Hit Tracker

I've been doing my part to refute the notion that the new Yankee Stadium is a bandbox, an argument that is proving more and more difficult to make with each passing day. To wit: in 24 road games this season, the Yankees have hit 32 home runs. In one less home game, they have 45, or 13 more. More telling, however, as Peter Abraham points out, is the fact that the new Stadium yields approximately 3.78 total home runs per game, while Citizens Bank Park and Rangers Ballpark--two notoriously hitter-friendly parks-- only give up three per game. Case Closed. 

Abraham compiled his stats via Hit Tracker , one of the coolest websites I've come across in a very long time. It's full of interesting information, like which player's hit the longest home run in the Majors this year: As of this morning, Raul Ibanez, May 22, off Chien-Ming Wang at Yankee Stadium. 

And the shortest, Howie Kendrick's limp-wristed bloop off Gil Meche on May 8, at Angel Stadium. (Ed. Note: I'm not counting Brett Gardner's inside-the-park home run, for obvious reasons).

The site also posits which home runs would have gone out of other parks around the league. Ibanez's shot, for instance, would have cleared the walls of all 30; Kendrick's, on the other hand, wouldn't have been a home run in any other park. Not surprisingly, Yankee Stadium has a lot of low numbers in this particular category. The site also suggests that David Ortiz's sole home run this season, a 381-foot drive off of Brett Cecil, would have remained in the field of play in every other park besides Fenway.  

Such a great website. 

PTI Down Under

God help me, but I had no idea ESPN's influence reached all the way down to Australia. The network really is ruining sports the world over, one sophomoric program at a time. Take this clip below, for instance. In it, Milwaukee Bucks center Andrew Bogut volunteers five good minutes to the Australian PTI, 300 seconds of his life he will never, ever get back. Bogut, an Aussie, chats with co-hosts "Slammin" Sam Kekovich, a former Australian Rules Football star and current spokesman for Meat and Livestock Australia, and Russell Barwick, who is, clearly, an idiot. During the segment, Kekovich, a man with some serious, unresolved issues with women, becomes increasingly obsessed with Bogut's sex life, specifically how many women Bogut has waiting for him in his hotel rooms and how he manages to steer clear of pesky sexual harassment and sexual assault charges from predatory American women. Barwick, meanwhile, asks Bogut who he thinks will win the World Series, or "whatever the NBA Finals are called." By the end, I'm not sure which host is a bigger tool, just like the original PTI, minus the accents and the regular use of the word "mate," of course.  

Enjoy.   

(Via NBA Mate)

The Onion Brings David Ortiz Back From the Dead

Classic. 

"We have amended the rules of the game to allow David [Ortiz] to use any performance enhancer he can find, as baseball is pretty boring when he's not hitting home runs," said Selig, who added that Ortiz could be suspended for 50 games under the new policy if drug tests show he is not taking any previously banned substances. "What David is doing right now is wrong, and this season could damage his reputation forever. The game of baseball needs him to do the responsible thing and superhumanly whack balls over the fence whenever possible." 

Mock Drafts

I haven't been paying too much attention to the Eastern and Western Conference finals, although I did manage to catch LeBron's shot as it unfolded, before heading out of town for the rest of the weekend. For the most part, I've been reading up on the likeliest of the most likely lottery picks. Ricky Rubio, it seems, is playing it a bit coy, telling people-- via his agent, Dan Fegan-- that he only wants to play in Los Angeles or, worse case scenario, Sacramento. Meanwhile, Blake Griffin remains a lock to go first overall. He'd have to measure under 6-5 to fall to No. 2. That he plays next year in a Clippers jersey, however, remains to be seen, as rumors out of Los Angeles have the Clippers' front office weighing whether or not to trade the pick. That's a tough call, either way. I'd so much rather Griffin and Chris Kaman on my roster than Zach Randolph, but I doubt very much there's a team out there willing to accept a trade for Randolph, his horrible attitude and his even worse contract. Griffin, if traded, would undoubtedly land the Clippers a much more attractive package. 

As for the Knicks, I see them taking either Stephen Curry, if he's still on the board, or North Carolina's Ty Lawson. I've heard murmurs of Walsh and D'Antoni warming up to USC's Demar DeRozan, but his 16 percent three-point percentage casts some serious doubts on Walsh's and D'Antoni's rumored budding man-crushes. Besides, they already have a better version of DeRozan on their roster. His name is Wilson Chandler.   

I hope to put together my own mock draft in the next couple of days. In the meantime, here are three--DraftExpress, Knickerblogger and The Baseline--that make sense to me, give or take a few players. 

