I’m On a Publication Deadline Break.

December 2, 2009

Hi, folks! I’m on a publication deadline break that has saved you from the spam of my blogs these past few days. I will be done with my work pressures and back on the blog firing line by the weekend. If any of you do not want to receive notices about my pretty much daily, heavily baseball oriented articles, just let me know and I will drop your name from the mailing list. I don’t want to be a bother to anyone.

There is a one-liner answer Q&A that I heard on TV Sports last night that goes with the banner photo above of our one dollar bill. I’d give credit if I knew who came up with the line, but that wasn’t revealed, but as a contemporary sports observation in Houston these days, it’s priceless. I’ll leave it with you as our thought for the day:

Question: How is a one dollar bill different from the Houston Texans NFL club?

Answer: You can get four quarters out of a one dollar bill.

Have a nice Wednesday, Houston professional football fans!

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Black Friday Sale on Baseball Robots.

November 27, 2009

What if Major League Baseball teams were able to lease replica baseball player robots that were capable of performing at the same level of their namesakes? The only conditions and restrictions on these contracts are these:

1. Contracts must be completed with the PlayerMax Company Manufacturing Firm today, Black Friday, or not opened again for reconsideration again until the Friday after Thanksgiving 2010.

2. By agreement with MLB Licensing and the Players’ Union, player robots are modeled only upon big leaguers who played in the 20th century up to 1960 only.

3. By agreement with the Players’ Union Competition Committee, robots may only be leased per annum at the rate of their highest best year salary earned as humans in the big leagues. Salaries/leasing rates range from $3,000 to $80,000 per year. Leasing teams will pay a fee that is based on the actual player’s salary for the year he performed as you desire him to be programmed for their 2010 clubs. If you want a Babe Ruth robot from 1921, you will have to pay the company what Ruth made in salary for that year.

4. Only one model robot for each actual player is available to the leasing pool. If someone takes a ’21 or ’27 Babe Ruth model, no other club may choose a Babe Ruth robot from any other year. They must select a player model that has yet to be taken in this draft for any year.

5. All leasing opportunities are based inversely on each club’s 2009 record. The worst teams draft first; the best teams draft last. In case of ties, alphabetical order will rule as the tie-breaker on who drafts first.

6. Each MLB club will have four robot draft choices, but with a $100,000 budget ceiling on leasing funds that may be spent on all players chosen.

7. The draft will contain four rounds. Teams that exhaust their budget ceilings  earlier will be out of the draft for the remainder of their choices.

8. Teams that do not use their entire budgets will donate the unused portions to the Players Union Pension Fund, plus (major “harrumph” here), each MLB team will pay $10,000,000 into the Pension Fund each year in exchange for the right to indulge in the robot option.

9. All leasing arrangements are for one year only. No future service options are for sale and no refunds or replacements are allowed for robots that break down after the leasing contracts are signed.

Here’s the draft order for today’s robot picks. How would you pick ’em based on the most obvious needs of each club? If you have any ideas on what the weakest clubs should do, please post them below as comments upon this article.

Black Friday Baseball Fiction Bonus: The more time you spend on this exercise today, the less time you will have for spending money  at the mall.

Robot (1901-1960) Player Draft Order:

1. Washington; 2. Pittsburgh; 3. Baltimore; 4. Cleveland; 5. Kansas City; 6.Arizona; 7. New York Mets; 8. Houston; 9. Oakland; 10. San Diego; 11. Toronto; 12. Cincinnati; 13. Chicago White Sox; 14. Milwaukee; 15. Chicago Cubs; 16. Tampa Bay; 17. Seattle; 18. Detroit; 19. Atlanta; 20. Florida; 21. Minnesota; 22. Texas; 23. San Francisco; 24. St. Louis; 25. Colorado; 26. Philadelphia; 27. Boston; 28. Los Angeles Dodgers; 29. Los Angeles Angels at Anaheim; 30. New York Yankees.

If you were a real MLB general manager, and this cyber-solution were a real way to fill the holes on your club, this robot player draft would now likely loom as the most important business of your off-season administration period.

Hope some of you bedrock fans have fun with the idea. It really will be better for you than a Christmas shopping trip today.

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Happy Thanksgiving, Everybody!

