Goodnight Oakland A's

Goodnight Oakland A's by Jeremy Wesler

• Opening Day in Oakland (Apr 2, 2008)
• Red Sox @ A's 2009 Game 1 (Apr 13, 2009)
• Red Sox @ A's 2009 Game 2 (Apr 14, 2009)
• Red Sox @ A's 2009 Game 3 (Apr 15, 2009)
• Cheap Baseball, Good Baseball (May 20, 2010)
• Road Win (Apr 20, 2011)
• Red Sox Hit Bottom (Sep 1, 2012)
• Spring Break - Baseball and Prisons (Apr 9, 2015)
• Sean Manaea No-Hits the Red Sox (Apr 22, 2018)

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Larry Beil calmly explains the situation …

Let's Go Dro-ones

 St Louis Cardinals @ Boston Red Sox, May, 12, 2023

STL 2 0 0 0 0 3 0 0 3 | 8 14 1

BOS 0 0 0 2 2 0 0 2 0 | 6  9 1

WP: Ryan Helsley (1-2)

LP: Kenley Jansen  (1-1)

Notes: pre-game ceremony to honor Kenley Jansen's 400th save; Red Sox debut for James Paxton; blown save Jansen; OF assist Masataka Yoshida (Tommy Edman at home, 9th inning); post-game drone show

 

Opening Day

Baltimore Orioles @ Boston Red Sox, March 30, 2023

BAL 1 0 0 4 3 0 2 0 0 | 10 15 2

BOS 1 0 0 1 0 2 0 3 2 |  9 11 1

WP: Kyle Gibson (1-0)

LP: Corey Kluber (0-1)

Note: Opening Day at Fenway Park, 38°F & sunny, MLB's pitch clock introduced, BOS pitchers walked 9 batters, BAL runners stole 5 bases, Donald Trump indicted

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UPDATE (Apr 5th):

artist's sketch of Trump's arraignment, Manhattan Criminal Courthouse, Thomson Reuters

Three Nights of Baseball

1 - Chicago Cubs @ San Francisco Giants, July 30, 2022

CHC 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 3 | 4 10 0

 SF 0 0 2 3 0 0 0 0 X | 5 07 1

WP: Carlos Rodon (9-6)

LP: Adrian Sampson (0-2)

Note: Will Clark's number 22 is retired in pre-game ceremony

2 - Atlanta Braves @ Boston Red Sox, August 11, 2022

ATL 0 0 0 3 0 0 2 2 1 | 8 12 1

BOS 0 0 0 0 1 0 3 0 0 | 4 09 0

WP: Kyle Wright (14-5)

LP: Nick Pivetta (8-9)

Note: Interleague

3 - Richmond Flying Squirrels @ Portland Bean Suppahs, August 13, 2022

RIC 2 0 0 0 0 1 0 3 0 0 2 | 8 11 1

POR 1 2 0 3 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 | 6 08 1

WP: Cole Waites (2-2)

LP: Dylan Spacke (1-5)

Note: Double-A, 11 innings, Portland Sea Dogs renamed "Bean Suppahs" for a promotion

Fair Play

I am reflecting on the concept of 'fair play' as I follow both the 2020 World Series and US Elections. Perhaps as consolation for a Red Sox fan, as we watch every highlight play from Mookie Betts, is our knowing the Yankees and the Astros are out. I still love Mookie, Dave Roberts, and Joe 'Fight Club' Kelly who are all on the Dodgers, but it feels weird to root for the Dodgers (coming from the San Francisco Bay Area). Though I respect the Rays and their approach to the game, if a 'moneyball' team had to be in the Series, I wish it was the A's. 'Fair play' doesn't care what we want as fans, only that the players act in accordance with agreed-upon rules – whether the realm of competition is in baseball, politics, ideas, or the selection of Supreme Court Justices. Anyway, it seems the Series is off to a good start.

Another consolation is more difficult to explain – but exists in the realm of appreciating what it means to win and lose. I'm subscribed to a baseball podcast created by Ben Reiter, a writer for Sport Illustrated. His podcast, The Edge, focuses on the Houston Astros, a team that has been the subject of much of his writing. But this is a personal, soul-searching trip through their sign-stealing scandal. So it's not a podcast for Astros fans, but for baseball nerds who are (maybe) rooting against the Astros – or who are at least rooting against cheating.

 

When someone (a team) we care about suffers tragedy (a devastating loss), we hope some good comes from it. In this case, the tragedy involves not losing, but winning the World Series. So the winning cannot be the good, even though the win is not forfeit.

To determine the good, we separate winning from good and ask: why does the best team in baseball feel the need to cheat? And what becomes of the sports maxim, 'may the best team win'? Reiter's deconstruction includes a deep-dive into the American competitive psyche, and sounds an echo of the words that ring in my ears this election year: we’re going to win so much, you’re going to be so sick and tired of winning. Though we may not achieve a 'proper' or 'just' resolution, in the asking there is catharsis.

Such winning, both callous and hollow, devalues everything we love about the game or the process – in a way that losing never could. From such a violation, though we may not attain it, it's our right to seek justice.

For example, the first episode introduces us to Mike Bolsinger, a journeyman pitcher with the Toronto Blue Jays. He pitched against the Astros on the night of August 4, 2017, and got rocked: 0.1IP, 4H, 4R, 4ER, 3BB, 0K, 1HR, 8BF, 29-13Pc/St. However, programmer and Astros fan, Tony Adams, analyzed all the audible banging in all the home games in 2017, and found that the Astros used their sign-stealing-camera-to-trash-can system more times than any other – on the night of August 4th. Bolsinger never pitched again in the major leagues.

The Astros' cheating isn't just an abstract injustice against 'baseball' or 'sportsmanship' – it's a personal injustice. In February, Bolsinger sued the Astros, seeking damages and the donation to charity of all $31 million in World Series bonuses. He wants answers:

"How you think it's okay?" would be probably the number one question that I'd ask. Why did you think that this was right? How can you not think that this was wrong, what you did?

Those are excellent questions, important questions. Justifiably, Bolsinger is sick and tired of the Astros' winning. However, the podcast is a mea culpa for Reiter, who adds some questions of his own:

After the scandal broke, I spent a lot of time agonizing over my reporting, searching my memory and my notes for any thread I might have been able to pull that would have unraveled the whole thing. I couldn't find one. 

