Filed under: Baseball | Tags: Baseball, cheater, Dodgers, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Los Angeles Dodgers, Manny, Manny Ramirez
Gabriel Garcia Marquez in his novella Chronicle of a Death Foretold, tells the story of a reporter returning to his hometown to investigate a 20 year old murder. It was not a cold case, the murderers had been caught at the scene, so why investigate it? The novella seeks to make sense not out of the crime itself but rather the circumstances that allowed it. The murder was an honor murder, a murder committed by two brothers against her lover, who was not her husband but honor is not the theme, societal complicity is. It was societal complicity that allowed and, in some respects, demanded this murder. It was society that aided and abetted the murderers and society that acted as their accomplices.
Today, Manny Ramirez returns to the Dodger lineup after having served his 50 game suspension for violating the MLB performance enhancing drug policy. I could sit here and rant and rave about the ills of steroids and how they have destroyed the integrity of the game but every asshole with an Internet connection will be doing that today. Instead I would like to talk about how this is, in a way, our fault. Yes, us, the fans. We have a part in all of this and it is not a small one. We were accomplices in this because we looked the other way while unassailable records were left in the dust. Records that we all thought were untouchable were shattered and we simply said “Chicks dig the long ball.” Pitchers over the age of 40 made big league hitters look like minor leaguers and we all championed strength and conditioning coaches, pitch counts and weight programs. We all cited the new, smaller ballparks, the year round conditioning and any other reason we could find except the one that looked us straight in the face. Guys were juicing and not a few of them either.
It has been our complicity that has allowed Barry to break the record, Clemens to win Cy Young awards, A-Rod to wow us and Manny to pull the wool over our eyes. In my rage against steroids I have found myself casting about for someone to blame, someone to throw this at the foot of. It’s Don Fehr’s fault or Bud Selig, it’s Bond’s fault or Clemens, it’s Manny’s or A-Rod’s and that is all true. But that is not the whole truth, that is simply the convenient one. That is the version that allows all of us to cast the first stone and stand on the moral high ground. The problemis that we aren’t standing on hallowed ground, we are standing on shaky ground. We aided and abetting these men. We were complicit in this crime and that makes us all accomplices. Today we all return from suspension and so the next time a positive test comes out let’s not be shocked, let’s not cast our eyes upon the unclean and bemoan the state of our game. Let us look at ourselves and recognize our own complicity and instead of casting aspersions and feeling superior, let’s band together and fix our game. Let’s restore the national pastime to its former glory and never let this happen again.
-dodgerdave
I don’t enjoy watching Randy Wolf pitch. It is not personal, I don’t know Randy Wolf and I have never heard a bad word against him but I don’t like to watch him pitch. This has bothered me for quite some time, not the what but the why. Why don’t I like to watch Randy Wolf pitch? And it occurred to me earlier today; the reason I don’t like to watch him pitch is that his pitching lacks poetry. It is not that Randy Wolf isn’t graceful or a good athlete. His mechanics are solid, and his pitches have good movement and he is a pitcher, not a thrower, but he has no poetry. When Randy Wolf pitches I do not see a man fighting his demons or on some sort of quest to overcome his shortcomings; I see a man who is doing his job. I see a man who goes to work and that is not worthy of the great game of baseball.
In our time, man is a slave to the corporate machine; we live in a world where everybody is depressed and/or has ADD or ADHD. Where our attention span has dwindled to such an extent that we can’t pay attention to our loved ones. A time when most of are too stupidass lazy to raise our hands and choose those who would lead us. A time when we all tune in to however many TV stations we can get beamed into our homes; a time when most of us don’t bother to make up our own minds, we just let let Glenn Beck, or Charlie Gibson or Sean Hannity tell us what we should think, never mind the why. Mark my words friends, Wal-Mart will rule the world. Our time is a not a cynical one as so many of us are fond of saying; they are not cynical because cynicism requires thought, our time is an apathetic one. In all aspects of our society man is devoid of poetry, not because he wants to be but because he doesn’t know that he needs poetry. He doesn’t know that poetry is lifeblood, it stirs in our loins and drives us to rise up against our lesser angels. I don’t mean poetry in the sense of Emily Dickinson or Wallace Stevens, I mean poetry in the sense of man confronting and transcending his own condition. Poetry is what causes us to rise up and say “Enough”! Poetry is what causes us to forsake that which is easy for that which is right. Poetry is what gives us the strength to carry on through the bitter winter because poetry tells us that spring will come, no matter how cold the night or how deep the snow, the flowers will bloom again.