November 25, 2009

Things aren’t exactly slow around my house as we move into the Wednesday Eve of Thanksgiving Day. Publication deadlines (elsewhere), some commitments at the office, and relatives arriving from out-of-town this afternoon have me up to my neck in all the things I’m also grateful to have in my life. And that’s what I want to reflect on briefly as we all all head into our national day of dedicated gratitude.

Let me put it this way: Thank God for life; thank God for love; thank God for friends and family; thank God for the passionate hearts we were all given to rise above our basic survival joys and give ourselves to the attainment of something larger than our selfish personal gain alone; and thank God for giving us the tools to go to work on whatever it is we need to help build. Finally, thank God for giving us the basic wisdom from the pain of our experiences to find our true paths and, as importantly, thank God for giving us the courage to travel our individually dedicated ways, no matter what.

Happy Thanksgiving, Everybody!

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Wasn’t That The Year The Owls Were So Bad?

November 24, 2009

Talking with an Internet friend this morning about the old days, I was reminded again of my late dad and how he took to computers like a duck to water back in the early 1980s. He was about my current age back then, retired, but still full of energy for something to do. I bought him one of the early Apple IIe computers because I thought he might enjoy the banking and writing features. We didn’t have the Internet in 1983, but anything we did get from these early specimens of the coming high tech age were so far far ahead of typewriters and calculators it wasn’t funny.

Somewhat to my surprise, it was the word processor that really lit my dad’s fire. Unencumbered by his barely legible handwriting or the plethora of errors that always plagued dad about typewriters, the word processor freed him to write his memoirs about growing up in a small Texas town in the early 20th century.

Dad’s “book” derived its title from an expression he picked up from former major leaguer and fellow Beeville native Curt Walker. Walker was like an older brother or surrogate father to my dad while he was growing up fatherless back in the early 20th century. In addition to being an off-season undertaker in Beeville, Curt Walker was a man with little time and patience for those among the living who would take up a morning from others just to share personal stories that were so concretely wrapped in uninteresting material that they rivaled paint-drying as an opportunity for stimulation.

Whenever one of these old codgers would get started with a “back in 1915” tale, Curt would simply interject the following as the earliest opportunity: “Wasn’t that the year the owls were so bad?”

According to Dad, that question always worked with the Beeville crowd. Instead of waiting for the deadly story, they would embark upon the newer question: What’s this about an owl invasion? Was 1915 the year it really it happened, or was it some other time and place?. Meanwhile, Curt Walker would be making his way out of the conversation circle and heading elsewhere. Mission accomplished. If the subject ever did return to whatever the old geezer wanted to say, Curt Walker would be long gone from the scene.

“Wasn’t That the Year The Owls Were So Bad?” became the title to my dad’s book of memoirs about life in a small town.

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Why Was The Sandlot So Joyful?

November 23, 2009

Our Eagle Field (1950) is Now Called Japonica Park.

The Pecan Park Eagles were real. Back in 1950, we played on an East End site in our neighborhood that we called Eagle Field. We played other places too, but this was our turf, our home field, our hatchery for every baseball dream that any of us ever knew. We had no lights at this sacred ground, but we didn’t need them. At a time in our young lives when summers meant we owned the place from from dawn to dusk, we didn’t need night baseball. Besides, night time was Houston Buffs time, a time for all of us to either be at Buff Stadium in the Knothole Gang, or else, to be listening tight to Loel Passe broadcasting the games over AM radio station KTHT, 790 on the dial.

What none of us knew back there in those innocent days of our young lives seems simple now. No matter what any us accomplished from there, some things would never get any better than they already were back in the summers of 1947 through 1952. Those years, especially the summer of 1950, were the seasons of the Pecan Park Eagles, and Eagle Field is where we all yielded our hearts and best playing efforts to the game of sandlot baseball. Nothing ever, in any form, yielded more pure joy to any of us than those treasured moments in the sun that we Eagles shared with each other on that hallowed turf.

Unfettered by normal adult responsibilities and the kind of cultural cynicism that now seems to ooze from every loose seam in the talking heads media, and also from every social network site on the Internet, we simply lived out the days of 1950 living in the moment of acting out our grandest dreams on a field that was tailor made by God for bare-feet running, heavy sweat bat-swinging, and rag-tag ball catching with hand-me-down gloves on a makeshift diamond that just happened to be available to us at the place where Japonica bleeds into Myrtle Street, one block over from Griggs Road and about two blocks east on Griggs from the Gulf Freeway.

