The Real Starlin Castro

In some respects I hope that Starlin Castro is the next Andruw Jones.  First of all hitting 433 homeruns so far is pretty cool (as long as they weren’t chemically assisted).  Ten consecutive Gold Gloves makes a fan salivate, especially if it came from a shortstop.  But perhaps the piece de resistance is the fact that Jones hit two homeruns in the World Series for the team that drafted him and promoted him from the minors.  As a long suffering Cubs fan, the thought of Castro hitting two homeruns for the Cubs in a World Series is beyond comprehension.  So based on the above, I wouldn’t mind it if Castro was the Cubs version of Andruw Jones.

Upon further review, there are some striking similarities.  Both Castro and Jones had their first full year in the majors at age 20.  They both finished 5^th in the Rookie of the Year voting.  After three years in the majors Castro has 511 hits, Jones had 413 hits.  Castro had 57 steals to Jones 71 and Castro has a .336 OBP compared to Jones having a .339 OBP after three years.

Unfortunately it doesn’t end there.  Despite winning ten consecutive Gold Glove Awards, Jones was, on multiple occasions, pulled during a game and even DURING AN INNING for lackadaisical effort.  Castro has the same tendencies.  The first one is well known, because Castro decided to completely ignore a couple of pitches on a nationally televised game.  Bobby Valentine, before he went to Boston to deconstruct the Red Sox, went to great lengths to deconstruct Castro’s performance during the at bat.  Castro, apparently thinking of an out he made while batting, was playing shortstop and turned his back to the plate while Ryan Dempster was in the middle of his windup.  Many Chicagoans jumped on Valentine’s case for embarrassing Castro.  While I can’t stand Valentine, he wasn’t wrong.  Castro completely exposed his team while in the field and then-manager Mike Quade should have run out the backup shortstop and pulled Castro before Dempster threw another pitch.  The fortunate part about that play was that the ball was never put in play and Castro resumed paying attention with the next pitch.

This season he wasn’t so lucky.  The Cubs were in Houston last Tuesday.  Yes the Astros and Cubs are playing for the vaunted “Please Don’t Let Us Lose 100 Games Award” and so the game was basically meaningless.  But no game is really meaningless.  The Cubs were on a four game winning streak (in fact they won the following two games as well, so a win here gives them a nice seven game run).  Guys are playing for their job next year; managers are trying to instill a certain ethic expected of their team; etc.  With the Cubs trailing 1-0 in the top of the sixth, here’s what happened.

Starlin Castro led off with a single to center.  Steve Clevenger struck out swinging.  With one out and Castro on first Dave Sappelt doubled to right putting Castro on third.  Then the braindead kicked in.  Darwin Barney lifted a flyball to center deep enough to score Castro.  Sappelt thought it was deep enough for him to get to third.  Turns out he was wrong.  He was thrown out at third for an inning ending unconventional double play.  Not a big deal until you see the replay that shows Castro cadillacing his way home and actually looking over his shoulder to watch the play at third.  In doing so he slowed himself down enough that he didn’t cross the plate before Sappelt was tagged at third, therefore the run didn’t score.  Cubs lose 1-0.

Will Castro grow up?  He’s 22, so yes he has some maturing to do.  But at age 22 many people are college graduates and working in Corporate America.  It’s not asking too much for a 22 year old to play (mind you PLAY – not WORK) a game he’s been playing for probably 15 years to the fullest of his ability.

I love Starlin Castro.  Love him to the tune of a four year, .25 contract in my fantasy league.  And maybe he’s extra irritating because he’s both on my favorite major league team and my fantasy team.  Maybe he’s extra irritating because the Cubs broadcast all 162 games on television so I can see each of his mistakes where if he played for the Orioles or Padres I’d only see the really stupid mistakes that make the highlight reels.  Maybe it’s because I just finished ten years of Aramis Ramirez dogging it around the bases and in the field and I’m looking for a fresh, revitalized star that gives his all.

And maybe, just maybe that’s what Castro is and I will end up remembering him more for his spectacular bat and not being pulled off the field in the middle of an inning.

Getting Called Up To The Big Leagues

“Have you had skin cancer before?”  And with that question, my battle against cancer began.  To be honest, it wasn't really much of a battle.  I have friends, clients and family members that have fought against cancer.  They have lost body parts, undergone extensive radiation and chemotherapy and been part of experimental drug treatments.  These people have been to war.

My battle was more like a squirt gun fight.  Basal Cell Carcinoma is, in fact, a form of skin cancer.  But as I was told by the dermatologist it’s the best kind to have.  Kind of like being given a dining choice of sautéed liver, live slugs and rare bird droppings of Indonesia.  While the fried liver is at least the most healthy, you really wouldn’t want any of them.

The fight was basically over before the bell rang.  A 30 minute procedure to remove a chunk of my back roughly the size of a large marble and it was done.  [I will, however, have a new and empathetic view of the pumpkin this Halloween.]  Sure there were follow up visits to remove stitches and do a full body examination to make sure no more Basal Cells were lurking elsewhere.  But basically that was it.

So now I guess I’m in the community of cancer survivors.  But it really feels like I’m saying “I’m a member of the 2004 World Champion Red Sox” when in fact, yes, I was on the team - but as a back-up catcher with 24 at bats and was sent down in August.

It all started innocently enough with a somewhat routine visit to the dermatologist.  I say somewhat routine in that I had never been to the dermatologist before.  I was there for a thing on my back that had been there for over a year.  It was a source of entertainment for the family as we affectionately called it “The Lesion”.  It itched, it freaked the kids out (in a good way) and basically added to the amusement my body brings to the family (think Shrek without the green hue and ears on top of the head).

