Cleveland Indians Baseball

Ron Washington in New Orleans

2012-02-13T15:49:00.001-08:00

Ron Washington is not happy to see me. I wasn’t supposed tocome here. Not to New Orleans, the place where he was born, the place he hascalled home his entire life. Not to his neighborhood in the notorious NinthWard, where he and his wife, Gerry, have lived for more than 25 years. Andcertainly not to his front door, which, after a knock, is opened wide enoughfor him to peer out, but not so wide that I can see in. The usually jubilant,smiling Texas Rangers manager looks tired, worn down. Behind his wire-framedglasses, his normally bright brown eyes appear sunken, shot with flecks ofyellow. His hair—the ring of what’s left of it—is disheveled, his mustacheruffled.

He doesn’t give interviews in New Orleans, I was told. Thisis his safe zone, his off time, a respite from the game he’s been a part of forall but a few of his 58 years on this planet. But I’m here to learn about RonWashington. About the man. About what created the force that propelled theRangers to the greatest season in franchise history. So I had to come to thisneighborhood. And I had to knock on his door.

He looks like a grandfather just roused from a postprandialThanksgiving Day nap. I tell him who I am and ask if he has a few minutes totalk.

“I’m not interested,” he says. His tone is apologetic butfirm. He looks around to see if there’s anyone with me, and he squints in thesunlight. He sees I’m alone.

“Can I at least ask about what’s carved into the sidewalkover there?” I ask.

In front of Ron Washington’s house, in capital letters thatspan three or four squares of the sidewalk, someone has etched into theconcrete “NIGGERS.” You can tell it wasn’t written when the concrete was wet,either. No, someone had to take a sharp object and cut into the concrete withso much persistence and pressure that the gashed letters would remain visiblefor years.

“Oh, that,” he says. “That’s some ugliness. It was donebefore I got the house.”

Tax records show he bought this house in 1986. He was aback-up infielder for the Minnesota Twins then. That means that a man who’sbeen coaching or managing—and before that, playing—in the Major Leagues forthree decades has seen this racial slur every time he stepped out into his ownfront yard. And he has never paid the couple hundred dollars it would take toreplace the concrete. And he’s never moved out of this modest single-storybrick-and-brown-shingle house—valued by the Orleans Parish tax assessor’soffice at $110,000—even after it was flooded and gutted and uninhabitable formore than a year.

A lot of people with money have left New Orleans. Anne Riceis gone. So are Brad and Angelina. Harry Anderson, the judge from Night Court,left, too. Even Sean Payton, head coach of the Saints, recently moved hisfamily out of New Orleans and into the Dallas suburb of Westlake.

But Ron Washington has stayed. Though he’s certainly notamong the highest-paid managers in the game—the hosts on 1310 The Ticket jokethat he lives in a cardboard box by the ballpark—he has still earned millionsof dollars over his career. He could live in a six-bedroom mansion in apleasant suburb somewhere, behind a wall and gate and a guard who calls him“sir.”

But he rebuilt his house here, in an area my hotel conciergeand cab driver both told me not to visit at night. I want to ask the man why hecame back. Why he stays.

Standing in his doorway, in his wind pants and graysweatshirt, Ron Washington looks like a regular guy on his day off. He could bea cable repairman maybe, or an airline employee. This man didn’t ask to befamous. He didn’t ask to have his ungrammatical utterances quoted and printedon shirts, or to have children dress like him for Halloween.

“I promise I don’t mean to bother you,” I tell him. “I justcame all this way, and I figured I’d try.”

“I’m sorry you made the trip all the way out here,” he says.“I’m just really not interested.”

From the outside, the house that Ron Washington rebuiltseems pleasant enough: a modest 2,000 square feet or so, windows with new whiteshutters, a brick mailbox out front, a two-car garage in the back. The lawn hasbeen mowed and edged. His is certainly one of the nicer houses on the block.

This neighborhood is full of houses that never got fixed,empty tombstones for families and friends who never came back. Just a fewhundred yards from the salty waters of Lake Pontchartrain, these blocks wereunder 5 feet of murky sludge for more than six weeks. There are reminders ofthe storm everywhere. The house directly behind Washington’s has beencompletely gutted. The address is spelled out in scripted iron letters mountedto the front wall, and green floral-print drapes still hang over the glassbehind the open front door—small remnants of a life that no longer exists—butthe rest of the house has been stripped, barred, and abandoned. The rottedfurniture, warped photos, useless appliances, even the copper wiring in thewalls—are all gone.

The uninhabited house across the street to the west hasnewspapers from 2005 taped over the inside of the windows and a brown, smudgywater line that never washed off. The empty shell of a house across the streetto the north still has bright orange spray paint on the brick wall: a giant “X”and a “9/6,” disaster-response shorthand for “On September 6, 2005, there wereno dead bodies inside this house.”

About half the houses in Washington’s neighborhood have beenrebuilt or repaired enough to be repopulated. So this is also a place forsurvivors, for people who have endured. This is a city that has for centuriesburied its dead one on top of the other. The people here continue to endure,plodding through life one day at a time, because it’s the only way they know.

At the last Rangers press conference before spring training,an event in Round Rock, Texas, celebrating the acquisition of the new Triple-Aaffiliate, a reporter asked Ron Washington if he planned to go back to NewOrleans when he was done in Texas.

“I haven’t left New Orleans,” he responded. “I still makeNew Orleans my home. I still go back there in the wintertime. I was grownthere. I was born there. It’s part of my heritage. It’s slow coming back, but Iwant to be there and be a part of it when it do come back.”

That’s how Ron Washington talks, with a very particularsyntax acquired in the Ninth Ward.

The team provides him with a house in Arlington worth alittle more than $200,000—still quite modest by the standards of professionalsports. But any time he gets off, he comes back here.

One thing is certain: it isn’t because he’s a neighborhoodhero—or even close to his neighbors. His only adjacent neighbor, Esha McDougle,a 31-year-old hairstylist, has never exchanged more than a friendly honk and awave with him or Gerry. McDougle moved in a few months ago. Before I knocked onher door earlier today, she had not only never heard of Ron Washington, shewasn’t sure what sport the Texas Rangers play.

“I had no idea there was someone like that around here,” shetells me. “They seem so down to earth.”

Sonja Rollins, who lives across the street, had never heardof Ron Washington either. She figured maybe the guy in the corner house was atraveling salesman. “They don’t be home too much,” she says.

Adam Owens, a firefighter in his 20s who lives a few doorsdown, follows baseball and has known who lives in the corner house for a fewyears now. Owens sees them outside every once in a while when he walks hisdogs. The two men usually exchange a smile and a nod and nothing more. “He’s aquiet dude,” Owens says. “Most people around here have no clue who he is.”

So much of baseball is about failure. The best sluggers inthe game fail to get a hit in two-thirds of their at-bats. The best pitchersstill let in an average of two runs a game. Everyone makes errors. Everyonestrikes out. The sport is about dealing with disappointments and pain andmoving forward to another day. And Ron Washington has had more than his shareof disappointment and pain: from growing up in the projects, one of 10 kids ina family that sometimes didn’t have enough to eat, to losing a brother inVietnam, to losing his house in a giant hurricane, to slowly losing his motherto Alzheimer’s. He’s had his share of failures, too, with only 10 Major Leaguegames played in the first 11 years of his pro career and more than two decadesspent pining for a big league manager position. But even in the cynical worldof sports, his biggest failure was shocking.

In front of a line of cameras and reporters, last season RonWashington desperately asked the public to believe that, at 57 years old, theone and only time he’d ever tried cocaine just happened to be a few days beforethe one time that year he was scheduled to be tested. He said he was sorry,that what he’d done was stupid, that he’d gone to counseling, that he promisedhe’d help young people.

He summed up the situation like only Ron Washington could:“Challenges are what you make of life that makes it interesting,” he said.“Overcoming those challenges is what makes life meaningful. And I do want tomake a difference. And I do want to put something meaningful in everybody’slife.” Then he looked directly into the cameras. “That’s just been the way RonWashington has been.”

Despite the support of his players, there were immediatecalls for his firing. “Now that the story of Washington’s failed drug test ispublic, the question is how long the Rangers can afford to stand behind theirman,” Tim Cowlishaw wrote in the Dallas Morning News. “My guess? Not verylong.”

The next day, Jean-Jacques Taylor wrote, “The Rangersshould’ve fired Ron Washington the day he admitted using cocaine during lastyear’s All-Star break. No questions asked.”

But Jon Daniels, the Wunderkind who’d gone from intern togeneral manager in under five years, was less inclined to give up on the man hehired. “My emotions were all over the place,” Daniels told reporters at thetime. “I was shocked. I was disappointed. I was angry. I felt all those thingsthat probably our fans are going to feel. We decided to work through it. Youhope at some point some good will come out of this.”

No honest Rangers fan could have imagined what good couldcome of this. Even Nolan Ryan, the greatest Ranger of all time and a model ofausterity and sobriety (he swears he’s never taken an illegal drug in hislife), admits he had backup plans if Washington didn’t work out.

“We went into last year with a lot of questions,” Ryan saysnow. Looking back, he’s obviously pleased with his decision to stick with hismanager, though he says so with the modesty of a lifelong Texan who, no matterwhere he went, always came home to Texas. “With Ron, I think that he hasprobably been the right person in the right place for the way that thisorganization has come together.”

That’s Ryan’s way of saying the Rangers needed someone likeRon Washington. They needed a survivor, someone who could rebuild. In so many ways, Washington’s entire life hadbeen preparing him for this moment.

The first time he moved away from New Orleans was 1970, whenhe was 18. It was also his first time to fly in a plane. He had just signed hisfirst baseball contract, for $1,000 with the Kansas City Royals, and he washeading for the team’s new baseball academy in Sarasota, Florida, where he knewno one. He would later say that when he looked out the window of the plane, hecouldn’t help but tear up.

He grew up in the Desire Housing Project, one of the city’smost crime-ridden developments, working hard to stretch a three-dollar-a-weekallowance into five days of lunch money and bus fare. A wiry kid with glasses,he couldn’t always outrun the bullies who wanted his money. But he found refugein baseball. He played catcher, and, as a boy, he slept with the mitt hisfather—a truck driver—gave him. After high school, he learned about a series oftryouts the Royals were holding all over the country, the franchise’s attemptto cultivate talented minority kids from places other teams wouldn’t even sendscouts. Of the 156 players at the tryouts in New Orleans, Washington was theonly one invited to the academy.

That’s where he met a quiet, thoughtful middle infielderfrom Mississippi named Frank White. “He was one of the most rambunctious guysI’d ever met,” remembers White, who recently resigned from the Royals frontoffice to pursue broadcasting. “He’d sit there behind home plate and just talknonstop. He never let things get boring.”

The two of them—the chatter-mouth catcher and the pensivesecond baseman—became fast friends. They were also the star pupils. The academydrilled the importance of fundamentals and technique, and the young ballplayerstook direction well. When coaches told the confident catcher there was nochance he would ever make it to the big leagues squatting behind the plate at140 pounds, he agreed to switch to the infield. He loved playing catcherbecause he felt he could control the whole game, but he was dedicated toplaying in the majors and he did what he was told.

“He had this great ability to adapt to any situation,” Whitetells me. “And he could always take the lemons and make lemonade.”

Both men worked their way up into the Royals farm system.White went on to play 18 seasons in the majors, all with Kansas City. He madefive All-Star games, won eight Gold Gloves, and, in 1985, he was a key part ofthe team that won the World Series.

That’s not what happened to Washington, though. After sixyears, he still couldn’t break into the big leagues—at least partially becauseWhite was so consistent at second base—and he was traded to the Dodgers for aguy who never played in the majors. After nearly two full years in the Dodgersorganization, he finally got called up at the end of the 1977 season. In the 10games he played, he batted .368 and stole one base, but the Dodgers in the late’70s had one of the all-time great infields. The promising 25-year-old startedthe next season back in Triple-A.

He was trying to beat out a grounder in a freezing ballparkin Utah early that next year—“He was never one to slack off,” White says—whenhe tore up his knee. And because this was before the days of laparoscopicsurgery, it would take four more years and another team before he’d make itback to the show.

When he finally made the Twins roster as a utilityin–fielder in 1981, he was nearly in his 30s. He’d play second base one night,pinch hit the next, then not see any action for a week. But he had a reputationas a hard worker. “If he messed up, or even if he dropped a ball in practice,he’d take responsibility immediately,” says Randy Bush, a teammate from ’82 to’86 and a fellow New Orleanian. Bush was primarily a pinch hitter in those daysand spent plenty of nights in the dugout next to his friend. Day after day, nomatter how long he’d been sitting on that bench, Washington would never missthe chance to stand up and congratulate his teammates as they returned to thedugout.

“Ron was always intense,” Bush says. “He wasn’t about totake anything for granted.”

The two of them used to go to the ballpark early and playpepper to make sure they were fresh. They’d also train together back in NewOrleans in the off-season. They used to meet in the morning and run for miles.Then they’d throw each other batting practice. Then they’d lift weights. Fivedays a week, like factory workers. If it was raining too hard, they’d spend theday running sprints inside a gym.

Ron Maestri was the head coach of the baseball team at theUniversity of New Orleans at the time, and he let the two pros work out in theschool facilities. “I used to get my players together and tell them to watchthose guys,” Maestri says. “I’d say, ‘This is what it takes to make it in the big leagues.’ ”

These days Maestri is an executive with the New OrleansZephyrs minor league club, but he still talks to both men often. “He always hadthis great ability to just be the same every day,” Maestri says. “When thingsare hard, Wash doesn’t change. When things are good, Wash doesn’t change.”

Most of his career has been long bus trips and strange beds,a long-distance call home every night and a life in a suitcase. He lived in theshadows of the game. Even when he eventually made it to the majors, not eventhe most dedicated stats geeks knew the name Ron Washington. He was a .261batter who never hit more than five homers in a season.

“Ron and I weren’t superstars,” says Bush, now the assistantgeneral manager of the Chicago Cubs. “We didn’t have the natural talent or sizesome of those guys had. We were never guaranteed a spot. We had to go intospring training ready to play.”

One year, Bush led the American League in pinch hits andtwice more he finished in the top three. He went on to win two World Seriesrings with the Twins.

That’s not what happened to Washington, though. He wasreleased in spring training before the ’87 season, the year the Twins won theirfirst World Series. He watched his buddies—the men he’d congratulated from thedugout for six years—win a championship without him. He spent a year with theBaltimore Orioles, a year with the Cleveland Indians, and seven final gameswith the Houston Astros in 1989—where he was briefly a teammate of NolanRyan’s.

When no more major league teams wanted him, he spent anotheryear in the minors, finishing his career the way he started it, as a catcher.And when no more minor league teams had room for him, he played in a seniors’league in Daytona Beach until the league folded in December of 1990.

Years later, on rare occasions when the mood got serious,Bush would ask his friend about 1987, about getting cut the year the team wonthe World Series. “I know I would have been so mad, but I never heard him complain,”Bush says. “He said he truly has no bitterness over it. He told me, ‘It is whatit is. You just gotta let it go and turn the page. You gotta keep working. Whatelse can you do?’ That’s always stayed with me.”

His managing career began the same way his playing careerdid, with several years spent moving up and down through minor leagues. Hedidn’t get a chance to coach on a major league staff until a former Twinsteammate, Billy Beane, became the Oakland A’s general manager. Beane, too, hadspent nights in the dugout with Ron Washington, listening to him chatter. Heknew his scrappy history and he remembered the positive attitude and focus onfundamentals. He brought him on as the first base coach.

The new coach brought the creeds he’d been taught so manyyears ago at the academy: footwork, situational awareness, practicing hard evenif you probably won’t play, playing today like yesterday never happened. Healso brought the infectious smile of a man who loves his job.

Within a few years, he’d garnered a reputation as a man whocould make a professional infielder out of anyone. Author Michael Lewis tooknote of him when he wrote the 2003 book Moneyball: the Art of Winning an UnfairGame. “Wash’s job was to take the mess Billy Beane sent him during springtraining and make sure it didn’t embarrass anyone by opening day,” Lewis wrote.“He had a gift for making players want to be better than they were—though hewould never allow himself such a pretentious thought.” He also noted howwonderfully quotable the entertaining coach can be, writing, “Ron Washingtoncan’t open his mouth without saying something that belongs in Bartlett’s.”

Despite Washington’s fine work as a coach, nobody wanted togive him a chance to manage. And that included Billy Beane, who interviewedhim—and passed him over—several times.

“That definitely hurt him,” Maestri says. “He felt like hewould make a good manager, and he wanted people to believe him.”

Though they were longtime friends, Beane was, at heart, astats man. And Washington was, statistically speaking, 100 percent heart. Evenif he wasn’t beloved by management, his players adored him. A’s third basemanEric Chavez actually gave the coach one of his Gold Glove trophies. And whenthe trophy was destroyed in the hurricane, Chavez asked Rawlings to commissionanother one and gave him that.

Washington was in Baltimore the night the storm hit. Hiswife and family had driven to Atlanta. What the storm itself spared, the floodsdid not.

“He lost everything,” Maestri says. “Every room in the housewas destroyed.”

He had good insurance, but both past and present playerswanted to help him, to chip in. Jason Giambi, by then in the middle of his $120million contract with the Yankees, slipped him a check for $25,000 before agame one night.

It was one more thing to endure for Washington. But when theinsurance company finally got around to checking out the damage, and thesupplies and construction crews eventually became available, they got to workrebuilding the house one room at a time. All told, it took nearly five years torebuild Washington’s house, but he never complained. Instead, he went to theballpark every day and did his job.

“For Ron, baseball is an escape,” Maestri says. “When he’sat the ballpark with all his friends, that’s like a personal heaven for him.”

His house was still under repair in November 2006, when hefinally got his big league managing job—not from his A’s, but from their rivalTexas Rangers—reportedly sealing the deal a few days earlier by impressing JonDaniels and Tom Hicks at a backyard barbecue. He promised that the Rangerswould no longer rely on a power-hitting offense alone. He announced the teamwould finally learn to play small ball. They’d work the counts, take the extrabases, never stop applying pressure. He said the Ron Washington era wouldinclude a focus on defense, which would, in turn, help out the pitching.

It sounded good in theory—even if it sounded strange comingout of his mouth. But it was slow going at first. There were reports thatcertain veterans were feuding with the new manager. In 2007, his first seasonwith the Rangers, the team went 75-87, but a few of those veterans weren’taround by the end of the year.

In the 2008 season, they continued to struggle but finishedthe year in second place in the division. In 2009, the team was in playoffcontention—and in first place for short stretches—late in the summer. Rangersfans had something to believe in for the first time in years. Then came thatinfamous All-Star break.

He’s never discussed the details in public. He said he metup with old friends in Anaheim. They were out drinking. One thing led toanother. A few days later, there was a knock on the door, a urine sample, aphone call to the league’s employee assistance number. There was the tenseconversation with Jon Daniels and Nolan Ryan, an offer to resign—if that’s whatthey wanted. He’d do anything to save his career. He couldn’t bear the thoughtthat, after 39 years of giving everything to the game of baseball, this wouldbe what he’d be known for.

They told him he could stay if he agreed to counseling andregular tests. But they warned that if the news got out, nobody would believe a57-year-old manager just decided to try cocaine for the first time in his life.

Then the news broke. The national sports media descendedupon Surprise, Arizona, for what was one of the more bizarre stories of theyear. After all he’d been through in life, Ron Washington had never felt shamelike this. This, he did to himself.

He called his old friend from the academy, but the oldchatterbox catcher could barely get his words out. “He said he felt like he letme down,” White says. “I assured him he hadn’t. I said, ‘You’ve beenaccountable. You admitted to what you did. You’ve taken the right steps. You didn’tlet me down, Ron.’ ”

He placed a similar call to Ron Maestri, back in NewOrleans. “He said, ‘Maes, I feel like I really let you down.’ I said, ‘Wash,you made a mistake, but you handled this like a man. I’m proud of you.’ ”

The season started slowly, and it looked like the predictionthat he would be fired was coming true. But then something happened. Danielsand Ryan noticed it. The players noticed it, too. Elvis Andrus started showingup early for extra fielding practice. Josh Hamilton became a more vocal leader.The Texas Rangers became grinders. They worked the count to wear opposingpitchers down. They took the extra base any chance they got. The entire teambegan to take on the personality of Ron Washington. They even started repeatinghis quirky, Yogi Berra-esque pearls of wisdom such as: “This team do what itdoes, it do what it do” and “I just think that’s the way my hair grow” and, ofcourse, the slogan that launched a thousand t-shirts, “That’s the way baseballgo.”

By the middle of June, they were in first place. Then theteam added Cliff Lee and never looked back. And as the team won more and more,it seemed like people liked those funny things he said more and more. Therewere t-shirts, radio montages, songs on YouTube, a 7-year-old who, with thehelp of a shaved head and stick-on mustache, looked hilariously like themanager. These were strange days indeed.

In September, the team clinched first place in Oakland,right in front of Billy Beane. The Rangers entered the postseason as underdogs.First, they took down the Tampa Bay Rays—the team that had finished the regularseason with the best record in baseball—in five dramatic games. Next up werethe Yankees, the defending champions who had ended so many Rangers seasons inthe past.

Game one, in Arlington, started well, but the team blew afive-run lead and lost. Washington got a chance at redemption the very next

night, in the bottom of the first inning. Andrus beat out agrounder to lead off, then took second on a wild pitch. He stole third on acurveball in the dirt. With two outs and runners at the corners, the managercalled for a rare double steal.

As the pitcher went into his wind up, Josh Hamilton brokefor second base. When the catcher tried to pick him off, Andrus sprinted forhome. The throw back to home came in wide and—safe! Just like that, a one-runlead, momentum, the Ron Washington way.

After the amazing play, the manager stood smiling at the topof his dugout, ready to high-five each of his players. The Rangers won the game7-2, won the series in six games—the clinching moment of game six coming with asymbolic Alex Rodriguez strikeout. And for the first time in franchise history,the Texas Rangers were going to the World Series.

“October was one of those magical months that you see inbaseball,” Nolan Ryan says. “I can honestly say that when we clinched againstthe Yankees that night, it was truly one of the highlights of my baseballcareer and probably one of the most exciting times on a personal basis thatI’ve ever had.”

And of course we know how this story ends. No, RonWashington didn’t win the World Series. In football and basketball, theymeasure greatness only in rings. But in baseball, sometimes championshipsaren’t the most important thing. Sometimes it’s just about who finds a way tokeep showing up. Sometimes it’s about surviving.

About half an hour after he sends me away from his door, Isee Ron Washington in his driveway next to his white Infiniti SUV. He has abottle of Armor All next to him and a rag in his hand. I approach one more timeand hand him a piece of paper with my number on it. I apologize again and tellhim I’ll be in town for a day, and if he changes his mind to please give me acall.

“I probably won’t,” he says.

If you ask Washington’s neighbors why they think he comesback here, they say it’s because the neighborhood is a nice place to live. Kidscan ride their bikes and play outside after school, they say, and a lot ofneighborhoods nearby aren’t like that. There’s even a local security guard who circlesthe blocks in an old Crown Victoria. Sure, there are empty houses, but thatmeans it’s quiet.

And the truth is, he likes the anonymity. It’s nice to getrecognized by a baggage handler every once in a while, but most of his life hasbeen in the shadows of baseball. And the more people who know who he is, theweirder things get. He likes coming back here because this place reminds himwho he is. The winter is his. He gets to spend time with his wife. He likes tokeep the grass cut and the cars clean.

Before I go, I take another look at the house Ron Washingtonrebuilt. You could fit three, maybe four of this house into some homes inSouthlake, where his players live. I can’t help it.

“Mr. Washington,” I say, “after the storm, why didn’t youbuy a bigger house?”

He thinks about it and smiles. “One day,” he says, “we will.Right now, all the mansions in this town are destroyed. You do that, you justtaking on someone else’s problems. But some day.”

He has said before that he hopes he can be a part of baseballuntil his brain no longer functions. After the wonder that was last year, 2011seems destined to be a failure by comparison. There are injury worries andtrade demands and some big names not coming back. As always, there are concernsabout pitching. But for now, Ron Washington is content here, at home, washinghis car as the sun goes down in New Orleans.

2011-12-25T17:49:00.000-08:00

Strange stuff … in the 2011 postseason

The Cardinals' amazing playoff journey culminated in a memorable World Series win

The team that won the World Series led the league in near-death experiences. The team that lost the World Series picked the wrong night in October to come down with a serious case of Blown Save Fever. And the teams that sat home watching them had to be kicking themselves -- if only because they finally realized that they'd forgotten to trade for their very own Rally Squirrel.
In other words, it was one very crazy October. So let's look back at the Strange But True Feats of 2011 -- the Postseason Edition.

Strange but true team of the year

How strange was the championship journey of your 2011 World Series titleists, the Cardinals? Hoo boy. It's still hard to comprehend.

As late as 102 games into their season, they had a worse record than the Pirates. (OK, so it was by a thousandth of a percentage point. Whatever.)
As late as 89 games into their season, they had the same number of losses as the Mets.
As late as Labor Day, their run differential was 107 runs worse than the Red Sox.
They were 10½ games out of a playoff spot with 31 to play.
They were 8½ out in September.
They were still three games out with five to play.
They lost 25 games in their last at-bat.
They lost 11 games they led in the ninth inning or later.
They blew more saves (26) than 28 other teams.

They lost their best starting pitcher (Adam Wainwright) before they'd even played a spring training game
.
Their other stud starter (Chris Carpenter) had as many wins on June 22 (one) as Wilson Valdez. Who plays infield for a living.

Their relief pitchers got more outs in the NLCS (86) than their starters (73).
And, as you might have heard someplace, they were one strike away from losing the World Series in twice as many innings (i.e., two) as all previous 106 World Series champions in history put together.
So if ever there was a formula you wouldn't want to follow to try to win a World Series, here's a nomination for the way those 2011 Cardinals did it. Kids, don't try that at home!

Strange but true postseason game of the year

It was a postseason full of classic, magical and often downright crazy games. But is there any doubt which game towers above the rest? I saw Game 6 of the World Series with my very own eyeballs. I still don't believe stuff like this happened:

• The Cardinals have played 19,387 regular-season games in their history. Not once had they won a game in which they trailed five times. But that's the mess they overcame to win Game 6 -- when all that was riding on it was losing the World Series. That's all.

For that matter, according to the Elias Sports Bureau, only three teams in the last 40 years (2006 Red Sox, 1996 Red Sox, 1995 Cubs) have won a regular-season game in which they trailed at least five times. And no team had ever done that in a World Series game. But the Cardinals trailed in this game by scores of 1-0, 3-2, 4-3, 7-4 and 9-7 -- and won. Unreal.

• There had been 1,329 games in the history of postseason baseball before this one. Not once had a team scored in the eighth, ninth, 10th and 11th innings of the same game. But the Cardinals did it in this game. Of course they did!

• The Rangers blew two saves in their final 41 regular-season games combined. So of course, they then blew three saves in this game in the last six innings.

• Might as well mention that the Rangers had two MONTHS this year (June and September) when they didn't blow three saves. And they were working on a streak of 965 games (regular season and postseason), over six seasons, without ever blowing three save opportunities in one game until this extravaganza came along.

• Never had both teams homered in extra innings at any point during an entire Series. Then, naturally, each team homered in extra innings just in this GAME (Josh Hamilton in the 10th, David Freese in the 11th).

• There wasn't a game played in the big leagues during the entire regular season that featured extra-inning homers in two innings by two teams, according to the Sultan of Swat Stats, SABR home run historian David Vincent. And the Rangers hadn't played a game like that in 15 years. But it happened in this game.

• And, as we'll probably be reminding ourselves for about the next thousand years, only one team in history -- Mookie Wilson's '86 Mets -- had ever won a World Series after finding itself one strike away from The End of the Line. So naturally, these Cardinals got themselves to within one strike of defeat in the ninth and 10th innings -- and still went on to win the World Series. They didn't seem to know any other way. Did they?

Five strange but true October all-timers

• All four teams that advanced to the LCS -- the Cardinals, Brewers, Rangers and Tigers -- got outscored by the teams they played in the Division Series … and won. Hard to do, friendsNelson Cruz had as many homers in October (eight) as he had HITS in September (in 42 at-bats).

• Only one manager in the American League issued fewer intentional walks during the regular season than Ron Washington (21 all year). So he was pretty much the perfect candidate to become the first manager in American League HISTORY to issue nine intentional walks in a World Series. Right?

• Before this October, no player since Kirk Gibson (Game 1, '88) had come off the bench in a World Series game to drive in the go-ahead run with a pinch hit in the sixth inning or later. Then, naturally, Allen Craig did that for the Cardinals two days in a row -- against the same pitcher (Alexi Ogando) no less.

• And Tony La Russa made 75 pitching changes in the postseason. That means all those relievers he waved for spent a combined 3 hours, 45 minutes warming up!

Strange but true World Series nuttiness

• This was the third consecutive World Series to feature a Molina brother. So what's so strange about that? It was three different Molinas (Jose, then Bengie, then Yadier).In back-to-back-to-back at-bats in Games 6 and 7, David Freese hit a game-tying triple, game-winning homer and game-tying double. How incredible was that? Only one other time in World Series history had a player gotten game-tying or go-ahead hits in three consecutive trips to the plate. And naturally, it was Allen Craig, earlier in this same World Series.

• Only once in the last 30 regular seasons have the Cardinals scored at least 16 runs one game and gotten shut out the next. How many runs did they score in Game 4 of this World Series after putting up 16 in Game 3? That would be none -- despite the minor technicality that they were facing a pitcher (Derek Holland) who had just finished compiling an 8.59 ERA in the ALCS.

• Has there ever been a more insane stretch in any World Series than the middle three innings of Game 3? Starting in the top of the fourth inning, the Cardinals scored four times. Then the Rangers scored three times. Then the Cardinals scored three in the fifth -- and so did the Rangers. Whereupon the Cardinals put up yet another three-spot in the top of the sixth. Ever remember seeing five consecutive half-innings of three runs or more in a World Series game? Of course you don't -- because it's never happened.

• Finally, there was Albert Pujols' picturesque little box-score line in that very same Game 3: 6 AB, 4 R, 5 H, 6 RBIs, with three majestic homers and 14 total bases tossed in there just for fun. Feel free to stare at that line for as long as Albert stared at his long home runs, because in the entire live-ball era -- all nine decades of it -- there has been only one regular-season 6-4-5-6 three-homer game, by Dave Winfield against the Twins on April 13, 1991.

Strange but true playoff weirdness

• Delmon Young spent 4½ months with the Twins this year and hit four home runs. He played nine postseason games for the Tigers -- and hit five home runs.

• As my buddy Danny Knobler of CBSSports.com pointed out, the Royals got six home runs out of the No. 7 hole in their lineup all season. The Rangers got seven just in this postseason.

• Your ALCS MVP, Nelson Cruz, had eight extra-base hits in that LCS (six homers, two doubles) -- but never did mix in a single.

In Game 1s of this postseason, the Yankees, Tigers, Rangers, Phillies, Cardinals, Brewers and Diamondbacks started pitchers who had been around long enough to make a combined 1,469 regular-season starts in the big leagues, plus another 30 postseason starts. But the Rays had other plans (as always). They started Matt Moore in Game 1. How many big league games had he started in his life before that game? That would be one.

• So, naturally, Moore went out and threw seven shutout innings (giving up two hits), the first time any rookie starter had done that in a postseason game. So it took 107 years for it to happen once. It then took four days, of course, for it to happen a second time -- thanks to Arizona's Josh Collmenter.

• When Cliff Lee blew a 4-0 lead in the Phillies' 5-4 loss to the Cardinals in Game 2 of the NLDS, he did something he'd done only once before in his entire career. So he's now 94-2 in games in which his team handed him a lead of four runs or more. And, as loyal reader Rob Gottschalk reports, the winning pitcher in both of those losses was -- who else? -- Octavio Dotel.

• That wasn't the only mind-boggling development in Game 2 of that NLDS, however. The guy who started that game for the Cardinals, Chris Carpenter, had made more consecutive regular-season starts (174) without allowing three runs in the first inning than any other pitcher in the entire live-ball era. So what did he do in his first postseason inning that day? Give up three in the first to the Phillies. Naturally.

• No team since 1900 had hit a grand slam in four straight home games, in either the regular season or postseason. Then along came the 2011 Diamondbacks. They launched slams in their last two home games of the regular season, then went slamming again in their first two home games in October. Before that, they'd never even hit a slam at home in four consecutive MONTHS in the history of their franchise.

• The Phillies lost three games in the Division Series, and in two of them, they scored at least twice in the first inning. So guess how many games the Phillies lost all season after April 15 when they scored more than once in the first inning? Not once, of course.

• Tigers set-up man Al Alburquerque faced 189 hitters this season. And what did those 189 hitters have in common? Not one of them hit a home run off him. Want to guess what happened on Alburquerque's second pitch of the postseason? Right you are. He served up a grand slam to Robinson Cano.

Before this October, Roy Halladay had started 380 games, regular-season and postseason. He'd given up a three-run first-inning homer in precisely one of them (to Mike Lowell in 2006). So what did Doc Halladay do in the first inning of this postseason? What do you think he did? He allowed a three-run homer to Lance Berkman.

• Finally, on the first day of the regular season at Yankee Stadium, your starting pitching matchup was CC Sabathia versus Justin Verlander. Six months later, on the first day of the postseason at Yankee Stadium, your starting pitching matchup was (yep) CC Sabathia versus Justin Verlander. How strange -- but absolutely true -- was that?

The Real Story behind 10 Cent Beer Night

2011-11-23T15:18:00.000-08:00

It was a night when fans were admitted to the bleachers at old Cleveland Stadium for 50 cents. It also was a night when a 12-ounce cup of beer was sold for a dime. What could you buy for 60 cents? Try six cups of beer, the purchase limit for one person. How's that for restraint? You are limited to a mere six cups ... 72 ounces ... of beer. Of course, you could get into another line at another concession stand and buy six more beers, assuming you had another 60 cents. So for $1.70, you could buy a bleacher seat to a Tribe-Texas Rangers game ... and drink a dozen beers.

"But it was only 3.2 [percent alcohol] beer," the Indians would later plead, as if it were unsweetened Kool-Aid. It was June 4, 1974. Joe was calling the game on the radio with Herb Score.

Most Tribe fans know what happened. Drunken fans stormed the field in the ninth inning, starting a riot. The game was suspended. But for several innings before that, drunken fans staggered onto the field. This was in the era of streakers, and a few folks shed their clothes and dashed across the outfield. At one point, a gallon jug of Thunderbird -- yes, someone smuggled a gallon jug of cheap wine into Beer Night -- was heaved out of the stands and landed near Texas first baseman Mike Hargrove. Yes, that's the same Mike Hargrove who later played for and managed the Indians. Joe watched it all, and when remembering it 36 years later, he shook his head and said: "I was sick to my stomach. It was the worst thing that I ever saw during a broadcast." This is not to stumble down memory lane of a beer-soaked event that lives in infamy in the memory of many Cleveland fans. It's to tell the story behind the story

"I called Beer Night a riot," said Joe. "I said it was 'a disgrace to the game and to the Indians.' I said the Indians 'have only themselves to blame because it was a STUPID promotion. ... Members of the front office left early.'" Joe paused and shook his head again. "When I first heard about the 10-cent promotion, I knew it was stupid," Joe said. "Whoever is going to show up for 10-cent Beer Night was going to be there to get drunk. If he's not drunk before he gets there, he will be when he leaves. ... We first had two streakers ... then five streakers. ... I think I counted about 20 by the end of the game. ... Never knew why, but running around naked was a big deal back then."

Umpire Nestor Chylak called the game in the ninth inning, awarding a victory to Texas. By then, fans were on the field, trying to steal caps, gloves and anything else they could from the players. Some threw up on the grass, a few passed out.

"Even Herbie [Score] said this was getting totally out of hand," said Joe. "Then we saw some of the Indians hierarchy bailing out in the sixth inning.

It got serious when a fan took [Texas outfielder] Jeff Burroughs' cap. Burroughs ducked and sort of stumbled. ... [Texas manager] Billy Martin was worried about Burroughs, and he came out of the dugout with a fungo bat. A bunch of players went with him.

"Fans stormed the field ..." Joe shook his head yet again. "Fans were swinging chains -- don't ask me where they got to chains from. They broke off pieces of chairs ... [Indians manager] Ken Aspromonte led his players to the field, and you had the picture of the Indians and Texas players fighting together, retreating back into the first base dugout ... [Tribe pitcher] Tom Hilgendorf had his head split open when someone threw a chair out of the upper deck and it hit him."

The national publicity was horrible, a game in Cleveland destroyed by a bunch of beer-soaked fans. The team had a ridiculous promotion and not much extra security. "[Tribe President] Ted Bonda wanted me fired because I called it a riot," said Joe.

"Well, it was a RIOT. The only reason that it wasn't a worse RIOT is because I called it a RIOT on the radio, and a bunch of police heard me, and they came down to the Stadium to see what was going on. Some of them told me that they called the station house and said they better send reinforcements down to the Stadium to check it out."

So when Bonda confronted Joe about calling it a riot, Joe said, "That's because it was a RIOT!" Joe said it's important to remember what life was like for Cleveland in the 1970s. "Every week, the Laugh-In show did Cleveland jokes," he said. "It was when the mayor's hair caught on fire, the Cuyahoga River caught on fire. Cleveland was a butt of national jokes."

