MO’ MINNIE MINOSO

Last week I wrote to Tom Verducci, Sports Illustrated’s top baseball man, and asked what he made of the curious case of Minnie Minoso. Here is his response:

I grew up when Minoso was doing his play-in-a-fifth decade thing as a lark, so I admit I never took him seriously enough. While on the Vets screening committee, though, the more research I did on him the more I appreciated his career. Great player. I don’t know why the previous Vets committee didn’t look at him more. I’m pretty sure he’s one of the five best players on that Vets list. Whether he gets in or not, though, is another matter. I really don’t know what to expect out of that vote. It all depends on whether the living Famers use all 10 spots on their ballot or just pick one or two. Tom

I searched around the net for the skinny on Minoso and found several articles of note.

The Baseball Library has a good overview of Minnie’s career, complete with important dates, and career achievements. The Black World Today offers a look at Minoso as a Latin pioneer, Andy Trenkle makes a case for his selection to the Hall of Fame, and Jules Rothstein writes about what an all-around mench he is.

Finally, here is a tidbit from Sam Plummer, a long-suffering Cubs fan, and close family friend, who I’ve known since before I knew how to walk. I saw Sam over Christmas and mentioned my interest in Minoso. He started singing what I mistakenly remembered as a piece of classical music, only he replaced the lyrics with the names of the Go-Go White Sox from the 1950’s. I was set straight in an e-mail I recieved from Sam this afternoon:

It’s not classical music, it’s a Christmas carol, and the initial effect depends on the similarity of “Orestes” to “Adeste”, then on the resemblance of Spanish names to Latin words. Later you sort of bellow “Sherman Lollar” before sort of chanting “Paul Richards, Nelson Fox….”
Adeste, fideles,
Laeti triumphantes,
Venite, venite ad Bethlehem.
Natum videte, regem angelorum;
Venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus dominum.
Or in English:
O come, all ye faithful,
Joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem.
Come and behold Him, born the King of angels;
O come, let us adore him,
O come, let us adore him,
O come, let us adore him, Christ the Lord.
Now then:
Orestes Minoso,
Chico Carrasquel,
Saul Rogovin, Billy Pierce, and Omar Lown.
Sherman Lollar, Luis Aparicio,
Paul Richards, Nelson Fox,
Paul Richards, Nelson Fox,
Paul Richards, Nelson Fox, and Early Wynn.

BOSTON BANTER

While the Yankees will have a busy even challenging year with the additional media attention Hideki Matsui brings with him from Japan, the Red Sox are second to nobody when it comes to media frenzy. In fact, although the Sox are comprised mainly of reserved stars like Nomar Garciaparra (who felt the heat late last summer in the local papers), and Manny (puff-puff-pass) Ramirez, not to mention stand-up-guys like Trot Nixon, Derek Lowe and Jason Varitek, they have shown more signs of being like the old Bronx Zoo over the past few seasons than their counterparts in New York.

Superduperstar pitcher Pedro Martinez, never one to keep his feelings to himself, started the ball rolling last week.
About the only thing that is diminutive about Martinez is his body. Pedro’s talent, and his mouth will never be mistaken for being small. Prince P ripped his club in an interview with El Diario from his home in the Dominican. Bill Burt from the Eagle Tribune offered a translation:

On his contract status with the Red Sox:

“If the Red Sox don’t sign me to a contract before the end of spring training, I will become a free agent … They’ve had a lot of time. After (spring training), I will not sign a contract with the Red Sox.”

Translation for the Red Sox: “I know that you know that I know there’s a team option in there that means I can’t go anywhere until 2005, but I like scaring my fans for their support.”

On watching pitcher Bartolo Colon go to the White Sox instead of Boston: “I don’t like that. I wanted him in Boston. If we want to win, we need another big-time pitcher and Bartolo would have given us the push we need.”

Translation for Red Sox: “Fossum can’t carry Colon’s jockstrap.”

On losing Ugueth Urbina to free agency:

“We need a closer. Derek Lowe needs a closer. We both trusted in Urbina and I can’t trust someone else to do the job in the future … Urbina was the right man for the job.”

Translation for Red Sox: “This closer-by-committee stuff is for the birds. Get a closer, now!”

The Dominican press also reported that Pedro has fired his agent and will do his own negotiating.

“I was very uncomfortable with the way they handled my business so I have fired them,” said Pedro, whose old agent’s firm was bought by another sports marketing company. “They didn’t tell me they were going to sell (the firm) … I am prepared to sit down and negotiate with any team and to sign my next contract.”

Martinez also said, “It is not my intention to be the highest paid player in baseball. I just want to be recognized for what I’ve done in the business.”

Let’s just say, it’s going to be interesting when Pedro arrives in Fort Myers for pitchers and catchers workouts in mid-February. Stay tuned.

MORE ON MILLAR

The saga of Kevin Millar continues to unfold and it now appears highly unlikely that the Red Sox will be able to pry the former Marlins first baseman from Chunichi Dragons. According to Gordon Edes:

The convoluted matter is out of the Red Sox’ hands. Major League Baseball interceded and ruled that the Red Sox could not cut a deal with the Japanese team, which signed the righthanded hitter to a two-year, $6 million contract after purchasing him from the Florida Marlins. The Marlins placed him on major league waivers, a prerequisite to completing the deal, and typically a mere formality. But breaking with protocol, the Sox claimed Millar. When he rejected the claim, he became a free agent. The Sox hoped to compensate Chunichi for the $1.2 million they had paid the Marlins, then sign Millar to a Boston contract.

The player enthusiastically embraced that idea, but MLB informed the Red Sox that Millar had to honor his contract with Chunichi. For Millar to play for the Sox under those circumstances, he would have to ”post” for free agency, much like Ichiro Suzuki did before signing with the Seattle Mariners. Teams then would submit sealed bids to Chunichi for the right to negotiate with Millar, giving all clubs the same access to Millar as the Sox, at a price likely to be higher than the Sox are willing to pay.

The only way Millar can circumvent that process is if he can demonstrate that he does not have a valid contract with Chunichi, an avenue his agents were pursuing, according to one source familiar with the proceedings. The Red Sox are not involved in that process.

Ed Cosstte, over at Bambino’s Curse noted:

This doesn’t come as much surprise, really. While I joined in the chorus calling Epstein’s moves to get Millar “shrewd,” in the back of my mind it did sound like some dirty dealing, like they weren’t really treating the Japanese team as a business equal. On the other hand, MLB doesn’t particularly stand out in my mind as a group who puts business ethics high on its list of priorities. The way they’ve managed the Expos since taking over the owner’s role seems pretty shady to me. Indeed, they should begin to tilt the E in Expos to more resemble the crooked E in the Enron logo.

In addition, the Red Sox are close to signing former Twins first baseman David Ortiz, according to the Boston Globe:

Ortiz…passed a physical in Boston Saturday and has agreed to a one-year deal for a sum in the vicinity of $1 million. Ortiz, a lefthanded hitter, batted .272 with 32 doubles, 20 home runs, and 75 RBIs last season for the Twins, numbers comparable to those posted by Daubach. But with Daubach arbitration-eligible, the Sox elected to sign the 27-year-old Ortiz, who was released by the Twins in December.

For more on the Sox, check out Tom Verducci’s analysis of their bullpen-by-committe strategy, and Peter Gammons’ take on Theo Epstein’s rocky winter.

YOU DON’T SEND ME FLOWERS…

Sean McDonough, son of the late Will McDonough wrote a tribute to his father and his supporters, in the Globe over the weekend.

In his Sunday Notes column, Gordon Edes noted:

At the memorial for Globe columnist Will McDonough at the FleetCenter last week, a floral arrangement from Steinbrenner occupied a position of prominence in front of the casket, with another from the Yankees nearby. The Red Sox also sent two arrangements, from Lucchino and Henry, that weren’t positioned quite so near. Leave it to McDonough, who had sharply criticized Lucchino in his [second to] last column, to find a way to make a final editorial comment …

THE GIANT FROM SOUTHIE

I primarily remember Will McDonough working the sidelines for CBS on football Sundays, when I was a kid. Aside from his distinctive Boston accent, pock-marked skin, and goofy ears, he never stood out to me; just another fugly, old guy talking head. But I became a bit more familiar with him over the years, periodically reading his column in the Boston Globe, and recognized his status as one of the top insiders covering the NFL.

Howard Bryant offered a revealing portrait of McDonough, and his relationship with longtime rival at the Globe, Peter Gammons in his informative, yet maddingly uneven book, “Shut Out: A Story of Race and Baseball in Boston:”

The rise and influence of the Boston Globe were illustrated no better than in the rivalry of its two greatest writing stars, Will McDonough and Peter Gammons. Each in his own way reflected the city’s strengths and weaknesses through his copy and approach to the job

For its long-term effects on a city and its signature sports franchise, there would be no more lingering, important story in Boston baseball history than race, and more than any two reporters in the city’s history, Gammons and McDonough would shape the parameters of the discussion. They would do this not only by what they wrote, but also by what they did not. In the truest testament to the power of both, McDonough and Gammons would spawn a generation of reporters that would emulate the two giants in both style and personality.

Both moved the market in their own way. McDonough did not believe the Red Sox were a racist franchise and thus would pay no future penalty for past decisions. He would not cover the story of race and the Red Sox as a story at all, but more as a fabrication created by people intent on damaging the legacy of Tom Yawkey and Joe Cronin, of whom McDonough was especially fond. More than any other reporter in the city, it would be McDonough who would deny the existence of race as a legitimate factor in assessing the club

Will McDonough was different. He was every bit as ambitious as Gammons, and his zeal to be an insider was equal to that of Gammons. No sports department would ever boast a baseball and football writer that were more wired into their subjects than Will McDonough and Peter Gammons. Where the two differed was not so much in the end results, but in their personalities. Class would be a central issue. Not only had Gammons attended the Groton School, on the elite prep schools in the nation, but his father served on the school’s faculty.

McDonough was a tough Irish kid from South Boston. He was from the streets. He was an Irish Catholic in a city where being so was only a benefit because of hard struggle. Being tough mattered, especially being from Southie, where no one gave anyone anything. In fact, it was the opposite. Everyone in Southie saw the anchors of life they coveted being taken away. He attended Northeastern University and joined the Globe in 1959 at the bottom rung, as a copy boy. If Gammons climbed at the Globe from being deigned a star and taking full advantage of a great opportunity by outworking the competition, McDonough saw his own rise through nothing except grit, tireless sourcing, and connections

As a football writer, Will McDonough would grow to be a giant. He knew the game’s power players and like Gammons, was as powerful a player in his coverage of the Patriots and the NFL as there was in the league. McDonough preferred the old school ways, when reporters and their subjects stood much closer. He enjoyed the insider’s position, when the game was simple and a handshake could be trusted. There were no agents, no complications.

McDonough had his quirks. Over the years, McDonough would almost boast of his retentive abilities. He would write whole stories, with quotes, without having taken a single note. He was quick to ally himself with people in power; over the years three would be few journalists, if any, who would call an owner at home as readily and easily as Will McDonough.

He was combative. The most famous instance of his temper came when he grew tired of the media needling from Patriots cornerback Raymond Clayborn in 1977. When their argument heated, Clayborn inadvertently poked McDonough in the eye, and McDonough responded by sending Clayborn to the floor with the right cross. It would be one of the most famous moments in Boston sports journalism, the day a reporter knocked a player on to the canvas. Pugnacity didn’t stop there. McDonough made enemies, and as his position as a reporting giant grew, he was not the person to cross. He could be cruel, using his column to protect his allies and destroy his enemies, no small hammer. To disagree with McDonough was to risk the wrath of a powerful and well-connected reporter who had a column each week that reached hundreds of thousands. Clark Booth marveled at how complete McDonough’s enmity could be. “When he circled the wagons on you, you were finished. I never saw someone who could be so unforgiving of a person. And he was a giant, so you didn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.”

In one sense, Will McDonough and Peter Gammons were alike. In their daily reporting, neither held the Red Sox very accountable in its culture and climate for minority players. Yet like the other areas of their relationship, it was for wholly disparate reasons. Peter Gammons did not seem to own much of a personal or moral passion for the race question, while McDonough simply did not believe that race in Boston was a story at all.

