On The Force Or On The Tag: Part I

On The Force Or On The Tag is a 5-part series recounting my season as a volunteer baseball coach in a city league to which I had no prior affiliation. Along the way, I’ll connect my coaching experiences this season to memories from the four best coaches I had growing up. Kent Anderson, Tony Lang (my brother), Jay Rabeni (my brother-in-law), and Jeff Holm continue to influence how I approach my day and my life. They represent the best-case scenario of youth sports, from Little League to college. This is my thank you to them.

The names of the players, coaches, and family members from the team I coached have been changed. 

In the third year of Little League, our team changed from the Indians to the Red Sox. Kent Anderson is second from the right in the back row. I am first from the right in the front row.

We had the bases loaded, two outs, and down one run in the bottom of the 7th (the last inning in high school baseball rules). Mike, a utility player with a decent stick, was at the plate. In that moment, there was nothing I wanted more as a coach, as even a baseball fan, than for Mike to experience a walk-off hit.

I wanted him to square up the pitch and send a line drive into the outfield. The ballpark would pause in silence while that ball floated like a satellite. The infielders would only be able to turn, look up, and wait. Mike would be tracking the ball as he glided over first base, knowing that his run meant nothing in the last inning of a one-run game. The other base runners would be crouched, suspended between bases. The home plate umpire would stand up with his mask in his right hand as the blood delayed its return behind his knees. Parents would sit up straight. In that moment everyone, everything, waits for a baseball to skip across the outfield grass. Only then can chaos resume.

That’s the picture I held in my mind standing just outside the coach’s box on the third base side of the diamond as Mike started his at-bat.

There aren’t many feelings in this world as pure and good as that one. Looking up from Yosemite Valley for the first time, realizing you’ve met your future husband or wife, the first moment of parenthood, I assume – I’ll grant you these are bigger, more important feelings. But if we’re only measuring purity, then a walk-off hit is right up there with the best of them. I’ll put my next paycheck on it.

Leading up to Mike’s at bat, this particular game had the tempo of a dirge. No youth game, in any sport, for any reason, should take three hours. Each team had tried to lose several times by donating extra outs and base runners by way of walks, errors, and hit batsman. Goddamn, there is a surplus beanings in youth baseball.

We’d made three errors in the top half of the seventh inning alone – two of which were dropped fly balls with two outs and the bases loaded. The opposing pitcher then proceeded to hit two of our guys and walk two more, which brought us to Mike’s at bat with the tying run on third and the winning run on second.

Mike did not hit that line drive that makes the world pauses, but he did his job. He slapped a grounder between short and third. At the U-15 level, just putting the ball in play is a positive. The chances of a team fielding, throwing, and catching the ball can’t be higher than sixty percent. Maybe that’s not the case in club ball, but it sure was the case in this city youth league.

With two outs, the runners were moving on contact, so even the easiest play for the shortstop on a grounder to his right – the force at third –would be bang-bang, and the already close playwas made more chaotic by our baserunner’s aversion to sliding until the last possible moment.  He hurdled towards third like a puppy, awaiting my instructions on what to do.

What to do was obvious. Slide! “Down! Down! Down!” I shouted, waving both hands at the ground.

There was a bit of a pileup between the runner and the third baseman. They fell over the bag into foul territory at my feet, and the third baseman dropped the ball. He picked it up and tagged the runner for the third out of the inning. Game over. We lost, 11-12.

Most folks at Rickey Henderson Field were OK the game was over – the parents, the players, and certainly the awaiting men’s league teams, who had begun trickling onto the field, eager to get their game started. There I was confronting Glen, the umpire who also happened to be a league coordinator and senior division all-star coach.

You, reader, ought to know a couple details before we dig into the argument that is about to unfold:

  1. I may have also given Glen a little business on another bad call at third base earlier in the game.
  2. Our team is undefeated at the time. It’s not everything, but a chance at perfection, no matter how minor, has value. It counts.
  3. It’s a safe bet my recollection of the conversation with Glen has me sound more succinct and stern, and generally quickeron my feet than how it actually played out. I’ll cop to that up front, but that’s the perk of my narrating the story.

“How is he out?” I asked.

“He’s out. Now don’t.”


“Come on!”

Both hands are on my hips at this point. “Was he out on the force, or was he out on the tag?”

“He’s out.”

“Third base dropped the ball, Glen. If he’s out on the force, then you’re telling me third base dropped the ball after the play was over.”

The ump shook his head and tried to cut me off. He’d just umpired a three-hour youth game. He was done. I was not.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on. I’m just asking, because if he’s out on the tag after third base dropped the ball, then the force is no longer in effect. He did drop the ball, which is why he tagged my guy. If the force is no longer in play, then the lead runner crossing home plate before the out is recorded counts, and we have a tie ball game.”

I took a breath. “So was it on the force or the tag?”

He stared through me for a moment. “I didn’t see the dropped ball, OK. If you want, I can ask the base ump.”

Players were already packing up and walking off the field to their parents behind the backstop. The paunchy men’s leaguers with too many armbands were already playing catch in the outfield and trying to avoid the inevitable hamstring tweak by jogging across the outfield. There was zero chance I was going to ask the base ump, who I think was maybe fifteen, to weigh in and overturn a call that would restart the game. Did I mention we’d been playing for three hours? We didn’t deserve to win if we left it up to one call on a messy, weird play. I was already late for a going-away-party anyway.

Months later, I think about why I kept on the umpire? Of course I wanted to win the game. More than that, I wanted Mike to know the feeling of a walk-off hit, and that moment was over – impossible to get back – whether or not the game should have been. As a consolation, or perhaps a consequence, I wanted the ump to at least know he was wrong.

The truth is I’d already won. I’d spent the morning coaching a baseball team for the first time in 14 years.  It’s the best.


Before we proceed, you should know a few things about baseball and me.

Baseball is the first love that I discovered. I didn’t come from a “baseball family”. Nothing was expected of me within the context of baseball. I found the game, and I loved the game. Simple as that.

There are more moments of perfection in baseball than anything else I’ve come across in my life. That was the case when I was ten, and it remains true. The numb inertia of turning on an inside fastball. The sting of a scab rolling up your elbow on a headfirst slide into second. The smell of pine tar. The lethargic game of catch in shallow outfield before game two of a double-header. The heat and the dust and the smell of cut grass and the distant cigar all swirl around you like a spirit.

The game was everything to me until I accepted I wasn’t enough for it to be everything. I was still a teenager when I knew I was a college baseball player at best. Fast enough, big enough, powerful enough, quick enough. They all matter, and I didn’t possess enough of any of them, but ninety-five percent of baseball is about quickness. Power without quickness is easily neutralized. Speed without quickness doesn’t factor in too much in a game where bases are only 90 feet apart and the ball is always faster than the player. Size without speed, power, or quickness is just someone playing the wrong sport.

I was quick enough defensively, but as a hitter I couldn’t convince my body to wait for my mind to recognize the slider is actually darting eight inches outside of the strike zone. I couldn’t hold off from making an ugly, lunging swing off my front foot. Worse yet, I had just enough hand-eye coordination to put that pitcher’s pitch in play as a weak grounder to second base.

What followed college was a decade when I stashed baseball away like crumpled mementos of relationships past. The metaphor between baseball and life was cliché, and so were the lessons therein. The twenties version of me figured it was time to grow up. Gone was the kid with pictures of Kirby Puckett carefully torn from Sports Illustrated and taped to my bedroom walls.

I was busy writing a (bad) novel. I was playing in a (inexperienced) band. I was a young Minnesota dude living in San Francisco, dammit. There were women to meet, places to be, a life to live that would impress folks back home over the holidays. Baseball wasn’t in the script for this California odyssey.

I was a little up my own ass in my twenties, in case you hadn’t noticed. Me and a good chunk of you readers, but that’s ok.

Photographer most likely Amy Hansen.

From a catcher for the Minnesota Twins to the author of the next great American novel or – because I didn’t want to limit myself as merely the next great American novelist – the next Dylan. I had traded in one cliché aspiration for two somehow less likely clichéd aspirations. Turns out, that is not a terrible approach to enjoy your twenties.

I’m 36 now, and not long ago I came back to baseball. You grow up, and if you’ve lived a charmed life like I have, you are allowed to come full circle. You have the luxury to believe that the kid with Kirby Puckett pictures taped to the wall didn’t vanish after all, even when you realize that Puckett was just some flawed dude that was really good at a game and really bad to women.

Baseball remains the activity I have spent the most time doing in my life, the subject about which I know the most, and the “trade” in which I achieved the highest level of proficiency. But these are not good enough reason to come back to a childhood passion. The real gold lies in the lessons from the game. They translate to everything. This is not revelatory but for the fact that it’s actually not a bullshit line from a youth league registration pamphlet.

Kent Anderson’s Little League mantra – every ball’s coming to me, know what I’m going to do with it – remains the best professional, financial, relationship, and baseball advice I’ve ever come across.


Kent Anderson (left) popping the collar and John Traeger (right). Photo courtesy of Jay Kurtis. 

Kent, Tony, Jay, and Coach – I would not feel the way I do about baseball if it were not for these men. I got lucky with great coaches at pretty much every phase of my baseball life. From Little League through college, I had mentors that knew the game, could communicate the game, and fed my passion. In large part, they are the reason I think about baseball metaphors and axioms when I’m in a conference room listening to fluorescent lights buzz.

That said, I cannot gloss over the other implied truth. I also love the game because I didn’t suck at it when I was eight. More importantly, I was recognized as having some ability, and that recognition at an early age is everything. Think about how many of our interests or lifelong pursuits are launched by an early recognition of ability. A fourth grade teacher says a kid with low self-esteem has a knack for math. A music teacher tells a new trumpet player she has excellent tone. A baseball coach sees some raw talent in a swing and doesn’t over-coach.

There are thousands, if not millions, of solid Little Leaguers who never sniff high school ball, but there aren’t many kids who were terrible in Little League that stuck it out and became a varsity starter. A player must experience some success and recognition early on – even if it’s just one person who sees it – for even the hope of playing high school baseball.

Kent was the first coach to see it in me. We had a catch behind the batting cages at Bruce Russell field on Roselawn Avenue in Roseville, Minnesota. I was there with what felt like hundreds of other kids trying out for the Majors division, the competitive 6-team league for kids between ten and twelve years old. It being April in Minnesota, I remember it being grey and wet and blowing on my fingers to get some grip and circulation. And I remember the lines.

There were lines of kids strewn about the field – one wrapping around the batting cage, another in left field waiting on dads to hit decent fly balls so the kids could track down a deep one, spin, and throw a strike to the cut-off man. There was a line at shortstop for coaches to get a look at how kids fielded a grounder. Three pop-ups, three grounders, and ten swings in a batting cage. Sixteen opportunities to determine if you were one of the two dozen kids picked to play in the good league with real jerseys, a grass infield and a snack shack; if not, your destiny was all-dirt infields and t-shirt jerseys. Such is life.

What if the guy running the pitching machine spent six pitches adjusting the location during your turn? What if you got a bad hop fielding grounders? There is a fair amount of chance when you’re dealing with a sample size as small as a Little League tryout.

But there’s little left to chance in playing catch, a fact I’m sure wasn’t lost on Kent when he asked me to have a catch behind the batting cage. I’d guess we threw for five minutes. He asked me…hell, I don’t know what he asked me; I was excited. The coach of the best team in the league – the younger, non-dad coach who drove a red BMW convertible – was playing a real game of catch with me. He wasn’t looping them into me – he was throwing left-handed darts. I was catching with two hands, moving my feet, focusing on the center of his chest and trying to make the perfect throw on a line every time.  Kent was a lanky guy with a big frame surrounding his floppy glove. It was impossible to miss his target.

Kent drafted me to play on the Indians, which became the Red Sox when folks spoke up about the name. Kent and John Traeger’s team should’ve been the Yankees, as the Indians dominated the league for the better part of two decades. I am almost certain Kent and Traeger drafted me in part as result of that catch with Kent. It’s plain to me now why it was as important as any other part of the tryout.

When you play catch—the most fundamental component of the game—you can make all of the important assessments about a ten year-old’s ability to play and improve. How do the feet move? What’s the attention to detail and the ability to focus? Is the throwing motion natural? Does the kid catch the ballor stop the ball with his glove?  Is there a semblance of eagerness, of urgency? All of these questions can by answered just by playing catch with a kid.

You can coach a kid up in a lot of ways. You can teach him how to stay down on a grounder and throw a slurve. You can even teach hitting to a certain extent. But you can’t teach a kid to throw, and you can’t coach someone into caring about a game of catch.

Kent and Traeger’s Retirement Party invite from my mom and Kathy Kurtis. Note the lack of area codes on the phone numbers. A combined 55 years of coaching Little League. 

Kent coached Little League for eighteen years. His most reliable tools were simplicity, repetition, and clarity. In his quiet, stoic demeanor, he expected us to succeed and then we expected to succeed, and then—guess what—we succeeded. For a ten year-old to have that mindset rewarded with tangible results is a positive experience not easily forgotten. In my case, that mindset was rewarded time and time again throughout my baseball life. It’s no longer just a memory about making a great play or getting a clutch hit as a kid. That Little League lesson has come to define how I approach my day, my life.

My expectations haven’t changed since I was ten. I expect to succeed, for good things to happen to me. It’s astounding when I pause to think about it.

Twenty-six years later, I want Mike to know that same feeling. That’s why it matters if the runner at third was out on the force or on the tag. – PAL 

Photo c/o Jay Kurtis (third from the left, and one hell of a shortstop). I am the short kid next to Jay. I played outfield when I was ten and eleven. After that, it was only the tools of ignorance for me. 




Week of July 27, 2018

Dustin Johnson knows the pecking order in his family. 

The Best Game I Ever Watched

Jack Morris is getting inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame this week, and it’s about time. It’s also a great excuse to revisit his legendary performance in Game 7 of the 1991 World Series by way of Dan Haye’s oral history of the event over on The Athletic. I will be adding a lot of bits from the story and sprinkle in some commentary since people that aren’t subscribers can’t click on the story.

To the uninitiated, let me start by telling you that Jack was a bad man in the 80s and 90s. He won more games in the 80s than any other pitcher. He has 3 World Series rings – ‘84 with the Tigers, ‘91 with the Twins, and ‘92 with the Blue Jays. The guy had a great, long career, but he’s remembered for Game 7 of the Twins-Braves classic. Morris went 10 innings in a complete game shutout and the Twins won 1-0 on a Gene Larkin “single” (the outfield was playing in and his medium-deep fly ball fell over their heads).

