Visual Crack Redux: THIS Is Something To Get Excited About

DVD release of 300 + email conversation with the Channel Four News Team + YouTube search for Anchorman clips = A little slice of video heaven

Visual Crack: Got Testosterone?

Call me a geek, but not since Revenge of the Sith have I been so excited about the DVD release of a movie. 300 was not perfect by any stretch, but it was certainly entertaining.

Happy Birthday: July 30 - August 5

(Baseball birthdays found here have been compiled from the “Frivolities” section at Baseball-Reference.com. All other birthdays were taken from Wikipedia.)

July 30
Casey Stengel (baseball) – 1890
Joe Nuxhall (baseball) – 1928
Bud Selig (baseball) – 1934
Arnold Schwarzenegger (actor/politician) – 1947
Chris Mullin (basketball) – 1963

July 31
Curt Gowdy (broadcaster) – 1919
Michael Biehn (actor) – 1956
Mark Cuban (basketball) – 1958
Wesley Snipes (actor) – 1962
Jonathan Ogden (football) – 1974
Evgeni Malkin (hockey) – 1986

August 1
Frank Grant (baseball) – 1865
Trevor Berbick (boxing) – 1955
Edgerrin James (football) – 1978

August 2
Lamar Hunt (football) – 1932
Wes Craven (director) – 1939
Tim Wakefield (baseball) – 1966
Grady Sizemore (baseball) – 1982

August 3
Harry Heilmann (baseball) – 1894
Marv Levy (football) – 1925
Martin Sheen (actor) – 1940
Marcel Dionne (hockey) – 1951
John C. McGinley (actor) – 1959
Tom Brady (football) – 1977

August 4
Jake Beckley (baseball) – 1867
Maurice Richard (hockey) – 1921
John Riggins (football) – 1949
Barack Obama (politician) – 1961
Roger Clemens (baseball) – 1962
Jeff Gordon (auto racing) – 1971

August 5
Neil Armstrong (astronaut) – 1930
Bernie Carbo (baseball) – 1947
Patrick Ewing (basketball) – 1962
John Olerud (baseball) – 1968

The Bizarro HOF Loses One Of Its Own

Since I started working on the Bizarro Hall of Fame earlier this year, I have come across the occasional player who is no longer with us - Darrell Porter, for instance, the 1982 World Series MVP who died five years ago next week. As far as I could recall, however, no member of the BizHOF had passed away after the list was begun. That changed on Sunday, when Baseball Musings ran a short item on the death of Bill Robinson, Class of 1989. He had been working with the Los Angeles Dodgers as their minor league hitting coordinator and had also been a part of championship teams as a coach with the Mets and Marlins.

Most of my information about BizHOF players comes from Baseball-Reference.com and is therefore tinged with a statistical flavor. As such, it can be difficult to pick up much personal information regarding a specific player. Not impossible, but not easy. With Robinson, however, his personal character was evident in his career path - how else to explain a guy who played in the majors for four years, fell off the map for two full seasons, then reappeared with another organization and went on to play for twelve more years?

Baseball Musings' David Pinto worked with Robinson at ESPN for two years and wrote kindly of the former Yankee, Brave, Phillie and Pirate:

"Bill was a great guy, always a gentleman, always appreciative of any help you sent his way. I once reminded him of a catch I saw him make when he was playing for the Yankees in 1969, falling into the stands to steal a home run. He remembered the catch, but felt old when I offered that I was only nine when that happened. I'll always remember him fondly."

It's a shame when good men leave us, especially at the age relatively young age of 64. Robinson wasn't the most well-known figure to the average baseball fan (myself included), but his contributions to the game will certainly be missed.

Arguing Balls And Strikes = Bad Idea

Continuing with the recent ejection obsession around these parts, here are the reasons behind each player, manager and coach removal in 2007. Some of them could probably be consolidated, such as the various "call at _____ base" arguments, but it wouldn't change the overall dominance of frontrunner "arguing balls and strikes," which accounts for roughly four times the next highest cause. That is a lot. You'd think somebody would have sent out a memo by now, just to let everyone know that this might not be the best idea.

Overall, I think my favorites are "leaving the third base coach's box" and "arguing an ejection." The latter is particularly enjoyable because it was Florida's Aaron Boone who got the heave-ho. As we learned from the Washington Post's Dan Steinberg and his D.C. Sports Bog, Boone was thrown out of his major league debut ten years ago. Being tossed for arguing another player's ejection isn't quite on the same level, but it amuses me nonetheless (added bonus: the umpire was Brian "The Thumb" Knight).

Arguing balls and strikes	62
Throwing at a hitter	14
Arguing a call at first base	8
Fighting	6
Arguing a check-swing	6
Arguing a call at home plate	5
Arguing a homerun call	4
Arguing a balk call	3
Arguing a call at third base	3
Arguing a homerun reversal	2
Arguing a warning	2
Arguing a foul ball call	2
Arguing a caught stealing	1
Arguing an ejection	1
Arguing a call at second base	1
Arguing obstruction at second base	1
Making contact with an umpire	1
Arguing fan interference	1
Charging the mound	1
Leaving the third base coach’s box	1
Arguing a call in left field	1

Baseball Ejections: Addendum Numero Cinco

Look at the bright side: at least John Lannan will always remember his first game in the bigs.

As noted by the D.C. Sports Bog, Lannan became the third player since 1994 to be ejected from his major league debut when Hunter Wendelstedt ran him for plunking Chase Utley and Ryan Howard in the fifth inning on July 26. He wasn't the only National sent to an early shower: manager Manny Acta was also tossed after enacting Unwritten Rule 112.2(b), which if it were actually written down would state that any time a player is ejected from his first major league game, his manager is contractually obligated to get himself thrown out as well.

Acta's ejection leaves Texas' Ron Washington and St. Louis' Tony LaRussa as the only managers who have not been thrown out of a game this season. Any bets on who gets the hook first?

Boston Red Sox
Jul 20 – Terry Francona, manager
Top 2nd by third base umpire Tim McClelland for arguing a homerun call

Pittsburgh Pirates
July 25 – Jim Tracy, manager
Bottom 3rd by third base umpire Larry Vanover for arguing a call in left field

San Diego Padres
July 22 – Bud Black, manager
Bottom 5th by home plate umpire Chris Guccione for arguing balls and strikes

July 22 – Michael Barrett, catcher
Bottom 5th by home plate umpire Chris Guccione for arguing balls and strikes

Seattle Mariners
July 22 – John McLaren, manager
Bottom 5th by home plate umpire Chad Fairchild for arguing balls and strikes

Tampa Bay Devil Rays
July 25 – Steve Henderson, hitting coach
Top 4th by home plate umpire Tom Hallion for arguing balls and strikes

Toronto Blue Jays
July 20 – John Gibbons, manager
Bottom 6th by home plate umpire Tim Timmons for arguing balls and strikes

Washington Nationals
July 19 – Dmitri Young, first base
Bottom 3rd by home plate umpire Rob Drake for arguing balls and strikes

July 26 – John Lannan, pitcher
Bottom 5th by home plate umpire Hunter Wendelstedt for throwing at a hitter

July 26 – Manny Acta, manager
Bottom 5th by home plate umpire Hunter Wendelstedt for throwing at a hitter

This One Is For You, Jon Pyle...

milk
eggs
orange juice
purple stuff
Sunny D
Raisin Bran
cookies
toilet paper
soap
light bulbs
english muffins

Link away, my friend, link away.