Part of the reason Gammons shied from racial issues, though Glenn Stout, was the same reason the entire Boston journalism community did: He could Boston journalism avoided race issues was [sic] because Boston and its surrounding regions were overwhelmingly white. There was not much clamor for sticky racial issues that, if uncovered, would spoil the fun of following the Red Sox. There was in the 1970s and ’80s enough backlash from busing that it was a risky gambit to harp on the Red Sox and their race record.

But the biggest reason Peter Gammons avoided writing about race was his personality itself. He was an insider, not a moral crusader. Race aside, he would not be the type of reporter—after he became a giant name in the business—to take unpopular stances or choose to dissect complicated, messy issues that deviated from the game’s power structure. He could be brilliant at it, as he was in his underrated 195 book “Beyond the Sixth Game,” a brief but entertaining and informative book on the dramatic way baseball—and the Red Sox in particular—had been affected by the advent of free agency. Gammons also chose to be a baseball insider, and to be a true insider it is unwise to take too many unpopular stances, lest sources view you with unwanted suspicion. There is no question that his journalistic legacy suffered from this choice, but his import and influence in the game rose tenfold

Meanwhile, Will McDonough was not a social engineer, and did not see his position as responsible for cultural accommodation. He tended to view the world in simple, rhetorical terms. Life was what it was. It was not perfect, and you played with the hand life dealt you. His view of race relations was conservative, and like many a Boston Irish Catholic, he still saw himself at times as a hounded minority, although it had been nearly a century since the Irish in Boston won a political and popular majority. He was exasperated by the racial question in Boston, unable to empathize with the notion that it was a difficult, uneven city for blacks. For McDonough, because life was imperfect, you had to adapt to the culture; the culture didn’t adapt to you. Thus, he grew short with social alchemies such as bussing or black players pressing for rights. He preferred players who came to Boston, kept their heads down, and kept their mouths shut. This was especially true of black players, the more vocal ones having traditionally the more trouble in Boston. Once, he received a letter from Mo Vaughn’s father. Vaughn was involved in a bitter contract struggle and McDonough was slamming him mercilessly in his column. “I responded to his letter, father to father,” McDonough said. “And I told him, ‘I’m going to give you some advice for your kid. Tell him to be quiet and play ball. That’s how you do it around here.'” It was a typical McDonough response: unapologetic, pointed, and impolitic.

The result was a conservative, angry voice that was reactionary in the face of a new generation of player, black and Latino, with different cultures and belief systems

McDonough saw race in Boston in clear and linear terms, but he also was looking from the lens of a great and powerful Boston majority, the Irish Catholics. He was part of the in crowd in Boston, the political power brokers in the city. McDonough privately enjoyed that a Southie kid like himself could himself [sic] become a power player in the city. William Bulger, a Southie son who would rise to be state’s senate president, once hired McDonough as his first campaign manager. He grew impatient with talk of institutional and cultural racism, the type of insidious belief structures that permeate an entire organization but have no single culprit. To believe that the Red Sox could have developed a racist culture over a half-century, he wanted the guilty unmasked. “Everyone keeps talking about the Red Sox being a racist ball club. Well, who was it? Was it Tom Yawkey? Was it Joe Cronin? Was it Dick O’Connell? Who?” McDonough’s temper was easily inflamed by race, an illustration of impatience with a difficult topic that belied his Boston roots. He wanted the smoking gun. To Will McDonough, if the cross wasn’t burning on the lawn, racism didn’t exist. Bud Collins, who considered himself a longtime admirer of McDonough as a journalist, separated with his old colleague in the area of race. “It was one of the many areas where Will and I disagree,” Collins said. “But it might be the most important.”

“Will McDonough,” though Tom Mulvoy, “is the most elemental guy I know. He always believes he’s right. Nuance isn’t Willie McDonough. He makes his call and that’s it. You’re not going to get philosophical treatise from him.”

Just as a note, my copy of “Shut Out” is an advanced uncorrected proof, which should explain the few grammatical errors.

CURSES

Dan Shaughnessy returned to the baseball beat on Friday with a column evaluating Theo Epstein’s off season thus far. Shaughnessy noted that while the rookie GM has taken the high road as far as the rivalry with the dastardly Bronx Bombers are concerned, some of the Red Sox players feel a bit differently:

”I kind of like it,” said Lou Merloni. ”I see our owners doing everything they can to beat those guys and that’s not a bad thing. Hopefully, the Yankees will get caught up trying to beat us off the field and forget about what really matters. Maybe they’re worried about us. That’s a good thing.”

Johnny Damon added, ”It goes back to 1919. Steinbrenner is willing to win at all costs. They have deeper pockets, but they fear us and that’s why they are making these moves. And the year we win the World Series it’s going to get back at all 26 they’ve won.”

Are they the Evil Empire?

”I wouldn’t say that,” said manager Grady Little. ”The last guy that said that had to hear too much about it.”
Epstein knows there’s growing impatience in the Nation.

”It’s not our job to have our finger on the pulse of exactly what Red Sox fans feel, but I know it’s the nature of fans to want it all and want it now and want big names,” he said. ”But the nature of running a ball club is to take the broad view and put the best team on the field and keep the best interests of the organization.

”We will only make a trade when what we receive is better than what we’re giving up. If you don’t have the discipline, patience, and confidence to walk away, you’re not going to make a good deal (read: Shea Hillenbrand and Casey Fossum was too much for Colon). I remember. I was a fan and the only thing they care about is who’s going to be wearing the uniform. There will be a time when we go above and beyond for a player, but it will be the right player with no questions about it.”

Tough days for the guitar-slinging Boy Wonder. Never outhustled, he’s been outspent and outfoxed by the hated Yankees and his boss has made life tougher by insulting the Boss.

That’s why they call it the blues.”

Ed Cossette, who pens the excellent Bambino’s Curse blog, loved Johnny Damon’s pluck (or nerve or chutzpah), and as a Red Sox fan I suppose it’s nice to hear some of the old fire from a player. As good a player as Damon is—why the Yanks signed Ro White without even making an offer to him last season, I’ll never know—and as soothing, and reassuring as his needling may feel to Red Sox Nation (give him credit for giving the people what they want), didn’t we hear a lot of this kind of tough talk out of him last season?

Red Sox fans love to tweek ever-sensitive Yankee fans (present company included), and Damon is happy to play the part of designated shit talker. Quite frankly, he doesn’t have anything to lose by throwing rocks at the throne; instead he simply enhances his popularity within Red Sox Nation. That’s good for him, but Johnny: come back to me. Talk to us when you’ve won…anything.

SPIDEY SENSE IS TINGLING; POCKETS, JINGLING BABY

The Twins signed their lovable, and huggable center-fielder Torii Hunter to a four-year deal on Friday according to espn.

Torii Hunter and the Minnesota Twins agreed Friday to a $32 million, four-year contract, just days after the All-Star outfielder said he wouldn’t get a multiyear deal.

“Yesterday it happened so fast, I was like, ‘We’re going to get this deal done,”’ Hunter said. “They came to where I felt it was fair for both sides. I commend them for getting there. Thank you!”

“What it’s about is helping my family out,” Hunter said. “At the same time, to be at home with the Minnesota Twins, the team I love, you can’t ask for much more.”

His first big purchase will be a house for his mother, Hunter said.

“My mom’s in a two-bedroom apartment in the ‘hood,” Hunter said. “My brothers, we slept with the rats and the roaches. We all came up together. … That’s what I came here to do: Work hard, play this game hard so I can be able to help my family.”

The good fellas at Twins Geek weighed in on the move, as did Mike over at Baseball Rants.

Last fall, Rob Neyer wrote a sensible column about why it would behoove the Twins to consider moving players like Hunter:

In the outfield, it’s assumed that the Twins need to lock up Torii Hunter with a long-term contract. But do they? Granted, Hunter’s a fine player. But Jacque Jones could shift to center field and the Twins wouldn’t lose a lot defensively, and they’ve got plenty of guys who could then replace Jones in left field.

See, the Twins are loaded with outfielders. They’ve got so many outfielders, they don’t have room for them all. In addition to Hunter and Jones, the Twins also have Bobby Kielty, Dustan Mohr, Michael Cuddyer and Michael Restovich.

You know how the story’s supposed to go. Plucky franchise puts together a solid team, consisting mostly of home-grown players, despite limited budget. Team wins 94 games. Team gets torn apart because of budget woes, and soon sinks back to whence it came. And so Bud Selig was right. Our plucky little franchise was nothing but an aberration.

The players certainly buy into this paradigm. As Pierzynski recently said, “We have to keep this team together. If we do that, hopefully we can make it two steps further next year. Hopefully, Mr. Pohlad will step up to the plate and get it done.”

And if Pohlad doesn’t “step up to the plate”? Right, the Twins plummet right down to third place (or even fourth, if Tigers owner Mike Illitch ever “steps up to the plate”).

But it doesn’t have to work that way. What if a franchise put together a solid roster, consisting mostly of home-grown players, and then continued to develop good players, who replaced the first group of home-grown players as they became more expensive?

Were the Twins moved to sign Hunter, an enormously popular player, after the White Sox traded for Barolo Colon this week? I’m can’t say. But they didn’t over pay him. I don’t know if Hunter will continue to improve as an offensive player, though there is no reason to expect he’ll fall off defensively for several years. Regardless if the deal makes the best baseball sense or not, it’s good to see the Twins fork over the dough for one of the game’s most irresistible, and personable young stars. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.

QUICK TAKES

Terry Pluto writes about the Bartolo Colon trade from Cleveland’s perspective, and Bob Hohler reports how Casey Fossum is one Red Sox who is happy about the deal that kept him in Boston.

Bob Klapisch also filed an article on the Godzilla Matsui press conference for espn.

INCORRIGIBLE YANKS FOIL BOSOX AGAIN; DUQUE TO EXPOS

The Yankees traded El Duque Hernandez to the Expos yesterday, in a three-team trade which featured Bartolo Colon moving to the White Sox. In addition, Expos recieved another pitcher, Rocky Biddle, outfielder Jeff Liefer and cash from theYankees, who in turn picked up right-handed reliever Antonio Osuna, and minor leaguer, Delvis Lantigua. The White Sox also got $2 million from the Yanks.

Most importantly, the Yankees prevented Colon from landing in Boston. Here’s the skinny from the papers in Boston and New York…

The Globe reports:

Call it what you will, Red Sox fans: a crushing defeat, a squandered opportunity, or the natural byproduct of prudent management. In New York, they viewed the three-way deal that sent Bartolo Colon yesterday from the Montreal Expos to the Chicago White Sox as a joyous coincidence.

In the final act of a bargaining drama that dwarfed all others in significance this winter, the Yankees indirectly thwarted Epstein by sending righthander Orlando Hernandez and $2 million to Chicago, which in turn traded Hernandez, righthander Rocky Biddle, outfielder/first baseman Jeff Liefer, and more than $2 million to Montreal for Colon and minor league infielder Jorge Nunez. The Yankees received righthanded setup man Antonio Osuna, minor league pitcher Delvis Lantigua – and the pleasure of depriving the Sox of a star who could have shifted the balance of power in the American League East.

…Epstein ranked among Minaya’s most aggressive suitors, offering him countless proposals involving Sox players before he launched a national search for a third party to complete the deal. Before it was over, Epstein tried to recruit at least 10 teams to help meet Minaya’s often-divergent demands.

”It was close a couple of times,” Minaya said. ”Two days ago, we were trying to find a third player, from a third team. We discussed guys who might have gotten it done, and some would have possibly gotten it done.”

But none did, though Minaya went out of his way to praise Epstein for his persistence and creativity.

…Beyond derailing the Sox in the Colon chase, the Yankees met one of their greatest needs by acquiring Osuna to help fill the void created by the departures of setup men Ramiro Mendoza and Mike Stanton. Osuna appeared in 59 games last season for the White Sox, going 8-2 with 11 saves and a 3.86 ERA. A hard thrower, he struck out 66 in 67 2/3 innings.

Minaya also met his goals, though he may have settled for less than he could have received from the Yankees when they offered Hernandez, first baseman Nick Johnson, and outfielder Juan Rivera last month before the deal hit a snag when Minaya sought more cash than New York cared to invest for Colon.