So I decided to go back to the story that has defined my career and dig deeper, to understand the specifics of how the Astros cheated: who benefitted from it? who's to blame? and what about it made everyone so angry?

I aslo want to ask bigger questions about how corruption takes root, and how an institution's culture informs the decision-making of those who are a part of it. If you're skeptical, I get it. I am, or at least I was, 'Astrodamus' – the guy who supposedly knew everything about the Astros, except for the enormous secret that disgraced them. But that's exactly why I've spent the better part of the past year working to get the story right, and to try to answer the biggest question of all: what drove one of the most forward-thinking organizations in the history of sports not just to the edge … but over it?

The story of the Astros scandal is a very American story: a bunch of high-paid, super-talented over-achievers who resort to illegal acts in order to win. The highly-paid and super-talented don't need illegal acts to win on most days, but regardless, real over-achievers employ them. "If you're not cheating, you're not trying." Which means they are happy to crush the fair-minded and the merely talented along the way. Reiter reminds us that the Astros play in a park that used to be called Enron Field.

I have questions, too. Why can't we accept losing, i.e., not winning? What or how are we willing to corrupt in order to win? What if the achievement of our ultimate goal becomes a shameful embarrassment? What are the real-world consequences if we don't play fair? Are there any, in a culture where the only thing that matters is winning?

We are just a dozen days now from the US Election. There is a 'mute-button' debate tonight; I hope it goes well.

Portugal is in the midst of a serious and sharp increase in the case count for Covid-19, and reports a record 3,270 new cases today. A few days ago, Portugal blew past the one hundred thousand mark, and has risen from fifty-first to forty-third place on the table of nations.

cases: 41,861,291 global • 8,634,927 USA • 109,941 Portugal

deaths: 1,140,555 global • 228,013 USA • 2,245 Portugal

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UPDATE: Following this blog post, I came upon a TED video from Prof Michael Sandel, who asks his own questions on the topic of 'the divide between winners and losers':

If you want to do more deep thinking on 'fair play', you can binge-watch Prof Sandel's course "Justice: What's The Right Thing To Do?":

• Episode 01 "THE MORAL SIDE OF MURDER"
• Episode 02: "PUTTING A PRICE TAG ON LIFE"
• Episode 03: "FREE TO CHOOSE"
• Episode 04: "THIS LAND IS MY LAND"
• Episode 05: "HIRED GUNS"
• Episode 06: "MIND YOUR MOTIVE"
• Episode 07: "A LESSON IN LYING"
• Episode 08: "WHATS A FAIR START?"
• Episode 09: "ARGUING AFFIRMATIVE ACTION"
• Episode 10: "THE GOOD CITIZEN"
• Episode 11: "THE CLAIMS OF COMMUNITY"
• Episode 12: "DEBATING SAME-SEX MARRIAGE"

UPDATE 2: Chris Thompson at the sports blog The Defector has a strong reaction to Reiter's podcast (the comments are also quite a lot of fun). And I'll admit that there is some pleasure in listening to him squirm via podcast, but as a Red Sox and Patriots fan, it's hard to say much more.

Sean Manaea No-hits the Red Sox

The 2018 Red Sox were off to an historic start: 17 wins and 2 losses – great pitching, some amazing come-backs, five grand slams (in twelve games), and a four game lead in the AL East. They rolled into Oakland after sweeping three from the AL's second best team, the Angels (13-6), essentially knocking them into second place in the West. They took game one from the A's, 7-3, after Mitch Moreland's supplied that fifth granny, and the bullpen made a great effort in support of a shaky come-back start by Drew Pomeranz.

So it was with a lot of anticipation that we headed to the Coliseum last night to watch what was, on paper, the marquee pitching match-up of the series: the A's Sean Manaea versus the Red Sox' Chris Sale – two of the league's best lefties.

Manaea started off by walking Mookie Betts, but got Andrew Benintendi to ground into a fielder's choice, then struck out Hanley Ramirez and JD Martinez. Manaea would proceed to keep the Red Sox off the bases except for an error by Marcus Semien on Sandy Leon's bloop pop. Leon would advance as far as second base on a wild pitch, but Manaea would strike out Jackie Bradley Jr to end the threat (JBJ would strike out three times).

The A's would scratch out three runs on Sale; Semien would score all of them. Sale was not in bad form, but despite striking-out ten A's and walking one, he was not his "other-level" super-sharp self.

In the bottom of the ninth, Manaea passed 100 pitches thrown, and was down to his last strike on Benintendi, as the crowd stood and cheered each throw. But Beni worked a full count, then walked to bring Hanley to the plate. But Hanely ground into a fielder's choice to end the game and seal the no-no.

It was tough to watch the Sox lose, but amazing to witness a no-hitter. The energy in the Coliseum was amazing and, of course, Manaea was truly impressive: ten strike-outs, two walks, and only three batters above the minimum.

Spring Break - Baseball and Prisons

Spring Break gives us some time to explore some of the things that the Bay Area and its (very) extended neighborhood has to offer. Our first stop is Scottsdale, Arizona, to visit with the World Champion San Francisco Giants at Spring Training.

Fast-car tie-in: we rent a white Mustang convertible. We see them everywhere. The white Mustang convertible is to Scottsdale as the silver Prius is to Berkeley.

Dodgers at Giants - March 29

Arrived in Phoenix, and immediately drove to the hotel to leave the luggage and then down to Scottsdale Stadium for a Sunday afternoon game with the hated Dodgers. Wow, was it hot in Scottsdale (about 95 degrees); felt like mid summer. The lawn, where we had tickets, was over-booked, and we could find no place to sit, so we paid our way into the food terrace in center field (thanks Tony). The "lawn" sounded so cool when I bought the tickets, but a very frustrating system on a crowded day. Blazing sun; hard to enjoy the game, anyway. Very hard to keep track of the goings on, too, as there was no decent info display for the folks looking in from the outfield; the left field board was hard to read from the glare. Lost it in the sun.

But the little Stadium is quite nice, with a decent food court  and concessions behind the left field stands. Excellent location right in downtown Scottsdale with free parking a short cart-ride away; the golf-cart taxi system was very welcome. SF won 11-9. The Gitants' young third baseman, Matt Duffy, went 4-3 with a double and 3 RBIs.

