It Takes More Than Balls

5/22/08 - BASEBALL WORSHIP IS SERIOUS BUSINESS... TO SOME

2008-05-22T16:52:10Z

Last Sunday was a big deal for my family. My daughter, Amelia, 7, got her First Communion at St. Therese Catholic Church in Seattle. Now, my husband and I never considered ourselves particularly religious - and, honestly, probably bordering on the religiously apathetic - but I've gone to church with my daughter just about every Sunday since January because she wanted to get Communion. I warned her... that she'd have to pony-up and start going to church.... but she was not deterred. So, I was there , too. (Father and son, 6, sleep in and watch cartoons.) Anyway, there was a party, etc., etc. she got cards and presents.

What does all of this have to do with baseball? Well, there are many who consider baseball a religion. We've all probably heard that mentioned in jest. But there are those churches that have "baseball worship services." I heard about them a while back and just decided to delve into the topic more thoroughly. And I found some pretty interesting stuff.

For starters, a decade ago there was a church in northern Georgia that narrowly averted legal action brought on by confused parishioners when the sermon revolved around baseball. This public rebuke was met with an apology from the priest in charge, who was probably equally confused. But, it's his job to know his flock, yes? I wonder if MLB would have sent in a team of lawyers to defend the guy.

Here's a time where the readings in a sermon adapted a passage from the book of Romans in the New Testament. The reverend used some baseball terminology: "And so, fellow teammates, I plead with you to give your team to God. Let them be willing to make a holy sacrifice--the kind deep in the outfield. When you think of what God has done for you, is this too much to ask? Don't copy the behavior and customs of the other team, but let God transform you into a new player by changing the way you think. Then you will know what God wants you to do and you will know how good and pleasing and perfect his coaching really is." (Romans 12:1-2 NRBV - New Revised Baseball Version)

In fact, the guy who wrote that adaptation, Rev. Larry Davies, included a portion of it in his book, Live The Light, where members of his church face-off in a game against some of the game's iconic players.

If you have a subscription to the New York Times, you might find this article interesting (if you don't have a subscription, you can read the beginning paragraph, which is also cool, and may entice you to get a subscription...) It is from 1912 and a church's annual baseball worship service. Some of the New York Giants were in attendance. Probably just covering their bases. Ok. That was pretty bad. I'll be here through Thursday, folks.

More recently, however, a writer drew comparisons to how the changes in his church are akin to the changes in how kids now like soccer over baseball (his assertion). Soccer, he said, is faster, and along with the added movement, there is more excitement. He looked at how his church could adapt and become more like soccer and less like baseball.

5/1/08: April's been berry, berry good to me

2008-05-01T16:57:44Z

April was our long-awaited (by us) book launch. It was the culmination of four years of thought, execution, near-executions and family neglect. (Check out the book at www.TheSavvyGirls.com)

How did we celebrate? On April 1, release date, Jackie and I drove around Seattle and took pictures of our book in various stores. Total dorks. Thank God we found eachother.

By the end of the month, we had this great article by Doug Miller, senior writer for MLB.com. It was featured, front-and-center, on the MLB.com website. Don't believe us? Here's the screen shot. I had to take it, knowing that these things are fleeting:

Thanks, Doug. He's a Seattle-guy, too, but likely got wind of us from our own Mark at MLB.com HQ in NYC. You both rock. Specifically, Doug's retelling of our interview w/ a bonehead "sports reporter" was fun to read. I blogged about the guy earlier this week in "Dark Interview in the Dark."

This month, we also had a couple book launch parties. Jackie's good at many things but one thing she truly excels at is party planning.

One party included a tour of Safeco Field (my 6 y.o. son tried to pick the lock of the snack machine in the visitor's locker room) followed by a public party at Pyramid Brewery, directly across from the stadium. The night was capped with an intimate "after party" with us standing in the rain w/ our two husbands along Seattle's Alki Beach and cracking a bottle of Dom Perignon that Jackie and John had saved for a special moment. Glad this rated.