And then there was Beer Night. Plain Dealer columnist Hal Lebovitz wrote this: "Joe Tait, who is going to get a National Basketball Association referee killed some night with his highly charged criticisms, didn't help on the Indians play-by-play broadcasts by his repeated huckstering 'Come out to Beer Night and let's stick it in Billy Martin's ear.'"

Reading the story 36 years later, Joe said, "What I said on the air was, 'Let's make a lot of noise and stick it in Billy Martin's ear.' For that, he wanted to blame me for what happened." The Indians had a few near brawls with Martin's Rangers before Beer Night when they played in Texas. Martin had said his team had nothing to worry about when they came to Cleveland "because nobody goes to the games." He didn't know about Beer Night.

Lebovitz wrote: "The impression may not have been one that Joe intended, but that's the inference the listeners got. Thus, Joe, with his high-voltage delivery, conceivably helped create an atmosphere that led to the final scene." Joe countered with a charge about a cartoon in Lebovitz's own sports section of an Indian holding boxing gloves, as if preparing to fight the Texas players.

Lebovitz came back with a second column, admitting the problem was not the cartoon or Joe's remarks. It was "only because the fuel was there ... the alcohol. Without the fuel, it's impossible to have a fire."

The Indians sold 65,000 beers that night. Lebovitz estimated the average adult had about five beers. Bonda wanted to fire Joe to take the heat off what had happened on his watch. He was team president. The team was being ripped by nearly every media outlet across the country.

Comedians used it for an endless series of jokes. "Nick Mileti owned the team back then," said Joe. "He was out of town during the riot. He came back, talked to me on the phone about what happened. He talked to the ushers, the police and the players -- anyone he could who was at the game. He also listened to the tape of the broadcast. He told Bonda something along the lines of 'I can't see anything wrong with what Joe said. It obviously was a riot.' That was it. I kept my job."

Joe said he listened to the game tape "several times. ... I don't regret a thing I said." Then Joe remembered this story, meeting Chylak. They talked about Beer Night, and the umpire mentioned how the Indians were down, 5-0, then came back to tie up the game.

"Joe, I figured as long as they're not shooting or anything like that, we'll get it done," said Chylak. "All of a sudden, I felt some pressure behind the left heel of my shoe. I turned around, looked down and there was a hunting knife sticking in the ground right behind my shoe. That's when I said, 'Game. Set. Match. We're outta here!'"

World Series 2011 - Historic Game 6 and series

2011-10-29T18:14:00.000-07:00

ST. LOUIS, Mo. -- Fans climbed the bronze statue outside of Busch Stadium on Friday night to have their picture taken at the feet of Stan "The Man" Musial as the celebration roiled and rocked around them. On the base of the statue are engraved these words, "Here stands baseball's perfect warrior. Here stands baseball's perfect knight."

The days of perfect knights in baseball have gone the way of Camelot and King Arthur's round table. But what about a World Series of perfect nights? If not perfect, then seven that range from good to great?

Maybe Friday's Game 7, in which St. Louis clinched its 11th World Series title with a 6-2 victory over Texas, fell flat. But we will always have Game 6, in which Texas dropped five leads, which meant St. Louis rallied five times before finally winning, 10-9, on David Freese's leadoff homer in the 11th to avoid elimination and make Friday night a reality.

The Nineth: 98 mph Neftali Feliz and David Frese HR

It wasn't just Freese's walkoff homer that made the night, it was his game-tying, season-saving, two-run, two-out, two-strike triple off a 98 mph fastball from Neftali Feliz in the ninth inning.

Turns out that was just the appetizer.

The Tenth: God Told Me and the Lance of Destiny

In the top of the 10th, on a mission from God, Josh Hamilton hit a two-run homer off closer Jason Motte to put Texas back in front, 9-7. Hamilton told reporters after the game that God told him he was going to homer in Game 6.

"But he didn't say we'd win," Hamilton conceded.

In the bottom of the 10th, with Texas still leading, 9-8, the Cardinals were once again down to their final strike. Scott Feldman had a 2-2 count on Lance Berkman, who was not enjoying himself.
"It's not fun to go up there with the season on the line," said Berkman.

He put his feelings aside long enough to bloop a single into center field to tie the score and ensure that Freese would get a chance to bat in the 11th. When it was over, after Freese sent a 3-2 pitch from Mark Lowe over the center field fence, Berkman had a firm hold on the moment
.
"The reality is that if we don't win Game 7, then this just becomes a footnote to a nice season," said Berkman. "But if we win, this is the stuff of legends."

The Eleventh

Enough said. This joins Joe Carter (1993), Kirby Puckett (1991), Carlton Fisk (1975) as one of the best Game 6 of the World Series with memorable walkoff HRs, short of Game 7 Bill Mazeroski (1960) legend.

No burning cars

The Cardinals, who didn't make the postseason until the final day of the regular season, can consider themselves legends. Their fans certainly do. The St. Louis faithful were still packed into Musial Plaza at least two hours after the game. When a Cardinals official walked by carrying the World Series trophy along the second deck of the ballpark, they spotted him and cheered.

The crowd snaked along Stadium Drive, up to Mike Shannon's Bar and Grill. The joint wasn't just packed, it was overflowing into an elbow-to-elbow crowd on the street. Music blared, cops and beer cans were everywhere. A guy on a makeshift set of drums pounded away.

Market Street, a main drag through the heart of downtown, was at a standstill going and coming. Cars were bumper-to-bumper blowing their horns. People walking up and down the exchanging high fives with strangers. The police had portions of the street blocked off, but no one seemed to mind.
It was loud and friendly. No cars were burning. The Cardinals have been to 18 World Series. This was their second title in five years. They know how to celebrate.

Said Freese, "These fans are the best."

Freese not only won the World Series MVP, but the NLCS MVP as well. In the World Series he hit .348 (8-for-24) with three doubles, one triple, one homer and seven RBI. In the postseason, he hit .397 (25-for-63) with eight doubles, one triple, five homers and a record 21 RBI. If he didn't get the World Series MVP, St. Louis was going to give him The Arch.

Now for the topper. Freese grew up just outside of St. Louis rooting for the Cardinals. When they acquired him from San Diego for Cardinal icon Jim Edmonds, his buddies kept asking him, "Who else did we get for Edmonds?"

Was Game 6 the greatest World Series game ever played? Maybe, but St. Louis did make three errors in the early going.

Pujols, Reggie and the Babe/ Pujols, Matsui and Bobby Richardson

While that is a debatable matter, there can be no denial that Albert Pujols' performance in Game 3 was the best single offensive game in World Series history. Not only was he just the third man in World Series history to hit three homers in one game, he had five hits, six RBI and 14 total bases.

The homers, hits and RBI tied World Series records. The 14 total bases set a World Series record.
Game 7 could have been Pujols' last as a Cardinal. He's a free agent this winter, which means the soap opera will soon begin. Before Game 7, Commissioner Bud Selig said he hoped that Pujols stayed in St. Louis.

After Friday's game, Pujols was asked about his plans. "I'm just going to enjoy the moment," he said.
Regarding the 107th World Series, he'll have a lot of company.

World Series Game 5 - This kind of thing is supposed to happen to the Tribe, not the stately Cardinals as they try to win their 11th World Series championship.

2011-10-28T15:41:00.000-07:00

ST. LOUIS, Mo. -- For the second straight day manager Tony La Russa came bearing answers to explain how his Cardinals lost Game 5 of the World Series Monday night.

No matter how much he talked, or how eloquently he pleaded his case, St. Louis is still facing elimination Wednesday night in Game 6 at Busch Stadium.

All this because of a couple of phone conversations between La Russa and bullpen coach Derek Lilliquist in Arlington went terribly wrong. It's so confusing, and so unexpected of the precise and detailed La Russa, that at any minute a new version of Abbott and Costello's "Who's on First" routine could break out.

Here's what happened.

The 8th: Rzepczynski and Motte

In a game tied at 2-2, Michael Young opened the eighth with a double off Cardinals reliever Octavio Dotel, who struck out Adrian Beltre and intentionally walked Nelson Cruz after a visit by pitching coach Dave Duncan.

While that was going on, La Russa said he called Lilliquist and told him to get lefty Marc Rzepczynski and righty Jason Motte ready. Lilliquist heard Rzepczynski's name, but said he never heard La Russa say Motte.

"The first mention of Motte was probably after he (Lilliquist) hung up," said La Russa. "Maybe I didn't say it quickly enough."

Weird Hop and bounce

Rzepczynski replaced Dotel to face lefty David Murphy. On cue, Murphy sent a potential double-play ball back to the mound, but it took a weird hop and bounced off Rzepczynski's body for a hit, loading the bases. La Russa's next move was to bring in Motte, who can throw close to 100 mph, to face Mike Napoli, the Rangers' right-handed power-hitting catcher.

Lance 'emergency' Lynn, Rzepcynski and Motte
Before heading to the mound, La Russa looked into the Cardinals bullpen and didn't see Motte throwing. He called Lilliquist again to get Motte ready. But Lilliquist thought La Russa requested Lance Lynn, another right-hander. Lynn wasn't supposed to pitch except for an emergency.
La Russa was caught.

"There is no way you can stall long enough to get him ready," said La Russa, even though it was Lynn, not Motte, who was starting to loosen.

So Rzepczynski had to face Napoli, who hit .319 against lefties during the regular season. Napoli doubled into the right-field gap on a 1-1 pitch to score two runs. After Rzepczynski struck out Mitch Moreland, La Russa went to the mound thinking Motte was finally going to enter the game.
Wrong again.

'Emergency' Lynn emerges

As La Russa waited on the mound, Lynn jogged in from the pen.

"When he got to the mound, I said, 'What are you doing here?'" said La Russa.

He then ordered Lynn to intentionally walk Ian Kinsler to reload the bases because he didn't want to risk Lynn injuring his arm. At last, he was able to hand the ball to Motte, who struck out Elvis Andrus. Not only was it too little, but it was far too late.

La Russa took the blame.

"I told Derek, 'Believe me, this is not your problem,'" said La Russa.

But the fact that Lilliquist at one time pitched for the Indians seems to put things into perspective. This kind of thing is supposed to happen to the Tribe, not the stately Cardinals as they try to win their 11th World Series championship.

All in all, this was not a postseason game that covered La Russa in glory.

The Cardinals stranded 12 runners and went 1-for-12 with runners in scoring position. Texas pitchers tied a World Series record by issuing four intentional walks, three to Albert Pujols. Every time Texas manager Ron Washington displayed four fingers, he escaped without a run being scored.

Who should call 'Hit-and-Runs'?

The 7th: The game offered a revealing look at how much freedom Pujols has under La Russa. Allen Craig walked with one out in the seventh against Alexi Ogando. Pujols flashed him the hit-and-run sign. Craig took off on the next pitch and was thrown out by Napoli. Pujols didn't offer at the high fastball from Ogando and was intentionally walked for the third time.

"Albert has had the ability for several years to put the hit-and-run on," said La Russa.
La Russa said Pujols has earned that because of his talent and baseball smarts. It will be interesting to see if Pujols gets the same freedom should he bolt St. Louis through free agency.

The 9th: In the ninth, it was La Russa, not Pujols, who called for a run-and-hit with Craig on first and Pujols batting. Trailing, 4-2, he was trying to create a first-and-third situation with no outs. Instead La Russa ended up with a strike-'em out, throw 'em-out double play.

It was that kind of night.

On Twitter: @hoynsie

Irabu Got Lost on the Road Back - NY Times

2011-10-13T18:12:00.000-07:00

By KEN BELSON Published: October 8, 2011 It was the kind of inquiry that curious pitchers make, even ones with World Series rings. How, Hideki Irabu wanted to know, do you throw a changeup? Jerry Spradlin, his pitching coach on the Long Beach Armada in the spring of 2009, was all too happy to show him. A former journeyman major league reliever, he was a newcomer to coaching and was eager to share some of what he knew, even something as basic as a changeup with a pitcher once called the Nolan Ryan of Japan. The lesson was impromptu and informal, typical of the way things were done on the Armada, an independent league team that served as a halfway house for older players making last-ditch comebacks and younger players still hoping to make it as professionals. With the help of an interpreter, Spradlin showed the grip to Irabu, who threw about 10 warm-up pitches in the bullpen before his start that day. Even though he was 40 and a former Yankee, Irabu was an attentive student. He was also a quick study. He struck out the side in order during the first inning using his new pitch to put away the batters. “He clearly had something left in the tank,” Spradlin said with a chuckle. As per tradition at Armada games, the fans passed the hat to reward players for their feats. Irabu had made millions during his career and did not need the $300 that reached the dugout. Some players wanted to give it back to the fans while others thought they should split it among themselves. Garry Templeton, the team’s manager, felt otherwise. He told Irabu where the money had come from, and without hesitation, Irabu told him it should be spent on food and beer for the team. The clubhouse attendant was dispatched to a store for provisions. “We had a party on him,” Templeton said. Two years later, Irabu, 42, was found hanging in his house in Rancho Palos Verdes, Calif., an upscale Los Angeles suburb. At some level, all suicides are mysteries. Irabu apparently left no note, but he had his troubles. He was known to drink heavily at times. His wife and two children had moved out weeks before. His two noodle restaurants had closed, and he was casting about for something else to do. “When I saw him last summer, he told me he was having a midlife crisis,” said George Rose, who befriended Irabu when he worked for two years as his interpreter on the Yankees. Rose then repeated what had been a kind of conventional wisdom about the Irabu: he had a big heart, but could be his own worst enemy. Irabu, for sure, had seemed to battle demons throughout his meteoric rise and fall. A No. 1 draft pick in Japan, he was best known for his record-setting fastball, and his temper off the field. Even during his best years in the mid-1990s, he had a love-hate relationship with the news media, which needled him by writing about his mixed heritage, a taboo in Japan. He called some Japanese reporters locusts. He was eager to play in the United States, but he bucked the baseball establishment by refusing to be traded to the San Diego Padres, despite their generous contract offer. Instead, he held out until the Yankees could sign him, and he received a hero’s welcome in New York. He twice was named the American League pitcher of the month, but he faded late in seasons. His moodiness, injuries and weight problems led George Steinbrenner to call him a fat toad, a stinging tag that he could not shake. He returned to Japan in 2003 and helped the Hanshin Tigers win the Central League pennant for the first time in nearly two decades, a redemption of sorts. But the next year, the injuries piled up and he retired after pitching in three games. His time with the Armada in 2009, then, turned out to be Irabu’s last attempt to recapture his love of the game and to fulfill some of his unmet expectations. But like many things Irabu did, his time on the Armada came with conditions. He was with the team only on days when he pitched, and he went to those games with a personal assistant and an interpreter. Because of his limited English, his teammates had little sense of Irabu as a person. Some of the players, chiefly those who had never had a whiff of the major leagues, were in awe of Irabu nonetheless. But they could also be irked that Irabu kept his distance. “To get to know him as a teammate or friend was nearly impossible,” said Scott Lonergan, a starting pitcher that year who now works as a scout with the Padres. “He didn’t come off as a prima donna. There was no sense that he was better than anyone. It was a strict business transaction. He would show up, pitch and leave.” A Toss Leads to a QuestIrabu’s road back to baseball began with a bit of serendipity. In 2007, a Japanese television crew visited Irabu in California to see how he was faring nearly three years into his retirement. They visited his restaurants, followed him as he rode his three-wheel motorbike and filmed him on a sandlot field in Torrance, obligingly tossing a ball in jeans and flip flops. Irabu had not pitched in several years, but he seemed genuinely pleased that his knee did not hurt and that his arm felt good. The pitching session was brief, but it planted a seed in Irabu’s mind that he might just have a shot at returning to baseball, according to Don Nomura, his longtime agent. “He just picked up a ball and fired the hell out of it,” Nomura said by phone from Japan. Nomura did not give it much thought, but a year or so later, Irabu started working out with two other players. Takateru Iyono, who was Irabu’s teammate in Japan, traveled to Los Angeles to seek guidance from his sempai, or elder, on how to revive his career. They recruited Hajime Nishimura, who had played on a Japanese industrial league team and moved to Los Angeles to pursue an acting career, to be a personal catcher. He now is a youth baseball coach. While training with Iyono at the M.L.B. Urban Youth Academy in Compton, a gritty part of Los Angeles, Irabu began to take his conditioning more seriously. Tentative at first, he gained confidence when his knee showed no signs of faltering. So in early 2009, with Iyono having left, Irabu picked up the pace. Each weekday, he took two half-hour whirlpool baths in the morning. Nishimura would arrive at 10 a.m. to work on fielding and pitching for two hours. Then they would go for a vegetable-heavy lunch before Irabu returned to the academy to take another bath. The regimen helped Irabu shed more than 40 pounds, buoying his spirits. “At first, I wondered if he could do it,” Nishimura said. “But he was very serious about baseball. He loved the game and didn’t think about how old he was. As long as he could play, he wanted to play.” With the season approaching, Nomura discussed the options with Irabu. It would be hard to find a major league club in the United States that would sign an aging pitcher who had not played in years. But with his mix of pitches, big-league savvy and brand name, Nomura thought that Irabu could become a useful reliever in Japan. The easiest shot at reaching that goal would be for Irabu to showcase his talents in an independent league, where the barriers for entry were lower and teams and fans were used to seeing aging stars give it one last go. The Golden Baseball League was the best fit. Each team had a handful of former major leaguers. The league also had links to Japan, including the Samurai Bears, a traveling team that had been stocked with Japanese players and managed by Warren Cromartie, a former major leaguer who played for the Yomiuri Giants. Always on the lookout for budding talent regardless of the potential guffaws, the league recruited Eri Yoshida, a Japanese teenager known as the Knuckle Princess for her signature pitch. She pitched last season in Maui, Hawaii. The league also had teams in Orange County and Long Beach, which would allow Irabu to live at home during his comeback. So in April, Nomura’s Los Angeles-based assistant, Toshi Hoshino, set up a tryout with Templeton. The session went well. “He wasn’t throwing 98 anymore, but he had the experience and the other pitches,” said Kevin Outcalt, the commissioner of the league, which also owned the Armada. “You don’t often get a player of his caliber.” A Pop-In Pitcher Outcalt was so impressed that he agreed to a contract that allowed Irabu to show up only on days when he pitched at home games. It would force Templeton to find an extra starter when the team was on the road, and knock other pitchers one game back in the rotation when they returned home. Still, Outcalt thought that the concessions were worth it because Irabu, he hoped, would be a big draw, especially with Japanese fans in the Los Angeles area. That could help the struggling club. It was a standard formula: mix hungry young players with a sprinkling of recognizable former major leaguers, add theatrics and keep prices affordable. In fact, Rickey Henderson spent a season in the league and Jose Canseco had played on the Armada, which used Blair Field, an aging stadium in Long Beach. Irabu’s teammates were paid depending on their experience, with some of the highest salaries hitting about $1,500 a month. Many players had not been drafted out of college and needed a place to play until they could be noticed by a major league organization. That meant playing in front of small crowds in places like Chico, Calif., and Yuma, Ariz. Despite their grumbling, no players were openly hostile to Irabu. His teammates recall that Irabu would show up an hour or so before his scheduled starts and disappear from the clubhouse before the last out. Some players spotted him between innings smoking cigarettes in the shower. When he was on the bench, few players had more than passing conversations with him, even though Nishimura was there to interpret. Sean Buller, a pitcher on the team who became the pitching coach halfway through the season, said no one on the team directly challenged Irabu and his seeming diffidence. Everyone, he said, had their own hopes, and did not want them damaged by possibly causing dissension. Despite the enigmatic attitude, Buller said of Irabu, “I feel bad because we never got close.” Good-Natured Needling The only teammate who felt compelled to communicate with Irabu was Jose Lima, a former all-star pitcher on the Los Angeles Dodgers who was also attempting a comeback. In many ways, he was Irabu’s polar opposite: funny, lively, involved and generous. He would sing the national anthem before his starts, take teammates to Dodgers games, serenade them with his guitar and chart their pitches on his days off. He was perhaps the only person with enough stature to needle Irabu, and he did not miss the chance. About an hour before the Armada were to play the Scorpions in Yuma, Irabu had still not shown up. (Irabu pitched twice on the road because the parks were within driving distance of his home.) Typically, the manager or coach would give that night’s starting pitcher the ball to be used to start the game. It was a bit of ceremony, but Irabu was nowhere to be seen that night. So Lima took the ball, put it in a clear plastic baggie, taped it to the clubhouse wall and wrote, Irabu #?, on the tape. Irabu chuckled when he showed up, then he threw five innings, gave up four runs and struck out six to earn the win. Another time, someone left a sign at Irabu’s locker that had a picture of two Japanese businessmen laughing with the words, ROR: Raugh out Roud. Some said Irabu got the joke. The club tried to make the most of Irabu’s occasional, mercurial presence. Josh Feldman, who organized on-field entertainment at home games, invited some Japanese drummers to perform as part of an Irabu Mania night. At another game, performers from a local martial arts academy broke boards, including some that they had set on fire. In Japan, One Last ChanceBy early August, Irabu had compiled a respectable but not overwhelming record given the competition. In 10 starts, he was 5-3 with a 3.58 earned run average and 66 strikeouts in 65 1/3 innings. Like his time in the major leagues, Irabu had some games in which he was unhittable, and other games when his control eluded him. Still, after several years away from organized baseball, he was happy to be back in uniform and on the field. “He was having a good time and enjoyed playing baseball again,” said Hoshino, who videotaped his starts from behind home plate. “He was really excited to take the next step.” That next step came partly as a result of Japanese reporters who had come to see Irabu pitch in Long Beach. He received an offer to pitch for the Fighting Dogs in Kochi, on the island of Shikoku, a backwater by Japanese baseball standards. Independent leagues are relatively new in Japan, where high schools, colleges and industrial leagues provide most of the young talent for the top teams. Even so, Irabu’s reputation in Japan was still strong, so he stood a better chance of catching the attention of a Japanese big-league club by playing in Kochi than if he remained in California. It was a brief stay. His first start went as well as could be expected. In seven innings, he gave up three runs, walking five and striking out three. About three times the usual crowd showed up for the game, and replica Irabu jerseys and shirts were on sale. His second start was a step back. Irabu lasted five innings and gave up five runs. Afterward, an inflamed right thumb effectively ended his season and, it turned out, his professional baseball career and his time in the public’s eye. With baseball now a fading memory, Irabu returned to Los Angeles, where he looked for things to do. Coaching was one option, but without a strong command of English, he had a hard time finding work. He appeared occasionally at clinics and talked of getting into movies someday. But none of it amounted to much. Earlier this year, his wife and two children moved out of their home. They had become acculturated to American life, leaving him more isolated, friends said. And he never picked up a baseball for the Armada again. “He was kind of searching for what to do next,” said George Rose, his old interpreter, “and he never did.”

Ohio Baseball

2011-05-22T03:30:00.000-07:00

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Cleveland, the lake town, is a football town. Fans here love their Browns, an inept franchise for a generation. They treated the team's absence for three seasons in the 1990s as a civic identity crisis.

Clevelanders care about the Indians, complain bitterly about the team's owners, the Dolan family, and overload the bandwagon when the team is good.

Cincinnati, the river town, is a baseball town. Fans there love their Reds, although much of the attendance comes from across the Ohio River in Kentucky and from the hamlets of Indiana and West Virginia.

Cincinnatians care about the Bengals, an inept franchise for a generation, complain bitterly about the team's owner, Mike Brown, and overload the bandwagon when the team is good.

The Reds began the only interleague series that really matters in Ohio when they met the Indians on Friday night in Progressive Field.

Only Ohio, Illinois (White Sox and Cubs) and Pennsylvania (Phillies and Pirates) can stage an interleague series featuring teams that date back to the gaslight and horseless carriage era. In the Reds' case, the city's baseball history dates back to the very beginning of the professional game in 1869.

Both cities have had difficulties with names and mascots.

Cleveland dropped the first "a" in founder Moses Cleaveland's name and uses a mascot for the Indians that many find offensive and term "Little Red Sambo."

Cincinnati's original name was Losantiville.

Bad as that is, it would have been much worse had the Red Stockings' name been changed -- as it almost was because of the city's nickname of "Porkopolis," for the 19th century pig-slaughtering trade there -- to "Porkopolitans."

Cincinnati is staunchly Republican. When the Red Scare dominated politics in this country in the 1950s, lest anybody get the wrong idea about Soviet spies in the lineup, the team's name was changed to "Redlegs."

Cleveland is corruption-ridden and Democratic.

Both cities are historically blue collar, although Cleveland is more so now than Cincinnati. Both cities are predominately Catholic, with Notre Dame enjoying a strong following in each. The wife of former Cleveland Mayor Ralph Perk turned down a White House invitation because it was on her bowling night. Former Cincinnatian and star of the silver screen Tyrone Power offered to fund a gymnasium at Purcell High School, Roger Staubach's alma mater. The school said no because Power was divorced.

The Reds lost a great icon, albeit one shared with Detroit, when former manager Sparky Anderson died late last year.

The Indians lost a great icon who was all our own when former pitcher Bob Feller died late last year.

Pete Rose, a native Cincinnatian, is still considered a wronged man in his hometown, despite his own admission that he bet on his team as Reds manager. Reds fans also loved national embarrassment Marge Schott (maiden name: Unnewehr, pronounced "unaware"), when she owned the Reds because she was a local girl.

Indians fans defended Albert Belle to the last ditch -- until he left. The most popular Browns player of the last quarter-century was Bernie Kosar, from Boardman, Ohio, near Youngstown, for the simple reason that he wanted to be here.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow called Cincinnati "the Queen City of the West" and Winston Churchill called it "the most beautiful inland city in America." Cleveland was not called either.

Cleveland has a world-class orchestra and art museum. The Creation Museum, archenemy of evolution, is near the Cincinnati airport, which is located in Kentucky.

Cincinnati college fans look to the Southeastern Conference and the University of Kentucky, more than to the Big Ten and Ohio State.

Cincinnati and Toledo, which is at least split between Ohio State and Michigan, are the only cities in Ohio in which the Buckeyes do not dominate the college sports conversation.

Cleveland is Columbus North in some ways, sending more students and players to Ohio State than any city but Columbus. Important OSU games draw higher television ratings here than in any city but Columbus.

The Indians are more popular statewide with younger fans, who remember the great teams of the 1990s. Older fans skew to the Reds because of their memories of the dynastic Big Red Machine in the '70s.

Both cities appreciate players who play hard and are not afraid to get dirty. Rose was loved by Reds fans, Johnny Bench and Ken Griffey Jr. less so. Browns fans love the smash-mouth style of Peyton Hillis because he's a younger Rose with bigger muscles.

People work hard in both cities. Slackers on teams are reviled. If asked "What do George S. Patton, the Exxon Valdez and LeBron James have in common?" many Clevelanders would say, "All three were tankers."

Somebody has been ferreting out some serious talent lately for both teams. The Indians and Reds are good now, and young besides that. They are at or near the top of their divisions to boot, with the Indians having the best record in baseball. The rivals will play again in Cincinnati at the start of July.

It is not inconceivable that they could meet yet again in October.

Follow Bill Livingston on Facebook and on Twitter @LivyPD

A toast to Tom Wilhelmsen

2011-04-16T10:01:00.000-07:00

A toast to Tom Wilhelmsen - Seven years after walking away, ex-bartender makes big league debut with Mariners By Jim Caple
ESPN.com

Seattle Mariners reliever Tom Wilhelmsen

Ex-bartender Tom Wilhelmsen on Opening Day, how to make a "Fat Man."
Tags: Tom WilhelmsenSeattle Mariners reliever Tom Wilhelmsen
The Hut is a popular live music/tiki bar in Tucson near the University of Arizona campus. You enter the bar by walking under a 45-foot-high tiki head that formerly reigned over a local miniature golf course. The bar's interior is a former metal fabrication plant where workers made bomb casings in World War II, a heritage The Hut honors with its signature cocktail. Named after the first atomic bomb, the Fat Man is a 60-ounce drink served in a fishbowl and swimming in the maximum alcohol amount allowed by Arizona law.

There was a three-day music festival at The Hut this past weekend, but as soon as one band finished its set Friday night, the bar turned down the music and turned up the Mariners' home opener from Seattle. Bar regulars and employees turned their focus from their Fat Men and beers to focus on the TV screens as Seattle reliever Tom Wilhelmsen took the mound to face the Cleveland Indians lineup. The season is one week old, Seattle is about 1,600 miles away, the Mariners are trailing 6-0 and Wilhelmsen is in the process of making it 11-0, but the bar crowd is going crazy, spirits rising and falling with his every pitch.

As recently as December, Tom Wilhelmsen was mixing drinks and pouring beer at a bar in Tucson, Ariz.

"It was like we were watching a University of Arizona basketball game," says Scott Mencke, a co-partner of The Hut. "The people here were overreacting to everything. If Tom threw a strike, people cheered like crazy. When he gave up the home run, people were bent over double." And when Wilhelmsen ended the 10-run inning by striking out Austin Kearns? "It was like Miles Simon just hit the game winner in the NCAA championship [in 1997]. We were all giving high-fives.

"We had people from out of town who came for the music, and they're probably wondering, 'What are these Tucsonians doing, going nuts over this Mariners game?'"

Well, that's easy to explain. These people were simply excited to see a friend and fellow bartender who had mixed Fat Men and poured beer at The Hut as recently as December take another step in baseball's most delightfully unlikely comeback story that doesn't include Dennis Quaid as a high school science teacher/baseball coach.

One month after bicycling to daily spring training workouts, one year after pitching in Class A, two years after playing center field in a co-rec softball league, five years after backpacking around Europe and seven years after leaving organized baseball for a career mixing Fat Men, Wilhelmsen was pitching in the major leagues.

"It's a little different from the beer league we were playing softball in," says Wilhelmsen, who grew up in Tucson. "I ultimately knew this day would come, but I didn't realize it would come this quick. But it's a great feeling."

A great feeling? This story leaves you feeling better than a free round of Fat Men.

"You can just say it's a miracle," Seattle third baseman Chone Figgins says. "It's one of those miracle situations."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wilhelmsen, 27, is a tall, broad-shouldered young man who is quick to flash a smile bright enough to power U2's entire 360° tour. He is animated and engaging and said to have a very impressive collection of tie-dyed shirts. "Holy [Fill in the blank]" is a favorite expression, with the "Holy" drawn out and stressed. Hole-Ley.

“
I was very disappointed for years. People would say, 'He'll be back, he'll be back.' I would be like, 'I don't know. You have to want it.' After about three years I would tell people, 'No, he's never coming back.'

”
-- Tom Wilhelmsen's father, John

"I'm not exaggerating at all: He is the nicest guy you'll meet in your life," Mencke says. "He's beyond nice. He cares about people; he's empathetic to people. He's fair, he's honest, but he's also a personality."

"He is the salt of the earth," says Douglas "Fini" Finical, The Hut's other operating partner. "What you see is what you get. He's a gregarious guy, very open. … There's sort of a displaced hippie in him. He loves the Grateful Dead. I see him as a guy who would be just as happy living in 1968. One of those people who is completely genuine. Just completely original and genuine."

And once upon a time, Wilhelmsen also was a promising, hard-throwing right-hander in the Milwaukee Brewers system. A seventh-round pick in the 2003 draft, he went 5-5 with a 2.76 ERA at Class A Beloit in 2003. But he also was a free spirit who twice tested positive for marijuana. The Brewers responded to the second test by suspending him for the 2004 season.

The next year Wilhelmsen effectively suspended himself by giving up his baseball career to travel and hike our national parks. He says he was burned out on baseball and no longer had the passion for the game he once did.

"My first immediate thought was to pull a Mutt Mantle and go wring this kid by his neck and go take him home. That lasted about 30 minutes," says his father and former coach, John Wilhelmsen. "Then it was: 'You know, it's his life.' No matter what your kids do, you're going to love them no matter what. What does the other stuff mean? I knew he wasn't into it anymore because he didn't do anything in the offseason. He would usually work out or ask me to throw with him.

"I was very disappointed for years. People would say, 'He'll be back, he'll be back.' I would be like, 'I don't know. You have to want it.' After about three years I would tell people, 'No, he's never coming back."'

Wilhelmsen's agent, Steve Canter, says Tom needed some distance. "Some people go to college to grow up; Tom went and worked and traveled and started to get his life together. He got his own education."

He certainly did.

After hiking numerous parks, Wilhelmsen returned to Tucson, where he applied for a bartending job at The Hut. "We were looking at the application and looking at his job history, and there was only one entry," Mencke says. "For the company, he put down: 'Milwaukee Brewers.' Position: 'Pitcher.'" Mencke laughs. "We were looking for good-looking females to hire, but Tom walked into the bar and filled out an application, and after talking to him, I decided right then, this is a good guy to have around. I just had a gut feeling about him."

[+] EnlargeCourtesy of Seattle Mariners
Under the bright lights at Safeco Field, Tom Wilhelmsen was a Seattle Mariner on Opening Day.

Wilhelmsen also reconnected with his old high school girlfriend Cassie, and they hiked extensively through the Southwest and the West. They backpacked through Europe in 2006, running the hostel gamut from Amsterdam through Bavaria into Italy and then back up through France and England.

While some of his former teammates were just reaching baseball's major league green cathedrals, Wilhelmsen was touring Notre Dame. When he could have been pitching in Milwaukee while beer-drinking fans sang the "Beer Barrel Polka," he was listening to Germans sing at Munich's Oktoberfest. ("We heard 'Country Roads' every 15 minutes. And that song, 'Heyyyy, baby. … Oooh! Aahhh!' every 15 minutes.") And rather than studying video of Albert Pujols, he was gazing in awe at Michelangelo's David. ("It's a statue of a guy, and you think, Oh. Great. But you stand in that line and then you walk in and see it, and you say, 'Hole-ley cow!'")

Back in Tucson, he and Cassie played on a co-rec softball team. Cassie played second; Tom played in the outfield. "I was too afraid to pitch -- it was so close to home plate. So I told my brother who is blind in one eye to do it," Wilhelmsen says and laughs. "He's still in a league, and he still pitches. He calls me up when he strikes out three or gives up 12 runs."

They were fun times, of which Wilhelmsen says, "There was a lot going on," before reconsidering for a moment and adding with a smile, "Really not a lot going on."

Which was pretty much the problem. His was not a bad life when you're in your 20s, but not so much when you grow older and staying up until 4 a.m. isn't quite so much fun as it was and guys you played with in the minors are set for life after earning millions in the majors, then you look down at your arm and wonder what might have been if only you had given baseball your all.

"Cassie was a huge part of it. I started thinking about the future because I wanted to ask her to be my wife," Wilhelmsen says. "That was the big part. What am I going to do? I don't want to come home at four in the morning to her, especially if we're going to have kids. I don't want to smell like beer all the time."

He also was smoking a pack or so of cigarettes a day, but one June day in 2008, he says, "I went outside, lit a cigarette, smoked it about three-quarters down and said, 'What the hell am I doing?' Then I threw the cigarette out, and that was it."

Just like that, Wilhelmsen quit smoking. Then he celebrated Father's Day by calling up his father and repeating a question from "Field of Dreams" that has accounted for an estimated 43 percent of all American male tears shed since 1989. "Hey Dad, you want to play catch?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Wilhelmsen's story is turned into a movie, this is where the music will swell and you will see a montage of Wilhelmsen (John Krasinski from "The Office"?) running laps and sprints and agility drills to work himself back into shape. There will be lots of shots of his pitches popping into his father's catcher's glove. Tom mixing Fat Men behind the bar and curveballs on the mound. The montage will make it look easier than it probably was, but the return was quick. By 2009, Wilhelmsen was ready to pitch again. Shortly after marrying Cassie, he tried out and signed a contract with the Tucson Toros of the Golden Baseball League, an independent league so minor that its salaries were about $900 a month, the per diem was $10 and a player with one club once had to drive the team van from Arizona to British Columbia for the next game.

Wilhelmsen was just rounding back into form with the Toros when he suffered a biceps injury that ended his season. He received some workers' compensation and returned to The Hut.

While the arm healed, his agent called up Mariners general manager Jack Zduriencik, who had been Milwaukee's scouting director when Wilhelmsen was with the Brewers. Canter told Zduriencik that Wilhelmsen was pitching again and asked whether the Mariners would take a look at him. When Zduriencik did, he was impressed enough to offer Wilhelmsen a minor league contract in February 2010.

"He's a little more mature now," Zduriencik says. "He has a better focus of what he wants to do. Now he wants to play baseball, and I think he'll tell you he lost that desire somewhere along the way. And now he's a grown man with a wife, and he has responsibilities. He's experienced some things in life. He's fortunate that he still has a live arm. That doesn't happen every day where a guy moves on with his life and is able to come back five years later and pitch at this level."

Says Wilhelmsen, "I'm just older now, and I have more responsibility and understand what it is to have responsibilities. Maybe not to the fullest extent, but a hell of a lot more than I did when I was younger. I just have more life experience in general and understand how to go about your life."

[+] EnlargeCourtesy of Seattle Mariners
Wilhelmsen was a seventh-round draft pick by the Brewers in 2002.

Wilhelmsen pitched well enough last year for the Mariners' Arizona League team and their Class A teams in Everett, Wash., and Clinton, Iowa, to earn a spot on the 40-man roster and an invitation to spring training this year. He was so thrilled by it all that he occasionally was seen asking teammates and coaches for autographs this spring. Given little chance to make the team out of Arizona, he just kept pitching and getting better. And when the Mariners announced their final roster, he was on the team. He quickly called his father.

"I could hear that he was crying; he was very emotional about it," his father says. "He kept saying, 'Thank you, Dad.' He just made me all warm and fuzzy."