Golf at Westin Kierland - March 30

Took advantage of an early tee time and played a round of golf before our next baseball appointment. The hotel had a beautiful set of three, 9-hole courses that you could play in combination to make a full 18. Rather stunned at the wonderful conditions, especially given the drought in the Bay Area and the heat in this area. Everything was green, groomed, and gorgeous; made me feel a bit guilty for being able to play.

Giants at Cubs

The Giants visited the Cubs at Sloan Park in Mesa - what a place! A fantastic, new park with a major league feel: great concessions and facilities. Tough driving in and parking, though as it's kinda out in the middle of nowhere, and there's only, apparently, one right way to drive in. Another nasty, hot day. Down 4 runs, the Giants rally in the top of the 6th for 5 runs, only to give 3 back in the bottom of the 6th and eventually lose 8-5.

Rockies at Giants - March 31

Our Tuesday tickets put us on the opposite side of the Stadium from our Sunday perch, and we had a way better experience. Hot, but under the stands, there is a misting system that wafts cool spray from the edge of the canopy. Blanco was announced and almost immediately replaced in right field by young Justin Maxwell, who went 3 for 3, with 3 RBIs, and helped the Giants beat the Rockies 4-3. Great to see some of the young Giants doing well. After the game, we made a bee line for the airport in Phoenix, and flew back with a planeful of Giants fans, all of us still in costume.

Ai Weiewei at Alcatraz - April 4

Had never been to Alcatraz, and was very happy to go during Ai Weiwei @ Large. A quick ferry ride, and we skip the ranger's introduction and head right for the far end of the island to see the dragon kite. The kite is installed in the "New Industries Building", a ruined, empty hall where prisoners had done laundry and other work for hire. The kite coils around the mushroom columns, with smaller "swallow" kites in the corners of the space. In the adjacent room, a series of lego portraits are laid out on the floor; the portraits are of people who have been imprisoned because of their beliefs or affiliations. Exiting, and then re-entering the guards' "gun gallery" one can view both works through the old broken glass, as well as another isolated piece - an oversized bird's wing made from Tibetan solar panels and tea kettles.

 

Heading back round to the main "Cellhouse", we found a series of audio installations built into the prison cells in the "A Block", including music from Pussy Riot and a speech by Martin Luther King. Again circling back through another cell block, we reach the Hospital Wing where selected toilets and sinks have been carefully filled with hand-made porcelain flowers. In the adjoining Psychiatric Observation Rooms is another set of audio installations - these more reverberant and impactful: the chants of Buddhist monks and the music of the Hopi, which included drumming that echoed and shook the small room.

 

I suspect the sense of uplift in the show comes from the toy-like, joyful materials used: kites, legos, porcelain flowers, tea kettles, music. Placing them in the context of the old penitentiary, and wrapping them in the stories of the oppressed and imprisoned focused the message, and provided a springboard for personal thoughts on the meaning and idea of freedom, as well as the loss of it. The last stop was the Dining Hall where post cards with pictures of the national birds and flowers the countries of those being held in or outcast from; you could write a message and send it.

The next night, the experience of viewing the show came back when John Oliver interviewed Edward Snowden, who was featured in one of the Lego portraits. In the piece, you got a real sense of his exile, but at the same time his conviction poured through; he knows what he did and why he did it. The interview was amazing - compelling, funny, and obscene.

Rangers at A's - April 9

The first regular season day game at O.co this year. Two young pitchers: Kendall Graveman for the A's and Nick Martinez for the Rangers. Graveman allowed 3 in the first, 2 in the third, three more in the fourth before departing the game (3.1 IP, 8Rs, 7ERs, 2 HBP). Committing one of the three A's errors did not help. Meanwhile Martinez allowed two hits through the first 4.2 innings, and faced the minimum thanks to two double plays, by which time it was 8-0. The A's managed a couple of hits and scored a run in the eighth, but way too little too late; they played like a very young team. O.co got some fancy new scoreboards, but they provided the same basic info as before - just clearer and brighter, so I guess that's a good thing. But a gorgeous day, and great to see "real" baseball again. Rangers over A's 10-1.

Red Sox Hit Bottom

Eventually, a test of allegiance becomes a celebration of Sisyphusian suffering. Red Sox fans too young to remember the lessons of the 1980's and 1990's, who became fans during the easy glory of the 2000's, should now "get it". Yes, October 20, 2004 was a great night, but mythic misery has always been part of what it means to be a Red Sox fan - and last night's game was a powerful dose.

Exercise: Sit in an opposing ballpark and score a defensive half inning during which your team's pitchers allow nine runs to nine opposing batters, while recording no outs.

Extra Credit: Execute above Exercise while sitting with loud, slightly drunk (possibly high?), and suddenly cocky, opposing fans.

Last night was "the" last night, and one of the worst nights, in a year that began on September 1, 2011, when the "greatest ever" Sox were 31 games over 500, and owners of a 1.5 game lead in the AL East. Their epic 2011 collapse has been cataloged by many others, but as an eyewitness, I can tell you how the Red Sox completed a horrible night (L, 20-2), capped a truly horrible month (9-20), and ended an historically horrible year of baseball (.615 to .434 win pct).

Dire Forecasts. The Boston Red Sox arrived in Oakland after suffering a sweep in Los Angeles, of Anaheim. The Athletics returned from a 6-1 road trip, and a four-game sweep of the Tribe in Cleveland. One other team joined them on the field - the Petaluma Little League Allstars, recently feted by folks far and near for their stunning ten-run, last-inning rally in the US Championship game. Losers. Winners. Losers who felt like winners. Their gathering was a prelude.

The Quiet. The pitchers were Cook (BOS) vs. McCarthy (OAK). The first two Red Sox batters, Podsednik and Pedroia reached on singles. Ellsbury ground into a 3-4 double-play that advanced Podsednik to third base, where he was stranded by Ross. The A's went 1-2-3 in the bottom of the first.

Outer Bands. In the second, the Sox put runners on second and third with one out and could not score them. In the bottom half, the first four A's hitters reached and scored: Cespedes singled, Moss doubled scoring Cespedes, Gomes singled scoring Moss, Donaldson homered scoring Moss and himself. Athletics 4. Red Sox 0.

