Last Wednesday, my dad and I flew in to Phoenix for Spring Training.  It was our second year in a row of watching baseball that doesn’t matter in the Valley of the Sun, and this year’s trip was even better than the last.  Of course, the outcomes of the games don’t mean anything. The players we know only play four or five innings a game (if at all) and the mid-day heat of the Arizona can bother even the most ardent of fans. But none of that is important to us as we spend a few days in the sun enjoying not only the game we love, but also the return of spring and the hope of another Rockies playoff run—all of that adding up to what my brother Sean (himself not even a baseball fan) appropriately calls “The Baseball Feeling”.

The trip started with a visit to the Rangers’ facility in Surprise.  Although driving in stop-and-go traffic up dreaded Grand Avenue was an ordeal, the Rockies won a wild and wacky game over the defending AL champions, 11-10.  Among the unsurprising portions of the game were a towering blast by a minor-leaguer off of former Rockies closer Franklin Morales, a wild Rockies comeback in the late innings, and not one but two instances of poor baserunning by Eric Young Jr., one of the fastest but also one of the poorest baserunners in the game.  With the winning run at the plate in the ninth, the Rangers hit into a game-ending line-drive double play to seal a bizarre win for the Rockies.

After some poor directions from the locals and the resulting hour-long drive, we checked in to the luxurious $65-a-night Red Roof Inn right off I-10.  Game two was the next day at Phoenix Municipal Stadium, home of the Oakland A’s.  The stadium was easily the worst we’d visited in our history of Spring Training baseball (aside from Tucson’s Hi Corbett Field, which we visited some fifteen years ago), but the game did not disappoint.  Our seats were in the left field corner—a very unfriendly spot if one has trouble with neck pain, but we were seated right next to the Cubs bullpen, which included among others, Jeff Samardzija, Sean Marshall and a much-maligned Kerry Wood.  A well-played game for six innings until the major leaguers departed, the game deteriorated afterward but was still not short on excitement, ending fittingly with Marshall surrendering a walk-off double to send the home fans happy after a 6-5 game.

The nightcap took us to Peoria Sports Complex, but not before a stop at Famous Dave’s Barbecue, where a couple of drunks gave us some good-natured abuse as we proudly sported the red and white of my hometown Nationals, their spring training camp some 2,500 miles away.  After a hot link, a brisket sandwich and a two-dollar Miller Lite draft, we were off to the ballpark for Padres-Rangers.

It has been said that you can go to a baseball game and see something you’ve never (or rarely) seen before.  This happened twice in Peoria that night.  In the third inning, a Padres hitter reached on, of all things, catcher’s interference by Rangers catcher Taylor Teagarden, whom we’d seen in person several years earlier at the College World Series.  The other oddity was a more unfortunate one.  The Padres built a 15-1 lead by the fifth inning with the help of five Ranger errors and a boatload of walks, and so we did the unthinkable (for us) and left the pathetic game an inning early in favor of soothing our sunburns with air-conditioning and our thirsts with a two-liter of coke.

Friday afternoon led us to Salt River Fields at Talking Stick, the brand-new Spring Training home of the Diamondbacks and Rockies.  By far the most impressive facility in the Cactus League, the ballpark seated over 12,000 and drew that many with ease.  The game itself was excellent.  Not only did we watch Rockies cornerstones Carlos Gonzalez and Troy Tulowitzki in action, but we saw Ryan Braun, also for the first time since our visit to the College World Series.  Prince Fielder also treated us to a monstrous bomb off of unfortunate fifth-starter hopeful Greg Reynolds, but at the end it was the Rockies who came out on top, 9-7.

But after the game was when the fun really started.  Former Grinnell College Pioneer ace Sam Eaton took us on a tour of the D-backs’ facility, showing us all six fields, including one that mirrored the exact dimensions of Chase Field, plus the weight room, executive offices (to go along with Sam’s executive cubicle next to longtime MLB executive Roland Hemond), and even the bunting field.  Yes—at Salt River Fields there is even a separate field for bunting.

After the tour, and a quick bite to eat at a pizza joint south of the bar, Sam and I took off for dinner and drinks with Diamondbacks Assistant Director of Player Development Quinton McCracken, a former major leaguer but best known to my dad and me as a member of the 1995 Pacific Coast League Champion Colorado Springs Sky Sox.  It was truly a privilege to meet Quinton, or “Q” as he is called around the office, as he humored (even delighted) me with stories of his teammates on the Triple-A squad that I had seen for fifty games in that magical season.  Those fifty included two playoff games on the road at Hi Corbett Field, and the final game of the postseason, won after Jim Tatum’s bloop single scored Ced Landrum in the bottom of the ninth to defeat the Salt Lake Buzz.  A true gentleman, Q was everything I’d hoped he would be, obviously a great baseball mind but also a student of the game–someone I’d love to have sitting just steps away from me at the office.

