Sacred 600?

Is A-Rod really about to hit number 600? Why does it feel so ho-hum?

I remember him as a wee lad, a skinny thing with an M's uniform and a genuine smile. I tore the cover off a Beckett Baseball Card Monthly with his face on it and hung it on my dorm wall in college. He's only a year older than I am, but he was playing Major League Baseball when I was still in high school.

I stopped liking him as a player after the things he said about Ken Griffey, Jr. when the Reds got him. I was even more disgusted at the outrageous sums of money he received when he went to Texas, but when he threw the fit about his contract with the Yankees - a contract HE signed - and demanded the contract be renegotiated despite the fact that he was the highest paid player in baseball, well, that made him become one of my least favorite players of all time.

I've written before how I really don't care about steroids, how they are just another technological advance that players didn't have back in the "good old days" and that it's a Nancy Reagan view of drugs that make steroid players evil in the eyes of society. I've written about how the "good old days" have never really existed, too, but that's not saying things haven't changed or that the business of baseball often drowns out the game itself. It's not just player salaries or greed. People criticize him but see nothing wrong with selling historic homerun balls for hundreds of thousands of dollars, average Joes and Janes who want to cash in on a bit of luck rather than just appreciating the game for what it is - a game. People complain about how expensive it is to go to a baseball game but they don't see that they don't need to buy concessions or souvenirs that will just sit on shelves.

The fact is, Alex Rodriguez wanted to be the best in the game, and he would do anything to get there, and that is just a product of the society we live in, where doing the right thing is only right when it doesn't come with a high dollar profit and enjoying life is a measure of how many possessions one has rather than the number of breaths he takes each day.

The number 600 feels cheapened, but I don't blame steroids. The mystique of the great game of baseball is vanishing, and that's not simply misguided nostalgia or a kids-these-days mentality. I don't know what it is. I'm struggling to understand time and space and the evolution of humanity, and baseball is a mere reflection of the rise and decline of an empire and the struggles of a society to overcome its flaws and wrongs. What? It is! From it being the first professional sport (evolution of capitalist entertainment industry) to its racial separation and subsequent integration (before the Civil Rights Movement began) to its becoming the corporate behemoth it is today, baseball is the story of America.

Someday I'll look back on the career of Alex Rodriguez, look at that long list of stats and just marvel at what he was able to accomplish. But he'll never achieve the mythical quality of those I never got to watch, probably because I got to see his entire career when I was old enough to appreciate it.

But I can't help feeling Ken Griffey, Jr. is already a mythical creature. And so is Bonds. Go figure.

The Noise Machine

By now, everyone on the entire baseball planet (and some who don't know a thing about the game) have made their opinions about the botched call known. Here's my take:

People don't understand that the umpires are not getting worse, but technology is getting better. When you have things like X-mo and Super X-Mo and all of those other technologies that make time nearly stop so you can see every millisecond of a play, of course you're going to notice that umpires are human beings.

Umpires make errors just as players make errors. I, for one, think the human element is one reason baseball is a beautiful game. I hate the idea of instant replay. For as many calls that go against your team throughout the season, you probably get about that many that go FOR your team. It stinks that Joyce had to mess up on such an important play, but in baseball, as in life, shit happens, and people just need to get over it. Galaraga has. (What a classy guy, too.)

I have no problem with the idea of Emperor Selig reversing the call.

I also want to write something on Griffey, but I'm wiped out this evening (I'm mentally still on Beirut time and it's nearly 6am there.) Seeing as how I'll be seeing the Reds three times in the next three days, I probably won't get around to it. (I've done it before - click on the Griffey label link.) I'm very excited to see the Reds live. Look for a ton of photos here!

Top ten all time favorite players

I thought I’d take the time to reflect upon my favorite baseball players. The only rule I’m using is that I had to watch him play and remember him, so any Big Red Machine players are out. I’m sure I saw Johnny Bench play as a child, but I just don’t remember.

10. Paul O’Neill. I never really got over the trade. I never considered him a Yankee even though his best years were in pinstripes. He could have been one of the Reds greats if they’d have kept him. I have a picture of my family and me with him – I had to be in fifth or sixth grade and had a hideous perm, so that won’t be displayed on the mantle.

