Life in the Minors

Voiceless: The CBA's negative impact on minor leaguers

2011-12-03T14:35:00.003-06:00

Around 2 a.m. the baby began crying. Elena, already with a mind of her own, decided that the middle of the night was a perfect opportunity to play.

Eventually she went back to sleep. My mind began to drift, and I wandered from the comfy confines of my bed, my Venus at my side, to the uncomfy confines of an old friend: a shoddy bus seat.

Surrounded by other guys with the moon providing the only light, the engine whirred as Ryan Adams burst through my earbuds.

“Going nuclear…nuclear…”>

The wilderness separating two working class towns passed as I glanced outside the bus window, my heart heavy but my wallet light.

“Give me an answer!!! Give me an answer!!”

And suddenly the baby was crying again.

I awoke from my travels, the memory flickering but failing to flee, as thoughts filled the slow synapses of my brain. The memory had no doubt been prompted by two emails that I received recently from former teammates. Both were upset about the recent CBA. I couldn’t sleep as I thought of these emails and the feeling of being on the road again with no money and a dream, and McDonald’s providing the fuel for each night’s game.

So at 3:47 a.m. I got up and wrote this.

As most readers know, baseball recently announced its new five-year collective bargaining agreement. As opposed to both football and basketball, MLB reps and the MLBPA bargained behind closed doors and hammered out a deal.

Yes, we should cheer. (As did this columnist.)

Yet there was just one problem with this bargaining process. The majority of professional baseball players had no voice during these negotiations.

The Major League Baseball Player’s Association represents only major league players and players on the 40-man roster. However, the vast majority of professional players under contract with MLB teams toil in the minor leagues. The player’s union does not represent these players.

Without a union and without a voice, minor league salaries have barely budged in the last 35 years. Conversely, average major league salaries have increased by almost 7000 percent. The gains derived from three decades of great prosperity in the game—including gains made in the business of the minor leagues—have been distributed only at the very top.

Each time a bargaining agreement is reached it impacts minor leaguers’ lives. For instance, the 2006 CBA made a significant change to the Rule 5 draft. One of the only vehicles for mobility once a minor leaguer is locked into his initial seven-year contract, the 2006 CBA pushed back the Rule 5 eligibility requirements by an entire year. The result was a direct, negative impact on minor leaguers. And not a single soul represented minor league players through the negotiating process.

During this year’s negotiations, MLB owners pushed for a mandatory slotting system for the amateur draft (here are some of my old thoughts on this). If implemented, players drafted in the top rounds of the draft would have been unable to negotiate signing bonuses. Since virtually all draftees first enter the minor leagues, this too would have impacted minor league players. Minor leaguers earn only between $5000 and $10,000 for an entire season of play. This makes the negotiation of the initial signing bonus very important, as many players rely on the signing bonus as a source of income throughout their minor league career. Moreover, around ninety percent of minor leaguers never reach the major leagues, so the negotiation of the initial signing bonus often represents their only chance to negotiate with a MLB team.

Thankfully, a mandatory slotting system was not instituted, but the alternative is almost as egregious. The union and owners agreed to place a cap on the amount a team can spend on the draft. While less intrusive than mandatory slotting, the change will still negatively impact minor league players, as it will likely reduce the overall amount spent on signing bonuses.

What did the union get in return for these changes? Greater wealth for players on an MLB roster. In 2006, they gained an increase in salaries for players on the MLB 40-man roster. This year, they gained a substantial increase in the minimum salary for MLB players, who will now earn at minimum $500,000 when the agreement expires in 2016. Meanwhile, the majority of professional baseball players—the minor leaguers—will probably still be earning below $10,000 in 2016. After all, their salaries have barely budged in three decades, and without representation in the bargaining process, there will be no incentive for owners to increase their salaries.

Knowing this might occur, I wrote to both MLB and MLBPA during the negotiations. I knew my efforts would most likely be futile, but just as the author of an amicus curiae feels compelled to weigh in on a Supreme Court issue, I felt the need to give my thoughts.

So yes, we should cheer baseball for reaching a new deal, but we shouldn't cheer them for leaving minor leaguers without a voice. But, hey, at least the big leaguers are seeing their lives improve.

(See the summary of the 2011 CBA here.)

Note: I'm not blaming MLBPA for the negative effects that each CBA has on minor league players. Their duty extends only towards the players that they represent. When negotiations affect minor league players, it does so because a subject of bargaining tangentially extends into the realm of minor leaguers, such as the Rule 5 draft and the Rule 4 draft. Without MLBPA bargaining over these matters, MLB could unilaterally impose whatever changes they desired without any resistance.

The system--not MLBPA--is at fault.

Tobacco and Baseball

2010-11-16T09:45:00.002-06:00

Dip in a lip.

That’s the image that greeted me when I recently turned into a postseason thriller.

And spit.

A single close-up from the camera revealed the unmistakable tobacco bulge. A multitude of others also witnessed the brown stain on the lip. I think its time to curb these images, as MLB needs to ban the on-field usage of tobacco.

According to one study, around a third of MLB players use smokeless tobacco, and a fourth of minor leaguers use the substance. In my estimation, the true numbers are probably higher. Tobacco is legal and athletes are grown men, but a ban has nothing to do with them, even though tobacco cessation would obviously be beneficial to individuals. Instead a ban focuses on young eyes.

Research shows that teens increased their smokeless tobacco usage in recent years. Like it or not, athletes are role models (sorry, Charles Barkley), as kids emulate them. Athletes today enjoy greater exposure than ever. Consequently, their tobacco usage gains more exposure. The World Series averaged 19.4 million viewers in 2009. Though World Series ratings were lower this year, overall playoff ratings were strong. And the Internet offers seemingly endless possibilities for exposure.

Some experts think this exposure has contributed to the increase in smokeless tobacco usage by teens. Despite smoking percentages decreasing, it seems “dip in a lip” is making a strong comeback.

This is worrisome. Though less likely to cause death than cigarettes, smokeless tobacco contains 28 different carcinogens linked to numerous varieties of cancer. If you’ve ever seen a picture of a guy without a jawbone, you’ve seen its nasty capabilities.

I must admit that I am not without fault. Though never a frequent user, I tried the distasteful substance during my playing days. As a minor leaguer, my behavior broke the rules, as minor league baseball banned the usage of tobacco products in 1993.

Currently, the minor leagues impose a $500 fine for a player caught with tobacco and a $500 fine for the team’s manager. These fines, in comparison to minor league salaries, are exorbitant. One would think that they would sufficiently deter players from using. Yet they don’t.

Research shows that the likelihood of being caught is more important than the severity of punishment in deterring undesirable actions. Since very few players are ever actually caught using tobacco despite overt usage, the severe fines for minor leaguers have little deterrent effect. A system of lower fines with actual enforcement would more effectively reduce on-field tobacco usage.

Major League Baseball, as opposed to the minors, doesn’t even have a ban on tobacco usage. Players can pack an entire can of dip in their mouth and walk up to the plate with spit spilling down their chin if they so desire. No one will stop them, and millions of kids—future possible tobacco users—will witness it.

This use should be prohibited during games. MLB and the player’s union should work together on this issue and take a sensible approach: ban on-field usage of tobacco, implement a system of reasonable punishments, and actually enforce the ban with regularity.

Players will no doubt balk at such a move as an infringement upon their liberties, but if such a ban spares lives and jaws, then the policy would be worthwhile.

A couple of links for further reading:

http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE63D4QZ20100414

http://blogs.abcnews.com/theworldnewser/2010/04/chewing-skoal-baseball-field-ruined-life.html

New "Suitcase Chronicles" entry: When Old Friends Get a Ring

2010-11-05T08:31:00.008-05:00

Yes, this is a rarity these days, but I took a few minutes away from summary judgment lectures to put some thoughts on paper (so to speak). It's about my former Giants' teammates winning it all.

So, without further introduction, here's an excerpt from my latest "Suitcase Chronicles" entry:

Some people told me recently I contributed to this championship moment simply by playing in the minors with these guys. Perhaps, in some distant, metaphysical way. But I downplay this. Nothing I did ever prepared Posey for catching Lincecum. Nothing I ever did helped Romo throw his signature slider. They learned these things on their own. I taught them nothing.

Yet we were friends, and we trekked a common journey together. Though my journey ended sooner than theirs, I still enjoyed the moments with them.

We seldom talk anymore. Life's present and future plans all too often stifle old friendships. Memories, however, continue to smolder. It is through these memories that I build my own World Series ring, and I'll carry this invisible ring with me until the day I die.

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/prospects/prospect-diary/2010/2610888.html

Latinos and those things called steroids

2010-07-09T13:01:00.003-05:00

I'm a little slow to comment on this, but there were a couple of articles that I wanted to pass along to you from the past week. The first comes from Baseball America, and it's about top Latino prospects testing positive for steroids just before the international signing period began. It's a story that should've gotten a LOT more attention but didn't.

Here's an excerpt:

MLB required 40 of the top Dominican prospects from this year's international signing class to register with the league last month, a process that included consenting to a drug test and to investigations into their ages and identities.

Baez said he recently met with the parents of about 20 players who reportedly tested positive for anabolic steroids, which is consistent with the word going around Dominican baseball circles: that nearly half of the 40 players who registered tested positive.

(Read the rest here.)

I almost did a double take when I read this. HALF of the tests came back positive. Wow.

This is very significant. The signing bonuses that top Dominican prospects are being paid has grown considerably in the past ten years, with Michael Ynoa signing with Oakland $4.25 million in 2008. Several other top prospects now receive bonuses in the millions each year.

This places them on par with first round draft picks in MLB's Rule 4 draft. They're certainly talented individuals, but they're very young, and very raw. And as this year's testing results show, some might be using steroids.

Usage of PEDs of course would inflate their natural tools. It would mean that scouts evaluations of them would be tainted. A 16-year-old throwing 97 on steroids is very different from a 16-year-old throwing 97 without steroids.

With teams paying the equivalent of first round money to these players, they need to make every assurance that their age is correct and that they are steroid free. Otherwise they're likely to see less return on their investment.

And according to one minor leaguer (who was incensed), it's not fair to other players either. Having been given huge signing bonuses, these players automatically move above other players on teams' prospect list. They're given far more chances than players who receive less money. Perhaps these chances are not duly earned.

One Latino friend told me that he doesn't suspect widespread usage of steroids by young prospects, but one has to wonder given this report. (See my previous post on buscones and drugs here.)

It's certainly alarming.

Minor Leaguers Testing Positive

On a related note, five minor leaguers recently tested positive for steroid use. All were suspended 50 games. All were Latino.

This is very disappointing. The rate of steroid use has declined sharply in baseball--especially in the minor leagues where testing has been in place since 2001. In my six years of playing, I in fact knew of very few players using PEDs. (See my previous Sporting News post on HGH here.) Not a large percentage of minor leaguers are testing positive, but it seems too high of a percentage are Latino. (Read this excellent article on steroids and Latino peloteros.)

In talking to Latinos, it seems sometimes they're just getting bad information. An uncle or friend they trust will tell them they can take such and such product and not test positive. And it seems steroids are very easy to get in most of their home countries.

I'm not sure there's an easy solution to this problem. Testing involves numerous countries, and it involves kids of a very young age. But it is a problem, and steps need to be taken. Perhaps increased testing combined with greater education would help. Maybe a more informed body of players--combined with a fear of testing positive--would reduce the usage.

Hopefully rates will go down, but in the near future expect more positive tests from Latino ballplayers.

Note: I'm not just picking on Latino ballplayers. There are obviously still Americans using as well, though perhaps not in as high of a percentage. In certain levels of baseball in the U.S., such as at the junior college level, more testing is still needed. We need to keep cleaning this game up.

Trading Advisory: Time to make the draft more interesting

2010-06-30T13:36:00.006-05:00

Things that can be traded/swapped:

Baseball Cards
Rare Coins
Candy (think Halloween when you got all that candy corn that you hated and had to trade it to the weird kid that loved it)
Spit (sorry, I had to)
Favors
Animal Furs
Carbon Allotments
Sea Shells
Wives (see "Wife Swap")
Jewelry
Humans
Almost anything else in this world

Things that can't be traded:

MLB Rule 4 Draft Picks

The reason usually given for this is that the draft is built to enable the weakest teams to rebuild. Give weak teams top picks, and they'll reload with top talent.

Yet in past drafts signability issues inhibited some teams from acquiring the best available talent at their slotted pick (see Ricky Porcello, J.D. Drew, Buster Posey, etc, etc. etc.). Cash-strapped teams instead picked slightly less talented kids deemed more signable.

Instead of harming low budget teams, the ability to trade picks might actually benefit them. They could trade down slightly, still get the caliber of player they would've otherwise have drafted, and also receive some sort of compensation in return.

For example, let's say Pittsburgh has the first pick in the 2011 draft, and suddenly Superman decides to play baseball. Yet Superman is demanding a $30 million signing bonus--otherwise he'll just continue to wear his ugly, too-snug blue suit, and continue to hit criminals instead of homeruns. Well, Pittsburgh can't afford this bonus. In the current system, they might simply skip Superman and instead take Johnny HS Shortstop, who will sign for 1/10th of Superman's asking price. Superman will fall in the draft to a team that can afford his asking price.

With the ability to trade picks, Superman will still fall to a team that has more money. But in order to obtain him, they will have to trade up in the draft. Pittsburgh will be able to negotiate with other teams and take the best offer. They might still end up with Johnny HS Shortstop, but they'll also be compensated one or more already established prospects.

This is a more free-market system, and so some will fear its usage. It allows for less control, but I believe it would work very well.

The trading of picks would also make the draft much more interesting, and the draft needs a serious shot of RedBull right now (as does Bud Selig). More options and more possibilities equates with more speculation. The draft becomes a chess match, and drama ensues.

There's been some talk of doing this very thing. (Darren Heitner's piece, and comments from Michael Weiner of the MLBPA.) In fact it will probably be discussed in the negotiations for the next CBA, along with another suggestion: a strict slotting system.

I understand the merits of a slotting system, and in the past I have brought up the idea of using it, but only if the savings were then distributed to minor league players. Any money taken away from draftees should be shifted to the pockets of starving minor leaguers.

The likelihood of this re-distribution is low though. Instead, the savings would not be passed on to minor leaguers, but would instead go to the overall budget of teams. Minor leaguers would remain poor (see my Baseball America piece on minor league salaries here.)

Lost in all of this is the fact that the MLBPA will be negotiating with owners on this and a host of other issues. Many decisions will have a direct influence on minor league players, and these players will have not a single sole representing their interests. Instead they'll just get swept to the side like Friday night garbage, gladly accepting the shillings that they're given, worrying not about collective bargaining agreements, but instead about curveballs and lifelong quests.

New Suitcase Chronicles entry

2010-06-29T14:20:00.002-05:00

Excerpt from my latest "Suitcase Chronicles" article, in which I reflect on the differences between college ball and pro ball: Hope you enjoy!

Emotion is often conditioned out of players in pro ball. Early in my career, I sprinted back to the dugout after my initial spring training pitching appearance. An older teammate started laughing.

"Oh, you run back to the dugout. That's cool," he said with sarcasm, the official language of minor league baseball.

"Yeah, it's called hustling," I replied.

"Save the hustling for when it actually matters. That right there is just eye-wash."

He then told me to watch some of the big leaguers pitch.

"They're all business," he said. "The only place they run is to the bar after the game."

Hope you enjoy!

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/prospects/prospect-diary/2010/2610241.html

Baseball, Rainbows, and Pearl Jam

2010-06-21T17:12:00.008-05:00

I usually don't like big arena concerts. Well, that's not completely true.

I'm not a big arena snob. I don't dislike them just because it's cool to dislike them. It's just that I usually prefer smaller venues. I'd rather see Blind Pilot with 20 other people than see an Eagles reunion with 20,000 other people. Maybe it's just that I'm socially claustrophobic. Or maybe I just like cheaper beer--not to mention cheaper admission tickets. Either way, I usually find the smaller concerts to resonate on a more personal level.

As is the case with most generalizations, there are always exceptions. Recently in fact I went to a large venue concert that was not only outstanding, but also resonated as clear as a perfect fifth.

The concert was Pearl Jam. The venue: Scottrade Center in St. Louis. It ranks among the best shows I've ever seen.

One of my favorite teenage bands, the gods of flannel and grunge packed the house. They played almost all their greatest hits, but this was not the reason for their excellence that night. Eddie Vedder, their irreplaceable frontman, was the reason for my captivation.

Vedder controlled an entire arena of souls that night. With each movement of his hand and each note of his voice, every limb of every body reacted. He was a true master of puppetry.

One moment in particular stood out. He neared the edge of the stage as the night neared its inevitable end. With a bottle of wine in one hand, he took a seat upon a speaker. He placed the wine on the floor beside him and lit a cigarette. The guitars and drums continued to play behind him as he took a long draw from the cig. He exhaled slowly. With the smoke swirling around him, he took a look around the entire stadium. His long hair became curtains as he glanced onward. He smiled. And continued to smile as the music played on. Another drag on the cigarette. Another look around, now with his legs crossed. Another smile.

He was a man on top of the world. In that moment, he was free of everything. Completely satisfied, the worries of the world disappeared for a fleeting instant. All the killings in Darfur, all the oil in the gulf, all the dirt on the walls of one's personal existence. For a moment they all ceased.

I don't know if Vedder is a happy man. He might wake up every morning angry, with an insatiable desire to torture baby bunnies. But I know in that moment I was looking at a man in a state of contentment. It was a beautiful thing.

I once dreamt of gaining that feeling from baseball. For six years I rode the rainbow it offered. I fiercely clung to its slickness, yearning for the ultimate gratification that it might one day deliver. Yet I never reached the end of this rainbow. The ride was as brief as a ride at an amusement park.

But there are other rainbows to be found. I'll spot one soon, and when I do, I'll start climbing again.

Review of "A Player to Be Named Later"

2010-06-10T12:51:00.005-05:00

I guess I miss the locker room a little bit. Perhaps that's the reason I recently decided to view "A Player to Be Named Later." It's a documentary which profiles four minor league players over the 2001 season of the Indianapolis Indians, an affiliate of the Milwaukee Brewers.

Honestly, I found it only mildly entertaining.

Some might think I dislike the very genre of documentaries. In this world of 10 second soundbites, video games, and attention spans shorter than a subway stop, a lot of people have dismissed documentaries as dead as the AM radio.

Others might simply think that since I've seen the sausage being made, I don't find the making of it interesting.

But this is not the case. I tend to like documentaries--usually the rougher the better. If I'm watching a documentary on open heart surgery, for instance, I want to see some blood flying around. I don't want to just see someone talking about severing and sewing an aorta, I want to see it. I want the rawness that documentaries sometimes provide, and which Hollywood never provides.

So despite its tendency to lead to open heart surgery, the making of sausage is usually interesting.

"A Player to Be Named Later" does show some of baseball's inner workings (sausage making), but in focusing on Triple-A, the viewer finds mostly older guys whose careers are nearing an end. The youthful optimism--not to mention youthful energy--is gone for them. The result is a film starved action. It also has less drama than it should.

The movie does have its moments. My favorite character is Brad Tyler. He's an aging veteran of 32 years who has spent 11 seasons in the minors. He knows his career is nearing an end. Yet he still wishes to play. He's no longer a starry-eyed 22 year old bouncing around in the Midwest League, but in his mind and heart he believes he can still play, despite hitting only .248 the previous season. Baseball has been all he has known for his adult life. How can he turn his back on it now?

Tyler has a family though. They follow him around wherever he goes. He's quickly released by Indianapolis early in the season. He goes to Mexico for a couple of months. The family follows and together they live in a little shack. He is picked up by Cincinnati and is sent to Louisville. His family follows. At the end of the season he's even shipped to Double-A Chattanooga. This time it seems his family stays behind in Louisville.

It sounds like all this moving around and familial stress would make for a great story, and I believe it could've been. It's just that once Tyler is released by Indianapolis he's almost treated as a supporting character. We don't see enough of him. We're instead given snapshots of his year, such as when he misses his daughter's birthday because he was sent to Louisville. The storyline is never completely developed.

This is one of the weaknesses of the film as a whole. It focuses on four players, but I'm rarely drawn to any of them. Marco Scutaro makes for an interesting story, but I don't see enough of him either. We're just given bits and pieces of each player, and the result is a fractious picture.

The chosen men are well-spoken, but they aren't talkative enough. Many ballplayers are somewhat guarded when it comes to the media, and this proves true in this documentary. In order to make these things work, you need some people with personality. From the very beginning, all four of these men seem a little too tame.

As usual, the wives are slightly better. They're more open to discussing their feelings and the inner-working of the family. They even talk of allowing their husbands to "chase a dream," as if its a requirement in their life. Everything else should be put on hold.

The film does give the viewer inside access, which is no doubt a joy to many. Discussions with Brewers' personnel are given, providing the viewer a look at how ballplayers are seen and evaluated by clubs.

Since it has this inside access though, a tremendous amount of editing has no doubt been done. As part of the agreement to provide access, I would assume the Brewers reserved the right to edit (I know I would if I were the GM). The result is that yes, inside access is offered, but there's no conflict. Somehow we only hear one or two F-bombs in the entire movie. And we never see a disagreement between players or the coaching staff.

We're watching men with testosterone for Zeus' sake. Even in Triple-A there should be some conflict.

I've been saying for years that the real drama and action happens in A ball. Here the guys are younger. Far fewer have families, and so they carouse at the bars much more often. They pick up girls and get hammered. They bring girls back to their hotels. They have poker tournaments all night. They yell at each other more often. They have pre-game antics in the clubhouse. They do crazy stuff in the showers. They erupt after bad games. They interact with host families.

They're still growing up.

If someone could somehow capture that, then they would have something.

But that type of access would be hard to get. That's most likely the stuff for a work of fiction (see my review of "Sugar".

"A Player to Be Named Later" is a film to be seen by hardcore baseball fans. These fans will most likely find it somewhat satisfying, but in the end it will simply leave them yearning for more.