I Have A Brother

The problem with having two email accounts is that some of the most important people in my life only use the one that I check when there's a full moon, which means a family member will occasionally try to contact me and hear nothing for days at a time.

Such was the case Monday, when my older brother Tim sent me a short note that I didn't receive until today. At first, I thought he was just saying hello, nice to see you last weekend (he met his newest nephew for the first time), hope things are going well - that sort of stuff. But by the second paragraph, it was obvious that something was bothering him. I won't reprint it here, because it was a private correspondence and should remain that way, but here's the gist of it: Tim thinks he's done a shitty job of being my big brother, up to and including the fact that we haven't kept in touch much lately.

Here's the thing: my brother is awesome. Fucking awesome, in fact. And I will prove it by creating two lists: the first, all the ways he messed up my life over the years, the second, all the cool shit he's done to help me out.

The Bad

• Around my freshman year in college, I came home for a visit and spent the night at Tim's apartment. He was having a party, we both had a few too many (he was hammered, I was drunkish), and ended up throwing down in the parking lot of his building. Actually, "throwing down" isn't even accurate; we were fooling around, I took him down and accidently hit his head on the ground, he got pissed and held me down for a few seconds. Foolishness, yes, but nothing that doesn't happen at every Gallagher family reunion. Still, foolish or not, I get the impression that it still bothers him from time to time. It shouldn't.
• When I was eleven, he yelled at me once for not catching a ball that he threw over my head. I had such a horrible upbringing.

The Good

• Tim was the best man at my wedding, which in his mind meant that the bachelor party was his responsibility. And by "his responsibility", I mean "he paid for everything." It was perfect, one of the greatest nights of my life: my brother and three good friends, playing pool and looking at naked chicks (in fact, I returned to my parents' house, where we were spending the night, at about 2 A.M., and proudly told my mother, "I saw boobs") - and really, I owe it all to him (I also owe him $20 for a lap dance that I insisted he receive, but was too drunk to realize that somebody had to pay for it).
• When I was twelve, we went to the local recreation area and he pitched to me for an entire afternoon, with the promise of a trip to the store and a brand-new bat if I managed to hit one out. I did - exactly one - and he paid off with not one, but two bats. Fifteen years later, I still have them both.
• Later that same year, I came up to bat with my team down one and the bases loaded in the final inning. I turned on an inside pitch, drilling it down the first base line for the game winning hit. As I left the box, clapping my hands and enjoying the moment, I looked over at the crowd. There was Tim, standing by the chain link fence, going absolutely nuts. He might've been happier than I was.
• Again, around that time (1992 was a good year for our relationship), he invited me into his room to watch videos on MTV (yes, kids - MTV used to show music videos). Not a big deal, you say? Try telling that to a twelve-year-old kid with a twenty-year-old brother. Nothing could have meant more. Nothing.
• The very first adult movie I ever saw? An unlabeled videotape that Tim left laying around his room and I popped into the VCR out of curiosity. True story.
• The best thing: Tim believes in me totally and completely. He entered me in a homerun hitting contest during a charity softball tournament a few years ago and didn't even care when I sullied the family name by putting up a nice round donut. He once suggested that I try out for a professional baseball team, because I had to be just as good as any of the guys out there on the field. And he is the most loyal reader of this blog. Last weekend, he mentioned reading a post - I figured it was something from a couple of weeks before. No, it was one that I had literally written the previous night. That matters.

Bottom line, I owe a lot of the good stuff in my life to my brother and the support and guidance he has always provided. There are very few people that I can't imagine not having in my life in some way, shape or form. My wife...my parents...my brother is clearly one of those special few.

So, Timothy, when you get to feeling sorry for yourself and thinking you haven't been good enough to me through the years - knock that shit off. You're my big brother, my favorite brother, and I wouldn't change that for anything.

Visual Crack: The World Long Clamored For A Skee-Ball League...These Men Answered That Call

The agony...the ecstasy...competitive Skee-Ball.

Two years ago, a pair of New Yorkers decided, on a lovely summer day, that Skee-Ball held the cure to all that ailed them. Following an afternoon of joy at Coney Island, Evan Tobias and Eric Harris Pavony opted to share the remarkable healing powers of the sport and start the league that has since expanded to two cities and involved more than 250 teams.



The preceding video is only a drop in the bucket. For the full breadth of this sport, visit Brewskee-Ball's official YouTube page and peruse the offerings. You will not be disappointed.

Fishin' For Ideas

I was sitting around my in-laws’ house the other day, taking advantage of their infatuation with my son to relax and consider some new story ideas, when one hit me: a “Fish ‘n Chips” All-Star team featuring players who share names with types of fish or brands of potato chips.

The potato chip part was short lived – outside of Rick Wise, there weren’t too many exciting options – and the post eventually turned into what you see below: an All-Star team composed entirely of players who share names or nicknames with various fish.

Has this been done before? It’s entirely possible. The Internet is a big place, full of creative people, and it wouldn’t be surprising if someone else had thought of it first. But I’ve never actually seen something like this anywhere, so it can’t hurt to give it a try. Right?

(The name of the associated fish is listed in parentheses.)

C – Sleeper Sullivan (Sleeper) – Sullivan was a catcher in the National League, American Association and Union Association from 1881 to 1884. His given name was Thomas Jefferson Sullivan, his nickname “Old Iron Hands”, and he was not a good offensive player: a career batting of .184 and OPS of .422.

1B – Chubby Dean (Chub) – It was tempting to go with Commissioner Chub Feeney in this spot, even though he didn’t play in the major leagues. Dean is an interesting case, however, a North Carolina native who came to the Philadelphia Athletics as a 19-year-old first baseman in 1936 and spent two full seasons at the position before becoming a full-time pitcher.

2B – Johnny Ray (Ray) – A 1996 inductee into the Bizarro Hall of Fame, Ray was a solid second baseman for Pittsburgh and California from 1981 to 1990. His career came to a surprisingly abrupt end when the Angels released him at the age of 33 despite offensive and defensive numbers that were still reasonably good.

3B – Art Garibaldi (Garibaldi) – Until working on this post, I didn’t even know there was a garibaldi fish, let alone one that was the state saltwater fish of California. That’s more impressive than the accompanying player, whose major league career spanned about three months and 71 games.

SS – Bobby Sturgeon (Sturgeon) – Sturgeon played five seasons for the Cubs and missed three years for World War II before being traded to the Boston Braves in 1948. According to Baseball Library, he was involved in two incidents during Jack Robinson’s rookie season: one in which he chose to fire a relay into Robinson’s chest rather than complete a double play and another in which Robinson took revenge and broke two of Sturgeon’s ribs in a play at second base.

OF – Lipman Pike (Pike) – One of the first professional baseball players, Pike was also the first great Jewish player. A tremendous power-hitter for his era, he led the league in round-trippers four times and remains one of only two players in major league history to simultaneously hold the career record for homeruns and triples (Roger Connor is the other).

OF – Kevin Bass (Bass) – I’ll always remember Bass for two reasons: one, he had a card in the 1988 Topps set, the definitive baseball card set of my youth, and two, his Chris Berman nickname was originally Kevin “Large Mouth” Bass, but Berman changed it after word got out that Bass was offended by the moniker.