”I think it’s fair to say that I started out hoping to end up with a package of players that had higher ceilings,” Minaya said. ”I didn’t get what I originally hoped to get, but the market this year has been different.”

Minaya said his effort to move Colon was aggravated by several factors, including Contreras becoming a free agent and the Braves trading Kevin Millwood to the Phillies, eliminating Philadelphia’s interest in the Montreal ace.

”The past month and a half, I don’t wish on any GM, especially a first-year GM,” Minaya said. ”It got a little scary there for me.”

Imagine how it felt for Epstein.

Here is how Bill Madden called it in today’s Daily News:

The Red Sox could have had Colon had Theo been willing to give up their prize young lefty starter, Casey Fossum. Once Epstein balked, it gave the Yankees another opening to orchestrate the Colon sweepstakes.

Fossum may blossom – even into a No. 1-2 starter for the Red Sox. But when he does, where will Nomar Garciaparra and Pedro Martinez be? Boston’s two franchise players are both free agents after the 2004 season, and with nearly $100 million tied up in Manny Ramirez alone through 2008, the financially strapped Red Sox almost certainly won’t be able to keep them both.

As one baseball person, neutral to the Yankee-Red Sox war, observed yesterday: “Other than the Yankees, who are always in a win-now mode, no other team in baseball needs to win in 2003 as badly as the Red Sox. Their future is definitely now.

And yet, they let Casey Fossum stand in the way of getting Colon, who along with Pedro, would have given them the most formidable 1-2 pitching punch this side of Randy (Johnson) and (Curt) Schilling. Can you imagine Steinbrenner doing that?”

Actually, at one point Steinbrenner was willing to give up still-promising lefty slugger Nick Johnson and El Duque to get Colon for himself. That was, of course, before he outbid the Red Sox for Contreras. Now it would seem he’s gotten everything he could have hoped for this winter without having to sacrifice Johnson.

To which a resigned Red Sox Nation would only say: What else is new?

Tony Massarotti, adds a “cry-me-a-river” opinon piece in the Boston Herald:

You have to wonder sometimes if Red Sox fans ever will get it, if they ever will realize that they are nothing more than an unwanted speck of lint on those dapper, deep blue baseball caps in the depths of the Bronx. Rivalry? What rivalry? In New York they must see it for what it is, an inferiority complex of the highest magnitude. Think Empire State Building and you’re starting to get the idea. Yes, size does matter.

If the Red Sox really wanted to, they could have had the blocky Colon, who is built like a mailbox (what a melon, eh?) and has the force of a mail truck. The man was there for the taking. The Sox could have given up Shea Hillenbrand and Casey Fossum and maybe thrown in some cash, and they could have entered the season with The Big Three of Pedro Martinez, Derek Lowe and Colon at the front of their starting rotation.

The Sox chose not to.

So what exactly does that have to do with the Yankees?

It has all become a convenient excuse now, a way for the Red Sox to explain decades of frustration in their traumatized little minds. WHERE WOULD WE BE IF NOT FOR THE YANKEES? HOW MANY TITLES WOULD WE HAVE WON? WHY HAS FATE DEALT US SUCH A CRUEL SENTENCE? In the eternal, piercing words of Nancy Kerrigan, WHY ME?

Sometimes, when the anxiety level reaches its apex, you can’t help but think that Red Sox officials have succeeded only in perpetuating this madness. If Sox oligarchs John Henry and Larry Lucchino did not understand the psychological damage the Yankees have inflicted over the years, they surely do now. Longtime Furious George adversary Lucchino made the mistake of referring to the Yankees as the “Evil Empire” after the Yankees undercut the Red Sox in the Contreras Affair last month. In the same aftermath, the sincere Henry lamented the plight of competing with The Money Store.

Like it or not, that is the reality of owning the Red Sox or supporting them. It just is. Baseball has made attempts in recent years to restore competitive balance to a game that has indisputably gone awry, but those changes will not help the Red Sox as much as they will hurt. The Oakland A’s and Minnesota Twins each won more games than the Sox last season, and they did so with combined payrolls equaling less than the number spent by the Red Sox. Both of those clubs would love to have the money that we throw around in Boston, unless, of course, you happen to be Billy Beane.

But please. Stop whining. Stop blaming the Yankees for everything that goes wrong.

For goodness sake, try to have just a little self-respect.

To add insult to injury, the Sox have also apparently lost former Marlin Kevin Millar to Japan after all, according to report in Baseball Weekly.

Over at espn, Jason Stark has a good piece on the method to King George’s Madness. Here is an excerpt:

“[George] treats his employees the same all the time,” [a] baseball man said. “He doesn’t just treat them that way when they don’t win. He treats them that way when they win, too. His schizophrenic behavior with his employees is legendary. But his commitment to winning is also legendary.”

That’s a great thing if you’re a Yankees fan. But after a winter in which Steinbrenner added digs at Joe Torre and Derek Jeter to his standard rants and raves, our buddy Peter Gammons suggested the Boss has gotten so insatiable, he has actually taken the fun out of winning for his troops and his fans. There’s some truth in that.

But Steinbrenner’s supporters say that even if that’s true for some people, it beats the alternative.

“Hey, he’s involved in a sport,” says one friend of Steinbrenner. “Sports is about winning. George puts winning at a premium. So what? How is that wrong? That’s why you get into the business. Why did George get into this business? He wanted to win, and he wanted to make money. And he’s been very, very successful at both.”

“You know, you need seven starters to win a championship these days,” said one GM the other day. “Just usually, you keep a couple of them in Triple-A.”
“I don’t even worry about it,” said another AL East general manager, Toronto’s J.P. Ricciardi. “I knew coming into this job that they would be like this, so it’s not surprising. You always know the Yankees are there. It’s like playing football in the Big East. You know you have to play Miami sometime. So when you compete with them, you just work on trying to beat them. We don’t get caught up in worrying about how they do it. We just worry about our own house.”

Mark Shapiro, Cleveland’s GM, says: “I don’t look at the Yankees with envy. I don’t look at the Yankees with jealousy. I don’t look at the Yankees with resentment. I look at them as an organization that makes good decisions with their money and plays the game the right way. There’s a lot more to like about the Yankees than to dislike, even as a competitor. If you’re another organization trying to compete with them, you need to frame what you need to do internally, not judge yourself against someone else.”

“They’ve got a right to do what they do,” one NL club executive said of the Yankees. “As we’ve all learned, just because you spend a lot of money doesn’t mean you’re going to win a lot of games. They’ve got the resources to do what they do, and they do it well.

“So they signed a guy like Contreras. Yeah, it gave them a surplus. But that surplus also allowed them to keep certain players (like Contreras and Colon) away from other teams. If you’ve got the resources, who cares if Contreras makes 15 starts and spends the rest of the year in the bullpen? If he’s in Boston, he might make 30 starts and win 15. It means they have to pay more luxury tax, but to them, it’s all relative. Whatever they have to pay in tax isn’t as bothersome as Contreras pitching in a Red Sox uniform.”

But just because the Yankees kept upping the ante (and the payroll) this winter doesn’t mean they aren’t paying attention to the labor deal.

They’re well aware of how much tax they’ll have to pay if they can’t move Mondesi, Sterling Hitchcock or Rondell White. But they’re also well aware that in a year, the contracts of Clemens, Mondesi, White, Hitchcock, Andy Pettitte, Robin Ventura and David Wells all expire. That’s more than $50 million off the books. So they’re in the midst of a long-term retooling, not a succession of one-year quick fixes.

They also needed to take only one look at the throng that showed up for Matsui’s press conference this week — a throng bigger than your average Devil Rays crowd — to look at his signing as a business deal as much as a baseball deal.

So there’s a method to their madness. But does that mean it isn’t sometimes madness all the same? Well, no. It’s just classic Steinbrenner madness.

For the Chicago angle on the trade, here are two articles from today’s Chicago Sun Times (one, and two), as well as Rob Neyer’s take on how Colon changes the shape of the AL Central.

DUQUE: INTERNATIONAL MAN OF MYSTERY

El Duque was one of my favorites. It’s hard to resist a guy with such an enigmatic past, not to mention a beautiful pitching delivery, especially when he was m-o-n-e-y in most every big game he pitched for the Bombers. When he arrived midway through the 1998 season, who knew what to make of him? Hideki “Boo Boo” Irabu was already proving to be a major disappointment, even though I always thought he was funnier than hell (with all the straight-shooters on the Yankees boasted, they needed at least one screw up). But if Irabu looked like a combination of Ralph Kramden and a second-rate Elvis impersonator, El Duque came across like Yul Brenner. There was something inherently serious and grave about Hernandez, while Irabu proved to be nothing more than a tempermental clown.

El Duque has quite a temper too, and it’s another reason I’ve enjoyed watching him so much. Knowing that Jorge Posada had spent most of the day instigating Hernandez into a competitive fury, and then watching the two red asses have it out during the course of a game, was a sincere delight.

There is an excellent account of Hernandez’s life and career in Cuba titled, “Duke of Havana: Baseball, Cuba, and the Search for the American Dream,” by veteran newspaper men, Steve Fainaru, and Ray Sanchez. The book reads more like a Graham Greene novel of political intrigue than the average baseball biography, but it’s very well written and offers a compelling portrait of Hernandez as a complicated, even haunted man (the relationship Duque had with his older brother is especially revealing).
George Willis has a the first of what I hope are several appreciations of Duque in today’s New York Post.

BASEBALL HASN’T BEEN BERY, BERY GOOD TO MINNIE

“What more could I ask of life? I came from nowhere. I worked in the sugar fields as a boy. It was a tough life. I had one pair of shoes and one pair of pants. But I always had a smile on my face. My mother and father…taught me to be a good citizen, a good human being, and to love life.” Minnie Minoso (from “Diamond Greats”, by Rich Wescott—appropriated from the New Historical Abstract

I didn’t know much about Minnie Minoso, so I dipped into my ‘lil baseball library to see what I could find. I also ran Minoso through Google.com and discovered not only are there books on Minoso’s career, but two that are written by Minoso himself (with some help of course): “Extra Innings: My Life in Baseball,” and “Just Call me Minnie: My Six Decades in Baseball.” That’s good news. I have some book hunting to do, which gives me at least one more thing to look forward to this coming baseball summer.

Here is what I dug up from my selection of books:

Sooner or later, whenever we talk about hitting, someone will ask me if there will be another .400 hitter in the major leagues. Of all the so-called “sluggers” in the big time today, the only one I can think of who really qualifies in all respects is Minnie Minoso.

Ted Williams, as told to Paul Gardner, Baseball Stars of 1955 (also appropriated from The New Historical Abstract by Bill James).

Bill James makes an argument for Minoso as a Hall of Famer in his book, “What Ever Happened to the Hall of Fame”:

My off-the-wall Hall of Fame favorite, if I have one, is Minnie Minoso. Minnie doesn’t seem to draw much support, but I’m not sure why. He’s a .300 hitter, give or take a couple of points, plus he had speed (led the league in stolen bases three times, triples three times), and some power (drove in a hundred runs four times; was one of oldest men to ever drive in a hundred runs). He was a good defensive player who played with tremendous enthusiasm, and was very popular while active.

What many people don’t recognize about Minoso is that although he has substantial Hall of Fame credentials as is, he is missing probably his best years due to his race. Minnie came along while the color line was still crumbling. His career inside organized ball started in the 1948 season; he was already 25. He hit .525 in eleven games at Dayton, which earned him a major league look at the start of the ’49 season, but when he went 3-for-16 they had no real track record by which to evaluate him, and sent him out. He had to go beat up the Pacific Coast League for two years to get back to the majors, by which time he was 28.

Most players’ best years are behind them by the age of 28. If you compare Minoso’s record from age 28 on to the records of the Hall of Fame left fielders from age 28 on, you realize how good Minnie was…

James then shows a chart ranking the 16 Hall of Fame left fielders in both Hits and RBI from the age 28 on. Only Musial, Yaz, Lou Brock and “Orator” Jim O’Rourke had more hits than Minoso, who is ahead of Ted Williams and Billy Williams and Pops Stargell and Goose Goslin. And only Musial, Yaz, Pops, and Teddy fuggin Ballgame had more RBI.

