Let's retire the "Closer" role with Mariano Rivera.

I've written very little about baseball considering that it is a sport I enjoy watching and following. There's a poetic quality to the sport and its stadiums. And it's a sport that honors its players' greatness in memorable fashion. Unfortunately, it's also a sport that often dishonors itself with its devotion to flawed statistics.

As the current season concludes in exciting fashion, thanks in large part to the league's new playoff format, attention will be diverted from the wildcard and best record races to acknowledge the brilliant career of New York Yankees relief pitcher Mariano Rivera. For the majority of his career, Rivera has been a "Closer," and in addition to being considering one of the best baseball players in history, he is widely accepted as the best "Closer" of all time.

Rivera said goodbye to Yankee stadium Thursday night, and his career comes to an end on Sunday in Houston when Yankees play the Astros. If the universe is kind, Rivera will have an opportunity to pitch the ninth inning, perhaps earning one final save. It would be a fitting end for Rivera, and an even more fitting end to the Closer role.

As has been documented by intelligent baseball writers like Jonah Keri and Rob Neyer, nothing hamstrings a manager's decision-making in late-game situations more than the notion of saving a closer for a save situation. Baseball is entirely a game of matchups, and the notion of not deploying the best relief pitcher to face the opposition's best batter, simply because it's not a save situation or it's the eighth as opposed to the ninth inning, is absurd. The save statistic has turned otherwise reasonable men into bumbling, dumbfounded hacks as managers in the late innings of baseball games.

Admittedly, I'm not 100% on board with this crusade. I do think there is some truth to the notion that the last three outs of a game are the hardest to get - except of course when they're not. There's no guarantee that the highest leverage at-bat of a baseball game involving a relief pitcher will occur in the ninth inning when a team has the lead. It could occur in the seventh or eighth inning, when the game is tied or a team is trailing. Yet, managers routinely pass on the opportunity to insert their best relief pitchers into the game unless they have a lead, in a save situation, in the ninth inning.

There shouldn't be a need for such radical action as abolishing the save statistic in baseball, but the persistent mismanagement of the best arm in the bullpen indicates that maybe there is. In close games, managers, and even pitchers, focus their attention on securing a save to the detriment of their team's chances of securing a win. "Closers" lose focus pitching in non-save situations, as if it should matter if pitching with a two-run lead as opposed to a four-run advantage or a tie contest. Baseball is beholden to the save, and it's tie to break its shackles on the game.

And how great would it be if Mariano Rivera records a save on Sunday in Houston, and it's the last save in baseball history?

Dear Bud Selig, please fix MLB's All-Star Break. K, Thanks.

Each year I fall into the same trap of excitement over Major League Baseball's All-Star Break. I examine the rosters to evaluate both the fan voting and managerial selections. I anticipate who will participate in the Home Run Derby. And I sit back, relax and prepare to watch the actual Tuesday night contest ritually. And each year for the past several years, I find that I am rather disappointed with the viewing experience.

Now don't misunderstand me - I'm not about to stop watching. As a die-hard sports and baseball fan, I'll continue to look forward to the events of the summer classic like a six year old looks forward to Christmas (or Hanukkah or whatever). This year I was home in PA during the All-Star break and was able to get together with my friend Justin to watch the Home Run Derby for the first time in I don't know how many years. During high school and summers in college we watched all types of sporting events together, so it was an awesome experience. However, its awesomeness would have been so much greater if the Home Run Derby hadn't become so nearly unwatchable.

MLB's Home Run Derby has become terribly long and tedious, mostly because hitters take five or six pitches for every swing. I think the time has come for Bud Selig to step in and fix this. A lot of ideas have been floated around to speed up the pace of the Derby, and they all have varying degrees of merit, but I have my own idea that I haven't heard repeated at all in the media...

Put an umpire behind the plate! That's right - get an MLB ump behind home plate to call strikes. Instituting a straight pitch count won't necessarily work because there's no guarantee that all of the pitches will be strikes - and I could wander off on a tangent about the random people the participants have throwing to them, but I'll refrain for the moment. No, instead the ump should call strikes and every third strike taken should count as an out. This will force the batters to swing at more balls and speed up the Derby. Would Josh Hamilton have been able to hit 28 home runs in the old Yankee Stadium under such a format? Not sure - though it appears certain could do it in the new one - but I'll sacrifice that singular performance for a higher quality Home Run Derby overall.

