Indians Fans = Imbecilic Rioters???

I'm a lifelong Indians fan.

The mid 90s were great years. Our management was intent on bringing a champion to Cleveland. Mike Hargrove managed a tremendously talented team of power and speed. It was wonderful.

In '95 we lost to the best team of the decade.  The Braves lost most of their World Series appearances, but they won against us.

In '97, though, we lost against a clearly inferior team. The Florida Marlins had spiked at the right time, carrying them from wild card to champs.

The name of Jose Mesa still makes me shiver.  But he did help get us to the big dance.

Then, many more years of tiny, if any, hopes. Three Cy Young winners later, two of which bolted immediately thereafter, there we were in another World Series, due, in large part, to the brilliant leaderahip of Terry Francona.

Up three games to one, I had the idiotic decency to hope the Cubs could win game 5, at home, for their fans.

Then, they did.

I don't blame myself. Nor do I blame Jose Mesa or Ernst Byner.

Congratulations to the Cubs. I'm happy for you. Briefly.

But don't expect me to be happy for you for long. I know Cubs fans are pitied by many. More of their fans this year appeared to be nothing more than bandwagon fans, joining the chorus only because the team was doing so well. But the True fans, some of whom are relatives and friends of mine, I am happy for.

But enough of the pity. Honestly, any Cubs fan who wasn't a fan in 1945 has NO IDEA the pain felt by Indians fans.  They've NEVER lost a World Series. Many of we true Indians fans have lost 3.  You'll get none of my pity.

Now, to the point.

There's an absurd, politically pointed comic online in the last few days. The point of it is to point out the absurdity of the whining, destructive, imbecilic thugs who are rioting and destroying both public and private property in protest of their felonious, treasonous candidate's election loss. 

Please, do not compare Indians Fans to those godless, spoiled cretans.

Thank you,

M

Book Review: "Our Tribe"

As a lifelong Indians fan, thought living all but six years of that life away from the Cleveland area, I never really knew anything about Terry Pluto until I recently read "The Curse of Rocky Colavito" (which you might read about here).  After I read that book I sent it to my oldest brother.  He and I had our birth into sports fandom in our youth back in Bedford, Ohio, on the outskirts of Cleveland.  We would lie in bed listening to Pete Franklin talk sports, or Joe Taite telling us what was happening in an Indians or Cavalier's game.  Neither of us has very foul language, though we really liked Pete Franklin.  We also don't have official "I hate the Yankee" hankies.  Ah, well.

Where was I?  Oh, yes.  

When I sent that book to my older brother, he pointed out a few other books which Pluto had written.  Finding that they were primarily Cleveland-based, I dug into it a bit and reserved some at my local library.  The first to show up was "Our Tribe", a heart-warming story of not only Mr. Pluto's youthful sports fandom, but of the connection with his dad that it created in his youth, as well as the vibrancy that it brought between he and his aging, stroke-victim father in their later years.  

This isn't just another sports book.  Mr. Pluto demonstrates, by his own relationship with his father, some of the beauty of the connections that can happen between fathers and sons in connection with sports, and how those relationships can be kept enduring through those same events and commonalities.  Obviously such relationships can be kept enduring through other means, but "Our Tribe" shows it specifically in the connection that is made by being fans of a particular team for a lifetime.  Together.

A delightful read (even for this grown male who also, like Terry Pluto, cried when Jose Mesa blew it in game 7 of 1997).

Book Review: "The Curse of Rocky Colavito"

 

I just finished reading this book by Terry Pluto.  Previously, I had never heard of the author, but he caught me with his subject. The subject at hand?  My beloved Cleveland Indians.  

The story isn't merely about the Cleveland Indians, though.  It is of their historic defeat.  As you can tell by the subtitle, it all begins back in 1960 when an idiot (and Pluto may have actually referred to him as such) named Lane traded Rocky Colavito away for players who are now forgotten.  Colavito was the pride and star of the Indians in 1960, but Lane was a man who was part traitor and part trader.  Some of his bragging listed in the book has to do with how many trades he made.  As if trading was a good thing in and of itself.

Pluto tells quite a few stories beginning in 1960, and going all the way to the early seasons of the 90's--right before the Indians became successful (for too short a time) again.  Some of my favorite chapters are of the heroes I had in the 1970s--Duane Kuiper, Rick Manning, Dennis Eckersley, and, the most beloved of all, Andre Thornton.  If I were to pick one chapter to re-read, and I have, it would be the chapter called "The Conscience of the Indians."  That chapter is all about Andre, the greatest man to be on the Indians team in the last forty years.  And by "Greatest", I mean character, not simply as a ball player (though he was a great one).  

