Congratulations, Hawk!

Sorry for the lack of posts lately - life has been a little crazy. Still, I couldn't let Andre Dawson's induction into the Hall of Fame go by without comment. I grew up on the Sandberg Cubs and Andre Dawson was a big part of that era.

In honor of his enshrinement, I wanted to pass along this video that our friends over at Waxpaperbeercup unearthed today. This is part 2 of 2. (You can find part one here.)

At the one-minute mark, Dawson takes a pitch to the face. He lies face-down on the ground for some time while the Cubs' bench and bullpen storm out onto the field. At two minutes and 15 seconds, the Hawk wakes up and then - over a minute after getting plunked - he charges the mound.

This moment in baseball history has always been a part of my mental history of the game, but seeing it in real time again after all these years...well, it was even better than I remembered.

So, for this moment and oh so many more, thank you Hawk! You weren't a Cub for long - but you sure made an impression.

Doe Tubs Doe!

It's been a while since I've posted, and it'll likely be some time before I post again. It's certainly not because baseball has been boring lately.

We've had some exciting young players called up from the minors - including professional body-builder Mike Stanton, former guitar-rocker Carlos Santana and god-amongst-men Stephen Strasburg. This is what happens when 38-year-old journeymen are no longer allowed to stick needles in their butts.

We've seen 3 perfect games thrown since my last post and one of those nullified by one of the worst calls in the history of the game. (Side note: Armando Gallaraga's heart-breaking effort against the Cleveland Indians embodied all that this blog stands for - and is under consideration for official Imperfect Game mascot status.)

We've even had a minor league baseball team refuse to take their traditional practice swings prior to game because they're taking a stand against "BP".

Unfortunately, all that and more has fallen by the wayside as I celebrate the birth of my second child, Reid Michael Powers. I'm afraid there is just too much to do at home to worry about blogging. After all, the trick to ensuring that they become Cub fans for life is getting to them when they're young.

As the audio file below shows, it certainly has worked for my 2-year-old daughter, Allegra.

Doe Tubs Doe!

Baseball Is A Touching Sport

An avid reader of this blog recently sent me a link to a New York Times article that she thought might make for a good post. The article, "Evidence That Little Touches Do Mean So Much" centered around various forms of non-verbal communication and the messages that they can convey.

The article cites numerous research studies from scientists at Berkeley, Cal, DePauw University in Indiana and even the Touch Research Institute (but of course) in Miami. These studies show that something as simple as a handshake or an arm around the shoulder can carry significant meaning and have a profound impact on the recipient of such gestures.

They even delved into the extremely touchy sport of basketball, where every free throw (made or missed) merits multiple fist bumps, high-fives and occasionally a flying chest-bump.

Like basketball, the sport of baseball has its own rich tradition of physical contact whether it be a pat on the back after a tough strikeout or a catcher leaping into the arms of the pitcher who just threw a no-hitter. I think the power of those touches is readily apparent.

It's all that other touching that I have to wonder about. Most of it would best be described as a far-too-low "pat on the back". This form of non-verbal baseball communication can mean many things to many different players.

Sometimes it's to celebrate a big play:

Sometimes it's just to let a guy know that you care:

Or that you're behind him 100%:

Maybe its a way to share that something extra with your buddy:

Or let a rival know they have your respect:

While butt-slaps, ass-grabs and cheek-cupping seem to be a time-honored tradition, there have also been some instances where players get things, well, backwards. I call this the very VERY low five.

All I can say to that is "Play ball!"

Back in elementary school, we were taught that any touching in the "bathing suit zone" was off limits. In baseball, these touches are (mostly) innocent. But I'm telling you, you get a little slap here, a tiny grab there, and before you know it, things are out of control. Don't believe me? Need I trot out my favorite inappropriate baseball touching moment of all-time? Fine! I warned you!

I give you The Dominican Oil Change (always a crowd-pleaser):

Now THAT is how you celebrate a home run (in prison).

Tazers, Revenge, Death & Of Course, Milton Bradley

It's time for one of my extra-special catch-up posts, where I try to make up for a lack of blogging by throwing 4 or 5 disparate subjects together into one crazy post.

Tazers

By now everyone in baseball-loving America and beyond has seen or heard about the foolish young man who stormed the field at Philadelphia's Citizen's Bank Ballpark.

According to his father, the 17-year old Phillies fan (what is it with the City of Brotherly Love, anyway?) was not drinking nor was he on drugs. In fact, he called his dad prior to the incident to see if pops thought it would be a good idea to storm the field. His dad agreed that while a terribly stupid idea, it would be a once-in-a-lifetime event.

Phillies security obliged by ensuring that the young man's adventure would live forever in the hallowed halls of YouTube.

If you haven't seen the footage, here you go:

Should the kid have run on to the field? No. Of course not, sit in your seat and watch the game. Should the security officer have tazed him? Absolutely! Did you watch the footage? There's no way that guy was going to catch that kid otherwise. I don't see why he didn't just execute him on the spot. That would have taught everyone a lesson. (/sarcasm)

Revenge

There is a fantastic article on ESPN by Jerry Crasnick about the various unwritten rules of baseball and when the opposing pitcher should or should not retaliate. The article was likely came about in response to Dallas Braden's outburst earlier this season (see my article on this subject here).

To sum up Crasnick's discussion with Hall-of-Famers Jim Palmer, Bert Blyleven and Goose Gossage, I put together this handy-dandy written unwritten rule book:

If a batter or baserunner...