To live a life without poetry is what most of us are consigned to do because the machine has broken our society to such an extent that we cannot afford to entertain our own friends, let alone poetry. However, there are a few places that the machine does not own and one of those places is baseball. The machine cannot break into baseball. It can encircle it with $100 seats and $7 hot dogs. It can bombard it with ads and corporate logos but it cannot penetrate the game itself because the machine cannot penetrate something that is pure. It is not that it cannot defile and rape those things which are beautiful because it can. What it cannot do is penetrate that which it does not understand, the computers can’t run the equation and what the machine does not understand is purity. Baseball is not mostly or made up of purity, it is purity. The game is not for sale and that is why it cannot be bought or forced to submit to the machine. However that does not mean that it cannot be played by those who have submitted and bowed before the machine. What the machine needs to function is submission, it needs people who just go to work. I don’t pretend to know if Randy Wolf is one of these but it seems to me like he might be and that is why I don’t enjoy watching him pitch.
We must have poetry if we are to weather the machine age and baseball is where I find it.
-dodgerdave
Filed under: Baseball, No dh | Tags: Baseball, Dodgers, Interleague Play, Los Angeles, No dh
Interleague play, perhaps the worst idea in baseball since the 1975 Chicago White Sox tried Bermuda shorts instead of pants (it happened, look it up). I despise interleague play with a passion that is real and fervent. Who in the hell wants to watch the Mariners and the Padres? (Or the Mariners or the Padres for that matter?) Baseball, as a game, is largely untouchedover the past 100 years. The rules are essentially the same, the bases are the same distance, we have more teams and more divisions, we have a wild card now (I didn’t think it would work but it has and I actually like it). However, I draw the line at interleague play! Enough is enough. I could truly give a damn about what some network executive thinks would be a “neat” idea or the next brilliant idea from Alan H. “Bud” Selig, the same man who brought you home field advantage in the World Series determined by the All-Star game a.k.a. the Red Sox and Yankees against the Cubs (sorry Bryan, but it’s true, Cubs fans are the NL equivalent of BoSox fans).
To think that my Dodgers would have to stoop to the level of going to Disneyland; sorry, I mean to play the Angels in Anaheim. To have to insert a DH into the lineup, to have play on the same field as AL swine, to have to listen to the cheers of people who think that the pitcher still having to bat, a.k.a. play baseball, as a quaint idea. Interleague play destroys the integrity of the game. For 90+ years one of the things that made baseball unique was the fact that it was impossible for the two teams that played each other in the World Series to have met in the regular season. Now, that is no more. Having to watch the Dodgers play in an AL stadium by their rules is like having to listen to listen to Bach or Mozart, or the Stones or Zeppelin (Steven Kellog and the Sixers accepted) on the Kazoo. But alas Bud didn’t ask me, he asked the masses and the networks. These are the same people that brought you “Survivor” and Britney Spears, so clearly, they are an enlightened and brilliant group capable of great vision and foresight. So I propose a new amendment to the Constitution: No interleague play!! This amendment will follow those of the great “Crash” Davis, banning AstroTurf and the DH.
I may be shouting at the rain and my voice will probably not be heard over the din of the masses, but let it not be said that I did not shout.
