Filed under: General
Derek Jeter needs 1151 hits to pass Pete Rose for the most hits in major league baseball history*. Knowing that Derek Jeter is 38 this season, makes that number seem pretty far out of reach. However, the way Jeter is hitting makes me wonder if perhaps Jeter has a legitimate shot at the record.
In the final 47 games of last season, he got 68 hits and batted .345. He’s also been hot out of the gate this season, hitting .378 with 17 hits in 10 games. Obviously, he won’t maintain that kind of production through the entire season, but it’s certainly a good way to start.
Consider this: Pete Rose averaged 136.5 runs per year for 8 years, starting at his age-38 season. In that 8 year span he had only two more years in which he collected more than 150 hits (185 hits at age 39 and 172 at age 41). The other 5 years, he averaged just 105 hits, finishing his career at 4256.
If Derek Jeter matches that production for the next 8 years (including this, his age-38 season), he will finish his career with 4197 hits, just 59 hits behind Rose.
There are at least three other things working Jeter’s favor. First, is simply his acknowledged desire to play into his forties; retirement doesn’t seem close. Second, that his manager is determined to keep him fresh and healthy. And third, that Jeter’s work ethic is among the best in the game, so if he doesn’t pass Rose, it won’t be because he didn’t keep himself in shape or work hard.
So, I’m not going to make a prediction here, but I think the evidence suggests that Jeter has a legitimate shot at Rose, and certainly at 4,000 hits (only 895 away). He has, at least, the best shot at either of those milestones of any player since Rose.
*A side note: all of the numbers above are regular season statistics. Rose has another 86 in the postseason, while Jeter has 191. That means Jeter needs 1046 hits to have the most major league hits ever.
Filed under: Uncategorized
In a lot of ways my baseball “career” is a reflection of Derek Jeter’s. I came to this realization during my read of the new biography of the captain, which was released just a few weeks ago and is fittingly titled, The Captain, by Ian O’Connor.
I realize that comparing my time on the couch to the career of baseball’s most prolific shortstop is nearly a crime, so I want to assure you my intentions are from doing so. No, what I really mean is that I started seriously following baseball around the 1996 season, Jeter’s first full year in Major League Baseball and in many ways my experience of the game has reflected his, albeit from very different vantage point.
The first few years of my baseball experience were more than charmed. I didn’t have to long to wait to experience a World Series victory; nor did Jeter. And in the next four years, I would see the Yankees, led by Jeter, win three more. The Yankee experience during that five-year run was more than any baseball fan or player could possibly hope for. The Yankees of my youth were the ultimate team players. Jeter, Tino Martinez, Paul O’Neil, Jorge Posada, and every last man on the team were willing to do whatever they had to do to help their team win, and win they did.
1998 was the greatest example of this. The Yankees established themselves as one of the best, if not the best, baseball teams of all time. And, they did so without one man on the team exhibiting a over-the-top-amazing offensive year. They didn’t need to; each guy pulled his own weight and they all pulled in the same direction: October baseball.
One of the most interesting things about O’Connor’s biography is the insight he provides into the years following, in my opinion, the greatest baseball dynasty of all time. The Yankees just couldn’t win it all like they had done before. As the heart and soul players of the dynastic Yankees retired or were traded away for the kind of over-the-top stars the Yankees had never needed, something changed. O’Connor quotes, and I remember Jeter saying, in response to questions about these new Yankee teams, “It’s not the same team.”
It just wasn’t the same. While I like to give guys the benefit of the doubt, it just seemed like the selfish play of these new Yankees was unhinging the team. Jeter and I both would be shocked that another 8 years would pass before we would see another World Series victory.
I was certainly spoiled by these early victories in my baseball life, but thankfully, during the eight-year drought, I developed a greater appreciation for and deeper understanding of the game as I got to know fans of some other teams a little better (In particular, one Cleveland Indians fan whose small-market team is in so many ways the opposite of the Yankees).