OF – Sam Crawford (Wahoo) – The greatest triples hitter in baseball history was nicknamed after his hometown of Wahoo, Nebraska. Elected to the Hall of Fame in 1957 (where he joined his old outfield mate with the Detroit Tigers, Ty Cobb), Crawford finished his career 39 hits shy of 3,000, the second closest any player has come to reaching that mark without going over.

DH – Tim Salmon (Salmon) – Salmon was a great player who served as the face of the Angels for fourteen seasons (winning the American League’s Rookie of the Year award in 1993), but I’ll always remember him for something more personal: at the first Red Sox game I ever attended back in 1995, Salmon played right field at Fenway and was subjected to a prolonged “Saaaaaaaaaaaal-mooooooooooooon” chant from the faithful in the bleachers. Not sure how anyone could talk smack to a guy who ended up with a .330-34-105 line for the year, but they did.

SP – George Haddock (Haddock) – Not only was Haddock born in Portsmouth, New Hampshire (I was also born in Portsmouth, about 113 years later, and later attended high school there), he was a pretty fair pitcher, winning 63 games for Brooklyn and Boston between 1891 and 1892. He pitched 761 innings combined in those two seasons.

SP – Catfish Hunter (Catfish) – Hunter won 20+ games for five consecutive seasons from 1971-75, a period of time that coincided with the best championship run by a non-Yankees team in major league history. After leading Oakland to three straight World Series crowns from 1972-74, he was granted free agency and signed with the Yankees, going on to add two more rings to his collection.

Happy Birthday: July 23 - 29

(Baseball birthdays found here have been compiled from the “Frivolities” section at Baseball-Reference.com. All other birthdays were taken from Wikipedia.)

July 23
Red Dutton (hockey) – 1898
Pee Wee Reese (baseball) – 1918
Don Drysdale (baseball) – 1936
Gary Payton (basketball) – 1968
Stephanie Seymour (model) – 1968
Monica Lewinsky (White House intern) – 1973
Nomar Garciaparra (baseball) – 1973
Maurice Greene (track & field) – 1974

July 24
Tommy McCarthy (baseball) – 1863
Amelia Earhart (aviator) – 1897
Lynda Carter (actress) – 1951
Karl Malone (basketball) – 1963
Julie Krone (jockey) – 1963
Barry Bonds (baseball) – 1964
Jennifer Lopez (actress) – 1969

July 25
Estelle Getty (actress) – 1923
Walter Payton (football) – 1954

July 26
Hoyt Wilhelm (baseball) – 1922
Bob Lilly (football) – 1939
Mick Jagger (musician) – 1943
Helen Mirren (actress) – 1945
Dorothy Hamill (figure skater) – 1956
Kevin Spacey (actor) – 1959

July 27
Joe Tinker (baseball) – 1880
Biz Mackey (baseball) – 1897
Leo Durocher (baseball) – 1905
Peggy Fleming (figure skating) – 1948
Bill Engvall (comedian) – 1957
Jill Arrington (reporter) – 1972
Alex Rodriguez (baseball) – 1975

July 28
Bullet Rogan (baseball) – 1889
Chad Paronto (baseball) – 1975
Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis (First Lady) – 1929
Marty Brennaman (broadcaster) – 1942
Bill Bradley (basketball/politics) – 1943
Elizabeth Berkley (actress) – 1972
Manu Ginobili (basketball) – 1977

July 29

Teddy Atlas (boxing) – 1956

Postpartum Blues, Volume One

Actual exchange that took place in the car this evening between the radio and my wife (the first quote is paraphrased; my wife's is pretty much word for word):

Delilah (radio DJ): ...and all you need is faith and love, and everything will be alright in your life...
Mrs. OMDQ: I hate you, Delilah.

I think she's handling her emotions quite well.

Welcome Back, Jon

Red Sox expected to promote Lester (Yahoo! Sports)

Wait A Minute...There's A Football Team In Los Angeles?

I'm posting this video on a non-Visual Crack day for two reasons:

1) With David Beckham's Galaxy debut scheduled for tomorrow, I'm curious to see if it will effect the ol' Site Meter.

2) I enjoy the commercial, especially the visual at the end where Beckham is tying his shoes (cleats? Spikes? What do they call them in soccer?) and stands up, framing the "Beckham 23" in the middle of the screen. Great visual. Actually, the overall concept and use of classic Beatles was excellent work, in my opinion.

My Son Hates Me, And I Don't Know Why

I don't know how he is capable of such diabolical thought at just ten days old, but I swear my son conceived and executed a methodical plan to douse me in bodily fluids tonight.

It started off simply enough: after being informed by my wife that mini-OMDQ had gone nearly six hours without a diaper change, I set him on the changing table and went to work. This wasn't quite as simple as it seems, due largely to the fact that the boy does not like being exposed to the cold air and has already demonstrated a propensity to protest to the full extent of his meager abilities.

Usually, he kicks his legs, rolls around a little bit, and cries loud enough that I begin to worry about what the neighbors think about my parenting skills. Tonight, however, he discovered another weapon to add to his repertoire. He peed on me.

This wasn't just a little bit of pee that caught me off-guard as I was wiping his butt or something like that. No, I was sitting a good three feet away, trying as always to figure out exactly the best way to put the new diaper on (not as easy as you would think) when the little brat unloaded. I swear he pointed and aimed the damn thing, because not only did he hit me while I was sitting down, but it followed me and caught my shirt as I stood up. It would have been impressive if I wasn't being covered in baby piss.

And where was my lovely wife through all this? Sitting in the bedroom, playing a game on the computer. When I asked if she realized what had happened, she very sweetly replied, "Yeah, I had an idea when I heard you yelling, 'Oh shit'." Thanks, babe.

Because it was hot and humid in our apartment, I took my shirt off and elected to leave it off for the rest of the night. Got the diaper on the kid, fed him, and put him on my shoulder to fall asleep. That's our normal schedule. What does he do tonight?

He puked on me. On my bare chest. It was not fun.

Seriously, I think I'm an okay dad. I hold him when he cries. I feed him when he's hungry. I get him blankets when he's cold. But for some reason, it's not enough. He wants more. And I fear that until he gets it (or figures out how to verbalize it), he will continue to unleash this reign of terror (and pee and puke) on me. I am not looking forward to it.

The Links: Because There's Too Much Good Stuff Out There Not To Mention

A completely dead-on appraisal of the feeling one gets when opening baseball card packs from his or her childhood. This happened to me recently when I peeled open a pack of 1988 Topps and found Spike Owen - totally inconsequential player in the grand scheme of things, but for ten seconds, I was nine years old again (The Baseball Card Blog)

Move over, Hunter Pence - Ryan Braun and his frightening powers smell more like Albert Pujols than you ever will (The Extrapolater)

Is this long? Yes. Read the whole thing anyway - you will not be disappointed (Deadspin)

A member of the Channel 4 News Team infiltrates The FanHouse. Watch your back, Mottram, the takeover has begun! (Or...not) (Just Call Me Juice at The FanHouse)

Who needs statistical evidence to prove that Albert Pujols is better than Aaron Rowand? (Fire Joe Morgan)

"Son, I was once choked by Andre the Giant. I've been to darker places than the front of a Toys R Us." And it gets better. Classic (The Dugout)

Baseball Ejections: Addendum Number Cuatro

Pretty slow week, what with the All-Star break knocking off a couple of days and mellowing out most of the players and managers. A notable exception was Ivan Rodriguez, who got himself tossed and suspended for bumping Mike Winters.