Q&A: War, Korea, and Sadowski

2010-06-01T13:52:00.010-05:00

Hope everyone's Memorial Day went well. Since a large number of our veterans served in the Korean War between 1950 and 1953, I thought this would be a good time to mix War, Korea, and Ryan Sadowski (Yes, Giants' fans, he's still alive). He's my best bud after all, and he's in Korea. And I've hardly mentioned him in months.

Sadowski's currently playing for the Lotte Giants in South Korea after briefly playing for the San Francisco Giants last season (no escape from the Gigantes). He has a very keen eye for things, and so I wanted to get his perspective not only on Korean baseball, but also on the ongoing crisis between North Korea and South Korea, specifically as it relates to baseball players.

Here goes:

GB: What has been the hardest thing about playing in another country, specifically about playing in S. Korea?

RS: The most difficult part of being a foreign player in the KBO are the expectations that are set before you arrive. I had a sub-par start in my first month and was battling some elbow discomfort and people were ready to send me home. After some rest (I skipped 1 start) and 5 consecutive quality starts, everybody loves me...for now.

GB: Has the level of baseball been what you expected?

RS: I really didn't know what to expect. I have heard people say that this compared to AA baseball and others say that it compares to AAAA baseball (above Triple A/below MLB). Players do things that would be considered Bush League back home on a regular basis. They watch home-runs constantly and fist pump after strikeouts in blowouts. They lean into pitches and draw lines for umpires, but all of that is okay here.

The top level of players are major league players. It explains their success in the olympics and WBC. Other younger players would be considered top prospects in the minor leauges. LHP Ryu Hyun Jin stands out, and would probably be a major league superstar. He won the gold medal game against Cuba as a 22 year old. He's 24 now and is impressive to watch. He struck out 17 in a game earlier this year.

I guess the only way we will know is if the Milb creates a AAAA league and sends them to Korea.

GB: Moving to the ongoing event between the two Koreas. Do players discuss these sorts of things in the clubhouse? In the States, political events aren't really discussed by players too much. Try turning from MTV to CNN and you'll get food thrown at you. But this isn't just a political event. This involves, as you once told me, people of the same blood living across an arbitrary line. I'm sure there are some mixed emotions?

RS: I guess I have the mentality of a Korean. I really don't like to think about it. Americans are much more confrontational than Koreans are. Before Japan attacked Korea in the early 1900's, Korea had been a peaceful nation for over 500 years. It's tough to find a time in American history where there were 50 years without war. Actually, it may not exist. Nobody here wants to see war. I think everybody on the team is well aware of the situation, but they don't want to think about it. Today, there was an unexpected fireworks show after the game. My pants are going to need some extra bleach.

GB: In Korea I've read that all males are subject to conscription laws. Have many of your teammates served in the military? Are some of them approaching the time constraints before which they must serve?

RS: Most of the older players have served in the military. I have talked to a few of them about their service. Most went through basic training and had standard military jobs. My Korean is limited, but I have talked to one player about his time in the military and he was a driver of large trucks.

There are 2 standout players that still need to serve in the military. Our starting shortstop who has the defensive ability to be a starting shortstop on any major league team will have to serve after this season. One of out starting LHP's is 23. He throws 87-91 with a devestating slider. He would be a AAA prospect in a good organization or may be in the big leagues with a team that is developing talent at the ML level.

Nobody in Korea is exempt from serving in the military. If a player wins a gold medal at the Asian games or any medal at the Olympics, he can avoid full time military service. That person must go through basic training in the off-season and serves in something similar to the reserves in the US.

After somebody has done their 2 full years of military service, they are a member of the group that is similar to the reserves for the next 7 years. If war were to start, I think many of my teamates would be called into action.

GB: Has anything changed on the streets as this has unfolded? I assume people are still living their lives as usual? Has attendance suffered?

RS: The threat of fighting has existed in Korea for the past 57 years. I think people have learned to live with it. Nothing has changed since I have been here. I'm sure people are a bit more aware of the situation at hand, but they still show up to our games ready to go nuts. The fans in Korea think a baseball game is an event similar to American Football or Soccer in South America or Europe.

Thanks to Ryan for that. Hopefully cooler heads will prevail, and one of my best friends will arrive home safely in a couple of months.

If you'd like to learn more about Sadowski's experiences in the KBO be sure to check out his video blog on YouTube. He post it every single day under the name "Incugator." There's some good stuff there.

Links/Excerpts

2010-05-24T20:56:00.003-05:00

A couple things:

1. "Now an Outsider"

First is an excerpt from my latest "Suitcase Chronicles" entry, entitled "Now an Outsider:"

The game halts not for the retirement of greats, and definitely gives no pause to the passing of a minor league blip. Each generation it gobbles new bodies, this spinning black hole. My baseball life is mere debris, cast aside as waste, scattered in the same bin as a thousand others.

But I don't miss spinning within the black hole's grasp.

Read the rest here:

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/prospects/prospect-diary/2010/269951.html

2. "The Language of Baseball"

Next is an interview with David Laurila of Baseball Prospectus in his "Minor Issues" column, in which I talk about the language of baseball:

But aside from curse words, other words infiltrate as well. In fact, certain Spanish words become part of everyone's lingo, since Latinos are such a large part of the game. A change-up becomes a "cambio," a line drive a "linea," and a glove a "guante." And then, of course, their are the Spanish curse words, which everyone quickly mixes in--mierda, cono, mama...you get the point.

The rest:

http://www.baseballprospectus.com/article.php?articleid=10701

3. "Sports Genes"

And finally, a random article about genes and sports. It's a really long read from David Epstein in Sports Illustrated, but it was perhaps the best thing I read all week:

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1169440/index.htm

I'll write more soon!!

I might even write about baseball and Pearl Jam next. Not sure how those two topics will mix. Hmm...

A Pragmatic Posey Post (Hopefully)

2010-05-17T08:35:00.003-05:00

I don't like evaluating my former teammates. Being friends, my evaluations are usually short of objective, and I feel they have enough people judging them. Is my short-sighted opinion really needed?

Today I'm going to make an exception. With all the hoopla surrounding Buster Posey, and after Brian Sabean's ridiculous comments, I thought I'd follow my last post with a couple of statements. So I'll try to brush away my knowledge of Posey as an affable, well-liked guy, and strictly look at his baseball skills.

Statement #1

Buster Posey can play in the big leagues--right now.

Now, before you go too crazy, read on.

Buster Posey should not be playing in the big leagues--at least not right now.

On the surface, they're two completely contradictory statements, but they're more compatible than they seem. Let's take a look at the first.

We all know Posey's bat is glowing like Frodo's Sting Sword down in Triple-A. But since numbers such as .346 BA and .549 slugging don't matter (according to Sabean), we have to throw those numbers out.

As I look at Posey's swing, I'm confident it will play in the big leagues. I don't think fans should expect Fresno-type of numbers there, as yes, the pitching is better in the big leagues and the two parks are DRAMATICALLY different. But you can expect a lot of doubles in the gaps and a more than respectable batting average from him during the first couple of years.

As for his defense, his blocking is fine and his arm is very good. The release is quick, the strength is there, and the accuracy is solid. (Hopefully he avoids the Saltalamacchia yips.) He will do fine in the running game.

His glove and the "ability to call the game" are the two traditional knocks on him. Having thrown to him, I can say that his hands are great. He's only been catching a couple of years, and so the experience with catching pitches with movement still needs to come, but the hands are there. They will continue to develop.

I thought he called the game adequately. He's a smart guy, and there is a solid thought process to his game-calling. Of course, this improves with experience as well. Just don't expect him to be Bengie Molina upon arrival.

So, all in all, I have no problem saying Posey can play in the big leagues right now. He may not be an All-Star catcher yet, but he could more than hold his own.

Now, statement #2.

Just because he could hold his own doesn't mean that he should be in the big leagues right now. The main reason is because he's not really needed. Molina is hitting .330. Whiteside is hitting .324 as a backup. Both are very, very good defensive catchers.

"So he could play first base," some people say.

I don't like this idea at all. The production out of Posey's bat won't be as impressive as a first baseman. It will play much, much, much better as a catcher.

His catching skills need to continue to develop. Yes, I thought his hands were wonderful and his game-calling was adequate, but I'm not Tim Lincecum or Matt Cain. Far from it. It's a lot easier to catch my crappy fastball than some of the best fastballs in the game.

Some might say there's no better learning experience than actually doing it. You might as well just throw him in the big leagues and let him catch those guys. But again, there's no need for catching right now. The pragmatic move is to allow his glove to continue to develop in Triple-A, where, believe it or not, he's still catching some pretty darn good pitchers.

So, yes, he can do it. But no, he shouldn't be doing it.

Hopefully that makes sense. Go ahead and scream at me if you'd like.

Triple-A and Sabean

2010-05-10T12:58:00.004-05:00

I'm going to begin this by saying that I don't really know Brian Sabean very well. For this reason, I can't tell you whether or not he has an IQ above 75, or whether or not he has a thing for 80s rock and margaritas. I'd just be making that stuff up.

Sure I played in the minor leagues for 6 years in the Giants' organization, but I never had any contact with the general manager. Why would I? I was in the minor leagues. I was useless.

Well, apparently all of the pitchers in the minor leagues are useless, as Sabean recently commented that pitching in Triple A isn't very good, and neither is baseball in general in Triple A. He did this while answering questions about the performance of Buster Posey.

"Triple-A baseball isn't very good," Sabean told Andrew Baggarly of the San Jose Mercury News recently.

"I'm going to tell you that right now," he continued. "Especially from a pitching standpoint. Anybody who can pitch is in the big leagues."

Hmm. I guess Tim Lincecum was never in Triple-A. I guess if he was ever there, he must have been awful. He clearly didn't know how to pitch, because he wasn't in the big leagues.

And what about this Strasburg character that everybody keeps talking about? He obviously is no good. He's not in the big leagues, he must not be able to pitch.

If Sabean had said that Triple A pitching, as a whole, on average, is not as good as big league pitching, I would have no problem with that. That's why it's Triple-A baseball and not the big leagues. If he'd said that offensive numbers are inflated in the PCL since it is a hitter-friendly league--especially in the division that Fresno plays--I would have no problem with that. That's clearly true.

But instead Sabean decided to say that Triple-A baseball is just not good period, and especially the pitchers. He managed to not only belittle the performance of Posey, but to belittle the performance of all his minor league pitchers and catchers. He did this all in a couple of sentences. It's not easy to make that many people feel like crap in so short of a time span, but Sabean managed to do it. That takes real talent.

I sort of remember not long ago having a conversation with a couple of my buddies. Some of us had been in the big leagues; some of us hadn't (I clearly was in the ranks of those who hadn't). We were talking about the difference between Triple-A and the big leagues. It was the opinion of those who had played in the majors that the difference is magnified. Sure, there's a difference, but it's not a huge difference.

Here's the thing. If you're pitching in the big leagues, you're probably among the top 400 pitchers in the world. That's pretty frickin' good. If you're pitching in Triple-A, you're probably among the top 1000 pitchers in the world. There are probably some better guys in Japan, and maybe in Korea. A few more might exist in Cuba. And then there are almost all of the MLB pitchers above you.

I'd say being one of the top 1000 in the world is still pretty good. In fact, if you took any of those top 1000 and put them in the big leagues, they might even hold their own for awhile.

Sabean could've said a number of things in defending his decision to keep Buster Posey in the minor leagues. He could've said Posey needed more time to hone his glove work. He could've said that he was happy with how both of his big league catchers were playing, as both are hitting well. Both of these things would've been believable, and they would've been benign statements.

Instead he decided to trash every minor league player in the system. And I take exception to that. Many are friends and former teammates. Some are darn good pitchers. Some might have big league careers ahead of them.

With so much of the Giants' pitching staff being self-grown--Cain, Sanchez, Lincecum, Wilson, and Romo among them--you'd think Sabean would know that sometimes there's some pretty good pitching down there. But I guess not.

Again, I don't know the guy at all, so I can't vouch for his mental stability, and I can't tell you whether or not he has a proclivity for listening to Michael Buble. But I can tell you that this was not a smart statement.

A Friday Quickie: Receta de Pollo

2010-05-07T15:07:00.003-05:00

So I shared this on Twitter a few days ago, but I thought I'd share it again on here.

Some of my favorite moments from minor league baseball are the result of going over to one of my teammate's apartments after a day game and hanging out. Sometimes I'd hang out with my Dominican buddies. Often they'd cook for me. I hoped it would make me throw harder, as they said arroz con pollo was the key to velo. Obviously it never worked, and here I am today preparing for law school.

Anyways, here's an easy recipe for grilled chicken from Osiris Matos:

Easy Grilled Chicken the Dominican Way (Or Coño Chicken, as one of my teammates liked to call it):

Ingredients:

Chicken Breasts
Red Wine Vinegar
Adobo Seasoning with Pepper
Oregano

Place Chicken Breasts in any container known to contain things. Pour a thin layer of red wine vinegar on them (not too much). Sprinkle both sides with Adobo and Oregano (both usually used generously). Cover and marinate for a couple of hours. Grill and enjoy!

If you really want to feel like you're in Santo Domingo, try Matos' Platanos Fritos as well. They're as easy as catching a box turtle without a box.

If using green Platanos, just peel them while some oil is heating in a pan on medium-high heat. Cut the plantains in quarter inch slices. Place in oil. Fry on each side for 1.37 minutes (exactly). Remove from heat and use any blunt object to smash them (hopefully clean). Once flattened, place them back in the oil for another minute or two on each side, or until slightly golden brown. Remove and sprinkle with a little salt (or a lot if you feel like having a heart attack and don't like the actual taste of food).

I was told with yellow Platanos it's not necessary to use blunt objects, as they're soft enough you don't need to flatten them. They're also sweeter. I think smashing things is fun though. Very cathartic.

Anyways, wash it down with a little cocktail made with Brugal, and you'll be speaking Spanish in no time, even if your velocity doesn't improve.

Non-profit for Minor Leaguers

2010-04-30T11:23:00.003-05:00

Most readers of this blog know by now that minor leaguers earn about as much as a 19th century seaman. In fact, as I noted in a previous entry on fictional character Mickey Cobb, the majority of players earn a wage that places them below the established poverty guidelines.

The situation is particularly cumbersome for families, on whom the minor league lifestyle grinds like a bone saw on a femur. Seeing this, and living this herself, one wife of a minor leaguer has formed a non-profit to assist struggling ballplayers.

I first learned of Financial Aid Serving Families in Minors a few months ago through a link someone sent me. The original article is informative--and well worth a read--but I also wanted to contact the founder of the organization, Laurel Sharpe for a little Q&A. Her responses are below.

1) FASFIM is a tax exempt non-profit. How hard is it to gain 501(c)(3) status, and what exactly does that mean?

I can only speak for FASFIM when you ask about the difficulty of gaining 501(c)(3) status. It was extremely challenging. The IRS did not understand why a professional athlete would need financial assistance and the verbage when applying for non-profit is very specific. I had found a lawyer from STL, who had a vested interest in sports, and was familiar with the IRS, to help evolve my language into what they are looking for. The reason for establishing the federal poverty line as a guide (in-season), was because those are numbers are governmentally and a relative guideline to how they operate. It was actually kind of shocking, after doing some research, that MOST minor league players make under that guideline.

501(c)(3) status means we are tax exempt, both in making purchases, paying taxes and those who choose to donate, do not pay taxes on the amount they choose to give. I could not have achieved this success for FASFIM without the help of NOLO business books; they guided me each step of the way.

2) I think people have difficulties empathizing with minor leaguers. Even though salaries may be low, they still see players as being in the privileged position of playing baseball for a living. Or they see the minors as the place where a person has to pay their dues. How do you overcome this challenge?

The mission of FASFIM is not to promote the difficulties of the minors, but rather to supplement and strengthen the family unit for a man pursuing his dream. As with any aspiration and career goal, we all start in the 'trenches', with hopes, by the grace of God, that our hard work pays off. Yes, it is more evidently challenging for a player who is somewhat romanticized by media and movies to bring to light the real truths of the challenges of playing minor league baseball, but it is a common theme in most 1st jobs. As stated before, FASFIM was not established to make it seem that playing MiLB is any harder than a 9-5 working mans job. FASFIM was established by a wife who lived and saw the need for more support for the FAMILY, and a man who is also trying to support a wife and child(ren). It is to promote family wholeness in a society that is losing sight of these values, in a sense, it is keeping an ancient dream alive!

3) I have a number of teammates in difficult positions, how do they apply for help? I didn't see a form on the website.

FASFIM began in a recession and is surviving the recession; funds and donations are low. I must admit it to a fault, I have tried to implement small little fundraisers here and there, but the money that has been raised, in the boards opinion, should be used as seed money to grow the organization and build our capacity, in order to better raise funds successfully and provide for families in the future. That being said, we have not officially awarded any money. FASFIM was established as a long term goal, something that 20 years down the road, we can be proud to have established and amazed by those it has helped. It is hard in today's world to not get hung up on the immediate gratification (quick money). We trust, with time and the grace of God, that FASFIM will reach it's full potential. So for those wanting to apply, I would encourage them to stay abreast of our newest developments and fundraising efforts, via the website and Facebook, until we have reached capacity to financially aid their family.

4) What are the federal poverty guidelines, and are most people surprised that ballplayers fall below the levels set?

The federal poverty guidelines are listed annually on http://aspe.hhs.gov/poverty/09poverty.shtml (the government will release 2010 guidelines in May. FYI, in addition to the FPG for in-season play, the players must also qualify by meeting their off season's State's median income level. It is a consideration that takes all 12 months earnings into account.

Thanks to Laurel not only for answering my questions, but, more importantly, for trying to make a difference. Whereas inaction sometimes becomes the norm in this world, she has taken steps to help others. I applaud her for this.

If you'd like more information on FASFIM, including ways to donate, please go to their website at http://www.fasfim.org/Site/Home_.html And feel free to pass the link around!

Review of "Sugar" (Finally)

2010-04-23T07:07:00.004-05:00

I had a teacher in high school that used to always respond to the cut-ups in class by asking them what the first rule of comedy was. They knew his ploy well, as he did it daily, but yet he forced them to play his game. When they attempted to say "timing," he cut them off mid-reply. He interrupted them every time. He loved it.

The first rule of comedy may indeed be timing, but it's also the first rule of movie reviews. Therefore, I know this review of "Sugar" is about as well-timed as Israel's announcement of new settlements in East Jerusalem a month ago. So why write about it?

The movie, recommended to me by dozens over the past year, is a wonderful glimpse into the world of the Dominican baseball immigrant. This is a large part of the minor league saga, and its intricacies have too often been ignored. I should've watched the movie--and written about it--long ago. Better late then never.

Sugar, the name of the main character, is a teenager from the Dominican who gains the opportunity to play in the States for the first time. Not only his family but his entire neighborhood brims with pride for him.

This is one of the interesting aspects of the movie. For many Latino peloteros, simply making it to the U.S. is a huge achievement. This country is seen as a type of dream world to them. New cars, fancy malls, huge houses, and gigantic stadiums pervade their thoughts.

Many ballplayers have never travelled outside of the Dominican before their arrival here. Some have hardly removed themselves from their own neighborhoods. The States might as well be on another planet for them. Being given a lump sum of money and told that you are getting on a plane and arriving to this fancy dream world, with your whole neighborhood bursting with pride, must be an amazing feeling.

Sugar leaves the Dominican and arrives to the U.S. early in the movie (probably a little too quickly to be realistic). We see him and his other fellow new-to-the-States friends in a hotel room. They open up the little hotel refrigerator and find beer in it. They all agree that they have indeed reached the big time, and immediately start drinking the beer and watching hotel porn on the TV. A minor league veteran comes in and has to educate them, telling them they have to pay for all of this.

The minor league veteran is a crucial piece of this story. He's played in the States presumably for a couple of years and knows the long road ahead for these young men. He also knows their innocent excitement.

One of my best Latino friends, Osiris Matos, told me a story about his first day in Arizona. (An important part of this story involves Matos' first name, which is phonetically pronounced O-Serious.) The Giants' minor league hotel is a crappy old Days Inn, but it lies directly beside the Fashion Square Mall in Scottsdale, which is one of the nicest malls I've ever been in. One of the favorite pastimes of minor leaguers is to go to the mall, grab a bite to eat, and then sit for hours beside the main escalators in the building. It offers a great view of all the beautiful women shopping.

As soon as Osiris arrived, he and his newfound friends went to the mall to do just this. They got some Chinese food from Panda Express, and then began yelling at girls as they came off the escalator. Most ignored them. Being good hunting dogs though, they persevered. Finally--Success!--girls came their way.

One of the players knew just a bit more English than the others. He tried talking to the girls, and cut straight to the most important information:

"We baseball players."

Apparently somehow this little incomplete, grammatically atrocious sentence impressed our young ladies. They reacted as so:

"Are you serious!!!"

At this time, young Osiris Matos, stood up:

"Yes! You know me!!!"

Matos, thinking they said his name when they asked "are you serious" because it sounded like his name, thought that he was a big enough prospect that these random girls already knew who he was. Indeed, he thought he had arrived.

Every Dominican no doubt has a similar feeling upon arrival to the States. They feel on top of the world. It is usually short-lived. In our movie, Sugar quickly finds out how far he has to go. There are more talented players than he's ever seen in spring training camp.

Out of camp, Sugar is assigned to a small Midwestern town. This assignment is one of the real inaccuracies of the movie. The movie accelerates Sugar's career WAY too quickly. I can't think of a single Dominican I ever knew who went from being signed, then to spring training, then to an assignment to a full-season team within a month. Almost always, the newly signed players spend some time in the Dominican Summer League. If they do come to the U.S. immediately, the will spend at least a summer, maybe two or even three, at the spring training complex for extended spring training. It allows them time to assimilate to the culture, learn a little English, and learn a little more baseball. All of this comes in a friendlier environment devoid of many fans. It's also full of more Latinos. For the purposes of the film though, all of this was skipped.

Sugar arrives to the small town and shacks up with a host family. Their old country house is surrounded by corn fields, which contrast greatly with earlier scenes from the Dominican. He looks out his window with heartache. He's never comfortable in this house.

If awards were given out to the nicest people in the world, most host families would be nominated. But indeed, some players never really feel comfortable there. They don't like opening the refrigerator whenever they like. They don't always like sitting down at the dinner table with them. They don't like talking with them after every game.