The old place is still there in 2009, but it’s sadly now cluttered with playground equipment that we would’ve hated and probably destroyed sixty years ago. These things would only get in the way of a good game. Sadly too, today’s kids of my old neighborhood don’t seem to need that good game as once we did. They also don’t seem to either need the playground swings, etc., that the City of Houston has so thoughtfully constructed for them. I usually check out the old place about once a year – and I’ve never seen a kid playing there anytime I’ve driven by my oldest and strongest early haunt.

Driving slowly past Eagle Field, I sometimes stop and walk out upon it again, just to note all the landmarks that still remind me of what it was like to play ball there. The telephone pole in deep center field appears to be the same one that was in place all those many decades ago. There’s a big mixed breed dog in Mrs. McGee’s fenced backyard that now barks at me as though it would eat me alive if it could. I can still look over to the front porch of Randy Hunt’s old house. It seems that my presence on the “The Lot” (it’s other name) would bring Randy bounding out the front door to join me with a ball and glove, as it once did, but that never happens these days.

I never leave the place without saying something to Eagle Field like, “Goodbye, old friend, until next time!”

If I really have to explain why my personal sandlot was so joyful, I guess I can’t do it. Just know that some loves never end. And this was my big one.

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The Phold of ’64!

November 22, 2009

It’s not a new story. It’s also not one that those us who were around in those days will ever forget. The 1964 Philadelphia Phillies had the world on a string late in the season. With 12 games to go, they held a 6 1/2 game lead over the St. Louis Cardinals and the Cincinnati Reds and they were moving into a seven-game home stand that surely would allow them to finish the job and prepare for the World Series, most probably against the New York Yankees. It was to be the year that the Phillies got back at the Yankees for that four-game sweep in the 1950 World Series.

It was not to be. Something happened to turn destiny on its tail and send it the other way, shooting up the halls of heartache in eastern Pennsylvania and forever altering the course of baseball history.

The easiest, incomplete way to summarize it is simple. Manager Gene Mauch made a fatal decision going into the seven-game home stand to basically go with a two-man rotation the rest of the way. As a result, starters Jim Bunning and Chris Short got the nod to start 7 of the next 10 games, 6 of which resulted in starts on 2 days rest. The Phillies lost all ten games while the Cardinals and Reds both heated up.

The Phillies finally won their last two games of the season, but that only left them tied with Cincinnati for 2nd place. Philly fans had hoped for more. Didn’t happen. The Cardinals won on the last day of 1964, giving them a one-game championship advantage over Philadelphia and Cincinnati.

The “Philadelphia Phold” was complete. The New York Yankees-Philadelphia Phillies World Series Reunion would have to wait until 2009 while the ’64 St. Louis Cardinals renewed their 1926-1928, 1942-1943 World Series rivalry with the Bronx Bombers.

Because of The Phold, the Cardinals had a chance to beat the Yankees in a thrilling seven-game Series in 1964. The Cardinals win cost Yogi Berra his job as manager of the Yankees and handed it to Johnny Keane, the manager of the Miracle Cards, who himself was in line to be fired by St. Louis until his club pulled this incredible comeback and capture of the 1964 World Series Championship.

Who can ever know how far The Phold rippled? Maybe if the Phillies had made it to the 1964 World Series and lost to the Yankees, just maybe it would have been good enough for Mickey Mantle to retire then in contentment, sparing himself and the rest of us  those four extra final seasons (1965-68) that tore his career average down below .300 and exposed him to living decay as a ballplayer in the field.

Maybe this. Maybe that.

And who knows how the absence of The Phold might have affected the future careers of Yogi Berra, Johnny Keane, and Gene Mauch differently? When a team blows a 6 1/2 game lead with 12 games left to play, it simply changes everything for everybody for all time.

What’s impossible to recapture here is how it felt daily to watch this steady slide into ignominy that the Phillies made so desperately. Short of writing a whole book that awakens all the five senses, including special horror movie sound effects on the subject, the best a writer can hope for in this short space is to show you how the Phold Phound Philly over that dark period through a daily look at changes in the standings:

9/20/64: The Phillies (90-60) led the Cardinals (83-66) & the Reds (83-66) by 6.5 games with 12 games to go for the Phillies.