DraftExpress:

1. Clippers: Blake Griffin
   
2. Grizzlie: Hasheem Thabeet
   
3. Thunder: James Harden
   
4. Kings: Ricky Rubio
   
5. Wizards: Jordan Hill
   
6. T'Wolves: Tyreke Evans
   
7. Warriors: Brandon Jennings
   
8. Knicks: Stephen Curry
   
9. Raptors: Demar DeRozan
   
10. Bucks: Johnny Flynn
    
11. Nets: DeJuan Blair
    
12. Bobcats: Gerald Henderson
    
13. Pacers: Jrue Holiday 
    
14. Suns: Earl Clark
    
15. Pistons: Austin Daye
    

Knickerblogger:

1. LA Clippers - Blake Griffin, PF, Oklahoma: If Mike Dunleavy’s recent declaration of undying love for Blake Griffin is true then he’ll probably trade players to clear room for his new beloved. If it’s not true then the #1 pick may represent a rare opportunity to clean up a roster that is a mess, possibly in one fell swoop. (Previously: Ricky Rubio)

2. Memphis - Ricky Rubio, PG, Spain: Choosing Rubio has its advantages, regardless of whether he wants to play in Memphis. His rights become an asset for the asset-starved Grizz. Even though Memphis should do this, no player in this draft generates more ambivalence for me than Rubio. The talent is evident, but there are lots of reasons it may not work out for the team that drafts him. (Previously: Demar DeRozan)

3. Oklahoma City - Hasheem Thabeet, C, UConn: Thabeet may be a one-trick pony but his trick is precisely what OKC needs. He’s a defensive anchor, with a decent shot at becoming a more athletic Mutombo. The downside is that he will probably never be even an average offensive player. But, in this draft there’s something to be said for being fairly certain of a player’s “floor”. (Previously: Brandon Jennings)

4. Sacramento - Brandon Jennings, PG, Italy: Sactown will most likely take the best PG left on the board. I suspect Rubio would prefer Sactown over Memphis, and perhaps a deal can be struck. (Previously: Blake Griffin)

5. Washington - Jordan Hill, PF, Arizona: The Wiz is the team I think most likely to deal its pick. If they keep it they’ll be looking for depth that could help in a pinch, but with some upside. Hill is a lot like Chris Wilcox. (Previously: Hasheem Thabeet)

6. Minnesota - Tyreke Evans, G, Memphis: I think Minny opts for the highest upside player on the board regardless of position. It could be Evans, depending on workouts. It could also be Hill, Jennings, DeRozan, or Lawson. Almost literally nothing they do would surprise me, which I hope they interpret as a challenge. (Previously: Evans)

7. Golden State - James Harden, G, Arizona State: I’ve loved to watch this kid play since he was a junior in high school. To me he’s the 6′5″ Paul Pierce. Other mocks have him higher right now, but I expect that on draft night he’ll slide in between 5 and 8. (Previously: Jordan Hill)

8. New York - Ty Lawson, G, UNC: I almost pulled the trigger on Lawson in the previous version. Now that I think Nate Robinson most likely will be signed-and-traded this July, Lawson becomes a better fit. He used to be just a fly-down-the floor guard (and frankly, there is something to be said for that) but his screen roll game has really evolved. I expect him to shine in workouts. He may be this year’s Westbrook–an already well-regarded player who vaults up the board based on superior workouts. Oh, and I really hope Walsh can find a 2nd round pick this year. This draft has some potentially very useful role players. (Previously: James Harden)

9. Toronto - Stephen Curry, G, Davidson: Is it possible to NOT love Steph Curry’s game? He fits Toronto like a glove, even down to his weaknesses (i.e., lateral quickness, overall athleticism, defense). He’s also the right kid to play outside the lower 48. This is a makes-too-much-sense-NOT-to-happen move if Curry is available. (Previously: Stephen Curry)

10. Milwaukee - Dejaun Blair, PF/C, Pittsburgh: Blair’s rebounding and long arms may get him to the top ten. (Previously: Ty Lawson)

11. New Jersey - Demar DeRozan, SF, USC: I think DeRozan is the biggest gamble this draft. It’s just not clear if he’s really good at anything yet. Add to that, he may be leaving town one step ahead of the sheriff with allegations of payola hanging over Tim Floyd at USC. Having said that, I’d honestly be a bit surprised if someone doesn’t pull the trigger on him earlier. (Previously: Jeff Teague)

12. Charlotte - Gerald Henderson, SG, Duke: With Larry Brown making personnel decisions, there is simply no way to anticipate what he’ll do. What I can probably write down is “scrappy, hard-nosed defender with a high basketball IQ” and just wait to fill in the name. I like Henderson as a solid sixth man who plays both ends. (Previously: Gerald Henderson)

13. Indiana - Jrue Holiday, G, UCLA: Holiday was probably among the most shocked when Darren Collison return to UCLA for his senior season. That moved Holiday to SG, where he struggled playing limited minutes out of position for a team with a style that doesn’t exactly fit his strengths. I’m not an “everyone should play one year!” guy, but Holiday should go back to school for another year. He’d definitely move to PG this year and could vault himself into the top 5 of next year’s draft. He may yet do so in this draft based on workouts, but the new format doesn’t allow as many chances for teams to see players as in the past. As of this writing he hasn’t hired an agent, but everything I have read suggests that he’s in the draft to stay. (Previously: Earl Clark)

14. Phoenix - Johnny Flynn, PG, Syracuse: The rumor mill says that Phoenix likes him. We’ll take that as a baseline pick. (Previously: Johnny Flynn)

15. Detroit - Earl Clark, F, Louisville: I am not a fan of Clark’s offensive game, particularly shot selection, but he’s a good defender. (Previously: Wayne Ellington)

The Baseline:

1. Clippers. Blake Griffin, PF, Oklahoma. They’ll need to make room for him (so long, Chris Kaman?), but the Clips won’t pass him up.

