Back after the 'Morning Drive' experience; Thoughts on the goings on -- World Series, Moneyball, BCS, Stern and Gumbel, and Notre Dame

Tweet
I took last week off from the blog for the simple reason that I was waking up at 4:30 each morning in Orlando to co-host ‘Morning Drive,’ on The Golf Channel and I found it difficult to do the show, spend some time out at Disney (for the golf tournament not for Mickey Mouse—sadly) and THEN sit down and write. Twenty years ago I probably could have pulled it off; maybe even 10 years ago. Now, not so much.

Actually I had a choice most afternoons: I could swim or I could blog. I opted to swim. That probably worked out best for everyone.

Life’s back to normal now—or at least my definition of normal—and I have a number of thoughts on all that’s going on in sports, which is a lot.

Let me start though, with the ‘Morning Drive,’ experience. The 4:30 wake-up calls sucked (I’m one of those people who always wakes up before the alarm or the call regardless of the hour. I’ve always wondered how that works, but I swear to God I rolled over in bed at exactly 4:25 each day) but the rest of the experience was fun. Everyone I worked with could not have been more welcoming and I like the way the show sets up: the hosts talk a lot. I like to talk.

If you’ve ever watched the show you know the hosts dress casually, no jacket and tie. I was told to wear whatever I wanted but NOT Golf Channel gear. So, the first day I showed up in a Richmond basketball shirt that Jerry Wainwright gave me years ago after I spoke at the team’s pre-season banquet.

The Richmond shirt got far more attention than anything I said all morning. Kevin Streelman, who is a Duke graduate, was an in-studio guest. “What’s with the Richmond shirt?” he asked on-air.

Fred Couples, who came on to respond to Greg Norman criticizing his pick of Tiger Woods for The Presidents Cup team, answered my first question about what Norman had said this way: “Didn’t you go to Duke University?”

“Yes,” I said. “They gave me a degree if I promised never to come back.”

“So why are you wearing a Richmond basketball shirt? What’s your connection to Richmond?”

“Duke never sends me stuff,” I answered.

I thought wearing an Army shirt two days later would get a lot more comment than the Richmond shirt but it didn’t. I guess people DO know my connection to the military academies even though it isn’t what it used to be.

Overall, I enjoyed the experience. I wish we’d had more time with Kelsey Grammer, who was doing a satellite tour to promote his new show and undoubtedly looked at his schedule and said, ‘Golf Channel, why the hell am I doing Golf Channel?’ I still watch Frasier most nights when I’m home and I still think Niles is one of TV’s all-time funny characters. Trivia: Did you know that Frasier was originally created for a six-show stint on ‘Cheers,’ and was supposed to be written out after Diane left him at the alter? The producers liked the character—and Grammer—so much they kept him in the show and he ended up playing Frasier for 20 years, winning Emmys for playing him on THREE shows—he won one as a guest-star on ‘Wings,’ in addition to ‘Cheers,’ and ‘Frasier.’

Okay, enough of that. On to some real stuff.

--The World Series. Riveting. Four games out of five have been terrific and the one blowout had the Albert Pujols three home run performance. I truly hope that Pujols stays in St. Louis. Great baseball towns deserve great players and Pujols is clearly that. For the record though, Tony LaRussa’s explanation that no one told Pujols that the media wanted to talk to him after his gaffe in game two doesn’t hold even a little water. No one wanted to talk to him after game 2 of the World Series? Seriously? Oh wait, maybe it’s that he’s not an important player. No. That doesn’t work either. Come on Tony, you’re better than that.

Pujols should stay in St. Louis and Prince Fielder should stay in Milwaukee. The latter isn’t likely to happen. Fielder’s going to go where he gets offered the most money and one of the big-money teams will probably come in with a blow-away offer. Too bad. Milwaukee is also a wonderful baseball town.

--On another baseball note I saw, ‘Moneyball,’ on Saturday. It’s good theater. Michael Lewis is brilliant and Aaron Sorkin is a genius so that’s about as good a writing combination as you can have. That said, I’d recommend people read my friend David Maraniss’s op-ed in the Tuesday Washington Post because it sums up pretty well how I feel about the whole ‘moneyball,’ concept. In the movie, Miguel Tejada, Tim Hudson, Barry Zito and Mark Mulder essentially don’t exist.