9. Derek Jeter. Maybe the one player whose entire career I followed, at least from Columbus on. Jeter’s one of those players who has that extra something that people who’ve never played competitive ball don’t understand, things like leadership and stepping up when things count. He’s played in the brightest spotlight and has never had a scandal. That’s something right there. He may not be the greatest shortstop in the game, but he’s good.

8. Ryan Zimmerman. This kid has a head on his shoulders and can be the next Brooks Robinson if he stays healthy. I can’t believe the Nationals haven’t signed him to a longterm contract yet.

7. Bret Boone. I liked him when he played for Seattle. I was thrilled when he came to Cincinnati. He was one of those players you can’t explain why you like, you just do. He was good, not great, but he was a big part of winning Reds teams and I was pretty sad when he left.

6. Sean Casey. Who didn’t like the Mayor? Nice guys are easy to love. It was pretty sad to see him retire this year. He’d make a great bat off the bench in Cincy.

5. Ryne Sandberg. Call it a WGN childhood. I loved Ryno. I had nearly every baseball card of his except the rookie cards – I only had the Fleer rookie card and spent a pretty penny on it back in the day. Maybe my Ryno love had something to do with the fact that my uncle got me a Sandberg Louisville Slugger when I first started playing Little League back in second grade. Sometimes you just develop an attachment to a player, but he was a pretty darn good one. I didn’t lose any love for him when his team got into that big fight with the Dayton Dragons last season.

4. Jose Rijo. 1990. The squirt gun. The Banana Phone pranks. What was there not to love about Jose? It was a bummer his arm didn’t love him, though. Bummer he might be in trouble, too.

3. Ken Griffey, Jr. Yes, yes, I have been hyper-critical of him in the last couple of years, and I even suspect that he had more of an impact on the Reds losing than we could imagine, but Junior was my favorite non-Reds player as a kid and my god, is that swing art. With time, I’ll forget all of the negative things about him, even the injuries, and remember him as the greatest centerfielder of my lifetime. I’ve already almost forgotten the bad and cannot wait to see him in a Mariners uniform again. I hope he hits forty out this year.

2. Barry Bonds. Yes, baseball’s all-time homerun hitter. But I don’t need to elaborate on why. I’ve written about it before. It’s just that I’ve never seen the atmosphere of a game change as it did when he came up to bat. There was electricity in the air. You just knew when he was going to hit one out.

1. Barry Larkin. One of the greatest shortstops in the history of the game. Born and bred in Cincinnati, Ohio. A pure Red.

Players who would have made this list but…:

Roger Clemens. I know, I know, it seems like a double standard loving Bonds and hating Roger. I used to love him, even as a Yankee. I remember taping a Clemens-Martinez matchup once and watching the game later. But the whole weirdness about his half seasons and his perceived craziness soured me to him. What can I say? You can’t help the way you feel. And I didn’t have the luxury to see him play on a regular basis like I did Bonds. Maybe it was the bleeding butt that turned me off.

Manny Ramirez. I loved Cleveland Indian Manny Ramirez. But then Manny became Manny, and the love stopped flowing.

Darren Daulton. Something about a guy who preaches that the end of the world is coming ruins the legacy.

Jose Canseco. Dude is just crazy. I loved him as a kid. But something about a rat just rubs me the wrong way.

I was surprised that there weren’t more Reds on my list when I really thought about it. I hope that one day I can rewrite this list and add Brandon Phillips, Joey Votto, Jay Bruce, Johnny Cueto, Edinson Volquez, and Homer Bailey to the list!
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Bummer about Griffey

The whole country wanted to see him in a Mariners uniform.

And to go to one of the five hated teams, the Chopheads. Ugh.
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It's bittersweet

I wanted Junior gone. His death signal antics were the final straw. But I haven't been one of the typical Junior haters. I wrote this when he visited Seattle last year:

On Junior

Now's as good a time as any to write about my long Griffey fandom and the beautiful Mariner's poster that used to hang over my bed in high school. I graduated in 1995, so I guess you could say I was an early follower.

