Sports T&A (Topics and Arguments) with Amy. Issue #1: Hernandez Sleeps
Posted May 14 2010 4:00am
“Baseball used to be a heck of a lot more exciting.” – Keith Hernandez
Okay, Keith Hernandez did not say that out loud, but I am willing to bet my seventh inning stretch rights that he damn well thought that to himself right before he fell asleep while covering the Mets (Ed. – watch the video here). Now Keith, I know baseball has been cracking down on performance enhancing drugs, but that does not extend to washed-up announcers. You are free to drug yourself until you are grinding your teeth and tapping your feet like Mark Wahlberg in the third act of Boogie Nights. I have several thoughts on how you could stay awake during your Mets game coverage: sugar free Rock Star? Hydroxycut? Better yet, call Ron Washington and ask him how he stayed awake that one time. I find that Coke Zero and listening to The Violent Femmes really works for me. Keith, you be Matt Damon. I’ll be Robin Williams. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault…You’re right Keith, baseball used to be a better game.” While we could talk about your feelings…let’s not. Let’s treat the cause, not the symptom. Let’s use a few examples to see how we can restore baseball to its glory days, so that the people paid to announce it aren’t falling asleep.
It’s not your fault, Keith: Crash Davis. Minor league player, life coach.
Let’s take a look at one of the best sports movies of all time, Bull Durham. If you disagree with that assessment, keep it to yourself. It’s not that I don’t care about your opinion, but I really don’t care about your opinion. Crash Davis was more than just a catcher and more than a character. He was everything that is right about baseball. Tough, crude, and macho. Where have you gone, Crash? And why is that purple-lipped A-Rod in your place? Do the Crashes even exist anymore? I too believe that Astroturf and the designated hitter should be outlawed. And I certainly believe in long, slow, soft, deep wet kisses that last three days. Crash, it’s the way you handled the game. The game was life. Never hit someone with you pitching hand, hold it like an egg, baseball as religion, the park as a cathedral. The game used to be sacred. Now it’s a long, drawn out season with 7 hr games. I love baseball, and even I only tune in for the World Series, games 3-7. C’mon, Meat, you’re now about contracts and publicity. It used to be an experience. It used to be a game of heroes. Now it’s just a game of players. Baseball: I just don’t have room in my heart for lazy, roided-up, over-paid lollygaggers. PS – quick chick lesson – chewing is gross. Stop doing it on TV.
Keith, it’s not your fault: Stealing. No, not bases.
Good for you, Charlie Manuel (Manager of the Phillies). Not for your recent apology about stealing signs. I actually hope that you did have someone watching signs. I know, I know Belichick beat you to the publicity punch ump-teen years ago, but guess what? Who the f cares? Why is stealing signs illegal? Where I come from it’s called good intel. Sun Tzu called it preempting your rival’s strategies. So you know someone is throwing a curve, or a change, or a two-seam fast ball. The batter still has to nail it on the screws. You know someone is stealing? Still have to make the throw and the tag. Hey Rockies, stop whining. If you can’t adapt during the game, shame on you. I know that only 2% of pro baseball players have college degrees, but learning new signs doesn’t require a BA. Baseball: Stop being so damn petty. Media: Stop reporting stupid stuff. You are watering down a fantastic game. Can we turn this back into a game of men? Si! Se puede!
Off topic: Belichick, I don’t heart you, but I respect you. What I don’t respect is your freakin’ sleeve cut sweatshirt. I am not the first. I won’t be the last. I bet you think this article is about you. It’s not. But I think Carly would approve of me saying that your trademark gear is in no way dapper. Jim Tressel made the sweater vest. Jennifer Beals made the cut sweatshirt. Let her run with it.
It’s not your fault: Lessons from Bond and the Q factor.
If you are waiting for a Barry Bonds comment, you’re going to be waiting a long time. I am talking Bond, James Bond. Let’s take a look at the recent James Bond. The Daniel Craig Bond movies have brought a realistic and much needed it factor back to the famous character. Why and what does this have to do with baseball? I’m getting there. Q, your gadgets in the Brosnan Bond films were too much. Much too much. They weren’t realistic, which in turn made things boring. Baseball, dump the Q. In my humble opinion, unlike football, soccer, golf, tennis, hockey, croquet, (etc) you’re new technology has a negative effect on the game. New stadiums, harder balls (giggle), performance enhancers—if I wanted to watch homerun derby, I would catch it during the All Star break. (ehem, Yankee Stadium). Let’s reel it in. Bring baseball back…true baseball. Keep the traditions, live every day like you are upholding the legacy. Keep your legendary Wrigley fields, manufacture runs when necessary, play like a team, play every game to win…yes, all 162 of them.
As if I need more….Keith, it’s not your fault: Springsteen.
There have really only been a couple of great stories about modern baseball. With the exception of The Rookie (thank you, Dennis Quaid), the great baseball stories are all set in the past. Why? Because, baseball, you are like curdled milk. While golf, tennis, football, etc seem to have aged like men, baseball, you have aged like a woman. No offense ladies, as a 30-yr old woman, I tread lightly on this subject, but it’s a fact. Men age gracefully. Baseball, you are no man. You have gotten slower, you have become more fat, you have lost your edge, and you are in desperate need of a facelift. You used to be America’s favorite past time. You leave me watching the Natural and humming glory days.
Keith, I don’t blame you for falling asleep on the job. And, it really isn’t your fault. Baseball, I am mad at you. I want you to want to be better. I want to love your game again. It’s your stadium, it’s your dirt, it’s your freakin’ town. Baseball, you have your fans with you. They spend their own dough to get there, and they go to see you. Show’em what you’ve got guys. Get out there on the dirt and let’em know you’re there. (Insert ass slap from Paul Newman here).
