The Night of The Great Forty Two

Last night, on Jackie Robinson Night at Nationals Park, I could not resist the temptation of going to my first game of the year. It was a beautiful night for baseball and I was hoping that the uniform number of 42 (that every player wore) would especially inspire the home town Nats to new heights. Unfortunately, the energy and spirit that propelled Jackie every day in his iconic 42 did not affect the Nats’ performance. The new, Harper-less version of the Nats seemed instead to be passive and lethargic.

The one point last night that brought the crowd to its feet was Trevor Rosenthal’s relief appearance in the eighth inning (Trevor is perhaps the only current Rosen-person in major league baseball). Fans cheered (and held back their boos) as he struggled with the control of his rocket-speed fast ball to lower his Earned Run Average from a titanic 72.00 to the low forties. He may have saved his career (for now) last night, and the fans welcomed his energy, effort, and flair for the dramatic.

Here’s hoping that the memories of Jackie’s greatness will soon propel the Nats to better nights ahead.

25 Years and Counting

Last week, we witnessed an amazing international 25th Anniversary concert of the very talented German and American musicians of McLean High School and Detmold's Grabbe Gymnasium playing to their peak in a varied concert from Tchaikovsky to Bernstein, with many great composers in between. The soloists were outstanding, the conducting was inspiring, and the friendships and partnerships evident on stage filled the auditorium with warmth and energy that stretched across the Atlantic. It is a privilege to be even a small part of this ongoing exchange.

Reflections on Bryce and the Price

Watching Bryce don a Phillies’ uniform and cozying up to Philly officials yesterday, I could not help but to flash back to one of Bryce’s early games, and the first time I saw him play. It was on May 6, 2012, a Sunday evening game, and I remember it as if it was yesterday.

Bryce then was a brash, swaggering and somewhat over-hyped 19 year-young rookie who clearly loved the game of baseball and played it with great potential and a somewhat reckless abandon. Three years earlier as a high school prospect he was on the cover of Sports Illustrated, calling him “Baseball’s Chosen One” and the inside article entitled “Baseball’s Lebron,” led with the following words:

"His name is Bryce Harper. You don't know him, but every big league scouting director does. He hits the ball a desert mile, clocks 96 on the gun, and he's only 16, more advanced than A-Rod and Junior were at the same age. And his ambition is as great as his talent."

On that Sunday night TV’s Game of the Week, with a swelled TV audience, the eighth big league game of his career, Bryce was to face Cole Hamels, an (up-to-then) classy Phillies ace lefty. Harper strode to the plate for his first taste of this epic battle--seasoned ace vs. brash, highly-touted rookie--with a sense of entitlement that may have rattled even the veteran Hamels. His walk-up music loudly played in the background--equally brash and percussive.

There was a sense of excitement and expectation that noisily filled that night air of the four-year old DC stadium; the fans rising in unison to greet the unlimited potential of this spirited rookie. For DC and its fans, that night, in just its seventh year of major league baseball after a drought of more than forty years, it was a just reward for all that patient wait, and road trips to Baltimore to take in the nearest major league play. Could it truly be the start of a new era for this revitalized Federal City?

Cole Hamels was known for his pinpoint control when he wanted it, and the fans sensed that he wanted it for this battle. With his control intact, Bryce was quickly taken down, plunked in the small of his back near the numbers with a message from Hamel, a 93-mile-per-hour fastball. The fans loudly gasped at the moment and quickly recovered—fighting back with a loud chorus of boos at this brazenly-cowardly turn of events.

The TV announcers shared that stunned moment with a sense of shock, and one commented (prophetically perhaps) that Bryce was hit in the wallet. They remarked that Hamels was sending a pitched message to the youngster that this was still a game owned by an earlier generation of established stars and you, brash youngster will need to earn a place to play in their game.

Bryce quickly brushed himself off and strode to first quickly, taking a wide lead, and Bryce was quickly driven to third by a sharp single by ex-Philly Jason Werth (who might have later steered Bryce towards his signing with the Phillies). At third, Bryce studied Hamel’ pitching stance, and quickly stole home on the Phillies ace—a rare treat for the now screaming hometown fans. The rookie gave notice that night that he would earn his place in the game. The Phillies ultimately won the game 9 to 3, but Bryce singled sharply in his next at bat against Hamels, and Hamels later had to serve a five-day suspension for his purposeful deed (some thought that Hamels should have been suspended for a longer time).

“I was trying to hit him,” Hamels told reporters after the game. “I’m not going to deny it. It’s something I grew up watching. That’s what happened. I’m just trying to continue the old baseball.” Washington General Manager Mike Rizzo was clearly hot and not appreciative of Hamels’s so-called tribute to a bygone baseball time. In comments to The Washington Post, Rizzo said he had “never seen a more classless, gutless” act in his 30 years in baseball, and added: “Cole Hamels says he’s old school? He’s the polar opposite of old school. He’s fake tough.”

It made a mark on me that night, when a veteran of a rival team needed to send a fast ball message to the back of a gifted rookie that could have physically harmed his career. I know that baseball is a kid’s game played by grownups as a business, but remembering the bush league act of a Phillie made Harper’s signing with the Phillies for the highest salary in North American professional sports history, a little bit harder to take in baseball’s latest turn of events.