-Dodgerdave
It seems that no matter in what direction my life moves I always return to the ballpark. When the winds of change cause me to list one way or the other; I come back to the ballpark. When the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune assail me; I come back to the ballpark. When I am simply no longer able to be a citizen of a society that is too lethargic and apathetic to take time to think for itself; I come back to the ballpark. Why? Because, at the ballpark, things don’t change, because baseball is the platonic ideal of life. Ayn Rand once wrote that “I felt so profound an indignation at the state of ‘things as they are’ that it seemed as if I would never regain the energy to move one step farther toward ‘things as they ought to be.’”* I too find myself with the same thoughts many days. I see a world in which we say that “All men are created equal” but there is nothing to support that premise in daily life. We are rife with deprivation and starvation, greed and graft, economic crises and spiritual bankruptcy and still we soldier on. We get up in the morning and go to work for companies that make it clear to us that they don’t give a damn about whether we live or die, only that the bottom line gets fatter. We are besieged by ads that say: wear this, buy that , drink this, think this way; and if only, if only we had all these things, then and only then our lives would be complete. That if only we possess these things then we’ll make more money, be more popular, and the pretty girl in the ad will fall over with her legs wide open. Well I am here to tell you that 99% of what you see is bullshit, that it just doesn’t matter. That it is all a big facade, a machine made by rich men to get richer, by tyrants so that they may tyrannize, by oppressors, that they may oppress. And these things are true everywhere on earth, save one. The Ballpark.
The ballpark reminds us of what we can be, what we must be. It reminds us that our Creator has endowed us with certain things that are unalienable. Baseball is the great equalizer in life, because in baseball it doesn’t matter whose crotch the doctor yanked you out of; there is only one thing that matters: Can you hit the curveball? And although our ballparks are besieged by ads and games take longer so that Budweiser can remind us for the umpteenth time that it is the king of beers, so that Geico can tell us that people save money when they switch to Geico (of course they do! Who voluntarily pays more for anything?) the game on the field is yet unchanged. It is unchanged because it is flawless. The people involved in it may be rotten but the game is nearly perfect. The bases are 90 feet apart, the pitchers mound is 60 feet, 6 inches, 3 strikes and you’re out. The game is contained within the lines, hit it between the lines and run like hell, 1st to second, stretch a single to a double, a double to a triple, hit it over the fence and you get to trot. Don’t make the first or the third out at third base, catch the ball with two hands and don’t hang a slider, throw the first pitch for a strike and get the leadoff man. These are the eternal commandments of the game. Each team gets an equal number of outs and we shalt have no ties, we shall play until someone has won and someone has lost. And tomorrow we shall do it again.
Ernest Lawrence Thayer’s ”Casey at the Bat” is subtitled “A poem of the republic” and that it is. It is a poem of the republic because baseball represents the very best of us. The platonic ideal of America. It represents not the way things are, but the way they ought to be and that, friends, is why I return to the ballpark. I return to the ballpark to see what we could be, what we should strive to be. I return to the ballpark because at the ballpark there is only what happened and what didn’t. There are no what ifs in a box score, nor are there close calls, there is only the truth; and in the end that is all we can really ask of one another: the truth. And the truth is all the ballpark has to offer and it is more than enough; and perhaps we learn something about ourselves and one another. Perhaps, in witnessing truth, we shall be compelled to see what it should be, not what it is. It is with that hope that I return to the ballpark.
-Dodgerdave
*The quotation from Ayn Rand can be found in her introduction to the centennial edition of The Fountainhead.
That’s the title of the headline in tomorrow’s newspaper. Well, not yet but I’m hopeful because although I love streaks in baseball I would much rather have the winning streak variety instead of this 3-game skid. We acquired Mr. Lowe from the Dodgers this off season, and despite some people saying he is to old for a 4 year contract I loved the upgrade to our pitching staff. He gets outs, and has served well as the ace this year. I’m still very hopeful in the outcome of the season this year because there is still alot of baseball left. As an added bonus we still have Hudson and Glavine returning sometime in the future, and I cannot tell you how much joy that brings me. Just to see them back on the mound will be a pleasure to witness.
I’m hoping we go into Arizona carrying a broom with us, but I will be optomistic and be happy with taking 3 out of 4. Today is the start of us pinch hitting a winning streak for a losing streak.