Then we had a more private shindig red velvet-clad "Grotto," which is really the basement of The Renezvous bar on 2nd Ave in Seattle's hip Belltown neighborhood. Here's me caught stealing some cake...

We are starting our book tour in a month w/ a event with the Washington Nationals on 6/5. This is especially nice for me because it was my old stomping grounds. Well, not exactly Southeast D.C. where the new stadium is... (When I was a teen, we were instructed never to go to SE and, if we were ever lost there, we were encouraged to run red lights) But, I hear "revitalization," etc., etc. born from the Nats new park have made the place a little nicer. I'll see in a month and report back.

Us and some friends at the Grotto party.

D&J in front... w/ Dave at top far left, Tim, John (Jackie's squeeze), Andrew (Tim's squeeze) and Michael (D's squeeze). Yes, we need to find Dave a squeeze...

4/29/08: The Crying Game

2008-04-30T02:21:14Z

Today, if you were to have tagged "sex" and "sports" and "extortion" you would have hit a trifecta.

I'll start with the boring story: Roger Clemens and his ten-year fling with a country music singer who seems intent on throwing him under the bus just so she can revive her "career." A person he first saw when he was pitching for the Red Sox and the 15-year-old was singing karoke in a Boston bar. Ok, not a bad open.

Sill, Ho hum. What else do you got?

Well, I think the really salacious news is that international soccer star Ronaldo was caught in a hotel room with not ONE, not TWO, but THREE blackmailing transvestite prostitutes. Not that being a transvestite prostitute is illegal, at least not in Brazil. And I'm not even sure that blackmail is illegal in Brazil... It should be said that he was able to keep up his masculine image when it came to light that he tried to break-off the "menage a'.... quatre" (?!) as soon as he found out the prostitutes were men.

The Brazillian footballer plays for AC Milan and they are nearing the equivalent of the "playoffs" so, don't expect any suspensions. Not because of his transgression. But because Italians could care less about his sex life.

One of the transvestites (not too bad, I guess)------------>>

RONALDO RUNNING FOR THE BRAZILIAN NATIONAL TEAM:

2008-04-29T13:55:33Z

THE BOOK

A Nice Gift for Mother's Day!
(click to order)

4/28/08: Statto? Stats? Mars? Venus? Can't We All Just Get Along?

2008-04-29T02:56:11Z

An article (click here for link) appeared in last week's Sunday Edition of a Wales newspaper in the UK that talked about the differences between men and women in the Wide World of Statistics. Could it be that there is truly a difference? And is it on gender lines?

It seems that the writer of the article chose to frame the idea in sexual terms, if you may... I'm not so sure about that argument but there are some good points...

One such:

"Sports fans of limited knowledge but acute perceptiveness sometimes have far deeper insights about the game than people who are unhealthily obsessed ... The difference between an 'expert' and a 'mere fan' revolves around knowledge - who knows the most. But many of the characteristics which really separate sports fans have nothing to do with degrees of learning. Instead, they derive from differences in temperament."

-- quoted from: What Sport Tells Us About Life, Ed Smith

OK, "limited knowledge" and "acute perceptiveness" equate to deeper insights? Remember that, guys, when you are arguing with the Missus. They may throw that at you.

BUT THIS ALSO is a good point...

From the same book, Smith says there are those that "just love a bloody good argument" and those that watch "a match like a reader gripped by the narrative of a novel, simply wondering what will happen next." This, I get.

In our book, we don't say that people are obsessed -- though they may well be. But that term just seems to so negative. To me, those that can recite stats from teams of decades ago are hobbists. Tracking baseball can be a worthwhile and fulfilling hobby, much like playing the piano is for me or playing baseball is for others. Are hobbists greater fans? Not by my definition. Most certainly they are a different type of fan. And, really, who cares about the pecking order of fans, anyway?

Now, since this is my blog, and we're on this topic, here's a nugget from the intro of our book, It Takes More Than Balls: The Savvy Girls' Guide to Understanding and Enjoying Baseball (link)

"...Baseball is just fine without its fans having to create unnecessary pecking orders. Other forms of entertainment seem to thrive without such jostling. After all, symphony regulars usually don't discredit occasional attendees with remarks like, "Mildred! Get this guy behind us. He came to this concert without knowing that Beethoven bridged the classical and romantic periods! The savage!"