Wilhelmsen made his major league debut in Oakland, striking out one batter in a scoreless inning. His next appearance was Friday's home opener after he added to the dreamlike nature of his comeback by running onto the field with his teammates through a fog machine while 48,000 fans cheered.

With his wife and his father watching from the stands and dozens of friends watching on TV at The Hut, Wilhelmsen entered that night's game in the fourth inning with Seattle trailing 6-0, one out and one runner on. He gave up a single, struck out a batter, walked a batter, gave up a two-run single and then gave up a towering home run to Travis Hafner that banged off the window of the seldom-reached Hit It Here Café in the right-field upper deck.

"That was in his butter," Wilhelmsen says of the gopher ball. "If it was any other place, he probably would have hit it within this zip code. But right there? It was gone. I looked at it and I was just like, 'Hole-ley, bomb!' And I watched it the whole way, and I usually never, ever do that. But I watched that one the whole way. But now I know where his sweet spot is. He won't see another one there if I face him again."

Wilhelmsen's fastball approaches 95 mph, and in four appearances through Thursday, he has struck out six batters in 4 2/3 innings (good). But he also has walked five batters, given up eight hits and allowed six runs (not so good). After missing so many years and returning in so swift and breathtaking a leap, he needs experience in addition to the lively arm.

Mariners pitching coach Carl Willis likens Wilhelmsen's path to the majors to the way a lot of athletes wind up getting their college degree after they leave school for a pro career.

"I went to college to play baseball, and all I was concerned about was to maintain a C average to stay eligible," Willis says. "Then I signed to play pro ball and went off and started my baseball career. And then years later I said, 'I want to go back and finish college.' So when I went back, I made all A's. If there was a 10-page paper assigned, I wrote 15. Because I wanted to do it. And I think when he started as a young man, maybe he wasn't 100 percent sure baseball is what he wanted to do. Now, he's experienced different facets of life and says, 'This is what I want to do.' And he's able to be all in, 100 percent. And because he's experienced the other side of life, he appreciates this opportunity so much more to be able to go out and play the game."

Wilhelmsen says his odd path to the majors has affected him in ways he probably doesn't realize yet.

"It has helped me be a little more grounded. It helps me understand there are other things in this world than baseball," he says. "You're playing baseball and this is your dream as a kid and you play it nonstop. You live it, breathe it, you eat it. There are other things, but that's your focus if you want to get to the highest level. But there's a bigger picture. I'm very glad I was able to live a normal life away from baseball and then come back to it. If I had made it when I was playing ball, I definitely wouldn't be the same guy."

Perhaps. But in many ways, Wilhelmsen still is the same bright, optimistic, genuine personality whom people say he always has been. Consider the rookie backpack.

As is the veteran relievers' custom for embarrassing a rookie, Wilhelmsen received a child's backpack to carry to the bullpen. This is very fitting for a man who backpacked his way through Europe and back into baseball. Plus, it has the bonus of not being one of those pink My Little Pony backpacks past rookies have carried. This one is of R2D2, which Wilhelmsen finds very cool.

"I feel pretty honored by it," he says, flashing that engaging grin. "R2 is the most famous Droid in the world. And he's got my back."

The legend of Bob Feller began on an Iowa farm: Bill Livingston

2011-02-27T14:50:00.000-08:00

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- The Greatest Indian of Them All, Bob Feller, grew up in Van Meter on the Iowa prairie, among legends both real and make-believe.

Winterset, Iowa, was the hometown of John Wayne, although his name was Marion Morrison then. Nile Kinnick, who won the Heisman Trophy at the University of Iowa, was Feller's catcher in American Legion ball and grew up in Adel, Iowa. A sportscaster called "Dutch" Reagan was working in DesMoines.

Feller's life was a tale as tall as any of theirs.

Ted Williams, the consensus choice as baseball's all-time greatest hitter, closely studied pitchers, but he never obsessed about them -- except for one.

Feller captivated Williams. While Williams would focus on someone like Allie Reynolds of the Yankees, a terrific pitcher, for two hours before a game, he started psyching up three days before facing Feller. The difference between Feller's stuff and "good" stuff was always exponential.

Feller had a "field of dreams," in Iowa, just like in the movie. After clearing the land with his own hands, his father planted more wheat than corn on the rest of the farm. Wheat was easier to harvest, which left more time for baseball.

That's a synthesis of fathers, sons, baseball, and amber waves of grain. Feller, who passed away Wednesday at age 92 of complications from leukemia, was born, bred and whole grain-fed to be an American icon.
To protect his amateur eligibility, he signed with the Indians for $1 and a baseball autographed by the members of the team. Feller struck out 17 Philadelphia A's, breaking the American League record, when he was only 17 years old. Then, he went home to finish high school. He would have been a global sensation in today's world of 24/7 news cycles on cable TV and the Internet. It is not overstating it to say that Feller might have been the greatest prodigy in any field since Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

He was self-assured enough to throw a strike, at nearly 79 years of age -- and from the pitching rubber yet -- while making the ceremonial first pitch during the 1997 World Series.

Blunt and outspoken, he was also one of the most admirable men of an admirable generation. In the prime of his career, he gave up 31/2 years to serve in the Navy. He enlisted two days after Pearl Harbor, although he could have gotten a deferment since he was the sole support of his family, and his father was dying. In contrast to how teams schemed to arrange reserve-unit berths for players during the Vietnam war, Feller told told Cy Slapnicka, the scout who had signed him: "I'm going to enlist."

Slapnicka replied: "I think you should." As chief of an anti-aircraft battery on the battleship USS Alabama, Feller steamed 175,000 miles, crossed the Arctic Circle six times and the Equator 24 times, won eight battle stars, and, for his pains, saw a bunch of know-littles exclude him from the list of the 20th century's greatest players because he didn't win 300 games. Why, without World War II, he'd have won close to 400!

Although he played catch on the Alabama every day, Feller could not have known that he would come back to the big leagues as good as ever, not after missing most of four seasons when he was his early to mid-20s. In a way, it figured. .Legends are for all time, literally.

Before the color barrier fell after World War II in big-league baseball, Feller barnstormed in the off-season against the best of his era, including the great Negro League stars. He was an equal-opportunity strikeout artist.

He said only Walter "Big Train" Johnson was faster than he was. That riled Nolan Ryan's fans, but Feller had a strong sense of what it meant to be "Rapid Robert." Still, his self-gratification was slight, compared to his self-sacrifice. "Freedom's not free," he said.

On 9/11, one of the darkest days since Pearl Harbor, a reporter seeking reaction from a player who was a veteran of military service called Feller. It was an easy choice. He was the greatest American I ever knew.

Baseball in Cleveland will never be the same without Bob Feller: Paul Hoynes commentary

2011-02-27T14:45:00.000-08:00

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Hi Corbett Field was nearly empty on a long ago spring morning.

Bob Feller was the only occupant on the Indians' spring training grounds. He was in right field, in full uniform, going through his pitching delivery. He'd come to a set position, whirl and throw the ball into the right field wall.

Feller was practicing his pickoff move to second. Why not? He was only in his 70s.

Bob Feller, the greatest Indian of them all, is gone. He died Wednesday night and baseball in Cleveland will never be the same.

The birth of the new season didn't mean a thing until Feller walked into the spring-training press room, cracking jokes and passing out a new set of his autographed baseball cards to anyone within arm's reach. It didn't matter if it was Tucson, Ariz., Winter Haven, Fla., or Goodyear, Ariz., the sun couldn't shine and Indians players couldn't start pulling their hamstrings until No.19 reported.

He was sharp of mind, a red state unto himself and had an opinion on everything. He moved easily among the rich and famous. He danced with Marilyn Monroe, pitched to Joe DiMaggio and Ted Williams, mingled with admirals and generals. Everyone knew Rapid Robert, the Heater from Van Meter.

In Winter Haven one morning, reporters were talking about what Indians players might open the season on the disabled list. The war in Iraq was raging on and Feller quickly tied the two together.

"I was just in Washington, D.C., talking to some generals," Feller said. "I'll tell you who's going on the disabled list ... Saddam Hussein."
Feller won 266 games with the Indians, throwing three no-hitters and 12 one-hitters. At his peak, he joined the U.S. Navy right after Pearl Harbor in 1941 and lost nearly 3 1/2 years of his career in World War II.

Feller told me it probably cost him about 60 victories, but he had no regrets about going to war.

"We were getting the hell kicked out of us," he said. "I thought we needed some help."

My favorite memory of Feller was listening to him talk about the barnstorming tour he organized with Satchel Paige and other Negro League stars. It was a blue-sky day at Chain of Lakes Park in Winter Haven as Feller talked to a group or reporters, but he made it sound as if the tour between big-league stars and Negro League greats happened yesterday.

Feller organized the tour, booked the hotels and travel. I don't know if he sold tickets, but he may have. He and Paige pitched two to three innings every day of the tour. He remembered dates, towns and crowd sizes.

He ranked Paige as one of the top 20 pitchers of all time. He gave scouting reports on other Negro League players, turning the mist of legend into muscle and flesh. It was an oral history of baseball and I'm still kicking myself for not taping it.

In last season's World Series between San Francisco and Texas, the Giants had Hall of Famers Juan Marichal, Willie McCovey, Orlando Cepeda and Gaylord Perry throw out the first pitch from Game 1. Willie Mays would have been there, but he wasn't feeling well.
In Cleveland, the Indians only had Feller at that pristine level of baseball greatness. The good thing was he was he never left.

• Playing catch in front of the Indians' dugout with Omar Vizquel in Winter Haven just before game time as the PA announcer reeled off his statistics that the crowd knew by heart.

• Sitting in the press box for the opening of Jacobs Field in 1994 as Seattle's Randy Johnson threatened, but eventually failed to match his record for throwing the only opening day no-hitter in history.

• Telling you his itinerary for his next round of card shows, "I'm in Dubuque on Tuesday, Nashville on Friday, Chicago on Sunday. Then I'm going to Iowa and we're going to walk out of a corn field just like in the movie."

He made his living by being Bob Feller. Herb Score used to call him "Inc." He was Bob Feller, Incorporated.

Several years ago he was asked how much he would be worth at free agent prices. He said without hesitation $15 million to $17 million a year. It was clear he'd thought about it. Today he'd be short-changing himself.

I wonder what Feller would have done if he pitched in the free-agent era? Would he have played his whole career in Cleveland? His talent certainly made him a one-team player such as Cal Ripken Jr. or Tony Gwynn. Or would he have left for more money and better opportunities like so many others?

Such thoughts are not for the moment. Today is for being grateful that we had Bob Feller among us for so long. That he was always there and in no hurry to leave.

Most underrated RH starter: Bob Feller

2011-02-27T14:41:00.000-08:00

Editor's Note: The following is an excerpt from "The Stark Truth: The Most Overrated and Underrated Players in Baseball History" by Jayson Stark. Copyright (c) 2007 by the author. This excerpt has been printed with the permission of Triumph Books. For information on how to purchase the book, click here.

I'm still convinced that Bob Feller is the most underrated righthander who ever lived. But only because he is.

Imagine this kid, at 17 years old, pitching an exhibition game in 1936 against a Cardinals team still rolling out most of the lineup that had won the World Series in 1934 -- and striking out EIGHT of the nine hitters he faced. Imagine this kid, a few weeks later, making the first start of his big-league career, and whiffing 15 St. Louis Browns. Imagine him, three weeks after that, ripping off 17 K's against the Athletics -- the biggest strikeout game in American League history at the time. Now imagine him, just a couple of weeks later, heading back home to Iowa -- so he could ride the SCHOOL BUS with his sister and finish high school. All true. It all happened. In real life. He was the LeBron James of his era -- except with a 12-to-6 curve instead of a learning curve.

How many American teenagers have had the impact on their country that Bob Feller once did? His high school graduation was broadcast live -- to the whole U.S.A. (on NBC radio). His face was on the COVER of Time Magazine before he'd even started 10 big-league games. So it's pretty clear Bob Feller wasn't overrated back then.

But that was then. This is now, all these decades later. And Feller no longer gets his due. When ESPN asked its in-house stable of baseball "experts" (full disclosure: myself included) to rank baseball's greatest living pitchers in May of 2006, Feller finished sixth. But in an accompanying ESPN Sports Nation poll of ESPN.com surfers, Feller didn't even make the top 10. (The only other Sports Nation omission from the experts' top 10: Juan Marichal.) Seven years earlier, in the fan voting for the All-Century team, Feller wasn't even close, finishing 13th (with nearly 740,000 fewer votes than Ryan).

So what's up with that?

We'd better remind you -- assuming you ever knew -- just how enormous a figure Feller was in his time. Over the first 95 seasons in the existence of Major League Baseball, only one pitcher cranked out four straight seasons of 240 strikeouts or more -- Bob Feller. In that same period, he and Walter Johnson were the only pitchers who ever led their league in strikeouts 10 or more seasons apart. Through the first nine seasons of Feller's career, he was the most unhittable pitcher in history (allowing just 7.01 hits per 9 innings). And the real proof was all those games in which nobody -- or just about nobody -- got a hit. This man threw three no-hitters and TWELVE one-hitters. Until Nolan Ryan came along, the only pitcher in the 20th century with even half as many combined no-hitters and one-hitters was Walter Johnson (one no-hitter, seven one-hitters). And Feller was the only 20th-century pitcher with three no-hitters until Sandy Koufax showed up.

Feller also just might be (ahem) The Hardest Thrower Who Ever Lived. We'll never know for sure, of course. In his day, there were no radar guns attached to every scoreboard in America -- possibly because radar had only been invented about 20 minutes earlier. But there's one expert who KNOWS (totally for sure) that Feller was The Hardest Thrower Who Ever Lived. And that would be the ever-modest Feller himself.

I'll never forget, back in the 1997 Indians-Marlins World Series, the radar board in Florida threw a "102 mph" up there after one fateful fastball by Marlins closer Robb Nen. Yep, 102. Never saw one of THOSE before. Before the game the next day, the New York Post's Tom Keegan and I spotted Feller on the field. So we decided to ask for ourselves whether he thought he'd ever thrown a pitch that traveled 102 miles an hour. "Hell," he said, "that was my CHANGE-UP."

Feller then proceeded to tell a story about some gizmo, or military invention, called the Electric Cell Device. This was some kind of chamber -- no longer available at a Wal Mart near you -- that was used back in 1946 to clock his fastball. Feller claimed he whooshed a pitch through the old ECD that was measured at 107.9 miles per hour. Must have been that point-9 that made him so hard to hit.

Virtually from the minute he threw his first pitch, there was so much national fascination with Feller and his heater that folks were constantly looking for ways to figure out whether his 100-mph flameball was reality or myth. So in 1940, Feller was lined up for his most legendary pitcher's duel -- with a speeding motorcycle. Just as the motorcycle varoomed by him at 86 mph, Feller launched his fastball at a target 60 feet, 6 inches away. The baseball won that race so easily, it was calculated that his Harley-ball was traveling at 104 mph. Oh by the way, a small hole had been cut out of the target so a camera could record this fabled pitch -- and Feller launched his fastball right through the target, wiping out the camera. So don't try to buy that historic photo on eBay any time soon.

Now no doubt you Nolan Ryan fans out there are saying: "What's the big whoop?" There are all kinds of stories about Ryan -- who was elected (by me) as the most overrated righthanded starter of all time in this book -- that sound just like these, right? Well, there is one significant difference between Ryan and Feller: Feller consistently found ways to convert his smokeball and all his whiffs into wins.

Feller had seven seasons of at least 15 wins and a .

Feller got through war, then got hurt

2011-02-27T14:39:00.000-08:00

At the conclusion of the 1941 season, Bob Feller was 22 years old and he'd won 107 games in the major leagues. At that pace ... well, if Feller had continued pitching that well until he was 42, he would have challenged Cy Young's more impressive records.

A war got in the way.

The way Feller told the story, on the 7th of December he was driving his new Buick from his home in Iowa to Chicago, for a meeting with Cy Slapnicka, Cleveland's general manager, and manager Roger Peckinpaugh. Feller expected to sign a new contract for 1942.

Car radios were still uncommon in 1941, and expensive. But when you win 107 games before your 23rd birthday, you can afford the radio and a tinny-sounding speaker. Crossing the Mississippi River into Illinois, Feller heard the bulletin: Japan had attacked Pearl Harbor.

"I knew that the purpose of our meeting had just changed," Feller would write, nearly 50 years later. He would tell Slapnicka and Peckinpaugh that instead of signing a new contract, he would be signing enlistment papers for the U.S. Navy. Immediately.

He could have waited to be drafted, and almost certainly would have been able to continue playing baseball through 1942, at least; with his father terminally ill, Feller was his family's sole financial support. Some players weren't drafted until after the 1943 season. But Feller went right in, voluntarily. A few months into his enlistment, tired of a cushy stateside posting, he pressed for combat duty and spent much of 1943 and '44 commanding a gunnery crew on a battleship, the U.S.S. Alabama.

By the time Feller returned to baseball in 1945, he'd missed more than three-and-a-half seasons. Among the first stars to come back, Feller would be a sort of guinea pig, as nobody knew what such a long layoff would mean for professional baseball players (many of whom would miss two or three full seasons).

In the event, most (though not all) of them picked up right where they'd left off.*

* Most of the stars, anyway. Many dozens of lesser players lost their prime seasons because of the war -- not to mention all the younger men who lost their lives or their health -- and never played in the majors, or even professional baseball, at all.

Of course, eventually another question would come up. From Feller's 1990 autobiography, "Now Pitching: Bob Feller":
Then people began to wonder how we would have done if the war hadn't come along. Baseball fans filled many an hour in those days with that "what-if" question. Eventually, an analyst in Seattle, Ralph Winnie, sat down at his computer and figured out the answers.

He took our individual stats for the last three years before our military services and our first three years after the war, then averaged them out on a per-season basis and projected them across the war years...

In my case, Winnie projected that I would have 107 more games, finishing with 373 career wins instead of 266, with another 1,070 strikeouts, five no-hitters instead of three and 19 one-hitters instead of 12. He calculated that I would have finished with the sixth most wins in history instead of 28th and the seventh most shutouts instead of 29th.

In his book, Feller tempered those numbers a bit, writing, "It may not prove anything ... We could have been injured and missed a full season or slipped on a banana peel, who knows?"

In the years after Feller's book was published, he became more outspoken in his political views -- somewhat famously in these parts, during an ESPN.com chat he went off on "Hanoi Jane" Fonda -- and more willing to take credit for the statistics that might have been his, absent the war.

Realistically, I think such exercises are more instructive for hitters than pitchers, simply because hitters don't run the same injury risk that pitchers do. Feller might have been injured if he'd kept on pitching during the war years. From his Age 19 through Age 22 seasons, Feller averaged 309 innings per season ... though whether that means he was primed for an injury or was invulnerable to fatigue, I really can't hazard a guess.

Upon Feller's discharge from the Navy in August 1945, he returned to the Indians and pitched well in nine late-season starts. In 1946, he enjoyed one of his best seasons, leading the American League in wins (26), games pitched (48), games started (42), complete games (36), shutouts (10), innings (371) and strikeouts (348).

Feller got off to a fine start in 1947, but hurt his knee in June and was never really the same. From that point through the end of his career, nine mostly humdrum years later, he struck out just slightly more than four batters per nine innings.

People wonder how Bob Feller would have done if the war hadn't come along. I wonder how Bob Feller would have done if he hadn't lost his All-World fastball before he turned 29 - Rob Neyer

In his 92 years, Feller saw it all

2011-02-27T14:37:00.000-08:00

In his 92 years, Feller saw it all
December, 15, 2010 Dec 1511:30PM ETEmail Print Comments8 By Rob Neyer

I'm sorry to hear about Bob Feller's passing, if not surprised. Most of us have been around long enough what it means when a 92-year-old man is transferred to hospice care. At that point, one can only hope for a peaceful end and perhaps a few more good moments with loved ones.

Bob Feller actually lasted a bit longer than some thought. Almost a week ago, the Northern Ohio Journal actually reported Feller's death, and columnist Jim Ingraham wrote a lovely tribute. That was yanked from the Journal's website a few hours later, but I think this passage is a fine introduction:

Bob Feller won his first 100 games before the age of 23. He died Wednesday at the age of 92.At either end of his life he mocked convention. He made his major league debut -- this is beyond outrageous -- at 17. In his first major league start he set a major league record for strikeouts in a game, and then after that season went back to high school for his senior year. Think about that.

He lived to be 92. How many 92-year-olds do you know?

The year he was born, Alexander Graham Bell was still alive. So were Wyatt Earp and Orville Wright.

When Feller debuted in Van Meter, Iowa, Christy Mathewson was still alive. So were Honus Wagner, Napoleon Lajoie, and Cy Young.

Ty Cobb? Not only was he still alive, he was STILL PLAYING!

As a 17-year-old rookie with the Indians in 1936, Feller needed a place to live. Cy Slapnicka, the scout who signed him, found a room for him in a boarding house in Cleveland. One of Feller’s fellow-boarders in the house had fought in the war -- the Civil War.

As amazing all of those things are, the one thing that always sticks in my head is this: Bob Feller pitched against Lou Gehrig. All the other big stars in the American League in the late 1930s, too. Joe DiMaggio. Jimmie Foxx. Hank Greenberg. Ted Williams.

Of course they're all gone, now. Nearly all of them, anyhow. Hall of Famer Bobby Doerr was actually born a few months before Feller, and debuted in the majors roughly a year after Feller. Hall of Famer Monte Irvin was born just a few months after Feller, though thanks to baseball's segregation he wouldn't reach the (previously all-white) major leagues until he was 30.

Even with Feller's passing, they're still around. It just gets a little harder to find them, all the time.

Almost to the end, though, it was rarely hard to find Bob Feller. Just a few years ago, I saw him give a rousing talk at the SABR Convention in Cleveland. Last summer he was still regularly showing up at the ballpark, one of the few men on earth who had seen Babe Ruth hit, and pitched to Lou Gehrig. And he was still crusty, unimpressed by young players who haven't won a lot of games or enlisted in the Navy during a war or been elected to the Hall of Fame.

Too crusty, maybe, by just a little. Upon seeing Stephen Strasburg in the flesh, Feller said, "Call me when he wins his first 100."

Granted, I've probably said something similar a few times. But when Bob Feller said it, people actually paid attention. He wasn't nasty (well, not often). He was opinionated, and the older he got the more willing he was to express his opinions.

Of course, he won his first 100 games before he turned 23, and did enlist to fight in a war, and was elected to the Hall of Fame. If anyone ever earned the right to the occasional bout of crustiness, it was probably Rapid Robert Feller

http://espn.go.com/blog/sweetspot/post/_/id/6557/in-his-92-years-feller-saw-it-all

I-View with Bob Feller

2010-12-11T02:22:00.000-08:00

While Hall of Famer Cleveland Indians pitcher Bob Feller is receiving hospice care, we wanted to reflect on an outstanding interview he did with The Plain Dealer's Dennis Manoloff in the spring.

Days before Feller took off for spring training, he took the time to share with Manoloff. Just a few of the questions and answers:

PD: When you hear the term 'living legend' used to describe you, what does it mean?

BF: I owe baseball everything I am today. Whatever I may or may not be, I owe to baseball. I think of a young kid who had great parents, teachers, coaches and a scout, Cy Slapnicka, who signed me and took me in almost as his son. Living legend? It's a term I respect and appreciate because I started out as a kid with no idea what might happen in the game. Thanks to Cy having a lot of confidence in me, I was able to pitch for Cleveland.
PD: Which of the nicknames most attached to you do you prefer: The Heater from Van Meter, Bullet Bob or Rapid Robert?

BF: I don't like any of them that much, to be honest. To me, Bullet Bob is Bullet Bob Turley (1958 Cy Young winner). Rapid Robert is the most popular, but I don't care for it. Anne, my wife, doesn't like it, either. I prefer to be called Bob. If they call me Rapid Robert, well, so be it.
PD: In official baseball records and on your statue outside Progressive Field, you are listed as Robert William Andrew Feller. What is behind the two middle names?

BF: My father's name was William. My grandfather -- his father -- was Andrew. Andrew's widow, when I was born in 1918, wanted me to have her husband's name. She asked right in our home in Iowa. So my parents said, "Yes, we're going to name him Robert William Andrew Feller." They didn't. She never knew it when she went to her grave. My legal name at the county recorder's office in Dallas County, Iowa, is Robert William Feller. Robert William Andrew Feller is not my name, legally.
PD: But you don't mind the two middle names?

BF: I don't mind at all.

Ron Santo

2010-12-04T06:31:00.001-08:00

Chicago -- Ron Santo, one of the greatest players in Chicago Cubs history and a longtime WGN radio announcer whose devotion to the perennial losers was made obvious night after night by his excited shouts or dejected laments, has died. He was 70.

"Ronnie will forever be the heart and soul of Cubs fans," Cubs Chairman Tom Ricketts said in a statement Friday. He praised Santo for "his passion, his loyalty, high great personal courage and his tremendous sense of humor."

Santo died in an Arizona hospital from complications of bladder cancer, according to WGN Radio. Santo was diagnosed with diabetes when he was 18 and later lost both legs to the disease.

A nine-time all-star in his 15-year career, Santo was widely regarded as one of the best players never to gain induction into the Hall of Fame. The quiet sadness with which he met the news year after year that he hadn't been inducted helped cement his relationship with the fans.

But nothing brought fans closer to Santo -- or caused critics to roll their eyes more -- than his work in the radio booth, where he made it clear that nobody rooted harder for the Cubs and nobody took it harder when they lost. Santo's groans of "Oh, nooo!" and "It's bad" when something bad happened to the Cubs, sometimes just minutes after he shouting, "YES! YES!" or "ALL RIGHT!" became part of team lore as the "Cubbies" came up short year after year.

"The emotion for me is strictly the love I have for this team," Santo told The Associated Press in August 2009. "I want them to win so bad."

Santo played for the Cubs from 1960-73 and wrapped up his career with the White Sox in 1974. He joined the Cubs' radio team in 1990.

Santo battled myriad medical problems after he retired as a player, having undergone surgery on his eyes, heart and bladder after doctors discovered cancer. On his legs alone, he underwent surgery more than a dozen times before they were ultimately amputated below the knees -- the right one in 2001 and the left a year later.

Don Kessinger, who played shortstop with the Cubs from 1964-1975 and perhaps saw more of Santo's play at third base than anyone else, said what he remembers most is how hard his teammate played every single day.

Kessinger said Santo deserved to be in the Hall of Fame, and cannot understand why he was never elected.

"It's hard for me to believe he wasn't elected, and I'm surprised the veterans committee didn't see fit to put him in," said Kessinger. "It would have meant so much to Ron Santo to be elected into that awesome hall."

Born Ronald Edward Santo in Seattle on Feb. 25, 1940, Santo was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes when he was 18. But he kept it from the team until he made his first All-Star game in 1963, and fans didn't know about his diabetes for years after that.

Even though the Cubs failed to make the World Series in his lifetime, Santo once said his association with the team probably prolonged his life.

"If I hadn't had this when my troubles started, I don't know if I would have survived," he said in September 2003. "I really mean that. It's therapy."

Santo was a fan favorite on a team that included Hall of Famers Ernie Banks, Billy Williams and Ferguson Jenkins. Many taverns near Wrigley Field include photos of Santo, including one in which he famously clicked his heels as he ran off the field.

By all accounts, it was a tremendous career. In his 14 years with the Cubs and his final season across town with the White Sox, the third baseman hit .277 with, 2,254 hits, 342 home runs and 1,331 runs batted in. He also was named to the All-Star team nine times won the Gold Glove award five times.

He hit .300 or better four times, had the best on-base percentage in the league in 1964 and 1966 and led the league in walks four times.

But the team routinely finished at or near the bottom of the standings.

One of the few times the Cubs didn't was in 1969, when they finished second after leading the New York Mets by nine games as late as Aug. 16. That year, a photograph was taken of Santo that became synonymous with both the team's failure and the supposed curses that have long haunted the team: There, in the on-deck circle at Shea Stadium, is Santo, a bat on his shoulder as a black cat scurries past.

Santo's disappointment with being passed over for induction into the Hall of Fame was well known to viewers, who watched him receive the news on the phone in 2003 thanks to television cameras he allowed inside his house when he thought he would be getting in.

In 2003, he was honored by the Cubs, who retired his No. 10, hoisting it up the left-field foul pole, just below Banks' No. 14.

"This flag hanging down the left-field line means more to me than the Hall of Fame," Santo told the cheering crowd at Wrigley Field when his number was retired.

"This couldn't be any better," he said. "With the adversity that I have been through if it wasn't for all of you, I wouldn't be standing here right now."

Santo had been active in fundraising for diabetes research, with his Walk-for-the-Cure raising millions of dollars

Sparky Anderson - Tim Kurkijan

2010-11-06T16:12:00.000-07:00

David Wells was throwing a simulated game at Tiger Stadium on a hot day in 1994, but it could have been any day in any year. Tigers manager Sparky Anderson sat in the dugout, legs crossed, smoking a pipe and watching Wells throw as he talked breathlessly to a writer. He was watching Wells with one eye; with the other, he looked at the writer, with complete attention to both. "He's throwing great,'' he said. "Great curveball. Oh, he's ready.''

That was Sparky Anderson. He was a great judge of talent, and a great communicator with people, all at the same time, all the time, every day of his life.No manager in baseball history was more true to his nickname than George "Sparky'' Anderson. No manager ever loved the game more than Sparky. No manager did the job with the same relentless energy and enthusiasm as Sparky. No manager smiled as often as Sparky. No manager was more of a gentleman than Sparky. No manager was nicer than Sparky. Late in his career, Anderson asked the media to start calling him by his given name, George, saying no man in his 50s should be called Sparky. But, it never took. He was and always will be Sparky.

Part of his charm was his penchant for hyperbole. He once called Kirk Gibson, "the next Mickey Mantle,'' and said second baseman Chris Pittaro was a "future Hall of Famer'' even though everyone knew he wasn't. A writer once asked him about the great Reds teams that he managed, and Sparky ran his hand through his silver hair, put his two hands out and began counting fingers: "Bench, greatest catcher ever. Rose, most hits ever. Morgan, maybe the greatest second baseman ever. Perez, Hall of Famer. Concepcion, should be a Hall of Famer; Foster, unbelievable power; Geronimo, best defensive center fielder in the game,'' then proceeded to name every player on those teams, with a superlative attached to each.

"What do you think?'' he said. "Give me a team that could beat those teams.''

Anderson fractured the English language, but in an engaging, homespun sort of way. Of his Stengelesque mangling of words, which was comical and harmless, Anderson once said, "Why do you have to know English? It's like 'two.' There are three twos! There's tee-oh. There's tee-doublya-oh, and there's tee-double-oh. Three twos! Now, if I put any one of them down in a letter I wrote, you would know which one it is I am talking about. It's like 'there' and 'their.' What is the difference as long as you know there's a there there?''

When Steve Rushin of Sports Illustrated went to do a story on Sparky, Anderson brought up the hilarious movie, "The Naked Gun," and in full uniform in his office, did his impersonation of Leslie Nielsen as the umpire, complete with the moonwalk and the yelling of Steeeeee-rike threeeee.

Anderson was a simple man who was, at times, embarrassed by the money and the lifestyle of a major leaguer, in part because he grew up in South Dakota in a house that didn't have an indoor toilet.

He once said, "I only had a high school education and, believe me, I had to cheat to get that.''

As the manager of the Tigers, he once said on game days, he would mostly stay in his hotel watching TV. "I loved 'Headline News,'" he said. "I could watch it all day. Sometimes, it was the same show, and I'd watch over and over.'' But his simple approach is what made him such a great manager. He didn't try to out-think the room, as some managers do. He knew, and said many times, that managers win only because of the players. At his Hall of Fame induction speech, he made that very clear.

And Anderson was a great manager. He won 2,194 games, sixth most ever. He won five pennants and three World Series. He and Tony La Russa are the only managers to win the World Series in each league. He is the all-time winningest manager for two franchises, the Reds and Tigers. He was inducted in the Hall of Fame in 2000, and nothing made him happier than going back to Cooperstown each year and shaking hands with the other Hall of Famers.

But, as a manager, he was tough when he needed to be. His other nickname was "Captain Hook" because of his willingness to go to his bullpen as often as he saw fit. Some of his pitchers weren't particularly happy about coming out of a game, but Anderson once said of removing a pitcher, "I'll tell you when you're tired.''

Anderson was 36 years old when he took over the Reds in 1970. That was a good team, a relatively young team, but the veterans tested their new manager immediately, and immediately Sparky made it clear: It didn't matter that he was a rookie manager, or only 36 years old, he was in charge, and the players would do as he said. Quickly, they did. The Reds won world championships in 1975 and 1976. Those teams are considered among the greatest teams in National League history.

In 1979, Anderson took over the Tigers. He was instrumental -- but took no credit -- for helping make Gibson, Alan Trammell, Lou Whitaker, Jack Morris and many others the players they became. In 1984, the Tigers started out 35-5, went wire-to-wire to take the division and won the World Series in five games over the Padres. Anderson wrote a diary of that special season, in which he typically lauded in the players in a book titled "Bless You Boys.''

No Sparky, bless you.

Tim Kurkjian is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. His book "Is This a Great Game, or What?" was published by St. Martin's Press and became available in paperback in May 2008. Click here to order a copy.

A century doesn't erase questions surrounding Nap Lajoie's 8-for-8 day

2010-10-15T03:12:00.000-07:00

One hundred years ago this Saturday, Cleveland Naps star second baseman Napoleon Lajoie authored one of the greatest single-day performances in a Major League Baseball regular season.

Or did he?

Did Lajoie legitimately go 8-for-8 in a doubleheader against the St. Louis Browns at Sportsman's Park to run down Ty Cobb for a batting title and automobile? Or did the Browns effectively attempt to hand the keys to the car to him -- and start the engine -- with a "defense" that gave up a string of bunt singles?

And was the 8-for-8, regardless of circumstance, actually enough to trump Cobb?

The combination of two legends, high stakes and various shades of gray creates, at the very least, a conversation piece 100 years later.

Entering the 1910 season, Detroit car magnate Hugh Chalmers offered a "Chalmers 30" to who ever finished with the highest average in the game. Owning a car in those days was a big deal.

The Detroit Tigers' Cobb, three-time defending AL batting champion, was the natural favorite to win. Pittsburgh's Honus Wagner and Cleveland's Lajoie were among those expected to be in the mix as well.

Eventually, it became a race between Cobb and Lajoie, who were destined to be enshrined in Cooperstown, N.Y., in the late 1930s. By the final weekend, Cobb seemingly had the fourth straight title in his pocket, especially given his decision not to play the last two games. Cobb claimed that a recurring eye issue dogged him; his long line of haters wondered if he winked through the pain.

The lead of a sidebar in the Sunday, Oct. 9, edition of The Plain Dealer read: "Nap Lajoie's chances of owning the automobile presented to the leading batsman of the country are mightily slim -- in fact, they are practically obliterated unless the 'official' figures prove that 'unofficial' figures are radically incorrect. Cobb, according to The Plain Dealer's estimate, is batting close to .383, while Lajoie's present mark is slightly in excess of .378." (We know now that the lead was .383 to .376.)

The article went on to tweak Cobb for his plans to sit out the final two: "Cobb left the Detroit team Friday night, departing for Philadelphia where he will be a member of the All-Star team that will practice with the Athletics. The Georgian declared that he was not feeling very well. The fact that he was ahead in the auto race and feared that he might take a slump in the two games yet to be played may have had something to do with the sudden decision."

On Oct. 9, about 10,000 fans watched the awful Browns play the sub-.500 Naps in the doubleheader. Most were on hand to see if Lajoie -- aka "The Big French man" or "Larry" -- could mount a challenge to Cobb.

Lajoie tripled in his first at-bat of the opener, then, depending on one's definition of the term, bunted over and over. Lajoie went 4-for-4 in a loss and 4-for-4 with a sacrifice in a victory.

Lajoie kept dropping or pushing or dumping balls in front of Browns rookie infielder Red Corriden, who kept positioning himself ultra-deep, presumably on orders from his manager, Jack O'Connor.

A headline from the front page of The Plain Dealer's Oct. 10 edition stated, "Lajoie Wins Auto In Final Stretch," but acknowledged in a subhead that some thing had smelled at Sportsman's Park: "St. Louis Papers Say Browns Made It Easy for Nap Slugger."

After the writer of the "Special To The Plain Dealer" article described how excited fans were to see Lajoie pile up the hits, the case for the asterisk was summarized:

"But Larry's triumph is tinged with a charge of illegitimacy. St. Louis sporting writers assert that Lajoie was favored by opposing fielders. They say that the St. Louis pitchers pitched the ball where Larry could hit it to best advantage.

"They maintain that Corridon [sic], the Brown third baseman, did not field to the best of his ability when the Cleveland champion drove the ball into Corridon's territory. They insist that other fielders abetted him and aided Lajoie in his race for highest honors. Among others who wrote in similar strain, the baseball editor of the St. Louis Globe Democrat gave the fol lowing description of the St. Louis infield's work:

" 'Every time Lajoie stepped up to the plate, Corridon walked out to the very edge of the grass almost. The Browns' third sacker was virtually playing a short left field for Larry. This always resulted in the same old thing happening, that of Lajoie bunting down the third base line, Corridon rushing in to field the ball and then not throwing because a throw to first would have been useless.'"

The case for shenanigans was bolstered by various reports of pressure having been applied to the official scorer concerning Lajoie's second-game sacrifice. Whether the offender was St. Louis pitching coach Harry Howell or a Naps bat boy or someone else, the goal was to get the sacrifice changed to a hit, because Lajoie needed all the hits he could get. The scorer, possibly offered a bribe, refused to buckle. The play remained a sacrifice/error third base.

