...took steroids. What a shock.
Ironically enough, the first ever post by the Sports Maunderer (he had not even been named as such yet) was also about David Ortiz. So the last post on this particular incarnation of the Sports Maunderer brigns with it a certain amount of symmetry. Why the last, you say? Because the Sports Maunderer has moved.
Across the street, but still, it is a move. Instead of http://sportsrantblog.blogspot.com/, which was always a silly hyperlink, the blog shall now be located at http://thesportsmaunderer.blogspot.com/, a longer but more eponymous title.
In addition, I will re-post some of the few entries that actually stand up to the test of time in the new venue, to get it started. Then I will undoubtedly write a self-righteous, self-serious, existential piece about whether a sports blog is in any way a useful pursuit. Buy a helmet to protect yourself (preferably one of the long, alien-head helmets they use at the Tour de France for time trials sprinting. This way, you will also be getting a Halloween costume for free.)
This blog will stay afloat as the Archive, and I'll have a link to it on the new blog if, for some reason, you want to refresh yourself on what moronic thing I said about the Indianapolis Colts half-way through the 2007 season. Never know when such information will come in handy.
And so, I bid thee adieu.
And Rick Sutcliff is still an idiot.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Categories are for Sissies.
While *other* bloggers have stooped to compartmentalizing and, dare I say it, organizing their posts such that it might imply an official mien, or a respectable writing outlet, or some type of order in their nutty universe, we here at the Sports Maunderer will of course never do such a thing. The Sports Maunderer does not organize. He maunders.
In that spirit, this post has no purpose nor coherence. No cogent thoughts shall emerge, no syllogisms shall be constructed, nothing shall be told in careful detail (and certainly not perspicuous detail) and most of it will make no sense.
I know this won't scare any of the Sports Maunderer's vast readership away, because if such a post scared them away, they would have been lost back when the first post was unleashed upon the world (sorry about that, by the way).
Joba Chamberlain bites on a mouth guard to relax his face. No word on why exactly his face is the thing needing relaxing.
Nick Swisher needs a haircut.
Did you hear B**** F**** might be looking to play with the Vikings but--oh wait, nevermind, he isn't anymore! Little known fact. And I see the Sports Maunderer's self-censor is working perfectly.
Alberto Contador is only five years away from tying Lance. And only six from beating him. I rarely root for the Spanish agaisnt Americans, but I guess if they are going to get a little revenge for 1899, this isn't a bad way to do it.
The Sports Maunderer just realized he could do a running blog of a Yankee game now that he owns a beautiful portable computer. This will happen. The question is only when. Nominations for dates, times, starting pitchers, opponents, etc. will be accepted in the comments.
A-Rod is a ballplayer.
The Yankees away uniforms seem to have been shrunk. The inner workings of Jeter's gluteus maximus.... well... not something I am interested in. I suppose some females might disagree.
Not to harp on this categorizing/labeling/organizing thing, but, yeah, I'm going to harp on it. It's The Man winning. The Man is winning.
Did you know Kate Hudson was a baseball fan? I sure didn't.
In that spirit, this post has no purpose nor coherence. No cogent thoughts shall emerge, no syllogisms shall be constructed, nothing shall be told in careful detail (and certainly not perspicuous detail) and most of it will make no sense.
I know this won't scare any of the Sports Maunderer's vast readership away, because if such a post scared them away, they would have been lost back when the first post was unleashed upon the world (sorry about that, by the way).
Joba Chamberlain bites on a mouth guard to relax his face. No word on why exactly his face is the thing needing relaxing.
Nick Swisher needs a haircut.
Did you hear B**** F**** might be looking to play with the Vikings but--oh wait, nevermind, he isn't anymore! Little known fact. And I see the Sports Maunderer's self-censor is working perfectly.
Alberto Contador is only five years away from tying Lance. And only six from beating him. I rarely root for the Spanish agaisnt Americans, but I guess if they are going to get a little revenge for 1899, this isn't a bad way to do it.
The Sports Maunderer just realized he could do a running blog of a Yankee game now that he owns a beautiful portable computer. This will happen. The question is only when. Nominations for dates, times, starting pitchers, opponents, etc. will be accepted in the comments.
A-Rod is a ballplayer.
The Yankees away uniforms seem to have been shrunk. The inner workings of Jeter's gluteus maximus.... well... not something I am interested in. I suppose some females might disagree.
Not to harp on this categorizing/labeling/organizing thing, but, yeah, I'm going to harp on it. It's The Man winning. The Man is winning.
Did you know Kate Hudson was a baseball fan? I sure didn't.
The Lakers signed Ron Artest and the Celtics signed Rasheed Wallace. Neither of these moves are particularly strong basketball moves, so one is left to believe they are trying to outdo each other in the "who does everyone hate more" department.
Everyone hates the Lakers more. Everyone.
The Phillies traded for Cliff Lee. The Yankees should have done this, if only to keep the Phillies from doing it. Now the Phillies are a semi-respectable NL team. The problem with semi-respectable NL teams is that the far superior AL teams reach the World Series exhausted after brutal battles with other far superior AL teams, and whoever reaches the World Series from the NL has only the distinction of somehow managing to be not as bad as everyone else. So a semi-respectable NL team is one that, given much more rest and much less stress (look up the Yankees lineup. Then look up the Rockies lineup. Tell me who you are having more trouble with in the division round) might be able to steal the World Series from the far superior team. Notice examples such as the Cardinals and Phillies in recent years. Even the Marlins, in 2003, won a game 1 they had no business winning because the Yankees had just been through the most intense ALCS ever. But the Marlins were legitimate. They were good. Yanks still should have won (*grumble grumble grumble*) but they had Josh Beckett, A.J. Burnett and Carl Pavano before he was a corpse. I mean... not a bad starting three. The Marlins were good.