As Hayes puts it, “To this day, the Smoltz-Morris showdown is considered one of the greatest Game 7s in World Series history. Though only one run crossed home plate at the Metrodome on Oct. 27, 1991, the contest was teeming with dramatic moments and volatile momentum swings.”

Morris: I went to the bullpen and threw longer than most guys. I would throw 20 minutes in my warmup and throw 60, 70 pitches. I always wanted to go longer because I’d rather be tired than too fresh. My control wasn’t as good as when I was fresh and that helped me get over that adrenaline rush.

PAL: 60-70 pitches? That is insane to me. Then he went out and threw another 127 pitches. Include the warm-ups between innings and Morris threw way over 200 pitches that night.

Braves starting pitcher John Smoltz (PAL: a young stud at the time): You know it’s going to be the loudest place you’ve ever been in because of the dome and Game 7. The walkup to any start is usually pretty unique on its own. I had previously pitched in Game 7 in Pittsburgh (in the NLCS). I had faced it already, had faced that kind of hostile crowd, walked to the bullpen. This (bullpen) was on the side of the stands, so you’re really in the open space. I really vividly remember. Couldn’t wait for it. Wanted it. Dreamt about it. But then seeing (7-year-old Jacqueline Jaquez sing the national anthem), I turned to Leo and said, ‘If she can do that, I can do this.’ It lived up to all the expectations I had as a kid, the hype.

Twins catcher Brian Harper: A lot of the game plan when Jack was pitching was how Jack was pitching when he was on. The biggest thing for Jack when he had his angle on his fastball, when he was throwing downhill, it was pretty much over for the other guys. You could tell right away that he was locked in and he had really good angle and a really good fastball. He was working on three days’ rest for a third straight time, but he was locked in right from the get-go.

Twins bench player Gene Larkin: Smoltz was dominating. There’s no other word. Both pitchers were dominating. In a certain amount of respect, Smoltz was dominating earlier in the game than Jack was.

Kent Hrbek: In the playoffs, all the pitchers are good. They were all good against me because I couldn’t hit my ass with both hands. So much gets talked about Jack being so good that you don’t think about the job (Smoltz) did. He stuck it up our butt as Jack did with them. Not too many talk about his performance, which was as good as Jack’s.

5th Inning

With runners on the corners and two outs in the fifth inning, Morris throws a forkball in the dirt. Harper doesn’t block it as much as it bounces off of him and rolls out between home and the mound. Lemke at third comes halfway down the line and barely gets back to third on a nice play by Morris. Then Morris strikes out Ron Gant on a called third strike and does…whatever this is:

Braves infielder (PAL: and complete pest the entire series) Mark Lemke: We couldn’t ask for anything more. It’s just Jack put the pitch right where he wanted it. My goodness. I remember the fist pump. I said, ‘Oh boy. He’s stealing it.’

6th Inning:

As CBS went to break, play-by-play announcer Jack Buck said, “Folks, this game is gonna be decided late … isn’t it?”

Smoltz: Luckily, we played in the era we did because you could see matchups like this. You’re not going to see them ever again. This is what we were supposed to do as pitchers. If your stuff was good enough, you didn’t have anybody even close to coming in the game. At the end of the year it’s a little different story, too. You’ve pitched your 240, 250 innings. You’re at the max and you just know and you were prepared. You were mentally prepared to do this. There was not a fatigue factor you allowed to enter your mind.

8th Inning – The Deke

Morris: Lonnie wasn’t deked on the play. He was off to second base and when he looked up he couldn’t find the ball. He looked over at the third-base coach and he was still watching the ball and didn’t get a sign. So he’s wondering if the ball is popped up and has to slow down before second base. That’s all it took for him not to score.

Harper: The real deke was Dan Gladden acting like he was going to catch it. And in Lonnie Smith’s defense, with no outs you don’t even take a gamble of being thrown out at home plate. With Lonnie Smith and (third-base coach) Jimmy Williams, with no outs you’re going to be super cautious. It was running the bases the right way. If there was one out you’d gamble a little bit more. I think Gladden deked him that he was going to catch it and the ball hit the wall and he got it in real quick. It was a good play. It looked on the film like the infielders deked him, but Lonnie said he was looking right at Gladden acting like he was going to catch it.

Braves bullpen coach Ned Yost: Lonnie Smith got on. Terry Pendleton did a hit-and-run and Lonnie got deked a little at second. That would have been the run that scored if he hadn’t of hesitated. Ended up second and third and nobody out. I think, ‘OK, we’ve got Ronnie Gant, David Justice and Sid Bream coming up. We’re going to score a run here. Here we go.’

The Twins walked Justice, and Sid Bream hits into the huge double-play the Twins were hoping for, 3-2-3.

Hrbek: I knew where I was going. I wanted the ball. That’s why I was playing in. Knew what I was going to do. There was already a conversation between myself and Harper that I was coming home. We did it a million times in spring training the last 10 years. You practice that play just because it might happen at some time or another. I was prepared and ready. A lot of times guys aren’t prepared and ready, they don’t know which way to go. I knew what I was going to do with it before it was hit to me.

Harper: We got the rare 3-2-3 double play. I’ll tell you what, there were some nerves making that throw to first base. You’ve got the runner kind of in the line. You’ve got to make sure you’re out of the way. You’ve got the runner from third coming at you and he’s trying to hit you as he slides and so you’re trying to get rid of it. The first baseman is moving toward first. My whole thought process was, ‘Don’t screw up.’

The Twins come up in the bottom half of the inning and threaten as well. They too were undone an unconventional, unassisted double-play.

Twins reliever Carl Willis: I remember how ecstatic we all were (in the bullpen) and then in the bottom of the eighth inning, we had the bases loaded and one out, and we were thinking, ‘Hey, we’re going to do it. We’re going to win this thing.’ And the same thing happened (to us). They ended up getting out of it. We went from low to high back to low. It was the craziest inning, emotionally, I can ever remember of any game.

Bottom of the 9th (all of this is pulled directly from the story)

With nine innings in the books for Morris, Kelly was preparing to turn the game over to ace closer Rick Aguilera in the 10th.

Harper: There was at no point until the ninth that TK was going to take out Jack. Jack got us out of the ninth inning and Tom Kelly walked up to him and said, ‘Great job, we’re going to bring Aggie in to pitch the 10th.’ And I’m sitting in my catcher’s gear watching this and going, this is going to be really interesting how it gets handled. Jack’s like, ‘I’m not coming out. I’m not coming out.’ TK’s going, ‘Hey, 120 pitches, three days’ rest, Jack, unbelievable job. We’ve got Aggie warmed up. He’s coming in.’ Jack sat there and said, ‘I’m not coming out of the game. I’m not coming out.’ He said a few other choice words.

Mazzone: Good luck with that.

Bush: Literally in exasperation, Tom Kelly turned to (pitching coach) Dick Such and said, ‘Tell him he’s done, Suchy. Tell him he’s done.’ Suchy with the great line said, ‘He’s going pretty good, Skip.’

Kelly: That’s true.

Harper: Tom Kelly walks down kind of toward the middle of the dugout where Jack is and he looks at Jack and says, ‘Go get him, big guy. Go get him,’ and walked away.

PAL: How good is that? I love the pitching coach breaking ranks. It’s like a scene out of a movie.

TOB: I literally LOL’d at that one. Also, I mean it worked out – but I must point out that the “You’re not taking me out” is a really selfish move. If he blows it in the 10th because he wanted to finish the game, he’s a bad teammate who cost his team the World Series. It’s also an interesting move because, if the Twins don’t score in the 10th…how long did would he insist on pitching?

The 10th Inning

PAL: Morris retires the side in eight pitches. M-effing eight pitches.

TOB: I guess he was going pretty good.

PAL: The Twins get a lead-off, hustle double from Gladden. Knobluach finally gets Twins bunt down, and the Braves walk Puckett and Hrbek to load the bases with one out. The twins send pinch-hitter Gene Larkin to the plate.

Larkin: When TK (manager Tom Kelly) called my name out, I was as nervous as a human being can be in an athletic situation from the on-deck circle to the batter’s box, my knees were shaking. People were standing in the stands just going nuts. The moment hits you right there that you can help your team win Game 7 of the World Series or if you don’t get the job done you’re going to feel bad. If your team doesn’t win because of that, you’re going to feel bad about that for the rest of your life. Whether people believe that or not, that’s in your mind that if you had just driven in that run, we would have won the game.

Hrbek: All I was kept thinking about was if there was a ball hit to the outfield don’t get caught up running the bases. Make sure you go back and tag. But if you look, you’ll see, Puck doesn’t go back and tag. Puck is running around the bases. The guy could have caught the ball and threw Puck out at second base. He was way off the base. That was my thought was, ‘If there’s a play at the plate, I better be sure I’m tagging up. Watch out for the line drive. Don’t get too far off because my run is not important. Don’t get picked off. Stay here as close as I can. But if it’s a double-play ball, I’ve got to get down there as fast as I can.’ There was a lot of things going through my head other than what Geno was going to do.

Larkin waists no time. He gets a fastball up and sends it over Brian Hunter’s head in left field. Twins Win, 1-0.

3rd Base Coach Ron Gardenhire: I did one of those dumb baseball moves where instead of going down the line with Gladden and being in all the pictures I ran over to the commissioner to shake his hand. The commissioner and I had been having a conversation back and forth from his seats.

Gladden: After the celebration, Wayne Terwilliger and I went up in the training room and grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a six-pack of beer and turned on the TVs and watched the celebration. I was so tired.

Leo Mazzone (Braves pitching coach): At the end, I didn’t feel like crap. I was just a part of one of the greatest World Series in the history of baseball. Sure, you have that immediate emotion of losing. But once you sit back and think about it a little, you’re proud to be a part of it.

Morris: My son was crying and I was worried if someone had knocked him down (during the celebration). I asked him why and he said, ‘Dad, that was so cool.’ It was so amazing to share something so personal with him.

PAL: After reading this I realized that moments from this series have mashed together, and it’s hard to separate the less iconic plays, e.g., the 3-2-3 double play ball, game by game. I just remember being so damn happy. That is my team. Specifically, that 1991 roster are the players and coaches I picture when I think of a baseball team.

Source:An oral history of Game 7 of the 1991 World Series: The night Jack Morris was unbeatable”, Dan Hayes, The Athletic Ink (7/25/18)

TOB: While Kirk Gibson’s home run is my earliest baseball memory, and I watched the Giants’ run through the ’89 NLCS and into the World Series, the 1991 World Series is I think when baseball really got its claws into me. It was such a visual and audible spectacle – Minnesota with the white hankies whipping around, and the insane noise. Atlanta with the tomahawk chop and chant. It was mesmerizing.

I’ll never forget this game because I didn’t even get to see the end. Late in the game, my parents made me go to bed. Not wanting to miss the end, I managed to find the game on the radio of my alarm clock. I pulled the covers over my head and the radio to muffle the noise, and I drifted off to sleep, I believe, before the game ended. I woke up in the morning to music still playing, having incorporated the song that was playing into my dream.

Sports & Flags

This story is as powerful as anything I’ve read this year.

Awhile back, Natalie and I were walking Max the Dog up in the fancy Piedmont neighborhood (we call it the Fantasy Tour), and one of us commented on the the American flags waving outside some of the mansions. Natalie wasn’t a fan. I didn’t mind it, noting that what makes America great to me isn’t the same as what might make it great to someone else, and I won’t acquiesce the symbolism of the flag. Patriotism is apolitical. I got where she was coming from, and that conversation has stuck with me over the past 19 months or so.

Every sporting event presents a challenge in this regard. The flag genuflection is disingenuous. We didn’t always have flags the size of football fields, and camo jerseys haven’t always been a thing. This all came in the wake of 9/11, and Howard Bryant’s segment on WBUR (Boston Public Radio) is a sobering look at commercialized patriotism from the perspective of veterans who are sick of it. You must read the story, but here some of the most compelling bits:

Retired Air Force lieutenant colonel Bill Astore on flyovers:

I think, at first, there’s a sort of thrilling feeling. I’m like all the other fans: a big plane goes overhead — ‘Wow!’ That’s kind of awe inspiring. But at the same time, to me, it’s not something that I see should be flying over a sports stadium before a baseball game or a football game. You know, these are weapons of death. They may be required, but they certainly shouldn’t be celebrated and applauded.

Some of you know this (I know we’ve written about it), but it’s worth repeating: We are paying sports teams for all that celebration of America.

…[T]axpayer-funded contracts between the Pentagon and virtually every pro sports league. In 2012, the New York Army National Guard paid the Buffalo Bills $250,000 to conduct on-field re-enlistment ceremonies. In 2014, the Georgia National Guard paid the Atlanta Falcons $114,000 to sing the national anthem. In 2015, the Air Force paid NASCAR $1.5 million in part for veterans to shake hands with racing legend Richard Petty. Your tax dollars. At work.

In one simple sentence, Astore crystallizes a major issue I have with the choreography of it all. “Patriotic displays, they mean a lot more to me when they’re spontaneous,” he says. Exactly.

Nick Francona, son of Indians manager Terry Francona and grandson of Tito Francona, enlisted in the Marines while a student at Penn. He saw a baseball friend of his leading a life of meaning while Nick was playing online poker and hitting the bars. Before he was even deployed, the Red Sox – the team for which his dad managed – wanted to make the manager’s son a military hero.

“They were having Marine Week in Boston, and it was a pretty big deal,” Nick says. “They had wanted me to throw out the first pitch at Fenway during one of the games. It would’ve been a good story of having the manager’s son being a Marine and throwing out a first pitch at Fenway. But I was horribly uncomfortable with that and didn’t think I had done anything to deserve that and gave them a firm pass on that one.”

MLB is happy to sell a camo hat for $40, but guess how many vets make up the league’s 5,000 employees are vets? 10.

Where do sports go from here? I asked one baseball executive, who told me his sport promotes the military not out of patriotism but out of fear — the fear of being called unpatriotic.