After Q paid our entire tab and left to go home to his family, Sam and I enjoyed a few beers and reminisced about the good old days in Pioneertown.  We also discussed what a dump the bar next to his apartment we were patronizing was, but that was neither here nor there.  At the end of the night, I crashed on Sam’s love seat, the blanket barely covering my worn-out body as my feet dangled haphazardly off the side, reminding me of some of my favorite nights on campus.

Sam and I said our goodbyes the next morning, though I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.  After an hour of watching the Rockies’ minor leaguers take BP and go through other drills, the final day of our trip brought us to Camelback Ranch, home of the White Sox and Dodgers.  The game eventually ended in a 6-6 tie and featured a couple of great plays at the plate.  However, the most notable moment of the game may have come in the bottom of the tenth.  With one out and nobody on, a minor-league pitcher was taking forever with his pitches, and it finally prompted a visit from the catcher.  On the next pitch, Jay Gibbons hit a 410-foot flyout to center field.  No one will ever know what words were exchanged on that mound at that moment in time, but we speculated that they may have been something along the lines of, “I’m hungry.  Groove one, and let’s get out of here.”

After a postgame meal at PF Chang’s, the best I’d had in weeks (and a few tense moments of what my dad called “psychotic parking lot behavior”–another story for another time), we headed back to the Roof for some sleep and, yes, a little NCAA basketball in spite of ourselves.

The next morning brought an end to our trip and a return to life as we know it, though I will be taking bright red sunburns on both knees, both arms and my neck home with me, to go along with my new D-backs polo from Sam.  Opening Day is just a week away, but there is something about the magic of Spring Training that can never be duplicated.  There is a reason that fans pay no attention to preseason basketball and view preseason football as an annoyance, but yet are willing to fly thousands of miles to watch Spring Training baseball games.  This is a time for hope, a time for excitement, and for this fan at least, time to trade in that winter knit hat for a Colorado Rockies stars-and-stripes Fifty-Nine-Fifty baseball cap.

So call it spring fever.  Call it the end of the Winter Blues.  Or just call it The Baseball Feeling.  But baseball has arrived.

Let the season begin.

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• What’s an installment of Prospect Buzz without a little Bryce Harper speculation? After speaking with Nationals’ Manager Jim Riggleman on Friday morning, John Heyman tweeted that Bryce Harper could reach the big leagues in 2011 if he were to dominate “at every level.” Although I still doubt that it will actually happen, the fact that Riggleman, and presumably Mike Rizzo, have entertained the idea is exciting.  Jeff Sullivan over at SBNation contemplates the type of numbers Harper must put up at each stop to make his debut in 2011, and believes they might have to be similar to Ken Griffey, Jr.’s during his brief, minor league career. At least we know that he’ll be documenting his entire ascent to stardom…

• Apparently Carlos Santana will take some reps at first base during Spring Training, and undoubtedly increase his fantasy value with each one.  After sustaining a gruesome, season-ending knee injury in 2010, Santana is finally healthy…and the Tribe obviously wants to keep it that way.  With the possibility of playing first base, he becomes an even more intriguing fantasy option behind the plate; he might be able to avoid further knee or leg injuries and will likely play more games than originally anticipated.

• Amidst the absurdity that is the NBA All-Star Weekend, ESPN actually did a respectable job tracking Garrett Wittels’ at bats during Florida International University’s opening night game.  Wittels, who entered the season with a 56-game hit streak, came up empty on Friday night in four at bats against Southeastern Louisiana.  He came close to picking up a knock in his final at bat, ripping a hard grounder that was corralled by a diving SE Louisiana third baseman and taken to the bag for a force out.  Of course ESPN had to compare Wittels’ stats with Joe DiMaggio’s during their respective 56-game hit streaks, which makes me already regret complimenting their coverage.  I’m happy that his streak ended, primarily because Robin Ventura’s (my favorite all-time player) record of 58-games will stand for a long, long time.

• With Jeremy Hellickson expected to round out the Tampa Bay Rays starting rotation, Joe Maddon recently stated that Jake McGee would vie for a spot in the team’s bullpen.  After starting for his entire minor league career, McGee made a late-season transition to the bullpen at Triple-A Durham, and was subsequently called up in September.  The 6-foot-3 left-hander posted a 1.80 ERA with six strikeouts in his five appearances with the Rays, and showcased a mid-90s fastball and hard slider.  Even though he’s primarily worked as a starter, McGee still averaged more than 10 strikeouts and less than one home run per nine innings, both of which lead me to believe that he may have some success in the back end of Rays’ bullpen.