The Cardinals were not. Neither, really, were the Phillies. And now that the Phillies are slightly kind of maybe just a wee bit decent, they have a serious shot at knocking off whoever comes out of the epic struggle that is the AL.
Guess it's time to wrap up, but did you know Mark Harmon sported a mustache on a few NCIS episodes? Disturbing.
Oh. And Rick Sutcliff is still an idiot.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Sunday, July 19, 2009
The Tour de--what?
It isn’t easy to pique The Sports Maunderer’s interest in a new sport. It isn’t even easy to convince him that said activity is a sport. There has never been a near miss quite like the Tour de France, though.
While never denying the nearly super-human ability it requires to bicycle through the Alps (Hannibal had elephants to ride on and even he found it difficult), the Tour de France seemed like a less interesting NASCAR, which itself is neither a sport nor particularly interesting.
He was nearly converted, though, when he discovered that the Tour de France is, in fact, a sport. Most bike-racing probably is not, but this particular race involves that often forgotten but always essential element of sport: defense.
Turns out, not only is it a team sport, but riders actively attempt to discourage other riders from doing well, as opposed to merely seeking their own best time and pitting it against everyone else’s. The Sports Maunderer is not yet quite sure about all the ins and outs here, but he has been satisfied by the commentators’ explanations to the point that he is willing to admit the Tour de France into the pantheon of sports.
Which is a great segue into another point: the commentators are good. Not the American ones who speak in stupidese for everyone watching in prime time, but the European blokes who annotate the race live. They manage to explain without patronizing, and in a sport where few people understand much of anything, they still manage to provide salient points that aren’t completely hackneyed. This is particularly difficult when you remember that during the vast majority of the Tour de France, absolutely nothing is happening.
Of course, this is where the problems began. The first few stages were exhilarating. When Astana blew the doors off of everybody in the team time trials, it was fun to watch. When Contador broke away to overtake Lance soon after this—and began a bit of a poop-throwing fight between them—that was interesting.
So here I am, sitting down to watch the Tour, expecting tons of exciting things to happen. Turns out, they don’t. For a whole freaking week, the peloton did nothing. No breakaways, no chasing down the leaders, nothing. I was told to wait for the Alps. That’s where the real action happens.
So The Sports Maunderer waited for the Alps. Turns out, nothing happened the first two days in the Alps, either. But a particular racing advocate was adamant: Sunday is the big day. Turns out it was. Contador annihilated everyone and suddenly the race was over.
WHAT?!
This is like a baseball game being done after 5 and 2/3 innings. This is like ending a football game in the 3rd quarter. Now you might say, some baseball games *are* practically over by then and the same goes for football. But not when they were ridiculously close until twenty seconds earlier! And even if it happens once upon a time, it isn’t the expected result. The Tour de France yanked me around like I don’t think I have ever been yanked before.
Sure, it is cool to see Lance Armstrong get brutally slapped down by just about anyone, and I now root for Contador to break Lance’s record of 7 tour victories (not that I am claiming this is even remotely possible, I’m just saying), but I mean… that’s it?! It’s over?!
It’s like if in the middle of this entry, I just
While never denying the nearly super-human ability it requires to bicycle through the Alps (Hannibal had elephants to ride on and even he found it difficult), the Tour de France seemed like a less interesting NASCAR, which itself is neither a sport nor particularly interesting.
He was nearly converted, though, when he discovered that the Tour de France is, in fact, a sport. Most bike-racing probably is not, but this particular race involves that often forgotten but always essential element of sport: defense.
Turns out, not only is it a team sport, but riders actively attempt to discourage other riders from doing well, as opposed to merely seeking their own best time and pitting it against everyone else’s. The Sports Maunderer is not yet quite sure about all the ins and outs here, but he has been satisfied by the commentators’ explanations to the point that he is willing to admit the Tour de France into the pantheon of sports.
Which is a great segue into another point: the commentators are good. Not the American ones who speak in stupidese for everyone watching in prime time, but the European blokes who annotate the race live. They manage to explain without patronizing, and in a sport where few people understand much of anything, they still manage to provide salient points that aren’t completely hackneyed. This is particularly difficult when you remember that during the vast majority of the Tour de France, absolutely nothing is happening.
Of course, this is where the problems began. The first few stages were exhilarating. When Astana blew the doors off of everybody in the team time trials, it was fun to watch. When Contador broke away to overtake Lance soon after this—and began a bit of a poop-throwing fight between them—that was interesting.
So here I am, sitting down to watch the Tour, expecting tons of exciting things to happen. Turns out, they don’t. For a whole freaking week, the peloton did nothing. No breakaways, no chasing down the leaders, nothing. I was told to wait for the Alps. That’s where the real action happens.
So The Sports Maunderer waited for the Alps. Turns out, nothing happened the first two days in the Alps, either. But a particular racing advocate was adamant: Sunday is the big day. Turns out it was. Contador annihilated everyone and suddenly the race was over.