If the opposition had, in fact, laid down a Brown carpet for Lajoie, why had they done so? The answer apparently was as simple as ABC: Anybody But Cobb. The Browns were no different than other teams -- including, to a certain extent, the Tigers -- in their dislike for the irascible Cobb. If the down-to-earth Lajoie could be the foil, all the better.

The Plain Dealer's front page Oct. 10 listed how the Cleveland papers calculated the race. The Plain Dealer had Lajoie beating Cobb (.385 to .382), as did The Leader (382.4 to 381.7) and The Press (386.8 to 382.6). The News gave the nod to Cobb (384.15-384.09). Further indicative of the statistical uncertainty of the times was that each paper had a different hit total for Lajoie, ranging from 226 to 229.

A story on the cover of The Plain Dealer on Oct. 11 revealed that American League President Ban Johnson no longer would allow anymore individual contests/prizes as long as he was the league's boss. Johnson was furious about the allegations coming out of Sportsman's Park and promised to investigate.

Lajoie did not flinch. This, from the same story:

" 'It's too close for me to claim the victory and the auto,' said Lajoie at the Grand hotel in Cincinnati last evening. 'Take it from me, I am waiting until Ban Johnson and Robert McRoy tell me whether I have a better record than Cobb or Cobb has me beat. There is such a difference of opinion that I am not counting my eggs before they are hatched or taking a ride in that auto before Johnson and McRoy have poured in a little Cleveland gasoline.

" 'The talk about my not earning those eight hits in St. Louis, though, makes me tired. The first time up I smashed one to the outfield that went over Northen's head, yet some say he misjudged it. Then I hit one that Wallace was lucky to knock down. If that wasn't a hit, there never was one. Then we get down to those six bunts that I beat out. Suppose Corridon did play fairly well back. If he had played in for a bunt and I had swung hard on the ball, I suppose the youngster would have been roasted to a turn be cause he did not play deep."

McRoy was the American League secretary. Upon rechecking the season's stats, McRoy claimed that Cobb was not credited with a 2-for-3 performance from a late-September double header. Adding the 2-for-3 enabled Cobb to edge Lajoie. Johnson signed off on it.

Within a week of the season's conclusion, Johnson announced that Lajoie's 8-for-8 would stand even as O'Connor and Howell had been banished. Johnson also said that Lajoie should have gotten credit for a ninth hit in stead of the sacrifice. Still, according to Johnson and McRoy, Lajoie's perfect day was not enough to overtake Cobb. Johnson declared Cobb the winner of the title and the Chalmers 30. Cobb was credited with going 196-for-509 (.385069) to Lajoie's 227-for-591 (.384095).

Johnson declaring Cobb was entitled to the "Chalmers trophy" did not stop the president from asking Chalmers to provide Lajoie with an automobile, as well. Chalmers agreed; Lajoie, after initially balking, accepted the gift.

Debate continues to this day over who should be listed as the 1910 AL batting champion.

In the late 1970s, researchers Pete Palmer and Leonard Gettelson discovered that Cobb's 2-for-3 had been recorded and, therefore, was mistakenly duplicated. In April 1981, The Sporting News publicized the error but Commissioner Bowie Kuhn declined to alter the history books. In the eyes of baseball, Cobb would remain the 1910 AL batting champion -- part of nine consecutive titles from 1907 to 1915 -- and own 4,191 career hits.

Indians' great Al Rosen on anti-Semitism: 'I had broad shoulders': When They Played The Game

2010-10-15T03:09:00.000-07:00

Indians' great Al Rosen on anti-Semitism: 'I had broad shoulders': When They Played The Game
Published: Monday, October 11, 2010, 10:00 PM Updated: Monday, October 11, 2010, 10:17 PM
Editor's note: This is one of an ongoing series of stories catching up with some of Cleveland's best-known sports figures.)

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- About a month into Jackie Robinson's rookie season in 1947, Major League Baseball's first black player beat out a bunt as the throw pulled the hulking first baseman off the bag.

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Share 13 Comments They collided, dusted themselves off and played on.

Had the fielder been someone other than Hank Greenberg, there may have been a dust-up, not a dust-off. But that day, the 6-4 Greenberg encouraged Robinson to not let the bigots beat him down. Baseball's first Jewish superstar certainly understood what it was like to play under a cloud of hate.

The integration of baseball -- and Cleveland's role in it -- is a familiar slice of history. Two months after Robinson's historic debut, the Indians' Larry Doby became the American League's first black player. In 1975, the Indians' Frank Robinson turned in his lineup card as baseball's first black manager.

The average fan is less aware of the struggles of Jewish ballplayers, although that, too, carries a thick Cleveland vein. Greenberg later became the Indians' general manager under owner Bill Veeck.

And Al Rosen, a Jewish kid from Florida who idolized Greenberg and came within an eyelash of an American League Triple Crown, was one of the Indians' all-time greats.

Their history is told in "Jews and Baseball: An American Love Story," a documentary featured this month during the fourth annual Cleveland Jewish Film Festival.

The audience will learn about players who changed their last names to appear "less Jewish" to escape the insults. How Greenberg, Rosen and others fielded taunts from fans and the opposing dugout. And how New York Giants manager John McGraw sought Jewish players to boost attendance -- and it worked.
"It's not a story about baseball," said producer/director Peter Miller, an '84 Oberlin College grad who grew up a Red Sox fan in Boston. "It's a story about how a people found their way into the mainstream. And there's nothing more mainstream than baseball."

It was through baseball that Rosen assimilated as well.

Rosen recalled that his family didn't have enough money to send him to college. He eventually did earn a degree from the University of Miami, but it was on the sandlots of Miami where he countered the stereotype that Jews weren't good athletes.

"Sports were always my addiction," he said. "I fell in love with the game."

By the time he was through in 1956 at age 32 after 10 seasons, Rosen had driven in at least 100 runs five years in a row and was an American League All-Star four straight times.

His breakout year was 1953, when he stroked 43 homers, drove in 145 runs and missed winning the batting title -- and a Triple Crown -- by one percentage point. He was the league's unanimous MVP.

The following season, Indians manager Al Lopez asked Rosen to move from third to first base for a few weeks until he could trade for another first baseman. Rosen agreed, but broke his right index finger, an injury that ultimately ended his career.

While with the Indians, Rosen lived in Shaker Heights, first on Van Aken Boulevard and later near Canterbury Golf Club, and learned the investment business with the firm formerly known as Bache & Co.

Rosen, now 86, is married and has three sons (all Cleveland-born), a stepdaughter and stepson, and enjoys playing golf and bridge. In a recent phone interview from his home in Rancho Mirage, Calif., he reflected on his time in Cleveland, being Jewish in the big leagues and on his relationship with the late George Steinbrenner.

On being a Jewish ballplayer:

"I can only tell you this, there was anti-Semitism throughout my playing days, and it came from the stands, it came from the managers, the coaches and players. But as time went on, and particularly after the birth of Israel as a nation, I think that a new aura took over and people had more respect for Jewish athletes or Jews generally, because it showed once again that Jews were not to be taken lightly and that they could fight as well as be bookkeepers and accountants and that sort of thing. The kind of taunting and things like that that I heard personally from the benches softened a great deal after 1946."

On whom he turned to for support:

"I have broad shoulders. I took it upon myself. There were times I had to assert myself and other times I just let it roll, but I've always managed to handle it and I thought I handled it well throughout my career."

On how he was treated in Cleveland:

"Cleveland was great for me. I loved every minute of it. During my baseball career I was received warmly and with only laudatory manners. It was just great ... I was just very happy there. My family was happy. We still have relatives there, and my boys still keep in touch with some of their old friends."

On the '54 World Series, in which the Indians were swept by the New York Giants after setting a regular-season win record:

"The Giants had an awfully good ball club. We knew that because we played them in spring training every year. The catch by [Willie] Mays, and Dusty Rhodes getting hot at the right time, that sort of thing, who knows how things may have turned around if Mays hadn't made that catch? It may have been different. But as it was, it was a very disappointing ending to a great year."

On almost buying the Indians with Steinbrenner ... and how the Yankees fell into Steinbrenner's lap:

"We thought we had an agreement with [Indians owner] Vern Stouffer. We were all set to make the announcement from George's office on the 14th floor of the East Ohio Building. The lobby was filled with writers. ... And we thought we had a deal when Vernon called at 5 o'clock Cleveland time and said there'd be no deal. So George had an appetite for baseball now and said to Gabe Paul, who was the [Indians'] president and general manager and myself, 'If you ever hear of a club for sale, let me know.'"

Rosen was flying back to Cleveland from New York with Paul on a Friday after working on Wall Street for a few days, when Paul turned to him.

"Coming home we talked about it. Gabe said there was a club for sale, and I asked him who and he whispered in my ear: 'The Yankees.' I almost fell off my chair, but the Yankees at that time weren't doing well. ... George Steinbrenner, true to the spirit of George, walked in, put together a group and bought the club."

On what he hopes the audience takes away from the documentary:

"Pride, and some additional knowledge. A lot of people are going to see this movie and not recognize the exploits of people like Hank Greenberg and Sandy Koufax. It's going to be something new for them, and they're going to take it with great pride, because both of those men were so exemplary in everything they did."

2010-10-15T02:56:00.000-07:00

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- In ranking the Indians' 40-man roster, I combined what the players did in the 2010 season and what they're expected to do next year.

I studied their stats and their positions in the Indians' pecking order. To try and gauge each players value, I went to baseball- reference.com and checked out the WAR (wins above replacement) statistical study on the Tribe. The stat, developed by Sean Smith of Baseballprojections.com, measures the number of wins a player adds to his team above what a replacement player would add.

OK, I threw a few darts as well. It's not like I watched Ezequiel Carrera for 162 games this year.

Grady Sizemore, Carlos Santana, Anthony Reyes and Hector Ambriz are not technically on the roster because they're on the 60-day disabled list, but they were rated as well. The roster must be adjusted and cut to 40 players by Nov. 19 in preparation for the Rule 5 draft.

1. OF Shin-Soo Choo: Top player on the roster, but he needs lots of help.

2. RHP Chris Perez: Went 2-0 with 16 saves in 17 chances and a 0.63 ERA after the All-Star break.

3. RHP Fausto Carmona: Showed he's capable of being a No.1 starter.

4. CF Grady Sizemore: Indians still consider him an elite player. For their sake, he better be.

5. C Carlos Santana: Manny Acta says Santana was born to hit in the middle of the lineup.

6. DH Travis Hafner: Hit .329 (51-for-155) after the break, but Tribe needs a 500 at-bat season from Pronk.

7. SS Asdrubal Cabrera: Production down because of broken left forearm. Hit .342 (27-for-79) with runners in scoring position.

8. RHP Rafael Perez: Looks like a set-up man again in winning six games.

9. RHP Carlos Carrasco: September is a fooler, but six of his seven starts were rated quality starts.

10. RHP Justin Masterson: He should open 2011 in the rotation.

11. Shelley Duncan: Not sure what this says about Indians talent, but Duncan did everything asked of him this season.

12. RHP Mitch Talbot: Good first half, poor second half. Needs good health and a full season in 2011.

13. SS/2B Jason Donald: Of all the Tribe's young position players who came to the big leagues last season, with the exception of Carlos Santana, he was the most consistent hitter.

14. OF Michael Brantley: He's getting better, but a .296 on base percentage is a concern.

15. OF Trevor Crowe: He plays at 100 mph. If he hit .280 to .290, he'd play a lot more.

16. C Lou Marson: Great arm, bad bat. He can't possibly be that bad a hitter.

17. 2B/3B Jayson Nix: Out of the ashes of 11 errors at the hot corner, did the Indians find a third baseman or a utility infielder?

18. RHP Jeanmar Gomez: He'll help the Indians rotation at some point next year.

19. LHP Tony Sipp: Opposition hit only .218 against Sipp even though he gave up 12 homers, 30 runs and 39 walks.

20. RHP Joe Smith: Tough on righties (.160), weak on lefties (.342). It may cost him.

21. RHP Jensen Lewis: Pitched for his job in September (0.84 ERA, 1 run, 11 strikeouts, 3 walks). Did he do enough?

22. 1B Matt LaPorta: Manny Acta gave him a mulligan for 2010. What do you give him?

23. RHP Josh Tomlin: Started 12 games, won half of them. Good chance to make opening day rotation.

24. OF Nick Weglarz: He has the power the Indians crave, but thumb surgery stopped him at Class AAA Columbus last year.

25. RHP Justin Germano: Manny Acta likes relievers that can go two or three innings. Germano does that well.

26. LHP Aaron Laffey: Not sure if Laffey is out as a starter or not. If he's out, he's a left-handed Germano.

27. RHP Frank Herrmann: He throws the ball over the plate, a good thing for a guy who throws between 95 mph to 97 mph.

28. RHP Hector Ambriz: Rule 5 right-hander who was hurt all year. He'll be down for at least a year following Tommy John surgery on his right elbow.

29. 1B/3B Andy Marte: Good guy, but if he's still here in 2011, it means the Indians have gone backward instead of forward.

30. C Luke Carlin: Did well in a short look.

31. INF Drew Sutton: Ditto for Sutton.

32. C Chris Gimenez: Improved as a catcher, but with Carlos Santana and Lou Marson in front of him, he has nowhere to go but down.

33. RHP Vinnie Pestano: If he proves he can get lefties and righties out, he could steal a spot in the pen.

34. INF Luis Valbuena: He got lost in spring training and never found his way home.

35. OF Jordan Brown: Finally got his big-league shot, but he still needs a change of scenery.

36. LHP David Huff: Went from 11 wins in 2009 to 11 losses in 2010, but don't count him out.

37. RHP Jess Todd: There are a lot of bullpen arms in front of him.

38. OF Ezequiel Carrera: Acquired from Seattle for Russell Branyan. He was a phone call away when Michael Brantley twisted his ankle in late September.

39. LHP Kelvin De La Cruz: Put in a healthy year at Class A and AA after missing most of the 2009 season with elbow problems.

40.1B Wes Hodges: Hard to figure out what Indians think of Hodges after they designated him and then re-signed him.

41. OF Chad Huffman: Claimed on waivers from the Yankees on Sept. 17.

42. SS Carlos Rivero: Homers went from seven to six, errors from 14 to 28 in second year at Class AA Akron.

43. RHP Anthony Reyes: Still trying to make it back from Tommy John surgery.

44. RHP Hector Rondon: He's recovering from Tommy John surgery on his right elbow.

2010-08-06T20:12:00.000-07:00

CLEVELAND, Ohio — Of all the electrifying moments on the Kenny Lofton highlight reel, none captures the essence of the player any better than his 180-foot dash to glory on Oct. 17, 1995.

It happened in the eighth inning of Game 6 of the American League Championship Series between the Indians and Seattle Mariners at the Kingdome. With the Indians leading, 1-0, and Ruben Amaro on third, Lofton beat out a bunt against Randy Johnson. Lofton stole second. Moments later, Big Unit's pitch got away from catcher Dan Wilson and rolled toward the Tribe dugout on the first-base side.

Amaro, as expected, scored easily on the passed ball. The shocker -- to everyone except the man himself -- was that Lofton hit third base and kept on running. In a blur, Lofton slid in safely, catching Wilson and Johnson sulking/napping. The Indians went on to win the game, 4-0, and the series, 4-2, to advance to their first World Series in 41 years.

"My instincts made that play happen," Lofton said by phone earlier this week. "Once I took off, I knew I had the speed to take me where I needed to go."

Lofton will be inducted into the Indians Hall of Fame on Saturday in part because of his ability to impact games with such speed and daring. He also knew how to swing the bat and catch the ball. Everything was on display against the Baltimore Orioles on Sept. 3, 2000, when Lofton went 4-for-7 with a homer, walk, four runs and five steals in a 12-11 victory in 13 innings at Jacobs Field.

Lofton played for 11 teams in a major-league career that spanned from 1991 through 2007, but he always will be known as an Indian. He had three stints with Cleveland (1992-1996; 1998-2001; 2007) and remains the franchise leader with 452 steals and ranks third with 975 runs. Five of his six All-Star selections and all four of his Gold Gloves came with the Indians.

Lofton retired as a .299 hitter in 2,103 regular-season games overall. He had 2,428 hits, 1,528 runs and 622 steals. He played in 95 postseason games, including 50 with the Tribe, and scored 65 runs.

With the Indians Hall of Fame induction around the corner, Lofton reflected on his career:

Plain Dealer: When you think of yourself as a Cleveland Indian, what is the first thing that comes to mind?

Kenny Lofton: Stolen bases. In Cleveland, I think people look at me as the guy who stole bases.

PD: Highlight of your career?

KL: Having been able to play on a lot of teams that made the playoffs. Having had a lot of opportunities to win a ring.

PD: You played in 20 postseason series in 11 years. Does one postseason stand out above the rest?

KL: The first one, with the Indians in 1995. That will stick out forever, because we were able to go to the World Series in Cleveland for the first time since 1954.

PD: Should the Indians have won the 1995 World Series against the Braves, or did they simply get beat by a better, more seasoned team?

KL: Honestly, I believe we played well enough to win. We put our hearts out there. But to be honest, with the teams and the situations what they were, I don't think we got a fair shot.

PD: Explain.

KL: In my opinion, we didn't get a fair shot from the umpires. The [Tom] Glavine and [Greg] Maddux strike zones were not right. They were getting the calls off the plate and our pitchers weren't. I'm not the only one who says that. You had to deal with it, though. You had no other choice.

PD: Your favorite Indians club?

KL: The '95 team, because of the personalities we had. We did a lot of freelancing. It was awesome.

PD: And you set the tone.

KL: The guys called me the igniter. Once I ignited the flames, everything took off. It was an exciting time.

PD: Which postseason ending in your career stings the most?

KL: The toughest to take is '95 because, as I said, I don't think the umpires were fair. Second is the Giants in 2002 because we were up, 3-2, in the World Series and had a five-run lead in Game 6 but lost to the Angels. We just lost.

PD: You also were on the Cubs when they fell to the Marlins in the infamous 2003 NLCS, during which fan Steve Bartman reached out and seemingly denied Moises Alou a catch late in Game 6.

KL: I've never viewed the Bartman situation as more than what it was -- a fan reached out and didn't get the ball. Those things happen. But the play soon after that, when Alex Gonzalez booted the double-play ball . . . that was the deciding factor. Everyone put it on Bartman, but I saw the double-play ball that didn't happen. Regardless, we still had Game 7. We didn't get it done.

PD: Do you believe in the Curse of Colavito (Indians) or Curse of the Billy Goat (Cubs)?

KL: No. If you put the right team on the field and play the way you should play, there's no curse. Look at Boston in 2004. Everybody said there was a curse, but they had the right team to win it all that year -- and they did. Bottom line: It's what you do on the field.

PD: You were a teammate of Barry Bonds in 2002. How do you view him? Is he a Hall of Famer?

KL: (Long pause) I'll say it this way: With Barry Bonds, for me, you have to be innocent until proven guilty in the Hall of Fame situation. So that's a tough one, because you have to show me some type of proof. I know there are allegations, but there's no proof. So, if the allegations had not come up -- for sure, he's a Hall of Famer. But because the allegations came up, and there's a lot of doubt, it makes it very tricky to say he's a Hall of Famer.

PD: Do you believe Barry Bonds used PEDs [performance-enhancing drugs]?

KL: That's not for me to say. I won't say I believe anything about that, because it's my own personal answer or thought in my head.

PD: Is Alex Rodriguez a Hall of Famer?

KL: I would not vote for him for the Hall of Fame. He cheated the game, he admitted it, and the game acts like nothing happened. It's as if he got a slap on the wrist. There's something wrong with that.

PD: How much baseball do you watch these days?

KL: Not a lot, but more this year than at any point since I retired. I love the game, but I'll be honest with you: I'm upset with the game. I'm upset because I was put out of the game because I wasn't cheating the game, if that makes sense.

PD: It does.

KL: I could have cheated and put up better numbers. Then I could have cheated to stay in the game. But I didn't. I was clean and played by the rules. And I know there are people who cheated, cheated to extend their careers, and it's not right.

PD: So it's safe to say that you, as a clean player, are upset you were forced to compete periodically on an uneven playing field?

KL: Do I have a problem with it? Without a doubt. I have a huge problem with it. It sticks with me to this day, knowing that people were cheating and knowing I was playing against them, with them, whatever. What really ticks me off is that baseball could have done something about it but didn't.

PD: Please elaborate.

KL: It comes back to the emphasis on home runs, when they came out with the commercial campaign of 'Chicks Dig The Long Ball.' Baseball wanted guys to hit homers because it was good for business. Why do you think certain guys started hitting so many home runs?

PD: As a result, your contributions get overshadowed.

KL: When everybody started talking about the long ball, they forgot about the speed, which was my game. It took my impact from close to the top to middle/bottom. Once they emphasized the long ball, I was looked at as a totally different player.

PD: Word association -- '95 Indians?

KL: Outstanding.

PD: Albert Belle?

KL: Intense.

PD: Carlos Baerga?

KL: Had fun playing the game.

PD: Sandy Alomar Jr.?

KL: Very focused.

PD: Mike Hargrove?

KL: (Chuckle) He had a tough job.

PD: Manny Ramirez?

KL: Great hitter.

PD: Jim Thome?

KL: Very strong.

PD: Joel Skinner?

KL: Very technical.

PD: I thought you would say of Skins: 'Never should have held me at third in Game 7 of 2007 ALCS.'

KL: (Chuckle) I can't hold that against him. He was the one who held me up, but I can't blame him, per se. He needed to make a decision; he just made the wrong decision. It's like when a pitcher should have thrown the fastball but throws a curve and the guy hits a homer. It's not about blame.

PD: How did Pat Listach beat you out for AL Rookie of the Year in 1992?

KL: To this day, I don't know how. I'm still trying to figure that out. But it worked out in the end for me. No disrespect to Pat Listach, but if you would have told me that I'd get Rookie of the Year and have my career end like his, I would have said, 'I don't want Rookie of the Year. You can have it.'

PD: On Aug. 4, 1996, you made what many consider the greatest catch in Jacobs/Progressive Field history, scaling an 8-foot wall in center to bring back a potential two-run homer by B.J. Surhoff of the Orioles. Did you amaze even yourself on that one?

KL: I don't know how I did it, but it happened. I don't think people understand the difficulty involved. It was one of the best catches I made and one of the best I've seen on film.

PD: Any regrets about your career?

KL: Not winning the World Series. I wanted it badly, but it didn't happen. My career still was a lot of fun.

PD: Best player you ever played with?

KL: That's where it gets tough. Performance enhancing is what makes it tough for me to make that call.

PD: What made you the player you were?

KL: Focus, determination, love of the game.

PD: You seemed to play with a chip on your shoulder, as if you had something to prove. Is that accurate?

KL: I'm not sure I wanted to prove the doubters wrong as much as I wanted to let people know that, 'Hey, I'm an athlete, I can play this game.'

PD: How do you want to be remembered as a player?

KL: As a guy who played the game right, played it fair. As a guy who loved the game and respected it.

Andre Dawson - Hall of Fame

2010-07-23T18:20:00.000-07:00

"Andre Dawson, the Hawk. No player in baseball history worked harder, suffered more or did it better than Andre Dawson. He's the best I've ever seen. The Hawk. I watched him win MVP for a last-place team in 1987, and it was the most unbelievable thing I've ever seen in baseball. He did it the right way, the natural way, and he did it in the field and on the bases and in every way, and I hope he will stand up here someday."

--Ryne Sandberg during his Baseball Hall of Fame induction speech in July 2005

COOPERSTOWN, N.Y. -- Hall of Fame weekend is always an emotional time for inductees. Just imagine the pressure of standing on a stage in a coat and tie in 90-degree heat, trying to summarize a life and thank all the relevant contributors in 15 minutes or less. It can't be easy with the knowledge that 50-something baseball immortals are squirming in their seats and glancing at their watches directly behind you.

The day is equally poignant for former teammates, who sit among the crowd and reminisce along with the inductee. They're the ones who helped support him through slumps and streaks, on bus rides and plane trips, from rookie year to retirement. They can best relate to the sacrifices a Hall of Fame career entails.

Five years ago, Ryne Sandberg received his Hall plaque and used the forum to deliver a celebrity endorsement. Andre Dawson had barely cracked 50 percent in his fourth year on the ballot, and Sandberg feared his former teammate might become an afterthought in an age of cartoonish, steroid-fueled power numbers. So he took a moment in the middle of his speech to pay tribute to the Hawk, a man who embodied everything he held dear about the game.

"When I talked about respect for the game of baseball, he was the first teammate I thought of who fit that mold," Sandberg said. "I had a fear he'd lose out of going to the Hall of Fame based on the state of the game at that time in the steroid era. I felt like his numbers were being overlooked, and I wanted to put in a good word for him."

This Sunday in Cooperstown, the two ex-Cubs will swap roles. Dawson is entering the Hall along with former big league manager Whitey Herzog and umpire Doug Harvey, and Sandberg will be a spectator. He will not be thinking about the heat or fretting about whether he'll be able to catch a late Sunday flight out of Albany.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," said Sandberg, manager of the Cubs' Triple-A Iowa farm club. "It'll mean a lot -- the fact that we were teammates and I added him into my speech promoting him for the Hall of Fame. It feels gratifying to be right on that call. Andre is going in, and baseball got it right."

"When I talked about respect for the game of baseball, he was the first teammate I thought of who fit that mold," Sandberg said. "I had a fear he'd lose out of going to the Hall of Fame based on the state of the game at that time in the steroid era. I felt like his numbers were being overlooked, and I wanted to put in a good word for him."

This Sunday in Cooperstown, the two ex-Cubs will swap roles. Dawson is entering the Hall along with former big league manager Whitey Herzog and umpire Doug Harvey, and Sandberg will be a spectator. He will not be thinking about the heat or fretting about whether he'll be able to catch a late Sunday flight out of Albany.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," said Sandberg, manager of the Cubs' Triple-A Iowa farm club. "It'll mean a lot -- the fact that we were teammates and I added him into my speech promoting him for the Hall of Fame. It feels gratifying to be right on that call. Andre is going in, and baseball got it right."

Steinbrenner got beginning, ending right

2010-07-13T16:15:00.000-07:00

Steinbrenner got beginning, ending right

July, 13, 2010 Jul 134:55PM ETEmail Print Comments6 By Rob Neyer

I've been reluctant to write about George Steinbrenner today. I'm intimidated, just as so many of his employees were intimidated for so many years. Steinbrenner's personality -- not to mention his accomplishments -- seem so large as to crowd out some distant writer's quick summary. Some years ago, I wrote a biographical article about Steinbrenner that consisted solely of quotations, presented chronologically, without any attempt to link them with my own words. That's how big he was, and (in my mind, apparently) still is.

Instead of trying to summarize his 37 years as Yankees owner, let me instead focus on the beginning and the end, because frankly I think that's when George Steinbrenner did his best work. All that ugliness in the middle, including his suspensions -- during which, it might be said, the Yankees were best-ministered -- has been written about before and will be written about again, but perhaps today's not the day.

In 1973, anyone could have bought the Yankees for a song. But it was George Steinbrenner who cut a deal to purchase one of the world's greatest sports franchises for $8.8 million. Sure, it seems obvious now, just as drafting Albert Pujols in the 13th round seems obvious now. But if it was so obvious, why didn't someone else do it? Why didn't someone draft Albert Pujols in the 12th round? Why didn't somone offer CBS $9.8 million for the Yankees? Wouldn't that have been one of the great investments, ever?

So maybe it wasn't so obvious. Maybe George Steinbrenner, for whatever reason, was one of the few men able to see not only what the Yankees had been, but what they could be. That was 1973.

Steinbrenner was suspended in 1974. By the time of his reinstatement in 1976, the pieces were in place and the Yankees won four division titles, three American League pennants and two World Series in five years.

Steinbrenner was suspended again in 1990. By the time of his reinstatement in 1993, the pieces were in place and the Yankees would, in 1994, begin a brilliant run of success that hasn't let up and shows no signs of letting up.

It's not hard to conclude that the Yankees have always been best-served when Steinbrenner's hands were tied ... Or, as in the middle 1990s, when he chose to take a less active role.

Now, about the end. When it became clear that George Steinbrenner, though obviously a force of nature, might not live forever, thoughts naturally turned to King Lear and the perils of succession. Which son-in-law or daughter or son could possibly fill the Boss's gigantic loafers? Who could possibly drive the franchise the way he had driven it?

Nobody, perhaps. But perhaps that sort of driving isn't actually necessary. Perhaps unlimited financial resources combined with steady and intelligent management can accomplish just as much. More, perhaps. Whether George Steinbrenner understood this or not, the fact remains that as he made his slow and steady exit, he somehow left his beloved Yankees in the capable hands of his sons.

George Steinbrenner's been called a lot of things, over the years. But "Boss Lear" will never been one of them. He got the ending right.Share

University School revives Opening Day tradition

2010-04-14T02:56:00.000-07:00

University School revives Opening Day tradition
By Pat Galbincea, The Plain Dealer
April 12, 2010, 9:00PM
US.jpgThomas Ondrey, The Plain DealerUniversity School students enjoy the Indians home opener Monday at Progressive Field. From left are: Morgan Karon, Sandy Cohn, Spencer Krantz, Stefan Leonard and Eli Weisblat.CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Even before the first pitch, the day was made for a group of first-graders taking in Monday's Indians home opener.

The traditional Opening Day pageantry of reds, whites and blues etched on the field of green is what the youngsters from University School will remember.

Jay Jarvis, 7, couldn't stop talking about the giant American flag carried onto the field.

"I loved that flag and the stars that were also there," said Jay, of Cleveland. "I thought I'd be happy just seeing Slider [the Indians mascot]. What I wonder is how they got that flag cut out."

The patriotic colors presented in a different form got to Nicholas Nordell, 7.

"I go crazy over balloons," said the Gates Mills resident, "and it was cool when they launched them."

Nicholas had a great perch from which to watch the balloons drift out of Progressive Field. The 15 pupils sat in Section 575, way up and out in left field, in the general direction the wind carried the balloons.

The first-graders were at the game in part as a revival of a University School tradition. From 1890 to 1926, the school was on Hough Avenue, on Cleveland's East Side. Nearby was League Park, where the Indians played.

Starting in 1909, the school closed on Opening Day to let students and teachers attend the game. The practice continued even after both the Indians and the school moved out of the neighborhood. The Indians went downtown, and the school headed for Shaker Heights. In 1969 -- the year before US added a campus in Hunting Valley for its older students -- the school changed its policy and required staffers and students to have game tickets to get the day off, said Dick Parke, a University School math teacher and graduate.

The trip to Progressive Field was folded into the integrated theme curriculum the all-male private school has in its lower grades, said teacher Diane Meister. The first grade's current theme is Cleveland, with a focus on how sports developed as the city grew.

The idea on Monday was to participate as the community came together for a common goal -- to cheer the home nine to victory, and to see that it takes a whole lot of workers to make a sports team successful.

It was the first field trip for the kids. "We didn't have to twist any arms for them to go," said teacher Madeline Yano.

They took the rapid transit to the game, and had several interesting experiences.

Those sitting in Row R had to scramble in the third inning when a fan behind them spilled his beer. Luckily, nobody got an unwanted baptism.

Student Spencer Krantz, of Pepper Pike, was chewing on nachos at the end of the first inning, and lost a baby tooth that he was quick to display. Could that have prompted another tradition Monday night -- a visit from the tooth fairy?

Pitching coach Belcher says Fausto Carmona deserves credit for strong start: Indians Insider

2010-04-13T04:42:00.000-07:00

Pitching coach Belcher says Fausto Carmona deserves credit for strong start: Indians Insider

By Paul Hoynes, The Plain Dealer
April 12, 2010, 10:29PM
Chuck Crow / The Plain Dealer“In my first game, I was too quick [in the delivery]," said Fausto Carmona after Monday's game. "I know I’ve struggled against this team, so I tried to throw more strikes.” CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Pitching coach Tim Belcher says he's an innocent bystander in a productive spring training and two good starts in the regular season by Fausto Carmona.

"To be honest with you, I stand behind Fausto when he's throwing his bullpens and count pitches," said Belcher. "When he's got good tempo, when he's got good mechanics as far as staying back over the rubber, I say, 'Good boy.' When he doesn't, I don't say anything.

"He's done a good job self-correcting himself. He's done most of it himself."

The Indians lost Monday's home opener to Texas, 4-2, in 10 innings. Carmona was not involved in the decision, pitching eight strong innings. He held the Rangers to two runs on five hits in 111 pitches. He did walk four, giving him 10 for the season, but he was the first Tribe starter to reach eight innings.

"I felt good today," said Carmona, 1-0 with a 3.21 ERA. "In my first game, I was too quick [in his delivery]. I know I've struggled against this team, so I tried to throw more strikes."

The Rangers are 6-2 against Carmona.

Out again: Grady Sizemore missed his second straight game with a stiff back Monday. The back tightened Sunday in Detroit while he was hitting in the cages.

It was a fast ball: Hall of Famer Bob Feller, the winningest pitcher in Indians history, threw out the first pitch to first base coach Sandy Alomar Jr. Feller and the Indians were celebrating the 70th anniversary of his opening day no-hitter on April 16, 1940.

No dice: Indians went 0-3 in home openers in the first seven games of the season. They lost openers in Chicago and Detroit before losing their own.

Fast start: Catching prospect Carlos Santana finished his first week at Class AAA Columbus by winning the International League's Player of the Week Award. Santana, in his first four games, hit .438 with four homers and eight RBI.

More ice, please: Catcher Mike Redmond is not going to feel good on Tuesday morning. Redmond, Carmona's personal catcher, was hit above the left knee cap and right thigh on foul tips off the bat of catcher Taylor Teagarden in the fifth inning.

In the seventh inning, Teagarden hit him in the right shoulder with a foul tip.

"I told him, 'What did I ever do to you?'" said Redmond.

Wild pitches: When Manny Acta was asked before Monday's game about closer Chris Perez criticizing catcher Lou Marson for not stopping a wild pitch in the ninth inning Sunday against Detroit, Acta said, "My energy is focused on today's game, not comments from [Sunday]."

In Sunday's 9-8 loss, Perez wild-pitched the winning run home in the ninth.

Keep it short: When asked if Shin-Soo Choo forgot how many out there were when he took off from first on Travis Hafner's routine fly ball with one out in the third, Acta simply said, "Yes."

Homecoming: Former Indians first baseman Ryan Garko returned to Progressive Field for the first time since the Tribe dealt him to San Francisco last season. He pinch-hit in ninth inning with the bases loaded and popped up to second.

Since then Garko has been on the move, signing with Seattle in February before being claimed off waivers by Texas on April 1.

"It's good to be back," he said before Monday's opener. "I had a lot of great memories here. I loved it here. I played hard, felt I left it on the field, you know, but it'll be weird coming out of the other dugout, that's for sure."

Finally: Actor Corbin Bernsen, who, among other roles, played third baseman Roger Dorn in "Major League," will throw the ceremonial first pitch before Saturday's game against Chicago. He's in town producing a film to help save the financially struggling Soap Box Derby. ... After addressing a throng of reporters in his office after Monday home opener, Acta said, "I expect to see each and everyone of you back here Wednesday." There will be significantly fewer reporters and fans for Wednesday's game.

Staff writer Bill Lubinger contributed to this

Manager Manny Acta inspires with action and words: Indians Insider

2010-02-27T16:02:00.000-08:00

GOODYEAR, Ariz. -- Manager Manny Acta threw a curveball to reporters Thursday when he said he was going to give his "Vincente Lombardo" speech to his players before the Indians first full-squad workout Friday.

Vincente Lombardo, translated, is a reference to football coaching legend Vince Lombardi.
"I just dropped that name on you guys," said Acta after Friday's workout. "I'm not a Vince Lombardi-type guy. I'm a John Wooden-type of guy. I've never met him personally, but coach Wooden has made the most impact on my career as a coach. I read his biography and a lot of other books."

Acta's said he's used Wooden's pyramid of success theory wherever he's won in the minors and winter ball.

"He believes good things happen to good people. It worked for him. You have to admire a guy who has lived the way he has lived. And a guy who had the patience to lose for 14 years in a row and then became the greatest [men's college basketball] coach ever in this country."

Wooden is the former UCLA basketball coach who won 10 NCAA championships.

The Indians have been picked to finish last or close to last in the AL Central this year. The Sporting News ranks them as the worst team in the big leagues. Acta touched on that in his speech.

"It's freedom of speech here," he said. "We respect all of your opinions, we just don't have to believe it. You have to be positive and believe you can do it."

Acta was a blur for most of practice. He sprinted from one field to the next. He hit grounders to infielders. At the end of one drill, he grabbed an empty bucket and sprinted to short left field to help coaches and players pick up baseballs.

It's safe to say no other Indians manager in the past 28 years has done that.

"I've always done that," said Acta. "I used to be an infield instructor and third base coach. I'm not going to stop instructing and [coaching] just because I'm manager."

The only thing Acta can't do is throw batting practice. He had surgery on his right shoulder in September, the result of throwing batting practice for 20 years. He could be back in the mound in a couple of months.

"I just don't like to be standing behind the batting cage," Acta said.

As for his speech, Indians outfielder/first baseman Matt LaPorta said, "It fired me up

Where do I fit? LaPorta, who worked out with the team Friday, says he tentatively will be able to play in Cactus League games starting March 10. He's recovering from surgery on his left big toe and left hip.

He'll keep taking grounders at first base, but once he gets on a running program, he'll gradually move to left field. He's still a man without a position, knocked loose of his moorings at first base by the acquisition of Russell Branyan.