So, how about you? Do you enjoy going to a baseball game and eating a hot dog, drinking a cold beer, and feeling the warm sun on your back? Great! Do you enjoy knowing the statistics of the opposing team's pitchers? More power to you! There are fans who like to score entire games and those who want to score only half. There are those who come late and those who leave early--no harm, no foul. We've filled all these roles at one time or another. There are a lot of things going on a baseball game, and it's any fan's privilege to soak in as little or as much as they please on any given day..."

So, how about you?

"Dark" Interview in the Dark

2008-04-24T19:53:03Z

When a radio interviewer's first question is: "So, tell me, what are you girls wearing?" you know it's not a regular day at the office. This is exactly what happened to me and Jackie last night. As soon as we heard his opening gambit, we looked at each other and shook our heads. Promoting our new baseball book (It Takes More Than Balls) often lands us in the most unlikely places.

So, this is how it's going to be, I thought.

I was immediately thankful for having had a couple drinks in me. Of course, we handled the onslaught with grace and humor. Growing up with big brothers, we learned how to go toe-to-toe with guys -- we're not afraid to mix it up and can definitely dish it out. This doesn't mean that we really enjoyed it, especially when coupled with sexual innuendo. Here's a gem that our host, "Dark Star," came up with: "Answer me this, ladies: why do women say they want to sleep with you when they don't really want to 'sleep?' You know. They want to do anything but 'sleep,' right? So why say you want 'sleep' with someone? Get it? Heh. Heh. Get it?"

Yea. We get it.

And to think we ducked out of a baseball game for this? And an exciting one, too: It was the bottom of the ninth and the Mariners were trailing the Orioles by one run, none out, with Rauuuuuul Ibanez on first. But we diligently did what our publicist told us to do and that was to call-in to a Minneapolis talk show called "Sports Tonight with Dark Star" at 9:30PM. We went down to the Mariners front office and walked into the Ellis Pavilion, an event space in the stadium where we could have a quiet conversation with our radio host. It was a huge space and a couple stadium workers were sitting in the dark catching the waning moments of the game on one of the TV sets hanging from the ceiling. Jackie and I found a big table in a far corner of the space and turned on the lights.

Before the interview the producer got some administrative work out of the way by letting us know that we should call the host, "Dark" instead of "Mr. Star." ... During the course of the interview, which ranged from if we chose the book's title (we didn't) to whether we drink beer at games (we do), the Mariners had lost. Then a stadium worker, who probably never knew we were there, turned the lights off on us. Then on. Then off. Then on. Then off. We stifled giggles and were left sitting in total darkness in the back corner of a huge 600-person conference space. We wondered if someone would kick us out (they didn't) or if we'd be locked in (we weren't). Or if "Dark" would get excited to learn that we were talking to him while sitting in the dark (likely).

We wrapped-up the interview and met our husbands at Hooverville, a bar just south of Safeco Field where they were playing darts. A few more drinks later and my husband and I were in an argument over whether not pinch running for Ibanez in the bottom of the ninth was a bad management decision. It was heated. We'd had drinks. You know the drill.

So, how did we answer that first "what are you wearing" question? I wanted to answer "boots." But it was Jackie who stepped up to the plate: "Well...uh, Dark, we just left the game for this interview and it's freezing outside. I'm wearing a down jacket." And she was. Had our host been on the ball, however, he would have got the real story. That is, what was she wearing underneath?

(In the bottom of the 9th, while we were being "interviewed," our husbands and friends donned the "rally cap!" We miss all the fun! -- photo care of Jon Wells)

WHAT IF IT'D BEEN A TAMPA BAY JERSEY?

2008-04-16T05:24:22Z

Why can't they bury the hatchet?
Because the Yankees would probably dig it up.