WHAT?!
This is like a baseball game being done after 5 and 2/3 innings. This is like ending a football game in the 3rd quarter. Now you might say, some baseball games *are* practically over by then and the same goes for football. But not when they were ridiculously close until twenty seconds earlier! And even if it happens once upon a time, it isn’t the expected result. The Tour de France yanked me around like I don’t think I have ever been yanked before.
Sure, it is cool to see Lance Armstrong get brutally slapped down by just about anyone, and I now root for Contador to break Lance’s record of 7 tour victories (not that I am claiming this is even remotely possible, I’m just saying), but I mean… that’s it?! It’s over?!
It’s like if in the middle of this entry, I just
Thursday, June 11, 2009
An Entire Post on the WNBA!
The Sports Maunderer is not the obnoxious, condescending sexist that many claim him to be. To prove it: an entire post dedicated to the WNBA! Even better, this will not be a post entirely dedicated to lambasting the WNBA (though, most likely, something like that will occasionally occur). In fact, this will be free advice to the WNBA. A WHOLE POST OF FREE ADVICE! (I expect women’s groups to appreciate the effort I’m making here, and fund my future campaign for president.)
I think the biggest problem the WNBA has is one of image. People think it is a slow, boring, overly deliberate, limited game where the most exciting thing you can hope for is that some type of fight breaks out (but it never does).
But plenty of other sports have image problems, also. So why does the WNBA have so much trouble shaking this image? Well I’d say reason #1 is that it is a slow, boring, overly deliberate, limited game where the most exciting thing you can hope for is that some type of fight breaks out (but it never does).
This might seem like a difficult obstacle to overcome. But it is not impossible. The problem is that people expect the WNBA to try to deliver that which it obviously can’t (like, say, excitement). But where is the numero uno culprit here? Their own marketing division. WNBA commercials tell you to
“Expect Passion”
“Expect Excellence”
And, in short,
“Expect Great”
Well, when people want to see great, they are going to be pissed if they don’t get it. The NBA’s advertising for “where amazing happens” is annoying, and it ignores such shenanigans as Dwayne Wade driving to the basket out of control, with no hope for a shot, throwing himself to the floor without actually ever touching anyone, and getting a call for it. But, amazing still does happen. Sure, you have to endure watching the Cavaliers’ putrid “offense” for a while, but at the end of a game you might get to see Lebron make a fadeaway 30 footer for the win. So yes, “where amazing happens” is selective truth, but it is truth.
On the other hand, “Expect Great” is a major problem for two reasons.
1) We watch sports to see the spectacular happen. The very fact that they have to remind us that this is what we should watch for undercuts the premise that we should expect it.
2) More damaging to the premise is that we really shouldn’t expect “great”. The WNBA is just not in the “great” business. “Solid”, “cooperative”, “fundamentals”, etc. These are things the WNBA is good at. Telling people to expect “great” is like Boeing advertising a minivan, then wondering why no one buys its $50 million dollar vehicles.
How to fix this? Simple. Change your advertising. Instead of “expect great”, do this:
Epic voice; gravelly, kind of movie-trailer-esque; slow motion; soaring musical score;
Actually, strike that. The WNBA is already in slow motion, so let’s lose the slow motion part. People won’t be able to tell the difference anyway.
Moving on:
“Expect every dribble to be fundamentally sound. Expect every jumpshot to be fundamentally sound. Expect every pass to be fundamentally sound. Expect solid play everywhere.”
Now, expectations have been lowered. How about another one:
“You think you’ve seen good chest passes before, but you have never seen *insert WNBA player here* make a chest pass. It’s like she practices it every day.”
“Expect sound execution. Expect communication. Expect very good sportsmanship. Expect teammates to work together.”
“Want to see how to correctly perform a left-handed lay up? Watch the Storm take on the Shock this Wednesday on ESPN7.”
You think I’m joking. But I’m not. What does the league have to lose? More people will watch “The Philanthropist” than WNBA games. If they don’t find some way to spice things up, they will die. Self-deprecation is the perfect way to do it, particularly when it isn’t really self-deprecating. They are making fun of their (apt) image, while not losing sight of the fact that there isn’t anything wrong with remembering to jump off your right foot for a left handed lay-up.
And let’s face it, there is only one other way an all female league is going to attract much attention, and I doubt my many female readers would deliver their approbation unto that. So until next time:
The WNBA: where the spectacularly mundane happens.
~The Sports Maunderer~
I think the biggest problem the WNBA has is one of image. People think it is a slow, boring, overly deliberate, limited game where the most exciting thing you can hope for is that some type of fight breaks out (but it never does).
But plenty of other sports have image problems, also. So why does the WNBA have so much trouble shaking this image? Well I’d say reason #1 is that it is a slow, boring, overly deliberate, limited game where the most exciting thing you can hope for is that some type of fight breaks out (but it never does).