The Eye. The Sox went 1-2-3 in the top of the third; in the bottom, the A's plated two more, on doubles by Reddick and Moss, and chased Cook (L, 2.2-7-6-0-0) from the game. Saltalamacchia homered for the Sox in the top of the fourth, and Tazawa pitched a clean bottom frame (two Ks). The A's were up 6-1, but at least the Sox seemed to be playing baseball again.

Storm. The Sox went 1-2-3 in the fifth. In the A's half, Tazawa was lifted for Aceves, who hit Cespedes with a 2-2 cutter, then threw another 2-2 cutter to Moss. Moss knocked it around the right field pole, upper deck. A's 8-1. In the top of the sixth, Pedroia and Ross singled around an Ellsbury ground out, but they could not score the runner from third with one out. Bottom six, Bard spelled Aceves, got Donaldson to pop out, then threw five straight fastballs to Kottaras. Kottaras hit the last one over the right field wall. A's 9-1.

Levee Breach. In the seventh, the Sox offense eked out a run: Ciriaco singled, Iglesias was hit by a pitch, A's starter McCarthy (W, 6.1-8-2-0-1) was relieved by Figueroa, Gomez pinch hit for Podsednik, the runners moved up on a wild pitch, and Gomez hit a slow grounder down the third base line to score Ciriaco. In the bottom of the seventh, Breslow took over for Bard, and got Reddick to pop out. The next nine A's in succession would reach and score:

1. Cespedes singled on a ground ball to left 
2. Moss singled on a soft line drive to center
3. Gomes walked
4. Donaldson reached on fielding error by Gomez, Cespedes scored
5. Kottaras singled on a ground ball to right,  Moss scored, Gomes scored; pitching change, Melancon for Breslow; pinch-runner Rosales for Donaldson
6. Pennington doubled on a line drive to right, Rosales scored
7. Crisp walked
8. Drew singled on a line drive to left, Kottaras scored
9. Reddick hit a grand slam to right, everyone else scored

Athletics 18, Red Sox 2.

Federal Relief Effort. Top eight, the Red Sox got a single and walk from Ellsbury and Ross. Loney ground into a 6-3 double-play, and Salty stranded Ells at third. Bottom eight, the A's got a double from Rosales and another homer from Kottaras. The Sox went 1-2-3 in the ninth. Final, A's 20, Red Sox 2.

After all that, my friend David pointed out, the A's left only three runners on base.

Before 2004, Red Sox fans were known as lovable losers: passionate, knowledgeable, able to absorb tremendous bone-headedness. If you were a fan, really, there was no choice but to absorb bone-headedness. And there was always next year. I've tried to live outside that image, and as I've read the posts of other Sox fans, I know many others have tried to do the same.

We never believed in the Curse and we never called ourselves a Nation. Writers in need of selling newspapers made that stuff up, spread it around, and now we all own it. We did not need the myths; the insane drama on the field was enough. When we lost, we lost big, and it hurt - but most other fans (Yankees fans can skip this part) acknowledged our pain: Sox fan? Yeah, I can respect that. But I did not want or welcome what seemed like pity, though it may have something more. From my experience, losing did not make me "cursed", nor did I want to be "lovable". Losing did not even make me sad - it made me angry. Sometimes, it made me physically sick.

We were told by the sports scribes that championships in 2004 and 2007 "changed" us from pitiable to pushy - Yankees fans without the pinstripes. We won, we won big, and we enjoyed it. No one acknowledged our pain cause there wasn't any, and I, for one, did not notice the loss of it.

But winning gave me only a sense of karma, not comfort. All the talk of burying ghosts? I still remembered '86. '99, and '03. From 2003-08, we had gone from losers who were winners, to winners who were losers. And then, at the end of 2011, we were just plain losers. I was not looking for sympathy. I did not get any sympathy. Other fans, who, in the past, may have offered a handshake, if not a shoulder, were gone.

Anyway, one doesn't support a team to seek solace from others. Condolence does not enter into one's thinking, and neither does self-pity. Donna and I moved to Boston in 1986 and got caught up in the energy of a pennant race and a playoff run. We became fans.

It just happens to you.

What is that tribal thing, that human quality that makes us align ourselves to a team, invest our emotion in a bunch of ball players? To root? To learn Sweet Caroline (I kinda hate that song, but I do know the lyrics)? To believe? And what do you do when that faith fails you?

I made a silent promise to myself to try ignore the Red Sox this year. Last year hurt a lot, and I needed a break - I live in Berkeley now, I should follow the Giants, or hey (forehead-slap), the A's. But I'm a loyal person; being a Red Sox fan is part of me. I could not stay away - but for this one game.

Please let this be the bottom.

I write this post not to wallow, but to sincerely try, with every fiber of being a fan, to put a very bad year behind; to try to clear my thoughts by them writing down. Like a bluesman singing it out, I'm looking for a catharsis - if not to start healing, to at least stop hurting.

• It's gotta end sometime. Doubront vs. Griffin. 6:05PM game time (@ Athletics, L 1-7).
• How about now? Matsuzaka vs. Anderson. 1:05PM game time (@ Athletics, L 2-6).
• Maybe it'll end today? Buchholtz vs. Vargas. 1:10PM game time (@ Mariners, L 1-4).
• Gonna be this next one. Lester vs. Beavan. 7:10PM game time  (@ Mariners, W 4-3).

In Praise of Unnatural Acts and Tim Wakefield

photo from ESPN

Tim Wakefield announced his retirement from professional baseball earlier today.

When I came home from work, I watched the last three innings of Game 5, of the 2004 ALCS. I have the last four games saved on my iPad. Yankees at the Red Sox in Game 5; those were some of Tim's best moments. The Red Sox Manager, Terry Francona, had stayed with the starting catcher, Jason Varitek, into the extra innings. Normally Varitek would not be in there, the job of back-stopping Wakefield's knuckleball, notoriously hard to catch, usually fell to the other Sox catcher, Doug Mirabelli. But this was the League Championship, the Red Sox were down to the Yankees three games to one, and Francona stuck with Varitek.

