As this Sunday's championship match - the Super Bowel - for the Professional League of American Rules Football stalks ever closer, I note that the Commissioner of the PLARF recently mooted the subject of potential rules changes for upcoming seasons. Unlike playing rules for the National Pastime which were perfected nearly 100 years ago and are now under assault by the tyrannical and illegitimate A. Bartlett "Bug" Selig [sic], masquerading as the Commissioner of Major League Baseball, the PLARF has made habitual practice of fundamentally changing the rules of their game every season. It is under this rubric that I propose the following changes in order to improve professional American rules football:
1) Abolish the concept of Forward Progress. This principle unfairly penalizes superior performance by a defensive player (or players) and is just one of the rules which gives undue favor towards the offense in a modern game which already tilts too far in favor of that side of the line of scrimmage. If Forward Progress is to be permitted, it renders American Rules Football no different from so-called flag or touch football. The ball carrier (whether runner, receiver or quarterback) is down on the spot wherever the defender drives his opponent's pathetic carcass into the frozen tundra.
2) Remove the goalposts altogether. Following a play in which one team pushes the ball across the goal line for 6 points, that team should then have the option of running the ball for 1 point after touchdown (a phrase all but forgotten) or passing the football for 2 points after touchdown. Kicking for a field goal is an abomination against the sport. Nothing in all of American sportsdom is as unsatisfying and anti-climactic as watching a hard-fought battle waged in the line-of-scrimmage trenches with battering runs and daring down-field passes end when some 100-pound, single-bar face mask wearing specialist in a pristine uniform prances out onto the field and performs a balletic flourish which determines the ultimate outcome. Weak. If immediate removal of goalposts is a bridge too far because fans are desirous of tearing them down after a stirring victory in the college game, at least prohibit Field Goal attempts in the final 5 minutes of the game and for whatever might pass as next season's iteration of overtime. Or, as another half-measure, do not permit Field Goal attempts from inside the 40-yard line at any point during the game. Require teams to win by pushing the ball over the goal line and not though the uprights.
3) Get rid of helmets and shoulder pads. These are unnecessary accouterments which foster the violent collisions and resultant devastating - sometime lifelong - injuries that are turning American Rules Football into nothing more than a triage of debilitating attrition. While at first seeming counter intuitive, this will force defensive players to re-learn the masculine art of tackling and end the battering ram, human missile hits which are causing so many head injuries. Anyone who thinks otherwise hasn't watched professional rugby recently enough for it to have made a lasting impression.
4) Eliminate the forward pass. American Rules Football was a better game when so often its games ended in a 0-0 tie. This too will dramatically reduce the number and severity of injuries when you no longer have receivers and secondary players colliding at maximum speeds when simultaneously attempting to perform some variation of aerial gymnastics. Regarding the prospect of a Super Bowel ending in a 0-0 tie; just imagine how great that outcome would be for the sportswriters, commentators and fans. It would give them unlimited fodder for off-season columns and radio call-in programs! This proposal has the ancillary benefit of rending obsolete such penalties as intentional grounding, pass interference, and illegal man down field to name but three.
Roll the credits!
There really are people this moronic! Here's another look (below), zoomed out for a more broad perspective:
Perhaps this is just a previously unknown side effect of the Polar Vortex? The driver of this Suburban was lucky the 5:15 didn't lay down some thunder on his/her green machine of maximum carbon consumption!
The Cincinnati Reds' 2014 Winter Caravan stopped in Hamilton (or "H-town," as we cool kids say) Saturday afternoon, the 25th of January. The Caravan made a stop earlier that morning in Dayton, Ohio at the National Air Force Museum. Had Reily Township not been buried in blowing and drifting White Death [read: snow], I would have made that road trip. Reds & Air Force hardware? I'm all about that! As it was, the Reds Caravan was late in arriving at Miami University's satellite Hamilton campus because of those same adverse driving conditions. Neither rain nor dark of night nor Death of White shall prevent the Reds Winter Caravan from its appointed rounds!