This might seem like a difficult obstacle to overcome. But it is not impossible. The problem is that people expect the WNBA to try to deliver that which it obviously can’t (like, say, excitement). But where is the numero uno culprit here? Their own marketing division. WNBA commercials tell you to
“Expect Passion”
“Expect Excellence”
And, in short,
“Expect Great”
Well, when people want to see great, they are going to be pissed if they don’t get it. The NBA’s advertising for “where amazing happens” is annoying, and it ignores such shenanigans as Dwayne Wade driving to the basket out of control, with no hope for a shot, throwing himself to the floor without actually ever touching anyone, and getting a call for it. But, amazing still does happen. Sure, you have to endure watching the Cavaliers’ putrid “offense” for a while, but at the end of a game you might get to see Lebron make a fadeaway 30 footer for the win. So yes, “where amazing happens” is selective truth, but it is truth.
On the other hand, “Expect Great” is a major problem for two reasons.
1) We watch sports to see the spectacular happen. The very fact that they have to remind us that this is what we should watch for undercuts the premise that we should expect it.
2) More damaging to the premise is that we really shouldn’t expect “great”. The WNBA is just not in the “great” business. “Solid”, “cooperative”, “fundamentals”, etc. These are things the WNBA is good at. Telling people to expect “great” is like Boeing advertising a minivan, then wondering why no one buys its $50 million dollar vehicles.
How to fix this? Simple. Change your advertising. Instead of “expect great”, do this:
Epic voice; gravelly, kind of movie-trailer-esque; slow motion; soaring musical score;
Actually, strike that. The WNBA is already in slow motion, so let’s lose the slow motion part. People won’t be able to tell the difference anyway.
Moving on:
“Expect every dribble to be fundamentally sound. Expect every jumpshot to be fundamentally sound. Expect every pass to be fundamentally sound. Expect solid play everywhere.”
Now, expectations have been lowered. How about another one:
“You think you’ve seen good chest passes before, but you have never seen *insert WNBA player here* make a chest pass. It’s like she practices it every day.”
“Expect sound execution. Expect communication. Expect very good sportsmanship. Expect teammates to work together.”
“Want to see how to correctly perform a left-handed lay up? Watch the Storm take on the Shock this Wednesday on ESPN7.”
You think I’m joking. But I’m not. What does the league have to lose? More people will watch “The Philanthropist” than WNBA games. If they don’t find some way to spice things up, they will die. Self-deprecation is the perfect way to do it, particularly when it isn’t really self-deprecating. They are making fun of their (apt) image, while not losing sight of the fact that there isn’t anything wrong with remembering to jump off your right foot for a left handed lay-up.
And let’s face it, there is only one other way an all female league is going to attract much attention, and I doubt my many female readers would deliver their approbation unto that. So until next time:
The WNBA: where the spectacularly mundane happens.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Monday, June 08, 2009
I hate single posts for links
But this was too good not to link to. Obviously the the Sports Guy is usually terrific, but the number of terrific things said here was too terrific. That's right. Too terrific. Let me indugle myself and quote my favorite part, if only because i noticed this look last night and I cracked up even then.
"0:01: Fascinating last play -- Orlando defends Kobe with its slowest defender (Turkoglu), gambling that his length will bother Kobe's jumpshot, and if Kobe drives, Hedo's teammates will jump in to help and Kobe will shoot, anyway. So what happens? Kobe beats Hedo off the dribble, Redick, Lewis and Howard all collapse on Kobe, Kobe ignores Odom (wide-open, left corner), Ariza (wide-open, top of key) and Fisher (wide-open, right corner) and shoots with two seconds left, anyway ... and Hedo blocks him from behind. Sorry, that's just a terrible offensive play. I would hope even the Lakers fans would admit this...
0:00.6: Funniest moment of the game: Kobe storms back to the bench, whacks the chair in disgust and sits down as Phil Jackson (already sitting) looks at him with a bemused, "Should I point out to him that MJ absolutely would have passed there?" smile on his face. Classic."
The Sports Maunderer has a relative who will go nameless (her name rhymes with smatherine) who repeatedly beats him over the head for not appreciating Kobe enough. This, in a nutshell, is why. My favorite part of basketball--by far--is passing. It isn't always the smart play. Sometimes, for instance, Lebron passes too often. MJ always passed pretty much the correct amount (when you are as good of a scorer as he was, passing is rarely the best play, but he still got plenty of awesome assists because when it was the correct play, he made it). Magic Johnson... well he was Magic Johnson. Before my time but I'm told he didn't suck. Even dominant big men like Tim Duncan (who I can't stand) and Shaq would pass out of double teams. not necessaril pretty, but effective. Pau Gasol, for that matter, a Kobe-teammate and 7-footer, is a really good passer who has beautiful assists from time to time.
When I play or watch basketball, I look for awesome passes. Like this. Or any of Lebron's other 10,000,000,000 amazing passes. Lebron plays with the worst team in basketball and yet he manages to make several amazing assists per game, and would average a triple double if his team knocked down shots. Kobe has a veritable all-star team and they play like an all-star team. they win in spite of themselves. They just have too much talent to lose.
The Lakers should crush people. They should destroy them. They certainly shouldn't be getting blocked from behind on the last play of regulation with a chance to win. This, right here, is why I don't root for Kobe (besides, you know, that business in Colorado). He is either too arrogant or too stupid or not good enough to know when to give the ball up. I don't think he isn't good enough, and I don't think he's too stupid.
Maybe it isn't arrogance though. Maybe it is insecurity. Maybe he feels like if he doesn't get every game winning shot, he isn't good enough. Either way, it is a crime against a beautiful sport. I would think that smatherine would understand that.