It all started with baseball cards. When I was in 8th grade, a friend of mine who happened to be a boy got a lot of my Griffey cards. Junior was in his second season when I started the school year, and I knew about him only because his father was playing for the Reds at the time. I knew about Senior and the Big Red Machine, of course, as my awareness of that team pretty much had come when I saw all the hoopla about Pete coming back. By the time Junior put on a Major League uniform, Pete had disgraced himself and was out of baseball for good. I'll never forget the scandal and the impression it made on my young mind. But I digress.

This friend of mine, Jeremy was his name, traded for most of my Junior cards, which of course were rookie cards. Back then, the American league was pretty foreign - the Mariners more so because they were so far away from Dayton, Ohio. But soon after I traded my cards, I began to wonder about what was so special about this guy that made Jeremy want those cards. Yeah, I know, I wondered too late - should have thought about it BEFORE I traded for all of those Paul O'Neill cards. Sure, Paul was a great player, but he was no Junior!

I also noticed that Junior was gracing the cover of every sports magazine. (I'm glad I saved a bunch of them.) I read everything I could about him, and very early in his career I began to dream of him coming home and playing for my - and his father's - Cincinnati Reds. I bought a beautiful Costacos Brothers poster of him, lots of Mariner teal and green, and hung it above my bed. He was right in the center, where not even Barry or Brett Boone hung. It was there for several years.

One Saturday night when I was gone, so were my parents, and my sister had a party. Someone stole that poster, which today could probably sell on ebay for $$$. I don't care about that, though. I want that poster. My sister bought me another poster to replace the stolen one, but it wasn't the same. I've tried looking for a copy of the poster but have never found one. (Perhaps I should post on Craigslist Seattle?)

The day we got Junior was one of the greatest days in my life as a Reds fan. Junior was going to be wearing red when he broke Aaron's record, and I just knew I would be at that game to see it when it happened. Seven years later, we all know what heartbreak this has been, but you know what? I don't regret Junior coming to the Reds - quite the opposite. I feel lucky that I've been able to see him play on a regular basis, not like when he was in Seattle and the odd Mariners game came on ESPN.

This year we are getting to see the Junior we have waited to see for so long, and it has been a blessing. But that 'what if' will always poison any success he has as a Red, for he has missed 350 games since he's donned the Cincinnati uniform, and 350 games is a lot of home runs!

I hope Seattle fans give him a five minute standing ovation when he is announced this evening. I plan on watching the game tonight. Even with the heartbreak, he's had an amazing career.

I attended the Reds game the day after he hit 600. That was Junior's game. It felt like we were saying goodbye at that game.

There will always be the what ifs.

Ken Griffey, Jr.

Been a long time coming.

I missed it. I asked the people to turn the Reds game on in the restaurant where I had gone specifically to watch the game. By the time they finally got around to it, the Reds were batting in the second inning. Funny thing was that as I sat in agony waiting for someone to turn it, I felt that shot. I knew he hit it, and when the score showed 2-0, Reds up, my heart sank. Yes, sank. It ruined the entire game for me. Replays are not the same.

I should have just stayed home.

I might have to kick myself and live with it the rest of my life

I'm not going to the game today. I went to the game on Tuesday to see Bruce's debut, and well, I have used up my self-imposed gasoline quota for the week, as I am currently an hour and a half from Cincinnati. (Yeah, some of us make sacrifices for the good of society. I just hope this sacrifice is not too great. Besides, it is too late - I would not get to the game in time.)

See, I'm taking a gamble that Griffey won't hit number 600 today because of the number of at bats it usually takes him to hit his next home run. Oh, I hate to have to make this decision, but baseball is like that. There are things you can control - like seeing the Major League debut of both Bruce and Cueto, as I have done this year - but you can't control when a guy will hit a homer or get his first Major League hit or things of that nature.

Yesterday got me thinking about the career of Ken Griffey, Jr. The goosebumps paid me a visit as I watched 599 sail into the rightfield seats, and the baseball fan in me felt like it was 1998 instead of 2008. When they brought out the special baseballs for his ensuing at bats, it didn't feel real. Griffey has always been just Ken Griffey, Jr. to me, much more than a Cincinnati Red, and I had a hard time believing that this very special thing was happening to a Cincinnati Red in Cincinnati, Ohio, that baseball history was being made, that national attention was turned to the Reds game, and that a man who wore the uniform of my favorite team was interrupting big market games so that television could show his every at bat.