My primary physician said it was most likely an open wound but since it hadn’t healed itself over the course of a couple of months I should go to the dermatologist.  He was reasonably certain it wasn’t cancer.

The dermatologist said that whatever had been there was pretty much gone and it just needed to heal.  However, to be on the safe side, she was going to slice off a biopsy of the surrounding tissue and have it analyzed.

Had either health professional been as blasé about this as I had been for more than a year, it would never have been diagnosed.

*Side note – previously I had visited doctors for various leg, shoulder and other body ailments, which ended in a “there’s nothing there” diagnosis.  So rather than waste time, pay the co-pay and be poked and prodded, I chose to ignore and wait for the healing to begin.  All this despite my wife telling me for a year, “You should really have that thing checked out.”

A few days after the biopsy the call came and the rest is 2004 Boston Red Sox World Series history.

In a weird spin away from normal major league baseball, I’m hoping I don’t get called up to the majors again.

Take from this what you will.  I don’t think there’s a deep(er) message.  Maybe just don’t think you’re crying wolf even if in the past something was nothing.  This time it might be something, if nothing more than fried liver.

The Bar is So Low You Can Step Over It

This year it was my turn to get my driver’s license renewed.  As I sat there waiting to be processed, I was able to observe some interesting things.  What does getting a driver’s license renewal have to do with sports?  Let’s find out.

I saw what’s great about America; its diversity - people from all walks of life, all ages, all ethnic groups.  Not unlike baseball.  We have age diversity (Bryce Harper, age 19; Jamie Moyer, age 49).  We have Panamanians, Americans, Japanese, Dominican, Cubans and even White Sox.

One thing I couldn’t stand, aside from the waiting time, was that everything was dumbed down to the lowest common denominator.  Can’t understand someone telling you to wait in Line D?  Don’t worry, there’s a HUGE arrow leading you to a HUGE sign that says “D”.  Do we want the lowest common denominator driving a seven thousand pound vehicle?  My oldest daughter has yet to receive a B in school as she enters her sophomore year.  I’m not sure I want her on the roads.  And she’s intelligent.

I saw people bringing their children to the facility so the children could INTERPRET FOR THEIR PARENTS!!!  If you can’t speak the local language, I’m assuming you can’t READ the local language.  If you’re incapable of doing either, how can you drive safely?

In sports, especially children’s sports, everyone has to be included.  We’re not allowed to have just the best of the best or those deserving participate-win-succeed.  Hockey allows more than half their teams into the playoffs.  Basketball has eight teams in each conference get to the playoffs so many times the seventh and eighth seeds haven’t even won more games than they’ve lost.  In Major League Baseball, Bud Dumber has decided that more is more (which actually is less) in baseball by including another wild card team.  Supposed to create excitement or something.  In kid sports everyone receives a trophy nowadays – just for participating.

At the DMV, by allowing for interpreters, by having signs a second grader could follow, we are perpetuating the societal view that everyone should be allowed to do everything.

I have four children and that means that I am an expert on “The Incredibles”.  In the movie, the evil boy-genius has a plan of perfecting his “evil super powers”.  His ultimate goal is to give everyone super powers, because “if everyone is super, then no one is.”  That’s our society in a nutshell.

Everyone has trophies, certificates, driver’s licenses.  And if someone doesn’t, rather than encourage that person to raise his bar for achievement, society looks to lower the bar and find a way to create another category so that a certificate or trophy or license can be handed to that one unfortunate sole.

Look around you.  It’s everywhere.  The Mortgage Loan fiasco, while surely driven by greed and profit, could also be viewed as making sure everyone achieved the American Dream by owning a home way bigger than they need, whether they could afford it (deserved it) or not.

An argument could be made that Baseball’s Hall of Fame is getting to be the same way.  Statistically it still is home to the fewest members of the major sports.  But major leaguers with good careers are making it into the Hall.  But that’s another blog for another day.

California Dreamin'

For those of you loyal Monroe Doctrine subscribers, and this posting is dedicated to one in particular, you may recall that I was amazed we had received hits from all over the WORLD, yes I said WORLD.  (Monroe Doctrine, May 17, 2011 “The World is Warming Up to the Monroe Doctrine)  I couldn’t believe that anyone outside of the league would tap into our little fantasy life and so I figured the furthest interest would be North Carolina, home of the four-time champion Ruffins.

Again, I am amazed at the ability of the internet to make the world smaller.  In the last two months alone we have had hits from (I’m not making this up) Kiev, Kyyiv, Ukraine; Wichita, KS; Eden Prairie, MN; Russian Federation; Pordenone, Friuli-Venezia Giulia, Italy (Hi Dave on sabbatical!); Oakland, CA; Milpitas, CA; Buffalo, NY, San Francisco, CA (Hi Matt on vacation!); and four visits from a friend in Mountain View, CA.  I say a “friend” because Mountain View, CA has long been tapping in to the silliness of our league.  I always wondered what could be so interesting about a fantasy baseball league in the suburbs of Chicago that someone on the other side of the country would keep coming back.  So in true Monroe Doctrine form, we decided to find out.  Also true to form, we didn’t bother ourselves with actually interviewing Mountain View, CA, so what follows will no doubt be news to them as well as to you.

MD:  So who are you exactly?

MV:  If it’s all right with you, I would prefer not to use my name.  For reasons that should be obvious, consistently tapping in to a Fantasy Baseball Newsletter is not something I want my friends and neighbors to know about.  You can call me Mountain View.

MD:  Fair enough.  Let’s start there.  Tell us about Mountain View.

