Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Phillies Fan in Pittsburgh
I got the opportunity to go to all three games of the Phillies-Pirates series in Pittsburgh last weekend, and I wrote a fan report for The 700 Level. You can check it out here.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Mike Lieberthal: Phillies Anchor
Former Phillies catcher Mike Lieberthal officially retired from baseball today. Without much fanfare, as one would expect for a 36-year-old backup catcher, but also as one would expect from a guy like Lieby.
During his 13 seasons in Philadelphia, Lieby didn’t really make waves. He wasn’t worshipped by the fans, but he wasn’t scorned by them either. He was a mild-mannered guy of average build who did not have good dancing skills, but who played solid baseball and anchored the Phillies squads through plenty of ups and downs and personnel changes.
Once Darren Daulton’s body was too worn down to catch, and the Benito Santiago plan was scrapped, Lieby was there behind the plate, day in and day out, at least when injuries didn’t get in the way.
He was not a spectacular hitter, but he was an important contributor—a number five or six in the lineup type of guy. Lieby’s best season was 1999, when he hit 31 home runs, had 96 runs batted in, and maintained a .300 batting average. He also had a fielding percentage of .997, won the Gold Glove, and was named to the All-Star team.
Defensively, he was a strong backstop, and he handled the pitching staff deftly. Think of all the terrible pitchers the Phillies had over the years. Poor Lieby had to deal with all of them. For every Curt Schilling or Brett Myers that he caught, there were dozens of Toby Borlands and Matt Beeches.
I personally enjoyed Lieby’s old school approach to his equipment. Even when it became trendy for catchers to resemble hockey goalies, Lieby never wavered from the backwards batting helmet—sans earflaps—and classic catcher’s mask.
When the Phillies decided to let Lieberthal go after the 2006 season, I felt strangely adrift. Lieby had been with the franchise for as long as I had been following the team. A Phillies roster without Mike Lieberthal just seemed odd to me.
After the Phillies made the playoffs in 2007, though, Lieberthal as Phillies anchor took on a new meaning. He was drafted by the organization in 1990 and made his debut in 1994, the year after the team’s miraculous trip to the World Series. While Lieby was on the roster, the team never made it to the postseason. In 2007, with him wearing Dodger blue, the Phillies won the N.L. East. It makes you wonder.
Yet in a way, it is also fitting that Lieberthal’s tenure spanned the period of the Phillies’ playoff drought. His career is symbolic of the team’s essence during that time. There were flashes of greatness, but not enough sustained brilliance to join the elite. There were low times, when poor play and injuries made the seasons forgettable. Not good enough to get over the hump, but showing enough potential to encourage hope.
During his 13 seasons in Philadelphia, Lieby didn’t really make waves. He wasn’t worshipped by the fans, but he wasn’t scorned by them either. He was a mild-mannered guy of average build who did not have good dancing skills, but who played solid baseball and anchored the Phillies squads through plenty of ups and downs and personnel changes.
Once Darren Daulton’s body was too worn down to catch, and the Benito Santiago plan was scrapped, Lieby was there behind the plate, day in and day out, at least when injuries didn’t get in the way.
He was not a spectacular hitter, but he was an important contributor—a number five or six in the lineup type of guy. Lieby’s best season was 1999, when he hit 31 home runs, had 96 runs batted in, and maintained a .300 batting average. He also had a fielding percentage of .997, won the Gold Glove, and was named to the All-Star team.
Defensively, he was a strong backstop, and he handled the pitching staff deftly. Think of all the terrible pitchers the Phillies had over the years. Poor Lieby had to deal with all of them. For every Curt Schilling or Brett Myers that he caught, there were dozens of Toby Borlands and Matt Beeches.
I personally enjoyed Lieby’s old school approach to his equipment. Even when it became trendy for catchers to resemble hockey goalies, Lieby never wavered from the backwards batting helmet—sans earflaps—and classic catcher’s mask.