The fear of seeming unpatriotic…that right there is a weapon that buries us. It ain’t a bomber or a fighter jet. – PAL

Source: Veterans Speak Out Against The Militarization Of Sports”, Howard Bryant, WBUR (7/21/18)

TOB: It’s just so gross, especially coming from the side of the political spectrum who claim to advocate for small government. *ZAP* Sorry, sorry. Anyways, another story told by Nick Francona shows just how contemptible this whole thing is:

Working with the Mets, one moment defined his frustrations. He created a Memorial Day program where he matched players with Gold Star families from similar backgrounds. The players recorded videos that told the stories of the fallen.

Players, he says, were emotional learning the stories of the dead soldiers from America’s wars. They wore bracelets naming soldiers they were matched with. It was authentic and personal, appropriately respectful of a day commemorating sacrifice.

“So I’m on the flight back, and I get an email from someone with the Mets asking, like, ‘Oh, great job. Now we need to get all the families to sign these waivers, to waive the rights as licensees for the bracelets that these guys wore.’ And I’m, like, ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa, we’re not … like, absolutely not.’

“They referred to them as ‘license holders.’ The families. And I’m, like, ‘I think you mean parent of dead Marine or soldier.’ Patently offensive. And there was no way I was going to have them sign that and refused to do so. I wanted to know exactly whose bright idea this was and was going to give them a piece of my mind. And that ended it pretty quickly. And the next day was my last day there.

“They called me in and said, ‘You’ve done a great job here, really had a huge impact. You’ve also had a big impact on the veteran stuff with Major League Baseball, but your comments aren’t compatible with having a career in baseball. So we’re going to have to part ways.’ “

The Mets fired him. Nick Francona is now out of baseball.


Why Do Women Subject Themselves to Co-Ed Sports?

This is a really good article on the problems women face playing adult co-ed sports, which are very popular in the age 20-30 demographic. In my late 20s, I played a few seasons in a co-ed basketball league here in the city. It was fun! I also liked to go watch my now-wife play in her co-ed soccer league. She had fun! But both experiences also gave me a first-hand look at the issues women face when playing sports with men. I mostly enjoyed playing in co-ed leagues. As opposed to men’s leagues, the presence of women seemed to tone down the guys’ aggression. It was still competitive, but you saw a lot less arguing and near-fighting than you do in men’s leagues.

But there were problems, too. As this article discusses, some guys didn’t want to pass to the women, which of course was frustrating. More than once I had the women on our team come to me, as team manager, and complain that they weren’t getting the ball enough. And they were right (this was especially frustrating to me because two of the women on our team had played college basketball, and were really frigging good). When I’d watch my wife’s soccer games, she would often be wide open with a chance at goal, and the guys wouldn’t even look her way. Instead, they’d either try (and fail) to take on the entire defense themselves, or try (and fail) to make a difficult pass to a covered male teammate. I would get very frustrated for her, and more than once tried to help her find an all-women’s league.

Most co-ed sports leagues have a requirement for a certain number of women to be on the court/field at all times. This makes sense, sadly, as many men would otherwise leave them on the bench. Some leagues even instituted rules to get men to pass to women more – for example, a goal by a woman counts as 2 points. But as the article discusses, this kind of treatment makes many women feel like a handicap. Another issue facing women is that some men are overaggressive idiots and they plow into the women, injuring them. Other times, the men get angry and fight each other, creating a toxic environment for everyone.

The article discusses how the numbers are dropping, in part due to these problems. Men outnumber women in these leagues 2-to-1, and women are less likely to show up to games, and more likely to leave leagues completely, and considers why. And her answer: “Women don’t play co-ed intramural sports because it’s not fun for us. In fact, it sucks.”

And it makes sense. Why subject yourself to that kind of treatment? I did end up finding my wife a women’s league. And I think women playing co-ed should band together and form their own women’s leagues. In my estimation, many men play co-ed simply because they don’t have enough men to form a team of only men. They use women to fill out the roster, in their view, as a necessary evil. As the author says, “Co-ed social sports leagues aren’t really co-ed. They’re men’s leagues, where women are required to be present for the game to happen.” So screw ’em, ladies. -TOB

Source: Why Co-Ed Sports Leagues Are Never Really Co-Ed“, Catherine LeClair, Deadspin (07/25/2018)

Video of the Week: 

Tweet of the Week

PAL Song of the Week: Ray Davies – “Waterloo Sunset”

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Yeah, Serenity by Jan is kicking ass and taking names. You remember last week when that girl went missing? Guess whose candles they used for the vigil?

-Jan Levinson

Week of June 8, 2018

Bandwagon fans of the Vegas Knights. Photo: Cody Glenn

Time For A New Bat (Says USA Baseball)

Photo: Lauren Justice

Briefly: A relatable story about the cost of youth sports. Baseball and softball equipment represents a major revenue stream (hundreds of millions of dollars annually), so when U.S.A. Baseball institutes new bat rules that cause a bunch of people to go out and buy new bats, people get a bit skeptical. 

Few things got me more excited than getting a new bat when I was a kid. In a new bat held the promise of a magical breakthrough. A .400 season. Maybe more than a couple home runs on the right field and right conditions (read: short porch in right and a nice breeze blowing out). I believed in the “pop” of a new bat, and I would be giddy with the slightest variation of sound the ball made off a slightly different surface. I loved it.

By the age of 13, I was going through a new bat every year. I want to say the price was somewhere between $120 and $250 from ages 13-18. I was lucky. It was never a question of whether or not my parents could afford a new bat. I think I can say the same for the kids on my teams, too. We know this is not true for everyone. Hell, it’s probably not true for most.

Baseball is an expensive youth sport, which is why newly mandated standards for youth baseball bats have been met with skepticism and frustration. Surprisingly, this mandate wasn’t in the name of safety; rather, it was done for competitive balance. Some parents are a bit skeptical about that rationale. Even though the change was announced three years ago (from what I can gather, the rules took effect this year), the more affordable bat options are in short supply.

It’s foolish to believe this is only about competitive balance. As James Card and Joe Drape highlight, baseball and softball equipment is big business.

The sale of baseball and softball equipment is big business: It yielded $636 million in revenue in 2017, according to the National Sporting Goods Association, with bats accounting for almost a third of that figure — nearly $208 million. But many of those bats, and millions more bought in earlier years, are no longer legal to use in games.

With one rule change, U.S.A Baseball just forced most people’s hand to buy a new stick.

However, this is a case where multiple truths exist. Does it help with competitive balance? Sure. Is is safer? Limiting the “trampoline effect” is a good idea. Does the rule also happen to send teams and parents running to the sporting goods store, whether their kids “needed” a new bat or not. It does that as well.

I can understand the frustration on the parents’ part, but they were going to be replacing those bats within a year or two anyway. 

Kids grow out of bats just like kids grow out of skates, basketball shoes, helmets, golf clubs, etc. Different ages have different rules about the length-to-weight difference and the barrel size.

Bats don’t have an infinite shelf life. Bats flatten, bats crack, bats lose pop. They aren’t indestructible. In fact, I think nearly every one of my bats cracked between 13-18. My parents’ have a laundry bin full of them in the basement.

For what it’s worth, I like intention of getting back closer to a wood bat game, and the new bats – although not wood – provide a something closer to that hitting experience. I’m down with just about any idea that reduces the number of  20-18 youth games. – PAL

Source: New Rules for Bats Leave Youth Baseball Parents With the Bill”, James Card & Joe Drape, The New York Times (6/4/18)

TOB: A lot of things about this story confused me. Most of all this line:

“Although U.S.A. Baseball said improved safety did not play any part in the change….”

Huh? Why is USA Baseball running away from the safety aspect of this? A quick search reveals that 3-4 kids die every year playing baseball – most from brain injuries. You’d think pointing out that the new bats will make it less likely that a child will die would be a good thing.

And this:

Even though U.S.A. Baseball announced the change three years ago, neither parents nor sporting goods professionals were properly prepared. Chris Brugge, a manufacturing representative for Easton in the Midwest, said the company quadrupled its inventory but still underestimated the demand.

If this change was announced three years ago and not implemented until this year, how were the bat manufacturers not prepared?

Also, if your kid is 12, don’t spend $400 on a bat and then complain that your budget is busted. Here’s a rule of thumb: If your budget is such that buying one bat at a given price is ok, but having to buy a second bat for the same price would bust your budget, that bat is too expensive. Buying a $400 bat was a poor decision! If you really want to improve your kid’s baseball performance, you’re better off buying a cheap bat and putting the money you saved toward a couple sessions with a private hitting coach. As Brian Duryea, the founder of Bat Digest said in the story, “A $400 bat doesn’t fix a $4 swing. Nothing compensates for good old-fashioned practice.”

Stories from Alcatraz

Briefly: Here are some cool backstories from a varied group of competitors in last weekends Escape From Alcatraz triathlon. 

There are a lot of triathlons in the spring and summer, but there’s only one Alcatraz, and that is why people come from far and wide to compete in what some call the best triathlon in the world.

The route is iconic – not many races start by jumping off of a boat near an old prison – and a gut buster, too. The tides are no picnic on the swim, the bike ride is hilly, and the run includes heading up the 400-step sand ladder at Baker Beach (I’ve run it, and it’s just as terrible as it sounds).

As is the case with any race, the good stuff comes in the form of people’s stories to get to the race:

  • Kayye Romm, 18, North Carolina: She’d been dreaming and waiting until she turned 18 to compete. The incoming Pepperdine freshman swimmer has wanted to compete in the race ever since her dad completed it.
  • Kevin Collington finished 6th amongst the men, but he was more excited about his 64-year old mom’s first time partaking
  • Leslie Lewis, 47, of Austin, Texas competed in her first Escape. She’s been knocking off a lot of firsts recently, including earning her college degree, learning bass guitar and joining a band, and competing in her first triathlon.

That’s the good stuff, folks. – PAL

Source: Hundreds in SF grind out miles in ‘best triathlon in the world’”, Sarah Ravani, SF Chronicle (6/4/18)

Even The Construct of Time Didn’t Want The Caps to Win

Briefly: As the Washington Capitals looked to win D.C.’s first championship in 26 years, the goddamn game clock broke…in the third period!

There’s not much more to it, the clock friggin broke in the final minutes of Stanley Cup clinching game with the score 4-3. I can’t imagine being a Caps fan watching this:

Is the N.H.L. ready for a clock malfunction, you ask. In fact, yes they are:

There was one and only one person in the world who knew during the entire stretch how much time was actually left: the official Game Timekeeper, classified as an an NHL official and sitting along the glass. An entire rule, Rule 34, explains the timekeeper’s job, which, the vast majority of time, consists of two practicalities: helping TV producers sync with the electronic time, and telling the PA announcer to announce one minute remaining in the period.

But sometimes—sometimes with under two minutes remaining in the deciding game of the Stanley Cup finals!—the timekeeper becomes the hero. Rule 34 stipulates that in addition to the electronic timer, the timekeeper uses a “league-approved stopwatch.” That stopwatch was the only thing standing between last night’s game and total anarchy.

(Another fun rule I just learned; in a situation like last night’s when the electronic clock fails, or if the in-arena sound system goes down, it’s the timekeeper’s responsibility to alert players and officials to the end of a period or a game by blowing a whistle. I bet timekeepers spend their entire lives hoping to blow their whistles just once!)

The timekeeper and other officials thought quickly when technical disaster struck last night, and you can see their fast work on the CBC bug. The scoreboard operator reset the in-arena clock to 1:00 and held it there, and when the timekeeper alerted the PA announcer to announce one minute remaining in the game, the clock operator started time counting down again. It wasn’t precise—you can see little hiccups in the time over the next 10-20 seconds as it re-synced—but it was pretty damn close. Impressive work on everybody’s part.

And did any of this calm the nerves of Caps fans in the moment? Absolutely not. – PAL

Source: The Game clock Broke In Vegas And Caused Total Chaos“, Barry Petchesky, Deadpan (6/8/18)

TOB: I watched this live, and my wife, who was patiently waiting for the end so she could watch the Bachelorette, can attest to the fact that my reactions were very much like Petchesky’s:

The clock jumps from 1:49 to 15:19 (my realtime reaction: “Uhh…”), ticks a second off, freezes again, goes to 14.9 (“Uhhhhhhh”), the graphic gets taken off the screen completely as NBC’s production truck is no doubt in a full panic, then returns with just the score but no time (“!!!”), which looks unsettlingly empty, and then returns with an alleged 51 seconds remaining (“???”) before play finally stops with the clock reading 28.6 seconds.

I felt like a little kid. OMG! The clock stopped! ZOMG!1!1! Now it says 15 minutes! WOWJDJDW NOW IT’S FOURTEEN SECONDS!? THE CLOCK IS GONE! THE CLOCK IS GONE! DO THE REFS KNOW THE TIME!?

So, I was very impressed to read how good the NHL’s contingency policy is, and more importantly that the official kept his cool. That man deserves a raise! Imagine if they screwed that up and Vegas scored the tying goal after time should have expired. Yikes!

How USA missed the World Cup

Art: Michael Weinstein

In October, the United States failed to qualify for the World Cup for the first time in more than 30 years. A loss to Trinidad and Tobago sealed their fate, but according to players, coaches, commentators, and executives across American soccer, the disaster doesn’t come down to just one unfortunate result. No, it was the culmination of nearly a decade of mismanagement that broke the team’s spirit and condemned them to failure.

This long, and I enjoyed it – but you have to really give a crap about the last ten years of U.S. soccer, behind the scenes, to do so. If you do, it’s a great read – exceptionally reported and insightful. -TOB

Source: Own Goal: The Inside Story of How the USMNT Missed the 2018 World Cup“, Andrew Helms and Matt Pentz, The Ringer (06/05/2018)

Gerald and Madison, a Love Story

This week, Madison Bumgarner made his season debut for the Giants, after breaking his hand on a come-backer on the last day of Spring Training. It was good to have MadBum back, even if he’s not in October form yet. The Athletic’s Andrew Baggarly took the time to point out that, ten years ago this week, the Giants drafted Buster Posey, one year after they drafted Bumgarner. The two met shortly thereafter, and quickly progressed through the minors as battery mates. Baggarly spoke to both players about their decade together, and it’s a fun read. But my favorite part was this line from Bummy:

Is that one of Posey’s more underrated attributes? His intuition behind the plate?

“Is there anything underrated about Gerald?” Bumgarner said. “I don’t know if there is.”

Yes, after almost a decade together, and with a bond so much closer than the 60 feet and 6 inches that separate them, Bumgarner still calls Posey by his given name.