This is not a general rule for all players, but it is true for some. Some people keep to themselves more and don't easily adjust to living in new situations. In living with a host family, they feel they have invaded another's life. They feel they must conform to this life, and therefore can't live their own normalcy. This is true even of some American players, and it must be even more true of Latinos.

This plays out in the movie beautifully with Sugar. The scenes at the dinner table are priceless. His host family attempts to speak Spanish to him, and it sounds ridiculous. It makes Sugar feel stupid, as it seems they are talking down to him. He'd no doubt rather they speak slowly in English.

Sugar's interactions with his teammates are also wonderful. He sort of forms a bond with one of his American infielders, understanding some of what he says, but not all of it. He doesn't quite feel right throughout, as is evidenced by his attempt to hang out with the guys at a bowling alley. (I've actually done this with a couple of Latinos. Matos, Kelvin Pichardo, and others used to occasionally join a group of American players for Sunday night bowling. They didn't feel comfortable in the place--surrounded by whites and playing a strange game--but with a little encouragement from myself and a few other guys (and after a few drinks), they began throwing gutterballs with the best of us.) Sugar enters the bowling alley and sees his teammates laughing and carousing from a distance. Yet he can't bring himself to join them. He leaves before even talking to them.

In showing human interactions such as these, the movie excells. The downfall comes from the path of his career. Sugar has a seemingly minor injury and his team has little patience with him. Within a short time he leaves baseball altogether. His entire career last for a couple of months.

Yes, the window of opportunity is short in this game, but this is ridiculous. The kid gave it a mere couple of months. He was earning a paycheck and sending money back to his impoverished family in the Dominican. Despite his troubles, I can't fathom him leaving the game in such a manner.

Sugar then goes to New York and attempts to find work. His mother doesn't understand his actions. Eventually he finds other Latinos and gains a sense of home. He even finds other former baseball players and joins a pickup game.

In all, the movie is an important addition to the baseball genre. Both an immigrant's tale and a baseball tale, the beautifully done human interactions more than make up for the gross inaccuracies in the timeline of his career. If you haven't seen it, it's a must-see movie for all baseball fans.

Primavera and some links

2010-04-11T12:57:00.002-05:00

A few lyrics from one of my favorite Santana songs, "Primavera" (Spring), which I've been listening to a lot lately:

Como la semilla

Lleva nueva vida

Hay en esta primavera una nueva era

En el aire de este universo

Hoy se respira libertad

En primavera ya

La tierra negra se vuelve verde

Y las montanas y el desierto

Un bello jardin

Como la semilla

Lleva nueva vida

Hay en esta primavera una nueva era

Beautiful in Spanish. It's worth the translation.

And here are a few links:

David Laurila with Baseball Prospectus has a great ongoing series called "Minor Issues." I had the wonderful opportunity to answer a couple of questions for him:

http://bbp.cx/article.php?type=2&articleid=10191

And here's a recent fun one about from Laurila about Derrick Loop entering his team's circle of trust:

http://www.baseballprospectus.com/article.php?articleid=10469

From recent to old, here's something from Lisa Winston, written years back, that was passed along to me:

http://gotmilb.mlblogs.com/archives/2008/12/offseason_greetings.html

Lastly, not sure what to think about USA Today reporting a significant decrease in MLB opening day salaries and MLBPA responding with their own calculations showing a slight increase. Don't really think that accomplished anything. What's more interesting is that MLBPA seems to be gearing up for a collusion case. In my opinion, the owners definitely colluded this offseason, using the economy as an excuse to collectively make less attractive offers to free agents. But proving it is another thing. Here are some links:

http://content.usatoday.com/communities/dailypitch/post/2010/04/sliding-mlb-average-salary-down-17-from-2009/1?csp=34sports&utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+UsatodaycomSports-TopStories+(Sports+-+Top+Stories)

http://mlb.fanhouse.com/2010/04/07/baseball-players-union-threatens-collusion-suit/

Enjoy the spring! It's beautiful in St. Louis!

Food Stamps and Baseball: the tale of imaginary friend Mickey Cobb

2010-04-02T11:02:00.001-05:00

As I stated in my previous post, the Baseball America article on minor league salaries was finally published. Yes, I know, it had become some mythical balloon floating around in the troposphere by now. Unlike the balloon boy fiasco, hopefully it contained more than just hot air.

I bored you with some stats in my previous post. Basically salaries have been grounded like a dead hawk the past 35 years, while inflation has been building faster than 1990s suburbia. Meanwhile, baseball profits are at an all time high, and MLB salaries have risen by 7000%.

But enough of that. Today we're going to tell a little bedtime story. It's a little fictional account about food stamps and poverty, enlisting the help of an imaginary friend. (Because it's better to embarrass an imaginary friend than a real friend.)

My imaginary friend is a minor league baseball player (shocker). Since my friend needs a name, we'll call him Mickey Cobb. Mickey hails from a land as open and free as a Galilean moon: Oklahoma. The name of his town? Cottonmouth. Always a natural athlete, Mickey was popular in high school but never won any contests such as Prom King. In fact, he elected to not even go to prom--he hates the choking confines of a tux. (Not to mention the terrible feeling of posing for pictures.) Instead, he sat around a bonfire with a couple of his baseball buddies, watching Bill E. Bobb crush empty cans of Keystone off his forehead. Later, others joined the circle of post-prom reminiscing, including the Prom Queen, who quickly huddled next to Mickey close to the fire (as far away from Bill E. as possible).

Mickey attended a local junior college where he developed as a player and continued to date Prom Queen. He then attended Some Southern University in Western Oklahoma--a well-known baseball powerhouse. His junior year, Mick had high hopes of getting drafted, but the scrimmage prior to the start of the season a hamstring was strained, which hampered (couldn't help myself) him the entire season. Both his power numbers and his ability to play the outfield diminished. Draft day passed without his name being called.

With the coming of his senior year, Mickey worked harder than ever. He knew it was his last chance to make his dream a reality. The hard work paid off. Mickey became an All-Conference player, and in early June the moment finally came. He heard his name called in the 12th round of the draft.

As a senior signee, Mickey had no leverage. He quickly took the first offer given him by the BlueBuzzards, and signed a uniform contract with a $5,000 signing bonus. He immediately took the bulk of the bonus to the local Cottonmouth jewelry store, where he bought a diamond solitaire engagement ring for Prom Queen. All of Cottonmouth, Oklahoma rejoiced.

Mickey has now played a year and a half in professional baseball. He enters his second spring training after making the Sally League All-Star team the previous year, posting a .297 average with 16 homeruns. Though he's not considered a top prospect yet, the eyes and spitcups of the organization are upon him. He hopes with another All-Star caliber season he will move into the upper ranks of the system.

Last season Mickey made just over $6000 for the year. He went to instructional leagues for all of October and also attended a two week workout camp in December. Additionally, he was invited to a mini-camp beginning two weeks prior to spring training in the middle of February. He earned no money for his time spent at instructional leagues or at spring training. All of these things--combined with a tough local economy--made it impossible for him to find work during the couple of months spent in Cottonmouth. His baseball salary was his only source of income.

Prom Queen worked odd jobs--20 hours a week at a golf course during one summer month, part-time at a restaurant 2 winter months--but she too found it hard to find work while living as a gypsy. In all, she earned $3,000 herself. Combined they earned $9000 last season.

Their bank account is as empty as an Easter tomb. Even though they're now married, they again lived with their parents in the offseason. This season, they're living with three other players, all crammed into a two-bedroom apartment, yet they still pay almost $400 per month for rent.

More and more, Mick and Prom Queen are finding it difficult to pay for groceries. Finally they make a tough decision. They inquire to see if they are eligible for food stamps.

They open up Mick's old laptop--a Christmas present from his freshman year in college that is as slow as a sailboat on a windless day. After a few minutes, the power of Google directs them to a website that gives an instant estimate. Prom Queen types some information into the calculator. FNS SNAP eligibility screening proclaims they are eligible for between $357 and $367 per month in food stamps.

They also look into other benefits. They find that they are well below the established poverty guidelines which qualify them for a myriad of things. In fact, they are more than $5000 below the threshold of $14,700 set by the government for a family of two.

Mick and Prom Queen quietly go about the process of applying for these benefits. They are embarrassed about their situation, but they don't know what else to do. Their parents have no money to help them. Prom Queen can't find work. And Mick's meager salary is set by his original contract. They've done their best to avoid credit card use. They're pinching pennies as much as possible--Prom Queen hasn't bought a new shirt in months--yet they need help. Not even Bill E. Bobb's awesome powers can rescue them.

Mickey tries to put these things out of his mind. He goes to the park each day, hoping beyond hope that he will soon be promoted. He knows he has talent, but so do many others. The chances of reaching the big leagues are slim, but he must continue to believe.

Each day he signs a few autographs before entering the clubhouse. Playing for his new team in the Midwest League, seven or eight thousand people watch him play each night. These people cheer him, and many already know his name. Being an All-Star the previous year, he's one of the centerpieces of his new team's marketing strategy. He's on the cover of the program and will routinely make visits to schools. He talks to the local press and makes radio appearances. And Mick never turns down the opportunity to say hi to a kid.

The minor league team will directly benefit from these things, but they will pay no part of his salary. They won't even help with housing. Instead, the major league team will pay his salary, and they have no incentive to increase it. After all, with only a small percentage of minor leaguers contributing at the big league level, it's in their best interest to pay minor leaguers as little as possible. Constantly in a battle with the MLBPA--which does not represent minor leaguers--they try to use almost all their resources on the big league budget.

While Mickey's at the field each day, Prom Queen goes to the grocery store. As she approaches the register, she takes the food stamps out of her purse, hoping that nobody will recognize her as a ballplayer's wife. Having paid for the food, she grabs her bags and quickly walks out with her head cast slightly towards the ground. More than ever, she misses the simplicity of her Cottonmouth youth with every step that she takes.

More on "Playing for Peanuts"

2010-03-31T11:34:00.003-05:00

Okay, so after months of waiting, Baseball America finally printed my article on minor league salaries. I was beginning to wonder if it fell through some fiberoptic blackhole between St. Louis and Charlotte. Alas, it was finally found (probably buried under a stack of Ryan Sadowski rookie cards).

I wanted to give everyone a brief synopsis of the article. More importantly, I also want to provide a few numbers that were sent to the trashbin (with the Garrett Broshuis rookie cards). Here goes:

While salaries within Major League Baseball have escalated exponentially since the 1975 Seitz Decision established the modern free agency system, salaries of minor leaguers have barely budged. Though data on past minor league salaries is hard to obtain, estimates were made by talking to former players. In 1975, salaries for minor leaguers were the following:

· Short season A: $500
· Class A: $750
· Class AA: $1000
· Class AAA: $1250

Salaries today stand at $1100 in Short-Season A, $1150 in Class A, $1500 in Class AA, and $2150 in Class AAA; a total average increase of 74%. This pales in comparison to the almost 7000% increase in average MLB salaries over the same time period ($44,676 in 1975 to over $3.2 million today) and 2400% increase in MLB minimum salaries ($16,000 to $400,000). Meanwhile inflation has increased by almost 400%.

This results in many ballplayers living an impoverished lifestyle despite playing in front of record minor league crowds. The fact that salaries are only paid during the five month season and not during spring training and instructional leagues exacerbates the problem. Most players make less than $7500 per year and in a tough economy have been unable to supplement their income through offseason work.

One former roommate elected not to eat breakfast or lunch in order to save money. He instead waited until he arrived to the field each day around 2 pm, where he then devoured two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Other quotes within the story provide further revelations:

“We had twelve players, two wives and a baby staying with us all at once,” said Barbara Rothstein, a former host mother for the Norwich Navigators, the then Double A affiliate of the New York Yankees. “We didn’t charge them a dime. One month we had a $5800 food bill and we tried collecting $20 from each, but some of them couldn’t even afford that.”

“My parents pay my phone bill, my car payment, and help us out with rent in the off-season,” said one Giants' minor leaguer. “I’m 25 years old, married, and am living off of them. I wouldn’t be able to play if they didn’t help me.”

There are many reasons for this situation. Minor leaguers are not represented by the MLBPA and have no union of their own. Additionally, the large pool of players willing to do anything just for a chance to play creates little pressure to increase salaries. This is evidenced by the supply of cheap labor playing in the independent leagues. Lastly, actual minor league affiliates pay no part of minor league salaries even though they profit directly from their play. Many minor league franchises are now worth in excess of $20 million. Though the idea is unpopular, it may be time to shift some of the cost of minor league salaries to the actual minor league affiliates.

Players often cram into a two-bedroom apartment during the season to save money. Almost all of them sleep on air mattresses. Some skip meals to save money. Baseball is taking advantage of young men with dreams, and this should change.

The Fallen

2010-03-25T22:12:00.003-05:00

To the average fan, spring training offers a simple glimpse of the future. A young prospect pitching in his first Cactus League game, striking out the side. A newly signed veteran hitting a homerun, meshing with his new teammates. There's unfulfilled promise in the spring. Everyone is full of hope at what the season might entail.

From the outside looking in, the atmosphere seems light. After all, these games are meaningless. Spring is simply a preparation phase. For many minor leaguers--especially the vets--this couldn't be farther from the truth. It's as stressful as it gets.

The end of spring is the time rosters are set. Each day players wander into the clubhouse with their heads down, looking towards a single sheet of paper to learn their fate. The paper consumes them until the very end. Sometimes, names disappear entirely from the paper.

A couple of my best friends saw their names erased today. With the stroke of a pen, Paul Oseguera and David Maroul were released. Oseguera was once rated the top 16 year old in the country. He was even in Sports Illustrated. Almost ten years and several surgeries later, he's looking for a new team.

Oseguera is a great friend and great person. He's one of the guys that I truly miss hanging out with. He'll continue to attempt to play. He knows the talent is still in there somewhere, even if the surgeries have taken much of it away. He has a newborn to provide for and a beautiful wife. Hopefully he soon finds a job within baseball that will earn him at least a little bit of a salary.

Maroul has a similar story. He was once the College World Series' Most Outstanding Player while playing for Texas. A golden glove and a plus arm, combined with power potential, made for an intriguing combination. And he's as nice a guy as you will find.

Clubbies, coaches, and teammates alike will vouch for these guys. Now they're in baseball limbo, wondering if they should continue pursuing a dream or look for another line of work. In their minds, they have more to offer. It's not an easy decision to make.

I wish them and everyone else released all the best of luck. Hopefully they will find happier days, whether they be on or off the diamond.

And for the sake of the players, let the cauldron that is spring soon come to an end.

A Thank You Blanket

2010-03-09T15:16:00.001-06:00

I've spent a few weeks thinking of a clever way of announcing my retirement. With tweeting, facebooking, and Stephen Colbert surrounding me, the pressure of cleverness is as suffocating as heat in the Mojave.

But as so often happens in my life, my mind fails me and cleverness alludes me. Then again, when making a retirement announcement at the ripe age of 28, maybe cleverness isn't really necessary. Maybe instead I should resort to a proven tactic: a thank you.

It seems odd to write a thank you while admitting failure, but that is what I am doing. I failed to reach my goal, and so in essence I am thanking the very people who not only allowed but assisted my failings. Yet I’m of the belief that there is still beauty in coming up just short, even if the beauty is of a different hue than the ultimate gratification of success. The process is the same even if the end result greatly differs. I’ve loved every minute of this process, even the lowest of lows.

For six years, I’ve been fortunate enough to play baseball at the professional level. For much longer, baseball has been a large part of who I am as a person. It has delivered so many amazing moments in my young life, and I've never been alone during these moments. It’s the people that I will remember most.

A person retains a core of stable traits, but their persona is somewhat dynamic. Everyday encounters play no small part in this fluctuation, with a few magical moments serving as punctuation. So many of these moments took place through baseball. Some seemed trivial at the time of occurrence, yet they produced unknown significance in my career and ultimately my life. Whether it was a word of encouragement from a person standing at the rail of the stands before a game or a night with a teammate after a tough loss, I am forever indebted to every person I have ever met.

I'll never be able to thank everyone, but I'll do my best to weave a thank you blanket thick enough to cover many. Hopefully it will warm the people who provided me warmth on so many cool days throughout my young life.

Giant Thank Yous

I must begin with a thank you to the San Francisco Giants organization. You took a chance on a pitchable righty from the Midwest, thereby initiating this great failure. You invested time and money in my development, and both of us wish that I were currently in Scottsdale, preparing for a big-league season with my former teammates. I apologize for my shortcomings, but always know I took my duties as a baseball player seriously. I worked diligently. I prepared both my mind and body. I always competed. I dedicated my heart to the game, even if I fell short of giving it my soul.

So many coaches within the organization helped me. My pitching coaches--Bert Bradley, Trevor Wilson, Bob Stanley, Jerry Cram, Mike Caldwell, Ross Grimsley, Brian Cooper--as well as my managers--Joe Strain, Lenn Sakata, Shane Turner, Dave Machemer, Bien Figueroa, Andy Skeels, and Steve Decker—deserve recognition, as do so many others. The athletic trainers and clubbies, the interns and front office personnel, the maintenance workers and human resources personnel all played a large role in my baseball life.

Also within the Giants organization, I must thank my teammates. You were my family away from my family. Zany moments took place with you (yes, some inappropriate for this blog), and I know I’ll never be able to duplicate the feeling of the teammate relationship.

I had a former athlete tell me that one thing he missed in his post-competition life was not being able to shower with the guys. Well, I don’t know if I’ll completely miss the showers, but I’ll definitely miss everything else. Thanks to all of you.

Hosties

If anyone assisted me more in my failings than my coaches and teammates, it was my host families. Both before and during professional baseball, these amazing people took me into their homes. They gave me food and a bed but above all encouragement.

A couple of families had young children while I stayed with them years ago. I haven’t seen them since, and I’m sure they are now well on their way to becoming beautiful adults. They probably barely even remember me, but I always hoped that I could make a quick fortune in this game. If I did, I told myself I’d pay for every cent of the college tuition for these children. This is yet one more regret that I have. I simply cannot, and will not, be able to do this.

It’s not an easy thing to invite a random person to live with you, a sort of ballplayer roulette. Yet host families did this very thing, and greatly helped me. On the salaries that ballplayers receive, it would be tough to survive without you. I can never fully return the favor, but if you are ever pass through St. Louis or any other area where I’m living, my home is open.

Fan Appreciation Day

A thank you must also go out to all the fans that I met. Players at times see fans as outsiders, unconsciously viewing them not as equals but as Roman rulers might view the masses. They appease them when necessary, but contain them behind barriers. Encounters are limited.

I never accepted that view. No person should be deemed any better or worse based on their occupation or their status in this world. Just because I played a game that entertained others did not make me important. So I did my best to get to know as many fans as possible on a personal level. Everyone has a story, and I tried to take a few moments to hear it.

Many of you took me to lunches and dinners. Some of you even brought me to your homes. All of you encouraged me during my failings and cheered me during my successes.

A few still email or write to me. Hearing tidbits from your lives—Johnny’s first little league game, Matt in the choir, or Judy in the school play—always brings joy, and I hope you will continue to write. If any of you have ever wanted to write but never found the time to do so, I welcome hearing from you.

From my first game, I was always surprised when someone actually wanted my autograph. I did my best to sign for every kid and for the occasional adult. If I ever appeared less than accommodating, I apologize. I never intended to behave in such a manner, but was instead probably preparing for a start or consumed by the work that leads up to the next start.

Whether you are in Oregon or Arizona, Connecticut or California, or any other state in which our paths might have crossed, I sincerely thank you. I’ll miss our encounters.

The Written and Spoken Word

Journalists also helped me along the way. Stan McNeal of The Sporting News saw something in my crappy early writing that led him to give me some website space. Years later, Baseball America took me in. Other beat journalists, such as Joe Perez, and every radio announcer, deserve my sincere gratitude. Thanks for everything.

Growing Up

Outside of the professional game, I must thank all of my coaches throughout my life. My college coaches at the University of Missouri played an immeasurable role in my development as a player and a person. Without them, I would have never had the opportunity to advance in this game.

I played American Legion ball in two different towns, first in Poplar Bluff, Missouri and finally in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. I doubt many readers of this blog have ever heard the names of these towns, but I can assure you they are inhabited by honest and hard-working people. The same can be said for my small hometown of Advance, Missouri.

The town will never have my name upon the water tower. My childhood residence will never be marked but will instead pass from one hand to the next, providing shelter for other families with other dreaming youths. The town will go on without me as it has for more than a hundred years, but please know that it has left an indelible stamp upon me. I never go anywhere without it. The work ethic and compassion that I learned in this town forged the foundation of my life.

My parents still live outside of this town. If one drives ten miles towards the hills, you’ll eventually cross a bridge before a line of bluffs begin. Upon the top of these hills, you’ll find a ranch-style home set behind a line of trees. Here you might find my mother working in the garden or taking the dog for a walk in the woods. My dad might be tinkering in his shop or upon his small tractor, preparing food plots for his beloved deer and turkeys. If it’s a Saturday evening, you might find them on the back porch with a glass of iced tea, watching their grandchildren play. If one is lucky enough to meet these people on such a day, you would be greeted with the biggest of smiles and the warmest of hearts. These amazing people brought me into this world and gave me all the love that a small boy could ever imagine. I am truly blessed to have such parents.

These parents insisted that my three sisters be at every game that I played. No matter the day of the week—in Poplar Bluff, Cape Girardeau, or any other town in Southeast Missouri—they could be found at a baseball field throughout many summers. I hope they know their presence was appreciated, even if I didn’t always express it. I only regret the game caused me to miss so many moments in their own lives. High school and college graduations, last volleyball games and first dates—I missed so many significant moments. I apologize for my shortcomings. Though these moments have now passed and I can never atone for my absence, I hope to do better in the future.

Lastly, this cannot end without a thank you to my wife. I have been absent for so much of the three years of our marriage, but her love was with me always. It’s not easy to be with a failing athlete. At times the game delivered me elation inexpressible, but as my career furthered, frustration bordering on acute depression more often dominated my moods. You supported me through both the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. You always knew when to talk and when to say nothing at all. I look forward to spending the rest of our lives together, wherever that might be.