2. Grizzlies. Ricky Rubio, PG, Spain. The Grizzlies might shop PG Mike Conley this summer in order to make Rubio their man—or they could move down.

3. Thunder. Jordan Hill, PF, Arizona. It will come down to Hasheem Thabeet or Hill with this pick, and Hill has the athleticism advantage.

4. Kings. Hasheem Thabeet, C, Connecticut. The Kings may put together a package to shake Rubio from Memphis. If not, big is the way to go.

5. Wizards. Brandon Jennings, PG, United States. The Wizards could use a backup point guard or a big man, but they’ll probably trade this pick.

6. Timberwolves. Stephen Curry, G, Davidson. Many are assuming he’ll be there for the taking when the Knicks pick. Not so fast.

7. Warriors. Tyreke Evans, G, Memphis. In the second half of last season, Evans showed some promise as a point guard, though he’s probably not ready for that role just yet.

8. Knicks. DeMar DeRozan, SG, USC. DeRozan is still developing, but he is an excellent athlete, and Mike D’Antoni likes athletes.

9. Raptors. Chase Budinger, G/F, Arizona. His combination of shooting ability and athleticism sets him apart, and the Raptors are looking for wing players.

10. Bucks. Ty Lawson, PG, North Carolina. He’s a tough, experienced point man who would be the ideal guy for coach Scott Skiles.

11. Nets. James Harden, SG, Arizona State. Harden will fit here because the Nets will, eventually, move Vince Carter.

12. Bobcats. Earl Clark, SF, Louisville. A 6-9 small forward who can handle the ball and be a playmaker—Clark is just Larry Brown’s type.

13. Pacers. Gerald Henderson, SG, Duke. By closing the season strong and showing off a nice jumper, Henderson laid to rest any doubt about his NBA ability.

14. Suns. Terrence Williams, SG, Louisville. His shooting in the NCAA Tournament was a big surprise and, considering his defensive talent, a big boost for his stock.

15. Pistons. James Johnson, PF, Wake Forest. He’s a bit of a 'tweener, and he needs polish, but a bench role in Detroit would help his development.

Stars and Stripes and Mike McCready

Earlier this week, on May 19, Pearl Jam's Mike McCready played the Star-Spangled Banner before the Mariners-Angels game to promote the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation of America. McCready, Pearl Jam's so-called "secret weapon," has been living with Chron's disease and ulcerative colitis for 20 years, since he was still shredding with his first band, Shadow, in Los Angeles. McCready announced his condition seven years ago, in 2002, to help raise awareness and funding for the CCFA. He recently testified before a Washington state legislative committee to mandate emergency access to private businesses' bathrooms for people with Crohn's, colitis and other related disorders. Governor Chris Gregoire signed the bill on May 12, which proves McCready is much more persuasive lobbyist than his band mates. 

In recognition of McCready's work, then, and just in time for Memorial Day, here's a clip of McCready biting into Francis Scott Key's anthem, a la Jimmy Hendrix. Please note the impressive four-set Marshall stack behind him, and, later, Pearl Jam's second-place finish in the Mariners' Fan Pulse poll. Enjoy. 



(UPDATE: I'm pretty sure McCready's performance discredits Ludovic Hunter-Tilney's facile argument. This one, too. Also this one. And, yup, this one.)

Ortiz, Cheney Live!

Less than 24 hours after David Ortiz hit his first home run in 149 at-bats dating back to last season, Dick Cheney delivered a self-aggrandizing national security speech to the uber-conservative American Enterprise Institute. Coincidence? I don't think so. In recent years, Big Papi and Big Dick-y have been, at least to me, the root of all evil. I don't know this for certain, but I'm pretty sure neither man can be stopped without the aid of a wooden spike.  

David Ortiz, Record Breaker

This is also cheering me up. After sitting out the past couple of days to "clear his head," David "Papi Stinks" Ortiz returned to the Boston lineup last night and went 0-for-3 in the Sox's 2-1 victory over the Blue Jays. Ortiz's homerless streak is now up to 133 at-bats, which, as of this writing, is the longest drought to start a season by any player who previously recorded a 50-HR season since Greg Vaughn went 132 at-bats in 2002, according to the Elias Sports Bureau. (Incidentally, Vaughn hung up his cleats the following year). Ortiz will try to break his own record later tonight when he steps in against Blue Jays rookie Brett Cecil. 

The Inner Workings of a Creator

The unreliable Saint Cayetano totally spit the bit last night. I've managed, though, to find some cold comfort in the possibility of Stephen Curry running the Garden floor in a Knicks jersey. These incredible FreeDarko animations of Dwight Howard and Derrick Rose, which they put together with adidas and, reportedly, Jurassic 5's Chali 2na, are also doing their part to keep my spirits high. 





If you haven't already purchased FreeDarko's Macrophenomenal Pro Basketball Almanac, well, you're about as useful to me as Cayetano imbroglione. Or the Los Angeles Clippers. 