“I always call him Gerald,” he said, swallowing a smile. “Yeah. Well, it’s his name, so …”

Welcome back, Bum. -TOB

Source: Like Minded: Madison Bumgarner Returns to the Giants, Reflects on a Decade-Long Kinship with Buster Posey“, Andrew Baggarly, The Athletic (06/06/2018)

Fixing the NCAA’s Player/Coach Compensation Imbalance One Player at a Time

This week, MLB had its annual amateur draft. The Giants picked a guy. Other teams picked some guys. No one picked Oregon State pitcher Luke Heimlich, a story for another day. But one of the most interesting stories came from the Bay’s own Oakland A’s. The A’s took Oklahoma center fielder Kyler Murray with the tenth pick of the first round. Murray has speed and power and projects to be a very good player. But what’s most interesting about this pick is that Murray is also the favorite to take over for Baker Mayfield as the starting quarterback for the Sooners this Fall. Murray has also made it clear that he will be playing football this season.

The A’s knew that, understood the risks, and took him anyways. Murray already signed with the A’s, and will be paid a signing bonus just under $5 million. What I like most about this is that Murray will be paid more than his head coach, Lincoln Riley, who makes a smidge over $3 million per year. Yes, finally, an football star will be paid more than his coach. Progress! -TOB

Source: Murray Agrees to Deal Worth Nearly $5 Million“, Joey Helmer, 247 Sports (06/06/2018)

Video of the week: 

Tweets of the Week

PAL Song of the Week: Led Zeppelin – “Your Time Is Gonna Come”

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I went to Cornell. Ever heard of it?

– Nard Dog

Week of June 1, 2018

The Cold War at the Russian River

Must read. Is this sports related? I dunno, but I love it. It’s like it was computer generated for me: It has floating on a river. Riparian (look it up!) law. Angry old people. Angry hicks. Challenges to false authority. Mild (strike the mild. I wrote too soon) violence. Profanity. Idiot lawyers. A mention of Cow Hollow. If that doesn’t entice you, I quit. -TOB

Source: Drawing a Line in the Sand Over River Rights“, Chris Colin, Outside Magazine (05/30/2018)

PAL: Great writing trumps all. I don’t care that much that this isn’t a sports story. It’s an impeccably written account of the absurdist nature of land rights. Just because you put up a sign doesn’t make it private.

One of my favorite sections of Chris Colin’s writing is this:

Perhaps at this point you’re marveling at the amount of free time that middle-aged white men have. I marveled, too. But as I got deeper into the dispute, I came to see that this picayune squabble wasn’t all that it seemed. Behind the folly of turf wars and the arcana of river law, a larger conflict was playing out, one rooted in a profound disagreement over how we think about nature and how we divide it.

Great read.

J.R.’s Boner

In 1908, rookie Fred Merkle of the New York Giants made one of the biggest blunders of all-time, costing his team the NL Pennant. Merkle was on first base with two outs in the bottom of the 9th of a tie game. There was also a runner on third.  Al Bridwell stepped to the plate and lined a single to center. The runner on third advanced to home. That should have been the ball game. But Merkle didn’t advance to second, and was forced out. The Cubs ended up winning, and going on to win the World Series (their last for 108 years). The play forever became known as Merkle’s Boner, which is an even funnier name now than it was a century ago.

In 1981, Magic Johnson’s Lakers were in the Finals against the Celtics. In a tied game 2 with just a few seconds left, Magic dribbled, and dribbled, and dribbled…and the clock ran out. He either didn’t know the score or didn’t know the time. The Celtics went on to win in overtime, and won the series in seven games.

Add J.R. Smith to the list of huge blunders. Last night, in Game 1 of the NBA Finals, Smith wasted a sublime LeBron performance – 49 points in regulation, completely unstoppable. With just seconds left, the Cavs’ George Hill stepped to the line, down 1. He hit the first, tying the game, but missed the second. Kevin Durant failed to box out, and Smith grabbed the rebound right in front of the basket. But instead of going straight up with it or trying to draw a foul, he streaked away from the basket toward the wing. LeBron pleaded with him, pointing to the hoop. Smith realized his mistake too late, and his pass to Hill did not allow Hill to even get a shot off. The reeling Cavs missed their shot to steal Game 1, and the Warriors won easily in overtime. Here’s the play:

It was obvious Smith thought the Cavs were winning and was trying to run out the clock. Curiously, he claimed after the game that he knew it was tied and was trying to get a timeout.

Too bad for J.R., there’s video of him talking to LeBron right after the play:

“I thought we were ahead.” Yeah, no shit. JR, buddy, just own your mistake. Poor LeBron. It’s hard enough to beat the Warriors four out of seven times. Now he’s gotta beat them five out of seven. -TOB

A Hero for Liar Pitchers Everywhere: Todd Peterson

Todd Peterson is a pitcher for the LSU Tigers. Todd Peterson has not had consistent at bats in games since before high school. Todd Peterson is like every pitcher I’ve ever met, in that he’s supremely confident that he can swing it and will never shut up about it.

The difference between Todd Peterson and every other pitcher not names Ohtani or Bumgarner is that he actually did it, and did so with the season on the line.

Turns out, that win may have been the difference between the Tigers (37-25) making and not making the NCAA tourney, as they were the last team in the field.

That’s all well and good, but Peterson’s post-game interviews are even better:

And the best: Peterson admitting to his coach that he never hit in high school. Listen to that aw shucks moxy:

Oh, and by the way, Peterson pitched the last 5 innings and got the win in the 12-inning game. No biggie. – PAL

Source: LSU Pitcher Hits Clutch Double After Lying to Coach About Hitting ‘Bombs’ in HS”, Dan Gartland, SI (05/25/2018)

Don’t Have Secret Twitter Accounts

Earlier this week, during the lull between the conference finals and the Finals, The Ringer dropped a wild story that shook the NBA. Longtime executive Bryan Colangelo, currently GM for the Sixers, is suspected of running multiple anonymous twitter accounts that bashed players for his team and others, trashed his predecessor Sam Hinkie, leaked players’ private medical information, and defended Colangelo’s work and fashion style.

Colangelo, tweeting (probably).

Colangelo denies all but one of the accounts are his. In fact, he claimed “someone is out to get” him. Word now is the other three may be his wife’s accounts. But there’s one piece of evidence to suggest Colangelo is lying. I’ll let the Ringer’s Ben Detrick explain:

On Tuesday, May 22, I emailed the Sixers and shared the names of two of the accounts, phila1234567 and Eric jr (I did not disclose our suspicions about the other three accounts, one of which, Still Balling, had been active earlier that day; I did this to see whether the partial disclosure would trigger any changes to the other accounts). On a follow-up call that day, Philadelphia’s media representative told me that he would ask Colangelo whether he had any information about the two accounts.

That afternoon, within hours of the call, all three of the accounts I hadn’t discussed with the team switched from public to private, effectively taking them offline—including one (HonestAbe) that hadn’t been active since December. The Still Balling account, which had been tweeting daily, has not posted since the morning of the 22nd (I had already been following Still Balling with an anonymous account of my own, which allowed me to see activity after it went private). Since I contacted the Sixers, Still Balling has unfollowed 37 accounts with ties to Colangelo, including several of his son’s college basketball teammates, a former coach from his son’s high school, and an account that shares the same name as the agent Warren LeGarie, who has represented Colangelo in the past.

Later that day, the Sixers rep called back. He confirmed that one of the accounts (@Phila1234567) did, in fact, belong to Colangelo. He said that Colangelo denied any knowledge of the Eric jr account. When I asked whether he had discussed my inquiry with anyone else in the organization that afternoon, he said that he had spoken to only one person: Colangelo.

On Tuesday, May 29, I contacted the Sixers to ask about the seemingly linked nature of all five accounts. The team responded with a statement from Colangelo:

Like many of my colleagues in sports, I have used social media as a means to keep up with the news. While I have never posted anything whatsoever on social media, I have used the @Phila1234567 Twitter account referenced in this story to monitor our industry and other current events. This storyline is disturbing to me on many levels, as I am not familiar with any of the other accounts that have been brought to my attention, nor do I know who is behind them or what their motives may be in using them

You can draw your own conclusions from the two exchanges: Not only did the Sixers confirm that Colangelo was the owner of one of the five accounts in question, but the three that were not mentioned simultaneously went dark shortly after he was told of The Ringer’s inquiry.

Bryan, Bryan, Bryan. The cover-up is always worse, my man! The three accounts Detrick didn’t ask about going dark is proof that Colangelo either ran those accounts, or knew who did. Colangelo is likely going to be fired. Although, he probably should have been fired for that god awful Tatum for Markelle Fultz plus the Kings’ 2019 first rounder trade last year, anyways. The universe just has a way of working itself out sometimes, ya know. -TOB

Source: The Curious Case of Bryan Colangelo and the Secret Twitter Account“”, Ben Detrick, The Ringer (05/29/2018)

These Kinds of Articles Always Suck Me In

ESPN’s David Schoenfield knows me. He compiled a list of every MLB teams best first round draft pick, best “late round” (10th round or higher, which to me is still a pretty high draft pick, but whatever), and studs they passed on. God, I’m such a sucker for this kind of article. Let’s stop playing grabass and get to some of the highlights. – PAL

First Rounders

  • Red Sox – Roger Clemens (19th pick, 1983). Somehow 10 pitchers in what proved to be a weak first round were selected ahead of Clemens, in part because Texas coach Cliff Gustafson used Clemens as his No. 3 starter (though Clemens won the title game of the College World Series). Two teams — the Mariners and Expos — had two picks before Boston selected Clemens.
  • Seattle – Ken Griffey Jr. (first pick, 1987). Alex Rodriguez also worked out well as a first overall pick.
  • Brewers – Robin Yount (third pick, 1973). The Brewers are the only team with five first-round picks to accumulate 40-plus career WAR: Yount, Paul Molitor, Gary Sheffield, Ryan Braun and Darrell Porter (PAL note: who the hell is Darrell Porter?).

Late-round gems:

  • Mike Piazza (62nd round, 1988). The Dodgers have had a few late-round gems, including 17th-rounder Orel Hershiser, but Piazza is the king of late-round picks, especially given the circumstances of why he was drafted. The team’s final pick in the 1988 draft was selected merely as a favor to Piazza’s godfather, Tommy Lasorda.
  • Yankees – Andy Pettitte (22nd round, 1990) and Jorge Posada (24th, 1990). The Yankees hit the lottery with two draft-and-follows in the same year. Those two ended up producing the third- and fourth-most WAR in the draft that year and helped the Yankees to five World Series championships.
  • Blue Jays – Jeff Kent (20th round, 1989). Kent hit .193 as a sophomore at Cal-Berkeley and left the team his junior season after clashing with the coach. The Blue Jays traded him for David Cone, but he went on to drive in more than 1,500 runs and become the all-time leader in home runs by a second baseman.
  • White Sox – Mark Buehrle (38th round, 1998). The White Sox drafted him after his freshman season at a Missouri junior college and signed him 11 months later as a draft-and-follow. He won 214 games in his career, 161 with the White Sox.
  • Cardinals – Albert Pujols (13th round, 1999). They’ve struck gold with late-round first basemen: Keith Hernandez was a 42nd-round pick in 1971. (He dropped after leaving his high school team in a dispute with the coach but received first-round bonus money.)

Swing and a miss


  • Dodgers – Tom Seaver (eighth round, 1965). The Dodgers have also had some who got away, including Chase Utley (as a second-round pick) and Paul Goldschmidt. Seaver’s eventual entry into pro ball was one of the strangest in draft history. After the Dodgers drafted him, he returned to USC. Under the rules of the time, the Braves then re-drafted him in the January phase and agreed to a $40,000 bonus in late February. But the commissioner nullified the contract because USC’s spring schedule had already begun. The NCAA then ruled Seaver ineligible because he had signed a pro contract. The solution: A special lottery for teams that agreed to pay Seaver a bonus of at least $50,000 (after Seaver’s father threatened a lawsuit). The Mets, Phillies and Indians elected to participate. You know who won.
  • Giants – Barry Bonds (second round, 1982). OK, they eventually got him as a free agent — rumor is he had some good years with the Giants — but the Giants failed to sign him out of high school over a difference of $5,000.
  • Blue Jays – Kris Bryant (18th round, 2010). In the same draft, the Blue Jays snagged Noah Syndergaard with the 38th pick — only to trade him as a minor leaguer.
  • Tigers – Ozzie Smith (seventh round, 1976). The Tigers had one of the great drafts of all time, taking Hall of Famers Alan Trammell in the second round and Jack Morris in the fifth round, plus Dan Petry and Steve Kemp. It could have been three Hall of Famers.
  • Angels – Buster Posey (50th round, 2005). Posey was a star pitcher in high school, played shortstop as a freshman at Florida State and then converted to catcher, and the Giants took him fifth overall in 2008.
  • Braves – Randy Johnson (fourth round, 1982). Imagine a rotation with Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, John Smoltz and the Big Unit.

Source: Best draft picks ever and one that got away for all 30 teams”, David Schoenfield, ESPN (5/30/18)

TOB: I love this too, but I must point out that the last group is not players the teams passed on, but players they drafted and then didn’t sign because the player elected to go to college (except in Seaver’s case). Which is sooooo much more painful.

Video of the Week: 

PAL Song the Week: Cahalen Morrison & Eli West – “Loretta” (Towns Van Zandt)

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How did I just abandon my dreams so quickly? It’s cause I had a fallback. That’s the problem. When you have fallbacks, it’s just easy to give up. When Cortez landed in Mexico, only way he got his men to defeat the Aztecs was by burning all of his own boats. So they could never return home. Huge dick move but very effective. I need to be that same kind of dick to myself.

-Andrew Bernard

Week of May 25, 2018

The Newest Front in the Bullpen Revolution: Starting a Reliever

It is well known that a pitcher gets worse as he approaches his third time through the opposing lineup. Per FanGraphs, “a typical starting pitcher’s OPS-against climbs from .705 to .731 to .771,” in the first, second and third times through the order, respectively. That makes sense – the more times a hitter face a pitcher, the better he’s going to see the pitches and understand what the pitcher is trying to do.

