MLB Needs Pujols to go Triple

When Albert Pujols hits a home run, it's like seeing a high-speed-head-on collision. Everything is in slow motion. The pitcher realizes the ball's fate and mouths an explitive just before the crash. The explosion sounds like windows blowing out. When the dust finally settles, Pujols is seen trotting around the destruction he's caused.

Let's get this out of the way: Pujols is the best player in baseball. He surpassed A-Rod years before Alex's cousin bought a GNC gift bag from the Dominican. Somewhere between Pujols's World Series ring, his .425 on-base percentage (A-rod's is .389) and the Roberto Clemente Award, Pujols snuck up and stole the crown.

For all the home runs Pujols hits, he has never struck out more than 100 times (Alex has done it 12 times), batted below .314 or hit less than 30 doubles.

What more can The Machine do? Maybe he could try to lead the league in stolen bases or sacrafice bunts. It would be wierder than the season Wilt Chamberlain led the NBA in assists, but I'm sure he could do it. Rather than that, he could fill his name in above Carl Yastrzemski's as the last player to hit for the Triple Crown.


In 1967, Yastrzemski hit 44 home runs, drove in 121 and batted .326. He was the last to lead the league in all three categories.


Now that home run numbers are coming back to Earth (except in stadiums built with "slots") Pujols has a chance. Phat Al has finished in the top 10 in all three categories each season of his career, including career highs of .359, 49 and 137.


Pujols, who currently leads the league in home runs and RBI, and sports a batting average of .348, is the only player with the potential to end Yaz's 41 year reign.


Yaz's streak speaks to the beauty of baseball. The game suffered from 20 scandal-filled years of Hulk-Hogan-like homer hitters breaking legendary records, and yet, no one lead the league in batting average, home runs and runs batted in.


If Pujols leads the Triple Crown race come September, maybe those disgruntled by the steroid-era would forgive, the same way Big Mac and Sosa healed open wounds from the '94 players strike. Only this time, the other shoe wouldn't drop a few years later.


If ever baseball needed a (clean) hero, it's now. Peter Gammons reported earlier this year MLB attendance could drop anywhere from 17 to 20 percent this season. The 2008 World Series set the record for lowest TV ratings ever with 8.4. In the 1970's, that number never dipped below 24.


Who would make a better hero than the Roberto Clemente Award winner? Pujols won the award in '08 for his charity work to benefit those with Down Syndrome as well as his contributions to the Dominican Republic. Pujols, whose daughter has Down Syndrome, said it was the greatest honor of his career.

Only two things can stop Pujols from winning the Triple Crown: bases on balls and Ryan Howard.

Pujols has been walked 16 times in 19 games so far this season. Cubs manager Lou Pinella said he planned on walking Albert any time he came up with runners in scoring position. Pujols walked 104 times last season, he's used to it, but those BB's may stunt RBI's if he isn't allowed to bat with runners on third base.

Ryan Howard, who averages 51 home runs per season over the last three years, plays in the National League, so it will be difficult for Pujols to top him in home runs. Howard benefits from a miniature ballpark and getting to face the Mets starting rotation 20 times a year. Howard's upper cut is also more home run friendly than Pujols's line-drive-hitting style. To illustrate, Howard had 26 doubles last season, Pujols had 44.


Only 13 players have won baseball's Triple Crown since 1900. None would be more important to baseball than if Pujols did it this season. Major League Baseball needs something big enough to bring fans back into seats as well as regaining trust in their heroes.

Goodell to Vick: "I WANT REMORSE!"

Goodell to Vick


Michael Vick. Every time I think of him, I always think of the song "Threw it all away" by Bob Dylan. Instead of having a woman in his life that made him think he had the world just right, it's Vick having fans making his jersey the most purchased. It was having numerous endorsements. It was being the best player to have gone to Virginia Tech. It was being the Madden 2004 cover athlete. It was being in his late twenties and having millions of dollars and being the face of the Falcons franchise. Now, it's all gone.

Now, Vick finds himself spending time in a federal prison on a 23 month prison term for dogfighting. He finds himself having to hire lawyers, who are not necessarily cheap, to go to bankruptcy court to fight for Vick, saying he will earn millions again. He finds himself looking to having to go to a home confinement program once he is out of prison. He finds himself, most likely separated from greatness, from fans, from being the new type of quarterback.