"I can't worry about positions until I'm 100 percent healthy," LaPorta said.
Acta said LaPorta or Michael Brantley will bear the brunt of Branyan's presence with a probable trip to Class AAA Columbus.
"If Matt is healthy, he's going to get 500 at-bats somewhere," Acta said. "We've still got 40 days to go. Let's see what happens."

Old friend: Carlos Baerga, doing games for ESPN Deportes, stopped by the Indians' complex Friday.

"You might see me coaching next year," Baerga said.

Good tracking: Indians hitters looked, but didn't swing at the offerings from their pitching teammates Friday. They'll do the same thing today before starting to swing Sunday.
Hitters "track" pitches instead of swinging at them. Acta believes batters are at a disadvantage this early in camp and could fall into bad habits by swinging so early in camp. He did it last year with Washington.

Finally: Jeremy Sowers (left shoulder), who threw a bullpen session Friday, could get into a Cactus League game before the end of spring training. . . . Acta said second base is "Luis Valbuena's job to lose." . . . Brian Bixler, competing for a utility infielder's job, could get a look in center. The Pirates played him there last year.

Former Cleveland Indians pitcher Jim Bibby dead at 65

2010-02-27T15:52:00.000-08:00

Former Cleveland Indians pitcher Jim Bibby dead at 65
By Plain Dealer staff
February 17, 2010, 5:00PM
UPDATED: 5 p.m.

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Hard-throwing right-hander Jim Bibby, who pitched for the Indians from 1975-77, died at age 65 on Tuesday night in Lynchburg, Va.

The cause was not disclosed. The family said a statement would be released later.

The 6-5 Bibby went 111-101 with a 3.76 earned run average for four teams in a major league career that began in 1972. The Indians traded Hall of Fame pitcher Gaylord Perry to the Texas Rangers for Bibby, pitchers Rick Waits and Jackie Brown and $100,000 on June 13, 1975.

Bibby compiled a 30-29 record in the next 2 1/2 seasons with the Indians, with four saves, a 3.36 ERA and 63 starts among his 95 appearances.

The way the Indians lost Bibby was symbolic of that era's financially-strapped Cleveland franchise. Bibby's 1977 contract with the Indians included a $10,000 bonus if he made at least 30 starts. He pitched in 37 games, making exactly 30 starts. The Indians failed to pay Bibby the money on time, and while the team was in spring training for the 1978 season, an arbitrator ruled that Bibby be declared a free agent.

Bibby signed with the Pittsburgh Pirates. He helped them win the 1979 World Series, going 12-4 with a 2.81 ERA, then posting a 2.08 ERA in three postseason starts -- including two in the World Series against the Baltimore Orioles -- although he wasn't credited with a decision.

Bibby pitched the first no-hitter in Rangers history, a 6-0 win over Oakland in 1973. He had a 19-19 record with Texas in 1974, and went 19-6 and made the National League all-star team with the Pirates in 1980.

Bibby's brother, Henry, 60, played nine seasons in the NBA.

Former Cleveland Indians shortstop and manager George Strickland dies at 84

2010-02-27T15:49:00.000-08:00

Former Cleveland Indians shortstop and manager George Strickland dies at 84
By Plain Dealer staff and wire reports
February 23, 2010, 3:33PM

ToppsIndians shortstop George Strickland's 1958 Topps baseball card.By Nakia Hogan
The Times-Picayune

George Strickland, the slick-fielding shortstop for the Indians in their historic 1954 season and a two-time interim manager for the team, died on Sunday at 84.

The Indians acquired Strickland in a trade with the Pittsburgh Pirates on Aug. 18, 1952. Playing in an era when the value of middle infielders was determined by their fielding and not their hitting, Strickland batted .233 with 22 home runs and 213 runs batted in for the Indians before he was released on Aug. 3, 1960.

For much of his time with the Indians, Strickland's glove ably backed the Indians' famed "Big Four" starting pitchers: Hall of Famers Bob Feller, Bob Lemon and Early Wynn, and all-star Mike Garcia.

Strickland played 112 games, batting .213 with six homers and 37 RBI, in 1954, when Cleveland set what was then an American League record for wins, finishing 111-43 before being swept in the World Series by the New York Giants.

Strickland was an Indians coach from 1963-69, usually stationed at third base. His first stint as Cleveland's interim manager began on April 2, 1964, one day after manager Birdie Tebbetts suffered a heart attack, and days before the start of the season. The Indians went 33-39 with Strickland at the helm, before Tebbetts returned on July 5.

Cleveland began the 1966 season 27-10, but had slumped to a 66-57 record when Tebbetts was dismissed as the manager on Aug. 19. Strickland took over, and Cleveland went 15-24 the rest of the way to finish 81-81. Strickland went back to his duties as the third base coach when Joe Adcock was hired as the manager.

Strickland, a New Orleans native who was a standout baseball player at S.J. Peters High School in the early 1940s and played two seasons with the New Orleans Pelicans of the Southern Association, was one of that city's more celebrated players.

Nicknamed "Bo," Strickland was one of the more provocative speakers among a group of retired athletes in the New Orleans area who met once a week for lunch and some good-old-days conversation.

Strickland often was the life of the party.

"Everybody wanted to sit near George at those things," said local baseball historian Peter Barrouquere, a former Times-Picayune reporter. "He told the most amazing stories. When (Hall of Fame pitcher) Bob Lemon passed away, he kept us going for 3 1/2 hours with Bob Lemon stories. He had us in stitches."

Mel Parnell, a former All-Star pitcher with the Boston Red Sox and a high school teammate of Strickland, agreed.

"It was great getting together like that because we had a mixture of athletes," Parnell said. "We have baseball, football, basketball, a boxing referee and a race horse trainer. And we all talked about our profession. We would bring up stories about our playing days, which were interesting."
Strickland had much to talk about.

After graduating from high school, Strickland served in the Navy in 1944 and '45. He then spent five years in the minor leagues, including two seasons with the Pelicans, before making his major league debut in 1950.

Strickland made the Pirates in 1950, and including his time with them, he had a career batting average of .224 with 36 homers and 284 RBI.

Breaking down the big questions as the Cleveland Indians prepare for spring training: Analysis

2010-02-27T15:42:00.000-08:00

Breaking down the big questions as the Cleveland Indians prepare for spring training: Analysis
By Paul Hoynes, The Plain Dealer
February 20, 2010, 8:08PM

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Spring training is here. Where did the winter go?
There's still evidence of it on neighborhood streets and roofs, but in Goodyear, Ariz., a snowflake doesn't stand a chance. Maybe the winter has been hidden from view because of the frantic pace of the Indians' off-season maneuvering.
Excuse me, there was no maneuvering.
Seattle maneuvered. So did the Angels, Rangers, A's, Red Sox, Blue Jays and Orioles. The Twins were busy. The same with Detroit, the White Sox and Royals. The Pirates, Nationals, Reds, Astros, Giants and Diamondbacks had people coming and going at a rapid rate.
The Indians opted to strike it rich through a bevy of non-guaranteed, minor-league contracts. Maybe it will work in one or two instances, but it's not the recommended way to build a team.
Then again, the Indians say they're beyond the rebuild stage. The 162-game season, which begins April 5 in Chicago, will test a portion of that belief.
Right now new manager Manny Acta and his new coaching staff, starting Sunday, have six weeks -- 43 days, to be exact -- to discover the beginnings of what kind of team they have.
Every team, be they World Series champion or also-ran, enters a new season with unanswered questions or key issues to be resolved. Some of the answers will come in spring training. Others won't be determined until well into the season. Injuries, roster moves and a player's talent will take care of the rest.
Here are the key issues facing the Indians.

WHAT KIND OF MANAGER IS MANNY ACTA?

Best-case scenario: Acta is able to repeat the small miracle he worked with the Nationals in his rookie season of 2007 when he built a starting rotation from scratch. The Nationals, picked to lose 100 games, went 73-89 and finished fourth in the NL East.
The Indians have given Acta better arms to work than he had in 2007. He still needs to find the right mix.
Worst-case scenario: The Indians resemble the uninspired Nats that some scouts saw under Acta in 2008 and 2009.
What will probably happen: Acta, the first Tribe manager to actually manage somewhere else in the big leagues besides Cleveland since John McNamara in 1990, uses that experience to establish a pressure-free teaching environment where young players can take a deep breath and relax. How many games they win is another question all together.

WHO WILL BE IN THE STARTING ROTATION?

Best-case scenario: Jake Westbrook's right elbow stays sound and he assumes the No. 1 spot. Fausto Carmona gets his head out of the clouds, his feet back on the ground and has his first winning season since 2007. Justin Masterson proves he's more starter than reliever. David Huff makes it two years in a row with double-digit victories. Aaron Laffey throws more strikes and stays strong the whole season. Carlos Carrasco, Mitch Talbot, Jeremy Sowers and Hector Rondon provide a safety net.
Worst-case scenario: The direct opposite of the above.
What will probably happen: A couple of starters will do well. A couple won't. Consistency and innings pitched will be a problem. The pen, which pitched the third most innings last year in the AL, will once again be overworked.

WHAT SEVEN PITCHERS WILL BE IN THE BULLPEN?

Best-case scenario: Closer Kerry Wood and set-up men Chris Perez, Rafael Perez, Tony Sipp and Joe Smith win the first five jobs. Jensen Lewis, Jamey Wright, Jason Grilli, Mike Gosling, Saul Rivera, Jess Todd, Talbot and Sowers will be the main competitors for the last two spots. There will be more competition in the pen than anywhere else in camp, except for the race to the players' cafeteria for breakfast and lunch.
Worst-case scenario: GM Mark Shapiro gets a deal he can't refuse and trades Wood before opening day. The bullpen, without a pressure-tested closer, is in a state of flux all year.
What will probably happen: Wood will be traded by midseason so he doesn't finish 55 games on the Tribe's watch to vest his $11 million option for 2011. Chris Perez takes over as closer, but he needs time to make the transition. Rafael Perez and Smith have bounce-back seasons, while the revolving door on the pen spins for the second straight year.

WHO'S GOING TO CATCH?

Best-case scenario: Veteran backup Mike Redmond pairs with rookies Lou Marson or Wyatt Toregas to keep the position warm until Carlos Santana -- scheduled to play some Cactus League games after breaking the hamate bone in his right hand in winter ball -- arrives from Class AAA Columbus. This is the thinnest the Indians' catching position has been in years.
Worst-case scenario: Marson and Toregas can't handle the everyday job. Santana, meanwhile, stalls in his first year at Class AAA. That means Redmond, 38, has to catch more than anticipated, but as Acta said in January: "I don't worry about his age. He's fresh. When you back up Joe Mauer, you don't play that much."
What will probably happen: Whichever rookie wins the job out of spring training does a decent job with the staff, but doesn't hit much. Redmond gets a chance to earn some of his games-played performance bonuses. Santana makes his big-league debut, but his impact won't be felt until 2011.

WHO'S GOING TO PLAY LEFT FIELD?

Best-case scenario: Michael Brantley picks up where he left off in September with a great spring to win the job. He gives Acta a speed element to put at the bottom of the lineup and link with Grady Sizemore in the No.1 spot. Trevor Crowe will back up Brantley as the fourth outfielder.
Worst-case scenario: Brantley isn't quite ready and needs more time at Columbus. Left field rotates among Crowe, Austin Kearns and Matt LaPorta. Even Shelley Duncan and Jordan Brown get into the act.
What will probably happen: Brantley opens the season in left, struggles and gets optioned to Columbus. He returns and takes over the job.

CAN GRADY SIZEMORE AND MATT LAPORTA STAY HEALTHY?

Best-case scenario: Sizemore (left elbow, left groin) returns to his All-Star, Gold Glove form in center field. LaPorta (left big toe, left hip) establishes himself as an every-day first baseman with the ability to play left or right field.
Worst-case scenario: Sizemore and/or LaPorta break down in spring training and aren't ready for the regular season. Indians scramble to replace them.
What will probably happen: From all reports, Sizemore and LaPorta should have the green light in spring training. They'll be handled carefully, but should be ready to open the season. If not, the Indians' depth will be tested.

IS LUIS VALBUENA AN EVERYDAY SECOND BASEMAN?

Best-case scenario: Despite the Indians' efforts to sign veteran second baseman Orlando Hudson this winter, Valbuena shows he can hit left-handers (.205 last year), improves his on-base percentage (.298) and maintains his extra-base hit ability (38 extra-base hits out of 92 overall last year).
Worst-case scenario: The AL adjusts to Valbuena, but he doesn't adjust back. Hello sophomore jinx.
What will probably happen: Mark Grudzielanek, Brian Bixler, or one of the other utility infielders the Indians have signed will play second when Valbuena needs a break against a left-hander.

WHEN DO NICK HAGADONE AND JASON KNAPP GET TO THE BIG LEAGUES?

Best-case scenario: The left-handed Hagadone, 24, could be banging on the door of Progressive Field by the middle of the 2011 season if he gets through this season healthy and with no performance setbacks. Obtained in the Victor Martinez trade, he's 6-5, 230 and typically throws between 93-94 mph. He can touch 98 mph and is projected as a front-of-the-rotation starter or closer.
Knapp, 19, is coming off right shoulder surgery and it's going to take him longer. The top prospect in the Cliff Lee deal is 6-5, 215 and throws between 93-95 mph. The Indians think he can be a top starter or closer.
Hagadone and Knapp will probably start at Class A Kinston this year, but while Hagadone could progress quickly, Knapp will be on a slower track because of his age and injury. He's got a chance to be in Cleveland late in the 2012 season, but more likely sometime in 2013.
Worst-case scenario: Hagadone and Knapp turn into the second and third coming of Adam Miller.
What will probably happen: Perhaps one of the two gets to Cleveland and pitches well. If they both make it, and pitch to expectations, it will make the Martinez and Lee deals easier to live with.

2010-02-27T15:40:00.000-08:00

Cleveland Indians are playing catch-up behind the plate during spring training
By Paul Hoynes, The Plain Dealer
February 26, 2010, 5:00AM

GOODYEAR, Ariz. -- The Indians have started spring training without a regular catcher. It's a problem because someone has to get behind the plate or every pitch is going to bounce to the backstop.

It's a unique situation for the Indians because over the past 6-1/2 years three-time All-Star Victor Martinez took care of that unpleasant job. Last spring, the Indians had what many teams considered two starting catchers in Martinez and Kelly Shoppach.

Martinez was traded to Boston in July to save money. Shoppach was traded to Tampa Bay in December for the same reason, but on a smaller scale.
It's going to take a while to assemble the pieces left behind.
Lou Marson and Wyatt Toregas, who don't have a year's time in the big leagues between them, will hold a catch-off for the starting job. It starts today with the first full-squad workout and could last until early April.

Veteran Mike Redmond was signed to help the winner over the rough spots of the season.
If Marson or Toregas aren't the answer, Carlos Santana will be waiting at Class AAA Columbus to save the day.

Sounds logical, but when was the last time logic worked for the Indians?
Manny Acta, like all managers, requires a lot more than offense from his catchers.
"Nobody is just going to throw a pitch with conviction just because you can swing the stick," said Acta. "You need to earn their trust."

Acta is looking for a catcher who calls a good game, works well with the pitching staff, blocks balls in the dirt and throws well. But most of all, he's looking for a catcher who can get the best out of whatever pitcher is on the mound when he's behind the plate.

Toregas and Marson have been listening

"You want to take all the pressure off your pitcher when he's on the mound," said Toregas, a 24th-round draft choice by the Indians in 2004. "You don't want him to think about what pitch he wants to throw."

Toregas made his big-league debut Aug. 1, the day after Martinez was traded. Toregas appeared in 19 games and hit .176 (9-for-51) with six RBI.

Marson came to the Indians from Philadelphia in the Cliff Lee trade July 29. He caught 21 games in the big leagues last year, seven with the Phillies and 14 with the Indians.

"It was a great experience last year," said Marson, a fourth-round pick in 2004. "It doesn't matter what fingers you put down, what matters is that they trust what you put down. That's what I'm going to try and get out of this spring."

Marson caught 14 games in September. That could give him an edge. He hit .250 (11-for-44) with four RBI last year with the Tribe. In 22 games in the big leagues, including one in 2008, he has hit one homer.

"Marson is a guy who gives you an approach to hitting that translates to the big leagues," said GM Mark Shapiro. "Obviously, he doesn't have a lot of power, but he puts the ball in play and gets on base."

The best part of Toregas' game is defense, but he hit .284 (59-for-208) with 10 doubles, seven homers and 29 RBI last year at Columbus.

"He calls a good game, blocks well, has a pretty good arm," said Shapiro. "Last year, his bat made some strides and that was good to see."

Hovering over Marson and Toregas is Santana, the Indians' top prospect. He seems recovered from a broken hamate bone in his right hand, but Acta and Shapiro have made it clear he will spend the year at Columbus, despite bringing the Class AA Eastern League to its knees last year by hitting .290 (124-for-428) with 30 doubles, two triples, 23 homers and 97 RBI.
"We're really excited about Carlos, but he's a guy who has never caught a Class AAA game," said Shapiro. "We love his tools, we love his production to date, it's just that we feel he's going to benefit from some finishing."

Shapiro would not say if Santana would make his big-league debut this year.
"That's a byproduct of his progression and whoever is the starting catcher," said Shapiro.

Don't cry over Robbie, save your tears for Bert Blyleven

2010-01-08T00:37:00.000-08:00

Don't cry over Robbie Alomar, save your tears for Bert Blyleven
By Paul Hoynes, The Plain Dealer
January 06, 2010, 5:16PM
UPDATED: 5:16 p.m.

Chuck Crow / The Plain DealerRoberto Alomar was the best all-around player Paul Hoynes has ever seen, and he finished a handful of votes short of the Hall of Fame in his first year on the ballot.CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Robbie Alomar deserved election to the Hall of Fame on the first ballot today by the Baseball Writers Association of America. He didn't get it, but he's still the best all-around player I've ever seen.

Weep not for Alomar. He has 14 years left on the ballot and should make it next year after receiving 73.7 of the required 75 percent of the vote. It's the most votes a first-year player has ever received and not gotten elected.

Rusty Kennedy / Associated PressJust five votes short of Cooperstown, Bert Blyleven has had to wait an unbelievable 13 years on the Hall of Fame ballot, says Paul Hoynes.The guy I feel bad for is Bert Blyleven, who received 74.2 percent of the vote. The winner of 287 games missed enshrinement by five votes in his 13th year on the ballot. It is small and cruel margin for a pitcher who threw 60 shutouts and 242 complete games in a 22-year career.

Blyleven, who pitched for the Indians from 1981-85, has two years left on the ballot. The five-vote shortfall is the fifth fewest in history, trailing Nellie Fox (four), Pie Traynor (four), Billy Williams (two) and Jim Bunning (two). Those four eventually made it to Cooperstown, but Bunning and Fox ran out of time on the BBWAA's ballot and were elected by the Veterans Committee, which can be its own box of snakes.

I watched Blyleven win 19 games for the Indians in 1984. I still don't know how he did it. They lost 87 games that year and finished 29 1/2 games out of first place.

Blyleven's shortstop was Julio Franco, who made 36 errors. His closer was Ernie Camacho. Manager Pat Corrales had to come out in the ninth inning of almost every save situation and punch Camacho in the chest to remind him to forget his curve, slider and change-up and just throw his 98 mph fastball.

"No, tricks, Ernie," Corrales would scream.

Writers vote the way they do for many reasons. I believe the growth and interpretation of statistics has become more and more a factor in the process. It's one thing to watch a player throughout his career. It's another to put his statistics through a series of mathematical hoops to prove a point.

Blyleven was a Hall of Famer the day his career ended in 1992. He's still one today even if five votes say he isn't. A look at the percentage of votes he's received over the last 13 years show how the writers have been slow to warm to him: 18 percent in 1998; 14 percent 1999, 17 percent 2000; 24 percent 2001; 26 percent 2002; 29 percent 2003, 35 percent 2004; 41 percent 2005; 53 percent 2006; 48 percent 2007; 62 percent 2008, 63 percent 2009 and 74.2 percent in 2010.

I watched Alomar for the three years he played in Cleveland from 1999 to 2001. There was nothing he couldn't do. He hit for average and power. He stole bases. He played defense as if he invented the concept.

Was he a diva? Certainly. He's still the only player I've seen who caused a clubhouse ruckus because he didn't feel his pitcher hit a Cincinnati batter as hard as he'd been hit by a Cincinnati pitcher. Still, to watch Alomar and Omar Vizquel play the middle of the diamond for three years negated a lot of pettiness.

Drama and Alomar were never far apart. There was the spitting incident with plate umpire John Hirschbeck. When the Indians traded him to the Mets after the 2001 season, his drop in production was startling. Then came a lawsuit by a former girlfriend that he had AIDS.
These things may have cost Alomar votes, but they won't keep him out of Cooperstown. He missed by only seven votes this year.

BBWAA writers with 10 years experience are eligible to vote for the Hall of Fame. They can vote for as many as 10 players on the ballot. Here's mine:

• Alomar: He could have won the AL MVP in any of the three years he played in Cleveland.
• Blyleven: I don't understand why he's had to wait so long.

• Harold Baines: Career .289 hitter with 2,866 hits. He would have been an automatic Hall of Famer with 134 more hits.

• Andre Dawson: The Hawk was the only player elected by the writers this year. The late Hall of Fame baseball writer Jerome Holtzman told me Dawson was one of the few players he'd ever covered who could inspire a bad team to be better than they were. Eight Gold Gloves, 438 homers, 1,591 RBI and 314 steals helped the cause.

• Barry Larkin: Shortstop with good power. He hit .353 in the 1990 World Series when the Reds upset Oakland.

• Edgar Martinez: Has there ever been a hitter who has scared more Indians fans than Martinez?

• Jack Morris: Like Blyleven, I can't understand why Morris wasn't elected a long time ago. Critics say his ERA is too high. All I know is he was the winningest pitcher in the 1980s. That means he dominated his craft for 10 years.

• Tim Raines: I missed his prime years with the Expos. The stats say he's the best leadoff hitter this side of Rickey Henderson.

• Alan Trammell: I was voting for Trammell before Larkin came on the ballot this year. Quality player for a long time.

• Lee Smith: Before Trevor Hoffman and Mariano Rivera, there was Lee Smith and his 478 saves.

For parents, sons, daughters and all generations, baseball still matters: Bill Livingston

2009-12-25T01:44:00.001-08:00

For parents, sons, daughters and all generations, baseball still matters: Bill Livingston
By Bill Livingston, The Plain Dealer
December 19, 2009, 8:29PM

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- My Aunt Wilma was the youngest of eight children who grew up in the Oklahoma Dust Bowl, while my father was the oldest. They were still the closest of them all.
She and my dad were drawn together by a love of reading, usually from the Collier's, Life and Saturday Evening Post magazines that surrounded them, and by baseball, to which each gave a lifetime of devotion.
My dad was a St. Louis Cardinals fan, born and died one. They were the team of the entire Southwest because of the reach of KMOX on the AM radio dial in the years before baseball expansion.
My aunt had no interest in the first major-league Texas team, the Houston Colt .45s, who soon were re-named the Astros. But the Texas Rangers were different. They were her team from the moment the old Washington Senators plopped down within easy driving distance of her until she died last month at the age of 86.
This will be my first Christmas without her. The stock of wisdom and laughter in the world went down when she left it.
I was able to spend an afternoon with her this summer in Texas, when she was in an assisted-living facility. She could still get around in her small apartment, and she had a TV set there. I am sure she had the Rangers schedule close at hand. Long after she was widowed, she passed her nights in the company of Nolan Ryan's fastball, which could bring the heat like the sweat-popping, eye-glazing 100-degree Dallas nights outside.
She rooted for the Indians when they reached the World Series in 1995 and 1997. She said it was because she had family here, but I also think it was because she could relate to the exquisite frustration of excellence that went unrewarded. She had seen Ryan and the young, still-precocious Alex Rodriguez toil valiantly in lost causes night after night.
She and her daughter Sissy visited Canton to see the Pro Football Hall of Fame several years ago. I made sure to set up a trip to Jacobs Field, too. The Tribe was out of town, but Aunt Wilma remembered how my dad would schedule his vacation so he could watch the daytime World Series games on television. Seeing the place where a World Series was played, in person, seemed to be her own field of dreams.
We started at the Bob Feller statue, in which Feller is rearing back to throw the hard one. His leg is just beginning its high kick. He knew how far his fastball might take him, and he was anxious to get started on the journey. Every Depression kid could relate to that leggy, hungry drive for success.
An RBI League (the initials stand for Returning Baseball to the Inner City) game was going on at the park. That was ironic. In earlier generations, more people followed baseball than the other sports combined. Every sportswriter can tell you he gets more mail from female readers about baseball than anything else. It used to transcend age, place and gender.
We took photographs of each other in the press box and stared out at the beautiful ballpark. Then we "borrowed" some paper napkins with Chief Wahoo's face on them, which she kept as souvenirs.
Richard Jacobs, the man who gave the park its name, is gone now, and so is his name on the building, and so is my aunt. After she died, I contacted the Indians staff and thanked them for their kindness years ago. Tribe communications director Curtis Danburg replied, "Sometimes we take for granted the impact this place and the game of baseball has on people."
He got that right.
My aunt kept saying, "I can't believe I'm in Jacobs Field, where they played the World Series!" Then, her hands would flutter up, and she would clasp them over her heart.

2009-12-10T12:28:00.000-08:00

NDIANAPOLIS -- Manny does hats.

Looking as dapper as Frank Sinatra, or Humphrey Bogart in one of those old black-and-white detective movies, the Indians' new manager met the press Tuesday at the winter meetings wearing a black fedora to go along with his black jacket, shirt and pants.
"I like hats," said Acta.

Acta moved easily through the Indianapolis Downtown Marriott. He seemed to know everyone. He bumped fists with Jim Bowden, the general manager who hired him to manage the Nationals in 2007.

"I said when we hired him he was going to be the next Jim Leyland and I still feel the same way," said Bowden.

Acta couldn't take two steps in the crowded lobby without somebody hugging him, shaking his hand or interviewing him. He was a man in his element.

When Acta sat down at his designated table to talk to reporters, someone said Tony La Russa had been drinking out of a can of nearby Pepsi during an earlier interview. Acta grabbed the can and rolled it on his sleeve.

"I want to rub a little of him on me," he said.
Then he started talking about the Indians.

"The first thing we need to do is stop dwelling on the guys that left," said Acta, "because they're not coming back. We need to embrace the new kids that came aboard and are already ready to contribute at the big league level, and to face what it is.

"That's the type of team and market that we are. This is what we're going to do. We need to work hard, out-smart, out-work, out-scout, whatever we have to do to stop from falling into the excuse that we just don't have the right payroll."

The Indians' payroll is expected to be somewhere between $56 million and $65 million. Last year it was $85.1 million.

The list of players no longer here is long and familiar. Yet Acta does not think the Indians are starting over.

"I just don't agree when people are saying that we're rebuilding," he said, "because we have a lot of pieces in place."

He started naming names: Shin-Soo Choo in right field, Grady Sizemore in center, Asdrubal Cabrera at shortstop, Jhonny Peralta at third, Travis Hafner at designated hitter.

Then he turned to the farm system with Carlos Santana, Hector Rondon, Nick Weglarz, Carlos Carrasco and others. The Indians' youth and farm system was as important as the third guaranteed year GM Mark Shapiro gave Acta in prying him away from Houston in November.

Some forms of perfection come with flaws.

Acta knows that Jake Westbrook and Fausto Carmona, his two most experienced starters, have to prove they can still pitch and win in the big leagues. He has to piece together the rest of the rotation from the suspect talents of Justin Masterson, David Huff, Aaron Laffey, Jeremy Sowers, Rondon and Carrasco.

In the middle of the lineup, Travis Hafner must rediscover himself after two years of injury and poor performance. Left field has to be settled among Trevor Crowe, Michael Brantley and Jordan Brown. Matt LaPorta has to recover from two surgeries and prove he can play first base every day. No one knows if rookie Lou Marson is an everyday catcher.

In the bullpen, closer Kerry Wood needs consistent work and Rafael Perez needs to leave last year's demons behind. Jensen Lewis has to keep the ball in the park and Tony Sipp and Chris Perez must prove their hot streaks last season weren't mirages.

Then there is the biggest problem of all: how to deal with Sizemore's pirated Internet pictures to his girlfriend?

"I haven't seen them, because that's really not going to help me win one more game," said Acta. "I think it's sad, people using stuff like that to basically get into people's private lives. But you have to be aware of it."

Acta said he'll go to spring training with the idea of winning the AL Central. He expects the same from his players.

"We don't want to compete, we want to win," he said. "That's what we want to establish."

Lovullo's right! - Oct 23

2009-10-23T18:38:00.000-07:00

Associated Press
CLEVELAND -- Torey Lovullo wants a chance to manage the Cleveland Indians after spending the last eight seasons working in the club's farm system.

"I'm familiar with the setting," Lovullo said Friday, after interviewing a second time with general manager Mark Shapiro. "This team is a lot further along than some might believe."
Lovullo emphasized his desire to take the job if it's offered to him.

"I have prepared for this and am ready," he said, adding that playing for seven different managers in eight seasons, including Terry Francona, helped mold his managerial philosophies.
Francona guided the Boston Red Sox to World Series titles in 2004 and '07.

"What you really learn is what not to do," Lovullo said. "You learn from them all, but Terry's ability to communicate and relate to players is special."

Francona was a special assistant to Shapiro between jobs in Philadelphia and Boston.

Lovullo managed 35 players at Triple-A Columbus who played this year for Eric Wedge, who was fired with six games left in his seventh season as Cleveland manager.

The constant shuttle was caused by injuries and poor play by the Indians, who finished 65-97, their worst record in 18 years.

Some players sent down told Lovullo they had lost confidence after being yanked in and out of the lineup or moved from position to position.

"I like to get a lineup and try not to change it," Lovullo said. "I'm big on team chemistry. I want players to know I have their back, that they can play relaxed and comfortable. ... But I expect an effort every day. This team can look different, act different and play different."
Better relief pitching would be a welcome change.

When Cleveland won the AL Central in 2007, Joe Borowski led the league with 45 saves and had a group of reliable relievers setting him up. Last winter, Shapiro signed Kerry Wood to a two-year, $20 million contract -- and the new closer got only 26 save chances all season.

"The biggest challenge to an AL manager is knowing how to run a bullpen," Lovullo said. "You try and put guys in a role in which they are comfortable."

Lovullo thinks he can get the team to start better than the 11-21 record it had by mid-May.
"The last few days of spring training, you have to change the mindset and prepare as if it is already opening day," Lovullo said. "I'd like to take the team on a three-day trip, like we were going on the road."

Lovullo made his major-league debut with Detroit in 1987. He also played for the New York Yankees, Angels, Seattle, Oakland, Cleveland and Philadelphia, before one final season in Japan. In 303 big-league games, mostly as a utility infielder, he hit .225 with 15 homers and 60 RBIs.

He became an Indians minor-league instructor in 2001 and a year later guided Columbus (Ga.) to the second-half championship in the Class A South Atlantic League.

He was manager of the year in 2004 at Class A Kinston (N.C.) and again in 2005 at Double-A Akron, where he guided the Aeros to an 84-58 record and the Eastern League championship.

Finding positives proved to be a challenge after Cleveland Indians' wasted

2009-10-11T03:12:00.000-07:00

Finding positives proved to be a challenge after Cleveland Indians' wasted

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- It's too easy to ask what went wrong with the 2009 Indians. Everyone knows by now.
People have been fired and traded because of it.

The harder question to ask and answer is what went right? Not much to be sure.
Asdrubal Cabrera had a nice year. The same with Shin-Soo Choo. Rookie David Huff won 11 games. Luis Valbuena hit 10 homers as a rookie. Tony Sipp and Chris Perez threw well at times out of the bullpen.
The Indians had a chance to look at a lot of rookies. There were 12 on the club when the season ended on Oct. 4 with a 12-7 loss to Boston. Said fired manager Eric Wedge, "Some have shown they belong in the big leagues. Some need more time in the minors."

Which sounds a lot like the scout, who in early June, when the Indians still had the team they thought would contend intact, said, "The Indians have a lot of big-league players. They just don't have any stars."
Since several of those big-league players were traded long ago, it makes one wonder where the Indians stand now.

At the All-Star break they were a collection of strangers. It's safe to say they ended the season the same way. When 52 players walk through the locker room door, it's hard to call anybody "buddy," much less remember his name.

The front office has always been a big believer in having leaders among its players. There weren't many to be found after the flurry of trades. Third baseman Jhonny Peralta has no inclination to lead. Travis Hafner started the year with one sore shoulder and ended it with two. Fausto Carmona was in the ozone the whole year and closer Kerry Wood never really got a chance to show what he could do on or off the field because he had so few save opportunities.

Grady Sizemore played for five months with a left elbow and left groin that needed surgery. When he finally shut it down in September to have two operations within a week of each other, the Indians turned into an expansion team.

Statistically speaking, the season was just as bad as it looked. Only six other teams in Indians history lost more games than this year's 65-97 club. The Indians have played baseball since 1901, so that covers a lot ground and a lot of bad baseball.

GM Mark Shapiro says this won't be a complete rebuild like he went through in 2003. He could start an argument in any bar in town with that statement. That is, if anybody is still talking about the Indians.

So whoever Shapiro hires as manager better come with the proper equipment. Only sledgehammers will do on this

FIVE REASONS WHYTHE INDIANS’ SEASON COLLAPSED

1. Desert delirium: When the Indians reported in February to their new $72 million spring training complex in Goodyear, Ariz., everything that ailed the franchise was going to be cured. No more would they have to contend with the antiquated facility in Winter Haven, Fla. While the complex offered everything a ballplayer needed, even if it did look like a detention center on the far side of the moon, the Indians, remarkably uninspired, lost 20 games in Cactus League play. The desert delirium persisted into the regular season as they lost seven of their first eight games to finish April with an 8-14 record. The pattern of the season was set.

2. Thou shall not save: The Indians’ bullpen, GM Mark Shapiro’s pride and joy in the off-season, blew 10 saves in the first two months of the season. In the next four months, they blew eight.They had 10 games decided in the eighth inning or later in April and May. The Indians went 2-8 in those games.

3. Take your pick: David Dellucci and Masa Kobayashi were a waste of roster space. Grady Sizemore played hurt all year. They waited too long to promote Andy Marte and Matt LaPorta from Class AAA Columbus.The pitchers walked too many batters. The hitters struck out too much. Travis Hafner was a shadow of himself. Manager Eric Wedge changed the lineup too much. Owner Larry Dolan is cheap. Shapiro can’t judge talent. Chris Gimenez played too much. Jordan Brown could have saved the season if they’d only called him up. Winston Abreu was really a spy planted by the four other AL Central teams to sabotage the Tribe’s season.

4. They messed with the gulls: When Shin-Soo Choo’s game-winning single in the 10th inning deflected off a gull in center field on June 11, the Indians should have embraced the moment. They should have done everything possible to cater to the flocks of gulls that had descended into Progressive Field over the previous games. Instead, they set off fireworks between innings to keep the gulls away. The fireworks worked and kept the Indians from being embarrassed in a string of nationally televised games, but it ruined what would have been the best home-field advantage this side of the Metrodome.The Indians were 27-36 and seven games out of first place after Choo’s single. They went 38-61 the rest of the year and buzzards replaced the gulls above the ballpark.

5. It’s the trades, stupid: This is the old chicken or the egg argument. Were the Indians going to break the team up all along? Or were they waiting until midseason to see how they were going before conducting a fire sale?It didn’t matter because after the deals of Mark DeRosa, Rafael Betancourt, Ryan Garko, Cliff Lee, Ben Francisco, Victor Martinez and Carl Pavano, the Indians were as bad a team as there was in the big leagues. After Pavano was traded on Aug. 7, the Indians finished the year by going 19-35. Only Pittsburgh finished with a worse record (17-36).

Indians Close Out 2009

2009-10-05T05:52:00.000-07:00

1. The Indians know they may have to sell themselves to some managerial candidates because there are times when more than one team wants to hire the same person. The Tribe's pitch will center on the fact they went through a seriously rebuilding stage in 2003-04. It produced a contender in 2005, along with the 2007 team that won 96 games.

2 The Indians will explain the strength of the team is in the young position players. It begins with the outfield of Shin-Soo Choo, Grady Sizemore and Michael Brantley. They also can use Matt LaPorta in left field, otherwise he starts at first base.

3. Brantley entered the weekend batting .302. The Indians want to see him draw more walks (8 in 106 at-bats). He also had only four extra-base hits, all doubles. They think he will quickly improve in both areas.

4. Notice the Indians gave Trevor Crowe a decent shot, but he batted only .230 (.603 OPS) in 178 at-bats. They think he can help as a backup outfielder because of his speed and ability to play all three outfield spots, but he has to give them more offense. I'm not nearly as sold on Crowe.

5. As the Indians plan their infield, it's Jhonny Peralta at third, Asdrubal Cabrera at short, Luis Valbuena at second with LaPorta at first. But Andy Marte and Jordan Brown also are in the first-base mix, with Marte very capable at third. LaPorta hit .289 (.840 OPS) with six homers and 16 RBI in 133 at-bats after being recalled from the minors.

6. Catching is wide open with Lou Marson and Wyatt Toregas the main candidates, at least until Carlos Santana is ready. Kelly Shoppach will probably be headed to another team. The Indians also would be interested in keeping utility man Jamey Carroll, but not at the $2.2 million salary he made this season. They do want a veteran backup infielder.