I guess what I’m trying to say is this: In the first five years that I really seriously followed the game, I saw the very best baseball I will probably ever see. I don’t know if, for Jeter, it just rushed by, but it certainly did for me. Sometimes when I look back, I wish I had been a little older, so maybe I could have savored things a little more. Still, I’m incredibly grateful for books like this one by O’Connor that bring me back, that provide some deeper insight into the events and personalities surrounding those Yankee teams that I may have missed while still a little too young to really understand.
I also think that I’m more excited than ever to see what’s in store for the future of the Yankees. After watching nearly a decade’s worth of over-paid “stars” crumble to nothing in the Bronx, it finally feels like a team again. I love watching young, home-grown talents like Bret Gardner and Robinson Cano do the little things they need to do to help the team win. I don’t know if he’ll be around long enough to do it, but I hope to see these Yankees take Jeter (and me) on a run that sees him match Yogi Berra’s collection of ten World Series rings.
Filed under: General
I just applied to MLB’s Dream Job promotion, and for it I had to write a little bit about myself and why I love baseball. I thought I’d share it with you as well:
My Baseball Story:
I’m a Jersey boy, born and bred, and I had three main passions throughout my childhood and they remain my main passions today: God/church, reading and the New York Yankees. I grew up in the height of the Yankees dynasty in the 90s. I count myself very fortunate to have been coming into full-appreciation of baseball at a time when it was the most fun to watch.
I’ll never forget driving home with my dad from church or some other weeknight activity and tuning into AM770 to listen to John Sterling and Michael Kay as they called that night’s game. I can still hear Sterling’s clear strong voice calling out, “BERNIE GOES BOOM!” or “JORGIE JUICED ONE!”
I remember exactly where I was sitting during the last out of the each of the 96, 98, 99, and 2000 World Series’, and watching heart broken from my friend’s living room as Mariano Rivera gave up that World Series-winning bloop single to Luis Gonzalez in 2001.
Since my childhood, my love for the Yankees has led to a deeper appreciation of baseball as a whole. I’m thankful that instead of becoming a brainless and spoiled Yankee fan, as there are so many already, I grew to truly love the game. Nothing gets me quite as excited as talking baseball history, debating which was more impressive: DiMaggio’s hit streak or Williams’ .406 average (obviously it’s the streak); or wondering how many wins Satchel Paige would have had if he’d played his whole career in the majors or how many home runs Roberto Clemente would have had if he hadn’t been in the plane crash.
If I could go back to any point in time, I would go to the 50’s when there were three teams in New York and none of them were the Mets; I would watch Don Larsen’s perfect game; I would wait for 1961 and cheer just as hard for Maris as I would for Mantle; and I would ask Bob Sheppard to say my name just once.
While, I’m still young and have many baseball years ahead of me, I’ve learned a few important things that every fan should know: First, that home-grown players are so much better than the big purchases. Second, that there are few greater accomplishments than staying with one team for your entire career. And third, that triples are much more exciting than home runs.
My greatest baseball wish is to see a perfect game in person. I remember in 2008 (I think), I was at a game that Chien Ming Wang pitched perfectly into the eighth. It was one of the most exciting things I was ever a part of and it was crushing when it ended.
I believe that baseball is America’s greatest past time because of it’s great history and because of it’s pace. Unlike the rest of American life, baseball allows you to savor each and every moment, every hit and every pitch.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Balfour, Cliff Lee, Nolasco, Plan B, Webb, wood, yankees
So, the Yankees have missed out on Cliff Lee. The reaction of the masses is that the Yanks rotation is in serious trouble, but, ever the optimist, I see loads of possibilities that could put us in a better situation than if we had gotten Lee.
Cliff would have eaten up a very significant amount of the Yankees available payroll. Without him, (and let’s assume Pettitte retires) they have somewhere in the neighborhood of $35 million to spend. Instead of pouring that all into one pitcher, I think they can make the team much more solid all around, pouring that money into pitching and the bench.
One: trade for Ricky Nolasco. Nolasco is young, cheap and very good. Even better, the Marlins were already shopping him during the winter meetings, so we know he’s probably available. Nolasco’s current contract has him making $6-7 million in 2011.