With that I must leave all of you with a memory of a moment, and a sincere thank you for allowing a dream to almost be.

Garrett Broshuis

Quote of the week

2010-02-27T09:48:00.003-06:00

I couldn't help but laugh when I read this on twincities.com:

Although many of his Twins spring training teammates drive luxury vehicles to Hammond Stadium, Loek Van Mil, a 7-foot-1, 230-pound right-handed fastballer, rides a bicycle nearly five miles each way to and from the ballpark.

"I don't have a license to drive a car," said Van Mil, 25, who is from Utrecht, Holland. "And I don't care for cars. If I ever get a car, it will be a rundown one."

Nothing like a little extra cardio after a long day at spring training.

The story reminded me of a rumor about another tall pitcher. Apparently Randy Johnson occasionally chose his bicycle as his preferred mode of transportation in San Francisco last season. The 6-foot-10 future Hall of Famer could at times be spotted strolling up to the gates of AT&T Park, helmet firmly strapped to his head.

Unlike Van Mil, something tells me Randy actually owned a car or two, and I doubt they were of the rundown variety.

Here's to tall guys on bikes:

http://www.joe-ks.com/archives_jun2005/TallGuyBike.htm

HGH testing?

2010-02-24T11:38:00.002-06:00

I read an article recently talking about HGH testing. Apparently the plan is to use a blood test in the minor leagues. First, I think this is great news. Developing a test for HGH has been difficult, and in my opinion, a test is needed. But there's a problem.

They're not going to catch anyone.

Okay, so they might catch a couple of idiots, but minor leaguers aren't using HGH. Unlike steroids, it's very expensive and hard to obtain. You need a pile of cash and a crooked doctor. I'm not saying that zero minor leaguers are using HGH, but the numbers are very, very small. They simply lack the resources to obtain the substance.

I also hope that the test has been thoroughly developed. If it hasn't been adquately tested, then minor leaguers shouldn't simply be guinea pigs. Maybe our lives really are worth less than others.

I'm all for HGH testing, but I'm a little skeptical about this news. Hopefully the test is a good one, and hopefully testing will be expanded to include non minor leaguers. Until then, I'll contain my excitement.

College baseball replacing the minor leagues?

2010-02-09T11:14:00.004-06:00

I love college, and I love baseball. It's only natural that I love college baseball as well. But some within MLB want to help out the college game. Huh? (scratching head while thinking)

Here's an excerpt from a recent Buster Olney blog:

So there is sentiment within MLB right now about wanting to help the college game. It could do so, of course, by very publicly funding scholarships, in concert with the NCAA. To put the dollars in perspective, for the cost of one Stephen Strasburg signing bonus of $15.6 million, MLB could fund 390 full $40,000 scholarships at college baseball programs, creating a lure for coaches. In theory, MLB could fund one full ride at every Division I college in the country, which would be a pretty big deal. Or maybe MLB could pick a conference or group of teams in an area where baseball is more prevalent, such as Florida, Texas or California, and fund scholarships there.

I'm not sure how much a few extra scholarships would actually help out college baseball. I think the effect would be fairly marginal. The whole idea seems a little silly to me. But other proposals being kicked around might have a much larger effect on college baseball, and on minor league baseball.

A recent Biz of Baseball article brought up all kinds issues. Stating that player development cost around $600 million annually (around 6% of most teams' budgets), the article claims that changes are needed to reduce costs.

I'm all in favor of trimming fat. Yes, too many players are signed each year in the draft. Many of these players are released within a year of signing. Out of the 40 plus players signed by the Giants in my draft class, only 10 remained just a few years later. Teams approach amateur players the way a newly made millionaire might approach real estate. They buy, buy, buy with no intention of even keeping properties. They get rid of it as quick as they buy it.

Yes, perhaps a level of minor league baseball could be cut as well. Maybe low A could be merged with advanced A, or maybe the two short-season levels could be combined. I've talked this over with a few people, with mixed results. Some think it could work, some think that there is too great of a real difference between the various leagues to merge any of them.

Measures could be taken to curb signing bonuses at the top levels slightly. This would save a bit of money as well.

But others are proposing more drastic measures. Some believe that the entire model of player development should be scrapped. The theory goes that baseball should approach player development in a manner similar to that of the NFL or NBA. They should allow colleges to develop their players.

There's one obvious problem with that. Our public universities weren't built to merely develop athletes. Yes, they are at times used that way, but I'm not sure if this is right.

More importantly for baseball, it wouldn't work. Almost 30% of MLB players are Latino. Close to 50% of minor leaguers are Latino. How will teams develop these players without a minor league system?

These players are signed when they are 16. Many are shoved to baseball schools around the time they get out of diapers. Are we simply going to send all the Dominicans and Venezuelans to our public universities to develop them? Something tells me this wouldn't work.

Furthermore, we shouldn't expect every kid in America to attend college. Some athletes are so talented that they should be allowed to play professional baseball as soon as they graduate college. Other athletes simply struggle with school. They shouldn't be shoved into college if they instead have the opportunity to play professionally.

I remember discussing this with a college professor some time ago. In his mind, baseball had the right system. Colleges shouldn't be feeder systems for professional sports leagues.

So yes, some improvements need to be made within player development. Inefficiencies need to be identified and trimmed from the budget. But the entire system shouldn't be scrapped in favor of a college development system, and the money saved shouldn't just go into the pockets of owners. Improvements should be made within the system. Those players who are brought in should be paid slightly better. They should also be provided better meals and affordable housing.

Again, I love college, I love baseball, and I love college baseball. But using college baseball instead of the minor leagues to develop your players just seems like a bad idea.

Playermail and a link

2010-02-03T13:19:00.006-06:00

Playermail (different from blackmail)

I had a player email me not long ago about the cost of his insurance. He's a minor league free agent, so his insurance benefits expired. Here's what he said regarding purchasing COBRA:

"For me its $404.51 per month. If I had a family with a wife and kid for a total family of 3, its $1,375.40 per month. "

The player went on to say that there's no way he can afford it. He found little work in a tough economy this off-season. He made little money during the previous season, and was far from a bonus baby. If he doesn't sign with an affiliated team but instead plays independent ball, he'll simply go without insurance.

In fact, he didn't even get a gym membership this off-season. He had to save money.

Meeting the Straw man

On a completely different note, I met Darrly Strawberry recently. One of the heroes of my youth, it was a pretty cool experience. For some reason though, these experiences always seem to lack the expected luster. Here's what I wrote for Baseball America:

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/prospects/prospect-diary/2010/269459.html

Hope February is treating all of you well!!

Baseball America per diem post

2010-01-27T10:54:00.002-06:00

Hey everyone! I just wanted to post a link to my Baseball America post on the increase in minor league per diem. Here it is:

http://www.baseball america.com/ today/minors/ business- beat/2010/ 269438.html

I'll try to post something more substantial soon. This third part-time job that I took is really cutting into my writing time.

The things you think when you're in an MRI machine

2010-01-21T15:19:00.003-06:00

So I underwent my first MRI of my life this morning. Our trainer said that not many ballplayers my age could say that. I don't know if that's a compliment or not.

To make up for lost time, I decided to have not one but two MRIs done at the same time. Due to my own stupidity, I've been ignoring pain in both my back and hip for too long. It was time to get it checked out.

The MRI was much louder than I expected. Here were some thoughts that came to mind while I laid there for an hour and a half without moving:

1. We're being attacked by aliens.

2. I feel like I'm trapped in my mom's old, 25-year-old washing machine (it makes similar noises).

3. If a heavy metal guitarist developed schizophrenia and still decided to rehearse, this is what it would sound like.

4. I hope we don't have a fire. I'd never hear the alarm.

5. Maybe this contraption is like the big golden thing in the movie "Sphere." Whatever dreams I have will become real. Except instead of being haunted by "A Thousand Leagues Under the Sea," I'm haunted by "A Thousand Leagues Under the Big Leagues."

6. Hopefully I don't emerge from this thing acting like Lady Gaga.

7. Am I being turned into an Avatar? I better be allowed to fly on one of those weird dragon animals.

Just a few thoughts. I emerged unscathed and free from alien attack.

baby steps--a minor league per diem increase

2010-01-21T08:37:00.003-06:00

Yesterday the Wall Street Journal reported an increase in minor league per diem from $20 to $25. The link to the article is here:

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703837004575013172459160664.html

I'll have more on this in an upcoming Baseball America article. In the meantime, I'm getting an MRI done today (in an hour or two). Gotta get this back and hip checked out. Maybe I should stop working out with the 85 year old Cuban lady at the Community Center.

Chapping something

2010-01-12T09:38:00.003-06:00

In the conclusion of a long saga which involved a catfight between agents and a parade around scouts, Aroldis Chapman signed with the Reds recently. The Cuban defector sparked a bidding war that resulted in a six year, $30 million contract.

First, let's talk about Chapman's stuff. He reportedly throws 100 mph (smoke tinges the words with each keystroke). No problem there. He's also left-handed. That's always a plus. He's 21-years-young (give or take a few years). No problem there. He has control problems. Uh oh.

Chapman allowed 5.37 walks per nine innings in Cuba. Last I checked, that wasn't very good. Now, yes, we've all seen pitchers get better command as time goes on. A quick look at Randy Johnson's career reveals an atrocious walk rate early in his career, and then an exceptional walk rate at the end.

In fact, Randy Johnson's name has been thrown around a lot lately. He's been retired for only a few days, and already people are expecting some kid from Cuba to be "The Next Randy." Let's not forget, Randy Johnson's a certain first ballot Hall of Famer. He's one of the top 5 pitchers of all-time. And we're comparing an unproven 6'4" defector to him, simply because he's left-handed, throws hard, and has terrible command?

It's symptomatic of a general problem in the baseball world, and the world in general. When judging someone or something, we look for shortcuts. We say a person reminds us of another person because it instantly delivers information. But that person is an entirely different person. Chapman is his own being. He's not Randy Johnson and shouldn't be compared to him. It's not fair to Chapman or Johnson, and it doesn't deliver enough meaningful information.

Back to walk rates, Chapman may very well have a long and successful career. He certainly has the raw ability. But the problem with raw ability is that you don't know what the finished product will look like. Instead of going down, his walk rate may instead increase. Nobody really knows what will happen. The Reds just gave a lot of money to a guy who is a "maybe."

Since he was on the open market, the bidding war resulted in this contract. Some will say this is his fair market value. I think it's too much money, but the market says otherwise.

A few of my teammates emailed me saying this is a problem. Some foreign players such as Chapman are able to use this open-market system to their advantage while Americans, Canadians and Puerto Ricans are subject to a draft. A phenom such as Stephen Strasburg had no control over who picked him in the draft. Once taken, he could only negotiate with a single team. While he was paid handsomely, there was no bidding war. On the open market he would've received much more--perhaps more than Chapman.

MLB and the union need to decide what system they want. Do they want free market system, where anyone can negotiate with any player, and the player has the ability to choose? Such a system existed prior to 1965 when the draft was instituted. Or do they want a worldwide draft?

Selig has said he wants an international draft. So have several others. I'm generally not a fan of systems that limit a player's options, but I recognize the need for a draft, as without it, talent would be even more unequally spread than today. The rich would keep getting richer. But if such a draft is instituted, mobility must be ensured as well. The Rule 5 draft should be expanded, and changes should be made to it to allow more players to stick with new teams. The length of contracts should also be examined.

The current system certainly segregates against players from certain countries. This is unfair. All players should be subject to the same rules when dealing with MLB teams. There are obvious complications to this (look at the Japanese posting system.) since you're dealing with several countries, but the status quo simply isn't sufficient. A system is needed that ensures mobility, allows a player to gain close to market value, and also provides equal access to talent for large and small market clubs. The current system provides none of these things.

Legislative Dam: A Q&A about the Curt Flood Act of 1998

2010-01-08T14:28:00.006-06:00

Members of Congress have a lot going on. Between health care legislation, cap and trade bills, idiots trying to sneak bombs onto airplanes, and running for re-election, their plates are as full as the bellies of medieval kings. Yet somehow they repeatedly make room for baseball.

We all remember the Congressional hearing of 2005 that infamously featured McGwire, Palmeiro, Sosa, and Schilling. But there have been many other moments as well, and today I want to talk about a lesser known act of Congress, the Curt Flood Act of 1998.

The act contains language that directly affects minor leaguers' abilities to challenge baseball's labor structure. I reference it in the upcoming Baseball America feature on the history of minor league salaries (scheduled for the season preview issue), so I thought it would be good to learn more about it. For this reason, I turned to an expert.

Ed Edmonds, the Associate Dean for Library and Information Technology at Notre Dame Law School, might know more about the Curt Flood Act than any person in America (including the authors of it). He's literally written volumes about it, and is an expert on all things legal in the baseball world. He contributes regularly to Sports Law Blog and was kind enough to respond to a few of my questions:

Why was Curt Flood such a significant figure? Why does this legislation don his name?

Curt Flood is a significant and symbolic figure in the labor struggles in baseball because he took a stance after his trade from St. Louis to Philadelphia in October 1969 that he would not accept the trade. He brought a lawsuit with the financial support of the Major League Baseball Players Association (MLBPA) at a time when the union was just beginning to gain some strength against the owners. Flood lost his case at the Southern District of New York, the Second Circuit Court of Appeals, and the United States Supreme Court.

So, despite losing his lawsuit, some see Curt Flood as a major figure in the creation of free agency. The arbitration decision that created free agency involved Andy Messersmith and Dave McNally. When Curt Flood made his stand in 1969 and into the early 1970s, active players did not come to his support by testifying at his trial or openly supporting him to the press. They were not empowered in 1969 to force changes in the game. By 1975, when the McNally-Messersmith decision was rendered, the balance of powers between owners and theMLBPA had changed dramatically. Flood made a personal sacrifice of his career to advance the cause. There is a good deal of complexity and nuance to this story, and the many books and articles that have been published in the last few years concentrating on Curt Flood explored much of that. Flood is honored for his “early” efforts during a period of great transition. Because of the success of 1975 in creating free agency and because baseball did not collapse as so many predicted, I think that Curt Flood is seen as a symbolic figure in advancing the cause of players’ rights. When I wrote about this in an article published in the Marquette Law Review and later in a legislative history of the Curt Flood Act of 1998, I argued that the naming of the act for Flood was a “hollow” victory. His case was not tried as an antitrust case, although it was largely brought as such. He lost his case although many commentators consider the Supreme Court decision to be an incorrect one. In his dissenting opinion, Justice Thurgood Marshall argued that the case had labor implications that could override antitrust ones, and he certainly predicted the future in this area correctly. So, the Curt Flood Act stands for the proposition that major league players, and only major league players, have the right to use antitrust law in the same way as other professional athletes. However, because labor law policy wins out, and that policy largely produced the result that Flood sought for himself, I think that naming the act for him was symbolically nice but ultimately not that legally significant.

What were the main effects of this legislation? Did it prompt any real change?

After the 1994-1995 lookout was resolved, both MLB and the MLBPA agreed to go to Congress to jointly request legislation to change theantitrust exemption with respect to labor relations. The move was largely symbolic because as long as a labor relationship exists between the union and management labor policy trumps antitrust policy as determined by the Supreme Court in Brown v. Pro Football, Inc., 518 U.S. 231 (1996). There is a really narrow possibility that if a union decertified and the National Labor Relations Board agreed that the process was appropriate, that the antitrust leverage would reappear. This technique has been used effectively in the past by the NFLPA.

So, I do not think it has really changed baseball. What it has done from my perspective is actually entrench the business as it existed in 1998. The passage of the act has made it more difficult for minor league players or the champions of the rights of minor league players to change the labor conditions in that area.

The legislation seems to be very narrow in scope and to apply only to MLB players. In fact, it contains a specific clause to exclude minor leaguers. What exactly did this clause state?

The Curt Flood Act can be found at 15 U.S.C. § 27a (2006). Subsection (b) provides a limitation to subsection (a) that specifically states that only the employment of major league baseball players playing at the major league level is covered by the legislation. The specific language involving minor leaguers is as follows:

“No court shall rely on the enactment of this section as a basis for changing the application of the antitrust laws to any conduct, acts, practices, or agreements other than those set forth in subsection (a). This section does not create, permit or imply a cause of action by which to challenge under the antitrust laws . . . (1) any conduct, acts, practices, or agreements of persons engaging in, conducting or participating in the business of organized professional baseball relating to or affecting employment to play baseball at the minor league level, any organized professional baseball amateur or first-year player draft, or any reserve clause as applied to minor league players.”

Just to be clear, the law included a second subsection, (b)(2) that stated that the Professional Baseball Agreement between Organized Baseball and the National Association of Professional Baseball Leagues cannot be the cause of any action or “any other matter relating to organized professional baseball’s minor leagues.” The question of whether or not independent minor league baseball is covered would need to concentrate on the word “organized.” The legislative history, in my opinion, supports the argument that the independent minor leaguers are also not accorded any right to bring a cause of action under the statute.

Subsections 3-6 also make it clear that franchise relocation is not altered by the act; the act does not change the antitrust exemption created by the Sports Broadcasting Act of 1961; umpires cannot use the Curt Flood Act to their advantage; nor can anyone else use the act to attack the basic structure of Major League Baseball.

You've written about entities within minor league baseball lobbying Congress during the passage of this act. Can you talk about the effects of these efforts?

Minor League Baseball was quite concerned about the possibility of any changes to the basic “farm system” relationship of minor league teams to major league teams. In particular, major league teams cover the salaries of minor league players, and this is a critical feature to the existing business model of minor league teams. When the legislation was first considered in Congress, Minor League Baseball made sure that it approached the many Congressmen and Senators with minor league franchises within their Congressional districts or states to make sure that any possibility of a lawsuit by a minor league player could not happen by changing the status of major league players. Most courts that have considered baseball’s historic antitrust exemption have held that it covers the entire business of baseball. The legislation basically left a slight bit of ambiguity by stating that baseball players are “subject to the antitrust laws to the same extent such conduct . . . would be subject to the antitrust laws if engaged in by persons in any other professional sports business affecting interstate commerce.”

Link to the act in its entirety:

http://roadsidephotos.sabr.org/baseball/curtflood.htm

I'm baaaacck!

2010-01-05T09:40:00.002-06:00

I took a little holiday hiatus. Here's a few events from the past two weeks:

--I made the annual tour of the Midwest, in which I spent a day and a half in Advance, Missouri (my parents' house, actually ten miles outside of it in the middle of a woods) before spending a day and a half in Decatur, Illinois (where my in-laws live).

--I received six Zhu Zhu pets, and one Tickle Me Elmo. (That's a bold-faced lie. I received neither. Instead I got three sweaters and two dress shirts.)

--My mom made 18 different types of cookies, and I was disappointed. (Usually she's over the 20 mark.)

--I gained 2.5 pounds, from said cookies.

--I picked up my dogs poop, and for the first time, I was happy. (It's so cold that it warmed my hand up.)

--I watched Mizzou play perhaps the most atrocious bowl game ever played. Navy, well, blew them out of the water.

So those are a few highlights, and here a few links:

A teammate and friend, Dan Runzler, was named minor league Reliever of the Year by Milb.com. I played with Runzler at two different levels last year and have to say he's a good dude. I already told him this, but congrats again.

http://mlb.mlb.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20091221&content_id=7838298&vkey=news_mlb&fext=.jsp&c_id=mlb

I wrote a "Suitcase Chronicles" article around the time of the Rule 5 draft, and finally it's posted. (Cleanliness, not timeliness, is next to Godliness.)

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/prospects/prospect-diary/2010/269325.html

Lastly, Sadowski signed back with the Giants, albeit the Korean Giants. He'd talked to them for a while, even before his signing with the Astros. He and his agent even negotiated an opt-out date in his Astros' contract, in which he had a short period of time to still negotiate with Asian teams.

I think it's a great decision for him, as it's guaranteed money. When you've had two arm surgeries, you gotta take the money as it comes. And thanks to David O'Donoghue in Dublin (no, I didn't make that up) for forwarding me the link to the story in the Korean papers.

http://www.koreaherald.co.kr/NEWKHSITE/data/html_dir/2009/12/23/200912230093.asp

Keep sending me links! And here's to a wonderful and prosperous 2010 for all!

A Steve Kline Christmas

2009-12-26T17:42:00.003-06:00

A conversation with Steve Kline is like a conversation with a flying cow. Even if you don't learn anything, it's going to be memorable.

Kline, who played eleven seasons in the big leagues, began his coaching career last year as the pitching coach of the Augusta GreenJackets, the Low A affiliate of the SF Giants. The guys loved him.

I was a little leery about Kline's coaching abilities. Let's face it, just because the guy could made left-handed batters look as foolish as a fattie in a Speedo doesn't mean he'll be able to teach the skill. And he always seemed so goofy. Soon, however, I was hearing stories from other guys claiming he was the best thing for pitching since Eddie Cicotte invented the knuckleball. Two months into the season, teammate (and great guy) Dan Runzler proclaimed him his savior. My doubts were allayed.

While I haven't ever had Kline as a pitching coach, I've talked to him a time or two. Yes he's goofy. And yes, he has a shaggy haircut. But he also knows a lot about pitching.

Recently I talked to him while working on a story. The story didn't pan out, but I asked Kline about some of his favorite Holiday memories. First I asked about his childhood memories, and he claimed he didn't have any good ones. He said he was the youngest of a bunch of brothers and simply got beat up all the time. Then I asked about some of his favorite holiday memories as a player.

"In St. Louis I always met up with Tim Forneris (the grounds crew member who caught Mark McGwire’s 62^nd homerun ball and immediately returned it). We’d always do charity work all over the city," Kline said. "We would go to shelters and hospitals and hand out gifts. We’d get a list of kids and moms of needy families from a social worker, and I’d just go to Walmart. I’d buy anything from video games to clothes and jackets. And then we’d always go and buy Honeybacked Hams and pass them out to them. That’s something I really liked to do for the Holidays."

I loved his response, and so I wanted to share it. He said he still does charity work around his hometown in Pennsylvania throughout the Holidays, often working with a group called Women in Transition. He doesn't do it to get attention. He does it because he thinks its the right thing to do, and that's the best part of it. He's sincere in his intentions. You can tell it in his eyes.