"0:01: Fascinating last play -- Orlando defends Kobe with its slowest defender (Turkoglu), gambling that his length will bother Kobe's jumpshot, and if Kobe drives, Hedo's teammates will jump in to help and Kobe will shoot, anyway. So what happens? Kobe beats Hedo off the dribble, Redick, Lewis and Howard all collapse on Kobe, Kobe ignores Odom (wide-open, left corner), Ariza (wide-open, top of key) and Fisher (wide-open, right corner) and shoots with two seconds left, anyway ... and Hedo blocks him from behind. Sorry, that's just a terrible offensive play. I would hope even the Lakers fans would admit this...
0:00.6: Funniest moment of the game: Kobe storms back to the bench, whacks the chair in disgust and sits down as Phil Jackson (already sitting) looks at him with a bemused, "Should I point out to him that MJ absolutely would have passed there?" smile on his face. Classic."
The Sports Maunderer has a relative who will go nameless (her name rhymes with smatherine) who repeatedly beats him over the head for not appreciating Kobe enough. This, in a nutshell, is why. My favorite part of basketball--by far--is passing. It isn't always the smart play. Sometimes, for instance, Lebron passes too often. MJ always passed pretty much the correct amount (when you are as good of a scorer as he was, passing is rarely the best play, but he still got plenty of awesome assists because when it was the correct play, he made it). Magic Johnson... well he was Magic Johnson. Before my time but I'm told he didn't suck. Even dominant big men like Tim Duncan (who I can't stand) and Shaq would pass out of double teams. not necessaril pretty, but effective. Pau Gasol, for that matter, a Kobe-teammate and 7-footer, is a really good passer who has beautiful assists from time to time.
When I play or watch basketball, I look for awesome passes. Like this. Or any of Lebron's other 10,000,000,000 amazing passes. Lebron plays with the worst team in basketball and yet he manages to make several amazing assists per game, and would average a triple double if his team knocked down shots. Kobe has a veritable all-star team and they play like an all-star team. they win in spite of themselves. They just have too much talent to lose.
The Lakers should crush people. They should destroy them. They certainly shouldn't be getting blocked from behind on the last play of regulation with a chance to win. This, right here, is why I don't root for Kobe (besides, you know, that business in Colorado). He is either too arrogant or too stupid or not good enough to know when to give the ball up. I don't think he isn't good enough, and I don't think he's too stupid.
Maybe it isn't arrogance though. Maybe it is insecurity. Maybe he feels like if he doesn't get every game winning shot, he isn't good enough. Either way, it is a crime against a beautiful sport. I would think that smatherine would understand that.
Closers. Hah.
I am writing this entry in large part because I am not watching any more NBA games and I have suddenly a wealth of free time.
Once upon a time, the stars of the league were tall, fast, smooth, and could jump out of a building. Now, they are tiny, old, and look like this. Not sure exactly when this happened but alas.
I am in a truculent mood. So ornery is my mood, in fact, I have decided to ponder the sacrilegious: Mariano Rivera is overrated.
Most of you have stopped reading by now, and are already excoriating me in the comments section, but that’s okay, I’ll just talk to myself for a little while.
First, it must be remembered that “overrated” doesn’t mean “not spectacular”. Rivera is clearly one of the better one-inning pitchers ever. But I both question the notion that a one-inning pitcher as used currently is all that important, and I question the notion that Rivera is this lights-out-automatic-end-the-game-now closer.
In the regular season, Rivera has been very very good. But Trevor Hoffman has been better, and no one has ever heard of him. Why? His team never gets to the playoffs. This isn’t really his fault but let’s assume that the playoffs do define one’s career.
Has Rivera really been untouchable in the playoffs? I would say no. Let’s forget the ’96 season for a second because my grand finale (read: soliloquy) will end up there. But since then, Rivera:
Blew the 1997 playoffs for the Yankees.
Blew the 2001 World Series for the Yankees.
Most atrociously of all, was almost entirely responsible for the debacle that was 2004. don’t talk about A-Rod or Sheffield or Jeter not hitting in game 6. Those guys got the team to a 3-0 series lead with a 2-run lead in the 8th inning of game 4.
This is where the lights out automatic end the game now closer is supposed to take you to the World Series. Rivera blew it.
Then, in game 5, they got him another lead.
He blew it.
This isn’t exactly the soul crushing pitcher you hear about.
And this ignores, for the moment, that in the regular season, Rivera basically stinks against the most important team the Yankees play: the Red Sox. His save percentage against the nefarious Bostonians is a pathetic number to behold. So pathetic I will not even hurt your eyes by posting it online. And have you ever noticed how every hitter in the Red Sox line-up has a Ty Cobb-like average against Mo?
I loathe admitting it, but when the “greatest Yankee pitcher of all time” sucks against the Red Sox, he isn’t the greatest Yankee pitcher of all time.
Some of this may be piling on, given Rivera’s sub-par (or above par, if we are going to make any sense at all) season thus far. But the truth is that he has a ridiculously simple job: come in with nobody on, and get 3 (sometimes 6) people out. Even if we give him sole credit for the Yankees winning 3 World Series in a row (and that would be stupid) he was pretty solely responsible for them losing several World Series that the rest of the team had put them in a position to win. Lights out automatic? I think not.