Current available budget: $28 MM
Two: depends on what Andy Pettitte does. If he returns, great! If not, take a risk. My suggestion is to sign Brandon Webb on the cheap. Webb’s situation is similar to that of Ben Sheets last year, who was coming off elbow surgery (and hadn’t pitched a day in 2009). The A’s inked Sheets for $10 million a year, and so far it hasn’t worked out too well for the A’s. Webb comes with a deeper risk/reward scenario, but the Yankees can use the Sheets situation as leverage and maybe get Webb for $8-9 million.
Current rotation: Sabathia, Hughes, Nolasco, Burnett, Webb
Waiting in the wings: Ivan Nova
Current available budget: $19 MM
Three: reinforce the bullpen. With still loads to spend, the reliever Brain Cashman should talk to first is Kerry Wood. Now, Kerry Wood is probably looking for a closers job, and the Yankees have said they won’t pay him closer money. But, with loads still available in the budget, Cashman should overpay Wood to be Mariano’s setup guy. Give him a multi-year deal worth $8-9 million, and remind him that if Mariano goes down or retires, the closers job belongs to him.
Then, go after Grant Balfour. The clever people at MLBtraderumors.com think he’ll get a little less than Joaquin Benoit did (3 years, $16.5 MM), so let’s say the Yanks give him 3 years, $15 MM.
Current bullpen: Rivera, Wood, Balfour, Joba, Robertson, Marte, Mitre, Logan
Current available budget: $5 MM
Finally, round out the budget with one or two decent bench players.
This morning, I sat down at my desk at work and checked on the usual things: email, Twitter, and, most importantly, Yankees.com. My heart sunk upon reading the news that George M. Steinbrenner III, the Yankees principal owner of the Yankees since 1973, passed away this morning.
I was taken aback by my own reaction to this news. It sounds a little silly, since I never had the opportunity to meet the man, but I found myself truly sad, as if Mr. Steinbrenner had been a close friend. I immediately began to assess myself. Why so strong a reaction to the passing of man you never knew?
It hit me then, that I owe this man a lot. Anyone who knows me, even just casually, knows that I’m a Yankee fan and more. I’m a fan of the game itself, and I feel a connection to the players and coaches, men whose careers and stories I’ve followed since the mid 1990s (at which time I was about 7 or 8). Baseball, the Yankees, the Yankee tradition and Yankee pride have become an important part of who I am.
If it weren’t for Mr. Steinbrenner’s fiery passion and drive to win, I wouldn’t have known a Yankee team instilled with those same qualities. If it weren’t for Mr. Steinbrenner’s desire to put together quality players and coaches, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to look back at the examples set by men like Thurman Munson and Don Mattingly. I wouldn’t have had the chance to watch the recently fired and unsuccessful Joe Torre become one of the winningest managers in baseball history. If not for Mr. Steinbrenner’s will to develop a strong farm system, I wouldn’t have seen the likes of Derek Jeter, Jorge Posada, Mariano Rivera, and Andy Pettitte become the core of two generations of Yankee championship teams.
In the past, I wouldn’t have listed George Steinbrenner as one of my heroes. Bernie Williams, Paul O’ Neill, Tino Martinez, Joe Girardi, David Cone, Scott Brosius, and the men mentioned above: these are my heroes, but George M. Steinbrenner III is the man who gave them to me. Thanks, Mr. Steinbrenner, for giving me the Yankees.
Filed under: General | Tags: Aaron Boone home run, Alex Rodriguez, American League Championship Series, baseball, red sox, yankees
In response to my post yesterday, I received the following question: What about the other games during the year that don’t end in dramatic fashion?
Great question, and here’s my response:
Baseball is filled with season-long stories. A good example of this came in 2003. The Yankees and Red Sox carried their rivalry into the bottom of the 11th inning of game seven of the American League Championship series; there isn’t a movie out there with a setting this good. Aaron Boone capitalized, hitting a walk-off home run to send the Yankees to the World Series.