Ping-Pong Prayers

Later tonight, before the Lakers and Nuggets tipoff in the first game of the Western Conference Championship, the National Basketball Association will hold its annual draft lottery. The Knicks have a less-than-inspiring 2.8 percent chance of winning the first pick, which they will use to select, most likely, either Blake Griffin or Ricky Rubio. "We have a chance, it's not a great chance but we'll see," Knicks president Donnie Walsh told the Daily News yesterday. 

This is where Saint Cayetano, the patron saint of gamblers, comes in. Cayetano is regarded as the intercessor of sporting men because, according to Catholic lore, people would bet him a rosary or votive candle that he wouldn't do something good for them. Cayetano usually delivered, even going so far as to give his vast family fortune to the needy, and, later, dedicate his life to the care of the sick. Good man, that Cayetano, although it's a bit unclear if he's responsible for any specific miracles, let alone the requisite three necessary for veneration. It seems, at least to this lapsed Catholic, that Cayetano's account is in arrears. He owes somebody a miracle, which is why I'll be praying to him--and the secular Saint Debusschere-- throughout the course of the day.   

Phil Coke's Nightmarish Afternoon Followed By Sleepless Night

After giving up two late runs Saturday afternoon to the Minnesota Twins, blowing a one-run Yankees lead in the process, lefty reliever Phil Coke couldn't get to sleep later that night. But it wasn't because he nearly cost the Yankees the game. That, it turns out, was the least of his problems. According to Jack Curry, Coke's current living conditions aren't quite what you'd expect from a New York Yankee, even one with 4.60 ERA and 1.15 WHIP. 

Coke lives beside a movie theater and a parking lot in Edgewater, N.J., and it was boisterous there on Saturday night. Plus, there was another issue.

“I don’t have anything covering my windows,” Coke said.

Welcome to the not always glamorous life of a major league rookie. Coke tried to solve his window problem after Saturday’s game. He drove to a store and bought drapes, shades, sheets and other household items. He brought everything to a register and was charged $600. Then Coke had a new problem.

“They rejected my bank card,” Coke said. “They were swiping it too fast. They swiped it about 14 times.”

With each swipe, Coke grew more agitated. The line behind him grew longer. He said he thought a few people recognized him as a Yankee. Agitation turned to embarrassment. Coke supplied a second credit card.

“They did the same thing with that one,” Coke said. “They swiped about 12 years of life off that magnetic strip.”

Coke said his latest paycheck was available on his first card, which, for a player who makes $403,000 a year, means there was considerably more than $600 available. Still, it was repeatedly rejected. Eventually, Coke paid with cash. But Coke only had $50 so he returned the larger items, which included anything that could have covered his windows.

I like Coke, but it serves him right for living in New Jersey. Take it from me, Phil: nothing good will ever come of living next to a movie theater in Bergen County. Nothing. 

Where Postmortems Happen

Two games 7s, two unremarkable contests. The Lakers beat the Rockets by 19, while 3,000 miles away, the Magic outscored the Celtics by the same margin. Neither game, though, was as close as the final score. Pau Gasol carried the Lakers to victory, and Hedo Turkoglo led the Magic, finishing with 24 points, including 12 from beyond the arc. The Lakers simply outlasted and outmuscled an undermanned--and undersized-- Rockets team. The Magic simply played their game, which, thankfully, didn't highlight Dwight Howard in the low post. The Magic hit roughly 62 percent of their threes, which is exactly what they needed to do to advance.  

That's my take, anyway. Here's a brief rundown of what some of the teams' beat writers have to say about last night's games, the good and the bad, the highs and the lows. 

Bill Plaschke, Los Angeles Times:

Having dragged this town kicking and screaming into an unwanted game of chicken Sunday, the Lakers at least had the decency to make it fun. Pau Gasol played with Ker-Pau cartoon strength. Kobe Bryant played with M-V-P defensive fervor.

Sasha Vujacic actually made a jumper. Derek Fisher actually had a steal. Andrew Bynum actually showed a pulse.

Jonathan Feigen, Houston Chronicle:

In the end, to win big in the NBA requires stars, even superstars, and by the time the series ended, the Rockets did not have them. The Rockets had to ask Aaron Brooks to fill that role, and that was a bit much to expect.

It also requires that certain steps are taken, steps the Rockets never took in the past.

They finally do have young players that will remain part of their core. It is like a young band that gets in the recording studio for the first time. That's when they hone their craft and become more than buddies in a garage.

Mike Bianchi, Orlando Sentinel:

Mark this down as one of the greatest days in Orlando sports history. This is the night, the Magic, the resoundingly resilient Magic, ignored all of the Celtics legend and lore and started building their own legacy of triumph and tradition.

[Snip]

On this, the 20-year anniversary of their inception, the Magic vanquished the most dynamic, dynastic champion this league has ever known. The Celtics have won 17 NBA titles in their proud history, but the Magic's Big Three of Howard, Rashard Lewis and Hedo Turkoglu had that look in their eyes like they aim to win their first.

And, now, they are halfway home. Eight wins from a championship.

Bob Ryan, Boston Globe:

The spirit was willing, perhaps, but the flesh was not up to the task. The Celtics could not stop a team that came out firing threes and never stopped. The Magic are very much a 21st-century team, and so it is appropriate that on a night they advanced to the conference finals for the first time in 13 years they did so by shooting significantly better from 3-point range (61.9 percent) than from two (47).