Reds broadcaster Jim Kelch emceed the festivities, ball park announcer Joe Zerhusen facilitated the public's inquisitive and astute questions for Reds center fielder Billy Hamilton, Reds Hall of Fame pitcher Tom "Mr Perfect" Browning, radio color analyst and ribs & ice cream aficionado Jeff "the Cowboy" Brantley, baseball operations dude Dick Williams and farmhand prospect Jesse Winker. Afterward, free autographs were to be had for anyone so inclined and who might also not absentmindedly leave their complimentary autographs behind (frowny face). Now I don't feel so bad about Rosie Red hilariously stiffing me for her autograph.
During the public's bruising Q-and-A of the Caravan, Rosie Red visited the Disney XD Girls. At far right (above), big brother Lou found himself too enthralled with Billy Hamilton's dissertation on base stealing to smile for the camera.
From left to right (above); Billy Hamilton, Jesse Winker (sporting the Reds' new road spring training and batting practice jerseys... black, not good), the Cowboy, Jim Kelch, Mr Perfect and Dick Williams. While signing my now-lost autograph sheet, Mr Perfect had a funny story to tell about getting sick on roller coaster rides at Kings Island. I can also break this news; the Cowboy gave me exclusive information that he will be appearing in new Montgomery Inn and/or [not certain] UDF commercials during the upcoming season. You (sorta) heard it here first!
If anybody finds my autographs, send me an email.
Frowny face.
..... It's Bacon.
The Heavy Artillery One Word Commissary Review:
"Unimpressive."
Credit for the hotter than a match quote goes to Hall of Famer Marty Brennaman who is oft heard to pronounce it over the magical airwaves of the Reds Radio Network, usually in reference to a team's manager that is arguing vociferously and in a most animated way with one or more of the umpires. That Martyism also is reflective of how I feel about some of the dictatorial and illegitimate decisions being made during this Hot Stove season by or at the direction of the Office of the Commissioner of Baseball (four times using "of" in a single sentence is three times too many. I assign blame for that occurrence to the Commissioner's Office as well). To wit:
1) Broad expansion of instant replay
I support this decision in the abstract as a worthy and righteous thought experiment. In this post-modern age of high-speed computerized processing, high definition digital cameras and monitors, satellite telecommunications, NASA-sourced miniaturization technologies and a whole host of other multi-hyphenated Skunk Works-derived gizmos too multitudinous to include here, we baseball game viewers at home are instantaneously bombarded with a dozen rapid-fire super slow motion high definition replays from six different 800x-zoom digital camera angles for a bang-bang play at second base before the pitcher goes into his next wind-up even for a getaway day game the third week in April between two last-place teams (which, by definition, must therefore include the Chicago Cubs). In other, more brief words, in today's game we have multiple video replay sources that verify instantly and with near-absolute certainty (as near-absolute as imperfect humans may ever deign to aspire) whether an umpire has or has not made the correct call on the field. All sides say, and I agree, this subject is about getting the calls right.
My primary objection is with the means by which Major League Baseball vis a vis the Office of the Commissioner of Baseball proposes to apply a more broadly expanded use of instant replay.
Any intimation that Major League Baseball might incorporate one or more of the single brain cell so-called innovations of the Professional League of American Rules Football (better known in these parts as the PLARF) is outrageous and would justifiably merit a response among baseball fans akin to that of Minuteman resistance at Concord and Lexington circa April 1775. I was on the verge of apoplexy when hearing of one proposal to have managers throw a flag onto the playing field in order to signal their desire for umpires to review a call, as we see in the PLARF. The only flags associated with baseball are the gonfalon banners of Franklin Pierce Adams and championship pennants. Providence interceded and, by all reports, that particular recommendation has been banished to the ash heap of misguided propositions. The dark forces of meddlesome stratagem have evidently succeeded in importing to baseball the PLARF policy of permitting each coach (or in baseball, each manager) one "challenge" which may be extended ad infinitum via a successful overturn. My instinctive reaction is to oppose this idea on the grounds of it being sourced from the PLARF alone. However, that's too easy an out, if you will forgive my obviously intentional pun. Here's my better, more reasoned basis for objection:
MLB is over-thinking the practical application of expanded replay, and one trade union is missing out on a golden opportunity.