If I missed any this week, please let me know. Keeping my eyes open is not a priority at this point, which wreaks havoc on research. Who knew having a human who depends on you for even the most basic life functions would be so difficult? My wife and I should have just adopted a midget and been done with it.

The updated season list is available by clicking the link on the sidebar.

Atlanta Braves
July 16 – Jeff Francoeur, right field
Bottom 5th by home plate umpire Angel Hernandez for arguing balls and strikes

Cleveland Indians
July 14 – Ryan Garko, first base
Bottom 8th by home plate umpire Mark Carlson for arguing balls and strikes

Detroit Tigers
July 12 – Ivan Rodriguez, catcher
Bottom 4th by home plate umpire Mike Winters for making contact while arguing an obstruction call

You're Dead To Me, "Who's Now"

If you haven't been breathlessly following the world of ESPN for the past two weeks, you may not know that the Worldwide Leader has been running a monthlong feature called "Who's Now", which...oh, hell - I'll let them explain:

"Throughout July, "SportsCenter" will air "Who's Now," a daily series in which viewers will help ESPN determine the ultimate sports star by considering both on-field success and off-field buzz. Based on fan nominations, ESPN Research selected 32 finalists to square off in a single-elimination bracket. The winner of each matchup will advance based upon fan voting (70 percent) and ESPN's three-person panel (30 percent). In the first round, the panel consists of Michael Wilbon, Kirk Herbstreit and Keyshawn Johnson."

Actually, it's the three dudes at the end I need to have a word with. Are you with me, fellas? Are you listening? Alright, here goes...

Are you fucking insane?!

You can't be blamed for some of the horse crap (is that one word or two?) pairings you've been handed. Dwyane Wade vs. Shaun White? LeBron James vs. Kelly Slater? Peyton Manning vs. Amanda Beard? Tom Brady vs. David Ortiz? But when you're given something like Roger Federer vs. Tony Parker, and you completely fuck it up...well, that one is on you, guys.

Come on now - a guy who isn't even among the fifty best guards in NBA history advances to the second round, simply because he married a quasi-celebrity during a time of year when nothing else of import was taking place in the sports world? Not a problem - if he isn't matched up against one of the top five tennis players in the history of the game. Tony Parker was the NBA Finals MVP last season; Roger Federer has won ten of fifteen Grand Slam tournaments since the start of 2004. Do the math. Who's more "Now"? Apparently, the three of you think it's Eva Longoria.

Adding insult to injury is the fact that Federer can't even say, "Well, at least no other tennis players advanced. This ludicrous vote is a product of the sport I play." He can't say that because the day before, the esteemed panel voted - unanimously - for Maria Sharapova over Vince Young, providing the margin of victory in that matchup.

Don't get me wrong, I love Maria Sharapova. Her legs are long and lovely, her commercials with the dog hilarious. But more "Now" than Roger Federer? Only according to the "esteemed" panel.

At least the fans were intelligent enough to get it right.

Visual Crack: The Man Who Should Have Owned The Chicago Cubs

Bill Veeck is, without a doubt, my favorite baseball personality of all time - wacky and off the wall, but with an intellect and marketing instinct that led him to create promotional events that are still admired and copycatted to this day.

This video is long (over nine minutes); if you don't have the time to spare (and honestly, I've only managed to see the first half or so), at least try to sit down and watch the first ninety seconds. That's all you should really need to understand the spirit of Bill Veeck.

Happy Birthday: July 16 - 22

(Baseball birthdays found here have been compiled from the “Frivolities” section at Baseball-Reference.com. All other birthdays were taken from Wikipedia.)

July 16
“Shoeless” Joe Jackson (baseball) – 1889
Lee Elia (baseball) – 1937
Margaret Smith Court (tennis) – 1942
Phoebe Cates (actress) – 1963
Miguel Indurain (cyclist) – 1964
Will Ferrell (actor) – 1967
Barry Sanders (football) – 1968
Corey Feldman (actor) – 1971

July 17
Lou Boudreau (baseball) – 1917
David Hasselhoff (actor) – 1952

July 18
John Glenn (astronaut/senator) – 1921
Joe Torre (baseball) – 1940
Nick Faldo (golf) – 1957
Mike Greenwell (baseball) – 1963
Anfernee Hardaway (basketball) – 1971
Torii Hunter (baseball) – 1975
Melissa Theuriau (newscaster) – 1978

July 19
Ilie Nastase (tennis) – 1946
Stuart Scott (sportscaster) – 1965
Rick Ankiel (baseball) – 1979

July 20
Heinie Manush (baseball) – 1901
Sir Edmund Hillary (mountain climbing) – 1919
Gisele Bundchen (model) – 1980
Troy Smith (football) – 1984

July 21
Johnny Evers (baseball) – 1881
Ernest Hemingway (author) – 1899
Robin Williams (comedian/actor) – 1951
Brandi Chastain (soccer) – 1968
Tamika Catchings (basketball) – 1979
C.C. Sabathia (baseball) – 1980

July 22
Jesse Haines (baseball) – 1893
Alex Trebek (game show host) – 1940
George Clinton (musician) – 1940
Danny Glover (actor) – 1946
Shawn Michaels (pro wrestling) – 1965
Keyshawn Johnson (football) – 1972

Do You Believe In Miracles? YES!

My RSS feed reader is packed with blog posts featuring datelines as old as last Tuesday. My email gets checked approximately once every thirty hours. The only thing I’ve posted on a blog in the last several days is a hastily written entry on why I blog about sports for Just Call Me Juice. Thursday night, I actually forgot the Red Sox were playing until my wife’s cell phone chimed with the final score. And you know what?

I’m perfectly fine with all of that.

Why, you may wonder? What could, in a matter of days, completely alter the worldview of a sports and Internet-obsessed individual? The answer, my friend, is an arm’s length away, currently weighs a shade over eight pounds, and goes by the name of Joseph Reed.

He’s my son.

Joey, as his mother has taken to calling him, was born on Tuesday, July 10, at 8:54 in the A.M. He started things off as a pretty big little man, tipping the scales at 8 lbs., 10 oz. and measuring 21 inches long from toe to top. He sprang out of the gate as a four-tool baby (eating, pooping, crying and sleeping), but I think with a little bit of work and some formula, his puking ability could be unparalleled. The kid’s got potential.

Originally, I wanted this post to be about how every parent thinks his or her kid is special. But you know what? There are really no words that can accurately explain the way I feel when I look at my son and realize that already, at five days old, he is my magnum opus (note to any future children: don’t worry, I love you all equally). Or the feeling of awe that hits me whenever I say or write the words, “my son.” Or the frustration I feel when he cries and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. None of it can truly be defined – not by me, anyway.

Here’s something I can do, however: use this space to thank the people who have helped us out over the past few days:

--The nurses: If you have ever been forced to stay in a hospital for several days at a time, you probably have some sort of appreciation for nurses and the work they do. The knowledge that these women possess and the caring attitudes they display toward complete strangers truly amaze me. Amber, Nancy, Sharon, Teresa, Tiffany, Renee, Cheryl, Cynthia, Terry, Rosemary, and everyone else I know I’m leaving out – there’s a special place in heaven for people like you.