James continues:

Very few of the Hall of Fame left fielders can match what Minoso did in the same time frame…If Minoso had been white, he might well have gotten started early enough to get 3,000 hits. He needed 1,040 hits by age 27–fewer than Goslin or Manush or Medwick had collected.

James made some of the same points in the second edition of the Historical Abstract. Excuse the repetition:

Much of the argument that has been applied to Enos Slaughter, and with merit, could also be applied to Minnie Minoso. But for a very brief trail, he didn’t play in the major leagues until the age of twenty-eight, in large part because of his color—yet, since he played in the major leagues so long, few people think about the fact that his best years may have been behind him before he ever got a chance, and that his entire career was spent in what is ordinarily a player’s decline phase. His highest batting average, .326, was in his rookie year in 1951.

As a player, he was tightly similar to Slaughter, a fast, hustling, line-drive hitter with medium-range power. They were about the same size, both very popular players. Their batting and slugging averages are virtually identical (batting averages are .300 and .298, edge to Slaughter; slugging averages are .459 and .453 edge to Minoso. Carl Furillo is in the same group, at .299 and .458). Like Slaughter, Minoso played until he was well past forty, as a hustling, aggressive player of this quality often will. Then he went and played in the Mexican League for another ten years.

I ran an experiment with Minoso, reversing the Brock2 system to try to project what his career stats might have been had he been called up earlier. The Brock2 system is a complex method that attempts to project a player’s final career career statistics, given his performance up to a certain point in time. What I did in the case of Minoso was to try to plug into the formula a combination of accomplishments at an earlier age which would create the projection that the player would later do exactly what Minoso later did…The method estimates that, if he had come up at the age of twenty-two, Minnie Minoso’s career statistics would be those shown below:

Games R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB AVG.

2863 1970 3079 534 168 318 1429 1272 .309

If James made a case for Minoso as a Hall of Famer, Allen Barra asked, then why is he so ignored?

From his insightful but all too brief article, “Minnie Minoso: The New Latin Dynasty”:

The first dark-skinned Latin player, I was told by the hall of Fame, was Cuban-born Saturnino Orestes Arrieta Minoso, “The Cuban Comet,” better known to fans as Minnie. Minnie Minoso made his debut in 1949, two years after Jackie Robinson, playing for Bill Veeck’s Cleveland Indians. Larry Doby, who also made his debut in 1947, shortly after Jackie, is recognized as the AL’s first black players, but what about Minoso? What must it have been like for him, to be both black and Hispanic? There have been shelves full of material on Jackie Robinson, and in recent years baseball historians have started to catch up to Larry Doby, but who knows about Minnie Minoso? We rightfully mourn Jackie Robinson’s lost years, but Minnie Minoso was a year older than Jackie Robinson [Barra contends Minoso was 29, contrary to what James asserted].

How tough was it for Minoso? According to Jules Tygiel, in “Baseball’s Great Experiment”:

In 1950, Luke Easter’s first full season in the majors, pitchers hit him ten times, tying him for the league lead with Al Rosen, one of the few Jewish players in the majors. The following year rookie Minnie Minoso surpassed both Easter and Rosen. With less than a third of the season gone, Minoso had been struck ten times, and many were “deliberate beanballs.” At the season’s end he totaled sixteen, one less than the rookie record. At one point Minoso suggested that he could end the barrage with “a bucket of white paint.” Later in the season he complained, as depicted in a dialect by a Sporting News writer [before political correctness was a gleam in your mutha’s eye], “You get it so bad, I theenk I wear a headguard even in bed. Maybe somebody throw at me when I sleep too. I don’t know whatta kind of baseball this is. Yes, you try to get the man out. You brush back. But you not try to keel him.” During his first four seasons, pitchers hit Minoso 65 times, 8 in the head.

Here is Minnie Minoso himself from Danny Peary’s, “We Played the Game”:

In those first few years in the majors, some teams would call me names. Jimmy Dykes, the manager of Philadelphia, used to call me every name in the book—“you black nigger so-and-so.” One or two of his players would go along with him. After the game he’d come up to the hotel and say, “Hell, Mr. Minoso.” I was wondering how he could now be so polite…. No one on the New York Yankees ever called me a name, so I admired and respected everyone. Even Casey Stengel, who was a comedian, was a great sportsman. I was prepared for the racial insults from opposing players and fans in towns we visited. They went through one ear and out the other. Learned from my parents. The only way I’d answer is with a smile. They’d say “You black…” and I’d flash an insincere grin. Sometimes I’d insult them back in Spanish, warning them, “I can tell you worse things than you said to me, and I can tell you without you knowing what I said.”

“Minnie Minoso was one the funniest guys I was ever around,” Les Moss told Danny Peary, “When he thought an umpire made a bad call, he’d argue in half English and half Spanish and you wouldn’t know what the heck he was saying.”

In this regard, maybe Minoso had an emotional outlet that the American-born black players didn’t.
Allen Barra continues:

And what of that Rookie of the Year Award? Gil McDougald was a fine player, but in 1951 he hit .263 with 14 home runs and 63 RBI and 72 runs in 131 games; Minoso hit .326 with 10 home runs, 76 RBI, and 112 runs. He led the league in stolen bases with 31 (McDougald had 14) and triples with 14 (Gil had 4). His on-base [percentage] was .422 and his slugging average, .500; McDougald was, respectively, .396 and .488. Gil McDougald was a fine rookie; Minnie Minoso was an outstanding one. His 1951 season taught a lesson to Latin players for the next forty-odd years: you will have to do better than the non-Latin player just to be noticed, and far better to win an award.

James compares Minoso favorably against Enos Slaughter—apparently the ideal partner, and Larry Doby.

…Minnie Minoso never had a prime. At the same age when Minoso got a chance to play full time, twenty-nine, Larry Doby had only seven seasons left to play and would lead the league in just two important batting categories, home runs and RBI, both in 1954. At age twenty-nine, Enos Slaughter still had fourteen years of big league ball left but would never lead the league in an category but triples (1949). From age twenty-nine on, Minnie Minoso led the league in hits once, triples three times, total bases once, and stolen bases three times. From age twenty-nine on, Larry Doby never hit .300; from age twenty-nine on, Enos Slaughter hit .300 six times; and from age twenty-nine on, Minnie Minoso hit over .300 eight times.

If Larry Doby and Enos Slaughter deserve to be in Cooperstown, doesn’t Minne Minoso also deserve to be? And if Enos Slaughter was cut a little slack for his military service, and Larry Doby for the immense burden of being the league’s first black player, who about cutting Minnie Minoso a little for beginning his career at a point when most players are at the halfway mark?

[Minoso] remains the Invisible Hall of Famer, and in this respect his career set a pattern for Latin stars that have followed. Latin ballplayers, white, black, or of mixed parentage, are still baseball’s invisible men. Of the twenty players chosen to start the 2001 All Star game, eight were Latinos. If Pedro Martinez wasn’t injured, that would have been nine of twenty…If pressed to pick the single biggest difference between the game before 1950 and the game as it is played now, I’d have to cite the dominance of Latin players.

“Minnie is to Latin players what Jackie Robinson is to black players. He was the first Latin player to become what in today’s language is a ‘superstar,'” said Orlando Cepeda.

Now that the former players have something to say about the vote, you would hope that Cepeda, and Ted Williams were not alone in their acknowledgement of Minoso’s significance.

Personally, I can’t wait to read more about him. I’ll keep you posted when I do.

MEANWHILE, AT THE HALL OF JUSTICE

Part One

There are several good articles on the Veterans Committee which have been published recently that are worth investigating.

The first, “A Brief History of the Veterans Committee,” written by Neal Traven for Baseball Prospectus, is a concise overview, and a great place to start, especially for those who aren’t one hundred percent sure what the Veterans Committee is all about.

Tom Verducci from SI, also wrote an insightful piece, delineating the newly revamped Veterans Committee’s selection process:

Give the Hall of Fame credit. Its purpose for re-engineering the Veterans Committee was noble. It wanted to end the back-room cronyism and bring more voices into play. Now 84 members will vote: 58 Hall of Famers, 13 Frick Award winners (those in the broadcasters’ wing of the Hall), 11 Spink Award winners (from the writers’ wing) and two members of the old committee whose terms have not yet expired. A player must be named on at least 75 percent of the ballots to gain enshrinement. Great. But creating the ballot for the new committee proved troublesome.

First, the Hall, with help from Elias Sports Bureau, identified the more than 1,400 players who played at least 10 years in the big leagues, up to and including the 1981 season. A 10-person committee of writers and historians whittled that list to 200.

Next, a screening committee of 60 writers (two from each major league city with one team and four from those with two) was individually charged with voting for 25 players from that list of 200. I served on that committee, and it was the most difficult assignment I had all year…

Remember that cheesy promotion last season when fans were asked to vote for the 10 greatest moments in baseball history? The voting populace, many of whom used the Internet to cast their ballot, had no sense of history. Basically, if they didn’t see it on SportsCenter, people didn’t vote for it. That’s why Kirk Gibson’s home run made the top 10 and Bobby Thomson’s didn’t, among other short-sighted mistakes.

That same lack of perspective — or worse, was it laziness? — poisoned the screening committee results. Hey, with 200 names, the 25-slice pie could have been cut many ways. There is no “right” outcome. But we do know more historical balance was needed. To virtually disregard the first three-quarters of a century of baseball is wrong, if not shameful.

Moreover, the Hall of Fame asked six of its former players to serve as another sort of screening committee. They were charged with picking five players from the list of 200. Four of the five players they selected were on the writers’ ballot. Their fifth choice, while not identified, was added to the other 25, putting the ballot at 26.
And that’s how just about everybody who retired before 1950 got hosed. Of the 26 who made the final cut:

none retired prior to 1929.

only four played their entire careers before World War II.

19 played in the 1960s.

Now, falling through another crack, are those old-timers who don’t show up on the radar of the screening committee. And after this well-intentioned process, the fear is that they are gone for good.

Sadly, there aren’t many true veterans on either ballot for the Veterans Committee to consider. The Veterans Committee has been revamped all right. They ought to call it the Baby Boomer Committee now.

Marc Hugunin applied Bill James’ Kelter List to the group of twenty-six players up for consideration by the Veterans Committee over at Baseball Primer. For general reference, those questions are as follows:

1. Was he ever regarded as the best player in baseball? Did anybody, while he was active, ever suggest that he was the best player in baseball?

15. Did the player uphold the standards of sportsmanship and character that the Hall of Fame, in its written guidelines, instructs us to consider?

OK, those are the questions, here is Hugunin’s conclusion:

It has been suggested that questions #1 and 6 are the only ones that really matter in HoF voting. In the case of the veteran’s ballot, a clear “yes” cannot be said of any player in answer to these questions. So the hair-splitting of the rest of the Keltner List becomes more helpful here than with the BBWAA ballot.

So, taking all of the questions and answers into account, it seems clear that Santo, Allen, Minoso, Gordon, Boyer, Oliva, Pinson, Flood and Bonds are the best candidates on the veteran’s ballot. Each of these players can appeal to eight or more of the above to make their case, with Santo able to appeal to the most areas of analysis-ten.
On WS, Santo was arguably the best player in MLB in ’66 and ’67, at which time he was also the best player on his team and at his position. He played more than 2000 games and may be the best eligible player not in the HoF, overall and at his position. He had several MVP-type and many All-Star caliber seasons. If he was the best player on his team, it could at least contend for a pennant.

No other player on the veteran’s ballot can put quite so many items on the plus side of his case, though if you set aside Allen’s demerits on the so-called character issue he might even rank ahead of Santo. I don’t wish to debate the merits of the demerits, only to point out that they have surely hurt Allen’s historical ranking and may hurt him on this ballot. But if you set that aside, he is probably the top-rated player on the ballot on questions #2, 6 and 10.

Minoso probably benefits even more than Allen from this analysis, in the sense that everybody knows about Allen’s positives and negatives and has made up his mind. Minoso’s accomplishments have, in contrast, been somewhat forgotten. His late start diminishes his career numbers and the shadow of Ted Williams diminishes his peak. But he benefits the most from consideration of question #9, and scores highly on his MVP-type and All-Star type seasons and comps.

Gordon, having retired 50 years ago, also benefits from the close scrutiny of the Keltner List. He scores highly among second basemen, for his pennant race and post-season performances, and for his MVP season. Boyer scores well for his longtime leadership of the Cardinals team, including a team that won a World Championship. Oliva has the best comps and a good record in MVP voting.