MV: In the spirit of full disclosure, I’m not in Mountain View, California.  That apparently is where my Internet hub is located.  Until I am convinced that the CFCL and Monroe Doctrine is not a shell front for some organized stalking organization, let’s keep working on the assumption that I’m in Mountain View.  With that being said, Mountain View is a beautiful bedroom community at the south end of the San Francisco Bay.  We’re close enough to get to either a Giant or A’s game in a matter of minutes, but far enough way that even in his most steroid-hopped-up-stupor Barry Bonds couldn’t reach us with a homerun.

MD:  What brought you to our humble publication?

MV:  Oh just general Internet searching about baseball related articles.  The Monroe Doctrine was listed in one of the results lists and I was intrigued.

MD:  What has brought you back?

MV:  There’s a certain je ne sais crois.  And let me tell you, most Californians don’t understand that phrase.  Call it whimsy, call it variety, call it Midwestern home spun Americana.  I check in every week or two to see if there’s something new that’s worth reading.  As much as I’ve enjoyed past articles I will say it would be nice if you stepped it up a bit.

MD:  Point taken.  Do you participate in fantasy baseball?

MV:  I do.  I guess I was hoping for some insight on players to acquire, winning strategies, etc.  But considering you haven’t had a winning season since 2002 I may be looking under the wrong streetlight.  On an unrelated topic, does The Professor write a baseball blog?

MD:  Ahem, he has written many politically insightful articles, but to date I believe he was steered clear of baseball.  How long have you been involved in fantasy baseball?

MV:  A couple of years.  I understand one of your owners is commissioner of a league based here in California.  Amazing dedication to fly halfway across the country to draft ballplayers you’ll never meet.

MD:  Agreed.  Not to toot our own horn, but that’s one of the amazing qualities about the CFCL.  We currently have three owners that make it a point to travel in from other states to attend the draft, live and in person.

MV:  That is amazing.  Now more about me.  When I go to games I tend to go to A’s games.  When I attend a Giants game, I’ll cheer for whomever they are playing.

MD:  Why is that?  Are you more American League than National League?

MV:  Not at all.  National League is in my DNA.  I just can’t stand the Giants.  The park is beautiful, but between Baker’s managing, Bonds, Kent and a few others, I just can’t stand the Giants.  I’m more of a Dodgers fan.

MD:  Fascinating.  It’s almost like the teams never left the burroughs of New York.  Any last comments?

MV:  Thanks for the shout out.  Now leave it alone.  I feel like I’m going to see some dork in a CFCL hat peering in my window some evening.  If so, you’ll have to change the name of your league to the Clandestine Following Creeper League.

Inspired by Youth

As much as I try to be consistent with my entries for the Monroe Doctrine, this year has been especially challenging.  The benefit of having active children is that they are active and there is a lot of chasing around to do.  That and having a job that will pay for the effort, but takes time away from writing also bites into trying to be creative.  So I have had to find my moments to be inspired to write.  Last night (or should I say, this morning) I was so inspired.

While the kids were waking up this morning I flipped on the MLB Network to see what I missed last night.  Of the games that were played, I knew that the Nationals beat the Marlins.  Seems Ozzie and Crew are having a hard time finding their feet and establishing their loyal fan base.  But what I didn’t know was how the Nationals beat the Marlins.  Turns out the how was Bryce Harper.  All of 19 years old and he is playing like he is from another planet.

He hit a single to left-center and because he was hustling out of the batter’s box, taking nothing for granted (note to Aramis Ramirez – this is how you play baseball) he took second when the outfielder bobbled the ball.  Then while on second he noticed that the pitcher had not called timeout and the shortstop and thirdbaseman were huddled on the grass between the mound and the base path.  Cool as a cucumber Harper got a walking start and then bolted for third, arriving before Hanley Ramirez could cover and before the pitcher had a chance to throw.  For good measure he made a diving catch running in from centerfield later in the game.

I may never own Harper in our fantasy league (CFCL – coming soon a Facebook page to “like” as the CFCL turns 30 next season) or at least at a price that is affordable.  But I will enjoy watching him.  At 19 he’s already won the respect of the veterans in his clubhouse.  He plays hard and has been named to an All-Star team.  At this point, anyway, he’s a good guy, dedicated and respects the game.  The type of guy you want on your team.  A guy like Jason Heyward.  Solid human being who also happens to be a pretty good baseball player.

And that’s why Ryan Braun will never darken the door of the Rebels clubhouse.  He cheated, he lied and he manipulated the system.  This year he’s putting up phenomenal numbers and I would hope anyone with a brain would understand that there’s a good chance he’s not doing it naturally.  He’s just immune since he beat the system.

Harper may not remain in the current light.  He has had moments that were less than stellar.  While he was in the minors last year he hit a homerun and blew kisses to the pitcher while circling the bases.  When I read that I figured this was another punk player that was believing his press clippings – press clippings that include a feature length article on him while he was fourteen (!).  But then I heard some perspective.  First of all, there was a little backstory to why Harper did what he did, I don’t recall the details.  And then I heard a guy on the radio say that while it wasn’t great behavior, it was the action of an 18 year old.  Think back to when you were 18.  If the worst thing you did was blow kisses to a pitcher after you hit a homerun, well, that’s not so bad.

Got Wood? Not Anymore We Don't

Kerry Wood rode off into the sunset May 18^th, 2012 after one final appearance against the White Sox.  As I watched that appearance, this article wrote itself in my head in about five minutes.  Obviously it’s taken a lot longer to get it from my mind to the keyboard.

I was struck with a lot of emotions that Friday afternoon, watching Kerry jog in from the bullpen for what we all knew was his final appearance.  Apprehension that he have a good outing.  Sadness that this was it.  Slight disappointment that his career didn’t have the Hall of Fame accomplishments it should have.  Pure joy as his threw three straight strikes to appropriately finish his career by striking out Dayan Viciedo.  And then as Kerry walked off the field something else happened that caused me to find some tears welling up.  As he reached the dugout his son came out to give him a hug.  Kerry lifted him in his arms and carried him off the field, eventually sitting next to him on the bench listening to his son talk about something, probably unrelated to the fact that his dad just pitched his final game.