• That Ball’s Outta Here takes a look at the Phillies’ decision to DFA Andrew Carpenter and replace him with Brian Schlitter on the 40-man roster.  Schlitter, who was drafted by Phillies in the 16^th round of the 2007 draft, posted a 12.38 ERA in eight innings of work out of the Cubs’ bullpen in 2010.  I actually played in the same high school conference as Schlitter, and even played on his team a few times during some summer showcases.  He was a high-80s guy his senior year, but nothing overly impressive.  I had completely forgotten about the guy until I saw his name in a Cubs’ box score last year, which naturally provoked sheer disbelief and a “no f’in way!”

• The prospect lists just keep on coming, and really never get old.  The latest is Baseball America’s Top 100 Prospects, and without spoiling too much, here is their top 10: 1. Bryce Harper 2. Mike Trout 3. Jesus Montero 4. Dominic Brown 5. Julio Teheran 6. Jeremy Hellickson 7. Aroldis Chapman 8. Eric Hosmer 9. Mike Moustakas 10. Wil Myers … Overall, there are nine – yes, nine! – Royals’ prospects in the Top 100, a new record.  For those following our Top 50 countdown, we are edging closer to unveiling our Top 10, and after seeing Baseball America’s choices, I think we did well with our first prospect-ranking endeavor.

• While you’re at it, be sure to check out Splashing Pumpkins’ list of the Top 10 San Francisco Giants’ prospects, as well as Kings of Kauffman’s countdown of the Top 25 prospects within the Royals’ organization. If I could find a place willing to take my bet, I would put early money on the Royals’ system housing the Minor League Player (or Pitcher) of the Year.

Prospect Buzz is the new, prospect-related link drop of The Golden Sombrero. As you may already know, we love prospects here at the Sombrero.  So if you have an article or link that you would like us consider for this segment, feel free to either email us or send it our way on Twitter.

• Delino DeShields, Jr. was charged with a DUI last week after he was stopped by police in Georgia.  The 18-year old center fielder was the Houston Astros’ first-round pick – eighth overall – in the 2010 draft, and is the son former Major Leaguer, Delino DeShields (a name that is an essential for the baseball name game).  Somewhere Matt Bush is laughing his ass off right now…

• The Kansas City Royals announced that they will move their prized catching prospect, Wil Myers, to the outfield.  Regarded as one of the top prospects in all of baseball – and a pre-season candidate for Minor League Player of the Year – Myers bat can play at any position.  As we all know, catching can be lead to any number of injuries.  Therefore the Royals decision is an investment in the 21-year old Myers, and more than likely means that his arrival in the Big Leagues will come sooner than expected.

• Over the last several weeks MLB.com’s Jonathan Mayo has gradually revealed his Top 10 prospect lists for each position.  Considering that we have also been publishing our own Top 50 prospects list, I thought that I would post the links to his RHP and LHP lists in case anyone might be interested.

• Our friends over at Off Base Percentage express their disappointment over this past weekend’s Mike Napoli and Juan Rivera for Vernon Wells trade.  Considering that the Angels are still paying Gary Matthews, Jr., I really can’t believe that they are once again shelling out the big bucks for an aging outfielder.  Off Base says it best, “The Mike Trout era can’t get here fast enough.” And we agree.

Around The League is a series that highlights some of the web’s best articles and writers.  Have an article that you would like us to consider?  Be sure to either email us or send it our way on Twitter.

Early in the year I began writing pieces about my city’s spectacular baseball field, Ricketts Park.  As the start of August runs near, the FABC Connie Mack League embarks on a journey.  This journey leads to the holy grail of Amateur baseball, the one and only Ricketts Park.  As the local teams of the Farmington league do battle, every last one of them has one common one thought in their brain; “If we win this thing, I get to be in the Connie Mack World Series!”  I write this piece with a special piece of my heart, for I grew up and still reside in Farmington, NM.  I grew up watching first round draft picks play on the field that I hoped to one day play on myself.  As a 17 year old I lost in the championship round after throwing a complete game 1 hitter (that can still be argued today as a no-hitter) and lost.  As an 18 year old, I was beat on Championship Night by Mike Dunn, who just recently got called back to the show by the Braves.  Last year he even won a ring with the Yankees.  Not a bad guy to lose to at 18 years old.  Then, last year, fellow writer Barfy and I lost on championship night; as coaches.  I was actually picked up my 18 year old summer by Barfy’s team, the Sky Sox.  But I digress.  There will be time for a trip down memory lane later.