Pinson’s comps are better than most, Flood stands out on defense and for his stand against the reserve clause, and Bonds at his position and for his then unusual power/speed combo.

Torre, Wills, Colavito, Lolich and Reynolds can make claims against several of the categories but lack a real high point to hang their hat on. Hodges ranks highly on certain elements but perhaps not enough of them.

On the other side of the coin, one could argue that the BBWAA has done its job correctly in determining that none of these 26 players is a HoFer. It is shocking how few of them were ever even the best player on his own team, and how few of them led his team to a pennant. Few of them could play beyond his prime, and their comps, as a whole, stink.

But I would hope that some combination of Santo, Allen, Minoso and Gordon is selected.

Part Two

I have no problem with Santo or Dick Allen going in, and I love Joe Gordon, so I’ve got no beef there either. I expect Marvin Miller, who is on the composite ballot, to be respected properly while he’s still around to experience it. The man seems bitter enough; let him enjoy his just due. No matter how much I’m fascinated by Curt Flood, I don’t know that I’d put him. Believe me if they ever did, I’d never be happier with a selection that I may have reservations about; even though he’s dead, Flood deserves all the public tribute and recognition that he can get.

But the more I’ve thought about it over the past couple of weeks, the more convinced I am that Minnie Minoso is a Hall of Famer. I had read Allen Barra’s profile on Minoso last summer in his collection, “Clearing the Bases,” and was duly impressed, both with Minoso’s talents as a player, and his importance as the first dark-skinned Latino to play in the major leagues. Barra asked a pertinent question: why is Minoso, the Jackie Robinson of Latin ballplayers not in the Hall of Fame? Especially when his numbers are comparable to say, Larry Doby.

My father has wondered out loud for years why Larry Doby has been so overlooked in comparison with Robinson? This is coming from a man who modestly asserts that he’s “second-to-none as a Jackie fan.” The point is not to take anything away from Robinson, but to note just how neglected Doby is in comparison. Being the first black player in the American League has to amount to something, no? But if Doby has been shortchanged in some way by coming in second to Robinson, then Minoso doesn’t place at all.

It just seems odd. Especially considering the socially-sensitive culture we live in. Where are the Latin protest groups? How come no one is fighting the good fight for Minnie Minoso? This seems particularly alarming when you consider how popular he was during his heyday in the 1950’s in Chicago with the Go-Go White Sox.

“There is a reason they call it the second city,” opined my old man.

Casting all aspersions aside, it’s a pretty big deal when the first black player in Chicago, an effusive, and personable star, has a remarkable career in many ways, only to be summarily dissed by the baseball establishment. I can’t figure why the media hasn’t picked up on it. The only thing I can guess is that perhaps Minoso is seen in retrospect as something of a clown. The old dude who kept coming back for a couple of at bats. Or maybe he’s not keen right now because he isn’t hard enough. There is no edge. And if no one is going to come out and straight up say Minoso was an Uncle Tom, maybe that’s what they are thinking. How cool is that? How tough is that. It’s a similar brand of scorn and neglect that greeted in some quarters as Louis Armstrong throughout his old age. I may be completely off, but I’m at a loss as to why there isn’t more support in the media and amongst baseball fans for Minoso.

GRAND OPENING

The Yankees held what is being called the biggest press conference in team history yesterday, to introduce their new left-fielder, who coincidentally is the most popular player in Japan, Hideki Matsui. John Harper writes today in the Daily News that the “press conference was…big…flowery,” and “reeking of self-congratulation.” Nothing suprising there.

Bob Raissman adds another piece in the News about the effects the Japanese media will have on the Yankees this season. He quotes Lou Pinella, who has had plenty of experience managing a Japanese phenom: “Let me put it this way, Joe’s going to earn his money this year,” Piniella said. “He’s going to have to spend more time dealing with the media.”

Joe Torre interrupted his vacation in Hawaii to attend the affair, and bristled at the recent criticisms Boss George laid on him, and his staff (Harper is one of the first local columnists to predict that Bronx Zoo-like craziness could be in store for Torre and his team this year; Jack Curry hinted as much in the Times yeserday too):

“My coaches work hard,” Torre snapped. “We’re all disappointed; I was disappointed. I was worried about Anaheim. We all knew they were good, that they could cause you problems because they don’t strike out.

“Even though when you’re wearing this uniform, you understand you’re expected to get to the World Series. But we won 103 games. If we were going to slack off, we’d have done it when we clinched the division. We just got beat.

“We didn’t stop working. Sure, I’m disappointed, but I don’t look back and say I’d have done something different.”

“My job is to put things together best I can,” Torresaid. “The eight starters – sure it’s nice to say use five of them and put three in the bullpen – but you’re not dealing with playing cards in the basement. You’re dealing with people.”

“I told (Weaver) last year when I put him in the bullpen that he was one of the future guys on this ballclub and that he’s going to be a starter,” Torre said. “But again, everybody can’t start.”

Hey Joe, never let em see ya sweat, babe.

COLON BLOCK PARTY

The Yankees may still have something to say about Montreal starter, Bartolo Colon after all. Here is an excerpt from the backpage cover story in today’s Daily News:

Sources told The Daily News yesterday that general manager Brian Cashman spent much of the day trying to negotiate a three-way deal with the Expos and either the Marlins or White Sox that would involve 20-game winner Bartolo Colon.

The primary motivation for the Yankees to make a deal is to keep Colon away from the Red Sox, who have been trying to make a deal for the Expos righthander.

In the deals under consideration, Colon would not end up in pinstripes but with the third team, Florida or Chicago, which would send the Yankees a top prospect. The Expos would get the Yanks’ Orlando Hernandez, but would have to pay only a portion of the $4 million-$5 million salary he is expected to be awarded in arbitration.

The Boston Globe confirmed the story, adding:

Meanwhile, the Sox’ hopes of landing a starting pitcher from Montreal – they were working on a multiteam deal that would have landed them Javier Vazquez – were dashed as Montreal was on the verge of sending ace Bartolo Colon to the White Sox in a three-team deal involving the Yankees. The Expos would also receive first baseman Jeff Liefer from the White Sox. Expos GM Omar Minaya did not return a phone call late last night seeking confirmation.

The Yankees planned to send righthander Orlando Hernandez to the Expos – and pay most, if not all, of his salary (he made $3.2 million last season and is arbitration eligible) – while receiving righthanded reliever Antonio Osuna from the White Sox, for whom he was 8-2 with a 3.86 ERA in 59 games. The White Sox apparently needed to move Osuna’s $2.4 million salary in order to clear enough payroll space to take on Colon’s $8.25 million salary. Ostensibly, Osuna would replace Ramiro Mendoza, who signed with the Sox as a free agent.

CLOSE BUT NO MILLAR? WHAT GIVES?

There are conflicting reports this morning regarding the Red Sox possible aquisition of former Florida Marlins first baseman, Kevin Millar.

According to the AP:

Former Marlins outfielder Kevin Millar intends to reject a waiver claim Tuesday by the Boston Red Sox, saying he will go through with plans to play in Japan this year.

Millar agreed last week to a $6.2 million, two-year contract with Chunichi of the Central League, a deal with a player option for 2005 that could make the agreement worth more than $10 million.

Florida put Millar on waivers to get him off the Marlins’ 40-man roster. Boston claimed him, but as a veteran player Millar had the right to reject the claim.

The Marlins issued a statement saying Millar’s agent, Sam Levinson, had informed them he was rejecting the claim and his client would play in Japan.

Levinson, reached late Tuesday night, confirmed Millar has an agreement with the Dragons and said he expects Boston’s claim to be rejected by the end of Wednesday

But in today’s Boston Globe, Bob Hohler and Gordon Edes are praising rookie GM Theo Epstein for pulling off “one of the shrewdest acquisitions in recent Red Sox lore”:

Theo Epstein yesterday defied tradition by claiming Kevin Millar off waivers from the Florida Marlins as a prelude to extricating him from his contract with Japan’s Chunichi Dragons and signing him to play first base at Fenway Park.

Millar, a career .296 hitter whom the Sox have long coveted, planned to reject the waiver claim, according to a source close to him. By doing that, Millar would become a free agent, severing his ties to the Marlins and leaving him encumbered only by the two-year, $6.2 million deal he signed last week with the Dragons after the Japanese team paid the Marlins $1.2 million for the right to negotiate with him.

The Sox would then compensate the Dragons to release Millar, according to a source familiar with how the scenario is expected to unfold. That would free Millar to sign with the Sox, which both sides expect to occur.

”We’re confident we can reach a resolution of this matter that will make all sides happy and leave everybody whole,” said Epstein, who declined to discuss details of the multilayered endeavor.

By claiming Millar off waivers after the Marlins sought his unconditional release, the Sox broke an informal code by which one team generally does not interfere with another club’s transaction with an overseas organization such as the Dragons. The Marlins were formerly owned by Sox principal owner John W. Henry.

”They broke a gentleman’s agreement,” a Marlins source said. ”This is [b.s]. Yeah, we’re [peeved].”

Epstein expressed a smidgeon of contrition.

”It was not our intention to violate any unwritten rule,” he said. ”We were simply putting our best foot forward.”

Officially, the Marlins released a statement that said they had conferred with Millar’s agent, Sam Levinson.

”Levinson has told the Marlins that Kevin Millar will reject the Red Sox claim and play for the Chunichi Dragons in 2003,” the Marlins said.

The statement was half-right, anyway, since Millar would reject the claim. But he made clear after he signed with the Dragons that he would have stayed in the major leagues for less money if he were given the opportunity. He lost that chance when the Marlins effectively sold him to Chunichi, of the Japanese Central League, clearing the way for the Dragons to sign him to the richest contract in the team’s history.

Millar, 31, earned $1.05 million from Florida last season, when he hit .306 with 16 homers and 57 RBIs. He was eligible for arbitration, in which he could have doubled his salary. But the Marlins, who used Millar mostly in the outfield, opted to acquire Todd Hollandsworth and Gerald Williams, making Millar expendable.

”If some major league team had offered me $1.5 million and told me I could play every day, I probably would have taken it,” he was quoted as saying after he signed with Chunichi in a deal that also included a $3 million option for a third season. ”But to walk away from that much money on the table in Japan, I don’t think it would have been responsible for my family.”

Enter the Sox, who tried in vain several times over the last year to obtain Millar in a trade. While the Sox seemed to have little hope in recent days of overcoming the thicket of major league rules and international legal entanglements to land the righthanded hitter, they quietly laid the groundwork for the surprise move by exploring the possibilities and apparently satisfying themselves that the Dragons and Millar would be open to their initiative.

”It’s something we haven’t done lightly,” Epstein said. ”We researched it so we could proceed without infringing on the rights of the Marlins, the Chunichi Dragons, or Kevin Millar. We were comfortable making the claim when we were confident there were several possible resolutions of this move and all of them would involve the teams being made whole and not ending up with less than what they started with.”

The Marlins, despite their anger over Epstein’s methods, ultimately should have no complaint over the financial fallout because they would not forfeit their payment from the Dragons. And the Sox could compensate the Dragons by giving them outfielder/first baseman Benny Agbayani, whose production is similar to Millar’s and who is popular in Japan both because of his Hawaiian roots and his appearance with the Mets in the 2000 World Series. The Dragons also would receive cash from the Sox, presumably at least the amount Chunichi paid the Marlins.

The Globe usually gets things right, so I assume Millar is in fact going to Beantown. I’ll update the story as it unfolds…

ROBBIE REDUX

Bob Klapisch updated the piece he wrote on Robbie Alomar for the Bergan Record last week for espn today. It is essentially the same article, but worth looking at if you missed it the first time round. Alomar predicts, “I’m going to have a great year,” and I tend to agree with him.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking, and I know I’m ready for New York now,” Alomar said the other day. “I know what to expect now with the fans, the media, just New York in general. I’m not just going to have a good year, I’m ready to have a great year.”

For this to happen, Alomar makes only one on-field request of new manager Art Howe. He wants to bat in the same spot in the batting order every day — a complete break with former manager Bobby Valentine’s philosophy that a fluid lineup produces better offensive results.