In fact, after I re-read that chapter later this evening, I'll probably have something to think about in terms of my own feelings of Loser (which I spoke of here a few years ago).  I've needed to really learn something from my Cleveland fandom for many years.  Just last night I apologized to Bronco's fans online, because I, a Cleveland fan, was cheering for Peyton Manning.  Peyton and the Broncos were absolutely slaughtered on the Super Bowl last night.  

And, like so many devastating Cleveland losses ("The Drive", for example, though I don't think I ever cried at a loss like I did the Jose Mesa blunder in '97), I felt this one too deep for a grown man to feel.  It wasn't even my team, but I felt like my personal "L" was stamped on a man for whom I cheered.  

This book gave me the courtesy of knowing that there are others out there who feel some of that angst.  I appreciate that.  And, after I re-read that chapter about Andre, I hope I can grasp a bit more of his perspective on life, and roll on past this giant L which haunts me.  I hope I can see past the L that tracks me in all my sports fandom, the L that keeps people interrupting me in conversation, the L that lingers as I painfully attempt to re-establish tools I've provided for hundreds, the L that keeps me under the 'leadership' of a control freak, the L makes me doubt something I've always said ("Luck is pagan"), the L that keeps me in the pile of disrespected former leaders... The L that tracks me down and gives me a beating in spirit over and over and over and over again.  I'm tired of being a giant L.

My L needs to die.  

I hope it will. 

L, L, L, L, L, W, L, ...

Come heck or high water, I am a Cleveland Indian fan.  

Many days ago, as the Indians were sitting on a record of 71 wins, 59 losses, I wrote the following on one brother's FB wall, tagging my other online brother in the note:

"The Indians would have to go 9 and 23 in the remaining 32 games in order to not get to .500 for the year. Get your bets in."

Immediately after that posting they won 1 and lost 6.  

We are Indians fans.  Losing has become expected, though still a disappointment.  Like the Cleveland Browns fan (of which we are also) who died a few months back and requested that six Browns lower him into his grave, so that they could let him down one more time, .... we have expectations of L.

Honestly, we need help.  Maybe psychological help.  That L stamped on our foreheads isn't healthy.  

~ ~ ~

If you follow baseball, though, you know that the season ended much better than I ever would have anticipated.  In the end, the Indians ended the season as the hottest team in baseball, reeling off ten straight wins.  In the end they were 92-70, beat out both Texas and Tampa for the top wildcard spot, but ended up losing that single game to the Tampa Bay Rays.  

Still, a satisfying season for this veteran Indians fan.

MVP

Alright, I'll just come out and say that I think Mike Trout is the MVP of the AL this year. 

No, I'm not that big on all the latest metrics.  WAR is a nice number, but there are two different versions.  There is only one RBI number--and everybody knows how it works.  There is a "historic" WAR number in the possession of Mike Trout--which is pretty cool, considering the fact that he wasn't an Angel until a month into the season.  But that can also be said of all his other numbers.  For example, he is the only player to ever have 30 HRs, 40+ SBs, and 125+ runs.  He came very close to getting into an exclusive 30 HR / 50 SB club, but everybody in the stadium on the last night knew he was going for it, so an average catcher caught him doing so.  Which, by the way, was only the fifth time this year that he was caught stealing.

Who would have thought that Mike Trout would tie Albert Pujols in HRs for the year? 

Nobody.  Not even I, who believed Pujols was already on the decline. 

But Mike Trout hit a HR in the major leagues before Pujols did this year.  Yup, beat him by one day, though Pujols had played 27 games by the time he hit his first, while Trout had played in six.  In the end, they tied at 30. 

Thirty?!  Ten years and 240 million dollars for a man who hasn't hit .300 in two years, hit only 30 HRs, had 105 RBIs, OBP of only .343, and a WAR of merely 4.6.  He was in 8th for RBI's (a stat that many of the new folks think is meaningless... which I still don't get, because runs are kind of important), 10th in HRs (tied with his rookie teammate who didn't play a whole season), and nowhere near the top ten in WAR. 

I'm sorry, I really like Pujols, but his year totally indicates the Angels made a huge mistake.  I can (and do) hope that he comes back and wins the Triple Crown next year. 