And then there's the All-Star game itself, with which I have two issues to raise. First, the game starts too late and the pre-game festivities last too long. If there's going to be 45 minutes of ceremonial presentations before the start of the game - which as great and moving as they are is about 25 minutes too many - FOX needs to start their coverage at 7:00pm or 7:30pm EST. From a business stance, all sports need young fans to ensure their future growth and prosperity. Baseball loses out on many potential young fans by starting its All-Star game and World Series games too late. I realize 7:00pm EST is pretty early on the West coast, but I definitely agree with those who argue that it's better if everyone can watch the end of the game as opposed to the beginning.

Second, the outcome of the All-Star game should have absolutely no bearing on which team has the home-field advantage in the World Series. That honor should be awarded to the team with the best record, period. The American League earning the home-field advantage in this year's World Series because Justin Upton misplayed a ball of the wall and Adam Jones hit a sacrifice fly - two players who will have zero association with the fall classic this year (I guess Justin might attend if his brother B.J. is playing in it) - is completely stupid, and every time Bud Selig attempts to defend the practice he sounds completely stupid.

This season, the Dodgers might wrap up the NL West by the beginning of September and the best record in the National League by the middle of September, and have two weeks of meaningless baseball before the playoffs begin. Conversely, the Red Sox, Yankees and Rays may be battling for both the AL East division crown and the best record in the American League on the final day of the season. There are pros and cons for these teams in both scenarios, but there are only pros for the fans in the American League example. But what if the Dodgers had to keep an eye on the AL East race in an effort to secure the best record in baseball and home-field advantage in the World Series? Doesn't this make the end of the season more interesting? Doesn't this add meaning to the final week or the regular season in a new and unique way for the MLB? Doesn't this accentuate the presence and importance of interleague play?

Baseball needs to learn from basketball in this regard. At the end of the NBA regular season the top playoff seeds were set, but the overall number one and the team with home-court advantage in the NBA finals was still up for grabs between the Lakers and Cavs. Granted, not much came of that this year - it appears Phil Jackson wasn't too concerned about facing the Cavs in the Finals, or was wise enough to know that there was little/no chance they'd make it there - but the potential for something interesting existed, and really that's all I ask.

P.S. I had an additional thought I neglected to include in my original posting: MLB should institute little league rules for the All-Star game. Keep the rosters to 25 players - the 33 or whatever it is currently is absurd - and allow the starters to re-enter the game. Albert Pujols can start at 1st base for the National League, play 4 or 5 innings, be taken out and then be used to pinch hit in a clutch situation in the 8th or 9th innings. Ichiro can start in the outfield for the American League, be taken out after the 4th inning or so and then be reinserted into the lineup when the AL needs more speed on the bases in the late innings. I don't see how this doesn't make the game more interesting and more enjoyable, start to finish, for players and fans alike.

April 13, 2009

Our formation is achieved through innumerable experiences with one another. Our relationships with each other, whether they be life-long or instantaneous, immediate or distant, intentional or consequential, are vital to our development as human beings and individuals. We assist each other in writing the narratives of our lives in ways we’re intensely aware of, and ways we may forever strain to understand.

Growing up in a rural setting, cable television wasn’t an option. We had one TV and it got six channels, seven if the weather was nice. But I don’t believe it would have mattered how many channels we received, because on any childhood summer night there was only one station I’d watch.

Born on the same day they won their first World Series, I grew up a Philadelphia Phillies fanatic. Into my teens I lived and died through the baseball season with their wins and losses, and unfortunately their losses greatly exceeded their wins. Yet many pieces of who I am emerged from those experiences. Specifically, I am an insatiable sports fan who lives to witness the once-in-a-lifetime moments that competitive athletics provides us. Abstractly, the voice I listened to night after night still plays vividly in my memory.

Harry Kalas was the voice of the Phillies from 1971 to today, April 13, 2009. His life ended this afternoon, peacefully, in a pressbox prior to an afternoon game. I cannot accurately put to words the manner by which Harry Kalas influenced me, but I know that in many ways he introduced me to the world of sports and was an integral part of some of my earliest memories. He opened doors for me leading to many of my strongest passions. His professionalism, demeanor and appreciation for the sport and the athletes he covered continued to impress and inspire me into my not-so-young adulthood.

