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Posts belonging to Category Griffin Phelps



Big Ups to the Kid: A Tribute to the Real Life Natural

As many of you may know, a colossus of baseball has retired recently.  It was a first for me.  It was the first time in my life that I had witnessed the retirement of not only my all-time favorite baseball player, but my boyhood idol.  Griffey did more for me than most fans.  He not only seduced me with his effortless swing, like he did millions of others, he taught me how to play baseball.  He was a perfect combination of natural born talent, charisma, effort (I’m talking to you Hanley), and youthful vigor, all rolled into the one and only live action Roy Hobbs action figure.  His game had the grace of an antelope fused with the spirit of a 10 year old kid.  If Michelangelo were to paint the roof in the House That Ruth Built, Ken Griffey Jr. highlight reel catches and home runs would fill it from corner to corner.

If Bo knew, The Kid did.  Anybody out there remember how sad they were when Griffey’s season was ruined by having to receive a plate and multiple screws to repair a broken wrist after making a diving/jumping combo catch into the wall?  Complete disregard for his body, all in the name of wanting to make the coolest play a 14 year old could think of.  As a young, fellow south-paw, and eerily similar named kid who loved baseball, I used to mimic his every move between on the diamond.  Shit, at one point I actually learned how to do the Griffey homer hand shake during the ’93 season.  I rocked the backwards hat.  Left-handed swing? check.  And you can bet the barn that I smiled as much, if not more than he did too.  Oh, and that smile. That infectious smile.  Anytime you saw a Griffey highlight you saw that picture perfect smile that was a leftover from his devilish deeds of thievery in the outfield.  This smile is how you knew he was still just a little kid leaving a dream.  He was fortunate enough to have gifts, so gifts are what he gave back.

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Slipping Under the Radar

June 3, 2010

June 1st is a big date in the Fantasy Baseball World.  As TMR alluded to in his article on ESPN.com earlier, it marks the opening of trade season.  It is also about the time that you begin to have substantial enough data sets to start forming a solid opinion as to what kind of fantasy impact a player might have for your team.  It is around this time that I really like to go find one or two guys for my team to replace that early season bust.  On that note here are three guys who are available and worth more than just a look in most leagues and definitely in deeper or NL/AL only leagues.

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Ricketts Park: A True Diamond in the Rough (Part I)

April 25, 2010

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My first full season as a high school baseball coach has finally come to an end.  For the grand finale, we were able to hook the C-teamers up with a dream come true…playing at Ricketts Park.  They got the whole deal, including pre-game batting practice on the field.  Watching the grins roll across those 8th and 9th graders faces reminded me just how special Ricketts is.  I couldn’t help but smile too, seeing as how this was my first time coaching on Ricketts as a Scorpion.  It is that unforgettable feeling, that you can only get when you play baseball on Ricketts, which is acting as the inspiration for this piece.
Growing up in Farmington, New Mexico has allowed me to enjoy one of the greatest treasures that baseball has to offer, Ricketts Park.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with Farmington, or Ricketts, let me tell you about this ball field.  It is a spectacular yard.  Its dimensions are 330’ down the lines, 370’ to the gaps, and 400’ to dead center.  The wall is approximately 20’ tall, give or take a few feet.  The outfield walls are covered with two rows of signs advertising for local businesses.  Surrounding this field is a stadium setting, similar to a spring training or minor league yard.  The seats extend from behind home plate, down the lines, but not all the way out to the fence.  Seating is arranged in two tiers.  The lower tier has actual stadium seating, while the upper tier is comprised of bleacher seats.  The stadium holds over 6,100 people at full capacity.  If you would like to see larger pictures of this high-desert oasis, please click on each individual photo:

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Ricketts Park holds a special place in a local baseball player’s heart.  As a young child, it is where you can go with your family to watch big kid baseball.  As you age, and enter high school, it becomes your goal to make the varsity squad and play and practice on the field daily.  At age 16, you have your first chance to play in the Connie Mack summer league whose games are played on Ricketts.  And if you win that summer league, you are invited to partake in one of the greatest amateur baseball tournaments this world has to offer…The Connie Mack World Series.  Teams from all corners of the nation come together in Farmington, for one week, and play on Ricketts in front of a packed house until a champion is decided.  It is one of the greatest weeks of the year for me, as well my fellow blogger, Dee.  See, Ricketts means something special to baseball players in Farmington, New Mexico.  Every age group sees something special about the place.  It is a diamond in the rough.  It is THE landmark of the entire city.  Ricketts Park is baseball.

This is simply an introduction.  It is the first in a series of pieces on Ricketts Park, and what it means to a kid who grew up playing baseball in little, old, podunk Farmington, New Mexico.  I feel truly blessed to have this baseball field in my hometown.  Hopefully, piece-by-piece, I will allow you to experience the joys of baseball at Ricketts vicariously.  Hopefully.  One.

Thank You, Baseball: An Epiphany

April 22, 2010

Late one evening, my assistant coach-for both my high school C-Team and my summer league Connie Mack team-his girlfriend, my girlfriend and I were entertaining ourselves with some rather deep conversation about teaching techniques.  By around 12:15 a.m. an epiphany had found its way through to my brain.  We all began discussing different success stories of education, via public high school, baseball coaching, or as a full-time educator in a youth detention center-better known as juvie.  I am a first-time, 9th grade English teacher, 3rd year baseball coach (first time high school), that coaches the Farmington High School C-team in the baseball program.  Jeff Rogers, the aforementioned assistant (the coaching variety, not upper echelon society) is a rookie in the coaching department and has a ton of new insight due to virgin eyes, so to speak.  My girlfriend, Jenna, is an educator inside the Farmington Youth Detention Center and has insight into teaching from a point of view that deals with some of the most unfortunate minds that America has to offer.  To be short, we are a group of educators that cover the gamut of educational opportunities.  During this conversation I found that every story had a common denominator; they all dealt in small group scenarios, where the learners felt that they were learning something that was uniquely new to their group and not to any other group of the population.  They felt that they were the new holders of knowledge.  Specialized learning is common place, even to the first year teacher.  How does that carry over to baseball?