What happened that I had to suddenly wake up from a daze and remember that it was Ken Griffey, Jr. in rightfield, one of the greatest players in the history of the game, a guy who should have the names Bonds, Aaron, Ruth, and Mays before his name by the end of the season and those names only. It's as if his legend has already taken effect and the body in rightfield is some sort of phantom, or an impostor, or someone else entirely. I have become bitter with disappointment over the years from all of the injuries and his comments about Cincinnati fans, and I forgot to just enjoy the fact that it's Ken Griffey, Jr. out there in right, that we are so lucky to be able to watch him play. Junior was my favorite non-Reds player growing up. I think I've fallen in love with him all over again. I don't want him to leave Cincinnati without a ring on his finger.

Baseball, as they say, is a kid's game. For so many of us, it gives us a few hours a day to do the impossible - return to childhood. When we see our heroes age, well, that's a reminder that we, too, are aging, and it doesn't make us feel comfortable. I look around the league and see the greats who were rookies right about the time I was old enough to appreciate them - guys like Tom Glavine, whom we saw Friday night, and Greg Maddux and Gary Sheffield and Jim Edmonds - we see their decline and we want to blame them for it. Heroes aren't supposed to die or fade away. But they do, at least for a few years at the end of their careers, and then they turn into superheroes like Babe Ruth and Willie Mays and Hank Aaron. I imagine Babe Ruth was the subject of ridicule in his last few years, including his stint with the Boston Braves, which everyone forgets about because he just wasn't Babe Ruth then. Time erases most of the bad stuff in life and in the careers of ballplayers.

Griffey is not the player he once was, and there will always be what if surrounding his name. He should be going for 700 right now instead of 600. But that's life. Some things just don't work out how we want them to and we should enjoy the blessings we are fortunate enough to get. We should just sit back and enjoy having Junior on our team and look forward to the day we can say "I saw him play."

Chances are we won't get to see him hit 600 today, that some lucky fan in Philly or Miami will get that moment to stand and shake his head, saying "I just saw one of the greatest players in the history of the game join a club only five other men have entered." (People in Miami don't deserve to witness it - there aren't enough baseball fans there to see it! Philly phans, on the other hand, will pack the house this week, I'm quite sure.) I hope he waits until the Reds come home again - I will try to be at every game if he is still at 599 then. I'll settle for some doubles in the meantime!

Pathetic

Yeah, Junior, put that head down and be sad. I had been looking sooooo forward to this series, and you guys can't even give me one win against one of the most pathetic teams in baseball?

I'm pressed for time at work right now, but I plan on doing a series of posts about the series. I have a ton of photos to post, too. My personal experiences during the series - getting autographs at the hotel, sitting eleven rows behind home plate, meeting new Reds fans - made the whole week salvageable. Otherwise I think I'd cry!
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On Junior

Now's as good a time as any to write about my long Griffey fandom and the beautiful Mariner's poster that used to hang over my bed in high school. I graduated in 1995, so I guess you could say I was an early follower.

It all started with baseball cards. When I was in 8th grade, a friend of mine who happened to be a boy got a lot of my Griffey cards. Junior was in his second season when I started the school year, and I knew about him only because his father was playing for the Reds at the time. I knew about Senior and the Big Red Machine, of course, as my awareness of that team pretty much had come when I saw all the hoopla about Pete coming back. By the time Junior put on a Major League uniform, Pete had disgraced himself and was out of baseball for good. I'll never forget the scandal and the impression it made on my young mind. But I digress.

This friend of mine, Jeremy was his name, traded for most of my Junior cards, which of course were rookie cards. Back then, the American league was pretty foreign - the Mariners more so because they were so far away from Dayton, Ohio. But soon after I traded my cards, I began to wonder about what was so special about this guy that made Jeremy want those cards. Yeah, I know, I wondered too late - should have thought about it BEFORE I traded for all of those Paul O'Neill cards. Sure, Paul was a great player, but he was no Junior!

I also noticed that Junior was gracing the cover of every sports magazine. (I'm glad I saved a bunch of them.) I read everything I could about him, and very early in his career I began to dream of him coming home and playing for my - and his father's - Cincinnati Reds. I bought a beautiful Costacos Brothers poster of him, lots of Mariner teal and green, and hung it above my bed. He was right in the center, where not even Barry or Brett Boone hung. It was there for several years.