When the Phillies decided to let Lieberthal go after the 2006 season, I felt strangely adrift. Lieby had been with the franchise for as long as I had been following the team. A Phillies roster without Mike Lieberthal just seemed odd to me.
After the Phillies made the playoffs in 2007, though, Lieberthal as Phillies anchor took on a new meaning. He was drafted by the organization in 1990 and made his debut in 1994, the year after the team’s miraculous trip to the World Series. While Lieby was on the roster, the team never made it to the postseason. In 2007, with him wearing Dodger blue, the Phillies won the N.L. East. It makes you wonder.
Yet in a way, it is also fitting that Lieberthal’s tenure spanned the period of the Phillies’ playoff drought. His career is symbolic of the team’s essence during that time. There were flashes of greatness, but not enough sustained brilliance to join the elite. There were low times, when poor play and injuries made the seasons forgettable. Not good enough to get over the hump, but showing enough potential to encourage hope.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Yes, We're Still Here...
...but in a super-extended holiday hiatus.
I'm doing some retooling of the concept and talking to some folks who might be interested in helping me out since I have less time to tend to the blog at the moment. I would definitely have something to say about Geoff Jenkins, Chad (aka "The Wrong") Durbin, Ryan Howard's salary demands, etc. if I didn't feel like it would just be tossed off and researched below the already frighteningly low threshold I've been using.
Expect the flames to be rekindled around spring training--and don't be surprised if some things appear quite different.
I'm doing some retooling of the concept and talking to some folks who might be interested in helping me out since I have less time to tend to the blog at the moment. I would definitely have something to say about Geoff Jenkins, Chad (aka "The Wrong") Durbin, Ryan Howard's salary demands, etc. if I didn't feel like it would just be tossed off and researched below the already frighteningly low threshold I've been using.
Expect the flames to be rekindled around spring training--and don't be surprised if some things appear quite different.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Know Your Enemy: Houston Astros
A sage Danny Ozark once said, "Half this game is ninety percent mental." To keep your competitive fire in the offseason, you've got to continuously measure yourself against your opponents. You've got to prepare yourself psychologically for another season full of animosity for people you've never met. You've got to Know Your Enemy.
I honestly thought that we could close the book on Ed Wade as a major league general manager after that public arm of the mysterious Phillies ownership, Bill Giles, at the end of the 2005 season. Any of the good mojo he earned trading Kevin Stocker for Bobby Abreu at the beginning of his tenure was reversed tenfold by the end. Simply uttering the words "David Bell" turns even the hardest Philadelphian into a sobbing, quivering mass of flesh (unsubstantiated rumors fly about the phrase "Curt Schilling traded for Vicente Padilla" being responsible for a stroke in Norristown). Wade just seemed like a nice guy who was in way over his head.
Fast forwarding to 2007, the Houston Astros fire the manager and GM of a sluggish team struggling to replicate the success of a pennant run two years earlier, when they dispatched Wade's Phillies to earn the Wild Card. Who better to oversee personnel than the guy who watched a team that was 15 games under .500 in the middle of 2005 sneak past him and into the playoffs? To be fair, he really thought Matt Kata was going to put the Phils over the top. And according to the Astros, Drop Dead Ed actually beat out a whopping ten other candidates for the GM job. Ten! Who were they? The cast of The Real World: Sydney and three of Larry King's ex-wives?
But before this turns into another Ed Wade bash-a-thon, let's take a look at some Astros history and their current roster. Houston's franchise arc was very similar to Philadelphia's until the 1990s, when they became the NL Central's answer to the Atlanta Braves--a bunch of playoff appearances with little to show for it. Besting the Phillies for the WC in both 2004 and 2005 (on the last day of the season!), there was a chance that the Astros could have started a mini-rivalry, forever splitting the loyalties of Mark Portugal.