His life is starting to sound like "Les Miserable". As soon as he leaves prison, Roger Goodell, The Sheriff of the NFL, wants to talk to Vick and his lawyers, to see how he has adjusted since being in a federal prison. Goodell as he said at a panel discussion at Washington & Lee University said, "I will want to meet with other professionals to understand: does he understand the mistakes he made and is he genuine and have remorse for those actions and is he prepared to handle himself differently going forward. That will ultimately be my decision."

This is what troubles me. Michael Dwayne Vick will no longer say that he was a Pro Bowl quarterback, it will say he was a former quarterback with a criminal record for running a dog fighting business at his home. You go to wikipedia and there is more on his dog fighting charges than his playing career or any of his other achievements in life.

I don't want to come across as someone who condones dog fighting or believe that he needed punishment. Vick did deserve justice from the legal system and he got it. My main concern is Goodell wants to have a sit down like some P.C. preschool teacher after giving Mikey a time out and wants to ask him why he went to prison and to apologize and give back the stuffed dog to brother Marcus. Like Jean Valjean, Vick spent a large amount of time in prison (given for his profession). His earnings are going to be lower than prior to his incarceration. Why does Goodell need to have a talk with Vick? It's not like he is going to get involved in dog fighting again, because if he is caught he will be locked up for years.

Even when Vick comes back, who will want him? The Falcons have said that they have "closed the book" on Vick and that Matt Ryan is their quarterback. Will Vick even be a starter? Being away from the game for two years, many teams will question if he has lost anything. Granted I could see Vick being a better signal caller than the Bills quarterback system, but would the team even consider Vick at all?

Roger Goodell is not satisfied. He wants to be absolutely positive that Michael Vick has learned his lesson. Pac-Man Jones obviously learned his lesson and all he did was go to strip clubs whenever a loaded gun was present. Shawne Merriman learned his lesson and he did was used steroids. Though Michael Vick must go through hell again to please Goodell because losing not only respect, losing his money and losing his freedom for two years was not enough. While the image of the NFL should not be too worried about a closed case such as Vick's they should really worry about their on the field issues instead.

What Michael Vick did was wrong, but let's move on.

ROC SPORTS NET 2009

Get out and do something!

I was watching one of those morning news shows today and the topic was child obesity. They had this kid on who is 12 years old and weighs 250 pounds. I found it amazing that we can have kids weigh at that size. I mean, two of me could fit in this kid. Granted I weigh less than some high school girls (140 lbs) but still, what happened here.

Well, the morning show had all these doctors who root the problem to poor parenting and poor food choices. While some of this is true, I still think that as a nation that is horribly out of shape and poorly educated, I blame the schools.

At this time, I still want to blame the parents for not working on proper nutrition and getting their kids to actually do something (a bike ride didn't kill anybody). The blame is equally with our educational system, not challenging kids to not only develop a strong brain but also a strong body.

I am a product of the modern education system, where the State of New York is worried more about me passing a test at the end of the year rather than actually learning anything. At the same time, they could care less if I can run a mile in under 10 minutes, just as long as I didn't die of a coronary at the Regents.

Schools don't care about gym, it takes too much money away. While President Obama talks about trying to create better schools for America, he should also consider improving the curriculum for gym as well. School districts should take note too. Especially since studies have proved that physically active kids do better in school.

During my junior and senior years in high school (2003-2004) our gym classes were changed from regular P.E. (playing kickball or floor hockey) to strength and conditioning classes. Our teacher was a former minor league baseball player who not only directed us on building strength. He also taught us how our bodies work and how to treat them so we didn't suffer injuries. Then every couple of weeks we had to run a mile. If you ran under 10 minutes you passed, if not you failed. Since I was on the baseball team and ran cross country, along with others in the class, we had 8 minutes to get in. Needless to say, when I ran a 6:40 mile, I was happy. Not only was it the end of the mile, it also helped build habits I still do today.