And, speaking of the Triple Crown, ... really?  How did Cabrera end up being the one to get this unusual award?  Well, for one, by the sad demise of Pujols, who should have earned at least one of those leading categories.  Also, by the Yankee skipper removing Granderson from the last game when he was hot on the trail of the HR lead.  Also, by the caffeine-free Hamilton bailing out during the last two weeks of the season. 

Cabrera had a tremendous year, yes.  It is arguable that this isn't his "career year".  I congratulate him on winning the Triple Crown, but I wish he hadn't.  First, because he plays for Detroit (remember--I'm an Indians fan).  Second, because I would prefer having Hamilton or Pujols or Votto pull it off (there are no Indians who would be even remote possibilities--at least not since Manny).  Third, because it will probably mean all the stodgy old reporters will vote for him rather than Trout, who clearly deserves the award. 

[Sigh].  Whatever.

Mid-Season Hopeful Projections

It is almost time for the All-Star break, so this morning I was looking around at a few players to see what their current "projections" are for the year.  One thing I love about baseball is--the numbers.  They intrigue me, fascinate me, get my attention, make me feel giddy and free.

Or something.

So, I'm going to provide somewhat of a "wish list" here, with some of those projections in mind.

World Series

The World Series that I hope for every single year is simply this--Cleveland Indians vs Cincinnati Reds, Indians win in seven.

Yes, I totally realize that this is fantasy.  But, heck, this is my baseball blog, right?

I'd even be good with the Indians being down 3-0 after three games--as long as they don't break my heart again like they did in 1997!  (Jose Mesa is NOT available now, right?)

World Series II

Okay, since my fantasy World Series is less than likely (Tiger Woods has a better chance of winning another dozen tournaments, in fact), here's what I will hope for this year's World Series:

Texas Rangers vs Whoever, Rangers win it in 5.  Or 4.  Maybe 6.  Just not 7, I don't think those fans deserve that kind of torture again.

And, with the Rangers in mind, let's get on with the projections!

Josh Hamilton

Current Projections: 103 Rs, 178 hits, 30 2B, 2 3B, 51 HR, 148 RBI, 63 BB, 150 SO, .314 Avg, .381 OBP.

I like Josh Hamilton.  A lot.  I hope that he wins another MVP award this year.  In fact, I seriously hope that he out does all of these projections.  Let him get 200 hits, bat at least .330, hit at least 50 HRs, maybe top 148 RBIs, walk more, strikeout less.  But, the projections are the projections.  If he has a couple hot streaks like he had earlier this year, it'd be good.  Chances are he'll get out of this slow period for another time or two.

Joey Votto

After my Indians fandom, I am a fan of the Cincinnati Reds.  I love how strong Votto has come out of the gate.  His current projections are:

104 Rs, 193 Hits, 69 2Bs, 29 HRs, 98 RBIs, 125 BBs, 127 SOs, Avg .350(!!), OBP .471 (Also !!!).

If it weren't for the ridiculous incompetence of Dusty Baker, Votto would have a projection of 150 RBIs by this time.  But, no, Baker puts two pathetic OBP folks in front of Votto more often than not.  You'd think he was the manager of Ichiro at some point, and believed that hitting 200 singles in a season was as good as having an OBP above .350.

Anyway, Votto needs to pick up the pace just enough to get 200 hits.  I read somewhere that there were only two players in history who had 200+ hits and 120+ BBs--Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig.  Now that is some fascinating company.

Adam Dunn

It was painful to watch his numbers last season, but very few people actually seemed to think he was Dunn (see what I did there?).  Thus far, he has proven his fans to be correct.  He's batting a pathetic .210, but his OBP of .359 is good enough for 43rd place as of today (and far superior to the "HOF" Ichiro's .297, but not quite as strong as Ichiro's lifetime .367 (which, by the way, is better than the folks Dusty has playing in front of Votto)).

Current projections:   90 Rs, 119 Hits (what?), 21 2Bs, 49 HRs (which would be a career high), 119 RBIs (obviously in a better managed lineup than Votto), 131 BBs (crazy), 258 SOs (probably a record), and then the numbers presented earlier.

Some pretty ugly stuff, but some nice stuff, too.  I hope he pulls the average up, the OBP, and keeps on pace with the HRs.  That'd be great.

Cliff Lee

Um... projected to win Zero games.  Never mind.


Albert

Most folks I hear anticipate that he will beat out the current projections.  Most believe he will bat .300+, hit 30+ HRs, and have 100+ RBIs.  He's a bit on the hot side right now, but we shall see.