The 'Stros actually had been owning the Phils for several years since the two teams clashed in the first series atEnron Field Astros Field Minute Maid Park; whatever juice this matchup still has is probably carried over from the 1980 NLCS, one of the greatest playoff series of the past 30 years. One might expect a preponderance of Phillie Killers on their roster, but except for new addition Kaz Matsui that doesn't seem to be the case (betcha the Rockies are happy about the return of another GM who doesn't understand the Coors Effect). What you do have are a bunch of guys that are supposed to be dynamite against everybody--Oswalt, Berkman, Carlos Lee, and the recently-acquired Miguel Tejada. And while Houston has a potentially scary lineup once you plug in Hunter Pence and super-scrapper Mark Loretta, it's easy to see that this team isn't getting any younger.
Repetitive as it sounds, it all comes back to Wade, who within a matter of months completely decimated the depth in his outfield and bullpen (scroll to the bottom) for an aging SS named in the Mitchell Report, a decent but overhyped closer (aren't they all?), and some spare parts from his old Phillies teams. The Tejada trade actually reminds me a lot of the Jim Thome signing: a fairly questionable move from a baseball standpoint considering age and durability, but a move designed to galvanize the fanbase and get more A.I.S. (Asses in Seats).
The situation beneath the surface is so dire that, according to Wikipedia, the Astros have invited faces such as Jose Cruz Jr. and--I hope you're sitting down--Tomas Effin' Perez to spring training in 2008. If I had my way, the nation would be pulling harder for Tomas than it was for Sanjaya.
Threat Level: Low. If a couple of bumps in foul territory at Wrigley could make both of Michael Bourn's ankles buckle, what happens when he hits that stupid hill in centerfield?
Ok, one last joke: Woody Williams!
Fast forwarding to 2007, the Houston Astros fire the manager and GM of a sluggish team struggling to replicate the success of a pennant run two years earlier, when they dispatched Wade's Phillies to earn the Wild Card. Who better to oversee personnel than the guy who watched a team that was 15 games under .500 in the middle of 2005 sneak past him and into the playoffs? To be fair, he really thought Matt Kata was going to put the Phils over the top. And according to the Astros, Drop Dead Ed actually beat out a whopping ten other candidates for the GM job. Ten! Who were they? The cast of The Real World: Sydney and three of Larry King's ex-wives?
But before this turns into another Ed Wade bash-a-thon, let's take a look at some Astros history and their current roster. Houston's franchise arc was very similar to Philadelphia's until the 1990s, when they became the NL Central's answer to the Atlanta Braves--a bunch of playoff appearances with little to show for it. Besting the Phillies for the WC in both 2004 and 2005 (on the last day of the season!), there was a chance that the Astros could have started a mini-rivalry, forever splitting the loyalties of Mark Portugal.
The 'Stros actually had been owning the Phils for several years since the two teams clashed in the first series at
Repetitive as it sounds, it all comes back to Wade, who within a matter of months completely decimated the depth in his outfield and bullpen (scroll to the bottom) for an aging SS named in the Mitchell Report, a decent but overhyped closer (aren't they all?), and some spare parts from his old Phillies teams. The Tejada trade actually reminds me a lot of the Jim Thome signing: a fairly questionable move from a baseball standpoint considering age and durability, but a move designed to galvanize the fanbase and get more A.I.S. (Asses in Seats).
The situation beneath the surface is so dire that, according to Wikipedia, the Astros have invited faces such as Jose Cruz Jr. and--I hope you're sitting down--Tomas Effin' Perez to spring training in 2008. If I had my way, the nation would be pulling harder for Tomas than it was for Sanjaya.
Threat Level: Low. If a couple of bumps in foul territory at Wrigley could make both of Michael Bourn's ankles buckle, what happens when he hits that stupid hill in centerfield?
Ok, one last joke: Woody Williams!
