When a Million Eyes Are Smiling

It was announced the other day that the games that constitute the 2012 Indian Premier League (IPL), a competition lasting six weeks and using the shortest form of the game of cricket, Twenty20, have been watched by more than a million people—and we’re only just over half way through the tournament. Now, when I (Martin) say “watched,” I’m talking about actual bums on seats at the grounds, and not the tens (perhaps hundreds) of millions of people around the world who are enjoying the games on TV or (like me) over the Internet. And when I say “bums on seats,” I mean mostly standing in nail-bitten excitement or jumping around in an ecstatic frenzy.

I was skeptical and not a little snobbish about the IPL: its rampant consumerism, its hype and brashness, and the money. It seemed to me, to use a timeworn phrase, not cricket. But for sheer entertainment value, the IPL is hard to beat. This year, a record number of games have been won off the last ball of the match; some astonishing batting has turned almost certain defeats to improbable victories; and Rahul Dravid, that most unlikely of barnstormers, has been reborn as a dasher. Yes, it’s sometimes not pretty; it’s awash with crassness and glitz; but the sheer vitality and energy the games possess (a feature of the sell-out crowds that turn up to watch each game) can’t be denied. You can get a feel of a typical game by going here.

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Weird Game

Some magic in the air for the Bal’more Orioles

The Baltimore Orioles bested the Boston Red Sox today in Fenway Park. How weird was this game? It took more than six hours to complete. Orioles designated hitter Chris Davis went 0 for 8. Then, he was summoned to pitch! By strangling the Red Sox over two innings, the DH became the winning pitcher, which must be a first. Bobby Valentine even had to throw his own position player (Darnell McDonald) on to the mound. This was the only time since 1925 anything like this had happened: Ty Cobb versus fellow-great George Sisler. The even weirder aspect of all this is personal: I (Evander) had recently and by chance been looking up Babe Ruth’s pitching record, both with the Red Sox and with the Yankees, for whom Ruth won five games (one in a relief role). I had to wonder what the Yanks could have been thinking by putting Ruth on the hill. For a hoot, I then located Ty Cobb’s pitching record, which I had known nothing about. Believing such was a bigger stunt engineered by Cobb, as player-manager, to steal Ruth’s thunder, I learn, in fact, the game in question that Cobb pitched was the second half of a doubleheader when the roster must have been depleted. The Orioles and Red Sox, at least time-wise, played their own double-dip this afternoon. Orioles manager Buck Showalter may no longer be Mr. Bad-sad-tough Luck after all. He even won his one-thousandth game just a week ago against the Yankees.

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Mariano

Actors and athletes, “endings” and endings….

In 1996, the New York Yankees were the first team, and possibly the only team in major-league history, to have two roster players named Mariano: Duncan and Rivera. The latter, the famous one, injured himself during outfield practice at one of the most beautiful stadiums in Major League Baseball: in Kansas City.

If this is the end, Rivera takes his place with Rollie Fingers, Dennis Eckersley, and Hoyt Wilhelm as the greatest relief pitchers ever. In fact, no one is close to “closer” Rivera. (Cricket fans: The Closer is an ultra-specialized pitcher, who is summoned to get the final three or four, or rarely five, outs in a close game. The role evolved roughly from the late-1970s. We talk about this in Right Off the Bat, page 140 of the print edition.)

If this is the end for Rivera, a superb athlete in his early forties, his uniform number, by chance Jackie Robinson’s retired-throughout-baseball number 42, will never be seen on a major-league shirt except for Oldtimers’ Day. Age (Rivera’s birth day was November 29, 1969) and number and greatness match. Rivera grew up in poverty, well beyond Robinson’s experiences, in Panama. Rivera did it all from within.

This “end”—again, should it be career-threatening as it presently seems—is like a death. Not a real one. Richard Burbage, the leading actor in Shakespeare’s company, died many times. So did David Garrick. Marlon Brando couldn’t count the number of times he had expired. In a form of entertainment, ballplayers die also—when they have to call it quits.

Rivera had not announced plans for 2013. It was widely speculated (even as he once said that he desired to close games till he was fifty) this would be the final season, the last curtain. The real deaths of great, in-career baseball players summoned—such as Lou Gehrig too soon after retirement from the disease that carries his name and took his life, Roberto Clemente, and Thurman Munson (each in a plane crash)—are tragic. The retirement-in-injury is the actors’ threnody of a ballplayer: and almost as moving.

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Farewell, Moose Skowron

Yankee Hearts: Roger Maris, Yogi Berra, Mickey Mantle, Moose Skowron. (Charles Hoff/Daily News)

The baseball firmament lost one of its all-time World Series stars. Bill “Moose” Skowron, a fixture at Yankees Oldtimers’ Day for decades following his career, died of congestive heart failure and cancer. Although he made the final out in the 1957 World Series, which the Yankees lost to the Milwaukee Braves (led by Lew Burdette and Warren Spahn), Skowron did little else wrong in a Series. He belted a dramatic three-run home run in the Yankees’s incredible 1958 comeback against the same Braves club. Five years later, Skowron destroyed his former team as a member of the Los Angeles Dodgers when, not too many years after being a Brooklyn punching bag, they returned the favor by humiliating the 1963 Bronx Bombers in a four-game sweep—which also featured storied Yankees broadcaster Mel Allen losing his voice at some point during the shellacking. We say Farewell to the Moose, especially beloved by all Polish-Americans—as are the stars Tony Kubek, Stan “The Man” Musial, and Carl Yastrzemski—a clutch ballplayer.