Clearly, this was a moment that any casual sports fan could enjoy, but there’s more to the story. Aaron Boone is by no means an all-star or a clutch hitter. He had a decent year for the Yankees in 2003, but his career had been underwhelming. He is certainly not the Alex Rodriguez type slugger you’d be hoping for in this type of situation. In fact, I recall being filled with dread, as I was sure that Boone was only going to waste a chance to win the game. But then, my heart stopped, and the moment lives on.
There are many great stories that run through a baseball season. Some end in Aaron-Boone-type moments, many others do not, but grinding out each game with the players, and following their stories, brings an incredible depth to baseball. These stories stretch out much further than just one season. For instance, you may watch a favorite player struggle for an entire season, then bounce back the next to help lead his team to the playoffs. That victory is so much sweeter, having endured the struggles that came before.
Some of these stories run for decades. One day the happiest person ever to exist will be a life-long Cubs fan, seeing his team win the World Series (they haven’t won one in over a century).
Other stories play out only in one game, inning, or even at-bat. There’s a lot of excitement to be had in watching a batter foul off eight pitches. The drama builds with each one that he knocks harmlessly into the stands. The at-bat could result in a highlight home run, or a lazy infield pop-up. Even if it’s just a pop-up, the pitcher’s been worn down a little, possibly making way for a highlight hit later in the game.
A seemingly unimportant at-bat is still a part of the story of the game. In the same way, a blowout loss is still a part of the story of the season. As I alluded to above, these lows also provide contrast for the highs, making the highlights all that much better.
It’s true that experiencing baseball in this kind of depth requires some investment on your part. It may take up some of your time and maybe even some money, but you probably spend time and money on movies and TV anyway (cable comes with baseball, by the way). It’s your choice whether or not to invest, but the truth is that baseball stories are some of the best ever told.
Welcome to the fast food nation: a place where most would rather scarf down a frozen dinner than to take the time to prepare one yourself. As if boxed macaroni and cheese wasn’t easy and impersonal enough, we now have Easy Mac (just add water).
Television has helped to create a people that have no patience. They want to see the entire story in an hour-long program or a two-hour movie, rather then have it developed for them over hundreds of pages. TV and film do offer a unique way to see and experience the unfolding events, but they often sacrifice the characters. What’s a story without characters?
The same attitudes have invaded the world of sports. It seems as though the majority look at the game as a whole without taking in the details of the men or women who are playing it. When this is the way that sports are approached, only a few things matter: touchdowns, goals, home runs, diving catches; the highlights.
But what about the grit? What are the highlights without the failures? A man once said of the late Yankee catcher, Thurman Munson, “In baseball, this is the measure of a man, the guts behind the glory.”
Baseball is often condemned for being boring, too long, and for not having enough action. But it’s the moments between the highlights that make the highlights great. They create the whole story.
The pitchers’ duel is a match-up in which two players single handedly cripple the opposing teams’ offenses. For the hitters, each at-bat is a grind, trying to find some chink in the armor, some weakness to exploit. In last night’s Yankees/Red Sox game this battle went on for 10 innings, the tension building with each pitch, until suddenly snapping, with a loud crack of the bat: Yankee centerfielder Curtis Granderson hitting a long home run to put his team ahead.
A few years ago, I went to a game in which Chien Ming Wang pitched a perfect game into the eighth inning. A perfect game is one in which the pitcher doesn’t allow a single batter to reach base for the entire length of the game: 27 up, 27 down. This feat is incredibly rare, happening only 18 times in over 346,000 games since 1900.
I watched as Wang retired batter after batter. Once the game was five or six innings in, the entire stadium (and thousands of home views) held their breath with each pitch, willing Wang to achieve the impossible. He failed, giving up a solo home run in the eighth inning. But it’s those kinds of stories, those kinds of failures that make the game worth watching. When you experience that kind of tension, the kind that builds slowly over nine innings or 162 games, you end up leaving either more excited than you’ve ever been, or feeling the weight of the world come crashing down around you. When you watch your team struggle again and again, year after year, but then witness that one year they win it all after grinding it out game after game, inning after inning, one pitch at a time. You know that you were with them all along, for every triumphant win and every heart breaking loss. This is what makes it all worth it: the guts behind the glory.