P.S. What bothers me the most about the Harper deal is its ultimate effects on the fans and the players. All overpriced, long-terms baseball contracts as pointed out by Bill Madden in today's NY Daily News --the Yankees re-signing Alex Rodriguez for 10 years/$275M in 2007, Texas signing an initial deal with A-Rod deal for 10 years/$252M in 2000, the Tigers signing Prince Fielder for nine years/$214M in 2012 and extending Miguel Cabrera for 10 years/$292M in 2014, the Angels signing Albert Pujols for 10-years/$254M in 2011, the Marlins signing Giancarlo Stanton to his 13-year/$325M deal in 2014. Even going back to 1996, the White Sox set a new contract record with a five-year/$55M deal for Albert Belle. All of these contracts ultimately failed and most led to keeping the players in prominent roles past their prime, and kept younger players in the minors or in bench roles. And ultimately, I believe they resulted in more over-priced deals and caused owners to raise ticket prices.

So, when Bryce talks about his middle class family roots, I ironically think about how his contract may result in less families being able to afford the price of baseball tickets, and see him play. But maybe I am just being another unrealistic and idealistic fan of baseball, America's beloved (or used to be at least) pastime, and I am fine with that.

The Green Green Grass of Promise

As the first games of spring training were played on Friday and Saturday on lush green fields, spring poked its early head out a little on a short exploratory mission, and the full reawakening from winter cannot be far behind. Those green fields were so impressive to me as a child when I attended my first few Major League games. Growing up In a black and white world of two-dimensional, binary TVs and newspaper articles, the vast uninterrupted expanses of green outfields always beckoned to me and stirred in me an excitement of great possibilities. Even though ace pitchers like the great competitor, Max Scherzer, are being held to a 30 or so pitch limit in these early spring games, you could sense how much he wants to break out and move ahead to full competition, and all the promise that might hold. Out of icy, winter mix days of February, hope and promise lie ahead.

Master Craftsman

Don Newcombe passed away at 92. He was a civil rights pioneer, a 27 game winner, and a durable and often overpowering pitcher, who was one of baseball’s greatest hitting pitchers. He had back-to-back years with 20-5 and 27-7 records, and in one of those legendary years, hit seven homers and batted 359. He had a lifetime won-loss percentage of .623, and a lifetime batting average of 271. Don Newcombe, was the first of only two players in baseball history to win Rookie of the Year (in 1949), and the Most Valuable Player and Cy Young Award honors (in 1956); the other player is Justin Verlander.

After spending two years in military service, Newcombe returned to baseball in 1954, disappointed to find that various aspects of baseball, including team road trips were still subject to segregation. He and Jackie Robinson spoke out successfully to help lift a number of racial barriers. Late in his career, when faced with a drinking problem, he successfully turned his life around to give up drinking, and, in retirement, became baseball's foremost counselor for players in their battles against alcohol and substance abuse.

He was truly a great competitor (in so many respects), and a craftsman, and I was lucky enough to witness several of his pitching and hitting masterpieces.

“Because the night belongs to us.”

Yes, it was a clear, crisp, and cold Saturday night, and I knew, after a while, that it was a night to hear some Bruce-like sounds.  Maybe it felt this way because it was a cold night like a “Tenth Avenue Freeze Out,” or maybe it was a night to be “Dancing in the Dark.”  Whatever it was, it was somehow in the air scattered about my hometown. 

A few nights ago, I heard that songwriters Cynthia Weill and Barry Mann wrote “We Gotta Get Out of This Place” recorded by Eric Burden and the Animals, an emotional anthem of the late 60s that was a great influence on Bruce Springsteen and his Born to Run spirit.  Many years ago, I interviewed Barry Mann for the Good Times magazine—still going strong in Long Island at 50 years.  Barry and I really hit it off that day, and it felt like a special interview.  We spent several hours exchanging ideas about what was great rock music, and we explored, in some small way, the mysteries of how it was created.  That day, I felt like I tapped into the source of some great rock and this special connection to Barry Mann, thereby connected me to Bruce as if I introduced Bruce to the Mann/Weill song. 

Tonight, a few blocks from my home, on a nearby hometown-main street, Bruce in the USA, a Bruce cover band was playing at the local State Theatre.  I have to admit that I always feel a little ambivalent about cover bands, because true rock seems unbounded, and a cover band tends to imitate and stay within its boundaries.  So I was ambivalent, and did not buy tickets in advance.  When I got to the State Theatre and waited in line, I ran into an old friend who I had not seen for a while, so it was already a good night. But the cover band was sold out, and I would not be hearing live Bruce-like sounds tonight.     

So, I returned home, determined still to have a Bruce night somehow, somewhere.  I put on “Bruce on Broadway” on TV, and got my night out with Bruce in the USA—not quite live, but somewhat personal-- sharing his hopes, his dreams, his family tales, his home town, and a good number of his songs.  Not a bad evening after all, the night indeed did belong to us. 

Frank Robinson, A Legendary Player/Manager

Frank Robinson passed away today at the age of 83. He had a 51-year long and storied career as a baseball player, manager, and executive. He was the rookie of the year at 20, and the first to win the Most Valuable Player (MVP) award in both leagues. In 1966, one of his MVP years, he won the Triple Crown, and helped bring Baltimore its first World Series championship. Wherever he played, from Cincy, to Baltimore, to LA, to Cleveland he brought his powerful bat, his graceful fielding, and his warm-hearted yet hard-working attitude. He became the first African-American manager in baseball as a player-manager in Cleveland, and became the first Nats manager in DC. In the DC/Baltimore area, we were privileged to witness many of his accomplishments and his continual drive for excellence. He made his mark with greatness and we will miss him.