Kline looks like such a simple person, but there's a lot more depth to him. While he'd probably take no joy in approaching a calculus problem or analyzing a work of art, he takes a lot of joy in helping others. There's a lot to be said for that.

On that note, I want to wish everyone a wonderful holiday season, filled with good health, a warm home, tasty food to eat, and plenty of love. Perhaps I should do more to spread this love. Maybe next year I'll try to have a Steve Kline Christmas.

Some bully stole my meal money

2009-12-21T13:55:00.004-06:00

I've written before that it's difficult to eat healthy in the minor leagues. Minor leaguers are constantly on the road, fighting a losing battle with Domino's and KFC (oh, but it's grilled now--with the help of beef fat). Players only receive $20 per day for meal money (over half of which goes to clubhouse dues sometimes), and frankly, some players are just idiots when it comes to food.

Some teams are beginning to take steps towards changing things for the better. While at the Winter Meetings, I heard one official claim that an increase in minor league per diem was being discussed. I almost took off my shirt and ran around Indy half-naked, but I've been unable to confirm this (other people I spoke with said they hadn't heard a darn word about it). I'm hoping it was at least informally introduced. I'll keep working on it.

One thing that seems more concrete comes via Blue Jays' GM Alex Anthopoulos. In a fan chat, he recently talked specifically about minor league per diem:

We addressed improving the nutrition at the big league level last year and I've talked to our Minor League trainers and strength coaches about doing so in the Minor Leagues. MLB rules dictate that club pay their players $20 a day for meal money, we've already instituted a policy to increase that to $25 a day in addition to having our strength coaches work with clubhouse people to provide nutritional and healthier options for our players.

This is a very sound policy. The minor league players are the future of major league organizations. Yes, only a small percentage of them eventually make significant contributions, but they are the future nonetheless. Wouldn't it make sense for the players to eat healthy?

One good thing about Anthopoulos' statement is that the strength coaches are going to work with the clubhouse people to ensure that better options are available. With around one half of daily calories consumed at the clubhouse, this is an easy fix. Teams can throw all the meal money they want at players, but if crappy food is all that is on the pre-game and post-game spread, then they're going to eat crappy food.

A little more should be done to educate players as well. Let's face it, most of us are 22 or 23 year-old guys. Guys don't always think about fruits and vegetables. Some teammates are just clueless when it comes to food. More knowledge on the subject couldn't hurt.

The increase in per diem for Jays' players is great news. Meal money has been at $20 a day as long as most in the minor leagues can remember (some former minor leaguers claim it was at that level in the mid-90s, others disagree). When you eat as much as a young male athlete, this isn't nearly enough.

A quick assessment of the cost to the Blue Jays reveals the following:

Extra $5 per day for around 70 games played on the road=$350 per player.

Around 26 players on each minor league roster= $9100 per team

Four full-length teams= $36,400

Two short-season teams= around an additional $9100

Total cost (not including spring training, extended spring training, etc.)= $45,500

This is slightly less than the amount the BlueJays paid to Lyle Overbay each game in 2009 ($49,074--and seven cents per game).

I think teams can afford an extra $5 in meal money. Hopefully more teams follow in the birdsteps of the Jays.

Off-season work

2009-12-17T16:56:00.002-06:00

I recently wrote a story about St. Louis area minor leaguers. I described some of their offseason jobs: some were painting wrought iron fences, some were giving pitching lessons, most were working a couple of jobs to pay the bills.

I've talked to buddies around the country and have heard of guys working at Lowes, at Mexican restaurants, delivering pizzas, and doing handyman jobs. In a piece last year, I even talked about a buddy who delivered Jimmy John sandwiches using a bike with no breaks.

Applying for these jobs is always odd. You go in, ask for an application, and have to write down "San Francisco Giants" for your previous employer. If you're lucky enough to get an interview, the manager will ask why the hell you need a job if you're a professional ballplayer. But that's only if you're lucky enough to get an interview. Some won't even consider hiring you. They assume you'll want too much money, you have no job skills, or you won't really want the job. And then of course you have to tell them you'll only be able to work for three or four months.

A couple of friends get around this by not even saying they're ballplayers. They tell employers they're college students seeking part-time employment. They claim it makes life a lot easier for them.

What am I doing this off-season? A number of things besides writing this drivel. I've begun giving pitching lessons (a minor league staple), but lessons have been slow. I've also been selling a few pieces of writing (thanks Baseball America), but as others will attest, it's much easier to get published than to get paid. After getting fingerprints taken, paying for a background check, obtaining a TB test, requesting transcripts, and making numerous phone calls, I'm on the sublist at three different school districts, but I've only been called to sub four times in two months. (This is better than a teammate in California, who spent $300 getting certified to sub and still hasn't been called.)

I need to buy a few more Christmas presents, but funds are limited. I could always crawl to my wife and beg for money, but I feel so useless doing that. In fact I already purchased a couple of items for her, but it simply reminded me of a line from "Rounders" (where KGB tells Mike that he's paying him with his money.)

Maybe I'll just make some Christmas gifts. I went down to the basement a few days ago and found old catching gear, cardboard boxes, a few pieces of plywood, and an old microwave. I'm in the process of making a radioactive cardboard catcher. I'm not sure who I'm giving it to, but I think someone will appreciate it.

Links from Winter Meetings

2009-12-12T10:07:00.003-06:00

I've made a few "Suitcase Chronicles" entries from the Winter Meetings. Here are a couple of links:

"It's Raining Men" (my initial impression of the Meetings--a caucasian bratwurst fest):

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/prospects/prospect-diary/2009/269254.html

"Willie Wonka's Baseball Factory" (Thoughts of wandering around baseball's trade show):

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/prospects/prospect-diary/2009/269265.html

And lastly, this isn't from the Winter Meetings, but it's an article written by Matt Nestor of the Columbia Daily Tribune. Matt's a great writer and is always fun to talk to:

http://www.columbiatribune.com/news/2009/dec/11/minors-far-from-the-show/

I should have one more article regarding the Winter Meetings (sitting through the Rule 5 draft), and then I promise to diversify a bit. See you soon!

Expectations for the Winter Meetings

2009-12-06T20:28:00.002-06:00

Oh, the Winter Meetings.

Yes, I’m attending (hopefully writing something for Basebll America). Indianapolis is only a few hours from St. Louis, so I’m riding over with my agent (Nick Brockmeyer). Since I’ve never been to the Winter Meetings, I’m not sure what to expect, but here are a few thoughts:

Everyone tells me that the Winter Meetings are a circus. Since people are generally honest, I take them at their word. So instead of a hotel convention center, I’m expecting a giant tent for the entire event. (Probably the same tent used for the State Dinner Party, only this time I will be the one crashing it.) Mr. Selig will arrive riding an Indian elephant—perhaps sporting a flowing robe and giant turban, riding atop the elephant with back straight and arms crossed. Scantily clad, masked dancers will accompany him, and bongo drums and rhythmic chants will scream in the background. He’ll slide down the elephant’s tail, be fed grapes from the hand of a dancer, and pronounce the beginning of the games. All the while I’ll be eating a corndog.

Mr. Boras will play the part of a lion tamer. Journalists will watch his every move as he grapples with one GM after another (the lions). They’ll emote “oohs” and “aahs” as he lures the cats closer. They’ll wait for that inevitable false move, where the cats will pounce upon him and eat his intestines like the velociraptors in Jurassic Park. Yet the mistake will never come. He’ll defeat every one of them, step on their heads, and then gloatingly answer questions while the cats purr in the background.

After I exit the main event, I’ll dodge knife throwers, sword swallowers, unicyclists, jugglers, and fire-breathers. These will be ex-players mixed with people who have never touched a baseball, all of whom will attempt to parlay their circus tricks into jobs. Some will be dressed like accountants; others will be dressed like people who spent the last 10 years on a baseball field. All will be looking for that “glamorous” job that pays little and asks for 70 hours a week—the much sought after “foot in the door” that allows them to pass around a business card with a baseball on it. All the while I’ll be eating a funnel cake.

I’ll step outside of the job fair and will immediately find people hawking beads and lotions, which they claim will heal every pain that I have never had. They will be made of titanium or tellurium or some other magical metal or metalloid, and I will be told that if I don’t immediately pay $20, I’ll probably break a leg while dodging a unicyclist. This will be the trade show, and I will find twelve lords leaping, eleven ladies dancing, ten pipers piping, nine drummers drumming, eight maids milking, seven swans swimming, six geese laying, FIVE GOLDEN RINGS…sorry got off track (listening to too much Christmas music already). Anyways, I’ll be talked into buying some sort of magic oil and will throw down my funnel cake and drink the entire bottle at once. I will immediately transform into some version of the Incredible Hulk (the Lou Ferrigno version, not Edward Norton version), pick up a baseball, and hurl it approximately 332 miles per hour. Two seconds later I will die with said funnel cake at my side.

And that is how my trip to the circus will end.

Sadowski signs with the Astros

2009-12-03T09:52:00.004-06:00

I apologize for not writing in a while. I'm trying to actually make a little money right now, substitute teaching and giving pitching lessons, so my wife stops yelling at me. (Just kidding about the yelling. Well, sort of.)

So, Ryan Sadowski. Briefly known to Giants fans as "The Dude" or "The Big Sadowski." Always known to me as "Dow" or "Best friend in the organization." He came out of nowhere to start his career with 13 scoreless innings. Then groundballs started finding holes, a few walks crossed the plate, and a Ben Hur chariot race rounded the bases.

Giants' brass, and fans, quickly dismissed him. In a whirlwind of a season, he was promoted to the big leagues, experienced success, experienced setbacks, was demoted to the minor leagues, taken off the 40 man, cleared waivers, and became a free agent. I'm exhausted just typing all of that.

After entering free agency, he drew interest from several teams. He decided to sign with the Houston Astros. The deal is a minor league contract with an invite to spring training.

It's no surprise the Astros were interested in him. After all, he dominated their lineup in his second start. In writing about it in a "Suitcase Chronicles" entry I said the following:

I watched as he threw sinker after sinker, plowing through the Astros lineup, making guys like Berkman, Tejada, and Carlos Lee look as if they belonged on the South African WBC team instead of an MLB team.

I have no doubt that Dow can pitch again in the big leagues. I'm obviously a bit biased since he's such a great friend, but the guy has the stuff. When he's healthy, I'd pit him against any back of the rotation starter in the big leagues. He's probably not as good as his first two starts, but he's definitely not as bad as his last couple. The truth is somewhere in between. Now he's entering a phase of his career where he is likely to become a journeyman. And this can be difficult.

Journeymen are usually not loyal men. They are mercenaries earning a paycheck. They travel from team to team, sometimes playing for several organizations within a single season. They might spend a few months in Korea or Japan, maybe even make an appearance or two in Mexico, before again traversing the United States. They make few great friends in the game, instead making a plethora of acquaintances.

I played with such a fellow this year by the name of Josh Phelps. Signed by the Giants in the offseason to add depth to the first base position, he was sidelined most of the year when one of his rotator cuff muscles decided to stop working in spring training (you can't trust a nerve). He's a great guy, even if he's a mercenary. In the last six years, he's played with Toronto, Cleveland, Tampa Bay, Detroit, New York (Yankees), Pittsburgh, St. Louis, and San Francisco. That's eight organizations in six years.

Each year he has to learn a new set of teammates and coaches. He enters spring training knowing not a single soul. New to the organization, he competes for a spot. His contract isn't guaranteed, and he could be released at any moment. When this happens, h searches for a new team and new set of teammates. It's a recurring process.

But Josh is a great guy. He's laid back yet serious, works hard but doesn't push the limits too far. He enjoys the game but views it in a realistic way. He shows little emotion. He no longer enters the clubhouse with the fervor of a redneck at his first rodeo, but he earns a decent living by hitting a baseball, and he appreciates that. He has played parts of 8 seasons in the big leagues, appearing in a total of 465 games. Each year he grinds away part of the season in the minors, hoping to put up enough numbers to appear in a few more major league games.

This is the lifestyle that Dow is entering. Simply by gaining a bit of big league time, his prospects have improved. He will now be earning a decent wage even as a minor leaguer. Hopefully he'll earn another chance at the big leagues, and Korea and Japan are still possibilities. His future is still less than certain, but it looks brighter than it did a year ago.

Dow is about to go through another change. He's getting married in a couple of weeks, and I can't wait to see him.

A few links--health care and Darren Ford robbed

2009-11-25T11:25:00.003-06:00

First, here's an excerpt from an Op-Ed I wrote for USA Today:

If baseball and health care were thrust into a formal logic argument, it might look like this:

All those who are rich have health insurance. All professional baseball players are rich. Therefore, all professional players have health insurance.

The above argument might be valid, but it's not true. The majority of professional baseball players are minor leaguers, and we certainly aren't rich. More important, hundreds of players lost their insurance earlier this month.

Some will love me for this article; some will hate me. Hopefully it's worth a read.

Also, continuing on health care, here's an article a teammate emailed me about the head coach of SIU-Carbondale's baseball program. He's undergoing various cancer treatments. It serves two purposes. First, it is a warning to other players, as it shows what can happen when a person abuses smokeless tobacco for their entire life. I touched on players using tobacco waaay too much in a previous Baseball America mailbag. Second, it shows the difficulties that some people have in obtaining needed cancer treatments in today's health care system.

Lastly, one of my teammates was robbed recently!! Apparently Darren Ford, who was just added to the Giants' 40 man after a great season, was working at his offseason job at a Chevy dealership (ironic that Chevy even hired a guy with the last name of Ford). He drove to make a deposit and was robbed at gunpoint. D-Ford is a good dude. He's lightning fast and a great center-fielder. I'm trying to reach him to get his thoughts and make sure that everything is okay.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!!

Pizza and Fried Chicken: Minor league staples

2009-11-17T07:48:00.016-06:00

"Tough to eat healthy when your post-game meal is fried chicken every night."

The quote is from one my teammates. We were recently talking about the difficulties of eating healthy in the minor leagues. We often have this discussion, but we had a specific prompt this time: Pictures of our personable teammate, Pablo "Kung Fu Panda" Sandoval, working out.

I first saw the pictures on Facebook. Pablo doing abs with a med ball. Pablo on a treadmill. Pablo grimacing on a leg press machine. Pablo chopping wood, running through snow, and doing pullups in a barn. (Wait, that's Rocky). Then came the story by the SF Chronicle regarding "Camp Panda." More of the same pictures, and details of Pablo running up mountains--Camelback specifically--in a single bound.

My anonymous teammate sent me the link to the Chronicle's article. We both agreed that we loved seeing Pablo work like this. He's an impact player. His energy is contagious, he loves the game, and he can flat out hit.

We delved further into the situation. Specifically, my teammate asked me a question: Why did they wait until he was an established star to worry about his weight? Why didn't they worry about it years ago, when he was already at 240 pounds but short of 270? Why don't they do more to help minor minor leaguers improve their diets? (Okay, that was more than one question.)

I tried giving an answer. They want to save money? They don't care about players until they reach the major leagues? They weren't good answers.

In my upcoming Baseball America story on salaries (yes it does exist--crossing fingers--should be out in 2 weeks), I touch on this subject, but I'd like to expound upon it here. It's not easy to eat healthy in the minor leagues. Often choices are limited. And often budgetary resources are limited.

There is a fairly easy solution to this problem. Most guys arrive to the field each day around 2 pm. They eat a snack. They eat a full meal around 5:30 after BP. They eat again after the game. This is over half of their daily caloric intake. It's probably close to two-thirds. Why not ensure that these calories are good calories?

A slight effort is made by most teams. Nutritionists give a 15 minute talk in spring training, and guidelines are given for clubbies. But these clubbies are operating on a budget. Players pay dues for the "spread," and an effort is made to keep these dues low. With little money to spend and rushed for time, the result is often quick, easy, and cheap food. The junk food brims with the normal trifecta--fat, sugar, and sodium.

I have to admit I like eating Doritos once in a while. And who doesn't like the occasional corndog? But these shouldn't be staples of pre-game meals. We're playing baseball, not watching a tractor pull at a state fair.

Post-game meals are often no better. Again operating on a short budget, fried chicken and Stouffer's lasagna prevail at the upper levels of the minors. In the lower levels, many teams don't even have post-game spreads to reduce the cost of dues. Instead, players are left to find food themselves. On the road, late-night options near the hotel are limited to McDonald's or trail mix from the local gas station. Some players simply order Domino's Pizza night after night.

Certain teams are beginning to take steps to remedy this. The RedSox, for instance, pay for meals after home games for their "A ball" players. The meals are fresher and more nutritious than the normal post-game meal. It cost them around $5 per player--around $150 per night. With 70 home games, it amounts to $10,500. It's not a small expense, but when these players are the future of your organization--not to mention that teams have spent a lot of money on their top picks--it would seem to be a good investment.

Along with a lack of options, the low meal money allotted players complicates matters. Per diem, provided when the team is on the road, has remains at $20. It hasn't increased since McDonald's introduced the Big Mac. (I actually can't verify that.) For a Double A player, over half of this goes to clubhouse dues. Around seven or eight dollars is left for both breakfast and lunch.

In a story I wrote last off-season, I talked about an effort made to raise per diem. General managers wanted to do it. It just needed a vote by owners. Commissioner Selig didn't even raise the issue at the winter meetings.

Minor leaguers recognize that our situation is better than many in the world. We have food while many go hungry. But we're trying to play at our fullest potential, and it's tough to do so when eating junk food.

Players aren't expecting to eat filet mignon every night. They don't want to gorge themselves on crab legs (too difficult and messy, but man they taste good). They just want to have a healthy meal once in a while. Right now that's a wish that's hard to fulfill.

We'll just keep eating fried chicken and pizza. A few of us will actually reach the big leagues. They'll care about us then.

Update: I've had mixed reports on whether or not the Giants give money for post-game meals in the form of reimbursements. Hopefully more teams begin using the method of the RedSox, where they just pay for decent meals! As of now, I've only heard of a few teams doing this. Hopefully the idea spreads.

I also don't want to come across as criticizing the clubhouse managers. Those guys work their butts off! They don't get the credit, or the pay, that they deserve.

Villalona: paying off a family?

2009-11-09T20:29:00.000-06:00

I've been in enough seafood restaurants to know when something smells fishy. Tonight I just read something smelling so fishy I would've walked out of the restaurant's door and never looked back.

According to Andrew Baggarly's blog, which cites an AP report Angel Villalona is out of jail. Normally I'd be jumping for joy. A teammate who had been accused of something walked out of jail. I should be happy, right?

Well, I'm not jumping for joy. The judge has apparently accepted a request by the family of the victim to drop the charges. Baggarly states that according to rumor, Villalona "paid $150,000 to the family of the slain man."

I went to the website of Diario Libre, the main paper in the DR, to get more information. They're now reporting that instead of 5 million pesos, Villalona actually paid the family 2 million pesons. They cite the mother of the victim as the source, so it seems pretty solid.

So how much is a peso? Well, I did an online search for an exchange rate and it's around 36.68 pesos per dollar. So at 5 million pesos, the amount would've been $136,314. At 2 million pesos? Try $54,524.

I hate believing rumors, but if this is true, then Villalona just paid off a family for a little over $50,000.

Upon Villalona's arrest a month ago, I posted on this blog about it. Here's an excerpt:

Again, I hope that Villalona didn’t commit this murder, but if he did, justice needs to be served. The thought still reigns as almost incomprehensible, but I have to remember that my teammates don’t grow up in cushy little suburbs in the United States, playing 60 games a year for traveling Little League teams that extort $5,000 for the “opportunity” to play. Instead, they come from a still developing country with a high crime rate, where $5,000 represents more than half of the average household income.

Most of the things I stated in that paragraph remain true. I hope he didn't commit this murder. The guy was/is a teammate, and I got along with him more than well. Not only a huge kid but also a huge prospect, a tremendous amount of pressure had been placed on his broad shoulders. He went through times where he displayed a broad smile and he went through times where he was frustrated. I'd consider him a friend.

But I also believe that justice needs to be served. And how can justice be served if the family is paid off?

The prosecutor states that he wants to continue to pursue this case. Obviously I'm no expert in Dominican law, but without a judge behind him, I'm wondering if he'll be able to bring anything to trial.

I wanted to believe my teammate was innocent. I wanted something to come forward to exonerate him. I wanted to see him walk out of prison a free man. But not like this. This just smells like rotten sushi, and nobody likes rotten sushi.

Latest "Suitcase Chronicles:" An e-mailbag

2009-11-07T07:50:00.001-06:00

Here's an excerpt from my latest "Suitcase Chronicles" entry on Baseball America:

But am I tired of pitching? No. Spontaneous thoughts still creep into my head like a snake in the night. Often it's the feeling of a perfect change-up: Feeling it roll off the finger tips at full arm speed, knowing the end-result upon release, seeing the hitter begin the swing too soon, watching the ball harmlessly pound the mitt. Will I ever be without these thoughts? Or will this phantom pitch syndrome haunt me forever?

It's part of a response to the question of whether I am tired of baseball. Since that might be too serious for some, I also answer the question of why baseball players spit so much, and why I am so atrocious at RBI Baseball. (Yes, I'm as horrible as a Britney Spears song.) Hope you enjoy.

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/prospects/prospect-diary/2009/269113.html

Office Cleaning

2009-11-02T16:15:00.000-06:00

There's crap piled everywhere in my office. Files here, papers there, a pile of CDs tossed in a corner, and books everywhere.

I decided to rummage through it today. I started making piles: junk, recycling, shredding, and to be filed. Slowly I made progress. A spot of wood appeared on the left corner of the desk, and soon even the dust seemed to be scattering.

Nearing the end, I opened up a blue folder. It was a folder that I always kept with me while traveling for baseball and in which I kept various receipts. I invaded it, finding receipts young and old, and tossed out the irrelevant material. At the back of the folder I found something: the stub from my first paycheck.

Slightly faded and with corners slightly worn, I inspected it. The name on the front, in characteristic fashion, had been misspelled. The "u" and "i" had been misplaced in what is always a common mistake. The address was my parents' address, as at that time I still used it as my permanent address.

