For those of you who love the Minnesota Twins as much as I do, it has been a painful year. They are a maddening team - showing flashes of brilliance, followed by stretches of incompetence. And, if you are even more like me, you hope that every year the Twins will make a trade that will help push them over the edge and either make the playoffs, or make a run in the playoffs.
But this, I have a different frame of mind. Think about this, all you devoted Twins fans. Are Twins even good enough where one trade would make a difference? The Twins have more than one hole right now. They need bullpen help, infield help at numerous positions (three, if in fact Joe Crede is seriously hurt) and their starting pitching has been very shaky. They are not a mere trade away, but rather two or three moves away from being a very good team. Now I want them to win as much as the next guy, and want these areas of weakness to be addressed. But can they all be addressed in the middle of the season? Some of this should have been done in previous years and the front office failed to step up. But that means they should not exaserbate the problem by trying a mid-season trade where they will probably over-pay for a player anyway. Nobody likes to give up on a season. Surely, I do not. But at some point in time, you've got to cut bait. The Twins have been entirely too inconsistent this year for me to believe they are one move away from being a good team. Yes, the Twins should continue to explore ways to make their team better. Trading for a player who is signed for more than this season would be a good move. But unless they can find a good reliever (which every contender is looking for) a solid right-handed bat, a quality middle infielder and a consistent starting pitcher, there is no need to trade for one of them. You only marginally make your team better and you risk losing assets to retool your team over the winter to make a run next year. And folks, next year is incredibly important. It is the new stadium, as well as Joe Mauer's final year under his current contract. The fans are going to look for an increase in payroll and are going to expect more from this team.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
The British Open
One putt for history. A simple 10 inches of movement of the putter and the record would be his. As he stepped up to swing his putter for a shot that would forever immortalize him, Tom Watson was surrounded by fans, well-wishers and people cheering him on, yet he probably never felt so alone.
When I think of sports, I tend to think of a team, and often times forget an individual. Maybe it's because I have played more teams sports than individual sports. I don't know what the reason, buy sports is cinanomous with team to me.
But when I saw Watson come to the tee box on the 18th green on Sunday afternoon, I can only imagine what was going through his mind. This wasn't a team game. He didn't have anybody to rely on or to blame but himself.
And with his putt for par and a place in the record books, Tom Watson stroked the ball like he was terrified of the moment. Tom Watson, with his magnitude of experience, his tens of victories, his eight majors, and his five British Open titles, fell the pressure and hit a week putt.
Maybe he was thinking too much about his previous put that he sailed well past the whole. Maybe he was thinking about the history. I don't know. But I do know if you look at Stuart Cink's birdie putt on 18 and Tom Watson's par putt on 18, you can see a stark contrast in confidence.
This got me thinking a little bit. If a guy like Tom Watson can be unnerved, that has to be just about the most difficult thing an individual can do in sports - make a clutch put.
Often times in sports, when the game is on the line, there is more than one individual who affects the outcome. It's either a teammate, a defender, maybe a referee, somebody. But not in this case. It was only Tom Watson. Nobody else.
And unlike other sports, this didn't happen in the flow of the game. There was no lead up to it where you are just playing and letting your instincts take over. He sat there for minutes with nothing else to do but think about his putt. This is the ultimate icing of the kicker.
I can't think of another situation like this. In football, a game winning field goal takes more than just the kicker. In baseball, even in the ninth inning, there is a pitcher and batter.
The closest thing I can think of is in basketball, if time is expired, a tie game, and you have one free throw to win. But that isn't exactly the same, because a free throw is the same distance no matter what court your on. It is something you've done hundreds of thousands of times before. A golfer never sees the exact same put twice.
Maybe in a field event at the Olympics. You have one throw left of the discus to win gold medal. I don't know, it still seems different to me.
So yes, Tom Watson should have one the British Open. He was 187 yards from the pin in the middle of the fairway and needed a par to win. He choked. But can you really blame him?
When I think of sports, I tend to think of a team, and often times forget an individual. Maybe it's because I have played more teams sports than individual sports. I don't know what the reason, buy sports is cinanomous with team to me.
But when I saw Watson come to the tee box on the 18th green on Sunday afternoon, I can only imagine what was going through his mind. This wasn't a team game. He didn't have anybody to rely on or to blame but himself.
And with his putt for par and a place in the record books, Tom Watson stroked the ball like he was terrified of the moment. Tom Watson, with his magnitude of experience, his tens of victories, his eight majors, and his five British Open titles, fell the pressure and hit a week putt.
Maybe he was thinking too much about his previous put that he sailed well past the whole. Maybe he was thinking about the history. I don't know. But I do know if you look at Stuart Cink's birdie putt on 18 and Tom Watson's par putt on 18, you can see a stark contrast in confidence.