Somehow, this man who meant so much to those who knew him personally and who was distinguished and recognized among his peers for his excellence in his profession, succeeded in inspiring and influences thousands, possibly millions of people whom he never knew. I realized today that though I never met him, wrote him or dreamt of being him, Harry Kalas was an incredibly influential figure in my life as he was for generations of Philadelphia sports fans.

I believe the world is full of such influential people, many of whom never ascend to any degree of fame or fortune and never intend to do so. Such people do what they love for the purpose of bringing joy to those around them. Through their work they leave a meaningful imprint on the world and influence and inspire others to achieve great deeds.

Harry Kalas went about his daily job of broadcasting Philadelphia Phillies games because he loved doing so, and he brought joy to and instilled dreams in young fans like myself as he did. Finally, today, I realized that in my life I do want to be Harry Kalas.

How I experienced 22 years of being a Red Sox fan in just over 4 hours...

(I am very much delinquent in publishing this entry and the couple that follow it. I do apologize - I got kinda busy with school and never had the time to devote to completing them. Nevertheless, here they are...)

When Mookie Wilson's grounder down the first base line rolled through Bill Buckner's legs during game 6 of the 1986 World Series, the error broke the spirit of Red Sox fans everywhere, especially in Boston. They had suffered heartbreaking defeats previously, but that moment defined what Dan Shaughnessy named "the Curse of the Bambino." For the next 18 years, no matter how good the Red Sox team looked on paper, no matter how good they played during the season, the fans were unable to believe that their team would triumph.

One would think that the World Series victory in 2004 and the historic comeback down 0-3 to the New York Yankees would have eliminated any essence of the curse, any semblance of doubt among their fans that the Red Sox were a team capable of victory, capable of overcoming extreme adversity. However, while watching game 5 of the 2008 ALCS at CitySide Bar and Grille in Brighton, MA, I noticed that this wasn't the case. With the Red Sox trailing in the 7th inning, the crowds at the bar and at Fenway (noticeable on the television broadcast) were strangely silent and dismal.

But with Dustin Pedroia at bat and fouling off pitches, something happened. Fans at Fenway started to cheer on the pint-sized second baseman as the crowd became alive once again. The not-so-sober somber patrons at the bar began to perk up and feed off of the Fenway fans' excitement. A couple clutch hits by David Ortiz and J.D. Drew later, and the Red Sox completed an improbable comeback. Suddenly Red Sox fans across Boston and across the United States exuded confidence in their team's ability to win two games in Tampa Bay and earn a birth into their third World Series in five years.

Obviously you know by now that didn't happen. But on that night, October 16, 2008, being among the many fans watching the game on TV in a local Boston bar was an unforgettable experience. Those few hours I spent there encapsulated for me the experience of being a Red Sox fan since the tricky ball trickled through the legs of an unfortunate individual. It was as close to a Boston baptism as I imagine I'll receive - though the recent winter weather has me rethinking that last statement.

defining the underdogs

One aspect of living in Boston I was especially looking forward to was the frenzy surrounding the New England Patriots during the football season. Sadly, that lasted all of about 8 minutes into the season, just as long as Tom Brady lasted. Brady's injury was devastating for numerous reasons, the least of which being that I drafted him in the first round for my fantasy football team (by the way, my second round pick, Marques Colston, also happens to be out - not really a great year for me and fantasy football evidently). But more importantly, the Patriots had established themselves as the NFL's most dominant team, and Tom Brady was their iconic leader. Like them or not, they were the benchmark to which other teams aspired.

With Dallas falling to Washington this past weekend, the NFL is suddenly wide open - there's no clear cut favorite to win or even reach the Super Bowl in either conference. Similarly, thanks to a wild weekend of improbable upsets, the path to college football's BCS Championship is pretty open-ended as well. While I admit that these conditions do make following the NFL and NCAA football seasons exciting - I love that BYU has a legitimate shot at getting to the national championship game - without the dominant team separating itself from the pack, there's just something missing. Teams like the New England Patriots of this decade, the New York Yankees and Chicago Bulls of the 1990's, and the San Francisco 49ers of the 1980's - I was born in 1980 so I'll stop there. Also, I know the Red Wings and maybe even the Pittsburgh Penguins fit in here somewhere, but I never followed hockey closely enough to know exactly where - enhance their sports with their presence. They offer us as fans opportunities to witness greatness. And they also help us define the teams against which they compete.