I’m not saying there isn’t merit to the whole ‘moneyball,’ way of thinking. I think the best organizations combine good scouting with all the Bill James stuff. I also think if Dave Roberts hadn’t stolen second base in game 4 of the ALCS in 2004, the whole concept would not be glorified the way it is. And the A’s and Beane haven’t looked quite so brilliant since the above-named players left town. Still, I enjoyed the movie just like I enjoyed the book although I couldn’t help but feel badly for Art Howe. (Philip Seymour Hoffman was great. He was also superb in ‘The Ides of March.’ I’m on a roll seeing movies of late).

--The BCS. Oh please. Or, as my good friend Bill Hancock said over the weekend, “good grief.” I’m hoping and praying for four undefeated teams so the politicians in two states can go ballistic when ‘their,’ teams don’t make the championship game.

--The NBA lockout, David Stern and Bryant Gumbel. The lockout is getting uglier by the minute. More and more people I talk to think the whole season is going by the boards. I’m still not buying it. I think both sides will cave after New Year’s; they’ll agree on something close to a 50-50 split on revenue and a harder though not totally inflexible cap. Stern is a tough guy to play poker against but he’s also smart enough to know he needs the playoffs on TV. Kobe Bryant isn’t getting any younger. For that matter, neither is LeBron James, believe it or not. I wonder how a second round pick like Maryland’s Jordan Williams, who hasn’t yet seen a penny and isn’t guaranteed a penny once the lockout ends, feels about leaving school right about now.

Gumbel is a very smart guy and you can bet he knew exactly what he was saying when he compared Stern to a plantation owner who is ‘treating men like boys,’ in his commentary on HBO’s ‘Real Sports.’ Gumbel knew what the reaction would be when he said what he said but he was clearly tired—as many people are—of Stern’s tactics and wanted to be SURE he got that message across.

I’m a Stern guy. I think he’s been a great commissioner. Can he be imperious? You bet. But I also know that implying in any way that what he’s doing has racial connotations is ridiculous. This is business, pure and simple. Stern’s been charged by the owners with getting them a better deal and he will do and say what has to be said and done to get that deal. Charles Barkley—of all people—brought up a telling stat: Since Stern became commissioner in 1984 the average player salary has gone from $300,000 a year to $5.1 million a year. And that’s in a league not nearly as successful as the NFL where there are STILL no guaranteed contracts. If Gumbel should have a problem with a commissioner or a group of owners for the way they treat their players he should focus on football.

Finally: Did Brian Kelly REALLY say the following when he was asked if he was concerned about quarterback Dayne Crist’s mental state after Crist fumbled a snap on the one-yard line with Notre Dame trailing Southern California 17-10: “No. I don’t have to worry about it he does.”? Seriously? He said that?

Wow. Talk about standing up for your players. Kelly also threw his whole team under the bus for a poor first half but refused to second-guess himself for his team’s preparation for the game coming off a bye week. Kelly cited his record coming off bye weeks the last 20 years as the reason he KNEW he didn’t do anything wrong.

So what’s his record coming off a bye week THIS year? Does this guy take responsibility for ANYTHING?

All’s Well in Yankeeland – Rivera is Difference Again; Great Answers Yesterday

And so, all is well in Yankeeland again. At least for a couple weeks.

There’s no doubting that the Yankees deserved their World Series win over the Phillies. They got a gutty performance from Andy Pettitte, whose postseason pitching may someday be the reason he gets into the Hall of Fame—although the steroids admissions two years ago may be the reason he DOESN’T get in the Hall.

They got Derek Jeter play from Derek Jeter, a remarkable performance from Hidecki Matsui and just enough from Mark Texeira and Alex Rodriguez to be champions for the first time in nine years.

In the end though, the difference was Mariano Rivera. It isn’t as if he’s been completely infallible as a postseason pitcher—he gave up the home run to Sandy Alomar in 1997 and the two runs in the ninth inning in Arizona in 2001—but all that does is prove he’s human. Sort of human anyway. What Rivera does for the Yankees is something no closer of this era has done: he makes the game seven innings for the both teams.