Alomar wouldn’t mind batting second ahead of, say, Cliff Floyd, but it remains to be seen who GM Steve Phillips will find to play third base. Alomar was mildly critical of the Mets’ decision to let Edgardo Alfonzo leave as a free agent, and says, “whoever we get to play third has to be able to hit in the middle of the lineup. We need another right-handed bat.”

Alomar is the first to admit he was practically invisible as a right-handed hitter last summer, batting just .204 with only nine extra-base hits in 162 at-bats. Much of the problem, he admits, was self-induced, or as he put it, “putting too much pressure on myself.

“I know what I’m capable of and I tried to do more than that,” he said. “I was never able to totally relax.”

His anxiety contributed to an overall sense of unease in the Met clubhouse, one the club is finally addressing. Not only did the Mets sign stand-up professionals like Tom Glavine and Mike Stanton this winter, but they traded Rey Ordonez to the Devil Rays — his fate sealed when the shortstop called Mets fans “stupid” at the end of the 2002 season.

Silly me. I thought the root of Alomar’s problems was the fact he, not Mike Piazza, was the gay Met. Just a horseshit hunch, but if the shoe fits…

MY FAVORITE THINGS OF 2002

II. The Best Game I Sorta Seen

I was as happy as any Yankee fan could be when Boss George brought Jason Giambi to the Yankees after the 2001 campaign. Although I understood the sentimental attachment fans had for Tino Martinez, I felt Tino’s career as a Yankee was a perfect bridge between superstars Mattingly and Giambi, and therefore didn’t feel overly emotional about his leaving.

I attended the first home series of the 2002 season at the Stadium and strained to hold my tongue in the face of the boo’s that cascaded down on the Yankees’ new slugger. Let them have their say, I reasoned with myself, while I was secretly stewing. They miss Tino, and are entitled to have their say. Whatever. I really wanted to lash out and call the boo birds a bunch of ignorant slobs, but why fight nature’s cycle? It was only a matter of time before they would be showering Giambo with cheers.

Later in the spring, I developed a case of dizziness as a result of a stomach virus. It was a minor version of what native New Yorker, Jamal Mashburn, power-forward for the erstwhile Charlotte Hornets, contracted during the playoffs. New York is a tough town for dizziness. Everything is in motion. Needless to say, the subways and crowds of pedestrians became a temporary challenge.

This was the condition I found myself in when I went to see the latest “Star Wars” installment during it’s opening week in late May. I had plans with some of my closest friends to catch an afternoon showing at the Zeigfield and then catch the Yankee-Minnesota game later that night (my girl caught up with us for the second leg of the tour at the Stadium). Well, standing on line for the movie on 5th avenue was unsettling in and of itself, but when the movie started, I knew I was in for a long day. The entire first reel of the movie was not meant for those with vertigo, however mild my case may have been. I closed my eyes a lot, and breathed deeply. The deep breathing proved problematic, as there was a toddler next to me with enough flatulence to knock a buzzard of a shit wagon.

When we made it to the Bronx, it was already raining lightly. Our seats were in the upper tier section out in left field, which didn’t help my stomach settle down any. Or the dizziness. But as uncomfortable as I was, part of me was fascinated by the strange sensation of being so unnerved by the open space, and sitting so high up. I’d catch the flight of a bird sail past, and feel like I was going to fall over. I’m not one to leave a game until the final out is recorded, but I resigned myself to leave when I couldn’t take it any longer.

The Yanks fell behind early, but came storming back, handing Mike Mussina a cushy 8-3 lead, which he promptly pissed away. After six full, I had had enough (of the vertigo, not the Yanks), so Em and I left our gang, and headed home with the Yanks now trailing, 9-8.

The score remained the same when we got back to my place. Emily and I were embroiled in some deep emotional strudel at that time, so I blew off the end of the game in favor of hashing things out with her. Just as we were falling asleep the phone rang. My friend Liz, who was still at the Stadium, reported that Bernie had just hit a solo shot to tie the game at 9 in the bottom of the ninth. It wasn’t the time to get overly excited, so I gave her specific instructions not to call again unless she had good news to report.

She didn’t call back.

I checked my answering machine in the morning. Nothing. That was that, I thought.

Emily and I picked up where we had left off the night before in the Land of Total Heaviosity, talking for hours, exhausting us silly. Eventually I stepped out to get the papers, get the papers. It was still raining.

As fate would have it, when I turned the tabloids over to check the back pages, I discovered that Jason Giambi had hit a grand slam in the bottom of the 14th to win the damn thing for the Yanks. Holy fuggin sheet. I was way too excited for Giambi to feel badly for having missed it myself. Later, when I saw the replays I imagined Joe Torre greeting Giambi like Paul Sorvino welcoming the young Henry Hill outside the courthouse after his first bust in “Good Fellas”: “Hey, you broke your cherry!”

Cue: “Rags to Riches.”

I was only sorry that I wasn’t there to give the big fella his props in person. But then, he didn’t have to deal with too many boo bird after that night, did he?

ON AND ON

Travis Mutchell, who covers the Yankees with a sharp eye, and an even sharper wit, has reached the 5,000-hit milestone at his site, Boy of Summer. I want to take the time to not only give him a shout of hearty congradulations, but to recommend his page to anyone with even a remote interest in the Bronx Bombers. Even if you hate the Yanks, check it out. It’s good and good for you.

DAMNED YANKEE

Newsday reported last week that despite the persistent rumors, super-prospect Drew Henson has no intentions of leaving baseball for a career in football. That’s too bad because right now Henson doesn’t look like much more than one of George’s boffo busts.

In his latest chat rap, espn minor-league analyst John Sickels commented, “I have several questions here about Henson. I’m very concerned about him…he’s shown no growth as a prospect at all, and in some ways has gone backward. If he doesn’t turn it around this year, I don’t think he will.”

THAT’S A WRAP

According to the AP, “The Venezuelan Winter League canceled the rest of its season Monday because it can’t guarantee security, supplies and media coverage during an anti-government strike.”

David Pinto has a great link to instapundit, for anyone who is interested in reading more about the tumult in Venezuela.

Pinto also tracked down a lengthy article on baseball in Latin America from the Star-Tribune yesterday that is well worth checking out.

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON’T KNOW

There is a piece in today’s Boston Globe suggesting that the Red Sox have more interest in Javier Vazquez than in Bartolo Colon. Duh. The Boston Herald chims in too.

LOOKING AHEAD

Here are two articles that look forward to the 2003 season: one by Peter Gammons of espn, the other by Tom Singer of mlb.com. We’ll check back in October to see what to make of it all.

VETERAN UMP PASSES AWAY

Durwood Merrill, an American League umpire for 23 years, died Saturday at the age of 64. Jerome Holtzman contributes an obituary for mlb.com.

This story is a keeper, if you haven’t heard it already:

A 6-foot, 200-pounder, Merrill had a thick neck and a barrel chest and seemed intimidating behind the plate. But he always had a good sense of humor. Once at Fenway Park, a little old lady leaned over the rail and yelled, “If you were my husband, I’d feed you poison.”

Merrill shouted back, “Lady, if I were married to you, I’d eat it.”

JOSE, CAN YOU READ?

Alan Schwarz has a nice appreciation of Jim Brosnan’s seminal book “The Long Season” (1960) in light of Jose Canseco’s pending tell-all biography. Schwarz notes that Bronsan’s book opened the door that Jim Bouton’s “Ball Four” would kick down nearly a decade later:

When “The Long Season” came out in 1960, a young pitcher named Jim Bouton was pitching for the Yankees’ Carolina League team in Greensboro, N.C. He bought it, read it, and decided to carry some of Brosnan’s sensibilities to the big leagues.

“I really enjoyed it tremendously,” Bouton told me of “The Long Season” several years ago. “I remember when I was reading the book, the parts that excited me the most were whenever he would quote any of the players or coaches … It was fascinating to me what the ballplayers actually said to each other during games, in the bullpens, or after games. It really revealed them as personalities. What were these guys like? How did they think? What do they talk about? What’s going on in their heads, you know?”

BILL JAMES, YANKS IN FULL EFFECT

Bill James’ fingerprints are all over the Red Sox bullpen reconfiguration this winter. Theo Epstein didn’t need to be convinced by the sabertmetrics guru either, reports Gordon Edes in his Sunday column in the Globe.

In a seperate item, Edes offers a look at the Yankees financial muscle. “Baseball historian Glenn Stout, who collaborated with Richard A. Johnson, curator of the Sports Museum of New England, on the definitive history of the Red Sox, “Red Sox Century,” last year did the same for “Yankees Century,” another seminal work. Stout addressed the subject of the Yankees’ purported financial advantage over their rivals in an essay titled ‘YANKEE$’ Here’s an excerpt:

”Of course it’s the money. But it’s not only the money. And that distinction makes all the difference.

”Since 1903 the New York Yankees have been among the wealthiest teams in baseball, but it is incorrect to attribute all of their success to the size of their bank account. In fact, for most of their tenure atop the baseball world one or more other teams have had just as much if not more money than the Yankees. But no other team has spent it as wisely and as well.

”Under Jacob Ruppert, the Yankees were probably the wealthiest team in baseball. But the personal resources of Tom Yawkey, who purchased the Red Sox in 1933, far outstripped those of the Yankees. For much of the next 45 years, Boston’s payroll was larger than that of the Yankees. The Milwaukee Braves of the 1950s, Walter O’Malley’s Dodgers in the 1960s, and the Cardinals of August Busch were all similarly capable of outspending the Yankees.

”In recent years, under George Steinbrenner, the Yankees’ financial advantage – much of it due to a series of lucrative television contracts – has in general been more pronounced. At any given time during Steinbrenner’s reign, however, there have been as many as a half-dozen other teams with similar resources – Ewing Kaufman’s Kansas City Royals, Gene Autry’s California Angels, and Ted Turner’s Atlanta Braves, for example. It is interesting to note that from 1982 to 1993, despite the abundance of their resources, the Yankees won nothing.

”In 2001 the Dodgers and the Red Sox both had payrolls virtually identical to New York’s. The difference in wins and losses, however, was dramatic. The truth is that the Yankees have done more with their money than other clubs. Consider this: Since 1923 the Yankees have spent close to a billion dollars on salaries, making the average cost of each of their 26 world championships around $40 million. Their cost per world championship has been less than any other team in baseball.”

SHINJO’S BACK: GODZILLA’S IN TOWN

While Yankee fans eagerly await the unvieling of Hideki Matsui at the Stadium tomorrow, the Mets signed outfielder Tsuyoshi Shinjo to a one-year deal worth $600,000 over the weekend (he can earn another $400,000 in performance bonuses based on plate appearances). My cousin Gabe and I are both very pleased to see the androgynous (re: girl) Shinjo back with the Mets.

Here is a take on the deal from a Phillies fan’s perspective, courtesy of Mike’s Baseball Rants:

The AP says that [Shinjo] was signed as insurance in case the projected regular center fielder, Roger Cedeno fails. This is a tremendous vote of confidence for Cedeno and also a poor plan. Should Cedeno fail, are the Mets prepared to eat the remaining three years and $14.5 M on his contract? They have been rumored to be shopping him around, but it is extremely doubtful that anyone would be willing to take on his salary.

I’m confused. Wasn’t Timo Perez basically the Mets starting center fielder last year after they traded Jay Payton to the Rockies while Cedeno only played leftfield last year? Wasn’t Perez also the best outfielder on the Mets’ roster last year? And isn’t Perez 27 and still improving while Shinjo is 30 and declining. (Cedeno is 27 as well but has been through 5 organizations and has seen his OPS drop each of the last four years). If all this is true, why are they considering anyone other than Perez for centerfield? Two words-Steve Phillips.

By the way, adding Shinjo in no way clears the way for a Burntiz and/or Cedeno trade. The Mets have been shopping the two disappointing players-and their salaries-without much luck this entire offseason. If I were Phillips, I would stick Perez in the center field slot next to Cliff Floyd in left. After that, it seems the best option is the apparently untradeable Jeromy Burnitz in right. Burnitz is a decent bet to turn things around in 2003. He had 6 straight seasons prior to last year with an OPS at least 7% better than average. He will be 34 next season, however, and it’s possible that he is no longer capable of being a productive player. He had been declining slightly in the last two years before signing with the Mets. Of course, the foolishness in signing these players to such lucrative contract to begin with is what no has them in this mess (especially Cedeno, who was supposed to be their leadoff hitter last year but had just come off a year with a .337 on-base percentage).

