Handbill Handout

I'm stealing a transcription from another website just in case that site ever goes away because I think it's worth keeping around. Below is Vin Scully eulogizing Ernie Harwell while doing play by play. Vin probably knows he's the last of the old breed now, the last of the baseball broadcasters who aren't self-promoting hairdos trying to show off their big voices or the overly analytical analysts who turn baseball into an exercise in algebra. He is the last of a generation that tried to tell stories because one of the great joys of the slow pace of baseball is (or rather should be) the time to breathe and enjoy the weather and tell stories in between play. Those old school guys are (were) the sort of people you (or I, anyway) would want next to you in some minor league park somewhere shooting the breeze on a lazy afternoon. Anyway, thanks to whoever runs this site for transcribing this. "I have a problem and I hope you will understand and bear with me. One of ...

There are people who wax poetically about the springtime and baseball, about how it is a time of hope and renewal and optimism. To them, spring is a time of limitless possibilities and endless horizons where the sky is the limit. Have I hit my cliché quota yet? I hope so. To me, spring is a time when the weather gets a bit warmer and I can spend more time outside watching entertainment than inside. Still, I my curmudgeon’s heart will grudgingly admit that there are certain comforts in the seasonal cycle. Certain patterns that emerge that re-educate you about how life really is for most people. Last Saturday the Mrs. and I made a spur of the moment decision to head over to see the Newark Bears for our first ballgame of the season. The Bears are part of the Atlantic League which is an independent league meaning that all the ball clubs have no affiliation with major league clubs and the rosters are composed of youngsters hoping to get signed and start on the way up, slightly older g...

They say that every time you go to the ballpark you have a chance to see something you never saw before. Whoever they are, years of experience and hundreds of ballgames have taught me that this is one of those rare instances where “they” are right. A few weeks ago on a bright, sunny late summer Sunday the Mrs. and I strolled into my favorite ballpark, Centennial Field in Burlington, Vermont. Centennial Field is, as you would imagine from the name over 100 years old though the current grandstand is a bit newer than that having been built in 1922. It’s a nice, well worn old park that really feels like the minors unlike the newer, big-market venues which, while nice feel more like mini-stadia instead of simple ball fields. At Centennial Field there are no video boards, no radar gun scoreboards, and no constantly blaring music that removes any chance of conversation while the game is going on. What is there is baseball, tiny dugouts, a visitor’s bullpen that sits back to back with the frye...

I'm not wishing for the end of summer or anything, but I am looking forward to see how this shakes out . It's always great to see the best players on the international stage. Takes the edge off my disappointment that the Habs aren't going to play a game at the Big Owe this season after all, though that's for a good reason too - the Als are having a great year and need the place for a possible playoff date. Summer sports? Well, I am heading to my favorite minor league ballpark this weekend, though it is not a favorite of the players . Ah well, progress is inevitable and I suppose its inevitable that small towns will be run out of organized minor league ball. Players want big, well-lit luxury locker rooms before they get out of A ball, never mind the majors and there's money to be vacuumed from folks in bigger cities who want the charm of minor league ball even as the prices for tickets and concessions climb to what major league tickets cost just a decade or so ...

Seems like a lot longer, actually. New York was a different city then. My life was a different life. Regardless, 15 years ago today I witnessed the greatest sporting event I have ever seen in person. Or ever will see in person There are other games that I’ve been fortunate to see in person that come close. September 7, 1996 when Canada beat Sweden in 2 overtimes in the World Cup of Hockey semi-final in Philadelphia . I remember Mats Sundin getting roughly a million and a half scoring chances and cashing in on none of them. I remember Tommy Salo playing the game of his life in goal for the Swedes. I remember the Philly fans, hockey sophisticates all, yelling"C'mawn Lindrows" and not caring a ton for the rest of the action in what was a classic international contest. I sometimes wonder what the atmosphere for that game would've been like if it was played in Montreal where I was lucky enough to attend a couple of WCOH games in 2004. Another event I was luckey en...

There is a certain cynical part of my brain that says the recent defections of conservative columnists and Colin Powell to the Obama camp is based on the realization that the country is screwed for at least the next few years. The strategy? "Let's put the other party in charge so whatever happens next is hung on their neck and we can breeze back in as saviors four years hence." Never mind the positive revenue impact on the conservative press which will have a ratings/circulation/web site viewing windfall as like-minded folk gather to fulminate at the perceived horrors of a Democratic administration. Note that this has nothing to do with my own political inclinations (or stock holdings, such as they are) but rather my opinion of how humans behave when power is at stake or when a contest is underway. The World Series will get underway Wednesday in Tampa in front of what could be an interesting crowd. Most Rays fans were, in all likelihood, Yankees fans until about a month a...