--My in-laws: From 7 o’clock Tuesday morning to 11 o’clock Friday night, one or both of my in-laws made time in their work schedules to be at the hospital with my wife and I. Their presence allowed both of us to take time for ourselves in different ways: my wife actually had the chance to get some rest every afternoon while her father watched the baby, and I was able to run home from time to time, secure in the knowledge that my mother-in-law was keeping an eye on things. I don’t know if that SOUNDS like a big deal, but it might have been the one thing that kept us sane.

--The doctors: Counting the doctor who performed her Cesarean, my wife saw something like four different people with an M.D. tacked onto their name. Each one displayed a genuine concern for her well-being and made sure she was receiving the best care available (and a couple were even nice to me). Likewise, the representatives from the pediatrician we chose convinced us that are son is in good hands. The initial exam was done by an older gentleman who responded to my uncertainty about a name (Joseph wasn’t among the three finalists we had brought to the hospital and I needed to speak to my wife before going public with it) by cheerfully suggesting that my son “looks like a Michael” and proceeding to call him Mike for the rest of the exam. Kinda quirky? Yes. But he had a definite likeable air about him. And don’t even get me started on the guy who did the circumcision – possibly the driest sense of humor I’ve ever stumbled across. Everything was delivered in a total deadpan (think Stephen Wright without the droning monotone). Completely put me at ease, which is surprisingly difficult when watching one’s offspring get his tallywacker snipped.

--Aunt Kathy and Christine: As luck would have it, my wife’s aunt and cousin both work at the hospital where she had the baby and were able to be in the operating room during the procedure. I wasn’t sure what to think about that at first, but it became obvious soon after I entered the room that their presence was a huge positive. For starters, Vicki was able to tell Kathy what she was feeling (she had a local anesthetic and was awake, which can be disconcerting when you start feeling tugging and pulling from down below) and know that Kathy could calm her fears by telling her that everything was normal. Add in Christine’s boundless energy (she’s a nurse – go figure) and obvious enthusiasm for this particular case (right after Joseph was born, she poked her head around the blue curtain separating us from the crime scene and crowed, “Vicki, he’s BEAUTIFUL!”) and the situation couldn’t have been any better.

--My wife: The true star of this show. She carried that little bowling ball around for nine months, took great care to manage her weight (even after a gestational diabetes diagnosis) and was smart enough to cut back to two packs of cigarettes a day (I keed, I keed. The only thing she smoked during her pregnancy was crack). It was an impressive performance even before the doctors cut her open and left a twelve-inch incision across her stomach. The strength she has shown over the last week, even when she can barely get out of bed or walk across the room, has been remarkable.

Thank God For The Philadelphia Phillies

As mentioned once or twice around these parts, I used to work for a minor league baseball team. Not sure how it works in upper-level affiliated organizations, but on our small, short-staffed independent club, the front office doubled as grounds crew, which means I pulled tarp more often than I care to think about.

We had some tough times, especially when fast-moving storms came rolling in out of nowhere and we had to unfold the damn thing in a mini-hurricane. But this...fuuuuuck me. This is an absolute fucking nightmare.



In retrospect, however, there were four things that made me chuckle (besides the entire Phillies team running onto the field to help secure the unruly tarp):

1. The dude from the grounds crew holding on for dear life as the wind-blown tarp DRAGGED him across the field. Somebody needs to interview that guy and find out what the hell was going through his mind as that was happening. Let him talk to Erin Andrews - he's earned it.

2. Abraham Nunez running up to the edge of the tarp and unleashing a sandbag. Just the way he hurls it out there gets me every time.

3. People pulling tarp in white shirts and khakis. (*Shakes head knowingly*) Not a good combination.

4. LaTroy Hawkins. Apparently he was elected Colorado's player representative for this particular endeavor.

(Much love and thanks to DCSportsChick for the video.)

This Might Have Been The Low Point Of Steven Seagal's Acting Career

Just finished up watching "On Deadly Ground" on TNT and appreciating just how awful a movie it is. So terrible it really can't be described in words. (And TNT is following it up with "The Glimmer Man". It's times like this I wish I could survive on less than three hours of sleep.)

This scene is the one that inspired me to check YouTube for anything related to the movie. As luck would have it, it is the only one available, and it is just as horrible as you could possibly want.

Forty Is The New Thirty

Last season, Justin Morneau accomplished two things that guaranteed his place in baseball history: one, he became the first Canadian to take home the American League’s Most Valuable Player award, and two, he became the first Minnesota Twin to hit more than thirty homeruns in a season since 1987.

Thanks to Morneau, the longest current streak without a thirty-homerun hitter now belongs to the San Diego Padres, who are going on six years since Ryan Klesko and Phil Nevin each passed that mark in 2001. Unfortunately, six-year streaks in just about anything aren’t all that exciting (Roger Federer’s ongoing run at Wimbledon notwithstanding), so until Petco Park kills homerun production for another thirty years, we need to find something new to latch onto.

Since forty homers has, over the past fifteen years, become the new thirty, maybe that’s the way to go. A look through the year-by-year team statistics at Baseball-Reference.com confirms that the nineteen seasons the Twins went without a thirty-homerun hitter was nothing; in fact, the team has not had a player hit forty homeruns since Hall of Famer Harmon Killebrew did it for the eighth and final time in 1970.

Carlton Fisk, the Hall of Fame catcher who played 24 seasons and once held the career record for homeruns at the position, had two major league games on his resume in 1970. Ken Griffey Jr., the sixth leading homerun hitter of all-time, wasn’t even a year old. Justin Morneau’s parents were quite possibly not yet married. It was a very long time ago.

At least the Twins have had a player hit forty homeruns at some point in history (with Morneau on pace to do it this season). That’s more than the Kansas City Royals have to hang their hats on. Since entering the league as an expansion franchise in 1969, no Royal has ever managed to hit that many in a season (the closest was Steve Balboni’s 36 in 1985), despite a ballpark that often plays very favorably to hitters.

Much of this can be attributed to the twin demons of bad luck and bad timing. The Royals enjoyed their best success over a ten year period between 1976 and 1985, a point in history where speed was considered much more favorable than power, especially for a team that played on the artificial turf of Royals Stadium. By the time the nineties rolled around and sluggers once again assumed their place as the game’s primary focus, salaries were skyrocketing and the small market Royals were placed in a difficult spot in terms of competition.

The bad luck’s name is Bo Jackson. Make no mistake about it: if Jackson had not injured his hip in a football accident while playing for the Los Angeles Raiders in 1990 and the Royals had spent the money to keep him in free agency, there is a good chance we would not be having this discussion right now. Though his high-water homerun mark in four full seasons prior to the injury was just 32, it’s not a reach to suggest that Bo’s power numbers would have increased along with the rest of baseball’s in the mid-to-late 1990s.

Kansas City’s homerun difficulties actually back further than the Royals. In the thirteen years the Athletics called the city home (1955-67), no player hit more than 38 homeruns in a season, which makes it likely that the only forty homerun seasons Kansas City has ever seen came courtesy of Willard Brown, a 2006 Hall of Fame inductee who played for the Negro Leagues’ Monarchs for several seasons before World War II and later spent time with the St. Louis Browns.