Alibay Barkley

The New York Times has an interesting profile of Alibay Barkley, a talented, but raw, hitting prospect from Washington Heights' George Washington High School, Rod Carew's and Manny Ramirez's alma mater. Compared favorably to the Phillies' Ryan Howard, Barkley is projected to be taken somewhere in the MLB 2010 draft, after a year at St. Petersburg College, a junior college baseball factory in Florida. How his future pans out, though, is anybody's guess: Barkley, it seems, is a little mixed-up:

The last seven years have not always been kind. Friends in the Bronx have died, his mother and three younger siblings live in a Queens shelter and Barkley skipped school and spent a lost year in Texas unsuccessfully trying to fast-forward his baseball career.

He is home now, planning his latest getaway from New York. For all the time and effort spent getting this far — on the verge of graduation, with the baseball draft a month away and colleges making offers — everything still seems so uncertain.

“All I wanted was to get away from New York,” Barkley, 19, said while sitting in the stands at George Washington High, the hilltop campus in Manhattan’s Washington Heights neighborhood with a baseball heritage that stretches from Rod Carew to Manny Ramirez.

“New York is home, but it’s always good to get away from home, understand?” he said. “It’s always good to get away and go somewhere where you don’t have to worry about one of your friends being killed or how your family or your mom is going to eat, or how we’re going to pay the light bill or the rent. Just get away and have fun. And play baseball.”

For his sake, I hope Barkley gets to play baseball for a very long time, especially if his coach thinks he could end up being a less strike-out-prone version of Ryan Howard. For a look at more of Josh Haner's photographs of Barkley, past and present, click here. 

Deconstructing Dwight

Like a lot of people, I haven't been particularly impressed with Dwight Howard's offensive game, particularly in the playoffs. Sure, he's an absolute beast, with shoulders approximately the size of my waste, but his offensive game is still limited to put backs, dunks and other high-percentage shots. Despite learning at the broken-down knees of Patrick Ewing, one of basketball's greatest jump-shooting centers in the history of the league, Howard can't play with his back to the basket, or more than 8 feet from the rim. Kendrik Perkins has done an admirable job of shutting him down on the low blocks, and, at times, even outmuscling the hulking Howard out of position, or forcing him into some terrible shots. 

I find it funny, then, that Howard wants the offense to run through him. It's simply not his game, and any attempt to accommodate Howard's odd request does a disservice to Orlando's otherwise fluid and better-than-average offense. Plus, it gives them almost no shot of winning. The guys at 7 Seconds or Mess agree with me. 

If you want to call Dwight Howard dominant, then point out the parts of his game that make him so special. He'll clean that glass for you and dunk it in the process. He'll swat Rajon Rondo's floaters away like a gnat. But don't try to prove to anyone watching closely enough that Howard deserves more opportunities to assert himself in the post. You'll look as silly as his running hook.

They even put together a snazzy video to back up their points.  

"Papi Stinks"

0-7, 3 ks and 12 men left on base. Ay Dios Mio!

Ortiz, for several seasons and countless playoff games, has injected Red Sox games with drama and fans with elation, his larger-than-life persona turning him into a near-cartoon hero. Yesterday, he was something else. More than at any point since he came to the Sox in 2003, Ortiz looked frail and human.

"I'm sorry, guys," Oritz said. "I don't feel like talking right now. Just put down, 'Papi stinks.' "

In a season chocked with frustration, Ortiz yesterday reached a nadir. He went 0 for 7 and left 12 men on base, which tied a team record, in a 5-4, 12-inning loss to the Los Angeles Angels. He was the last out of an inning four times. He struck out three times, including with the bases loaded and two outs in the fourth inning.

[Snip]

For now, Ortiz remains the Red Sox' designated hitter and their third batter in the lineup. Capable hitters surround Ortiz in the order, ensuring he'll have chances to blast out of his slump. The question is, how much longer can the Sox afford to wait?

"What Jordan Did to Ehlo Was Dead Wrong"

Earlier this morning, LeBron James visited Dan Patrick's radio show. Patrick asked James, who grew up, oddly, idolizing Michael Jordan and rooting for the Cavaliers, what he thought of Jordan's iconic jumper over an outstretched Craig Ehlo in the 1989 NBA playoffs, the first of Jordan's many, many, many signature shots. It seems the shot still raises LeBron's hackles: 

What Jordan did to Ehlo was dead wrong. For him to go up and act like he was going to take the jumper and wait for Ehlo to land on the ground. And then shoot it. He should have not done that to Craig Ehlo.

I doubt very much that LeBron actually remembers this shot. He was 4 at the time. Still, the iconic shot was on heavy rotation throughout the early 90s, and made a minor comeback a few years ago, in one of the best series of Gatorade advertisements ever conceived. There was, simply, no escaping the clip, or Jordan's greatness. Cavs fan or not. 

Brett Gardner 1, David Ortiz 0

Apropos of yesterday's post, I'd be remiss if I didn't point out that Brett Gardner last night joined the very long list of major league players with more home runs than the formerly unstoppable David Ortiz. Not only that, but all of Gardner's power numbers, believe it or not, are either higher than or within striking distance of Ortiz's. 