Stipulating my recitation [above] of all the modern technological elements involved which would facilitate that which you are about to read [below], what follows is my own proposal - in brief outline - for a simple, streamlined way to incorporate more replay into professional baseball.
a) Add a fifth umpire (you're welcome, Umpire's Union) into the standard four umpire rotation currently in use. The fifth umpire - on days when he is not umpiring on the playing field - mans a video replay booth in the stadium, accompanied by the official scorers and, if you like, one or more representatives of the Office of the Commissioner of Baseball. The official scorers (and perhaps reps of MLB) may serve as independent witnesses to the actions and decisions of the fifth umpire. Thus, the fifth umpire is not sealed away in a secretive, unobserved location wherein no one else bears witness to his activities in the same way the field umpires are observed by multiple eyes at all times as a means to ensure propriety. Whether the crew chief is eligible to man the video booth or not I will leave to others to decide as an argument could be made that a crew chief should be on the field and close to the action and with direct interaction between himself and the respective managers at any and all times possible (excluding illness, injury, etc).
b) The crew chief and the home plate umpire (and for those games when the crew chief is umpiring behind the dish, the senior or next-most senior umpire) shall wear a secure Bluetooth-type device which permits them to be in direct communication with the fifth umpire. Having two field umpires thus equipped gives fans the confidence of technological redundancy.
c) Blue lights will be affixed at various, widely visible points around the playing field; At one or both ends of the dugouts, on the numerous scoreboards throughout the ballparks. Blue is the color traditionally associated with umpires and simultaneously is not a color that will be confused for signaling balls (green) or strikes (red), for example, as one sees on the scoreboard at Fenway Park. Whether the dugout lights display a solid blue light or flash like a police strobe and whether the scoreboards turn a solid blue or flash blue I will also leave to trained programmers and graphic designers who are better appointed to make that decision. These blue lights will be activated at the direction and sole discretion of the fifth umpire any time he sees a potentially erroneous call on the field. The blue lights alert the field umpires, teams and fans that a call is under review. Action on the field is paused when the blue light is activated, and the fifth umpire will simultaneously be in communication with the two field umpires so equipped. Pending the decision of the fifth umpire, the field umpires will execute the final replay-based decision and the game will then continue. This process shall be performed any and every time the fifth umpire observes a potentially overturnable (I think I just invented a word) call.
d) In the event of technical difficulties, whether with the video replays, the communication devices, blue lights, etc, then the game will proceed just as it has for almost 140 years with umpires on the field being the final arbiters.
In summation; Good call, game proceeds as usual. Questionable call, blue light is activated by fifth umpire in video booth, game play pauses, video replay umpire communicates to field umpires correct call. Game play then proceeds.
Ergo, my proposal eliminates the farce of PLARF-inspired manager challenges and puts into action a system by which all questionable calls are immediately adjudicated.
For fans of Lou Piniella, do not despair. There will always be situations for which volatile managers will have wont or cause to storm the field and make an entertaining spectacle of himself. For example, the fifth umpire may have misinterpreted the rule book as evidenced by his opting to not review via video replay what to a manager appears to be a questionable call (or "no call") on the field and - blammo! - out of the dugout pops Sweet Lou Piniella, soon followed by the grand theatre of first base being chucked into right field. Twice. My proposal simply reduces the frequency of such outbursts while making sure that every suspect call is reviewed, double-checked for accuracy (like your McDonald's Quarter Pounder with extra cheese no pickle & fries), game play is not interrupted or delayed unnecessarily by sometimes irritable managers and, most importantly, the correct calls are made as often as humanly possible.
2) Prohibiting home plate collisions
This vague Utopian proposal, while not yet formalized, is ridiculous and will make a mockery of Major League Baseball.
As most of you know, Mr B was a great ballplayer back in those halcyon days of mid-century Pax Americana yesteryear for the Redskins of Miami University (Prodesse Quam Conspici; I'm wearing out the Latin here). To this day, any time there is a play at the plate Mr B is not roused from his seat, he doesn't cheer and to him it matters not for which team the catcher plays. Mr B does not like to see any catcher get blown up.
