The Baseball Desert

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Just-in-time management

My internal alarm-clock didn't go off last night, so I didn't join the game until about 3:30 CET. It was already the bottom of the 7th inning, and the Sox were down 3-2. I almost didn't hang in there, but I was awake and unlikely to drop back off to sleep, so I figured what the hell...

One inning later, Papi tied the game and Manny worked yet more of his unbelievable early-season magic.

(photo: AP)

In any other situation, a quote like this:

"[Ortiz is] going to come through," said Ramirez. "If he doesn't hit, I'm going to come through for him,"
would just sound like a player trying his hardest to support a struggling teammate, but looking at what Manny has done this past week, you can't help wondering if he hasn't slipped through a crack into some strange, parallel superhero universe where he is actually trying to do this...and succeeding. A bad man indeed.

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Whilst Manny's game-winning blast is quite rightly going to get all the headlines, the former center-fielder in me would like to say that without Jacoby Ellsbury's running catch in the top of the 8th, the Sox wouldn't have been in a position to win the game at all. So consider it said.

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Stat of the game: thanks to baseball's sometimes bizarre accounting system, Ellsbury's catch allowed Javier Lopez to record the win with the sum total of one pitch. I don't care where you work - that's a pretty efficient day at the office.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Old friends

So far this season, I've seen bits of different games at different times of the day, but for the first time this season, there was my favourite middle-of-the-night gathering chez Iain, with the best guest-list that an MLB.TV subscription can buy: me, Don and Jerry and the Red Sox.

When you get up at 1am to watch the game - especially on a Friday night after a tough week at work - things can get a little shaky around the 3rd or 4th inning, as you fight to stay awake. Last night was no exception. The evening was slow in getting going, and with Daisuke looking like he needed a map to find the strike zone, it seemed like we were in for a looooong night. What I hadn't counted on was the proceedings being considerably enlivened by the arrival of an unexpected old friend from seasons past: Big Papi - he of the monstrous bat, the 5 RBIs and the grand slam home run.

It's amazing what four runs in the 3rd and five runs in the 4th (including four from the Sox' Young Guns: Lowrie, Ellsbury and Pedroia) will do for your stamina. I went from almost asleep to full fist-pumping mode in the space of about 20 minutes, and that rush of energy kept me going from Daisuke's exit in the sixth right through to Timlin's 1-2-3 ninth. (I'll repeat that again, just for Beth's benefit: Timlin's 1-2-3 ninth...).

The Sox are a long way from perfect, but taking into account the Japan trip, the absence of Lowell, and the pale imitation of Big Papi that we saw up until last night, records of 7-3 over their last ten games and 11-7 overall seem pretty good to me. Now would be a perfect time to build on that at Fenway and put together a nice little winning streak between now and the end of the month.

Over to you, gents...

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Stop, start

One of the things that has always drawn me to baseball is that it's a game of discontinuous action. I grew up watching soccer and cricket, and although I spent more time watching the former than I did the latter, I think that cricket always appealed to me more because of those constant breaks in the action. Soccer has its breaks too, but they're much shorter, and the game itself flows - and time passes - much quicker. Cricket, on the other hand, is a game where there is a break between every delivery, giving the players, the spectators and the broadcast teams time to take a step back and place everything back in the bigger picture.

Baseball is exactly the same kind of game. Despite it being an incredibly physical game, those bursts of action are quite widely spaced, and the time between each pitch, each at-bat and each inning is time which all of us can use to look back at what has just happened and look forward to what is about to happen.

If you watch any baseball game closely enough, you end up noticing that there are actually countless moments when time seems to just stop. The same kind of thing happens in other 'bat & ball' sports – tennis and golf are the ones which spring to mind – where there's a split-second before the action where everything seems to be in suspended animation, and there's an overwhelming sense of a huge wave of energy about to be unleashed. The tennis player comes to a stop just before the ball is thrown up in the air for the service; the golfer stops for a second just before starting the backswing; the baseball diamond is frozen in time just before the pitcher goes into his wind-up. Once that moment is over, there's a flurry of action as the ball heads towards the opposing player, the green or the plate, but it is that moment which appeals so much to me as a fan. In the minutes and seconds leading up to it, we can see all the potential outcomes of the situation, and chances are that we're probably praying for one or more of them at any given time (strike, strikeout, ground ball, double play, sac fly, home run). As time stops for a moment, the play and the game are ours to imagine as we see fit, but once that split-second is over, the game is once more beyond our grasp and in the hands of the guys on the field.

Last night's game saw one of those moments taken to the nth degree: one-run Sox lead in the top of the 8th, two on and two out for the Yankees, A-Rod at the plate. Messrs Buck and McCarver – Fox's resident specialists in "stating the blindingly obvious" – pointed out that this was the ballgame right here. Tito clearly felt the same way, and he summoned Papelbon from the bullpen to put an end to the foolishness. However, thanks to the vagaries of Massachusetts weather, the key moment of the game was suspended for much longer than a mere split-second. The rain came down before Papelbon could throw a single pitch, and he had to wait 2 hours and 11 minutes before he could get back out there and face A-Rod. (Question, did the baseball gods do that on purpose, thinking, "Shit, we can't have a Sox-Yankees game that lasts under three hours – let's send 'em some rain"?) Those 131 minutes were enough to allow the following to happen: the tarp to be put on the field; the tarp to be pulled off the field and put back on again; Papelbon to warm up on three separate occasions; Fox to show the end of the D-Backs / Rockies game and yet more inane banter (this time courtesy of Zelasko, Karros and Kennedy); my cable channel to decide to switch to the Bruins game; and, finally, me to go to bed.

So, in the end, the 2 hours and 11 minutes on the East Coast translated into something like nine hours over here, as I was only able to catch up with the 8th and 9th innings of the game over breakfast today. Leaving the game hanging in the balance like that didn't stop me getting a good night's sleep, but there was definitely a sense of unfinished business and a rush to switch on the condensed game this morning. I deliberately picked it up again right where I'd left off, and was rewarded with a three-pitch strikeout of A-Rod and a 1-2-3 ninth.

I wouldn't want all those key moments to be as long in coming, but now and again they really are worth the wait. And in the end I woke up to a win, so my day was made before it even really got started; anything else from here on in will just be icing on the cake.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Opening Day, SG style

I'm pretty pumped about Opening Day at Fenway, but unfortunately have no time to put my thoughts to paper, or rather, to keyboard.

What I can do, though, is give you a glimpse into the amazing place that is Red's brain, for Opening Day à la Surviving Grady.
During the seventh inning stretch, Neil Diamond sprints from the bullpen to sing "Sweet Caroline," but is intercepted and dropkicked by Mike Timlin, allowing Tom Waits to bust with "The Heart of Saturday Night" with, inexplicably, Kevin Millar on bass.
Will somebody please put this man in charge of the festivities, NOW?

A lucrative sideline

This year we negotiated the amount of bling with David and we compromised.

David Ortiz: baseball superstar and bling consultant.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Opening Day, Part x

Last Tuesday there was Opening Day in Japan. Last night there was Opening Day in Oakland. Next week it'll be Opening Day at Fenway Park. But tonight, it's the best Opening Day of all: whilst most of Red Sox Nation is cursing a 3:35pm start or having to urgently rush home from work to look after poor Auntie Ethel, who is once again - unbelievably - at death's door, I'm rubbing my hands together at the prospect of the first game of the year here in the Baseball Desert.

Beer? Check.
Pringles? Check.
Baseball? You bet your ass.

Play ball!