Gardner's batting average is 13 points higher, and his slugging percentage (total bases divided by number of at bats) is 25 points higher. Granted, Gardner has 50 fewer at bats than Ortiz, which pretty much explains the higher slugging percentage, but should Gardner and Ortiz even be compared as sluggers in the first place? That I'm even doing it speaks volumes about Ortiz's vertiginous drop, and I could have easily substituted for Gardner Pablo Sandoval or Coco Crisp both of whom have higher power numbers than the Artist Formerly Known as Big Papi. If I were a Sox fan, I'd really start to worry about Ortiz. As one Red Sox official recently told Ken Rosenthal, "If [Ortiz's] not hitting in June, our record will not be very good." From his lips to God's ears. 

Ay Papi!

Not that I'm complaining, but what the hell is going on with David Ortiz? He hasn't hit one out in 142-plate appearances this year. The last time he hit a home run was in Game 5 of the American League Championship Series against the Tampa Rays, in October, or about forever and a day in baseball parlance. Ortiz is suffering through a power outage that would make Enron (and Mark Teixiera) turn away in horror. Although it's far from time to report Big Papi's demise, it doesn't look good for the anointed "Greatest Clutch Hitter in the History of the Red Sox."

Yahoo! Sports' Gordon Edes crunched the numbers. The results aren't pretty, Sox fans:  

His performance at this stage resembles another large-bodied first baseman, Cecil Fielder, who at age 33 in 1997 hit three home runs in his first 201 at-bats and finished the season with 13 home runs in 98 games for the Yankees. A year later, after hitting 17, Fielder’s big-league career was over.

Since 1954, there have been 19 players who have hit 50 home runs in a season, including Ortiz, who hit a career-high 54 in 2006. Of those 19, only one, Greg Vaughn, went longer at the start of a season than Ortiz without a home run. Vaughn, who hit 50 for the San Diego Padres in 1998, went the first 37 games in 2002 for the Tampa Bay Rays without a home run. On May 18, on his 159th plate appearance and 133rd at-bat, he finally connected, and later hit another homer in the same game.

Vaughn, 36 that season, wound up batting .163 with eight home runs, and retired a year later. 

To add insult to injury, the maniacs at It is High... compiled a list of current Red Sox players who have yet to hit a home run this season. 

Tim Wakefield
Jonathan Papelbon
Jon Lester
Ramon Ramirez
Javier Lopez
Manny Delacarmen
Josh Becket
Takashi Saito
Hideki Okajima
Brad Penny
David Ortiz

All kidding aside, though, Edes also points out that Ortiz is the only 50-homer hitter to go this long into the season without hitting a homer, including Brady Anderson and Luis Gonzalez, two guys often accused of using performance-enhancing drugs during their respective 50-home run seasons. Like it or not, Ortiz's out-of-nowhere, four-year home run production, from 2003 to 2007, certainly raises more than a few eyebrows, especially following the recent A-Rod and Manny revelations. Personally, though, I'm more inclined to say Ortiz is just getting old, and is still dealing with the lingering effects of debilitating knees and wrist injuries, which could also explain his drastic drop in bat speed. Perhaps I'm being too generous. Maybe I'm still being naive. Either way, Ortiz is no longer producing terrifyingly high offensive numbers, which is fine by me.

Mr. Met?

I came across this little tidbit about Julian Casablancas, the lead singer of the Strokes, on Austin Scaggs' blog. He's a Mets fan. Writes Scaggs: 

If you happened to watch that game, you would have seen plenty of Strokes sightings -- every time a left-handed hitter stepped up to the plate, we were on TV! And the game was awesome. Our ace Johan Santana threw a gem and the Mets snuck out with a 1-0 victory.

I would have thought Casablancas was a Tigers fan, probably because the cap seems more Strokes-appropriate. But, no. Casablancas is, apparently, a lifelong fan of the Metropolitans. Here he is a few years ago talking about what it was like as a kid watching his favorite team with Yankees 2000, a pro-Mets and anti-Bombers website devoted, almost exclusively, to promoting a so-called Yankees curse.  

The Mets were kind of like, watching the last few years before 2006, they would get ahead and you still would feel like, like somehow they’d kind of let you down. They’d blow the lead and crush your spirit.

See, now it all makes sense. Casablancas can relate. When it comes down to it, the Strokes are really just the rock n' roll version of the Mets: overhyped, outmatched, and, ultimately, disappointing. 

Evan Help Us

Less than 12 hours after Major League Baseball suspended Manny Ramirez 50 games for using a banned substance, a startling revelation that shocked a league and fan base still reeling from Aex Rodriguez's earlier forced confession of using performance-enhancing drugs while playing for the Texas Rangers, Evan Longoria, the centerpiece of an impressive and dangerous Tampa Rays team, took Yankees pitcher Andy Pettitte deep into the left field bleachers. Six innings later, after Carl Crawford turned on a Mariano Rivera cutter, Longoria launched a second Rivera pitch about 450 feet, becoming the first person ever to hit a back-to-back home run against the previously untouchable Rivera. Longoria's homer was his 10th of the still-young season, an impressive number that becomes even more so when you add in Longoria's sterling .368 batting average and league-leading 38 RBI. 