I grew up, as did - I suspect - most baseball fans, being thrilled by the most dramatic play in the National Pastime - the home plate collision. Anyone who played catcher for any length of time, as Mr B did himself, has been run over while blocking the plate. It hurts. Players may be injured. Yet it's an integral part of the game (see preceding link). No one roots for injury, you won't find schadenfreude in the grandstand. But with the game on the line, 9th inning, 2 outs, down a run or perhaps tied, a base runner charging for home and a throw coming into the catcher.... what else would you have either the base runner or the catcher do? Give himself up? Willingly pull up and be tagged out or step aside and allow the run to score? We already have the so-called sweep tag. We already have base runners attempting to slide if they have access to any part of the plate in an effort to avoid said tag.
The play at the plate is the very embodiment of the game; Run scoring and run prevention. The play at the plate must be allowed to resolve itself without, as some suggestions have been made, requiring base runners to always slide into home plate, the umpire determining if the throw arrived early enough (and thus making it an automatic out if the throw beat the base runner to the plate), transmogrifying any play at the plate into an automatic force play (wherein the catcher is required only to control the ball and step on the plate ahead of the base runner). Look, very simple real-life examples illustrate why no rule that eliminates the home plate collision is sensible. Players sliding into home plate sometimes miss the plate altogether. If the base runner misses the plate but beat the throw is he still going to be ruled "safe?" Catchers sometimes fail to catch thrown balls or drop the ball when transitioning into a position to apply the tag to a base runner. If the throw beats the base runner but the catcher fails to catch or control the ball, is the base runner still going to be ruled "out?"
As a brief aside, if home plate collisions are to be proscribed by rule, then what of a base runner breaking up a potential double play at second base by purposefully taking out the second baseman or shortstop? First basemen have spent time on the disabled list from injuries sustained by inadvertent collisions with base runners (typically as the first baseman attempts to field an errant throw). While one is purposeful and the other inadvertent, they can and do have the same outcome, that being an injured fielder spending considerable time disabled. While I might stipulate that a rule cannot protect a fielder from accidental, unintended contact (although I suspect there are those in the Office of the Commissioner of Baseball who disagree), creating a new rule that seeks to eliminate or prohibit a base runner from breaking up a potential double play [as we all know; you cannot assume a double play] would upset the delicate equilibrium of safe/out outcomes that has graced baseball since the game was first codified by Alexander Joy Cartwright circa 1845 and would violate all historical paradigms of base running and competitive spirit which define the game of baseball as it applies to the base paths and, to its ultimate expression, scoring runs.
Arguments in favor of eliminating home plate collisions are made citing Peter Edward Rose "ending" or "ruining" the career of Ray Fosse when the Hit King barreled into, over and through the Cleveland catcher in the deciding play of the 1970 All-Star Game. Fosse went on to be an All-Star the following season, too. And won a Gold Glove in 1971, also. Ray Fosse batted .301 in 300 plate appearances for Cleveland in 1976. In limited action with Seattle in 1977 Fosse batted .353.
The most recent example which has been used as the fulcrum for those wanting to adopt rules that have the purpose of eliminating home plate collisions cite the season-ending injury sustained by the San Francisco Giants' Buster Posey in 2011. Note, by the way, the game circumstances; 12th inning, 2 out, tie game. The play at the plate - the game - must resolve itself naturally. It is unfortunate that Buster was injured on the play, but under the circumstances there is no other fair way to determine the ultimate outcome of that game. Buster Posey had been the National League's Rookie of the Year in 2010, he is a charismatic figure and there was a strong sentiment following his sensational Rookie season that Buster would be one of the enduring stars of Major League Baseball for years to come. And then in 2011 he got blown up in the collision linked above and suddenly there was vociferous consternation over Buster Posey's future playing career and the loss that would devolve upon the game of baseball and for baseball fans in general. In 2012 Buster Posey led the N.L. in batting (.336), was an All-Star and concluded his campaign by being honored as the National League's Most Valuable Player. Last season, 2013, Buster was again an All-Star and batted .294 in 520 at bats.
Violent collisions at home plate are a rarity and even when one examines the most infamous examples of catchers being injured - Fosse & Posey, the lingering effects of said injuries (as painful as they were, at the time, for the recipients) did not definitively alter nor provably diminish their future playing careers.
