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

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.

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."