If there were any doubt, Longoria, still only 23, is now the face of baseball. And not a moment too soon. I don't want to put too fine a point on this, but baseball needs Longoria right now, perhaps even more than the league needed Cal Ripken in 1995, after the infamous players strike, which ate up the conclusion of an exciting 1994 season-- and the World Series-- alienated baseball fans everywhere. In between then and now, though, we know now that the league, following the example of Commissioner Bud Selig, ignored unmistakable signs that the game's best players were juicing in the interest of the gate and unprecedented marketing opportunities. McGwire. Sosa. Bonds. Clemens. Giambi. Tejada. Rodriguez. Manny. Turns out they were all dirty; every other player of that time, like it or not, came of age in a highly dubious era, which gives me pause to say definitively if any player in the past decade was, in the strictest terms, ever clean.

Longoria is different, though. Since breaking into the league last year, three years into the baseball's punitive testing policy, Longoria has put up super-star numbers as cleanly and as free of doubt as humanly possible. Like the Milwaukee's Ryan Braun and, to a lesser extent, Boston's Dustin Pedroria and Kevin Youkilis, Longoria is helping us get beyond baseball's disreputable recent history with legitimate, eye-popping numbers. Here's how Longoria measures up to the so-called greatest talents of baseball's steroid era, courtesy of SI's Tom Verducci:

Impressive, to say the least. Good enough, even, to restore, at last, the integrity of the league.  

Iron Mike

Since we're on the subject of crazy, I thought I'd point out David Denby's review of Tyson, James Toback's documentary about Mike Tyson, the former heavyweight champion of the world and one-time "baddest man on the planet," who, after losing his crown, ended up on the wrong end of a number of financial, emotional and, yes, mental-health battles that left him weak-kneed and wobbly. Denby gets to the heart of Toback's film, and what's left of Tyson the fighter and, more poignantly, the man. He writes:

Those who were furious at Tyson will be made even angrier by Toback’s film, for here is a fresh provocation—an attempt to restore to Tyson the human dimensions that have been taken from him (by himself, of course, as well as by others). The movie makes it clear that, for all his snarls and outbursts, he is intelligent, candid, and easily wounded; that he is by turns inordinately proud and inordinately ashamed and, above all, intensely curious about himself, as if his own nature were a mystery that had not yet been solved. Out of shape, his face bizarrely marked by the tentacle-like tattoos of a Maori warrior, Tyson was forty when the movie was shot, two years ago, mostly in the luxurious white living room of a house in Los Angeles that was rented for the occasion. In between footage of his fights, he looks directly into the camera, in tight closeup, or is photographed from the side, also very close, a Cubist approach to portraiture that suggests a complicated man trying to express warring impulses. Some of these contradictions are funny, as when Tyson says that he now wants a strong woman, very strong, a C.E.O. type—“and then I want to dominate her sexually.” Even at bay, he must conquer in all things.

Sounds like a good one. Here's the trailer. 

Still Crazy After All These Years

Ron Artest's life-long decent into crazy has been well-documented. That he's bat-shit insane is nothing new. Last night, however, while explaining his recent less, well, combative on-court behavior, Artest dipped his finger, once again, into his personal, seemingly limitless, reserve of madness. The result is something spectacular, kind of like listening to a teenager hopped up on Ritalin giving a third-hand account of  something his cousin in Baltimore may or may not have witnessed once. 



"It went right through his heart, and he died. Right on the court." Priceless.

UPDATE: Although there is no way to know if Artest was there or not, this crazy story is, apparently, true.

A 19-year-old basketball player from Queens was fatally stabbed with a broken-off table leg today after a fight broke out during a basketball tournament, the police said.

The player, Lloyd Newton, was stabbed in the back with a leg from the scorer's table at the championship game of a Y.M.C.A.-sponsored tournament at the Niagara Falls Boys and Girls Club, the police in Niagara Falls said.

"An argument ensued about the score," Capt. Louis Curcione said, adding that one of the teams "thought they were getting gypped."

"A fight broke out between the players and about 40 fans in the stands," he said. "In the course of the fight, one person was stabbed in the back."

Mr. Newton was taken to the Niagara Falls Memorial Medical Center, where he was pronounced dead on arrival.

Brian C. Young, 16, of Niagara Falls, has been charged with second-degree murder. He was being held at the Niagara Falls jail pending his arraignment in city court today.

Joba

Three things happened last night that make me think Joba's about ready to take over. First, the 12 Ks. Granted, he probably only earned an honest--but still impressive--nine, but, after the disastrous first inning, Joba simply dominated the highly touted Red Sox lineup (sans Youklis) including eight consecutive strike outs to finish his night. 

Filthy. 

Second, he hit Jason Bay. Since arriving in Boston from Pittsburgh last summer, Bay has simply punished the Yankees, hitting an amazing .556 with three home runs and 10 RBI in just five games this year against the Bombers. Bay, who took Mariano Rivera deep in the first Yankees-Red Sox game this season, homered off Joba in the ill-fated first inning, giving the Sox an ultimately insurmountable 4-0 lead. The next time up, though, Joba got Bay looking on a questionable called third strike. The next time up, Joba put his first pitch in Bay's ribs, as if to say, "No more, Dudley Do-Right. 