The concept of statistically rare events leads me to my next objection.
3) Requiring pitchers to hear helmets
Is Dodger superstar pitcher Clayton Kershaw a 7 year old child learning to ride a bicycle?
We are aware, of course, of examples of children playing Little League ball who have been struck in the head, in the solar plexus by batted balls and who died from their injuries. Today, first and third base coaches in the Majors are required to wear helmets when manning their respective coaches boxes following the death of a minor league base coach who was struck in the head by a batted ball and later died from his injury. These are sad, tragic incidents. Yet we should not confuse still-developing, physically immature Little Leaguers and aging, arthritic, immobile base coaches possessing neither fielders' gloves nor the dexterity to protect themselves with the full-grown, over-muscled, strong-like-bull athletic demi-gods who play Major League Baseball in general and who hurl the old horsehide in particular.
In the history of Major League Baseball, there has been but one batter struck by a pitched ball who was killed; the Cleveland Indians' shortstop Ray Chapman when he was beaned in the temple by Yankee pitcher Carl Mays in 1920. Somewhere on the information super highway you could find the answer (I did not but then again I didn't look very hard) to how many players in total have played Major League Baseball since 1876. An echo from deep within the recesses of my mind whispers something like 17,000. The statistical probability of being killed while playing Major League Baseball is remote on a scale of intergalactic remoteness. Yet, when one considers the corollary - and our subject at hand, someone who has not considered this matter as closely as I have [bragging; it's so unbecoming] might think of the statistical probability of a pitcher being catastrophically injured (or worse) by a batted ball by determining how many Major League pitchers there have been since 1876 (+/- 10,000?) and then formulating a mathematical equation that includes 0 [zero], or the total number of pitchers killed or otherwise permanently maimed. My Reily math says that statistical probability is... umm... zero.
But wait!
Don't calculate this statistical probability by the number of pitchers there have been throughout the history of Major League Baseball but rather by the incalculable number of pitches that have ever been hurled plateward and you begin to develop a mathematical formulation that has both a 0 [zero number of Major League pitchers killed, maimed, etc] coupled with a number that is comically-bordering-on-impossibly high [insert here an alien-like, plausibly fictional series of digits which represent the total number of pitches thrown in the timeless and unceasing arc of Major League Baseball].
MLB should devote its time, energy and resources to real, practical issues and not fantastical inventions of impossibilities the description of which could only be dreamed up by a used car salesman from Milwaukee masquerading as the Commissioner of Baseball.
4) Bonds, Clemens, et all, the HOF and Pete Rose
Both the alleged (Bonds, Clemens, McGwire, Sosa) and the proven (Palmeiro) users of so-called Performance Enhancing Drugs saw their vote totals drop on this year's Hall of Fame balloting (Palmeiro - he of 569 home runs and 3020 hits - dropped off the ballot altogether after failing to garner the minimum 5% of votes). This year's BBWAA ballot was exceptionally large, encompassing nearly 40 retired players from which to select a maximum of 10 names, and I think that factor played as much a role in the declining numbers for the above named cheaters as did anything else, such as a theoretical deterioration of support. As time wears on, I am observing an increasing number of BBWAA voters who express a softening of the formerly hard line position regarding those alleged cheaters who, despite a variety of accusational sources, did not fail a MLB drug test [see the 60 Minutes interview with Tony Bosch of Biogenesis infamy to understand what little significance should be placed on beating a MLB test]. I ascribe this gradual retreat of BBWAA voters to a simple desire to be viewed by the growing number of younger, analytics-based BBWAA voters who may be inclined to perceive their older colleagues as reactionary moralists and, therefore, "uncool." I do not doubt that in coming years we will see the recent declining trajectory of Hall of Fame vote totals reverse for Bonds and Clemens (perhaps not in the next two years, however, as the 2015 HOF class will be again be similarly large and then in 2016 George Kenneth Griffey, Junior will appear on the HOF ballot. Even the ignoramuses who populate BBWAA ranks would not have the temerity to place the names of Bonds and Clemens alongside that of Junior). Somewhere down the road - 5 years, maybe 12 years - the hallowed doors to Cooperstown will open for Barry "the San Francisco Cheat" [credit: Lou] Bonds and Roger the Rocket. I doubt that Big Mac and Slamming Sammy will ever be so fortunate.