Here’s where I begin the blasphemy with baseball fans.  I made the comment to my cousin that watching that scene with Wood and his son was the most emotional baseball moment since I watched the movie, no – not Field of Dreams but The Rookie.  Yes the Disney movie with Dennis Quaid.   If you’re willing to stick with me on this, I’ll explain.

When we watch movies we usually identify with the main character.  So in Field of Dreams we’re Kevin Costner, in The Rookie we’re Dennis Quaid.  The big scene in Field of Dreams that everyone gets choked up about is “Hey Dad, wanna have a catch?”  Great scene, very touching but it never really hit home for me like it did for others.  Now I know in the movie Costner’s character didn’t have much or any of a relationship with his father, but the thing that most men cling to in that scene is that it either reminded them of playing catch with their dad and making that father/son/baseball connection or wishing they could have one more catch.  I never had that connection/relationship with my dad.  Oh sure, we played catch, usually for about five minutes before he would think of some project he wanted to do around the house.  So while I loved Field of Dreams, the catch at the end of the movie didn’t make me want to play catch, it reminded me of the disappointment of not playing catch.

I watched The Rookie late one night while everyone was asleep.  As it progressed I saw the connection between Quaid and his son.  Having a four year old son of my own, I saw me and Cooper when Quaid had to leave his family to go to the minors.  I saw the heartbreaking phone calls home as he was conflicted with chasing his dream vs. missing his family.  The breaking point for me was when Quaid finally was called up to the majors.  He’s sitting in the ‘pen and looks up to see his family looking down at him.  That’s where it really got me, the pride of the family seeing that he made it and the pride in Quaid for his accomplishment and what it meant to his family, not just financially but also in the lesson to his children that if you set your mind to it, wonderful things can happen.  Cried like a baby watching that scene in the bullpen.

And so when Wood walked off the field into the arms of his son who isn’t much older than Cooper, I identified with Wood and the connection he has with his son.  So it makes sense, the Wood/retiring and The Rookie instead of Field of Dreams connection, right?  Well it does in my mind.

And even though we won’t see number 34 walking out to the mound any longer, we do have lasting images.  Wood pumping his fist as he struck out the 20^th Astro to end the game and then in the on-field postgame interview his hand shaking so bad he couldn’t hold the microphone still. 

Upon the completion of that game, The Professor (proud Owner of the Ruffins who owned Wood in ’98) jumped on the TQS message board and simply typed “Kerry Wood!” to which Head Copperfield responded “Hey look everybody!  Dave’s got Wood!”  The wit in our league runs like molasses.

My final thought on Kerry retiring is:  Should his number be retired?  The moment he walked off the mound against the Sox and in the ensuing days, I emphatically thought “Yes”.  Now that it’s been a few weeks, I still think that retiring Wood’s number would be appropriate.  The Cubs have retired four numbers for five players (Banks – 14; Williams – 26; Santo – 10; Maddux/Jenkins – 31) so it’s obvious they don’t just hand out retired numbers like candy at Halloween.  They also don’t have a policy of retiring a number only for a Hall of Famer.  Now it turns out the five players already honored will be in the Hall (Maddux is a lock) but Maddux and Santo had their number retired before their induction and for Santo his induction was certainly not a sure thing.

Maddux was honored for being a Cub but also more for his entire body of work.  As a Cub (in 10 years) he was 133 and 112, had a 3.61 ERA and a 1.24 WHiP.  He had three really good years including a Cy  Young Award and one post-season appearance before moving to Atlanta and becoming GREG MADDUX.  So honoring him for his entire body of work I will call that the “Something Special Factor”.

            As a comparison, if we look at Maddux vs. Rick Sutcliffe, only their Cub careers, we see come interesting similarities.  Sutcliffe average a 10-8 record for his 8 years with the Cubs, Maddux was 13-11 for his 10 years.  Sutcliffe had three good years as well, one of which was SPECTACULAR (1984), one Cy Young and two post-season appearances.  His ERA was close to Maddux; 3.74 vs. 3.61 and his WHiP wasn’t as good; 1.31 vs. 1.24, but not terribly off either.  As much as I love Sutcliffe and he’s one of my top three all-time starters for as long as I’ve been watching the Cubs, (Wood and Maddux filling out the top 3), I don’t think #40 should be retired for Sutcliffe.  That’s my argument, looking at the numbers, that Maddux benefitted from the “Something Special Factor”.

Banks, Williams and Santo essentially spent their entire career with the Cubs and crafted their Hall of Fame body of work at Wrigley, they didn’t need the Something Special Factor.

Fergie Jenkins had a little of both.  He became FERGUSON JENKINS when he was traded to the Cubs (much like Maddux when he signed with the Braves).  But I doubt he could have made the Hall simply with his Cub numbers, although had he not been traded he might have won the other 117 with the Cubs anyway, but history is he didn’t.  Logically his number is retired as much for the six straight 20 win seasons as it is for the Hall of Fame election.

Kerry Wood will never get to the Hall of Fame aside from whatever memorabilia made it from May 6, 1998.  But he did have May 6, 1998.  He had Game 5 of the NLDS against Atlanta in 2003.  He had numerous injuries that he . . .kept . . . coming. . . back . . .from.  He fought like hell to get back on the field, probably earlier than he should have.  He established himself as a fixture in Chicago with his Wood Foundation.  He stood in front of reporters after Game 7 of the NLCS in ‘03 and lied that he “choked” when two of his teammates had already booked flights to the Dominican Republic the day before.  He came back to Chicago in 2011 for significantly less money so he could come home and do whatever he could to get the Cubs to the post-season.  And if rumors are true, he took a bat to Sosa’s boombox.  For that he deserves a statue.