This week is a good example of someone who talked too much. Gino Castignoli is a Red Sox fan living in the Bronx and was a contractor assigned - for one day - help build the new Yankees' stadium. He thought it would be funny to try to cast a curse on the stadium by burying a Red Sox shirt in the concrete of the stadium, a la Jimmy Hoffa (not that I know anything about any of that). He actually succeeded! But then he blabbed. Why not just bury the Ortiz shirt and shaddup about it? But this guy bragged. The conversation probably started something like "Hey! I did something wicked awesome...." and it quickly digressed into the undoing of one of the greatest hoaxes-that-never-was.

Then, in an awkward and expensive display of humorless leadership, the Yankees had some guys spend five hours last Sunday jackhammering away two feet of concrete so they could pull out the shirt, which was in tatters by the time the jackhammer spit it out. Not that I really blame them for digging it up. Why take a chance on something like a shirt buried under what is slated to be a restaurant? After having pulled out the offending shirt it will now be auctioned off to the Jimmy Fund, a Boston-based charity. How sweet.

Yankees President Randy Levine said that the team might press charges because what Gino did was a "very, very bad act." Burying a shirt isn't a bad thing. Unless, of course, you believe in curses. Then, indeed, it would be a very, very bad thing. So, does Levine actually think that Gino had the ability to curse the Yankees? Nah, that couldn't be. But, dig up the shirt, anyway. You know, just in case.

To me, there the other question missing an answer is: What if it had been a Tampa Bay Rays shirt?

BASEBALL'S BIZARRO WORLD

2008-04-10T23:48:00Z

Let's look at our two childhood teams: Jackie's Detroit Tigers and my Baltimore Orioles. The Tigers were supposed to buzz saw their way through the league and the Orioles were supposed to be, well, the timber. But this week has been interesting, hasn't it?

After giving up 39 runs in the first six games, the Tigers finally got a win last night in Boston, but still gave up five runs. Hey, Jackie's not complaining: it's a win. (And I'm not complaining, either, she brought over the wine last night.) And, in tonight's rubber-match, the Tigers could get the better of 41-year-old Tim Wakefield in his first start of the year. He's been working with new catcher, Kevin Cash, 30, who will probably amount to be little more than one of the worst hitters in the league who can corral a knuckleball. Cash replaced Doug Mirabelli (another terrible hitter) over spring training. Will Detroit's baesrunners be primed to take advantage of some passed balls? Perhaps. I'd say, "Go Tigers!" but Boston is another one of my childhood teams and rooting against them would result in me being cut out of my family's will, which is Boston-based. There won't be much money there but the Linguica futures are looking good, especially with a "Silva" pitching in the league (even though he's from Venezuela, not Portugal, as The Family would prefer).

And, thanks in part to a four-game sweep of our local team, the Seattle Mariners, the Baltimore Orioles (my adopted childhood team) are looking like the buzzsaw to be buzzed with. This week, at least. Maybe all that off-season trade drama will amount to something? After losing to Tampa Bay (yes, you read that right) in the home opener, the O's went on a six-game tear, scoring 38 runs. They are going into a double-header w/ Texas today after yesterday's game was postponed. And now they are 2.5 games ahead in the AL East? What gives? Who cares? I can say "Go Orioles!" with out reprisal from The Family. And, as an Orioles fan, I know when it's time to enjoy. They are fleeting.

But, back to Detroit for a moment. Because I feel for Jackie because her team is looking really ugly and they are supposed to look great. Sure, it's the opening days of the season. They'll get over it just as the Tigers will get over this slump. But what will they all do if the Tigers come back losers off of this roadtrip? Well, Detroit fans all have the United States Bowling Congress Women's Championships happening in nearby Canton this week. It's no secret that bowling is really Detroit's first love, anyway... Hmmm, baseball and bowling. Sounds like Detroit is a "Bizzaro World" all unto itself.