7. To make this lineup work, it seems the Indians need another veteran hitter to replace Victor Martinez -- unless Travis Hafner comes all the way back to his 2006 form.

8. The big questions are with pitching. Assuming Jake Westbrook is healthy (not a guarantee), he is the only starter older than 26. It seems Aaron Laffey, Justin Masterson and David Huff have locked up rotation spots -- although Laffey is the only one to show any semblance of consistency. But give Huff credit for winning 11 games with this team. As for Fausto Carmona, they certainly will give him every chance to start.

9. What the Indians need is someone such as Carlos Carrasco or Hector Rondon to make a great leap forward as a starter. Both have the raw talent, but who knows when it will click. Jeremy Sowers had a good two months in July and August, but ended the season with three poor starts and a final record of 6-11 with a 5.25 ERA. He may end up in long relief.

10. The Indians hope they have a decent bullpen in place with Kerry Wood closing. He had a 3.09 ERA and 8-of-10 in save opportunities after the All-Star break. Others who have been promising are Chris Perez and Tony Sipp. They think Raffy Perez is making some progress, but we'll see if that holds up next season. All of this begs for the Indians to find a manager and build a coaching staff that can develop young pitching -- and that points to Boston's John Farrell. While there are contract considerations giving the Red Sox control over Farrell next season, it seems a deal can be worked between the two teams -- especially since they are not in the same division.

Wedge will have made impact no matter what

2009-09-24T12:58:00.000-07:00

Wedge will have made impact no matter what
By Sheldon Ocker Beacon Journal sports writer
Published on Thursday, Sep 24, 2009

CLEVELAND: Managers are made, not born, but who makes them?

In just 10 days, Eric Wedge will complete his seventh season as manager of the Indians. Even though he has a contract for 2010, Wedge might not be back. More than likely, we will learn Wedge's fate one or two days after the schedule has been played out on Oct. 4.
Regardless of whether Wedge returns next year, he will have made an impact in Cleveland. Only four managers have guided the Tribe longer than Wedge, who is fifth in wins (557) and is one of only four Cleveland skippers to win a postseason series.

Two distinctive Wedge traits: He always is prepared, and he is consistent in the way he treats his players, whether things are going well on the field or not. Wedge's standards seem so ingrained in his personality, one would think he grew up with the goal of becoming a manager.
''I paid attention to being a catcher when I was a kid,'' Wedge said Wednesday. ''I did like Sparky Anderson, because I was a fan of the Big Red Machine. Those were pretty good teams in Cincinnati.''

Wedge grew up in Indiana and longed to be in the big leagues as a player. He made it with the Red Sox, but injuries prevented him from having a lengthy career. But he stayed in the game, managing in the Indians' farm system for five years before being elevated to the job in Cleveland.

Wedge can't point to a particular mentor along the way.
''I don't think there was one person,'' he said. ''I've taken things from a lot of managers. I've done and learned things from seeing other people do them and from talking to people.
''I will say that [Atlanta manager] Bobby Cox is a guy I have the utmost respect for. But I only know him from conversations when we've played each other.''
Wedge firmly believes that when a team is winning, the manager should do less. And he always has maintained — like most skippers — that the most effective leadership comes not from the manager but from the players.

''When a team is going good, that's when you have to try and stay out of the way,'' he said. ''And more times than not, you need to have guys in the clubhouse to take care of things. Like in '07, it was Trot Nixon or Casey Blake or C.C. [Sabathia]. Guys like that.''
Sheldon Ocker can be reached at socker@thebeaconjournal.com. Read the Indians blog at http://www.ohio.com/tribematters. Follow the Indians on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/ABJ_Indians.

CLEVELAND: Managers are made, not born, but who makes them?
In just 10 days, Eric Wedge will complete his seventh season as manager of the Indians. Even though he has a contract for 2010, Wedge might not be back. More than likely, we will learn Wedge's fate one or two days after the schedule has been played out on Oct. 4.
Regardless of whether Wedge returns next year, he will have made an impact in Cleveland. Only four managers have guided the Tribe longer than Wedge, who is fifth in wins (557) and is one of only four Cleveland skippers to win a postseason series.

Two distinctive Wedge traits: He always is prepared, and he is consistent in the way he treats his players, whether things are going well on the field or not. Wedge's standards seem so ingrained in his personality, one would think he grew up with the goal of becoming a manager.
''I paid attention to being a catcher when I was a kid,'' Wedge said Wednesday. ''I did like Sparky Anderson, because I was a fan of the Big Red Machine. Those were pretty good teams in Cincinnati.''

Wedge grew up in Indiana and longed to be in the big leagues as a player. He made it with the Red Sox, but injuries prevented him from having a lengthy career. But he stayed in the game, managing in the Indians' farm system for five years before being elevated to the job in Cleveland.

Wedge can't point to a particular mentor along the way.
''I don't think there was one person,'' he said. ''I've taken things from a lot of managers. I've done and learned things from seeing other people do them and from talking to people.
''I will say that [Atlanta manager] Bobby Cox is a guy I have the utmost respect for. But I only know him from conversations when we've played each other.''

Wedge firmly believes that when a team is winning, the manager should do less. And he always has maintained — like most skippers — that the most effective leadership comes not from the manager but from the players.

''When a team is going good, that's when you have to try and stay out of the way,'' he said. ''And more times than not, you need to have guys in the clubhouse to take care of things. Like in '07, it was Trot Nixon or Casey Blake or C.C. [Sabathia]. Guys like that.''

Cleveland Indians' Tito Francona - Red Sox manager Terry's dad - made a run at .400 in 1959

2009-08-21T22:33:00.001-07:00

Cleveland Indians' Tito Francona - Red Sox manager Terry's dad - made a run at .400 in 1959
by Mike Peticca, The Plain Dealer
Friday August 21, 2009, 7:08 PM

Cleveland Press Archives
Tito Francona gives some bunting tips to area youngsters while he was a star player for the Cleveland Indians.
About three weeks before the 1959 season began, the Cleveland Indians traded future Hall of Fame outfielder Larry Doby to the Detroit Tigers for a little-known outfielder-first baseman, Tito Francona.

Doby, 35, was nearing the end of a major league career that began on July 5, 1947. It doesn't matter that in his debut, he struck out as a pinch-hitter in the Indians' 6-5 loss to the White Sox in Chicago's storied Comiskey Park.

The significance of Doby's appearance, then and now, is that he became the first African-American to play in the American League. Jackie Robinson, the legendary Brooklyn Dodger, had broken major league baseball's color barrier on April 15 of that season.

Nearly eight weeks after being swapped for Francona, the White Sox purchased Doby from Detroit, and he completed his final season. Francona, meanwhile, was a spare part early in the season for a team that made a serious, though futile, run for the pennant; Cleveland's last genuine pennant bid until the strike-ending 1994 season, and then the 1995 American League championship campaign.

Associated Press
Cleveland Indians outfielder Larry Doby in Chicago's Comiskey Park on July 5, 1947, the day he became the first African-American to play in the American League.Through June 5, Francona - used primarily as a pinch-hitter - was 6 of 23 (.261). He was more busy at home. His wife had given birth to a son, Terry, on April 22. Terry Francona became a major leaguer, too, including a one-year stint (1988) with the Indians, and is the manager who has guided the Boston Red Sox to two World Series championships.

The Indians' volatile center fielder, Jimmy Piersall, struggled through the first two months of the 1959 season, prompting Tribe manager Joe Gordon to give the friendly yet competitive Francona, 25, a chance.

Tito comes through

Francona took full advantage. The left-handed hitter stroked 22 hits in his next 62 at bats, a .355 stretch that boosted his season average to .329.

Then, Francona really got hot. From June 25 through August 4, he batted .471, with 64 hits in 136 at bats, with 10 doubles, a triple, eight home runs and 37 runs batted in. His batting average was .416. He had peaked at .417 on August 2, but lost a point when he was 2-of-5 with a triple, homer and four RBI in the Indians' 8-2 win over the Washington Senators on August 4.

The smooth-swinging Francona couldn't maintain his remarkable pace, although he batted a solid .298 (53-of-178) the rest of the way to finish at .363. His last .400 batting average was going into the game of August 11. Nagging injuries didn't help Francona, and he was especially hampered during a 5-of-39 slump from September 9-18, dropping his average from .391 to .364.

That's the rule

Given the limited information resources, following baseball was quite different for fans when Francona flirted with 400. Tens of thousands of Indians fans, maybe, believed during the season's final days that Francona could at least win the batting title. Many were unaware that in the mid-1950's, baseball had changed its qualifying rule for official league leadership.

A 1961 Topps baseball card of Indians outfielder Tito Francona.Before, a player needed 400 official at bats to qualify. Baseball, though, changed the rule to a minimum of 3.1 plate appearances per games played by the individual's team. Thus, when a team played all of the 154 games it was scheduled for, 477 plate appearances were necessary for a player to qualify as the batting champion. For a batter, his walks, hit by pitches, sacrifice flies and sacrifice bunts do not count as official at bats, but they do count as plate appearances.

Francona finished with 145 hits in 399 at bats. Those unfamiliar with the rule change thought Francona, with 398 official at bats, needed just two more to qualify for the batting title going into Cleveland's final two games. Fans listening to Jimmy Dudley and Bob Neal announce the games on radio wondered what Gordon - who entered the Hall of Fame this summer as a former Indians' and Yankees' playing great - was doing, as he gave Francona just one more at bat in those last two games. What they didn't understand was that Francona needed an impossible 35 more plate appearances to qualify; he finished 34 short, with 443.

Ironically, the rule change from a required 400 official at bats to 477 plate appearances was prompted in part by the last batting championship for a Cleveland Indian. Second baseman Bobby Avila won the title in 1954, when he batted .341 for the American League champion Indians. The 400-at bat rule denied Ted Williams the title.

One of the sport's all-time greatest hitters and a six-time batting champion, Williams hit .345 in 1954. He totaled 526 plate appearances, but just 386 official at bats, so the title went to Avila. Fearful pitchers walked Williams 136 times. The rule, essentially, penalized Williams for his greatness. Williams is the last player to bat .400, hitting .406 in 1941.

Things change

Plain Dealer file photo
Star outfielder Rocky Colavito pictured at some time during his first stint with the Indians.The 1959 Indians finished 89-65, in second place, five games behind the White Sox. That last game of their season turned out to be a good-bye of sorts for two Cleveland legends. Outfielder Rocky Colavito was traded to the Tigers and pitcher Herb Score sent to the White Sox just prior to the 1960 campaign, as Indians general manager Frank "The Trader" Lane continued a trading spree that impacted the franchise for years.

Ironically, Colavito was dealt for Detroit outfielder Harvey Kuenn. Instead of Francona winning the 1959 batting title, it was Kuenn. His .353 average was 10 points south of Francona's, but he exceeded the 502-plate appearance requirement with 617.

Colavito returned to the Indians in a trade prior to the 1965 season. Score began a 34-year career as a radio/television announcer of Indians games in 1964.

Remembering

To recognize the 50-year anniversary of the event, The Plain Dealer's Bill Lubinger wrote earlier this summer about Colavito's four-homer game of June 10, 1959. Click here for his story and a video of him being interviewed about the story by The Plain Dealer's Mike McIntyre.

Score passed away last November 11. To read former Plain Dealer sports writer Bob Dolgan's story about Score's life and passing, with numerous photos and links to other Plain Dealer stories about Score, click here.

John Patsy "Tito" Francona, now 75, played five more years with the Indians. His next three seasons after 1959 were superb, especially 1960, when he led the league in doubles (36), and 1961, when he hit .301 and was named to the American League all-star team. The Indians sold Francona to the St. Louis Cardinals following the 1964 season, and he played for four other teams before closing his career

Cleveland Indians trades were about cutting payroll, but most made sense: Terry Pluto

2009-08-09T18:11:00.000-07:00

Cleveland Indians trades were about cutting payroll, but most made sense: Terry Pluto
by Terry Pluto, Plain Dealer Columnist
Saturday August 08, 2009, 8:55 PM

To the readers: This is a special edition of the Sunday notes. It's all about the Indians. I've been on vacation the past two weeks. Writing this from northern Michigan near Lake Superior, I decided to concentrate on getting you as much information on all the Tribe deals as possible. Next week, the Sunday notes will have the usual format dealing with all three Cleveland teams.
IT STARTED WITH MONEY . . .

1. Travis Hafner and Jake Westbrook make a combined $24 million this season, and their contracts will pay them $24 million next year. Yes, the Indians ranked 14th in payroll at the start of the season at $81 million, putting them near the major-league average. But $24 million of that last year went to Hafner and Westbrook, as it did this season and will again in 2010. No one is blaming those players. Both wanted to stay with the Indians, and both signed long-term deals -- as ownership committed to them. Then, both got hurt. Thanks to elbow surgery, Westbrook has made five big-league starts in two years. Dealing with shoulder problems and then surgery, Hafner has 394 at-bats over two seasons.
2. Team President Paul Dolan said Thursday that the team would lose $16 million in 2009. Insiders project a loss of another $10 million or more next season. They could have brought back Cliff Lee and Victor Martinez, but there would be no room in the budget to add any significant pieces or payroll. The Indians have not set a payroll figure for next season, but with their attendance ranking 27th in baseball, it's a safe bet it will be less than the $81 million this season -- even if ownership is willing to absorb some financial losses in 2010. The Indians correctly believed that selling tickets next season was going to be tough with or without Martinez and/or Lee on the roster.

3. The Indians looked at their 2008 team that was 81-81, followed by this season's team that went into Saturday night's game with a 47-62 record. They did not believe they could contend with the current roster. So it was not only time to cut payroll, but also to plan for the future. The team believes it could add almost zero to the team in terms of proven talent even with players such as Masa Kobayashi, Dave Dellucci, Rafael Betancourt and Mark DeRosa -- about $17 million -- coming off the payroll at the end of this season. The economics are that bleak for the Indians.

4. The Indians traded Betancourt to Colorado because he had a $5 million team option for next season. The Indians had no intention of picking it up, meaning Betancourt would have become a free agent. So they sent him to the Rockies this season, saving $1.3 million and adding a hard-throwing prospect named Connor Graham, who Rockies General Manager Dan O'Dowd said could possibly "be a back-end bullpen guy" in a few years. Graham is 0-0 with a 4.26 ERA in two appearances at Class AA Akron. The Rockies plan to let the 34-year-old Betancourt become a free agent after the season.

5. Ryan Garko is eligible to go to arbitration after the season. The Indians believed it would take a deal much like they gave Kelly Shoppach ($1.9 million) last season to prevent Garko from going to arbitration, where they believe he'd be worth $2 million. They were not going to pay him that, when they believe they have first base/DH replacements in Matt LaPorta, Andy Marte, Hafner and even someone such as hot-hitting Jordan Brown (.331 with 12 HR, 58 RBI, .902 OPS at Class AAA Columbus). That depth also was behind the Martinez deal with Boston. So they moved Garko to the Giants for Scott Barnes, a lefty who was 12-3 with a 2.85 ERA in Class A.

6. DeRosa was traded to St. Louis for relievers Chris Perez and Jess Todd. DeRosa is headed to free agency at the end of the season, and the Indians were not going to keep him. Perez is like Paul Shuey, Steve Karsay, Danys Baez and Eric Plunk, a guy with a 95-mph fastball who should be help in the bullpen. In the past, the Tribe effectively used this type of power arm. Todd has been tremendous in the minors, but doesn't have overwhelming stuff. The team received good value for DeRosa, and saved about $2.5 million. Finally, the Indians traded Carl Pavano to Minnesota for a player to be named.

7. No matter how the Indians explain it, money powered many of the deals. They traded Pavano not long before his bonuses for starts were about to kick in. They whacked at least $12 million off the payroll for this season in what was left on contracts to Lee, Martinez, DeRosa, Betancourt and Pavano -- and at least $25 million next year in contract obligations.
SOME OPINION
1. The Indians have about $7 million tied up in Kobayashi and Dellucci for this season, despite both being released. Dellucci is finishing up a three-year, $11 million contract, Kobayashi a two-year, $6 million deal. The Indians should really review the thought process that led to those signings, because $7 million should yield at least one productive major-league player. Kobayashi was 33 when signed; Dellucci was 32 and with a history of injuries.

2. Yes, the Indians traded young pitchers Jeff Stevens, Chris Archer and John Graub for DeRosa, then turned around and traded DeRosa for young pitchers. Stevens has been up and down with the Cubs. The odd part of the original deal was acquiring DeRosa, a second baseman with the Cubs, and moving him to third. This came after the Indians moved Jhonny Peralta to third base in winter ball. So they moved Peralta back to short, knowing DeRosa was a one-year rental. The obvious lineup to most fans was DeRosa at 2B, Asdrubal Cabrera at SS and Peralta at 3B from Day One of spring training. Somehow, the Indians missed the obvious and ended up making the moves during the season.

3. I liked the trades of Betancourt, Garko and especially DeRosa because all can be replaced next season, and maybe they can find some young pitching from the deals. As for Pavano, he's no loss because he was headed for free agency and not likely to re-sign with the Indians.

4. No way to know if the injuries to Westbrook and Hafner made the front office and ownership gun shy about firing out more large contracts to veteran free agents, but it had to be a factor.
5. Fans often say the Dolans should sell the team. Fine, who is your buyer? When Dick Jacobs put the Indians up for sale in 1999, there were two major bidders: the Ganley family and the Dolans. Ganley dropped out at about $220 million, but Goldman Sachs ran a blind auction and squeezed $323 million out of the Dolans. Yes, the Dolans overpaid. And just as the Dolans' television network, SportsTime Ohio, got going, the economy was crushed and it was hard to sell advertising on TV, radio or in newspapers. The cable TV station has been an asset, but not the tremendous cash cow that some projected.

6. Very few Midwestern teams are being sold. Dan Gilbert bid on the Milwaukee Brewers before purchasing the Cavaliers. His final bid was in the $200 million range. Why didn't he go higher, since he paid $375 million for the Cavaliers? Because the Cavs have LeBron James, and because they play in a league where there is a salary cap to help teams keep stars. Baseball's no-cap system makes franchises less attractive to savvy buyers such as Gilbert. The Indians would be a difficult team to sell in a depressed economy and in a city such as Cleveland, which is not a growing boomtown.

1. The Indians believe that within two years, when Martinez is a free agent after 2010, he will be more of a first baseman than a catcher. By then, he will be 32, and catching takes a physical toll. Lee will probably be able to sign a contract for at least $15 million annually after 2010 when he's a free agent. Martinez would be far more reasonable, but still cost at least $10 million a season.

2. It's possible Martinez would have controlled his own negotiations. He really did seem to love the Indians. But as we learned with other players in the past, what they say in public is one thing; what their agents say over the negotiating table is another. Remember that at the end of last season, CC Sabathia indicated he wanted to stay in the National League where he could bat, and he preferred the West Coast. So he signed with the New York Yankees of the American League, where there is a DH. The largest contract ever given a pitcher changed his mind.

3. Also part of the Martinez deal is that the Indians are strong behind the plate with Kelly Shoppach, Chris Gimenez, Wyatt Toregas, Carlos Santana and Lou Marson (added in the Lee deal with Philadelphia). They are desperate for pitching, so they sent Martinez to Boston for Justin Masterson, Bryan Price and Nick Hagadone. Masterson started Saturday night against the White Sox. Price and Hagadone are in Class A. Hagadone has a 95-mph fastball -- clocked as high as 98 mph -- even after coming off Tommy John surgery.

4. Word is, Boston would not include prized prospect Clay Buchholz for Martinez or Lee. The Yankees would have added Phil Hughes as part of a package for Lee. The man has been Cy Young caliber the past 1½ seasons, a strike-throwing, innings-eating, keep-the-score-close machine. But he was not considered overpowering and is underrated.

5. The Indians correctly perceived they had zerochance to keep Lee after 2010. They believed they could get more now for Lee than they would next season. They sent him to Philadelphia for pitchers Jason Knapp and Carlos Carrasco, catcher Marson and infielder Jason Donald. But the Phillies kept prized pitching prospects J.A. Happ and Kyle Drabek.

6. Knapp had a tired arm, but soon will pitch be at Class A Lake County. He has a 98-mph fastball at the age of 18. The Indians believe Donald, Marson and Carrasco all can help at some point in 2010, but none are having tremendous years in Class AAA.

7. The Indians can claim that they added 11 players in these trades, nine of them pitchers. All are under the age of 25. Five were among the top 100 prospects for 2009 as rated by Baseball America and ESPN. Odds are some of them will come through, but it is very hard to replace an All-Star catcher and a Cy Young award winner.

MORE OPINION

1. Why did the Indians need to add nine pitchers? Because their farm system has done a terrible job of producing pitchers. Since Sabathia was drafted in 1998, the Indians have had only threepitchers drafted, signed and developed by their farm system (not counting Latin players) who have made 50 big-league starts: Jeremy Sowers, Jeremy Guthrie and Sabathia. Scouting director Brad Grant has had only two drafts, so it's hard to judge him. But what happened in the previous years created a huge hole that the team needs to fill from the outside.
2. I like the Martinez deal because Masterson is a big-league-ready starter with a 93- to 96-mph fastball who has had success with Boston. He could be a major addition to the rotation. Martinez will be missed, but not nearly as much as Lee.

3. I can't buy the Lee deal. If the market was indeed soft for him now, then wait until next year. In the meantime, you actually have a No. 1 starter in the rotation to model strike-throwing and gutsy pitching to the kids on the staff. Kevin Millwood did this for Sabathia in 2005, which helped him take the next step up.

4. I knew nothing about Brandon Phillips, Lee and Grady Sizemore when they joined the Indians in the Bartolo Colon deal in 2002. The last thing I expected was Sizemore (batting .258 with 3 HRs in 256 at-bats at Class A) to turn into a power-hitting All-Star. Lee had very good stats in the minors, but no one dreamed he'd win the Cy Young. The Indians do have a good track record in dealing for other team's prospects, much better than drafting their own.

5. Maybe Carrasco (7-9, 5.25 ERA at Class AAA) or the 18-year-old Knapp (2-7, 4.01 ERA in Class A) become stars. But this deal lacked a Masterson, or even elite prospects such as Michael Brantley and LaPorta, who came in the Sabathia deal. I can't help but think the $9 million Lee was due next season was driving this deal, along with a fear that the economy and trade market would be even worse in 2010. They also point out that Johann Santana did not bring the Twins any immediate impact players in the trade with the Mets.

6. Bottom line: Given the dismal season, most of the deals didn't just save dollars, they made sense. But the biggest one -- the Lee trade -- came too soon.

Failed promises, lost season: Terry Pluto on the frustrated fans of the 2009 Cleveland Indians

2009-07-14T18:26:00.000-07:00

Failed promises, lost season: Terry Pluto on the frustrated fans of the 2009 Cleveland Indians
by Terry Pluto/Plain Dealer Columnist Tuesday July 14, 2009, 7:12 PM

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Maybe you are an Indians fan like me. Maybe you were really looking forward to this season, while having one eye on the rearview mirror from 2007.
That's when the Indians won 96 games, when they dumped New York in the first round of the playoffs and fell short by one game of going to the World Series. This team in 2009, it had to be more like that 2007 group than the Indians of 2008, right?

Those 2008 Indians had a 41-53 record at the All-Star break and finished a discouraging 81-81.

Yes, 2009 would be a new year, a year when the bullpen couldn't be as bad as 2008 -- when the relievers' 5.13 ERA was second worst in the American League. Hey, they signed a $10 million a year closer in Kerry Wood. They traded for some other relievers.

At least the bullpen should be fixed, right?

Wrong. Wrong! Wrong!

This season, everything went wrong. The bullpen is awful, the starting pitchers even more pathetic and the Tribe has the league's worst record (35-54) at the break. Having the highest ERA in the major leagues at 5.40 will do that. That 5.40 ERA is the highest in team history! The only other year the ERA was above 5.00 was 5.28 in 1987.

A rainy opening day -- and a loss -- should have told Indians fans Molly Marunowski (left) and Jessica Dell'Aquilla all that awaited the team in 2009."This is the most discouraging season I've ever experienced," e-mailed Berea's Terry Callaghan, adding that he was born in 1950. "I am so disgusted that I deliberately ignore them. When I go out to bars and restaurants where the Tribe is on TV, no one is paying attention. No cheers when they score, no groans when they lose."

Actually, Callaghan still does care, as he wrote several paragraphs about trades that should be made and people who should be fired.

What makes this a season of tears for Tribe fans is the team was supposed to win. On its Web site, eight of 20 ESPN baseball writers predicted the Indians to win the Central Division. So did I, insisting they'd win at least 91 games.

"There appears to be a big crack in the crystal ball or it's just full of smog," e-mailed Ron Zurowski. "I have 12 sets of tickets for the rest of the season that I intend to give away."

As for myself, I confess that I will go to more games this season. I still think Jacobs -- I mean, Progressive Field -- is a terrific place to watch a game. But I never thought the games would be ... well ... so awful!

Maybe you can understand why an unsigned email arrived with this heading: Tribe Ruins My Retirement! You can guess the content of the 60-year-old fan still pining away for former Tribe manager Charlie Manuel -- who moved to Philadelphia and won the 2008 World Series.

There was a game where Trevor Crowe ran from second base to third on a ground ball to short -- and was thrown out by 20 feet. There was a game with a runner on third base, one out. A grounder was hit to Jhonny Peralta at third. He calmly ignored the runner headed to the plate and tossed out the runner at first base, seemingly unaware of the number of outs, just like Crowe.

Whatever happened to that 2007 team?

Only two pitchers remain on the active roster from that playoff staff -- Rafael Betancourt and Aaron Laffey. In case you forgot (I did), Cliff Lee spent part of 2007 in the minors and was not on the playoff roster.

Cy Young winner CC Sabathia is with the Yankees. Paul Byrd is retired. Jake Westbrook has been out since last season with elbow surgery and 19-game winner Fausto Carmona is such mess, he's in the minors. So are Raffy Perez and Jensen Lewis, once reliable relievers.

This season, the Indians have been through 26 pitchers, closing in on the American League record of 32. A pitching staff that for the previous four seasons was in the top two of fewest walks in the league, now has walked the most.

"My wife won't watch the eighth inning, but I do," e-mailed Jerry Crawford from Las Vegas. He is a retired drama professor who signs his emails "The Real Chief Wahoo" and weeps over the Tribe each night with the MLB package on pay TV.

Ah, yes, the eighth inning, where the Indians have been outscored, 69-34.

Then Crawford adds to the torment by watching Seattle play, especially former Indians Franklin Gutierrez and Russell Branyan.

"They have been marvelous," wrote Crawford. "That figures."

"A season like this reminds me of a David Letterman Top Ten from a few years ago," e-mailed Herb Bell. "The subject was signs that your team is bad. The No. 1 answer was, 'Your team rhymes with Smidians.'"

Most nights, the Indians hit a bit -- but don't pitch.

But when 2008 Cy Young Award winner Cliff Lee takes the mound, they forget to hit. His record is a deceiving 4-9 with a solid 3.47 ERA. He has lost five games despite allowing two or fewer earned runs over at least seven innings -- hey, that leads the league.

Poor Lee, the Indians have scored a grand total of 14 runs in his nine losses ... yet they've scored 22 runs in one game at New York, 15 against Oakland and 12 (in a loss) to Milwaukee. None of that happened with him on the mound.

"When I travel, I always take books about the Indians with me," e-mailed Barb Schopp from Mansfield. "This time, I'm taking a murder mystery."

Better than Barb wanting to kill some of the players and coaches. She makes trips to spring training most years to check out the Tribe.

"We're missing something this summer," wrote Schopp. "It's not just a good baseball team, it's all the fun that goes with a good team. That's what makes me blue."

Mea culpa! Lamentations of a columnist's faulty forecast for the Tribe: Terry Pluto

2009-07-14T18:22:00.000-07:00

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Talk about clueless ... not only does that apply to the Cleveland Indians, but to me as I look back and weep about some of the things I wrote this spring:

1. Start with the starters. Start with me knowing the Indians would not have a good starting rotation. Start with me simply ignoring that, and writing that they'd win 91 games and the Central Division, anyway. And start with writing that Carl Pavano could be another Jason Johnson, a real bust in the rotation -- and he has been the team's second-best starter behind Cliff Lee and leads the team with eight victories.

2. Not only did I insist the Indians would contend for a title, I wrote Detroit "had no chance" to win the Central Division. Well, at the All-Star break, the Tigers are in first place, the Indians in last. And I picked Arizona to win the NL West. The Diamondbacks stink, too. I also may have told someone that John McCain would win at least 40 states.

3. MVP for this season? Grady Sizemore, no doubt. Only Sizemore is batting .235 with 13 HR and 47 RBI and needs elbow surgery. And I predicted Brandon Webb would win the NL Cy Young Award. He got hurt, too.

4. I wrote the bullpen could be one of the strongest parts of the team, and not just because they signed closer Kerry Wood for $10 million annually. I was sure Jensen Lewis and Raffy Perez would be strong as set-up men. Well, maybe they are ... at Class AAA Columbus. They allowed 12 homers in 65 combined innings with the Tribe, their combined ERA a shocking 8.04.

5. That strong Tribe bullpen? Its 5.13 ERA is the worst in AL. But it's better than the starters, whose 5.56 ERA is also the pits of the league. And I sort of hinted the pitching would at least be OK. With a track record like that, anybody want some of my stock tips? I was real high on Fanny Mae and Freddie Mac about a year ago!

6. I was sure Ben Francisco would be an upgrade over Dave Dellucci and Jason Michaels in left field, that Francisco would hit around .280 with 20 HR. Well, he's at .242 with 6 HR, 25 RBI. Francisco batted only .236 after the 2008 All-Star break, so there were reasons for concern that I ignored.

7. I wrote something about Anthony Reyes giving the starting rotation the same grit as Kevin Millwood did back in 2005 when he had the best ERA in the American League. Well, Reyes had a bad elbow before he joined the Tribe, and it just got worse as he had major surgery -- after racking up a 6.57 ERA.

8. Twice in spring training, I wrote about how Fausto Carmona was looking good and throwing strikes -- He was, really! -- then came the regular season. I don't even want to talk about this stuff any more.

9. I really liked John Meloan, a pitcher the Indians acquired in the Casey Blake deal from the Dodgers last summer. I thought he could help in the bullpen. I mentioned this in print more than few times. Probably about the same time I could have told you that you really want to buy stock in AIG. Anyway, Meloan had a 5.69 ERA at Class AAA Columbus, and the Indians have traded him to Tampa Bay.

10. I'm going to stop here. I'm not going to mention how I pushed for Trevor Crowe (he batted .165) to be the fourth outfielder, or how I thought Jake Westbrook (he's still recovering) would be back from arm surgery and in the starting rotation by the middle of June. I'll just say that from now on, you can just call me Nostradamus.

All-Star Blog: Albert Belle makes a mid-summer phone call to talk Cleveland Indians, steroids

2009-07-14T17:01:00.002-07:00

All-Star Blog: Albert Belle makes a mid-summer phone call to talk Cleveland Indians, steroids
by Paul Hoynes/Plain Dealer Reporter Tuesday July 14, 2009, 4:29 PM
UPDATED: 5:41 p.m.

Plain Dealer file
Albert Belle says baseball should reveal the names of all the players on the steroid list and get past the issue. ST. LOUIS -- It just isn't a baseball season unless Albert Belle calls.

Belle, the worst-tempered player and most intimidating hitter I've ever covered, called Monday while I was walking into Busch Stadium to get ready for the home run derby. Belle was frustrated with the Indians' first half and wanted to talk about former teammate Manny Ramirez testing positive for performance-enhancing drugs.

"If they're not going to take anybody's stats away, then what difference does a positive test make?" said Belle. "And what about those 101 players who tested positive and haven't been named yet? I say release all their names so we can get done beating this dead horse."

Regarding Ramirez, Belle said, "Manny is going to hit no matter what. He's a talented kid."

Belle played for the Indians from 1989 through 1996. He's No.2 on their all-time list with 242 homers. Jim Thome, a former teammate, is No.1 with 334.

In his 12-year big-league career, Belle hit 381 homers. Along the way, he had more temper tantrums than Billy Martin and Lou Piniella combined.

Some of those tantrums were directed at me. Realizing that Belle was calling from Scottsdale, Ariz., and I was in St. Louis, I asked him if he'd ever used steroids. I already knew he'd used a corked bat.

"I never did," said Belle. "I didn't need to. All you have to do is check the trainers' weight charts. Every year I'd come to camp weighing 225 to 230 and end the season at about 215 to 220."

I ventured to say that his temper tantrums could have been interpreted as 'roid rage.

Said Belle, "No, I was just an angry black man."

Regarding the Indians, Belle said, "I hope they don't blame Eric Wedge for all this. You've got to have players to win."

Belle was told Wedge's job was in danger. When asked if he would want to manage the Indians, "Unless they got me a lot of new players, I don't need a headache like that."

Five times Belle made the All-Star team during his carer. His last All-Star game appearance was with the White Sox. The game was played at Jacobs Field and Belle refused to pose for the team picture in the outfield because of his running feud with Indians fans.

"The first time you play in an All-Star game, it's great," said Belle. "After that, you can do without it."

Belle, 42, was forced to retire because of an injury to his right hip. It probably cost him a spot in the Hall of Fame. Now he may need some work done on his left hip as well.

"A couple of my friends called me and said you haven't ripped anybody on the Indians all season," said Belle. "I told them, 'He must be getting old.'"

We all do, Albert. We all do.

Cleveland Indians' 20- and 30-something fans have no reason to fret, compared to older fans

2009-07-14T17:01:00.001-07:00

Cleveland Indians' 20- and 30-something fans have no reason to fret, compared to older fans
by Mike Peticca, The Plain Dealer Tuesday July 14, 2009, 2:52 PM

Associated Press
Yes, Jose Mesa couldn't save Game 7 of the 1997 World Series, but the big right-hander had some highlight moments, too. Here, he pitches against the Atlanta Braves in Game 3 of the 1995 World Series, when he earned credit for the Tribe's 7-6, 11-inning win.
Any Cleveland Indians fan can find recent disappointment in, for instance, the Tribe's failure to turn its 3-1 American League Championship Series lead over the Boston Red Sox into a 2007 World Series berth.

Or, in the Indians' uninspiring 2008 season followed by the team's current malaise.

But, if you're just 20 years old, you may have some recall of 1995, when Cleveland played in the World Series for the first time in 41 years, and more memories of the Indians' improbable run to the 1997 Fall Classic. So what if Atlanta's Tom Glavine got the corner, and more, on almost every close pitch, and that Jose Mesa insisted on throwing that slider to Florida's Charles Johnson? At least, things got to that point.

You were in your mid- to late teens during the compelling - if ultimately frustrating - finishes of 2005 and 2007.

And, if you're 30, you could fully appreciate one of the best eras in Cleveland baseball from 1995 to 2001.

You've got it all over the older Indians fans, those who watched the Tribe finish at least 11 games out of first place in every season from 1960 through 1993, excluding the 1981 season, when a two-month players' strike broke the pennant races into two halves.

During the 34-season stretch, the Indians lost 387 games more than they won, and they finished a combined 768 1/2 games out of first place. They had just six winning seasons, the best at 87-75 in 1965, when they finished fifth in the 10-team American League, 15 games behind the Minnesota Twins.

Cleveland's second-best record during the span was 86-75 in 1968, 16 1/2 games behind the Detroit Tigers. The Indians finished third, their best standing in the 34 seasons. It was the last season before the American and National Leagues divided into divisions of six, and later seven teams. Yet, Cleveland was able to finish third just the one time, and fourth six times from 1960 through 1993.

Following are a few instances when Indians fans had something to cheer for, only to have their hopes stilled.

Yawn

Indians fans never saw their team play big games deep into the season. Probably the biggest September games the Indians played were in a twi-night doubleheader against the Baltimore Orioles at Cleveland's Municipal Stadium on Sept. 6, 1974. Despite having just a 67-67 record, the 1974 Indians were just 4 1/2 games out of first place in the mediocre AL East when the night began.

Here, thanks to baseball-reference.com, is what happened in the opener, a 2-0 Tribe loss, and the nightcap of the twinbill, a 1-0 Indians' defeat before 27,341 fans.

The Tribe finished the campaign 77-85, in fourth place, 14 games behind the Orioles.

Look out, Yankees

The New York Yankees of Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Whitey Ford and Roger Maris were still a powerhouse, but the 1962 Indians swept a four-game series from them in mid-June. A Sunday, June 17 doubleheader capped the series and drew 70,918 to Municipal Stadium to watch the Indians down New York, 6-1, in the opener and 6-3 in the second game.

The Indians spent 19 days in first place from June 16 through July 13, but they lost 34 of 47 games in one stretch and finished sixth, 80-82, 16 games behind the Yankees.

Looked good

The 1965 Indians were fun to watch, in part because of the return of favorite Rocky Colavito. The Indians were 46-28, tied for first place with the Minnesota Twins on July 4.

Tony Tomsic, Plain Dealer file photo
Slugging outfielder Rocky Colavito led the American League in RBI in 1965.Here's the Indians' July 4 game, a 4-2 win over the Orioles with a crowd of 32,756 at the Stadium.

Alas, the Tribe faded to their 87-75, fifth-place finish, 15 games behind the Twins.

Total fold

The 1966 Indians opened with 10 straight wins and were in first place with a 4 1/2 game lead and 27-10 record on May 28. They were still 45-29, although 6 1/2 games shy of the lead, on July 2, but went on a 28-48 skid through Sept. 16. Cleveland finished 81-81, 17 games behind Baltimore, in fifth place.