The Rays want to avoid this, while allowing the starter to go deeper into the game, and they have a strange plan to do so. Last weekend, they started former Giants Sergio Romo, a career reliever for the 1st inning to work through the #1-3 hitters. Then, they brought in the “starter” in the 2nd. Here’s how this works in theory if the Rays threw a perfect game, facing 27 batters:

Starting a reliever allows the “starter” to finish the game without facing the #1-3 hitters a third time, thus using the “bullpen” for only one inning. In contrast, in a conventional situation, to avoid the starter facing the #1-3 hitters a third time, the starter would have to leave after the 6th, and then you’d need three innings out of your bullpen. Makes sense.

But what if, ya know, you don’t throw a perfect game. This year, the average MLB team is sending around thirty-four players to the plate per game – that’s seven non-outs. I’m going to add one runner per inning in innings 2-8 (of course, that’s not how it usually works, but for the sake of discussion, that’s what I’m using here):

Daggum. Look at that. Using the Rays’ idea, the Rays’ “starter” gets through the 7th, and the bullpen is used for a total of 3 innings (1st, 8th, 9th). But in a traditional setup, the starter only gets through 4 2/3, and the bullpen is used 4 1/3. I see two interesting things to watch here, aside from whether this will catch-on.

First, the “starter” may miss hitters #1-3 a third time, but how much worse is a typical #4-6 lineup than a #1-3 on the third time through the order? In other words, is this sort of rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic? What actually makes the most sense here is to use your bullpen to get through #1-5 or so (you hope doing so over two innings, and not one), thus having your “starter” avoid the heart of the order, too.

Second, how will opposing teams respond? Will opposing managers rearrange their lineups, moving #7-9 up to the top and pushing everyone else down?


As you can see, for the opposing team, this would add either 1 1/3 or just 1/3 more inning of bullpen work for the Rays, depending on whether the Rays’ start the reliever or the starter in response to the lineup change.  This would negate the Rays’ tactic to a large extent. But then it seems it there’d be a race of lineup cards: who commits and turns in their finished lineup card first? Or would the Rays turn in their card, cause you to turn in your card with #7-9 hitting first, and then simply respond by going ahead and starting their “starter” having successfully moved your worst hitters to the top of the lineup? They’d lose that reliever for the day, but it might be worth the sacrifice.

As for the Rays, they used Romo on Saturday and Sunday last weekend, and he gave them a combined 2 1/3 innings of hitless ball. On Saturday, the tactic worked. Ryan Yarbrough, the “starter”, got to the 8th, having faced the Angels’ #1-3 only twice. He gave up one run in the 8th before leaving. On Sunday, they went further – going to two more relievers for a combined 2 1/3 innings, before turning to “starter” Anthony Banda in 5th to face the #6 hitter. Banda then finished the game, facing the Mike Trout only once (he would have faced him in the bottom of the 9th, but the Angels won 5-2.

Well, hot damn. This didn’t make much sense to me when I first saw the headline, but after charting it out…it makes a lot of sense. I would not be surprised to see other teams follow suit -TOB

Source: The Rays Are Making History With Strange New Pitching Strategies”, Chris Thompson, Deadspin (05/20/2018)

PAL: The risk, as I see it, comes in valuing the number of times a starter faces the best hitters in a lineup over the situation a reliever enters. There’s more data in waiting. In the scenario outlined in the story, Romo enters the game before any situation has played out in the game. Nobody on, nobody out, no score. That’s a very different situation than, say, 2 on and 1 out in the 8th inning with a righty coming up. The “starter” might be done, regardless of how many times he’s faced batters 1-3, and now the Rays have already burned their reliever who is the best bet to get a right-hander out in a critical situation. Admittedly, I’m presenting an argument for one game. The Rays are thinking about getting the most out of and managing a pitching staff over the course of a season.

I get the thinking, and I love that they actually tried it, but to me saving options until situations play out is more advantageous than the efficiency of running a reliever out there in the first inning. As always, it comes down to the quality of arms. A good bullpen can makeup for the extra at-bat for the top hitters, even over the course of a season. A bad bullpen can shit the bed in the first inning, too.

Also, I think the cat-and-mouse game of lineups is neutralized by rule 4.03 stating that the home team has to technically submit its lineup first.

TOB: Statheads call that “high leverage situations”, and your point makes sense. The other issue you point out, which I glossed over a bit, is that it’s impossible to know what will happen. In my almost never happening scenario of one base runner per inning for seven innings, this makes sense. But in most other situations (e.g., four base runners in the second) it seems like anything gained from this loses steam. Still, I always like to see teams try to innovate. Also, nice catch on Rule 4.03. I did not know that!

Best Of Warriors-Rockets, Games 3-5

Since this is such a hot series, we wanted to try something a bit different here and create a mini playoff series digest within the weekly digest. Here are the best bits of writing about games 3,4,and 5:

GAME 3 (Warrior W, 126-85)

TOB: I’m just waiting for a good game. 

PAL: It’s over. Steph is back, and there’s nothing Houston can do to stop Golden State when they are right on offense. Harden can average 40 in this series and Golden State wins it. Houston doesn’t have the firepower to hang with this team. That was a beatdown, one that the Warriors hope lingers with the Rockets for Game 4.


Laura Wagner – Deadspin

  • Then the third quarter started, and so did Curry. His dominance isn’t the sort that leans on a team, wearing them out over the course of four full quarters, but the sort that descends, suddenly and without mercy, and wipes opponents away in minutes.
  • TOB: I wondered if Steph had ever shot so poorly (3 for 20 – 15%) over a 3 game stretch in his career. It happened once: February 27 – March 2, 2017: 4/31 (12.9%).

Bruce Jenkins – SF Chronicle

  • And then it happened. Curry produced a stretch of third-quarter magnificence that defined the Warriors’ 126-85 victory over Houston — and an era.

Tom Ley – Deadspin

  • It doesn’t feel like it makes sense that the Rockets, the team getting precisely the match-ups they wants and whose schemes are unfolding without a hitch, are the ones with a 2-1 series deficit and a lot left to figure out. That’s the power of the Warriors, though. You can stake out whatever strategic high ground you’d like, and they’ll just go on soaring over your head.

Ethan Strauss – The Athletic

  • TOB: There’s so much good writing about this series. Read this one – it does a great job showing you what the Warriors tried that didn’t work early, what they switched to and when, and how that improved their defense. Good stuff.

Marcus Thompson II – The Athletic

  • The Warriors turn Paul into a shooting guard. They leave him 1-on-1 with good defenders and force him to score. The Rockets are doing their best to keep Paul away from Thompson, getting him switched onto better matchups. But that matchup — Curry or Looney, mostly — is baiting Paul into being the type of player the Warriors can beat.
  • As long as Paul is trying to get buckets, the Warriors are winning. The Paul the Rockets need is the one who makes average players look better because of how he sets them up. They need the Paul who breaks down defenses and basically makes the help pick the poison. So far in this series, in Game 3 especially, the poison is being consumed by Paul.

GAME 4 (Rockets W, 95-92)

TOB: Man. When Step Curry is on, there’s nothing better in sports, for me. That third quarter run he had was incredible. With six minutes to go in the quarter, the Rockets led by 5. Then Curry went: Deeeeeeep three. Deep step back three. Three. Layup. Warriors up 3 just two minutes later. They pushed it to ten by the end of the third and then…terrible. Horrible. What the HELL was that? The Warriors blew it, and Harden wasn’t even shooting well.

PAL: It’s a good thing I don’t really gamble, because if you would’ve given me a Warriors 10 point lead going into the 4th quarter at home, then I wouldn’t lost my saving account. No ball movement in the 4th quarter. I don’t know how or why the Warriors can get away from that when moving the ball on offense gives them such good looks. I guess they were missing those, too.

Also, don’t tell me Iguodala’s injury is that important to this team. Curry was the key to the Warriors dominance before Game 3. We can’t be switching that title to Iggy now.


Ben Golliver – SI:

  • Complacency, Golden State’s oldest and fiercest nemesis, had returned. The Warriors won Game 3 too easily, beating the Rockets by 41 points. They opened Game 4 too easily, building a 12–0 lead.
  • Golden State’s vaunted offense produced more turnovers (4) than field goals (3) in the final period.

Ramona Shelburne – ESPN:

  • Desperation tends to help in finding a finishing kick, and heading into the fourth quarter, Houston was very much in a desperate place. Whatever fatigue the Rockets might’ve felt had to be conquered.”

Roger Sherman – The Ringer:

  • The Warriors flame-broil opponents alive, torching nets and their opponents’ morale to the tune of 20,000 Bay Area screams. How are opponents supposed to react when Golden State does this? For four years, the answer has been simple: Just accept that there’s nothing that can be done. When they’re this hot, there is no hope. But on Tuesday night, the Rockets stared down Golden State at its hottest and came out with a critical 95-92 win in Game 4 of the Western Conference finals.”

Game 5 (Rockets W, 98-94)

TOB: Again. What the hell was that? Harden again shot terribly – (5 for 21, 0-11 from 3) so many missed shots he usually drains. And the Warriors could not capitalize. And why is Quinn Cook getting crunch time minutes? He went 0-3, all threes, and all wiiiiiide open. I’ve never seen this team play so sloppy. And, I’m just going to say it: Kevin Durant is overrated. I’ve never been a big fan of watching him. But I’m so tired of him pound the ball into the ground and then taking a contested 18 footer from a weird angle. Anyways, the Warriors choked again. E-40 might need to rethink his line: “Do we panic do we flinch? Nope. Because the answer this series is: YUP. The Warriors have one saving grace – Chris Paul is out for Game 6 with a hamstring injury suffered in the final moments of Game 5. Harden won’t shoot 0 for 11 from 3 again, though, so the Warriors still have a lot of work to do.

PAL: The Warriors fail to get a good look (or even a shot) at the end of a one possession game for the second game in a row. Really brutal. They are on the ropes, and the air of invincibility is no longer a factor in this series. I’m beginning to wonder if it ever was. But who cares, really.

My biggest takeaway from this game has nothing to do with the result. I don’t want to see any more commemorations to the victims of mass shootings at athletic events. It’s infuriating. No bands on the jersey like the one pictured above, no pre- (Kerr) or post-game questions about it (Harden), no honoring of the “survivors”. While they might be survivors, they are also victims of a heinous and preventable recurring nightmare. It’s going to happen again. We all know it. Another kid is going to walk into a school and shoot teachers and students this year. We’ll all be shocked, albeit for a shorter and shorter amount of time, and then the news cycle will turn over. Conservative, liberal; NRA member or fierce advocate of stricter gun laws – we have to work together to figure this out. 

Yep, I’m on a soap box, but this is my takeaway from the game.


Tom Ley – Deadspin:

  • What we’ve gotten instead has been much worse. The Rockets’ roulette ball has mostly betrayed them, and yet they still lead the series 3-2 because the Warriors seem to have lost themselves. Chris Paul and James Harden shot a combined 11-for-40 last night; the Rockets as a team shot 30 percent from three-point range; James Harden has missed his last 20 three-point attempts (PAL’s emphasis). Somehow that all added up to a 98-94 win. If any team should be a prisoner to its own fluctuating efficiencies, it’s the Rockets, but the Warriors were simply incapable of taking advantage in Game 5.
  • But the thing that made the Warriors The Warriors in the first place was never just the talents of the players on the roster, but their ability to use those talents to complement and lift each other. Tossing the ball to Kevin Durant on the block over and over and over again is something you’d expect the Knicks to do if Durant had the misfortune of playing for the Knicks. The entire point of Durant playing for the Golden State Warriors is to prevent him from ever having to play like an upmarket Carmelo Anthony in the conference finals.
  • Last night’s game featured some of the biggest stars in the NBA and came down to the final possession, and yet it felt like watching a traffic jam.

Anthony Slater – The Athletic

  • But crunch time has become a sudden problem for these Warriors. The NBA defines it as a game that’s within five points in the final five minutes. The Warriors and Rockets faced nearly the same amount of crunch time during the season — 107 such minutes for the Rockets, 110 for the Warriors. Houston was significantly better: +70 to +31.
  • Paul’s injury isn’t the only ailment looming over the remainder of this series. Andre Iguodala’s knee contusion, suffered in the fourth quarter of Game 3, forced him to miss Games 4 and 5 and his status for 6 remains highly questionable.
  • Without Iguodala, the Warriors have failed to find a reliable fifth option in the most important moments of the past two games. Kevon Looney and Jordan Bell continue to get targeted defensively and helped off offensively. Shaun Livingston is in a sudden swoon. Cook bricked the biggest shot of his career.

The Best of Sports: Johnson High School Badminton

This feel-good story hits pretty close to home for me. St. Paul Johnson is less than 5 miles from I grew up, and nowhere in the United States in the Hmong community more prevalent. These were my classmates and neighbors, and this story athletic dynasty is a heartwarming example of the power of community, high school athletics, Title IX, and really impressive young women making progress than will be felt for generations.

First, a little history from Sarah Barker:

Hmong, an ethnic group that lived in the mountains of Laos and assisted the U.S. in fighting its “secret war” in the country during the 1960s and 70s, started arriving in Minnesota in 1975, the same year that badminton was introduced to high schools. Badminton enjoys great popularity in Asia, and Hmong refugees brought that enthusiasm with them. There are now more than 66,000 Hmong in Minnesota, the largest community in the U.S., concentrated in the Twin Cities metro area.

Many Hmong lived as farmers in Laos; some were illiterate in their native language. In 1990, only 19 percent of Hmong women in the U.S. had a high school diploma, and 44 percent of Hmong men. At that time, an estimated 65 percent of Hmong lived in poverty. Hmong women traditionally married young and had large families, limiting their educational and economic outlook. But as of 2010, more Hmong women than men earned bachelor’s degrees, and poverty in the Hmong community dropped to 31 percent (still staggering in real numbers). In 1991, Choua Lee was elected to the St. Paul School Board, the first Hmong elected to any public office in the United States.

Like their east St. Paul neighborhood, Johnson High School’s demographics do not speak to a gilded pathway: Thirty-one percent of students are English learners, and 82 percent are on free or reduced lunch. Fifty-four percent of students are Asian American, 24 percent African American, 10 percent Hispanic, 10 percent white. But 60 percent of this year’s 1,302 students took part in early college programs.

How good in Johnson’s team? Since 1978, the team has won 24 St. Paul City Championships and 9 State titles (I can’t find when the first state badminton tournament was held, and the Minnesota State High School League website archive only goes back to 2003 for all sports).