Ostensibly, Perez is now the fifth outfielder behind the three designated starters (Cedeno, Cliff Floyd, and Jeromy Burnitz) and Shinjo. Shinjo can play all three outfield positions well and was brought in potentially to replace Cedeno, so I assume he becomes the #4 outfielder. So where does that leave Perez? Apparently, he will be fighting Brady Clark and Joe McEwing for the last one or two spots available in the outfield.

That would be great, just great. Perhaps McEwing will be retained because of his versatility and Clark for flashes of talent after being acquired form the Reds last year (including a 3-for-3 game). It would make sense because two starters (Burnitz and Floyd) bat left-handed and the third is a switch-hitter. The Mets would probably prefer to retain the two right-handed bats over Perez’ lefty one. That would mean the Perez would be traded, demoted, or released. Perhaps the Phillies can pick him up. He would be a superior to Ricky Ledee as a sub for Marlon Byrd. Whatever happens, it is highly probable that Perez will no longer be an integral part of the team in 2003 and he is probably the least deserving of such an honor of all the Mets’ disappointing outfielders.

One last item related to Perez, he made $205K last year as a third-year veteran. That’s only $5K over the major-league minimum. Perez would also be the cheapest of all of the players concerned (except perhaps for Clark). So the apparent rejection of him makes little sense based on performance or on salary. That’s a twin killing for GM extraordinaire Steve Phillips. How does he do it?

The [Saturday] Times also reports that the search for a Mets third baseman continues. However, they have ruled out a trade for KC’s Joe Randa. They are at an impasse with free agent Jose Hernandez (who’s mostly a shortstop any way). And they got shot down by Houston in trying to acquire Geoff Blum. It looks like the only viable candidate is free agent Tyler Houston, who the Mets had been talking to prior to the failed attempt to acquire Boston’s Shea Hillenbrand in a three-way trade.

This is a team that is supposed to compete in the NL East next year? They did improve their staff by picking up Tom Glavine and the offense by picking up Cliff Floyd (oh, and the avuncular John Franco may return), but with huge holes in right and third and now a self-made one in center, they could have a repeat of 2002. I think what this aging team needs is a babysitter to make sure that they don’t get into trouble. Heck who needs a third baseman anyway? They’re just overrated. I hope Philips has set up a seach agent on Hot Jobs.

THE CHICAGO WAY

A Movie Review

I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that the movie musical, like slapstick comedy, is a virtually lost art form. “Chicago”, the filmed adaptation of Bob Fosse’s revue, has opened to rave reviews from the critics, suggesting their still may be life in the musical idiom after all. (That Sean Penn’s pratfall in “I am Sam” stands as the best pratfall in recent memory doesn’t bode well for the return of slapstick anytime soon.)

I saw “Chicago” this past weekend in Greenwich, CT, which is a story in itself. My girl and I took in a late afternoon show with the local geriatrics, and we had the grave misfortune to be seated behind Quasimoto in a cardigan with a swollen prostate, an itchy scalp, and a twitchy neck to boot. I’ve never seen a respectable member of an upstanding community fidget so damn much during a movie. Emily and I took turns sitting behind the knuckle-dragger so he wouldn’t ruin the entire movie for either one of us.

“Chicago” is an evocative and well-crafted musical, which feels like a movie, not simply an adaptation of a stage play. It is nowhere near as frenetic as “Moulin Rouge”, for which I was thankful. The director Rob Marshall offers some stunning visuals, but the editing is still too rapid, too cutty for my liking. It’s as if either the director, a) doesn’t trust the images—or the audience’s attention span—enough to linger on a single shot for too long, or b) the hyper-activity of the editing is intended to make up for the short-comings of the actors. Perhaps, the brisk cutting was a conscious choice of style and pacing, but it distracted me from the performances.

“Chicago” moves at a brisk, lively pace. Renee Zellweger, an actress I don’t have much affection for, is more than game, and she delivers a winning performance, overcoming her limitations as a musical/theater actress by the sheer force of her willingness to enjoy herself and please the audience. Catherine Zeta-Jones, on the other hand, is so intent on blowing everyone away, that she comes across as wooden, mechanical. It’s not that she isn’t trying. If anything, she’s trying too hard. She can sing, and dance, but it feels like work; Cyd Charisse, she’s not. Even her dramatic scenes feel hollow (something she does have in common with Charisse). She’s a bitch, without the bite.

Richard Gere has developed into a polished actor; the gray suits him. (I think his role, as the corrupt cop in “Internal Affairs” was a turning point.) Gere’s first number is a bit shaky—I half-covered my eyes for fear of being embarrassed on his behalf, but he recovers nicely and handles the role with aplomb, and humor. It was nice to see Queen Latifah in the supporting role as Mama Morton, though she isn’t really a singer or an actress, and John C. Riley, expertly cast, is once again, on the mark with a sympathetic, and earnest performance as the nice guy who finishes last.

Musicals never really die off completely. They keep coming back because even if they aren’t well made, there is an audience for them. They are a truly great American invention after all. “Chicago” is likely to satiate old-time musical lovers and attract younger audiences as well.

DOBY AND THE TITTY PITCH

I was perusing Danny Peary’s oversized, oral history, “We Played the Game: 65 Players Remember Baseball’s Greatest Era–1947-1964” (1994} this weekend, looking for the lowdown on Minnie Minoso. I happened to run across an entry from Mudcat Grant, a player I recently encountered in Terry Pluto’s “The Curse of Rocky Colavito”, and I wanted to share this entry because it sheds some light on Larry Doby, president of the Nice-Guys-Finish-Second Club, and offers a good Satcial Paige anecdote. (Aren’t they all good?)

Next to Grant’s entry, is a photo of a young Mudcat in 1958. Resting his hand against his cheek, Grant’s wide face is open and curious. There is a restraint there, but it barely conceals a sense of pride, and accomplishment.

The caption reads: A personalbe, outspoken right-hander from Lacoochee, Florida, Jim “Mudcat” Grant reached the Cleveland Indians in 1958 and would become the American League’s first black starting pitcher.

In my rookie season, I was inserted into a good rotation with Cal McLish, Gary Bell, and Ray Narleski. I pitched over 200 innnings, won 10 games and never returned to the minores. I preferred beginning my major league career with Cleveland rather than the Yankees or the Red Sox because the Indians and Dodgers had been the ringleaders in signing black players. As a young boy, Jackie Robinson had been my main hero until the Indians signed Larry Doby. I liked that name! [which proves that it takes one to know one] Thos guys inspired me to want to be a major league ballplayer. Now the Indians made me the only black starting pitcher in the American League. The only other black starters were Don Newcombe and Brooks Lawrence of the Reds and one of my heroes, the Cardinals’ Sad Sam Jones. On the Cubs, Sam became the first black to pitche a no-hitter after staying out all night.

I got to play with my greatest hero, Larry Doby. The most I ever learned about the game was from him. He taught me everything I know from how to dress and mix colors to how to become part of the community. Larry made sure he went out into his community and spoke to people. He knew people by name from everyhwere from Kansas City to Washington D.C. Larry would say we’re going to some barbershop in Cleveland or restaurant in Chicago or some friend’s apartment in Detriot. When I first went to Washington D.C., he introudced me to Adam Clyton Powell. He introudced me to Sarah Vaughn, Miles Davis, Count Basie, and Billie Holiday. I had listened to their music on 78s and here was Larry casually introducing me to them. We’d sit down and talk about everything under the sun—all day long. Larry was quiet to people who didn’t know him and never said too much or ventured an opinion. But he’d open up to those he knew well. I knew of his disappointments because I’d ask him…
Of course, Larry couldn’t really teach me much about pitching. But I already knew something about that. You know who gave me the best advice? Satcial Paige. I met him in about 1955, when we both were in the minors, and had some great conversations with him. I asked him what he thought was the most important thing about being a pitcher. He told me, “Young man, you gotta have a titty pitch. If you don’t have a titty pitch, you can’t win.” I asked, “What is a titty pitch?” I thought he was putting me on, getting ready to say something about sex. He ran his hand across his chest and said, “A titty pitch is right here.” Of course, he was right about the need to pitch inside to win the big leagues. He just had a different way of putting it.

Venezuela has for decades been one of the most dependable sources of petroleum for the United States, where industry analysts say the strike has already hurt some refineries and driven up the retail price of gasoline by at least a dime a gallon.

Those shortages will only worsen, and prices continue to rise, if the United States attacks Iraq, they prediceted. That means that war in the Persian Gulf could prove more costly to the American economy than had been projected if the Venezuelan standoff is not ended soon…

“This is an incredibly important moment in Venezuelan history,” a senior State Department offical said. “Things are happening now that are going to affact Venezuela for decades: its energy relationship with the United States, the structure of PDVSA, the integrity and credibility of its democratic instituions—all of these things are at stake.”

But many Latin American experts say the administration’s efforts have been too little, too late. They contend that the Bush Administration, distracted by Iraq, allowed Venezuela’s problems to fester.

…The State Department’s Latin America desk has been leaderless through much of the strike. The last assistant secretary of state for Western Hemispher affairs, Ott J. Reich, was reassinged in November after his temporary appointment expired…

“There is no one at the wheel here, “asserted Moises Naim, the Venezuelan who is the editor of Forgein Policy magazine.”

The impact of the Venezuelan crisss has been widely underestimated by officials and consumers, oild experts said. Venezuela once exported 2.7 million barrels a day, 1.5 million barrels of that going to United States, or about 14 percent of America’s curde oil imports.

Now, Venezuela says it is producing about 600,000 barrels a day, though outside experts estimate the volume at less than 400,000 barrels.

That means that more than two million barrels a day of Venezuelan brude have been removed from the gobal market, making this the worst disruption in supply since the Persian Gulf war of 1991, experts said.

LUCKIEST MAN ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH

Lou Gehrig ain’t got nuthin on me. I received the following e-mail from my girlfriend, Emily, in response to a brief article I posted last week, in which I basically gushed about our baseball-friendly relationship:

Yes you are right, I am excited for the season to begin – an opportunity for me to learn more about the game, as well as another 6 months to watch you perform your rendition of a Mexican jumping bean And hey, how ’bout eating ice cream and having sex all afternoon, WHILE watching baseball? Your mind and body are likely to explode with all that stimulation. Well, at least your body. Mmmmmm.

And you can’t beat that with a baseball bat.

ROBBIE’S RETURN

As dispiriting as Robbie Alomar’s 2002 season was for the Mets, it wasn’t a complete suprise, considering Alomar is considered an overly-sensitive player, and he played on a rutterless team. However, it is just as likely that Alomar will return to form this season, in spite of playing at Shea Stadium. Alomar has traditionally bounced back from his off-years. On top of that, he will be playing for a contract this season. How much more motivation could a Met fan ask for?

Alomar was one of my favorite Yankee-antagonists during the 90’s, and I sure hope to watch him regain his Hall of Fame form this coming season.

Bob Klapisch profiled Alomar in his column yesterday for the Bergan Record:

“I’ve done a lot of thinking, and I know I’m ready for New York now. I know what to expect now with the fans, the media, just New York in general.”
He pauses just long enough for emphasis, then says, “I’m not just going to have a good year. I’m going to have a great year.”

…Alomar will now be paired with Jose Reyes, the 19-year-old prospect who, despite never having played higher than Class AA, will be given the chance to win the shortstop job in spring training. It will be Alomar’s responsibility to mentor the rookie, a task he welcomes. But he says the Mets have to help Reyes assimilate as well.
It’s still a shock to Alomar that the Mets don’t employ a Spanish-speaking coach or have any Spanish-speaking executives. The gap between the club and its Latin players is so wide, Alomar says, “There are players on this team, like Timo [Perez] and [Armando] Benitez, that no one knows about. Those guys are afraid to speak because of the language problems, and that’s not right.”

Alomar is pushing heavily for the Mets to hire his friend, Ray Negron, as the club’s liaison to its Latin players. The Puerto Rican-born Negron once worked for the Yankees, helping Dwight Gooden and Darryl Strawberry battle their drug addictions, and after working with the Indians, where he became friends with Alomar, is now employed by the Rangers.