Current projections: 627 ABs, 84 Rs, 170 Hits, 43 2Bs, 25 HRs, 98 RBIs, 57 BBs (if he stays hot, that will change rather dramatically), 78 SOs, currently a .271 avg and 331 obp.  Those numbers will change.

Or... maybe they won't.  I think he's showing wear.  Last year didn't look like Albert, and I didn't think he deserved the #1 pre-season ranking that ESPN analysts gave him.  I have no idea how they thought that.

CC Sabathia

Unfortunately, as a former Indians fan who follows this heavyweight, CC is currently on the DL.  That'll slow his pace towards another 20 W season.  Yes, I know the Keith Laws and such of the universe think that W's are meaningless.  I don't.  There's more to this game than the numbers--there is the human factor that contributes to such things.  I would never have voted for a Cy Young for a 12 game winner (or was it 13?).  I don't care how fancy your numbers are--you didn't pull a Steve Carlton and win half your team's games.  Lame.

Anyway, CC's current projections are: 222 IP, 60 BBs, 218 K's, 19 W's, 6 L's.

Works for me.  Go CC.  And, fail Yankees. 

Matt Kemp

How do you do projections on a guy when the projections currently suggest he will play only 73 games?  Never mind.


Yu Darvish

Certainly an interesting figure.  I was hearing folks projecting him as the Cy Young before he threw his first major league pitch.  Thus far, he hasn't totally damaged their reputations.

Current projections: 207.2 IP, 18 HRs, 107 BB's, 237 K's, 20 W's, 10 L's.

I'd like to see more consistent dominance, because he's pitching for my hopeful World Series winner.

A few others

There are a few other players who intrigue me--some because of the teams they play for, others because they are novelties, or they are having rather significant years.  A few other projections:

Adrian Beltre is having a good year--which he needs to do in order to rightly support my Nolan Ryan  team.  Projected to hit 36 2Bs, 28 HRs, get 105 RBIs, and is batting .323.

Stephen Strasburg, whose innings limits are talked about constantly, particularly because the Nats are actual contenders this year, is on pace for 19 W's, 6 L's, 196 IP's (which, apparently, he will not reach), 257 K's, 57 BB's, and WHIP of 1.08.

R. A. Dickey, the now famed knuckleballer, is on pace to win 24 (!!), only lose 2 (!!!), 229 IP's, 235 K's, a stifling 0.88 WHIP and .190 opponents batting average.

GO R. A.  I am totally not a Mets fan, but this story is too good not to cheer for.


So...

I guess time will tell whose excellence continues, who floats to the top, and whether or not my Cleveland Indians become a dominant force in baseball.

[Sigh]... never mind.

Rangers vs Cardinals, Please!

I have been a Nolan Ryan fan for as long as I can remember baseball.  My first set of baseball cards were the Topps cards that showed stats from 1974.  I read about this strike out phenomenon and was an immediate fan.  Baseball drew me by its numbers, and Ryan had ridiculous numbers.  In 1974 he started 41 games, completed 26 of them, pitched 332 innings, struck out 367 (less than he had the previous year), but walked over 200 batters.  I suppose that may have been why he only placed third in the Cy Young award.  Still, he was ripped off.  Catfish Hunter?  Whatever.  I remember living in Little Rock, Arkansas when he was coming to the end of his incredible and long career.  One of my life regrets is NOT heading down the highway to see him pitch in Arlington.  Ah, well.

Oh, and I loved it when he did commercials a few years later--about aspirin, if I remember right.  He was still blurring the ball past batters.  A workhorse unlike anything that is on a mound these days.

In recent years, I've been captivated by the numbers and character of Albert Pujols.  Though I'm not a Cardinals fan, I've cheered for them because of him.  You may already know that I'm first an Indians fan, then a Reds fan (being an Ohio boy).  Well, I spread out to the general Midwest after that (and cheer against the Left and East coast teams..... although I do still cheer for former Indians like Cliff Lee, CC Sabathia, and Victor Martinez).

So... pulling together these two fan-ness's (totally botched that made up word, eh?), I'm hoping to see the Cardinals and the Rangers in the World Series.  If they both make it, I don't think I'll care which one wins.  If one of them doesn't, but the other does, I'll have a team to cheer for.  If neither does... Brewers versus Detroit?  Hmm... nah.

Go Nolan, go Josh Hamilton, and go Pujols. 

Charlie Spikes

Have you ever heard the name? I imagine you would only know the name if you were a fan of the Cleveland Indians in the mid-70s. Although he played for Cleveland, Detroit, Atlanta, and the dreaded and oft-hated New York Yankees during that decade, he really only had two almost-good years--1973 and 1974. Having had 23 and 22 HRs during those two years, which led the team (neither George Hendrick, nor the coolly named Oscar Gamble did better), Charlie then evaporated into relative obscurity.