Friday, December 14, 2007
Philling In: All Your Mascot Names Sucked Anyway
Further dispatches from the continuing saga of the Lehigh Valley IronPigs mascot: from a pool of what was surely dozens of entries, IronPigs management selected 'PorkChop' as the winner and formally christened the big gray suit earlier this month. Yet another OneWord, but it's harmless and cute enough, right?
Turns out that 'Pork Chop' is kinda sorta racist to the Hispanic community. Or the Portuguese community. Or whoever. A couple weeks later, I'm still a little confused. The IronPigs reacted swiftly, re-naming the mascot 'Ferrous' (making a local-TV commercial parody of Ferris Bueller's Day Off inevitable). And while it's not clear that the new name was also entered into the original name contest, I find the official reaction captured in the latest issue of Sports Illustrated quite illuminating:
Yeah, screw you, winning fan! Go IronPigs!
- On the same page of the aformentioned SI, there's a great feature that asks all major league GMs to provide a "one-word assessment" of their clubs after the winter meetings. Gillick's response is "Close," which is more perfect than he knows. It's probably one of the best responses next to the A's Billy Beane ("Healing") and the Braves' Frank Wren ("Recharging"). The dunce cap is split between the Royals' Dayton Moore ("Futuristic") and the Astros' Wacky Ed Wade ("Solidifying").
- Speaking of Ed Wade, he proved he's still got it by trading for an aging Miguel Tejada days before he was outed for buying steroids in the Mitchell Report. Enjoy your new GM, Astros fans.
- And speaking of the Mitchell Report (transitions are dynamite today), the fallout for the Phillies is rather inconsequential. Like most of the guys named in the report, the former Phils that bought the juice/cow hormones either weren't that good to begin with (Gary Bennett), were already under suspicion (Lenny Dykstra), or had already been exposed (David Bell). How much did this cost MLB again?
Turns out that 'Pork Chop' is kinda sorta racist to the Hispanic community. Or the Portuguese community. Or whoever. A couple weeks later, I'm still a little confused. The IronPigs reacted swiftly, re-naming the mascot 'Ferrous' (making a local-TV commercial parody of Ferris Bueller's Day Off inevitable). And while it's not clear that the new name was also entered into the original name contest, I find the official reaction captured in the latest issue of Sports Illustrated quite illuminating:
"The name PorkChop was not much better than the other names submitted," spokesman Matt Provence says. "To 'cave,' you need to give up something. We didn't really give up anything."
Yeah, screw you, winning fan! Go IronPigs!
- On the same page of the aformentioned SI, there's a great feature that asks all major league GMs to provide a "one-word assessment" of their clubs after the winter meetings. Gillick's response is "Close," which is more perfect than he knows. It's probably one of the best responses next to the A's Billy Beane ("Healing") and the Braves' Frank Wren ("Recharging"). The dunce cap is split between the Royals' Dayton Moore ("Futuristic") and the Astros' Wacky Ed Wade ("Solidifying").
- Speaking of Ed Wade, he proved he's still got it by trading for an aging Miguel Tejada days before he was outed for buying steroids in the Mitchell Report. Enjoy your new GM, Astros fans.
- And speaking of the Mitchell Report (transitions are dynamite today), the fallout for the Phillies is rather inconsequential. Like most of the guys named in the report, the former Phils that bought the juice/cow hormones either weren't that good to begin with (Gary Bennett), were already under suspicion (Lenny Dykstra), or had already been exposed (David Bell). How much did this cost MLB again?
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Know Your Enemy: San Diego Padres
A sage Danny Ozark once said, "Half this game is ninety percent mental." To keep your competitive fire in the offseason, you've got to continuously measure yourself against your opponents. You've got to prepare yourself psychologically for another season full of animosity for people you've never met. You've got to Know Your Enemy.
What is it with the NL West these days? Arguably once the most likable division in baseball, it's transformed into a bona fide hate-fest for Phillies fans. And while I could easily summon my vitriol for the Dodgers and the Rockies, another club that I genuinely liked has started acting like Andrew McCarthy's asshat character in Pretty in Pink: the San Diego Padres.
