What Do You Mean I Don't Have a Million Dollar Contract?

While spring may signal the beginning of baseball season for the multimillion dollar boys in 30 cities around the country, it also means its time for the amateur ball players around the country to break out the bats, dust off their gloves, and squeeze into baseball pants after a long, dormant winter.

There is nothing better than waking up to a beautiful spring morning, sunlight pouring in your windows and knowing you get to go outside and run around in it for a little bit. I’m not sure there is anything that can compare to the feel of the grass, the smell of the air, chasing down fly balls and the sound of a bat hitting a ball.

You get to feel like a kid for a couple hours, reminiscent of the days of Little League, except hopefully you’re a little better now and can throw the ball a little harder. We still get to the field dressed in uniforms, fool around in the dugout and eat sunflower seeds till our stomachs hurt. But now instead of our moms and dads in the stands, we have girlfriends, and at the end of the game we get to drive ourselves home instead of piling into the back seat of Mom’s minivan. We may not be the best, but it definitely is great to have something to look forward to each weekend and know you’re going to enjoy it.

It makes me want the week to go by that much quicker and gets me that much more upset when the rain gods decide to do their little dance Saturday night/Sunday morning. Just because we may not be the best does not mean we do not take the game seriously. Unlike Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez and all the other super stars of the diamond, we dream of diving and running everyday while they live it.



But we keep our pride, and we still play for keeps. You’ll be hard pressed to find a weekend game where you don’t see one of several things: a player arguing with an umpire, a player cursing (usually at an umpire), and someone getting upset himself for committing an error. We may even take our games a little more seriously and they may stick with us a little longer than with pros. They have the advantage of getting to make up for it tomorrow or the next day at the most. Us? We have to wait six days before lacing up the cleats again and stepping between the lines or picking up a bat.

We get injured probably a lot more often than professional players and take care of injuries a lot worse. Pulled quad? Strained hamstring? Sore arm? Play through them. In a 20 game season, you don’t have time to sit in the bench for two weeks and relax while your team takes the field.

But its one of those things you wouldn’t trade for the world; the chance to keep playing the game you love. You can try softball if you want, but it’s not the same. I played for the summer after my freshman year of college, and it only made me want to play hard ball that much more. Yes, baseball is harder, you have to run a little further between bases, and you play with less fielders, but it only gives you more satisfaction when you succeed.

So go find a team, put on your favorite jersey, pull your hat down way over your eyes, and pretend to be who ever the hell you want to be. Spend 3 hours a week running around, swinging a bat, and having some fun. It does a body good.

The Quest for 28 Begins

Well it looks like spring is upon us and the great American past-time is back. Almost two weeks ago baseball kicked off.

Spring is always a great time. Teams are off to a fresh start. 2009 is now just a memory and everyone has a chance to write a new story in 2010. The Yankees come back as the defending world champions and with a target on their back, as the champs usually do. But it begins another season in the new Yankee Stadium and a chance to add some more history to The House George Built, which quickly had some added last year.

It was nice to see/read about the Yankees getting their rings and finally capping off the amazing 2009 season. Unfortunately I had to do a little thing called “work” all day which prevented me from parking in front of a television and watching the matinée match-up. You could see how excited Alex Rodriguez was to get his first ring, and how fitting it was that Derek Jeter was the last player called out of the Yankee dugout. But I think the part I enjoyed most was Matsui get his multiple standing ovations and ring along with the rest of the team.

I was impressed Jerry Hairston flew cross country for his. Maybe he should have just caught a flight with the Angels because somehow it worked out perfectly so Matsui could be in town and get his too. The way the Bombers stormed Godzilla on the pitchers mound, it looked as if they genuinely missed him. Everyone was happy to see the MVP again, especially The Captain. I think especially from having been at the final game of the World Series and seeing Matsui have his magical game, it was nice to see Matsui get the farewell he deserved. I know he got his parade, trophy and whatever else, but the proper sendoff was on the diamond, between the bases. The fact he had to step out of the box and tip his cap before his first at-bat, encouraged by the always classy Andy Pettitte when he stepped of the mound, was a great moment.


As the Yankees begin their quest for No. 28 I think the most pressing concern is the No.4 starter. Now I’m sure you’re thinking, “What is this guy talking about, that’s Javvy Vazquez.” EXACTLY. Now, I’m not even talking about the fact that he has sucked out the house in his first two starts. I thought this was a terrible move from the very beginning. Vazquez had his chance in New York already (see 2004 http://newyork.yankees.mlb.com/team/player.jsp?player_id=134320) and he was terrible. A 4.91 ERA. So what if he had 238 strikeouts and 15 wins last year with a 2.87 ERA? It was the National League, which has been no where near as good as the AL this decade.

Look at Cliff Lee and CC Sabathia. Two very good starters in the AL (who happened to play together in Cleveland) and went to the NL for stints and could have walked on water if they wanted to. Sabathia went 11-2 in 17 starts for Milwaukee with a 1.65 ERA and 128 strike outs. The beginning of that season, when he was with Cleveland, he had a 2.70 ERA in 35 starts. In 12 starts with the Phillies in 2009, Lee was 7-4 versus 7-9 in 22 starts with the Indians. He also had 74 K’s in those 12 starts, while it took him 22 starts in the AL to get 107 earlier in the season. With the pitcher batting, line-ups become dramatically weaker and teams in general are just not as strong period.