The only other current team that has never had a forty-homerun hitter is the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, which came into existence in 1998 and has thus far neither developed a homegrown slugger nor had the financial resources to pay one for his services. The closest they came to either were Aubrey Huff and Jose Canseco, respectively, who are tied atop the team’s single-season homerun list with 34.

In all, seven teams have not had a forty homerun since the start of the 21st century. As currently constituted, at least three of those clubs – the Twins, Pirates and Tigers – have players capable of passing that total: Morneau has 23 homeruns for Minnesota this season and could reach forty if he is not effected long-term by his recent lung injury; fellow Canadian Jason Bay is working on back-to-back seasons of 32 and 35 in Pittsburgh (only 12 at the break this year, however); and Detroit’s Gary Sheffield has recovered from a dismal April to go deep eighteen times since May 1.

The other four – the Royals, Marlins, D-Rays, and Orioles – are situated differently in that none has a clear-cut power hitter on the team and is not likely to spend money on one in free agency (with the possible exception of Baltimore). The Royals are probably in the best shape, with recent first-round picks Alex Gordon and Billy Butler seeing playing time this season, but neither rookie has distinguished himself thus far offensively (here’s a fun fact: in his first three seasons combined, George Brett had more stolen bases (26) than homeruns (20)). In fact, the organization’s homerun leader is Craig Brazell, a 27-year-old first baseman who is not listed by Baseball America as one of the Royals’ top ten prospects but has thirty round trippers between Double A and Triple A in 2007.

The great thing about baseball is that the players are human, which means that no streak can last forever. Joe DiMaggio went 0-for-3. Cal Ripken took a day off. The Atlanta Braves finished third. The Boston Red Sox won a World Series. And one day, players on all seven of those teams are going to have a forty-homer season.

Of course, by that point, fifty will probably be the new forty.

Visual Crack: What Goes Up, Must Come Down

The temptation was great to bookmark this and hold onto it until July 24. Some things, however, need to be seen right now. The Folly Floater is clearly one of them.

Baseball Ejections: Addendum Numero Tres

(Updates to this project have been taking place on Wednesdays lately, but considering I'll be otherwise occupied and likely away from an Internet connection starting tomorrow morning, it's getting done now. Enjoy.)

Ejections for July 4 through July 8. For a complete list by team, click the link on the left sidebar.

Cincinnati Reds
July 7 – Ryan Freel, third base
Top 8th by first base umpire Chad Fairchild for arguing a call at first base

Kansas City Royals
July 6 – Buddy Bell, manager
Top 9th by home plate umpire Tom Hallion for arguing balls and strikes

Oakland Athletics
July 8 – Joe Blanton, pitcher
Top 7th by home plate umpire Travis Reininger for fighting

San Diego Padres
July 7 – David Wells, pitcher
Top 4th by home plate umpire Ed Hickox for arguing balls and strikes

Seattle Mariners
July 8 – Miguel Batista, pitcher
Top 7th by home plate umpire Travis Reininger for fighting

Texas Rangers
July 8 – Frank Catalanotto, left field
Bottom 1st by home plate umpire Lance Barksdale for arguing balls and strikes

Happy Birthday: July 9 - 15

(Baseball birthdays found here have been compiled from the “Frivolities” section at Baseball-Reference.com. All other birthdays were taken from Wikipedia.)

July 9
O.J. Simpson (football) – 1947
Tom Hanks (actor) – 1956
Trent Green (football) – 1970

July 10
Jake LaMotta (boxing) – 1921
Arthur Ashe (tennis) – 1943
Hal McRae (baseball) – 1945
Andre Dawson (baseball) – 1954
Jessica Simpson (singer) – 1980

July 11
Yul Brynner (actor) – 1920
Leon Spinks (boxing) – 1953
Bert Pena (baseball) – 1959
Al MacInnis (hockey) – 1963
Tanith Belbin (ice dancing) – 1984

July 12
Bill Cosby (comedian) – 1937
Julio Cesar Chavez (boxing) – 1962
Kristi Yamaguchi (figure skating) – 1971

July 13
Stan Coveleski (baseball) – 1889
Harrison Ford (actor) – 1942

July 14
Happy Chandler (baseball) – 1898
Gerald Ford (former U.S. president) – 1913
Robin Ventura (baseball) – 1967
Tim Hudson (baseball) – 1975

July 15
Jesse Ventura (pro wrestling/politician) – 1951
Barry Melrose (hockey) – 1956
Forest Whitaker (actor) – 1961
Diane Kruger (actress) – 1976
Jung Bong (baseball) – 1980

A Gentle Warning To Anyone Who Subscribes To My Blog's RSS Feed

Apologies in advance if this causes an inconvenient influx of old material to flood anyone's RSS inbox, but something needs to be done about the labels on this blog. Long story short: there are too damn many. Do I really need a separate label for "Art Howe"? Or "EPL"? Or any of the countless players I've written about a grand total of once? Don't think so. Time to clean up One More Dying Quail and maybe, just maybe, shorten that never ending main page.

So if your inbox DOES get flooded, do not be alarmed. It's just me, doing a little pre-baby tidying up. Because Lord knows that after Tuesday, I won't be able to get a damn thing done around here.

No Need To Get Snippy

For almost twenty years now, I have been a loyal subscriber to Baseball Digest (frame of reference: the very first issue I ever received featured a cover touting the New York Mets hot new prospect...Gregg Jefferies). It's no Baseball Prospectus or The Hardball Times in terms of hard-hitting analysis, but there are definitely worse publications from which to glean one's baseball knowledge. Besides, the subscription costs like $10 a year.

My favorite section has always been "The Fans Speak Out", a 15-20 page letters segment at the front of the magazine. Many of the questions have lost their relevance over the years (most people don't realize how easy it is, in the year 2007, to find a box score from 1974 or Lefty O'Doul's career batting statistics) due to the availability of information on the Internet, but it's always worth a look for those handful of interesting nuggets that the editors manage to turn up.

The Fans Speak Out is also highly entertaining for the fact that the editors (or whoever is answering the questions) often seem to lack the patience to deal with those questions that could be easily answered. Answers tend to be brief and slightly brusque, lending a tone of "Why are you bothering me with this?" to the proceedings. (Full disclosure: Baseball Digest published one of my questions when I was about twelve, and the response couldn't have been nicer. So either I didn't notice this back then or it's a more recent trend.)

In the August 2007 issue, that editorial angst boiled over in a way that amused the hell out of me. A reader from Connecticut wrote in and raised an interesting question: since the Black Sox threw the World Series in 1919, baseball has watched its players very closely for impropriety and dealt with those who partake in gambling very seriously. But, he asked, is anyone watching and evaluating the umpires to assure that they aren't being "bought off"?

I thought it was a reasonable question. Baseball Digest, not so much - the first sentence of their answer reads:

"Your question lacks common sense and is an insult to the umpiring profession."

Thanks for reading!

The rest of the answer was good, explaining that all umpires are subject to reviews and no umpire has ever been found guilty of intentionally making incorrect calls. They could have left it at that and spared Rollo Gliannini the insult.

THAT should have been saved for the guy a few pages later who thinks that the career records of Sandy Koufax and Greg Maddux are "comparable in all aspects except for strikeouts." Maybe he meant per season, because the career records of the two? Kind of not similar at all.