One facet to this eventual change in sentiment may be observed in comments HOFer Fergie Jenkins recently made on MLB Network's morning program Hot Stove. According to the one-time cocaine smuggler Jenkins, when HOFers get together (such as for the Hall of Fame induction weekend, one might presume) there are whispers that there already is a Hall of Fame player who used P.E.D.s. Among the recent inductees whose careers coincided with the so-called "setriod era" are:
a) Barry Larkin. Considering he is a Cincinnati hometown kid and played his whole career in a Reds uniform, we can confidently rule him out as being capable of any wrong doing. Moving right along.
b) Roberto Alomar. Robbie did once spit in an umpire's face so he might be unstable enough to violate the integrity of baseball... but who can be sure? Spitting and doping are not exactly the same thing.
c) Rickey Henderson. Hmmmm. Let's see; Teammates in Oakland with Jose Canseco and Mark McGwire. Played for Tony La Russa, who later managed McGwire in St Louis when Big Mac tore Roger Maris from the record books and was revealed to be a degenerate creatine user. And what was the one thing that was consistently said about Rickey, the lone attribute that made him so unique as a lead-off hitter? Oh yes, I remember now. Rickey was the greatest power-hitting lead-off hitter of all-time. Thanks, Fergie! We now know which P.E.D. derelict has been enshrined in Cooperstown.
We live in an ever-increasingly permissive society and the BBWAA is not immune to that trend. The word is out - we already have one Hall of Famer from the steroid era who used P.E.D.s. How, one might reasonably ask, can the BBWAA justifiably keep out of Cooperstown other players who may have been, or were, guilty of the same crime against the integrity of baseball?
Most telling, however, and that which shines most favorably upon Pete Rose is the rationale I heard - more than any other - proffered by BBWAA voters paving the way for eventual Hall of Fame support for the likes of Bonds & Clemens; They were Hall of Fame players before they engaged in activities detrimental to the integrity of baseball. What was once the lifeline for believers in the righteous faith of Saint Peter Edward is now being adopted as gospel by the heathens of the BBWAA for their own false god Flavors of the Week (Bonds, Clemens, et al). Cast in the stark, brutal light of means justifying the ends, I say Let the BBWAA infidels have their pagan gods of Bonds and Clemens, for in accepting them on the grounds that they were (or would have been) Hall of Famers before committing apostasy against the National Pastime they cannot then deny Saint Peter Edward. The BBWAA is gradually adopting a position which establishes the principle that it matters not what sin against baseball was committed, but rather when it may have been committed.
Sadly for our beloved Hit King, he'll have to wait until Bonds and Clemens are first wreathed in BBWAA laurels before Pete Rose gains acceptance in Cooperstown. I fear that when that joyous day comes, Pete will have long departed this world for The Great Clubhouse in the Sky.
Roll closing credits!
A veritable Heat Wave.
Among the innumerable accolades accredited to THE WHO, they were, when considering both the quantity and quality of their output in this field, perhaps the greatest cover band of all-time. "(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave" was composed by the Motown team of Brian Holland, Lamont Dozier and Eddie Holland (universally known as Holland-Dozier-Holland) and first made popular by Martha and the Vandellas in 1963. In addition to being a staple of live performances in their early days, THE WHO also released a studio version of "Heat Wave" on their second album A Quick One (1966). During those formative years on the London club circuit THE WHO promoted themselves as playing "Maximum R&B."
Long-time subscribers knew that already, right?
A brief survey of H-D-H songs of which you will be familiar:
"Where Did Our Love Go?"
"Baby I Need Your Loving"
"Baby Love"
"How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)"
"Stop! In The Name Of Love"
"Nowhere To Run"
"I Can't Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch)"
"This Old Heart Of Mine"
"You Can't Hurry Love"
"Reach Out I'll be There"
"You Keep Me Hanging On"
As kids today are wont to say, "That's just sick!" Altogether, twelve H-D-H songs reached #1 on the Billboard chart. Let's take a moment to reflect upon the greatness that once was Motown.
