A Midsummer Visit To The Baseball Hall of Fame

On the Friday that started July 4 weekend this year I took a trip to Cooperstown to visit the venerable National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum. I traveled with one of my advisors, and noted beer aficionado, Tom Teatro. In addition to the Hall, we toured the excellent Ommegang Brewery, taking not one, but two tasting tours. And drinking several other of their fine Belgian-inspired beers at the bar on premises.

But as good as the Ommegang visit was, we were really there to see the Hall of Fame; as always, it did not disappoint. A few photos follow.

One of the things we wanted to accomplish over the weekend was to play catch on Doubleday Field. We gave it our best shot - eventually making it onto the field and throwing the ball back and forth for a few minutes - but then the Assistant Groundskeeper threatened to call the Cooperstown PD if we didn't exit the premises immediately. He even whipped out a walkie-talkie and pretended to radio the cops, a move he's no doubt honed by booting legions of teenagers ... and anyone who just spent the day drinking at Ommegang.

Before we "trespassed" onto the field, we caught the end of this game. We couldn't tell what level it was, but it appeared to be a Babe Ruth League game (does that still exist?) - maybe 14 to 16 year olds. They didn't look like varsity high-schoolers. I think this kid made the final out of the game when the ump called strike three on a ball a foot off the plate. Surprisingly, my drunken calls of "Blue, what are you doin'!" didn't change the call.

One of the great things about visiting Cooperstown is perusing all the memorabilia shops. They have some incredible stuff in these stores, often juxtaposing old jerseys and other memorabilia of stars of different eras in cool ways. For example, this store window showed off one of the greatest baseball players of all time. And Derek Jeter.

Like I said, I love the random groupings of gear from great players that otherwise wouldn't be grouped together. Here you have jerseys for Koufax, Clemente, and Musial, three of my top 5 favorite players of all time, hanging on the wall side-by-side. Unless you happened to be touring the locker room of the Ryan's Favorite Player All Stars, I don't know where else you'd see these jerseys hanging together. Except here, in Cooperstown.

The first World Series I remember watching was the 1982 Series between the Cardinals and Brewers. For that reason, even though I'm no fan of either franchise, I've always had a fondness for those two particular teams. These Cardinal colors worn by the '82 team - a team that featured former Padres Ozzie Smith, Gene Tenace, George Hendrick, and Steve Mura in prominent roles - are colors I'll always associate with early 80s baseball, a great, but often underrated time to grow up and learn about the game.

Really liked this Gwynn jersey except for one thing: when did the Padres ever wear a black jersey? Was this from an All Star Game? Was Tony secretly on the Pirates for awhile? Am I colorblind? Neither Teatro nor I could figure it out. Granted, we'd had 8 beers each at Ommegang, but still ...

Respect.

Another choice grouping. What's fun about these groupings, other than just being cool to look at, is that you can imagine these guys playing together. For example, let's say I get Mantle, Koufax, and Schmidt on my team. Then I let you go ahead and pick your entire team and you take, oh I don't know, Bench, Gehrig, Morgan, Ozzie, Brooks Robinson, Teddy Ballgame, Mays, and Aaron. And Bob Gibson to pitch. But then I fill out my team with Bill Dickey, Jimmie Foxx, Rogers Hornsby, Robin Yount, Barry Bonds, and Babe Ruth. I don't know who wins that game, but I'd probably buy a ticket to watch it.

High comedy. You know I love Tony, but I'm not paying $149 for his signed anything (okay, maybe that's too far; I could see buying a game-worn jersey from the '84 Series or one of his game-used bats maybe). But that's obviously not the funny part. $99.95 for an Ozzie Guillen signature? $69.95 for Travis Hafner? I mean you couldn't make this up.

The next day we started early at the Hall of Fame. I didn't take photos of everything; no one could. There's just too much good stuff. I did take some photos of things that caught my eye, or that had special meaning to me, and it started with this Christy Mathewson jersey. Christy has always been one of my favorite players based on his exploits in the 1905 World Series, and he wore this jersey, if I remember correctly, during a tour of Japan.

Here's a stretched animal hide commemorating the Red Sox 1915 World Series victory. Why don't teams issue commeorative animal hides anymore? Baseball should really get back to that.