In the top of the thirteenth inning, Yankees slugger Gary Sheffield took some wild, from-the-heels cuts at the knuckleball, and struck out. But Varitek could not make the put-out, and Sheffield reached on a passed ball. Next, Hideki Matsui, who had been killing the Sox up to that point in the Series, bounced a slow grounder to second, and the Sox could only get the lead runner, Sheffield. Then Bernie Williams flew out to right field for the second out. The next batter was the Yankees catcher Jorge Posada, well known as a patient hitter. On the third pitch, Varitek lost another passed ball, and Matsui advanced to second. With the count two balls and one strike, Francona elected to intentionally walk Posada and face Ruben Sierra - who had three hits in four at-bats that night.

The first pitch to Sierra was a slow knuckler over the inside part of the plate for strike one. Fenway erupted with approval. The second pitch was fouled back for strike two. The third pitch was low and inside, Varitek stabbing at the dirt to catch it. The crowd gasped and grew silent. The fourth pitch was also fouled back, and the count held at one and two. The next pitch danced off the outside of the plate, and Varitek tried to simultaneously scoop and slap the ball, which bounced to the fence; crowd moaned in horror. Matsui took third and Posada second on the third passed ball of the inning.

So it was two and two to Sierra, two outs with runners at second and third. Wakefield's sixth pitch of the at-bat was high and outside, Varitek jumped up and blocked the ball, which popped out of his glove, but dropped down at Sierra's feet. More shouts and gasps, but the runners could not advance. The broadcast cameras flashed to Mirabelli in the Red Sox dugout, his head down, his hands pressed together, his body rocking with tension; he could not watch. On the seventh pitch Sierra swung thru a tight knuckleball on the inside half, inning over. As Varitek snapped his glove shut, he pumped his fist; Wakefield doing the same as he marched off the mound shouting at the dugout, and the crowd roaring.

In my opinion, this was the key Yankee at-bat in the Series; it was the last close moment, and as close as the Yankees would come to winning the pennant that year, after they raced out to a 3-0 Series lead. Wakefield and Varitek gutting it out, disaster one fluttering knuckleball away. But they trusted each other, and made enough outs (four) to finish the inning unscathed.

It's a baseball cliche: pitching is an unnatural act. The motion contorts your arm and requires constant attention and effort to prevent injury. But any kid who throws a snowball, or a rock, or a baseball can tell you it feels pretty natural. You just haul back and throw. But throwing a knuckleball, that really is an unnatural act. Like other physical acts that defy logic - skydiving, car racing, ski jumping - one part of your brain has to convince another part of your brain that this is a good idea, that this is what you want your body to do and it's going to work out. I want you to: push the baseball, using just the fingertips, take the spin off the ball, push it towards home plate where stands Gary Sheffield, or Alex Rodriguez, or Hideki Matsui, and let them try to hit a ball traveling 60 miles per hour when they are accustomed to a ball traveling 95. I want to do this. I think this is a good idea. If the hitter should make good contact, it is likely the ball will travel a long distance, and the hearts of your teammates, coaches, and the millions of fans that make up Red Sox Nation will be crushed. I will throw this pitch.

This is unnatural. Wakefield made a 19-year career of this.

Sitting in the stands and watching Wakefield pitch was other-worldly. I last got to see Wake pitch in 2009, his All-Star year, when he beat the As in Oakland 8-2, with a complete-game 4-hitter. Lobbing pitch after pitch, when he should be throwing peas, shooting bullets, firing BBs, whatever. It sure looked unnatural. How could the As hitters not crush every one of those meatballs, even if they weren't spinning? The infielders were making pegs to first faster than Wakefield threw to the plate. He was 42 years old in 2009, very close to my own age. He was 11-5 that year, and helped the Sox make another playoff appearance.

In his farewell today, Wakefield spoke about his youthful dreams of playing in the majors. Unlike so many who make it to the majors, Wakefield made it there and stayed for so long because he could do this one thing that very-very few can do. He was not a good hitter. A converted infielder, he was a pretty good fielder, though, as a pitcher, got few opportunities. His fastball, when the hitter knew it was coming, was a gopher-ball; and he threw a curveball only occasionally - those pitches would not have existed but for the knuckler.

My friend Rob and I used to take lunch breaks and play catch in front of the Federal Reserve Bank in Boston, and he could throw a knuckleball. I tried, but never could quite get the ball to float the right way - I could never completely remove the spin. But when Rob threw one you could tell he had to force himself to do it. He had to concentrate, think really hard about how to coordinate his arm and his fingers. Rob was a coordinated guy, a good athlete, and had run the Boston Marathon a few times, but only one knuckleball in a dozen was really any good. And he could not really throw it hard enough to use it, say, in a beer-league game. But when he got it to work, it was really strange to try to catch it.

I've racked my brain trying to find an equivalent to Wakefield specifically, and knuckleball pitchers in general, in other sports. It's really difficult - to execute some basic move in a sport in a way that is so wrong that it's right. Jim Furyk in golf? I don't know.

Thank you Tim Wakefield and congratulations on a unique and unforgettable career.

Bonus: Joe Posnanski wrote a nice piece on 'poetry and knuckleball pitchers' on his blog at SI.

Road Win

The Red Sox came to town last night and lost ugly: they argued calls, ran into outs, wasted a great effort by Lackey (6-4-1-1-3, 93), and managed only four hits vs Oakland's Brett Anderson who was on his game (8-4-0-1-8, 109). The Red Sox had not won a road game all year, and I did not expect to go see them, but for an e-mail form donna. Somehow she scored free tickets by posing for a picture with Stomper, the As elephant mascot.

So I took a day off and invited my neighbor David (an As fan) to join me. We got a matchup of two young guns: Gio Gonzalez and Clay Buchholz. Gio made quick work of the Sox int he top of the first (striking out JD Drew and Adrian Gonzalez). Buchholz's first pitch to Coco Crisp went over the wall at the 367 mark in right. It looked like it would be a long day.

But the 4-5-6-7 batters for the Sox put together a couple of great innings. Youk (4), Scutaro (6), and Crawford (7) all singled in the second, and the game was tied. Then Youk hit a solo shot over the left field wall in the fourth, and the Sox were up 2-1. In the sixth, after A-Gon singled, Youk struck out, and the skies opened up. Jed Lowrie (5) hit a long home run into the rain. He now leads the Sox with 11 RBIs; he's been amazing.