OPENING DAY, SAVVY GIRL STYLE

2008-04-04T21:52:25Z

Today was a Big Day capping off a Big Week. I was up at 5:30 this morning talking with our publisher in NYC about some really exciting endorsements coming up The Savvy Girls Pike - one from a recent Hall of Fame player inductee. Don't worry, we'll keep you posted on that front. We're so giddy now that it's hard to keep quiet on it...As for the week? It was Opening Day for most of the country's MLB cities and I got to see a MLB player with the name "Silva" on the back of his shirt -- and he played well. But this was also our book launch week! On Tuesday, Jackie and I spent the day driving around to book stores and actually seeing our book on the shelves. In many cases, it was not only on the shelves but were featured on the store's baseball "tables," which is fancy book-industry terminology for where they put baseball books that the store is featuring. Don't believe us? We have pictures! And we have video, too. The footage is of us finding our book for the first time and clinking martini glasses. I know, I know... so out of character.

Tomorrow is our book launch party at Pyramid Brewery. We have about 100 people joining us at the soiree where we'll be meeting lots of new people, selling our scorebook journal, our t-shirts and our books. We're very excited to start the "have fun and have a party" segment of the book-making program... But we still have events w/ the Detroit Tigers, NY Mets, Mariners and Washington Nationals coming up. Never thought it would happen but we're glad it did. And we're glad that tomorrow's a day to celebrate!

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THE SYMPHONY WORKOUT

2008-03-28T02:55:04Z

Jane Fonda, eat your heart out. Sure, some of the big guys are already playing ball in Japan but, for me, baseball season begins when I walk into the stadium. I train for that moment. I need to be in top form for Monday's game when Jackie and I join several friends for a day’s worth of ditching work and other responsibilities where we act like we have nothing better to do than enjoy a few midday drinks, trip over curbs and, for those who partake in such footwear, catch our high heels in sidewalk grates.

So, specifically, you might wonder, what have I done to prepare for baseball season? Last night was a perfect example. I was at the symphony to catch one of the worlds most prodigious pianists in recital.

At intermission, I’d arranged to meet two friends over glasses of champagne, which I’d ordered for all of us before the concert even began (this, so that we wouldn’t have to wait in the intermission line that the rookies queue up in.) All day it drove me crazy that my friends had better seats than my date and I had. We sat in my regular season ticket seats in row FF while my friends were rubbing elbows with the swank patrons in row N – twenty rows closer. As we chat and giggle over our bubbly, I mention once again to my friend that I helped select the better seats and she perks up: “Hey, there are two empty seats right next to us!” (Are you thinking what I was thinking?) “Jen,” I say, in my best incredulous manner. “Do you think we’re at a ballgame, or something? Are you suggesting that we seat hop at the symphony?” How crude! We all shrugged. I looked around the lobby's atrium. Had anyone heard us?

The four of us downed our drinks and proceeded past my bush-league seats in row FF, heading straight for the black Steinway positioned at the middle of the stage. It was like sneaking past that usher at the ballpark and I was nervous. Was someone going to ask for my ticket? I tried to act natural. Head up, D, walk purposefully. Smile and nod. We followed our friends to the plush seats in the middle of row N. “Excuse me, ma’am,” I said to the woman behind me as I handed her the coat that was carelessly tossed over “my” seat. Boy, did I act the part. For the woman behind me, it was like those days at the baseball park when you feel like you’ll have some extra space to spread out your limbs and belongings until some philistine shows up in the fifth inning and asks you to get your feet off of his seat. But, the difference here was that it wasn’t my seat and I was still fool enough to feel entitled.

I’ll spare the suspense because we weren't booted. This doesn’t mean I had fun, of course. I was twitchy nervous between every piece – that’s when the ushers allowed late arrivals into the concert hall. Once a couple stopped at the end of row N and looked at their tickets, counted seats, whispered and pointed. I kept my head down. I did not smile. I did not nod. They walked to an usher before moving along to another section. But it was too late for me. I had already died a thousand deaths.

So, there’s some of my training. It could be said that I faced far worse consequences at the symphony than seat-hoppers face at the ballpark, where such behavior is often tolerated with a wink and a sideways smirk. Still, I found hopping at the symphony is not terribly different from the tactics used at the ballpark. Not that I’ve ever been barbarian enough to pull such a stunt at a ballpark … not as a straight-thinking mature-acting adult, at least. But, if called upon to behave in such a boorish manner, I’m now prepared. Thanks to my rigorous training regimen.