As the summer approaches in Rochester, I will be making daily trips to Dryer Road park, playing roller hockey for at least an hour. Not only will I get my daily dose of vitamin D but also burn off calories created from late night drinking and that trip to Taco Bell. I can easily attribute that to thinking of missing that mile goal of under 8 minutes. I know it has helped me avoid gaining weight in college (I lost weight from late night basketball games) but also helped me avoid having a healthy blood pressure and cholesterol.

Oh and did I mention that we had gym only once a week in high school. So imagine if we made gym mandatory, everyday in schools. We could nip that childhood obesity trend in the bud. We could limit childhood diabetes and other harmful health problems in children. So parents, get up and do something with the kids, go bike riding, learn how to ice skate. GET OFF YOUR BUTT AND MOVE!!! You will live longer... healthier.


ROC SPORTS NET 2009

When is Larry Doby Day?

Watching Major League Baseball April 15, 2009, you never would have known Larry Doby existed. April 15 is Jackie Robinson day. It isn't Larry Doby day, Roy Campanella day, Roberto Clemente day or Josh Gibson day. It's Jackie Robinson day.

Every April 15, Major League players and coaches all wear No. 42 in honor of Robinson. The problem is that in celebrating Jackie Robinson day, a battery of trailblazers get left in the former-Dodger's dust.

The Cleveland Indians sent Larry Doby to bat July 5, 1947, less than four months after Robinson debuted. It was the first time a black player took the field in an American League game. Doby stepped to the plate 6301 more times in his next 12 seasons as a Major Leaguer. He was elected to the all-star team seven times, won a World Series in 1948 and led the league in home runs twice.

Doby also served in the U.S. Military, spending two years in the Navy.

But, like Buzz Aldrin's moon landing, nobody seems to care who was second. Major League Baseball seems to think Jackie Robinson was the only black player who was called "nigger" or received death threats. The truth is, Larry Doby was spit on when he slid into second base. He was forced to sleep in a separate hotel from his teammates. And just like Robinson, he didn't fight back, he just played baseball.


Those who have visited baseball's Hall of Fame can view racist and life-threatening fan letters to Hank Aaron from when Aaron was approaching Babe Ruth's home run record.


Before debuting in 1954 with the Atlanta Braves, Aaron played in the Negro Leagues to get noticed. He spent '52 and '53 with the Braves minor league club the Jacksonville Tars. In Florida, Jim Crow laws still existed, forcing Aaron to be segregated from his teammates and make his own food and lodging arrangements.



Aaron's father once said, "When Henry came up, I heard fans yell, 'Hit that nigger. Hit that nigger.' Henry hit the ball up against the clock. The next time he came up, they said 'Walk him, walk him."

Jackie Robinson day in Major League Baseball doesn't just ignore Doby, Aaron and other early black big-leaguers like three-time MVP Roy Campanella, it ignores the other races that make up MLB. A 2005 report by the University of Central Florida said 8.5 percent of MLB players are black, 28.7 percent are Latino and 2.5 percent are Asian.

Why isn't No. 21 retired? Roberto Clemente was the first Latin player elected into the Hall of Fame. He is a two-time World Series champion, 12-time Gold-Glove right fielder and member of the 3,000 hit club. And more importantly, Clemente was an incredible human being.

The Pirates star was killed in a plane accident while en route to deliver aid to earthquake victims in Nicaragua. In a recent interview, Clemente's son perfectly described his father's impact. "My father was the 87th Latino to be in the major leagues, but he was the first one to be able to speak up and become an activist, not only in baseball, but in society."

Here's another suggestion: How about a day to comemorate the players who were never given the chance to play Major League Baseball. A Josh Gibson day. Every player could wear a Negro League jersey.

With the emergence of Asian players, maybe MLB should have a Masanori Murakami day. Murakami was the first Japanese player. The left hander struck out 100 Major League batters between 1964-65.

MLB could have 162 "days" to celebrate all the players who have shaped baseball. What I'd really like to see next April 15 is players wearing the jersey name and number of the player who influenced them most. Before the game, there could be a ceremony where each player explains to the crowd why they chose their jersey-for-a-day.

This way, Jackie would get mentioned -Yankees second baseman Robinson Cano was named after Jackie and wears No. 24 because he can't wear 42. And at the same time, appropriate tribute could be given to those like Doby and Clemente.