The Mets are interviewing Negron on Jan. 15, according to Alomar, who says, “This is a guy who can help our clubhouse.”
“We don’t have a bad clubhouse, because we have great guys. But there were some little problems that we had,” Alomar said. “We need to come together, be closer. Ray can help the Spanish guys, because they have no one to speak for them.”

Alomar won’t lie about his self-interest in this matter: Negron was at his side in Cleveland during his best year, 1999, when Alomar batted .323 with 24 home runs and 120 RBI.

Think the Mets aren’t craving such production from Alomar in 2003? If all it takes is hiring a spiritual guru … well, put it this way: when Jason Giambi insisted the Yankees hire his personal trainer, Bob Alejo, last year, the club made him a “batting practice pitcher” in a matter of days.

Of course, Alomar alone can’t rescue the Mets. He hints the club made a mistake allowing Edgardo Alfonzo to leave, and, despite the impressive additions of Glavine and Floyd, says, “We still need another right-handed hitter. Whoever we get at third base has to be able to hit in the middle of our lineup.”

Still, Alomar has every reason to look forward to 2003. As he put it, “All the little things that went wrong, I think that’s in the past now. We’re going to be a good team.”
He says. He hopes. And just for emphasis, he crosses his fingers ever so tightly.

CHOCK FULL OF SPIKE

Here is an item that appeared in the current L.A. Weekly:

Legends: Spike Lee’s Jackie Robinson Moment

It was still a clear and sparkling Sunday at Dodger Stadium, the grass more emerald and the sky more sapphire in the aftermath of a fierce, early winter rain than it could ever hope to be in July. I emerged from the dugout – the dugout! – into all this splendor and breathed deep. I barely took three steps before I heard it.
“Cut!”

I froze. The exasperated yell, brief but unmistakably Brooklyn, echoed off the tens of thousands of empty seats. Spike Lee was filming a commercial, and I had stepped into a live frame.

I was here to observe, but thanks to the oversight of a chatty production assistant and my own distracted reminiscing – I’ve been a blue-bleeding Dodger fan since the late ’70s – I had become inconveniently conspicuous. “This is gonna cost me 10 bucks,” the assistant muttered somewhat cryptically. I was mortified.

But soon I was immersed in watching Lee interview Ralph Branca, one of the very few Brooklyn Dodgers still around who played in 1947, the year Jackie Robinson integrated big-league baseball. That was a famously tough season for Robinson, a season that hit a nadir during a late-summer game in Cincinnati in which the fans, who might have been geographically Midwestern but acted culturally Southern, hurled every epithet imaginable at the second baseman – before the game started. During the pre-game practice Dodger captain Pee Wee Reese, born and raised in Kentucky just across the Ohio River, stopped the proceedings and walked across the field to where Robinson was warming up. Without saying a word, Reese put his arm around Robinson in full view of the hostile crowd. The stadium went silent. It was a hush heard round the world.
This was the moment that Lee was re-creating for his commercial, one in a series of eight for ESPN called “Without Sports. . .” All the spots have played the issue for laughs, with contemporary fans in mind, except this one. “This was a real watershed moment in history,” said the network’s marketing director, Spence Kramer. “It was deeply poignant and affecting. It wasn’t funny at all.”

Lee, a prodigious sports fan with a particular interest in Jackie Robinson, proved a relentless interviewer of Branca, who remains as affable as Lee is intense, though both are direct and economical with words. How did Branca feel about Reese’s gesture that day in Cincinnati? “I thought it was a courageous act,” Branca said. “Pee Wee did it out of friendship and respect. It said ‘Dodgers’ on his uniform. That’s his teammate. That was Pee Wee saying ‘screw you’ to everybody.”

Down on the field I met Lou Johnson, who played for the Dodgers in the ’60s with Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale, and now works in the front office. Johnson is graying but lean and fit, dapper in a black wool baseball jacket and knife-creased slacks. He played a season with the Negro League Kansas City Monarchs in 1955 before the integration led by Robinson killed those leagues off for good.

“I didn’t play with Jackie, but I certainly profited from his act,” said Johnson. “By the ’60s the atmosphere in baseball hadn’t changed that much.” He deplores the decline of baseball as a sport of choice among black youth today; he’s part of an organization called RBI – Reviving Baseball in Inner Cities – that was instrumental in helping to get a South-Central Little League off the ground some years back. “Kids need to know what we had to endure to get to the top,” said Johnson. “Jackie integrated not only baseball, but other sports as well.”

Lee, relaxing ever so slightly on a lunch break, concurred. He was wearing a knit cap, a bleary look and light beard stubble. “His contribution is much bigger than baseball,” he said in his trademark Brooklynese, talking about Robinson. “He changed the American landscape. You can never underestimate the pressure he was under, of having the weight of the race on you.” He paused to think. “The only comparable thing would be Joe Louis versus Max Schmeling, democracy versus the Nazis. Baseball in particular was so American, which is why Negroes weren’t allowed to play for so long. That’s why the moment in this commercial is so pivotal.”

Dodger Stadium in December may sound about as forsaken a place as this city can imagine, but it lives in my affections as a dazzling proxy for a thoroughly inhospitable place where sports history was made. It is odd but logical, just as the Dodgers’ move from east to west turned out to be. As Johnson drove me off the field in a groundskeeper’s cart beneath the bright sun, I silently thanked Robinson for being in some way responsible for this private, pivotal, baseball moment of my own.
-Erin Aubry Kaplan

BETTER PLAY LIKE MICHAEL JACKSON CAUSE THAT SHIT IS OFF THE WALL

Bob Ryan, offers a characteristically spirited take on the proposed addition of seating on top of the Green Monster. Here are some excerpts from his article in today’s Globe:

Larry Lucchino swears the Red Sox have nothing but good intentions. (History majors: Insert the ”Road to Hell” reference you know so well.)
”Our little joke over here is that when the subject is the ballpark, you have to take a sort of Hippocratic oath,” explains the Sox CEO. ”And that oath is `Do no harm.’ Anything we do to Fenway will not tamper with its magic and charm.”

We shall see. All I know is that when someone hits a baseball over The Wall this year there is a good chance a paying customer will catch it. Am I the only one not happy about that?

”I can understand your skepticism,” Lucchino says. ”But I would argue that what we are planning will not change the look and feel of Fenway.”

Damn right, I’m skeptical. The Boston Red Sox really are putting seats atop the left-field wall!

They’re trying to paint it as an appropriate response to some perceived fan demand, but it’s all about M-O-N-E-Y and their desperate attempt to squeeze every available dollar out of their lyric little bandbox of a ballpark, which will celebrate its 91st birthday April 20. Are the Red Sox that desperate for money? Isn’t this John W. Henry guy supposed to be a billionaire, with a ”B”?

The truth is the brass really doesn’t want to talk about The Wall. They’d much rather talk about what’s happening at the other end of the field, and as much as they deserve censure for messing around with the most famous landmark in baseball, that’s how much credit they deserve for their other major offseason building project.

What they’re doing is in keeping with the John W. Henry campaign promise to explore a complete renovation of Fenway Park. ”If this works,” Lucchino says, ”it would tell us that further renovation can work. But we are thinking about both the short term and the long term. Right now our goal is to open up space and give us some walking and breathing room.”

The best thing about this project is that it affects the average fan. This isn’t another high-roller deal like the 600 (excuse me, .406) Club, where all the rich people stand at the bar and clank their jewelry as a ballgame unfolds below. This is for the once-a-year guy and his family, and when’s the last time anyone thought about him?

It takes truly creative thinking to maximize the potential of Fenway Park, which has an architectural ”footprint” of about 750,000 square feet. All new parks have far more space to work with, and that includes San Francisco’s Pac Bell Park, which doesn’t look as big as most of the others, but which checks in at more than a million square feet. That’s where it helps to have someone such as Janet Marie Smith on hand. Her official title is the Red Sox vice president of planning and development, but she is otherwise known as the First Lady of Ballpark Construction and/or Renovation. She was the guiding genius behind the building of Camden Yards, the model for all baseball parks built in the past dozen years.

She is a preservationist at heart, never having seen an exposed brick wall she didn’t love. So she has certainly come to the right place.

Larry Cancro thinks we can trust her, and the Red Sox vice president of sales and marketing considers himself a hard marker. He has been with the team for 18 years, and probably knows the ballpark as well as anyone. He believes the new regime is very respectful of Fenway. ”I think we can make it much more livable and less confining,” he maintains. ”But it won’t be like Yankee Stadium, which was not the same park at all after it was renovated. What we most want is for people to walk in here and feel it’s still Fenway Park.”

That brings us back to those foolish ”Green Monster Seats” they’ll be installing on top of The Wall. Lucchino insists that extensive fan surveys show there is a tremendous demand for them, that people would just kill to be able to say they watched a game from the top of The Wall. Shows you what I know. I would have assumed the Fenway diehards would not want to mess with the look of The Wall, period.

”It won’t be a dramatic change,” insists Lucchino. The plan is for three rows of seats, plus standing room, stretching from the left-field foul pole to the center-field bleachers.
”It won’t be intrusive,” Smith says. ”It’s not a huge section of seats. You’ll just see a few little bobbing heads out there.”

They will be group seats, by the way, and God knows what they’ll charge. I’m sure it will add up to a nice hunk of change, but please don’t tell me it won’t de-Fenway the place to some degree.

The good news is that Lucchino says it is not yet a drop-dead, completely done deal, that all the I’s haven’t been dotted and T’s crossed. He says there is a meeting scheduled for Tuesday with a fan group to get their input.

Maybe he needs to hear from people who like The Wall just the way it is. Where are all those weepy Fenway Forever types when we need them?

COMINGS AND GOINGS

I may not have Shane Spencer to kick around anymore, but if everything falls into place, my girl may just be able to have her favorite girl back in a Mets uniform by opening day.

ESPN has an article on another utility player of note in the New York area, none other than Randy Velarde. I’ve always had a soft spot for Velarde, who came up through the Yankee organization, only to be moved just as they began their championship run. If the Mets sign him to play third, next to my man Rey Sanchez, I just may have to become an official Met fan.

[Velarde] played for the Yankees the first nine years of his career, from 1987 to 1995, and the year after he left them, the Yankees went on a string in which they won four of the next five series.

The string stopped when Velarde rejoined the Yankees midway through the 2001 season.

“I said all along that if we won that year, I would have retired,” he said. “Sometimes it seems like I’m chasing a rainbow that doesn’t have a pot of gold at the end of it.”

“I’ll keep the door open and see if the perfect situation comes up,” he said. “If not, I had a great enough career to hang my hat on, and I’ll know that a world championship just wasn’t in the cards. And I’ll know that I’ve put out every ounce of ability this body could put out.”

For those of you who like to read the obits, Baseball Primer pays tribute to all of the baseball people who passed away in 2002. There were some big names on that list of course, like Ted Williams, Enos Slaughter, Hoyt Wilhelm, Dave McNally, Dick O’Connell, and Jack Buck. But there were some lesser players of note too, including Darryl Kile, Joe Black, Darrell Porter, Johnny Roseboro, Dick “Dr. Strangeglove” Stuart, and Jim Spencer.

On another somber note, Boston Globe columnist, and Boston-native, Wil McDonough passed away last night at the age of 67.

FIRST A FORFEIT, NOW THIS

ESPN reports today that “Commissioner Bud Selig will probably brief owners next week on his plan to have the league that wins the All-Star game gain home-field advantage in the World Series.”

David Pinto offers an excellent critique of yet another dud from Bud:

I don’t buy it. I don’t know that there is any great league pride in the World Series. I bet most Red Sox fans root against the Yankees when the Yankees are in the fall classic. Can you imagine Red Sox fans saying, “Go out and play your butt off Nomar so the Yankees can have home field in October!” Plus, what does the All-Star Game have to do with anything? It’s a bit of fun in the middle of summer. You will have injustices like a team winning 103 games having to play on the road to a Wild Card team that won 85 games. If you think home field is important to the series, then make home field based on season record. If you want to invigorate the All-Star Game, pay a huge bonus to the players on the team that wins. (Winner gets $200,000 for each player, loser gets nothing.) Then you’ll see some competition, and you won’t see many all-stars opting out.