THE WHO incorporated a wide variety of Motown/Tamla songs into their live and studio repertoire. However, for our purposes here today I will highlight only the Holland-Dozier-Holland songs performed by The Greatest Rock n' Roll Band in the World.
"I Gotta Dance To Keep From Crying" (1964, as The High Numbers)
"Leaving Here" (1965)
"Baby Don't You Do It" (1971)
"(I'm A) Roadrunner" (1975)
The Motown influence may be seen elsewhere in the broader WHO compositional oeuvre. The band's 1966 album A Quick One included a song that shares the title of the H-D-H song Run, Run, Run (The Supremes version released in 1964). As early as 1978 THE WHO began trying out on the stage assorted versions of a song that eventually became a B-side Pete Townshend solo song titled "Dance It Away" (1982) which features WHO bassist John Entwistle and Keith Moon's replacement on drums, Kenney Jones (so that makes it 75% WHO. Or something). While the lyrical content and musical stylings of "Dance It Away" are certainly different from "I Gotta Dance To Keep From Crying," the thematic concept of dancing away one's problems is incontrovertibly similar.
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With yesterday's induction into the National Baseball Hall of Fame both Greg "Mad Dog" Maddux (Jude's boy) and Tom "the Reds Killer" Glavine, and acknowledging the on-going controversy over HOF-eligible players who are alleged to have used performance enhancing drugs during their playing careers, I feel obligated today to link this, one of the greatest-of-all Nike commercials.
This Jeep Main Battle Tank temperature reading was the lowest I observed yesterday, recorded by my R2 [Android] Unit at Seventeen Hundred Hours while conducting routine patrol operations in and around Reily Township. At that same time, reports were coming in over the Jeep's SatCom [Sirius/XM] Receiver that approximate regional wind chills were -35.
No reports yet of Naval icebreakers on the Mighty Ohio River.
Before moving forward into the Brave New Year of 2014, here's a final look back at some leftovers from December 2013.
Merry Ranchmas Eve found me watching (above) the day-long Ken Burns' Baseball documentary marathon on MLB Network. Ranchmas Day found me watching the day-long Doctor Who marathon on BBC America. Could life possibly be any better than this?!
Santa Mike did a little Christmas shopping at the Reds HOF and gift shop. My ulterior motive was that, despite going to Great American Ball Park for ballgames some 25 times in 2013, I never took the opportunity to tour the Hall of Fame's autograph exhibit.
I was most interested in seeing the really old autographs from Reds players of the distant past. Understandably, lighting throughout the exhibit was muted so as to not accelerate the inevitable process of damage that light does to autographs. I did snap (without flash) two autographs with my R2 Android unit before giving up:
National Baseball Hall of Fame inductee Wahoo Sam Crawford who began his Major League playing career with the Mighty Cincinnati Reds (1899-1902). And.....
..... Reds team Hall of Fame pitcher Frank "Noodles" Hahn (1899-1905), the Reds' first great pitcher of the 20th century. The exhibit also featured displays of well-known figures outside of baseball. One display case featured athletes from other, necessarily inferior sports. Another had autographs of world leaders (where was the autograph of Nigel Farage?). Yet another (below) featured autographs from the golden age of Hollywood ("At the Movies"):
At upper left, just below the "At" on the display case shown above, was an autographed (of course) 8x10 of "The Duke," John Wayne. There were also autographs for, among others; Clark Gable, Bob Hope, and Abbott & Costello.
Of course, the Reds HOF & Museum had other exhibits on display as well. Below you will see a cigar cutter from 1869:
This 1869 Cincinnati Red Stockings cigar cutter, according to its companion information card, is the only one known in existence. Very cool.
In the photo above, the baseball on the left was one that Red center fielder Edd Roush blasted for a home run (almost certainly of the inside-the-park species) on Opening Day, 1920, at old Redland (later Crosley) Field. The Mighty Redlegs won that day, beating the toothless Chicago Cubs 7-3. Both starting pitchers threw complete games and the length of the game clocked in at 1 hour, 43 minutes. At right, the ball used to record the final out in 1919, the Reds first World Series championship. The stitching on these old Major League baseballs alternated red and blue thread (nowadays they appear to be orange and black). I think that was a really cool style, much like the old ABA basketballs, but probably made it that much more difficult for batters to pick up the spin of a pitched horsehide.