9/21/64: Reds 1 – Phillies 0; Cardinals idle.

Phillies (90-61) led the Reds (84-66)  by 5.5 games & the Cardinals (83-66) by 6 with 11 games to go for the Phillies.

9/22/64: Reds 9 – Phillies 2; Cardinals 2 – Mets 0.

Phillies (90-62) led the Reds (85-66) by 4.5 games & the Cardinals (84-66) by 5 games with 10 games to go for the Phillies.

9/23/64: Reds 6 – Phillies 4; Mets 2 – Cardinals 1.

Phillies (90-63) led the Reds (86-66) by 3.5 games & the Cardinals (84-67) by 5 games with 9 games to go for the Phillies.

9/24/64: Braves 5 – Phillies 3; Cardinals 4-4 – Pirates 2-0; Reds idle.

Phillies (90-64) led the Reds (86-66) by 3 games & the Cardinals (86-67) by 3.5 games with 8 games to go for the Phillies.

9/25/64: Braves 7 – Phillies 5; Reds 3-4 – Mets 0-1; Cardinals 5 – Pirates 3.

Phillies (90-65) led the Reds (88-66) by 1.5 games & the Cardinals (87-67) by 2.5 games with 7 games to go for the Phillies.

9/26/64: Braves 6 – Phillies 4; Reds 6 – Mets 1; Cardinals 6 – Pirates 3.

Phillies (90-66) led the Reds (89-66) by 0.5 games & the Cardinals (88-67) by 1.5 games with 6 games to go for the Phillies.

9/27/64: Braves 14 – Phillies 8; Reds 9-3 – Mets 1-1; Cardinals 5 – Pirates 0.

Reds (91-66) now led the Phillies (90-67) by 1 game & the Cardinals (89-67) by 1.5 games with 5 games to go for the Phillies.

9/28/64: Reds idle; Cardinals 5 – Phillies 1.

Reds (91-66) now led the Cardinals (90-67) by 1 game & the Phillies (90-68) by 1.5 games with 4 games to go for the Phillies.

9/29/64: Pirates 2 – Reds 0; Cardinals 4 – Phillies 2.

Cardinals (91-67) & the Reds (91-67) are now tied for 1st; the Phillies (90-69) now trail by 1.5 games with 3 games to go.

9/30/64: Cardinals 8 – Phillies 5; Pirates 1 – Reds 0.

Cardinals (92-67) now led the Reds (91-68) by 1 game & the Phillies (90-70) by 2.5 games with 2 games to go for the Phillies.

10/01/64: Cardinals & Phillies idle; Reds 5 – Pirates 4.

Cardinals (92-67) now led the Reds (92-68) by 1 game & the Phillies (90-70) by 2.5 games with 2 games to go for the Phillies.

10/02/64: Mets 1 – Cardinals 0; Phillies 4 – Reds 3.

Cardinals (92-68) now led the Reds (92-69) by 0.5 games & the Phillies (91-70) by 1.5 games with 1 game to go for the Phillies.

10/03/64: Mets 15 – Cardinals 5; Reds & Phillies idle.

Cardinals (92-69) now tied with the Reds (92-69) for 1st; the Phillies (91-70) are 1 game back with 1 game to go for all three contending clubs.

10/04/64: Cardinals 11 – Mets 5; Phillies 10 – Reds 0.

Cardinals (93-69) win the NL pennant by 1 game over the Reds (92-70) and Phillies (92-70).

The Phillies came back with a death rattle run in their last two games, but it was far too little and way too late. Forty-five years later, 1964 still hangs in my mind as the most exciting pennant race in personal memory. Some of you will understand exactly what I’m saying here, as will those fans outside Philadelphia who didn’t cut their throats in funereal sympathy for the Phillies.

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My Native Texan College Team!

November 21, 2009

Texas Baseball History Goes Way, Way Back!

Lone Stars of the Diamond, like most good reference books, is a work that lingers. I couldn’t resist having a minor run this morning at organizing my all-time native Texan team of former college players. In the short run, all I could do was come up with a roster I wouldn’t mind taking to spring training for the sake of allowing performance to whittle things down from there – with one major exception. If Tris Speaker goes 0 for 50 in spring training, he will still be my starting center fielder on Opening Day.