In 1996, he was not the “closer” (a ridiculous term that has stunted baseball’s strategic growth beyond belief). He was just a reliever brought in when the going got tough for a starter or other reliever. And he was nearly unhittable. John Wetteland got the MVP for getting three guys out with nobody on in the ninth a few times, but Rivera was the guy who got three guys out with runners at the corners. That was important. That was baseball.
Closers have become such pampered babies that I think they have lost a little bit of the mettle that makes them effective in the first place. Remember: no one starts a closer. They almost always begin their careers as set up men. Set up men have to the actual dirty work. Ramiro Mendoza was probably as important as Rivera from 98-00. Rivera was once the guy who came in when the going got rough, not when the scoreboard said “9th”. I don’t necessarily postulate that closing makes them lose their nerves, but heck, maybe it does.
The reality is this: Rivera has stayed incredibly healthy throughout his career, and has been on a winning team every single season in his career. He always has a ton of saves because there are always a ton of games to save. He also has good “numbers” in the postseason but the only moments I remember Rivera for in the postseason are: ’96 when he wasn’t a “closer”, ’97 when he blew it, 2001 when he blew it, and 2004 when he blew it (twice). This is unfair as a closer is often remembered more for his mistakes than his successes. But in a game where scoring a run in an inning is REALLY REALLY hard (much less two or even three, which also count as “save situations”), the greatest Yankee pitcher of all time probably shouldn’t be a 50/50 proposition in the playoffs, right?
(Editors note: none of this should be interpreted as an attempt to detract from Rivera’s rightful place as one of the great Yankee pitchers. He is very very good at getting three outs with nobody on. Not so much against the Red Sox, or in game sevens of the World Series, but whatever. The point is: don’t you long for the days when he came in when they needed him? He is most likely not up to that anymore--his ERA right now is lower than Wang’s, which is about the only good thing you can say--but there is someone on the Yankees who is. His name rhymes with Doba Schmamberlain, and he can throw the ball 100mph. Time to wake up, Joe).
Once upon a time, the stars of the league were tall, fast, smooth, and could jump out of a building. Now, they are tiny, old, and look like this. Not sure exactly when this happened but alas.
I am in a truculent mood. So ornery is my mood, in fact, I have decided to ponder the sacrilegious: Mariano Rivera is overrated.
Most of you have stopped reading by now, and are already excoriating me in the comments section, but that’s okay, I’ll just talk to myself for a little while.
First, it must be remembered that “overrated” doesn’t mean “not spectacular”. Rivera is clearly one of the better one-inning pitchers ever. But I both question the notion that a one-inning pitcher as used currently is all that important, and I question the notion that Rivera is this lights-out-automatic-end-the-game-now closer.
In the regular season, Rivera has been very very good. But Trevor Hoffman has been better, and no one has ever heard of him. Why? His team never gets to the playoffs. This isn’t really his fault but let’s assume that the playoffs do define one’s career.
Has Rivera really been untouchable in the playoffs? I would say no. Let’s forget the ’96 season for a second because my grand finale (read: soliloquy) will end up there. But since then, Rivera:
Blew the 1997 playoffs for the Yankees.
Blew the 2001 World Series for the Yankees.
Most atrociously of all, was almost entirely responsible for the debacle that was 2004. don’t talk about A-Rod or Sheffield or Jeter not hitting in game 6. Those guys got the team to a 3-0 series lead with a 2-run lead in the 8th inning of game 4.
This is where the lights out automatic end the game now closer is supposed to take you to the World Series. Rivera blew it.
Then, in game 5, they got him another lead.
He blew it.
This isn’t exactly the soul crushing pitcher you hear about.
And this ignores, for the moment, that in the regular season, Rivera basically stinks against the most important team the Yankees play: the Red Sox. His save percentage against the nefarious Bostonians is a pathetic number to behold. So pathetic I will not even hurt your eyes by posting it online. And have you ever noticed how every hitter in the Red Sox line-up has a Ty Cobb-like average against Mo?
I loathe admitting it, but when the “greatest Yankee pitcher of all time” sucks against the Red Sox, he isn’t the greatest Yankee pitcher of all time.
Some of this may be piling on, given Rivera’s sub-par (or above par, if we are going to make any sense at all) season thus far. But the truth is that he has a ridiculously simple job: come in with nobody on, and get 3 (sometimes 6) people out. Even if we give him sole credit for the Yankees winning 3 World Series in a row (and that would be stupid) he was pretty solely responsible for them losing several World Series that the rest of the team had put them in a position to win. Lights out automatic? I think not.
In 1996, he was not the “closer” (a ridiculous term that has stunted baseball’s strategic growth beyond belief). He was just a reliever brought in when the going got tough for a starter or other reliever. And he was nearly unhittable. John Wetteland got the MVP for getting three guys out with nobody on in the ninth a few times, but Rivera was the guy who got three guys out with runners at the corners. That was important. That was baseball.
Closers have become such pampered babies that I think they have lost a little bit of the mettle that makes them effective in the first place. Remember: no one starts a closer. They almost always begin their careers as set up men. Set up men have to the actual dirty work. Ramiro Mendoza was probably as important as Rivera from 98-00. Rivera was once the guy who came in when the going got rough, not when the scoreboard said “9th”. I don’t necessarily postulate that closing makes them lose their nerves, but heck, maybe it does.