A highlight was Sonny Siebert's no-hitter, a 2-0 win over the Washington Senators in Cleveland on June 10.

Never close

In 1968, when the Indians went 86-75 to place third, 16 1/2 games behind Detroit, they were within 2 1/2 games of first on June 6, but never got on a real roll. Pitcher Luis Tiant did, though, including his 19-strikeout, 1-0 10-inning win over Minnesota before 21,135 at the Stadium on July 3.

Over-rated

When Sports Illustrated put the Indians' Joe Carter and Cory Snyder on the cover of their 1987 season preview issue, they ignored that the pitching-poor Indians of 1986 were at least 7 1/2 games - and as many as 16 1/2 - out of first after August 7. They rallied to finish 84-78, in fifth place behind the Boston Red Sox in the AL East. The 1987 fiasco ended with the Tribe 61-101.

The 1986 Indians peaked at 51-41, five games out of the division lead, with a 7-2 win over the Chicago White Sox in front of 20,524 Cleveland fans on July 23.

The Indians promptly lost 26 of their next 40 games.

Promising Indians Go From First to Last

2009-06-29T15:35:00.000-07:00

Promising Indians go from first to worst
One win from the 2007 World Series, Cleveland is now last in the AL; what happened?

By Jerry CrasnickESPN.comArchive
"We got beat by a great team. We've got a lot of young guys on this team. This wasn't the end of something. It was the beginning of something."-- Cleveland first baseman Ryan Garko after the Indians, one win from the World Series, blew a 3-games-to-1 lead against Boston in the 2007 American League Championship Series.

The beginning of what, exactly?

Andrew Weber/US PresswireGrady Sizemore, just activated from the DL, has an OPS 100 points below his career average.

Garko, a thoughtful and soft-spoken Stanford graduate, never could have envisioned the Indians' going 37-53 to begin the 2008 season, rendering the second half irrelevant, or CC Sabathia wearing a Milwaukee Brewers uniform by the All-Star break.

He didn't foresee Travis Hafner hurting his shoulder, Jhonny Peralta's power declining so markedly, or pitchers Fausto Carmona and Rafael Perez, cornerstones of the 96-win team in 2007, going south so quickly. For the sake of accuracy, Perez actually traveled 142 miles southwest to Triple-A Columbus after a demotion in May, and Carmona was last seen undergoing a ground-floor remake in Arizona.

Garko couldn't have predicted the great bullpen disaster of 2008 or a similar meltdown in 2009 after general manager Mark Shapiro made relief pitching a priority during the hot stove season. With the Kerry Wood and Masa Kobayashi signings, injuries to Joe Smith and Rafael Betancourt, and Jensen Lewis' regression, Indians fans have learned to watch the seventh, eighth and ninth innings through splayed fingers.

So here's where things stand: The Indians, a fashionable AL Central pick in March, are 12 games behind first-place Detroit and last in the division. Shapiro can't make it through a day without answering another question about manager Eric Wedge's job security, and he began the process of selling off short-term assets for long-term value when he traded infielder Mark DeRosa to St. Louis for reliever Chris Perez on Saturday.

If this comes as any consolation to beleaguered Tribe fans, Shapiro is convinced the picture isn't as grim as April, May and June make it appear.

BROKEN RECORD

The Indians have fallen well short of expectations since the 2007 ALCS. Here are the win percentages and run differentials among AL teams since the start of the 2008 season:

"I truly believe in my heart that we're going to be back in the playoffs again in the next three years," Shapiro said. "As much as I feel [the fans'] pain, I can't get caught up in the emotion of the history here. I don't believe we're going to be a bad team. I don't believe this is the beginning of another 40 years of losing. I believe this is a bad season. That's what it is."

The pain is more acute because the Indians have such a knack for snatching despair from the jaws of exhilaration. After putting Boston on the mat in '07, the Indians sent their staff ace to the mound for the clincher. But Sabathia, too keyed up by the stakes, threw a clunker against Josh Beckett. The series returned to Fenway Park, where the Red Sox outscored the Indians 23-4 in games 6 and 7 to advance to the World Series.

"Any time you have the opportunity to advance in the postseason and get that close, there's some level of disappointment when you don't reach your ultimate goal of winning the World Series," said Chris Antonetti, Cleveland assistant GM. "We valued that at the time. We understood that for teams in our market size, with our resources, it's exceptionally challenging to repeat and sustain that level of success.'"

For all their problems this season, the Indians have no plans to rip it up and start anew right now. So unless somebody overwhelms Shapiro with a package for Cliff Lee or Victor Martinez, the Indians will try to fill their holes, put this season's disappointment behind them and compete for a playoff berth in 2010.

There's nothing like a 31-46 record to elicit a little introspection. Here are some of the long- and short-term realities Shapiro and Antonetti must confront over the next few months and the offseason.

The pitching problemHafner's $57 million contract looks exorbitant in hindsight, but he still has a .959 OPS in 31 games this season. Even with Hafner and Grady Sizemore's missing considerable time because of injuries, the Indians rank third in the AL in runs.

CLEVELAND ROCKED

The Indians' pitching numbers have gone down since 2007. In parentheses are where they ranked in MLB:

The problem is pitching. Cleveland has one starter, Lee, with an ERA of less than 5.00. The Indians' staff has issued 310 walks, most in the majors, and has given up 88 home runs, seventh most in the game.

How bad is the bullpen? The Indians have been outscored 66-32 in the eighth inning, and the relievers have allowed 58 of 140 inherited runners to score.

And there simply is no depth for when things go wrong. The Toronto Blue Jays have survived an incredible run of pitching injuries with help from a Scott Richmond here and a Ricky Romero and Brian Tallet there, but the Indians can't find anyone to carry the burden behind Lee.
Which leads to our second issue …

A break in the pipelineThe Brandon Phillips trade to Cincinnati notwithstanding, it's hard to argue with Shapiro's trade history. He acquired Hafner from Texas for Ryan Drese and Einar Diaz, stole Asdrubal Cabrera and Shin-Soo Choo from Seattle for Eduardo Perez and Ben Broussard, and acquired elite catching prospect Carlos Santana from the Dodgers for Casey Blake last July. And what more can be said about the deal that brought Sizemore, Lee and Phillips from Montreal for Bartolo Colon? It was a classic heist.

The Indians have been successful in Latin America, and while you can criticize some of Shapiro's recent free-agent signings, Jason Michaels, David Dellucci and even Wood don't have the type of contracts that are going to strangle the team for years to come.

So what's the problem? In the spectrum of player acquisition options, Cleveland's lack of success early in the draft stands front and center.

Shapiro has been the Indians' general manager since 2001.

Since 2000, Cleveland has had 19 first-round or supplemental picks. The most successful, pitcher Jeremy Guthrie, has a 23-24 record in the majors, and all of that has come with Baltimore.

Beyond Guthrie, the landscape is essentially bare. First-rounders Corey Smith, Alan Horne, Daniel Denham and Brad Snyder did nothing. Matt Whitney, Michael Aubrey and Adam Miller got hurt. And it's too soon to tell what Trevor Crowe, Beau Mills, David Huff and Lonnie Chisenhall will contribute over the long haul.

Cleveland management contends the early misses are offset in part by some later "finds" that bring the team's overall performance closer to average. Garko, Lewis, Ben Francisco, Aaron Laffey and the departed Ryan Church and Luke Scott are among the players who fit the description. Still, there's not a Ryan Howard, Justin Morneau, Josh Johnson or Jonathan Papelbon in the bunch.

It doesn't help that the Indians rarely pick among the top handful of teams in the first round, where the sure things are found. Cleveland has picked in the top 10 only once this decade. In 2004, the Indians had Jered Weaver and Stephen Drew atop their board but passed on both players for financial reasons and selected Jeremy Sowers, a Vanderbilt product who is 33-14 with a 2.47 ERA in the minors and 14-24/5.18 in the majors.

Some draft watchers think the Indians are too stat-focused and select too many corner infielders, outfielders and DH types rather than athletes and middle-of-the-diamond players. But sometimes it's more about the money than the draft philosophy.

In 2005, the Indians drafted Washington high school pitcher Tim Lincecum in the 42nd round, but ownership wasn't willing to buck the commissioner's office and spend the $1 million or so required to sign him. Think Lincecum wouldn't look good in that rotation right now?
Managing expectationsThe Shapiro-Antonetti tandem gets more love from national media outlets than, say, White Sox GM Kenny Williams, who is perceived as arrogant and overly blunt. Is it because the Cleveland guys are media favorites? Perhaps. But their front office peers also regard Shapiro and Antonetti as extremely bright, people-oriented, innovative thinkers.
"If you gave Mark an organization with the resources of the Red Sox or the Yankees and the ability to paper over the occasional mistake we all make, he would absolutely run a club that would be a force year in and year out," an AL executive said. "It becomes far more difficult in a market like Cleveland, where your mistakes can linger or derail you for years to come. The margin of error is far thinner."

CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE

Here's how the Indians stacked up, payroll- and performance-wise, against their AL Central competition from 2002-08 (Payroll source: USA Today salary database):

The Indians' Opening Day payroll of $81.5 million this year was almost dead even with the payroll in 2002, Shapiro's first season as general manager. Surprisingly, the cost-conscious Minnesota Twins spent more money than Cleveland on player salaries each year from 2003 through 2007.

Indians fans might blanch when Shapiro says he expects the team back in the playoffs in the "next three years," but that's the way life works for teams in Cleveland's economic stratum. Beyond the big boys in New York, Boston and Los Angeles, most clubs live in a world in which sporadic postseason appearances are the reality.

During Shapiro's tenure as GM, the Indians have a .503 winning percentage, two 90-win seasons and one postseason appearance. The Twins and Florida Marlins have made better use of their resources, as a rule. But Cleveland's performance looks pretty good compared to those of Texas, Seattle, Detroit and several other teams that have outspent the Indians by a wide margin and have less to show for it.

The Pythagorean problemThe Indians have been outscored by only 27 runs this season, but they're 15 games below .500. That makes them underperformers, based on the Bill James Pythagorean theorem of win expectations.

That's nothing new for a franchise that's posted fewer wins than its run differential would suggest several times in recent years.

The Pythagorean disconnect generally is attributed to three things: the manager, the bullpen or luck. Since no team can be so unlucky that often, the conversation inevitably leads back to Wedge and the relievers.

The Indians need to take a hard look at their underachieving bullpens. Is it a question of evaluation or usage? Did the Indians misjudge Lewis based on his 66 innings last season? Did Wedge burn out Perez with overuse in 2007 and 2008? Bullpen performances are the hardest things in baseball to predict, but when they're bad enough to wreck entire seasons, it's a problem.

The burden of historyWhen a city's fan base is "traumatized," as Shapiro calls it, disappointments are cumulative. Every Kerry Wood blown save is somehow linked to Earnest Byner's goal-line fumble, "The Drive" or Charles Nagy's failure against Edgar Renteria in 1997. The sense of desperation and fatalism can become an emotional anchor. Just ask Boston Red Sox players what the atmosphere was like pre-2004.

In Cleveland, the measuring stick for the Indians remains the great John Hart-Mike Hargrove-Charlie Manuel teams of the late '90s. The Indians averaged 93 wins a year from 1995 through 2001, made the playoffs six times, and featured the likes of Jim Thome, Manny Ramirez and Albert Belle.

During that span, the Tribe made history with 455 straight sellouts at Jacobs Field. But those days are long gone. The Indians finished 12th in the majors in attendance in 2002. They haven't ranked higher than 21st since, and this season, they're 27th with 22,557 a game. The reality is, Cleveland is an economically depressed town, and it's a grind for the Indians to sell tickets, win or lose.

"Everything we do now is compared to what we accomplished then," Shapiro said. "If you're around our team, that's what you feel. It's not 2007. It's '94 to '01.
"That was a very special and unique juncture in Indians history that should be cherished, but it's not a fair barometer. We had payrolls in the top five, and we had a unique set of circumstances. A new stadium. Not winning for 40 years. No football team, a poor basketball team and an economy on the uptick. All those things created a very special level of revenues and a very special juncture in Indians baseball."

This year is special only for the trade speculation it's engendered, the anguish it's created and the questions it's produced. It's not even July, and the Cleveland front office and fan base already are looking ahead to 2010. The real-life version of "Major League'' will have to wait.
Jerry Crasnick covers baseball for ESPN.com. His book "License To Deal" was published by Rodale.

2009-05-12T19:36:00.000-07:00

"What makes players, coaches and managers successful is taking it one day at a time. Right now, I feel the answers are here with Eric, this coaching staff and these players. I don't think those are the kind of things I should be concentrating on right now."

Wedge took responsibility for the Tribe's poor start Monday. Said Shapiro, "Responsibility is shared. Accountability rests with me."

13 Games do not make a season

2009-04-21T07:47:00.000-07:00

CLEVELAND -- Thirteen games do not a major-league season make. They do not even cover half of a month.

A 13-game sample is enough, though, to get at least a feel for a club and its tendencies. Here is a capsule look at what we think we know about the 4-9 Tribe, which opens a nine-game home stand tonight against Kansas City:
The Indians are not afraid of the big, bad Yankees in the Boogie Down. They split a four-game series in the Bronx that ended Sunday. An opponent usually will gladly accept a four-game road split, but the Indians departed with a sour taste because they had a lead in each game and finished with 11 homers and 40 runs. They posted nine- and 14-run innings.

Too bad the Tribe does not return to New York this season, when the temperature has had time to rise and balls fly that much farther in the pricey new bandbox.

Despite the .308 winning percentage and last-place status, the Indians are very much alive in the Central. Entering Monday, the Royals, White Sox and Tigers were tied for first at 7-5, meaning the Tribe was just 3.5 games back.

Kansas City being anywhere near the lead is no concern for the rest of the division, because it won't last. The White Sox, the team to watch, nonetheless are selectively implementing youngsters. The Tigers are good enough to hang around. The Twins (7-7) figure to have another gritty club under manager Ron Gardenhire. Which is to say none of the four will run away and hide, giving the Indians time to figure it out.

The rotation will not be evoking memories of Early Wynn and the boys. No surprise here: Tribe starters have been shaky even as Cliff Lee, Fausto Carmona and Carl Pavano showed signs of life in New York. The rotation does not feature anyone who sits in the mid-90s, meaning less margin for error. One of these days, one will pitch into the seventh inning. Lee and Pavano own the only quality starts (six innings, three or fewer earned).

Lee will need to work (extra) hard for his money. Not that Lee pitched on cruise control en route to 22-3 last season. A starter winning one game in the majors, let alone 22, is not easy. It's just that otherworldly command of the fastball made it appear easy. Fastball location has not been as precise through three starts this season, leading to a 1-2 record and 6.75 ERA. He will be forced to rely more on curves and change-ups and on keeping batters guessing.

At its current rate of usage, the bullpen -- with the notable exception of one man -- will be gassed by July. It stands to reason that starters who cannot get deep into games wreck havoc on those who follow. The bullpen might not be as good as most thought it would be, anyway.

That one man, closer Kerry Wood, needs to find things to do to keep himself occupied late in meaningful games. Wood has made four appearances, one in a save situation. He is on pace for 13 save situations. Owner Larry Dolan is not paying Wood and his rocket arm $10 million annually to collect dust.

Rafael Perez needs to reset his body clock or begin his season in May. Perez has stunk out the joint for yet another April, his slider allergic to early-season cold. He entered with a 4.73 ERA in March-April -- worst of any month in his career. He is at 16.71 in seven appearances this season.

Wood and Mark DeRosa, who played for the Cubs last season, need not worry about adjusting to a new team. Wood intimidates simply by putting on the uniform. DeRosa is an old-school gamer who dared suggest, correctly, that the great Mariano Rivera might actually throw a pitch that should be called a ball when the batter does not swing at it. DeRosa was called out on strikes to end a 6-5 loss Friday, then went 4-for-7 with six RBI in a 22-4 victory Saturday.
Shin-Soo Choo has sun issues. Bat? Check. Arm? Check. Sunglasses? Need new lenses. Choo has two strikes against him already, having lost one in right and one in left, both resulting in inning-changing extra-base hits. No question the sun can be bright and unforgiving, but Gold Glovers might not lose two in a season.

If Victor Martinez stays healthy, he can challenge for a batting title. Martinez is hitting .358 (19-for-53). A handful of his outs have been loud. Martinez won multiple batting crowns in the minors and entered this season as a .298 hitter in 722 major-league games. Matchup lefties are negated because he's a switch-hitter. His primary position, catcher, puts him at a distinct disadvantage, but if Minnesota's Joe Mauer can winning batting crowns, why not Vic?

Grady Sizemore no longer can be expected to hit .300. He hit .289 in 2005 -- his first full season in the majors -- and .290 in 2006. But he has gone .277 and .268 since and is at .259 with 17 strikeouts this season. His swing is not easily adjusted to slap the ball the other way for average-saving singles.
Just because Sizemore won't hit .300 doesn't mean he's not a dynamic leadoff man. He entered this season with a .370 on-base percentage and .491 slugging percentage; those numbers are at .385 and .574, respectively, through 13 games.
Travis Hafner is showing glimpses of a return to Pronk, or at least PronkLite. The slimmer Hafner has four homers, four doubles and six walks. Yes, he has14 strikeouts. But the key to his being feared again, the surgically-repaired right shoulder, seems to be holding up well under game stress.

Derek Shelton's batters know how to work pitchers, good result or bad result. They are hitting .280 and have scored 83 runs, though a failure to come through with runners in scoring position has cost them games. Along the way, they have struck out a staggering 115 times but managed 67 walks.
Manny Ramirez will not be coming back to Cleveland -- not today, next week, next month or next year. Neither will Jim Thome.

Are the 2009 Cleveland Indians well-armed? Inside the Opening Day pitching staff

2009-04-05T08:10:00.000-07:00

Are the 2009 Cleveland Indians well-armed? Inside the Opening Day pitching staff

by Paul Hoynes/Plain Dealer Reporter

Saturday April 04, 2009, 8:30 PM

HOUSTON -- Here's a breakdown of the Indians' 12-man pitching staff. Stats include batting average against (BAA) and what right-handed hitters (RH) and left-handed hitters (LH) hit against each pitcher last year.

STARTING ROTATION

LHP Cliff Lee

Key 2008 stats: 22-3, 2.54 ERA, 223.1 innings, .253 BAA, .245 RH, .272 LH.

Skinny: Lee, last year's AL Cy Young winner, throws a two- and four-seam fastball, cut fastball, slider, curve and change-up. He tops out at 93 mph, but usually throws between 89 and 91.

Comment: Lee had a tough spring, but came through it healthy. It will be interesting to see how responds to being a marked man because of the Cy Young Award. He doesn't have to win 20 again, 14 to 18 victories wouldn't be bad.

RHP Fausto Carmona

Key 2008 stats: 8-7, 5.44 ERA, 120.2 innings, .271 BAA, .230 RH, .303 LH.

Skinny: Carmona is a power pitcher with a sinking fastball, slider and change-up. He'll top out at 96 mph, but usually pitches at 92 to 93.

Comment: Last year, Carmona walked more than he struck out (70 to 58) as he battled a left hip injury. He pitched well this spring training, easing off on the velocity to keep his sinker on the plate at the urging of pitching coach Carl Willis and catcher Victor Martinez. If Carmona wins 19 games as he did in 2007, fine. It's probably more realistic if he wins 14 to 16.

RHP Carl Pavano

Key 2008 stats: 4-2, 5.77 ERA, 34.1 innings, .306 BAA, RH .283, LH .324.

Skinny: Pavano spent spring training throwing between 89 mph and 91 mph. He throws a fastball, slider and change. He's 6-5 and uses his height well to throw his fastball to both sides of the plate at the bottom of the strike zone.
Comment: The Indians took a chance on Pavano, who has been basically out of commission for four years because of injuries. He made it through camp healthy and got better the longer camp went. The Indians believe he can give them a chance to win every fifth start.

LHP Scott Lewis

Key 2008 stats: 4-0, 2.63 ERA, 24 innings, .222 BAA, .254 RH, .130 LH.

Skinny: Lewis throws a fastball, curve, slider and change. He throws 88-89 mph and locates the ball well. He's effective with his change-up, which is about 12 mph slower than his fastball.

Comment: Lewis has to hit his spots and keep the ball down or he'll give up a lot of homers. He's calm and cool on the mound and that serves him well. Let's hope he's able to grip the ball better in the home opener on Friday at Progressive Field than he did in Arizona during spring training.

RHP Anthony Reyes

Key 2008 stats: 4-2, 2.76 ERA, 49 innings, .242 BAA, .267 RH, .240 LH.
Skinny: Reyes throws a fastball, curve and change. He throws between 87-91 mph. It's a heavy fastball that he locates well. The fastball is offset by a good change-up.

Comment: The Indians weren't sure if Reyes would make it through camp healthy after being shut down in September with a sore right elbow. Not only did he stay healthy, he pitched well. Now he has to keep doing it.

Safety net: The Indians have lefties Aaron Laffey, Jeremy Sowers and David Huff in the rotation at Class AAA Columbus if there's trouble with the rotation. Right-handers Kirk Saarloos and Jack Cassel are also in the pipeline. Right-hander Hector Rondon might get a call at Class AA Akron.

BULLPEN

RHP Kerry Wood

Key 2008 stats: 5-4, 3.26, 34 saves, 66.1 innings, .219 BAA, .227 RH, .209 LH
.
Skinny: Wood throws a fastball, cut fastball, slider and curve. He hit 97 mph in spring training, but usually throws between 91-95 mph.

Comment: Wood gives the Indians their first hard-throwing closer since Jose Mesa. He's in his second year as a stopper and last season converted 34 saves in 40 chances for the Cubs. If he stays healthy, the Indians should be one of the best pens in the American League.

LHP Rafael Perez

Key 2008 stats: 4-4, 3.54 ERA, 2 saves, 76.1 innings, .234 BAA, .243 RH, .222 LH.

Skinny: Perez is a fastball-slider pitcher. He throws a change, but sparingly. Perez throws between 90-92 mph. His pitches have late action in the strike zone, dropping out of reach before hitters can recognize the spin on the ball.
Comment: Perez jumped from 44 appearances in 2007 to 73 last year. He handled the extra workload well and gives manager Eric Wedge an effective reliever against left and right-handed hitters in the late innings.

RHP Rafael Betancourt

Key 2008 stats: 3-4, 5.07 ERA, 4 saves, 71 innings, .276 BAA, .295 RH, .252 LH.
Skinny: Betancourt, like Perez, is a set-up man. He throws a fastball, curve and change-up. He tops out around 94 mph, but usually throws between 91-92 mph.
Comment: Betancourt had a bad first half last season, but rebounded in the second half. His spring-training numbers weren't great, but he looked strong. He needs to keep rebounding to give Wedge the Raffie Left and Raffie Right option that worked so well in 2007.

RHP Jensen Lewis

Key 2008 stats: 0-4, 3.82, 13 saves, 66 innings, .266 BAA, .264 RH, .267 LH.

Skinny: Lewis throws a fastball, slider and change. His velocity reaches 90-91 mph, which is better than last year. Lewis concentrated on his slider in spring training.

Comment: Lewis proved last season that he can close, so that gives Wedge and alternative if Wood gets hurt or needs a day off. Lewis, like Betancourt, suffered last season because of a heavy workload in 2007, but pitched well in spring training.

RHP Joe Smith

Key 2008 stats: 6-3, 3.55 ERA, 63.1 innings, .220 BAA, .192 RH, .320 LH.
Skinny: Smith, a sidearmer, throws a fastball, slider and change. He's touched 92 mph this spring and usually sits at 90 mph, which is above average for a sidearmer. His slider works well against right-handers.

Comment: Smith impressed the Indians with his arm strength. Most sidearmers don't throw as hard as he does. It's one of the reasons the Indians think he will eventually be able to get lefties out. He didn't get a chance to work on that much in spring training because of a viral infection.

RHP Masa Kobayashi

Key 2008 stats: 4-5, 4.53 ERA, 6 saves, 55.2 innings, .286 BAA, .292 RH, .280 LH.

Skinny: Kobayashi consistently hit 92 mph in spring training, but got pounded because he couldn't get his pitches down. He throws a fastball, split and slider.

Comment: He'll open the season pitching in middle and long relief. He's in the last year of a $6 million contract.

LHP Zach Jackson

Key 2008 stats: 2-3, 5.55 ERA, 58.1 innings, .294 BAA, .271 RH, .348 LH.

Skinny: Jackson throws a fastball, cut fastball, slider and split change-up. He throws between 87-90 mph, but is vulnerable to left-handers.

Comment: Jackson made the club because he spent much of spring training competing for the last spot in the rotation. He was already stretched out, which meant if one of the starters got knocked out early, he could step in and control the damage.

Safety net: If the Indians need help in the bullpen, right-hander Vinnie Chulk and left-hander Tony Sipp will get the first call at Columbus.

2009-03-23T08:54:00.000-07:00

Hello Hi: Memories abound as Indians visit their old spring base in Tucson, Hi Corbett Field
by Paul Hoynes/Plain Dealer Reporter
Sunday March 22, 2009, 5:31 PM

Springtrainingonline.com photoNow the spring home of the Colorado Rockies, Tucson's Hi Corbett Field hosted the Indians for 45 years, from 1947 to 1992.TUCSON, Ariz. -- The Indians returned to Tucson on Sunday to play their first game at Hi Corbett Field since 1992. They trained in Tucson from 1947 through 1992. It seems like a million years ago, but the memories remain.

• Cy Buynak was the Indians equipment manager then. One day one of his relatives, who worked in the clubhouse, jumped a fence at the ballpark, fell and sprained his wrist.
When the Indians came in the next day to get their pre-game soup, outfielder Mel Hall yelled, "Hey, Cy, what kind of soup do we have today -- Cream of Fence?"

• Pitcher Bud Anderson was set to make the club one year. While walking onto the back fields, through a security gate, he waved to a fan, cut his right hand on the razor wire on top of the fence and didn't make the big-league roster.

• I remember the late Bobby Bonds, then Indians hitting coach, working with Otis Nixon for hours in the batting cage.

"When we got done, Otis had hit so many balls, his eyes were crossed," said Bonds.
All the work eventually paid off for Nixon, but not with the Indians, who made Nixon use a bat with a thick barrel. They wanted him to chop down on the ball and use his speed to reach base.
"Butcher boy," manager Pat Corrales would yell whenever Nixon came to the plate.
In other words, use the bat like a butcher's cleaver. Chop the ball in half. I have one of Nixon's broken bats in my basement. He gave it to one of my sons after a game one spring and its barrel is fat and thick.

It was at Tucson's Hi Corbett Field that the Indians got their first look at Kenny Lofton's ability to hit slow infield grounders and turn them into surprising singles.

In the spring of 1992, manager Mike Hargrove was watching Kenny Lofton take batting practice. Lofton, acquired during the off-season from Houston, had not looked impressive as he hit one infield grounder after another.

"They tell me, he's fast enough to turn those into singles," said Hargrove.

Lofton did just that to become the best leadoff hitter in Indians history.

• I remember my boys, Eddie and Jimmy, now fully grown, racing to the back fields to catch home run balls. They went back to Cleveland with a suitcase full of baseballs.

• There was a guy named Tucson Lenny Rubin, who walked around the ballpark like he owned it. In the movie Major League, when Rick Vaughn, the Wild Thing, throws a pitch that breaks the backstop in spring training at Hi Corbett Field, Lenny is the guy holding the radar gun.
If the Indians needed anything, they went to Lenny. I once saw him cash a check for Dan O'Brien. The banks were closed and O'Brien, the vice president of baseball operations, needed the cash. Lenny pulled out a thick roll of $100 bills and peeled them off like they were singles.
Lenny walked around with a huge cigar sticking out of his mouth. He never lit it and it was joined together with tape.

• When I first started covering the Indians in 1983, Gabe Paul was the president and Phil Seghi was the general manager. Seghi was the best-dressed man I've ever seen. No matter how hot it was in Tucson, he always wore a suit, dress shirt and tie as he sat behind home plate and watched the game. He smoked a pipe and it was always the same color as his tie.

• At the end of spring training in 1987, outfielder Dave Clark had the team made. So much so that he put his suitcases on the truck to Cleveland. One the last day of camp, the Indians signed Steve Carlton. The future Hall of Famer was washed up, but it cost Clark a spot on the club.
I remember them taking Clark's suitcases off the equipment truck.
Chuck Crow/The Plain DealerCy Buynak was one of the few faces that never seemed to change each spring at Hi Corbett, as the Tribe's longtime equipment and clubhouse guru greeted each season's collection of Indians.

• One of the best parts of spring training was watching Bob Feller, then in his 70s, practicing his pickoff throw to second base in right field. Feller would go into his windup, whirl and throw the ball against the outfield wall.

• In the spring of 1989, the Indians traded shortstop Jay Bell to Pittsburgh for shortstop Felix Fermin. In announcing the trade GM Hank Peters, a sharp baseball man, said Bell would never play shortstop in the big leagues.

Peters didn't make many mistakes, but that was one.

• One night in the spring 1989, Mel Hall approached me at the team hotel. He asked to borrow my car so he could pick someone up at the airport. I should have figured something was up because what player would be caught dead driving a reporter's car?

It turned out Hall was going to the airport to pick up his girlfriend. He got her a room at the team hotel. The problem was that Hall's wife was staying at the same hotel.

A couple of days later, the two women met and got into a fight at the hotel swimming pool. Peters' wife just so happened to witness the poolside brawl.

Shortly after that, Hall was traded to the Yankees for Joel Skinner and Turner Ward. Skinner has been an Indian ever since, coaching third base for the Tribe today.

Asked how Hi Corbett had changed, Skinner said, "I think the dugouts are a little longer."

• Managers have to work extra hard to get thrown out of a spring training game. Corrales did just that one game when an Indian was tagged out on a close play at the plate. Corrales went out and recreated his player's slide. The umpire did not appreciate it and Corrales was gone.

• For the record, the last game the Indians played at Hi Corbett before today was March 31, 1992 against the Cubs.

Cleveland Spring 2009

2009-03-11T05:32:00.000-07:00

CLEVELAND -- 1. I hear Anthony Reyes has been the most impressive pitcher in camp. Not in terms of stuff, but just savvy and looking ready to go. Not surprised -- those six starts, that 1.83 ERA and 12 walks in 34 1/3 innings with the Tribe late last season said a lot. Now, keep that elbow healthy.

2. I hear Jeremy Sowers is throwing harder than ever with the Tribe -- being clocked at 92 mph. But his control is iffy, there is not enough "separation" or space between his fastball and changeup. I think he's headed to Class AAA.

3. I hear part of the reason Fausto Carmona looks like his old self is his chemistry with Victor Martinez. The Indians want control from Carmona, and he has walked only two in eight spring innings. Even before his hip injury, he was leading the AL in walks after his first 10 starts of 2008. He walked 70 in 120 innings.

4. I think the idea of Martinez catching Carmona is smart. In 2007, Carmona had a 2.74 ERA throwing to Martinez, and he allowed five runs in nine innings with Kelly Shoppach. In 2008, it was a 4.57 ERA in 63 innings with Martinez, a 7.39 ERA in 39 innings with Shoppach. The key for Carmona is control, and he did average fewer than two walks per nine innings in most minor league seasons. In 2007 when he was 19-8, he walked only 61 in 215 innings.

5. I hear Manager Eric Wedge saying Dave Dellucci "is on the club for now." I think that is written in ink. I think there are real alternatives in both Josh Barfield and Trevor Crowe as backup outfielders, with Barfield also able to play the infield. As one Tribe operative told me, "Crowe can play all three outfield positions. He can pinch run. He can throw. He is a switch hitter." That sounds like an ideal fourth outfielder, especially compared to the 35-year-old Dellucci who can't run, can't throw and has stayed healthy enough to hit.

6. I hear David Huff was "dominating" in an intrasquad game Monday, and he soon will be throwing in preseason games. I think he can win the fifth starter spot unless Aaron Laffey (7 ER, 12 hits, 5 innings) turns around quick.

7. I hear good things about Wes Hodges (6-of-16) this spring, and I had a brain belch when I forgot to list him last Sunday as the position prospects who have impressed GM Mark Shapiro, the others being Michael Brantley, Carlos Santana, Matt LaPorta and Crowe. LaPorta and Brantley look close to big-league ready today.

8. I hear Asdrubal Cabrera is 7-10 pounds lighter than a year ago and looks terrific in the field at second or shortstop. I also hear Jhonny Peralta is mashing the ball, and Ryan Garko (10-15 pounds lighter) is doing an OK job in left field.

9. I hear good things about Carl Pavano, but I don't think I trust him to stay healthy and/or effective. I'm hoping they get one reliable starter from Reyes/Pavano.

10. I hear the Indians are trying to get Masa Kobayashi (3 IP, 5H, 5 W, 4 ER) to use his splitter more. I hear the Indians say he's a veteran and they are not worried about him. I think if they aren't worried -- they are concerned. And they should be, because he's having the same problems that he did last year after the All-Star break (10.32 ERA).

Every Rookie has a shot to make it

2009-02-27T18:36:00.000-08:00

Every rookie has a shot to make it -- just ask Super Joe Charboneau: Terry Pluto
by Terry Pluto/Plain Dealer Columnist
Thursday February 26, 2009, 8:42 PM

Want to feel old?

Joe Charboneau is 53. He has a 29-year-old son and a 27-year-old daughter. He and Cindy have been married for 33 years. It was 29 years ago that Charboneau went to spring training with the Tribe in Arizona and ended up being Rookie of the Year.

Want to feel young?

It is spring training, the Indians are back in Arizona and sometimes, a young player emerges like Super Joe Charboneau -- shooting straight up from Class AA to the majors.

Maybe it will be Matt LaPorta. Or Michael Brantley. Or David Huff, who spent only a few months in Class AAA.

"If any of those guys asked me, I'd tell them that this is your chance because you never know when you'll get another one," said Charboneau, who lives in North Ridgeville, where he works for the city's recreation department. He also gives private batting lessons and does card shows and fantasy camps.

"Don't worry when people say you can't make it," said Charboneau. "You never know what will happen. Guys get hurt, there are trades. I was not supposed to make the Indians in 1980."

Charboneau talked about the spring when he, his wife and young daughter drove in a beat-up Datsun from their home in Northern California to Tucson, Ariz. He was the defending Class AA Southern League batting champion, having hit .352. He was 24 years old, his $5,000 in bonus money long gone.

Mark Duncan/Associated PressSuper phenom Joe Charboneau of the Indians talks to the press in Cleveland on Dec. 3, 1980, after his selection as AL Rookie of the Year. The Indians had an outfield of Jorge Orta, Rick Manning and Mike Hargrove. That's correct, Hargrove was a left fielder. Andre Thornton at first base, Cliff Johnson the designated hitter. On the bench were supposed to be Dell Alston, Cito Gaston and Andres Mora. Charboneau seemed ticketed for the Class AAA Charleston (W.Va.) Charlies.

"I walked up to the dressing room at Hi Corbett Field and stood at the door," said Charboneau. "I was afraid to go in. I stood out there for a couple of minutes, just staring at it. My heart was jumping. I finally went through the door, and I was scared. [Trainer] Jimmy Warfield walked right over to me and made me feel welcome."

Charboneau said he stayed with his young family at a motel called the Spanish Trail, the spring home for all Tribe minor-leaguers.

"It was an old place with a train on the roof, don't ask me why," said

Charboneau. "We were jammed into one room with one bed. It was a place that made you really want to get to the big leagues."

Charboneau said he and his wife looked at the roster nearly every night, trying to figure out how he could make the Opening Day roster. Cliff Johnson showed up with a broken finger, supposedly unloading a barrel of oats from a truck. Suddenly, he was out as DH. But there still seemed to be two or three players ahead of him.

"I had never made any money and never had any money," he said. "Part of me always thought I could play in the big leagues, but I remember when I first saw my name and my number 34 on that uniform in the clubhouse. I couldn't believe it was really for me, that I really could make it."

The Indians had two intrasquad games, and Charboneau opened with seven consecutive hits, including a 400-foot homer. By the first exhibition game, he was officially being hyped as a phenom by the star-starved Cleveland media, picking up the Super Joe nickname.

Charboneau said he was making $34 a day in meal money. Two weeks into the spring, former Tribe minor-league director Bob Quinn found an apartment for the young family so they could cook some of their own meals.

Charboneau continue to slash line drives all spring, often in morning "B" games where statistics were not kept. He also had a strange incident when the team was playing in Mexico City. A fan asked him for his autograph, and as Charboneau reached for the pen, the man stabbed Charboneau in the side with a Bic.

It was just a flesh wound, and the man was fined $2.27 and released.
Things like that always happened to Charboneau, who recovered and then secured a spot on the roster when Andre Thornton suffered a major knee injury at the end of training camp.

In 1980, he batted .289 (.846 OPS) with 23 homers and 87 RBI while being voted American League Rookie of the Year. The next spring, he slid into second base and suffered a back injury. It was the first of many. Charboneau said he's had several surgeries, removing parts or all of "five of my disks, we have back problems in our family."

He played only 70 more games in the majors after 1980.
Charboneau made $21,000 as a rookie. The next season, he signed a $75,000 contract, but a strike wiped out part of the season -- and he pocketed about $40,000. That's the most he ever made in baseball.

His son, Tyson, has a college degree and manages the Tattoo and Body Anthology in North Olmsted. His daughter, Dannon, is a registered nurse. Cindy has battled multiple sclerosis for years and is often in a wheelchair. Charboneau has been a local celebrity; he coached in the independent Frontier League for 10 years and also worked in North Ridgeville for the recreation department.
"I love Cleveland," he said. "The city and the fans have been great to me and my family. I'm always thankful for the one good, healthy year. And I'd tell those guys in camp with the Indians to make the most of it right now -- you never know how long it will last."