Barker goes on to profile some of the young women who make up the top-ranked singles and doubles players on the team. This is not AAU basketball factory. While they are planning to go to college next year, none of the seniors on the team see badminton as anything other than a hobby.

Nou Chee Yang, the team’s number 1 singles player is a state champ and also ranked 10 in her class. she’s already taken college courses and will be going to college at Hamline University (St. Paul, MN) next fall. All of this with the responsibilities of a middle child of seven, which means babysitting, cooking, and generally helping out around the house.

And there’s Josepheena “Lala” Thao – captain of the tennis, gymnastics, and badminton teams, ranked #9 in her class academically. Oh, and she has a part-time job, too.

These young women are just ass-kickers, on and off the court. They represent the best of the most popular sport at the school. More students are in the badminton program (over 80) at Johnson than participate in the football program. What may have started as an affordable Title IX adherence has become a point of pride for the community.

I never thought I’d root for Johnson, but this story highlights students that absolutely deserve it. – PAL

Source: How An Inner-City Minnesota High School Built a Girls’ Badminton Dynasty”, Sarah Barker, Deadspin (5/22/18)


Moms are great, but sometimes they just don’t understand.

Steph Curry knows. On Sunday, the Warriors crushed the Rockets in Game 3 by 41 points. Curry finally broke out in the third quarter. He was amazing, and he let the Rockets know:

The crowd at Oracle ate it up, but not everyone was so pleased. Namely, Steph’s mom:

“She already sent me two home videos, showing me the clip and playing it back,” Curry told ESPN. “She was telling me how I need to wash my mouth out, saying to wash it out with soap. It’s a message I’ve heard before.”

Reminds me of the time I ran across the key and tackled a guy about to shoot a free throw, starting a bench-clearing brawl that I punctuated by throwing a folding chair across the court. And my MOM somehow finds this moment, where I was defending her honor, less than savory! MOMS. Geeze. -TOB

Source: Stephen Curry, Amid Breakout Rally, Fails to Hold Tongue: ‘I Blacked Out‘”, Chris Haynes, ESPN (05/20/2018)

A Plea for Patience When an Athlete is Accused of Domestic Abuse

Over the last few years, there has been an increasing demand for teams to cut players involved in domestic violence incidents. Something about it hasn’t sat right with me. Unless the league is going to prevent another team from signing the player, then what’s the point? The team who currently employs the player cuts him, and only for the player to be signed by another team. And while the team signing the player gets some public pushback, it’s nothing compared to the outcry when the originally employing team refuses to cut the player. For example, look at Greg Hardy, who was cut by the Panthers amidst justifiable outrage after horrific domestic abuse at his hands, only to be signed shortly thereafter by the Cowboys.

But in the wake of the Ray Rice abuse a few years back, something has gnawed at me even more: the immediate demand to cut a player upon the allegation of domestic abuse. Now, sports teams are not a court of law. They don’t need to uphold the principle of innocent until proven guilty. They are businesses and are rightfully concerned with their bottom line. Still, something about this clamoring seems unfair, not only to the accused player, but to the team.

This offseason, we saw an illustration of this in the Reuben Foster saga. Foster, the 49ers 2017 first round pick and a very promising young player, was accused in February by his ex-girlfriend, Elissa Ennis, of domestic abuse. The details were not pretty.

Immediately, fans and sports media called for the 49ers to cut Foster. When the 49ers resisted, people were outraged. This struck me as unfair. The team had invested a lot in Foster and deserve to treat that investment as they see fit. To their credit, the 49ers weren’t suggesting they’d keep Foster no matter what. Said General Manager John Lynch, “If these charges are proven true, if Reuben did hit this young lady, he won’t be a part of this organization going forward.” That seemed like a pretty reasonable position to me. It was not to others. But why not? Shouldn’t the team be allowed to see this out?

As it turns out, the 49ers were wise to wait. Shortly after making the accusations, Foster’s ex-girlfriend recanted the accusations to the District Attorney. Now, victims often falsely recant allegations for a number of reasons, including being paid, being afraid, or simply not wanting their partner to suffer the consequences. Accordingly, the D.A. pushed forward here. But it is clear now the D.A. should not have. Ennis testified at the preliminary hearing last week, and it seems she really did make it up. She testified Foster has never hit her, and that she made false accusations because she was angry at him for breaking up with her, and she wanted to “fuck up his career”. What about the allegation he hit her so hard it broke her ear drum? Turns out she was involved in a road rage incident with another woman a couple days prior and had been injured during that fight. The fight was even caught on video, and the video was provided to the D.A. What about the accusation Forster threw Ennis’ dog against the wall? She said it wasn’t true, and a police officer testified the dog showed no sign of abuse. In fact, Ennis testified that she had abused Foster.

I am not writing this to crap on Ennis. I’m not writing this to suggest that people alleging domestic abuse should not be taken seriously. Stories like this are troubling because of the way they undermine true victims. The vast majority of domestic abuse cases are real, and many go unreported, for a variety of reasons, including fear and shame. But a high profile bogus accusation like this discredits all victims, and causes people not to take accusations seriously. As Katherine Redmond, herself a survivor of abuse and an advocate who trains athletes in violence prevention says:

“Yes, it hurts and this will be placed with Duke Lacrosse. And victims will constantly hear about these two cases when excuses are made for abusive behavior. People who have been abused tend to gravitate towards other abusers if they are not healed. Because that is what they know. They don’t mean to and don’t want to, but abusers find them and they cannot see clearly because of past abuse.”

(Redmond’s reference there to “people who have been abused” is actually about Foster, not Ennis: Foster’s dad was abusive, and shot Foster’s mom in the back while she held Foster, then a baby, in her arms. Foster’s mom survived).

No, the reason I am writing this is for a plea for some patience: if an athlete is accused of a crime, absent clear video like the Ray Rice elevator abuse incident, can we all just let the criminal justice system do its thing before we start calling for suspensions or for a player to be cut? -TOB

Source: After Damaging False Accusations, How Does Reuben Foster Regain His Reputation?”, Lisa Olson, The Athletic (05/20/2018)

PAL:  I just spent some time looking up headlines and articles from April, before Ennis recanted her statements. There are some writers who hit publish too early on this one. And TOB’s absolutely right – this is not about crapping on Ennis or calling our journalists who jumped the gun; rather, it’s about everyone just pumping the brakes between shock and outrage.

Solid NHL Playoff Analysis

It feels like it’s been awhile since we featured Barry Petchesky on the ol’ blog, but he absolutely kills it with this nugget from the Capitals-Lightning series (the Caps ended up winning the series and will face the Vegas Knights – yes, that’s right, the Vegas Knights – in the finals).

As we watch the NBA playoffs and the NHL playoffs, and as TOB gives us weekly updates on Ohtani (still looking good!), there are a couple paragraphs from this story that really highlight just how small the space is for success in professional sports. James Harden or Steph Curry just need a half second of hesitation in order to drill a three right in the defender’s face. Mike Trout needs the pitcher to miss his spot on a slider by half an inch, and that’s the difference between a ground out and a double. Nicklas Backstrom needs the defenders just aware of Ovechkin on the far hash in order to feed T.J. Oshie for a one-timer.

I’ll cede the floor to Petchesky for the deep analysis:

There’s a lot of subtle work going on here in order to give Oshie the “couple feet” of room Backstrom needs:

Ovechkin, in the left circle, doesn’t have to do anything but exist in order to seriously distract Anthony Cirelli, defending in the high slot—look how many times Cirelli looks back over his shoulder. Evgeny Kuznetsov, down low, darts in front of net, not only getting Anton Stralman and Ryan McDonagh to lean the wrong way for split second, but screening Andrei Vasilevskiy. Even Backstrom is looking off Alex Killorn. “It’s all about, try to look somewhere else,” Backstrom said, “and pass it the other way.”

So, when Cirelli was hanging back, and Stralman and McDonagh were slightly off-balance, and Killorn lifted his stick, then—and not a split second before, or after—did Backstrom make the pass.

Again, look how tight the space is that 10 guys occupy. Even thoughts take up space (Ovechkin stalking on the weak side). The precision is incredible, the misdirection critical, and the hesitation lethal. It’s not a great story, but Petchesky does a great job dissecting a play and showing us just how good these guys are. Love it! – PAL

Source: I’m In Awe Of This Nicklas Backstrom Pass”, Barry Petchesky, Deadspin (5/22/18)

Video(s) of the Week: 

PAL Song of The Week: Richard Thompson – “1952 Vincent Black Lightning”

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I know a few things about love. Horrible, terrible, awful, awful things. 

-Nard Dog

Week of May 18, 2018

Ben Zobrist was actually threatened a fine if he continued wearing these Sandlot-inspired PF Flyers. Loosen up, Commish.

Sad Story, Happy Ending

I’ve never read a sports story quite like this one.

Deshae Wise is a freshman sprinter on Cal’s track team. She came to Berkeley from a small town in Oregon, where she was a Gatorade Athlete of the Year. Her name is climbing up the record books already, with the eighth and fourth fastest 60-meter hurdle times in Cal history. She carries a 4.0 G.P.A., volunteered for Habitat for Humanity, and she’s joined the black business association on campus, too. And before all of this success, she and her mom were victims of human trafficking. This wasn’t in some far off place halfway around. This happened right here in the U.S.A.

The initial moment Rebecca Bender, Deshae’s mother, realized what was happening is heartbreaking and terrifying. She had met Khaled (not the guy’s real name) in Eugene when she was around 19 or 20 and her daughter was still very young*. Six months after meeting him, Bender decided to move with him to Las Vegas to start their life as a family.

But the dream ended before it even began, according to Rebecca, whose recollection of the next several years is backed by FBI statements and court records, public documents and interviews. Less than 24 hours after arriving in Vegas, she says, things quickly turned. Khaled told Rebecca he wanted to take her out on the town. “Get dressed up,” she remembers him saying.

Deshae stayed with Khaled’s brother, but instead of heading to the strip, Khaled drove him and Rebecca to a dead-end street anchored by a deserted strip mall. Rebecca remembers just darkness and the hum of the car. Khaled, she says, turned to her and explained with a seriousness on his face: He needed money for the apartment, for Deshae’s food. . . . And Rebecca had to pay him. Now.

Khaled, she says, pointed to a door with a security camera above it and told her to enter. Inside she found a smoke-filled room with three desks pushed next to one another, a woman seated behind each. Behind them, written out cleanly on a dry-erase board, were the words brunette, blonde, asian, redhead. . . . It was all too clear, too real. She was at an escort service, and Khaled expected her to sign herself up. No way. She was shocked, confused, and terrified.

Back in the car, Khaled slapped her across the face. Rebecca was suddenly terrified. She was in a new city. . . she didn’t know her address yet. . . and she didn’t know where her daughter was. The rest unfolded in a blur of fear and confusion. At some point there was a phone call from a “local” in the Green Valley area, 15 minutes away. Khaled drove to a townhouse, dropped Rebecca off and parked nearby.

Khaled is what they call a “Romeo” – a trafficker that uses romance to lure his victims (as opposed to a “gorilla”, who uses brute force) – but he quickly turned violent towards Bender. He also would scare her by making threats on her daughter. Bender was mortified and trapped. Then she was “traded” to another trafficker. Kevin gave them nicer things, but he beat Bender and was paranoid the house would get raided. Deshae was getting older – she was in grade school by now – and she could say things to teachers, coaches, or other parents.

Writer Jeremy Fuchs does a really good job juxtaposing their nightmare with mother and daughter existing in the most common, ordinary backdrops. Soccer games, volleyball games, and school plays. They existed in our world, and no one knew the truth. They were very much captives.

Why didn’t Bender just take Deshae and leave, you might be asking. She did try. Four times, in fact.

By the time Deshae was eight, Rebecca had tried to flee with her daughter four times. Once, they made it back to Rebecca’s mom’s house in Grants Pass, but Kevin tracked them down in Oregon and brought them back to Vegas. Another time, feds surrounded one of Kevin’s houses in Vegas in the middle of the night as part of a tax-evasion investigation, and Rebecca took Deshae out the back door and climbed over a fence into a neighbor’s yard.

If that seems like the perfect opportunity to escape, Rebecca didn’t see it that way; she didn’t see any choice but to stay with Kevin—a common sentiment among victims of trafficking. “There’s the realistic stuff, like: How would I get a job? Or what is society going to think of me?” says Elizabeth Hopper, a clinical psychologist and the director of Project REACH, which helps trafficking victims. “Traffickers control the living space, the money, where to go. . . . And then: Is he going to come after me?”

In the end, obviously, Bender and Deshae do escape (it may surprise you as to how they get away), and we know the story has an incredible ending in Deshae signing an athletic scholarship at world-renowned academic institution. Perhaps most incredible of all is that Deshae was never abused. “The probability that I wasn’t sexually or emotionally abused is so slim,” she said. “In any other situation it would have happened to me—but it didn’t.”

This heavy, dense story, but absolutely worth your time. – PAL

*Fuchs never gives an exact age on Deshae when they move to Vegas with Khaled. She’s a freshman now in 2018, and her mother moved back to Eugene around 2000 after getting pregnant with Deshae in Maryland. The story says later that Bender was traded after two years under Khaled in 2004..so she must of met Khaled in 2001 or 2002, which would’ve made Wise around 2 at the time of the move to Vegas.

Source: Life After Escaping the World of Human Trafficking”, Jeremy Fuchs, Sports Illustrated (05/10/2018)

TOB: God damn, an incredible story. Deshae’s mother, Rebecca Bender, has started the Rebecca Bender Initiative, with the goal of equipping first responders with the tools to identify victims of exploitation and assisting victims to escape their traffickers and then assisting them re-adjust to society. In this video, Rebecca tells her story:

Best Of Warriors-Rockets

Since this is such a hot series, we wanted to try something a bit different here and create a mini playoff series digest within the weekly digest. Here are the best bits of writing about games 1 and 2:

Game 1 (Warriors W, 119-106):

PAL: Kevin Durant is 7-feet tall and one of the best shooters ever. Unfair. The Warriors simply have more. Durant, Curry, Klay, Green (who wasn’t a scorer tonight). Mix in a few buckets from role players like Nick Young, and it’s impossible to score at their pace. Harden is incredible, and Paul is real good, but the Warriors are just more.