First they stole Randy Wolf for the same money and incentives package he likely would have received from the Phillies (who, I should reiterate, never gave up on Wolf as his arm problems surfaced and certainly didn't take to calling him a "risk").
Then, with rumors that Tad Iguchi was re-considering the Phils' request that he switch to third base, the Pads came out of nowhere and snapped him up to start at second. Tad's "No. 1 desire was to play in San Diego"? Bitch, please. The man's No. 1 desire was a vacant 45-foot stretch of dirt between first and second base. That I can understand. I just thought he'd be playing in Colorado or something. I knew Marcus Giles had a rough year, but man, Kevin Towers is one slippery robber baron.
Just like Duckie, it's the Phillies that were the caring, colorful, and loyal-to-a-fault option for Wolf and Iguchi. But there's a reason Duckie doesn't get the girl--he's far too familiar. Phillies fans want to feel as close as possible to their players, blurring the line between passion and obsession. Padres fans, I feel, are typical San Diegans: a generally conservative, laid-back lot that take pride in their pretty scenery and their relative freedom from the burdens of history (athletic and otherwise). The Phils have a "past." The Pads, not so much.
Threat Level: Moderate to high. San Diego definietly has the pitching for another run at a playoff berth, but there's plenty of room for improvement in the lineup. Their outfield is especially...what? Jason Bay? Leave Pennsylvania alone, dammit!
What is it with the NL West these days? Arguably once the most likable division in baseball, it's transformed into a bona fide hate-fest for Phillies fans. And while I could easily summon my vitriol for the Dodgers and the Rockies, another club that I genuinely liked has started acting like Andrew McCarthy's asshat character in Pretty in Pink: the San Diego Padres.First they stole Randy Wolf for the same money and incentives package he likely would have received from the Phillies (who, I should reiterate, never gave up on Wolf as his arm problems surfaced and certainly didn't take to calling him a "risk").
Then, with rumors that Tad Iguchi was re-considering the Phils' request that he switch to third base, the Pads came out of nowhere and snapped him up to start at second. Tad's "No. 1 desire was to play in San Diego"? Bitch, please. The man's No. 1 desire was a vacant 45-foot stretch of dirt between first and second base. That I can understand. I just thought he'd be playing in Colorado or something. I knew Marcus Giles had a rough year, but man, Kevin Towers is one slippery robber baron.
Just like Duckie, it's the Phillies that were the caring, colorful, and loyal-to-a-fault option for Wolf and Iguchi. But there's a reason Duckie doesn't get the girl--he's far too familiar. Phillies fans want to feel as close as possible to their players, blurring the line between passion and obsession. Padres fans, I feel, are typical San Diegans: a generally conservative, laid-back lot that take pride in their pretty scenery and their relative freedom from the burdens of history (athletic and otherwise). The Phils have a "past." The Pads, not so much.
Threat Level: Moderate to high. San Diego definietly has the pitching for another run at a playoff berth, but there's plenty of room for improvement in the lineup. Their outfield is especially...what? Jason Bay? Leave Pennsylvania alone, dammit!
Monday, December 3, 2007
Randy Come Home: A Post Break-Up Letter to Randy Wolf
Dear Randy,
There's only one question on my mind.
Why?
Why did you go and sign a one-year, $9 million contract with the Padres on Saturday? Why did I have to find this out two days later from ESPN? Did you know I would be distracted on the weekend, with football and basketball season in full swing? Did you think I just wouldn't find out until it was too late for me to get really upset? It wasn't even mentioned on any Phillies website or blog, Randy. It was as if those 8 seasons you spent in Philadelphia didn't even exist.