Adenhart's death a lesson to athletes

I recognized the feeling.

Watching John Lackey and Tori Hunter stand on the pitchers mound at Angel Stadium in Los Angeles, each holding a shoulder of Nick Adenhart's No. 34 jersey, I remembered how it felt April 29, 2007, the day St. Louis Cardinal pitcher Josh Hancock died.

Everything looked eerily familiar. The patch on the shoulder of each player, the memorial outside the stadium and 25 hats over hearts.

Once again, I felt the confusion. The sinking feeling in my gut that surely will take weeks to leave. The hope that I won't have to feel this way again.

Hancock died after driving into a utility truck while driving drunk. Adenhart was killed by a drunk driver last Thursday night after his first Major League start.

In rehashing Hancock's death, I thought about Commissioner Bud Selig's immediate comments: "He was a fine young pitcher who played an important role in last year's world championship team."

What's interesting - and maddening - about Selig's statement is that he only mentions Hancock as a player, not a person. He finds a way to plug the league's championship, and does not bring up alcohol's role in the accident or in Major League Baseball.

Adenhart's death was caused by a drunk driver, but since the driver wasn't a star left fielder, the issue of professional athletes drinking and driving remains in the shadows.

After Hancock's death, 14 teams banned alcohol in the clubhouse. A nice gesture, but pretty transparent. The move was a pre-emptive one to say "look, it's not our fault." The book Moneyball more accurately paints the portrait. The book sites the story of Oakland A's owner Billy Beane, who when discussing drafting a player who is anti-drinking says that the player should "have another career in mind."

What Billy Beane and Bud Selig don't seem to have in mind is alcohol awareness programs for players. There is some irony in the fact that the guy who helps you find your seat has more training on alcohol than the guy whose jersey you are wearing. In 2003, the staffs of 28 Major League teams attended alcohol management training. Thus far, Google search for "alcohol awareness for MLB players" comes up empty.

Just before taking his place in center field Friday night, Tori Hunter jogged out to touch the newly painted picture of Adenhart on the center field wall. Hunter said before the game that his perspective on life has been changed by the loss. Watching Hunter, I couldn't help but think, "is it really?" Will Adenhart's death prevent a professional athlete from drinking and driving? Will any player say to himself, "I could have been Andrew Gall0 (the drunk driver who hit Adenhart's vehicle)?"

During my afternoon commute to work, my mind was fixed on Adenhart's story. Adenhart was 22-years old, I am 22. I kept thinking, "What if that was me?" Over and over. Every stop sign, I looked twice. Every green light, the same.

Questions came pouring into my mind. After twisting through all the questions that usually surround death, the questions took a new form. They began to circle around a theme : If it had been an athlete killing a civilian, would we know his name the way we now know Nick's?

The coverage of two contrasting stories, that of Adenhart and of Cleveland Browns wide receiver Donte Stallworth would suggest they wouldn't. In mid-March, Stallworth was driving drunk when he struck and killed a pedestrian. I heard about it on ESPN, saw the headline in the newspaper, but until today, did not know the man's name who Stallworth had killed.

It was 59-year old Mario Reyes. Why didn't I know that? Because instead of Reyes's picture on the front page, it was Stallworth's. Same goes for ESPN. We didn't see his family or friends crying the way we did Adenhart's. Professional athletes never see the consequences. They never see Mario Reyes's family's press conference. They never see the pain they can potentially cause when driving drunk.

I can only hope that Nick's death will open eyes. That losing one of their own will inspire a multi-millionaire athlete to call a taxi. That seeing Scott Boras - a man most often thought of somewhere in between a snake and Johnny Cochran - break down in tears will cause someone to get a designated driver.

I have to admit, Adenhart's death struck me for another reason. About seven years ago, my father was hit by a drunk driver. The driver swerved into my father's lane, causing him to slam his car into a guard rail, avoiding major contact. This week reminded me of how close I was to not having my dad.

I now realize I was given a glimse that night of how Mario Reyes's and Nick Adenhart's families must feel. This was the man who took me to Skydome for my first Major League game, the man that taught me how to throw a pitch, how to write a column and how to be a man. And he was that close to being gone because of drunk driving.