“Baseball used to be a heck of a lot more exciting.” – Keith Hernandez
Okay, Keith Hernandez did not say that out loud, but I am willing to bet my seventh inning stretch rights that he damn well thought that to himself right before he fell asleep while covering the Mets (Ed. – watch the video here). Now Keith, I know baseball has been cracking down on performance enhancing drugs, but that does not extend to washed-up announcers. You are free to drug yourself until you are grinding your teeth and tapping your feet like Mark Wahlberg in the third act of Boogie Nights. I have several thoughts on how you could stay awake during your Mets game coverage: sugar free Rock Star? Hydroxycut? Better yet, call Ron Washington and ask him how he stayed awake that one time. I find that Coke Zero and listening to The Violent Femmes really works for me. Keith, you be Matt Damon. I’ll be Robin Williams. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault…You’re right Keith, baseball used to be a better game.” While we could talk about your feelings…let’s not. Let’s treat the cause, not the symptom. Let’s use a few examples to see how we can restore baseball to its glory days, so that the people paid to announce it aren’t falling asleep.
It’s not your fault, Keith: Crash Davis. Minor league player, life coach.
Let’s take a look at one of the best sports movies of all time, Bull Durham. If you disagree with that assessment, keep it to yourself. It’s not that I don’t care about your opinion, but I really don’t care about your opinion. Crash Davis was more than just a catcher and more than a character. He was everything that is right about baseball. Tough, crude, and macho. Where have you gone, Crash? And why is that purple-lipped A-Rod in your place? Do the Crashes even exist anymore? I too believe that Astroturf and the designated hitter should be outlawed. And I certainly believe in long, slow, soft, deep wet kisses that last three days. Crash, it’s the way you handled the game. The game was life. Never hit someone with you pitching hand, hold it like an egg, baseball as religion, the park as a cathedral. The game used to be sacred. Now it’s a long, drawn out season with 7 hr games. I love baseball, and even I only tune in for the World Series, games 3-7. C’mon, Meat, you’re now about contracts and publicity. It used to be an experience. It used to be a game of heroes. Now it’s just a game of players. Baseball: I just don’t have room in my heart for lazy, roided-up, over-paid lollygaggers. PS – quick chick lesson – chewing is gross. Stop doing it on TV.
Keith, it’s not your fault: Stealing. No, not bases.
Good for you, Charlie Manuel (Manager of the Phillies). Not for your recent apology about stealing signs. I actually hope that you did have someone watching signs. I know, I know Belichick beat you to the publicity punch ump-teen years ago, but guess what? Who the f cares? Why is stealing signs illegal? Where I come from it’s called good intel. Sun Tzu called it preempting your rival’s strategies. So you know someone is throwing a curve, or a change, or a two-seam fast ball. The batter still has to nail it on the screws. You know someone is stealing? Still have to make the throw and the tag. Hey Rockies, stop whining. If you can’t adapt during the game, shame on you. I know that only 2% of pro baseball players have college degrees, but learning new signs doesn’t require a BA. Baseball: Stop being so damn petty. Media: Stop reporting stupid stuff. You are watering down a fantastic game. Can we turn this back into a game of men? Si! Se puede!
Off topic: Belichick, I don’t heart you, but I respect you. What I don’t respect is your freakin’ sleeve cut sweatshirt. I am not the first. I won’t be the last. I bet you think this article is about you. It’s not. But I think Carly would approve of me saying that your trademark gear is in no way dapper. Jim Tressel made the sweater vest. Jennifer Beals made the cut sweatshirt. Let her run with it.
It’s not your fault: Lessons from Bond and the Q factor.
If you are waiting for a Barry Bonds comment, you’re going to be waiting a long time. I am talking Bond, James Bond. Let’s take a look at the recent James Bond. The Daniel Craig Bond movies have brought a realistic and much needed it factor back to the famous character. Why and what does this have to do with baseball? I’m getting there. Q, your gadgets in the Brosnan Bond films were too much. Much too much. They weren’t realistic, which in turn made things boring. Baseball, dump the Q. In my humble opinion, unlike football, soccer, golf, tennis, hockey, croquet, (etc) you’re new technology has a negative effect on the game. New stadiums, harder balls (giggle), performance enhancers—if I wanted to watch homerun derby, I would catch it during the All Star break. (ehem, Yankee Stadium). Let’s reel it in. Bring baseball back…true baseball. Keep the traditions, live every day like you are upholding the legacy. Keep your legendary Wrigley fields, manufacture runs when necessary, play like a team, play every game to win…yes, all 162 of them.
As if I need more….Keith, it’s not your fault: Springsteen.
There have really only been a couple of great stories about modern baseball. With the exception of The Rookie (thank you, Dennis Quaid), the great baseball stories are all set in the past. Why? Because, baseball, you are like curdled milk. While golf, tennis, football, etc seem to have aged like men, baseball, you have aged like a woman. No offense ladies, as a 30-yr old woman, I tread lightly on this subject, but it’s a fact. Men age gracefully. Baseball, you are no man. You have gotten slower, you have become more fat, you have lost your edge, and you are in desperate need of a facelift. You used to be America’s favorite past time. You leave me watching the Natural and humming glory days.
Keith, I don’t blame you for falling asleep on the job. And, it really isn’t your fault. Baseball, I am mad at you. I want you to want to be better. I want to love your game again. It’s your stadium, it’s your dirt, it’s your freakin’ town. Baseball, you have your fans with you. They spend their own dough to get there, and they go to see you. Show’em what you’ve got guys. Get out there on the dirt and let’em know you’re there. (Insert ass slap from Paul Newman here).
All the best, Keith.
Amy