2009-01-19T08:04:00.000-08:00

Indians primed for turnaround

Monday, January 19, 2009 | Feedback | Print Entry

The Cleveland Indians opened the 2008 season with a payroll of just under $80 million, so while they aren't the Florida Marlins, they aren't in anywhere near the class of the Yankees or the Tigers or the Mets or the Red Sox. They're stuck right in the middle, and have to have middle-class sensibilities. They don't necessarily need or want the priciest baubles in the room, but they do have a little money to spend.
And this winter, they seemingly have spent well, targeting their needs, making a couple of trades that have been deemed by rivals as nice deals. "As much as I don't believe in feeling good about winter accomplishments," said Indians general manager Mark Shapiro, "I do feel good about it."

They didn't get the most expensive closer on the market, Francisco Rodriguez, but they got a good closer, on a relatively short-term deal. Kerry Wood struck out 84 and walked just 18 in 66.1 innings and converted 34 of 40 save chances last season, good enough to make the NL All-Star team. Yes, there is risk with Wood -- but it's a short-term risk, of two years, and potentially a high reward. He could be the best of the second-tier closers in the league.

If he has some hiccups, or he gets hurt, the Indians have a lot of depth again in their bullpen, a lot of options for Eric Wedge -- Rafael Perez, who whiffed 86 in 76.1 innings last year; Rafael Betancourt, from whom the Indians need a bounce-back season; Jensen Lewis, who filled in nicely as closer in the second half last season, going 13-for-13 in save chances after the All-Star break; Joe Smith, acquired as part of the three-team deal that ended with J.J. Putz going to the Mets.

The wild card of the bullpen bunch is Adam Miller, who has had trouble staying injury-free but has the talent to develop into one of the league's best set-up men if he can stay healthy. If you think this is far-fetched, well, remember that three years ago today, you probably had never heard of Joel Zumaya, and two years ago today, you'd probably never heard of Joba Chamberlain, and a year ago, you didn't know the name of Jose Arredondo. That's just how bullpens can be sometimes: You throw talent at a wall, and sometimes, you get great results, and the Indians are hopeful that could be the case with Adam Miller.

The Indians' lineup has more depth than it did a year ago, more length. So far, Travis Hafner is feeling good in his rehabilitation from shoulder surgery, informing the front office that the feels much better, like the difference between day and night. He has also hired a personal chef and worked on his nutrition. "Kind of a dual approach," said Shapiro. "He's lost some weight."

It has been awhile since Hafner has been a dominant offensive force: In 2006, he hit 42 homers, drew 100 walks and drove in 117 runs in 129 games. Since then, he's played 209 games and totaled 29 homers, 129 walks and 124 RBIs. It's possible, of course, that he might not rebound.

But the Indians are much more equipped to handle a falloff from slugger than they were a year ago. Their lineup, in the mind of a rival GM, starts with "one of the three best players in the game," in Grady Sizemore, and Victor Martinez is fully healthy again, as he prepares for a major shift in his time behind home plate. It's possible that Kelly Shoppach, who hit 21 homers with a solid .348 OBP last season in 352 at-bats, will catch as many as 70 games, with Martinez playing a whole lot of games at first base. The Indians finished seventh among 30 teams in runs scored last season, despite all that they did not have -- a productive and healthy Hafner, a healthy Martinez, and Mark DeRosa, who was acquired in a recent trade with the Cubs to play third base. And they might also get a boost from the primary piece they received in the CC Sabathia trade with Milwaukee, outfielder Matt LaPorta.

There is concern at the back end of the rotation, behind Cliff Lee and Fausto Carmona; they need Aaron Laffey or Jeremy Sowers to take a step forward, and could greatly benefit from a solid recovery from Carl Pavano.

But there is a margin for error in the AL Central that there is not in the AL East, because the Tigers really haven't made many changes, and neither have the White Sox or the Royals or the Twins. The Indians went into 2008 with great expectations that were quickly taken down by a poor start, but they have reason to feel good about their chances, again.

Am I going to miss Greg Maddux - ESPN

2008-12-06T19:09:00.000-08:00

Am I going to miss Greg Maddux? Are you kidding? I couldn't stand the guy.

First of all, he wasn't greedy enough. He signed for only $75,000 after the Chicago Cubs selected him with the 31st pick of the 1984 amateur draft. No messy holdouts. No nothing. And get this: He actually reported to Pikeville of the Appalachian League that season. For $175 a week. Loser.
He wasn't brash enough. The guy made his major league starting debut near the end of the 1986 season. The Cubs stunk, but the 20-year-old Maddux threw a complete-game victory. Hadn't been done by a Cub that young since 1966. He also got two hits and ended a seven-game Cubs losing streak. Instead of popping off about his big day, Maddux told reporters, "I'm kind of awestruck now."

He wasn't intimidating enough. When the dinky Maddux first reported from Triple-A Iowa, the Cubs didn't know whether he was a player or there for Father-Son Day. "He's a good competitor and he's fun to watch," minor league coach Jim Colborn told the Chicago Tribune, "especially knowing he's just finished his paper route a couple of years ago."

He wasn't quotable enough. You can list the number of great Maddux on-the-record quotes on the back of a Sweet'N Low packet. He was polite. He was pleasant. But mostly he shrugged his shoulders a lot.

He wasn't controversial enough. Would it have killed him to get caught carrying, say, a semi-automatic weapon, just once? Some sort of drug charge would have been nice. And is it asking too much to maybe oversee a money-laundering ring? But, no, not Maddux.

He wasn't narcissistic enough. Even when he was winning four Cy Young Awards in a row or walking into the clubhouse the day after his 300th career victory, you never saw Maddux with a posse, entourage or security detail. Wait! There were those times when he brought his two kids to the ballpark.

He wasn't ill-prepared enough. In 1996, just before Maddux and the Atlanta Braves faced the New York Yankees in the World Series, pitching coach Leo Mazzone met with his starters and relievers and read them the detailed scouting reports. Maddux raised his hand after Mazzone read the report on Yankees slugger Bernie Williams.

"That report is not correct," Maddux said. "I've been watching film of Williams for two weeks, and that report is not correct."

"Did everybody hear that?" Mazzone said.
The Braves pitchers nodded.

"Well, then the hell with this report," Mazzone said. "We go with what Mad Dog says."
Williams hit .167 in the Series.

He wasn't serious enough. Jimmy Farrell, who was the longtime umpires room attendant at Wrigley Field, told me about the time he asked a young Maddux to wiggle his ear if he reached base on a hit. The Cubs went on the road, so Farrell and his wife, Eleanor, watched the game at home that night. Sure enough, Maddux got a hit.
"He's not gonna do it, Jimmy," Eleanor said.

"You watch," Farrell said.

Maddux stood at first base. And then wiggled his ear.

"We just about fell off the couch laughing," Farrell told me.

He wasn't aloof enough. You'd think a guy with more wins than any living player (355) would keep to himself. But when I saw him this past March at spring training with the San Diego Padres, Maddux was doing his usual thing: working the clubhouse, cracking wise with vets and rookies, recruiting players for one of his golf pools. Same sort of thing happened when I saw him near the end of the season. He was a Los Angeles Dodger by then, but he was sitting in the dugout trading jokes with teammate Derek Lowe.

He wasn't one-dimensional enough. After a while you really got tired of watching him earn Gold Gloves (18 of them -- nobody has more), lay down perfect sacrifice bunts, or even steal bases. The nerve.

He didn't listen well enough. Colborn said back in 1986: "He's not a strikeout pitcher, and he probably won't ever win 25 or 30 games in the big leagues. But he should have a good big-league career." Maddux, who just had to make Colborn look bad, finished his career ranked 10th all-time in strikeouts.

He wasn't buff enough. Didn't he get the memo about steroids? Sammy Sosa had nose hairs with more muscle tone than Maddux. Maddux had a bit of a paunch. I'm not sure he could bench press a fungo bat.

He wasn't flashy enough. After Maddux won No. 300, reporters asked how he'd celebrate. "I don't know," he said. "I'll do something." What, take the family to Pizza Hut?
He wasn't into legacies enough. He once said he actually valued pitching 200-plus innings per season more than the wins. And if you asked him about the Hall of Fame, you usually wouldn't get much on the subject. But his former teammate Glendon Rusch once told me, "In my opinion, he's a first-ballot, 100-percent-of-the-votes Hall of Famer."
He wasn't unprofessional enough. Maddux probably could have squeezed another season and paycheck out of that 42-year-old right arm of his. Others would have taken the money. But not Mr. Integrity.

Nope. Won't miss him at all.
Until spring training 2009.
Gene Wojciechowski is a senior national columnist for ESPN.com. You can contact him at gene.wojciechowski@espn3.com.

No Bitterness in Herb Score

2008-11-15T19:56:00.000-08:00

Terry Pluto: No bitterness in Herb Score
by Terry Pluto Plain Dealer Columnist

Thursday November 13, 2008, 11:05 PM

It was a hot spring- training day in Tucson, Ariz., about 25 years ago when Herb Score and I were talking about a pitcher who had said he planned to quit near the prime of his career.
"I think you should play until they tear the uniform off your back and tell you that you can't play anymore," said the Indians' broadcaster. "That's what I did."

It happened in 1963, when he was at Class AAA Indianapolis. He was still trying to come back from an eye injury -- that resulted from a line drive off the bat of Gil McDougald on May 7, 1957 -- and later, arm problems.

Score told me, "There's nothing better than playing."

He quickly said he was grateful to be the Indians' radio voice. He said in some ways, the injuries that cut his playing career short at age 30 became a blessing because it opened a door to broadcasting.

"I've done this longer than I ever could have played," he said of what became his 34 years on air.
When Score died Tuesday at the age of 75, I thought of his dignity and patience. I thought of the times he signed autograph after autograph. I thought of how he was asked thousands of times, "How's the eye?"

"Fine," Score would say, often with a smile.

Or sometimes, a fan would say, "It's too bad about the eye, you could have been one of the great ones."

The former Indians pitcher would politely thank the fan.

It seemed as if he had separated himself from the injuries, that he didn't realize what was lost. In his first two Tribe seasons, he had a 36-19 record and led the American League in strikeouts.
Yes, Score knew how good he was at age 23, and how he was destined for greatness. But he rarely talked about his own career, except to make fun of his problems as a hitter. If pushed, he'd insist that it was elbow problems -- not the eye injury -- that ended his career. Being a man meant dealing with the cards life dealt.

It meant doing your job and not whining. It meant dressing well, as he always did with sharp suits, and every hair on his head seemed in place and never needed to be cut. It meant being a class act, as men of his generation would say.

On the air, Score seldom criticized players or managers. But he was a close friend of several Tribe managers and front-office types. They felt free to tell him their frustrations and dreams, and Score never broke a confidence, never engaged in trashy gossip.

General managers such as Gabe Paul and Phil Seghi asked his opinions on players, and Score had strong ones. He didn't express them on the air, but he did in private to those with the Indians who wanted to know.

I had a taste of that side of Score just once, when mentioning a Tribe pitcher whom I thought was having a good season.

Score stopped me and said, "Unless your ERA is under 3.00, you really are not doing your job."
He then backed off a bit, saying that was how the great ones from his era performed, and the game had changed.

At the time of this conversation, I was in my middle 20s, a baseball writer for The Plain Dealer. Score supplied the soundtrack for the Indian summers of my youth. My father spoke reverently about how Score would have been a Hall of Fame pitcher.

I was always somewhat awed how Score treated me as a peer, how he always remembered my wife and asked about Roberta by name. I remember how Score could have could have been bitter, but instead, he made all of us who spent time with him better for it

Herb Score Dies at 75

2008-11-12T05:33:00.000-08:00

Herb Score's life in baseball was a combination of tragedy and success.

Score died Tuesday morning at age 75 at his home in Rocky River after a lengthy illness, the Indians confirmed.

He was a brilliant Tribe pitcher whose baseball career virtually was ended at age 23 when he was hit in the right eye by a line drive off the bat of Gil McDougald of the New York Yankees on May7, 1957.

Then he became a Cleveland sportscasting institution, calling Indians games on radio and television for 34 years, longer than anybody else in the city's baseball history.
He gained a loyal following, although he did not have the greatest voice or elocution. He was like a favorite uncle who talked baseball.

"For me, broadcasting the game is like sitting in the stands talking to the fellow sitting next to me," he said.

Still, to those who had seen his talent on the mound, it was comparable to Napoleon becoming a war correspondent.

"He was a great pitcher," said his close friend, former Indians right fielder Rocky Colavito from his home in Bernville, Pa. "He had a chance at becoming as good a lefty as there ever was. He had that kind of stuff. He had hard knocks, but he never complained. You had to respect him for that. I loved him like a brother."

"[Hall of Fame hitter] Ted Williams said he had the best fastball of any left-hander he ever faced," the late Ken Coleman, a onetime Indians sportscaster, once said from his home outside Boston.

When Score stepped on the Cleveland Municipal Stadium pitching mound on the night that changed his life, he appeared to be headed for baseball greatness.

ROOKIE OF THE YEAR

The lefty was the American League Rookie of the Year in 1955, when he won 16 and lost 10 for the Indians. Score received 18 of the 24 votes from the voters. "It's the biggest thrill of my life," he said. "I'm deeply honored."

He had struck out 245 batters, a rookie record that stood for 29 years, until Dwight Gooden broke it with the New York Mets in an era of wild swingers. He was the first first-year pitcher to reach 200 since Grover Cleveland Alexander did it 44 years earlier.

The next year he was even better, going 20-9 and leading the league in strikeouts for the second straight year. Some observers said his fastball was the equal of Hall of Famer Bob Feller, the Clevelander who was considered the hardest thrower of his time. He also had a fine curve.
"They didn't have a radar gun then to measure speed," Colavito said. "But I think he threw 100 miles an hour."

Colavito compared Score with Sandy Koufax, considered by many to be the best lefty in modern baseball history. "Koufax didn't win 20 until he was 27," Colavito said. "Herb did it at 23."
Score projected an image of immense force on the mound. He seemed to throw a baseball that was as heavy as a rock.

He was showered with compliments from everywhere and everyone.

"If nothing happens to this kid, he's going to be one of the best who ever pitched," said former Indians hero Tris Speaker, player/manager on Cleveland's 1920 world champions.
"You took one look at him and you had one thought: Hall of Fame," McDougald said.

RED SOX BID
In spring training of 1957, the Boston Red Sox offered to buy Score for $1 million, an astronomical sum at a time when entire ball clubs were being sold for $4 million.

"We wouldn't sell him for $2 million," said then-Indians General Manager Hank Greenberg.
Al Lopez, who managed the Indians in Score's first two seasons, had a frightening prediction for opponents. "Wait until he puts on some weight," he said. "He'll get even better." The 6-2 youngster was still only about 185 pounds.

It all came apart on that fateful night in 1957, when Score pitched against the Yankees. He had beaten the world champions three times in a row dating back to the previous season, making them look like helpless beginners, even with Hall of Famers Mickey Mantle and Yogi Berra in the lineup.

McDougald, the second batter of the game, reached for a low pitch and lined it back at Score. The ball crashed into his face, breaking his nose, cutting his right eyelid and causing swelling and hemorrhaging of the cheekbone and eyebrow.

Third baseman Al Smith picked up the carom and threw McDougald out at first.
Score was knocked to the ground, bleeding profusely. He was immediately surrounded by teammates and Yankees players.

"I didn't see the ball until it was a foot or two from my face," said Score, who threw with an uninhibited motion in which his body turned his back to the batter. Sometimes he turned so hard he expected that he might eventually get hit on the back.

"I could feel the blood," said the pitcher, who never lost consciousness. "People were all around me. Rocky must have set a record getting in from right field." Colavito was Score's roommate and best friend. They had come up through the minor leagues together.

Teammate Vic Wertz, playing first base, rushed over, then retreated when he saw the blood.
"Everybody was shoving towels at me," Score said. "I even got one in the mouth. I almost choked on it."

Score remained surprisingly calm. Minutes after the accident, he joked to good friend Mike "Big Bear" Garcia, an Indians pitcher, "Well, Bear, you can't say I didn't keep my eye on the ball."
Score was sitting on a trainers table in the Indians clubhouse when Colavito peeked in to see how he was doing. "What are you doing here?" the pitcher said. "Get out there and get me a couple of base hits."

HOSPITALIZED

Score was taken to Lakeside Hospital, his head wrapped in bandages as though he had suffered a war wound. He felt numb at the hospital. "I didn't hurt much, but I didn't sleep much," he told The Plain Dealer.

He listened to most of the game on radio as Bob Lemon came in to pitch a 2-1 victory over the Yankees. Lemon had been given as much time as he needed to warm up after the mishap.
It was not the first time Score had suffered a serious injury. When he was 3 years old, he was hit by a bakery truck, and both legs were nearly crushed above the knees. It was feared he might never walk, but he recovered.

He had severe cases of pneumonia, rheumatic fever and appendicitis as a youngster. When he was in the minors he suffered a broken ankle and dislocated collarbone.

Score was kept in a darkened room at the hospital. "He amazes me with his courage," said Greenberg. "His spirits are certainly good."

McDougald, who was in tears after the game, tried to see him the next day, along with teammates Berra and Hank Bauer, but the hospital did not permit visitors.

There were fears Score might be blinded in the right eye. Dr. Charles I. Thomas, a Cleveland eye specialist, offered hope that would not happen. "He has light perception," the doctor said.
From then on, there was constant newspaper speculation on Score's possible return to pitching. One optimistic report said he would be back on July 15. But he still had a problem with depth perception. He could not tell if a ball was three or 30 feet away.

After a few months, the Indians said Score would be out the rest of the year.
He and Nancy had planned to be married at the end of the season. With baseball out of the picture, they wed in midseason. The couple settled in Rocky River and eventually had four children, Judy, Mary, Susan and David.

Score, looking ahead to 1958, exercised to stay in shape. He played racquetball with good friend Coleman, who defeated the pitcher at first. "When he began to beat me, I knew he was over the hump," Coleman said. "He hit the ball so hard he broke one in half."

Score returned to the mound with much fanfare in '58, but he had only a 2-2 record when he was put on the disabled list with a sore elbow on July 18. "There's two years shot," he said ruefully.

CHANGED MOTION

Joe Gordon, the new Indians manager, speculated that Score was unconsciously favoring his arm. In later years, McDougald and Lemon both said that Score had changed his pitching motion. They felt he was recoiling, not following through with the abandon of old.

Score always maintained that the McDougald accident had nothing to do with his decline. He attributed his problem to the sore arm.

He still could summon the old brilliance from time to time. Gordon started him in the 1959 home opener, and Score beat Detroit, 8-1, getting 19 outs in a row and striking out nine.

"He looks like my stopper," Gordon said.

Score managed to win nine games and lose five before the All Star break that year, but he was not pitching with the old dominance. He did not win another game that season, finishing 9-11 as the Indians wound up second.

On April 18, 1960, a day after he traded fan idol Colavito, General Manager Frank Lane sent Score to the Chicago White Sox for pitcher Barry Latman.

Score could not find the answers in Chicago, going 5-10 in 1960. The last victory of his career came in early 1961, when he hurled a magnificent game against the Indians, throwing a two-hitter and striking out 13 at Comiskey Park.

Then, the old problems returned. Lopez, now the White Sox leader, optioned him to San Diego of the Pacific Coast League. "Tell me, Al," said Score. "Do you think I should quit?"

"There's nothing wrong with you," Lopez replied. "You're not as fast as you used to be, but you're still faster than most, and you have a better curve than most pitchers. But you're not getting the ball over." He had 24 walks in 24 innings, along with a 6.66 earned-run average.
In 1963, Score was pitching for Indianapolis, an Indians farm team, when Indians General Manager Gabe Paul told the popular Coleman to choose between working Tribe games or Browns games. Coleman had been calling the games of both teams for 10 years, but Paul disliked seeing Coleman miss an Indians game because the Browns were playing the same day.
Coleman chose the Browns, and an Indians TV job opened up.

Paul presented Indians publicist Nate Wallack with a list of potential candidates to replace Coleman. Wallack looked at the list and said, "There's one fellow you haven't thought of, and I think he'd ring the bell. Herb Score."

Paul immediately agreed.

Late in September 1963, Score teamed with veteran Bob Neal on two Indians telecasts. They were widely regarded as a 1964 tryout for Score, then 30.

"This is a fine opportunity," he said. "I've always wanted to stay in baseball when my playing ended, and I'd like nothing better than to stay in Cleveland."

It was the start of a broadcasting career that made him a Cleveland fixture for more than three decades. Score was paired with Neal on TV in 1964, then with Harry Jones for three years. In 1968, he joined Neal on radio, replacing legendary Jimmy Dudley.

Score worked on radio for the rest of his career, partnering with Neal (1968-72), Joe Tait (1973-79), Nev Chandler (1980-84), Steve Lamar (1985-87), Paul Olden (1988-89) and Tom Hamilton (1990-97.)

"I'm lucky to have worked with pros who never tried to show up my lack of professional polish," Score said. "They fed me the right lines and taught me."

Neal, one of the great sportscasting talents in Cleveland history, advised him, "You're never going to please everybody. If you can please 50 percent, you're in good shape."
Score would get plenty of mail from listeners. "One listener will say you root too much," he said in 1974. "The next one will say you praise the visiting team too much. The main thing is to be myself."

EXCITED ANNOUNCER

Score's assets were his intelligence, good taste and enthusiasm. Even when the Indians were in their depths in the 1970s, he would get excited about games and good plays. "I don't like to make fun of a player or knock a player," he said. "But if I feel he should have made a catch, I'll say so."
Indians infielder Buddy Bell made a classic quote on Score in 1977. "Herb is such a nice guy, he probably makes his bed in his hotel room in the morning," Bell said.

To Score, the games were everything. "I don't like to talk too much," he said. "Fans want to know about the game, not what you did in the afternoon." He listed Cleveland pitcher Lenny Barker's perfect game in 1981 as his most memorable broadcast.

Score liked to joke about himself, recalling that when he first started broadcasting, he took diction lessons to smooth out his New York accent and pronunciation. He was advised to listen to a tape of himself. He did and promptly fell asleep.

He thoroughly enjoyed his job. "When I go to the Happy Hunting Ground, I hope I go from here," he said in 1977. "I hope this job lasts forever."

Score refused to feel sorry for himself and disliked sympathetic articles that pictured him as a victim because of McDougald's liner. "I'm a lucky fellow," he said. "I'm glad God gave me the ability to throw a baseball well for a few years. That drive could have killed me."

The solitude of the road suited him. "If we have an off-day, it's nothing for me to go to my room and read all day," he said. "After a game, I often go to the room and read." His favorite authors were Robert Ludlum and Sidney Sheldon.

He enjoyed the restaurants around the league. "That's why I run," he said. "So I can eat all I want." Score jogged about four miles a day, five times a week. He would usually do his running early in the morning, while others on the team were still asleep.

Until he was in his 40s, he often pitched batting practice to the Indians. "I'm a great BP pitcher," he said. "Now I realize I was throwing BP the last few years of my career."

Score almost lost his job in 1973, when team owner Nick Mileti announced he wanted a complete change of announcers. When it was learned Score might go off the air, Mileti was deluged with angry mail. "I never realized Herb had such a following," Mileti said, signing him to a new contract.

The Plain Dealer said listening to Score was like listening to an old friend

HERB'S ERRORS

As the years went on, his fans savored Score's occasional mistakes, such as the time he shouted, "It's a long drive. Is it fair? Is it foul? It is." When you are speaking a million words a season, you are bound to make an error from time to time

Sometimes he would forget what park he was in. After all, they are basically alike. "Hi, everybody," he said once. "This is Herb Score coming to you from Milwaukee County Stadium." A silence followed, in which it was obvious someone was correcting him.

"What," exclaimed Score, "Oh, Chicago's Comiskey Park. No wait a minute. I'll get this right. Kansas City's Royals Stadium."

Then there was the time he said at the end of an inning, "Two runs, three hits, one error, and after three, we're still scoreless."

Score's youngest daughter, Susan, who had Down syndrome, died in 1994 of heart problems. She had been in supportive living arrangements since infancy, and Score became a strong advocate and fund-raiser for one such facility, Our Lady of the Wayside.

Score retired at 64, after the Indians lost the World Series to Florida in 1997. "It's just time," he said. He almost never came to Jacobs Field, now Progressive Field, after that. He had been with the Indians, as a player or announcer, for almost 6,000 games.

CAR ACCIDENT

On Oct. 8, 1998, Score was almost killed in a car accident. He had been inducted into the Broadcasting Hall of Fame the previous night in Akron, then left the hotel early that morning to drive to Florida. He was alone in his Buick Riviera when he pulled into the path of a tractor-trailer in New Philadelphia, about 80 miles south of Cleveland.

The news report said he suffered bruises to the brain and lungs, face cuts, a broken bone above an eye and three broken ribs. He was unconscious and put on a ventilator. He was pronounced in critical but stable condition at Aultman Hospital, Canton.

Score was inducted into the Press Club of Cleveland Journalism Hall of Fame the next month, but could not attend the ceremony. He recovered in time to throw out the first pitch of the Indians home season in April 1999. He was being treated by a speech therapist at the time. In 2000 he had hip replacement surgery. In 2002 he was still taking physical therapy.

Bud Shaw: Indians broadcaster Herb Score was Cleveland baseball
by Bud Shaw/Plain Dealer Columnist
Tuesday November 11, 2008, 7:22 PM

Herb Score's voice was a whisper the last time I saw him. He needed a walker to get around. His legs were a mosaic of bruises and blotches.

"I'm lucky," he said that July day in 2006, a week before he would make his final public appearance at Jacobs Field.

He didn't mean lucky to have had a brilliant-if-brief major-league career or lucky for 34 years in the Indians' broadcast booth. Or lucky for the coming induction in the Cleveland Indians Hall of Fame with his great friend and old roommate, Rocky Colavito.

He glanced toward the door where his wife, Nancy, was greeting a visitor.
"Lucky to have Nancy?" I asked.
He nodded.

Herb Score's strength was his faith and family, for sure. But it was also his vision. He never looked back, especially not to ask, "Why me?" during a difficult, sometimes hellish, final decade of his life.

The man who symbolized Indians baseball for so many years when everything else about the team changed except its record of futility died at home early Tuesday with his wife and family at his side. He was 75.

"A great example of how to live your life," Tom Hamilton said Tuesday of his friend and former broadcast partner. "When I think of how he treated me -- I mean here was this baseball icon stuck with this dumb farm boy from Wisconsin -- and he made me feel comfortable from Day 1. . . . For 30 years, he was the best thing about Indians baseball."

Score never saw it that way. He didn't understand why showing up every day to do your job was such a big deal, particularly his job.

"I don't look upon this as work," he said when he announced in 1997 that he would retire after the season.

It's why the first spring training game he announced hardly sounded different than the last game he did, the crushing Game 7 loss to the Marlins in the '97 World Series.

He did his first TV game in 1964, moved to radio in 1968, missed one -- one -- game between then and 1994 when the passing of his daughter, Susan, forced his absence from the booth. His motto: Fans should remember what happened in the game, not what he said.

"It was never about him," said Hamilton. "And in our business, that's quite an exception."

Remembering the game and not something Score said wasn't always cut and dried. There were so many nondescript games until the Indians changed the culture of a city beginning in 1994. And, well, he had his memorable broadcast moments, too.

His bloopers became terms of endearment with fans, in a sense strengthening his connection with listeners. With Score, it was easy to forgive a botched call -- "Is it fair? Is it foul? It is!"

So many players came and went. Referring to Indians reliever Efrain Valdez one time as Efrem Zimbalist Jr. (the star of the TV show "The F.B.I."), well, you try keeping them all straight.
The even-keeled Score and the emotional Hamilton made perfect partners for eight seasons.

Everyone, Hamilton included, was rooting for Score as the magic of the 1997 postseason unfolded. He deserved to see a World Series champ. The Indians would return a contender in 1998, no matter what happened. Score would not be back.

"The only time I saw a different Herb was when Tony Fernandez hit that home run against Baltimore," Hamilton said of the 11th-inning home run in the '97 ALCS. "Herb got up out of his chair when he made that call. You knew then how much that must've meant."

Listeners didn't see that. But they heard it in Score's voice when he said, "The Indians are going to the World Series." And they couldn't possibly have minded the pause and the clarification that was necessary since the Orioles had one final at-bat remaining: "Maybe."

They did go. And when that trip ended in disappointment, Score didn't show his. Just like always, he ended his part of the final broadcast by throwing it to Hamilton for the postgame wrapup.

That was that. No sappy remembrances. No suggestion that he had left any bigger tracks behind as an intimate guest in the living room of Indians fans for three decades than a summer temp might've.

We know the difference even if he didn't. Hamilton says he doesn't believe Score ever really understood how much people respected him and adored him. A generation of Indians fans knew him as one of the greatest pitching talents in baseball history, the American League Rookie of the Year in 1955 whose rookie strikeout mark (245) stood until the New York Mets' Dwight Gooden came along in 1984.

The affection came in part from seeing his career viciously interrupted by the line drive off the bat of the New York Yankees' Gil McDougald in 1957 that nearly blinded Score. But it also stemmed from how he never wallowed in self-pity. Not then. Not after a car accident that nearly killed him in 1998.

The last decade of his life was filled with unrelenting challenges.

The accident. A stroke. Surgery. Staph infection. A bout with pneumonia. And the extended hospital stay that preceded his death Tuesday. It was difficult to watch for those who loved him, and everyone who knew him loved him.

Even those who knew the voice better than they knew the man appreciated his understated class and his knowledge of the game.

In 1995, when the Indians were clearly ending decades of ineptitude with a truly special season, legendary Detroit Tigers broadcaster Ernie Harwell said, "Herb deserves this."
"I don't deserve it," Score said when told of Harwell's words. "The city deserves it."
It was a small quibble. Cleveland baseball. Herb Score. Same thing.

Top Five Herb Score Memories - Bill Livingston

Herb was the "Voice of the Indians" on either TV or radio from1964-97. He didn't sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" like Harry Caray or cry "How about that?" like Mel Allen. He didn't root like Phil Rizzuto and he never quoted from the "Song of Solomon" about the "Song of the Turtle(dove)" like Ernie Harwell. But the Old Lefthander taught us a thing or two about the game and left us with a thousand or two great memories.

5. Listening to Herbie, you never knew if the Indians were winning or losing. He never screamed, "The Indians win the pennant!" (even when they did, twice). He never let the team's 41 years in the wilderness or the losing get him down. Herbie knew you played to win the game, each day, every day, with a purity of effort and tightness of focus, long before Herm Edwards made that a rallying cry in the NFL.

4. He was the voice of summer in Northeast Ohio. Through all the player trades, the failed saviors, the under-funded owners, Score was always there, the soothing voice of a franchise that was fortunate to associate with him.

3. He knew the game. Whenever a controversy arose or a rhubarb broke out, Herbie was quick to tell us what it was all about.

2. He never blamed the end of his career on his eye injury, or the arm he hurt after he came back. "I lost my job because I quit pitching well," he said.

1. Herb never forgot how hard the game is to play. It was a rare and especially egregious blunder that would cause Score to criticize a player on the air.

Ten Inexactly Expressed Sentiments from Herb Score

Then again, he wouldn't be Herbie without the head-scratching malapropisms and endearing vagueness.

10. Herb often had trouble distinguishing between Oakland platoon catchers Mickey Tettleton and Terry Steinbach. During one game when the former was at bat, Herb called him "Mickey Tettlebach."

9. Carl Yastrzemski came to bat in his last game at Fenway Park against the Tribe in 1983, moving Herb to say: "A standing ovation here from the fans in Baltimore for their hero." Then he added: "Yaz played 23 years for the Orioles."

8. Once during the days when Score partnered in the booth with Steve Lamarr, Herb ended a broadcast with: "This is Steve Lamarr, signing off for Herb Score. Good night, Tribe fans."

7. When a player was on a hot hitting streak, Herb said: "He is 24 for his last 49, and even I know that is over .500."

6. With the Indians leading Baltimore, three-games-to-two and the sixth game in extra innings in the 1997 ALCS, Tony Fernandez homered in the top of the 11th inning to give the Tribe a 1-0 lead. Said Score: "And the Indians are going to the World Series - maybe!"

5. When a pitcher was working from the stretch, Score offered: "The pitcher checks the runner on first. I beg your pardon, there is no runner on first."

4. On a double down the line, Herb said: "It's fair. It's foul. It is."

3. With Esteban Yan warming up, Herb identified him as "Ron Jantz" (pronounced, Yontz), a local weekend sports anchor.

2. With Efrain Valdez stalking in from the bullpen, Score identified him as "Efrem Zimbalist Jr."

1. This one requires a little backstory: The Indians, who had played in Kansas City the night before, were in Milwaukee, and next were headed for Boston. After a night of conviviality that included a libation or two with old friends but no sleep, Score arrived in the booth feeling well south of the fair-weather line. Partner Nev Chandler did the first inning, in which the Royals took a 2-0 lead. A game, but outgunned Herbie, called a six-pitch Tribe top of the second, the brevity of which kept him from getting into any rhythm. He then said: "And, after one-and-a-half innings, the score is: Kansas City two, Indians nothing."

A check of the outfield revealed no waterfall behind the center field fence, so Score nimbly recovered and said: "I beg your pardon. We are not in Kansas City. We are in Boston. And the score is: Red Sox two, Tribe nothing." A further check of the surroundings revealed no Green Monster in left.

"What city are we in, Nev?" asked Herbie, amiably.

"Milwaukee, Herb," Chandler replied, sotto voce.

"And the score is: Brewers two, Tribe nothing," Score concluded triumphantly.
When the Indians returned home at the end of the road trip, General Manager Phil Seghi asked Chandler before the game: "Does Herb know he's in Cleveland?"

Cleveland Indians broadcaster Tom Hamilton says Herb Score was "a great partner"
by Paul Hoynes

There were 20 seconds left in the timeout between innings during the 1997 Indians season. Herb Score turned to his partner, Tom Hamilton, and said, 'Oh, by the way, Tom, this is going to be my last year.' "

With that, Herb Score put on his headset, looked down on the field and told the radio audience, "Here's the wind and the pitch. . ."

Hamilton laughed about that because it was so typical of Score, the longtime Indians broadcaster who died Tuesday morning at his Rocky River home. He was 75.

No muss, no fuss, just get on with the game.

"He was the most unpretentious person I've ever known," said Hamilton. "It was never about Herbie. It was always about the game."

Score and Hamilton did the Indians radio broadcasts together from 1990 through 1997, the year Score retired. Hamilton moved into Score's chair after that.

"We couldn't have been more polar opposites," said Hamilton. "He was sophisticated and had been in the big leagues forever. I was a dumb farm boy from Wisconsin, who had worked his way to Columbus. But he treated me as an equal even though I was never on his level.

"I'm sure there were plenty of times he wanted to wring my neck for something I said in the booth, but he never criticized me. He was very subtle when he gave you advice."

When Hamilton went to spring training in Tucson, Ariz., to cover the Indians in 1990, he thought they were going to take the American League by storm. Hard to blame him because he'd never been to a big-league camp before.

Halfway through spring training, Score talked to him.
"Herb tells me, 'Look, this isn't a very good team, but you can't let that affect how you do a ball game,' said Hamilton. "Every game has to be treated equally.' It was the best advice I've ever gotten.

"It's easy to broadcast for a team that's going to win 100 games and go to the World Series. But if you listened to Herb, there was no difference in the way he did games in 1990 than in 1995 when we reached the World Series. Herbie felt that you treated every game as equally as possible because that night you could see something you've never seen before."

The 1990 Indians, for the record, went 77-85.

Four teams now call Tucson home for spring training. When the Indians trained there, they were the only one. It made for a lot of long rides to Phoenix and beyond to play Cactus League games.
Hamilton was a frequent passenger of Score's.

"That's because Herbie got the (rental) car and I didn't," laughed Hamilton.
During the drives, Score listened to Frank Sinatra, much to Hamilton's dismay.

"I think I know every word to every Frank Sinatra song there is," said Hamilton. "I even started to like him. I think Herb may have done that just so he wouldn't have had to listen to me."
Hamilton knew he was working with a Cleveland legend. Score was the AL Rookie of the Year for the Indians in 1955. He just wasn't sure Score knew.

"For so long, until we got good in 1994, Herb was the best thing the Indians had going," said Hamilton. "He was the one constant. Owners, general managers and players all came and went. Herbie never left. He was a star here, and he stayed here. That's why he was such an icon, but he never sought that out.

"He was a great partner. I felt very lucky to get the Indians job, but I never realized how lucky I was to have Herbie as a partner. He was a great teacher and mentor."

Hamilton said he learned something about baseball every day working with Score.
"I can't tell you how many times writers would come into the booth and say, 'What was that all about, Herbie?' " said Hamilton. "He usually knew what was going to happen two innings before it happened.

"He never pontificated about it in the booth, but he knew the game so well. I think he could have been a general manager, or anything he wanted to be in the game."

Hamilton stayed close to Score and his family after his retirement. In 1998, Score was almost killed in a car accident and never fully recovered.

Early Tuesday morning, Hamilton received a call from Score's wife, Nancy, telling him that Herb had died.

"To me, Herb and Nancy epitomized grace and style," said Hamilton. "They'd walk into a room, and every head would turn. Just a tremendous family."

Tuesday November 11, 2008, 5:38 PM