With New England's dominance in question, and teams like Indianapolis, Dallas and San Diego appearing quite vulnerable at times this season, it become difficult to define which teams are the favorites and which teams are the underdogs, and rooting for the underdog is one of the most sacred acts of a sports fan. Like it or not, the Patriots make the NFL more exciting. Personally, I like to root for them, but those who marvel at them or simply root against them generate a lot of passionate enthusiasm in the process. Whatever role they fill, good guy or bad guy, the Patriots make the NFL better, just as USC makes college football better, Notre Dame makes it even better still when they're one of the top teams, the the Yankees make MLB more interesting when they're on top. Without these teams, great sports stories like George Mason, the 2003 Florida Marlins, and even the 2004 Boston Red Sox lose some of their remarkability. Don't buy it? The Tampa Bay Rays are the sports story of the year, going from last place to first place. But the real reason they're such a compelling story, they had to climb over the heavy favorites the Yankees and Red Sox to win the AL East. Facing the top dogs of baseball, the Rays were the ultimate underdogs, and that's exactly why they're so much fun to watch and root for - unless of course you happen to be a Yanks or Sox fan.

city of angels? apparently so...

If you're a general manager of a professional sports team in Los Angeles, and that team does not play hockey and is not named the Clippers, life is good at the moment. This past winter, Mitch Kupchak successfully acquired Paul Gasol in a laughable deal - the Lakers gave up some promising young talent, but were also able to unload Kwame Brown for a proven NBA star ensuring that the team will be a title contender for years to come. The trade completely shifted the balance of power in the NBA's Western Conference.

And now, Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim General Manager Tony Reagins just acquired the most valuable position player on the trade market - not counting Manny Ramirez - without giving that much back in return. With Mark Teixeira in their lineup and playing first base, the Angels go from being a strong team that wins games with pitching, defense and smart offense, to a team that still pitches well, plays outstanding defense and, potentially, can absolutely mash. This trade seemingly shifts the balance of power in the American League - who knows if the Angels will conquer their October nemesis this year, the Red Sox, but with Teixeira in their lineup they do have to be considered the favorite to represent the AL in the World Series.

This deal may not set up the Angels for prolonged future success like the Lakers' trade did for that team - much uncertainty exists as to whether or not the team can afford to resign Teixeira and keep franchise cornerstones, Vlad, K-Rod and Lackey. But regardless, it significantly increases their chances of winning it all this year, and as a smart organization, even if they can't keep all their pieces in place, the Angels will still be a competitive team for years to come.

Also, the Mark Teixeira trade has to be pleasing to Dodgers General Manager Ned Colletti. Since division opponent Arizona failed to acquire the first baseman who they clearly targeted, struggling teams in the NL West, like the Dodgers, still have a chance to make a minor deal and compete with the Diamondbacks for the pennant the rest of the season. It's unlikely Reagins thought of helping his colleague when making the trade, but he effectively kept a lot of media pressure from swelling outside Collett's office.

I've followed Kobe Bryant since he was in high school, and I'm a Lakers fan as a result of him being a Laker. So, the Gasol trade definitely brought a smile to my face. But ever since I visited Boston, where my younger sister attended college and I'm about to attend grad school, I've had an affection for the Sox. So, this Angels trade is quite a bit troubling to me at the moment, especially since I feel like the Braves should have gotten more. Kotchman looks to be a good young first baseman, and I satisfactory replacement for Teixeira in the lineup, but acquiring just him and one mediocre pitching prospect seems weak to me. The Braves need middle infield help as well, and I'm surprised they didn't ask for Maicer Izturis or at least another top-level prospect in return for a stud, bat me third or fourth every night guy like Teixeira.

Though I may be dismayed by the trade and others in baseball and all sports, I must admit - the chase for October glory just got a lot more interesting, and I'm sure it will get even more interesting before the deadline passes tomorrow afternoon. As a fan, I'm excited to sit back and watch it all unfold.

Now if only LA could do something about the smog, crime and earthquakes...
(And of course shortly after publishing this post, MannyWood happened!)