He had an unfulfilled career based on the promise we all saw in 1998.  But he was a beloved Cub, a committed Chicagoan.  He was, and is, something special and his number should fly from the foul pole forever.

Soccer To Me

The Oswego Panther Soccer Club hosted a tournament this Memorial Day weekend. Being the helpful sort and dedicated parents, Kim and I volunteered our services. Getting a break on next year’s fees increased our helpfulness, though not our dedication. We both took parking duty.

 I led off with the early shift on Saturday and Sunday. I came to realize you can really learn a lot about people simply waving them to a parking spot. I learned that some people are genuinely nice. They smile and wave as you direct them to their spot.

And some are asses, complaining about the distance of the parking slot to their child’s soccer field. The longest distance anyone had to walk was a few hundred yards, but that didn’t stop people from trying to negotiate special parking privileges.

 I learned that some idiots, I mean parents felt the need to drive 45 miles an hour, two feet from the car ahead of them because either 1) they’re late for the game or 2) they’re tired of sitting in line to get a parking spot. Folks, when your team is one of 146 participants, you have to expect there to be other people arriving and therefore there will be some delays.

 I learned that if you’re young and beautiful you get some perks. I say that because when I started my shift on Saturday morning I was loaded in an oversized golf cart, taken to a parking area and dropped off. No instructions on where to put the cars, etc. That’s ok. I’m a college graduate. I can identify the parking pattern and direct people in. But then right after my shift ended, my wife Kim (the young and beautiful that I mentioned above) arrived to do her shift. She texted me that she (and my oldest daughter Katelyn) were placed at a corner to make sure people DIDN’T park in a particular private lot. She was issued a reflective vest AND was given a radio!!! A vest and radio! I got a grass lot with gnats and no instructions. I learned a grass lot is what you get when you’re not young and beautiful.

 And I learned that to be a serious, devoted soccer parent there are requirements. You must own an extra large vehicle. Minivans are standard but if you could own an offensively large SUV that would be even better.

 Once you arrive at the soccer game you are not ready for the game (and let’s face it, not a worthy parent) if you do not have the following supplies: Cooler loaded down with plenty of drinks and snacks – don’t forget, this game is going to last an hour, you wouldn’t want to deprive yourself; at least three parachute chairs; a popup extra large umbrella to provide shade from the sun for an hour or protect you from any rain; a couple of extra soccer balls if for no other reason than so that they can roll wildly down the parking aisles as other cars are trying to park; a plastic Red Flyer Wagon to carry all of this; and please don’t forget the cell phone. You’re not a serious soccer parent if you’re not weaving down the parking aisle pulling the wagon behind you with one arm while the other has the cell phone plastered to your ear as you exclaim “I know right? So where are you? OH! I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE! You’ll want to take (insert name of local road) and turn left. The field is right there. Can you park next to us? We have the oversized SUV taking up three stalls, so we should be easy to find.”

 And I learned that since the soccer games take an hour, the parents with the offensively large SUVs have no idea what takes place in the parking lot after they walk out – not that I exercised that new piece of education.

Third Time's A Charm - Running With The Wolves

The Trilogy is now complete.  The 3^rd Annual Running of the Wolves 5K took place Sunday morning, May 6th.

Having run in the first two I needed something special for the 3^rd.  While I didn’t entirely embarrass myself in the first two runnings, I did run slower the second year compared to the first.  I needed to reverse that trend.  It’s time to get serious.  First thing I needed was a little divine intervention and found it at the race registration.

The stars were in alignment as I was assigned #25 for the race (as opposed to Sosa’s #21 last  year) - obviously paying tribute to former Cub and my favorite - Derrek Lee.

This would certainly send me off in the right direction to better my time of 35:12 last year (one minute, 4 seconds slower than my inaugural race).  But it wouldn’t be enough, so to make sure I could last the entire race, I bulked up, weighing in 15 pounds heavier than last year's race.  In retrospect, increasing weight for a distance race isn’t optimal, but the Twix and Kit Kat were going down easy.

OK, Divine Intervention and bulking up taken care of, what’s next?  Research!  My co-worker Katie told me about an article “The Couch-to-5K Running Plan” by Josh Clark.  I trained by printing off the article. Actually I didn't want to do too much too fast, so I had Katie  print it off for me. I did read it though. Well, actually I got winded a few paragraphs into it so I set it down but the idea was solid. 

Batting cleanup – science.  Aerodynamics to be specific.  I cut my hair one notch shorter than normal to provide the sleek line.  What I forgot at the time was that I wear a hat when I'm outdoors to protect my folically challenged dome from the sun.  Aerodynamics may have been cancelled out by the bill of my cap (not to mention the sluggishness of my gait).

Since shoes make the runner, I went out the week before and grabbed some comfortable Nikes that were on sale. According to their designer, Nike shoes are guaranteed to not tear an ACL. I needed all the help I could get.

And finally, like last year, perhaps the most important piece of equipment is a fully charged IPod.  I have found from the previous two 5Ks that not only is the music uplifting and can set a nice pace, if you crank the volume loud enough you can't hear your lungs wheeze and crackle.  Tim McGraw took me out for the first half and Straight No Chaser carried me home.

Did it work?  Was I successful?  Well, let’s define success.  Did I better my two previous times?  No.  I scorched the finish line at 36:23, coming in 5^th in my age group.

Did I escape with injury?  Definitely.  Just some stretched, tired leg muscles.  But no torn ACLs, slipped disks or high ankle sprains.  On the extra high side, my daughter Ally won a medal for finishing second in her age group and both she and my other daughter Kristi knocked five minutes off their times from last year.