TOB: Before the series, I figured Warriors in 6. But unlike most, this game did give me a little pause. Curry did not look right, and relying on Durant to hit 18 footers is not what got the Warriors here. The fact they had to do it so often suggests to me that Curry is not out there doing Curry things to get himself and others open. Still, the Rockets looked terrible, and it took an incredible Harden performance, hitting tough shots while well defended, to keep the score respectable. 

Best Stuff:

Source: “Houston’s Risk-Management Basketball Didn’t Work Against the Warriors”, Danny Chau, The Ringer

  • [Rockets GM] Daryl Morey has admittedly been obsessed with beating the Warriors, the NBA’s white whale; this isolation-heavy offense can’t possibly be the answer to Golden State’s riddle, can it?
  • In front of the backdrop of a Golden State offense steered by Stephen Curry’s gyroscopic off-ball play and Kevin Durant’s virtuosity in any sort of space, the Rockets’ offense looks downright ugly.
  • Styles make fights, and no matter how the rest of this series plays out, Houston has at least provided an important intellectual exercise for both Golden State and the league at large. The Rockets don’t have as much talent on their roster as the Warriors do, and they would be fools to consider replicating the Warriors’ style just because it’s en vogue (PAL note: this is exactly what Houston did in game 2 – they increased the ball movement and got role players involved in the offense). Houston is playing risk-management basketball, making sure that its supporting cast isn’t forced to do anything it isn’t comfortable doing; it just so happens that placing all of that pressure on two primary ball handlers also raises their risk profile. It’s a gamble. It always is against the Warriors.

Source: The Warriors Are Better Than The Rockets”, Albert Burneko, Deadspin

  • “That, in turn, partly is due to the fact that the Warriors have Kevin Durant, but more importantly it’s because the Warriors know more ways to score than standing around like fucking idiots while their Designated Ball User dribbles a Morse Code War and Peace into the hardwood in 22-second chapters.”

Source: The Rockets Have Nothing For Kevin Durant”, Patrick Redford, Deadspin

  • Look how many of those buckets are simple isolations; look how mercilessly Durant sizes up and incinerates whichever sack of crap (or two) dares guard him. My favorite is at around 1:25, when Andre Iguodala feeds the ball down to Durant in the mid-post where he’s matched up against P.J. Tucker, and Marv Albert says, “Iguodala for Durant, has a mismatch.” Indeed he did: He had a mismatch against Houston’s best individual defender, the guy designated for the grim job of checking him all night. “Kevin Durant has a mismatch” is the safest thing to say in all the English language. Bark it out the next time you’re wandering the aisles of your local supermarket. The time of day doesn’t even matter. It’s always true. Kevin Durant has a mismatch.

Game 2 (Rockets W, 127-105)

PAL: The Warriors can just drive you nuts. Winning isn’t enough for these basketball artists – they need to make the most beautiful play, even if the degree of difficulty is way high or the margin for error is transparent. The turnovers kill me, because they just seem so careless. How can the same group of dudes make the game look so perfect be the same dudes to make it almost unwatchable?

Tonight was the only recipe for a Rockets win. Combine an off shooting from everyone not named Durant + Rockets role players going crazy. Come on – P.J. Tucker, Ariza, and Gordon aren’t going to score 22, 19, and 28 in the same game again this series. Warriors still take this in 5.

TOB: I still think the Warriors win this series. But Game 2 made me ask myself out loud: When will people stop overreacting to Game 1 of a series? Look at what those writers wrote above after Game 1. Or Charles Barkley joking the Warriors would win in 3 games. It happens all the time. Multiple times per postseason. A team wins Game 1 and suddenly no other result is possible. Basketball doesn’t work like that, especially this deep in the postseason. Teams get here because they’re good and can do good things. The Rockets won 62 games. That’s no fluke. The Warriors got close in the 4th, cutting it to 10, and suddenly the Rockets rained threes on their heads and pushed the lead to almost 30 in just a few minutes.

The Warriors have a real Steph Curry problem, though. I’m guessing he’s hurt, because he looks immobile and not explosive just like in 2016. Not only can he not guard anyone, he can’t get open. He looks lost out there and he needs to start hitting shots or the Warriors will lose. For all the Durant love, no one changes a game like Curry – he opens the floor up for everything the Warriors do, and they cannot win this thing without a major contribution from him. Also, Klay’s inconsistency will never not drive me crazy.

Best Stuff:

Source: Steph Curry Will Have To Take Over At Some Point, Tom Ley, Deadspin

  • You could see Curry outlining a Takeover Game—one of those in which he singlehandedly erases what appeared to be an insurmountable lead through a barrage of threes and floaters that drop perfectly through the net—but he just wasn’t up to filling in the full picture. Your level of concern regarding the Warriors’ chances going forward in this series should directly correlate with how likely you think it is that Curry will continue to sputter in these moments. You have to assume he’s going to keep trying to grab hold of games like he did during that fourth-quarter stretch last night, and at some point the Warriors will need him to find his grip.

Source: “Steph Curry Needs to Get His Mojo Back”, Danny Heifetz, The RInger

  • The biggest obstacle between the Warriors and their dynastic destiny isn’t another team, but Steph’s mojo failing to return, à la the 2016 playoffs. Through two games, the Rockets have thwarted Steph by having their bigs play tight defense when switched onto him, daring him to drive and denying open looks from 3. Whether Steph is unable or unwilling to take what the Rockets are offering him, the plan has thus far worked. His defensive performance added to the frustration, as James Harden constantly targeted Steph in Game 2.
  • In all likelihood, Game 2 was an anomaly. The Warriors let washed Manu Ginobili walk all over them in Game 4 against the Spurs, and the Pelicans crushed Golden State in a similarly sloppy performance by the defending champs two weeks ago. Both opponents were swiftly vanquished in the ensuing games. Odds are the Warriors will win their next two home games, clinch the series in Houston, defeat whatever overachieving Eastern team survives the conference finals, and we’ll remember this game as the last ray of light before the Warriors blotted out the NBA sun for the third time in four seasons. Yet there’s a chance—say, 13.7 percent—that the outcome of these playoffs isn’t prewritten after all.

Robinson Cano: the PED/HOF Debate Rages On

(Forgive me for writing about this topic again, but I love it)

He’s not really going to be a case study in how Hall of Fame voters will treat players with confirmed PED suspensions, because by the time he’s eligible around the year 2040, the question of whether PED guys make the Hall of Fame (Bonds and Clemens chief among them) will have sorted itself out. But Robinson Cano’s suspension this week for taking a diuretic that is often used as a masking agent will still be interesting.

As things stood before this week, Cano had a good chance to make the Hall of Fame if he retired the day before the suspension was announced:

At age 35, Canó is already past many of the standard statistical markers for enshrinement into the Hall of Fame. We usually start the Hall of Fame conversation at around 60 bWAR, and Canó’s up to 67.5. JAWS, a Hall of Fame value estimator that balances a player’s career bWAR against his seven-year peak bWAR, rates Canó’s career as already better than that of the average Hall of Fame second baseman. Plus, Canó, who’s still a very good hitter at this stage in his career, has five more seasons left on his current contract in which he can pad his counting stats. He has 2,417 career hits and 305 career home runs.

With a few more years, Cano should get to 3,000 hits and might get to 400 home runs, which would have made him a sure thing before this week. But now that he has this black mark, what will come of his Hall of Fame chances? The Ringer’s Michael Baumann makes a good argument. First, the electorate is changing – younger, more accepting of the fact that PEDs exist in baseball. Cano’s final year on the ballot could be as late as 2040. All of the voters who felt personally fooled by the Steroid Era and refuse to vote for anyone associated at all with PEDs will be long gone – either dead or otherwise not voting. Second, the media likes Cano. This should be a big plus in his favor. And as Baumann points out, the upcoming candidacy of Andy Pettite should tell us a lot about Cano’s chances:

But we should pay attention to what happens to Andy Pettitte, who was named in the Mitchell Report and admitted to using HGH, when he appears on the ballot this year. His case isn’t any more impressive than Gary Sheffield’s, and while Sheffield peaked at 13.3 percent in 2017, I’m confident that Pettitte, with his Baseball Man reputation and clutch postseason record, will blow that number out of the water.

And, I’d point out, it’ll also tell us a lot about the hypocrisy of voters who won’t vote for Bonds or Clemens, two not well-liked guys who are suspected of taking PEDs, but will vote for Pettitte, a well-liked guy who we know took PEDs. -TOB

Source: “Will Robinson Canó’s 80-Game Suspension Affect His Hall of Fame Chances?”, Michael Baumann, The Ringer (05/15/2018)

PAL: It matter to me. It’s not about what the Hall of Fame represents, or what we think it should represent; rather; it’s about entitlement.

Bonds, McGuire, Palmero, Cano, Manny, etc. – these guys are/were idolized and catered to and fawned over for playing a game. They earned hundreds of millions of dollars. They made a royal life for themselves and their loved ones.

I know I sound old and out of touch, and possibly even naive, but whether or not a guy used performance enhancing drugs matters. Should he be able to play again? Yes. Should he be able to continue to make an insane amount of money? Yes. Should he be able to coach after he’s done playing? Of course.

The only part of an illustrious, fruitful life in baseball that these guys are kept out of is the Hall of Fame, voted on by the Baseball Writers of America and the Veterans Committee. If the Hall of Fame is what’s at stake for the greats, I’m good with that being the punishment for taking banned substances. But what about the guys who admitted to taking greenies and all the other unsavory characters with plaques, you ask. I’m not saying it’s perfect solution, and it’s moving the barrier of entry for relatively new generations of players. Again, I think that’s an acceptable consequence to cleaning up the game.

TOB: Isn’t that a little overkill? A little jealous? A little petty? The punishment for taking banned substances is an 80 game suspension. And a lot of money (for Cano around $12M). The HOF is not just an honor for the players – it’s a museum, of baseball history for the fans.

Also, I don’t recall much complaint from you when your boy Pudge got in the HOF. As I’m sure you remember, Pudge came into camp CONSIDERABLY slimmer the year they began testing for steroids. He was also implicated in Canseco’s book, which proved accurate on quite a few other guys. Pudge got in on the first ballot.

We’re gonna ban Cano now because he took a diuretic? Even if I were to agree a HOF ban for use of PEDs was appropriate, I’d need a lot more than the use of something that can be a masking agent.’’’


  1. You say my reaction is overkill, jealous, and petty. In other words, I’m being jealous and petty. I’d say that’s a bit much. Would I like to be a big league baseball player? That would be awesome! Do I walk around constantly jealous of them, and am I happy when they get caught breaking the rules. No, and no. I do think having a game without PEDs is a worthy pursuit, so I wouldn’t call pondering the legacy of a great player who tested positive for a banned substance petty or of little importance. I mean, you wouldn’t love writing about this if it was inconsequential.
  2. A player can be included in the “museum” without being inducted into the Hall of Fame. We’re talking about a plaque and a speech. That’s it. We aren’t using the ctrl-f on their name and deleting it from all records of ever playing the game.
  3. Pudge – yes, there are rumors and weight loss. Obviously, it’s harder to keep someone out when there isn’t a failed test or admission. I concede that this is a fuzzy zone here, as we’re entering that pre-admission, Lance Armstrong territory (never failed a drug test) here.
  4. Dude, baseball players take the diuretic for one reason. Call me jealous and petty, and I’ll call you willfully ignorant on this “diuretic isn’t the PED” take. 

TOB: When you argue, “they earned hundreds of millions of dollars. They made a royal life for themselves and their loved ones,” and this is the one thing they can’t have, then yeah it sounds a little jealous. But there’s a lot more to this.

First, As I noted, the punishment is 80 games, which will cost Cano $12M. Now you want to punish him again, decades from now, by not letting him in the Hall of Fame? That’s too much, for me. Moreover, you argue that this will “clean up the game” presumably because people won’t want to risk their chances for the Hall of Fame. There’s a huge flaw in this logic. How many players playing today do you think have a legitimate shot at the Hall of Fame? Maybe 20? 25? Let’s say 50. That means those 50 guys are subject to a much harsher punishment than everyone else simply because they are better players. Brandon Belt is good. He’s not HOF good. If he gets popped for PEDs, he comes back in August and continues to play. If Kris Bryant gets popped for PEDs, he pays the same price as Belt PLUS he can’t be in the HOF. How is that fair? And how is it a deterrent for the players who have no chance at the HOF?

Second, my argument about diuretics is not willful ignorance. It’s asking for a higher standard of proof than rumors, allegations, and innuendo. Because taking a diuretic is not proof – it’s innuendo. It’s suggestive. Maybe he smoked some weed and wanted to clear that out of his system.

Finally, you make my point for me with Pudge. There was an allegation. There’s circumstantial evidence. And he sails in. For Bonds and Clemens, there were allegations. There was circumstantial evidence. And they may never get in. How is that fair? There should be no “fuzzy zone”. The only fair thing is to let them all in. Have a section in the HOF explaining the steroid era, and note that many players were suspected of using.

Sports Gambling: Coming Soon

This week, the Supreme Court of the United States ruled unconstitutional the Professional and Amateur Sports Protection Act, signed into law in 1992, on federalism grounds. The result? It will likely now be up to each individual state to determine whether sports gambling will be legal within that state. Given the expected revenue, it’s hard to imagine most states won’t move quickly to legalize it. But what of the consequences? The ripple effect is hard to even comprehend. Individual families. The Nevada economy, where sports gambling was already legal. Will teams begin offering in seat real time gambling?

Last month I was in Tahoe for a bachelor party, and we spent one evening at the sportsbook. The real-time gambling on baseball was incredible. With each base runner or out, the odds moved like stock prices. Late in a tied game, the smallest events moved the odds dramatically. It was fun enough just to watch the odds swing. We locked in a bet for the Giants to beat the Dodgers in the 7th, and got a solid +145. Soon after, the Giants’ payoff dropped, and we felt like we had free money with our payoff locked in. Yahoo’s Jeff Passan wonders if that will happen pitch by pitch with an app. I can’t see why not – Phil and I do $1 bets on things like that with friends already.

And what about the sports leagues? The NBA and MLB have been openly rooting for this, looking to take a piece of the pie. They are reportedly seeking 1% off the top of all wagers made. Yeah, that’s a lot of money. For decades, MLB has been concerned about how gambling could affect its game (see The 1919 World Series; Pete Rose). But in his article this week, Passan makes an excellent point:

Strong salaries for player tend to be all the integrity they need; the cost of bribery for a millionaire exceeds nearly every gambler’s bankroll. This is nothing more than a cash grab, the leagues calling shotgun on their piece of the pie before others start to understand its enormity. Peel back the lawyer speak and commissioner Rob Manfred’s position always has been clear. He doesn’t see gambling as a panacea but instead an insurance policy. Good economy, bad economy, people gamble. So long as people gamble on baseball, they’ll watch baseball. And the more people watch baseball, the better for the game.