Other than these things, it looked remarkably similar to my current pay stubs. The pay amount is less than the current checks, but just barely: $368.33. I looked at the dates displayed:

Hire date: 06/18/04

Period Start: 06/16/04

Period End: 06/30/04

Pay Date: 06/30/04

Five and a half years of my life have passed since I received this first paycheck. So many things have taken place. I entered the game a naive, idealistic young man fresh out of college. Now I'm married, older, and realism has entered my life. I'm not sure if I've changed for the better or worse, but I've definitely changed.

Okay, back to fall cleaning. Hopefully I'll find an uncashed check.

A future slot-system? Where does the money go?

2009-10-27T10:21:00.000-05:00

Almost everyone agrees that the current draft system is a mess. Almost nobody agrees on how to fix it.

Bud Selig recently voiced strongly his opinion that a strict slotting system is needed.

"That's one that there is no debate in my mind," Selig said while speaking on ESPN's "Mike and Mike Show." "We need an international draft, and we need slotting."

For those not privy to the situation, the MLB currently provides slot "recommendations" for each pick in the top rounds of the draft, but teams are free to exceed these recommendations. The teams that have the most monopoly money often do so.

To use an example from the real world, this is sort of like having recommended speed limits for our highways. Law enforcement officials would be unable to enforce these limits. You think a 17 year old with a fast car is going to obey these recommendations? Of course not, and the same thing applies to the current draft system. Some owners think they're driving on the autobahn, while others exercise more restraint.

Prior to drafting prospects, teams try to assess a player's signability. A large part of this equation is how much money a kid wants. Many kids will say they will sign for slot, but some top prospects throw out exorbitant numbers. This places them at prices that small-market teams can't afford. The argument can then be made that teams with more money are able to acquire more talented players on a more regular basis.

If equity in the game is a goal, and I'm not completely sure that is the goal, then a strict slotting system needs to be instituted. A system not unlike the NBA's draft is envisioned, in which hard numbers are in place for each pick.

I'm not a huge proponent of this system, but I'm also not completely opposed to it. I think huge signing bonuses can be dangerous. It sets up a system in which some players, because of the money invested in them, are too big to fail, just like some of our banks. Instead of the best players with the best numbers reaching the big leagues, it sets up a situation in which the players with the most money invested in them reach the big leagues. They get bailed out time after time and are virtually guaranteed a call-up.

The main question I have regarding this system is this: What happens to the money saved? Does it go to the owner's pocketbook? Does it go to adding on another $1 million to the big league payroll? Or does it get invested back in the minor leagues?

This would seem like a simple solution to improving conditions for minor league players. Any money saved on reigning in bonuses could be allocated to a small salary increase for minor leaguers, or simply for paying the rent of minor leaguers. Maybe even, heaven forbid, they could pay the players during spring training or instructional leagues.

Despite Selig's wishes, the likelihood of a strict slotting system still seems fairly low. The owners will no doubt push for this in the next CBA, which ends in 2011, but there will be resistance from the MLBPA. One thing is for sure. The likelihood of a slotting system is certainly higher than the likelihood of minor league salaries actually increasing.

NCAA: Unprofessional baseball salaries?

2009-10-23T10:05:00.000-05:00

A quickie via an email from an anonymous minor leaguer:

I came across this article and found one of the quotes kinda interesting. It talks about how NCAA athletes can ruin their eligibility by playing on a team where other players are being paid some money. Anyways, a women’s volleyball player was playing on a team where 2 of her teammates made $10,000 dollars and the NCAA ruled her ineligible. The interesting quote is this, which is about the girl who was ruled ineligible:

"Gijsbertsen received housing and $4,700 to defray expenses, not a sum that qualified as a professional salary...”

Just thought it was wierd that the salaries that some guys make in short season or extended spring training aren't even considered large enough for the NCAA to qualify it as a professional salary.
This is very interesting on a couple of levels. First of all, some NCAA rules are as absurd as elephant painting, but that is a lengthier discussion.
If the NCAA soon establishes amounts that they deem to be "professional levels of salary," as the article claims, then our anonymous player is correct. Some minor leaguers will not earn enough to qualify as professional players.
The question is this: If a player receives a tiny signing bonus and never makes it out of short-season professional baseball, could he then maintain amateur status? This thought is as absurd as the current salary structure.
Let the elephant painting begin.

http://sports.espn.go.com/ncaa/news/story?id=4579737

Mailbag spillover

2009-10-21T11:13:00.000-05:00

Not all of the questions fit in the small mailbag I'm using for my "Suitcase Chronicles" column on Baseball America, so here are some spillover questions:

Have you always been a major **##****#?

From Mike, in an undisclosed location in Missouri

This question's from a college buddy. Since he's a buddy, he can ask such a personal question. Answer: Yes, I've always been a major **##****#.

As a pitcher, are you watching these playoff closer meltdowns with horror or the sense "Shoot, I could do better than THAT!!" or both?

From Janice, in California

Answer: Shock and empathy.

I'm definitely not going to say I could do better. These are some of the best pitchers in the game. They also happen to be facing some of the best hitters in the game, and once in a while they're going to blow a game.

So no, I can't do better than the closers, but I do at times feel that I could do better than some of the middle relievers.

The horrifying thing to me is the that the entire game is blamed on these individuals. After Huston Street blew the save in game 4 of the NLCS, every headline across America said "Street Blows the Save." Sportscenter displayed the Denver Post headline 14 times before I finally lost count.

Street will bounce back, but I know he's currently enduring some sleepless nights. I feel for him.

Do you remember the time that you got out of the car and walked home because Travis was playing G-Bop (Kenny G) as loud as he could with the windows down?

From Mike again

Answer: yes, I do, and I stand by my actions.

What are your thoughts on the move to Richmond, and the Flying Squirrels mascot?

From a couple of different people. Please raise your hands to be recognized.

P.C. response: Connecticut was a great place to play. I thoroughly enjoyed my time there, as did all of my Giants' teammates.

Glad I got that out of the way.

The situation in CT was less than ideal. Foul weather plagued the team each year, and all of the Californians and Latinos hated the cold. Additionally, the attendance was poor, and many guys weren't accustomed to the small town lifestyle.

I actually found things that I really enjoyed. There's great trout fishing, and you're less than an hour from great beaches. On the rare off-day, players can take day-trips to NYC or Boston.

Richmond is supposed to be a better market, and the weather should be better. From what I hear, the stadium needs improvements, and this might actually be a downgrade from CT, where the facilities were pretty good.

As for the mascot, I kind of like the Flying Squirrels. Who wouldn't like seeing Rocky and Bullwinkle as mascots? And think of the promotion possibilities. Squirrel on a stick in the concession stand? Bring your squirrel to the ballpark day? We'll see what uniforms and hats they come up with. They might be atrocious.

Have you ever chased a car down the street after a hit and run?

Another Mike question (thanks for bringing back memories)

Answer: Yes. Stupid guy was drunk. Hit Travis's car while it was parked in front of the apartment. Totaled it. We got out the video camera once the cops got there. Traumatic night.

Lastly, the comment of the week, which followed my last post:

I play a baseball simulation game on the computer called Out of the Park Baseball. It's ridiculously realistic in most areas, except minor league contracts are for $0. So now I know that's pretty close to realistic, too. :)

That came from Mark. Thanks for making me laugh Mark. (And for making me depressed.)

The worst song ever: http://www.last.fm/music/Kenny+G/_/G-bop

Flying squirrels: http://www.baseballamerica.com/blog/business/

Rock Band: Manchester Orchestra

2009-10-17T08:36:00.001-05:00

Athletes often whine and complain. They usually do so because they're selfish, egomaniacal, self-absorbed, opportunistic prima-donnas, so far removed from reality that Barbara Streisand looks down to earth in comparison. (Whew, that was a mouthful.) Most have as much reason to whine as my rottenly spoiled dog.

But every once in a while, there is reason behind the madness. Every once in a while there is something going on that isn't quite right. (Ex: see MLB during 1985 off-season, when it was found that owners really were colluding after only 4 free agents switched teams.)

Minor league baseball players love the game. We're grateful for every opportunity that we're given. We understand how fortunate we are to be in the position that we are in, and we know that our job is better than many. But there is something going on in this game that isn't quite right.

Again, I've been working on a longer story on this, so I won't go into a lot of the numbers, but I want to expound upon one of the problems by using an analogy. (Via a friend. His name is Chris and he works at Anheuser Busch. Please find him on Facebook and ask for free beer.)

Chris commented on my last post, comparing our careers to those of musicians, and how we have to weigh the risks and rewards. This seemed to make as much sense as eating breakfast before lunch, so let's take the analogy farther.

You could say that there are three levels of musicians. The first level are the local pubbers and clubbers. They've yet to sign a record deal, make pennies for each performance, and still drink Natural Lite. This level is equivalent to most independent teams in baseball. (A few ind. leagues would be exempt, such as the Atlantic League. These would be the equivalent of the indie rock scene in Brooklyn.) Most pubbers and clubbers will never play beyond these small settings.

The middle level are those already signed to a decent record label. Those in the industry have recognized their talent. They might have an album, and probably have a song playing on a few radio stations. They've begun to receive a following, and routinely play in front of a few thousand people, drinking slightly classier, yet still blue-collar Jack and Coke. The hardcore fans in the mosh-pit know their names and their lyrics, but except for hardcore fans, they remain relatively obscure. These are the affiliated minor leaguers: the talent has been recognized and they've been signed by MLB teams, but they're still in the development stage.

The last-level of bands are the stars. They make a lot of money, they play on the big stage, they're on all the radio stations, and Nickelback sings songs about their lifestyle. These bands drink whatever the hell they want, even if many still prefer Natty Lite or Jack and Coke. They're the major leaguers.

Manchester Orchestra is the equivalent of a Double A baseball player. The talent is there, they've been signed, and once in a while you'll hear their songs. Most likely they'll fizz out like a tablet of AlkaSeltzer, but with a little luck and a few more songs, they might be the next Kings of Leon. (I personally like them better than KOL, but I'm also a nerd that reads books.)

If Manchester Orchestra was to come to St. Louis, they'd play at The Pageant. A packed house would be there, listening to the music and drinking $6 beers. Now imagine if Manchester Orchestra played this show, but The Pageant didn't pay them a dime. Instead, their record label paid them only $50 for the night. The Pageant would be getting a free ride.

This is what is happening to affiliated minor league baseball players, as currently the minor league affiliates pay no part of their salaries. In certain places around 10,000 fans come to the games each night, but they don't pay the players a dime. Instead, the MLB owners pay them around $50 a night.

Now I'm not saying that the affiliated teams should be on the hook for all of players' salaries. I'm not even completely convinced they should pay any of them. But they could afford to take small steps.

One step that has been suggested by players is to pay for housing. Currently, players pay for housing, and many can't afford it. This leads to the types of living situations described in my previous post. Additionally, it makes for a headache when a player moves from team to team on a moment's notice, and suddenly they have to worry about paying rent here, there, and everywhere.

Some affiliated teams would find this difficult no doubt, but some are getting rich and could easily afford this. Affiliated minor league teams set their sixth straight attendance record in 2008, at more than 43 million. Many teams have doubled in value in the past 10 years, now worth in excess of $20 million.

Paying $400 a month doesn't sound like a lot, but it is significant to players in that it represents a third of their paychecks. Five months of rent for 30 players would cost teams around $60,000. Most teams could afford this $60,000.

Fans will say that teams will raise ticket prices in response. Nobody wants to see this, but many teams could afford it without a price raise. Even if they did raise prices, it would be a tiny amount. Consider this: most teams average over 200,000 in annual attendance. Even my old team, the Connecticut Defenders, broke 200,000 in 2009 despite being at the bottom of the league in attendance. A small price increase of 50 cents would yield $100,000.

In the 1990s, MLB teams forced the minor league affiliates to raise the level of their facilities. Many affiliated owners gave the end of days speech, but it has since resulted in a period of prosperity. Affiliated teams would no doubt find a working business plan.

The MLB teams could be taking steps as well. It would seem to be in their best interest to ensure that players optimally develop. Decent meals and sleep don't seem too much to ask for (see Maslow's opinion on this). In my opinion the signing bonuses of top picks are out of control, and they're skimping on the overall minor league system. They're robbing the poor to pay the rich. A slight pullback in signing bonuses could off-set improvements in the minor leagues. But of course the agents and the lawyers of the MLBPA won't go for this.

Minor league players recognize what they are: minor leaguers. They know most are doomed for obscurity, and they don't expect to be paid richly. They don't expect to drive Bentley's or to dress as if they're auditioning for the next Kanye West video. They just want to be able to afford to eat.

Okay, I'm done whining. I know you now think that I'm an egotistical asshole, and so I apologize. I promise we'll talk about something else in the next post. Please don't hate me. I'm just trying to help a few people out.

A few links:

http://www.themanchesterorchestra.com/

1985 Collusion Article: http://www.hardballtimes.com/main/article/collusion-and-the-no-risk-free-agents-of-1988/

Natural Light: http://beeradvocate.com/beer/profile/29/1524

The Plight of the Minor Leaguer, Pt. 1 of 6000

2009-10-16T10:33:00.000-05:00

This week I've been working on a longer (by my standards) article on the depressed state of minor league salaries that will soon appear in Baseball America. Specifically, I'm comparing current salaries to those in 1975 and am giving reasons for why they've remained practically unchanged for 34 years.

I'm going to save the numbers for the article, but today I wanted to expound upon one of my favorite quotes from it:

"We had 12 players, two wives, and a baby staying with us all at once."

The quote is from Barbara Rothstein. Residents of Norwich, Connecticut, she and her husband served as a host family for the then Double A affiliate of the Yankees, the Norwich Navigators. As knowledge of her services grew, more and more players wanted to live with her to save money, and every sole was welcomed.

You might be thinking that a mansion would be needed to house all of these players, but in fact, they live in a normal looking, 3 bedroom ranch-style home. So, where did all the players stay? In a Hooverville in the backyard? Or perhaps they brought in a mobile home for the summer?

The full basement is partially furnished, with storage on one side and a long open space on the other. As you walk down the steps today, you'll see an older big screen TV on the far wall, but something else will immediately grab your attention: there are futons everywhere.

Almost all of the players stayed in this room--some with their wives--all of them sleeping on the futons in the cave-like darkness of the basement. It made for a strange sort of communal living that would even procure a look of disbelief from an anthropology student. They did so because their paychecks were so low and because Barbara kept them so well-fed. She even ran a shuttle-service back and forth to the park for them.

If you're in the minor leagues for long enough, you'll hear a lot of stories such as this. Though this is one of the more extreme examples, it isn't an isolated incident. Many players live in less than desirable conditions and yet play in front of 5,000 or even 10,000 people everyday they go to the park.

Now you know a small part of the "what." We'll talk about an example from the "why"s category in the next post.

Catching up on links

2009-10-15T08:57:00.000-05:00

I wanted to catch up on some links to recent articles.

First, here is an excerpt from my latest "Suitcase Chronicles" entry for Baseball America:

I then approached the TPX baseball bag. It sat at an angle in the bedroom. One strap dangled from its side and displayed a nametag: "Garrett Broshuis, Pitcher." It hypnotized me.

"Garrett Broshuis, Pitcher."

I'd played this game since I was a boy. Pitching had become as much a part of me as my blue eyes and ugly eyebrows. I'd carried this title and all its baggage everywhere I went.

Deadspin

I also wrote a piece for Deadspin recently about a "toy drum." It's a locker room tale (might not be for kids):

http://deadspin.com/5377263/a-solo-on-the-toy-drum

Thanks to everyone

2009-10-09T14:31:00.001-05:00

I want to thank everyone who has left comments and sent emails lately. (Well, thanks for the complimentary emails. Those others accusing me of being Satan's second cousin I could live without. Just kidding, of course. Criticism is a good thing, and I'm in no way related to Satan.) One of the emails I received recently informed me that Keith Olbermann had complimented my writing, and it blew my mind.

In college, I once pitched against one of Andy Van Slyke's sons. Van Slyke happened to be at the game, and I was fortunate enough to pitch well. After the game he came up to one of my coaches and said, "That guy can really pitch." To hear a positive remark from someone with that much knowledge of the game did wonders for me. It sort of validated all of the hard work I had put into improving myself.

Well, I don't receive too many compliments like that about my pitching anymore. Hell, I don't know if I'll ever receive another compliment like that about my pitching. But it means a lot to receive a compliment from a long-time journalist such as Olbermann in a different area of my life.

There are a lot of problems in the game of baseball, especially in the treatment of minor league players. I know that the life that we live is better than many others. I'm grateful for every opportunity that I've ever had in this game and I love playing, but players are being mistreated by owners, and some things need change. My ultimate goal in my writing is to eventually shed more light on a few of these things. And hopefully I'll produce a laugh or two in the process.

I know that some of these hardships pale in comparison to other hardships in the world, but that doesn't mean that the situation in which we live is just. There are a lot of people getting rich in this game, including within minor league baseball. Meanwhile, the actual minor league players often sleep on floors and air mattresses and never see their wives or children. It doesn't seem fair.

Okay, I'm done tooting my own horn and ranting for a while. Have a good weekend.

Updated Poll: Big leaguers aren't watching the playoffs, minor leaguers are.

2009-10-08T12:37:00.000-05:00

An update from previous polling numbers, it seems that players with big league time are less likely to watch the playoffs. In another very unscientific poll that is about as revealing as a sweater vest, the poll found that only 1 out of 6 big leaguers planned on watching the majority of playoff games.

The poll surveyed a total of 6 big leaguers from 4 different organizations. Most failed to give a reason for their lack of interest. One key difference seems to be that whereas minor leaguers feel that the playoffs present an opportunity to learn, big leaguers feel that they have already arrived to their destination and have less to learn.

Or perhaps they simply don't want to watch.

Poll shows that the majority of minor leaguers will watch the playoffs

2009-10-07T09:08:00.000-05:00

According to a new non-random poll, approximately 60% of minor league baseball players plan to watch the majority of playoff games. The poll, conducted by GB polling services via text, contains a margin of error of approximately 727%.

Most respondents said they weren't cheering for any particular team. Some claimed that they "knew" a few of the players on other teams, and would cheer for these particular individuals, but most declined to proclaim any further allegiance.

Those that claimed they would be watching the majority of games said that they "hoped to learn something" by watching them. The games seem to present a rare opportunity for minor league players to actually watch baseball at its highest level, as during the season most are consumed with playing everyday, which allows them little chance to digest a baseball game.

The minority that do not plan to watch the games gave a variety of reasons. One claimed that work would prevent his viewing. Another said he simply didn't care to watch and that he had seen enough baseball over the six month season. One lone individual claimed, "It's hockey season." The interrogator's response: "Maybe hell will freeze over and you can play hockey there."

Most individuals expressed that their viewing of baseball had changed in the years since they entered professional baseball. Most do so more objectively, trying to dissect every single play. Many also suggested that part of the fun had been removed from watching, but as one individual stated, "It's still great to watch."

Buscones and Cocaine: What the hell? And what to do?

2009-10-02T10:16:00.000-05:00

Perhaps no force has shaped the growth of Dominican baseball more in the past 20 years than the buscón. (Hint: it rhymes with the thing you dip into your coffee.) And yet, hardly anybody in America has ever even heard of the term. When one of them is caught with 293 kilos of cocaine, a couple of submachine guns, and a rifle with a silencer, maybe people should start paying attention.

(see Melissa Seguaro’s piece here: http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2009/baseball/mlb/09/27/dominican.trainer/index.html?eref=twitter_share)

It sounds like a recipe for a Quentin Tarantino movie. According to one estimate, the cocaine that Jose Gabriel Arias Castillo possessed was worth $5.86 million. It's enough cocaine to get a herd of elephants high for the rest of their lives. The former Phillies’ minor leaguer turned buscón even used baseball equipment bags to conceal the drugs. So what the hell is a buscón?

A rough literal translation is “one who searches.” In America we’d call them bird dogs. The buscón lives in all parts of the Dominican, turning over every leaf in their talent quest, often plucking kids out of their families’ houses at age 12 or 13, promising them a better life at their “academies.”

“Throw a scout, a coach, and an entrepreneur into a blender, then mix, and you have a buscón,” Jim Salisbury of the Philadelphia Inquirer once said.

The buscones often care for the kids, providing them with food and training. The business, totally unregulated, has exploded, and every MLB team deals with buscones when they sign Dominican players.

Often the players do not pay for the services of the buscón upfront. Many parents of American kids pay for baseball lessons, but parents in the Dominican can’t afford to do so. Instead, they agree to pay a portion of the kid’s signing bonus, if there ever is a signing bonus. The buscón accepts a high degree of risk, and so the parents agree to pay 25 or 30 percent of a signing bonus; even 50 percent is not unusual.

Teammate Angel Villalona told me earlier this year that he gave his buscón $750,000 of his $2.1 million bonus, a percentage of more than 30 percent. Agents in the states, in comparison, typically receive around 4 or 5 percent for their services.

Despite this, almost every Dominican teammate speaks highly of the buscones. On a long bus ride recently, we talked about them.

“They give you better food, they give you a better bed, and they teach you the game,” one Dominican told me. “A lot of kids are poor and their parents can’t feed them. This way they’re taken care of, especially if they have talent. They even give them protein shakes.”

Many speculate as to whether or not they give more than protein shakes, and MLB even maintains a list of buscones known to distribute steroids. Yet with no way to perform drug testing on players not under contract with MLB teams, there is still speculation that at least some young kids are receiving steroids as part of their training.

“Some are bad people,” my Dominican friend conceded. “Most don’t give steroids, as this would give them a bad name if they were caught. But some do.”

Other buscones are involved in the business of forging documents. In the post-911 era, requirements for documentation have increased, and MLB has even begun the controversial practice of performing DNA testing on some prospects to try to deduce a true age. This has made document forging more difficult, but with so much money being paid to the buscón, there is tremendous incentive to falsify ages. A sixteen year old with tremendous raw talent might receive a signing bonus in the millions, whereas a nineteen year old with the same raw talent may receive a signing bonus in the low six figures.