In the bottom of the sixth, Buchholz started to run out of steam. Ryan Sweeney doubled, then Landon Powell and Conor Jackson both walked. Bases loaded with one out. Bard came in and shut the door: he struck out Pennington, and got Coco to pop out to short.

In the seventh, JD Drew added a homer of his own, just over the glove of DeJesus in right. Bobby Jenks came in to pitch for the Sox in the eighth, and did not look sharp. He gave up a run on a walk and three singles before Papelbon closed the frame by striking out DeJesus.

The As added another in the ninth off Bot, but that was it. The As left 15 on base. A frustrating day for my friend David, but also an anxious day for me as I had to endure all those base-runners. Plus, Ellsbury struck out. Three times. All looking. How does that happen? Anyway, the Red Sox got their first road win and split the two-game set.

Expensive Baseball, Also Good Baseball

The Big Chou Family Reunion was last weekend, and we splurged a bit and got a luxury box for the Red Sox at the Giants. This, after reporting on my adventures trying to find "cheap baseball". The big advantage to having a private suite (there are many) is, not only the privacy and the easy accommodation of older and younger family members, but the ability to actually gather and talk which a row of seats simply does not afford. To be honest, the seats, view-wise, were only mediocre, but the service and the company were first class for sure.

It was a gorgeous Sunday afternoon, and AT&T Park was jammed for the big pitching duel: Lester vs. Lincecum. Like our family, the crowd seemed to be split about 50-50 between the Red Sox and Giants. The Suites staff provided us with souvenir hats that included both team logos - a nice touch.

Lincecum seemed to start well, getting a fly out from Scutaro, and a strike-out of young Daniel Nava. Then Big Papi sent a hanger into the Cove. I saw the swing on the TV as I was getting my parents settled, and it stayed in the air long enough for me to run to the seats and join in the cheering. I did not actually see the ball as it left the Park, I mostly saw the right-field crowd watch as the ball sailed over their heads, but I guess I can say I witnessed my first "splash hit".

It's a bit disconcerting to see a whole section of the crowd turn and watch the action outside the ballpark. There was a big splash-fight between the a guy on an inflatable dragon and a guy in a blue kayak. Stranger still that the whole crowd seemed to react to the replay of the paddle-race for the home run ball, shown on TV minutes later, during the next at-bat. The loud cheers coming at this random time must to have thrown off Youk, who struck out swinging.

Not trying to make excuses, I'm just saying: tell me that's not distracting.

In the bottom of the first, the Giants got a dribbler, infield hit from Andres Torres. He quickly stole second and then third, and scored on a fielder's choice. There are two ways to score runs, and they both count the same - game tied.

In the second it became clear that Lincecum did not have his good stuff. V-Mart walked, Bill Hall doubled. The Giants then intentionally walked Darnell McDonald to load the bases and get to Lester. Lester then put up a pretty good at bat, working the count to 3-1 til he got one he could drive - about 400 feet to the triples alley in right center. Sac fly, and Red Sox were back in front 2-1 (turned out to be the game-winning RBI). A Scutaro single added another run in that frame.

Red Sox fans cheer!

In the bottom of the second, Martinez took a foul ball off his foot, and hopped around the infield for quite a while in obvious discomfort. Collectively wincing, I think everyone could feel his pain. He later came out of the game; another Red Sox June injury - but it turned out he had a broken thumb, and as it swelled, he could not get his hand back into his mitt. I hope he's a faster healer; he sure is a gamer.

The Sox tallied another in the third on a single by Youkilis, walk by Drew, and a single by Hall. Lincecum came out of the game after that: 3 IPs, 5 Hs, 4 ERs, 3 BBs and 4 Ks - not a stellar outing.

Two other highlights: in the sixth, Lester worked a walk, fouling off pitches like he was a real hitter. In the ninth, Beltre tagged a solo shot to left. Lester went the distance for a 5-1 win. He was awesome: 9-5-1-1-9, 103 total pitches.

Giants fans have their say.

Boy did we have a great time. Good food, and a good Red Sox win. Apologies to the Giants fans in the family and sorry that the rally caps did not work - but they made for great photo album fodder. And the kids got to run the bases after the game. The luxury box cost several pretty pennies (damn dynamic pricing!), but it was worth it.

Cheap Baseball, Good Baseball

We went to the Oakland Coliseum with the promise of a two-dollar ticket. This, for a transplanted Red Sox fan (used to paying $20 for a bleacher seat), sounded implausible in the extreme. But it was Tigers at A's. Justin Verlander versus Dallas Braden in first home game since his perfect game a week and a half ago. How can you pass that up?

When I moved to Berkeley from Boston, my brother Tony gave me an Oakland A's cap, and I wore it for the first time last night. It felt very strange to have folks walk by me, glance at my cap, and imagine they thought I was an A's fan; some strange anxiety moved through me as if they could tell I was a fraud. And if someone struck up a conversation and started some chatter about Rollie Fingers or the Bash Brothers, I knew I'd be found out.

So I went with my friend Rex, a Tigers fan from childhood. When we got there at about 6:20 (for a 7:05 start), we found out that the two-dollar tickets had sold out. Dang. So we asked for the next best, but cheap deal. This is what we got: $12 for a seat in the way upper deck, but with a $6 food credit and a free t-shirt - still ridiculously cheap. And we had a great time.

First, the free shirt commemorated Braden's Mothers' Day perfecto, and is pretty sharp. Next, two dogs and a water (at Fenway might have been about $10) were included in my ticket with change left over. Then the seats themselves, in the vertigo section behind home plate, gave us a good, if fairly distant view of the game. Still, the Coliseum was fairly empty, and despite the misty weather, I was disappointed that more folks had not turned out.

We got the pitchers' duel that was expected. Braden threw very well, but Verlander was awesome - with a one-hitter into the 5th, he had faced the minimum to that point because of some double-play defense behind him. The game was scoreless into the 7th, when, in the top of the frame, Brandon Inge lead off. The scoreboard flashed that today, May 19th, was his birthday, and Rex began serenading him with "happy birthdays". He immediately hit a rope over the left field wall. The next batter was the catcher, Gerald Laird, who hit a bunt down the first baseline which Braden could not field.