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He Jests at Scars that Never Felt a Wound

Fenway Park in Boston at 100: Site of some of the most ecstatic and (more often) unhappiest moments in Red Sox history

New York Mets prospect Philip Gregory Humber (not Humbert Humbert or “from Humber,” either), who had a cup of coffee with his drafting-team in 2006 and 2007 before going to the Minnesota Twins in the Johan Santana deal, has pitched the twenty-first Perfect Game in major-league history.

(Cricket fans: This means the pitcher, so credited, has recorded twenty-seven outs without a batter reaching base, by any means, including a fielding error. The pressure in such games is immense. Mike Mussina, of the Yankees, came within one strike of achieving immortality, and there have been other close shaves in history. Babe Ruth started a game, argued the walking of the first batter, was expelled for thus complaining, and was replaced by pitcher Ernie Shore, who retired the runner on first with a double play and got the next twenty-six batters! Unique to say the least. Sadly, the game is now categorized as a no-hitter. [Cricket Fans: See the paragraph immediately below.] On May 26, 1959, poor Harvey Haddix pitched something like 12 innings of perfect ball when his Pittsburgh Pirates could not score, and wound up on the losing end. He of course never got credit for perfection, though he did more things right than any other pitcher in history during one game. That season fireman-teammate Roy Face would do more things right over the course of a season than any other pitcher in compiling an 18-1 record. A day short of a month after the Haddix masterpiece, Face would be summoned by manager Danny Murtaugh to relieve unlucky Haddix.)

Oddly, in this offensive-conscious era, there have been four perfect games hurled in the last four seasons: and even a fifth but for a bad call by usually reliable umpire Jim Joyce. The first I (Evander) could recall—and I switched the black-and-white TV to the Yankees, then at the beginnings of a memorable pennant fight, that Sunday afternoon—was thrown by Jim Bunning (later a U.S. Senator) of the Philadelphia Phillies, Fathers’ Day 1964, at then-new Shea Stadium against the Mets. The previous perfect game had been in the 1956 World Series, by the Yankees Don Larsen—probably the single greatest baseball game ever played (a big claim, I know). The Yankees have had three pitchers work perfect games. Besides Larsen, there are David Wells and David Cone.

Humber, like Larsen, is not exactly the most-obvious candidate for perfection. But that’s baseball! Another oddity: In the history of the Mets, there has never been a no-hitter. (Cricket fans: This means no batter has reached base via a hit, more common by a lot—though rare enough—than the perfect game.) But plenty of former Mets have thrown no-hitters for other teams. What makes all this especially uncanny is the plethora of outstanding pitching the Mets have developed since 1962 (which I would argue, after half-a-century, is baseball’s greatest season; one day, the subject of another blog—or maybe even another book).

The day before witnessed another form of baseball perfection. At Fenway Park in Boston, one-hundred years of that majestic field were celebrated in style. Think of this: The stadium opened but five days after the sinking of the Titanic. Fenway is older than venerable Wrigley Field, a product of the Federal League. Fenway has outlasted Briggs Stadium, Ebbets Field, Comisky Park (favored by our publisher, Paul Dry), the Polo Grounds, the original Yankee Stadium, Busch Stadium, and others as venerable. The setting matched the incredible ceremony. (In fact, this is the very field on which Ruth and Shore worked their magic one afternoon!) I am glad I was home to watch, as the Red Sox and Yankees, in old-style uniforms (the first time the Yanks ever did this; other teams have done so on other occasions: such was the importance of this setting) re-created aspects of the first game they played on April 20, 1912.

Sometime soon, I promise to begin my review of major-league stadiums, something of a passion, if not an obsession, with me.

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A Country for Old Men

Golden Oldies

Among its benefits to the world of cricket (bringing in the dough, providing a three-hour runfest for millions), the Indian Premier League is turning into a great venue for the superannuated cricketers of yore looking to earn the big bucks before their limbs fall off. To Australian Adam Gilchrist (aetat 40), who’s played the IPL for a number of seasons, add Australian Brad Hogg (41), Indians Sourav Ganguly (39) and Rahul Dravid (39), and Sri Lanka’s own, Muttiah Muralitharan—the last of whom turns 40 today. Happy birthday to the master!

The IPL was intended to blood “the young uns,” but has actually become a glorified all-star game for an audience hungry to see the greats and also-rans of yesteryear in a competition freed from national identity and the constraints of touring. And why not? It’s a treat for the players as well to be on the same side with, or in competition against, some of these legends. In our last post, we cast aspersions on Shiv Chanderpaul’s box-office boffo-ness. Perhaps when he’s done the hard yards with the West Indies (he’s now 37) he can reinvent himself in his dotage for the IPL.