The buscón no doubt plays a valuable role in the development of Dominican baseball talent, but the business needs greater regulation. Many buscones are legitimate baseball men. Several former professional players operate as buscones, including MLB star Ramon Martinez. Professors and accountants can be found in the ranks of the buscón, but just as many sleazier subjects can be found as well.

These sleazier subjects need to be found and eliminated. Also, some sort of standard on services provided and payment accepted needs to be established. Until these things are done, there will be too many kids being misused by the likes of Arias Castillo, with his submachine guns and cocaine ring.

SFGate.com: "The dream was falling apart"

2009-09-28T09:09:00.000-05:00

The SF Chronicle asked me if this season was rough, and why I still played. Here's an excerpt of what I wrote:

Going back to Connecticut was harder than being told that I was going to San Jose. It might have been the hardest thing to face in my sports career. Flying across the country, I knew that my chances of coming back to AAA were not good. Furthermore, the feeling that the Giants had given up on me overcame me. The dream that I had lived since I was a boy was falling apart. I had been given one game, and I didn't take advantage of it. As so often happens in this game, just as I had regained hope it had again been ripped away from me.(Here's a Baseball America article on that). This season has made me realize that I'm an organization arm. I'm simply a guy who can fill in at whatever level I'm needed, and it's not an easy thing to swallow, as this isn't my goal. Still, I've pitched against enough big league guys now to know that I can get them out. Over the past two years, only one person in the Giants' minor leagues has more wins than me: Madison Bumgarner. It's thoughts such as these that keep me going.

Do I have doubts? Yeah, all the time. I throw slower than almost any righthander at any level. I'm 27 now and have only a handful of AAA starts. I know that the chances of having a big league career are very, very slim.

I'm not sure how much longer I can keep playing. Unless a person has some big league time, the minor leagues pay players so little that it is difficult to keep playing financially. I also have a wife that I have to think about. I love her dearly and I'm forced to be away from her for six months out of the year. She's very understanding, but I know how tough it is on her. It's tough on me.
Read more: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/blogs/giants/detail?entry_id=48269#ixzz0SPVElxNG

Random Question #1 (with teammates' responses)

2009-09-25T08:36:00.000-05:00

Lighthearted thoughts. Sometimes we get bored in the clubhouse; sometimes we act like idiots. Sometimes bored idiots come up with random idiotic questions. Here's a sample.

Random Question #1 (answers from anonymous teammates follow):

Okay, so you have to choose one of the two:

A) You can never drive again. When I say never, I mean it. For the rest of your life you can never get behind the wheel. In fact, you can’t even ride in a car. No driving to the grocery store for a forgotten item; no more street racing or mudding (for my "Redneck" readers). Biking and public transportation become your only means of movement.

B) You can drive as much as you want. Hell, you can be a Nascar driver if you like. The catch: you have to live in your car for the rest of your life. Eat, sleep, and dream in your car, day after day.

Which do you choose?

Responses

One afternoon in New Britain, I asked almost every teammate this question. I thought A was the obvious option, and if you spend most of your time in a city, you'd probably agree. Some though had a different opinion. A few responses:

"Have you seen how sweet my car is? I would have no problem living in it." ("Yeah, but could you sleep in it every night? Think about your back. And are you honestly going to bring a girl back to your car?" "I could do it.")

"I've got a huge truck. I'd just throw a mattress in the bed." (When told this was against the rules, he reconsidered but still chose option B.)

"Can I put camouflaged curtains on it and shoot things with my pellet gun?" "Sure, why not." "Then I'd live in my car."

More practical:

"Can I take the bus?" "Yeah." "Then I'd choose A."

"What about taxis?" "Nope, no cars." "Hmm. I guess I'd just buy a bike or take the train."

Further Thoughts

Approximately 100% of guys from Texas chose option B (of course, it was a small sample size). I'm not sure if this signifies laziness, a love for cars, or mere Texan stubbornness. Or perhaps they simply have further to travel.

The overall percentage choosing option A came to be about 70%. Obviously those living in a city with greater access to public transportation were more likely to choose A.

There was a Third World Split. The Dominicans all chose Option A, while the one Venezuelan chose Option B. Maybe it's all the cheap gas that Chavez is passing out in VZ.

Last thought: Some people love their cars WAAAYY more than I love mine. Of course, some people have WAAAYY cooler cars than my own. Maybe I'm a dork.

Playoffs: Do we have to play them?

2009-09-22T15:27:00.000-05:00

A link to my latest Baseball America article, in which I explain the love/hate relationship that players possess towards the minor league playoffs. Enjoy!

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/prospects/prospect-diary/2009/268906.html

Villalona: teammate turned murder suspect

2009-09-21T10:47:00.000-05:00

A giant of a kid, homesick and still growing up, navigating his way through the labyrinth that is professional baseball; that is how I would describe teammate Angel Villalona. The game delivered him good times and bad, and he reacted as any teenager would react when under a pressurized microscope. He threw an occasional tantrum but got over it and would soon have a smile on his face.

Now this giant of a kid, the source of such high expectations, is the main suspect in the murder of Mario Felix de Jesus Velete in his hometown of La Romana, Dominican Republic. The incident took place in a bar on Saturday night.

I hope that details come forth that exonerate my 19-year-old friend and teammate. The news is shocking and almost incomprehensible. To think that a man with whom I just recently played is now connected to the death of another human being is hard to swallow.

I am told often by my teammates that the streets of the D.R. are dangerous. At times they exaggerate no doubt, but the latest data puts the murder rate at 23.57 per 100,000. This is much higher than the United States’ rate of 5.8, but also much lower than the famed city of Detroit, which posts a rate of 46.

Still, most of my Dominican teammates claim to carry a pistol with them wherever they go.

“Everyone else has a gun, so you have to carry one too,” one of them told me recently. “Especially if people know you are a baseball player, they might try robbing you, so you have to carry one for protection.”

I don’t know how much of their pistol-packing claims are based on truth and how much are based on myth-building machismo, but enough of them have made the statement that it seems plausible that a plethora of guns fill the streets of the D.R. With that many loaded weapons around, nothing good can come from an altercation.

I’ve had good relationships with every one of my Dominican teammates, Villalona included. Even while assimilating to our culture and learning our language, they like to laugh in the clubhouse and have a good time. I’ve roomed with Dominicans and have forged great friendships with some of them. Still, I realize that the culture from which they come is different than our own.

"It can be dangerous," I remember one of my teammates saying of La Romana. "The area Villalona is from is rough."

To generalize, the Dominicans are a proud people, and if an altercation occurs, they don’t back down. They don’t shy away from a fight, as most claim that they have fought throughout their lives. Having seen a couple of them in small fights, and having seen some of their scars, I tend to believe them.

I’ll be watching this story closely as additional information arises. I’ll be thinking of Villalona’s hearty laugh, and the monstrous power he displayed daily in BP. Hopefully he’s innocent, and I’ll see him back in a uniform soon. But a man died, and if my teammate is guilty of any wrongdoing, then regardless of his fame, fortune or immense potential, he needs to be punished.

Pitching to Score: An Attribution Error

2009-09-16T09:43:00.000-05:00

The situation: two on and two outs, as my opponent’s best hitter approaches the plate. It’s a one-run game, and he pounds his glove-clad hands together as he stares me down. I look past this foaming monster and glance at the on-deck circle, where appears a hitter against whom I’ve had continual success. What do I do? Obviously I pitch around the monster and face the on-deck hitter. I will be sacrificing my strikeout-to-walk ratio in favor of (hopefully) not allowing a run, but in doing so I’ll be increasing my chance of winning.

Now imagine the exact same scenario, but this time instead of being up by only a run, I’m up by six runs. What do I do? I attack the hitter. Allowing a single run is no longer paramount, but allowing more base runners can potentially lead to disaster, so I pitch to their best hitter instead of pitching around him.

A single instance of pitching to a situation, there exist a plethora of other examples as well. All pitchers will attest to performing in this fashion, most with varying degrees of success. But is pitching to a situation the same as the more general concept of pitching to score? And is this even possible?

The theory goes that a pitcher will pitch differently with a one run lead as compared to having a five, six or twenty run lead. (For a primer, see Joe Posnanski’s piece: http://joeposnanski.com/JoeBlog/2009/09/12/pitching-to-the-score/ ) If a pitcher has a one run lead, every pitch will be thrown with the utmost focus, as each pitch is pivotal. If, on the other hand, the pitcher has a six run lead, the pitcher may in fact attack hitters differently. Wanting to avoid free bases and confident that a solo homerun will not beat them, they may throw more fastballs and force contact earlier in the count.

According to this theory, a “winning” pitcher is someone who is better at this. The “winner” knows how to pitch in close games and therefore knows how to win. But in my opinion our eyes are often simply full of crap, and lie to us more than a politician at a campaign rally. (A painful thought). We often see things that aren’t there, and this leads to errors in our reasoning. In this manner, a fundamental error gnaws at every pitcher when speaking of pitching to score.

To illustrate, let’s look at my last three years of pitching (now that the regular season of this year has ended, I can look at these numbers without fear of superstitious retribution). My ERA for the past three years and the corresponding WHIPs are as follows: ERAs: 3.88, 3.78, and 3.20; WHIPs: 1.31, 1.36, 1.29.

The numbers are pretty similar from year to year, and so, given that I had relatively the same amount of starts each year (the only exception is this year, when I briefly pitched out of the bullpen and thus made only 20 starts), one would think that my win-loss records would be similar as well. Well, here are the numbers:

2007: 3-17

2008: 13-9

2009: 12-6

The first number, 3, isn’t a fat-fingered typo produced by too much sodium intake (though I do need to cut back on those sunflower seeds). I only won three games during the entire year of 2007, and I led all of the minor leagues in losses. Yes, I have been told that wins are a poor indicator of performance, but this is only auxiliary to the scope of our argument. What we’re looking for is whether a person can pitch to score.

I have been told by some of my pitching coaches that the reason I am winning more ballgames is that I have gotten better at pitching to score. Since this is a good thing to hear, and it is a good thing for them to think, I tend to nod my head, smile, and say, “Yes, that is something that I’m really working on. I focus a lot more in close situations.”

In reality, though, I don’t think I’m doing anything different. In 2007, a decimating combo plagued me: the worst run support AND the most errors made behind me of any pitcher in the league. Mostly, then, I’ve gotten more run support and better defense in 2008 and 2009, and therefore I’ve won more games.

Yet we athletes are animals driven by ego, and so we like to take credit for our success and deflect blame for our failures. In fact, what many pitchers make when they claim that they pitch to score is probably just an attribution error.

The fundamental attribution error is a bedrock concept of social psychology, with the standard example being actor/observer bias. One aspect of the FAE is that people tend to overemphasize internal factors and underemphasize the external. By a strict definition it doesn’t completely apply to our argument, but it has plenty of parallels. For instance, one explanation for this error is that we humans like to believe that we have control over our lives. We like to think that the world makes sense. When presented with a given situation, we like to have power over the outcome, as uncertainty becomes our enemy. This certainly applies to pitching.

It makes the pitcher’s mind feel pretty good if he feels that he has control over a baseball game. Conversely, if things are left to complete chance or situational factors beyond his control, then a pitcher feels pretty helpless. But in fact, everyone will agree that chance plays a HUGE role in baseball. With line drives being hit right at a person and bloopers falling after a big pitch, the game hardly seems just.

Athlete after athlete, feeling confident about a win, will go home at the end of the night and think about the things that they did well to have success. They will focus on intrinsic things and forget about the role of chance and the extrinsic factors that contributed. After a failure, though, they are more apt to think of the extrinsic factors and the bad luck that led to their misfortune. It’s much easier to think of these factors beyond your control than to think of all the personal mistakes that were made over the course of the game. The same principle applies with the concept of pitching to score.

Those deemed “winning” pitchers, again driven by ego, say that they are pretty good at pitching to score and pitching to situations. In fact, most winning pitchers are no better at pitching to score or situations than any other pitcher (see Posnanski’s Jack Morris versus Bert Blyleven discussion), it’s just that they have less of these situations. When you allow less base runners, you’re obviously not going to find yourself in these situations as often and you’re going to win more ballgames, unless you’re plagued by terrible run support and bad defense. Furthermore, these pitchers often have good enough stuff to increase their chances of getting out of a jam unscathed.

So yes, a pitcher will attempt to pitch to a situation and will attempt to pitch to score. Are some pitchers better at this than others? Probably not. The best pitchers simply allow less people to reach (think of Lincecum’s incredible 1.04 WHIP here) and are inherently better when they do reach. It sounds good when a pitcher goes on TV and talks about the amount of control that he has over a situation, and how clever he is when pitching differently depending on the score, but this simply isn’t the truth. He’s simply letting his eyes deceive him, trying to claim control over sometimes-uncontrollable forces. In this way, he’s no different than anyone else.

Freedom? You can keep it.

2009-09-11T22:21:00.000-05:00

A link to my latest Baseball America posting, "Freedom can be overrated." I miss my wife.

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/prospects/prospect-diary/2009/268860.html

Allegory of a Mustache

2009-09-09T11:38:00.001-05:00

Not sure how many lessons can be drawn from the life of a mustache, but hey, I was bored, all right? Writing this entertained me; hopefully its entertaining to read as well.

Allegory of a Mustache

It began with a few hairs slowly breaking through the epidermal walls—barely visible splotches of fibrous protein ripping apart an otherwise pristine upper lip. Soon other bursting follicles followed, and the hairs gained strength and blossomed. The result was every man’s dream: a mustache.

Promise surrounded ‘Stache’s early days, though with promise came uncertainty. A new venture in the owner’s life, it was hard to predict the likely outcome. Flashes of prior brilliance offered hope: a strong supporting performance in the facial arrangement “Golfing Goatee” and a smaller role in the critically acclaimed “Christmas Beard.” Yet small weaknesses worried those that evaluated it. A hairless patch showed itself just below the left nostril and the color tinted a bit towards red—both deemed negative characteristics.

Showing signs of promise, it was allowed to grow. By day 5 it had established itself as a true and capable mustache, gaining positive comments from those that specialize in such hair growth. By day 7, cops began glancing towards ‘Stache’s owner in a more friendly manner, even remarking that ‘Stache might have big days ahead.

‘Stache, spurred by the increased interest, displayed itself proudly, the well-maintained and youthful proteins glistening in the summer sun. It maintained big dreams, hoping that it might one day belong in the same class as the best of the best: Tom Selleck, Rollie Fingers, and Chuck Norris. He even entertained the notion of people soon driving miles just to catch a glimpse of him.

Suddenly, though, an unexpected change happened. As it grew fuller and more mature, the weaknesses became more visible. The small patch of empty space, once a minor blemish, grew more conspicuous and became exposed like a dent on a vintage Corvette.

Despite the glaring weakness, ‘Stache pressed on, hoping to overcome the deformity. It strove to grow fuller, but another setback suddenly occurred as the owner shaved: a painful nick to its lower left corner. ‘Stache, weakened but not beaten, vowed to continue, no longer dreaming of elite status, but still hoping for a long and fruitful existence.

Fierce competition surrounded him, and one day ‘Stache entered the bathroom only to see a dozen others gathered around a mirror. A small brush briskly combed each of their whiskers, and from this brush a mysterious substance entered.

“Here, try this,” the other ‘Staches tempted. “It will make you ten times darker. You’ll be even better than before.”

The other ‘staches turned full and black before his eyes, and indeed, they seemed remarkably better. The substance was magic and held the power to possibly make up for both the blemish and the unfortunate accident. But ‘Stache rebelled and quickly fled the room. He would either exist with only his natural epidermal-covering abilities or he wouldn’t exist at all.

‘Stache pressed on, attempting to wring every ounce of growth out of his follicles, operating under the constant pressure of an unknown fate. He knew that the owner’s patience would soon wear thin, and a critical juncture came each and every time the owner shaved.

The inevitability of the end grew near. One day soon, the hot steel of a razor would crisply cut through his fibers, and in one minute ‘Stache and all the hopes and dreams that he once held, would be gone forever. The facial hair universe would continue expanding without him, marking him for obscurity.

The Internet and Baseball

2009-09-03T10:10:00.000-05:00

I wrote a feature for the current issue of Baseball America on how the internet has changed the game. I present both how it has changed the way fans follow the game and how it has changed the way players communicate with family members. Hope you enjoy!

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/prospects/prospect-pulse/2009/268817.html

Notes on a bus trip

2009-09-01T03:42:00.000-05:00

It's 5:02 in the morning. Why the hell am I up at this hour? Better yet, why the hell am I writing at this hour? Well, yes, I might truly be insane, but I also just got home. No, I wasn't out carousing at the bars, I just got home from a road trip in Harrisburg. I slept a bit on the bus, but then had to drive a car for twenty minutes. Now I can't go back to sleep, so I'm trying to write myself to sleep.

Here's some thoughts from the trip:

10:37 pm:

I'm talking on the phone to my wife just outside of the bus, prior to its departure, when suddenly a giant teenager rushes me. It turns out to be Bumgarner. "Hey, let's go catch a 'possum!" he excitedly yells. Since nobody can turn down this enthusiasm, I tell my wife I'll have to talk to her later; 'possum hunting comes first.

We chase a 'possum up a tree, crawl into the tree, and then search for another. Nearly sprayed by a skunk, we unsuccessfully return as Madison talks of spiders. The bus nearly leaves us as we sprint the last 50 yards.

12:12 am

My wife calls to tell me goodnight. The movie "Pineapple Express" is on and I can barely hear her. The conversation lasts approximately 32 seconds.

12:47 am

"Pineapple Express" ends, much to the chagrin of any stoners present. Many guys are sleeping on the floor by now, others in their seats. One teammate attempts to put on "300", but I exercise movie veto powers, a rarely used and somewhat risky move, due to its noisiness.

1:19 am

We pass NYC via the George Washington Bridge and witness a stunning view. This prompts a question from EME, sitting in the seat directly in front of me, regarding my location when 9/11 occurred. We quietly share stories.

1:22 am

I help EME with the drafting of an email directed at a landlord issue. We then talk about the meaning of life and the days of yore in San Jose.

1:31 am

Having solved various existentialists' dilemmas, I decide to attempt sleep. I lie on the floor next to several other guys, pillow beneath my head. I soon discover that it's hard to sleep with someone else's foot up your ass.

2:25 am

In and out of sleep, I find that the bus vibrations do not produce the same effect as shiatsu massage, as one might hope.

4:18 am

We pull into Dodd Stadium. Each zombie grabs a bag and flings it in the clubhouse. An evening chill stings me as I grab my things and hop into a mist-covered car. I begin my barely conscious drive home, nearly hitting a construction worker.

4:38 am

A minute from my host mom's house, a critter runs out in front of me. Oddly enough, it's an opossum (possibly the same 'possum we chased; perhaps I'm dreaming by now) and I slam on my brakes to avert sending it to its grave. With a slight smile I'm now completely awake.

4:41 am

I walk into my host mom's house and find a note stating that for some reason my room has changed. I eat a snack and can't sleep.

5:11 am

I fall asleep while blogg.............................................................................................................................................................

11:05 am

I re-awake and feel like a group of seamen used my back to illustrate different knot tying techniques. Luckily I'm not pitching today. (It's the 'possum catching teenager's turn.)

Top 10 reasons you know you have August Ass

2009-08-31T13:02:00.000-05:00

August is drawing to a close. My top 10 reasons you know you have August Ass (some of them re-printed from a blog I wrote years back):

10. You wake up every morning thinking that maybe possibly you are at home in your own bed. You then realize that you are in the 122nd hotel room of the season, inducing an attempt at smothering yourself with a pillow.

9. You frown and grimace with each bite of another sandwich from the spread table. With nothing else to eat, you still finish it, have a second, and then look pissed off for no apparent reason.

8. You go to the field and hide every object within the visual spectrum, blunt or sharp, to avoid harming yourself or others.

7. Out of boredom, you find yourself dipping or chewing during games even though you don't dip or chew.

6. You blame everything on a single teammate (every team has a team scapegoat). When this gets old, you blame everything on the trainer, which is never good since he's had a case of the Overworked Ass since February.

5. You had an off-day and wanted to do nothing but sit by yourself with your headphones on.

4. You're tired of sitting in a hotel room so you decide to go to the field early. Upon reaching the field, you find that you're tired of baseball stadiums, and wish you were back in the hotel room.

3. You start howling at the moon for no apparent reason, even during the day, even in public places. You wish the moon would howl back just so you would have someone else to talk to.

2. While walking to lunch, you yell at a random person, "Who's crazy?!" and then just keep on walking.

1. You've already made plans for the first week after the season ends, and think of these plans while banging your head against a wall and crushing another pack of sunflower seeds.

The Stupid 104--the list that is, was, and may never be.

2009-08-26T22:06:00.000-05:00

The Stupid 104. That is what they might as well call the list of 104 idiots that tested positive for performance enhancers in 2003, the year that MLB and the MLBPA devised the genius plan of experimental testing. As if they needed proof that there was a problem.

Of course, they weren't alone, as there were plenty of idiots those days abusing their bodies and thereby abusing the sanctity of the game. For this reason, the list is meaningless in my opinion. I therefore have only mild interest in today's court opinion, similar to the interest that I maintain towards grocery store sushi.

Link to law Prof Michael McCann's article on today's court opinion, which made it unlikely that the list will be released: http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2009/writers/michael_mccann/08/26/mlb.drug.list.ruling/index.html

Oh, I know, you want to know if (insert star's name here), your favorite player, is on the list. You've gotten a taste of these leaked names and want to relish in another idiot's demise a bit more. But is anyone really vindicated simply by the absence of their name on such a list? There were plenty of other years that players were using steroids, and most of these users will never be found on any list. They are guilty nonetheless, and the entire era will be looked upon with shame.

The more the debate over this list continues, the more that this shame continues. How does this relate to life in the minors? Well, the minor leagues have had a testing program in place since 2001, and it is a good one. In fact, rates of steroid abuse are now extremely low in the minor leagues. I've only had one teammate who I definitely knew was using steroids (the idiot told me he was using them). This spring training, he tested positive. Only a couple others have I suspected, and they have been caught and punished, just as it should be.