Everyone knows that if the game gets to the eighth inning with the Yankees in front, Rivera’s coming in and the odds are that’s it, he’s going to do what needs to be done and the Yankees will win the game. He now has FORTY saves in postseason. Think about that number. That’s a very good SEASON for a closer in saves in the games that matter the most.

What’s truly funny is to think back two years to when Joba Chamberlain first came up at mid-season. He was throwing 98—back then he actually threw strikes on a consistent basis—and within two weeks he’d become a cult figure in New York. There were actually people saying it was time to ease Rivera out of the closer’s role (he’s had his annual run of a couple bad outings about then) and give the ball to Chamberlain.

I know I bring up “Living on the Black,” a lot when writing about baseball but, if nothing else, Mike Mussina and Tom Glavine were two of the really smart guys I’ve met along the way in sports. I remember Mussina talking about the notion of replacing Rivera with Chamberlain.

 “People really make me laugh sometimes,” he said. “They just cannot understand what Mo does or how he does it and what it means to a team to look out at the bullpen and know he’s the guy coming in to finish off a game. Heck, he’s worth a few outs before he gets in there because guys are squeezing the bats knowing if they don’t get runs before he gets in the game’s over. Joba’s a great talent but we’ve all seen great talents come up in this game. You don’t even think about replacing Mariano Rivera until HE tells you it might be time.” He smiled. “And then you try to talk him out of it.”

Think about this too: The Yankees had three absolute lock Hall of Famers on the field last night: Rivera, Jeter and Rodriguez—whose bases loaded strike out in the third would have overshadowed everything else he’s done in postseason had Matsui not picked him up and had the Yankees not gone on to win.  Pettitte will be a very credible Hall of Fame possibility at some point and the Yankees have younger players like Texeira and CC Sabathia who may get to that level. Point being: they’re really good.

Of course the Phillies started a probably Hall of Famer last night too in Pedro Martinez. But it was clear from the start that he didn’t have it and it’s almost surprising it took the Yankees as long as it did to get to him.  In fact, he did a good job of keeping the game competitive. Philadelphia will be a force for a while: Cole Hamels had a bad year and so did Brad Lidge and the team was two wins from winning the whole thing again. They were, without doubt, the National League’s best team and with Cliff Lee there all season, they should enter 2010 as the favorites to win again—although who knows what the offseason will bring.

The first question that’s going to come up is what the Yankees will do with Matsui. The consensus all year was that this was his sayonara tour in New York. He’s 37 and his knees were so bad he didn’t play an inning in the field all year. But he got very hot the second half and was great in postseason. He is one of those guys everyone in the clubhouse likes and, beyond that, how do you not re-sign the World Series MVP who has done everything you’ve asked for seven years. The Yankees have more money than God, they should give him a two year deal and if he doesn’t produce it’s a thank-you present. Hell, A-Rod should offer to pay half of it if necessary.

I don’t know about you, but I always feel a certain melancholy the day after The World Series ends. It doesn’t matter who wins, I know there’s no baseball of any kind for four months and no real baseball for five months—even when the Series ends in November. I’m one of those people who always has the number of days until pitchers and catchers report (I also make it February 15th since it’s never more than a day or two off that each year). So, this morning as I read the paper I did the math: 102 days until pitchers and catchers report. Another two weeks until the exhibition season begins. And, if all goes well, I’ll get home from The Masters on April 12th and go to a ballgame the next day. And you wonder why people think I’m nuts.
         
-------------------------------------------------

I really enjoyed some of the posts and e-mails yesterday about favorite TV shows. Some of my favorites beyond ‘West Wing,’ came up—including ‘Hill Street Blues,’;  ‘Mash,’; WKRP in Cincinnati’ (where have you gone Bailey Quarters?) and ‘Seinfeld.’ Worth noting by the way that ‘The Wire,’ was written by a former newspaper guy. Some of those people DO have talent.