Growing up in Farmington means spending years as a youngin’ in the game, sitting in the stadium bleachers watching the greats play.  Greats are the other teams that come here for the week.  By greats, I mean one of the greatest ever played the exact same centerfield grass that I played in years later.  That’s right, Ken Griffey Jr. roamed that outfield at as a 15 year old kid, for the Midland Redskins, before he became The Kid we would all fall head over heels in love with.

As a young kid I dreamed of playing in the Series.  I remember when I was 12 and got my first real baseball glove, the famous Rawlings Griffey trapeze model in 12”, and it was described to me as being “the exact same glove as the ones the guys use in the Connie Mack World Series.”  It was everything to me, to be in this CMWS thing.  As I grew older, I began to see the tournament in a new light.  Turns out, not just any old ball player is in this tournament.  Every single one of those guys is playing college in baseball, I tell myself.

Every year, after AABC leagues across America and Puerto Rico have finished finding winners from different, predetermined regional areas, the 10 teams left standing convene on little, old, oil and gas town, Farmington, New Mexico for one week of the summer in August.  This year’s dates are Aug.6- 13^th.  The Connie Mack World Series is the greatest thing that this town (Farmington) has to offer.  It has helped the city turn a baseball field into a baseball stadium that rivals any high school field in the nation.  Some places have their county fair to help mark the end of summer.  In Farmington, we have the Connie Mack World Series.

The weeklong extravaganza hits the ground running as the first teams begin to arrive from their various destinations at the Farmington Civic Center for sign-ins.  Before they enter the building they are given a private viewing of the local high school dance talent.  Those boys eat it up.  After that show is over the ballplayers find themselves inside the actual Civic Center.  Many different things are going on inside.  This includes filling out proper paperwork and signing in, or maybe an interview with a local reporter coving your first game, and finally, meeting your new host family for the first time.  There are also booths set up and each booth is selling memorabilia with your team logo.  It’s a trip.  It really is the first time, as a baseball player, a kid feels like they have made it in their sport.  This is the exact feeling upon arriving at the Civic Center (via police escort by the way) and seeing all of this going on.  Once inside, the players and coaches are ushered in to the auditorium for their pre-tournament meeting with all the heads of AABC and FABC.  They talk about rules.  They talk about how you are not to be throwing baseball games for anybody.  I know it seems a bit drastic, but they really want you to understand how big of an event this actually is.  They even have to talk to us about not talking to agents or accepting any gifts from people besides our host families.  Because of the level of talent that is in this one tournament, people are on high alert for anything.  The whole charade is over in 15 minutes, max.  The whole time they talk to you, the championship trophy is sitting on a table in front of them.  With your eyes finally getting to see the prize, players then head out and head home with their respective host families.

All night games are sellout crowds.  I’m not talking hundreds either.  We are talking a few thousand fans, sitting in a stadium setting around this ball field.  They are especially packed for the opening game of the home-town Host team.  The support gives you the idea that you are not just playing for your team anymore.  It is the first time that the team actually have fans who are paying to see them.  Yet just another new level of respect a player reaches, and receives, during the greatest week of a Farmington summer.  If you play great in the CMWS, you our considered top notch talent.  I refuse to name drop anymore than I have already and will only say that many of the guys you see during this event reach The Show and have a meaningful impact.

Plain and simple, the week of the CMWS is tits.  You play national, top level, talent in front of thousands.  If you are from Farmington, it means more than that.  It means you have to now represent an entire city.  People are paying money to watch you, and have never met you.  It’s a beautiful thing.  Amateur baseball at its finest and Farmington pulls it off year in and year out.  So if you ever get a chance to swing through little, old, Farmington, make sure you check out the city’s gift to baseball.  The one.  The only.  Ricketts Park.

Today, the Midsummer Classic has grown to include such other cash-generating spectacles as the Sirius XM All-Star Futures Game, the Taco Bell All-Star Legends and Celebrity Softball Game, Gatorade Workout Day and the State Farm Home Run Derby, among various other corporately branded proceedings. The five day celebration concludes with what is supposed to be the exhibition of baseball’s greatest current talents, the All-Star Game itself. The only problem is that Major League Baseball has tried to turn what was once a relaxed, fun-filled atmosphere for players and fans alike into a crucial must-win match-up by granting the winning league home-field advantage in the World Series. This dubious decision was made by Commissioner Bud Selig following his almost equally inexplicable judgment to end the 2002 All-Star Game in a tie following eleven innings of paired play.