The reality is this: Rivera has stayed incredibly healthy throughout his career, and has been on a winning team every single season in his career. He always has a ton of saves because there are always a ton of games to save. He also has good “numbers” in the postseason but the only moments I remember Rivera for in the postseason are: ’96 when he wasn’t a “closer”, ’97 when he blew it, 2001 when he blew it, and 2004 when he blew it (twice). This is unfair as a closer is often remembered more for his mistakes than his successes. But in a game where scoring a run in an inning is REALLY REALLY hard (much less two or even three, which also count as “save situations”), the greatest Yankee pitcher of all time probably shouldn’t be a 50/50 proposition in the playoffs, right?
(Editors note: none of this should be interpreted as an attempt to detract from Rivera’s rightful place as one of the great Yankee pitchers. He is very very good at getting three outs with nobody on. Not so much against the Red Sox, or in game sevens of the World Series, but whatever. The point is: don’t you long for the days when he came in when they needed him? He is most likely not up to that anymore--his ERA right now is lower than Wang’s, which is about the only good thing you can say--but there is someone on the Yankees who is. His name rhymes with Doba Schmamberlain, and he can throw the ball 100mph. Time to wake up, Joe).
Friday, April 10, 2009
I'm not being sarcastic...
...someone else is. This cracked me up for obvious reasons. Comes from a recent chat with DJ Gallo, ESPN's other writer worth reading. (For those who don't know, this question comes from the fact that UConn just hammered the bejeezus out of Louisville in the Women's NCAA title game. But the question isn't the funny part. The answer is).
"J.B. (Dunmore, PA): Better matchup: UConn women's basketball v Louisville women's basketball or Harlem Globetrotters v Washington Generals?
DJ Gallo: I think you are being a bit disrespectful of the Washington Generals. By the way, I do think this raises a good idea: Why not a women's Harlem Globetrotters team? They could entertain the crowd with sound fundamentals. Look, kids! A textbook bounce pass! "
"J.B. (Dunmore, PA): Better matchup: UConn women's basketball v Louisville women's basketball or Harlem Globetrotters v Washington Generals?
DJ Gallo: I think you are being a bit disrespectful of the Washington Generals. By the way, I do think this raises a good idea: Why not a women's Harlem Globetrotters team? They could entertain the crowd with sound fundamentals. Look, kids! A textbook bounce pass! "
Not the greatest way to start...
But here's an interesting tidbit. From a recap of Thursday's game on ESPN.com.
"Robinson Cano homered and scored a career-best four runs for the Yankees, who avoided their first 0-3 start since 1998".
It is funny, because usually when you avoid your worst start since year xxxx, year xxxx was a horrible year. Turns out that year xxxx was 1998, the year of the greatest team that ever played. They started 0-3 and in fact 1-4, before going 90-30.
90-30. If a team wins nine out of twelve games, ESPN puts it on the highlight reel to showcase how well they are playing. The Yanks did that for 120 games in 1998. They slowed down after that, but wouldn't you? Why bother trying after leavign everyone that far in the dust. Anyway, this year's team is not going to do what that year's team did, obviously. But how could they? They didn't start 0-3.
~The Sports Maunderer~
"Robinson Cano homered and scored a career-best four runs for the Yankees, who avoided their first 0-3 start since 1998".
It is funny, because usually when you avoid your worst start since year xxxx, year xxxx was a horrible year. Turns out that year xxxx was 1998, the year of the greatest team that ever played. They started 0-3 and in fact 1-4, before going 90-30.
90-30. If a team wins nine out of twelve games, ESPN puts it on the highlight reel to showcase how well they are playing. The Yanks did that for 120 games in 1998. They slowed down after that, but wouldn't you? Why bother trying after leavign everyone that far in the dust. Anyway, this year's team is not going to do what that year's team did, obviously. But how could they? They didn't start 0-3.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Thursday, March 26, 2009
A Plea for Guidance
April 6th. It isn’t D-Day or Pearl Harbor or a Moon landing or heck even Alan B. Shepherd Junior’s May 5th. But it retains some degree of importance. It is the Yankees’ 2009 opening day. April 6th sounds shockingly late to the Sports Maunderer, given that the previous few years have seen late March starts. But then, last Year saw Easter before a single flower had bloomed so I’m convinced that Spring just doesn’t know what to do with itself.
Of more importance than this date, though (at least for those daring to venture into the bowels of this blog yet again—and, by the way, I’m fairly certain that “bowels” are the only body part this blog seems to possess…), is another date: April 12th. Why April 12th? According to Wikipedia, this is why:
“Easter is determined on the basis of lunisolar cycles. The lunar year consists of 30-day and 29-day lunar months, generally alternating, with an embolismic month added periodically to bring the lunar cycle into line with the solar cycle. In each solar year (January 1 to December 31), the lunar month beginning with an ecclesiastical new moon falling in the 29-day period from March 8 to April 5 inclusive is designated as the Paschal lunar month for that year. Easter is the 3rd Sunday in the Paschal lunar month, or, in other words, the Sunday after the Paschal lunar month's 14th day. The 14th of the Paschal lunar month is designated by convention as the Paschal full moon, although the 14th of the lunar month may differ from the date of the astronomical full moon by up to two days.[36] Since the ecclesiastical new moon falls on a date from March 8 to April 5 inclusive, the Paschal full moon (the 14th of that lunar month) must fall on a date from March 21 to April 18 inclusive.”