The A's held a team meeting on the mound. We could not figure out what was happening. I suggested that Braden had to be injured, or they would not be permitted to meet like that - but the bunt did not seem to cause him any obvious strain. Later we found out he had "flu-like symptoms". In came the A's relief corps, and the Tigers jumped, plating three more runs to give Verlander a 4-0 cushion. The Tigers would add an insurance run in the top of the 8th, and the A's would prevent the shut-out in the bottom with a run.

Verlander (9-4-1-1-5, 116 / 80 strikes) was throwing 97-98 all night, faced 30-A's, and got the complete game win. His final pitch was 96-mph heater that Ryan Sweeney cut on and missed. The Red Sox beat the Twins, so the Tigers pulled within a game of first.

Not bad for $12.

Red Sox at As 2009 Game 3

Tim Wakefield was fantastic, nearly perfect in fact - a no hitter thru 7 1/3rd. Boy did he provide a big lift to a team in desperate need of one. Home runs by Lowell and Drew provided the spark. Red Sox win 8-2 on Wake's complete game 4-hitter.

A sunny and warm day in Oakland and a great crowd helped make up for last night's debacle. Jackie Robinson Day; all the players wore 42. Life is good again.

Red Sox at As 2009 Game 2

It was windy and cold. Really windy and cold. On the plus side, I finally found a hot dog vendor in the stands, and the Red Sox scored three in the top of the first. But Dice-K was not good and gave it all back plus two in the bottom. At least last night, Lester made the As work for two innings before giving up five.

But Masterson came in and pitched really well. The Sox rallied to tie it in the fifth with timely hitting (finally!).

The rest of the night was an exercise in self-torture. First cause it was really windy and cold (did I mention?). And second cause I did not want to leave a tie game. But the wind and fears of a lingering illness forced my hand. They lost in 12, 6-5. We were at home recovering.

Change of subject: listening.

At the Coliseum BART station, we met a young man who is a first-year high school teacher. An As fan, but a nice guy; we got to talking. We watched as the announcers tried to get the passengers to step back from a train so it could move forward and open its doors. There was a lot of leaning, and heads turning, but no one stepped off the yellow safety line. Two, three announcements; no one listened. The train did not move. Finally after about five minutes of announcer stale-mate, the doors opened, and the fans could step into the heated cars.

The high school teacher and I recognized it: just like getting kids to listen in class. It seems that things don't change much when they get older.

Some things just make you scratch your head. Not much good to take from the night.

Red Sox at As 2009 Game 1

Standing in the Rockridge BART station, I must have seen two dozen Red Sox fans before I saw one As fan. I ran into a former student, Patrick, who was wearing a Yankees cap. Obviously he was not rooting "for" but "against". We smiled, greeted each other and wished each other luck. We could not have been less sincere.

Lester vs Braden, two good lefties - but Lester did not hit his spots tonight, and Braden mixed and moved his pitches really well. Youk homered in the top of the second, but the As had five runs on the board before Lester could get five outs. Lester actually struck out the side in the second, but obviously, not a good thing. My first chance to see Nick Green, who started at short; did not make a positive or negative impression - but at least held his own. My first chance to see Saito as a Red Sox, too, and he did not perform too well as Holiday tripled off him to right to close the scoring at 8-2.

There were two "diving plays" by Sox OFs - one by Bay that resulted in Giambi's double, and one by Drew that was Holiday's triple. Both seemed like they should be catchable. Maybe it was the angle from behind the plate (I had really good seats), but it sure seemed like they did not track the balls well.

The As mascot "Stomper" hung out behind us for qute a few innings; was a little annoying to have that thing hovering behind me.

The Red Sox are 2-5; last place. And I do not like the new road uni's, either; they need more red.

Postseason Baseball

Mr. Rally Monkey, meet Mr. J. D. Drew:
It's October again, and the Red Sox are playing the Angels in the ALDS. Many of you have likely heard my cheapskate-socialist rant about how the airwaves belong to the people - I refuse to pay to be advertised to, so I don't have cable. For the playoffs, since I'm in Berkeley, I'm stuck watching the Red Sox on whatever free media doo-hickey I can find on the web. In this case it's TBS "Hot Corner" and MLB Gameday. The best way I've found is to have Gameday open so you can see the diagram of the "field action", and the line score, then have Gameday Mini open so you can see the pitch count and the locations. Then have TBS Hot Corner next to that, and put it all up on the big Sorny TV.

Thankfully, there's no pseudo-broadcast this year in Hot Corners - it's just four stationary camera shots with the crowd sound. I love the crowd sound not only cause you can hear the Red Sox fans chanting in LA (Anaheim/Orange County, whatever), but because it feels more like going to the game.

Of course, I missed all the defensive plays (you can sorta see the put-outs at first base in the distance, behind the pitcher), but I did see K-Rod's reaction to Drew's HR - he pointed up in the air like it was a pop-up. A blue-dot shows up on the Gameday Mini, "In play, run(s)". Then the Sox dugout went nuts, and K-Rod covered his face with the glove. I also got to see Papelbon's reaction at the end of the game: Gameday shows a red dot, "Swinging strike", and check the upper left camera frame: Paps yelling in at Tek.

One thing you do get to see that you don't on the "broadcasts" is the stuff that happens between innings - the pitchers warming up, the activity in the dugout as the team gets ready to bat, etc. And, for some reason, they showed a bunch of Rally Monkey footage. If you need a monkey to tell you to cheer on your team, there's something wrong. How is it to win in the 9th after watching all that? Sweet.

That was a great game. We're up 2-0.

Opening Day in Oakland

Last night, the Red Sox and A's opened their North American season at McAfee Coliseum, after two games in Tokyo. Daisuke Matsuzaka pitched masterfully for the World Champs (6 2/3 in, 1 ER, 9 K). It was a close, well-played game, with a couple of controversial calls: Suzuki misses Youkilis with a sweep tag at the plate, and Varitek misses a home run on a called Ground Rule Double. We had a clear view of the Varitek shot, which clearly bounced off the top of the grey scoreboard roof, never coming close to the yellow "in play" line; a very bad call.