Look at Babe load his swing. If you're like me, even though you've read all the stories and seen all the numbers, you still look at the old Babe footage and wonder sometimes how he could have been as good as he was. But then I see a photo like this and realize it was probably because he had ridiculous hand-eye coordination, a ton of strength, very quick hands through the zone, and perhaps most of all, loaded his swing like a slingshot. I know he's just messing around here, but wasn't he always?

Musial's stirrups. Now I can say I saw them.

The Hall of Fame celebrates moments as much as it does individual players. Here you have George Brett's bat from the pine tar incident. I thought the presentation was done well because they included Brett's jersey - the classy Royals blue and white - and his glove, and didn't just make it about the bat. Brett was a monster whose career was memorable for so much more than that one moment.

A jersey Dave Winfield wore with the Padres. It must have been one of his last seasons in San Diego because I didn't know the Padres had moved to this lettering until after Winfield left town. But more importantly, you should have seen what other items shared space in this glass showcase. There was a Red Sox jersey that Pudge Fisk wore in '76, the bat and ball Jim Rice used to get his 400th total base in '78, the glove Gary Carter wore in his NL record-breaking 1,862nd game behind the plate, Wade Boggs' bat and batting glove from '89, his 7th consecutive year tallying 200+ hits, the bat Cal Ripken used to hit a bomb in the '91 All Star Game, the jersey and helmet Robin Yount wore when he got his 3000th hit, and the hat, glove and ticket stub from Nolan Ryan's 5000th strikeout game.

I'm just a humble baseball fan, but I'd say that's one heck of a glass showcase.

Here is the uniform Eddie Gaedel wore during his famous at bat for Bill Veeck's St. Louis Browns in 1951. I took the photo in honor of Kyle Gaedele, Eddie's grand-nephew, who the Padres had drafted a few weeks earlier. Incidentally, I'm currently reading Bill Veeck's autobiography - Veeck: As In Wreck - and the opening chapter is a solid firsthand account of the events leading up to the Gaedel at bat. I hightly recommend it.

After touring the museum upstairs, we went downstairs to the Plaque Gallery. As good as the presentation is upstairs, I still love the plaques the best. You could read these all day long, literally. Goose's plaque is great. I loved this line: "Incredibly durable, posted 52 saves of at least seven outs." From the vantage point of being a fan in 2011, that's an incredible statistic.

"An artisan with a bat ...."

The Artisan in close up.

I'd either forgotten or never knew that Clemente led the NL in batting four times, and finished his career with a .317 average. There really was nothing he couldn't do on a ball field.

I'd grin like a goofball too if my nickname was "The Man."

And the end of the hallway housing the Plaque Gallery is a place of honor for the First Five Hall of Fame inductees: Ruth, Mathewson, Wagner, Cobb, and Walter Johnson. It's all very well done.

Here's a wide view of the First Five and some of the more recent inductees that surround them. Tony Gwynn's plaque is to the left of the First Five.

Here's the glass ceiling that lets in sunlight on the First Five and other recent inductees. The sky that day was perfect. Look at how the clouds are reflected in the marble.

Two lefties that would have no trouble hitting at Petco.

This was genius. In the gift shop you have to pass through to leave the Hall they have these sets of 50 random cards for each team. They cost $9.50 each so obviously I purchased a Padres set without even hesitating.

Finally, I couldn't leave the Hall without snapping a photo of these three statues honoring Lou Gehrig, Jackie Robinson, and Roberto Clemente. The statues are placed so they greet you when you enter the Hall, and wish you well on your way out. There probably aren't three better ballplayers they could have chosen for this duty. Again, well done.

With The Padres At Fenway: Vol. 2

Game 2 of the Padres series in Boston ended a 5-4 Drinos win. Like last night, the game was mostly close, tonight's difference being that the Sox didn't explode for a 10-run inning. I'm telling you, if the Padres played the Red Sox in a 7-game series, and the Sox were forced to start Andrew Miller and Alfredo Aceves in games 1 and 2, the Padres just might pull that sucker out.

Among the notable events tonight was that Rizzo again hit a rocket to the deepest part of the ballpark, nearly 420 feet away from home plate. Tonight, however, Jacoby Ellsbury ran it down so it will read on the scorecard as a measly F8. Rizzo also doubled off the monster in the third and knocked in the winning run in the 7th on a groundout to Adrian Gonzalez. He - Rizzo - is a quality baseball player.