Now besides those five minutes of your life you will not get back, something else about that paragraph is important. It demands that Easter be placed on the 12th of April. It is not yet the 12th of April. The Sports Maunderer gave up sarcasm for Lent. Lent ends on—well, okay, it doesn’t technically end on Easter, it ends on Holy Thursday but the point is, we are not there yet which means that the Yankees’ baseball season will be starting prior to the Sports Maunderer’s gaining his sarcasm back. Think long and hard about this if you dare. If you do not dare, I will share my thoughts on the subject with you.
Crapdangit.
I suppose that was only really one thought.
Anyway, the Sports Maunderer is quite unsure if he can succeed here. Taking away sarcasm is tantamount to taking away gratuitous, sesquipedalian words or demanding that prolix, loquacious, magniloquent (and might I add redundant) verbiage be ceased.
Is it doable? Probably not. Odds are that I have edited this page several times already, attempting to excise all sarcastic quips, and yet still failed to avoid sarcasm.
Of course this is all made somewhat more difficult by the nebulous notion of sarcasm. What is it exactly? Is it an ironic, inverted comment or is it an acerbic, inverted comment or both or anything quick and witty or what? Is good natured sarcasm still sarcasm? Is self-deprecating sarcasm still sarcasm? I don’t know. This is probably why the Sports Maunderer has been failing so spectacularly with this particular Lenten fast (if my tone appears flippant, I am misleading you. This bothers the Sports Maunderer greatly. It is the first time he has ever failed in a Lenten fast. Ever. He shall now cry for an extended period of time. He has done so. He has returned.)
Regardless, it makes for an interesting little tension between writing well and writing without being sarcastic. This is nearly impossible in any format, but the impossibility is trebled (oooh, I love that entirely inutile lexeme) when it is the freaking SPORTS MAUNDERER. Can it be done? Should he even attempt it? Let him know in the comments and let him know soon, because almost a whole WEEK of baseball will go by before the fast is up. If you are having trouble, think about the fact that I might have to both mention A-Rod and avoid sarcasm in the same sentence. I really don't know...
Of more importance than this date, though (at least for those daring to venture into the bowels of this blog yet again—and, by the way, I’m fairly certain that “bowels” are the only body part this blog seems to possess…), is another date: April 12th. Why April 12th? According to Wikipedia, this is why:
“Easter is determined on the basis of lunisolar cycles. The lunar year consists of 30-day and 29-day lunar months, generally alternating, with an embolismic month added periodically to bring the lunar cycle into line with the solar cycle. In each solar year (January 1 to December 31), the lunar month beginning with an ecclesiastical new moon falling in the 29-day period from March 8 to April 5 inclusive is designated as the Paschal lunar month for that year. Easter is the 3rd Sunday in the Paschal lunar month, or, in other words, the Sunday after the Paschal lunar month's 14th day. The 14th of the Paschal lunar month is designated by convention as the Paschal full moon, although the 14th of the lunar month may differ from the date of the astronomical full moon by up to two days.[36] Since the ecclesiastical new moon falls on a date from March 8 to April 5 inclusive, the Paschal full moon (the 14th of that lunar month) must fall on a date from March 21 to April 18 inclusive.”
Now besides those five minutes of your life you will not get back, something else about that paragraph is important. It demands that Easter be placed on the 12th of April. It is not yet the 12th of April. The Sports Maunderer gave up sarcasm for Lent. Lent ends on—well, okay, it doesn’t technically end on Easter, it ends on Holy Thursday but the point is, we are not there yet which means that the Yankees’ baseball season will be starting prior to the Sports Maunderer’s gaining his sarcasm back. Think long and hard about this if you dare. If you do not dare, I will share my thoughts on the subject with you.
Crapdangit.
I suppose that was only really one thought.
Anyway, the Sports Maunderer is quite unsure if he can succeed here. Taking away sarcasm is tantamount to taking away gratuitous, sesquipedalian words or demanding that prolix, loquacious, magniloquent (and might I add redundant) verbiage be ceased.
Is it doable? Probably not. Odds are that I have edited this page several times already, attempting to excise all sarcastic quips, and yet still failed to avoid sarcasm.
Of course this is all made somewhat more difficult by the nebulous notion of sarcasm. What is it exactly? Is it an ironic, inverted comment or is it an acerbic, inverted comment or both or anything quick and witty or what? Is good natured sarcasm still sarcasm? Is self-deprecating sarcasm still sarcasm? I don’t know. This is probably why the Sports Maunderer has been failing so spectacularly with this particular Lenten fast (if my tone appears flippant, I am misleading you. This bothers the Sports Maunderer greatly. It is the first time he has ever failed in a Lenten fast. Ever. He shall now cry for an extended period of time. He has done so. He has returned.)
Regardless, it makes for an interesting little tension between writing well and writing without being sarcastic. This is nearly impossible in any format, but the impossibility is trebled (oooh, I love that entirely inutile lexeme) when it is the freaking SPORTS MAUNDERER. Can it be done? Should he even attempt it? Let him know in the comments and let him know soon, because almost a whole WEEK of baseball will go by before the fast is up. If you are having trouble, think about the fact that I might have to both mention A-Rod and avoid sarcasm in the same sentence. I really don't know...
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