-BravesWin95
Filed under: Baseball
In the 90′s there was a simple certainty in my life that I embellished. The Braves would win their division in fashion and I could go into the post season with my fingers crossed. The past few years I have left my embellishment behind. I grew up watching the Braves and seeing them win, it all only once! Though as my years progress and I become all the more wiser I stopped embellishing the Braves, but now embellish the entirity of baseball and all the great joys it brings to my life.
The Braves are keeping their head above .500 and are still on a close race early in the season to regain their place as NL East champs. After a season filled with injuries, with before all that happened, I had hopes of winning a pennant. I’m now looking forward to what this season is going to bring. I’m looking forward to Mr. Glavine retaking the mound with the hopes him bringing back some of my childhood memories, and creating a few more. I’m looking forward to a good race in the NL East. I’m looking forward to our beloved sport all together.
Filed under: Baseball | Tags: bill plaschke, cheater, Los Angeles Dodgers, Manny, Manny resistance, steroids
Today Manny Ramirez will begin a 50 game suspension for being a thief, a liar and a cheat. 50 games for ripping the heart out of Dodger fans everywhere? 50 games for spitting on the memory of Reese and Robinson, Newcombe and Koufax? 50 games for deciding that you are bigger than the game? Sorry, not enough. 50 games may be enough for Bud and the boys and Don Fehr and his crew but 50 games is not enough to me, nor should it be to anyone else. 1/3 of the season for devaluing the expierience of every Dodger fan to see him play. Last year in Washington I saw Manny hit a home run and I remarked to Bryan (AKA BigZ38) that it was cool that we had seen that, that we had seen a future Hall of Famer hit a ball that still hasn’t landed. It turns out that wasn’t what we saw at all, what we saw was a cheater and a disgrace to the game and the uniform.
Folks, I am a Dodger fan for a reason and I hold the Dodgers to a higher standard than many other clubs. I expect this from a Giant, or a D-Back or anyone in high AAA (others call it the American League), but not from a Dodger. And Furthermore I will not tolerate it from a Dodger. Manny needs to go.
No one expressed this better than Bill Plascke in today’s L.A. Times…http://www.latimes.com/sports/la-sp-plaschke-ramirez8-2009may08,0,130225,full.column and I will not attempt to top him.
I have had my Manny for today and every other day and if he ever plays again in a Dodger uniform I may go shopping for a new team, maybe I’ll be a Nats fan….nah I love my Dodgers too much. But I can tell you that from this day forward I am forming the Manny resistance, a group solely and completely dedicated to the removal of Manny from a Dodger uniform. Comment if you’f like to join and we’ll see what a few pissed off Dodger fans can accomplish.
I expect this to be the first post in a series concerning the utter stupidity of Joe Torre as a baseball manager. I know that people say that Torre is great, and he does have several world series rings but leading the Yankees of the late 90′s to a Championship is like being the CEO of Wal-Mart and turning a profit. Not unexpected. Now I know that my Dodgers have bullpen issues to say the least and I know that we have some guys that are injured but seriously, we are using 3 bullpen guys right now: Jonathan Broxton, Ramon Trancoso, and Ronal Belisario. 3 guys!! That means that he doesn’t trust the other relievers to get anybody out and I agree with that, so here’s my question: If these guys are not trustworthy, why in the hell are they on the roster? Simply put because Torre is an idiot. Just like the Scott Proctor experiment from last year (it turns out he only sucks in months with at least 30 days, but I hear he is a beast in a charity softball game). The Dodgers control well over 100 pitchers throughout the moinor league’s, you mean we can’t find two or three guys that can get people out in the big leagues!
I will state this many times over the course of the season…if you gave me 45 minutes with an Irish Setter, the Dodgers would have a more capable manager. I consider this to be exhibit A in this series of posts (and I intend to have more exhibits than Marcia Clark did against the Juice) adn I promise more will follow on the managerial incompetence of one Joe Torre.