I walked to the game again tonight and passed by the Boston Common. This picture doesn't do it justice, but the Common is a broad green expanse with walking paths, tennis courts, park benches, statues, and what not. A very nice place.

My walk was down Boylston St. toward Fenway Park. I'm a big fan of buildings that reflect other buildings, but then again, who isn't?

Latos striding (lollygagging?) out to the bullpen before his start.

Chase stopped to sign a few autographs on his way out to stretch before the game. The more I learn about Chase, the more I realize that the only real flaw in his character, other than being a Steelers fan, is that he has no home run power whatsoever. Still, he was on base three more times tonight, pushing his season OBP is up to .392.

What on Earth were the Red Sox thinking with their logo in the 1950s?

Wachusett Brewing Company's own Green Monsta IPA. There are worse ways to spend $7.50.

This is the view from the Standing Room Only spots near the Pavilion Boxes along the first base line. I think these run for $20 face and you have a ledge to rest your food and adult beverages.

This Tony Gwynn fan was loving the SRO spot. He was a good guy. He saw I was wearing a Padres shirt of my own at one point - not nearly as beastly as his Gwynn jersey - and said, "Go Padres." To which I said, "You too," which made absolutely no sense then or now.

Latos deals through the sun rays.

I took this photo because I like the colors, but also because I think it says that Chase's career batting average with the bases loaded is .150. Huh? Can that be right? I thought it was easier to hit when the bases were loaded because pitchers have to throw strikes. I think we've found another flaw with Chase Headley!

It's always a bit sad when the sun sets on the longest day of the year. Now every day gets shorter for the next six months. #buzzkill

I was going to make a "why is Adrian doing Blue Steel?" joke, but the more I look at the photo, the less it reminds me of Zoolander, and the more it reminds me of just a scary looking person with an intense glare.

Just a random, poetic shot of the Monster.

The blessed sight (and site) of a Padres victory.

Finally, on my way out of the stadium I stopped and took this photo from behind Grandstand section 16. I really like the Grandstand sections around the infield, especially the last row near the concourse. If you can get a seat in the last row on the aisle you can avoid the tight rows and have easy ingress (and egress) to get beers and food and hit the restrooms during the game. And the views are solid, and old-timey. Baseball at its finest.

Sixto's '82 Season

I think this photo of Sixto Lezcano sums up baseball, and life, in the late 1970s.

But that's a discussion for another day. Today I'd like to talk about Sixto's 1982 season with the San Diego Padres.

Sixto came to the Padres on December 10, 1981, in one of the more fateful trades of baseball's modern era. The St. Louis Cardinals traded Sixto, Garry Templeton and a PTBNL (Luis DeLeon) to the Drinos for Steve Mura, a PTBNL (Al Olmstead) and Ozzie Smith. Ozzie obviously became a Hall of Famer and helped lead the Cardinals to a World Series title, two other World Series appearances, and countless franchising opportunities. Mura, though he'd only pitch three more seasons, started thirty games for the Cardinals' '82 World Series team. Al Olmstead sucked.

On the Padres side of the deal, Templeton, and to a lesser extent, DeLeon, helped the team to the '84 World Series, but Templeton, a pure monster in his first few seasons with St. Louis, never recaptured the All-Star potential he flashed in those early Redbird years. DeLeon pitched well in '82 and '83, less so in '84 and '85, and left to the Orioles as a free agent after the '85 season.

But what of Sixto?

He only played 1 1/2 seasons with the Drinos - shipped off in the middle of '83 ostensibly, I believe, to make room in the outfield for a couple of beasts named Kevin McReynolds and Tony Gwynn - but that one full season was a quietly beastish year that I won't soon forget. (I don't really remember it as it happened - '82 was my first cognizant summer - but it looks pretty beastish in retrospect.)

Playing RF and batting primarily fourth or fifth in the lineup, Sixto put together a solid season for a .500 ballclub. In 470 ABs, he triple slashed at .289/.388/.472, knocking 16 bombs and plating 84 ribeyes. He walked more than he struck out - always a nice little stat to feature - and even tripled 6 times. He crushed lefties to the tune of .326, but could also hit tough right-handers, batting .287 against right-handed starters. At 28 and in his prime, he was, to use Baseball-Reference's Similarity Scores, a lot like Dwight Evans.