This got me thinking a little bit. If a guy like Tom Watson can be unnerved, that has to be just about the most difficult thing an individual can do in sports - make a clutch put.
Often times in sports, when the game is on the line, there is more than one individual who affects the outcome. It's either a teammate, a defender, maybe a referee, somebody. But not in this case. It was only Tom Watson. Nobody else.
And unlike other sports, this didn't happen in the flow of the game. There was no lead up to it where you are just playing and letting your instincts take over. He sat there for minutes with nothing else to do but think about his putt. This is the ultimate icing of the kicker.
I can't think of another situation like this. In football, a game winning field goal takes more than just the kicker. In baseball, even in the ninth inning, there is a pitcher and batter.
The closest thing I can think of is in basketball, if time is expired, a tie game, and you have one free throw to win. But that isn't exactly the same, because a free throw is the same distance no matter what court your on. It is something you've done hundreds of thousands of times before. A golfer never sees the exact same put twice.
Maybe in a field event at the Olympics. You have one throw left of the discus to win gold medal. I don't know, it still seems different to me.
So yes, Tom Watson should have one the British Open. He was 187 yards from the pin in the middle of the fairway and needed a par to win. He choked. But can you really blame him?
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Fenway Park
Today I am able to cross off an item on my life's to-do list, if I indeed had a list. I took in a game at Fenway Park. The Sox lost 6-0, but that is hardly the point. Rarely do I actually remember who won or lost the game, but rather I remember the experience surrounding the game. I couldn't tell you who won or lost a single game on my baseball roadtrip a few years back, but I could tell you where our tickets were for every game and that we waited out a rain delay in Wrigley and I almost caught a foul ball at Kaufman Stadium. So the Sox losing last night takes some fun out of the game, but not the overall experience. Sure, I didn't get to high-five a stranger, or spill my drink on the person in front of me when I jumped up for the winning home run, but the atmosphere and the aura of the parm remain unblemished.
My Fenway experience began about 4:30, when I got in line for tickets. I waited with a few hundred people to buy the tickets the Sox save for two hours before game time. After purchasing your ticket, mine was $50 for lower-level behind homeplate, you're immediately ushered into the stadium in order to persever the integrity of the tickets, i.e. scalpers can't buy day of tickets just to sell them. So I get into Fenway about an 1:20 before the first pitch and the place was crowded. The Sox game isn't merely a game, but rather an evening out. And hardly anybody is sitting in their seats yet, but rather everybody is is in one of the concourses eating a hot dog or a sausage of some kind, and drinking beer. Every 10-15 feet is another sausage/beer stand. Pure awesomeness. The stadium and the concourses are an interesting mix. Fenway is nearly a century old, but the concourses are new. The concrete floor is cracked and anything but smooth and the stadium shows all 100 years of its existence, but the concourses are modern and very fan friendly. The best concourse is Yawkey way, though. They block off the entire street a couple hours before the game so fans can spend time outside. Of course, you can buy beer and sausages outside, as well as listen to live music. Souvenir shops line the adjacent building and TV sets are abound in order to watch the pre-game, or if you need a smoke break during the game.
So we finally got to our seats. Now I don't think any ballpark has incredibly comfortable seats, but these aren't even close. You sit with your knees in your chest, while bumping the row in front of you, and it is impossible to avoid rubbing shoulders/elbows with the people next to you and a pole obstructs part of the viewing, but what do you want from an old stadium? People were smaller when it was built didn't have nearly the comforts we are used to.
The stadium was packed for a Monday night game against the anemic Oakland Athletics. But it's the Red Sox and they have sold out more than 500 consecutive games. But the fact that almost every ticket holder there was what was amazing. And the excitement throughout the stadium, from the moment I walked in until the last pitch, was incredible. They love their Red Sox (now that they're winning). As I found out during the starting line-ups, the game carried a little more significance than orginally thought - Nomar was returning. It would be his first time back in Fenway since he was traded in 2004. He received a warm applause when his name was announced in the starting line-up, but nothing compared to the standing ovation he received in his first plate appearance. He led off the second inning, and the Red Sox Nation standed and applauded him for a couple of minutes. It was a truly incredible experience. Here is this visiting player, who hasn't been on the team in five years, was traded away because he wasn't getting the job done, and never led them to a World Series, receiving an incredible amount of love from the fans. He nearly broke down in tears. I stood and applauded, not because I care about Nomar or have appreciation for what he did, but because you could the fans were saying "Thank You" and it was a moving experience that you couldn't just sit idly by and watch.