One Saturday night when I was gone, so were my parents, and my sister had a party. Someone stole that poster, which today could probably sell on ebay for $$$. I don't care about that, though. I want that poster. My sister bought me another poster to replace the stolen one, but it wasn't the same. I've tried looking for a copy of the poster but have never found one. (Perhaps I should post on Craigslist Seattle?)

The day we got Junior was one of the greatest days in my life as a Reds fan. Junior was going to be wearing red when he broke Aaron's record, and I just knew I would be at that game to see it when it happened. Seven years later, we all know what heartbreak this has been, but you know what? I don't regret Junior coming to the Reds - quite the opposite. I feel lucky that I've been able to see him play on a regular basis, not like when he was in Seattle and the odd Mariners game came on ESPN.

This year we are getting to see the Junior we have waited to see for so long, and it has been a blessing. But that 'what if' will always poison any success he has as a Red, for he has missed 350 games since he's donned the Cincinnati uniform, and 350 games is a lot of home runs!

I hope Seattle fans give him a five minute standing ovation when he is announced this evening. I plan on watching the game tonight. Even with the heartbreak, he's had an amazing career.

Hey Wayne - DON'T TRADE JUNIOR!
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Another reason the Reds aren't as bad as their record indicates

We just got our second NL player of the week! Congrats to Ken Griffey, Jr. Oh yeah, and we also had two other nominees...

Cincinnati Reds right fielder Ken Griffey, Jr., who recorded three home runs and nine RBI, has been named Bank of America Presents the National League Player of the Week for the period ending May 13th. Bank of America, the Official Bank of Major League Baseball, is the presenting sponsor of the American League and National League Player of the Week Awards, which reflect the company's long-standing tradition of recognizing achievements that inspire us all to seize opportunities to perform at our very best. [HOW CHEESY.]

The lefty slugger hit .400 (10-25), posted a slugging percentage of .760 and recorded an on-base percentage of .484. His nine RBI paced the National League and his three homers were tied atop the N.L. On Sunday, Griffey hit his 570th career home run against the Dodgers, moving him into sole possession of ninth place on the all-time home run list. The blast put Junior three behind Harmon Killebrew for eighth place.

Other nominees this past week included his Reds teammates Adam Dunn (.381, 3 HR, 6 RBI) and Brandon Phillips (.355, 6 R).

Here's to you, Mr. Robinson

I wasn't at the game, but I took these pictures with my mind. As the rain poured down and washed out every game on the East Coast, I watched the Cincinnati Reds Pitching Club play the Chitown Chub$ on Jackie Robinson Day from the shelter of my room.

With the exception of Ken Griffey, Jr., who got a hit in the first inning, and Jeff Conine, who drove in the game's only run with the Reds' other hit, it was more of the same old same old for the Reds when it was their turn to use the wood.

They are content to make every opposing pitcher look like Cy Young, and they let Ted Lilly do it for the second time today, even allowing him to tie his career high with 10 strikeouts. The Reds then proceeded to strikeout a few more times against the Cubs' pen. David "Clueless" Ross struckout all three times he was up, and Freel, Hamilton, and Encarnacion each went down twice. After several years of having one of the top offenses in baseball, it's rather frustrating to see such miserably weak plate production.

Conversely, it is pretty cool to see good pitching day in and day out, at least when Eric Milton isn't pitching.

Kyle Lohse was pretty incredible today against the Chub$. I said it before, but I'll say it again - this will be a career year for him, the year he finally breaks out and becomes the pitcher people thought he could be. He had a career high 12 strikeouts and scattered four hits and a walk in eight innings. If this is the real Kyle Lohse, other teams better watch out!

Thanks to the pitching and despite the offense, the Reds have returned to first place in the NL Central and the Chub$ have dropped to their normal last place. The Deadbirds pooped out the Sausages today, winning 10-2 thanks in part to two homers by Prince Albert Poophols. Every single person wearing a uniform during that game had on the same number, which looked pretty bizarre.