1. Admires a home run = Fastball to the ribs

2. Flips their bat = Fastball to the ribs

3. Trots too slowly on a home run = Fastball to the ribs

4. Steps on the mound = Who cares? Oh right, Dallas Braden

5. Calls timeout in your windup = Fastball to the ribs

6. Peeks at the catcher's signs = Fastball to the side of the head

7. Gets hit by a pitch on purpose = Hit them with a harder pitch

8. Take a homerun swing at a 3-0 pitch = Fastball in your ear

And God forbid one of your guys takes a fastball to the ribs, your pitcher damn well better return the favor.

If more pitchers these days followed "the rules", you'd see a lot less of this crap:

Death

Legendary Detroit Tigers broadcaster, Ernie Harwell, passed away yesterday at the age of 92. He had been battling terminal cancer for several months. I didn't know his name, nor did I recognize the pictures they showed on ESPN.

Still, when I heard a clip of him speaking I was instantly transported to the baseball of my youth.

Signing off on his final game back in 2002, Harwell put it as well as any broadcaster can:

"...Rather than goodbye, please allow me to say thank you. Thank you for letting me be a part of your family. Thank you for taking me with you to that cottage up north, to the beach, the picnic, your work place and your backyard. Thank you for sneaking your transistor under the pillow as you grew up loving the Tigers. Now, I might have been a small part of your life. But you've been a very large part of mine. And it's my privilege and honor to share with you the greatest game of all."

Now, that's class. Hey, speaking of class...

Milton Bradley

Seattle Mariners outfielder and patron saint of Imperfect Game, Milton Bradley, had quite a game last night. After striking out earlier in the game, Bradley came up with the bases loaded and his team trailing 3-1. With two strikes, Milton watched a fastball cruise right over the fat part of the plate for strike three.

That's when Mariners' manager Don Wakamatsu decided to pull Milton Bradley from the game. Bradley was so upset he left the dugout, stormed out of the clubhouse and left the stadium in a huff - before the game was over!

Now, I can't argue that Wakamatsu was right to pull his newly installed cleanup hitter after just six-innings and 2 strikeouts. I can argue - and rather successfully at that - that Milton Bradley is a childish a-hole and a cancer on whatever team decides to take a chance on him.

Said Wakamatsu after the game: "We talk about coming together as a club. We're kind of at a point right now, where, watching that game, I don't know if anyone in the clubhouse is proud of it. ... And some of those things we're going to address and fix. I promise you that."

Way to go, Don. Step one is admitting you have a problem. Step two is trading Milton Bradley to some unsuspecting sucker.

Oh yeah, the Cubs say "Thank you!"

Bust-a Buster?

For the last several years, the Bay area has been a-buzz about Giant's catching prospect Buster Posey (born Gerald Demp Posey III). Now word has begun to circulate (via the San Francisco Gate) that the young stud may soon be making his official debut with the big boys.

While news of a minor league player being called up to the Show is exciting in and of itself, the real news here is that the Giants would be making this move despite the fact that it could end up costing them millions more than if they waited just a month or two longer.

Baseball is no stranger to complex rules and regulations. Among the more byzantine systems is the one that determines how much control a team has over their minor league players and how long that control should last. I could go on and on about Arbitration and Super-Two status, but I would only lose my audience and bore myself in the process.

Jeff Passan of Yahoo! Sports breaks it down as succinctly as possible: "If a team parks a player in the minor leagues for at least 20 days to begin the season, it can delay his free agency by one year. Teams looking to save money go a step further and keep players down for about two months, which prevents them from gaining the Super 2 status that gives the top 17 percent of any service class an extra year of salary arbitration."

Translation: A few months' wait saves the Giants millions of dollars over the long run.

Most teams are patient enough to keep their young stars down in the minors, babying them long enough and throwing around excuses like "he's working on his fundamentals" or "he's learning how to work the count" or "he's figuring out what it takes to manage a staff."

All of that is pure, grade-A bull.

The team knows they can save money - a lot of money - and what's more they should want to save money. The way the system is currently set up, teams are rewarded for keeping some of their best players from playing at the big league level. Does this help them win games? No. Is it fun for the fans? Nope. Is it good for the players? No, in fact it sucks most for them. The worst part is, it's bad for the game of baseball.

Right now, Stephen Strasburg (Best. Prospect. Ever.), is throwing 5-inning no-hitters for the AA Harrisburg Senators. Despite only a handful of starts since being drafted it's already clear that he's good enough for the Majors. What's more he would be the #2 or #3 starter on a lot of teams right now. He would certainly be the best pitcher the Washington Nationals have EVER had. So, why is he in the minors? According to the team it's so he can "learn to slow his delivery with men on base." That's hard to do when he's not allowing any baserunners.

For every Jason Heyward (who broke camp with the Atlanta Braves this season despite the escalating future costs) there are literally dozens of good players that languish on bus rides across the country paying their minor league dues long after the tab has been settled.

Should the Giants call up Buster Posey tomorrow? Hell yes! He'd immediately take over for an ice-cold Aubrey Huff at first base and could spell a super-hot Bengie Molina behind the plate. He could play every day and help San Francisco win more games. And if not for the millions of dollars it would end up costing the team, the team would have done it yesterday.

So, when the Giants end up missing the playoffs by a game, don't blame the management for not calling in the reinforcements sooner. Blame the system, man!

Or just blame Bud Selig. That's what I always do.