However, for me, he was more than a man with two decent years.

In 1973 my family moved to Bedford, Ohio, a suburb of Cleveland. I was nine years old. For the next six years of my life, I spent a considerable amount of time with a cousin who indoctrinated me in the world of professional sports--football, basketball, and, mostly, baseball. It's not that I had never seen professional sports before (my father was a huge Boston Celtics fan, and I cannot tell you how many Sunday afternoons were spent with the Celtics on the television and my dad sleeping in The Chair), but my cousin played a part in instilling in me an absolute LOVE for the game.

The previous summer we had lived near Springfield, Ohio. I played on a little league team in Christiansburg, Ohio. We wore yellow hats. I watched bugs and birds in right field.

In Bedford I played on baseball teams, too. In fact, I distinctly remember being put on an all-star team one year. I had been a second baseman all year, but I ended up playing left field for a bit in that game. One memory I have of those years of little league in Bedford was the time I raced behind second base to catch a pop fly, leapt, and fell on my shoulder. I cried. I can't even remember whether I caught the ball.

In my first year as a little leaguer in Bedford, we were given a choice on what we wanted to make our team name. We choose to be called the "Spikes", because Charlie Spikes was currently The Man. In fact, some called him the Bogalusa Bomber. I have no idea what that means, meant, or from whence it came. Ah! Google rules. He was from Bogalusa, LA.

In fact, here's a good little bio, along with pictures of the baseball cards from his two best years:

http://aardvarktradingco.wordpress.com/2009/01/29/the-%E2%80%9Cbogalusa-bomber%E2%80%9D/

To my ONE fan on this site, I've ordered a little something (used) from Amazon. I hope you enjoy it. If it's a worthy read, let me know.

I Love Baseball

The other day my family and I were driving to see my daughter at college. My wife and I were talking about one thing or another, when a mini van drove by on our left. We have some fun reading other people's license plates when we are on the road--typically pointing out ones that are particularly amusing. This one, though, wasn't going to be interesting to anyone but myself in our van. The first three characters were "CEY". My mind jumped backward about thirty years in only a heartbeat.

I pointed out the license to my non-baseball-loving wife. I told her this guy played third base for the Dodgers during a few glory years. He played with one of the longest running infields in the history of the major leagues.

She just looked at me. For a moment.

Then she said some things I had not thought of ... ever.

"You really ought to write about baseball. You love baseball. You always have. You enjoy writing. Why not combine the two and do something fun with it? Even if it's just a blog."

I had to think about that. What man doesn't want his wife to kindly encourage him to think about, write about, do something more with something that he loves? I always like talking about politics and religion, but baseball? You kidding?

Ron Cey. Third base. Los Angeles Dodgers. Played with Steve Garvey, Bill Russell, and one of my early favorites--Davey Lopes. They really were the longest running infield ever in baseball. That's something. I never did get why Bill Russell made it into this mix. I know he was a good fielder, but did he own a bat?

I'll have to look up some things. I'm sure Russell couldn't have been the lifetime .168 batter that I think of him as, but he never was very good with one. Still, there he was. (Okay, I looked up some things since writing this. The most astonishing fact of all is that he led the NL in intentional walks in 1974!!! What?!?! A lifetime .263 hitter whose greatest HR year was SEVEN??? I'd guess that he batted eighth--right in front of pitchers.)

I was never a Dodgers fan. I'm not really a big fan of anything that comes from Los Angeles... except, maybe, the Angels of today. But, the year that I became a fan was 1975--and Andy Messersmith was in the headlines.

My love for baseball started with the Cleveland Indians. I was living in a suburb of Cleveland, and spent a good bit of time with a cousin whose family had been in the Cleveland area for longer than we had. They were die-hard fans. I learned about baseball from this cousin and his dad. I heard about Herb Score, Bob Feller, and all the old greats.

Most importantly, though, I started listening to baseball games. Every game night, my older brother and I would have the Indians on the radio. We'd set the radio to shut off in 30 minutes. The game wouldn't be over when it went off, so we'd have to turn it back on and set it for another 30 minutes. We would listen as our favorite players would play ball. John Ellis, Buddy Bell, Duane Kuiper, Rick Manning, Don Hood.... all of the old Indians.

More on the Indians another time...

I love baseball. The numbers, the old names, the radio games... I love baseball.