When Scott Boras broke down, I cried. I cried because Nick Adenhart will never throw another pitch. I cried because Mario Reyes's family had to cry. I cried because drinking and driving came so close to taking my father. And I cried because I know I will cry again.

In 2006, there were more than 16,000 alcohol-related fatalities. In the 2009 drunk-driving statistical report, Nick Adenhart's name will be on the list. Life, as the game of baseball, will carry on. But maybe, because of this tragedy, athletes and fans will choose not to drink and drive.

An Umpire's Story

Part of the allure of Major League Baseball is its mythology. A collection of myths and stories transformed through generations, which in turn ties them all together, making the game magical.
Everything from Babe Ruth's called shot to Josh Gibson's 500-foot bomb to Curt Schilling's bloody sock. Players and fans alike know stories of Shoeless Joe and Dizzy Dean like Christians know Cain and Abel.

There are hundreds of players and coaches who are forever part of this mythology. For umpires though, there is one ump who stands alone in the "larger than life" category: Bill Klem.

Klem, who umpired from 1905 to 1941, has a resume that rivals Babe Ruth and Ted Williams' stat sheets. He worked 18 World Series' (the most all-time, the next best has 10) he was the oldest umpire in history, behind the plate until age 67, and called balls and strikes for five n0-hitters.

The only thing outweighing his achievements is the never-ending mythology (as well as true stories) regarding Klem.

He is known for modernizing umpiring, creating the rule that umpires must stand in "the slot" between the catcher and batter to ensure a better view of the plate. He is also known for famous confrontations, including ejecting players or managers if they crossed a line drawn in the dirt called "the Rio Grande." Unsuprisingly, Klem is the all-time leader in ejections.

Klem was unendearingly referred to by players as "Catfish," which serves an accurate visual of his mug. He is once said to have thrown a player out of a game for drawing a fish in the infield. Like all great folklore, the drawn fish gets bigger each time the story is told.


Like those of Shoeless Joe or the Babe, it is impossible to determine which stories about Klem are embellished. It is best to just enjoy them.

The most famous sure-fire myth about Klem is that he invented hand signals for umpires. Klem's self-made myth even appears on his plaque in the Hall of Fame as well as on the Wikipedia page dedicated to him.

Many in the deaf community have pushed for the induction of the real inventor of signals, Dummy Hoy. Hoy, a deaf turn-of-the-century outfielder, used ball and strike signals with a third base coach as early as 1886.

Three years ago, this his long-argued controversy drew the interest of Rochester production company Crystal Pix director/producer Don Casper. Casper started researching Klem and Hoy and became enamored with the story.

A few weeks ago, Casper finished his docu-drama Signs of the Time, which chronicles the controversy and explores the character of Bill Klem.

Crystal Pix's "labor of love," as Casper calls it, explores Klem's role in turning umpiring into a profession. "Umpires were not treated very well back then," Casper said. "Bill Klem was instrumental in the way umpires are viewed now."

Signs of the Time infuses as well as explains Klem's immortality. Casper uses clips of his famous interview (the one where he claimed to have "invented" taking credit for inventing signs), but also features former American League umpire Jim Evans to explain Klem's impact on the modern game.

"We would create little dramatic scenes that play out, that give you a window into who they (Klem and Hoy) were," Casper said.

The picture, which is narrated by Oscar-winning actor Richard Dreyfus, also utilizes first-hand accounts from players who stood in front of -and were ejected by- Bill Klem. The who's-who list of guest speakers includes Hall of Famer Bob Feller, Bill Werber and Danny Litwhiler.

Earl Weaver, Brooks Robinson and Fred Lynn also offer input on Klem's long lasting effects on umpiring.

Watching this film, to a baseball geek, will be like American Graffiti is to a car guy. It transcends the beauty of the oral tradition of story telling in baseball through Bill Klem, while using the backdrop of the ball-and-strike signs controversy as a stage for Klem's story to be told.

Signs of the Time was featured at RIT's Deaf Film Festival and is likely to appear at more film festivals around the country. I have - and all baseball fans should - joined the mailing list at signsofthetimemovie.com to watch a trailor and find out when the film will be played.