By creating an environment that feels specialized (read as personal) the learning experience holds deeper within the young mind.  Thus, the educator must create small group areas in order to promote proper learning.  I have personally seen the production of teaching multiple techniques/practices, to particular groups of 3-4 players/practice and have found the turnouts to be just short of extraordinary.  For instance, with my six 8th graders ,I have two who are above the rest.  I am able to group them with a couple of the lowest freshmen, and teach one principle for a round of BP.  For another group of my most superior players, I am able to teach a much more sophisticated approach to what hitting is and means.  There are about 2 more distinct groups of players, such as speed guys and pitchers, that I end up being able to talk about my true passion in 4 different ways each and every practice; five ways if you count the average kids in the middle, right on track.  This is simply amazing.

I now have, maybe, the truest experience of baseball one could imagine.  I am able to focus the majority of my skills and prior practiced/played experiences on my one true passion in life (except for my previously mention girlfriend Jenna.  She’ll never be #2); baseball.  The pleasure brought forth, through realization of this, has made my most recent 45 minutes post-enlightenment, pure bliss.  I feel like I am living a dream, fuck the cliché.  It is this joyous, slightly extravagant, excitement that makes me thank baseball for my life.  It has lead me down a road that I am forever thankful for finding.  Baseball has taken all over the place.  New Mexico. Arizona.  California.  Colorado.  Wyoming.  New York.  Omaha, Nebraska.  Texas.  Missouri.  Simply put, it’s provided me with the chance to experience an eclectic environment and way of life (especially baseball life) that is unique.

It is unique in the same way that the teaching is unique.  From the immaculate artist, locked away, to the 8th grader who has never had proper coaching, to the kid who asks to ignore The Odyssey for a day, and find out how to eliminate the national debt.  Sure they are once in a blue moon, both the class discussion with freshmen and truly gifted baseball players, but that is the beauty of it.  It provides multiple opportunities to discuss some personal interests.  A personal investment is the most efficient fuel towards true education.  I feel lucky to have had baseball in my life.  Thank you baseball.  Thank you for leading me to where I have landed.  I am the happiest man I could be.  And all along the way, you have helped me discover a better way of educating.  Two passions for the price of one.  (Hey, I had to bring it all around full circle somehow.)  One.

Why It Sucks To Be An Astros’ Fan

April 12, 2010

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As an avid, lifelong, true Astros fan, I have experienced bliss as well as turmoil.  It was only 5 years ago that the ‘Stros found themselves in the World Series.  Yet there is now a putrid taste in my mouth when I think of my beloved big league club.  How could this be?  What went so wrong that only 5 years removed from winning the NL pennant, Houston is now ranked as one of the worst organizations in professional baseball?
For starters, we can look at a couple declining stars.  While it hurts me to even utter these words (let alone type and post them for all to see) Lance Berkman and Carlos Lee are finally on the downhill track of their careers.  The Puma is always a health concern, even managing to find himself on the DL before the 2010 season even started.  2009 was the first season that Fat Elvis fell short of the 600 PA plateau since 2005, and only the 3rd time since he became an everyday player.  Secondly, his WAR, according to FanGraphs, tied a career low at 3.2 (as compared to previous years in the 6’s.)  While his BB rate increased last year from 14 to 17%, his K rate has been on the rise since 2005.  It made a jump from 15.4% in ’05, to 19.8% in ’06, and has continued to hover at, or above, the 20% rate since then.  All of this, along with the fact that Berkman is not getting any younger (he is 34 this year) tells me that we may be seeing the beginning of the end for the Big Puma.

Then there is Carlos Lee.  By most accounts, El Caballero had a tremendous season last year.  There are just a few stats that concern me.  The first being his O-swing%, or percentage of balls swung at outside of the strike zone.  This number stands at a gaudy 36.6% for last year; a whopping 13% above his career average.  The next problem I have is Lee’s isolated power.  Last year C. Lee posted a paltry .186 in this department.  You can chalk some of this up to age, (he turns 34 this June) but when you play in one of the most hitter friendly parks, Minute Maid, it makes you wonder a little. Even if you don’t want to look at the numbers, face the facts that most big leaguers do not have very successful careers once they reach the age of 34-35; including Berkman and Lee.

Well what about the guys we have coming up?  Sure there is Wandy and Pence, and maybe even Bourn will work out. (I am a big Bourn supporter despite what most critics predict.)  Ok, sure those are a few guys who have the possibility to be studs for a while.  But for those few guys, there are the J.R. Towles (a busted stud), Tommy Manzella (a 27 year old “prospect”), of the organization who have not panned out.  Sure, Houston is devoting new time and efforts into finding quality prospects internationally, especially in the D.R., but only time will tell how that works out.  For now, we are stuck with what little we have on the farm.
To top it off, we go and make Brandon Lyon one paid motherfucker at 15 mill for 3 years.  Why give that kind of money to a guy who has only had one season of 15 saves or more, has a career ERA of 4.23 as a reliever, and has never shown dominant stuff on the hill?  I don’t know why, and there may be more to it, as Mclane has shown that all these oddball signings come off the book at the same time in a few years.  But until then, we will have to settle with that putrid taste, and have to do enough other things during the summer to help reduce the strength of that taste.  One.