If you’re wondering where Roger Clemens is because you don’t know any better, he’s missing, of course, because he wasn’t born in Texas. He was born in Ohio. Otherwise, had he been a native Texan, Roger Clemens would have been my Opening Day starting pitcher, no matter what.

Here’s the spring training roster, with all of these guys showing up in their primes. Brad Mills should be so lucky, but that’s not how these kinds of all star teams work. We fans can put this kind team together and not be impeded by reality. If we were, I’d hate to consider what this team would cost us at today’s market values:

C – Matt Batts, Baylor; Chris Snyder, Houston; Jason LaRue, Dallas Baptist

1B – Lance Berkman, Rice; Norm Cash, Sul Ross; Eddie Robinson, Paris JC

2b – Davey Johnson, Texas A&M; Chuck Knoblauch, Texas A&M; Debs Garms, Howard Payne

3b – Grady Hatton, Texas; Max Alvis, Texas; Pinky Higgins, Texas

SS – Spike Owen, Texas; Roger Metzger, St. Edward’s; Ben Zobrist, Dallas Baptist; Topper Rigney, Texas A&M

LF – Don Baylor, Blinn JC; Bibb Falk, Texas; Ox Eckhardt, Texas; Steve Henderson, Prairie View A&M; Jose Cruz, Jr., Rice; Glenn Wilson, Sam Houston State; Aubrey Huff, Miami

CF – Tris Speaker, Texas Wesleyan; Curt Walker, Southwestern; Michael Bourn, Houston; Max West, North Texas; Jim Busby, TCU

RF – Beau Bell, Texas A&M; Ernie Koy, Texas; Keith Moreland, Texas; Carl Warwick, TCU; Hunter Pence, UT Arlington

P  –  John Lackey, UT-Arlington

P –  Doug Drabek, Houston

P –  Woody Williams, Houston

P – Burt Hooton, Texas

P – Tex Carleton, TCU

P – Bert Gallia, St. Mary’s

P – Murray Wall, Texas

P – Dou Rau, Texas A&M

P – Huston Street, Texas

P – Greg Swindell, Texas

P – Bill Henry, Houston

P – Calvin Schiraldi, Texas

P – Joel Horlen, Oklahoma State

P – Dennis Cook, Texas

P – Tex Hughson, Texas

P – Kip Wells, Baylor

P – Ryan Wagner, Houston

Have a great weekend, everybody!

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Lone Stars of the Diamond

November 20, 2009

One of the all-time most interesting books on Texas baseball history was published in 2007 by Halcyon Press here in Houston. “Lone Stars of the Diamond” by  David King and Chuck Pickard was a landmark documentation of every native Texan who had ever played a single smidgeon second in the big leagues through the 2006 season. There may have some minor additions over the past three uncovered years (2007-09), but not enough to detract from this reference work’s historical value to bedrock students of the game’s past. The book is still available from

Amazon. Com for $24.95, plus tax and shipping, if you’re interested.

The book tracks every native Texan since the first one made it to the big leagues in 1895. Needless to say by name, the two fellows pictured at the the top of this article stand together, alone above all others, as the two greatest native Texan ballplayers in big league history. One is renowned as the greatest right-handed hitter in all of baseball history; the other is remembered as the greatest center-fielder of his time and the all-time leader in doubles. Both men managed teams to World Series wins and each is enshrined in the Hall of Fame at Cooperstown.

This book goes far beyond Rogers Hornsby and Tris Speaker in its treatment of the facts about native Texan roots and accomplishments. It’s so factual, in fact (which is what a reference book is supposed to be), that it could’ve been written in years past by Sergeants Joe Friday and Frank Smith from the old TV show, “Dragnet.”

If you want to know who else reached the Hall of Fame besides Hornsby and Speaker, it’s in there. If you want to know the leaders in a wide range of statistical categories, it’s in there. If you want to know who and how many major leaguers were born in your Texas home town, it’s in there. If you want to know about the great native Texan Negro Leaguers, that’s tight, one more time, it’s in there.

I am walking proof that there’s no way to come even close to knowing all that much about the history of baseball. There’s just too much to absorb from a clear factual standpoint – and that’s why we need the kinds of help we get from people like David King and Chuck Pickard.