The players make way more money now than gamblers could offer them, so the risk of a player taking cash to throw a game is much lower than it used to be. Passan also suggests the increased money and attention could lead to robot umpires. I dunno. I’ll believe that when I see it. Still, other changes Passan suggests seem likely:

A general manager or head of analytics will leave a team to take a job with a gambling outfit. The Ivy League brains that skipped Wall Street to instead work in sports may now see gambling as the perfect happy medium

As Passan says, “our capacity to gamble is limitless.” It will be fascinating to see where this takes us. -TOB

Source: How Gambling Can Help Make Baseball America’s Pastime Again“, Jeff Passan, Yahoo Sports (05/14/2018)

Augie Baseball Update

After winning the NSIC Tourney, the Vikings beat Pitt St. 9-4 in the first game of the Regionals. Four of the nine runs were earned. Today (Friday, 5/18) they play Emporia State. Go Vikes!


We’re about six weeks into the season. Time to check in on Ohtani’s performance.

3.58 ERA and 6 home runs. NOT BAD! A slash line of .321/.360/.617 for an OPS of .977. VERY GOOD! On pace to be at or near Phil’s benchmarks by the All Star Break.

This has been your Ohtani Watch Update. Thank you. -TOB

Videos of the Week: 

PAL Song of the Week: First Aid Kit – “Emmylou”

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“Close your eyes. Picture a convict. What’s he wearing? Nothing special, baseball cap on backwards, baggy pants. He says something ordinary like, ‘Yo, that’s shizzle.’ Okay. Now slowly open your eyes again. Who are you picturing? A black man? Wrong. That was a white woman. Surprised? Well, shame on you.”

-Michael Scott

Week of May 11, 2018

Augie sticking it to St. Cloud State in the NSIC Tournament, which I should have seen in person. Instead, I’m in Mesa, AZ writing this blog. American Airlines did not have a good day today. 

The Western Conference Finals: A Clash of Contrasting Styles

The Western Conference Finals kick off on Monday, and it should be a doozy. The Warriors, who have made the Finals each of the last three years, having won two titles, against the Rockets, who have stated they were built to beat the Warriors and come in with home court advantage. The Warriors have been there, and the Rockets are coming.

The matchup has been anticipated all season, but some may be surprised to see two offenses that don’t look very much alike. There is a belief in NBA fan and media circles that the Curry/Kerr era Warriors have led a revolution in NBA offense, valuing the three pointer and avoiding the mid-range jumper like never before. It’s a misconception. The Warriors shot 28.9 three-pointers per game this season, just 17th in the league. As Anthony Slater points out in this article, Kerr is actually old school – tailoring his offense to his personnel on the court at any given time. To illustrate, consider: When Curry is on the floor, 39.9% of the Warriors’ shots are three-pointers, which would be third in the league if they averaged that the entire game. But when Curry is off the floor, that number drops to 29.5%, which would be bottom ten in the league. This is because when Curry is off the floor, Shaun Livingston and David West are on the floor. Unlike Curry, Livingston and West excel in the midrange, and so Kerr lets them do their thing, effectively.

Contrast that with the Houston Rockets, who truly implement a team-wide strategy to shoot threes and layups, and avoid the mid-range. This season, 50.2% of the Rockets’ shots were three-pointers, easily an NBA record. But unlike the Warriors, the personnel on the court doesn’t matter. When James Harden missed seven games earlier this season, the team averaged 44.8 three-point attempts per game, more than they averaged with Harden. To further illustrate this, consider Chris Paul. Last year, with the Clippers, Paul shot 322 mid-range shots to just 302 three-pointers, in line with his career numbers. But this year, his first with Houston, he shot 379 three-pointers and just 180 mid-range shots. As Slater notes, “that’s the system overriding the personnel.”

Kerr believes he’s bridging the gap between his mentor, Phil Jackson, and the Rockets’ Mike D’Antoni, who was the coach in Phoenix when Kerr was the General Manager there. I’m not going to look at the series as a referendum on either offensive style. I’m just going to enjoy the hell out of the show. -TOB

Source: The Warriors and Rockets Aren’t as Similar as You Think – It’s a Fascinating Strategic and Stylistic Matchup”, Anthony Slater, The Athletic (05/09/2018)

PAL: Kerr, referring to Curry:

“It reminds me a little bit of (Manu) Ginobili his rookie year with the Spurs. Pop was very disciplined. Ginobili would come down on a 3-on-1 fastbreak, throw a crazy pass out of bounds. Pop would be pulling his hair out. But by the end of the year, Pop got it. For every one of those plays, Ginobili would make five great plays. That 5-to-1 ratio is pretty good. Pop learned to live with Ginobili’s insanity and I quickly learned to live with Steph’s insanity.”

For as blissful as it is to watch Curry play basketball, I’ve witnessed this insanity.

As you can see, that one bad play can be really bad – needlessly difficult, and/or too loose. It would be easy to say that Curry is a basketball genius that shouldn’t be instructed, because what comes naturally to him is better than anything Kerr could teach. That’s not what happened. Kerr will always defer to the player’s talent, but he and the staff worked with Curry on how to move without the ball in order to maximize his awesome shooting talent. Yes, you live with the moments like the one above, but that doesn’t mean the team has sat on its hands with Curry.

TOB covers the really cool breakdown of the differences between the Rockets and the Warriors. I thought Kerr’s insight to fostering Curry’s ability was a fascinating second piece to this story.

TOB: Frankly, Draymond should have caught that pass. And for every Curry play like that, there are five like this:

Ok, maybe not five like that, because that’s incredible.

Actually, Speed Can Be Taught

The secret sauce to being an explosive skater in the NHL just might be figure skating. Like swing coaches for PGA players, many hockey players and NHL teams hire skating coaches like former Canadian figure skating champion Barb Underhill. There’s also Laura Stamm, who worked with the Islanders in the 70s, and Dawn Braid. It’s not just at the NHL level either. Diane Ness has built a small skating empire in Minnesota with Pro Edge Skating.

As Joe Smith writes, Tiger Woods helped Underhill see the potential for her to help hockey players. Aside from being the mother to a couple hockey players, it was seeing a split screen of Tiger Woods and her husband’s respective golf swings.

“I said, ‘Wow, you can see the difference when it’s side by side. I’ve just got to find my Tiger Woods.”

Underhill thought of retired Rangers forward Mike Gartner, long considered among the most gifted skaters in the league. She called Gartner and asked if she could film him skating. He said yes.

While figure skates and hockey skates are very different beasts, the power for each type of skating comes from the same mechanics and efficiencies. By teaching these mechanics and efficiencies, Underhill has helped Brayden Point go from an average skater to an elite skater – one that almost beat the fastest man on skates, Connor McDavid, in a race. Think about that for a second. You are not going to take a football player – either kind of football – with average speed and turn him into a blazer. That just doesn’t happen in other sports. Speed isn’t taught like it can be in hockey. That’s a fascinating distinction! – PAL

Source: The Woman Behind Some of the NHL’s Fastest Teams”, Joe Smith, The Athletic (05/9/2018)

Soulless Surfing  

We’ve got ourselves a real pickle here, folks. Of course, most of us are massive surf fans and watch the pro circuit (I could look up the name, but then I’d lose the sarcastic point I’m trying to make). While most of us aren’t serious surf fans…or even surfers, I think we all can appreciate the sport.

Perhaps unlike any other sport, nature plays a massive role in surfing competitions. Obviously, it determines where competitions are held. It also determines the quality of a competition and even the existence of a competition. No swell = no competition.

That was until the Wayne Gretzky of surfing, Kelly Slater, helped usher us into the future of surfing: a man-made wave created by a 100-ton mass of weight pushing through a 400-yard pool over 100 miles away from the ocean. There have been artificial waves before, but nothing like this:

At first blush, this is all wrong. Is a tube ride at all compelling in a pool? Where is the cerebral part of surfing. A huge part of the sport – whether you’re Slater or a nobody – is being able to read the ocean. It’s not enough to pick a set on the horizon; rather, you gotta know if it’s wave two or three that’s the best wave with the most power. All of this is gone in a wave pool. Don’t even get me started on the conditioning needed in the ocean to paddle out to your wave. Unlike baseball or basketball or hockey, there is a connection to the big, powerful world of nature inherent in the sport of surfing. That does not exist in the pool, and that’s a bummer.

You know what’s not a bummer? Being a surfing fan during a pool competition. You can watch idols not from ½ a mile away through binoculars, but along the length of the wave like fans at a hockey game. What’s more, it’s a hell of a lot more TV friendly (see: reliable). And one could argue that by removing the variable of wave consistency, we actually see skill vs. skill.

And perhaps most important of all is the fact that surfing is an Olympic sport in 2020, for the first time. Japan lacks the consistent natural wave that one might find on the North Shore of Oahu. The stakes might simply be too high for the sport to leave it to nature. In order to showcase the athletes, likely Olympians – even those who are on the fence about the man-made wave – agree that the Olympics should be held on a man-made wave.

At its core, I would suggest that what makes surfing so goddamn cool and appealing is that it doesn’t happen in Nebraska. Surfing only happens is idyllic places, and that’s romantic, that’s its special place in pop culture. And while the growth of the sport no doubt stands to benefit from Slater’s pools (and – my god – he’s going to make so much money on this), the spirit of perhaps the zen sport is being eroded in chlorine. This is a great read. Stop reading what I have to say, and read Brent Rose’s kick-ass story. – PAL

Source: “Is The First Pro Surfing Contest In A Wave Pool The Sport’s Future, Or Its Bastardization?”, Brent Rose, Deadspin (05/9/2018)

TOB: As Phil points out, this is an interesting conundrum: what is lost in the sport of surfing when you take the unpredictability of nature out of it? Anything? Everything? As I read it, I went back and forth on this. Finally I came to a conclusion: surfing stops being zen and loses its romantic connection to nature when you put it in the context of competition. This affects a small number of surfers in the world, and only in the context of competition and winning prize money. But it doesn’t change the sport for the vast majority of surfers who get up before dawn every day to catch some swells, brah.

The Neverending But Fun Debate: Jordan vs. LeBron

As LeBron carries his team to perhaps another NBA Finals appearance, which would be his 8th in a row, the clamor to determine who is better, Jordan or LeBron, continues to rise. I’m not sure there’s a right answer – and I’m not sure I have my own decision, but I did enjoy this article by Kevin Pelton, who attempts to answer the question statistically with a stat he invented a few years back called Championships Added. It’s a bit like WAR in baseball. It’s a fascinating article, and I recommend you read it, but here’s the short of Pelton’s conclusion:

Peak: Jordan’s peak was the best ever: the 1990-91 Season with a 0.70 Championship Added. LeBron’s best comes close, 0.62.

Career: LeBron takes it here, especially when you account for strength of league. Pelton argues the NBA is stronger now, in part due to a much wider pool of players (read: non-American). When not accounting for strength of league, Jordan still holds a slight edge over LeBron, but LeBron could pass him as soon as this season depending on how these playoffs shakeout.

Pelton points out another interesting issue: when you go by the age of each instead of the number of seasons, LeBron is way out in front of Jordan. That, of course, is because LeBron started at 18 while Jordan started at 21.

As Pelton concludes, “A team drafting James’ entire career would assure itself championship contention for more than a decade given his metronomic consistency and ability to avoid injury. Jordan might have been better at his best, but James has already put together the best NBA career we’ve ever seen.”

I find it hard to argue with that conclusion. Jordan at his peak was better, but LeBron did more over the course of his career – and he doesn’t even show any signs of slowing down yet. Jordan fans will argue he went 6-for-6 in the Finals, but that means he didn’t make the Finals 9 times (7 times if you ignore his two seasons with the Wizards). Meanwhile, LeBron has made the finals 8 times in 14 seasons, and could make it 9 in 15 this year. Making the Finals and losing is a lot better than losing before the Finals.

What’s remarkable to me about LeBron is that this debate is even close enough to have. When Jordan retired, people figured we’d never see a player better than him. As it turned out, we didn’t have to wait long: LeBron’s career began the season after Jordan’s career ended (for good). On top of that is the fact LeBron did it in the face of unbearable expectations:

And LeBron has done it without a sniff of legal or personal trouble. So, I’m with Pelton. Give me Jordan for one year, give me LeBron for his career. -TOB

Source: LeBron or MJ? How the King is Settling the GOAT Debate”, Kevin Pelton, ESPN, (05/10/2018)

PAL: I guess we have to call TOB’s love for James what it is at this point: a LeBoner.

TOB: How dare you.

NBA Player Nicknames in China

The title says it all: the funny nicknames people in China have given to NBA players. This started as a string of tweets. The writer then put a few of them into an article. There are some great ones, and I suggest you check his twitter feed for a lot more, but this is my favorite:

Steph Curry probably has more nicknames than any current NBA player except for LeBron. Many of these nicknames play on his relatively small size for a basketball player, including “The Elementary School Student” (小学生) and 萌神, which literally translates as “Sprout God,” but might more naturally be translated as “Adorable God,” since the Chinese character for “sprout” is a reference to the Japanese concept of “Moe” (萌え), describing feelings of affection and protectiveness for small, cute things.

But Curry’s most interesting Chinese nickname is “Steph Skyfucker” (库昊), which derives from an elaborate series of interlocking visual and verbal puns. It turns out that Chinese also has the phrase “the sky’s the limit” (天空是极限), just like in English. Over time “breaking through the sky” (捅破天) became a way to describe someone who vastly exceeded all expectations. However, in other contexts, the same characters for “breaking through” can be a vulgar slang term for “fuck.” Since Curry defied all expectations to become a superstar, people started saying he had broken through the sky—or fucked it.

Skyfucker it is. -TOB

Source: “Sprout God, Porcelain Mamba, And Six-Step LeBron: The Stories Behind China’s Best NBA Nicknames“, Nick Kapur, Deadspin (05/11/2018)

Videos of the Week: 

PAL Song of the Week: Wings – “Arrow Through Me”

Tweets of the Week

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