And in the end, that’s what is really important.  Continuing a family tradition with my girls, times be damned.

Are You New Around Here?

Something that has been bothering me for the last year, maybe more, is why major league ballplayers seem to not know how to play baseball. Maybe it’s something that has been around forever, but for some reason I am just painfully aware of it the last few years. More and more I’m seeing players make fundamental mistakes. Even stranger is that I don’t notice it in the NFL, NBA or NHL. That could be because the NFL and NBA are nothing more than a distraction to get from the World Series to Spring Training and the NHL is, well, for Canadians.

 Further compounding the mystery are the announcers who will mention it and (if it’s a rookie) say “he’s new up here, he’ll have to learn to hit the cutoff man”. I get it if he mechanically threw the ball and missed the cutoff man, we all make physical mistakes. But how do you not know to hit the cutoff man, or move back to your base on a line-drive or take the extra base if the cutoff man is missed?

 These are basic laws that were taught to all of us in little league. In my mind, if you can’t learn these basics (and execute them) then you don’t advance to the next level. And if you don’t advance to the next level you sure as hell don’t get to the Major Leagues.

 I can understand if a ballplayer is just SO GOOD that they completely outclass their peers in Little League, high school, maybe even college. So possibly they skate by, missing some of the fundamentals (no need to hit the cutoff man if you can throw a laser to home to nail the slow moving runner). But by the time you get to the minor leagues, Rookie through AAA, you are moving closer to the skinny part of the funnel.

 The announcers or coaches will talk about a player’s mistake like the player is new to baseball. He’s new to the majors, sure, but he’s been playing baseball for the better part of fifteen years. The rules haven’t changed (aside from T-Ball, where now EVERYONE has to bat, score isn’t kept and EVERYONE gets a trophy). But it’s still four bases, six outs per inning and home team bats last.

 When I got married nineteen years ago, I was new to the marriage thing. But I wasn’t new to life. Just because I was married didn’t mean I didn’t know to get up and go to work in the morning, use a fork and knife to eat, and take a shower each day. It wasn’t like I all of sudden turned soup, salad and steak into finger food and Kim said “well, he’s new to marriage, he’ll figure out where the utensils are.”

 If you could hit curveballs in the minors and then can’t hit Roy Halladay’s, that’s simply the Selection Process weeding out the weak. But when you run to second as the batter bunts the ball in the air to the pitcher, . . . that’s what my five year old does because he doesn’t know the game. How can you be promoted to the highest level of baseball in the world with execution like that?

The Day The Home Team Discount Bit An Owner In The Ass

The Rebels fought hard to finish as high in the standings as possible in 2011 to squeeze the most out of their Home Team Budget. With a gaudy .04 at their disposal and only one player to use it on (Brian Wilson) decisions needed to be made.

All winter long in the palatial loft of Stubby Barnes’, Team Capologist, barn evaluation was being made of the current Rebel roster and the reports coming from the Giants about Brian Wilson’s elbow.

“We have Putz, Hanrahan and we just picked up Lidge,” barked Red Morrell, Rebel Executive VP.

“Yes,” replied Bentel, “but Lidge is getting old and his K/BB numbers have not been impressive lately. Plus Wilson has been a mainstay in our pen since we snagged him in 2006 in the Free Agent Pool. We worked hard to get the four cents. I want to use it if it makes sense.”

Capologist Barnes seemed to side with Bentel. “If he’s sound coming out of spring training and the league doesn’t overprice him, I say we grab him,” Barnes said conspiratorially.

Over at DoorMatt headquarters, Team President Matt Bentel and GM Wayne Rice had their own decisions to make.

Quick aside - Wayne could join Rebel Headquarters any time he wants and at any price. Not because he’s helped guide the DoorMatts to four money places in the last six years but because he is a dead ringer for Randy Owen, lead singer for Dem Rebels official music group – Alabama.

Having snagged the Sweet Spot they had the full complement of six cents to use toward their Home Town Discount players. But they had to decide from among the likes of Shane Victorino, Josh Johnson, Jair Jurrjens, Garret Jones, Carlos Marmol, Luke Gregerson and Dan Uggla.

The conversation went pretty easy at times. “Carlos Marmol,” began Wayne. “I think we cut ties completely.”

“I agree,” concurred Bentel. “I can’t take another season of being a Cubs fan and having him on my CFCL roster. The grabber’s going to come eventually. I don’t need Marmol being the reason.”

“OK, so that leaves three pitchers and three fielders with .06 to use,” recapped Rice. “Maybe we look at grabbing one or two from each group.”

“Johnson scares me,” said Matt. “I’ll play it real cool at the draft, maybe even feign some interest to drive the price up, but unless he’s sitting at .09, I’m not taking him. I don’t think he’s fully recovered from his injuries. We have a pretty strong pitching staff, so I don’t want to take Johnson or Marmol or Jurrjens for the sake of using the Home Team Discount.”

“What we need is offense,” concluded Rice. “If we could get Victorino and his five categories back in our outfield, that would be righteous.”

“Don’t talk like that, it’s embarrassing,” chided Bentel. “But I like your thinking. We need Victorino. Let’s plan on getting him back and see how our budget and the draft plays out for guys like Gregerson and Jones.”

“Sweet!” exclaimed Rice. “Should we do our secret-supercool-trademarked high-five and hip bump?”

As a result of this incredible preparation, the DoorMatts avoided (through two weeks) Johnson’s 8.38 ERA; Jones’ platooning one homerun; Marmol’s plethora of blown saves; Jurrjens 7.71 ERA; Gregerson’s 1.8 WHiP and no holds; and Uggla’s .300 OBP and four RBIs. Meanwhile they did benefit from Victorino’s four steals, .381 OBP and six runs scored.