Was very happy to be able to use the occasion of Opening Day to celebrate our re-location from Boston to the East Bay. And I was extra happy to share the event with so of my many friends and family that made the move possible. Particularly fun was seeing my nephew Matthew and his friend Ronnie laughing, hanging on the railing, and moaning "Yoo-ooo-ook" out the suite window; Matthew in his Big Papi jersey, and Ronnie in his Derek Jeter jersey. The red "34" and the white-on-blue "2" looking back at us seemed almost irreconcilable, with Ronnie's Dad describing the scene as something like, "a sign that world peace is possible".

Felt really bad for my nephew David, who flew from DC to San Fran to see the game. I may not have this exactly right, but somehow his flight got delayed then stuck in Charlotte. He got on another plane to Philly, and onto another flight to SFO, but that plane didn't have enough fuel to make it from coast to coast (?), so he landed in KC to refuel. After about eight hours of delays, he arrived at McAfee at the end of the 6th inning, and the usher could not direct him to our box. We did not see him until the game was over. How does that happen?

However, I must say that the venue was otherwise pretty darned acceptable. Going to watch a baseball game in a facility that is also used for football gave me dark memories of going to Three Rivers in Pittsburgh; never liked that place. From the outside, you certainly get that feeling of "concrete monstrosity", but on the inside, the seating and the views were pretty good, if a little distant. Foul territory was expansive (like having two more outfields), and I never liked having the bullpens "in the field of play".

The As fans were enthusiastic, if nearly overwhelmed by the Red Sox crowd. Chants of "Let's Go Red Sox" mashed into an unintelligible static of "Let's Go Oak-Sox", "Let's Go Red-land", each side trying to shout down the other. The Opening Day ceremonies were brief but appropriate, with a sort of mini-fireworks display set up in the outfield and a fly-over by the Blue Angels. Sometime in the fifth or sixth inning, the Scoreboard lit up with Tarzan movie clips in an apparent attempt to get the crowd to make enough "jungle yelling" noise that the elephant mascot Stomper (?) would appear. It felt strangely like a minor league promotion, and I never did see the elephant.

An Outpost of Red Sox Nation

"If I fail, it's going to be with my pants." - Manny Ramirez, post-game interview, Oct 6, 2007

Before I left the Boston area, my co-workers gave me the pre-requsite going-away novelties. Among the books and trinkets were quite a few Red Sox souvenirs - the kind of things you'd never buy for yourself. From the other side, my brother tried to welcome me to the East Bay with a fitted, wool A's cap, one of the black ones (actually, quite sharp and probably a little pricey for a cap!). Everything is carefully scattered around my new place, as any superstitious Boston fan should have it, to maximize baseball karma - pictured above, a Manny Ramirez 24 wrist band on a model of Fenway Park sits on my desk 

Meanwhile, I watched the end of the season on MLB-TV, and have tried to tolerate TBS Hot Corner during the playoffs. Worst. Baseball. Chat. Ever. Worse even than enduring a Tim McCarver broadcast. Imagine two fixed camera video feeds (pitcher-cam and dugout-cam), the most basic graphic display in one corner, and the TBS commentary crew in the other - four "hot corners". The discussion between the commentators is so simplisctic that, to my ears, it doesn't sound like they are really talkng about baseball; maybe they're watching a game of cricket. Setting MLB Gameday over the Hot Corner ads, so that the video feeds are still visible, makes it a little less incoherent.

But the distance, the sub-standard video, and the plain awful commentary aside, it's been all good for the Red Sox so far. Yesterday was particularly exhiliarating, of course, but also infuriating for all the above reasons. Phenomenal cosmic baseball; itty bitty media experience.

I loved the "bug-out" at the Jake that cast a kind of "Romo and the Cowboys" shadow on Joba and the Yankees. At that moment, TBS had commentary from former catchers John Marzano (Red Sox) and Jim Leyritz (Yankees). They could not stop talking about the bugs, the studio furniture, or A-Rod long enough to tell us what was going on with the game. Fortunately, in that sequence, there was all this activity I *could* see on pitcher-cam (bugs, walk, wild pitch, bunt, bugs, wild pitch, play at plate, tying run scores).

At the end of the Indians game, in extra innings, the "hostess" (Heather Catlin) was dumb-founded by Torre's choice to walk Sizemore with the winning run on third to setup a force at home and a right-righty match-up. I was now yelling at the TV: shut-up you're ruining this for me! I hit the "mute" button. After Cabrera popped out (semi-validating Torre's decision), Hafner delivers. That was an awesome end to an awsome game, but I don't think Catlin or her chatters delivered the drama of the moment at all - so, what is the point of their commentary?

All this would have made perfect sense, I think, to any RS fan, but was completely lost on these the TBS staffers. If Cabrera had grounded into a double-play, would Caitlin have understood the significance of the IBB? I honestly doubt it.

Worse was the anti-Bartman moment at Fenway with the TBS chat crew who could not understand that 17 year-old Danny Vinik's catch was absolutely *not* fan interference. I couldn't see the play, so I had to take their word on it that it *was* interference. When I saw the replay, I was floored because it was so clearly legal, and described as such by the broadcasters. And at first I thought I saw Pedroia cross the plate on pitcher-cam (it might have been a bat boy?), so I thought he was tagging. Imagine that pop foul; a little further down the line, and if not for Lowell's sac fly, that fan-catch might have cost the Red Sox a run. Then how does Vinik feel?

So I spent the night cheering with joy at the action (the parts that I could make out) and screaming furiously at the commentators; it was a strange case of baseball schizophrenia that perhaps only a Red Sox fan who had lived for a while in Cleveland Heights and now found himself in Berkeley might understand.

OTOH, pitcher-cam was perfect for Manny's walk-off dinger. He stood there for quite a while with his arms strait up in the air, and I knew. And like the rest of the Fenway crowd, my arms were strait up, too. The commentary was simply, "Ooooo." The replay showed the ball flying *over* the Coke bottles - that ball was c-r-u-s-h-e-d. Perfect coverage. 

Anyway, I'm off for the long weekend (thank you Christopher Columbus!) to see my folks in Oregon. 

And they have a dish.

UPDATE: After typing the above on my Treo during the plane ride from Oakland, I arrived at the parents house to find that the digital satellite service has been termintated. My father's new passion is DVD karaoke. D-oh. I wonder if they have "Tessie" on that thing.