It's only two weeks, and we were in the same position last year, but it still is quite nice to look at:

Cincinnati	7	5	.583	-
Milwaukee	6	5	.545	0.5
St. Louis	6	5	.545	0.5
Houston	4	6	.400	2.0
Pittsburgh	4	6	.400	2.0
Chi Cubs	4	7	.364	2.5

The geezer has a burst of energy

I remember the first year. He was about as far away from Southwest Ohio that you could get while still being in the United States, back before teh internets, when newspapers were still the way people got their news. The time difference made all but highlights nearly impossible to watch, but I always checked to see what he had done.

In a way, the distance already made him a legend in my mind. He was this guy I never saw who was supposed to be the greatest baseball player since Willie Mays and whose hometown was Cincinnati - was he real? I had a poster of him over my bed (that was stolen when my sister had a party when everyone was out of town) and pages of his baseball cards. I often thought about how great it'd be for him to come to the Reds - we hadn't had a true superstar in my lifetime, the kind of player that would draw national attention to the team.

And then it happened. It was a holiday, an unbelievable feat accomplished by Leatherpants Vampire. Ken Griffey, Jr. was a Red. He was going to break Hank Aaron's record in the hallowed uniform. He was going to bring our team some championships after narrowly missing the year before. He was going to walk on water, turn the Ohio River into beer, and take us during the Rapture.

Of course, we all know what happened next. Still, Junior moved into the top ten all time while donning the wishbone C. This was a fun win, but damnit, it reinstilled that illogical sense of hope in me. Cardinals lost again. Reds 3.5 games back with six games to play.

It's out of here! It's out of here!

Four hits, two of them three run homers, seven RBI total...Griffey had it going on today in the US rout of South Africa.

As much as I was thrilled that my favorite player, Ken Griffey, Jr, kicked ass as he has been doing during the whole WBC (which looks good for the Reds!), the real story was the Rocket. Dear Roger, won't you please play this year? Didn't you have an unheard of 1.87 ERA last year? Baseball needs you. Class is sometimes lacking in today's young players - they need people like you to lead them. You know you'd miss it painfully.

The Chief got the last out - a strike out, thrown under the flattened brim of his USA cap. Nice to see him again, really nice.

ESPN's ratings are way up because of the Classic. I certainly did my part by making a bar, Post Pub, turn the game on Wednesday, and people turned their heads, first confused as to what this tournament was - simply seeing "USA" on the jerseys piqued their interest, and then half the bar, those who weren't "like" dizzy blond women, were unconsciously or consciously watching the US lose to Canada. I missed the game today but watched the archived game when I got home after happy hour in the beautiful spring weather, sixty-five and clear skies and promise that it will be even better this weekend. Is there anything better in life besides perfect weather and baseball? I think not.

In other WBC news, the Dutch guy pitched a no hitter against Panama. If you're interested in his name, look it up. Nederlands rox, though not at baseball. I still wouldn't mind one of those hoep hoep Holland orange BP jerseys. Not for $119, though. Too much spring time happy hour and baseball tix coming up.

What the announcers were saying during the commercials today: Aside from berating the South African team in what they thought was off the air and then deciding that they would praise the team when they officially went on the air, these guys spent half the time trying to decide how to suck up to the National Disgrace, who was visiting the booth during the third inning. Should I ask him about Barry? No, I know he doesn't want to hear it, but he's used to being asked the question. Should I talk about what a great decision the Wild Card was even though he was criticized for even thinking about it? Is my tie straight? Do I have enough makeup on? (Ok, so that last one I made up, but only because they went on air and ran out of time for that question.)

Today's prayer: Pray that Roger comes back this year.

My kind of state

For one month out of the year, anyway.

Griffey has reported early to camp to get into baseball shape before he heads off to play for Team USA in the World Baseball Classic. This guy was my favorite non-Reds player back in the day - I even had a poster of him on my wall. (He is my favorite Reds player now, especially with the departure of Casey.) That one sweet day he came to Cincy is one of my most revered baseball memories, and it was Bowden's best baseball move in his rather infamous career. Of course, the heartbreak that followed over the next few battered years was tough to take, but last year's numbers have washed some of those negative feelings away and put that spirited smile back on his face. Although there will always be the "what if?" when Griffey's name is mentioned in the history books, his career is far from over.

The spring restlessness has set in. I can nearly smell the hotdogs...