So now back to bring it back to the 2010 Yankees, I’m not sure Javvy is going to get the job done and I certainly have my doubts. I’ll give him 11 wins for the season. He has already been booed and is 0-2, giving up 12 earned runs in two starts. Well maybe if he pitched a little better he wouldn’t have to worry about it. Bottom line is he was given a second chance because people in the Yankee front office thought he had turned into some great pitcher. More likely it was the level of competition he faced that made him so much better, but as usual, I hope I’m wrong.

Time will tell, but until then, you’re on notice Javvy Vazquez, and all on New York will be watching your every pitch.

And don’t worry, we’ll let you know when you’re back in our good graces.

The Road Ends Here

Well it looks like we’ve come to the end of the “Road to the Final Four.” This may be the toughest post I’ve had to write yet, but I’m hoping it finally helps give me some closure on this season. It has taken me a long time to get to this point and to be willing to talk about the final moments of the Orange tournament run. Most of the last week has been filled with “lets not talk about it.”

Last Thursday I sat in front of the TV and watched in crystal clear HD as a magical, fun, and exciting season come to a crashing halt all too soon. This was the team bound for the Final Four. Ready to duke it out with a talented Kansas State, but ultimately take it’s rightful place in Indianapolis. This was their year...right?

Well apparently Butler didn’t get the memo. Instead, they outplayed, out-hustled, and and out-smarted a Syracuse team that looked like a shoe-in for the final after laying the smack down on Gonzaga less than a week earlier.

Well as I sat there watching Syracuse dig out of the hole and go ahead by 4, I refrained from getting too excited, knowing we weren’t out of the woods, but thinking the magician was about to pull another rabbit out of his hat like we had seen all season. Only this time instead of finding the bottom of the net several consecutive times and forcing turnovers, they turned the ball over possession after possession and gave the game right back to the Bulldogs.

I sat there afterwards wondering what to do with myself. Was this really going to be the way it ended? Another loss in the Sweet Sixteen, ending the season a week too short. The next couple days were worthless. I didn’t turn on a TV or listen to my usual ESPN podcasts for fear of seeing rerun of the highlights or listening to pundits talking about a lackluster Syracuse squad.

It hurt almost as much as the massacre against Oklahoma, except I had a front row seat in Memphis last year and had just drove 1,000 miles in two days to watch my Orange. But this year I had higher hopes, thinking this would be another convincing win on the road to Indy. I was filled with butterflies and excitement all day, wearing my bright orange dress shirt to work and telling everyone who would listen how Syracuse was going to do their thing that night.

The one safe place for me to visit on the Web was Syracuse.com, home of the Syracuse Post-Standard. While they covered the loss, they were crushed just as much as me and showed compassion in their coverage. I watched the press conference clips of Coach Boeheim, Andy Rautins, and Wes Johnson. I saw the photos of Arinze Onuaku, the biggest man in the room, hiding in a locker with a towel hanging in front of his face. I read about a team in tears, heard the hurt in their voices.

In addition to that, I read this blogger post and i couldn't help but laugh, especially because it fit me so perfectly and all the emotions I went through in those 24 hours. As terrible as I felt, the truth was I knew how much more these players were hurting. They felt they had let down an entire city down and falling short of anything but the Final Four classified the season as a failure.

It may have ended too soon and in tragic fashion, but this season was far from it. It was a great season. Full of amazing games, great highlights, and convincing wins over top competition, not to mention a night of 34,646 people cramming into The Dome for a game, setting a new NCAA attendance record. The team proved to the nation they were contenders, deserving of a No.1 seed.

I go crazy sitting and thinking about what could have been. If Arinze, doesn’t get hurt, the team easily makes it to Indy, overpowering everyone in Salt Lake, and probably any opponent. The fact he couldn’t even compete will probably be something that sticks with him for a long time unfortunately. All because of damn Greg Monroe.

So the fat lady sung, be it early, but she finished her verse and the Orange exited stage right. But you can’t end it all without saying thanks to the guys who made it so much fun.

Wes, I know you said you were leaning towards coming back after the tough loss, and your heart is in the right place, but we all know the truth. It’s OK. Go get yours. Thanks for stopping by, it was a blast. Andy and Arinze, you two came in with me as freshman and I watched you guys go down with injuries and come back better than ever. Arinze came back built like a house and dominated the paint. Andy came back bigger, stronger, more confident and able to shoot the lights out of the gym. He was the guy who made it go this season and it was great to watch him get fired up. I’m glad you guys stuck around. This team needed you both, and I wish you only the best.

Scoop and Joseph, this is your team next year. Kris had a breakout season this year and makes us all excited about what he will do as a starter. Scoop, honestly, you scare the hell out of me, but you make ridiculous play somehow and have some smooth moves when we need it.

Well I guess that’s that then.

Just last night I was talking to a friend about incoming freshman and the 2011 class. Syracuse basketball never gets old. Can’t wait till next November!