It was the sound of disappointment. It was the echo of a lost era. Or maybe it was a mixture of the two in New York several weeks ago as Mets pitcher Francisco Rodriguez battered his girlfriend’s father and America saw baseball in 2010 for what it is: a lost cause.
With September rapidly approaching, we scramble to throw away those May delusions of grandeur—the Rockies winning the National League, the Pirates winning on the road or Carlos Zambrano being a happy dude—and start drawing up playoff brackets full of old-timers and newcomers. But this year seems different. Strikeouts are up, biceps are down and umpire Jim Joyce still has a job.
Who the heck is Dallas Braden? The perfect game club sure is becoming less exclusive when you consider that this kid has a career earned run average over 4.20. My cousin is thinking about getting back into baseball—maybe he can throw an MLB no-no too. If there ever was a time for a young pitcher, that time is now. Trevor Cahill and David Price are dominating the American League, Josh Johnson is downright dirty and Cliff Lee has only walked 11 batters all season.
Columnists are crying that 2010 is boring, but this “year of the pitcher” isn’t necessarily bad for baseball. Games are shorter and numbers aren’t so ballooned. We tend to forget that baseball has been around for a long time, and for most of it, 61 homers in a season was a magic number. We follow sports, and baseball especially, because of the unpredictability of it all; there’s always a chance for 9 runs in the ninth to win the ballgame, just like Colorado did in St. Louis on July 6.
By putting the emphasis on pitching again, it gives baseball a different look. Longtime fans are intrigued, and new ones are taught the value of a sacrifice fly. Mark Teixeira and Alex Rodriguez each hit it out 3 times in a single game this year. The year of the pitcher just makes you appreciate the Yankees that much more.
Speaking of New York, before 2010 “600” was just another number to me. But as of August 4, the reference makes me cringe. With that number, I think Barry Bonds, I think Mitchell Report, I think HGH, and now I think of Alex Rodriguez, who got his 600th long ball this month.
If you aren’t tired of reading about steroids in your hometown newspaper, then you must be living under a rock or with Roger Clemens’ family. But as much as we hate to hear about it, most of our heroes are shams and many of our records are tainted. Alex Rodriguez’s “achievement” comes in a season that was supposed to be clean—finally. But the cheaters steal the spotlight again.
In a July that should have been about the Rays’ and Padres’ excellent seasons, A-Rod (and his 0.265 batting average) was mentioned on ESPN nightly. Let’s hope he doesn’t hit 757 homers—
I don’t think Cooperstown has room for that many asterisks.
And while A-Rod has become known for being busy with the ‘roids, Jim Joyce and Co. have injected their share of bad calls into games. The Tigers have been on the rough end of two horrid calls, as pitcher Armondo Galarraga tossed the “imperfect game” in which Joyce cost him perfection with a bad call, and Johnny Damon was called out on strikes against the Braves on a ball that was in a different area code than the strike zone.
Some are calling for instant review on every play, but the purists know where that would end. I’d hate to drive to Tropicana Field to see what would seem like a football game. Games would be longer and less controversial. Fans love to cheer, but they really love to boo. Baseball is not perfect. And that’s why we love it.
Let’s hope Rockies star pitcher Ubaldo Jimenez finds that groove again, and Padres outfielder Chris Denorfia gets a World Series ring. Because the real heroes of this era aren’t the shining stars—they’re the ones who will bring us out of the dark ages.