There are times in my life where I can stand a little bit of mess. I am certainly no neat freak by any stretch of the imagination, but there is a point at which I can no longer stand it. This week the Dodgers opened beautiful Dodger Stadium at Chavez Ravine only to find it disgusting, dirty and abhorrently filthy. No it had nothing to do with the appearance of the ballpark. The crews at Dodger Stadium keep the 47 year old park in immaculate condition at all times. The stadium is just as clean at the end of the game as it is at the beginning and the groundskeepers had the field manicured to perfection. But yet after all their hard work there was a stench that came from the first base line. It began there and slowly wafted its way across the stadium. It made its way into the Dodger dugout, the seats, the bleachers in the outfield and the luxury suites, there was no place in the park to escape it. Those new to the game or the Dodgers were unsure of what it could be, what on earth could cause such an ungodly stench? Those of us who are true Dodger fans knew immediately what it was and what the only solution was.
The cause of the smell that soiled the air around the stadium was none other than the San Francisco Giants. Their stench is unique, it enters through the nose and slowly consumes your entire body. It fills your lungs with putrid air that is almost suffocating, it stains your clothes in the same way that sin stains the soul and slowly engulfs your entire body in a filth that is so complete that one wonders if holy water could cleanse the body. The only solution to this is to sweep the Giants straight out the house with the same vigor and commitment that one expels dirt from the house. It is a three day process to be rid of the Giants, at the very least. It must be performed in the proper order because if any step is missed the smell lingers when they leave of their own accord. The process is simple but not always easy. In order to expel the stench they must be defeated every day and the Dodgers accomplished this tonight. Tonight Dodger nation offers a prayer of thanksgiving that the smell is gone, the day and the series belong to us. Nothing like a little spring cleaning and remember: when the Giants infest your house…BUST OUT THE BROOMS!!!
-dodgerdave
Filed under: Baseball
April 15th, Jackie Robinson Day. It’s the least we can do. In 2004 Commissioner Bud Selig declared April 15th Jackie Robinson Day. This will mark the 62rd anniversary of Jack Roosevelt Robinson breaking the “color line” in Major League Baseball as a member of the Brooklyn Dodgers. THANK YOU! It cannot be said enough. Thank You Jackie for persevering, for dealing with all the naysayers and racists. Thank You Jackie so we could witness such great players as Ernie Banks, Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Fergie Jenkins, Willie McCovey, Satchel Paige,(even though his best years were in the negro leagues) Larry Doby, Roy Campanella, and all African-Americans. Not only did you pave the way for African-Americans but for breaking the barrier to allow any race to play in our great game. Roberto Clemente, Luis Tiant, Albert Pujols, Manny Ramirez, and many, many, many others. Thank You Jackie!
On April 15 1997 MLB retired Jackie’s number throughout all of baseball. 42 is retired by all 30 teams. This number shall never be worn by another player in a game except on Jackie Robinson Day (although some players were grandfathered in on the number, the Yankees Mariano Rivera being the last active player to still wear it). Today we pay tribute to a man who was more than a ballplayer, and whose significance cannot be underestimated. Some historians have gone so far as to date the American “Civil Rights” movement to April 15th, 1947. What Jackie endured is unimaginable, he was subjected to taunts, threats and racial epithets, some from his own teammates. His was not just a personal struggle against a world that viewed him as inferior due to the color of his skin, he played for an entire people, he brought hope to millions of African Americans.
The influence of Jack Roosevelt Robinson continues today and the shockwaves of his playing in Major League Baseball continue to break down barriers and to destroy racial prejudices, not only in our laws, but in our hearts and minds. For that and so much else that words cannot express; today we say thank you Jackie, thank you for showing us that talent and dignity, fortitude and grace exists within all of us, no matter the color of our skin. Thank you for being the man that we needed you to be. Thank you for displaying the courage that knows no bounds, that has no end and that inspires us all to look at the man within the skin, not the skin without the man. Thank you Jackie.
“Brought Jackie Robinson to Brooklyn in 1947.” - Final words on Branch Rickey’s Hall of Fame plaque
-BigZ38 and dodgerdave