Looking at the game logs on Baseball-Reference, I'm particulary enamored of his 4-6, 2 bomb, 4 ribeye game on April 23 against the eventual NL West Champion Braves. Sixto's 3-run bomb in the top of the 12th off Rick Camp provided the margin of victory. (Note: his first bomb of that game was a 4th inning smoker off HOFer Phil Niekro who happened to go 17-4 in '82.) Also worth mentioning is his work in a doubleheader sweep of the Reds on July 31. Sixto went 6-7 over the two games, hitting 3 bombs with 7 ribeyes. They're probably still talking about that in Cincinnati.

Finally, how many joints did Sixto smoke before taking this picture:


What a beast.

Petco Park On A Quiet Thursday In January

Last Thursday afternoon - well before the debacle at Qualcomm on Sunday - I arrived in San Diego and took a stroll down to Petco Park. As the photos above can attest, the day was absolutely perfect.

As I walked around the ballpark enjoying the perfect warmth of a sunny 69 degree day, I imagined Jed Hoyer sitting inside in his office, reading some scouting reports, chatting up some agents by telephone and likely housing a fish taco lunch. Then I thought about his office at his last job, probably in some early 20th century windowless tank at Fenway, the frigid winds of a Boston January seeping through the crumbling concrete as he scarfed down a quick bowl of clam chowder in between "emergency" calls from Theo Epstein, pressing him for inconsequential data about some overpriced free agent.

And then I thought to myself: well played moving to the Diego, Jed. Well played.

Tony

The Tony Gwynn Topps rookie card. An iconic image to Padres fans and any baseball card collector with even an ounce of pride. Looking at it, even on a computer screen, fills my heart with all things good and true and happy.

I remember when I first saw the card. My Mom and Dad drove us out to Timberlake for an afternoon barbecue and swimming. Actually, I don't know if we barbecued. My family in the early '80s was more the "pick up a few sandwiches and sodas and grab a corner of a picnic table" type. Anyway, on the way we stopped at a gas station and my Dad, as per his usual practice, bought me a few packs of cards. Probably didn't cost much. If I looked on the internet I could probably find a link to some site that could tell me the price of a Topps wax pack in Central Illinois in the summer of 1983, but I'm not going to look for that at the moment. I'm a busy man.

The summer of 1983 was the first year I really collected cards and really remember stuff about baseball. I know this because my card collection exploded that year. Sure, I have a few '82 Topps cards (more than a few, actually) but they always seemed from a remote time, as if out of some distant - yet also recent - past. My theory on this is that Dad probably just bought packs because he liked cards and wanted to get me interested. I may have said I was interested but I have no recollection of that. My first memories of asking my Dad to buy me packs and then opening them was in 1983. (Added to this, the first World Series I remember watching was the previous Fall, the Fall of '82, when Bruce Sutter struck out a Brewer to win Game 7. I have no recollection whatsoever of the '81 World Series between the Yankees and Dodgers.)

But I have digressed, and I aplogize. So I'm sitting in the car on a summer day opening a Topps wax pack and we arrived at the Timberlake parking lot and the AC went off and - I remember this like it was yesterday - I was sitting there as the car heated up flipping through the last cards in the pack when I came across a Padre I didn't recognize. A cool, kind of funny looking Padre, no less. This was no Terry Kennedy or Eric Show. This guy had a fro and was running in an unathletic way with his butt high in the air, like and old man might run if his back hurt. Or like Terry Kennedy or Eric Show might run if they allowed the Topps photographer to shoot them on the basepaths.

This was my first introduction to Tony Gwynn and needless to say I was intrigued.

I sat staring at the card for a minute then flipped it over and looked at the statistics. Words like Walla Walla and Amarillo and Hawaii jumped out at me. Those places were so exotic I was only vaguely aware they were even places. What also jumped out at me were the high numbers under the .AVG column. That was one of the columns my Dad said was important. And this Tony guy was good in that category.

Pretty sure I stashed the card in the car and then went off to swim in the lake for the day. I'm not a huge fan of going to lakes to swim. I would much rather sit around looking at baseball cards.