I was fine with your brief flirtation with the Dodgers last year. After all, it was only a one-year contract. And after respecting your wishes to go off and "find yourself" or whatever it is that left-handed pitchers do, Phillies management showered you with attention once you came back on the market. But is running to San Diego the way to treat the franchise that drafted and discovered you, that stuck with you through Tommy John surgery and forgave you for leaving the first time?
Is it our ballpark, Randy? Sure, you got a few more grounders in LA but the numbers were pretty much the same when you were healthy at CBP. Moving to the Padres' cow pasture makes you look kinda shallow, if I'm being honest. And if you thought the Dodgers had offensive problems, wait until you see the run support you'll get from the Giles brothers, et al.
Look, I know things haven't gone perfectly. Philadelphia is a demanding place for a professional athlete, especially for one who grew up in touchy-feely SoCal. There's no excuse for why you were never an Opening Day starter, not when some of the alternatives were Kevin Millwood, Robert Person, and (good Lord) Omar Daal.
If you're worried about your career, I'd like to introduce you to Jamie Moyer. He's a lefty that's never really tried to overpower hitters much. He knows he'll playing in a bandbox, but he's smart enough to utilize his defensive support and capitalize on the hubris of sluggers. He's funny, articulate, and a good example for the rest of the team. Sound like any free agent youknow knew? (Hint: it's not Mark Redman)
Finally, I challenge you to name one thing in Canoga Park--besides your family--that you can't find in Chester County. On the other hand, Randy, I know something you won't find anywhere but in Philadelphia. No way you could get this in California--not in the vomit-soaked all-you-can-eat bleachers in Dodger Stadium, definitely not in a place where even Bill Walton and Milton Bradley couldn't alienate the fans into fits of delirium for maddening but talented athletes. I just hope you haven't forgotten:
Sincerely,
Eric Ambler
There's only one question on my mind.
Why?
Why did you go and sign a one-year, $9 million contract with the Padres on Saturday? Why did I have to find this out two days later from ESPN? Did you know I would be distracted on the weekend, with football and basketball season in full swing? Did you think I just wouldn't find out until it was too late for me to get really upset? It wasn't even mentioned on any Phillies website or blog, Randy. It was as if those 8 seasons you spent in Philadelphia didn't even exist.
I was fine with your brief flirtation with the Dodgers last year. After all, it was only a one-year contract. And after respecting your wishes to go off and "find yourself" or whatever it is that left-handed pitchers do, Phillies management showered you with attention once you came back on the market. But is running to San Diego the way to treat the franchise that drafted and discovered you, that stuck with you through Tommy John surgery and forgave you for leaving the first time?
Is it our ballpark, Randy? Sure, you got a few more grounders in LA but the numbers were pretty much the same when you were healthy at CBP. Moving to the Padres' cow pasture makes you look kinda shallow, if I'm being honest. And if you thought the Dodgers had offensive problems, wait until you see the run support you'll get from the Giles brothers, et al.
Look, I know things haven't gone perfectly. Philadelphia is a demanding place for a professional athlete, especially for one who grew up in touchy-feely SoCal. There's no excuse for why you were never an Opening Day starter, not when some of the alternatives were Kevin Millwood, Robert Person, and (good Lord) Omar Daal.
If you're worried about your career, I'd like to introduce you to Jamie Moyer. He's a lefty that's never really tried to overpower hitters much. He knows he'll playing in a bandbox, but he's smart enough to utilize his defensive support and capitalize on the hubris of sluggers. He's funny, articulate, and a good example for the rest of the team. Sound like any free agent you
Finally, I challenge you to name one thing in Canoga Park--besides your family--that you can't find in Chester County. On the other hand, Randy, I know something you won't find anywhere but in Philadelphia. No way you could get this in California--not in the vomit-soaked all-you-can-eat bleachers in Dodger Stadium, definitely not in a place where even Bill Walton and Milton Bradley couldn't alienate the fans into fits of delirium for maddening but talented athletes. I just hope you haven't forgotten:
Sincerely,
Eric Ambler
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