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Chris Gayle versus Shivnarine Chanderpaul

Shivnarine Chanderpaul

Shiv: The Mighty Snail

Chris Gayle, the tall Jamaican left-hander known for his power hitting, is currently the star of the Royal Challengers Bangalore in the 2012 Indian Premier League. Meanwhile, Shivnarine Chanderpaul, the Guyanese left-hander known for his crabbed stance at the wicket and his ability to grind out major score after major score, is once again protecting the West Indies Test team from imminent collapse (this time against the Australians). Gayle is the Achilles of West Indies cricket—a mighty force who is only one of four men in history to 300+ twice in Tests—and yet whose conflict with the West Indies Cricket Board has left him sulking in his tent for two years, when he’s not bashing and bludgeoning the ball for hundreds of thousands of dollars in the IPL.

No one would consider Shiv Chanderpaul big box-office (he’s Andrei Tarkovsky to Gayle’s Sergei Eisenstein)—but his record is undeniable. In the course of 138 Test matches for West Indies, he’s nearing 10,000 runs at an average of nigh on 50. He’s passed 100 runs 25 times, and 50 56. He’s also not necessarily a slow-poke at the crease. In 268 one-day internationals he’s hit almost 9,000 runs at a mightily respectable average of 41.60, with 11 centuries and 59 fifties.

Chris Gayle, meanwhile, has hit only 13 centuries and 33 fifties in 91 Test matches, with an average of 41.65. His one-day international average is less than Shiv’s. In other words, Gayle for all his flash and dash, lacks the discipline and dedication of Shiv. Gayle is earning the big money, Shiv the respect and (one hopes) the gratitude of all West Indies cricket lovers. Chivvied run by chivvied run, Shiv has ended up becoming the second greatest run-scorer for West Indies (behind the immortal Brian Lara, and six places ahead of Gayle).

Of course, there’s a larger issue here: whether you see your sporting career as a dash for the cash because you’re flash, or the slow accumulation of a record for eternity. If you see cricket as all about fast-food entertainment, then Gayle’s your man; if you see cricket as a feast for savoring, then Shiv is the head chef.

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Thank you, Jackie Robinson

Jack Roosevelt Robinson: Baseball was his third-best sport

Major League Baseball reached a long-overdue milestone sixty-five years ago today when Jackie Robinson took the field for the Brooklyn Dodgers. All major-league players wear JR’s number 42 this day to honor the individual who changed everything. I (Evander) can’t help but wonder if I were around then, and of baseball-fandom age, would I have had the wisdom to understand?

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Vin Scully Returns

Broadcaster Vin Scully makes all the others look like small potatoes

Broadcasting great Vin Scully is scheduled to cover his first game of the Los Angeles Dodgers season today, Tax Day, April 15. Scully missed Opening Day with the team for only the second time in sixty-three years. At eighty-four, Scully’s a marvel. So are the Dodgers, a team that has won eight of its first nine games this young season, as second-year manager Don (“Donnie Baseball”) Mattingly looks to make Scully’s return an even more memorable one, with his club ascending to .900 versus the San Diego Padres.

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Tough-luck Buck

Buck Showalter eyes a championship in his near-future.

Buck Showalter was with the Hyannis Port Mets of the Cape Cod League (which he tore up offensively) as well as then being a fine minor-league first baseman in the New York Yankees farm system. Buck had the poor luck of being at that position when Don Mattingly was bashing all those home runs.

Showalter was then given the job of managing team-captain Mattingly and the Yankees in the wake of the dubious Stump Merrill era. In 1994, Showalter led the Yankees to the best record in the American League if not all of baseball. They seemed destined to win their first World Series since 1978. (They probably would have played the Montreal Expos. Remember them? Remember when that franchise was a talent-developing machine?)

The only problem is there would be no World Series in 1994. The season concluded with 70 wins for the Yankees and a Major League Baseball work-play stoppage.

In 1995, the Yankees won the first-ever American League Wild Card. They lost a heartbreaking series to the Seattle Mariners.

Showalter was fired. The following season, the Yankees won the World Series and have barely ever looked back.

Showalter was then tapped to build the expansion-team Arizona Diamondbacks. He constructed a superb club in a hurry. But he was dismissed at the end of the 2000 season.

The Diamondbacks won the World Series the following year.

The Texas Rangers were Showalter’s next stop. He was shown the door in 2006, a miserable failure truly for the first time in his career. Yet, in the heart of Dallas Cowboys land, the Rangers have been in the World Series in 2010 and 2011.

One has to guess what might happen with the Showalter-led Baltimore Orioles, a franchise of underachievers since the mid-1990s. Ditto being at the helm of the 2020s’ New York Mets; disappointed once again in a result, viz., the 2022-playoffs “walk.”

The rap on Buck Showalter is that he is a control freak and “over-manager.” Let’s hope he sticks it out today to make a much-desired World Series appearance.

In April, the baseball season is often being viewed thro the wrong end of a telescope.

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