do I Have to Say?

Pour some criminally overpriced Bud Lite on the curb tonight for Shea Stadium, which officially ceased to exist earlier this morning.

I’ll miss the dump, don’t get me wrong. I saw my first baseball game there, and saw some incredible games there (both in the good and bad senses of the word), but I am more than ready to see games at Bernie Madoff Field.

My only fear is that the fan experience won’t be enhanced at all. Because the aesthetic deficiencies of Shea were only part of the reason why it was not a great place to watch a game. You judged your game-going experience by how few things went wrong. It was a successful day if your beer wasn’t 90% foam, or if you didn’t watch a vendor sigh and huff because you asked them for a pretzel.

Sure, the new ballpark is supposed to have spiffy restaurants, games for the kiddies, and other neat amenities. But that won’t mean much if said amenities are run by the same incompetent, apathetic morons who ran Shea’s concessions.

It’s not that I need extra bells and whistles to enjoy a game. I’d watch the Mets in the middle of an active volcano if that’s where they played. However, I don’t think it’s too much to ask that, when you pay a lot of money to enter a ballpark, your customer service experience should never be described by words like “insane,” “frustrating,” and “ordeal.”

If you want a glimpse as to how the Mets treat their fans, look no further than Jason of Faith and Fear and Flushing, and the condition of the genuine Shea seats he ordered. That’s how the team treats treasured memorabilia bought by loyal fans at $869 a pop. You can extrapolate from there how they treat folks who spend a mere $15-20 dollars for a hot dog and a beer.