Meanwhile on the southside of the country, Rebel management took a different approach. The Rebels had picked up Brad Lidge at .03 during Winter Waivers to add to the stable of Hanrahan and Putz. The closer the time came to Roster Freeze Day, the more numerous and lengthy the meetings became in Barnes’ loft. A lot of hay was thrown around weighing the options. Morrell mused that they could keep Lidge and not worry about Wilson.

Bentel and Barnes were concerned that Lidge was coming off an injury and didn’t really have a role in the Nationals bullpen, with Storen and Clippard firmly entrenched in the closer and set-up role respectively. Not to mention David Hernandez lurking around waiting for a chance.

Ultimately it was decided to release Lidge (who would become the closer when Storen fell to an injury) and keep an eye on Wilson in the draft, hoping not to overpay. Bentel’s approach was to use the Home Team Discount if it meant settling on a salary for Wilson in the low to mid teens. All the spring training reports were that Wilson had a “cranky” elbow but would be ready by Opening Day.

“At the time it seemed like a good strategy and on Opening Day things fell the way we wanted,” recalls Bentel. “Wilson was nominated late in Round 3 after guys like Heath Bell, Huston Street, Carlos Marmol, Jonathon Papelbon, all of who – except for Marmol – went for more than Wilson.”

“We had the budget and needed another guy for our bullpen. We knew Wilson, liked him for his 35-45 saves since 2008 and dammit we had the Home Team Discount we worked so hard for.”

Looking back on it, Dem Rebels could have used the .15 spent on Wilson and the .05 they left on the table (for a total of .20) to go after Javy Guerra, Sergio Romo or even Ryan Dempster.

“That dog won’t hunt,” proclaims Bentel when that line of thinking is suggested. “Brian’s been an integral part of our team for years and I stand by my decision, even if Red and Stubby throw biscuits at me at mornin’ chow and call me ‘hayseed’”.

Draft Day 2012

CFCL Draft Day 2012 (entering our 29th year – “We’re Not Even Half Way There!”) took place Sunday, April 1st.

It’s always a busy time before the actual draft kicks off. We have to collect league fees, take the league photo, go over league business, sign the Copperfield Trophy and elect a New Executive Committee.



Confusion rumbled through the pre-draft activities as Dem Rebels owner, Rich Bentel, was seen wearing an Oakland A’s hat. Speculation was that Bentel is a huge Moneyball fan. In reality it came down to draft prep. The Rebels were hoping to sneak Dave Stewart and Carney Lansford on their team. Plus, it accessorized well with the Head Rebels attire. Being a slave to fashion is not an easy endeavor. Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.

Amazingly everything went off without a hitch. All owners arrived before the requested 7:30am time and we were able to launch the draft ahead of our 8:00am scheduled time. However, we did have an amusing and possibly hurtful event. Seven owners put themselves on the ballot (The Ruffins, Bulls and Kenndoza Line recused themselves). Perhaps not surprisingly last year’s members were re-elected (Rich Bentel, Tim Morkert and Mike Coulter). The amusing/possibly hurtful event was that everyone received at least one vote. Everyone that is, except the DoorMatts. As the last ballot was read and the realization that Matt Bentel did not garner one vote (kudos to Matt for not voting for himself), he let loose with an expletive filled tirade much to the amusement and enjoyment of the rest of the league.

Matt must have felt much like anyone who has been rejected or denied “friendship” on Facebook. EVERYONE accepts EVERYONE as a friend. To not be accepted makes more of a statement than to be accepted. To not receive a vote could be more powerful than the single votes received by the Twin Killers and Stranger Danger.

Once everyone had settled in and stopped laughing with (or at the expense of) the DoorMatts, Dave Holian (A.K.A. The Professor) launched the CFCL draft for the 26th year in a row with the Ruffin Privilege. For the first time ever, a contest was attached to the Privilege. Some history first – Every year since he has been in the league, The Professor has nominated the first player of the draft. So this year, Co-Commissioner Bentel attached a contest to the nomination. Any team that could guess the player nominated would receive a DVD of “For Love of the Game”, starring Kevin Costner. Kenn Ruby correctly guessed that David Wright would be the first player nominated. He seemed less than thrilled by winning the “sappy-sucky movie.”

As a side note, the Ruffins reacquired David Wright at the salary of .27.

Then the real bidding kicked into gear. The Twin Killers, Candy Colored Clowns and Kenndoza Line all swung their purses at each other when the next player, beleaguered Ryan Braun, was nominated. The Killers were the last team standing, taking Braun and his steroid baggage at .51.

Shortly before or after the Ruffins Privilege, Tim Morkert made an observation. Granted we were in an opulent conference room, but the table was a hard oval making the sight lines difficult. Morkert, an educator of our youth, was struck with a thought that having our name cards balanced on end, rather than lying lengthwise would provide an easier indicator of an owner still in the bidding and thus the Morkert Innovation was born.



Two hours into the draft as Round 5 began, Drew Stubbs was nominated. During the bidding for said Drew Stubbs, inexplicably the skin quality of Alfonso Soriano came up. The Ruffins commented that Mrs. Ruffin says that Soriano has beautiful skin. Apparently it's not a one time observation. Every at bat there's an unbelieving shake of the head, slight smile and comment "What beautiful skin". As The Professor pointed out, Mrs. Ruffin's observation is ALWAYS followed by Soriano wildly swinging at a curveball six inches off the corner of the plate. That prompted the Rebels to point out that their oldest daughter thinks Soriano is a great player. That prompted the Clowns to point out one of their kids thinks Soriano strikes out every time at bat. All this during the bidding of Stubbs.