As I was reading the posts, I thought about another show I loved: “The Odd Couple,” with Tony Randall and Jack Klugman. It had the greatest ending of any show ever (Newhart was a strong second). Felix gets re-married to Gloria and the wedding is in the apartment. As Felix is leaving he and Oscar share a handshake and a sincere thanks. Felix points his finger and says, “You know what I’m going to do JUST for you?”—and he walks over and dumps a garbage can on the rug.

Oscar looks at him and says, ‘you know what buddy, just for you, I’M going to clean that up.”

Another warm handshake. Felix leaves. Oscar turns to look at the garbage for a moment, then waves his hand and says, “I’m not cleaning it up,” and leaves the room.

Great ending you think. About 10 seconds go by. Finally, the door opens. It’s Felix. He looks at the garbage and says, “I KNEW he wouldn’t clean it up.” He cleans it up. Truly fall down funny great ending.

Let’s hear what your favorite TV ending was.

The World Series – Stories of Covering the Royals ’85 Championship

The World Series begins tonight and I won’t be there because, to be honest, I just have too much work to get done to go. I might make it to Philadelphia this weekend if I can get a hall pass.

I’m like everyone else of my generation: I still remember running home from school as a kid to turn on the TV and watch The World Series when it was played in the afternoon. I didn’t do that in 1969 because the first two games in Baltimore were played over the weekend and then I WENT to the three games at Shea Stadium. Sat in the upper deck, which cost $2.50 for the Series—up from $1.30 during the regular season. Seriously.

It was baseball that made me a “celebrity,” for the first time in my life. I went to a tennis camp in that summer of ’69 and we would all sit around the TV in the commons room at night and watch The Mets. That’s where I watched Tom Seaver’s imperfect game on, I think it was July 8th. The sight of Jimmy Qualls hit landing between Tommie Agee and Cleon Jones with one out in the ninth is still burned in my brain.

While we’d watch, we would talk baseball. I was not one of the better tennis players in the camp by any means so not that many of the kids other than the ones on my hall or who I was playing against on the so-called, “ladder,” (I remember starting out 24th and working my way up to 6th) knew me. Then we started talking baseball. Without thinking I’d bring up things like Johnny Podres shutting out the Yankees in game seven in 1955 or Jackie Robinson first coming to the majors in 1947 or Babe Ruth pitching for the Red Sox in 1918. It was routine to me, stuff I’d read or heard. No big deal.

One morning at breakfast one of the counselors said, “Hey John who won the 1951 World Series?”

I shrugged. “The Yankees.”

“Who’d they beat?” Jeez, everyone knew that was the year Bobby Thompson hit the shot-heard-round-the world for the Giants to beat the Dodgers.

“Who’d he hit the home run off?”

“Ralph Branca, why?”

The counselor turned to the other counselor and said, “See I told you.”

Apparently, listening to me talk during the games we watched he had decided I was some kind of baseball savant. After that “stump John,” became a game. There was stuff I didn’t know, but I knew more than anyone else in the camp. I also knew the Mets roster by heart and could tell you that Ron Taylor was studying to be a doctor and that Jerry Koosman’s wife’s name was Lavonne. Didn’t everyone know that?

Ten years later I covered The World Series. That was the year that Jim Palmer screamed at me when he thought I’d asked him, “how do you feel?” after he lost game six when I was actually trying to softball him by asking “how DID you feel (on the mound) since he had pitched well in spite of losing.

I covered The World Series for The Post every year (except 1982 when I was covering politics and George Solomon was mad at me for turning down covering The Redskins to go do that) until I left the paper fulltime in 1988. And while my memories of 1986 are quite fond, the team I enjoyed the most during that run was the 1985 Kansas City Royals.

I was actually assigned to cover the Royals during the last week of the regular season when they were fighting the Angels for the American League West title. Right from the start, they had what we call a good clubhouse, a great one in fact. Dick Howser, the manager, was as nice a man as you’ll ever meet, full of good stories. George Brett was funny and always available and guys like Hal McRae and Frank White and a young Bret Saberhagen were also terrific. The best guy though was Dan Quisenberry, the superb closer. He was one of those guys who remembered your name the first time he met you and would walk across the clubhouse to say something like, “hey, I have a funny story for you if you’ve got a minute.”