Third, Joba attacked. I've had a nagging suspicion that Joba's been a bit too preoccupied about pacing himself through each game. Last night-- again, after the first inning-- he seemed to spit out that strategy like a stale wad of gum. For four straight innings, he flashed the same untouchable brilliance that he used to show setting up for Mo. "Screw it," he seemed to say. "Here it is, fellas, try and hit it." For better of for worse, that is Joba's modus operandi,  Take it or leave it.  

What captivated Yankees fans--and most of baseball-- when Joba first burst on the scene, was his aggressiveness. His fearlessness. His disregard for radar guns and pitch counts and, at times, the natural laws of physics. He threw hard, and threw strikes. Somewhere along the way, in the interest of becoming a reliable, front-line starter, he seemed to forgot this. All of the sudden, it was more important to be a complete 7-inning pitcher: efficient, even-keeled, emotionless. 

Last night, though, after the first inning, when his fastball was an un-Jobalike 89 mph,and the Yankees were already down four, Joba unleashed his talents and let loose his fist-pumping intensity, remembering, at long last, what got him here. "Here it is fellas, try and hit it." They couldn't.        

So it Goes, Or Something to That Effect

Last month, Berkley Trade released Armageddon in Retrospect, a collection of 12 previously unpublished Kurt Vonnegut stories about, naturally, war and peace. In his preface, Kurt's son, Mark, writes about his father's less-than-spectacular career as a Sports Illustrated writer:

"He was not good at being an employee. Back in the mid-1950s, he was employed by Sports Illustrated, briefly. He reported to work, was asked to write a short piece on a racehorse that had jumped over a fence and tried to run away. Kurt stared at the blank piece of paper all morning and then typed, 'The horse jumped over the f------ fence,'' and walked out, self-employed again.' ''

I've always been a big fan of Vonnegut's dark humor, particularly when he pointed his sharp instrument at himself, like in this passage from Slaughterhouse Five:

An American near Billy wailed that he had excreted everything but his brains. Moments later he said, 'There they go, there they go.' He meant his brains.
That was I. That was me. That was the author of this book.

Or these scenes from the Rodney Dangerfield classic, Back to School.

(Via SI)

To Catch a Thief

Tampa Bay Rays left fielder--and future New York Yankee--Carl Crawford tied a Major League record yesterday when he stole six bases off Jason Varitek, or, more specifically, the Boston Red Sox pitching staff. 

Crawford, who went 4 for 4 with an RBI, didn't realize he had tied the record until after the game. Said Crawford: "I found that out late. I wish I had known during the game. I probably would have broken it if I knew. I'd have definitely tried.

"I didn't even try. I don't know if that will ever happen again."

Crawford, who has yet to be thrown out this season, currently leads the majors with 17 stolen bases, four more than home wrecker Jacoby Ellsbury, and has stolen 19-straight bases without getting caught.   

Crawford shares the one-game stolen base record with Eric Young, Otis Nixon, and Eddie Collins, who accomplished the feat twice in 1912.

Cruel Intentions

Now you're just being mean.

"Just Give Me the Ball"

Right after Obama won the White House, New Yorker political correspondent Ryan Lizza wrote a fascinating article about the historic 2008 presidential campaign. Among other things, he shared this little anecdote about Obama: 

Obama, who is not without an ego, regarded himself as just as gifted as his top strategists in the art and practice of politics. Patrick Gaspard, the campaign’s political director, said that when, in early 2007, he interviewed for a job with Obama and Plouffe, Obama said that he liked being surrounded by people who expressed strong opinions, but he also said, ‘I think that I’m a better speechwriter than my speechwriters. I know more about policies on any particular issue than my policy directors. And I’ll tell you right now that I’m gonna think I’m a better political director than my political director.’ After Obama’s first debate with McCain, on September 26th, Gaspard sent him an e-mail. ‘You are more clutch than Michael Jordan,” he wrote. Obama replied, ‘Just give me the ball.’

And he wasn't kidding. The man isn't one to shy away from a challenge. Take, for instance, this edited clip from a recent White House shoot around with the Lady Huskies, who went a remarkable 39-0 this season, capturing the program's sixth national championship this past March. To Obama, though, they were just another group of people he could trump--this time with his impressive jump shot.  

(Via Gawker)

Oh, Ireland

Most of the time, I really do think the Irish can do anything, except, of course, paternity. I never thought, though, to include surfing on the list of extensive and far-reaching Hibernian accomplishments. Perhaps now I should. Here's a clip from Powers of Three, an upcoming documentary about three Irish surfers--Mickey Smith, Fergal Smith and Tom Lowe--in search of the perfect wave off the western coast of Ireland. 



I have to admit, this looks pretty cool--although, for the life of me, I don't understand why the Irish feel the need to color their experiences in tragedy. Parts of this trailer look--and sound--as if it could either be about surfing, a truth commission, sexual abuse or the Magdalen Laundries.

Good times.