For the rest of the draft, if an owner had any concerns about increasing the bid on any player, they were either encouraged or discouraged by other owners with comments about that player’s skin quality.

Alfonso “Beautiful Skin” Soriano went to the Danger for .07

For all his inspiration and Innovation earlier, Mr. Morkert wasn’t immune to the slow points of the draft. During the bidding for Juan Rivera Tim, intelligently, was looking ahead at his team’s needs, specifically catcher. With Tim being lost in thought a call went out saying “Tim you’re up.” Not realizing he was to bid to either increase the bid or drop out on Rivera already in progress, Tim’s response was “Chris Snyder for a penny.” And thus the Chris Snyder Incident was born. The Revenge quickly recovered from any embarrassment and passed on Rivera.

With the next player nomination Dem Rebels brought down the house by nominating Chris Snyder for a penny. It was an innocent move since the Rebels were desperate for a catcher (which is redundant since Chris Snyder was the nominated player). Snyder flew through the bidding, including the Revenge who apparently didn’t want to double his salary to .02 and landed on the Rebels roster for .01.

The traditional provision of Twizzlers and pretzel rods had an unfortunate turn. Usually the goodies make an appearance around the third round – at least that’s how Co-Commissioner and former team owner David Mahlan handled things. Lamenting not getting the catchers he had targeted and further whining over the dearth of talent remaining at that position, Co-Commissioner Bentel didn’t whip out, as it were, the Twizzlers and rods until late in the draft. Catchers played a devastating role in the 2012 draft.

In what is thought to be a CFCL first, the owners cruised through three rounds before taking a break. This put the league on a pace to finish faster than last year. This year’s Auction Draft was completed in a snappy four hours and fifty-eight minutes, besting last year’s time by twenty-six minutes.

The Candy Colored Clowns brought an end to the draft by acquiring Jorge DelaRosa at 12:53pm.

An interesting note. Joey Votto was kept going into the draft by the Kenndoza Line at .52. During the draft two other players went for .50+ (Carlos Gonzalez, .52 and Ryan Braun .51). Going back as far as 2006, there was no more than one player drafted in the .50 range (2011 – Joey Votto .52; 2010 – None; 2009 – Albert Pujols .50; 2008 – Chase Utley .53; 2007 – Albert Pujols .55; 2006 – Bobby Abreu .50).

Heeeere's Nick!

It’s time to re-meet Nick Hansen, Owner of the Eukenott Beatniks and former owner of Nicks Picts. Here’s the Monroe Doctrine legal disclosure:

Due to scheduling conflicts and time constraints we didn’t bother ourselves with the formality of actually interviewing the new owner. I’m sure what follows will be news to him as well as you.

MD: Welcome back, Nick! It’s been too long. So, to start off, what’s with the team name?

EB: Well Eukenott is a little eatery that is home to the best Italian Beef you’ll ever have. It’s name lends itself so well and Beatnik is really my alter ego. I may be fluent in English and Computer-eze, I’ve thrived on the “just off the beaten path” and besides – I look really good in turtlenecks.

MD: OK, that begs the question. If you’re so good at writing computer programs, why didn’t you ever write an equation that allowed the Picts to come in first?

EB: While I fancy myself quite the programmer (I’ve won awards!), there are certain limits to even my genius. I have to be given quality to start with, and well, that hasn’t happened so far.

MD: Can you describe your rivalry with Dem Rebels?

EB: I’ll say this - that last Q&A goes a long way to explain why there’s such a rift between us.

MD: Try not to break the fourth wall, Nick.

EB: Whatever. I’m allergic to flannel and moonshine. He never seemed to appreciate the finer qualities of tartan. We’ll see how he feels about turtlenecks, berets and rectangle sunglasses while we’re scoring on him more than the Kardashian sisters.

MD: You were gone for two years. Why?

EB: Well, I moved to Nebraska initially and found that there is so much to do, nightlife, nature, creative energy outlets; that I couldn’t focus on baseball. That and the fact that, interestingly, there is no Internet in Nebraska. So during the season I had to conduct my league business via carrier pigeon which just got messy.

MD: Is it true that Commissioner Bentel serenaded you with a Christmas song to lure you back to the CFCL?

EB: Carol of the (Base)Balls would have been nice, but Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer did its job. Yeah, he’s been begging me to come back for a while. It got embarrassing. So I finally relented and decided to look forward to the six and half hour drive back to Chicagoland next spring.

MD: So where officially are the Beatnik corporate offices?

EB: We’re located in Sioux City, Iowa (“Iowa! Gateway to Nebraska!”) hard along the banks of the Missouri River. One mild F-1 Tornado, and believe you me we get plenty of those ripping through town, and we’re in Nebraska. Matter of fact, Tornado Season correlates very closely to our fourteen game homestand this summer. We bring a whole new meaning to the term “wind-aided homerun”.

MD: Recently you e-mailed a picture of David Hasselhoff and some puppies. Care to explain?

EB: Well I could say that my wife (the loving and oh so understanding Elizabeth) high-jacked my computer while I got up to get some hot green tea and a biscotti, but there’s a chance she’ll read this, so I have to tell the truth. While it has nothing to do with the Beatniks, I do own every album Mr. Hasselhoff has recorded. He’s an unappreciated and misunderstood musical genius. The people over in Germany have it figured out.

MD: You do understand that your name, The Beatniks, lends itself to derision by calling you The Beat-Nicks? Every team that finishes above you in the standings could call you that.

EB: I’ve thought about that. But let’s be honest, on average only eight or nine teams will be saying that each year. I’m not worried.

MD: There’s nothing else to say. Thank you Nick. Welcome back! You were sorely missed.