Coco Crisp Had An Okay Night

Most of the attention from tonight's Red Sox-Devil Rays game will focus on Mike Lowell's stellar performance (5-for-6, HR, 5 RBI), Josh Beckett's nine strikeout outing for his twelfth win, and Carlos Pena's ninth inning battle to avoid strikeout number five (way to put the bat on the ball, 'los), but here is the stat that truly amazes me:

Of Coco Crisp's six plate appearances, four - FOUR - came with the bases loaded. That has to be some sort of unofficial record. To recap (bases loaded PAs in bold):

Plate appearance #1 (1st inning) - Homerun to deep left (Manny Ramirez, Jason Varitek, Mike Lowell score)

Plate appearance #2 (2nd inning) - Fielder's choice (Varitek out at second)

Plate appearance #3 (3rd inning) - Walk (Ramirez scores, Varitek to third, Lowell to second)

Plate appearance #4 (5th inning) - Double to deep center

Plate appearance #5 (6th inning) - Grounded into double play (Doug Mirabelli out at second)

Plate appearance #6 (8th inning) - Struck out swinging

If you're counting, Crisp had five runs batted in, which seems like it should be a pretty good day...then you realize he left SEVEN runners on base over the final eight innings. Not gonna get too upset about it (they DID win 15-4, after all), but yeesh - the guy had the opportunity to drive in something like 37 runs tonight (note: this is a rough estimate). That's pretty unbelievable, especially considering he started off the night batting seventh in the order.

100,000 Looks So Much Bigger Than 99,999

For a minute there – literally, one minute – I was excited.

My goal for One More Dying Quail over the past month or so has been to scrounge up enough interest to blow past the 100,000 visit mark by the end of my first anniversary at this address. When I went to bed last night, we were pretty close (about 100 short), so it wasn’t a surprise to log on this afternoon and see that the numbers had reached six digits.

I figured out where number 100,000 was, checked the details, and was astounded/delighted by the referral: a Google search for the term, “is steve stone gay?” Honestly, I can’t explain what was so great about this, but the best bets are a) somebody was honestly considering that question, and b) the search somehow led them to my corner of the Internet. Awesome.

Until a closer look revealed that I had mistakenly looked at visit number 100,002. Oops.

Backtracking two spots brought me to the true milestone (a click over from the always excellent Rumors and Rants), details of which confirmed two long held beliefs: I am HUGE in Wisconsin and lawyers are drawn to One More Dying Quail like moths to a flame. Seriously, tell me something I don’t know.

The Visit came just before noon today (Central time, I think) and lasted exactly zero seconds. That’s actually not as bad as it sounds – Site Meter only gives a visit time if the user actually clicks on more than one page within a blog (i.e. somewhere in the archives), so there’s no way of telling if this person actually stopped by for just a few seconds or hung around and read some stuff on the main page before moving on.

My only regret is that I opted against including a link to my one and only Brett Favre story in that huge link dump last night. Certainly someone who lives somewhere between Waukesha and Milwaukee would have appreciated the sentiment.

Anyway, there’s really nothing to offer Mr. (or Ms.) 100,000 beyond my sincerest thanks for checking out the site (I really should make up a t-shirt or something for occasions like this). I hope he (or she) enjoyed his (or her) stay today and decides to swing by again sometime.

Did Anybody Think To Bring The Cake?

Through the years, a lot of interesting stuff has happened on July 5. For example:

1946 – The bikini is introduced.

1947 – Larry Doby debuts with the Cleveland Indians as the first African-American player in American League history (amazingly, after more or less ignoring Doby during the Jack Robinson festivities in April, ESPN is finally acknowledging that Doby exists).

1950 – Huey Lewis is born.

1975 – Arthur Ashe becomes the first African-American man to win a singles title at Wimbledon.

1989 – The first episode of “Seinfeld” airs.

2002 – Ted Williams dies.

Quite the day, wouldn’t you say? And, if I may be permitted a moment of self-indulgence, allow me to add one more…

2006 – One More Dying Quail is born.

That’s right – today is the one-year anniversary of the day that I sat down at my desktop, signed up for a Blogger account, and started tearing my hair out trying to think of a totally cool blog name.

My goal at the outset was to work on my writing, to develop a voice and maybe get my ability and confidence to the point that someone would want to pay me for my work. (After using the word “my” four times in that last sentence, I’m not sure how far I’ve really progressed). I already had a blog over at Fox Sports (still do, although it rarely gets updated), but figured this might prove to be an opportunity to gain exposure to a different corner of the Internet; specifically, I had started reading Deadspin and figured I had a better chance of getting linked there with a Blogger address than with a Fox Sports one.

I didn’t write much at the outset (about 40 posts total from July to November), but that changed in December, when I decided to commit myself to posting more frequently and actually making an effort to write quality material. In the months that have followed, I’ve reached back into my brain and come out with a lot of stuff. Some of it has been pretty good, some of it frighteningly bad, some of it just…there. But I’ve enjoyed every second of it.

The best thing about blogging for a year, besides the feeling that I’ve actually achieved something just by sticking around in a cluttered blogosphere? The friendships. Around the time I started writing more, I began frequenting Awful Announcing, mainly because his site was bigger than mine and he promised a link to anyone who left a comment (score!). Occasional comments led to some live-blogging, which led to inclusion in a group known throughout the Internet (Note: “throughout the Internet” may be a slight hyperbole) as the Channel Four News Team, five great bloggers (and me) who not only consistently put out some of the best work on the Internet, but are some of the best people I’ve run across. AA, RUTS, S2N, Extra P, Marco – thanks fellas. You make this fun. Here’s hoping we can keep the News Team going for awhile, ‘cause it’s been a blast.

Anyway, that’s pretty much all I’ve got for this horribly self-indulgent post. Thanks to everyone who has linked here in the last year and to everyone who has followed one of those links (99,901 of you so far – the goal by the end of the day is 100,000, which should be doable) – hope you find enough of interest to come back again later.

If not, read the links below and try – just TRY – to tell me it’s not worth a return trip. ‘Cause, you know, they’re some of my favorites:

Sports Memories I’ll Tell My Grandkids About: Kevin Romine, Morgan Magic and the Day I Came To Love Baseball (originally posted July 24, 2006)

How To Deal With Tony C., Dewey And Other Red Sox Greats (originally posted August 20, 2006)

Presenting…The All-Time Todd Team (originally posted October 19, 2006) – Special Note: this post and an email to Will Leitch earned me my first Deadspin link

My Father, My Hero (originally posted December 3, 2006)

The Second Saturday In September (originally posted December 5, 2006)

Welcome to the Bizarro Hall of Fame: Introducing the Class of 2007 (originally posted January 10, 2007) – Note: the alternate name for the Bizarro Hall of Fame is “The Series That Won’t Die”

The Fine Art Of Hitting .400 (originally posted January 31, 2007)

Remember Jack, But Don’t Forget Larry (originally posted April 8, 2007)

If You Need Inspiration, Look No Further Than Buck O’Neil (originally posted on May 17, 2007)
Battle Of The Sideline Reporters (originally posted on May 21, 2007) – the post that resulted in over 7,000 hits, a one-day OMDQ record

Craig Biggio: Hall of Famer? (originally posted on June 19, 2007)

Baseball Ejections: Addendum Numero Dos

Not much craziness (although I read somewher that Torii Hunter's rampage last night was memorable) this week. None of the usual suspects (Gardenhire, Cox, Garner) was thrown out of a game - on the contrary, the Rangers, Blue Jays and Nationals all added to their meager totals thus far.