Yet, clouds of suspicion still follow us to the ballpark like an ugly stalker (are there ever hot stalkers?). This is rightly so, as less than a decade has passed since rampant abuse. But the minor leagues are now very clean (I can't speak for the big leagues, since obviously I'm not there). Sure, a test for HGH is needed, but most minor leaguers don't have the resources or the money to acquire this substance. Steroids were as easy to attain as marijuana in Tijuana; HGH is a different story--you need a crooked doctor and enough cash to buy a BMW.

For this reason, I don't really care if the names of the Stupid 104 are released. Sure it might be wrong to single out a few people, but beyond that I don't have an opinion. I just wish they would make up their minds and get it over with, so that those of us that are clean can perhaps play untarnished.

Stupid 104 and their stupid drugs.

2009-08-26T22:04:00.001-05:00

A prank war, and an unexpected ending. Link to my latest Baseball America posting:

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/prospects/prospect-diary/2009/268731.html

Hope you enjoy it.

Top 10 Reasons to grow a mustache

2009-08-24T22:11:00.000-05:00

For those who haven't heard (via my very annoying Facebook/Twitter postings), I'm growing a mustache. In light of this, I decided to make a top 10 list.

Top 10 reasons to grow a mustache:

10: You can paint with your whiskers like Salvador Dali: http://www.imdb.com/media/rm3197802496/nm0198557

9. A man, or woman, learns a lot about himself/herself when he/she has hair on his/her upper lip. I mean, Chuck Norris grew one and look how it turned out for him.

8. "I'm Ron Burgundy?" (photo: http://www.imdb.com/media/rm3874461952/tt0357413 )

7. To get the feeling that you're a part of some secret fraternity of men who have mustaches (i.e. Rollie Fingers, Dennis Eckersley, Jay Baller and many truck drivers).

6. Just to prove that you can do it. Take that puberty...

5. If you're married, it's the closest thing to a slumpbuster that you'll ever get.

4. Getting food stuck in it is always attractive to the ladies, and you get to savor your dinner more than once.

3. Brad Pitt (via "Inglorious Basterds), Clark Gable, Daniel Day-Lewis (via "There will be blood"), Burt Reynolds, Tom Selleck...need I say more?

2. It increases your chances of driving an ice cream truck, being hired as a cop/fireman, becoming a dictator, or selling Harleys for a living. In this economy, you need every edge that you can get.

1. Peer pressure.

Drafting some thoughts

2009-08-24T10:38:00.000-05:00

Almost everyone agrees that the MLB draft (or Rule 4 draft, as it is known in the rule book) is, as my teammates would put it, like a baseball groupie: far from perfect and not even perfect from afar. More and more people are in fact calling for reform, with a pure slotting system a chief suggestion (see Jonathan Mayo's article here: http://www.mlb.com/news/article.jspymd=20090822&content_id=6562106&vkey=news_mlb&fext=.jsp&c_id=mlb ). If a slotting system does take place, then minor league salaries should be examined as well.

A couple of questions: What is the purpose of the draft? And does it fulfill this purpose?

If the purpose of the draft is to provide equity in the distribution of talent (the Karl Marx model), the draft fails. Year after year, low market teams take into account signability issues before drafting. Instead of taking the best available player, they often take the best signable player. This creates a problem, but only if you believe in equal access to players. If you believe that teams with more resources should have greater access to players (the Adam Smith baseball model), the draft in its current form is acceptable (in this regard). The draft has other problems, but that will be for another day.

Those that believe in greater equity have called for a strict slotting system. This would do much to solve the above-described problem and it would save owners money. But where would this money go? Would it go to owners' pockets? Would it go to boosting MLB salaries? Or would it simply be hidden in an offshore bank account?

The money saved if such a system were implemented should go to minor leaguers. The minor league player has been left behind while the rest of baseball high dives into Scrooge McDuck's vault. With wages hardly increasing in 35 years, many minor league players are struggling as the rest of the game profits from a popularity boom. If money is to be saved on signing bonuses, measures should be taken to ease the burden on the minor league player, many of whom find themselves in vast amounts of debt.

This, of course, will probably never happen, as nobody is there to fight for the starving minor leaguer. The MLBPA will insist that any money saved must go to MLB salaries, and owners will oblige. Or perhaps another boost will be given to 40 man salaries, as was done when the Rule 5 draft changes were made a few years ago. This helped out a whopping 2% of minor leaguers, and only helped out those already on the cusp of making more money than the President.

These are just my thoughts. But nobody will listen to me, because I'm just a poor minor leaguer. After all, I'm not even a prospect anymore, so who cares?

A Life without TV

2007-07-18T21:47:00.000-05:00

From: http://www.sportingnews.com/experts/garrett-broshuis/

Walking through our apartment for the first time, something strange grabs you. At first it won’t be obvious. The kitchen is perfectly normal, complete with dishwasher, microwave oven and empty bottles waiting to be recycled. Upon walking into the living room, though, it unveils itself. You’ll first see a beige sofa facing a wall, and then it hits you. The sofa is facing an empty wall, without a TV.

It’s weird not having a TV in the entire house. It’s so engrained in the American lifestyle that it becomes a part of you. The mindless entertainment is almost needed, even if simply as background noise to placate the wandering mind. Recently, though, I’ve discovered that there is life beyond the TV, just as some of my teammates are still discovering that there is life beyond California.

Some things we’ve discovered as a substitute for TV as our centerpiece of entertainment:

Jigsaw puzzles:
We’re now at 29 puzzles since the start of the season (it looks like we’ll fall short of our goal of 100, unless I start doing more 24 piece Snow White puzzles). As diligent proof, we’ve displayed them on the walls, filling almost three walls in our living room completely. Perhaps soon we will be calling the National Historic Registry, as we are planning on opening the country’s first Museum of Jigsaw Art.

Watching movies:
Okay, so we’re not completely devoid of visual entertainment. We have Blockbuster Total Access, which allows us to watch as many movies as we want. In fact, roommate Geno Espineli bought a DVD projector, which explains why we have one wall un-blemished by puzzles: it’s our projector wall. Use your imagination and it’s almost like going to the theater, only without the big buckets of popcorn.

Reading and writing:
Not everyone’s favorite pastime, but I enjoy it. I know I’m a little nerdy; writing blogs and, of all things, reading (so old fashioned), but it’s rewarding for me. Hopefully all the other readers out there will continue to find it enjoyable as well.

Thinking and talking:
Without the TV, there is more silence. To fill the silent void, you either talk to others or to yourself (hopefully silently). Either way, there’s more room for your thoughts and for conversations. And with the randomness that takes place in this household, not to mention the drama of being on a team, who needs TV.

At first we simply wanted to save money by not having cable and a TV, protesting the rising cost of cable. In the end, though, I’ve come to enjoy the time without it. One doesn’t realize how deeply the attachment runs until this magical box is removed.

Despite this, I still am not completely broken from my TV habit. For instance, I wake up in the morning usually before my roommates. I grab some breakfast, maybe some cereal or some oatmeal, and I sit at the table. While I’m eating, I feel something is missing. I want to be able to reach over for a remote control and turn on a TV. But I’m glad that I can’t. I’m starting to enjoy the resonating silence.

Gone with the old clubby, in with the new

2007-07-14T23:10:00.000-05:00

Recently our clubby bounced on us. This could be for a couple of reasons, but basically he was in over his head and didn’t realize how much work it was going to be. A lot of guys think that it’s going to be a glamorous job hanging around with athletes when in fact it’s a lot of dirty, hard work. It’s not easy at all, and the hours are hectically terrible at times.

Since he’s been gone (isn’t that a Kelly Clarkson song?), things have actually gotten better. This is surprising since the team is still in scramble mode, frenetically trying to replace him. But we actually have a couple of guys doing his job right now. One is Matt, already on the Defender’s payroll, who is a personable, hardworking guy and works well with us. The others are some of Steamer’s friends, one of which has been a big league clubby and knows the ropes. He brought with him a regiment of helpers, who have busily been scrubbing our floors until they are spotless. This comes in stark contrast to the previous state of our floors, which led to a few of us buying cheap pieces of carpet from Walmart simply to seperate our feet from the muck on the floor.

Though the diminutive amount of money will in no way be enough to maintain the employment of the entire army of workers, I’m grateful for the interim change. It’s a whole lot better walking into a clubhouse and inhaling the faint scent of bleach rather than mildew.

our all-star game is fogged out

2007-07-12T10:54:00.000-05:00

Imagine having a homerun derby and not being able to see where the ball landed. In fact, imagine not even being able to see if it was a homerun or not. This was the case at the 2007 Eastern League All-Star game, hosted at Dodd Stadium in Norwich, Connecticut, where I play on a nightly basis.
The stadium is built on a mountaintop. One wouldn’t think it would be subject to fog. On the contrary, fog rolls in as sure as a summer storm, and with the same swiftness.
Being an affiliate of the San Francisco Giants, perhaps this was done with purpose. San Francisco, site of the 2007 MLB All-Star game, has its own problems with fog, but the big league game proceeded without Mother Nature’s intervention. The Eastern League All-Star game wasn’t so lucky.
With a packed house on hand to see the game, no one wanted to halt the action. According to my roommate, Geno Espineli, it was necessary. “Guys were hitting balls and you had no idea where they were landing. In the homerun derby (prior to the game), you couldn’t even see if it was a homerun or not. Even the fielders couldn’t see them,” stated Espineli, a participant in the game.
With the disappearing ball trick so prominent, the action was called during the third inning after outfielder John Bowker was almost hit with a fly ball. This came as a disappointment to Espineli. Espineli was on the mound to relieve Kevin Mulvey, but the game was called before he was able to throw his first pitch.
“It would’ve been my first All-Star game since high school,” said Espineli.
Disappointing for Espineli, and the fans, to be sure, but we all still recognize him as an all-star.

In light of the fog-out, I attempted to do a little research on fog and baseball. I came up with surprisingly little, but here are some of baseball’s foggiest moments, not all explicitly dealing with fog:

-June 6, 1957- Game between the Brooklyn Dodgers and Chicago Cubs becomes the first MLB fog-out.

-May 20, 1960- Game in Milwaukee postponed due to fog

2006- Giants’ catcher Mike Matheny spends most of the year on the DL due to a different type of fog, this being a cognitive fog resulting from a series of concussions. The injury brings awareness to the repeated impact of foul balls violently ricocheting off a catcher’s mask, and the cumulative damage they can cause. Matheny has since retired and every player in the Giant’s organization is required to take a battery of cognitive testing as a result.

2004- Bill James publishes his “Underestimating the fog” article, in which he re-thinks some of his more radical positions on things such as clutch hitting. While not stating that clutch hitting actually exist, he states that current quantitative tools may simply not allow one to accurately perceive it.

There apparently are not a lot of true foggy moments in baseball lore. If someone comes across something, feel free to send it my way. In the meantime, the Defenders will be back out at Dodd Stadium tonight, trying to play in the fog.

minor league all-star break

2007-07-11T22:24:00.000-05:00

Soon to be posted on http://www.sportingnews.com/experts/garrett-broshuis

Just like in the big leagues, we minor leaguers also have an all-star break. While lacking the pomp and pageantry, not to mention the international media coverage trying to ascertain the meaning behind every word uttered by every player regardless of language, our break is no less important to us, whether we make the team or not.
This year’s break got off to a little bit of a slow start for our team. Coming home from Binghamton on Monday, we were expected to arrive home at a decent hour due to the fact that we played a day game. This was until the bus had a flat tire about thirty minutes into the trip. In addition, in an apparently unrelated incident, the bus’s air conditioning died as well. Though sabotage was suspected by many players, no proof was ever found (another yet to be filmed Unsolved Mystery).
Needless to say, the team wasn’t too happy to be sitting alongside the road, looking for snails and watching cars go bye for nearly two hours. Not the ideal way to start the all-star break, especially since the Eastern League only allows for a two day break instead of the customary three or four days afforded by most leagues. Like school off-days, perhaps we had too many snow-outs early in the year.
Finally, though, we arrived at our home destination, and the all-star festivities began, whether baseball was involved or not. Some of the favorite things that I’ve done over my all-star breaks:

2005 Trip to Yosemite- During the ample four day break the California League allowed, we made the trip from San Jose to Yosemite. Thankfully my Ford Focus rental car navigated the mountainous terrains better than expected, and I saw some of the most beautiful waterfalls and rock formations in the world, not to mention the Sequoia.

2007 Trip to Cooperstown- While not actually part of the all-star break, my parents met our team in Binghamton this year for the last few games before the all-star break. After a Sunday day game, we made the one hour and change trip to Cooperstown. Seeing all the memorabilia, I had the euphoric feeling of a kid in Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. Luckily I didn’t eat anything that made me purple.

Beaches and fishing- This is what summer is all about. If I have a couple days off, I better be doing some fishing, and some laying around. Connecticut has more places to fish than the moon has craters (does the moon really have that many craters?), and beaches aren’t too far away either.

My parents have made an annual tradition of visiting me over the break, as team rules dictate that I’m not allowed to leave the general area of our home team. My two younger sisters have also made the trip, which means that I get to play the role of big brother for a few days, an authoritarian role I dearly miss.
It’s great to spend some time with family, and great to get my mind and body away from the game as well. When you play every day, a mental and physical break is necessary at times. Doing some touristy things with family, and maybe some fishing, provides a great diversion.
I would love to play in an all-star game but in its place I think I’ve filled the void. Granting me the opportunity to spend some quality time with family, an all too rare occasion for minor league players, an all-star break without the all-star game is no less enriching.

battling lady luck

2007-07-09T21:06:00.000-05:00

7/07/07 was supposed to be a lucky day. It wasn’t for me.
I pitched on the day of lucky sevens. People were being married in record numbers on this day, and even scheduling caesarian sections for the birth of their children. Everyone was trying to cash in on this lucky day. This was perhaps the problem. Not only was it supposed to be a lucky day for me, but it was supposed to be a lucky day for everyone, including my opponents. I guess it cancelled my luck.
It actually wasn’t completely bad. I gave up five runs in five innings and garnered a no decision. But it could’ve been better, as all five runs were scored in one inning. This inning involved a couple of unlucky plays for me which if the coin had flipped the other way, would’ve limited the team to perhaps 1 or even no runs during the inning. Some seemingly innocuous balls found holes, which inevitably happens throughout a game. They just aren't all supposed to come in one inning.
For this reason, lady luck and I have not been on good terms for the past few days. As a baseball player, I'm compelled to attempt pacification of this mythical figure, but after my less than rewarding outing, I wasn't too happy with her. Despite this, my luck would soon change.
Upon conclusion of our road trip today, I rode with my parents, who had come for their only visit of the season, back to Connecticut. Normally this isn’t allowed, but since it was the beginning of the all-star break and my parents would only be out a few more days, my manager gave me a pass.
About two hours into our trip, my roommate, Ryan Sadowski calls me. The bus has blown a tire, and the air conditioning has broken, in apparently unrelated events. All of my teammates are sitting on the side of the road, watching cars go bye. Either waiting for another bus or for repairs to our usual bus, the situation could persist for hours.
I’m now passing into the state of Connecticut, nearing our destination. My teammates are still sitting on the side of the road like a discarded apple core, trying to thumb a ride. I guess lady luck and I are now even.

Benefits for life

2007-07-07T23:45:00.000-05:00

Michael McCann had a great post from http://sports-law.blogspot.com/ today:
"Earlier today, the Boston Red Sox purchased the contract of first baseman Jeff Bailey, a 28-year-old who, until now, had been a career minor leaguer. He began his professional baseball career in 1997, after being selected in the second round of the 1997 baseball draft by the Florida Marlins. He's bounced around since then, producing relatively modest statistics until last season, when he hit 22 home runs and drove in 75 RBIs for the Triple A Pawtucket Red Sox.Bailey will start at first base tonight when the Red Sox take on the Detroit Tigers. I know what you might be thinking: "Why am I reading about this seemingly obscure player, who is involved in a seemingly uninteresting chain of events?"Here's why: by virtue of being on a big league roster for a mere one day, Bailey will enjoy complete medical benefits for the rest of his life, pursuant to Major League Baseball's collective bargaining agreement. Call it the Moonlight Graham provision, if you will. Even better, if Bailey can stay on the active roster for 43 days, he'll also get a pension. Bailey can thank Marvin Miller and Donald Fehr for fighting for guys like him--the 25th man on the roster, "cup of coffee" types--as opposed to simply focusing on the interests of the game's stars or established players.So aside from the thrill of making it to "The Show" and earning a big league pay check, veteran minor leaguers like Jeff Bailey have a pretty strong incentive to keep playing if they believe they have a chance at cracking a big league roster. A lifetime of guaranteed health care is quite a pay off indeed. "
-- Posted by Michael McCann @ 7/06/2007 04:06:00 PM -- Comments (1) -- Post a Comment

Pitching and charting

2007-07-07T11:11:00.000-05:00

From http://www.sportingnews.com/experts/garrett-broshuis/

Being a starting pitcher, I only actually perform my true job once every 5 days. But during these other games, I’m not sitting around languidly working on my juggling. I’m still put to work--I have to earn my paycheck somehow. With a chart in my hand, I’m forced to leave the dugout, my baseball homeland, and flee to the menacing land of hecklers and munchkins: the stands.

Usually I’m confused for a scout. This really should come as no surprise. If you saw me in the stands, you’d probably think I was a scout also. After all, if he looks like a scout, talks like a scout and acts like a scout, he must be a scout. We may be a little younger than most scouts, but we’re wielding the same radar guns, packing the same heat.

This isn’t a big deal, and it shouldn’t really bother me. I have a tremendous amount of respect for scouts and the work that they do. But once in a while, perhaps when my wicked friend Narcissus comes around, I tire of people asking me if I’m a scout. This is only rarely, though, as other times I actually prefer to be incognito.

Despite our disguises while in the stands, people inevitably recognize us. Probably about once a game, an autograph-seeker will approach us and ask us to sign a card or a ball. We’re happy to oblige, and it comes as a surprise to the casual baseball fan sitting next to us who had no clue that he was sitting next to a player. Now he’s wondering what in the heck a player would be doing sitting next to him. Shouldn’t he be on the field where he belongs? Confused, the fan maybe even starts looking around, trying to find other players secretly embedded in his surroundings as if it’s a Where’s Waldo type of promotion.

We meet some interesting people while in the stands. In our home park in Norwich, the head of all minor league baseball often comes. A retiree named Harold—affectionately nicknamed the Goose by teammate Nick Pereira—comes to almost every game, and he claims that not a single move is made in baseball without first consulting him. When the Goose is around, there’s never a dull moment. Too bad our charting usually suffers.

Some may be wondering why we have to do charts. A reader recently asked me exactly this via e-mail. As he said, “Why not let the starting pitchers just go home after they do their throwing? Unless things have changed from back in the day, non-pitcher managers still think that most starting pitchers are doofuses anyway so they aren't going to put them in as pinch runners or as pinch hitters and they certainly aren't going to ask pitchers for in-game strategy advice.”

I don’t really like to think of myself as a doofus, but this may in fact be the way that my manager views me (I’ll have to ask him). Part of the answer to this question is that we’d probably be goofing around too much during the games (see exhibit A: our relief pitcher cousins, who act as infantile gorillas at times during games) and forget that a game is even going on if we didn’t have anything to do. By doing a chart, we’re forced to pay more attention to the game, and can in this way get a read on hitters and their tendencies. Also, the team needs stats, and in the minor leagues, stat keepers aren’t hired; the starting pitchers become the stat keepers. We don’t like doing it, but it’s a necessary part of our job.

We are therefore asked to do a variety of charts, which differ from team to team. Our team, for example, requires us to do a chart which counts the number of pitches our hitters see, a radar gun chart, a pitcher’s game chart, and a hitter’s chart. Four charts for the four days in between starts, rotating among pitchers on each day. Two of the days are spent in the stands; two of the days are spent in the dugout. This rotation is pretty standard.

Next time you come to a minor league ballgame and see scouts in the stands, look closely. If there are younger guys amongst them, they’re probably players. And if your team is playing the Connecticut Defenders, I might be sitting nearby. If so, feel free to say hi.

Why do I hate fireworks?

2007-07-05T21:49:00.000-05:00

There was a time when I loved fireworks. This time has passed.

Fourth of July, our nation's day of independence, is synonymous with fireworks. As a kid, I remember gathering at my grandmother's house, eating a lot of food, and then shooting off some fireworks. I loved the sparklers, the smoke bombs and the screaming bottle rockets--anything that made noise I loved.

Minor league baseball, though, has made me hate fireworks. Like a lot of things, this wasn't a sudden but a gradual change, culminating in the events of last night.

One of my first days in pro. ball in Spokane, Wa. there were fireworks after the game, and I remembered thinking that, "Wow, this is kind of cool." Later I realized that I would be hearing fireworks (or fuegos artificiales for the latinos) almost every week. They'll shoot off fireworks for any reason possible in the minor leagues--the mayor's nephew's bar mitzvah, the town's semi-birthday party, or the birth of a new cow. The "this is kind of cool" feeling was replaced by the "this is really annoying" feeling.

For the past two years, the only special thing about fireworks is that we get more fans attending our games. This in itself is kind of annoying because it signifies that people would rather come to see fireworks than actually see us play. It also means that there's more post-game traffic, which means I have to inhale my food, sprint out the door, and battle the superfans before the fireworks end.

Last night, though, was the tipping point. After an already incredibly long day consisting of a six hour bus ride and two hours of rain delays, fireworks started going off in the middle of the game. About five feet behind us.

Sadowski is starting an inning for us, and it sounds like we're caught in the middle of a Civil War re-enactment. I thought perhaps that there was rain at nearby Gettysburg, and so they moved the battlefield to Harrisburg. Then I remembered that it was the 4th of July and the entire city of Harrisburg had gathered on the other side of the river in order to see the fireworks being shot on the famous City Island, which just so happens to be the site of the Senator's stadium.

My seat was shaking with each explosion. I could barely write with my pen so forceful and deafening was each detonation. And Ryan was supposed to pitch through this?

This went on for more than twenty minutes in the middle of the game. For this reason, fireworks are no longer just an inconvenient annoyance. I now hate fireworks.