I did find one error that I need to address under the list of native Texan big leaguers by city of birth. My birth home town of Beeville is responsible for four native Texan big leaguers. Three of them (Bert Gallia, Curt Walker, and Lloyd Brown) all played in the early part of the 20th century. The fourth (Eddie Taubensee) was a former Houston Astro from the latter part of the 20th century. The “Lone Stars” list also includes Beau Bell as hailing from Beeville, which he didn’t. Beau Bell actually was born in Bellville, Texas. For all I know, his family may have even founded the place before they lost credit as Bellville in “Lone Stars” for their only native son.

(Wait a minute. I think I know what some of you are are thinking and the answer is “No, Ernie Koy was not born in Bellville, the town that became his well-known home through most of his life. Ernie Koy was born down the road at Sealy – which did receive proper credit for him as a birthplace son in “Lone Stars.”)

Mssrs. King and Pickard are to be forgiven here for this minor mistake. The “sounds-the-same” and “looks alike” confusion between Beeville and Bellville is historical. My grandfather, who owned and ran the Beeville Bee back in the 19th century, used to complain in print about receiving mail that was actually intended for the Bellville, Texas newspaper editor. “Beeville and Bellville need to get together and find a way to decide which town changes its name,” Grandfather Will McCurdy wrote back in 1888. “Unless the cities do get together and change one of the town names, people far into the future will still be confusing the two places with each other long after we are all gone.”

The erroneous listing of Beau Bell as a native of Beeville just proves one more time that Grandfather McCurdy was right. It’s still a matter too slight to detract from all the important hard work that went into the making of “Lone Stars.” I have no stake in the matter, but I highly recommend this work to those of you who are members of SABR and also to anyone else who is even slightly interested in the nuts and bolts of Texas baseball history.

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Ed Mickelson: Minor League All Star!

November 19, 2009

Mickelson Got the Last RBI in St. Louis Browns History.

Today at 83, Ed Mickelson is a silver-haired Cary Grant type living out his happy life in St. Louis, Missouri. Yesterday at 27, he collected the last run batted in recorded in St. Louis Browns history. He did it in a 2-1 losing cause against the Chicago White Sox on the last day of the 1953 season at old Sportsman’s Park. I wrote a parody to commemorate the event, once upon a time.  That signature RBI wasn’t the only thing that Ed ever did in baseball, but it is the thing he wants to be remembered for having done as a member of the Browns’ far from legendary last club on earth back in 1953. The next season, the franchise moved to Baltimore and hatched upon the scene as the Orioles.

In 2007, Ed Mickelson personally wrote his own story and published it through McFarland’s.  Still available through Amazon, the Mickelson biography is entitled “Out of the Park: Memoir of a Minor League Baseball All Star.” It’s well written and a good read, detailing Mickelson’s eleven season career (1947-57). He started with Decatur and ended up with Portland, achieving a lifetime minor league batting average of .316 and 108 home runs in 1,089 minor league games played. Ed even went 3 for 9 as a Houston Buff in 1952 before being reassigned by the parent Cardinals club to Rochester.

Mickelson also played 18 games total in the major leagues for the 1950 St. Louis Cardinals, the 1953 St. Louis Browns, and the 1957 Chicago Cubs. That record RBI single that scored Johnny Groth from second base in 1953 also was one of only three RBI that Ed managed in his brief major league career. His MLB average of .089 helps to explain his limited action beyond the minor leagues.

Ed Mickelson is one of the nicest people you could ever meet. He’s a bright guy who looks the part of his current role as an aging gracefully first baseman. The BR/TR, 6’3″ and still lanky guy could not better look the part if he tried.

Mickelson compiled a number of honors for his minor league play over the years, but that’s the stuff of Ed’s story in the book. Just one peek here: Ed Mickelson is also notably proud of the fact that he got his first major league hit in the form of a single off the great Warren Spahn back in 1950. I definitely remember Ed’s short 1952 stay with the Buffs too, but the Cardinals didn’t leave him here long enough to do that sad Buff team much good.

In honor of Ed Mickelson’s last RBI in St. Louis Browns history, here’s that parody I wrote years ago in all their honors:

The Lost Hurrah: September 27, 1953
Chicago White Sox 2 – St. Louis Browns 1.