The Royals won The West, then came from 3-1 down to beat The Toronto Blue Jays (managed by Bobby Cox) to win The American League pennant and THEN came from 3-1 down to beat the Cardinals (with an assist from Don Denkinger in game 6) to win The World Series.

One of my favorite moments of that Series came after game three. In those days, the morning shows tried to convince someone from one of the teams to come on each morning. They’d send a limo to get them to the studio and back. They would also send an attractive woman into the clubhouse to convince whatever player they wanted on the show that this was something he needed to do.

After game three one of these attractive women waited out the deadline guys around Brett and launched into her little speech. “I’ll meet you with the limo outside the hotel. We’ll have breakfast for you at the studio. Won’t you PLEASE do it?”

I was standing there and I can tell you for sure that I would have done it in a millisecond. I was not, however, George Brett.

Brett looked at her and smiled and said, “And what EXACTLY is in this for me?”

I thought the woman was going to faint for a moment. Apparently so did Brett. He laughed and said, “it’s fine. I’ll do it. I’m just teasing you.”

By the final weekend of that Series, I was a complete out-and-out Royals fan. The Cardinals clubhouse was as snarly as the Royals were friendly. I still remember Reggie Jackson, who was working The Series for ABC, trying to start a conversation with Vince Coleman--who had been injured by the men-eating tarp and wasn't playing. "Hey man, can't you see I'm too busy to talk to you?" Coleman said when Jackson tried to open a casual conversation. One thing about Coleman: he was consistent--ALWAYS a bad guy.

After Cesar Cedeno got a key hit to help win game one, he told the story about how he had been traded late in the season to the Cardinals. My memory is it involved the pitching coaches of the Reds and Cardinals (one of whom I think was Jim Kaat) having breakfast one morning after Jack Clark had gotten hurt and Kaat bringing up Cedeno’s name

“Whitey can tell you all the details,” Cedeno said, referring to manager Whitey Herzog.

I walked into Herzog’s office with Dave Anderson, the great Pulitzer Prize winning columnist from The New York Times to ask Herzog the story. When Dave asked Whitey to tell it, Herzog exploded, screaming profanities at Anderson because someone else had asked him to tell the story earlier. That’s the way it works at The Series, reporters come in waves and sometimes you are asked to repeat stories. Herzog, of all people knew that and he knew Anderson—one of the nicest men in journalism—from his days in New York. And his team had WON. Dave didn’t say a word; just turned around and walked out of the office.

Then there was John Tudor. He had been a revelation all year, winning 21 games and pitching superbly in postseason. After he pitched a four hit shutout in game four to put the Cardinals up 3-1 a lot of writers—surprise—wanted to write about him. Tudor walked to his locker, looked around and said, “what’s it take to get in here, a driver’s license? I already talked in the interview room.”

Yes he had, tersely describing what he’d thrown and when he’d thrown it. When a guy pitches a World Series shutout, columnists and sidebar writers are looking for more than that. Gordon Edes, one of the best baseball writers going, tried to explain that to Tudor.

“Great and now I have to talk to schmoes like this guy,” was Tudor’s response, turning his back on Edes.

When Tudor got bombed in game seven the no cheering in the press box rule was almost abandoned. Later, word came upstairs that he’d been so upset that he had possibly broken his hand, smashing it into a fan that was in the dugout ceiling. Which is when Barry Blume of The San Diego Tribune delivered one of the great press box lines ever. “Now, “he said, “the s--- really has hit the fan.”

Both Howser and Quisenberry died very young—cancer in both cases. They’re the first two people I think about when I think of those Royals. I also think about Quiz in the midst of the celebration, waving me over to his locker. “I got something for you,” he said. He reached into his locker and handed me a bottle of champagne. “We had fun having you cover us the last month,” he said as he handed it to me.

I know I should have handed it back but I didn’t. And I’m damn glad I resisted my ethical instincts at that moment. In those days, you could get a bottle of champagne on an airplane. I still have it and truly fond memories of Quiz, Howser and that whole team.