Nomar grounded out and the game continued. The A's jumped out to a 5-0 lead so we decided to wonder around Fenway more and see all the stadium. We explored all of the bad angles and strange viewing positions of the stadium. And we stumbled into a bar. Up above in right field, the have the Right Field Roof, complete with a full-scale bar, with stools and TVs and the whole works. Why watch the game live when you can sit at a bar right? Well, you have the option still in Fenway. Unbelievable.
We then made our way back to our seats, at which point the crowd was feeling the maximum beer affect (the 7th inning) and I saw the wave go around the entire stadium at least 4 times. Now that was impressive. The fans were finally starting to come alive, even though the Sox weren't in the game.
We got back to our seats for the 8th inning, enough time to sing Sweet Caroline in the largest Karoake spectacle I've been a part of. We stayed until the end of the game, even though it was clear the Red Sox had no answer for the A's starting pitcher, who completed the shutout, only giving up two hits. I later found it was the first time a rookie shutout the Sox at Fenway since 1989. We walked back to the car, and my Fenway experience was complete.
My Fenway experience began about 4:30, when I got in line for tickets. I waited with a few hundred people to buy the tickets the Sox save for two hours before game time. After purchasing your ticket, mine was $50 for lower-level behind homeplate, you're immediately ushered into the stadium in order to persever the integrity of the tickets, i.e. scalpers can't buy day of tickets just to sell them. So I get into Fenway about an 1:20 before the first pitch and the place was crowded. The Sox game isn't merely a game, but rather an evening out. And hardly anybody is sitting in their seats yet, but rather everybody is is in one of the concourses eating a hot dog or a sausage of some kind, and drinking beer. Every 10-15 feet is another sausage/beer stand. Pure awesomeness. The stadium and the concourses are an interesting mix. Fenway is nearly a century old, but the concourses are new. The concrete floor is cracked and anything but smooth and the stadium shows all 100 years of its existence, but the concourses are modern and very fan friendly. The best concourse is Yawkey way, though. They block off the entire street a couple hours before the game so fans can spend time outside. Of course, you can buy beer and sausages outside, as well as listen to live music. Souvenir shops line the adjacent building and TV sets are abound in order to watch the pre-game, or if you need a smoke break during the game.
So we finally got to our seats. Now I don't think any ballpark has incredibly comfortable seats, but these aren't even close. You sit with your knees in your chest, while bumping the row in front of you, and it is impossible to avoid rubbing shoulders/elbows with the people next to you and a pole obstructs part of the viewing, but what do you want from an old stadium? People were smaller when it was built didn't have nearly the comforts we are used to.
The stadium was packed for a Monday night game against the anemic Oakland Athletics. But it's the Red Sox and they have sold out more than 500 consecutive games. But the fact that almost every ticket holder there was what was amazing. And the excitement throughout the stadium, from the moment I walked in until the last pitch, was incredible. They love their Red Sox (now that they're winning). As I found out during the starting line-ups, the game carried a little more significance than orginally thought - Nomar was returning. It would be his first time back in Fenway since he was traded in 2004. He received a warm applause when his name was announced in the starting line-up, but nothing compared to the standing ovation he received in his first plate appearance. He led off the second inning, and the Red Sox Nation standed and applauded him for a couple of minutes. It was a truly incredible experience. Here is this visiting player, who hasn't been on the team in five years, was traded away because he wasn't getting the job done, and never led them to a World Series, receiving an incredible amount of love from the fans. He nearly broke down in tears. I stood and applauded, not because I care about Nomar or have appreciation for what he did, but because you could the fans were saying "Thank You" and it was a moving experience that you couldn't just sit idly by and watch.
Nomar grounded out and the game continued. The A's jumped out to a 5-0 lead so we decided to wonder around Fenway more and see all the stadium. We explored all of the bad angles and strange viewing positions of the stadium. And we stumbled into a bar. Up above in right field, the have the Right Field Roof, complete with a full-scale bar, with stools and TVs and the whole works. Why watch the game live when you can sit at a bar right? Well, you have the option still in Fenway. Unbelievable.
We then made our way back to our seats, at which point the crowd was feeling the maximum beer affect (the 7th inning) and I saw the wave go around the entire stadium at least 4 times. Now that was impressive. The fans were finally starting to come alive, even though the Sox weren't in the game.
We got back to our seats for the 8th inning, enough time to sing Sweet Caroline in the largest Karoake spectacle I've been a part of. We stayed until the end of the game, even though it was clear the Red Sox had no answer for the A's starting pitcher, who completed the shutout, only giving up two hits. I later found it was the first time a rookie shutout the Sox at Fenway since 1989. We walked back to the car, and my Fenway experience was complete.
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