Above you see the cover for the Palace of the Fans grandstand dedication program from May 16th, 1902.
At left in the photo above you see the road (gray) version of the Reds 1936 "Palm Beach" jersey. That script Reds was used for both home and road jersey's sporadically in 1936 and 1937 and appears today across the front of the Reds spring training/batting practice jersey.
There also was a Joe Morgan exhibit during 2013. Above you see a game-used jersey and glove. We understand that middle infielders wear small gloves but Little Joe's glove was microscopic! Next time you wax silly about Dat Dude Fan Favorite being the greatest-fielding 2B in Reds history, and as you conveniently forget about Redleg second basemen such as Pokey Reese, Johnny Temple and Bid McPhee, just remember how small Little Joe's glove was and compare it to that of BP. Also recall that Bid McPhee wore no glove for most of his career.
Following a vigorous retail expedition, it was time to retire to lunch at the Moerlein Lager House:
Smoked sausage and fries. $7. When in Porkopolis.....
On New Year's Eve, I tagged along with Big Brother Lou and my two nieces to see the Harlem Globetrotters take on the formidable World All-Stars at the Ervin J Nutter Center - aka "The Nut House" - somewhere in the general proximity of Wright State University in Fairborn, Ohio which itself is in the general proximity of Dayton, Ohio. I hadn't been to the Nut House since October 22, 1996 to see RUSH performing on their Test For Echo world tour (only the 3rd stop on the tour. Lou and I caught RUSH again on the same tour on June 4, 1997 at Riverbend). In the photo below, the Globetrotters were in the midst of performing their venerable bucket of confetti act (which never gets old):
If you look closely, you might discern a Globetrotter standing in the area between the fans and the basketball court mischievously holding a bucket.
The throng was so massive that we parked in a satellite lot. By satellite, I mean we were in a parking lot about 23,000 miles away from the Nut House. Luckily for us, the university ran a shuttle to swiftly carry Globetrotter fans from vehicle to arena. And by shuttle, I mean we rode it in from about 23,000 miles away. The WSU shuttles came in the form of old skool school buses of the variety in use circa the 1970s and for which most of use have intimate familiarity. Lou and I grabbed one back row seat, and the girls jumped into the other back row seat.
This was a highly coincidental place for Lou and I to be found. From Kindergarten through 5th grade, Lou was the first student to board Raymond Hinkle's bus #11 each morning. When Lou was a sixth grader, I joined him as a Kindergartner myself. For that Carter Administration-era school year, Lou and I sat together each morning in this same location; Last row, right side. It was the only year that Lou and I rode a school bus together. Immediately we reminisced about those halcyon days of Reily Township yesteryear; Comically grumpy bus driver, seats with exposed metal frames and back rests, a particular portion of the route with a one lane bridge over which the bus bounded like a bucking bronco and we kids would anticipate the bump by bouncing up and down in our seats so that when bus #11 struck ground zero we all flew out of our seats. The proudest kids were those who caught enough air to bump their heads on the roof of the bus. Bus #11 had green seats, vastly superior to the mocha-colored seats you see above. Here's Lou with the Disney XD Girls, fresh off their 9-day whirlwind invasion of Disney World:
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Heavy Artillery began firing live ammunition 13 months ago. Shockingly, there have been 6,696 page views during that time frame. You read that right, almost seven thousand! I sincerely thank each of you for taking time out of your busy days to read and, when so moved, to participate. To whatever extent Heavy Artillery rates on the Spectrum of Wild Popularity, it is because of my loyal readers.
Thank you, all.
Interestingly(?), 389 of those page views originated from international sources, led by Angola with 104 page views and runner-up Russia logging in with 90 page views. Heavy Artillery, evidently, has an international following that is most rabid in countries ruled by warlords or oligarchs. Be advised; I am 99% certain this means that the NSA is now monitoring your interwebz activity. You're welcome!
Happy New Year!