Detroit Tigers (4)
June 29 – Lloyd McClendon, hitting coach
Bottom 1st by home plate umpire Marty Foster for arguing balls and strikes

Minnesota Twins (6)
July 3 – Torii Hunter, center field
Top 8th by home plate umpire Ron Kulpa for arguing balls and strikes

Texas Rangers (3)
July 3 – Art Howe, bench coach
Top 8th by home plate umpire John Hirschbeck for arguing balls and strikes

Toronto Blue Jays (3)
June 27 – John Gibbons, manager
Top 9th by home plate manager Mark Wegner for arguing balls and strikes

June 27 – Frank Thomas, designated hitter
Top 9th by home plate umpire Mark Wegner for arguing balls and strikes

Washington Nationals (2)
July 2 – Robert Fick, pinch-hitterTop 8th by home plate umpire Scott Barry for arguing balls and strikes

Visual Crack: Jason McElwain Made It Rain

This video is over a year old; by now, just about everyone is familiar with the story of Jason McElwain, the autistic high school student and basketball team manager who responded to his first on-court appearance with a twenty point outburst.

Yeah, it's old. But every so often, you just need to be inspired, you know?

Research Is Important

During my drive home from work today, Sporting News Radio's Dave Smith was talking about the idea of a World vs. America All-Star Game in Major League Baseball (worked real well for the NHL, if I recall) and giving his picks for the teams.

David Ortiz over Albert Pujols for the World team? Okay, even if the rationale used was that Pujols plays in the National League.

The American team, however, presented a problem. Russell Martin as one of the top two catchers? Justin Morneau as the designated hitter? Somebody should tell Smith that neither of these players are, strictly speaking, American.

In fairness, I should mention that when first base came up for discussion, Morneau's name was the first that came to mind. It was Martin's name that caught my attention. Also, one could argue that by calling it the "American" team, it's covering all of North America, so Canada and Mexico are included. I don' t necessarily buy that (unless Smith qualified it as the North American team earlier in the discussion before shortening it to make it easier to say). When someone says America, they aren't talking about the continent of North America. They're talking about the United States.

Everybody Loves Orange Aliens

As previously noted, today is my friend Sarah's birthday, and since I didn't get her an actual present (or a card - I'm a guy, what do you want from me?), she'll have to make do with being serenaded by three orange aliens.

Try and tell me this isn't cooler than a present/card. Go ahead - TRY.

Alright - Exactly How Guilty IS Tank Johnson?

When Tank Johnson was arrested on suspicion of drunken driving last month, the general consensus in the blog world was that Tank had broken the law - he was out late at night, speeding, and at least somewhat impaired - and deserved whatever he got, which of course ended up being his release from the Bears and uncertainty regarding his future.

There was an oft-mentioned phrase in stories from that time, however, that seemed to confuse a lot of people. According to police, Johnson was "impaired to the slightest degree". Nobody knew what it meant, and more importantly, nobody seemed all that interested in figuring it out.

To the Internet!

From what I found at the time, "impaired to the slightest degree" in Arizona appears to mean that just because the Blood Alcohol Content (BAC) of the accused is below the legal limit of .08 does not mean the law has not been broken. That law, the more serious version most of us think of when we talk about drunk driving laws, is called "Per Se DUI".

If a motor vehicle operator appears to be impaired, however, and the results of a blood test support that finding, the driver isn't necessarily off the hook even if his BAC is only a Tank Johnson-esque .072. Misdemeanor DUI charges, known as Basic DUI, can still be filed.

How does this affect Johnson, whose BAC came back slightly below the legal limit (when I say slightly, I mean slightly - about .008 below)? According to the AP story on USA Today.com, maybe it won't:

"It is still possible for Johnson to be charged with DUI, but it would be unusual barring special circumstances. The law in Arizona provides for such prosecutions based on overall signs and symptoms of intoxication."

But here's the thing - an Arizona lawyer who specializes in DUI cases wrote the following in a June 27 entry on his blog:

"Prosecutors are sending a serious message that they can and do ignore the legal limit for DUI, and choose to prosecute people who have alcohol contents of far less than the legal limit, sometimes as low as .02. That means that anybody who has ANYTHING to drink is in danger of getting a DWI conviction.

The per se DUI law (.08 or more) means that the prosecutor does not have to prove that the person is impaired because intoxication is presumed. However, regardless of blood alcohol content (BAC) most states also give the prosecution the option of proving that the person was impaired by alcohol."

The common perception is that Tank Johnson is out of the woods in terms of guilt and/or jail time and likely won't see his suspension from Roger Goodell increased (assuming someone signs him). The way I read this, however, it appears he may still have a long way to go, especially if the prosecutor in his case decides to press the issue against a high-profile individual who has serious issues with the law in his not-so-distant past.

This leads me to view the recent backlash against the Bears in a different light. Should they have cut Johnson earlier, following his earlier run-ins with the fuzz? Probably, although I can see the reasons for wanting to hang onto him and help a troubled individual through a difficult time. But for everyone who says, "The Bears jumped the gun and cut him when his BAC wasn't even over the legal limit and he didn't commit a crime," well, I'm not sure that's the case.

Of course, I'm not a lawyer, so this all may be totally off-base and I should go sit quietly in the corner. If that's the case, if any lawyers out there have anything to add (I'm looking at you, RUTS), please feel free to call me on my ignorance. Just be gentle.

Happy Birthday: July 2 - 8

(Baseball birthdays found here have been compiled from the “Frivolities” section at Baseball-Reference.com. All other birthdays were taken from Wikipedia.)

One special birthday this week: my friend Sarah turns 23 on Tuesday, July 3. I was told that if I didn’t include her in this, she would be very sad and/or angry, and we can’t have that. Besides, she’s one of the only people who reads this even semi-regularly, so she gets the mention.

July 2
Thurgood Marshall (U.S. Supreme Court justice) – 1908
Medgar Evars (civil rights activist) – 1925
Richard Petty (auto racing) – 1937
Bret Hart (pro wrestling) – 1957
Jose Canseco (baseball) – 1964
Troy Brown (football) – 1971
Joe Thornton (hockey) – 1979
Lindsay Lohan (actress/train wreck) – 1986

July 3
Tom Cruise (actor) – 1962
Moises Alou (baseball) – 1966
Teemu Selanne (hockey) – 1970

July 4
Mickey Welch (baseball) – 1859
Al Davis (football) – 1929
Geraldo Rivera (reporter) – 1943

July 5
Goose Gossage (baseball) – 1951
James Lofton (football) – 1956

July 6
George W. Bush (U.S. president) – 1946
Willie Randolph (baseball) – 1954

July 7
Ted “Double Duty” Radcliffe (baseball) – 1902
Satchel Paige (baseball) – 1906ish
Billy Herman (baseball) – 1909
Ringo Starr (musician) – 1940
Len Barker (baseball) – 1955
Joe Sakic (hockey) – 1969
Lisa Leslie (basketball) – 1972
Michelle Kwan (figure skating) – 1980

July 8

Jack Lambert (football) – 1952