Continue Reading “C’Mon Bud, Let’s Bring the Fun Back to the All-Star Game”

However, that was then.

Now, the home run derby is an embarrassing, lesser version of what it once was, featuring out-dated commentators and shitty, intolerable music that can be heard three states over.  It has become an overly publicized, commercial event that fails to recognize and compliment the most impressive players in baseball.  What happened to the days where guys like Ken Griffey, Jr., Frank Thomas, Juan Gonzalez and Jim Thome battled each other, round by round, while creating an electrifying environment within the given park?  I’d prefer a derby featuring juicers like McGwire and Sosa than the anticlimactic atmosphere that I had to sit through last night.  I thought that baseball’s all-star game and home run derby actually reflected the best players in baseball?  It seems as though the derby has now become an event much like the Pro-Bowl, where the players would rather protect their bodies and swings than participate in an elite event that was once a highlight of the MLB season.  It’s a running joke.

If the MLB really wants to create an exciting derby and All-Star game, they need to eliminate the fan voting, which continues to favor players in major markets as well as those in the central and eastern time zones.  Similarly, fan voting has traditionally favored the longevity of a player’s career, as opposed to what a younger player might be doing in the now. Considering that only those elected to the actual game can participate in the derby, isn’t the MLB putting itself at a disadvantage by opting to use this process?

If they wanted to have a legitimate home run derby, doesn’t it make more sense to use fan voting for that?  Perhaps they could even take the four hitters from each league, who possess the longest average home run, and pit them against each other?  It would be a great opportunity for the guys who can pulverize a baseball, but aren’t necessarily all-star caliber players, to receive some recognition and participate in the festivities.  Who wouldn’t want to see Russell Branyan, or Garrett Jones, or Justin Upton, or Jim Thome, or Mark Reynolds, or Carlos Quentin repeatedly hit tape measure bombs?

However, I can’t place all of the blame on Major League Baseball, ESPN did their best to make the presentation of last night’s derby utterly intolerable.  Over the past year, the majority of their most credible baseball analysts and on-air personalities have wisely gravitated to the MLB Network, and the Baseball Tonight crew has become comparable to Vince Vaughan’s second-rate news crew in Anchorman.  I guess that it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that we had Chris Berman, Joe Morgan and Bobby Valentine covering the derby last.

Seriously, ESPN?  Chris Berman, Joe Morgan and Bobby Valentine? As Hawk Harrelson would say, “Mercy!”

Berman was irritating and irrelevant when I was growing up, and I don’t even have the words to describe how I feel about him now.  He’s not a legitimate analyst; he’s just an obnoxious presence at all times.  He’s like Glenn Beck: an entertainer pretending to be an educator.  Despite his status as a baseball legend, Joe Morgan is a fucking dinosaur and has clearly become totally disconnected from modern baseball.  He cannot follow the speed of a conversation and has therefore been reduced to a series of antiquated expressions and personal anecdotes.  I’ll spare Bobby V here just because him sneaking back into the dugout after being ejected, sporting a fake mustache and shades is hilarious.  The best part of their 2½ hours on the air was when Will Ferrell stopped by and provided some comedic relief for a few minutes.  Still, it even seemed like those guys managed to make him feel uncomfortable.

As if the constant blabbering of Berman, Morgan and Valentine wasn’t bad enough, those of us who tuned in were treated to the stadium’s background music, which I would honestly describe as the worst shit that I have ever heard.  Call it euro-trance, club music, reggaeton, call it whatever you want.  It sucked and was honestly the most irritating aspect of the entire derby.  It’s bad news when you are eagerly anticipating a four-minute, Joe Morgan story.  I would have rather listened to an entire set by Train than sit through last night’s musical selections.  I would have even preferred the sound of 50,000 vuvuzelas to all of that crap that was played last night.

Oh, and worst of all, we had to sit through the 2½ hours of lackluster performances, brutal music, bumbling commentary, and extensive delays just to see David Ortiz prevail.

Will the state of the derby change by next year, or will it only be worse? Who knows?  All I know is that I will utilize the mute button for 2011 Home Run Derby.

Ken Griffey, Jr.

May 7, 1990

Jeff Francoeur

August 29, 2005

“Can anyone be this good?”

Really? Pretend for a second that you did believe that Francoeur was the next star, is it in any way logical, or professional for that matter, to compare him to “the Kid”? I would have figured(hoped) that Junior’s relentless career set a new precedent for such recognitions and labels.  But hey, what do I know? I’m only realistic.