(A respectful parody of “Casey At The Bat” by Ernest L. Thayer in application to the last game ever played by our beloved St. Louis Browns.)

by Bill McCurdy (1997)

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Brownie nine that day;
They were moving from St. Louis – to a place quite far away,
And all because Bill Veeck had said, “I can’t afford to stay,”
The team was playing their last game – in that fabled Brownie way.

With hopes of winning buried deep – beneath all known dismay,
The Brownies ate their cellar fate, but still charged out to play.
In aim to halt a last hard loss – in a season dead since May,
They sent Pillette out to the mound – to speak their final say.

The White Sox were that last dance foe – at the former Sportsman’s Park,
And our pitcher pulsed the pallor of those few fans in the dark.
To the dank and empty stands they came, – one final, futile time,
To witness their dear Brownies reach – ignominy sublime.

When Mickelson then knocked in Groth – for the first run of the game,
It was to be the last Browns score, – from here to kingdom came.
And all the hopes that fanned once more, – in that third inning spree,
Were briefly blowing in the wind, – but lost eternally.

For over seven innings then, – Dee bleached the White Sox out,
And the Browns were up by one to oh, – when Rivera launched his clout.
That homer tied the score at one, – and then the game ran on.
Until eleven innings played, – the franchise was not gone.

But Minnie’s double won the game – for the lefty, Billy Pierce,
And Dee picked up the last Browns loss; – one hundred times is fierce!
And when Jim Dyck flew out to end – the Browns’ last time at bat,
The SL Browns were here no more, and that was that, – was that!

Oh, somewhere in this favored land, the sun is shining bright;

The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;

And somewhere men are laughing, – and little children shout,

But there’s no joy in Sislerville, – the Brownies have pulled out.

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Speaking of Fingers…

November 18, 2009

"Have a Nice Day, Buffalo Bills!"

What was Bud Adams thinking last Sunday in Nashville?

His NFL club, the Tennessee Titans, had just dispatched the visiting Buffalo Bills, 41-17, for their third win in a row and all looked well for America’s favorite hillbilly team. Why oh why then did the 86-year old Budman suddenly feel the need to rise from his suite box seat and issue the visiting Bills the universally unpleasant one-finger salute goodbye, serially, and with both hands?

NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell just happened to be present in Nashville for the game and had spent most of his time on Sunday watching it with Adams from his private suite box on the upper level of the stadium. Goodell had left Adams in the 4th quarter to smooze a little time away with fans before game’s end. He did not see the actual salute performance, but he sure got a load of the images made available to him later from some fan in the lower deck’s cell phone camera.

As a result of all these circumstances, Commissioner Goodell quickly levied a fine upon Titans owner Bud Adams of $250,000. Wow! That works out to a quarter million dollars, or, breaking it down, $125,000 a finger! The fine also derived an apology from Adams to everyone in the conceivably offended universe as he waxed away also on the notion that his actions were among those that never should have happened in the first place.

Gee whiz! You think so, Bud? ‘Cause if you do, that’s a monumental piece of insight all onto itself! It never should have happened in the first place, but what the heck. You’re only 86 years old, going on 87. You’ve got plenty of time to reckon with the basic questions that face us all on the spiritual plane. May as well get cranked with anger and spite in the meanwhile and either curse or one-finger salute someone else’s football team for losing to or beating up on your own club while there’s still plenty of time to waste.

The one-finger salute is a lot like drinking too much. In fact, those two human events often go hand-in-hand down the aisle of violent promise. They are things some people do to punctuate both the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat in the face of some identified enemy. Even though they seem to be very different actions, one arising from celebration and the other emanating from consternation, they are really the same thing – and they each are expressions of violence. One salute says “take this for what I did to you” and the other says “take this for what you did to me.” Both are put forth like bulletin board material to further inspire the anger and desire for revenge that will dominate our next meeting on the field of battle or play.

Sometimes the one-finger salute comes in the form of a few more muscles being put into play then the few it takes to raise the big digit on either hand. Bud Adams knows about that kind of salute too. Back in the mid-1990s, when the city refused to finance Adams’ plan for a new stadium downtown to house his Houston Oilers, Bud gave us all a much more painful version of the one-finger salute. He took his NFL team out of Houston and turned them into the Tennessee Titans.

Keep that in mind when the Titans come to town next Monday night to play our Houston Texans, folks. – It’s time to salute Bud and the boys again.

"When you're smilin' - when you're smilin' - the whole world smiles at you!"

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